vV.wfc «# YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY From the Estate of Leonard M. Daggett tump ' ¦ ¦ _^ £/avft?a saif/u AbiaJiam 'and Zol du'Ldt/h? their flodts . SACRED BIOGRAPHY; THE HISTORY THE PATRIARCHS. TO WHICH IS ADDED, THE HISTORY OF DEBORAH, RUTH, AND HANNAH, AND ALSO THE HISTORY OF JESUS CHRIST. BEING A COURSE OF LECTURES DELIVERED AT THE SCOTCH CHURCH, LONDON-WALL, BY HENRY HUNTER, D. D. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. Jesus said unto them, verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham was, I am.— John viii. 58. am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.— Revelation i. 8. PHILADELPHIA: J. J. WOODWARD, No. 7 MINOR STREET. STEREOTYPED BY L. JOHNSON. 1836. ( 3 ) CONTENTS. Lect. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22.23.24. 25. 26. 27. Page Introductory Lecture. Rom. xv. 4 5 History of Adam. Gen. v. 5 8 Adam and Christ compared. 1 Cor. xv. 45. .13 History of Cain and Abel. Heb. xi. 4 — -. .17 History of Cain. 1 John iii. 11, 12 20 History of Enoch. Gen. v. 24 24 History of Noah. Gen. v. 28, 29 28 History of Noah. Gen. vii. 1. .. . 32 Noah and Christ compared. Isaiah liv. 7—10..... 36 History of Abram. Gen. xii. 1 41 History of Abram. Gen. xiii. 8 45 History of Melchizedec. Gen. xiv. 18. Psalmcx.4. Heb. vi.20 49 History of Abram. Gen. xv. 17, 18 55 History of Abram. Isaiah xxviii. 16 59 History of Abraham. Heb. xiii. 2 63 History of Abraham. James ii. 23 ..67 History of Abraham. Heb. xi. 17 — 19 71 History of Abraham. Heb. xi. 13—16 75 Introductory Lecture. Zech. i. 5, 6 79 History of Isaac. Gen. xxv. 11 83 History of Isaac. Gen. xxvi. 23 — 25 87 History of Isaac. Gen. xxvii. 1—5 92 History of Jacob. Gen. xxv. 27—34 96 History of Jacob. Gen. xxviii. 5. 10 100 History of Jacob. Gen. xxix. 20 104 History of Jacob. Gen. xxx. 25—30 107 History of Jacob. Gen. xxxii. 9 — 11 112 History of Jacob. Gen. xiii. 36—38 116 History-of Jacob and Joseph. Gen. xxxvii. 3,4* 121 History of Joseph. Gen. xxxix. 2 — 6 125 History of Joseph. Gen. xii. 38—44 130 History of Joseph. Gen. xiv. 3 — 5 135 History of Jacob and Joseph. Gen. xiv. 24—28 140 History of Jacob and Joseph. Gen. xlix. 1.33 145 History of Joseph. Gen. 1. 24—26 149 History of Moses. Exod. ii. 1—10 154 Introductory Lecture. Luke xx. 27—38. .158 38. History of Moses. Heb. xi. 24—27 164 39. History of Moses. Exod. iii. 13, 14 168 40. History of Moses. Exod. vi. 9 172 41. History of Moses. Exod. vi. 1 ' 177 42. History of Moses. Exod. x. 7 181 43. History of Moses. Exod. xii. 1—3 185 44. History of Moses. Exod. xii. 26,27. Psalm xci. 5— 8..... 190 45. History of Moses. Exod. xiii. 17—22 194 46. History of Moses. Exod. xiv. 21,22 199 47. History of Moses. Exod. xv. 1, 2 204 48. History of Moses. Exod. xv. 23—27 209 49. History of Moses. Exod. xvi. 11—15 213 50. History of Moses. Exod. xvii. 1, 2. 5,6.. .218 Lect. 51. 52.53.54.55.50. 57.58.59. GO.61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 84. 85. 86. 87. 87. 89.90.91. 101. 102.103. 104. Pace History of Moses. Exod. xvii. 8—13 223 History of Moses. Exod. xviii. 7— 12 — 227 History of Moses. Exod. xix. 16—22 232 History of Moses. Josh. i. 17. John i. 17. -237 Introductory Lecture. 2 Tim. i. 8—10. . . .243 History of Moses. Exod. xxiv. 15—18 — 248 History of Moses. Exod. xxxii. 1—4 253 History of Moses. Exod. xxxiii. 8—11 — 258 History of Moses. Exod. xxxiii. 18 203 History of Moses. Exod. xxxiv. 29, 30.. .268 History of Moses. Exod. xxxix. 42, 43.. .271 History of Moses. Exod. xl. 17. 34—38. . . .276 History pf Aaron. Numb. xx. 23— 29. . . .282 History of Aaron. Numb. xx. 23—29. . . .286 History of Aaron. Numb. xx. 23— 29. .. -291 History of Aaron. Numb. xx. 23— 29. . . .295 „ History of Balaam. 2 Peter ii. 15, 16 300 History of Balaam. Numb. xxii. 21 305 History of Balaam. 2 Peter ii. 15, 16 310 History of Balaam. Numb, xxiii. 10 315 History of Balaam. Rev. ii. 14 319 Introductory Lecture. Rev. xx. 11—13. .324 History of Moses. Numb. xxi. 4—9 329 History of Moses. Numb, xxvii. ]2 — 14. .334 History of Moses. Numb. xxxi. 1,2 338 History of Moses. Numb. xxxv. 9—15 341 History of Moses. Deut. i. 3 .....345 History of Moses. Deut. xxxi. 1 — 3 348 History of Moses. Deut. xxxi. 7, 8 353 History of Moses. Deut. xxxiii. 1 357 History of Moses. Deut. xxxiii. 1 363 History of Moses. Deut. xxxiv. 1—6 368 History of Moses. Deut. xxxiv. 10— 1^ . . .372 History of Moses. Deut. xviii. 15—18. Acts iii. 22 378 History of Moses. Luke ix. 28—35 382 Introductory Lecture. Gen. ii. 18 386 Histoiy of Deborah. Judges iv. 4, 5 392 History of Deborah. Judges iv. 21—23 396 History of Deborah. Judges v. 1—5 399 History of Deborah. Judges v. 13,13 403 History of Deborah. Judges v. 20, 21 407 History of Ruth. Ruth i. 1—5 411 History of Ruth. Ruthi. 14—18 415 History of Ruth. Ruth i. 19—22 420 History of Ruth. Ruthii.l— 3 423 History of Ruth. Ruth ii. 4 427 History of Ruth. Ruth ii. 5—17 431 History of Ruth. Ruth ii. 19—23; iii. 1.. ..436 History of Ruth. Ruth iv. 13—17 440 History of Hannah, the mother of Samuel. 1 Samuel i. 1— 8 444 History of Hannah. 1 Samuel i. 9—18 448 f History of Hannah. 1 Samuel i. 19—23. . .451"' History of Hannah. 1 Samuel i. 24—28. . . -, r History of Hannah. 1 Samuel ii. 1 — 10. . i_ ' ,imt he CONTENTS. * Page Lect. 105. History of Hannah. 1 Sam. 11. 18—21.. .464 106. History of Hannah. 1 Sam. ii. 12—17. 23,24 467 107. History of Hannah. lSamuelii.26 471 108. History of Jesus Christ. John i. 1—14. .476 109. History of Jesus Christ. Isaiah liii. a. .481 110. History of Jesus Christ. Haggai ii. 6— 9. .484 111. History of Jesus Christ. Luke i. 11—20. .488 112. History of Jesus Christ. Luke i. 26—33.. .492 113. History of Jesus Christ. Luke ii. 1—14.. .496 114. History of Jesus Christ. Luke ii. 40 500 115. History of Jesus Christ. Luke ii. 41—52. .503 116. History of Jesus Christ. Lukeiii.21— 23. .507 117. History of Jesus Christ. Matthew iv. 1—11 512 118. History of Jesus Christ. Luke iv. 13— 32. .517 119. Histoiy of JesusChrist. Luke iv. 16— 22. .522 Page Lect. 120. History of JesusChrist. Luke iv. 20— 32. .528 121. History of Jesus Christ. Matthew iv. 12—22 533 122. History of Jesus Christ.— Before the ad ministration of the Lord's Supper.— Lukex. 17— 22 539 123. History of JesusChrist. Johnii. 1—11. .546 124. History of JesusChrist. Lukeiv.38— 44. .553 125. History of Jesus Christ. John ii. 13—17. .558 126. History of Jesus Christ. John ii. 18—25. .564 127. History of Jesus Christ and the Resurrec tion. — After administering the Lord's Supper.— 1 Corinthians xv. 35— 44 570 128. History of JesusChrist. John iv. 46— 54. .576 129. History of JesusChrist. Matthew viii. 5—12. Luke vii. 1—10 582 130. History of Jesus Christ. John vi. 1—14 . .589 SACRED BIOGRAPHY. LECTURE I. For whatsoever things were written aforetime, were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope. — Romans xv. 4 Various methods have been employed, at different periods and hy different persons, to convey useful knowledge to mankind. The knowledge most useful and most important to man, is that of morals and religion. These sciences not only afford the most pleasant and elevating subjects of meditation, but evident ly possess a very powerful influence over hu man happiness, both in the life which now is, and in that which is to come. The principles of morality and religion have, by some, been delivered in short, plain, and significant sentences; and have been left to produce their effect, by their own weight and evidence. Public teachers have, at other times, taken pains to explain and enforce these principles; have demonstrated their reasonableness and utility; and have exhi bited -the criminality, the danger, and the misery, of neglecting or transgressing them. The charms and graces of poetry have been employed to set off the native, modest beau ties of truth and virtue, and allegory has spread her veil over them, in order to stimu late our ardour in the pursuit, and to height en our pleasure in the discovery. The pene tration of genius, the enchantment of elo quence, and the creative energy of fancy, have successively lent their aid to those gen tle guides of human life, those condescending ministers to human comfort. The historic page, that faithful and true witness, has been unfolded. Ages and gene rations elapsed and gone, have been made to pass in review; and the lessons of religion and virtue have been forcibly inculcated, by a fair and impartial disclosure of the effects, which the observance or neglect of them have produced on the affairs of men. And the pencil of history has enriched the can vas, not only with men in groups, but select ing distinguished individuals, delineating them in their just proportions, and enliven ing them with the colours of nature, has ex hibited a collection of striking portraits, for our entertainment and instruction. In con templating these, we seem to expatiate in a vast gallery of family pictures, and take de light in observing and comparing the various features ofthe extensive kindred, as they re semble or differ from each other ; and through the physiognomy piercing into the heart, we find them, though dead, yet speaking and pleasing companions. The holy scriptures possess an acknow ledged superiority over all other .writings, in all the different kinds of literary composition ; and in none more than in that species of his torical composition which is called Biogra phy, or a delineation of the fortunes, charac ter, and conduct of particular persons : and that, whether the historians be themselves the men whom they describe and record; or whether, from proper sources of information, they record the lives and actions of Others. These Lectures, undertaken at your re quest, and humbly submitted to your candid and patient attention; and, permit me to add, intended for your religious instruction and improvement, will, through the help of God, present, you with a course pf Sacred Bio graphy, that is, the more particular and de tached history of the lives of those eminent and distinguished personages whom Provi dence raised up, and whom the. Holy Spirit has in the scriptures of truth represented, either as patterns for us to imitate, or as ob jects of disesteem and aversion. We shall endeavour to compare together those which possess more obvious and striking marks of resemblance or of dissimilitude; and they shall be brought, one after another, into com parison with that pure and perfect example of all excellence, which was exhibited by Him, who is '" holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." Happy will your Lecturer esteem himself, if he shall in any measure attain what he 1* 5 6 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. [lect. I. ardently desires, the power of blending profit with delight, for your use : the power with which the lively oracles of God furnish him, that of rendering the errors and the vices, as well as the wisdom and the virtue of others, beneficial unto you. In order to justify the design, for we pre sume not to answer for the execution, we shall endeavour to show the propriety and usefulness of this mode of instruction in general, and the peculiar advantages which the sacred writers enjoy, in thus communi cating useful knowledge ; and which we of course possess, in the diligent and attentive perusal of their writings: and this shall serve as an Introductory Lecture to the Course. We begin with attempting to show the propriety and usefulness of conveying in struction by means of the historical repre sentation of the character and conduct of individuals, as opposed to the object of gene ral history. Now the professed purpose of all history is, without fear or favour, without partiality or prejudice, to represent men and things as they really are — that goodness may receive its just tribute of praise, and vice meet its deserved censure and condemnation. It is evident, that this end is most easily and most certainly attained, when our attention is confined to one particular object, or to a few at most. This may be judged of by the feelings and operations of the mind, in the contemplation of other objects. ,When, from the summit of some lofty mountain, we survey the wide extended landscape ; though highly delighted, we feel ourselves bewildered, and overwhelmed, by the profusion and variety of beauties which nature spreads around us. But when we enter into the detail of- nature : when we attend the footsteps of a friend through some favoured, beautiful spot, which the eye and the mind can take in at once ; feeling our selves at ease, with undivided, undistracted attention we contemplate the whole; we examine and arrange the parts ; the imagi- " nation is indeed less expanded, but the heart is more gratified ; our pleasure is less vio lent and tumultuous, but it is more intense, more complete, and continues much longer ; what is lost in respect of sublimity, is gained in perspicuity, force, and duration. Take another instance : — The starry hea vens present a prospect equally agreeable to every eye. The delights of a calm, serene evening, are as much relished by the simple and unlettered, as by the philosopher. But who will compare the vague admiration of the child or the clown with the scientific joy of the astronomer, who can reduce into or der, what to the untutored eye is involved in confusion ; who can trace the path of each little star : and, from their past appearances, can calculate, to an instant of time, their future oppositions and conjunctions'? Once more: — It is highly gratifying to find ourselves in the midst of a public, as sembly of agreeable people of both sexes, and to partake of the general cheerfulness and benevolence. But what are the cheer fulness and benevolence of a public assem bly, compared to the endearments of friend ship, and the meltings of love 1 To enjoy these, we must retire from the crowd, and have recourse to the individual. In like manner, whatever satisfaction and improve ment may be derived from general histories of mankind, which we would not be thought by any means to depreciate ; yet the history of particular persons, if executed with fide lity and skill, while it exercises the judg ment less severely, so it fixes down the at tention more closely, and makes its way more directly and more forcibly to the heart. To those who are acquainted with this kind of writing, much need not be said, to evince the superior excellency of the sacred penmen. Biographers merely human, ne cessarily lie under many disadvantages, and are liable to many mistakes. The lapse of time is incessantly thickening the veil which is spread over remote persons and events. The materials of history lie buried, con founded, dispersed, among the ruins of anti quity; and cannot be easily distinguished and separated, even by the eye of discern ment, and the hand of honesty, from the rubbish of fiction. And as they are not al ways furnished by truth and nature, so nei ther are they always selected with judg ment, nor employed with taste and discre tion. Men, whs only see the outside, must of necessity infer the principles of human ac tions from the actions themselves. And yet no rule of judgment is more erroneous : for experience assures us, that many, perhaps the greater part of our actions, are not the re sult of design, and are not founded on prin ciple, but are produced by the concourse of incidents which we could not foresee, and proceed from passions kindled at the mo ment. Besides, every man sits down to write, whether of ages past or of the present, of characters near or remote, with a bias upon his mind, and this he naturally endeavours to communicate to his reader. All men have their favourite periods, causes, characters; which, of course, they strive, at any »ate, to embellish, to support, to recommend. They are equally subject to antipathies on the other hand, under the influence of which, they as naturally strive to depress, to expose, and to censure what they dislike. And as men write and speak, so they read and hear, under the influence of prejudice and pas sion. Where the historian's opinions coin- LECT. I.] INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. cide with our own, 'we cheerfully allow him to be in the right ; when they differ, without hesitation we .pronounce him to be mis taken. Most of the writers of profane ancient history are chargeable with an absurdity, "which greatly discredits the facts they relate, and reduces their works almost to the level of fable. They attempt too much; they must needs account for every thing ; they conjecture when light fails them; and be cause it is probable or certain that eminent men employed eloquence on important pub lic occasions, their historians at the distance of many centuries, without record, or writ ten document of any kind whatever, have, from the ample store ofa fertile imagination, furnished posterity with the elaborate ha rangues of generals, statesmen, and kings. These, it is acknowledged, are among the most ingenious, beautiful, and interesting of the traces of antiquity which they have transmitted to us : what man of taste could bear to think of stripping these elegant per formances of one of their chief excellencies'! But truth is always injured, by every the slightest connexion with fable. The mo ment I begin to read one of the animated speeches of a hero or a senator, which were never composed, delivered, or written, till the historian arose, I feel myself instantly transported from the real theatre of human life, into a fairy region; I am agreeably amused, nay, delighted ; but the sacred im- . press of truth is rendered fainter and feebler to my mind ; and when I lay down the book, it is not the fire and address of the speaker, but the skill and ingenuity of the writer that I admire. Modem history, more cor rect and faithful than ancient, has fallen, however, into an absurdity not much less censurable. I mean that fanciful delinea tion of character, with which the account of certain periods, and the, lives of distin guished personages, commonly conclude; in which we often find a bold hypothesis hazarded for the sake of a point; and a strong feature added to, or taken away from a character, merely to help the author to round his period. Finally, a great part of profane history is altogether uninteresting to the. bulk of man kind. The events recorded are removed to a vast distance, and have entirely spent their force. The actors exhibited are either too lofty to admit of our approach', with any in terest or satisfaction to ourselves; too bru tal to be considered without disgust, or too low to be worthy of our regard. The very scenes of action are become inaccessible or unknown; are altered, obliterated, or disre garded. Where Alexander conquered, and how Caesar fell, are to us mere nothings. But on opening the sacred volume, all these obstructions in the way of knowledge, of truth, of pleasure, and of improvement, instantly disappear. Length of duration can oppose no cloud to that intelligence, with which "a thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousand years." The human heart is there unfolded to our view, by Him " who knows what is in man," and " whose eyes are in every place, beholding the evil and the good." The men and the events therein represented are universally and perpetually interesting, for they are blended with " the things which accompany salvation," and affect our everlasting peace. There, the writers, whether they speak of themselves or of other men, are continually under the direction ofthe Spirit of all truth and wisdom. These venerable men, though subject to like passions with others, there speak not of themselves, but from God; "for the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man ; but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."* And "afl. scripture is given by inspiration of God, and iB profitable for doctrine, for re proof, for correction, for instruction in right eousness; that the man of God may be per fect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works."f Having premised these things, we will proceed next Lord's day, if God permit, to the execution of our plan ; and shall begin, as the order both of nature and of scripture prescribe, with the history of Adam, the venerable father and founder of the human race. Men, brethren, and fathers, we are about to study the lives of other men ; but it con cerns us much more to look well to our own. Our forefathers were ; we are. The curtain has dropped, and has hid ages and genera tions past from our eyes. Our little scene is going on; and must likewise speedily close. We are not, indeed, perhaps, fur nishing materials for history. When we die, obscurity will probably spread the veil of oblivion over us. But let it be ever re membered by all, that every man's life is of importance to himself, to his family, to his friends, to his country, and in the sight of God. They are by no means the best men, who have made most noise in the world; neither are those actions most deserving of praise, which have obtained the greatest share of fame. Scenes of violence and blood ; the workings of ambition, pride, and revenge, compose the annals of men. But piety and purity, temperance and humility, which.are little noticed and soon forgotten of the world, are held in everlasting remembrance before God. And happy had it been for many of those, whose names and deeds have been transmitted to us- with renown, if they had ' never been born. One corruption subdued, is a victory infi- * 2 Peter i. 21. f 2 Timothy iii. 16, 17. 8 HISTORY OF ADAM. [lect. n. nitely more desirable, and more truly ho nourable, than a triumph gamed amidst the confused noise of ten thousand warriors, and as many garments rolled in blood ; for " he that is sl*w to anger is better than the mighty; and. he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city."* Remember, my friends, that to be a child of God is far more honourable than to be descended from kings; and that a christian is a much higher cha racter than a hero. And let this considera tion influence all that you undertake, all that you do. Act as if the eyes of Cato were always upon you, was the precept given, and the motive urged, to the Roman youth, in order to excel in virtue. The eyes of God are in truth continually upon you. Live then as in his sight; and knowing that every action as it is performed, every word as it is spoken, and every thought as it arises, is re corded in the book of God's remembrance, and must come into judgment, "keep thy heart with all diligence," set a watch on the door of thy lips, " and whether you eat or * Prov. xvi. 32. drink, or whatsoever you do, do all to the glory of God." We are about to review ages past, and to converse with men long since dead. And the period is fast approaching, when time itself shall be swallowed up ; when Adam and his youngest son shall- be contempora ries, when the mystery of providence shall be cleared up, the mystery of grace finished, and the ways of God fully vindicated to men. In the humble and solemn expecta tion of that great event, knowing and be lieving the scriptures, and the power of God, let us study to live a life of faith and holi ness upon the Son of God ; " redeeming the lime, because the days are evil," and work ing out our own salvation with fear and trembling." And may the God of our fa thers be our God and the God of our off spring, and conduct us through the danger ous and difficult paths of human life, and through the valley of the shadow of death, to his own " presence, where there is fui-' ness of joy, and to his right hand, where there are pleasures for evermore." Amen. HISTORY OF ADAM. LECTURE II. And all the days that Adani lived, were nine hundred and thirty years, and he died. — Genesis v. 5 If to trace the origin of particular nations ; if to mark, and to account for, the rise and progress of empire, the revolutions of states, the discovery of new worlds, be an interest ing, pleasant, and useful exercise of the hu man mind; how amusing, interesting, and instructive must it be, to trace human na ture itself up to its source ! Placed beneath the throne of God, it is 'pleasing to observe how the heavens and the earth took their beginning; and by what means this globe was at first peopled, and continues to be filled with men. If there be a natural, and not illaudable propensity, in individuals, to dive into the pedigree of their families; and in nations, to fix that of their princes, he roes and legislators ; is it possible to want curiosity, or to miss entertainment, when the history of th? venerable Father of all Men is presented to our attention — that of Adam, to whom we feel ourselves closely allied by condition and by blood, however unconnected we may seem to be with most of the collateral branches of the family: of whose nature we all partake; by whose con duct, we are all affected, and in the conse quences of whose actions we are all to this day involved 1 In pursuing this important inquiry, we have God himself for our guide, and we plunge into the dark regions ofthe remotest antiquity, lighted by that gracious Spirit, to whom all nature stands confessed, and with whom the whole extent of time is a single point, an unchanging now. God having framed and fitted up this vast fabric, this magnificent palace, the earth, worthy ofthe inhabitant whom he designed to occupy it, and worthy of himself; having formed, arranged, and fructified the vari ous and innumerable vegetable and animal tribes; having created, suspended, and ba lanced the greater and the lesser lights, and settled the economy of the whole host of heaven; at length, with all the solemnity and majesty of Deity, as with the maturity of deliberation, as with a peculiar effort of divine power and skill, he designs and pro duces Adam, the first of men. When the earth is to be fashioned, and the ocean to be poured into its appointed bed; when the firmament is to be expanded, and suns to be LECT. U.] HISTORY 'OF ADAM. 0 lighted up, God says, Let them be, and they are created. But when man is to be made, the creating Power seems to make a so lemn pause, retires within himself, looks for a model by which to frame this exquisite piece of workmanship, and finds it in him self. " And God said, let us make man in our image, after our likeness ; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creep ing thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him, male and fe male created he them."* Thus then was brought into existence, the father and founder ofthe human race. And O, how fair must that form have been, which the fingers of God framed, without the in tervention of a second cause 1 How capa cious that soul which the breath of God im mediately inspired ! But glorious and perfect as he is, Adam, upon his very first reflection, feels himself a dependent and a limited be ing. No sooner has his eye ascended to God who made him, than it returns to the earth from whence he was taken ; and the very first excursion of reason informs him that he is at the disposal of another, and re strained by a law. He receives a whole globe, over which he is permitted an un limited sovereignty: but one tree is re served, as a token of his subjection. Every plant in paradise offers itself to gratify his sense, every animal does homage at his feet; but the sight of one kind of fruit in the midst of the garden continually remiads him, that he himself is dependent upon, and account able to God ; and while six parts of time are allowed for his own employments and de lights, the seventh is set apart, sacred to his Maker. Behold him then taking possession of his fair inheritance, of his vast empire, in all the majesty of unclouded reason, all the beauty of perfect innocence; possessed of every bodily, of every mental endowment. His numerous vassals of the brute creation present themselves before him ; at one glance he discovers their nature and qualities, and gives them suitable names. But, while he is invested in the property of a world, he re ceives it as a charge for which he is to be responsible : " The Lord God took the man, and put him into the garden of Eden, to keep it ;" and he for whom God and nature had produced all things in a luxuriant abund ance, has nevertheless employment assigned him ; he is placed in the garden to dress it And can 'any of his degenerate sons then dream of independent property ; or reckon want of employment to be an honourable distinction ? | Behold him accepting his charge with sub- J *Cen. i. 26,27. B mission and gratitude; entering on his em ployment with alacrity and joy; surveying his ample portion with complacency and de light. The prosecution of his pleasant task unfolds to him still new wonders of divine power and skill. The flower, and the shrub, and tlie tree, disclose their virtues, uses, and ends, to his observing eye. Every beast of the field spontaneously ministers to his plea sure or his advantage; all the host of heaven stands revealed to his capacious soul; and God himself, tlie great Lord of all, delights in him, and converses with him as a father and a friend. But yet he is alone; and therefore, even in paradise, but half blessed. The exulting heart of man pants for communication of satisfaction, and the rich profusion of Eden is but half relished and enjoyed, because there is no partaker with him. Being cor poreal and earthly, he is unfit for the society of pure spirits; being rational and divine, he is above the society of the most sagacious of the subject tribes. " For Adam," in the wide extended creation, " there was not found an help meet for him." But no sooner is the want felt, than it is supplied. God, who does nothing imperfectly, at length makes the happiness of paradise complete, and fills up the measure of Adam's joy. " And the Lord caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs'; and closed up the flesh instead thereof. And the"- rib which the Lord had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man."* What an important era in the life of Adam ! What a new display of the Creator's power, and skill, and goodness ! Ho w must the spirit of devotion be heightened, now that man could join in social worship ! What additional satisfaction in contemplating the frame, or der, and course of nature, now that he pos sessed the most exalted of human joys, that of oonveying knowledge to a beloved object ! Now that he can instruct Eve in the won ders of creation, and unfold to her their Ma ker's nature, perfections, and will ! What a new flavour have the fruits which grow in the garden of God acquired, now that they are gathered by the hand of conjugal affec tion, and recommended to the taste by the smile of complacency and love ! — Ah ! why were not joys like these permanent as they were pure? Was bliss like this bestowed but to be blasted 1 And must Adam's chief felicity issue in his ruin? We are .reluctantly brought forward to that awful revolution, which at length took place in Adam's condition and character. Of the duration of his mnocence and happiness we have no account. His history now be comes blended with that of the wicked and malignant spirit, who had " left his first es- * Gen. ii. SI, 2S. 10 HISTORY'OF ADAM. [lect. II. tate" of holiness and felicity: and who, hav ing artfully seduced our first parents 'from their innocence, exposed them to the wrath of God, procured their expulsion from para dise, rendered them a prey to fear, shame, and remorse, and subjected them to pain, disease and death. The circumstances of tlie case, according to the scripture account of it, were these. The devil observed the serpent to be an ani mal of peculiar sagacity and penetration, and fixes on him as a fit instrument of seduction. Fearing a repulse from the superior firmness and discernment ofthe man, he watches for, and finds the unhappy moment, when the woman, being separated from her husband, opposed to his wiles inferior powers of rea son and intelligence, with greater softness and pliancy. He addresses himself to a prin ciple in her nature, the immoderate indul gence of which has proved fatal to so many thousands of her daughters, curiosity; curi osity, tlie investigator of truth, the mother of invention; curiosity, the prompter to rash ness, the parent of danger, the guide to ruin. Having first gained her attention, he excites her to doubt and to reason in the face of a positive command ; rouses in her a spirit of pride and ambition ; and at length persuades her to make the fatal experiment. She eats ofthe prohibited tree, and, by transgression, acquires the knowledge of evil, whereas she had hitherto known only good. ¦-' By what arguments Adam was prevailed upon to' become a partner of her guilt, we are not informed. From the apology he made for his conduct, it is to be inferred that female insinuation and address misled him from the law of his God. And thus were both ruined by the operation of principles in them selves good and useful; but carried to excess, unchecked by reason, unawed by religion. Eve perished by a curious and ambitious de sire after a condition for which God and na ture had not designed her, a desire to be " as God, to know good and evil;" Adam fell by •complaisance to his Wife, carried to unmanly weakness and compliance, yielding to his subject, bidding defiance to his sovereign. ; And what words can express, what heart can conceive the bitter change! All his posterity have experienced the melancholy transition from health to sickness, from ease to pain: very many have passed from afflu ence to indigence, from glory to shame, and not a few have exchanged empire itself for banishment or a dungeon. But more than the accumulated weight of all these at once, falls on the devoted head of our guilty first father. The eyes, which before met the ap proach of God with rapture, now are clouded with sorrow, tremble with fear, or strain with remorse and horror, at the voice of the Almighty. That tongue, which was once tuned only to the accent and the language of love, has in a moment learned to reproach and upbraid. The heart which glowed at the promise and the prospect of a fair, numerous, and happy progeny, now sinks in dejection at the dismal apprehension of that guilt and woe, in which his folly had plunged all his hapless children. Where innocence sat en throned, there fell despair broods over her own stinging reflections, and tormenting fears. Above, the awful throne of an offend ed God; beneath, a fathomless gulf, kindled by the breath of Jehovah as a stream of brimstone; within, a troubled conscience, like the raging sea, incapable of taking rest. " The glory is departed : the gold is become dim, and the most fine gold changed." And now too a revolution in outward cir cumstances takes place, corresponding to that which had passed on his internal constitu tion and character. Adam must no longer possess that paradise of which he had ren dered himself unworthy. Justice drives out from Eden the man, who had cast himself out from the favour of God. A wall reaching up to heaven, and immoveable as the decree of the Eternal, prevents the possibility of re turn. The flaming sword of the cherubim bars all access to the tree of life. His labour, formerly his delight, must henceforward be accompanied with pain. The subject tribes throw off their allegiance, and either shun, or threaten their Lord. The elements change their influence, and his fair domain becomes a vast solitude. The sole partner of his for mer joys, now become the cause and the companion of his guilt, becomes also the companion of .his woe. Mutual reflections and reproaches embitter and increase their common misery ; and stern death stares them in the face. But will God contend for ever, will he be always wroth? Then "the spirit should fail before him, and the souls which he had made." Behold a dawn of hope arises, and the promise of the Most High saves from despair. The moment man becomes, and feels himself, a miserable offender, that mo ment is the gospel preached unto him; as the woman was first in the transgression, so fi-om her the prospect of salvation arises; and it is declared that " the old serpent, who is the devil and Satan," who had, in deceiving her, destroyed her posterity, should by one who was peculiarly her posterity, be destroyed and slain. Thus they leave Eden, supported and cheered with the expectation of triumph over their bitter enemy, and of being restored at length to the favour of their offended God. To keep alive this hope, as well as to afford present relief from shame, at this period, it would appear, sacrifice was instituted. The same victim shed its blood, the type of atone ment: and furnished its skin to clothe the naked, thereby presenting the emblem of a perfect righteousness, to cover and shelter LECT. II.] HISTORY OF ADAM. 11 the naked soul. And thus early, distinctly and unequivocally was Christianity taught to mankind. In process of time, however, Adam has the felicity of becoming. a father; and en joys the satisfaction of seeing the blessing pronounced upon him in his better state, notwithstanding his apostacy, taking effect. Eve becomes the joyful mother, perhaps at one birth, of two sons, and tlie earth begins to be replenished. Behold the first parents of mankind exulting in affections unknown, unfelt before; exulting in this fresh proof that God had not forgotten to be gracious. Behold the nuptial tie strengthened and con firmed; the voice of upbraiding and re proach turned to the language of gratula- tion, complacency, and love. Adam observes, with growing delight, his sons increasing in stature and wisdom. Stung with keen reflection upon the happiness which he had vilely thrown away, and the misery which he had entailed upon his hap less children, how would he exert himself to repair that loss ! How forcibly inculcate, by his own fatal example, the obligations of God's holy law ! With what gratitude lead them to the promised atonement! With what heartfelt delight infuse knowledge into their opening minds ! Man is destined to labour from the be ginning; and, for his punishment, guilty man must labour with the sweat of his brow. But all the punishments of Heaven in reality, and in the issue, are blessings. It is the privilege and the happiness of Adam and all his sons to be employed, though to weariness and fatigue. Accordingly the heirs and possessors of the whole globe, as soon as they arrive at man's estate, betake themselves to the humble and necessary oc cupations of that simple state of human na ture. "Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain was a tiller of the ground." But Adam,* we find, has taught his sons to blend religion with their secular employ ments; nay, to make their very employments the monitors and the means of religious worship. " In process of time it ' came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord. And Abel he also brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof; and the Lord had respect to Abel, and to his offering ; but unto Cain and his offering he had not re spect."* And O, how early did the differ ent passions and affections of the human mind discover themselves ! Abel brings with his offering, an humble, pious, and believing spirit. Cain approaches the altar of God with a proud, selfish, murderous heart. And melancholy it is to observe, the first quarrel ; in the world, the first human blood that was shed, were occasioned by religion, which is * Gen. iv. 4, 5. designed >of God to be, and is in itself, the dearest bond of union among men. ' An event now took place in Adam's family by which every former grief must have been renewed and embittered; and to his inex pressible mortification lie finds himself a root of bitterness, of which all his branches must and do partake. Cain, incensed at the prefer ence given to his brother's offering, burning with envy and resentment, watphes his oppor tunity, and finding himself alone with him in the field, puts Abel to death. Thus man becomes the executioner of the dreadful sen tence of the divine law, upon man — brother upon brother. What must have been the emotions of Adam's soul when these sad news were brought him ! To lose a son, a pious, promising son: almost an only one; prematurely, unexpectedly, by the hand of his own brother ! The one dead ! the other worse than dead ; a wretch unworthy to live ! How would his own transgression again stare him in the face ! How would he again accuse himself as the author of his own wretchedness, and the propagator of jvo on wo to his posterity ! The empire of Satan over this miserable world would now seem confirmed ; and the purpose of the divine grace would be apparently defeated. But God yet takes pity on fallen, guilty rnan, being mindful of his promise ; and Seth is given to supply the loss of Abel — Seth, in whose line the promise runs, and of whom as concerning the flesh Christ should come. And thus the divine interpositions always seasonably and suitably meet our necessities and wants. Adam's own forfeited life is prolonged to many generations, and he lives to see his posterity increased to a great multitude, in venting and cultivating the arts which sup port, adorn, or . comfort life. But the time approaches, at last, that he must die. Mercy flew as on the wings of a dove to his relief; justice walks with slow and steady steps to his punishment. By himself sin had entered into the world, and death must inevitably follow, and pass, upon him and upon all men. He had seen the ghastly appearance of death, in the person of his murdered son ; he must now drink the bitter cup for himself; " And the days that Adam lived, were nine hun dred and thirty years, and he died." This is the end of all men, and the living should lay it to his heart. And thus at length decayed the fabric which God him self had reared ; thus " the dust returned to the earth as it was, and the spirit to God who gave it." And thus must conclude the his tory of every life, though protracted to a thousand years, whether adorned with vir tues, or sullied with vice, whether passed with noise on the great theatre, or obscurely spent in the shade. To this complexion the wise and the beautiful, the brave and the 12 HISTORY OF ADAM. [I.ECT. good, as well as the simple and the homely, the. timid and the vicious, must come at last. " Here the rich and the poor meet together ; here the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." The next Lecture, if God permit, will at tempt to exhibit to you, the comparison and contrast of the first and second Adam : in the former of whom all died ; and by the latter, an elect world is made alive, and "raised up together, and made to sit to gether in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." Let us endeavour to improve what has been said ; by learning habitually to acknow ledge, adore, and serve the great Author and preserver of our being, who has lavished so much goodness upon us, who adorned our nature with "his own glorious image, pitied us in our low and lost estate, and has laid help for us on one who is mighty to save : and who, by the exceeding great and pre cious promises of the gospel, is aiming at making us partakers of a divine nature, and delivering us from that bondage of corrup tion, in which we are sunk by reason of sin. Let us learn, secondly, from the sad ex ample of the first transgression, to rest con tented with that state and condition which Providence has assigned us in life ; to use only lawful means for bettering it ; to make the known will of God the only rule of con duct; never to reason and tamper with temptation ; but to repel or flee from it at once : and to shun those as our worst ene mies, who, on any occasion or pretence, would attempt to make us think lightly of the law of God. Let me take occasion, thirdly, from that institution which God designed for the com pletion of human happiness in a state of in nocence, and for the mutual assistance and comfort of the sexes, in their fallen condi tion, to censure and condemn that spirit and practice of celibacy, which is one of the crying vices of our own age and country, and which is equally inimical to religion, to good morals, to public spirit, and human comfort. He who says, or lives as if he thought, that it is "good for man to be alone," gives the lie to his Maker; sins against the constitution of his nature, dis honours his parents ; defrauds another of one of the justest rights of humanity, and in a case too where it is impossible so much as to complain; and exposes himself to commit offences against society which are not to be mentioned in this place. In truth, celibacy is a vile compound of avarice and selfish ness, which would fain pass upon the world for prudence and self-denial ; and the state of our own country at present, in this re spect, looks as if a single state, as in Ro man Catholic countries, were established by a law, but that the laity, not the clergy, were bound by it. But, alas! I am only furnishing matter for a Httle conversation. There must be more virtue, religion, and good sense among the young men of the age, before this crying evil be remedied. Finally, let us take the conclusion of the book of God, and the bright prospect which it discloses to our view, to support and cherish us under the melancholy scene ex hibited to us in the beginning of it. " Ac cording to his promise, we look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness." " And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold I make all things new."* "And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God, and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no more curse ; but the throne of God, and of the Lamb, shall be in it, and his servants shall serve him. And they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads. And there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither light of the sun : for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign for ever."f ¦ " I beheld, and lo, a great multitude which no man could number, of all nations and kindreds, and people and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders, and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces and worshipped God ; saying, Amen : blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanks giving, and honour, and power, and might be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one ofthe elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? And whencfe came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they be fore the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple, and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat ; for the Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters : and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."| Thus the mercy of God, and the blood of the Lamb, remove the guilt, and rectify tha * Rev. xxi. 5. f Rev. xxii. 1—5. J Rev. vii. B— 17. LECT. III.] ADAM AND CHRIST COMPARED. 13 disorders of sin. Thus guilty, fallen man is recovered and restored. Thus the evils re corded in the first pages of the Bible are remedied and done away in that bright reve lation of a world to come, which is opened to us in the close of it. Thus is Adam, and his renewed offspring, conducted from a ter restrial paradise, where the tree of know ledge of good and evil grew up among the trees of life, to the paradise of God, where no mixture of evil intrudes itself, where none but the trees of life find a place. And thus the several parts of divine revelation explain, illustrate, strengthen, and confirm each other ; and the whole taken together, exhibiting throughout one great leading ob ject, carrying on one great design, and accomplishing, at length, the one original purpose of the ETERNAL, is gloriously perfect. ADAM AND CHRIST COMPARED. LECTURE III. And so it is written, the first man Adam was made a living soul, the last Adam was made a quickening spirit — 1 Corinthians xv. 45 The frame of nature, the ways of Provi dence, and the work of redemption, mutu ally illuminate, explain, and support each other. The invisible things of God are clearly understood by the things which are made: the world is evidently upheld and governed by him who made it at first And the suspension of. the laws of nature, and the special interpositions of Divine Provi dence, constitute the proof, that the gospel dispensation is from Him who has the uni verse under his control, to continue or to change its appearance at his pleasure ; who has all hearts in his hand, and consequently, all events at his disposal. When we at tempt to contemplate the providence of God, we immediately find it to be a system infi nitely too vast for human, capacity to take in, too complex for our penetration to unfold, too deep and mysterious for our understand ing to fathom. All that we can do is to con sider the detached parts of this majestic whole, as they present themselves to our senses, or to our reason ; as they are trans mitted to us in the history and experience of others ; or as they are discovered to us by a revelation from heaven. Without the Bible, it were utterly impossible to give a tolerable account, much less one completely satisfactory, of the origin of the world, or ofthe appearances of nature ; of the events which are past and are recorded, or those which are every day presenting themselves to our observation. But when reason vouch safes to kindle her feeble lamp with fire from the altar of God, and to supply it continually with fresh oil from the sacred stores, what was formerly dark becomes clear : what be fore seemed intricate and perplexed', is found to be in perfect order and harmony ; and the dim and scattered fragments become both legible and intelligible. Nay, farther, the different parts of scrip ture itself, taken separately and without connexion, may seem to have less force, beauty, and importance ; but when brought*, j together, like the magnet and the steel, they immediately attract each other and unite ; like the scattered bones in the valley, bone coming together to his bone, there starts up a perfect man, nay, an exceeding great army. Type meeting the thing typified, prediction squaring with event, promise tallying ex actly with accomplishment,' scripture ac quires a solidity which bids defiance to all created force : becomes, in its own energetic language, " as a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces." The persons exhibited, the events recorded, the scenes described, the institutions ordained in one age and state of the world, which were the shadows of good things to come, are not only instructive and interesting in themselves, but acquire a weight and importance which they possessed not before, when viewed in their relation to Him, to whom all the prophets give witness, and whose persony character, and work, are the fulfilling of all that was written of old time. The history of Adam ministers both plea sure and instruction to us as men: but Chris tians feel a peculiar interest in the perusal of it, by considering Adam " as the figure of him who was to come." Having, in the last Lecture, attempted a delineation of the life of the first man, ac cording as it is transmitted to us in the holy scriptures, we proceed, in prosecution of our plan, to institute iii a few particulars, a com parison between Adam and Christ;, between 2 14 ADAM AND CHRIST COMPARED. [LECT. III. the federal head and representative of the human race, and the covenant head and re presentative of the church. But first, let us observe wherein the first man differs from, and wherein he resembles all other men, who have descended from him by ordinary generation. First, — In the manner of his production. Other men arrive at their maturity, such as it is, by slow and insensible degrees; they make a progress through infancy, childhood, and youth, to man's estate; Adam was creat ed perfect at once ; the moment he began to exist, he existed in all the dignity and strength of reason and intelligence. All other men are conceived in sin, and brought forth in iniquity ; he came from the hands of his Creator, holy and blameless, the son of God. The mental powers of the wisest and most intelligent of mankind, his sons, are narrow and contracted ; we know but a few things, and them imperfectly: the whole world of nature was an open volume to his understanding. Since the fall, men are born into the world with the seeds of decay and dissolution in the constitution and frame of their nature ; but Adam was created incor ruptible, immortal. The property and power of the greatest of his posterity is cramped and confined ; limited by mountains, rivers, and seas ; liable to be encroached upon, dis puted, invaded, taken away : but the domi nion of the first man was uncontrolled, his authority indisputable, his property univer sal ; the beasts of tho field, the birds of the air, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the sea, all, all were put under his feet. But Adam, fallen and lost, is just what all his hapless children are; like them a slave to divers lusts and passions ; like them liable to disease and death ; like them a prey to sorrow, fear, and remorse ; like them a child of wrath, an heir of hell ; and like them, to be recovered, restored, re-established, only by the mercy of God, and through the aton ing blood ofa Saviour ; and how that Saviour was typified or held forth to the world, by the. person, character, and relative connex ions of Adam, is to be the subject of the re maining part of this discourse. Adam, perhaps, was not himself aware, that he was in this respect fulfilling the de signs of Providence. We know that many others exhibited striking types of the pro mised Saviour, in their persons, offices, and actions, without being conscious that such honourable distinction was conferred upon them; and Moses, the inspired author ofthe history of the first man, no where hints, that he considered Adam, or that Adam consider ed himself in this light. But to us the matter is put beyond a doubt, by one who wrote also under the inspiration of God, the great apos tle of the Gentiles, who informs us; that this first man, into whose nostrils God breathed the breath of life, and who thereby became a living soul, was " the type or figure of him that was to come:"* and in many other places, in his epistles, shows us wherein the resemblance consists. Following him there fore, and the other sacred writers of the New Testament, as our guides, we observe, First, that Adam typified Christ, as being in a peculiar sense the Son of God. The evangelist Luke, in tracing the natural pedi gree of our Saviour, ascends step by step from son to father, till he comes to the first progenitor of all, " who was," says he, " the Son of God:" that is, his immediate offspring, deriving his existence without any interposi tion, from the great source of being. And what saith the scripture concerning the Mes siah? "I will declare the decree: the Lord hath said unto me, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee,"f and " when he bringeth in the first begotten into the world," he saith, "And, let all the angels of God worship him."f As the manner in which Adam was pro duced, was new aud unexampled, so the con ception and birth of Christ were "a new thing in the earth:" the former created of dust from the ground, the latter formed by the power of the Holy Ghost in the womb of a virgin. But Adam, the son of God, though made in the likeness of his Creator, express ed that divine image only externally, as the coin exhibits the image and impress of the sovereign : whereas Christ the Son of God displayed "the brightness of his Father's glory," and bore " the express image of his person." Adam the son of God was produced in time, on the sixth day of the creation, af ter all the other works of God were finished : but Christ, the Son of God, the eternal wis dom of the everlasting Father, thus speaks of himself. " The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his way, before his works of old. I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was. When there were no depths, I was brought forth : when there were no fountains abounding1" with water. Before the mountains were set tled, before the hills was I brought forth: while as yet he had not made the earth, nor the fields, nor the highest part of the dust of the world : when he prepared the heavens I was there: when he set a compass upon the face of the depth : when he established the clouds above: when he strengthened the fountains of the deep : when he gave to the sea his decree, that the waters should not pass his commandment: when he ap pointed the foundations of the earth : then I was by him, as one brought up with him : and I was daily his delight, and rejoicing always before him : rejoicing in the habita- * Romans v. 14. tFsalm».?'. 1 Heb. i.6. LECT. III. J ADAM AND CHRIST COMPARED. 15 ble part of his earth, and my delights were with the sons of men."* Secondly, — The constitution of Adam's nature prefigured tlie person of Christ. In Adam, an immaterial immortal spirit was united to a material earthly body, to consti tute one perfect, living man ; in Christ, the human nature was united to the divine, to constitute one perfect life-giving Saviour. The one a mystery of nature, the other a mystery of grace. The one, tliough incom prehensible, yet certainly known by every man to be true ; the other tliough incompre hensible, yet by every christian believed to be true. Thirdly, — The paternal relation which Adam bears to all the human race, beauti fully represents to us Jesus the Son of God, as the spiritual father of all them that be lieve. The first man, Adam, says the text, was made " a living soul," that is, the source of a natural life, to them who had it not be fore ; the last Adam was made " a quickening spirit," that is, the giver and restorer of a spiritual and divine life, to those who, having lost it, were " dead in trespasses and sins." The water in the conduit will rise to the level of its fountain, but can never mount higher. Thus Adam can communicate only what he was, and what he had himself; be ing therefore of the earth, earthly, he could only propagate an earthly existence ; but the second man, being the Lord from heaven, can, and does, make his spiritual offspring "partakers of a divine nature." As every man, upon coming into the world of nature, the instant he draws the breath of life, bears the image ofthe first man whom God created ; so from Jesus Christ, progenitor of them who believe, all who are regenerated, or born into the world of grace, derive their, spiritual ex istence, and bear the image of him, from whom the whole family of heaven and earth is named. But Adam is the remote, not the immediate father of our flesh : whereas Christ is the immediate source of spiritual light and life to all those " who are born; not of blood nor ofthe will ofthe flesh, nor ofthe will of man, but of God."f Fourthly, — Adam and Christ bear a strik ing resemblance in respect of dominion and sovereignty. When God had created man, " he blessed him, and said unto him, Have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the„lpwl of the air, and over every living- thing that moveth upon the earth." " Thou hast made him," says the Psalmist, " a little lower than the angels; and hast crowned him with glory and honour. Thou madest hip to have dominion over the works of thy hands : thou hast put all things under his feet. All sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the jfield ; the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through * Frov. viii. 22—31. f John i, 13. tlie paths ofthe seas."* And Christ the Lord, even in the days of his .flesh, while he yet dwelt among men, not only possessed but ex ercised an unlimited authurity over the whole ' world of nature, over things visible, and things invisible. The prince of the power of 4he air fled at his command : the boisterous elements heard and obeyed his word: dis ease, and death, and the grave fulfilled his pleasure. How much more justly, after his resurrection from the dead, when " declared the Son of God with power," could he say of himself, " all power is given unto me, in hea ven and in earth ?" and the Apostle also, con cerning him, " God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name, which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth : • and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory' of God the Fa- ther."f We see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honour. " And he must reign, till he hath put all his ene mies under his feet." The sovereignty of Adam, however, was derived, dependent, limited, and might be forfeited : and his his tory, and our own experience feelingly as sure us, "that, being in, honour he continued not ;" that the crown is fallen from his head, and the sceptre dropt from his hand. His de rived authority was withdrawn by him who bestowed it ; his dependent power was check ed and curbed, because he had abused it; his limited empire was .reduced to nothing, be cause he presumed to affect equality with his Creator ; and having received dominion un der a condition, failing in the condition, he forfeits his throne. But the sovereignty of Christ is inherent, independent, unlimited, and everlasting. " Unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever, a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom;" and the Son himself saith, "I lay down my life, that I might take it again.- I lay it down of myself : I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again." " And I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me is greater than all : and none is able to pluck them out of my Father's. hand. I and my Father are one."| Again, the sacred and pure matrimonial union established in paradise between Adam and Eve, was intended to prefigure the mys terious union, the pure and reciprocal affec tion of Christ and his church : in which also*. we follow the Apostle of the Gentiles in his epistle to the Ephesians, 5 " for the husband is the head, of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church ; and he is the Saviour of * Fsalm viii. 5—8. 1 John x. 28—30. t Phil. ii. 9—11. § Chap, v. 23. 16 ADAM AND CHRIST COMPARED. [lect. rn. the body. Therefore as the church is subject to Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it, with the wash ing of water by the word ; that he might pre sent it to himself a glorious church, not hav ing spot or wrinkle, or any such thing ; but that it should be holy, and without blemish. We are members of his body ; of his flesh, and of his bones. For this cause, shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh. This is a great mystery ; but I speak concerning Christ and the church." Finally, — The whole tenor of scripture teaches us to consider Adam, the first of men, as the covenant head and representative of all his posterity, according to the order and course of nature; and Jesus Christ the Lord, as the federal head and representative of all his redeemed, according to the election of grace. " For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead." " For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." " By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." And " if by one man's offence, death reigned by one, much more they which receive abundance of grace, and of the gift of righteousness, shall reign in life by one, Jesus Christ. Therefore, as by the offence of one, judgment came upon all men to con demnation : even so by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life. For as by one man's dis obedience, many were made sinners : so by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous."* But whatever admits of comparison, by bearing resemblance, must likewise admit of contrast, on account of dissimilitude : for what so like, as to be undistinguishable ? What two persons are so much the same, as not to " exhibit, to the least discerning eye, charac- teristical marks of difference ? And indeed, ;p>the very particulars wherein the first and second Adam coincide, evince the infinite superiority of the one above the other, as well as those circumstances which could not possibly be in common between them. Adam was assaulted ofthe wicked one, by a -slight temptation ; yielded ; and fell : Christ was tempted ofthe devil, by repeated, vigor ous, and well-conducted attacks; resisted to the last ; and overcame. Adam in paradise, became guilty, and miserable, and liable to death: Christ passed through a corrupted world, lived in the midst of a sinful and * Rom. v. 17—19. *b adulterous generation, but preserved unspot ted innocence ; " he did no sin, neither was guile found in his lips." Adam by one offence became guilty ofthe whole law, poured con tempt upon it, and transmitted his crime, together with the punishment of it, to all mankind : Christ, by a complete obedience, "magnified the law, and made it honour able," approved himself unto God, and con veys the merit of his obedience and sufferings to all them that believe, for their justification and acceptance. Adam, aspiring to a condi tion superior to that in which his Maker placed him, not only failed to obtain what he aimed at, but also lost what he had ; desiring to be as God, to know good and evil, he ac quired indeed the fetal knowledge of evil, but lost the knowledge of good which he al ready possessed ; and sinking himself, drags down a devoted world with him: whereas Christ, for the voluntary abasement of him self, is exalted to " the right hand of the Majesty on high," " for the suffering of death, is crowned with glory and honour," and " lifted up on the cross, draws all men unto him." The moment we exist, in virtue of our relation to the first Adam, we die for an of fence we could not commit ; so, we no sooner become united to the second Adam through faith in his blood, than we become partakers of a spiritual and divine nature, and heirs of everlasting life, in virtue of a righteousness not our own. " Being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Je sus Christ ; and rejoice in hope of the glory of God." In Adam, we are condemned for one sin : in Christ we are justified for many offences. The history of Adam represents to us a garden with one tree of life amidst many that were good for food, and near to one that was pregnant with death : the Revelation of Jesus Christ exhibits to us a paradise, all whose trees are of one sort ; whose fruit is life-giving, whose very leaves are salutary ; trees of life which know no decay, never dis appoint the gatherer's hope, never feel the approach of winter. Genesis presents to our trembling, aston ished sight, " cherubims and a flaming sword, which turn every way to keep the way of the tree of life." The Apocalypse discloses to our delighted eyes, angels ministering to them who are the heirs of salvation; and our ravished ears hear these glad accents bursting from amidst the excellent glory, "To him that overcometh, will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God." " Let him that is athirst, come : and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. ( 17 ) HISTORY OF CAIN AND ABEL. LECTURE IV. By faith Abel offered unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain; by which he obtained witness that he was righteous, God testifying of his gills, and by it he, being dead, yet speaketh.— Heliiews xi. 4. A state of innocence was apparently of short duration. The history of it contains but a very few particulars. To plunge the human race into guilt and ruin wag the work only of a moment : but to restore mankind to life and happiness, employed depth of de sign to contrive; length of time to mature and unfold ; and irresistible force to execute. The history ofthe world is, in truth, the his tory of redemption. For all the dealings of Divine Providence with men, directly or hy implication immediately or remotely, point out and announce a Saviour. To our first parents, immediately upon the fall, a promise was given, in general, indeed, but not in ob scure terms, of deliverance and recovery, by one who should be in a peculiar and proper sense, " tiie seed of the woman." And it is far from being unreasonable to suppose, that the skins employed to cover the shame of our guilty first parents, were taken from victims slain by divine appointment; who by the shedding of their blood were to typify the great atonement, styled in scripture. " the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. " But admitting this to be merely a fanciful conjecture, we have the authority of. God himself to affirm, that the immediate descend ants of Adam offered such sacrifices, and looked in faith and hope to such propitiation : " For by faith Abel offered unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain, by which he obtained witness, that he was righteous,. God testifying of his gifts," and by it he, being dead, yet speaketh." The history, charac ter, and conduct of these two brothers, from the materials furnished us in scripture, are to be the subject of this Lecture. Adam, with the partner of his guilt and of his future fortunes, being expelled from Eden, and tumbled from all his native honours, en ters on the possession of a globe, which was cursed for his sake. He feels that he is fallen Worn a spiritual and divine lifef from- right eousness and innocence ; that he has become liable to death ; nay, by the very act of dis obedience, that he really died to goodness ajid happiness. But the sentence itself which condemns him, gives him full assurance, that his natural life, though forfeited, was to be- reprieved; that he should live to labpur;,;tO eat his bread with the sweat of hi$ brow's- and not only so, but that he should be the iffeans of communicating that natural life toothers; . for that Eve should become a mother, though the pain and sorrow of conception and child- bearing were to.be greatly multiplied. In process of time she accordingly brings forth a son ; and pain and sorrow are. no more re membered, for joy that a man-child is born into the world. What she thought and felt upon this occasion, we learn from what she said, and from the name she gave her new born son. With a heart overflowing with gratitude, she looks up to God, who had not only spared and prolonged her life, but made her the joyful mother of a living child ; and who, in multiplying her sorrow, had much more abundantly multiplied her comfort. Ease that succeeds anguish is doubly relished and enjoyed. Kindness from one whom we have offended, falls with a weight pleasingly oppressive upon the mind., Some interpret ers, and not without reason, suppose, that she considered the son given her, as the promised seed, who should bruise the head of the ser pent ; and they read her self-gratulatory ex clamation thus, "I have gotten the man from the Lord." And how soothing to the mater nal heart must have been the hope of deliver ance and relief for herself, and triumph over her bitter eneniy, by means of the. son of her own bowels ! How fondly does she dream of repairing the ruin which her frailty had brought'upon her husband and family, by this " first-born of many brethren !" The name she gives him signifies " possessed*" or a She flatters herself that she has now got something she can call her own jg and even ther loss of paradise seems compen-* sated by a dearer inheritance. If there be a portion more tenderly cherished, or more highly priced than another, it is that of which David speaks,* " Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord : and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand, of a mighty man ; so are children of .the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them.: they shall not be ashamed ; but they shall speak with the eneihies inrtihe gate." But O, blind to futurity, with how many sor rows was Shis " possession" so extfitingly tri- umphecfflB, about to pierce the fond maternal breast ! How unlike are the forebodings and wishes Of parental tenderness and partiality, * Psalm cxrvii. 3—5. . -."!• 2* 18 HISTORY OF CAIN AND ABEL. flECT. IT. to the destinations of Providence, and the discoveries which time brings to light ! " And V she again bare bis brother Abel." The word denotes vanity, or a breath of air. Was this name given him through the unreasonable prejudice and unjust preference of a partial mother? Or was it an unintentional predic tion of the brevity of his life, and of the la mentable manner of his death ? But the ma terials. of which life is composed, are not so much its days, and months, and years, as works of piety, and mercy, and justice, or their opposites. He dies in full maturity, who has lived to God and eternity, at what ever period, and in whatever manner he is cut off. That life is short, though extended to a thousand years, which is disfigured with vice, devoted to the pursuits of time merely, and at the close of which the unhappy man is found unreconciled to God. Behold this pair of brothers, then, growing in wisdom and in stature ; gladdening their parents' hearts. They arrive at the age of reason, of vigour, of activity ; they feel the law of God and nature upon them. Though the heirs of empire, they must labour for their subsistence — "Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller ofthe ground."