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 MEMORIAL OF SANFORD: 
 
 COMPRISING A 
 
 SELECTION FROM 'ftlS SERMONS; 
 
 WITH A 
 
 MEMOIR 
 
 B Y [M^ B A L L U, 
 
 FASTOR Or THK T7NIVKRSALIST SOCIETY, BRIDGEPORT, CT, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HALLOCK & LYON, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 No. 3 ASTOR HOUSE, BARCLAY ST. 
 1850.
 
 HIS RELATIVES AND FRIENDS, 
 
 WHO HAVE DESIRED ITS PUBLICATION, 
 
 FOE WHOSE ESPECIAL BENEFIT IT IS ISSUED, 
 
 "MEMORIAL OF SANFORD" 
 
 M. B.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 MEMOIR. 
 
 PAOB. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 7 
 
 BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY, . . . 10 
 
 COMMENCES THE MINISTRY, . . .17 
 
 MINISTRY IN BATH, N. H., & . . 19 
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND, VT., . . .26 
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN, CT., . . 42 
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN, MASS., . . .91 
 
 SERMONS. 
 I. AFFLICTION, . . . . .111 
 
 ^ II. MAN CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD, 140 
 
 III. SIN A MORAL INSANITY, . .164 
 
 X IV. THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST, . . 186 
 
 V. HUMAN DESTINY, .... 207 
 
 XVI. JOY OF THE GOSPEL, . . . 232
 
 MEMOIR. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IF "history ought to be re- written," may it not 
 be said, with equal truth, that biography has been 
 highly defective, not in its style or manner of com- 
 position, but in its subjects ? It has seized, for 
 the most part, on the lives of the famous : the 
 world's warriors -and heroes, tyrants, and men of 
 blood ; not omitting its criminals, and those who 
 have become notorious from selfishness, ambition, 
 pride, and lust. True, it has embraced the no- 
 blest men of genius, in literature, science, and art ; 
 with many who have deserved its embalming 
 power for their virtues, but how small a space 
 has it allotted to unpretending worth ; to moral 
 and religious merit alone ; to the self- sacrificing, 
 philanthropic, and quiet laborers for God and hu- 
 manity ! How many of this class have sprung 
 up to bless the walks of private life ; exhaled the
 
 8 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 sweetness of pious and benevolent souls, made 
 their sacrifices, toiled their hours of duty, and 
 passed away without memorial save in the hearts 
 of those who knew and loved them, and leaving 
 their names unrecorded except in "the Lamb's 
 book of life !" 
 
 Pictures or sketches of such should be scat- 
 tered throughout society. They would encourage 
 goodness. They would strengthen virtue. They 
 would silently admonish the selfish and vi- 
 cious. They would assist in guiding the minds 
 and blessing the hearts of our children. And 
 that biography has so far overlooked them ; 
 that it has so often passed them by to seize upon 
 examples of at least questionable influence, is 
 doubtless chiefly owing to that false system of 
 education which teaches us that goodness is no 
 necessary element of true greatness ; that, a desi- 
 rable eminence may be attained at even4-he sacri- 
 fice of virtue ; and that we may win distinction 
 and an enviable renown the more surely to kill 
 with a Wellington than to heal with a Howard. 
 
 It is from considerations like these, principally, 
 that the following memoir is given to the world ; 
 that an outline of Sanford's brief and unpretend- 
 ing history has been drawn from the archives of 
 private friendship for the public eye ; and that
 
 9 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 while it shall serve as a memorial for those who 
 knew him, and form, to some extent, a suitable 
 example for the young, it may, at the same time, 
 respectfully appeal to the common judgment and 
 the common heart.
 
 BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 
 
 THE border of Vermont, near its south-western 
 extremity, is a wild and picturesque region. The 
 Green Mountain range strides across it into the 
 upper part of Massachusetts, with its eastern side 
 broken and ragged, thrown up into huge masses 
 of rock, crowned by noble old forest trees, or 
 ploughed into deep ravines by the Deerfield River 
 and its branches, leaving occasional summits, 
 slopes, and intervals, to sustain a hardy and 
 honest class of agriculturists. Its inhabitants, 
 ever since its settlement, have retained many of 
 the peculiar features of their Puritan ancestry. 
 They are characterized by a somewhat strong 
 sense of religious obligation, joined to a sturdy 
 love of personal freedom ; frank and simple in 
 their habits ; kind and hospitable in their feelings ; 
 laborious, tolerant, and possessing practical but 
 vigorous native talent, rather than high culture, 
 and plain but attractive home virtues rather than 
 great social refinement. Indeed, their local posi- 
 tion and mode of life have, to a great extent, 
 hitherto shut them out from the more showy and
 
 BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 11 
 
 false world of fashion, and primitive habits pre- 
 side still over their households, and primitive vir- 
 tues gather around their hearth-stones. 
 
