LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 OF* 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. 
 
 Received October, 1894. 
 Accessions Na*jff5$*: Class No. 
 

 
 
THE 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. DANIEL A. CLARK, 
 
 EDITED BY HIS 
 
 JAMES HENRY CLARK, M.D., 
 
 WITH 
 
 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, 
 
 AND AN ESTIMATE OF HIS POWERS AS A PREACHER, 
 BY REV. GEORGE SHEPARU, A,E, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF SACRED RHETORIC, BANGOR THEOLOGICAL, SEMINARY. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 BAKER AND SCRIBNER, 
 
 145 NASSAU STREET. 
 
 1846. 
 
Entered according to the Act of Congress in the year 1842, by 
 J. HENRY CLARK, M.D., 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the South- 
 ern District of New York. 
 
 Entered According to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by 
 JAMES HENRY CLARK, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States, for the South- 
 ern District of New York, 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE REV. WILLIAM PATTON, D. D. 
 
 THE selections of new matter for these volumes, have been 
 made, principally, from the manuscripts of the Rev. Mr. Clark. 
 It is to be regretted that the one hundred and eighty sermons, lost 
 several years since, have not been recovered, as among them 
 were the celebrated " Trumpet Sermons," which were preached 
 in various places with much profit to the hearers, as well as others 
 valuable for their discrimiatng thought, and happy method of 
 illustration. Among the sermons, not used in these volumes, are 
 many, containing rich trains of thought but they are too un- 
 finished to be given to the press. They were written under 
 the pressure of pastoral duties, without having received the bene* 
 fit of a careful revision. Others are only partly written out, 
 having simply topics noticed, to guide the mind of the preacher. 
 Had Mr. Clark written out these, it would have been an easy mat- 
 ter to have made up a third volume of valuable sermons. 
 
 It has been judged desirable to retain the name of " Short Ser- 
 mons," for the plans of sermons, some of which were published 
 during the lifetime of Mr. Clark. The number has been con- 
 siderably increased, and will thus furnish some valuable hints, as 
 well as instruction, in the art of planning sermons. Concerning 
 the miscellaneous matter, it is proper to remark, that many of the 
 pieces first appeared in the periodical press, and at the time, 
 awakened considerable interest. Such as are here collected, and 
 republished, are pieces of permanent value. They will illustrate 
 one trait of his character, the seizing upon passing incidents, and 
 
iV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 vividly impressing the mind with some great moral principle. 
 Some of the miscellaneous matter will be ranked among the 
 happiest efforts of his pen. 
 
 The incidents of his life, and the estimate of his powers as a 
 preacher, have been drawn up by a gentleman who has long been 
 acquainted with Mr. Clark, and whose mind, and habits of thought, 
 were greatly influenced by his preaching. 
 
 The very favorable manner in which the volumes of sermons 
 published several years since were received by the public, and the 
 fact that they are now out of print, furnish encouragement that 
 the " Complete Works of Rev. Daniel A. Clark," will meet with 
 the public favor especially when it is known that the profits aris- 
 ing from these volumes will help to render comfortable, in the de- 
 cline of life, the widow of a faithful and highly gifted minister 
 of the New Testament. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Rev. Dr. Patton's Introduction, 3 
 
 Preface to a Volume of Sermons published in 1826, ... 7 
 
 Introduction to three Volumes of Sermons published in 1836, - 8 
 
 Biography of the Author, 9 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 L The Church Safe, - - '" ' - - : : -'-- , ; '' ; ; - 41 
 
 ' II. Nothing safe but the Church, - - - - - 56 
 
 III. Perdition a Dark Spot in the Moral Landscape, 68 
 
 IV. The Sanctuary, 78 
 
 V. Mirror of Human Nature, 92 
 
 VI. The Son of God must be Reverenced, - - - 104 
 
 VIL The two Champions Contrasted, .... U2 
 
 VIIL The Soul reluctantly made fast to Earth, 124 
 
 IX. A Likeness taken in the Field, .... 133 
 
 X. The Perfected Good Man, - - - - - 150 
 
 XL The Perfected Good Man, No. II., ... 159 
 
 XII. Iniquity Finished, 167 
 
 XIIL Obedience the Practical test of Affection, - - 179 
 
 XIV. The Christian's Sheet Anchor, - - - . 188 
 
 XV. Heavenly Fellowship, 198 
 
 XVI. The Wise Builder, - - . - - - - 205 
 
 XVIL The Controversy Settled, ...... 220 
 
 XVIII. The Burning Bush, - - - - - - - 232 
 
 XIX. The True God a Sure Defence, .... 241 
 
 XX. The True God a Sure Defence, No. II., ... 247 
 
 XXL The Mysteries of Providence, 253 
 
 XXIL The Ways of G/>d Unfolded, 265 
 
 XXIIL -The Loiterer at the Vineyard, 275 
 
 XXIV. Christ must have his own place in his Gospel, - 286 
 
Vi CONTENTS. 
 
 XXV. The Law and the Gospel conjointly sustained, 298 
 
 XXVL Impenitent Men destitute of Holiness, 308 
 
 XXVII. Only one true God, 318 
 
 XXVIII. -The Index Sure, - - - 329 
 
 XXIX. The Index Sure, No. II., 338 
 
 XXX. The Wise Man wise for Futurity, .... 346 
 
 XXXI. The Desperate Effort, - 362 
 
 XXXIL Concio ad Clerum, - ... 372 
 
 XXXIII. The Mercies of God not obediently reciprocated, 383 
 
 XXXIV. The industrious Young Prophets, 397 
 
 XXXV. The Nature and Results of Sanctification, - - 414 
 
 XXX VI. The Means of Sanctification, 421 
 
 XXXVII. The Great Physician, 427 
 
 XXXVIII. The Man of God Developed, 434 
 
 XXXIX. Man his Brother's Keeper, 447 
 
 XL. Man his Brother's Keeper, No. II., 457 
 
 XLL True Piety peacefully Pleasant, .... 474 
 
EXTRACTS FROM THE PREFACE 
 
 - 9 
 
 OF A VOLUME OF SERMONS PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR IN 1826. 
 
 ***** I have long believed, that sermons of a distinguish- 
 ing character, and in a popular dress, having point, and pungency 
 of application, are very much needed in the American Churches 
 Most of the sermons printed are occasional, or if otherwise, print- 
 ed singly, and seldom collected into volumes, or extensively circu- 
 lated, are quite out of reach. They have, on a limited scale, done 
 great good, but most of them, however excellent, are at length 
 consigned to neglect, with waste papers. 
 
 Many excellent volumes, too, have been published, and have edifi- 
 ed the Churches and helped mature for heaven a multitude of believ- 
 ers ; but which from their occasional, metaphysical, or exclusively 
 doctrinal character, are judged unsuitable to be read in evening meet- 
 ings, to which so often, even good men, bring a mind, as well as a 
 body, worn down with fatigue ; and need for their edification, some 
 repast that can hold their powers waking. Discourses adapted to 
 such an occasion, which must often be read badly to a dull audi- 
 ence, must have poured into them all the novelty, vivacity, force, 
 and pungency possible. The truth should be condensed, and the 
 doctrines exhibited in that practical shape, that will tend to keep 
 up through every paragraph a deep and lively interest. 
 
 To supply such a volume, though perhaps a bold attempt, 
 has been my aim ; but whether I have attained, or even approach- 
 ed the point, others must judge. 
 
 It is deeply to be regretted that so many precious volumes, read 
 by the people of God, in days past, and used by the Spirit in fit- 
 ting them for heaven, have from something obsolete in their lan- 
 guage, gone too much out of use yet as the fact exists, a reme- 
 dy should be applied. The multitude of books in the market is no 
 argument against the attempt to furnish the ungodly with the 
 means of alarm, or the people of God with any help that can be 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 afforded them in finishing their sanctification. In every other 
 department of learning, new efforts are perpetually made, and 
 every fascination of style and argument employed to render in- 
 teresting the art or science that it is feared may languish, and 
 why not carry the same wisdom into the Church of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. ***** 
 
 * INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO THREE VOLUMES OF SERMONS PUBLISHED IN 1836. 
 
 THE author cannot fail to recollect with gratitude,- the unex- 
 pectedly rapid sale of a former volume, and the many favorable 
 acknowledgments he has received from its readers. Though 
 repeatedly urged to issue a new edition of that volume, or other 
 fruits of his pen, he has hitherto declined, except occasionally to 
 publish sermons and essays in some of the current periodicals. 
 But since his health has failed, and he can no longer stand in the 
 holy place, rather than bear the agony of living to no purpose, he 
 has summoned resolution, with the encouragement of friends, to 
 arrange and issue these three volumes, including some of his 
 former publications. 
 
 The author has still the same conviction as formerly expressed, 
 that writings are often spoiled by too much smoothing and polish- 
 ing. Hence the present volumes are permitted to go forth with 
 those occasional roughnesses, which, it is hoped, may not give of- 
 fence, but simply stir up thoughts, and arouse proper feeling. He 
 is also impressed with the fact, that in the manner of reading, 
 and especially of reading sermons, there is generally exhibited a 
 most shameful and criminal deficiency. If he might be allowed a 
 suggestion on this point, he would say with deference, let the pa- 
 rent, or some one selected by him, read aloud for the benefit of 
 the family, after preparing himself to read with due emphasis and 
 feeling. And as a general rule, read aloud, even when alone 
 remembering that impressions made at once on the ear and eye, 
 reach the heart with double force. Let this course be prayerfully 
 adopted, and well written sermons, and essays, arid the precious 
 Bible itself, would not so often be regarded as dull compositions ; 
 but their perusal would be accompanied with power from on high. 
 That some portion of that blessed influence may attend these 
 volumes, and that they may not be consigned, with their author, 
 to speedy dust and worms, is his last written prayer. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 DANIEL A. CLARK was born in Rahway, New Jersey, on March 1st, 1779. 
 His father was David Clark, a relative of Abraham Clark, whose name 
 appears among the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He was a 
 warm Whig, and his property was sacrificed, and his life brought into 
 jeopardy often, in consequence of his patriotic exertions. In reference to 
 these trying scenes, the subject of this memoir was accustomed to say, that 
 he u was cradled in a whirlwind." His mother, Elizabeth Moore, was " a 
 mother in Israel." She seems to have been a woman of great strength and 
 decision of character. She was remarkable for plain dealing and Christian 
 faithfulness toward her children, and those under her care ; it was a some- 
 what austere and uncompromising faithfulness, partaking of an age of more 
 rigid authority than our own. She was alone in her efforts for the religious 
 training and the eternal welfare of her children, for the father did not exert 
 any religious influence. Perhaps this double share of responsibility weighed 
 so heavy, as to induce a double vigilance and energy in her own spirit, for 
 the saving of her house. 
 
 The following is his own language, descriptive of her influence over 
 himself. 
 
 " A child of prayer, he knew a mother's worth, 
 Knew well the silken cords she round him flung, 
 To hold him back from crime, and woe, and death." 
 
 He pays, in another connection, a more extended tribute to her influence 
 and her worth : 
 
 " She wonderfully succeeded in attaching herself to the people of the 
 saints of the most high God. In her eyes, the pious were ever honorable ; 
 and through her persevering influence, she had many a kind word dropped 
 in the ears of her family, by one and another that had received the hospi- 
 tality of her house and table. In the earliest times, she surrounded herself 
 with a kind of hallucination that threw around her a savor of heaven. She 
 had the entire confidence of all that feared God in the neighborhood, and 
 often consulted with them when she knew of any iniquity that was about 
 to be practised; especially, if by her influence the children of her neighbors 
 and of the covenant could be kept from vice." 
 
 In the "Maternal Contrast," a small volume recently prepared from his 
 2 
 
X BIOGRAPHY 
 
 papers, is found a full history of her character, and an extended tribute to 
 her memory. In that little volume, he says, speaking directly of his mother, 
 
 " It seemed to me, sometimes, that heaven told her all my history and 
 she never forgot my sins. She would remember some act of waywardness 
 many moons, if I kept from her presence, and she had no opportunity to 
 judge me. If the testimony was not full, she knew how to secure a con- 
 fession; and if not, she prayed for me, and turned me over to the judgment 
 of the great day." 
 
 We have still another tribute to his mother's faithfulness, in the account 
 of his conversion, which is given in his own words. 
 
 ANDOVER, Mass., Thursday, Feb. 14, 1811. 
 
 " Born in 1779, I lived a wicked and a thoughtless life, until I was ten or 
 twelve years old. I presume that I had, in that time, many fears of death, 
 and of hell, but I have no definite recollection of them. My dear mother 
 had instructed me in the Bible, and catechism, but had made but little pro- 
 gress in bringing me to repentance. I hated her instructions, and longed to 
 be from under her control. As often as possible, I absented myself from 
 her kind instructions. I hated to hear so much about sin and hell. I loved 
 play better than truth. My mother, however, would pursue me, and re- 
 mind me of my danger, and press me to my Bible ; but it was like urging 
 the ox to the place of slaughter. She would have found her work much 
 easier, had my dear father yielded her that assistance which he should have 
 done. I should then have been easily governed. But my father would 
 sometimes allow me to* disobey my mother. This did me great injury. I 
 felt my mother's word to be law ; and a law it was which I seldom dared 
 to break. If she gave me any commands which were grievous, I used to 
 try to have her repeal the law she had made. If she would not, I tried to 
 have my father say I need not mind her. If he would not do this, my con- 
 science constrained me to obey. I often kept out of her sight, for fear she 
 would forbid me some gratification on which my heart was set. I often 
 wished that God had given me such a mother as the other boys had, one 
 who would indulge me more. Thus I hated her for her kindness. 
 
 " When about twelve years of age, I went with some of the children of the 
 
 village, and one wicked boy from New- York, by the name of S , to the 
 
 creek, for the purpose of crabbing. On the way our city-comrade advised us 
 to kill a fowl which we saw by a barn, and use it for bait. By his persuasion 
 and assistance we did. On our return, we saw, near the same place, a flock 
 of turkeys; these we stoned until we killed several of them, and went to 
 shaking off apples for our amusement. The man who owned the orchard 
 saw us, and came to forbid us. He did not discover that we had killed 
 the turkeys, for which reason we escaped. 
 
 " On returning home, I was much alarmed to think of what we had done. 
 I never had before engaged in such a piece of villany, nor should I then 
 have done it had I not been led on. For some time I feared the man would 
 find us out, and would have us punished. I was during some months in 
 
 constant agitation. 
 
 t 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. Xi 
 
 " Thus I began a bold career of wickedness. Nor did I begin only, for I 
 made daily progress. My mother now found it difficult to manage me. I 
 began to break over every restraint ; but still was afraid to disobey her. 
 She remembered it, if I did, and would reprove me, or correct me, the lat- 
 ter of which I preferred. I dreaded her reproofs. Now it was that my 
 father should have used his authority, but he let me run on, in my despe- 
 rate course. 
 
 " When about fifteen years old, I began to wish to attend balls ; but here, 
 my mother could give me no indulgence. There was no way that I could 
 get to one, without keeping it a secret, or disobeying her. Her restraints 
 now rendered me desperate, and I resolved to disobey. One night, when 
 there was a ball in the neighborhood, I went to bed, where I lay till my 
 mother was asleep ; I then rose ; carried my clothes into the field ; there I 
 dressed me ; I then took my father's horse and went to the ball. But my 
 conscience so disturbed me, that I had no comfort. After staying till about 
 11 o'clock, in constant agony, I returned, put all things right again, and 
 went to bed. Now it was that I felt a part of hell in my bosom. I could 
 not sleep. My whole system was agitated, so that at length the bedstead 
 shook. I began to think that God would bear with me no longer, but would 
 cut me off for my sins. I at length thought that I was struck with death ; 
 but resolved to die alone. I was afraid to tell any one the reason of my 
 distress, and knew no one who could relieve me. I thought my hell had 
 begun. I expected before morning to be among devils. 
 
 " I forget whether I finally fell asleep or not, but I believe that toward 
 morning I did ; probably through excessive fatigue. During my distress I 
 tried to pray, but found it hard work. 
 
 " In a few days I forgot all this distress, and went on witli as high a hand 
 as ever. I was desirous, above all things, to attend balls. Once I remem- 
 ber going to a great distance to attend one, but came home much more un- 
 happy than I went ; this, however, was always the case. 
 
 " About this time there was a ball appointed in the neighborhood, of which 
 I became a party. The landlady, being professedly pious, informed my 
 mother that I was there, and engaged in the dance. Like an Israelite in- 
 deed, she sent for me home. I refused to go. She then came herself, and 
 ordered me home. Now I knew not what to do. I had waited upon a 
 young lady to the ball, and could not leave her there, and dared not stay 
 myself. I very soon invited the young lady to go home, and thus made my 
 retreat. 
 
 " I have often doubted if my mother acted wisely in this matter. She 
 reduced me to desperation. I felt, the next day, ashamed of my very exist- 
 ence. I wished my mother dead. I wished for anything which might free 
 :ne from restraint. In my heart I cursed that dear mother, who loved me 
 so tenderly that she would have done anything possible for my temporal or 
 eternal good. 
 
 " Now if my father had done his duty, I might have been stopped in 
 my course. Alas ! he stood silent by. Now it was that my mother wrest- 
 
Xii BIOGRAPHY 
 
 tied for my soul. I used to see her come from her closet in tears, and often 
 used to overhear her prayers. 
 
 " My father began to think of putting me to business. The man with 
 whom he wished me to live was very wicked. He was, however, called a 
 smart man, which induced my father to propose my living with him. I 
 began to long for the time when I should leave home, intending then to take 
 my full of sinful pleasure. But God had otherwise determined. My dear 
 mother continued to pray, and God resolved to hear. Before the time had 
 come when I was to leave home, there was, in Elizabethtown, some atten- 
 tion to religion. The preaching of Rev. David Austen was blessed to the 
 hopeful conversion of some, although he was at that time becoming wild 
 in many of his notions. It was, on the whole, a very solemn time. Many 
 seemed anxious about their souls. On the first day of May, the sacrament 
 was to be administered at Elizabethtown, and several were to be added to 
 the Church. I had my doubts in the morning whether I would go to Eliza- 
 bethtown, or Rah way, but some of my companions inviting me, 1 went with 
 them to Elizabethtown. The day was warm. Our walk, of three miles, 
 having fatigued me, I resolved to fix myself in a corner of the pew, and dur- 
 ing the sermon to take a nap. I took my seat, but as soon as Mr. Austen 
 had taken his text, my feelings seemed very much awakened. I resolved to 
 listen to the discourse. The text was, Jer. 1. 4, 5. " In those days and in 
 that time saith the Lord, the children of Israel shall come, they and the 
 children of Judah together, going and weeping; they shall go and seek the 
 Lord their God. They shall ask the way to Zion with their faces thither- 
 ward, saying, Come, and let us join ourselves to the Lord in a perpetual co- 
 venant, that shall not be forgotten." The sermon seemed directed to me. I 
 melted under the word. It was the first sermon to which I ever gave good 
 attention, and I humbly hope the Lord set it home by his Spirit. Thirteen 
 were that day added to the Church. I was much impressed while I saw 
 them come and join themselves to the Lord. I longed to be with them. I 
 thought I loved them as I never loved any human being before. I sat in my 
 corner seat, till the sacrament was over, pouring out one constant flood of 
 tears. I then sought to hide from my merry companions, with whom I felt 
 that I could never again have communion, unless they were regenerated. I 
 retired in the intermission of Divine service, to a lonely grove, where, for the 
 first time, I poured out my heart to God in prayer. It seemed to me that 
 God was on my right hand and on my left. I never had felt that he was 
 everywhere, before. My first anxious prayer was, that I might hold out 
 to the end. When I came home from meeting, I found my father's family 
 all absent they having gone to a conference. I retired to my chamber, 
 and falling on my knees, attempted again to pray. In the evening I went to 
 the conference, anxious to hear Divine truth. Thus was spent that first 
 pleasant day of my life. 
 
 " Whether I was that day regenerated, I dare not say : I think this was 
 the case. I had very little previous distress. During the preceding week I 
 had been alarmed, by a solemn account in the Connecticut Evangelical 
 Magazine, of a young lady, who, having her heart set on attending a ball, 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. Xlll 
 
 had one appointed at her request, but was herself buried on the day ap- 
 pointed for the ball. This account touched my case, and drove me to a form 
 of prayer. But I had no convictions, nor was my heart at all in my prayers. 
 I prayed because I was afraid I should be damned. I one day felt while I re- 
 tired to pray, that if I had power enough to pull God from his throne, I 
 would not pray. I had, however, resolved to keep up a form of prayer as long 
 as I lived. In this resolve I should certainly have failed, had not God, as I 
 humbly hope, given me a new heart. 
 
 " My knowledge of gospel truth, notwithstanding all the efforts of my 
 mother, was at this time very small. I certainly did not know enough to 
 be a comfortable believer. During a whole year I obtained no satisfactory 
 hope that my heart was renewed. I took much pleasure in the company 
 and conversation of God's people. They seemed to me the excellent of the 
 earth. I sometimes went six or seven miles to meet with them in confer- 
 ence. I put too much dependence on meetings. I felt as if they were ne- 
 cessary to keep alive my religion. I almost worshiped the man who was 
 the instrument of arousing me. Natural affections were very much sub- 
 stituted for religion. I have often thought, that if I had any religion during 
 this first year, it was as a drop in the ocean. 
 
 " Very soon after being awakened, I felt the need of a companion ; and 
 God seemed to give me one. A young man in my neighborhood, and one 
 whom I had long enjoyed as a companion in vice, was awakened at a con- 
 ference, attended by the Rev. Mr. C . Immediately after the meeting, 
 
 he sent me a line, in which he opened his mind to me, and gave me great 
 joy. I flew to his embrace, and, I suppose, felt proud that God had an- 
 swered my prayer. He seemed so deeply impressed, and came out so 
 boldly from the world, that he made me doubt whether I had met with a 
 saving change. For about two weeks, we spent almost all our time to- 
 gether, in prayer and conversation. He then began to be less fond of my 
 company, and soon entirely forsook me. Thus the gourd that had grown 
 up in a night, withered in a day. I suppose God designed, by this afflicting 
 stroke, to wean me from man, and bring me to himself. I felt more than 
 ever the importance of having a religion which would live without any 
 support but from heaven. To convince me still more thoroughly of this 
 important truth, God so ordered it in his providence, that I should go into 
 the employ of that man whom I have already brought into view. In this 
 thing I think my father was wrong. He ought now to have provided for 
 my growth in grace. This new situation, in which my rebellious heart 
 had formerly anticipated much delight, was now very unpleasant. I lived 
 in the midst of oaths and curses. They laughed at my seriousness, and 
 tried many ways to make me dishonor religion. And, O, my soul, too often 
 they succeeded ! I had now very little opportunity to read, or attend reli- 
 gious conference. All this tended to drive me into retirement, where I 
 might pray. Many times in the day I used to leave the wicked throng 
 which surrounded me, that I might spend a few moments alone. Many of 
 my evenings were spent in tears. My life was gloomy as death. I spent 
 much of my leisure time in reading the Bible. Having a Bible of small 
 
XIV BIOGRAPHY 
 
 print, and setting up to read it until late at night, I found at length that I 
 had almost ruined my eyes. They became so weak, that for several years 
 afterward I could not read a chapter in the Bible with any comfort. This 
 also tended to make me feel that I must have a religion which came from 
 God only, and which he would nourish by his Spirit. 
 
 " During the first year of my seriousness, I had a very bad opinion of my 
 heart, till at length I concluded that I had no religion. I was distressed, 
 for fear that I had never been acquainted with Christ. I certainly was 
 very ignorant of his character. Sometime in the latter part of the winter, I 
 happened to discover in the house where I lived, an old, dirty pamphlet ; 
 which, on examining, I found to contain two sermons of Doctor Hopkins, 
 one on the law, and the other on the gospel. The text of the latter sermon 
 was, " Which were bora not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of 
 the will of man, but of G-od." These sermons suited my case. They con- 
 vinced me that I was very ignorant of Christ, and threw me into great 
 distress, which continued many months. During this time, I felt as if I 
 could not pray. There seemed to be a cloud of brass between me and God. 
 Sometime in April, my distress, one Sabbath morning, arose so high, that I 
 thought I could not live. I took my hymn-book and walked the fields. 
 Every thing I saw seemed as gloomy as death. I several times fell on my 
 face, and despaired of mercy. I triejl to pray, and could not. The whole 
 day was dark and dismal. In the evening I attended a conference, and all 
 was dark yet. After the conference, the Rev. Mr. Chapman, (who was 
 then my minister, and who felt very anxious for me, and had already, at 
 my request, propounded me to the church,) inquired of my feelings. I 
 told him, " Gloomy as death." 1 He immediately pointed me to Christ. I 
 told him that I was afraid I had never Found the Savior. He told me, 
 then, that my religion was vain. His conversation was the means, I hope, 
 of bringing me to be better acquainted with Christ, and of dispersing my 
 darkness. 1 had a charming evening and night, almost all of which I spent 
 in the same fields where I had despaired in the morning. My cloud of 
 brass now seemed to be penetrable. I thought I had near access to God. 
 I continued more comfortable, until, on the first day of May, (just one year 
 from the time of my first feeling the change,) I joined the church, and took 
 my seat among the followers of the Lamb." 
 
 He soon after formed the purpose of preparing for the ministry ; and in 
 1S02, commenced his academical studies, under the care of Rev. Dr. Finley 
 of Baskenridge. In March, 1805, he was summoned home to see his 
 mother die. She had no anxiety but for the souls of her children. He 
 heard her speak of God's goodness, of her joy in the light of his countenance, 
 and her readiness to depart : he saw her depart in peace, and in the clear 
 hope of a glorious immortality. The loss of such a mother affected him 
 deeply. 
 
 He entered Princeton College in 1805, and graduated in 1808, with so 
 high a reputation for scholarship, that the proffer of a tutorship was made 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XV 
 
 lo him, which, however, he declined, that he might enter at once upon 
 his professional studies. 
 
 The following letter to his uncle and aunt, written in the latter part of 
 his college life, is interesting for the sentiments it contains, and the pious 
 spirit which it breathes. 
 
 " PRINCETON, N. J., Jan. 10, 1808. 
 " My Dear Uncle and Aunt : 
 
 " I take it for granted that you are so much interested in the welfare of 
 all your friends, as to wish to hear from them. I regret that so wide a 
 space parts us, as to forbid our intercourse. Since the dissolution of my fa- 
 ther's family, I feel more interested than before in the smiles of my other 
 friends. How good is God in this ! that when one of the streams that con- 
 vey satisfaction and delight to our minds dries up, he allows the same 
 sweets to reach us by other channels. His mercy forbids, or the days of 
 mourning would be protracted to the grave. This is a world full of chang- 
 es, and as full of disappointments. We often forget on what we lean until 
 it gives way, and exposes us to a fall. Friends often lean on friends, instead 
 of an Almighty arm, and provoke God to cut them off by death, that they 
 may return and put their trust in him. Since my very agreeable visit to 
 your country, I have felt greatly interested in the welfare of your family. I 
 often picture you, in my imagination, standing on the border of Canaan, 
 looking forward with joy to the fields of light, and hailing the inviting dawn 
 of the resurrection morning : and, at the same time looking backward with 
 no less delight, to see your children walking in that blessed path, that must 
 terminate at the gates of the New Jerusalem. 0, how great is the portion 
 of the Christian ! He possesses either the reality, or the certain promise of 
 every good. He walks through every danger without hurt, and shall at 
 last stand on the ashes of the universe and triumphantly say, I have lost 
 nothing. My dearest friends, let a young pilgrim admonish you to keep 
 your eyes fixed upon your ascended Redeemer. Your only hope, you know, 
 is in him ; your only safety in him. If he smile on you, ten thousand hells 
 could not hurt you but if he frown, as many Gabriels of light could not 
 administer a drop of joy. To serve Christ is the whole business of life, and 
 and if we refuse to serve him, we ought to be generous enough to leave the 
 world he made for that purpose. He intended to be served here when he 
 laid the foundation of the earth ; and the sons of God looking forward to the 
 glory of his kingdom, shouted for joy. 1 hear with joy that Christ is making 
 daily encroachments upon the kingdom of the prince of darkness. Newark 
 and Elizabethtown witness, at present, some of the most interesting scenes 
 that ever passed in review before the eyes of men. The stoutest hearts 
 yield to invitations of the gospel. The child of eight years and the sire of 
 ninety, unite their harmonious songs to the Lamb that was slain, and has 
 redeemed them unto himself by his blood. From this town I have no good 
 news to tell you, unless it be that upwards of twenty-five, are here prepar- 
 ing to blow the gospel trump. But what God will do with this people I 
 know not, for they are nearly all asleep upon the brink of death. I know 
 
XVl" BIOGRAPHY 
 
 not of a worse evil that can happen to any people, than that of being for- 
 saken by the Spirit of God. 
 
 " Uncle will see in the printed sheet which accompanies this letter, the 
 happy state of the College, which he will please make as public as possible. 
 
 " Yours, very affectionately, DANIEL A. CLARK." 
 
 Some of his contributions to periodicals, during his College course, evince 
 much thought, and maturity of intellect. 
 
 Mr. Clark commenced his theological studies under the direction of the 
 Presbytery of New York. In May, 1809, he left Newark, in company with 
 Dr. Griffin, for Andover : the latter to be a teacher in that then infant Sem- 
 inary, the former a student. His residence at Andover was from one to 
 two years, he having entered the second (middle) class. This was the 
 third class formed in that Seminary, which left in 1811. 
 
 In the course of Mr. Clark's residence at Andover, the place was favored 
 with a revival of religion, in which he was very deeply interested, and for 
 the promotion of which he labored with great zeal and success. Some 
 account of this work, and of his own exercises in view of it, is found among 
 his papers. The following extracts from his diary may not be uninteresting, 
 as indicating his spiritual state while in a course of theological study. 
 
 " ANDOVER, Mass., Sabbath, October 15th, 1809. 
 
 " Again somewhat unwell. The day is dull, and the preaching poor. The 
 week past, however, has been pleasant, because the Lord was among us. O, 
 how good is it to see sinnners inquire the way to Zion, with their faces 
 thitherward ! It seems to make us forget that we are in a wretched world, 
 and we begin to feel ourselves blest. And truly they are blest, whom the 
 Lord permits to rejoice in the displays of his Sovereign grace. They seem 
 to sit around where Jesus is, and to feel a part of heaven. 
 
 " Evening. Spent with the Misses E , and two of my brethren, con- 
 versing about Christ, the Savior of sinners. I hope Christ was there. 
 Blessed be his name, for meliorating the woes of this sublunary scene, by 
 setting up a Church in it, and giving his people to see the displays of his 
 grace in the salvation of sinners. What shall we render to the Lord for all 
 his benefits ? How shall his poor people make him any return : 
 
 For all they are and all they have is God's. 
 
 He saw them weltering in their blood ; cast out 
 
 And lying in the open field, forlorn, 
 
 Without an eye to pity, or an arm 
 
 To help ; nor was there found in heaven, or earth, 
 
 Or in the world of woe, a heart to feel, 
 
 Save His who felt (moved by the sinner's pains, 
 
 Or rather by his own eternal love,) 
 
 And flew from heaven to save, and snatch them thence, 
 
 And healed their wounds and made their hearts rejoice. 
 
 Yes, all they have is His, and His are they. 
 
 They love to serve their King, and shout his praise, 
 
 Yea, gladly would they burn with seraph's flame 
 
 Until the sacred fire had made them pure. 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XVli 
 
 " WEDNESDAY, November 29, 1809. 
 
 " Our brother dies* and why is God dealing with us so early in wrath ? 
 What is God saying to us in all this ? He is in heaven, and we on the 
 earth, and our words must be few. I am to prepare an address on the occa- 
 sion. But I know not what to say. May the Spirit of the Lord direct me." 
 
 " ANDOVER, Sabbath Morning, July 1st, 1810. 
 
 " I perceive that I have neglected my diary for two months. A part of 
 that time I have spent very agreeably in Beverly, where the Lord is shed- 
 ding down his showers of grace. It was sweet to be there. How pleasant 
 to stand stili and see the salvation of God ! To see the sinner melt under 
 the word, and hear him inquire, what he shall do to be saved ? this is de- 
 lightful. I remember to have often prayed, that God would cast my lot 
 where he was pouring out his Holy Spirit. I have now spent six weeks in 
 such a place, and hope I have received some advantage. I think that I 
 long to be always in such a place to be always where God reveals his gra- 
 cious name. I long now to live near to him, to have every day some view 
 of his face, to feel every morning and evening the same fervent glow of af- 
 fection. Must rny soul ever again leave my God ? Upon what object can 
 it fix, if it should act so unwise a part ? Will it try again to be pleased 
 with earthly objects, and fix its hopes on sublunary good ? Oh, no! these 
 have all been tried. I have found by long and painful experience, that 
 earth has no one charm for my soul. It may play for a moment around 
 some painted earthly object, but it soon remembers its home, and begins to 
 mourn. Hills and groves sometimes delight it a moment, but soon it feels a 
 longing desire after an acquaintance with the God who founded and painted 
 tliem. Imagination soon leaves the scenery, and bears me to the fields of 
 light, where the redeemed gaze for ever upon that more lovely object, the 
 Lamb of God. Oh, my God ! is not this eager desire after a better object, 
 some faint proof that my soul has been renewed by thy Divine grace ? Do 
 I not love thee ?" 
 
 It. appears from the preceding, that Mr. Clark, at this period, was not 
 neglectful of his own spiritual interests, or of those of others, but watched, 
 and labored, and prayed, that souls might be saved, and Zion prosper, and 
 Christ be honored. 
 
 There is other testimony, to the same effect. One who was in the same 
 original company from Newark, writes, under a recent date, that 
 
 " His character for devoted piety was eminent in the Seminary. He was 
 active and useful in a season of religious interest, which commenced in the 
 south part of the town, during the fall vacation of 1809 in the Seminary." 
 
 Another respected minister, who came into the Seminary about the time 
 Mr. Clark left it, writes, 
 
 " My wife, who was somewhat acquainted with him while at Andover, 
 and who became interested in religion during the first revival at A., 
 
 * Mr. Badger, a fellow student with him in Andover Theological Seminary, 
 
 3 
 
XV111 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 in which your father, with some others of his classmates, bore a con- 
 spicuous part, remembers and speaks of him with great affection ; and thinks 
 he was one of the most useful instruments which God was pleased to 
 employ in that blessed work a work which gave a new tone and character 
 to the piety of the church in that place, and the influence of which has 
 been felt from that day to this, among that people." 
 
 In October, 1810, before finally leaving Andover, he was examined, and 
 licensed to preach the gospel by the Presbytery of New Jersey. 
 
 In 1811, he visited Portland, where a work of grace was in progress, and 
 engaged in earnest labors for its promotion. He occupied, for several weeks, 
 the pulpit of Dr. Beman, then one of the ministers of Portland, and who was 
 absent, for a season, in consequence of ill health. 
 
 On January 1, 1812, he was ordained a minister of the gospel, and in- 
 stalled pastor of the Congregational Union Church of Braintree and Wey- 
 mouth. In June, of the same year, he was married, at Portland, Maine, to 
 Miss Eliza Barker, daughter of Dr. Jeremiah Barker, of Gorham. 
 
 The field in which Mr. Clark commenced his ministry, was a somewhat 
 difficult and rugged one ; and he seems to have entered and continued in 
 it with many trials. He complains, in a letter, that there are but few to 
 pray for a revival ; that many have taken offence at his preaching some 
 because he endeavored to raise the standard of piety, by which they were 
 cut off from their hope that they were Christians; others, because his 
 preaching was directed against coldness, covetousness, balls and cards ; 
 others, probably, from his heavy and demolishing assaults of the Unitarian 
 heresy, which he never was in the habit of sparing. 
 
 The following letter, to the parents of Mrs. Clark, is instructive, and it 
 indicates his anxiety for the spiritual good of his relatives. 
 
 # 
 
 " WEYNOUTH, March, 12, 3813. 
 
 " Dear Parents We thank you for your friendly letters, and regret that 
 we have not expressed our gratitude sooner. It always gives us pleasure 
 to hear from you, but never have we felt this pleasure to so high a degree 
 as when we received your last communications. We can assure you they 
 gave us joy that was new. We now anticipate much pleasure in future 
 communications of feelings, in which, we humbly hope, we can mutually 
 share. The doctrines upon which you appear at last to have founded your 
 hopes, are, I believe, the only sure foundation.* We cannot open the Bible 
 but our eyes meet some black line, bearing reproach and shame against hu- 
 man nature. Man has corrupted his way before the Lord. The iniquity 
 which appears in his life, originates in a heart at enmity with God, and wiih 
 everything holy. Such a heart has rendered him unfit for the kingdom of 
 heaven. It must be renewed, and none can renew it but God. A way must 
 be contrived in which God can consistently pardon and save the sinner. 
 This way was devised by the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and is made 
 
 * This letter is a reply to one received from his father-in-law Dr. J. Barker, an- 
 nouncing his conversion from Socinianism to orthodoxy. 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. xix 
 
 known in the gospel. Christ must die, and his blood become the fountain in 
 which the sinner is cleansed from his guilt, and the price which buys him a 
 pardon. Blood, of such value, cannot be the blood of a mere creature. 
 Christ must be the Jehovah of the Scriptures. If G-od save sinners he 
 must save all, or must choose whom he will save, or must find out some 
 other way to make the selection. No other way having been discovered, 
 and there being wise reasons why he should not save all, he elects some to 
 everlasting life, and leaves others to reject the gospel and perish. Those who 
 perish are not injured, those who are saved receive nothing but grace. Those 
 once lost can never be saved, because they will have no Savior. Christ will 
 have gathered in his elect, and have given up the kingdom. Then he that 
 is filthy must be filthy still. Thus is there a concatenation in Divine truth. 
 One acknowledged, we must acknowledge //, or be inconsistent. Destroy 
 one link, and the whole series falls to the ground. 
 
 " It is, however, a distressing fact, that men often become convinced 
 of these truths in their understandings, yet never embrace them with 
 their hearts nor act them out in their lives. Such were they who are 
 accused by the apostle of holding the truth in unrighteousness. But I 
 have always supposed that such men may be easily known. We 
 shall see that their lives do not correspond with their doctrines. They 
 will be likely to neglect %nany important duties of religion. They will 
 not be spiritual in their conversation. Their favorite theme will not be 
 the religion of the heart. They will appear trifling in their manners. 
 They will at least show, while conversing on the truths of the gospel, 
 that these truths have never made much impression upon their hearts. 
 You may easily see that it is their wish to be esteemed pious. They will 
 be likely to tell you that they have thought much on these things. You will 
 find them unwilling to make much sacrifice for the truth. If truth is not 
 very popular in the company where they chance to be, they will either re- 
 main silent, or by some crouching, well directed sentences, will throw their 
 weight into the scale of error. In this way they will steer along, free from 
 persecution, will please all parties, and offend none. 
 
 " O, how different is this conduct from that of the martyrs ! They con- 
 fessed the truth, till their tongues were stiffened to a coal, and would do 
 their office no longer ! May the Almighty God give me this lot, rather than 
 the lot of those who act the coward, and betray their Master. Such time- 
 servers can never be useful. Half the time they are counted among the 
 friends of Zion, but the other half, they swell the ranks of the foe. If God 
 be God, we ought to serve him, but if Baal, then let us serve him. Halt- 
 ing between two opinions ruins the soul. I love to see correct sentiment, 
 but more yet a holy life. Religion must bear fruit. AVhen the Spirit of 
 God has taught a man the truth, it is delightful to see the effect it will im- 
 mediately have upon his life. Let a man be savingly taught this one truth, 
 that sin has polluted his soul, and you will immediately see the effect. If 
 morally polluted, he will feel that he lies at uncovenanted mercy. This 
 will effect his prayers, his hopes, his fears, and his joys. He will feel that 
 a polluted creature ought to he modest, humble, meek, fearful, cautious, 
 
XX BIOGRAPHY 
 
 watchful, and thankful. Every action of such a man will tell you that he 
 has seen his heart. Every gospel truth will have a similar effect. No 
 sooner is Christ formed in our heart, the hojje of glory, than the lineaments 
 of that impression will be drawn out in the life. 
 
 " And then the world will be angry. Real religion cannot appear in such 
 a shape as to please unrenewed men. No, you might as well join noon to 
 midnight. If unholy men are generally pleased with us, depend upon it we 
 are not holy. The world will love his own. As soon as we begin to follow 
 Christ they will cast out our names as evil. We shall be hated of all men 
 for his sake. But those who persevere are blessed. An inheritance incor- 
 ruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, is reserved for them in heaven. 
 
 " My dear parents, excuse my freedom. I knew not what I should write 
 when I took my pen, but the sweet subject opened before me, and I could 
 not stop. We are all in good health. We have friends and enemies. We 
 love God so little that we have but little spiritual joy. I hope, however, 
 that the Spirit of God is among us, and will give us a little reviving in our 
 bondage. The girl who lives with us seems to be under deep and solemn 
 impressions. I really believe that God is about to bring her home to him- 
 self. We have established an inquiring meeting and they are sweet meet- 
 ings. But I must stop. The Lord bless and comfort you. Eliza joins with 
 me in assurances of affection. 
 
 " Your^bedient son, DANIEL A. CLARK." 
 
 Mr. Clark remained at Weymouth, strongly and pointedly proclaiming 
 the great truths of the Bible, till the fall of 1815 ; when the state of his 
 wife's health, which demanded a milder climate, together with the oppo- 
 sition arrayed against him, induced him to seek a dismission. This he 
 honorably obtained, and removed to New-Jersey, and labored through the 
 succeeding winter at Hanover, amid scenes of religious interest. 
 
 In January, 1816, he was installed pastor of the Congregational Church 
 in Southbury, Connecticut. Of his labors here, there is no record at hand. 
 We only learn that here, as elsewhere, his labors were blessed. It was 
 while at Southbury that he prepared and preached the sermon entitled 
 " The Church Safe," which has been so generally read, and so warmly 
 admired. 
 
 Not only did he perform the duties which devolved upon him as a min- 
 ister in this- field ; he also taught, gratuitously, for a considerable time, a 
 large school, that he might raise the standard, and promote the cause of 
 education in the place and the vicinity. 
 
 Upon determining to leave this place, Mr. Clark received invitations 
 from the churches in Waterbury, and in North Haven, Connecticut, and 
 from the church in the West Parish, Amherst, Mass., which last he ac- 
 cepted, and was installed, Jan. 26, 1820. Rev. Mr. Porter, of Farmington, 
 preached on the occasion. 
 
 At this time, Mr. Clark was in the maturity arid full strength of his 
 faculties ; and it was here that he prepared and preached some of his 
 ablest sermons. Amongst those listened to with peculiar interest, was a 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. Xxi 
 
 series on the text, "For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who 
 shall prepare himself to the battle ?" which, with many more of his best 
 discourses, were unfortunately lost, by being lent to a clerical friend. 
 
 There was one season of more than usual religious interest, during his 
 ministry at Amherst, which he watched over with great solicitude, and 
 labored most abundantly to promote. The work was more in the outer 
 districts of the parish than at the centre. He sustained meetings in these 
 districts, and many of them he describes as very solemn and searching. 
 Professors of religion were constrained to give up their hopes, repent, 
 and do their first works, and begin anew the Christian life. Some of .the 
 dead in sin were awakened, and hopefully converted to God. The precise 
 number is not known. 
 
 There was at this time also a revival in the College, which acquired 
 impulse and strength from his bold and fervid preaching. " As there 
 was no church, and no preaching on the Sabbath in the College," says 
 Dr. Humphrey, in his account of this revival, " the students attended wor- 
 ship in the village, and enjoyed the ministry of Rev. Daniel A. Clark, 
 which was well adapted to show them their guilt and danger, and which 
 seems to have been very much blessed in the conviction and conversion 
 of sinners. Had the trumpet, at this critical juncture, given an uncertain 
 sound had any human voice cried ' peace, peace,' in contradiction to the 
 word of God, which declares that there is no peace to the wicked, how 
 many might have lingered and perished on the plain, who, it is hoped, fled 
 for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before them in the gospel." 
 
 Mr. Clark encountered opposition and trials in this field. Charges were 
 were brought against him affecting his character; and some of them, if 
 sustained, must have destroyed his standing and influence. A committee, 
 appointed by the church to examine into these allegations, in their report, 
 remark : " That a considerable portion of the alleged charges are, in the 
 opinion of the committee, entirely unworthy of notice; because, if the 
 circumstances stated were proved to be true, they would not implicate the 
 moral character of any man against whom they might be preferred. Some 
 others, which have the appearance of evil, your committee have traced to 
 their source, and have ascertained that-they are wholly unfounded." 
 
 A remonstrance was made by the church to the council, called to con- 
 sider these charges, against the dismission of their pastor, on the alleged 
 ground that his usefulness was at an end. The main reason by which the 
 remonstrance was sustained was, " That* they did not believe a minister's 
 usefulness to consist in keeping men quiet in their sins, but in awakening 
 the conscience, making it perform its office ; exposing the native enmity of 
 the heart, and then beseeching men to be reconciled unto God ; also in the 
 perfecting of the saints, and the edifying of the body of Christ. We think 
 his preaching eminently calculated to accomplish these great designs of a 
 preached gospel, and, of course, conclude that his usefulness is not at an 
 end here." 
 
 The council on this case was one of the ablest and most imposing we 
 have ever witnessed. There were thronged assemblies, and eloquent ad- 
 
XX11 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 vocates, and venerable judges. The result was altogether favorable to 
 the pastor. They say, in the result, " Few, it is presumed, would have 
 have sustained so strict a scrutiny with so little injury. They sympa- 
 thize in his afflictions ; and, with full confidence in his ability and disposi- 
 tion to be highly useful in the church, they cordially tender to their brother 
 and friend their affectionate salutations. Long may he be continued as a 
 burning and shining light ; and may the lustre of his doctrine and his life 
 be more and more conspicuous, till he shall be removed to a brighter 
 world, where darkness, temptation, and sorrow, are for ever unknown. 1 ' 
 
 The time at which the council was convened was the second Tuesday 
 of February, 1824. Mr. Clark remained in Amherst for a season after the 
 action of this council, and discharged his ministerial duties; and, amongst 
 other things, prepared and published his " Conference Sermons" " a volume 
 of sermons to be used in religious meetings where there is not present a 
 gospel minister." This book was very favorably received, and met with a 
 more rapid sale than the author anticipated. 
 
 He was among the first in projecting and laying the foundation of Am- 
 herst College ; gave largely of his means for its support, and spent some 
 time in traveling and collecting funds for its permanent establishment. 
 
 At length Mr. Clark withdrew from Amherst, in acceptance of a call to 
 the church in Berinington, Vt., where he was installed, June 14, 1826. His 
 early friend and teacher, Dr. Griffin, was a member of the Council, and 
 preached the sermon on the occasion. It was a peculiar satisfaction to 
 him to be in the vicinity of that venerable man, to whom he owed so 
 much, and whom he loved so well. Dr. Griffin was often at his house, and 
 in pleasant familiarity would pat him on his shoulder, and call him his boy. 
 
 His ministry here seems to have been a laborious and successful one. 
 As heretofore, he proclaimed the truth, and assailed wickedness with great 
 faithfulness and boldness; and the Spirit gave it efficacy, and stubborn 
 wills were bowed beneath it. But while some submitted, others were 
 more malignantly aroused. The following instance of threatening hostility, 
 with its remarkable result, used to be related by himself with peculiar 
 emotions. 
 
 " A few fellows, in their desperation, banded together violently to break 
 up an inquiry meeting, held at the Court House. They armed themselves 
 with stones, and proceeded to the place. When they came in sight of the 
 house, they were met by a power they had not thought of. The stones fell 
 from their hands, and the greater part of them went reverently in, and 
 submitted their minds to the instructions and influences, which, just before, 
 in their hatred, they meant to abolish. " 
 
 The following paper, from two gentlemen, members of the church in 
 Bennington, give other particulars of his ministry in this place. 
 
 " Mr. Clark being the only pastor of our denomination in the town, embrac- 
 ing a population of nearly four thousand, there being, also, several small vil- 
 lages remote from each other, his labors were necessarily severe. Enjoying 
 good health, he spared no pains to do everything in his power for the benefit 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XXUi 
 
 of his people. In addition to preaching three times on the Sabbath, he held 
 several other meetings in different parts of the town, and a stated weekly 
 meeting at the factory village of Hinsdillville. At this latter place, early in 
 the fall, a precious revival commenced, and spread with surprising power to 
 the other parts of the town. A day of fasting and prayer was now appoint- 
 ed. One of the large factory buildings was prepared for the accommoda- 
 tion of the people, and probably a larger concourse of persons came togeth- 
 er on that occasion than had ever before assembled in the town. An occa- 
 sion like this could not fail of eliciting Mr. Clark's best powers. The truth 
 fell from his lips with overwhelming power and energy, and being accom- 
 panied, as was very manifest, by the Spirit's agency, it cut its way, like 
 waves of fire, to the sinner's inmost soul. A considerable number, on the 
 spot, were convicted of sin, and it is believed were converted to God. The 
 cloud which had been hanging over us, now seemed to burst, and to deluge, 
 as it were, with salvation, the whole town. The Church, fearing that Mr. 
 C. would sink under his multiplied labors, called, at this time to his aid a 
 faithful brother in the ministry. Meetings were now held every evening in 
 different parts of the town, in connection with the general meeting once a 
 week held at the centre village. The work went on with great power and 
 steadiness, and continued through the winter, and resulted in bringing more 
 than one hundred converts into the Church, most of whom have done honor 
 to their profession, and many, we trust, are now enjoying the society of their 
 beloved pastor, in that bright world where they have met, to part no more 
 for ever. We have lived to see many revivals, but never have we witness- 
 ed one of more thrilling interest than this, or when the power of God was 
 more discernible. 
 
 " Mr. C. was happy, in devising means for blessing the dear people of his 
 charge. The revival had no sooner subsided, than he began to contemplate 
 with a melancholy interest, the ravages which Intemperance had made, and 
 was still making, in the town. At that time his people had not the light 
 which has been shed by the present Temperance Reform, to guide him. 
 Even good men had labored hitherto under the mistaken notion, that a mo- 
 derate use of alcoholic drinks is not only not hurtful, but beneficial. Mr. C. 
 felt, however, that something could, and must be done, to stay the ravages 
 of the destroyer. He came forward with this proposition, * Let the name 
 of every individual in the town be obtained, who is willing to report faith- 
 fully, what amount of distilled liquor he has used in his family during the 
 current year." 1 Strange as it may seem now, only twenty-five persons, 
 among a population of about four thousand, could be induced to go even 
 that length. As loose, however, as this compact was, it still resulted in 
 great good, for it demonstrated, what had not yet been found out among this 
 people, that total abstinence from ardent spirit was a practicable thing. The 
 year came round. None ! was appended to the names of eight out of 
 twenty-five. This result was both surprising and encouraging. The second 
 annual report was still more gratifying. The Society now numbered more 
 than one hundred members, most of whom had wholly abstained from the use-* 
 of distilled liquors. The sale of liquors in the town had been reduced nearly 
 
XXIV BIOGRAPHY 
 
 one-half. At this meeting the Society ventured to advance another step. 
 It was accordingly resolved to practice total abstinence from distilled spirit. 
 This, at that time, was thought to be a very ultra measure, and stirred up 
 the united wrath of the rum-drinkers and rum-sellers of the place. And 
 here commenced, permit us to state, the first organized, settled opposition to 
 Mr. C. in Bennington an opposition which was severe and unrelenting 
 but which only served to inspire him with increased zeal ana energy in car- 
 rying forward the cause of his Master. The Society now went steadily for- 
 ward, increasing in numbers and in usefulness. They have now adopted 
 the total abstinence pledge, and numbers over twelve hundred members, 
 and is one of the most thorough and efficient societies that we are ac- 
 quainted with in any part of the country. With all this before us, we cannot 
 help remarking, that the day of small things is not to be despised. 
 
 " One fact, in connection with the Temperance Reform in Bennington, we 
 cannot refrain from stating, as it as an illustration of Mr. Clark's manner of 
 unmasking error, and of his boldness in preaching the truth. The temper- 
 ance cause having advanced so far as to admit of a question whether pro- 
 fessors of religion ought to be engaged in the traffic or not, a Church meet- 
 ing was called to discuss the subject. At that time we had a very worthy 
 Deacon who was trafficking in the poison, who came forward, and in a la- 
 bored argument, tried to convince the Church, that, as the sale would go 
 on, it had better be. confined to conscientious persons, who would be more 
 decent about it than others. The Deacon had no sooner resumed his seal, 
 than Mr. Clark arose, and replied in substance, as follows : ' Strange doc- 
 trine this ! The argument of my brother goes too far. It would prove 
 that all the theatres, and brothels, should be kept by conscientious men, that 
 sinners might be guided down to hell the more decently. No! no! If it 
 must be sold, I would place at the tap the same old lying serpent that hand- 
 ed Eve the apple, that it might appear to be the very infernal traffic that 
 it is.' 
 
 " The Bible was a precious book to our beloved pastor. He was not only 
 himself a diligent student of it, but was unwearied in his efforts to promote 
 in others, a knowledge of the sacred word. During a considerable portion 
 of the time while he resided at Bennington, he superintended three weekly 
 Bible classes, in different parts of the town the one on the Sabbath at in- 
 termission, he called his ' Bibliary? to which all the congregation were in- 
 vited. These, as we trust many, and ourselves among the number, can tes- 
 tify, were seasons of great profit and interest. It was a source of high sat- 
 isfaction to him, to impart from his great and well stored mind, the results 
 of his deep research and profound reflections upon Divine truth. 
 
 " Mr. Clark was not only indefatigable in his efforts to promote the know- 
 ledge of the Scriptures, but he was, also, a warm patron and supporter of 
 schools and lyceums. As evidence of this we will state, that as one of us 
 was engaged, during our whole residence in Bennington, in conducting a 
 high school, if we were at all successful in that labor, (and the public must 
 now judge to what extent we were,) we owe that success more to his 
 counsel and hearty support, than to any other cause. 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XXV 
 
 "A spirited Lyceum, through his influence, was established, and sup- 
 ported with ability, while it had his presence to encourage and stimulate 
 Its members, and lecture before them. 
 
 " Mr. Clark, as a preacher, was bold, original, pungent, direct. No one 
 could listen to him during a single discourse, without feeling that he was 
 in the presence of a great and master spirit. He wielded the sword of the 
 Spirit, like some mighty giant, tearing, as it were, the stubborn oaks up by 
 the roots, and sweeping away the refuge of lies, dashing in pieces the false 
 hopes of the Church, giving no quarter to sin, in any shape or form, in high 
 places or low. No difficulty nor trials could daunt him, or divert him a 
 moment from his purpose. Whatever was truth, he would advocate it, no 
 matter what the opposition. Surrounded as he was with a mass of infi- 
 delity and ungodliness, it was not to be supposed that his bold and fearless 
 course would awaken no hostile feelings. Very soon after the great revival 
 of which we have spoken, the elements of wrath began to combine for his 
 overthrow and removal. His exposures of iniquity, both out of the church 
 and in, were too glaring to be endured in silence. His enemies not being 
 able to meet him in the fair and open field of argument, undertook to over- 
 throw him by the weapon of scandal. So great was the charm that accom- 
 panied his preaching, that some of his bitterest enemies never failed to be 
 among his auditors, although they would curse him the moment they left 
 the sanctuary. And some of them, so great was their desire to hear him, 
 and they were not willing to do it in an open manner, were found in 
 secret places, as they thought, unobserved, listening to the truth as it fell 
 from his lips, and yet would not come to Christ, that they might have life. 
 Infidelity was struck dumb before his powerful arguments, and some of 
 the most learned and able of all the sceptics in that place were brought to 
 embrace the Savior during his ministry. 
 
 " Mr. Clark's situation as a pastor, in consequence of the untiring oppo- 
 sition that he met with, having been persevered in for a number of years, 
 becoming at length so unpleasant, that after a connection of about five 
 years with the church and society, he requested them to unite with him in 
 calling a mutual Council, for his dismission. The Council, believing that 
 Mr. C. could be more useful in some other field of labor, advised to a disso- 
 lution of the pastoral relation. By the consent of all parties, this advice 
 was acquiesced in. The Council accompanied their act of dissolution with 
 a resolution, recommending Mr. Clark to the undiminished confidence of 
 the churches. 
 
 " The above account, we are sensible, does but slender justice to the 
 faithful, talented, and devoted ministry of your honored and lamented father 
 in Bennington. The revelation of secret things only, we believe, will fully 
 unfold all the beneficial results of his untiring labors among that people." 
 
 He received a dismission from his charge here, and in the fall of 1830, 
 went to Troy, N. Y., and again occupied the pulpit of Dr. Beman, who found 
 it necessary to travel to the south, on account of his health. He appears 
 4 
 
XXVI BIOGRAPHY 
 
 to have entered upon this field with great earnestness; and performed, 
 during his stay, a vast amount of labor. 
 
 The following brief sketch of his labors in this city, is given by Rev. Dr. 
 Beman. 
 
 " Your father commenced his labors in the first x'resbyterian Church, in 
 the Autumn of 1830. My own health had been for some time impaired, 
 and I had concluded, by the advice of friends, to spend the approaching 
 winter in the southern States. It was a great object with my congregation 
 and myself, to procure a suitable and efficient supply for my pulpit, during 
 my absence. My thoughts were first directed to your father, from the fact, 
 that I had known him intimately in early life. He had supplied my pulpit, 
 during a temporary illness on my part, in Portland, Maine, in 1811 ; and I 
 was at that time much interested in his preaching. I had been informed, 
 before I recommended him to my congregation, in Troy, that he would pro- 
 bably be willing to leave Bennington, if a promising field of labor were to 
 present itself. 
 
 " He accepted the invitation given to him by the Session of the First 
 Presbyterian Church, and after being dismissed from his pastoral charge, he 
 commenced his labors ui Troy, in the fall of 1830, soon after my departure 
 for the south. In this station, Mr. Clark was acceptable as a preacher, and 
 the Church and congregation were kept together, and increased under his 
 ministry. 
 
 " About the close of the year 1830, after mutual consultation and advice, 
 Mr. C. and the Session of the Church appointed what, with perhaps a sin- 
 gle exception, was a new thing in this part of the country ' a four days 
 meeting.' As the time approached the responsibility of the undertaking 
 seemed to increase, and they all felt it deeply. They betook themselves to 
 the throne of grace, and resolved to repose their trust in God, and meet the 
 occasion. They did so. Mr. C. enjoyed the labors of some faithful breth- 
 ren in the jninistry, and a deep impression was made during the meeting. 
 Many were convicted. Some ' who came to scoff, remained to pray.' All 
 before had been as quiet as death. The Churches in the city and neighbor- 
 hood had been, for some time, in a state of religious declension ; but a 
 blessed revival now commenced, which spread through the city, and ex- 
 tended to several Churches in the country. 
 
 " In the congregation to which Mr. C. ministered, the shower oi mercy was 
 extensive and refreshing. The revival continued, with greater or less pow- 
 er, through the winter. The Church was much engaged, and many who 
 had lived without hope and without God in the world, were converted. 
 The blessed fruits of this awakening are seen and felt in the Church to this 
 day. Some of the converts have already gone in triumph to heaven, 
 and others are walking with God on the earth. No doubt very many will 
 feel the benefit of Mr. Clark's labors and this revival, in an endless eternity. 
 
 " In the month of March, one hundred persons were received to the 
 Church, on profession of their faith ; and a number more, as the fruits of this 
 revival, at subsequent communions during the year. The Church, to this 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XXvH 
 
 day, look back to this time of refreshing, as one of the most blessed they 
 have ever enjoyed. 
 
 " Mr. Clark continued, as the supply of this congregation, till some time 
 in the month of June, when the pastor returned and resumed his labors. 
 His preaching was characterized by solemnity, directness, and power. The 
 Church felt it and sinners felt it and long will the memory of Daniel A. 
 Clark, as an able and faithful servant of God, be embalmed in the affections 
 of this people." 
 
 The following is an extract from a letter by an intelligent layman, in 
 relation to Mr. Clark's labors at Troy : 
 
 " Whilst a degree of deadness seemed to pervade the minds and hearts of 
 the Church, fears were entertained that the congregation ,would suffer from 
 the absence of their pastor. After laboring a few Sabbaths, Mr. Clark call- 
 ed a meeting of the Session, and the question was asked, what could be 
 done to interest the minds of the congregation on the subject of their spirit- 
 ual interests; or, in other words, most directly and powerfully to promote a 
 revival of religion ? It was proposed that a ' four days meeting ' should be 
 held, during which the truth might be- constantly held up before the minds 
 of the Church, and such of the impenitent as might be disposed or induced 
 to attend. In accordance with this plan, such a meeting was appointed 
 about the middle of December, and this was the first of those assemblages 
 in that section of the country, which have been since denominated, 'Pro- 
 tracted Meetings.' The blessing attending it exceeded the expectation of 
 the Church, and of those whose happy lot it was to labor in it. During this 
 meeting Mr. C. was favored with the assistance of the Rev. Mr. Kirk of Al- 
 bany, and Mr. Tracy of Nassau ; and subsequently, during a week, or more, 
 in the month of January, with that of the Rev. Dr. Griffin of Williams 
 College. Many were convicted and brought to a knowledge of the Savior, 
 and a powerful revival extended throughout the city, and to many places in 
 the vicinity. Many were added to the Rev. Dr. Beman's Church, and great 
 accessions were made to the other Presbyterian Churches, and to Churches 
 of other denominations. 
 
 " In adopting this novel measure, much solicitude was felt on the part both 
 of Mr. C. and the Church, and a fear lest the blessing might be withheld led 
 them, no doubt, to cast themselves on God for help. In Mr. C., this feel- 
 ing seemed manifest in addressing the assembly on one of the first days of 
 the meeting. Early the next morning, at a prayer meeting held at a pri- 
 vate house, a number of impenitent sinners presented themselves to be made 
 the subjects of prayer. From this period the work progressed with interest 
 to the opening of the spring. Many who labored with the preacher 
 through those interesting scenes, will ever remember the deep feeling and 
 the interest manifested by him in behalf of inquirers, lest they should con- 
 tinue to resist the truth, or settle on some false ground of hope; and in be- 
 half of converts, lest they should fail of deriving instruction and consolation 
 from the Word, necessary to their progress in the Christian race, and growth 
 in holiness." 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 Mr. Clark's labors in this place resulting as they did, were of course 
 highly appreciated, and will be remembered by many with joyful interest, 
 to the ages of eternity. He subsequently labored in Utica and vicinity, in 
 places where God was pouring out his Spirit. His preaching was much 
 sought after, and very highly prized in these scenes of hallowed in- 
 terest. He took up his abode for a short season in Utica. On his way to 
 this place, on board one of the canal boats, he met with an accident which 
 very sensibly affected one of his modes of communication and address. He 
 broke the thumb of his right hand, by which he was rendered incapable of 
 writing, except with the greatest difficulty, and then very illegibly. He 
 left Utica the latter part of June, 1832. He moved with his family on 
 Thursday: the cholera commenced its ravages three doors off, On the 
 following Sabbath, and before Wednesday, it had numbered two victims in 
 the very house Mr. Clark had left. Such Providential interpositions he 
 always observed, and was much affected by them. 
 
 On July 17, of this year, Mr. Clark was installed over the Presbyterian 
 church in Adams, Jefferson county, N. Y. This was his last charge, and 
 his labors were very brief; being obliged, by the state of his health, to 
 withdraw at the end of little more than a year. His iron constitution, 
 which had stood firm under the hardest labors and most heaving emotions, 
 now gave way. " The first indication of the fatal change," says one of his 
 sons, " occurred in this way. He had been laboring at Sackett's Harbor, a 
 town on the lake, and returned on Saturday evening, to supply his own 
 pulpit the next day. On Monday morning early, a carriage was sent, with 
 the earnest entreaty that he would immediately return to Sackett's Har- 
 bor, as the truth uttered by him on Saturday, had taken effect. To my 
 mother's amazement he refused to go, having ever showed the utmost 
 readiness to engage in such labors. On the same day he prepared a skele- 
 ton of a sermon, and handing it to my mother, burst into tears, and said, 
 ' My dear, I am done I cannot read that paper I leave you a widow and 
 my children orphans.' Never shall I forget, to my dying day, the manner 
 in which my father received the unwelcome evidence that his disease had 
 assumed a fatal character. His great strength was now gone. From that 
 ment he failed gradually, till God called him home." 
 
 Being no longer equal to the duties of a settled minister, he took leave 
 of his people at Adams, and removed to New York, in the fall of 1833, 
 where his children resided, and were engaging in business. He was attack- 
 ed, soon after he came to the city, with his first stroke of paralysis, which, 
 however, was so slight, that his friends were not sure of its nature. He 
 employed himself, partly, in preparing contributions for religious periodicals, 
 and in supplying, for a few weeks together, the vacant pulpit of some 
 neighboring church. Another and prominent labor of these days of weak- 
 ness, was getting ready for the press, and getting out, the three volumes 
 of Sermons which appeared in 1 836 and '7. His labor upon these was doubt- 
 less a relief to his mind, as he intimates in the preface. " But since his 
 health has failed and he can no longer stand in the holy place, rather than 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XX'ix 
 
 bear the agony of living to no purpose, he has decided to arrange and issue 
 these three volumes." 
 
 This " agony " he felt upon receiving, about this time, an eligible call to 
 settle ; and he wept that he could not accept it. He knew that a change 
 had come over him, but the nature of that change he could not understand. 
 
 His friends hoped much from a southern voyage and residence. In the 
 fall of 1834, he took passage for Charleston, S. C., where he spent the win- 
 ter, amid the hospitality and kindness peculiar to that city. Though in a 
 feeble state of health while there, he used both his voice and his pen. He 
 preached, occasionally, with some of his usual earnestness and energy; and 
 he contributed to the New York Observer his " First impressions of Charles- 
 ton," with the signature " A bird in the air." He also contributed con- 
 siderable matter to the Charleston Observer. At times his strength would 
 seem to return, and he would be capable, for a little season, of great mental 
 effort : then again, his disease would come back, and in a moment change 
 all this strength to utter imbecility. 
 
 In the spring of 1835, he returned with no improvement in his health. 
 Frequent depletion was resorted to, and continued while he lived, in order 
 to prevent the obstinate determination of blood to the head, which was the 
 ever pressing symptom. 
 
 In the fall of 1837, he was removed with the family to New Haven, in 
 the hope that a more quiet residence might prove beneficial to him. Here 
 new scenes, and new friends, seemed, at first, to produce a change for the 
 better. It was here that he preached, with great difficulty, his last sermon, 
 from the words : " JBehold, thou hast spoken and done evil things as thou 
 couldst." Jer. iii. :\ He was soon after seized with a fit of paralysis of so 
 severe a character, as to threaten a speedy termination of his life. His sons 
 were summoned from New York, with the expectation that he was then to 
 die ; but God's purpose was not so. The paralysis affected the right side, 
 and the organs of speech. After this, he was not able to walk with ease 
 and take active exercise, as he had before done. His condition, at this 
 time, is prophetically depicted by himself, in the second volume of his 
 Works, pp. 154, 155. 
 
 In the spring of 1838, finding that the removal was of no benefit to him, 
 the family returned to New York. During this year he gradually failed, 
 and was henceforth incapable of any mental effort. His disease came upon 
 him in renewed and severe attacks, till it broke down the strong texture 
 of his mind. He often expressed the wish that he might die in the full 
 possession of his faculties, and with his hopes of heaven firm and bright. 
 While he was favored with some seasons such as he desired, it was often 
 his lot to lie either spiritually or mentally under a cloud. He sometimes 
 expressed the fear that he should be lost ; that he had never been born of 
 the Spirit, and washed in the Redeemer's blood. When asked, why then 
 he attended meetings with so much interest, he replied, with emphasis, 
 " That he loved to see the cause of Zion prosper, and souls brought in, even 
 if he had no part in those provisions himself." 
 
 He evinced great tenderness of conscience, and said it grieved him that 
 
XXX BIOGRAPHY 
 
 he had ever requested any one to receive less than the stated price for any 
 article. His seasons of protracted depression and gloom were occasionally 
 relieved by the pleasing illusion that he was surrounded by old and dear 
 friends, who had been long dead ; and that two of his sons, who were tra- 
 veling in Europe, had returned, and were by his side. In one of his dark 
 hours, a friend said to him, " The Lord says, ' In six troubles I will be with 
 you, and in seven I will not forsake.' " He replied, that he had no objection 
 to the interpretation, and appeared composed and soothed by the thought. 
 It was pleasing to his friends to observe, that at those times when the light 
 of reason was dimmed by the thick and heavy darkness of his disease, there 
 were decisive indications of the strong religious habit of his mind, and of 
 his warm attachment to the cause of Christ. After he had lost the power 
 of speech, and even of consciousness, a,s it was thought, a friend related in 
 his room the particulars of a work of grace then in progress in Broadway 
 Tabernacle, where he loved to attend church when he was able. He re- 
 ceived the intelligence, and it seemed to thrill his bosom ; for he cast forth 
 at the close a beaming glance, and then burst into tears the way he had 
 for a long time expressed all kinds of emotion. Zion, for whose welfare he 
 labored in life, he appeared to love in death. On March 3, 1840, without a 
 struggle or a groan, he calmly fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
 He was faithfully attended during his protracted illness, by his intimate 
 friend, Dr. James C. Bliss, of New York, in whose skill his friends have 
 ever reposed the utmost confidence. His disease was one of rare occur- 
 rence the ossification of the arteries of the brain. 
 
 His funeral was attended on Friday, the 6th, by a large number of cler- 
 gymen and friends. The procession moved to the Br^idway Tabernacle, 
 where appropriate exercises were performed by Rev. Dr. Parker, (who de- 
 livered the address,) and by Rev. Dr. Patton and the Rev. William Adams, 
 in presence of a large concourse of people. Solemn is the scene when the 
 minister dies, and becomes the subject of the services he had so often per- 
 formed over the remains of others ; and preaches, not with the living voice 
 from the pulpit, but with silent eloquence from the coffin. On Saturday, 
 his remains were taken to New-Haven, and after religious exercises in Rev. 
 Henry Ludlow's Church, were consigned to the family resting place, in the 
 beautiful cemetery of that city. 
 
 It is proposed to conclude this sketch with some remarks upon Mr. Clark 
 as a man, a Christian, a minister, and a preacher; in other words, upon his 
 social, religious, and professional character. 
 
 In his social character, there was much simplicity and frankness. He was 
 ever ready to declare his sentiments ,with free, bold independence. This 
 trait, existing in connection with a deficiency of worldly tact and manage- 
 ment, not unfrequently brought him into circumstances of trial and diffi- 
 culty. Hence it was, that he had many very warm friends, and some as 
 warm enemies. But when injured, his seemed not the spirit of retaliation. 
 
 His solicitude for the right conduct, and present and future welfare of his 
 children, appears in letters which he wrote to them when absent from him. 
 The following items of advice, to a son in College, are sententious and forcible : 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 " O my son, it is easy to tell you how to be happy, and I will spend the 
 rest of this page in telling you how. Set your heart on God. Say to your- 
 self, God made me, and has a right to me, and shall have my whole heart. 
 Make it your business to prepare to be useful. Do nothing, merely because 
 you love to, unless it be wise, and right, and good. Do nothing, that you 
 will have to deny you did. Do nothing that you will be ashamed to have 
 it known you did. Do right. Do unto others as you would have them do 
 
 to you. Be the best scholar you can be. Lose no time ; time is money 
 
 Read your Bible daily, and every day pray for heavenly wisdom Refuse 
 
 to be found a moment in the company of vile men. Remember that char- 
 acter is made up of morsels ; every look, and gesture, and word, and smile, 
 
 and frown, constitutes each its distinct morsel of that character 0, my 
 
 son, you cannot cease to be, till the sun goes out, and time runs out, and 
 eternity wears out, and God shall cease to be. Now one that must live so 
 long, and whose happiness through all that long life, depends wholly on 
 character, canjaot take too much pains in forming that character just right. 
 I embrace religion, of course, in my calculations' respecting character. 
 What will render us estimable in the sight of God as well as in the sight of 
 men, is above all price." 
 
 " Again in another letter: "It will soon be too late. The College 
 
 character is fixed the first year ; and the character for life fixed in College, 
 and the character for eternity, fixed in early life. Now you must love your 
 Maker, or what can you love ? and must care for what he says, or whom 
 can you care for, or what ? How tremendous are the months that are now 
 revolving over you months that will tell on your character and destiny 
 when myriads of ages have rolled away?" 
 
 . He was. remarkable throughout his whole life for his industry. A gen- 
 tleman, who is a member of the Assembly in his native state, said of him : 
 " He was always busy, never lost any time, and entered with all his soul 
 into whatever engaged his attention." 
 
 In his religious character, Mr. Clark seems not to have been character- 
 ized by the cheerful and hopeful. In the fine language of Robert Hall, he 
 did not so much "soar to the heights, as sound the depths of Christian pie- 
 ty." Instead of " regaling himself with fruit from the tree of life, he was 
 often on the waves of an impetuous sea, doing business in the mighty wa- 
 ters." With all his experience of human depravity, and his profound esti- 
 mate of its malignant and dreadful energies, he had firm confidence in the 
 greatness of the atonement, and the greater energies, already pledged and 
 soon to be put forth, in the subjugation of a world to Christ. He loved to 
 contemplate God as on the throne, the Almighty Sovereign in the kingdom 
 of nature and of grace, achieving his benignant purposes, bringing into ser- 
 vice the wrath of his foes, securing the redemption of unnumbered souls, 
 and the glory of his own great name. 
 
 It is very manifest through all the preceding narrative, that Mr. Clark 
 was a great lover of revivals of religion, and he showed his attachment by 
 the zeal and power of his labors to promote them, while preparing for the 
 ministry through all his pastoral life arid after he ceased to be a pastor, 
 
XXX11 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 his heart seemed full and intensely glowing when in the midst of a revival 
 scene. 
 
 Mr. Clark loved the sanctuary, and the services and ordinances of God's 
 house. " I would do," he says, " without a roof to. cover my head, and have 
 my lodging in the clefts of the rocks, but I must go to the house of the Lord 
 and fix my dying grasp upon the horns of the altar." It was strikingly so ; for 
 the very last time he ever went out, it was to stagger to a Methodist Church 
 near his dwelling, that he might still again worship God in " the sanctuary." 
 
 Mr. Clark loved very ardently the cause of the Bible and missions, and 
 all those operations which are sustained^for the saving of the nations, and 
 the ushering in of the day of millennial glory. No one, who has read the 
 " Church Safe," throughout which the heart seems to speak, can doubt Mr. 
 Clark's warm attachment to the benevolent doings of his times. " When 
 the bosom of charity shall beat a little stronger, if there shall be necessity, 
 men will sell houses or farms to save the sinner from hell, and the child 
 will sit down and weep, who may not say, that his father anc^mother were 
 the friends of missions. And what parent would entail such a curse upon 
 his children, and prevent them from lifting up their heads in the millenium? 
 I had rather leave mine toiling in the ditch, there to enjoy the luxury of 
 reflecting that a father's charity made them poor. Poor ! They are poor who 
 cannot feel for the miseries of a perishing world, to whom God has given 
 abundance, but who grudge to use it for his honor. Teach your children 
 charity, and they can never be poor." 
 
 Mr. Clark loved and honored prayer. He seems to have laid great stress 
 upon it as the life and power of all other means. He sought it for himself 
 through all his ministry ; he sought it with great earnestness for a dying 
 world. " The observance of the first Monday in January as a day of prayer 
 for the conversion of the world," writes the Rev. Leicester A. Sawyer, " was 
 first proposed by Rev. Daniel A. Clark, to the Presbytery of Watertown, 
 N. Y., at a semi-annual meeting of that body, held in February, 1833. A 
 memorial was addressed by that Presbytery to the General Assembly of the 
 same year, requesting the Assembly to take order in favor of the observance 
 of that concert. The memorial was favorably received, and led to the re- 
 commendation of the annual concert to the numerous churches in connec- 
 tion with the Assembly. Mr. Clark was chairman of the committee which 
 reported the memorial above mentioned, and was the author of that in- 
 teresting document." Mr. Clark prayed himself like a man who was 
 accustomed to the exercise. He prayed in the sanctuary with great fervor, 
 often with a surprising richness and scope of sentiment. His range and 
 variety were indeed remarkable: few men whom we have heard in public 
 prayer exceeded him in these respects. He was loth to cease praying with 
 others, even after his faculties had become exceedingly impaired. In his 
 clearer seasons, he would often call his family around his bed, and pray 
 with them; and continued to do this, after he had so far lost the power of 
 articulation, that they could not understand him. Entering by accident a 
 female prayer meeting, among the last days he walked out, he was sup- 
 posed not to hear; and when asked to take a part, he at first refused, but 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XXXlli 
 
 soon broke out in a fervent, heavenly prayer, with an originality of concep- 
 tion and freedom of utterance which astonished his friends. It is, indeed, 
 as the poet says, 
 
 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, 
 The Christian's native air ; 
 His watch- word at the gate of death 
 He enters heaven by prayer." 
 
 In his professional career^ Mr. Clark was hearty and laborious. He 
 labored, we have seen, for the intellectual elevation of his people. He 
 labored for their moral improvement, for their deliverance from intempe- 
 rance and all degrading vice. He labored more especially for their conver- 
 sion to God, and preparation for heaven. He sought this end in pastoral 
 visitation. During one whole winter, in one of his most arduous fields, he 
 appointed on the Sabbath, family visits for every morning in the week; and 
 he met the families designated, and the neighbors who came in, making 
 sometimes quite a congregation ; and his labors of this sort, were greatly 
 blessed. He sought the same great end in his preaching. He loved to 
 preach ; and he gratified this affection by actually preaching a great deal, 
 both in season and out of season. He was accustomed to go out and preach 
 statedly in the neighborhoods of his society. It was not uncommon for him 
 to preach three times on the Sabbath, and on every evening in the week. And 
 then when he went from home, he would preach as he could find opportuni- 
 ty. Even, when on a journey, as he stopped for a night in a village, he 
 would sometimes make his arrangements, issue his notice, cause the bell to 
 be rung, and preach to those who might assemble, and in the morning go on 
 his way. His repeated declaration was, " I must work while the day lasts," 
 and he did work with great constancy. His constitution was a strong one, 
 as it must have been, to sustain the earnest labors of twenty-one years, with 
 the loss of but a single Sabbath from ill health. 
 
 We here introduce extracts from two letters, written by two clergymen of 
 the Presbyterian Church, witnesses of Mr. Clark's labors at the time, which 
 bring out still further the traits of his religious character, and professional 
 course. 
 
 The first, an esteemed minister in Vermont, writes: 
 
 " I would speak first of how much Mr. Clark was loved and admired as a 
 a preacher by his friends, which were many. I had the privilege of sitting 
 under his ministry one year. I have ever esteemed it one of the most pre- 
 cious years of my life. I lived three milesj^m the place of worship, yet I 
 do not recollect that I missed of hearing him a single Sabbath. The reason 
 was, I could not bear to forego the luxury of attending upon his preaching. 
 I speak the words of soberness when I say, that during that time 1 never 
 heard a sermon but I was sorry when it was done. 
 
 " The effect of his eloquence, of the boldness of his conceptions, of his 
 striking and appropriate figures upon his hearers, was often very great. A 
 lady remarked to me, that at one time, his eloquence had such an over- 
 5 
 
XXXIV BIOGRAPHY 
 
 powering effect upon her, that she felt afraid that she should die if he proceeded 
 farther. I am conscious of having experienced feelings somewhat similar 
 more than once, while listening to him. We felt, when he spoke, that 
 there was power power of thought, power of illustration, accompanied by 
 a powerful voice, whose deep tones seemed at times to shake the founda- 
 tions of the sanctuary. 
 
 " Though Mr, Clark prepared his two written sermons every Sabbath, 
 still he excelled as an extempore preacher. This I had abundant reason 
 to know, as he often attended a third service, in the chapel in our village. 
 One Sabbath afternoon, a gentleman, who was about to go out as a foreign 
 missionary, preached for him, from the words, " The night is far spent, the 
 day is at hand ; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness," &c. In 
 the evening, Mr. Clark came to our chapel, and preached from the same 
 text two full hours. During all this time, every eye was fixed upon the 
 speaker; there was not one exhibited weariness. Many were heard 
 next day to say, " We were sorry when the sermon was done we should 
 have been willing to have listened two hours longer." That sermon was a 
 topic of conversation in the village for weeks after it was delivered. In- 
 deed, his sermons were generally a topic of conversation in our village, for 
 the week following. I remember distinctly feeling every hour, for more 
 than a week, the impression that one of his sermons made upon me, from 
 the words, " Wherein is he to be accounted of?" And though ten years 
 have elapsed since the evening I heard the sermon, I remember that he told 
 us how the text came to his mind, while lying awake at the solemn hour 
 of midnight, and how the sentiment of the text unfolded to his mind and 
 impressed his heart. 
 
 " Mr. Clark's sermons were filled with thought, often original, always 
 concisely and strikingly expressed. I was often impressed with this fact, 
 while a student in the classical seminary at B. The teacher gave us an 
 exercise every Monday morning, to repeat one or more thoughts of the ser- 
 mons we had heard the previous Sabbath. I observed that we always 
 had an abundance of them when Mr. Clark had been the preacher, some- 
 times a meagre supply, when others had preached. 
 
 " The power of God, as exhibited in governing a revolted world, a race 
 of rebels, seemed to have deeply impressed Mr. Clark's mind, and to have 
 given shape and character to his conceptions. He loved to dwell on the 
 text, " Thou shall make the wrath of man to praise thee, and the remainder 
 thereof thou shalt restrain." He. loved to tell how God controlled, and 
 overpowered, and changed the hearts of his enemies, while in the undis- 
 turbed exercise of their free aggkicy. He abounded in anecdotes illustra- 
 tive of this great truth. 
 
 " Mr. Clark excelled in his knowledge of the unrenewed human heart; in 
 portraying its desperate depravity, its opposition to God and to holiness. His 
 faithful exhibitions of the native human heart procured him many enemies, 
 and the exhibition of their enmity, which he saw and felt, but served to 
 give him a more vivid impression of their wickedness, and to induce him 
 to hold up more prominently their fearful guilt. Perhaps he erred some- 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. .. XXXV 
 
 times, in needlessly exasperating the impenitent, by too honestly giving 
 utterance to his heartfelt and unmitigated abhorrence of their guilt and 
 rebellion. 
 
 " Mr. Clark was not one of those preachers who think it expedient to 
 hold back some of the doctrines of the Bible, during seasons of great re- 
 ligious excitement. The first time I heard him preach, was under the fol- 
 lowing circumstances. A powerful revival had just commenced in a 
 manufacturing village in the town of B. A great number were awakened, 
 and deeply alarmed, but there had been but few conversions. In view of 
 the existing state of things, the Church had appointed a day of fasting and 
 prayer. The meeting was held in a large dry-house, connected with a 
 woollen factory. It was computed that nearly one thousand persons were 
 present. The deepest soWmnity and stillness prevailed, interrupted only 
 by the occasional sigh or groan of a burdened heart. A neighboring min- 
 ister preached in the morning. Mr. Clark, in the afternoon, to the surprise 
 and grief of many, myself among the rest, preached on the sovereignty of 
 God. But that sermon told on those awakened guilty hearts, and from 
 that hour, the revival went on with increased power. As a master work- 
 man, he looked over that immense audience, and saw how and where to 
 strike the blow. 
 
 " In conclusion, I would remark, that Mr. Clark eminently excelled in 
 imparting Biblical instruction. His knowledge of the Scriptures was great, 
 and he possessed a peculiar faculty of imparting that knowledge to others. 
 All pressed to his Bible classes, young and old, infidel and Christian." 
 
 The other, a respected clergyman in western New York, says : 
 
 " When I was a youth, while residing in Milford, Mass., I became deeply 
 interested in the writings and character of Mr. Clark, by reading his tract, 
 * The Church Safe.' My pastor, the Rev. David Long, thought so much of 
 that production, that he caused it to be publicly read on the Sabbath. 
 
 " My first acquaintance with Mr. Clark was formed at the time he visit- 
 ed Homer, Courtlandville, and vicinity I should think, in 1831. A ' four 
 days meeting' was attended at McLean, in Groton, Tompkins County. It 
 was conducted by several pastors, who invited Mr. Clark to preach. He 
 complied, enlisting his whole soul in the work. I recollect several of his 
 texts: Jer. iii. 5. "Behold, thouhast spoken and done evil things as thou 
 couldest." While he was preaching on that text, such was the view of 
 human depravity which he gave, and such was the sense which I had of 
 my own native depravity, that a faintness came over me ; and I really be- 
 lieve that if it had not been for the hope which I had in the atonement of 
 Jesus, I should have sunk to the floor. Another text was Luke x. 11. 
 " Notwithstanding, be ye sure of this, that the kingdom of God is come 
 uigh unto you." This was the closing sermon of the meeting it was 
 most affecting. He told the people, that as he should depart from the vil- 
 lage, he would pause on yonder hill, and pour one more flood of tears over 
 sinners in that place, who had rejected the kingdom of God, though it had 
 come so nigh unto them. 
 
XXXVI BIOGRAPHY 
 
 " On one of the days of the meeting, a pious woman inquired of me, ' Is 
 that the Mr. Clark who wrote The Church Safe ?' On being assured that 
 it was, ' Then,' said she, ' I must speak with him. Immediately she was 
 introduced. As she took his hand, she said with much emotion, ' That tract 
 The Church Safe has done my soul so much good, that I felt as if I must 
 shake hands with the man who wrote it.' ' My good woman,' said Mr. Clark, 
 bursting into tears, * I am thankful to the Lord if my poor labors have 
 been useful to you.' I was delighted with his Christian simplicity, and 
 more still, with the sincere gratitude which he so feelingly expressed, for 
 the evidence that he had been useful to an humble individual. 
 
 " It was either a little prior, or a little subsequent to the meeting at 
 McLean, that I had the pleasure of visiting with Mr. Clark, at the residence 
 of a mutual friend of ours, or rather, his particular friend, and the friend of 
 my ancestors. Mr. Clark and this pious layman, had been intimately ac- 
 quainted with each other at Amherst, Mass. This good man had passed 
 through changing scenes ; he was once in a situation among New-England 
 farmers, as is denominated by the significant phrase ' good circumstances.' 
 But at the time of our visit, he was a laborious tenant upon the farm of an- 
 other. He was at a little distance from us, stooping down, busily engaged at 
 his toil. Mr. Clark, standing in a thoughtful posture, .fixed his eyes upon 
 him, as if he were taking a serious retrospect of his past history, when, ad- 
 dressing himself to me, he uttered the following expression, with an em- 
 phasis which I can never write ' God loves that man? I suppose that it is 
 impossible for me to convey to others the impression which this remark 
 made upon my mind. 
 
 " Mr. Clark's sermons, I find, are most valued by that class of Christians 
 who are intelligent, who have been much in the furnace of affliction, and 
 who are best acquainted with the deep recesses of their own hearts. His 
 sermons will not be appreciated by those who just run them over, glancing 
 at the heads and the conclusion. They must be read studiously and devo- 
 tionally, then they will do the soul good. I consider them as admira- 
 bly adapted to be useful to Churches that are destitute of preaching. 
 ' God loved that man,' I have no doubt, and loves him still more as his spi- 
 rit mingles amid the spirits of the just made perfect." 
 
 It is a gratifying circumstance, when the sermons of one, who was heard 
 with so marked interest and profit, are given to the public. Those who 
 heard Mr. Clark, will be glad to get possession of his printed discourses. 
 The eloquence that thrilled us, when we listened to the living voice of its 
 author, we long to take to our closets and re'ad. No person of discernment 
 can read far in these pages, without perceiving that the author possessed a 
 strongly marked intellect, which he could easily put under the highest 
 pressure of feeling ; that he was not remarkable for the refined, the acute, 
 the hair-splitting, but for the strong, the massive, the weighty; that the 
 reasoning faculty in him was of the practical, common sense sort ; the ima- 
 gination, within certain limits, vigorous and good ; the power of language, 
 original and striking. 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. XXXVll 
 
 Perhaps the attempt to sketch the characteristic features of these ser- 
 mons, in the same volume which contains them, is superfluous, as every 
 reader has an opportunity to judge for himself. We ask, however, to be in- 
 dulged in this respect, that we may complete the estimate of Mr. Clark's 
 powers as a herald of the everlasting gospel. 
 
 Thes* sermons are constructed not for a temporary, but a permanent and 
 progressive popularity. They have not the light and frothy brilliancy which 
 would fit them to be gazed at and admired for a day, and then to be for- 
 gotten, but they possess those at once solid and attractive qualities, which 
 will cause them to be read in far future times. 
 
 The subjects upon which these sermons are written are of a general and 
 permanent interest. While they are not so prominently experimental as are 
 found in the discourses of some preachers, they are such as the mind and 
 heart respond to, and are deeply interested in. Mr. Clark seems not so 
 much at home on topics which lead to a nice analysis of the spiritual man, 
 as upon those which are connected with the security, and the certain tri- 
 umph of the Christian on the one hand ; with the depravity, the madness, 
 the impotence, the sure defeat and the utter shame and ruin of the enemy 
 of God on the other. The two contrasted subjects, " The Church Safe," 
 and, " Nothing Safe but the Church," furnish the field, over which he rang- 
 ed the most adroitly and powerfully. Mr. Clark takes pleasure in accom- 
 panying the Church through her conflicts, and developing the stability of 
 her basis, and the invincible might of her Protector. He loves to group to- 
 gether and accumulate on his pages the perfect evidence of her safety. 
 
 We find all the great doctrines of the Christian system brought -out in 
 the sermons of Mr. Clark, with the utmost distinctness. The trumpet in 
 no place gives an uncertain sound. We do not read far to learn, that the 
 author is a firm believer in the doctrines of the Trinity, of the atonement, 
 total depravity, regeneration, election, the saints' perseverance, and eternal 
 reward and punishment. 
 
 Whilst the sermons are not formally, dryly doctrinal, in them all we 
 have discussions of great truths and principles, which give them a solid 
 and instructive character. On one page, the attributes and glory of God 
 meet and awe us ; on another, the love and offices of Christ attract and 
 give us peace ; from another, the Comforter offers to come into our hearts; 
 in this discourse, a picture of human vileness pains and humbles us ; in that, 
 the law draws upon us its two-edged sword; in the other, mercy points to 
 the place of refuge from the avenging stroke. The whole gospel is here 
 strongly and discriminately presented. Mr. Clark contended earnestly for 
 the faith and the order of the gospel. His arguments and efforts were 
 rather with the semi-Christian, who professedly received the gospel, but re- 
 jected its great doctrines, than with those who rejected the Bible and all 
 that was in it ; or with brethren who differed from him in some minor 
 shades of sentiment. 
 
 In the general arrangement and structure of his sermons, Mr. Clark ex- 
 hibits a good degree of simplicity. They never appear so elaborately 
 studied, or curiously drawn out, as to cause perplexity to the mind ; or as 
 
 " W*,"'^' '* 
 
XXXV111 BIOGRAPHY 
 
 to lead us to the bones for the most striking part of the structure. He fre- 
 quently adopts the textual mode ; and where it is not a breaking up of the 
 words of the text into the heads of the sermon, which he sometimes 
 does, there is a very free statement of topics, one after the other, as they 
 are naturally suggested by the passage chosen as the basis of the discourse. 
 For instance, the forty-sixth sermon " The honest and faithful ministry" 
 on 2 Cor. iv. 1, 2. 
 
 The textual division has this advantage ; the preacher has an opportunity 
 to bring out the full and rich meaning of the passage in hand. The sermon 
 grows out of the text ; separate from the text, it can have no existence ; it 
 is biblical and authoritative. We ought not to despise the textual style of 
 proceeding, though some seem to do it, as not being so scholarlike, so con- 
 formable to rule, so favorable to unity, and to a logical and symmetrical 
 discourse as some other. It is the style which the heart often inclines to, 
 in its earnest desire to bring forth and make effective the simple gospel 
 upon the souls of men. We have thought, sometimes, that when we have 
 the least disposition to preach ourselves, we have the strongest inclination 
 to arrange our matter in the humble, unpretending, textual way. 
 
 This more biblical mode, in the hands of Mr. Clark, is admirably vindi- 
 cated. Few men have the power he exhibits of building striking and in- 
 teresting paragraphs upon very common-place heads. The plan may be 
 almost stupidly textual ; but in the filling up,, there will be original and 
 vigorous thoughts, in very cogent language. Perhaps there is no better 
 test of real power than this. The preacher, who will take the common 
 subjects and the common topics of discourse, and imbue them with a more 
 energetic spirit, and invest them with a deeper and more commanding in- 
 terest, has the very best power and qualification for his work, and will 
 secure the best kind of popularity. 
 
 Mr. Clark is not at all a hortatory preacher ; he furnishes a good pro- 
 portion of clear and weighty discussion. He does not assail us with fierce, 
 unbased appeals ; never attempts to carry the heart by hurling against it 
 volleys of rattling words. He first packs together a solid body of truth, and 
 then brings that body in contact, either as fire to melt, or as- a hammer to 
 break the rock in pieces. 
 
 He invariably employs the popular and rhetorical style of reasoning. His 
 arguments are remarkable for a reliance upon Scripture facts to give them 
 force and conclusiveness. In some of his best efforts, there is no other 
 reasoning than a logical adducing and linking together of scriptural facts. 
 The first sermon, entitled " The Church Safe," is a fine example of this. As- 
 surance of the proposition is made out, 1, "From the firmness and stability 
 of the Divine operations." Under this head, expectation is excited. It is 
 strengthened, 2, by a view of " What God has done for his Church." Un- 
 der this head, the prominent Divine interpositions in favor of Zion's "interests 
 are graphically and rapidly sketched. 3. " God is doing now just such 
 things as he has done." 4. " The expectation is consummated by a glance 
 at the promises and the prophecies." As a specimen of the graphic and 
 condensed style with which Mr. Clark proceeds in this kind of writing, we 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 adduce a paragraph or two. In his sketch of what God has done for the 
 Church, he says : 
 
 " Let us retrace, for a moment, a few pages of her history, and we shall 
 see that when the Church was low, he raised her ; when she was in danger, 
 he saved her. Amid all the moral desolations of the old world, the Church 
 never became extinct. And he at length held the winds in his fist, and 
 barred the fountains of the deep, till Noah could build the ark, and the 
 Church could be housed from the storm. How wonderful were his inter- 
 positions, when the Church was embodied in the family of Abraham! In 
 redeeming her from Egyptian bondage, how did he open upon that guilty 
 land all the embrasures of heaven, till they thrust out his people ! And 
 he conducted them to Canaan by the same masterly hand. The sea 
 divided, and Jordan rolled back its waters ; the rock became a pool, and the 
 heavens rained them bread, till they drank at the fountains and ate of the 
 
 fruits of the land of promise When the Church diminished, 
 
 and her prospects clouded over, he raised up reformers. Such were Sam- 
 uel, and David, and Hezekiah, and Josiah, and Daniel, and Ezra, and Nehe- 
 miah : such were all the prophets. Each in his turn became a master 
 builder, and the temple arose, opposition notwithstanding. . . . Again, 
 under the apostles, how did her prospects brighten ! In three thousand 
 hearts, under a single sermon, commenced the process of sanctification. 
 The very cross proved an engine to erect her pillars ; the flames lighted 
 her apartments, and the blood of the martyrs cemented the walls of her 
 temple, and contributed to its strength and beauty. Every dying groan 
 alarmed the prince of hell, and shook the pillars of his dreary domain." 
 Vol. I. pp. 44, 45. 
 
 We set down " The Church Safe" as, on the whole, the most admirable 
 production of its author. Few sermons have made a stronger sensation on 
 their publication. It was extensively sought and read, and contributed not 
 a little to awaken, the benevolent energies of the Church, to the enterprise 
 before her. The writer vividly remembers the evening when the village, 
 where he resided, were summoned together to the reading of this sermon, 
 by a young man who had brought it in from abroad. It is no small achieve- 
 ment to have prepared and put forth to the world one such discourse. 
 
 The sermon, entitled " The Enemies of the Church made to promote her 
 Interests," Vol. II., p. 7., is another fine specimen of argumentation from facts. 
 Here, as in the preceding, they are marshalled in the most admirable order. 
 There is a quick and strong movement ; at once rhetorical beauty and flow, 
 and argumentative clenching. The sermon is a good example of a discourse, 
 in which unpalatable truths are set forth and firmly established by the sim- 
 ple force of facts. The facts are so employed as to hedge up the hearer to 
 the conclusion he hates to come to. The obnoxious point is God's sove- 
 reignty in the use and disposal, the award and punishment of his rebellious 
 creatures, a point kindred with that which our Savior, in a similar way, 
 fixed incontrovertibly upon his hearers, in the village where he had been 
 
Xl BIOGRAPHY 
 
 brought up. It is an example worthy of imitation, whenever we are to 
 propound truths in the face of strong prejudices and passions ; let the 
 preacher keep to the ground of God's simple sayings, and the admitted facts 
 of his Providence, and the deep unsilenced monitions of conscience, and if 
 he does not produce conviction and belief of the truth, he will do some- 
 thing toward checking cavils and silencing objections. 
 
 Mr. Clark bears some resemblance to President Edwards in his manner 
 of reasoning and discussion. Neither of them falls into the gratuitous blun- 
 der of attempting to shore up the Divine affirmation of a doctrine, by their 
 own arguments. The doctrine is received upon the Divine testimony. This 
 perfectly establishes it. The main object of the argument or illustration is 
 indirectly to do away objections and prejudices, and directly to commend the 
 truth to the hearer's conscience; to make it real, vivid, convicting, arous- 
 ing to the sinner's mind. It is the blindness of men which constitutes the 
 grand barrier to the progress and the redeeming results of truth. If the 
 preacher can but give to truth breadth and body, and impart reality to its 
 disclosures, men wiL see it; and the next thing with many will be, they will 
 feel it; finally, the Spirit helping, they will receive it. 
 
 The reductio ad absurdum is a form of argument, in which our author 
 seems to be much at home. He wields it now and then with terrible, al- 
 most annihilating power. In connection with it, there occasionally appears 
 a little spice of satire; and a disposition to confound his opponent and cover 
 him with shame, instead of satisfying and recovering him to the path of 
 truth. In some instances, he runs, in the first place, the erroneous position 
 to its legitimate results, and holds up the glaring absurdities of the case, and 
 then breaks out in a strain of the most vehement reprobation of the obnox- 
 ious point. For example, on the error that Christ is a finite created being : 
 
 " He indebted to another for his own existence, but we must trust in him 
 for eternal life ; he our shield, and still he has no power of his own to pro- 
 tect ; he our guide, but another must enlighten and guide him ; he our in- 
 tercessor, and still he cannot know when we pray If there is a 
 
 scheme, which rather than any other, charges God foolishly, makes the 
 plainest truth a mystery, and the whole Bible a bundle of absurdities, and 
 proudly conducts its votaries to death, it is that which thus quenches the 
 light of Israel. Must I choose between it and open infidelity, I would be 
 an infidel. By the same dash with which I blot the name of the Redeemer, 
 I would obliterate the Father, and believe the grave the end of me. I would 
 not waste my time and strength, and torture my conscience, to mutilate the 
 book of God ; but would believe the whole a lie, and warm myself in its 
 blaze, and wish I were a brute. Then I would calmly expect one day to 
 be a supper for the worms, free from dread of the worm that shall never 
 die." Vol. I., p. 343, 
 
 There is a similar strain in another sermon, in which the same low views 
 of Christ as above are opposed. Our author is speaking of the incalculable 
 injury, which even a doubt of the proper Divinity of Christ would be to the 
 believer : 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. xli 
 
 " That doubt would mar their creed ; for they must yield other doctrines, 
 when their Redeemer has become a creature. That atonement, which he 
 only could make ; that ruin of our nature which he only can repair ; that 
 ever-enduring hell, from which he only can rescue us ; that Sabbath, which 
 his rising made; that Comforter, whom he kindly sent; and that plenary 
 inspiration of the Scriptures, which establishes his Divinity, must all be 
 plucked from their creed, and it would stand then, like a pine, lightning- 
 smitten, scorched in its every leaf, and rived to its deepest roots, to be the 
 haunt of the owl and the curse of the forest. When you shall blast my 
 creed like this, you may have, for a farthing, the remnant of my poor, mu- 
 tilated Bible, and 1 will sit down and weep life away, over this benighted 
 world, to which is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever." Vol. I. 
 p. 295. 
 
 These passages are exceedingly powerful and striking; they were writ- 
 ten, unquestionably, under a mighty tide of emotion. Mr. Clark, we think, 
 often wrote in this mood ; and in the rush of feeling and strength of ex- 
 pression dictated thereby, now and then there would escape from him a 
 sentiment, very nearly transcending the bounds of truth and propriety. We 
 cannot but "doubt the correctness and wisdom of declaring or implying, in 
 any connection, that absolute infidelity is rather to be chosen, than that 
 form of Christianity, which denies the Divinity of its author. 
 
 The style of Mr. Clark is throughout very decisively characterized by 
 strength. It is manifest that he aimed chiefly at this ; that to this he was 
 willing to sacrifice the light and winning graces of language. In his pre- 
 face, he expresses the conviction, " that writings are often spoiled by too 
 much smoothing and polishing. Hence the present volumes are permitted 
 lo go forth with those occasional roughnesses, which, it is hoped, may not 
 give offence, but simply stir up thought and rouse proper feeling." Mr. 
 Clark's prominent faults and excellences, both in language and spirit, are 
 to be traced to the reaching forth of a fervid and powerful mind for great 
 strength of thought and diction. There is uncommon compactness and 
 condensation in our author's style. There are but few words which can be 
 safely blotted out ; nor, by recasting, can we diminish the space a thought 
 occupies. There is a very sparing use of epithets and qualifying terms. 
 The principal words are selected with so much precision generally, that he 
 succeeds in conveying his idea without the aid of thronging expletives and 
 adjuncts. When reading him, we are constrained sometimes to pause and 
 admire the amount and pungent force of meaning, conveyed by some single 
 word, or brief combination of words. This is one of the very highest ex- 
 cellences of style every word fraught with meaning. It takes some a 
 long time to get weaned from their love of the jingle of adjectives and 
 adjuncts, though assured, from every quarter, that no otlfer single thing 
 does more to encumber and enfeeble the style. One of the great rhetorical 
 sins in preaching, it seems to us, is overdoing saying too much on the to- 
 pics introduced, and especially taking up altogether too much time in say- 
 ing what we do say. 
 5* 
 
Xlii BIOGRAPHY 
 
 Mr. Clark has not only strength he has frequently a simple elegance and 
 harmony. This harmony, indeed, is very common, when it is not disturbed 
 by a bold and startling harshness. The following is a fair specimen of the 
 often easy and musical flow of the sentences. " Individuals may prosper 
 most when they are nearest destruction. The old world and the devoted 
 cities were never more prosperous, than when their last sun was rising. 
 Men may be ripe for the scythe of death, their cup of iniquity full, while 
 yet their fields wave with the abundant harvests, and the atmosphere is 
 fragrant with the odors of the ripened fruits and flowers, and echoes with 
 the song of the cheerful laborers." 
 
 Another attribute for which Mr. C.'s style is remarkable is vivacity. 
 There is nothing about it dry, abstract, dead. Every thing is living, mov- 
 ing. He is almost constantly giving us vivid pictures. He shows great 
 skill in gathering and grouping the interesting circumstances of a scene or 
 case. It is this skilful touching of some characteristic circumstance, which 
 brings before the mind the picture of a whole scene : " How many, once as 
 rich as you, are now poor ; or as healthy as you, are now in the grave ; 
 had a home as you have, but it burned down ; had children, as, it may be, 
 you have, but the cold blast came over them and they died. And was it 
 not kindness in God, that saved you what you have ?" Another example : 
 " Where had we been if the hand of God had not been under us ? To what 
 world had we fled, when some friend was dosing our eyes? How employed 
 on the day of our funeral solemnities ?" Once more : " Were Christ to 
 come again, and put himself in the power of sinners, would not many of 
 our communicants leave the sacrament, and go away to crucify him ?" It 
 is very obvious that nearly all the peculiar freshness and force of these pas- 
 sages, is owing to the striking pictures brought before us. Mr. Clark's 
 writings abound in examples of what Campbell calls " speciality " in the 
 use of terms ; that is, the seizing upon those which are particular and de- 
 terminate, which, of course, present a more vivid image. He was more 
 remarkably characterized by the use of this figure,, if it may be called a 
 figure, than any preacher of our acquaintance. We perceive it in every 
 paragraph, almost in every sentence. Everywhere we are met with the 
 specific stroke. Hence, common things are said in a way to be very strik- 
 ing. For instance, " The cause of intemperance moved on briskly, till it 
 was discovered that the Church held in her fellowship those who would 
 drink of the cup of devils, but was stayed in its march till she had time to 
 entomb her inebriates" In another somewhat rough extract, " If the arti- 
 cle must be sold, for the use, and ruin, and utter damnation of men, I would 
 place at the tap the same lying serpent that handed Eve the apple, that it 
 might appear the very infernal commerce that it is." 
 
 To speak of a property kindred with the above, we may add, that Mr. 
 Clark's style istenlivened and strengthened with a great deal of rapid and 
 bold metaphor. It is everywhere a leading characteristic. He speaks of 
 " reining in the passions ;" of " cradling the corrupt passions ;" of " feeding 
 the appetite;" " blunting the reason ;" " killing the keenness of conscience ;" 
 of " hewing down men in the prime of life ;" of " being harnessed for the 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Divine service ;" of " digging- after comforts ;" of " fencing the truth 
 from the sinner's dying pillow;" of "wading to the grave in tears." 
 
 We find in our author none of the extended, overwrought figure which 
 we so often find in President Davies' Sermons. Clark frequently does 
 in a line, when the imagination is addressed, what Davies employed a 
 page in doing. Perhaps the former was too quick and glancing in his 
 strokes of this sort ; certainly the latter did more execution on the popular 
 mind; the former has this praise, that he is more Demosthenean. Mr. 
 Clark often uses Scripture facts metaphorically, and with good effect. 
 " Paul had gone to lay waste that very Church, which, a few days after, 
 it was his honor and joy to edify. The devourer was caught with the 
 prey in his teeth and made a lamb." Again, " The gospel may produce 
 wrath and still be a savor of life. The tenant of the tombs raved, and 
 then believed." The writer has a vivid recollection of an instance of 
 this sort in hearing him some eighteen years since. The simple stroke did 
 in his mind the work of a dozen sermons. Mr. Clark was addressing Chris- 
 tians at the Lord's table. The sentiment was in substance this : * Perhaps 
 some are in a luminous, happy frame, and in it they feel confident that they 
 shall no more betray the interests of Jesus, as they have done. Beware of 
 this confidence, Peter thought just so once; yet he went directly down from 
 the scenes of Tabor, and swore that he never knew him.' 
 
 It may be remarked in this connection, that our author generally derives 
 his figures and illustrations from obvious and common sources. There is no 
 going out of the way for pretty, and fragrant, and sunny things. There are 
 no singing birds, nor silvery lakes, nor glistening dew-drops to charm us ; 
 " nothing here of the fringes of the north-star ; nothing of nature's becom- 
 ing unnatural ; nothing of the down ofangeVs wings, or the beautiful locks 
 of cherubims ; no starched similitudes, introduced with a " thus have I seen 
 .a cloud rolling in the airy mansion," and the like. Such things are not fit 
 for the pulpit ; they seem profane in so sacred a place. They certainly have 
 no power there. The truly drastic men have nothing to do with them. 
 They are not afraid nor ashamed to lay hands on familiar objects. These 
 are understood, they are felt by the hearer. " I will wipe Jerusalem as a 
 man wipeth a dish, wiping it and turning it upside down." What can ex- 
 ceed this in strength and impressiveness ? The Bible is full of the most 
 cogent figures ; cogent from the commonness of the objects. In this way 
 Mr. Clark attained to a startling power in many of his illustrations. " The 
 truth exhibits impenitent men as playing the fool with their own best inter- 
 ests. A madman who in a paroxysm of his disease, has butchered his family, 
 and half despatched himself, and has waked to consciousness in the very 
 act of suicide, is scarcely a sorer picture of wretchedness and ruin, than the 
 sinner upon whose conscience there has been suddenly poured the light of% 
 truth." Speaking of the fact, that the wicked are occasionally strangely 
 spared, while the righteous are cut down, he says: "the basest of human 
 beings have sometimes measured out a hundred years, have attended the 
 funeral of every pious contemporary, and have even blown the trumpet of 
 revolt in three centuries." On the passage, " Christ gave himself for us," 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 &c., he says : " How easily could he have blighted all our hopes in that 
 dark hour. Had he sent Judas to his own place, or rendered him an honest 
 man when he came to steal the betraying kiss ; or had he struck lifeless 
 that midnight band which came to apprehend him ; or had he let down into 
 hell that senate chamber with its mass of hypocrisy, and paralyzed the 
 sinews of the soldiery that crucified him ; then had there been none to 
 betray, arrest, or murder the Son of God." 
 
 When speaking of the sinner's perdition, our author sets it forth com- 
 monly in the most terrific imagery of the Bible. Had there been a little 
 more of the mild, the gentle, the winning, had there been a less frequent 
 appeal to the terrible motives of truth, more of the imbuing of that love 
 which bled on Calvary, Mr. Clark would have stood as a preacher, pre-emi- 
 nent and complete. But we may not leave what we have to say upon the gen- 
 eral strain and spirit of these sermons without adding, that, with all his 
 sternness, and hard, unbending fidelity, Mr. Clark has the power of the pa- 
 thetic to a very considerable degree. This power grows out of another we 
 have ascribed to him, namely, the power of moral painting. Some parts 
 of the " Church Safe" are fine specimens of the pathetic. The entire ser- 
 mon, entitled : " The industrious young Prophets," is throughout graphic 
 and tender, and must have strongly and deeply moved the feelings of the 
 auditors. Speaking of Christians who have gone from abounding privileg- 
 es, and are now living far away in regions of moral desolation, he says : 
 
 " They cannot educate for themselves a ministry, and build in the wil- 
 derness the unnumbered conveniences they left behind. They have turned 
 their eyes to us, and if we refuse them help, we cover them with unmingled 
 
 despair The mother who had devoted her children to God, and has 
 
 gone with them into the western wilds, must die crushed with the tremen- 
 dous thought, that she became a mother merely that she might people the 
 realms of death. Already she has hung her harp upon the willows, and 
 there it must hang, till some kind missionary enter the door of her cabin, 
 and wipes away her tears ; and this missionary we must educate. Ten 
 long years must still roll away before he arrives, and she, in the mean time, 
 bleached by the frosts of age, trembles on the brink of the grave, but dares 
 not die, till her hopes are accomplished and her children saved." Vol. I., 
 p. 403. 
 
 On the whole, we must be permitted to affirm the opinion, that Mr. Clark 
 deserves to hold a very high rank, as a preparer of sermons. With some 
 peculiar faults, he possessed rare and substantial merits. He was not an 
 imitator ; there appears nowhere upon him the marks of any other man's 
 ^ stamp. As a student .of Dr. Griffin, he was probably incited and influenced 
 by that gigantic model. Yet his style is not Griffin's, nor does it bear any 
 resemblance, except in a bold, rough, independent power. Every thing our 
 author said came forth with his own characteristic impress. 
 
 Having now examined the instruments our author employed, their mate- 
 rial and their structure, it seems necessary to the completeness of our esti- 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. xlv 
 
 mate, that we look at our author's style of wielding the instrument ; in other 
 words, that we view him as a preacher of his sermons. His smiting was 
 generally with a blade which he had previously fabricated and furbished, 
 though he could make a good one at the time when it was necessary ; in 
 other words, he ordinarily preached on the Sabbath, sermons which had 
 been written carefully and in full. 
 
 We wish to say distinctly, that these sermons were delivered in a way 
 to give them their strongest effect. Mr. Clark did not read them, he 
 preached them. He took the matter not from his memory; he took it from 
 nis paper, and preached it : and it was as really a specimen of preaching, 
 and good preaching, as any improviser can give. 
 
 Mr. Clark admirably vindicated manuscript preaching ; he showed that 
 it need not be dull preaching, that it may be warm and stirring to the high- 
 est degree. Most will concede that Mr. Clark is sufficiently pungent 
 and heated. We love to meet with new instances of stirring power 
 in the use of the pen. We are grateful to our author for these warm- 
 hearted specimens. We deprecate the coming of a time, when ministers 
 shall lay aside the pen in their pulpit preparations. With it they would 
 lay aside one half of their power. There will then be an end to extempo- 
 raneous preaching of the highest order. We very much doubt, whether 
 there ever was or ever will be a first rate extemporaneous speaker, who 
 was not, at the same time, a good writer. The discipline of the writing is 
 necessary to impart order and richness to the speaking. Let all writing be 
 done with, and the extemporaneous product grows diffuse and comparative- 
 ly empty. The man, who writes in part vigorously and well, will proceed 
 with closeness and order in the sermons he does not write. He may make 
 his written sermons warm, searching, effective ; and the unwritten will catch 
 from the written a thorough imbuing and seasoning of the same sterling 
 qualities. 
 
 Mr. Clark was an arresting preacher, with all the alleged disadvantages 
 of his paper before him. He had a remarkable power of seizing and hold- 
 ing the attention. If he did not awaken spiritually the auditor, he kept him 
 awake physically. From what we have said of his style, it would be infer- 
 red that the house in which he preached would not be much infested with 
 sleepy hearers. They might disbelieve the preacher, they might execrate 
 his sentiments. They could not but hear them if in the house. He must 
 have been doubly stupid, who, by any opiate or any magnetism, could get to 
 sleep under some of the discourses and parts of discourses which proceed- 
 ed from our author. Whoever, at such a time, might attempt to sink into 
 repose, would not proceed far, before some crashing thunderbolt would com- 
 pel him to open his eyes, and see what was happening. The roughness 
 and ragged points of Mr. Clark's style were admirably adapted to keep the 
 mind well spurred and jogged. Sometimes a sentence or paragraph would 
 come suddenly like a great rasp across the audience. A sermon may be ad- 
 justed, and harmonized, and polished into perfect lameness and insipidity ; the 
 whole moves off, in a gentle, uniform, mellifluous flow, which reaches and 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 stirs nobody, and which nobody cares for. " The words of the wise are as 
 goads." Such should be a portion, at least, of the words of the preacher. 
 
 Mr. Clark's person, voice, and entire manner were in perfect keeping with 
 his style; a large masculine frame ; a voice harsh, strong, capable of great 
 volume, though not very flexible ; an action, for the most part, ungraceful, 
 but significant and natural ; a countenace bearing bold, strongly marked fea- 
 tures, at every opening of which the waked and working passions would 
 look intensely out ; then, thoughts and sentences such as we find in these 
 volumes coming forth ; all together gave the idea of huge, gigantic power. 
 We were reminded often of some great ordnance, throwing terribly its heavy 
 shots. Who could, who dared go into unconsciousness before such an engine ? 
 
 Mr. Clark had an unusual power of impressing the memory. Perhaps in 
 nothing do preachers differ more than in this. We hear one deliver a ser- 
 mon, and are very well pleased with it. It is made up of substantial and 
 important matter. We endeavor at the time to give earnest heed to the 
 things which we hear, lest we should let them slip. But somehow, do all 
 we can, they will slip; soon the whole is utterly gone, and all that we can 
 say about it is, that at such a time, we heard such a minister preach a ser- 
 mon. We hear another ; we give no closer attention ; we are in no better 
 mood. But the sermon inheres; parts of it, at least, are lodged within us 
 too deeply and firmly to be thrown out by the rudest jostlings of amusement 
 or business. Mr. Clark had this prime excellence of preaching, to an unusu- 
 al degree. Those who listened to his preaching, a score of years back, find 
 that they can remember a great deal that he said. They retain, doubtless, 
 clear conceptions of entire discourses, which on their delivery ploughed 
 deeply into their minds. The power of condensed, graphic enunciation, by 
 which light, strength and beauty were combined and concentrated, in part 
 enabled Mr. Clark to sink these fixtures in the memory. The power of 
 moral painting, also of graphic presentation, which has been referred to, did 
 much to give the adhesiveness in question. The truth, which we are made 
 to see, we cannot forget, as we do the truth we only hear. The value of 
 this power upon the memory in a preacher is not soon estimated. It helps 
 him to insert the good seed beneath the surface, where the birds will not 
 eat it up, nor the winds blow it away. Truth so inserted will often rise up 
 and be thought of; conscience will reiterate the sermon in far future years. 
 The Spirit may give it power ; so that it shall result in the conversion of the 
 soul, after the voice, that originally preached it, shall be still in death. 
 
 Mr. Clark frequently exhibited in his preaching the ability to make very 
 strong religious impressions. His sermons were not in the strict sense re- 
 vival sermons. They were never vaguely, loosely declamatory. There 
 were no tricks of eloquence, no play upon the passions. There was, per- 
 haps, too much sentiment, too much solid, searching truth in them for the 
 greatest immediate movement and effect. His were not the right sort of 
 loading and aim to do the most execution in a flock. His preaching was 
 adapted rather to impress deeply a few minds than more slightly many 
 minds. He did not operate upon the surface ; he struck heavy and shook 
 the very foundations of the character. 
 
OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 It is sometimes said of a preacher that there is a great deal of Christ in 
 his sermons. This is deemed, and it is, a high commendation. It was a 
 commendatory trait in Mr. Clark's preaching, that there was a great deal of 
 God in it. We think, as we have said, that his exhibition of the Divine 
 character, at times, was not sufficiently mitigated. Still there is often placed 
 before us, God, the great Sovereign and Agent, the subduer or the punisher of 
 his foes, the unfailing protector of his people and his cause. God in his aw- 
 ful glory and purity, man in the moral baseness of his character, in the 
 black and stormy elements of his depravity, were placed clearly and terri- 
 bly side by side. The effect produced was, in some instances, awful and 
 overwhelming. Mr. Clark's preaching searched and incited the true 
 disciple, pressing him up to a higher standard; it agitated and cut down 
 the sinner, convincing him that there was no help in himself; it stripped 
 and laid bare the hypocrite, bringing to his own view his own ugliness. Many 
 of all classes, we doubt not, were persuaded by him to flee for refuge to lay 
 hold upon the hope set before them, some of whom are now amid the 
 conflicts of time, others amid the glories of eternity. 
 
 Subordinate to the spiritual results, and quite inferior in worth, yet highly 
 valuable, was another effect of Mr. Clark's preaching. It wrought power- 
 fully upon the intellect. It waked up the mind and set it to work. It was 
 bracing ; it made the hearer feel stronger than he felt before ; he went out 
 ready for achievement. We happen to be acquainted with those who 
 acknowledge an indebtedness to Mr. Clark, in this respect, beyond what 
 they owe to any other living mind they ever came in contact with. They 
 met him in their vernal and forming period. He interested them, he seized 
 them, and bore them forward in a quickened and more robust growth, it 
 is always, in some respects, an original and ascendent mind, that thus 
 stimulates, and moulds, and makes stronger other minds. 
 
 Mr. Clark's printed sermons have much of the same power. It was the 
 significant query of Fox, respecting a noted speech, " Does it read well ? 
 Depend upon it, it was not a good speech, if it does not read well." Mr. 
 Clark's sermons bear this test. Very many books of sermons have failed 
 to bear this test, and in consequence have gone speedily to oblivion. In- 
 deed, the fame of the preacher is very apt to be diminished, if not destroyed, 
 by the service of the printer. It is no uncommon thing for plain, sensible 
 people to have their swelling admiration of some corruscating preacher, 
 whose name and glory have come awfully towering to their conceptions, 
 nearly withered and swept away by the unfortunate occurrence of their 
 lighting upon a printed volume of his sermons. We fear no such result in 
 the case of Mr. Clark. Indeed, he has passed this ordeal in safety. He 
 has found many admiring readers of his sermons: persons of education, of 
 good sense, of deep piety, have read and re-read with interest and profit. 
 Others still will love to recur to them, and will feel that they are benefited 
 by the perusal. 
 
 These sermons will do good to the Christian in the closet, and to others, 
 if they will read them. " No one, I presume," says a discriminating writer, 
 remarking upon Mr. Clark, " whose conscience has ever been probed by his 
 
BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 searching appeals, or whose heart has ever been warmed by his fervid and 
 glowing piety, or whose spirit has ever been overwhelmed by his melting 
 eloquence, or whose sense of duty has ever been quickened by his forcible 
 and practical illustrations, but must rejoice in the privilege of reading at 
 his leisure, and praying over in secret, such productions of such a man." 
 
 They will do good in the family. We like the suggestion, made by the au- 
 thor in the preface to a previous edition, " That the parent, or some one se- 
 lected by him, read aloud for the benefit of the family, after preparing himself' 
 to read with due emphasis and feeling."* Have we not erred in laying aside 
 the custom, so much practised by our fathers, of reading a sermon at stated 
 seasons in the family ? There are many living witnesses to its spiritual 
 and eternal benefit. Children and domestics have received truths and im- 
 pressions which they never could rid themselves of, but which became the 
 power of God to their salvation. Our fathers honored sermons their de- 
 scendants are getting to despise them. It is not well to do so. Admit 
 these sermons to the family circle, and there allow them to preach to the 
 conscience and the heart, and they will assuredly do good. 
 
 They will do good also in the conference room, and in the Sabbath con- 
 gregation, where there is no minister present. Not all good sermons will 
 answer for this service. Those who have had upon themselves the respon- 
 sibility of these occasions, have been troubled to find discourses of that 
 strong, graphic, penetrating character, which will arrest the mind, and be 
 effective on the heart, as read from the printed page. Mr. Clark's sermons 
 have been tried in this respect, and not been found wanting. Let them be 
 tried again, and they will not disappoint expectation. 
 
 Finally, these sermons are fitted to exert a wholesome influence upon the 
 pulpit. We deem them good sermons for preachers to have intercourse with. 
 If any have fallen into a miserable, mincing way of writing or speaking, let 
 them read these sermons. If any have come so under the dominion of 
 false or excessive taste, that they cannot say a thing out clear, straight, and 
 strong, let them read these sermons. If they are affected with languor 
 and lameness, as they stand in the pulpit, and afflict their hearers with the 
 same oppressive qualities, let them read these sermons. If any are given 
 to exquisitely fine spinning, or extravagantly high soaring, more in love 
 with the sublimated than the sublunary, let them take in hand these coarser 
 and weightier productions. They will do good by their astringency and 
 impulsiveness. They will help to make closer, warmer, manlier preaching. 
 We rejoice that the productions of Mr. Clark are now put forth in a form 
 so convenient and neat ; for hereby, we believe, an important service is ren- 
 dered to the cause of truth and of God. 
 
SERMONS 
 
 SERMON I. 
 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 ISAIAH XLIX. 16. 
 
 I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands ; thy walls are continually before me. 
 
 THE Jewish Church, during her captivity, would be led to con- 
 ceive that God had forsaken, had forgotten her. To effectually 
 remove this impression, God by his prophet appeals to one of the 
 tenderest relationships of life. " Can a woman forget her sucking 
 child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her 
 womb 1 yea they may forget, yet will I not forget thee." Thus 
 would he giv.e to Zion, assurance of his unchangeable love. His 
 people should multiply, till the land, where their foes destroyed 
 them, should be too limited for their increased population. Kings 
 and nations should serve them, and do them honor. Zion was 
 dear to him as the apple of his eye. He would engrave her upon 
 the palms of his hands ; her walls should be continually before 
 him. 
 
 In those days, it was the custom to paint upon the palms of the 
 hands such objects as men wish to remember, in allusion to which 
 custom God assures his people, that he had graven Zion upon the 
 palms of his hands. Thus should her walls be continually before 
 him ; he would not forget her a moment, nor suffer any foe to 
 injure her. We have here a broad and sacred pledge, to be kept 
 in mind by the people of God in all ages, and plead in their pray- 
 ers, that he will foster and bless his Church, and will employ his 
 vigilance and his power to secure her safety, and advance her 
 honors. 
 
 6 
 
4"2 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 Thus is the Church safe, and the people of God need have no 
 apprehensions, nor weep a tear, but over their own transgressions, 
 and the miseries of that multitude, who will not be persuaded to 
 take sanctuary in her bosom. I shall argue the safety of the 
 church, from the firmness and stability of the divine operations ; 
 from what God has already done for his Church ; what he is now 
 doing ; and what he has promised to do. 
 
 I. We assure ourselves, that the Church is safe, from the firmness 
 and stability of the divine operations. I now refer, not merely to 
 the unchangeableness of God, which will lead him to pursue for 
 ever that plan which his infinite wisdom devised ; for that plan 
 lies concealed from us ; but to that uniform and steady course with 
 which he has pursued every enterprise which his hands have be- 
 gun. That he is of the same mind, and that none can turn him, 
 is a thought full of comfort ; but that he has finished every work 
 which he took in hand is a fact, which intelligences have witness- 
 ed, and one on which we may found our richest expectations. 
 
 The worlds which he began to build he finished. Not one was 
 left half formed and motionless. Each he placed in its orbit, gave 
 it light, and laws, and impulse. And ever since this first develop- 
 ment of the divine stability, the wheels of providence have rolled 
 on with steady and settled course. What Omnipotence began, 
 whether to create or to destroy, he rested not till he had accom- 
 plished. 
 
 When he had become incensed with our world, and purposed its 
 desolation, with what a firm and steady step did he go on to 
 achieve his purpose. Noah builds the ark, and God prepares the 
 fountains, which, at his word, burst from their entrenchments to 
 drown an impious generation. 
 
 How have suns kept their stations, and planets rolled in their 
 orbits, by the steady pressure of the hand of God ; by their re- 
 volutions measuring out the years of their own duration, and by 
 their velocity urging on the amazing moment when they shall 
 meet in dread concussion, and perish in the contact. How fixed 
 their periods, their risings, their eclipses, their changes, and their 
 transits. And while they roll, how uniform is the return of 
 spring, summer, autumn, and winter. How certain every law of 
 matter, gravitation, attraction, reflection, &c. The very comet, 
 so long considered lawless, how is it curbed and reined in its ec- 
 centric orbit, and never yet had power or permission to burn a sin- 
 gle world. 
 
 How sure is the fulfilment of prophecv. Ages intervening can 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE. 4-3 
 
 not shake the certainty of its accomplishment. Jesus bleeds on 
 Calvary four thousand years subsequently to the promise which 
 that event accomplishes. Cyrus is named in the page of prophe- 
 cy more than two hundred years before his birth, and at the 
 destined moment becomes the Lord's shepherd, collects the lost 
 sheep of the house of Israel, and builds Jerusalem. The Jews, as 
 prophets three thousand years ago foretold, are yet in exile. The 
 weeping prophet, now at rest, still sees the family he loved peeled 
 and scattered, and the soil that drank his tears, cursed for their 
 sins ; and confident that God is true, waits impatient the certain, 
 but distant year of their redemption. 
 
 Wretches that dare his power, God will not disturb his plan to 
 punish. The old world nourished one hundred and twenty years 
 after heaven had cursed that guilty race. Sodom was a fertile 
 valley long after the cry of its enormities had entered into the 
 ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. The Amorites were allowed five 
 hundred years td fill up the measure of their iniquity after God 
 had pledged their land to Abram, although Israel wore away the 
 intervening years in bondage. Many a murderer has been over- 
 taken by the hand of justice, half a century past the time of the 
 bloody deed. God will punish all the workers of iniquity, but he 
 waits till the appointed moment. Like the monarch of the forest, 
 he comes upon his enemies, conscious of his strength, with steady 
 but dreadful steps. In his movements there is neither frenzy, pas- 
 sion, nor haste. While his judgments linger, his enemies ask, 
 " Where is the promise of his coming 1" but let them know, that 
 he has appeared, and discomfited many a foe ; and the inference 
 is that they must perish too. Whatever God begins, he finishes : 
 no unseen embarrassment can turn his eye from his original 
 purpose. 
 
 Now the argument is, that as God has begun to erect a Church, 
 he will act in this matter as in all others. If one of light character, 
 a man given to change, had laid the foundation of some mansion, 
 there would still be doubt whether it would ever receive its top- 
 stone. But suppose his character exactly the reverse, and the 
 moment he breaks the ground, imagination sees the mansion finish- 
 ed : now only make God the builder and the argument is perfect. 
 Whether we can trace his footsteps or not, he moves on to the 
 accomplishment of his purpose with undeviating course. Every 
 event, in aspect bright or dark, promotes the ultimate increase 
 and establishment of his Church. Or shall this be the only enter- 
 prise to which his wisdom, his power, or his grace, is inadequate 1 
 
44 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 In this solitary instance shall he begin to build and not be able to 
 finish 1 What would be thought of him in hell, if the mystical 
 temple should never receive its topstone 1 Its fires may go out, the 
 worm may die, or some infernal genius bridge the gulf. Heaven 
 too would lose all confidence in its King, and every harp be silent 
 Thu^ before we examine the history of the Church, or read the 
 promises, if we believe that God ever had a Church, we have the 
 strongest possible presumptive evidence, that he will watch her in- 
 terests, will feed the fires upon her altars, will bring her sons from 
 far, and her daughters from the ends of the earth, and will never 
 leave her, nor forsake her. " I have graven thee upon the palms 
 of my hands j thy walls are continually before me." 
 
 II. Our expectations brighten when w r e see what God has done 
 for his Church. My first argument went to show, that if God had 
 only laid the corner-stone of this heavenly building, it would rise 
 and be finished. We are now to view the building half erected, 
 and from what has been done argue the certainty of its completion. 
 The Church has been under the fostering care of heaven too long 
 to be abandoned now. 
 
 Let us retrace for a moment a few pages of her history, and we 
 shall see that when the Church was low, he raised her ; when she 
 was in danger, he saved her. Amid all the moral desolations of 
 the old world, the Church never became extinct. And he at length 
 held the winds in his fist, and barred the fountains of the deep, till 
 Noah could build the ark, and the Church be housed from the 
 storm. 
 
 How wonderful were his interpositions when the Church was 
 embodied in the family of Abraham ! In redeeming her from 
 Egyptian bondage, how did he open upon that guilty land all the 
 embrasures of heaven, till they thrust out his people. And he 
 conducted them to Canaan by the same masterly hand. The sea 
 divided, and Jordan rolled back its waters ; the rock became a 
 pool, and the heavens rained them bread, till they drank at the 
 fountains, and ate the fruits of the land of promise. Their gar- 
 ments lasted forty years, and the angel Jehovah, in a cloud of light, 
 led them through the labyrinths and dangers of the desert. 
 
 When the Church diminished, and her prospects clouded over, 
 he raised up reformers. Such were Samuel, and David, and Heze- 
 kiah, and Josiah, and Daniel, and Ezra, and Nehemiah : such were 
 all the prophets. Each in his turn became a master-builder, and 
 the temple rose, opposition notwithstanding. 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE. 45 
 
 Again, under the apostles, how did her prospects brighten. In 
 three thousand hearts, under a single sermon, commenced the pro- 
 cess of sanctification. The very cross proved an engine to erect 
 her pillars; the flames lighted her apartments, and the blood of the 
 martyrs cemented the walls of her temple, and contributed to its 
 strength and beauty. Every dying groan alarmed the prince of 
 hell, and shook the pillars of his dreary domain. 
 
 But the Church again sunk, and hell presumed that her ruin 
 would be soon achieved, when the sixteenth century lifted upon 
 her the dawn of hope. In Luther, Calvin, Melancthon, and Zuing- 
 lius, her interests found able advocates. They appeared at the 
 very juncture when the sinking Church needed their courage and 
 their prayers. Like some mighty constellation, which bursts from 
 the east at the hour of midnight, they rose when moral darkness 
 was almost total, and like that of Egypt could seem to be felt. By 
 their aid the Church emerged from the wilderness. By their cou- 
 rage her grand enemy was made to tremble on his ghostly tribu- 
 nal. The power of the Pope had then outgrown the strength of 
 every civil arm. Every monarch in Europe was at his feet. Till 
 Luther rose no power could cope with him. There was a true 
 Church, but she had no champion. The followers of Jesus paid 
 for the privilege of discipleship with their blood. He who dared 
 to be guided by his own conscience, committed an offence that 
 could not be pardoned. The heavenly-minded saw no relief but 
 in death, and thirsted for the honor of a martyrdom that would place 
 them in a world where conscience might be free. But God ap- 
 peared and redeemed his people. The theme is pleasant, but time 
 would fail me to rehearse what God has done for his Church. 
 Every age has recorded the interpositions of his mercy ; and every 
 land where there is a remnant of his Church, bears some monu- 
 ment that tells to his honor, and which will endure till the funeral 
 of the world. 
 
 Now the argument is, that he who has done so much for his 
 Church will never abandon her. If he would float her above a 
 drowning world, would redeem her from bondage, would escort 
 her through the desert, would rain her bread from heaven, would 
 reprove kings for her sake, would stop the sun to aid her victories ; 
 with his smiles, light the glooms of her dungeon, and by his pre- 
 sence cool the fires of the stake, there can be no fear for her safety. 
 
 God will do just such things for Zion as he has done. " The 
 thing that hath been, it is that which shall be." His arm is not 
 shortened, nor his ear heavy. The Church was never nearer his 
 
4.6 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 heart than now. And he now hates her enemies as really as he 
 did Pharaoh, Sennacherib, Nero, or Julian. He then governed the 
 world for the sake of his Church ; and for her sake he governs it 
 still. " The Lord's portion is his people." We know not that 
 he ever had but one object in view in the events that have trans- 
 pired in our world ; and that one the honor of his name in the re- 
 demption of his people : and this object sways his heart still. The 
 destruction of the enemy is a part of the same plan. Still may the 
 Church invoke the Lord God of Elijah, may rest under the protec- 
 tion of the God of Bethel, and wrestle with the Angel of Penuel. 
 If she should be in bondage there will rise another Moses, another 
 cloud will conduct her out of Egypt, and the same heavens will 
 rain her manna. If darkness should overshadow her, there will be 
 found among the sons she hath brought up, another Luther, Cal- 
 vin, or Knox, to take her by the hand, to protect her honors, and 
 recruit her strength. Shame on the Christian who knows her his- 
 tory, and yet is afraid. Afraid of what 1 That God \vill cease to 
 defend the apple of his eyel Afraid that the city graven upon 
 the palms of his hands may be captured and destroyed 1 If God 
 continue to do such things as he has done, the Church with all her 
 retinue is safe. " God is known in her palaces for a refuge." 
 
 III. God is doing now just such things as he has done. We saw 
 laid the corner stone, and drew thence our first argument. Then 
 we saw the building half erected, and were furnished with a second. 
 We are now to view the edifice covered with builders, and from 
 their exertions derive our third. We may now reason from things 
 that our eyes can see. We may appeal for testimony to the very 
 saw and hammer, and make the scaffold speak. 
 
 It may be that some of my readers are not sensible in what a 
 day of heavenly exploit they live. Do you know what amazing 
 events are transpiring 1 Have you learned that Bible societies are 
 forming in every part of Christendom 1 and that the Scriptures are 
 now read in perhaps a hundred languages, in which, till lately, not 
 a text of inspired truth was ever written 1 Do you know that the 
 late editions of God's word have commenced their circulation, are 
 traversing the desert, taming the savage, and pouring celestial light 
 on eyes that never met its beams before 1 
 
 Do you know the prevalence of a missionary spirit ? Have 
 you learned that youth of the first character, of the fairest pros- 
 pects, and of both sexes, aspire to be missionaries of the cross 1 
 Some have gone, and others wait impatiently till your charity shall 
 
THE CHUliCH SAFE. 47 
 
 send them. Many a mother has devoted her daughter to the work, 
 and waits for opportunity to give her the parting kiss ; and many a 
 daughter, on whom has fallen Harriet's mantle, aches to visit her 
 tomb, and rest under the same turf till Jesus bids them rise. And 
 what daughter of Zion is not ambitious of a martyrdom like hers 4 
 
 How numerous and extensive the revivals, which at present we 
 witness in our land 1 Even where there is no stated ministry, the 
 showers of grace descend, and the waste places are made fertile. 
 What other page of the Church's history, but the present, could 
 record an almost universal concert of prayer 1 Christians of every 
 continent employing the same hour in the same supplications. 
 How unparalleled the success of every Christian enterprise ! No 
 plan of mercy ever fails. The active Christian is amazed at the 
 result of his own exertions. 
 