* The earth will no longer spontaneously yield her increase. The clods must be turned up, and the seed must be cast into the furrow, through the care, foresight, and industry of man, else in vain will the heavens shed their influence ; and in vain will the blessing of the Most High be expected. That cattle may furnish either the fleece for clothing, or milk for food, they must be protected from inclement seasons, and ravenous beasts ; they must be conducted to proper pasture, and provided with water from the brook. And this is the origin of the first employments which occupied our elder brethren ip a state of nature. And here it is observable, that the different dispositions of the brothers may be traced in the occupations which they fol lowed. Pious and contemplative, Abel tends his flock ; his profession affords more retire ment, and more leisure, for meditation ; and the very nature of his charge forms him to vigilance, to providence, and to sympathy. His prosperity and success seem to flow im mediately,, and only, from the hand of God. Cain, more worldly, and selfish, betakes him self to husbandry ; a work of greater indus try and art; the necessary implements of which, suppose the prior invention of sundry branches of manufacture ; and in whose operations! and their effects, artblending.with nature, would claim at least her full propor tion of merit and importance. But it is not the occupation which has merit or demerit ; the man who exercises it, is the object of cen sure or of praise. . It is not the husbandry of Cain, but wicked Cain the husbandman that * Genesis iv. 2. we blame ; it is not the shepherd's life, but good Abel the shepherd that we esteem. " And in process of time it came to pass, that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering unto the Lord. And Abel he also brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof; and the Lord had respect unto Abel, and to his offering :"* What is any condition, any employment, unconnected with, unsupported, unadorned by religion! How wretched a creature is the mere citi zen of this world, whose views, pursuits, and enjoyments, all terminate' in time ! The man who sees not his comforts and his successes as coming from the hand of God ; and* whose heart rises not in gratitude to the Giver of all good, is a stranger to the choicest ingredient in the cup of prosperity. But can God, the great God, stand in need of such things as these ? " Is not every beast of the forest his, and the cattle upon a thousand hills?" Yes, verily : religion was not instituted for the sake of God, but of man : for man cannot be profitable to his Maker, as he that is wisp, and good, and pious, may be unto himself. Religion is pressed upon us by the very law of, our nature ; and it is absolutely necessary to human happiness. Cain observes the fruits of the earth arrive at their maturity. He knows that all his care and skill, without the interposition of Heaven, could not haye produced a single grain of corn. He had observed the seed which he cast into the ground, dying, in or der to be quickened ; he saw from putrefac tion a fresh stem springing up, and bearing thirty, sixty, an hundred fold ; and a power more than human conducting this wonderful progress. Ofthe first and best, therefore, he brings an offering unto the Lord ; not to en- rich.his Maker, but to do honour to himself. Abel's flocks and herds likewise, through the blessing of the Almighty, increase and mul tiply; he adores the hand that makes his wealth ; and presents the firstlings of his flock to the Lord. "But, alas ! his offering, in order to be accepted, must bleed and die. The innocent lamb which he had tended with so much care, had fed from his hand, had carried in his bosom, must by his hand be slain, must find no compassion from the ten der shepherd's heart, when piety demands him — must be consumed to ashes before his eyes. " And the Lord had respect unto Abel, and to his offering. But unto Cain, andAo his offering, he had not respect." What made the difference ? Not the nature and quality of the things offered, but the dispo sition of the offerers. Our text illustrates and explains the passage in Genesis, " By faith Abel offered unto God a more excel-) lent sacrifice than Cain." Cain came before God as a righteous man ; Abel as a sinner. Cainlbrought an offering of acknowledgment ; * Genesis iv. 3. 4. LECT. IV.] HISTORY OF CAIN AND ABEL. 19 Abel a propitiatory sacrifice. Cain's gift be speaks a grateful heart : Abel's a contrite spirit. Cain eyes the goodness of God ; Abel his mercy and long-suffering. Cain says, " Lord, I thank thee for all thy benefits to ward me ; Abel, " Lord I am unworthy of the least of thy favours." Cain rejoices in the world as a goodly portion ; Abel, by faith, discerns and expects a better inhe ritance. Cain approaches, trusting in an imperfect righteousness of his own, and de parts unjustified ; Abel draws nigh, depend ing on the perfect righteousness of a Medi ator, and goes away righteous in the sight of God. In what manner the divine approbation and displeasure were expressed, we are not in formed ; whether by a celestial fire seizing and consuming the one offering and leaving the other untouched ; or by a voice from heaven, declaratory of the mind of God. But we are assured that it was sufficiently noti fied to the parties themselves. On Abel, un doubtedly, it had the effect which a sense of the favour of God will always produce upon a good mind, a mind which esteems the loving-kindness of the Most High more than life; sweet complacency and composure of spirit, " the peace of God which passeth all understanding." On Cain it produceth a very different effect; he was very wroth, " and his countenance fell." Men are often angry when they ought to be grieved; and remorse for their own unworthiness frequent- ly becomes resentment against their innocent neighbours ; and not seldom it changes into sullenness, insolence, and rebellion against God himself. Observe the goodness and con descension of God ; he vouchsafes to reason with, to warn, and to admonish this peevish, petulant man ; and gives encouragement to a better temper and behaviour. "If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted ?" He promises to support him in his right of pri mogeniture, unworthy as he was^-" To thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him ;" but at the same time, he points out the danger of persevering in impiety, and of prosecuting his resentments— " If thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door." But the soul, of which envy, malice, and revenge, have taken possession, is lost to the better feelings of human nature ; is deaf to remon strance, and insensible of'kindness. The in nocent are simple and unsuspicious ; intend ing no evil, they fear none. Cain, it would appear from the letter of the narration, and the scene where the action is laid, decoyed his brother into solitude, under the mask of |familiarity and friendship ; " he talked with ' him," they were in the field. What a horrid aggravation of his guilt ! A deed of violence ! Murder ! a good man's, a brother's murder ! Deliberately resolved on, craftily conducted, remorselessly executed ! Was man's 'first disobedience a slight evil, which introduced such desperate wickedness into the world ; which transformed man into the most savage of beasts ! " He rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him." Now was death for the first time seen ; and seen in his ghastli est form ! Death before the time ! The death of piety and goodness ! Death inflict ed by violence, and preceded by pain ! Death embittered to the sufferer by reflecting on the hand from which it came; the hand ofa brother, the hand which should have sup ported and protected him, which should have barred the door against the murderer, not borne the fatal instrument itself! At length the feeble eyes close in peace ; and the pain of bleeding wounds, and the pangs of fraternal cruelty are felt no more. " The dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit unto God who gave it." The spirit returns to God, to see his unclouded face, formerly seen through the medium of natural objects, and of religious services ; to under stand, and to enjoy the great mystery of the atonement, hitherto known only in a figure. Happy Abel, thus early delivered from the sins and sorrows of a vain world! And thus death, at whatever season, in whatever form, and from whatever quarter it comes, is always unspeakably great gain to a good man. Such was the life, and such the untimely end of " righteous Abel ;" for so our blessed Lord styles him, who fell a martyr to religion. The remainder of Cain's history ; the short view given us ofthe character of his descend ants, together with the birth of Seth, given and appointed of God to preserve the sacred line, to propagate the holy seed, in place of Abel, whom Cain slew; will, with the per mission of God, furnish matter for another Lecture. Let us conclude the present, by setting up the character of Abel as an object of esteem, and a pattern for imitation. Faith in God, and in a Saviour to come ; and the righteousness which is of God by faith, are the leading and striking features of this portrait ; and by these, " being dead, he yet speaketh ;" or if you choose to adopt the mar ginal reading, " is yet spoken of." It is a desirable thing to enjoy a good name while we live, and to be remembered with kindness after we are dead. But reputation is the gift of others : it' is often gained without merit, and lost -without a crime. Whereas true goodness is a real, unalienable possession ; it Cleaves to us in death ; it accompanies us to the world of spirits ; it instructs the world while we live ; it speaks from the grave ; it shines in the presence of God in heaven. Here, my*friends, it is lawful and honourable to aspire.' Permit others to get before you in wealth or in fame ; grudge not to your neigh bour the superiority in wit, or strength, or beauty ; but yield .to. none in piety, in purity, HISTORY OF CAIN. [lect. v. in faith, in charity ; aim at the highest ho nours ofthe Christian name ; be humble, and be every thing. Salvation, men and brethren, has, from the beginning, flowed in one and the same chan nel. There was not one gospel to the ante diluvian, and another to the postdiluvian world ; one method of redemption to the Jews,, and another to the Gentiles; but "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, arid for ever." Abel, Abraham, Moses, David, Simeon, Paul, and all who have been, or shall be saved, lived and died in the faith of Christ. " Neither is there salvation in any other ; for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved."* This, therefore, is the great commandment of God to us in these days of meridian light and glory, namely, " that we should believe on the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another." Was Abel a type of Christ, as well as a be liever in him ? The scripture indeed saith it not expressly ; but surely, without strain ing, we may discern some striking marks of resemblance. What saith Moses ? " Abel was a keeper of sheep." What saith Christ? " I am the good shepherd : the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." What did Abel? "He, through faith, brought of the firstlings of his flock, and of the fat thereof, an offering unto the Lord." What did Christ ? * Acts iv. 12. " Through the eternal Spirit he offered him self without spot to God." Were Abel's days cut short by the hand of violence ? So " Mes siah the Prince, was cut off, but not for him self." Was Abel hated of, and slain by his brother ? Christ " was despised and rejected" of his own, and died by the treachery of a familiar friend in whom he trusted, and by the cruelty of those who were his brethren according to the flesh. Did the blood of Abel cry to God from the ground, for ven geance on the head of him who shed it? O, with what oppressive weight has the blood of Jesus fallen, and how heavily does it still lie on the heads of them, and of their chil dren, who with wicked hands crucified and slew him ! Could the blood of- Abel atone for his sin ? No : but the blood of Christ cleanseth him, and every believer, from all sin. Yet Abel died as a righteous man, Christ as a sinner. Abel, a guilty creature, ¦ was justified and accepted through an im puted righteousness ; Christ, who was " holy, harmless, undefiled, and separated from sin ners," was condemned and suffered, because " The Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all." Abel suffered death once for all; the body of Christ was " 6ffered once for all," and by that one sacrifice, "he hath for ever perfected them that are sanctified." But we pursue the similitude and the contrast no farther. May God bless what has been said. Amen. And to his holy name be praise. HISTORY OF CAIN. LECTURE V. For this is the message that ye heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. Not as Cain, who was of that wicked one, and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him ? Because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous. — 1 Jobn iii. 11, 12. It is a pleasant task to attend the footsteps of the wise and good, through the thorny maze of human life : to draw nigh with the devout, to the altar of God : to learn patience ofthe meek, compassion ofthe merciful, and kiudness ofthe generous : to love and admire them in life, and to regret them in death. But ah ! how painful to trace the progress, and to mark the appearances of " the carnal mind, which is enmity against God," and hatred to man from the first conception of an ill design, to the final execution ofa deed of horror ! " Lust, having conceived, bringeth forth sin, and sin when finished, bringeth forth death." .Nevertheless, it is highly im portant, that even-objects of detestation should be placed before the eyes of men ; that sin should be viewed in her native loathsomeness and deformity, to excite, if possible, aversion and disgust. To direct men in the journey of life, it is necessary to erect beacons, the admonition of hidden dangers and death ; as well as to set up indexes, to point out the right path. The two first men who were born into the world, are designed of Provi dence to answer this valuable purpose, to those who should come after them. Abel^ though dead, continues to instruct men in the' excellency, amiableness, and importance of true religion ; Cain stands to all generations, 'a fearful example of ungovernable passion, hurrying a man on to blood, and plunging LECT. V.] HISTORY OF CAIN. 21 him into despair. Having considered the former as a pattern for imitation, we are now to consider tile history of the latter, as afford ing an useful and seasonable warning to look to ourselves, "lest we also be hardened, through the deceitfulness of sin." Cain has now accomplished his bloody pur pose. His envied, hated rival is now , re moved out of sight: the virtues of his brother no longer reproach him: Abel stands no more in the way, to intercept the rays of the favour of God, or of man. Is he not now then at rest? No eye saw him commit the murder. And if it were known, who shall call him to account ? No eye saw him ! Yes, the eye of Cain saw him : yes, the eye of God saw him : hence the whole earth becomes all eye to behold him, all tongue to accuse him. Who shall call him to account? That shall Cain ; his own conscience shall avenge the murder : that shall the hand of every man, fly whither he will ; for every man is con cerned to destroy him, who makes light of the life of another : that shall God, from whom he cannot fly. Revenge,' like " a devilish engine," recoils on him that employs it; or, like the flame of Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace, catches hold of, and destroys the ministers of vengeance, not the objeets of it. The mournful tidings must soon reach the ears ofthe afflicted parents. What were now thy feelings, Eve, when he, who was expected to be. a Saviour, turns out a de stroyer? Which is the heavier affliction, a son prematurely and violently cut off; or a son living to present an object of horror and detestation to their eyes ? A pious child dead, is beyond all controversy, a possession in finitely preferable to a profligate alive. Alas ! what shall they do ? To overlook the mur der, is to beicome partakers in the guilt of it ; to punish the murderer, as justice de mands, is to render themselves childless. Ah ! how do the difficulties and distresses of their fallen estate increase upon guilty men every day ! The cause, which was too hard for Adam to determine, God takes into his own hand. " And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother?"* Offences committed in secret, and offenders, whose power and station bid defiance to earthly tribunals, fell properly under the immediate cognizance of heaven. Behold the throne is set, and the judgment opened. How meek and gentle is God with this murderer ! He would draw confession from his mouth, not as a snare, but as an indication of contrition. The end which God has in view, in making inquiry after blood, is, not the conviction and punishment ; but the conviction, pardon, and recovery of the criminal. What a question.' " Where is thy brother?" put by God him self to the wretch whose hands were'yet reeking with his blood. What heart, har- • Genesis iv. 9. dened through sin, dictated the reply, "I know not, am I my brother's keeper 1" Is this the eldest hope of the first human pair? Ia he not rather the first born of that accursed being, who is a liar and a murderer from the beginning ? "I know not :" Falsehood must be called in to cover that wickedness which we are ashamed or afraid to avow. " Am I my brother's keeper ?" How dread ful Is the progress of vice ! How crime leads on to crime ! Envy begets malice ; malice inspires revenge; revenge hurries on to blood ; bloodguiltiness seeks shelter under untruth, and untruth attempts to support it self by insolence, assurance, and pride : and haughtiness of spirit is but one step from destruction. Ah, little do men know, when they indulge one evil thought, or venture on one unwarrantable action, what the issue is to be ! They vainly flatter theriiselves it is in their power to stop when they please. But passion, like a fiery unmanageable steed in the hands of an unskilful rider, by one in considerate stroke of the spur, may be ex cited to such a pitch of fury, as no skill can tame, no force restrain ; but both horse and rider are hurried together down the preci pice, and perish in their rage. The milder, and more indirect admonitions and reproofs of God's word and providence being misunderstood, slighted or defied, jus tice is concerned, and necessity requires, to speak in plainer language, and to bring the charge directly home : and that severity is most awful, which was preceded by gentle ness, patience, and long-suffering. God at length awakes to vengeance ; " and he said, What hast thou done ? The voice of. thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground."* And mark how every creature arms itself in the cause of God. The dead earth is represented as acquiring sensibility, and refusing to cover blood : the silent ground becomes vocal, and loudly accuses the crimi nal ; the stones of the field are at war with him who has made God his foe: nay, the earth is made not only the accuser, but the punisher of the guilty ; for this new trans gression it falls under a heavier curse. Adam for his offence, was doomed to eat bread with , the sweat of his brow ; was doomed to labour, yet to labour in hope of increase ; but Cain shall spend his strength for nought and in vain. The ground shall present greater rigidity to the hand of cultivation : shall ca&t out the seed thrown into it, or consume and destroy it; or at best produce a lean and scanty crop. Cain and the earth are to be mutually cursed to each other. It seems to tremble under, and shrink from the feet ofa murderer ; it refuses henceforth to yield un to him her strength, and considers him as a monstrous misshapen birth, of which she is ashamed, and which she wishes to destroy. * Genesis iv. 10. 22 HISTORY OF CAIN. [lect. v. He considers it as an unnatural mother, whom no pains can molify, no submission reconcile. " A fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the earth." When the mind is changed, every thing changes with it : when a man is at discord with himself, he is eter nally from home. The spacious world, Cain's hereditary domain, is become a vast solitude ; ofa home is turned into a place of exile. The person whom all men shun is every where a stranger ; he who is smitten of his own conscience, is continually sur rounded with enemies. The same principle which engages men in criminal enterprises, in the hope of im punity, throws them into despair, upon the denunciation of punishment. As they for merly expected much- higher satisfaction from the execution of their wicked purposes, than the most successful villany ever could bestow ; so now their own guilty minds out run the awards of justice itself; and the awakened conscience does ample vengeance upon the offender at length, amply vindicates the cause both of God and man. This is strikingly exemplified in the case of Cain. His recent boldness and insolence are a strong contrast to his present dejection and terror. lie now sinks under the apprehen sion of intolerable chastisements, and fore bodes greater evils than his sentence de nounced. His banishment he considers as far from being the greatest of the calamities of his condition ; he feels himself excluded, hidden from the gracious presence of God ; and deserted of his Maker, liable to fall by the hand of every assailant. But God re members mercy in the midst of anger ; and the life which he himself was graciously pleased to spare, no one else must, on any pretence whatever, presume to take away. He only who can bestow life, has a right to dispose of it. Ye over curious inquirers, who must needs be informed of every thing, what does it con cern you to know, by what mark God dis tinguished Cain, to prevent his being killed by any one who might take upon himself to be the avenger of blood ? Speculation and conjecture, which with some pass for illus tration and knowledge, are not the objects of these exercises ; but whatever assists faith, whatever supports a sound morality, what ever conveys real information, inspires a taste for goodness, represses inordinate and sinful desire ; whatever teaches gratitude and love .to God, and good will to men, that we would carefully observe, and earnestly in culcate. As it is no part of our intention to wander into the regions of speculation, un der a pretence of elucidating the sacred his tory, it is still less so, to enter the lists of controversy. Your Lecturer has, no doubt, his opinions and prejudices, like other men : his prejudices, however, he is confident to say, are on tbe side of truth, and virtue, and religion : his opinions, he has no inclination dogmatically to propose ; he neither wishes to make a secret of them, nor expects any one, much less the world, implicitly to adopt' them. He is conscious of a desire to do good ; not over anxious about fame ; happy in the affection of many friends, and un conscious of having given cause to any good man to be his enemy. Forgive a digression, suggested by the occasion, not rambled into through design; proceeding not from the de sire a man has to speak of himself, but from a wish, by doing it once for all, to cut off all future occasion of speaking, in or ofthe first person. We return to the history! " It shall come to pass," says guilty, trem bling Cain, " that every one that findeth me shall slay me." This is one of the many passages of scripture, which the enemies of religion have laid hold of, and held forth as contradictory to other parts of revelation, in the view of invalidating and destroying the whole. Here, they allege, Moses is incon sistent with himself; in deriving the whole human race from the common root of Adam, and at the same time supposing the world so populous at the time of Abel's murder, as to excite in Cain a well grounded apprehension of the public resentment and punishment of his crimes. Either, say they, there were other men and women created at the same time with, or before Adam and Eve ; or else Cain's fears were groundless and absurd. A learned and ingenious critic has taken the trouble to refute this objection, by instituting a calculation founded on obvious probabilities at least, by which it appears, that at the time of Abel's murder the world was sufficiently peopled, on the Mosaic supposition, that all mankind descended from Adam, to render the public justice an object of well grounded ap prehension to guilty Cain. We pretend not to assert that the calculation of a modern au thor is a demonstration of a feet so remote : if it be probable, it is sufficient for our pur pose, that of doing away one ofthe cavils of infidelity. The birth of Seth is fixed, by the history, in the one hundred and thirtieth year of Adam : it is therefore reasonable to place the death of Abel two years earlier, or near it ; that is, in the one hundred and twenty-eighth year ofthe world. "Now, though we should suppose," says the calculator* " that Adam and Eve had no other sons in the year ofthe world one hundred and twenty-eight but Cain and Abehitmustbe allowed that they had daughters, who might early marry with those two sons. I require no more than the de scendants of these two, to make a very con siderable number of men upon the earth, in the said year one hundred and twenty-eight. * Dissert. Chronol. Geogr. Critiq. stir la Bible 1 me Dissert. Journal de Paris, Jan. 1712, tom. li. p. c' LECT. V.] HISTORY OF CAIN. 23 For, supposing them to have been married in the nineteenth year of the world, they might easily have had each of them eight children in the twenty-fifth year. In twenty-five years more, the fiftieth ofthe world, their de scendants, in a direct line, would be sixty- four persons. In the seventy-fifth year, at the same rate, they would amount to five hundred and twelve. In the one hundredth year, to four thousand and ninety-six : and in the one hundred and twenty-fifth year, to thirty-two thousand seven hundred and sixty- eight" Now, if to this calculation we add, the high degree of probability that Adam had many more sons, besides those mentioned in the record ; that families were generally more numerous than the supposition states ; that simple manners, rural employments, temperature of climate, and largeness of room, are circumstances inconceivably more favourable to population, than modern facts and European customs give us any idea of, we shall have no reason to think it strange, that Cain, under the pressure of conscious guilt, and harrowed with fear, which always both multiplies and magnifies objects far be yond their real number and size, should be alarmed and intimidated at the numbers of mankind, who, he supposed, were ready, and were concerned to execute vengeance upon him. " He went out," the history in forms us, " from the presence of the Lord." Some interpreters have, from this expression, concluded, that even after the fell, God con tinued to reside among men, in some sacred spot adjoining to Eden, and in some sensible tokens of his gracious presence : that thither gifts and sacrifices were brought, and were there offered up; and that from thence, Cain, for his heinous transgression, was banished and excluded from the society and privileges of the feithful. Whatever be in this, we know for certain that wicked men naturally shun God, and drive him as far from their thoughts as they can: and in the phrase of 'scripture,' God is said to " hide his face" from wicked men, " to turn his back" upon them, " to give them up," to denote his displeasure with them. "And he dwelt," it is added, "in the land of Nod." It is the same word which is rendered in the twelfth and fourteenth verses, a vagabond. Why our translators, in the two former verses give the meaning, or import of the word, and in the sixteenth verse, the letters of it merely, is pot easily comprehensible. Let it be translated through put, the sense is perfectly clear, and all ground of idle inquiry taken away. In the twelfth verse, God denounces his punishment, Thou shalt not die, but be Nod, a vagabond in the earth. In the fourteenth verse, Cain recognizes the justice of his sentence,, and bewails it ; "I shall be Nod, a vagabond in the earth." And in the sixteenth, Moses gives us the history of its being put in ex ecution, " he went out from the presence of the Lord, and dwelt in the land of Nod" a vagabond flying from place to place, skulking in corners, shunning the haunts of men, pur sued incessantly by the remorseful pangs, and tormenting apprehensions of an ill conscience. Though you remove all external danger, yet "the wicked is as the troubled sea, which cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt :" he is " majormissabib," a terror to him self. To live in perpetual fear, to live at dis cord with a man's self, is not to live at all. The posterity of Cain are represented in scripture, as the first to build a city. The mutual fears and wants of men drive them into society ; put them upon raising bulwarks, devising restraints, cultivating the arts which afford the means of defence against attacks from without, or which amuse and divert within. The invention of music, and of ma nufactures in brass and iron, are, according ly, likewise ascribed to his descendants. When men are got together in great multi tudes, as their different talents will naturally whet each other to the invention of new arts of life, and the cultivation of science ; so their various passions, mingling with, and, acting upon one another, will necessarily produce unheard-of disorders and irregulari ties. Hence, in Enoch, the city of Cain, and in Lamech, the sixth from Cain, we first read of that invasion of the rights of mankind, polygamy, or the marrying more wives than one. In a great city, as there will be many who omit doing their duty altogether, so there will be some, who will take upon them to do more than duty prescribes. The un varying nearness, or equality which Provi dence has preserved from the creation ofthe world, of male and female births, is full de monstration, independent of all statute law, that the Governor of the world means every man to have his own wife, and every woman her own husband ; that to neglect his inten tion in this matter, is an attempt to counter act his providence ; and that to outrun it is an effort, equally vain, presumptuous, wicked, and absurd, to mend his work. How long Cain lived, and when, or where, and in what manner he died, we have no in formation. And little satisfaction can it yield, to attend the footsteps of a wicked and un happy man, through a life of guilt and re morse, to a latter end of horror. Better for him he had never been born, than to have lived a sorrow to her that bare him, detested and shunned of all men, " a fugitive and a vagabond in the earth," a burthen and a ter ror to himself. Better for him his name had never been mentioned among posterity, than to have it transmitted to latest generations, stained with a brother's blood. But it is of high importance to know, that God, in his good time, supplied the place of righteous Abel, preserved alive the holy seed, and se- 24 HISTORY OF ENOCH. [lect. xv cured a succession, Which should at length terminate in that "promised seed," who was " to bruise the serpent's head," who was " to destroy the works of the devil." " And Adam knew his wife again: and she bare a son, and called his name Seth ; for God, said she, hath appointed me another seed, instead of Abel, whom Cain slew." This wicked man's history is a loud admo nition to all to watch over their spirits ; and carefully to guard against the first emotions of envy, anger, hatred, contempt, malice, or revenge. And the words of Jesus Christ con firm and enforce the solemn warning, " I say unto you, that whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause, shall be in danger of the judgment; and whosoever shall say unto his brother, Baca, shall be in danger of the council : but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. There fore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee ; leave there thy gift be fore the altar, and go thy way ; first be re conciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift."* Hold thy bloody hand, son, daughter of murderous Cain ! Why should a brother, a sister fall by it ! That furious look is a dag ger; that unkind word has made the blood, the heart's blood to follow it. Daughter of * Matt. v. 23—24. murderous Cain ? A. female hand armed with a sword, lifted up to slay, dipped in blood ! No, she wields a more deadly weapon, she brandishes an envenomed tongue : poison more fatal than that of asps is under her lips ; it is not the body that suffers, when that un ruly member moves; it is the spirit, it is the spirit that bleeds : the man dies, and sees not who it was that hurt him ; he perishes in the best part of himself, his good name is blasted ; and what has he left worth possessing? The sight of a little material blood makes her feint : a dead corpse terrifies and shocks her, but she can calmly, and with delight, sit down to that horrid human sacrifice, a murdered, mangled reputation ! But the history, also, in 'its connexion, in spires holy joy: and confidence in God, by representing the constant, seasonable, and suitable interpositions of his prdvidence, ac cording to the various exigencies of mankind. Devils and wicked men are continually aim ing at defacing his image, at marring his work; but they cannot prevail. The pur poses of the divine wisdom and mercy are not to be defeated by the united efforts of earth and hell. Abel dies, but Seth starts up in his room. Jesus expires on the cross, but "through death destroys him that had the power of death, that is, the devil. Surely, O Lord, the wrath of man shall praise thee, and the remainder of wrath thou shalt restrain." HISTORY OF ENOCH. : * LECTURE VI. And Enoch walked with God, and he was not ; for God took him.— Genebis v. 24. The regular and uniform dominion of the laws of nature, or the occasional suspension and alteration of them, are equally a proof of the being and providence of God. Whether the sun, with uninterrupted speed, continues to perform his daily and annual course; or whether he " stands still in Gibeon," or " goes back on the dial of Ahaz ;" the interposition of the Most High is equally apparent, and equally to be adored. And why may -not He, who has " appointed unto all men, once to die," in order to make his power known, and his goodness felt, exhibit here and there an illustrious exemption from the power of the grave, and thereby vindicate his sovereign rights as the great arbiter and disposer of life and death. : To fallen Adam it was denounced, " Dust Jhbu art, and to dust thou shalt return ;" by one man " sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.:" But, behold, the mortal sentence is remitted in favour of Enoch, the seventh from Adam ; behold the order of nature is altered, the decree of Hea ven is dispensed with ; he is " translated with out tasting, of death." When an event, so entirely out of course, takes place, it is na tural, and not unprofitable, to inquire into the causes of it; for when the issue is singular and uncommon, we justly conclude that the circumstances which led to it, were likewise singular and uncommon. The holy scriptures afford us, but sparingly, materials for a life which concluded so very differently from that of other men; but what they have furnished, is striking and instructive. The venerable father of the human race LECT. VI.] HISTORY OF ENOCH. 25 had now himself paid tlie debt of* nature. The curse of the broken law had been seen and felt in the unnatural and premature death of Abel ; and was at length inflicted, in the departure of Adam, at the mature age of nine hundred and. thirty years. The events which had hitherto taken place from the fall, were so many successive demonstrations of the justice of God ; under the weight of which, men were, one after another, sinking into the grave. All that mercy had as yet done, was to grant a reprieve of forfeited life : and death, though delayed to the thousandth year, is still bitterness in the end. We may reason ably suppose the faithful themselves to have been overwhelmed at the sight of so many vials of wrath, poured out from time to time on their guilty race : and that they were in capable of discovering the promises of favour and triumph, of life and immortality, through the obscure veil of that promise, "the seed of the woman shall bruise the head of the ser pent" The sacrifice of Abel indeed disco vered a faith in God, which raised the spirit above the fear and the stroke of death ; and good men like him, would be led in their dying moments, with holy confidence and joy, to commit their departing souls to God, as unto a faithful Creator; but the body evi dently returned to its dust, suffered corrup tion, and was dissolved. Religion accordingly furnished, as yet, but imperfectly, one of the most powerful motives which it proposes to bring men unto God, as " the rewarder of all them that diligently seek him." But at length he vouchsafes to unveil the invisible world ; and shows it to be possible " for flesh and blood to inherit the kingdom of God." Within fifty-seven years from the time that Adam was laid in the dust, Enoch, without undergoing that change, passes immediately into the presence and paradise of God. And thus there was placed before the eyes of the church, and ofthe world, in that early period, an anticipated view and example of the final victory which the Messiah was at last to ob tain over death, and all the other enemies of man's salvation. Enoch, however illustrious and distinguish ed in his latter end, as well as by the supe rior sanctity of his life, came into the world in the usual manner, and fulfilled the duties ofthe ordinary relations of human life, while he continued in it. One great branch of holy walking with God, is useful walking among men. Having, to the- proper period, lived in the obedience and subjection of a son, he in due time becomes the master of a family and a father ; for Methuselah was born to him in the sixty-fifth year of his age, a period' earlier than that at which any of the patriarchs, according to the record, became a parent, except his grandfather Mahalaleel. It is not the religion of God, which with draws or excludes men from society ; and teaches disrespect to the secular destinations of providence, or the relative obligations and connexions of life. No, it is the religion of Satan, which would represent as impure, what God declares pure, and permits to all, enjoins upon all ; it is " a seducing spirit, and a doctrine of devils," which forbids to marry, "which God hath created to be received witli thanksgiving of them who believe and know the truth." What, is a wretched soli tary monk in his cell holier than Enoch, the father of a numerous family, who pleased God, so as to be rewarded with exemption from death, and with immediate admission into the kingdom of heaven? He. who lives unconnected, wilfully contracts his sphere of being useful, and of doing good ; he wick edly hides his talent in the ground ; he robs God, his country, and his kindred, of services which they have a just right to expect from him. Again, this holy man deserves our notice, as one of the great ancestors of the human race ; as a link in the mighty chain of provi dence, which was gradually bringing on that eventful period, that fulness of time, when, " the first-born among many brethren," last in order of succession, but first in dignity, should come for our salvation. Enoch was born in the year of the world six hundred and twenty-two. Adam died fifty-seven years before his translation. Of consequence they were contemporaries, or lived together, for no less a period than three hundred and eight years. Adam's whole stock of natural and divine knowledge might accordingly have been, and most probably was, communi cated, by word of mouth, to Enoch, in so long a course of years : and much did he profit by a communication so important. And this, by the way, instructs us in one final cause of the longevity of the patriarchs in the an tediluvian world. As there was then no written word, no transferable record of divine truth, all religious knowledge must have been greatly marred and impaired, if not en tirely lost, in the rapid lapse of generations, reduced to the present short standard of half a century. But God graciously Jengthened out life then to many centuries ; whereby the father was enabled to instruct his pos terity ofthe seventh or eighth generation, in the things which he himself had received immediately from the fountain of all truth and knowledge. Thus are the dispensations of Providence suited to the necessities of mankind; thus can God remedy every in- conveniency, and make up every defect, in a way peculiar to himself. But to proceed, Enoch was an illustrious person, not only* in the church, but among the heathen. — Eusebius, the famous ecclesiastical historian, who flourished and wrote in the fourth cen tury of the christian era, quotes Eupolemus, a heathen author of credit, as affirming, that 3 26 HISTORY OF ENOCH. [LECT. VI. the Babylonians consider Enoch as the au thor of their astrology; and allege, thathe is the same who is called Atlas by the Greeks, who, from his profound skill in natural ob jects, and particularly from his discoveries in astronomy, was hyperbolically said to sus tain the heavens on his shoulders. The ex pression, "Enoch walked with God," is, in conformity to this opinion, interpreted of his close and intense application to the study of nature, and of the great additions to the pub lic stock of acquired knowledge, which he made, in consequence of it. That this may warrantably be supposed to constitute one branch of " walking with God" we are not disposed to deny. The study of nature is honourable, pleasing, and improving, and " the invisible things of God" may be clearly traced in " the things that are made." But had Enoch been merely a great naturalist, a sagacious astronomer, or a profound sooth sayer, he had not been transmitted to future generations, by a distinction so honourable and so uncommon; nor had his history merit ed so much of your attention as has already been bestowed upon it. Whether he was an adept in the science of nature or not, we know, upon the best authority, that he was a great "prophet;" for Jude the servant of Jesus Christ, in his general epistle, quotes him in that quality, in these words : " Enoch also the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold the Lord cometh with ten thousand of his saints, to execute judg ment upon all, and to convince all, that are ungodly among them, of their ungodly deeds, which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches, which ungodly sin ners have spoken against him."* Now it is nonbusiness of mine to inquire in what re cord Jude found this prophecy of Enoch ; it is sufficient for my purpose that an Apostle of the Lord delivers it as such. Our pur pose, is not to answer the objections, and re fute the cavils of unbelievers, but, humbly to attempt to illustrate, enforce, and apply scripture truth, to those who receive the Bible as the word of God ; as the guide of their faith, the source of their hope, and the rule of their life. From the prophecy itself, it is of importance to observe how early, and how powerfully the doctrine of a judgment to come was taught to the world. How clearly do those men discern, whose eyes are opened by the Spirit of the living God ! How vast and how profound must that in telligence be, which can communicate, even to man, the foreknowledge of events the most remote ; which revealed to Enoch, in ¦the very infancy ofthe world, the awful day of its dissolution ! In this holy man it is apparent, that the grace of God's Spirit accompanied his gifts ; the spirit of prophecy blended with the spirit + Jude, verses 14, 15. of "faith, and love, and of a sound mind." Not like Balaam, who saw in prophetic vi sion, the star of Jacob arising, but in unbe lief shut his eyes against its light; who des cried things to come by the inspiration ofthe living God ; but sottishly yielded homage to them who are no gods ; who lived a prophet, but died an idolater ; not like Caiaphas, who, following the impulse of his own passions, and governed by the prejudice of a blinded mind, uttered a truth which he was not aware of; stumbled on a prediction which he was unknowingly, undesignedly, helping to fulfil : But Enoch, impressed with the solemn truth which he preached to others, daily improved by it himself. How apt are men to err in this respect! They earnestly covet the gifts, which are dispensed but to a few, and are not always sanctified to the possessor ; while they are careless about the graces which God is ever ready to bestow upon all, and which always accompany salvation. Let me possess, O God, an humble and a charitable spirit, though with the simplicity of a child, rather than " speak with the tongue of men or of angels," and be destitute of it. This leads us to the interesting, important, and instructive part of Enoch's history, name ly, his moral and religious character, express ed in these few but comprehensive words, " Enoch walked with God." Every thing else is transitory and fading. Youthful vigour and beauty are but the short-lived flowers of the spring, which die as soon as they are born ; the honourable distinctions of this world are bubbles of empty air, which burst in a mo ment, and disappear for ever ; scientific re- - searches and discoveries, are only the amuse ments of children, who know but in part, and see as " in a glass darkly ;" but holy walking with God is the honourable employment of a man ; it is a permanent and perennial source of satisfaction : it is the essence of life ; the cure of pain ; the conqueror of death ; the gate of immortality ; it is heaven upon earth. And wherein does it consist? "Can two walk together, except they be agreed ?" No. Walking with God must therefore commence in reconciliation to God : and scripture knows, acknowledges, teaches no other way of re conciliation but one. And the sacred com mentator on the passage and character under review, lays down this great leading princi ple of religion, as the foundation of Enoch's holy conversation, and of the honours which he of consequence attained — " By faith Enoch was translated, that he should not see death, and was not found, because God had trans lated him : for before his translation he had this testimony, that he pleased God. But without faith it is impossible to please him : for he that cometh to God, must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him."* Now, in every age of * Hebrews xi. 5, 6. LECT. VI.] HISTORY OF ENOCH. 27 the world, faith has but one and the same object From Abel down to the youngest of the prophets, and from the fisherman who left his nets, and his worldly all to follow Jesus, to the end of time, the being, the na ture, and the will of God have been, and can be, savingly known, and the mercy of God savingly embraced, only through a Mediator. On this foundation, what a superstructure of holiness may be raised ! What gratitude, love, submission, and obedience to God ! What complacency and delight in him 1 What kind ness, compassion, forbearance, beneficence, and charity towards men! What gentleness, meekness, purity, peace; to adorn, to com pose, to tranquilize, to bless the man him self! What constancy, perseverance, uni formity, increase in goodness ! What vener- ability as a patriarch ! What dignity as a sovereign! What sanctity as a priest ! What respectability as a husband, a father, a mas ter ! What utility as a pattern and example ! And such an one was Enoch ; thus he lived and walked with God ; and thus escaped death, that end of all men : " He was not, for God took him." This is the last memorable par ticular of his history. About the import of the words, we can be at no loss, after the apostle has explained them, by his being " translated that he should not see death." With the manner of that translation we have nothing to do, as scripture is silent. If God intended it to be a public admonition or en couragement to the men of that generation, we may rest assured he gave full and satis factory evidence concerning it. That he meant it to afford universal and everlastipg instruction to mankind, it is impossible to doubt, from his giving it so honourable and so distinguished a place in his word. And what is the instruction which it administers to the world ? Simply this, that a life of faith and holiness is but one remove from glory : that heaven descended to earth, will quickly raise men from earth to heaven : that death either averted, or overcome and destroyed, will at length open a passage to perfect union with God and enjoyment of him. Why should I detain you, to relate the dreams of vision aries, and the fables of impostors, respecting the manner in which God disposed of Enoch after his assumption? There is no edifica tion, and indeed but little amusement, in the bold fictions of a Mahomet, or the wild con jectures of a Jewish Rabbin. We acknow ledge no other paradise, or habitation of the blessed, but that represented in scripture, as the place where God gives the brightest evi dences of his gracious presence, and com municates his glory in full splendour. That, to which Jesus on the cross promised to con duct the penitent thief. That which Paul calls the third heaven : and which in other places of the Bible is denominated heaven, 'simply, and by way of excellency. Thither was Enoch taken; thither also did Elijah, two thousand one hundred and twenty-one years afterwards, mount on a chariot of fire, and the wings of a whirlwind ; and finally, thither at length, in placid majesty, ascended the Captain of our salvation, " leading cap tivity captive." Thus, in each of the three great periods ofthe church, was exhibited an instance ofa man taken up into heaven, body and spirit, as a support and encouragement to the hope of believers, of attaining the same felicity. Enoch before the law was given ; Elijah un der the legal economy ; and Jesus Christ, the Saviour of men, under the evangelical dis pensation. And God, in conducting these events, has gradually disclosed life, and im mortality, from the dawning of the morning light, to the full glory of meridian splendour. It was a soothing, and an animating spectacle for the faithful of the first world to see a good man vanish away, and after living his period on earth, in piety, purity, and peace, lodged, not in a tomb, but in the bosom* of God. It was yet a stronger presumption of immor tality, to those who lived in the second period to see the heavens opened for the reception of one of their prophets ; and celestial minis ters in flaming fire, not of anger, but of love, sent to conduct him to the place ofthe bless ed. But it is a demonstration to christians, and indeed the earnest and pledge of their inheritance, to see the great Author and Finisher of their faith, gradually and majes tically rising through those vast regions which separate earth from heaven; and to hear the church triumphant summoning the gates of the palace of glory to be opened, to receive the, King of Glory, on his cpming to prepare mansions of bliss for their reception, when the days of their probation are ended. " Such an High Priest became us, who", is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sh> ners, and made higher than the heavens." ¦* Enoch, Elijah, and Christ, in certain views, can be compared only with each other ; but in all things, he must have the pre-eminence. They prophesied through the power and vir tue of the spirit given unto them ; he is the giver of that spirit to them, and to all the prophets. As mere men, they must have had their infirmities, and the infirmities of one of them are upon record : but he knew infirmity only by a fellow feeling with the miserable, and he is the atonement for their sins. By the power and mercy of God, they were taken up into heaven ; by his own power he as cended on high; they as servants, he. as the eternal son of God. In them, we hatfe a re peated instance -of bodies glorified without^ suffering death ; he " was dead, and is alive < again," and carried to heaven a body which had been laid in the; tomb. In them we have an objectgf admiration- and astonishment; in him, a pattern *for .imitation, a Saviour in 28 HISTORY OF NOAH. [lect. vn. whom to trust, a ground of hope whereon to rest. Faith exempted them from death ; and faith shall at length redeem all the followers of the Lamb from the power of the grave. Enoch and Elijah ascended as solitary in dividuals; Christ as the first-fruits of them that sleep : and " lifted up," is drawing an elect world unto him. They were admitted to regions unknown, and among society un tried: he only returned to the place from whence he came. We conclude the History of Enoch with this obvious, but we trust, not useless reflec tion — That those lives which deserve most to be had in remembrance, are most easily recorded, and consist of fewest articles. The history of an Enoch is comprised in three words, while the exploits of an Alexander, a Csesar, or any other of the scourges and de stroyers of mankind, swell to many volumes. But what comparison is there between the bubble reputation, bestowed by historians, poets, or orators, on the worthless and the wicked ; and the solid, sterling praise con ferred on the wise and good, by the Spirit of God, by whom actions are weighed, and who will at last " bring every secret thing into judgment?" And wo be unto them, who love the praise of men more than the praise of God. Into what a little measure shrinks the whole history of mankind previous to the flood ; though a period of no less than one thousand six hundred and fifty-six years! To that great revolution of the world we are now brought; and the following Lecture, if God permit, will contain the first part of the his tory of Noah ; in whose person, the old and new worlds, through the vast chasm of the deluge, were connected together; and who is ex hibited in scripture as a type of Him, in whose person heaven and earth are united, and by whom all things are to be made new. May God bless what harbeen spoken. Amen. HISTORY OF NOAH. LECTURE VII. And Lamech lived an hundred eighty and two years, and begat a son : and he called his name Noah, saying, This same shall comfort us concerning our work and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord had cursed.— Genesis v. 28, 29. j^Phe fortunes and characters of men are various as their faces. What diversity has appeared in the lives, and in the latter end, Fo£ those persons whose history has already ^passed under our review, in the course of these Exercises ! Adam experienced a change more bitter than death. Abel perished by the hand of his brother. The murderer be comes a terror to himself, lives an exile, and dies Unnoticed. Enoch is gloriously exempt ed from the stroke of death, and carried di rectly to heaven. Noah survives the whole human race, his own family excepted ; lives to behold a world destroyed, a world restored. We are now arrived at that memorable re volution, of which there exists so many strik ing marks on the external appearance of the globe ; of which there are such frequent and distinct intimations in the traditional monu ments and records of all the learned nations uof antiquity ; and of which it has pleased God to give such an ample and circumstantial de tail in scripture. Concerning Noah,.gre^,t expectations were formed, from the moment of *his bjrth. The world was arrived at an uncommon pitch of corruption, and degeneracy. The natural evils which flesh is heir to, were prodigiously increased by irrelijgion and vice ; so that the earth groaned, as it were, under the curse of God, and the violence and impiety of men. Lamech, the father of Noah, with the fond ness and partiality of parental affection, flat ters himself that his new-born son would prove a comfort to himself, and a blessing to mankind ; and, most probably directed by the spirit of prophesy, bestows upon him a name significant of his future character and con duct ; of the station which he was to fill, and the purpose which he was to serve, in the destination of Providence. He had the satis faction of living to see his expectations real ized ; and his eyes closed in peace, at a good old age, five years before that great calamity which overwhelmed the human race — the deluge. Scripture accounts for the universal de pravity of that awful period, in these words; "And it came to pass when men began to multiply on the face ofthe earth, and daugh- ' ters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they werdi LECT. VII.] HISTORY OF NOAH. fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose."* These expressions the most respectable and judicious interpreters explain, as descriptive of unhallowed and imprudent intermarriages between the posterity of pious Seth, here called tlie " sons of God," and the female descendants of wicked Cain, denomi nated " the daughters of men." Attracted by external and transitory charms, they form alliances inconsistent with wisdom, and dis allowed of Heaven. The invention of the fine arts being in the family of Cain, it is not absurd to suppose, that these were called in aid to personal beauty ; and that the allure ments of music and dress in particular, were employed by the daughters of Jubal, " the father of all such as handle the harp and or gan," and of Tubal-Cain, " the instructer of every artificer in brass and iron," to support the impression already made by their feir looks. What ensued ? That which will always hap pen to piety unwisely and unequally yoking it self with irreligion and profanity; the evil principle being much more powerful to per vert the good, than the good to reform the evil. Giants are said to have been the issue of those unfortunate marriages; literally, per haps, men of huge stature, like the sons of Anak in latter times : certainly, men of lofty, aspiring, haughty minds: the heirs to the pride, vanity, and presumption of their mo thers, more than to the decency, wisdom, and piety, of their male ancestors. That corrup tion must have been general indeed, which comprehended all, save Noah and his house hold ; and it must have been very grievous, to constrain the Spirit of God to employ lan guage so strong and expressive as this, on the occasion : " And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart And the Lord said, I will destroy man, whom I have created, from the fece ofthe earth, both man and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air ; for it repenteth me that I have made them."f When the whole head is sick, and the whole heart feint, dissolution and destruction cannot be at a great distance. " But Noah was a just man, and perfect in his generations : and Noah walked with God." How honourable for Noah to stand thus single, thus distin guished ! Goodness supported and kept in countenance by the mode, and by multitudes, is amiable and praiseworthy; but goodness single and alone ; goodness stemming the torrent, resisting the contagion of example, despising the universal sneer, braving univer sal opposition, such goodness is superior to all praise: and such was the goodness of Noah. He distinguished himself in the midst of an adulterous and sinful generation, by his piety, righteousness, and zeal ; and God, who suffers none to lose at his hand, dis tinguishes him by special marks of his fa- *Gen. vi. 12. tGen.vi. 6,7. vour. " But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord."* Of no character does scripture speak more highly than of Noah's; " he was a just man, and perfect in his generations, and walked with God.". In general calamities, it must needs happen that the innocent suffer with the guilty. But in some cases, Providence is pleased specially to interpose for the deli verance of good men. Rather than one wor thy family should perish in the deluge, a whole world of transgressors is respited, till the means of safety for that family are pro vided. Is a sinful city or nation spared ? We may rest assured there are some valuable, pious persons among them. According to the idea suggested by our blessed Lord, the righteous are " the salt of the earth," that which seasons the whole mass, and preserves it from putrefaction and corruption. The apostle Peter styles Noah "a preacher of righteousness." He was not carried away by the prevailing profligacy of his day. He preached by a Tioly descent from the prevail ing maxims and practices of the times. He preached by an open and bold remonstrance against the general dissoluteness and impiety. And he preached at length by his works; by the construction and fitting up of the ark for the preservation of himself and family, and for saving alive a breed of the various sorts of fowls and animals. It is with pleasure we once more refer you to the sacred expositor of the antediluvian history : " by faith," says he, " Noah being warned of God of things not seen as yet, moved with fear, prepared an ark, to the saving of his house ; by the which he con demned the world, and became heir of the righteousness which is by faith."t He»,a crowd of ideas rush upon us at onee. w||e- hold the gre^at God in the midst of judgment remembering mercy. He will not destroy the righteous with the wicked. But God, will not vouchsafe to perform that immediate ly by a miracle, which may be effected by the blessing of his providence upon human foresight, industry, and diligence. He who was pleased to save Enoch, by translating him to heaven without tasting death, thought fit.to preserve Noah by means of an ark of his own building. The design and contri vance is God's ; the execution is man's. He who could have transported Noah to a differ ent sphere, and have lodged him there in safety, till the waters ofthe flood had abated, kept him alive and in safety, rolling in the ark, upon the fece of the mighty waters. He, who in the morning of the sixth day, by the almighty fiat, created at first the whole ani mal world, and though lost, could have in a' moment replaced it, by the word of his power, thought proper to preserve alive the race of animals, by providing a place of refuge, and * Gen vi. 8. f Heb- *'• 7t 30 HISTORY OF NOAH. [lect.- vii. by a special instinct of his providence, warn ing them of their approaching danger and conducting them to shelter. Behold, dreadful to think ! the patience of God at last exhausted : and the decree goes forth. " The earth also was corrupt before God : and tlie earth was filled with violence. And God looked upon the earth, and behold it was corrupt ; for all flesh had corrupted his way upon the earth. And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and behold I will destroy them with the earth."* God has warned, threatened, borne with men in vain, and Noah has preached to them in vain. The day of the Lord is come, and who shall be able to stand? And who hath seen, heard of, or is able to conceive a calamity so dreadful ? " The end of all flesh is come. I will destroy them with the earth." Immediately upon the fell, universal nature underwent a change. The mild influences of the heavens were changed or withheld ; the earth refused to yield her increase to the hand of the culti vator, but the full extent and awful import ofthe curse was never felt till now. By the deluge, the whole face of nature was to be altered ; the solid globe dissolved and dis jointed; its parts torn asunder from each other : its fertility diminished ; that it might present to all future generations, a magnifi cent palace, but in ruins : the mere skeleton of ancient splendour. Some ingenious men have supposed, that at this period, the position and motion of our earth, with respect to the sun, were changed : that till then it was so situated in relation to the heavenly bodies, as to possess an equal aiyL universal temperature of air ! that hi- thejto a perpetual spring went hand in hand with an abundant autumn : but that then it was placed in the slanting and oblique situ ation, which occasions diversity of climates and seasons; which exposes one part to the burning and direct rays of the sun : binds another up in perpetual chains of darkness and ice ; gives birth to volcanos, earthquakes, tempests, hurricanes, and all that tribe of na tural evils which afflict the wretched children of men. The effects, undoubtedly, must have been wonderful, as the event itself is altogether preternatural. I have no inten tion of going at present into a discussion of the question, whether the extent of the flood was universally over all the earth ; nor into a philosophical investigation of the means employed in producing a phenomenon so sin gular. Taking the Bible account of the mat ter in its literal import, we will rather make such reflections upon it as may, by the bless ing of God, promote the interests of faith and of holiness in our hearts and lives. Behold then, the venerable sag?, at the *.Gen. vi. 11— 13. admonition of Heaven, undertaking his great work. The foundation is laid: the fabric advances; and every stroke ofthe axe or ham mer summons a thoughtless and a guilty world to repentance : but " they will not hear, they will not lay it to heart." I see the good man, maligned, derided, insulted. In their gayety of heart, they scornfully style the ark, Noah's folly. The work is finished, but they con tinue to sing, dance, and play; and many, it is probable, have an active hand in the con struction of that machine, to which they scorn to resort for shelter from the impend ing danger. Noah is not to be diverted from' his purpose. Neither the immensity of the undertaking, nor the length of time which it required, nor the opposition which he meets with from an unbelieving generation, dis courage him in the prosecution of a design, planned by infinite wisdom, and recommend ed by divine mercy. How the whole tribe of commentators have gone into the opinion, that the space of one hundred and twenty years were em ployed in building the ark, is strange and un accountable. It appears not on the face of the history : it is irreconcilable to reason and experience : as without a miracle, the parts first constructed must have failed and decayed before the latter parts were finished : and it expressly contradicts the chronologi cal detail of the facts, as delivered to us in scripture. For Noah was five hundred years old at the birth of his eldest son. When the order for building the ark was given, all his three sons were married, as we learn from the following passage: "But with thee will I establish my covenant: and thou shalt come into the ark, thou, and thy sons, and thy wife, and thy sons' wives with thee."* The youngest, therefore, may reasonably be sup posed to have seen his fiftieth year ; and the flood came upon the earth in the six hun dredth year of Noah's life ; there is left, then, a period considerably less than fifty years, for the execution of the work ; and it most probably occupied a much shorter space than even that. Some minute inquirers have taken the trouble to calculate the solid contents, and thence to estimate the burthen of this won derful vessel. A cubit is the distance in a full grown man, from the elbow to the tip of the middle finger ; for the conveniency of cal culation, it has been fixed at a foot and a half of common measure. Upon this supposition, the ark contained one million, seven hun dred and eighty-one thousand, three hundred and forty-six cubical feet ; which, according to the usual allowance of .forty-two feet to a ton, or two thousand pounds weight, makes the whole burthen to be forty-two thousand four hundred and thirteen tons; which is considerably more than the burthen of forty » Gen.vi.18. LECT. VII.1 HISTORY OF NOAH. 31 ships of one thousand tons each. Such was the vast, unwieldy fabric, entrusted, without mast, sail, rudder, or compass, to the mercy ofthe waves; and which contained the saved remnant of the human race, and of the animal creation, with all necessary accommodation and provision for the space of more than a year. Behold the four-footed and the feathered tribes, each according to his kind, by a pecu liar instinct of Heaven, flocking to Noah, for protection from the threatening tempest, as formerly to Adam, to receive their names. The beasts take warning and hide themselves, but men, more stupid than the brutes, sin on, till they are destroyed. Every thing an nounced a storm gathering. Noah preaches to the last hour ; admonishes, entreats, threat ens, and invites. What means that preter natural gathering together of tlie brute crea tion to one place? How come they in a moment to change their nature ; to seek what before they shunned ; to forget all animosity towards each other ? Whence is it that " the wolf dwells with the lamb, the leopard lies down with the kid, and the young lion and the fetling together ?" What so brutish and incorrigible as men given up to their own lusts ! At length all is safely housed, from the dove to the raven, and God shuts in Noah with his charge. When lo! the face of hea ven is covered with blackness. Nature shud-r ders at the frown of an angry God — the win dows of heaven are opened; the rain descends amain : the barriers that confined the ocean to its appointed bed are removed, and the waters from beneath start up to meet the waters coming down from above, and join their streams to avenge a holy and righteous God of his adversaries. The gradual increase of the calamity is a dreadful aggravation of its horror. Thick clouds first gave the alarm. Rain uncommonly heavy, and of longer than ordinary continuance, increases the growing surprise and consternation. The voice of mirth is heard no more, and " all the daugh ters of music are brought low." By degrees the rivers swelling over their banks, and seas forgetting their shores, render the plains and the valleys no places of safety. But the lofty mountains will afford a refuge from the grow ing plague. Thither, in trembling hope, the wretches fly. The gathered tempest will surely spend itself) and serenity return. Ah, vain hope ! the swelling surge gains con tinually upon them ; all is become sea ; the foundations of the hills are shaken by the tide ; it advances upon them. As their last resource they climb the trees which cover the mountain tops, and cling to them in despair. Their neighbours and friends sink in the gulf before their eyes ! their ears are filled with the shrieks of them that perish. All is amazement and Wo. At length they are all overtaken and overwhelmed. To have length ened their miserable existence so long by vain efforts, is only to have lengthened out an guish. To fill up the measure of their misery, they perish in sight of a place of security which they cannot reach ; they perish with the bitter remorse of haying despised and re jected the means of escape, when they had them in their power ; like the rich man in hell, whose torment was grievously augment ed, by the sight of Lazarus afar off in the bo som of Abraham. Compare with these, the feelings of Noah and his. little family within the ark.' They enjoy a refuge of God's providing. They have full assurance of the divine protection. Ample provision for the evil day is made. O what gratitude to their Almighty Friend! O what fervent love among themselves ! O what holy composure and rest in God ! O what awful reflections on the justice and severity of the great Jehovah ! O what sweet and satisfying meditations on his mercy ! The sequel of Noah's history, and the com parison between him and Adam, and between him and Christ, will, if God permit, be the subject of the next Lecture. We cannot conclude the present without reflecting On the danger and mischief which arises from forming graceless connexions. It admi nisters a solemn and suitable admonition to the male part of my audience, who have not already contracted alliances for life, to consi der a principle of religion, and a taste for de votion, as among the leading qualities to be sought after in the female character, and the only sure foundation of honourable and lasting friendship ; as the basis of, and the prompter to every domestic duty. It administers a just, and, I am sorry to ,. add, a seasonable reproof, to that spiriflf.of ' ; avarice and selfishness, together with that criminal love of pleasure, which too muchw characterise the young men of the present day, and to which the higher considerations of piety, modesty, and accomplishments really useful and ornamental, are daily sacrificed. It instructs my female hearers, too,, in the knowledge of what constitutes their real worth and excellence. "Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain : but a woman that feareth the Lord she shall be praised."* General de- claimers against the female sex have got excellent topics for their spleen, in the se duction of the first man by Eve, and the cor ruption of the old world by the daughters of Cain. I would make a kinder use of these sad events, by considering them as instances of the great power which women have over men ; and' hence earnestly call upon Chris tian women, to cultivate with care and dili gence the graces of that character, and to employ their influence, according ,to their different relations and opportunities, to dif- * Proverbs xxxi. 30. 