 Here, in the town of Readsboro', Merritt San- 
 ford was born, on the llth of October, 1812, and 
 passed the first sixteen years of his life. He be- 
 longed to quite a numerous family, somewhat 
 wealthy, and highly respectable, his father being 
 one of the most prominent and trustworthy citi- 
 zens of the town. In his early disposition and 
 developments there was little to distinguish him 
 from the better-disposed class of young men 
 around him. He loved the sports incident to boy- 
 hood, and was not averse to sharing the toils of 
 his father's farm. Still, there was very early 
 manifested, and grew with his years, a disinclina- 
 tion to confine himself to the limited sphere of the 
 mountain farmer, that was by no means prompted 
 by pride, selfishness, or ambition. It sprang, 
 rather, from a vague consciousness of powers that 
 were capable of a somewhat wider and higher 
 field of effort : the first expanding throe of facul- 
 ties that required a different atmosphere for their 
 development ; and impulsive aspirations for a life 
 less purely physical, and far more desirable. 
 
 His education during this period was such only 
 as the place and time afforded. A summer school
 
 12 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 of from three to four months, taught by some 
 youno 1 lady of no very eminent attainments, and 
 which few thought of attending over the age of 
 ten years ; with a winter term of about the same 
 length under charge of a man of similar qualifica- 
 tions, for older pupils, where nothing was at- 
 tempted beyond the simplest elementary studies, 
 constituted the principal means of public instruc- 
 tion. He made the most, however, of these hum- 
 ble means, and was accounted among his com- 
 rades as a diligent student and an apt scholar. In 
 the summer, his time was chiefly devoted to the 
 labors of the farm, and he was often observed to 
 take his book into the fields for study during the 
 intervals of toil. In his sixteenth year he entered 
 a store as clerk, and in a journal which he subse- 
 quently kept for a season, he alludes to it, remark- 
 ing, that the business pleased him for a while, 
 more from its novelty, however, than because he 
 had a taste for it, and that in about three years he 
 left it and returned again to his father's farm. 
 
 He was now approaching an important era in 
 his history. The magical age of twenty-one was 
 near. With the wide world before him, he must 
 choose his path for life. He proposed to his own 
 heart the solemn question : " What is to be what 
 ought to be the business of my life?"
 
 BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 13 
 
 It is worthy of remark, as showing his prevailing 
 disposition at this early period, that the foregoing 
 question, which I have copied from his own lan- 
 guage, recognizes the claims of duty as paramount 
 in selecting his occupation. The inquiry indicates 
 a loyalty to moral considerations that formed the 
 guiding star of his brief career. 
 
 A train of circumstances, together with the ten- 
 dency of his own feelings, fixed a determination to 
 adopt the Christian ministry as a profession. 
 
 There were many obstacles in the way, however, 
 and many difficulties to be previously encountered 
 and overcome. A brief view of the religious con- 
 dition of society there at the time, will exhibit 
 some of the more prominent of them. 
 
 He was educated in the views of the self-styled 
 Orthodox. His parents were Methodists of a mod- 
 erate kind, maintaining zealously the doctrine of 
 endless retribution, and strenuously opposing the 
 antagonistic sentiment of the final holiness and 
 happiness of all men. 
 
 The latter doctrine, however, had many advo- 
 cates through all that region. Toward half a 
 century previous, Rev. David Ballou, an elder bro- 
 ther of the Rev. Hosea Ballou, of Boston, and the 
 father of the writer, had settled in an adjoining 
 
 * 2 *
 
 14 MEMOIR OF SANFOED. 
 
 town (Monroe, Mass.), preaching as an itinerant, 
 chiefly in the four contiguous counties, Berkshire 
 and Franklin (Mass.), and Windhara and Ben- 
 nington (Vt.). 
 
 For some forty years or more was he a faithful 
 herald of Universalism ; and there was hardly a 
 town through all that mountain jregion, stretching 
 nearly from the Connecticut to the Hudson, that 
 heard not his voice in its public proclamation, 
 " without money and without price." At near the 
 close of young Sanford's minority, therefore, the 
 believers in Universalism in that section had become 
 somewhat numerous. He had often attended the 
 meetings of my father, as well as those of Rev. 
 Hosea Ballou, who usually spent a Sabbath or two 
 there on his annual visits to his relatives, and had 
 frequently heard their views made the topic of 
 private as well as public discussion. At about this 
 time, also, the public mind there had become 
 I'M -lily excited with reference to these views, by 
 ral accessions to the Universalist ministry. 
 Iu \. H. F. Ballou, who has been for many years 
 one of our most industrious and efficient preachers, 
 had then but just entered upon his work in Monroe, 
 Readsboro', Whitingham, and the adjoining towns > 
 in which he was soon followed by Rev. Joseph
 
 BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 15 
 
 Barber, now of Paper Mill Village, N. H., a good 
 scholar (having been bred a physician), and a 
 logical and philosophical sermonizer. 
 
 The labors of these men gave a new impulse to 
 the cause of truth. They served to call a more 
 general attention to its claims, and, as may well be 
 supposed, exerted no little influence in drawing to 
 the ministry of reconciliation some four or five 
 others, who soon after attempted it, including the 
 subject of this Memoir, who, together with the 
 writer, were finally all that adopted it as the great 
 business of life. 
 
 There had been, loo, quite a revival among the 
 Methodists of Readsboro', and especially in the 
 neighborhood of young Sanford's residence. 
 