 Much that God is now doing is evidently preparatory to future 
 operations. Bible and missionary societies may be viewed as the 
 accumulated energies of the Church. Hitherto our exertions 
 have been insulated and feeble. The little streams fructified the 
 plains through which they flowed, but could easily be dammed or 
 evaporated ; but their junction has formed a mighty river, destined 
 to penetrate every moral desert, and carry civilization to every 
 province of our desolated world : fed with the showers of heaven, 
 and every day flowing on with deeper arid broader channel, the 
 wilds of Arabia, the heaths of Africa, and the plains of Siberia, 
 can oppose no effectual barrier to its influence. 
 
 What age but ours was ever blessed with Theological Semina- 
 ries, where might be reared at the expense of charity, young 
 evangelists, to go out and carry the bread of life to a starving 
 world 1 Fortunes, collected for other purposes, are poured into 
 the treasury of the Lord, and thus are erected batteries to demo- 
 lish the strong-holds of the prince of hell. Jehovah bless their 
 founders ! 
 
 Churches and congregations, who, in seasons of coldness, 
 grudged to support the gospel at home, are now equipping young 
 men for the missionary field, and for their own edification. And 
 it has at length become so disreputable to stand idle in these mat- 
 ters, that the man who would save his money, feels himself in 
 danger of losing his chracter. 
 
 Not long since, young men of piety and talents, who longed to 
 fight the battles of the Lord, must equip themselves, and then find 
 poor support in service. But now the scale is turned. Where 
 there is no fortune but piety, a thirst for knowledge, and a talent 
 
48 THE CHUECH SAFE. 
 
 to improve, the way is now open to all the honors of the camp of 
 Israel. The pious mother, who can only drop her two mites into 
 the treasury of the Lord, but whose example and whose prayers 
 have saved her son, may bring her Samuel to the altar, to be fed 
 from its offerings, and reared to all the honors of the prophetic 
 office. While I am yet writing, hope springs up, and a joy 
 not felt in ages past, thrills through all the habitations of pious 
 poverty. 
 
 The late revivals possess one peculiar characteristic. There 
 have been among their fruits an unusual number of males. When 
 there was little else that could be done for Zion, but pray and 
 weep, and love her doctrines, and glow with heavenly affections, 
 the feebler sex could furnish the Christian world with soldiers. But 
 now, when the kingdom of darkness must be stormed, Zion needs 
 the aid of her sons, and God, it would seem, accommodates the 
 operations of his Spirit to the interests of his Church. Paul was 
 not converted till his help was needed, and it was not needed till 
 the gospel was to be carried to the Gentiles. Every revival of 
 late contradicts that libel long legible on the records of infidelity, 
 that religion evinces its emptiness by its exclusive operation upon the 
 feebler part of our race. Recently the strong and muscular, the 
 very champions of the host of hell, have fallen before the power 
 of truth, and are harnessed for its defence. Moreover, men of 
 science, and of strong mind, have in their own esteem become 
 fools, and have sat down to learn truth at a Savior's feet. Our 
 late revivals have penetrated schools and colleges. Satan's cause 
 has been well pleaded, and God now intends to plead his own : 
 and palsied will be the tongue that is silent. 
 
 Does God without design raise up these instruments 1 Would 
 one pass through a whole kingdom, and employ every skilful me- 
 chanic, unless he intended to erect some mighty edifice 1 If, then, 
 we see God enlisting men in his service, men of strength and science, 
 does he not intend to achieve some wondrous design 1 Assuredly 
 the heavenly building will rise. These talents will be, and they 
 are already employed in extending Emanuel's empire. India, with 
 other benighted lands, has already received our missionaries, and 
 her Moloch, with all his cursed family of gods, sicken at their 
 prospect. The dark places of his empire have been explored, and 
 the sceptre begins to tremble in his palsied hand. And poor Afri- 
 ca, more debased still, has found a tongue to plead her cause. 
 Conscience, long asleep, and deaf to her rights has waked, and 
 now, her sons, fed at the table of charity, are preparing to carry 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE. 49 
 
 her the bread of life. My country, deeper in her debt than all 
 other lands, has begun to pay its long arrears. 
 
 Who could have hoped, a few years since, that he should ever 
 see a day like this ? If, twenty years since, one had told me that 
 sixty years would so electrify the Christian world, I should have 
 believed him visionary, and, like the unbelieving Samaritan, should 
 have pronounced it impossible, unless God should make windows 
 in heaven, and rain Bible and Missionary Societies from above : but 
 God has done it all without a miracle. And blessed be his name 
 will my readers join me in the thank-offering 1 blessed be his 
 name, that he cast us upon such an age as this. Blessed be his 
 name, that we were not born a century sooner. Then we had 
 never seen the dawn of this millenial morning, nor heard the glad 
 tidings which now reach us by every mail, nor had an opportunity, 
 as now, to purchase for our offspring, an interest in the Lord's 
 fund. Charity was then in a deep sleep. India bowed to her idols, 
 and Africa wore her chains, unpitied and unrelieved. Buchanan and 
 Wilberforce, angels of mercy, were then unborn. Infidelity then 
 desolated the fairest provinces of Christendom, and wars were the 
 applauded achievements of states and empires. 
 
 But the age of infidelity has gone by, and the bloody clarion 
 has breathed out, I hope, its last accursed blast. Events are tran- 
 spiring which bid fair to bind all nations in the bonds of love. I 
 had read of such a period, but how could I hope to see it 1 ' The 
 present repose of nations augurs well for the Church. Christen- 
 dom can now unite her efforts to evangelize the world, while the 
 sailor and the soldier have leisure and opportunity to read the 
 precious Scriptures^ And must not all this put our unbelief to the 
 blush, and cover us with shame 1 
 
 The past twenty years have so outdone our highest hopes, as to 
 render it impossible to predict what twenty more may do. God 
 has begun to work on a scale new and grand ; and the inference 
 is that he will go on. After what we have seen, we could hardly 
 be surprised if twenty years to come should put the Bible into 
 every language under heaven, and should send missionaries, more 
 or less, to every benighted district of earth. Let benevolent exer- 
 tion increase in the ratio of the past seven years, and God add his 
 blessing, and half a century will evangelize the world, tame the 
 lion and the asp, and set every desert with temples, devoted to the 
 God of heaven. When the bosom of charity shall beat a little 
 stronger, if there should be the necessity, men will sell houses or 
 farms to save the heathen from hell ; and the child will sit down 
 7 
 
50 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 and weep, who may not say, that his father and mother were the 
 friends of missions. And what parent would entail such a curse 
 upon his children, and prevent them from lifting up their heads in 
 the millennium. I had rather leave mine toiling in the ditch, there 
 to enjoy the luxury of reflecting, that a father's charity made them 
 poor. Poor ! They are poor who cannot feel for the miseries of 
 a perishing world ; to whom God has given abundance, but who 
 grudge to use it for his honor. Teach your children charity, and 
 they can never be poor. " The liberal soul shall be made fat, and 
 he that watereth shall be watered also himself." Can this promise 
 fail 1 Then we can all leave our children rich, and the heirs too 
 of a fortune they can never squander. We can purchase for them 
 the privilege of drawing upon the exhaustless resources of heaven. 
 What a privilege now to be a parent ! 
 
 But I must return to the argument. God is doing so much for 
 his Church, as to warrant the inference that he will do still more. 
 The hopes he raises he will gratify. The prayer he indites he will 
 answer. To see what God is doing, I find it impossible to doubt 
 his intentions. The present is a prelude to brighter scenes. God 
 would not have done so much for his people had he intended to 
 abandon them. The Church will live and prosper. Instead of 
 trembling for the ark, let us weep that we ever thought it in 
 danger. 
 
 IV. We build the same expectations on the promises and pro- 
 phecies. The building which we see rising God has promised to 
 finish. He has all the materials ; the silver and the gold are his. 
 He has enlisted the builders, and prepared the necessary instru- 
 ments. The decree has gone forth that Jerusalem must be built, 
 and God will redeem his own gratuitous pledge : he will do as he 
 has said. 
 
 Early in the reign of Emanuel there will be universal peace. 
 The nations are to " beat their swords into plough-shares, and their 
 spears into pruning hooks." " The wolf also shall dwell with the 
 lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid." " They shall 
 not hurt nor destroy in all " God's " holy mountain." " They shall 
 sit, every man under his vine, and under his fig-tree ; and none 
 shall make them afraid." 
 
 But " the gospel must first be published among all nations." 
 On this promise there pours at present a stream of heavenly light. 
 The angel, " having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them 
 that dwell on the earth," is beginning to publish it " to every na- 
 tion, and kindred, and tongue, and people." Kings are to be to 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE 51 
 
 the Church nursing fathers, and queens nursing mothers ; and they 
 have already taken hold of the work with interest. Their charity 
 their influence, and their prayers, have already contributed to 
 deepen and widen the channel of that river which is making glad 
 the city of God. In the progress of this work a nation shall be 
 born in a day. The instance of Eimeo may be considered as em- 
 braced in this promise. " Thy watchmen shall see eye to eye." 
 This promise has commenced its accomplishment in the harmony 
 manifested in the formation and support of Sabbath schools, and 
 Bible and Missionary Societies. The Jews are to return to their 
 land, and to the God of their fathers. There shines some light 
 upon this promise. Many are at present migrating to Palestine 
 from the north of Europe ; some have been converted to the faith 
 of Jesus, many not cdnverted are members of Bible societies, and 
 exertions unparalleled are making to bring them to the light, while 
 individuals of their number are proclaiming to their deluded 
 brethren the unsearchable riches of Christ. Soon the Bible will 
 supplant the Talmud. 
 
 " Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God." Who 
 does not see this promise fast accomplishing 1 Her chains are 
 falling and her mind expanding. There have commenced a train 
 of operations that promise the richest blessings to the children of 
 Ham. Soon the Gambia, the Niger, and the Nile, will grace their 
 shore with Christian temples, will lend their waters to fertilize a 
 gospel land, and bear to his station the zealous missionary. In 
 the mean time the wretched Arab, exchanging his Koran for the 
 Bible, and tamed, by its influence, to honest industry, will settle 
 the quarrel with the family of Jacob, and worship in the same 
 temple. 
 
 If we turn to the threatenings against the enemies of the Church, 
 there open before us large fields of promise. Like the cloud that 
 severed Pharaoh's hosts from Israel they pour impenetrable dark- 
 ness into the camp of the enemy, while they light the tents of Ja- 
 cob. " The day of the Lord shall burn as an oven, and all the 
 proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble, and the day 
 that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord ; that it shall leave 
 them neither root nor branch." Perhaps the complicated miseries 
 which began in the French Revolution, and were finished at Wa- 
 terloo, might commence the accomplishment of this threatening. 
 But doubtless other storms will yet beat upon the camp of the 
 enemy; more tremendous than anything which they have yet ex- 
 perienced. Some believe that the fifth vial has not yet been pour- 
 
52 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 ed out upon the seat of the beast ; and all agree that the forty and 
 two months, during which the holy city must be trodden under 
 foot, are not yet expired. It is acknowledged that the period is 
 twelve hundred and sixty years, and that it commenced with the 
 reign of the beast, and will probably terminate in the present cen- 
 tury. Possibly our dear children may live to see the precious 
 moment that shall close the period. Then the messenger of the 
 covenant shall make his glorious ingress, shall destroy his ene- 
 mies, shall purify the sons of Levi, and cleanse the offering of Ju- 
 dah. Then the knowledge of the Lord shall cover the earth as 
 the waters cover the sea. Jesus shall take possession of the in- 
 heritance promised, " and his dominion shall be from sea even to 
 sea, and from the river even to the ends of the earth." 
 
 Can the dejected Christian read all this, and believe it all, and 
 despondingly weep still 1 And for what does he weep 1 God has 
 begun to erect a heavenly temple ; the work has never stopped, 
 and he promises that it never shall. He never did abandon any 
 work which he began, nor did there ever drop from his lips a pro- 
 mise that was not, or will not be fulfilled. And what more can he 
 do 1 Christian, you may weep on, but let your tears be tears of 
 penitence or joy. Every harp should be snatched from the wil- 
 lows, new joys should be felt, and new anthems sung in all the as- 
 semblies of the saints. He that shall come, will come, and will 
 not tarry ; and every bosom should respond, " Even so, come Lord 
 Jesus, come quickly." 
 
 APPLICATION. 
 
 1. If to any it is a burden to join in the general concert of 
 prayer for Zion's increase, they can excuse themselves, and the 
 glorious work will still go on. There are those who consider the 
 duty a privilege. If the Church could live without them, and duty 
 did not prompt them to pray, they would weep to be denied the 
 privilege of bearing her interests to the throne, and of waiting for 
 the redemption of Israel. Such may wait still upon the Lord, and 
 may wait with confidence, that every prayer will be answered, 
 every tear preserved, and every hope accomplished. But are there 
 those who would wish to be excused from this service 1 who have 
 no pleasure in the duty, and no faith in the promises 1 Well, they 
 can act their pleasure, and the Church 'Will live. But, whether 
 such will have any share in the glories of that kingdom, whose 
 approach they dread, " demands a doubt." 
 
 2. If any grudge to contribute of their wealth, for the advance- 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE. 53 
 
 ment of the Church, they can withhold. If they have a better use 
 for their money, or dare not trust the Lord, there is no compul- 
 sion. Some happy beings will have the honor of the work. It is to 
 be accomplished by the instrumentality of men, and if any are 
 willing to be excused, and insist on doing nothing, they can use 
 their pleasure. And if such would ruin their children, by holding 
 them back, they can. They can form them to such habits that the 
 world will never be disturbed by their munificence. They can 
 prejudice them against all the operations of Christian charity ; can 
 make them deaf to the cry of the six hundred millions j can keep 
 them ignorant of what the Christian world is doing, and what God 
 has commanded them to do. And there can then be very little 
 doubt but they will have children in their own likeness. But 
 whether God will not finally lay claim to their wealth, and cause 
 it to be expended in beautifying his holy empire, we dare not as- 
 sert. The silver and the gold are his. 
 
 But the work will go on. Once our fears on the subject were 
 great. We doubted whether the Christian world would ever give 
 the heathen the gospel. But our fears are removed. We have 
 now no apprehension as to the issue, and can only pity those who 
 are blind to their duty, their interest, their honor, and their hap- 
 piness. 
 
 3. If any are willing to remain out of the kingdom of Christ, 
 they can act their pleasure in this matter too, and yet the marriage 
 supper will be full. The kingdom of Christ will be large enough ; 
 large as he expected, large as he desired, large as the Father pro- 
 mised ; large enough to gratify the infinite benevolence of his 
 heart. If any do not wish to live in heaven, the mansions they 
 might have filled will be occupied by others. The celestial choir 
 will be full, and the name of Jesus will receive its deserved ap- 
 plauses from myriads who shall be redeemed from every nation, 
 kindred, tongue, and people. 
 
 If sinners can do without God, he can do without them. They 
 will not be forced, reluctantly, to the marriage supper of the Lamb. 
 There will be enough who will come willingly. Heaven will be 
 as happy as it would be if more were saved. And the prison of 
 despair will contain exactly that number, whose ruin will exhibit 
 to the best advantage the character of Jehovah : and the smoke of 
 their torment, which shall ascend up for ever and ever, will form a 
 stupendous column, on which will be written, legible to all heaven, 
 
 HOLINESS, JUSTICE, TRUTH. 
 
 The vast accession made to the Church in the late revivals, and 
 
54 THE CHURCH SAFE. 
 
 the still greater increase in the future years of millennial glory, 
 will swell the number of the saved beyond all calculation. Sinners 
 who now join the multitude, and are thus secured from present 
 reproach, will soon find themselves attached to an insignificant 
 and despicable minority. It would seem at present that the num- 
 ber of the lost will be great, but you may multiply them beyond 
 the power of human enumeration, and still there is no fear but the 
 number of the saved will be greater. 
 
 If any, then, would prefer to remain out of the kingdom, they 
 have their choice, and the shame and ruin will be their own. God 
 intends to let them do as they please, and those who love his 
 kingdom most, anxious as they now are for the salvation of their 
 fellow-men, will at last be satisfied with the number of the saved. 
 We invite none to become the subjects of Christ's kingdom, but 
 those who will esteem his yoke easy and his burden light. 
 
 4. If any should be disposed to enter into league with the lost, 
 angels, and oppose the Church, they can do so, and still the 
 Church will live. Earth and hell united, can make no effectual 
 opposition to her interests. God is in the midst of his people, 
 and will help them, and that right early. In these circumstances, 
 one shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight. 
 
 Some opposition is necessary to awaken her energies. Solomon 
 was seven years building the first temple, when all was peace ; 
 but Ezra, with the trowel in one hand, and the sword in the other, 
 could build the second in four. The enemy has always promoted 
 the interest he wished to destroy. God will make the wrath of 
 man to praise him, and the remainder of wrath he will restrain. 
 If any would make opposition to the growing interests of Emanu- 
 el, they can ; but they will accomplish their own ruin, and perhaps 
 the ruin of their children. It never was so dangerous as now to 
 be the enemy of Christ's kingdom. All such must be crushed 
 under the wheels of that car, in which the Son of God is riding in 
 triumph through a conquered empire. To make opposition is as 
 unavailing as if a fly should make an effort to stop the sun. There 
 await the enemies of the cross, certain defeat, shame, and ruin. 
 "He made a pit, and digged it, and is fallen into the ditch which 
 he made. His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his 
 violent dealings shall come down upon his own pate." In the 
 mean time the Church is safe. " Fear not, little flock ; for it is 
 your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." 
 
 5. Fathers and brethren in the ministry, this subject will raise 
 your hopes. Are you stationed where it is all darkness around 
 
THE CHURCH SAFE. 55 
 
 you, and have the hosts of hell alarmed you! cheer up your 
 hearts. Try to penetrate the surrounding darkness, and you will 
 soon be convinced that your fears are ill-timed. Speak to the 
 children of Israel, that they go forward. If night does seem to 
 hover about us, still is it manifest that the day has dawned upon 
 the hills. The Church has never been in danger, and we ought to 
 be ashamed of our fears. Be at your watch-tower, dear brethren ; 
 turn your eye to the east, and you will soon descry the light. If 
 there is any truth in the promise, and if a thousand transpiring 
 events can speak, we shall soon have opportunity to hail Emanuel 
 at his second coming. If our courage fails us in a day like this, 
 we have only to lie down and die with shame. While the victory 
 was doubtful, you might be afraid, and yet save your character, 
 but none are afraid now but the coward. Shall we hesitate to die, 
 if necessary, in securing a victory already gained ; and to gain 
 which the Captain of our salvation, and many of his soldiers have 
 spilt their blood 1 Our missionary brethren have carried the 
 standard of the cross, and planted it within the entrenchments of 
 the enemy, and their courage has not failed ; and shall we tremble 
 in the camp 1 We shall then have no share in the spoil. Dear 
 brethren, I will not insult you ; you are not afraid ; you will die at 
 your post, and the victory will be secured. 
 
 6. Dear Christian brethren, you see the royal canopy which 
 your Lord casts over your heads ; or rather the shield he spreads 
 before you. If you are not officers in the camp of Israel, you ,are 
 soldiers ; if you may not command, you may fight, but not with 
 carnal weapons. Let the subject raise your courage. A few 
 more conflicts and your toils are ended ; the Church is safe, and 
 you are safe. Only believe, and soon you will see the salvation 
 of God. And as the Savior approaches, and you see him, you 
 may say with the prophet, " Lo, this is our God ; we have waited 
 for him, and he will save us : this is the Lord j we have waited 
 for him, we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation." ' 
 
SERMON II. 
 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 DEUTERONOMY XXXII. 9. 
 
 The Lord's portion is his people ; Jacob is the lot of his inheritance. 
 
 WHEN God exhibits himself, as the portion of his people, we 
 feel no surprise. He can be to them all they need, can gratify all 
 their wants, and all their hopes. But what can his people be or 
 do for him 1 How can they so '/rise' in his estimation, that he 
 shall style them his portion and his inheritance 1 The God who 
 has built a thousand worlds, who thunders in the heavens, and 
 holds the stars in his right hand ; can he value his people above 
 them all 1 And yet this precious truth is prominent in the text, 
 and is demonstrated, by the whole course of providential events, 
 since the creation of the world. If that is the dearest to God 
 which, cost him most, as is often the fact in our history, then indeed 
 there is an obvious reason for the truth of the text. Worlds took 
 being at his word, and will perish at his bidding, but he redeemed 
 his people with the life of his Son ; hence his high regard for 
 them. And hence a reason for all he intends to do for them in 
 futurity. He will guide them with his counsel, and afterward 
 receive them to glory. 
 
 Hence to God's people the text contains a very precious truth. 
 God has selected from the works of his hands, as what shall stand 
 the highest in his estimation, his redeemed people. Not that he 
 has alienated his right to any thing. Every world that he has 
 built is his, and his foes are his. But in his Church he will take 
 peculiar pleasure. He will employ all his energies to make his 
 people happy, and himself happy in them. This was his purpose 
 when he built the creation, and when fully accomplished, " The 
 heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, and the earth and the 
 works that are therein shall be burned up." 
 
 But there is a truth implied in this text of solemn and dreadful 
 import. It makes worthless every thing in this world, but the 
 
NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. ' 57 
 
 church of God. And what is worthless is not safe. Hence I pur- 
 pose to illustrate this doctrine, There is nothing safe but the church. 
 My intention is to look at facts, ancient and modern, together with 
 what God assures us shall transpire in future ; all going to show, 
 that while God has always cared for his Church, he never did 
 place intrinsic value upon any thing else. 
 
 I. / notice ancient facts. When the world was built, it is be- 
 lieved to have exhibited to the eye of its Maker unmingled beauty ; 
 and would seem to us to have had intrinsic value. But it was 
 only holiness that God valued. Sin entered, 
 
 11 Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat, 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of wo, 
 That all was lost." 
 
 There were then generated the thorn and the thistle, and the 
 curse of God lighted upon every part of this creation. A holy 
 G^pd could set no value upon a world bereft 4 of moral rectitude. 
 It would not have been surprising, had he destroyed it, and built 
 another, to be filled with beings who would obey his law, and be 
 worthy of his kind regards. But his wisdom devised a remedy, 
 and he set up in that apostate family a Church, whose interest has 
 ever since then given to every thing else its price. When the 
 Church increased, the world was valuable, and when it diminished, 
 the world became in the estimation of God comparatively a pile 
 of stubble. 
 
 Cast one look at the antedeluvian history. The Church had 
 dwindled to a point, and became at length embosomed in a single 
 family. To . save that family no pains were spared ; but all else, 
 men and things, except what was needed to feed the floating 
 Church, and enable his people to cultivate and stock the new 
 world, perished. Wealth and magnificence had now lost their 
 value. If God had pleased, he could have avenged himself of his 
 adversaries, and still have spared that vast amount of wealth, which 
 perished in their overthrow. But why do it I The treasures of 
 the old world had ceased to be valuable, when the Church was 
 gone. Their innumerable cities, walled up to heaven, and filled 
 with precious things, were all swept away. How wonderful, to 
 see Jehovah restrain the deluge one hundred and twenty years 
 after his purpose to destroy had gone out, till the ark was pre- 
 pared, his long-suffering evinced, and a happy family housed from 
 the impending desolation! This done, he collected into that 
 
58 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 house of safety all that was valuable, his little Church and what 
 they needed to sustain them during the solitary year, their food 
 and raiment, and the materials for reanimating the new world. 
 He could then smile at the tempest, and stimulate the storm. O 
 how great is God out of his holy place ! How sadly unsafe are 
 that people, and those treasures that have no connection with his 
 kingdom ! 
 
 There was offered another argument in support of the same 
 truth on the plains of Sodom. A branch of the true Church had 
 been located in that dissolute valley, and was at length in danger 
 of being swallowed up in the gulf of depravity. The population 
 was too wealthy to be wise, had too much of the meat that perish- 
 eth, to regard that meat that endureth to everlasting life. The 
 Watchman of Israel, as he surveyed the devoted plain, saw his whole 
 Church in a single house, and what was his he saved, but swept 
 away the residue. The abandoned population, their palaces, their 
 gold, their merchandize, their flocks and harvest, their gaudy 
 apparel, and all their guilty instruments of idolatry and lust, wore 
 in God's account of no value, were no part of his inheritance. 
 The moment Lot was gone, the guard that kept the plain was 
 called in. 
 
 It will not be denied that God could have avenged upon that 
 guilty community his broken law, and still have spared their riches, 
 but these had no value when his Churches had retired. If Lot or 
 Abraham could have been more holy or more happy, God would 
 have spared them the treasures he consumed. But he chose here 
 to display his vindictive justice, and create them other and bet- 
 ter comforts. All that in his estimation was valuable, he saved. 
 
 So in the land of Egypt, God collected his people into Goshen, 
 and there spread a canopy over them, while he poured out his 
 plagues upon their oppressors. Out of that little territory, there 
 was nothing in all that idolatrous land, on which he seems to have 
 placed the smallest value^. Its population, having filled up the cup 
 of their iniquity, and their monuments of grandeur, and skill, and op- 
 pression, were the merest vanity. The life or liberty of one be- 
 lieving child of Abraham out-priced them all. Hence over his 
 precious fold he placed one hand, while with the other he wrote 
 Tekel upon the walls of Egypt, and spread desolation and death 
 through its fields and its streets. The plagues I know raged un- 
 der the divine control : but they might destroy any where except 
 in Goshen. 
 
 So at the Red sea the surest laws of nature were suspended, for 
 
NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 59 
 
 the deliverance of Israel ; while the pursuing enemy seems to 
 have been as worthless, in the esteem of Israel's God, as their 
 beasts and their chariots. When the Church had reached the 
 Arabian shore, and the rear-rank was out of danger, God suffered 
 the raging waters to find their level. He had saved his people, 
 and Jhere was nothing else to save. The Egyptian army were 
 God's enemies, and their overthrow an act of retributive justice, 
 and while the tender heart bleeds over the grave of* that ill-fated 
 multitude ; we are not forbidden in the midst of our tears, to reason 
 on the palpable insecurity thus shown us of all but the Church of God. 
 He would open a path through the deep for his people, but would 
 not employ his power to hold back the sea a moment longer than 
 the safety of his Church required. 
 
 So the Amorites and Moabites melted away in in their contest 
 with Israel. And the Canaanites, when the family of Abraham 
 needed their lands, were the merest stubble, and the breath of the 
 Lord consumed them. They cried to their gods, but they perish- 
 ed in the midst of their devotions : their idols could not save 
 them. There even went out in behalf of Israel this edict, " The 
 kingdom and nation that will not serve thee shall perish." Thus 
 the world was taxed for the benefit of the Church. Nations held 
 their existence on the sole condition, that they should be found 
 useful to Israel, and perished when God ceased to have need of 
 them. "I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba for thee." 
 Now as we travel down the tract of ages, we shall find constant 
 illustrations of the fact that God values nothing else ^but his 
 Church. This one interest, as far as God has been seen to ope- 
 rate in this world, appears to have engrossed his whole care. The 
 Church is that monument which has stood and told his glory to 
 every new-born generation. Other kingdoms, rapid in their rise, 
 and dominant in their power, have gone rapidly into oblivion, and 
 heaven has kept no very careful record of their obsequies. The 
 Assyrian, the Medo-Persian, the Grecian, and Roman empires, with 
 all their multitudes, their wealth, their science, and their mili- 
 tary prowess, have perished in the wreck of time ; while through 
 all these periods not a promise of God to his people has failed, nor 
 a pious hope been unaccomplished. The little stone, cut out of 
 the mountain, without hands, has become a great mountain, while 
 the rock, from which it was hewn, is seen to crumble and perish. 
 Empires dazzling in the eye of man, but inimical to the Church of 
 Christ, were worthless in the esteem of God. Their proud sta- 
 tues, their triumphal arches ; their mausoleums, their heroes and 
 
60 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 their gods, he swept away with the besom of destruction. Baal, 
 Dagon, Moloch, and Jupitar have perished with their hosts of 
 worshippers, while not a saint has wept unnoticed, nor a prayer 
 remained unanswered. 
 
 Not for one moment has God forgotten his covenant, while he 
 has thus swept away from time, and life, whatever that covenant 
 did not include. In that darkest hour of Israel's history, the seven 
 thousand wh*o had not bowed the knee to Baal, God loved and 
 comforted with his presence ; felt all their oppressions, reproved 
 kings for their sake, put their tears into his bottle, and minuted 
 all their wrongs, that he might apportion to each, in the coming 
 life, his appropriate weight of glory. And the archives of heaven 
 can never be lost. The history of every suffering believer is writ- 
 ten as with the point of a diamond on a rock, and will remain legi- 
 ble in the day of retribution. 
 
 But I must return from this digression. I am giving you the 
 sad history of what was not the Church. There came a period 
 when Jerusalem changed its relationship to God. The Church's 
 light went out, and the religion of the sanctuary was reduced to 
 unmeaning and polluted ceremonies. The house of prayer for all 
 nations, became a den of thieves. From that moment the interest 
 which God had taken in the holy city and sanctuary was alienated. 
 No longer would God be known in palaces of Zion for a refuge. 
 The people of Jerusalem had become as worthless as those of 
 Moab or Edom. Then the moment was, that God could without 
 regret see their city demolished, and the last stone of their proud 
 temple thrown down. He loved his people, and loved Jerusalem, 
 and the temple, while they were holy : but when the priesthood 
 became corrupted, and the temple profaned, and the divine glory 
 forsook the mercy-seat, he then abandoned the consecrated spot, 
 as being no longer a section of his inheritance, and suffered the 
 hedges of his vineyard to be broken down. And he now cares no 
 more for the holy land, than for other lands. If the time shall 
 come again that his covenant people shall be there, walking in his 
 statutes, he will build again the walls he has thrown down, and 
 render Jerusalem a theatre of his glory. Up to that hour, Syria 
 and Egypt, shall be as sacred as Canaan ; and the stones and dust 
 of his temple be as uninteresting and unholy, as the ruins of de- 
 molished Babylon ; a place of dragons and of owls. 
 
 II. I come now to look at modern facts, expecting to find here 
 the same testimony, as in past events, to the truth of the doctrine, 
 
NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 61 
 
 that nothing but x the Church is safe. In the convulsions of our 
 times, we have seen everything placed at hazard, but the Church 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ. Every revolution demonstrates that 
 God has no other interest in our world. In the past half century 
 how low a price has he set upon crowns and kingdoms. And the 
 lives of armies, composed generally of ungodly men, how unwor- 
 thy have they seemed of his care. The fowls of heaven fatten 
 upon their bodies, and the soil is enriched with their blood. The 
 thousands that fell at Waterloo, if impenitent, were in the estimate 
 of heaven as worthless as the clods that covered them. But if 
 there died in that murdered multitude a pious soldier, angels will 
 watch his ashes till he rise, and God be more interested in the 
 turf that covers him, than in the splendid monument that stands 
 upon the tomb of the hero. An empire of his enemies is in God's 
 esteem of more trifling amount than one obscure believer. The 
 hosts that have died in the fields of modern battle, perished be- 
 cause the Church had no farther use for them. Else that promise 
 would not be true, " All things are yours, whether Paul, or Apol- 
 los, or Cephas, or the world." And well may we ask with the 
 poet, 
 
 " What are the earth's wide kingdoms else, 
 But mighty hills of prey ?" 
 
 In all this a believer will find no mystery. The Bible and the 
 Spirit of God have taught him, that nothing has intrinsic worth 
 but holiness, and that God can place no value upon what is worth- 
 less. Hence he lets loose his winds, which go teeming forth with 
 desolation. Navies are wrecked upon the reefs, and cities torn 
 from their base. Earthquakes spread the cry of death, and open 
 a thousand graves at a shock. Kingdoms are shaken, and whole 
 islands, with their wealth, and pride, and enterprise, sink into the 
 opening gulf. The wealth of ages perishes in the twinkling of an 
 eye, and with-it talents, eloquence, wisdom, science, the curiosities 
 of antiquity, and the close kept records of a hundred generations. 
 All this time the promise holds to God's people, " No evil shall 
 come nigh thee." Things are rich and splendid in the view of 
 men, which weigh nothing in the account of God. If one saint 
 must share in the general calamity, him the Lord watches with his 
 eye, supports him in death, and lightens the glooms of his sepul- 
 chre. But men who have filled up thek cup, and the wealth that 
 brought their perdition, all these God values at nothing. 
 
 The fact is, and no fact is more interesting, the world was built 
 
62 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 for the use of the Church. Holiness only, and that which pro- 
 motes holiness, are valuable. The walls and hedges of a vineyard, 
 are useful while there are vines to protect, and may be burned or 
 demolished when the vines are withered. Kingdoms have been 
 built and perished, and armies been congregated and slaughtered, 
 to serve the interests of the Church. Hence, said the apostle, 
 " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, 
 how shall he not with him also freely give us all things 1" 
 
 Hence to Zion's interest bends every other, is decreed every re- 
 volution, contributes every storm, rolls every ocean, and flows 
 every tide. Earth is barren or fruitful as her interests require. 
 As on the whole kingdom of Israel it might not rain for two and 
 forty months, when God's people needed the protection of a judg- 
 ment so long protracted, so may we presume that at the call of 
 Zion's interests, God now withholds, or imparts blessings. 
 
 The amount of the whole is, that nothing has value, that does 
 not contribute to advance the one interest which God has made 
 paramount in this world. Royal blood, when the king is not his 
 servant, is base and degenerate. The blood of David he watched 
 with care, knew every artery in which it flowed, for he had pro- 
 mised to his seed the throne of Israel : but the blood of Saul be- 
 came petrified in its channels. The blood of saints and martyrs is 
 royal, the blood of prophets and apostles ; for these he hath pro- 
 mised, shall sit on thrones, and wear crowns of glory that shall 
 never fade. Thus are the passing ages gleaned of every relic that 
 belongs to the saints, and when the gleanings are finished, the 
 stubble is promptly consumed. The world is still under tribute 
 to Zion, as in the ages that have gone by, and we must leave it 
 with God to say, whether he will relax the rigor of his requisi- 
 tions, till all the nations have perished, and the redeemed are all 
 brought home to heaven. I am to look, 
 
 III. Jit the events which God has assured us shall transpire hereaf- 
 ter. If by the light of promise and of prophecy we look into futu- 
 rity, God is still seen in the attitude of fostering his Church, and 
 overlooking every other interest. The kingdoms of this world 
 are to become the kingdoms of our Lord. Holiness to the Lord 
 is to be written upon the bells of the horses, as if to teach us that 
 nothing shall exist, but that which is consecrated to God. The 
 highest offices of state are to become subservient to the interests 
 of Zion. Kings are to be nursing fathers, and queens nursing 
 mothers to the Church. It is evident, on almost every page of the 
 
NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 63 
 
 prophecies, that Zion's interests are one day to absorb all other 
 interests. 
 
 The world seems already to be shaping itself to become one 
 holy empire under the Prince of peace. I would be neither an in- 
 fidel nor an enthusiast j but would fear all that God has threaten- 
 ed, and expect all that he has promised. I read, " Blessed are the 
 meek for they shall inherit the earth ;" this promise I calculate 
 will be verified. I read again, " The wicked shall be turned into 
 hell, and all the nations that forget God 5" this threatening I would 
 fear. The wealth which men would not expend in blessing Zion 
 will perish in the using. Pearls worth each a kingdom, God in- 
 tends shall be melted down in the last conflagration. When the 
 Church shall need their aid no longer, sun, moon, and stars will 
 lose their fires and their light. The heavens and the earth which 
 are now, as we are assured by the word of God, are kept in store, 
 reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, and perdition of 
 ungodly men. Thus I see the grand system consummated. 
 
 But through all these scenes, and even this last, God will be 
 kind to his people. He will not usher in that period, till the last 
 believer is sanctified. The orb of day will continue in full blaze, 
 till the last pilgrim is lighted home. When Christ has opened the 
 portals of everlasting life upon the rearmost of the ransomed mul- 
 titude, then the lights of heaven will go out. Christ will wake his 
 people, and bid them escape to heaven, before the last fires are 
 kindled. Thus to the last the Church is safe, and nothing else. 
 This one interest God ever made his care, and it will continue to 
 be his care for ever. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. If it should be objected to this reasoning, that there have been 
 periods when the Church seemed unsafe, while its foes were safe ; 
 it may be replied, that the Church still lives, and, therefore, up to 
 this time has been safe, while every other interest has been placed 
 at hazard. All the ancient foes of Zion, who for a time seemed to 
 prosper, have gone to their own place. Scarcely a trace of those 
 kingdoms, which employed their power to destroy the Church of 
 God, can now be found. And her individual foes, unless convert- 
 ed into friends, have all perished, or we see them on their way to 
 perdition. On this point we have the direct testimony of God. 
 
 Moreover, we have never seen Jehovah make bare his arm for 
 the destruction of his Church, as of her foes. He has often rebuked 
 
64 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 his people when they sinned, but they repented, and he forgave 
 them. " In a little wrath he hid his face from them for a moment ; 
 but with everlasting kindness he had mercy on them." Not. so 
 with their enemies. God has swept them away as with the besom 
 of destruction. The storms of wrath came down upon them, and 
 they did not repent till God had utterly destroyed them. It was 
 not with them a temporary rebuke and then mercy, but an utter 
 consumption. Thus the two cases infinitely differ. 
 
 2. If it be objected that the subject exhibits God as indifferent 
 to the welfare of some part of the human family ; we reply, he will 
 do none of his creatures wrong. The objection arises from view- 
 ing sin as a calamity rather than a crime. If wicked men deserve 
 only wrath, God, in destroying them, does right. 
 
 Moreover, God offers all men his love, and a sure sanctuary with 
 his people. If they will not have him to reign over them, then 
 God will appear gracious, while he provides for those who trust 
 in him, and just and holy while he leaves all others to eat the fruit 
 of their doings, 'and be filled with their own devices. 
 
 3. Let me suggest that " all are not Israel who are o/ Israel." 
 While we have thus celebrated the safety of the Church, and have 
 seen all else in danger, let it be remembered that it is the Church 
 invisible. If a false profession would secure us, the way to heaven 
 would be the broad way. But when any section of the visible Church 
 became corrupt, it perished. A false professor is of no more value 
 in the esteem of God, than an infidel. Judas and Julian had a seat 
 among the disciples, but their ruin was none the less prompt and 
 consummate. It is holiness that God values. When the Lord 
 Jesus shall come the second time, without sin unto salvation, if he 
 find any of his people without the fold, he will save them ; and if 
 he finds his foes within, he will recognize them, and send them 
 away into utter darkness, where is weeping and gnashing of 
 teeth. 
 
 4. The subject we contemplate shows us that God is interested 
 in every large or small community, more or less, as it contains a 
 greater or less amount of holiness. Show me a kingdom where 
 there are none of his elect, and with the word of God in my hand 
 I can predict its destiny. It will prolong its existence only while 
 in some way it serves the church, and will then become extinct. 
 But let a nation embosom a large body of believers, or let its ener- 
 gies be expended to serve the Church, and it has the surest possi- 
 ble defence. 
 
 Hence all that confidence which, in times of political distress, 
 
NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 65 
 
 we place in men and measures is a delusive trust. It is the pre- 
 sence of moral rectitude, and the prayer of faith, that render God 
 a nation's guardian. Yes, lovers of your country, fill our land with 
 temples, and Bibles, and truth j let it stand pre-eminent in the work 
 of spreading the gospel ; let our officers be peace, and our exact- 
 ors righteousness ; and we are more ably defended than we could 
 be by all the armies that were ever congregated, and all the navies 
 that ever rode upon the sea. Nations may boast of their strength, 
 and array their forces, but if they do not please God, and he de- 
 spise their host, they fall an easy prey. 
 
 So in a city or a town where there is no holiness God has no in- 
 terest. He will not care for our improvements in trade or indus- 
 try, or take pleasure in our accumulated fortunes. By how much 
 we subserve the interests of his kingdom, so will be the kindness 
 he will feel for us, and the care he will take of us. Unless held 
 in requisition for God, all we have is dross ; " our gold and silver 
 are corrupted, and our garments are moth-eaten." 
 
 So in churches and congregations God has an interest, and exerts 
 an agency in their behalf, exactly in proportion to the amount of 
 holiness found there. Let a Church be very corrupt, and God will 
 care but little for it ; let all its members be holy, and it stands high 
 in the estimation of Heaven. Not in exact accordance to their 
 numbers are the Churches arranged on the records of heaven. In 
 many a case shall the last be first, and the first last. And it is not 
 presumption to say, that God will apportion the visits of his mercy 
 to the aggregate of holiness that shall operate to invite down his 
 gracious and life-giving influences. How forlorn, then, is the hope 
 that God will grant seasons of refreshing where there are none to 
 pray ; and will give a new heart and a right spirit where there is 
 no house of Israel to inquire of him. 
 
 Still, when men are the most deserted as to spiritual blessings 
 God may allow them temporal prosperity. It is all the heaven he 
 will give them. Men may prosper most when they are nearest de- 
 struction. The old world and the devoted cities were never more 
 prosperous than when their last sun was rising. Men may be ripe 
 for the scythe of death, their cup of iniquity full, while yet their 
 fields wave with the abundant harvests, the atmosphere is fragrant 
 with the odours of the ripened fruits and flowers, and echoes with 
 the song of the cheerful laborer. Men often perish the sooner be- 
 cause they prosper. Riches increase, and they set their hearts 
 upon them. Any people who become rich faster than they become 
 holy, have this very destiny to fear. 
 9 
 
66 NOTHING SAFE BUT THE CHURCH. 
 
 Inquire, then, brethren in Christ , what is the extent of God's in- 
 heritance among you 1 This is a question which I feel willing to 
 press upon your consciences with the weight of a world. Answer 
 it, and you have determined the extent of God's regard for you, 
 and his care of you. The number of real believers, and the pro- 
 gress they make in holiness, are the facts that are to measure 
 your consequence under the government of God. I know this 
 thought exhibits wealth, and birth, and talents, as comparatively 
 of little worth, and is humiliating as it is true. God is not attach- 
 ed to places and names as we are, but to holiness. The territory 
 where the seven churches were, and even where the Shechinah 
 blazed, God has forsaken : and he will treat you as he has others. 
 He will never forsake you while you serve him, nor your children, 
 if they are holy, nor your seed, to a thousand generations, unless 
 they forsake God. They that despise him shall be lightly esteem- 
 ed ; but let us draw near to him and he will draw near to us. 
 
 This subject is calculated to comfort pious families. If we aim 
 to render our children holy, God will build us up a sure house for 
 ever. The poor family, who walk in the fear of God, he will con- 
 sider more worthy of his patronage than a whole community of 
 the profane and the proud. He will not command that house to 
 become extinct where he is feared and worshipped. The angels 
 will pitch their tents there, and 
 
 " What ills their heavenly care prevents, 
 No earthly tongue can tell." 
 
 If God be for us who can be against us 1 if he resolve to prosper 
 and bless us, we and ours shall be safe, amid every storm that 
 blows. No plague shall come nigh thee. 
 
 The individual believer may take all the comfort possible from 
 this subject. No matter what his station. God regards the pious 
 slave more than the impious master. The poor widow that can 
 pray, and is happy in her closet, can do more to save her land, 
 than the prayerless monarch. She can sit down calmly, and look 
 at the gathering tempest, and ask her Father to manage and con- 
 trol its violence. We shall ever find that thought, so beautifully 
 expressed by the poet, true, 
 
 " The soul that 's filled with virtue's light, 
 Shines brightest in afflictions' night : 
 And sees in darkness beams of hope. 
 Ill-tidings never can surprise 
 His heart, which fixed on God relies, 
 
NOTHING SAFE BTTT THE CHTTRCH. 67 
 
 Though waves and tempests roar around ; 
 
 Safe on a rock he sits, and sees 
 
 The shipwreck of his enemies, 
 
 And all their hope and glory drowned." 
 
 But finally the ungodly are not so ; but are like the chaff which 
 the wind driveth away. Shocking indeed beyond all description 
 is the condition of that man whom God does not love, and for 
 whose happiness he will make no provision. He may, if God's 
 plan permit, enjoy long the bounties of a gracious Providence, but 
 if God suffer him to live, and makes him an instrument of his glo- 
 ry, it will all be no evidence that he loves him. And a day must 
 soon come, when he will know his own character, and feel all the 
 guilt, and shame, and misery of his condition. To be safe or hap- 
 py, we must become a part of God's inheritance, and have a cha- 
 racter that shall interest us in his love. The sinner, then, who 
 will change his character, may wipe away his tears j but if he will 
 continue impenitent and unbelieving, he is exhorted to be afflict- 
 ed, and mourn, and weep. 
 
SERMON III. 
 PERDITION A DARK SPOT IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 
 
 EZEKIEL XVIII. 32. 
 
 I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God. 
 
 EVERY other doctrine of the Scriptures must be compatible with 
 this one. God has done enough in the work of saving sinners from 
 hell to show beyond controversy that he cannot delight in their 
 blood. The covenant of redemption, and the descent of Jesus 
 Christ to tabernacle in the flesh, and especially his death. on the 
 cross, must have satisfied even devils that God had no pleasure in 
 their blood. And then, when God gave the world the scriptures, 
 and directed that men be pressed with the invitations of mercy, 
 how could the truth of the text be doubted, even in the place of 
 torment 1 Shall the very men whose way to hell God is hedging 
 up, while he opens before them the portals of everlasting life 
 shall they have any doubt of his mercy 1 Every Sabbath, and 
 every offer of pardon and every mercy the sinner receives from 
 the hands of God, testify to his unwillingness to destroy, and his 
 willingness to save lost men. 
 
 And if, on the other hand, because sinners are abundantly con- 
 vinced that God is merciful, they are brought to doubt whether he 
 is holy and just and true, is there not an assault made upon the Di- 
 vine character, which no ingenuous being would be willing to be 
 charged with 1 May he not condemn and punish the unholy, who 
 will not repent, while yet he does not delight in the death of a 
 sinner 1 
 
 In all governments, divine and human, the laws must be execut- 
 ed, and the administration of justice must be certain. If mercy 
 interpose, it must not be in every case, else the law loses its sanc- 
 tions, and the motives to duty are lessened. And yet in every 
 government, there may be compassion the most warm in the heart 
 of him who administers justice. Nor will any thing tend so much 
 as this to honor the law and the government. When the parent, 
 
PERDITION A DARK SPOT IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 69 
 
 while he corrects the child, weeps over him, more is done to im- 
 press his conscience with a sense of guilt than can be accomplish- 
 ed by any other means. And the judge who finds it impossible to 
 suppress his tears, while he reads to the criminal the sentence of 
 death, makes a deep and dreadful impression on the conscience of 
 the culprit. He puts on his chains again and goes to his dungeon 
 a sober-thinking man. 
 
 And the same principle must operate in the divine government. 
 God has assured us that upon some he inten4s to execute the full 
 penalty of the law. And yet over these he bends with a sympathy 
 indescribably tender, " How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ] how 
 shall I deliver thee, Israel ] how shall I make thee as Admah, how 
 shall I set thee as Zeboim 1 my heart is turned within me, my re- 
 pentings are kindled together." " If thou hadst known, even thou, 
 at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! 
 but now they are hidden from thine eyes." Judgment is declared 
 to be his strange work. He has no pleasure in the death of him 
 that dieth. God may see the necessity of executing his law 
 while he may wish there had not been that necessity, and that his 
 kingdom could be as safe and happy in administering mercy as in 
 the display of justice. It is when the destruction of the sinner is 
 viewed in itself, separated from the bearing it may have upon the 
 general welfare of the universe, that God has no pleasure in it. Of 
 this we shall be satisfied when we consider what is implied in the 
 ruin of a soul. 
 
 I. It is painful to see such noble affections misplaced. The very 
 spirit that falls under the divine condemnation, and goes to endure 
 the outer darkness, and gnawing worm, is capable of putting forth 
 the best affections. The sinner was created capable of loving the 
 Father, Son and Holy Ghost, with all the subjects of God's holy 
 kingdom, his law, his gospel,, and his service. True, he could not 
 have comprehended entirely their nature, but he could have known 
 enough to have risen to the most ardent glow of affection. Though 
 he could not have loved as angels do, could not have glowed with 
 the ardor of cherubim and seraphim, yet could he have reached a 
 sublimity of holy emotion which would have rendered him glorious 
 in their eyes, and entitled him to a station high and honorable 
 among the hosts of heaven. The Savior he could have loved 
 with peculiar affection, such as angels cannot feel. In the strain 
 of praise which told of dying love, they would have yielded him 
 the highest note ; and probably when ages of ages had given him 
 
70 PERDITION A DARK SPOT 
 
 opportunity to improve his powers in the salubrious climes of 
 heaven, there might have appeared far less difference between his 
 powers and theirs than now, and eternity might at length have 
 seen him rising through a thousand grades till he had filled a sta- 
 tion by their side, and had beamed with an ardor of attachment 
 not inferior to theirs. 
 
 But these noble affections are all misplaced. Neither God nor 
 the holy subjects of his kingdom have any share in his affections. 
 He glows with no pure desire ; he sees nothing in God, nor in 
 what he loves, that in his account has any worth. That which 
 charms the angels and enraptures all the holy family has nothing 
 in it that can move one affection. His own polluted self, his foul 
 person and ruined character, engrosses in his eye all the loveliness 
 in the universe. He can hate most cordially that which good 
 beings love. He calls home every affection, and becomes himself 
 a little world, engrossing every care, every wish, and every hope. 
 Thus can he love himself supremely, while all others consider him 
 the essence of deformity. 
 
 Now can any suppose that God has pleasure in seeing such no- 
 ble affections so misplaced 1 Would he not rather delight to be 
 their object, and satisfy their immense capacities with his own 
 immensity ? We shall be still more deeply impressed with the 
 sentiment of the text on reviewing again the state of the lost sin- 
 ner to see 
 
 II. Such keen sensations tortured. When God shall execute his 
 law upon the sinner, every sense, both of body and mind, will be- 
 come an inlet of misery. The body will be fuel for the flames, 
 and, if we can learn any thing from Scripture, will welter in brim- 
 stone and fire for ever. The rich man lifts up his eyes in hell, 
 being in torment, and begs a drop of water to cool his tongue, while 
 between him and heaven there is an .impassable gulf. We read, 
 " that they shall gnaw their tongues for pain," " their worm shall 
 not die, nor their fire be quenched." 
 
 And while the body thus suffers, the soul will be the inlet of 
 another species of misery not less dreadful. It will be subject to 
 envy, wrath, shame, guilt, disappointment, and despair. And all 
 these corroding passions will live commensurate with the duration 
 of the soul. To see heaven happy, and heaven will be for ever happy, 
 will feed the flames of envy. The quarrel continuing between 
 God and the sinner will for ever produce new sensations of wrath. 
 The law continuing in full force, with all its dreadful sanctions, 
 
IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 71 
 
 will fill the soul with guilt that can never abate, and this guilt will 
 produce correspondent shame. The memory alive to recollec- 
 tion, will perpetuate the sensation of disappointment, while the 
 certainty that God remains unalterably true, will render despair 
 eternal. Thus will there be some fuel to feed the flames of every 
 passion, while these passions will corrode the mind and fill the 
 whole soul with misery. 
 
 Every new inlet of light will kindle anew the fires of the pit, 
 while, till the judgment, the still increasing number of convicts 
 will exhibit living testimony that God is resolved to be respected 
 and loved by all his intelligent subjects, or treat them as outlaws 
 in his kingdom. And when the pit shall be full, and every cavern 
 shall ring with the howlings of despair, it will be seen that just 
 enough are lost to express suitably God's everlasting resentment 
 of sin, "and the smoke of their torment shall ascend up for 
 ever and ever," as a living testimony of his unchangeable holiness, 
 justice, and truth. At their dreadful expense the righteous will 
 for ever cry Hallelujah. 
 
 Now to see such sensations tortured while they might have 
 been the inlets of pleasure unspeakable, must be a sight which 
 can have nothing in it calculated to please Jehovah. He is a God 
 of tender compassion ; possesses bowels of mercies. God feels 
 when his creatures suffer, as much more sensibly than we feel as 
 his heart is more tender an.d his soul more benevolent. Hence he 
 is represented as moved by the entreaties of his people, and is 
 said to avenge his elect, who cry day and night unto him. How 
 can such a being have any pleasure in the miseries of the damned 1 
 But when we see 
 
 III. Such great expectations disappointed, the doctrine of the text 
 is still more firmly established. The sinner on whom we have 
 fixed our eye, was born perhaps a child of promise. Over his 
 very cradle his parents planning his future course, imagined that 
 they saw opening before him a luminous and useful track. They 
 assigned him first earthly distinctions, and then a crown of life. 
 Perhaps he was the subject of many prayers, and consequently of 
 many hopes. As he advanced in his course there kindled up great 
 expectations in his own breast ; he set out to be great below and 
 greater still above. Perhaps his early life promised much, and his 
 hopes far outwent his prospects. His friends and neighbors had 
 their expectations raised it may be to an amazing height. And in 
 the mean time his Maker, (for His property in us must not be for- 
 
72 PERDITION A DARK SPOT 
 
 gotten) had a right to calculate on his future usefulness and great- 
 ness. He had made him a noble spirit, furnished him with abun- 
 dant light and means, and watched his opening genius with more 
 than paternal solicitude. He had formed him fit for the noblest 
 service, and why had he not a right to calculate on his future 
 greatness 1 I do not mean that God could be disappointed or 
 could be grieved, in the sense that we may, but the Scriptures do 
 warrant us to say in reference to a case like this, " It repented 
 God that he had made man upon the earth and it grieved him to 
 his very heart." How dreadful that man should so conduct him- 
 self as to extort a sigh like this from the bosom of his Maker, 
 thus, as it were, defeating the great end of his being, and laying 
 prostrate ^very hope that hung upon his existence. 
 
 Now view the man in misery, and see all these expectations 
 lost, and for a moment weep over him. He meant to wear a 
 crown, but found a halter ; he aspired to a throne, but reached a 
 gibbet ; he hoped for heaven, but sunk to hell. He intended to 
 be an heir of God, but inherited everlasting burnings. He aspired 
 to become an angel of light, but became a fiend of darkness. 
 How dreadful to see such hopes withered, such reasonable expec- 
 tations blighted by the frosts of the second death. How can there 
 be in such an object any thing that can fill the heart of God with 
 pleasure 1 Were it the seat of malevolence instead of mercy, it 
 could hardly fail to weep over such costly ruins. The unexpected 
 extinction of a thousand suns would not exhibit equal hopes ex- 
 tinguished. God could light a thousand more, and thus repair 
 the breach ; but souls he never will annihilate, nor build again 
 their ruins ; then how can God have any pleasure in the death of 
 him that dieth 1 
 
 IV. We contemplate him again with, still deeper regret to see such, 
 useful talents lost. View some great man now in torment. While 
 on earth, his spirit, although cumbered with a dying body, ex- 
 hibited amazing enterprise. He could count the stars and measure 
 the diameter and distance of every planet. He could conceive 
 the noblest projects, and trace to its final result every enterprise. 
 Now free such a v soul from its cumbrous clay, give it angel's 
 wings, light well its track, let its powers grow and enlarge through 
 eternity, and what could it not achieve 1 Conceive of Locke or 
 Newton now in hell, after exploring every labyrinth of the moral 
 and the physical world. Or if men so heavenly in contemplation 
 may not be mentioned in connection with hell ; think of Hume, 
 
IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 73 
 
 and Voltaire, and Bolingbroke, men of noble minds, but who 
 hated the Son of God. See them in torment. Had they been, as 
 good as they were great, how useful ! And must their gigantic 
 minds dwindle to the stature of a dwarf, and only be to be de- 
 graded 1 What a pity ! What an evil ! What a loss ! What a 
 loss to themselves! Their greatness but prepares them to be 
 miserable, while it might have made them happy. What a loss to 
 all heaven ! There their noble spirits would have found employ- 
 ments suited to their nature. What noble projects of holy ambi- 
 tion might they have originated ! What inspiration might such 
 spirits have breathed into the songs of heaven ! What new dis- 
 coveries of God and truth might they have made in the clear light 
 of that celestial world ! What anthems might they have invented ! 
 What strains of hallelujah ! How a soul, so noble in its structure, 
 could swell and sweeten the music of the heavenly choir ! Ima- 
 gine it redeemed from hell, and joined to the choir of heaven, as 
 a soft sweet viol, tuned to please an angel's ear, and swelling every 
 note it sings to the sweetest, softest melody, and what a pity, that 
 such a viol should be converted into fuel, and feed the fires of the 
 pit. And if you suppose every spirit of equal dimension, and 
 differing only in the structure of its clay organs ; then suppose 
 that the ten thousands who have gone to despair are ransomed 
 and joined as so many well-tuned instruments to the music of that 
 happy world, and what a revenue of praise would redound to God ! 
 Who can view the subject in this light and not feel pained that 
 souls must perish 1 " Oh that my head were waters, and mine 
 eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the 
 slain of the daughter of my people." Oh, the cursed tragedy of 
 the fall, which placed noble spirits where they are utterly lost. 
 For they can be of no use to each other in the place of misery. 
 " Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished." 
 Were there accumulated in hell all the noblest talents of the 
 created universe, they could not escape the hand of justice. iThey 
 could neither bridge the gulf that partitions hell from heaven, nor 
 extinguish the fires that consume them. So satisfied of this was 
 the rich man, that he begged he might never see his brethren in 
 that place of torment. If, then, the noblest talents would be use- 
 less in hell, and could be so well.employed in heaven, what a loss 
 is the damnation of a soul ! And why will not the loss, although 
 it would have been a greater loss to save them, impenitent, be felt 
 forever 1 If any government should be under the necessity of 
 imprisoning for life its noblest geniuses, would not the loss be 
 10 
 
74 PERDITION A DARK SPOT 
 
 felt and be deplored by the very monarch who barred their prison 1 
 Yes, and God will be sensible forever of the loss of talents in per- 
 dition, and will forever view that world as a dark spot in his crea- 
 tion, although rendering the remainder more beautiful. How then 
 can he have any pleasure at all in the death of him that dieth 1 
 And we shall be convinced of this truth when we have taken one 
 more view of the lost sinner, and see 
 
 V. Such a noble vessel polluted. He was calculated to be a vessel 
 of honor, prepared unto glory, and might have been the everlast- 
 ing recipient of eternal mercy. How largely might he have re- 
 ceived the overflowings of infinite benevolence ! And if the soul 
 had perpetually enlarged, and been kept full of love, and joy, and 
 peace, what a rich and lovely treasure would such a spirit have 
 been ! Angels would pay respect to such a soul, and God himself 
 would be pleased. But the vessel is polluted. " The gold has 
 become dim and the most fine gold changed." If you should see 
 a golden goblet filled with the defilements of a sink, how incon- 
 gruous ! how repulsive to the sight ! But how much more dis- 
 gusting to see a heaven-born soul filled with the corruptions of 
 sin ! If it should be our destiny to be lost we shall be forever dis- 
 gusted at ourselves ; and angels and God will view us with eternal 
 loathing ; devils, our companions in misery, will despise us and 
 themselves much more. The lost spirit will be the most filthy 
 object in the universe. God will be for ever happy, but his joy, 
 his life, his pleasure, must be in other objects ; and if the deity 
 may not be pained, so neither may he be pleased with the scenes 
 of the pit 5 and will he not cover it with a cloud of smoke which 
 shall obscure its defilements from the vision of the blessed 1 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. God will not damn any who do not oblige him to do so 
 in order to secure the honor of his name and kingdom : judg- 
 ment is his strange work. If he takes no pleasure at all in the 
 death of him that dieth, how can we believe that any will per- 
 ish whose eternal ruin is not necessary to show the justice, the 
 truth, and the holiness of God, to vindicate his law, or honor his 
 government 1 None, then, of my readers will perish but such as 
 make themselves vile, and continue obstinately disobedient, resist- 
 ing the influences of the Holy Spirit, till God gives them up to 
 their own hearts' lusts, and swears in his wrath that they shall not 
 
IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 75 
 
 enter into his rest. And even such he will spare as long as the 
 good of his holy kingdom will permit. 
 
 2. Hence we see why sinners who will finally be lost are so long 
 kept out of hell. God abhors the work of destruction, and will 
 spare them till there is no hope of their repentance, and even 
 when hope is gone, may spare them still, unless the good of his 
 kingdom require their immediate destruction. And I know not 
 that any sacred text has assured us that sinners shall perish as 
 soon as they are given over to hardness of heart and blindness of 
 mind. The probability is that they are spared longer, that God 
 may appear infinitely gracious while he destroys them. 
 
 3. He not only spares them, but follows them with the invita- 
 tions of his mercy. He gives them line upon line and precept 
 upon precept. Minister after minister is raised up to proclaim to 
 them the unsearchable riches of Christ. He stands and pleads 
 with them " till his head is wet with the dew and his locks with 
 the drops of the night." He seems reluctant to destroy them, and 
 so varies the means and arguments that urge them to repentance. 
 He tries every gracious method to move them, sends judgments 
 and mercies, and, when all means have failed and they are joined 
 to their idols, he lets them alone. 
 
 4. No more will finally be lost than is absolutely necessary. 
 No more than just enough to clear his character from impeach- 
 ment, and his law and government from reproach. 
 
 5. There must be something very odious in sin, since God so 
 abhors it, that he will destroy men who do not repent of it and 
 are not sanctified, although he hates the work of destruction. 
 While we thus see the heart of God moved with compassion for 
 perishing men, and as it were grieving at the necessity of exe- 
 cuting upon them the rigors of his law, and yet determined upon 
 that execution, it seems forever to settle the question, that " sin 
 is that abominable thing which his soul hateth." For that some 
 will perish after all that has appeared of the divine compassion, 
 there can be no doubt. Divine veracity is pledged for the de- 
 struction of all those " that know not God, and obey not the gospel 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ." And the divine character must suffer, 
 if finally the whole human family should be saved. Hence every 
 honest man, as he reads his Bible, is there taught to expect an 
 event, which, undesirable as it may be in itself, is rendered neces- 
 sary by the obstinacy of sinners. And if it should be inquired, 
 Why does not God save all by sanctifying their hearts 1 we can 
 only answer, " Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy 
 
76 PERDITION A DARK SPOT 
 
 sight." Perhaps the excellency of the law could never be so fully 
 seen as in the destruction of sinners, and perhaps heaven could 
 never he so happy, were not its joys contrasted with the miseries 
 of the second death. Be these things as they may, it is evidently 
 the purpose of God, that, in the ruin of the lost, sin shall show its 
 odious nature as it never did before. It has compelled Jehovah 
 to kindle the fires of tophet, and as he shall be seen to feed their 
 flames for ever, that he may suitably express his abhorrence of sin, 
 there will be none in all the universe who will question its odious- 
 ness. As much as men love sin now, they will yet be brought to 
 see that it is a viper whose fangs convey death to the soul. And 
 it will yet appear hateful even to the lost. 
 
 6. The weakest saint need not fear but that God will bring him 
 to heaven. Justice will not require him to condemn any of his 
 people, and he will condemn no more than is necessary no more 
 than justice requires. Not one that has ever believed on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, need have any apprehension that he will be lost. 
 God will find enough who have rejected the Savior to the last to 
 answer in their destruction all the purposes of his vindictive justice. 
 
 7. We need have no apprehensions that any decree of God will 
 keep men out of heaven, who are willing to comply with his terms 
 of salvation. God has always felt as he felt in the days of Eze- 
 kiel. If so, there never was a time when he could make any cruel 
 decree that will now oblige him to do what his soul abhors. His 
 decrees secure the salvation of as many as it will comport with 
 the best good of his kingdom to save. Hence none need be afraid 
 to believe lest some decree of God should still cut them off from 
 life. Indeed the decrees of heaven are the purposes of love. 
 Had there been no purposes of election he must have condemned 
 all our race. To prevent this he resolved to make some willing 
 in the day of his power. 
 
 8. As it is a fact revealed, that some will perish, and as their 
 ruin is a thing in which God takes no pleasure ; and as we cannot 
 doubt but that God will still be for ever happy, so we see that his 
 people may for ever sing and rejoice, while they shall know that 
 some of their fellow-men are for ever miserable, and' shall see the 
 smoke of their torment ascending up for ever and ever. With the 
 limited views we have now it would seem that it must make us 
 unhappy ; but the saved will see more clearly than we can at pre- 
 sent the necessity of those dreadful measures, and they will not 
 wish nor dare to suppress their hallelujahs. 
 
 They will not be destitute of sympathy, nor look even with cold 
 
IN THE MORAL LANDSCAPE. 77 
 
 indifference at the miseries of the lost, but so supremely will they 
 regard the glory of God, and so distinctly will they see the neces- 
 sity of vindictive punishments that they will he satisfied. 
 
 And now will not this subject urge sinners to repentance ? If 
 God, in view of the worth of the soul, is so unwilling to destroy 
 it, and yet will proceed to destroy if men will not repent, then 
 they ought to repent. He will surely reverse the doom of all who 
 do repent. He is waiting on sinners that they may save him the 
 necessity of destroying them. He will be glad, then, to see the 
 prodigal turning his eye towards his father's house, and will haste 
 to meet him, and will pardon him and love him. He will be glad 
 to make you happy. He has no pleasure in your destruction, but 
 will be glad and happy in your salvation. He has always been 
 blessed, since there were creatures, in making them blessed, and 
 will be as joyful in blessing you as he has been in blessing others. 
 
 9. How infatuated is the inference that men of .corrupt minds 
 have drawn from these expressions of the divine compassion ; that 
 since God does not delight in the destruction of sinners, he will 
 destroy none ! He has asserted the contrary ; that some shall go 
 away into outer darkness, where is weeping and gnashing of teeth ; 
 that the smoke of their torments shall ascend up for ever and ever j 
 that their worm shall not die, nor their fire be quenched ; that 
 where Christ is they can never come ; that it had been better for 
 them if they had never been born ; that they shall depart accursed 
 into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. Still, 
 having asserted that he has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, 
 they will believe that his threatenings mean nothing ; that he will 
 falsify his truth to gratify his mercy ; will let his word, and his 
 law, and his honor perish, because he does not delight to make his 
 creatures miserable. That system of universal salvation thus built 
 professedly on ttie mercy of God is the most impious system that 
 the enemy of souls has ever fabricated ; oh, it is the cold and 
 bloody climax of depravity ; it offers to God an open insult ; it 
 would turn his own truth against himself, and breed confusion and 
 war in his own councils. 
 
SERMON IV. 
 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 PSALM XX. I, 2. 
 
 The Lord hear thee In the day of trouble ; the name of the God of Jacob defend thee, send 
 thee help from the sanctuary and Btrenghen thee out of Zion. 
 
 THE house of God is the emblem of all the divine institutions. 
 With its prosperity has ever been identified the blessedness of 
 that community who have made it their rallying point. It told the 
 state of Israel under the varied scenes of prosperity and adversity. 
 When its treasury was full and its altars in repair, and the daily 
 sacrifices were offered, and the court was guarded from pollution, 
 and the priests consecrated themselves, and the tribes came up^ 
 the tribes of the Lord to the testimony of Israel, then it went well 
 with the people of God. But when the devoted house of prayer 
 was made a den of thieves, and the Levites had gone every one to 
 his field, and the buyer and seller, and the money-changers occu- 
 pied the consecrated sanctuary, then had the glory departed. 
 
 And in all the ages since in lands where the true God is known, 
 if at a single glance one would learn the state of any people, let 
 him follow the sound of the church-going bell and look into thqir 
 sanctuary. There he can read their condition in unequivocal 
 lines. I would lie without a roof to cover me, and make my bed 
 in the clefts of the rock, but must find my way to the house of the 
 Lord, and fix my dying grasp on the horns of his altar. All that 
 is thriving and healthful in any section of Christendom is suspend- 
 ed on the interest taken in the house of God ; and if things are 
 not prosperous, and men would see their captivity brought back, 
 they must seek their help in the sanctuary, and be strengthened 
 out of Zion. God is the only source of their help and their salva- 
 tion. They may try all other means first, as many a wretched 
 people have done, but they will only pine away in their bondage 
 till they build the house of the Lord. 
 
 But why inquires that multitude, who have no confidence in 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 79 
 
 the over-ruling providence of a wise and holy God why must 
 help come from the sanctuary 1 I answer, 
 
 I. It is the place where God's honor dwells. When Israel would 
 have the help and guidance of Jehovah they made application at 
 the temple where his glory was seen in the holy place, and where 
 he had appointed to respond to their supplications. 
 
 If famine, or war, or pestilence preyed upon them, their imme- 
 diate resort was to the temple. I know that under the gospel dis- 
 pensation there is less of the visible and the tangible in religion, 
 than in the times of Israel, yet is there none the less of the reali- 
 ty. We have as firm an assurance, as had the ancient church, that 
 God is present with his people, and fills the sanctuary with his 
 glory, and that we may with the same assurance apply for help at 
 the place where his honor dwells. And where is that place 
 found rather than where his gospel is proclaimed, and his people 
 congregated, and his ordinances administered, and his everlasting 
 covenant ratified with his chosen, and his sanctifying Spirit sent 
 down to cleanse and to purify 1 What place can he favor more 1 
 Where make a richer deposite of his glory ? Where rather lend 
 a propitious ear to the cries of his people ? At hi& sanctuary we 
 may calculate to meet with God, and the people who cut them- 
 selves off from that holy place can expect no help in their straits 
 and their distresses. Had some wayward tribes of Israel refused 
 to have any connection with the tabernacle and the temple, that 
 tribe must have been without any light or guidance from Heaven 
 The history of the ten tribes is in proof. Refusing to repair to the 
 place where God had appointed to meet them he met them no- 
 where, would not respond to their cries, or guide them in the day of 
 trouble. They wandered in darkness as the blind grope at noon- 
 day. 
 
 And wherein is the case altered now 1 The people who forsake 
 the sanctuary, or leave others to sustain and enjoy its worship, are 
 without God and without hope in the world, and their conduct will 
 soon tell on their character and their condition. There will some 
 plague await them that will be entailed to their children, and por- 
 tray their folly at an hour too late perhaps for mem to become 
 wise. When the captives hanged their harps upon the willows of 
 Babylon, they remembered the sanctuary, how things prospered 
 with them, when the " tribes went up, the tribes of the Lord, to 
 the testimony of Israel." But thev had neglected the institutions 
 
80 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 of Heaven too long, and the decree had gone out that most of that 
 generation should die in their bondage. The enemy had been 
 advertised of their mistake, and tauntingly said, " Sing us one of 
 Zion's songs." And their desponding reply, " How shall we sing 
 the Lord's song in a strange land," portrays the misery of that 
 people in gospel times that go not for help to the sanctuary. They 
 must waste away in their miseries, till they shall know and their 
 children after them, how terribly God can avenge himself on his 
 enemies. 
 
 II. The house of God is the place of united and fervent prayer. 
 We hazard nothing in saying, that all who pray meet there. Such 
 cannot voluntarily and habitually absent themselves from the place 
 where God has appointed to meet them, and hold communion with 
 them. And they come to pray and unite their prayers, and the 
 promise of God is, that whatever they shall ask it shall be done for 
 them. 
 
 The infidel only will doubt, whether prayer has efficacy. God's 
 promise to hear, and the believing assurance that God has heard 
 him in the time accepted, and in the day of salvation has succored 
 him, begets confidence in the use of prayer. And its increased 
 efficacy, when united and fervent, and the assurance tha* it will 
 have unity and fervency in the sanctuary, point out that place as 
 the source of their help in the hour of danger and of suffering. 
 Any privilege but the immediate smiles of God, I would dispense 
 with sooner than have no share in the prayers of God's people 
 offered in the holy place. I would be without the means of self- 
 defence, without the protection of law, and without a shelter for 
 my head at night, but should not dare to be cut off from an inter- 
 est in the prayers of the sanctuary. Let no shower or dew fall 
 on my territory, or breeze fan my habitation, or genial sun warm 
 me ; but let me not be excluded from the health-bearing influence 
 of the house of prayer. Others can go to their farms or their 
 merchandise, or their journeys, or their book-keeping on the 
 Lord's day, and let the prayers of the sanctuary go. But if there 
 does not come a blight over their fading hopes, and they do not 
 find that moth and rust corrupt their treasures, then we have mis- 
 taken the ways of God. We shall watch to see what destiny 
 overtakes their property and their children after the lapse of a 
 few years. If facts may testify, the interests of the present life 
 as well as the life to come, depend on the identity we establish 
 between them and the supplications of the house of prayer. The 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 81 
 
 prompt and faithful supporter and constant attendant upon the 
 sanctuary may calculate to prosper. "Them that honor me I 
 will honor." The less frequent attendance and the less prompt 
 and generous support may be associated with a kind of paralysed 
 and stationary prosperity. " To the froward thou wilt show thy- 
 self froward." The entire neglect will be the harbinger of dark- 
 ness and decay. " They that despise me shall be lightly esteem- 
 ed." Neither prosperity nor character are sure where there is 
 wanting the guardianship of prayer. Not the pointed rod which 
 turns away the lightnings, answers a purpose more kind, in the 
 natural, than prayer in the moral world. 
 
 III? The house of God is the radiant point of sanctifying truth. 
 It was the prayer of the Lord Jesus for the destined heirs of sal- 
 vation, "Sanctify them through thy truth." And God has re- 
 vealed it as his purpose, " By the foolishness of preaching to save 
 them that believe," Hence from the lips of the living preacher go 
 out those doctrines that operate to sanctify the hearts of men. 
 And who dare hope that society can prosper, where no hearts are 
 sanctified * " Ye are the salt of the earth." A whole unregene- 
 rate family constitutes a very dark house, where insubordination 
 kindles many a fire ; and a town, or county, or state, where there 
 were none regenerated, would be an unmanageable community. 
 Society owes more than it will acknowledge to the influence of 
 piety. It lays upon men a restraint even where the number of the 
 pious is small, that is productive of more peace and order and 
 prosperity, than all other means combined. Survey those lands, 
 where no sanctifying religion operates to mould the manners, and 
 fix the principles, and restrain the passions of ungodly men. 
 They are desolated. The passions excited, with no power present 
 to tame or restrain them, spread a destruction wide and wasteful 
 as human power can generate. After this survey, if you do not 
 feel glad that your lot is cast into a gospel land, then will we 
 abandon the argument and help you lay the temple prostrate. At 
 one glance you will see a religion that eats up its population like 
 a pestilence. At another you will see prevailing falsehood, and 
 fraud, and theft, till no man sees another in whom he places con- 
 fidence. Domestic happiness, and conjugal fidelity, and parental 
 and filial regard, are things for which their language has not a 
 name. And everywhere where the gospel is not, there prevails a 
 government that rules with a sceptre of iron; The hardest des- 
 potism is rendered necessary by the absence of moral restraints 
 11 
 
82 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 If piety must be or misery, there must be that truth which sanctifies, 
 and the sanctuary whence that truth issues. Throw prostrate the 
 altar of God, and there will be no power found that can sustain 
 the sanctifying doctrines of revelation. " What God hath joined 
 together let no man put asunder." The house of God ever has 
 been and must be the grand receptacle of light from heaven, and 
 thence it issues to restrain the passions, and mould the manners, 
 and repair with the divine blessing the ruins of the apostacy. 
 
 IV. The instruction of God's house is the grand agent in the for- 
 mation of public sentiment. 
 
 I now refer to an influence that goes out from that holy place, 
 to affect all men, whether they will or will not be controlled by 
 that influence. To the ungodly, public sentiment is an irresistible 
 law. You could bind the thief and the robber by it. Surround 
 them with only purity of sentiment, and you would make them 
 honest. No man can habitually do what all about him disapprove. 
 The most depraved would be perfectly wretched, embosomed in a 
 holy community, till they could break from their prison, and find 
 some fastness in the mountains, where they could associate with 
 men of their own stamp. Human laws are weak and inoperative, 
 but as they are sustained by public sentiment ; murder is com- 
 mitted with impunity in those lands where a public depraved sen- 
 timent is stronger than law. I would not give a straw for that 
 defence that law holds out in the absence of a correct public 
 opinion to sustain it. And there is no means powerful like the 
 house of God in the formation of that opinion. There issue thence 
 not merely the doctrines that sanctify, but the sub-principles that 
 moralize, and mould, and restrain the public mind. And this in- 
 fluence it exerts not merely upon the sabbath assembly, but the 
 men that despise the control of principles that either God or man 
 can enforce. The men who attend the sanctuary bear out into 
 society and act out in their deportment its principles \ and others 
 catch the moralizing influence and spread it wider and still wider 
 over the surface of an apostate and degenerate community, till the 
 whole mass is leavened. Hence that portion of society which 
 stand aloof from the house of God, and perhaps gnash their teeth 
 at its holy solemnities, are blessed through its influence. It bears 
 obliquely upon them, but is mighty like no other law they listen 
 to. It gives them indirectly all their civil privileges, the peace- 
 able possession of their rights, security of life and exemption from 
 midnight depredations and from hourly oppressions. It sets a 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 83 
 
 watch about them at the expense of others, a watch which they 
 should be ashamed to let their fellow-men sustain alone, but with- 
 out which society would be a den of thieves. When we say of 
 any one that he is a shameless fellow, what more can we say to 
 give him the lowest character 1 But to become shameless, what 
 is it but to hold public sentiment in utter contempt 1 It is this 
 that keeps our world from becoming a shameless community, and 
 for this kind guardian of our best earthly interests every man is 
 indebted to the sanctuary. 
 
 V. The house' of God sustains all the other civilizing and health- 
 ful institutions. Identified with it are a preached gospel and the 
 ministry of reconciliation. These all sustain each other. And 
 hence the sin of disturbing, with controversy and disunion, a 
 regular sanctuary-going people, is one of no ordinary magnitude. 
 The Sabbath, too, is sustained by the sanctuary. When or where 
 was there ever a Sabbath kept by a people who were regardless 
 of the public worship of God 1 Will there be a Sabbath in the 
 private circle, where there is no solemn Sabbath-keeping assembly, 
 and the inspiration of the church-going bell is not felt 1 No, no. 
 Trace the world over, and no such thing can be found. If men 
 tarry at home, they will be about their secular concerns, and the 
 day will be amalgamated with the days not sanctified. Hence in 
 those lately dark places of the earth, where they have recently 
 got up a Sabbath, they have simultaneously erected them a sanc- 
 tuary, and the one sustains the other. And all the means of edu- 
 cation stand on the same basis. Schools, academies and colleges 
 owe their very existence to their connection with the house of 
 God. The ministers of religion have ever sustained these insti- 
 tutions, and they perish, sure as the frosts of autumn strip the 
 wood of its foliage, soon as they aim at independence on the higher 
 institutions of religion. After the darkest times, when learning 
 seemed to have taken its flight from the earth, its embryo was 
 found to have been sustained in the retreats of the priesthood. 
 The retributions of heaven have developed its purpose, that reli- 
 gion and science be indissolubly yoked to the sanctuary, as their 
 foster-mother. And the evidence on this point is brought to our 
 very doors. In those districts of our regular Sabbath-keeping 
 congregations, where the population have abandoned the sanctu- 
 ary, their schools decline, and the merest being, that has impudence 
 enough to apply, will be intrusted with the immortal interests of 
 their children. It is common as life, to find some low-minded, 
 
84- THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 foul-mouthed Sabbath-breaker immured in the schools in those 
 districts, which are not represented in the Sabbath assembly. And 
 why expect it otherwise 1 Men will not look far above their own 
 standard to find a teacher for their children. They will not wish 
 one whose example reproves their own practice, and whose creed 
 reprobates their infidelity. Now, let a whole town become like 
 one of these abandoned districts, and its schools, if any thing that 
 deserves the name remains, will all be of the same character. A 
 palpable darkness comes over the whole community. All im- 
 provement of intellect is undervalued, and the people verge 
 towards heathenism by sure and rapid strides. A coarseness of 
 attire, and a clownishness of manners, and the growth of all the low 
 and vulgar vices, close in now upon the retreat of mind and morals. 
 And in the mean time men suffer in their interest ten times the 
 cost of sustaining the gospel. Restraint is removed from vice, 
 and the enemies of virtue, sustained by a perverse public senti- 
 ment, walk undisguised their guilty round of midnight depreda- 
 tions. Vice, that law was invented to punish, claims its protec- 
 tion. Acts of inebriation, and lust, and profanity, and falsehood, 
 and every other daring outrage upon the laws of God and the 
 peace of society are at length, perhaps, unblushingly committed, 
 rendering insecure every interest of man, temporal and spiritual. 
 The prudent man must now expend, upon the vices of his children, 
 many times the sum that would have nobly sustained the gospel 
 institutions. But, alas ! he withheld his support from these to 
 buy his offspring the means of their eternal undoing. He saved 
 the price of helping to build the sanctuary, and the pittance re- 
 quired to support the ministry, and equip his family for the occu- 
 pancy of their pew; and, added to these, he saved all the earnings 
 of the Sabbath-day, but he saved it to put it into a bag with holes ; 
 to bequeath it to an infidel, a debauched and profligate offspring. 
 If a very small portion of the estate had been expended for their 
 religions education, and they had acquired some knowledge of 
 God, and a conscience rectified by his word, they might have been 
 men, and possessed more than the virtues of a father, and been en- 
 trusted with his estate and the honors of his house, to hand down 
 his name and his praise to unborn generations. But the self-abus- 
 ed father now on his dying-bed sees nothing else to do but put his 
 large estate into the purse of vagabonds where it will evaporate 
 like the dew of morning, or rot and breed corruption, and carry 
 death through the whole field of its pestiferous exhalations. It 
 does not bless his sons, but renders them the more capable of be- 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 85 
 
 ing incurably profligate. The merest poverty, depriving them of 
 the means of beastly indulgence, might have begotten hope of their 
 redemption. But the poor father must now disinherit his child- 
 ren, or totally damn them. And in the mean time through his 
 money and his heirs pours out pestilence upon society, and gene- 
 rates a plague to operate the ruin of unborn generations. But 
 that father has only himself to blame. His son formed the best 
 character he could with the means his father furnished him. 
 Among these means there was no sanctuary, nor Sabbath, nor 
 ministry, nor valuable library, nor school, nor domestic piety, nor 
 parents' holy example, to give him character and virtue, and ren- 
 der him a man. And while this individual loss is going on, by the 
 sacrilege of the sanctuary, there is a gradual and yet perceptible 
 sinking of the interest of the whole community. The original po- 
 pulation are perishing. And no change of inhabitants will alter 
 circumstances for the better. For the man of decent habits who 
 has any character or interest to lose will not take up his residence 
 in a territory so desolate and approaching evidently towards a still 
 grosser desolation. Sinking property will ever be held above its 
 value till it reaches its lowest price. Hence no exchange of po- 
 pulation will be for the better, but all for the worse. They may 
 get rid of many a low and mean and troublesome family, but must 
 invariably receive in exchange the very dregs of some other ill-fat- 
 ed and miserable community. It will now infallibly result that 
 every inch of territory is subjected to perpetual depreciation. Had 
 the town sustained the sanctuary at any price, and from no other 
 motives but to keep up the value of its lands, it would have told 
 well on their interests. But the day of their prime has gone by, 
 and a public sentiment is generated that is adverse to that only 
 measure that would cure their calamities. It may be that a single 
 individual of large interest would do well as a worldly calculator 
 to build a sanctuary, and establish a ministry, and institute a Sab- 
 bath. He would thus secure his heirs from ruin and his interest 
 from prolonged and fatal depreciation. The very best sections of 
 Christendom would run precipitately back to heathenism, only 
 break down the house of God. Who but heathen can be expected 
 to set any price on heathen territory, upon habitations which have 
 become infested with a moral plague, and fields over which there 
 blow perpetually the withering and the deadly blasts of a burning 
 desert. And there is fled in the mean time about all that render- 
 ed life valuable. Conjugal fidelity, and parental tenderness, and 
 filial confidence and duty begin to be more scarce and less valued 
 
 " 
 
86 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 
 
 than in Sabbath and sanctuary times. And where are now the fa- 
 mily altar, and the social bible-reading, and the evening fire-side 
 hymn, and the respect for age, and the kind attention to the poor 
 and the houseless j where all the precious endearments of home 1 
 And where the authority to put down iniquity 'I And the whole- 
 some public sentiment to sustain virtuous deportment, and guard 
 individual rights, and cradle into calmness the tumult of riot 1 All 
 these disappear along with respect for the sanctuary and attend- 
 ance upon the ordinances and institutions of religion. It is not in 
 the nature of things, and evidently is not the design of Providence, 
 that these healthful principles shall survive the moment when the 
 bittern and the owl have their home in the old weather-beaten and 
 time-worn sanctuary. And I need not say that all heathen lands 
 are destitute of the public sentiments and the humanizing princi- 
 ples that bless mankind and that lie at the foundation of social 
 happiness. And facts assure us that a territory that has been 
 Christian can run back to heathenism rapidly as time can speed 
 and virtue decline. Hence those who have made up their minds 
 to dispense with gospel institutions must calculate on a diminution 
 of their catalogue of comforts, beyond what any miserable people 
 have presumed, till they had made the awful experiment. CouM 
 the people have known where flourished the seven churches of 
 Asia', could they have dreamed what a desolation would sweep 
 over them, laying waste scores of generations, they would have 
 taken the warning given them, and not have suffered the candle- 
 stick to be removed out of his place. And could any abandoned 
 section of Christendom have known, ere they parted with the gos- 
 pel, how soon all their comforts would flee, they would have made 
 one more dying effort, and would have perished if they must by 
 the horns of the altar. And even now if there could be awakened 
 a pulsation of spiritual life, the rock would rise from the quarry* 
 and the timber come down from the wood, and the sanctuary lift 
 its spire, and the "church-going bell" utter hints of salvation 
 through all that dreary territory of death. Men grow poor by 
 robbing God. There inevitably follows the abandonment of the 
 gospel a train of litigations and bankruptcies, and imprisonments 
 and divisions, which no human power can control. Some solitary 
 families may seem for a time to thrive, may grow wealthy through 
 the vices of the people, or because they had no share in procuring 
 the desolation, and are not included in the ruin. But even these, 
 unless they flee soon from the midst of such a Sodom, will become 
 partakers of her plagues. They will see their children contami- 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 87 
 
 nated, and vile encroachments upon the stillness of their Sabbaths, 
 and the peacefulness of their evenings, and the innocent enjoy- 
 ments of their interest. They must send away their children to 
 be educated, and send out their capital from the desolated territo- 
 ry, or employ it contraband, in distilleries, and grog-shops, and 
 usury, the only institutions that nourish in the absence of the gos- 
 pel ; and then God will curse their estate, and curse their children 
 with it, and their good name, till they and theirs become amalga- 
 mated with the surrounding moral ruins. Thus, when the sanc- 
 tuary is let go, all goes. Men find their counsels turned into fool- 
 ishness, and they pay a tribute to vice twenty times the assess- 
 ments of virtue. Hence, when men imagine themselves unable 
 to bear the expense of divine institutions, they should inquire if 
 they be able to live without them. 
 
 VI. From the house of God are selected the subjects of his grace. 
 
 Those only who frequent the sanctuary are at all likely to be 
 regenerated. We have pronounced it the radiant point of sancti- 
 fying truth. And it is truth, we must not forget, in the lips of a 
 living ministry that God has pledged himself to bless. " By the 
 foolishness of preaching he saves them that believe." When our 
 Lord had commissioned his apostles, to go into all the world and 
 preach the gospel to every creature, he promised, " he that be- 
 lieveth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth 
 not, shall be damned." Thus the gospel that they would carry, and 
 that would sound from their lips, and that of their successors, was 
 to be the grand instrument of salvation. In connection with this 
 divine promise, facts assure us, that when God sends a revival 
 among a people, the subjects of it are generally taken from sanc- 
 tuary-going families : " Sanctify them through thy truth, thy 
 word Jfe truth." If others in such a period come round, and seem 
 interested, and are awakened, still seldom do they make their way 
 to Jesus Christ. More generally you see them, soon as the revival is 
 over, returning back to their Sabbath-breaking and their cups, like 
 " the dog to his vomit, and like the sow that was washed to her wal- 
 lowing in the mire," and we hear not from them till perhaps another 
 revival summons them again to come and gaze upon the moving 
 scene. But those who give evidence of renewed hearts are more 
 generally from the people who have sustained the honors of God's 
 house. In them Christ is found the hope of glory. Hence to the house 
 of God the Church must look for its recruit, and the world for its sa- 
 vour and its light. And when the public worship of God ceases, we 
 
88 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 hear of no revivals, or if we hear of them, we frequently hear that 
 their fruits have perished in some wild and wayward fanaticism. 
 Hence the Church must dwindle and become extinct without the sus- 
 taining influence of the sanctuary. There are at length neither 
 creed, nor covenant, nor communion, nor aught else remaining, but 
 some indistinct recollection that once God had there a people, or 
 perhaps some hoary-headed believers, that once ate the conse- 
 crated bread. 
 
 And what is there worth saving, wiiat tnat God will watch over 
 or care for, where he has no people ; as in the old world when the 
 ark was ready, and in Sodom when Lot was gone 1 The eye of a 
 vigilant Providence sees nothing to occupy it where there is none 
 of his image, nothing but chaff and stubble " Ye are the salt of 
 the earth, ye are the light of the world." Humiliating as the 
 thought may be, none may alter or soften it. " Jacob is the lot 
 of his inheritance." If men are mortified that such is their cha- 
 racter as to sink them below the smile of Heaven, and render 
 them and theirs not worthy to be guarded, they must adjust the 
 concern with God. If they will not build him a house, or if they 
 abandon the place where his honor dwells, they cannot complain 
 if he care not to build them a sure house for ever ; it is only walk- 
 ing frowardly toward them as they have walked frowardly towards 
 him. He will think it right to make every other interest bend to 
 that of his Church, the world willing or not willing, pleased or dis- 
 pleased. " The Lord send the help from the sanctuary." It would 
 be curious to mark the process by which a people lose the blessings 
 of the gospel and bring upon themselves and upon posterity the 
 plagues that have been enumerated. There is usually discovered 
 
 1. A satiety of hearing the word of the Lord. This is indicat- 
 ed by an infrequent attendance upon the sanctuary, by a tardy ap- 
 proach, by a half-day worship, by a dull and drowsy attitude in the 
 house of the Lord, by a neglect of the week-day occasions of 
 hearing the gospel, and by a score of other signs, which say that 
 they are no longer hungry for the word of the Lord. How differ- 
 ent from all this was the spirit of the Psalmist when he sang : 
 " How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts. My soul 
 longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord." Precisely 
 the opposite of all this longing, and fainting, and crying out after 
 the courts of the Lord, is the spirit of supineness and death, that is 
 seen coming over a people on whom God in righteous retribution 
 is about to send a famine of the word. As every movement of 
 the sinking patient is slow, and the pulse feeble and respiration la- 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 89 
 
 borious, and to think or speak a burden, till death at length is seen 
 standing hard by his pillow j so that people who are about to make 
 the experiment of living without the gospel, will be seen, perhaps 
 for years, putting on the symptoms of moral dissolution, till at 
 length there remains no longer the power of action, or the sense of 
 danger, or the hope scarcely of resuscitation and life. And we 
 have noticed 
 
 2. That the spirit of decay esteems the support of gospel insti- 
 tutions a burden. The cost of the sanctuary, and the ministry, 
 and the thousand varied appendages of evangelical worship and 
 ordinances begin to be considered lost. Then comes the inquiry, 
 What am I the gainer by sustaining the gospel 1 How am I 
 drained of the means of accommodating my family with conve- 
 niences ! How many acres of territory might I have purchased 
 with the sums that the gospel has cost me ! How poor have I 
 kept myself and my family by the offerings of the temple ! Could 
 1 have them paid back, the whole would be a fortune for my child- 
 ren ! Thus men grudge the Lord the sacrifices he demands as the 
 very price of their prosperity ; and the children learn how reluc- 
 tantly their parents support religion, and how gladly they would 
 rid themselves of the galling burden. Hence, as soon as their pa- 
 rents are asleep in death, and their property is in their hands, they 
 are all disciplined for the business of pulling down the institutions 
 of heaven, and making the experiment of bartering away the truth 
 for money. Unhappily, all their respect for a parent's judgment 
 goes to establish them in the belief that the gospel does but op- 
 press and impoverish them. Thus the parent dug the grave of his 
 offspring. He incautiously taught them principles that undermine 
 his house and blast his memory. He had not counted up the cost, 
 how the absence of gospel institutions would alter and injure the 
 character of his offspring, how it would neutralize the Sabbath, 
 and remove the means of becoming wise, and break the grapple of 
 conscience, and lessen the worth of morals and the estimate of 
 character, and throw down his children from the elevation they 
 occupied, and his whole posterity from the position they might 
 have held, into the bosom of a besotted, and mean, and miserable 
 community : how, with the removal of the gospel there would 
 vanish all the blessings it brought ; the sweets of domestic inter- 
 course, the bonds of the social compact, the elevation of intellect, 
 all the means of being great and good in this life, and holy and 
 happy in the life to come. Unhappy father, he sprung a mine un- 
 H*r hi* own house that threw his offspring, and his name, and his 
 12 
 
90 THE SANCTUARY. 
 
 estate, to the winds of heaven, while a tithe of his income, paid 
 honestly to the Lord, would have ensured the whole, down, per- 
 haps, to the funeral day of the world. He saved indeed his mo- 
 ney and taught his children to save it, but God took vengeance on 
 his inventions. And there follows of course, 
 
 3. A disrespect for the ministry of the reconciliation. 
 
 That ministry can be useful no longer than respected. When 
 men begin to speak of the office as a mere sinecure, they are not 
 to be expected to derive any great profit from it j and when they 
 treat the men who occupy it with coarseness, they may calculate 
 that they are ruining their offspring. He that Heaven has com- 
 missioned to negotiate with a rebel world, while he may claim no- 
 thing on the score of personal importance or elevation, may still 
 demand that men hold the office, and himself, because of the office, 
 in due respect. And in the absence of this respect there is lost to 
 the world the whole influence of that highest means of its re- 
 demption, a preached gospel,- and what is more, there is laid the 
 train that is to carry moral devastation down through unborn 
 generations. But, 
 
 FINALLY There is one token of approaching desolation so mark- 
 ed in its character as to deserve a distinct and prominent notice. 
 I refer to the case when the people of God feel that they are not 
 obliged to make greater sacrifices than others to sustain the sanc- 
 tuary, and hand down to unborn generations the blessings of the 
 gospel of peace. I consider no one sign so articulate, that God is 
 about to remove the candlestick out of its place. God's people 
 ought to do more than others ; and if the world would come for- 
 ward and act so liberally as to save them the necessity, it would 
 be a curse to them. A Christian can pray better when he is mak- 
 ing great sacrifices for the Lord, and will grow more rapidly in 
 grace and in the knowledge of the truth, God will feed the most 
 plentifully, and smile the most graciously upon the child that 
 serves him the most cheerfully. Christians receive more bless- 
 ings than others through the gospel. In a minor sense, it blesses 
 all, but in a major sense, believers. All learn truth, and receive 
 elevation of character, and enjoy comforts, through the influence 
 of the gospel ; but the believer, through its influence, is sanctified 
 and made meet to be a partaker of the inheritance with the saints 
 in light. The one has temporal and the other temporal and spir- 
 itual blessings. The temporal blessings are worth a thousand 
 times the cost of them to the unsanctified ; hence, by what mea- 
 sure can we calculate their worth to him who hopes to reach hea- 
 
THE SANCTUARY. 91 
 
 ven through them 1 It is for them, as well as for the world, a wise 
 appointment that they shall do more than others. We would not 
 have them exempted if we could. 
 
 Now, when the people of God begin to stand aloof from his 
 sanctuary, and to fear they are bearing an undue burden, and are 
 ready to let it fall, unless others will lift as laboriously as they 
 lift, then you may expect a famine of the truth. When the pro- 
 fessed people of God, who are called by his name, and tell of be- 
 ing bound to him by an everlasting covenant, who profess to have 
 laid up their treasure in heaven, and to look for " a city that hath 
 foundations, whose builder and maker is Godj" when these will 
 shrink from any sacrifice to sustain the gospel of his Son, and suf- 
 fer an institution that prospers all others to fail through their covet- 
 ousness, then who, can it be expected, will stand and prop the 
 sinking honors of God's house ? It is feared we could point you 
 to a great many gloomy sections of this ruined world where this 
 very cause has operated, and is now operating to turn the fruitful 
 field into a wilderness, and render some of the holiest territories 
 in Christendom cheerless and dreary as the very caverns of death. 
 On this point one need not fear to say too much, the professed 
 Christian, who grudges the drafts made upon his purse by the gos- 
 pel, and is ever poor when its claims are presented, is to be classed 
 with Demas and Judas, and to be held up to the world as its great- 
 est foe, and to the Church as its darkest and deepest blot. 
 * How charming is the place 
 
 Where my Redeemer, God, 
 
 Unveils the beauties of his face, 
 
 And sheds his love abroad ! 
 
 Not the fair palaces 
 
 To which the great resort, 
 Are once to be compared with this 
 Where Jesus holds his court ! 
 
 Here, on the mercy-seat, 
 
 With radiant glory crown'd, 
 Our joyful eyes behold him sit, 
 
 And smile on all around. 
 
 To him their prayers and cries 
 
 Each humble soul presents : 
 He listens to their broken sighs 
 
 And grants them all their wants. 
 
 Give me, O Lord, a place 
 
 Within thy blest abode, 
 Among the children of thy grace, 
 
 The servants of my God. 
 
SERMON V. 
 MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 PROVERBS XXVII. 19. 
 
 As in water, face answereth to face ; so the heart of man to man. 
 
 THIS text has received various interpretations; but there is 
 among them one more generally approved by the friends of truth 
 than any other, and which, it would seem to me, is its plain and 
 obvious meaning : As a man looking into the water, (used an- 
 ciently as a mirror,) sees there an exact transcript of his own 
 countenance, so every heart has, by nature, precisely the same 
 moral character with every other unsanctified heart. However 
 men may differ, as to the circumstances of their being as to their 
 age, country r , habits, and education still every child of Adam, till 
 renewed by Divine grace, has, in the view of Omniscience, the 
 same moral aspect. 
 
 Many, who still wish to be considered believers in Divine reve- 
 lation, have asserted, that the parts of Scripture which give unre- 
 generate men a deformed and polluted character are not applicable 
 to men of the present day. When Paul says of the unregenerate 
 world, and quotes the saying from another inspired author, " There 
 is none righteous, no, not one ; there is none that understandeth ; 
 there is none tha-t seeketh after God ; they are all gone out of the 
 way ; they are together become unprofitable ; there is none that 
 doeth good, no, not one ; their throat is an open sepulchre ; with 
 their tongues they have used deceit ; the poison of asps is under 
 their lips ; whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness ; their 
 feet are swift to shed blood : destruction and misery are in their 
 ways ; and the way of peace they have not known ; there is no 
 fear of God before their eyes." When he says all this it is round- 
 ly denied, that in civilized lands lands enlightened and polished 
 there can be found beings of so barbarous a character. It may 
 possibly suit the Turk, the Arab, and the Tartar, and may be adapt- 
 ed to some few outcasts in more favored lands ; but, as a .general 
 description of unregenerate men, it is rejected with proud disdain. 
 
 In this style the Bible has of late been rudely mangled, till 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 93 
 
 many feel themselves quite at liberty to deny the application to 
 themselves of any text that would go to neutralize their creed, or 
 wound their high sense of the dignity of human nature. It is 
 hence considered important to show, 
 
 That men, in all countries and ages, and under every variety of cus- 
 toms and manners, have had, and continue still to have, naturally, the' 
 same moral character. 
 
 This doctrine it will be my object to illustrate. But I shall first 
 notice some of the circumstances which have contributed to make 
 men differ in their conduct, who have by nature the same moral 
 character. 
 
 In the first place, grace has made a wide difference in men who 
 were by nature alike. This has been the case in most countries, 
 and in all ages, since God first set up his Church in the family of 
 Adam. 
 
 In the second place, the difference in the instinctive passions and 
 affections has made men to differ in their conduct. 
 
 In the third place, some have not the talents for doing mischief 
 that others have. This one cause may operate, when there is no 
 other, to produce the greatest difference of conduct, where there 
 is the same temper of heart. 
 
 In the fourth place, some have not the opportunity to do mis- 
 chief that others have. There may be the disposition, and the 
 talents for gigantic iniquity, but opportunity may be wanting. 
 Nero and Julian had the opportunity, while many a wretch during 
 their reign, possessing perhaps equal talents, obtained no celebrity 
 in the service of their infernal master. There are men base 
 enough to burn a world, who will die after having done but little 
 mischief. 
 
 I remark, finally, that one man may achieve less mischief than 
 another, because more restrained. One man is held back from in- 
 iquity by his conscience. In another, pride prevents him from 
 descending to the deeds of sin which he would love to do. In 
 another, interest is the restraining principle. Hence the most 
 decent among all the ungodly, may have a heart that will compare 
 in its every feature, with that of the thief, the robber, and the 
 assassin ; though restrained from their deeds of death. 
 
 Having thus noticed some of the circumstances which have 
 made men to differ in their conduct and appearance, who have by 
 nature the same character of heart, I proceed to illustrate the doc- 
 trine, That men, in all ages, and under every variety of customs 
 
94 MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE, 
 
 and manners, Tiave had, and still continue to have, naturally, the 
 same moral character. 
 
 I. We might infer the truth of this doctrine, prior to any argu- 
 ment, from the similarity of origin, aspect, and general habits, that 
 belong to all ages and all nations of men. All men sprang from 
 the same first parents; in their veins flows the same blood ; they 
 have the same general spirit ; feed on the same food ; and have all 
 naturally the same general habits ; and prior to any extraneous 
 applications, have, as we analogically infer, the same temper of 
 heart. For the same reason that we expect to find the lamb and 
 the dove harmless, and the lion and tiger ferocious, through all 
 their generations, and in all countries where they are found ; we 
 expect man to be, in the temper of his heart, the same in all ages 
 and in all nations. When we have settled the point that the 
 human family are all of 'one species, analogy so far decides the 
 truth of our doctrine, as to cast the burden of proof on those who 
 venture to deny it. But there is on this subject more direct and 
 positive testimony. I would then remark. 
 
 II. That we can hardly fix our eye on any individual or commu- 
 nity of antiquity, but we can find its exact resemblance, in some 
 individual or community with whose character we are familiar. I 
 shall make my selections chiefly from scripture history, and shall 
 notice those whose deportment made it manifest that they were 
 not born of God, or if otherwise, were left to act out their native 
 character. When I look back to the family of Adam, I see in 
 Cain the prototype of many a man born sixty centuries after him. 
 He saw that his brother's offering was more acceptable than his 
 own, became envious, rose from envy to anger, and gave vent to 
 his malice in a deed that rendered him a fugitive and a vagabond. 
 Now who is so ignorant of human nature as not to see in society 
 men of precisely the same description in the present day ; men 
 who covet another's distinctions, and from coveting become mali- 
 cious, and would destroy, if human law did not interfere, the 
 object of their spleen. Every generation "and every country gives 
 birth to just such men, and they are found amid every community, 
 from the highest to the lowest order of men. Witness the whole 
 list of duellists, from the prince who settles his quarrel in style, 
 to the poor kidnapped African who hews to pieces his antagonist 
 with his hoe or his scythe. When their envy does not terminate 
 in blood, it rises often to a horrid pitch of desperation. 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 95 
 
 In the family of Jacob there was seen all that variety of evil 
 disposition witnessed in later families. There was parental par- 
 tiality, and filial impiety ; there was envy, and jealousy, and pride, 
 and revenge, and vanity, and lust, and deceit, and, finally, all the 
 unhallowed passions, that go to poison the harmony of domestic 
 circles in every country. 
 
 In the character of Balaam, the false prophet, who pretended a 
 high regard to the divine authority, and a sacred respect to the 
 decisions of conscience, while yet he loved the wages of unright- 
 eousness, and would gladly have permission of Heaven to curse 
 the Lord's people, we have the features of many an evil mind in 
 the present day. Like him, when they cannot do wrong conscien- 
 tiously, they lay conscience aside, and proceed by the meanest 
 measures to gratify their envy of the Lord's people. Can they 
 bribe Heaven, or force the Bible, or plead the example of the 
 Lord's people, to justify them, they prefer to sin conscientiously, 
 but finally their wrath is too malicious to be restrained by the laws 
 of decency, humanity, or honor. 
 
 Look, if you please, at Shimei, who cursed David in the day of 
 his adversity, and tell me if the present age, and all countries, are 
 not filled with men of precisely the same spirit. While their 
 neighbor is prosperous, has wealth, and power, and influence, they 
 are the merest sycophants ; but when the scale is turned, and they 
 have nothing either to fear or hope for, they can display the mean- 
 est spirit of malevolence. They have souls the most mercenary, 
 and no opinion of their own, till they fall in with some current of 
 public scorn, when, all at once, they seem the most decided of all 
 men. Who has not witnessed, when public sentiment has set in 
 upon some good man, of whom the world was not worthy, what a 
 multitude will then for the first time discover that he is not fit to 
 live. Witness that most noted of all cases when our Lord was 
 arrested, the very multitude, whose blinjl he had made to see, and 
 whose deaf to hear, whose sicknesses he had healed, whose lepers 
 he had cleansed, and whose dead he had raised, could immediately 
 cry out, " Crucify him, crucify him." A few hours previously, his 
 enemies were afraid to arrest him, because his standing was so 
 high in the public estimation. But his character was unaltered. 
 He did not all at once put on that unworthiness that became an 
 excuse for their wrath. He was the same when feeding the mul- 
 titude, as when hanging on the tree. Tell me, if from the time of 
 David down to this day, society has not been thick set with men 
 
96 MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 of precisely the same spirit with that miscreant who cursed the 
 king of Judah in his flight. 
 
 I name Joab, David's chief captain, ambitious, jealous, impudent, 
 profane, revengeful and ask if society is not cursed in the present 
 day with just such men. They will retain their place, and their 
 honors at any expense ; will violate truth, and betray confidence, 
 and direct their stab at reputation and life ; will carry revenge in 
 their bosoms for years, and will finally violate all the laws of 
 righteousness, and cover their souls with indelible guilt to gratify 
 an unbounded ambition. 
 
 Let me name one among that sex where it grieves me to find 
 any fault, the wife of Ahab ; and tell me if every age and king- 
 dom has not had its Jezebels. You remember her as the abettor 
 of falsehood, fraud, oppression, persecution, and crime in every 
 varied form into which unbounded depravity could mould itself. 
 She entailed upon her husband the horrid reputation of having 
 done more to provoke the Lord God of Israel to anger, than all the 
 kings that were before him. Now you have but to divest her of 
 royalty and power, and you will find her likeness in every consi- 
 derable group of the world's present population. She was noisy 
 and impudent, bold and masculine, controlled her husband, guided 
 his measures, made him avenge her quarrels, instigated him to 
 deeds of oppression, hated all that was holy, abused the Lord's 
 prophet, and honored Baal, and finally was eaten of dogs, and went 
 to her own place. Now can it be doubted but that you could find 
 in every district of this world's population many a daughter of 
 depravity, after her own likeness, whom you have only to vest 
 with power and clothe with royalty, and yoke to a weak and 
 wicked prince, and you have another Jezebel, prepared to pollute 
 all that is fair, and blight all that is flourishing in the Israel of 
 Godl 
 
 You may go out of Israel, and survey all nations of all ages, and 
 you will find all that variety of character noticed in Israel, and 
 seen in our day, and our land. You may select the worst man 
 that has lived in any age or kingdom, or the best of all the ungod- 
 ly, and you will trace his resemblance in every period and in every 
 tribe of the human family. We allow that circumstances may 
 favor or retard the growth, and the unbridled exercise of the pas- 
 sions in one nation, or at one period more than another ; but still 
 a general comparison of this world's population, at different peri- 
 ods, will lead invariably to the conclusion that, " as in water face 
 answereth to face, so the heart of man to man," that the revolu- 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN ivATtTRE. 97 
 
 tions of time have yet brought round no golden age, in which there 
 was not displayed the same temper and disposition, and when 
 there were not born men of the same general character. I pro- 
 ceed to a 
 
 III. Argument. There have prevailed in all ages and nations 
 the same crimes, calling for the restraining influence of the same 
 laws. 
 
 Men have been in all times and places inclined to wrong their 
 fellow-men of their property. Hence fraud, theft, robbery, and 
 oppression have been blots in the history of every people who have 
 inhabited the globe. It will not be denied that the immediate de- 
 scendants of Abraham were the most moral and civilized people 
 of their time ; yet these crimes prevailed in Israel. One would 
 steal an ox, or a sheep, and kill it, and this vice must be restrained 
 by the penalty of restoring five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for 
 a sheep. Another would turn his beast into his neighbor's field 
 and cause it to be eaten up ; and must make restitution of the best 
 of his own field. Another would remove his neighbor's land- 
 mark ; in which case there must light a curse upon his head, to 
 which all the people must say, Amen. There were those who vex 
 and oppress the stranger, those who would exact usury, those who 
 would take in pledge a neighbor's raiment, those who would not 
 pay the tithes that God had enjoined, those who would take a 
 bribe, who would follow the multitude to do evil, who would pro- 
 fane the Sabbath, who would bear false witness, who would covet 
 a neighbor's wife, or ox, or field. And all these crimes prevailed, 
 to a still greater degree, among the nations bordering upon Israel, 
 who had not upon them the restraints of God's written law. And 
 who will deny, that these crimes are still common 1 Have we not 
 the usurer, the slanderer, the thief, the oppressor, the profane, the 
 adulterer, and the Sabbath-breaker 1 Have we not in use similar 
 laws to those which curbed to decency, and honesty, and integrity, 
 the family of Abraham 1 What reason have we to assert, that a 
 single statute in the law of Moses went to restrain a crime that 
 has since then become obsolete 1 Hence what reason to believe, 
 that human nature has become better 1 What reason to believe, 
 that the descriptions of depravity which applied to Israel, Babylon, 
 Egypt, Syria, and Sidon, or even to Sodom, will not apply with 
 equal propriety to the men of this land, and of all lands and all 
 generations when circumstances favor the growth and the practice 
 
 13 
 
98 MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 of the same vices 1 " As in water face answereth to face, so the 
 heart of man to man." I draw my 
 
 IV. Argument from the fact, that the Bible has never become 
 obsolete. 
 
 It describes men of other periods, and the description suits the 
 present generation. Some parts of the Bible describe men as they 
 acted three and four thousand years ago ; other parts as they con- 
 ducted eighteen hundred years since ; and it informs us how men 
 will act down to the end of time. Now, sinners in the present 
 day, soon as they gain some knowledge of themselves, find a faith- 
 ful description of their hearts in the same Bible. It proves, 
 wherever there is a spirit of self-application, " a discerner of the 
 thoughts and intents of the heart." We have sometimes seen 
 persons greatly astonished, to find, all at once, that they had in 
 their house a neglected book, that could tell them all the secrets 
 of their hearts. And this circumstance has not unfrequently per- 
 suaded them that the Bible was written by the finger of God. 
 
 But if human nature has gradually become better, as some would 
 pretend to believe ; if the awful descriptions of depravity given us 
 in the Bible would suit only the generations or communities, of 
 whom they were originally given, the book would not seem adapt- 
 ed, as it does, to men as they now feel and conduct. When the 
 unregenerate world shall have become as much better, as it has be- 
 come quite fashionable to believe, the Bible will be no longer 
 adapted to our condition. It will not then be a light to our feet 
 and a lamp to our path. I can believe that the spirit of the divine 
 law will be in force in heaven, but that detail of the law, found in 
 the Bible, and adapted to a race of sinful and polluted men, must go 
 into disuse when there shall be born a race free from entire depra- 
 vity. The Bible was intended to follow men into the labyrinths of 
 vice, and there warn, and admonish, and threaten, and reprove. 
 Hence when men shall not thus run into sin, they will need, and 
 God will inspire them a new Bible. It was intended to block up 
 the way of death, and save men from destroying themselves ; but 
 when men shall no longer love to tread the way to perdition, the 
 Bible will not be the book they will need, and God will recall his 
 word, and give the world other instructions, adapted to their al- 
 tered and better condition. Hence whatever evidence we have 
 that the Bible is still the very book we need, we have equal testi- 
 mony that men are by nature depraved, as they ever were. For 
 if the civil law of Moses would suit well the present generation, 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 99 
 
 though written more than three thousand years since ; and if the 
 Prophecies and the Psalms, written five and seven hundred years 
 later, are descriptive of just such men as we are ; and if the Gos- 
 pels and the Epistles, of still later date, seem adapted to the moral 
 character of the present generation j with what face can men as- 
 sert that their native heart has changed all its character 1 Must 
 not the honest man believe still, that "as in water face answereth 
 to face, so the heart of man V I close with 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. We see one source of those corruptions of doctrine with 
 which the world is filled. Men have determined that human na- 
 ture has grown better, and that men are born now very different 
 beings from the antediluvians, or the Jews, or the Romans, or the 
 whole Gentile world in the time of our Lord. Having settled this 
 point, independently on the divine testimony, they infer that the 
 same Bible will not suit the different ages and nations : that what 
 God would say to the ignorant, barbarous beings that once peopled 
 the world, he would not say to the present enlightened and polish- 
 ed nations of Christendom. Thus one error has conducted to 
 another. They have been led, by the deceitfulness of their hearts, 
 to believe one lie, and then, to be consistent^ must believe another. 
 Had they but correct views of their own hearts, they would be- 
 lieve that the same book, which lashed the consciences of sinners 
 two thousand years ago, is still the best book for us that God could 
 inspire, and that it needs no altering. This 'is the opinion of 
 awakened sinners. When God makes men acquainted with them- 
 selves, the Bible looks them through, as if an omniscient eye was 
 fixed in the centre of every page ; and it needs then no mutilations 
 or amendments. Oh, would those who think they see an inappro- 
 priateness in the Bible doctrines, look once into their own hearts, 
 that look would be a sovereign antidote to their heterodoxy ; and 
 the Bible would soon be found appropriate and precious. They 
 would patiently read its most doleful pages, and trace, with moist- 
 ened eye, its portraits of human depravity ; discovering every fea- 
 ture of themselves in its most darkened lines. In the character of 
 the old world, and of the Sodomites, Paul's description of Gen- 
 tiles, and in the character of Judas, they would see no touch of the 
 divine pencil too dark for a delineation of their own carnal mind. 
 It would rather seem as if the whole had been intended to portray 
 their own likeness, in the fairest colors that truth could use. Their 
 proud brow would gather sadness, their heart would sicken, and 
 
100 MIRROR OP HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 falling down into the dust, they would cover their faces and cry, 
 Unclean ! unclean ! Wo is unto me. 
 
 2. The subject justifies a kind of preaching, as plain and pointed 
 as any thing found in the law of God, or in the communications of 
 Christ and his apostles. Those who have anathematized a discri- 
 minating, bold, and plain exhibition of truth, have all gone upon the 
 mistaken presumption, that men, as the ages have revolved, have 
 gradually bleached their moral character. They have no idea, 
 that were the Lord Jesus to visit the earth again, he would de- 
 nounce us as a sinful and adulterous generation, or address the 
 very worst of men as serpents, and a generation of vipers, hardly 
 escaping the damnation of hell ; he would not now say, " that the 
 whole world lieth in wickedness," and that " except a man be born 
 again he cannot see the kingdom of God j" the ignorant and bar- 
 barous Jews needed to be born again ; as also some of the less civil 
 among the Romans, and a few of the more unlettered among the 
 Grecians ; but the term has no meaning in an enlightened congre- 
 gation in America. 
 
 But all this is false and mischievous. Men have just such hearts 
 as they always had ; and need a gospel as plain and pungent as 
 that preached by the Lord Jesus. The old serpent needs to be 
 dislodged now from his usurped throne and dominion, by the same 
 coarse weapons, if you please to call them such, as were used 
 eighteen hundred years ago. We may dream that we are con- 
 versant with celestial beings ; that our readers are all in a fair 
 way for heaven ; but while we are amusing them, they may, one 
 by one, steal away to their death-bed, and from thence to a bed in 
 hell. And what minister of Christ would not rather make them 
 feel unhappy all the way to perdition, than find at last, that, while 
 he has been preaching a smooth and polished gospel, one soul has 
 been lost for ever through his negligence 1 
 
 Every unregenerate man in this world has, in the view of Hea- 
 ven, the same moral character with those who vexed the righteous 
 soul of Noah, and Lot, and Elijah, and Malachi, and Jesus Christ, 
 and needs to be addressed in the same plain, and pungent, and dis- 
 criminating style. Why should totally depraved men wish any 
 other gospel than that prepared for the totally depraved ? What 
 other gospel can reach their case, and alarm them, and save them 1 
 How cruel, if they do wish it, to amuse them with fair words, and 
 smooth speeches, and thus prevent their hearts from aching, till 
 their destiny is sealed. May the blessed God save his ministers 
 from such deeds of treachery ! 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 101 
 
 No, the world needs just such a gospel as was preached in Je- 
 rusalem, and Rome, and Corinth needs to hear the thunders of the 
 same law that issued from the smoke of Sinai, and to see the vivid 
 flashes that glared upon its summit. Not enough better has the 
 world become to admit the softening down of one accent of those 
 denunciations that fell from the lips of Jesus. And he who thinks 
 otherwise, has only to look around him, and within him, and see 
 how the human heart belches forth its moral corruption, poisoning 
 domestic and social joy, and contaminating every district of this 
 unfortunate and ruined world. Let him attend our courts of jus- 
 tice, and see how men will perjure themselves ; let him read the 
 catalogue of divorces ; let him spend an evening in the grog-shop j 
 let him stop a moment at her door^whose "house is the way to 
 hell ;"* let him enter one of our criminal prisons ; let him pene- 
 trate once into the secrets of his own heart, and stay there till the 
 light is let in j and if he shall then wish any other gospel than the 
 one he has, we will unite. with him in beseeching the Eternal to 
 take back his terrible communications. 
 
 3. The subject furnishes ungodly men the means of knowing 
 their own characters. They have but to read the history of the 
 world, and learn what sort of beings once peopled it, and that his- 
 tory is the mirror in which they can see themselves. We do not 
 say that every two unregenerate men are alike in their exterior ; 
 but we assert, on the testimony of God, that every two unregene- 
 rate hearts have, in the view of God, the same moral character. 
 Hence the most decent of the ungodly 11 may look at the most aban- 
 doned, and learn exactly what themselves would be, were God to 
 remove all restraint. Hence spake our Lord of whited sepulchres, 
 that appeared beautiful indeed without, but within were full of dead 
 men's bones and all uncleanness. And he elsewhere assures us, 
 He that has been angry with his brother without a cause, though 
 he may not have spilt the blood of any man, is a murderer ; and 
 he who has cast a lascivious look, is an adulterer ; and he who 
 has not paid his tithes, has robbed God. Thus Heaven looks at 
 the marrow and the pith of character ; and if men would know 
 themselves, they must be willing to be measured by the same rule. 
 
 4. We argue from this subject, that men must all pass the same 
 second birth to fit them for the kingdom of God. The whited 
 sepulchre, as well as that which is neglected and decayed, needs 
 to be cleansed within, else it remains full of dead men's bones and 
 
 * Prov. vii. 27. 
 
102 MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 
 
 all uncleanness. The best man among all the unregenerated is a 
 great sinner, and must become greatly ashamed, and must hate 
 sin, and must put his trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, or he must be 
 as surely shut out of heaven as the vilest man that breathes. Men, 
 we know, may do different degrees of mischief ; one may draw 
 sin with cords of vanity, and another with a cart-rope ; and still 
 both may, with equal assurance, be pronounced on the way to hell. 
 And in that world, it is not denied, that there may be different de- 
 grees of torment 5 but it is denied, that either the better sinner or 
 the worse can escape perdition, unless he be born again. Hence 
 it becomes every man, honorable or mean, to be inquiring what 
 he must do to be saved. The man who stupidly imagines that 
 any elevation of character raises him above the necessity of re- 
 penting, and of taking a believing grasp of the atonement by Jesus 
 Christ, has mistaken his own character, and is blind to his ap- 
 proaching destiny. He may compass himself about with sparks 
 of his own kindling, and walk in the light of his own fire, but shall 
 have this at the hand of God, that he shall lie down in everlasting 
 sorrow. * Haste, then, ye very best of the ungodly, and be found 
 at a Savior's feet, that ye may have life through his name. If the 
 world esteems you a benefactor, and you can see no fault in your- 
 self, still you must be born again, or die in your sins, and where 
 Christ is, can never come. 
 
 Finally, We see why there need be but one place of destiny in 
 the coming world for all the unregenerate. The little shades of 
 difference that now appear in the ungodly, are too insignificant to 
 mark them out for distinct worlds. When God takes off those 
 restraints that now make unholy men differ, they will be so much 
 alike that none will impeach his justice when he assigns them all 
 the same outer darkness, the same gnawing worm, and the same 
 quenchless fire. He that has stolen his neighbor's property, and 
 died a felon, and he who has concealed the article found in the 
 street, or the mistake made in his favor, or has purposely become 
 a bankrupt, to escape the obligations of honesty, will appear too 
 much alike in the judgment to require any material diversity in 
 their final sentence. The same perdition will suit them both, 
 though one drops down to hell from the gallows, and the other is 
 borne there on a downy bed. The duelist and the assassin, the 
 usurer and the pickpocket, the forsworn and the profane, the wine- 
 bibber and the sot, the fashionable adulterer and the inmate of the 
 brothel, must be seen to differ so little, when God shall tear away 
 the fictitious drapery from the more honorable sinner, that it will 
 
MIRROR OF HUMAN NATURE. 103 
 
 seem no incongruity to place them at last in the same hell. God 
 will consider his law as openly violated, and his authority as egre- 
 giously insulted, by the man who sinned in accordance with pub- 
 lic sentiment, as by the man who did his deeds of depravity in full 
 and open violation of the civilities and customs of human society. 
 Men make wide distinctions where God will make none. Hence 
 the same condemnatory sentence, the sanje prompt execution of 
 it, the same place of punishment, the same duration of misery, and 
 the same total despair, will be the destiny of the patrician and the 
 plebeian transgressor. Does the man die out of Christ, this is 
 enough ; no matter Avhether he was lothed in purple and fine 
 linen, and fared sumptuously every day, or went to perdition a 
 beggar or a slave. It will be the same thing to God ; and for all 
 the millions who repent not, he will build but one hell. Perhaps 
 the meanness and coarseness of his associates may prove at last, 
 to the more accomplished sinner, an ingredient in his cup of mis- 
 ery that shall more than counterbalance the honors and the pride, 
 which, in this life, gave him his fictitious elevation above the vul- 
 gar transgressor. Could I make my puny voice be heard, I would 
 thunder this sentiment through all the ranks of elevated crime, till 
 the highest prince should find his adulterous bed a couch of thorns, 
 till the honorable murderer should feel in his own bosom " the 
 arrows of the Almighty,"* and till the boldest in blasphemy and 
 the meanest in knavery should fear alike the same award, " Depart 
 ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
 angels." 
 
 * Job. vi. 4. 
 
gERMON VI. 
 THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 
 
 MATT. XXI. 37. 
 
 They will reverence my son. 
 
 OUR Lord, in the context, represents the ingratitude and the 
 barrenness of the Jewish church, hy a parable of a vineyard leased 
 for several successive years to unworthy husbandmen, who would 
 not yield the owner any of its fruits ; but treated unmercifully 
 every servant sent to receive them. They " took his servants, 
 and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. But, last 
 of all, he sent unto them his son ; saying, They will reverence my 
 son. But they caught him, and cast him out of the vineyard, and 
 slew him." 
 
 We read, that the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of 
 Israel, and Judah his pleasant plant. He had given them his writ- 
 ten word, and had sent among them his prophets. He had dis- 
 played before them his glory, and had, as it were, surrounded 
 them by a munition of rocks. The early and the latter rains had 
 rendered their lands fertile, and the blessing of God had prospered 
 them, in all that they set their hands to do. Thus Israel was 
 emphatically a vineyard. But when God had a right to expect 
 that the vines he had planted and nourished would bring forth 
 grapes, they brought forth wild grapes. The very people he had 
 chosen, killed his prophets, polluted his worship, and hewed down 
 his altars; and finally imbrued their hands in the blood of his Son. 
 
 Hence the parable, delivered by him who spoke as never man 
 spake, must have had amazing point and force. It aroused their 
 anger, and they would at once have laid hands on him, if they had 
 not feared the multitude. God had a right to expect that they 
 would welcome to their sanctuary the promised Redeemer, and 
 would hail his birth as the pledge of their redemption. But in 
 their cruelties to the Son of God, they acted out the native tem- 
 per of the human heart, and showed themselves to be just such 
 men as lived before and have lived since the period of the Savior's 
 advent. What is said of Israel may be said of men in all ages : 
 
THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 105 
 
 It 'might have been presumed that they would treat kindly the Son of 
 God. 
 
 This doctrine may be established by the following considera- 
 tions : 
 
 I. That men would treat him kindly, might have been justly 
 presumed, by the divinity and glory of his highest nature. He had a 
 divine as well as human nature : he was " God manifest in the 
 flesh." Previous to his coming, it had been as distinctly asserted, 
 that he was divine, as that he would be human. That prediction 
 of him, " To us a child is born, unto us a son is given : and the 
 government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be call- 
 ed Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Fa- 
 ther, the Prince of Peace," had been read by the posterity of 
 Abraham ; and foretold him in his divine and in his human charac- 
 ter. They had reason to expect a Savior, who built the worlds, 
 and who governs the worlds he built. Hence the thought of treat- 
 ing him with contempt was impious like offering direct insult to 
 Jehovah. And he had no sooner appeared, than both his natures 
 became manifest. As man he hungered, while as God he created 
 bread to feed the multitude : as man he thirsted, but as God he 
 converted the water into wine ; as man he could suffer, and bleed, 
 and die, while as God he could make the sufferer whole 5 and even 
 summon the dead from their graves. Thus the accusers, the 
 judges, and the executioners of the Lord Jesus, could have no 
 want of evidence that he was the mighty God. Hence, it might 
 have been presumed, that if he must die, God himself must slay 
 him. He must come to his sepulchre by the immediate hand of 
 Omnipotence. No one would dare to betray hrm, no soldiery 
 would have hardihood enough to arrest him, no miscreant would 
 sit to judge him, no multitude would insult him, none would dare 
 to crucify him. And we should seem to reason correctly in all this, 
 carrying ourselves back to the period before his coming. And 
 still we should reason contrary to matters of fact.- 
 
 We should have said, anterior to his offering himself to men as 
 their Mediator and their friend, that they would all accept his 
 proffered friendship. When God himself offers to save, how can 
 man reject him 1 He who now stretches out his hands to the wretch- 
 ed and the lost of my readers, is the same infinite. Redeemer who 
 called Lazarus from the grave, who fed the multitude, who stilled 
 the waves, who burst the bands of death, and proved his divinity 
 by ascending triumphant on high. Angels, and other beings who 
 14 
 
106 THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 
 
 might know what an offer men would thus have of salvation by 
 Jehovah himself, could not have believed that sinners would treat 
 him as they do ; that from Sabbath to Sabbath they would hear 
 his overtures, and turn their back upon him. They would not 
 have conceived it possible that men, after all he has done, would 
 question his divinity, and rob him of his glory, and persecute his 
 people. 
 
 If God should render himself visible, and stand from Sabbath to 
 Sabbath with pardons in his hands, pressing men to accept forgive- 
 ness and live, the obstinacy of sinners would appear just what it is. 
 For one who is divine does thus stand. He appropriates to him- 
 self all the glories of the Godhead, has the titles, does the works, 
 possesses the attributes, receives the worship, and claims the 
 honors of the Father. He is adored in heaven, under the appella- 
 tion of the Lamb, in every anthem. And still he stands knocking 
 unheeded at the door of the sinner's heart, till his head is wet 
 with the dew, and his locks with the drops of the night ; till we 
 hardly know which is the most surprising, his condescension or 
 the sinner's obstinacy. " They will reverence my son." 
 
 II. It might have been presumed that the Lord Jesus would be 
 kindly treated by men,/ro7 the perfect excellence of his character as 
 a man. There was nothing in him to provoke the anger of good 
 beings. There was neither pride, nor jealousy, nor selfishness, 
 nor passion, nor any of those evil affections that so often involve 
 men in disgraceful broils. He was meek and lowly of mind. He 
 had a character of perfect loveliness. His lips were charged with 
 blessings, and not with curses : " there was no guile found in his 
 mouth." He Idved the souls of men, more than he loved his life* 
 There was nothing in him for men to blame or quarrel with, but 
 every thing that could be desired to draw forth their strongest 
 emotions of gratitude and love. 
 
 Who could conceive of a race of beings so vile, that they would 
 quarrel with an angel j yet angels have no such worth as was 
 found in the Son of God. The prophets had human nature left, and 
 might provoke the rage of their enemies, and tantalize their perse- 
 cutors. They might demand the fruit of the vineyard in a manner, 
 not the most condescending and kind, and might contribute, by 
 their own unwojthy conduct, to fan the fires that were kindling to 
 consume them. And the apostles were men of like passions with 
 those who mocked them, and stoned them. While they demand- 
 ed boldly, and promptly, the fruit of the vineyard, they might, per- 
 
THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 107 
 
 haps, sometimes make the demand rudely. But " they will rever- 
 ence my son." Nothing that was wrong in prophets and apostles 
 was found in him ; and what was wanting in them, was in him. 
 He made every doctrine plain, and every duty clear and obvious. 
 He never pressed the conscience till he had enlightened the un- 
 derstanding, nor used an argument that was not sound and good. 
 His honesty, and integrity, and wisdom, entitled him to the credit 
 and kindness of all men. 
 
 Now, are ungodly men aware, that it is this same kind and good 
 Redeemer, who now offers to conduct them to the abodes of glo- 
 ry, but whose kindness they spurn, and whose love they despise 1 
 Could it have been believed by those who knew him and adored 
 him, that men would thus treat him, as do all the impenitent 1 
 " They will reverence my son." 
 
 III. It might have been presumed, that men would treat kindly 
 the Lord Jesus,/ro;re the reasonableness of his claims. He came not 
 to reap where he had not sown, or gather where he had not 
 strewed. He came not to demand allegiance when another had a 
 better right to the sceptre than himself; he came not to a world 
 that had another for its creator, its benefactor, and redeemer. He 
 is emphatically represented as having come " to his own, but his 
 own received him not." This world belongs to the Lord Jesus, 
 from its foundation to its topstone. To him pertain the wisdom 
 of having planned it, the glory of having built it, the right to 
 govern it, and the authority to judge it. All creatures in him live, 
 and move, and have their being. Hence he has a right to our 
 services, independently on his redeeming right. The breath he 
 gives he may require to utter itself in praise ; the arm he nerves 
 he may tax with duty ; and the eye he enlightens he may reason- 
 ably expect to regard him with perpetual complacency. 
 
 And when we take into account the ransom price he paid, his 
 own blood, by which he purchased anew the world that was his 
 before, his claim to us and ours is too manifest to be disputed. 
 " He gave himself a ransom for us, that he might redeem us from 
 all iniquity, and purify to himself a peculiar people zealous of good 
 works." In demanding our hearts, then, he demands what is his 
 by a double right ; the right of creation and of purchase. We 
 owe to him all we have, and all we are, and all we hope for. We 
 can adore no other sovereign without treason against him, and 
 serve no other master without robbery. All the angels of God 
 are directed to worship him ; and if angels, who are his by feebler 
 
108 THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 
 
 ties, must pay him supreme respect, then his right to us, and his 
 property in us, none but devils, surely, can have the audacity to 
 question. Hence, from the justness of his claims, it might have 
 heen presumed that men would treat well the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The vineyard and all its fruits are his. 
 
 IV. It might have been presumed that men would treat well the 
 Lord Jesus Christ from the condescending kindness of his intentions. 
 He stood in no need of us. He would have had an empire large 
 enough to be the organ of his praise, if we had perished. " The 
 chariots of GOD are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels." 
 And if men had been passed by, and not redeemed, he would, no 
 doubt, have drawn out to view, in some other way, his mercy and 
 his wisdom, which now display themselves in the economy of re- 
 demption. He might have redeemed, for aught we know, the lost 
 angels ; or might have displayed redemption among the population 
 of some other forlorn and ruined world, or might have revealed 
 his gracious character to us, as he has his eternity, through the 
 word of inspiration. Christ was not dependent on us either for the 
 stability of his throne, or the promulgation of his glory, or the feli- 
 city of his being. No motive brought him to our world but pure 
 benevolence. He " so loved the world" that he gave himself as 
 its ransom. Its miseries moved his pity, and he stooped to help 
 us. He would not have come, had he not been kind and gracious. 
 True, he showed a special regard to the law ; would have it 
 honored ; would not allow one jot or tittle of it to fail ; and hence 
 he may be viewed as having come " to establish the law ;" but it 
 must, be remembered, that the law might have been honored in its 
 execution upon the guilty ; so that, independently on the idea of 
 saving sinners, there was no need of the death of Christ, in order 
 to honor the law. Hence his errand into our world was emphati- 
 cally an errand of love. " God so loved the world, that he gave 
 his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life." The love of Christ was the ba- 
 sis of the covenant of redemption. It led him to lay aside his 
 glory, and cover himself, with a veil of flesh, and become " ac- 
 quainted with grief." " Though he was rich, yet for our sakes he 
 became poor, that we, through his poverty, might be rich." He 
 who built all worlds, condescended to say of himself, " The foxes 
 have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of 
 man hath not where to lay his head." Thus, " by grace are we 
 saved." 
 
THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. 109 
 
 Now, it might have been presumed that the Lord Jesus Christ 
 on an errand so benevolent would have been treated well. His 
 design was too kind to deserve any other than the kindest and 
 most prompt reception. Had he gone to devils instead of men, it 
 would seem impossible but they must have received him kindly, 
 when on such an errand, with such heavenly designs. The very 
 pit, it would seem, must have echoed with his praise. Hence, if 
 men have a better character, as they boast they have, ask them 
 how they receive the message of divine mercy. Does the Lord 
 Jesus possess the throne of your heart 1 Is he the sovereign ob- 
 ject of your fear, your love, your hope, and your worship 1 If 
 not, then cast from you that exalted opinion of yourself, which 
 raises you a single degree above the tenants of the pit. 
 
 V. It might have been presumed, that men would treat well the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, from his known ability to save. Had he come in 
 such weakness as would have rendered the enterprise doubtful on 
 which he had entered, there might have been a temptation to des- 
 pise him. Had he failed in making the atonement, or been unable 
 to change the heart, or proved inadequate to the work of leading 
 on his people to victory and glory, after he had enlisted them, then 
 had he brought all the measures of his mercy into contempt, and 
 angels would have refused to do him homage. But he was able to 
 do all. He had but to lay down a life which none could take from 
 him, and the price of our redemption was paid. He had but to 
 speak the word, and the veriest rebel bowed to his mandate. And 
 he has always with consummate skill, led on the sacramental hosts 
 of his elect to the abodes of paradise. Hence, he is said to have 
 " trodden the wine-press alone j" he is represented as " travelling 
 in the greatness of his strength ;" is said to " gird his sword upon 
 his thigh ;" and to " ride forth conquering and to conquer." 
 
 Now, we needed just such a Kedeemer : one who was " mighty 
 to save.". We were in a condition too forlorn to be redeemed by 
 any other than an almighty Savior. Hence, when such a Savior 
 was offered, how could men do otherwise than kindly receive and 
 joyfully embrace him 1 How could he fail to gain their confidence 
 and love, and be chosen Captain of their salvation, their Lord, and 
 their king! " They will reverence my son." 
 
 VI. This might have been presumed,/rom his ability to destroy, as 
 well as to save. The Savior comes, it is true, with an offer of mer- 
 cy ; but he comes, too, clothed with all the authority of the God- 
 
110 THE SOU OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED 
 
 head. He will one day say, as in the parable, " These, mine ene- 
 mies, who would not that I should reign over them, bring them 
 hither, and slay them before me." The offers he makes to sinners 
 they cannot with impunity reject. A blessing offered us by our 
 fellow-men may be received or not, as we please, and, if rejected, 
 there accrues no guilt : not so the offer of mercy by Jesus Christ. 
 He comes to demand our hearts as his throne ; and will bless us 
 if we receive him ; but we are cursed if we reject him. 
 