32 HISTORY OF NOAH. [lECT. fuse a taste for what is decent, pious, and praiseworthy ; and they may rest assured that their friends of the other sex will at least study to appear, what they would have them to be. The example of Noah is a loud call to aim at singular goodness. The multitude of offenders lessens neither the criminality, nor the danger of any one. Let none then think of " following a multitude to do evil." Com munity in vice may seem to diminish the guilt of sin, but community in suffering, is a bitter aggravation of it. Dare to stand, though alone, in the cause of God and truth ; know ing that wicked men themselves revere that goodness which they do not love, and secretly approve the virtue which they will not culti vate. Remember who hath said, " Whoso- . ^re men, him will I ever shall confess me bet.2* tner -which is in confess also before my ' * hU deny me before heaven. But whosoever su men, him will I also deny uc J which is in heaven." , t , .; „ ., You have heard of the destruction of the old world by water ; your eyes shall behold that which now is, destroyed by fire. The preservation of Noah, by means which God appointed, is a striking type of the method of salvation from sin, death, and hell, by Je sus Christ. The present day of merciful visitation, is the precious season of resorting to that stronghold and place of defence; and to you the call is once more given, " look to me and be saved ;" " come to me, all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." HISTORY OF NOAH. LECTURE VIII. And God remembered Noah, and every living thing, and all the cattle that was with him in the ark : and God made a wind to pa6S over the earth, and the waters assuaged. — Genesis viii. 1. The word and the providence of God are the only infallible interpreters of his nature. The existence, and the order of the visible creation, evince the being of one Eternal Cause of all things, infinite in wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, mercy, and truth. But the harmony, the extent and limits ofthe divine attributes and perfections, are to be discovered only by observing what comes to pass ; and by reading and understanding what rGod has been pleased to commit to writing, for our instruction. The light of nature is sufficient, for example, to instruct us, that God is righteous ; and experience assures us, that he is merciful ; but without the help of revelation, and the history of providence, we could not, we durst not say, where justice would stop, and when the tide of mercy would begin to flow. And is it not pleasant and en couraging to reflect, upon the authority of both scripture and experience, that justice, the awful and formidable perfection of the most high God, has its bounds ; whereas good ness and tender mercy swell over all limits, possessing a height and depth, a length and breadth, which surpass knowledge ? Justice, is the river confined within its banks, and terminating its course in the sea ; mercy, the unconfined, immeasurable ocean, in survey ing the vast extent of which, the eye fails, and thought itself is lost. It is, moreover, de lightful to consider, that the very judgments of Heaven, however dreadful in their nature and effects, are, upon the whole, and in the end, unspeakable blessings. The wrath of man, and judgments of which men are the authors, like the uncontrolled rage of devour ing flames, spare nothing; they consume root and branch together. But divine justice, like the refiner's fire, lays hold only of the dross, and bestows on the remaining ore greater purity and value. The history of the deluge, among many other instances which might be adduced, is a plain and a striking illustration of these ob servations. The last Lecture exhibited the fearful triumph of divine justice. We beheld heaven from above, the earth and ocean from beneath, uniting their forces in their Maker's cause ; " the windows of heaven opened," the " fountains Of the great deep broken up," blending their waters, to overwhelm a world of ungodly men. What a prospect did this globe then present to the surrounding spheres; Involved m gross darkness for forty days to gether : and when the light returns, no dry land appears, for even " all the high hills which were under the whole heaven were covered :" And O, tremendous object of di vine vengeance ! " All flesh died, that moved upon the earth, both of fowl, and of cattle, ana ot beasts, and of every creeping- thing that creepeth upon the earth, and every man. All, in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the dry land, died And every living substance was destroyed which LECT. vm.] HISTORY OF NOAH. 33 was upon the face of tlie ground, both man, and cattle, and the creeping things, and the fowl of the heaven ; and they were destroyed from tlie earth : and Noah only remained alive, and they that were with him in the ark."* " It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of tlie living God." At length the tempest of wrath spends it self. At length, after a night so dark, so dreary, and so long, the morning light begins to dawn. Nothing but water is to be seen, except yonder little bark floating on the mighty surge, which threatens every moment to swallow it up, or to dash it impetuously on some rocky mountain's top. " It contains the sad remainder of the human race ; the hope of all future generations. It is preserved, not by the power of him who constructed, but of him who designed it, artd who directed it to be built. It is guided, not by the skill of the mariner, but steered by the hand of Providence.' That a vessel of such con struction, should preserve its upright position for so long a time, in such a wild uproar of nature, must be ascribed to a perpetual super natural interposition. The ark has proved the protection and pre servation of Noah ; but is it not his prison also ? How gladly do we submit to a tempo rary inconveniency for the sake of a great and lasting good ! But the inconveniencies, to which we submit in fulfilling the designs of Providence, shall not be prolonged beyond their needful period, nor increased beyond our strength. What an amiable view of the mercy and condescension of God is presented to us at this period of Noah's history ! " O, Lord, thou preservest man and beast !" And " doth God take care for oxen ?" " God re membered Noah, and every living thing, and all the cattle that was with him in the ark : and God made a wind to pass over the earth, and' the waters assuaged." He who makes sphere to balance on sphere, in the great sys tem of nature, can make one element check, and control the rage of another, in the subor dinate economy of our little globe. Wind stops the progress, and diminishes the fury of water at God's command. The dominion of any one element prevailing too long must soon prove fatal to the whole; but their powers blending with, opposing, balancing each other, produce that wonderful and de lightful harmony, on which the being and the happiness of mankind depend. " The waters prevailed one hundred and fifty days, and after the end of them, they were abated." According to the best chronological calcu lations, the different eras or stages of this great event, adapted to our reckoning of time, are thus fixed. A few days after the death of Methuselah, the Son of Enoch, who was born two hundred and forty-three years hefore Adam, died, and in whose person, of * Gen. vii. 21—21. E course, tlie creation of the world and tlie flood seemed almost to meet ; I say, a few days after Methuselah's death, God com manded Noah, on-tlie tenth day of tlie second month, answering to the thirtieth of Novem ber, in tlie year of the world one thousand six hundred and fifty-six, and before Christ two thousand three hundred and forty-eight, to prepare that week for going into the ark, and to receive all the living creatures which came thither by direction of Providence, in tlie course of seven days. On the seventeenth day of the second month, or the seventh of December, in the six hundredth year of Noah's life, the deluge began, after the Lord had shut him in with all his family. The rain from heaven, and the flux from the ocean, continued without intermission, forty days, and forty nights, till the waters prevailed fifteen cubits above the highest mountains; and then stayed, on the seventeenth of January. It continued flood one hundred and fifty days, including the forty days from its commencement to its full height ; that is, to the seventeenth day of the seventh month, or the sixth of May, when the flood abated, and the ark rested upon one of the mountains of Arrarat or Armenia. On the first day of the tenth month, or July nineteenth, the waters still continuing to de crease, the tops of the neighbouring moun tains became visible from the ark. At the end of forty days from thence, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, or thp twenty- eighth of August, Noah opened the window of the ark, and sent forth' the raven, which never returned to him. After expecting her for seven days in vain, on the third of Sep tember, he sent forth the dove, which re turned to him the same day, having found no rest for the sole of her foot, through the con tinuance of the waters. After seven days more, on the tenth of September, he again sends forth the dove, which returned in the evening, with an olive leaf in her mouth, a proof that the waters had decreased below the height of that plant. After waiting yet seven days more, Noah again sends forth the dove, on September seventeenth, which re turned not again to him, a proof that " the ground was dry," and that this bird could now find food to sustain life, out of the ark.. On the first day of the first month, answer ing to October the twenty-third, in the year of the world one thousand six hundred and fifty-seven, when Noah entered into the six hundred and first year of his age, on this first day of the new world, he removed the covering of the ark, and beheld that the ground was dry. And finally, on the twenty- seventh of the second month of this new year, or December the eighteenth, at God's command, who had shut him in, Noah came out of tlie ark, and all who were with him, in perfect safety ; after they had been con- 34 HISTORY OF NOAH. [lect. viii. fined therein the space of one year and eleven days. And now that he is liberated from so long confinement, what are his first sentiments ; what is the first use he makes of restored liberty? It is neither a day of business, nor of pleasure, for himself, but of piety and gra titude towards God. A portion of the ani mals, hitherto cherished and protected with so much care and tenderness ; and preserved in the general wreck of nature, must yield their lives, and pour out their blood by their patron's hand, at God's altar. Was not this a direct acknowledgment, that his own life was forfeited with those of the rest of man kind; but spared by an act of distinguishing grace? "^he stock of living creatures was awfully reduced by the deluge ; and this con sideration, with a worldly and selfish mind, might have been pleaded as an excuse for delaying sacrifice till victims were multiplied by length of time. But when works of piety, charity, or mercy, are to be performed, a gracious spirit considers the urgency of the call, rather than the largeness of means. What is saved from God and the wretched, from religion and humanity, will never make any one rich. What is bestowed on works of piety and mercy, is property laid out at more than common interest. Did Noah's six couple of beasts, and of birds, increase more slowly, that the seventh was devoted in sa crifice to his Maker and Preserver ? I sup pose not. In this, if in any sense, what the wise man says, is true, " there is that scatter- eth and yet aboundeth ; there is that with- holdeth more than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty." O how acceptable to God are the sacrifices of an humble, grateful, faithful heart ! The ground that was cursed for the offence of one, and deluged for the offences of many, by tho faith and piety of one is de livered from the curse, and forever secured from the danger of a second flood : " And the Lord smelled a sweet savour ; and the Lord said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground for man's sake ; for the imagina tion of man's heart is evil from his youth ; neither will I again smite any more every living thing, as, I have done."* Having satisfied the demands, and received the consolations of religion, Noah and his sons are dismissed of God to their secular employments, to the possession and cultiva tion of their spacious inheritance. All the grants which had been given to the first man, and all the blessings pronounced upon him are renewed to Noah and his family.- The whole, animal creation is afresh subjected to their power and authority. And now, for the first time, we read of tlie flesh of animals being permitted unto man for food. But, in the very same breath, the use of blood is for bidden to mankind. Was it intended to ad- * Gen. viii. 21. monish men to be tender of the lives of the brute creation ; and not to take away, wan tonly and unnecessarily, what they are un able to restore ? Was it to teach men not to use as common food, what was, from the be ginning, the symbol of atonement ? Is it that the thing prohibited is unfit and unwhole some for aliment? Was it, by placing a fence round that which constitutes the life of a beast, to guard, with the greater sanctity, the life of man? The interdiction undoubtedly has a meaning, for none of the precepts of God are merely arbitrary. Wherever he in terposes by a special mandate, there we may rest assured, some end of piety, of purity, or of mercy, is to be accomplished by it. God never communicates his grace by halves. He is but lialf preserved, who has escaped one great calamity, if he must after wards live in perpetual fear. Noah's family has outlived the deluge: but every dark cloud is a memorial of that grievous plague, and a threatening of its return. Every wa tery cloud, therefore, with the sun in opposi tion to it, shall be an assurance, written in the most distinct characters, to them and all generations of men following, that " the wa ters shall no more become a flood to destroy ajl flesh." The bow in the clouds existed no doubt before this ; the natural cause al ways and uniformly must produce tlie same effect ; but it has now a use and a meaning unknown before. It formerly manifested in its most beautiful colours, stupendous size, and exact shape and form, the God of nature ; now it has become a witness for the God of grace. It was always an object beautiful to behold ; but O, how much greater its excel lence and importance, as the token of God's . covenant '. When natural appearances lead to saving acquaintance with nature's God, then they are truly valuable and useful. We are now come to the last memorable event of Noah's life ; which, though fer less honourable for him than those which preceded it, the sacred historian has nevertheless re corded, with the same exactness and fidelity, which he has employed in transmitting the rest of his history. Noah, though advanced to a late period in life, and assured that hence forth the duration of human life was to be greatly abridged, engages with alacrity in the labours of husbandry. That God who thought fit to save him from the flood, by an ark of his own building, will not preserve him alive, but by fruits of his own raising. He who would reap the clusters of the vine, must first plant, shelter, prop, and prune the vine. But behold the juice of the grape in a new state ; possessing a quality unheard of before. Eaten from the tree, or dried in the sun, it is simple and nutritious like the grain from the stalk of corn ; pressed out and fermented, it acquires a fiery force, it warms the blood, it mounts to the brain, it LECT. VIII.} HISTORY OF NOAH. 35 leads reason captive, it overpowers every faculty, it triumphs over its lord. How often have arts been invented, which have proved fetal to the inventors ? Every poison, it is said, contains, or is produced contiguous to, its an tidote. Such is the care, such the goodness of God to men. But alas ! must it not also be observed, that our very food and cordials contain a poison, through the ignorance or excess of man. Was Noah unacquainted with this intoxicating quality of wine, and overtaken through inexperience ! Or did the faithful monitor of the old world, and the father of the new, deliberately sacrifice de cency and understanding to this insinuating foe ? In either case, who can help deploring his shameful, his degraded condition ; and the consequences which flowed from it ! We pity the dishonoured father ; but we detest the unnatural son who could make sport of his parent's shame. He who intoxicates him self does ill; but he who in cool blood, can take an indecent, or an injurious advantage of the intoxication of another, does worse. The modesty and dutifulness of two of Noah's sons, exhibit a lovely and instructive exam ple to youth ; their ingenuous shame, their eagerness to conceal the infirmity of their father. They deserve to be blessed with nu merous and thriving families, who have prac tised duty and obedience to their parents. This accordingly is the blessing entailed upon Shem and Japhet ; and Ham's disre spectful and indecent behaviour towards his father, is in like manner, punished in the en tail of a lasting and heavy curse upon his offspring. Of all the precepts of the law, the fifth most obviously, directly, and cer tainly, requites the breach or the observance of itself Noah awakes from his wine, and meets the reproof of his intemperance, in the knowledge of what his sons had done unto him, when he was not himself. And what reproof so keen and severe to an in genuous mind like his, as the reflection, that he had made himself an object of scorn and derision to one part of his own family, and of sorrow and pity to the other. At -length the period arrives that Noah must die; and he who had seen the world in three different states, as it came from the hands of the Creator, unless as it was affect ed by the fell — covered over with the waters of a flood — and restored again through the mercy of Heaven, at last sinks into the grave, and ceases to have any farther interest in the world. He survives that great destruction, the deluge, three hundred and fifty years ; lives to instruct a new race of men in the knowledge, the love, and the worship of the true God ; lives to see his progeny increased and multiplied, and spreading on every side; lives to exhibit to a short-lived race of mor tals an example of patriarchal dignity and longevity; and dies at the age of nine hun dred and fifty years; short of the life of Me thuselah only by nineteen. From that period, the life of man began gradually to decrease, till it shrunk into its present little measure. Whether life be long or short, " death cer tainly is the end of all men, and the living should lay it to his heart." Noah and Adam may be compared and con trasted in various respects. Adam the father ofthe first world ; Noah ofthe second. Adam, by one wilful transgression, involved all man kind in ruin; Noah, by many repeated efforts, in vain endeavoured to save mankind from impending destruction. The unbelief and dis obedience of Adam affected all; the faith of Noah preserved a remnant. The grant of the whole globe was conferred on these two alone, -of all mankind. For the crime of the one, the earth was cursed ; through the sacrifice ofthe other, the curse was withdrawn. In both, their own ill behaviour was punished in the ill conduct and behaviour, and in the punish ment of their children. Upon the guilty son of Adam, God pronounces sentence, and ex ecutes judgment in person : the injured fa ther himself, in the case of Noah, is made the minister of wrath to denounce the ven geance of God upon his own guilty son. Adam and Noah were both distinguished types of Christ ; and from this they derive their chief dignity and importance. Some in terpreters, who wish to find out an evangeli cal meaning to every the minutest circum stance in the sacred records of the Old Tes tament, have alleged, that the import of the names of the antediluvian patriarchs, taken , in their order, contain a prophesy ofthe Mes siah: with which I shall present you, rather as discovering an honest zeal for the preva lency of gospel ideas, than as containing a solid and satisfactory argument, in support of gospel truth. Blessed be God, our most holy faith is built on a broader, surer, and more immoveable foundation than the uncer tain and arbitrary interpretation of a few He brew names. But the speculation is at least innocent, and may perhaps have afforded some degree of consolation to the pious minds which have adopted it. The explanation of the names alluded to, is this. Adam, man : Seth, placed : Enos, in misery : Cainan, la mentable: Mahalaleel, the blessed God: Ja red, shall come : Enoch, teaching: Methuse lah, that death shall send : Lamech, to the smitten, or miserable : Noah, consolation. — But we are fully warranted, by many clear, indubitable, and explicit applications of scrip ture, " to preach the unsearchable riches of the gospel of Christ," from the history of Noah. Shall I encroach upon your patience, and proceed to it now ? or implore your can dour for an attentive hearing of it, extended to its proper length, and displayed in its mi nuter circumstances, in a future lecture ? I must trespass no longer jipon the former; but 36 NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. [lect. rather trust to the latter. And the more, that I cannot but wish both preacher and hearers might bring freshness of spirits, pa tience of attention, and thirst of improve ment, to a subject of first-rate importance in the scale of divine truth. And now may He who, by an ark of Gopher-wood, saved Noah and his household from a deluge of water, deliver us, by the grace of his Son Christ Jesus, from that more dreadful de luge of fire, which scripture assures us shall come upon the "world of the ungodly." " Flee now to your strong hold, ye prison ers of hope: — behold now is the accepted time, behold now is the day of salvation." — To the God of mercy, through the Son of his love, be ascribed immortal praise. — Amen. NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. LECTURE IX. For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath 1 hid ray face from thee, for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. For this is as the waters of Noah unto me; For as I have sworn that the wa ters of Noah should no more go over the earth: so have I sworn that I would not be wroth with thee, nor rebuke thee. For 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. — Isaiah liv. 7 — 10. As the lesser streams fall into, and are mixed with the greater; and as all the rivers empty themselves, and are lost in the ocean ; so the whole course of events, from the cre ation of the world, in their separate currents, and in their general and combined tide, flows towards one grand era, styled in scripture, the fulness of time ; and terminates in one event, of infinitely greater moment than all the rest, the " manifestation of the Son of God in the flesh." The patriarchal dignity, prophetic foreknowledge and penetration, the sanctity of the priesthood, and the regal ma jesty, all point out, all move towards, all cen tre, and settle in Him, who is " the everlast ing Father," "the Prophet who should arise," " the Apostle and High Priest of our profes sion," the " Prince of the kings of the earth." We are struck with a pleasing awe when we converse with the venerable men who lived before the flood. Adam, the first of men ; Enoch, who walked with God ; Noah, the preserver and restorer ofthe human race. But in tracing the history of their lives, a still small voice continually whispers us in the ear, saying, A greater than Adam, a greater than Enoch, a greater than Noah is' here : a voice from heaven proclaims, sinners, attend; "Behold my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him." Some, with more zeal and honesty, than wisdom and truth, have laboured to discover and to esta blish a resemblance between our blessed Lord and those who were types of him, in every the minutest circumstance of then- lives, and in every expression they employ to describe their private, and personal feel ings and situations. This has been carried so far as to strain and stretch the penitential language of David, in the fifty-first psalm, respecting the matter of Uriah, into expres sions suitable to the character and condition of the Messiah, in certain supposed circum stances. Guarding ourselves against every thing like a forded1 construction and applica tion of scripture ; without hunting after fan ciful resemblances, which tend to weaken and impair the truth, instead of strengthen ing and supporting it, we will endeavour carefully to point out and improve those which actually exist ; namely, such as the Spirit of God directs us to form, by pointing them out to us in the written word ; or such as by fair analogy, that is, from known and admitted facts, or from obvious and incontro vertible reasonings, we are warranted to form for ourselves. Happily, the History of Noah is one of those, in the use and application of which, scripture has lent us much assistance. The very name of that patriarch was not given him without a meaning and design, which extended much farther than to his person, and the day in which he lived. " This same," said his pious father, " shall comfort us con cerning our work and toil of our hands, be cause of the ground which the Lord hath cursed."* Noah signifies comfort, rest, peace. And when God is bringing his first begotten into the world, this is his proclamation by the mouth of his prophet, " Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, * Genesis v. 29. LECT. IX.] NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. 37 that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned : for she hath received of the Lord's hand double for all her sins."* And that we may be at no loss to what pe riod, and to what person these expressions are to be applied, it immediately follows, " The voice of him that crieth in the wilder ness, Prepare ye the way ofthe Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low : and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain. And tlie glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it,"f Was Noah an expected de liverer from the curse pronounced upon the ground for man's disobedience ? Alas ! tho curse continued nevertheless ; nay, the very blessings of life become accursed to every impenitent transgressor : but Christ " is our peace, who has redeemed us from the curse," not of the ground, but of the law, " being made a curse for us ;" and under whose do minion, when finally established, " there shall be no more curse." "Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord ;" and of Christ he saith, " Behold my servant whom I uphold, mine elect in whom my soul delighteth." "Noah was a just man, and perfect in his generations :" and of whom speaks the prophet, when he saith, " he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth ?" and the Apostle, " who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth ?" and again, " such an High Priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners." Noah was a preacher of righteousness; and the spirit of prophesy puts these words into the mouth ofthe Mes siah himself, " I delight to do thy will, O my God; yea, thy law, is within my heart. I have preached righteousness in the great congregation : I have not refrained my lips, O Lord, thou knowest. I have not hid thy righteousness within my heart, I declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation : I have not concealed thy loving kindness, and thy truth, from the great congregation."! Noah preached, and preached in vain, to a corrupt ed, hardened generation, ripe for the de struction ofa flood ; Jesus, with similar mor tification and regret, preached to an impeni tent, incorrigible nation, devoted to destruc tion by means of a Roman army. " Noah walked with God :" Christ says of himself, " I and my Father are one ;" and " my meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work." But Noah, though right eous, could not by that righteousness, save the men of his generation from the judg ments of God : his faith and holiness availed himself, and those who with him feared, be lieved, and prepared; but could not save * Isa. xl. 1, 2. t IM. *'• 3-5- t Ps. xl- 8-10. ' another : and there is a supposed state of corruption so great, and a day of vengeance so awful, that though these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, were in the land, they should deliver but their own souls by their righteousness : but the righteousness of the blessed Redeemer is of such infinite value and perfection, as to deliver, from spiritual and eternal death, an innumerable multi tude of transgressors. But the most memorable incident in the history of Noah's; life, was the " building of the ark for the saving of his house." Every circumstance relating to which, exhibited a figure of him who was to come. And first, they exactly coincide in respect of the de sign or contrivance. The plan of the ark was formed in the eternal mind, long before it was communicated to Noah ; thus believers are " chosen of God in Christ before the foun dation of the world." To human apprehen sion at first sight, and to human understand ing enlightened by experience, and the astonishing improvements made in naval architecture, a vessel of such construction would be far from appearing the likeliest means of preservation from a calamity like the deluge. Not a seaman or ship-builder in Britain, but would pronounce it a clumsy piece of work, would affirm it could not pos sibly live at sea, and predict its foundering in the deep, even without the attack of a storm. Thus " the cross was to the Jews, a stumbling-block, and to the. Greeks foolish ness ; but to them who believe, Christ is the power of God, and the wisdom of God." We read of no other methods of safety being thought of, or attempted, by the thoughtless men of the antediluvian world. When the evil overtook them, they would naturally flee to such wretched refuge as despair pointed out ; but whatever other means of salvation, in the great and terrible day ofthe Lord, human imagination may have devised, the sdripture saith expressly, " Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved :"* and un availing, in that day, will be the desponding invocations of impenitent sinners, to " the rocks to fall upon them, and to the hills to cover them from the presence of God, and the wrath of the. Lamb." As the ark was a type of the Messiah, being both designs of infinite wisdom ; so do they also coincide in the end or purpose to which they were destined, the salvation of those who fled, and who flee thither for re fuge: " Noah prepared an ark for the saving of his house ;" ana " God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not pe rish, but have everlasting life :"f and " after that, in the wisdom of God, tlie world by * Acts iv. 12. , t John iii. 16. 4 38 NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. [lect. IX. wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe."* Both of them fully and perfectly answer the end of their institution. The ark was at once a place of shelter from the storm ; contained all necessary accommodation and provision; furnished opportunity and means of the most delightful communion and fel lowship; and constituted the dearest bond of union and love. Who does not see in this, that wonderful person of whom prophesy thus speaks, " A man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest : as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land."f In whom " it has pleased the Father that all fulness should dwell ;" of whom " the whole family in heaven and earth is named ;" who thus declares in his own person, " those that thou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost," who enjoins them to " love one another," and prays for them, that " they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us." The attractive influence of the gospel, and its blessed tendency to tame and subdue the high thoughts, and savage dispositions ofthe human heart, were beautifully prefigured by the instinctive call of Providence to the brute creation to seek shelter in the ark, and by the placability and gentleness of their dispo sitions towards each other while they con tinued in it. The words of Isaiah are lite rally a history of the deluge, and they contain a prediction equally beautiful and striking, of the peaceableness and concord of Christ's kingdom ; " 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. And the cow and the bear shall feed ; their young ones shall lie down together ; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the, asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice's den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain ; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters co ver the sea." j Under the influence of Christ's spirit, the fierce and the proud, the cruel and the resentful, the envious and the passionate, " put on as the elect of God, holy and be loved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humble ness of mind, meekness, long-suffering ;" and learn to "forbear one' another, to forgive one another." Again ; the figure shifting from the arlt, to him who built and constructed it, accord ing to the pattern given him of God, Noah himself becomes the type and Jesus the per son typified. The plan or design of the ark was of God ; the execution was Noah's ; in * lCor. i. 21. t Isaiah xxxii. 2, t Isaiah xi. 0—9. like manner, the plan of redemption, which was formed of old, even from everlasting, God was at length manifested in the flesh to execute, and in it he laboured and persever ed, till bowing his head, " it , is finished." What shall we say ? The very waters of the flood have a figurative prospect of gospel times and gospel ideas. The deluge was a purifier of the old world, corrupted and de filed by sin ; and " a few, that is, eight souls, were saved by water ;" the antitype of which remarkable event, we are informed by the apostle Peter, is our salvation by baptism ; " The like figure whereunto even baptism doth also now save us, (not the putting away of the filth of the flesh, but the answer of a good conscience towards God) by the resur rection of Jesus Christ."* When we behold the same element destructive to one and salu tary to another, are we not led to think of that doctrine which is " unto God a sweet savour of Christ, in them that are saved and in them that perish ? to the one it is a savour of death unto death, and to the other, a sa vour of life unto life ;" and of that other under which the Baptist represents the power and coming of the Son of God ? " Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the gar ner : but he will burn up the chaff with un quenchable fire."f The wind or spirit which passed over the earth, and assuaged the waters, points out to us not obscurely, the power of that Divine Spirit, who in the beginning "moved upon the face of the deep," and reduced chaos into order and beauty; and who, through the whole course of Providence " sitteth upon the flood;" even "the Lord on high, who is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." Is it not sweetly figurative of that dawn of hope, that proclamation of mercy, before which the tide of wrath begins to ebb and to subside ? 1 The figure of the dove declares its own meaning and import. In the natural purity and innocence of that sweet bird ; in her go ing and returning ; in the expressive speed of her first excursion; in the expressive symbol she bore in her mouth at her second return, the olive-leaf; in the clear and ex plicit information conveyed by her not re turning again the third time, it is impossible not to observe a prefiguration of the purity and innocence ofthe Holy Jesus, the Media tor between God and man. " How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that pub lisheth salvation !" " Lo, the winter is post, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time ofthe singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land." As the state of the world was * 1 Peter iii. 21. t Matth. iii. 12. LECT. IX.] NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. 89 gradually unfolded to Noah by tlie different appearances and conduct of his dove; so was the plan of redemption by Jesus Christ gra dually disclosed to the world, in types, in allegories, and by predictions, till the morn ing light at length became perfect day, and "God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners, spoke in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last daysspoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, hy whom also he made the worlds."* As the ark, after the tossings and tempest of the flood, rested safely on the top of Mount Ararat ; so Christ, having suffered all things that were appointed, "entered into his glory," and established the faith of them that believe in him upon " a rock, against which the gates of hell never shall prevail." The ark afford ed protection to those only who fled for shel ter under its roof, and whom God shut up within it. It was not merely the sight of that wonderful fabric, nor the knowledge and approbation of the plan, nor an active hand in the rearing of it, nor an external adhe- rance to it, when the evil day came, that afforded safety to the miserable. Our Lord himself furnishes us with the application of these important circumstances. " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall en ter into the kingdom of heaven : but he that doth the will of my Father Which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name ? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then Will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity, "t And impressed with an awful sense of it, Paul says of himself, " I there fore so run, not as uncertainly : so fight I, not as one that beateth the air; but I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preach ed to others, I myself should be a cast away." J Farther : when we see Noah at the altar of God, offering the sacrifices of thanksgiving, presenting a victim of every clean bird, and beast, and God smelling a savour of rest ; ceasing from his anger, remitting the curse, and establishing a new covenant upon better promises, we " behold the Lamb of God who taketh, away the sins ofthe world." Christ, the altar that is erected, the priest who offi ciates, and the victim which is offered up. We behold provision made for the remission of transgressions committed under the second covenant, for which there was no remedy under the first. The passage on which this discourse is, built,, is a full and particular illustration of this. The whole chapter re fers to the bringing in ofthe Gentile nations to the standard of the Messiah. " For thy Maker is thine husband [the Lord of Hosts is * Heb. i. 1, 2. t Mat. vii. 21—23. 1 1 Cor. ix. 26, 27. his name] and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel ; tlie God ofthe whole earth shall he be called. For the Lord has called thee as a woman forsaken, and grieved in spirit, and a wife of youth, when thou wast refiised, saith thy God. For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment ; but with everlast ing kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. For this is as the waters of Noah unto me : for as I have swom that the waters of Noah should no more go over the earth ; so have I sworn that I would not be wroth with thee, nor rebuke thee. For 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."* Expressions beautifully figurative of the strength, beauty, and dura tion of the Christian church, and of the im moveable foundation on which the Christian faith is built. Finally, the rainbow, the token of God's covenant of peace with the earth, produced, in the course of nature, by the rays of the sun falling on a cloud impregnated with rain ; without straining for a similitude, exhibits mercy rejoicing over judgment; the rays of the sun of righteousness reflected from and dispersing the clouds of divine wrath and human guilt. It represents the dispense tions ofthe Most High towards men, as dis tinguished from those spiritual beings who never sinned, and those who never shall be saved. In hell, the gloom is not for a single instant dispelled by one beam of light, nor despair relieved by one ray of hope. The serenity of heaven is never obscured by one frown from the face of God. But our world is the theatre, on which are displayed, " mer cy and truth meeting together, righteousness and peace kissing each other ;" " truth springing out ofthe earth, and righteousness looking down from heaven." The bow in the cloud is the reverse of that described by the Psalmist: "He hath bent his bow and mode it ready, he hath also prepared for him the instruments of death : he ordaineth his arrows against the persecutors."! No, it is a bow unbent, armed with no deadly weapon, and its dangerous, threatening side averted from us, and turned towards heaven. The bow is never to be seen but when one side ofthe heaven is clear, and the sun above the horizon ; unless it be hy the sober, silver rays of the moon's mild, reflected light. Thus every thing useful and pleasing in nature, every thing satisfying and consolatory in providence, in order to be perceived and en joyed, must be irradiated, explained, and ap plied, by the eternal Wisdom, the Word of God, " the true Light which enlighteneth * Isaiah liv. 5-10. t Psalm vii. 12, 13. 40 NOAH AND CHRIST COMPARED. [lect. IX. every man who cometh into the world ;" and thus many of the objects which we are inca pable of contemplating, by the direct and imniediate illumination ofthe glorious " Fa ther of Lights," are tempered to our percep tion, use, and delight, by reflection from other orbs. " No man hath seen God at any time. The only begotten Son who is in the bosom ofthe Father he hath declared him." Thus have we endeavoured to point out those particulars in the person, character, and life of Noah, which seem more obvious ly typical of Christ the Lord ; but I cannot conclude tlie parallel, without directing your thoughts to one article of resemblance more. The old world having undergone the purga tion ofa flood, was delivered in its renewed state to Noah and his natural posterity for a possession : and from the world that is, when purified by fire, " We, according to his pro mise, look for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness." " He that sitteth upon the throne saith, Behold I make all things new! for the former things are passed away." And he that is before the throne saith, " In my father's house are many mansions ! if it were not so I would have told you : I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be also. And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know." " Blessed is he who shall eat bread in the kingdom of God." " Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." Let me now exhort you in the words of Christ, " Search the scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they tes tify of Him, who is Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end ;" ;and as you read and meditate, the light will hreak in upon you, and the Saviour of the ¦world will stand confessed in every page, in .every line ; so that ye may say one to another, in the words of Andrew to Simon his brother, ¦" We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ." And when you see all that is venerable in respect of antiquity, ;all that is sacred in office, all that is dignified in royalty, bringing their glory and honour to him, lay yourselves at his feet, and say, " he is our Lord and we will worship him ; for "surely this is the Son of God." And here closes the first great period of the world. There next ensues a very con siderable space of time, fruitful indeed in names, but barren in events. Providence has thought fit to draw a veil over it for this obvious reason, that however amusing or in structive the detail of that period might be to us, as citizens of this world, having no spe cial relation to the history of redemption, it cannot be very deeply interesting to us as Christians. And the design of the Bible is not so much to convey to us natural and po litical knowledge, as the knowledge of " the only true God, and of Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent, whom to know is life eternal." The sacred historian accordingly hastens on to the times of Abraham, when the promises and predictions of the Messiah become more clear and express, and that Saviour was ex plicitly announced, "in whom all the families ofthe earth" should at length be blessed. When we have marked the progress ofthe dawn, and observed the first rays of this rising sun, through the medium of type, figure, and prediction; when we haye con sidered the tokens of approaching glory in the east ; let us look up together, and behold the splendour of the full-blown day; let us contemplate the glory spread around us, by " the sun shining in his strength." The scattered glimmerings of light, — a terrestrial paradise, the first promise of deliverance by the seed of the woman, Abel's sacrifice, Enoch's translation, Noah's ark, and all that followed during so many ages, were at length collected and lost in that one great luminary, which is the light of the Christian world. But alas ! " this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light,, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light ; neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved."* Let us endeavour to approve ourselves, " children ofthe light, and of the day," and observe and follow Him, who thus speaks concerning himself, " I am the light of the world; he that followeth me, shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life." * John iii. 13, 20. ( 41 ) HISTORY OF ABRAM. LECTURE X. Now the Lord had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will show thee.— Genesis xii. 1. It would yield neither amusement nor in struction, to lay before you in detail, the genealogical succession ofthe sons of Noah, from the flood to the calling of Abram. — Scripture presents us with a very general view of that period. It shows us mankind engaged in pursuits common to men in every age. It exhibits the usual and natural opera tions, and the effects of pride, and ambition, and avarice : plans of empire formed ; im- nerial cities founded ; new discoveries made, and settlements established. For a consider able time the recent horrors of the deluge must have laid fast hold ofthe minds of men as the awful monuments of it were every where before their eyes. This would natu rally, for a while, confine them to the moun tainous regions of Armenia, where the ark first rested. But as their fears diminished, and their numbers increased, we find them, allured by the beauty and. fertility of the plains, which were washed by the Tygfes and the Euphrates, descending gradually from the heights, and spreading along the vast and fruitful valleys of Shinar or Chal- dea. And he who had~seen the whole hu man race cut off for their wickedness, his own family consisting of eight persons ex cepted, lived to see the descendants of that family almost as numerous and as profligate as the generation of men which had been destroyed by the flood. He had the mortifi cation, in particular, of seeing his posterity engaged in an enterprise equally absurd, vain, and impious ; that of building ." a city and a tower whose top should reach unto heaven," to transmit their names with re nown to posterity, to be the great seat of empire, and thereby the means of preserving them in one grand system of political union, and of securing them from discord and dis persion. The sacred volume informs us, that the very means which they had vainly devised to keep themselves together, in the wisdom of God, separated and scattered them. But the history of that event fells not within the design of these exercises. Leaving Nimrod and his vain-glorious companions to erect the monument of their own folly, and to feel the consequeinces of their impiety, let us at tend the sacred historian in tracing, not the rise and progress of empire, but the forma tion, the unfolding, and the execution of the F plan of redemption. Dropping the mighty founders of Nineveh and Babylon in that oblivion wherein Providence has plunged them never to emerge, let us accompany the father of the faithful from Ur ofthe Chaldees to the place of his destination, and observe the increasing splendour ofthe day of grace, and adore the wisdom, truth, and faithfulness of Him who promised, and who "hath done as he had said." It may be proper to observe, in the en trance of the history of this great patriarch, that one life, that of Noah, almost connects Adam with Abram. For Noah was born only one hundred and twenty-six years after the death of Adam, and lived till within two years of Abram's birth. In one sense, there fore, the father and founder of the Jewish nation is very little more than the third from the first man. So readily, immediately, and uninterruptedly, might the knowledge of important truth, particularly the promises of salvation, be communicated through so long a tract of time. It is farther observable, that as from Adam to Noah there are ten genera tions, so likewise from Noah to Abram there are ten generations ; but the latter succeed ed each other, much faster than the former. The first ten occupy a period of one thousand six hundred and fifty-six years ; the last is shrunk down to three hundred and fifty- seven. We are henceforward, therefore, to be conversant with lives reduced nearer to our own standard. While extreme longe vity was necessary to carry on the designs of Providence, men lived to the age of many centuries. When God saw it was meet to substitute a written and permanent revela tion, in the place of oral tradition from father to son, the life of man was shortened. The history of Abram's life commences at a period of it, long before which that of most men is concluded ; namely, at the seventy- fifth year of his age. It is never either too early or late to serve and follow God. But the folly and presumption of youth is but too apt to defer matters of the greatest moment to the last hour ; and this fatal waste of the seed time of life, is the sure foundation of dishonour* remorse, and despair, in old age. But though our patriarch had arrived at a period of life so advanced, before the sacred historian introduces him upon the stage, the obscurity which lies upon his earlier years 4* 42 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [LECT. X, is amply compensated by the rich, instruc tive, and entertaining materials, furnished from the divine stores, for the history ofthe latter part of his Hfe. There is something singularly affecting, in the idea of an old man giving up the scenes of his youthful days; scenes endeared to the mind by the fond recollection of past joys ; foregoing his kindred and friends ; and becoming an exile and a wanderer, at a pe riod when nature seeks repose, and when the heart cleaves to those objects to which it has been long accustomed. But that man goes on cheerfully, who knows he is follow ing God ; he can never remove fer from home, who has " made the Most High his habitation ;" he who falls asleep in the bosom of a father, knows that he shall awake in perfect peace and safety. Accordingly, " Abram, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance,, obeyed,, and he went out, not knowing whither he went."* Abram being held forth in scripture as the pattern of a cheerful, prompt, and active faith in God, as we proceed, we shall mark the appearances and the effects of that faith in the successive trials to which it was ex posed. The very first act of his obedience to the will of Heaven, proves the existence and the prevalency of this powerful principle. When called to leave his country and his father's house, " he went out, not knowing," not caring, " whither he went." What could have induced him to make such a surrender, but a sense of his duty to God, an entire acquiescence in the wisdom and goodness of Providence, and a full assurance that his Heavenly Father both could and would in demnify him, for every sacrifice which he was called to make! A sacrifice similar to this every real Christian virtually offers up, when he renounces the pomp and pleasure of this vain world, to the hope of an " in heritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Ur of the Chaldees was become a land of idolatry. Abram's nearest relations had lost the knowledge, and devi ated from the true worship of the God of their fathers. To have continued there, would have been to prefer a situation dan gerous to religion and virtue. Why may we not suppose the call given him to depart, to be the impulse of an honest and enlight ened mind, stirred at the sight of so many idols, and the impure rites of their worship pers; and prompted to flee, at whatever ex pense, from scenes of so much impiety and pollution. When men are to receive imme diately their indemnification or equivalent, the merit ofa surrender is small; but it re quires the faith and trust of an Abram, to take a general promise of God as full security. But his faith had to struggle, in the very •Heb.xi.8. setting out, with difficulties seemingly un- surmountable. The promises made to him were not only conveyed in very general terms, and the accomplishment removed to a great distance, but natural impossibilities also barred the way. What a slender pros pect must a man entertain of a numerous offspring, when both nature and religion pre vent the possibility of his having children? The Spirit of God therefore bestows a just tribute of praise on this part of his conduct, he " believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness," because that "against hope, he believed in hope." But when we come to examine the promise more particu larly, we shall find that it contained every thing which can rouse and fire a noble and g-enerous mind : personal honour and felici ty ; "I will bless thee, and make thy name great :" a numerous and a thriving progeny, who to latest ages should acknowledge him as their founder, and glory in their relation to him; " I will make of thee a great nation, and thou shalt be a blessing:" universal be nefit accruing to the human race from him; "in thee shall all the families ofthe earth be blessed." Behold then the illustrious exile turning his back on home, attended only by his aged parent sinking into the grave under the weight of years and infirmity; his ber loved Sarai; and Lot his nephew, who, it would seem, was determined to share the fortunes of his pious uncle, and with him to sacrifice every worldly consideration to reli gion. With Providence for their protector and guide, and the word of God for their en couragement and consolation, they set out in confidence, and arrive at their destined ha* bitation in safety. But God, who had pror vided for Abram a country, would neverthe less have him carry away from Chaldea, all his honestly acquired property ; for true faith makes light of none of God's benefits ; and worldly prosperity, honourably acquired, mo derately and thankfully enjoyed, is an un doubted mark of God's favour. . Being arrived in Canaan, God appears to Abram again, and informs him that this was the land which he had in view for him ; and renews the declaration, " Unto thy seed will I give this land." In these words, two things are remarkable. First, a farther delay ofthe accomplishment of the promise, I will give ; and secondly, a transferring ofthe gift of it, from Abram himself, to his seed. Each of these alone had been sufficient to have cool ed an ordinary ardour, to have discouraged an ordinary spirit But the good man disco vers no symptom of dissatisfaction or disap pointment, at either the delay or the change of destination ; he does not so much as in quire when or how that promised offspring of his was to arise. It is sufficient for him, that he is following the call of Heaven, and that he is blessed with the divine presence LECT. X.] HISTORY OF ABRAM. 43 through his pilgrimage : with him, even " hope deferred maketh" not " the heart sick ;" he finds he is not even now come to his rest, yet repines not. But though he finds no house nor city for himself to dwell in, he finds both leisure and inclination to erect an altar unto God ; " and there builded he an altar unto the Lord who had appeared unto him,"* He who has set up his rest in the Almighty, is every where and always at home ; and a truly gracious spirit will never omit a work of piety and mercy, under a pre tence of wanting means or opportunity. Why should we inquire, in what manner God appeared unto Abram; or how much wiser should we be for knowing it? Has not the great, the Almighty God, resistless power over our bodies and our minds? And can he not make every element, every creature, a vehicle of his will to us? Behold the patri arch removing from place to place ; " sojourn ing in the land of promise as in a strange land," travelling from Sichem to the plain of Moreh ; from Bethel to Hai ; probably through fear of the idolatrous Canaanites ; who, we are told, then occupied the land. — But though he sojourn, as the wayfaring man, but for a night, the altar is constituted, and the victim is offered up.f And Abram's altar is not built in the spirit wherein many a sacred edifice has been since reared, and many a pious volume purchased, for show^ not for use ;:— having built an altar to Jeho vah, " he called upon the najne of Jehovah." But a wandering-life through Canaan is not the worst of his condition. His faith is put to a new and severe trial ; he is driven out of that land by famine. The country so pompously promised, as a portion to his seed, when increased to the number of the sand upon the sea-shore, refuses subsistence suffi cient to his family in its present diminutive state? What then? Let nature or providence raise what obstacles they may, faith removes or surmounts them. He sits not down sud denly with the peevish prophet, saying, " I do well to be angry," but employs sagacity and diligence to discover, and to obtain, the means of relief. He retires to Egypt, which the scarcity had not reached, or which it had afflicted in an inferior degree. Self-preserva tion is the first law of our nature ; " and he that provideth not for his own, especially those of his own house, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel." But where, alas, shall we find the faith that never staggered through unbelief; the confidence in Heaven that never failed ? On his entrance into Egypt, Abram is seized with an unaccountable fit of distrust altogether unbecoming his character, and equally inju rious to God, to Sarai, and to the king of Egypt. He is afraid of trusting the honour of his wife, during a temporary residence in * Genesis xii. 7. t Genesis Xii. 8. I a strange country, to that God at whose com mand he had given up his native country and his all. He injures the friend and companion of his youth, m supposing her capable of be ing allured by the Splendour and flattery of Egypt, to forget her duty to her husband. He affronts a prince whom he knew not, by sus pecting him of a base and criminal design against the peace and honour of a stranger, driven into his dominions for relief from fa mine. He has recourse to the crooked path of cunning and falsehood, when the direct road of fairness and truth would have served his turn much better. Over caution, is bro ther to great rashness. He who wants to show himself over wise, soon proves himself to be a fool. The very means which Abram has devised for preserving Sarai's chastity, ex posed her to danger. As his sister, she might be lawfully addressed by any one ; as his wife, she was considered as sacred to himself; for the rights of wedlock were held in reverence, even by idolatrous Egyptians. What must have been his feelings when the imposture was detected? How keen his remorse, to see Pharaoh and his innocent household plagued for his fault? The conscious shame of having acted wrong, and of thereby having brought mischief upon another, is, perhaps, the se verest punishment an ingenuous mind can suffer. The next remarkable event of Abram's life is infinitely more honourable for him, and which therefore we pursue with much great er satisfaction. Being safely brought back again to Canaan, he resorts to his former re sidence between Bethel and Hai, and "pitch es his tent by the place of the altar, which he had made there at the first." And there again he renews his communion with Hea ven ; for one failing breaks not off the inter course between God and a good man. En joying here a temporary repose, his worldly substance increases fast upon him: for " the blessing of the Lord it maketh rich." But every earthly good thing brings its inconve nience along with it. His brother's son has cast in his lot with Abram, and is cherished by him with singular tenderness and affec tion : when, behold, the increase of riches becomes an increase of vexation. Though the masters are disposed to peace, the seri vants cannot agree. "A strife arose between-. the herdman of Abram's cattle and the herds man of Lot's cattle :" and what augmented; the folly of such a contention, it is remarked, that "the Canaanite and the Perizzite dwell ed then in the land :" so that their quarrel among themselves rendered them more vul nerable hy the common enemy. For once that riches promote friendship, they ten times engender strife; by setting on fire, envy, or jealousy, or pride, or some such destructive passion. The behaviour of Abram'on this oc casion, merits particular notice and commen 44 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. dation. " And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herd- men : for we be brethren. Is not the whole land before thee ? Separate thyself, I pray thee, from me ; if thou wilt take the left handj then I will go to the right ; or if thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left."* An hundred sermons preached, or an hundred volumes written, in favour of a peaceable, gentle, yielding, generous, man ly spirit, were far short of the plain and per suasive lesson taught us by this conduct of the patriarch. But it merits a larger place in the history, of his life, than is now left for it, in what remains of your time. We wil lingly, therefore, reserve it, to be drawn out Into greater length, and to he pressed more particularly, as an useful and striking exam ple to believers. Christian, you call yourself a son of faith ful Abram : let me' see that.you are actuated by his spirit. What sacrifice, I beseech you, are you making; what sacrifice have you made, to conscience, to duty, to your Chris tian profession ? What worldly interest have you given up ? What lust have you morti fied? What exercise of humility, of self- denial, of self-government, are you engaged in? Faith in God, and submission to his will, were the leading principles of Abram's life: What are yours? Deal faithfully with God, and with yourselves ; and know, that to be a l6ver of the pleasures, riches, or honours ofa present world, to the neglect of religion and its joys, is to prefer Ur of the Chaldees, with its impurity, impiety, and idolatry, to the love and worship of the living and true God. . Was the faith of Abram always uniform, his obedience perfect, his conduct irreproach able ? No. Then it is not always to be imi tated, nor at all to be depended upon. But there is a pattern of faith and obedience, which all may propose as an example, and upon which all may rest as a ground of ac ceptance with God. When such an one as Abram falters in his duty, " let him that thipketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall :" lej none " be high-minded, but fear ;" let us ajtcount no danger small, no foe contemptible, i * Genesis xiii. 8, 9. no deviation from the path of rectitude a light thing. Let us watch most diligently on our weakest side : and let us learn from the patience, forbearance, and tender mercy of God, when, "a brother is overtaken in a fault," to "restore such an one in the spirit of meekness." Had Abram an altar for God, before he had an habitation for himself? Learn from him, O, young man, how to begin the world, as you wish to thrive and prosper in it. The house in which no altar is erected to God, wants both a foundation and a covering. The family which wants the word and the worship of God, is not yet begun to be fur nished. Make room for your Maker and he will settle you in a large place. " Seek first. the kingdom of Gad and his righteousness, and all things shall be added to you." Did Abram rule his own spirit, did he meekly recede from his just right, did he gently yield to an inferior, for the sake of peace ? Blush, O man, to think of thy pride and selfishness; of thy posit'iveness in opinion, thy devotedness to interest, thy insolence in the day of power, thy contempt of the opinions, thy indifference to the feelings and the happiness of others. Look to Abram, and learn to be a conqueror. " Be not over come of evil, but overcome evil with good." Look to your Father in heaven, who " is kind to the evil and unthankful :" " for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the un just." And thus "be ye perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect." Finally ; Was the word made to Abram, sure ? Has his name become renowned, did his progeny increase, were his seed planted in the promised land, and in him are all the families of the earth blessed? Then leam to honour God by reposing confidence in him, assured that, " though heaven and earth pass away, his word shall not pass away." The next Lecture will carry on the His tory of Abram " the friend of God," and ex hibit the gradually opening discovery of the scheme of redemption by Jesus Christ. The blessing of the Almighty we implore on what is past, and his assistance and blessing on what is to come, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. ( 45 ) HISTORY OF ABRAM. LECTURE XL And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen : for we be brethren. — Genesis xui. 8. The history of Abram alone, occupies a larger space in the sacred volume than that of the whole human race from the creation down to his day.— Hitherto we have had ra- . ther sketches of character, than an exact de lineation of the human heart ; we have had hints, respecting remote important events rather than an exact and connected narrative of facts. But the inspired penman has gone into the detail of Abram's life, from his being called of God to leave Ur of the Chaldees, to the day of his death ; a detail including the space of one hundred years. Moses marks with precision the succession of events which befel him ; unfolds his character on a variety of trying and interesting occasions ; and discloses the operations of a good mind through the course of a long life, adorned with many virtues and excellencies, yet not exempted from blemish and imperfection. What renders the scripture history in ge neral, and that of our patriarch in particular, useful and instructive, is, the exhibition of private life therein presented to us, and the lessons of wisdom and virtue thereby taught to ordinary men. The intrigues ofa court, the operations of a campaign, the conse quences of a battle, the schemes ofa states man, the prowess of a hero, and the like, re presented skilfully, and adorned with the charms of eloquence, may amuse or dazzle the reader. But the actors being altogether out of our level, and the scenes entirely out of the line of our experience, though plea sure may, no great advantage can, result from acquaintance' with them. To perform splendid actions, and to exhibit heroic virtue, is given but to a few ; and op portunities of this kind but seldom occur in the course of one life. Whereas occasions to practise generosity, justice, mercy, and mo deration ; to speak truth and show kindness : to melt with pity, and glow with affection ; to forbear and to forgive, are administered to us every step we move through the world, and recur more frequently upon us, than even the means of gratifying the cpmmon appe tites of hunger and thirst When, therefore) we behold men of like passions with our selves, placed in situations exactly similar to our own, practising virtues within our reach, and discovering a temper and disposition which, if we please to cultivate, we may easily attain : then, if we read not with profit as well as delight, it must be because we want not the power, but the inclination, to improve.; Abram has left his kindred and father's house at God's command. Multitudes do the same thing every day, impelled by ambition, by avarice, by curiosity, by a wandering, restless disposition. Happy is he, who, in removing, does not leave his religion behind him; and who, in the midst of the employ ments, or the delights of a new situation or place of residence, is not tempted to forget or to forsake the God of his native home, and of his early years. Alas, how often does this very metropolis prove the grave of virtuous sentiments, of religious principles, and a re gular education ! Though Abram be but a pilgrim in Canaan, yet he thrives and pros pers there. As the pious soul seeks and finds means of intercourse with Heaven in every condition and state Of life, so God, who suffers none to lose by fidelity and attachment to him, can render the most untoward, unset tled, and dangerous condition, productive of real happiness: "if a man's ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him." But never do we find wealth flowingi»in, and increasing upon a man, without some corresponding peril or inconvenience. Either the mind is corrupted by it, or the possessor is exposed to be hated, envied, and plunder ed. The peace of Abram's family had like to 'have been disturbed, by a quarrel arising out of its prosperity; but it was preserved by the good man's wisdom, moderation, and con descension. The officious zeal of pragmati cal servants has well nigh embroiled their peaceable and kindly affectioned masters. " And there was a strife between the herd- men of Abram's cattle and the herdmen of Lot's cattle ; and the Canaanite and the Pe- rizzite dwelled then in the land." How can any one think of security and peace in this World, when the rashness, malice, folly, or pride of a domestic, may set a man at va riance with his chief friends? Indeed we are vulnerable in exact proportion to the extent of our possessions. How great is Abram's mind, how amiable. 46 HISTORY OF ABRAM [lect. xr. his conduct upon this occasion ! " And Abram said unto Lot, let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen ; for we be bre thren. Is not the whole land before thee ? Separate thyself, I pray thee, from me ; if thou wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left."* Abram was the elder man ; he was to Lot in the room ofa father. Him had God distinguished by special marks of his favour, and by the promises of future greatness and pre-emi nence. If the one must give way to the other, who would not instantly pronounce, that undoubtedly Lot ought to yield. Might not the call and destination of God have been warrantably pleaded as a reason why Abram should have the first choice? Abram no doubt, both might and could have asserted the preference ; and he proves that he well deserved it, by giving it up. What person in this assembly but stands reproved or ad monished by the example of the patriarch's humility, moderation, and affability? It is indeed a perfect contrast to that tenacious- ness of their opinions, that punctilious adhe rence to the least iota of their rights, that inflexibility of self-love and self-conceit, that perpetual assumption or demand of prefer ence and superiority, which mark the con duct of most men. Were it necessary to enforce the example of Abram by the precepts ofthe gospel ; the whole spirit of Christianity, a multitude of particular injunctions, and above all, the temper and conduct of the great pattern of all that is amiable and excel lent, might be adduced, to expose and con demn, if not to cure, that selfish spirit, equally inconsistent with good sense and with reli gion, which exacts a perpetual sacrifice from others, without discerning the propriety or necessity of making the slightest sacrifice to others in return. Permit me to recite a few passages on the subject. " For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith. For as we have many members in one body, and all members have not the same office ; so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one mem bers one of another. Be kindly affectioned one to another, with brotherly love, in honour preferring one another. Be of the same mind one towards another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be not wise in your own conceits. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."f " Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than them- * Gen-, xiii. 8, 9. f Bom. xii. 3, 4, 5. 10. 16. 18. selves."* " We then that are strong, ought to bear the infirmities of the weak,- and not to please ourselves. Let every one of us please his neighbour for his good to edifica tion. For even Christ pleased not himself; but as it is written, The reproaches of them that reproached thee, fell on me. Now the God of patience and consolation, grant you to be like-minded one towards another, ac cording to Jesus Chrisf't Thus have we precept upon precept, pattern upon pattern, on a subject as plain as the light at noon-day, and which is presenting itself to us almost every hour we live. But alas! it is not preaching that can confer the temper of an Abram; and that can induce men to forego the claims which pride and self-conceit are incessantly urging them to advance. Behold then Abram and his nephew at length constrained to separate. Nature, af fection, religion, affliction, had all conspired to unite them; but a flow of worldly success dissolves their union ; and the old adage is exemplified in them, "relations sometimes agree best at a distance from one another." The power of choosing was given to Lot, and he exercised it accordingly; "And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jor dan, that it was well watered every where, before the Lord destroyed Sodom and Gomor rah, even as the garden ofthe Lord, like the land of Egypt, as thou comest unto Zoar. Then Lot chose him all the plain of Jordan: and Lot journeyed east; and they separated ' themselves the one from the other."! How wisely this choice was made, we shall have occasion to remark in the sequel of the his tory. So good a man, and a relation so kind as Abram, must sensibly have felt this separa tion from his nearest kinsman. But what ever blank was made in his happiness by the failing of this creature comfort, he has the consolation of reflecting, that it was not brought upon him through his own fault ; and it is speedily and abundantly compensated by the visions ofthe Almighty; by the promises of Him that is faithful and true, and by the presence and affection of that Friend, who sticketh closer than a brother. "And the Lord said unto Abram, after that Lot. was separated from him, Lift up now thine eyes, and look from the place where thou art, northward, and southward, and eastward, and westward. For all the land which thou seest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed forever. And I will make thy seed as the dust ofthe earth: so that ifa man can num ber the dust ofthe earth, then shall thy seed also be numbered. Arise, walk through the land, in the length of it, and in the breadth of it : for I will give it unto thee."