 They had succeeded in getting up considerable 
 religious excitement, and he began to think it full 
 time to settle in his own mind the conflicting claims 
 of these different prevailing views, and to take a 
 decided stand either for the faith of his fathers, or 
 what had already began to appear to him the more 
 attractive and desirable doctrine of Universal 
 salvation. 
 
 He began a careful and searching personal ex- 
 amination of the Holy Scriptures, reading also 
 several important works on theology by able wri- 
 ters, among which he subsequently mentioned, with
 
 16 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 much satisfaction, the admirable treatise of Dr. 
 Southwood Smith, " On the Divine Government;" 
 a work which, to the best class of minds, as a proof 
 of Universalism, for its simple, clear, and conclu- 
 sive reas9ning, is hardly excelled by any merely 
 human effort, except, perhaps, by Rev. Hosea 
 Ballou's celebrated " Treatise on the Atonement." 
 ^ As the result of this investigation, he says : " I 
 came to the conclusion that Universalism is the 
 doctrine of reason and revelation. I was filled with 
 'joy unspeakable,' and I resolved to preach it. 
 Many obstacles were in the way. My parents re- 
 monstrated. I was poor, and my literary acquire- 
 ments were quite limited ; but, with the grace of 
 God, I was determined to preach ' the unsearch- 
 able riches of Christ' to my fellow-men. Having 
 this constantly in view, I continued with my pa- 
 rents, at least for the most of the time, working on 
 the farm during the proper seasons for such labor, 
 and teaching school in the winters ; at the same 
 time, devoting every hour at my command to 
 studies which I thought would fit me for my in- 
 tended work, until the 25th of January, 1835, 
 when I began the work of an evangelist."
 
 COMMENCES THE MINISTRY. 
 
 His first discourses indicated a good degree of 
 talent, with a remarkable freedom in composition, 
 for one who had hardly written anything more than 
 a friendly epistle, and whose education in every 
 respect was so very limited. 
 
 True, he was in his twenty- third year. The 
 intervals of his summer toils and his winter teaching 
 had been improved with a zeal and intensity of 
 effort that are seldom found in connection with 
 greater advantages ; and hours that most young 
 men would have given to amusement and recrea- 
 tion, he had dedicated chiefly to reading and 
 thought. His earlier sermons plainly showed that 
 this labor was not in vain. Those who had been 
 familiar with his boyhood, and knew his humble 
 means of improvement, were astonished to see him 
 step forth so suddenly and so thoroughly qualified 
 for his great work, with convincing thought and 
 persuasive speech. And though a prophet is 
 generally supposed to have little honor in his own 
 country, he soon won an enviable reputation in 
 his native town, and praise even from those who
 
 18 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 could not agree with him in religious opinions. 
 Methodists and Universalists alike attended his 
 meetings. There was a fervor of zeal, a singleness 
 of purpose, and a goodness of heart, joined with 
 firmness, integrity, and a modest deportment, that 
 won him a high position in their esteem and affec- 
 tions. He was immediately called on to preach 
 in his own neighborhood and adjoining places, 
 and continued his ministry in that region for about 
 seventeen months. 
 
 In the spring of 1836, the Universalist Society 
 in Bath, N. H., was destitute of a pastor, and, on 
 hearing Mr. Sanford, he was invited to remove 
 there and take charge of it ; an invitation which 
 be finally accepted.
 
 MINISTRY IN BATH. 
 
 i 
 
 HE removed to this place in the month of June. 
 The society was a small one, but composed for the 
 most part of very excellent individuals. They had 
 erected a neat and attractive house of worship, 
 and were able to support preaching for one half 
 of the time, at a very respectable salary. The 
 town was remarkably pleasant. Nestled in at the 
 foot of the hills that prop the base of the far-famed 
 White Mountains, and dotting the shores of the 
 Ammonoosuc, near its junction with the Connec- 
 ticut River, it formed a delightful place of resi- 
 dence As a field of operations for a clergyman 
 of rational and liberal views, it had its trials and 
 difficulties. 
 
 These views had a few warm-hearted and de- 
 voted friends; but they encountered an opposi- 
 tion as bitter as it was blind, and as untiring as 
 it was unchristian. But it formed a good battle- 
 ground for one clothed in the true panoply of the 
 Master. Here Mr. S. took up his residence, 
 spending each alternate Sabbath with the friends 
 in the adjoining towns. The people soon became
 
 20 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 warmly attached to him. It was the beginning of 
 a prosperous and happy ministry ; and, for the few 
 years that he remained, the cause of Divine truth 
 moved steadily forward. The following autumn 
 he was married to Miss Joanna E., youngest 
 daughter of Henry Holbrook, Esq., of his native 
 town. This union, though destined to be brief, 
 was perhaps as perfect as any ever formed upon 
 the earth. 
 