 And the sinner, it would seem, must know that he is strong to 
 destroy. He hurled the rebel angels from heaven, and fastened 
 them in chains under darkness till the judgment of the great day. 
 He drowned a world, when it would not have him to reign over it. 
 And all his foes he has sent to a hopeless perdition, as fast as they 
 have evinced themselves incorrigibly wicked. Kind as are now 
 his overtures, and extensive his promises, and prolonged his endu- 
 rance, still, if you remain impenitent, he must stain his raiment 
 with your blood. His eyes will be as flames of fire ; and 
 out of his mouth will go a sharp sword to smite the ungodly ; and 
 on his vesture and on his thigh will be seen written, " King of 
 kings and Lord of lords." How tremendous the thought, that the 
 very Lord Jesus, at whose feet so many sinners have found par- 
 don, will rise upon the finally incorrigible in all the greatness of 
 his strength, and " tread them in his anger, and trample them in 
 his fury !" To such a Prince, how fair the presumption, that 
 every knee would bow and every tongue confess. 
 
 FINALLY, it might have been presumed that sinners would treat 
 kindly the Lord Jesus, from their necessities. He found them 
 " wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." He 
 passed by, and saw them as an infant u cast out into the open 
 field," in the day that it was born. We had fallen under the 
 curse of the broken law had neither righteousness, nor holiness, 
 nor happiness, nor hope. There was nothing for us but misery 
 now, and " a fearful looking for of judgment, and fiery indignation, 
 that must devour the adversary." Thus, our necessities put us in 
 need of a friend an almighty friend one that could pity and help 
 the most miserable. Could it, then, have been presumed, that, 
 should such a friend offer his aid, beings so lost and miserable 
 could reject him ! ! 
 
 One could sooner conceive that a beggar would spurn the plen- 
 ty and the pleasures of a palace, and choose to lodge in the 
 street ; or that the blind would choose to grope their way to the 
 
THE SON OF GOD MUST BE REVERENCED. Ill 
 
 grave, when they might have vision j or that a dying man would 
 refuse the touch that might give him life and health. 
 I close with three 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. The sinner's final ruin is unnecessary. All the purposes of 
 his personal perdition may now be answered in the Savior. The 
 law can be honored, and God honored, and he escape damnation. 
 All the purity of the precepts, and all the attributes of the God- 
 head, are displayed in the Lord Jesus Christ, far more amply than 
 in the volume of " smoke that ascendeth up for ever and ever." 
 O yes ; the cross, that everlasting monument of a dying Savior, 
 reveals the Deity far more intelligibly than the " everlasting fire." 
 Hence, the sinner is lost, not because of any necessity for his 
 ruin ; not because of any doom that chained him down to death ; 
 not because his salvation was impossible ; not because heaven 
 could devise no other expedient for securing the divine veracity ; 
 not because of anything we can think of but that he " chose 
 darkness rather than light" and " death rather than life." Hence, 
 
 2. His ruin will be self-induced. By this, I do not mean merely 
 that he is a voluntary agent in breaking the divine law. This sin 
 always implies. I intend more than this. The sinner puts forth 
 his hand, and thrusts from him the charter of forgiveness. He 
 might have had life after he was condemned ; after his death-war- 
 rant was written and sealed j after the pit had been prepared to 
 receive him. Nay, when hell itself was begun in his bosom, and 
 the divine anger was consuming him even then eternal life was 
 possible, but he " chose death !" Hence, 
 
 Finally, his ruin will be wanton. He will be viewed for ever as 
 having sported with his soul ; as if it had been a pearl, and he had 
 run with it to the mouth of a pit, and cast it in j or as if it had 
 been a combustible world, and he with a torch had set it on fire. 
 He employed himself in scattering fire-brands, arrows, and death, 
 and still professed himself to be in sport. The man who plunges 
 the knife into his own heart, does not more wantonly die, than 
 the sinner is wantonly damned. Oh, how affecting, that hell 
 should be thus peopled by a world of suicides, who dared the 
 vengeance, and tantalized the compassion, and despised the for- 
 bearance of the Eternal ! It might reasonably have been presum- 
 ed, " They will reverence my son." But no ! insulted Jehovah ! 
 they pour indignity upon his name and his cross, despise his mes- 
 sengers, and " perish in their sins," rather than do him homage, 
 arid humbly seek redemption through his blood. 
 
SERMON VII. 
 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 ISAIAH XL. 30, 31. 
 
 Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: but they that 
 wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they 
 shall run, and not be weary ; and they shall walk and not faint. 
 
 THE sentiment is often entertained, that religion is suited only 
 for the weak, the aged, and the infirm 5 but is quite useless, if not 
 injurious, to the young, healthful, and prosperous. When we 
 have yielded all the respect we can to men who advance this sen- 
 timent, we must still pity their delusion. It can never be said that 
 piety injures the young man. He may cultivate in connection 
 with it all the amiable properties of human nature. May be mild 
 and affable ; may be decent and ardent ; modest and courageous. 
 These lovely and noble qualities religion does not eradicate, but 
 cherish. Can it cast a shade of deformity over them, to add the 
 love and fear of God, who is supremely amiable 1 Are men so 
 hostile to their Maker, that respect for him, and obedience to him, 
 must make a wound incurable in one's reputation 1 Then must it 
 be acknowledged, that this is indeed a fallen world. 
 
 Is it feared that religion in the young man will cramp his genius, 
 and stop the march of intellect 1 It would be strange indeed, if a 
 taste for the noblest of all sciences, the knowledge of God and his 
 truth, should narrow the mind, and limit the flight of genius. 
 Such a result would contradict all experience, and give the lie to 
 the first principles of mental science. 
 
 Is it feared that piety will wither and paralyze the native fear- 
 lessness of youth, and render tame and cowardly the man whose 
 courage and daring might have astonished the world 1 Does then 
 the love of God, the very principle that makes alliance with the 
 hosts of heaven, and with God himself, dimmish our courage, and 
 make us fly "when no man pursuethl" We should expect it to 
 be far otherwise, and should look for a bravery that no danger 
 could daunt, when there is for our defence a host of angels, and 
 One "higher than the highest." The Psalmist reasoned thus, and 
 said, " The Lor*d is my strength, of whom shall I be afraid 1" And 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 113 
 
 Paul said, " I can do all things through Christ which strengthened 
 me." 
 
 What is it, then, that in the esteem of the ungodly, renders re- 
 ligion so uncomely in the young man 1 Where does it fix defor- 
 mity 1 True, it does render him less covetous of this world's 
 goods, and less ambitious of its honors, less daring in its deeds 
 of darkness, less deceitful, and less intriguing. But is he the less 
 a man and deserving of less esteem 1 In such a suggestion there 
 is an infidelity too bare-faced to be hidden. The amount of it is, 
 that piety implies the fear of God ; and this is, to the ungodly, the 
 most offensive of all attributes. 
 
 The text will lead us to look at the two characters the youth 
 who sets out to press his way through life and death by the dint 
 of native courage, and the one who waits on the Lord, and thus 
 gathers strength from heaven to bear him on to victory and glory. 
 
 I would here premise, that this *is a stormy life. Upon every 
 man, more or less, the tempests will beat. Be his character godly 
 or ungodly, he will have foes, and meet dangers, and suffer hard- 
 ships, and feel afflictions, and will say, before he gets through, 
 that he is passing a desert world. Now we must encounter the 
 calamities of life by native prowess, or by the courage of piety : 
 Which will aid us the best 1 This is the question which I wish 
 may be pondered with solemnity for a few moments. 
 
 / shall mention some of the storms of life, that we shall all be sure 
 to meet ; and inquire, as I pass on, which has the safest defence the 
 mere man of the world, or the man of piety. 
 
 I. We shall all probably part with beloved friends. The ties 
 tjiat bind them to us are slender, the sport of every wind that 
 blows, and every dew that falls. They are ours only by loan, and 
 must be resigned. We may have warnings of their departure, or 
 may have none. They may be torn from us at the moment of our 
 highest attachment when our life is bound up in theirs when it 
 shall seem to us that we have nothing to stay for, if they must leave 
 us. This calamity will certainly come, alike upon the good man 
 and the unbeliever. Which will sustain it best 1 They stand to- 
 gether by the death-bed of a mother, a father, a sister, a brother : 
 they have the same instinctive passions ; they both feel the stroke, 
 and must try to outlive it. But by what principles shall they brace 
 their minds against the storm 1 
 
 The unbeliever may hope to forget his sorrow, or find some 
 other friend as good, or draw from something else, the comfort he 
 15 
 
114 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 has enjoyed in his dying friend. But all this is a distant and un- 
 certain relief. He will find it difficult to forget his friend, and he 
 dare not wish to, and months, or even years, must elapse before 
 he can hope to. Nor will he find it easy to supply the place of 
 his friend. Such friends do not rain down from heaven, do not 
 spring up from the ground, cannot be bought. A mother, for in- 
 stance, who can supply her place 1 Who, like her, will wear out 
 her nature to serve you, and watch by your sick bed, and feel 
 every pang, and wipe away your tears 1 What friend will become 
 dear to you as your brother, and suffer to befriend you, and endure 
 any thing but death to save you 1 I know " there is a friend that 
 sticketh closer than a brother ;" but he is the friend o-f the god- 
 ly, not yours. And you will find it difficult, if you have lost a 
 friend, to secure the same amount of enjoyment elsewhere. 
 Friends are our choicest blessings. Wealth is trash, and fame is 
 air ; but a friend, in this cold-hearted world, is a precious pearl. 
 See then how distant and doubtful is the consolation of the un- 
 godly. 
 
 Take some of the still nearer and dearer friends, and the case 
 is more hopeless still. The mother must see her child taken into 
 the cold embrace of death. And she tries, does shel to live 
 through it without divine support. Now where and when will she 
 find one, who will call her mother, and feel her pains, and watch 
 her tears, and sooth her miseries 1 Oh, I hear her say, unless she 
 has still another son, " My gray hairs will come down with sorrow 
 to the grave. I shall go weeping to the sepulchre for my son." 
 
 Or the dying friend is a wife. Go now, and find, if you can, 
 one who will be a mother to your children. Try if you can for- 
 get her endearments. Try if you can find in any other object th% 
 amount of joy you had in her. Oh, how the agonies of the ungod- 
 ly wring pity from our hearts. This is the onset when "the 
 youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly 
 fall." No native vigor can enable one to brow-beat a siorm like 
 this, and not be, in the result, a hopeless and desponding sufferer. 
 The heart loses its courage, soon as it enters the conflict. No 
 cold philosophy can reason down affection, or mitigate- the agonies 
 of separation. And the poor surviver, if an unbeliever, can only 
 " lie down in sorrow." 
 
 But not so the Christian, who waits upon the Lord. He has in 
 heaven a better Friend than he has lost, and can smile at the 
 ravages of death, as hurting only some of his minor interests. He 
 can immediately transfer the affection he fixed upon his friend to 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 115 
 
 God ; and reap, in an hour, a return infinitely better than any fruits 
 of earthly friendship. He holds all his living friends as the loan 
 of Heaven, ready to be transferred to their original Proprietor. 
 And in the hour of trial his soul utters with deep sincerity, " The 
 Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name 
 of the Lord." He has not to wait till he can forget his friend, or 
 find another, or procure a substitute. He " waits upon the Lord," 
 and is thus strengthened for the hour, and becomes happy in the 
 midst of tears. He passes through the waters, but God is with 
 him ; and through the floods, but they do not overflow him. He 
 walks through the fire, but is not burned, neither does the flame 
 kindle upon him. His song is, " The Lord liveth ; and blessed be 
 my Rock ; and let the God of my salvation be exalted.", He never 
 calculated on any very durable good from earthly things, as does 
 the unrenewed man. Hence he is not disappointed. His best 
 hopes are not cut off, nor his richest prospects darkened. God 
 has been as good to him as his promises, and better than his own 
 fears. His trials will soon end in heaven. There he will join a 
 circle of friends to whom he has been long more attached than to 
 any other. Thus he mounts as on eagles' wings, scales the very 
 heavens, runs and is not weary, walks and is not faint. 
 
 At how many funerals have we witnessed this wide contrast be- 
 tween the native prowess of a mind unsanctified, and the fortitude 
 of a man of God strengthened for the trial by the light of his 
 countenance. 
 
 Come, then, my young friends, let me assure you, how only you 
 can be happy in the hour of bereavement. You may suppress your 
 tears when you attend the funeral of your mother, or your brother, 
 but nature will feel. You may put on the stoic, but the heart will 
 bleed. You may try to cheer your spirits, but your strength will 
 fail, unless God, in that hour, is your refuge, your very present 
 help. If you intend to live without him, you need hope for no- 
 thing but that his waves and his billows will often come over you, 
 while there will be no comforter. You have twenty dear friends, 
 and one may die each year, these twenty years ; and ere then you 
 may die yourself. Thus the heart will bleed, and you will be cov- 
 ered with the weeds of death all the way to the sepulchre. I 
 should not choose to be one of your friends, unless I could believe 
 that you would think of me when I was gone one year j that my 
 funeral solemnities would create a cloud, that would cast its shade 
 upon you till the sun had performed at least one annual revolution. 
 Let each friend make the same demand, and you have no divine 
 
116 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 support under your bereavements, and you readily see that the 
 whole of life is a cloudy and dark day. 
 
 I have noticed yet the loss of friends by death only 5 but we may 
 lose them more tremendously by desertion. Let the hour come 
 when it shall not be popular to be your friend, and when many 
 who have sought your acquaintance, and received your hospitality, 
 and waited to know and do your pleasure, shall hide their face 
 from you j then is the hour when " the youths shall faint and be 
 weary, and the young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait 
 upon the Lord shall renew their strength j they shall mount up 
 with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be weary, and they 
 shall walk and not faint." I know there is a buoyancy in the hu- 
 man heart, % that may seem for a moment to sustain you. You can 
 despise the man whose sycophancy deceived you, but who was 
 never your friend, and has now only uncovered to you the rotten- 
 ness of his heart. You can resolve to despise the men who are 
 the friends of your prosperity, but not of your adversity ; and they 
 deserve to be despised : but you will feel a pain dart through you 
 in that hour, which you must sustain, either by your native prow- 
 ess or by a higher courage. Would you trust in an arm of flesh 1 
 Ah ! but this arm fails you ; and then, where will you lean 1 Now, 
 the good man has no misgivings in such an hour. With him it is 
 a living maxim, " it 'is a very small thing that I should be judged 
 of you, or of man's judgment ; but he that judgeth me is the Lord." 
 Paul could keep up all his courage while in the midst of a people 
 who not long before would have plucked out their eyes and given 
 them to him, but were now become his enemies because he told 
 them the truth. And the Lord Jesus Christ, who had all the ten- 
 derness of our nature, could, without despair, hear the cry, " Cru- 
 cify him ! crucify him ! " uttered by that same multitude whose 
 blind he had made to see, whose lame to walk, whose lepers he 
 had cleansed, whose sick he had healed, and whose dead he had 
 raised. All this one can easily sustain who has an almighty friend 
 in heaven. He can pour a holy contempt upon the wavering men 
 who have no principle, and will desert him when he needs thek 
 friendship most. He can stand erect, because God is with him. 
 But how can you stand, who have no such friend, but whose whole 
 kindred are in this deceitful world 1 Here is the spot where 
 it will again happen that " the youths shall faint and be weary, and 
 the young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait upon the Lord 
 shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as 
 eagles ; they shall run and not be weary ; and they shall walk and 
 not faint." 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 117 
 
 II. Amid the changes of this ill-fated world we shall all be liable 
 to suffer the loss of property. No treasure but that which is laid 
 up in heaven is secure : our houses may burn down over our heads ; 
 our streams may fail ; a foe may rob us of our rights j we may be 
 called to spend all we have upon physicians 5 we may lose our 
 spirit of enterprise ; our reason may desert us. All the good 
 things of this life are ready to take wings and fly away. 
 
 Now, can the man who has no treasure in heaven sustain his 
 spirit, as can the man of faith and of prayer 1 By what consider- 
 ation can he comfort his soul, when ye shall have taken away his 
 gods 1 When he is robbed of his best treasures, of all he has in 
 the life that now is, while he has nothing in the life to come, how 
 can he fail to sink 1 Says the sacred penman, " Their rock is not 
 as our Rock, our enemies themselves being judges." He who has 
 no interest in that house not made with hands, eternal in the hea- 
 vens, how can he part with his temporal habitation ? He who has 
 no treasure which moth and rust cannot corrupt, how can he part 
 with his corruptible riches 1 He who has no greatness or glory 
 in the kingdom of God, how Can he dispense with that which ren- 
 ders him great in the present world 1 Made once poor for time, 
 how can he hope for any thing else but eternal bankruptcy ! If he 
 should hope to rise again, still this is " a hope deferred which mak- 
 eth the heart sick." If he try to be great in his poverty, still, in 
 a world like this, he will find it difficult, not to say impossible. If 
 he would try to be happy, while yet he is small, here pride erects 
 an insurmountable barrier. He lacks all the means of being happy. 
 The good he values, his only good, is gone. The heaven he built 
 for himself had no foundation, and the storms have swept it away. 
 Poor soul, how completely is he made a bankrupt and a beggar ! 
 and how impossible that he should retrieve his circumstances, till 
 he is altered essentially in his disposition and character ! 
 
 But things are not thus desperate with the good man when he 
 finds his estate diminished. We read of those who "took joyfully 
 the spoiling of their goods, knowing in themselves that they had 
 in heaven a better and an enduring substance." The friends of 
 God have laid up for themselves " treasures in heaven, where nei- 
 ther moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break 
 through nor steal." They have provided themselves with " gar- 
 ments that wax not old," and have " a house not built with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens." In the midst of losses they often see that 
 the'riches they have parted with stood between, them and God, 
 and made them less happy and less holy than they may be with- 
 
118 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 out them. They held the heart divided, and kept it cold, and 
 worldly, and selfish, and sordid. Now the clog is removed, and 
 they can mount up as on the wings of eagles. They have now 
 nothing but heaven to care for ; what they have lost they could have 
 used but a little while, and they can mount higher without it. 
 They still have all that God ever promised ; their bread and their 
 water is made sure. If they can never be rich here, still they can . 
 hope for durable riches and righteousness in the life to come. If 
 they must toil hard, still their rest will at last be long and sweet. 
 If they must be small and unnoticed, still there awaits them " a 
 crown of glory " in the life to come. Thus, how evident that no 
 native prowess can enable one to conflict with the storms of life 
 like the grace of God. 
 
 III. But let us try the prowess of the two champions in another 
 conflict. While one storm shall beat upon friendship, and another . 
 upon property, another still may make its assault upon character. 
 This you know is valuable as life. " A good name is better than 
 precious ointment." Being depraved, we are vulnerable at every 
 point. " There is no man that liveth and doeth good and sinneth 
 not." We .break the laws of God and of man ; we violate the dic- 
 tates of conscience, and the rules of righteousness ; and that man 
 knows nothing of himself, that does not acknowledge all this, 
 hence we become justly exposed. Men can injure us, and say the 
 truth. 
 
 But what is more yet, the utmost uprightness of character does 
 not secure from the attack of slander. If men cannot find enough 
 that is true, they can unblushingly fabricate the rest. And no 
 man, godly or ungodly, is wholly secure. The godly are fore- 
 warned, that as men have called the Master of the house of Beel- 
 zebub, so much rather will they calumniate the household. And 
 now, which, think you, will be the best support through this storm, 
 native prowess, or supernatural grace 1 You have known the un- 
 godly man to be slandered. Men have accused him of deeds he 
 never did, have wronged him, and abused him. And he set him- 
 self to oppose the tempest. He cursed his accusers, and returned 
 every blow they dealt, and raved at the foe, and sinned more 
 grossly than he ever had before. He plotted revenge, and pursued 
 it, and perhaps obtained it. But after all was done, was he not 
 rather the vanquished "than the conqueror 1 Did he stand on more 
 elevated ground when he quit, than when he began the conflict 1 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 119 
 
 Ah, he overcame the evil with evil, and sunk the deeper by his at- 
 tempts to rise. 
 
 Let us view the most favorable case. The man abused is un- 
 godly, but has the properties that constitute an amiable man. He 
 meets the assault with all the calmness and all the patience he can 
 command. He reasons, "If they destroy my reputation, they take 
 my interest too, and then what have I left." Having no sense of 
 sin, he is not humble, and will not be very patient. He will not 
 exercise a spirit of forgiveness, nor a spirit of meekness, nor see 
 the wisdom of God in the appointment, nor hope for an augmenta- 
 tion of his enjoyments as the final result. Hence he must be un- 
 happy and must be a loser. His courage may in a sense sustain 
 him, but while he stands he will still be wounded, and perhaps de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 Now the man of God in such a conflict has a heavenly armor. 
 In the very onset he takes the shield of faith. He is patient, be- 
 cause he sees it to be the hand of God. He is calm from the con- 
 viction, that, dark as the storm may lower, he is safe. If his cha- 
 racter should be injured, it only assimilates his condition to that 
 of his divine Lord. He has that sense of sin that renders him 
 humble. He exercises a spirit of meekness and of forgiveness, and 
 this renders him happy. In the event, as a divine appointment, he 
 sees the wisdom of God, and hopes and believes that in the issue 
 God will be glorified, and his own best good promoted. " To 
 me," he can say with the apostle, " it is a very light thing that I 
 should be judged of you, or of man's judgment." Can he only 
 hope to stand approved in the last great day, all decisions of falli- 
 ble men to the contrary, have not, with him, the weight of a 
 feather. 
 
 Would an angel care, if the whole population of this world 
 should assemble in a mass, and pronounce him a sinner or a fool ! 
 He would know that he might still hold the same standing in the 
 sight of God. So the man of faith can soar and act the angel in 
 the hour of onset. He does not, and dares not depend on any na- 
 tive strength of his own, " but waits upon the Lord, and renews 
 his strength." 
 
 IV. We are all liable to disease and death. God has not ex- 
 empted his people, and certainly not his enemies, from this cala- 
 mity. Disease and death are the wages of sin. And here it often 
 happens literally, that " even the youths are faint and weary." We 
 have seen nature struggling with disease even in the very morn- 
 
120 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 ing of life. The young man, strong and vigorous to-day, panting 
 for breath to-morrow, and in a few days sinking into an untimely 
 sepulchre. 
 
 Now the man who hopes to meet all this by native courage, it 
 would seem must be destitute of the power of reasoning. The 
 very nature of the calamity augurs that he will have neither 
 strength nor courage to bear it. It is the very first effect of dis- 
 ease to render faint and weary to dishearten and unnerve. The 
 veriest Goliath is a child, when he wrestles with the plague or the 
 pestilence. How then can he stand in the contest 1 
 
 The mind is enfeebled with the body : hence he cannot reason 
 down his alarms and his apprehensions; cannot sustain his own 
 sinking spirits. He who a few days since would not have feared 
 to meet single-handed the hardiest foe that might take the field, 
 cannot now raise his head, and is in fear, where no danger is. He 
 may have some consolation from the hope of recovery. But this 
 one hope, tremulous and often forlorn, is the only stay of his soul 
 that remains. If he must die, he is lost for ever. 
 
 But here the man of God does not thus sink and perish. He is 
 conscious that he deserves the chastisement ; hence has no quarrel 
 with the power that afflicts. He submits and is calm. He has the 
 promise that God will sustain him, will be with him in six troubles* 
 and in seven will not forsake him. " When flesh and heart fail 
 him, God will be the strength of his heart and his portion for ever, 
 all things shall work together for good to them that love God ;" 
 and these promises were all made with design to be fulfilled. 
 Hence the good man, when he suffers, can leave himself with God. 
 Every care and every interest he rolls over upon his generous and 
 almighty Supporter. To him " to live is Christ, and to die is 
 gain." He can cheerfully wait his "appointed time," and can 
 hope that there is laid up for him "a crown of life that fadeth 
 not." 
 
 But what is over and above all this, he enjoys the smiles of God. 
 These lighten his pains and give him joy and peace. Hence sung 
 the weeping poet, 
 
 " The chamber where the good man meets his fate, 
 Is privileged beyond the common walk 
 Of virtuous life, quite on the verge of heaven." 
 
 On the very dying-bed have we heard the triumphant song, " I 
 mount, I fly." Infidelity may declare all this visionary ; but it is 
 none the less a reality. It is what God has promised, what his 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 121 
 
 people expect, what the diseased and the dying have told us they 
 enjoyed, and is no more incredible than the new birth, at which 
 the ruler of the Jews marvelled. 
 
 Now take from the mass of the ungodly the sturdiest youth you 
 can name, and let him go to his chamber and grapple with disease 
 and death j and place in the adjoining chamber the man of prayer, 
 in precisely the same distressing attitude ; and tell me which shall 
 have the palm. The one shall use all his native mind and muscle, 
 shall brace himself against the paroxysms of disease, and cheer up 
 his spirits, and resist the fear of death, and to the full extent of 
 his power, stay his false hope, and wake up his courage. His 
 brave associates shall come round him and ply their sophistry to 
 put down his pains, and put out the eye of conscience, and hide 
 hell from him, and God from him, and his own history from him. 
 And no Bible shall be near him, nor pastor near him, nor prayers 
 be offered. He shall have through the whole conflict all the help 
 that earth and hell can give him. The other shall but make use 
 of prayer and faith, shall stay himself upon his Eedeemer, and 
 encourage himself in the Lord his God, and cast the anchor of his 
 hope within the veil. Now tell me which of the two will triumph 
 in the storm. Ah ! I see the strong one bow. Ye that hate the 
 Lord, let me assure you, your champion is foiled in the contest, 
 " Even the youths shall faint." 
 
 V. I have thought of several other occasions where the ungodly 
 man and the man of faith will have opportunity to test their prow- 
 ess in the same conflict, but I will add only one. They must both 
 pass the review of the last judgment. " We must all stand before 
 the judgment-seat of Christ." And to set any value upon a spirit 
 of enterprise or of daring, that will not carry us through that last 
 scene, is to play the fool. I wish to cultivate the principles that 
 will carry me through. 
 
 Now follow, if you please, one of the most daring of the unbe- 
 lievers to the last tribunal. How will he manage there 1 Can he 
 hide his sins ?. Can he palliate them, or neutralize them 1 Can 
 he prove that the law was too severe, or the penalty unjust 1 Can 
 he offer any eloquent plea why he should be acquitted 1 Will any 
 angel plead for him ?. Will the blessed Redeemer be his advocate 1 
 Will his courage live ajid thrive in that conflict 1 If weighed in the 
 balance, will he not be found wanting 1 If convicted, will not sen- 
 tence go forth against him 1 Will devils be afraid to convey him to 
 the place of torment 1 Suppose him, if you please, to have weathered 
 16 
 
122 THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 
 
 every other storm, how will he conflict with " everlasting burn- 
 ings 1 By what daring arguments will he keep hope alive in hell, 
 and resist the embrace of despair, or put out the " unquenchable 
 fires ?" Come, ye that intend to brave it through without grace, 
 that dare to live, and expect to die, without an interest in the 
 Lord Jesus, approach the precincts of the pit, and inquire how 
 your champion fares in this last conflict ! Does he stand or fall 1 
 Does his courage abide by him 1 May you venture, or not, to join 
 your destiny with his 1 Let this point be settled before you ven- 
 ture into your dying chamber without the grace of God. 
 
 And how does it fare with the man of faith in the same conflict 1 
 He ventures not to come to the judgment-seat alone, supported by 
 any courage which his depraved heart can generate. He comes 
 clothed with a Savior's righteousness, owns his guilt, and pleads 
 the atoning blood of the Redeemer. When bid, " Come, ye blessed 
 of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the 
 foundation of the world 5" his reply is " When saw we thee an 
 hungered, and fed thee 1 or thirsty, and gave thee drink 1 When 
 saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in 1 or naked and clothed 
 thee 1 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto 
 thee V Then will be heard from the throne of judgment, " Inas- 
 much as you have done it unto one of the least of these my 
 brethren, ye have done it unto me." You recollect the amazing 
 result. They who come to that throne in their own name, and 
 hoped to stand by their own native prowess, " shall go away into 
 everlasting punishment, prepared for the devil and his angels" 
 
 Let me say, then, fellow-sinner, while you resolve to trust in 
 man, or in any thing short of an omnipotent Savior, there remains 
 for you "no hope " but a "fearful looking for of judgment and 
 fiery indignation." If it seem to you, however, that your cause 
 will succeed, you have only to make the trial. Storms will beat 
 upon you : but if you still think your own heart can generate all 
 the prowess you shall need in the conflicts of life, and death, and 
 judgment, then you must try. It is my duty, however, to assure 
 you, " that even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young 
 men shall utterly fall." 
 
 But, on the other hand, there is " strong consolation to you who 
 trust in the Lord" The promise is, that " you shall mount up on 
 wings as eagles, shall run and not be weary, and walk and not 
 faint." Now God will dp all that he has said ; will succor you 
 as he has promised, will enlighten your darkness, will provide you 
 a retreat in temptation, will cover your head in the day of battle, 
 
THE TWO CHAMPIONS CONTRASTED. 123 
 
 will give his angels charge concerning you, and in their hands 
 they shall bear you up, till you have trodden the whole desert 
 through, and passed over Jordan, and entered the New Jerusalem, 
 to go no more out for ever. 
 
 While, then, " the wicked perish at the presence of God" while it 
 becomes them to " weep and howl for their miseries that shall come 
 upon them" " let the righteous be glad ; let them rejoice before God ; 
 yea, let them exceedingly rejoice" 
 
SERMON VIII. 
 THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 PSALM CXIX. 25. 
 
 My soul cleaveth unto the dust : quicken thou me according to thy word. 
 
 THE Christian is a man of heavenly birth. That world where 
 Christ is he considers his home, and, till he arrives there, he views 
 himself a pilgrim and a stranger. There are his best friends, there. 
 he has deposited his treasures, and thither faith often directs his 
 flight, and fixes his delightful gaze. Hence the Christian is never 
 more unhappy than when he becomes attached to the things of the 
 earth. If the dove should lose her wings, with which she used to 
 soar among the branches, and be constrained to crawl with rep- 
 tiles, and feed on the serpent's food, she would not be more expa- 
 triated, than the man of heavenly birth when cleaving to the dust. 
 Such a state, guilty as he may be in every step of his decline, can 
 hardly be said to be his choice. It is a state over which he mourns, 
 and at which he is himself astonished. He is dissatisfied, and, like 
 a dislocated bone, aches to be restored. If he should find him- 
 self contented and happy, while alienated from God, it would cut 
 off his last shred of hope. The less he hopes, and the more un- 
 happy, the more hopeful is his case. 
 
 The text contains a confession, a prayer, and a plea. 
 
 I. It contains a confession, " My soul cleaveth to the dust." The 
 Psalmist felt that his mind had become sordid. The things of the 
 earth occupied too much his attention, and engrossed too exclu- 
 sively his affections ; and the dreadful consequence was that he 
 lost his relish for heavenly things. He was, in his own esteem, a 
 wretched outcast, and calculated to remain a vagabond till God 
 should be pleased to quicken him. If any would know whether 
 this is their state, I will endeavor to afford them help. It is a dis- 
 eased state of a heavenly mind, and the disease, like all others, has 
 its peculiar characteristics. 
 
 1. One in such a state will neglect duty. It is a burden, because 
 there is no pleasure felt in the performance. Thus he may justify 
 his neglect, and may half believe that what he thought duty, in 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 125 
 
 the days of his espousals, was a mistake. But surely, then was 
 the time, and not now, to decide what is duty. Then the con- 
 science was tender, then was felt a lively gratitude, and a strong 
 sense of obligation. Then the rules of duty, as far as they were 
 known, were regarded. The question then is, what did we think 
 to be duty in the day of our espousals to Christ'? Do we act, as 
 we then resolved to act in all the varied relationship of life, and 
 especially in our relationship to Christ 1 Do we pray as often and 
 as fervently 1 Do we read the Scriptures as diligently and as 
 prayerfully 1 Do we walk as circumspectly 1 Are we as faithful 
 to admonish, as free to speak, for God, as diligent in searching the 
 heart 1 And is the thought of sin repelled with that promptness 
 and with that holy decision exercised during the first week of our 
 regenerate state 1 Or do we cleave to the dust 1 Then we soared 
 on heavenly wings, our conversation was above, our treasures 
 there, our home there, our all there. 
 
 If you doubt, whether in the fervency of your first love was the 
 time to fix the laws of duty, I ask when can we best judge how 
 worthy God is to be loved and served, if not when our hearts have 
 been warmed with his love 1 When would you be willing that 
 your friend should decide how he should treat you 1 When his 
 attachment was strong, or when, for some assignable cause, his 
 affections had become alienated 1 The amount of these remarks 
 is, God has given us general laws, and commissioned conscience 
 to apply them to our particular circumstances. When shall con- 
 science enter upon this duty 1 If when tender, and before it has 
 been injured by the coldness and wickedness of a relapsed state, 
 how will matters stand with us, as it regards the discharge of duty, 
 on measuring ourselves by this rule 1 
 
 2. A state of relapse is generally marked by a heartless perform- 
 ance of those duties which are not entirely neglected. A wander- 
 ing mind in prayer, accompanied with deadness, dulness, formality, 
 and a total absence of all that fervor, affection, tenderness, and 
 heavenly aspiration which characterize the duties of the saint 
 awake, are the dire symptoms of this disease of the soul. As an 
 observing believer once remarked, " Christians in such a state 
 pray as if they were not acquainted with God." They do not go 
 to him melted with filial affection. They lie like slaves beneath 
 the throne. Ask them to pray, and they exhibit guilt ; and come 
 to the mercy-seat, as the convict approaches the gallows, with the 
 halter about his neck. They will hide in corners that they may 
 not be asked to officiate in the duties of religion, and consider it a 
 
126 THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 calamity to be discovered. They are sometimes distressed at the 
 approach of the communion season. They are too guilty to have 
 a right there, and too dull to have an errand there. The very Sab- 
 bath aggravates their miseries, by compelling them to attend to 
 duties for which they have lost the relish. Thus the frost of an 
 untimely winter chills every duty, and blights every privilege. 
 
 3. The state I describe is always attended with a pressure of 
 worldly care. The mind ever presses after some object. To the 
 believer, acting in character, God is that object. His heart is 
 above, his hopes are there, and there centre his warmest affec- 
 tions. But when he descends from that centre, he comes within 
 the attraction of earth, and basely gives the creature those affec- 
 tions he used to fix on God. It is as true that where the heart is 
 there will his treasures be, as that where the treasure is there will 
 the heart be. And our treasure will always need our care, will 
 engross our time, and employ our energies. Hence the Christian 
 whose faith is low, and who lets go his grasp of heaven, as neces- 
 sarily becomes a worldling, as the man who has never risen above 
 the clod he treads. How long he may remain astray is uncertain, 
 surely not so long but that God will quicken him before he die. 
 But his injured Lord may bring him back with stripes. The more 
 he loves his children, the more certain is it that he will chastise 
 them. Probably not long will he be permitted to be a worldling, 
 if God has intended any very eminent station for him in heaven. 
 
 4. The wandering believer must be the subject of small enjoy- 
 ments* The new-born man can never love this poor world with all 
 his heart. He could have a higher relish for its pleasures if he 
 had never known a better good, if he had never had a glimpse of 
 heaven. The peasant is quite content with his cottage, but make 
 him once a prince, and then reduce him to poverty, and his cot- 
 tage has lost all its charms. He may through necessity tarry, there, 
 but it can never be animated as it used to be with his smiles, and 
 his songs. So the Christian, however worldly he may become, 
 however sordid and terrine, can never entirely forget that in hea- 
 ven he has a better home. Having made by faith one excursion 
 into the third heavens, it must be impossible that he should after- 
 ward do anything more than pitch his tent below ; he cannot pro- 
 ject the idea of a permanent home in a world that loves him so 
 little, or rather hates him so cordially. Hence the impenitent man 
 can find in earthly things a more satisfying good than the strayed 
 believer. 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 12T 
 
 And while he is thus forbidden to be happy in the things of 
 earth, he is also cut off from any sweet intercourse with Heaven. 
 He loses his hope of future blessedness. And the more readily he 
 relinquishes a hope which has no present holiness of life for its 
 support, the better evidence will he give that Christ is formed in 
 him the hope of glory. He in this gives evidence that he under- 
 stands the nature of holiness : that it must bear fruit. Or he may 
 retain his hope, but it will not be very big with consolations. His 
 spring of comforts is dried up. The Sabbath used to be to him a 
 day of holy, happy rest, but now its hours are dark, and disturbed 
 with the goadings of a guilty conscience. The gospel was once 
 to him a river of life. He guided his steps by its precepts ; he 
 hung his hopes on its promises ; he fed his soul on its doctrines, 
 and his prospects were illumined by its prophecies. He heard it 
 with joy, considered it the voice of Heaven, and pressed it to his 
 bosom as his richest treasure. Now it has become a sealed book, 
 a dead letter. In the ordinances, he used to banquet with his 
 Lord, forgot his cares, softened his trials, had sweet foretastes of 
 heaven, and stanched every wound with the balm of life. But 
 they are now become mere beggarly elements. The closet is 
 covered with the darkness of Egypt ; where he used to be so happy, 
 where he caught his prospects of heaven, where he often wept 
 away his miseries, and had enjoyments with which the stranger 
 intermeddleth not. His alliance to the saints, once the sweetest 
 bond on earth, has lost almost all its charms. Thus the saint 
 relapsed is cut off from the enjoyments of both worlds. His con- 
 version has spoiled the present world, that it cannot be to him a 
 source of high delight, and his relapse has placed a cloud between 
 him and heaven. A heavenly mind in such a state, is more an ob- 
 ject of commiseration than any other on which the sun, in all his 
 course, can look. To cleave to the earth after being born of God, 
 is a fall, like which, there has been nothing similar since the angels 
 made their bed in hell. 
 
 The moral disease, which I have thus endeavored to describe, 
 is prevalent, contagious, sinful, and ruinous. It is, in every view 
 we can take, the deadliest plague that ever spent its fury upon a 
 heaven-born soul. 
 
 It is prevalent many of our churches throng with professors 
 who are so earthly and sensual as hardly to be distinguished from 
 the mass from which they have been selected. And it sometimes 
 happens in a Church, that there are so few that may be considered 
 exceptions, that one would suppose they had acted in concert, and 
 
128 THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 had agreed, unanimously, to become apostates. Were not the 
 evil so prevalent it would bg less deplorable. Could we always be 
 sure that there were enough awake to watch the interests of the 
 Church, the danger would diminish ; they might exert an agency, 
 if any foe approached, to arouse their brethren. The very savages 
 could teach us a lesson. When they meet to indulge themselves 
 in the pleasures of inebriation, they are careful to select several 
 of their company, who shall have no share in the brutal pleasure, 
 that they may keep watch over their brethren in their defenceless 
 state. It would be well if a Church, when they intend to sleep, 
 would appoint their sentinels, who might alarm them if danger 
 approached, and wake them before the bridegroom came. 
 
 This dire disease is contagious. If the Christian could sleep, or 
 become stupid or worldly, without infecting his brethren, it would 
 be a smaller evil. But we are so constituted that imitation is one 
 of the most powerful principles of our nature, and is a prime-agent 
 in the formation of character, and we naturally imitate those we 
 love. Hence, when a believer falls to sleep, becomes worldly, or 
 neglects the means of grace, those who love him stray with him. 
 And the influence he has, while it qualifies him to do the more 
 good, enables him also to extend sterility and death to the full 
 extent of that influence. 
 
 It is not easy to describe the sinfulness of thus forsaking God. 
 It is offering him direct and legible insult. It reads to the world 
 this lying lesson : " We have tried the pleasures of religion, and 
 find them poor. Its duties and its cares result in disappointment 
 and misery ; and we return to serve mammon." Whether God 
 will endure this insult, judge ye. 
 
 It cannot be a light thing to break covenant with a pardoning 
 Redeemer, and trample under our feet the seals and blood of that 
 covenant. To give all his promises the lie, and to barter away 
 our hopes of heaven, for the pleasures of a dream, is a course of 
 conduct which God will not, cannot readily forgive. 
 
 But the crime will glare yet more when we read its ruinous 
 consequences. The backslider endangers his own soul. I know 
 that God's everlasting covenant secures the salvation of every be- 
 liever, but how shall it be known who is a believer 1 " We shall 
 know the Lord if we follow on to know him" We shall be saved, 
 " if we endure to the end" We shall, finally, be fitted for the king- 
 dom, if we do not put our hand to the plough and look back. God 
 will work in us to will and to do of his good pleasure, but we are 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 129 
 
 to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. Hence the be- 
 liever, by remaining in a state of relapse a single day, darkens his 
 evidence of faith, and increases the dreadful probability that his 
 hope is false, and his state alarming. Thus he suspends his own 
 soul over the bottomless pit. 
 
 And we have already said that his disease is contagious. Thus 
 he exposes his brethren to the same hopeless, comfortless, and 
 fearful state. The . injury he does himself may be the smallest 
 part of the evil. He wounds himself, but he may, by his example 
 and his influence, inflict a deeper and a deadlier wound in the 
 hearts of his brethren. Bad conduct will have more influence 
 than good. In doing wrong we fall in with the full tide of human 
 depravity, and press men downward, the way they incline to go. It 
 is far easier to damn men than to save them. With a very small 
 exertion one may stain his garments with blood, but to save a soul 
 from death is a great work. 
 
 And we must not forget that not upon his brethren merely does 
 the backslider exert a baneful influence, but upon all about him ! 
 Sinners never feel so justified in their deeds as when they copy the 
 example of a professed believer. Many a time have they shamed 
 us with this remark, " If mine is the path to hell, your Christians 
 will perish with me." And how dreadful to escape to heaven, and 
 carry with us the recollection that we have sent others to hell ! 
 To look about us, as we enter heaven, and see on our skirts the 
 stain of the blood of souls ! To descry from the battlements of 
 the upper temple, our neighbors, our brethren, our children in the 
 pit, lost through our example ! Then, brethren, we shall want a 
 place to weep. And many a time, it would seem, must the 
 heavenly song be interrupted, by the recollection of the mischief 
 we have achieved. . 
 
 And who can say that the redeemed soul may not itself be a 
 loser forever by every instance of relapse. It stints his growth. 
 Could you make a plant to grow, if you should remove it from the 
 sun and the rain, and place it in a vault. Leave it there but a single 
 week and then return it to its wonted bed, and who can doubt, but 
 that the injury it has sustained, will be visible on the approach of 
 winter 1 And why will not the believer, if he arrive at heaven, 
 be forever a smaller vessel of mercy, because of his backslidings 1 
 While he cleaves to earth he ceases to grow in knowledge and 
 in grace. The work of sanctification is stationary, and the powers 
 of the soul cease to expand. It is a state of disease, and the spirit 
 pines, till the return of health. There is no relish for the previous 
 17 
 
130 THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 provisions of the gospel, the soul's food. Hence it decays ; loses 
 its beauty and its strength 5 is the prey of famine, and thus stints 
 its future growth. One may lose as much in a period of decline, 
 as it can gain in thrice that period. And why will not the evil be 
 visible forever 1 The degree of blessedness to which we shall be 
 admitted when we die, will bear proportion to the life we live. 
 " Every man shall receive according to his works." He whose 
 pound had gained five pounds was made ruler over five cities ; and 
 he whose pound had gained ten over ten. There will be a differ- 
 ence in heaven we know, as one star differeth from another star 
 in glory. And we cannot see how obedience can be rewarded, 
 unless our future crown shape its glory by our present improve- 
 ments. 
 
 It is believed that glorified spirits will be the subjects of endless 
 increase in joy and blessedness. Hence, if we begin our heavenly 
 growth with different statures, why will not the difference widen, 
 and widen, and widen for ever 1 Each will be perfectly happy ; 
 each will find its cup of enjoyment full ; but one will be a larger 
 vessel of mercy than another. Hence, why will not the fatal effects 
 of our guilty relapses extend and widen through all the years of 
 heaven 1 And what pity a heavenly mind should have any thing 
 to impede its growth. How incalculable is the calamity that a 
 spirit, born with the faculty of endless expansion, should be cum- 
 bered and compressed with clods of clay ! Yet such is the dis- 
 tressing fact ; a fact at which the angels might well be grieved, 
 and at which God himself pours out lamentation, " Oh that thou 
 hadst hearkened to my commandments ! then had tjiy peace been 
 as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea." De- 
 pend upon it, brethren, that is a great calamity which can awaken 
 such sympathy and create such regret in the eternal mind. 
 
 If any objector should say, " If God so tenderly loves his people, 
 why does he permit them to do themselves such incurable mis- 
 chief 1" The answer is obvious ; God does not intend to make 
 them as happy as he could make them. He could have made them 
 angels instead of men. He could have made them men, and yet 
 possessed of nobler capacities, fitting them for sublimer enjoy- 
 ments. But every question on these subjects is impudent. And 
 for the same reason that God created them as he did, he permits 
 them all to be less happy than they might be, and makes some 
 happier than others. To measure their future happiness by their 
 present conduct, is to treat them like rational creatures, and if he 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 131 
 
 at last raise them, to a glory bright as their capacities can endure 
 it is all they can ask, or expect, or receive. 
 
 Some have supposed that the promise, " All things shall work 
 together for good to them that love God," implies that their very 
 backslidings will advance them in holiness. Perhaps this is a 
 mistake. It would be hardly safe to entrust such an imperfect 
 creature with such a promise. It is safe to assure him that all the 
 events of divine providence, shall conspire to render him holy and 
 happy ; but let him know that his own sins will have the same 
 effect, and he is bribed to transgress. He is tempted to indulge 
 in sin because he wishes to be holy : but this would be an absurd 
 experiment. 
 
 No doubt some have advanced faster towards heaven after a 
 state of relapse. God in dealing with his people may direct that 
 their " backslidings shall reprove them." But whether as a gene- 
 ral principle it is true, that to forsake God is the readiest way to 
 make us more like him, demands a doubt. The grace of God may 
 abound toward his recovered children ; he may forgive them and 
 love them after they have grievously offended him ; and may ad- 
 vance the work of grace in their hearts, though they deserve to 
 perish 5 but why ascribe to their sins, what is due to the grace of 
 their Redeemer 1 Peter was a valuable apostle, but perhaps none 
 the more valuable for having denied his Lord. When he was 
 converted he strengthened his brethren, but would perhaps have 
 strengthend them more had he needed converting but once. If 
 the backslider could hope in the midst of his wanderings, that his 
 sins wolild prove a blessing, that hope would be illy calculated to 
 bring him back ; and if there was such a. promise, he might grasp 
 at such a hope. There is something dreadful in the thought that 
 the believer should embrace an idol, and feel himself comforted in 
 his crime by the prospect of thus increasing his sanctification, and 
 brightening his crown of glory. If the experiment would be dan- 
 gerous such an application of the promise is false ; and the back- 
 slidings of the believer himself is not among the all things that 
 shall eventuate in his everlasting good. 
 
 II. The prayer "quicken thou me" In a sense, the whole text 
 is a prayer. When David confesses " My soul cleaveth to the 
 dust," he must be viewed as laying open his case to God. He 
 thus dates his prayer, in the very dust of death, as you have some- 
 times seen a petition dated in the recesses of a dungeon. I think 
 r see in all this deep humility and open ingenuousness. He felt 
 
132 THE SOUL feELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EAKTH. 
 
 and confessed that his habitation was in the dust, and in that posi- 
 tion not attempting concealment, commences his petitions. As if 
 he had said, " Here, Lord, I am embracing the dust." Never was 
 a heavenly mind in a more miserable condition. All ambition to 
 rise is gone. My situation is precisely the object of my choice. 
 " I cleave to the dust." 
 
 Believer, if you fear that your condition is but too well described 
 in this humiliating confession, and you would hope to be restored 
 again to the favor of God, erect your prayer on a very ingenuous 
 confession of your sins. If you venture upon any petition to your 
 injured Sovereign, date that petition from the place of your guilty 
 retreat. Without any reserve, mention in the ears of your Re- 
 deemer, the place of your abode, and the meanness and guiltiness 
 of your present employment. Suppose the prodigal had dated a 
 line to his father at that moment when he came to himself, how do 
 you imagine it would have read 1 I apprehend this would have 
 been its purport 1 " From a far country, poor and friendless, 
 without home or shelter ; destitute of a father or counsellor ; in 
 the employ of a menial servant, feeding swine ; naked and perish- 
 ing with hunger." How a line thus dated would have melted the 
 heart of his father. And, brethren, if any of you have wandered, 
 and are willing to return to God, you must practice the same in- 
 genuousness. You can date your prayer after this manner, " From 
 a world lying in ignorance and wickedness, where I have engaged 
 to shine as a light, while my example increases the aggregate of 
 darkness ; an inconsistent professor ; a senseless, careless, stupid 
 worldling ; buried up in cares that have no concern with thy king- 
 dom ; too guilty to hope, too dull to pray, and too depraved to 
 repent." Such a confession, deeply felt and cheerfully made, may 
 be the prelude to any prayer you may utter. " And before you 
 call God will answer, and while you are yet speaking he will hear." 
 
 We see in the prayer of the text a deep sense of dependence. 
 Quicken thou me. David felt that none but God could revive him. 
 His case was hopeless, unless there came help from Heaven. He 
 was too far gone to be resuscitated by any other power than that 
 which raises the dead to life. God must be his helper, or he never 
 rises again from the horrible pit. Probably he had made some in- 
 effectual efforts to restore himself, and had by every such effort 
 sunk the deeper from the reach of human aid. The exertions of a 
 sleeping man to wake himself, are of all efforts the most worthless. 
 Convinced at length that he must die in his dreams or be waked 
 by another, he raises his eyes to heaven, " quicken thou me." 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 133 
 
 Christian brethren, if any one of you find your case a similar 
 one, your eye must be fixed on the same Divine helper. And yet 
 you must strongly feel, that the more need there is that God 
 should quicken you, the more guilty you are, and the more unde- 
 serving of his merciful interpositions. This remark is predicated 
 upon the simple fact, that we are agents, that we go into voluntary 
 exile, and remain there because it is our choice. But all this in- 
 creases the necessity of divine aid. If we are so base that we can 
 choose to depart from the Lord, he must subdue that dreadful 
 choice or our case is hopeless. Let us then feel our need of Di- 
 vine aid, and hang all our hopes upon the timely interposition of 
 his quickening power. 
 
 It sometimes happens that the backslider entirely neglects to 
 pray, in which case it is easy to perceive that he cuts himself ofF 
 from the last resource' of help. While the wanderer can summon 
 courage to pray, and can weep over his wanderings, there is hope 
 in his case. However weak one may be in himself, prayer takes 
 hold of everlasting strength. It enlists angels, it enlists God him- 
 self on the side of the believer. It wakes in his behalf the watch- 
 ful eye of Heaven. But I proceed to notice 
 
 III. The PLEA used by the Psalmist in his guilty and gloomy 
 circumstances. " Quicken thou me according to thy word" i. e., 
 according to thy gracious promises. In making this plea, the 
 Psalmist discovered both his humility and his faith. It . was evi- 
 dence of his humility as it was his only plea. He asks no favor be- 
 cause he was the king of Israel. He pleads not that he was the 
 man after God's own heart. Nor even does he mention his cove- 
 nant relation to God, though this would have been a proper plea. 
 God of his mere mercy had made promises to his people $ these 
 he believed, and on these he hung his hopes, and grounded his 
 prayer, " Quicken thou me according to thy word." 
 
 Brethren, there is no plea in our distresses so prevalent with 
 God, as that in which we plead his promises. He loves to do, 
 and he intends to do as he has said. He issued the promises with 
 a perfect knowledge of our sins, and our unworthiness. He has 
 never repented of one promise that he ever made, nor wishes to 
 be excused from their accomplishment. " He is the same yes- 
 terday, to-day and for ever," and all the promises are in Christ, 
 yea, and in him, amen. 
 
 God loves to have his people acquainted with the gracious 
 things he has said. When we have been wandering in the fields 
 
134 THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 of promise, our prayers smell of their perfume. We must have 
 often read the promise, and must have treasured it up in the mind 
 before we can apply it to our case, and make it our plea at the 
 throne. Hence, when we go to God, filling our mouths with his 
 promises, he knows that we are acquainted with his word. And 
 we may in such circumstances come boldly to the throne, assured 
 that we shall " obtain mercy and find grace to help in every time 
 of need." It is very remarkable that to almost every individual 
 case there is at least one promise, if not more. 
 
 Brethren, if any of you feel guilty, you may plead, " Thou art a 
 God ready to pardon, gracious, and merciful, slow to anger, and 
 of great kindness." Or you may pour out your soul in this lan- 
 guage, "Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and 
 passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage." If 
 God hide his face from you, you may make this plea, " In a little 
 wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with everlasting 
 kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." 
 If your trials multiply, if your estate consume, and your friends 
 die, if one trial comes in upon another as wave follows wave in a 
 stormy sea, you may plead this promise, " When thou passest 
 through the waters I will be with thee, and through the floods, 
 they shall not overflow thee, when thou walkest through the fire 
 thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flames kindle upon 
 thee." I will be with thee in six troubles, and in seven I -will not 
 forsake thee." If no light from heaven seems to shine upon your 
 path, you may plead this promise, "Whosoever believeth in me 
 shall not abide in darkness." If you fear that God has utterly 
 forsaken you, you are not without a promise, " For a small mo- 
 ment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather 
 thee." If you apprehend that you have wearied his patience, 
 and that having revived you so often, he will never revive you 
 again, you may remind him of this precious text, " My mercy 
 will I keep forevermore," and this, "Mercy and truth shall go be- 
 fore thy face." If you even fear that God may break his promise, 
 there is a plea for you, " The mountains shall depart and the hills 
 be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither 
 shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that 
 hath mercy on thee." If it should seem to you that God even de- 
 lights in afflicting you, as if he meant to break down your spirits 
 by the combined efforts of various calamities, you may plead this 
 promise, " Though the Lord cause grief, yet will he have compas- 
 sion, according to the multitude of his mercies." But, brethren, 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 135 
 
 I have entered a field which I did not hope fully to explore. Al- 
 most every page of the book of God, and in some instances, every 
 line contains a promise. Could I recollect them half, I could oc- 
 cupy your time till that sun had set, and risen and set a score of 
 times. I could tell you of the promises made to them that fear 
 God, to them that hope in him, to them that love him, to them 
 that obey him, to them that trust him,- and to them that honor him. 
 But if the backsliding Christian can only be waked from the 
 slumbers of his relapse he can read the long catalogue of promises, 
 and make them all his own, and found upon each some plea at the 
 throne. Oh ! how sweet to come thus. Remembering the kind 
 things that God has said, and resting the soul firmly on the truth 
 of his word, the backslider should hasten to the throne. To stay 
 away is to prolong Jiis miseries ; to stay away, is death. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. The subject gives us a humiliating picture of the human 
 heart. That men should not wish for communion and fellowship 
 with God, who never yet have tasted and seen that the Lord is 
 gracious, is not surprising j but that the Christian should forsake 
 the Lord, and go after his idols, what a proof, of remaining cor- 
 ruption ! We have heard of the savage, who, after being civilized, 
 wished to return again to the wilderness, and the chase. We have 
 heard of the prodigal, who, after being restored to his father and 
 his home, returned again to his paths of profligacy. But what 
 have we ever heard of that resembled the consummate folly of him 
 who, having tasted the sweets of Christian enjoyments, could bar- 
 ter away his hopes and his pleasures for the enjoyments of time 
 and sense ; could quit the bosom of his Redeemer, where he was 
 so happy, and try to live again on the husks that the swine eat. 
 Do you think there is one in heaven that could be persuaded to lay 
 aside his harp and come down to our world again if you would 
 give him the whole of it 1 And Christians have tasted of heaven, 
 and may drink deeper of its joys if they please, and how can they 
 ever barter them away. 
 
 2. The subject gives us enlarged views of the mercy of God, 
 that he will make beings so depraved the objects of his affectionate 
 regard. How strange ! Look at some lapsed believer, scarcely 
 differing from the world in a thing that can be named; sleeping, 
 it may be, most profoundly, while the outcry of anxious souls is 
 heard all around him ; less thoughtful than men who have never 
 tasted nor seen that the Lord was gracious, buried up in worldly 
 
136 THE SOUL KELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 
 
 care, and engrossed, soul and body, in the affairs of the life that 
 now is ! And, tell me, is there any measure to that mercy, which 
 can pardon all this, and raise such a soul to heaven. How un- 
 worthy of heaven, and how unfit for heaven, and how ungrateful 
 to the God of heaven ; and still the mercy of God can lead him to 
 cast all his iniquities behind his back, and still save the poor mi- 
 serable backslider. I know that the backslider should entertain 
 no such hope, but should believe himself in the gall of bitterness, 
 and under the bonds of iniquity. But if one such case has been 
 since there was a church, and we should, at last, see that soul in 
 heaven, how it will exalt the compassion of a pardoning God ! How 
 his long-suffering patience will shine, as in glowing capitals, among 
 the perfections that will be seen to cluster in his nature. 
 
 Finally, my Christian brethren, I have taken up this subject with 
 the apprehension that some of my readers mrty be slumbering at 
 this very moment. There is some cause, and where is that cause, 
 and what, that the work of God seems at a stand among that class 
 that seemed the first to wake.* There are many of your acquaint- 
 ances, probably, in middle life, who know that they are sinners, 
 and feel that sin has ruined them, and would give a moiety of their 
 estate were they safe from the fear of hell ; and there they stand, 
 ready to go forward if they must, or backward if they may. Now, 
 is there not some stumbling block not removed out of the way 1 
 The preacher would ask his own heart, Is it there 1 And he 
 would ask every brother, Is it there ? Oh, it would be dreadful if 
 any of us should stand in the way of the Lord, and keep souls out 
 of heaven. It would be dreadful not to do that which would bring 
 them to heaven. To find a soul, at last, on the left hand, and know 
 that we had blocked up his way to life. We shall then feel that we 
 had better have died when the Lord began to work ; our death might 
 have awakened him, and while he has stumbled and fallen, at 
 our example, he might have wept and repented over our grave. 
 
 How can a professor calculate that any thing shall ever wake 
 him, if he sleep now 1 We tell the impenitent, and we have much 
 Scripture and many facts to support the remark, that if he wakes 
 not now, he must probably sleep the sleep of death eternal. And 
 - if so, with how much assurance may we say to the slumbering 
 professor, that, probably, he is not asleep but dead, and must be 
 aroused by the same new-creating voice, that must bring to life 
 the dead in trespasses and sins, or he never bestirs him in the 
 ways of God. If he can now see all classes of sinners quitting the 
 
 * Alluding to a work of God then in progress. 
 
THE SOUL RELUCTANTLY MADE FAST TO EARTH. 137 
 
 ways of death, and sitting down clothed and in their right mind at 
 the feet of Jesus, what event more electrifying can he hope to wit- 
 ness, till he see the dead rise and the Son of Man coming in the 
 clouds of heaven. He would do well to resign his hope, and place 
 himself among the anxious and the inquiring, and begin a Chris- 
 tian life anew. The exhortation of the apostle, " Repent, and do 
 thy first works," is applicable in all its force to the professor of 
 godliness who finds himself inactive and uninterested in a work 
 such as God is doing in this place. It is wicked for him to cal- 
 culate that he has been born of God, to presume that God will 
 make him happy, or to hope that he has any inheritance in the 
 kingdom of God and of Christ. Amen. 
 
 18 
 
SERMON IX. 
 
 A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 
 
 1 CORINTHIANS X. 31. 
 
 Whether, therefore, ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. 
 
 THERE is one feature in the mind of God that none have ever 
 been infidel enough to doubt, his unlimited love of happiness. 
 He delights to pour out blessedness into every heart that he finds 
 prepared to receive it. When, at length, his kindness came in 
 contact with a lost and ruined world, it contrived and developed a 
 plan of redemption. " God was in Christ reconciling the world 
 to himself." He " was rich yet for our sakes he became poor, 
 that we through his poverty might be rich ;" and the followers of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ must be like him. " If any man have not 
 the spirit of Christ he is none of his." Hence, the first inquiry of 
 every new-born soul will be with him of Tarsus, " Lord, what 
 wilt thou have me to do V The proper answer to this question 
 will show, how the Christian is to act out the spirit of his Master in 
 efforts to promote the conversion and the salvation of the world. 
 
 I. Let me begin by saying that the Christian should devote to 
 this work his personal services. It is the work we see God doing, 
 and both duty and interest require that we be workers together 
 with God. And the only measure there can possibly be applied 
 to the service is the power we have to serve. " Whatsoever thy 
 hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." By this rule God has 
 limited his requisitions. " If there be first a willing mind it is ac- 
 cepted according to that which a man hath, and not according to 
 that which he hath not." The hand is used in Scripture to mean 
 our whole natural ability. It is even used in the same sense in 
 reference to God. " The hand of the Lord is not shortened that 
 it cannot save ;" whatever faculty, then, of our nature there is, 
 God has claimed it for himself. 
 
 If we can think and reason we are to employ our understanding 
 to save men. We can know their character and their danger, and 
 expose their condition, and, by a thousand motives, urge their 
 
A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 139 
 
 speedy escape from the wrath to come, their emancipation from 
 the power of sin and Satan, into the glorious liberty of the sons 
 of God. In this very work the infinite mind of God is occupied, 
 nor can we say that he has any employment to which he plies his 
 thoughts with more untiring industry than in the work of redemp- 
 tion. How does he propose to sinners that they let him reason 
 with them, and what arguments that none but God could invent 
 does he urge upon their consideration ! " Though your sins be 
 as scarlet, they shall be as wool, though they be red like crimson, 
 they shall be as snow." How mistaken, then, are the little beings 
 in the shape of men, who suppose they have minds too dignified 
 to be employed in the redemption of souls ! They would not, 
 perhaps, grudge to be occupied on the bench or at the bar, but it 
 would degrade them, it seems, to plead the cause of an insulted 
 God with a rebellious world. They would spend life in studying 
 out the laws of nature, or in defining the properties of a plant, a 
 mineral, or an insect, but look down contemptuously upon the 
 business of making men acquainted with God, and winning them 
 back to loyalty and duty ! The work of counting money and ap- 
 praising merchandise is not beneath them, but it would be quite a 
 stoop to be employed in studying the word of God, and gathering 
 arguments with which to thwart the gainsayings of an infidel and 
 perverse generation ! But if the human mind, as infidels have 
 plead, is a scintillation from the infinite mind, how can it have a 
 nobler employment than in winning souls to Him 1 
 
 It is the legitimate work of every mind to hail the perishing 
 within its reach, and shed upon them an enlightening and sancti- 
 fying influence ! Not the authorized ministers of the sanctuary 
 alone should feel the pressure of this.enterprise, but every intel- 
 lect that took pattern from its Maker, and wears a trace of his 
 likeness. The power of reasoning was given to us to associate 
 us with God in doing the same work, as far as may be, that he 
 does, and the human mind should feel itself meanly occupied, if 
 even from necessity, held away from its appropriate work, and 
 compelled for a time to be devoted to the drudgeries of this life. 
 If one has not the knowledge, or the talent, or the leisure, or au- 
 thority to preach the everlasting gospel, he may not be idle. 
 There is some field open at his door to do good. He can learn, 
 and wield with the hundreds that cross his track, the arguments 
 that sustain the religion of the gospel, can fling out his warnings 
 upon the ear of the gay, and the worldly, and the dissipated, and 
 the drunken, and the profane. He can watch, and wake the slum- 
 
140 A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 
 
 bering believer, and cheer and sustain the ministry, and stanch 
 the heart of the disconsolate, and plan the measures of benevo- 
 lence, and put in successful motion a thousand other minds, mighti- 
 er perhaps than his own, that shall push on the enterprise of re- 
 demption, after his own has escaped to heaven, and his bones have 
 been mouldered a thousand years. He may be a small man in his 
 own esteem, and insignificant, too, in the sight of God, and still may 
 give healthful impulse, and a right direction, to a moving world. 
 " Worm Jacob may take in his hand a new, sharp, threshing in- 
 strument, having teeth, by which he shall thresh the mountains 
 and beat them small, and make the hills as chaff, and the wind 
 shall carry them away, and the whirlwind shall scatter them." 
 Let the Christian be only willing to be in his place, and there 
 will be presented soon some nook for him to occupy, where he 
 can strengthen and edify the spiritual temple. 
 
 And let it not be forgotten that there is no amount of other 
 duty, in wliich we operate by proxy, that can possibly exonerate 
 us from performng all that may be of this personal service for the 
 Lord Jesus. No matter what the aggregate of duty done through 
 other agencies, we must do this service too. If we could educate 
 a thousand ministers,, and buy the services of ten thousand others r 
 and freight the Word of Life to a score of nations, and thus, by 
 pr oxy, evangelize half a world, if there was still a soul within our 
 reach over whom we could, by the use of our own minds, exert a 
 sanctifying control, we must answer to God for the proper use of 
 that opportunity. Still it would remain incumbent, " whatsoever 
 thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." Still must we be 
 instant in season and out of season, in warning, and rebuking, and 
 admonishing the wayward and the perishing. The maxim would 
 then apply, " These ought ye to have done, but not to have left 
 the. other undone." There is no proviso in the law of God freeing 
 me from being a preacher of the gospel, in the sense now advocat- 
 ed, if I could send out among the lost an army of evangelists 
 numerous enough to begirt the world. 
 
 Nor can any Moses plead that he is slow of speech, and throw 
 the whole responsibility on Aaron. There is no mind so mean but 
 there is some mind it can reach and instruct, some conscience or 
 heart it can approach and rectify, and, by the Spirit's co-operation, 
 mould into holy and heavenly form. Let men only become will- 
 ing to be the Lord's servants, and he will find them a field of labor. 
 And how can the good man be willing that there should be any 
 heart about him unsanctified, or mind unenlightened 1 Can he rest 
 
A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 141 
 
 in indolence when, if he would act, he could enlarge his Lord's 
 empire 1 Can he ^ee his Master dishonored, and his law trampled 
 upon, when his own exertions would produce obedience 1 And 
 how then can he have hope that he loves his Master. Piety is a 
 living] principle, a power that can generate action and give im- 
 pulse. The healthful state of the soul depends, I know, on the 
 agency of the Holy Ghost ; yet, as God will give his Spirit to them 
 who ask him, his people can always put forth an energy that shall 
 act on others. Hence, if the man of God might, with a good con- 
 science withhold his personal services, he would not, but will place 
 himself between the living and the dead, and stay the plague that 
 is paralyzing the energies of a world. 
 
 When the Church shall feel on this point with sufficient strength 
 every Christian will be virtually a preacher, and God will ordain 
 strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings. Every profes- 
 sion of godliness will recruit the soldiership of Christ, the stam- 
 mering tongue will speak plainly, and many will run to and fro, and 
 knowledge will be increased. Men who have purposed to reject 
 Jesus Christ will feel unhappy till they give up the controversy j 
 and, at length, no one shall have need to say to his brother, Know 
 the Lord, for all shall know him, from the least even unto the 
 greatest. 
 
 It may be that God calls us to serve him with the pen. The man 
 who has talents at this service may not withhold. The pen is that 
 engine by which one mind may bear with energy upon other 
 minds, and, associated with the press, is that lever that can pry 
 up a world. And this weapon, which shook the world in the six- 
 teenth century, will shake it yet more mightily as the millennial 
 morning shall be seen projecting up the sky. 
 
 The world understand the worth and the might .of the pen, and 
 the Church might have learned, if she had not been slow to learn. 
 The lowest scribbler can send his lying puffs abroad in behalf of 
 the theatre, and the politician, who cannot spell his mother tongue, 
 will write and print his electioneering paragraph, then why should 
 not the Christian who can wield an able pen be occupied in this 
 service while the world is perishing. And if one cannot use this 
 instrument of good himself, he can procure it used. And we may, 
 some of us, yet live to see half a million of writers employing ten 
 thousand presses in defending the truth, and sustaining the honor 
 of the Lord Jesus. 
 
 And if our minds seem not to us our noblest part, then may we 
 find something to do for God with our hands. We can toil instead 
 
142 A LIKENCSS TAKEN IN THE FIEL1. 
 
 of those who have better minds, and let them serve, in our behalf, 
 the interest we love. Here something has been'done, but not the 
 thousandth part of what should be. Let the hours that are thrown 
 away by the great mass of the Christian community be employed 
 in laboring for God, and the avails would soon renovate the world. 
 And the labors done with such design would produce habits that 
 would tell on the health, and plenty, and cheerfulness, and sancti- 
 fication of the Church. By such a practice, when universal, how 
 would crime disappear, and credit rise, and health increase, and 
 life be prolonged, and the laboring community throughout Christ- 
 endom stand, at length, on an elevation that would cover the whole 
 territory with a halo of glory. Thus the personal services of 
 every man, woman, and child in the Church of God may be put in 
 requisition to redeem back an alienated world to its rightful Lord 
 and Master. God of mercy grant that the question may soon cease 
 to be asked, either in or about the vineyard, " Why stand ye here 
 all the day idle 1 " 
 
 II. I assert, that the Christian must use his influence in honoring 
 his Master. I refer now not solely to that direct effort that one 
 man makes to control another, but to that ascendency of moral 
 principle which one acquires, by which he leads other minds on 
 in his own track. It consists in a good name, and implies a good 
 example, and may have relation to family and blood, and place and 
 opportunity. Every man has more or less influence, can exert 
 control over some minds, and sway all who will suffer themselves 
 to drop into his wake. 
 
 Wicked men have influence, and will seldom fail to use it to 
 further the interests they love, and destroy the souls they are obli- 
 gated to save. How baneful has been its use in all the pages of 
 human history. The influence of Jeroboam ruined ten of the tribes 
 of Israel ; and the house of Ahab, his descendant, bred mischief 
 in his kingdom that never could be cured till the kingdom was 
 extirpated ; and the influence of Jezebel laid a train of mischief 
 and guilt that even her own blood could riot wash away. And all 
 who are acquainted with history know how blighting has been the 
 influence of Voltaire, spreading over a whole continent, and reach- 
 ing down now through a century ; destined, we fear, to mark its 
 track with the blood of souls through the space of a thousand 
 years. And the miserable Paine, who had all his baseness of prin- 
 ciple, though wanting his greatness of mind, did mischief in his 
 little day, and put moral machinery in motion that has been widen- 
 
A LIKENESS TAKEN IN .THE FIELD. 143 
 
 ing the sphere of devastation, till thousands of souls will acknow- 
 ledge him the father of. their damnation. 
 
 Now the people of God can put forth the same kind of influence 
 in a better cause. They can mould the manners of men, and shape 
 their principles for heaven, and turn the eye of the multitude to 
 truth, and duty, and God, by the use of their influence, the agent 
 by which others have spread through creation darkness and misery. 
 Let them throw their whole hearts into this better interest, and be 
 as prompt and indefatigable for God as were these sons of Belial 
 for their master j and we see not why men may not reach the same 
 gigantic influence in the ways of God, and make their life as con- 
 spicuous in the Church as were these foes of God in the ranks of 
 death. 
 
 There can surely be acquired more greatness of soul, and more 
 fixedness of principle, and more steadfastness of purpose in the 
 cause of God than in the service of the adversary. And there can 
 be used as much industry, and courage, and perseverance, in mak- 
 ing the world holy, as in degrading it. We can place against the 
 polluted names we have rehearsed a Baxter, a Brainard, a Martyn, 
 a Hale, a Luther, a Wesley, and a Whitefield, and a thousand other 
 names ; and what these holy men were others can be, and we 
 might have a whole generation on the stage at once. As the starry 
 night has its galaxy, so the moral world will have, when the Lord's 
 people shall try to shine in all the glory of their Master. They 
 can easily make their influence be felt as it never has been, and as 
 soon as they shall try, their exertions will tell on the character of 
 the Church and the world. 
 
 On the Church an influence may be used with advantage, as 
 there cannot be supposed any prejudice to counteract it. We can 
 lead on the people of God to higher spiritual attainments, to a 
 more devoted benevolence, to greater industry, to more prayer, 
 and bible reading, to a closer covenant keeping, and to equipment 
 and discipline in the whole round of heavenly soldiership. The 
 men of the world exert constantly a deadening and adulterating 
 influence upon the Church, which should be industriously counter- 
 acted by the servants of Jesus Christ. What does the covenant 
 mean, if Christians are not to be putting forth an influence towarcj, 
 each other that shall tend to their mutual sanctification 1 And how 
 can the Church, as a community, throw out a sanctifying influence 
 upon the wide world till this is done 1 
 
 It is one of the first duties of the ministry, you know, to edify 
 the body of Christ, and why should not each believer exert upon 
 
144 A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 
 
 her, as far as possible, the same control 1 When we shall make 
 the people of God feel that we love them, and our example shall 
 testify that we are followers of Christ as dear children, we shall 
 take a hold of their hearts, and exert over them an influence that 
 shall be moulding them into holy and useful habits. We can 
 help form their creed, and rouse their courage, and correct their 
 wanderings, and inspirit them to increased energy, and skill, and 
 impetus, till the Church shall shine forth like the morning. And 
 while we are thus blessing the Church we shall be able to influ- 
 ence the world also. We sometimes mistake the amount of our 
 influence with worldly men, and think it small, when more exer- 
 tion would show it to be mighty. Let us bear with a steady and 
 uniform pressure against their vices, and urge upon them the 
 thoughts of death and the judgment, and the perdition that en- 
 sues, and we shall find afterward that we have controlled them. We 
 may rouse their impatience, however, at the moment when they are 
 coming under the power of our influence. I know the world would 
 lessen, and have always hated the Church's influence, while yet 
 they feel it and writhe under it, and have no shield to ward off its 
 point and power. But when they have uttered all their calumnies, 
 and flounced and bled for a time, still if the Church bear down 
 against their deeds of darkness they sin with heaviness. Virtually 
 they ask leave of the Church, and wait her consent at every step 
 they take in sin. I know they would not own this subjection to a 
 foreign influence, but this alters nothing. Every man must see 
 that no vice can be current against the Church's loud, and steady, 
 and prayerful testimony. They cannot even desert her sanctuary 
 till professors do, nor pollute her ordinances, nor trample on 
 her Sabbath, nor profane her Redeemer. When the Church 
 rose upon the theatre, and joined with decency to scowl it 
 out of use, it became from that moment a sinking concern, 
 and the stock can never rise again in the market till she will 
 send up to its obscenities, her proud, and gay and prayerless rep- 
 resentation. Oh, can she ever do this 1 Tell it not in Gath ! 
 Publish it not in the streets of Askelon ! And the game of whist, 
 and the dance, and every other licentious and ensnaring pastime, 
 will go down when professors disuse them. The Sabbath is com- 
 ing into more general repute through the Church's use of her in- 
 fluence and example in sustaining it. The cause of temperance 
 moved on briskly till it was discovered that the Church held in her 
 fellowship those who would drink the cup of devils, but has stayed 
 in its march till she can have time to entomb her inebriates. Fast 
 
A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 14*5 
 
 as any vice shall cease to have its abettors in the house of God it 
 must go down. And when the Church shall use her whole influ- 
 ence she will be able to control the manners of the world, and make 
 and rectify the public conscience. 
 
 And when all this is done< the people of God can do more, can 
 render men awakened, and convicted, and regenerate. Not that they 
 can do all this, or any part of it, without the agency of the Holy 
 Ghost, but God has appointed the means that he will bless, the 
 presentation of .his truth by the human voice, in that kindliness 
 of form which is applicable to the human affections. In this 
 work his people can be employed. They know the truth and can 
 watch for the kind moment of presenting it, and pray the God of 
 heaven to bless it and give it power. Thus have they the means 
 of subjecting to the Lord Jesus Christ all the men about them, and 
 are blameworthy if these souls quit the world un'sanctified. We 
 shall know at the last, and it would be well if we would know it 
 now, how high a bearing our present deportment has upon the 
 character and destiny of the ungodly. We shall see then, that the 
 quiet of conscience, and the self-complacency, and the calmness, 
 and content, that make the face of the unregenerate world so tran- 
 quil, is criminally associated with the Church's slumbers. Soon 
 as she awakes the world is anxious, and when the people of God 
 shall sleep no more, but make their whole influence be felt, then 
 may we safely predict that the world's slumbers are ended. 
 
 The revivals which marked eighteen hundred and thirty-one, as 
 the year of the right hand of the Lord, and will probably distin- 
 guish it till the judgment as of all the years that preceded it, the 
 Church's holiest, happiest year, are but the glorious result of the 
 Church awake to God's interest, and God graciously attentive to 
 hers. The Church has tried a little her influence, not to the ex- 
 tent she will hereafter, and she has seen the heavenly building rise 
 at every push she gave, and every shout she uttered. Now let 
 the Church, for once, throw off wholly her long-protracted paraly- 
 sis and she may urge on her conquests till earth's entire territory 
 shall be redeemed to the Lord Jesus. ^C 
 
 But there will be need that every child of God enlist under the 
 banner of the Lord Jesus. As they must all be sanctified they 
 will all need the discipline of laboring for God ; and can, then, all 
 aid in the song that sings the conquest ended, and the victory 
 won 1 And those whom God loves so little that he will permit 
 them in this age of action to plod on in the rearmost rank of the 
 
 19 
 
146 A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 
 
 sacramental host, may well doubt whether they shall have any 
 part in the 'shout of victory. 
 
 Sectarianism will die out as the millennial year comes in. 
 There will be union in this enterprise, "Ephraim shall not envy 
 Judah, and Judah shall not vex Ephraim." The watchmen shall 
 see eye to eye ; the grand benevolent institutions of the opening 
 and glorious age shall be ably sustained, and men will be furnished, 
 and money, and prayer, and faith, by means of which the Lord 
 Jesus will honor his people and reinstate himself in his own re pur- 
 chased empire. The bulwarks erected against the rising kingdom 
 will be sapped, and the foe be disheartened, and the barley-cake 
 will demolish the tents of Midian. The Church will have learned 
 how to make her influence felt in the moral pulsation of the world, 
 and the blessed results will continue down to the period of its dis- 
 solution. How happy are the men that are to come after us, and 
 how blessed the generation that shall watch the rising sun and 
 bask in the noon rays of the moral world. 
 
 In the mean time the people of God must consecrate to the con- 
 version of the world their money. Hardly need this have been 
 said. When men shall have devoted to the Lord Jesus Christ their 
 personal services and their influence, they will not withhold their 
 wealth. This gives them the means of reaching the hearts and 
 consciences to which they cannot extend a personal control. We 
 can here operate by proxy, and put in motion a moral machinery, 
 that may multiply our usefulness a thousand fold. There is wealth 
 enough in the Church, if the world should withhold its first and 
 last penny, to buy back to its Master- the government of the king- 
 dom. Nor can men or angels conceive of any other reason, why 
 it is there, but that the Lord hath need of it. It rusts and cankers 
 the piety that covets it, and the piety that keeps it. It is in every 
 such case a millstone about the believer's neck, and will hold him 
 from rising heavenward more than stripes, and chains, and dun- 
 geons. All experience agrees, that absolute beggary befits better 
 a heavenly mind than riches. The man of wealth then has but 
 one question to ask : how shall I employ my mammon 1 And 
 here the field is wide. Let him furnish the world a ministry 
 There must go with the Bible the living preacher. This is God's 
 appointed means. By the foolishness of preaching he will save 
 them that believe. The harvest may be so wide, that one cannot 
 personally explore its limits, and yet by his money he may fill the 
 field with reapers. Here, as in some of the bloody conflicts, when 
 life went out in a torrent, a single man can enlist and equip an 
 
-A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 147 
 
 army, and carry on a w*r long and desperate, till he shall shake 
 the pillars of the opposing empire. This is a crisis when one 
 shall chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight. The 
 Church has the means, and the world must not need a ministry, 
 and the gospel presents the motives that shall draw these means 
 forth. If they remain in the Church, they but nurse idolatry, and 
 thus corrupt her integrity, and mar her beauty. But riches asso- 
 ciated with benevolence, are like apples of gold in pictures of 
 silver. And they are occupied, and will be yet more extensively 
 in replenishing the ministry. The millennial year, if her star is 
 risen and her day has dawned, cannot roll up her sun to his zenith, 
 till our rich men have discovered this use for their money. And 
 when their wealth has made a ministry, it must sustain it. This 
 is a sordid world. Men will feed their destroyers rather than 
 their benefactors. Any profession can live better than the minis- 
 try of the reconciliation. Wfe must furnish and feed a hundred 
 thousand missionaries. And it is a blessing, and not a curse, that 
 the church has this service to do, has this outlet for her wealth. 
 It had begun to stagnate and breed pestilence, like the river of 
 Jordan, till a dead sea was furnished to drink up her waters. It is 
 a blessing to the older Churches that they have all this to do, it is 
 their honor and their salvation, and the wealthy Christians have 
 only to learn how, and they will do it, or Christians have not the 
 temper of Jesus Christ. 
 
 And we have not yet told the half they have to do. They must 
 fill the world with Bibles, reading in every language under heaven 
 the lessons of mercy to the tribes that sit in darkness, and the 
 same wealth must sustain the tract cause, and rain down the leaves 
 of the tree of life upon the sickly and perishing nations. They 
 must furnish to the ignorant and the poor Sabbath-schools, and 
 Bible-classes, and all the other means of making mind that the re- 
 novation of a world require. There is faith and not infidelity in 
 asserting that the millennium cannot come till the Church learns 
 better how to use her money, and it will not tarry when this lesson 
 is well learned. Ride on, blessed Lord Jesus, and assess thy 
 Church to the full amount of all the promises, and buy thee a 
 kingdom with it, and reign thou over us and our house for ever. 
 
 And then, beyond all this, the people of God must give him their 
 children, and a title to their whole house. What right have we 
 in our offspring, vying with the right that the Savior has 1 He 
 did not give us children, that we might worship and serve them 
 instead of him. He did not commit their souls to us, that we 
 
14*8 A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 
 
 might with them officer the hosts of his%nemies and furnish the 
 Church her bitterest foes from the house of her friends. He did 
 not send us children that we might absorb ourselves and all that 
 we have in their rearing, and thus place their interest at war with 
 the interests of his kingdom. He did not make them children of 
 prayer that they should mingle with the world, and profane the 
 privileges of his family to the furthering of their own undoing. 
 He had designs of mercy, and we should know it, and set our 
 hearts to gather them into his kingdom early, and have them ser- 
 vants of his Son soon as they become intelligent. And then we 
 can make them know that we have in our hearts and on our knees 
 devoted them to Jesus Christ, that we are rearing them for his 
 honor, that we have nothing that we can do with them, and they 
 nothing that they can do in the kingdom of God, if they will not 
 devote their hearts to him, and their all to him. We must teach 
 them to toil for him, and calculate for him, and live and die 'for 
 him. Till this is done, as we have not yet been accustomed to see 
 it in Christian families, the Lord Jesus will delay his coming. To 
 see the father of a family praying for the millenium, and the mother 
 laboring to evangelize the world, each eagerly grasping at intelli- 
 gence of new victories achieved by the Captain of their |alvation, 
 here there is promise, but if in their house there is no prospect of 
 a holy succession that can push on the enterprises of benevolence 
 when the parents are glorified, how dark it looks. And these 
 children, too, are fed and clad with the Church's money, and des- 
 tined, perhaps, to inherit a large estate and alienate it for ever from 
 God. To die the parent of such a family, is more to be deplored 
 than to die childless. If we would faithfully devote our all to the 
 Lord, it would not so happen with us ; he would sanctify our seed 
 and build us up a sure house for ever. 
 
 And not the children merely, but the whole house should be the 
 Lord's. There should be the fear of God in every department of 
 domestic life. That religion that is confined to the parlor, and 
 exhausts its last impulse while yet it has exerted no salutary con- 
 trol over the domestics of the family, which seems regardless of 
 the soul that toils on the farm, or drudges in the services of the 
 house, or waits at the door, a religion that leaves three-fourths of 
 a family heathen, will never evangelize the world. If we do not 
 pity the souls at our door, our philanthropy was never born in 
 heaven, and will do nothing to save the heathen who are sitting 
 in the region and shadow of death. Oh, there is something fatally 
 incongruous in such domestic arrangements, and it must be cured 
 
A LIKENESS TAKEN IN THE FIELD. 149 
 
 in the Church, or our example will make heathen at home faster 
 than our charities and prayers will save them abroad. 
 
 Here every householder in Christendom has a noble field for 
 labor. Let him carry the Bible into the apartment of his domes- 
 tics, if any he has in his employ, and pray there, and read them 
 the tidings of Zion's increase till every spirit that serves him, 
 shall wish to serve his Lord. Then let him look up the heathen 
 around him till there is not one within the circle of his influence, 
 and then let him become a missionary, and spread the gospel 
 through the wide world. 
 
SERMON X. 
 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 2 TIM. MI. 17. 
 
 That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. 
 
 THE context reads, "All Scripture is given by inspiration of 
 God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and 
 for instruction in righteousness ; that the man of God may be per- 
 fect, thoroughly furnished unto every good work." Thus God 
 has given the Christian minister all the instruction he needs to 
 qualify him for the work of the ministry, and has given to every 
 Christian the instruction he needs to qualify him to be a finished 
 man of God. 1 shall consider the text in this widest applica- 
 tion. If the perfection spoken of in the text be considered a 
 perfect freedom from sin, then we are taught that the truths of 
 God's word are adapted to promote this design, the question 
 still remaining unsettled, as it regards this text, whether the Chris- 
 tian will in any one case, attain to this perfection till death. Other 
 scriptures settle the point, that there is no man that liveth, and 
 doeth good, and sinneth not ; and that if any man saith that he 
 hath no sin, he is a liar. But there is a perfection that belongs to 
 believers in the present life, and to which it seems the apostle has 
 reference in the text. Every Christian must have on all the attri- 
 butes of the child of God. He cannot be wholly wanting as to 
 any one of the Christian graces. As the child born yesterday is 
 pronounced a perfect child, because he possesses every feature of 
 the man, although feeble, and exhibiting, perhaps, a very faint de- 
 velopment of some of the manly features; so every child of God 
 must have every feature of piety. He may not lack wholly either 
 faith, or hope, or love, or humility, or any other of the Christian 
 graces. One Christian grace may outgrow another, as in the hu- 
 man body we sometimes see a member that has taken uncommon 
 magnitude, while yet every other member may have place, though 
 not exact proportion. For instance, we have seen much zeal 
 where there was but little knowledge, too little to guide the man 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 151 
 
 the most safely through this wilderness. And we have seen, on 
 the other hand, abundant doctrinal knowledge, where there seem- 
 ed not sufficient zeal to kindle up devotion. And we have seen 
 professed believers who wanted wholly some grace of the Spirit, 
 making it manifest that God had not stamped his image on their 
 heart. That the Christian must be perfect, insomuch, that he 
 must more or less exhibit every grace of the gospel, I argue, 
 
 I. From the fact that every grace is the result of the operation of 
 the same Divine Spirit, whose work will ever be perfect. We are 
 assured that " the works of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, long- 
 suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." 
 All this catalogue of graces, then, will be found where the Spirit 
 of God is. He moulds every feature of the Christian man, and 
 will not leave his work unfinished. He generates the temper that 
 displays itself in every grace. The renovated heart in view of 
 God, loves, adores, and rejoices ; in view of sin, is sorrowful and 
 penitent ; in view of Christ, believes ; under injuries, is meek ; 
 under afflictions, patient ; at the sight of miseries, compassionate ; 
 and in view of its own polluted self, is humbled. Thus, the Holy 
 Ghost generates, at the first, in the heart of the believer, every 
 grace that will be there when he is ripened for glory. One and 
 another of these graces may grow as circumstances may demand 
 their increase, and finally, attain different degrees of strength and 
 vigor. They are sister affections, which the same Spirit will not 
 fail to generate in every heart he renews. Hence their harmony 
 and their oneness is sure. 
 
 There may be in men, by nature, the semblance of some of these 
 graces, which the Holy Spirit has not produced, and we shall see 
 in that case that some are wanting. It will be a morbid and mon- 
 strous religion. There will be zeal, perhaps, without humility ; 
 devotion, without benevolence ; there will be apparently a part 
 only of the new man, as if there should be born the limbs only of 
 a human body, or the head or the trunk while every limb was 
 wanting. Now we infer, from the fact that it is the Holy Ghost 
 that creates men anew in Christ Jesus, that there will be in the 
 kingdom of God no such monstrous production. It may not al- 
 ways be easy to settle the question, what extent of morbid growth 
 there may be found in the real believer, and where there are seen 
 deficiencies enough to decide the point that the work is not of God 
 There may be, where there is no grace, a tameness that may look 
 like humility and meekness ; and where there is grace, there may 
 
152 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 be a harshness that shall resemble the operations of unsubdued 
 nature. There may be a natural liberality in men who have no 
 pretensions to faith, that shall shame the remaining covetousness 
 of the believer. And still it is. true, that where the Spirit of God 
 operates, he turns the soul right in every respect. He leaves not 
 one new-born soul supremely selfish, or proud, or unbelieving, or 
 malevolent, or under the controlling influence of any one unholy 
 affection. 
 
 II. That the Christian will .exhibit every gospel grace, and be, 
 in this respect, perfect, we argue from the fact, that the moral ac- 
 tions of the renewed man take their character from the heart that has 
 been the subject of a radical renovation. While the heart was un- 
 sanctified every moral action was wholly sinful : " out of the same 
 fountain proceed not s.weet waters and bitter." And though, after 
 regeneration, the heart remains partially depraved, still its sancti- 
 fied character will operate in all the varied actions of life, and be 
 as sure to produce one Christian grace as another, and be sure to 
 produce them all when the occasion requires. Place the man, 
 whose heart has been renovated, where he must see iniquity, and 
 he will hate it ; where he must suffer abuse, and he will be meek ; 
 where he must see want, and he will be charitable ; where he comes 
 in contact with the .interests of others, and he will be honest, 
 where he must bear testimony, and he will be true. You will see 
 ready to operate, a holy nature, and the man will be, in every as- 
 pect, a Christian. I do not say that, on every point, he may not 
 sometimes disobey, but that he will more frequently, on every point, 
 obey. A good heart will habitually generate holy affections in all 
 the various attitudes in which the different moral objects may pre- 
 sent themselves^ The new man is formed after the image of God. 
 Christ is said to be in his people the hope of glory. Hence, so far 
 as the new nature operates, and it will operate habitually, it will 
 produce actions and affections of the same moral character, liou 
 may then look at the good man from any point, and you will see 
 him uniformly the man of God 
 
 II. We argue that the Christian will exhibit every grace of the 
 gospel, and will, in this respect, be the perfect man of God, from 
 the harmony of truth which is the medium of his sanctification. 
 " Sanctify them," said our Lord, in that prayer which he offered 
 for his people, " sanctify them through thy truth." As there is in 
 truth an infinitely extended harmony, no one truth clashing with 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 153 
 
 any other, so the character it shall form will have the same con- 
 sistency and harmony. The change of character produced at re- 
 generation through the medium of truth ; that same truth sustains 
 and renders fixed, when once established like itself, and every fea- 
 ture of that character will harmonize with every other, and with 
 all the others. 
 
 If truth so bears upon the mind, through the influence of the 
 Holy Ghost, as to render it humble, we are sure, from the nature 
 of truth, that it can never so bear upon the mind as to render it 
 proud. If truth is made to work repentance, neither the same 
 truth nor any other truth will so operate as to produce malice and 
 revenge. Truth will not produce opposite or clashing results. It 
 will not lead a man to love God and hate his neighbor , to love 
 his Bible and hate the Sabbath. It will not generate kindness to- 
 wards one class of men, and unkindness towards another. It will 
 not produce a spirit of praise and prayer, and yet a spirit of negli- 
 gence and sloth. As there is in truth throughout a perfect one- 
 ness, so will there be in the character that truth, in the hands of 
 the Holy Ghost, is made to produce. 
 
 In falsehood there is no harmony, nor in the character it forms. 
 We do not wonder to see every contradiction and absurdity in the 
 character of an ungodly man. He may be pr6digal in his expendi- 
 tures, and yet covetous ; may be mean, and yet proud ; may be 
 impudent, and yet impatient of contradiction ; may be a tyrant in 
 spirit, and yet a boisterous advocate of liberty. All these, and 
 any other contradiction and absurdity, may be in the man who has 
 subjected himself to the forming and the control of the father of 
 lies. But the believer, is rooted and grounded in the truth, and 
 truth is consistent and harmonious, and will make a character har- 
 monious like itself. 
 
 IV. We argue from the nature of the Christian graces, that they 
 must all be where one is. Where one is wanting the man of God 
 is not perfect. Love to God contains, in its very nature, hatred 
 to what is opposed to God. Opposed to God is sin, hence love to 
 him embraces hatred to sin, and repentance where sin has been 
 committed. Humility implies a deep sense of unworthiness, and 
 becomes meekness when abuse is offered. If we feel that we are 
 unworthy, and humility feels this, then the unworthy may not 
 promptly and passionately resist evil. If I have those low views 
 of myself, that I feel as if I deserved to be trodden down, that man 
 who treads me down shall not incur my deadly and implacable 
 20 
 
154 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 wrath. If I love to converse with God, and his people are like 
 him, I shall love to converse with them ; hence love to God and 
 Christian affection are twin exercises, and will both be where one 
 is. If I am benevolent, and I see my fellow-men suffer when my 
 money will relieve them, I shall be liberal ; hence benevolence and 
 Christian liberality are associate affections. 
 
 Now the same result will follow if we compare any two of the 
 Christian graces j they are all harmonious in their very nature. 
 They are all the spontaneous affections of the same renovated 
 heart, as it contemplates different objects. When moral beauty 
 is discovered, it is loved j when moral deformity, it is hated ; when 
 misery is seen, there is felt compassion and benevolence ; when 
 afflictions are endured, there is submission j when insults from 
 man, there is meekness ; when earth, with all its sins and miseries, 
 is contemplated, there is pain, and sorrow, and regret , when hea- 
 ven, in all its holiness and happiness, is thought of, there is appro- 
 bation and joy. Thus the Christian affections all harmonize. They 
 are branches of the same graft, through which circulate the same 
 juices and the same life stream j hence one cannot be without the 
 whole : unless we can suppose, with regard to some grace, a total 
 remove from the objects that can call it into action. 
 
 V. We shall come to the same result if we observe how God, in 
 his word, characterizes his people. He designates them by one 
 Christian grace, and applies to them his largest promises under 
 this limited appellation. Abraham is spoken of as one that feared 
 God, and the largest promise is made to him : on another occasion 
 he is said to have believed God, and it, his faith, was accounted to 
 him for righteousness. Said the Psalmist, " how great is thy 
 goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee." But 
 if the fear of God, and faith in him, did not imply love to him, and 
 all the other Christian graces, then they would have been all named 
 in appropriating the promise. 
 
 We read that " the angel of the Lord encampeth round about 
 them that fear him, and delivereth them." " There is no want to 
 them that fear him." "He will fulfil the desire of them that fear 
 him, he will hear their cry, and will save them." Thus, to those who 
 possess one of the Christian graces are made his largest promises, 
 and this could not be if the possession of this grace did not imply 
 the possession of all the others. 
 
 We find the same is said of them that love God. " The Lord 
 preserveth those that love him. . He will show mercy to thousands 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 155 
 
 of them that love him, and keep his commandments. All things 
 work together for good to them that love, him." " Eye hath not 
 seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man 
 the things that God hath prepared for them that love him." All 
 this could not be, were it not true that those who love him, fear 
 him and trust him, and submit to him ; or the lack of one Christian 
 grace cuts off from heaven, and from the presence and everlasting 
 favor of God. 
 
 The righteous, it is promised, shall be glad in the Lord, and all 
 the upright in heart shall glory. " Light is sown for the righteous, 
 and gladness for the upright in heart." Thus all that could be de- 
 sired is promised to the righteous. 
 
 So those who trust in the Lord may hope for his largest bene- 
 fits. " Let those that put their trust in thee rejoice, let them 
 ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them." 
 
 So to faith the whole is promised. " Believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ and thou shalt be saved." 
 
 To the humble there opens the same field of promise. " God 
 forgetteth not the cry of the humble. By humility and the fear 
 of the Lord, are riches, and honor, and life. Whosoever shall 
 humble himself as a little child, the same shall be greatest in the 
 kingdom of God. Whosoever humbleth himself shall be exalted." 
 
 We might travel thus through the Christian graces, and show 
 that God characterizes his people by any one of them, and promis- 
 es all the comforts of this life, and the joys of heaven, to the 
 person who possesses any one of them. But this could not be if 
 the possession of tme did not imply the possession of all. 
 
 By turning to the threatenings we shall see, on the other hand, 
 that the want of any one Christian grace cuts off the soul from 
 the favor of God. " Wo to him that striveth with his Maker :" 
 here the want of a spirit of submission is woful. The want of a 
 spirit of trust is ruinous : " Cursed is the man that trusteth in man, 
 and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the 
 Lord." The want of humility is ruinous : " The proud he know- 
 eth afar off." "The Lord shall cut off the tongue that speaketh 
 proud things." " Every one that is proud is an abomination." 
 " The day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is 
 proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up, and he shall 
 be brought low." Thus we might proceed through all the list of 
 threatenings. 
 
 Now compare these two views, and they will furnish an argu- 
 ment of great strength. God's richest blessings are promised to 
 
156 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 the possession of one Christian grace, and his curse denounced 
 against those who lack any one. Now, if it cannot be true that 
 the good man shall live, because he has one attribute of life, and 
 die, because he lacks one, then he that has one has the whole. He 
 cannot enter into life because he fears God, and be lost because 
 he is proud. Hence every Christian has all the Christian graces. 
 They are all connected, all proceed from the same renewed tem- 
 per, are wrought by the same sanctifying Spirit, are nourished 
 by the same code of truth, and lead, each one, all the others in its 
 train. 
 
 VI. The experience of believers will prove to them that there is 
 this indissoluble connection between the Christian graces. They 
 have all known by happy, as well as by unhappy experience, that 
 if one grace flourish all the other graces flourish with it, and if one 
 withers all wither together. 
 
 Let us first look at the brighter side of the picture. The Christian 
 is placed where one of the graces has special opportunity to grow 
 and flourish. He is seen to grow in the love of God. He in- 
 creases in the knowledge of God, has admiring apprehension of 
 his character, is absorbed in the wondrous views of his greatness 
 and goodness, and is in the process of being imbued with his 
 image from glory to glory. He now increases in the love of his 
 children. His repentance now for sin is more deep and pungent 
 than in times past. He increases now in humility, in the fear of 
 God, in a spirit of prayer, in heavenly-mindedness, and, conse- 
 quently, in the hope of glory. If afflicted, he is now submissive 
 and patient ; if abused by men, he is now meek and forgiving. At 
 every point you will see improvement, if you see improvement in 
 one point. Nourish one branch and all the branches thrive, and 
 show signs of increasing health and vigor. There is, probably, 
 no believer who has not been sensible of these truths from his 
 own experience, nor has he ever been sensible of the contrary. 
 He has not known the time when one grace flourished, and the 
 others decayed. He cannot remember when he became more 
 humble, and, at the same time, less prayerful ; more attached to 
 God, and less attached to his people ; more heavenly-minded, and 
 less patient and submissive. 
 
 If there has been anything that looked like this in the experi- 
 ence of the believer, it cannot be difficult to detect the fallacy. 
 That was not real humility, but its counterfeit, that flourished 
 while the man was becoming less prayerful. The very views of 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 157 
 
 God and of sin that would humble him, would also lead him to* 
 prayer. Nor was that genuine love of God that increased while 
 he grew cold towards his children, where is seen his image, and 
 where beams his likeness. No j the Christian has never been 
 sensible of the decay of one grace in consequence of the increase 
 of another. 
 
 But the other view of this subject will not fail to accord with 
 the experience of all the family of God. They all knew when one 
 grace withered, all the graces withered with it. They knew when 
 worldliness increased, and it cast the frost of death over every 
 grace ; " they grew cold in prayer, forsook the people of God," 
 were proud and impatient, and vain and covetous. They remem- 
 ber when they indulged some sin, and it immediately disqualified 
 for duty. They were ashamed to go to their closets when they 
 had sinned ; they were ashamed to attend ordinances, and perhaps 
 dare not read their Bibles. " They thought on God and were 
 troubled, and their faces were ashamed." 
 
 They felt the wound they had given their piety in every part, 
 lost their confidence as the children of God, their hope sunk, 
 and their everlasting prospects were clouded over. Now why 
 need every grace wither because in one point a wound was inflict- 
 ed; why did there circulate a poisonous fluid through all the 
 branches of the plant of righteousness, when only at a single 
 point there was inserted the sting of death, unless it be that all the 
 parts of the new man are connected, draw their nourishment from 
 the same fountain, and are fed, if I may keep up the appropriate 
 figure, from the same circulating medium. If we did not know 
 that the head and the arm are united, still when we find that on 
 amputating the head the arm grows cold, we are led to believe that 
 there was such a union, and that one member has died by ampu- 
 tating the other. 
 
 So the Christian graces all spring into being by the same im- 
 pulse, and are nourished and kept in vigor together, or together 
 wither and decay, as every believer's experience, can testify. I 
 close at present with a single 
 
 REMARK 
 
 How much of the wisdom and goodness of God is seen in the 
 renewed man. With propriety is the work of creating the heart 
 anew styled the new creation. It may well be compared to the 
 work of building a world. To see a moral being filled with un- 
 governable passions, creating in his bosom perpetual war, resem- 
 
 
158 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 Wing the troubled sea, which cannot rest, whose waters continually 
 cast up mire and dirt, so formed anew, that the war and the confu- 
 sion all subside, and every affection harmonizing with every other ; 
 how does a work like this display the glory of God ' In creating 
 man at the first there was nothing in the clay to oppose the wishes 
 of the potter ; but in creating man anew there is a nature produc- 
 ed which is at war with the nature renewed. The whole current 
 of the soul is turned. Probably to no single work that ever God 
 did, have the angels looked with more admiring praise than to this 
 new creation. Here God appears in all his wisdom, and greatness, 
 and goodness. Here are the finishing strokes of his power and his 
 skill. And, doubtless, some of the sweetest songs in heaven will 
 dwelU eternally on the grand theme of the new-birth. 
 
SERMON XL 
 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. NO. n. 
 
 2 TIM. III. 17. 
 
 That the mail of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. 
 
 1 PROPOSED in the preceding sermon as my object to show that 
 the Christian must exhibit all the graces of the gospel ; 1 attempt- 
 ed to prove the doctrine from the fact,, that the Christian graces 
 are all the operations of the same Divine Spirit ; from the fact that 
 all the moral affections of the new man, take their character from 
 the renewed heart ; from the harmony of truth which is the grand 
 medium of sanctification ; from their very nature ; from the manner 
 in which God in his word characterizes his people ; and from the 
 experience of believers. I then concluded with one remark, How 
 much of the wisdom and goodness of God is seen in the renewed 
 man. I now proceed to remark 
 
 2 The subject will help us to solve the question whether any 
 one of the Christian graces, will certainly take existence prior to any 
 other one. It has been contended by some that repentance, and by 
 others that/azVA, will be, without fail, the first Christian grace. But 
 I see not, if the view we have taken be correct, why any other 
 grace as readily as these, may not be first in order of time. No 
 one will precede the rest by any long space of time. That exer- 
 cise will be first which has the first opportunity to utter itself. 
 Suppose the man born again in some paroxysm of distress ; who 
 can say that he may not put forth submission previously to either 
 repentance or faith 1 Or suppose him to be operated upon by the 
 Spirit of God, at the moment when he is listening to some lucid 
 description of the Divine character, how do we know that he may 
 not love that character previously to his having that view of the 
 Divine law, and of his own heart, which can produce repentance 1 
 and so of any other exercise of the new heart. If among all the 
 Christian graces there is a perfect harmony, if they all spring up 
 together, and together flourish, or together decay, how needless 
 the dispute, which appears first ; how impossible to know, and how 
 unimportant if we did know ! It is quite sufficient that we be as- 
 sured, that they must all appear, must all appear early, must all 
 
160 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 flourish together, and all reach their consummation in the kingdom 
 of God. 
 
 3. The subject affords us an excellent criterion of character, by 
 which, would we be honest, it would seem easy to decide whether 
 we love God. If it may not be easy to decide that we have any 
 particular grace, still it would seem not difficult, with a moderate 
 share of wisdom, to decide, that we have, or have not, one in the 
 whole catalogue of graces. And when the point is settled that we 
 have one, it is certain that we have the whole. In the inquiry, 
 then, whether we have faith, if we do not easily succeed, let us in- 
 quire whether we fear God, or whether we have a spirit of prayer, 
 or whether we have meekness or humility. If, however, we have 
 to go almost the whole round before we fix on any one Christian 
 grace, the marks of which appear in our character, we shall have 
 great occasion to fear that we have not the faith of the gospel. If 
 we have that faith we shall have added all the graces which con- 
 stitute the new man. We shall be humble because we are sinners, 
 we shall be meek, because conscious that we often offend, 
 we shall be thankful, and benevolent, we shall have, in more or 
 less vigor, all the graces of the Spirit. There will be all the parts 
 of the new man. Here, then, we have a rule, plain and simple, by 
 which to try our characters. And if we would rigorously judge 
 ourselves we should not be judged. 
 
 4. As a thought somewhat distinct from the last, I would sug 
 gest that if any one of the Christian graces is wholly wanting it is 
 evidence conclusive that that person cannot possess the grace of 
 God. If Christ be formed in us the hope of glory, his image on 
 the -heart must be perfect, no limb, no member wanting, and if all 
 be right in the heart, the same will appear in the life. 
 
 Fix, then, your eye on the man, who in one point is always 
 wrong, whatever is true on other points, and rest assured that no 
 work of supererogation, as to other subjects, can make up the de- 
 ficiency and awaken the hope that he is born of God. Can he 
 never forgive 1 Will any offence committed against him, or con- 
 ceived to be committed, awaken perpetual ill-will 1 Then a voice 
 from heaven could not satisfy us that that man is born of God. Is 
 he never benevolent 1 Can no occasion move him to be generous 
 without the hope of reward 1 Then is it impossible that he should be 
 a child of God 1 Does he uniformly dislike the humble, conscien. 
 tious believer 1 Does he always select his associates and his con- 
 fidents from the men of the world 1 Then is it certain that he 
 does not love the brother whom he hath seen ; and how can he love 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 161 
 
 God whom he hath not seen 1 There must be no particular in 
 which the man of God does not obey his Lord, else being unfaith- 
 ful in the least, he is unfaithful also in much. I do not say that 
 at times the good man may not transgress any law, but I say, 
 without the fear that the last day will pronounce me a liar, that at 
 times the child of God obeys every law, and that he, who on one 
 point is always wrong, is not born of God. Hereby do we know 
 that we love him if we keep his commandments. He that saith, I 
 know him, and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the 
 truth is not in him. 
 
 Now, to make this matter obvious, suppose a servant was obe- 
 dient in every thing but one, but in that one would never obey, is 
 he subject or is he not to the authority of his master 1 Will he 
 not be pronounced a disobedient servant I Now it is just so m 
 the things of God. There cannot be one law, suppose that law 
 the least important, if you please, in the whole list of precepts, 
 that the child of God never will obey. God has no such son or 
 servant in his house. Judging by this rule, how many who pro- 
 fess godliness must come short of the kingdom of God. How 
 many are there who were never humble for a single moment in all 
 their life ! How many were never seen to do a benevolent act ! 
 How many never once possessed a spirit of prayer ! How many 
 have always stood aloof from the disciples of the Lord Jesus ! 
 How many were never for an hour heavenly-minded ! How many 
 never knew how to forgive ! How many have uniformly quarrelled 
 with some doctrine of the Bible ! How many have never for an 
 hour ceased to love the world, and the things of the world, making 
 it. manifest that the love of the Father is not in them. 
 
 If there is no monstrous Christian, as has been attempted 
 to be proved, but a perfect harmony among the Christian graces, 
 I shall not need to make an apology for asserting that where 
 any one of them is never seen, there none of them has ever 
 been. Christ will receive none to heaven, who have a part only of 
 his image. We are to follow him in the regeneration, else, when 
 he comes in the glory of the Father, and of the holy angels, we shall 
 be shut out of his kingdom. And we are to follow him wholly. 
 
 Brethren, I do not believe that I ever urged a truth more im- 
 portant than this. I wish to try my own character by it, and I 
 wish you may all make the same use of it. Are we, at least some- 
 times, in the exercise of every Christian grace 1 Is there any 
 point where it can be said, that we never obey 1 If there is, then 
 21 
 
162 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 are we in the gall of bitterness and under the bonds of iniquity, 
 sure as the truth of God will stand. 
 
 5. The subject should caution us not to offend in one point, lest 
 the evil be felt in all points. I mean by this remark simply, that 
 we should be afraid to cease for a moment, when the occasion re- 
 quires, to exercise every Christian grace, lest all the graces imme- 
 diately suffer. We are careful not to wound the smallest member 
 of the body, though we could spare it without much damage, be- 
 cause it is materially connected with all the other parts of the 
 body. It may cost one his life to bruise his smallest finger. Now 
 let the simile apply. Would you esteem it a great calamity to be 
 cold in your affections towards God, then be very cautious not to 
 let your love cool towards his people, for no sooner will you feel 
 cold towards them, than you will begin to cool in your affections 
 towards God. Would you not lose a spirit of prayer, then be care- 
 ful not to become worldly-minded, for when you c"ease to be 
 heavenly-minded, you will cease to have often an errand to your 
 closet. Do you prize highly your Christian hope, and would not 
 part with it for a world, then be afraid to let any one grace cease 
 to be exercised, for your hope will languish with it. 
 
 You cannot keep the body in a healthy state, and suffer one 
 member to mortify, nor the soul, if you suffer one grace to lan- 
 guish. It would be a good question every night, Has any part of 
 the new man been injured to-day \ And if so, how can the wound 
 be healed 1 Have I ceased to watch 1 Have I indulged pride, or 
 envy, or anger 1 Have I ceased to be prayerful and heavenly- 
 minded 1 Have I resisted evil, when I should have been meek 1 
 Have I rebelled, when I should have submitted 1 Have I been 
 overcome of evil, when I should have overcome evil with good 1 
 Thus should this awful subject awaken our keenest anxieties, lest 
 before we have realized the consequence, we hazard the health of 
 the inner man, and pierce ourselves through with many sorrows. 
 
 6. The subject gives us a view of the whole matter of backsliding. 
 We see how it begins : the Christian, in an hour of temptation, 
 lets down his watch, and ceases to exercise one of the Christian 
 graces. Say he is accused, and instead of being meek, returns evil 
 for evil, wrath for wrath ; the evening comes, and he has no spirit 
 of prayer ; the morning comes, and he loses sight of heaven, and 
 becomes worldly-minded. He ceases to have a relish for the com- 
 pany and conversation of believers, becomes proud and covetous, 
 and finally loses almost all his relish for divine things. The evil 
 began at a point, but has widened in its course. It seemed a small 
 
THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 163 
 
 matter at the first, but is now a wide-spread and tremendous 
 calamity. The man had better have suffered any calamity than have 
 permitted his passions to rise. He did not realize, and could not, 
 how dire was the plague, whose infection he inhaled. So we* have 
 seen the finger wounded by a thorn, and in a few hours the whole 
 nervous system was in torture, and often death was the result. 
 Ah ! how rich is that grace that saves the backslider from final 
 and fearful apostacy ! 
 
 We have sometimes wondered to see how in every point the 
 backslider is gone away from the path of life ; you cannot name 
 the case or the occasion where he acts out his former character. 
 He is worldly and prayerless, does not love the people of God, is 
 proud, and negligent, and passionate, and envious, and selfish he 
 is all wrong. Now if I have given a correct view of this subject, 
 we are to expect it to be so. The Christian graces are all con- 
 nected, must flourish or decay together. Hence he cannot go 
 wide astray in one particular, and yet in other respects hold his 
 former standing. One branch of the plant of righteousness was 
 wounded, and the whole withered. And should it ever revive, the 
 reform must begin as the decay did, at a point, and become gen- 
 eral. The man must be converted again as at the first, by the 
 same power, and by the same means by which he was then brought 
 out of darkness into marvellous light. So Peter after his fall 
 needed a new conversion, and would then be able to strengthen 
 his brethren. Hence prays the believer, as he begins to recover, 
 "restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with 
 thy free Spirit." "Tell me, oh thou whom my soul loveth, where 
 thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon, for 
 why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy 
 companions." 
 
 7. The subject will teach us how to deal with believers in dis- 
 tress. We must lead them to inquire, where and when they 
 began to offend, and of course to suffer. There the remedy must 
 be applied. We should not undertake to cure the body of pain, 
 to the neglect of some wounded member, where the whole evil 
 began. We should at least attend to the part affected, that we 
 might dry up the source of corruption, and thus lay the foundation 
 for returning health. 
 
 So the distressed backslider must discover where he received 
 his first injury. What sin did he commit, what lust did he in- 
 dulge, what duty did he neglect, when the darkness and distress 
 which he now suffers came upon him I Here he must repent and 
 
164 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 do his first works. Howler difficult the duty, or great the self- 
 denial, he must tread back his guilty steps, or may abandon the 
 hope that his soul can be restored to health and vigor. 
 
 God does not cast his people into darkness wantonly, does not 
 withdraw the Divine influences without occasion. If he hides his 
 face it is because he sees some sin to rebuke. There is some 
 point where there is a renewal of the old controversy, and God 
 resolves that we shall walk in darkness, till we are reconciled to 
 him. Would you then do good to the backsliding believer, urge 
 him to inquiry and repentance relative to the first acts of his de- 
 cline. What was it that first offended God 1 When did he first 
 refuse to hear your prayers 1 When did he cloud your hopes 1. 
 When had you first a cold and comfortless communion'? And 
 what sin was it that shut you out from your heavenly Father's 
 presence 1. Where on the new man was the wound inflicted that 
 has rankled till the disease has become general 1 On this spot 
 keep the eye fixed, and here let every effort be made to restore 
 health. Else expect not that God will uncover to you the beauties 
 of his face. 
 
 8. If it should seem a calamity that the believer should be so 
 extensively exposed, let it not be forgotten that he is just so ex- 
 tensively qualified to receive good. As he can be injured through 
 the medium of any one Christian grace ; so through the medium 
 of any one ne may receive quickening and joy. As in a wide and 
 expanded relationship, we are greatly liable to be wounded and 
 pained, so through the same medium we have multiplied advan- 
 tages for joy and rejoicing. 
 
 The broader our sympathies, the broader our sufferings and con- 
 solations. So the senses, spread all over the human body, and 
 thus expose a broad surface to the infliction of wounds and the 
 endurance of pains, are also the broad inlets of pleasure. So in 
 the new man there is kept up the same analogy of providence. It 
 is not, however, in any of these cases to be viewed as a calamity. 
 If the believer can be wounded at many points, so at many points 
 can he receive nourishment and joy. Let him cultivate industri- 
 ously any of the Christian graces, and the whole will thrive. For 
 instance let him aim at maintaining constantly a spirit of prayer, 
 and we have very little doubt that he will find all the Christian 
 graces invigorated. Let him cultivate a spirit of benevolence, and 
 he will give the new man an impulse in every limb and member. 
 Let him fan the flame of Christian love, and it will kindle a fire 
 that will quicken the whole pulsation of spiritual life. So if you 
 
THE PERFECTED QOOQ MAN, 165 
 
 water a single root of the tree or plant, that is perishing .with 
 drought, you refresh every branch, and extend a benign influence 
 to the smallest fibre. The Christian, then, who is sensible, I do 
 not say of having grossly backslidden, but of not being in that 
 state of spiritual health and growth that is desirable, may com- 
 mence reform at any point he pleases. If he will begin this eve- 
 ning to nourish any one Christian grace, he will find himself re- 
 vived throughout. Collect about you your Christian brethren, 
 realize your -relation to them, open your mind freely to them on 
 the great subject of your spiritual brotherhood, on the place and 
 the pleasures of your future rest, and draw more closely the bond 
 of love, repeat the experiment every week, or if possible every day 
 till you feel that you cannot live without them, and cannot be sepa- 
 rated from them, that their God is your God, their Savior your Sav- 
 ior, 'their Comforter yours, and their everlasting home the place of 
 your rest. By the time you have accomplished all this, if there is 
 any such relationship as I have endeavored to establish among the 
 Christian graces, you will find yourselves revived throughout. You 
 will feel a more ardent love to God, you will have a spirit of prayer, 
 you will be humbled for sin, you will exercise an expanded benevo- 
 lence, and your mind will become heavenly and happy. Or if you 
 please, cultivate a spirit of prayer, go many times a day to your 
 closet, till you find yourself living near the throne, and all the 
 good effects predicted in the other case will immediately follow. 
 Before you call God will answer, and while they are yet speaking 
 he will hear, open your mouth wide and he will fill it ; make a 
 large request, and unmeasured blessings will be granted you. 
 
 Think not, however, to neglect repentance ; this must begin and 
 keep pace with every reform 5 if you have grown negligent in any 
 Christian duty, it is a great sin, and there must be deep repent- 
 ance. The order of your restoration invariably must be, " repent 
 and do your first works." This is beginning where your decay 
 commenced, and where God will infallibly meet with you and bless 
 you. He has thus promised, and has a thousand and a thousand 
 times fulfilled this promise. Break up the fallow ground, sow not 
 among the thorns. 
 
 FINALLY. We see how we are to set about cultivating true and 
 extensive peace. Men must be at peace with themselves, by hav- 
 ing all the Christian graces in exercise, else they can neither be 
 at peace with God or man. Let every man have war within, and 
 peace in society is impossible. With ungodly men there is al- 
 
166 THE PERFECTED GOOD MAN. 
 
 ways a war in their own bosoms : now let the few believers, who are 
 associated with them, be in a state of coldness, or of backsliding, 
 and then hope to bind the whole mass together by the bond of 
 love, and you might as well hope to build another world. You 
 may blame one, and another, and another, as the breakers of the 
 peace, but peace will not be restored, till each one blames himself, 
 and begins a reformation at home. Men may exercise their wis- 
 dom in attempts to make peace without purity. But the wisdom 
 that is from above is first pure and then peaceable. The promise is, 
 " If ye walk in my statutes, I will give peace in your land." Said 
 one whom God inspired, " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace 
 whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee." 
 
 He then that would be a peace-maker in these times of rebuke 
 and blasphemy, must aim to awaken religious feeling, and raise 
 the standard of piety. Bring men together, who have forsaken 
 God, who have neglected prayer, who have become supremely at- 
 tached to the present world, and attempt to form between them 
 some amiable compact, and you might as well yoke the lightning 
 and the thunder to the summer breeze and bid them go forth in 
 calmness and serenity. 
 
 
SERMON XII. 
 
 
 
 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 JAMES I. 15. 
 
 Sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death. 
 
 WE dwell in a world where nothing reaches maturity in a mo- 
 ment. Things begin to be, they grow, and they ripen. The acorn 
 becomes a wide-spread oak ; the infant a man ; and the little rivu- 
 let a majestic stream, that widens its bed, and deepens its channel, 
 as it urges its way to the ocean. Hence there is nothing to which 
 we are more accustomed than growth. There is the infancy, the 
 middle age, and the maturity of all created things. 
 
 And it would seem that the same is true of things to which we 
 cannot apply the term created. Holiness is begun, it progresses, 
 and is perfected. Character has its embryo, its progress, and its 
 completion. And in the text sin is spoken of as capable of being 
 finished, and then its fruit is death. And yet sin, as the term is 
 used in the text, is figurative. Every sin is a perfect whole, as 
 soon as it has a being ; a wrong that every enlightened conscience 
 must disapprove, and which God condemns. But sinful habit or 
 character, which no doubt the apostle intends by the term, may 
 have its beginning, its growth, and its harvest. And the natural 
 fruit is death. But character or habit, in order to come to this 
 disastrous result, must attach themselves to moral intelligence. 
 
 Hence the text will lead us to speak of men who mature a wick- 
 ed character and thus ensure the death spoken of, which can be no 
 other but the future misery of the soul. " The wages of sin is 
 death." Life is the result of obedience, death of disobedience. 
 This is the unchangeable decree of God. If men will violate the 
 commands of God and mature a character that he disapproves, he 
 will shut them from his presence ; and this is death. He may stop 
 them before their iniquities are ripe, 'as the rock rolling from the 
 mountain's top, may meet some mighty barrier that can resist its 
 impulse, which else will plough its path to the glen, or imbed it- 
 self in the bosom of the stream. The growth of sin at first may 
 be slow, but it ripens fast as it reaches towards the time of harvest 
 
168 INIQUITY FINISHED, 
 
 When men have begun to disobey the law of God, and are casting 
 off the terrors of his threatenings, and conscience becomes silenc- 
 ed, a desperate character, unless the grace of God prevent, can 
 soon be matured. Many a lad in our streets has set out in the ca- 
 reer of sin, and become a daring young man, but had yet no idea, 
 where and how soon his career would terminate. At first, perhaps, 
 his way seemed pleasant. He slid down the smooth decliyity, 
 without obstruction and without alarm. Had he dreamed of the 
 ruin that yawned before him, he would have trembled in the outset. 
 But he saw not the end of his course, till he felt the fall that crush- 
 ed him to powder. Let me illustrate the subject. 
 
 I. The game of chance finds its maturity in the abandoned gambler, 
 No matter with what materials or in what circumstances the habit 
 commences. The transition from the game less criminal, institut- 
 ed for mere amusement, to that where oaths are uttered, and fraud 
 practised, and wealth squandered, and character staked, is easy and 
 convenient. The practice should be to a thinking mind frightful, 
 were there no danger of the habit being fixed. The waste of time 
 is an obvious evil. No man of sense will say, that the time spent 
 at the game is well spent. Is the mind enlarged 1 Is the heart 
 improved 1 Are the habits rectified 1 Is the man made holier or 
 happier at the game 1 Do we see the gambler useful to his coun- 
 try, kind to his family, a man of science, industry, and virtue 1 Is 
 he spoken of as the benefactor of his fellow-men, and his death la- 
 mented as a light put out, a blessing withdrawn 1 Then why as- 
 sert his time well spent 1 While he neither blesses himself nor 
 others, is he answering the end of his being 1 Is he living to any 
 of those purposes for which God created him 1 Then his time is 
 lost. And have we time to lose 1 An immortal being on his way 
 to the grave, and much to do in preparation for eternity has he 
 time to lose 1 Has God assigned us a longer probation than was 
 necessary ? And if not, should any of its hours be lost 1 And if 
 lost,, will not some of our work remain undone when the Master 
 comes 1 
 
 But loss of time is not the whole evil of the game ; the mind is 
 dissipated. Who ever made the experiment and did not find him- 
 self, both at the time and afterward, less qualified for serious 
 thought and reflection 1 Suppose there are neither oaths nor cur- 
 ses at the game, does the little, the trifling, and the silly conversa- 
 tion of the hour enlarge or discipline the mind! Do noble senti- 
 ments spring up, and does manly and dignified thought originate 
 
INIQUITY FINISHED. 169 
 
 with the cast of the die, or the shuffle of the card 1 Does the man 
 rise with a purer intellect, or one less pure, from the gaming-table"? 
 fs serious business more welcome, or less sol Are the domestic 
 duties better discharged afterwards, or worse ?. Is the man more 
 or less fitted for manly occupations 1 On all these questions there 
 can be but one opinion. 
 
 No^can it be denied that the mind is enfeebled and contracted, 
 as well as dissipated, by being employed at the game. Be it allow- 
 ed, and even this may be disputed, that it comports with the levity 
 and thoughtlessness of childhood, still very illy does it quadrate 
 with the sedateness of the father and the husband. The man must 
 feel, who lends a hand to the game, that he lays aside what is ve- 
 nerable in years and gray hairs, and puts on the child. He be- 
 comes a " little being" and should not be caught thus letting down 
 his dignity. 
 
 Let any one approach unseen to the place of the game and tal^e 
 down the jumble of language and read it to the parties, and if they 
 did not feel little before, they would feel little now. I know that 
 men may have practised the game for mere amusement and escaped 
 the ruin that impends, but multitudes have been less happy, and 
 have gone this way to irrecoverable ruin. 
 
 It is a sin which strangely bewitches the mind, which gathers 
 strength by indulgence, and which, when finished in the confirmed 
 gambler, bringeth forth death. 
 
 His character is a compound of the basest selfishness, cool ma- 
 lignity, subtle impiety, fell desperation, and unrestrained appetite. 
 And let it be finished, and the man is ready for fraud, robbery, 
 murder, suicide, treason, or any other species of crime, and then 
 the fruit is death. Else tell me when the confirmed gambler was 
 reformed, and became either a Christian or a decent m$^|. Should 
 you be able to bring forward one case, I can place beside it a hun- 
 dred where the result was tragical. The instance you adduce, 
 does but prove that God is stronger than the strong man armed, 
 and can tame the heart at any stage of its desperation. But the 
 hope in such a case is a spider's web. " Sin, when it is finished, 
 bringeth forth death." 
 
 II. Indulgence in the cup is matured in the sot. Few, when they 
 began to look upon the cup, and tasted its inebriating contents, 
 intended to yield themselves victims to the destroyer. They drank, 
 at first, to be sociable, or, it may be, to promote health, or exon- 
 erate themselves from the charge of singularity. Not a world 
 22 
 
170 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 would tempt them to excess, nor many worlds induce them to draw 
 upon themselves the reputation of intemperance ; but ere they have 
 thought of tljeir danger, they are caught in the snare. But when 
 once overtaken, still they intend to proceed no farther. They can 
 and they will govern their appetite, and have only their occasional 
 scenes of indulgence. 
 
 Meanwhile conscience has given the alarm, and is hushed and 
 silenced. False sentiments are embraced, tending to lessen the 
 sin, or hide its progress, or neutralize its consequences. By de- 
 grees the heart is hardened, the conscience seared, the habit con- 
 firmed, temptations multiplied, and the man is seen to yield up 
 himself a confirmed inebriate. This character of him goes out, 
 and he is seen to throw off the restraint of public sentiment, that 
 last hold that society had up9n him. His credit is gone, the peace 
 of his home is destroyed, his family is desolate, his friends with- 
 draw from him, he must shrink from what little shred of reputation 
 remains, from what of respect is still shown him, from any office 
 he fills, from the hopes that have buoyed up his spirits, and from 
 the whole of that enchanting vision that opened before him. 
 
 Some infidel doctrine is suggested by the unsanctified heart to 
 prop his sinking steps. The apprehensions of futurity are gone, 
 and now the last ligature is sundered that bound him to comfort 
 and character, and hope, and heaven ; and he cares not, at length, 
 if he is seen reeling through the streets a confirmed drunkard ! 
 Now his health withers, and he sees the grave yawning, and hell 
 moving beneath. Now, did he intend at first that the habit of tip- 
 pling should become thus matured! Did he calculate on this total 
 abandonment of comfort, of character, of credit, of confidence, of 
 hope, of life, and of heaven 1 But his sin is finished. He is snared 
 in the woA of his own hands, and, it may be, he ends his days as 
 a suicide or a felon. Or, if otherwise, he comes to a loathsome 
 and deserted death-bed, and sees his poor life going out, while 
 there dawns on him no hope of heaven, nor comes to his help any 
 arm that can snatch him from the jaws of death, or hold him back 
 from the worm that shall never die, and the fire that shall never be 
 quenched. His sin is finished ; " and' sin," as we have said, 
 u when it is finished bringeth forth death." 
 
 III. Covetousness finds its maturity in the swindler , the thief, and 
 the robber. This, in its beginning, can scarcely be distinguished 
 from a virtue. It has on the face of prudence and economy, and 
 can be so impudent as to claim the Bible as its advocate. " If any 
 
 
INIQUITY FINISHED. 171 
 
 provide not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, 
 he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." Thus sup- 
 ported, it claims the countenance of the wise and the good, and 
 seems removed but a single hair's breadth from a virtue. 
 
 Still God denounces it as a vice. It is an undue desire of wealth, 
 and becomes, with the slightest temptation, a wish to enjoy what 
 belongs to another. This vice, in its early stages, may resort to 
 means that are lawful industry, and a close but not generally re- 
 puted dishonest manner of dealing. By degrees, however, there 
 is adopted a loose but licensed swindling. The creditor is kept 
 out of his due ; the hireling of his wages; and the poor of their 
 supply. The article vended has its price advanced ; and what is 
 purchased, proportionably depressed. Advantage is taken of the 
 necessitous and the slack in trade. These oppressive measures, 
 as the sin grows, gives place to others, which no law of God or 
 man can be compelled to defend. A total mis-statement of facts 
 accompanies every act of commerce, till there is an entire abandon- 
 ment of that golden rule, "Whatsoever ye would that others 
 should do unto you, do ye even so to them." Now, unless the 
 fear of detection hold him back, the man is prepared for any enter- 
 prise that can gratify a sordid mind, for theft or robbery. And it 
 may be that, unperceived, these iniquities are practised. There 
 may be many a thief, and many a robber, who has yet on the face 
 of honesty, and the attire and the reputation of a gentleman. Not 
 one of the whole fraternity ever intended to be discovered. But 
 unless the grace of God prevents, the covetous man will, finally, 
 mature the vice he nourishes, " and sin, when it is finished, bring- 
 eth forth death." The whole band of speculators are in imminent 
 danger of maturing this vice. 
 
 The Scriptures furnish us with some striking instances of this 
 sin finished. You will readily recur to the case of Achan. He 
 was one of the three thousand sent of Joshua to subdue the city 
 of Ai. The spoil was to be devoted to God. But the covetous 
 Achan saw a rich Babylonish garment, and two hundred shekels 
 of silver, and a wedge of gold. What he saw he coveted, and 
 what he coveted he took, and then must lie to hide the crime. 
 Thus we see an instance where this sin came to maturity ; and 
 the result was, that he and all his house, his flocks, and all that 
 he had, were stoned to death, and burned with fire. Thus " sin, 
 when it is finished, bringeth forth death." 
 
 The case of Ahab is in point. He coveted Naboth's vineyard. 
 But Naboth would not part with his patrimonial inheritance ; and 
 
172 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 for refusing he must die, and the dogs must feed upon his blood. 
 You remember the history. The result was, that the dogs licked 
 Ahab's blood, and that of his family, in the same place where they 
 had feasted upon the blood of 'Naboth. Here, again, the sin of 
 covetousness was finished, and it brought forth death. 
 
 And the case of Judas is written in lines of blood. He must 
 have had once a reputable character, and when admitted to the 
 apostolic office was unimpeachable. But he was covetous ; and 
 being made purse-bearer for the little family, accustomed himself 
 to purloin its contents. This might have been his practice for 
 years, hence his master denominated him a " thief." When oppor- 
 tunity was, at length, given him to betray the Lord Jesus, the 
 temptation was too strong, and he pocketed the price of blood, and 
 ended his career a suicide. Here again the sin was finished, and 
 brought forth death. And I could tell you of Ananias and Sap- 
 phira, and a host of others, who have followed in the same train, 
 and have earned and reaped the same destiny. Every mail's in- 
 telligence, and every court of police exhibit another and another 
 victim perishing by the same iniquity. 
 
 IV. Lasciviousness has its maturity in the pollutions and obsceni- 
 ties of the brothel. I know that decency shrinks from the very 
 terms we must use on this subject, and still the sin must be ex- 
 posed. If the sight can be endured, go once to those wretched 
 abodes, where are bound on the altar of impurity, her thousands 
 of ill-fated victims, and ask them their individual history, and they 
 will tell you how their sin became finished. They will relate to 
 you how they fell in with some vile associate, while yet they had 
 been uncontaminated. who polluted their imaginations, which led, 
 in an evil hour, to impure desire and a lascivious look, and, finally, 
 to the deed that made them the bond-slaves of hell forever. Their 
 case is now considered hopeless. They are abhorred by themselves 
 and by others, have already died a civil death, and must soon go 
 down to the grave, and then suffer eternally the tortures of the 
 worm that shall never die, and of the fire that shall never be 
 quenched. Here is the text literally true. " When lust hath con- 
 ceived, it bringeth forth sin ; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth 
 forth death." 
 
 V. Profanity, too, has its maturity in those unrestrained blasphemies 
 which have sometimes been uttered at the very juncture when life was 
 going out. The profane man does not mature this vice in an hour. 
 
INIQUITY FINISHED. 173 
 
 It may be that he was educated under the roof of piety, where he 
 was taught to fear an oath. And his earliest departures from yea 
 and nay were, at the first, but a single shade removed from purity 
 of language. By slow and painful degrees, however, he learned 
 to utter the curse, then the oath. Here he intended to stop, as he 
 had intended at each preceding stage of his impious career. But 
 he had now broken through parental restraint, and had well nigh 
 conquered the obstinate correctness of his own conscience, and it 
 became easy to proceed. It becomes his practice to utter his pas- 
 sions in an oath, and he can at length swear when not impassionffl, 
 and the practice soon grows into a habit. 
 
 It now becomes quite insipid to go in the old dull track, and 
 he invents new oaths, till at length the names of God and all his 
 sacred attributes, ring upon every change possible, and, aided by 
 tone, and emphasis, and gesture, constitute more than half his im- 
 pious vocabulary. Finally, he breaths pollution as soon as he 
 opens his lips. And when he has for a time made man the butt of 
 his blasphemies, he begins to abuse directly his Maker, and his 
 Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Now his sin is finished, and in some 
 surprising hour, may meet the sudden arrest of death, with a vol- 
 ley of blasphemy, and die with the execration half finished upon 
 his lips. My readers may not have witnessed this case, and would 
 to God they may not, but assuredly the fact has happened, furnish- 
 ing us a lucid comment upon the text, " Sin, when it is finished, 
 bringeth forth death." 
 
 
 
 VI. So the Sabbath-breaker matures his sin by degrees. He went 
 early with his parents to the house of God, and grew up to man- 
 *hood under the droppings of the sanctuary. But on some occa- 
 sion he was tempted to spend a Sabbath in the fields, or in world- 
 ly business. Some wicked associate thus induced him to break 
 in upon his early habits. And it gave him, at the first, pain of 
 conscience. But a second temptation and a third soon prepared 
 him to do, without distress, what was at the first an outrage upon 
 his whole Christian education. Soon he deserted the house of 
 God, and soon neglected the Bible, and soon threw off his whole 
 religious deportment. He can now waste his Sabbaths over a 
 newspaper, or on his bed, or in a place of rendezvous. And he 
 entices others away with him to his guilty haunts, and is now quite 
 content to have all his Sabbaths pass without acquiring any know- 
 ledge of God, of truth, or of duty. But in the mean time his pro- 
 bation glides away, and he will come to his death-bed, and his 
 
174 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 Sabbaths be over, all over, and no preparation made to meet his 
 God. He would then give a world for a Sabbath. His tortured 
 conscience, unless disease or medicine should stupify him, will 
 rehearse in his hearing the history of his mis-spent Sabbaths, and 
 portray before his astonished eyes the iniquity of his heathenism, 
 till his dying chamber will become a scene of horror like the mid- 
 night of Egypt. What he knows of truth, will but paint to him in 
 the more gloomy colors, the sin of despising God's Sabbaths, 
 which he might have improved in becoming acquainted with him- 
 self and with God. He is haunted with the conviction that no 
 Sabbath awaits him in heaven. His sin is finished, and he must 
 die, ignorant of that gospel through which God fits his people for 
 his kingdom. 
 
 VII. So the growth of infidelity, may be traced from its low begin- 
 nings to the same destructive maturity. In his youth the man was a 
 speculative believer, and was satisfied that the Bible was the truth 
 of God. But some shrewd associate made sport of the Scriptures, 
 and put into his hands at length the " Jlge of Reason" But so 
 correct had been his education that at first he dared not read it. 
 It lay by him and he finally cast his eye upon it, and it suite the 
 temper of his' heart 5 he perused it, and it shook his faith. He yet 
 intended not to become a disciple of that wretch whose principles 
 did not sustain himself in his dying hours. But one scandalous 
 volume referred him to another and one associate who had discard- 
 ed the Bible, led him to another, till at length he was prepared to 
 yield his better judgment. 
 
