V*« Co&hl&^\ \Vjwv25" The Fall of David; SERMON PREACHED AT ALL-SAINTS' CHAPEL, BATH, On Sunday the 4th of March 1810, BY THE REV. LUCIUS COGHLAN, D. D. UPON II. Samuel, Ch. xi. v. 1. " And it came to pass, after the year was expired, at the time when Kings go forth to battle, that David sent Joab and his servants with him, and all Israel : and they de stroyed the Children of Ammon, and besieged Rabbah : but David tarried still at Jerusalem." The Tendency of this Sermon having been industriously mtsreported, the Author has been advised to offer it to the perusal of a candid Publie. Printed for b. barry, Bristol ; and sold by longman, hurst, rees, and orme, london j r. cruttwell, w. meyler and son, j. barrett, and j. upham, bath. Price is. 6d. Ji.vans_, Printer, Bristol. T"0 THE RESIDENT INHABITANTS OF BATH, PARTICULARLY TO THOSE WHO CHERISH A SPIRIT OF DEVOTION ; WHO RESPECT THE VOICE OF TRUTH; AND WHO ADVOCATE THE CAUSE OF DELICACY FROM AN UNAFFECTED IMPULSE OF GENUINE PURITY. Ladies and Gentlemen, I Humbly beg leave to submit the follow ing Discourse to your dispassionate perusal. I am induced f o do so by the advice of some clerical friends who have seen it in manuscript, and by a consciousness that I am incapable of uttering any thing in a pulpit that could wound the chastest ear, or in the slightest degree offend any mind that possesses real purity. I publish it in vindication of my moral character, and as my best, if not my only answer to those who have injuriously asserted that it bor ders upon obscenity. Indeed some have exhibited that charge in much more unqua lified language. A 2 IV Supported by a cheering persuasion that such calumnies are utterly unfounded, I dedicate this Sermon to thosE who -attend Divine Service for the purposes of fervent prayer and of pious meditation. From such persons I may confidently expect ac quittal upon the charge of indecency — from' such persons only do I desire approbation. I do not appeal to those who go to church in order to talk over the scandals of the last week, and to arrange their engagements for' the week following. After discussing those important points, such persons sometimes condescend to listen to the Sermon. . Blit with what view do they deign to do so ? Is it not with a view to criticize, and not to; be improved by it ? They think improve ment quite superfluous, and, ignorance and presumption being always inseparable, sup pose themselves capable of instructing any clergyman. They therefore go to church as to a place set apart for general conversa-r tion. Some go because, forsooth, it is necessary to set an exampie tci their ignorant* inferiors ; and others go because there is 116 other public assembly or place of 'exhibition on a Sunday morning. I pity such beings-, but I cannot hope to refortn them. Tvhust be equally hopeless of silencing their misrepresentations by any appeal (to their- affected humanity, or to their boasted reason ; yet I cannot forbear to catation them against continuing to pro-* fane tlie 'House of Prayer by practices which are infinitely more heinous than those -of the inoney-changers, ivho were thrust out of it by our blessed Redeemer because they had " made it a den of thieves." Those money'rchangers were guilty of petty frauds from a sinful greediness of gain, but the Church gossipper -is guilty of deliberate falsehoods from a far more sinful spirit of malignity. The thefts of the first were confined to mere dross, whilst those of the latter extend to character, which is of all things the most invaluable property. f I do not publish this Sermon under any vain supposition that it can do honour to my talents as a Divine, or to my taste as a Scholar. On the contrary, I consider it as a very hasty production, and therefore, too probably, an imperfect composition; but, such as it was, I publish it exactly as I preached it. I publish it in that state VI merely and only because my motive for printing it is the vindication of my moral character. I could not, therefore, correct it without attempting an imposition upon the judgment of that public to whose can dour I appeal upon this occasion. I would most willingly adopt three or four hints received from friends, whose judgments I respect very highly, but I must print it as it was, and not, perhaps, as it ought to be. In apology for its many faults I may truly plead, that it was written under all the dis advantages of repeated, or rather, indeed, continual interruptions. It was written whilst I was performing the laborious duties of a most meritorious brother-clergyman who was then indisposed and absent. But although I cannot recommend it as either profound or classical, I may safely boast that it is orthodox, moral, and well-intended. I may also safely boast that it was perfectly modest, notwithstanding the clamours of certain persons, whose prurient imaginations have created the indelicacy of whicb they accuse me. vu * One word more, and I have dbne.