 I would represent neither party as faultless, ex- 
 cept toward each other. In this respect, at least, 
 they seemed to be so. Probably it falls to the lot 
 of very few in that relation to maintain for any 
 length of time the entire congeniality of taste and 
 disposition, habit and feeling, that characterized 
 their married life. Both were peculiarly fitted for 
 it. He had strong social and domestic feelings. 
 His love of home, kindred, and friends was more 
 than ordinary, and formed a very distinguished 
 trait in his character. He had great respect for 
 females generally too .much, indeed, to allow him 
 to address them with flattery, or treat them with 
 the slightest insincerity. He always maintained 
 that marriage should be based upon something 
 higher than the realization of youthful passion, or 
 the gratification of sensuous fancy. He believed 
 that mankind were formed for it : that, by an in-
 
 MINISTRY IN BATH. 21 
 
 exorable law of their being, in culture, develop- 
 ment, and the elements of a true life, they must 
 be imperfect without it ; that a single life for either 
 sex was unnatural ; and that their cordial union 
 was demanded for the perfection of both.* With 
 
 * " When I consider the priceless worth of woman, the ten- 
 derness and strength of her attachments, the station allotted 
 to her by the Creator, together with the influence which she is 
 capable of exerting on the mental and moral culture of the 
 human race, I tremble at the contemplation of the work before 
 me, in addressing young ladies on their relations, their powers, 
 and their duties. * * * * But, brief as my time has been 
 on the stage of experience, I hare lived long enough to know 
 something of the dignity of woman's station, and the value of 
 woman's worth. 
 
 " The mother who gave me birth, who watched over my in- 
 fant years with untiring affection, whose lips gave me my first 
 lessons in knowledge and religion, and whose heart was torn 
 with anxiety as I left the paternal mansion to go forth into the 
 world and act my part in the great drama of life that mother 
 was a woman. Those sisters, that were as olive plants in my 
 father's house, whose hearts were knit together by ties as tender 
 and strong as the sympathies of .angels, whose feet were swift 
 to render me aid and assistance, and whose souls were melted 
 in pity and compassion at every tale of human woe, those 
 sisters were women. And more than all, that being who was 
 the wife of my youth, who joined her fortunes, whether for weal 
 or woe, unto mine for life; whose whole soul was instinct with 
 love for my welfare, and who forgot even her own dangers and 
 sufferings in tireless efforts to bless her infant charge; but who, 
 alas ! now sleeps in the grave, with that only child pillowed 
 upon her arm, yes, that wife was also a woman. I know, 
 then, something of the being concerning whom I am to speak. 
 3
 
 22 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 Miss Holbrook he had been acquainted from 
 childhood. 
 
 Their parents had long been on terms of inti- 
 
 I have seen her in most of the varied duties of her station, and 
 have been witness to both her weakness and her strength. 
 * * * * Much has been said on the comparative merits of 
 the sexes. Man has generally claimed the superiority, and in 
 some respects truly. In physical strength and endurance ; in 
 animal courage and daring ; and in intellectual vigor for ab- 
 struser studies ; for efforts which call for great strength and 
 comprehensiveness of thought it will bo acknowledged, doubt, 
 less, on all hands, that he is considerably her superior. But 
 there are other elements, equally important in the sight of 
 God elements necessary to complete human nature; necessary 
 for the comfort, instruction, and improvement of society, in 
 which she most largely excels us. I refer to her social and 
 moral feelings, and especially to her affections. 
 
 " Schiller, the German poet and philosopher, has well con- 
 trasted them in his poem on the worth of woman. Thus : 
 
 " ' Honored be woman ! she beams on the sight 
 Graceful and fair as a being of light ; 
 Scatters around her, wherever she strays, 
 The roses of bliss on our thorn-covered ways ; 
 Roses of Paradise ! sent from above, 
 To be gathered and twined in a garland of love.' 
 " ' Man on passion's stormy ocean, 
 
 Tossed by surges mountain high, 
 Courts the hurricane commotion, 
 Spurns at reason's feeble cry.' 
 
 " ' Woman Invites him with bliss in her smile, 
 To cease from his toil and be happy awhile, 
 Whispering wooingly, come to my bower ! 
 Go not in search of the phantom of power I
 
 MINISTRY IN BATH. iJ3 
 
 macy, and the children knew each other well. He 
 believed that she combined the qualifications that 
 were necessary to make him happy, and the at- 
 
 Honor and wealth are illusory come ! 
 Happiness dwells in the temple of Home.' 
 
 " ' Man, with fury stern and savage, 
 
 Persecutes his brother man ; 
 Reckless if he bless or ravage ; 
 
 Action action still his plan. 
 Now creating, now destroying, 
 
 Ceaseless wishes tear his breast ; 
 Ever wishing, ne'er enjoying, 
 
 Still to be, but never blest.' 
 
 " 'Woman, contented in silent repose, 
 
 Enjoys in its beauty life's flower as it blows, 
 And waters and tends it with innocent heart, 
 Far richer than man with his treasures of art ; 
 And wiser by far in her circle confined, 
 Than he with his science and flights of the mind.' 
 
 " ' In the realm of man's dominion, 
 
 Terror is the ruling word, 
 And the standard of opinion 
 
 Is the temper of the sword ; 
 Strife exults, and pity, blushing, 
 
 From the scene despairing fliei, 
 Where to battle madly rushing, 
 
 Brother npon brother dies.' 
 