{ There is something delightfully soothing to the * Phil. ii. 3. 1 Gen. xiii. 10, 11. t Rom. xv. 1, 2, 3. 9. $ Gen. xiii. 14—17. MOT. XI.] HISTORY OF ABRAM, 47 human heart In the Idea of property ;— one's own home, his own field, his own flock. If any thing can add to the satisfaction of this kind of possession, it is the having acquired it honourably, and the capacity of enjoying it with cheerfulness, wisdom, and moderation. Dishonest gam can never bestow content ment, and seldom descends to a remote heir. But the gratification of honest prosperity and success is capable of being still unspeakably heightened and sweetened ; namely, by the heart-composing, spirit-elevating considera tion, that die blessing enjoyed is the gift of God, is the pledge of paternal love, and the earnest of eternal felicity. In such happy circumstances did our patriarch inhabit the plains of Mamre; blessed in the present, more blessed in the prospects of futurity; blessed in the fulness of this world, more blessed in the favour of God, which is better than life; blessed in the promise ofa nume rous and prosperous offspring, infinitely more blessed in the promise of that holy seed in whom "all the families of the earth are blessed." When we find the good man abid ing in tents, a pilgrim and a stranger in Canaan, do we not perceive it written in legible characters, " arise ye and depart, for this is not your rest?" Hear we. not the voice of God, saying plainly, " seek yeanother country, that is on heavenly one ?" But even the life of a pilgrim, and of a shepherd, is not secure ; neither does any worldly condition admit of a certain or long repose. Let a man be ever so peaceably in clined, how easily may he be involved in the feuds of contentious neighbours ? This was the cose with Abram. jlp!»the fourteenth chapter of this sacred book, we have the his tory of a powerful confederacy of four kings against five ; founded no doubt, as all such confederacies are, in a lust of power or wealth ; or directed by a spirit of cruelty and revenge. It issues in a bloody conflict in the vale of Siddim. Sodom, where Lot had chosen to dwell, becomes a prey to the conqueror, and he himself is made a prisoner, and his goods are plundered. These facts are related by Moses, and become interesting to us, merely from their connexion with the history of Abram. What, hut for this, are Cheder- loamer, Amraphel, and Arioch, to the men of this day, but mere names? Lot must now have grievously felt the consequences of his imprudent choice of a place of residence, had it not been for the friendship and valour of his venerable uncle ; who, roused by the in telligence bf his nephew's distress and dan ger, flies instantly to his relief. Behold the good old man exchanging his shepherd's crook for the warrior's spear, and rUshing with all the ardour and impetuositybf youth on the in sulting victor. Which shall we most admire in this important and interesting transaction, the strength and eagerness of his natural af fection ; his honest indignation at violence and oppression; the skill with which he planned his enterprise ; or the vigour, bold ness, and intrepidity with which he executed it ; the moderation with which he exercised his victory ; his disinterestedness in declin ing any share of the fruits bf it for himself; or his justice and good faith in attending to, and supporting the just right of his allies ? All, all together, constitute an unequivocal and a brilliant proof, of a mind truly noble and dignified : and his conduct on this occa sion suggests a crowd of reflections both pleasing and useful. Remember, Christians, it is the same man, who for the sake of peace with a brother gave up his just claim to a junior and infe rior ; that was not afraid in the cause ofthe injured and oppressed, to attack a numerous host, headed by princes, and flushed with victory. With whom then does true magna nimity reside ? Surely with the humble and condescending. The man who has subdued his own spirit is invincible. Behold in this the nature, and the foundation, of true courage. It is not to make light of life ; it is not " to rush like the horse into battle ;" it is not to talk high swelling words of vanity : It is to fear God ; it is to be calm and composed in danger ; it is to possess hope beyond the grave ; it is to be superior to the pride, and incapable of the insulting triumph -of suc cess: Behold how the kindred graces and virtues delight to reside in unity and har mony, in the bosom ofa good man ! Neither good nor bad qualities are to be found solita ry in the breast of any one. Is a man pious ? Then he is humble. Is he humble,? Then meek and condescending. Is he condescend ing ? Then bold, then just, then generous, then merciful. -Is he a child of God, a dis ciple of Jesus? Then he is all that is amia ble. Behold in Abram, a soul superior to the love of riches, and consequently greater than a king ; " And the king of Sodom said unto Abram, Give me the persons, and take the goods to thyself. And Abram said to the king of Sodom, I have lift up my hand unto the Lord, the most high God, the possessor of heaven and earth, that I will not take from a thread even to a shoe-latchet, and that I will not take any thing that is thine, lest thou shouldst say, I have made Abram rich."* That integrity is incorruptible which consi ders life and happiness as consisting not in " the abundance of the things which a man possesseth :" which prizes an honest, though humble independence, above the honours and treasures which princes have to bestow. Abram, on this occasion, is found in con nexion with a most extraordinary person, who bursts upon us like the sun from behind a thick cloud, unveils his splendour for a moment, and then hides himself again in the * Gen. xiv. 21—23. HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. XL shades of night: " Melchizedec, king of Sa lem, and priest of the most high God ;" whose appearance, history, and character, we could have hardly comprehended, had not a brighter day since arisen, and an inspired apostle un folded the meaning of what one inspired pro phet acted, and another has recorded. The history of Melchizedec, short as it is, with the apostolic comment upon it, will easily furnish materials for a Lecture by itself, and shall not now therefore be anticipated. The story of Abram himself shall for the present stand still, to be resumed and prosecuted in its order : it being now high time to look for ward, and to bring that patriarch, with these who went before him, to the feet of Jesus — his "offspring;" yet his "root:" later than him by almost two thousand years ; yet be fore him " of old, even from everlasting;" re ceiving existence from him in the order of nature, and by the tenor ofthe covenant ; yet bestowing existence upon him, as the eternal Word, " by whom all things were made, and without whom nothing was made that is made." Abram may be first compared to Adam, being both the fathers of many nations, and especially constituted of God for that end. With both, the covenant of God was esta blished, which included and involved their posterity, though the children were not as yet born: for with God, that is effected, which is purposed to be done ; and his pro mises are gifts already bestowed. Adam's transgression transmitted evils innumerable to his offspring ; Abram's faith entailed bless ings unspeakable upon his family for many generations. Both of them typified Christ in their day ; and both " saw his day afar off." Abram may be compared with the princes and great men of the age in which he lived. And in true dignity of mind, in elevation of spirit, in generosity of sentiment, in pro priety of behaviour, he will be found superior to most, and inferior to none. We see kings receiving obligations from him ; while he nobly shows himself above receiving an obli gation from any one. And Abram is a type of every real Christian giving up the world as a portion, at God's command, and sacri ficing the dearest delights of nature to the demands of duty ; living as a stranger upon earth, and looking for "a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." But the great venerability of Abram's cha racter arises from his relation to Jesus Christ, whom he shadows forth in a great variety of respects. Abram was called and constituted of God, to be the natural head ofa great and powerful nation ; Jesus, " the first-born among many brethren," to be the spiritual father of the whole vast family of believers. The cove nant of God with Abram came in aid to the insufficiency of the first covenant ; which had become weak, and ineffectual to salvation, through the corruption of human nature ; and it prefigured a covenant still more sure and immoveable than itself, " established upon better promises," even the sending of " the Son of God, in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin; to condemn sin in the flesh." The prompt obedience of Abram to the call of Heaven, leads us directly to Him, who says of himself, " my meat is to do the will of him who sent me ;" and the language of whose whole life, spirit, sufferings, and death is, " Father, not my will, but thine be done." Abram's appearing on the stage, and enter ing on the discharge ofthe duties of his pub lic character, in the full maturity of his age, suggests to us, the Saviour of the world en tering upon, and discharging his public ministry, in the full vigour of life, and flower of his age. When I behold Abram sojourn ing in the land of promise as in a strange country, I think of him, who " came to his own and his own received him not:" and meditate on " the Son of Man, who had not where to lay his head." Abram, chased into Egypt by famine, reminds me of Jesus flying into Egypt from the wrath of a jealous and incensed king. Who can read of Abram dis comfiting confederate princes, without be- thinking Jiimself straight ofthe triumphs of a Redeemer over " principalities and powers, and the ruler ofthe darkness of this world;" Satan, sin, and death " cast into the lake of fire ?" When we behold Lot brought back from captivity by the kindness and intrepidity of his affectionate kinsman, can we refrain from turning our eyes' to our compassionate elder Brother, v^~- " through death has de stroyed him that had the power of death, that is, the devil ; and delivered them who through fear of death were subject to bond age ;" and who has restored his younger bre thren to " the glorious liberty of the sons of God?" Abram nobly refuses to be made rich by the bounty of the king of Sodom; thus when the Jews would have taken Christ and made him a king, he withdrew himself: and when the prince ofthe power ofthe air presented him with the prospect of the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, and proffered- all to him on condition of his doing homage for them, he rejected the offer with disdain, " get thee behind me, Satan." The amiable qualities of Abram's mind bear a lively resemblance to the spirit that dwelt in our divine Master. But in Abram it was a spirit imparted, in Jesus a spirit inherent ; it was bestowed on the for mer in measure, on the latter it was poured out without measure : in the patriarch it was jingled with dross, alloyed by a mixture of human imperfection; in the Saviour it was unmixed, unalloyed, for " he did no sin, nei ther was guile found in his lips." But the time would fail to enumerate all lect. xii.] HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. 49 the marks-of resemblance. Many others will occur to the careful and attentive reader of Abram's history ; these shall for the present suffice from this place. The farther continu ation of it shall be suspended, and give way, according to the order of the narration, and to give these exercises all the advantage of variety which their nature will admit, to tlie singular history of Melchizedec ; which, God willing, shall be tlie subject of the ensuing Lecture, and to which permit me to implore your patient and candid attention. Earnest ly praying that>$he blessing of the Most High may crown what has been spoken, we ascribe -praise to His name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. LECTURE XII. And Melchizedec, king of Salem, brought forth bread and wme : and he was the priest of the most high God. — Genesis xiv. 18. The Lord hath sworn, and will not repent, Thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedec Psalm ex. 4. - Jesus, made an high priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedec. — Hebrews vi. 20. of those which have afforded ample employ ment to critics and commentators. Were our object amusement only, it were easy to entertain you for months to come, with the ingenious, the fanciful, the absurd, and non sensical expositions which have been given of the person and history of Melchizedec But as we aim at usefulness, and acknowledge no guide in sacred things but the holy Scrip ture, Moses shall be our only authority and guide in tracing this remarkable story ; Da vid and Paul our only interpreters, in the application and use of it. Abram, with a little band of three hundred and eighteen persons of his own-household, and a few friends, has pursued, overtaken, surprised, and discomfited four confederated kings, with their victorious army ; and re covered Lot, his brother's son, into liberty. Returning from this honourable, bold, and successful enterprise, he is met by a prince of a very different character from those whom he had conquered, and those whom he had delivered. They were sons of violence, sons of blood ; his name was Melchizedec, and Melctjisalenv — king of righteousness^ king ofv peace. It is extremely probable, that these epithets were titles conferred upon this great and good man, as being descriptive of his person and character ; and might be designed of Providence as a memorial to all princes of what they ought to be ; lovers, preservers, and promoters of justice, n)ainy tamers and conservators of peace. It is pleasing to find ourselves mistaken in our calculations ofthe numbers'of good men, 5 The eagerness and avidity with which men pry into abstruse and difficult subjects, con be exceeded only by their coldness and indifference to obvious and important truth. The religious controversies which have en gaged so much attention, occupied so much time, and furnished employment for so many rare talents; which have whetted the tem pers, and too often the swords of men against each other, are, in general, on points of doc trine too deep and mysterious ever to be fa thomed by human understanding, too lofty to be scanned without boldness and presump tion, or too trifling to merit regard. Re vealed religion, like every thing that is of God, must necessarily present many difficul ties to a creature so limited as man. But instead of being rejected on that account, it is the more to be prized and reverenced ; as having this evidence, among many others, of coming from Him, whose nature, whose works, and whose ways, none " can find out. unto perfection." Curiosity, guided by hu mility, and aiming at useful discovery, is a laudable and useful principle. But curiosity impelled by self-conceit, and resting in mere speculation, is generally rash and presump tuous, often trifling, impertinent, and con temptible. In every branch of knowledge, those truths are the most valuable which are the plainest, and which present themselves in the greatest abundance: just as nature produces in the greatest profusion those com modities which are most useful and necessary to man. The subject of this night's Lecture, is one G so HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. [lect. xii. and in our estimates of the state of religion in the world. For these calculations and es timates through ignorance and contracted- ness of spirit, are , generally, if not always, erroneous* by being short ojjjjhe truth. Who did not conclude, when Abram was called to leave his idolatrous country, that the know ledge and the worship of the true God were entirely confined to his family ? When lo ! a king and priest of tlie most high God, of whom we never heard, of whose existence we had formed no opinion before, breaks forth upon us, all at once; and teaches us this most elevating, this most encouraging truth, that the number of the redeemed is much greater, and the state of religion much more prosperous, than the partial views, and the systematic spirit of even good men, will per mit them to believe. Thus, in latter times, a prophet of no less dignity than Elijah, from apparent circumstances, made a most erro neous computation of the number of the feithfiil in his day. " The children of Israel," saith he, " have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thy altars, and slam thy prophets with the sword ; and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away."* But what saith the answer of God to him ? "I have left me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which hath not kissed him."f And when the ransomed of the Lord shall at length return together to Zion, they shall be "a great multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues." And what heart but must exult in the prospect of the grace of God being more widely diffused than we ap prehended, and extended to regions unknown, and multitudes unthought of by us? Though but little be told us of this extra ordinary person, that little is both pleasing and instructive. In him, we find united two offices of high dignity and respectability — royalty and the priesthood ; the majesty of the one united to the sanctity of the other ; Melchizedec, " king of Salem," was also " the Eriest of the most high God." How truly onourable is high station, when supported by .the beauty and dignity of holiness, and adorned with unaffected goodness! Is the state of a king either dishonoured or di minished by attendance at the altar of God? No ; it is religion that sweetens, and embel lishes, and ennobles every condition : it is religion, forming an intimate and a perma nent relation between a man and his God, " that raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the , needy out of the dung-hill, and setteth him with princes ;" and which exalt- eth earthly princes to heavenly thrones. Ex amples are rare in history of these two cha racters being united. The kingdoms and the priesthood of this world, fall to the lot of * 1 Kings xix. 14. t 1 Kings xix. ia but a selected few ; they hardly blend in one .and the same person, seldom meet to crown the tame head. But in the new creation of God„in " the kingdom prepared for the heirs of glory frpm the foundation of the world,," the high lot of Melchizedec is the lot of every child of God. All are "kings and priests unto God, even the Father." And the Apos tle Peter, addressing, not the princes and potentates ofthe earth, but " strangers scat tered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappado cia, Asia, and Bithynia," thus writes, " Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people, that ye should show forth the praises of Him, who hath called you out of darkness into his mar vellous light."* Is this long of righteousness and peace ve nerable in his priestly robes, attending, in the order of his course, upon the most high God ? Is he less amiable and respectable in administering to the necessities of his fellow- men ? A prince is never more kingly, than when he is practising the virtues of huma nity, hospitality, and compassion. And the praise of these too belongs to Melchizedec, for " he brought forth bread and wine," to re fresh the patriarch and his little army, after the labour and fatigue of. their rapid march and violent conflict. • The great God is in finitely above the need of our services. How then can we honour him most, and serve him best? By copying his example; by doing good ; by communicating to the comfort of others what he has kindly bestowed upon us. What object does this world present, once to be compared with a human being replete with benevolence, habitually studying to glo rify his Creator, by alleviating the distresses, and promoting the happiness of his creatures 1 This is the true lustre of riches, this is the glory of greatness, this the splendour of power, this the majesty of kings. Kindred spirits are easily and powerfully attracted to eaeh other ; and religion forms the strongest and tenderest bond of union among men. Abram and Melchizedec meet like men long acquainted, The patriarch nobly disdains to accept the spoils proffered to him by the king of Sodom ; but joyfully, and with gratitude, embraces the friendship' and kindness of the king of Salem. The gifts of a bad man yield a very mixed satis faction to an honest mind, but it is pleasing to the soul to receive benefits from the wise and good. An interchange of kind offices is the life of friendship in worthy minds. In our commerce with Heaven, benefits flow continually from God to us ; continually re ceiving, we have nothing to send back but the effusions of a thankful heart, and the humble desires of needy dependants ; but friendship among men subsists only among equals, and depends on kindnesses mutually * 1 Peter ii. 9. LECT. XII.] HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. 51 ffiven and received. Melchizedec " brings forth bread and wine" to Abram ; ABram gives him " titlies of all." So early existed in the world that mode of supporting the mi nisters of religion. A great prince like Mel chizedec needed not to minister in holy things for hire, but he would, by his example, teach mankind, what God, by a special constitution, established under the law, and afterwards delivered to the world in a general propo sition, that " he who serves at the altar should live by the altar." But how poor in comparison, is the gift which the patriarch brings to the priest of God, to that which he receives from him. Abram's is an offering of acknowledgment and respect merely, by which the receiver was neither benefited nor enriched, but Mel- chizedec's return to him was a real benefit ; he "blessed him and said, Blessed be Abram of the most high God, possessor of heaven and earth."* Abram teas already blessed, in growing, worldly prosperity, blessed in recent victory over his enemies, blessed in the de liverance he had wrought for his beloved nephew, blessed in possessing the respect and esteem of princes : but blessings like these have fallen to the lot of bad men, and are in themselves unsatisfactory : Melchizedec pro nounces a blessing which crowns all the rest, and gives value to them all. "The blessing ofthe Lord it maketh rich, and he addethno sorrow therewith ;" Abram is " blessed of the most high God," with the prospect, though distant, of the Messiah's day, who should spring from himself, according to the flesh, and in whom " all the families of the earth should be blessed." Abram beheld in the very person who pronounced the benediction upon him, " the figure of him who was to come," that "king who should reign in righteousness ;" " he saw it, and was glad." What selfish, solitary joy is once to be named with the pure benevolent delight, which glowed in the patriarch's breast, every time the promise was brought to his ear, and the Saviour, his own Saviour, the Saviour of the world, was placed before his eye ? "And blessed be the most high God," con tinues he, " which hath delivered thine ene mies into thine hand."t The blessing which cometh down from heaven, ascends, together with its fruit, to heaven again ; as the pre cious drops which fall down to water the earth, rise upward in gales of fragrance, from the fruits and flowers which they produce, and perfume the air. " Mercy is twice bless ed, it blesseth him that gives and hinwfiShat takes." But behold, while Melchizedec yet blesseth Abram, he is out of our sight, and is no more to be found. He burst forth upon us like the sun from behind a thick cloud ; disappeared again as quickly ; and is to be discerned only in that track of glory which * Genesis xiv. 19. t Genesis xiv. 20. he has left behind him. Blessed type of him, who " ted out his disciples as far as to Be thany, and he lift up his hands and blessed them. And it canje to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven :"* And who, '_' while they beheld, was taken up, and a cloud received him out of their sight."t Thus all the men of ages past have made their escape from us, and we behold them no more : and thus we ourselves are one by one disappearing from among men. Adam, and the great majority, died. Enoch, and one more were translated without tasting death. The latter end of Melchizedec is concealed from us. But,, from his extraordinary charac ter, we are led to imagine it could not be in the ordinary course of humanity. In so many various ways can God remove and dispose of his creatures ; and thus, through various passages, we enter into the world of spirits: and " mortality is swallowed up of life." — What other of the longs of the earth is to be compared with ' Melchizedec ? Is he not ra ther raised up of Providence, to reproach and to condemn the potentates of this world ; the rule of whose government, too often, is not righteousness and law, but humour and caprice ; and the end of it, not to bless man kind, but to gratify some passion of their own ; who, instead of preserving the nations in peace, themselves the sons of peace, have incessantly, from the beginning to this un happy day, involved the wretched human race in scenes of war, and violence, and blood? To which of the earthly thrones shall we look for the union of the sanctity of the priesthood with the majesty ofthe sovereign ? Alas ! kings are " set in slippery places. "— Their education, their station, their employ ments, their connexions ; all, all unhappily encroach upon the offices of religion ; tend. to weaken its impressions, and to shut out its consolations. — But there is a Prince, be twixt whom and this king of Salem, the re semblance is so striking, that he who runs may trace it. Not a few have given in to the opinion, that the wonderful personage represented in this history, under the united character of priest and king, was none other than the Son of God himself, assuming a temporary human form, to .exhibit in that dark age of the world, an 'anticipated view.of the person, which he was, "in the fulness of time, to as sume, of the character of which he was to sustain, and of the offices which he was to execute. The expressions which describe Melchizedec, it is alleged, are not applica ble to any creature : and as, from several other passages in the books of Moses, it is probable, if not certain, that the Redeemer ofthe world manifested himself in the patri archal ages; at sundry times, and on divers * Luke xxiv. SO, 51. t Arts 1. 9- 52 HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDE6. [lect. xii. eccasions, under the character of the angel ofthe Lord ; it is apprehended, that this ap pearance to Abram might be of the same nature ;,in order to furnish the father of be lievers with a clearer and more distinct idea ofthe person of the Redeemer, according to the words of Christ himself, " your father Abrahamrejoiced to see my day: and he saw it, and was glad."* I see no danger that can result, either to faith or morality, from admitting this suppo sition. And it must be admitted, that there are circumstances, both in the history and in the apostolical application of it, which sufficiently warrant such an interpretation. If there is not an actual identity of persons in Melchizedec and the Messiah, the analo gy at least is so obvious, that we have but to bring Moses and Paul together, in order to discover its exactness, and to feel its force. The likeness is presented to us in scripture, not as some ethers, in scanty and obscure hints, or in some leading features and linea ments only; but the portraits are drawn, as it were, at full length, by the masterly hands of a prophet and an apostle, and plaped side by side for our inspection. In this part of our undertaking, therefore, nothing more is ne cessary than to transcribe from the page of inspiration. Scripture is singularly expressive, both in what it speaks of Melchizedec, and in what it conceals ; and in both these respects we may in some measure understand the mean ing of what David, in spirit, says of the Mes siah, " thou art a priest for ever, after the order of Melchizedec." And first, To whom can the names of king of righ teousness, king of peace, be applied with such strict propriety, as to him whom God hath *' anointed over his holy hill of Sion," who reigns in justice and , in love : who, righteous himself, has wrought out for all his happy subjects a justifying righteousness by the merit of his blood, and continues to work out in all, a sanctifying righteousness by the grace and power of his Spirit? But peace and righteousness are not mere external.designations of Messiah, our prince ; names without a meaning, titles without me rit like many of those which are worn by tne potentates of this world, Catholic, Most Christian, Faithful, ImperwJ&Defender of. the Faith I Appellations calculated to excite pity or derision. No: his titles are of the es sence of his nature ; the display of them, is the object of his mission, and the consumma tion of his plan. " His name shall be called the Prince of peace." " Of the increase of his government, and peace, there shall be no end."f " In Christ Jesus, we, who sometimes were far off, are made nigh by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle * John viii. 50. \ Isaiah ix. 6, 7. wall of partition between us:" "He came and*preached peace to you who were afar off, and to them that were nigh."* " The chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed."! His gospel is prophesied of, as God's " covenant of peace," and " the counsel of peace." At his birth, the melodious anthem of "peace on earth, and good will toward men,"| ascended from the tongues of ten thousand angels, up to the eternal throne : and when* he left the world, this bequest, more precious than the mantle of Elijah, fell from him, and remain ed behind him to bless mankind, "peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you:"{ peace with God, peace of conscience, peace with all men ; for " being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord ^esus Christ."|| And " the ldngdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost."1T Ac quaintance with God, through him, produces inward tranquillity. "Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace; thereby good shall come unto thee."** And " if God be for us, who can be against us ?" " The peace of God passeth all understanding." The world can neither give it nor take it away. And when his gospel shall have produced its full effect, and his kingdom is filially esta blished; "the work of righteousness shall be peace;" "and the effect of righteousness, quietness, and assurance for ever."-|-t But it were endless to enumerate the pas sages of scripture, which represent Jesus Christ the Saviour, as the author, the pur chaser, the giver, the operator of peace, and "the Lord our righteousness." They are his nature, his name; the burthen of his preaching, ofhis prayers : they are the fruit of his sufferings and death, the object of his intercession, the operation ofhis Spirit: they' are the seeds of glory in his redeemed upon earth ; and the perfection of glory in him'and in them, when the triumph ofhis grace shall be completed in heaven. As the names and titles ascribed to Mel chizedec, apply in full force, and in their utmost extent to our blessed Saviour, so the several actions in which we find him en- faged, have their exact counterpart in what esus did, in the exercise of his public mi nistry. They are these three — " he brought forth bread and wine," to refresh Abram and his weary "host ; he " blessed Abram ;" and he received of him "tithes of all" the spoils. In the first of these we are led to contem- iplat'4 the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, when he exerted, more than once, his al mighty power, in miraculously multiplying bread to refresh and sustain the fainting multitudes, who resorted to hear him : and * Eph. ii. 13, 14, 17. 1 Luke ii. 14. II Rom. v. 1. ** Job xxii. 81. t Isaiah liii. 5. § John xiv. 27. IT Rom. xiv. 17. It Isaiah xxxii. 17. LECT. XII.] HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. 58 when he instituted, by taking, blessing, and distributing bread and wine, that memorial of his death, which has been in every age, and shalt continue to the end of the worid, the food of the hungry soul, "and a cordial to the feinfr; the token of a salvation already wrought out and purchased ; and the foretaste of a salvation " ready to, be revealed ;" the communion of imperfect saints, in the church militant, and the eternal bond of union among the spirits of just men made perfect, in the church triumphant Again, Melchizedec blessed Abram. In this action of the lung of Salem, we behold Jesus, "who went about doing good," and scattered blessings wheresoever he went. " He took little children into his arms and blessed them." He pronounced a blessing, which still rests on " the poor in spirit," "the meek," "the merciful," "the pure in heart," " the peace-makers," and those " who hunger and thirst after righteousness."* He blessed the bread before he brake it, and gave it to his disciples : when he ascended up on high, blessings upon blessings flowed from his lips ; and in .virtue of his interces sion at the right hand of the Father, " every good gift, and every perfect gift cometh down from the Father of lights."-)- If the world has any comfort ; if the soul has any hope ; if there be any communication between hea ven and earth ; if there be " good will towards men ;" " if there be any consolation in Christ ; if any comfort of love ; if any fellowship of spirit ; if any bowels and mercies ;"| if there be any joy purer, and more perfect than an other, " the blessing ofthe Lord it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow therewith ;" it is of him, whom " God having raised up," even " his Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning away every one of you from his iniquities."} But the grand accomplishment of the type is reserved for that day, when, together with faithful Abraham, all "the ransomed of th? Lord shall return, and come to Zion, with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads ;"|| when "the Son of man, com ing in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory," shall thus welcome his re deemed to the regions of eternal day, " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world."1T The last of Melchizedec's actions that stands upon record, is his receiving the tithe ofthe spoils from Abram. On which subject I tHink it best to give you the Apostle's com mentary in his own words. " Now coajjteler how great this man was, unto whom*fyen the patriarch Abraham gave the tenth of the spoils. And verily they that are ofthe sons of Levi, who receive the office ofthe priest hood, have a commandment to take tithes of * Matt. v. 3. 10. t James ¦• 17- * phil- "• '• „. § Acts iii. 26. II Isai. xxxv. 10. IT Matt. xxv. 34. the people according to the law ; that is, of their brethren, though they came out of the loins of Abraham ; but he whose* descent is not counted from them, received tithes of Abraham, and blessed him that had'the pro mises. And without all contradiction, the less is blessed ofthe better. And here men that die receive tithes ; but there he receiveth them, of whom it is witnessed that he liveth. And as I may so say, Levi also, who received tithes, payed tithes in Abraham ; for he was yet, in the loins of his father, when Mel chizedec met him."* From which he justly infers, that " perfection" could not be " by the Levitical priesthood," that " there was need" of " another priest, after the order of Melchizedec, and not after the order of Aaron ;" who should be "'made, not after the law of a carnal commandment, but after the power of an endless life;" and that "seeing the law made nothing perfect," but "the bringing in of a better hope did," "by so much was Jesus made a surety of a better testament :". and " this man because he con- tinueth ever hath an unchangeable priest hood." Through him, therefore, let us offer "the calves of our lips," and "present" our " bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is our reasonable service :" for " we are not our own, we are bought with a price ;" therefore, let us glorify God in our body, and in our spirit, which are God's." As the names and employments, so the united offices and dignity of Melchizedec, met in all their lustre in the person ofthe Son of God; " King of Salem," and "Priest of the most high God." In "derision" of the vain attempts of the heathen, and ofthe im pious confederacy of the kings and rulems of the earth, " against the LORD, and against his Anointed," God declares, " I have set my King upon my holy hill of Zion."f He came not indeed in worldly pomp, but in lowliness and meekness, yet the powers and potentates of the earth were made subject and subser vient to him. " Wise men from the east" were conducted by a star to Jerusalem, and thence to Bethlehem of Judah, to do homage to him at his birth ; . and poured " their trea sures, gold, frankincense, and myrrh," at his feet. Augustus issued." a decree that all the world should be taxed." What was his njo- tive, what his end ? We cannot teU ; but we know'thesendtwhich God had in view by it: namely, to bring into more public notoriety, the several circumstances of Christ's nativi ty, and to transmit them to the latest poste rity, in all their splendour and importance. Thus the haughty master of imperial Rome was constrained of Providence, to render un known, unintended, involuntary homage to yonder babe in the stable of Bethlehem." "For ofa truth against thy holy child Jesus, whom thou hast anointed, both Herod, and * Heb. vii. 4—10. 5* t Psalm ii. 6. 54 HISTORY OF MELCHIZEDEC. [lect. xii. Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles and the people of Israel, were .gathered together, for to do whatsoever thy hand and thy counsel determined before to be- done."* Is he not then " the blessed and only Potentate ; the King of kings, and Lord of lords ? Now es pecially, exalted as he is, to the right hand of the Majesty on high. For by him were all things created that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principali ties, or powers : all thmgs were created by him and for him." "And he is before all things, and by him all things consist"! And, into the kingdom ofhis glory, when finished, " the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour." Then shall angels and men join in this grand celestial chorus, "the kingdoms of this world are become the king doms of our Lord, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever."f But while his exalted rank as a sovereign removes us to an awful distance, his milder character as " the Apostle and High Priest of our profession," allures us back to his pre sence, and dissipates our terrors. He is " a merciful and a faithful High Priest" an " High Priest, touched with the feeling of our infirmities:" "a great High Priest, that is passed into the heavens," through whom we have encouragement to "come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.7'} He has by " one offering perfect ed forever them that are sanctified," and who, having " washed us from our sins in his own blood," shall at length make us " kings and priests unto God and his Father. To him be glory and dominion forever and ever."|| The circumstances relating to Melchize dec, which are concealed, no less than those which are revealed to us, lead directly to similar circumstances in the person and character of our Lord. "Without father, without mother, without descent; having neither beginning of days nor end of life ;" no predecessor ; no successor ; no limited time of service ; no derived title ; a dignity not passing from hand to hand, but permanent,, inherent, immutable." Such was the type. *-Acts iv. 27, 28. t Col. i. 16, 17. J Rev. xi. 15. § Heb. iv.16. 1 Rev.i. 6. "Mi What is its antitype ? " Who shall declare his generation?" "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."* " Verily, verily I say unto you, before Abraham was, I am."f " And the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we *eheld his glory, the glory as ofthe only begotten of the Father) full of grace and truth."f. " Without con troversy, great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in the flesh."§ "I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last ; I am he that liveth and was dead ; and behold, 1 am alive for evermore, amen."|| " Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world ! " Slain from the foundation of the world!" The altar which consecra- teth " the gift," the priest that presents the sacrifice ; the "second -temple" which eclipses the glory of the " first." All, and in all. Every thing pointed to him ; all ended in him, and all are infinitely exceeded by him. Rejoice, Christians, in this "more sure word of prophesy ;" and " take heed unto it, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn and the day star arise in your hearts."1T Revere the unfathomable depths of the eternal mind. " Secret things belong to God ; but things which are revealed, belong to us, and to our children." Turn all your inquiries to some good account ; re membering that the " end of the command ment is charity," is to inspire veneration and love to God, and good will to men. Seek not to be " wise above what is written :" and " be not wise in your own conceit" In re verence adore an incomprehensible Jehovah, who, by no search is to be " found out unto perfection." Rejoice in hope of that day, when all mysteries shall be unveiled, and the wisdom, the love, and the goodness of God shall shine conspicuously in every creature and every event; when the honours of a Melchizedec shall be communicated to all and to every one of the myriads of Christ's redeemed. When, such as is the head, shall all the members be, " kings and priests unto God." And let us, " by patient continuance in well doing; seek for glory, and honour, and immortality." Amen. * John i. 1. t John viii. 58. § 1 Tim. iii. 16 |j Rev. i. 14.18 t John i. 14. T 2 Peter i. 19. ( 55 ) HISTORY OF ABRAM. LECTURE XIII. And it came to pass, that when the Bun went down, and it was dark, behold, a smolung furnace, and a burning lamp that passed between those pieces. In the same day the Lord made a covenant with Abram.— ^Genesis xv. 17, 18. There is something awfully pleasant, in tracing the manners and customs of ancient times, and of distant nations ; particularly in the celebration of their religious ceremonies. Religion in every age and nation, has been the foundation of good faith, and of mutual confidence among men. The most solemn conventions, and the most explicit declara tions have been considered as imperfect till the oath of God was interposed, and until the other august sanctions of divine worship rati fied and confirmed the transaction. It can not but be a high gratification to every lover ofthe holy scriptures, to find in the Bible the origin and the model of all the significant religious rites of latter ages and of remoter nations; to find in Moses, the pattern of usages described by a Homer and a Titus Livius, as in general practice . among the two most respectable and enlightened nations of antiquity, the Greeks and.Romans. Making of covenants is one of the most frequent and customary transactions in the history of mankind. Controversies and quar rel's of every sort issued at length in a cove nant between the contending parties. The solemn compacts which have taken place be tween God and man, are known by the same name ; and have been confirmed by similar forms and ceremonies. The word translated to make a covenant, in all the three learned languages, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin : that is, according to the uniform application of it in the Old Testament, and the constant phraseology ofthe most approved Greek and Roman authors, signifies to cut, to separate, by cutting asunder, to strike down. The word translated covenant, in the original Hebrew, according as we derive it from one or two words of similar form and sound, sig nifies either a purifier, that is, a purifying victim ; and the phrase, to make a covenant will import, to kill, strike, cut off, a, purify ing victim; or it may signify a grant of fa vour, a deed of gift freely bestowed and so lemnly, ratified by the most high God. .And according to. this derivation it imports, that the party with whom it is made, is put into a new and happier state."* Between man and man, it denotes a new arrangement of certain concerns common to both, whereby * Taylor's Hebrew Concordance, o. 232. they are put upon a clearer and surer foun dation than they were before. Now the order and form of Abram's sacrifice described in the ninth and tenth verses of this chapter, is a full illustration of the meaning of tlie words, " And he said unto him, Take me an heifer of three years old, and a she-goat of three years old, and a ram of three years old, and a turtle dove, and a young pigeon. And he took unto him all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid each piece one against another; but the birds divided he not." And in the text, " the Lord made a covenant" *• e. he cut asunder or divided a purifying victim. Abram, according to God's command, took an heifer, a she-goat and a ram, each of three years old, slew them ; divided each into equal parts ; placed the separated limbs opposite to each other, leaving a passage between ; passed between the parts himself, according to the. custom of the sacrifice ; and when the sun was down, that the appearance might be more visible and striking, the Shechinah, or visible token of God's presence, passed also between the divided limbs ofthe victims, as "a smoking furnace and a burning lamp ;" the final rati fication of this new treaty between God and Abram. By this covenant God graciously became bound to give Abram a son of his own loins, who should become the father of a great nation, and the progenitor, after the flesh, ofthe great Saviour and deliverer of the human race ; and Abram on his part bound himself to a firm reliance upon all God's promises, and a cheerful obedience to all his commands. Such were the awful so lemnities of this important transactioh. What mysteries were contained in these sacred rites, we pretend not to unfold. They were evidently of divine institution, for God ho- - noured them' with his presence, approbation, and acceptance. They apparently had been long in use before this period ; for Abram, without" any particular instruction, prepares and performs the sacrifice ; and they certainly continued long in the church of God after this; for we find the practice as far down as the times of Jeremiah, that is about the pe riod ofthe dissolution of the Jewish monar chy. The. passage in this prophet to which we refer, describes so minutely these ancient 56 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. xui. religious customs, and so strikingly illus trates and supports the history of Abram's covenant and sacrifice, that I trust you will |brgive my quoting it at full length. " This is the word that came unto Jeremiah from the Lord, after that the king Zedekiah had made a covenant with all the people which were at Jerusalem, to proclaim liberty unto them. That every man should let his man servant, and every man his maid-servant, being an Hebrew, of an Hebrewess, go free, that none should serve himself of them, to wit of a Jew his brother. Now when all the princes, and all the people which had entered into the covenant, heard that every one should let his man-servant, and every one his maid-servant go free, that none should serve themselves of them any more, then they obeyed, and let them go. But af terwards, they turned, and caused the ser vants and the handmaids, whom they had let go free, to return, and brought them into subjection for servants and for handmaids. Therefore the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying, Thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel, I made a cove nant with your fathers, in the day that I brought them forth out ofthe land of Egypt, out ofthe house of bondmen, saying, At the end of seven years let ye go every man his brother, an Hebrew which hath been sold unto thee ; and when he hath served thee six years, thou shalt let him go free from thee : but your fathers hearkened not unto me, neither inclined their ear. And ye were now turned, and had done right in my sight in proclaiming liberty 'every man to his neighbour, and ye had made a covenant before me in the house which is called by my name. But ye turned and polluted my name, and caused every man his servant, and every man his handmaid, whom he had set at liberty at their pleasure, to return, and brought them into subjection, to be under you for servants and for handmaids. There fore, thus saith the Lord, Ye have not heark ened unto me, in proclaiming liberty every one to his brother, and every man to his neighbour: behold, I proclaim a liberty for you, saith the Lord, to the sword, to the pes tilence, and to the famine, and I will make you to be removed into all the kingdoms of the earth. And I will give the men that have transgressed my covenant, which have not performed the words of the covenant which they had made before me, when they cut the calf in twain, and passed between the parts thereof, the princes of Judah, and the princes of Jerusalem, the eunuchs, and the priests, and all the people of the land which passed between the parts of the calf; I will even give them into the hand of their ene mies, and into the hand of them that seek their life; and their dead bodies shall be for meat unto the fowls of the heaven, and to the beasts ofthe earth."* Now the expres sions here employed, of '^pplluting God's name, transgressmg his covenant, and not performing it," and the threatened punish ment of this violation, " their dead bodies shall be for meat unto the fowls ofthe heaven, and to the beasts of the earth," explain to us, in some measure, the meaning of those solemn ceremonies with which covenants were executed. And here surely it is not unlawful to employ the lights which are thrown upon this subject by the practice of the Gentile nations, and the writings of those who are styled profane authors. From them we learn, that on such occasions the custom was, that the contracting party or parties, having passed between the divided limbs of the sacrifice, and expressed their full assent to the stipulated terms of the agreement or covenant, in solemn words, which were pronounced with an audible voice, imprecated upon themselves a bitter eurse, if they ever should violate it. " As I strike down this heifer, or ram, so may God strike me with death, if I transgress my word and oath." " As the limbs of this animal are divided asunder, so may my body be torn in pieces, if I prove perfidious." Permit me to present one instance of many, from the two illustrious nations alluded to. The Greeks and the Trojans, according to Homer, having agreed to determine the great quarrel be tween them, by the issue ofa smgle combat between the two rivals, Menelaus and Paris, the terms being solemnly adjusted and con sented to on both sides, the ratification ofthe covenant is thus described, Biad, lib. III. 338.f " The Grecian prince drew the sacred knife, cut offa lock of wool from each ofthe heads * Jer. xxxiv. 8—20. t It may perhaps be amusing to the reader, to com pare the simplicity of a literal prose translation, with the poetical elegance and spirit of the English Homer. The passage follows : " On either side a sacred herald stands, The wine they mix, and on each monarch's hands Pour the full urn ; then draws the Grecian lord His cutlass sheath'd beside his pond'rous sword ; From the sign'd victims crops the curling hair, The heralds part it, and the princes share ; Then loudly thus before the attentive bands, He calls the gods, and spreads his lifted hands : - " ' O first and greatest Pow'rl whom all obey, Who high on Ida's holy mountain sway, Eternal Jove ! and you bright orb that roll From east to west, and view from pole to pole. Thou, mother earth ! and all ye living floods ! Infernal furies and Tartarean gods, Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare For perjur'd kings, and all who falsely swear ! Hear and be witness. If . ,' " With that the chief the tender victims slew, And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw ! The vital spirit issued at the wound, And left the members quiv'ring on the ground. From the same urn they drink the mingled wine, And add libations to the powr's divine ; While thus their pray'rs united mount the sky ; ' Hear mighty Jove ! and hear, ye gods on high I And may their blood, who first the league confound, Shed like this wine, distain the thirsty ground : May all their comforts serve promiscuous lust, ' And all their race be scatter'd as the dust !"" Pope's Iliad, III. 376. LECT. XIII.]' HISTORY OF ABRAM. 57 ofthe devoted lambs, which being distributed among the princes ofthe contending parties, he thus, with hands lifted up and in a loud voice, prayed ; ' O Father Jove, most glori ous, most mighty : O sun, who seest and hearest everything: ye rivers, thou earth, and ye powers who in the regions below punish the false and perjured, be ye witness es, and preserve this covenant unviolated.' Then, having repeated the words of the co venant in the audience of all, he cleft asun der the heads of the consecrated lambs, placed their palpitating limbs opposite to each other on the ground, poured sacred wine upon them, and again prayed, or rather imprecated : ' 0 Jupiter Almighty, most glorious, and ye other immortals ! Whoever shall first transgress his solemn oath, may his brains and those of his children, flow upon the ground like this wine, and let his wife be divided from him and given to another.' Thus when it was agreed to settle the con test for empire between Rome and Alba by the combat of three youths, brothers, on either side ; after the interposition of cere monies similar to those which have been de scribed, the Roman priest who presided, ad dressed a prayer to Heaven to this effect : ' Hear, Father Jupiter, hear prince of Alba, and ye whole Alban nation. Whatever has been read from that waxen tablet, from first to last, according to the plain meaning of the words, without any reservation whatever, the Roman people engages to stand to, and will not be the first to violate. If with a fraudulent intention, and by an act of the state, they shall first transgress, that very day, O Jupiter, strike the Roman people as I to-day shall strike this hog, and so much the more heavily, as you are more mighty and more powerful than me.' And having thus spoken, with a sharp flint, he dashed out the brains ofthe animal." Thus in the three most distinguished na tions that ever existed, we find the origin of their greatness, in similar ceremonies ; em pire founded in religion, and good faith se cured by the sanction of solemn sacred rites. And is it not pleasing to find the living and true God, as in respect of majesty and dig nity, so in priority of time, taking the lead Si all that is great and venerable among men ? We find Moses, the prince of sacred writers, describing a religious sacrifice performed by Abram one thousand nine hundred and thir teen years before Christ, which the prince of heathen poets so exactly describes as the practice of his own country upwards of one thousand years later ; and, which the great Roman historian relates as in use among his countrymen, in the time of Tullus Hostuius, the third king of Rome, before Christ about. six hundred and sixty-eight years. The circumstances of this interesting transaction have led me much farther than I H intended ; I now return to take up the thread of the narration. Abram having returned from the slaughter of the kings ; having achieved the deliverance of Lot his brother's son from captivity ; having paid tithes to Melchizedec, the type and representative of the great High Priest over the household of God, perhaps the Son of God himself, thus early exhibited in human nature to the world; having received the blessing from him, and bidden . him farewell, retires again to the quietness and privacy of domestic life, hum bly confiding in the divine protection, and patiently waiting the accomplishment of the promises. The man who habitually seeks God, is readily and happily found of him. " After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram : I am thy shield, and thy exceed ing great reward."* The din of war, and the gratulations of victory, these transitory and perturbed occupations and comforts being over, intercourse with Heaven recommences and improves : the still small voice of divine favour is again heard — V Fear not, I am thy shield." Abram was become the dread of one confederacy of princes, and the envy of another ; both of them situations full Of dan ger ; but his security is the protection of the Almighty. He scorned to be made rich by the generosity of the king of Sodom ; and his magnanimity and disinterestedness are re compensed by the bounty of the great Lord of all ; "I am thy exceeding great reward." Why should we curiously inquire after the nature of the heavenly vision, and ask in what manner the word of the Lord came unto him? Know we not the secret, the inexplicable, the irresistible power which God possesses, and exercises over the bodies and over the minds of men ? Know we npt what it is to blush for our follies, though no eye beholds us , to tremble under the threaten ings ofa guilty conscience, though no aven ger be pursuing; and to enjoy serenity and peace, in the midst of confusion and tempest ? Whence is this, but from the word of the Lord within us, constraining or encouraging us to hear ? This renewed declaration of the divine favour, draws ftom Abram a dutiful yet pa thetic expostulation, on the condition of his family and affairs ; in which the impatience and fretfulness of the man, mingle with the submission and resignation of the believer. He was grown rich and respected ; he had been victorious over his enemies, and become a blessing to his friends ; but he is sinking into the vale of years, and his great posses sions are ready to descend to a stranger, Eliezer of i'Damascus, the steward of his household. _ Is it any wonder to see a proud, unmortified Haman dissatisfied, though bask ing in the sunshine of royal favour, because * Gen, xv, i. 58 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. xiii. one Mordecai sits in the king's gate, when a pious Abram feels uneasy in the enjoyment of all this world could bestow, because one thing was withheld ? Alas, what condition of humanity is exempted, for any length of time together, from sorrow and vexation of spirit ? How much of the affliction of the remainder of Abram's life, arose from the possession of that blessing, which he now coveted so earnestly ! But surely we should do but slender justice to the holy man, in supposing that the sentiments which he ex pressed upon this occasion were merely the effect ofa natural desire of having children ofhis own body, to whom his large posses sions might descend. The man who rejoiced in the prospect ofthe Saviour's day ; the man who was ready at God's command to offer up Isaac in sacrifice ; the man who had given up every thing nature holds dear, when duty called him to it ; and who took the simple pro mise of God as a full indemnification ; such a manmust, in charity, be presumed to entertain the most liberal and disinterested views, in thus ardently desiring a son. We hear of no disapprobation expressed against his ar dour and impatience; on the contrary, it pro cures from God a more distinct and decisive promise of the speedy accomplishment of his wishes — "And behold, the word ofthe Lord came unto him, saying, This shall not be thine heir ; but he that shall come forth out of thine own bowels shall be thine heir."* The time, though not the manner of the vi sion is fully conveyed to us ; it was early in the morning while it was yet dark, for "he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look now toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them. And he said unto him, So shall thy seed be."f Scripture allu sions to natural objects, are adapted to the ordinary conceptions of mankind. The sun is represented as rising, and setting, and moving round the earth ; and -the stars are represented as innumerable, because this is apparently the case, and justified by the ideas and language of all nations, though the fact be philosophically otherwise. Surely the truth of God, in his promise to Abram, is little affected by the astronomical arrano-e- ment of the heavenly bodies, which latter ages have devised, and whereby the number of those glorious luminaries is determined to a greater degree of accuracy. What the promise means to give the good man full as surance of, is, that his posterity should be both numerous and illustrious beyond all conception. And, if I may be -permitted to hazard a conjecture, and to anticipate an ob servation on this subject, the error of David, many ages afterwards, in insisting on having the people numbered in his reign, which was one ofthe most prosperous periods ofthe Is raelitish history, consisted in his attempting * Gen. xv. i. t Gen. xv. 5. to determine what God would have left un determined. It being an object of much greater importauce to a wise and good prince, to see his subjects thriving, numerous, and happy, than to know the exact number over which he reigns; just as it is much more de lightful and beneficial to a man, to contem plate the beautiful seeming irregularity of the starry heavens, to lose ourselves, as it were, in their glory and immensity, and to enjoy their benign influences, than to fix with the utmost exactness and precision, their number, motions, and distances. According ly, we find, that in the days of Solomon the son of David, when Jewish splendour and populousness were at their zenith, no at tempt was made to discover tlie number of the people ; but in conformity to the obvious intention of God, in the passage now under review, that matter was for ever left in a state of glorious uncertainty. Abram's doubts are now entirely removed ; " he believed in the Lord ; and counted it to him for righteousness."* As God rewards the faithful, not by halves, not sparingly, nor grudgingly ; so all true believers, like faith ful Abram, honour God by an entire and un limited confidence ; and believe not only in hope but against hope. The patriarch thus indulged and encouraged, presumes still far ther on the divine goodness, to entreat some present token of the truth and certainty pf the promises made to him. "And he, said, Lord God, whereby shall I know that I shall inherit it?"f Both from what goes before and follows, we must conclude, that this was not a request of diffidence, but of desire and love. We neither desire nor exact from our friends' formal obligations to show us kind ness : this would imply a doubt of their at tachment ; but we dearly love to bear about us the tokens of their affection. In like manner Abram asked for a sign, not that he • suspected any thing, but because he loved much. It was taken, as it was meant; and friendship was strengthened by the request and the grant of it. The covenant which ensued, and the ceremonies by which it was ratified, have already been considered. But some far ther circumstances here recorded well de serve our notice. The order for the sacrifice was given early in the morning. The former part of the day was employed in preparing it ; and we may suppose all things ready by noon. Abram has done what was incumbent upon him ; but the great God is not limited to seasons or forms ; Abram must therefore wait and watch — wait till God condescends to appear— watch, that his sacrifice be not plundered or polluted. At length, about the going down ofthe sun, the approach of deity is felt. " And when the sun was going down a deep sleep fell upon Abram : and lo, an hor ror of great darkness fell uponhim."| Howin- * Gen. xv. 6. t Gen. xv. 8. J. Gen. xv. 12. LECT. XIV.] HISTORY OF ABRAM. 59 supportable must be tlie visitations of God'san- ger ! (I tremble while I speak) if the visions of his mercy and love are so awful and tre mendous ! While he was in this ecstacy, tlie principal events that should affect his family for the space of four hundred years, are re vealed to him ; and the issue is to be, at the end of that period, the quiet and certain pos session ofthe very land which he then inha bited ; even fi-om the Nile to the Euphrates. But we trespass on your patience too long. Let us, in conclusion, raise our thoughts to a new covenant, established on better pro mises ; to a sacrifice whose " blood cleanseth from all sin ;" " to a new and living way con secrated into the holiest of all, through the veil, the Redeemer's flesh." Let us look to that bodyjvhich was broken upon the cross, the atonement for transgression ; " to that in heritance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fedeth not away ;" " to that kingdom wliich cannot be moved," that government and peace of " which there shall be no end ;" to that "great multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, which stand before the throne' and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, and palms in their hands;" to that day, when " they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." Is every discovery of God a mixture of light and darkness, "a furnace that srnoketh, a lamp that burnetii," " a pillar of cloud, a pil lar of fire ?" Let us rejoice, and walk, and live in that light ; let us revere, adore, and preserve an humble distance from that dark ness. Are the visits of God's wrath intolerable to the wicked ; and the approaches of his gracious presence awful even to the good? Let us, then, thmk of drawing nigh to him, only through the son of his love, in whom he is ever well pleased. • Is the covenant on God's part " ordered in all things and sure ?" Are all " the pro mises" in Christ "yea and amen?" Is the " glory" they propose and ensure, " yet to be revealed ?" " Be not faithless but believ ing ;" " cast all your care upon him, for he careth for j-ou." " Now we see through a glass darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in part ; but then I shall know even as also I am known." " He who cometh, will come and will not tarry." " The grace of our Lord Jesus be with your spirits." Amen. HISTORY OF ABRAM. LECTURE XIV. He that believeth shall hot make haste. — Isaiah xxviii. 16. The ways of Providence and the workings ofthe human mind do not always keep pace one with another. In the pursuit of their ends, men are at one time careless and indolent at another, over eager and hasty ; but God is ever advancing towards his, with a steady, progressive, majestic pace. When we get sight of a favourite object, we grasp at it through possibility and impossibility ; we hurry on to possession, too little scrupulous about the means. To God all things are possible ; and " he is the rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are judgment : a God of truth and without iniquity ; just and right is he." Men ignorontly and weakly judge of their Maker by themselves, and foolishly attempt to regulate the divine procedure by their own preconceived opinions of it : " Be hold I thought," said Naaman the Syrian, " he will surely come out to me, and stand, and call upon the name ofthe Lord his God, and strike his hand oyer the place, and re cover the loper ;" but God had said, " Go and wash in Jordan seien times, and thou shalt be clean." It is rare to find a faith which steadily, cheerfully, and constantly walks hand in hand with the purpose and promise of Heaven. We either " stagger at the promise, through unbelief," or impatiently strive to bring for ward the accomplishment by indirect me thods. When we look into history, how unlike do events appear from the form into which they were previously shaped by the fond expecta tions of the persons concerned ! The Jews, in the person of Messiah, looked for a prince who should revive the faded splendour of David's throne ; but the Messiah whom God raised up, established a kingdom " of right eousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." The disciples are dreaming of sit ting at' their Master's right and left hand, when "the kingdom should be restored to Israel ;" he is sending them forth to " suffer shame for his name." The sentiment of the prophet which I have 60 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. xiv. now read, as the foundation of another Lec ture on the history of Abram, is just and striking. " He that believeth shall not make haste." Faith neither lags behind, nor strives toaoutrun the word of God. " Thus saith the Lord," is its rule and measure ; it endures, waits, proceeds, acts, refrains, as " seeing him who is invisible," But in the most composed, firmest, and feithfullest of believers, we find the frailties and infirmities of the man fre quently predominant ; and a slighter tempta tion sometimes prevailing, after more severe arid difficult trials have been withstood and overcome. Nothing can exceed the solem nity with which God ratified his covenant with Abram, as recorded in the fifteenth chap ter of Genesis. Under the sanction of the most awful forms and ceremonies, a son is promised, the future father of a numerous offspring; and an inheritance is allotted to that chosen seed, by him who has all things in heaven and in earth at his disposal. Abram takes the word of God as a full security ; believes and rejoices. He had now dwelt ten years in Canaan : and notwithstanding his advanced period of life, we find him discover ing nothing like eagerness or impatience ; he " believed" and therefore did " not make haste." But though he was not the first to devise an undue and intemperate method of arriving at the accomplishment of the pro mise, we find him ready enough to adopt one of this nature when it was suggested to him. It was now put beyond a doubt that Abram should become a father, but it has not yet been declared explicitly that Sarai shall be a mother. With the anxiety natural to wo men in her circumstances, however, we may suppose her to hope till she could hope no longer. At length, her feelings as a wife gave way to her concern about her husband's glory and happiness ; and she consents to Abram's having children by another, rather than that he should not have children at all. Projects formed and executed in haste, are generally repented of at leisure ; and when we fly in the face either of nature or of religion, we shall speedily and infallibly find both the one and the other much too powerful for us. Sarai's was a lot to be envied by most women ; beau tiful and beloved even to old age ; mistress of an ample fortune, and a numerous train of domestics : the wife of a prince, and, what is much more, of an amiable and excellent man. But the glory and joy of all these flat tering circumstances were marred and di minished by one perverse accident, " she bare Abram no children." Not blindly and capri ciously, but in wisdom and in righteousness, the great God apportions to the sons of men good and evil m this life ; that none may be exalted above measure, and that none may sink into dejection and despair. During Abram's sojourn in Egypt, Pharaoh, smitten with Sarai's beauty, had made his court to her, on the presumption of her bemg a smgle woman, by the usual modes of attention, and presents numerous and costly, suitable to his rank and the manners of the times : " sheep, oxen, he-asses, men-servants, maid-servants, she-asses, and camels." Of the female ser vants probably bestowed upon that occasion, one is now brought particularly into, view, and occupies a conspicuous place hencefor ward in this history. The deception attempt ed by Abram, in making his wife pass for a sister, is very little to his credit; and his accepting presents from Pharaoh, circum stanced as he was, and knowing what he did, was far fi-om being an honourable proceeding ; indeed, no good could be expected to come of it ; and though God did not, at the time, reproach him for his conduct by a verbal re proof, he is now preparing, by his righteous providence, to make him feel that he had apted wrong. Thus, the monuments of our faults become the instruments of our punish ment. Sarai proposes to her husband to as sume this Egyptian handmaid, Hagar, as a secondary, or inferior wife : in hope of build- ing up a family by her, and thus of making the promise to take effect. Unnatural as this may appear, it is far from bemg without a parallel. The truth is, it is very natural, arid very common, to try to get rid of a present pressure, though with the hazard of subject ing ourselves to a heavier burthen. Every thing was wrong here. A shameful distrust of God ; an attempt to introduce a foreign and perhaps an idolatrous mother into the family of Abram : a most unwise and incon siderate tampering with her husband's affec tion ; a foundation laid of probable, if not of certain domestic jealousies and quarrels ; evil done in vain expectation that good may come of it. Abram complies with the sug gestion of his wife, and Hagar conceives. It requires not the gift of prophecy to foresee the consequence. Hagar becomes vain and insolent, and Sarai is thoroughly mortified. The handmaid now considers herself as her mistress's equal, if not her superior; she views Abram's vast possessions, and vaster prospects, as entailed on her posterity. Little and wicked minds are soon elevated, and as easily depressed. The whole of Sarai's be haviour, is that of a peevish, unreasonable, disappointed woman. The wise scheme was of her own contriving ; and, now that she feels the effect of her impetuosity and rash ness, she turns the edge of her resentment against her innocent husband ; "And Sarai said unto Abram, My wrong be upon thee : I have given my maid into thy bosom, and when she saw that she had conceived, I was despised in her eyes : the Lord judge be tween me and thee."