— With respect to myself, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me whether the misreport of my Sermon has originated in ignorance or in malice. In common charity I wish that it may have proceeded from ignorance only, as I very sincerely pity and forgive the reporters. But, if they have been instigated by spleen, I devoutly pray that the Almighty may inspire them with sentiments more sa lutary to their souls, and more creditable to their characters, I have the honour to be, Ladies and Gentlemen, Your most obedient, humble servant, LUCIUS COGHLAN, Bath, April 6, 1810. The Fall of David; SERMON. II. Samuel, Ch. xi. v. L " And it came to pass, after the year was expired, at the time when Kings go Jorth to battle, that David sent Joab and his servants with him, and all Israel: and they destroyed the Children of Ammon, and besieged Rabbah; but David tarried still at Jerusalem." THE last circumstance recorded in my text, that of David's tarrying still at Jerusalem, led to such horrible consequences as must clearly " prove the great and various dangers attendant upon that kind of indolence which seeks no employment for the mind or body; the more especially when such indolence is indulged in a state of retirement. The object ©f this discourse shall be to point out those 10 . dangers, and to convince all those who live as if the only object of life was self-enjoyment ; — as if it's only business was fo eat, drink, and recline upon the couch of luxury ; — that they must be subject to surprizes of sin, to which persons of more active pursuits are utter stran gers. The mind must be occupied; nor can there be a state of vacancy in any other than that of an ideot. In defiance of the most indo lent and even lethargic habits, the human soul will sometimes exercise its faculty of thinking, and if it be not supplied with proper intellectual food, will seize upon whatever casually offers, however gross or sensual. It is therefore incum bent upon us to supply it with that " proper food," and not leave it to chance, or to the arch-fiend, to furnish suggestions for the mind, or work for the body, that may be destructive of our eternal happiness. The miserable state of guilt into which indo lence, combined with seclusion, precipitated the* once virtuous David, holds out an awful lesson to mankind, of our insufficiency, of ourselves, to resist temptation. It proves the urgent ne cessity of keeping constantly upon the alert against its too possible surprizes, and of praying with fervor that God may enable us, by His grace, to resist them effectually. n If purity of parental example and of early education : — if sound, religious, and moral prin ciples, supported by habitual correctness : — if genuine dignity of mind and of situation : — if a laudable ambition to preserve an unspotted cha racter, and to prove himself deserving of his ,envied exaltation: — and, above all, if a piously grateful recollection of God's extraordinary good ness cpuld have exempted him from the lapses of human frailty, David must have escaped from his trial, uninjured and triumphant. But, notwithstanding all those advantages, he fell; and, if he had not immediately repented with the humblest self-abasement and most pungent sorrow, he must have fallen into a state of per dition at once hopeless and everlasting. Since the fall of our first parents, and the consequent introduction of sin into the world, even tfoe best of human beings feel a natural propensity to certain frailties, against which there is no other impenetrable shield, no other unfailing security, than the Divine assistance. Happy are they who pray for and obtain , it ! To those who rely upon their own strength, I will say, " Let him who thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." I will further say, in the words of our blessed Saviour, as repeatedly delivered to his immediate disciples, " Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation.'' And I will illustrate the absolute necessity of. 12 doing so, by a few practical observations upon the atrocious, although short-lived wickedness^ of David, who. stands recorded as a deplorable instance of the utter inefficacy of good inten tions, when opposed to the sudden surprizes or impetuous assaults of our corrupt passions, un less the grace of God shall enable us to controul them. If any human being, merely as human, could have been proof against temptation, or could have safely relied upon his fixed principles, David was that being. His crimes, however, too clearly convince us, that there cannot bel any " safety but from the Lord." The words of my text develope the immediate source of- David's wickedness. " But David tarried still at Jerusalem,'" and that too " after the time when Kings go forth to battle;" for such was then the practice and the duty of the kings of IsVaeL He, however, for the first time, omitted that practice and neglected that duty. Alas! how fatal did that unseasonable indulgence prove to his reputation and to his happiness ! Although David was then in the prime of life and a youthful warrior, he suffered the ark of the Lord to be carried forth to battle without thinking it necessary to accompany and protect it ; — a too clear proof that his zeal in the service ef the God of Israel was abating rapidly. 