 ' Woman commands with a milder control, 
 She rules by enchantment the realm of the soul ; 
 As she glances around in the light of her smile, 
 The war of the passions is hushed for awhile, 
 And discord, content from his fury to cease, 
 Reposes entranced on the pillow of peace.' " 
 
 Extracts f torn a Lecture to Young Women.
 
 24 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 tachment that finally ripened into marriage had 
 early sprang up between them. She was exceed- 
 ingly modest and retiring in her manners, simple 
 in her tastes and habits, amiable in her disposition; 
 and most fondly attached to him. O, with what 
 bright hopes and joyous hearts did they greet that 
 November sun which dawned on the day of their 
 union ! Happy was it for them that 
 
 " Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate !" 
 
 The few years that followed, previous to his 
 wife's death, were probably the happiest of his 
 life. His subsequent allusions to them were fre- 
 quent, and in terms which showed that they were 
 never to be forgotten. In the days of sorrow and 
 loveliness which succeeded, he terms them a Para- 
 dise, and throws back upon them such lingering 
 looks as primitive man might have cast toward 
 his lost Eden. At the close of his third year in 
 Bath, he received an invitation to take charge of 
 the Universalist Society in Hartland, Vt. Many 
 considerations urged it upon his acceptance. The 
 Society in Hartland was an old and tried one. It 
 was sufficiently large to employ his whole time, 
 would increase his income, which was needed for 
 his growing family, and relieve him from the ne- 
 cessity of traveling, especially in the winter sea-
 
 MINISTRY IN BATH. 25 
 
 son, to supply appointments at a distance, as he 
 was obliged to do while remaining at Bath. Much, 
 therefore, as he was attached to his friends in the 
 latter place, and strong as were their regards for 
 him and his wife, he decided to leave, and took up 
 his residence in Hartland, in July, 1839. 
 
 3*
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 
 
 A" WIDER, and, in some respects, a different field 
 of labor opened before him here. The doctrine 
 of Universalism had been preached for a much 
 greater length of time. His congregation was 
 large, and tolerably well instructed in its peculiar 
 principles. The wants of the people were, there- 
 fore, somewhat different. His attention was called 
 more directly to investigations that he had never 
 pursued before. And although his preaching was 
 still strongly of a doctrinal character, it became gra- 
 dually less highly controversial : perhaps it may be 
 termed more truly philosophical. He had studied 
 the works of the eminent Dr. Spurzheim, and was 
 charmed with them. Mental and moral science 
 was revealed in a new light. His previous views 
 upon these subjects had been somewhat vague 
 and unformed. They now began to take shape 
 and distinctness. And from some traits of his 
 sermons, written along at this period, as well as 
 from my private recollections of his correspond- 
 ence and conversation, there was too much, per- 
 haps, of a tendency to make religion the mere
 
 MINISTRY IN HAETLAND. 27 
 
 thing of the intellect. It was a set of propositions 
 addressed to the reason. Its entire rationale must 
 be mastered. Every particular must have its de- 
 monstration. Too little space was given to faith ; 
 too little scope was given to the affections. The 
 whole sphere of the Divine operations, so varied, 
 diversified, and often so mysterious ; its compli- 
 cated processes stretching off into infinity, and all 
 its wonderful phenomena flashing their light across 
 the depths of being, as comets across the sky, 
 must be reduced to a system, and take a form that 
 would bring them within the grasp of the human 
 mind. The spiritual no less than the material 
 world put on a stiff and mechanical aspect. The 
 magical pencil that had mapped off the human 
 skull ; that had given " a local habitation and a 
 name " to all the powers and faculties of the 
 mind, had pushed its seemingly arbitrary regula- 
 tions into the realms of spirit ; had seized upon 
 the most subtle of mental and moral operations, 
 and reduced them to a mere clock-work. The 
 Universe became a great time-piece, the main- 
 spring of which was God. Perhaps the tendency 
 of Sanford's mind throughout, though long strug- 
 gled against, and finally very much modified, was 
 to reasonings a priori. Taking the great fact of 
 the Divine Sovereignty as a stand-point, and re-
 
 28 MEMOIR OP SANFORD. 
 
 garding the Divine attributes as primal forces, by 
 the action of which all things moved, there re- 
 sulted a kind of pantheism, in the abysses of 
 which all subordinate agencies become swallowed 
 up and lost. Moral existence, could there be 
 any such thing ? Were not all moral actions, 
 so termed, mere phenomena evolved from the 
 apparent conflict of forces as necessarily operative 
 and as purely mechanical as those that impel an 
 engine or turn a mill ? Still, he never lost sight 
 of the fact, that there was such a thing as duty ; 
 that accountability was a reality ; that somehow 
 we were, after all, moral agents, with a work to 
 perform, and a high destiny to realize. But we 
 shall have occasion to notice more of these specu- 
 lations before we close. Some incidents in his 
 personal history now awaited him, of a highly im- 
 portant character ; the most so, perhaps, of any 
 which he ever encountered in life. Four years 
 had rolled away since his marriage ; years of 
 almost uninterrupted happiness : a new source of 
 pleasure had been opened to him and his amiable 
 wife in the birth of a son. The cup of domestic 
 bliss seemed now filled to the brim. 
 