* How weak, wicked, and absurd is all this ! Had the good man * Gen. xvi. 5. LECT. xiv.] HISTORY OF ABRAM. 61 formed a deliberate design of injuring and insulting her, she could not have employed harsher language; and yet whatever evil has been committed, was her own devising. But the language of passion is ever contra dictory and inconsistent. "My Wrong be upon thee." Why should it? "My folly recoils upon myself," would have been the language of truth and justice. She dares not, even in her rage, accuse Abram of in continency, but reluctantly discerns and ac knowledges her own rashness : " I have given my maid into thy bosom, and when she saw that she had conceived, I was despised in her eyes," The tide of anger says not, it is enough, knows not where to stop : " The Lord judge between me and thee." Who would not conclude, from an appeal so so lemn, that she has the better cause ? And yet, she is appealing to God in a case where she was clearly, consciously in the wrong. I like not hasty references to Heaven. A truly serious spirit will reflect twice before it in terposes the name of God on any occasion^ and shudder at the thought of employing it upon a false or frivolous one ; an angry spirit sticks at nothing. For this reason, I will sooner believe a plain, unprofessing man, on his simple word, than ten thousand common swearers, under the sanction of as many oaths. See into what disorder one ill-advised mea sure has thrown a happy, well-regulated fa mily. Abram's ill-judged compliance with the precipitate advice of his wife, has em broiled him in contention with herself; it constrains him to connive at her cruel treat ment of an unhappy woman, who is at least to be pitied as much as blamed ; and renders the prospect of the promised seed a heavy affliction instead of a blessing. Sarai is be trayed by the eagerness of her spirit first into an absurdity : then into unkindness and undutifulness towards her lord; then into profanity and impiety towards God ; then by an easy transition, into barbarity towards a wretched slave, who was entirely at her mercy, who had been brought, without any high degree of criminality, into a condition which claims compassion and attention from all ; brought into it by herself too : and this , to the endangering,,for ought she knew, of all the hopes of her husband's family, and the greater interests of the human race. Hagar, hapless wretch ! an object of commiseration throughout; led, perhaps reluctantly, to her master's bed, elevated to a transient gleam of hope, exulting jn the prosperity of a mo- * ment, hurried instantly back, by all the seve rities which jealousy can inflict, into the hor rors of slavery, and driven from visionary prospects of bliss, into scenes of .real distress; ready to perish \yith the innocent unborn fruit of her womb, in the wilderness, by fa mine, or the jaws of some ravenous beast ! for " when Sarai dealt hardly with her, she fled from her face." In what deep and accu mulated wo, I say, may one inconsiderate step involve the children of men ! And if good and well-intentioned people suffer thus severely from one act of rashness and impru dence, who but must tremble to think of the fearful consequence of deliberate wicked ness ? A thousand volumes written against polygamy, could not lead to a clearer, fuller conclusion against that practice, than the story under review. Mark now, how seasonably and suitably God interposes to rectify all this disorder. — When we have wearied ourselves with our own devices, and snared ourselves in the works of our own hands, Providence takes up the case, subdues it to its own wise and gra cious purposes, and turns evil into good. Ha gar flies from the face of her unkind mistress, but happily for her, she cannot flee from God. The interest which Abram now has in her; gives her an interest in the peculiar care and protection ofthe Almighty. This is the first time we read in scripture of the appearance of an angel ; and it was to reprove, exhort, and succour an helpless af flicted woman : and thus is mercy ever more ready to come at, the call of misery, than jus tice to pursue the footsteps of guilt. From the whole tenor of the history, we are led to conclude, that this heavenly vision was the uncreated angel, God in the form, and per forming the office of a "ministering spirit;" for this angel assumes the names and attri butes of God, speaks of Hagar's present con dition, and future prospects, with the know ledge peculiar to Deity; and describes the extraordinary future greatness of the male child, with which she was pregnant, as his own work. The event demonstrates whose the pfediction was : and Hagar evidently considered the person who spake with her in this light; for she ascribes to him the in communicable 'name Jehovah, and adores him as the omniscient, omnipresent God. — " And the angel of the Lord said unto her, I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for multitude. And the angel of the Lord said unto her, Be hold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son, and shalt call his name Ishmael ; be cause the Lord hath heard thy affliction. — And, he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him, and he shall dwell in the pre sence of all his brethren. And she called the name ofthe Lord that spake unto her, Thou God seesf; me : for she said, Have I also here looked after him that seeth me."* A great number of striking circumstances press upon us in the careful perusal of these words. Does God condescend to exercise all this care and tenderness about a person so * Gen. xvi. 10—13. 02 HISTORY OF ABRAM. [lect. xiv. obscure, helpless, and unbefriended as Ha gar ; then who is beneath his notice, or un important in his sight ? Are the secondary and subordinate designs of his -providence of such extensive and permanent consequence to the world? .Then, of what infinite and eternal weight, is his first, great leading ob ject? If an Ishmael be introduced into the world with so much pomp and solemnity, what must the birth of an Isaac be ? And what must it be, when God bringeth his own first-begotten upon the scene, whom all the angels are commanded to worship? How astonishingly awful is that foreknowledge, which discovered, before he was born, Ish- mael's character ; and that power which pre determined and affected the character'-and state of his posterity tp the latest ages, while as yet their progenitor was in his mother's Womb ? How are all the designs of the Most High, in the course of his adorable provi dence, and the execution of them, rendered subservient to one glorious purpose, which rises superior to, and absorbs all the rest — the plan of salvation by a Redeemer ! How wisely are the children both ofthe bond wo man and of the free, reminded of the lowness and helplessness of their original ! " A Sy rian ready to perish was my father," says the one ; " an Egyptian bondmaid ready to perish was my mother," says the other. What a happy circumstance it was for Hagar to have lived so long in Abram's house! Liberty in Egypt had not proved a blessing so great, as slavery in Canaan. To be ex alted to the dignity of a mother to princes ! To be introduced to the knowledge of the living and true God ! How different are the appearances of Providence, considered at the moment, and viewed through the medium of reflection and experience ! Under the im pulse of sorrow or of joy, we cry out, " all these things are against me," or " it is good for me to be here ;" but when the account comes to be arranged, after the transport is over, we find ourselves necessitated to trans fer many articles to the opposite pages, and to state that as favourable, which once we called adverse ; and that a misfortune which once we accounted a blessing. ' The history informs us of Hagar's flight, but leaves us to draw our own conclusions Tespecting her return. Indeed, we may now suppose all parties to have been brought a little to themselves. The solitude and dan gers of the wilderness, and the apparition of the angel, awful, though in mercy, have of course, greatly diminished in Hagar's mind the rigour of her mistress's treatment, and she is glad to return to her former habitation. The sudden disappearing of her maid ; the just apprehension of the evil which might have befallen a desperate woman in her deli cate situation; time, serious reflection, and remorse for her cruel and unjust behaviour, must surely have humbled the spirit and mol lified the heart of Sarai, and disposed her to receive the returning fugitive, if not with marks of external complaisance, at least with secret and silent satisfaction. And Abram, always wise, and gentle, and good, would now necessarily rejoice in the restored peace of his family ; in this fresh demonstration of the divine tenderness towards himself and all who belonged to him; in the farther enlarge ment and extent of the blessing promised ; and in the prospect ofthe final and full accom plishment of all that the Lord had spoken. According to the word of the angel, Ha gar in due time bears a son to Abram, in the eiffhty-sixth year of his age, and the eleventh after his departure from Ur of the Chaldees. To preserve forever the memory ofthe divine interposition, the name given to the child by the angel in the wilderness, is put upon him by his pious father, to whom, no doubt, Ha gar had carefully related the whole trans action, Ishmael, "God shall hear," because God heard, pitied, andrelieved her affliction. And such was the origin of the father and founder of the Arabian nation ; a people, who, in their character and manners, through every period of their history, evince from what root they sprung, and verify the pre diction concerning their progenitor, " he will be a wild man, his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him." And history illustrates the expression ofthe angel, " and he shall dwell in the pre sence of all his brethren," For whereas .the slavery and subjection of all other nations > make a considerable part of their history, ' that of the Arabs is entirely composed of a relation of their conquests, or their independ ence. They are at present, and have con tinued through the remotest ages, during the various and successive victorious expeditions of Greeks, Romans, and Tartars, a separate, a free, an independent, and an invincible na tion; a mighty band of illustrious robbers, united among themselves, and formidable to all the world ; inhabiting a vast country of one thousand three hundred miles in length, and one thousand two hundred in breadth — one region of which, from the purity and sa lubrity of its air, and the fertility of its soil, is deservedly denominated the happy; it pro duces the finest fruits, spices, and perfumes in the world, and is remarkable for breeding the most beautiful and useful animals of their kind, horses, camels, and dromedaries. We hasten to conclude this Lecture, by adding to the reflections already made, this farther one, that we are not to judge of the greatness and importance of the designs of Providence, by any worldly marks of distinc tion and pre-eminence.. The posterity of Ishmael was much earlier, and has been' much longer established, and existed in a much higher degree of national dign'ty and LECT. XV.] HISTORY, OF ABRAM. 63 consequence, than the posterity of Isaac. But in the line of Isaac, not that of Ishmael, run the promises of life and salvation. To Isaac and not to his elder brother, pertained " the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the>law, and the service of God, and the promises," and of him " as con cerning the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God, blessed forever." The things which are highly esteemed among men, are often of no price in the sight of Him, who " hath chosen the foolish thmgs of the world to ^confound the wise, weak things to confound tlie mighty, base things of the world, and things which are despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things which are, that no flesh should glory in his presence." With Ishmael we have nothing to do, nor with his posterity ; they are to us only a wild man and a wild people, inhabiting such a region ofthe globe. But in Isaac and the fortunes of his family we are deeply in terested indeed, as the apostle Paul, writing to the Galatians, clearly evinceth*:, and his words shall be the evangelical illustration of the subject. "Abram had. two sons; the one by a bond maid, the other by a free wo man, but he who was of the bond woman was born after the flesh ; but he of the free woman was by promise; which things are an allegory," (that is, one thing is expressed, and another hinted at or signified,) "for these are the two covenants: the one from the Mount Sinai, which gendereth to bond-^ age, which is Hagar ; for this Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia, and answereth to," or is in the same rank with, " Jerusalem which now is, and is in bondage with her children. But Jerusalem which is above is free, which is the mother of us all. For it is written, re joice, thou barren, that bearest not: break forth and cry, thou that travailest not, for the desolate hath more children than she which hath an husband. Now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise : but as then, he that was bom after the flesh, per secuted him that was. born after the Spirit, even so.it is how. Nevertheless, what saith the Scripture? Cast out the bond woman and her son ; for the son of the bond woman shall not be heir with the son of the free woman. So then, brethren, we are children not ofthe bond woman, but ofthe free."* Behold the two prime branches of Abram's family from their birth down to this day, se parated, supported, distinguished from the rest of mankind, and from each other, a standing proof of the power and providence of God, and a demonstration of the authenti city of that revelation which we acknow ledge as divine, and on which we will build all our faith and hope. " Behold, the coun sel of the Lord shall stand forever, and the purpose of his heart to a thousand genera tions." God grant us wisdom to understand and do his will, to1 the glory of his great name, and our own eternal salvation. Amen, * Gal. iv. 22—31. HISTORY OF ABRAM. LECTURE XV. Be not forgetfal to entertain strangers ; for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. — Heb. xiii. 2. When men are disappointed in their ex pectations, it is natural for them to become negligent about the .performance of their "duties. Irritated. or grieved at one thing, they grow careless in every thing.; and be cause another has failed in affection or re spect to us, we suffer' ourselves to hehave unkindly and disrespectfully to others. The effect which mortification, disappointment, or injuries, have upon truly good minds, is, however, the reverse of this ; the vexation or distress they themselves have endured, is the strongest of infeentives to prevent, as far as they are able, similar occasion of affliction to their brethren of mankind. '• Men stand • continually in need of each other, and therefore every man is bound to give, his countenance, to show kindness, and to grant support to every man. We cannot move a single step through the world, with out being brought' into connexion with strangers, -and of course, without having, op portunities afforded us of doing or receiving some instance of hospitality. To be careless or unkind in'this respect, then, is to be at once unwise, inhuman, and unjust. Chris tianity has taken into its service every. valua ble and worthy principle of our nature, and calls tbe whole catalogue of human virtues its own. As we are continually reminded, 64 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. XV. in the course of providence, of our being pilgrims and strangers upon earth, so we are strictly and repeatedly enjoined by the laws of the gospel, to be attentive and kind to strangers. "Be given to hospitality," says Paul. "Use hospitality one to another with out grudgings," says Peter ; and in the words I ¦ have . read, the Apostle recommends the same duty of humanity, "be not forgetful to entertain strangers," which he enforces by a motive which every heart must feel, "for thereby some have entertained angels una wares." It is of this motive, and ofthe his tory to which it refers, that we are now to discourse. After a delay of ten years, the promise of a son is made good to Abram. But as he consulted not God in the means of obtaining that blessing, so God consults not his views and expectations in the character and desti nation ofthe son, given to him. For it is one thing to be blessed and to prosper in the gifts of Providence, and another, to be blessed in the course of the promise, and according to the tenor of the covenant. The seed which the Most High sware that he would raise up, was to prove an universal benefit to man kind ; but the son whom Hagar bear, was to be "a wild man; whose hand should be against every man, and every man's hand against him :" Abram therefore is apparently as far as ever from his favourite object; antl as a farther trial of his faith, perhaps to pu nish him for deviating from the strict line of his. duty, though with an honest intention, thirteen years more are permitted to elapse, and yet no symptom of the expected mercy appears. At that period, while the improbability, in the course of nature, was daily increasing, Abram is again visited with the visions .of the Almighty. Our attendance upon God must be constant and assiduous, and it is equally our interest arid our duty to wait upon him ; but if he makes himself known to us at all, at whatever season, in whatever manner* it is infinite grace and condescen sion. Jehovah's appointed time is now at length come to enter on the performance of his own. work in his own way. The1 very first word that proceeds from his lips removes . every difficulty, though natural obstacles rnight seem increased : " I am the Almighty God,"* or God all-sufficient; fear therefore no failure of the covenant on my part, for what truth hath spoken, that. shall omnipo tence bring to pass ; and see that there be no unfaithfulness on thine, " walk before me, and be thou perfect." The former declarations' concerning a numerous offspring are renew ed, and an alteration is made in the patri arch's name, importing his relation to a mul titude of princes and nations who should spring from him. To the eye of nature the # Gen. xvii. 1. title is premature ; but faith considers that as done which is promised. Observe Abra ham's posture while God talks with him;" "he fell on his face."* The presence of the Almighty is the loudest call to humility, and the more any one knows of God, the more he must fear before him. Behold Abraham fallen to the ground, and angels covering their faces with their wings, and tremble thou, O man, before him ! But the trial of Abraham's faith and obedi ence is not yet over. God has appeared, not to fulfil the promises under the first cove nant but to enter into a second : and, instead of receiving the long expected son, he is commanded to perform an .unpleasant and painful operation upon his own body, and upon all the males ofhis family. , To qualify, however, the bitterness -of this prescription, the promise becomes more express, and brings the darling object closer to the eye ; it, is now declared that Sarai,, whose name too was changed, as a witness and token of the event, should bear a son, and that next year should at length crown all his' wishes, and evince the truth and faithfulness of God. Abraham acquiesces with gratitude and joy. He had believed and trusted- God; when the event was more obscure and remote, and now that it is more distinctly seen, and brought to the very eve of accomplishment his heart exults with purer and more sensi ble delight, This the scripture expresses, by- saying, he fell on his face and laughed; a circumstance which Providence instantly lays hold of, and perpetuates to every future generation the memory of Abraham's faith on this ocdasion — the son that should be born, shall by his name, Isaac, he shall laugh, express that emotion, which his pious, be lieving father felt, when the will of God was revealed to him. Abraham laughed in faith, and is rewarded every time he beholds his son, or' hears his name pronounced, by the approbation of God and his own conscience: ' Sarah afterwards laughed in incredulity, and was as often reproved for her unbelief. We hear not Abraham inquiring into the reasons or meaning of God's covenant of circumcision '; and we will imitate his pious reserve and submission. It was sufficient to him, and be it so to us, that thus God would. have it to be. That the great Jehovah should have distinguished the descendants of that family from ,all the families of the earth, by this token, and continue to the present hour thus to distinguish them, after almost every other badge of difference is ob literated and lost; that the posterity of Abra ham should persevere in this practice, through a period so extended, and that no other nation should ever have adopted it as an established rite of their religion, is one of those apparently unimportant circumstances * Gen. xvii 7. LECT. XV.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 65 which are ready to escape the hasty eye, but which, in connexion witli other proofs, esta- Jlished the truth and certainty of the scrip- lire revelation, and the constant interposition of Divine Providence in the affairs of men beyond the power of contradiction. Behold then the rite of circumcision is performed ; and Abraham sits down in the patient expect ation of the appointed hour of merciful visit ation. One day, while he was enjoying the cool ness ofthe shade at his tent door, in the heat ofthe day, three men, under the appearance of travellers, presented themselves to his view. These were three angels, say some ofthe Jewish Rabbins, and without hesitation, they furnish us with their names too, Mi chael, Gabriel, and Raphael. A few of tlie Christian fathers, on the other hand, contend, that here was a visible representation of the most holy Trinity, exhibited to Abraham as three, addressed and acknowledged by him as one. That something more than created excellence was there, cannot be doubted, after a careful perusal of what Moses has related upon this occasion. But whether the mystery of the Trinity was thus, and then, revealed to the church in the covenant head of it, we presume not to affirm. It is appa rent that the patriarch did riot, during the former part of the interview, comprehend the nature and quality of his guests, as he neither performs the worship due to the most holy God, nor preserves that awful distance, which even the presence of an angel must inspire ; and the Apostle, alluding to him, in the text, says, he " entertained angels una wares," that is, not knowing he did so. The scene that follows is a beautiful pic ture of ancient manners, and wonderfully coincides with the customs of the other na tions of remote antiquity, as transmitted to us by their historians and poets, particularly Homer* that careful observer and masterly painter of nature and human life. Abraham immediately starts from his seat with all the agility of youth, at the sight of the strangers ; and with all that glow of af fection which is natural to a good man, who had himself known the heart of a stranger, he tenders them every accommodation and refreshment which his simple habitation could afford. Sweetness of temper, easiness of behaviour, and kindness of disposition, are peculiarly engaging in old people, because these qualities do not so frequently adorn life's decline. The invitation hospitably given is cheerfully accepted. True kindness, which is true politeness, attends to the little wishes and wants of those whom we entertain. .Water to wash the feet of the weary traveller is a refreshment, though not so necessary as a morsel of bread to comfort his heart, yet, jn a sultry climate especially, not less grateful. We remember slight attentions after we have forgotten great benefits. The proud man makes a feast to gratify himself; the hospitable man, to rivet the bonds of friendship, or cherish the soul of the stranger. What a delightful simplicity runs tlirough the whole story ! The fare, " cakes of fine meal, baked upon the hearth" by the hands of Sarah herself; a "calf from the herd," of Abraham's own choosing ; butter and milk, the produce of their own pasture ; their canopy, the spread ing branches of an old tree ; their attendants, the man who had in former days put kings and their armies to flight; the subject of their conversation, Abraham's family affairs. .Contrast with this the madness of a modern fashionable entertainment ; the profusion of far-fetched luxury, the emulation of wealth and pride, the ingenuity employed in con triving and administering incentives to ex cess, the gibberish of compliment, the re straints of ceremony, the tinsel of false wit, the noise of mirth Without joy, to the expul sion of truth and nature ; a costly and pain ful collection, where nothing is wantin'g, but the very things which constitute a feast, plenty of wholesome fere, unaffected friend ship, moderation, good humour, and good sense. When we are doing our duty, we are in the way of procuring for ourselves gratifica tion ; and if there be a virtue which is its own reward, hospitality is that virtue. Abra ham now enjoys it to the full. But little does he think what a repast his divine guest is providing for him in return. Sarah, ac cording to the manners of the times, had re mained invisible, confining herself to her own separate tent. «The angel now inquires concerning her, on purpose to introduce a conversation respecting the object of this visit ; and assuming his proper character of Jehovah, subjoins a direct promise, that with in the course of a year from that day, Abra ham should have a son by her. Sarah, whom curiosity had drawn towards the door of the tent to listen, overhears this conversation, and not knowing the promise or the power of God, treats it as a thing impossible, and laughs, not in joy but in derision. She is observed, detected, and reproved of Him who is at once faithful, good, and merciful ; holy,_ just, and severe. But why is Abraham called to answer for the infirmity of his wife ? Was it to render the reproof more pointed to Sa rah ? As, indeed, what can be so galling to an ingenuous mind, as to hear an innocent person called in question for our fault ? The criminal now stands discovered, she is dragged from her lurking place, and stands abashed and confounded, to make her defence. Ah how dangerous it is, to have* deviated once from the path of rectitude ! How one false ,step 6* *"# HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. XV. leads to another, and another, and another, till conviction and shame close the scene. The first wrong step here was the indulgence of an idle curiosity, a dangerous if not a sin ful principle. People who listen, generally hope or fear to hear something about them selves, and it seldom happens that they are entirely gratified with what they hear. The next error was her secret disbelief of a pro mise so frequently and so solemnly repeated : this is followed by the weakness of thinking to escape the notice of one who beheld her though unseen, and could read her heart, though her person was not in view ; and fi nally, deliberate falsehood attempts to con ceal her preceding faults. God neither overlooks nor forgets the er rors of those, towards whom he has thoughts of love ; and happily the purposes of his grace are not to be defeated by the forwardness and folly of men. Sarah, in spite of her incredu lity, shall become the joyful mother ofa son, and that son shall be the source of blessings innumerable, unspeakable to mankind. God in his holiness hath sworn it, and " is any thing too hard for the Lord ?" The business of this important visit being settled, the strangers rise to depart, and look as if they would go towards Sodom; and Abraham, not satisfied with having performed one instance of hospitality, follows it up to the last with kindness and attention, " he went with them to bring them on the way." Two of the three, it would seem, now disappear ed, and Abraham is left alone with the third, and from the conversation that ensues, we have no room left to doubt that he was the Son of God, come down to execute the ven geance of Heaven upon the sinful cities of the plain. " And the Lord said, Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do ; seeing that Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations ofthe earth shall be blessed in him ? For I know him, that he will command his children, and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judg ment ; that the Lord may bring upon Abra ham that which he hath spoken of him. And the Lord said, Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous, I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, which is come unto me ; and if not, I will know. And the men turned their faces from thence, and toward Sodom : but Abraham stood yet before the Lord."* The same person descends to bless Abraham, and to destroy Sodom : thus the same gospel is " a savour of life unto life, and of death unto death, in them that believe, and in them that perish ;" and thus shall the same divine person be revealed in' the end of the world, in " flaming fire, taking vengeance on them * Gea. xviii. 17—23. that know not God, and obey not the gospel," and "to be glorified in his saints, and ad mired in all them that believe."* Abraham having obtained mercy himself, becomes an intercessor for his sinful neigh bours. The judgments of God are very aw ful to a serious mind; fools only make a mock at sin, and its fearful consequences. But the whole scene is too interesting and instructive to be brought forward in the close of a Lecture, especially as it is necessary, before dismissing you, to make some reflec tions of a practical tendency from what has been spoken. You see, my friends, of what moment the salvation of a lost world is in the sight of God. At how many times, in how many different manners, did God speak of this sub ject unto the fathers ? How many embassies of angels; how many appearances of the mighty Angel of the covenant himself? As if the great God had been carrying on no de sign from the beginning, but one, a design of love to guilty, fallen men : that one, which of all others guilty, fallen men treat with the greatest slight and contempt. What ! shall that purpose and plan which occupied the eternal mind from everlasting ; to mature and execute which the world was created ; which has been declared to man by so many signs in heaven above, and on earth beneath, by the tongues of so many prophets, by so many oracles ; to announce which angels and archangels have descended from their thrones ; and to accomplish which, God was made manifest in the flesh, tabernacled among men, and proclaimed the great salva tion — shall it be announced, unfolded, exe cuted in vain ? And will thoughtless, incon siderate creatures, continue to treat it as a thing of nought ? O when shall we cordial ly enter into the views of God our Maker and Redeemer, and earnestly pursue the same .object with him, the salvation of our selves and others ! God is not sensibly present with us as he was with Abraham, but he is as really so, as if the eye beheld him, and as if we conversed with him face to fece. O, man, God is in thy heart and conscience : God is in this place ; in this book : and he is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. The visions of the Al mighty to Abraham are visits of mercy to you. How easily could he draw aside the veil which conceals him from your eyes, and where we see nothing but empty space, dis cover to us a marshalled host of " chariots and horsemen of fire." But he is to be now discerned only by the eye of faith, and we must be satisfied to " see in a glass darkly." The awful period approaches when the veil shall drop, and we ourselves, disembodied spirits, shall see and feel, and converse with the Father of spirits. Let, " thou God seest • 2 Thess. i. 8, 10. LECT. XVI.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 67 me," O man ! be the leading, commanding idea of thy life, in the city and in the field, in society and in solitude, by night and by day, and when you come to die, you will find you have not far to go ; to be " absent from the body" is to be " present with the Lord." Is it so pleasant and improving to contemplate the detached fragments of the plan of Providence and redemption, which is all we can attain in this state? What will it be in yonder world of bliss, to be endowed with a capacity of comprehending the whole vast design, and to have the harmony, con nexion, and dependence of the several parts revealed to us by Him who is both the au thor and finisher of it. Eagerly hungering after the fruit of this tree of life, " which grows in the midst of the paradise of God," this tree of knowledge of good but not of evil, let us be humbly and modestly, but carefully and constantly searching the scrip tures, in which alone the way of eternal life is declared, and that life is in the Son of God. And may God give us understanding in all things; and to his name be praise. — Amen. HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. LECTURE XVI. And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the friend of God. — James ii. 23. Op all the temporal blessings which God in his exuberant goodness hath bestowed up on mankind, one of the greatest, if not the chief, is a sincere and virtuous friend. Into the composition of this character enter all the amiable and excellent qualities which our nature possesses; and in a commerce of vir tuous friendship, we find the exertion ofthe noblest principles, and a display of the wor thiest actions. The person who is approved and esteemed of wise and good men, must himself be wise and good. To what a pitch of dignity then is the patriarch Abraham raised ? Venerable in possessing the esteem of men ; .infinitely more venerable, as distin guished by the approbation and friendship of God. Volumes written in his praise, and containing a particular enumeration of his virtues, could not say more than the few words of the Apostle which have now been read. All that is necessary, in order to ex plain them, is to have recourse to his history, to mark his character, to observe his conduct; and on the other hand to trace the dispensa tions ofthe Divine Providence towards him, and to attend to the manner in which it pleas ed God to treat him, in order to learn how this sacred friendship was constituted and in what it consisted. And on the part of Abra ham, we shall find cheerful and prompt obe dience, unbounded trust and confidence, pro found reverence and fervent love; on the part of God, the most winning condescension, the tenderest affection, the most unshaken constancy. One essential quality of true friendship entered particularly into is this, namely, communication of purpose and de sign. Abraham indeed' could have no view or intention but what lay open to the eye of God, as soon as formed within his own breast; but the designs of the Most High could be known to him only as they were revealed. We are presented with a very remarkable instance of such gracious communication, in the close of that interview, the commence ment of which has already passed under re view. God having confirmed the faith of Abraham, and reproved the infidelity of Sarah respecting the promised seed, unfolds a far ther design he had in this solemn visit to our world. He has come to execute judg ment as well as to show mercy ; for " our God is a consuming fire." But the hands of Omnipotence are as it were bound up, till Abraham the friend of God is made acquaint ed with what is meditating. " Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I do?" As afterwards he said to Lot, when he wished to hasten his flight from the midst of destruc tion, "Escape thither, for I cannot do any thing until thou be come thither." The character given of Abraham well de serves the attention of every father, of every master. " For I know him, that he will com-. mand his children, and. his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the' Lord, to do justice and judgment ; that the Lord may bring1' upon Abraham, that which he hath spoken of hhn."* The secret di vulged under this sacred seal, is God's deter. "Genesis xviii. 19. 68 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. xvi. mination speedily and signally to destroy Sodom, and the neighbouring cities whose profligacy was arrived to such a height, as suffered not justice to rest. Whatever thoughtless men may think of sin, it can be no light thing which reaches the eternal throne, calls forth the terrors of Almighty Power, and brings down the Most High from heaven to earth. Abraham, justly alarmed at this intimation, with the sympathy and tenderness natural to a good mind, takes up on him to intercede in behalf of his unhappy neighbours, now placed on the very brink of ruin. A truly gracious spirit is never harsh and unmerciful. The vilest criminal, when delivered up to the punishment he justly merits, excites compassion in the feeling and humane. The persons who themselves most need forgiveness, are generally the most un relenting, and make lightest of the judg ments of God upon others. Lot, allured by the beauty and fertility of the plain of Sodom, had chosen to fix his residence there, when he parted from his uncle, and is now ready to pay dearly for the , imprudence of that choice. When we view an object but in one light, that which strikes us first and flatters us most, and when we make choice of it for a few more obvious and attractive qualities, we are laying up for ourselves sorrow and remorse in the day when experience has opened our eyes to the discovery of circumstances unheeded or over looked before. In Abraham's place an ordi nary mind would have enjoyed, at least, a temporary triumph, when Sodom was threat ened ; the triumph of sagacity and ease, over rashness, imprudence, and danger. But fer different concerns occupy Abraham's breast ; concern about the interests of God's glory, and about precious souls ready to perish. The whole intercessory scene is affecting in a very high degree, and needs no com mentary to illustrate its force and beauty. I shall simply read it. " And Abraham drew near and said, Wilt thou also destroy the righteous with the wicked? Peradventure there be fifty righteous within the city ; wilt thou also destroy, and not spare the place for the fifty righteous that are therein? That be far from thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked, and that the righteous should be as the wicked : that be far from thee : shall not the judge of all the earth do right ? And the Lord said, If I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then.I will spare all the. place for their sakes. And -Abraham answered" and said, Behold jiow I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but" dust "and* ashes, Perad venture there shall lack^five of the fifty righteous ; wilt thou destroy all the city for lack of five? And he. said, If I find there forty and five, I will npt destroy it. And he spake unto him yet again, and said, Perad venture there shall be forty found there: and he said, I will not do it for forty's sake. And he said unto him, Oh, let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak ; Peradventure there shall be thirty found there. And he said, I will not do it, if I find thirty there. And he said, Behold, now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord: Peradventure there shall be twenty found there. And he said, I will not destroy it for twenty's sake. And he said, Oh, let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak yet but this once : Perad venture ten shall be found there. And he said, I will not destroy it for ten's sake."* It was thus that God, and Abraham the friend of God, lived and conversed together; it was thus this sacred friendship was mu tually expressed. The fearful catastrophe that presently ensued, falls not within the design of the present Lecture, which is to trace the history and character of the patri arch Abraham. The next time he is brought into our view, we behold him at an awful dis tance contemplating that destruction which he could not by entreaty and intercession avert. Dreadful change ! That beautiful plain which had allured the eyes of Lot, in one eventful day converted into a vast smok ing furnace. Cities and their inhabitants swallowed up in a deluge of fire. "The Lord reigneth, let the people tremble." Abraham had lived sixteen years in the plain of Mamre ; but now, whether by the particu lar direction of Heaven, or prompted by a natural desire to withdraw from a neighbour hood rendered unwholesome and unpleasant by the change which had passed upon it, and which incessantly presented such a tremen dous monument of divine wrath to his eyes, he removes to the south-west corner of Ca naan, between Kadesh and Shur, near the wil derness, and sojourned in the kingdom of Ge rar, the country of the Philistines, and which afterwards was by lot assigned to the tribe of Judah. And here again, Abraham, through fear and suspicion, is induced to employ the same deceit which he had practised in Egypt respecting his relation to Sarah, and thereby runs into the very danger which he meant to avoid. His conduct on this account is un doubtedly very reprehensible. He was to blame for judging so dishonourably of man kind, as to think ill of a people whom he knew not — " Surely the fear of God is not in this place : and they will slay me for my wife's sake."f Surely the fear of God was not before his own eyes, when he had re course to a subterfuge so mean, to preserve the honour of his wife, and his own life. He was to blame for employing artifice a second time, after God had extricated him so merci fully from his first error. Had not God said, " I am thy shield ?" and yet he fears where no fear was. Had not God said, " walk be- * Gen. xviii. 23—32. f Gen. xx. 11. LECT. xvi.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 69 fore me, and be thou perfect ?" and yet he yields to a slight temptation. The very apology which he makes for his conduct, when the truth was brought to light, disco vers a mind not perfectly satisfied with itself. "And yet indeed she is my sister : she is the daughter of my father, but not the daughter of my mother; and she became my wife."* O, how lovely, how majestic is simple truth ! It seeks no retirement stands in need of no defence, is ever consistent with itself, ever inspires with courage him who practises it. Falsehood strips the mind of its conscious dignity, keeps a man perpetually in fear, puts invention continually on the rack to prevent the means of detection. But tlie weakness of man shall not make the purpose of God of none effect Sarah, now pregnant of the promised seed, is miraculously protected of Heaven, and the truth of God in Abimelech's dream exposes Abraham's waking deception. " Surely, O Lord, the wrath of man shall praise thee." Abimelech, by the various uncommon cir cumstances which had affected his family and kingdom, from the time that Abraham had come into it, being fully persuaded, that he was a favourite of Heaven, endeavours by presents and courtesy to attach him closely to himself, and prevails with him to accept a habitation in his country. There, it was so determined of Providence, Sarah, was deliver ed of the long expected son of promise. Time creeps or flies to us, according to our hopes or our fears, our, sorrows, or our joys; but with God, there is no quickness or slowness of progression, no distance of place or time. Our eagerness and impatience cannot ac celerate, our reluctance or aversion cannot retard his purpose a smgle instant of time. The joy of such an event is rather to be ima gined than described. The birth of a child is always matter of unutterable satisfaction to the mother at least ; what then must have been the solid, the heart-felt joy of Abraham and Sarah, on the birth of a son, the heir of great possessions, the father and founder of a mighty nation, the progenitor, according to the flesh, of the Saviour of the world ; given by promise, and raised up by a miracle ! Sarah herself, it would appear, performed the maternal office of suckling this precious child ; neither her high rank, nor abundant affluence, nor advanced period of life, are pleaded to exempt her from this task of na ture. According to the custom ofthe times, Abraham made a great entertainment on the day that Isaac was weaned, when probably he was solemnly recognized as Abraham's heir, and by some public act invested with his rights as such. This would naturally excite the envy and displeasure of Ishmael, and produced that insolent or contemptuous behaviour, which our translation renders by * Gen. xx. 12,, the word " mocking," and by which Sarah was so much incensed, that she insisted on the immediate banishment of Hagar and her son. No created joy is either pure and un mixed, or of long continuance. Sarah's com fort is marred by the brutality and insolence of Ishmael to her son, and not improbably by tlie fear she entertained of one so much ad vanced in age, stature, and strength above Isaac, and of such a wild untoward disposi tion. Abraham's peace is destroyed, and his life embittered by the necessity he is under of driving from his house his own child and the unhappy mother. Whether the good man were criminal or not, in the assumption of Hagar as his concubine, sure I am, first and last, he smarts severely for it. And Isaac, the covenant head and representative of the church, begins at an early period of life indeed, to suffer persecution from the jealousy and malignity of the serperit's issue. Thus, in every state and condition of human life, God sets one thing against another, that we may still and ever be brought to the re collection, that " this is not our rest." We are more surprised at the slender provision with which Hagar and Ishmael are dismiss ed, than at the dismission itself. That the patriarch, for the sake of peace at home, should consent to part with the bond woman and . her son, is , very conceivable ; but that they should be turned adrift into the wide world, without protection, without attendant, without provision, except so much bread and water as the wretched mother could carry upon her own shoulders ; these are circum stances, which, on the usual principles of human conduct, appear altogether strange and unaccountable. But in God, the father less and the friendless ever find mercy. Lost in the wilderness, outcast from society, dis owned and rejected, ready to perish with hunger and thirst, they meet with attention from Him who feeds the ravens, and without whom a sparrow faileth not to the ground. We may well suppose that Ishmael's ex pulsion from his father's house and fortunes, and the way of life into which it forced him, would greatly increase his natural ferocity of temper, and contribute to form and fix that character which was given of him by the angel before- he was born, " he shall be a wild man ; his hand will be against every man, and every ma^'s hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his bre thren." God brings his predictions to pass, not always, nor generally, By miraculous in terposition, but by* the operation and concur- , rence of natural pauses. !'He became an archer," lived'by declaring war on the beasts ofthe field, and gradually brought himself to bear, and even to prefer that way of living, which had at first been obtruded upon him by the strong .hand of necessity. So happily is our nature framed, that use at length re- 70 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM: [lect, xvi. conciles the mind to what was in prospect insupportable, and, at first, galling and dis tressful. - Hagar, in resentment probably of the treatment she had met with, in order to widen«the breach, and to bar the way to re conciliation, forms a marriage for her son with -a woman^of her own country : from which we may conclude that they went back headlong into idolatry. The vexation arising from this domestic sdissension has scarcely subsided, when Abra ham finds himself embroiled with his host and protector, the king of Gerar. The ser vants of Abimelech take violent possession of a well of water which the servants of Abraham had digged, and the quarrel is taken up by the principals themselves. Such is human nature : such is human life. From the beginning to this day, miserable mortals have been contending and striving, and shed ding each other's blood about a well of water, or Some such ground . of dissension. The whole world is a possession too small for am bition and avarice, and selfishness considers that as taken from us which another enjoys. Happily, moderation and good sense prevent ed this offence from coming to an open rup ture. When men are disposed to peace, punctilio is easily overlooked ; but where there is a disposition to . quarrel, it is easy to magnify the most petty neglect into an af front, and to make an unmeaning look the occasion of a breach. The convention be tween Abraham and Abimelech is ratified in the most solemn manner, by the making, that is, the cutting or dividing of a covenant, ac cording to the form observed on a much more important occasion, and which has been de scribed in a former Lecture : namely, The ratification of the covenant between God and Abraham. But why should covenants, pro mises, oaths, be necessary in the commerce of human life ? Alas ! because mOn are false, treacherous, and perfidious. The awful man ners and customs of times that are past, only serve to' convince us, that in every age the corruption of man has been so great upon the earth, that ordinary obligations will not bind ; that without the sanctions of religion, the sense of honour, regard to the rights of man kind, and the supposed rectitude of human nature, are feeble and inefficacious. No other argument is necessary to prove that our nature is depraved, and .that religion is .necessary to man, than the necessity to which men have been reduced', in every age and nation, to secure and preserve the interests of truth and j ustice, by explicit compacts, and solemn appeals to the Deity : by making " an oath for confirmation an end of all strife." Abraham dreads Abimelech as not having the fear of God before his eyes. Abimelech stands in awe of Abraham as under the spe cial protection of Heaven : they agree in one thing, in revering the sanctity of a solemn oath ; which bemg interposed, they both sit down secure and happy; Abimelech rests satisfied that Abraham will do nothing to dis turb his family or government, or injure his person ; Abraham, that Abimelech will not encroach on the rights of private property, or invade those of conscience. This transaction seems to have brought our patriarch to a resting place. He is not himself to be a potentate in the earth, but a great prince courts his alliance, and forms a league with him. The possession of Canaan is postponed, but Isaac is born. The son of the bond woman is banished, but the son of the free woman lives in his house, grows, and prospers, and increases in stature, arid in favour with God and man. We see the good man now in the serenity ofa vigorous, placid old age, enjoying all that this world can bestow on a virtuous mind, united to a wholesome constitution ; unimpaired by in temperance or disease, failing only by the gradual imperceptible decays of nature; capable of enjoying life to the lost I behold the venerable man planting his oaks in Beer sheba, solacing himself with the thought, fSat though his head was soon to be laid low, his Isaac would in due time repose under their shade. How contemptible is the spirit which considers self only in all that it does ! How I honour the man who lives to the end of life ; nay, strives to prolong existence, and succeeds in the attempt, by engaging in pursuits through which posterity is to be benefited ! We will now leave him in this happy tranquillity of life ; and may his trees quickly rise to shelter his aged head from the sultry heat of the noon-tide sun ; and be his Isaac a comfort greater than ever parent knew ; and let the tide of benevolence from his honest heart roll back to its source, in creased with overflowing fulness from the ocean of everlasting love. But the grove which he planted was not merely an amuse ment for old age, or an embellishment of his habitation, it was dedicated to God, and destined as a seat of devotion ; there " he called on the name ofthe Lord." We bid him adieu then at this pleasant resting place of life, rejoicing in the past; and calmly waiting the hour of dismission from all his trials and sorrows. But I dread this treacherous tranquillity. Bodes it not an approaching storm? The event will show. I shall not anticipate, but hasten to conclude this Lecture, with inviting you to a participation in that divine friendship which Abraham enjoyed, arid from which none are excluded; for "the secret of the Lord is with. all them that fear him, and he showeth to them his holy covenant." What is the birth of an Isaac compared to the mani festation of God in the flesh? "To us. a Son is born, to us a Saviour is given," and " in him all the families of the earth are LECT. XVII.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. Let the history of Abraham teach us how vain it is to expect unmixed happi ness in a world of vanity ; and to dread the approach of calamity when we possess un common ease. Let us adore and admire the wonder-working hand of God, which unseen directs, controls, subdues all creatures, and all events, to its own purposes. Let us trust in the Lord and do good, and love, and speak, and practise truth. When we see the father ofthe faithful failing and faltering, let none be highminded but fear, and " let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fell." Did Providence take Ishmael the outcast, the wild man under its protection? Let poor and virtuous parents take encouragement to cast the care of their helpless offspring on the Father of the fatherless and the Judge of the widow. Did ono hasty ill-advised step involve the patriarch in such acute and lasting distress ? Ponder,, then, O man, the paths of thy feet and beware of doing evil, in expectation that good may come of it. By casting your eyes upon the sacred page, you will see what is to form the sub ject of the next discourse. It is a topic well known, and which has been frequently han-1, died", but it is one of those that will ever please and ever instruct. May God bless what has been spoken. Amen. HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. LECTURE XVII. By faith Abraham when he was tried offered up Isaac : and he that had received the promises offered up his only begotten son, of whom it was said, that in Isaac shall thy seed be called ; accounting that God was able Co raise him up even from the dead : fi-om whence also he received him in a figure — Hebkews xi. 17—19. The parts of history which please and in struct us most, are those which exhibit to us illustrious persons in trying situations, hold ing fast their integrity, conductmg them selves with wisdom, and overcoming great difficulty by patience and fortitude, and trust in God. The passages of our own lives which werecollect with the greatest satis faction, and which we find ourselves most disposed to relate to others, are those which, while they passed, were involved in the greatest danger and distress. The memory of past joys is generally insipid and disgustr ing, but the recollection of the perils which we have escaped, the obstacles which we have surmounted, the miseries which we haye endured "and overcome, is in truth the chief ingredient in the happiness of our more tranquil days, and the consolation which a life of fatigue, exertion, and ' calamity, pro vides for the inactivity, feebleness, and re tirement of old age. No man thinks of call ing to his own remembrance, or of'rlescribing to another, the festivity of an gntertainment, a month after it is over ; -but the horrors of a battle or a shipwreck, are thought and talked of with delight, as long as we are capable of thinking *or speaking. What a feast was Abraham preparing for his remain ing years by the sacrifice he tendered upon Mount Moriah ! What a subject of useful meditation, what an example of praise-wor thy conduct, has he furnished to mankind to the end of the world! this is one of the peculiar happy portions of history which at once awaken and interest our feelings ; fire the imagination ; seize, restrain, exercise, improve the understanding, and powerfully tend to affect and influence the conduct. As a scene in private life, we contemplate it again and again, with new and increasing admiration and delight ; as entering into, and connected with the great, the divine plan of providence and redemption, we regard it with religious veneration. Most men, during the bustling .period of human life, amuse themselves with prospects of retreat and tranquillity in its close. And so most probably did Abraham. He had ar rived, through much tribulation, at that pe riod when nature wishes for, and expects to find repose. All that a wise and good man could reasonably propose to himself, he had, through the blessing of Heaven, happily at tained. Religion crowned his multiplied temporal comforts, and opened the celestial paradise to his view. Isaac, the joy of his joy, the essence of all his other felicities, is born, has grown up, is become amiable, and wise, and good. His eyes have seen the salvation of God, and he is ready to depart in peace whenever the summons comes. But ah, how vain to think of rest till the scene be closed indeed, and death have sealed the weary eyes forever! All the trials which Abraham had hitherto endured, are merely superficial wounds, compared to the keen stroke of that two-edged sword which now 72 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. xvn. pierced him, even " to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and mar row." To suffer banishment from his coun try and, friends at the age of seventy-five years; to be driven by famine from the land of promise into a distant country ; to have the companion @f his youth, and the affec tionate partner of all his fortunes, repeatedly forced from him ; to have his domestic quiet disturbed, and his life embittered by female jealousy and resentment ; to be reduced to the necessity of expelling his elder son. from his house, with the slender provision, of a little bread and water : these, taken either separately or in connexion, and compared with the usual afflictions to which man is ex posed, present us, it must be allowed, with a lot of great severity and hardship, but they are lost in the severity of the greater wo yet behind. For " it came to pass after these thmgs," in addition to all foregoing evils, and apparently to the defeating of the great de signs planned by God himself, and in part executed, " that God tried Abraham" in this manner : " Take now thy son, thine only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah ; and offer him there for a burnt- offering upon one of the moun tains which I will tell thee of."* Wc mean not to go into the unnecessary criticism which has been employed with per haps a good intention, to vindicate the divine conduct on this occasion. Surely the infi nitely wise God is equal to his own defence. He has transmitted to us this part of his pro cedure without rendering a reason, without making an apology ; and it is presumption, not piety, which shows on every occasion, an eagerness to reason in his behalf. Is it not sufficient at present to say, that men are very incompetent judges of the divine conduct ; that a view of the detached parts cannot enable us to form a just and adequate con ception of the whole ; and that without knowing the ultimate end and design, we must of necessity have a very imperfect idea of the means and instruments employed ? It were easy to declaim on the horrid idea of demanding a human sacrifice, and of em ploying the hand of a father in a service so unnatural ; on the mischief which might arise from an example so dreadful ! on the manifest contradiction between this mandate and other laws, both general and special; and perhaps it were as easy to refute all such declamation, and to prove it nugatory and absurd. But let any man, learned or unlearn ed, read the story throughout, and if he is not both pleased and instructed, he must either be stupid or fastidious in a very high degree. In what^manner the command of Heaven was communicated to Abraham, we are not informed. It was unquestionably conveyed * Genesis xxii. 2. with so much clearness and certainty, as left him no possibility of doubting from whom it came. And it again leads us to reflect on the irresistible power which God possesses and exercises over our bodies and minds, where by he can communicate himself to us in a thousand ways, of which we are able to form no conception, and against which we should in vain attempt to arm ourselves. It appears to have been in the night season : probably, when, as on a former occasion, " God had caused a deep sleep, and a horror of great darkness tqiail upon him." What a Fnell to the fond paternal heart! Every word in the oracle seems calculated to awaken some painful feeling, and to in crease the difficulty of compliance. A person of humanity like Abraham might naturally be supposed to revolt from the idea of a hu man sacrifice, had the meanest slave of his household been demanded, arid had the choice ofa victim been left to himself. What then must have been the emotions of his soul from the moment its darling object was mentioned by the voice of God, till the mandate was completed. " Take now thy son ;" this must have at once produced eagerness of attention in a mind ever awake and alive to the wel fare and prosperity of Isaac. The tender manner iri which God is pleased to describe that favourite child, would undoubtedly ex cite the most pleasing hope of some new mark of the divine regard to him ; " take now thy son, thy only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest," — and invest him with all the honours of the promise, put him in possession of his destined inheritance ? Ah, no ! Turn him out a wanderer after his brother Ishmael, with a loaf of bread, and a bottle of water for his portion? That had been severe ; but more dreadful still, " and offer him for a burnt of fering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of." Abraham hesitates not, argues not. He who before staggered not at the promise, staggers not now at the precept through un belief. As a proof of his bemg in earnest, he rises immediately, while it was yet early ; he makes all needful preparation for this heavy journey and costly sacrifice, with the utmost serenity and cheerfulness ; he, com municates to no one the order given him, lest the wickedness of others might have shaken his own firmness, or interrupted his progress. Having saddled his ass, for it was. in this simple style that the. great'men of the East, in these better days of the world, used to travel,; having summoned two ofhis young men to attend and assist in the, pre paration, having called Isaac, and cleft the wood for the burnt offering, they proceed to gether from Beersheba for the land of Mo riah. Josephus represents Isaac at this time as in his twenty-fifth year, and describes him, LECT. XVII.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 73 with much appearance of truth, as a young man of singular accomplishments, both of body and of mind. The trial was, without d6ubt, greatly increased to Abraham by tlie delay, and tlie distance of the place of sacri fice. Had the oracle demanded an instant offering, the immediate impression of the heavenly vision would account for the sud denness and despatch ofthe execution. But leisure is afforded for reflection ; parental affection has time to strengthen itself; the powerful pleadings of nature must in their turn be heard;, the oppression of grief, of fatigue, of old age ; the sight, the society, the conversation of Isaac, combine their operation tp make him relent, and return. But though nature knows faith, such as Abra ham's knows not what it is to relent. With steady steps, and unshaken resolution, he ad vances to the fatal spot, now first distinguish ed by the choice of God, for the scene of this wonderful sacrifice ; distinguished in the se quel, as the seat of empire and of religion among Abraham's chosen race ; and finally, distinguished most of all by a sacrifice infi nitely more valuable and important, and of which this of Isaac was but a shadow. Being arrived at the foot of the mountain, which was pointed out by some sensible to ken, the servants are left behind, and Abra ham, armed with the fire and the knife, and Isaac bearing the wood destined to comsume the victim, ascend together. And now, had his faith been capable of failing, could his purpose have changed, the question which Isaac, in the simplicity of his heart, proposed, must have triumphed over his resolution, and decreed the victory to flesh and blood. " And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here am I, my son : and he said, Behold the fire and the wood : but where is the Lamb for a burnt offering? And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offer ing : so they went both of them together."* The heart that feels not this is lost to sen sibility. Every endeavour to illustrate or en force it, were idle as an attempt to perfume the rose, to paint the tulip into richer tints, or to burnish the sun into a brighter lustre. At length with weary steps they arrive at the place which God had told him of. The mighty secret which had hitherto laboured in the anxious paternal breast, must at last be disclosed, and "the lamb for the burnt offering" must be produced. It is not the sacrifice of a bullock or a sheep, which are able to make no resistance ; nor of a child unconscious of its situation ; but of a man, whose consent must be obtained ; and who, either by entreaty, by argument, by speed, or by force, might have delivered himself The Jewish historian presents us with the dialogue which passed between the father * Gen. xxii. 7, 8. K and son on this occasion, striking and pa thetic indeed, but far inferior to the beautiful simplicity of Moses. Having built an al tar, having laid the wood in order upon it, and made all other necessary preparation, the unhappy father is thus represented as communicating to the devoted victim the will of the Most High : " O my son, begged of God in a thousand prayers, and at length unexpectedly obtained ; ever since you were born, with what tenderness and solicitude have' I brought you up ! proposing to myself no higher felicity than to see you become a man, and to leave you the heir of my posses sions. But the God who bestowed you upon me, demands .you again. Prepare then to yield the sacrifice with alacrity. I give you up to Him, who at all seasons, and in all situations, has pursued us with loving kind ness and tender mercy. You came into the world under the necessity of dying ; and the manner of your death is to be singular and illustrious, presented in sacrifice by your own father to the great Father of all : who, we may presume, considers it as unfit and unbecoming, that you should depart out of this life by disease, in war, or by any other of the usual calamities to which human na ture is subject: but who waits to receive your spirit, as it leaves the body, amidst the prayers and vows of your affectionate parent, that he may place it in perfect blessedness with himself. There, you'shall still be the consolation and support of my old age, not in deed by your presence and conversation, but bequeathing me, when you depart, the pre sence and the blessing of the Almighty." Isaac, the worthy offspring of such a father, cheerfully complies, and piously answers — " I should be unworthy of life, were I capa ble of showing reluctance to , obey the will of my fether and my God. It were enough for me that my earthly parent alone, called me to the altar, how much more when my heavenly Father redemands his own." He accordingly submits to be bound, and to be laid as a victim upon the wood. And now behold a sight from which nature shrinks back, and stands confounded ; — a father lift ing up his hand armed with a deadly weapon, to slay his only son, he is already made the sacrifice ; for with God, intentions are acts; and he receives his Isaac a second time from the hand that gave him at first. The voice of God is again heard. It is ever welcome to the ear of faith : welcome when it an nounces heavy tidings, welcome when it de mands an Isaac ; and O, how welcome when it brings glad tidings of great joy ; when it says, " Lay not thine hand upon the lad, nei ther do thou any thing unto him ; for now 1 know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, from me.* * Gen. xxii. 12. 7 74 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. xvii. Abraham prophesied without being con scious of it, when he said, " My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt of fering :" for lo, behind " him a ram caught in the thicket by his horns : and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering instead of his son."* We know but in part, and we prophesy in part, but God sees the end from the beginning; he is tlie rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth, and without, ini quity, just and right is he."f With what different' feelings does the pa triarch descend from the mountain ! His Isaac lives, and yet his sacrifice is offered. He came to yield his dearest earthly delight at the call of God, and he goes away en riched with new blessings and fresh promises. Who ever sacrificed to God and was a loser ? " Who ever hardened himself against God and prospered ?" It is impossible that any one can be so in attentive as not to observe, through the whole of this wonderful history, the mystery of re demption shadowed forth? Is the divine conduct, in this trial of Abraham, dark and inexplicable to human reason ? Angels de sire to look into the plan of gospel salvation, and are unable to comprehend it. Was Abra ham ready at God's command to offer up his only son for a burnt offering ? " God himself so loved the world, that he gave his only be gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."| God had pity upon an afflicted, earthly father, and a devoted child, and sent his angel to de liver him : but God " spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all."{ Isaac was ready to be slain, Jesus was actually put to death. Isaac cheerfully submitted to the will of Heaven, and offered his throat to the sacrificing knife ; and of Jesus it is written in the sacred volume, " Lo, I come, I delight to do thy will, O God, thy law is within my heart ;"|| "he gave himself for us, a sacrifice of a sweet smelling savour unto God." Isaac having first typified the Saviour, pass es into a type of the elect sinner, bound and stretched upon the altar, iii trembling appre hension of the fatal blow. He is reprieved by a voice from heaven; and thus, when there was no eye to pity, nor hand to save our sinful devoted race, a voice is heard from the most excellent glory, " deliver from going down to the pit, I have found out a ransom." " I have laid help on one who is mighty to save." Behold the ram caught in the thick et, conducted and detained of Providence, and substituted as a sacrifice in the room of Isaac, and think of him of whom it is writ ten, "he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chas tisement of our peaee was upon him ; and * Gen. xxii. 13. t Deut. xxxii. 4. J John iii. 16. § Rom. viii. 32. || Psalm xl. 6, 8. with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray: we have turned every one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all."