13; Indeed it is manifest from that circumstance, as well as from his subsequent fall, that.be was beginning to forget his God amidst the dangerous allurements of sensuality and luxury. We have already seen that, instead of accompanying the ark, he remained at home indulging upon the downy pillow of indolence, that too prolific parent of crimes and follies. That it was so, appears most plainly from the context ; for the Scripture narrative proceeds as follows: " And it came to pass in an evening tide, that David arose from off his bed and walked upon the roof of the king's house." From this statement w.e must infer that he had been consuming tho entire day in all the soul-corrupting ease of Asiatic delicacy : — an unoccupied state that in sensibly leads to ruminations of an inflammatory arid most dangerous nature.. So prepared, his heart became as it were a mine highly charged with combustibles, and ready; to . explode io a moment. As a proof that it was so, listen to theifollowing.sentence in the Scripture narrative:, " And from the roof he saw a; woman tyashiagj herself, and the wtimatl waa very beautiful toj look upon." It is not necessary! for my present purpose to proceed i further, for, you all musfc recollect the catastrophe. ./jr-.-n^uu . ;m And here permit'me to ask you, is it possi-hlfe to imagine a more decisive instance of the dan ger^ to ¦ which n life of indolent luxury exposes, 14 us, than all the circumstances of this eventful narrative? Do they not powerfully evince the urgent necessity of fully occupying our minds, either by active employments or by improving studies, instead of suffering their vigour to be relaxed by the softening languor of listless sloth, or their attention to be arrested by the too attractive enticements of sensual appetites? Whoever peruses the affecting history of David with attention, must discover in it much to pity, more to condemn, and almost every thing to deprecate. In David's fall we may anticipate our own, unless we shall resolve to take warning from, and to profit by his misfor tunes. Let us all consider his case as an useful lesson of monition : — as an awful example of the continual necessity under which we live, of employing our time usefully : — of keeping a watchfully- tight rein upon our otherwise unruly passions : — and of guarding unceasingly against all the sudden surprizes or open assaults of temp tation. Let us firmly resist the first solicitations of vice; let us carefully avoid all opportunities of being exposed to them ; and let us earnestly pray to God for his support under every temp tation that may assail our piety and virtue. Lest any persons here should be so weak as to imagine that they do not stand in need of such precautions or of such aid, which they may be' 15 led to do under an idea that their morals are erected upon a rock which cannot be shaken, I must entreat your attention whilst I endeavour to convince you by facts, and by clear deduc tions from those facts, that any reliance upon the supposed all-sufficiency of our own moral strength to resist temptation must .always be found a very fallacious and destructive reliance. Good intentions and good habits, with constant watchfulness, may do much, and are indispen- sahle to our security. But without fervent prayer for the support of God's grace under the pres sure of those temptations which too frequently assail our virtue, I repeat, " Let him who think- eth he standeth, take heed lest he fall." Let us here take a short review of David's birth, education, and all the other circumstances of his^ early life, in order to remind you that no man was ever more likely to escape unhurt from the assaults of temptation than he was, ff human means alone could confer security. He was descended from a family which was selected from amongst the chosen people of God for its pre eminent piety; he was educated by his father Jesse according to the strictest discipline and spirit of the Jewish religion; and, finally, he was bred up as a shepherd, an occupation that has been celebrated in every age and in every country, for its simplicity and innocence. His mind and his sentiments were worthy of such a 16 birth and of sucli an education, for We find that fee was chosen by God himself to be King of Israel. I repeat, that he was " chosen," and that expressly, ," by God Himself," as appears from God's answer to SamUel, who had fixed upon and intended to anoint Eliab, the eldest son of Jesse, having been struck by his com manding appearance*. But the Lord said unto Samuel, look not on his countenance or on the height of his stature, because I have refused him; for tlie Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh upon the heart." From those words of God to His prophet Samuel, it is ma nifest that He who alone can read the humane heart, and penetrate into its inmost recesses, had found' that of David to be perfectly puJe and holy. <-'"-»<'- ^ After such incontestible evidence of David's innocence', antecedent to his ifalll, it might be worse thian superfluous : to enter into a more minute detaiil of his character, •'fclthougb/ ¦!¦> do not know iany life, in either ancient Or moderta titties, Which , 'exhibited J s6 many strikingly- interesting land beautiful traits of every quality that tends to and is characteristic of unaffected, piety. I refer you, for the particulars of itfdSe trajts to the first and second books of Samuel, from which it will appear that all his youth, 1 Saml. xvi. 7. 