 The winter of 1840-41 passed pleasantly away, 
 divided between parochial duties, favorite studies, 
 and the delights of his little household. His
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 29 
 
 brief journal, which was commenced the succeed- 
 ing summer, alludes to this period of sunshine, 
 and describes the emotions which its retrospect 
 never failed to awaken. 
 
 " As 'the little boy increased in stature, and the 
 germs of mind put forth their promising manifes- 
 tations," he remarks, " I looked forward to the 
 full enjoyment of a Paradise in my little family. 
 But alas ! an evil day came upon me. On the 3d of 
 June, 1840, both my beautiful son and my devoted 
 wife were taken from me by the mysterious opera- 
 tions of Divine Providence. For awhile, notwith- 
 standing I had faith in the goodness of God and 
 in immortality, I thought my affliction was too 
 great to bear, and when I looked upon my lonely 
 condition, and upon the cold, unfeeling world 
 around me, I had a desire to depart and follow 
 those pure and loving ones who had gone before 
 me. But time and faith have been doing their 
 work, and, by their silent influence, bringing me 
 into a more calm and reconciled condition. And 
 though I believe I have not called in question the 
 justice and goodness of God in this measure of 
 his providence, yet I have shed more tears over 
 my own desolate state than over the destiny of the 
 departed. And so 'I continue unto this day,' 
 thanking God for existence, and the many bless-
 
 30 MEMOIR OF SANFOED. 
 
 ings he has given me, and trusting that ' the ills 
 that flesh is heir to' -will finally be overruled for 
 good by his infinite wisdom, when ' this mortal 
 shall put on immortality.' >: 
 
 From the effects of this severe visitation he 
 never fully recovered. They gave a tinge of mel- 
 ancholy to his sober hours, and threw a chastening 
 influence over his lighter ones. They pressed a 
 restraint upon the activity of his social feelings, 
 checked his joyous impulses, rendered the current 
 of his thoughts introversive, and gave a sombre 
 tone to a character naturally of great cheerfulness. 
 And, although he subsequently entered into the 
 marriage relation again, with a very interesting and 
 amiable lady, forming a union as fortunate and 
 happy doubtless as could exist under the circum- 
 stances ; and though he became popular and highly 
 successful as a preacher and writer, holding an envi- 
 able position in the ministry of reconciliation, with a 
 wide circle of very devoted friends, still it could 
 not be concealed from those who had known him 
 intimately from childhood, that the first freshness 
 of the heart was gone, that much of .the elasticity 
 of his spirits had departed, and that the brightest 
 portion, as it were, of his very being had been 
 buried in the grave with his wife and child. 
 
 The following extracts are from his journal :
 
 MINISTRY IN HAETLAND. 31 
 
 "Oct. llth, 1840. To-day I can say that I 
 have lived twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight 
 years ! This period looks short to me as I cast 
 my thoughts on the past; but it has been long 
 enough to bring about changes in science, politics, 
 and religion, which have altered materially the 
 complexion of the world. And what shall be 
 twenty-eight years to come ? O Lord ! Thou 
 knowest, and with Thee I leave the result. If 
 Thou dost preserve me to see twenty-eight years 
 more, preserve me in the ways of truth and vir- 
 tue, and grant that my labors may be of some 
 benefit to my fellow-men. But, if Thou dost see 
 fit to call me from this tabernacle of the flesh 
 before my present days are doubled, enable me to 
 be prepared for the summons." 
 
 " Nov. 20th. This day brings to my mind most 
 touchingly many once delightful but now sorrowful 
 subjects of thought. It is a year to-day since my 
 little son was introduced to the world. * * * 
 For awhile ' the little angel,' as he was affection- 
 ately termed by his mother, grew in stature, and 
 put forth tokens of intellect and affection, and then 
 closed his heaven-lit eyes on this world of disap- 
 pointment, and expired. 0, what a bitter hour 
 was that ! But the next one was more bitter still ; 
 for in that his devoted, self-sacrificing mother, the
 
 32 MEMOIR OF SANFOED. 
 
 loving companion of my youth, shared the same 
 fate, as though the happiness of Heaven could not 
 be complete if one was taken and the other left, 
 such was their loveliness, their sympathy with each 
 other, and with the spirits of ' the just made per- 
 fect.' Since then my home has been dreary and 
 desolate, and my condition like that of Adam 
 mourning the loss of Eden. 
 
 " But I will not repine. These, I trust, are not 
 the only fruits of time. The period is fast coming 
 when all her children shall be born from above, 
 and clothed in the garments of eternity. ' For I 
 reckon that the sufferings of this present time are 
 not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
 shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expecta- 
 tion of the creature waiteth for the manifestations 
 of the sons of God. For the creature was made 
 subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of 
 him who hath subjected the same in hope : because 
 the creature itself also shall be delivered from the 
 bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of 
 the children of God. For we know that the whole 
 creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together 
 until now. And not only they, but ourselves also, 
 which have the first-fruits of the Spirit ; even we 
 ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the 
 adoption, to wit: the redemption of our body.'
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 33 
 
 Bless the Lord, my soul, for the light and com- 
 fort of Christian hope !" 
 