 He went on to prop the fabric of his unbelief, till consistency of 
 character drove him to abandon the gospel and quit the sanctuary, 
 and discontinue his prayers, as all inconsistent with his system of 
 rationalism. He had now no means of learning his danger, and 
 felt quite secure in his iniquities. He needs no Savior, and spurns 
 with contempt the overtures of mercy. And his sentiments have 
 misled his conscience, till he can sin with a high hand and feel 
 little or no compunction. He bids fair to die an unbeliever, and 
 although he may renounce his scheme in the hour of death, it will 
 probably be too late to apply to his soul the consolations of that 
 gospel which he has deliberately abandoned. True, the preliba- 
 tions of his future destiny may, on his death-bed, force him, as 
 they have many of the champions of his creed, into a speculative 
 faith in Jesus Christ, yet is there little hope, that the slighted and 
 abused Redeemer, will, at that late hour, become his helper, and 
 
INIQUITY FINISHED. 175 
 
 then he is lost for ever. His sin is finished and it bringeth forth 
 death. 
 
 VIII. So we might trace the sin of lying from the first instance of 
 prevarication on to the fixed habit of dauntless and deliberate per- 
 jury. When men at first depart from the simplicity of truth, they 
 do not intend to confirm the habit, much less to lie under the 
 solemnities of an oath. But one departure from veracity begets 
 the necessity often of another, and another. And one fortunate 
 escape from detection, holds out the promise of future impunity. 
 Thus the man whose lips had been accustomed to truth, becomes 
 habituated, before he sees his danger, to utter falsehood. And 
 the case will soon happen that he must swear to what he has stat- 
 ed, and God is called in to witness to the truth of a lie. And he 
 perceives that Heaven does not avenge Ae deed, and ventures on 
 it again, and again, as party, or passion, or interest dictates. He 
 now soon becomes prepared for deliberate perjury, and is, perhaps, 
 detected and suffers the penalty of human law, or, if otherwise, 
 goes on till the law of God takes effect, and he is turned with all 
 liars into the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone, which is 
 the second death. Thus the sin is finished. 
 
 FINALLY. Let me sum the whole up in one case. These sins some- 
 times all meet in the same man, and grow to maturity together. The 
 vices are all twin-sisters, and can flourish in the same soil, and under 
 the same sunshine. The gambler becomes profane and false, and 
 fraudulent, and intemperate, and lewd, breaks the Sabbath, and 
 derides the truth of the Bible. Some of these vices seldom fail to 
 be in the society of all the residue. When did you know a pro- 
 fane man who had any conscientious regard for the truth, or ven- 
 erated the Bible 1 Or when an intemperate man, or lewd, who 
 did not engraft these vices into the same stock where all the 
 others grew 1 Adopt one sin and all the others plead for their 
 own adoption. W r ill the infidel judge it out of character to be 
 profane 1 Will the false scruple to baptize his lie with an oath 1 
 Will the inebriate be ashamed to be lewd 1 Will the Sabbath- 
 breaker venerate the Bible 1 While one of these sins is coming 
 to maturity, the others, like shoots by the side of a bramble, will 
 spring up and grow, and when matured may any of them bring 
 death. 
 
 The fact is, to mature any vice requires the abandonment of 
 restraint and when this is lost, any iniquity can vegetate. The 
 
176 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 man becemes to every good work reprobate. The understanding 
 is distorted, the conscience seared, the heart rendered cold, and 
 hard, and selfish, and the man becomes deaf to remonstrance, and 
 is placed out of the reach of reform. Now, many sins are finished 
 in the same man, and they inevitably bring forth death. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 I. How may we know when sin has approached nigh to maturity 1 
 No question can be to us all more practical or important. We 
 may know by various signs : 
 
 1. Maturity in vice stuns the sensibility of conscience. When 
 men can sin and not be filled with distress, it argues that they 
 have silenced the monitor in their bosom. When the gambler 
 feels happy after the garn^, and the drunkard dreads not the occa- 
 sion that will tempt him to indulgence, and the profane fearlessly 
 utters the oath, and the false can be as happy, when he has spoken 
 a lie as the truth, and the fraudulent feeds cheerfully, on his ill- 
 gotten wealth, and the Sabbath-breaker has no twinges of conscience, 
 as the hours of holy rest pass by unimproved, and the unchaste 
 can sleep quietly in the bed of guilt, and the infidel is sensible of 
 no inward testimony to the truth in every such case there is 
 reason to fear that conscience is driven from her moorings, and 
 the storm is high, and hard by is the reef of death, where she is 
 to be finally and fatally shipwrecked. 
 
 2. Maturity in vice progressively excludes shame. When the pro- 
 fane will utter their coarse dialect within the hearing of the moral, 
 and when the intemperate do not blush to be caught at their cups, 
 and the liar is not put out of countenance by detection, and the 
 Sabbath-breaker is willing to be seen, wasting the hours of holy' 
 rest, and the fraudulent can boast of the advantage they have taken, 
 and the gambler is willing to be caught at the game, and the infidel 
 sneers at the gospel, and the licentious are proud of their intrigues ; 
 then shame is gone, and sin is finished a great poet has justly 
 said, 
 
 " He that blushes is not quite a brute." 
 
 And a greater, and a better man has inquired, " Were they 
 ashamed when they had committed abomination 1 nay, they were 
 not at all ashamed, neither could they blush ; therefore they shall 
 fall among them that fall ; in the time that I visit them they shall 
 be cast down, saith the Lord." Here is the very case stated. 
 When men have so far orogressed in vice that they have ceased 
 
INIQUITY FINISHED. ' 177 
 
 to be ashamed, then the threatened judgments of God take effect, 
 and sin, being " finished, bringeth forth death." 
 
 II. The subject addresses itself to parents. Our poor dying 
 children are liable to be ensnared by these vices ; if we love them, 
 we shall carefully watch them. 
 
 1. We shall be careful not to corrupt them ourselves. We have 
 known unhappy parents who taught their children to gamble, and 
 be false, and profane, and fraudulent, and to desecrate the Sabbath, 
 and to use the cup, and reject the Bible. All this, perhaps, they 
 did not intend to do, and would have been alarmed, it may be, 
 could they have seen the end from the beginning. And still the 
 restraints they withheld, or the passions and appetites they in- 
 dulged, or the principles they inculcated, or the example they set, 
 or the doctrines they taught, led their children directly in the way 
 of the destroyer, and their whole character, when sin is finished, 
 will be chargeable to their unhappy parents. 
 
 2. If we love our children we shall be careful not to permit 
 others to destroy them. Some parents suffer their offspring to be 
 corrupted before their very eyes. Perhaps they receive some 
 outcast into their family, and he becomes the tutor of their child- 
 ren ere they have suspected the danger. They wonder where and 
 when their children learned to be profane, to use the cup, to be 
 familiar with the language of impurity, to break the Sabbath, to 
 deal fraudulently. Ah ! they learned of those who were introduced 
 as domestics in the family circle. Unless parents would bring 
 down their own gray hairs with sorrow to the grave, let them be 
 jealous over the moral character of their servants and of every 
 other inmate of their house. 
 
 And we must be equally careful who are their associates abroad. 
 It is inhuman to send them to the school of vice. There may be 
 youth near us with whom they may not safely mingle. There may 
 be families in their very neighborhood, with whom we should be 
 afraid to have them associate. The seeds of vice may be sown, 
 and the shoots not distinctly seen until we are dead, and still they 
 may spring up, and ripen, and bear, by-and-bye, when we are in 
 heaven, the fruits of death. 
 
 3. In view of this subject be warned not to let any sin ripen in 
 your hearts. Think not to trifle with iniquity and come off with- 
 out harm. If you begin a wrong practice, always remember that 
 it may ripen into an obstinate and deadly habit. The rock which 
 you roll from the summit of a mountain may move slow at the 
 
 23 
 
178 INIQUITY FINISHED. 
 
 first, and require great effort to start it, but it may acquire mo- 
 mentum before you are aware, and may plough itself a path to the 
 valley through the mightiest barriers that a creating God has in- 
 terposed in its course. The only safe doctrine is that inspired 
 maxim, " Touch not, taste not, handle not.'''' Say not, I have learned 
 the rules of the game, but intend not to be a gambler. Say not, I 
 sometimes indulge myself in the cup, but I do not intend to be a 
 drunkard. Say not, I know I am sometimes covetous, but do not 
 intend to be a thief or a robber. Say not, I sometimes indulge my 
 lewd affections, but shall never entrust myself in the house of in- 
 famy. Say not, I sometimes allow myself in profanity, but can 
 never be tempted to blasphemy. Say not, I have sometimes pro- 
 faned the Sabbath, but I shall proceed no farther, shall never quit 
 the sanctuary, or cease to regard that day as holy. Say not, I 
 sometimes ply the unbeliever's objections to the Bible, but shall 
 never become an infidel. Say not, I have sometimes prevaricated, 
 but shall never become perjured. Oh, say not, I mean to indulge 
 my sins at present, but do not mean to become an abandoned trans- 
 gressor. None can predict what you may not become, if you set 
 out in any course of transgression. " The heart is deceitful above 
 all things," and it may happen that you may feel quite safe at the 
 very juncture when some darling iniquity has gained the ascend- 
 ancy over you, and your steps are just about to slip. May a mer- 
 ciful God save you. 
 
 
SERMON XIII 
 OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 MALACHI 1. 6. 
 
 A son honoreth his father, and a servant his master : if then I be a Father, where is mine 
 honor ? And if I be a Master, where is my fear ? 
 
 THIS address was made to the priests of the Lord, at a very cor- 
 rupt age of the Jewish church ; and applies not only to them, but 
 to the whole family of Israel. There was corruption not merely 
 in the priesthood : the whole church was exceedingly polluted. 
 Every precept of the law was violated, and every rite of the sanc- 
 tuary perverted. Hence most of the addresses made to them ap- 
 ply, not to believers, but to impenitent men, and that in all ages, 
 and in all countries. " Oh, Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself," 
 would seem a strange address to true believers ; but is exactly 
 suited to a community of hypocrites, whose profession of godliness 
 embraced all the holiness they aimed to acquire. 
 
 It will then be no violation of the spirit of the text, if we apply 
 it to an impenitent world, embracing those who have no show of 
 godliness, as well as the whole family of false professors. 
 
 We find in the lips of many who make no pretensions to a 
 change of heart, high professions of respect for the character and 
 government of God. They claim him as their Father, and would 
 have us believe that they respect and obey his laws. It will be 
 my object in this discourse to inquire, WHETHER MEN OF THIS CHA- 
 RACTER YIELD HIM THAT FILIAL ESTEEM, OR THAT DUTIFUL SUBJECTION, 
 WHICH ARE DUE TO A FATHER AND A MASTER. That the Subject, how- 
 
 ever, may impress our minds the more tenderly, let us, 
 
 I. Contemplate the government of God, and see if we can discover 
 him dealing with all his rational creatures as a Father and a Master. 
 
 1. In the first place, as a Father and a Master he protects them. 
 This the son and the servant expect. God keeps his eye upon all 
 his intelligent creatures, and puts underneath them his arm of 
 mercy. Not an hour would life be sustained, did not Jehovah 
 keep in tune this wondrous frame ; did he not heave the lungs, 
 
180 OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 move the heart, and brace every member and every nerve. Dan- 
 gers stand thick around us, wait at every corner do destroy us, 
 but are warded off by that unseen Intelligence, " in whom we live, 
 and move, and have our being." The unbeliever as well as the 
 believer, holds his life, his reason, his health, and all his comforts 
 as a loan of Heaven. While he neglects to pray, and while every 
 mercy is forgotten in unthankfulness ; while he even sets his 
 mouth against the heavens, and defies the power that protects him ; 
 still, with paternal vigilance, God extends to him his protecting 
 mercy. He lies down and sleeps, and wakes, because the Lord 
 makes him to dwell safely. 
 
 2. As a Father and a Master he, provides for all his creatures. 
 That bread which men feed upon, as the fruit of their own indus- 
 try, and for which they thank themselves, and every garment that 
 covers them, and the house that shelters them, are the gifts of 
 God. No man could make his seed vegetate, or render his fields 
 fertile, or ensure success in trade, independently of his Maker. 
 The showers and the dews, the genial sun, and the soft breezes of 
 heaven are entirely under divine control, and unite their influence 
 to feed, and clothe, and warm, and give health and vigor to an 
 apostate world. Thus, as a Father and a Master, he makes timely 
 and kind provision for all his creatures. 
 
 3. As a Father and a Master he makes us know his will. We 
 have some lessons of instruction from the broad sheet of nature ; 
 but in his word he has opened all his heart ; has made every duty 
 plain, and placed it in the power of every son and servant of his 
 to do his pleasure. He has plainly revealed himself and his will 
 concerning us. He has made us acquainted with his Son and his 
 kingdom. If disposed to obedience, we have nothing to do but to 
 obey. And that his family of intelligences might have no excuse 
 from marching up promptly to their duty, he has caused his word 
 to be proclaimed in a preached gospel. Thus we have line upon 
 line, and precept upon precept. All this we expect from a father 
 and a master. 
 
 4. I add, he has made our duties light. The service he requires 
 is pleasant and easy. He demands what is to our own interest, 
 and prohibits what would ruin us. His law, in all its rigor, is a 
 most kind and benevolent institution, and has conferred upon his 
 family the richest comforts and the greatest obligations. Next to 
 the gospel, the law of God is the richest bequest of Heaven to our 
 world ; and they were both issued with the same design to ren- 
 der intelligent beings happy in the enjoyment of their Maker. 
 
OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 181 
 
 Finally, if we obey him, he smiles upon us, and provides for our 
 future happiness as does a father and a master. The law itself, 
 which he had a right to issue without a promise of reward, implies 
 that the dutiful shall be happy. He approves of every act of duty, 
 and will notice it with his favor even if we give to the thirsty a 
 cup of cold water from love to him. When we have sinned, and 
 are desirous to return to duty, he accepts our repentance, forgives 
 us, and loves us. Thus he acts the part of a kind Father and an 
 indulgent Master toward all his intelligent creation. And many 
 whose hearts have never been won to love and duty, are still sen- 
 sible that God is kind, and deserves their warmest esteem and 
 faithful service. But after all this we hear Him say, " If then I 
 be a Father, where is mine honor ?" 
 
 II. Let us inquire how a kind and dutiful son or servant will treat 
 a father or a master. 
 
 I yoke the two together, because if faithful and dutiful, they will 
 exhibit in these relationships very much the same deportment. 
 
 In the first place, the son loves his father, and the good servant 
 his master. The attachment is very strong ; and, perhaps, often 
 as strong in the one case as in the other. You have seen servants 
 who would die to protect their master j and the attachment of a 
 good son to his father none will question. Let us then inquire 
 whether that class of men who acknowledge that they have not 
 been regenerated, but who wish to be considered very friendly to 
 their Maker, do really feel any love to his- character. While 
 they are made the recipients of his bounty, they may feel glad, 
 and may mistake gladness for gratitude. Or viewing his favors 
 as an evidence of his love to them, they may feel that complacen- 
 cy in themselves which may seem like affection for him. Or 
 making some essential mistake in their views of his character, 
 they may love the image they have set up, and which they call 
 Jehovah. Or being grossly ignorant of his character, they may 
 never feel their hearts drawn out toward him, in any very strong 
 affection or passion, and so may not know that they do not love 
 him. Or these things may all combine to deceive and ruin them. 
 
 If we have any love to God we must love his whole character, 
 and must learn his character from the Bible. We must not only 
 love the Being who waters our fields, and makes the earth fruitful, 
 and the air salubrious ; who supplies us with health and plenty ; 
 but the Being, (for he is the same,) who sends drought, and fa- 
 mine, and pestilence ; who cuts off our comforts, and sends dis- 
 
182 OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. ' 
 
 ease, and death, and darkness, and sorrow into our habitations. 
 We must not only love him, who created us, who protects us, who 
 feeds us, who enlightens us, and who offers us salvation ; but him 
 who gave us his law, gave that law its sanctions, and annexes to a 
 rejection of the gospel the sure pledge of endless misery. We 
 must not only love the Being who has watched the world with 
 paternal solicitude, and has given to the different nations their 
 prosperity and their honors ; but him, (for he is the same God,) 
 who blotted out the old world, who burned the cities of the plain, 
 who has plagued the kingdoms of men with revolutions, earth- 
 quakes, storms, and Avars. We must not only love him who has 
 built a heaven for redeemed sinners, but him who has digged a 
 bottomless pit, and kindled a quenchless fire for the finally impeni- 
 tent. We cannot love the Author of all good, and hate him as the 
 Author of what we call evil. There is but one God, and he as- 
 sures us that he makes light, and creates darkness. We must vest 
 him with all his attributes, and love him as a whole Deity, or he 
 will spurn our affection, and count us his enemies. He is as wor- 
 thy of esteem in the exercise of holiness, justice, truth, and ven- 
 geance, as when he displays his infinite goodness and mercy. His 
 threatenings do him as much honor as his promises. His plagues 
 are as necessary as his blessings, his lightnings as his rains, his 
 law as his gospel, his prison as his palace. His rod and his bread 
 are both blessings to his children and his servants. 
 
 Now the question is, do that class of men who speak so highly 
 of their Maker, and who would have us believe that they are so 
 grateful for his benefits, and have pleasure in contemplating his 
 character, but who have no pretensions to having passed the new 
 birth do they love the whole of the Divine character ?. Have 
 they selected the attributes of their supreme Deity from the Bible, 
 and do they disrobe him of no single perfection 1 Is the view the 
 Bible gives of Jehovah pleasant to them in all its parts 1 Would 
 they not alter one single trait if they might 1 Have they no ex- 
 ceptions to make when they think of him, and speak of him, and 
 pray to him 1 And when they think of going to be in his presence 
 for ever, is his character exactly such as they would love to con- 
 template and to dwell with 1 
 
 I know that some of these questions, at times, are trying even 
 to the believer ; but he does hope, that he approves of every at- 
 tribute in the character of Jehovah. But do not that class of men, 
 to whom this sermon is principally addressed, manifest, that they 
 are pleased with only apart of the Divine character ? Hence ho\v 
 
OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 183 
 
 frequently will they deny such of the doctrines as clash with their' 
 views of God. Total depravity is viewed as rendering themselves 
 too deformed for him to love till they are radically changed. The 
 necessity of such a change begets a doubt whether they are on 
 the way to heaven. The deity of Christ argues, that men are in 
 a state of fearful ruin from which none but an almighty Redeemer 
 can rescue them. The necessity of a Divine influence to change 
 the heart, cuts off the hope which they build on their own good 
 works, as qualifying them for heaven. Any Divine purpose re- 
 specting the heirs of salvation, places their destiny in the hands of 
 God ; where they are afraid to trust it. His sovereignty in rege- 
 nerating whom he will, leaves it doubtful whether their purposes of 
 future repentance will be executed. Threatenings of everlasting 
 misery to the finally impenitent, exhibit God as too inflexibly holy 
 to be their Jehovah. 
 
 Do they not dread these doctrines because they undermine their 
 high opinion of themselves, and in their view mar the character 
 of God'? If they loved him, they would have confidence in him; 
 they would believe what ha says, would dare to be in his hands, 
 would have no fear of his decrees, nor be apprehensive of too 
 great severity in his justice. 
 
 The child, when he is received into the arms of his father, asks 
 from him no promise that he will not cast him into the fire or the 
 flood. If he knows that his father has written his last testament, 
 he has no fear that he is disinherited : and the faithful servant has 
 the same confidence. 
 
 2. The good child loves the society of his father, and the faithful 
 servant loves to be with his master. Every one has observed that 
 love will thus operate. If then God be a Father, where is his hon- 
 or '? Do men in their native state love to be with God 1 The be- 
 liever will know what I mean by being with God. There is a sense 
 in which God is every where ; but a special sense in which he is 
 present with his people. Communion with him is as much a reali- 
 ty as communion with a friend. In a friend we do not see that 
 spirit with which we hold fellowship. When it has fled, still all 
 that we saw is present, but communion is at an end. God's people 
 have endearing fellowship with him, and there is no blessing which 
 they prize so highly. In the family, in the closet, in the sanctuary, 
 and in the field, they mingle their souls with the Great Spirit, and 
 are happy. The ordinances are appointed for this purpose. One 
 day spent in his courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. 
 
 But the men we have described do they understand the na- 
 
184 OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 ture, and estimate the privilege of this fellowship 1 They 
 think they love their Maker, and are displeased if we question 
 their piety ; but do they seek communion with him 1 Are they 
 men of prayer, and accustomed to the work of praise 1 Do they 
 love retirement and meditation 1 Do they pore much over the 
 page of inspiration, and do they cultivate a spirit of devotion 1 
 All this is to be expected of one who loves to be with God. A 
 few transient thoughts of him as a Benefactor are not a sufficient 
 testimony of supreme' attachment. God commands more than 
 this, and if we are his children or his servants, we shall desire 
 more. Else what is meant when we are commanded to "pray 
 without ceasing 1" And what does David mean when he says, 
 " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul 
 after thee, O God V Or Job, when he says, " O that I knew where 
 I might find him ; that I might come even to his seat V Now a 
 religion that produces none of all this that never thirsts after 
 God, nor grieves on account of his absence is to be suspected as 
 radically deficient. It may serve to deceive, but will never save. 
 3. A good son and a faithful servant will be cheerfully obedient. 
 A dutiful temper is indispensable in either of these stations. The 
 son who does not cheerfully receive and execute the wishes of his 
 father is unworthy of the name, and deserves to be disinherited. 
 And the servant who does not exhibit the same dutiful temper is a 
 mere slave. Let us then apply this test to that class of men who 
 are addressed in the text. Is it their joy to obey the Lord ? They 
 will then attend well to his commands. They will read and medi- 
 tate upon his law, and will make his word the man of their coun- 
 sel, and will study to obey. Is this the fact 1 Are they employed 
 in studying ways and means to glorify God, and make mankind 
 happy 1 Do they discharge with conscientious fidelity all the du- 
 ties of their respective offices and relations 1 Are they among the 
 first to feed the poor, instruct the ignorant, reform the vicious ^ 
 What they would that others should do ,to them, do they make 
 this the rule of their own conduct ? And are they uniform in 
 their regard to duty 1 Do they yield God the service he requires, 
 and exhibit that respect to his name, his .word, his worship, and 
 his Son, which he enjoins 1 Or, to express the whole in a few 
 words, have they a tender conscience, which fears to do wrong, 
 fears to neglect a duty, fears to violate an obligation, dreads the 
 least deviation from the most perfect rectitude 1 Such a con- 
 science is, of all others, the most decisive test of a holy mind. 
 " If ye love me, keep my commandments." " By this shall all 
 
OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 185 
 
 men know that ye are my disciples, if ye do whatsoever I com- 
 mand you." We may then safely rest the matter here ; if men 
 conscientiously regard all that God has spoken as immediately 
 binding upon their consciences and their conduct, believe them 
 pious ; but if they say but little, and care but little about duty, we 
 must retain all our fears. 
 
 4. The son and the servant will each be attached to his father's 
 or his master's family. If a child or a servant be unhappy at 
 home, it is an omen of evil, an evidence of some unhappy aliena- 
 tion of affection. If we apply this test to the characters addressed 
 in the text, what is the result 1 Do they attach themselves to the 
 family of Christ 1 Do they love his disciples, choose them as their 
 inmates, and hold sweet counsel with them, and wish their society 
 for ever 1 And is their attachment stronger to those who are emi- 
 nently holy than to others 1 If we love God, we shall love those most 
 who wear most prominently the marks of his image. With them we 
 shall wish to be identified in a compact, strong and eternal. Hence 
 to hope that we love the Kedeemer, while we stand aloof from his 
 family, is absurd. " By this shall men know that ye are my dis- 
 ciples, if ye have love one to another." Hence, generally, we 
 shall find the people of God in a cluster. We may find a few 
 strayed from the family, but we shall find them uneasy and unhap- 
 py till they come and take their place in his house. 
 
 5. The servant and the son are very jealous of the honor of their 
 father or their master. They will not hear him reproached; they 
 separate themselves from his enemies, and from the place where 
 he is not honored. And all this God expects from those who ac- 
 knowledge him as their Father or their Master. But do we dis- 
 cover this delicacy of feeling in that class of men who would be 
 esteemed religious, but who have no pretensions to a change of 
 heart 1 Are they grieved to hear the name, and attributes, and 
 works of the Lord spoken lightly of? Do they retire from the 
 sound of profaneness, and feel themselves abused, if men in their 
 presence will not reverence Jehovah 1 It must be proper to bring 
 every man's religion to this test. You would esteem no man your 
 friend who could stay, and be content, where he heard you abused. 
 Mere silence in him, while others abused you, would evince that 
 his friendship was deceitful. Now God has .assured us that "he 
 is a jealous God V' Of course he will watch the smallest deviations 
 from propriety in those who would be thought to love him. The 
 man who would smile at an oath, or carry on conversation with 
 one who is profane, and show no disapprobation, will find it difficult 
 
 24 
 
186 OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL TEST OF AFFECTION. 
 
 to prove that he is grieved when God is dishonored, and will for- 
 feit his claim to piety. One has not a keener sense of the touch 
 of fire than of any contact with profaneness, after he has been 
 sanctified by the grace of God'. 
 
 FINALLY The kind son and the dutiful servant will wish to have 
 others acquainted with their father and their master. Their own 
 attachment is so strong, that they conceive nothing more to be 
 necessary, than that his character should be known, in order to 
 his being loved and respected. Apply this test, if you please, to 
 that classs of men who have no pretensions to having been re- 
 generated, but who still insist upon it that they love God and are 
 friendly to his government and kingdom. Do they wish to ex- 
 tend the knowledge of God to others ?. Are they grieved that so 
 small a portion of the human family have the sacred volume, and 
 that those who have it know so little of its contents 1 Do we find 
 them among the first to propagate the gospel 1 Are they deeply 
 interested in the great work that is at present going on the Chris- 
 tian world 1 Do they rejoice at every new translation of the 
 scriptures I And are they ready to contribute of their wealth to 
 propagate the truth 1 All this must follow a strong attachment to 
 God. And if things be otherwise with those who hope that they 
 love him, there is somewhere a radical mistake. If men love the 
 God of the Bible, they will wish others to have the Bible that they 
 may know and love the same God. If they doubt the truth of the 
 Scriptures, and are attached merely to some being whom they 
 style the God of nature, then indeed they may feel indifferent 
 whether men have any other than the book of nature. But this is 
 deism precisely, and men would be ashamed, in the present day, to 
 advocate a system that is becoming obsolete. In fact, there is no 
 God of nature, but the God of the Bible. He who built the hills 
 and built the sun, inspired the book of grace, and is the only God 
 who can save in the hour of distress. Why should we deceive 
 ourselves with a scheme which is rotten, or be content that others 
 should trust their souls to some Jupiter or Moloch, that never had 
 any existence but in the imagination of such as did not like to re- 
 tain God in their knowledge 1 
 
 My dear readers, we must come to the conclusion (and the 
 sooner the better) that there is no religion without a change of 
 heart. " Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom 
 of God." We must have that same religion which has brought 
 others to their knees, and borne them to the place of prayer, and 
 
OBEDIENCE THE PRACTICAL T-EST OF AFFECTION. 187 
 
 and cut them off from the men of the world, and rendered them 
 men of faith and of devotion, or we must die without any, and 
 perish in our delusions. Religion cannot be shaped to please a 
 carnal mind cannot be brought down to the frigid taste of un- 
 sanctified men. It has remained the same in all .ages, and will 
 continue to demand a temper which unsanctified men do not feel, 
 and a conduct which they do not exhibit. 
 
 We are the more anxious to do good to that class of men who 
 have been brought into view, because we see many excellences in 
 their character. They are neither intemperate, profane, nor false ; 
 they are civil, and decent, and kind, and hospitable ; they are often 
 public-spirited. Hence true religion would place them among the 
 first on the list of useful men. We grieve to see them lack this 
 one thing needful, because it prevents their usefulness, and mars 
 their happiness. 
 
 But we are anxious for another reason, which must not be con- 
 cealed. We think they are entirely mistaken in their hopes of 
 future happiness. We fear their death-bed will be a scene of 
 stupidity or of horror. We apprehend, (and if we are deceived 
 still we are honest,) that they are in imminent danger of being 
 lost for ever. Their religion has too little to do with a Savior : 
 it nourishes too high an opinion of works ; it is too frigid, too 
 thoughtless, too prayerless ; it is too much afraid of the cross ; is 
 not sufficiently humble, watchful, circumspect, heavenly-minded. 
 We fear it is not the religion of the gospel, and will avail them 
 nothing in the last day. We think it important that they examine 
 their hopes, before it be too late ; and if they find that they have 
 not a religion which will stand the test of the last day, they should 
 bow immediately to the Lord Jesus Christ. Why should men in- 
 trench themselves in a refuge of lies, to be demolished by the hail 
 of the last day, and leave them unsheltered in the midst of that 
 fearful storm. 
 
 If God be a Father, honor him. Devote your life to him, and 
 yield him your richest, best affections. Be ashamed of no duty 
 which he requires ; shrink from no sacrifice he demands ; and let 
 the world know that you are not ashamed of your Father. 
 
 If he be a Master, honor him. Make his law your study, and 
 consider his service your freedom. Then you will at last hear 
 him say to you, " Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast 
 been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many 
 things : enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." It will then be your 
 privilege and your honor to serve him in some more elevated 
 sphere of usefulness for ever. 
 
SERMON XIV. 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S SHEET ANCHOR. 
 
 PSALM CXIX. 116. 
 
 Uphold me according unto thy word, that I may live ; and let me not be ashamed of my hope. 
 
 FEW words in the English language are used more loosely than 
 the word hope. If one feels desirous that God may hereafter re- 
 new him, he assures us that he is not without hope ; if he expects 
 to be saved without conversion, he hopes j and if he presumes 
 without any evidence that he is now a child of God, he possesses a 
 hope. None of these examples gives us the proper use of the 
 word. Hope always fixes on a future good, and rests on present 
 evidence. David anticipated future and eternal blessedness in the 
 presence of his Lord, and he had present evidence for believing 
 that he should enjoy this future good. But he was still a sinful 
 man, for there is no man that liveth and sinneth not. His repeated 
 transgressions interrupted his hope. If he should at last fail of 
 the expected glory he knew it would expose him to shame and 
 contempt in the view of all those who knew of his former expecta- 
 tions. He professed to love the Lord had often expressed his 
 confidence in his covenant faithfulness, and had been pronounced 
 to be the man after God's own heart. And after all this, to fail of 
 heaven, and find himself associated with God's enemies, would be 
 dreadful beyond the power of description or conception. 
 
 Hence he prays, " Uphold me according unto thy word, that I 
 may live." He was confident that the true believer would persevere. 
 God had given his word that he would uphold his people, and 
 David prays that God would do as he had promised. He believed, 
 too, that the spiritual life of the saint was in the hands of God. 
 The expectation that I may live is founded on the calculation that 
 God will uphold me according unto his word. That holy man 
 had no confidence in his own strength. God must keep him, or 
 he should at last be ashamed of his hope. Brethren, the same 
 apprehensions, and the same prayer, will become us all. 
 
ANCHOR. 189 
 
 To understand the foundation, the nature, and the operations of 
 that hope of which we shall not at last be ashamed, is a high and 
 valuable attainment. To designate such a hope will be my present 
 object. 
 
 I. That we may not at last be ashamed of our hope, it must ori- 
 ginate in a change of the temper of the heart. The hopes of many 
 have a far different origin. Some presume that they are fair can- 
 didates for heaven, because they have been kept from the pollutions 
 into which many others have plunged. Their parents were more 
 watchful, and they were placed in different circumstances from 
 other youth, and grew to manhood uncontaminated by the vices of 
 the age. And they presume that their exemption from vice is the 
 result of religion. Like the young man in the gospel they think 
 themselves fair candidates for heaven, and very deserving of uni- 
 versal esteem, because they have been kept from the grosser 
 transgressions of the divine law, ascribing to divine grace what is 
 the effect of mere restraints. 
 
 Others have confidence in their good estate, because in some 
 period of seriousness they had exercises resembling those of which 
 others, now believers, were the subjects. They saw themselves 
 to be in danger, had some compunctions of conscience, felt great 
 distress and at length obtained relief. Immediately they presumed 
 that they were new creatures, and were confirmed in the strong 
 belief that they should see the kingdom of God ; and upon this 
 hope they have lived ever since. 
 
 Others have been at some period of their life the subjects of a 
 partial reformation. They have broken off from some grosser 
 crimes, are become more civil and decent, and although they can 
 relate no exercises resembling the operations of grace, yet ven- 
 ture to hope that there has been a secret, silent operation upon 
 their hearts. Of their religion little more can be said than that 
 " the unclean spirit has gone out." 
 
 Some build their hope on an opinion which others have incau- 
 tiously expressed with regard to them. Some one, perhaps a per- 
 son not qualified to judge, has expressed the conviction that they 
 were believers, they grasped at the opinion expressed, and believ- 
 ed it true, and rest their souls on this sandy foundation. 
 
 Others hope for salvation because they have been admitted to 
 the communion. In an evil hour the doors of the church were 
 thrown open so wide, that they, with all their impenitence and un- 
 belief, found admittance. They are now treated as Christians, and 
 
190 THE CHRISTIAN'S SHEET ANCHOR. 
 
 addressed as such, and having committed no overt act sufficient to 
 expel them from the communion, the delusion becomes every day 
 stronger and stronger. No one would suspect them of piety were 
 they not seen at the Lord's table, and but for this fact they would 
 entertain no hope of admittance into heaven. Forgetting that 
 many will at last cry, and be rejected, " Lord, Lord, have we not 
 eaten and drunk in thy presence," they fold their arms confident 
 that heaven is theirs for ever. 
 
 Others have hoped because of some dream or vision in which 
 Jesus opened his arms, or heaven its portals to their reception. A 
 voice seemed to proclaim, " Thy sins are forgiven thee," or a text 
 of Scripture providentially promised them salvation. Thus they 
 rest their perishing souls upon a straw. 
 
 Brethren, none of these things are the origin of that hope of 
 which we shall not be ashamed. It must begin in a change of tem- 
 per. The carnal mind must be regenerated. The heart of stone 
 must be taken away, and there must be given a heart of flesh. Old 
 things must pass away and all things become new. There must 
 begin in the soul a divine life. God must be loved and Christ re- 
 ceived by faith. The man must be born of God, and there must 
 appear the unquestioned features of a new man. Christ must be 
 formed in us the hope of glory. Such must be the commencement 
 of our religion, or the time will come when we shall be ashamed 
 of our hope. 
 
 II. That we may not at last be ashamed of our hope, it must ren- 
 der us holy. 
 
 " Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself even 
 as he is pure." And we are taught the same truth in this text 
 " Christ in you, the hope of glory." Now Christ can, in no other 
 sense, be in the believer, than as his doctrines form our creed, his 
 temper reigns in our hearts, his example guides our steps, and his 
 love engrosses our affections. To hope for salvation through 
 Christ, this hope must render us like Christ. The design of reli- 
 gion is, that through its influence, God may " purify unto himself 
 a peculiar people zealous of good works." We read of a hope 
 that maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad 
 in the heart. Gospel hope is joined with faith and love, and will 
 not be found alone. " Now abideth faith, hope, charity." He, 
 then, whose hope does not make him a better man will know the 
 pain of finding his hope perish when God taketh away his soul. Ic 
 is a question placed beyond all controversy, that he, who is begot- 
 
191 
 
 ten again to a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from 
 the dead, will rise with him to newness of life. The man, then, 
 whose life and conversation is such that he can hardly support a 
 profession, whose associates have no hope that he is a believer, arid 
 with whom the children of God can have no fellowship, may rest 
 assured that his hope will one day render him ashamed. To sup- 
 port, in the view of men, a fair profession, is certainly a small part 
 of the duties of a Christian : for, in addition to all this, we must 
 " keep the heart with all diligence for out of it are the issues of 
 life." When the Christian has appeared with advantage, in the 
 view of others, still he has a mighty warfare in his own bosom, 
 and will have occasion to wonder at last if he finds himself in hea- 
 ven. Holiness of life, then, is an indispensable associate of that 
 hope that maketh not ashamed. 
 
 III. That we may not at last be ashamed of our hope, it must 
 bear examination. 
 
 If we are afraid to examine our religion, lest it should be found 
 not to be the religion of the gospel, there is evidence of conscious 
 hypocrisy. We are to be always ready to give a reason of the 
 hope that is in us with meekness and fear, and if we are to be al- 
 ways ready to give a reason, we must always have one ; and, if we 
 have one, we shall not be afraid to examine the ground of our 
 hope. Those who have a good hope through grace can have no 
 fear as to the result of an examination. 
 
 Hope is spoken of as an anchor of the soul sure and steadfast 
 but an anchor is a useless appendage if there be no bottom in 
 which it can be cast. Those who lose their hope as soon as they 
 examine it, who are plunged into doubt and darkness whenever 
 they inquire into their state, have a hope which assuredly will 
 make them ashamed. Hence the exhortation, " Examine your. 
 selves whether ye be in the faith prove your own selves." 
 
 IV. That we may not at last be ashamed of our hope it must live 
 without an effort. We shall bend all our efforts to be holy and our 
 hope will support itself. 
 
 He who finds it difficult to support the hope that he is a believer, 
 and must be for ever grasping at every word and thought that may 
 afford him confidence in his good estate is a very doubtful charac- 
 ter. While the Christian agonizes to keep his feet in the path of 
 lifr , he hangs very loosely by his hope ; while he strives to enter 
 in at the strait gate, he considers it far less important that he sup- 
 
192 THE CHRISTIAN'S SHEET ANCHOR. 
 
 port constantly the unshaken belief that he has entered in ; the 
 hypocrite takes more pains to keep alive his hope, than to warm 
 his heart: It is far easier to wrest from a Christian his hope, than 
 to wrest it from a self-deceiver. Let a close and trying sermon 
 be delivered, and it will be frequently found that God's people and 
 no others have resigned their hopes. They dare examine the state 
 of their religion, and they will examine, be the consequence what 
 it may. If the result is an abandonment of their hope, this but 
 humbles them, and they return to God, their hope revives, and they 
 are made happy. But he, whose hope embodies all his religion, 
 has to make a perpetual effort to keep that hope alive, and has 
 through the whole of this effort many apprehensions that he shall 
 at last prove a cast-away. He feels and he assures us that he 
 would not give up his hope for a world ; but it would be worth ten 
 thousand worlds to him if he would. It is his mistaken hope that 
 prevents him from being alarmed. He is on the very brink of 
 death, but he dreams that all is well, and his dreams hold him pro- 
 foundly asleep, and multiply the dangers that await him. 
 
 V. The hope that maketh not ashamed is always interrupted by 
 sin, while the hypocrite retains his hope unimpaired in the midst 
 of transgression. When the Christian commits sin he is conscious 
 of acting out of character, and his hope trembles. He knows that 
 piety from its very nature is at war with every corruption, and 
 that nothing but perfect redemption can still the quarrel. It is, to 
 pursue the figure, on both sides a war of extermination. Hence 
 the least disposition to parley with sin mars the hope of heaven. 
 But we have seen the profane, the drunkard, the false, the conten- 
 tious, the prayerless, arid every other species of transgressors 
 hold fast to their hope while they were led captive by sin. Per- 
 haps we can name no sign that is darker. To entertain a hope of 
 salvation, that is unshaken by sin, argues a morbid conscience and 
 an unbelieving heart. . It evinces the absence' of every soft, and 
 tender, and holy affection, and settles the point that Christ has not 
 there impressed his image. Oh, how many with a hope like this, 
 have passed on unsanctified to the death-bed, and have at last found 
 their hope perish when God taketh away the soul. 
 
 VI. That we may not be ashamed of our hope others must have 
 a higher opinion of our piety than ourselves. 
 
 Unless there be something distressingly wrong in our lives, 
 others will feel more favorably towards us than we do toward our- 
 
THE CHRISTIAN S SHEET ANCHOR. 193 
 
 selves. Suppose there is nothing in our life very immoral, still 
 there may be coldness and indifference to religion, worldly-mind- 
 edness, covetousness, neglect of duty, lightness, and folly, which 
 will render the hopes of others for us small, but if our own hopes 
 continue undiminished our case will be dark. The Christian will 
 give others better evidence of his piety than himself, because 
 others can only survey the externals of the man, while he sees the 
 sink of iniquity in his own heart and feels all its base and mis- 
 chievous operations. The Christian would find it comparatively 
 easy to obtain salvation if nothing more was necessary than to be 
 pious in the esteem of others. And yet we know that the Christian 
 finds it no easy matter to still the tongue of slander. Our Lord 
 himself could not so live as to silence calumny and detraction. 
 His apostles were vilified, and all who are faithful in Christ Jesus 
 must suffer, and still it is comparatively easy so to live that men 
 shall be able to say nothing against our Christian character and say 
 the truth. God's people cannot make bad men love them while 
 they follow Christ 5 but they may so live that all their slanders 
 shall be false, and all their reproaches groundless, may give their 
 bitterest enemies unequivocal evidence that they love their Master, 
 while yet they may judge very unfavorably relative to themselves. 
 The fruits of their religion, better seen by others than themselves, 
 will be fair and wholesome. Thus will operate that hope, which 
 maketh not ashamed : it will give others, not its possessor, decisive 
 evidence of its stability. 
 
 VI. That we may not, at last, be ashamed of our hope, it must 
 put us upon earnest endeavors to reach the object of our hope. If 
 heaven is the object of our hope, we shall endeavor to bring so 
 much of heaven down to earth as possible. That good which we 
 wait for with eager desire we perpetually anticipate, and thus taste 
 beforehand. The amazing good in prospect will employ to reach 
 it every power of the soul. It is known to the good man that 
 barriers, numerous and formidable, block the way of life. The 
 danger of final disappointment is great. The indolent will fall 
 short of the prize. We are assured that " the kingdom of Hea- 
 ven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force." The 
 apostle says, " I count not myself to have apprehended, but this 
 one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth to those things which are before, I press toward the 
 mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 
 The believer will labor and be anxious to know what is the hope of 
 25 
 
194 THE CHRISTIAN S SHEET ANCHOR. 
 
 his calling, and what the riches of the glory of Christ's inheritance 
 in the saints. Heaven will be viewed as worth all the pains that 
 can be taken to reach that world. There will be great wrestling 
 in prayer. The soul will put forth all its energies to break its 
 way through the barriers of death to the fields of light. The true 
 believer, counting the things .unseen as infinitely surpassing the 
 things seen and temporal, will labor earnestly for the meat which 
 endureth to everlasting life. It will be seen that he is aiming at 
 something great and invaluable. In the pursuit of this good, 
 every minor object will lose, comparatively, its value ; will sink 
 from his view, and leave his mind absorbed, and his heart su- 
 premely set upon God and his kingdom. He will not count his 
 own life dear to him, " not having on his own righteousness, which 
 is of the law, but that which is through the faith" of Christ, the 
 righteousness which is of God by faith. In one word, the man 
 who has chosen God as his portion, and heaven as his home, will 
 be in earnest. A few dull prayers and a few listless efforts will 
 not satisfy. He will feel that he has entered upon a race, and that 
 a crown of glory is the prize. Hence, he will lay aside every 
 weight, and run with patience. Then, on reaching the end of his 
 race, his hope will not make him ashamed, nor will he be ashamed 
 of his hope. I close with a few 
 
 REMARKS. t 
 
 1. The subject should urge us to examine ourselves, and render 
 us willing to be examined. 
 
 The danger of being deceived is great ; and the consequences 
 of such deception irreparable. How unspeakably horrid to find 
 on the death-bed, Or, perhaps, at the very instant that we lire dy- 
 ing, that our hope is a dream. It is too late to repair the mis- 
 chief, or have it repaired. There is no work, nor device, nor 
 knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither we hasten. To know 
 that the character is formed, and find it a bad character the des- 
 tiny is fixed, and fixed in perdition ; no language can depict the 
 despair and horror of such a discovery. Hence, if we can know 
 the worst of our case, before we die, how desirable ! 
 
 2. The subject should render us submissive and thoughtful in 
 every scene of life, by which God tries our hope and proves our 
 faith. Comparatively, it is of no importance what we suffer here, 
 if we may, by these sufferings, be waked from our delusions and 
 escape the wrath to come. If our enjoyments in the present 
 
THE CHRISTIAN S SHEET ANCHOR. 195 
 
 world should be in some measure diminished, it is a matter of small 
 moment, if by this means we can be qualified for the rest and en- 
 joyment of heaven. If we find that the fruits of our afflictions are 
 to take away sin, we may rather rejoice that God will deal with 
 us so kindly. The early Christians took joyfully the spoiling of 
 their goods, knowing in themselves that they had in heaven a bet- 
 ter and an enduring substance. If our hope in heaven is unwaver- 
 ing, it must be about all that the good man needs it is that far 
 more exceeding and eternal weight of glory that must satisfy us, 
 even if it be an inheritance in reserve. 
 
 3. If our hope is such that we expect not to be ashamed of it at 
 the last, let us not be ashamed of it now T . 
 
 Men are often seen to conduct as if they were mortified at the 
 idea of being considered believers. They have been known to 
 make an effort to conceal the fact that they had taken upon them 
 the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. They are now ashamed of 
 their hope, or rather, of the Savior who is professedly the object 
 of their hope ; and our apprehension is, that he will be ashamed 
 of them when he shall appear in the glory of his Father and of the 
 holy angels. 
 
 4. In that hope, of which we shall not at last be ashamed, we 
 may now rejoice. " Which hope we have," says an apostle, " as 
 an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast, and entering into that 
 within the veil." Thus our present hope has to do with the joys 
 of heaven. It is the privilege of those who have a good hope 
 through grace to rejoice and be happy. The child of God is not 
 called to gloominess, and darkness, and sorrow, and apprehension. 
 He is the only man that can be happy, whatever scenes may open 
 around him. " Though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall 
 fruit be in the vines :-the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields 
 shall yield no meat : the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there 
 shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet he will rejoice in the Lord, will 
 joy in the God of his salvation." He has nothing to fear but sin ; 
 God will take care that nothing else hurt him, if he will be careful 
 not to be destroyed by sin. " For I am persuaded that neither 
 death nor life nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers-^nor 
 things present, nor things to come nor height nor depth nor 
 any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of 
 God, which is in Christ Jesus my Lord." "All things are yours; 
 whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world j or life or death; 
 or things present or things to come ; all are yours ; and ye are 
 Christ's, and *Christ is God's." 
 
196 THE CHRISTIAN S SHEET ANCHOR. 
 
 5. To so live as to sustain a high hope of heaven is the way to 
 die in peace, with anticipated prospects of future blessedness. 
 This remark is founded on the conclusion that Christ will prove 
 faithful to his dying people : his promise is, " I will never leave, 
 I will never forsake thee." This promise, I have supposed, must 
 mply that Christ will be present with the dying Christian. 
 
 If on this subject I am mistaken, then this remark goes for no- 
 thing. Oh ! may it not deceive the people of God ! 
 
 I have sometimes tried to believe that the matter was otherwise, 
 and I have thus reasoned : If the people of God are, at any period 
 of life, peculiarly unfaithful, or if they have spared, to a miserably 
 late hour, some darling lust, same right eye sin, from which the 
 covenant of God secures their final emancipation, he may punish 
 them for this on the bed of death, and then suffer them to be saved, 
 "though as by fire" And that passage which seems to intimate, 
 , that when flesh and heart fail us, God may be the strength of our 
 heart and our portion. But after all that has been said, the hope 
 that I may wake up in death, and put forth a repentance that shall 
 reach back and cover the sins of a life-time ; or shall reach many 
 months back, and secure my pardon when flesh and heart is fail- 
 ing, and then save me the necessity of being holy in early life, is 
 rather an attempt to hang the hope of heaven on a spider's web. 
 And when I have thus provided a hope for some departed friend, 
 and who died in horrid darkness, that I fear is lost, I hardly dare 
 rest my own soul upon the fabric I have erected. May the God 
 of mercy give you a good hope, through grace, that shall not per- 
 ish when he taketh away the soul ! May that hope brighten up in 
 death, and be uttered like that of Simeon's, in a song that angels 
 love to hear : " Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, ac- 
 cording to thy word, for mine eyes have seen* thy salvation." 
 
 6. To live with this high hope, is to speak when we are dead. 
 It is said of one, that though dead he yet speaketh. Of Enoch it 
 is said, " He walked with God, and he was not, for God took him." 
 His story will continue to be told as long as there is a single volume 
 of the book of God still in use. And every believer who dies, 
 giving high hopes of heaven, and maintains a life consistent with 
 those hopes, leaves a savor of godliness behind him that will shine 
 through scores of years, and be brighter and brighter when the 
 sun has gone into total darkness. 
 
 There is an eternity attached to the moral actions of every be- 
 liever that can no more become extinct than the rays of light from 
 
ANCHOR. 197 
 
 the sun can melt away while the sun still shines. The Lord Jesus 
 Christ is the believer's light, and will shine upon them for ever 
 and they by his light see light and the light they see they reflect 
 for ever. Hence every believer is a light that cannot go out 
 when removed from earth he will go to shine in a nobler sphere 
 a star of light for ever. 
 
 7. This subject should show the ungodly how unprepared they 
 are to die. What would be a preparation to die, is a preparation 
 to live. 
 
SERMON XV. 
 
 HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 
 
 1 JOHN I. 3. 
 
 And truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. 
 
 THERE is an interchange of relationship and affection between 
 the parts of God's holy kingdom, which it is delightful to contem- 
 plate. There is no doubt a sublime and holy fellowship between 
 the different persons of the Godhead, laying a foundation for unin- 
 terrupted and never-ending enjoyment. There is a communion 
 and a friendship, reciprocal and permanent, between God and an- 
 gels, and between him and glorified spirits, and this fellowship is 
 kindly extended to the members of the church militant. " Our 
 fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.'* 
 What an enterprise of grace, to establish communion between a 
 world of rebels and their Maker ! And how surprising, brethren, 
 that our repeated provocations should not have cut us off from this 
 communion. 
 
 It will be my object to remark upon the nature and extent of 
 this fellowship. It is acknowledged to be a subject on which one 
 can obtain no distinctness of views without the aid of experience. 
 If it should be a precious hour with you the next time you come 
 to meet him at his table, and Christ should bring you into his ban- 
 queting house, and spread over you the banner of his love, you 
 will learn more of the nature of this fellowship in that single hour, 
 than would be taught you, by a gospel ministry, unassisted by that 
 experience, in a century. We are told 
 
 I. That our fellowship is with the Father. This fellowship origi- 
 nates, 
 
 1. In the relation of Creator and creature. Here is opened the 
 first intercourse between heaven and earth. Creatures drop from 
 his hand, and immediately raise their eye to him as the Author of 
 their being. On this relationship is founded a most endearing in- 
 tercourse. God must take pleasure in viewing his creature, in 
 seeing it precisely the being of his choice, and encouraging it to 
 
HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 199 
 
 lean upon his arm ; and the creature, till alienated by some ill-fat- 
 ed apostacy, must take pleasure in surveying the uncreated excel- 
 lences of his Maker. This relationship extends to unholy beings 
 as entirely as to those that are holy, but through the influence of 
 depravity it generates in their case no fellowship. God abhors 
 the vessel he has formed, and the potsherd strives with his Maker. 
 It is only where the relationship has not been sundered by aposta- 
 cy that it becomes the basis of a pleasant and permanent commu- 
 nion. 
 
 2. There exists between believers and their heavenly Father 
 the relationship of Benefactor and recipient, constituting a medium 
 of delightful fellowship. His hands daily dispense our blessings. 
 What he gives us we gather. He opens his hand and we are 
 abundantly supplied. Conscious of our dependence, we approach 
 his throne by prayer, and spread our wants before him, and he is 
 pleased with our confidence and encourages us to repeat our re- 
 quests. Thus through the medium of a kind and watchful provi- 
 dence, there is kept open an intercourse between heaven and earth. 
 The benefits being dispensed with benevolence, and received with 
 ingenuous gratitude, lead to pure and holy fellowship between the 
 dispenser and the beneficiary. God is also the benefactor of un- 
 godly men, but his benefits are not received with thanksgiving, 
 nor spent obediently, hence there is opened between God and them 
 no delightful intercourse. They receive his mercies as the beast 
 feeds in his pastures, and drinks at the brook, unmindful of his 
 Benefactor. 
 
 3. The relation of Lawgiver and subject creates a tender and in- 
 teresting fellowship. The moral Governor makes known his will, 
 gives to law its sanctions, issues promises, and presents motives 
 to obedience, and the dutiful subject becomes cheerfully the Lord's 
 servant, and thus is generated an interesting communion. God is 
 present by his Spirit to expound his law ; and his subjects waiting 
 to know the will of their sovereign, take pleasure in obedience, 
 and are loved by their Lord. Hence the infinite space between 
 God and man is filled, and the heart of the Lawgiver and his sub- 
 jects mingle their affections, in a grand and noble fellowship. 
 There is the same relationship between God and his disobedient 
 subjects. Devils are the subjects of God's moral government, and 
 will be under obligation to obedience for ever, but depravity mars, 
 and, when it is total, destroys communion. 
 
 4. That which crowns the whole, which blesses all the other 
 relationships, and is finally the principal source of communion, is 
 
200 HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 
 
 the mutual attachment which subsists between God and his people. 
 He has put his fear in their hearts, has brought them to delight in 
 his statutes, and to walk in them, and they have chosen him as 
 their Lord. They claim him as their Father, and they are owned 
 by him as his dutiful children. They approve all" his character 
 and delight in his praise, and he takes pleasure in them, puts upon 
 them his own beauties, makes them what he can love, and then 
 loves them. Thus we have fellowship with the Father, and this 
 fellowship will be increasingly sweet till we are prepared for his 
 presence, and are joined to the full assembly of the Church of the 
 first-born in heaven. 
 
 II. Not only have we fellowship with the Father, but with his 
 Son Jesus Christ. With him we have fellowship, 
 
 1. As Redeemer and redeemed. When we we had forfeited our 
 life at the hand of justice, the Lord Jesus Christ took our place, 
 and bore our sins. To him we owe our escape from hell, and that 
 escape he purchased with his bloody sweat and dying groans. 
 The price of our redemption could be no less than the life of the 
 Redeemer. And now, from the throne of his glory, he dispenses 
 the blessings which he died to purchase, to those who are made 
 willing in the day of his power. These thankfully receive, and 
 daily rejoice in the fruits of his redeeming love. Thus is opened 
 between the Savior and his people an inexhaustible resource of 
 pure and precious fellowship. 
 
 2. We are in fellowship with the Redeemer as the head and the 
 members. Says an apostle, " We are members of his body, of his 
 flesh and his bones." He is to his people a source of spiritual 
 life, and they in a sense, not to be fully told, constitute the body 
 of Christ. Their life is hid in him, and from him circulates through 
 all his members, as the natural head governs the vital principles 
 of the body. Hence he views his people as parts, precious parts^ 
 of himself. 
 
 The figure is changed, but the same idea is retained, when he is 
 called the vine, and his people the branches. We know that they 
 live only by their union to the vine. Thus the Church daily de- 
 rives its strength and its life from Christ. For their nourishment 
 he has graciously provided on earth a gospel feast, and in heaven 
 an endless banquet ; and if any hungry, thirsty soul would see 
 Christ, he will be there to sustain him with the bread of heaven. 
 I hope many of my readers will feel the truth of the text. The 
 avenues of this communion will be opened, and we shall know the 
 
HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 201 
 
 blessedness of having fellowship with the Father, and with his Son 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 When we view the Redeemer in his human nature, there are 
 still other sources of fellowship. 
 
 We fellowship him in his sufferings. From him and from us God 
 in his wisdom may hide his face. When he cried out, " My God, 
 my God, why hast thou forsaken me V he came so into our place 
 that we can sympathize with him. The believer is sometimes 
 deserted of the sensible presence of his Lord. In such a case, 
 our trial is similar, but probably far less dreadful than his. Hence, 
 under the frowns of Heaven he pitied us, and we have a very sen- 
 sible fellowship with him. 
 
 Or if men rise upon us in malice, persecute us, cast out our 
 names as evil, and account us the disturbers of the peace, or even 
 nail us to a cross, Christ can fellowship us. He is at present 
 raised above the malice of men, but he did bear their reproach. 
 He has not forgotten the impious band that united to achieve his 
 ruin. The scribes, pharisees, Sadducees, the high priest, Pilate, 
 Judas, and the whole sanhedrim united their forces for his over- 
 throw. Though in heaven, he still recollects the fraud, the false- 
 hood, the treachery, and malice, which lined his path and set his 
 temple with thorns. He can never forget the ingratitude of that 
 generation whose diseases he healed, whose leprosies he cleansed, 
 whose ears he unstopped, whose blind he enlightened, whose poor 
 he fed, whose sins he pardoned, and whose dead he raised. In 
 these matters we have not a High Priest who cannot be touched 
 with our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, 
 yet without sin. Hence, between him and his people, when called 
 to similar trials, there is a fellowship of sufferings. To have been 
 fellow-sufferers in the same exile, the same prison, the same 
 bondage, the same shipwreck, or the same wilderness, creates, you 
 know, an endearing fellowship. And, brethren, it will endear 
 Christ to us, and us to him, for ever, that we have passed the same 
 desert, and were beset by the same race of unpitying beings. And 
 the promise, you know, is, that if we suffer with him, we shall 
 also reign with him. 
 
 And we have experienced together the malice of the same 
 tempter. He knew the intrigues, felt the buffetings, and bore the 
 malice of the adversary. He still remembers the forty days in the 
 wilderness, and can furnish us with the same weapons with which 
 he conquere^. And we are riot ignorant of his devices. Still he 
 <*oeth about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour. But 
 26 
 
202 HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 
 
 in all our sufferings from his malice, our Redeemer is nigh to help 
 us, and has fellowship with us in our trials. 
 
 And the same is true of the sufferings incident to human nature. 
 He endured hunger, thirst, want, pain, and poverty. " The foxes 
 have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man 
 hath not where to lay his head." The best birth-place that could 
 be furnished him wa"s a manger, the best home a cottage, and the 
 best offering, when his mother was purified, a pair of doves. And 
 his life was oppressed throughout with the same poverty. He eat 
 bread in the sweat of his face, and was glad to rest his bones on a 
 bed of straw. Hence, if his people are poor, if they lack bread, or 
 raiment, or home, or friend, or offering, he feels for them ; and 
 there is produced an endearing fellowship. If Christ will pass with 
 us through the same vale of poverty, and through the same scenes 
 of want, neglect, disease, and pain, we can utter no complaint. 
 
 Even in death the fellowship remains unbroken. He felt and 
 suffered under the cold chills of death, and that the most painful. 
 His tender nerves quivered on the ragged nails, his temples bled 
 under the thorns, and his heart upon the point of the spear. Hence 
 Christ can fellowship us when we die. We shall meet with him 
 in the valley, and his rod, and his staff will comfort us. How sweet 
 will it be to have fellowship with him there ! 
 
 And we can have fellowship with him in his resurrection. He 
 has passed through all the terrors of the grave, he has lighted that 
 prison, has chased away the glooms of the vault, and has prepared 
 for us a song against that hour, " Oh, death, where is thy sting V 
 He has secured to his followers a happy resurrection. Angels 
 heard him exclaim, as he rose, " I am the resurrection and the 
 life ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he 
 live ; and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die." He 
 has styled himself the first fruits of the resurrection, and we shall 
 all have fellowship with him in his escape from the damps of the 
 sepulchre. As he is our head, if we love him, we shall rise with 
 him to everlasting life. How sweet to have so finished a fellow- 
 ship with our Redeemer. 
 
 But, after all this is said, the grand medium of fellowship is 
 holy love. We must have complacency in his character, and he 
 in ours, that our sympathies may be perfect. He must clothe us 
 with his own beauties before he can fellowship us, and we must 
 have a spiritual discernment of his excellences. Hence, how cer- 
 tain that impenitent men can hold no Communion with him. And 
 how undeniable that our fellowship with him in the coming world 
 will be more perfect than in the present. We shall then see him 
 
HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 203 
 
 as he is, and our love to him will be perfect. Let us attend a 
 little to this future and more perfect fellowship. 
 
 1. Our fellowship will hereafter be richer and sweeter, as we 
 shall leave behind us all our fears and doubts. There remains so 
 much iniquity in all our hearts, that the most holy have much oc- 
 casion to fear that they shall never reach the kingdom of heaven. 
 And in all our duties, and our songs, our feasts, these fears are pre- 
 sent to alloy our pleasures. But when Christ shall appear we shall 
 be like him, for we shall see him as he is. The redeemed shall be 
 confirmed in a state of holiness and happiness. Our fears will be 
 gone, the conflict ended, the foe defeated, the prize won, and the 
 palms of victory awarded. Then what a sweet communion ! On 
 looking back we shall see the wilderness all trodden over, not an- 
 other snare or pit in our path, not another serpent to bite, nor foe 
 to assail. Jordan and the desert behind, our feet planted on the 
 hills of promise, and our hearts at rest. We may descry other 
 pilgrims, toiling, weary, tempted, trembling, "faint, yet pursuing," 
 but our own case happily decided. And who can calculate what 
 joy he shall feel when his fears are gone, how sweet that marriage 
 supper where there will mingle no apprehensions of disappointment. 
 
 2. Our fellowship will be more enlightened. Here, at the best, 
 we see but through a glass darkly. Every view we take of Christ 
 and truth is limited and obscure, but in heaven we shall know even 
 as we are known. This is a dark world, that will be lighted by the 
 glory of God and the Lamb. And our communion with the Re- 
 deemer will increase its pleasure, in proportion to our increase of 
 light. 
 
 3. The fellowship of heaven will not be disturbed with unbelief. 
 Faith will have done its work and be changed to vision. The veil 
 will be rent, every object of faith be a reality, and the things un- 
 seen be distinctly developed. If at present, though now we see 
 him not, yet believing, we can often rejoice with joy unspeakable 
 and full of glory, how increased will be that joy, and how unsul- 
 lied that glory when our eyes shall see him ! 
 
 4. Our communion in heaven will be erihanced by the absence of 
 every unbeliever. We shall have no apprehension that any traitor 
 has taken his seat with us at the heavenly banquet. They that were 
 ready will have gone into the marriage, and the door will be shut. 
 The tares will have been gathered up. In the apostolic family there 
 will be no Judas. We shall cheerfully extend the fellowship we 
 feel to all who shall drink with us of the river of the water of life. 
 
 5. And what is a still richer thought, we shall be holy. No 
 
204* HEAVENLY FELLOWSHIP. 
 
 body of sin and death will be there to mar the feast. Every cor- 
 ruption will be cured, every grace made perfect. The Redeemer 
 will frown upon none of the holy family. Oh, can it be that I shall 
 be there, and you brethren, so changed ! No guilty conscience to 
 spoil our fellowship. We shall feel that we have a right there, shall 
 apprehend no wrong motive, shall fear no repulse, and be disturbed 
 with no wrong affections. This busy world will not intrude its 
 cares, to mar our pleasures and pollute our offerings. As we shall 
 yield ourselves to the Redeemer in every song, there will be no re- 
 serve. He will be seen to deserve the whole heart, and the whole 
 will be his. No other object will claim a share in our worship, or 
 divert the current of our affections. Hence our communion with 
 the Redeemer will be uninterrupted, and unalloyed. Every act of 
 fellowship will raise us higher, and still higher in the scale of be- 
 ing, till at length we shall find our hearts glowing with an ardor 
 akin to that which angels feel, and our song vying with theirs in the 
 sweetness of its melody. Brethren, let it be our paramount con- 
 cern to equip ourselves for this sublime and immortal fellowship. 
 
 6. There is something pleasant in the thought that we shall not 
 carry to the heavenly banquet these weak and dying bodies. At 
 these communions we are liable to be faint and weary. Sabbaths 
 and ordinances lose at present much of their sweetness through 
 the morbid influence of a diseased body. The spirit is willing but 
 the flesh is weak. We tire amid the heavenly road. Hence many 
 of our tears, hence many of our groans, and much of our gloom 
 and despondency. But, when once we have breathe*d the air of 
 heaven, we shall feel all the vigor of youth, we shall tire no more, 
 we shall be dull no more. And how rich an ingredient will this be 
 in our future fellowship ! 
 
 FINALLY. In the coming world our fellowship with Christ, and 
 with his holy family will continue uninterrupted for ever. Much 
 of our comfort in prayer, and in the ordinances, and in all our 
 acts of devotion in the present life, is destroyed by the intruding 
 thought that the season will terminate. If we had begun to taste 
 the blessedness of heaven, and had almost forgotten that we were 
 in the body, we were soon reminded of our mistake, and were con- 
 strained to descend and have our ardor cooled by a flood of world- 
 ly cares. These Sabbaths, and these communions have their 
 periods. We shall find nothing permanent till we come to heaven, 
 and there nothing will be transitory. Our song and our fellowship 
 will be increasingly new for ever. 
 
SERMON XVI. 
 
 THE WISE BUILDER.* 
 
 PROVERBS XIV. 1. 
 
 Every wise woman buildeth her house*. 
 
 IT is remarkable that the Scriptures have adapted their instruc- 
 tion to every character and condition in human life. Here the fa- 
 ther and the master, the son and the servant, learn their duties. 
 Here the husband and the wife, the child, the youth, and the old 
 man ; the magistrate and the monarch are each instructed in his 
 respective obligations. Hence every one should study that book, 
 and- form a character after the model it exhibits. The text will 
 lead me, as you perceive, to address one great division of the hu- 
 man family. This division includes about half of our race. It 
 will be my object to exhibit some thoughts calculated to aid in 
 forming the female character. The text suggests a natural di- 
 vision, and will le#d me to describe the wise woman, and show that 
 such a woman will build up her house. 
 
 I. I am to describe the wise woman. It will be obvious that in 
 this description I must not confine myself to any particular age or 
 situation, but must follow her through all the various offices and re- 
 lationships which she may be called to sustain. I observe, then in the 
 
 1st place That she must know how to manage with prudence and 
 care the concerns of a family. All other qualifications- combined 
 would never atone for deficiency here. Inspiration declares it the 
 business of the woman " to guide the house." Where the mother 
 is a cipher in her family, it deranges every domestic concern, and 
 is a certain prelude to poverty and misery. No other person can 
 feel the interest, or endure the fatigue, requisite to the discharge 
 of these duties. Hence the daughter, who for* any reason what- 
 ever, is kept ignorant of domestic concerns, is rendered incapable 
 of filling the station which the God of nature has assigned her. 
 And to be willing to remain ignorant argues a depraved taste. It 
 should be our aim to prepare ourselves to be useful in the place 
 
 * Prepared and delivered at a donation party given by the ladies of his congregation during the 
 author's residence at Amherst, Mass. 
 
206 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 assigned us, and to fill that place wjth dignity and honor. Hence 
 every daughter, and every wife, should cheerfully habituate herself 
 to the burden of domestic care. 
 
 How many when they had thought themselves equipped for the 
 direction of a family, have needed to learn the first principles of 
 domestic economy. That taste which prepares a female to adjust 
 the ornaments of her house, is not sufficient, nor that wealth 
 which can furnish it with elegance; nor that ruggedness which 
 can endure the drudgery of home ; nor the whole combined. 
 Health is an invaluable blessing, and a fine taste is a source of 
 much comfort, and wealth has its value ; but in connection with 
 all these, there must be a nice and accurate knowledge of domes- 
 tic economy, to render a wife a help-meet. The husband is ru- 
 ined who does not find his house a respectable, social, neat, and 
 happy home. If he can be more happy in any other house than 
 his own, he is a lost man. 
 
 2. Jl wise woman will improve her taste, and her manners. By 
 taste, in this connection, 1 mean a relish for the beauties of nature 
 and of art ; and by manners, a suitable expression of a good taste. 
 Some taste is indispensable in the decent and respectable manage- 
 ment of a family. The design of the domestic relations was the 
 augmentation of social blessedness. Mere subsistence is not aL 
 we needy but all we can acquire without some improvement of taste : 
 and no faculty is more improvable. Its improvement must add to 
 our innocent enjoyment, and was given us for this purpose. 
 
 I am aware that many have been considered proud because they 
 exhibited taste. But the probability is, that one can be as proud 
 of his hovel and his rags, as another of his palace and his dress. 
 I have seen beings in the shape of men, who were proud of their 
 deformities, and have exhibited no shame when they had acted the 
 ape, and played the mastiff. They are proud who treat with neg- 
 lect or contempt their equals or inferiors ; or exhibit scorn 
 towards those who cannot make the same show as themselves of 
 beauty, learning, or riches. But all this has no connection with 
 taste, except to evince its absence. 
 
 Why should not the improvement of this faculty as well as 
 others, render us happy 1 Why are the civilized more happy than 
 the savage 1 Why is the landscape spread out before us unless an 
 improved taste may derive pleasure from the view ? One univer- 
 sal and dull monotony would have served every purpose of utility, 
 aside from the pleasures of taste. The flower might have had 
 but one hue, and the rainbow but one color, if taste is a useless 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 207 
 
 faculty. The varied sceneries of spring, harvest, and winter, are 
 useless, as far as we can see, but to the eye of taste. Has the 
 wise Creator, who in everything else had his purpose, painted na- 
 ture in the richest variety of shade without design 1 He cannot 
 be charmed himself with these created beauties, and the brute has 
 no relish for variety and harmony. If done for men, and done in 
 vain till the taste be cultivated, how incumbent on all who would 
 be happy to prepare themselves to see a God employed in paint- 
 ing the beauteous landscape ! The female especially, whose taste, 
 when cultivated, is exquisitely delicate, who would answer the end 
 of her being, and take pleasure in the variety and beauty of God's 
 works, will not permit a talent so useful to be unimproved. 
 
 And with her taste there is no fear that she will not improve her 
 manners. I acknowledge that this is a species of improvement 
 which relates principally to the present world, but it has an impor- 
 tant bearing upon religion. The Bible enjoins it upon us to be 
 courteous ; it qualifies us to make our religion useful $ it repels 
 prejudice, and gives us readier access to the heart. Ease of man- 
 ners will procure us friends, extend our influence, and increase our 
 usefulness. In a female, it creates a dignity which commands re- 
 spect, an enchanting softness that ensures esteem. It is not reli- 
 gion, but it is her handmaid, and is not beneath the dignity of a 
 minister to teach or a Christian to learn. 
 
 3. Jl wise woman will aim to improve her mind. This department 
 of our nature, to which we ascribe perception, thought, reason, 
 and judgment, is capable of vast enlargement. It is at first, like 
 the body, small of stature ; and its first operations, like the infant 
 actions, are feeble*. Like the body it grows to maturity by nutri- 
 ment ; or by neglect, may remain through life in its infant state. 
 It is amazing how circumscribed are the limits of thought in some 
 whose years indicate wisdom. When they should have explored 
 much of the natural and moral world, their minds have scarcely 
 left the threshold of their habitation. And ignorance is sure to fos- 
 ter base affections. Hence pride, envy, jealousy, censoriousness, 
 suspicion, and calumny. The ignorant judge of every object by 
 their own limited experience. Every action and every object is 
 brought to the standard of their own contracted apprehensions ; is 
 hewn down, and shaped and moulded, to their own dwarfish concep- 
 tions. Hence one-half of the tumult and misery of our world. 
 The ignorant have within themselves no source of happiness, and 
 they are a barrier to the happiness of others. Like some dull do- 
 
208 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 | 
 
 mestic animal, they never go abroad for food, but stay rather and 
 starve about the place of their home. 
 
 The mind is enlarged by receiving ideas, and by using them as 
 materials of thought and reasoning. And these materials may be 
 collected, not merely from books, but from the volume of nature, 
 and from every event of providence and of grace. To enlarge the 
 mind is merely to learn to think wisely ; and is the duty of all, to 
 whom God has kindly given the power of thought. 
 
 To be willing to remain ignorant, -is to feel indifferent whether 
 God's great object in our creation be accomplished. We have at 
 present only begun our existence ; we are destined to a nobler 
 state. If we prove obedient subjects to God's holy kingdom, he 
 will continue, by his providence and his grace, to ennoble our na- 
 tures for ever. The infant in its mother's arms, if not injured by 
 her who should be its best friend, is yet to be an angel. All 
 through eternity we may hope that it will be still rising to a no- 
 bler stature. " It doth not yet appear what we shall be." And 
 happily we live in an age when no man presumes to say, that the 
 female mind possesses any natural imbecility, which must neces- 
 sarily cramp its growth, or depress its>manly stature. 
 
 Every wise woman, then, will enlarge her mind ; will read, ana 
 think, and reason. She will be especially ambitious to grow in the 
 knowledge of God ; will become acquainted with her own being, 
 and with being in general ; that she may be the more happy, and 
 the more useful. Sisters, mothers, there lies a world around you, 
 and within your reach, which it is your duty to explore. It rests 
 with you to determine whether you will carry with you to the 
 grave a contracted mind, or a mind large as the regions of space. 
 Men have been found base enough to libel your characters, and 
 have pronounced the female sex made for servitude. The re 
 proach is unmerited, and has been promptly repelled. It belongs 
 to you to settle this question for ever, and show the slanderer that 
 you are capable of an intellectual dignity, which can look him into 
 deserved contempt. Endeavor in yourselves, and your daughters, 
 to give noble examples of female magnanimity ; to reach that 
 growth of thought that shall make you and them blessings to un- 
 born generations, and to the world. 
 
 4. Ji wise woman will endeavor to enlighten and improve her con- 
 science. This is that faculty of the soul by which we weigh the 
 morality of an action ; than which no power of our nature is more 
 susceptible of improvement. To improve the conscience we must 
 give it light, and let it guide us. Every one has a conscience, and 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. . 209 
 
 t I 
 
 will be guided more w less by its dictates, in the way of life or 
 death ; and, if that conscience be uninformed, or misinformed, it 
 will lead us on the route to ruin. The papist is conscientious 
 when he worships the mother of Christ, the Mahometan when he 
 stabs his brother, the Hindoo when he immolates his offspring, and 
 the Persian when he prays to the sun. Paul, while he persecuted 
 the saints, thought he did God service. There is no calculating 
 where conscience may lead us, if it be unenlightened by the Bible 
 or the Spirit of God. Well enlightened, it guides us to happiness 
 and heaven. But wrong will not become right because we are 
 conscientious in the wrong. This has been supposed to be the 
 meaning of that text, " As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he ;" 
 but this is a very gross perversion of a very plain passage. In a 
 female a tender conscience is <m indispensable ornament. To see 
 her fly from wrong, as the tender nerve shrinks from the touch of 
 fire, is her highest beauty. It casts about her a glory which no 
 slanderer can tarnish ; a beauty which neither time, nor care, nor 
 age, nor trials can deface. She will have honor in any circle where 
 her name is mentioned, and influence in whatever concern she en- 
 lists. These will attach an honor to her offspring, and there will 
 rest a glory upon her grave that will long survive her ashes. 
 
 One of this description I knew, ajid I love to remember, and 
 mention her. Her presence awed sin into shame, rendered the 
 slanderer dumb, and the proud humble. All about her loved her, 
 for she loved them. Unless she could speak well of her neighbor 
 she was silent. Her piety was respected, because her conscience 
 was enlightened. She gathered around her the pious and the wise, 
 and made them happy till she was summoned to heaven. They 
 wept at her funeral, and her mantle, I hope, fell on some who wit- 
 nessed her ascension. Her children were respected by all who 
 knew their mother, and some of them I hope will enjoy her socie- 
 ty in heaven. 
 
 A female without a conscience is a frightful character. Her hus- 
 band can have no confidence in her fidelity, and who can guarantee 
 the character of her children 1 No prudent man will make her 
 house his home. Her touch pollutes, and her embrace is death 
 To all about her she opens the avenues of infamy and hell. To 
 the full extent of her influence she carries misery and tears. She- 
 destroys her children, poisons the streams of friendship, breaks the 
 bonds of affection, and chills every stream of social and celestial 
 life. And, finally, there settles upon her grave a dark, black cloud, 
 a cloud in which there is no bow of promise, a horrid beacon to 
 27 
 
210 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 unborn generations, warning them not to make shipwreck of con- 
 science. 
 
 5. Jl wise woman will be particularly careful to cultivate the heart. 
 There may be improvements made in the temper and affections of 
 the heart, aside from religion. The instinctive affections are capa- 
 ble of improvement by other means than grace. Selfish motives, 
 or an improved taste, may lead us to become tender, affectionate, 
 kind, and soft, in our social and domestic intercourse. 
 
 Still grace is the only effectual source of right affections. The 
 heart is naturally too hard to be much softened by any other than 
 a celestial influence. The baser passions must be eradicated, holy 
 affections infused and cultivated, and the whole life made new, by 
 the same creative power that formed us at first. The female cha- 
 racter when otherwise improved is still essentially defective in the 
 absence of piety. We delight to see them disciplined to domestic 
 care, we admire an improved taste and an enlightened mind, still 
 more a tender conscience, and, most of all, a pious heart. 
 
 Religion, in a female, secures all her interests. It graces her 
 character, promotes her peace, endears her friendship, secures for 
 her esteem, and adds a dignity and a worth indescribable to all her 
 deeds. How sweet when the mistress of a family is the handmaid 
 of the Lord ; when the mother of children is an example of piety ; 
 when the wife of the bosom is espoused to the Redeemer, how de- 
 sirable that the daughter be a chaste virgin to Christ ; that the sis- 
 ter lean on his arm, who sticketh closer than a brother j that the 
 songsters of the temple belong to the heavenly choir ! How plea- 
 sant, when the absent husband can think of home, and reflect that 
 angels watch the place, that they may guard the interest and the 
 health of his heaven-born companion, and the children of the cove- 
 nant ! When about to leave her a widow, and commit to her ex- 
 clusive care his helpless offspring, how consoling, if her character 
 is such, that she can lean upon the widow's God, and put her chil- 
 dren under the guardianship of Him who is a Father of the father- 
 less ! Then he quits the world calm and happy, supported by the 
 hope that he shall meet their mother and them all in heaven. 
 
 Religion has a peculiar sweetness when it mingles with the 
 modest softness of the female character. So the dew-drop bor- 
 . rows beauty and fragrance from the rose. 
 
 Females need the comforts, the hopes, and the prospects of re- 
 ligion, more, if possible, than the other sex. Subjected peculiarly 
 to the trials of disobedience, and the weakness of a feebler consti- 
 tution, their state, when raised by improvement, and propped with 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 211 
 
 Christian consolations, is still a state of subjection and pain. Sup- 
 pose one of your number yoked to a husband of acid temper, and 
 the prey of disappointment and disease, where, but from heaven, 
 does there dawn upon her one beam of light. But if she can look 
 upward and descry a place of rest when the toils of life are fin- 
 ished ; a home where she may be happy, a friend who will ever be 
 kind, and a nature raised above fatigue, and pain, and death then, 
 while the pains of living are softened by the hope of dying, and 
 earth blotted out by the glories of heaven, she can exercise patience 
 and submission till the time appointed for her release. Thus re- 
 ligion fills the cup with pleasure that was full of gall, converts the 
 veriest hovel into a palace, and adapting the spirit to its lodgment, 
 makes it happy. Thus the hope of heaven, if that hope were a 
 dream, smoothes her passage to the tomb, and renders religion 
 essential to her happiness. , 
 
 Thus I have enumerated some of the qualifications of a wise 
 woman. To obtain them will require much pains and many sacri- 
 fices, but, when acquired, they are worth more than worlds. And 
 if time may be spent, and pains endured, and ease, and health, and 
 even life, sacrificed to acquire riches, which at the best are poor, 
 uncertain, and unsatisfying ; may not more pain be endured, and 
 greater sacrifices be made in acquiring that wisdom that will ren- 
 der us happy in life, in death, and forever. 
 
 Were this our only state, intellectual improvement would lose 
 more than half its value : but we are to live forever ; and the pre- 
 sent state is preparatory to a future. This is but the infancy of 
 our being, and the mind is our better part, and is capable of indefi- 
 nite enlargement. The more enlarged, the happier will be our 
 state in heaven, and it may be our lot to grow in knowledge for 
 ever. Such are our ideas of that far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory promised believers in the coming world. 
 
 The base suggestion, that as the female is confined at home she 
 needs no intellectual improvement, has long since been repelled. 
 She may pass through life alone ; shall she become the prey of the 
 first villain that may wish to rob her of her rights 1 And if united 
 to a husband, is it not most desirable that she be capable of being 
 his help-meet 1 The laws of many of our states, have wisely 
 directed that the daughter share equally with her brother in the 
 estate of the father ; and shall she not be capable of managing her 
 own interest ? 
 
 Mothers who have not had the advantages which their cfaughters 
 now have for improvement, will join me in these remarks, and will 
 
212 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 urge their daughters to husband well their opportunities, and take 
 a high and dignified station in the grade of being. But I proceed 
 
 II. To show that a wise woman buildeth her house. The lan- 
 guage is figurative, the house being expressive of the family. 
 Hence, to build her house, is to promote the best good of her hus- 
 band and her offspring. It would be very easy to show, in a vari- 
 ety of particulars, how the influence of a wise woman must sub- 
 serve this object. We are not afraid to inquire, in the 
 
 1 Place How such a woman will affect their estate. On this 
 subject I remark she will not render them poor. Her refined feel- 
 ings, and ardent piety, may expend something in charity. But 
 this will not diminish their wealth, for " The liberal soul shall be 
 made fat." If she should perform less manual labor than some 
 others, her prudence and economy will make amends, and more 
 than amends for the loss sustained. Her wisdom will save more 
 than her hands could earn. Not always does the woman who can 
 perform the most labor increase most her husband's estate. Some 
 have labored for ever and yet have made their families poor because 
 ignorant of domestic economy. Hard labor is sometimes asso- 
 ciated with wasteful extravagance. A wise woman will not waste 
 her husband's estate in extravagant dress and ornaments. These 
 are more generally the marks of a small mind, and a bad taste. 
 Those who are first in the fashion are sometimes last at the library, 
 and perhaps are never there. 
 
 But if her books and her charities should draw upon her hus- 
 band's estate, still such a sister, such a wife, such a mother, is an 
 invaluable blessing. " A man's life consisteth not in the abundance 
 of the things which he possesseth." Of what value are riches but 
 to buy comforts. And why not spend some of our wealth to feed 
 the mind! 
 
 But I have 'hinted, that it is not by mere dint of labor that the 
 wife performs her part in the accumulation of estate. Possessed 
 of an improved mind, there are a variety of ways in which she 
 can advance the interests of her family. She can help her husband 
 lay his plans, can teach his children, can draw him back from liti- 
 gation, can guide his concerns in his absence, expend to advantage 
 the fruits of his industry and, in ways innumerable, increase their 
 mutual interest, accommodation, and comfort. 
 
 2. She will render her family respectable. This is the meaning 
 of that remark of the wise man, when, speaking of the virtuous 
 ivoman, he says, " Her husband is known in the gates, when he 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 213 
 
 sitteth among the eiders of the land." He will imbibe from her 
 good impressions of character, and may rise, through her unnoticed 
 influence, to a commanding respectability. How often are child- 
 ren regarded with attention on account of their mother. This 
 alone has often introduced them to the best of families. How it 
 honored Timothy that his mother and grandmother could be so 
 respectably mentioned ! And how it reproaches Ahaziah when 
 said, that " His mother was his counsellor to do wickedly." It is 
 probably true that the mother does more to give her house its cha- 
 racter than the father. And not unfrequently does the wise 
 woman entail respectability to her children's children. 
 
 3. She will render her family happy. She will so manage as not 
 to irritate their passions, she will concentrate their wishes, and 
 identify their interest. Her frown will suppress every quarrel, or 
 rather her wisdom will prevent the evil. Her example will breathe 
 through the house a mild and soft atmosphere, that will soothe 
 every passion. While her wisdom will enlighten them ; her indus- 
 try will make them love employ ; her subordination to her hus- 
 band, wiL subject them to her authority ; her prudence will render 
 them discreet, her sympathy will render them compassionate, and 
 her active benevolence teach them charity. Her softness will 
 sweeten their manners, her gentleness render them mild, her cour- 
 tesy render them respectful, her ingenuousness render them hon- 
 est, and her discretion teach them caution. Her modesty will 
 make them unassuming, her uprightness render them just, her ten- 
 derness make them affectionate ; and we cannot but hope that her 
 religion will render them pious. 
 
 There is no resisting the combined influence of so many virtues. 
 And what she cannot do by her precepts, and her examples, she 
 effects by her prayers. She will often carry them in her arms to 
 heaven, and commit them to his care who can sway the heart. 
 This done, she will have a powerful hold upon their consciences. 
 While they respect her and love her, they will be ashamed and 
 afraid to offend her. She will train up their consciences to respect 
 her laws, and her government will not be limited by her presence. 
 I knew a case when the son was afraid to disobey the mother,, even 
 when she could never have known of the disobedience. By thus 
 laying restraint upon the conscience a wise woman will extend her 
 influence to unborn generations. She will generate consciences 
 like her own, to operate when hers is released from its labors. 
 Her mantle, as she ascends to heaven, will fall upon her children, 
 who will live to prolong her memory and build her house. 
 
214 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 And while the wise woman will thus bless her own family, she 
 will extend a happy influence to others. And yet all the good she 
 does from home will recoil upon her own head. There will be a 
 reaction that will bless her own house. Her kindness, her hospi- 
 tality, her sympathy, her alms, and her prayers, will return into 
 her own bosom. While she scatters blessings, they will accumu- 
 late at home. While she prays for others, many prayers will be 
 offered for her and her family. While she feeds the poor, poverty 
 will desert her doors. While she sends the gospel to the heathen, 
 her own children will begin to live : thus " she that tarries at home 
 will divide the spoil." She generates a light to shine into distant 
 lands, and the reflected beams illumine her own habitation. And 
 when she is dead, generations unborn will read upon her tomb, 
 " The memory of the just is blessed." 
 
 REFLECTIONS. 
 
 1. Females see how they are to rise in the scale of being. Their 
 state has always been a state of subordination, and, in some coun- 
 tries, incredibly servile. The gospel emancipates them. But even 
 in gospel lands they have never risen so high as they may. And 
 they must rise by increasing in wisdom. When the sun would 
 break the bars of winter he does it by a mild and gentle influence. 
 He does not summon all his fires, and storm the castle of winter 
 with lightnings. He merely shines, and the habitations of ice and 
 frost feel and are melted by his beams. So the female sex must 
 soften the roughness and thaw the coldness of the other sex, by 
 constant and lucid exhibitions of wisdom and goodness. Men can- 
 not be scolded into compassion, nor can resist the melting influ- 
 ence of distinguished and gentle goodness. 
 
 %. You see the importance of supporting good schools. If your 
 daughters are to become wise, and help you build your house, 
 there must be a nursery provided where they may grow. They 
 must have able teachers, and leisure for the acquisition of science. 
 On this important subject the public pulse still beats too low. We 
 cannot rear a wise generation without expense, care, and time. 
 
 3. We see the importance of the gospel. In its absence there 
 would be nothing left that the wise and good could value. And 
 females, although they have no vote in society, have' always ex- 
 erted a kind influence in its support. But for them, many a dis- 
 trict in Zion had been laid waste. And they, in the mean time, 
 promote their own mercies ; for the moment the gospel abandon? 
 a people females lose, in a great degree, their influence, their re 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 215 
 
 spectability, and their comfort : while, under its benign influence, 
 they are wise, respectable, and happy. Hence all heathen lands, 
 and other countries in proportion to their ignorance of the gospel, 
 are marked with the degradation of the female sex. 
 
 4. How important that females make the Scriptures their study. 
 This is the book that must form their characters, and render them 
 wise and good. This, friends, is your guide to honor, happiness, 
 and heaven.- Make it the man of your counsel, the constant com- 
 panion of your solitude, the furniture of your nursery, the subject 
 of your morning and evening study ; and it will prove the nurse 
 of your childhood, the monitor of your youth, the light of your 
 feet, and the lamp of your way; till at length, matured in its doc- 
 trines, and habituated to its duties, it will be your stay in death, 
 and your law in heaven. 
 
 5. But, in order to all this, you must be born again. No woman 
 can be wise and not pious. If you die unsanctified, you will feel 
 yourself to be a fool at the last, though possessed of every other 
 native and acquired excellence. 
 
 The wife can be the means of rendering her husband happy or 
 wretched, now and for ever. To make him happy, let the conjugal 
 affection be strong and tender. Let your bosom friend discover 
 in you a cheerful and unwearied attention to his wants, a charity 
 that can hide his faults, a patience that can endure his roughness, 
 a meekness that can soothe his passions, and a piety that can la- 
 ment his sins. Let him know that you have neither interest nor 
 character distinct from his ; that your hopes are one, your joys 
 one, your tears one, and your cares one. Then you touch every 
 tender string of his heart ; he becomes kind to you and attentive 
 to the gospel. And you may be the means of bringing him to 
 heaven. It is a rare ease, when the husband is in no degree under 
 the influence of his partner. Let that influence then be used in 
 rendering him holy and happy. Then, when the conjugal tie is 
 sundered, you may hope to rise together, and be kindred spirits 
 for ever, and feel a warmer and still warmer attachment through 
 all the years of heaven. 
 
 If you are passing through life alone ; or, if death has severed 
 the cords that bound a husband's heart to yours, and Ao beloved 
 children engross your cares, then is there a miserable world that 
 needs your blessing. You can be peculiarly useful in making a 
 little verdant spot around you, by using the means of grace on all 
 about you, and urging upon them the considerations of life and 
 glory, and in spreading abroad the knowledge of God. You can 
 
216 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 exert an influence which shall wake the energies of a sleeping gen- 
 eration. You can rouse to benevolent exertion, and concentrate 
 the streams of charity, that flow to fertilize the wastes of a ruined 
 world. 
 
 But the duty of mothers, is, if possible, still greater. Immortal 
 beings are committed to your care, perhaps to be saved or lost by 
 your influence. They already feel the effects of your example, 
 and will probably feel them more and more for ever. From you, 
 rather than the father, or any other being on earth, they will take 
 their character. You can render them idle, ungovernable, selfish, 
 and malevolent. You can teach them to be covetous, proud, en- 
 vious, censorious, unkind, and inhospitable. You can form them 
 to a character hated of men, and detested of angels and of God. 
 Oh ! none like you can qualify them for everlasting burnings. Or 
 you can teach them industry, subordination, and benevolence ; can 
 make them generous, modest, prudent, kind, and hospitable : can* 
 with the promised blessing, form them to a character approved of 
 men, and lovely to angels and to God. Oh ! none like you can 
 qualify them to live in heaven. God has given you that influence, 
 that authority, that affection and access, which places your off- 
 spring at your disposal. To whom will they listen, when they will 
 not hear the voice of a mother 1 When her government is despis- 
 ed, who shall control them 1 Who shall love them sufficiently to 
 teach them, when maternal affection cools I Who shall find access 
 to their consciences and their hearts, when barred against the ap- 
 proach of a mother 1 Mother ! the name is very sweet. In all 
 the majesty of maternal love, she can sit down by the heart and 
 conscience of her child, and shape, and mould, and temper it al- 
 most to her pleasure. The world can be excluded, and every pas- 
 sion hushed to calmness, by her maternal sweetness and authority; 
 while in the midst of the calm, she can teach them divine wisdom, 
 fire them with benevolent affections, and give their minds a high 
 and heavenly aspect. 
 
 How pleasant, when the mother may teach her own child. If 
 common benevolence can make it pleasant to teach another^s chil- 
 dren, how delightful the work, when there is joined to this bene- 
 volence the strong, instinctive, maternal affection. Who, if the 
 mother will not, shall teach the child to pray, and lead it on in the 
 way to heaven. May she depend on a stranger, who lacks the in- 
 stinctive stimulus'? We must not forget that our dear childrdn 
 are depraved, and will choose the way to death ; are in a world full 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 217 
 
 of temptations, and must inevitably perish if permitted to pursue 
 their own course. 
 
 Mothers, it may be, that your children are fatherless, and are 
 committed to your exclusive care. To you it is left, to stamp the 
 last impress of character, and, by your example and influence, fix 
 the destiny of your husband's children. A voice, while I address 
 you, issues from their graves, urging me to my duty, and you to 
 yours. What would be their language, if your deceased husbands 
 could appear in this assembly. Would they not with all the elo- 
 quence, which death, and the grave, and heaven, and hell can in- 
 spire, say to the mothers of their children, " Oh, teach my offspring 
 the way to heaven ! Keep them from the paths of the destroyer. 
 My voice cannot reach them ; you must do for them what I neg- 
 lected. Farewell, we shall meet soon." What an overbearing 
 eloquence would there be in an address like this ! 
 
 And, while the father lives^ it is especially the mother's province 
 to form the character of her daughters. You must lead them on 
 to character, to happiness, and heaven. They wait to have you 
 offer them your hand, they prize your counsel, and tremble at the 
 prospect of passing this friendless world without a mother's in- 
 struction. Let them mingle with you, and form their characters 
 under your eye, that they may have profit from your advice, and 
 may find you their guardian in the hour of temptation. If years 
 have taught you any thing of truth and duty, let that knowledge, 
 like your* estates, accumulate in its descent. Then every genera- 
 tion would be wiser, the mother would live again in her children, 
 and soon from one such parent, there would spring a whole church, 
 whose holy principles and correct habits, would exhale a fragrance, 
 that would sweeten all the surrounding moral atmosphere. 
 
 I know, that in order to all this the mother must be hersejf a 
 disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ. She,. who traverses the broad 
 way, cannot conduct her offspring to heaven. She may put the 
 Bible into their hands, but her example will teach them to doubt 
 its doctrines, and hate its duties ; and one may easily presume 
 which they will believe. And yet some of your children may be 
 saved, and you perish. The covenant of God may bind them to 
 a pious ancestry, and he may remember his covenant, and save 
 them, while a parent is lost. 
 
 But, as many of my hearers are youth, part of my address should 
 be to them. Precious, beyond all computation, is the present pe- 
 riod of your life. Your prospect is now joyful, but bye-and-bye 
 the retrospect will place some gloomy shades in the picture. It i? 
 28 
 
218 THE WISE BUILDER. 
 
 but honest to acquaint you, that you have embarked upon a deceit- 
 ful sea. The present is calm, but soon probably your course will 
 lead you athwart the storm. There are trials between you and the 
 grave, and I name them merely to turn your attention to another 
 object. I would point you to a world where there are no trials; 
 and, if you would ever be an inhabitant of that world, you must 
 now direct your eye upward. There is a day of grace, and you 
 now enjoy that day, but there follows it a moment, when God 
 abandons the gospel abuser forever ; and he does not always destroy 
 as soon as he abandons. " They are joined to their idols, let them 
 alone." 
 
 The most important period of the season of grace, is its vernal 
 years. This period improved, you are saved ; but, misimproved, 
 your state is worse. And some of you are already crossing that 
 line, beyond which your salvation, if yet unregenerate, will be 
 less probable. How dreadful to go down into the vale of years 
 without a Savior, a promise, or a hope of everlasting life. A dark 
 cloud will then eclipse your sun, a cloud, in which there will be 
 painted no arch of promise. Then stupidity will increase upon 
 you, while every sermon, and every Sabbath will but mature your 
 character for the judgment. Gray hairs will but testify to your 
 revolving years, and perhaps neglect of means, to your increased 
 stupidity ; till finally, the tempter may assure you that your day 
 of grace is over. Oh, reach not that gloomy period till an ever- 
 lasting covenant unites you to a Redeemer. 
 
 If already you love the Lord Jesus Christ, there opens before 
 you a vast field of usefulness. The dying and the dead are all 
 around you. I will not suppose it possible, that you can be want- 
 ing in respect and attention to your aged parents. You will make 
 it, I hope, a prime concern, to aid them on to heaven. If you see 
 your associates verging on to ruin, you will warn them, and pray 
 for them, and by your example and influence endeavor to bring 
 them with you to heaven. 
 
 You are to exert a mighty influence upon the rising generation. 
 The other sex will receive a bias from your example, and, aiming 
 to be what you approve, will owe much of their character to your 
 sentiments and influence. If you make it your own object to be 
 holy, and to reach heaven, they will accompany you. 
 
 It will be your duty, and I hope your pleasure, to aid all the ope- 
 rations of benevolence, especially the propagation of gospel light. 
 This is a work in which your sex have a special interest. You 
 owe your freedom, your influence, 'and all your comforts to the 
 
THE WISE BUILDER. 219 
 
 gospel. Advance a single furlong beyond its light, and you find 
 the female sex in a state of perpetual servitude, treated like beasts 
 of burden, and secluded from all the joys of civil and social life. 
 Could they but know the blessings that fall to your lot, and the 
 reason why they are so oppressed and miserable, they would raise 
 a cry for the gospel loud and eloquent as the shrieks of death. They 
 would not rest till they could place in the hands of their oppress- 
 ors, that volume, which is the charter of your liberties. Then they, 
 too, would be free, respected, and happy. 
 
 These facts have helped to wake the daughters of Zion to their 
 duty, and I trust will keep them awake, till the light of revelation 
 has shined into every dark place of the earth, and the principles it 
 generates have rescued every daughter of the apostacy from her 
 prison and her chains. I have no fears that you will not act your 
 part in this humane and Christian enterprise. 
 
 Females have succored the ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The Savior himself testified to their kindness, and, as we all re- 
 member, found beloved friends in the sisters of Lazarus, and a very 
 pleasant home in their house. And after him the apostles, and af- 
 ter them all who have proclaimed the gospel, have lived upon their 
 charities, and been supported by their sympathies and their prayers. 
 All this is said without design to flatter. I should be unworthy 
 the office of a minister, if any such motives could move me. May 
 that gospel, which you thus support in your kindness to its minis- 
 try, be the means of your salvation ! May none of you abuse its 
 blessings, and thus fail of the glory it reveals ! And, when the 
 Son of Man shall come the second time, without sin unto salva- 
 tion, may you be among the first to shout, " This is the Lord, we 
 have waited for him, and he will save us : this is the Lord, we 
 have waited for him : we will be glad and rejoice in his salvation," 
 
SERMON XVII. 
 THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 2 COR. v. 20. 
 Be ye reconciled to God. 
 
 To the whole human family it is an eternal disgrace that such a 
 sentence should be found written in the book of God. A creature 
 unreconciled to God ! Living, too, upon his bounty, subject to 
 his control, completely in his hands, and exposed to his wrath ! 
 Does there live a man who cannot be pleased with infinite beauty, 
 with perfect rectitude ; who is at variance with the God of hea- 
 ven. How has it come to pass that a creature of God has made 
 himself so base 1 Was he born thus depraved, or has he, since his 
 birth, transformed his soul into the image of hell 1 Alas ! my 
 readers, we are constantly reminded of that sad hour when the 
 tempter prevailed, and our first parents fell. That was a horridly 
 guilty hour. Not only did they ruin themselves, but all their race. 
 They were destined to the curse of begetting children in their 
 own likeness, not guilty of their sins, but like them inclined 
 to iniquity, exposed to temptation and ruin. There is now born a 
 wretched rac'e, who as soon as they breathe, rebel. Why 1 they 
 can offer no reason. Infinite excellence is found in God, is seen 
 in his law, and exhibited in his providence. And is there through- 
 out our province a general revolt 1 Are there none who have not 
 become rebels 1 As God is true, there are none. A precious few 
 have become reconciled to him, and are now approximating toward 
 a state of purity, and joy, and blessedness. But even yet we can 
 can cast our eye abroad, and see our world filled with rebels. 
 What will be the issue, God knows, and he has told us. Those 
 that are not reconciled to him must die ; those that are, shall re- 
 ceive the smiles of God for ever. The infinite God has himself 
 contrived a way to pardon the rebel, and yet secure his own honor. 
 
 In pursuing this subject, / shall show that sinners are in a state 
 of hostility with God, while he is kindly disposed toward them. I shall 
 then inquire whether there be aay just cause for these hostile feelings 
 toward God. I shall then state the terms on which the sinner can be 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 221 
 
 reconciled, and offer some motives why the reconciliation should take 
 place. 
 
 I. I a"m to show that sinners are in that state of hostility with 
 God, while he is kindly and graciously disposed toward them. 
 
 In proving these points I shall make my appeal to Scripture and 
 fact. The hostile disposition of sinners toward God is one of the 
 most conspicuous doctrines of the Bible. " The carnal mind is 
 enmity against God." Sinners rob God and fight against him, and 
 say to him, " Depart from us ; we desire not the knowledge of thy 
 ways." " The rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and 
 against his anointed, and exert themselves to break their bands 
 asunder, and cast away their cords from them." In the survey 
 which God took of earth, he found that all had " gone out of the 
 way, and had become filthy ; there were none that did good, no, 
 not one." All this looks like general and open revolt. It is im- 
 possible to give these texts, and much more of the same book, 
 such an interpretation that they shall not teach us the doctrine 
 that sinners are hostile to God. 
 
 Let us now make our appeal to facts. As men show how they 
 feel toward each other by the manner in which they treat 'every 
 person and thing that relates to the other, so impenitent men 
 show how they feel toward God by the manner in which they 
 treat those persons and things that relate to God. 
 
 Let our firfet inquiry then be, How have sinners treated the Son 
 of God 1 He ventured to come down, and put himself in the 
 power of man. And was ever another man so cruelly treated 1 
 The world united in praying him to depart out of their coasts. 
 They rose against him, as if he had been an assassin or a robber. 
 They glutted their revenge with his blood. They could not rest 
 till they had nailed him to a tree. And yet their consciences pro- 
 nounced him innocent. 
 
 If any suppose that Christ would not now be treated so, were 
 he on earth, it is no doubt their unhappiness to make one of three 
 grand mistakes. They either suppose that Christ is now better 
 treated than he was in the days of his flesh, which is not true ; or 
 they suppose that human nature is not now so depraved as then, 
 which is false ; or they have brought themselves to believe that a 
 more improved state of civilization has tamed the ferocity of the 
 carnal mind. 
 
 Now, how can we account for it, that Christ should be treated 
 so unkindly by men, except by admitting the principle that sinners 
 
222 THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 are in a state of hostility with God, and hence as Christ was the 
 image of the invisible God, they made him the object of their 
 scorn and hatred. In treating him thus, they showed how they 
 felt toward God. 
 
 Let us now inquire, how sinners treat the people of God. Au- 
 thentic history informs us that in every age since there was a 
 Christian on earth, they have been subjected to ill-treatment. In 
 apostolic days they began to be the song of the drunkard, and the 
 jest and proverb of the world. Then, and ever since, when hu- 
 man law did not impose restraint, they were persecuted to death. 
 Upon them have fallen the united curses of an ungodly world. 
 When wicked men can meet in no other point they can be one in 
 destroying the Christians. They consider them as the common 
 enemy. Hence thousands of holy souls have gone to glory from 
 wrecks and dungeons. 
 
 And what better are things in the present day 1 True, there is 
 less blood spilt, but no less anger felt, and no less pains taken to 
 cover them with infamy, and expose them to scorn when they 
 "live godly in Christ Jesus." Does not every day bring us fresh 
 testimony of the hatred of the wicked against the saints. If not, 
 what ' do they mean by the common cry of hypocrite ? Why do 
 they take so much pains to try to prove that Christians are the 
 worst men on earth. Why do they love to hear that they have 
 'fallen'? Why pleased when they tarnish their character, and 
 wound the cause of their Redeemer 1 Facts like these prove that 
 sinners hate the Christians. And why is this, unless because they 
 bear the image of God, and for his sake are hated. At any rate 
 they do bear the divine image, and the world hates them, which 
 unquestionably proves them to be in a state of hostility against 
 God ; for if they hate his image they hate him. 
 
 This hostility to God has often been clearly seen in a time of 
 revival. Then God increases the number of his children, and en- 
 rages his foes. True, they are sometimes overawed, and when 
 this is not the case, they storm with rage. They have exhibited 
 evident signs of distress as the divine shower approached. All 
 the means and instruments by which a revival was introduced or 
 promoted felt their malice. Indeed the world has gone out in one 
 united phalanx to make head against the work of God. They 
 have dreaded and opposed a revival as they would a famine or a 
 plague. 
 
 Now, why all this I Do they not hate a revival because it 
 brings into view the God they hate, and reminds them of that hea- 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 223 
 
 ven in which they could not live. Again, then, do we see that 
 they are in a state of hostility with God. 
 
 The same hostility is proved while sinners daily break the laws 
 and oppose the government of God. Daily and hourly we witness 
 their disregard of the law, while they refuse to shape their lives 
 by its precepts, and yet dare name the justice of God as the foun- 
 dation of their immortal hopes. And how constant are their com- 
 plaints against the ways of Providence. Hear their midnight 
 murmurs, and see their vexation and disappointment while any 
 adverse event transpires, or any fond expectation is disappointed. 
 
 If sinners were not hostile to God, would they not love his 
 word and his worship 1 Would they treat with cold neglect the 
 book of God, the only guide to everlasting life 1 And would they, 
 as often appears, be indifferent to the praises and the prayers of 
 the temple. Would they utterly refuse, as they do, to elect God 
 as their master, or enlist in his service. Undoubtedly they would 
 not try to prevent others from serving him, were they not hostile 
 to his glory. 
 
 The maxims which sinners adopt, prove the existence of a hos- 
 tile temper. " Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine ene- 
 my." Said Christ, " Love your enemies." " An eye for an eye, 
 and a tooth for a tooth." Said Christ, "Resist not evil." "Give 
 me wealth first, and then religion." Said Christ, " Seek first the 
 kingdom of God and his righteousness." In every controversy 
 let the offender ask for reconciliation, but in the controversy be- 
 tween God and sinners they are in fault, yet God prays them to be 
 reconciled. It is more blessed to receive than to give, is practi- 
 cally the maxim of the world, but, said Christ, " It is more blessed 
 to give than to receive." Thus sinners are all wrong. In all their 
 maxims they make evident opposition to what is the mind and 
 will of God. Now, could there be found this long list of oppo- ' 
 sites, were not sinners in a state of hostility to God 1 
 
 And yet God is kindly disposed toward them. This appears in 
 all he says, and in all he does. It appears in his word. He 
 there declares that he feels kindly toward sinners, and he there 
 asks them, in the language of real compassion, "Why will ye 
 die V We learn the same while we see the forbearance of God 
 toward sinners. Not until they have sinned many years is he so 
 provoked with them as to put them in hell. He not only lets 
 them live in his world, but offers them mercy, and repeats his in- 
 vitations, and presses them to accept, assuring them that they 
 shall have eternal life, if they will repent and believe. All this 
 
:22i THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 makes it certain that God feels kindly toward sinners, while their 
 feelings are so hostile. Let us then inquire, 
 
 II. Whether there be any just cause for these hostile feelings 
 toward God. They seem to say that God has done something 
 wrong. To the sinner, then, we must appeal, What has God done 
 to offend?. 
 
 His first interference with your concerns was in the act of your 
 creation. Was it here that he offended 1 True, he did not con- 
 sult you whether you would be or not, nor ask you what kind of a 
 creature you would choose to be. It was his opinion that you had 
 no right to be consulted in these matters. Do you complain that 
 God made you capable of misery 1 Instead of this it should be 
 your rejoicing that he made you capable of happiness: especially 
 since he has put immortal blessedness within your reach, and so 
 constituted things that misery will not be yours unless you choose 
 death rather than life. Do you complain that you were not made 
 angels 1 Instead of this, you ought to be thankful that you were 
 not made serpents or worms. But, " shall the thing formed say 
 unto him that formed it, why hast thou made me thus." " Hath 
 not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one 
 vessel to honor and another to dishonor." In the act of creating, 
 God has not injured you, and where no injury is done there can 
 be no complaint. 
 
 Ever since that period he has watched over you, and provided 
 for you : in all this has he erred 1 For parental tenderness which 
 watched your infant and youthful days, you are indebted to God. 
 He gave the instinct which originated a father's care and a moth- 
 er's tear. He formed those powers, those limbs and eyes, by which 
 .you have defended yourself. Besides all this, there has perhaps 
 been around you unobserved a guard of angels. 
 
 " What ills their heavenly care prevents, 
 No earthly tongue can tell." 
 
 In addition to all this, God has kept his own eye fixed upon you, 
 and has protected you with his own arm. But for this care death 
 awaited you every step of your way. Every particle of air which 
 you have breathed, was pregnant with death till he made it pure. 
 He had his eye on you in all your slumbers, and at his bidding the 
 midnight pestilence fled, and the breeze brought life and health. 
 Perhaps when tossed upon the ocean the waves knew his voice 
 and were still. 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 225 
 
 He gave you your birth in a goodly land ; furnished you kind 
 friends to smooth your rugged way through life, and gave you 
 every other needed comfort. " He opened his hand, and your 
 wants were all supplied. His goodness has been like a river by 
 your side. He watered your fields and brought on your harvests. 
 He kept off the frosts, and ripened your fruits, he kept off his 
 storm and secured your merchandise. He sent the gale that waft- 
 ed India's riches to your coast. In all this did God offend 1 
 
 He gave you the means of instruction, that you might be wise. 
 Was this unkind I 
 
 He early put you under law : was this unkind 1 True, the law 
 has dreadful penalties, and must not once be broken. It curses 
 " every one that contiiweth not in all the things written in the 
 book of the law to do them." Whether it was kind or not in God 
 to put you under such a law will depend on whether the law was 
 good. This is its tenor, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
 all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself." If God deserves su- 
 preme affection, and our neighbor's happiness is worth as much as 
 our own, this is a good law. To give creatures such a law was 
 simply telling them to be happy. It was not only right that God 
 should demand supreme regard, but best for creatures that they 
 should thus regard him. And in that strong mutual affection 
 which the law demands, men have found rich ingredients of com- 
 fort. In demanding that the law should in no one instance be bro- 
 ken, God prepared the way to keep misery from his creation. 
 
 It is only by disobeying this law that men are rendered miser- 
 able. But for this we had never heard the groans of the dying, 
 the sighs of the widow, or the plaints of the orphan. Then the 
 mourning garb had never darkened our assemblies. Man had not 
 learned to weep, unless it were tears of gratitude. 
 
 And we may say the same of other worlds. Heaven continues 
 to obey the law of God and is happy. Hell has disobeyed and 
 continues to disobey, and is consequently filled with groans 
 of despair. And how many soever other worlds there may be, 
 they too are happy or miserable according as they have obeyed 
 or disobeyed the law of God. If, then, the law is good, and dis- 
 obeying it has made us unhappy, what charge can we bring against 
 God for giving us such a law 1 The law was intended as a great 
 bond that should bind intelligent 'creatures to God, and to one 
 another. This bond, this silver cord sinners have broken, and so 
 have stopped the communication of bliss to their souls. 
 
 But my readers, let this be the closing remark on this point. 
 29 
 
226 THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 The law which God has given is the only one which he could 
 have given. It is the copy of his heart. He must have been a 
 different being, and his creatures must have sustained different re- 
 lations to him and to one another before a different law could have 
 been given. If, then, sinners have any charge to bring against 
 God on account of the law, the charge is unreasonable ; they cen- 
 sure him for doing what it was impossible he should not do. Is 
 there, then, any fault here I 
 
 But God has made exertions to save sinners, is there here any 
 cause for blame 1 Has he not made the terms of salvation as 
 easy as possible 1 Is man, while he receives pardon, subjected to 
 any unnecessary degradation or reproach ^ Is any penance de- 
 manded very difficult to perform 1 Does faith in Jesus Christ for- 
 bid the exercise of reason 1 And is the love of God inconsistent 
 with the exercise of the natural instincts and affections 1 Or does 
 religion so employ the powers of the man as to make him unhap- 
 py 1 Is not salvation offered on conditions the best possible.- 
 Then, where is the offence 1 
 
 In pressing such a salvation upon the sinner, is not the Deity 
 kind 1 In varying and repeating the invitation, and calling upon 
 sinners by the ministers of the gospel, by alarming events of pro- 
 vidence, by the Holy Spirit, and by an awakened conscience, to 
 turn and live, while God thus stands, and pleads with a guilty 
 world from year to year, and from age to age, what is there in all 
 this but kindness 1 
 
 Would any be glad, sinners, would it please you, could you be 
 left undisturbed by these kind invitations of the God of mercy ? 
 Would you wish to go on till your destiny was sealed before the 
 gospel trump disturbs you 1 
 
 Do any find fault with God because he chastises them 1 Do I 
 hear one say, God has torn my partner from my bleeding bosom, 
 and my children, just as they began to entwine my heart 1 He 
 sent the winds to sink my merchandise, and the incendiary to 
 burn my dwelling. How can I love such a God ? Did you ever 
 thank God for those blessings'? Did you ever pray for their con- 
 tinuance 1 Did you teach that child to pray whom you lately 
 covered with the clods 1 God has, then, only reminded you of 
 your sins in removing these comforts. 
 
 Moreover, they were at first his gift, or rather, his loan ; and 
 he has now recalled them, no sooner than you had reason to ex- 
 pect. He never promised you that you should retain these com- 
 forts to any given period. Where, then, is there any ground of 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 227 
 
 charge against God 1 He has done more than he promised j he 
 has been kinder than you had any reason to expect. Where, then, 
 is there cause of offence 1 
 
 But, says one, God has threatened sinners with everlasting ruin, 
 and has built a hell for them : can I love such a God 1 Hell he 
 built for the devil and his angels, and he will send none of our 
 race there who would be willing to live in heaven. All who pos- 
 sess such a temper as would convert heaven into a place of horror 
 and despair, and who are more fit to be the companions of devils 
 than of angels and blessed saints, only these will be sent to hell. 
 And in the sentence every holy being will join, and the sinner's 
 own mouth will then be shut. Why, then, is there here any 
 ground of charge against God 1 
 
 Thus, through all that God has done and said, do we search in 
 vain for any plea that can support the sinner in his revolt. Perhaps 
 in what he is a plea can be found. " There clusters in his name 
 every attribute that can contribute to render him great and glori- 
 ous. The clustering of these attributes is God." What attribute, 
 then, can be spared from the cluster 1 Let him cease to be holy, 
 and what will follow 1 Sin, that has made every tear, every sigh, 
 and every groan, will be approved, and the prince of devils may 
 walk arm in arm with Gabriel. An infuriate mob from hell will 
 soon lay waste the mansions of the New Jerusalem. 
 
 Or let Jehovah cease to be true, then, says the sinner, he would 
 not execute his threatenings. No ; nor his promises ! That blessed 
 promise, " I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee," on which 
 many a trembling believer has hung his dying hope, fails. Every 
 angel lays by his harp and looks out for ruin. The holy are no 
 longer sure that they shall be happy. The foundation on which 
 they stood has begun to sink, hell is astonished, and the universe 
 is ruined. 
 
 Shall Jehovah be no longer just I Where then is the sinner 
 that will consent to be treated unjustly I Devils would not consent 
 to this. 
 
 The same may be said of every Divine attribute. Alter any 
 one, and the universe is all in tears. No one dares to live or die. 
 Is it not best then that God continue capable of government, and 
 remain just what he is 1 Thus do we find at every step we take 
 that there is no fault in God. No possible plea can be found to 
 support the sinner in his rebellion. God is right, has spoken and 
 done right, but the sinner is wrong, has spoken wrong, and done 
 wrong. I hope, then, the way is prepared for reconciliation. But, 
 
228 THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 III. I am now to state the terms on which God will receive the 
 sinner to favor. 
 
 The sinner must disapprove of. his own character and conduct. 
 Till he does this, God will consider him in a state of hostility. 
 The sinner must become vile in his own eyes and polluted, in his 
 own view. He must see and hate his own evil passions, and all 
 their corrupt fruits, and must join with God in condemning him- 
 self as a rebel deserving eternal ruin. 
 
 When brought to feel thus he will be humble. He will take to 
 himself the punishment of his sins, and ascribe righteousness to 
 his Maker. In this condition God will begin to regard him. But 
 this is not all that God will require. 
 
 The sinner must change his character and conduct. He must 
 have a different set of affections, and must exhibit a course of con- 
 duct altogether diverse from that exhibited in his former life. 
 This will be saying to the world, that he now approves of the law 
 which he broke, considers it good, and the penalty just. 
 
 The only terms on which God will ever receive the sinner to 
 favor must include the following : 
 
 1. He must unsay all the hard things he has said against God ; 
 the reproaches he has cast upon his law, the unholy things he has 
 said against his people, and against his government, and his king- 
 dom. All the hard speeches that ungodly sinners have made 
 against heaven, and all their trifling about hell, and the judgment, 
 and the quenchless fire, and the never-dying worm, and ^the^ bot- 
 tomless pit, and the bridgeless gulf. All the contradictions of his 
 truth, and all the gainsayings of the infidel heart all this must be 
 unsaid, must be taken back. This is an indispensable preliminary 
 in the first effort at peace. Else there can be no reconciliation. 
 This is a law among men. If men are at variance they always 
 begin conciliation with concession, and it must be thus when we 
 deal with God. 
 
 2. When we have unsaid, we must undo the unhallowed things 
 that we have done against the kingdom of God, and restore that 
 which we have taken away. If any are not aware of having done 
 any thing which they would undo, there is reason to believe that 
 they have not made the first essay at a genuine repentance. Soon 
 as the heart relents we can easily find that there are a great many 
 things that we have done that must be undone. There are immor- 
 tal beings, bound to the judgment, and whose eternity of bliss or 
 of wo unutterable depends on their character, and that character 
 we have given, first or last, a polluting touch. These pollutions 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 229 
 
 we must endeavor to wipe off. And there are others that we have 
 injured these injuries we must repair. We shall find, on a little 
 reflection, that we have, in a thousand ways, set in operation many 
 engines of death, which, with a little timely care, we can stop, and 
 we must stop them. All this is necessary to the first beginnings 
 of the exercise of a genuine repentance. 
 
 3. And when we have unsaid and undone all that we can re- 
 member to have said and done against God and his kingdom, we 
 shall find that we have entered a field of mischief where we had 
 been so many years putting things wrong, and the mischief has 
 become so wide-spread and desolating, that it will require a whole 
 lifetime to put them right again. What was said of the apostles 
 falsely, that they turned the world upside down, the penitent finds 
 true in his own case. He has been scattering fire-brands, arrows, 
 and death, while he pretended to be only in sport. 
 
 4. Wherein the mischief cannot be undone it can all be ingenu- 
 ously confessed. If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just 
 to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 
 Thus we come upon the subject of a gratuitous pardon, our only 
 nope of our acceptance with a gracious and merciful God. Here 
 oegins^?eace, and hope^ and joy, through a pardoning and gracious 
 Redeemer. Through his kind and timely intercessions the sin- 
 ner's whole debt is freely forgiven, and God is reconciled. 
 
 In addition, this humiliation and its correspondent fruits, the 
 sinner, in order to pardon, must be willing to receive mercy. A. 
 sinner does not deserve pardon : the supposition is absurd. He 
 must be willing to be pardoned for the sake of Christ, and, after 
 being pardoned, must be willing to be an everlasting monument of 
 a Savior's love. He must entirely commit his cause to Christ, as 
 his advocate, depending on him for every good which he hopes 
 for from a justly offended God. 
 
 These are the terms. 1 am happy to have it in my power to 
 add that Christ is ready to be the sinner's friend. He even be- 
 seeches you to allow him to plead your cause, and ensure your 
 acceptance with his Father. 
 
 Let this now be the question. Will sinners quit their rebellion 
 and turn to God that they may live 1 Will they do it now 1 When 
 God offers a sinner pardon there must be immediate acceptance, 
 or he takes the offer back. The impenitent cannot leave the place 
 where they are, before it will be reported in heaven that they have 
 accepted or rejected the message. Thus God deals with us, and 
 
230 THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 
 
 thus must we deal with him. He will not allow sinners to despise 
 his mercy with impunity. 
 
 Perhaps some are thinking about a reconciliation, but wish to 
 know the terms. We have no new terms to propose. You will 
 find the terms in all your Bibles, and be assured God will never 
 alter them ; no, never. He will sooner abandon his throne, and 
 consign sun, moon, and stars to ruin. No j the terms are the 
 easiest, they are the best that a holy God could propose. 
 
 Do any plead that their sins are so numerous and so aggravated 
 that God will not accept them 1 This plea need not be made. 
 There is an infinite Savior, and there is infinite compassion in 
 the heart of God. And there is one promise which throws the 
 light of day on this subject. " Though your sins be as scarlet they 
 shall be as white as snow, though they be red like crimson they 
 shall be as wool.*' 
 
 IV. Let us notice some of the motives to a speedy reconciliation, 
 
 1. Sinners should become reconciled to God because he is the 
 only being who can be the sinner 's permanent friend. None but he 
 can comfort you in adversity, raise your hopes in the day of 
 gloom, or soften your dying bed. None but he can cheer your 
 disembodied spirit, and inspire it with a relish for the angelic song. 
 Indeed, be it a calamity or not, so it is that God has made no ob- 
 ject fit to be your portion. He must himself fill the soul or 
 you are for ever poor. 
 
 2. Though God has not given the offence he makes the first 
 overtures of reconciliation. This is wonderful condescension in 
 God. He has no need of you, he can make his kingdom happy 
 without you, and there is no obligation on his part why he should 
 thus meet you with the offers of mercy. It is a matter of the tru- 
 est surprise that God will thus stand and plead with his creatures, 
 is it not, then, a reason why they should be reconciled 1 
 
 3. Consider farther, that God has removed the obstacles that 
 were in the way of your salvation : this should press your con- 
 science. He gave his own dear Son to die that you might be 
 saved, and yet he be just. And you can now be completely re- 
 stored to the Divine favor. From being a wretched outcast you 
 may become a son and an heir. What consideration can be more 
 persuasive than thisl A condemned criminal is offered all the 
 joys of heaven on becoming reconciled to his justly-offended God. 
 
 4. If sinners do not become reconciled to God they must lie un- 
 der the weight of the curse of a broken law for ever. And eter- 
 
THE CONTROVERSY SETTLED. 231 
 
 nity only can fully tell how heavy this curse will be. You are en- 
 treated, then, to be reconciled to God, by all that is terrible in his 
 anger ; by all that is dreadful in the thought of being the object of 
 his wrath for ever ; by all the misery that an immortal soul can 
 suffer, or an almighty arm can inflict. If God can make sinners 
 wretched, and if sin, unrepented of, be of such a horrid nature 
 that infinite goodness must be willing to punish the incorrigible 
 for ever, then, by all that is dreadful in this thought, sinners are 
 entreated to repent. 
 
 5. I urge, as the last motive why sinners should immediately be- 
 come reconciled to God, that it will soon be too late. There will 
 come a day when the door of mercy will be closed for ever upon 
 some unhappy souls. Perhaps in that day some of my readers 
 will stand without and raise their distressing cry, " Lord, Lord, 
 open unto us." But the door can never be unbarred. He that 
 shutteth and no man openeth will reply, " I know you not." You 
 will see Abraham and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and 
 yourselves be rejected. A father, mother, or sister enters into 
 life, and you are lost. The very partner of your bosom takes her 
 seat at the marriage supper, while you are not permitted to taste. 
 Methinks there will be scenes exhibited in that day at which the 
 very angels will weep. Will sinners, then, attend to these things, 
 while mercy is possible \ Sinners are every day perishing una- 
 wares. They are every Sabbath hearing their last sermon. It 
 may be that some one is now reading *this who has misimproved 
 many a sermon, and is now uttering the closing sentences of the 
 last one that will ever disturb his quiet. He has, perhaps, so near- 
 ly filled up his measure of iniquity, that only a few drops are 
 wanting. The opposition which he may feel to this sermon, and 
 the resistance he may make to the strivings of the Spirit may run 
 his measure over, and bring the curse of his Maker upon him. It 
 is impossible to say when God will shut up his bowels of compas- 
 sion with regard to any sinner. Though he bear long he will not 
 bear with them always. He is holy and true as well as good. 
 The day must come when his threatenings will be fulfilled as well 
 as his promises. And to sinners who refuse to desert the standard 
 of revolt, that will be a tremendous day. But, since they will not 
 be persuaded, they must go on and provoke Divine goodness till 
 the curse lights upon their heads. I add no more : I hope I am free 
 from the blood of my hearers to-day. It will be found >n th^ir 
 dwn skirts. 
 
SERMON XVIII. 
 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 EXODUS III. 3. 
 
 And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned. 
 
 I 
 
 MOSES was keeping the flocks of his father-in-law in Midian ; 
 and having occasion to drive them to the desert, to the borders of 
 mount Horeb, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame 
 of fire in a bush. He perceived, that though the bush burned with 
 fire it was not consumed. " And Moses said, I will now turn aside, 
 and see this great sight, why the bush is not burned." He expect- 
 ed, no doubt, to see the bush consumed ; but while he looked upon 
 it, and perceived that every branch and every leaf remained entire 
 amid the flames, it naturally awakened his amazement, and led him 
 to turn aside and view the wonder with attention. As he approach- 
 ed the bush, a voice issued from the midst of the flames, which bid 
 him pull his shoes from his feet, as the ground on which he trod 
 was holy. God now assured him that he was the God of his fa- 
 thers, and gave him his commission to go and redeem his brethren 
 from bondage. The burning bush, with God in the midst of it, 
 uninjured by the flames, represented the Church, living undimin- 
 ished in the midst of afflictions and persecutions. Probably Moses 
 had suspected that the rigors of the Egyptian persecution would 
 ultimately annihilate the Church. To remove this gloomy appre- 
 hension, and encourage him to accept a commission for their eman- 
 cipation, he was favored with this vision. In using this scrap of 
 history for our present edification, it is my purpose to make seve- 
 ral distinct observations. 
 
 I. The Church of Christ has always been exposed to afflictions and 
 persecutions, has often seemed in imminent danger, but has lived 
 unhurt through every period of its long and bloody conflict. There 
 has been a Church ever since the conversion of Abel. During the 
 period from the fall to the deluge it was very feeble, and very small, 
 and often persecuted. In the death of Abel was fulfilled the pre- 
 diction, " It shall bruise thy heel." Mention is made but of two 
 or three eminent saints during this period, of which Enoch was 
 
THE BURNING BUSH. 233 
 
 one of the most distinguished. God so loved him that he took 
 him to heaven without seeing death. He was a prophet, and plain- 
 ly predicted the terrors of the deluge and of the last judgment. 
 There seems to have been, during this period, several times of re- 
 vival, but during the whole the Church must have been compara- 
 tively small. Finally it was confined to the family of Noah, and 
 seemed about to become extinct. It was now surrounded by a 
 host of enemies, and must have perished, without some extraor- 
 dinary divine interposition of its chief Shepherd. Jehovah granted 
 his people the help they needed, and swept the whole of that un- 
 godly world to perdition. The wondrous means by which he res- 
 cued his people from the general ruin, must have taught, it would 
 seem, all future generations, that destruction awaits the enemies 
 of the Church. We are amazed that Noah could live and be a 
 preacher of righteousness one hundred and twenty years, when the 
 Church was so small, and when the earth was filled with violence, 
 and the Spirit of God striving with them during all that period in 
 vain. But the covenant promise of God preserved his people un- 
 hurt, like the bush which was embosomed in the flame but not 
 consumed. In the family of Noah God continued to have a seed 
 to serve him. But the Church was soon brought very low, and at the 
 time of the calling of Abraham was almost extinct. We see, during 
 this period, the strong features of depravity ; and although the 
 history of the Church is scanty and general, there can be no doubt 
 but that it had to struggle with afflictions and persecutions. To 
 promote the prosperity of the Church God resolved to confine it 
 principally to one family. Accordingly, Abraham must leave his 
 country, and become a stranger in a strange land, that his descend- 
 ants might be preserved from idolatry, and true religion live in his 
 family till the coming of Christ. During much of this period we 
 find them an afflicted and persecuted people, and are often led to 
 wonder at their preservation. How wonderful was the escape of 
 Lot ! first from captivity, and afterwards from the tempest of fire 
 that consumed the cities of the plain. How often, and how nar- 
 rowly, did Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with their respective fami- 
 lies, escape being swallowed up by idolatry, or destroyed by their 
 enemies. But they were a holy seed, from whom, according to 
 the flesh, Christ should come, and among whom, till then, God 
 would preserve his Church. Their history is a constant scene of 
 miracles, and their very existence, like the bush that burned but 
 was not consumed, is a living monument of God's covenant faith- 
 fulness. When the patriarchal family had settled themselves in 
 30 
 
234 THE BUENING BUSH. 
 
 Egypt, and Joseph was dead, and they had become Pharaoh's bond- 
 men, their ruin seemed inevitable : especially when the Egyp- 
 tians, jealous of their increase, and fearful of their resentment, 
 made a decree to destroy them, we look upon them with awful ap- 
 prehensions. But this very decree, contrary to its design, saved 
 the Church. It became the means of raising up Moses, and of fur- 
 nishing him a princely education, that he might become the law- 
 giver and the prince of that injured family. From his birth till 
 he had the vision of God in Horeb, the Jewish family were indeed 
 like the bush that burned with fire but was not consumed. It is 
 matter of the truest amazement that the Egyptians did not utterly 
 destroy them, when they were so completely enslaved, and entirely 
 within the power of their masters. But God had otherwise de- 
 creed. Their enemies dealt violently, but their violent dealing 
 came down upon their own pate. Their infamous conduct awaked 
 the wrath of heaven, and issued in their own ruin. Still their 
 struggle was long and desperate. Many a time there seemed but 
 a step between the Church and destruction. On the banks of the 
 Red Sea nothing but a miracle could save the children of the cove- 
 nant. But the miracle was wrought, the sea divided, Israel 
 escaped, and their enemies were all overthrown. When we read 
 the history of their passage through the desert, the dangers they 
 encountered, the sins they committed, the judgments they felt, 
 and the enemies that lined their path, we wonder that they ever 
 reached the promised land. But God was in the midst of them . 
 Time could not wear out their garments, the rock watered them, 
 and the clouds fed them, and the very fowls of heaven flew to their 
 camp to become their meat. And when they entered Canaan we 
 are amazed that a single month did not furnish them all a grave. 
 That land was thickly peopled, the people at home, and prepared 
 for war. That Israel should be able to march through that land 
 and tread down its mighty population and ultimately possess it all, 
 was a most surprising exploit. 
 
 The history of that people, from the time of Moses to Christ, 
 fills the reader with constant surprise. At one time they were 
 tributary to one kingdom, then to another, and then to a third, but 
 all the time multiplied. When they went into captivity it seemed 
 impossible but that the Church must become extinct. But they 
 outlived all their oppressors, and celebrated the funeral of every 
 kingdom that ever lifted a hand to vex them. Their foes perished 
 by a perpetual consumption, but the Church continued unhurt in 
 the very centre of the contagion. True, the Church finally ran 
 
THE BURNING BUSH. 235 
 
 low at the time of its transfer from the family of Abraham to the 
 Gentiles, but it never became extinct. Under the ministration of 
 the Son of God and his apostles, the Church received again a vast 
 and glorious accession. But it was still a bush in the midst of the 
 flames, burning but not consumed. Christ was crucified for daring 
 to be her friend, and the apostles, most of them, spilt their blood 
 at her altar. As religion spread under the new dispensation, it 
 awakened the wrath of the enemy as it never had before. A 
 countless army took the field for the destruction of the rising 
 Church. Every province where there was a follower of the Lamb, 
 cursed its soil with their blood, till finally the enemy was weary of 
 destroying them. The facf was seen and felt, that every execution 
 augmented the number of believers. They could slay individuals, 
 but the Church itself was immortal. 
 
 Pursuing her history, from the apostolic age to the reformation, 
 we often see her on the very margin of destruction. Under Con- 
 stantine she seemed for a moment to prosper, and yet his very 
 touch was death. He nursed her body, but he starved her spirit, 
 and the Church had almost perished with him. But he died, and 
 the Church outlived the boasted immortality of his sepulchre. 
 Under the Roman pontiffs the Church almost disappeared. They 
 polluted her charter, put out the fire on her altars, sealed the lips 
 of prayer, and finally seemed to dig her grave. But the Church 
 had retired from Rome, and was living in the mountains of Pied- 
 mont. There she breathed, and bled, and prayed, till the eventful 
 period of the reformation. Then the Lord graciously lengthened 
 her cords, and strengthened her stakes. But for many years her 
 sons paid for the privilege of discipleship with their blood. Fires 
 were kindled in every province of Christendom to consume the 
 bush. Even England, now one of the fairest provinces of Chris- 
 tendom, fattened her soil with the heart's blood of the saints. 
 
 And when the reformation was at length established, the Church 
 did not cease to live in the flames. Errors in doctrine and in 
 practice, threatening the extinction of piety, have at different times 
 overspread almost every province of Christendom. But the Church 
 has lived, and to the present day is a standing monument of the 
 power and the truth of God. 
 
 This leads me to remark, 
 
 II. It is wonderful that there should have been a Church till 
 now, and its continuance is a living miracle. This will appear if 
 we consider, 
 
236 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 1. How small her number, and how feeble her strength compared 
 with the hosts of her enemies. The Church of Christ is still a 
 little flock. " Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way that lead- 
 eth unto life, and few there be that find it." If the world should 
 unite for the destruction of Zion, how small would she be in their 
 hands. If our civil governments should become the enemy of the 
 Church, how easy would it seem to destroy her. If the impeni- 
 tent should wage war against her interests, how easily might they 
 achieve her destruction unless God prevented. The Church has 
 numerous, vigilant, and persevering enemies. The world, the 
 flesh, and the devil, are leagued for her destruction. She can turn 
 her eye in no direction but she sees aft enemy. There is not a 
 moment passes when there is not laid some plot for her destruc- 
 tion. And although God has constantly thwarted the designs of 
 her enemies, and saved the Church, when a host encamped against 
 her, yet are we led to wonder at the vigilant and decisive move- 
 ments of that unseen agent, who ever saves the Church. 
 
 2. We wonder at the existence of the church, because there is 
 not one of her number but carries her worst enemy in his own 
 bosom. That the church should be safe, while every individual 
 of her number daily offends the Lord, so as to deserve destruc- 
 tion, is that which excites surprise. The principles of apostacy 
 and revolt are in every Christian bosom, and will be while there 
 is a church on earth. The perseverance of the saints is a living 
 miracle. Viewed in himself there is nothing impossible or im- 
 probable in his final apostacy. It is rather wonderful that he 
 should ever persevere than that he always should. If religion had 
 no other foe than the remaining corruption in the hearts of God's 
 people, we should wonder that ever one of them reached heaven. 
 
 3. We wonder that the church lives because of the numerous 
 hypocrites which she carries in her own bosom. Not only does 
 the church live in a world of enemies, but the church visible is 
 partly composed of men that hate the Lord, and hate his kingdom. 
 This, it is perceived, must greatly reduce her apparent strength. 
 Might we count every professor as the friend of God, Zion would 
 be a host compared with its real strength. But she is at present a 
 citadel with many enemies in her own bosom. That every hypo- 
 crite weakens the strength of the Church, there can be no question. 
 It is their ungodly conduct that awakens reproach against religion, 
 and arms the enemy with rage for her destruction ; and they at 
 the same time discourage the hearts of God's people, and prevent 
 the Church from moving forward as a band against the enemy. 
 
f 
 
 THE BURNING BUSH. 237 
 
 4. The continuance of a Christian church is matter of surprise 
 when we consider that if God's people act in character their sen- 
 timents and conduct constantly enrage the world. God's people 
 believe, and must constantly advocate, those doctrines which 
 wicked men disrelish and oppose, and must practice these duties 
 which administer constant reproof to men of ungodly lives.* 
 Hence our Lord declared, that he came not to send peace on earth 
 but a sword. For, said he, " I am come to set a man at variance 
 against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the 
 daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law, and a man's foes shall 
 be they of his own household." And we have often seen this ' 
 dreadful prediction exemplified. Hatred to the religion of Christ, 
 has been seen to extinguish the strongest instinctive affections, 
 and to create war, where before there was some degree of harmo- 
 ny. Christ assured his followers, " They that will live godly in 
 Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." And every page of the 
 Church history testifies, that the religion of the gospel is at war 
 with the wicked passions of men. Hence how wonderful that re- 
 ligion has not long since been extinguished, and the world been 
 left without any salt to save it from moral putrefaction. 
 