* From the tendered sacrifice of Isaac arose new prospects and new promises to his fami ly ; from the death of Christ sprung up the hope of " an inheritance incorruptible, un dented, and that fedeth not away," to all them that believe. The substituted sacrifice was of God's appointment, providing an accept ance, both in the figurative and the real his tory, and by both we are . -instructed, that when men have the wisdom to submit to, and follow God their Maker, they may safely com mit the issue of all to him. To view the history of Abraham in de tached parts, is to involve ourselves in diffi culty and distress, — to read patiently to the end, is the road to light, and peace, and joy. The prejudiced Jew, and the self-conceited Greek, look at the cross and pronounce it foolishness, or fall over it as a stumbling block; but to them that believe, who wait the issue, who look to the end, " Jesus Christ is the power of God, and the wisdom of God." Presumptuous men will take upon them to judge of a plan which is not yet executed, and will apply to the narrow and erroneous scale of their own reason and understanding, the infinite and eternal designs of the only wise God. When the fabric of creation was completed, God pronounced all to be very good, and then " the morning stars sang to gether, and all the sons of God shouted for joy ;" when the plan of redemption is exe cuted, then, and not till then, let men or an gels presume to judge of the fitness or un fitness of it. Determine nothing before the time. The Lord, and the day of the Lord, is at hand. In meditating on this history, may it not be asked — Who among you is with Abraham sacrificing, I do not say^ his lawful joys, but his sinful lusts? Who among you is rising up early, and, with a resolute hand, slaying his sloth, his pride, his avarice, his lust, his malignity, before the altar of God ? Who among you is rising betimes to "offer unto God thanksgiving :" to contemplate the glo ries of nature ; to adore and admire the won ders of Providence ; to look into the mystery of redemption, and to meditate with new and increasing delight on that love of Christ which passeth knowledge ? The little good which we do, we wish lo be seen of all men ; not like Abraham, who would have his devotiqn neither witnessed nor interrupted by any orle. But glory pursues true goodness, notwithstanding its own mo desty and humility. Why should I suffer myself to be teazed and vexed with the cavils of an unbeliever? Let him start ten thou sand objections, if he will, to the frame of na- * lsaiahliii.5,6. LECT. xviii.] HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 75 ture, the conduct of Providence, or the me thod of salvation. I will thus simply reply; Do you comprehend the whole ? Are you of the privy council of heaven ? Can you ac count for any thing you behold? Do you know to what all these things tend, and in what they are to issue ? Rest Christians, in general, obvious, use ful, practical truth ; and know that devoted- ness to God is the essence of religion, and the sum of human happiness. Look forward to that day when light shall arise out of ob scurity, when all mysteries shall be unveil ed ; when the faculties of the human mind shall be strengthened and increased, and the ob jects contemplated shall be brought nearer the eye, placed in a fairer point of view, and irradiated with a fuller glory; when God shall in tlie most complete and satisfactory manner vindicate his ways to men. The next Lecture will conclude the His tory of Abraham, and the proposed course for this season. If to your former attendance and kind attention, you will indulge me with one audience more, it will increase the affec tionate regard of a grateful heart, and afford an opportunity of expressing that gratitude at greater length. May, God bless all the means of knowledge, of piety, and of improve ment Amen. HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. LECTURE XVIII. These all died m faith, not having received the promises ; but having seen them afar off and were per suaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For thof that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned : but now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly ; wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God ; for he hath prepared for them a city. — Hebrews xi. 13 — 16. What is the amount of human life ? Vanity and vexation of spirit. All our wanderings tend towards the grave. The anxieties and solicitude, the hopes and fears, the disappoint ments and successes which alternately oc cupy and agitate the mind, at lesgth come to one issue, and all-conquering- death settles the account The time is at length come that Sarah must pay the debt of nature. That beauty which conjugal affection doated on, and which princes coveted, becomes deformed with wrinkles ; the cold hand of death chills the fond maternal heart and even the delight of an Isaac is enjoyed no more. The Jewish Rabbins, fruitful in legends, affirm, that grief for the sacrifice of Isaac shortened her life. For that the devil, who had exulted in the prospect of seeing Isaac perish by the knife of his father, to revenge himself for the dis appointment which he felt upon his deliver ance by the angel, conveyed intelligence to Sarah that the sacrifice was actually per formed ; .which news speedily proved fatal to her. As if the oppressive weight of one hundred and twenty-seven years did not suf ficiently account for the death of a frail wo man, withoutthe necessity of a preternatural interposition. Affecting change ! The eyes of Abraham himself cannot now endure to look upon her, whom once he shuddered to .think that the eyes of another should behold with too much I desire ; and he is now as eager to bury her !, out of his sight, as he formerly was to retain the possession of her wholly to himself Let the beautiful and the vain, the gay, the ad mired, and the flattered, think of this and be humbled. The latter end of her life, how ever, is better than the beginning. Tor mented with the unaccomplished desire of having children, subjected to all the hard ships of a pilgrimage state, and stung with the keen pangs of jealousy, almost up to her ninetieth year, life at length subsides into a delightful calm of thirty-seven years more, cheered and cherished by the unabated af fection of her beloved lord, and blessed with the progress and accomplishments of the son of her womb, Isaac, the favourite of God and man. But she must finally make one remove more; not to that country from which she came out but to that land "from whose bourne no traveller returns." A partaker as of the fortunes, so of the faith of Abraham, she sees the promises afar off, is persuaded of them and embraces them ; desires and looks for another countiy, that is, an heavenly. God had promised to Abraham and his seed the possession of Canaan, and lo, it com mences in the purchase, at their full value, of a little field and a cave, for a burying place. He had been threatened with a severe stroke in the demanded sacrifice of Isaac, he is made to feel one in the loss of Sarah. 76 HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. [lect. xviii. The mellowed friendship of so many years, and union cemented at' last by so dear a pledge, could not be dissolved without pain. Abraham is sensible of his loss, and bewails it. His religion is not of that sort which values itself on doing violence to nature ; he knows nothing of that vain philosophy which affects to deny what it feels : neither has an old" age of one hundred and thirty-seven years extinguished in the heart those tender emotions, which the deprivation of an object, once fair, and ever dear, naturally excites. He who does not weep on such an occasion ' as this, is something more or less than a man. But to persevere in bewailing the - dead, to the neglect of our duty to the living-, is both folly and impiety. Abraham's sor row encroaches upon none of the valuable principles of a good mind. His whole con duct in the purchase of the field of Ephron the Hittite, and the cave of Machpelah, ex hibits a soul replete with the most amiable and respectable virtues. Tender and af fectionate, he is desirous of honouring in death the remains of what he prized in life. Noble-minded, generous, and independent, he refuses to show respect to the memory of Sarah with that which cost him nothing. Civil and polite, he repays the courtesy of his neighbours with affability and condescen sion. Scrupulously just and honest, he will give nothing less than the full price, and in full tale, weight, and purity, for what was frankly tendered him as a gift. The dia logue of the twenty-third chapter is a mas terly picture of the beautiful simplicity of ancient manners, and exhibits a strife of unaffected kindness, good-nature, and civili ty, which at once pleases and instructs. Let me beseech you to peruse it carefully when opportunity offers. Would to God such con tentions were more frequent in the world. The purchase is made, the price is paid, possession is made sure, and then was Sarah buried. And thus, first, Abraham became seized ofthe land of promise. So different ly does Providence shape events from \iven me." We hear the word of the Eteenal Father proclaiming aloud; and the myriads of an assembled universe, angels and men, joyfully echo it back, " All is good, yea, very good." Amen. Hallelujah ! HISTORY OF ISAAC. LECTURE XX And it came to pass after the death of Abraham, that God blessed his son Isaac : And Isaac dwelt by the well Lahai-roi. — Genesis xxv. 11. Those scenes in human life which make the greatest figure in history, are far from being the most beneficial to mankind ; nei ther were the persons, whose names have been transmitted to us with the most renown, and whose actions have dazzled posterity with their lustre, either the happiest in themselves, or the greatest blessings to the age in which they lived. To make one man a hero, how - many garments musthavebeen dyed in blood? And what are the acclamations of a triumph, but the miserable echo of the cries of the wounded, and the groans of the dying ? We are this night to trace the history ofa man of peace : the history of one, who was not indeed exempted from his share of tlie ills which flesh is heir to, but whose afflic tions, bemg private and domestic, were pa tiently borne by himself, and disturbed not the repose of others; the history of one, who, by the example of his piety and virtues, did more to instruct and to bless mankind, than all the conquerors which ever existed, from Nimrod of Assyria, down to Frederic of Prussia. The life of Isaac, for seventy-five years of it, is blended with that ofhis illus trious father. For though, upon the face of the narration, the birth of Esau and Jacob does not appear till considerably after the death of Abraham, yet, by comparing dates, we find, that the lads must have been fifteen years old when their grandfather died. And we may justly consider it as no slight trial of the faith both of the fether and son, that Isaac the heir of the promise, should live twenty years childless, from his marriage with Rebekah. But their patience of hope, their importunity of prayer, and their conn- 84 HISTORY OF ISAAC. [lect. XX. dence of feith, are at length rewarded by two sons at once. I mean not to recapitulate the extraordi nary circumstances of Isaac's conception and birth, as they have already been considered in the history of Abraham. We shall only take up those particulars of his story which are more personal and peculiar; in which Isaac himself was either an agent or a suf ferer. And, we find him at an early period indeed, feeling distress and suffering perse cution. The day he was weaned, how was the festivity of that joyful occasion embittered to his childish, innocent heart, by the cruel taunts and mockings of his brother Ishmael! It is remarkable that almost all, at least the severest trials which this patriarch endured, arose from his nearest and dearest relations. Hated and scorned from the womb, by his brother; devoted in sacrifice of his father; called early to mourn the loss of his affec tionate mother; afflicted for twenty years with the barrenness of his only and beloved wife ; vexed from their very conception, with the strife of his jealous sons, struggling for superiority; mortified and grieved to the heart, with the inconsiderate, unwise, idola trous marriages of his favourite Esau ; prac tised upon, and deceived in old age and blind ness by the address and cunning of his wife, and younger son; involved in quarrel upon quarrel with his powerful neighbours, through the rashness and contentiousness of his ser vants : never faulty, yet throughout unfortu nate. Indeed a man's liableness to distress and disappointment is in exact proportion to the number and quality of the good things which he possesses. Do we enjoy pecu liar delights? We are on the brink of danger. At the partiality of, Sarah to such a son as Isaac, we need not be at all surprised. It is pleasant to observe, however, that this par tiality neither corrupted his understanding nor his heart Neither the indulgence which he met with, nor the prospects to which he was born and brought up, seem to have ren dered him, on any occasion, insolent or as suming. And maternal fondness met with its dearest, best reward, in filial duty and tenderness. Sarah lived respected, anil died lamented, by her only and beloved son. In reviewing the sacrifice of Isaac, that I may not encroach on your time, I shall only make this remark — that thismemorable trans action was not less a proof of the feith of Isaac, than of Abraham himself. As the obe dience ofthe father was prompt and cheerful, so was that ofthe son. If the resignation of Abraham merits praise, the submission of Isaac claims no less; for his consent must undoubtedly have been obtained. In both it was "a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, and a reasonable service ;" and the blessing pronounced from heaven on that oc casion, applied to both, equally and in the same manner. The next important event of Isaac's life, upon the sacred record, is his marriage. Swallowed up of sorrow for the loss of his mother, or absorbed in devout meditation, he leaves all concern about his future fortunes, and establishment in the world, to the care and wisdom of his father. And he thereby reproves the forwardness and self-sufficiency of our young men, who presume to think for themselves in every thing before they have learned to think at all; who attempt the works of men with the knowledge and the strength of children. In the various particu lars of this transaction, we have a beautiful and interesting picture of the simplicity of ancient manners and customs. Is it not a custom rather ancient and obsolete, to see all parties piously acknowledging God, upon such an occasion as this? Is it not rather uncommon to see a prudent father, anxious to match his only son with virtue and reli gion, not with rank and affluence, to the en dangering of his moral and religious princi ples? With us, the most valuable accom plishments, whether bodily or mental, go for nothing, unless set off with gold; but Rebe kah, without a dowry, was with jewels and gold courted to the arms of Isaac. Has the female heart alone in all ages been the same ; perpetually accessible to the allurements of finery, presents, and praise ? Where shall we now look for servants such as Abraham's, at once affectionate to his master, faithful to his trust, and filled with reverence to his God. This part ofthe history is an excellent com mentary upon that injunction of the wise man, " In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he' shall direct thy paths."* Abraham's ser vant has hardly finished his address to heaven, when lo, Providence which works unseen, unknown, unobserved by us, has brought the subject of his prayer already to his eye. And in what place, in what employment is the destined bride of Isaac found ? Indo lently reclined under a canopy of state, or issuing forth to breathe the evening air, ac companied by a numerous and splendid reti nue of domestics? No, my fair hearers, look at Rebekah, beautiful, and young, and high born, bearing her pitcher on her shoulder to the well, to draw the evening's water for the family — and learn, that the humble, yet use ful employments of domestic life, are a vir tuous woman's most honourable station; that whether in virginity, wedlock, or widow hood, God and nature have destined you to occupations, not perhaps highly honourable in the eyes of unfeeling wealth, or giddy dis sipation, but highly consequential to the hap piness of others, and therefore essential to your own. Look yet again to Rebekah, and learn affability, and kindness, and condescen- * Prov. iii. 6. LECT. XX.] HISTORY OF ISAAC 85 sion — learn at once to perform your duty, and to promote your interest It suits the early bloom of life, it suits your sex, it is congenial to your natural propensities, to be gentle, to be courteous ; and, believe me, it is equally conducive to your honour and ad vantage. The obliging deportment of Rebe kah to the servant, paved the way to her advancement to the rank ofhis mistress. And can you think the dignity of Isaac's future wife in the smallest degree impaired, by her civilities to his servants, or by her humanity to the poor dumb brutes which followed him? Believe me, an insolent, unfeeling, uncomply ing young woman, is an odious, contemptible, unnatural — a monstrous thing. Look at Re bekah yet once more, my beloved daughters, and learn openness, frankness, sincerity. — Was she deficient in virgin modesty, that most attractive of all female graces, if, when asked, " wilt thou go with this man ?" she ingenuously replied, "I will go." No; but the honest simplicity of nature was not then corrupted and disguised by modes of beha viour, the beggarly refinement of modern education. Then, what the heart and con science dared to avow, the cheek blushed not at hearing, the tongue scrupled not to utter. I cannot yet cease to speak of that sweet that amiable creature. Mark again, I beseech you, as she approaches her des tined lord, how female delicacy, how maiden diffidence and reserve, resume their empire ! "She alighted off the camel, she took a veil and covered herself." And where, and how was Isaac found of his fair spouse ? He had gone out " to medi tate, or to pray in the field at the even-tide." This is the leading, prevailing lineament in the good man's character : a heart turned to devotion, an eye continually directed to wards heaven. Meditation and prayer are the proper improvement of all mercies past, and the best preparative for mercies yet ex pected ; a cordial balm for the woes which we already endure, and an infallible antidote to the poison of those evils which we have yet to fear. • What is not to be hoped for, from an union built on such a foundation ? The fear and love of God on both sides; calmness, wisdom, fidelity, and affluence on the part ofthe husband; humility, decency, meekness, frankness, and discretion on the part of the wife ; a mutual desire of pleasing, and of being pleased. " Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah's tent, and took Re bekah, and she became his wife; and he loved her : and Isaac was comforted after his mother's death."* So wisely and so graciously hath God provided a suitable re lief from every human calamity. And thus Providence prepares us, in one form of the school of relative duty,- for a higher and a higher still, till we have filled every station *Gen. xxiv. 67. 1 with some degree of comfort and of credit, The transition from a dutiful and affectionate son, to a kind andindulgenthusband, is natu ral and easy. And here, my young friends, you are furnished witli a plain, but import ant rule, for forming the great choice of life. Is an undutiful child likely to make a good husband or wife ? Have I reason to expect that one who has violated the first law of nature, of morality, of religion, will fall at once, and without preparation, into the more complicated and more difficult duties of the conjugal state ? But what lot of humanity is free from anxiety, free from disappointment, free from pain ? The heir of Abraham's wealth ; but what signifies Abraham's wealth ? The heir of the promise goes childless. Who is so foolish as to look for perfect happiness in a world of vanity, in a valley of tears ? Those to whom the blessing of children is denied, are fretful and discontented ; and those on whom it is bestowed, are in terror, anxiety, and vexation every hour. Happily, I hear of Rebekah's suggesting, no dangerous, no unwarrantable expedient as a remedy for this sore evil ; and holy Isaac thinks of seek ing relief there only, where he was accus tomed to seek, and to find tlie cure of all his ills. " Isaac entreated the Lord for his wife, because she was barren : and the Lord was entreated of him, and Rebekah his wife conceived. And the children struggled to gether within her ; and she said, If it be so, why am I thus ? And she went to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said unto her, two nations are in thy womb, and two man ner of people shall be separated from thy bowels : and the one people shall be stronger than the other people ; and the elder shall serve the other."* He asked a child, and his prayer is answered by the gift of two sons. And thus Providence, often slower than our wishes and desires, frequently com pensates that delay by greatly outdoing our requests and expectations. But lo again how care and sorrow arise out of our great est comforts ! The children are hardly con ceived when their strife begins ; and Isaac has as much reason to entreat the Lord, that his wife might be spared in the pangs of an unnatural labour, as he formerly had, that she might be delivered from the infelicity of barrenness. Indeed, "who knoweth what is good for man in this life, all the days of his vain life, which he spendeth as a shadow ?" But this we know, " that all things work to gether for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."! The strife which thus began in the womb, becomes visible at the birth, and continues through life : nay, is transmitted to posterity. The remark of the fanciful and ingenious bishop Hall on the passage, is to this pur- * Gen. xxv. 21—23. t Eom. viii, 28. 8 HISTORY OF ISAAC. [lect. XX. pose. " Before Rebekah conceived she was at ease : so before spiritual regeneration, all is peace in the soul : but no sooner is the new man fonned in us, but the flesh conflicts with the spirit There is no grace where there is no unquietness. Esau alone would not have striven ; for nature will ever agree with itself Never any Rebekah conceived only an Esau, or was so happy as to conceive none but a Jacob : she must be the mother of both, that she may have both jpy and exercise. This strife began early : every true Israelite begins his war with his being. How many actions which we know not of, are not. with out presage and signification. In this con test Esau got the right of nature, Jacob of grace : yet that there might be some pre tence of equality, lest Esau should outrun his brother into the world, Jacob holds him fast by the heel, so his hand was bom before the other's foot. But because Esau was some minutes the elder, that the younger might have better claim to that which God had promised, he buys that which he could not win. If either by strife, or purchase, or suit we can attain spiritual blessings, we are happy. Had Jacob come out first, he had not known how much he was indebted to God for his advancement." Thus far the bishop. And thus, at the age of threescore years, and after twenty years from his mar riage with Rebekah, Isaac became the happy father of two hopeful sons. And here, the expiration of your time obliges me to inter- Tupt his story. But I must not conclude the Lecture till I have, in a very few short hints, endeavoured to show you the analogy of Isaac the son of Abraham, and Jesus Christ the son of God. They were both raised up for one and the same purpose ; even to manifest the mercy .and love of God to fallen men ; the one as the bright and morning-star to usher in the day, the other as the meridian sun, " travel ling fn the greatness ofhis strength." Isaac, the natural root and progenitor of Christ: Christ, the spiritual author, root and head of Isaac. Isaac was the son of much expecta tion, the subject of many prophecies. The set time of his birth was determined and foretold by almighty Power, by unerring Wisdom, long before it happened ; thus the birth of Christ, the desire of all nations, was announced to the world by a cloud of wit nesses, not years, but ages, centuries, many centuries before the time. The time, the place, all the circumstances attending it, were written as with a sun-beam, so as to render mistake impossible. Both Isaac and Christ were conceived out ofthe usual course of nature, that the finger of God might be seen and acknowledged in both events; Isaac of a mother beyond the natural possi bility of having children, Jesus of an im maculate virgin. Isaac was early hated and persecuted ofhis brother, the son ofhis own father ; and the persecution of Jesus from the sinful world he came to save, began at his birth, continued through the whole of his life, and issued in a shameful, painful, and accursed death. " He came to his own and his own received him not. He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." But what was seen in the mountain ofthe Lord, forms the closest resemblance, and af fords the sublimest instruction. In the sacri- "fice on Mount Moriah, we behold the father and son like-minded in presenting it cheer fully at the command of Godt Abraham with held not his son, his only son, and Isaac vo luntarily surrendered himself, as a lamb, for a burnt offering. And on Mount Calvary what do we behold ? " God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso ever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."* " God spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, and how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?"t And Jesus gave himself for us, " a sacrifice ofa sweet smelling savour unto God." He " loved us, and washed us from our sins in his blood." Here also the Father and Son like-minded, and in the same view, and for the same end, the redemption of an elect world. " O the height and depth, the length and breadth, of the love of God : it passeth knowledge !" The private personal character of Isaac, a man of calmness, contemplation, and peace ; the dutiful son ofhis affectionate mother; the respectful observer ofhis father's will, might, without doing violence to the subject be brought into comparison with the pure and perfect character of his antitype, whose spi rit nothing could discompose, whose nights were spent in prayer, and his days in doing good; "whose meat and drink it was to do the will ofhis Heavenly Father, and to finish his work," and whose dying breath uttered the accents of filial affection, and provided a son, a protector, and a home, for his desolate, afflicted mother. O the glorious excellency of that character, which exhibited the exam ple of every personal, every relative virtue : which comprised the essence of all that is amiable in every other character, and left all created goodness at an infinite distance be hind ! Look to Isaac and be instructed. Look to Jesus and " grow in grace," and go on to wards perfection, and "press towards the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." The next Lecture, with the divine permis sion, will contain the remaining part of the life of Isaac, from the death ofhis fether to his own. May God communicate saving know ledge to us all, by every mean of instruction: and to his name be praise in Christ. Amen, " Joluriii. m. f Rom. viii. 32. ( 87 ) HISTORY OF ISAAC. LECTURE XXI. And he went up from thence to Beer-sheba. And the Lord appeared unto him the same night, and said, I am the God of Abraham thy father; fear not, for I am with thee, and will bless thee, and multiply thy seed, for my servant Abraham's sake. And he builded an altar there, and called upon tho name of the Lord, and pitched his tent there: aud there Isaac's servants digged a well — Genesis xxvi. 83— 25. It is a pleasing and an instructive view of tlie Divine Providence, to consider one and the same great design as carried on to ma turity, in periods and by persons the most re mote from each other, without communica tion of intelligence, without concurrence or exertion among themselves; to behold the great God moulding, guiding, subduing the various passions, purposes, and private inter ests of men to his own sovereign will; to be hold the building of God rising in beauty, advancing towards perfection, by the hands of feeble workmen, who comprehend not the thousandth part of the plan which they assist in executing, and who, instead of co-operat- ing, frequently seem to counteract one an other. One digs his hour in the quarry ; an other lifts up his axe, and strikes a stroke Or two in the forest ; a third applies the square and the compass to the stone which his neighbour had polished. But their labours, their views, their abilities, however different, all promote the same end ; and though they and their endeavours be frail and perishing, the work in which the Almighty employs them is progressive, is permanent is immor tal. — Here a shepherd, there a king ; here a little child, there a sage ; here a legislator, there a conqueror ; here a deluge, there a conflagration, fulfils the design of high Hea ven; and the glorious fabric of redemption rises and rises, though patriarchs, and pro phets, and apostles sink, one after another, into the dust. Man often begins to build, but is unable to finish, because he had not counted the cost ; but God " seeth the end from the be ginning?' He can never want an instrument, who has heaven, earth, and hell at his dis posal. " Surely, O Lord, the wrath of man shall praise thee," Satan is thy chained slave, and "ten thousand times ten thousand mighty angelsminister unto thee." How then can thy aim be defeated? How can thy counsels fail ? The personal characters ofthe three lead ing patriarchs of the house of Israel, differ exceedingly in many respects, and their man ner of life differs as much, while their -ruling principle is tlie same. The faith of Abraham, ardent and intrepid, was ever ready to en counter the most threatening dangers, to un dertake the most difficult employments, and to render the most painful and costly sacri fices at God's conjmand. The faith of Isaac, placid and contemplative, sought the happi ness of communion with God in calmness and solitude, and satisfied itself with the secret, untumultuous delight of beholding his family built up, and the promises of God advancing to their accomplishment. The faith of Jacob, active and persevering, wrought upon and excited by the peculiarities of his ever-vary ing condition, supported a life of much bustle and industry, and surmounted disappoint ments ancf afflictions the most mortifying and oppressive. For it is the office of this divine principle, not to alter, to suppress, or eradi cate the natural tempers and dispositions of men, but to guide, impel, or control them, in conformity to their proper destination. Abraham, sensible of the ungovernable, encroaching spirit of Ishmael, ofthe numer ous and pressing claims of his younger chil dren, and of the gentle, yielding, unresisting nature of Isaac, had, with the prudent fore sight of a good parent made such a disposi tion of his temporal affairs in his life time, as was most likely to prevent contention and mischief after his death. Ishmael had been dismissed many years before, had already be come the head of many numerous and power ful tribes, "twelve princes according to their nations,"* and from habit, inclination, and necessity, had contracted a fondness for a roving, erratic course of life. He had been brought into a transient connexion with his brother Isaac, by an event which softens the most rugged and obdurate dispositions, the death of their common father ; and their re sentments, for a time at least, perhaps for ever, are buried in the tomb of him to whom they owed their birth. But difference of interest affection, and pursuit speedily sepa rates them again. Ishmael betakes himself to his favourite occupations in the desert, and Isaac abides quietly in his tent, and tend ing his flocks, by the well Lahai-roi. The sons of Abraham by Keturah had beera • Genesis xxiv. 13—16. HISTORY OF ISAAC. [lect. XXI. more recently removed, with a suitable pro vision, into a distant part of the country.* So that upon his father's demise, Isaac found himself in the quiet possession of by far the greatest part ofhis immense wealth, but ex cluded from the society of those whom his own sweetness of temper and sense of duty, and the proximity of blood, would have led him to cultivate and cherish. And thus riches, the object of universal desire and pursuit, create more and greater wants than those which they are able to remove. By exciting envy, jealousy, and suspicion, they separate those whom nature has joined; friendship is sacrificed to convenience ; and, «to enjoy in security what Providence has given him, the unhappy possessor is con strained to become an alien to his own bro ther. We cannot refrain from bestowing, in this place, a posthumousijpraise upon Abra ham, who, uninfected by the tenacity of old age and selfishness, cheerfully surrendered, while he yet lived, a considerable part of his property, in order to insure the future peace of his family, and wisely left his prin cipal heir a poorer man, that he might leave him happier and more secure. How unlike those sordid wretches, who will scatter no thing till death breaks into the hoard ; and who care not what strife and wretchedness overtake those who come after them, in the very distribution of their property, provided they can keep it all to themselves, were it but for one day longer ! Isaac had hitherto trusted every thing to the wisdom and affection of his kind father, and to the care of an indulgent Providence, even so far as to the choice of his partner for life. But his father being now removed by death, and his own children growing up fast upon him, he is under the necessity of arising and exerting himself. For the bless ing of Providence is to be asked and ex pected, only when men are found in the way of their duty, and wisely employing lawful and appointed means of prospering. We accordingly find him, with the prudent sa gacity of a good husband, father, and master, directing the removal of his family from place to place, as occasion frequently required; forming alliances with his powerful neigh bours, for their mutual security ; and presid ing in the offices of religion, his favourite /employment. And though Providence has deprived him of the counsel and protection of an earthly parent, he finds, in his happy experience, that the man whom God con tinues to protect and bless, has lost nothing-. " Father and mother have forsaken him, but the Lord has graciously taken him up," " hedged him round/on every side," and put the fear and dread of him into all the neigh bouring nations, who,, though they envied, durst not hurt him. *Gon. xxv. 6. The distresses which embittered the re mainder of Isaac's life, were chiefly internal and domestic ; and, alas ! had their source in his own infirmity, namely, a fond partiality in favour of his elder son ; tlie mischief of which was increased and kept alive, by a partiality, equally decided, which Rebekah had conceived in favour of Jacob. "Isaac loved Esau because he did eat of his venison ; but Rebekah loved Jacob."* Most of the evils of a man's lot may be easily traced up to some weakness in which he has indulged himself, some error into which he has fallen, some opportunity he has let slip, or some crime which he has committed. Of all the infirmities to which our nature is subject none is more common, none is more unrea sonable, unwise, and unjust, none more easily guarded against, none more fetal in its conse quences to ourselves and others, than that of making a difference between one child and another. It destroys the favourite, and dis courages those who are postponed and slight ed ; it sows the seeds of jealousy and malice, which frequently produce strife, and end in violence and blood. It sets the father against the mother, and the mother agairist the fa ther ; the sister against the brother, and the brother against the sister. It disturbed the repose of Isaac's family, and had well nigh brought down Jacob's hoary head with sor row to the grave. Parents ought to examine, and to watch over themselves carefully on this head. If they are unable to suppress the feeling, the expression of it, at least, is in their power ; and policy, if not justice, demands of them an equitable distribution of their affection, their countenance, and their goods. For, if there be a folly which, more certainly than another, punishes itself, it is this ill-judged and wicked distinction between equals. One is ashamed to think of the reason which is assigned for Isaac's preference of his elder to his younger son, " Isaac loved Esau because he did eat of his venison." The original language expresses it still more forcibly, " because his venison was in his mouth." By what grovelling and unworthy motives are . wise and good men often actuated ! And what a mortifying view of human nature is it, to see the laws of prudence, and justice, and piety, vilely controlled and counteracted by the lowest and grossest of our appetites ! It was not long before the effect of parental partialities appeared. A competition for precedency, and the rights of primogeniture, engaged the attention of the two brothers, and whetted their spirits against each other, from their earliest years. The pretensions of each were supported respectively by the parents according to favour, to the disregard of every maxim of good sense, and of the destination and direction of the Divine Providence. — * Gen. xxv. 28. LECT. XXI.] HISTORY OF ISAAC. 89 Who it was that prevailed rn this conten tion, and by what means, will be seen in the While the family of tlie patriarch was thus torn with internal dissension, Providence was pleased to visit him with a grievous ex ternal calamity. " There was a famine in the land, besides the first famine that was in the days of Abraham." * This, for a while, represses animosity. Distress, common to all, teaches them to love one another ; and, instead of a struggle for precedency, the weightier concern, "Where shall we find bread ?" now occupies their thoughts. This dispensation was probably intended as a re proof and correction to all parties. The parents were admonished ofthe folly of aid ing and increasing the unavoidable ills of life, by wilfully sowing discord among bre thren. Esau, ready again. to perish with want is stung with remorse to think, that in one hasty impatient moment of hunger, he had sold, for the transient gratification of a low appetite, what no penitence could undo, no money repurchase. And Jacob, feeling himself the cravings of hunger, was chas tised for taking an unkind advantage of his brother's necessity ; and, ready in his turn to perish, might be constrained to adopt the words of starving Esau, " behold, I am at the point to die, and what profit shall this birth right do to me."t For, although God serves himself of the weaknesses and vices of men, he approves them not, nor will suffer them to pass unpunished. Isaac, warned of God, removes not into Egypt the land which had afforded his father shelter and subsistence in a similar storm, * and which has often proved an asylum to the church ; but retires to Gerar, one of the ci ties of Palestine, situated between Kadesh and Shur.f Abimelech was the prince who at that time reigned over the Philistines. The same person, according to Josephus, with whom Abraham had formed a con nexion so friendly, 5 and with whom, for that reason, Heaven now directed Isaac to sojourn, till the famine should be relieved. This con jecture of the Jewish historian, though not insupportable, from a physical impediment seems highly improbable ; if we consider that seventy-five years have elapsed since Abra ham resided at Gerar : and history furnishes few, if any examples, of reigns of so long continuance. It is more probable that Abime lech was then the general appellative name of the princes of that part of Palestine, as Pharaoh was that of the kings of Egypt. When we behold the patriarchs thus remov ing from place to place, a feeble, unwarlike, encumbered band, through nations fierce, en vious, and violent, their safety is to be ac counted for only from the restraining power *Gen. xxvi. 1. J Gen. xx. 1. M tGen. xxv. 32. §Gen. xx. H, IS. of God over the hearts of men. The dread ful judgment of Sodom, where Lot dwelt ; the blindness which punished the attempt to violate his guests, and the more tremendous destruction which avenged just heaven of their ungodly deeds, might operate power fully, so far as these events were known and their memory was preserved, to overawe the neighbouring nations, and to procure for Lot's family and kindred, the attention and respect which fear, if not love, inspires. And, as a proof of his supremacy, that God, " in whose hand the heart of the king is, and who can turn it which way soever he will," has frequently constrained the enemies of his church and people to be their friends and protectors. This repeated visitation of Canaan by fa mine, was a repeated trial of the patriarch's faith. The promise of a land, so frequently unable to sustain its inhabitants, could have little value in the eye of a worldly mind. But feith in God discerns the principal worth and importance of temporal blessings, in their being connected with, and representing spi ritual objects ; and examines events, not by their agreement with preconceived opinions, and extravagant expectations, but by their moral effects and consequences. A region uniformly and unfailingly plenteous, might betray its possessor into the belief that its fertility flowed solely from natural causes, and God might be forgotten and neglected. A year of scarcity is calculated to teach mall his dependence, and to force him to implore " the blessing which maketh rich, and causeth the earth to yield its increase." While he sojourned among the Philistines, Isaac falls into the same infirmity which dis honoured his father in Egypt. Misled, by suspicion unworthy of an honest man, and fear unworthy of the friend of God, he violates sacred truth, and sins against his own con science: for when interrogated concerning Rebekah, " he said, She is my sister : for he feared to say, She is my wife, lest, said he, the men of this place should kill me for Re bekah : because she was fair to look upon."* The criminality of this mistrust is greatly aggravated by the clearness and fulness of the heavenly vision, whereby he had been admonished to bend his course to the court of Abimelech. " And the Lord appeared unto him and said, Go not down into Egypt. Dwell in the land which I shall tell thee of. Sojourn in this land, and I will be with thee, and will bless thee : for unto thee, and unto thy seed, I will give all these countries, and I will per form the oath which I sware unto Abraham. thy father. And I wUl make thy seed to multiply as the stars ofneaven, and will give unto thy seed all these countries: and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed. Because that Abraham obeyed my * Gen. xxvi. 7. 90 HISTORY OF ISAAC. {lect. xxi. voice, and kept my charge, my command ments, my statutes, and my laws."* Slight temptations frequently prevail, after trials more formidable have been successfully re sisted and overcome. The wise, therefore, will reckon no danger small, no foe con temptible, no condition perfectly secure. The faithful will learn to speak truth, to do good, to trust in the Lord, and fear nothing. Virtue is not hereditary in families, it de scends but in rarer instances; whereas frail ty, alas ! descends from every father to every son. Virtue is the water in the particular J)ool ,' vice the torrent in the river, which sweeps every thing before it. The modera tion, honour, and good sense of Abimelech, are the severest imaginable reproof of the disingenuoushess of the prophetf and hap pily prevented the mischief, which Isaac, seeking by improper means to shun, had well high occasioned. Under the protection and friendship of this prince, he has now obtained a settlement in the land ; and by the blessing of Heaven upon his honest industry, he prospers and in creases in the midst of difficulties. " Isaac sowed in the land, and received in the same year an hundred fold : and the Lord blessed him. And the man waxed great, and went forward, and grew, until he became very great For he had possession of flocks, and possession of herds, and great store of ser vants."! But we are by no means to imagine, that worldly success is ever proportioned to promising means and favourable opportuni ties. " The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." Some men's sails seem to gather every breath of the wind: they get forward in spite of every obstacle. Others feel the tempest continu ally blowing in their faces. All things are against them, and though they set out with the fairest, most flattering prospects, unac countably thwarted and disappointed, they " wax poor, and fall into decay." Let not prosperity, then, be deemed an infallible proof of wisdom, or worth, or of divine favour. Neither let want of success be always de rived from folly, or vice, or the curse of Hea ven ; for in this mixed, imperfect, probation ary state, " time and chance happen to all men," neither can a man tell " what is good for him all the days ofhis vain life, which he spendeth as a shadow." Every temporal advantage has a corres ponding infelicity. Isaac grew rich and great, but " the Philistines envied him." And, " who can stand before envy ?" That dark, malig nant passion, prompted his surly, jealous foes to cut off one source of his wealth, " for all the wells which his father's servants haddig- fed in the days of Abraham his fether, the hilistines had stopped them, and filled them with earth."$ This was, in effect, to destroy * Gen, xxvi. 2— 5. fllu9— 11. J It. 12— 14. § lb. 15. the flocks and the herds. For without water, "the cattle upon a thousand hills" are a poor, perishmg commodity. Envy considers that as gained to itself which is lost to an other : and not only delights in destruction, from which it hopes to draw advantage, but enjoys the mischief which it works merely for mischief's sake. Envy will even submit to hurt itself a little, to have the malicious satisfaction of hurting another much. Abi melech himself, more liberal-minded than meaner men, grows at length weary of his guest, feels hurt at his growing prosperity, envies his greatness, and dismisses him with cold civility. "And Abimelech said unto Isaac, Go from us : for thou art much mightier than we."* Grandeur admits not of friend ship ; and friendship disdains to dwell with profligacy. Of all the men in a nation, the king is most certainly excluded from this blessing ; and surely, his lot contains nothing to be once compared with it, or which can supply its want Isaac prudently gives way. He with draws the hated object from before the eyes of envy, and leaving the city, pitches his tent in the valley of Gerar. Apprehending, he had a hereditary right to the wells of water which were his father's, and which the Philistines had maliciously obstructed, he digs again for them in the valley. And from respect to the memory of Abraham, as well as to keep alive the remembrance of the gracious interpositions of the Divine Providence in his behalf, he revives the an cient names by which the wells were dis tinguished. Particularly the name Beer sheba, or, the well of the oath, is preserved, the memorial of the covenant ratified up wards of seventy years before, between the king of the Philistines and Abraham ; and which was known by that name for many ages afterwards, as one of the extreme boun daries of the holy land. But the unrelenting jealousy of the Philistines pursues him from the city into the field. No sooner has he by industry procured for his family that import ant necessary of life, water, than the herd- men of Gerar, endeavoured by violence to possess themselves of it. Isaac, fond of peace, chooses rather to recede from his just right than to support it by force ; and still retires, seeking relief in patience and indus try. He finds himself still pursued by the pride and selfishness of his neighbours; but at length conquers by yielding. A victory the most certain, the most honourable, and the most satisfactory. And the tranquillity and ease of Rehoboth,^ amply compensate the troubles and vexation of Esek\ and Sit- nah.§ Finally, to prevent as far as in him lay, every ground of quarrel, he fixes his residence at a still greater distance from Abimelech. " He went up from thence to * Gen. xxvi. 16. t Room. J Contention. § Hatred. LECT. XXI.] HISTORY OF ISAAC. 91 Beer-sheba ;" where feeling himself at home, after so many removals, he at once pitches his tent for repose, and builds an altar for religion; and the hatred and violence of man is lost and forgotten in communion with God. The expression, " he called upon the name ofthe Lord," seems to import, that when his altar was built, it was consecrated to the service of God, with certain extraordinary solemnities; such as sacrifice, and public thanksgiving, at which the whole family as sisted, and in which the holy man himself, the priest as well as the prince ofhis family, joyfully presided. His piety was speedily acknowledged and crowned with the appro bation and smiles of his Heavenly Father. For, "the Lord appeared unto him the same night, and said, I am the God of Abra ham thy father, fear not, for I am with thee, and will bless thee, and will multiply thy seed, for my servant Abraham's sake."* His meek and placid deportment together with his increasing power and wealth, and the favour of Heaven so unequivocally declared, have rendered the patriarch so dignified and respectable in the eyes of the world, that the prince, who from an unworthy motive had been induced to treat him with unkind- ness, and to dismiss him from his capital, now feels himself impelled to court his friendship, and to secure it by a solemn com pact. Abimelech considers it as no diminu tion of his dignity, to leave home, attended with the most honourable of his council, and the supreme in command over his armies, in order to visit the shepherd in his tent. The expostulation! of Isaac is simple and natural, and his conduct}; exhibits a mind free from gall, free from resentment. The reply of Abimelech discloses the true motive of this visit. And we are not surprised to find, that fear has at least as large a share in it as love.' The worst of men find it to be their interest to live on good terms with the wise and pious: and good men cleave to each other from af fection. The covenant being amicably renewed, and the oath of God interposed, and, " an oath for confirmation is an end of all strife," the king of Gerar and his retinue return in peace, and leave Isaac to the retirement which he loved, and to that intercourse with Heaven, which he prized infinitely above the friend ship of earthly potentates. And now, a de lightful calm of eighteen years ensued, of which no traces remain to inform or instruct men, but which from the well known cha racter of this patriarch, we may well suppose were spent in such a manner, as to be had in everlasting remembrance before God. At this period, hte domestic tranquillity was again cruelly disturbed, and, by his favourite * Gen. xxvi. 24. t Gen. xxvi. 30. t Gen. xxvi. 27. j Gen. xxvi. 28, 29. son ; who, in the fortieth year ofhis own life, that is, the hundreth of his father's, intro duced two idolatrous wives at once, into the holy family. This was two great evils, in one. It was being unequally yoked with in fidelity; and carrying on a practice which has ever been and ever will be fatal to do mestic peace. The daughter of a Hittite would naturally be disposed to interrupt the religious harmony which prevailed in Isaac's habitation, and two wives at once would, as certainly, be disposed to annoy each other, and to embroil the whole family in their quarrels. Isaac was well acquainted with the solicitude of his pious father on his own account, in the important article, marriage ; and was conscious of a similar anxiety res pecting the settlement of his sons. We may easily conceive, then, how he felt at this ac cumulated irregularity and imprudence of Esau. He was wounded there, where as a man, a father, and a servant of the true God, he was most vulnerable. To be neglected, unacknowledged in a matter of the highest moment to his comfort, by that son whom he had cherished with the fondest affection, and on whom he. rested his fondest hopes ; how mortifying to a father ! But besides the holy descent was in danger of being marred by an impure heathenish mixture ; and the minds of his grandchildren likely to be per verted from the knowledge and worship of the God of their fathers. Such is the un gracious return which parents often meet with, for all that profusion of tenderness and affection which they lavish upon their off spring; such their reward, for all their wearisome days, and sleepless nights. The ingrates dispose of their affections, their per sons, their prospects, their all, in a hagty fit of passion ; as if the father who brought them up with so much toil and trouble, as if the mother who bore them had no concern in the matter. The ungrateful, disorderly conduct of their elder son, and no wonder, was "a grief of mind to Isaac and to Reh^kahu" Whether it was from the vexation occa* sioned by this event, from disease, from acci dent, or some natural weakness in the organs of sight, we are not informed, but we find Isaac, in the one hundred and thirty-fifth year of his life, — in a state of total blindness ; and he was probably visited with the loss pf that precious sense at a much, earlier period. But forty-five years, at least, of his earthly pilgrimage were passed in this dark and comfortless state, All men wish to live to old age ; but when they have attained their wish, they are apt to repine at the infirmi ties and the discomforts which are necessar rily incident to it They would be old ; but they would not be blind, and palsied, and feeble. They would be old ; but they would not be ne.glected, wearied of, and forsaken. They wpuld be old ; but they would not he 92 HISTORY OF ISAAC. [lect. xxn. practised upon and deceived. But, old age certainly brings on all these, and many more inconveniences; and vain it is to dream of the benefit, without the care. We read but of one, that is Moses himself, whose " eye at the age of one hundred and twenty, was not dim, nor his natural force abated." This dark period of Isaac's life, containing many interesting and instructive particulars, will furnish matter for a separate discourse. In reviewing the past, we are under the ne cessity of again admonishing parents on that momentous article. — Impartiality m the dis tribution of their attention, their tenderness, and their property, among their children. — The trifling circumstances of name, of per sonal likeness, of beauty and deformity, and the like, over which parents had little power, and the children none at all ; and which in themselves have neither merit nor demerit, and are the objects of neither just praise nor blame, have been known to establish distinc tions in families, which destroyed their peace and accelerated their ruin. Children unborn have often felt the dire effects of a silly nick name, imposed on a progenitor whom they knew not, and whose relation to them was thereby rendered a curse. Men are often deemed unfortunate, both by themselves and others, where they deserve to be reckoned unwise. They themselves do the mischief; and then wonder how it came about They spoil their children, and then complain that they are so perverse. I know how difficult it is to bring up youth; how difficult to bear an even hand between child and child, to coun teract the bias of favour and affection, to con ceal and disguise the strong emotions of the heart. But it is only the more neces sary to be prudent, to be vigilant, " to walk circumspectly," and, to ask " wisdom of God." HISTORY OF ISAAC. LECTURE XXII. And it came to pass, that when Isaac was old, and his eyes were dim, so that he could not see, he called Esau his eldest son, and said unto him, My son. And he said unto him, Behold, here am I. And he said, Behold, now I am old, I know not the day of my death. Now, therefore, take, I pray thee, thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and go out to the field, and take me some venison ; ana make me savoury meat, such as I love, and bring it to me, that I may eat; that my soul may bless thee before I die. And Rebekah heard when Tsaac spake to Esau his son : and Esau went to the field to hunt for venison, and to bring it. — Genesis xxvii. 1 — 5. There is a generous principle in human nature, which commonly disposes us to take part with the weakest. We feel an honest indignation at seeing weakness oppressed by might, honesty over-reached by cunning, and unsuspecting goodness played upon by self ishness and knavery. God himself feels the insults offered to the destitute and the help less; declares himself "the judge ofthe wi dow, the protector of the fatherless, the shield ofthe stranger." He aims his thunder at the head of him who putteth a " stumbling-block in the way ofthe blind, and planteth a snare for the innocent." And though, in the sove reignty of his power, and the depths of his wisdom, he is sometimes pleased to employ the vices of men to execute his purposes of goodness and mercy, he loves and approves only " whatsoever things are true, whatso ever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report,"* and the persons who love and practise them. It is not the least profitable part of the stu dy of both providence and scripture, to trace the conduct of a righteous God in punishing the offender, though he has subdued the of fence into a servant of his own will ; chasten ing his children by a rod of their own pre paring; tumbling the wicked into the pit which themselves have digged, and bringing backsliders again to himself, by making them to eat the bitter fruit of their own doings. — Happy it is for the children of men, if their deviations from the path of rectitude meet their correction in a temporal punishment. But wo to that man, whom justice permits to thrive in his iniquity, and to grow harden ed through impunity; whose retribution is deferred, till repentance can produce no change. Chastise me, O Father, as severely as thou wilt. Let 'me not fall asleep under * Phil. iv. 8. LECT. XXII.] HISTORY OF ISAAC. my transgression, and thy hot displeasure. — Dispose as thou wilt of my body, my estate, my worldly comfort; but let my soul live be fore thee. Let me see my sin, and purge me thoroughly from it We are now to attempt the illustration of these reflections, from history. The life of Isaac may be divided into three periods. The first, containing seventy-five years, from his birth to the death of Abra ham; during which, being under parental government, and of a meek, unaspiring dis position, his history is blended" with, and in cluded in that of his fether. The second, commencing at his father's death, and end ing in his one hundred and thirty-seventh year: when it pleased God to visit him with extreme weakness, or total loss of eye-sight This contains the space of sixty-two years, which may be termed his active period. To it succeeds a heavy period of forty-three years, up to the day of his death. During which we see a poor, dark old man, at the disposal of others, moving in a narrow sphere ; " knowledge" and comfort " at one entrance, quite shut out." We behold a man, who, when " he was young, girded himself, and walked whither he would ; but now become old, stretching forth his hands, and another girding him, and carrying him whither he would not." This portion of his history, ac cordingly, is blended with, and swallowed up in that of his two sons. At the beginning of this period, we find Isaac sensible ofhis growing infirmities, feel ing the approach of death, though ignorant of the day of it and anxious to convey the double portion, the patriarchal benediction and the covenant promise, according to the bent ofhis natural affection, to his elder and more beloved son. He calls him with accents of paternal tenderness, and proposes to him the mingled gratification of pursuing his own favourite amusement, of ministering to his fond father's pleasure, and of securing to himself the great object of his ambition and desire, the blessing, with all its valuable ef fects. Behold of what importance it is, that our propensities be originally good, seeing indul gence and habit interweave them with our very constitution, till they become a second nature, and age confirms, instead of eradi cating them. We find the two great infirmi ties of Isaac's character predominant to the last, a disposition to gratify his palate with a particular kind of food,- and partiality to his son Esau. Time has not yet blunted the edge of appetite; and the eye of the mind, dim as the bodily organ, overlooks the undutifulness which had pierced a father's heart, by unhal lowed, inauspicious marriages with the Hit- tite ; and Isaac discerns in his darling, those qualities only in which misguided affection had dressed him out. Thus a strong and live ly principle of grace may consist with much natural weakness. Rebekah, equally attentive to the interest of her younger son, happened to overhear the charge which Isaac gave to Esau, and imme diately, with the quickness of a female, de termined, at all hazards, to carry a favourite point, she builds upon it a project of obtain ing, hy management and address, what she despaired of bringing about by the direct road of entreaty or persuasion. Unhappy it is for that family, the heads of which entertain op posite views, and pursue separate interests. One tent could not long contain two rival brothers, whose animosity was kept alive and encouraged by those whose wisdom and au thority should have interposed to suppress it. It is affecting to think how little scrupulous even good people are, about the means of accomplishing what their hearts are set upon ; how easily the understanding and the con science become the dupe of the affections. — The apologists of Rebekah charitably ascribe her conduct on this occasion to motives of religion. She is supposed to be actuated throughout by zeal for supporting the desti nation of Heaven, " The elder shall serve the younger;" a destination which she observed her husband was eager to subvert. I am not disposed to refuse her, to a certain degree, the credit of so worthy a principle ; for the piety of her spirit, on other occasions, is un questionable. But I see too much ofthe wo man, of the mother, of the spirit of this world, in her behaviour, to believe that her motives were wholly pure and spiritual. Religion, true religion, never does evil that good may come. Admitting that Isaac was to blame, for mis understanding, forgetting or endeavouring to contradict the oracle which gave the prefer ence to Jacob ; surely, surely, it belonged te the wife ofhis youth to have employed other means to undeceive and admonish him. Was the deception which she practised upon his helplessness and infirmity, the proof she ex hibited of the love, honour, and obedience which she owed her lord 1 Was it consistent with genuine piety, to take the work of God out ofhis hands 1 As if the wisdom of Jehovah needed the aid of human craft and invention. And, could a mother, not only herself deviate into the crooked paths of dissimulation and falsehood, and become a pattern of deceit, but wickedly attempt to decoy, persuade, constrain her own son, to violate sacred truth 1 "It is not, and it cannot come to good?" Having planned her scheme, and over- persuaded Jacob to assist in the execution of it Rebekah loses not a moment ; and Isaac's favourite dish is ready to be served up, long before the uncertainty of hunting, and the dexterity of Esau could have procured it. Jacob, arrayed in, goodly raiment ofhis elder 04 HISTORY OF ISAAC. [lect. xxh. brother, disguised to the sense of feeling, as much as art could disguise him, and furnished with the savoury meat which his father loved, advances with trembling, doubtful steps to his apartment. In the conversation that en sued, which is most to be wondered at — the honest, unsuspecting simplicity of the father ; or the shameless, undaunted effrontery of the son t But in thinking of the one, our won der is mingled with respect and esteem ; the other excites resentment and abhorrence. It shows the danger of getting into a wrong train. One fraud must be followed up with another ; one injury must support and justify another; and simple falsehood, by an easy progress, rises up to perjury. Who is not shocked, to hear the son of Isaac interposing the great and dreadful name ofthe " LORD God of his father," not to confirm the truth, but to countenance and bear out a wilful and deliberate lie 1 What earthly good is worth purchasing at such a price ? Surely his tongue faltered when it pronounced those solemn, those awful words. The good old man's suspicions were evi dently alarmed, either by the tone of Jacob's voice, or by the hesitating manner in which he spoke. And, apprehending he had an in fallible method of detection, if a fallacy there were, he appeals from the testimony ofhis ears, to his feeling. But behold, craft is too deep for honesty. Rebekah and her son have not contrived their plot so ill, as to fail at this stage of the business ; and Isaac is too good himself to imagine that others could be so wicked. He suffers himself, therefore, to be at length persuaded; and, refreshed with meat and drink, pronounces the blessing which he had promised. Had he not been blinded, when he saw, with ill- judged favour to Esau, and seduced by the flavour of his venison, he had not been ex posed to this imposition, in his helpless state. Could Jacob have trusted in God, and waited to be conducted of Providence, he had ar rived at his end no less certainly, and with much less dishonour. But "God is true, though every man be found a liar." It is worthy of observation, that though Isaac, by the spirit of prophesy which was in him, foresaw and foretold the future for tunes of his family ; though he could clearly discern objects at the remotest distance, his natural discernment was so small, and even his prophetic knowledge so partial, that he could not distinguish the one branch of his family from the other ; and, impelled by a will more powerful than his own, he involun tarily bestowed dominion and precedency where he least intended it " For the pro phesy came not in old time by the will of man.: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."* Thus, Balaam afterwards prophesied, not what he * 2 Peter i. 21. would, but as the Spirit of God constrained him ; and thus, Caiaphas predicted the death of Christ for the sins of the people ; but " this spake he not of himself; but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Je sus should die for that nation."* Thus was Isaac deceived, in having Jacob imposed upon him for Esau. Nor was Re bekah less disappointed. For the blessing which she had surreptitiously obtained for her favourite, instead of producing the im mediate benefits expected from it plunged him into an ocean of distress, exiled him from his country and his father's house, ex- posed him, in his turn, to imposition and in sult ; and, but for the care of a superintend ing Providence, the success which he had earned by the sacrifice of a good conscience, must have defeated and destroyed itself. But " the counsel of the Lord standeth forever, the thoughts of his heart to all generations."! " His decree may no man reverse." " The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness ¦'• of God ;" but the wisdom and righteousness of God, can easily bend the wrath of man to their purpose. Jadob has hardly departed with his ill-got ten benediction, when Esau arrives in the triumph of success and hope ; his heart over flowing with filial tenderness, and panting for the promised reward of his labours. The feelings of both the father and son, when the cheat was discovered, are more easily con ceived than described : the shame of being over-reached, resentment against the impos tor, the chagrin of disappointed hope, of dis appointed ambition ; bitter reflection on the folly and danger of resisting the high will of Heaven, and on the hard necessity of sub mitting to the irreversible decree. Nothing can exceed the tenderness of Esau's expos tulation, when he found the blessing was ir recoverably gone from him. The name of his brother ; the occasion of its being given him ; his conduct since he grew up ; the re peated advantage he had taken, of his neces sity at one time, of his absence at another, all rush upon his mind at once, and excite a tempest of passion which he is unable to go vern. " And Esau said unto his father, Hast thou but one blessing, my father? Bless me, even me also, O my fether ; and Esau lift up his voice and wept."| The ability and the good will of an earthly parent have their li mits. He has but one, or at most a second blessing to bestow. What he gives to this child is so much taken away from that other. But the liberality, and the power of our hea venly Father, are unbounded. "In our Fa ther's house there are many mansions." With him " there is bread enough and to spare." Isaac discovers at length, that he has been fighting against God ; and while he resents Jacob's subtilty, and the unkindness *Johnxi.5I. tPealmxxxiii.il. { Gen. xxvii. 38. LECT. XXII.] HISTORY OF ISAAC. 05 of Rebekah, he acknowledges and submits to the high will of Heaven. The blessing which he had pronounced unwittingly, and which he finds to be irrevocable, he now de liberately and cheerfully confirms. And now, behold the little spark of dis cord between the brethren blown up into a flame, which threatens destruction to the whole family. And, dreadful to think, Esau looks forward, with desire to the death ofhis old, kind father, that he might prosecute re venge against his brother unto blood. Hither to we have seen in Esau an object of com passion : we now view him with detestation ; and we find the righteous judgment of God prosecuting this murderous disposition in his posterity to their utter ruin. " For thy vio lence against thy brother Jacob, shame shall cover thee, and thou shalt be cut off for ever."* " As I live, saith the Lord God, I will prepare thee unto blood, and blood shall pursue thee : sith thou hast not hated blood, even blood shall pursue thee. Thus I will make Mount Seir most desolate, and cut off from it him that passeth out and him that returneth."f "Thus saith the Lord, For three transgressions of Edom, and for four, I will not turn away the punishment thereof; because he did pursue his brother with the sword, and did cast off all pity, and his an ger did tear perpetually, and kept his wrath for ever. But I will send a fire upon Te man, which shall devour the palaces of Boz- rah."t. Rebekah too, now that " a sword pierces through her own soul," ready "to lose both her children in one day," too late discerns how imprudently she has acted, and is glad to purchase the safety of her fa vourite at the price of his banishment So uneasily do those possessions sit upon us which we have acquired by improper means. The threatening words of his elder son, must have speedily reached the ears of the aged patriarch also. And he has the inex pressible mortification of learning that the ungrateful wretch whom he had cherished in his bosom, and to whom his fondness would have given every thing, was enjoying the prospect of his approaching death, be cause it would afford a safer opportunity of practising his meditated revenge. This in deed was the bitterness of death, to " feel how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child. And, thus severely the unwise attachment of both the parents punished itself, by the effect which it pro duced. To prevent the dreadful mischief which hung over his hoary head, all his prospects concerning Esau, being now blighted by the heathenish alliances which he had formed, by his diabolical character, and by the re jection of Heaven, he gladly consents to the dismission of Jacob: and all his hopes, at ?Obad. verse 10. t Ezek. xxxv. 6, T. t Amos i. Il, 13. length, settle on him whom he loved less. But, to part with the heir of Hie promise, at the age of one hundred and forty years, to send him away into a far country — was it not to part with him for ever? The fervour of his farewell benediction, pathetically ex presses his despair of meeting him again, " God Almighty bless thee, and make thee fruitful, and multiply thee, that thou mayest be a multitude of people: and give thee the blessing of Abraham, to thee and to thy seed with thee; that thou mayest inherit the land wherein thou art a stranger, which God gave to Abraham."* These are the last words, this the last action of Isaac's life, upon record. But his latter end was at a greater distance than he or than Esau ap prehended. He survived this event forty years. He lived to lose in communion with Gpd, the disorder and dispersion of his family. He lived to shelter and to bless by his prayers, him whom the paternal roof could shelter and protect no longer. He lived to be refreshed with the good tidings ofthe success ofthe blessing, and the happy increase of Jacob's family. He lived to " see him" again " in his touch," and to em brace his grandchildren. This period ofhis life is a mere blank to posterity. But if we are ever admitted to read in " the book of God's remembrance," O how will these forty years of silence and oblivion arise and shine t At last, old and full of days, Isaac drops into the grave.. " The days of Isaac were an hundred and fourscore years, and Isaac gave up the ghost and died, and was ga thered unto his people."! " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his !" Time, and a better spirit and the death of a father, have happily extin guished, resentment between the brothers. Esau thinks no more of slaying Jacob. They mingle tears, as did Isaac and Ishmael, over their parent's tomb, and their angry passions* sleep in the dust with him. Thus lived and died Isaac, the son of Abra ham, a man of contemplation, piety, and peace. A man of few and slight infirmities ; of many and eminent virtues. A man, whom Providence tried with multiplied and severe afflictions ; and whom faith strength ened to bear them with patience and forti tude. His story comes home to the breast and bosom of every man. His excellencies are such as all may, by due cultivation, ac quire ; his virtue such as all may imitate. His faults are those, to which even good men are liable, and which they are the more con cerned to avoid, or to amend. To young men, we would hold him up as a pattern of filial tenderness and submission. Isaac possessed in an eminent degree, that most amiable quality of ingenuous youth, dutiful respect to the mother who bare him. * Gen. xxviii. 