 The winter was now approaching. Coldly and 
 sadly was it settling over that mountain region, 
 robbing outward nature of even the few beauties 
 it possessed for the eye dimmed with tears. 
 
 It seemed to increase his depression of spirits, 
 and deepen the shadows upon his heart. His wife 
 and child had been buried in Hartland, and it was 
 determined to remove their remains to his native 
 town, that their final rest might be among the 
 ashes of their kindred. He found a change of 
 scenes, for himself, and a partial relaxation of his 
 duties, extremely desirable. He decided, therefore, 
 on dissolving his connection with his society. It was 
 no hasty step. He pondered it long and prayer- 
 fully. He had many warm friends there ; and from 
 the best inhabitants of the place, some who were 
 most ardently attached to him. They mourned 
 bitterly on learning his intention to leave. They 
 used great exertions to induce him to remain. 
 But he could not bring his feelings to consent to 
 it. It had been the scene in part of the brightest 
 and happiest moments of his existence, and the 
 contrast was too severe. The following extract 
 from the letter asking for a dismission will show us 
 the leading considerations that urged his removal.
 
 34 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 "The cause of my taking this step, may be 
 found not in any very recent event, nor in any dis- 
 affection on my part toward the Society, but in 
 the affliction with which it has pleased God to 
 visit me. When I canie among you, I flattered 
 myself with the expectation that I might dwell 
 with you, usefully and happily, for several 
 years ; but in an unlooked-for hour my family was 
 taken from me by death, and my Eden of domestic 
 and social bliss destroyed. From that hour I have 
 thought that my stay with you would be short ; 
 and having concluded to remove the mortal re- 
 mains of my wife and child, where they can rest 
 with the dust of their kindred, I have purposed 
 in myself to take my leave of you when this is 
 done, which I expect will be early in the coming 
 month of January. To leave you and my friends 
 here for I know that I have friends here will 
 be a trial to my feelings, but it is my conviction 
 that it would be a harder one to come back here 
 to live in comparative loneliness, amidst scenes 
 which were once so rife with joy, but which are 
 now shrouded in almost sepulchral gloom. 
 
 "It is my design to spend the winter with my 
 relatives in the south part of the state, and then, if 
 my life is spared, and the great Master of the mor- 
 al vineyard has anything for me to do, I hope to
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 35 
 
 resume the pleasing duty of preaching the un- 
 searchable riches of Christ." 
 
 The earnest solicitations he received to remain 
 had almost shaken his resolution to leave, still he 
 felt impelled to go. He wanted rest. He could 
 hardly summon resolution for the mental efforts 
 which his duties demanded. 
 
 " Dec. 3. Thanksgiving day in this State. Had 
 no meeting, partly because it was so thinly attend- 
 ed last year, and partly because I have not entered 
 so deeply into the spirit of thanksgiving as I did 
 last year. Then all was prosperity and hope with 
 me : now nearly all is adversity and discourage- 
 ment. This very day numbers just six months 
 since my little family my earthly heaven was 
 taken from me. ' Time flies swiftly,' it is true, but 
 this period has seemed comparatively long, so 
 lonely has been my condition, so bereaved my 
 heart. But I have good health, and many kind 
 and faithful friends. For these, and all other 
 sources of comfort and happiness, may I offer unto 
 the Lord continual thanksgiving." 
 
 " Jan. 1, 1841. ' Happy New- Year' greets me 
 again, but it falls upon the ear with a more 
 melancholy tone than in former years ; not that it 
 comes from less cheerful and benevolent friends, 
 but that my mind cannot give it the same hearty
 
 36 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 response. The past year has taught me a de- 
 sponding lesson, and I look upon the future as 
 more dark and turbulent than I have done in 
 younger and brighter periods of my life, or than I 
 did at the dawn of the year which has just now 
 closed. I begin to think that the longer we live, 
 the darker the future appears to us ; and if this 
 is the case, why should we count it a calamity to 
 die in the bright morning of life, before the roses 
 of hope have lost their freshness and beauty ? 
 
 " But I will not look on the future with despair. 
 My reason, philosophy, and religion, bid me view 
 life as a school, whose elements of discipline, 
 though severe, are necessary for the correction, 
 development, and improvement of mankind. The 
 giant oak has been made by winds and storms no 
 less than by serenity and sunshine." 
 
 On the third of January he took leave of his 
 congregation in an address, which was published 
 soon after in the " Universalist Watchman," at 
 Montpelier, Vt. The following is from his Journal 
 of that date: " Preached my farewell discourse 
 to the Society in Hartland. The congregation 
 was very large, and many tears were shed. Oh ! 
 it was hard to tell them that I must go away 
 when I could see regret manifested in the moist- 
 ened eye, and hear its language in sobs and sighs !
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 37 
 
 It may be that I have erred in thinking it best to 
 leave this good people at this time ; but if I have, 
 I shall find a ready excuse in the sentiment of a 
 world's experience, that ' to err is human.' " 
 
 On the following Tuesday, in company with 
 several friends who had joined him for that pur- 
 pose, he started for Readsboro' with the remains 
 of his wife and child. An excellent and appro- 
 priate funeral discourse was delivered by Rev. H. 
 F. Ballou, from the text, "Be ye reconciled to 
 God :" in which he urged that the only ground of 
 reconciliation for the afflicted is the deep-wrought 
 conviction that all things are under the control of 
 a supreme and all-perfect Ruler, who will surely 
 work out, by their instrumentality, the highest 
 possible good for all his creatures. Even in those 
 cases, therefore, where no reasons for suffering are 
 visible, there should be the most entire confidence 
 and trust, that it is demanded by a wisdom that 
 cannot err, and a goodness that cannot be un- 
 kind. 
 