 5. Another reason why we wonder that the Chut ch has not long 
 since become extinct is that she has always depended more or less 
 on the world, for the support of those ordinances and institutions 
 on which depends her own existence. No age of the Church can 
 be named when wicked men did not contribute to feed the fires 
 of her altars, and support her ministry. In Israel the wicked as 
 well as the righteous helped erect the temple, and build the altar, 
 and furnish the daily sacrifice, and support the .family of Levi. 
 They contributed largely to furnish those costly offerings which 
 adorned the temple of Jerusalem. And through all the periods 
 of the Jewish dispensation, wicked men were occasionally among 
 the most active in promoting the external interests of the Church. 
 And since the introduction of the gospel dispensation the case has 
 not altered. There was found at least one unconverted man at 
 the very commencement of the Christian Church, who sold his 
 possessions, and brought a part of the price, and laid it down at 
 the apostles' feet. And in every country where there has been a 
 Christian Church, men have helped support her ministry, and build 
 her sanctuaries, and supply her charities, who did not hope to 
 share in her redemption. 
 But, strange as it may seem, the Church has lived in these cir- 
 
238 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 cumstances ever since its first establishment, and will live till the 
 last of the elect are gathered in. And it seems the fires are to 
 continue to burn till the close of the period of grace. Even the 
 millennium, which will seem to have put out the fires that flame 
 through the branches of the bush, will not raise the Church above 
 . opposition, for at the close of that period we read that Satan shall 
 be loosed out of his prison, and shall go out to deceive the nations 
 which are in the four quarters of the globe, Gog and Magog, to 
 gather them together to battle ; the number of whom is as the 
 sand of the sea. And they went out on the breadth of the earth, 
 and compassed the camp of the saints about and around the belov- 
 ed city ; and fire came down from God out of heaven, and devoured 
 them. I think we gather from this passage that when the millen- 
 nium, or Sabbath of the Church is past, she will still have enemies 
 in every part of the world who will unite their strength for her 
 destruction. Thus the bush will still burn, but it will not be con- 
 sumed, for God shall rain fire from heaven which will destroy her 
 enemies. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. If the Church, as a whole, is thus safe, so are all her mem- 
 bers. The idea that the whole of a thing can be safe, and yet all 
 its parts in danger is absurd, like that of supposing a general, 
 without a particular providence. The bush that Moses saw re- 
 mained entire in the midst of the flames. Not a branch nor leaf 
 perished. If there is no security for the perseverance of individ- 
 ual saints there may be no Church on earth before the return of 
 another Sabbath. And yet let it not be supposed that the text af- 
 fords any security to hypocrites ; for although they may be enroll- 
 ed with God's people, he may still save his people and destroy 
 them. Were the visible Church entirely composed of false pro- 
 fessors, there would be doubt whether it would not become extinct, 
 but there are mingled with the ungodly professors enough to en- 
 sure the continuance of a visible Church. But I suppose the secu- 
 rity prefigured in the text to belong only to those who are real 
 believers, and whom God knows will finally be admitted to the 
 joys of his kingdom. 
 
 2. How vain have been the efforts of the ungodly to destroy the 
 Church. She has lived, and can live amid all the fires they can 
 kindle. She has often flourished most when persecution has raged 
 with the greatest vehemence. Hence was derived that saying, 
 
THE BURNING BUSH. 239 
 
 " The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." And it is as 
 well for the world at large as for the Church, that their efforts are 
 unavailing : for the saints are the salt of the earth hence, were 
 the Church destroyed, the world would perish too ; of course, their 
 only safety is in their defeat. If they achieve their purpose, they 
 undo themselves. 
 
 You have known men to attempt their own execution, and been 
 prevented. Their failure was their safety. You have known 
 youths arrested by the arm of paternal authority, when setting out 
 in a career of ruin. Their defeat saved them. The same will be 
 the case with the enemies of God's kingdom. To whatever extent 
 they injure the Church, they will hurt themselves. If they could 
 destroy the Chui^jh, they would ruin the world. Every thrust 
 they make will recoil upon their own heads. 
 
 3. How useless and ungrateful are the fears of God's people. 
 They are useless, for they achieve nothing. They are ungrateful, 
 for God has already done enough for his Church to deserve her 
 confidence. If he had ever seen her desolations with indifference, 
 if one promise of his had ever failed, if the Church had ever found 
 him her enemy in the hour of distress, there would then be ground 
 of fear. But no such thing is true ; no season of her distress has 
 failed to move his pity j he has never turned a deaf ear to her 
 prayers ; no one of his numerous promises has ever failed ; nor 
 did her enemies ever find God their friend in a season of his 
 Church's conflicts. 
 
 4. What abundant cause have God's people to rejoice in his 
 covenant faithfulness. There is nothing but God that Christians 
 love so much as the Church ; and while the Church is safe, it 
 must make them happy. In her safety every thing dear to us is 
 safe, in her ultimate triumph we shall find our own salvation. The 
 subject, then, is calculated to make Christians lift up their heads. 
 To not be happy when there is such abundant cause for joy, will 
 argue disaffection to the interest we have professed to espouse, 
 and will cast upon us the suspicion of treachery. This is a case 
 I wish to provide against, lest in my dying behavior I dishonor 
 him who laid down his life for me. If I am not happy when 
 dying, impute it to derangement, unless it will the less dishonor my 
 divine Master to conclude that I have always been in the gall of 
 bitterness, and under the bonds of iniquity, and am now deserted 
 of him to prove that " I am about to go to my own place." The 
 Church has always been so safe, and with it every interest of mine, 
 
240 THE BURNING BUSH. 
 
 unless I have interests that are distinct from Christ's interests, and 
 then I am an unbeliever, and have no part nor lot in the matter. 
 There can have been no failure of the everlasting covenant. God 
 will do as he has said. And, in doing so, if he does not glorious 
 things for me, I have only to lie down and die with shame ; and 
 the one hundred and forty and four thousand who are about the 
 throne of the Lamb, will say forever, " Worthy is the Lamb that 
 was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, 
 and honor, and glory, and blessing." And the whole multitude 
 will utter their loud and long amen. 
 
SERMON XIX. 
 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE.-No. I/ 
 
 2 KINGS XVII. 33. 
 
 They feared the Lord and served their own gods. 
 
 WHEN the king of Assyria had carried captive the ten tribes of 
 Israel, and placed them in different parts of his empire, he brought 
 back other men with which to people the cities of Samaria. But 
 as these strangers had no fear of the God of Israel, while they 
 occupied the consecrated territory, he sent lions among them, that 
 committed such ravages that complaint was made to the king of 
 Assyria. He immediately gave directions to send thither one of 
 the priests that they had brought captive from that land, that he 
 might teach them the manner of the God of the land, and thus 
 induce him to be propitious to its new population. He came and 
 dwelt in Bethel, and taught the people how they should fear the 
 Lord. He was no doubt an idolatrous priest who had been accus- 
 tomed to officiate in the idolatrous worship of the golden calf. 
 Howbeit, every nation made gods of their own, and finally, being 
 unable to see any wide distinction between the calf and their own 
 favorite idol, paid very little regard to the established worship. 
 They made priests of the lowest of the people, and offered sacri- 
 fices in their high places. Then follows the apparently paradoxi- 
 cal remark of the text : " They feared the Lord, and served their 
 own gods." 
 
 By their fearing the Lord we are not to understand that they 
 had that fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wisdom, else 
 they would not have served their own gods. The sense appears 
 to be, that they paid some attention to the established worship of 
 the calf, but devoted their principal zeal to the idol worship, to 
 the worship they had imported with them into their new territory. 
 And this is declared to have been the manner of the Israelites 
 whom they had carried captive. They pretended, in their national 
 religion, to pay some kind of homage to the true God, but still 
 practised the worship of Baal. But that all this show of homage 
 to Jehovah was offensive to him, there needs no argument to prove, 
 31 
 
242 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 other than to state the fact that it was an idol worship which he 
 could not accept. 
 
 But the question urges itself upon us, Have we any thing in 
 these gospel times that savors of such a spirit. We boast of our 
 superior light, but are we not conversant with the same indiffer- 
 ence, and the same lightness that was practised by the Samaritans 
 two thousand five hundred years ago 1 Let us trace the resem- 
 blance between some of the features of that age and this. 
 
 I. There was evidently great indifference felt as to what God 
 was worshiped Jehovah or any other god. Where the true God 
 was pretended to be worshiped, under the image of a beast that 
 had horns and hoofs, it was to be expected that he would claim 
 nothing more of his worshipers than might be claimed by any other 
 idol. There might be some sacredness of names, or ascription of 
 attributes or works to the Israelitish gods that they had not been 
 accustomed to give their idols, but the untutored Assyrian, and 
 Mede, and Persian would not discern the difference, and would be 
 more impressed by the form of the image, than by any ascription 
 of abstract qualities that might be supposed in the one that was 
 not in the other. And is there not the same indifference felt now, 
 by very many, what God is worshiped, or what is the very same 
 question, what attributes are ascribed to the God we adore. How 
 numerous is the multitude that care very little whether the God 
 they worship is so holy that he would suffer heaven and earth to 
 pass away sooner than permit one jot or tittle of his law to fail ; 
 or so indifferent to sin that he will save all men even without re- 
 pentance ; whether he is so wise as to know the end from the 
 beginning, and will work all things after the counsel of his own 
 will, or is so unfixed in his purpose as to never have determined 
 whether he will save one, or ten in the whole of the human family ; 
 whether God is a sovereign, and will do his pleasure in the 
 armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, or is so 
 weak and inefficient that he will suffer a worm to defeat his coun- 
 sels, and a fly to frustrate his purpose ; whether he shall have 
 decision enough to fix unalterably the rewards of a Savior's suffer- 
 ings, or leave it a chance whether he shall not have squandered 
 away his blood ; whether he shall have a pure and holy family 
 about him in heaven, or shall martial a band of miscreants ; whe- 
 ther he shall have a Church on earth that breathes the temper of 
 the skies, or the foetid and blasphemous fumes of the pit ; whe- 
 ther his word shall be all truth, or none of it truth, or a part of it ; 
 
THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFEJNCE. 243 
 
 and his people have a sure word of prophecy to rest upon, or their 
 feet stand or sink in the quagmires that skirt the bottomless pit ; 
 whether he exercises over the world a government so particular 
 as to notice the falling of a sparrow, and number the hairs of our 
 head, or exercises so general a providence as that empires only 
 shall deserve his notice, and our little selves, at least our few 
 little sins, escape his inspection. How few in a whole congrega- 
 tion of worshipers care whether he be a God that will require the 
 hearts of his people, or will be satisfied with the soulless, spirit- 
 less, external ceremonies ; whether he have any record kept of 
 the sins of his creatures, and any day appointed when he will judge 
 them, or he shall hear and bear without rebuking, the oaths and 
 curses of a whole apostate world 1 That whole cursing and damn- 
 ing community, that breathe moral pestilence upon every wind 
 that blows, do you not suppose that they would prefer a God that 
 should neither see, nor hear, nor know when insult is offered him, 
 and blasphemy uttered ] Would he not corrupt the public faith, 
 were it possible, till he had excluded from it a judgment, and a 
 hell 1 So the Samaritans cared not if supreme worship be offered 
 to Succoth-benoth, or the golden calf. 
 
 II. We witness in many men, who profess to be decent attend- 
 ants upon the worship of Jehovah, a total disregard, what is the 
 temper and conduct he will require in his worshippers ; whether they 
 shall be heavenly-minded, and lay up their treasures there where 
 God is, or may b$ sordid, and grovelling in their views, and in 
 their habits, and be the veriest ungodly, churlish souls in all the 
 creation of God ; whether they shall be kind, and courteous, and 
 benevolent, or act out all the coarseness, and savageness of un- 
 subdued nature ; whether they shall be meek, and patient, and 
 forgiving, or may pour forth all the wrath, and malice, and hurry, 
 and impatience of one just broken out from the enclosures of 
 crime, and chains, and infamy ; whether to show mercy to the 
 men who are sacrificing themselves upon the altars of devils, and 
 hold them back, is kind and Christian, or whether one may live up- 
 on the gains of iniquity, and thrive and fatten upon the damnation 
 of souls 5 whether to bless the men of the world is a duty at all, 
 or whether we may, with the same divine approbation, pamper 
 their lusts and passions, and prematurely plunge them into ever- 
 lasting fire ; there is resting extensively a doubt whether the spi- 
 rit of the gospel is peaceful or contentious, is proud and overbear- 
 ing, and stubborn and refractory, or yielding, and kind, and amia- 
 
244 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 bi e j whether men may not drink of the cup of the Lord and of 
 the cup of devils ; may not love the world more than believers, 
 and still live harmlessly within .the enclosures of God's covenant ; 
 may not please and satisfy the world more than the Church, and 
 the enemy of souls more than God, and still maintain unbroken, 
 and unimpaired their high claim to a seat at the supper, and a 
 mansion in the skies. So the Samaritans cared not whether their 
 gods demanded virtue in their worshippers, or were equally con- 
 tented with lust, and crime, and blood. " They feared the Lord, 
 and served their own gods." 
 
 III. There is the same indifference felt as to what doctrines con- 
 stitute the essence of the gospel. 
 
 Men presume that they are hearing the gospel when the doc- 
 trines of the divine decrees, of election, and of divine sovereignty 
 are reprobated, and scowled upon as the doctrines of perdition, 
 while these doctrines are plainly found, in one shape and another, 
 on almost every page of the Bible. They consider it the gospel 
 if they hear vilified and abused the doctrine of the permanency of 
 God's everlasting covenant with his people, or the divinity of Je- 
 sus Christ, or the eternity of future torments, or they hear advo- 
 cated the supremacy of some light within that shines above the 
 brightness of the inspired page. In one word, the mass of un- 
 godly men do not discriminate what truth is, nor what the gospel 
 is, and of course, do not very much care whether they hear the 
 true gospel or another. There is, in fact jiothing that men 
 care so little about as God, and, what relates to his truth, and 
 kingdom and glory. That gospel, which they profess to believe, 
 they will not take the trouble to hear often. They will not keep 
 Sabbath, nor care to be in the sanctuary, nor care to have others 
 keep the Sabbaths, and attend upon God's worship. To speak the 
 whole truth, religion and God are the things by which they hold 
 the most loosely possible, and for which they will make smaller 
 sacrifice than for anything in the whole circle of human interests. 
 They would not give as much annually to sustain the worship of 
 God as they would bestow in one evening on the theatre, or ex- 
 pend at one sitting in the grog-shop, or gamble with a single 
 game, or squander in one excursion of pleasure. They would 
 barter away all the interests they have in God, and truth, and hea- 
 ven, for a dinner of herbs, for a mess of pottage. 
 
 We shall naturally be led now to inquire, of what avail can a re- 
 ligion be that takes so loose a hold of the heart 1 What did it do 
 
THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 245 
 
 for the strangers of Samaria 1 Did it secure the Divine presence 
 and blessing 1 Did it establish between them and God any per- 
 manent covenant 1 Did it bring down the rains and dews upon 
 their territory 1 Did it even keep the lions off 1 And it may be 
 asked, that multitude that now hold loosely by everything religious, 
 what their professed regard for God will do for them 1 
 1. Will it secure them a religious character 1 
 Even this may be doubted. If region is worth nothing the 
 world will say it is nothing. If we hold so loosely by it that 
 we would barter away all its interests for a shilling, the world will 
 believe that we esteem it a worthless religion. If to gratify a 
 passion, or secure an interest, or secure a friend, we would change 
 our religion, or be without its ordinances, and place our posterity 
 upon the crumbling verge of infidelity, may we not well doubt 
 whether we shall be able to save our sinking reputation as the 
 friends of Christianity. The world will believe us religious ex- 
 actly to the extent of the price at which we would sell our reli- 
 gious interests. Hence it would seem that the great mass of un- 
 godly men cannot escape the charge of hypocrisy in any profes- 
 sion they make of esteem for God's character, and kingdom, and 
 glory. 
 
 2. Will their mdefiniteness of views and feelings on religious 
 subjects tend to their peace of conscience 1 If there is much 
 in the mind it will not. Men who have really given the 
 gospel a serious and frequent hearing have seldom failed to 
 discover that their sins are unpardoned, and their souls un- 
 sanctified, and they in the gall of bitterness, and under the bonds 
 of iniquity. They take so little pains to please God, and get to 
 heaven, that they lose all the pains they do take, and go on unhap- 
 py all the way to the grave, and to perdition. 
 
 3. Does the little regard that ungodly men pay to divine things 
 increase their advantages of obtaining salvation 1 I fear some- 
 times that the opposite may be the effect ; that the careless manner 
 in which they attend upon divine truth may harden their hearts 
 against its sanctifying influence, that the few shillings they may 
 pay for the support of the gospel less than they would expend 
 upon the most worthless concern of life will induce the habit of 
 feeling that the gospel is of no value. 
 
 4. Will this loose and indefinite regard to religious things save 
 the soul 1 No ; if it will not secure peace of conscience, nor in- 
 crease the means of salvation, nor even secure a religious charac- 
 ter, it surely will not save the soul. No ! men will go down to 
 
24)6 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 hell, wearing all the different shades of disregard to God, and his 
 kingdom. 
 
 5. Will it lay the passions, and still the appetites ? 
 
 No ! the soul that is not filled with God must be ever on the 
 reach to find something else to fill it that is not God, and must fly 
 from vanity to vanity, 
 
 " And find no end, in wandering mazes lost." 
 
 I 
 Each object, as it seizes it, will say, happiness is not in me. 
 
 6. Will it soothe the bed of death 1 No ; that will be a time 
 of decision, and to have not been honest with God will, in the re- 
 trospective glances of that hour, be the most horrid and torment- 
 ing glance. Men's duplicity in the things of religion, will be the 
 ghost that will haunt them on the dying bec[. 
 
 7. Let the subject, then, teach us the value of decision in the 
 things of religion. If men have any regard to God, let them have 
 enough to save the soul. If they hear his word, let them pray and 
 repent, and do works meet for repentance, and then they live for 
 ever, and God will keep the lions off while they live, and keep off 
 the roaring lion when they die, and bring them to his kingdom at 
 last, where they may bask in the beams of his face for ever. 
 
SERMON XX. 
 
 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE No 2. 
 
 2. KINGS XVII. 33. 
 
 They feared the Lord, and served their own gods. 
 
 WHEN Israel went into captivity under Shalmanezer, king of As- 
 syria, supposed by the ancient Hebrew writers to be the same with 
 Sennacherib, God condescended to give the reasons why he thus 
 dealt with those who had been long his covenant people. " They 
 had sinned against the Lord their God," [read from 7th to 17th 
 verse,] " therefore the Lord was angry with Israel and removed 
 them out of his sight." How amazing is the condescension of 
 God, that he would thus stoop to give a reason of his conduct to 
 the very men who had awakened his indignation and his wrath. 
 
 Doubtless it may answer some important purpose in his moral 
 government that his very enemies be convinced of the righteous- 
 ness of his dispensations. By this very means every mouth will 
 be stopped and all the world become guilty before God. He will 
 thus keep up the fear of him and the dread of him among the na- 
 tions, and he will hold in restraint the very enemies of his throne 
 and of his kingdom. It is added as an item of guilt on the part 
 of Israel that their conduct had affected Judah, and had induced 
 Judah to walk in their statutes, for which the Lord had rejected 
 all the seed of Israel. This evil effect of their example induced the 
 Lord to reject them, and afflict them, and deliver them into the 
 hand of the spoilers, until they had cast them out of his sight. 
 There is nothing that men are more accountable for than their in- 
 fluence : the bearing that the conduct of men shall have upon their 
 neighbors, may constitute the most prominent item of their guilt 
 God may destroy the wicked sooner than he would, because he 
 will protect from their contaminating example the men who are 
 exposed to be injured by their vices. This was manifestly the 
 fate of Israel. They had stayed longer in their land, and the foe 
 had been held in check had not the kingdom of Judah been in 
 danger from the example and influence of their idolatries. 
 
 The divine penman now goes back to rehearse the matter from 
 the beginning, and speaks of God as having rent Israel from the 
 
248 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 house of Judah. This would seem like shifting off the blame of 
 their apostacy upon the Creator. But we remember that nothing 
 is more common in Scripture, than the ascription of the same deed 
 both to God and man. God is said to have hardened the heart of 
 Pharaoh, and still he charges upon Pharaoh the crime of hardening 
 his own heart. He is said to have moved David to number Israel, 
 and yet we find him punishing David for this very act. It is 
 said of the enemies of Israel that God turned their heart to hate 
 his people, and still he punishes them for hating his people. These 
 texts, though there are many others like them, are sufficient to 
 show that the Scriptures are familiar with the ascription of the 
 same act, both to the Creator and the creature. 
 
 Should we now recur to the history of that transaction, we may 
 perhaps discover reasons why there should be this ascription of 
 the same event to two distinct agencies. When Rehoboam was 
 about to take the kingdom, the people of Israel, headed by Jero- 
 boam, complained to him that his father had made his yoke heavy, 
 and prayed that he would lighten it. He took counsel of his prin- 
 ces, and answered the people roughly, and the result was, that the 
 ten tribes revolted from the house of David. They made Jero- 
 boam their king, and he led them into idolatry, and the result was 
 that the wrath of God was kindled against them, and he sent them 
 into captivity from which we are unable to say that they, to any 
 very great extent, ever returned. Now, what are the facts in this 
 case, that would go to show that the transaction was of Divine ap- 
 pointment, and by the Divine agency 1 In the 
 
 1. Place, we see some some reasons that God had to be offend- 
 ed with the house of David, and why he should sever from his 
 family part of the kingdom. In the latter part of Solomon's reign 
 he had gone into a state of dark and guilty backsliding ; had mul- 
 tiplied his wives and given up his heart to pleasure. He had be- 
 come the richest and most powerful prince on the face of the 
 earth. The spirit that led David to number the people, had led 
 Solomon to feel proud in the extent of his riches and his power. 
 Hence Rehoboam was led to answer roughly and proudly the prayer 
 of his people, when they asked to have their yoke lightened. This 
 pride of royalty God would check and would punish. He had so 
 threatened David for his sin in the case of Uriah. And we see in 
 his successors, sufficient reason why he should now punish the ini- 
 quity of the fathers upon the children. Hence we shall not be 
 surprised to find the Divine agency employed in severing the king- 
 dom. 
 
THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 249 
 
 2. We find that when Rehoboam had gathered together his one 
 hundred and eighty thousand warriors to reduce the rebellion of 
 Israel, that God forbade him to go up to fight with his brethren, 
 but bid every man to return to his house, and offered, as the rea- 
 son of this requisition, " This thing is done of me." Thus are we 
 led to see the evidence complete, that the division of the house of 
 David into the two kingdoms of Judah and Israel, was in conso- 
 nance with the Divine plan and through the Divine agency. 
 
 3. We find, moreover, that God had, even in the time of Solo- 
 mon, directed Ahijah, the prophet, to show Jeroboam that he 
 should be king over ten of the tribes of the children of Israel. We 
 have a record of the facts in the eleventh chapter of the first book 
 of Kings, (from the 26th to the 40th verse.) Now that which God 
 would direct his own prophet to foretell, must be an event that his 
 mind has purposed, and his providence is pledged to accomplish. 
 And he condescends even to offer a reason of this resolve of the 
 Divine mind. Because they have forsaken me and worshipped 
 Ashtoreth the goddess of the Zidonians, Chemosh the god of the 
 Moabites, and Milcom the god of the children of Ammon. Thus 
 a father's sins may create mischief in his house ages afterwards. 
 
 Let us now inquire what there is to show that it was all a hu- 
 man transaction, and that though it led to the apostacy and ruin of 
 Israel, they still deserved the punishment that came upon them. 
 
 1. There appears something suspicious in these complaints as 
 no good reason can be found why they should complain of the 
 yoke they had to wear under the reign of Solomon. He enriched 
 and advanced the kingdom, and did all that could be done to make 
 his subjects easy and happy. There was peace during all his 
 reig^ They suffered not by invasion during his time, and never 
 had to jeopardize their lives in the high places of the field. They 
 abounded in provisions, and money, and merchandise, and had, it 
 would seem, all that heart could wish. Now a people who, at the 
 close of a reign like this, would embody their complaints and peti- 
 tion for a redress of grievances, would exhibit prima facie evidence 
 that they had very depraved hearts, and that probably something 
 else, and not the matter mentioned, was the ground of their griev- 
 ance. 
 
 2. The Israelites achieved their own separation and ruin, by ad- 
 hering to the counsel of an impious and unprincipled Jeroboam. 
 He, doubtless, instigated them to prefer their complaints, that he 
 might have a pretence for seizing the sceptre of the ten tribes, be- 
 fore Providence gave the signal. They ouo-ht to have seen and 
 
 32 
 
250 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 been aware of their wickedness. It does not excuse men's sins, 
 that they have presented to them insidious and powerful tempta- 
 tions. We may not give up our minds to be under the control of 
 any other mind, till we know that the mind that guides ours is in- 
 fallible. Else we must be responsible for all the results as if we 
 had guided our own steps. 
 
 3. There was precipitancy in Israel's determining to be a king- 
 dom by itself, till they had asked counsel of the Lord, whatever 
 confidence they might have in the integrity and ability of their 
 leader. True he had been marked out as a king by the Lord's 
 prophet, but the transaction was private, and could be known to 
 Israel, only as Jeroboam in the pride of his heart, had without au- 
 thority divulged it. And his known character ought to have made 
 them doubt whether their interests would be safe in his hands. 
 Men may not resign their own judgment and presume on the Divine 
 protection and guidance, unless they look well, and wisely, and 
 providently to their own interests. 
 
 4. The people of Israel, and Jeroboam with them, took upon 
 themselves the whole responsibility of their separation and their 
 undoing, by forsaking the worship of the true God. " It shall be," 
 said the Lord, " if thou wilt hearken unto all that I command thee, 
 and wilt walk in my ways, and do that i right in my sight to 
 keep my statutes and my commandments, as David my servant 
 did, that I will be with thee, and build thee a sure house as I built 
 for David, and will give Jerusalem unto thee." Thus would the 
 promise of God have secured Israel's prosperity, if they had walk- 
 ed in the counsels of the Lord. While, then, the purpose and pro- 
 vidence of God made Israel a distinct people, and they, as it would 
 seem, laid the train for their own undoing ; we see in the ^tory 
 every feature of a mere human transaction, laying the foundation 
 for guilt and for desert of punishment, for everlasting reproach and 
 self-destruction; God rent Israel from the. house of David, and yet 
 Israel rent itself from the house of David, and chose its own king 
 and him a wicked king, who drove Israel from following the Lord, 
 and made them sin a great sin. For the children of Israel walked 
 in all the sins of Jeroboam. 
 
 It is evident, then, a man may do infinite mischief mischief 
 that shall not be finished in his own age or generation, the stain 
 and the shame of which shall adhere to his blood, and pollute his 
 memory. Jeroboam is held up as an example of wickedness, in 
 all the generations after him, till the time when no one could tell 
 where the tribes dwelt. And even to this day, when not a trace 
 
THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 251 
 
 of that people can, with any great assurance, be found, that man 
 who was their leader in this revolt from the house of David, and 
 from the worship of the true and living God, is held up as on a 
 gibbet to warn all the generations not to copy his wickedness, lest 
 they partake of his plagues. 
 
 The sequel is awfully admonitory. Israel departed not from the 
 sins of Jeroboam, until the Lord removed them out of his sight, as 
 he had said by all his servants, the prophets. " So was Israel car- 
 ried away out of their own land to Assyria unto this day." 
 
 REMARKS.- 
 
 1. This subject should lead us to reflect on the immutability of 
 all our own moral actions. It was not very far from a thousand 
 years before Christ, when Jeroboam instigated Israel to revolt. 
 And now, almost three thousand years afterwards, the curse is still 
 resting on the house of Israel. If that portion of the seed of Abra- 
 ham has not become extinct, as the promise would seem to tell, 
 how incalculable is the weight of that man's iniquities and who- 
 ever else might sin with him, and all Israel sinned, still how im- 
 measurable in their moral turpitude are his crimes, who began the 
 whole train of mischief. 
 
 *2. How inflexible is the holiness and righteousness of God un- 
 pardoned sin he never can forget to hate. Sin not purged away 
 in a Savior's blood, will never lose its odious aspect, though under 
 a process of punishment many thousand years. And how can we, 
 with such facts before us, doubt but that, towards the incorrigibly 
 wicked, God may keep his anger for ever. 
 
 3. The subject leads us to adore the wonders of God's moral 
 government. 
 
 An event may be so his own that he appointed it, and would not 
 let another defeat, and was the mighty power that kept all the 
 agents in life, and sustained and strengthened them while in the 
 service, and there may be great sin and unpardonable in the trans- 
 action, and still God do only right, and the crime and guilt all be- 
 long to the agent that is governed and controlled^ 
 
 4. The subject will lead us to reflect upon that text, " No man 
 liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto himself." 
 
 There is not a transaction of life, if wicked, done in the seeing 
 or the hearing of our fellow-men, but may go to involve them in 
 guilt, and operate upon their character, and history, and destiny, 
 when they may have perished a thousand years since. Hence we 
 must ask those around us, and they us, what we and they shall be 
 
252 THE TRUE GOD A SURE DEFENCE. 
 
 when these heavens are dissolved. The character of man is so 
 pliable that it may be easily changed for the worse at any period 
 of its formation, and no touch of moral influence fails to change it, 
 hence every man lives where he is giving character to a world. 
 And when, at last, we shall read the history of these moral results, 
 we shall feel it to have been a terrible thing to have lived in such 
 a world, where souls are spread out around us on every side, whose 
 destiny will depend on their character and that character con- 
 nected with our conduct 
 
SERMON XXI. 
 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 PSALM XCVII. 2. 
 
 Clouds and darkness are round about him. 
 
 WHEN our Lord had assembled his disciples to eat with him the 
 last paschal supper, it was a moment of amazing interest. The 
 devil had put it into the heart of Judas to betray his Master, and 
 the machinations of darkness were in rapid and successful opera- 
 tion. A few hours would pay the price of blood, seal the doom 
 of the traitor, and scatter the little flock. There would be great 
 weeping in the church, and equal joy without. Our Lord could 
 have averted that storm, but his purposes of mercy must then 
 have failed ; hence he let his power sleep, and gave the hosts of 
 hell the opportunity of a triumph. He had yet one lesson to teach 
 his disciples, and would instruct them practically. He rose from 
 supper, laid aside his upper garment, took a towel and girded him- 
 self, poured water into a basin, and began to wash his disciples' 
 feet, and to wipe them with the towel. He came to Simon Peter. 
 Said the astonished Peter, "Lord, dost thou wash my feet 1" The 
 Lord answered, " What I do thou knowest not now. 11 What could 
 be more surprising to him than that his Lord and Master should 
 offer to perform for him so mean an office 1 But the astonished 
 Peter would live to see the mystery solved ; " thou shalt know 
 hereafter." He would learn a lesson of humility, and be prepared 
 to teach it to all nations. 
 
 But the text is not of private interpretation, and may teach us, 
 that many things transpire under the present ministration of Divine 
 providence, which to men are very mysterious. 
 
 It will be my object to bring into view some of these mysterious 
 events, and afterwards inquire into the source of the mystery. 
 
 I. I am to notice some of the events of Divine providence that 
 are mysterious. It cannot be expected that I give a very enlarg- 
 ed catalogue of these events. It will .be sufficient if the few that 
 I may notice suggest others that are obvious to every reflecting 
 mind. I name, 
 
254 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 1. The limited spread, and small success of the gospel. 
 
 It was published in Judea eighteen hundred years ago, and the 
 injunction was that it be preached to all nations. Our Lord had 
 power to cause this command to be obeyed. He could have raised 
 up the proper instruments, and could have given the truth access 
 to the conscience and the heart to whatever extent he had pleased. 
 A very few of his disciples, in all ages, have been desirous to exe- 
 cute this last will of their ascended Lord, and have done some 
 part of their duty. But the number has been small, and their ef- 
 forts so insulated, that very little has been done. Three quarters 
 of the globe are yet unacquainted with the book of life, have never 
 heard of a Savior's death, or been invited to the marriage supper 
 of the Lamb. Of the eight or nine hundred millions who inhabit 
 the globe, six or seven hundred millions are, up to this day, the 
 worshippers of idols, attributing to a block of wood, or a bar of 
 iron, the perfections of Jehovah, and offering them the homage 
 he demands. Almost the whole population of Asia, computed at 
 five hundred millions, are perfectly ignorant of God and the Sa- 
 vior, as the beasts that roam the deserts. The fifty millions of 
 Africa are in a condition no less deplorable. Among the two hun- 
 dred millions of Europe can be found millions in a group who are 
 involved in almost total moral darkness. Of the fifty millions in 
 the two Americas, something like four-fifths remain to be taught 
 what be the first principles of the oracles of God. And the isl- 
 ands of the sea are, with a few exceptions, so many moral deserts. 
 Thus the gospel of salvation, the forlorn hope of a perishing world, 
 the invaluable bequest of a dying Savior, the only guide of the 
 living, or hope of the dying, the celestial charter of a blessed im- 
 mortality, at the end of sixty generations, circulates only through 
 a little corner of this revolted world. A few millions enjoy its 
 noonday beams, and others its twilight, while more numerous mil- 
 lions are immersed in the shadow of death. 
 
 From some regions where the gospel has been, it seems to have 
 taken its everlasting flight. Scarcely an inch of that territory 
 where prophets taught, and where apostles bled, can be considered 
 within the limits of the church of God. Jerusalem, and Antioch, 
 and Ephesus, and Rome, and Carthage, where trifth once had a 
 lodgment, are but so many provinces reconquered by the prince of 
 darkness. And where the gospel tarries still its success is small. 
 Compare the number of professors with those who are without 
 the pale of the Church, and 'they are lost in the superior numbers 
 that turn their back upon the communion. And what numbers of 
 
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 255 
 
 those who feed at the table, will not at last sit down at the mar- 
 riage supper of the Lamb, we dare not calculate. Beyond a doubt 
 all are not Israel that are of Israel. We know that many in the 
 last day will say, " Lord, Lord, have we not eaten and drunk in 
 thy presence 1" to whom Christ will respond, "I never knew 
 you/' 
 
 Many ministers of Jesus Christ, at the end of a long life, have 
 exclaimed, in the language of the prophet, " who hath believed 
 our report, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed V 
 The British missionaries labored twenty years, in the islands of 
 the South Sea, ere they could tell us of their success. Some very 
 able men of God, have been heard to say on their death-bed, that 
 they were doubtful whether they had been the means of saving a 
 single soul. They have feared that God had merely employed 
 them to bring the fate of Chorazin and Bethsaida upon an aban- 
 doned multitude. Now in all this there is something very myste- 
 rious. If Christ issue a gospel, why suffer it to travel round the 
 world so slow 1 Why fertilize here and there a little spot, and 
 leave the residue of the world a desert 1 If he design to bless 
 our race, why not render his gospel, wherever it is proclaimed, 
 the wisdom of God, and the power of God 1 In an enterprise so 
 dear to the heart of God as that of rendering men holy, one would 
 think that he would embark all his attributes. " Clouds and dark- 
 ness are round about him." 
 
 2. There has been something mysterious in the success that has 
 attended the propagation of error. Why will the blessed God give 
 his enemies opportunity to fill the world with lies 1 The more 
 firm our faith in the promise, that all nations shall, one day, come 
 to his light, the more of mystery is there in his suffering the ene- 
 mies of truth to have any success. Just when the gospel had com : 
 menced its course, Mahomet was permitted to impose his delusions 
 upon a hundred millions of souls. And as the darkness of pagan- 
 ism began to be dispersed, popery riveted its chains upon another 
 hundred millions. Many districts of our world, which were once 
 blessed with a pure gospel, have since become the prey of error. 
 How many sectaries have arisen, and grown in numbers and in in- 
 fluence, whose delusions were too bare-faced to deceive any but a 
 fool. No error seems too gross to forbid its circulation. The 
 Swedenborgian and the Shaker, who could have collected their 
 creeds no where but from the reveries of Bedlam, have not failed 
 to gather about them a community of madmen. And we could 
 name other sects, whose fundamental doctrines have no founda- 
 
256 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 tion either in Scripture or in common sense, and still they find ad- 
 herents. An impostor will gain a host of proselytes, while he who 
 proclaims the truth has scarcely made a convert. I know that 
 error finds, in the depraved heart, a soil that is congenial, while, 
 for the reception of truth, its fallow ground must be broken up. 
 Hence no surprise is felt at the fact that wicked men should love 
 error j but God is the Governor of the world, and can check its 
 progress at his pleasure, and that he does not is our surprise. 
 
 I know the truth will finally triumph. The witnesses, whose 
 souls cry from under the altar, will yet see every opposer at their 
 feet. But why the temporary triumph that God allows to the ene- 
 mies of his gospel ? Why must good men so often encounter 
 chilling opposition in every effort they make, and so frequently 
 seem vanquished 1 So Israel encountered many a defeat in con- 
 test with the very people whom God had devoted to destruction. 
 I do not say that faith has no answer to these queries, but that it 
 must look often through a dark cloud. Even in the present day, 
 when the finger of God writes success on every banner of his hosts, 
 still he continues to allow the enemies of his gospel to hope. 
 Every pious effort awakens new opposition, and passions that had 
 lain dormant are enlisted against his kingdom. One of the once 
 holiest cities of our land, was lately enlisted, with its wealth, its 
 eloquence, and its influence, against the immaculate glories of the 
 Lamb. Now, why will God throw influence into the hands of his 
 enemies, and block up the way of his people 1 God could fill the 
 world with truth in an hour, and say to Zion, " Arise, shine, for 
 thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is arisen upon thee." 
 While " the hearts of men are in his hand, and he turneth them as 
 the rivers of water are turned," why will he allow the world to be 
 overrun with error 1 He has promised it to his Son, who is, one 
 day, to " reign from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of 
 the earth." Now why will he keep his Son out of the promised 
 inheritance so long, when he could so easily put down error, and 
 give success to his truth, and bring every knee to bow to him 1 
 " Clouds and darkness are round about him." 
 
 3. The gifts bestowed upon bad men, who abuse them, while many 
 men of piety have smaller talents, is mysterious. 
 
 Said our Lord, " I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and 
 earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, 
 and hast revealed them unto babes." " Not many wise men, after 
 the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called : but God 
 hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise 
 
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 257 
 
 and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound 
 the things which are mighty." The fact is unquestionable that 
 men of the finest talents have often been the avowed enemies of the 
 truth. They have managed wisely, and pleaded eloquently, the 
 cause of the adversary, and have spent their influence, and their 
 lives to prop the pillars of his sinking empire. Hume and others 
 of the family of infidels, who own him as their father, lavished 
 upon a bad cause the energies of a mighty intellect. They wanted 
 nothing but the aid of truth to give immortality to every page they 
 wrote. Their destiny to forgetfulness is because they served a 
 bad cause, and a bad master. Every age of the Church has had 
 employed against her many of the noblest geniuses ; and her foes 
 can never plead that they were foiled because they lacked the 
 ablest of advocates. And yet many who have been eminent for 
 piety have been comparatively wanting in powers of mind. They 
 met the approbation of their master, having employed in his ser- 
 vice all the talents that he had given them. If they failed in elo- 
 quence or influence, still by their example and their prayers, they 
 pleaded nobly the cause of truth, and will stand high at last in the 
 estimate of heaven. Their names will be remembered when 
 every argument and every orator employed in the cause of the 
 adversary shall have sunk into everlasting contempt. 
 
 We are not prepared, however, to say, that irreligion can boast 
 of a balance of strong argument or good sense on its side. Argu- 
 ment has always been weak, however specious, when at war with 
 truth, and good sense has been misnamed when associated with 
 infidelity. Good argument must be founded in truth, and truth is 
 the image of being and of fact, and will not lend its aid against its 
 own honors. Now the mystery is that God should ever arm his 
 enemies with talents to thwart apparently his purposes of mercy, 
 to contradict his truth, to libel his character, and abuse his people. 
 
 Will his providence make provision for strong and bitter oppo- 
 sition to the very salvation he proclaims 1 Will God undertake 
 to subdue a rebel world to allegiance, and raise up in that same 
 world men ably qualified to neutralize the whole spirit and import 
 of the very overtures he proclaims 1 
 
 Why does he not blast the intellect and paralyze the tongue that 
 lend their influence to pervert the right ways of the Lord 1 Why 
 not wither the arm employed in efforts to dam up the flow of his 
 mercy 1 Why not touch the lips of his people as with a live coal 
 from his altar, and render every child of his an eloquent advocate 
 33 
 
258 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 of the doctrines and duties of his salvation. " Clouds and dark- 
 ness are round about him." 
 
 4. The afflictions of the good men, while the wicked are so extensively 
 prosperous, appear mysterious. ' 
 
 Understand me not to say that ungodliness hath the promise of 
 the life that now is. And still the fact cannot be controverted, 
 that many who have set their mouth against the heavens, seems to 
 thrive well under the present ministrations of Divine providence. 
 There attend them uninterrupted health, long life, fulness of bread, 
 and success in all their schemes, till they are emboldened at 
 length to deny that God made them, or that there is any omniscient 
 eye to see them. And because sentence against their evil works 
 is not executed speedily, their hearts are fully set in them to do 
 evil ; while contemporary with them are seen good men, who be- 
 come habituated to disappointment, poverty, and pain. Now, why 
 will God suffer this in one case ? Whom would a kind father smile 
 upon, and bless, and prosper, rather than his own children 1 When 
 was the world blessed with worthier men than the prophets and 
 apostles 1 And what class of men have ever suffered more I 
 " They had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, 
 of bonds and imprisonment ; they were stoned, they were sawn 
 asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword ; they wandered 
 about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tor- 
 mented ; (of whom the world was not worthy :) they wandered in 
 deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth." 
 
 The summary detail that Paul gives us of his own toils and suf- 
 ferings, cannot be read without strong and painful emotions. He 
 speaks of himself as having been compared with others ; " In la- 
 bors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more 
 frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty 
 stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods ; once was 1 
 stoned ; thrice 1 suffered shipwreck ; a night and a day have I been 
 in the deep ; in journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of 
 robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, 
 in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the 
 sea, in perils among false brethren ; in weariness and painfulness, 
 in watchings often, in hunger, and thirst, in fastings often, in cold 
 and nakedness." And the long list of martyrs since Paul could 
 each rehearse a tale that would torture a tender heart. Ages 
 have rolled by, when the dungeon, the rack, the cross, and fire, 
 and fagots, and every other instrument of torture, that ingenuity 
 could invent, have done their utmost to rid the world, of its bes* 
 
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 259 
 
 benefactors. And the providence of God, as if the hand of malice 
 were too slow, has hewn down the best of men in the morning of 
 life. The ministers of religion, the missionaries of the cross, the 
 pillars both of Church and state, have received a mandate to 
 quit the world, at the moment of their most extended influence, 
 and greatest usefulness. They reached an eminence that qualified 
 them to address a world, and rendered their services, as men would 
 judge, indispensable to the prosperity of the Church, and were 
 then swept into the grave. So fell Dwight and Worcester, and 
 Mills, and Hall, Everts, Cornelius, and Wisner, and Payson, and 
 the Churches adopted in their fall that mournful dirge, " Clouds 
 and darkness are round about him." 
 
 Or they sometimes live but to suffer, and groan, and weep. God 
 does not allow his people in this world a downy bed, or the con- 
 veniences of a palace, doubtless because he sees that such would 
 not be the safest route to heaven. Their religion often procures 
 them trials, and plants upon their brow a crown of thorns. Whe- 
 ther they have any more trials than they need is not now the ques- 
 tion. No doubt God could sanctify them by his Spirit, and take 
 them to heaven through a less stormy passage. Nor can their tri- 
 als be such as to render it doubtful whether G.od loves them. 
 And still it is sometimes a mystery, that God's dearest people may 
 not have more refreshments in the wilderness, and fewer pains on 
 their way to his palace in the skies. 
 
 In the meantime the wicked prosper. Health attends their per- 
 sons, and success their enterprises, and there is poured into their 
 lap a profusion of wealth and pleasures, and honors. And they 
 live, it may be, to scourge the Church, to scare the timid, and vex 
 the faithful, and stop the tardy, and wring from aching bosoms, 
 midnight complaints, and agonized prayers. Thus they flourish 
 like the green bay tree, and by a hardy constitution and a daring 
 mind, rise superior to all the plagues and pains incident to holy 
 men. The basest of human beings have sometimes measured out 
 a hundred years, have attended the funeral of every pious con- 
 temporary, and have even blown the trumpet of revolt in three 
 
 centuries. 
 
 . 
 
 And it would be infidel not to confess that God. had their life in 
 his hand, and could have rid the world, at a word, of their con- 
 taminating influence. The very men who are famous, and weary 
 themselves to commit iniquity, and would keep a thanksgiving if 
 they could see the Church exterminated ; whose .only prayer is 
 that God would hate and curse his people ; these very men live by 
 
260 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 Divine appointment, and feed daily on the charities of Heaven, 
 All this transpires under his government who holds his people 
 dear to him as the apple of his eye, and has engraven the walls of 
 their sacred city on the palms of his hands. How can we wonder 
 that the weak in faith are sometimes put to a stand by events like 
 these, and are led to say, " Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain, 
 and washed my hands in innocency." " Thy way is in the sea, 
 thy footsteps are not known 1" 
 
 5. The poverty of the liberal, while the churl is opulent, is another 
 mystery. 
 
 Ours is a miserable world, and might be meliorated in its fall, if 
 the generous were uniformly wealthy. We meet with cases of dis- 
 tress that mere sympathy, if we have no oil nor wine, cannot cure, 
 misery that cannot be washed away with tears. And if we can 
 add a few crumbs of charity, they may only aggravate the misery 
 attempted to be relieved, by creating a taste that cannot be grati- 
 fied, or men may lack these sympathies, but have the means of 
 their gratification. Many know not where to bestow their fruits, 
 and their goods, while the poor may beg unpitied the- crumbs that 
 fall from their table. But with this misery they give themselves 
 no concern. T^he wounded may be in the streets, but they can 
 pass by on the other side. The widow's fires are gone out, and 
 her little ones are hungry, but it brings no tear into their eye. 
 Some Macedonian prayer is heard from the wilderness ; immortal 
 beings are going on to the judgment without a Bible, and are 
 finishing their probation without a hope of immortality. But why 
 disturb them with these- foreign and frivolous complaints 1 They 
 but shut their ears, and grasp their purse the harder, for every out- 
 cry of want that may assail them. 
 
 We can see them glory in the means they have, but will not use 
 in curing the miseries that lie spread around them. One man 
 could furnish his town with the gospel, but lets it lie a waste 
 place ; another could build them a sanctuary, but suffers the place 
 where God's honor dwells to crumble into dust ; another could 
 support a domestic missionary, and repair the desolations of many 
 generations ; another could charter a vessel with Bibles for India ; 
 another could educate an evangelist, and another support him in 
 some outpost of Zion ; and yet the whole of them combined will 
 not unite to buy themselves the gospel, but squander away the 
 Sabbath as the beast does. 
 
 Now were all this wealth in the hands of the benevolent, it 
 would seem wise and good in him that governs the world. The 
 
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 261 
 
 poor would be supplied, the heathen evangelized, the gospel sup- 
 ported, and the blessed God honored. It seems impossible that 
 this should not, then, be a happier world. The ruins of the apos- 
 tacy would, then, be more than half repaired, and there would be 
 seen approaching the millenial year of the world. 
 
 Now the mystery is, that God should, in so many cases, give 
 the wealth to one, and the benevolent sympathies to another; 
 should place the talents where they cannot be used, and the kind- 
 ness where it has no medium of display. The wealth rusts for 
 want of use, while benevolence bleeds over misery which it has 
 not the ability to relieve. When occasionally the two things meet 
 they are like apples of gold in pictures of silver. I could men- 
 tion characters that will go down to posterity wijh honor ; in 
 which were identified opulence and charity. With these to be 
 useful was to live, and, though dead, they yet. live in the streams 
 of charity they created, and which will continue to flow till they 
 have fertilized the wastes of many generations. But I could 
 name others who had hearts to feel, but had not the means of re- 
 lieving the wretchedness over which it was their painful luxury to 
 weep. The immortal Howard, having devoted his patrimony in 
 the cure of distress, poured out his tears over other miseries which 
 the smallness of his resources, and the shortness of human life, 
 disenabled him to relieve. To adopt the sentiment of his eminent 
 eulogist, " he visited all Europe, not to indulge in its luxuries, but 
 to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge into the infection 
 of hospitals ; to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take 
 the guage and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt ; to 
 remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the 
 forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of all men in 
 all countries. His plan was original, was full of genius and hu- 
 manity. It was a voyage of discovery ; a circumnavigation of 
 charity." Such were the efforts of one who felt for the misera- 
 ble beyond his ability to administer relief. He did honor to the 
 finest feelings of our nature, and erected to himself an imperisha- 
 ble monument in the memory of the miserable. 
 
 And it would be easy to name men of the opposite character, 
 who have the means of making the wretched happy, but on whom 
 rio child of sorrow can ever fix a look of gratitude. But we are 
 happy to say the world is now undergoing a change, by which men 
 of this description must become as contemptible as they are 
 wealthy. God is saying now to the world, that the silver and the 
 gold are his, and many, at his bidding, are casting their wealth 
 
262 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 into his treasury, and the father, who will not now aid the cause 
 of charity, will make his heirs ashamed. A suffering world has 
 raised its cry to heaven, and God has heard, and will have its 
 miseries relieved. But how strange that for so many thousand 
 years, ht should have permitted wealth and charity to be so ex- 
 tensively dissociated, when their union would have so mitigated 
 the miseries of the apostacy. 
 
 6. I mention but one other fact under the government of God 
 that would seem a mystery, the small degrees of sanctification in his 
 people. Knowing that they would never arrive at heaven without 
 his interference, God has undertaken to sanctify them by his 
 Spirit ; and has even promised that when he begins a good work 
 he will see it consummated. 
 
 There is, then, a pledge given that God will make all his people 
 like him. Hence w.e are confident that he has never abandoned 
 one that he has begun to sanctify. And still how little of the 
 image of God is seen in his people. And I have no reference now 
 to false professors, but to those who give the best evidence that 
 they love the Lord Jesus. The pious kings and patriarchs of 
 Israel all polluted their memory, and marred their enjoyment by 
 sin. The best men whose history is recorded in the volume of in- 
 spiration, are seen to have come greatly short of what God would 
 have them to be. And the Christians of the present day, are, at 
 the best, poor polluted creatures. How liable to become worldly, 
 to pollute their consciences .with crime, and dishonor the sacred 
 name into which they have been baptized. In every prayer they 
 make, one who is a stranger to his own heart is liable to infer that 
 they have polluted their hands with capital offences against the 
 laws both of God and man. Now, why will God permit his family 
 to be so corrupt 1 Would he not love them more if they were 
 like him 1 And their songs how much sweeter, and their sacrifi- 
 ces how much more acceptable, and how much more abundant 
 their comforts, and more exalted the glory that would redound to 
 their Redeemer, if they were more holy. And they are God's own 
 family, whom he will have near to him in his kingdom, and who 
 are to reflect his glory for ever. He intends to go on operating 
 in their hearts till he makes them like himself, and yet he permits 
 them to carry about with them, till they die, a body of sin and 
 death. It is wonderful that an everlasting covenant should bind 
 such polluted creatures to their holy Redeemer ; that their sins do 
 not forfeit them the endeared relationship, and cut them off from 
 hope, and happiness, and heaven. And equally strange, on the 
 
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 263 
 
 other side, that since God could, by a single word, render them 
 perfectly holy, he should still permit them to progress so slowly 
 in their way to perfection. Why not say to the whole family of 
 believers, " I will, be ye clean," and thus, in one moment solve the 
 mystery, and render millions of hearts happy 1 " What I do thou 
 knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. The subject should render us humble. Our view of every sub- 
 ject is so limited and so obscure, that no very great degree of 
 confidence can become us. It may give us joy that God knows 
 how every thing will terminate, and that in the end we shall know 
 that God has done all things well. But while we know so little, 
 and with regard to many things hardly venture to have any opin- 
 ion, the deepest humility becomes us, and the greatest modesty, 
 when we think or converse on the ways of God. A proud man, in 
 such a world as this, is a monster, and not to be tolerated till he 
 is smitten with a deep sense of his own insignificance. To be 
 learning all we can is our duty, and still it is our duty to feel till 
 we die that we have only read a single page of the book of Provi- 
 dence, and have read that page by the dimmest twilight. We 
 may have as enlarged hopes of the discoveries of futurity as we 
 please to cherish, may calculate one day to know even as we are 
 known ; but to have at present any confidence that God has made 
 a full disclosure on any subject, is to lose sight of our own novi- 
 ciate, and prepare ourselves for sad and everlasting disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 2. While the present state of things is calculated to destroy all 
 self-confidence, it prepares the way for the most enlarged faith. 
 The less we know, the greater occasion is there to believe, the less 
 we are permitted to discover of our path with our own eyes, the 
 more absolute the necessity that we lean upon the hand of God. 
 If we walk in darkness, and have no light, the command is that we 
 trust in the Lord, and stay ourselves upon our God. If we can but 
 walk safely, though it be by starlight, we may rest assured that, 
 by-and-bye, when the sun has risen, we shall see that God has led 
 us in the right way, that we might go to a city .of habitation. 
 Surely our confidence in him may rise to the highest pitch of as- 
 surance. If it be important that we learn, before we reach hea- 
 ven, to rely with the most entire confidence on the truth and faith- 
 fulness of God, then are we placed in the very world where we can 
 learn this lesson to the happiest advantage. One could not learn 
 
264 THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 to believe in heaven, learn to trust where no danger is, learn to wait 
 when every good is present, or be diffident when the whole mys- 
 tery is developed. And we cannot tell now how much good it 
 may do us in heaven to have been bred for that world in the very 
 twilight that now surrounds us. It may render heaven a far hap- 
 pier world than it would otherwise have been. This world may 
 ' hereafter be seen to have been the nursery where only we could 
 have learned some of those first lessons that lay a broad founda- 
 tion for progress and joy in the acquisition of heavenly science. 
 And we may a thousand times bless the Lord in our future songs, 
 that no farther light was granted us when we passed this desert. 
 Let faith be strong and we can hear songs in the night. Job sung 
 sweetly while his night was the darkest. " I know that my Re- 
 deemer liveth." His song was the dictate of faith which darted 
 through the cloud, and perched him upon the summit of Tabor, 
 where lay smiling in his eye the fields of promise. There he 
 sung, and Moses after him, and there if we can but climb, we shall 
 see a wider, and fairer, and more fertile Canaan than gladdened 
 believers under the darker dispensation. Come ye disciples of the 
 Lord Jesus. " Try, try your wings," let your faith put forth its 
 mightiest efforts, and soon you rise above this twilight, and ten 
 thousand intricacies of providence disclose their mystery, and you 
 see a wise, and great, and good Jehovah managing, with unerring 
 skill, the darkest operations of this beclouded world. 
 
SERMON XXII. 
 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 JOHN XIII. 7. 
 
 What I do thou knoweet not now, but thou shall know hereafter. 
 
 THE operations of Divine providence afford the believer a sub- 
 ject of contemplation, the most delightful. Little as he can know 
 in his present state, and darkened as must be all the views of a 
 finite mind, when employed in tracing the footsteps of an incom- 
 prehensible God, still the research is pleasant. When vision fails, 
 faith operates. The solution of one mystery, leads us to antici- 
 pate the moment when others, darker still, shall be solved. The 
 light that has dawned shall shine brighter and brighter unto the 
 perfect day. It is the God we love, who is seen to operate. Not 
 only can he do no wrong, but he will yet permit us to see that he 
 has done right. A child passing a wilderness in a dark night, in 
 company with his father, would not feel alarmed, if for a moment, 
 he could not see the hand that led him. Parental love secures the 
 child, and filial confidence renders him content and happy. The 
 wilderness has its limits, and the darkness its period. Creatures, 
 from their very, structure, can never know but little, and at present, 
 comparatively nothing. It is enough for us, that he who operates, 
 knows ; he who moves the machinery, has decreed that the result 
 shall be wise and happy. And- yet it is our duty to obtain all the 
 light we can. We should be far less ignorant of God and his 
 works, if we were more industrious in our researches. Half the 
 mystery of which we complain^ we create by our inattention and 
 our depravity. 
 
 1. We can at present know but little of the ways of God. 
 
 1. We often mistake the Divine purpose. In many cases the ef- 
 fect, which God designed to accomplish by a particular train of 
 operations, is already produced, while yet we are looking out for 
 other effects. Deceived as to what was God's main purpose, we 
 imagine the event distant, which has already transpired. God will 
 give us at present no other account of his purpose, than that con- 
 34 
 
266 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 tained in his word, and this relates merely to our duty, and the 
 consequences of obedience. It may be the design of God to ac- 
 complish nany things, which we should have supposed, would 
 never have entered into his plan. He may permit men to act 
 basely, merely to illustrate the depravity of their hearts, and thus 
 corroborate the testimony of his word ; or that his justice may 
 shine the more conspicuously in their condemnation ; or that they, 
 in their overthrow, may become a beacon to warn others ; or that 
 his people may be rendered the more grateful, for the benefits of 
 restraining and sanctifying grace. We are altogether too igno- 
 rant to determine what is a desirable event. We may lament as an 
 incurable evil, what God may esteem an invaluable good. Hence 
 we may labor to defeat an event, to accomplish which all the at- 
 tributes of omnipotence are embarked. Our prayers and energies 
 may be excited to agony in warding off a storm, which, it is his 
 purpose shall come down upon us in all its fury. We watch at 
 the couch of a languishing child ; our life is bound up in his ; if it 
 die, it seems to us that God must design to undo us ; and yet, 
 perhaps, that child was given us that it might die in our arms, and 
 be the means of our sanctification. We dread some apprehended 
 revolution, as calculated to sap the foundations of our civil liber- 
 ties, and yet God may see that it will enhance our blessedness. 
 Hence it will often happen, that God and his people will seem to 
 be at strife. They aim at his glory, and suppose that he would 
 be honored by an event which, should it transpire, would injure 
 them, and cover his throne with a deeper darkness. But in a case 
 like this, God will approve our motives, but will thwart our pur- 
 pose ; and when the series of events is finished, we shall see and 
 confess that we were mistaken, and that God was wise. 
 
 2. The remoteness of the cause from the effect, renders inexpli- 
 cable many of the events of Divine providence. When we see the 
 wondrous machine in motion, we look for results too soon. For- 
 getful that one day is with the Loyl as a thousand years, and a 
 thousand years as one day, we expect him to finish his work in an 
 hour. The wheel we now see in motion will move another, and 
 that another, and another, and another, till at length the hundredth 
 generation will see accomplished, an enterprise which we see begun. 
 Voltaire about a century since sowed the seeds of the French rev- 
 olution, and thus commenced a train of events, that probably will 
 continue in operation till the last day. Jeroboam instituted an 
 idolatrous worship, which resulted twenty centuries afterward in 
 the ruin of Israel. Mohamed more than one thousand years ago, 
 
THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 267 
 
 compiled a system of falsehood, which now chains in the dun- 
 geons of death, perhaps one hundred millions of souls. But we 
 must be infidels too, to deny that these are all events of Provi- 
 dence, by which ultimately, God will cover himself with glory. 
 
 And the subject will apply itself to things nearer home. A 
 careless father admits into his family to-day a worthless laborer, 
 whose pernicious principles and example debauch and ruin his de- 
 scendants to the fifth, and perhaps the tenth generation, and, it 
 may be, ultimately render his family extinct. A mother, to cover 
 the villany of her son, denies a fact, or asserts a falsehood in his 
 presence, and thus teaches her child to prevaricate, and entails 
 crime and infamy upon her remotest posterity. A father breaks 
 the Sabbath, and deserts the sanctuary, and thus places his offspring, 
 for many generations, in the seat of the scorner. There is really 
 no calculating how extensively may flow the streams of corrup- 
 tion ; how remote from its source may be the outlet of those wa- 
 ters, that carry wretchedness and death in their course. 
 
 Or if we look at the brighter side of the picture, the prospect 
 will be more pleasant. David, and Moses, and Asaph, three thou- 
 sand years ago, penned those divine songs, which to-day produce 
 joy and gladness in every part of Christendom, and will continue 
 to multiply the happiness of believers, till the second coming of 
 the Redeemer. Many a pious mother a thousand years ago, taught 
 her children those principles, which, to-day secure to her a pious 
 posterity, and to the world a host of benefactors. Our forefathers 
 founded those institutions which are now the pillars of our land, 
 and taught those principles which are now the stay of our churches, 
 and the prolific sources of our revivals. And when the great 
 drama shall be finished, we shall, doubtless, see many causes and 
 their effects separated from each other, to the distance of a hun- 
 dred generations. In these circumstances, how can we hope that 
 in the passing events there will not be many things inscrutably 
 dark and mysterious. If a force were seen in operation in this 
 country, which was to produce its effects in the north of Europe, 
 or In some isle of the Pacific, who could hope to remain at home, 
 and comprehend fully the structure of that machine 1 And the 
 case is the same when time, as when space separates the cause 
 from the effect. Standing by the little rivulet that issues from a 
 mountain spring, how can we hope to measure and explore the ef- 
 fects of that stream, when it has traversed a continent, and is pour- 
 ing out its waters into the bosom of the ocean. Could we follow 
 the eye of God down through the unmeasured tracts of time and see 
 
268 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 every plan finished, all mystery would vanish. Thus, perhaps, the 
 angels, born to noble enterprise, and raised by their immortality 
 above fatigue, feast their expanded minds, on the interesting nov- 
 elties of a wonder-working God. 
 
 3. We are often involved in mystery, because we do not see 
 the connection betwen the powers operating and their results, 
 even when not very remote. Hence many causes appear never to 
 have produced their legitimate effects, and many effects appear to 
 have transpired without a cause. There was a cause which pro- 
 duced the effect, but one or the other was hid from our view. 
 The human mind was, perhaps, incapable of looking upon both at 
 the same glance. A child surveys a complicated machine, but is 
 able to see no connection between the motion of a water-wheel, 
 and the effect produced. We see a stream of liquid fire pouring 
 from the bosom of a cloud ; in a moment we see an oak, which had 
 withstood the storms of a century, rived from its summit to its 
 roots, but how this effect is produced, we are unable to say with 
 any good degree of assurance, after the researches of six thousand 
 years. There is a philosophy that can neutralize the liquid fire ; 
 there is an eye that can trace the forked lightnings ; there is a 
 hand that can bind together, by intermediate links, the most remote 
 extremes. To one thus endowed, and to him only, there can be 
 no mystery. The cause and effect may be near, and the connec- 
 tion natural and visible, and yet that connection hid from us. Pe- 
 ter could see no relationship between the humiliating act of the 
 Redeemer in washing his feet and the lesson of condescending 
 kindness which that act was intended to teach. Paul, with all his 
 faith, wondered that he must be tortured with that thorn in the 
 flesh. And many a Christian, since then, has quarrelled with his 
 circumstances, as calculated to retard his spiritual growth, and 
 has endeavored to thrust himself from a situation, where he was 
 learning the best lessons that heavenly wisdom could teach. 
 
 4>. Many things are to us mysterious, because we see but in 
 part. But one scene of the grand drama falls under the view of 
 any one generation. We see the commencement of a process, 
 which will not be finished till the judgment ; or we see a result, 
 whose remote cause lies hid among the ages that have elapsed. 
 When the last day, which will see every scheme accomplished, 
 shall throw back its light upon the long train of causes, which 
 shall then be seen yoked with their specific results, the darkness 
 of which we now complain will all have vanished. A parent edu- 
 cates his son, without any design whatever, except to procure him 
 
THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 269 
 
 the means of being wealthy and happy. Knowing the worth of 
 an education, he, in his turn, educates his son, till at length there 
 rises up in that family, perhaps not till the tenth generation, a 
 Brainerd, a Schwartz, or a Vanderkemp, by whose pious labors the 
 very desert is made to blossom, and vast tracts of its wastes are re- 
 deemed from endless desolation. But this grand result can never 
 be known till the morning of the judgment. Then we learn why 
 that first youth was educated. A man is wealthy, but covetous to 
 a proverb, and has an only son. All the wealth he can grasp he 
 hoards up for that son, but he, in the mean time, becomes dissipat- 
 ed, and dies a vagabond, and the father, destitute of an heir, is 
 constrained to put his overgrown estate into circulation, and it final- 
 ly drops into the treasury of the Lord, and is expended in sending 
 the bread of life to the perishing heathen. But this happy result 
 can never be fully appreciated till the period of the judgment. 
 Then we shall know why the father was permitted to become pe- 
 nurious, and the son dissipated. And the same is the case with 
 regard to almost every movement of the wheels of providence. 
 There is nothing finished in the present world but character, or, if 
 finished, the result is not declared. We can see the whole of no- 
 thing. Our station is at some point on the winding banks of a 
 stream, whose source, and whose outlet hide themselves in the 
 darkness of an unmeasured distance. One great object of the 
 judgment will be to show that God was wise and good in all he 
 did. and this can only be seen when every event is finished. Then 
 the widow will know why she was so early bereaved. The mother 
 will know why death tore her infant from her bosom. The aged 
 minister will see why he wept away his life over a hard-hearted 
 people. Then the believer will no longer see through a glass 
 darkly. The night that now hovers about him will be dispersed, 
 and the full blaze of a noon-day sun shine upon every unfinished 
 scene through which he is now passing. 
 
 5. Another source of mystery arises from the contrariety be- 
 tween the means employed and the end achieved. The very 
 course is pursued often which we should have judged would have 
 defeated the object. Pharaoh must feed the family of Jacob dur- 
 ing the years of famine, and to compass the object Joseph must go 
 into Egypt a slave. Who can wonder that the patriarch exclaimed, 
 " All these things are against me." The captive Jews must enjoy 
 the patronage of the king of Babylon, and to compass this design 
 Daniel must be cast into a den of hungry lions. On that dreary 
 night what believing captive dared to hope that God was dealing 
 
270 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 kindly with his people. And they must be in esteem with the 
 court of Persia, but to effect this a gallows must be erected for 
 Mordecai. When the gospel was to be disseminated, there must 
 be upon the Roman throne a cruel, ambitious Caesar, who should 
 not shrink at the sight of blood till the world was subdued at his feet. 
 The idea of communicating instruction by means of tracts originat- 
 ed in the mind of Voltaire, was first used in the propagation of infi- 
 delity, and is now among the best means employed by the Redeem- 
 er in subduing the world to himself. It was the Divine purpose to 
 cure the world of infidelity ; to accomplish this, God directed that 
 the experiment should first be made, whether a nation could be 
 happy without the Bible ; this experiment must be made in the 
 very centre of Christendom, and France must be the scene of its 
 operation. The Scriptures were committed to the flames, and so 
 complete was the conflagration, that, at the close of the scene, a 
 search was instituted and continued in Paris for four days by seve- 
 ral enterprising men, without being able to discover a single copy 
 of the Bible. The dreary result you know. Infidelity has the 
 heart of a tiger : blood is its proper nourishment, and it can feed 
 upon its own bowels. The leaders in that enterprise invented the 
 guillotine, and dyed its beams with their own blood. The Jeho- 
 vah whose word they had proscribed, swept them all, as with the 
 besom of destruction, into one untimely grave. The iale cannot 
 be told without emotion. It was the song of death, and the work 
 went on till the very grave said, " It is enough." The plague 
 spread throughout the empire, till almost every mother in the 
 realm grieved that it had not been her destiny to live and die 
 childless. 
 
 Thus we saw the legitimate fruits of infidelity, and this experi- 
 ment, strange as it may seem, has stabbed the vitals of that mon- 
 ster. No nation will again make the experiment of becoming 
 happy by the aid of infidelity. All are receiving the Bible, and it 
 will soon be read in every language under heaven. Thus means 
 are employed apparently the most contrary to the design which is 
 accomplished. 
 
 6. Another source of mystery is the amazing disparity between 
 the cause and the effect. An arrow shot at a venture, entered be- 
 tween the joints of the harness and slew the despot of Israel. A 
 shepherd's boy, with a sling and a stone, gained Israel a victory 
 over the army of Philistia. When Voltaire was a school-boy, who 
 could see any connection between him and the plague of infidelity 
 that desolated the French empire. When Alexander and Welling- 
 
THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 271 
 
 ton were in their cradles, who could predict that they were to 
 wade in triumph through the carnage of Waterloo. The British 
 government laid a duty upon one article of export to the Ameri- 
 can colonies, and it resulted in our independence. A little cap- 
 tive maid directed Naaman to Elisha, and convinced the court of 
 Syria that there was a God in Israel. So the little stone cut out 
 of the mountain without hands, will yet become a great mountain 
 and fill the whole earth. How is it possible that we should not 
 seem surrounded with mystery, while we inhabit a world where 
 the greatest events are thus constantly resulting from causes 
 which are too small to claim any relationship to those events. 
 Inattentive to what is passing, the event breaks in upon us while 
 yet the cause lies hid in the profoundest obscurity. 
 
 7. The complication of causes and effects casts a. mystery around 
 the movements of providence. The same train of causes produces 
 more than one effect. That which we term an event is often the 
 means of some other event. In the case of Joseph, God intended 
 to afflict and sanctify his aged father, to develope the depravity 
 of his brethren, to cast a little light into the court of Pharaoh, to 
 bless Joseph, to save alive his father's house, to drown the Egyp- 
 tian host, and finally, and principally to get to himself a great 
 name. And thus is connected with every operation of providence 
 a great 'variety of events. At times we find it impossible to come 
 at the main design, and perhaps in most cases the main design 
 cannot be known till the assize of the last day. 
 
 8. The perpetual variety which God observes in the movements 
 of his providence covers his designs with mystery. 
 
 We cannot calculate that the same causes will, with any uni- 
 formity, produce the same effects, even when all the circumstances 
 are apparently similar. The same disease will not operate on one 
 constitution as on another, nor on the same constitution at one 
 time as at another. The same exposure which yesterday caused 
 death, to-day is innocent ; and the medicine which in one case 
 checked the rage of a disease, in another has been thought to aid 
 its operations. The same remark, which yesterday was harmless, 
 to-day kindles a fire not to be extinguished in half a century. 
 Hence we can predict nothing. God seems designedly to cover 
 himself with impenetrable darkness. His way is in the deep 
 waters, and his footsteps unknown. " What I do thou knowest 
 not now, bu^ thou shalt know hereafter." 
 
 9. We perpetually misjudge, as to events, which are happy and 
 which unhappy. Hence the mystery of the crucifixion. How 
 
272 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 could the disciples, who hoped in a Savior that would redeem 
 Israel from civil oppression, see any wisdom in the arrest and the 
 murder of their master 1 And yet his death redeemed myriads 
 from spiritual bondage, and from the endless miseries of the second 
 . death. A mother is employed during a score of months, in rear- 
 ing to intelligence a lovely babe ; but at the juncture when it be- 
 gins to reciprocate her smiles, when it had entirely entwined her 
 heart, had become an essential ingredient in her cup of blessings, 
 she wakes and finds herself embracing a lump of lifeless clay. All 
 distress and darkness, she inquires, Why did it not perish in the 
 birth 1 Why could it not have died when I loved it less 1 Why 
 must it live till a mother cannot survive its death 1 And yet, per- 
 haps this very event is the means of snatching the mother from 
 perdition. 
 
 In one word, our ignorance is the principal reason why the 
 passing events of providence are so dark. We are inadequate to 
 judge how it becomes God to treat his people, and how his ene- 
 mies. And our duty is to wait patiently till the light of a brighter 
 dispensation dissipate the darkness of the present. 
 
 III. One word on the promise, " Thou shalt know hereafter." 
 This refers us to the light of the last day. Then Christ will come 
 to be glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe. 
 Then all the events of Divine providence will be finished. We shall 
 then know what was the Divine purpose in every dispensation. 
 The cause and the effect will approximate, will develope their con- 
 nection, will lose their contrariety, will display their parity, and 
 unfold their intricacy. We shall look no longer upon one distinct 
 part of a dispensation, but shall see the whole. What was to us 
 an infinite variety, will appear, perhaps, to have been the most 
 perfect uniformity. Judging then, as God now does, we shall see 
 that every event was happy. The whole series of events will be 
 finished, and the holy universe will have nothing else to do but to 
 wonder and adore. 
 
 REMARKS, 
 
 1. The subject is calculated to render us modest and humble. 
 In a world managed so entirely without us, where we can know so 
 little, and can predict nothing, we have very little cause to feel 
 ourselves of much importance, and have constant occasion to see 
 and feel our own worthlessness. 
 
 2. And yet we are admonished by this subject to be very cir- 
 
THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 273 
 
 cumspect in our conduct. Insignificant as we may appear in our 
 own eyes, or in the esteem of others, we may do incalculable mis- 
 chief. There is a kind of immortality attached to all we do. Our 
 imprudent language and misdeeds may commence a train of mis- 
 chievous operations, ending in the ruin of our children and our 
 neighbors ; and we may never know the extent of the mischief till 
 we hear them sentenced to perdition, and perhaps perish with them. 
 
 3. Let the subject encourage us to attempt the achievement of 
 great good. Causes are often small and weak, and yet the effects 
 incalculably grand and glorious. A little one, under the Divine 
 management, may become a great nation. If Mordecai had been 
 afraid to attempt great things, the captive Jews had been extir- 
 pated, and the very palace-chamber stained with their blood. If 
 we shrink from the labor of being useful, we may die in our in- 
 significance, and God will give to others the honor of building up 
 his kingdom. 
 
 4. How capacious beyond conception must be the mind of God. 
 Of that system of providence which we contemplate by parts, he 
 takes one comprehensive view, and manages with an incontrollable 
 sovereignty. With him time and space are nothing 5 no darkness 
 can obscure his view, no cloud intercept his vision. Very obscure 
 are our best views of him, very low our thoughts, and very poor 
 our noblest affections. In heaven they behold his glory, and offer 
 him better praise. 
 
 5. The subject must be full of comfort to God's people. The pre- 
 sent darkness is but temporary, and the God whom they love 
 manages the affairs of providence. They need have no fear that 
 God will not provide for their safety and comfort. He reigns to 
 make them happy. Their interests are identified with his own. 
 He will guide them by his counsel, and afterward receive them to 
 glory. There they may be delightfully employed for ever in con- 
 templating scenes, which now, perhaps, fill them with alarm. The 
 danger will then be over, the wilderness and the sea behind, while 
 in prospect there will be spread out a boundless and a blissful 
 Palestine. But this consolation belongs only to the true believer. 
 The hypocrite will not arrive at heaven. To him the present 
 darkness will continue, and become more and more dense for ever. 
 
 Finally, this subject offers no comfort to the enemies of God. 
 At present he may prosper them, but they can have no hope that 
 he loves them. They are forming a character for the judgment, 
 and when that character is fully formed they will go to their own 
 place. The mischief they have done will all be remembered, and 
 35 
 
274 THE WAYS OF GOD UNFOLDED. 
 
 they will receive the due reward of their deeds. They can hope 
 for no brighter day than the present. The promise in the text 
 does not reach their case, till by repentance they change their cha- 
 racter. It reads in the page of inspiration, and is a dreadful line, 
 " Darkness shall pursue his enemies." The same cloud that light- 
 ed the tents of Jacob, cast impenetrable darkness into the camp 
 of the enemy. While God's people are destined to emerge from 
 the present darkness, it will thicken about the enemies till they 
 shall find themselves involved in the blackness of darkness for 
 ever. 
 
SERMON XXIII. 
 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 MATT. XX. 6. 
 
 Why stand ye here all the day idle. 
 
 THE text is from the story of the vineyard, where laborers were 
 hired at the different hours of the day, and where some were found 
 idle even at the eleventh, and were set to work in the vineyard. 
 Thus is illustrated the great work which we all have to do, and 
 the importance that we be about it early. The object of introduc- 
 ing this parable was to induce men to think. When men will be- 
 gin to think, a very important object is gained ; this thought, how- 
 ever, must result in feeling, or nothing radically important is ef- 
 fected. And when men feel they must act, or nothing is done to 
 any lasting or important purpose. And even then the grand de- 
 sign of the gospel is not answered unless men act from right mo- 
 tives. If men suppose that God thus pushes his demands too far? 
 they have only to be told that every human parent demands all 
 this of his child. 
 
 But many fatally mistake the grand design of the gospel and of 
 life, and suppose that some external morality is all that God re- 
 quires. What then is the chief end of man 1 This is not a mere 
 child's question ; but should be put to the youth, to the middle 
 aged, and the man of gray hairs. We should put it to ourselves 
 in the morning and in the evening, and seven times a day. It 
 should be written over the posts of our doors, and worn as a sig- 
 net upon the breast. It is a question of the mightiest import. We 
 learned the answer when children, have we to this day understood 
 is import 1 In the sacred volume the question is ably and elo- 
 quently answered. " God has made all things for himself." He 
 is an infinite ocean of excellence, of wisdom, holiness, justice, and 
 goodness, and truth. He was eternally inclined to communicate 
 his happiness to creatures. If, therefore, he act according to his 
 nature, he will make creatures happy. Intending thus to act, he 
 created angels with great capacities to contain the overflowings 
 of his goodness. He made man, also, to share in the same bliss, 
 
276 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 and join the angels in a general song of praise. Having made these 
 immortal beings, be began to make himself known to them, that 
 they might begin their joy. He opened before them the treasures 
 of his grace, and invited them to partake and be happy. To us, he 
 has revealed himself in the volume of nature. The whole creation 
 glows with the beams of his love. In the, still richer volume of his 
 hand, we have his character in fairer lines. There are delineated 
 the features of immaculate beauty. 
 
 This, then, is the great business of life, to know and love our 
 Creator, and Benefactor, and Preserver. If we already know 
 something of his excellent glory, and in some measure love him, 
 our present business is to know him better and love him more. 
 
 Another part of our work is to promote the knowledge and love 
 of him in others. Is any immortal mind benighted, it is our work 
 to find access to it, and through some opening, introduce the light 
 of heavenly truth. Is any heart hardened by sin, it is our work to 
 place it beneath the droppings of the cross, and let it there dissolve. 
 It is our work to spread out before it the character of God, and 
 give it opportunity, by our transforming view, to be changed to 
 love. Believing God to be an infinite fountain of good, which con- 
 stantly overflows, our business is to open channels of communica- 
 tion, that it may flow out and bless the world. In one word, this 
 is our business, we are to use our time, our influence, our wealth, 
 our every talent in the grand business of causing God to be known 
 and loved. This is the chief end of man. 
 
 This is the work which every man must do, or God will accuse 
 him of standing idle. It is not the business of ministers only. 
 None in heaven, earth, or hell, are exempt. God has not made 
 one creature, that can be spared from his work. Could he have 
 spared the instrumentality of a single creature which he has made, 
 that creature would not have been made. He would not have 
 moulded that body, he would not have infused that immortal spirit 
 to be a mere cumbrance to creation. 
 
 No one can be excused. Not an angel can be spared, not a man 
 must be unemployed, not a devil but must advance his praise. God 
 must be known and loved. Are there not some of my dear read- 
 ers who have not yet began this work 1 It is to no purpose, 
 that you have been industrious ; it is to no purpose that you 
 have spent anxious days and restless nights ; it is to no purpose 
 that you have heard many sermons, and attempted many prayers ; 
 it is to no purpose that you have fed the poor, and clothed the 
 naked, and led moral lives ; if you have neglected the Divine glory, 
 
THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 277 
 
 you have done nothing in the account of God. Will conscience 
 now do its office, do any of you feel willing to acknowledge, that 
 as yet you have done nothing 1 To you, then, I propose one short 
 question, " Why stand ye here all the day idle ?" 
 
 I. Is it because you know not what you have to do ! Not one of 
 you can make this plea, you have had the Bible in your hands from 
 your infancy. If you have neglected to read it, or if you have 
 willingly misunderstood its meaning, it is nevertheless true, that 
 God has given you a revelation of his will, in his word. The parts 
 of that sacred book which your memory retains, bears daily testi- 
 mony against you. 
 
 You have listened to a preached Gospel. The ambassadors of 
 Christ have often pressed upon you, your duty. They have search- 
 ed the Scriptures, and told you the will of God. One after ano- 
 ther has Deen sent, till by their united efforts, unless you have ab- 
 sented yourself from the house of God, they have explained your 
 whole duty. From Sabbath to Sabbath, they have taken their 
 stand in the sacred desk, and have published in your ears their 
 heavenly message. .Not only on the Sabbath, but on other days 
 have you been invited. Scarcely, since you left your cradle, has 
 the Gospel trump ceased to vibrate upon your ear, and God will 
 have kept the whole account. 
 
 Many of you have enjoyed the instructions of pious parents ; 
 parents who have labored from year to year, with many discour- 
 agements, and many tears, to impress your minds with a conviction 
 of truth and duty. They have spoken of these things to you, 
 " when they sat in the house, and when they walked by the way, 
 when they lay down, and when they rose up :" with all the tender- 
 ness of anxious love, have they pressed upon you, your obliga- 
 tions to your God, and your dying Savior. 
 
 Some of you had other friends, who have been faithful to your 
 souls. Perhaps the wife of your bosom has awakened you in the 
 midnight hour, to tell you, that you was sleeping on the margin of 
 the pit. Perhaps a brother or a sister has wept over you, and 
 plead with you to be reconciled to God. 
 
 Had you enjoyed none of these means, you still might have 
 known your duty. You might have learned much of God from 
 the works of nature ! For the invisible things of him, from the 
 creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the 
 things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. The 
 very heathen are without excuse. Even the knowledge of God 
 
278 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 which they may acquire, would render them capable of serving 
 him. What excuse, then, will there be for you ! Indeed, the Af- 
 rican and Hindoo can tell you, that your ignorance will furnish 
 you no excuse. 
 
 You know that there is one only living and true God, who is 
 your Creator, and whom you ought to love and serve ; assured 
 that you are giving up your plea of ignorance as untenable, I again 
 ask, " Why stand ye here all the day idle ?" 
 
 II. Is it because it is not an important work, to which you are 
 called ! You suppose it, then, of small importance whether God 
 be honored, or whether you or your fellow-creatures be happy. So it 
 seems, then, of no importance, that, what was God's object in cre- 
 ating you, should be accomplished ! Should he think it of suffi- 
 cient importance to induce him to create you, and will you think 
 it too trifling an object to engage your attention | Can you possi- 
 bly think it of no importance, that God be known and loved by 
 his creatures 1 God himself is happy in being known and loved. 
 Herein he acts out his nature, and continues his own immortal 
 blessedness. Where, then, can be an object half so grand ! 
 
 The creatures of God can never be happy, except by knowing 
 and loving him. In no other way, did ever men or angels enjoy 
 true bliss. And it seems you are regardless, whether they are 
 happy or not. Are you, then, willing that heaven should cease to 
 be a place of joy and songs ! Are you willing, in wanton cruelty, 
 to tear away the angels' harps ! Are you regardless whether any 
 of your fellow-creatures ever again feel the transports of holy 
 love ! If so, pray tell me where is your benevolence. 
 
 In saying that the work is not important to which you are invited 
 to attend, you implicitly say, that your own salvation is not impor- 
 tant. Is it then, unimportant that you have God for your friend ! 
 In times of affliction, when you will be sinking under the pressure 
 of grief, will it be of no importance to you, whether you have a 
 God to support you ! In the hour when you die, can you grapple 
 with the monster alone ! Can you pass undismayed through the 
 shadow of death, without any Divine conductor ! Is it a matter of 
 indifference to you, whether you die under the curse of the law 
 or under the smiles of a pardoning God ! When with your dying 
 breath you cry, " Lord, Lord, open unto me !" are you willing to 
 hear him- say, " Depart, I never knew you /" In the morning of the 
 resurrection, would it not give you joy, to have the Savior meet 
 you at the grave, and bear you home to your Father's presence I 
 
THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 279 
 
 In the day of judgment, would you not be glad to have Christ for 
 your advocate ! Would you not wish to hear the transporting sen- 
 tence, " Come, ye blessed of my father, enter into the joy prepared 
 for you from the foundation of the world !" Would you not wish 
 to be on the right hand of the judge ! And when slow eternity is 
 rolling away its ages, would you not rejoice to sit among the re- 
 deemed, and help them sing the song of Moses and the Lamb ! Is 
 it not, then, an important work to which God invites you ! I hear 
 you say, it is. " Then why stand ye here all the day idle /" 
 
 III. Is it because it is an unreasonable work ? What then was 
 ever reasonable ? You are required to attend to the business for 
 which you were, the business for which God designed you, for 
 which he has prepared you. He made you for himself, and now 
 only requires that you serve him. He gave you the faculties you 
 possess, and now only requires you to use them as he directs. 
 He constantly feeds and clothes you ; and now only asks you to 
 devote that life, which he makes his care, to his service. How 
 could you possibly be better employed, than in serving and loving 
 God] Where is there an employment so grand, so worthy an 
 immortal creature 1 The angels are thus employed, and esteem it 
 an honor. They think it reasonable, that their noble powers 
 should be engaged in the service of God. And yet is it possible 
 that you should think it unreasonable ? 
 
 Is it unreasonable that you should make exertions for the salva- 
 tion of your fellow-creatures ? Their happiness is worth as much 
 as yours. In heaven they would rejoice as loud as you ; in ever- 
 lasting burnings they would be as miserable as that immortal 
 spirit of yours. They, as well as you, are destined to live for ever 
 in joy or misery. You would think it reasonable that they should 
 make exertions to promote your happiness, then why not you to 
 promote theirs 1 Can one, possessed of real compassion, ,ook 
 upon a world ignorant of God, under the curse of his law, going 
 down to people the regions of eternal despair, and feel no distress, 
 and make no exertions to save them ! 
 
 But there is another thought which I hope will come home to 
 your hearts. You are called to make exertions for your own sal- 
 vation. Is it not reasonable that you attend to this matter 1 Who 
 will 'attend to it, if you neglect if? This is your seed-time, and 
 if you misimprove it, must you not expect to " beg in harvest, and 
 have nothing 1" Is it not a shame that you should make no exer- 
 tion for yourself, when heaven, and earth, and hell, are anxious 
 
280 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 for you '( God contrived a way for your salvation, Christ died to 
 redeem you, angels flew to bear the tidings of mercy and to min- 
 ister to the heirs of salvation, the saints in glory wait for the news 
 of your conversion, and saints on earth are praying for you, and 
 pleading with you, devils are anxious to keep you out of heaven. 
 All this anxiety, and you none for yourselves ! Tell me anything 
 under God's heavens more unreasonable, than this want of concern 
 about your own salvation. 
 
 Is there any unreasonable sacrifice that religion would require 
 of you 1 You are required to renounce your sins, to take up your 
 cross, and follow Christ. And now, in all this, what do you sacri- 
 fice 1 For everything you relinquish, you shall receive a hundred 
 fold in this life. For your hatred you will have love, for your 
 pride, humility, for your stupidity a lively sense of divine things, 
 for your selfishness, a warm regard for the welfare of others, for 
 Egyptian darkness, you will have the light of life, for your sinful 
 companions, you shall have the warm friendship of saints and an- 
 gels, for the regions of death, you shall have the fields of light. 
 Where, then, is the unreasonable sacrifice 1 Is there none ? then 
 
 " WHY STAND YE HERE ALL THE DAY IDLE !" 
 
 IV. Do you reply, there is time enough yet ! This excuse is the 
 most fatal ever offered ; while others have slain their thousands, 
 this has slain its tens of thousands. He that resolves to neglect 
 religion today, will be likely to neglect it tomorrow, and again the 
 next day, and so on for ever. But let me fairly understand the ex- 
 cuse. Do you mean that you have not sinned long enough 1 that 
 it will be better or easier to begin the work tomorrow 1 that it 
 would be painful to be a Christian too soon ! That you have more 
 time than you need to prepare for heaven ! that God will excuse 
 you from beginning this work today, or that he will not cut you 
 ofF, should you yet continue in your sins ! One of these must have 
 been the ground of this excuse ; let us look at each of them in order. 
 
 Do you think that you have not yet continued in your sins long 
 enough ! And how long is it since you began to rebel against 
 God 1 With some of you it is ten years ; is not this a long time 1 
 Ten years in the ranks of rebellion, is a distressing length of time. 
 All that time God has been dishonored, his work neglected, and 
 your soul impoverished. All that time you have had no God, and 
 have been miserable. You have been all that time separated from 
 the saints, an enemy to truth, and under the curse of God j now 
 may not ten years of such misery suffice 1 Alas ! I fear there are 
 
THE LOITERER AT THE VIWEYAB.D. 281 
 
 some of my readers who have been twenty, and thirty, and forty, 
 and sixty years, in all this misery, and is not this enough ! ! 
 
 Do you think the work will be easier to begin tomorrow ? This is 
 a mistake, your heart will then be harder. It will have resisted the 
 influence of one more sermon. You will have more sin to repent of. 
 God will be more angry with you. The grand enemy will have you 
 more completely within his power, and you will be nearer the mar- 
 gin of the pit. Every moment makes the work harder. Every mo- 
 ment increases the probability that you may never be a child of God. 
 Why will it be better to begin your work tomorrow 1 You will 
 then be one day back for ever. You can never be so happy 
 as though you had begun today. If the soul be capableof eter- 
 nal progression in happiness, then one day lost, puts it that much 
 behind in its heavenly career. You will then have less time to 
 do good in the world. In that case your death-bed will be more 
 gloomy. You will have less time to give evidence of your piety. 
 You will have less time to conquer your sins. There never will 
 be a day so favorable for beginning your work as today. 
 
 Do you think it would be painful to be a Christian any longer than 
 is absolutely necessary / And do you, then, suppose the Christian 
 miserable 1 Is it painful to be the friend of God ! To be a joint- 
 heir with Christ ! To have free access to a throne of grace ! To 
 have your name enrolled in the book of life ! To have your sins 
 forgiven ! To have a Savior's smiles ! Did Enoch, or Elijah, or 
 Samuel, or David, find it unpleasant to walk with God ! My Chris- 
 tian friends, do you find it unpleasant ! I am certain that every 
 Christian in Europe, and Asia, and Africa, and America, would 
 unite their testimony in saying, that they never felt joy till they 
 became the friends of God. 
 
 Do any of you suppose that you have more time than you need, in 
 order to prepare for heaven 1 This will appear not to be the fact 
 if you realize what must be done. Old habits are to be uprooted, 
 and new habits formed ; the unruly passions subdued ; a know- 
 ledge of truth acquired, and all the Christian graces implanted. 
 We are naturally very ignorant of heavenly things, and are chosen 
 to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit, and belief of the 
 truth. " Sanctify them through thy truth." Now all who calcu- 
 late to reach heaven, will need time to do all this. The oldest be- 
 liever will tell you, that he shall hardly be ready when his Master 
 comes. The youngest child, then, should not put off the work of 
 repentance a moment. 
 
 Will God excuse you from beginning the work today ? He will not 
 36 
 
282 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 He is angry with the youngest sinner for having hated him so long, 
 His uniform language is " today if you will hear his voice," " Now 
 is the accepted time." His demand of your heart is founded on 
 his right to you, and the glories that are in himself to charm you. 
 He will not excuse any creature from loving infinite beauty and 
 glory. He will not excuse you an hour, for this would be to 
 license sin for that hour, and giving up his rights for that hour. He 
 views himself as deserving not merely the service you can render 
 him after tomorrow, but the additional glory you can do him to- 
 day. 
 
 And if any hope that God will not destroy them if they put off 
 his service till tomorrow, that hope has not the truth of God for 
 its foundation. There is no promise of God that secures life to 
 the sinner for an hour. And if he lives, he cannot be sure then 
 of an offer of mercy. This very day God may give you over to 
 hardness of heart and blindness of mind, the man who is intend- 
 ing to be his servant tomorrow. Many a sinner has dropped into 
 the grave in the very act of postponing the concerns of his soul. 
 Oh ! say not, there is yet time sufficient. 
 
 While there is the spirit of postponement there is no advance 
 made even in conviction, or if there should be some conviction, 
 this spirit would destroy it all in an hour. To say the least, the 
 mind is not deeply impressed while any future day can be set to 
 turn to the Lord, or even a future hour. The heart in this case is 
 still wedded to its idols. He that would follow .Christ when he 
 had bid forewell to those that were at home, and he that would 
 first bury his father, were both in the .gall of bitterness. We 
 must be brought up to that tone of feeling that spurns postpone- 
 ment, else it is certain that there is no very deep impression of 
 any sacred truth. We exhibit awful proof, if this is the state of 
 our minds, that we are in the gall of bitterness, and under the 
 bonds of iniquity. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. The sinner who has long been accustomed to hear and repel 
 these sacred truths of God, and who is still unmoved and unawak- 
 ened, has reason to fear that God may be about to take the offer back. 
 I cannot have a doubt but he does thus treat hardened sinners. 
 And in all this he does just as men do when occasion requires. 
 For example, one merchant makes an offer to another, which he 
 leaves with him an hour ; in that time the article that he proposed 
 to sell or buy falls or rises in the market, and the offer is imnie 
 
THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 283 
 
 diately withdrawn. At any moment till the proposal is accepted, 
 it may be withdrawn. So God, at any moment till the instant of 
 the sinner's acceptance of his mercy, may quit making the offer, 
 and then the sinner's doom is sealed for ever. Then is fulfilled 
 that awful text, " He flattereth himself in his own eyes till his in- 
 iquities are found to be hateful." Oh ! it would be a thousand 
 times better for him now, if he could die a heathen, and lay his 
 bones in some dark, idolatrous land, than to go down to hell from 
 a Christian territory, where he had the word of the Lord, line upon 
 line, and precept upon precept. 
 
 2. How horrid will be those regrets with which the sinner will 
 review all this on the bed of death, and onward through a tardy 
 and thinking eternity. He cannot but remember how often he was 
 invited to enter and labor in the vineyard of the Lord, and how 
 tender, and how tearful, and pressing were many of these invitings. 
 1 have supposed that the sinner must be for ever thinking all this 
 over, and recounting every new moon, and every Sabbath day, 
 the years and the ages of misery that still remain till he has paid 
 theidebt. 
 
 And not merely will he regret that he lost so much time, but that 
 he has lost the best time. He has lost the morning of life. How 
 promptly might his great work have been done, and all done, and 
 time to spare, if he had gone into the vineyard at the rising of the 
 sun. He might have been now a tall and shining spirit in the 
 fields of light, and might have vied with angels in every song they 
 sing, and in every excursion of love with which they fill up the 
 lustrums of their blissful eternity. Their youth will be renewed in 
 heaven, but not so in the dark world ; their age will grow older, 
 and their very youth be haggard. Oh, could you see a spirit that 
 has writhed one thousand years under the regrets of the pit, and 
 sighed, and wept, and groaned, under the withering blasts that 
 have been spending their fury upon his soul, you would see the 
 most blighted and pitiable wretch in all the creation of God. 
 
 This sight may you never see, 
 This wretch may you never be. 
 
 Even should you hereafter see the kingdom of God, you must 
 be the subject of* deep chagrin that you did not enter earlier. 
 Then you might have had more time to labor, and your Master 
 might have reaped through you a larger revenue of praise. One 
 would regret, if regrets may be in heaven, that he should have 
 been called home before he had time to shine bright, and rise high 
 
284 THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 
 
 in the school of Christ below. If in such circumstances one might 
 reach heaven, he would wish an opportunity to weep before he 
 begun his everlasting song. 
 
 3. The invitation is not one to pain, or danger, or misery. One 
 would think that the invitation to labor in the vineyard must be 
 an invitation to misery, in one shape or another, and not to bless- 
 edness / but the fact is, that the work is that which blesses the 
 soul beyond any other. If you find one with nothing to do, just 
 set him at the service of the Lord, in his vineyard, and you make 
 him happy. Let him do whatsoever his hands find to do with his 
 might, and you remove whatever was the cause of his miseries. 
 In the work of God the body is kept in health, and the mind is 
 put into its healthiest and happiest condition. It is a work in 
 which life would be prolonged beyond any other condition under 
 the heavens. " Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all 
 her paths are peace." " Godliness is profitable to all things, hav- 
 ing the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to 
 come." 
 
 But there are a thousand reasons, a thousand times told, why 
 men should not permit the invitation of the text to fall but once upon 
 their ear. Their dutiful reply should be, forthwith, " I go, sir." 
 May the Spirit of the living God set home all this upon the con- 
 science and the heart of all my readers, and thus conduct us all 
 safely on to the time when the Master shall come, and the reapers 
 shall be reckoned with, and shall receive, through grace, their 
 penny a day. 
 
 God does not call you to a painful and laborious work. Even in 
 the work of repentance, that must begin the service, there is 
 nothing painful. God does not require you to unsay any thing 
 that you have said that was right, any thing that you can think on 
 with pleasure in the slow-moving ages of your eternity. Nor does 
 he ask you to undo anything but that which you never should have 
 done. You had but one Master to serve, but one grand service to 
 do, to bless your Maker, and honor your kind and generous Ben- 
 efactor, and wait to know his will, and do whatsoever he requires. 
 And when you had been a little time thus faithful, he would have 
 taken you to himself, and made you happy in the enjoyment of 
 himself for ever, in his high and holy kingdom. There was nothing 
 that we can see in the long vista of your eternity that would have 
 revolved around a painful hour, or brought over your bright and 
 glorious prospect a cloud as large as a man's hand, as long as God 
 shall live. Thus there would have opened before you a field of 
 
THE LOITERER AT THE VINEYARD. 285 
 
 day, and a scene of pleasure broad as the whole period of your 
 being. Then how sweet your immortal song would have been 
 while you vied with angels in your ascriptions of honor, and glory, 
 and power to him that loved you, and washed you from your sins 
 in his blood. 
 
 5. And there had been no dangers lurking about your path. God 
 would have given you one promise that would have spread over 
 you a safe and broad pavilion that would have covered the whole 
 field of the vineyard. " I will never leave thee, I will never for- 
 sake thee." Then you might have labored on, and won as many 
 souls to Christ as Brainerd did, and Schwartz did, and Paul did, 
 and then might have gone in with them, and *sat down with them 
 at the banquet of your Master. There had not been a serpent in 
 all the field to bite, nor a storm had gathered to beat you off from 
 your work, and you would have sung many a song to while away 
 the hours of toil, and finally sung the harvest home in accents sweet 
 as angels use, and the hundred and forty and four thousand would 
 have gladly joined you in shouting a loud and long amen. 
 
 6. And there is no need that I say, the labor to which you are 
 called by the Master of the vineyard is not a service that would 
 tire you as in the natural harvest. I do not mean to say that the 
 body may not tire and need rest. The spirit may be willing while 
 the flesh is weak. But the work is not of that servile character 
 that wears out the soul. And there is a timely rest provided. And 
 in the very field there are put the needed and the timely refresh- 
 ments. " He shall drink of the brook in the way, so shall he lift 
 up his head." Those who have labored long in the vineyard, and 
 have encountered many a tedious storm, many a scorching sun, 
 and many a withering blast, will come home at the last all fresh 
 for the rest of heaven, and will sit down and drink the wine new 
 with their Lord at his upper table in the skies. 
 
 There all the laborers will meet and bask in everlasting sunshine 
 by the ranges of the trees of life ; and their song will be, " Bless- 
 ed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, and blessed be his glorious 
 name for ever, and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. 
 Amen and amen." 
 
SERMON XXIV. 
 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE IN HIS GOSPEL. 
 
 LUKE IX. iJO. 
 Whom say ye that I am ? 
 
 ADMITTING the fact, that men may speculate correctly, while 
 their hearts are unsanctified ; or to some extent ^correctly, after 
 they are born of God ; still it is a general truth, that men will be, 
 in their moral, and in their religious character, corrupt or correct, 
 in the same proportion with their creed. If on any important sub- 
 ject they believe a lie, their false faith will present to their hearts 
 wrong motives of action, and lead to those affections, and that 
 course of conduct, that is in opposition to the law of God, and the 
 precepts of the gospel. But if men believe the truth, though it be 
 not with the heart unto righteousness, still that truth may exert, 
 at some future day, a sanctifying effect upon them, and the creed 
 adopted, through the Spirit's influence, mould them into the image 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ. And if there is one subject, rather than 
 any other, on which a serious man would guard the correctness of 
 his faith, it must be relative to the character of the Savior he trusts 
 in for eternal life. It must be essential, that we put our trust in 
 the very Redeemer that God has revealed ; else how can we hope 
 that he will acknowledge us, when he shall come in the glory of 
 his Father, with the holy angels. 
 
 Can it be otherwise, than a very important thing, to the human 
 family, to understand distinctly, his nature and character, in whom 
 they are invited to take sanctuary from the wrath to come ? Hence, 
 to know that the gospel proclaimed to us, presents the very Lord 
 Jesus, through whose stripes we must be healed, will be a question 
 of minor importance to none, who calculate first or last, to turn 
 their eye toward heaven. 
 
 In Christ's little family, this subject was early and earnestly agi- 
 tated. Our Lord would not suffer his disciples to be ignorant on 
 this point. " He asked them saying, Whom say the people that I 
 am'? They answering, said, John the Baptist; but some say, 
 
CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE IN HIS GOSPEL. 287 
 
 Elias ; and others say, that one of the old prophets is risen again." 
 He then brought the question home to their own bosom, " Whom 
 say ye that I am V Said the prompt and affectionate Peter, " The 
 Christ of God." 
 
 This subject is of high and increasing importance, at a period, 
 when it is becoming so fashionable, to consider it of no conse- 
 quence what we think of Christ. It will not be so much my ob- 
 ject to exhibit proofs of his divinity, as to show, that whatever his 
 character may be, it is important that we have correct views of 
 him. I shall arrange my thoughts under three general remarks : 
 The Lord Jesus Christ has a fixed and definite character : This 
 character is plainly revealed : If we trust in a Savior, having any 
 other character than that revealed in the Scriptures, the Lord Jesus 
 Christ will not consider this trust as reposed in him, and we shall 
 be in danger of perishing in unbelief. 
 
 1. The Lord Jesus Christ has a fixed and definite, character. It 
 would hardly seem necessary to state a proposition like this, much 
 less to attempt to establish it by argument, as it contains in itself 
 its own confirmation. The scriptures have given this name to the 
 promised Messiah, who, in the very nature of things, must have a 
 character so definite, that he can be known by his name. But if 
 the name may apply, with equal propriety, to one who is divine, 
 angelic, or human, here it seems to me is the end of all knowledge 
 on this subject. Place other subjects of revelation on the same 
 footing, and we can only guess at any thing. ' 
 
 The very idea of a revelation implies, that there are truths re- 
 vealed, but nothing is revealed, if revealed so indefinitely that we 
 cannot arrive at knowledge on the subject. As well might the 
 Bible have merely named the Savior, if after all it has said of him, 
 we can know only his name ; especially if it be an equal chance, 
 whether we shall conceive of him as one of the Three that bear 
 record in heaven, or a worm of the dust like ourselves. If God 
 has told me only the name of the Redeemer, and this is all the 
 definite knowledge I can have of him, I may be so infatuated as to 
 apply this name to a comet or a star, and affirm that God intended 
 I should trust in this for salvation. If he has left it to my discre- 
 tion to adorn the name with attributes such as I would choose my 
 Savior should possess, then it is manifest that no two might trust 
 in the same Redeemer. 
 
 But there is an absurdity in the very supposition. Every thing 
 that has being, has properties that are essential to its being, of 
 which, if you disrobe it, you take away its very essence. Thus it 
 
288 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE. 
 
 must be with the Lord Jesus Christ. You may call by that name 
 a being, so divested of the attributes that belong to the Savior, 
 that he shall cease to be the Savior God has revealed, and be as 
 entirely another as if he had had another name. The identity of 
 being is not in the name but in the nature or attributes that belong 
 to it. I remark, 
 
 II. The character of the Lord Jesus Christ is plainly revealed in 
 the word of God. We might infer from this fact, that the Bible is 
 a revelation from God ; and that the principal subject of develop- 
 ment in that Book is the Savior. The Bible was given to us to 
 make Christ known, that we might take sanctuary in him from the 
 wrath to come. Hence, to suppose that his character is left so 
 indefinitely developed that we can know nothing with certainty 
 respecting him, is to suppose God to trifle. There is an impu- 
 dence and a daring in the very supposition that causes the mind 
 to shrink from naming it. 
 
 Moreover on opening the Bible I do see the character of the 
 Savior, as definitely developed as any others of the subjects of 
 revelation. I see distinctly his humanity, in that he had a body 
 and a soul as men have. He hungered, thirsted, slept, was weary j 
 could suffer, could rejoice ; he spoke, and walked, and rode, and 
 bled, and died. And I see as distinctly his divinity. He created 
 all things, could make the bread and the wine that sustained him, 
 could know the hearts of men, could heal the sick, and raise the 
 dead, and give sight to the blind, and still the waves of the sea. 
 And I will name one text, among many, in which he is predicted 
 with all these characteristics : " Unto us a child is born, unto us a 
 son is given : and the government shall be upon his shoulder : and 
 his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, 
 the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." Here the same per- 
 sonage, who was a child and a son, is also the Wonderful, Coun- 
 sellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. 
 
 But on this point I will only stop to say, that on no particular is 
 the Bible more full and plain than on this. On none of the doc- 
 trines or duties of religion have we instruction more definite. I 
 may as well doubt what repentance is, and what faith is, and what 
 love is, and what prayer is, as who Christ is. I can explain away 
 the truth on any point as readily as relative to the character of the 
 Savior. And moreover on every point the truth hasten doubted, 
 and mistakes as essential made, as on this point. Men who are 
 
IN HIS GOSPEL. 289 
 
 not willing that the Bible should govern their faith, have missed 
 the mark infinitely on every doctrine of revelation. 
 
 III. If we trust in a Savior having any other character than that 
 given in the Bible to the Lord Jesus Christ, he will not accept this 
 trust, as reposed in himself ; and we shall be in danger of perishing. 
 If Christ has a definite character, and he must have, or he can 
 neither be known or trusted in ; and if his character is revealed 
 plainly, and this must be, or it is no harm not to know him, or to 
 have erroneous views of him ; then it must be essential that we 
 trust in the very Christ revealed. If in these circumstances we be- 
 lieve him to be possessed of a character that he has not, if we 
 invest him with attributes that he will not own, or detract from 
 him the essential and eternal properties of his nature ; will he pity 
 our weakness, and own, as confidence in him, the trust we place in 
 a Savior created by our imaginations 1 This, it seems to me, is 
 the fatal error which multitudes in the present day are persuaded 
 to adopt. It has in its favor the plea of Catholicism. We can 
 thus fellowship the whole mass of nominal Christianity ; and on 
 the same principles can even go farther, and place the image of 
 the Savior in the temples of the gods, and embrace in one univer- 
 sal brotherhood, the whole multitude of idolaters that have ever 
 bowed the knee at the shrine of devils. 
 
 On the same principle, that no harm comes to our piety from 
 erroneous views of the Lord Jesus Christ, we can prove that God 
 has been pleased with, and has accepted, every act of worship that 
 has ever been paid to an idol. What is an idol, but the Supreme 
 so degraded that he ceases to be Divine 1 and still not more degrad- 
 ed than is the character of the Savior in many a modern creed. 
 What was Jupiter, but Jehovah disrobed of his essential attributes. 
 His worshippers did not reduce him down to a mere man. They 
 gave him supremacy over the whole family of gods allowed him 
 to wield the thunders of heaven, and decree the destiny of nations. 
 True, they did not give him a very pure moral character, but the 
 best they knew how to give him. They invested him with some 
 of the very worst of the human passions, and made him commit 
 the foulest deeds of wrong and of outrage. But still, who can say, 
 on the principle that it matters not what we think of Christ, that 
 the worshippers of Jupiter were not accepted of the Lord as his 
 own worshippers. If they called their great spirit by names that 
 God has never appropriated to himself, this it will be acknowledg- 
 ed is a verbal mistake, a small matter, that God will not regard, in 
 37 
 
290 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE 
 
 those who had not the means of knowing the names, by which he 
 could choose to be invoked. But shall we go on and say, that as 
 they gave their supreme deity. the highest character they kne\v 
 how to give him, although they did not invest him with the attri- 
 butes essential to the true God, and made him finally a creature, in 
 moral character base and deformed : Shall we still say, that Jeho- 
 vah was pleased with the spirit of their worship, approved their 
 rites, and accepted their homage 1 I see not why, on the princi- 
 ples of modern Catholicism, this reasoning is not correct, and why 
 the whole herd of idolaters, in all ages, have not been accepted of 
 the Lord, as having intended to pay their supreme homage to him. 
 If what an apostle says of the Lord Jesus Christ be true, and 
 " By him were all things created that are in heaven, and that are 
 in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or do- 
 minions, or principalities, or powers ; all things were created by 
 him and for him ; and he is before all things, and by him all things 
 consist .:" if all this be true, I see not but those who give him a 
 derived and dependant existence, alter the character as essentially, 
 from that which the apostle gives him, as was the character of Ju- 
 piter distinct from that of Jehovah. What two things can be 
 more unlike, than a Savior who had no beginning of days, is self- 
 existent, and almighty, could create men and build worlds ; and 
 one who himself began to be, is dependant, and has none but bor- 
 rowed attributes. I do not see that the heathen Jove, and the Goji 
 of heaven, differ any more. 
 
 If then the Lord Jesus Christ possesses one of these characters, 
 and we trust in a Savior who possesses the other, and the Bible 
 has plainly revealed him in whom we are to trust, it hardly ad- 
 mits of a question whether we do not trust in another than the 
 Christ of the' gospel. It is not merely in the name of the Savior 
 that we trust, but in his attributes, in his qualifications to atone for 
 us, in his power to sanctify us, in the credit he has in heaven to 
 intercede for us, in his ability to subdue our enemies, and cover 
 us with his righteousness in the day of retribution ; but if he be 
 not God as well as man, he has no such qualifications to atone, no 
 such power to sanctify, no such influence to intercede, no such 
 ability to defend, or righteousness to cover us ; h/;nce there is no 
 such Savior as him in whom we trust. 
 
 Agreed, if you please, that the error will be equally fatal on 
 either side. Be it it so that the Lord Jesus Christ is a mere attri- 
 bute, an, emanation, an angel, or a man ; then do those who give 
 him a divine nature make a mistake as great, as is. made by 
 
IN HIS GOSPEL. 291 
 
 their opponents, if he be as the prophet asserts, the mighty God, 
 the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. If he be a mere crea- 
 ture, in whom God has directed us to put our trust for everlasting 
 life ; and that creature has power delegated to him, to pay the 
 price of our redemption, and purify us unto himself a peculiar peo- 
 ple, zealous of good works ; and we resolve to trust in a Savior, 
 who possesses divine attributes ; we then rely upon one who is not 
 revealed as the Savior, and may have no more hope of acceptance, 
 than those have if the opposite creed be true, who in their faith 
 depress his character, as much as in this case we elevate it. 
 
 If the Lord Jesus has a fixed and definite character, has 
 properties or attributes, of which if we disrobe him, we alter es- 
 sentially his nature, and make him another Savior ; then the ques- 
 tion is, whether those who trust in him, under these essentially 
 altered characters, may all be said to trust in the same Redeemer I 
 May a mistake like this be considered venial 1 If, too, God has 
 given us in his word a plain and intelligible record/of his will, and 
 may not, as it seems to me, be considered as having described the 
 character of the Savior so indefinitely, as to render it about an 
 equal chance, whether we shall conceive of him as human or di- 
 vine 5 then must it admit of a serious doubt, whether any radical 
 mistake can be made, without placing the soul at hazard. 
 
 God must have intended that we should have definite views of 
 Christ ; arid if he has given us opportunity to be correct, it argues 
 positive wickedness, not to receive the truth of God in all its na- 
 ked simplicity. If he has revealed a divine Savior, Ve perish if we 
 trust in one that is a creature ; or if, contrary to the light, we be- 
 lieve him divine, then do we rely on some other, than that only 
 name given under heaven among men, whereby we can be saved. 
 No trust can possibly avail us, but that which is placed in the very 
 Savior whom God has revealed. Let me place the two Saviors in 
 opposite columns, and see if an honest mind can make them one. 
 
 The one Savior, was before all The other savior, had a beginning 
 
 things, and all things were created by of days, and either emanated from 
 
 him and for him. He has the titles, God or was created by him. He has 
 
 possesses the attributes, does the divine titles only as men have, who 
 
 works, and accepts the worship, that are called gods ; has only borrowed 
 
 belong only to the true God. He in- attributes, and a delegated power, 
 
 vites sinners to him, as having in his and is worshipped only as kings and 
 
 own arm the power to save them, and emperors are. We may not pray to 
 
 promises them blessings, as having him, lest we be guilty of idolatry ; he 
 
 them of his own to give. " He that promises nothing but as the Lord's 
 
 believeth in me shall never die." He prophet, and has no blessings of his 
 
 " bare our sins in his own body on the own to give. We are not required to 
 
292 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE 
 
 tree." " With his stripes we are believe in him, but as we believe in 
 
 healed." "The Lord hath laid on Moses and John. He makes no atone- 
 
 him the iniquity of us all." The re- ment, but merely teaches truth, and is 
 
 deemed in heaven will for ever ascribe a pattern of virtue. He dies, not that 
 
 to him, under the appellation of the we might live, and meets us again in 
 
 Lamb, kingdom, and power, and glo- the last day, not to judge the world, 
 
 ry. The dying believers may with unless as a subaltern, but to be judged. 
 
 Stephen commend to him their de- He will wear no crown, and fill no 
 
 parting spirit. In the last day he throne in heaven, other than such as 
 
 will come in the clouds of heaven, are promised the apostles ; and will 
 
 with his holy angels, and will judge receive no worship but the respect 
 
 the world, and fix the destinies of all due to an eminent servant of God. 
 
 men ; and be for ever afterward adored, And if the dying commend their spi - 
 
 by the myriads of the redeemed, as rit to him they assuredly perish, 
 the Lamb that was slain. 
 
 Now the mighty question is, are these two the same I Are they 
 so the same that the trust reposed in the one, will be accepted and 
 answered to, if needs be, by the other. If but one of these Saviors 
 is revealed, and but one exists, and we have put our trust in that 
 other, are we still safe 1 Say we have cast our souls upon a cre- 
 ated Savior, shall we find at last, that we have an interest in that 
 self-existent Redeemer, who comes traveling in the greatness of 
 his strength, and is, independently on any extraneous help, mighty 
 to save 1 If of the one it may be said, this is the only name giv- 
 en under heaven among men whereby we can be saved, will this 
 be equally true of the other I I repeat the question, for it is to 
 me a mighty one, Can it be of no consequence, to which of the 
 two I look, and in which I trust for eternal life 1 Will the blood 
 of either cleanse me from all sin 1 If the Savior appointed me and 
 distinctly revealed in. the Bible, has life in himself, and the power 
 of conferring eternal life on as many as the Father has given him ; 
 and I have trusted in man, and made flesh my arm, I fear it will 
 not answer me the same purpose in the day of retribution, as if I 
 had made application to the true, the appointed, the eternal Re- 
 deemer. 
 
 It is agreed, that if there be no Trinity of persons in the God- 
 head, and the Savior proffered is a mere creature, and we refuse to 
 lean upon the appointed arm of flesh, and obstinately insist on 
 having an almighty Savior or none, our condition is deplorable. 
 We shall then be without a hiding place in the day of our distress. 
 If the Savior be God, those perish who esteem him a creature ; and 
 if a creature, those perish who believe him God. One of the par- 
 ties in this controversy is to lie down in everlasting sorrow, one 
 only will be in heaven. Else two beings, the one finite, and the 
 other infinite, are the same, and Jupiter and Moloch, and Baal, and 
 
IN HIS GOSPEL. 293 
 
 Jehovah are the same, and the worshippers of idols, in every dark 
 place of the earth, may claim at last a seat in heaven, with Abra- 
 ham, and Moses, and the prophets and apostles. 
 
 Can this be true 1 I see no radical error in the reasoning that 
 has brought me to this result, and am led to ask, with all the seri- 
 ousness with which a question ever dropped from my lips, am I 
 safe in either case 1 Has the gracious Jehovah given me a reve- 
 lation, in which he has so indefinitely described my Redeemer, 
 that with all my anxiety to know, I cannot, whether he built the 
 worlds, or was himself a part of the creation 1 whether the go- 
 vernment is upon his shoulder, or he himself subjected to the au- 
 thority of his superior 1 whether he can bestow eternal life, or 
 need to have his own life sustained by the power that breathed it 1 
 whether he will judge the world, or will stand to be judged, by a 
 greater than himself, who shall then fill the throne 1 I shall be 
 anxious for my soul till I know the truth. 
 
 0, will the blessed God give to a world like ours, already des- 
 perately ruined, a revelation of his will, and mock our helpless- 
 ness, by asserting it to be so plain, that the wayfaring man though 
 a fool shall not err, and still when I labor to know the truth with 
 all my soul, I cannot find it ! ! But I must either take this ground, 
 or believe myself lost, or believe those lost, who I perceive trust in 
 quite another savior, than him on whom I rely. There is one 
 thought that gives me relief, " Let God be true, though every 
 man a liar." The Bible is a plain and intelligible volume j the 
 Savior's character is there definitely revealed j and we can learn 
 who he is, and what he is, unless we choose to be deceived. May 
 the exalted Jesus smile on this weak attempt to vindicate his 
 character, and may he sanctify the men who would tear the crown 
 from his head, and worlds from his rule ; and make his way known 
 upon the earth, and his saving health among all nations. May a 
 great multitude, that no man can number, be redeemed to God by 
 his blood, out of every kindred and tongue, and people, and nation 
 
 If asked the reasons why I consider the subject so important 1 
 and press it so vehemently 1 I answer, 
 
 1. With the views I have of the Lord Jesus Christ, I consider him 
 shamefully traduced by the error I have meant to expose. It cannot 
 seem to me a light thing, if the safety of souls were not affected, 
 what men think of Christ ; whether they give him the honor he 
 had with the Father before the world was, or make him a weak and 
 dependant mortal ; whether they esteem him such that he thought 
 it not robbery to be equal with God, or the mere wandering Gal- 
 
294 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN PLACE 
 
 lilean, who gathered his honors from the success he had in teach- 
 ing truth and in making disciples. If we have given him our 
 hearts, we shall not be willing to see him degraded. We shall 
 wish him to retain all the titles that belong to him, and be owned 
 in all the high and holy offices he fills, and wear in the view of 
 men, all the glories that cluster round him in the view of angels. 
 We shall feel ourselves so honored, in being permitted to call him 
 Lord, as to be greatly grieved when the tongue of slander, or the 
 pen, dipped in the gall of depravity, shall attempt to degrade his 
 nature or mar his honors. A Christian needs offer no other rea- 
 son for vindicating his Lord, but that he loves him. But, 
 
 2. I offer another : / consider souls endangered by a denial of the 
 Deity of the Lord Jesus Christ. I cannot believe that when the 
 Savior has become a man or an angel, he will attract sinners to 
 him, as when he has the glories on, that I suppose the angels see 
 about him. Let him have the same character that he has in heaven, 
 and he will attract men to him, as there he attracts angels to him. 
 If he be God, they will hope that he can save them; if he built 
 the worlds, they will be the more willing to believe, that he built 
 some happy world for them ; and if he is at last to be their judge? 
 they will feel it to be the more important, that they be washed 
 from sin in his blood. I should not hope to win a single soul to 
 him in a century, in the low, and mean, and dependant attitude, in 
 which some professed ministers of the gospel, in consistence with 
 their faith, must present him. I should expect them to sneer at 
 the Nazarene, more than did Voltaire, or Hume, or Bolingbroke. 
 And I do not believe, that under such a ministry, Christ ,is often 
 embraced, or loved, or believed in. He may have some place in 
 their creed, and may become a topic of speculation, and contro- 
 versy, but in their religion, and in their hearts, I fear they learn 
 to do without him : surely he is not formed in them the hope of 
 glory. 
 
 3. / would take a dying hold of the doctrine of Christ's divinity, be- 
 cause on the same principles by which the faith of so many have been 
 unsettled on this point, every truth of God's word can be cast away. 
 Only suffer the enemy to have the ground, and hold in peace, 
 which he would take to drive you from this doctrine, and he will 
 leave you nothing to credit, in the whole of divine revelation. He 
 will tear you from the very horns of the altar, and sacrifice 
 you, along with your Redeemer, on the threshold of the sanctuary 
 of God. 
 
 When I must believe nothing that is above my reason, and that 
 
IN HIS GOSPEL. ' 295 
 
 I cannot fully comprehend, I may not believe the simplest testimo- 
 ny of revelation. When, from the urgency of this principle, I can 
 know nothing definite respecting the Lord Jesus Christ, I despair 
 of gaming from the Book of God any definite knowledge on any 
 subject. Not the being of a God, or his government over the 
 world, or the fact of a future judgment, or an eternal state of retri- 
 bution, is revealed with- any more definiteness, than the underived 
 Deity of Jesus Christ. I could reason them all away, and every 
 doctrine and precept along with them, by the same sophistry, by 
 which men would forbid me to offer my prayers to the risen and 
 exalted Redeemer. I would then hold to the doctrine, because if 
 1 give it up, I must give all up, and throw my whole creed afloat, 
 and myself afloat, to be drifted, I know not where, and shipwreck- 
 ed, I know not upon what inhospitable shore, where await me, 
 death, or life, I know not. 
 
 4. If you still ask me, Why my zeal in defence of the higher na- 
 ture of the Lord Jesus Christ 1 I answer yet again, " If it be pos- 
 sible" and " the very elect" should be cajoled into a doubt on this sub- 
 ject, it would do them incalculable injury. 
 
 That doubt would mar their creed,; for they must yield other doc- 
 trines, when their Redeemer has become a creature. That atone- 
 ment which he only could make ; that ruin of our nature, which 
 he only can repair ; that ever-enduring hell from which he only 
 can rescue us ; that Sabbath which his rising made ; that Comfort- 
 er, which he kindly sent ; and that plenary inspiration of' the 
 scriptures, which establishes his divinity ; must be all plucked 
 from their creed, and it would stand then, like a pine, lightning- 
 smitten^ scorched in its every leaf, and rived to its deepest roots, 
 to be the haunt of the owl, and the curse of the forest. When 
 you shall blast my creed like this, you may have, for a farthing, 
 the residue of my poor mutilated Bible, and I will' sit down and 
 weep life away, over this benighted world, to which is reserved the 
 blackness of darkness for ever. 
 
 It would diminish their comforts ; for the same truth that has 
 sanctified them, has made them happy ; and not truth more than 
 the high character of their Redeemer. Take away this founda- 
 tion, and what will the righteous do 1 Their hopes have been 
 high, and their joy elevated, and their songs heard in the night, 
 because they had, or thought they had, a mighty Redeemer. From 
 this fact, they calculated to live out the assaults of temptation, and 
 conquer their lusts, and hold on by some pin of the covenant, till 
 they should plant their feet on the golden pavement of the New 
 
I 
 
 296 CHRIST MUST HAVE HIS OWN -PLACE 
 
 Jerusalem. Tell the Church, that she has no such almighty Re- 
 deemer as she has dreamed of, and there will be tears in all her 
 tabernacles, and I fear if there will be silence through half the 
 choir of heaven, and the angels of God be afraid any longer to 
 worship him. 
 
 It would hurt their usefulness. They have had high hopes, be- 
 cause they had a mighty Redeemer, and were active in duty, 
 because they had elevated hopes. Sap these hopes, and you sunder 
 the very sinew of action. Will they care to be sanctified, when 
 they shall have learned that their Lord was peccable ! Will they 
 press on, to see him as he is, and be like him, when they shall 
 doubt whether he will be known in heaven but by the nail-prints 1 
 will they care to invite others to him, when he is robbed of all the 
 charms that attracted them in the days of their espousals 1 Will 
 they pray with the fervency they have done, thai the heathen may 
 be given him for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the 
 earth for a possession, when they shall know that he is to rule by 
 delegation, and does not come into the government but by heir- 
 ship 1 Will they spend their perishable wealth to honor him, 
 when they shall feel assured, that he has no incorruptible treasures 
 with which to repay them 1 
 
 How is it with those who have made the experiment, and have 
 delivered over their creed to be blotted and interlined, till the 
 Deity of their master is gone, and every other truth that hung on 
 it. Are they active for God 1 do they bless the heathen with the 
 gospel 1 do they disseminate the Bible 1 do they press the con- 
 sciences of sinners, in their daily walk, and in their evening visits, 
 and give an ungodly world no rest, till they love their eclipsed, 
 and darkened, and degraded Redeemer 1 
 
 Oh, hide then this error from God's elect, and let them have the 
 Savior they are disposed to serve, till he take them up, and show 
 himself to thenvin all the glory that he had with the Father before 
 the world was. 
 
 I naturally close with the question, " What think ye of Christ 1" 
 This question, faithfully answered by the minister of the gospel, 
 will give you very much the character of his ministry ; as it will 
 define the Savior he proclaims, and of course the success he has ; 
 and answered by the private Christian will give the character of 
 his religion. I do not now mean to say that orthodoxy is piety, 
 but simply, that the heart that has been sanctified through the 
 the truth, will apprehend and love the truth. In other words, 
 faith will credit the Divine testimony. Does the Lord Jesus hold 
 
IN HIS GOSPEL. 297 
 
 in our ministry, and our creed, the high place that God has given 
 him in the gospel 1 If we make him merely a teacher and a pat- 
 tern, so was Moses and Paul. And if we feel that we need no 
 higher Savior, then is it doubtful, whether we have discovered 
 more than half our ruin. If we have sunk no lower than that a 
 iinite arm can reach us, we have yet, I fear, to learn that we are 
 sinking still, and that the pit is bottomless. A gospel that is the 
 contrivance of men, will suit only those who have never felt the 
 plague of their own hearts. When we shall have felt the full 
 pressure of the curse that rests upon us, we shall feel the need of 
 one to save, strong as him that created us. The horrors of our 
 condition will scare from us every deliverer, but him who can 
 quench with his own blood, the fires that have been kindled to 
 consume us. When we have looked once upon the incensed 
 throne, we shall hail one as our high priest, who can go in and 
 sprinkle the mercy seat ; who can neutralize that consuming ire 
 which issues from the countenance of a provoked Jehovah ; one 
 who has that influence in the court of heaven, that he can procure 
 our acquittal, and can place himself in the van of the redeemed 
 multitude, and conduct us up to heaven, and there plead his own 
 merits as the ground of our acceptance, and the foundation of our 
 everlasting blessedness. " Amen, even so come, Lord Jesus, come 
 quickly." 
 
 38 
 
SERMON XXV. 
 THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 
 
 MATTHEW V. 17. 
 
 Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets: [ am not come to destroy, but to 
 
 fulfil. 
 
 IT is then only that the gospel appears in all its glory j when it 
 infringes not upon the sacred rights of the law. One of God's 
 institutions must not eclipse the glory of another. God did not 
 make provision for the salvation of men, because he had become 
 convinced that he had issued a bad law, and would thwart its de- 
 sign. The law stood in his eye as glorious, after men had drawn 
 its curse upon them, as when it dropt fresh from his lips, amid the 
 smoke of Sinai. When he instituted the law, he knew that men 
 would break it ; and he affixed his sanctions, sure that all our race 
 would incur them, and many endure them. It was not an experi- 
 ment, made without a knowledge of the result, but with the result 
 provided for. 
 
 Hence the legal and the gospel dispensations, are but different 
 parts of the same benevolent system ; by which a good Jehovah 
 would bind to himself, and when the bond should be broken, 
 would recover and restore to his love and favor, beings he had 
 eternally designed should be happy. And hence our Lord thus 
 early announced it as his design, not to abrogate, but to establish 
 the law. Fixed and stable as were the ordinances of the heavenly 
 bodies, and firm the earth he had come to plant his feet upon, these 
 should all pass away, while not a jot or tittle of the law should fail. 
 
 Accordingly, as the Lord Jesus gathered disciples, and freed 
 them, of course, from the curse of the law, he still subjected them 
 to it, as a rule of duty. He transferred, from the Jewish Church 
 to his own family, the very commandments which Moses wrote 
 on the tables of stone. Not an item did he repeal, not a precept 
 alter, not a sanction soften. And the whole gospel is a broad and 
 lucid exposition of the law. Hence it is now as much the fact as 
 ever, that " Cursed is every one that continueth not in the things 
 written in the book of the law, to do them." I shall state, in a 
 
THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 299 
 
 few words, the error I would oppose, and which, as it seems to 
 me, is in direct opposition to sound reason, and the whole Bible ; 
 and then proceed to illustrate the doctrine of the text, that The 
 gospel was not intended to supplant, but does sustain the law. 
 
 I. State the error. The scheme is, that men by the fall, if not 
 disabled, have become so averse to the law, that a perfect obedience 
 is impossible ; and that God will now accept of an obedience that 
 is sincere. If men will obey the law, as well as they are able 
 with their carnal mind, the temper which, without their fault, they 
 inherited from their first parents, God will accept them ; and 
 wherein their obedience fails, the merits of Christ will be substi- 
 tuted. By this scheme, the death of Christ removes the curse of 
 the law, from all men, soon as it lights upon them : for all do ren- 
 der to the law, the best obedience they are disposed to, and of 
 course are safe, if they should live and die without repentance. 
 It must be seen in a moment, that, if to whatever extent men are 
 unwilling to obey, they are unable, then all obedience, . but that 
 which is rendered, is dispensed with. And none is rendered ; for 
 a kind of sincerity, consistent witlj the most confirmed hatred of 
 God, and his law, and which, for aught I see, devils may have as 
 well as men, becomes a substitute for right affections, and has all 
 the merit of a perfect obedience. The whole amounts to this ; 
 God relinquishes his right to any farther obedience than men, 
 totally depraved, are disposed to pay him. In this scheme an 
 atonement is made necessary, in order to finish out and render 
 accepted the obedience of the sinner. 
 
 This scheme, as altered to accommodate it to modern taste, 
 relinquishes the atonement, and substitutes repentance. At what- 
 ever time in this life, (and why not in the life to come 1) the sin- 
 ner shall be sorry that he has broken the law, and shall practise 
 some reform, God will promptly forgive him, without any refer- 
 ence at all to the scenes of Calvary. He has in his heart so much 
 compassion, and cares so little, it amounts to this, whether the 
 law is respected or reprobated, that the very first tear of the 
 offender washes away all his sins. 
 
 These schemes are substantially the same, and are alike sub- 
 versive of the law 6f God. They agree in casting off this poor 
 world from all allegiance to its Maker, and virtually render him a 
 God, not worthy either of the fear of devils, or the esteem and 
 confidence of angels. 
 
 I have thus stated the error, and have meant to do it candidly, 
 
300 THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL 
 
 which seems to me to pour its contaminating influence through all 
 the false systems of theology which are at present employed to 
 injure the Church of Christ,, and destroy the souls of men. I 
 proceed, 
 
 IJ. To illustrate the doctrine of the text. I shall arrange my 
 thoughts under six general remarks: The first great commandment 
 of the law, from its very nature, cannot be repealed , Nor can the 
 second ; The spirit of the law and the gospel is the same ; The 
 gospel is a useless device, but on the supposition that the law is 
 good, and must be supported ; The gospel, that shall set aside the 
 law, will defeat its own design ; The gospel is most glorious when 
 the law is fully sustained. 
 
 I. The first great commandment of the law cannot be repealed. 
 " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." The very 
 nature of this law decides, that a gospel which would neutralize 
 it, would be a curse and not a blessing. The Creator must require 
 his creatures to consider him the object of their supreme regard ; 
 he can ask no less of devils. This precept is founded on the 
 Divine excellence, and must abide in force while God shall con- 
 tinue to be good. And as God is unchangeably good, this precept 
 must abide for ever. He would sanction injustice, if he should 
 repeal a law which requires that men render unto God the things 
 that are God's. An act like this would create alarm in heaven, 
 and send a premonition of ruin into every world that has continued 
 loyal. 
 
 Moreover, an act that should release intelligent creatures from 
 loving supremely their Creator, would ruin the very beings thus 
 released. Hence sang the Christian Poet : 
 
 " From thee departing, they are lost, and rove 
 At random, without honor, hope, or peace." 
 
 This has ever been, and must continue to be, the law of hell, of 
 earth, of heaven, and of all other worlds. Nothing that God has 
 made has sufficient greatness and grandeur, to become our supreme 
 object of regard 
 
 " Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor; 
 And with thee rich, take what .thou wilt away." 
 
 The capacity that God has given us, must be gratified, or we are 
 miserable; and if it be gratified, God is loved according to the 
 commandment. 
 
 Now a gospel that should set aside a law like this, would prove 
 
CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 301 
 
 a miserable expedient for a revolted world, as it would rob God 
 of his deserved honors, and man of his highest happiness. How 
 impossible that God should have given us such a gospel ! He 
 never has, and never will, unless he could wish to see us all mis- 
 erable. To be restored, from inordinate attachment to the crea- 
 ture, to supreme love to God, is salvation itself j and how can this 
 be effected by annulling the precept that enjoins this very change 1 
 And we assert, 
 
 2. That the second great commandment of the law cannot be repealed. 
 " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." This, like the other, 
 carries on the very face of it its claim to perpetuity. The first 
 commandment was intended to bind the creation to its Maker, the 
 second to bind creatures to each other. Neither of these ligatures 
 can be sundered, and creatures be happy. To love our fellow 
 men, is to make them subservient to our enjoyment : for to love is 
 usually a delightful exercise. If God had commanded us to hate 
 our neighbor, he had subjected us to the necessity of disobeying 
 him, or of being lastingly unhappy. In proof of this position, I 
 have only to refer you to facts. Ask the man of passion, who 
 daily goes home enraged at some one of his fellow men, there to 
 study revenge, whether to hate makes him happy. Or let my 
 readers call to mind some of those seasons, when they were en- 
 listed in some obstinate quarrel, and when for whole days, and 
 perhaps for weeks, passion rested in their bosom, and tell me if 
 you were not unhappy 1 Then, in commanding men to love one 
 another, God has simply forbidden them to be unhappy has given 
 them leave to be happy. 
 
 And the measure of our love, as here given, what could be more 
 equitable. My neighbor is a sensitive being like myself; is capa- 
 ble of equal happiness ; and that happiness worth as much to him, 
 as mine to me. Hence God must value his blessedness, as much 
 as mine : and it is my duty to feel as God does. Hence, if God 
 should repeal this law, it would be consenting that men should do 
 wrong, have feelings at variance with his, and love happiness 
 simply because it is theirs. 
 
 To repeal this law would be to license selfishness ; the very pas- 
 sion which has filled this unhappy world, and kept it full of mise- 
 ry. If men are not obligated to love each other as themselves, then 
 is there no standard by which their affection can be measured, and 
 they are at liberty to hate and devour one another. If the gospel 
 has set aside this law, then all the outrages which men have com- 
 mitted, one upon another, have been licensed depredations : for 
 
302 THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL 
 
 God has disapproved only of what was a violation of his law. If 
 he has anulled the precept that required men to love, he has virtu- 
 ally given them liberty to hate, and has sanctioned a total disre- 
 gard of the second great commandment of the law. But nothing 
 like this is true. The law stjll makes on fallen creatures "a de- 
 mand as large as upon the first pair in their innocence, and con- 
 tinues to press its obligations after they are lost. The miseries of 
 hell would be mitigated, if this law could cease to be binding. The 
 lost might then hate and torment each other, without increasing 
 their guilt. 
 
 3. The spirit of the law and the gospel is the same. The spirit of 
 the law, as we have seen, is love ; and the same is true of the gos- 
 pel. In the inventory given us of the fruits of the Spirit, the first 
 named is love. This is the bond of union in heaven, and all who 
 are verging toward heaven, cultivate love, as the fundamental 
 principle of their piety. When we read, " If any man love the 
 world, the love of the Father is not in him," we have in other 
 language, the whole spirit of the first commandment, " Thou shalt. 
 have no other gods before me." And when we read, " Whatso- 
 ever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them :" 
 do we not also read, " For this is the law and the prophets." Here 
 the Lord Jesus Christ himself identifies the two, as if to settle the 
 point for ever, that he came to expound and enforce the very pre- 
 cepts of the law of Sinai. And the man must be grossly ig- 
 norant of the New Testament, who does not recognize it, as the 
 very law of the ten commandments, broken down to the relation- 
 ships, and the exigencies of human life. In both Testaments we 
 have the same divine character, the same code of doctrines, the 
 same Christian graces, the same social duties, and the same pure 
 and holy religion. 
 
 When the gospel offers a pardon, to those who have violated the 
 law, 'care is taken that the law be fulfilled and honored. The law 
 is not censured, nor the sinner violently wrested from its curse. A 
 substitute is furnished, on which the curse may light ; a substitute 
 who had himself perfectly obeyed the law, who loved it, held it in 
 high and holy respect, and died because he would not see it dis- 
 honored. Had it been a bad law, hastily conceived, and impru- 
 dently promulgated, Christ would not have borne its curse. If too 
 severe, he would have recalled its edicts, and would have mitigated 
 its sanctions, if cruel. It was his first concern to secure the 
 honors of the Godhead, and to do this he must sustain the law ; 
 his second to redeem the wretch who had broken it, and was con- 
 demned. 
 
CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 303 
 
 The Savior had no more compassion than the Father ; loved 
 justice, truth, and holiness no less ; hated sin as much, and hated 
 the sinner as much, and was as unwilling as the Father, that a jot 
 or a tittle of the law should fail. He did not engross in himself 
 all the benevolence of the Godhead j and was not a partisan with 
 the sinner against the law. He did not come to make war with 
 the Law-giver^ but with sin ; not to vindicate the rights of the 
 condemned, and wrest them from the punishment to which some 
 ancient and cruel decree had exposed them ; but to cover them 
 with his body and his life, from the miseries they deserved to en- 
 dure. Thus the law and the gospel have both the same spirit, and 
 press the same design ; to honor God, and make his creatures 
 happy. 
 
 4u The gospel was a useless device, but on the supposition that the 
 law is good, and must be supported. Nothing can be more absurd 
 than a gospel designed to free men from the curse of the law, 
 while that law is already repealed, and has ceased to be binding. 
 Hence the Lord Jesus Christ, lest men should make a mistake on 
 this subject, declared very early in his ministry, that he came not 
 to destroy the law, but to fulfil it. Indeed the very hypothesis on 
 which the gospel is built, is, that the law is good, its precepts right, 
 and its penalties binding. If otherwise, the law should have been 
 repealed without a Savior. As soon as it was discovered that the 
 law was not adapted to our circumstances, was too strict or too 
 severe, instead of subjecting Christ to the pains of the .cross, to 
 relieve the culprit, he should have been pardoned without an atone- 
 ment. Probably those who deny an atonement, are brought to 
 this erroneous result, by some indefinite conception, that the law 
 is repealed, to provide the way for manV recovery. 
 
 Our reason tells us that there should have been no substitution, 
 r'or those who had broken a bad law, or a law which for any rea- 
 sons whatever it was not wise to sustain. If not wise to execute 
 it, in the last extremity, upon the offender himself, then assuredly, 
 not merely unwise, but monstrous, to punish the substitute. There 
 should have been proclaimed immediately a free and full pardon. 
 There was the greatest possible cruelty in the transactions of the 
 cross, but on the supposition that the law is too good to be set 
 aside, even if the population of a world must perish to do it honor. 
 
 5. Ji gospel that shall set aside the law will defeat its own design. 
 Tell the sinner, in the same message in which you offer him a 
 Savior, that the law he has broken, is repealed ; or has come into 
 disrepute, and its curse less to be feared than formerly, and he will 
 
304? THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL 
 
 answer, Then I have no need of a Savior. If my Sovereign is 
 convinced, as I long have been, that the law is too rigid, he will 
 not punish its violations ; if its penalties are unjust, he will not ex- 
 ecute them. I reject your offered Redeemer, and approach boldly 
 to the throne, to demand my acquittal. It is mocking me to talk 
 of an atonement, while I have done only right, in opposing a cruel 
 and oppressive legislation. 
 
 Thus the advocates of a gospel, built on the ruins of the law 
 soon as they make the secret known, that the law has perished, 
 furnish the sinner a motive for rejecting the gospel they offer. 
 Thus they labor in vain and spend their strength for naught. They 
 may urge the overtures of their gospel, till they have become gray in 
 the service, and their hearers will remain unchanged and unreformed. 
 The only consistent course is, to justify wholly the law, or offer no 
 Redeemer. We must make man the diseased, and suffering, and dy- 
 ing creature, that the Book of God describes him to be, or we 
 need offer him no physician; must make him blind, or offer him 
 no eye-salve ; make him guilty and condemned, or offer him no 
 pardon ; make him polluted, or offer him no cleansing ; make him 
 an exile, a captive, and a slave, or offer him no redemption. The 
 estimation in which we hold the law, will decide, whether we have 
 any success in offering sinners the gospel. 
 
 6. The gospel is most glorious when the law is fully sustained. The 
 glory and the grace of the gospel, must, in the very nature of the 
 case, be exactly commensurate, to the claims and the curses of the 
 law.- The one must contain a wo as broad as the blessedness im- 
 plied in the other ; must present a ruin as wide and desperate, as 
 the cure presented in the other ; must frown as implacably, as the 
 other smiles complacently. When we can thus honor the law, and 
 justify the Law-giver, and defend, without misgiving, the most 
 punctilious execution of every threatening that has issued from the 
 lips of the Eternal ; then it is that we can equally elevate the glo- 
 rious gospel'of the blessed God : which else becomes as worthless 
 as the Shaster or the Koran. The deeper and the darker the pit 
 into which I had sunk, the mightier that arm that could lift me out. 
 The full glories of Calvary, have never been seen, but by the same 
 eye, that has descried ineffable beauty in the divine legislation. 
 The gospel will be shorn of its last beam, when it shall be made to 
 eclipse the splendor of the law. It is only the dead in sin that 
 need the offer of life, the condemned that need a pardon. Christ 
 is the Repairer of the breach ; make the breach wide, and you 
 make the Repairer illustrious. Carry not the fertilizing influence 
 
CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 305 
 
 of the gospel, but into the very territory ; where the curse of a 
 good law violated has spread a boundless desolation. There its 
 healing waters will be welcome, an Eden will blossom under your 
 feet, and the harvest of many years, repay your toil and make glad* 
 your heart. May the blessed God put honor upon his own insti- 
 tutions. 
 
 In bringing my remarks to a close, let me say, that the law can- 
 not go into disuse. It expresses exactly the mind of God, and 
 must be the rule of duty to his obedient subjects for ever. And 
 when broken, as it has been in this unhappy world, its curse must 
 fall, and remain upon the head of the transgressor, till he flies for 
 refuge to lay hold on the hope set before him in the gospel. Till 
 then he lies condemned, just as if a Savior had not died ; with this 
 difference, that his condemnation if he perish will be aggravated 
 by his having been offered redemption. He might have had life 
 but would not, unless on such condition, that his transgressions 
 might be justified. I close with 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. How tremendous the ruin of sinners, who after all this, shall 
 fall under the condemning sentence of the divine law. God we 
 see will not set his law aside. He would give his own well-belov- 
 ed Son, to expire on the ragged nails, to save those who had brok- 
 en the law, and incurred its penalty, rather than give his foes oc- 
 casion to say, that he had repealed it. "If these things were 
 done in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry 1" If God 
 appeared so inflexibly holy, on Calvary, where he drew his sword 
 upon the sinner's substitute, how terrible the indignation that he 
 will display in hell. 0, is there a man, so hardened and so daring, 
 that he would venture to pass through life, and go on to the judg- 
 ment, with the curse of the violated law resting on him ! When 
 he shall see that Redeemer, who saved others, but in whose blood 
 he would not take sanctuary, coming in the clouds of heaven, with 
 power and great glory, will he not regret, that he had not been in- 
 terested in his atonement 1 And when his destiny shall issue from 
 that Savior's lips, and he goes to make his bed in hell, will he not 
 learn, what now he is so unwilling to know, that " The law is holy, 
 and the commandment holy, and just, and goodl" 
 
 The torments of the lost, will be an abiding testimony of God's 
 
 regard to his law. And those who shall have escaped to heaven, 
 
 when they shall " look upon the carcases of the men that have 
 
 transgressed," will be feeling more and more strongly for ever, 
 
 39 
 
 ' 
 
306 THE LAW AND THE GOSPEL 
 
 how great are their obligations to the Savior, for redeeming them 
 from the curse of a law, so fearfully holy. And who, that places 
 any value upon his soul, and believes that God will thus jealously 
 guard the honor of his law, and has not already made him incorri- 
 gibly angry, will delay an hour in securing an interest in that 
 Savior, who bore the curse for us. O, my friend, haste your es- 
 cape, as you would at midnight from your burning house, as you 
 would from the jaws of a ravening lion, as you would from the ter- 
 rors of a volcanic eruption, as you would from the fire that can 
 never b'e quenched, and the worm that shall not die. 
 
 2. The subject will, I hope, prepare us to contemplate with hor- 
 ror, the condition of those congregations, who have selected for 
 themselves a ministry, that builds its instructions on the ruins of 
 the divine law. Would to God that I were mistaken, in supposing 
 such a case to exist. But when I hear, from lips that profess to 
 have been touched with a coal from off the altar, that man is quite 
 an upright being, has committed a few errors only, and these all 
 venial, not sufficient to condemn him ; that he needs no atonement, 
 nor Savior but to teach him, and be his pattern, and this Savior 
 not divine : When I hear of sentiments like these from the pulpit, 
 I fear there is a controversy with the law of God, and that it is 
 meant to be understood, that he has relinquished his demand upon 
 the sinner, of a stricter obedience, than he is disposed to yield. 
 
 Thus by putting aside the law, as we suppose is done in the out- 
 set, and hewing down the whole system to accommodate it to this 
 fatal error, the whole, though somewhat consistent with itself, is 
 rotten and deceptive. Thus the sinner is lulled, and soothed, and 
 when asleep, is kept slumbering till he is lost. He never has any 
 proper sense of his sins, nor respect for the violated law, nor re- 
 gard for the holiness, and justice, and truth of God. He never be- 
 comes humble, nor fears God, nor embraces the Savior, nor quits 
 his sins. The gospel he hears is like the Siren's song, that lures 
 but to destroy. It keeps men stupid till it is too late to be anxious 
 to any profit. 
 
 O, ye lost and ruined congregations ! if my voice might reach 
 you, I would tell you to look well to the ministry you attend. 
 While it pretends to offer you life, it may destroy you. If you 
 find it aiming to lessen the number, and diminish the aggravations 
 of your sins, you ought to suspect it. You never will betake your- 
 self to the Lord Jesus Christ, as your precious and only Savior, till 
 the commandment come home to your bosom, high and imperious 
 in its claims ; holy, and just, and good, in all it requires, and in all 
 
 ' 
 
CONJOINTLY SUSTAINED. 307 
 
 it threatens. In the sense of the apostle, sin must revive and we 
 die, else there can be no hope that we shall be made alive in 
 Christ Jesus. The multitudes who have gone to heaven, and the 
 whole army of believers who are bound thither, know the period 
 when they felt themselves justly exposed to eternal death. The 
 gospel that pretends to find you quite whole and happy, needing 
 only a little instruction, and perhaps some reformation, and aims 
 not to alarm and distress you, you may rest assured is a lie, and 
 not the truth ; it comes from hell, and not from heaven ; and if em- 
 braced, will conduct you back with it to the recesses of perdition. 
 
SERMON XXVI. 
 
 IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 
 
 ROMANS III. 18. 
 
 There is no fear of God before their eyee. 
 
 THE text gives us man's native character. Stfch he is till the 
 Spirit of God has sanctified him. The criticism {hat would apply 
 this whole passage to the people only who lived before the flood, 
 or to a very few of the baser sort of sinners, is a contrivance of 
 infidelity, and is extensively employed, in the present day, to be- 
 tray and ruin souls. The man who is willing to shape his creed 
 by the Divine record, is entirely satisfied, when he reads the pas- 
 sages in the Old Testament which are here quoted ; but when he 
 finds them referred to by an inspired apostle, and by him applied 
 to the whole human family, Jews and Gentiles, no shadow of doubt 
 remains. He is now content to lie down under the humiliating 
 charge they bring, and is ashamed and confounded before the 
 great Searcher of hearts. He who has become a new creature 
 will consent that " God be true, though every man a liar." 
 
 The fear of the Lord is a gracious affection, belonging not to 
 the slave but to the son, and is the genuine fruit of a new heart, 
 the beginning of wisdom. Hence where this affection is not, there 
 are no gracious affections. And if this be true, and the text ap- 
 plies to all men in their unsanctified state, then it plainly teaches 
 us, that in unregenerate men there is no moral excellence. 
 
 My object at this time will be, not so much to prove the doc- 
 trine, as to account for its having been controverted, and offer 
 some reasons for esteeming it a highly important doctrine. 
 
 I. Many have mistaken the native character of man, from having 
 seen him capable of affections and deeds that are praiseworthy. It is 
 not man's prerogative to judge the heart ; hence, if the tendency 
 of an action is to that which is good, it is imputed to the very 
 motive that ought to have produced it. If the deed has a fair ex- 
 terior, it is considered ungenerous not to impute it to correct prin- 
 ciple. Men judge, however, on the maxim, that what is highly 
 
IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 309 
 
 esteemed among men, cannot be abomination in the sight of God. 
 Hence they dress up human nature in garbs of innocence ; and 
 conceive it impossible that there should be, under so much that is 
 fair and good in conduct, an evil heart of unbelief. 
 
 They find men capable of kind, and generous, and honorable 
 sentiments. They can be true, and trusty, and faithful, and affec- 
 tionate ; and they triumphantly ask, How can all this be, when 
 there is no love of God in the heart ! They see discharged, and 
 sometimes quite honorably, the offices of parent, husband, brother 
 and child, and all the other domestic and social relations, and 
 impute it all, though to be accounted for on other principles, to 
 native moral excellence. Hence they are precipitated into a con- 
 troversy with that plain and humbling testimony of heaven, that 
 " The carnal mind is enmity against God, is not subject to his 
 law, nor indeed can be." 
 
 Why will not men believe, what the scriptures so plainly teach, 
 that the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked ; 
 and from this truth infer, that very different motives may lead to 
 the same deeds 1 We often see that an amiable disposition, a 
 tameness and mildness, such as distinguish the lamb from the 
 wolf, and the vulture from the dove and that results in the exer- 
 cise of many an amiable affection, and the doing of many a kind 
 action may consist witli the practice of sin, the habit of a daily 
 violation of the divine law, a prompt rejection of all the overtures 
 of the gospel, and an inveterate disgust for the duties of a cordial 
 and secret piety. We have recognized, where there was all the 
 instinctive amiableness that is ever claimed, the existence of a 
 polished and fashionable infidelity ; have marked offence taken, at 
 the distinguishing doctrines of revelation, at the scruples of a well 
 disciplined conscience, at the frequency and fervency of devotional 
 exercises, and the elevated views and affections of the revived and 
 happy believers. Still there were high pretensions to kindness, 
 rectitude, generosity, and even piety. There was not a conscious- 
 ness of the deep-rooted enmity of the heart to whatever is holy 
 and heavenly. Men have wept under the sound of the gospel, and 
 seemed the veriest converts to the truths under discussion, the 
 affections enforced, and the duties urged, and ere they have passed 
 the threshold of the sanctuary, have vented their spleen against 
 the man, who reached their sensibilities, and drew from them, in 
 an unguarded hour, their reluctant testimony to the gospel he 
 announced. 
 
 We do not deny, that there has been seen in men not sanctified, 
 
310 IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 
 
 much that it would be disgraceful not to admire, and envious not 
 to praise, and evil not to imitate ; and still we may have had in- 
 dubitable evidence, that in the very same bosom- there beat a 
 heart hostile to God, and holiness, and heaven. Not certainly 
 will God, who compares the temper of the heart with his law, 
 approve always the very deeds that men have praised, or the men 
 who may have stood immeasurably high in human estimation. 
 
 On this point the truth must not be concealed. We cannot say 
 to sinners, that if they please man, God will assuredly be pleased j 
 that if they speak kindly to man, and do deeds of mercy to him, 
 the Eternal will say, " Ye have done it unto me." There is no 
 such assurance given in the record. And the time, or rather the 
 eternity, will be here so soon, when their whole character must be 
 known, when they must stand before the omniscient God, and all 
 their heart be opened, and their whole life be read ; that to deceive 
 them, and cry peace, peace, when there is no peace, would be as 
 cruel as death. 
 
 There is neither the necessity nor the wish to deny, that unsanc- 
 tified men have exhibited many natural excellences of character. 
 On this point I know not that there will be at last any controversy 
 between God and them. Our Savior looked at the young man in 
 the gospel, and loved him, while yet he was unquestionably in the 
 gall of bitterness and under the bonds of iniquity. We yield to 
 men traits of character that are amiable, and useful, and endearing, 
 and wish most sincerely that there need be no reserve in our 
 praise. But while they have been kind, and neighborly, and piti- 
 ful, and even generous to their fellows, they have robbed God. 
 They have wept at the tale of distress, and hastened to succor the 
 perishing, and bled in sympathy over the diseased and the dying, 
 but have never shed a tear at the cross. They have believed man, 
 and confided in him, and spoken truth to him, and have well 
 earned his confidence and affection, but they have practically made 
 God a liar. They have never fully credited either his threaten- 
 ings or his promises, nor thought it necessary to take sanctuary 
 in his Son. There has not been a moment in their whole life, 
 take the time when their conscience was the most tender, and 
 their sensibilities the most awakened, and their deportment the 
 most religious, and their hopes of heaven the most profound ; 
 when some other object beside God, had not the high and distinct 
 ascendency in their affections. While they could treat men 
 mildly, and be rebuked without wrath, and even endure Divine 
 judgments without the appearance of rebellion ; they could still 
 
IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS, 311 
 
 brow-beat all the anathemas of the law, and parry every thrust of 
 the gospel, and live on, without reflection, and without prayer, 
 and without repentance, and without God in the world. They 
 still cared not for all the melting entreaties of divine mercy. God 
 was not in all their thoughts, nor his religion in their lips, nor his 
 throne in their hearts, nor his will controlled them ; while, as the 
 friends of the poor, the patrons of moral virtue, and the benefac- 
 tors of the world, they were illustrious, and were promised in 
 human eulogy a luminous and happy immortality. 
 
 Thus has the human character, all deformity as God views it, 
 been exhibited as sound and^good. Distinctions have not always 
 been made, between what is nature, and what is grace; what is 
 mere instinct, and what is holiness. The multitudes of the ungodly 
 have been blessed and dismissed, doubting whether their charac- 
 ter was at all deficient, or they needed to be born again ; and high 
 in the hope that a slight reform, and a little care, would soon pre- 
 pare them to stand accepted of God. Even men who have worn 
 noted marks of the apostacy, the covetous, the proud, the vain, and 
 the worldly, have retired with a smile, to enjoy their good opinion 
 of themselves and feed quietly, and sleep sweetly, while the wrath 
 of God abode upon them. They have gone to their farms and 
 their merchandize, to love and pursue supremely the cares of the 
 life that now is, or bury themselves in scenes of dissipation and 
 folly, not suspecting but that all was well, and all safe, till either 
 the Spirit of God awakened them, or they sunk to a hopeless per- 
 dition : or they live still, and are filling up the measure of their 
 iniquity, and are preparing for a deeper despair, than if they had 
 perished far sooner. And they must thus perish, it seems, because 
 they are amiable, while publicans and harlots, who have no such 
 virtues to screen them from conviction, believe in the Savior, and 
 live for ever ! 
 
 II. Men have been led to controvert thi* doctrine because they 
 are not conscious of the wrong motives by which they are actuated. 
 Through the workings of a deceitful heart, ignorance of the scrip- 
 tures, and sometimes by the aid of a heterodox ministry, men 
 have totally mistaken their whole moral character. They are rich 
 and increased in goods, and have need of nothing ; and know not 
 that they are wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
 naked. What the prophet says of the idol-maker, is more or less 
 true of all unregenerate men in all ages, " A deceived heart hath 
 turned him aside, that he cannot deliver his soul, nor say, Is there 
 
312 IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 
 
 not a lie in my right hand ?." Hazael could not believe that he de- 
 served the character which the prophet gave him, " Is thy servant 
 a dog that he should do this great thing 1" And Jehu, when he 
 cut off the house of Ahab, and destroyed the worshippers of Baal, 
 would have felt himself abused, to be told that he was actuated by 
 the love of praise. When the rulers of the Jews were charged 
 with murdering the Lord of life and glory, though they had done 
 this very deed, thought Peter a slanderer, in his attempt to bring 
 this blood upon them. So Saul of Tarsus supposed he was doing 
 God service, while persecuting to death the disciples of the Lord 
 Jesus. Thus may men act from the very worst of motives, and 
 yet suppose them the very best. They do not consider it impor- 
 tant to know what their designs are, and have not that familiarity 
 with their hearts that would render it easy to discover. And thus 
 they are led to controvert the truth, and quarrel with God, his 
 word, and his ministers, who all give them the very character they 
 have. 
 
 III. The doctrine of the text is often converted to support schemes 
 with which this sentiment would not compare. The sinner's entire 
 depravity, is a fundamental doctrine, on which there can be built 
 only one, and that the gospel system. Make this doctrine true, and 
 it sweeps away, as with the besom of destruction, every creed but 
 one from the face of the world. It settles the question, that God 
 may righteously execute his law upon all unregenerate men ; that 
 "by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified;" that 
 the doings of unregenerate men are unholy ; that even repentance 
 will not take away the curse that has lit, and must rest, upon the 
 man who has not continued in all the things written in the book of 
 the law to do them ; that an atonement, such as God has provided, 
 through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all, is the 
 only medium through which we can purge our consciences from 
 dead works to serve \he living God. It farther decides the ques- 
 tion, that men will not seek after God ; that he must be found of 
 them that sought him not, must give repentance unto life, must 
 take away the hearj; of stone and give a heart of flesh ; that in the 
 regenerate he must work, to will and to do of his own good pleasure ; 
 and finally, that he must be an Almighty Savior, who could redeem 
 beings so lost, and put them back again into the favor of a justly 
 offended God. 
 
 Thus it is only one scheme of truths that this doctrine will sup- 
 port ; the faith once delivered to the saints. If men depart from 
 
IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 313 
 
 the truth, as we are told they shall in these last days, giving heed 
 to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils, they must thus come 
 into close arid comfortless contact with a doctrine, which, if true, 
 gives the lie to all their false and delusive schemes. Hence we 
 wonder not that " the foe of God and man, issuing from his dark 
 den," has here displayed, in every age of Zion's conflict, his migh- 
 tiest chieftainship. Here must be the edge of battle, in every 
 conflict between the gospel and the systems invented by men ; 
 between the friends and the foes of truth. This is the fortress 
 that has been taken and retaken ten thousand times, where has 
 been tried the prowess of God's people, and his enemies j where 
 has been displayed the power of God, and been put to the test the 
 endurance of his elect, in all the ages that have gone by. 
 
 IV. This doctrine has been controverted through the pride, of the 
 human heart. Depravity is a most degrading doctrine, and entire de- 
 pravity intolerable, till the heart has been humbled by the grace 
 of God. There is in apostate men great pride of character. We 
 would all be considered friendly to what is good and great, and 
 such is God, even in the profession of the most depraved ; such is 
 his law, and such his government. With the promptness with 
 which we fly the touch of fire, does pride resist imputation. Hence 
 inquires the unregenerate man, Would you deny me the credit of 
 loving my Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor 1 Do I never obey 
 his law, or do a deed from motives that please him 1 And is there, 
 among my noblest actions of kindness to men, nothing that 
 amounts to love ! In my gladness for the good things that God 
 bestows, is there not a shred of gratitude 1 in my admiration of 
 his perfections and his works, no love 1 in my belief of his word, 
 no faith 1 in my expectation of heaven, no hope 1 in my sorrow 
 for sin, no repentance 1 in my endurance of adverse events, no 
 submission 1 and in my gentleness and condescension, no humili- 
 ty 1. are my prayers sin and my sacrifices abomination 1 do I 
 thus, on all occasions, break the first and great commandment of 
 the law 1 and on all occasions the second also 1 in all my noble 
 generosity, is there no benevolence 1 in my soft deportment, no 
 meekness 1 and in my. tears for the miserable, no pious sympathy 1 
 must every deed I do have the same moral deformity 1 and God 
 hate me, and his law condemn me, when I follow the kindest dic- 
 tates of that nature he has given me 1 
 
 Thus men feel, that if this doctrine be true, it goes to defame 
 and ruin their character. It makes them go astray soon as they 
 40 
 
314 IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 
 
 are born, speaking lies. It makes their righteousness as filthy 
 rags. When they have washed themselves in snow-water, and 
 made their hands never so clean, this doctrine, with ruthless hand, 
 plunges them into the ditch, and their own clothes abhor them. 
 When they industriously provide for their household, they are ac- 
 cused of loving the world, while the love of the Father is not 
 in them. When they would go to the sanctuary, and pay their 
 vows, there they hear from heaven, " What hast thou to do to de- 
 clare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take my covenant in thy 
 mouth !" 
 
 Thus, at every point, this doctrine comes to mar their reputa- 
 tion, and make them hypocrites, and cover them with shame and 
 blushing. Hence the Jehovah, who will give men this character, 
 may reign in other hearts ; and the Bible, that will teach this doc- 
 trine, may lie neglected ; and the ministry that will publish it, may 
 starve : and the cringing multitude, who will believe it, may herd 
 together, and together sink into the contempt they covet. Thus 
 God is treated, and thus his word, and thus his ministers, and thus 
 his people, because they maintain a doctrine, the sinner's disgust 
 at which, establishes beyond the possibility of doubt, or the dan- 
 ger of mistake. It so degrades the character of men, that they 
 will not believe it, 'if they perish contradicting it. 
 
 I could offer other reasons, why this doctrine has been so fre- 
 quently assailed, but shall proceed to offer some reasons for esteem- 
 ing it a very important doctrine. 
 
 1. The fact, that it is plainly revealed, testifies to its importance. 
 God would not have cumbered his word with a doctrine of no va- 
 lue. If we find it there who will venture to deny its importance I 
 and if not there, how does it happen, that those are its warmest ad- 
 vocates, who are most familiar with the Bible, and most ready to 
 regard its dictates 1 The context contains a very dark review of 
 man's native character : and it would be infidelity to suppose it too 
 highly colored. " There is none righteous, no not one : There is 
 none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. 
 They are all gone out of the way, they are together become un- 
 profitable ; there is none that doeth good, no, not one. Their 
 throat is an open sepulchre ; with their tongues they have used 
 deceit ; the poison of asps is under their lips : Whose mouth is 
 full of cursing and bitterness. Their feet are swift to shed blood. 
 Destruction and misery are in their ways : And the way of peace 
 nave they not known. There is no fear of God before their eyes." 
 Now we fearlessly assert, that this is given as the native character 
 
IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 315 
 
 of Jews and Gentiles, by one whom the Holy Ghost inspired, and 
 who could not mistake the truth. Believe the last clause only, 
 and tell me if in men, who have " no fear of God before their 
 eyes," there is any holiness 1 " The carnal mind is enmity against 
 God, for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can 
 be." Here again Christian honesty will read the same doctrine. 
 And the same in this text, " The heart of the sons of men is full 
 of evil." And in this, " The heart is deceitful above all things, 
 and desperately wicked." And that none may escape, it reads ; 
 " As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man :" 
 And thus the uniform testimony of Scripture. There would be no 
 end in quoting the Scriptures on this important point, till I had re- 
 ferred you to almost the whole Bible. And a doctrine about which 
 God will say so much, must be, in his estimation, and should be in 
 ours, of high importance. 
 
 2. The doctrine of the text is esteemed important, as it is one of 
 the first truths, used by the Spirit of GOG?, in awakening and sanctify- 
 ing sinners. Till men see their depravity, they will not approve 
 of the law that condemns them. They will be wondering, if, in- 
 deed, they think at all, why God threatens them, and be blaming 
 the law as too rigid in its requirements, and cruel in its penalties. 
 Now there is no hope of a sinner, while he stands in this posture ; 
 and nothing will move him from it, but a conviction of his lost and 
 ruined state. Hide from him the character of his heart, and you 
 seal him up to everlasting stupidity. You can arouse him to no 
 apprehensions of danger, for under the government of a good God 
 none are in danger but sinners. And there will of course be no re- 
 pentance. A thoughtless sinner sees nothing to repent of, nor any 
 reason why he should repent, and the man who knows nothing of 
 his heart will not be thoughtful. The commandment never comes 
 home to his conscience. If he has hopes of heaven, it will be on 
 the ground of his own self-righteousness. Thus the Savior will be 
 to him as a root out of a dry ground, without form or comeliness, 
 and the work of grace can never be begun. Thus is the sinner, 
 who is kept ignorant of his heart, sealed up to the judgment, and 
 goes on as the ox to the slaughter, and the fool to the correction 
 of the stocks. The Spirit of God will sanctify only through the 
 truth, and the entire depravity of the heart is a first truth, without 
 a knowledge of which no sinner was ever yet fitted for the king- 
 dom of God. 
 
 A gospel, then, if we must so call it, that hides from men the de- 
 formity of their moral character, betrays and ruins them. It says 
 
316 IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 
 
 to the wicked, that it shall be well with them, and thus cradles 
 their fears to sleep, till their period of mercy is past ; and proves, 
 ultimately, the greatest calamity that can befall them. It closes 
 upon them the portals of eternal life, and keeps them dreaming, 
 and fearless, till they open their eyes in hell. But when they at 
 last make the discovery, perhaps on the bed of death, or it may be 
 not till life has gone out, how will they execrate the recollection 
 of such a gospel. It will come up to the mind as does the tem- 
 pest, that wrecked all their hopes upon the relentless reef; or the 
 fire that forced them to make a midnight retreat from the place 
 that had been long their safe and happy home. 
 
 The ministers of Christ would love to preach a smoother gospel, 
 if men could only be safe under it. It would be pleasant to have 
 to do only with the invitations, and the promises, and the hopes of 
 the gospel. They had far rather remind the believer of the joys 
 to come, than admonish the unbeliever of the judgment, the outer 
 darkness, and the gnawing worm. They could have far more 
 pleasure in describing the graces of the Spirit, than in portraying 
 the deformities of the unsanctified heart. 
 
 But the grand object of the gospel ministry is to save souls, and 
 this object is not gained, unless men are taught, as the very first 
 lesson of that ministry, that they are lost. Hence to suppress this 
 truth, would be to neutralize at once the whole effect of this min- 
 istry. Whatever we may wish, we can be the ministers of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ to a ruined world, but on this one condition, 
 that the alienation of our world from God hold the place of a first 
 truth in every effort of our ministry. The gospel has absolutely 
 no meaning, and can bft of no use, but to the lost and the condemned. 
 3. The doctrine of the text is esteemed important, as it lies at 
 the foundation of the whole gospel scheme. The Lord Jesus Christ 
 came into our world, to seek and to save them that are lost, and 
 the whole plan of salvation is so interwoven with this fact, as, to 
 be unintelligible without it. What means the covenant of redemp- 
 tion, but in connection with the fact that we are captives and 
 slaves, and need to be redeemed 1 what is there intelligible in the 
 atonement, but that we owe ten thousand talents, and have nothing 
 to pay 1 why urged to repent, but that we are in love with sin, and 
 must otherwise perish 1 why believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, but 
 that we need a better righteousness than our own to shelter us 
 from the wrath to come 1 why make to ourselves a new heart, but 
 that we have by nature evil hearts of unbelief inclining us to de- 
 part from the living God 1 
 
IMPENITENT MEN DESTITUTE OF HOLINESS. 317 
 
 And let me ask, why all the threatenings of the gospel, but that 
 it was written for the use of a disobedient and gainsaying people 1 
 why on every page does there meet us some anathema, but that it 
 was intended for those who love not our Lord Jesus Christ 1 why 
 has death passed upon all men, but that all have sinned 1 why a 
 judgmenf and a place of torment, but that those who have carried 
 their entire depravity with them into the coming world, may be 
 distinguished, and may go to their own place. 
 
 FINALLY It is matter of doubt whether an honest man, acquaint- 
 ed with the Bible, and willing to collect his creed from it, will find 
 it possible to exclude the doctrine of the text from a fundamental 
 place in its structure. What doctrine can he preach, if he denies 
 it 1 what precept enforce 1 what threatening announce 1 what pro- 
 mise apply 1 We need no gospel if this doctrine is not true, and 
 we have none. " Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." 
 
 Will the great God defend his own truth, and bless every effort 
 for its vindication, and sanctify his people through its influence, and 
 speedily let it cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. Will 
 he bring the multitudes of the ungodly to know, that they are in 
 the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity, and persuade 
 them to fly for refuge, to lay hold of the hope set before them in 
 the gospel. 
 
SERMON XXVII. 
 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 JOHN XVII. 3. 
 
 This is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God. 
 
 IN the report of that gospel, which shall deal honestly with dy- 
 ing men, it is of the first importance that there be exhibited the 
 true character of God. As men are to be sanctified through the 
 truth, it will be confessed, that no truth can be of higher import - 
 v ance, than that which relates to the being and attributes of Jeho- 
 vah. Unless on this point there is made a full and clear exposure 
 of the truth, our religion may be so defective, as to neither profit 
 us in this life, nor save us in the life to come. Under the very 
 names that belong to the true God, we may worship an idol, and 
 thus give our depravity the shape of the grossest insult. 
 
 We have sometimes listened to a loud and earnest address on 
 the subject of religion, and it professed itself the gospel, in which 
 the character of the true God was industriously concealed. .Men 
 may speak of God, and with much engagedness ; his adorable 
 names may swell every clause, and round every period, and the 
 whole be uttered with a decent and well-bred softness ; and one 
 may suppose himself religiously employed, in hearing the true gos- 
 pel, and be charmed with the changes rung upon the names he 
 has been accustomed to adore ; and still the God proclaimed may 
 not be the blessed Jehovah. There may be a view exhibited that 
 does not belong to the Creator, but to some imaginary god created 
 for the occasion. 
 
 The text would furnish several topics of remark, but I intend to 
 confine myself to owe, To expose some of the false views of Goo?, 
 which are not unfrequently presented to us under the appellation of the 
 gospel ; and thus illustrate the character of that only true God 
 whom to know is eternal life. 
 
 I. There is sometimes an extolling of all the more clement attri- 
 butes of God, as some have presumptuously distinguished, while 
 the severer attributes are unnoticed. The design of these declaim- 
 ers seems to be that our attention be fixed exclusively upon what, 
 
ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 319 
 
 in their estimation, is soft and mild and lovely in God, while his ho- 
 liness^ his justice and his truth ; all in him that can go to make a 
 sinner afraid, or beget conviction and repentance, is industriously 
 concealed. God's compassion for our lost and miserable world, 
 his patience, his endurance, his long-suffering, his promptness to 
 pardon, and total aversion to destroy ; all those features of the 
 Divine mind, that can soothe alarm, are early and industriously 
 developed, as if embracing the whole of God that he himself loves, 
 or man is required to worship and adore ; while the other parts of 
 the divine image are obscured, as one would hide the scars and 
 excrescences that have fortuitously covered more than half his 
 visage. Thus the great luminary of the moral world must be cast 
 into a deep and dark eclipse, that the naked eye of sense may gaze 
 upon his few remaining glories. It is feared, we presume, that 
 were the whole character of God exhibited, sinners would be filled 
 with disgust, and be driven from the bosom of their Sovereign. 
 He must not adhere to the principles of that law he has promul- 
 gated, nor care to vindicate himself from the aspersions that sin- 
 ners have cast upon his character and his government. He must not 
 resolve that mercy and truth meet together ; and that righteous- 
 ness and peace kiss each other. He must cast a smile upon the 
 prodigal, ere/ he shall turn his face or his feet toward his father's 
 house. Thus must the holy and righteous God, before whom 
 devils tremble, melt down into the weak and pitiful parent, or not 
 one of his apostate family shall come back to his bosom and his 
 service. So men would judge. 
 
 But God seems to have had other views, and has revealed his 
 whole character, fearless of the predicted consequences. If there 
 was any danger from a full exposure of his character, why did he 
 not hold himself concealed, or throw into the shade, as men would 
 do for him, those parts of his character that must give offence 1 If 
 that be good policy which I am venturing to expose, God could 
 have directed that neither the works of creation, nor the Bible, 
 should have told us the whole truth respecting himself. He might 
 have suppressed the history of that revolt in heaven, and its re- 
 sults, and told us nothing of hell and the judgment, nor named in 
 his Book those attributes that throw around him such an atmos- 
 phere of darkness and terror. He need not have given us, if he 
 had so pleased, the stories of the deluge, and of Sodom, and of 
 Korah and his company. But God has exposed the whole truth, 
 and that in the very Book which he has directed should be our 
 daily companion. 
 
320 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 If the scheme I oppose be true, I know not how to account for 
 such a Bible as God has put into our hands, just calculated to be- 
 tray a secret that should not have been divulged for worlds. If 
 there belong to God any attributes that were not intended to be 
 made known to sinners till they are reconciled to him ; if they 
 cannot safely be told that he is angry with the wicked every day, 
 has appointed a time and place of judgment, and prepared a deep 
 and dark perdition for the condemned ; if they are to be urged to 
 come to him, expecting to find him all mercy ; then by what alarm- 
 ing oversight have we resolved to put the Bible into the hands of 
 sinners 1 Must the parental character of God so dazzle and fill 
 the eye, as to eclipse the Sovereign, and the Judge, the Abettor 
 of truth, and the Avenger of wrong and of outrage 1 And must we 
 never know the whole character of God, till we have to deal with 
 him in the judgment 1 Can we be sure that the prodigal, after he has 
 been thus decoyed home to his father's house, will be pleased with 
 his father 1 Had he not better know, while away in his land of 
 exile, exactly, the father he must meet, and the father he must 
 love, and stay there till his character is approved ? 
 
 I know not where in the whole Bible we are authorized to ele- 
 vate one attribute of God above another, and term the one mild 
 and the other severe. I know not where men have learned, that 
 there are principles in the Divine nature and government, that to 
 be fully known would subvert the benevolent design of the gospel. 
 If God has thus instructed any of his ministers, and they act by 
 his authority in deciding what may and what may not be developed 
 to the world of the ungodly, I have only to say, " To their own 
 master they stand or fall." 
 
 II. There is perhaps some occasion to fear, that some have gone 
 into the opposite extreme, and have presented exclusively the 
 more forbidding attributes of God, while his grace and mercy have 
 been in this case too much concealed. When Jehovah is exhibited 
 as constituted of entire sovereignty ; as doing his pleasure in the 
 armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth, without 
 the least regard to the happiness and the salvation of his creatures ; 
 as casting after the wayward and the lost, no look of compassion- 
 ate tenderness; can this be a faithful exhibition of the character 
 of God 1 Should it be said, That God is willing to show his 
 wrath, and that he has created intelligent beings on purpose that 
 they might be the vessels of his wrath ; and has communicated 
 positive hardness to their hearts, because they did not render 
 
ONLY O?s 7 E TRUE GOD. 321 
 
 themselves depraved enough for his purpose j and pushed them on 
 to a character, that would be sufficiently desperate for some deed 
 of darkness, which he had resolved they should perpetrate ; 
 would one gather from all this the true character of God 1 I 
 know that I have now presented an extreme case, and sincerely 
 hope that not often, perhaps never, is sovereignty presented quite 
 so bare and forbidding, and the truth pushed to an extremity so 
 cold and cheerless. The objection to such presentations is, that 
 they do not exhibit the whole character of God. He is willing to 
 show his wrath, only wffere his mercy in Jesus Christ has been 
 long and obstinately rejected. He created intelligent beings for 
 his own glory, and will honor himself in their perdition, if by 
 rejecting the Savior, they count themselves unworthy of eternal 
 life. He has hardened their hearts by the very dispensations that 
 should have won them to duty and to God ; has sent them strong 
 delusions that they might believe a lie and be damned, when they 
 did not believe the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness. 
 We must pour into these strong exhibitions of truth, in order to 
 render them the gospel, and make them useful, the whole charac- 
 ter of God. 
 
 How can you hope to persuade rebels to submit themselves to 
 this bare and appalling sovereignty 1 Why must they become 
 reconciled to their Creator, before they may even know that he is 
 a God of mercy, or has it in his heart- to bestow pardons! An 
 apostle has said, " If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to 
 forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 
 I am not without my fears, that on this side of the line of ortho- 
 doxy there has sometimes been presented a character of God, as 
 imperfect, not to say as unsafe, as when only his clemency is seen. 
 And who can say that God would not be as unwilling that one set 
 of his attributes should be exclusively presented, as another 1 
 Under neither have we a full and honest portrait of the only true 
 God, whom to know is eternal life. While the one error will lead 
 unregenerate men to presume that they love their Maker, so under 
 the other it is feared, that many true believers may be kept all 
 their life-time subject to bondage through fear of perdition. The 
 one will make a multitude of happy hypocrites, while the other 
 will conduct to heaven whole churches of trembling, doubting be- 
 lievers. The one will widen the fold, /ill the sheep and the goats 
 can herd together ; the other will contract it till many of the 
 lambs must lie without, and be exposed to storms and beasts of 
 prey ; and finally neither presents correctly the character of God. 
 4.1 
 
322 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 III. We have sometimes presented us a picture of warring attri- 
 butes. Mercy triumphs over justice, and grace is made victorious 
 over truth and righteousness. Under this system, God disapproves 
 the properties of his own nature, and the principles of his own 
 government ; and contrives to defeat and nullify his own decrees. 
 He issued his law, and pronounced it good, and made in it no pro- 
 vision for pardon ; none he could make ; and when the sinner 
 broke that taw, he passed sentence, and threatened its execution. 
 But he is now made to repent of the sternness, and integrity, and 
 purity, that dictated that law, and uttered that sentence, and 
 threatened its execution : and is re-resolved, {hat, come what will 
 of reproach upon his name, and injury to his government and king- 
 dom, the sinner shall not suffer. He built a place of torment, and 
 separated it from heaven by a bottomless gulf, and made it a dark, 
 and dreary, and desolate abode ; but he has since had better and 
 milder views ; has decreed that ultimately the gulf shall become 
 passable, the fires shall go out, and the worm shall die. 
 
 And all this is contrived to save the Divine honor. To let God 
 be what he is, and do what he has said, and carry into execution 
 his own purpose, would, it is believed, so hurt his reputation with 
 the population of the apostacy, that any thing, that can be, must 
 be done to save it. There must rather be suspicion cast over the 
 whole record that would exhibit God as so inflexibly holy, and 
 reproach poured in upon the bigoted multitude that would so 
 rigidly explain the word. The Book of God, plain as it is, may 
 rather mean nothing, and John record falsely, and Paul reason in- 
 conclusively, than to blot so foully and fatally the Divine reputation, 
 To complete the picture, the Son of God is despatched from 
 heaven to take the part of sinners, and shield them from the sword 
 of a devouring justice. He saw, it seems, that the execution of 
 the law would ruin the credit of the court, of heaven, which gave 
 sentence, and hasted down to counteract the decree. What was 
 stern, and unbending, and cruel in the Father, has been softened 
 down in the Son. He covers the rebel with his hand, smiles on 
 him, wipes away his tears!, and prays him to forgive a father's un- 
 just severity. His errand was to stay the rod of justice. He 
 makes no atonement none is necessary asks no change of heart 
 in the culprit, -but a mere reform, as the condition of pardon and 
 life. 
 
 v Thus has the character of God been so exhibited, as to involve 
 heaven in a quarrel, and place the persons of the Godhead at issue, 
 on the question, whether the honors of the broken law deserve to 
 
ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. ' 323 
 
 be repaired, or its Author shall sink into universal disrespect 1 
 What in the mean time shall happen to the divine government in 
 heaven, and in all the worlds that have continued loyal, and have 
 had hitherto the utmost confidence in the unchangeably wise and 
 holy God 1 O, I feel that the ground on which I stand is holy ! 
 Will God forgive me, if in attempting to vindicate his honor I 
 have drawn near to him without being- duly sanctified] 
 
 I know that men who have resolved to go on in sin, who have 
 ]ong been offended at the purity and extent of the law, and would 
 not care if all the rights of the Godhead were trampled upon, find 
 it very convenient to have the character of God thus brought down 
 to their taste and their temper. They will support and will love a 
 gospel that will thus make God altogether such an one as them- 
 selves. Give them a gospel like this, and in half a century there 
 will not , be an avowed infidel on the whole face of the earth. 
 Gladly would they be rid of the reproach of infidelity, could they 
 have a gospel that would promise them a salvation equally cheap 
 and convenient. 
 
 If God will give out his word, and then break it ; will make a 
 law and when men have fallen under its curse, repeal it ; will join 
 the rebel in hating his own attributes ; will issue an edict, and then 
 a counter edict by which the first is neutralized; this is all exactly 
 as they would have it. God is invested with all the human weak- 
 nesses. So Ahasuerus would make a decree, assigning to death 
 all his Jewish subjects, and then enact another, directing them to 
 arm themselves for their own defence, and thus his decree comes 
 to the ground. But how will God be affected by these inroads 
 made upon his name and his glory 1 Will he suffer his character 
 to be tampered with, and finally to be thus frittered down to the 
 taste and the convenience of a polished, and proud, and worldly, 
 and time-serving generation 1 Will it still be eternal life to know 
 him, altered thus, till not an angel in heaven would know him 1 
 altered till all that devils disapproved, and that believers loved, is 
 gone 1 
 
 Let me now ask the advocates of all these schemes, what they 
 <rain 1 Why not be willing, that the blessed God be exhibited to 
 the minds of men, in the very character that he gives himself. Let 
 him be what he declared himself to be, on that occasion when it 
 was his special object to make himself known : " The Lord, the 
 Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in 
 goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving ini- 
 quity, and transgression, and sin, and that will by no means clear 
 
324 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 the guilty ! visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, 
 and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth 
 generations." Here we have, (if I may still use the terms which 
 it grieves me to use,) the milder and the severer attributes of God. 
 In this very character we must deal with him at last, the same that 
 he was when he spoke to Moses from the cloud. Let there be a 
 perfect balance among his attributes. Let him be neither too 
 merciful to be just, nor too "just to forgive us our sins, and cleanse 
 us from all unrighteousness ;" not too compassionate to be holy, 
 nor too holy to smile again upon the rebel, who has fled for refuge 
 to lay hold on the hope set before him in the gospel ; and too gra- 
 cious to be true, nor so the friend of truth as not to reverse the 
 sentence of death, when the condemned have repented and believed. 
 God can have no darling attribute that shall eclipse the other por- 
 tions of his character ; can issue no clashing edicts ; and did not 
 send his Son to soothe, and flatter, and defend the rebel, whom his 
 justice condemned, leaving him still in all his stubbornness and 
 his pride. 
 
 Why this zeal to create confusion in the counsels of the God- 
 head, and sunder the attributes that cluster in Jehovah 1 Simply 
 to gratify men who cannot be pleased with God as he is. But 
 would they be pleased with God were his character altered 1 They 
 could not love an unjust God, unless indeed he would pledge himself 
 never to treat them unjustly. And on ceasing to be a God of truth, 
 he could not give that pledge. The sinner will reason, When God 
 shall cease to be offended with me for wronging my neighbor, he 
 will not be offended with my neighbor for injuring me. If / may 
 hurt another, and escape with impunity, my oppressor escapes also. 
 If 7 may prey upon the contents of his purse, and trample upon 
 his rights, and sport with his enjoyments ; then is there a world let 
 loose, to trifle with my interest, and make inroads upon my rights, 
 and blast my comforts. 
 
 Thus is there spread a ruin as wide as the whole creation of 
 Gody Angels lose their confidence in him, and all heaven is made 
 unhappy, while the despair of the pit is changed for the hope of 
 impunity. We assert then, that not the grossest infidelity, nor 
 even atheism, holds out a prospect more dreary than a gospel, that 
 thus libels the character of Jehovah, and, by one grand mistake, 
 sunders the whole of this alienated world for ever, from the au- 
 thority, and the rule, and the inspection, of an intrusive and dis- 
 gustful divinity. 
 
 And when the error is on the opposite extreme and the mercy 
 
ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 325 
 
 of God is obscured, though a different motive may have led to this 
 exhibition, and a different result may follow, still is that motive a 
 mistaken one, and that result unhappy. God has not directed his 
 ministers to keep the minds of his people filled with one or two 
 selected attributes of his nature, but would have his whole charac- 
 ter developed. Some may be deterred from embracing religion, 
 from the impression that they must love a God whose character is 
 cold, calculating, severe, and vindictive. And if sanctified under 
 such a gospel, it is doubtful whether their religion will not be 
 either gloomy and desponding, or coldly doctrinal and polemic. 
 
 The character of God will not be found at last to have shaped 
 itself to our mistaken views of him ; but will be, when we come 
 to deal with him in the judgment, what it always was. The attri- 
 butes and the glories that may now be obscured, eclipsed or neu- 
 tralized, will all be there to cluster and harmonize in the burning 
 glories of the Godhead, on the day of retribution. A God will 
 then meet us as holy, and just, and true, as the law, and the light- 
 nings of Sinai would make him ; and still as merciful and gracious, 
 and long-suffering, as Pisgah, and Tabor, and Calvary have de- 
 clared him. He will confess himself in that day the Author of all 
 the anathemas and all the promises of inspiration. Time will 
 not have altered his character, nor the exigencies of betrayed and 
 ruined souls moved him from a single purpose. There will gather 
 in his brow all the majesty that makes devils afraid, and all the 
 sweetness that makes angels glad ; the one will look the lost into 
 despair, and the combined glories of the whole look the saved into 
 ecstasy. Then will be felt the full import of the text ; the only 
 true God will be known, and to know him will be eternal life. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1 have three reasons to offer for thinking this subject of great 
 importance. 
 
 1. Men will have a moral character according with their views of 
 God. As the truth sanctifies, just so surely does error contaminate, 
 and no truths or errors so assuredly as those that relate to God. 
 They invariably pour their influence through our whole creed, and 
 touch every spring of action. Hence if men think rightly of God, 
 I cannot but hope that the truth will one day sanctify them ; but 
 if otherwise I have fearful apprehensions of their ruin. The basest 
 of men act from principle, though from bad principle. They are 
 profane, and false, and lewd, and dishonest, because some false 
 views of God have begotten in them the hope of impunity. From 
 
326 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 a loose ministry, or vicious parentage, or vile associate, they have 
 imbibed the principles that go to mould their deeds and their habits 
 into the image of death. You may pass down, if you please, 
 through all the ranks of immorality, from the young man in the 
 gospel, who loved the world more than Christ, to the abandoned 
 outlaw, and you will find as many different shades in their faith, as 
 in the turpitude of their deeds. And every unregenerate man 
 stands prepared to have his faith corrupted. He loves darkness 
 rather than light, because his deeds are evil. He is on the watch 
 to hear something said of God, that may assist him in loosening 
 the bonds of moral obligation. Hence many a youth has issued 
 from the house of prayer, modest, civil, and decent, fearing an 
 oath, respecting the Sabbath, doing homage to religion, and giving 
 high promise of future worth and usefulness j but some wretch 
 corrupted his views of God, and immediately he cast off restraint, 
 and went out to scatter through society firebrands, arrows and 
 death. Hence, if we regard the eternal life of our children, and 
 the youth in our streets, we shall furnish them a gospel, and a 
 library, and give them that instruction which will lead them to a 
 correct knowledge of God. 
 
 2. Believers will have a religious character according with their 
 views of God. Nothing has been more obvious in the history of 
 man, than the conformity of his religious character to that of the 
 God he believed in and worshipped. Pass through the territories 
 of paganism, and, such as you find their gods, such are their wor- 
 shippers. Are they fierce, and jealous, and lewd, and bloody, or 
 mild and placable, such invariably are their devotees. And as you 
 come up through the lower grades of nominal Christians, ask them 
 their views of God, and their answer will give you substantially 
 the purity of their religious character. God is our highest object 
 of respect and of imitation, and to be like him, the highest object 
 of holy aspiration. Hence, if in our esteem his character is more 
 or less pure and lovely, such we shall wish our own to be. He 
 who sees in God no attribute but mercy, and never thinks of him 
 but as a. father, will be less likely to hate sin, and less careful to be 
 holy, than the man who thinks of God as a sovereign and a judge, 
 as well as a father. 
 
 And the case will be similar as to enjoyment. No false views of 
 God will render us as happy as correct views. If we see only the 
 mild and merciful traits of the divine character, we may have joy, 
 but it will not be solid and lasting. And if we look at God merely 
 in the attitude of sovereignty, and may never call him our Father, 
 
ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 327 
 
 or see his mercy commingled with his terrors, we shall be for ever 
 in bondage. There *are no doubt many on their way to heaven, 
 who are so injured by their creed, as seldom to pray any other but 
 the prayer of the condemned and the lost. They are serious and 
 watchful Christians, but never hopeful, and never happy: joint 
 heirs with Christ, yet never venturing to say, Abba Father ! 
 
 Nor will Christians who have partial views of God be useful. 
 It is when he appears in all his glories, attracting sinners to him- 
 self by the full view of his attributes, and, mingling mercy with 
 judgment, reigns to make his creatures happy, that we feel our 
 souls inspired to be workers together with him in extending his 
 dominions. It is then that it seems to us a grief and a pity, that 
 there should be any heart alienated from him, any hands that do 
 not labor in his service, or tongue that does not speak his praise. 
 Not the sovereignty of God alone, nor his mercy alone, can make the 
 most useful man. The one holds back the inspiring influence of 
 joy and hope, the other begets a religion tha-t will all evaporate 
 in songs and hosannas. Angels are inspired, by seeing the whole 
 of God ; and men will be more or less like angels, as " The God 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, shall give unto them 
 the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of himself." 
 Then it is that we feel it to be a reasonable service, that we pre- 
 sent our bodies and our souls to him, a living sacrifice, holy and 
 acceptable. 
 
 3. Society at large will shape its moral aspect from the prevailing 
 views of God. As fraud, and falsehood, and blood, invariably follow 
 the track of idolatry, and the dark places of the earth are thus fill- 
 ed with the habitations of cruelty ; so in the different parts of 
 Christendom, you may gather the prevailing notions of God from 
 the morals of the community. Survey the darker territories of the 
 Catholic communion, and tell me if in rapine and murder, their po- 
 pulation is removed more than a single shade from the dreariness 
 and desolations of paganism. Where in Christendom is life and 
 property least secure ; where are daily assassinations, where the 
 whole population prepared for any deed of darkness and cruelty, 
 but where there is least prevalent a correct knowledge of God. 
 And let any one of the better territories of Christendom become 
 apostate in their views of God, and how soon will vice spring up, 
 the public morals be changed, the Sabbath be lost, the theatre 
 thronged, and dress and vanity fill the place of sobriety and prayer ! 
 How soon will the true followers of Christ be persecuted, and fa- 
 
328 ONLY ONE TRUE GOD. 
 
 mily devotion, and Christian watchfulness, and all the retiring vir- 
 tues of holier times disappear ! 
 
 Thus you have my reasons for thinking this subject important. 
 For these, and others that could be offered, I would watch the 
 public creed relative to the character of God, more tenaciously 
 than at any other point. It is the fortress I would starve in de- 
 fending, the strong-hold into which I would fly with my children, 
 and feel myself, and teach them to feel, that it is the only safe 
 place to die. 
 
 Will the blessed God make me far better acquainted with his 
 character, and never subject me to the awful temptation, of think- 
 ing it a light thing to either overlook, or give paramount import- 
 ance, to any one of the glorious attributes of his nature ! Will he 
 cause his name to be known in all lands, and make his praise glo- 
 rious, wherever there are beings capable of doing him honor ! 
 
SERMON XXVIII. 
 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 GEN. XLIX. 10. 
 
 The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a law-giver from between his feet, until Shiloh 
 come: and unto him* shall the gathering of the people be. 
 
 JACOB was now very near to the close of life, and had strong 
 apprehensions that his end might be at hand. But he had yet to 
 deliver to his children his dying benediction. He accordingly 
 called them about him, and rehearsed to them the future history 
 of their respective families, for ages to come. Of Judah he pre- 
 dicted, that he should stand high in the esteem and respect of his 
 brethren, should overthrow his enemies, and should bear rule over 
 his father's children. He should come upon his enemies with all 
 the strength and the daring with which a lion comes down from 
 the mountains, seizes and bears up his prey, while no one dares to 
 interrupt his course, or rouse him when he has betaken himself to 
 rest. His land should be x so abundant in vines, that he might 
 fasten his beast to their branches, and wash his vestments in the 
 blood of the grape. He should have a dominion so permanent, 
 that nothing should interrupt it till the advent of Messiah, who 
 should gather the nations about him, and hold the sceptre for ever. 
 
 That part of this famous prediction, on which I purpose to en- 
 large, has attracted the attention and confirmed the faith of be- 
 lievers in every age since. We see here selected a single family, 
 who for ages should constitute his Church, to the exclusion of all 
 others ; with whom he would deposit his law, and all that was 
 divulged of his purpose. One branch of this family should be 
 honored above the others, should give birth to the Messiah, and 
 hold the authority till he come. Thus the world shall expect their 
 Redeemer, shall know where and when to look for him, and if pre- 
 pared to receive him, shall be in no danger of imposition. The 
 text is one of those scriptures that marked out the time when the 
 Messiah should appear. 
 
 By the word- sceptre we are no doubt to understand the ensign 
 or badge of authority. The word signifies a rod or staff and 
 42 
 
330 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 hence came to mean a sceptre j as kings, when they sat upon their 
 thrones, used to hold in their hand a rod as a token of their author- 
 ity. Hence, when Esther presented herself to the king, he 
 reached out to her the golden sceptre. 
 
 The text gives us no intimation when Judah should rise to 
 dominion, but when he should take the sceptre into his hand it 
 should not depart till the coming of Shiloh. We know that for a 
 long time after the delivery of this inspired benediction, the 
 government of Israel was not in the tribe of Judah. Moses, their 
 first ruler, was of the tribe of Levi. The judges were of several 
 different tribes. Saul, the first king, was of the tribe of Benjamin. 
 But David, his successor, was of the tribe of Judah ; and in him, 
 six hundred years after the prediction, the authority commenced 
 which is noticed in the text, and which continued till the coming 
 of the promised Shiloh. 
 
 The Jews, to evade the force of this prophecy, would have the 
 word translated sceptre, to mean the rod of correction, which, they 
 say, shall not depart from Judah till Shiloh come and liberate 
 them. But this exposition is contrary, in the first place, to the 
 whole tenor of the context, which assigns to Judah power, glory, 
 and victory. It would be very singular if one clause of the bene- 
 diction would give him the pride, the strength, and the indepen- 
 dence of a lion, and another clause make him the subject of per- 
 petual oppression. In the second place, this exposition would be 
 contrary to matters of historical fact, which the Jews themselves 
 would not have the folly to contradict. Judah was at no one 
 period signalized as a sufferer. The rod of oppression came ear- 
 lier, and fell heavier, and continued longer on the other tribes than 
 on Judah. And as Judah is the only tribe that returned entire 
 after the captivity, it would seem the only one from which the rod 
 of oppression did depart. But it is only hatred to the light, that 
 has led that unbelieving people to this interpretation. The ancient 
 Jews, and all who have understood the language of the Old Testa- 
 ment in its original, and have had no particular inducement to per- 
 vert the text, have rendered the word sceptre. 
 
 And the next clause still farther explains this, " Nor a law-giver 
 from between his feet." It is natural that a sceptre be in the hands 
 of a law-giver. But some have chosen to render the word scribe 
 instead of law-giver, and would have us understand by it one who 
 is employed in writing laws, either civil or ecclesiastical. If this 
 rendering could be justified, it would not much vary the sense. 
 But it is believed that this rendering cannot be justified, as the 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 331 
 
 Hebrews use for scribe another word. Hence the passage means, 
 that there shall be in Judah, till the coming of Shiloh, a law-giver 
 as well as the ensign of authority. The kind of government is 
 not specified, nor is it important, as the truth of the prophecy will 
 be evident, if it shall appear that there was in the tribe of Judah 
 any species of authority down to the advent of the Redeemer. 
 
 That by Shiloh we are to understand the Messiah there will be 
 little doubt. The word thus rendered is used only in this place, 
 yet is allowed by all classes of commentators to refer to the Re- 
 deemer. Some interpret it a peace-maker, a Savior ; others a 
 preserver, a deliverer j and others still, with greater probability, 
 the sent, or one to be sent. This idea exactly -comports with the 
 attitude in which the Savior is presented to us in the Old Testa- 
 ment, as the angel of the covenant, the angel Jehovah. Hence, 
 in the New Testament, he is spoken of as him that was to come. 
 The woman of Samaria said to our Lord, " I know that Messiah 
 cometh, which is called Christ : when he is come he will tell us 
 all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak to thee am he." 
 The Jewish expositors are generally agreed that the text has 
 reference to the Savior. 
 
 Their quibble about the word which we render until, but dis- 
 covers their weakness and their obstinacy. It is compounded of 
 two particles j one they render /or ever, and the other because, and 
 read the text thus : " The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor 
 a law-giver from between his feet for ever, because Shiloh shall 
 come." But beside that this construction is forced, it would not 
 comport with facts, which they must all acknowledge. For while 
 they generally deny that the Messiah has come, they will not deny 
 that now the sceptre has departed from Judah. Some of them 
 have been so cramped on this subject as to adopt the absurdity 
 that the Messiah ha's come, but keeps himself hidden because of 
 their wickedness. Thus men will make the word of God to mean 
 any thing rather than not support their favorite scheme ; and when 
 the text proves too obstinate to be resisted, will adopt the most 
 improbable conjectures to prop the fabric of falsehood. But error 
 is for ever thus changeable and uncertain. Like the fabled isle 
 of Delos, it for ever fluctuates, nor can men or devils give it per- 
 manent location. If one would be entirely certain that modern 
 Unitarianism has no foundation in truth, he has only to compare 
 the shifts of its advocates, with the endlessly varying conjectures 
 of the Jews since the death of Christ, to rid themselves of the con- 
 viction that he has already come and set up his kingdom. In 
 
332 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 either community they hold you in suspense for ever. When they 
 should inform what Ihe text does mean, they only bewilder you 
 with illusions, and brow-beat you with assertions of what it can- 
 not mean, and must not mean, and finally, if they would be honest, 
 what it shall not mean. Nothing but truth is plain and consistent : 
 error is inconsistent, not only with truth, but with itself. 
 
 I. Is it then a fact that there continued to be a sceptre and a 
 law-giver in the tribe of Judah down to the time of the Savior 1 
 On this point a little inquiry will give, it is presumed, entire satis- 
 faction. Down to the captivity there will be no doubt. And if 
 during that period there should seem to have been a suspension of 
 Judah' s authority, still it is a fact that there was no transfer of au- 
 thority to any other tribe. And if for that short space we could 
 see no remains of authority, it should not be considered as nulli- 
 fying the prediction. Seventy years, in a period so long as that 
 which intervened between the delivery of this prediction and the 
 coming of Christ, would be too insignificant to be excepted in a 
 general prophecy. But the fact seems to be, that the tribe of Ju- 
 dah did hold its ascendency even during the period of their 
 dispersion. We are assured that the king of Babylon took from 
 prison, and treated with marked kindness, Jehoiachin, king of Ju- 
 dah, thirty-seven years after his captivity ; and it is said that he 
 set his throne above the throne of the kings that were in Babylon : 
 and Jehoiachin we know was of the tribe of Judah. Thus the 
 sceptre did not depart, even when that tribe had its residence in a 
 strange land. Daniel too, we know, was of the tribe of Judah, 
 and was made governor over the whole province of Babylon, and of 
 course over the children of the captivity. And we have no reason 
 to doubt but that the Jewish writers assert the truth when they 
 assure us that the successive governors of the* exiled Jews, con- 
 tinued to be selected from the tribe of Judah and the house of Da- 
 vid. So Zorobabel and Neherniah are both said to have been of 
 the tribe of Judah. 
 
 And when afterward the civil power was vested principally in 
 the Sanhedrim, still the sceptre must doubtless be considered as re- 
 maining in the tribe of Judah. That the Sanhedrim had very great 
 power there will be no question. That council was instituted by 
 the Lord himself, an account of which we have in the eleventh 
 chapter of Numbers. And they were not dispersed nor wholly 
 disrobed of power up to the time when they sat in judgment on 
 the Son of God. From the close of the captivity to the deetruc- 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 333 
 
 tion of the temple, this body continued to be the great council of 
 the nation. At first they were to be chosen from all the tribes, 
 but after their return from Babylon, they were principally of the 
 house of Judah, though occasionally of Levi and of Benjamin. 
 But these two tribes were amalgamated with, and as it were, lost 
 in the tribes of Judah, and whatever they might do was done by 
 virtue of authority derived from the tribe with which they had be- 
 come incorporated. Hence the sceptre did not depart. 
 
 Even when the Romans appointed them a king, still the Sanhe- 
 drim had large powers. Even Herod the Great was tried for his 
 life before that court. If it should be said that their authority 
 was in a great measure neutralized, when Judea became a Roman 
 province, and an Idumesan was constituted their Sovereign, still it 
 was not wholly destroyed. They long contended with Herod 
 about the supreme authority, nor could they be prevailed upon to 
 take the oath of loyalty till after the birth of the Savior. At the 
 time of his arrest we find them still embodied, and sitting to hear 
 evidence and pass judgment upon him who had come 'to be their 
 king. True, they had lost the power, as we term it, of life and 
 death, and might not proceed to the crucifixion till they had ob- 
 tained the assent of Pilate. But although their power was evi- 
 dently languishing it did not expire till Titus demolished the sanc- 
 tuary. 
 
 II. Our next inquiry is, whether from that period all authority 
 did cease from the tribe of Judah. If this shall appear, then are 
 we certain that the promised Shiloh has come. And whether in 
 that case he be the Messiah, or some other personage, there can 
 be but little doubt. That the tribe of Judah did actually lose 
 all authority at that time, and has never recovered it, there 
 cannot be a question. That tribe has never had since then 
 any distinct existence. No descendant of Abraham will now 
 pretend to tell you to which tribe he belongs. He may assure 
 you that when the Messiah comes he will restore them to their re- 
 spective tribes, but til then they remain by their own confession 
 an undistinguished mass of Israelites. And there is no sceptre 
 or law-giver among them. This will be acknowledged by every 
 man who has any common acquaintance with history. 
 
 Their condition is exactly the opposite of all that can be termed 
 rule or authority. They are scattered among the nations of the 
 earth ; have scarcely any of them a fixed habitation, and none of 
 them the least shade of authority. There is hardly a kingdom in 
 
334 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 the world, where they have not been excluded, not merely from 
 any share in the national government, but even from the com- 
 mon rights of citizenship. 
 
 The woes that Moses predicted, have fallen upon them, and they 
 are cursed in the city and cursed in the field ; cursed in their bas- 
 ket and in their store ; cursed in their children and in the fruit of 
 their land ; cursed when they go out and when they come in ; and 
 in all that they set their hand unto for to do. 
 
 They have planted vineyards, and another has gathered the 
 grapes. They have become. an astonishment, a proverb, and a by- 
 word. They have served their enemies in hunger, and thirst, and 
 nakedness, and have worn upon their neck a yoke of iron. They 
 have sodden and subsisted upon their own children. Their plagues 
 and their sicknesses have been sore and wonderful. The Lord 
 has seemed to rejoice over them to destroy them, and bring them 
 to naught, and scatter them among all nations. They have found 
 no rest to the sole of their foot ; have had a trembling heart, and 
 failing eyes*, and sorrow of mind. They have been in fear day and 
 night, and have been sold to their enemies for bondmen and bond- 
 women, till none would buy them. Precisely this has been their 
 condition more than two thousand years. If Moses had written 
 their history yesterday, instead of two-and-thirty hundred years 
 ago, it had hardly been possible to pen it more correctly. "Hence 
 we need offer no arguments to prove that the law-giver and the 
 sceptre departed from Judah at the time predicted. 
 
 Whatever pretence that wretched people may make, that some- 
 where, no one knows where, there is yet in that tribe the badge of 
 power, and the right of legislation ; no man of common under- 
 standing, and not blinded to the last degree, will listen for a mo- 
 ment to such desperate arguments in support of their obstinacy 
 and their unbelief. 
 
 III. It remains that we inquire whether he who came, at the 
 time when the Jews expected their Shiloh, has exhibited the sign 
 given of him in the text : "Unto him shall the gathering of the peo- 
 ple be." By some this clause is made to mean, him shall the peo- 
 ple obey, or to him shall the people hearken, and again, to him 
 shall all the kingdoms of the earth be subject. Hence Christ is 
 styled in Haggai, the desire of all nations. Now you remem- 
 ber that in the original promise made to Abraham, it was said, 
 that in his seed, by which is meant the Redeemer, shall all 
 the nations of the earth be blessed. Hence the Shiloh men- 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 335 
 
 tioned in the text, is he whom the. Gentiles shall seek, whose 
 instruction they shall receive, whose precepts they shall obey, to 
 whom they shall be subject, in whom they shall be blessed, and to 
 whom they shall be gathered. All this must appear in him who 
 shall answer the description given in the text of Shiloh. 
 
 We remember that very early in the gospel history, while yet 
 salvation was scarcely offered to any but the Jews, the Gentiles 
 seemed more ready than they to become his disciples. It is true 
 that a few Churches were very early gathered among the Jews, 
 but the principal success of the gospel was among the Gentiles. 
 The dispersion that took place on the death of Stephen, seconded 
 by the conversion of Cornelius, soon showed the world that 
 the Jews had ceased to be God's people j and that in every nation 
 he that feareth God and worketh righteousness is accepted of him. 
 Soon Churches were established in many places among the Gen- 
 tiles, and from that day to this the gospel has been making its 
 way through the nations, and the people have been gathered to the 
 Lord Jesus. 
 
 Now here lies the proof of his Messiahship, that the religion he 
 taught, and the means he used to propagate it, should gather him 
 disciples so rapidly arid so extensively. And had there been no 
 other proof that he was the predicted Shiloh, this one should have 
 been sufficient long since to convince the Jews that he whom they 
 still expect, has come. On the supposition that the Lord Jesus 
 Christ was not the promised Messiah, and of course that no Divine 
 power gives efficacy to his gospel, nothing can be more surprising 
 than the promptness with which he gathers disciples. And this 
 was the very sign given, " to him shall the gathering of the peo- 
 ple be." Now if any Jews or Gentiles are not prepared to receive 
 him in the character of their Redeemer, they must account for the 
 success of his gospel. It was never propagated with the sword ; 
 it asks no support from human power and human law, but has 
 made its silent way in direct opposition to the powers of earth a.nd 
 hell. 
 
 The very nature of the religion of Christ renders its propaga- 
 tion a proof of his Messiahship. It can adopt no system of com- 
 promise with any other religion. It must be either rejected, or 
 adopted as the only one that can bring men to happiness and God. 
 The Savior is not to be worshipped in conjunction with Jupiter, 
 and Moloch, and Diana. He must have the supreme regard, and 
 every idol must be abandoned. Hence his religion, when it began 
 its course, was at war with every other, in every town or city 
 
336 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 xvhere it was attempted to be propagated, and the smallest success 
 in these circumstances must have been a demonstration that its 
 author was Divine. 
 
 And what is more, the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ found 
 the bitterest enmity in every heart it attempted to subdue. It de- 
 manded on its first presentation at the door of him it would redeem, 
 that he be radically changed, that he love what he hated and hate 
 what he loved. Hence our Lord would not deceive his disciples, 
 but told them that he came not to send peace but a sword. Still 
 with just such a religion as this, the Lord Jesus gathered disciples, 
 and continues to gather them, while every native passion of the 
 soul is at war with the Savior, and the doctrines it is invited to em- 
 brace. 
 
 The character of the Savior, when presented to the people that 
 were to be gathered to him, was awfully forbidding. Aside from 
 the consideration that he was the enemy of all sin and they totally 
 depraved ; his humble ingress, the meanness of his parentage and 
 his birth, and the ignominy of his crucifixion, all tended to render 
 it wholly improbable that he should ever gain adherents, and still 
 men of the most towering views became his disciples, even some 
 of the members of the Sanhedrim. 
 
 And what seemed an insurmountable barrier, he chose as the 
 instruments who should propagate his gospel, men from the lowest 
 walks of life, fishermen and tent-makers. These were to go and 
 plead his name before kings and emperors. Still under all these 
 embarrassments the people were gathered to him, and his religion 
 spread throughout the civilized world. How then could the Jews, 
 or how can the unbelievers in the present day, doubt that Jesus 
 was the promised Shiloh, and that his own almighty power gave 
 efficacy to his gospel 1 
 
 And when we consider again the state of the world, how exactly 
 the opposite of that religion, unbelief is put to still deeper confusion. 
 We can hardly read without a blush, the account that Paul gives 
 us of the state of morals anterior to the gospel, among the very 
 men to whom it was published. I will read you a part of that de- 
 scription. He says, " Men were filjed with all unrighteousness." 
 (Rom. i. 29-32.) Now it was among just such beings as these 
 that the gospel had to make its way. Such were the people that 
 the Lord Jesus would gather to him, or if he failed, did not 
 claim to be owned as the promised Shiloh. We are all ready 
 to say that the Jews had no excuse for rejecting their Mes- 
 siah. But let us not forget that the light which thus poured upon 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 337 
 
 the page of prophecy, and pointed out to the Jews their Shiloh so 
 distinctly that we wonder at their unbelief, is still increasing. The 
 council that condemned him, and the man who betrayed him, and 
 the multitude who exulted in his agonies, had less evidence that 
 he was the Son of God than we have, and had a better excuse for 
 their unbelief than we. They had sufficient light to condemn 
 them, but we have still more. They saw his gospel have some 
 success, and were under obligation to believe ; we see it operating 
 on almost all nations, and are under still increased obligation to 
 embrace and love him. We all join to condemn the Jews fos their 
 unbelief, but it would not be wonderful if we perish under a more 
 aggravated condemnation. 
 
SERMON XXIX. 
 THE INDEX SURE. No. II. 
 
 GENESIS XLIX. 10. 
 
 The sceptre shall not depart from Judah, nor a law-giver from between his feet, until Shiloh 
 come ; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be. 
 
 WE can conceive of few things in the creation in which there 
 is more of the sublime, than in a prediction like this, given seve- 
 ral thousand years since, and recorded for the successive genera- 
 tions to read, while they witness its fulfillment. There is seen in 
 such an object, concentrated all that wisdom and power that built 
 the universe. He who can predict what shall be, must know, as 
 is said of God, " the end from the beginning, and from ancient 
 times the things that are not." And to foretell with certainty he 
 must have power to bring to pass. It involves, too, a Divine pur- 
 pose, by which all the events that are future are made certain. 
 Under a government where things were left to the control of 
 chance, or. accident, there could be no such certainty, even if we 
 suppose the existence of a mind that can foresee the most distant 
 tracts of time. Hence, to contemplate a subject like this, gives 
 to the mind a sublimity of elevation, and tends to fill it with ador- 
 ing thoughts of the Creator. And still it feels its own littleness ; 
 for where there is so much of God, all beside is insignificant and 
 worthless. And there are no contemplations more calculated to 
 soothe and comfort the believing mind. He who can know and 
 predict all the events that will happen, can provide for his people 
 in all the emergencies into which they may be brought. 
 
 In illustrating the text, in the former discourse, it was my de- 
 sign, first, to explain the terms ; secondly, to show that there did 
 continue a sceptre and a law-giver in the tribe of Judah down to 
 the advent of the Redeemer j thirdly, to show that from and after 
 that time there did cease all authority and power in that branch 
 of the house of Israel ; and, finally, that to the Lord Jesus the 
 people have been gathered, as it was predicted they should be, to 
 the promised Shiloh. What remains now is, that we make some 
 practical use of the whole. I would then 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 339 
 
 REMARK, 
 
 1. The subject will lead us to admire the Divine conduct. Where 
 he requires faith, there he accumulates evidence in such profusion, 
 that every mind not decidedly hostile to truth, must yield its as- 
 sent. He had promised the world that he would send them a Re- 
 deemer ; hence, when that Redeemer should come, he would re- 
 quire all to receive him, and that their faith might not want for 
 evidence, he poured in upon the man Christ Jesus, the concen- 
 trated light of a thousand ages. And it ought to cover the unbe- 
 liever with shame to know that such was the precision with which 
 he was designated, that even devils know him. The first promise 
 was, that he should be the seed of the woman. And at that time 
 it would have been of no use to have made the promise more defi- 
 nite. At the time of the deluge it was rendered certain, without 
 any specific promise, that the Savior must be of the family of 
 Noah. But his family soon became so numerous, that the believer 
 could not know where to look for the promised seed. He might 
 be born near the spot where the ark rested, or in some far-distant 
 isle of the ocean. Hence, God jnade choice of Abraham, and 
 gave him the promise that in his seed all the nations of the earth 
 should be blessed ; and directed him to go to that land, where he 
 would still farther limit the line of descent, and where the Savior 
 should himself be born. When Ishmael was born, Abraham doubt- 
 Jess supposed that he was the promised heir, and he and the world 
 might have looked for the Savior in his family, had not God 
 given him another son, and promised that in Isaac should his seed 
 be called. In his family again the promise was confirmed to Ja- 
 cob, and in his to Judah, and in his to David. This was -the last 
 limitation as to the line of descent, and the time of the promise 
 was now so nigh that no farther designation was necessary. Here, 
 then, we see pointed out very distinctly the family in which the 
 Messiah should be born. 
 
 As to the time, it was to be, according to the prediction record- 
 ed in Daniel, four hundred and ninety years from the going forth 
 of the commandment to restore and build Jerusalem. It was to 
 be while yet there was a sceptre and a law-giver in Judah.* 
 
 * The time of his coining was still farther designated by the appearance of 
 John the Baptist : " Behold," said the last but one of the prophets, in the very 
 last words he uttered, " Behold, I send you Elijah the prophet, before the com- 
 ing of the great and terrible day of the Lord. And he shall turn the heart of 
 the fathers to their children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I 
 come and smite the earth with a curse." And God himself assures us that this 
 
340 . THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 As to the land of his nativity, this was marked out and conse- 
 crated to the Lord ages beforehand, in the communications 
 made to Abraham. But lest the extent of Canaan should 
 still cast a cloud upon the promise, the very town was named in 
 which he should be born : " Thou Bethlehem, Ephratah, though 
 thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall 
 he come forth unto us that is to rule in Israel ; whose goings forth 
 have been from of old, from everlasting." 
 
 That still there might be no room for mistake, the angels came 
 from heaven to tell the shepherds that he was born, and to guide 
 them to his humble lodgement. To the wise men of the east there 
 appeared a star that moved before them, and came and stood over 
 the place where the young child lay. Even the Roman emperor must 
 be induced at that juncture to make a decree that all the world should 
 be taxed, that that decree might operate to bring the blessed Mary 
 from Nazareth to Bethlehem, previously to the birth of the Savior. 
 Thus wonderfully minute were the pointings of Heaven to the 
 infant Redeemer. 
 
 And those who had not opportunity to visit his manger, might 
 open the pages of prophecy and read there his character and his 
 history, and rest assured that he who was reported to have been 
 born in Bethlehem was indeed the promised Shiloh. He was to 
 be peculiarly a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief : des- 
 pised and rejected of men. He was to bear our griefs, and carry 
 our sorrows ; was to be wounded for our transgressions, and bruis- 
 ed for our iniquities. When oppressed and afflicted he was not to 
 open his mouth. Men were to cast lots for his vesture. He was 
 to hang on a tree, but not a bone of him was to be broken. He 
 was to make his grave with the wicked and with the rich in his 
 death. It was even predicted, that men should buy the potter's 
 field with the thirty pieces of silver, the price at which he was 
 valued. After all this minuteness of prediction, how impossible 
 does it seem that any one should doubt whether he was the 
 promised Messiah. And how must we admire the Divine conduct 
 and goodness in thus giving us many signs, when, if he had given 
 us but one, he might have condemned us if we had not believed. 
 It would seem that it must have been the purpose of God, that no 
 
 promise of Elias met its fulfilment in John." Thus, lest the precise time should 
 not be recollected, one was sent before him, crying in the wilderness, " Prepare 
 ye the way of the Lord ; make his paths straight." From the multitudes that 
 came to hear him, it becomes certain that John must have given a very extend- 
 ed notice that the Messiah was at hand. 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 341 
 
 nation or individual then or since, should be able to resist the 
 flood of light that then poured in upon the Savior of the world, in 
 every inch of his way from the manger to the tomb. Had his 
 name been written the instant he appeared, on the disk of every 
 star ; had the finger of a man's hand appeared instantly in every 
 quarter of the heavens, pointing to the immortalized manger ; or 
 had a voice said in every ear all that was told the watchful shep- 
 herds, the evidence of the ingress of the son of God would hardly 
 have been more complete. 
 
 It must not be forgotten that all these intimations respecting the 
 coming Redeemer, had been written in a book, and lodged in 
 the temple of God, and read in the synagogues throughout all 
 the holy land, every Sabbath day for many hundred years ; and we 
 can hardly believe that the report had not penetrated into every 
 section of the globe, where there was a sinner to need an interest 
 in the Redeemer's blood. 
 
 2. How provoking must it be to God, when, after all this, men 
 reject his Son. To all who lived in Palestine, all will agree that 
 the sin of unbelief was enormous. They were in the very spot 
 where all this light concentrated. They had read the prophecies 
 had seen the signs had beheld the events of Providence shaping 
 themselves to his approach, and probably found it impossible not 
 to know that the set time was come. Hence on them we should 
 expect that there would fall a peculiar condemnation. And on 
 them it did fall, and has rested on their children's children down 
 to this very hour. The land itself has been given to desolation, 
 and has withered under the curse ever since. It has become a 
 hissing, a by-word, and a proverb. Its hills have lost their fertility, 
 its fountains have been polluted, and its "vines have withered. 
 
 But if we suppose that none are guilty for rejecting the Savior 
 but the Jews, we are as blind as they. There did shine, it is true, 
 upon that generation who rejected him, a peculiar light, but the 
 present generation of that people have far less light than the im- 
 penitent of this age, and are less guilty. When they contemptu- 
 ously spit upon the ground at the mention of the name of Jesus, 
 they despise an unknown Redeemer, in imitation of the impiety 
 of their ancestors. They are virtually heathen, and many of them 
 have no more idea of God, or a futurity, than the idolaters of inte- 
 rior India. But the Bible and a preached gospel have poured 
 upon every Christian land all the light that shone upon Judea, and 
 more still. We have more convincing light than Herod had, that 
 the Savior was born in Bethlehem during his reign ; and more than 
 
34<2 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 Judas had that he whom Judas betrayed was the Son of God ; ana 
 more than Pilate had, that he whom Pilate condemned will one day be 
 Pilate's judge. In addition to the light they had, we have seen the 
 gospel conquering the world in his name. We have seen the sturdi- 
 est ruffians bowed and tamed at his feet. We have seen accomplish- 
 ed many a prediction that he uttered, many a wo that he issued, many 
 a curse that he threatened, and many a promise that dropped from his 
 lips. Luminous as was the light that gathered about the Babe of Beth- 
 lehem, there have been pouring in ten thousand other streams ever 
 since. Hence let no sinner conceive, that although it be nineteen 
 centuries since the Savior died, there- can be for him any escape 
 from death unless he be washed in a Savior's blood. If he who drove 
 the nails was cursed if he did not believe, he who now crucifies 
 him afresh, and puts him to open shame, will meet a curse no 
 lighter. No, it remains still a crime black as perdition to bar the 
 avenues of the heart against the faith of the Lord Jesus. There 
 is not a man to-day in Christendom, nor a lad, nor a child, that has 
 learned who the Redeemer is, if he reject him to-day, who will not 
 carry home with him guilt enough, if he dies unpardoned, to make 
 him gnash his teeth for ever. Had no Savior been offered, you 
 would only have had to answer for a broken law, but as many of 
 you as are unsanctified have upon you the guilt and the curse of 
 having slighted ten thousand overtures of forgiveness. And if 
 you dare to die in this condition, you can make the sad experiment, 
 but your grave will prove an avenue to the bottomless pit. 
 
 3. In view of this subject it seems no light matter to deny the 
 Deity of the Son of God. How fearfully were the Jews destroyed 
 because they would not recognize him as the promised Shiloh. 
 When once the edict had*gone out, " Let all the angels of God 
 worship him," and God will not. give his glory to another, the be- 
 ing that will not obey must perish. He is either God or a crea- 
 ture. But have we credulity enough to believe that there would 
 have been all this display of prophecy and miracle, pointing to the 
 birth of a worm 1 Must he be promised and proclaimed many 
 thousand years ; must there be a record made of his character 
 while yet he has none 1 Must he make his ingress in the centre 
 of the world, and in the most luminous spot among the nations 1 
 Must a long train of prophets vie with each other in doing honor 
 to the mysterious personage ; and when he is born, be but the be- 
 ing of a day 1 We have heard of 
 
 " Ocean into tempest wrought, 
 To waft a feather or to drown a fly," 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 343 
 
 but there are few who will impute to God such folly. But how 
 like this must appear, to him who believes the Messiah was a mere 
 creature all that train of prophecies, that hyperbole of language, 
 and that pomp of figure that centred in the Babe of Bethlehem 1 
 Judas, it seems, had he been appointed to the work, would have 
 been as good and as glorious a Redeemer as Jesus ; and still his ad- 
 vent must be predicted it seems four thousand years before his birth, 
 and heaven must tell all the generations between that he is coming, 
 and they must think of him in their loftiest thoughts, and speak 
 of him as heaven does in their sublimest language ; must calcu- 
 late to owe to him their whole redemption, and still he has not 
 power when he has laid down his life to take it up again. He in- 
 debted to another for his own existence, but we must trust in him 
 for eternal life ; he our shield, and still he has no power of his own 
 to protect ; he our guide, but another must enlighten and guide 
 him ; he our intercessor, and still he cannot know when we pray ; 
 he our king, and still he himself the subject of a higher and a 
 mightier power ; he pledged to be with his people always, even 
 unto the ends of the world, while yet he could not know that he 
 should be permitted to see them when they suffer, or be present to 
 save. 
 
 If there is a scheme, which, rather than any other, charges God 
 foolishly, makes the plainest truth a mystery, and the whole Bible 
 a bundle of absurdities, and proudly conducts all its votaries to 
 death, it is that which thus quenches the light of Israel. Must I 
 choose between it and open infidelity, I would be an infidel. By 
 the same dash with which I blot the name of the Redeemer, I 
 would obliterate the Father, and believe the grave the end of me. 
 I would not waste my time and strength, and torture my con- 
 science, to mutilate the Book of God, but would believe the whole 
 a lie, and warm myself in its blaze, and wish I were a brute. Then 
 I would calmly expect one day to be a supper for the worms, free 
 from the dread of the worm that shall never die. Men must be 
 desperately the foes of truth, and inveterately hostile to the Lord 
 Jesus, before they can thus rudely confront the plainest truths of 
 God; and the crime, where there is not gross ignorance, must 
 come very near to that which cannot be forgiven. To avoid one 
 mystery which they cannot comprehend, they would throw afloat 
 the faith of the gospel, make us doubt whether any part of it has 
 come to us uncorrupted, and finally must adopt mysteries greater 
 than the one they discard, must believe that God has indited us a 
 revelation which it is almost impossible to understand, and that he 
 
344 THE INDEX SURE. 
 
 has suffered almost his whole Church to live in the belief of a lie 
 these eighteen hundred years. 
 
 4. This subject should lead us to pray earnestly for the unhappy 
 descendants of Abraham. We are indebted to them, under God, 
 for the privileges we enjoy, but which they have forfeited. The 
 Lord Jesus, in his human nature, belonged to that family. The 
 apostles, through whom we have the Scriptures, and the know- 
 ledge of eternal life, were Jewish converts. But how distressing 
 to us, that that whole community should still reject their promised 
 Shiloh, and be seen writhing these two thousand years under the 
 lashes of a vindictive Providence ! It should excite our pity to 
 know that they are a standing testimony of the truth of prophecy. 
 They are placed as a beacon on the shore of death to warn us not 
 to approach the strand where they were so awfully shipwrecked. 
 Their unbelief has confirmed us in the faith, and it should be our 
 grief that they should perish. When the time has come, and it 
 seems now at hand, when they shall own him that has come, their 
 conversion shall be as life from the dead to the Gentiles. 
 
 Hence gratitude for the blessings we have received through 
 their hands? and love to the kingdom of Christ, which will be 
 greatly advanced by their in-gathering, and pity for the suffering 
 posterity of him who was the father of the faithful, should all join 
 their influence to induce us to pray for a people so interesting and 
 so undone. Every endearing view we have of Christ should lead 
 us to pray for his brethren and kinsmen according to the flesh ; 
 and whenever we see by faith the scenes of Calvary, there should 
 go up some petition for the descendants of those who were active 
 in the crucifixion, and coveted that the blood of the Savior should 
 be on them and their children. On that propitiatory sacrifice 
 we hang our hopes of heaven, and should rejoice can we be the 
 means of bringing down upon the descendants of his betrayers and 
 murderers, any heavenly blessings, or of removing the curse under 
 which they have so long pined and perished. 
 
 And if their case should demand something more than prayers 
 should require sacrifices can we better expend the talents that 
 God has loaned us than in the purchase of their redemption 1 It 
 is high time that we placed in their hands the Hebrew Testament, 
 that they may know the character of the Savior they have re- 
 jected, and may see and lament the cause of their long-continued 
 dispersion. Gratitude for the gift of a Savior through the line of 
 Abraham, and for the Holy Scriptures through Jewish Apostles, 
 should urge us to make exertions for their rescue from the thral- 
 
THE INDEX SURE. 34-5 
 
 dom of unbelief. They would join us in adoring the Savior, and 
 rejoice with us in the covenants of promise, and we could feel 
 pleasure for ever, in having contributed to rescue them from the 
 dominions of death. 
 
 Happily the time has come, when they begin to doubt whether 
 they may not look for their Shiloh till their eyes consume away 
 in their holes, unless they build their hopes of eternal life on 
 him who has come. Numbers of them have made their escape 
 from death, and others are inquiring with a candor and a docility, 
 as new as it is interesting, " Where is the angel of the covenant V 
 
 FINALLY, may we not fear, that if we reject the Savior, there 
 may be found in our families a race of unbelievers, that may go, 
 generation after generation, down to the blackness of darkness 
 for ever 1 How can we know that some families that we can name, 
 in wjiom we see not a believer from age to age, have inherited 
 from some ungodly ancestor, a ruin like that which fell upon the 
 family of Israel 1 Poverty, and crime, and degradation, are the 
 prominent features of their condition. Ah, let us beware, lest our 
 children's children shall be telling the world, some hundred years 
 hence, the tale of our unbelief and impenitence. 
 
 44, 
 
SERMON XXX. 
 
 THE WISE MAJNf WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 DEUTERONOMY, XXXII. 29. 
 O that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end. 
 
 
 
 MOSES had been speaking of the kindness of God to his people. 
 He found them in a desert land, and in a waste howling wilder- 
 ness. He led them about, he instructed them, he kept them as 
 the apple of his eye. By a spirit of prophecy he looked forward, 
 and saw them enter in triumph the land of promise, there to eat 
 of the increase of the field, to suck honey out of the rock, and 
 drink the pure blood of the grape. And here he would gladly 
 have limited his prophetic view, and would have died believing 
 that the people he loved, would remain the heirs of that goodly 
 land till the consummation of all things, and be to the latest ages 
 the chosen inheritance of heaven. But the same prophetic Spirit 
 which had made him acquainted with one future page of their his- 
 tory, penetrated the tracts of time, that stretched still beyond, and 
 unfolded to his inspired vision a page still beyond, darkened and 
 dismal with crimes and punishments. Here he paused to lament, 
 that they would so sin against their own souls, that they would 
 not feel in time that they had to deal with a jealous God, who 
 would not give his glory to another, and in the language of the 
 text pours out the honest and tender feelings of his heart, " O that 
 they were wise, that they understood this, that they would con- 
 sider their latter end." This would avert the doom I foresee, and 
 secure them a perpetual title to the fields of promise. 
 
 But the text will bear a more extended application. It is as 
 true of us all as it was of Israel, that we contemplate too little the 
 scenes of futurity, and fasten the eye too exclusively on the life 
 that now is. This world is too much our home ; its cares occupy 
 too exclusively our attention ; and its treasures claim too high 
 a place among the instruments of our joy. We are pilgrims at 
 the best, who have here no abiding city, but seek one to come, 
 whose builder and maker is God. That man is a beggar and a 
 wretch, who extends not his views to another life, and has no 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 34-7 
 
 % 
 
 prospects of enjoyment in a better world. The concerns of this 
 life are too small to engross the energies of an immortal mind. 
 When I feel myself allured by its charms, and when I see so many 
 of my poor dying neighbors engrossed exclusively in these sublu- 
 nary scenes, I feel that we have a mean and poor employment. 
 And I have chosen this text, rather than many a one, which, on 
 some accounts, would have been more appropriate, because I wish 
 to warn myself, and the neighborhood in which I live, and the 
 people to whom I minister, and every stranger who may be pre- 
 sent, that' this world is not our home, nor our rest j that there 
 awaits us a dying bed, and a lonely grave, and perhaps a sudden 
 transit into the presence of the holy and heart-searching God. 
 We are forming a character for another state, and have forgotten 
 our only errand into life, if any other cares crowd us so closely, 
 or engross us so exclusively, as the one care of adorning the soul 
 for its speedy appearance at the banquet of the Lamb. This is the 
 concern that should direct our dreams, wake our slumbers, bring 
 us early to our knees, and go with us and keep its hold upon our 
 thoughts, our affections, and our lips, through all the hours of 
 light, through the social converse of our evenings, and the sacred 
 worship of our Sabbaths. Why can we not move about among 
 the cares of this life, and still keep firmly our hold upon a better 1 
 If we think often of death we shall die no sooner, and if we 
 often talk of the life to come, we shall be called none the sooner 
 to part with the life that now is. If we mingle the cares of another 
 world with those of the present, we need not neglect to make all 
 necessary provision for the body. Nor need these thoughts and 
 cares embitter our present enjo.yments. Who has heaven's per- 
 mission to be happy but the believer, the man whose heavenly 
 mind can see a substance, and taste a sweetness in the things un- 
 seen, who can even here inhale a fragrance from the flowers of 
 paradise, and realize a treasure deposited where moth and rust 
 cannot corrupt, and where thieves cannot break through and steal ! 
 Tell me not of men being happy whose all is in the present life, 
 and who are tormented if they chance to think of death ; it is all 
 false. They may be stupid, and so is a worm, but who ever 
 dreamed that a thoughtless man was happy 1 He may be free 
 from sensible misery, and so is the ox ; but one who claims that 
 he is a man, and glories in being capable of thought, is not happy 
 when he does not think. Cast forward the eye of faith and read 
 the future pages of your history, and if you cannot read them and 
 still be happy, then I would bid joy adieu for ever. Think of a 
 
34-8 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 * 
 
 death-bed, of the shroud you shall wear, the coffin that shall house 
 yon, the grave you shall occupy, the procession that shall escort 
 you to the bleak and cheerless cemetery, the vacuum that shall 
 be seen in your dwelling, the widow that shall weep for you, and 
 the children that shall bury their best hopes in your sepulchre, 
 and return to weep over their untimely orphanage : think, too, 
 where you shall then be, in what world, in what society, how 
 employed and if you cannot think it all over and be happy, your 
 condition is most pitiable. What ! do you boast of having the 
 powers of thought, and dare not think ! Glad that you 'are not a 
 thoughtless beast, and yet must become thoughtless as a beast, or 
 be miserable ! Then your fancied distinctions are all a dream, 
 and can do you no honor. My intention is to turn your minds 
 upon the scene of death, and by this means to try your religion, 
 and my own. If we can converse with the scenes of death and be 
 happy, it will be one small evidence in our favor. True wisdom 
 will lead us to consider our latter end. / shall notice some circum- 
 stances of our latter end which it becomes us to consider, and then show 
 that to consider these things is to act wisely. 
 
 I am to notice some circumstances of our latter end, which it 
 becomes us to consider. 
 
 I. Death will part asunder the body and the soul. They are 
 dear and affectionate companions, and are to each other a source 
 of pleasure and of pain. There is between them an indescribable 
 power of endearing sympathy. But in death they part. The 
 body, cold and inanimate, is thrown upon the care of men, while 
 the spirit returns to God who gave it. What remains with us is 
 the merest clay, while that which we loved and caressed is gone. 
 That lifeless body is not the son, the husband, the father, the 
 neighbor, and the friend, we loved. But it is all that we could 
 ever see or touch, while that essential and immortal part which 
 has fled, was intangible and invisible. This change you and I 
 must soon pass. This body must moulder, and this spirit be sum- 
 moned away, to appear in the presence of its judge. 
 
 To properly consider this matter is to see to it that the body 
 and the soul, while they continue associates, be mutual helpmates 
 to each other. The indulgence of the appetites and passions 
 must not be permitted to ruin the soul, nor the mind be employed 
 to destroy the body. They are to be reunited in the resurrection, 
 and must be for ever happy or wretched together. Hence let the 
 soul, while the present union continues, be purified by the blood 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 349 
 
 of sprinkling, and the body rendered a meet temple for the Holy 
 Ghost, that thus the kindred parts may exert upon each other a 
 mutually kind and purifying influence. Then after the sleep of 
 the grave, there- may be a union more happy than the first, more 
 indissoluble and eternal. 
 
 2. Death will dissolve all our earthly ties. The various and 
 endearing relationships of life are all temporary. The husband 
 and the wife, whose union is the most endearing of all others, 
 are obligated to love and cherish each other only till death. Then 
 the tie is broken, and the obligation discharged. The lifeless 
 corpse is no longer a husband, a father, a neighbor, a friend. 
 That essential part, on whose account the relationship was formed, 
 has fled. And " in the resurrection, they neither marry nor are 
 given in marriage, but are" in this respect, " as the angels of God 
 in heaven." 
 
 To give this subject its proper consideration, requires that we 
 so discharge the various obligations that result from these relation- 
 ships, as to meet their grand and heavenly design. The husband 
 and the wife should endeavor to promote each other's sanctifica- 
 tion, should exert all the influence that the endearing relationship 
 generates, to produce in each other an entire conformity to God, 
 and thus prepare each other to be happy in the circle of the blessed. 
 The few days that we can do each other good, urges to the utmost 
 despatch in every benevolent design. Parents should admonish 
 and pray for their poor dying children, from whom, in a few days, 
 they must be torn for ever, and children be a blessing to their 
 parents while they are within reach of their kindness. The bro- 
 ther and sister sustain that relationship but for a few days, and 
 must do each other all the good they ever do, very soon. The 
 course, then, that genuine love will pursue is very plain. While 
 my friends are within my reach, I should be their enemy did I 
 not endeavor to promote their salvation, and thus do them ever- 
 lasting good. 
 
 Alas, how many pursue a course precisely the opposite, and are 
 doing all in their power to carry their friends with them down to 
 perdition ! How many husbands exert their influence to prevent 
 the piety, and hinder the prayers, and retard the spiritual improve- 
 ment of their bosom friend ! And how many wives, with the same 
 treacherous kindness, allure their husbands to the ways of death ! 
 Many a parent, a son, a brother, deaf themselves to the voice of 
 mercy, are staining their hands and their garments in the blood of 
 their kindred. And beyond a doubt the great day will hear many 
 
350 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 a curse proceed from the lips of the lost, upon their now nearest, 
 dearest kindred ! On this dreadful subject I can only say, do 
 good, and avoid doing evil, to those who are now related to you, 
 as all their kindred ties will soon be dissolved, and these opportu- 
 nities pass away for ever. We shall doubtless witness against 
 each other in the great day, and it must grieve us, if we feel ten- 
 derly, to apprehend that our own lips may bear against beloved 
 friends that testimony on which their condemnation may be 
 founded. 
 
 3. Death will strip us of all our titles, and of that office, power, 
 and influence which they imply. The magistrate, the judge, the 
 general, and the juror, will yield his office with his life, and with 
 ij his power and his influence. The minister of the gospel, and 
 every officer in the Christian Church, or teacher in our seats of 
 science, or the Sabbath school, must yield his place to some suc- 
 cessor. 
 
 To properly consider this matter is to fill the office we sustain 
 with purity and activity. If it gives us influence, there is nothing 
 for which we are more accountable ; no talent which we can use 
 now to better advantage. If there is a soul brought by such means 
 within our reach, and we can bless that soul, our duty is plain ; 
 and our fearful responsibility incalculable. When by any means 
 the providence of God enlarges our sphere of action, widens the 
 field of our labor, or strengthens the arms of our hands, his crea- 
 tures are to receive the benefit, and his name is to have the praise. 
 
 What a fearful account will many have to give, when they shall 
 be put out of their stewardship ! How have they filled offices, 
 that they might create misery, and exerted an influence in widen- 
 ing and vexing the horrors of the apostacy ! You might almost 
 track them by the blood they spilt, or, to drop the figure, by the 
 vices to which they gave an impulse, by the characters they pol- 
 luted, by the poverty and the tears they generated, and by a long 
 train of untold miseries that still line their track. " Who then is 
 that faithful and wise servant, whom his lord hath made ruler over 
 his household, to give them meat in due season 1 Blessed is that 
 servant, whom his lord, when he cometh, shall find so doing. 
 Verily I say unto you, that he shall make him ruler over all his 
 goods. But and if that evil servant shall say in his heart, My lord 
 delayeth his coming ; and shall begin to smite his fellow-servants, 
 and to eat and drink with the drunken ; the lord of that servant, 
 shall come in a day when he looketh not for him, and in an hour 
 that he is not aware of $ and shall cut him asunder, and appoint 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. . 351 
 
 him his portion with the hypocrites : there shall be weeping and 
 gnashing of teeth." Thus the office we fill may be suddenly 
 vacated, and the account rendered cover us with everlasting shame. 
 
 4. Death will level all distinctions. The king and the peasant 
 will sleep together in the grave, the master and the servant, the 
 man of science and distinction with the untaught and the vulgar. 
 The family who can hardly speak with patience of their unpolished 
 neighbors, and look with contempt upon their rude and illiterate 
 servants, must become a supper for the worm, and must scent as 
 odiously, and rot as rapidly, and perhaps be forgotten about as 
 soon as the innocent objects of their affected disgust. There may 
 be a more splendid funeral. We may hear at the mouth of the 
 tomb a more labored and lying panegyric ; and there may be 
 erected a more splendid, and perhaps a more lasting monument. 
 But a few years will dissolve that monument, will deface its pom- 
 pous inscription, and the bones it covers will appear as unsightly 
 as any skeleton within the enclosures of the cemetery. 
 
 To properly consider this fact, is to remember that it was God 
 who elevated us, and that views us as none the more worthy be- 
 cause of the distinction he has assigned us. It is our wisdom to 
 bo humble and mindful of death. Let us show the world that in 
 our own eyes we are small ; that we can enter the cottage of the 
 peasant familiarly ; can join him, if occasion require, in his coarse 
 and homely meal ; can cheerfully bow with him at the throne of 
 grace ; mingle our counsels and our tears, insensible of any dis- 
 tinction for which we deserve respect, that we are not willing to 
 bestow. We are forbidden to be wise in our own conceits, and 
 are exhorted to condescend to men of low estate. One distinction 
 only will outlive the ravages of death that distinction is holiness. 
 In the sight of God all others are temporary and worthless ; and 
 if not counteracted by the humility of the gospel, will cover us 
 with a deeper contempt, and subject us to a more degraded infamy 
 in the bottomless pit. 
 
 5. Death will strip us of our earthly possessions. The lifeless 
 corpse is not the owner of a farm, or the proprietor of a bond. 
 He cannot even defend from the attack of the ruffian the little spot 
 of earth that contains his ashes and his bones. The hour that 
 strips him of life renders him as poor as at the hour of his birth, 
 and as dependent for the shroud, as, originally, for the swathing- 
 band. 
 
 To properly consider this matter, is to use our wealth for the 
 honor of God, and in lessening the miseries of the apostacy. We 
 
35*2 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 may employ it to support and spread his gospel, to disseminate his 
 word, to feed his poor. Some object of benevolent regard is for 
 ever at our door, some good devised that we may execute, some 
 cause laboring that we may lend our aid. We may have high 
 ideas of our own rights, but we are all the Lord's stewards. He 
 has commanded us to occupy till he come. We must very soon 
 go out of office, and must then give an account of our stewardship, 
 and happy for us if we have made friends of the mammon of un- 
 righteousness, that they may receive us into everlasting habita- 
 tions. But how many, when they shall be called to yield their in- 
 terest, will find that their gold and silver is corrupted, and their 
 garments moth eaten. If they have done any good with their 
 wealth, it was by the merest accident : they meant not so, neither 
 did their hearts think so, and they are seen to repent of all the 
 good they have done, and of nothing else. They have fixed a 
 dying hold upon their farms and their merchandizes, and the day 
 that breaks that hold will be of all other days the most wretched. 
 They have forgotten their latter end, and can be waked from the 
 charm only by that stroke that sunders them from life. 
 
 6. As a distinct thought, I would suggest that death must bring 
 all our schemes to a close. There is in some men a proneness 
 to cast their thoughts ahead, and so interweave their projects, that 
 it would seem they can never find leisure to lie down and sleep in 
 the grave. They never calculate upon closing their concerns. 
 There is scarce a moment, from the beginning of the year till it 
 ends, that finds them sufficiently at leisureno worship God with- 
 out distraction. Some scheme is in its embryo, and some other 
 unfinished. And, finally, many a one is but partially executed, 
 when death throws in its arbitrary and fearful arrest. Then there 
 must be a pause : the jaded spirit must rest, and the body retires 
 with it. Cheerful or reluctant the world must quit its hold, and 
 the stream of thought chill in its channel. 
 
 And this event expected should teach us to limit our views, and 
 to moderate our hopes and wishes. It would be wise to calculate 
 that somewhere not very distant from us, there is opened a grave 
 athwart our track, where we must stop and rest, and beyond which, 
 if we extend our schemes, they but die on our hands, or remain 
 for others to finish. " There is no work, nor device, nor know- 
 ledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither we hasten." And perhaps 
 nothing would so tend to make us lower our hopes, and limit our 
 worldly calculation, as to place the solemnities of our own funeral 
 at but a few months remove from us. If we place it too near no 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 353 
 
 evil could follow j while, if too remotely, a train of disappoint- 
 ments and miseries follow, the weight of which it will take a whole 
 eternity to calculate. 
 
 7. Death will finish our period of usefulness. " It is that night 
 when no man can work." All the good we ever do must be soon 
 done, or is left undone for ever. All the good counsel we ever 
 give, all the prayers we ever make, all the miseries we ever re- 
 lieve, all the progress we shall ever make in the pursuit of truth, 
 and all the honor we shall ever do to God, must be done soon. 
 And it seems to me that no thought is so calculated to wake us 
 to industry. " Whatsoever thy hands find to do, do it with thy 
 might," is the very inference to be drawn from the shortness of 
 time. If any man is a knave, it is he who is willing to die before 
 he has been useful, who is willing to feed upon the bounties of 
 heaven, to gather about him the fruits of the earth, and to lavish 
 them upon his own indolence, and leave God to publish his own 
 praise by other instruments. Our obligation to do good is as un- 
 alienable as the authority of God is binding, or the fear of misery 
 appalling, or the hope of glory inviting. Have we then done all 
 the good we have purposed to do 1 Have we no dying friends to 
 whom we would communicate instruction or comfort before they 
 leave us 1 Is there no object of charity to which conscience may 
 have given some pledge not yet redeemed 1 By the sure and 
 speedy approach of death, we are admonished to haste and finish 
 our work, lest we should leave it for others to neglect as we have. 
 
 8. Death will finish our character, and close our accounts for the 
 judgment. We are probationers for another state, and our char- 
 acter here will decide our condition there. It is believed that life 
 will furnish the materials on which the judgment will proceed, the 
 varied tests of our character, and the reasons of our acquittal or 
 our condemnation. The thoughts and volitions of the dying bed 
 will constitute the closing items of that fearful account which we 
 must render to the judge of all. 
 
 To give this thought its due importance, we should often exa- 
 mine our state, and inquire if we are ready to be judged. Is the 
 Lord Jesus Christ formed in us the hope of glory 1 Shall we ap- 
 pear, if we quit the world this evening, clothed in- his righteous- 
 ness '? Else no works of ours will avail to procure our acceptance, 
 and ruin is as certain as the judgment. 
 
 Haste, then, if you would be esteemed wise, and set your house 
 in order, against the hour of your dissolution. Mortify the deeds 
 of the body, wake the mind to industry, and rouse the heart and 
 
354 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 the conscience to energy of feeling and action in the work of 
 grace. Collect your friends about you, and make one more effort 
 to do them good before every tie that binds them to you is sun- 
 dered. Fill the office assigned you with fidelity, and use your in- 
 fluence to promote the honor of your Redeemer. Cultivate a 
 meek and lowly mind j be familiar with your own worthlessness ; 
 use your wealth for the honor of God,and in doing good to a mise- 
 rable world. Limit your prospects by the grave ; have your work 
 done 5 your character formed for heaven ; your sins forgiven ; and 
 your pollution covered with a Savior's blood. Then death will 
 not surprise you, and the grave will become your refuge and your 
 friend. 
 
 II. To properly consider the circumstances of our latter end is 
 to act wisely. If while we proceed, worldly men, whose every 
 interest is in this world, should draw the inference that they are 
 acting unwisely, and playing the fool with their own best good ; 
 this is precisely the effect we always wish to produce, and shall 
 rejoice to find that they can reason so well on a subject of such 
 amazing importance. Under every sermon men ought to be con- 
 vinced that they are acting a mad and desperate part, while they 
 neglect all the hopes of the life to come, and deposit all their trea- 
 sures on the surface of this perishing world. The man who should 
 place all his fortune in a burning building, or embark with his 
 whole interest in a sinking ship, would not act more unwisely. I 
 remark, 
 
 1. That God has pronounced it wise to consider our latter end, 
 and act with constant and careful reference to the life to come. 
 This is precisely the sentiment of the text, and of many other scrip- 
 tures which pour their light upon the same truth. " If a man live 
 many years, and rejoice in them all, yet let him remember the days 
 of darkness." Said the Lord to Israel, " Oh that thou hadst 
 hearkened to my commandments ! then had thy peace been as a 
 river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea." How often 
 is it said of the wicked, that although they were warned they 
 would not be wise. " I have called, and ye refused ; I have 
 stretched out my hand and no man regarded ; but ye have set at 
 naught all my counsel, and would none of my reproof; I also will 
 laugh at your calamity ; I will mock when your fear cometh. 
 When your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction com- 
 eth as a whirlwind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you : 
 then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer j they shall seek 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 355 
 
 me early, but they shall not find me : For that they hated know- 
 ledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord : they would none 
 of my counsel ; they despised all my reproof : therefore shall they 
 eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own de- 
 vices. For the turning away of the simple shall slay them, and 
 the prosperity of fools shall destroy them. But whoso hearkeneth 
 unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from the fear of evil." 
 
 1 know that we are forbidden to be anxious for the things of to- 
 morrow, but this text, instead of teaching the contrary, teaches 
 the same doctrine. We are not to be anxious for the things of 
 this life, which we may need for our support tomorrow. We are to 
 be " anxious, not for the meat that perisheth, but for that meat which 
 endureth to everlasting life." We are so to use the mammon of 
 unrighteousness, that when we are put out of our stewardship, we 
 may have a friend who will receive us into everlasting habitations. 
 
 Thus God himself, who cannot be mistaken, has declared it wise 
 to look well to our future prospects, and " lay up in store against 
 the time to come, that we may lay hold on eternal life." 
 
 2. The wisdom of such a course is inferred from the fact, that 
 in all other things we consider it indispensable. If we have in 
 view any worldy enterprise, we, as far as possible, anticipate the 
 concern in all its bearings, and weigh, before we meet them, every 
 embarrassment and every obstacle, that may be at war with our 
 purpose. We bring before us the darker side of the picture, as 
 well as the brighter, contemplate every passion, and every interest 
 with which we may come in contact, and press the eye of the mind 
 forward to meet every feature of the probable result. Is one 
 about to leave the place of his nativity, he does not move, if he is 
 wise, till he has carefully surveyed the country toward which he 
 bends his wishes and his hopes, counts the cost of his intended 
 enterprise, weighs the probable advantages of the removal, and is 
 prepared to meet, without surprise, every failure that can lie with- 
 in the reach of probability. Thus worldly men constantly manage 
 the concerns of this life, and the Scriptures assure us, that they 
 are wiser in their generation than the children of light. Would 
 we pursue the same measures relative to the life to come, God 
 would approve. It would be a source of conduct becoming a wise 
 and thinking man. We should then look forward and survey all 
 the circumstances of our departure from this world, the state of 
 our hearts, the probability of our composure, and our acceptance 
 in the hour of death, the ties that must then be broken, the titles 
 that must then be lost, the office that must be resigned, the distinc- 
 
356 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 tions that must then be levelled, the possessions that must be relin- 
 quished, the exertions that must terminate, and the pause that 
 must ensue to all our schemes. We should live with the whole 
 scene before us, and often summon the mind to bear, with all its 
 native energies, upon that most interesting epoch of our history. 
 I knew a man, who, for years, kept his coffin in his chamber, often 
 placed himself in the narrow house, and often contemplated the 
 scenes of his interment, and thus kept himself familiar with the 
 hour of his dissolution. Now should we not, without resorting to 
 such means, practice the same forethought, and thus, if possible, 
 have the terror of death broken, before we are called to the last 
 and desperate contest 1 What argument can be offered why this 
 concern should not be the subject of meditation, rather, far rather, 
 than the erection of a dwelling, or a removal to some distant 
 country. The wise, who go out to meet the bridegroom, will be 
 careful, not only that their lamps are burning, but that there is oil 
 in their vessels with their lamps. 
 
 3. To make death a matter of previous calculation, is necessary 
 to the promotion of our temporal interest, and that of our heirs. 
 If one may die before his plans are executed, and is strongly im- 
 pressed with this truth, he will conceive none but such as another 
 can carry into operation. This would be the dictate of wisdom. 
 He will hold his concerns in such a state of order and arrange- 
 ment, that he can, at a moment's warning, hand over his records 
 and his wealth, to be managed and enjoyed with the smallest pos- 
 sible embarrassment. And such a state of things has always been 
 considered favorable to present interest. And can any thought be 
 so calculated to further this arrangement as the strong impression 
 of a speedy and sudden departure. Let a man keep his concerns 
 in such a state that if death arrest his course, nothing is deranged, 
 nothing obscure, nothing neglected, and he will be the man whom 
 no minor event can distract or destroy. If, then, we would make 
 our calculations merely for the present life, to often contemplate 
 the scenes of death, would further, unspeakably, this one interest. 
 But some may feel that this is an engagement too sordid to have 
 weight on a point so momentous. 
 
 I observe, then, 
 
 4. That to well consider our latter end will tend to forward our 
 preparation for the scenes of death. We all, in a sense, know 
 that we must die ; but this truth makes so little impression, ordi- 
 narily, that we may be said to doubt it. Young says, " All men 
 think all men mortal but themselves." Should a stranger from 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 357 
 
 some world where they never die, glance his eye upon this, he 
 would not have the most distant conception, that we had any fear 
 of such a change. He would see us so managing our concerns, 
 as if we calculated to be the perpetual proprietors of the soil 
 we cultivate, the merchandize we handle, and the dwellings we oc- 
 cupy. 
 
 In this state of things the thoughts of death are excluded, -and 
 consequently all preparation for that hour is deferred. We have 
 too many cares to give death, and hell, and heaven, and the judg- 
 ment, any permanent lodgement in the mind, and too many sublu- 
 nary affections to leave room in the heart for more sublime attach- 
 ments. The course, then, that wisdom would dictate, is plain. 
 Let the mind be emptied of its cares, and let the heart dismiss 
 some of its beloved objects ; that they may be better employed in 
 pondering the scenes, and fixing a grasp upon the objects of a bet- 
 ter life. Thus we should be drawn nearer to the scenes of eter- 
 nity, should feel that its interests demanded our care, and should 
 be led to speed our preparation for a dying hour. We are thus 
 urged to the subject, by all that heaven is worth, by all that is 
 shocking in a hopeless death-bed, and by all that is black, and 
 dark, and dreadful, in the untold horrors of the second death. If 
 we hold an unbroken grasp upon the present life, and the present 
 world, till we have come to the precincts of another, it must not 
 surprise us if our dying lips are heard to utter this melancholy 
 outcry, " The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not 
 saved." We may have our heaven here if we can stumble on such 
 a wretched choice, but then, all beyond is hell ; or we may deposit 
 our treasure in heaven, and in that case gather many of its com- 
 forts on our way thither. 
 
 Wise men have always thought much on the subject of death. 
 Read the history of the patriarchs, and prophets, and apostles, and 
 how often do we see them, as it were, wandering amid the scenes 
 of the tomb. They contemplated the event of death, as worthy 
 to occupy a prominent place in every scheme of life, prepared 
 themselves a sepulchre, and gave commandment concerning their 
 bones, with the same calmness as when they thought of other 
 events. Solomon and David seemed to feel themselves nobly em- 
 ployed in describing the scenes of the dying hour. Locke and 
 Newton, men of the noblest genius, esteemed the present world 
 as but their temporary residence. And if the frequent contempla- 
 tion of a great subject is evidence of a great mind, men may not 
 hope to evince their wisdom by dismissing the subject of death, 
 
358 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 and the grave. Compared with these, all other subjects are small 
 and mean. Am I to drop this body, and enter an unknown world, 
 and find a far different state and different employ ; these are great 
 and grand ideas that deserve all the strength of the mind, and all 
 the energy of the heart in their slow and prayerful contemplation. 
 Does death finish my character, and fix my destiny, and place me 
 unalterably in paradise or perdition ; I have not a care so worthy to 
 occupy my intellect, nor a scene in contemplation on which I so 
 much hang my hopes, and about which cluster affections so wor- 
 thy the dignity of my immortal nature. " that they were wise." 
 You have known cases, when men, occupying the same prison, 
 were under the same sentence of death. You entered their apart- 
 ment on the morning of their execution. One was sporting in his 
 chains, as indifferent to the scene before him as if no crime had 
 been committed, and no judgment had been given. You was ready 
 to presume, that he did not know that his last day had come, and, 
 when undeceived on this point, did you not instinctively, pro- 
 nounce him a fool 1 His fellow sat solitary in the corner of his 
 cell, casting his eye along the page of inspiration, and when he 
 saw you he fixed upon you a look of wishfulness and of agony, and 
 exclaimed, " This is my last day !" Did he not then exhibit a 
 dignity that commanded your tearful respect 1 The one intended 
 to postpone the cares of death till he perished, the other pondered 
 the scene as it approached, and when the last day had come, could 
 think of nothing else. From the one you turned with disgust, the 
 other you honored. Yes, and we have the same impression, when 
 we meet with men of these opposite characters in the streets, that 
 you had when you entered the precincts of that dungeon. The 
 one will not speak nor permit us to speak of any world but this ; 
 the other gladly accompanies us to the death-bed and the judg- 
 ment. The one we honor, and the other we pity. We know that 
 both are condemned by the law of God, and that both must die, 
 and be judged, and have their state unalterably fixed, and live in 
 glory for ever, or lie down in " shame and everlasting contempt." 
 We feel that it would be wise in them to lay these things to heart, 
 and speak of them as amazing realities, and they sink in our esti- 
 mation if we see them reluctant to cast a look beyond the 
 sepulchre. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. Men are sometimes afraid to think of death, presuming that 
 such thoughts are a prelude to its approach. I believe it is often 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 359 
 
 impressed upon their minds, that to converse with the scene would 
 absolutely urge on their dissolution. But we shall die none the 
 sooner, if we often contemplate the solemnities of our departure. 
 Nor will death stay his progress if we push from us all thoughts 
 of his advance. In the counsels of heaven there is an appointed 
 time when we shall receive our arrest, and the places that know 
 us shall know us no more. Why then be afraid to meet the 
 thoughts of futurity, and to converse with the grave. We have a 
 preparation to make. If nothing is yet done, then no other subject 
 should engross the mind till something is. Will a wise man culti- 
 vate his fields, till he has made some effort to have his heart fruit- 
 ful in the affections of the gospel 1 Will he be careful for an es- 
 tate, till he has laid up his treasure in heaven 1 Will he adjust 
 his accounts with men, and feel no concern to settle the quarrel, 
 arid have the debt cancelled, that stands against him on the records 
 of his Maker 1 Will he regard the esteem of men, and make no 
 effort to wipe from his character the almost indelible stigma 
 which sin has stamped upon his moral reputation 1 There is no 
 other concern worth your care if God is your enemy. Be this the 
 first, and be this the only care, till that tremendous controversy is 
 happily adjusted. 
 
 2. Sometimes men are afraid to think of death, because they 
 know that they are not prepared. They are scared at their own 
 condition. I recollect to have seen it stated, that much of the city 
 of Paris is undermined by a quarry, now improved as a cemetery, 
 where moulder the ashes and the bones of its former gay and 
 thoughtless population. Fears have been entertained that it might 
 one day sink into that deep and fearful sepulchre. A slight shock 
 of an earthquake might be sufficient to break the deceitful incrus- 
 tation upon which they revel, and under which they are destined 
 to rot. Lest any should take alarm at their frightful situation, I 
 am told, there is a law of the city forbidding its inhabitants to ex- 
 plore the vault that yawns beneath them. Thus sinners covet the 
 calm that arises from ignorance of their true condition. But blind- 
 ed as they may keep themselves to their real danger, their condi- 
 tion remains the same, and the pit which they may industriously 
 cover still waits to receive them. One would think it more wise 
 to endeavor to know the worst of their case, and if on an impar- 
 tial survey it shall appear desperate, aim to secure, while it is pos- 
 sible, their future safety and blessedness. But be the danger of 
 delay more or less imminent, they still covet a little more sleep, a 
 little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to sleep. If 
 
360 THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 
 
 the result of their delay is perdition, all this danger they intend to 
 risk. 
 
 3. Others, perhaps, refuse to consider their latter end because 
 conscience would then urge them to fly from the wrath to come, and 
 render them unhappy, if they still urged their way to death. Hav- 
 ing by some means or other come to the monstrous conclusion, 
 that religion would render them miserable, they have barred their 
 minds and their hearts against all its claims. Hence every argu- 
 ment, and every thought that may suggest an argument, and every 
 object that may awaken such a thought, are barred from every 
 possible approach to the mind. In this condition no meditations 
 are so painful, as those by which the mind approaches the unseen 
 world, and gently lifts the curtain that hides futurity. If men 
 should act so madly in their worldly concerns, they would merit a 
 cage, a chain, or a guardian. They fly from their best friends, 
 abandon their highest interests, and linger on the shores of death 
 from the impression that to live for ever would render them 
 wretched. * 
 
 4. To all but those who reject a Savior, the meditations of 
 death and the grave are pleasant. Here is a period to all their 
 pains, their toils, their fears, and their doubts. In death they drop 
 this dying body, and leave in the grave the last relics of corrup- 
 tion. All beyond is life, and joy, and immortality. There, for the 
 first time, the good man will have that view of Christ which he has 
 always longed to enjoy, and be himself what he has always wished 
 to be. Hence the good man often finds the pulse of his joy quick- 
 ened by conversing with the grave. To him it appears closely 
 connected with the life and the joys to come. Where the sinner 
 finds nothing but corruption and misery, he gathers hope, and joy, 
 and life. To him, to live is Christ, but to die is gain. How de- 
 lightful when we can thus think of death, divested of its sting, and 
 of the grave as a kind covert from the storm, a shelter and a home 
 for tjje way-worn pilgrim. 
 
 APPLICATION. 
 
 I have called your attention, my dear friends, to this subject, be- 
 cause I know not how soon you or I may yield this transitory life. 
 A few past weeks have made, in many of your families, deep and 
 fearful ravages. God is speaking to us by these events, and the 
 text is the very language they utter. " O that they were wise, 
 that they understood this, that they would consider their latter 
 end." If God is heard when he speaks, it is well ; and if not, he 
 
THE WISE MAN WISE FOR FUTURITY. 361 
 
 will speak again and again. Have we resolved to turn our feet to 
 his. testimonies 1 Will professors of piety closely examine their 
 hearts and their lives, and inquire whether they have been born of 
 God, and are bringing forth fruit meet for repentance 1 May we 
 see prayer in all their families, and piety in their daily conversa- 
 tions ? Will those who have no hope that their state has been 
 altered relax a little their care of the life that now is, and give 
 themselves leisure to attend to the things that belong to their 
 peace, before it be hidden from their eyes 1 Will parents deter- 
 mine to go home, and set their house in order, and prepare to 
 leave their families and their estates for ever 1 May we hope that 
 the close contemplation of the grave, to which we are invited, may 
 urge us all to cleanse our consciences from guilt, to application to 
 God for pardon, and make confession and restitution wherein we 
 have wronged or abused our fellow-men. It will be dreadful to 
 come to the death-bed with a conscience burdened with sin, and 
 feel in that painful hour the miseries of self-condemnation. We 
 all have a conscience, and never is it so likely to gnaw and devour 
 as when some sudden attack of disease shuts us out from all inter- 
 course with the world. Then, if our miseries do not forbid, the 
 busy mind will retrace our past life, and perhaps bring upon that 
 hour the compunction which it should now be our wish to feel, 
 and the anguish which then we shall not know how to endure. 
 
 Is our peace made with God 1 Are we making that use of the 
 gospel which was heaven's design in its publishment 1 Are we 
 becoming sanctified through the truth 1 Or is the gospel more 
 likely to be a savor of death unto death to us, than of life unto 
 life 1 Are there any of our youth who are beginning to inquire 
 after a Savior and a pardon 1 May we hope that believers are 
 feeling as they should do relative to those who are perishing 
 around them 1 Are they staying the hands of their pastor, and 
 pouring into the ears of their Redeemer that effectual, fervent 
 prayer of the righteous, which availeth much. I have hoped, and 
 so have others, that God was about to pour us out a blessing. 
 True, there stand some frightful apprehensions in the way of such 
 a blessing. But God, if he ever returns and leaves a blessing be- 
 hind him, must receive us before we are worthy. There never will 
 be that moment when he will not see enough in us to provoke him 
 rather to destroy us than to save us. Hence our only hope is that 
 he will have mercy upon us, according to his loving kindness, and 
 according unto the multitude of his tender mercies. 
 46 
 
SERMON XXXI. 
 
 THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 
 
 MATTHEW, XI. 12. 
 The kingdom of heaven sufiereth violence, and the violent take it by force. 
 
 I REMEMBER to have been very much affected with a scrap of 
 civil story which I met with in the history of the Greeks' escape 
 from the iron bondage of their Turkish oppressors. After being 
 robbed and plundered some hundreds of years, they at length at- 
 tempted to escape. The enemy had, for some months, closely 
 besieged Missolonghi, and the Grecian band had concluded to sur- 
 render ; but as there was nothing for them but servitude, or death, 
 they finally concluded not to be taken, but to rush into the fort at 
 the desperate moment, and blow themselves up. Their purpose 
 fixed, and the light of Greece about to be extinguished for ever, 
 there was one young man who, with his sister, concluded to watch 
 the favored moment, and rush out of the fort, and sell their lives 
 as dear as possible, and make their attack where the ranks of the 
 foe were the thinnest. They did so ; and the sister being mount- 
 ed upon a mule, fought side by side with her brother, and both 
 were so inspired by their desperation that they hewed themselves 
 a passage, and made their escape, and lived to tell the story. Their 
 settled purpose was to die, sword in hand, or spill all the Turkish 
 blood they might, and live. 
 
 Thus men must determine to put forth, in the effort to reach 
 heaven, all the energy they can muster, and if they do this, they 
 shall live. I suppose this to be the very spirit of the text, which 
 reads in the original, " Agonize to enter in at the strait gate." 
 
 I was similarly affected by a narrative of the escape of a post- 
 man, who, for a ve^ry large reward, attempted to carry a letter 
 across one of the deep glens of Scotland, through an overwhelm- 
 ing northeast storm. He had been, if I remember right, a shep- 
 herd, and fearlessly set out on the enterprise, while many were 
 filled with apprehension for his life, if the storm did not subside. 
 The weather was excessively cold, and the violence of the storm 
 rendered it impossible to see any track of man or beast, through 
 
THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 363 
 
 the whole glen. The only chance of a safe arrival consisted of 
 some knowledge he had of the ground, where he had many a time 
 driven his flocks in summer. But, as he afterward assured us, one 
 may have a very accurate knowledge of the way in summer, while, 
 in a winter storm of snow, at night, the whole way seems like a 
 trackless ocean. It is said that some of those glens in Scotland 
 are so full of snow in winter as not to thaw out in midsummer. 
 
 His courage, as the storm thickened, and the cold increased, 
 would have failed, but at length it became as doubtful whether he 
 could find the way back, as whether he should succeed in crossing 
 the mountain ridge in safety. As he had to cross many a small 
 stream, now filled with snow, he not unfrequently sunk, and wet 
 his feet in the stream, and on bringing them up again to the cold 
 air, they froze, and at length became so disabled that he could rise 
 on his feet no more, and he had to press forward on his knees as 
 well as he could. From some indications, he concluded that he 
 had well nigh crossed the glen, and might, by lifting up his voice, 
 be heard. He cried aloud for help a lost traveler! but cried 
 in vain. At length he became frozen to his knees, and he could 
 only worm himself onward with his hands, for he knew that when 
 he should cease all exertion, he must immediately die, and there 
 was a possibility that his cry might be heard, and he should live. 
 Hence he raised again and again his cry, a lost traveler ! But at 
 length, a little opening of the storm showed a shepherd's cot at 
 hand. He had not missed his way to the cottage of a shepherd 
 which he sought, and easily wormed himself to his very door, and 
 gave the signal that saved his life. His friend opened to him and 
 built a fire, and warmed him into recollection and recovery. 
 
 But if that man had not persevered after he had frozen his feet, 
 and even after he could no longer travel on his lower limbs, but had 
 to worm his way on his elbows, he must have died. Although 
 he was near the shepherd's cot, yet as he did not know his posi- 
 tion, if his resolution had failed for a moment, and exertion had 
 ceased, he must have died. He agonized to live, and his agonizing 
 saved him. And if we will only thus agonize to live for ever, we 
 shall live for ever. 
 
 There is not an enterprise we undertake that requires so much 
 exertion as to reach heaven. Those who conclude that they know 
 enough of the subject already, and that heaven will come as a 
 thing of course, and fold their arms and slumber on, will die in 
 their sins, and never see the King in his beauty. The few years 
 of their probation will slip by before they are aware, and they will 
 
364 THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 
 
 just begin to feel the importance of doing something, when they 
 shall find themselves upon a dying bed, the harvest past, the sum- 
 mer ended, and they unsanctified. The Divine direction is, 
 " Strive to enter in at the strait gate," agonize to enter in. There 
 is here no tameness, nor waiting, nor listlessness, nor indifference. 
 We are to put on the whole armor of God, and force our way to 
 heaven, as men cut themselves a path by dint of prowess, through 
 the ranks of the enemy, and make their escape, when there seems 
 nothing before them but death. Who can you expect to be con- 
 cerned for your salvation, if you care not for it yourself? Who 
 will agonize for your cleansing, and your pardon, and your accept- 
 ance, if you care for none of these things 1 If God ever inter- 
 pose in your behalf, the first thing he will do will be to awaken you 
 to the concerns of your own soul. If you are not now awakened, 
 it is certain you are still in the broad way to destruction. Let me 
 offer a few reasons why you should try to be saved. 
 
 1. You cannot expect to be saved without trying. " The kingdom 
 of heaven," says Christ, " suffereth violence, and the violent take 
 it by force :" implying, as all agree, that if we would be saved, 
 we must make great exertion. 
 
 If we would get to heaven there is a great deal of truth that we 
 must know and believe. We must be acquainted with the charac- 
 ter of God that we may love him ; with the character, offices, and 
 work of Jesus Christ, that we may trust in him j with the nature 
 and operations of the Holy Ghost, that we may feel his sanctifying 
 influence. We must be acquainted with our hearts, or we shall 
 never see the need of their being purified ; and with all the great 
 doctrines of the gospel, or there will be no medium of our cleans- 
 ing. " Sanctify them through thy truth." We must know the 
 Scripture account of heaven, or we cannot wish to be there ; and 
 to learn all this truth will require great exertion. 
 
 We have a great many sins to subdue, and must calculate to 
 wrestle hard for the mastery. Neither pride, nor envy, nor anger, 
 nor vanity, nor ambition, nor lust, nor selfishness, can enter 
 heaven. We must put off all these : " anger, wrath, malice, blas- 
 phemy, filthy communication out of our mouth." These vile 
 affections must all have been subdued when we reach heaven. The 
 warfare is no mean one. And more yet : " we wrestle not against 
 flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against 
 the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wicked- 
 ness in high places." We must fight the good fight of faith, and 
 lay hold on eternal life. 
 
THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 365 
 
 Nor can we enter heaven unless we have all the features of the 
 Divine image : we must " add to our faith, virtue ; and to virtue, 
 knowledge j and to knowledge, temperance j and to temperance, 
 patience ; and to patience, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly- 
 kindness; and to brotherly -kindness, charity." We must be 
 familiar with the exercises of " love, joy, peace, long-suffering, 
 gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." We must 
 " forget those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto 
 the things which are before, and press toward the mark for the 
 prize of the hih calling of God in Christ Jesus." Now, all this 
 implies great exertion, which, if we do not make, we cannot reach 
 the kingdom of God. 
 
 2. Striving to be saved, you have the most kind assurance of suc- 
 cess. The obstructions to your salvation are all removed, on God's 
 part, by the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. God can now be 
 u just, and the justifier of him that believeth." " Mercy and truth 
 are met together, righteousness and peace embrace each other." 
 If you seek wisdom " as silver, and search for her as for hid trea- 
 sure," you shall " understand the fear of the Lord, and find the 
 knowledge of God." " He that seeketh findeth, and to him that 
 knocketh it shall be opened." And hence the kind invitation, 
 " Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while 
 he is near." " Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous 
 man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord and he will have 
 mercy upon him, and to our God for he will abundantly pardon." 
 
 Sinner, as God is true, who has given all these assurances and 
 promises, it will be your own fault if you are not saved ; and you 
 will have, to torment you in the future world, the consciousness 
 that you chose darkness rather than light, because your deeds 
 were evil. You might have lived in heaven, had you not despised 
 the mercy offered you, and counted yourself unworthy of everlast- 
 ing life. When was it ever known that a sinner made any suitable 
 exertions to be saved, and still was lost 1 Among all their unrea- 
 sonable complaints of perdition, none ever had occasion to say, 
 " I went to the Savior, at his invitation, and believed the promises, 
 and had assurances of pardon, and hope of heaven, and yet am 
 lost !" No ! not one of the spirits in prison can have any such 
 alleviation of his torment as the thought that he perished through 
 the failure of a Savior's promise. Why then will you not be saved 1 
 God will glorify himself by you, either in your destruction or sal- 
 vation, and he commands you to choose life. But you must 
 choose now " now is the accepted time, now is the day of salva- 
 
366 THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 
 
 tion." If you will not believe, the sin and the ruin will be your 
 own. 
 
 3. You should try to be saved, because, with a heavenly temper, 
 you can be more useful in life. How much can you do to induce 
 men to respect the name of God, and obey his law, and honor his 
 government, and keep his Sabbaths, and revere his sanctuary, and 
 obey his gospel. You can set an example to men of all the duties 
 of piety, and induce others, by your godly conversation, to glorify 
 your Father in heaven, and thus become a light of the world. You 
 can help to strengthen Christian affection, and bind into a still 
 closer and lovelier union the members of the body of Christ. You 
 can aid their joy, and promote their sanctification and their use- 
 fulness. You can set an example of the moral virtues, and by your 
 conduct and precepts, elevate public sentiment, till a great amount 
 of the misery that falls to the lot of sinners around you shall be 
 cured or alleviated. And when saved yourself, you can, by God's 
 blessing, induce other sinners to fly for refuge, and lay hold on 
 the hope set before them in the gospel. But none of this can it 
 be hoped you will do, till you are saved yourself. 
 
 4. You should try to be saved, because you could be so useful in 
 heaven. God has given you a mind, and if not now the most bril- 
 liant, it might perhaps be such in heaven. The rough block of 
 marble may embosom the most beautiful specimens of polished 
 and useful workmanship. Your mind, could it once be placed in 
 the school of Christ, and afterward in heaven, might claim, for 
 aught you know, a blessed elevation among its ransomed choirs. 
 Unclog it, and none can say but it may yet vie with angelic pow- 
 ers. And God might then employ it, we know not how, in the 
 loftiest enterprise. We do not believe that heaven will be a place 
 of idleness. Some new anthem may perpetually elicit more de- 
 light through all the heavenly courts. Some new means of doing 
 good to that world, or this, or some other, may from time to time 
 arrest the attention of angels, and secure the co-operation of all 
 the holy assembly. Such, we may suppose, was the visit of Ga- 
 briel to Daniel ; and such the song of angels, heard by the watch- 
 ful shepherds, at the birth of Christ. None can say that the Re- 
 deemer may not employ, in administering the government of this 
 world, the very beings he has redeemed from it with his blood. O 
 sinner ! we regret that you should be lost, for we know not how 
 useful you might be in heaven. 
 