3, 4. t Gen. xxxv. S8, S$). HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxm. He cherished her with pious attention while she lived, and sincerely lamented her in death ; till duty called him to drop the grate ful and affectionate son, in the loving and faithful husband. So long as Abraham |jved, Isaac had no will but the will of his father. The master of a family may learn of him domestic piety and devotion, conjugal fide lity, prudent foresight perse vering industry. The selfish and contentious are reproved, by the example of his moderation, by his , patience under unkindness and injustice, by his meek surrender of an undoubted right, for the( sake of peace. Let the aged con sider him well, and imitate his sweetness of temper, his resignation under affliction, his gentle requital of deception and insult, his superiority to the world, his composure in the prospect of dissolution, and the faith which triumphed over death and the grave. Let the affluent and the prosperous learn of him, to adorn high rank and ample fortune, by hu mility and condescension ; and the wretched, to endure distress with fortitude and resig nation. Let his faults be forgotten, and his infirmities covered; or remembered only as a reproof and admonition to ourselves. And let us be followers together of him, and of all them who " through faith and patience inherit tlie promises." HISTORY OF JACOB. LECTURE XXIII. And the boys grew ; and Esau was a cunning hunter, a man of the field : and Jacob was a plain man.. dwelling in tents. And Isaac loved Esau, because he did eat ofhis venison ; but Rebekah loved Jacob. And 'Jacob sod pottage : and Esau came from the field and he was faint And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that same red pottage, for I am faint; therefore his name was called Edom. And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright And Esau said, Behold, I am at the point to die : and what profit shall this birthright do me ? And Jacob said, Swear to me this day : and he sware unto him : and tie sold his birthright unto Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles, and he did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way ; thus Esau despised hia birthright — Genesis xxv. 27 — 34. The importance of personages, to whose acquaintance we|ire introduced in the sacred pages, is to be estimated, not by circumstances which catch and engage the superficial and the vain, and which constitute what is called greatness among men. No ; " God hath chosen the weak things of the world, to confound the things which are mighty ; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which ate not, to bring to naught things that are." — When great men are to be sought for, the mind that is governed by worldly ideas, rushes straight to the palaces of kings, or enters into the cabinet where statesmen as semble, or attends the footsteps ofthe warrior over the ensanguined field. But reason and religion conduct us in far different paths, and present us with far different objects. They discover to us, many a time, true greatness under the obscure roof of a cottage, or the spreading branches of a great tree. They exhibit dignity and consequence, affixed, not to the royal sceptre, but to the shepherd's crook ; and feelingly teach us, that what is highly prized among men is of little estima tion in the sight of God. The person on whose history we are now entering is the third in order and succession ofthe illustrious three, who are distinguished in scripture as the covenant friends of God, and the ensamples of all them who in after ages should believe. "I am the God of Abra ham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob." Thus it is spoken ofthe men, whom the King of kings delighted to honour. And what is rank and title, among men, compared to this? Jacob was, by the ordinance of heaven, destined to pre-eminence and superiority be fore he was born. And he who could have raised him to the rights of primogeniture, in the ordinary course of nature, was pleased, such is divine sovereignty, to bestow this ad vantage upon him, by the concurrence of- various providential events. That men may adore, and submit to the God " who worketh all things according to the counsel of his own will." The struggle between the twin brothers began early, and lasted long. With more. than ordinary reasons for loving each other, the ill-judged partialities, of parental affec tion, and the lust of precedency and power, inflame them to uncommon rancour and ani mosity. The strife, which was at first acci dental, or instinctive, becomes at length wil ful and deliberate. And the name of Jacob imposed in the beginning, from the slight incident ofhis laying hold, with his hand, of his brother's heel, comes in process of time to be a mark of his character, and a record LECT. XXIII.] HISTORY of his conduct Events unimportant, inci dental, contingent in the eyes of men, are often matters of deep design, of mighty and lasting consequence with God. The natural disposition of the two brothers early disco vered itself. Esau betakes himself to the active and laborious sports of the field. — Jacob, formed for social and domestic life, abides at home in the tents, attending to fa mily affairs, cultivating filial affections, and living in the exercise of filial duties. The Chaldee Paraphrast gives a translation of the words of Moses, rendered in our version, " dwelling in tents," considerably different in sense, " He was a minister in the house of teaching," understanding by the word tents or tabernacles, the place appointed for diviue worship. The first action of Jacob's life, which we find recorded by the sacred historian, is by no means calculated to give us a favourable impression of his heart. The young men were now in their twenty-fifth year. The elder entirely devoted to his favourite pur suit: the younger, ever on the watch to ob tain that by art or industry which nature hod taken from him. It happened on a certain day, that Jacob had employed himself in pre paring a plain dish of pottage of lentiles, for his own entertainment And here, let not the fastidious critic, who measures every thing by modern manners and maxims, con sider this as an employment beneath the dig nity of Isaac's son. It is, in truth, one of a multitude of instances, of the beautiful sim plicity of ancient customs. The greatest heroes, and proudest princes, whom Homer has exhibited, are frequently found engaged in similar Occupations. Esau, returning from the field, and having been either unsuccess ful in hunting, or bemg top impatient to delay the gratification ofhis appetite till his venison was prepared, entreats his brother to give him a share of the provision which he had made for himself. Jacob, taking advantage ofhis hunger and eagerness, proposes, as an equivalent for his pottage, no less a price than the favourite object of all his ambition and -desire, the birthright. Unconscious or re gardless of its valfte, and in a haste to satisfy the cravings of the moment he inconsider ately parts with that which nature had given him in vain, and which a father's fondness strove to secure for him ; but which a con duct so " profane" and precipitate proved him altogether unworthy of possessing. But, was the conduct of Jacob pure and praise-worthy in this transaction ? It cannot be affirmed. Providence had indeed ordained him to the blessing which he so ardently coveted ; but Providence neither appoints nor approves of crooked and indirect paths to the ends which it has proposed. Weak and err ing men may perhaps not be displeased, to have part of their work taken off from their N OP JACOB. 97 * hands ; but if we presume to take the whole or any part- of the work of God upon our selves, it is both witli Gin and with danger. "His counsel indeed shall stand," but the offender shall pay the price of his rashness. It is a dreadful thing' to get into a oourse and habit of acting amiss. When once we have got a favourite object in view, how every thing is made to bend to it ! The birthright, the birthright was the darling object of Ja cob's fondest wishes ; and, as if the decree and the prediction of heaven had not been security sufficient for the attainment of it, he seeks to confirm ft to himself by a deed of sale with his , brother, and the interposition of a solemn oath ; and finally, is eager to have the bargain ratified by the solemn bene diction of his father's prophetic lips. " He that believeth shall not moke haste." But -alas ! I see in Jacob an earnestness to obtain his end, that borders on diffidence and sus picion; and indeed, whom or what can that man trust who has not confidence in his Maker? The vile scene of imposition and fraud practised upon his blind and aged pa rent, as forming an essential article of Jacob's history, rises ogam to view. I like his taking advantage of his father's blindness still less than his attempt to carry a favourite point by taking advantage ofhis brother's hunger and impetuosity. The latter was but the skill and address of an open adversary; the former was the cunning and deceit of a crafty and undutiful child. Observe how cautiously, and fearfully, and slowly, the footsteps ofthe deceitful must proceed. The moment that tlie conscience swerves from truth and recti tude, the man becomes jealous, and anxious, and timid. But integrity advances with firm ness and intrepidity. "And Jacob, said to Rebekah his mother, Behold, Esau my bro ther is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man. My father peradventure will feel me, and I shall seem to him as a deceiver, and I shall bring a curse upon me, and not a 'blessing."* But, what could make Rebekah and her favourite son so anxious to attain this superi ority ? What was there in the birthright, to make it thus fondly coveted, and 'unre mittingly pursued? The answer to these questions will at least plead some excuse for their zeal, if not wholly do away the guilt of their falsehood. First — The gift of pro phesy was known to reside in the patriarch Isaac ; and the parental benediction, in cer tain circumstances, was considered as hav ing the force of a prediction. ' Secondly — Preeminency and power over the rest of the family in patriarchal times, were affixed to priority of birth ; thus God speaks to Cain concerning Abel, "Unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him." Third ly—A double portion of the paternal inheri tance appertained to the first born. And * Gen. xaii. 11, 12. 9 HIST0R1 this perhaps explains the meaning of Elisha's request at the rapture of Elijah, " Let a double portion of thy spirit be upon me :" not as -if he meant to ask, or expect, twice so much as Elijah had, but the share of an elder brother. Fourthly— The honour of priesthood resided then and for many years after, in the first born, and was justly con sidered as the first of privileges. Finally— The promise of the Messiah, " the first born among many brethren," was entailed upon the eldest son : and this was justly under stood to confer a dignity and lustre infinite ly superior to all temporal blessings. The guilt of Esau consisted in undervaluing and despising an advantage so distinguished. — The offence of Jacob's fraud is greatly ex tenuated, if not wholly extinguished, in the nobility and worth of the prize for which he contended. Behold him, then, retiring from the presence of his deluded father, who had prescience sufficient to discern, at the dis tance of ages, the future fortunes of his fa mily, without sagacity capable of discerning the imposture, which was, at that very in stant, practising upon his credulity and wont of sight. Behold Jacob retired, in possession indeed of the blessing, but haunted with the terrors which eternally pursue the man, who is conscious to himself, that he has acted wrong. He has gained the birthright but he has lost a brother. He has by subtilty stolen away the prophetic benediction, but he has raised up against himself an implaca ble foe. The possession of nothing yields that satisfaction which we promised our selves in it beforehand; and conscience will not permit us to enjoy peaceably that which we have acquired unworthily. His father's blessing announced every kind and degree of prosperity, " the dew of heaven, the fat- ness of the earth, the servitude of nations and people, lordship' over his brethren." But he is instantly constrained to become an exile and a wanderer from his father's house. And when he himself comes to make the estimate of his own life, in the close of it — what is the amount? " Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been." His elder brother is declared his inferior, but he has by much the stronger arm of fhe two. And, while he is practising deceit upon his near est relations in Canaan, Providence is silent ly preparing the means of requiting him in Padan-aram, in the person of one already a near relation, and,, about to be much more closely allied to him, Laban the Syrian, a man much more cunning and selfish, and much less scrupulous than himself! As this is a character which the inspired painter has delineated with peculiar felicity and skill, it may now be necessary to look back for a few moments, and to observe the first open ing of Laban's spirit and temper, as they ap pear on the face ofthe sacred drama. OF JACOB. [lect. xxm. Abraham's servant being arrived in Meso potamia, in search of a wife for Isaac, his young master, 'providentially conducted, lights on Rebekah, the sister of this Laban, by the well of water. Having briefly un folded his commission, and made her a pre sent suitable to his master's rank and af fluence, she runs home to acquaint her re lations of the adventure. Laban, instantly attracted by the sight of the gold, and by the account he had heard, of the state in which Abraham's servant travelled, very prudently concludes, that such a connexion might be improved to very great advantage. Hence that profusion of civility and kindness to an entire stranger, " Come in, thou blessed of the Lord, wherefore standest thou without 1 For I have prepared the house, and room for the camels."* Did we not afterwards dis cover him to be grovelling, greedy, and mercenary, this might have passed for the language of kindness and hospitality. But, when the whole is taken in connexion, we see a man from first to last invariably attach ed to his own interest, employing his very daughters as mere instruments of commerce, and prizing nothing, but in proportion as it ministered to his own advantage. Of all the passions of our nature, there is none so steady, uniform, and consistent as this is. Avarice never tires by exercise, never loses sight of its object : it gathers strength by gratification, grows vigorous by old age, and inflames the heart, when the vital fluid can hardly force a passage through it. What a feast for such a spirit, the con cluding scene ofthe marriage treaty for Re bekah ! " The servant brought forth jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment, and gave them to Rebekah : he gave also to her brother and to her mother precious things."f Such Was the man, with whom Jacob was now destined to spenda very con siderable part of his life ; and whose treat ment of him, in the eyes of the severest judge, may pass as a sufficient punishment for the little fallacies which he had practised in his father's house. Behold then, in the covenant head and re presentative of the holy family, " a Syrian ready to perish," leaving the paternal roof without an attendant, without a guide, with out a companion; more forlorn than his grandfather Abraham himself. For the bit terness of his exile was alleviated by the company and conversation of his beloved Sarah; whereas, the affliction of Jacob's banishment was grievously increased, by the consciousness that he had brought it up on himself; and from the bitter necessity of enduring its wearisome days and nights by himself alone. What could have supported a man in such circumstances ? A man, who was attached to domestic life ; a plain man, * Gen. xxiv. 3L t Gen. xxiv. 53. LECT. XXIII.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 99 "abiding in tents;" a man who had fondly flattered himself with the hope of power and tranquillity ; who had dreamed of superiority over his brother, but had not attained unto it? lean think of but one thing, that could have rendered his lot supportable, as it then stood. Jacob, after all, was a good man. — His conduct was not indeed pure and per fect, but his heart was right witli God. He had once and again been mistaken in the means which he had employed, but he had all along aimed at the noblest and most im portant end : and, from the chagrin and dis appointment which ever attended tlie plans of his own devising, he had always a sure and a satisfying refuge, in the wisdom and mercy of God. In truth, he had not attain ed the knowledge of true practical, vital re ligion, in the house of even his father Isaac, in Lahai-roi : but he learns it in silence and in solitude, in the plains of Luz. It is a good thing for a young man to feel his own weight, " to bear the yoke in his youth." At ease, and in a multitude, we forget God — in retire ment and danger, we learn and feel our de pendence, and call to remembrance a long- forgotten God. This is also a proper stage for resting on our way. We cannot lead our traveller from home, till we have found for him a place where to lodge. We cannot bear to see him from under the protection of the pa rental wing, till we are secure that he has got another protector and friend, that " friend who sticketh closer than a brother." Conformity to the plan we have proposed, and regard to the analogy of scripture, would now lead us to exhibit the patriarch Jacob, as a type ofthe Messiah, to whom patriarchs and "prophets all give witness," and who was specially prefigured by the son of Isaac. But, his story is not yet sufficiently ad vanced, to afford a foundation broad and solid enough to support a comparison, such as a more extended view of the subject will fur nish, and such as might more rationally con duce to the ends of edification. We deem it of more importance, at this period, to sub mit to your consideration a few general ob servations, respecting typical representation, and the proper use to be made of it. First ; In order to constitute a proper type, it is by no means necessary, that the person who answers this important purpose should possess perfect moral qualities. Were this requisite, who ever was worthy to represent the Son of God, the holy Jesus, " who did no sin, neither was guile found in his lips?" But as "the law maketh men high priests which have infirmity," though the law gives no countenance to error or infirmity; so Providence, " at sundry times and in divers manners," raised up men to prefigure to their contemporaries an immaculate Saviour, who were themselves "compassed with in firmity, of like passions with others," and whose faults are but the more conspicuous, from the honourable station, and employment to which they were called. It will follow, ' Secondly ; That the comparison is not to be stated and pursued through eivery particu- . lar incident of tlie life, and every feature of the personal character of the person who is tlie type. Men of very different characters, and in very different situations, typified the Saviour of the world. To suppose every article of their history, condition, and cha racter to be typical and prophetic, would therefore, in many instances, involve absurd ity and contradiction. Samson, David, and many others who might be mentioned, were eminent types of Christ ; but then, the re semblance holds only in certain 'great lead ing circumstances : the miraculous concep tion, for example, the Nazaritic sanctity, the invincible strength, the solitary, victorious achievements, the triumphant death of the former : the divine appointment and eleva tion, the royal dignity, the providential suc cess of the latter, the subduing all the church's enemies ; these and, the like, are the typical circumstances. But to pursue the resemblance throughout, to make every action of Samson's or of David's life typical of something correspondent in the Messiah, would lead far beyond absurdity ; it would issue in impiety and blasphemy. Thirdly; Scripture by direct application, or by fair, unrestrained analogy, ought there fore to lead, to regulate, and to correct all our inquiries of this sort. We shall else be in danger of rearing a baseless, flimsy struc ture in the clouds, which can afford neither shelter nor rest When pleasant amusement alone is the object, invention and fancy may be allowed their full exertion. But when we aim at religious instruction, we must be contented to take the Spirit of God for our guide. And here too, men ought to be jealous and watchful over their own spirits ; lest, in endeavouring to establish a favourite system, and to justify or support precon ceived opinions, they give to their own wild imaginations the solidity and weight of divine truth, and, departing from the simplicity of the gospel, presume to stamp the poor trash of their own brain with the sacred impress of God. It has often, and with too much justice, been lamented, that many apply to the Bible for a justification or the opinions which they have already formed, and which they are determined, at all risks, to maintain ; and not to receive the information which they need, and to rectify the prejudices un der which they labour. Finally; To determine the nature and propriety of typical representation, it is of importance to inquire, Whether or not the resemblance which we mean to pursue, has a tendency to promote some moral, practical, 100 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxiv. pious purpose ? Does it inspire reverence, wonder, gratitude, love to God; dependence upon, and trust in him ? Does it engage us to study, to search, to love the scriptures ? Does it impress on the heart a sense of our own weakness, ignorance, and guilt ; and, of the deference, respect and good will which we owe to others ? Or, is it made a minis tering servant to vanity and self-conceit? Leads it our attention from practice to specu lation, to theory from real life? Does it place the essentials of religion in modes of opinion and forms of worship ; and, neglect ing the heart, content itself with playing about and tickling the imagination? The answer to these questions will decide the point. By its fruit, the tree is known. Should all, or any of these remarks seem to bear hard on any of the comparisons which we have endeavoured to establish, we are disposed cheerfully to relinquish the most favourite analogy, rather than seem, in the slightest degree, to misrepresent, disguise, or pervert the truth. We mean not to wrest scripture to our purpose : but would make our purpose with reverence bend to that sacred authority. We would not with sa crilegious hands force out of the Bible, by violence and art a scanty and unnatural crop ; but by diligent cultivation and assiduous care, draw from it a plenteous harvest of what the soil naturally produces. And, we now re turn - from this digression, to pursue the history of Jacob. HISTORY OF JACOB. LECTURE XXIV. And Isaac sent away Jacob, and he went to Padan-aram, unto Laban, son of Bethuel the Syrian, the brother of Rebekah, Jacob's and Esau's mother. And Jacob went out from Beer-sheba, and went towards Haran. — Genesis xxviii. 5. 10. At what stage, or in what condition of human life, can a man say, Now my heart is at rest, now my wishes are accomplished, now my happiness is complete? By what unaccountable, untoward circumstances is the comfort of the worthiest, best ordered, most prosperous families, oft times marred and' destroyed ! Not through vice only do we suffer, but up to some piece of impru dence, or inadvertency ; up to some trifling infirmity in our nature, or some petty fault in our conduct our greatest calamities may . easily be traced. One man has made his fortune, as it is called, but he has impaired his health in the acquisition of it or made shipwreck of a good conscience. Another inherits a fine estate ; but goes childless. There, we behold a numerous and promising family of children ; but the wretched parents have hardly bread to give them : and here, both progeny and plenty; but hatred, and jealousy, and strife, banish tranquillity and ease. The heart of this child is corrupted through indulgence ; the spirit of that one is broken by severity. Isaac is wealthy, but his eyes are dim that he cannot see. God has given him two sons at once, but they are the torment of his life. He is fondly partial to Esau ; and Esau does every thing in his power to mortify and dis oblige his kind and indulgent father. He is unwittingly drawn m to bless Jacob ; and, the very next breath, feels himself constrain ed to pronounce sentence of dismission and banishment upon him. "The whole ordering of the lot is of the Lord," but " men them selves cast it into the lap." Providehce only brings that out, which, with our own hands, we first put in. Jacob has by skill and address pushed himself into the birthright, and by subtilty insinuated himself into the blessing. And how do they sit upon him ? Very uneasily indeed. His father's house is no longer a home for him. Grasping at more than his right, he loses what he already had. Eager ly hastening to preferment, without waiting for Providence, he puts himself just so much farther back. And, seeking rule and pre eminence in his father's family, he finds ser vitude and severity in the house of a stranger. If men will carve for themselves, they must not charge the consequences of their rash ness and presumption upon God. Behold the pilgrim then, on his way, pen sive and solitary ; without so much as a fa vourite, faithful dog, to accompany and to cheer his wanderings. His whole inheri tance, the staff in his hand. Now, for the first time, he knows the heart of a stranger. Now he feels the bitter change from afflu ence to want from- society to solitude, from security and protection to anxiety and dan ger. More forlorn than Adam when expelled LECT. XXIV.] HISTORY OF JACOB 101 from paradise, than Abraham when exiled from his father's house, he has no gentle mate to participate and to soothe his anxie ties and cares. The Scripture assigns no reason, why Isaac's heir, and Rebekoh's favourite son, the hope of a powerful and wealthy family, was dismissed with such slender provision, wholly unattended, and unprotected too, upon a jour ney, according to the best calculations, of about one hundred and fifty leagues, or four hundred and fifty miles, through a country in many places desert and savage, and in others no less dangerous, from the hostile tribes which inhabited and ranged through it But tlie reason, though not directly assigned, is plainly hinted at hi the sixth verse of this chapter, which informs us, that Esau knew of this journey, as well as of the cause and intention of it Jacob therefore may be sup posed to have stolen away secretly, and with out any retinue, and to have shunned the beaten and frequented path to Padan-aram, in order to elude the vigilance and resentment of his brother, who, he had reason to appre hend, would pursue him to take away his life. And besides this, we may justly consi der both the errand on which he was sent to take a wife from an allied and pious family, to propagate a holy and chosen seed ; and the homely, solitary style of his travelling, as a very illustrious instance of faith in God, and obedience to his will, and that not in Ja cob himself only, but in his parents also, who could thus trust the sole prop of their family hopes, and of tlie promise, to dangers so great, and distresses so certain, with no security but what arose from the truth, mercy, and faithfulness of God. The uneasy reflections arising from soli tude, and inspired by a gradual removal from the scenes of his youthful and happy days must have been greatly embittered to Jacob, by the consciousness of his having brought all this upon himself; by the keenness of dis appointment, in the very moment when the spirits were wound up to their highest tone through success ; and by total darkness and uncertainty with respect to his future for tunes. However, the cheerfulness of light, the pleasing change and variety of natural objects as he journeyed on, the ardour and confidence of youthful blood and spirits, car ry him with confidence and joy through the day. But ah ! what is to become of him now that the sun declines, and the shadows ofthe evening begin to lengthen? Overtaken at once by hunger and fatigue, and darkness and apprehension, where shall he seek shel ter, how find repose? Happily, calamity strengthens that soul which it is unable to subdue. The mind, forced back upon itself, finds in itself resources which it knew not of before, and the man who has learned to seek relief in religion, knows where to fly in every time of need. The strong hand of ne cessity is upon our patriarch; submit he must, and therefore he submits with alacrity. And now behold the heir of Abraham and of Isaac, without a place where to lay his head; that head which maternal tenderness had taken pleasure to pillow so softly, and to watch so affectionately. "He lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, be cause the sun was set : and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep."* " Sweet nro the uses of adversity ; Which like the tond, ugly arid venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." Jacob, removed from his earthly parents, is but the nearer to his heavenly Father ; a stranger in the waste howling wilderness, he is at home with God. Cares perplex his waking thoughts, but angels in bands lull his perturbed breast to rest ; they guard, and instruct and bless his slumbering moments. Who does not pity Jacob, as the evening shades gather and close around his head? — Who does not envy his felicity when the morning light appears, and with it, the recol lection ofa night passed in communion with God ? Jacob sleeps, but his heart wakes. — What had been most upon his mind through the day, continues to occupy and to impress his thoughts after his eyes are closed. Won derful, awful, pleasing power of God ! which in the city and in the field, at home and abroad, awake and asleep, moves, directs, governs our bodies and our spirits as it will. What lofty heights is the mind of man capable of attain ing ! What wonders of nature and of grace is the great God capable of unfolding to it, when delivered from the grossness of this clay tabernacle, or when joined to a spiritual body; when we consider the astonishing flights it is even now capable of taking, when the duller senses are laid to rest, and their influence suspended ! Dreams are generally frivolous, meaning less, or absurd. But here is a dream worth repeating, worth recording ; whether we at tend to what was seen or what was said. — What was seen? " Behold a ladder set upon the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven : and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it."f The circumstances of the dreamer, partly interpret the vision. Ja cob's holy desires, his faith and his prayers, had ascended, as on angel's wings, up to the throne of God. Protection and favour, and comfort, descend from the eternal throne, as through the ministration of angels, on Jacob's head. The top of the ladder reacheth unto heaven, but the Lord on high is above it. It standeth upon the earth, but the eye of Jeho vah is at its foundation, and his almighty arm giveth it stability. The cherubim and the sera phim are not above his control and authority; * Gen. xxviii. 11. t Gen. xxviii. 12. 9* 102 HISTORY OF JACOB. [LECT. XXIV. a poor benighted pilgrim is not beneath his notice. Thus, the great plan of the Divine Provi dence, upholding all thmgs, observing all things, subduing all thmgs to his will, was feelingly conveyed to Jacob's mind, in this vision of the night. And in it, the world is instructed, that however great the distance between heaven and earth, however inacces sible that bright abode may be to flesh and blood, to celestial spirits it is but a few steps of a ladder ; before an omnipresent God, in tervening space is swallowed up and lost ; and, condescending mercy 1 sovereign grace keeps that communication ever open, which the malice of hell and the apostacy of man had well nigh interrupted for ever. But I should have given you a very imper fect interpretation of this mysterious dream, did I stop short in it, as merely a symbolical representation of the plan of Providence. For in looking into another part of the sacred re cord, I find the same expressions and ideas applied to a subject of peculiar concernment to the christian world. Christ when entering on the discharge of his public ministry, hav ing given Nathaniel a personal and convinc ing proof of his divine knowledge, adds, — " Thou shalt see greater things than these. Verily, verily, I say unto you, hereafter ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man."* Here then is the true mystery of the ladder which unites heaven and earth. The Son of Man first descending to assume our nature, to achieve in it the work of man's redemption; and then having finished the work given him to do, ascending triumphant ly in glorified humanity, up to heaven again. And, hehold here too, " The Lord standing above." The plan of salvation, as of Provi dence, is the design of him " who worketh all thmgs after the counsel of his will." — "Who in Christ Jesus hath abounded to wards us in all wisdom and prudence," and who " in bringing many sons unto glory, hath made the Captain ofi their salvation perfect through sufferings."t And who are they that ascend and descend along this mysterious scale ? " He maketh his angels spirits, and his ministers a flame ¦of fire."! " Are they not all ministering spi rits, sent forth to minister for them, who shall be heirs of salvation."} If what by Jacob was seen in vision at Bethel be worthy our attention, no less me morable and important are the things which he heard. It was much to hear a repetition of the covenant of God with Abraham and Isaac, his fathers, ratified and confirmed to himself. It was much to hear the blessing lately pronounced over him by the prophetic lips of his earthly parent, conveyed to his •ear by a voiee infinitely more sacred. It was * John i. 51. tHeb. ii. 10. } Ib. i.7. § Ib. 1. 14. much to hear that the land which he then occupied with his weary limbs, as a way faring man who contmueth but for a night, should afterwards be given to him and to his seed for a possession. It was much to hear, from the mouth of God himself, the blessed assurance of protection through his journey, of success in his undertaking, and of a safe return to his native home. It was much to hear of a posterity, innumerable as the sand upon the sea shore, and spreading to the four winds of heaven. But the essence of all these promises, the joy of all this joy, was to hear the renewed, the reiterated promise of a seed descending from him, in whom " all the fami lies of the earth should be blessed." What could Jacob ask ? What had God to bestow, more than this? Here then the vision ends, and Jacob awakes. After the obvious, natural, and we trust, scriptural view, which we have at tempted to give you of the subject, I shall not use your patience so ungratefully as to trespass upon it by going into a detail of the wild waking dreams of paraphrasts, and Rab bins, and pretended interpreters, on this pas sage ofthe sacred history. It is of more im portance to attend to our patriarch, restored, with the mornmg light, to the perfect use of his rational faculties, and making use of the admonitions and consolations of the night season, as a help to piety, and a spur to duty through the day. There was something so singular, both in the subject and external circumstances of his dream, that he immedi ately concluded, and justly, that it was from heaven. And is it not strange, that he who felt no horror at the thought of laying him self down to sleep in a desert place,, under the cloud of night, and alone, is filled with a holy dread when morningarose, at the thought of bemg surrounded with God. " And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place ! This is none other but the house of God: and this is the gate of heaven."* And, if the vi sits of the Almighty, as a father and a friend, be thus awful even to good men, what must be the visitation of his wrath to the ungodly and the sinner ? Jacob arises immediately, and erects a mo nument of such simple materials as the place afforded, to the memory of this heavenly vi sion, which he was desirous thus to impress for ever on his heart. The difference of the expression in the eleventh verse, " he took of the stones of the place, and put them for his pillows," and in the eighteenth, " he took the stone that he had put for his pillow and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil upon the top of it,"t has given occasion to one of the Jewish Rabbins to attempt a reconciliation by a fiction ofhis own brain. Jacob, he says, having chosen out just three stones over night, to support his head, found them all * Gen. xxviii. 17. t Verse 18. xxrv.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 103 joined into one the next morning ; vyhich, he pretends to allege, was a signification of the strict and solid union which subsisted be tween God and Jacob. And some later inter preters, though aided by tlie superior light of tlie gospel dispensation, have been simple enough to adopt this fable, and to explain it, some, ofthe ineffable union ofthe three per sons who are the object of our worship; others, of tlie conjunction of the soul, body, and deity in tlie person of Jesus Christ It appears that Jacob intended simply to record, in such characters as his situation afforded, that night's important transaction. He sets up the stone, or stones, upon which his head had reposed when visited witli the visions of the Almighty, in the form of a rustic pillar, and solemnly anoints, and there by consecrates it, to the honour of God, by the name of Bethel, that is, "the house of God ;" and over it thus dedicated, he afresh and voluntarily enters into solemn covenant with God, obliging himself by a sacred vow, to acknowledge and worship none but him ; committing himself with filial confidence to the protection of his gracious providence ; trusting the time and manner of his return to the care of infinite wisdom ; promising ever to consider this monumental pillar as an altar devoted to the service of God ; and binding himself, by an explicit declaration, to devote to pious uses the tenth part of whatever he should through the divine blessing acquire. By the way, the oil wherewith he consecrated his pillar was undoubtedly part of the slen der provision made for his journey ; and aj> parently a little bread and oil was all he could possibly carry with him. But of that little he cheerfully spares a portion for the purposes of religion ; for the possession of a truly pious soul is small indeed, if it bestow nothing when charity, mercy, or devotion give the call. With what alacrity does he now prosecute his journey ! What a change in his condi tion produced in one short night ! When " the heart is established by grace," difficult things become easy ; the valley is exalted, and the hill laid low ; the crooked becomes straight, and the rough places plain. No thing that the sacred historian deemed worth recording, occurred during the remainder of this pilgrimage. Jacob at length arrived " in the land of the people of the east" And now, no doubt, he flatters himself that all his troubles and mortifications are at an end. His grandfather's servant Eleazer, had been happy enough to finish a marriage treaty for his master's son in a few hours conversation; surely then the heir of the same family may be equally successful when making personal application for himself. Ah blind to futurity ! Strange, unaccountable difference in the di vine conduct towards different persons ! Ja cob must earn that by long fourteen years servitude, which Abraham's servant was so successful as to accomplish in tlie pronouncing of almost as many words. But here we must make another pause, and leave the next sweet scene of Jacob's life, and the sequel of it, to another Lecture. But we must no longer defer, the beginning at least of that parallel which is one object among others, if not the chief, in these exer cises. Jacob was destined of Providence to power and precedency before he was born. Jesus is declared the Son of God, and the heir of all things, by the angel who announced his miraculous conception and birth to his virgin mother. Jacob, the last in order of nature, but first in the election of grace, prefigures him, who, appearing in the end ofthe world, is nevertheless " the first-born among many brethren." Jacob, hated and persecuted of his brother, is an obvious type of him who was to come, " despised and rejected of men ;" crucified and slam by the impious and unna tural hands of those who were his bone and his flesh. Jacob, dismissed with blessings by his father from Beer-sheba, points out to us Jesus leaving heaven's glory, and the bosom of the Father, in compliance with the eter nal decree, to become a wanderer in our world ; " a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." The object of Jacob's journey and of Christ's is one and the same. Jacob, to procure for himself a believing spouse, to become the fruitful mother of an elect off spring ; Jesus, to purchase for himself, at the price of his own blood, " the church, which is his body, to espouse it to himself as a chaste bride," united to him in everlasting bands of interest and affection. Jacob, deserted and solitary in the plain of Bethel, is a shadow of Christ forsaken of all in the wilderness of this world, yet not " alone, but his heavenly Father always with him." The vision of the ladder has already spoken for itself. What then remains but to add, Jacob's covenant, consecration, and vow, are so many different •representations of Christ's covenant of re demption : his unction by the Spirit to the execution of his high office; and not the tithe, but the whole of his vast and glorious acquisition rendered unto God even the Fa ther : when the kingdom is finally delivered up to " him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, that God may be all in all." I add no more but my most fervent prayers to Almighty God— That by night and by day, alone and in society, when you sleep and when you wake, in prosperity and in adver sity, you may be still with God: and that "the Almighty may be your refuge, the- Most High your. habitation," and "under neath" and around you "the everlasting i arms." Amen. ( 104 ) HISTORY OF JACOB. LECTURE XXV. And Jacob served seven years for Rachel : and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her. — Genesis xxix. 20. The great Author of our nature has wisely and wonderfully adapted the various objects which successively solicit our attention and engage our pursuit to the different periods of our life, the different and successive affec tions of our heart, the different stations which we have to occupy, and the duties which we are bound to perform. Human life, in so far as nature predominates over it, does not con sist of violent and sudden transitions, but of calm, gentle, imperceptible changes: like the gradual progress of the day, from the . morning dawn to meridian splendour ; and thence gradually back again, to the glim mering twilight of the evening, and the shades of night. We emerge not at once from infancy into manhood ; we sink not in a moment from manhood into old age. We grow, and we decline, without perceiving any alteration. Betwixt the giddiness and inconsideration of childhood; and the serious cares and employments of mature age, there is a middle and an important stage of life, which connects the two. And there is a passion happily suited to it, which contains and unites the spirit of both ; a passion which blends the vivacity and impetuosity of the boy with the gravity and thoughtfulness of the man : that noble, generous passion, which the great God has implanted in our nature, to attract, unite, and bless mankind; and which, therefore, the pen of inspiration has not disdained, in its own inimitable manner, to describe. It was this passion which speedi ly compensated to Jacob the loss of his fa ther's house, and the pains ofa tedious jour ney ; which sweetened and shortened seven long years of hard and mortifying servitude ; but which, at the same time, anticipated both the cares and the delights of future life. Jacob, cheered and supported by the recol lection ofhis vision at Bethel, and animated with the hope of a happy meeting with his friends and relations at Padan-aram, goes on his way rejoicing ; and, guided, protected, and sustained by an indulgent Providence, he arrives in safety. It was that simple, in nocent and happy age ef the world, when the chief occupations and enjoyments of human nature were seen in the shepherd's life; while, as yet gold had not settled the price of every other production ofthe natural world, nor determined the importance of all intellect tual endowments: while as yet, commerce had not opened her ten thousand channels of luxury, to enervate, corrupt, and destroy man kind. His conversation with the shepherds of Haran* must always afford exquisite de light to those, whose taste, undebauched by the frippery of modern manners, and the af fectation of ceremony and compliment can relish the honest simplicity of nature, and the genuine expression of unaffected, unsophisti cated kindness and benevolence. From them he has the pleasure of hearing that his kins man Laban lived in the neighbourhood, and was in health ; and that his daughter Rachel was every moment expected to come to the watering-place, with her father's flock. — White they are yet speaking, Rachel, beau tiful as the opening spring, and innocent as the lambs she tended, draws nigh with her fleecy charge. With what admirable propri ety and skill do the holy scriptures represent the most distinguished, exalted, and amiable female characters, engaged in virtuous, hum: ble, useful employments ! Sarah, baking cakes upon the hearth, for the entertainment of her husband's guest; Rebekah, drawing water for the daily use of her brother's family, and the refreshment of the weary traveller ; and Rachel feeding her father's sheep. O that ye knew, my fair friends, wherein your true dignity, value, and importance consisted! They consist in being what God from the be ginning intended you to be, " an help meet for man ;" not the mere instrument of his pleasure, nor the silly idol of his adoration. Jacob, with the ardour natural to a manly spirit, and the zeal of an affectionate relation, runs up to salute and assist his fair kinswo man. Little offices of civility are the natu ral expression of a good and honest heart ; they often suggest the first sentiments of love, both to those who confer, and to those who receive them ; and they keep love alive af ter it is kindled. The meeting of that day, and Jacob's natural, easy, officious gallantry, in relieving Rachel, on their very first rencoun ter, of the heaviest part of her pastoral task, inspired, I doubt not, emotions very different from those which the mere force of blood pro duces ; and were, I am sure, recollected by both, with inexpressible satisfaction, many a time afterward. And little do I know ofthe * Gen. xxix. 1—8. LECT. XXV.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 105 female heart, if it would not much rather be wooed with the attentions and assiduities of an agreeable man, than by tlie prudent and dis gusting formalities of settlements, and deeds, and reversions. Rebekah was courted by proxy, with presents and promises ; Rachel, by her destined husband in person, with the looks and the language, and the service of love. Betwixt the union of Isaac and Rebekah, that match of interest and prudence, no obstacle, except the trifling distance of place, interpos ed; but many difficulties occurred to retard, to prevent and to mar the union of Jacob and Rachel, founded in esteem and prompted by affection. They become insensibly attached to each other. For love does not give the first warning of his approach to the parties themselves. But it did not long escape the penetrating selfish eye of the crafty father and uncle ; who, from the moment he observes this growing passion in his nephew and daughter, casts about how best to convert it to his own advantage. Jacob had frankly told him his whole situa tion, and laid open all his heart. He inform ed him, that he hod indeed purchased the birthright and obtained the prophetic bless ing ; but that through fear of his brother he had been constrained to flee from home, and to seek protection in Syria. This was, by no means, a situation likely to engage the at tention and to procure the kindness of a worldly mind. An empty, nominal birthright, and a blessing which promised only distant wealth, were very slender possessions, in the eye fit covetous Laban. He could not help comparing the splendid retinue of Eleazer, seeking a wife for his master's son, with the simple appearance of Jacob, come a courting to his family, with only a staff in his hand ; and he finds it greatly to the disadvantage of the latter. But it is the interest of avarice to put on at least the appearance of that jus tice which it secretly dreads and hates, if not of that generosity which it despises. Jacob had, unsolicited, and without a stipulation, hitherto rendered Laban his best services for nothing. Indeed he was thinking of but one thing in the world, and that was, how to ren der himself agreeable to his amiable cousin. When, therefore, Laban, who must clearly have foreseen the answer, under an affect ed regard to the interest of his relation, in quires into and proposes the condition of his future services, he without hesitation men tions a marriage with his younger daughter. And, having no marriage portion to give the father, as the custom of the times and of the country required, he offers, as an equivalent, seven years personal* servitude and labour. What is loss of ease, loss of liberty, loss'of life, to love ? When I behold Jacob, at such a price, ready and happy to purchase the object of his affection, whether shall I pity or contemn the cold, timid, selfish hearts of the young O men of the present generation, who persist in tho neglect of natuio's clearest, plainest law, from,! know not what, pretended reasons of caution and wisdom, which would fain pass for virtue ; but are in reality the offspring of pride and luxury, pusillanimity and self-love. The proposal is no sooner made than ac cepted. And Laban has the satisfaction of at once betrothing his daughter to wealthy Isaac's son and heir, and of securing for him self the present emolument of Jacob's labour, care and fidelity for seven good years. Thus, the rights of humanity, the laws of hospitality, and the ties of blood, are all made basely to truckle to the most sordid and detestable of all human passions. And behold the free- born grandson of Abraham sinks into abject servitude, and, the worst of all servitude, subjection to a near relation. But, as every blessing of life has its cor responding inconvenience, so every evil has its antidote. Jacob is contented and happy, while his pains and fatigue are alleviated by the conversation of his beloved Rachel ; and, what is it to him, that the stern, discontented father frowns and chides, so long as the beautiful daughter receives him with com placency and smiles ? He bears with patience and cheerfulness the ardour of the meridian sun, and the cold chilling damps of the eve ning, in the hope of that blest hour, when tender sympathy shall sooth his distresses, and every uneasiness shall be lulled to rest, in the bosom of love. In this sweet com merce, the years of slavery glide impercepti bly away : and what absence would have ren dered insupportably long, the presence ofthe beloved object has shortened into the appear ance ofa few days. Such is the inconceivable charm of virtuous love. " Jacob served seven years for Rachel : and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to heir."* Jacob, having faithfully fulfilled his part of the covenant now calls on Laban to fulfil what was incumbent upon him. The better to conceal die fraud which he was meditating, he feigns compliance : and, believing, Jacob is amused with all the usual apparatus of ,a marriage feast In conformity to the custom of those eastern nations, the bride Was con ducted to the bed of her husband, with si lence, in darkness, and covered from head to foot with a veil ; circumstances, all of them favourable to the wicked, selfish plan, which Laban had formed, to detain his son-in-law longer in his service. Leah is accordingly substituted in room of her sister. And he who by subtilty and falsehood stole away the blessing intended for his brother, is punished for his deceit, by finding a Leah where he expected a Rachel. He who availed himself of an undue advantage to arrive at the right . of the first-born, has undue advantage taken of him in having the first-born put in the * Gen. xxix. 20. 106 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. place of the younger. He who could prac tice upon a father's blindness, though to ob tain a laudable end, is in his turn practised upoii, by a father, employing the cover of night to accomplish a very unwarrantable purpose. Laban was base, treacherous, and wicked ; but Heaven is wise, and holy, and just. Let the man who dares to think of do ing evil in the hope that good may come, look at Jacob, and tremble. The shame, vexation, and distress of such a disappoint ment, are more easily imagined than descri bed. And, what are ail the votaries of sinful pleasure preparing for themselves? Trea suring up shame and sorrow, when the deli rium of passion is over, and the returning light of reason awakens them to reflection and remorse. They thought it " to be Ra chel, but in the morning behold it was Leah." The next day, as may well be supposed, exhibited a scene of no pleasing kind : ex postulation, upbraiding, and reproach. Laban, as avarice seldom chooses to avow its real motives, endeavours to justify his treachery and breach of faith, by a pretended regard for the laws and manners of his country, which permitted not the younger to be given in marriage before the first-born. An honest man would have given this information when the bargain was first proposed. It was an insult, not an indemnification, to produce it now. What will not this base passion make a man do ? To deceive the unsuspecting and unwary ; to oppress the weak ; to practise upon the stranger, are among its simpler and more customary operations. Behold it lead ing a father, to by what name shall I call it? — prostitute his own daughter. If there be a crime blacker than another ; if, Satan, there be a purpose thou wouldst ac complish, which modesty shudders to think of, which the hand trembles to perpetrate, from which the conscience in horror recoils ; infuse into some dark heart the demon of covetousness, the love of money ; place gain in one eye, prostitution and parricide in the other, and the work of hell is done. Mark how easy and flexible the conscience of a miser is. Let interest blow the gate, from whatever quarter it be, and lo, with the rapidity of thought, the understanding and conscience ofthe covetous wretch are veered round with it! The man, who last night shuddered at the thought of violating a fool ish and absurd fashion of the country is not ashamed, the very next morning, to propose polygamy and incest ; and to make his own children the instruments of them. Whence this strange inconsistency ? It was for his advantage to adhere to the custom of the country; and to dispense with the laws of God and nature. What does it concern bim, that disorder and distress are introduced into his daughter's family, so long as it can any how redound to his private benefit? If an other man have what may be called a weak side, avarice is quicksighted as the eagle to discern it, and not more penetrating to dis cover than dexterous to convert it to its own emolument. Unfortunately, Jacob's infirmity was clear as the sun at noon. His unextin guished, unabated passion for Rachel was well known to her rapacious father; who had, with a joy which the worldly mind alone can feel, seen his flocks multiply, and his wealth increase, under Jacob's care. Unsa tisfied and insatiable, he builds upon this well-known attachment the project of a far ther continuation of Jacob's servitude, with all its accumulation of riches and conse quence. The proposal which avarice made without a blush, love accepted with perhaps too much precipitation. We are not framing an apology for Jacob's conduct, but delivermg the fea- tures of his character, and the lines of his history, from the sacred record. But this much we may venture to affirm, that Jacob, left to himself, and to the honest workings ofa heart inspired by the love of an estima ble object, would never have dreamt of a plurality of wives ; much less of assuming the sister of his beloved Rachel, to be her rival in his affections. It does not appear, that the solemnization of Jacob's marriage with Rachel, was deferred till the expiration of the second term of seven yeans. Provided Laban got sufficient security for performance of the agreement, it was indifferent to him when the other got possession of the bride. It is probable, therefore, that he gave way immediately to Jacob's wishes ; and the more so, that his business was likely to be executed with greater fidelity and zeal, by a servant and son gratified, indulged, and obliged, than by one soured by disappointment, dissatisfied and irritated by unkindness and deceit. Be hold then Jacob, at length, at the summit of his hopes and desires. After much de lay, through many difficulties, which have strengthened, not extinguished affection, Ra chel is at last his wife. But alas, human life admits not of perfect bliss ! The seeds of jealousy and strife are sown in Jacob's family. The wife who en joyed the largest share of the husband's af fection, is doomed to sterility ; the less be loved, is blessed with children. Thus a wise and gracious Providence, by setting one thing against another, preserves the pros perous from pride and insolence, and the wretched from despair. Twenty years did Isaac and Rebekah live in wedlock without a child, though the inheritance and succes sion of all Abraham's wealth and prospects de pended upon it; whereas the family of Jacob, a simple shepherd, earning his subsistence by the sweat ofhis brow, the servant of another man, is built up and increases apace. The good things of life seem, to the superficial LECT. XXVI.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 107 and discontented, to be unequally divided ; but there is no balance so exact as that in which all conditions and all events are weighed. The great Governor of the world does not indeed conform himself, in the dispensations of his providence, to the misconceptions and prejudices of short-sighted, erring men ; but he is affording ignorant, erring men, if they will but be attentive, perpetual cause to adore and admire his wisdom and justice, his mercy and faithfulness. Leah bears to Jacob, as fast as the course of nature permitted, four sons one after another ; and, what is remark able, not only is the hated wife first honoured with bemg a mother, but with being the mother of the two tribes destined to the priesthood and to royal dignity; nay, the mother, remotely, of the chosen seed ; a dig nity after which every mother, since the first dawning ofthe promise, eagerly aspired. The fruitfulness of her sister violently ex cites Rachel's envy. The partiality of Jacob to her, and all his profusion of tenderness, avail her nothing. She is unable to suppress her chagrin and mortification; and, in the bitterness of her heart, forgets both the re spect which she owed her husband, and the submission she ought to have paid to the will of God. " And she said unto Jacob, Give me children or else I die."* How odious, how pitiable are the sentiments, the looks and the language of passion, to the calm and dispas sionate ; nay, to the passionate man himself, when the fit is over, and passion has spent itself! "And Jacob's anger was kindled against Rachel : and he said, Am I in God's stead ; who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb ?"f What! and can the anger of Jacob be kindled against his Rachel, his first his only love ! to obtain whom he cheer fully served fourteen years ! My fair hearers, presume not too far on the fondness of the men who love you. Be calm, be moderate, be unassuming, be reasonable, be submissive, * Gen. xxx. 1. f Gen. xxx. 2. and ye are every thing. Be arrogant, im petuous, self-sufficient, imperious, unreason able, and ye sink into nothing. I tremble to think ofthe dreadful length a woman will go to gratify her own spleen, and to mortify a rival. In truth, she ceases to be a female, where certain feminine points are to be car ried ; and the leading, distinguishing charac teristics of the sex are lost and sunk in the feelings of the individual. What ! the jea lous, envious Rachel, who found her beloved husband had already one wife too many, to thmk of throwing another into his bosom ! But her too happy sister and rival is to be mortified ; and she cares not what pangs it costs her own heart O, my gentle friends, you are yourselves the framers of your own fortunes. Be yourselves, and I will answer for my own sex. But quit the ground on which God and nature have placed you, and you are indeed to be pitied. If I might ven ture to hazard an opinion, not altogether un warranted by the history, and which I am convinced by experience to be well founded : you much oftener lose your object by over eagerness than by inattention. You may, now and then, succeed by address, or vfehe- mence, or force ; but you will succeed more certainly, and much more pleasantly with God and with man, by meekness, and gentle ness, and submission. Thus was Jacob most grievously wounded, there, where he was most vulnerable ; most violently disturbed, there, where he pro mised himself perfect repose. Thus, our heaviest crosses arise out of our dearest comforts ; and the pursuits of " vanity," issue in " vexation of spirit." Thus, all things conspire to give full assurance to the chil dren of men, " that this is not their rest ;" and invite them to seek " another country, that is an heavenly, where there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, nor pain," and " God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." HISTORY OF JACOB. LECTURE XXVI. And it came to pass when Rachel had borne Joseph, that Jacob said unto Laban-, Send me away, that I may go unto mine own place and to my country. Give me my wives, and my children for whom I have served thee, and let me go : for thou knowest my service" which I have done thee. And Laban said unto him, I pray thee, if I have found favour in thine eyes, tarry, for I have learned by experience, that the Lord hath blessed me for thy sake. And he said, appoint me thy wages, and I will give it And he said unto him, Thou knowest how I have served thee, and how thy cattle was with me. For it was little which thou hadst before I came : and it is now increased unto a multitude ; and the Lord hath blessed thee since my coming : and now when shall I provide for mine own house also ?-t<3ene- sisjcxx. 25 — 30. 108 HISTORY OF 'JACOB. [lect. XXVI. There is no subject of contemplation more pleasing, more instructive, more composing to the mind, than the wisdom and goodness of the Divine Providence, in adapting and adjusting, with such consummate skill, the understanding, the dispositions, and the ex ertions of men, to their various and succes sive situations, relations, employments, and fortunes. What so feeble, so helpless, so necessitous as a new-born infant ? But its proper aliment has accompanied it into the ^jforld. Its first cry has awakened ten thou sand fond affections in one, who, at the ha zard of her life, brought it forth, and at the hazard of her life, is ready to preserve it. What so giddy, rash, inconsiderate as youth ? But the father is proportionably thoughtful, serious, and attentive. Man, of all animals, stands longest in need of support and pro tection ; therefore natural affection in man is more intelligent and of greater duration than in any other creature. Instinct and reason unite their force, in aid of the length ened infancy and childhood of the human race. Parents often, and unjustly, complain, that their care and tenderness meet not with reciprocal returns of attachment and affec tion from their children ; not considering, that this current sets continually downward, and that the love which we bear to our off spring nature has intended they should re pay, not to us, but to their offspring. Do our children grieve and vex us with their levity, and thoughtlessness, and folly ? Let us have a little patience. By and by they shall be come fathers and mothers ; and then shall they be cured of what now gives us so much uneasiness ; and then shall they be grieved, vexed, and mortified, in their turn. The anxieties which Jacob's dissension with his brother occasioned to their fond pa rents are now thickening upon his own head. In the last period of his life, we saw the ho nest shepherd following his simple employ ment with cheerfulness and joy; drinking delicious draughts of love from the approving eyes of his amiable shepherdess ; and be guiling the tedious months of servitude in converse with his Rachel, and with the pros pect of that bright hour, which was to crown his hopes, and to reward all his toil. But those soft moments have passed away, and vanished like a dream ; their flight was not perceived ; their value is understood and prized after they are forever, gone. The cares, and troubles, and apprehensions of a father now occupy his mind. Jealousy and strife disturb his repose. Why multiply ela borate arguments against the practice of po lygamy? Look into the wretched disorder and discord of those families which have been built upon that unnatural system, and be as sured it is not it cannot be, from Him, who loves the children of men, and all whose in stitutions aim at making them happy. The rival sisters, rather than not mortify each other, voluntarily mortify and degrade them selves, by raising their handmaids to a par ticipation of their husband's bed. Envy and revenge, if they can but hurt an adversary, regard not the wounds which they inflict at home. Unhappy Jacob ! my heart bleeds for him. His time, and labour, and strength, are at the disposal of a selfish, hard-hearted, insatiable father-in-law ; his very person and affections are insolently settled, disposed of, and transferred at the pleasure of two jealous, wrangling sisters : while, behold a family rising and increasing upon him, without the power or means of making any provision for it The mind of his beloved Rachel, whom he had earned at the hard price of fourteen years painful service, is soured and cha grined by the want of one blessing. The la bours of the field through the day, are not relieved at night by the tenderness of sym pathy and love, but embittered and aggra vated by womanish altercation and strife. What could have supported him but reli gion? Leah has, at various intervals, borne Jacob six sons and a daughter : and Rachel's grief and despair are at their height, when God, whose counsels move not, nor stand still in complaisance to our desires or caprices, thinks meet to remove her sorrow and reproach; and she becomes the joyful mother of a son. What ingenious pains the silly mothers take to perpetuate the memory of their jealous sentiments and contentions, in the names which they impose upon their children ; im piously -presuming to drag in Providence as a party to their quarrel ; foolishly and wick edly transmitting their contemptible hatred and animosity to the disturbance and distress of their posterity ; and madly sowing the seeds of a plague, which might one day break out and consume them ! O how different the jealous spirit which at first dictated the names of the twelve heads of the tribes of Israel, from that prophetic spirit which foresaw and predicted their future characters and situa tions, as it breathed from the lips of their dying father ; and, from the mind of God, who was employing female spleen and pas sion, to declare his own purposes and designs. About the time of Joseph's birth, it would appear, the term of Jacob's servitude had ex pired. He now therefore naturally thinks ofthe home which he had left so long before, and of the obligations which he lay under, to exert himself in the maintenance and pro vision of his numerous family. He therefore modestly applies to Laban for his dismission. That greedy kinsman, well aware"of the ad vantages which had accrued to him from Ja cob's diligence, fidelity, and zeal, expresses much regret on hearing this proposal. But, it is not regret at the thought of parting with his daughters and grandchildren: it is not LECT. XXVI.] HISTORY OF JACOB 109 the tender concern of bidding a long farewell to a near relation and faithful servant. No, it is regret at losing an instrument of gain : it is the sorrow of a man who loves only him self. Hitherto, the profits of Jacob's industry had been wholly his uncle's. He had most un generously taken advantage ofhis nephew's passion for his daughter, to reduce him into a mere drudge for his own interest. From a sense of shame, as well as a regard to inte rest he is at length constrained to Jacob's sharing the fruits ofhis own labour with him. Laban's craftiness had proved too hard for Jacob's candour and integrity ; but the wis dom of Heaven, at last proves more than a match for even the cunning of a Laban. Ja cob, whether prompted from above, or in structed by natural sagacity, aided hy expe rience, proposes as his hire, such a part of the flocks which he fed, as should be, in fu ture, produced of a certain description, " the ring-straked, speckled, and spotted," — which were so few in number, that they might ra ther be reckoned the sportings than the re gular productions of nature. Laban acquiesces without hesitation in this proposal ; wonder ing in himself, I doubt not that Jacob should be so simple as to make it. An entire sepa ration is accordingly made, without delay, be tween the cattle ofthe description which had been stipulated, and the rest of the flock. They are removed to prevent all occasion of suspicion and complaint, to the distance ofa three days' journey ; and delivered into the custody of Laban's sons, men too like their father to throw any thing into Jacob's scale, either through good-will, neglect, or care lessness. Jacob continues to tend the re mainder ofthe flocks, pure from all mixture, and they were by far the greatest part of the flock, for his father-in-law. The device which he employed, and which seems to haye been suggested to him in a dream, is well known to all who read the scriptures. It has been disputed, whether the success of it was in the ordinary course of natural cause and effect, or was entirely produced by a miraculous interposition in fa vour of our patriarch. Indeed, there seems in it a great deal of both the one and the other. That the female, in the moment of conception, should be more than usually sus ceptible of strong and extraordinary im pressions, and capable of transmitting that impression to her young, so as clearly to mark and distinguish it, is too fully proved by experience to be denied. But this hap pens too seldom in the usual walk of nature, to permit us to suppose that the extraordi nary increase of Jacob's cattle was in the mere current of things, aided a little by hu man sagacity and skill. That one lamb, or kid, should be marked with " the streaks of the poplar, hazel, and chestnut rods," or, that one here and there through the flock should be thus distinguished, we can easily believe to happen without a miracle. But, that the great bulk of the young should bear this signature ; that, as the impressing object was exhibited or withdrawn, the dams should conceive uniformly and correspondently, is, on no principle of nature or of art, to be ac counted for. The finger of God is therefore to be seen and acknowledged in it. Thus was the condition of Jacob speedily and won derfully changed to the better: "And the man increased exceedingly, and had much cattle, and maid-servants, and men-servants, and camels, and asses."* And thus, the world is instructed, that he who fears and fol lows God, will sooner or later find his reward. But it seems determined of Providence, that Jacob should never find a place of rest. Lately, he was poor and dependent, and thence anxious in his own mind, and liable to msult, and unkindness, and oppression from others. Now, he is rich and prosper ous, and thence exposed to hatred and envy. And envy, like a plague or a torrent, sweeps every thing before it. We may easily con ceive with what watchful jealousy Jacob's carriage and his charge were observed by such men as Laban and his sons. With what astonishment and indignation did they be hold the best and most beautiful of the ewes and she-goats bringing forth nothing but "speckled and spotted!" Their rage and discontent are, for awhile, expressed by sul len looks and secret murmurs only. At length they become too violent to be sup pressed, and break forth into open scurrility and abuse. The tongue of the gloomy father indeed says nothing — What can he say? But his averted looks, his glaring, dissatisfied, indignant eyes, fully declare the anguish that preys upon his heart. I confess I am malicious enough to enjoy it. I love to see the envious man goaded and stung by the lashes and snakes of his own dark, empoison ed conscience ; because I love to see mankind happy. It gives me pleasure to" see the ge nerous rival of a sordid miser, surpassing him in wealth, eclipsing him in estimation and success .' galling him by his prosperity and liberality. Jacob, however, is unable to stand it. And, judging it better for all parties that they should separate, to save himself the distress of encountering the bitter words and sour looks of unkind relations, and to spare them the misery of witnessing his. growing pros perity, he proposes to return to his aged, kind parents, from whom he was certain of meet ing with a cordially affectionate reception. The dialogue which passed between Ja cob and his wives upon this occasion,! lets us deeper into the distresses and discomforts of his present condition ; and exhibits the * Gen. xxx. t Gen. xxxi. 4—16. 