17 previous to the fatal day of his " tarrying at Jerusalem" in idleness, was dedicated to the service of the Almighty. Let us then calmly ask ourselves, can We safely rely upon our own unassisted strength, after the afflicting failure of a man like David ? It is manifest that David's extraordinary fall, and still more extraordinary recovery, must have been permitted for reasons which the under standing of man, if unassisted by the light of revelation, could never enable him to compre hend or-fathom. But any man, who will take the trouble of searching for them, may discover some of the natural causes which led to that fall, and such a discovery must be useful for the. direction of his own future conduct. The source of David's first lapse from virtue is too plain to be mistaken. It most clearly originated in a want of that due employment for the mind which is absolutely necessary for our safety, it being a long established axiom that " idleness is the fruit ful parent of vices."1 Instead of going forth, as usual, to fight the battles of the Lord, he loi tered behind in a state of voluptuous indolence. That was the cause of his fall, and the effect was such as might be expected from it. They both demonstrate the wisdom of the following admo nition by the Son of Sirach*. " Look not round * Ecclus. ix. 7, 8. B 18 febout thee in the streets of the city, neither Wander tlion in the solitary places thereof. Turn away thine eyes from a beautiful woman, and took not upon another's beauty : for many have been deceived by the beauty of a woman; for herewith love is kindled as with a fire." So David found it to be; so Solomon, that oracle of wisdom, afterwards found it to be ; and so every man shall find it to be who weakly yields to every impulse of his libidinous appetites. Let then the fate of David stand recorded in our minds as a terrifying instance of human frailty. Let it remain as a beacon, to point out the shoals and quicksands of licentious pleasures. The man who relaxes in his piety or integrity, and deviates from the line of rectitude in a single instance,, can never safely say, " I will go so far and no further." — Let us scrutinize the instance Which is tlie object of our present enquiry. When David first saw Bathsheba, hedid not know her to be a married woman. It is therefore most highly propable that, when he first yielded to a lustful impulse, he intended to indulge in a transient lapse from virtue. Even that must have been highly criminal, but still it would have been venial, when compared with what followed. It is further to be observed, that the strictest Jews did not at that time feel many scruples -about committing fornication*. Be that as it -* 1 Cor.js. 18. 19 J»ay, David, most unhappily for himself, pro* .Ceeded much further* Having once resigned his mind to the pursuit, he had not firmness enougn (to recede when he found that she was the wife oof Uriah. Entangled in the toils of vice and •enslaved by lust, he had not fortitude sufficient to disengage himself. He therefore plunged, without reflection or compunction, into the guilt £>f adultery, and that too with the wife of a man who was then fighting the battles of his king, df his country, and of his God. Such deeds are often brought to light although done in darkness, and with all the precautions of imagined security. So it was with David. The consequence ©f his guilt became speedily loo conspicuous, and Bathsheba's pregnancy : involved David in a dilemma of a very serious nature. He saw that Uriah could never be con sidered as the father, unless he could be recalled by isome stratagem to his family. In that diffi culty David sent to Joab, saying, " Send me Uriah the Hittite. And Joab sent him." The pretence Was to make enquiry into the conduct of the war ; ^>and, having made that enquiry, David treated Uriah with the most flattering distinction ; for the idea of murder had never filtered into his head in that stage of the business. He thought it a far better expedient to send for the unsus pecting husband, and by affording him an oppor tunity of again cohabiting with his wife, to B 2 20 tnake him suppose himself the father of a spu rious offspring. That expedient did not succeed, for Uriah inflexibly refused to go down to his house, not because he suspected either David or his wife, but because he thought it criminal to indulge in any luxury at such a moment. The reasons which he assigned for his self-denial reflect honor upon his memory, as a religious man and as a brave soldier. * " He said unto David, The ark, and Israel, and Judah abide in tents. Shall I then go into mine house to eat and to drink, and to lie with my wife ? As thou livest, and as thy soul liveth, I will not do this thing." * Such sentiments were worthy of a better fate than that which then awaited him ; and he per severed in those sentiments, although his sove-> reign had artfully made a feast for him, and had contrived, at once by his royal example and ear nest persuasion, to make him drunk in the ban quet. Having failed in that project, David clearly saw that no other alternative then remained thaa that of sacrificing either Bathsheba or her hus band : for, if Uriah survived, Bathsheba must be inevitably stoned to death for her then convicted adultery. Tha#wfis a sentence from which even •the king's prer&gative could not screen her. Em barrassed by such a frightful choice of .evils, he, '* ,2 Sara, xi. 11. 21 at length, determined to save her at every hazard; He accordingly