 5. You should try to be saved also, because you could be so 
 happy in heaven. Even in this poor world there is enjoyment. 
 
THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 367 
 
 How much greater will be our bliss in heaven, where all obstruc- 
 tions to our happiness will be removed. There will be no unhal- 
 lowed passions to be excited. No pain will there arise from anger, 
 wrath, malice, envy, ambition, covetousness, pride, vanity, lust, 
 jealousy, or revenge. There will be no natural body to hunger, 
 thirst, faint, and tire ; to suffer pain from frost, or heat, or famine, 
 or pestilence, or wound, or bruise, or mutilation, or death. There 
 will be no foe to hurt your character, your interest, your feelings, 
 or your person ; no rival to hate, or inferior to despise. There 
 will be in heaven no .sun to scorch, or storm to destroy, or moon 
 or sun to be eclipsed, or sky to be clouded. Suppose all this, and 
 how much of life's misery is gone. 
 
 Add now to the removal of these obstructions every positive 
 good that an Almighty God can bestow ; a mind fully illuminated, 
 a heart the seat of every kind and holy affection, a conscience ex- 
 onerated from guilt, an imagination unlimited in its power of con- 
 ception, a judgment that can never err. Let there be presented 
 to the admiring view all that is lovely, all that can be included in 
 the golden city, the rivers, and the tree of life, the banquet of the 
 Lamb, " the far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," the 
 everlasting song, the uninterrupted rest, and the society for ever 
 of holy men and holy angels. All this would render you so happy, 
 that we cannot endure the thought of your being lost. Try then 
 to be saved, that you may be happy in heaven. 
 
 6. What others have done for your salvation should induce you 
 to try to be saved. The plan for your redemption was laid in 
 heaven. To accomplish it, the Son of God became incarnate, 
 lived a life of sorrow, and died on the cross, and now ever lives to 
 make intercession for you. How much he must have cared for 
 your soul ! In the achievement of the same plan of mercy, the 
 Holy Spirit was sent from heaven to awaken and sanctify you. 
 He has often strove with you, has produced alarm in your con- 
 science, and perhaps deep conviction ; has given the truth some- 
 times a fixed lodgment by the side of your heart. Thus has he 
 evinced his readiness to save you. And his ministers, too, have 
 long and earnestly pleaded with you. In many a sermon, unless 
 you have absented yourself from the house of God, they have 
 pleaded with you to " flee from the wrath to come, and lay hold 
 on everlasting life." And they have sometimes felt an agony for 
 your soul, that, it would seem, could not be denied. They have 
 prayed for you many a time in the midnight hour, and then have 
 come from their closets and wept over you and all, it seems, to 
 no purpose. 
 
368 THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 
 
 It may be that a pious parent has long cared for your soul 
 Through the fear that you would be lost, that faithful friend may 
 have wished many a time that you had never been born. O ! could 
 you have known the anxiety and the agony of that parent, while 
 watching over the slumbers of your cradle, then you would try to 
 be saved. 
 
 And it may be that a pious brother, or sister, or wife, is at this 
 moment pleading at the throne of grace for your salvation. And 
 will you not then care for yourself, and try to be saved 1 All this 
 care for you and you none for yourself ! 
 
 7. You should try to be saved, because you must be infinitely 
 degraded in hell. You are to remember, that you were made a lit- 
 tle lower than the angels ; that you have a nature capable of being 
 elevated to a close companionship with them, and of pouring forth 
 a praise as noble, and glowing with a love as ardent as theirs. 
 And now to think of sinking with such a nature down to hell, 
 of being the companion of devils, and of employing your lips 
 in unceasing blasphemy, how gloomy the conception ! There 
 will be, in your case, the shame of being convicted, and that be- 
 fore assembled worlds, and of being banished into outer darkness, 
 where is weeping and gnashing of teeth. And your fall from the 
 hope of heaven must be known. You must be for ever congre- 
 gated with the meanest of your race, the thief, the robber, the 
 murderer, the swindler, the liar, the drunkard^ and the whole mass 
 of convicts. And your employment will be suited to the temper 
 of your heart, and all restraint removed. Hence despair, and blas- 
 phemy, and malice, and revenge, will be the habitual and the de- 
 graded exercise of the damned. 
 
 Hell will be the grand prison of the universe, where will be col- 
 lected the incorrigibly wicked, the smoke of whose torment will 
 ascend up for ever and ever, marking out the place as the most ac- 
 cursed spot in all the dominion of God. The ignominy of such an 
 imprisonment, and such a damnation, if there were no positive 
 punishment inflicted, no quenchless fire, nor never-dying worm, 
 would be more than can be endured. " Can thine heart endure, or 
 can thine hands be strong in the day that I shall deal with thee 1" 
 
 8. You should try to be saved, because the most bitter reflections 
 await you if you are not saved. You will reflect how much was 
 done to save you ; how much the Savior did , how much the Fa- 
 ther did ; how much the Spirit did ; how much your Christian 
 friends did all to no purpose. You will reflect how many ser- 
 mons, and prayers, and tears, and entreaties, and Sabbaths, and 
 
THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 369 
 
 sacraments, and admonitions of conscience, and revival seasons, 
 .and alarming events of Providence, have spent their force upon 
 you to no purpose, hardening you, when perhaps they might have 
 saved you. 
 
 You will reflect how easy were the terms of salvation ; that you 
 were offered life if you would only believe ; that no truth was re- 
 quired to be believed but that of which you had evidence, and no 
 duty to be done but that which would have been pleasant; that 
 your life, if you had believed, would have been more happy, your 1 
 death tranquil, and your eternity glorious. You will reflect how 
 nigh you came to the kingdom of God, and was lost. Born in a 
 Christian land, of Christian parents, the Bible early in your hand, 
 and you as early taught to read it, given up to God from your 
 birth, instructed carefully in the truth, and furnished with the Sab- 
 bath, and all its holy appendages it will seem to you, for ever, 
 that you sunk down to perdition from the very threshold of heaven. 
 
 You will reflect how many, with no more, and perhaps fewer ad- 
 vantages than you, have escaped to heaven. Your brother or 
 sister, it may be, was saved, while you were lost. Some, perhaps, 
 your immediate friends, of wicked families, and having nothing 
 like the advantages that you had, have reached heaven, while you 
 have been lost. Shall these bitter reflections prey upon you like 
 a famine, or a pestilence, for ever 1 Will you not try to be saved 1 
 "Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; for many, I say unto you, 
 shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able." 
 
 9. You should attempt NOW to be saved, because the longer you 
 postpone, the less is the probability that the attempt will ever be made. 
 Whatever are the reasons of the postponement, they are reasons 
 furnished by depravity, and will, of course, increase with the 
 growth of sin. If it be enmity to the kind and lovely Savior, it 
 will multiply with your years, and ripen with your age. If his 
 eternal excellences have never yet won your heart if the glories 
 that have attracted the gaze, and waked the song of angels, and 
 been echoed in notes of victory through the caverns of death, 
 have produced no thrill of joy in your soul, how can you hope 
 that, as his glories shall become brilliant, and the notes of his con- 
 quest shall wax louder and louder, your spirit will become sub- 
 dued 1 Will it not rise in its wrath, and envenomed at length like 
 the serpent that has plunged its fangs into its own life-stream, seal 
 its own damnation, and lie down in fire 1 Wait not till heaven has 
 raised another shout of victory ; stay not till Christ has conquered 
 the gods of China, or quelled the demons of Ham's dark empire, 
 lest his glories should pierce your soul through with the poisoned 
 47 
 
370 THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 
 
 arrows of everlasting chagrin. O wait not to have the Hero of 
 Calvary put forth any hidden glory of his name ! Devils will taunt 
 the sinner that waits for this, and is damned. His laurels wave 
 already over their dark empire, and their king quails at His power, 
 and dies anew, whenever another, and still another victory is sung. 
 10. Or do you postpone embracing the Savior, because you have 
 not yet had your fill of sin ? Surely it has made you miserable 
 enough. Your satiety, after a scene of pleasure, has sometimes 
 been almost insupportable. When it threatened your health, or 
 your character, or your business, to continue any longer in sin, how 
 indescribable have been your sensations of regret ! You wished 
 you had never loved sin, or learned to sin ; you wished that your 
 parents had early restrained you ; you regretted that you had ever 
 formed an acquaintance with that man who tempted you to sin ; 
 that you had ever been in that circle whose bewitching snares 
 have caught you and held you ; that ever you visited that scene 
 of dissipation, or went to that house of death. How horrid, to be 
 filling up life with these regrets, and to pore unavailingly over 
 what should be at once repented of and abandoned ! How grovel- 
 ling, to be howling upon your bed, when, if you would only be in- 
 genuous enough to repent, you might be lifting up your voice in 
 praise, and be singing on your way to the grave, songs sweet as 
 angels use. The meanness of sin will render it impossible that 
 the lost should have any respect for themselves, or for each other 
 in the world of death ! How utterly vain the expectation, that 
 there shall be in that world anything worthy to be called society, or 
 kindness, or friendship ! 0, it will be all a mass of despair, and 
 chagrin, and. hatred, and shame; when, if men would only be wise 
 now, and accept the offered Savior, all this might be exchanged 
 for heaven, where kindred spirits might bask in everlasting sun- 
 shine through all the years of the existence of the unchanging God. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. But why does God make it so difficult to get to heaven ? 
 Does he delight to put poor human nature upon such a pain- 
 ful effort with no specific design 1 We suppose that God has 
 a wise and good design, and that his design may be obvious. To 
 make such a mighty effort to reach heaven will greatly enhance 
 the joy of being saved. O, when the effort is made, is over, and 
 the object won, with how much joy may believers look back on 
 all the way that God led them to his kingdom. When they shal) 
 see the wilderness all trodden over, every sin and every foe sub- 
 dued, and every snare escaped, and look upon the heavenly route 
 
THE DESPERATE EFFORT. 371 
 
 from the heights of Zion, they will sing the more joyfully to the 
 honor of him who led them by a right way, that they might go to 
 a city of habitation. How joyfully would that Grecian pair raise 
 among their countrymen, the long and loud Te Deum to the God 
 of armies ! when there had so few escaped and yet they had es- 
 caped, and when they had found themselves the only two who had 
 sold their lives at any price, and they had brought life away with 
 them in all its vigor and in all its youth, life to them would seem 
 more lovely. 
 
 2. If we have taken joyfully the spoiling of our goods ; knowing 
 in ourselves that we have in heaven a better and an enduring sub- 
 stance, and through much tribulation have come where that trea- 
 sure is, and find it ample and abiding, heaven will always seem 
 worth more for the cost of it. We always value most what cost 
 us most 5 and if heaven cost us more than everything beside, we 
 shall proportionally esteem it. When the whole family of the .re- 
 deemed shall have vied with each other through ten thousand ages, 
 in the effort to see which can set the highest price upon the ex- 
 ceeding weight of glory that shall have been poured in upon their 
 glorified spirits, they will not have reached the price or told the 
 value. Its price is far above rubies. One will value that world 
 highly, because, in competitorship with a million of his generation 
 he out-did them all in the effort to keep fanned up the flame of 
 holy love in his heart, which held him ready for a renewed conflict 
 on the bed of death with that enemy who goes about as a roaring 
 lion, seeking whom he may devour. Another and another will 
 throw into their song of victory the joy of an exemplary youth, 
 made so by the constant application of the Holy Ghost, which rais- 
 ed them above the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eye, and the 
 pride of life. 
 
 One lovely mother will sing of a reviving season, in the even- 
 ing-time of life, which threw by, and passed over, the storms that 
 had gathered about the place of her setting sun, and gave her joy 
 in death. Thus one, and another, and another, when they shall 
 have fought the good fight, and finished their course, and kept the 
 faith, and have found laid up for them in heaven, a crown of life, 
 will unite to say in one eternal chorus, God is the King ! The one 
 hundred and forty and four thousand that have washed their robes 
 and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, will grace the 
 marriage supper, and utter in a long and loud response, " This is 
 the Lord, we have waited for him and he will save us ; this is our 
 God ! we have waited for him and we will be glad and rejoice in 
 his salvation." 
 
SERMON XXXII. 
 CONCIO AD CLERUM. 
 
 2 TIMOTHY I. 8. 
 Be thou a partaker of the afflictions of the gospel. 
 
 MOST other parts of Paul's instructions to Timothy, have been, 
 at times, the foundation of address to God's ministers ; but this, to 
 my knowledge, never. The opinion is, that Paul wrote this epistle 
 some twelve or fifteen years after the date of the first, near the 
 close of life, and while a prisoner at Rome. It contains his dying 
 advice, given in view of the assurance that his departure was at 
 hand. Timothy was his own son in the gospel, and he expresses 
 for him a peculiar affection, and deals out paternal advice, in a 
 dress the most kind and amiable. 
 
 The exhortation in the text is somewhat singular. Did Timothy 
 need to be exhorted to become a partaker in the afflictions of the 
 gospeH Did it depend on his choice, whether he would, or would 
 not, be a partaker in those afflictions 1 Was it desirable that he 
 stand ready and willing to suffer 1 Was it honorable or necessary 
 to be afflicted in the discharge of hi s duty, if he might escape I 
 To all these questions the text implies an answer in the affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 It is more than possible that he saw Timothy tempted to deny 
 his father in Christ, now that he was in bonds. The enemy would 
 tauntingly say, This is the proselyte, and the pupil of that Paul 
 who has gone to Rome in bonds. Hence Timothy, as Peter on a 
 former occasion, would be in danger of saying I know not the man. 
 He might thus hope to escape the cross, and might fear that other- 
 wise chains might be fastened on himself, as a man equally dan- 
 gerous with his master. Hence he exhorts him as in the text. 
 
 But the exhortation is not of private interpretation, and will ap- 
 ply to the people of God, and especially his ministers, in this age. 
 as readily as in any one that has gone by. In what follows I shall 
 notice some of the afflictions of the gospel, explain the import of 
 the exhortation, and urge upon the ministers of Jesus Christ the 
 duty of becoming voluntary partakers in these afflictions. 
 
CONCIO AD CLERUM. 373 
 
 I. I am to notice some of the afflictions of the gospel. In doing 
 this, however, I shall rather dwell on the causes of these afflic- 
 tions. 
 
 1. The ministers of Jesus Christ must form and defend an un- 
 popular character. I am aware that efforts have been made to show 
 that the ministers of the gospel, and the people of God generally, 
 need have nothing about them peculiar, and I am aware, too, that 
 many, professing godliness, have made the experiment of being, in 
 their whole deportment, what the world are. And it cannot be 
 denied, that they have been, in that case, greatly caressed by the 
 world. " If ye were of the world the world would love his .own." 
 Can we but flatter as adroitly, and dress as gaily, and joke as fa- 
 miliarly, and laugh as loudly, as the most thoughtless of the mul- 
 titude, they will cease their complaints. With the minister of the 
 gospel who can shine in the party, and advocate the dance, and 
 make the game innocent, and the theatre chaste, and every other 
 vain amusement harmless, the world will have no quarrel. Not 
 the most profane, or proud, or gay, or voluptuous, will have any 
 fault to find with him, when he ceases to reproach them. Let him 
 in company keep back the subject that would give offence, and 
 suppress the dissent that would be unwelcome, and bless whom 
 the world blesses, and rebuke whom they abominate, and the world 
 will pronounce him a fine, a charming fellow. Let him associate 
 with the gluttonous man, and the wine-bibber, and not carry to 
 their house and their table, the hard doctrine, and the pointed re- 
 buke, and the distinct condemnation, and the zeal for his heavenly 
 Father's honor, which characterized the sociality of Jesus Christ, 
 and they will agree to love him. 
 
 And I have not my eye now fixed on the ministry in its gross- 
 est aspect ; a ministry whose whole piety is a kind of charity that 
 was not born in heaven, and has neither creed nor conscience. I 
 do not associate such men with the ministers of Jesus Christ. But 
 in that better school, where truth is held in high estimation, and 
 charity is not sightless, and fellowship has gospel boundaries, it 
 is feared that men may be found who are at great pains to avoid 
 the afflictions of the gospel. If they speak of hell, it is with an 
 apology ; if they describe a bad heart, they " hope better things 
 of their audience ;" and if they are driven to rebuke a vice, they 
 do it so tamely as to make no impression. Hence the world love 
 them, and feed them, and rally round them, and admire their 
 prayers, and their oratory, and enter into close leagues of friend- 
 ship with them. But whether such was the character of his min- 
 
374- , CONCIO AD CLERUM. 
 
 istry, who came from heaven to publish salvation, demands a 
 doubt. 
 
 The ministers of Jesus Christ must form an unpopular charac- 
 ter. They must be more serious, more holy, more circumspect, 
 more watchful, and prayerful, and heavenly-minded, than the world 
 would choose to have them. They must adhere more tenaciously 
 to the truth, to sound maxims and correct principles, than other 
 men ; must be emphatically " a chosen generation, a royal priest- 
 hood, a holy .nation, a peculiar people." The traits of character 
 which the world are prepared to eulogize, they are obligated to 
 lash, and equally obligated to have on the very traits that give the 
 world offence. They must be in character and conduct like their 
 Master, having a conscience that will not bend to the exigencies 
 of the moment ; a" sternness of virtue that cannot allow iniquity a 
 smile, a fixedness of sentiment that looks every unhallowed maxim 
 into shame, a regard to the Divine glory that can sometimes wield 
 the surge of rebuke, and drive iniquity from its presence. They 
 must have on a holiness of character that can move on through 
 the ranks of sin with unbending course ; and command, by its self- 
 respect, the reverence of the very men who would exterminate so 
 stern an integrity. 
 
 And the character they cultivate in themselves they must sus- 
 tain in others. The members of their churches must know that 
 living as Christ would have them, they shall receive no reproach 
 from their pastors, for not becoming, in the perverted meaning of 
 the apostle, all things to all men. 
 
 They may still put on all the amiableness of the gospel, and 
 show out the benevolence, the meekness, the kindness, the hospi- 
 tality, and the ardency of friendship, that piety requires ; and, 
 finally, leave nothing to give offence, but the sternness of virtue. 
 But in conjunction with these, there must be, in the ministers of 
 Jesus Christ, traits of character, .that the men of the world will 
 not admire. Hence none of the prophets, nor apostles, nor Jesus 
 Christ himself, could show kindness enough to atone to the world 
 for their holy singularity. They partook largely in the afflictions 
 of piety, and went most of them to heaven from the cross, the 
 sword, or the flames. 
 
 2. The ministers of Jesus Christ must teach unpopular doctrines. 
 They must show the very men who feel themselves to be whole, 
 and in no need of a physician, that they are poor, and wretched, 
 and miserable, and blind, and naked. They must exhibit the atone- 
 ment of Christ to the very men who would perish rather than trust 
 
CONCIO AD CLERUW. 375 
 
 in him, as the only foundation of their everlasting hopes. The 
 men who are prepared to say, What lack I yet 1 must be pressed 
 with the necessity of being born again. The very men who can 
 see little or nothing wrong in their whole life, must be assured, 
 that except they repent they must all likewise perish. And the 
 decrees, and the sovereignty of God, that so exalt Jehovah, and 
 so debase the rebel, must be urged upon the very men who have 
 so little confidence in their Creator, that they would not place the 
 smallest temporal interest at his disposal. And how can such 
 doctrines be popular with such men 1 
 
 I know you will refer me to facts, and inquire, Why are there 
 so mUny congregations who have an orthodox ministry, and still 
 all has been harmony for half a century, while yet there have been 
 few or no conversions 1 In this case I have an answer that per- 
 fectly satisfies me. The truth has never reached the conscience. 
 It has been so tamely exhibited, that men have slept under it. 
 Now it is the duty of Christ's ministers to cure this insensibility, 
 and in doing it, just as sure as God is true, there must be given a 
 new heart, or the unwelcome intruder will be made a partaker in 
 the afflictions of the gospel ? Compel a stupid man to feel the 
 force of his own creed, and he will be as much offended as when 
 you press upon his conscience doctrines which he has long hated, 
 and long since discarded. 
 
 I know there is a ministry which I dare not term heretical, but 
 which gives no offence by its doctrines. The fact is, that the 
 doctrines, though not denied, are never distinctly exhibited. Men 
 care not what they hear, nor what believe, if they may be permitted 
 not to feel nor act. Only suffer them to sleep on, and you may 
 lecture from the Shaster, the Koran, or the Bible. Let it suffice 
 that they be quiet and orthodox, and they care not if it be the 
 quiet of death, or the cold orthodoxy of the grave. But let the 
 truth drop from the lips of an honest ministry, and be pressed 
 home with energy, upon " consciences that have not been sprinkled 
 from dead works to serve the living God," and that ministry will 
 soon become conversant with the afflictions of the gospel. 
 
 3. The minister of Jesus Christ must urge upon the world un- 
 popular duties. It is a great mistake that men are any less dis- 
 pleased with the duties than with the doctrines of the gospel. Let 
 duty be fully explained, and pressed home upon the conscience 
 with energy, till men shall see no retreat from its obligations, and 
 no press of doctrine, the most offensive, can give any keener pain, 
 or be more sure, where God does not seal the word by his Spirit, 
 
376 CONCIO AD CLERUM. 
 
 to awaken the keenest displeasure. Make the man who never 
 prays see the impiety of his neglect, and repeat to him that note 
 of alarm, " Pour out thy fury upon the heathen, and upon the fami- 
 lies that call not upon thy name ;" and you will soon discover that 
 he feels himself as uncomfortably urged, whenever this duty is 
 named, as when a doctrine which he does not believe, or does not 
 love, is pressed upon his faith. Urge upon the covetous man the 
 duty of giving liberally, no matter what the object, and he will 
 writhe more under the press of this duty, than when urged to 
 believe the most odious doctrine. Urge home upon the conscience, 
 no matter what duty, that men are unwilling to perform, and you 
 offend them equally, as when you teach a doctrine they are reluc- 
 tant to believe, and in either case draw upon yourself the afflictions 
 of the gospel. 
 
 But the duty, as well as the doctrine, may be so tamely and so 
 prudently named, as to produce no sensations. If men are asleep, 
 and you do not so lift up your voice as to wake them, they care 
 not whether the babbler utters a duty or a doctrine. But this would 
 not have satisfied Paul. If he might have preached in Athens the 
 true gospel, unmolested, but must have seen that people continue 
 their idolatries, he would have felt that he was doing nothing. It 
 is doubted whether doctrine or duty was ever urged home with 
 gospel energy, but the result was, the believing of the doctrines, 
 and the doing of the duty, or the great offence of the man upon 
 whose irritated conscience they had been urged with unwelcome 
 vehemency. Hence, again, the afflictions of the gospel. 
 
 4. The minister of Jesus Christ must advocate in his Church an 
 unpopular discipline. Here let us stop to solve one problem. The 
 men of the world are perpetually reproaching professors of godli- 
 ness for their sin. Urge religion upon them, and they will reply, 
 " I am in as fair a way for heaven as your Christians." And often 
 we find it no easy matter to repel the charge. We lie down under 
 it, and reply, " Truly there are men, without the pale of the 
 Church, as generous, as pitiful, as public spirited, as hospitable, 
 as quiet, as peaceable, as kind, as neighborly, as some within." 
 " We know," they will say, " that we do not pray as often, as 
 loud, and a^ long, as some of your hypocritical professors, but all 
 this we more than balance by our other virtues." 
 
 Now from all this it would seem their wish, that the Church 
 were more pure. Surely they would have reformed the very 
 thing they complain of. But the very moment the Church com- 
 mences a course of discipline, with any wayward brother, the 
 
CONCIO AD CLERUM. 377 
 
 9 
 
 world arms itself against all their efforts. And often is there 
 raised without the Church, an opposition that would deter the 
 Church from attempting to purify her fellowship. And the minis- 
 ter of Jesus Christ is understood to be on the side of the Church's 
 purity. Hence he becomes the butt of rebuke, with all those who 
 would shield the offender ; and should he be passive, even to a 
 fault, still he must bear the whole blame of the process, and be- 
 come often the scape-goat that bears away into the wilderness the 
 sins of the whole brotherhood. Thus he becomes a large par- 
 taker in the afflictions of the gospel. 
 We are now prepared, 
 
 II. To say that the exhortation of the text implies two things. 
 
 1. That we so minister in our holy office, as to make sure to 
 ourselves all the trials that faithfulness, in a world like ours, must 
 incur. We must form the very character the ungodly disapprove, 
 nor be willing to lack its most odious ingredient. We may not 
 lay aside for an hour, that sobriety, that spirit of dissent from 
 error, that honesty which holds the tongue the sure index of the 
 mind, that elevation of the affections which shrinks from a supreme 
 engrossment in the conversation and the cares of the life that 
 now is. 
 
 We may not conceal the features of the new man, and be reli- 
 gious in secret only, or when in the company of God's people. 
 The world would agree to this. Can we but act the mere gentle- 
 man in their society, and fawn and flatter as they do, and ever 
 smile and be happy, whatever the conversation, or sentiments, or 
 temper, or men with whom we come in contact, this would satisfy 
 them, and we might be as religious as we please in our bed-cham- 
 ber. But such was not the course of Jesus Christ, nor yet of 
 Paul, even when he became all things to all men. There must go 
 with the man of God, visible as the features of his face, the strong 
 outlines of his heavenly character. After all the allowance has 
 been made that can be, for the difference of character and conduct 
 that may exist between the disciple and his Lord, still, in a world 
 like ours, all gay, and thoughtless, and dissipated, we are obli- 
 gated to put on so much of the Lord Jesus Christ, and wear the 
 lineaments of his image so prominent as to ensure us a share in 
 the reproach that fell on him, and must help others to do the 
 same; and must pour the whole mass of our influence into a 
 mighty effort to make the whole Church of God as unlike the 
 world as possible. 
 
 48 
 
378 CONCIO AD CLERUM. 
 
 We must feel obligated to draw upon ourselves the reputation 
 of sustaining an unpopular creed. We are obligated, I know, to 
 give offensive truth the most unoffending aspect, and may exercise 
 all the wisdom we can summon in descrying the Tempora molia 
 fandi; but when all this is done, still the whole truth, first or 
 last, must come out, fully and plainly, and, when distinctly seen, 
 will not be approved by ungodly men. And the odium felt toward 
 the truth, will be promptly transferred to the man who enforces it 
 upon the irritated conscience. 
 
 Now the faithful minister of Jesus Christ may not attempt to 
 shun the trials that will thus ensue. It must be his wish, as soon 
 as possible, to give the truth all that plainness of exposition, and 
 point of application, which will ensure the trials that follow. He 
 may not keep the offensive doctrines out of view, nor exhibit his 
 creed obscurely, nor throw in any salvo to prevent the truth from 
 taking a rank hold, or so conduct that his daily lightness shall 
 neutralize his Sabbath-day efforts ; else he wickedly shuns the 
 afflictions of the gospel. And with the same decision must he 
 urge the unpopular duties of the gospel. He may not keep them 
 out of view, nor present them obscurely, nor invent excuses for 
 neglecting them, nor lavish his smiles upon the man who uniformly 
 stands aloof from them. The precepts of Jesus Christ in all their 
 self-denying, and expensive, and laborious, and holy, and unpopular 
 attitude, must be promptly exhibited, as claiming the obedience 
 of a world. And the duties of the Bible thus fearlessly exhibited, 
 will as surely convert men, or offend them, as the doctrines. The 
 matter of fact is, that the precepts imply the doctrines, as well as 
 the doctrines the precepts ; and the man who urges home upon the 
 conscience the hated duty, no less than he who exhibits the odious 
 creed, must calculate, unless the disciple be above his Lord, to be 
 a partaker of the afflictions of the gospel. 
 
 And he must be known to be the advocate of a watchful disci- 
 pline in the Church of Christ. He may be as adroit as possible in 
 dividing the odium with the members of his Church, it should be 
 their wish to be partakers with him, but when he has lain hid, and 
 others have operated, as long as possible, the hour will at length 
 come, in every bad case of discipline, when he must have an 
 opinion of his own, and express that opinion, and make proselytes 
 to that opinion, and it will be against the conduct of the offender, 
 and will draw upon him the odium of one who needed the rod of 
 discipline to make him decent. And the offender has friends who 
 
CONCIO AD CLERUM. 379 
 
 will enlist with him, and feel with him, and hate with him, the min- 
 ister of Christ, who led on his Church to the act which covers the 
 Christian character of the offender with a cloud. Indeed it would 
 be wrong, if it might be so, that a Church of Christ should bear, 
 without the countenance of their pastor, the reproach of having 
 administered a cruel censure upon a professed follower of Jesus 
 Christ : Hence no escape from the afflictions of the gospel. 
 
 2. The injunction of the text implies, that when our brethren in 
 the ministry have taken the course now described, and have drawn 
 upon themselves the afflictions of the gospel, we stand by them, 
 and defend them, and encourage them, and take, as far as may be, a 
 part of their trials upon ourselves. I have suspected this to be the 
 burden of the exhortation. The aged apostle exhorts Timothy 
 not to be ashamed of the testimony of the Lord, or Paul his pri- 
 soner, but to be a partaker of the afflictions of the gospel, accord- 
 ing to the power of God, He must participate in the trials endured 
 by his Father in Christ for his faithfulness in the dispensations of 
 the gospel. 
 
 Let it not be said that the offence of the cross has ceased. I 
 know that Christ's ministers are not now in danger of the same 
 kind of persecutions as in the days of Paul. They do not fear 
 dungeons, or faggots, or chains, or wild beasts, or the bloody cross. 
 They may apprehend other woes however, as the lash of slander, 
 the want of bread, the permanent enjoyment of a peaceful home, 
 and the means of educating their offspring. And who would not 
 avoid these by a more desperate effort than would be made to es- 
 cape death itself. I know, too, that faith can lift the mind above 
 a host of trials, and render the hour of desperate onset a time of 
 triumph, and make these light afflictions, which are but for a mo- 
 ment, issue in a more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. I 
 know, too, that many ministers, not reputed unfaithful, escape the 
 trials I speak of. There are no pointed exhibitions of truth, no 
 extra efforts to save men from death, no energy of discipline, no- 
 thing to break in upon the dead calm by which a multitude of 
 souls are cradled into the profoundest slumbers. And the result 
 is, no revivals, not much growth in grace, and, of course, no dis- 
 order. And men, under such a ministry, often sleep so sweetly, 
 that any voice which shall wake them, even the voice of the Spirit 
 of God, is unwelcome. Now such a ministry, I know, will escape 
 trials, and will need none of our sympathy. Pastor and people 
 will plod on, till he is snatched to heaven, and they scattered upon 
 
380 CONCIO AD CLERUM. 
 
 the mountains, or gathered and saved at length under a better 
 ministry that will need our sympathies. 
 
 III. I shall now offer some reasons why the ministers of Jesus 
 Christ should participate with their brethren, in the afflictions that 
 arise from & faithful discharge of their duty. 
 
 1. To sustain our brethren when they are in bonds for the gos- 
 pel, is a duty we owe to Jesus Christ. He sent them to preach his 
 gospel, assuring them that they went out as lambs among wolves, 
 and promised to be with them even to the end of the world. And 
 he makes good his promise, and is with them, and is a partaker in 
 all the afflictions they suffer for his sake. Would we then do him 
 honor, we must sustain whom he sustains, and sympathize with 
 those who cannot compromise the honors of their Master to escape 
 the cross. Permit me to say, as a minister of Jesus Christ, that I 
 ask of the world no greater honor, than to be considered a prompt 
 partaker in the afflictions of every ambassador of his who suffers 
 for his name's sake. 
 
 2. It is a duty we owe to our brethren. If we are the faithful 
 ministers of Jesus Christ we all belong to the same embassy, and 
 are obligated to kindness, not merely from Christian affection, but 
 from that endeared brotherhood begotten by the additional rela- 
 tionship of office. Hence, with regard to every minister of Jesus 
 Christ, I am bound, either to dispute his commission, or prove him 
 a traitor to his Master, or stay his hands when they hang down. 
 It was a law in Israel that if a beast had fallen under his burden, 
 one that was passing by must lift him up ; what then are we not 
 obligated to do for our brethren in the gospel, when they faint 
 under its afflictions. 
 
 3. Unless the ambassadors of Jesus Christ sustain each other, the 
 influence of the gospel ministry, and of course its usefulness, are 
 greatly diminished. Common sense declares that unity is strength. 
 And each minister of the Lord Jesus Christ knows how his soul is 
 waked to energy by a knowledge of the fact that he is sustained 
 by his brethren in the same office. And the men we are sent to 
 save are the more prepared to yield their hearts and their deport- 
 ment to the influence of truth, when they see it brought to them 
 by a united band ; having all one commission, and one Master, and 
 one creed, and one heart. It then comes like the overtures of 
 peace, brought not by a single ambassador, but by the general of 
 an army. Then the commission is respected, and the overtures 
 receive prompt and serious attention. 
 
CONCIO AD CLERUM. 381 
 
 4. Not a few of God's ministers have quit the work and others 
 in the hour of conflict have looked about them for some other em- 
 ployment, because they conceived that they were not promptly sus- 
 tained by their brethren. They had been given a stubborn field to 
 cultivate, all grown over with thorns and briars, and they labored 
 till they had richly earned the confidence of those who had occu- 
 pied a less stubborn and more fruitful section of the vineyard ; but 
 at length they became wearied with perpetual effort, and finally 
 quit the field. And it is a query worth our attention, whether a 
 little timely help, would not have kept them in the work, and ren- 
 dered them immensely useful, while now they are at some other 
 service, and must die out of the vineyard. And there are probably 
 many at this very moment looking about them for a school, secre- 
 taryship, or professorship, or a clerkship, by which they may earn 
 a piece of bread for their children. And this at the very moment 
 when we are making every possible effort to send forth more 
 laborers into the vineyard. Now, why not make some effort to 
 sustain those already at the work, and by partaking in their afflic- 
 tions wake them to renewed enterprise, and a far more extended 
 usefulness 1 
 
 If any who have been commissioned are unworthy, then publish 
 their character, and send them back to the plough, and the residue 
 sustain. Shall those who are happily located fear injury to them- 
 selves, if they speak a kind word in behalf of some afflicted brother 1 
 I will not allow myself to believe that the legate of the skies can 
 act from a motive so contracted. I will rather believe that depres- 
 sion of mind, under long protracted trials, has begotten in the 
 minds of some good men the false impression that they were not 
 duly sustained in their conflicts. And I will, in the mean time, 
 place high in honor those noble men who have earned and obtain- 
 ed the reputation of strengthening the weak hands, and confirming 
 the feeble knees, and who have ventured to say to the fearful heart, 
 Be strong, fear not. They have kept many a good man in the 
 field, and thus have virtually made more ministers than many who 
 have pleaded eloquently the cause of charitable education. " These 
 ought ye to have done, but not to have left the others undone." 
 Said the apostle of the circumcision, after giving us a catalogue 
 of his afflictions, " Who is weak, and I am not weak ? who is of- 
 fended, and I burn not V This, it seems, was the lesson which 
 his own trials had taught him. 
 
 FINALLY Brethren, feel not that the subject was an unnecessary 
 
382 CONC10 AD CLERUM. 
 
 exposure of ministerial weakness. We shall not give the churches 
 confidence in us, by showing them that we have little confidence 
 in one another. We -shall not bless them, by neglecting and des- 
 pising those in the ministry who suffer till they abandon the broth- 
 erhood, and go back into the world to get their bread. The des- 
 perate enemies of God, who are quarelling with their minister be- 
 cause he has ventured to tell them the whole truth, may be glad if 
 we will leave him unsustained, till they can devour him. But the 
 good sense of God's people, and of all generous, noble-minded men, 
 will love and honor us the more, the stronger is that ligature that 
 binds together the hearts of God's ministers. 
 
SERMON XXXIII.* 
 
 THE MERCIES OF GOD NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 
 
 ISAIAH I. 2. ' 
 
 Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ; for the Lord hath spoken ; I have nourished and brought 
 up children, and they have rebelled against me. 
 
 How provoking is the sin of ingratitude ! Among men it is 
 considered unpardonable, while every other crime is forgiven. To 
 be ungrateful argues a want of ingenuousness, of which even the 
 most ungrateful are not willing to be accused. And can we won- 
 der that pride takes the alarm, when a charge is brought that ar- 
 gues baseness, not to be found in the herd of the stall. 
 
 The descendants of Abraham, to whom the prophet refers, fur- 
 nish us a long history of iugratitude. God had so distinguished 
 them as to render them eternal debtors to his mercy, but they 
 rebelled against him. He called Abraham from Ur of the Chaldees, 
 a land of dark idolatry, gave him a large posterity, and made them 
 the objects of his peculiar care. When oppressed with famine, 
 the king of Egypt must feed them. When enslaved, God raised 
 them up a deliverer, who brought them out with triumph. He 
 bade the waves of the sea roll back and leave them a passage, and 
 'return to discomfit their foes. He miraculously clothed, fed, and 
 guided them forty years. He then divided Jordan, and introduced 
 them into a beautiful country, which, being watered with enrich- 
 ing dews and timely showers, furnished them all that heart could 
 wish. To give them room he " drove out the heathen with his- 
 hand." They had riches, honors, pleasures, and health. God de- 
 livered to them his word, called them his children, and placed in 
 their magnificent temple the symbol of his presence. 
 
 When the ten tribes revolted from the house of David, and 
 were abandoned to dispersion and slavery, he still kept his eye on 
 Judah. He gave them wise kings, faithful prophets, and a mild 
 and happy government. Still had they the means of knowing the 
 mind of God. They had their temple, their high priest, their holy 
 
 * Delivered in New-Jersey, at the rising of the sun, on the Fourth of July, 
 1814 ; in a time of great and general interest on the subject of religion, and 
 intended to prevent the usual desecration of the day. 
 
384- THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 altar, and their daily sacrifice. For many years they sat under 
 their vines and fig-trees, and none made them afraid. 
 
 Thus God nourished and brought them up as children.. Had he 
 not a right to expect their obedience ? Was it not enough to as- 
 tonish heaven and earth, to see it withheld 1 Can we, without 
 amazement, be told, that in contempt of all this succession of 
 mercies, that people made them other gods, and bowed to images 
 which themselves had carved 1 They imprisoned their prophets, 
 profaned their temple, hardened their hearts, and generated a pos- 
 terity prepared to embrue their hands in the blood of Christ. All 
 this mischief achieved by that people, God resolved to destroy ; 
 but first commands heaven and earth to listen to the story of their 
 apostacy : " Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth ; for the Lord 
 hath spoken ; I have nourished and brought up children, and they 
 have rebelled against me." 
 
 How aptly does this whole history apply to us! If Judah's 
 ingratitude has ever been surpassed if it has ever been equalled, it 
 has been in America. While attending to this short history, you 
 have been making the comparison between that nation and ours. 
 We have been nurtured with the same fatherly care, and have been 
 equally rebellious. 
 
 In pursuing the subject, I shall follow the natural division of the 
 text, and show, first, that God has nourished and brought us up as 
 children, and secondly, that we have rebelled against him. 
 
 I. I am to show that God has nourished and brought us up as 
 children. A kind parent aims to promote the best good of his 
 children, and to this point bends every effort. So the dealings of 
 God with us have been calculated to promote our best good. " He 
 hath not dealt so with any" other " nation." In proof of this as- 
 sertion we have only to look at facts. It is asked, Wherein has 
 God given us proof of paternal affection ] I answer, 
 
 1. In preparing us such a goodly land. It is believed that no 
 portion of the globe is to the same extent so fertile, healthful, and 
 pleasant as the United States of America. 
 
 Our soil infertile. Hardly does any land furnish its inhabitants 
 comfort or luxury that ours does not yield for us. Our valleys 
 wave with corn, our hills are white with harvests, and our very 
 mountains, to their highest cliffs, feed our flocks. Till God shall 
 become angry, and shall forbid the showers to enrich our fields, 
 we never need be dependant for our bread or clothing on any other 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 385 
 
 nation. What one region of our country does' not produce, grows 
 abundantly in some other. 
 
 And we draw sustenance from our bays and rivers. Thus were 
 u the fields to yield no meat, arid should the herd be cut off from 
 the stall," we should be still supplied. On this point every rea- 
 sonable desire is satisfied, and every ground of fear removed. 
 
 To fertility God has added beauty. Ours is all that rich variety 
 of scenery which can please the eye or charm the heart. Our ex- 
 tensive plains, encircled with cultivated hills, watered with mean- 
 dering streams, and opening upon the traveler as he reaches the 
 eminence, afford prospects the most enchanting. If any doubt 
 whether our land is beautiful, ask the Christian, who, in some 
 favored hour, ascended the mountain, and felt his soul rise from 
 the broad-spread landscape to the God who planned and built the 
 scene ; ask him if " our lines have" not " fallen to us in pleasant 
 places." Ask the mariner, who has been shipwrecked upon the 
 coast of Africa, and has seen the sable tribes making a delicious 
 meal on reptiles ask him if we have not a goodly heritage. Ask 
 the traveler who has scorched his feet in Arabian deserts, and has 
 climbed the Ararat, if the tender mercies of the Lord to us are 
 not great. Ask one, if you please, who has seen the lawns and 
 parks of polished Europe, if nature has not furnished our America 
 with richer lawns and nobler parks. Will it not excite gratitude 
 to compare our country in point of beauty , with any regidft of the 
 globe 1 What was once said of England is more true of America. 
 u It is a paradise of pleasure^ the garden of God. Our vales are 
 like Eden, our hills as Lebanon, our springs as Pisgah, our 
 rivers as Jordan, our walls the ocean, and our defence the Lord 
 Jehovah." 
 
 Nor is any portion of the globe, to the same extent, more 
 healthful. From the eternal snows of the north, and from the 
 sultry heats and deadly blasts of the south, we are well removed. 
 The longevity of our grand parents, recorded on yonder tomb- 
 stones ; the many in our assembly today, on whom is seen the 
 blossom of the almond-tree, bear witness that God has blessed with 
 health and long life, his American Israel. The numbers who can 
 be spared from the sick and dying bed, to wait on God this morn- 
 ing in this house, bear testimony to the salubrity of our clime. Yes, 
 God has fraught every gale with life, and has wafted health to us 
 in every breeze. The effects of his ' bounty are seen in every 
 countenance, and felt in every nerve. 
 
 In all this God has acted the part of a kind Father ; has nourish- 
 49 
 
386 THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 ed and brought us up as children. The land of Canaan, although 
 described as flowing with milk and honey, was not a better land. 
 Nor will God demand less of us than of Israel. He charges us 
 with every field, every spring, and every river. He notes against 
 us every shower that falls upon our hills, and every dew drop that 
 moistens the vales. 
 
 2. There was a display of God's parental affection in giving us 
 existence in this favored land. Long had it been the lonely haunt 
 of savages. Our forefathers were natives of other realms, realms 
 now perhaps in ruins. If God had not intended to be a father to 
 us, we might there have been born, and there have lived, in the 
 midst of oppression, tears, and blood. ,We might have been 
 forced into those armies which have perished on the plains of Eu- 
 rope, stiffened with December's frosts, or fattening the soils with 
 their blood. But God had kindnesses in store for us, and bid our 
 fathers fly to some other land. 
 
 But whither could they fly 1 When they first began to feel op- 
 pression, America was unknown in Europe. It had lain hid be- 
 yond a vast expanse of trackless ocean, ever since it sprang from 
 chaos. True, it had been visited, but from its dreary bourne, no 
 one had returned to bear tidings. Driven before the eastern tor- 
 nado, the wretched had known its rocky shores as the place of 
 their midnight shipwreck ; else unknown. But Divine Goodness, 
 which had long kept it in reserve for us, raised it into view, just 
 at the moment when oppression was preparing our fathers to wish 
 and pray for some asylum where they and their children might 
 be free. The immortal Columbus sought our shores. Our ances- 
 tors followed him, under the same Divine escort. And here we 
 are this morning in a land of plenty, health, and freedom. 
 
 My hearers, do you not feel that God was kind in all this ? 
 Think then of the millions, who are this day miserably poor, on 
 that ground where we might have been wretched paupers, if our 
 forefathers had remained at home. Think of Europe's precious 
 youth, who have been lately torn from home in their tender years, 
 to man the navy and fill the armies. Think of the fathers, who 
 now need sons to prop their age, but have lost them in battle. Ah ! 
 and mothers, more helpless still, without a child remaining to so- 
 lace their widowhood. See that band of females ! they have been 
 to the shore to salute their husbands, but they return in despair ; 
 their husbands have fallen in the field.* Think of the pleasant 
 
 * A scene actually witnessed not long since in England, on the return from 
 Spain of a remnant of Lord Wellington's army. 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 387 
 
 cottages wrapped in flames by the torches of a desolating army. 
 Recollect the sufferings of that little Swiss Republic, to whom 
 liberty was so dear, that mothers left their infants under the oak, 
 and fought and fell by the side of their husbands. While humanity 
 bleeds over these scenes of distress, let piety raise to heaven a 
 tearful eye, and say, " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is 
 within me bless his holy name." 
 
 3. As a parent his children, the Lord has instructed us. We 
 were from infancy taught to read the Scriptures, and were early 
 placed under the droppings of the sanctuary. Many of us have 
 been devoted to God in baptism, and have thus been made mem- 
 bers of the school of Christ. Pious parents have whispered truth 
 in our ears. Ever have we had line upon line, and precept upon 
 precept. In no other quarter of the globe have all classes the 
 means of instruction. And in this matter has not the Lord been a 
 kind Father 1 If a doubt remains, think of those crowds of Pa- 
 pists, who through ignorance of the Scriptures, pray to departed 
 saints, and tender gold for the pardon of sin ! See those hordes 
 of Mahometans, stupid as the beast, till their infuriated passions 
 arouse them to spill a brother's blood. Think of the millions of 
 Pagan tribes, who to this day worship a block of wood. Yes, 
 think of the hundreds of millions, who never saw a Bible, who 
 never enjoyed a Sabbath, and to whom no kind angel of mercy 
 ever carried proffers of pardon. Think of these things, and you 
 cannot doubt the fatherly kindness of God in providing for our 
 instruction. 
 
 4. God has exercised parental love in defending our country in 
 times of danger. Our whole history, from the first landing of our 
 forefathers, is but one continued, affecting account of God's care 
 of them and us. When that first ship brought that little band of 
 persecuted Christians, and landed them, in the midst of winter, on 
 Plymouth's bleak, inhospitable coast, when they there kindled 
 their first fire, amidst howling beasts and yelling savages, when 
 they there fell on their knees, and to heaven raised their eyes, 
 streaming with tears, when they covered their little babes with 
 leaves blown from the trees of autumn, and stationed a sentinel to 
 watch the foe ; how could it be doubted but that they would be 
 driven from the land they had reached 1 Who could have predict- 
 ed or would have dared to hope, that God would soon give them 
 peaceable possession of all this extensive country 1 
 
 And afterward, when the savage band conspired to destroy that 
 little company of strangers, when the scalping knife was raised 
 
388 THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 over the slumbers of the cradle, when the savage yell disturbed 
 the midnight dream, and the angry flames were consuming the lit- 
 tle thatched hovels where our mothers slept, who could have 
 thought that God intended so soon to give the word, and bid 
 those savages retire to the western forests 1 who could have 
 believed, or dreamed, that those miserable hovels would in a few 
 years be exchanged for these beautiful mansions which now adorn 
 our land 1 
 
 And when, afterward, the merciless Frenchmen bore down upon 
 us from the north, and in the west hired against us the bloody 
 tomahawk, when their ships of war covered our lakes, and spread 
 destruction along our Atlantic shores, and the savage band broke 
 in upon our frontiers, each pressed on by infernal fury ; who could 
 have thought that heaven designed, by this war, to prepare us for 
 future conflicts, and raise us up an immortal Washington to be the 
 future savior of our country. 
 
 And when, at length, the very land that gave us birth became 
 hostile ; when her floating purgatories thundered on our coast, 
 and burned our cities, and her hard hearted veterans were ravag- 
 ing our country, stripping our fathers of their flocks and herds, 
 and our mothers of their well-earned food, and of the couch on 
 which they dared not rest, and could not sleep ; when at length 
 we were forced to make an appeal to the sword, and our little 
 companies of undisciplined troops were rallying round their Gen- 
 eral; when our fathers began to fall in the high places of the 
 field, and our mothers, with some of us infants in their arms, fled 
 from the foe, and saw him burn their dwellings ; when at length 
 the temples of the living God were converted into barracks, pro- 
 faned with the soldier's oath, and dissipated night with their blaz- 
 ing spires ; when the meek ambassador of the cross* must die 
 for loving his country, and for wishing to be free ; and when all 
 hearts began to ache and to bleed, and Heaven had not yet begun 
 to give us the victory, in this trying hour, who would have 
 thought that God intended so soon to deliver us from the oppress- 
 ive yoke of our parent country, and make us an independent and 
 happy republic. 
 
 While we look round us, and see some present, who still wear 
 the scars they received in that perilous hour, we feel emotions of 
 gratitude which we cannot suppress. Yes, fathers I while we 
 bless God for being our rock of defence in the desperate hour, we 
 
 * Mr. Caldwell, of Elizabeth-Town. 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPEOCATED. 389 
 
 thank you for the efforts you made to earn and deliver to us the 
 fair inheritance of freedom. We never will, no never ! forget 
 your toils and dangers. We will cherish you in your declining 
 years, and when you are dead, we will lead our infant children to 
 your graves, and tell them the history of your sufferings in the 
 cause of freedom. But, fathers, while we thank you that you 
 fought in Israel's hosts, we entreat you to love Israel's God. And 
 ye aged mothers, you fled with us from the malice of the foe : 
 O ! flee with us from the wrath to come ! 
 
 Here I could stay and mention other mercies till the sun had 
 gone down. God has given us a happier form of government 
 than is now enjoyed in any other portion of the globe. Life, pro- 
 perty, and the rights of conscience are secure. Parents are not 
 constrained to send their children, at the call of a tyrant, to be 
 trained up to the art of murder. As yet we have suffered but lit- 
 tle by the present distressing war. The foe has destroyed others ; 
 fellow-citizens have spilt their blood in the field, and others have 
 lost their all, while we are unmolested. Nor have we felt the dis- 
 tresses of famine. .The poorest among us have bread, while, in 
 our world, aud doubtless in some parts of our land, there are those 
 who are destitute. God has kept us too from those plagues and 
 pestilences which have desolated other countries. Our breezes 
 are yet laden with health. O how good is the Lord ! 
 
 And we could tell of individual blessings. God has guarded our 
 lives. In the midst of a thousand snares we have been safely 
 kept. Who can say why we have not been numbered among the 
 millions dead, or the thousands now in the agonies of dissolution. 
 Every day and every hour have our lives been forfeited. If God 
 had bidden us die any morning or any evening, he had still been 
 just and good. But he yet allows our blood to flow warm in our 
 veins, and the heart to beat high with life in our bosoms. In all 
 this how strong a testimony of the Divine goodness ! 
 
 But our wonder must increase. God has not only spared us, 
 and defended us from harm, but has with his bounty rendered our 
 lives comfortable and happy. We have been surrounded with 
 every thing that could sweeten life. Our friends have smiled upon 
 us and loved us. " God has fed us with the finest of wheat, and 
 with the honey out of the rock has he satisfied us." We have sat 
 peaceably in our dwellings, and have seen the rich harvests ripen- 
 ing in our fields, while other dwellings have resounded with dying 
 groans, and other fields have been fattened with human gore. Thus 
 God has employed his wisdom and power in making rebels happy. 
 
390 THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 If all this does not excite our gratitude, the beasts of the stall will 
 find a tongue to reproach us : for " the ox knoweth his owner, and 
 the ass his master's crib." 
 
 But, to crown our other mercies, to blacken our ingratitude, and 
 raise our wonder to its climax, God offers us eternal life through 
 his Son. We are pressed with the obligations of dying love. The 
 Holy Spirit, with kind intent, has come down among us. Through 
 all the past year he has been knocking at the door of some of our 
 hearts. And perhaps many present have continued to reject 
 his kindest entreaties. And still Divine compassion waits to 
 save. 
 
 Thus after our cup has run over with earthly blessings, God has 
 opened to us all the treasures of heaven. First he fills our table 
 with his fruits, and his wines, and then invites us to the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb. Here is unparalelled benevolence. No 
 world has known the like. The angels have seen nothing like it 
 in heaven, devils have heard of nothing like it in hell. That God 
 should be kind to the good is to be expected ; but that infinite wis- 
 dom and love should exhaust their skill to make a rebel happy, is 
 enough to excite wonder in the breast of Gabriel. 
 
 Having thus nourished and brought us up as children, had not 
 the Lord a right to expect obedience 1 Are we not the basest of 
 creatures if we do not love and serve him 1 I appeal to conscience, 
 which God has placed as his witness, in your bosom. What de- 
 mand does that messenger of heaven make upon you to-day ? 
 Should not the passing hours be spent in God's praise 1 If other- 
 wise employed, will not the God of Israel be angry 1 And yet we 
 know that none will give him praise but those who love him. All 
 others will profane this day, and thus provoke his wrath. I pro- 
 ceed to the other part of my subject. 
 
 II. While God has been exhibiting all this parental affection, we 
 have rebelled against him. Every breach of God's law, every de- 
 parture from duty, every unholy affection and improper action is 
 rebellion. In our case, as in that of Judah, when God complained 
 by the prophet, we exhibit degeneracy as well as rebellion. We 
 have departed from the piety and rectitude of our forefathers. J 
 shall at present mention some of the prevailing sins of our land, 
 by which it is manifest that we are both a degenerate and rebellious 
 people. And while I proceed, every one must allow his con- 
 science to do its office. It is to no purpose that the gospel is 
 preached, unless the truth is felt. 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 391 
 
 The first sin I mention as proving our degeneracy and rebellion, 
 is the want of family religion in our land : instance family prayer. 
 While we are commanded to pray with all manner of prayer, lift- 
 ing up holy hands to God, many families entirely neglect the duty. 
 From no domestic altar ascends their morning and evening sacri- 
 fice. They rise with* the sun, and address themselves to the busi- 
 ness of the day, without asking God to watch or guide them. I 
 fear some of my hearers did not pray in their families this morning. 
 God only knows. And no doubt as many will retire this evening, 
 without thanking God 'for preserving goodness, or engaging any 
 heavenly guard to watch the sleeping pillow. Now if parents do 
 not pray in their families, we cannot hope that they do it in their 
 closets. That parent who finds secret prayer delightful, will en- 
 deavor by example to teach his children prayer. It is reported 
 that some professors of religion have no prayer in their families, 
 and ask no blessing over their food. Some are said to pray only 
 on the Sabbath, and ask a blessing over one meal in the day. Why 
 not, with the same propriety, pray once in the year, and ask only 
 an annual blessing over the ingathered harvest 1 This would cut 
 the business short. 
 
 In this point we have degenerated. It is said that among our 
 forefathers there was no family without a domestic altar, no little 
 helpless immortals without a father's prayers. They partook not 
 of the Divine bounty till they had blessed the Giver. Could they 
 return they would blush to own their offspring. 
 
 How can the Christian neglect duties so plain ] How can the 
 father, whose title implies the warmest affection, let his children 
 retire at night, till he has committed them to the care of God 1 If 
 neglected by the father, how can the mother, a name yet more 
 tender, lay her little ones upon their pillows, till she has put them 
 under the care of the Watchman of Israel. How do careless pa- 
 rents know that their children will live till the morning 1 And 
 should they die on that night, when they were not the subjects of 
 parental prayer, how must those parents feel 1 With what heart- 
 rending anguish must they convey their bodies to the grave. The 
 neglect of this duty in particular, and of family religion in general, 
 is doubtless a crying sin, which proves our apostacy and rebellion, 
 and must draw down Divine judgments. 
 
 2. Another common sin, equally manifesting degeneracy and re- 
 bellion, is the neglect of discipline in families and churches. Many 
 families have no government. The children never feel restraint, 
 and so never learn obedience. The consequence is, they often 
 
392 THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 despise their parents, and prove scourges to society. The world 
 is the loser by their existence. They live only to cumber the 
 ground, and reproach their parents. How ashamed ought parents 
 to be of such children ! and how afraid should society be of such 
 parents ! 
 
 In Churches the same neglect of discipline prevails. Some, 
 who have no pretensions to heart religion, are admitted to the 
 communion. Many are seen there who are not moral. Yes ! the 
 the lips of profaneness touch the symbols of a dying Christ ! 
 Hands polluted with the intoxicating bowl, and trembling under its 
 dire effects, are moved to the sacred cup ! The scorner, in many 
 places, takes his seat among the followers of the Lamb ! The 
 very disciples of Iscariot, who envy Jesus a throne with the Father, 
 and would pluck every gem from his crown ; who trample upon 
 truth ; and would gladly extirpate the Church, or at least kindle a 
 hell in her bosom these come forward, with a brazen front, and 
 commemorate the dying love of Christ ! Were He to come and 
 put himself again in the power of sinners, would not many of our 
 communicants leave the sacrament and go to crucify him 1 In the 
 days of our forefathers, there was not this want of discipline. 
 Every family was a little Church, in which pious parents bent 
 every effort to make their children like themselves. Departure 
 from duty met reproof. The child who would disobey a parent, 
 disrespect superiors, disturb devotion, or profane the Name of 
 God, would meet the frowns of his play-fellows. 
 
 The church-member who walked disorderly was reproved, and 
 at once either reclaimed or cut off. None came to the Lord's ta- 
 ble, who were not strictly moral and hopefully pious. They had 
 no idea, in those days, that unrenewed men had any right to the 
 children's bread. If they were correct, we are degenerate. It 
 would be happy for the Church and the world, if that golden age 
 could return. And return it must ; discipline must be administer- 
 ed, before there will be a reformation of morals, or any extensive 
 revival of religion in our land. And have we not reason to believe 
 that a reformation in this matter must precede the removal of those 
 judgments which we begin to feel. If God frowned because he 
 disapproved, why smile till he approve ? 
 
 3. The profanation of the Sabbath' is another general sin, proving 
 us degenerate and rebellious. Once that day was respected in Ame- 
 rica. The man who did not regard the Sabbath was not esteemed. 
 The person who walked the streets on that day, unless to or from 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROACTED. 393 
 
 the house of God, was considered a disturber of the public peace.* 
 Then the waterman anchored his vessel in the harbor, till the hours 
 of Sabbath were by ; the traveler delayed his journey, and the 
 young laid aside their pastimes. Now the sailor begins his voy- 
 age, the traveler pursues his journey, young man their pleasures, 
 and children their sports on that sacred day. On many public 
 streets the way to the temple is obstructed with teams, and as 
 you enter the very doors of the sanctuary, your ears are assailed 
 with the oaths of the heaven-abandoned teamsters. The inn- 
 keeper and his family can never hear the gospel ; they might as 
 well live in India : they must be at home to serve the Sabbath- 
 breaker. In many parts of our land the evening of the Sabbath is 
 not regarded. 
 
 And there are none who dare oppose this flood of corruption. 
 One plea is, there are no laws. If we Jhave no laws sufficient to 
 enforce the observance of the Sabbath, and our legislators refuse 
 to enact any, we must be a very corrupt people ; if we have, and 
 dare not enforce them, then our corruption is incurable. In either 
 case, vye have a striking demonstration that we are a rebellious 
 and degeneTate people. 
 
 4. " Because of swearing the land mourneth." This sin proves 
 us degenerate and rebellious. The profane oath used to be the sub- 
 ject of public prosecution. Men dared not take in vain the name 
 of the Lord their God. When respect for the great Jehovah did 
 not restrain, the fear of man did. But the gold has become dim. 
 In many awful instances, the child who has just begun to speak, 
 is taught to swear. The evening streets profanely echo with the 
 names of the eternal God. The inn, formerly the peaceable asy- 
 lum of the pious traveler, is now often rendered intolerable by 
 resounding oaths and curses. What sin can be more daring ] It 
 is a direct attack upon a holy God. It evinces a heart desperately 
 rebellious. Its prevalence evinces a state of society monstrously 
 degenerate. 
 
 5. Another sin, equally proving us rebellious and degenerate, is 
 intemperance-! This is a growing sin, which should alarm every 
 friend to human happiness. It prevails among both sexes,! and in 
 
 * In one of the largest States in the Union, a public officer stopped the Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor, as he was walking out on the Sabbath, and obliged him to 
 return. 
 
 t It is credibly reported, that in the first settlement of this country, spirituous 
 liquor was kept only by the apothecaries, as a medicine. 
 
 | It is ascertained to be fact, that under the pretence of the sick headache, 
 many ladies of fashion retire to sleep off the fumes of excessive drinking. 
 50 
 
394 THE MERCIES OF GOD 
 
 all classes of society. Numberless families in our country are 
 rendered miserable by this unnatural iniquity. To-day they are 
 happy and useful, to-morrow lost. Intemperate creatures are now 
 found in every place. They corne to our holy communion, they 
 are entrusted with public offices, they officiate in our churches, 
 and have, in some distressing instances, made their way into the 
 sacred desk, and have there stood in the place of God's ambas- 
 .sador. 
 
 6. Another sin which proves us degenerate and rebellious, is the 
 existence of two hostile political parties. The manner in which 
 these parties treat each other, prove us a vicious race. Each 
 accuses the other of designing the ruin of his country, of being 
 vile, and false, and under foreign influence. Now if both divisions 
 speak truth, in bringing this charge, then we are all an abandoned 
 people ; if one party only speak truth, still about half of us are 
 irrecoverably lost ; and if neither keep the truth, then " all men 
 are liars." Take either ground, and we are a wicked race. An 
 unhappy result of this political division is, that we have corrupted 
 the press. It is almost impossible to learn truth from the- public 
 gazettes. By party prejudice and rage, facts are discolored. The 
 honest man dares not confide in what he reads. On either side 
 the plainest facts are sometimes obstinately and perseveringly de- 
 nied : I do not charge it all to the editors, nor dare I attempt to 
 exonerate them. 
 
 Once things were not so. Our fathers knew but one party : 
 they were Americans. They contended only for the interests of 
 their own country. Every public paper was the vehicle of truth. 
 If one said, " I saw it written thus in the newspaper" there were 
 none to contradict. Nothing was written there that was not be- 
 lieved to be truth. But that golden age is gone. Truth, unable 
 to breathe our polluted atmosphere, has taken its flight. As if 
 the tongue, that " world of iniquity," could not sufficiently dis- 
 perse falsehood, men have taught the paper and ink to lie ; and 
 yet there is not a shadow of evidence, that there may not be on 
 both sides of the question, the firmest friends and vilest enemies 
 of their country. 
 
 Here I could enumerate many other sins ; among which are 
 conspicuous a disposition in professors of religion to conform to 
 the world, the little regard paid to an oath, a proneness in minis- 
 ters to seek popularity rather than usefulness, to consult the taste 
 rather than the good of their hearers, and the prevailing propensity 
 to asperse character : I am ashamed to name any more. 
 
NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 395 
 
 These sins have offended God, and he has come out of his holy 
 place to punish us. , If we do not repent, how can we hope that 
 God will not treat us as he has other wicked nations, and discharge 
 upon us, ultimately, the full vials of his wrath. Is there not occa- 
 sion ,why this day should be devoted to God 1 If he be for us, 
 none can be against us ; but if God forsake us, we are as stubble, 
 arid can be trodden down by any foe that he may commission. 
 And can we hope that he will continue to protect us, when disci- 
 pline and prayer are neglected ; when the name, the worship, the 
 Sabbath, and the sacred honor of God are disregarded j and when 
 every sin that can be named prevails 1 Will he continue to shield 
 us by his power, when no longer his people 1 Will he be " a wall 
 of fire round about us," when no longer u the glory in the midst 
 of us V As the Lord liveth, our sins have placed us in danger. 
 
 Is it not then a time when all classes of men should fear before 
 the Lord 1 Ought not the ministers of the Gospel to take their 
 stand between the porch and the altar, and cry, with incessant 
 tears, " Lord, spare thy people, and give not thy heritage to re- 
 proach." Have they not reason to fear that the ark of God may 
 be taken from us, and carried to the heathen 1 Alas ! if we look 
 round us must we not fear that the divine glory is now hovering 
 over the threshold, in the attitude of departing. Since our iniqui- 
 ties put us in danger, may every watchman be awake upon his 
 watch-tower, and be ready to give the alarm, that if he cannot 
 save others, he may at least free his own skirts from the blood of 
 souls. 
 
 And shall not parents, who look forward to the destinies of a 
 rising offspring, which they are about to leave in the midst of dan- 
 gers like these ; parents to whom God has committed in charge 
 souls more precious than material worlds, shall they not this day 
 mourn over their own sins and the sins of their children 1 Shall 
 they not bring them in faith and prayer to the arms of a compas- 
 sionate God. My dear fathers and mothers, soon opportunity to 
 pray for your children will be gone. Your withering locks will 
 soon lie in the dust. We do hope that before your dissolution ar- 
 rives, we shall be the subjects of your earnest prayers. We en- 
 treat you to pray for us to-day. 
 
 My Christian friends, it will become us to lie low in the dust 
 to-day, and to review all our sins, by which perhaps we have stum- 
 bled the impenitent, and provoked our kind Redeemer. Think, 
 brethren, of the impending dangers. Everything dear to the pious 
 heart is at stake ; the country bought with the blood of our fathers ; 
 
396 THE MERCIES OF GOD NOT OBEDIENTLY RECIPROCATED. 
 
 yes, and the American Churches bought with richer blood. As 
 we inquire now respecting the seven Churches of Asia, others 
 may, another day, inquire, " Where are now the once flourishing 
 Churches of America 1" O, is this ground, made sacred by the 
 impress of a Savior's feet, to be trodden down by a savage band 1 
 Is this temple of God to become, ever, a Mahometan mosque. 
 After God has baptized it with his Spirit, will he suffer it to be- 
 come a heathen temple 1 " O ! tell it not in Gath ! Publish it not 
 in the streets of Askelon !" The enemies of truth will triumph. 
 Christians, pray this day for Zion. Go to your closets, while 
 others are abusing the day, and deplore the prevailing iniquities, 
 and weep over a people, who by their sins, are destroying them- 
 selves. Tf God will not forgive us, and still be for us, we die. And 
 the prayers of the saints must bring the blessing down. 
 
 One word to the impenitent. This is an important day for you, 
 but I fear that some of you may this day do your souls much injury. 
 The saints consider your danger very great, and many a prayer has 
 ascended this morning from the " dwellings of Jacob" in your be- 
 half. If ruin comes upon our land, you have no place of refuge. 
 The Christian has a strong tower, into which he can run and be 
 safe ; but destruction will overtake you if out of Christ. O ! 
 what need have you to be afflicted, and mourn, and weep ! All 
 your sins are still written against you. Not one of all the myri- 
 ads is pardoned. See to it that you do not act today so as to pro- 
 voke God to anger, and perhaps induce him to abandon you for 
 ever. May we all so spend the day as to do our country good, 
 and promote our future eternal blessedness. 
 
SERMON XXXIV. 
 
 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 ISAIAH VI. 1-3. 
 
 And the sons of the prophets said unto Elisha, Behold now, the place where we dwell with 
 thee is too strait for us. Let us go, we pray thee, unto Jordan, and take there every man a beam, 
 and let us make us a place there where we may dwell. And he answered. Go ye. And one said, 
 Be content, I pray tbee, and go with thy servants, and he answered, I will go. 
 
 ABOUT nine hundred years before Christ, there was at Jericho or 
 Gilgal, some place near to Jordan, a school of the prophets, at the 
 head of which was the worthy and venerable Elisha. The govern- 
 ment of Israel was in the hands of Jehoram, a degenerate son of 
 the impious Ahab. It was a time of general corruption; the 
 prophets were treated with neglect ; and the honors due to God 
 were given to an idol. Still the prophets were employed in pro- 
 moting the worship of God, and their number increased till they 
 had occasion to enlarge the place of their tent. In the simple and 
 interesting history of this enterprise, we learn, that the prophets, 
 though poor, and not held in very high estimation in that degene- 
 rate age, were pious, honest, and industrious. 
 
 They seem to have dwelt together, that under the tuition of 
 their honored father, they might become prepared to teach and 
 prophecy in Israel and the neighboring countries. They were, no 
 doubt, at this time, frequently consulted by the leaders of Israel, 
 notwithstanding their degeneracy and corruption. 
 
 I presume it can need no apology, if I glance from this school of 
 the prophets to the education of a gospel ministry. O could I, in 
 the transition, bring with me into gospel times the faith of Eli- 
 sha, and transfer into my audience the zeal of his associates ! 
 Then the building we propose to erect would soon rise, and the 
 Church, down to the latest ages, feel and rejoice in the benevolent 
 enterprise. I shall take occasion to remark in the 
 
 First place, That, up to this moment, very inadequate provision is 
 made for replenishing the gospel ministry. This treasure is commit- 
 ted to earthen vessels ; ministers are dying men. When we have 
 served the Church a few days, we go the way of all the earth, and 
 
 * Delivered at the laying of the corner-stone of Ajnherst College, Aug. 9, 1820. 
 
398 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 the places that knew us know us no more for ever. But the 
 Churches must still have a ministry ; and that ministry be com- 
 posed of men, not angels ; men educated by human means, not inspired 
 with miraculous gifts. Hence there must be made a perpetual 
 effort to create this supply of pastors and teachers, for the perfect- 
 ing of the saints, and for the edifying of the body of Christ. But the 
 present ratio of supply is entirely inadequate to the exigencies of 
 the Church. On this subject there needs no other argument but a 
 statement of facts, of which there could be presented a list that 
 would move any but a heart of iron. A very few of these facts, 
 drawn from the very best authorities, I will take the liberty to 
 mention. 
 
 The nine millions of souls in these United States, have the ser- 
 vice, it it believed, of only about two thousand five hundred minis- 
 ters who are competent to preach the gospel. But if instead of 
 this number we had nine thousand, each must then have the care of 
 one thousand souls. But in a large proportion of our country, owing 
 to the scattered state of its population, five hundred souls would 
 be an extensive charge. Hence, nine thousand ministers, in addi- 
 tion to all we have, would be but a bare supply for this district of 
 the Church of Christ. But this number would equal that of the 
 ministers educated in times past in all the colleges in the United 
 States in nearly twenty years. While, then, we might be prepar- 
 ing this supply, many ministers will go to their graves, and others 
 be disabled, and our population will have almost doubled. 
 
 We are assured, that in the three southernmost of the Atlantic 
 States, containing, perhaps, a million and a half of souls, there are 
 but one hundred and ten competent ministers ; while in one district 
 of South Carolina, containing nine hundred square miles, there is 
 but one place of worship, and that not used, and not one Christian 
 church or minister of any denomination. In the Avhole of Indiana, 
 Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Illinois, Michigan and Missouri, 
 a .district of country large enough for a continent, and containing 
 at least three hundred and fifty thousand souls, there are not 
 twenty competent ministers; of course, but one to more than 
 twenty thousand. In East Tennessee, there are in seventeen 
 counties more than one hundred thousand, while fourteen of these 
 counties are without one regular minister of the gospel. In the 
 west of Virginia, in eight counties, are forty-seven thousand souls 
 connected with no religious society ; and four whole counties 
 without any religious institutions whatever. In another district 
 there are fifty-three thousand souls, in another twenty thousand, 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 399 
 
 and in another still sixty thousand, all in about the same deplorable 
 condition. In Pennsylvania there are extensive districts in which 
 there never was a school, where more than half the adults can 
 neither read nor write, many never saw a Bible nor any book, nor 
 ever heard a sermon. One district, of forty thousand souls, has 
 but one fixed pastor. In the state of New- York there could be 
 settled immediately, were they to be found, two hundred ministers. 
 And if we should survey the limits of New-England, we should 
 see some dreary moral deserts. In the two oldest counties of 
 New-Hampshire, there are about forty-five towns without a min- 
 istry. But I have not time to enlarge. Allowing that these state- 
 ments may be in many respects not exactly correct, still they are 
 evidence of a wide and fearful desolation. If but the one half is 
 true, it presents to the eye of charity a moral landscape of wide 
 and fearful dimensions.* 
 
 If you could read the epistles that pour these complaints into 
 our ears, you would weep if you ever did, or would die with shame, 
 or would rise to a tone of charity that many have not reached. 
 Now these desolate places must be cultivated, these wastes of 
 death must be fertilized. But where are they to find a ministry 1 
 The common resources are utterly inadequate to this home supply. 
 But in the mean time we need missionaries to send to the heathen. 
 Of these there are six hundred millions who pay their supreme 
 homage to stocks and stones. The United States, it is computed, 
 ought to despatch to their help at least two thousand missionaries, 
 and will do it, if the time has come, as we presume it has, when 
 the Christian community, with the charter of eternal life in their 
 hands, can sleep no longer. 
 
 And still the ministry must be replenished at home. If the pro- 
 bability is, that we shall feel it our duty soon to support among 
 the heathen, a number of missionaries greater than that of the min- 
 isters now within our limits, pray from what resource can we ob- 
 tain that enormous supply 1 To export the whole of our ministry, 
 would render our own country the valley of death. It is impossi- 
 ble not to see that the Christian churches have neglected their 
 duty too long. We must be more thoroughly awake soon, or 
 nothing but a boundless desolation stares us in the face. The 
 wastes of death are already so wide that they almost outmeasure 
 
 * We are happy to say that the state of things, in all these cases, are greatly 
 altered for the better, and that this institution, notwithstanding its youth, has 
 had its full share in producing these happy results. 
 
400 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 the hope of cultivation, and they are daily augmenting their horrid 
 circumference. Our children, when we shall have done all that we 
 can, are very likely to be among those who shall cry for the bread 
 of life, and perish before their cry is heard. When they shall 
 have attended our funeral, they may retire to the west, and there 
 pine away in their sins, while there falls upon their ears no sound 
 of mercy, and their eyes see not upon the mountains the feet of 
 him that bringeth glad tidings, that publisheth peace, that saith to 
 Zion, Thy God reigneth. We may miss our children in heaven, 
 and know then, but know too late, that they have perished through 
 our negligence. While we thus weep over the fearful delinquen- 
 cies in the ministry of reconciliation, it is cheering to know, 
 
 II. That we have the materials and the means of an abundant 
 supply. When I speak of the materials, my eye is searching among 
 the churches for the happy subjects of our late revivals. Many 
 of them I perceive are in the vale of poverty, and would rejoice 
 to be useful, if they might presume to hope that they could be 
 equipped for the work, and that God would employ them in his 
 service. They are waiting, it is presumed, till this institution rise, 
 and some kind voice invite them to come and take sanctuary under 
 its covert. If they could equip themselves they would ; or if they 
 dared to hope that they were worthy, they would pour their cry 
 into our ears, and give us no rest till we had made them the reci- 
 pients of our charity. A few years since, if we had been awake 
 to this interest, it would not have been easy to find materials. 
 God had suffered our youth to grow up in unbelief, and thus had 
 chastised us for our negligence. But, anticipating the close of 
 our portentous slumber, his mercy has waked, and prepared the 
 rising generation to be educated, and employed to lead to conquest 
 and to glory the sacramental hosts of God's elect. If we were 
 prepared and would enter to-morrow one hundred upon our open- 
 ing list of beneficiaries, it is presumed they could readily be found, 
 and their hearts would leap with joy to know that they might be 
 furnished to the good work of pointing sinners to the Savior. 
 
 And we have abundantly the means. If each person in the 
 United States would give one cent a year for this purpose, it 
 would amount to ninety thousand dollars annually, a sum the 
 interest of which would discharge annually and for ever the ex- 
 penses of more than fifty beneficiaries ; or if the principal should 
 be expended, it would support for one year nine hundred. If each 
 church member in the United States should contribute to this 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 401 
 
 object annually one dollar, it would probably raise the sum of four 
 hundred thousand dollars, and support four thousand students. 
 Most congregations, beside supporting the ministry, could defray 
 the expenses of one student annually, and thus furnish every seven 
 years one minister. In one timely shower of rain, God could re- 
 store all we had expended for years ; or by warding off one storm, 
 could save for us a far greater amount. The man who could lose 
 an ox every year, and not be poor, or could bear the expense of 
 one fit of sickness, could pour the price of that ox, or the expenses 
 of that visitation, into the treasury of the Lord, and not be poor. 
 But if half the number who could make this sacrifice, would d<^ it, 
 and devote the avails to this object, we could very soon tenfold 
 the number of our ministers, and make the desert and the solitary 
 place glad. If one can spend idly, in the course of the year, ten 
 days, and not be poor, he could employ those days, and not be 
 poor, in earning something for this benevolent purpose. But if 
 half who actually make this sacrifice should thus employ their 
 time, the treasury of the Lord would soon be full. If the youth 
 who annually spend ten dollars in mere extravagances, would 
 give the one half of this expenditure to educate pious and worthy 
 young men for the gospel ministry, there would be made no far- 
 ther calls upon the Christian public. If farVners would cultivate 
 each a quarter acre of their waste lands in the best manner, and 
 give the proceeds to the Lord, it would probably tenfold the sum 
 that has usually been given for all the benevolent purposes for 
 which contributions have been made. If the extra crops of the 
 present year, were devoted to the Lord, and expended in thrusting 
 forth laborers into his harvest, the fields that are white would 
 soon be gathered in. Were that sum saved, which is annually 
 lost by mere negligence, it would for ever supply the churches 
 with a well-educated ministry, would furnish an army of evange- 
 lists, and would fertilize the wastes of a moral world. Instead of 
 its being the fact, as the covetous daily plead, that our resources 
 are exhausted, they are really yet untouched. The man can 
 hardly be found, who has denied himself a comfort to revive a 
 famishing world. And, as it will always happen, those who com- 
 plain the most have done the least, and most of those who complain, 
 have done nothing. The man who loves to do good with his 
 wealth is attentive to every call 'of charity, and has made every 
 benevolent institution feel the effects of his liberality and his 
 prayers, is grieved that he does so little, and has never been heard 
 to say, that the calls upon his charity have become so frequent as 
 51 
 
4-02 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 to be oppressive. That we have the means abundantly, of making 
 exertions that we have never made, none can doubt. 
 
 III. It is our duty to use these means, and supply ourselves and 
 others with a well educated ministry. The duty of preparing our- 
 selves a ministry admits of no controversy. If a congregation in 
 each thirty or forty years wears out a minister in their service, it 
 is but honest to calculate, that such a congregation should, in 
 every such period, in addition to supporting the ministry already 
 in their employ, educate one, that the list may be kept full. The 
 onty question is, Shall we provide a surplus, for those who are 
 destitute of a ministry, and cannot be expected to supply them- 
 selves 1 A very little reflection, it ,would seem, must render this 
 matter plain. If we look about us upon the waste places, we shall 
 feel that we are imperiously urged to provide them a supply of 
 pastors. There are Churches very near us, which have been so 
 unhappy as to lose the blessing they once enjoyed. Perhaps the 
 surviving members had no partnership in the sin that stripped 
 them of the ministry. They are begging for help, would do all in 
 their power to provide themselves the gospel and its ordinances ; 
 but when they have done all they can do, they still hunger for 
 the bread of life. The Domestic Missionary Society, instituted 
 for their relief, have assured us, that, although their funds have 
 been low, much of the time since their organization they have 
 done nothing, because men could not be found suitable for the, service, 
 When I read of this fact, it had on my ear the effect of a dying 
 groan, and stole through the heart like the cold stream of death. 
 Said I to myself, Are the Churches that our fathers planted, which 
 they watered with their tears, in whose bosom they expired, and 
 in whose prosperity, though now in heaven, they have still a deep 
 and unalienable interest are they to become extinct 1 Is that 
 covenant broken, which it was promised should be perpetual 1 
 Had their Redeemer said, " I have graven thee on the palms of my 
 hands, thy walls are continually before me," and has that V,ity been 
 demolished, and have those walls been thrown down 1 Have the 
 children who. there received the seal of the covenant, no promise 
 left on which to hang their hopes 1 If we are to do good to all 
 men, but especially to those who are of the household of faith, to 
 help them to re-establish in their temples the ministry of reconcilia- 
 tion is the first duty of piety, and the first dictate of humanity. They 
 hunger and thirst after the bread of life, have received a pledge 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 403 
 
 that God will sanctify them through his truth, and cannot be de- 
 nied the blessing requisite to the fulfilment of this promise. 
 
 Or if we turn our eye to those who have gone to the western 
 woods we shall see opened before us a field which we dare not 
 refuse to cultivate. They have been used to the blessings of a 
 Christian land, have heard and loved the Church-going bell, have 
 enjoyed schools, academies and libraries, and have been revived 
 by the ordinances, and must they now be excluded for ever from 
 these privileges 1 They cannot educate for themselves a ministry, 
 nor build in the wilderness the unnumbered conveniences they left 
 behind. They have turned their eye to us, and if we refuse them 
 help we cover them with unrningled despair. They have thus be- 
 fore them none but the comfortless prospect of seeing their child- 
 ren become wild men, their hand against every man, and every 
 man's hand against them ; nor this the least ; for, without the gos- 
 pel, there is nothing before their dear devoted offspring but the 
 blackness of darkness for ever. The mother, that had devoted her 
 children to God, and has gone with them into the western wilds, must 
 now die crushed with the tremendous thought, that she became a 
 mother, merely that she might people the realms of death. Already 
 she has hung her harp upon the willows, and there it must hang, till 
 some kind missionary enters the door of her cabin, and wipes 
 away her tears ; and this missionary we must educate. Ten long 
 years must still roll away before he arrives, and she in the mean 
 time, bleached by the frosts of age, trembles on the brink of the 
 grave, but dare not die till her hopes are accomplished, and her 
 children saved. 
 
 And who are these inhabitants of the forest 1 They are our 
 fathers and mothers, our brethren and sisters, our children, our 
 friends and neighbors. They were born in the houses we occupy, 
 have gone from our families and our bosom, were the companions 
 of our childhood and our youth. We took sweet counsel together, 
 and went to the house of God in company. Hence the cry they 
 utter sounds in our ears loud and eloquent as the shrieks of death. 
 If we do not hear nor help them, then the mother has forgot her suck- 
 ing child, and feels no compassion for the son of her womb. Do 
 you say, They shall have a gospel ministry I My heart responds, 
 They shall. 
 
 But I hear too the voice of the savage, sounding from the bosom 
 of that trackless forest still beyond. And there is in that cry a wild 
 and native eloquence. 
 
 " You have stripped us of our hunting ground ; all in life that 
 
404 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 we held de"ar ; you have corrupted our morals ; our tribes, already 
 incalculably diminished, have nothing before them but the dreary 
 idea of being swallowed up, unless it be the more fearful appre- 
 hension of perishing for ever in our sins. Once we were the heirs 
 of your soil, we now only ask to die the heirs of that salvation, 
 which is revealed to you in your Bibles." A cry like this has 
 been uttered and is heard. Already the heralds of salvation have 
 gone to look up the remnants of their depopulated tribes, and point 
 them to a Savior. Their sun is setting in the west, and we should 
 give evidence that we had their unpitying nature as well as their 
 soil, were we willing to see it go down in total darkness. If the 
 few that remain may live for ever, it alleviates the retrospect of 
 their wrongs, and creates one luminous spot in the Egyptian cloud 
 that hangs over the place of their fathers' sepulchres. I would 
 give any price for their forgiveness and their blessing ; and it 
 cheers my heart that my country is beginning to pay the long ar- 
 rears which are due to that injured people. 
 
 Now suppose, that not merely from the west, but from other 
 heathen lands, we hear a cry for the gospel. If the millions of 
 India ask us to send them back in Bibles and missionaries the wealth 
 we have imported from their shores, we can say to them, " Be ye 
 warmed and be ye fed 1 If Palestine, and the shores of the Medi- 
 terranean, are seen pining with spiritual famine, and should beg us 
 to send them that bread of heaven which their forefathers sent to 
 ours, would there be no eloquence in that prayer 1 Or if Africa, 
 poor ill-fated Africa, should beg us to make them a Sabbath and build 
 them a sanctuary, and send them a Bible and a missionary j would 
 they deserve no answer 1 Or if they should be too much oppressed 
 to utter any cry, and we should only know that their highest Deity is 
 a serpent, and their richest hope the repose of the grave, can we 
 pass by on the other side 1 Their sons have served our fathers 
 and us ; we have taught them nothing but our vices ; and if now, 
 when the promise is about to be fulfilled, and Ethiopia is stretch- 
 ing out her hands unto God, we should refuse them the gospel, 
 how can we answer for the stripes, and chains, and servitude, and 
 famine, with which we have taxed them? What defence can ' 
 we make when their compasssionate Redeemer shall advocate 
 their cause. 
 
 Poor Africa must share, though late, the blessings of the gos- 
 pel ; it must be sent to the shores of Palestine, must be propagat- 
 ed in India, must sound through every isle of the ocean, and must 
 go, with its stores of blessings, to every section of this dark and 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 405 
 
 desolate world. But it cannot be sent ; the miseries that it would 
 alleviate must remain without a cure, till there is a great augment- 
 ation of the army of evangelists. Hence we must use the materi- 
 als and employ the means in our power to equip young men for 
 this service. And every year's delay will bury millions who have 
 never heard of Christ, and have no faith in his blood. Hence we 
 are urged to the work, by all that is fleeting in time, by all that is 
 valuable in the soul, by all that is bright and rich in the thought 
 of heaven, and by all that is dark and dreary in the idea of hope- 
 less perdition. 
 
 IV. Union in the Christian world will insure success. Said the 
 young men to the aged and venerable Elisha, " Be content, we 
 pray thee, and go with thy servants." There was union ; and very 
 soon the trees of Jordan fell, and the school of the prophets was 
 builded. How simple, how interesting, and how full of instruc- 
 tion is this page of sacred story ! How the venerable prophet, as 
 he bore up a beam from the wood, evinced his faith in the cove- 
 nant, nerved the young men to exertion, and magnified his office ! 
 Let the Christian world unite, and the work we propose will be 
 easy. When all shall do a little, none will be burdened. We can 
 educate teachers for ourselves, and furnish a surplus for the out- 
 casts of Israel. And to do it all we hardly need deny ourselves a 
 single comfort. We have only to gather up the fragments and let 
 nothing be lost, and they will feed millions of the hungry. When we 
 can unite in the effort, it will be easy to do all that duty and that 
 benevolence require. The waste places will be repaired, the desti- 
 tute will be furnished with the bread of heaven, the heathen will 
 be tamed to civility, and will burn their temples and their idols, 
 Ethiopia will stretch our her hands unto God, the posterity of 
 Abraham will own their allegiance to their Savior, and be again 
 grafted into their own olive tree, the Turk and the Arab will ex- 
 change the mosque and the Koran for the sanctuary and the Bible, 
 the Tartar will pitch permanently his tent about the house of the 
 missionary, and Jesus, the long neglected Redeemer, will receive 
 the kingdom, the power and the glory for ever. 
 
 And there is nothing visionary in all this. It is all promised, it 
 is all expected, it will soon transpire ; and the man who will not 
 believe, like the infidel of Samaria, may die in the gate, while the 
 perishing inhabitants of a world are rushing to the banquet of the 
 Lamb. The angel, flying through the midst of heaven, and having 
 the everlasting gospel to preach to them that dwell on the earth, 
 
406 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 will publish it to every kindred, and nation, and tongue, and people. 
 This angel is the gospel ministry, and this prediction is fast 
 accomplishing. 
 
 Will any ask, What has all this to do with the present occasion 1 
 The answer is obvious. You have met to lay the foundation of 
 an institution, designed to recruit the ranks of the gospel ministry. 
 There are many who would become soldiers of the cross, if any 
 would equip them. The subscribers to this generous -fund, and 
 the founders of this noble edifice, have in view this single object. 
 It is an institution, in some respects, like no other that ever rose ; 
 designed to bestow gratis a liberal education upon those who will 
 enter the gospel ministry, but who are too indigent to defray the 
 expense of their own induction. It has been founded, and must 
 rise by charity. And every man who shall bring a beam or a rock, 
 who shall lay a stone or drive a nail, from love to the kingdom of 
 Christ, shall not fail of his reward. I believe this institution will 
 collect about it the friends of the Lord Jesus, who will be fed by 
 their philanthropy and watered by their prayers, and will yet be- 
 come a fountain pouring forth its streams to fertilize the bound- 
 less wastes of a miserable world. In vision I see it among the 
 first institutions of our land, the younger sister and the best friend 
 of our theological seminaries, the centre of our education societies, 
 the solace of poverty, the joy of the destitute, and the hope and 
 the salvation of perishing millions.* 
 
 Connected as it is with the recruit of the ministry, the salvation 
 of souls, and the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, it will rise, and 
 will soon have a claim upon the charity, the prayers, and the tears 
 of the whole Christian community. If some who may aid in the 
 work have other motives than the glory of God, still I will hope, 
 and I do believe, that the great mass of the donors have their eye 
 upon the future glories of Immanuel, and are erecting this insti- 
 tution as a monument to his honor. And having put their hand 
 to the plough, they will not look back. They will still enlarge 
 their charities, and increase their hopes, till this sacred spot, where 
 they are erecting the school, has attracted the gaze, and gladdened 
 the aching hearts of believers in every destitute section of our 
 land. 
 
 The subject now makes its appeal to all classes of men, to all 
 the tender relationships of life, and to all the sympathies of human 
 
 * We are happy to say that this prediction has been fulfilled long before this 
 time. 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 407 
 
 nature. Its first appeal is to the churches of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 They are the sacred depositaries of divine truth, and are obligated 
 to perpetuate the ministry of reconciliation. Here you may edu- 
 cate your children, born in your late revivals, and committed to 
 your care to train up for the Lord. Here you see revived the 
 hope and the promise of your future prosperity. " Thy children 
 shall all be taught of the Lord, and great shall be the peace of thy 
 children." Here we hope will be educated many of your future 
 pastors. You have here an additional pledge, that God has not 
 forsaken you, and that he will never leave the vine he has planted 
 in this western world, to be trodden down by the boar of the 
 wood, or wasted by the lapse of time, or the ravages of death. 
 " Thy teachers shall not be removed into a corner any more, but 
 thine eyes shall see thy teachers." 
 
 And congregations have a singular interest. You have had just 
 occasion to fear that you might one day become waste places, 
 through a lack of pastors. But the thought must be dreadful, 
 whether you regard a future life, or only the present. When the 
 lips which now address you in your respective sanctuaries, are 
 cold in death, and you are met to pay the last offices of affection 
 to your deceased pastors, how it would darken the glooms of that 
 evening, and lessen your hopes of salvation, to apprehend a famine 
 of the word. But the most judicious, till the Church waked to the 
 duty of educating fyerself a ministry, feared all this. The increase 
 of our population, and the urgent claims of the heathen and the 
 destitute, seemed to leave us, till we discovered this remedy, no- 
 thing to look for but ultimate desertion and ruin. For with the 
 gospel, it was known there would desert us the Sabbath and all 
 those institutions which are the glory of our land. Hence the 
 very infidel, who has no hope for himself and his children beyond 
 the grave, but would have them civil, and decent, and wealthy, 
 and happy in the present life, has a deep interest in this institu- 
 tion. 
 
 But the subject addresses itself specially to believers. You love 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, and love his Church, and have a deep in- 
 terest in whatever has respect to his honor. And the eternal life 
 of souls is near your heart. If this institution then promises to 
 promote either of these objects, it will be dear to your hearts. 
 And you know the ministry is appointed for the perfecting of the 
 saints and for the edifying of the body of Christ. Of course an 
 institution designed to enlarge this ministry, is connected inti- 
 mately with your best interests, your highest pleasures, and your 
 
408 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS.' 
 
 richest hopes. And as you shall see its walls rise, we shall pre- 
 sume on your co-operation and your prayers. 
 
 The inhabitants of this whole vicinity have a deep interest in 
 this institution. It will not confine its blessings to you, but it will 
 offer you its benefits with the fewest inconveniences. If God has 
 given your children his grace, you have here an opportunity to 
 educate them at your own threshold. And if you are too poor to 
 purchase the privilege, still this institution opens to you its doors 
 Nor is the thought to be despised, that here there will be collected 
 those who have an interest at the throne of grace, and whose 
 daily supplications must bring a blessing upon the whole vicinity. 
 
 To parents this subject cannot want interest. If there should 
 be no prospect that our own children be here prepared for useful- 
 ness, still the institution will stand, we trust, when our bodies have 
 mouldered in the grave, and be a nursery for our children's child- 
 ren down through many generations. In an age like this, preg- 
 nant with such high and holy promise to the rising generation, it 
 is a blessing to be a parent. We may have higher hopes than any 
 age that has gone by, that God will pour out his Spirit upon our 
 seed, and his blessing upon our offspring. 
 
 The friends of correct sentiment will rejoice to see a school of 
 the prophets opened among a people who believe the truth, and in 
 a neighborhood where there is a pious and orthodox ministry, 
 where prevail the doctrines of our forefathers, and where the as- 
 surance is so strong, that these same funds shall never be per- 
 verted from their original design. We have seen error attempting 
 to roll its desolating flood through our churches. We have seen 
 prostituted to the vile purpose of disseminating false doctrines, 
 funds that were consecrated to the interests of truth. We have 
 seen the Redeemer degraded to a mere attribute, an angel, a man, 
 and even a sinner, by the very charities that were intended to give 
 him a throne in every heart, and an altar in every house. We 
 have seen fountains, opened by the liberality of a pious ancestry, 
 so poisoned, that every stream they issued carried sterility and 
 death through the provinces they were designed to fertilize. Next 
 to the grace of God, and relying on his blessing, the best means 
 of cleansing those waters, or damming these streams, is to prepare 
 for the churches a full supply of scribes well instructed in the 
 kingdom of God. And the hope could hardly be stronger, that 
 the funds here deposited for that purpose, will be for ever held 
 sacred to the design for which they were consecrated. 
 
 The poor will feel a special interest in every transaction relative 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 4-09 
 
 to this institution. The fund subscribed is exclusively for them, 
 and can never be diverted from their use. Here then is one in- 
 stitution where envy can have no employ. The rich would not be 
 willing that the Christian public should educate their children, they 
 would prefer to purchase the benefit. Once it was said, " To the 
 poor the gospel is preached" now the poor may become qualified 
 to preach the gospel. They may dispense the blessings which it 
 has been their province to receive, may teach where it was their 
 privilege to learn, may become beneficiaries to an extent that shall 
 qualify them to become benefactors. Here, if you cannot educate 
 your own children, and God has given them his grace, and they 
 are otherwise qualified, you may send them to live by the temple 
 and feed upon its offerings, till they are prepared to be prophets 
 in Israel. 0, it must carry hope and joy into the habitations of 
 poverty to day, to know that there is laid the foundation of an in- 
 stitution, destined to pour its blessings exclusively upon the indi- 
 gent ! This is a blessing that has lain so beyond their hopes as 
 to have hardly been an object of their prayers. Before they have 
 called, God has answered. Hence, to the full extent of their 
 power they will pour into this fund the little streams of their cha- 
 rity, and will watch the progress of its rising honors and its grow- 
 ing interests with paternal fondness and solicitude. 
 
 Nor will the rich have any feelings but those of pleasure. All 
 other institutions have opened their doors to them, while this one, 
 which promises promotion to the children of their poorer neigh- 
 bors, will receive their patronage and their prayers. Nor can 
 they know but their posterity may be poor, and one day hang their 
 last hope on the promised aid of this kind and benevolent insti- 
 tution. 
 
 I cannot suppress my wish to recommend this institution to the 
 patronage of females. They have recently signalized themselves 
 as the friends of religion and of the gospel ministry. Many an 
 
 tbassador of the cross owes his courage and his success, to their 
 irities and their prayers. Here they will have opportunity, I 
 hope, to see some of their noblest wishes gratified. Here they 
 may consecrate their charities, and toward this place may turn 
 their eye when they pray, and find their spirits cheered, their 
 prayers answered, and their hopes accomplished. In the zeal they 
 show for these objects, they evince that they know how to appre- 
 ciate their own comforts. The gospel, in addition to the promise 
 of eternal life, renders them free, respected, and happy, in the life 
 that now is. 
 
 52 
 
410 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 This institution has a claim upon the patriot. No country is so 
 blessed as when science and religion blend their influences, and 
 shower upon society their united blessing. But this school, more 
 than any other, will tend to that balance of influence, and approx- 
 imate us toward that equality, which is ever the Basis of a govern- 
 ment like ours. It will raise the poor, widen the bonds of affec- 
 tion, and vastly increase the amount of happiness. We hope to 
 enlist in this benevolent design the whole aggregate of patriotism 
 within the compass of its influence. 
 
 The ministers of Christ will say, God speed, to an enterprize 
 calculated to increase the laborers in the vineyard. We shall thus 
 give evidence to the world, that all we say respecting the scarcity 
 of ministers we fully believe ; for if things were otherwise, we 
 could not act more unwisely for our own interest than to thus 
 raise up rivals, who might rob us of our parishes and our bread. 
 How it must gladden our aged fathers, to see an institution rise, 
 designed to prolong the cry of glad tidings, which begins to die 
 away upon their palsied lips. When they can address sinners no 
 more, and can only cast an eye over the valley of vision, and sur- 
 vey the vast fields of the slain, it will rejoice their hearts to see 
 other prophets taking their stand by the side of that valley, intend- 
 ing to prolong the prophecy till the dry bones have become living 
 men. When the aged Elisha went with the young prophets to the 
 banks of Jordan, to cheer them in their toils, and aid them with 
 his counsels and his prayers, he showed a strong regard to the 
 future welfare of Israel, and deeply engraved his memory upon the 
 hearts of the young prophets. Unless I greatly mistake the feel- 
 ings of my aged fathers, their eyes will be bright with joy while 
 they see these walls go up. They will fall on their knees, and 
 spread their hands toward heaven, and give us their dying bless- 
 ing ; and may their prayers return into their own bosom. 
 
 If now, in my concluding remarks, I should address you as 
 Christians, I would say, This institution, if permitted to rise, (an^ 
 we look to God for this permission,) and if not grossly perverted 
 from its original design, is connected intimately with the disper- 
 sion of that Egyptian darkness which has so long brooded over an 
 apostate world ; with all that is interesting in the rescue of the 
 idolater from his gods, the Papist from his relics and his saints, 
 the Jew from his Talmud, the Mahometan from his Koran, the 
 African from his chains, and the assassin from his pistol and his 
 knife. You have enlightened views of your Maker, have a Bible, 
 a sabbath, and a sanctuary, can feast at the table of the Lord, and 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 411 
 
 entertain hopes of a rich and happy immortality. I plead for those 
 who are immortal like you, and like you must die, and be judged, 
 but have never learned the true character of God, nor heard the 
 story of a Savior, nor have discovered any escape from the glooms 
 of the sepulchre ; who look to that home as the seat of perpetual 
 darkness, forgetfulness and silence ; who have never kept a day 
 of rest, and can hope to remit their toils, their cares and their mis- 
 eries, only when their heads shall slumber on the turf. Religion 
 would make them as happy as you, and heaven as blessed. 
 
 But I do not appeal exclusively to piety, but to all the tender feel- 
 ings of humanity. When you cast your eye over the dark places 
 of the earth, which are full of the habitations of cruelty, every 
 aspect of wretchedness which you descry, gives importance to the 
 transactions of this day. We plead for the unhappy, for the lost, 
 and the miserable. I think I see, without the aid of inspiration, a 
 band of missionaries, educated in this school, issuing forth to 
 chase misery from this polluted world. 
 
 You are a father, are loved by your children, and cherished with 
 that tenderness which your infirmities and your age require ; we 
 plead for fathers, who in their declining years are deserted by 
 their children, and left to perish by the frosts of age, who are 
 borne to the bed of some river, that they may be* swept away by 
 the tide, and become the food of the shark or the alligator. 
 
 You are a mother, and perhaps a widow, and your children would 
 shrink from no sacrifice that might prolong your life, or soothe 
 your pains or your cares ; I plead for mothers whose offspring are 
 monsters, and can force them at the point of the spear upon the 
 flames that are consuming the corpse of a husband, and can drown 
 their dying shrieks in acclamations of infernal joy. 
 
 You was left in your infancy an orphan, and have found in this 
 inhospitable world a guardian and a friend, who has nursed your 
 childhood, and watched your youth, and reared you to respectable 
 and promising manhood ; I plead for orphans, who have no home 
 but in the place of sculls, no house but the house of silence, where 
 sleep the ashes of a merciless mother, no friend but death, who 
 stops the rage of hunger, blunts the edge of care, extinguishes the 
 fire of affection and hope, and finds the wretched a covert and a 
 calm amid the clods of the valley. 
 
 If the relief of miseries like these has the least connection with 
 the events of this day, these events will have some claim upon the 
 sympathy of every feeling heart. If we might only hope, that by 
 means of this institution, one more missionary, than would other- 
 
412 THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 
 
 wise be educated, will enter the fields of labor, and go to some one 
 province of this dark world, and there create a light that shall guide 
 home to heaven one benighted soul, it would be worth all the pains and 
 the wealth that shall be expended in founding this school. " The 
 redemption of the soul is precious and it ceaseth for ever." You 
 might cover that field with silver and gold, and if the whole would 
 buy off one soul from perdition it would be well expended. And 
 I must believe that more than one missionary will be sent, and more 
 than one sinner be redeemed, by the means that are here providing ; 
 and in the boundless joys thus generated, shall find all the reward 
 I wish, for any plea I can offer, or any exertions I can make, to 
 advance this interest. 
 
 If we are utterly mistaken, and any feel otherwise, we rejoice 
 that the field of labor is large. They may glorify God in some 
 other way, may feed the poor, disperse the Scriptures, support the 
 missionaries already educated, or educate others in some other 
 school. Or if any will neither aid this charity nor any other, and 
 their consciences will approve' of their neutrality, they shall re- 
 ceive no reproach from us if they do nothing. If we are disposed 
 to do good, and our motive is the glory of God, it will ill become 
 us to reproach others. To their own master they stand or fall. 
 
 In the mean time, I hope that those who cannot conscientiously 
 labor with us, will utter no reproaches, nor make any effort to dam 
 the streams of charity that might flow to this centre, and issue 
 hence to carry their fertilizing influence through the wastes of 
 this miserable world. If once the object was good, it is so still. 
 If unhappily some may not have had in view the Divine glory in 
 their most zealous efforts, still the character of the institution is 
 not changed, noT its importance diminished, nor its claims cancel- 
 led. I close with one remark to the friends of this institution. 
 
 How important is it, that we suitably prize and improve the 
 ministry established among us. What will it avail us that we 
 have pitied the destitute, and the heathen, if at last we die impeni- 
 tent, and sink below them in perdition. We may send them the 
 Bible and the ambassador of peace, and still neglect that book and 
 that ministry, and die unsanctified. The ministry can be a bless- 
 ing to the heathen, only as it may become the means of their con- 
 version ; hence to feel anxious for them, and found an institution 
 with a view to furnish them a ministry, and yet under the full ad- 
 vantages of that ministry live without God and without Christ in 
 the world, is to act with unpardonable disregard of our first best 
 duty. It would be a fearful event, if finally we should lift up our 
 
THE INDUSTRIOUS YOUNG PROPHETS. 413 
 
 voice and weep and say, " My mother's children made me the keeper 
 of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I not kept." Each 
 of us has a soul that must live for ever, that must be washed in a 
 Savior's blood, or must endure the terrors of his wrath ; to save 
 this soul is our first concern, and we may wake in its interests too 
 late. If we should give all our goods to feed the poor, and our 
 bodies to be burned, and yet lack that charity to which salvation 
 is promised, we should die fools at the last. It is true that the 
 religion of the gospel is benevolent ; it is true that the covetous 
 man is an idolater, and has not eternal life abiding in him, but 
 there is also a religion which all evaporates in care for the safety 
 of others, which has little to do with the closet, or the heart, or 
 the Bible, or heaven. O let this day bring us all to our knees. 
 Let the walls of this edifice be bedewed with the tears of repent- 
 ance, and may we all be pillars or polished stones in the mystical 
 temple, which Christ is erecting, that when the top-stone is laid 
 we may be there to aid the shout, Grace, grace unto it. " Amen, 
 even so come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." 
 
SERMON XXXV. 
 
 THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 JOHN XVII. 17. 
 Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word ie truth. 
 
 OUR Lord Jesus Christ was a perfect man. This we must be- 
 lieve as confidently as we believe his divinity, else we shall have 
 confused ideas of many portions of divine truth. And as he was 
 a perfect man, and would be in all things a pattern of what his 
 people should be, he must have a perfect religious character, and 
 perform the Christian duties as far as they would be applicable to 
 his exalted nature. Hence, we often find him engaged in prayer. 
 
 Whatever difficulty there may be in the idea of a divine Re- 
 deemer's praying, the fact we are bound to believe. In his infe- 
 rior character as Mediator, he acted by commission from the 
 Father, and would take instructions from him, and put confidence 
 in him.. When the last scene was coming on, and he knew that 
 soon he must hang upon the tree, he offered that memorable prayer 
 from which the text is selected. He prayed most tenderly for his 
 people ; and among the first blessings asked, he prayed for their 
 sanctification through the truth. 
 
 There cluster about this subject many interesting questions^ to some 
 of which I purpose to turn your attention. 
 
 I. What do the Scriptures mean by sanctification 1 Sometimes 
 it means being set apart to sacred use. Thus every seventh day 
 is sanctified. " God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it." 
 Thus the tabernacle and temple, the priests and altars, and sacrifi- 
 ces, and all the sacred things of the Jewish dispensation were 
 sanctified. 
 
 God speaks of sanctifying his name, which he does when by his 
 judgments he rebukes the gainsayers, and stills their blasphemies. 
 He thus convinces men that he is holy. 
 
 I could name many other uses of the term sanctification ; but its 
 principal use, and that intended in the text, is, in application to the 
 work of rendering an unholy creature holy. Men are by nature 
 
THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF SANCTIFICATION. 415 
 
 unholy. They exercise forbidden affections, and do not put forth 
 the affections that God requires. The prayer of Christ in the text 
 was, that his followers, through the instrumentality of truth, might 
 be made what God requires them to be ; having the affections of 
 the heart, and, of course, the deeds of the life, conformable to the 
 divine law. 
 
 II. Another question may here very properly be, When does 
 this holiness begin \ And the answer is obvious. It begins at the 
 moment of regeneration. Till then, all the exercises are unholy ; 
 for " the carnal mind is enmity against God." Nor is there any 
 degree of alarm, or any amount of conviction, that can generate 
 one holy affection in the heart, previously to this period. Of 
 course all the prayers offered, and all the exertions made, prior to 
 this change, are unregenerate prayers and exertions. Nor can it 
 be believed, consistently with correct Scripture views, that, ante- 
 rior to this moment, there is any approximation toward correct 
 feeling. No alarm, nor the most distinct conviction, can bring an 
 unregenerate man to feel any more correctly toward God, or any 
 holy object, than he did in a state of carelessness and security. 
 And although we would not pretend to say that the Divine influence 
 in the hour of awakening may not restrain the sinner, and hold 
 him back from the blasphemous thoughts and affections which he 
 might otherwise put forth, yet in all this there is no holiness. 
 
 And then it may be a question whether the sinner, under glarm, 
 does not wax worse and worse, till the moment of passing from 
 death unto life. If he has more light if he sees more distinctly 
 the objects of his implacable hatred, does he not obviously rjse in 
 his hatred, till it is changed into love'! This point, however, it is 
 not my object to press. We must concede that holiness begins 
 when the heart is changed. 
 
 III. Is it always small in its beginning ? Does that text in which 
 the kingdom of God is compared to a grain of mustard seed, and 
 that other where it is compared to leaven, teach us that grace in 
 the heart is thus small at the first \ Or do they illustrate the pri- 
 mitive smallness of the Christian Church, and its ultimate growth 
 and enlargement! They may be meant to apply in both cases, 
 but aside from these texts, we are taught unequivocally in the 
 Scriptures, that the believer is, at the first, sanctified but in a small 
 degree, and that he " grows in grace" till he arrives at the fulness 
 of the stature of a perfect man in Christ Jesus. He is at the first. 
 
416 THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF SANCTIFICATION, 
 
 a " babe, and has need of milk, and not of strong meat." After 
 wards, he " forgets the things that are behind, and reaches forth 
 to those things that are before, and presses toward the mark for 
 the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." The li^ht 
 that has shined in upon him shines " brighter and brighter unto 
 the perfect day." Hence, we gather, that though the work of re- 
 generation is from its very nature instantaneous, the work of sanc- 
 tification is progressive, and is, at the first, comparatively small. 
 
 IV. But how will this comport*with what believers have thought 
 was their experience that at the first they felt a glow of holy af- 
 fection, which they termed their first love, which afterward they 
 lost! And the Scriptures, they have supposed, favored the idea. 
 " Thus saith the Lord, I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, 
 the love of thine espousals, when thou wentest after me in the 
 wilderness, in a land that was not sown." But was that love of 
 espousals, thus accredited to Israel, all holy love 1 or was it not, 
 in great part at least, merely that natural joy which might arise 
 from the comfort, and pride, and novelty of their emancipation ! It 
 surely soon vanished, and they murmured, and made them gods, 
 under whose guidance they purposed to return to Egypt. And 
 that whole congregation, you know, died in the wilderness. They 
 were, evidently, as a body, destitute of holiness f hence their love 
 of espousals must be explained as something else than delight in 
 God. 
 
 But why may not the same be said often of that joy with which 
 the heart of the new-born seems to overflow I Can we be allowed 
 to believe it is all holy love to God 1 There can be, as yet, but 
 little knowledge of God, or of truth. Hence that strong affection 
 can hardly be allowed to flow wholly from objects so dimly seen. 
 Is there not often far greater probability, that it is the mere effu- 
 sion of animal affection 1 Or, at least, that it has far more of na- 
 ture in it than of grace. There may not seem, afterward, the 
 same hilarity ; but is there not more knowledge of truth and duty, 
 and more stability in the ways of God, more fixed principles of ac- 
 tion, more humility, and more undeviating confidence in the Sa- 
 vior 1 
 
 In which position would the believer most readily go to the 
 stake, and lay down his life for his Master 1 when, during the first 
 month of his regeneracy, he fills the air with his song 1 or, when 
 a few years afterward, he has learned the corruption of his heart, 
 and at-times, perhaps, hardly dare hope that he is born of God l 
 
THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF S A NOTIFICATION. 417 
 
 May not the joy abate, and there be, at the same time, an increase 
 of the principle of holiness that develops a heavenly mind 1 Sure- 
 ly it is the believer of continued experience, and not the man re- 
 newed but yesterday, that is rooted and grounded in the truth, and 
 who cannot be driven about with every wind of doctrine. Whether 
 this question is decided right, however, I wish each one to judge 
 for himself. 
 
 V. Another question arising out of this subject is does the 
 good man at all times advance in holiness ? and are we so to un- 
 derstand that text, " The righteous shall hold on his way" ! Here, 
 perhaps, again, it is not easy to come at what we are sure is truth. 
 I have believed that it is otherwise, and that, while there are times 
 when the good man progresses rapidly, there are other times when 
 he makes no progress, and others, again, when the progress of ho- 
 liness, if I may so speak, is backward. Thus Israel, sometimes, 
 bent their track directly to the promised land, at other times did 
 not move for many days, and at other times marched retrograde. 
 So we have seen the plant spring up and grow as if life was in it, 
 and then perhaps for weeks seem stationary, and then again with- 
 ering under drought, and seemingly about to perish. Whether 
 these analogies may teach us truth or mislead us, still I have be- 
 lieved it thus with the child of God. And the only position con- 
 tested, I believe, is, whether the Christian is ever in the way to 
 do himself essential injury. That broad promise, " All things 
 shall work together for good to them that love God," has been 
 used as implying the negative. That the promise is true, and that 
 the full import of it will be accomplished, there cannot be a doubt. 
 But what is its import 1 Does God merely promise, in this pre- 
 cious text, that all the events of his providence shall conspire to 
 bring his people to a higher seat in heaven 1 Or does he promise 
 all this, and more too, that their very backsliding shall conspire to 
 the same result 1 Would he promise, that if they forsake him, 
 and sin by going after their idols, this very sin shall tend to purify 
 them ! Would it be safe to trust a wandering believer with such 
 a promise in his hand 1 Is it reasonable to believe that it will 
 tend to the health and growth of the heavenly mind, to have it 
 wounded, and polluted, and ensnared by transgression 1 Have -we 
 any assurance that Peter and David might not have reached a 
 nobler Christian stature, if they had stood firm in the hour of 
 temptation ^ I confess, I think there is no such assurance. 
 53 
 
4-18 THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 Do not facts warrant us to believe that Christian minds of the 
 same powers and opportunities, have made different degrees of ad- 
 vance in the ways of God 1 The one is seen to climb the steeps 
 of Zion, with brisk and steady step, and far outgo the other, while 
 to us there appears no reason why the other might not have led 
 in the enterprise. The professor who comes at length to the 
 grave in old age, and, as we hope, a believer, but who can look 
 back upon whole years of relapse and of wandering, has he those 
 marks of maturity, and that animating hope, and that strong and 
 conquering faith, seen in the man who moved steadily on in the 
 ways of God, till his Master called him 1 You are thinking, per- 
 haps, while you read, of two old men, contemporaries who died, 
 it may be in the same year, members of the same communion, the 
 one having hardly deviated from the path of life an hour, while the 
 other has seemed to be alternately a Christian or a worldling, as the 
 times were. Now which of them seemed manifestly to fall asleep in 
 Jesus, while the other was saved perhaps, though as by fire 1 You 
 have all answered me. Pass through our Churches, and tell me 
 where is the venerated man of God, who is to the world around 
 him a walking conscience, and carries heaven on his brow, in 
 whose life there have not been some dark seasons of marked, and 
 guilty, and hurtful relapse 1 Let me say, I do not believe that the 
 Christian does make uniform progress in holiness, but does some- 
 times become stationary, and sometimes retrograde in the heavenly 
 road. 
 
 VI. Are we then to believe, that while every Christian in heaven 
 will be perfect, there will still be a difference in their Christian sta- 
 ture, and their amount of enjoyment proportioned to their industry 
 in acquiring holiness in the present life 1 On this point there can be 
 very little doubt. There will be a difference in heaven among re- 
 deemed spirits, as one star differeth from another star in glory. 
 Doubtless God will have employment for them all in his kingdom. 
 As in a building there is a variety of materials, places to fill requir- 
 ing more and less strength, but all necessary ; so in that mystic 
 temple whose topstone is to be laid in heaven with shouting, 
 Grace, grace unto it, there may be required, to give it its greatest 
 strength and beauty, souls of very different capacities. 
 
 VII. It is then obvious that we are ourselves selecting the posi- 
 tion we shall occupy in heaven, if any. On our industry will de- 
 
THE NATURE AND RESULTS OF SA NOTIFICATION. 419 
 
 pend our growth ; and on our growth our station in the kingdom 
 of the Redeemer. And how can men be indifferent what is the 
 position they shall hold among the redeemed in heaven ! Increas- 
 ing holiness bears its present fruits, gives its immediate as well as 
 its future rewards. In what other enterprise, then, shall we be so 
 ambitious to succeed as in this 1 If there is any one thing sur- 
 prising above all others, it is that believers in Christ should be 
 slow to put on his image. The Psalmist would never be satisfied 
 till he awaked from death in the likeness of his Redeemer. There 
 is surely no joy like that which is begotten by a holy temper : 
 hence, how can one who has tasted this joy, find any other plea- 
 sures, which, for a single hour, can become its substitute 1 Let 
 me close by presenting a few motives to engaging with ardor in 
 this heavenly enterprise. 
 
 1. I have hinted that we shall be happy in proportion as we are 
 holy. We are mistaken in supposing that any particular circum- 
 stances are requisite to render us happy. There is but one thing 
 requisite, likeness to Jesus Christ. And this is a happiness within 
 the reach of us all, in proportion as we are willing to exercise his 
 temper, and copy his example, and put on his image. Hence that 
 rich and precious intimation, " Christ in you the hope of glory." 
 
 2. We shall be useful, other things being equal, in proportion as 
 we are holy. No good man can be satisfied who feels himself to 
 be living to no purpose. Find me the Christian who is never hap- 
 py, and, sure as life, he is never useful. He is a cumberer of the 
 ground, and can never reflect on the day that has gone by with 
 pleasure. The man who is not aiming to bless his generation may 
 dig after comforts, but he can never find them. He may read all 
 the promises over, day by day, but there will not be found a word 
 of consolation for him. He might derive more from some act of 
 real Christian benevolence, than he does from a whole Bible full 
 of consolations : and to be holy is the way to be useful. To fol- 
 low Christ has an eloquence in it that no exhortation, nor argu- 
 ment can hold out. " Be ye followers of me, as dear children." 
 
 3. There is dignity and character in being holy, that nothing else 
 can produce. What man is great like him who walks in the con- 
 sciousness of exercising the same affections that Christ does 1 In 
 what matter should not men feel indifferent, rather than be willing to 
 be losers in this mighty concern 1 How can it seem a small thing, 
 whether we put on, or not, the character that glows in the view 
 of heaven 1 the character that he wears who receives the homage 
 
4-20 THE NATURE AND BESULTS OF SANCTIFICATION, 
 
 of all the redeemed, and is adored by cherubim and seraphim 7 
 How comparatively trifling a matter is it, that we are honorable in 
 the estimation of those who judge according to the outward ap- 
 pearance. The apostle could say to his enemies, It is a small 
 thing that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment. How 
 noble his character, while he thus regarded supremely the inward 
 adornings of holiness ! Would we then aim at character charac- 
 ter that will stand the test when worlds are burned up let us 
 press on after HOLINESS. 
 
SERMON XXXVI. 
 
 THE MEANS OF SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 JOHN XVII. 17. 
 Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth. 
 
 THE grand purpose for which God gave to men a revelation of 
 his will, was, that the truth thus revealed might be the medium of 
 their sanctification. It is hence spoken of as the sword of the 
 Spirit, the Sanctifier. If it be asked, Why God does not make 
 men holy without the use of truth, we answer, that he would not 
 thus treat them as moral agents. There must be in that case a 
 mere act of his sovereignty, and man become virtuous without de- 
 sign. Indeed, it seems to me to be keeping within the record to 
 say, that men cannot be saved without a knowledge of Divine 
 truth, in consistency with the nature God has given them, and the 
 heaven he has provided for holy beings. The very nature of holi- 
 ness implies that men have felt the force of truth, and yielded 
 voluntarily to its influence. To repent implies, that we see the 
 truths, that the law is good, and that we have broken it, while we 
 were under the most sacred obligations to obey it. And faith im- 
 plies, that we feel distinctly the truths, that we are lost, that 
 Christ is able and willing to save, and has warranted us to make 
 application to him. Hence men cannot be forcibly made to repent 
 and believe, not acting themselves, voluntarily, in view of truth, 
 without an infringement of their agency. Or, rather, such faith 
 and repentance, if we could suppose its existence, would not be 
 their own act, and could not, on the Gospel plan, avail them to 
 salvation. Let us then inquire, how and why Divine truth is used in 
 rendering men holy. 
 
 I. It presents to view the objects of holy affection. To love 
 God is a holy affection. But God cannot be loved, till men are 
 acquainted with his character. In his word, his character is all 
 presented. Had we no Bible, we might see his mighty power and 
 Godhead in the works of creation ; but only in the oracles of God 
 do we see his whole character. There every attribute is written, 
 
422 THE MEANS OF SANGUIFICATION. 
 
 and the full Deity made known. JVbw, if we have that temper to 
 which goodness is lovely, we shall not fail to love him. 
 
 The complete character of the Lord Jesus Christ is, in the same 
 book of God, revealed for our faith. We can see for ourselves, 
 whether he has those attributes we can love, and is such a Savior 
 as we can trust in. There could be no faith in him without this 
 delineation of his character. 
 
 The Christian character, also, is presented in the Bible, as the 
 object of our affectionate regard. We there learn the divine law, 
 and have opportunity to approve : and the same may be said in 
 reference to every holy object on which God requires us to place 
 our esteem. 
 
 And we learn, too, in the same book, the objects we are required 
 to hate ; for holiness consists in feeling disgust towards the ob- 
 jects of unrighteousness, as well as complacency in righteous- 
 ness. There we learn the temper of our hearts, and all the moral 
 wrong in ourselves that we are to loathe and repent of. Thus a 
 primary use of truth in our sanctification is to present us with the 
 character of the objects toward which we are to exercise holy 
 affections, the objects we are required to love, and the objects we 
 are required to hate. 
 
 II. Another use of truth is to present motives to the exercise of 
 the right affections. The Bible amply assures us, that holiness is 
 a lovely attribute of character. It is what renders God lovely, 
 and angels, and the whole family of the redeemed. Hence holi- 
 ness is indispensable to good character ; and here is a motive to 
 aim at a high standard of holiness. 
 
 The Bible assures us, that only where there is holiness there is 
 happiness. This begets the peace and joy that reign in heaven; 
 while its opposite has occasioned the ruin of this world, and the 
 miseries of hell. These facts are so amply illustrated in the word 
 of God, as to show the loveliness of virtue, and the hatefulness of 
 vice, thus presenting us new motives to become holy. The Bible 
 presents motives to holiness, by drawing out holiness and depravity 
 to their final result -in heaven and in hell. In the one world, holi- 
 ness has produced its full effect in the everlasting peace and bless- 
 edness of its population ; in the other, too, its full effect in the 
 unspeakable misery of its hopeless inmates. Thus Bible truth 
 presents men with motives to become holy, and being urged home 
 by the Spirit of God upon the understanding and conscience, is 
 the medium of sanctification. 
 
THE MEANS OF SANCTIFICATION. 4<23 
 
 III. As holiness must beget the love of holiness, it must also 
 produce love to that truth which is the medium of its own produc- 
 tion. The Christian, then, wishing to progress in that holiness 
 which is begun in him, will be the friend of Bible truth, will aim 
 to grow in the knowledge of it. A's this is seen to be the medium 
 of his cleansing, and as he now aspires to be clean, he must desire 
 to know more of truth. All Bible truth will please him, for it all 
 has one and the same effect, his cleansing. He will thus be a 
 diligent student of the Bible, and will never feel that he knows 
 enough of it, while there remains in his heart or life one moral 
 pollution to be cleansed away. 
 
 IV. It will follow then, of course, that the Christian who is a 
 child in Bible knowledge, will be a child in holiness. To the same 
 extent that he remains ignorant of divine truth, he will remain un- 
 sanctified ; and men will learn^i/ithout inquiring of him, how much 
 attention he gives the sacred Wlume. Apparent exceptions to this 
 position are easily explained. We have seen men of small intel- 
 lect and small acquisitions in science, generally, who yet appeared 
 to be rapidly growing in holiness. In such cases, it will always 
 be found, on a close acquaintance, that, though the man may have 
 no general knowledge, he is daily conversant with the testimonies 
 of the Lord. If one will learn sanctifying truth, he may become 
 sanctified, though he may remain ignorant of other truth. We fre- 
 quently meet with the contrast of this case; men possessing a 
 large amount of general knowledge, but knowing little about their 
 Bible ; in which case there will not be seen much advancement in 
 the stature of piety. If we are acquainted merely with men and 
 money ; though we may be acute worldlings, this knowledge will 
 not tend to purify the heart. The knowledge that will render us 
 holy is to be gathered from the word of the Lord. " Sanctify them 
 through thy truth." 
 
 V. It would seem to be a truth unquestionable that the man- who 
 is under the process of sanctification, will have an increasing thirst 
 for a knowledge of divine truth, till he dies. As the heart be- 
 comes purified, the love of truth, the means of its purifying, must 
 increase. And let the thirst for truth increase, and it needs no ar- 
 gument to prove that men will grow in the knowledge of it. We 
 shall find, then, no believer who thinks he knows enough of the 
 Bible, no man, however old, or infirm, or poor, or occupied, or 
 neglected, if he has begun to be sanctified, who will not wish, by 
 
THE MEANS OF SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 learning more truth, to nourish the spiritual life that is begun. 
 More and more, as the cleansing operation goes on,, and he feels 
 the pleasure of being holy, will his mind be open to conviction, 
 and the truth become adapted to his taste as the honey and the 
 honeycomb. The love of truth, in the aged believer, becomes his 
 strongest appetite. Old men are not accustomed, you know, to 
 abandon, in their latter years, the objects of their appetite. How 
 often do they rather become the slaves of some strong governing 
 principle, which is seen at last to be mightier in death than ever ! 
 And in the man of God, who is struggling with his corruptions, 
 and desperately bent on the mastery, the appetite for truth must 
 be the ruling passion while his eye can see or his ear hear, or his 
 mind perceive, or his heart and conscience be impressed. He will 
 carry his Bible with him to his death-bed, and put it by his pillow, 
 and glance his dying eye upon its pages, and ask the by-standers 
 to teach him, and will be digesting some heavenly truth when life 
 goes out ; and the nourishment afforded his soul, by that last re- 
 flection, will add the finishing stroke to his sanctification. How 
 can it be otherwise ] Whomsoever it may condemn, though it 
 tear from myself the last hope I have, still it must be true, that as 
 grace advances in the heart, the love of truth will be enkindled. 
 As there can be no natural health, and the body cannot be strong 
 and vigorous after the appetite is gone ; so is there no spiritual 
 health, and the inner man is sickly and nerveless, where there is 
 no relish for truth. The case cannot be, where there is growth in 
 grace accompanied with a disrelish for the study of divine truth. 
 
 i 
 
 VI. It would seem, then, that it cannot be a light thing to reject, 
 or disrelish any doctrine of the Bible. Every doctrine must have 
 its use in rendering men holy, else it had not been taught in that 
 Bible sent to sanctify the world. God knew exactly what the case 
 required, what system of truth the Spirit could use to the best ad- 
 vantage, in rendering the world holy, and this he has published. 
 Hence, no part of it may be rejected as unwholesome, or innutri- 
 tious. Suppose a table spread, day by day, by one who perfectly 
 knew our constitutions, knew any disease that might be lurking 
 about the body, or any danger of the season or the climate that 
 needed to be guarded against, and we should presume to say, that 
 one article upon the table was injurious to health, and never taste 
 it ; how exactly would the case resemble that of the man who ima- 
 gines he has found, in the book of sanctifying truth, one doctrine 
 of pernicious tendency. How arrogant, in the preacher of the 
 
TilE MEANS OF SANCTIFICATIOJN. 425 
 
 gospel, to lay his hand on any doctrine which he may not preach, 
 or any duty he may not enforce, or promise or threatening which 
 he may not deal out to the friends or the foes of God ! And how 
 mistaken his people, who would have him suppress any paragraph, 
 or hold back any doctrine or maxim of the word of the Lord ! 
 Who can judge as well as he who gave the word 1 Who, among 
 the army that publish it, or the multitude who hear it, can tell bet- 
 ter than he, what kind of truth is suited to the exigency of a be- 
 trayed and ruined world 1 
 
 VII. It would seem, then, a matter of course, that sanctification 
 will be going on among the various classes of Christians, more or 
 less prosperously, in proportion to the amount of truth embraced 
 in their system. We may even determine, by this criterion, what 
 denomination is built the most substantially on the foundation of 
 the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cor- 
 ner-stone. There may be in a human system some truth, but not 
 the whole truth. There may be so much error as shall greatly 
 counteract the effect of truth. The system thus made out may be 
 somewhat calculated to sanctify ; and yet not the best calculated. It 
 may nourish a sickly and palsied religion, while it can never pro- 
 duce the strong, and vigorous, and useful man of God. It may 
 contain truth enough to bring men to heaven, and yet never pro- 
 duce, to shine in the firmament of God, many stars of the first 
 magnitude. In choosing our religion this one question should be 
 kept prominently in view : which is that that makes the most en- 
 lightened, the most benevolent, the most holy and heavenly temper 1 
 for there we shall assuredly find the most truth and the least error. 
 
 VIII. Might not believers be sooner ripe for heaven 1 or, rather, 
 might they not all be qualified in the time that God allows them, 
 after their second birth, for a higher seat in heaven than they do 
 ordinarily reach 1 Yes. They could learn more truth, could learn 
 it faster, and digest it better, and grow more vigorously, and pass 
 earlier the boundaries of Christian childhood, and thus arrive ear- 
 lier at the fulness of the stature of perfect men in Christ Jesus. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. May not that truth which is learned before regeneration, oper- 
 ate afterward to the forwarding of the believer in holiness 1 Yes. 
 It matters not how early truth is known. Give it then a free en- 
 trance at the first opening of the mind, and pray that it may please 
 the Spirit of God to use it for sanctification. The smallest lad in 
 54 
 
426 THE MEANS OF SANCT1FICATION. 
 
 the school may be learning now what will be useful and precious 
 truth to him, when he shall be shining a mighty orb in his profes- 
 sion, or afterward in heaven. 
 
 2. Is there not more hope, then, that the children in our Sab- 
 bath-schools will be converted, than those who are to-day lining 
 the fields, and fishing along the banks of the brook 1 No doubt. 
 They will have treasured up truth to exert a sanctifying and ele- 
 vating influence when the times of refreshing shall come from the 
 presence of the Lord. 
 
 3. Will not revivals prevail in the next generation, among a 
 younger class of sinners than in times past 1 Doubtless. As we 
 approach the millenium, and the Sabbath- schools shall have ma- 
 tured minds earlier for reading and reflecting, a younger and still 
 younger generation will be sanctified, till our revivals will all be 
 in the Sabbath-schools j and God will at length ordain praise, 
 according to his promise, from the mouths of babes and sucklings. 
 
 4f. And shall we not have then in our churches more active 
 young men, and a race of fathers and mothers that shall shine 
 brighter in the Church of God 1 Yes, young men will be indeed 
 " strong," and the patriarchal age will return, and every gray head 
 will indicate the presence of wisdom and holiness ; thus, there will 
 be far more select and pure assemblages for the supper of the Lamb. 
 
 5. And will not this be then a holier and happier world 1 So 
 the prophet sung : " The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and 
 the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf, and the young 
 lion, and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them." 
 
 6. And will there not then ascend to God nobler recruits of the 
 family of believers than in any of the ages that have gone by 1 
 Yes ; new constellations will appear in heaven. And the various 
 successions of the sanctified that shall then, at different times, 
 come home to glory, will for ever shine more brilliantly in the 
 kingdom of their Father. 
 
 7. And can we do nothing to hasten on that day, and swell the 
 hallelujahs of heaven 1 Yes ; let us seize the dear youth or child, 
 who a year or two hence will feel himself too old to be a scholar, 
 and press him into the Sabbath-school and Bible class, and have 
 his mind imbued with holy truth, before he gets that palsying 
 maxim, " too o/c/." Let us all gird ourselves anew ; let us cheer- 
 fully discharge every obligation ; and let it be our holy ambition 
 to share largely in the coming glory. They that be wise shall shine 
 as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that turn many to right- 
 eousness, as the stars for ever and eve)'. 
 
SERMON XXXVII. 
 
 THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 
 
 PSALMS cm. 3. 
 Who healeth all thy diseases. 
 
 THIS Psalm appears to have been a song of thanksgiving on being 
 recovered from sickness. Hence it is full of those tender recol- 
 lections that are prone to recur to the pious mind in such a sea- 
 son." " He will not always chide, neither will he keep his anger 
 for ever." " He hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor rewarded 
 us according to our iniquities." " Like as a father pitieth his child- 
 ren, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him : for he knoweth our 
 frame, he remembereth that we are dust." 
 
 With a mind filled with such reflections, David came with his 
 thank-offering to God, and called upon his soul, and all that was 
 within him, to bless that infinite goodness which preserved him in 
 the time of his calamity. It is, however, quite immaterial on what 
 occasion the Psalmist ascribes to God the praise of healing all his 
 diseases. 
 
 In nothing, perhaps, can pious minds see more distinctly the 
 good hand of God, than in the plagues and pains to which sin has 
 subjected their dying bodies. 
 
 I. Disease itself affords us one of our richest luxuries. This 
 remark will seem more paradoxical than it really is. But I pre- 
 sume no one who has been laid upon the bed of pain, will consider 
 the proposition false. There are moments, when, as the poet sings, 
 
 We shift from side to side by turns, 
 
 And 'tis a poor relief we gain, 
 
 To change the place but keep the pain. 
 
 In the attacks of disease, the jaded spirit is restless and perhaps 
 rebellious. A day has sometimes seemed an age, and a night a 
 little eternity. The sun has seemed to stop in his course, and 
 the moon has delayed her going down. The index that told of 
 the passing hours, seemed riveted to the point where it stood. 
 
428 THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 
 
 But the paroxism subsides, and the pleasure then felt in a single 
 moment, outweighs an hour of perfect health. To be able to 
 breathe without a groan, is then more pleasant, than when one 
 may wander the fields in May, and catch the richest, softest zephyr 
 that ever fanned creation. In these precious intervals, every 
 minute gathers the comforts of an hour, and every hour the plea- 
 sures of a month. It is impossible to describe, to one who has 
 not known the joy of a kind and timely release from the fierceness 
 of disease, the exquisite enjoyments of such an hour. And in this 
 we see the goodness of God. " Sorrow may endure for a night, 
 but joy cometh in the morning." There may remain still great 
 weakness, and much, that in other circumstances, would be called 
 distress ; but this is all forgotten amid the luxury of a temporary 
 release, and a hope still better. One that has entirely escaped 
 those severe attacks which immediately strip life of its comforts, 
 darkens every prospect, and unhinges the mind from the pursuit 
 of science, friendship, and piety, has failed to enjoy one of the 
 sweetest repasts ever tasted, except in some hours of divine re- 
 freshment. Now, how good is God, that, since we deserve and 
 expect to be scourged, he should mingle, with the pains and mis- 
 eries of the sick-bed, such high enjoyments ! Should enable us to 
 extract from the very agonies of a tortured body, high and precious 
 delights ! If I should look through the fields of creation, for some 
 one high and paramount testimony of the Divine beneficence, be- 
 side the gift a Savior, I should despair of finding one that would 
 lead me more promptly to absolute assurance of God's love, than 
 I am led by the seasons of gracious relief that interlard the ago- 
 nies of the sick-bed. But for these relaxations from suffering, 
 how soon would nature sink, even by the slightest disease ! How 
 many days would one endure the unceasing rage of a burning 
 fever 1 the perpetual throbbing of a mangled limb 1 the gripe of a 
 cholic 1 or even the aching of a tooth ? How soon would life go 
 out in agony, with any disease that attacks us, did not nature re- 
 cruit her strength, while the disease intermits its rage. A few 
 hours, when the pains have been unceasing, have often brought to 
 the sepulchre the very champions of our race, men who had seemed 
 to defy death, in any other armor, but the forked lightning, or the 
 eruptions of some treacherous ./Etna or Vesuvius. 
 
 Now, God would have been good, if his judgments had not been 
 so mingled with mercy ; if diseases had never quit the contest till 
 life was conquered, or the hand of God stayed'the plague. Then 
 the aching tooth had proved mortal, and an infection of the small- 
 
THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 429 
 
 est joint had in a few days carried putrefaction to the very foun- 
 tain of life. Hence, we can make no calculation as to the proba- 
 ole issue of any disease. If the disease makes its attack at some- 
 what distant periods, nature has time to recruit and to heal, but if 
 there be no periods of respite, the scene is soon closed. 
 
 II. We see Divine goodness in the, efforts that nature makes to ef- 
 fect her own cure. On this point, perhaps, the physician could in- 
 struct you more than the Divine ; and the fact is obvious, to every 
 discerning mind, that nature is often her own best physician. Many 
 of the remedies which ignorance prescribes in the hour of sick- 
 ness and of death, are so many barriers to the speedy return of 
 health. The limb that has been wounded by the luckless knife, 
 would often heal in a few hours, if the wound could be bathed 
 only with its own blood, and the severed fibres be permitted to 
 join their wounded parts. How soon will the fractured bone join 
 its broken parts, and become as firm as before ! How often will 
 nature create some new disease, that it may rid itself of the dan- 
 gers and the miseries engendered by some other ! The palate 
 takes disgust at food, when the stomach has lost its power to di- 
 gest ; and the food, if received, would endanger life. How often, 
 when the stomach has received the deadly potion, which to re- 
 tain would be quick destruction, does it exert all its power to cast 
 back the poison and keep life in its seat ! The very thorn that 
 pierces the plowman's foot, is thrown from its unwelcome bed by 
 nature's own efforts. 
 