10 110 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxvi. picture of a covetous man in still livelier, but therefore the more odious colours. From it we learn, that the sordid father, not con tented with exacting of his son-in-law the rigorous performance of his hard bargain, according to the rules of strict justice, (and the justice ofa miser is stern, unfeeling, and severe indeed) frequently had recourse to trick and chicane to over-reach and defraud him. No fidelity could please, no submission mollify, no attachment subdue, no tie of jus tice bind, no call of nature awaken his im penetrable, selfish heart. " Ye know that with all my power I have served your father. And your fether hath deceived me, and changed my wages ten times, but God suf fered him not to hurt me."* " And Rachel and Leah answered and said unto him, Is there yet any portion of inheritance for us in our father's house ? Are we not counted of him strangers? For he hath sold us, and hath quite devoured also our money."t Whom do men commonly cherish and love with peculiar tenderness ? Their daughters and grandchildren. For whom do men usually save, and gain, and lay up in store ? For their daughters and grandchildren. But behold, here is a father who has sold his daughters for hire, who treats them as stran gers to his blood, defrauds them of their un doubted right ! Behold a grandfather taking pleasure, not in the innocent prattle, not in the dawning genius, not in the increasmg stature of the young ones who descended from his own loins ; not in smoothing for them the rugged path of life, not in extending and brightening their prospects, not in rearing and establishing their fortunes ! but, in di verting the streams of their subsistence ; but in grasping to himself the hard-earned fruits of their father's industry ; but, in un dermining, counteracting, destroying their interests and their hopes ! How happy it is for the world, that this vile passion is neither immortal nor omnipotent ! God is, in spite of Laban, fulfilling to Ja cob the covenant and promise which he en tered into at Bethel. Jacob had stipulated but moderate things for himself, " bread to eat and raiment to put on," whilst he was from home ; and a peaceable and safe return to his father's house : and lo, an indulgent Providence has far exceeded his expecta tions, and even his desires. But, if he be increased, he is also encumbered ; if his stock be larger, so is also his care ; have his comforts multiplied ? he is but the more vul nerable. A retinue, consisting of two wives and as many concubines; twelve children, the eldest but thirteen years old, and the youngest under seven ; of the servants ne cessary to a family so numerous ; of a live stock so extensive, to be removed, and of the attendants absolutely needful for that pur- * Gen. xxxi. 6, 7. t Ver. 14, 15. pose ; a family ,such as this, was in a con dition very unfavourable to the journey which they are about to undertake, especially, liable as they were to be pursued and overtaken by incensed Laban ; or, intercepted and cut off by the way, by the equally incensed Esau. But, Jacob is following the direction of Hea ven, and therefore proceeds with humble con fidence. What a destroyer of human com fort is wealth, that universal object of pursuit ! See, it has alienated the affections of one man from his own family ; it has driven another to flee from that person as an enemy, whom he had once sought unto as a friend. In one shape or another, this evil affection, the love of riches, is, I am afraid, at the bot- tom of most ofthe ill we do, and of most of the ills which we suffer. Jacob, having communicated his intention to his family, and obtained their hearty con currence, takes advantage of Laban's occu pation in the business of his sheep-shearing, to steal away homeward. And he has the felicity of gaining three days' journey,' before the news of his flight have reached the un cle. But encumbered as he was, this is but a slight advantage, if a pursuit were attempt ed ; and he must be indebted for his safety, after all, to the protection of that God whom he was following, and not to his own wisdom, foresight, speed, or force. Jacob, I dare say, was scrupulously careful to remove nothing but what was, by a clear and undoubted title, his own. He who, had repeatedly and patiently submitted to impo sition and oppression, for the sake of quiet ness, was not likely to provoke enmity, and justify vengeance, by robbery and plunder. But Rachel, in what view, and for what rea son, it is not easy to determine, Las " stolen away the images which were her father's." Many solutions have been attempted, of this strange and unaccountable piece of theft. Some of them I shall just mention, leaving you to form your own judgment of the mat ter. It is alleged by some Rabbins, that she carried off the Teraphim or idols, lest her father, by consulting them, should discover' the route which Jacob had taken, and so pur sue with the greater certainty of overtaking him. Some ascribe her conduct to piety and natural affection, as if she meant to make Laban sensible of the weakness of deities which would suffer themselves to be stolen away, without giving notice of such a design, and were incapable of making any resist ance ; thereby hoping to detach her father from the absurdity and impiety of idol wor ship. Others, less charitably disposed to wards her, represent her as a true daughter of Laban, instigated by covetousness, to pur loin the deities, for the value ofthe precious materials of which they were composed, or whereby they were ornamented. And Chry sostom, with almost equal severity, accounts LECT. xxvi.] HISTORY OF JACOB. Ill for tlie robbery from her predilection in fa vour of idolatry. Thus Jacob lef^t his father-in-law : or, to use the marginal reading, which is sufficient ly warranted by the Hebrew words, " stole away the heart of Laban the Syrian ;" that is, either he acted with so much prudence and caution, that Laban suspected not, fa thomed not his design; or, he stole away that which was dear to him as his heart and soul, his precious, precious wealth. The se quel abundantly justifies this latter interpre tation. For Laban is no sooner informed of his son-in-law's escape, than, without the shadow of a pretence to molest him on his way, or to force him back, makes after him with a powerful body of his friends, if not to plunder and murder him, at least, to oblige him to return. After seven days' hasty march ing, he overtakes him and his cumbersome tram, in Mount Gilead ; and he is ready to seize on his defenceless prey. But the God in whom Jacob trusted, plants around him a fence more impenetrable than the adaman tine rock. Laban's gods could not hinder themselves from being stolen away by a sim ple woman, and packed up among other lum ber, to be conveyed off: but Jacob's God is watching and protecting him night and day; nay, watching his enemy too, to check and repress him. For, the vision of the Almighty, is not only with them that fear him, to direct and comfort them, but sometimes also with them that fear him not, to restrain, to threaten, t and to terrify them. God, in a dream by night charges Laban, in a manner which he could not but under stand, feel, and remember, charges him at his peril to offer Jacob any injury in word or deed : " for when a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemy to be at peace with him." Thus warned, he comes up with his nephew next mornmg ; and, like many, who, when they are galled by an ill conscience, endeavour to ease themselves of its reproaches, by transferring the blame from themselves to the persons whom they have wronged ; he reproaches Jacob with a con duct, which, he well knew, had resulted entirely from his own harshness and severity, and upbraids him with unkind behaviour to his daughters, fully convinced all the while, that they had no ground of complaint against any one, so much as against their own unnatu ral, unkind father, who had counted them as strangers: "for he hath sold us, and hath quite devoured also our money." It is pleasant to hear a miserly wretch talk of the liberal and generous things which he intended to have done, after the call and occasion are over, and his generosity is in no danger of bemg brought to the test. — " Wherefore didst thou flee away secretly, and steal away from me ? and didst not tell me that I might have sent thee away with mirth, and with songs, with tabrot, and with harp ? And hast not suffered me to lass my sons and my daughters? Thou hast now done foolishly, in so doing."* But truth will appear tlirough the closest disguise. With all this pompous parade of kindness and af fection, he is weak enough to avow the vio lent purpose with which he had undertaken the pursuit, and, from his father-in-law's own lips, Jacob has the satisfaction to learn that he owed his safetyto the kind interposition of a heavenly, not to the altered mind of an earthly parent But, figure to yourselves Jacob's surprise, when charged by Laban with having stolen his gods. If there was a thing about Laban's house more odious and contemptible than another in his eyes, it was his Teraphim. — He would justly have reckoned such an im pure mixture among his goods as the cor rupter and destroyer of the whole. His de fence therefore is simple, yet forcible ; be cause it is the language of genuine truth, and of conscious innocence and integrity. I like Jacob's speech throughout! It is the language ofa good and honest heart. Your time permits me not to make any commen tary upon it. Indeed it needs none. Ob serve only, in general, how generous is the fear which he expresses, lest Laban should violently resume the wives whom he had given him. Some of them had been obtru ded upon him by fraud, others by persuasion ; but they are the mothers ofhis children, and therefore he cannot bear to think of parting with them, though he might have been per mitted. How noble is the disdain and in dignation which he expresses, on being charged with the theft of Laban's gods ! How manly the recapitulation of his past services and sufferings ! How bold the de fiance he bids to malice and resentment ! But, it discovers too much of a great and generous spirit, to be passed over thus slight ly. I must therefore take the liberty to re sume it, and to enlarge a little upon it — and now hasten to conclude; with this single idea, of the analogy which we never wish for a moment to lose sight of. Jacob, leaving Canaan, solitary and poor, banished from his father's house, and degraded into slavery : and Jacob, returning, loaded with the spoils of churlish Laban, and blessed with a nu merous, prosperous, and increasing family, without a violent stretch of thought, pre figures to us — Jesus, descending from hea ven, and the original splendours of his na ture ; voluntarily depressing himself into the form of a servant, and meekly submitting, for a season, and to accomplish a great and important purpose, to the want of the smiles of his heavenly Father's countenance : and " the glory that followed" — his triumphant return to heaven, adorned with the spoils of * Gen. xxxi. 37, 28. t Gen. xxxi. 36—42 112 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxvii. death and hell, and attended by an innu merable train of spiritual sons and daughters, acquired in a strange land, adopted into the family of God, constituted the heirs of glory, and in due time to be exalted, together with' their glorious Head, to heavenly thrones. May we, beloved, swell the triumph of that day, and find eternal rest from the toils and dangers ofthe way, in the bosom of our Fa ther and our God. Amen. HISTORY OF JACOB, LECTURE XXVII. And Jacob said, O God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac, the Lord which saidst unto me, Return unto thy country, and to thy kindred, and I will deal well with thee : I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast showed unto thy servant : for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands. Deliver me, I pray thee, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau: for I fear him, lest he will come and smite me, and the mo ther with the children. — Genesis xxxii. 9 — 11. The man who is instructed to " acknow ledge God in all his ways," and he only, has found out the road that leads to true happi ness. The cup of prosperity wants its choi cest ingredient when the love of our heaven ly Father, is not tasted in it. The bitterest potion, when mingled by his "hand, we can drink with confidence and cheerfulness. It is pleasant to a man, to see his own sagacity and diligence crowned with success. But very imperfect is that pleasure unless he can look up and say with submission and grati tude, " the blessing of the Lord it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow therewith." There is a virulence in the ills which we bring upon ourselves, or which flow from the unkindness and injustice of others, that cor rodes the heart, and depresses the spirit. But calamity, the appointment of Heaven, calamity the discipline of a Father's care and wisdom, brings its own relief along with it. The very poison, if administered by his hand, becomes its own antidote, and what threaten ed to kill, effects a cure. It would greatly tend to improve our wis dom, to promote our piety, and increase our pleasure, to take frequent and particular re views of our own life ; and to observe the changes which have taken place in our cir cumstances from time to time, in connexion with the means and instruments which Provi dence more clearly or more obscurely has employed, and through which our enterprizes have succeeded or failed. Many, very many, have arrived at situations to which once in their lives they durst not have presumed to aspire. But their present elevation and prosperity want their brightest ornament and their firmest support if they be destitute of that spirit which good Jacob breathes in the words which I have read — that spirit which ascribes every acquisition, every hlessing to the wonder-working hand of indulgent Heaven. Few men have experienced greater varie ties, greater reverses of condition than our patriarch. But we find him perpetually gathering strength from the hardships which he endured, supporting a life of uninterrupt ed, unutterable affliction with patience and fortitude, suffering and feeling as a man but enduring and overcoming as a saint, and at length closing the extended scene of wo with the triumph of a believer exulting in the bright, unclouded prospects of immor tality. One general remark may be applied to his whole history. His deepest distresses sprung out ofhis choicest comforts; his most signal successes took their rise from his hea viest afflictions. The attainment of the birth right and the blessing drove him into banish ment ; the labour, watchfulness, and anxiety of a shepherd's life conducted him to opu lence and importance. The elevation which he too eagerly grasped at was the cause of his depression ; the humiliation to which he voluntarily and patiently submitted became the foundation of his future greatness. , The partial fondness of a mother exposed him to the unnatural unkindness and severity of an uncle; the jealousy and envy of malevolent and selfish brothers-in-law forced him back to the calm delights ofhis father's house. After twenty years' hard service under Laban, which that- ungenerous kinsman re paid with harshness, injustice, and deceit, but which God was pleased bountifully to reward by a numerous and thriving progeny and large possessions, he sets out secretly, in or der to shun the mortification which he daily endured, for the land of Canaan. He is hotly pursued, and with hostile dispositions, by his father-in-law, and overtaken, encumbered as t&ECT. XXVII.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 113 he was, on the seventh day, in Mount Gilead. Providence once more interposes in his be half, and protects him from Laban's fury. — Charged with undutifulness and disrespect, and accused ofa robbery which he would ra ther have died than commit, he defends him self with the spirit of a man, with th? dignity of conscious innocence, and the awful supe riority of truth and virtue. Those who have a taste to relish tlie modest, manly, simple, pathetic eloquence ofa good and honest heart, will, I am persuaded, find much pleasure in the perusal of Jacob's reply to Laban's accu sation. " And Jacob was wroth, and chode with Laban ; and Jacob answered and said to Laban, What is my trespass? What is my sin, that thou hast so hotly pursued after me? Whereas thou hast searched all my stuff! what hast thou found of all thy household stuff? Set it here before my brethren, and thy brethren, that they may judge betwixt us both. This twenty years have I been with thee : thy ewes and thy she-goats have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock have I not eaten. That which was torn of beasts I brought not unto thee ; I bare the loss of it ; of my hand didst thou require it, , whether stolen by day or stolen by night. Thus I was, in the day the drought consumed me, and the frost by night, and my sleep de parted from mine eyes. Thus have I been twenty years in thy house ; I served thee fourteen years for thy two daughters, and six years for thy cattle ; and thou hast changed my wages ten times. Except the God of my father, the God of Abraham, and the fear of Isaac, had been with me, surely thou hadst sent me away now empty. God hath seen mine affliction, and the labour of my hands, and rebuked thee yesternight."* The power of truth is irresistible, and even Laban, though with an ill grace, is constrained to yield to it ; and matters are at length amicably set tled to theirmutual satisfaction. To prevent as much as possible all future ground of fear and suspicion, a covenant of peace and good will is* ratified between them, with all the solemnities of a sacrifice, an oath, a monu mental pillar, and a feast of love. In the whole of which transaction, we cannot help remarking, that Laban, the party who had the wicked intention and the guilty con science, is the first to propose, and the most eager to employ the awful formalities of com pacts, and promises, and oaths. He knew that he himself needed to be thus bound, and therefore judges it necessary thus to bind the other. Laws are made for the violent and in jurious, covenants for the false and perfidi ous. The light of an upright heart is its own law, the conscience of an honest man his own faithful witness, his own tremendous judge. What is the opinion ofthe world to conscious integrity? "The conscious mind is its own * Gen. xxxi. 36—42. P awfhl world." Guilt is timorous, Jealous, and suspecting; innocence bold, believing, and generous. Laban employs the most words ; Jacob has the purer and more righteous in tention. Laban does justice, not from a regard to1 duty, but through fear of detection and punishment ; Jacob speaks and practises truth because he loves it. The form of religion is employed by Laban to perfect the security which he wanted ; Jacob scruples not to su peradd the form, where he felt the force of the obligation. Laban swears, that he might hold the other fast ; Jacob, because he fears an oath, and is willing at once to satisfy' the other and to bind himself. Laban, an ldola- tor, calls to witness the gods whom the an cestors of Abraham and Nahor served ""be yond the flood ;" Jacob, a worshipper of the living and true God, swears by " the fear of his father Isaac," the God who has power to save and to destroy. The agreement being thus solemnly rati fied, aijd the hour of separation at length come, they part with mutual satisfaction — ¦ Laban with the self-gratulation of having made a virtue of necessity; and Jacob, well pleased to have escaped so happily from a danger so threatening. Laban returns with his train to Haran, and we hear of him no more. And little does it signify what became of an old miserly knave, whose name had been better blotted out of every record, than transmitted to posterity with so many notes of infamy upon it. Jacob goes on his way rejoicing towards Canaan, beloved of God. and respected of men. He has hardly bidden his father-in-law farewell, when we find the angete of God pressing forward to meet him."* The history of these superior beings, and of their com merce with mankind, is so brief, so obscure, and so figurative, as rather to excite curiosity than to gratify it. , It serves rather to furnish matter for speculation, than to convey dis tinct fulli and exact information. By the angels of God, who are said to have met Ja cob on this occasion, some understand merely human messengers, whether deputed from among his own attendants to examine the country through which he was to travel, or some friendly strangers directed that way of Providence, to warn him of the approach of his brother Esau. But we cannot materially err by taking the words of Moses in their literal acceptation, and according to the more obvious sense which they convey. " Where fore should it be thought a thing incredible," that the same merciful God who condescend ed to visit Jacob's sleep at Bethel, with a vi sion of angels ascending and descending from Heaven to earth, to cheer and encourage his solitary progress to Haran, should vouchsafe to bless his waking thoughts^ at Mahanaim with a visit of these ministering spirits in a * Gen. xxxii. 1. 10* 114 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxvn. bodily form, to be the image and the assur ance of the divine favour and protection in every hour of danger, in every time of need? What hod that man to fear from the rage of an incensed brother, though that brother were followed by an armed host around whom " the angels of the Lord encamped" in two hosts or bands. Whether the history, in this passage, is to be understood literally or figuratively; whe ther these angels were human or supernatu ral beings; this, in either view, well deserves remark, that Jacob was not induced, in con fidence of the vision, to neglect any duty of piety or of prudence. Piety dictates the ad dress and recommendation of himself to the God of angels and of men, which we read in the opening of our discourse ; and in this he chiefly rested his safety. And prudence made such a wise arrangement of his affairs, as might either gain a brother by kindness, melt him by submission, or oppose him with suc cess. The religion which, aiming at things uncommon, miraculous, or preternatural, ne glects or despises the plain track of reason and revelation, is dangerous, and to be sus pected. It ministers too much to human vani ty; it would establish a standard, vague, va riable, and capricious as the wild imagination of man; and, making every one in matters of faith, a law unto himself, would depreciate the "sure word of prophesy," which yields a steady, uniform, and certain light, to illumi nate a dark world. The disposition ofhis company, which Ja cob made, in the view of meeting his brother either as a friend or an enemy, discovers the deepest wisdom and'penetration. Every thing that might revive the memory of their an cient grudge is artfully suppressed. . If there appear any ostentation of wealth, it is wealth devoted to the use and service of a brother. The message which was put into the mouths ofthe servants who conducted the droves of cattle, to be successively delivered to Esau, is wonderfully calculated to turn away the wrath of an angry man, "my lord Esau," " thy servant Jacob." And the present judi ciously intended to disarm and mollify him, is, with equal judgment exhibited and tendered not all at oiice, but slowly and gradually ; in sensibly to steal upon his heart, and impercep tibly to lull all his resentments asleep. He appears voluntarily paying a tribute of duty and affection as to his sovereign, not haugh tily exacting submission, and acknowledg ment as from his vassal. Fear for his own life had driven him, twenty years ago, from the face of Esau, and now that his being is, as it were, multiplied in the persons of so many, dear to him as his own soul, his appre hension increases in proportion. We cannot but observe, though we need not much wonder at, the partiality discovered m settling the order of this domestic proces sion. The beloved wife and her darling son are placed in the rear, farthest from danger, if danger there were, because first in the at tention and respect of the fond husband and father. Unhappy Jacob ! whether shall we pity or blame thee ? In this management I see the dawningsof that unwise and unfortu nate preference, which afterwards raised such a tempest in the family, and pierced through the paternal heart with so many sorrows. The thirty-second chapter of this sacred book concludes with the history of an event in Jacob's life, so very singular and myste rious, as to baffle interpretation, and defy criticism. I mean, his wrestling with a per son unknown, in the form of a man, whom he afterwards describes as God, and against whom he prevailed in the contest. If this transaction is to be understood according to the letter of the narration, the Spirit of God has seen meet to withhold the knowledge of some particulars which are necessary to a clear and distinct comprehension of it ; and the inquirer is stopt short, with the reply of the angel who wrestled, to Jacob's request, " Tell me I pray thee thy name ;" " Where fore is it that thou dost ask after my name?"* The figurative meaning, and the practical intention and application, are more obvious : and it is this indeed with which we have chiefly to do. Jacob was that very morning to meetEsau, his brother, who was advancing toward him, at the head of four hundred men. Uncertain of his disposition and in- * tentions, conscious of having given him much. cause of offence, and apprised of the mena cing and resentful language which he had formerly held concerning him, he shudders to think of the consequences of this formi dable rencounter. And, having first poured out his soul to God in such a dreadful emer gency, and then adopted the measures for safety which wisdom and the necessity ofhis situation suggested, he again, it is natural to suppose, might have recourse to earnest prayer and supplication, and continue in it during a great part of- the night and morn ing. This, in the forcible and figurative phrase of oriental language, might be ex pressed " by his wrestling" with God " to the dawning of the day ;" and is at length pre vailing so fer as to obtain from God some sensible sign or token, to assure him he should be carried tlirough this, as through his other dangers and distresses, undestroyed, unhurt. The sign given him was calculated at once to express approbation of his feith, fortitude, and perseverance ; and to convince him of his inferiority and weakness. The unknown wrestler, though seemingly foiled in the combat, by a simple touch dislocates a joint in the hollow of Jacob's thigh, and thereby disables him from continuing the struggle. Might not the wisdom of God be * Gen. xxxii, 29. LKCT. xxvii.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 115 employing such mystical representation and expression to instruct men in the nature of prayer, and to enforce the obligation of it ? " To the end that we should pray always and not feint" Do we prevail in our applications at the throne of grace ? It is because our heavenly Father is disposed to yield, and stands out only to heighten our exertions, and coll forth our importunity. Have we " power with God, and prevail ?" Then " what is man who shall die, and the son of man who is a worm ?" Did Jacob sink and fail in the very moment of victory ? We are just what God mokes or permits us to be. Whatever were the real circumstances of this extraordinitry scene, it procured Jacob a new and an honourable name, which obliter ated to his posterity, if not altogether to him self) that less honourable appellation which commemorated a little, though significant incident attending his birth, and which re corded the infamy of his unfair dealings with his father and brother ; Jacob, the supplanter, is transformed into Israel, a prince with God. The vision of the Almighty is scarcely at an end, when the interview with Esau takes place. And we are then fittest for every service, for every trial, when we have settled matters with Heaven. He who by a touch disjointed Jacob's thigh, could by a word have scattered Esau's host But behold a greater miracle ! By a simple act of his sovereign will, he has in a moment changed Esau's heart They meet they converse, they love, as brothers ought to do. And " O how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity !" We apprehend a strife of fierce and angry looks, of reproach ful words, of violence and blood. But how joyful the disappointment ! Behold a conten tion of kindness, a blessed contest of affec tion; the honest, heart-melting triumph of nature, the noble victory of goodness. Let the proud and the resentful peruse, with care, this inimitable scene of tenderness, painted in colours so bright and so touching by the pencil of inspiration,* and say, whether it be possible for any gratification of revenge, any depression of a hated rival, any triumph of violence and blood, to yield any thing, that deserves the name of joy, compared with the sweet satisfaction which must have filled the bosoms of this pair of brothers, burying ani mosity and discord in mutual endearments, and expressions of good will. Ah, why should so many wretched brothers as there are of us, pass through a world in which there is so much unavoidable misery, es tranged from one another ; or madly, wan tonly, wickedly interrupt and disturb each other's passage, bv bitterness and wrath! What wretched things are wealth, and pomp, and state, and power, which will not permit * Gen. xxxiii. 4—15. brothers to live together in love as they might, and as, but for one or other of these disturbers of human quiet they would do ! Such scenes as that which now passed be tween Jacob and Esau ought to have been perpetual. But alas, it cannot be ! Esau must return to his possession in Mount Seir that very day ; and Jacob pursue his journey to Canaan. The paternal roof must no more cover their heads again at one time, nor the affectionate parents enjoy the supreme feli city of witnessing their reconciliation, and of strengthening it by their blessing and their prayers. Let the lower ranks of man kind rejoice, that a gracious Providence, in withholding from them affluence, and station, and distinction, has left them a blessing greater than all put together, friendship, and the means of exercising and enjoying it Parents, as ye love your children, and wish to haye them near you, and to bless you with a sight of their health and prosperity, be mo derate in your views and efforts concerning them. Prospects of ambition, or of avarice, will of necessity banish them' from your sight, will separate them from each other, will scatter them upon the face of the earth. Jacob, by slow movements, as the delicate condition of part of his retinue required, ad vances homewards in a south-west direction from the ford of Penuel, on the south bank of the Jabbok, towards Jordan ; and arrived safe at the ford of Succoth. So called from the booths which he erected there, for a tem porary repose to himself and family, in the plains of Jordan, about twelve or fifteen miles from Penuel ; ten miles south of the sea of Galilee ; and five south ofthe Jabbok, where it runs into Jordan : a city afterwards assigned by lot to the tribe of Gad. After resting at Succoth about a month, he pro ceeds to travel from Jordan west and by south about thirty-five miles, and arrives in peace and safety, according to the promise and covenant of the God of Bethel, which was ratified more than twenty years before, at Shechem, the city of Hamor, the Hivite ; of whom he bought a field, in the same place where Abraham first pitched his tent upon coming into Canaan. And there Jacob erect ed an altar, and dedicated it by the name of El-Elohe-Israel, God, the God of Israel. Now this event happened in the year of the world two thousand two hundred and sixty- six; before Christ, one thousand seven hun dred and thirty-eight ; after the flood, six hundred and ten ; from the peregrination of Abraham, one hundred and eighty-three ; before Jacob's descent into Egypt, thirty- two; before the going out ofthe children of Israel from Egypt, two hundred and forty- seven ; and in the year of Jacob's life, nine ty-eight ; Isaac, his aged father, living then at Beer-sheba, one hundred and fifty-seven years old. And this naturally furnishes ano- 116 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxvnr. ther resting place in the history of our pa triarch. The next Lecture, if God permit, will resume the subject, and carry it forward to a conclusion. We detain you only for a mo ment or two, to suggest a few thoughts on the analogy of Jacob and Christ from this portion ofthe Scripture history. How beau tifully and how exactly does the account which Jacob gives of himself as a shepherd correspond to the character of the "good shepherd who giveth his life for the sheep !" " This twenty years have I been with thee : thy ewes and thy she-goats have not cast their young, and the rams of thy flock have I not eaten. That which was torn of beasts, I brought not unto thee : I bare the loss of it. Of my hand didst thou require it, whe ther stolen by day, or stolen by night. Thus I was, in the day the drought consumed me, and the frost by night, and my steep depart ed from mine eyes."* "And he said unto him, my lord knoweth that the children are tender, and the flocks and herds with young are with me: and if men should over-drive them one day, all the flock will die. Let my lord, I pray thee, pass over before his ser vant ; and I will lead on softly, according as the cattle that goetll before me, and the chil dren be able to endure ; until I come unto my lord unto Seir."f "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd : he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young."| Angels, thus ministering to the * Gen. xxxii. 38—10. t Gen. xxxiii. 13, 14. X Isa. xi. 11. heir ofthe promise, at Bethel, at Mahanaim, lead our thoughts directly to the annuncia tion, the nativity, the temptation in the wil derness, the agony in the garden, the resur rection, the ascension, the second coming of our blessed Lord. The wrestling at Peniel, is a strong figurative description of the pow erful and prevalent intercession ofthe Prince with God, Messiah himself, whose language is not " Father, I beseech thee," but " Father, I will." Jacob's safe and happy return to Ca naan, and to his father's house, every enemy being subdued either by fear or by love, ac companied with two bands of sons and daugh ters, wherewith God had enriched him in the land where he was a stranger, and where he had been humbled, and oppressed, — prefi gures, as has been suggested in a former dis course, the triumphant return of the great Captain of salvation, to his father's house above, loaded with the spoils of principalities and powers : the power of hell vanquished by force, an elect world redeemed and res cued by love. " His right hand and his holy arm had gotten him the victory ;" " he shall reign tilL he hath put all enemies, under his feet," "sing praises to his name, sing praise." " Thou hast ascended on high, thou hast led captivity captive, thou hast received gifts for men: yea, for the rebellious also, that the Lord God might dwell among them."* " Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father : to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever."f Amen. * Psalm lxviii. a t Rev. i. 5, 6. HISTORY OF JACOB. LECTURE XXVIII. And Jacob their father said unto them, Me have ye bereaved of my children ; Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away : all these things are against me. And Reuben spake unto his father, saying, Slay my two sons, if I bring him not to thee : deUver him into my hand, and I will bring him to thee again. And he said, My son shall not go down with you ; for his brother is dead, and he is left alone : if mischief befal him by the way in the which ye go, then shall ye bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave Genesis xiii. 36 — 38. It is a pleasing and an useful employment to trace important events up to their sources; to mark the gradual progress of human af fairs ; to observe the same persons at differ- .ent periods of their existence, and in differ ent situations ; to discover on what delicate hinges their fortunes have turned; and to contemplate the wisdom, power, and good ness of Divine Providence, in producing the greatest effects from the slightest and most unlikely causes. There is no greater error in conduct than to reckon certain actions re lating to morals, trifling and insignificant When revolutions in private families, and in empires, are pursued up to the springs from whence they flow, they are often found to commence in some little error, inadvertency, or folly, which, at the time, might have been despised or neglected. Just as mighty rivers begin their course in s6me paltry, obscure LECT. XXVIII.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 117 stream, which tlie peasant could dry up with the sole of his foot The past is infinitely less perspicuous to the eye of human under standing, than tlie future is to divine intelli gence. God " seeth the end from the begin ning, saying, My counsel shall stand, and I will fulfil all my pleasure." The periods which make the most brilliant figure in the page of history, were periods of, anxiety and trouble to the men and the nations who then figured on the scene. A life of many inci dents is a life of much distress. When the writer has got a great deal to relate, tlie per son whose life is recorded has had a great deal to suffer. Much more is written of Jacob than of any other ofthe patriarchs. Alas ! it is only say ing that his miseries were much more nu merous and severe. In a life shorter than his father's by thirty-three years, calamity so crowded upon calamity, that it seems extend ed to the utmost stretch of even antediluvian longevity. What hour ofhis mature age is free from pain and sorrow? Not one! In what region does he find repose ? No where. Canaan, Haran, Egypt are to him almost equally inclement As a son, a servant, an husband, a father ; in youth, in manhood, in old age ; he is unremittingly afflicted. And no sooner is one difficulty surmounted, one wo past than another and a greater over takes him. Formerly he had youthful blood and spirits to encounter and to endure the ills of life. Hope still cheered the heart, and scattered tne cloud. But now, behold the hoary head sinking with sorrow to the grave ; the spirit oppressed, overwhelmed, with a sea of trouble. Keen recollection summons up the ghosts of former afflictions, and post joys recur only to remind him that they are gone for ever; and black despair obscures, excludes the prospect of good to come. What heart is not wrung, at hearing a poor old man closing the bitter recapitulation of his misfortunes, in the words I have read, " All, all these thmgs are against me ?" Perhaps the life of no other man affords a like instance of accumulated distress. The mournful detail of this evening will present, collected within the compass of not many months, a series of the heaviest afflictions that ever man endured ; and all springing up out of objects, in which the heart naturally seeks and expects to find delight. An only daughter dishonoured — his eldest hope stain ed with incest — Simeon and Levi polluted with innocent blood — Judah joined in mar riage to a woman of Canaan, and a father by his own daughter-in-law — Joseph torn in pieces by wild beasts — his beloved Rachel lost in childbirth — his venerable father re moved from him in the course of nature — the miserable wreck and remains ofhis fami ly ready to perish with famine— Simeon' a prisoner in Egypt, — and Benjamin, the only remaining pledge of his Rachel's love, de manded and forced to be given up. What sorrow was ever like this sorrow ? " This is the man who hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath." And does all a partial mother's fondness ; do all a father's blessings, wishes, and prayers ; do all the promises and predic tions of Heaven issue in this ? " If in this life only there were hope," who so miserable as God's dearest children ? Whose lot is so much to be deplored as that of the son of Isaac ? Jacob, after an absence of more than twen ty years, has returned to the land of his na tivity. A guardian Providence has protected and delivered him from his avowed enemies, from Laban, and from Esau: but the most dangerous enemies of his repose are still nearer to him, they " are those of his own house." He has purchased an estate, he has spread his tent, he has erected his altar; "his mountain stands strong," what can move him? From what slight beginnings, do great events arise ! Dinah the daughter of Jacob, prompted by female vanity, curiosi ty, or som.e other motive equally deserving blame, ventures, unattended, beyond the verge of the paternal superintendence and protection, and fells into danger and 'shame. She went out, says the scripture, "to see the daughters ofthe land." Josephus affirms, that she was attracted by the celebration of a great public festival, according to the man ners of the country. Her youth, innocence, and inexperience inspire confidence ; novelty awakens curiosity ; beauty tempts, opportu nity favours, and virtue is lost. From the first transgression, down to this day, female disgrace and ruin have begun in the gratifi cation of an immoderate desire to see, and to know, some new thing ; from an inclination to exhibit themselves, and to observe others. One daughter of Israel is much more likely to be corrupted by communication with many daughters of Canaan than they are to be im proved by the conversation of that one. There is much wisdom, my fair friends, in keeping far, very far within your bounds. There is danger, great danger, in advancing to the utmost limit of liberty and virtue. For, the extreme boundary of virtue is also the ex treme boundary of vice ; and she who goes every length she lawfully may, is but half a step from going farther than she ought, or perhaps than she intended. Desire is commonly extinguished by gra tification; but it is also sometimes inflamed by it. And so it was with Shechem. The first disorder of his passion and its effects, are not more to his shame, than the repara tion which he intended and attempted, is to his honour. Indeed, if we except the leading step in this transaction, the whole proceed ing on the part of the young prince is noble and generous to a high degree ; and loudly 118 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxvm. reproves and strikingly exposes the cool, the cruel, remorseless seducers ofa Christian age, and ofa civilized country. The unhappy father receives the news of his daughter's dishonour with silent sorrow. And how often does he wish in the sequel, that he hod forever buried his grief in his own heart? Hamor readily adopts the views of his son, disdains not the alliance of a shep herd, courts Dinah, though humbled, with all the respect due to a princess, and all the munificence becoming one who was himself a sovereign. Those who are fathers, who have daughters for whom they feel, or for whom they fear, will judge of Jacob's satis faction a.t this proposal. Td have the wound which had been made in the fond paternal heart, instantly closed up; the stain cast upon his name, wiped clean away ; his dar ling child's peace and reputation restored; an honourable alliance formed with a weal thy, virtuous,, and generous prince ; a whole people proselyted from idols to the God of Israel. How many sources of exquisite sa tisfaction! Is the black cloud over Jacob's head going for once to descend in refreshing drops, is it going for once to burst and dis perse itself into calmness and serenity ? Alas, alas ! the tempest is only gathering thicker around him ; and dreadful must the discharge of it be. I shudder as I proceed. Simeon and Levi, two brothers german of Dinah, and who, on that account, tlfink them selves peculiarly concerned in« the vindica tion of their sister's honour, affect to receive Shechem's overtures with complacency. — They have no scruples but what arise from religion. Let these be removed, and the way is cleared at once. Deep, designing, dissembling villains ! The ordinance of God is in their mouths, the malice of the devil lies brooding in their hearts. They recom mend a sacrament, and they are preparing a sacrifice, a horrid human sacrifice, of many victims. There is not a more singular fact in all history, than the ready compliance of the whole inhabitants of Shechem with the pro posal of changing their religion, and of re ceiving, at so late a period in life, the pain ful sign of circumcision. ' Great must have been the authority which Hamor had over them, or great the affection which they bore him. Unhappy man! he practised a little deceit in stating the case to his people, but was himself much more grossly deceived. And I greatly question whether he had pre vailed, had not the temptation of Jacob's cat tle and other substance, been held out as a motive to obtain their consent. Comply how ever they did-1— and it proved fatal to them. For on the third day, the two sons of Jacob already mentioned attended probably by a band of their friends and servants, rushed upon them and put Jhem all to the sword. "Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce; and their wrath, for it was cruel ; I will di vide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Is rael."* We no where meet with an mstance of more savage, indiscriminating barbarity. For the offence of one, a whole nation is mercilessly cut off, and rapine closes the scene of blood. For they plundered the city, and carried off the wretched women captive whose husbands they had murdered. Horrid, infernal passion ! And how was Dinah's honour repaired by this ? And these simple, easy, believing men, these harmless, unof fending women, what had they done? Daughters of Canaan, dearly have ye bought the favour of a visit from Jacob's daughter. Idle and unhallowed was the opening of the scene, and dreadful has the conclusion been. I should not have been surprised to hear of a confederacy among all the neighbouring states, to exterminate such a band of robbers and murderers from the face of the earth. Jacob is justly alarmed with the apprehen sion of this, and, warned of God, removes from the neighbourhood of Shechem to Beth el ; a spot that brought to his recollection, calmer, happier days — when he was flying indeed from his country, without wealth, without a friend ; but free also from the anx iety, vexation, and care, which an increased family and abounding wealth have brought upon him. How much better is it to go child less, than have children to be the grief and plague ofa man's heart? Being arrived at Bethel, where he had been blessed with the visions of the Almighty on his way to Padan-aram, he deems it a proper time and place to purge his family of every vestige of idolatry. It is no easy mat ter to live in an idolatrous, or irreligious country, without losing a sense of religion, or acquiring a wrong one. This is one of the great evils which attend travelling into distant lands. Our young men who reside long abroad, whatever else they bring back to their native country, generally drop by the way the pious principles which were in stilled into them in their youth. Some very nearly related to Jacob, I am afraid, had a violent hankering after the gods beyond the flood. Why else did Rachel steal away the images which were her father's? However that may be, Jacob now disposes of them in a proper manner, and buries every shred that could minister to idolatry, under the oak that was by Shechem. The conduct of Jacob's sons had, of necessity, awakened a hostile spirit in the country against him, which, had it not been providentially restrained, must have proved fatal to him. But " the terror of God was upon the cities that were round about them, and they did not pursue after the sons of Jacob."f About this time, a breach was made in the * Gen. xlix. 7. \ Gen. xxxv. 5. 1ECT. XXVIII.] HISTORY OF JACOB. 119 family by the death of Deborah, Rebekah's nurse ; the threatening and fore-runner of a much heavier stroke. For, just after they had left Bethel, as he was on his way finally to join his father with all his family, with a heart exulting, no doubt in the prospect of presenting to his venerable parents the wives and children which God had given him ; Rachel, his much-loved Rachel, is suddenly taken in labour by the way side, and dies, after bearing another son. Unhappy woman ! She falls a victim to what she had coveted so earnestly. " Give me children else I die," in her haste, in the bitterness of her heart, she exclaimed. She obtains her wish, and it proves fetal to her. God, a righteous God, gives her children, and she dies. Resentment at her vehemence and impatience is lost in sorrow for her loss. The history does not expand itself here, but simply relates the fact Some causes are injured, not assisted, by a multiplicity of words. The feelings ofthe patriarch on this occasion are rather to be conceived than de scribed. Rachel early, constantly, tenderly loved; earned with long and severe servi tude ; endeared by knowledge and habit and rendered more important and valuable by fruitfulness, could not be lost without pain. It was natural for the dying mother to thmk of perpetuating the memory of her mortal anjuish, by giving the son whom she brought into life at the expense of her own, the name of Ben-ohi, " the son of my sorrow." It was wise and pious in the surviving father, to preserve rather the memory of the benefit received, than of the loss sustained ; and by the name of Benjamin, "the son of my right hand," to mark and record submission to, and trust in Providence, rather than seek to per petuate his grief, by retaining the maternal appellation, which seemed to murmur at and to reflect upon the dispensations of the Al mighty. Dying in childbirth, it was found necessary to bury her with greater expedi tion than the removal of the corpse to the cave of Machpelah permitted ; though there -the precious dust of Sarah and of Abraham re- pdsed. And, as it is happily ordered by na ture, Jacob amuses, soothes, and spends his grief, which might otherwise have oppressed and spent him, in erecting a monument to Rachel's memory. Thus, what the heart in the first paroxysms of its anguish, intends as the means of rendering grief lasting or continual, gradually, imperceptibly, and most graciously extinguishes it altogether. While this wound was still bleeding, the patriarch's heart is pierced through with an other stroke, if not so acute, perhaps more overwhelming. Reuben, his eldest hope, raised and distinguished by Providence, placed in the foremost rank among many brethren, degrades and dishonours himself by the com mission of a crime which modesty blushes to think ofi and "such as is not so much as named among the Gentiles ;" a crime which blended the guilt and shame of another with his own ; which could not make the usual apologies of surprise, temptation, or passion for itself. But let us hasten from it. We can sit and weep awhile upon the grave of Rachel; but from the incestuous couch of Reuben, imagination flies away with horror and disgust What a, dreadfully licentious, irregular, and disorderly family, is the family of pious Jacob ! Each of his sons is worse and more wicked than another. Accursed Laban, I see thy infernal avarice at the bot tom of all this disorder and wickedness ! It was that which first introduced a multiplicity of wives into Jacob's bosom. It was that which created and kept up jarring interests in his family; and gave birth to those unhallowed, disgraceful, head-strong passions, which dis turbed his peace, pierced his heart, and dis honoured his name. An affliction more in the order of nature, and whose certain and gradual approach must have prepared the heart to meet it, at length overtakes him. After an absence of more than twenty years, he rejoins his aged father, now in his one hundred and sixty- third year, at Arbah, afterwards called He bron, "the city where Abraham and Isaac so journed." It does not appear whether Rebe kah yet lived, or not. If she did, what must have been her feelings at embracing her long-lost, darling son ; and at finding him so abundantly increased in children and in wealth ? Pure and perfect is the delight of a grandmother, as she caresses the young ones of a beloved child, the heirs and repre sentatives of the husband of her youth, the supporters ofhis name, prospects, and dignity. In presenting his family to his father, Jacob must have been agitated by various and mixed emotions. It was natural for the old man to inquire minutely into the events of his son's life, during the tedious years of their separa tion; into the character and qualities of his grandchildren ; into the state of Jacob's world ly circumstances ; much more, into the state ofhis mind as a believer, and the heir ofthe promise. The answer to these parental in quiries must of necessity have awaked in the bosom ofthe wretched sufferer ten thousand melancholy and painful sensations ; and torn open afresh those wounds which the lenient hand of time had begun to close up. The hardships endured in Padan-aram ; the seve rity, churlishness, and deceit of Laban, would rise again to view. And almost every child, as he presented them one by one to his sire, must have suggested some mortifying and distressful circumstance to wring his heart Dinah, not in the bloom and dignity of virgin innocence, but humbled and dishonoured, robbed of that which makes youth lovely, and age respected— Simeon and Levi, her 120 HISTORY OF JACOB. [lect. xxrni. brothers, polluted with innocent bkjod, and Reuben, his " first-born, his might, and the beginning of his strength, the excellency of dignity, and the excellency of power," stain ed with incest— Judah, his fourth son, who had begun to build up a family of his own, but it was by a Canaanitish woman,* whose pro geny involved him in complicated guilt and covered him with shame — Joseph and Benja min, fair as the opening blossoms ofthe ver nal rose, and precious as the purple fluid which visited his sad heart — But alas ! the highly valued stock which had shot forth these two lovely branches, is prematurely cut down and withered. His beloved Rachel is no more ; and he is deprived of even the poor consolation of reflecting, that her sacred dust slept in the same tomb with that ofhis ve nerable ancestors. But to have the privilege of pouring his sorrows into the bosom ofa father, was the alleviation if not the cure of them. And he, who by meditation, and faith, and prayer, had overcome the world, and lived so long in heaven, was well qualified for admi nistering the vivifying cordial to the fainting soul, to apply the sovereign balm to the ach ing-heart of a. son, who had been a still greater sufferer than himself. But the calamities of neither the father nor the son are as yet come to a period ; and they have still to interchange sorrows for a loss more bitter and oppressive than any which they have yet endured. For, in little more than six years from their re-union; while Isaac, now one hundred and seventy years old, was patiently looking for his dis mission from this scene of trouble, and pre paring to enter the harbour of eternal rest — he is driven back upon the tempestuous ocean, and doomed to toil and grieve ten years more of a weary life, deploring an affliction which admitted of no consolation, and which at length brought his white head with sor row to the grave. At this period it was, that Joseph, beautiful and young, Joseph, the de light of God and man, Joseph, the memorial of Rachel, the pride of Jacob, the prop of Isaac's old age, disappeared, and was heard of no more, till many years after his venera ble grandsire slept in the dust. Jacob, sinking himself into the dust, under the pressure of a burthen which nature was unable to sustain, is at length called to per form the last sad office of filial affection, and to lay his hand upon the already extinguish ed orbs of his honoured father; willing, and longing, I am persuaded, to have descended with him into the grave. But not the least eventful part of his history is yet to come. It will henceforward be blended with that of Joseph, which now solicits our attention. O could we but bring to the study and display of it, a small portion of that native simplicity, that divine eloquence, that celestial energy, * Gen. xxxviii. 2. 18. 34, 25, 26. which glow and shine upon tlie page of in spiration 1 with what delight and success should we then speak, and with what pleasure and profit should ye then tend a listening ear ! The story of Jacob, as it proceeds, teaches many useful lessons for the conduct of life ; and opens many sources of religious instruc tion. Who would not rather be honest, un suspecting, believing Jacob, than dark, de signing, selfish Laban ? And yet, who does not see the necessity of blending the wisdom ofthe serpent, with the harmlessness of the dove? We mourn to think on the preva lence of those fiery and ungovernable pas sions which separate, and scatter, and alien ate those whom God and nature designed to live together, and to love one another ; and which robs human life of many instances of felicity which might have been in it. Why should Isaac and Jacob have lived twenty years asunder, to their mutual discomfort and distress? The vile spirit of this evil world arose ; the spirit of pride, emulation, ambition, avarice, fear, revenge, drove Jacob into a miserable exile ; and left his father a forlorn, forsaken, anxious blind old man. Happy that poverty, which permits the parent and his child to cherish each other, till the cold hand of death chill the heart. Happy the obscurity which excludes envy ; and forces not a man to be an enemy to'his own brother ! We have seen in the patriarch, a man like ourselves, " bruised and put to grief;" the image of " one greater man," " a man of sor rows and acquainted with grief," whose woes commenced in the manger, and ceased not till they were lulled to rest in the tomb. " The Son of Man" who "came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." " The heir of all things" who emptied himself, and voluntarily assumed "the form of a servant." " And they gave unto Jacob all the strange gods which were in their hand, and all their ear-rings which were in their ears ; and Ja cob hid them under the oak which was by Shechem."* " And Jesus went up to Jeru salem, and found in the temple those that sold oxen, and sheep, and doves, and the changers of money, sitting. And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen, and poured out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables : and said unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence, make not my Father's house an house of merchandise."f Jacob presented to his father a numerous and thriving offspring; but many of them children perverse and cor rupted, their father's shame and sorrow. But when our spiritual Head shall present his redeemed to " his Father and our Father, to his God and our God," saying, " Here am I, * Gen. xxxv. 4. • f John ii. 13—16. LECT. xxix.] HISTORY" OF JACOB AND JOSEPH. 121 and the children thou hast given* me," tlie parental eye shall discern in them " neither spot, nor wrinkle, nor any such thing." Our Father in Heaven ever lives, " exalted that he may show meroy;" our "Redeemer liveth," " ho is risen again, he is even at the right hand of God, he also maketh" interces sion for us." HISTORY OF JACOB AND JOSEPH. LECTURE XXIX. Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age : and he made him a coat of many colours. And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all hia brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him. — Genesis xxxvii. 3, 4. The history of mankind exhibits an un ceasing contention between the folly and wickedness of man, and the wisdom and goodness of God. Men are continually striv ing to outdo, to mortify, and to hurt one another ; but a gracious Providence^ by op posing spirit to spirit interest to interest, force to force, preserves the balance, and supports the fabric. His sovereign power and matchless skill, produce exquisite har mony from the confused, the contending, discordant tones of human passions. He controls and subdues a diversity, which threatened disorder, separation, and destruc tion, into a variety which pleases, which unites, which cements and preserves man kind. And a more consolatory, a more com posing, a more satisfying view of the divine Providence we cannot indulge ourselves in, than this merciful superintendence which it condescends to take of the affairs of men, and of every thing that affects their virtue or their happiness. The disorders which prevail in the natural world, under the sub duing hand of heaven, range themselves into order and peace. The convulsions which shake and disturb the moral world, directed, checked, and counterbalanced by a power much mightier than themselves, subside into tranquillity, through the very agitation and violence they had acquired. "Surely, O Lord, the wrath of man shall praise thee, and the remainder of wrath thou shalt re strain." When the tumult is over, and the noise ceases, religion rears up her head, and says, in the words of Joseph to his brethren, " but as for you, ye thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive."* We are now come to a passage of the sacred history of uncommon beauty and im portance. Whether we consider the sim plicity and grace ofthe narration, the affect ing circumstances of the story, the interest ing and instructive views ofthe human heart which it unfolds, the many plain and useful * Gen. I. 20. Q lessons which it teaches; or the mighty consequences, both near and remote, which resulted to the family of Jacob, to the Egyp tian monarchy, and to the human race, from incidents, at first insignificant and seeming ly contemptible, but gradually swelling into magnitude, embracing circle after circle, extending from period to period, till at length all time and space are occupied by them. Isaac was now as good as dead ; calmly looking forward to his latter end ; alive only to sentiments of piety and of pain. And Jacob was, through much difficulty and dis tress, at last settled in the land wherein his father was a stranger ; increased in wealth, rich in children, rich in piety, but advanced in years, and loaded with affliction. Jacob's family, the salt of the earth, was itself in a very putrid , and corrupted state ; and the heads of the twelve tribes of Israel were themselves very bad> men. The unhappy father endeavours to soothe the anguish arising from the ill behaviour of his grown up sons, by the pleasing prospects which the more amiable qualities of his younger chil dren opened to him. The sacred historian introduces to us the favourite character of Joseph with wonder ful art and skill. From the very first mo ment we become interested in him. He is the long expected son of beauteous Rachel — his mother was dead — he had now attain ed his seventeenth year — and he was the darling object of his father's affection. Ja cob's affection, however, has not blinded him so far, as to bring up even his favourite in idleness. Little does that man consult either the credit or the comfort of his son, who breeds him to no useful employment : for in dolence is the nurse of vice, the parent of shame, the source of misery. Unfortunately for him, however, Joseph is associated in em ployment with persons whose conversation was not likely to improves 'his morals, and whose dispositions toward^ him did not pro-( raise much to promote his happiness ; " the? lad was with the sons of BTdhah, and with the 11 "" 122 HISTORY OF JACOB AND JOSEPH. [lect. xxix. sons of Zilpah, his father's wives ;" who, alas ! seem to have inherited much more of the spirit of the bondwoman who was their mother, than the freeman who was their fa ther. What were the particulars of their ill conduct we are not told : but Joseph ob served it, was grieved and offended, and re ported it to his father. Jacob is not wholly irreprehensible in this. It was imprudent to trust a well-inclined young man, at that delicately dangerous sea son of life, far, or long out of his sight, and m such company. It was wrong to en courage in Joseph a spirit of censoriousness and self-conceit. It was madness to add fuel to those resentments, which his ill-dis guised partiality to this son of his old age had already kindled in the breasts of his other children. But his understanding seems quite blinded by love for the boy ; and he proceeds from weakness to weakness. As if he had not raised up enemies enough to him, by countenancing in him the odious character of tale-bearer, he goes on to ex pose him to the hatred of all the family, by dressing up his darling in " a coat of many colours." What a foundation of mischief was here laid ! The brothers must have been much less inflammable than they were well known to be, not to have taken fire at this indiscreet, this ridiculous distinction. And Joseph him self must have possessed a mind much more firm and more enlightened than seventeen generally discovers, not to have felt at least some transient emotions of vanity, insolence, and self-sufficiency, in being thus favoured above the rest. The father was therefore injurious to all, but most to himself His house is now in flames, and he himself has fired the train. Parents, as ye love your re pose, as you value your children, as you would have them dwell together in unity, as ye would not put a dagger into a brother's hand to shed a brother's blood, guard your selves well against partial affections : or if unhappily you have conceived them, conceal ft from every eye, let not the favourite see it let not his, rival suspect it. Let reason, let religion, let that very partiality itself teach you to be wise and just. Parents, as ye prize the understanding, the virtue, the true dignity of your children, let them never be taught to thmk that dress confers conse quence, that finery implies worth, that the body deserves more attention than the mind. Let not even your daughters be led, through your silly vanity, to believe that any part of their excellence consists in the splendour of their appearance. But still inculcate upon them, that ataind stored with virtues', with modesty, meeljpsss, gentleness, patience, humility, is, botHto God and man, a sight infinitely more pleasing than the mpstbeauti- ftrlsperson adorned with jewels and lace, if these or any of these be wanting. Let them know early, and hear frequently, that cleanli ness and decency are virtues which they ought to acquire and to practise : but that a curiously ornamented body is, to a discern ing eye, nothing but the indication, and the wretched, tawdry covering of a naked soul. I think I see the ill effect of Jacob's fond ness on Joseph himself. What could have suggested those dreams ofhis own superiori ty, the recital of which was so offensive to his brothers, and which drew from his father himself check and reproof? Nothing but the petulancy ofhis waking thoughts buoyed up by confidence in paternal preference and favour, It will be said, that they were inti mations from above, of his future greatness and eminence. It is readily admitted. But of what stuff does the foreknowledge and power of God frame prognostics and predic tions? Sometimes, perhaps often, of the violent propensities and desires of men's minds. And many events seem to have been predicted, not because they are to come to pass, but they come to pass because they have been predicted. The dreams themselves are the natural working of a young mind, inflated by indulgence. The repetition of them, where they were sure to occasion disgust, marks a simplicity, an innocence, a boyish thoughtlessness and indiscretion, which it were cruel severely to censure, but which wisdom can by no means approve. And, the whole taken together, the prognostic with the realization, the cause with the effect, the prophesy with the event, form a wonderful and instructive contrast of the weakness of man, and the power of God ; the meanness ofthe materials, and the magnificence of the fabric ; the feebleness of the instrument, and the force of the hand which employed it. Though Jacob was not altogether pleased with the spirit which these dreams and the rehearsal of them discovered, yet they had a very different effect upon him and upon his sons. They envied and hated him the more; he "observed the saying." Whether from a father's partial fondness, or instructed by that Spirit, who afterwards disclosed fu turity to him, down to the gathering of the people to Shiloh, he considered the doubling of the vision, and its coinciding purport, as portending something great and good to his beloved child ; and he sits down patiently to wait the issue. And we shall presently find it was hastening towards its conclusion in a course much more rapid, and by means much more extraordinary than any which he could possibly apprehend. By this time the power of Jacob's family was grown so great, or the terror inspired by the cruel murder of the Shechemites was so far effaced, that his ten eldest sons adven ture into the neighbourhood of that city to feed their flocks. The distance from Beer- LECT. XXIX,] HISTORY OF JACOB AND JOSEPH. 123 shba, where Jacob dwelt, being considera ble ; their absence being extended to a length of time that created anxiety, and though their apprehensions might a solicitous father's anxiety not being quite laid to rest he thinks proper to send Joseph from Hebron, to inquire after their welfare, and to bring him word again. Unhappy father and son ! little did they think tlie parting of that day was to be for such a length of duration. Blind that we are to futurity ! We " cannot tell what a day may bring forth." The last meeting, the last parting ; the last coming in and going out ; the last time of speaking and of hear ing ; the lost of every thing must soon over take us all. Joseph accordingly leaves his father's house, never, never to return to it more, and goes forth in quest ofhis brethren. Our tender affections are now strongly ex cited for the hapless youth. A lad of seven teen, who had never till now been from be neath the protection of paternal care and tenderness; whose fece "the wind of Hea ven" had never hitherto " visited too rough ly ;" whose spirit mortification had never galled, whose heart affliction had never yet pierced ; thrown at once into the wide world, missing his way in an unknown country, ex posed to savage beasts, or more savage men ; craning at length, to the place of his destina tion, but disappointed of finding what he looked for there ; and finally falling into the hands of butchers, where he expected bro thers. If ever there were an object of com passion, it is now before us. I observe his young heart flutter with joy, when, after all his wanderings and anxieties, he descries his brothers, and their tentg, and their flocks afar off I see the tear of tenderness rush to his eyes, while he delivers his father's greeting, and tells the tale of his youthful sorrows and mistakes upon tbe rood. I see his blooming countenance flushed with delight and satis faction, at the thought of being again among friends, of having once more a protector. Ah cruel, cruel disappointment! They have been plotting hfsruin, they have devoted bim to death. He comes to thewi with words of peace, with kind and affectionate inqtoiries after their health and prosperity. They meet him with looks of aversion, with words of contempt and hatred, with thoughts of blood. The history of Jacob's family exhibits a' shocking view of manners and of society at that periodl Thiey digest and execute a plafl of munter, with as much coolness as we would au improvement in agriculture, or an adventure m* trade. It is no wonder the poor Sltediemites found no pity at their hands; wheffl tfrey are sw lost to the feelings of na ture, humanity, and fi'lM duty, as to deliber ate' and determine, without ceremony or re morse, upon1 their own brother's- death. T he trifling incident of the. dreams lies1 ranfcliifflig ia their bosoms, " Behold," say they, » thfe dreamer cometh.'' Well has our blessed Lord cautioned his disciples against the use of contemptuous expressions one to another i For however slight and insignificant a hard or ridiculoys name at first sight may appear* it proceeds from an unkind heart, and par takes of the nature of murder. It is no uncommon thing for men who have quite got over every scruple of conscience, and all sense of duty, Still to retain some re gard to decency ; and to respect opinion and appearances after the heart is become per fectly callous. Though they can remorse lessly resolve on shedding blood, they have not confidence en6Ugh to avow their violence and barbarity, but craft and falsehood must be called in, to cover their villany from the eye of the World. " Come, now, therefore, and let us slay him ; and Cast him into some pit and we will say, some evil beast hath devoured him : and we shall see what will become ofhis dreams."* That there should have been one of the ten capable of con ceiving and suggesting, such a deed of horj ror, had been wonderful ; but that only ofle of ten should rise up to intercede for the un happy victim, exceeds all belief. We almost lose the remembrance of Reuben's filthiness, in his good-natured attempt to save his bro« ther. If there were something of deceit iri the proposal which he made to the rest for this purpose, it was on the side of virtue, and calls at least for pardon, if not for commendation, Joseph Was now at hand. And O how' dif ferent his reception from what he fondly exj pected ! " They stript Joseph out of his eoat, his coat of many colours that was Ori ¦him. And they took him* and cast him into a pit : and the pit was1 empty, there was no water in iff With truth has the wise man said, " the tender mercies ofthe wicked are cruel." The demons of envy and revenge have taken possession of their hearts. In vain he weeps, in vaia he prays, in vain employs the tender names of father and brother, ta win their pity. The' coat, the odious- coat, th© badge' of a partial father's fondness, steels their breasts. Tb