 Were I more of a physician, I should love to enlarge this arti- 
 cle it develops the goodness of God. Many are wounded when 
 no surgeon is near; many are subjected to disease who are una- 
 ble to employ a physician ; and it often happens that he who should 
 cure is ignorant of the nature of the disease, and plies all his skill 
 to prevent nature from doing her office. In these distressing cases, 
 it often happens that nature cures herself. She attacks the disease, 
 and, in spite of every hindrance, conquers and cures. 
 
 Brethren, when 1 thus speak of nature, I do not use that word 
 as many do, who intend to exclude a God from his own creation. 
 By nature, I mean the unseen operation of his hand who healeth 
 all our diseases ; 1 mean God himself, operating by certain laws 
 which he has indented upon every part of our frame. The cure 
 is effected without a miracle, but not without the finger of God. 
 This we learn from the text. If we had to wait when attacked by 
 disease, till some angel came from heaven with the appropriate 
 
430 THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 
 
 specific, or till God himself spoke, as he did in Israel's camp, and 
 bid the disease abate, we should be no more dependent than now 
 on the immediate agenjsy of God. This is the very thought of 
 the text David, when.diseased, was cured like other men, by the 
 laws of matter, and by human means 5 still he takes occasion to 
 bless and praise Jehovah as him who healeth all our diseases. 
 
 III. The great variety of specifics found in every part of the crea- 
 tion, for the various diseases of men, speak the Divine goodness. 
 Probably there is not a plant or shrub that grows but yields us 
 either food or medicine. The severest poisons are, at length, in 
 many instances, considered the safest and speediest remedies. 
 They have almost all become tame and manageable, and, like food 
 itself, are hurtful only when taken without due regard to time and 
 quantity. The discoveries of every year add new light to this in- 
 teresting subject. The mineral and vegetable kingdoms are con- 
 stantly pouring their treasures into the chamber of distress. And 
 there seems an almJst inexhaustible variety. Hence they furnish 
 a specific for every disease. Even that most dire of all plagues, 
 the hydrophobia, a disease which I can scarcely mention without 
 horror, is thought at length to yield to the virtue of one plant, 
 very common in all countries. , If the serpent bite, the remedy is 
 found on the spot. If one plant has poisoned us, there is another 
 growing by its side that can counteract its influence. In some in- 
 stances, two of the deadliest substances are, when united, not only 
 harmless, but wholesome. The same shower and the same sun- 
 shine caused the poison and the antidote to vegetate side by side. 
 They grow like brethren, perhaps resemble each other, but one has 
 the power to kill and the other to heal. 
 
 Now in all this how good is God ! He could have sent the 
 plague without the remedy, the poison without the antidote. It 
 would be our shame if we could withhold our praise, and yet live 
 in a world so full of the glory of God, where every plant and shrub 
 and mineral speaks his praise, and every disease yields to the spe- 
 cific he prescribes. 
 
 IV. It still is true that it is God who healeth all our diseases. 
 But for that wisdom which he has given to man, physicians could 
 never have known their nature, or the virtue of those plants and 
 minerals which are their appointed remedy. And his blessing 
 makes the means effectual. We can rely nowhere else. The phy- 
 sician often confesses that nothing operates as he expected. He 
 
THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 431 
 
 fears he is destroying the patient he wishes to cure. And often, 
 when his skill has failed, the patient given over to death, and the 
 grave-clothes preparing, God bids the patient live, and he returns 
 to health. Nor should it derogate from his glory, when he bless- 
 es the means, for, v still, his own agency performs the cure. Heze- 
 kiah was sick unto 'death ; a prophet of the Lord was directed to 
 assure him, that he should die. But he cried and prayed, and a 
 respite of fifteen years was granted him. The event was now cer- 
 tain, and still a bundle of figs must be the means of his cure. But 
 was it any the less God that healed him 1 Had the figs any power, 
 independently on Him who had arrested the hand of death, and 
 prolonged the life of the king! 
 
 The pious heart will have no misgivings on this point. Our 
 life, our health, and all our comforts, are in the hands of God. 
 " He killeth and he maketh alive, he bringeth low and raiseth up." 
 It is good to feel that we are the creatures of his power ; espe- 
 cially when we may hope, that we are the subjects of his grace. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 1. A period of recovery from sickness should be a season of 
 praise. If we have misery in prospect, it fills us with pain ; but we 
 can look back upon a season of great trial with pleasure. The 
 miseries we remember are gone by ; in retrospect they are soft- 
 ened and are harmless. But we had died had it not been for the 
 hand of God. We had never risen from that bed, we had never 
 enjoyed returning health. The physician would have mistaken 
 our case, or would have used the wrong means, or would have 
 found his specifics to be the deadliest poisons. And we had for- 
 feited our lives, and could look for nothing but ruin as our desert. 
 And where had we been if the hand of God had not been under 
 us 1 To what world had we fled while some friend was closing 
 our eyes how employed, on the day of our funeral solemnities 1 
 " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless his 
 holy name." 
 
 2. The life that God has made his care should be devoted to 
 him. And we have all an interest in this particular. If we have 
 never known the attacks of disease, it was God who purified the 
 air we breathed, and warded off the pestilence that walketh in 
 darkness. And if otherwise, if life has met with some interrup- 
 tion, and we have been called occasionally to the sick bed, it was 
 God who healed us. In either case we are wholly the Lord's. 
 Whether we feel our obligations or not, will not alter the case. 
 
432 THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 
 
 God is good, and deserves our service, whether we think and feel, 
 or are thoughtless and stupid. There is not one, among all my 
 readers, that does not love and serve the Lord, who can escape 
 the charge of being a wicked and slothful servant. God has made 
 you what you are, and given you all you have. You live by his 
 permission, and feed on his bounty. In these circumstances, to 
 withhold your love and your service, is impious. None can be 
 wise, and refuse to present their bodies and souls to him as a 
 living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God. 
 
 3. We see why many have praised the Lord upon the sick bed. 
 It is not a place so destitute of comfort as many have supposed. 
 The fiercer attacks of disease are separated by intervals, in which 
 there are felt, independently of the comforts of religion, a keen 
 and sensible pleasure ; but when the heart is right with God, and 
 these precious moments are employed in lifting a prayer, or a 
 song, to his throne, I see nothing to prevent the joy rising to 
 ecstasy. Even in the dying hour, the little lucid intervals of 
 strength and reason, may witness joy unspeakable and full of 
 glory. I do not deny that piety may operate even when the pains 
 are on, and may evpn quench their fury by its ecstatic joy. But 
 such is the immediate connection between the soul and the body, 
 that neither can suffer alone, nor the joys of the one fail to be 
 interrupted by the agonies of the other. Hence how welcome to 
 the mind that longs for communion with God, are these little sea- 
 sons of respite. 
 
 4. The subject will lead us to reflect with the Psalmist, on the 
 wondrous mechanism of our natures : " I am fearfully and wonder- 
 fully made ; marvellous is thy loving kindness, O Lord." There 
 is one noted instance on record of a physician who was an infidel, 
 till he had occasion to dissect a human body. He then declared 
 that he could be an infidel no longer ; that he saw in the structure 
 of the body the traces of the finger of God. But we may all know 
 enough to make us ashamed of our infidelity, without the aid of 
 surgical instruments, or operations. When we think of our bodies, 
 how delicately strung, how easily injured, how liable to disease, 
 and yet, ordinarily, how healthy and how firm, we can ascribe it 
 only to God. 
 
 Our life contains a thousand springs, 
 
 And dies if one be gone ; 
 Strange, that a harp of thousand strings, 
 
 Should keep in tune so long. 
 
 But when we rise higher, and contemplate the union of the soul 
 
THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 433 
 
 and body, and survey the delicate ligatures that bind them toge- 
 ther, the mind finds an enlarged field of dignified and pious con- 
 templation. The numerous inlets of pleasure 5 the varied appe- 
 tites finding their full enjoyment in the temperate use of the good 
 things that God has strewed about our path j and our varied dis- 
 eases finding their cure or their alleviations, in specifics that grow 
 under our feet, and in addition to these the pleasures of those very 
 sicknesses that were added in mercy j how loudly do they pro- 
 claim the beneficence of God. 
 
 5. To be thankful, then, would seem a first law of nature. And 
 to be ungrateful, a charge brought against the whole heathen world, 
 was adding as the last item to the climax of our degradation and 
 ruin. A people rational, sensitive, and immortal, if they have no 
 revelation of God, and no hopes of a future blessedness beyond 
 the grave, should not have been pronounced ungrateful : 
 
 " The brutes obey thy will, 
 
 And bow their necks to men ; 
 But we, more base, more brutish things, 
 Reject thine easy reign." 
 
 55 
 
SERMON XXXVIII. 
 
 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 JOHN XV. 19. 
 Ye are not of the world. 
 
 IT has always been the wish of the enemies of truth, to amalga- 
 mate the Church with the world. They gain by this means, in 
 their estimation, several distinct, and important advantages. Hence 
 a gospel is current, that bends all its efforts, to do away the dis- 
 tinctions, between God's people, and the men of the world. The 
 Christian character is let down, till all its beauty, and all its hon- 
 ors are in the dust. It is plead that the Christian need not differ 
 widely from other men. He may retain his evil heart of unbelief, 
 may pursue the world as he has done, may cultivate the same pride 
 of character, may bury himself in scenes of dissipation, and may 
 be, in all respects, the same man of the world, as previously to his 
 hope and his profession. If he should sometimes be profane, and 
 occasionally gamble, and be habitually hard, bordering upon ro- 
 guery, in his commerce, and trifle with Scripture, and sing a merry 
 song, or be overtaken by any vice that is fashionable, that is not 
 low and vulgar ; all this is permitted to affix no stain upon his 
 Christian character. 
 
 He may be in full league with the guilty population of the apos- 
 tacy, need perform no duties, nor embrace any doctrines, not re- 
 lished by the ungodly, nor encompass himself with any of that sa- 
 credness of character that brings a sword. Thus the man of God 
 is robbed of every feature of holiness, that can possibly distinguish 
 him from the mass of the ungodly ; and the men of the world have 
 only to adopt the creed, and make oath to the covenant, and come 
 to the consecrated table, and the work is done. 
 
 They need have no knowledge of that new birth, which the Lord 
 Jesus pressed upon Nicodemus ; need not be translated out of 
 darkness into marvellous light, and from the power of sin and Sa- 
 tan unto God ; need not disturb themselves with repentance, and 
 faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, nor exhibit that transformation of 
 character which shall evince them risen with Christ, and seeking 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 435 
 
 those things that are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand 
 of God. Thus the Lord Jesus is made to martial a band of mis- 
 creants. He has the attitude of a rebellious prince, who mingles 
 with a multitude of rebels, enlists them under his banner, demand- 
 ing neither loyalty nor duty, and winks at all the deeds of wrong 
 and of outrage which they have committed against the throne and 
 the kingdom. In pursuing the subject, / shall give a Scriptural ac- 
 count of the secluded character of believers, and show, that their amal- 
 gamation with the world, would both injure them, and the ungodly 
 with whom they are associated. 
 
 I. / am to give a Scriptural account of the secluded character of the 
 believer. Said an apostle, to those who believe in Christ, and to 
 whom he is precious, " Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priest- 
 hood, a holy nation, a peculiar people ; that ye should show forth 
 the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into mar- 
 vellous light." And said another apostle, " Be not unequally 
 yoked together with unbelievers ; for what fellowship hath right- 
 eousness with unrighteousness ? and what communion hath light 
 with darkneisl and what concord hath Christ with Belial 1 or 
 what part hath he that believeth with an infidel 1 and what agree- 
 ment hath the temple of God with idols 1 For ye are the temple 
 of the living God ; as God hath said I will dwell in them, and walk 
 in them; and I will be their God and they shall be my people. 
 Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith 
 the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing ; and I will receive you ; 
 and will be a father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daugh- 
 ters, saith the Lord Almighty." I have made this long quotation, 
 because almost every clause bespeaks the secluded character of 
 the believer. 
 
 Said our Lord to his disciples, "If ye were of the world, the 
 world would love his own ; but because ye are not of the world r 
 but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore shall the world 
 hate you." Often did he say, that none could be his disciples, but 
 such as would deny themselves, and take up their cross and follow 
 him. 
 
 Now the very idea of a Church, implies a secluded and peculiar 
 people. Why have any creed, or covenant, or discipline, but thai 
 God's people must have a character, and perform duties, and sus- 
 tain relationships, that belong not to the world at large. I know 
 there is a sense in which they must both grow together until the 
 harvest. God's people must stay in this world till they have ri- 
 
4-36 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 pened for heaven j but they may be in the world, and still be the 
 secluded, and retiring, and peculiar, and heavenly-minded people, 
 which God requires them to be. 
 
 Hence to amalgamate the Church with the world, is to thwart 
 the Divine plan, and join what God has sundered. The purpose 
 of God to give his people at last a world by themselves, and pub- 
 licly separate them from the ungodly in the scene of judgment, 
 placing the sheep on the right hand, and the goats on the left ; 
 speaks plainly that distinctness of character, interest, and condi- 
 tion, which becomes them, and is enjoined upon them, in the pre- 
 sent life. In no Scripture are they confounded with the unregen- 
 erate. Their distinctness is kept up, through the whole series of 
 epithets given them in the book of God ; saint and sinner, clean 
 and unclean, righteous and wicked, holy and unholy, believer and 
 unbeliever, godly and ungodly. 
 
 II. The amalgamation of God's people with the world will injure 
 them. Men have shown great zeal in proselyting the world to a 
 visible fellowship with the church, as if all that is desirable were 
 gained, when men are brought to put on the garb ofpiety. But 
 assuredly nothing is gained to the Church. She receives no acces- 
 sion of strength, or beauty, when the multitudes of the ungodly 
 come to her solemn feasts, and enter the enclosures of her cove- 
 nant. The army of God that goes out to wage war with sin, and 
 darkness, and misery, can operate with far more efficiency, when 
 none are enlisted but the loyal. Permit the enemy to enter the sa- 
 cred enclosures of Zion, and what can you hope for, but that in the 
 time of the seige, they will betray her interests, and open her 
 gates to the enemy 1 
 
 It is when the church is pure as Christ would have her, that she 
 can know her strength, and however small her numbers, can de- 
 fend her interests and preserve her honors. But when polluted 
 with a mass of unregeneracy, she is paralyzed and exposed. She 
 moves to every onset, wielding a burden, that renders impossible 
 every prompt and vigorous exertion. So the host of Gideon, 
 while it embraced thousands who were afraid, could achieve noth- 
 ing. The three hundred when separated from the multitude, could 
 do more than thirty thousand. 
 
 Our Lord preferred to be followed by a little faithful band, rather 
 than an army of ill-chosen and ungodly men. He could have 
 gathered into his Church, if he would have lowered his requisi- 
 tions, a mass of Scribes, and Pharisees, and Saducees, and law- 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 437 
 
 yers. Had he been less austere, to use the term his foes employ- 
 ed, he could have swelled his little flock to a countless multitude, 
 and could have selected from them a soldiery, that would have 
 made him a king, and built him up an empire. Had he but pro- 
 claimed, that he would feed by miracle the multitudes that would 
 follow him, he could easily have outnumbered the army of Xerxes, 
 and could have obliged the world to do him homage. But his 
 cause would have suffered, and he could no longer have said, that 
 his kingdom was not of this world. 
 
 When the influence of Constantine poured in upon the Church 
 an unwieldly mass of nominal Christianity, the result was that the 
 sinew of action was paralyzed. There ensued the dark ages, in 
 which there was swept, from what had been the Church, almost 
 the last vestige of truth and holiness. There was more real light 
 and strength in the camp of that little band which fled from her 
 sword into the wilderness, than was found in the whole Catholic 
 communion. 
 
 And the same will be the result whenever the same experiment 
 is tried. Bring down the standard of piety till men totally de- 
 praved shall covet the children's bread, and you have perverted the 
 whole design of a Christian Church. The equipments of the gos- 
 pel no longer adorn her soldiery, nor the Captain of her salvation 
 lead her on to victory and glory. Hence the design to break down 
 all distinction between the children of God and the unsanctified, 
 and lead within the enclosures of the Church a band of God's 
 enemies, is assuredly of all the intrigues of the prince of darkness, 
 one of the most daring and desperate. While it pretends to 
 strengthen the Church, it makes a deep and broad incision in her 
 arteries, and lets out her very life blood. While it professes a 
 wish to beautify her, so that the ungodly are charmed with her 
 visage, it does but constitute her an image of marble, cold, blind, 
 deaf, dumb, and powerless. While it holds out a wish to guard 
 her interests, to watch her gates, and man her fortresses ; it does 
 but covenant with her foes, and in the dark hour of midnight, 
 while her watchmen sleep, gives the enemy possession of her 
 towers. 
 
 The men of this world can never be the beauty or the strength 
 of Zion. The Lord Jesus Christ will have a Church, that puts on 
 his image, and reflects his glory, that can be a nursery for heaven, 
 that fosters in her bosom his own disciples, and will stand, her- 
 self a monument of his redeeming power. She is a city set on a 
 hill, and her light must shine. She must have on all the features 
 
438 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 of beauty seen in her Master, and show out to the world every line 
 of comeliness found in his image. There must be written on her 
 banner, " Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, 
 faith, meekness, temperance." 
 
 And can all this be, when the Church shall be composed of un- 
 godly men 1 Will they put on the image of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 or act out the graces of the Spirit, or have any light to spare, by 
 which the darkness of this apostate world may be illuminated 1 
 Can their science, and their courteousness, and their high sounding 
 titles, become a substitute for the ornaments of the Spirit 1 Let 
 monarchs come in with their diadems, and princes with their trap- 
 pings, and the multitudes of the learned with their philosophy, but 
 who have none of them been taught at the feet of Jesus ; and is 
 the Church thus made beautiful 1 Ah, it would depend on who 
 saw her. She would dazzle the eye which could look only on the 
 outward appearance, but would be deformity and corruption in his 
 view who looketh on the heart . 
 
 What will the Church gain then, when she has opened her bo- 
 som to the multitude ? May the believer look for individual en- 
 joyment, from being associated in covenant with those who are wise 
 and honorable in this world 1 Will such fellowship ensure to him 
 esteem and respect, from those who shall thus have pledged them- 
 selves to treat him as a brother 1 We answer, no. When the men of 
 the world have put on the garb of piety, facts assure us, that they 
 will by their ungodly conversation bring rebuke and shame upon the 
 Lord's people 1 Believers will not run with them to the same ex- 
 cess of riot. Hence their scruples of conscience, which will still 
 render them a peculiar people, will not fail to bring upon them the 
 sneer and the contempt, and the buffetings of the whole proselyt- 
 ed brotherhood. The stricter principles, and purer doctrines, and 
 higher standard of Christian morality, adopted by the real disci- 
 ples of the Lord Jesus, will be denominated enthusiasm ; and what- 
 ever they may do more than others, will go to sink their reputa- 
 tion, and cover them with reproach. 
 
 What then are we to think of that gospel, so called, which aims 
 at this, monstrous confederacy 1 which would flatly contradict, or 
 artfully neutralize, every requisition of discipleship in the family 
 of Christ, and thus mingle the Church with the world 1 On what 
 page of inspiration shall we find the solitary text, that thus con- 
 founds the Lord's people with the multitudes that know not God, 
 and obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ I And who 
 would venture to make such an experiment on the life of the church, 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 439 
 
 unless unequivocally instructed from heaven I Alas, the experi- 
 ment has been made, and is making, the Divine authority to the con- 
 trary notwithstanding. Many Churches are bleeding and expiring 
 under the operation of this philosophy. It has polluted their creed, 
 and changed their ministry, and robbed them of their covenant, 
 and thrown open the doors of their fellowship to the wide world 
 The hedges of the vineyard are broken down, and the result is, 
 that the boar out of the wood devours the vine. I proceed to say, 
 
 III. That the men of the world are injured no less than the Church, 
 by this promiscuous amalgamation of those who have no similari- 
 ty of temper. Let me remark, 
 
 1. Jl profession of religion increases the disposition and gives men 
 better opportunities to do mischief: and this, it will be acknowledged, 
 is a curse, and not a blessing. I know it has been said that the 
 enemies of the Church may be restrained, by the gospel being so 
 accommodated to their taste as to win them to its faith and its fel- 
 lowship. Do away, it is said, those doctrines that they disrelish, 
 because harsh and unreasonable, and those traits of Christian cha- 
 racter that give offence, and they will all rush into the fellowship 
 of the gospel, and be good and harmless Christians ! 
 
 This point the history of the Church shall answer. Judas gain- 
 ed admission into the fold, had access to the Lord of glory, and 
 won the confidence of the unsuspecting disciples. But Judas was 
 still a thief and a devil, and became the leader of that band, that 
 broke in upon the retreat of prayer, and arrested and bore away 
 to the judgment seat the Son of God. There probably was not 
 another wretch in Israel, who could have pocketed the price of 
 blood, and gone as he did, to seize, and bind, and sacrifice the Lamb 
 of God. The foe had to wait, after he had whetted his teeth for 
 the prey, till one, placed in the very presence of truth itself, 
 should become sufficiently hardened, through its perverted influ- 
 ence, to administer the betraying kiss, and sell his holy Master. 
 So Julian had done the Church far less injury, had he not been 
 nursed in her bosom. It was there his heart acquired that hard- 
 ness, and his conscience that obduracy, that qualified him to be 
 the patron of that gross, and God-provoking idolatry, which kin- 
 dled its fires so zealously about the saints of the Most High God, 
 and sent many from the stake and cross to heaven. 
 
 Ah, and before we leave this bloody spot, in search of other 
 facts, all establishing the same truth, I would point you up to hea- 
 ven, and tell you, that devils could be made, only in that pure and 
 
440 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 happy world ! ! It was there, right where God and the Lamb are 
 unceasingly adored, that the prince of the power of the air, the 
 spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience, was 
 schooled, and disciplined, and equipped ; for what 1 for the great- 
 est usefulness, and the highest honors, like that of Gabriel, had 
 he proved obedient ; but becoming a rebel, and carrying all his 
 heaven-taught science with him down to hell, he was prepared to 
 display a cunning, and a prowess, in deeds of wrong, that have 
 justly drawn upon him the epithet of the old serpent. 
 
 You may now pass down, from the empyreal apostate, through 
 the whole catalogue of baptized worldlings, and tell me if one of 
 them was restrained by his profession, from doing mischief to the 
 Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. I know that their initiation 
 into her mysteries, and their unwarranted touch of her consecrated 
 things, have led them to change their mode of warfare, and to 
 attack her interests and her honors, in a covert and disguised 
 assault, made in the night time, while men slept. There have 
 been few open and avowed infidels, who have held their place 
 within the enclosures of the Church. But they have done none 
 the less mischief, but the more, because they lurked in ambush. 
 The foe who meets you in open day, you may vanquish far more 
 easily, than he who comes under the covert of the black and dark 
 night. 
 
 The thought I venture to urge is, that the superior growth of 
 depravity, acquired under the touch of sealing ordinances through 
 the perversions of a deceived heart, have made men the more 
 inimical to the Church of Christ, and the more desperate in their 
 attacks upon her interests and her honors. Hence some of the 
 worst of men have come from the house of prayer, where they had 
 been familiar with all the hallowed objects of piety. No young 
 men have sworn more profanely, or gambled more desperately, or 
 abused the Scriptures more wantonly, or sneered at piety more 
 contemptuously, than the wayward youth, who had been accus- 
 tomed to bow at the family altar. Not that such cases are so 
 common as the contrary ; for a pious education is the most pro- 
 mising path to heaven ; but when they do happen, they are noticed, 
 and afford us awful proof that truth perverted, is more deadly in 
 its effects than error. 
 
 Tell me if God has ever directed, that the Church should tame 
 her enemies, by placing them in her bosom 1 Is it thus that we 
 tame the viper and the asp 1 If such would be the course of wis- 
 dom, we have not done half enough. The Church should have no 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 441 
 
 enclosures, no creed, no covenant, no watch, no discipline, no bar- 
 rier that should operate to keep the vilest of men from entering 
 her holiest places. Let us spread at once the net of a loose and 
 superficial discipleship over the whole multitude of the ungodly, 
 and thus, by a single effort, put a period to the Church's long pro- 
 tracted conflicts, and save men the pain and the danger of doing 
 mischief. But there is yet room to doubt whether God has pre- 
 scribed any such means for taming depravity, or terminating the 
 conflicts of his people ; and whether the Church has not by this 
 time-serving policy, multiplied her wars and her dangers. 
 
 Why will we not look about us, and see what testimony our eyes 
 will furnish us. Who are the enemies of the Church in the pre- 
 sent day 1 who lead in the attacks upon her 1 who unsettle her 
 ministry 1 who dilute her creed 1 who abridge her rights 1 who 
 rob her of her interests 1 who, by setting at defiance her laws, and 
 drawing upon themselves her tardy and hesitating anathemn, dis- 
 tract her peace 1 Ah, look once into the churches that are rent 
 with division, and party, and strife ; and tell me, if in each case 
 there is not some son of Belial whom, like the serpent in the fable, 
 the Church had warmed in her bosom, but now has to feel the 
 effects of his venom 1 Where in the churches is there division, 
 and strife, and hatred, and there is no professor warm in the quar- 
 rel 1 A single man, can go out infuriated from the sacramental 
 cup, and spread a wider ruin than a score of abler men, about 
 whom there have never been cast the sacred enclosures of the 
 covenant. O, I wish I had not half the evidence I have, that I 
 announce .a solemn and sacred truth that ought to have been pub- 
 licly announced far sooner. Whatever, then, a profession of god- 
 liness may do for unregenerate men, it does not curtail their power 
 or disposition for doing mischief. I remark, 
 
 2. An amalgamation of unregenerate men, with the Church, does 
 not increase their means of becoming holy and happy. No plea has 
 been so popular, with those who have wished to push unregenerate 
 men into a closer contact with sacred things, than that they are 
 thus furnished with better means, and a fairer prospect of obtain- 
 ing salvation. It has been the boast of some modern preachers, 
 that under their ministrations, ungodly men are induced to quit 
 the ranks of infidelity, and become Christians. They have skill, 
 it seems, in rendering the gospel palatable, and men will receive 
 it from them, who would have perished, before they would have 
 received it at the lips of a harsh, and homely, and unfeeling ortho- 
 doxy ! Not to stop now, to inquire whether these converts are 
 56 
 
442 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 not rendered tenfold more the children of hell, than previously to 
 their having been discipled ; let me ask whether the means of 
 grace used with them, are thus increased 1 and whether their pros- 
 pects of heaven are thus brightened 1 
 
 That same gospel, which would induce the unsanctified, without 
 being renewed, to avow themselves believers, and thus teach them 
 in the outset to utter a lie ; would not be very likely to teach them 
 much truth, after their being drawn within the covenant. And 
 moreover, if an impression contrary to truth must be made to 
 bring them to the house of God, or within the enclosures of a 
 Christian church, it is very doubtful, whether they would after- 
 ward listen seriously to the truth. The same pleasant song that 
 charmed them at the first, must continue to hold them, or they 
 would escape like the bird from the grasp of the charmer. They 
 must have a gospel as false throughout, as was that first lesson, 
 that induced them to quit visibly the fellowship of infidelity. And 
 if so, they remain in all the darkness of their former state, with no 
 more chance of being enlightened, than under the ministration of 
 a Bramin, or a Mufti. Or suppose your polished and soothing- 
 preacher has done his part, and induced the infidel to abandon his 
 creed, for some general confession of the truth of the Bible, its 
 doctrines having been frittered down till he is satisfied ; and he 
 has exchanged the school of infidelity for the Church of Christ j 
 suppose this done, and the child thus born delivered over to be 
 nursed, and reared, under a better gospel ; let me ask, if that onje 
 fatal error, which he has adopted, will not operate like a corrupt 
 leaven, to poison the whole system of truth. You may bring the 
 man to the sanctuary, where is taught the faith once delivered to 
 the saints, and chain him to his pew, and pour in truth upon his 
 car for half a century, and still you will never reach his conscience, 
 till you make him feel, and he becomes willing to learn, that his 
 heart is alienated from God, and that the profession he has made 
 is a lie. You must teach him that the whole head is sick, and the 
 whole heart faint ; that he is an alien from the commonwealth of 
 Israel, and is not, and never has been, in covenant with God ; and 
 thus at the very first push of truth, thrust him from his strong 
 hold, or he stands shielded against any attack that can be made 
 upon him by the true gospel. Thus in order to make him listen 
 to the truth, or in other words, to furnish him better means of 
 grace, you bring him up to the communion table, and when there 
 you can make him feel nothing, till you show him, that the incense 
 and the sacrifice he offers is abomination to the, Lord. 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 443 
 
 It does seem to me that when you have made the unrenewed 
 man a professor of godliness, you have placed him where he can- 
 not be taught the gospel. You have prepared him a shield for his 
 conscience and his heart, that will effectually protect him, against 
 any thrust that truth can make. It is then doubted, whether seal- 
 ing ordinances are at all likely to become means .of grace, to wick- 
 ed men, who are admitted to those ordinances, while in impeni- 
 tence and unbelief. 
 
 I take it for granted, what is too evident to admit a doubt, that 
 a mere profession does not alter the man's moral character in the 
 least. He believes no truth that he did not believe before, is as 
 much an infidel as ever, and does no duty that he did not ; unless 
 you please to say that coming to the communion is a duty, and 
 this we deny. To do so is duty, if the heart be right with God, 
 not otherwise. Indeed nothing is done, that deserves the name of 
 duty while God is not feared and loved. And nothing will be at- 
 tempted to be done in this case, merely because God commands 
 it, but all because consistency of conduct requires it. There may 
 be some attempt at prayer, and greater punctuality in attending 
 upon a preached gospel, but it must all be, from the very nature 
 of the case, a show of piety. The profession has not altered the 
 man, either in heart or conduct, enough to give him another cha- 
 racter, either in the view of God or man. How then are his 
 means of holiness, or his chance of heaven at all altered for the 
 better 1 
 
 Beside there is produced by attending upon ordinances, when 
 there is no piety, a positive hardness of heart, and obtuseness of 
 conscience, which tends to remove the man farther than ever from 
 God. It is trifling with the most holy things, and the man who 
 shall do this, must rise to a pitch of profanity and of daring, that 
 cannot fail to beget an abiding insensibility. It is like the deed 
 of Uzziah, king of Judah, who, for daring to assume the priest's 
 office, was made a leper, and continued so all his life. God will 
 be sanctified in them that draw near to him. Thus are we driven 
 to the conclusion, that when the ungodly come to the consecrated 
 elements, their means of grace are not increased, while their pros- 
 pects of heaven are greatly darkened. I close with one general 
 
 REMARK. 
 
 How above all price is an honest and distinguishing gospel. 
 In the 
 
 1. Place, such a gospel is the only true gospel. My audience, I 
 
444 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 hope, are persuaded, that we have a distinguishing Bible. God 
 intended, when he inspired his word, to give us, not the means of 
 guessing at the truth, but of knowing it. " Ye shall know the 
 truth and the truth shall make you free." Hence he has made his 
 word plain, so that the wayfaring man, though a fool, shall not err. 
 Now we should depart from honesty, to either teach, or suffer our- 
 selves to be taught, indistinctly, from this plain Bible. There 
 must be some base design, when the truth of God, that stands in- 
 telligible on the record, is rendered obscure and confused in the 
 lips of the publisher. The doctrines clearly taught in the Bible, 
 must be made evident by the preacher ; and the characters, there 
 distinctly marked, not be by him blended and confounded : else 
 we can easily be sure, that we have not before us the honest legate 
 of the skies. 
 
 2. It is only an honest and distinguishing gospel, that does honor 
 to the Savior. Its grand object is to redeem men from all iniquity, 
 and purify to the Lord Jesus Christ a peculiar people, zealous of 
 good works. The Church it gathers, and feeds, and comforts, has 
 on the image of her Lord, stands out from the world, an illustrious 
 monument of his sanctifying power, and tells all the generations 
 that pass by, how holy, and how glorious, and how mighty, is her 
 Redeemer. Christ has declared that his people are like him, he is 
 formed in them the hope of glory. But if you mix up the Church 
 with the world, and the people of the saints of the Most High can- 
 not be known from the multitudes with whom they are amalga- 
 mated, and you call this whole mass the Church, which is expect- 
 ed to wear the image of her Lord, then you grossly libel his cha- 
 racter. 
 
 If the ungodly, as they look upon this Church, are to learn from 
 its character, what is the character of the Savior ; and from its 
 conduct, what is the life and conversation he would approve j and 
 from its temper, what is the Spirit of Christ ; then is the Savior 
 degraded and abused by such a Church, and the whole design of 
 his mission covered with reproach. He came to save his people 
 from their sins. Are these, then, the people he has saved 1 these 
 worldlings 1 these profane men 1 these gamblers 1 these covetous 
 men* these ambitious men'? these proud, litigious, thoughtless, 
 prayerless men 1 Are all these the saved of Jesus Christ 1 this the 
 multitude that he has washed from their sins in his blood ! ! 
 
 Thus an indistinct gospel builds up a worldly Church, and that 
 Church by its open, and barefaced, and abounding iniquities, brings 
 reproach and contempt upon its Redeemer. But let the Church 
 
THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 445 
 
 be pure as he would have it, be composed of only such as will put 
 on his image and glory in being like him ; then the world will take 
 knowledge of them that they have been with Jesus, and he will be 
 honored in the house of his friends. 
 
 3. It is only an honest and distinguishing gospel that will be 
 useful. 
 
 It gives the means of knowing their own character. Its very 
 first object is to distinguish between the clean and the unclean, be- 
 tween him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not. Then 
 the Christian discovers that he is in Christ Jesus, and takes the 
 comfort of it ; and the unregenerate learn that they are in the gall 
 of bitterness, and under the bonds of iniquity, and feel the pain 
 of it, and apprehend the danger of it. He will have many a song, 
 and they feel many a pang under such a gospel ; he may have high 
 hopes of future blessedness, and they many strong anticipations 
 of the wrath to come. 
 
 A gospel that is not distinguishing, by building up a worldly 
 Church, withholds from sinners one of the mightiest means of 
 grace. There is nothing that so much affects men, as to see reli- 
 gion embodied, and acted out by the people of God. The gospel 
 then presents itself to their consciences in a living shape, and carries 
 with it an influence that is irresistible. There the law is, and there 
 the gospel is, right before their eyes all day in their houses, and in 
 their streets ; and they must die or embrace it. But under a loose 
 and indistinct gospel, there is no such example, and of course no 
 such influence exerted. If there should be some few in the 
 Church, who honor the religion they profess, which is not very 
 likely under a gospel that does not feed them with the truth, still 
 their influence will not be felt. They will be nicknamed, and des- 
 pised, and cast out, as sour, unsocial and austere beings, of whom 
 none may speak kindly, and with whom none will associate. Thus 
 the ungodly under such a gospel, lack one of the most efficacious 
 means of grace. 
 
 Hence under such a gospel there is no reason to hope, that sin- 
 ners will repent and turn to God, and live. Men will not be 
 alarmed till they know their danger, nor will know their danger 
 till they learn their true character. Hence under a gospel, that 
 does not distinguish, that rears not a pious Christian Church, that 
 mixes up the Lord's people with the world, calls the whole con- 
 gregation brethren, and deals out the promises without discrimina- 
 tion ; sinners cannot be said to enjoy the means of grace, will never 
 
44-6 THE MAN OF GOD DEVELOPED. 
 
 become alarmed, and will never repent, and will die in their sins, 
 and where Christ is they can never come. 
 
 To the people of God, who are under a process of sanctifica- 
 tion through the truth, it is of unspeakable importance that they 
 enjoy a distinguishing gospel. Else they will ripen but slowly for 
 heaven, will not enjoy the comforts of religion, nor be extensively 
 useful. To place them under a tame and temporizing gospel, is like 
 the attempt to grow plants in the shade. They may just live, but they 
 can neither be vigorous nor healthful. Place the men of heavenly 
 birth, where they can have the whole truth, and feel its influence. 
 Then they " spring up, as willows by their water-courses." Every 
 day advances them in the Divine life. Their religion is healthful 
 and vigorous, and there is reason to believe that they will feel the 
 blessed effects for ever. They will be, when they die, better pre- 
 pared for heaven, will take a higher station, and shine more illus- 
 triously in the celestial firmament. 
 
 O, then, suffer not a Christian for a world, to spend his days un- 
 d6r a loose and indiscriminating gospel. Advise him to sell all he 
 has and buy a better gospel, or go where the truth is proclaimed, 
 that they may daily feel its influence, " till we all come in the 
 unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto 
 a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
 Christ." Amen. 
 
SERMON XXXIX. 
 
 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. No. I. 
 
 GENESIS IV. 9. 
 Am I my brother's keeper ? 
 
 THUS early did the apostacy of the human family display itself 
 in murder, in falsehood, in supreme selfishness, and in gross and 
 daring impudence. Cain, you know, had murdered his brother, 
 and he now lies in the hope to conceal it from God, and impudent- 
 ly repels the insinuation that it was at all his business to be his 
 brother's guardian. He would have no care of his brother ; he 
 might die or live, it was no matter that concerned him. His own 
 interest was care enough for him ; his brother must be his own 
 keeper. This same principle of depravity, supreme selfishness, has 
 ever predominated in the breast of the human family, and may be 
 placed at the head of the causes that operate to make and keep 
 the world miserable. Yet the question put to Cain implies that 
 God will govern us by another law. We are to know what has be- 
 come of our brother. His life and health and happiness is to be 
 the object of our care, and that by the authority of God himself. 
 As he would not suffer Cain, so neither will he suffer us to throw 
 off this obligation. And what then becomes of the argument by 
 which men quiet their consciences, while they make no exertion 
 to bless or save the human family 1. When God shall make inqui- 
 sition for blood, and shall inquire of us as he did of the first mur- 
 derer, Where are all those millions of heathen that lived in your 
 day 1 what reply shall we make 1 When he inquires, Where are 
 all those profane men and Sabbath-breakers that lived in your time \ 
 Where are all those intemperate men that came under your notice, 
 and formed a character for perdition with your connivance 1 Shall 
 we be able to wield successfully that argument of Cain, " Am I 
 my brother's keeper V Or is there some other law like this, 
 u Let no man seek his own, but every man another's." Wealth is 
 here added by the translators, but it applies as well to other things 
 as to wealth. We are to seek another's health, and happiness, and 
 salvation, as well as our own. " Whatsoever ye would that others 
 should do to you, do ye even so to them." 
 
448 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 Perhaps by some such law God will at last deal with us, and not 
 by that contracted self-love which Cain made his only law of life 
 and action. And if so, why should men act on a principle now, 
 that must be abandoned in the day of retribution 1 One would not 
 like to enter upon some litigated case, having planned his defence 
 on a principle totally different from that on which alone his cause 
 can stand. Wisdom would dictate a far other course. We are 
 all looking forward to the judgment of the great day, and it will 
 come whether we look for it or not, and God has given us the prin- 
 ciples on which he will proceed. By these, then let us prejudge 
 ourselves, that in the great day we may stand. 
 
 On application to the law and the testimony we shall find that 
 God has made us all our brother's keeper. And would we know 
 who is our brother, the same book will bring within the circle of 
 our brotherhood the whole human family. Hence the obligation to 
 do good to all men as we have opportunity, will come down a 
 mighty burden if you please, upon all our shoulders. Cain de- 
 fended himself on a spurious principle, and the judgment of God 
 overthrew it. There is not, then, a man in our streets but is obli- 
 gated to look so far into his neighbor's concerns, as to know, if 
 possible, whether there is not some good he should do him. God 
 will not consider it a wanton interference, an abridgement of our 
 neighbor's liberty, if we so far interest ourselves as to settle the 
 question that there is no point in which we can bless him. Did 
 we see his house on fire in the night time, we should haste to it, 
 and burst open his door, and if he slept too soundly to be waked, 
 should throw him out of his house, and none would consider it a 
 gratuitous intermeddling in another man's matters.. But the law 
 of God does not say that we may interfere merely to promote his 
 wealth. Can we in any point do him good ? If so, the obligation 
 rests on us. 
 
 Now apply this principle to the case of that multitude who are 
 scorching up their vitals by intemperance. Is it abridging their 
 liberties if we interpose ? Can it be viewed as wanton officious- 
 ness if we snatch the cup from their lips 1 Suppose it a quicker 
 poison that would take life in an hour, might we then dash the 
 cup away 1 Suppose the father drinking it would poison and kill 
 his whole family ; might we then be so officious as to pity his 
 wife and children, and rudely force the potion away from him 1 
 Suppose it a razor or a halter, instead of the cup, and you must 
 become officious or his wife is a widow in an hour, and his 
 children orphans ; may you act in that case 1 Will one oppose 
 
449 
 
 the man who is opening his jugulars, and must be a corpse in 
 an hour, and at the same time furnish the instrument to another 
 with which he opens a vein that will dispatch him in a week 1 By 
 what kind of consistency do men sustain this mode of reasoning 1 
 Does God see any difference in these cases 1 Or has mere human 
 sophistry separated what God hath joined together 1 
 
 Let us look a little while at the right we have, and the obligation 
 we are under, to interfere in the case before us, and dam, divert, or 
 dry up that flood of intemperance that is pouring desolation upon 
 society. On this subject we claim in bur favor every law of na- 
 ture, of God, and of man. We claim the obligation of every law 
 of kindness, humanity, self-preservation, and necessity. And we 
 know of no law that bears in any shape upon our case, that does 
 not declare most unequivocally our duty in this matter. Let us 
 look, 
 
 I. At the law of God. Whether the divine law will be felt on 
 this subject or not, its authority should be read. Many will plead 
 that it principally enjoins abstaining from injuring our fellow men. 
 We assert that it enjoins more, and renders duty positive exertion 
 to do them good. " Thou shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbor, 
 and not suffer sin upon him." Here is authorized and even en- 
 joined the very attack we would make upon this vice. And we 
 have here the rule of our perseverance ; we are not to cease while 
 sin is upon him. " Them that sin rebuke before all, that others 
 may fear." Here We are authorized, if the case requires, to make 
 our rebuke loud and public. Good magistrates are represented 
 as being a terror to evil doers, as enjoined of God to use coercion 
 to keep men back from sin. The discipline of Christ's church is 
 founded in the principle that it is right to hold men back from 
 doing wrong by all the moral force that can be applied. The laws 
 of Israel required even that men.be held back from sin by the ap- 
 prehended punishment of death. The parent must inform against 
 his disobedient child, even when the issue must be that his child 
 be stoned to death. The sacredness of the Sabbath was by divine 
 direction guarded by the sanction of death. Thus we sufficiently 
 see that the law of God enjoins more upon men than merely ab- 
 staining from injuring their fellow-men, enjoins also the duty of 
 keeping them back from sin. Not merely may I not kill, but I 
 must hinder one from killing himself. Not merely may I not 
 steal, but I must hold back my neighbor from theft. Not merely 
 may I not, by any possible construction, put the cup to my neigh- 
 57 
 
4-50 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 bor's mouth, but must, if possible, prevent him from putting the 
 cup to his own mouth. The law of God is not that tame negative, 
 spiritless code that some would render it, but is exceeding broad, 
 and binds to all those actions that comport with its spirit. There 
 is no fear, then, that by any moral power we shall put forth in 
 reclaiming the world from its beastly indulgences, we shall not be 
 sustained by the law of God. We shall be condemned if we do 
 not put forth such power by that very law. I remark, 
 
 II. That the religion of*Jesus Christ embodies, as one of its first 
 principles, the duty of restraining men from sin. It is difficult to 
 view the operations of this religion as distinct from the operations 
 of the law of God. Its uniform aim is, as far as it relates to men, 
 to render them holy and happy. To do this it would enlighten 
 the world ; warn them of the coming judgment ; exert all possible 
 restraining moral influence over the wicked passions, and place 
 before men every fascinating motive to flee from the wrath to 
 come. The spirit of Jesus Christ characterizes this religion. He 
 came from heaven purposely that he might throw himself between 
 the sinner and the misery he earns, and thus block up the way of 
 death with his own body and blood. And he stands and pleads 
 with wretched men. " O that thou hadst hearkened to my com- 
 mandments, then had thy peace been as a river, and thy right- 
 eousness like the waves of the sea." " Come unto me all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." " Turn ye, 
 turn ye, why will ye die." 
 
 The religion of the gospel is a benevolent religion. Its posses- 
 sor is not content to be happy alone, but would extend his own 
 enjoyment to the whole race of the apostacy ; would rouse a dor- 
 mant world from the sleep of death, and break them off from the 
 habits that are destroying them. He has read in the sacred book 
 that no drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God ; hence he sees 
 heaven shut for ever against the whole multitude, and nothing be- 
 fore them but weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Here 
 piety becomes tenderly and laboriously compassionate. It cares 
 for the sufferings of the body, but holds it to be an infinitely more 
 important object to save the soul from death. 
 
 And there is one thought on this subject that has amazing weight. 
 Intemperance excludes men, if not wholly from the house of God, 
 yet very lamentably from the means of grace. Where is the in- 
 temperate man that has not vacated his seat in the church meet- 
 ing, in the conference room, and in the place of prayer 1 Who 
 
451 
 
 of them attend regularly the means of grace, as those who hope 
 to be sanctified through the truth 1 And they will be found to 
 have commenced a very loose discharge of the duties of the family 
 and the closet, if indeed these duties are not wholly abandoned 1 
 The Bible is read but little, and very few of its precious truths are 
 treasured up, and reflected on and prayed over. The time that 
 all these require is lost in unprofitable talk in the place of idle 
 concourse. Thus all hope of heaven is cut off. The Sabbath be- 
 comes a perverted institution, and furnishes, instead of leisure to 
 seek and serve the Lord, opportunity to drink and perish. Could 
 you know the true reason in every case why men desert the sanc- 
 tuary, you would find in many cases, that the insidious practice 
 of mingling strong drink, and the temptation offered of thus de- 
 voting the sacred day of the Lord unobserved by men, are gene- 
 rating this habit. That day when the last 'and best excuse that 
 tipplers have for the practice, will not apply that it renders them 
 strong to labor, is spent in beastly indulgences. Thus God is 
 twice insulted, nay, three times. The body that should be the 
 temple of the living God is polluted ; and he that pollutes the 
 temple of God, him shall God destroy. The fruits of the earth, 
 grown by the divine agency, are perverted from their benevolent 
 designation. And the Sabbath of the Lord, made for man, to in- 
 struct him and fit him for the kingdom of God, is abused to a pur- 
 pose more vile than any day of the seven. How God will feel 
 while men thus employ the very hours he consecrated, in selling 
 their souls into bondage to the devil, it can be easily conceived. 
 
 Now the heart of piety bleeds over the miseries that are coming 
 upon this infatuated multitude, and all the laws of piety urge the 
 believer to step in and stay the plague. I remark, 
 
 III That the laws of humanity give us the right, and impress 
 the obligation to be active in putting a period to the prevalence 
 of this destructive vice. The intemperate man, beast as he has 
 made himself, is still a brother. He descended with us from the 
 same common parent, nor can we by any process of reasoning 
 throw off the relationship he sustains to us. Could he be meta- 
 morphosed into a brute, and all the relationships that tie him to 
 men be dissolved, when he becomes intemperate, the case would 
 alter. Then humanity would make upon us its smaller claim as 
 when a beast suffers, or as when a serpent dies. Till then the 
 claim of kindred calls for pity. 
 
 How ruined is the man who has accustomed himself to the arti- 
 
452 
 
 ficial stimulus till the habit is fixed ! The money that should buy 
 him food and raiment, buys him disease and pain, and desponden- 
 cy. That labor that should earn his family reputation and plea- 
 sure, and health, and science, goes to pull down their habitation, 
 and cover them with rags, and feed them coarsely and scantily, 
 and plunge them from respectable life into poverty and wretched- 
 ness. The man himself is ruined ; his health, his ambition, his 
 intellect, and more and worse than all he can have no part in the 
 kingdom of God. And down toward the same ruin he drags, with 
 all the power he has, his hapless family. Suppose him to have a 
 wife how altered is her prospect. She married a man ; his face 
 was human, his breath was sweet, his heart \vas affectionate, his 
 countenance spoke the kindest emotions. He promised her his 
 heart for life, and she gave him hers. But she now embraces a 
 savage, and must wither under his insults if not his blows, and 
 must sue a bill from him, or wear out life in the den of a tiger. 
 And must see her children, the pledges of an honest affection, 
 under the training of a brute : must know that little short of a 
 miracle can rear them to comfort, or knowledge, or character. 
 Her high hopes for them are sunk, and she becomes thankful if 
 she may but keep them with her and furnish a rag to cover them, 
 and a piece of bread to feed them. She must see her comforts all 
 torn from her, the very bed she brought to him, and the conve- 
 niences her father gave her. She had begun to move in circles of 
 high character, and had taken an elevation from which she must 
 now come down. She was the mistress of her house, but is now 
 a menial. And all this, were it all, would be comparatively nothing. 
 She must see her companion come down from independence to 
 beggary, from reputation to neglect, from health and promise to 
 disease and gloominess, and death and hell. Once, perhaps, she 
 hoped to live with him in heaven, but as no drunkard shall inherit 
 the kingdom of God, she abandons this hope, and tries now to 
 save her children. Here again her burden is a world. How can 
 she hope to counteract the influence of a father's example, and un- 
 teach a father's precepts, and neutralize a father's influence. She 
 had always told her children to obey their father, but if they obey 
 him now they must die with him and be damned with him. 
 
 Thus she surveys her household with despair and sees not but 
 that every star of her night must be covered with a deep and dark 
 cloud. She was the mother of a promising family, and dwelt in a 
 comfortable habitation. But her miserable associate involved his 
 interest, and mortgaged his dwelling, and sold his lands, and gave 
 
453 
 
 up his business, and she must now try to keep herself warm in 
 that darksome hovel. I see her, on some cold December's even- 
 ing, returning from the wood with her fagots, that she may keep 
 the life-blood flowing warm in the veins of her infant. And I see 
 her little bare-foot lads trying to repair their father's wrong, bear- 
 ing on behind her some brushes for the fire. Poor lads, they hope 
 their father will come directly and bring them home some bread. 
 Ah, he comes yonder, but has spent the shilling to glut his appe- 
 tite, and another is leading him home. Go now and meet that 
 abused wife at her door, and enter with her and take the inventory 
 of her table, and if your heart does not ache, it is made of marble. 
 There is nothing there to eat : if there is, the mother earned it 
 last night when she should have been allowed to sleep. 
 
 Go now and visit her father's house, and see how many comforts 
 lay around her cradle ; how overflowing is the table where she 
 was reared ; how full of all life's dainties that house where she, in 
 an evil hour, committed her person to that being who now holds 
 her as with the paw of a panther ; and then if there is anything 
 you will not do that can be done to stay other wives from such a 
 destiny, and other children from such a famine, then feel that you 
 lack the common sympathies of humanity. What can possibly 
 give us a right to interfere, and save a fellow creature, if we have 
 none in this case 1 Where can the laws of humanity operate ^ 
 Might I tear that imploring female from the jaws of a wolf, or the 
 mouth of a crocodile, or the rush of a cataract 1 And by what 
 law ? The law of humanity 1 And is this law so binding that I 
 must even risk my life 1 Well, she may die a slower death, by 
 the abuses of an intemperate husband, but not a surer one ; and 
 her children may not as certainly perish as if already in the em- 
 brace of a bear, but the danger, if they are young when the father 
 becomes a brute, is not much less imminent. 
 
 When, then, may the laws of compassion operate when are 
 they binding as the very law itself of God, if not in this case 1 To 
 publish the tippler, or dash in pieces his bottle, or refuse him a 
 shelter in your house, or employ in your service, are deeds direct 
 of compassion, if by such means we may have the remotest hope, 
 of forcing him to the necessity of abandoning his cups. If we 
 may not do this without intrusion upon his rights, then we may 
 not cut the halter he is hanging on 5 may not dull the blade he has 
 whetted to butcher himself ; may not extinguish the brand with 
 which he intends to set his house or a world on fire ; may not 
 seize the maniac and put a chain on him ; may not hunt down the 
 
454 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 tiger who is lurking in our village for some hapless lad whom he 
 may devour. To deprive him of citizenship, and put a guardian 
 over him, and a prison wall around him, are the kindest deeds, if 
 his beastly appetite has deprived him of the power of self-govern- 
 ment. We should pray that the very same deeds may be done to 
 us when we shall have unmanned ourselves, and rendered coercive 
 measures of restraint indispensable. To all these measures the 
 laws of humanity propel us. 
 
 Why have a prison for the thief, and none for the inebriate I 
 The thief is the less dangerous man. He will do his deeds in the 
 dark, and will not contaminate our children by his example. Why 
 incarcerate the robber I He but causes property to change own- 
 ers, while the drunkard breaks in upon the more sacred compact 
 of marriage, sunders the parental and filial relationships, and robs 
 the domestic circle of its comforts. The highwayman robs the 
 stranger, the drunkard his own family. The former takes the 
 booty and is gone ; the drunkard stays to rob again and again of 
 every shilling that is earned by his family, or given them in cha- 
 rity, till he has stripped the bed from under them, and the clothes 
 from off them, and the bread from their mouths, and stays not till, 
 if possible, he has rifled them of home, and character, and hope, 
 and salvation. Where then is the robber with whom humanity 
 requires us to wage war rather than with the man who is thus 
 spoiling his own house 1 I know not where that compassion has 
 originated that will tolerate a man in plundering his own house, 
 but will hang him if he forcibly take a dollar from the stranger on 
 the highway ; that will suffer him to totally destroy the reputation 
 of his family, but will imprison him and fine him till he is a beg- 
 gar, if he slander the reputation of your daughter ; that will per- 
 mit him to wield day after day the weapon of death over his own 
 poor wife and hapless children, but will fasten him up with iron 
 bars and bolts if he once thrust the knife at your bosom. 
 
 I believe our apathy on this subject a sin that the whole sober 
 community will have to answer for in the day of retribution. God 
 has constituted us our brother's keeper, and will ask us directly, 
 Where is Abel, thy brother 1 in a tone of remonstrance that will 
 shake a thousand worlds. I will hint at one other law that binds 
 us to assume this guardianship of our fellow-men. 
 
 IV. I refer to the law of self-preservation. I name this last, not 
 because the most binding, but as that law which all men are least 
 reluctant to obey. While we suffer the sin of inebriation to pre- 
 
MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 455 
 
 vail, we are filling the land with paupers. Who are they that be- 
 come a public charge 1 Why, perhaps nine times in ten, the 
 intemperate, or their families, or their descendants, to whom this 
 vice has bequeathed penury. And who must be taxed to support 
 them 1 Why the sober, civil community. From their table must 
 go the bread to feed them, and from their forests the fuel to warm 
 them, and from their earnings the raiment to cover them, and from 
 their hearts the pity that relieves them in sickness, sorrow, and 
 death. And the burden is increasing daily. Our children, if we 
 train them soberly, may have to labor one day in seven to save 
 from starvation the descendants of that mass of drunkards who 
 now reel through our streets, and disturb the quiet of our even- 
 ings with their oaths and imprecations. 
 
 Ah, and more yet, our supineness is multiplying crimes and 
 criminals. Whence the murders that so increase in our land, till 
 they have tenfolded since our recollection 1 Whence the grow- 
 ing insecurity to travelers, and the frequency of mail robberies 1 
 Whence that amount of theft around us, till every door must be 
 barred, and property watched with a sleepless eye 1 Whence the 
 petty frauds in commerce 1 Whence the multiplied litigations, 
 till some towns are about bankrupt through their influence 1 
 If ninety-nine-hundredths of all this be imputed to the unnatural 
 and monstrous use of ardent spirits, it would not come far short 
 of the truth. 
 
 Hence the tax upon the civil community to prosecute and im- 
 prison that army of convicts which we do not assign to the halter. 
 May we not then try to save our property ! Must we levy a per- 
 petual assessment upon our children's children, down to the end 
 of time, for the support of every child whose miserable father shall 
 please, by his vices, to place upon our charity. We have pitied 
 the English nation while their poor tax has covered at length the 
 whole produce of their soil ; but intemperance is doing the same 
 deed for us. And if we are not wise enough, I hope our child- 
 ren will be, to exclude this canker-worm from our entire territory. 
 
 In the mean time, intemperance is opening hard by our house a 
 deep and dark gulf for our offspring. We intend to educate them 
 respectably, and to hold them distant from the drunken and mis- 
 erable community around us. But how know we that some inci- 
 dent may not throw down our children into this community 1 
 How know we that some son of ours, while in the field with a 
 tippler, may not learn to taste the cup, and at length scorch up 
 his vitals with the liquid fire 1 How know we that some daughter 
 
456 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 of ours, now sweet and lovely, may not at length come under the 
 paw of some tiger-like inebriate ; be lashed like a slave, and 
 starved like a criminal, and thrown naked and exposed to the cold 
 of winter by her inhuman husband 1 How know we that some 
 large branch of our family may not become sunken down to pro- 
 verbial meanness and degradation by this iniquity 1 and our very 
 name be used, as we know other names to be, as expressions of 
 all that is degraded and vicious, and improvident, and mean in 
 human nature. In view of such possibilities, shall we still adhere 
 to the plea of that first murderer, " Am I my brother's keeper V 
 What concern of mine is it I 
 
 And who will say I have exaggerated. Have you not known 
 some family that "was promising to thus sink and rise no more 1 
 This subject presents the retailer of ardent spirits in a painful and 
 distressingly interesting attitude. I address him in the next dis- 
 course. 
 
SERMON XL.* 
 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. No. H. 
 
 EZEKIEL III. 20. 
 
 His blood will I require at thy hand. 
 
 Is it lawful in the. sight of conscience and of God, to vend ardent 
 spirits ? 
 
 EVERY man should be able to justify himself in the business he 
 pursues, and when he cannot, by good and substantial arguments, 
 should abandon it. It is a fearful thing to persevere in any course 
 that conscience disapproves. There can be in such a case, neither 
 peace with ourselves nor fellowship with God. Darkness, deep 
 and ominous, must shroud our path till it is illuminated by the law 
 of the Lord. 
 
 Can the vender of ardent spirits justify his employment 1 If he 
 surveys the ground on which he stands, will he not become con- 
 vinced that very soon it must sink under him 1 
 
 Dear fellow-men, the Christian public has treated your case and 
 character with great forbearance, because perhaps we had all been 
 measurably in the same condemnation. You vended the poison, 
 and too many of us suffered our money to buy it, and our families 
 to use it. We approved of your offering it for sale, and you ap- 
 proved of our drinking it. Thus we fostered the sin between us, 
 as in that noted case in Scripture applying to a somewhat different 
 subject, " That they may do evil with both hands earnestly, the 
 prince asketh and the judge asketh for a reward ; and the great 
 man, he uttereth his mischievous desire ; so they wrap it up." The 
 importer and the distiller, and the retailer, asked a reward, and the 
 mistaken community of purchasers uttered their mischievous de- 
 sire, and so we wrapped it up. 
 
 When at length we began to wake to the subject, we could not 
 immediately require you, at perhaps a great pecuniary loss, to quit 
 the trade, till we had begun to practice some self-denial, and had 
 abandoned the use. But if we are all under the same obligation to 
 elevate public sentiment, the dealer must not continue in the trade 
 till there is no one to buy, and then quit from necessity, else nei- 
 
 * This sermon was written at a time when many conscientious people were engaged in the traf- 
 fic of ardent spirits, and at about the commencement of the temperance reformation. 
 
 58 
 
458 
 
 ther God, nor man, nor his own conscience, will allow him any 
 credit. The reformation must feel somewhere, and at some time, 
 your influence, or we shall fear that the enterprise was effected 
 against your wishes. If you will sell the last gill you can, and 
 make the last man drunk that will give you opportunity, and put 
 in your purse the last penny that you can make the trade earn you, 
 we shall doubt whether, if God had left it to you, the world would 
 ever have been reformed. Part of the 'community, and we hope, 
 by this time, the larger part, are mourning that you have not aban- 
 doned the trade long since ; the residue may possibly hope you 
 never will. In which of these divisions is there the most prayer 1 
 I think there can be little doubt. And you are choosing to which 
 of these very opposite communities you will belong. Every prayer 
 offered for the upbuilding of the Church is against you, and so is 
 every desire that the world may be peaceful, and industrious, and 
 happy, and holy. And it would seem as if one would hate to 
 pocket his earnings in the face of so much prayer. 
 
 You are aware that very few good men are now your customers 
 in this article, and that the number is still diminishing. But this, 
 it would seem, must give you rather a direful view of your calling. 
 The godly may not come around you. It has been whispered to 
 them from heaven, that they may not come into your secrets, nor 
 join their honor to your tippling and drunken assemblies. You 
 are employed, it seems, on the dark side of that line, that separates 
 the children of light from the children of darkness. Your stand is 
 at the tap, where you draw off, and deal out to the most ruined 
 part of your race, poverty, and pain, and decrepitude, and blind- 
 ness, and infamy, and despair, and shame, and death. 
 
 And all this is not all, for in addition to the present plagues 
 which your trade inflicts upon men, it promises, assuredly, to undo 
 them for ever. It seals them over to the adversary, and confirms 
 them the enemies of all righteousness, through all the future pe- 
 riods of their being. And what a horrid occupation must that be 
 that so mars and spoils the works of God. What if the light of 
 the last day should break in upon you with the cup of liquid fire 
 in your hand, reaching it out to one who is at that instant hurried 
 away to the judgment, to answer for the sin of making himself a 
 beast at your bar, must you not follow on or go before him, and 
 answer for the sin of vending the fire. Are you not the very man 
 whom the Scriptures reprobate for putting the cup to your neigh- 
 bor's mouth. If you will attend awhile, we will review the argu- 
 ments by which you are sustained in the practice. 
 
MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 459 
 
 I. A vender of ardent spirits, on being asked why he continued 
 in the traffic, responded, I am sustained by the public authorities. 
 They have licensed the trade, and I pay over to them a certain part of 
 the profits. I can show you their hand and seal. 
 
 But have they pledged themselves to answer for you when God 
 shall come and make inquisition for blood 1 and when the vaga- 
 bond husband with his haggard wife and beggared offspring, shall 
 cry to heaven for vengeance on the man that pilfered them of 
 bread, and clothed them with rags, and covered them with infamy 1 
 
 I know they may have then gone out of office, and others may 
 occupy their seats. Corporations, I know have their life 
 time, and their office is temporary, and their account will be sum- 
 med up in eternity. But do they incur any moral responsibility 
 for the correctness of this enterprise 1 Will they stand between 
 you and harm, in the great day of account 1 I know they have 
 underwritten for your honesty and integrity, and for your good 
 moral character, and have made oath to all these points, but as to 
 the lawfulness of the enterprise in the sight of God, have they under- 
 written here 1 Or have they left you to settle this matter with 
 God. 
 
 And besides it is said corporate bodies have no souls. Of course 
 they have no conscience, and will not come into the judgment, and 
 will not be present to respond for you when you shall be charged 
 with pouring a stream of death through the streets and lanes 
 of our beloved country. They will have sunk down into common 
 men, and will be judged not as public men, but as private citizens. 
 
 But to be serious, O what a day the last day will be, when every 
 one must answer for the sins done in the body. But if the men 
 who signed your papers shall be condemned with you, as guilty 
 accomplices in your work of death, what then 1 Can you apply 
 any remedy to the fatal and final mistake in that evil hour 1 I 
 would certainly handle your conscience kindly, but I would do it 
 honestly, because I shall be at the court on that day, and must be 
 condemned with you, if I handle deceitfully the word of the Lord, 
 or cry peace and safety when sudden destruction comes upon you. 
 I would rather become security for every demand and every claim 
 that may come against you in these minor courts, than answer for 
 the charge of making one drunkard, or one homeless and hopeless 
 and vagabond child, or one broken-hearted mother. I had rather 
 be your city scavenger than your mayor and your alderman on 
 terms like these. If the license you have, will be current only in 
 a human court, und heaven's King will despise it, I would go and 
 
460 
 
 throw it down on the table of the corporation, and would go out, 
 and before I commenced the sale, would demand a new revelation 
 from heaven, that should contain at least a clause like this Thus 
 saith the Lord, They who license others to commit sin are answerable. 
 for the sin, and they alone, and let all the people say JJmm. 
 
 II. Another, on being asked why he continued the trade, made 
 answer, That it was profitable, and that he chose to reap the profits. 
 Or as one might honestly interpret his language, he cared not 
 whether it was right or wrong. He would have been willing if he 
 might have been paid for his labor, to have manned the guillotine, 
 or to have kindled the fires of the auto-de-fe. If he could make 
 a good trade of it, would buy in the fagots, that were destined to 
 be used in burning a world. But it is believed there are very few 
 such men so lost from reason, hope and heaven. And with this 
 few we will not spend our time at present. 
 
 III. Another, on being asked, replied, The trade supports my fam- 
 ily, and propped his argument by Scripture : " If any provide not 
 for his own, and especially for those of his own house, he hath 
 denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." He faltered as he 
 uttered the text, seeming to doubt whether God inspired it to fos- 
 ter the crime of drunkenness. A very simple comment would 
 say, It surely must be of some consequence, how we provide. 
 May a man steal his bread, and purloin the garment that warms his 
 children'? One may not provide for his family by gambling, nor 
 by extortion, nor by robbery, nor by usury. By none of these 
 means, is it believed that one could lawfully make the provision 
 enjoined in the text. Thus the argument goes for nothing, if we 
 are required to use Christian discretion as to the manner in which 
 this provision shall be made. We may not do evil that good may 
 come, unless we would have our damnation just. The end will not 
 sanctify the means. That end which is not achieved by mea- 
 sures of righteousness, is not pursued with regard to the authority 
 of God. 
 
 IV. Another trader replied, This is the business I was bred to. So 
 King Alexander and the man of Elba, and Cesar and Sennacherib, 
 were practised, if not bred, to the art of blotting out nations, and 
 pouring out human gore, and must be sustained in the trade of. 
 blood, because they were bred to it. And Alexander the copper- 
 smith, must oppose the gospel, because else he should have no 
 
MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 461 
 
 shrines to make for Diana. Did he reason well, or did he proba- 
 bly lose his soul 1 
 
 That you was bred to the business of making or vending ardent 
 spirits, may involve your parents in guilt, but it cannot exonerate 
 you from the guilt of doing what you know is wrong. It surely 
 is your business to inquire whether your calling involves the good 
 or the injury of the world, whether you promote its health, its 
 character and comfort, or its undoing. Whether you aid its popu- 
 lation on to heaven or perdition. Are you exonerated from any 
 such inquiry 1 You give us then the very answer that the high- 
 wayman will, I pursue the business I was bred to. And when you 
 have answered his argument and persuaded him to be an honest 
 man, I will use your reasons, and convince you that you ought im- 
 mediately to attempt some other business. 
 
 V. Another retailer when inquired of why he continued in the 
 trade made answer, There is no other business I can do. My trade 
 in this article is my only path to competency. We may then 
 surely ask you, whether you have tried, and settled the question 
 beyond controversy, that you must ell rum or starve, that is, you 
 must do what God forbids or dje 1 
 
 Here I would remark that one should not come to this conclusion 
 till he has made an effort. It surely seldom happens under the 
 government of God, that men can adopt no legitimate means of 
 earning their bread. Should the gambler, and the actor, and the 
 slave-dealer, and the privateers-man become convinced that their 
 calling is mischievous, and ask God to direct them to an honest 
 livelihood, would there be nothing they could do but die ! Would 
 he leave to beggary or starvation, the man who was devoutly pray- 
 ing " Give us in a lawful and proper manner, day by day our dai- 
 ly bread 1 Why, this question is answered in a moment. And 
 were we obliged to answer in the negative, and duty was certainly 
 associated with death, then we should say die. That man blesses 
 the world and dies at a good old age who. dies rather than sin. 
 And as martyrdom has advanced many a cause it may possibly 
 advance yet the cause of temperance. 
 
 VI. One brandy merchant made answer, when asked why he 
 continued the trade, That good men had employed themselves in ma- 
 nufacturing and vending ardent spirit, and still had gone to heaven. 
 That is, he would continue in what might be forbidden of God, 
 provided it would be possible to reach heaven at last. Now we 
 admit the possibility you plead, but we must tell you that good 
 
462 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 men in days past had less light on this subject than we have, and 
 may have done in a measure harmlessly, what you may do unpar- 
 donably. What is comparative innocence in some circumstances 
 may be the deadliest guilt in others. Had Paul done, after he 
 was enlightened, the same things that he had done before, he had 
 done them to his own undoing. And he assures us, under the in- 
 spiration of the Holy Ghost, that he obtained mercy because he 
 did it ignorantly in unbelief. Had John Newton, when engaged 
 in the slave trade, been enlightened as he was afterward, he pro- 
 bably had never lived to sing as he did of the grace and mercy of 
 God. 
 
 Moreover, no man in his right reason, would act on the prin- 
 ciple here avowed. He would not commit theft, and robbery, and 
 murder and adultery, because men may have committed these dark 
 deeds, and still, perhaps, have gone to heaven. The very men I 
 reason with, would turn pale to hear these crimes palliated by the 
 same arguments that sustain the practice of vending this article of 
 death. One may have done in his ignorance, even conscientiously, 
 what to do now would cost him his soul. " The times of this 
 ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth all men every 
 where to repent." 
 
 Be it that there may be some good men even yet in the trade, 
 one would hardly dare to sin, because good men will sin with him. 
 I would not engage in unlawful commerce, were it possible that 
 an angel would share the profits with me. The rich man in the 
 gospel had accomplished associates till the day he perished. The 
 argument proves, merely, that good men may have mistaken their 
 duty, or may have known their duty, and for a time, had not suf- 
 ficient moral courage to do it. Could we know the views that 
 such men will have of the traffic, when they shall see the world 
 on fire, their views then might decide our duty. 
 
 VII. Another merchant was heard to say, If I should pour upon 
 the ground the store of this article, that I have on hand, I should 
 wrong my creditors. 
 
 Let me just ask that man a question or two. Did you purchase 
 that store of provisions since you doubted whether the trade was 
 right 1 And did you determine that you would sell it right or 
 wrong. How then can you answer to God and your own con- 
 science, for the sin of buying it 1 A mighty sin may have been 
 committed before you come to the question of selling, I mean the 
 sin of buying. If your own conscience met you, and the law of 
 
463 
 
 God, and poured their rebukes upon you for the sin of buying, 
 you may so heighten the iniquity by selling, that God shall never 
 grant you forgiveness. 
 
 And God may punish you in the very act, and cause the trade 
 which you pursue with hesitancy and doubt, to conduct you speed- 
 ily to bankruptcy. God will not, I think, if he intends your sal- 
 vation, prosper you in a business that is keeping the world 
 depraved. Is not such the character of your present customers, 
 that you must needs be afraid of failure if you trust them 1 And 
 then to be closeted with such men, as your business now brings 
 about you, how degrading, even were you in no danger from them. 
 But should it be, that you have greatly offended God already by 
 the traffic, the sale of the stock you have on hand in spite of a 
 disapproving conscience, may remove you beyond the hope of 
 forgiveness. At the most, you cannot calculate with any certainty 
 that another month's continuance in the trade, may not undo you 
 for eternity. 
 
 I knew the following affecting case, most intimately. A mer- 
 chant had come to the resolve to make no further purchase when 
 he had sold out the stock of spirit that he had on hand. But 
 while he was doing this, his largest customer in this article be- 
 came by the too free use of it, a blind man, and must now go 
 sightless, groping his gloomy way to the grave, if indeed with 
 the loss of his eyes, he does not part with his life too, and go 
 down at last to perdition. Ah ! what you ought to do with the 
 stock on hand, would be a question easily settled were the world 
 on fire, or could you see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of 
 heaven. If the loss of it would render you a bankrupt, I know 
 not that the case is altered the dust of the balance. Are you not 
 your brother's keeper 1 
 
 Money is not to be placed in the scale against duty, a moment. 
 If the loss would not render you a bankrupt, pour it out ; if other- 
 wise, give it up to your creditors, and advise them to pour it out. 
 And let it be at no hour of the day, nor day of the week, nor 
 week of the year, nor year of time, when you ever embark in 
 another recruit, and our prayer shall be that God will bless you. 
 
 VIII. But another dealer was heard to say, If I do not supply 
 the drunkard with the means of his own undoing, another will, and I 
 may as well have the profits as any one. 
 
 And would you add, I may as well be condemned for it as ano- 
 ther 1 The dictate of wisdom is, If it would be wrong to do it, 
 
464 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 don't you do it. It is fearfully hazardous to commit sin, because 
 it will be committed. Let them do it that dare do it, but let no 
 one rush upon destruction with his eyes open. No argument has 
 done more mischief than this, and yet none is more weak. Must 
 I be willing to sin, and risk my soul, because somebody will sin if 
 I do not \ May I keep a gambling house because there are a 
 great many people who will be inconsiderate, and become mad on 
 the game, and will gamble, and if I do not provide them the means 
 of their undoing, and have the profits of it, others will 1 Shall I 
 go farther still, and keep that house which the wise man calls the 
 way to hell, because if I do not another will ] Shall I furnish 
 daggers and firebrands, because men will be so depraved that they 
 will burn houses, and I may as well have the profits of furnishing 
 them the means as any one 1 Men will practice forgery ; and 
 hence the worthless Burrows, who sells well executed bank notes 
 as pictures, to which any villain who has skill in penmanship can 
 affix the signature, can offer a plea as good as yours in support of 
 his calling. Somebody will print, and furnish notes for counter- 
 feiters, if he does not. Ah ! the argument proves too much, and 
 so proves nothing. Will not God ask you in the last day the 
 fearful question, where is Abel thy brother ? 
 
 IX. I knew one merchant who sustained himself in the practice 
 by the plea, That good men should be the only venders of ardent spi- 
 rits, as they will keep the most decent houses, and sell the poison most 
 discreetly. 
 
 It frightens one to bring up the conclusions that can be sustained 
 by this argument. It would go to prove that every gateway to 
 hell should be kept by an angel, not indeed to keep men from en- 
 tering and passing that way, but to make men pass on to perdition 
 decently. No ! no ! Highly as we respect and esteem some of 
 the men who have been formerly employed in the traffic, we would, 
 if possible, from this time, disassociate it for ever from character 
 and decency. If the article must be sold for the use, and ruin, and 
 utter damnation of men, / would place at the tap the same lying ser- 
 pent that handed Eve the apple, that it might appear the very infernal 
 commerce that it is. The prince of hell would thus have opportunity 
 to separate from his kingdom all that is moral, and decent and 
 healthful, and his empire be dark and dreary as he would have it. 
 But you will say I am too severe. No matter, if I am only on the 
 side of truth. 
 
465 
 
 X. But a retailer says, The importers and distillers are in fault, 
 and should not furnish the temptation. 
 
 Ah ! it would, indeed, be very convenient for us, if other men 
 would dam up the currents of death, and leave us nothing to 
 do. It would indeed be a blessing incalculable, if the distillers and 
 importers would stop their business, and thus quench the stream 
 of liquid fire at the very foot of its ^Etna. But can we not, and 
 will we not quit sinning, unless the means of sinning are put out 
 of our reach 1 Dare you not disoblige that portion of the com- 
 munity that ask you to kill them, and damn them 1 Do they so 
 hold your destiny in their hands, that you may not hope to prosper 
 without their friendship 1 Suppose our rich importers should 
 bring in whole ship loads of poignards, and place them on the side- 
 walks of our city, and you should seize one, and plunge it into 
 some human heart, would the court lay the sin, or any part of it, 
 at the door of the importer, or would it sentence you to be hanged 1 
 
 I know it would be very convenient, if we could persuade other 
 men to do our duty, and stop us, when we will not stop ourselves, 
 in the paths of unrighteousness. But we have no right to expect 
 that reform will begin at this end. Men will stop manufacturing 
 and importing, only when the trade is no longer profitable. While 
 the trade is in the way to gain and wealth, there are men who 
 would not abandon it, hardly if they saw the world on fire. No ! 
 public sentiment must be urged up, till there shall be none to drink, 
 and then there will be none to retail, and then there will be none 
 to import or manufacture. This is the order and the process by 
 which all the good has been accomplished that ever has been done 
 in the world. 
 
 XI. There is another reply that we have heard from venders 
 that should not pass unnoticed. They say, Legislators should, by 
 heavy imposts and taxation, stay the influx and the creation of the arti- 
 cle, and thus cure the evil, by drying up the fountain. ' 
 
 All this is visionary. Till the people are willing to quit the use 
 of it, and venders to dispense with the gains of it, our rulers know 
 well that they shall lose their office if they meddle with it. It 
 would be both convenient and desirable, and more yet, duty, that 
 our civil authorities remove the temptation by legislative acts, and 
 thus save us the labor and toil, of boosting public sentiment to 
 accomplish the matter in another way. But a corrupt community 
 under a government like ours, will always have a legislature that 
 live at peace with its corruptions. The men in office will duly 
 59 
 
466 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 represent their constituents, and wear, at least, all the vices pre- 
 valent among the people. Hence a good influence must travel 
 upward, and reach the legislature by individual impulse. 
 
 As said already, men have consciences, legislative and corporate 
 bodies have none. Men, too, expect a future judgment, but cor- 
 porate and legislative bodies fear only a loss of their influence, 
 office and salary. Vice may flow down, therefore, but virtue must 
 climb. When far more than a moiety of our population are 
 strictly temperate, and have no interest to serve by conniving at 
 lust, especially when the better part shall feel that their interest 
 would be served by having the community temperate, then, it will 
 be popular to legislate on this subject, and the authorities of our 
 land will make whatever enactments we pray for. 
 
 Only let the people quit drinking, and the venders quit selling, 
 and then, when we stand in no need of their help, our legislative 
 bodies will be the perfect sycophants of the temperate, as they are, 
 and long have been, of the drunken community. Thus the de- 
 stroyer will be strangled in his dotage, but every man of discern- 
 ment must see that the power and influence that shall do the work,, 
 must be individual, and not legislative. 
 
 XII. But said one, (not the last by ten thousand,) my property 
 is my own, and I will not permit my enjoyment of it to be abridged 
 by your hypocritical and fanatical opinions. 
 
 Your property your own ! ! You do not mean that you created 
 it, nor yet that independently of God you earned it, or gained it. 
 If your wealth was through the products of the earth, it was God 
 that sent the showers, and shaped the seasons, and tempered the 
 atmosphere, and grew your wheat for you. If it was through suc- 
 cess in trade, it was God that lifted you up, that furnished you 
 with the mind you used, and directed the gale that blew your 
 commerce home, and stayed the storm that might have wrecked 
 your fortune- in a moment. If gotten by toil, then it was God that 
 nerved the arm to labor, and built, and sustained every muscle and 
 sinew that went to the work, and made the heart beat, and the 
 lungs heave, and forced the life stream along in its dark and mys- 
 terious channel. 
 
 If you mean any thing that contradicts all this, your property is 
 not your own, but the Lord's. The silver and gold are His. His 
 are all the beasts of the forest, and the cattle upon a thousand 
 hills. If we are God's stewards, and our wealth is his, we may 
 not use it in contravention of his authority and still expect that 
 
MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 467 
 
 he will give us day by day our daily bread. He will rather blast 
 us with the breath of his mouth, and destroy us with the bright- 
 ness of his coming. Oh ! how terrible is that account, which we 
 must give at last of the manner in which we have squandered the 
 Lord's money, in trying to undo a world that God would render 
 blessed. It seems to me, that there is an inference, plainly de- 
 ducible from the word of the Lord, like this : " If God spared not 
 his own Son, but freely gave him up for us all," in what light will 
 he regard the man whose whole powers are bent to counteract by 
 every possible means in his power, the purposes of his mercy. 
 When he shall make inquisition for blood, will not the whole cata- 
 logue of venders stand out in bold relief, on the tablet of the judg- 
 ment. 
 
 I think I see a reason, why the very men who have increased 
 their estate by this traffic, should be, now the light has broken in, 
 among the first to see, and cure the plague. If the subject should 
 press any consciences in our land, it should be the consciences of 
 the men who are living at ease on the gains of this trade. Their 
 motives to feel, and act, it would seem, must be weighty as a 
 world. ' Let me present a few of these motives. 
 
 Retailers ! Ye know not what ye do. You cannot fully estimate 
 the amount of mischief you may have done to families, and to 
 souls already. You must live, if God will let you, and your off- 
 spring, in the society which your traffic is corrupting. The plague 
 may reach some child or friend of yours, and he may quit life in 
 the cabin of the debauched, and moulder in a drunkard's grave. 
 This world belongs to the Lord Jesus, while your trade is increas- 
 ing its alienation from him. The misery produced by ardent spir- 
 its is causing a thousand hearts to ache, and we wish some evi- 
 dence that yours ache. The retailer brings about him a commu- 
 nity in which his soul cannot live, and be in health. An estate 
 gotten by a traffic that is cursing the world, cannot go down to 
 posterity with the blessing of God. Many things indicate that the 
 entire world will soon be subdued to the Lord Jesus, but this can- 
 not be, and the trade in alcohol continue. The dying groans of 
 the thirty thousand drunkards, who perish annually in our land, 
 should move you. The moans of their widows and orphans should 
 move you. That " drunkards shall not inherit the kingdom of 
 God," should move you. " Wo to him that giveth his neighbor 
 drink," should move you. 
 
 God will make you your brother's keeper. I have learned that a 
 poor woman went to a neighboring grog shop, and requested the 
 
468 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 dealer not to sell any more rum to her husband, as it sometimes 
 rendered him a madman. A few days afterward in a rum excited 
 frenzy, he plunged the knife into her throat. She stayed the blood 
 with her hand, and ran to the shop, and there poured out her life- 
 stream at the feet of the wretch who had just pocketed the price 
 of her blood. 
 
 Not long since the following tragedy was acted over in New 
 York. One of our builders was suddenly called to the death-bed 
 of his child. A man in his service, supposing that his employer 
 would naturally return no more to the building during that day, 
 determined to spend it in the pleasures of a debauch. When men 
 have made up their minds to be drunkards, they will not stick at 
 all at a lie. He hasted off to one of our good moral characters, 
 whom the authorities of the city have licensed to sell ardent spir- 
 its, and in his employer's name asked for a quart of rum. I do 
 not know that he offered, as the reason for getting it, that his em- 
 ployer's child was at the point of death, a very common subter- 
 fuge in these days, but he was denied the rum because he had no 
 order to this effect. He went, however, to another dealer and 
 procured the quart, and drank it, I know not whether at one draught 
 or four, and immediately sunk into an apoplectic slumber, pro- 
 found as the sleep of death, and came not back again to reason, 
 till he awoke in the world of wo. This remark is made in the 
 firm belief of that section in the book of God which declares that 
 no drunkard hath inheritance in the kingdom of God. The miser- 
 able man seems to have been mad on his own destruction. He 
 did the deed in the very face of death. He would have feared 
 to play the fool, had not his employer been called to the death- 
 bed. If he had feared death as much, or had any fear of God be- 
 fore his eyes, he might have escaped perdition at that time. Or 
 had he been a man of truth, then he had lived, or had the man, or 
 rather the woman, that sold him the quart, for it was a woman, 
 had there been the fear of God in her heart, then he had lived. 
 Poor soul ! he had several chances of living, but they all failed. 
 
 And let me say here though I am quite ashamed to suppose 
 that a woman would encourage that sin that is binding her sex in 
 chains of iron the woman who sold him the potion that brought 
 him to a premature grave, had lived with an intemperate husband, 
 who in a fit of intoxication, had burned the building that stood on 
 the very ground where she sold the rum. Thus men and women 
 too, it seems, can sport with fire-brands, arrows, and death. It 
 would seem that one had had the means of being warned and wak- 
 
469 
 
 ened, if any warning would render woman wise. But she took 
 up her husband and buried him, and then went to selling rum. I 
 sincerely hope she will not follow him to the drunkard's grave. 
 When her bed was on fire first, and then her house, and she at 
 length a widow, who would have dreamed that she would have em- 
 ployed herself in selling liquid fire ! tempora ! mores ! I 
 passed it a few evenings since, the evening of the Sabbath, and 
 saw at her door two sturdy sons of Erin fisting and biting each 
 other, like sons of Belial, and screaming at each bite, and pounce 
 like panthers on some craggy rocks of the Alps. We called the 
 watch, and had them put where they would get sober, and where 
 they would have opportunity to meet the police, all breakfasted 
 and warm, and answer to the board, who gave them license to be 
 riotous, for the tumult of the Sabbath evening. 
 
 0, how it sickens the heart to know one such case all through ! 
 I remember that it was a law in Israel, that in an extreme case, 
 when a house had the leprosy, it should be cleansed by being burnt 
 to ashes. But it seems that even burning does not cleanse the 
 modern leprosy. The disease outlives the fire, and comes up from 
 the ashes like the fabled Phoenix, all fledged for a renewed occu- 
 pancy. I suppose it finds a covert in the crumbling walls and 
 burning timbers, and comes out again to infect the timbers and 
 walls that are used in repairing the ruins. I fear nothing will cure 
 it but the heat of that pit, " the pile whereof is fire and much 
 wood, and the breath of the Lord like a stream of brimstone doth 
 kindle it." 
 
 In a town at the north, where the cause of temperance gained 
 a few years since a sudden and powerful ascendancy in the public 
 mind, there died a rum-seller, in circumstances that made a power- 
 ful impression on many minds. Another family lived in the house 
 with him, and one day the lady of that family, perceiving by what 
 she heard and saw, that something was going on that was wrong, 
 burst suddenly into his apartment, and found him hanging by the 
 neck. She called her husband, who immediately cut him down. 
 But as as it was his purpose to die as soon as he could recover 
 strength, he broke from the embrace that held him, ran to a shelf, 
 seized a razor, and hastily opened a jugular vein, and died in a 
 few seconds. 
 
 The history of the transaction is short. The man had begun to 
 be intemperate, was a customer at his own bar, and very soon per- 
 ceived that he must feel the pressure of the hard times, which tip- 
 pling always produces, especially when one becomes an inebriate 
 
470 
 
 at his own bar. He had been observed to be gloomy, but I do not 
 remember that any apprehensions as to such a result had been en- 
 tertained till the fatal moment when he was found hanging by the 
 neck. How long he had been in the trade I do not remember, nor 
 can I judge to what extent he had offended the Lord, by the ruin 
 he had brought upon other families. He was a dealer in the arti- 
 cle ; and I remember that the society afterwards formed in that 
 town, calculated, that every trader in the town manufactured, at 
 the least calculation, one confirmed drunkard every three years, 
 and sent one family down into the vale of beggary and rags and 
 wretchedness. If, then, unless this calculation was erratic and 
 wild, he had been a dealer in the article three years, and I know 
 not but he had twenty, he had probably ruined one family, and God 
 in righteous indignation made him a victim to his own traffic. I 
 would willingly have thrown a veil over this scene, and saved his 
 widow, who has married honorably, and his children, who, for 
 aught I know, are doing well, the pain of applying this scrap of 
 history to their own case, were it not that we have been silent too 
 long already, and indulged our sense of delicacy till we have al- 
 lowed the plague to spread through every limb of our rising and 
 otherwise happy republic. But we must be no longer so much 
 afraid of wounding the sensibility of the living, as not to expose 
 the speaking facts which have transpired in the madness and ruin 
 that men have brought upon themselves and others by the sale of 
 strong drink. If we had only courage enough to dig through the 
 wall, and lay open the chamber of imagery, as the prophet was 
 directed to do, and see the train of misery and death that moves 
 in the wake of every rum-dealer in the land, the tale would make 
 the ears of every one who heard it tingle. Oh ! he has the heart 
 of a tiger, and blood is his legitimate prey. When we see how 
 with a spirit of cold moneyed calculation, he can take the lovely 
 woman and the beloved wife and crucify her husband, and turn her 
 from her home, to starve and freeze, and make her children beg- 
 gars and homeless and fatherless at a price at which one would 
 hardly cut off the head of a dog, we are amazed at the Jong-suf- 
 fering patience of God. And I know not whether he even weeps 
 at the outrages he commits. Were I not the subject of feelings 
 too strong to trust myself, I would stop and address him if I might 
 in a voice loud enough to reach the two oceans. I would say, 
 that the man who is destined to such a business, ought to have 
 been whelped by a wolf and destined to wear his teeth and his ap- 
 petite, that his personal equipments might agree with his office^ 
 
MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 471 
 
 and herd him with his kind. I would train him to his work in the 
 business of a blood-hound, that he might scent his prey afar off. I 
 would at least have him bred a hangman, and spend the whole foun- 
 tain of his tears before he should be placed at the tap. Then his 
 employment and his soul would be in unholy symphony. 
 
 But I must return from my impassioned feeling, or you will say 
 I rail. In our country every man must be free. True, but the 
 term is abused. One ought not to free to make disastrous inroads 
 upon every family that he may have it in his power to destroy. 
 He ought not to be free to do this even if the father of that 
 family is willing that it should be done. If one had power sud- 
 denly to convert men into panthers, and could obtain license so 
 to do, he ought not to feel himself at liberty to do it, till the whole 
 community around him are consulted on the question whether it 
 would be safe to have a panther run at large. To be free is not 
 to be free to destroy, and he has not this kind of freedom even 
 with regard to the soil he owns. He may not so use it as to in- 
 jure his neighbor. He may not dig a deep pit and leave it open. 
 He may not overthrow a build ing, even if he will, and can operate 
 only on his own premises. He may not incautiously blast the pon- 
 derous rock that may lie in his own territory. He may not be 
 free to remove some natural embankment that wards off a stream 
 which, when turned upon his neighbor's habitation, would endan- 
 ger the life of his family. One may not have the freedom to set 
 fire to his own house. He may not fall the tree that may even 
 throw down his neighbor's enclosures. Free as we are in this 
 country, we are free only to use our own things so as not to injure 
 our neighbor. And on this principle it is easy to show the extent 
 to which men are free to sell ardent spirits. 
 
 Having finished my rhapsody last evening at rather a late hour, 
 under strongly excited feelings, I retired to my bed, and fancied 
 myself employed in advocating the cause of an injured man. He 
 had been prosecuted for a libel by one of our retailers who would 
 impede the cause of reform by bringing odium upon the man who 
 ventured to rebuke his iniquitous traffic. It ran as follows, as 
 nearly as I can remember. 
 
 May it please the court. I have risen to advocate the cause of 
 an injured man. You have heard the testimony, and the wretch 
 stands before you. What has his history been but that of a miser, 
 a swindler, a calumniator, a robber, and a bear. I know the court 
 feel clement while I name that man after the blackest prowler of 
 the desert. He has lived to counteract the benevolence of God, 
 
472 MAN HIS BROTHER'S KEEPER. 
 
 
 
 and send want and misery, and infamy arid death, into habitations, 
 otherwise the abode of comfort and hope. It has been his employ- 
 ment, the work he delights in, and what his soul is shaped to, to 
 barter disease, and famine, and riot, and ruin, for farms, and dwell- 
 ings, and moneys, to hoard up, and boast of, and buy a name with, 
 and friendship, and influence. I will not name his calling, for he 
 disgraces even that, and there are men in it whose shoe latchet he 
 may not unloose. The power of calculating his own interest is 
 the only one of his soul that he has cultivated. He would depopu- 
 late the world, if he could hold in fee simple the whole territory. 
 Principle he hds none. What is right, or virtuous, or decent he 
 never once asks himself, when money can be had. 
 
 He would ruin his family to gain pelf, would school his offspring 
 in his own house with the tippler, the lewd, and the lost, and then 
 wonder why he has not better children. All the degraded pay 
 court to him, will serve him because he feeds their appetites, and 
 blunts their reason, and kills the keenness of their consciences, and 
 smiles on their deeds of darkness /ind desperation. A friend he 
 has not, nor cares to have, unless that friend will help him heap 
 up gold. 
 
 His very advocate is bought over to him by the fee, and has 
 cursed his client as he passed him a thousand times, loudly and 
 fearlessly. If you would kill the charm that his money has, his 
 cringing advocate would rise, and put off his hypocritical face, and 
 shout a loud and long amen to every execration I can dash upon 
 him. 
 
 How has he treated my client, and why 1 hated him, insulted 
 him, belied him, excited others to do the like deeds, and all the 
 while be buying eulogies for himself by his drams: 
 
 And for what all this ! For knowing him too well, for rebuking 
 him too sharply, for holding out no Bible hope to him, for unbaring 
 perdition to him, for hurting his fraudulent gains, by advocating a 
 virtue that will not be duped by his money, and forming a public 
 opinion that desecrates him, and last and most of all, by exhibiting 
 a manliness of deportment, and a rigidness of morals, that casts 
 upon him a shade dark as the sulphurous smoke of the pit. 
 
 The court will not rebuke me. They ought so to do, were I 
 speaking of a man. But they know, and the jury know, that my 
 client has encountered a bear, who cannot be made more black, 
 nor mischievous, nor deformed, than he really is. 
 
 I submit the case. I need not have said any thing. The jury 
 will stay in their box and write their verdict. They will rescue 
 
473 
 
 my client from the claws of the Ursus, and beat him off to go and 
 hunt other prey, with his teeth blunted, and his nails shortened, 
 and his track scented, as he traces his future midnight routes. 
 
 Justice will overtake him now and hereafter. Now, by your ver- 
 dict, and hereafter, by the storm of rebuke that will brood over 
 him. His ill-gotten estate will go to the winds. Some heir of his 
 will squander it as fast as he obtained it, and send his father's 
 name with it into oblivion. 
 
 Ah ! but I just now remember that he will be tried by a higher 
 court, and have a being when the moon is turned to blood. Let 
 me say to him, Poor man, think of that last day. Will your abuse 
 of my client ease your expiring pillow 1 Will it stay the rage of 
 the fever 1 Will it cool your burning tongue 1 Will it light up 
 your dying chamber 1 Will it bribe off death, and hold at bay his 
 angels 1 Will it illumine your avenue to the dark world, or up- 
 ward to a better 1 No. 
 
 60 
 
SERMON XLI. 
 TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 
 
 ROMANS VIII. 6. 
 But to be spiritually minded is life and peace. 
 
 WE have here precisely the contrast of the dark picture con- 
 tained in the former clause. That we may not mistake the cha- 
 racter drawn in this clause of the text, we have the description in 
 the verse preceding : " While they that are after the flesh mind the 
 things of the flesh, they that are after the spirit mind the things 
 of the spirit." They dwell with delight on the character of God, 
 the plan of mercy, and the glories of heaven. Their thoughts and 
 their affections are spiritual. They are frequently conversant with 
 the things unseen, and find a real substance in all the objects of 
 faith. With them, the body, with all its wants and cares, is a 
 minor consideration, while the amazing interests of the soul are 
 paramount to all other interests. To them the duties of religion 
 are pleasant, and the cares and vexations of this life unpleasant, 
 when they intrude upon the thoughts and cares of a better. 
 
 To be thus spiritually minded is life and peace ; or the life of 
 true piety is a life of peaceful pleasure. This sentiment we shall 
 illustrate. 
 
 1. A life of holiness is calculated to fill the mind with the rich- 
 est enjoyment, and raise it to its highest state of improvement. 
 The objects of contemplation that lie before the believing mind 
 are dignified, and worthy its occupancy. The mind was made 
 capable of dwelling with interest and profit on nobler objects than 
 we can see or handle objects that can be seen only by the eye 
 of faith. Hence the mind connected with a heart that is holy, 
 rises above all that is created, and employs its powers in contem- 
 plating the glory of God, and the emanations of that glory which 
 are spread over other beings. Some object of sense may be the 
 vehicle that conveys the mind to God ; and when there it finds 
 an infinite resource of all that is grand and rich. His attributes 
 have each their attractive charms. To gaze upon but one would 
 be all the heaven that a finite creature would need. But the whole 
 
TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 475 
 
 combined become a cluster whose brightness entrances every 
 power of the mind, and oblige it to forget itself lost in a gran- 
 deur, a greatness, and a glory which no language can describe. 
 The plan of redemption which discloses the doctrine of a Trinity, 
 and raises a hope in the breast of sinners, opens before the be- 
 lieving mind a scene which it would love to linger through all 
 the ages of its duration. Here the spiritual rnind feasts, and grows, 
 and lives. It is an atmosphere far above that which breathes about 
 the carnal mind. It is true that the good man has too many 
 thoughts that are earthly, sensual, and grovelling. He is too 
 often conscious of starving a heavenly mind by detaining it on 
 earth, and filling it with sublunary cares. 
 
 But, habitually, the good man has some rich and noble thoughts 
 every day, and grieves when they do not return every -hour. He has 
 laid up his treasure in heaven, a treasure to which his earthly good 
 things will not compare, and about that treasure his mind loves to 
 hover and play. Now who does not see that a mind thus occu- 
 pied, has a more dignified employ than one that exhausts all its 
 energies in the contemplation of what can moulder and rot. While 
 the one may be said to live, the other is subjected to death. In 
 these sublime contemplations the reasoning powers find a profita- 
 ble employment, calculated to give them life and vigor. No man 
 reasons correctly, who does not give to unseen things a paramount 
 value. Nor has any man a subject worthy to employ his powers of 
 research, who has always dwelt upon the objects of a created world. 
 It is the Christian who can the sooner mature his mental energies. 
 When the great Newton was wandering about among the stars, 
 had he not been the friend of God, and seen his hand in every law 
 he discovered, he would still have died as a child, and would have 
 carried an infant mind to the judgment. But every thing he saw 
 bore the impress of an unseen agency, and led his mind up to the 
 Author. The doctrines of the Bible, the duties and the destinies 
 of men, employ to advantage the energies of a spiritual mind. 
 When it can there trace the history of Providence, or force its 
 way down through the dark track of prophesy, it finds all its pow- 
 ers put in requisition to vindicate the ways of God, to discover the 
 designs of his mercy, and date the period of his forbearance, and 
 its own deliverance. Thus to be spiritually minded is life, inas- 
 much as it gives the intellect a proper employ, and best promotes 
 the improvement of this noble power of the man. 
 
 2. A life of piety furnishes the heart with those affections which 
 give it the highest pleasure, and best promote its improvement. 
 
476 TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT* 
 
 There is no small object in God's kingdom. If he is not the im- 
 mediate object of the affections of his people, still they have a no- 
 ble object. If they love his law, his gospel, his government, his 
 Church, or even the humblest individual in his household, there is 
 no one of these affections of which angels would be ashamed. 
 " There is joy in the presence of the angels of God, over one sin- 
 ner that repenteth." The objects of Christian affection are all 
 of that nature that God highly approves, and to which heaven is 
 closely assimilated. 
 
 How altered is the man, who, from having placed his warmest 
 regards on the dying objects of time and sense, is brought by the 
 grace of God to love these higher, better objects ; who, having 
 long employed his heart in exercises of pride, envy, covetousness, 
 wrath, malice, lust, and every other base and sordid affection, is 
 brought to the exercise of love, joy, and peace ; who having in- 
 dulged unbelief and all the catalogue of wrong affections that fol- 
 low in the train, is now adding " to his faith, virtue ; and to virtue, 
 knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, 
 patience ; and to patience, godliness ; and to godliness, brotherly 
 kindness 5 and to brotherly kindness, charity." It is impossible 
 not to see that such a heart is more at rest, has a nobler employ- 
 ment, breathes a higher, purer atmosphere, and enjoys a better 
 peace, than the man who suffers his affections to linger about the 
 objects of sense. 
 
 Occasionally his enjoyment bears a very near relation to heaven 
 itself. God is pleased to disclose his character, and grant a 
 glimpse of his glory, and before it every object that was ever 
 loved disappears, as the stars are hid by the beams of the sun. 
 But these seasons are too short, and cannot be mentioned as the 
 habitual condition of a believer. Still in the darkest hour, the be- 
 liever has heavenly affections, and may be said to live, while the 
 unbeliever, in his happiest hours, is the prey of spiritual death. 
 
 3. Piety cultivates a better conscience than can be found in the 
 carnally minded. The Christian is the only man who considers 
 conscience his friend, who esteems it a blessing that God has 
 placed this monitor in his bosom, and who expects with pleasure 
 its admonitions. He aims to have his conscience enlightened, 
 takes proper pains to acquaint himself with duty, treasures up the 
 truth, and with a moral sense thus illuminated, guides himself by 
 its dictates. It becomes his habit to submit every moral act to 
 the decisions of this internal court. Thus preserving a pure con- 
 science, it often approves of his deeds, and when polluted is sprin- 
 I 
 
TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 477 
 
 kled again from dead works to serve the living God. By such a 
 course, this power of the soul is honored and. improved, till the 
 man carries the law with him, and is enabled, in a good degree, 
 to square his life by its precepts. You will perceive that it is my 
 aim to describe the thing as it should be. Too often, however, 
 the good man does not cultivate that tenderness of conscience, 
 which his comfort requires should exist. It was so polluted be- 
 fore his conversion, and has even now so little light, that it may 
 almost be said the light that is in him is darkness. The Christian, 
 however, has one happy resort. When he has defiled his con- 
 science, he applies afresh to the blood of sprinkling, is forgiven, 
 and has peace of conscience. Probably Christians greatly differ 
 in this respect, and no doubt they differ as widely in this aggre- 
 gate of their joy. Other things being equal, he is far the happiest 
 man who has the purest conscience, who most promptly applies 
 for its decision, and most cheerfully obeys its dictates. Still, in 
 every good man, conscience is more or less honored and culti- 
 vated, while in the opposite character, it is hated and neglected, 
 as heaven's unwelcome sentinel. 
 
 4. A life of piety promotes happiness. To be spiritually minded 
 is life and peace. This is a point that will be generally conceded. 
 It is said,* however, that there are some whom religion has made 
 unhappy. They are cut off from the pleasures of sense, while 
 their hopes of glory, and their enjoyment of God are too inoperat- 
 ive to render them happy. That in many cases this appears to be 
 true, there can be no doubt j but there can be as little doubt that 
 the failure is chargeable, not to religion, but to its absence. Great 
 peace have they that love thy law, and nothing shall offend them. 
 Said our Lord to his disciples, " Peace I leave with you ; my peace 
 I give unto you." And of all believers it is said, that they have 
 peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Now it would be 
 infidelity to doubt whether God will fulfil his promises. In Christ 
 they are all yea and amen. 
 
 In these doubtful cases, then, we are to* fear, either that the 
 heart is not yet renewed, or that sin is still indulged, for which 
 God in righteousness withholds his comforts. 
 
 There is opened before the believer a vast resource of comfort. 
 He has joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, whom having 
 not seen we love, and in whom though now we see him not, yet, 
 believing we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. He 
 has fellowship with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. He 
 finds a friend and a brother in every follower of the Lord Jesus. 
 
478 TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 
 
 He enjoys the ministry of angels. He is conscious of penitence, 
 and has ordinarily a hope of forgiveness. He is permitted through 
 rich grace to cast an eye forward toward heaven as his everlasting 
 home. He may have many trials in the present life ; but the pro- 
 mise is, and on this promise he lives, that all things shall work 
 together for good to them that love God. Darkness may endure 
 for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. He will be likely to 
 have his enemies, but no weapon formed against him shall prosper. 
 He will be tempted, but with every temptation God will make a 
 way of escape. In a little wrath God may hide his face from him 
 for a moment, but with everlasting kindness will he have mercy 
 upon him. His shoes shall be iron and brass, and as his day is so 
 shall his strength be. God will be with him in six troubles, and 
 in seven he will not forsake him. This charter reads, " When 
 thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee, and through 
 the rivers, they shall not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through 
 the fire, thou shalt not be burnt neither shall the flames kindle 
 upon thee. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to 
 keep thee in all thy ways : they shall bear thee up in their hands, 
 lest thou dash thy foot against a stone." " Therefore let no man 
 glory in men, for all things are yours, whether Paul, or Apollos, or 
 Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things 
 to come ; all are yours, and ye are Christ's and Christ is God's." 
 The promise and the persuasion is, that " neither death, nor life, nor 
 angels nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things 
 to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be 
 able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus 
 our Lord." 
 
 The covenant that binds him to his Lord is an everlasting cove- 
 nant, well ordered in all things, and sure. Hence, while he is as- 
 sured that to live is Christ, he is equally confident that to die would 
 be gain. What he shall be it does not yet appear. He has about 
 him a body of sin and death, has many fears that he may perish at 
 last, and often, perhaps, refuses the comforts offered him, because 
 his prospects of heaven are so clouded that he dares not to rejoice. 
 Could he know that when the earthly house of this tabernacle is 
 dissolved, he has a building of God, a house not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens, this would fill up the catalogue of his com- 
 forts. As things are, he would not quit his hold of heaven for a 
 thousand worlds. And if he must wade them in his own tears, if 
 to save his soul he must let every creature comfort go, still the 
 hope of heaven can make amends. 
 
TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 4/79 
 
 If, in this shaded description of the good man, any of you sup- 
 pose that I have made him, and left him unhappy, then is there a 
 doubt whether you are of the character I have described. In the 
 midst of his tears the good man is happy. He weeps because he 
 is a sinner, and because he hopes he is forgiven. He is troubled 
 on every side, but not distressed ; he is perplexed, but not in de- 
 spair ; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast down, but not destroy- 
 ed. His light afflictions are but for a moment, and will work out 
 for him a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Thus, 
 to be spiritually minded, is life and peace. I close with one 
 
 REMARK. 
 
 If thus abundant are the joys of the spiritually minded in this 
 life, how unspeakable must be the glory of the life to come. The 
 Christian, when he escapes from this dark world, will leave behind 
 him this dying body. It is now a clog and a vexation to his hea- 
 venly mind. When the spirit may be willing, the flesh is weak. 
 But the long expected moment arrives soon, when this mortal shall 
 put on immortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. This 
 weary head, as said the dying Harriet,* will soon rest sweetly on 
 the bosom of Jesus. We read, They shall hunger no more, neither 
 thirst any more. The inhabitants of the heavenly world shall no 
 more say they are sick. The weary are to be at rest. Every tear 
 shall be dry. 
 
 The disembodied mind will be greatly enlightened. There will 
 not hang over it those dark mists that now becloud every prospect. 
 The ways of God will be illuminated, and the wisdom of all his 
 purposes appear. No more shall it be said that clouds and dark- 
 ness are round about him, or be doubted whether righteousness 
 and judgment are the habitations of his throne. The believer will 
 no longer see through a glass darkly, but face to face. He will 
 then be satisfied, having awaked from death in the likeness of his 
 Redeemer. 
 
 Which leads me to say farther, he will be free from sin. He 
 will no longer tire under the body of this death. I shall be like him, 
 said one of his holy family, for I shall see him as he is. What un- 
 utterable joy must this thought create. There can be no hope 
 so rich as that the day is coming when I shall no more offend my 
 Savior by sin, when my conscience will be no more polluted, and 
 my peace destroyed by disobedience. One might wish all the 
 
 * Harriet Newell. 
 
480 TRUE PIETY PEACEFULLY PLEASANT. 
 
 years annihilated that separate him from that happy hour. How 
 does the animated soul leap forward to embrace the pleasures of 
 that lovely moment. Yes, my brother, you may hope that one 
 day sin will no more have dominion over you. If it seems a bles- 
 sing too rich for such a worm as you, then you have only to adore 
 the grace that issued this doom. Just so kind are the designs of 
 God. And if his grace does not draw forth our warmest gratitude 
 the very stones of the street will cry out. 
 
 Here when the Christian quits the body he will leave behind 
 him all his fears. The fear that he may yet perish sometimes fills 
 him with agony. He would give a world to have this one ques- 
 tion settled. Conceive, brethren, how you must feel if one day 
 you shall find yourselves in heaven. You will look back, and the 
 danger is all over. It was night about you, but the true light has 
 come. You passed close by the margin of the pit, but God cover- 
 ed it with his hand. You was condemned, but the Lord Jesus 
 gave his life for your ransom. You grieved the Spirit, but he did 
 not utterly forsake you. You became cold, and he revived you ; 
 you wandered, and he brought you back with stripes. Of all the 
 wonders of heaven, you will say, this is the greatest, That I am 
 here. They went to perdition from my neighborhood, some of my 
 own mother's children have perished, and I in heaven. And why, 
 Lord Jesus, why me. Why was I pressed on to this abode of joy, 
 while my own brother is lost, and my father is lost, and she that 
 bear me, and bent over me and heard my dying lips, have missed 
 the way, and can never mingle their song with mine. Blessed 
 Jesus, thou hast been my deliverer. 
 
VALUABLE BOOKS, 
 
 PUBLISHED AND FOR SALE BY 
 
 Baker & 0cribmr, 
 
 145 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH'S WORKS, Uniform Edition, 12 vols. 
 
 12mo. $6 00 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH'S JUVENILE WORKS (not included 
 
 "in the above 12 vois.), 7 vols. 18mo., 3 00 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 We have received numerous commendatory notices of our edition of Charlotte 
 Elizabeth's Works, from the religious papers of all denominations of Christians in 
 this country, and for the benefit of those who have not supplied themselves with 
 her books, we insert here a few which are believed to be a fair specimen of the opi- 
 nions of the press. . 
 
 From the Morning News. 
 
 WORKS OF CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH. Mrs. Charlotte Elizabeth Tonna is one 
 of the most gifted, popular, and truly instructive writers of the present day. In 
 clearness of thought, variety of topics, richness of imagery, and elegance of ex- 
 pression, it is scarcely too much to say, that she is the rival of Hannah More, or 
 to predict that her works will be as extensively and profitably read, as those of the 
 most delightful female writer of the last generation. All her writings are pervaded 
 by justness t.nd purity of sentiment, and the highest reverence for morality and re- 
 ligion ; and may safely be commended as of the highest interest and value to every 
 family in the land. 
 
 From the Religious Spectator. 
 
 If Charlotte Elizabeth were not one of the most attractive and useful writers of 
 the age, we might perhaps be ready to say that she was in danger of surfeiting the 
 public appetite, by her numerous productions; but as it is, we are constrained to 
 say the oftener she shows .herself as an author the better. Her works never tire j 
 and we are never even in doubt in respect to their useful tendency. 
 
 From the Albany Argus. 
 
 Charlotte Elizabeth's works have become so universally known, and are so highly 
 and deservedly appreciated in this country, that it has become almost superfluous 
 to mention them. We doubt exceedingly whether there has been any female writer 
 since Mrs. Hannah Moore, whose works are likely to be so extensively and so pro- 
 fitably read as hers. She thinks deeply and accurately, is a great analyst of the 
 human heart, and withal clothes her thoughts in most appropriate and eloquent 
 language. 
 
 From the Journal of Commerce. 
 
 These productions constitute a bright relief to the bad and corrupting literature 
 of which our age is so prolific, full of practical instruction, illustrative of the beauty 
 of Protestant Christianity, and not the less abounding in entertaining description 
 and narrative. 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH'S WORKS 
 
 CtS. CtS. 
 
 Personal Recollections, 1 vol. 12mo., 50 J Osric. a Missionary Tale, 38 
 
 Helen Fleetwood, 50 \ The Convent Bell, a Tale, 38 
 
 T-J-li-T.? C/i < 4Ni .... -. ~T 4 1 T" j. TV/?.,. or* 
 
 Judah's Lion, 50 
 
 Judaea Capta, 50 
 
 The Siege of Deny, 50 
 
 Letters from Ireland, 50 
 
 The Rockite, 50 
 
 Floral Biography, 50 
 
 Principalities and Powers, 50 
 
 English. Martyrs, 50 
 
 The Wrongs of Women, 50 
 The Church Visible in all Ages, 18mo., 50 
 
 Passing Thoughts, 38 
 
 Falsehood and" Truth, 38 
 
 Glimpses of the Past, or the Museum, 38 
 
 Philip and his Garden, 38 
 
 The Flower of Innocence, 38 
 
 The Simple Flower, 38 
 
 Alice Benclen, and other Tales, 38 
 
 Female Martyrs, 38 
 
 Tales and Illustrations, 38 
 
 Dressmakers and Milliners, 25 
 
 The Forsaken Home, 25 
 
 The Little Pin- Headers, 25 
 
 The Lace Runners, 25 
 
 Letter Writing, 25 
 
 Conformity, 38 j Back-Biting, 25 
 
 Izram, a Mexican Tale, 38 i Promising and Performing, 25 
 
 THE PEEP OF DAY, or a seriesof the earliest religious Instruction, the 
 Infant Mind is capable of receiving, with verses illustrative of the sub- 
 jects, 1 vol. 18mo. with engravings, $0 50 
 
 LINE UPON LINE, by the author of" Peep of Day," a second series, 50 
 
 PRECEPT UPON PRECEPT, by the author of " Peep of Day," etc., a 
 
 third series, 50 
 
 This is probably the best and most popular series of Juvenile Books ever pub- 
 lished. The publishers refer with the most entire confidence to all parents and 
 teachers who have introduced these books into their families or schools, who will 
 testify as to the useful and correct religious instruction which they contain. 
 
 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE GREAT REFORMATION, 
 abridged by the Rev. Edward Dalton, 1 vol. I8mo. 447 pages. 
 Price, $0 50 
 
 Probably no book of modern date has obtained such a wide-spread popularity, and 
 been so extensively read as D'Aubigne's History of the Great Reformation of the 
 sixteenth century, in Germany, Switzerland, &c. Engrossing and enduring as must 
 be the interest connected with the details of the historical incident of the Great 
 Reformation, the author of this work has invested them with all the charm and 
 fascination of romance. 
 
 The Abridgment retains most of the attractions of the larger work, and brings 
 it within the means, as to time and expense, of a still larger body of readers. Of 
 the faithfulness with which this abridgment has been made, the following testimo- 
 nial from the New York Observer of Oct. 21, is abundant and satisfactory evidence. 
 It is from the pen of a distinguished clergyman of New York, whose opinions on 
 such subjects are entitled to universal confidence. 
 
 " I have read the Rev. Mr. Dalton's Abridgment of D'Aubigne's History, as re- 
 printed by Mr.Taylor, and have fully compared it with Mr. Carter's edition of the 
 original work. 1 am free to say that I think the abridgment is made with great 
 fidelity and sound judgment- It consists almost wholly of the author's own words, 
 and embraces those parts which are of the mo?t prominent interest. Doubtless 
 those who can command the time will prefer to read the original work ; but those 
 who wish to have the substance of the work in less compass, will here find it faith- 
 fully condensed by one who entered into the true spirit of D'Aubigne. Both edi- 
 tions, I believe calculated to be eminently useful, and I wish to both the widest 
 circulation." 
 
 This work is printed on good type, contains 447 pages, and is sold at the exceed- 
 ingly low price of 50 cents." 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 From the American Protestant. 
 
 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Cheap edition. 
 
 Abridged by the REV. EDWARD DALTON. Second edition. 
 
 This edition of D'Aubigne, abridged by a skilful hand, has received the commen- 
 dations of the press, and of men of talent, for the rare merit it presents in the pre- 
 sent form. It is admirably adapted for Sunday School and Common School Libra- 
 ries, and for the family. None of the important facts of the original history are 
 omitted, or even mutilated; while all that is extraneous and common-place, has 
 been dropped. It is useless to talk about the advantage a child will reap from the 
 reading of the full edition ; the same argument should hold good for all purposes, 
 and we would have to banish booKs wholly from our School Libraries for, of the 
 historical portion of tho=e Libraries, hardly a single volume can be found, that is 
 not an abridgment of a more voluminous work Children must have the facts, and 
 the stirring interest of unbroken narrative; their age, and their unripe minds, im- 
 peratively demand them, and we might as well forbid them to study Astronomy ex- 
 cept through the barren formulas of La Place, as to forbid them to read history ex- 
 cept in the philosophic voluminousness of original productions. 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS, and other Fragments from the study 
 of a Pastor, by Gardiner Spring, D. D., Pastor of the Brick Presbyterian Church, 
 in the city of New York. 
 
 The following notice of Spring's Fragments is extracted from the New York 
 Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 The first piece, entitled the " Church in the Wilderness," is one of the most beau- 
 tiful sketches in our language. It is in every respect a finished production a pic- 
 ture complete in all its parts, that for a time captivates the affections, enchains the 
 powers of the mind, and fills the soul with the most exalted conceptions. The 
 Church is represented, under the various circumstances of her earthly allotment, 
 leaning on the arm of her Beloved, and deriving all her strength from this unfailing 
 source. The chastened but glowing fancy, elegance of diction, and purity of thought, 
 conspire to give beauty to the image, and make us dwell upon it with delight. 
 
 The other pieces in the collection are scarcely of inferior merit. " The Inquir- 
 ing Meeting" portrays with great vividness some of the phases which the human 
 heart exhibits, when under the influence of religious excitement. The " Letter to 
 a Young Clergyman" abounds in instructions of inestimable value. It may per- 
 haps be doubted whether the author attaches sufficient importance to pastoral visit- 
 ation. " The Panorama" is an affecting delineation of the employment of men as 
 they usually appear on the stage of active life. " The Useful Christian" contains 
 sound practical suggestions for informing the mind, icgulating the heart, and inspir- 
 ing energy of action. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF MRS. SARAH LOUISA TAYLOR, by REV. LOT 
 
 JONES, A.M. Fifth edition, ISmo., $050 
 
 From the Christian Mirror. 
 
 MEMOIR OF MRS. SARAH LOUISA TAYLOR: or an Illustration of the 
 work of the Holy Spirit, in awakening, renewing, and sanctifying the heart. Bv 
 LOT JONES, A. M. 
 
 Memoirs of individuals have become so common, that not a few may be ready to 
 ask, Why publish another ? We have no fears that the above question will be asked 
 by any one after reading this volume. If he does not feel u reproved, corrected, or 
 instructed in righteousness," it will be because he has made pre-eminent attain- 
 ments in scriptural knowledge, and holy, useful living; or else because his con- 
 science has lost its susceptibility. In Mrs. Taylor religion appears with dignity as 
 well as grace, in power as well as beauty. Hers was the faith which "works by 
 love, purifies the heart, and overcomes the world." Its fruits were choice and abun- 
 dant. Nor were her virtues cancelled, or their influence more than destroyed by 
 gross defects and blemishes. She had uncommon symmetry and harmony Of char- 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 acter. With a uniform and controlling desire to do good, she never lacked the 
 means and opportunity , and did much, in the best and highest sense of the expres- 
 sion. She won not a few to righteousness. Her religion was a religion of diligence 
 and energy, rendering her " steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the Work of 
 the Lord ;" and her labor was " not in vain." 
 
 We see in Mrs. Taylor the same religion, in its essential elements, and in its more 
 important developments, which glowed in and beamed forth from the " great cloud 
 of witnesses 5" the same faith, the same humility, the same dependence on atoning 
 blood, the same susceptibility to the constraining influence of Christ's love : " We 
 thus judge, that if Christ died for all, then all were dead ; and that he died for all 
 that they who live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto him who 
 died for them." We see deep religious experience, but no extravagance strong 
 feelings, but no fanaticism absorbing devotion, but no cant firmness of principle, 
 but no party bigotry. We have here, not only holiness in its principle, but the 
 beauty of holiness adorning and perfecting the character. 
 
 Mr. Jones was greatly favored in the subject of his narrative ; and he has wrought 
 up his materials with great skill and judgment. Nothing has been inserted, which 
 would have been better omitted ; and nothing appears to be wanting, which was 
 necessary to a just appreciation of her character. 
 
 We unhesitatingly commend this Memoir to all females, in all ranks of society. 
 The most refined and best educated will rise from its perusal, improved in literary 
 taste, intellectual expansion, and correct thinking : and the less favored will learn 
 from it what it is in their power to become by diligence, by prayer, by studying the 
 Scriptures, by a whole-hearted devotedness to the duties which they owe to God 
 and their fellow-men. 
 
 From the Boston Recorder. 
 
 MEMOIR OF MRS. SARAH LOUISA TAYLOR: or an Illustration of the 
 work of the Holy Spirit, in awakening, renewing, and sanctifying the heart By 
 LOT JONES, A. M. 
 
 It is not possible to do justice to this captivating and instructive volume within 
 the compass of the few lines to which our notice must be confined. And perhaps 
 it is best to desist altogether from an attempt to convey a correct impression of it to 
 our readers ; for it must be confessed that our own emotions on the perusal of it are 
 too strong to permit the exercise of the most cool and deliberate judgment as to its 
 intrinsic merits. To follow a lovely youth through the scenes of childhood and ri- 
 pening years ; to mark the various traits of intellectual and moral character, as they 
 are developed in the relations of the child, the sister, the friend, the wife, the mo- 
 ther, the teacher and the disciple of Jesus : and then to group the whole, and con- 
 template the triumphs of faith over natural affection, and the heart's corruptions, 
 and the power of death itself; cannot fail to excite very strong emotion in any bo- 
 som not petrified, even though the execution of the work were marked with many 
 imperfections. But Mr. Jones has not failed in the fulfilment of the task he has 
 assumed. The simplicity and clearness of his delineations ; the richness and ful- 
 ness of evangelical sentiment diffused through the whole, and arising naturally from 
 his subject, the dignified tenderness of style, and the accurate discrimination made 
 between spurious and genuine religion in his incidental remarks, show him to be a 
 workman that needeth not to be ashamed, and leave an impress on the volume that 
 will render it very precious to every evangelical reader Any Christian who de- 
 sires above all things to grow in grace, to learn the nature of the Christian conflict, 
 and to use successfully the weapons that shall give him the victory over his spirit- 
 ual enemies ; or, in one word, to learn " the mind of the Spirit" on these points, 
 will do well to study this volume. 
 
 From the Episcopal Sunday School Visitor. 
 
 Sometimes the usefulness of religious biography is lessened by a redundancy of 
 ornament in the style, by too many digressions, which are continually breaking into 
 the interest which the reader feels in the narrative, and driving away the profitable 
 reflections which it suggests to the mind. 
 
 It is very seldom that we meet with a book so entirely free from blemishes of 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 this kind, as the one before us. It is the simple portrait of an amiable, enlightened, 
 and devotedly pious Christian, drawn by a most judicious and faithful hand. 
 
 The young Christian who is just commencing his course, and whose temptations 
 and trials are sometimes leading him to despondency, will read this book with 
 thankfulness; and those who are yet strangers to vital religion may be induced, 
 from this lovely instance of its powerful effects in sustaining the soul, under the 
 heaviest afflictions of life, and in the hour of sickness and death, to seek for them- 
 selves an interest in the Lord JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 Mrs. Taylor evidently possessed a fine and cultivated mind. Of this the beauti- 
 ful fragments of poetry which are given in the course of the book, and the extracts 
 from her correspondence, are evidence. Had those talents been cultivated for the 
 world and its approbation, she might, perhaps, have attained all that this world can 
 give fame applause and celebrity. But what would they avail her now ? She 
 has chosen the better part, which cannot be taken from her. 
 
 It would be injustice to the publishers not to notice the beautiful manner in which 
 the work has been executed. The paper and type are excellent, and the engravings 
 good : but still the matter of the book is its main recommendation. 
 
 From the Episcopal Recorder. 
 
 This is a new work just issued from the press, and well worthy the attention of 
 Christians. It describes, mainly from her own writings, the character of a Chris- 
 tian, whose experience of the power of sin and of the power of grace, was deeper 
 than is usual, and whose example of usefulness to others gives beautiful evidence 
 of the reality of her own principles of character. We have been much interested 
 in looking over this volume, and rejoice in recommending it to our readers. They 
 will find it an uncommonly interesting and instructive biography, worthy of its ex- 
 cellent author, arid adapted to be eminently useful to themselves. 
 
 From the Christian Intelligencer. 
 
 This is a well-written biography of an amiable and devoted Christian, who pleas- 
 antly arid beautifully exhibited the Christian character in the different relations of 
 life and in her early death. The reader will be pleased with the spirit and sentiments 
 of her early correspondence introduced and scattered throughout the volume. It is 
 calculated to be useful and edifying, and we freely recommend it to our readers. It 
 is published in a beautiful style. 
 
 From the Christian Watchman. 
 
 The interesting subject of this memoir was born at East Haddam, Conn., Janua- 
 ry 18, 1809, and died August 2, 1836. Books of this description are sure to obtain 
 readers, and therefore we sincerely wish they always combined as much solid in- 
 struction with affecting and interesting narrative, as we find in this volume. " He 
 that winneth souls is wise." Every endeavor, therefore, to secure so important an 
 object, which is not at variance with the principles and the spirit of revelation, is 
 wise also. As the author fervently prays, so we sincerely hope this work " may 
 subserve the interests of our holy religion, and be the means of leading many to the 
 fountain of eternal life." 
 
 It is a lamentable fact, but one we suppose no one will venture to deny, that there 
 are persons who, though they cannot be prevailed upon to read a few pages of a 
 book of this kind, would need no persuasion to sit down and peruse any of Bul- 
 wer's novels, from the preface to the finis, without suffering their attention to be 
 interrupted. A person can hardly read this volume without feeling that, for the 
 time at least, he is a wiser and a better man. The author has produced a book 
 alike creditable to the powers of his mind and to the devotional feelings of his 
 heart; and which, in our opinion, justly entitles him to the thanks of the religious 
 public, among whom we sincerely hope it will obtain an extensive circulation and 
 an attentive perusal. 
 
 From the New York Evangelist. 
 
 In the memoir of Mrs. Taylor, the reader will see chiefly Cv an illustration of the 
 work of the Holy Spirit in awakening, renewing, and sanctifying the heart." He 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 will see an humble female, born in Connecticut, and reared under the genial influ- 
 ence of that blessed atmosphere so prevalent in the land of the Pilgrims, becoming 
 first a teacher of youth in her native state, then in New York city. With a mind 
 well cultivated and of a respectable order of talent, with a heart formed for friend- 
 ship, and keenly alive to the purest and tendered sensibilities ; she was such a one 
 as almost any one would wish their daughters to be. Her piety was of a high order 
 even from the first, and no wonder; she had been an object of the prayers and ex- 
 hortations of Harlan Page. The closing scenes exhibit, in no small degree, the tri- 
 umphs of Christian faith. The biographer has done his work well, interweaving, 
 page by page, in an easy, natural manner, delightful lessons from real life. 
 
 The book is a beautiful specimen of the printer's art, and shows also, in the por- 
 trait prefixed and the vignette title-page, the engraver's skill. The book will be read, 
 and seldom, we hope, without profit. 
 
 From the Christian Advocate and Journal. 
 
 This memoir is an illustration of the work of the Holy Spirit, in awakening, re- 
 newing and sanctifying the heart. Mrs. Taylor was in many respects an extraor- 
 dinary woman ; and her biographer has performed his task in a style of great excel- 
 lence. The narrative of her conviction and contrition, which is here given, is deeply 
 affecting and instructive, by reason of its protracted character, as well as the circum- 
 stances which kept her so long without the ''joy in believing," which she after- 
 wards found to have been her privilege. That her's was the true " godly sorrow 
 which worketh repentance unto salvation," no one can doubt; and yet she was for 
 many years, the subject of its anguish and mental agony, before she received the 
 "spirit of adoption," or had the ''witnesses in herself" of which the apostle speaks. 
 Subsequently, her enlightened piety, her growth in grace, and her experience of the 
 fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of peace, made her a " burning and a shining 
 light." In these days of degeneracy, her memoir is a most timely publication, 
 showing, as it does, an eminent example of Christian experience and practice, un- 
 sophisticated by any of the dogmas of scholastic divinity. 
 
 Mrs. Taylor was an humble, sincere, fervent, and consistent Christian, in sickness 
 'and in health, living and dying, exemplifying the truth, power, and preciousness of 
 our holy religion. Intellectually, she was a woman of high order; and her early 
 and devoted piety, her patience and resignation in affliction, her victory over death, 
 all demonstrate that she was a witness of the washing and regeneration, and the 
 renewal of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Would that our young ladies would read her memoir, imbibe her spiritj share her 
 enjoyments, and participate in her blessedness here and hereafter. 
 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 THEOPNEUSTY, or the Plenary Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures, by S. 
 R. L. Gaussen, Professor of Theology in the new Theological School of 
 Geneva, Switzerland. Third American, from the second French edition, 
 
 revised and enlarged by the author. Translated by the Rev. Edward 
 
 Norris Kirk, 1 vol. 12mo., $0 75 
 
 AIDS TO PREACHING AND HEARING, by Rev. Thos. H. Skinner, 
 
 D. D., 1 vol. 12mo. - - - - - - . - - - - 1 00 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE LATE REV. WM. NEVINS, D. D., 1 vol. 12mo., 75 
 LECTURES ON UNIVERSALISM, by Rev. Joel Parker, D. D., President 
 
 of the New York Theological Seminary, 12mo., - 75 
 
 JACOB WRESTLING WITH THE ANGEL, and SOLOMON THE 
 
 SHULAMITE, by Krummacher, author of Elijah the Tishbite, 1 vol. 
 
 12mo., 75 
 
 CORNELIUS THE CENTURIAN, by Krummacher, l*vol. 12mo., - 75 
 SERMONS ON REVIVALS, by Rev. Albert Barnes, with an Introduction 
 
 by Rev. Joel Parker, D. D., 1 vol. iSmo., 38 
 
 A VOICE FROM ANTIQUITY, to the Men of the Nineteenth Century; 
 
 or, Read the Book. By J. H. Merle D'Aubigne, author of the " History 
 
 of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century," 1 vol ISmo., - - 25 
 THE VOICE OF THE CHURCH ONE, Under all the Successive Forms 
 
 of Christianity; by J. H. Merle D'Aubigne, D. D., 1 vol. 18mo., - - 25 
 PUSEYISM EXAMINED, by J. H Merle D'Aubigne, D. D ; with an In- 
 troductory Notice of the Author, by Robert Baird, 1 vol. ISmo. 25 
 THE CONFESSION OF CHRIST, by J. H. Merle A'Aubigne, D. D., 1 
 
 vol. 18mo., - - - -.'- - - - - - - - 25 
 
 FAITH AND KNOWLEDGE, by J. A. Merle D'Aubigne, D. D., 1 vol. 
 
 18mo., - .v y 1 *...' 25 
 
 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS, and other Fragments, from 
 the Study of a Pastor, by Gardiner Spring, Pastor of the Brick Presby- 
 terian Church in the City of New York, 1 vol. 12mo., .... 56 
 
 THE BACKSLIDER, by Andrew Fuller, with an Introduction by John 
 
 Angell James, ISmo., - - - - - 31 
 
 SERMONS, by Hugh Blair, D. D., to which is prefixed the Life and Char- 
 acter of the Authoi, by James Finlayson, D. D., 1 vol. 8vo. - - - 2 00 
 
 OBLIGATIONS OF THE WORLD TO THE BIBLE, by Gardiner 
 
 Spring, D. D.. 1 vol. 12mo., - - - > - v - - - - - 1 00 
 
 A VISIT TO NORTHERN EUROPE, or Sketches, Descriptive, Histori- 
 cal, Political, and Moral, of Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland, 
 and the Free cities of Hamburg and Lubeck ; containing notices of the 
 Manners and Customs, Commerce, Manufactures, Arts, and Sciences, 
 Education, Literature, and Religion of those Countries and Cities. By 
 the Rev. Robert Baird, with Maps and numerous Engravings, 2 vols. 
 12mo.. - - - vl- - - - . . .... . . 2 00 
 
 HEROINES OF SACRED HISTORY, by Mrs. Steel, 1vol. 18mo., - 50 
 
 A SUMMER JOURNEY IN THE WEST, by Mrs Steel, author of" He- 
 roines of Sacred History," 1 vol. 12mo M - - - - - 50 
 
 EMANUEL ON THE CROSS, AND IN THE GARDEN, by R. P. Bud- 
 
 dicom, 1 vol. 12mo. - - - -- - - - . - - 63 
 
 THE FAMILY OF BETHANY, by L. Bonnot: with an Introductory Es- 
 say, by the Rev. Hugh White, 1 vol. 18mo., 38 
 
 THE ADOPTED CHILD, or the necessity of Early Piety, by the author 
 
 of "Emma, or the Lost Found," 1 vol. ISmo., * . . . 31 
 
 THE STORY OF GRACE, the Little Sufferer, 1 vol. 18mo., 31 
 
 ADOLPHUS AND JAMES, by the Rev. Napoleon Roussel, translated from 
 
 the French, I vol. ISmo., --------- 31 
 
 THE LILY OF THE VALLEY, by Mrs. Sherwood, .... 31 
 SHANTY, THE BLACKSMITH, by Mrs. Sherwood, - - - - 50 
 
CATALOGUE OF BOOKS. 
 
 THE TRAVELLER, or the Wonders of Art, 1 vol. 18mo. ... 33 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE TELLSTORM,the first Swedish Missionary to Lap- 
 land, with an Appendix giving an account of the Stockholm Mission, 
 by the Rev. George Scott, I vol. 18mo., ------ 31 
 
 FLOWER FADED, by the Rev. John Angell James, 1 vol. ISmo., - - 38 
 MEMOIR OF MARTHA, by John Angell James, 1 vol. 18mo., - - 31 
 MEMOIR OF CHARLES LATHROP WINSLOW, 1 vol. 18mo., 
 CLOSING SCENES OF THE LIFE OF SAMUEL WISDOM, illus- 
 trating the usefulness of Tract Distribution, and Sabbath School In- 
 struction, 1 vol. 18mo., - .....-.-. 25 
 
 THE SABBATH SCHOOL TEACHER'S PATTERN, AND A WORD 
 
 FOR ALL, by John Angell James, - >- 25 
 
 COUNSELS TO THE YOUNG, by Rev. A. Alexander. D. D., - - 25 
 
 SELF CULTIVATION, by Tryon Edwards, 25 
 
 EARLY PIETY, by Rev. Jacob Abbott, - 25 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN POCKET COMPANION, selected from the works of 
 
 President Edwards and otheis, - 25 
 
 The above four vols. 32mo., in gilt edges, at 31 cts. each, 
 HISTORY OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDS, by the Rev. Shelden Dib- 
 ble, Missionary to those Islands, 1 vol. 12mo., 75 
 
 GENEVA AND ROME, by S. R. L. Gaussen, 1 vol. 18mo., ... 25 
 REFLECTIONS ON FL O WE RS, by Rev. James He rvey, author of "Medi- 
 tations Among the Tombs," 1 vol. 18mo., ..---- 31 
 TRANSPLANTED FLOWERS, or Memoirs of Mrs. Rumff, and the 
 Duchesse de Broglie, with an appendix, by the Rev. Robert Baird, 1 
 
 vol. 18mo., - - - - 38 
 
 HINTS FOR MOTHERS, by a Lady, 1 vol. 18mo., 31 
 
 A TALE OF THE HUGUENOTS, or Memoirs of a French Refugee Fam- 
 ily ; translated from the Manuscripts of James Fontaine, by a Lady 
 with an introduction, by Francis L. Hawkes, D. D., 1 vol. 18mo., - 50 
 
 ROCKY ISLAND, and other Parables, by Samuel Wilberforce, M. A., 1 vol. 
 
 ISmo., 38 
 
 THE LITTLE WANDERERS, by Sam'l Wilberforce, M. A., 1 vol. ISmo. 25 
 THE KING AND HIS SERVANTS, by Samuel Wilberforce, M. A., 1 
 
 vol. 18mo., - ' - ~ * . 25 
 
 THE PROPHET'S GUARD, by Samuel Wilberforce, M. A., 1 vol. 18mo, 25 
 
 ADVICE TO A YOUNG CHRISTIAN, by a village Pastor, with an In- 
 troduction, by Rev. Dr. Alexander (new edition), 1 vol. 18mo., - - 38 
 THE WAY OF SAFETY, by the Rev. L. E. Lathrop, D. D., 1 vol. 18mo., 38 
 BIOGRAPHY OF THE SAVIOUR AND HIS APOSTLES, with Por- 
 traits done on Steel, 1 vol. 18mo., 50 
 POETRY FOR THE YOUNG, in two parts, Moral and Miscellaneous, 1 
 
 vol. 18mo., 38 
 
 THE WORLD'S RELIGION, as contrasted with genuine Christianity, by 
 
 Lady Colquhoun, 1 vol. 18mo., 50 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN CITIZEN, by the Rev. A. D. Eddy, of Newark, 1 vol. 
 
 12mo., 50 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF ASTRONOMY, designed as an Introduction to the 
 
 Study, 1 vol. 18mo., 25 
 
 MURRAY'S INTRODUCTION TO THE ENGLISH READER, I2mo., 
 
 large type, - 25 
 
 MURRAY'S ENGLISH READER, 12mo., large type, - - - .- 50 
 MURRAY'S SEQUEL TO THE ENGLISH READER, 12mo., large type, 63 
 THE SHORTER CATECHISM of the Reverend Assembly of Divines, 
 with proofs thereof out of the Scriptures, in words at length, 18mo., $5 
 per 100. 
 
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