 The following picture from Sanford's Journal 
 closes this sad scene : 
 
 " Before the remains of my dear wife and child 
 
 were deposited in their final resting-place, I 
 
 thought that I must see them, that I might know 
 
 the condition in which time and the journey had 
 
 4*
 
 38 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 left them. 0, saddest picture in the book of mem- 
 ory ! I had previously fortified my mind with 
 the unavoidable conviction that corruption must 
 have made sad havoc with those once beautiful 
 objects ; and I had instructed my moral feelings in 
 the sublime and cheering truth, that these forms 
 were but the caskets, which must turn to dust, 
 while the jewels which once dwelt in them, and 
 offered me so many attractions, and gave me so 
 much joy, are garnered up in Heaven, where I 
 shall eternally enjoy them, after I have put off this 
 tabernacle of the flesh ; and had I not, my feelings 
 could never have endured the sight. The form 
 of the upper part of their faces was left, so as to 
 be quite easily detected, but that was nearly all. 
 ' Alas !' said I to myself, ' I have seen an end of 
 all perfection ! I have beheld these decaying rel- 
 ics when clothed in beauty and radiant with the 
 smiles of love. I have seen them move in the 
 gayest scenes, and witnessed the gladness with 
 which they enjoyed the beauties of nature, or 
 mingled with the society of their kindred. But I 
 see now their end. I see now that corruption is 
 their father, and the worm their sister and their 
 brother. And this is the doom of all. None 
 wearing the human form, however beautiful, rich, 
 or great, can escape. All that now live, and all
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 39 
 
 that come after us in the long march of time, must 
 submit to a like destiny. I have therefore seen 
 an end of all perfection.' 
 
 " But, blessed be God ! light breaks in upon even 
 this scene. This is not the final denouement in the 
 drama of being. True, it is an end, but the end is 
 not yet. ' THIS MORTAL MUST PUT ON IMMORTAL- 
 ITY'! Thanks be to God who giveth me the 
 victory !" 
 
 On the banks of one of the pleasant little streams 
 that weave their silver threads through the south- 
 ern borders of Readsboro', in a quiet and secluded 
 spot, interspersed with forest trees, was planted a 
 modest marble slab, bearing the following in- 
 scription : 
 
 JOANNA E., 
 
 WIFE OF 
 
 REV. MERRITT SANFORD, 
 
 AGED 23 YEARS, 
 
 WITH M. SPURZHEIM, THEIR ONLY CHILD, 
 
 AGED 6 MONTHS AND 14 DAYS. . 
 
 Both died in Hartland, Vt., June 3d, 1840. 
 Interred here Jan. 7th, 1841. 
 
 The remainder of the winter was passed, as he 
 proposed, among his relatives in his native and the 

 
 40 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 adjoining towns. Much of his time was spent in 
 reading and study, and for most of the Sabbaths 
 he preached in the region round about. One was 
 passed at home, to which I find the following 
 allusion : 
 
 " Sunday. This is the first Sabbath which I 
 have spent without either preaching or going to 
 meeting for several years, and I wish it might be 
 the last for several years to come. I love the 
 sanctuary. I there hear truths of God, Jesus 
 Christ, duty, and immortality ; and these, I verily 
 believe, when heard in the tones of the Divine 
 oracles, are the great levers by which the moral 
 world will be raised from corruption and degrada- 
 tion to virtue, holiness, and Heaven." 
 
 Very little of his reading was given to the lighter 
 works in literature. Indeed, I never knew one of 
 his intellect and taste who cared less for them. 
 The better class of Reviews, Quarterlies, &c., with 
 the works of standard authors on religion, science, 
 and philosophy, were the most eagerly devoured 
 of any ; especially such as had any direct bearing 
 on intellectual or moral improvement. lie received 
 several invitations to settle with societies in dif- 
 ferent places ; from Brattleboro' and Springfield, 
 Vt., and from Hinsdale, Winchester, and Man- 
 chester, N. H. The call from the society in the
 
 
 MINISTRY IN HARTLAND. 41 
 
 latter place was peculiarly flattering, and would 
 doubtless have been accepted, had he not just pre- 
 viously preached as a candidate in Middletown, Ct., 
 and given some encouragement to the friends 
 there that he might accept an invitation from them. 
 Their official call was received by him in April' 
 and his labors there as pastor commenced early 
 in May.
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 
 
 HE entered upon his labors in this new field with 
 considerable diffidence. He questioned seriously 
 his adaptation to the place, and his qualifications 
 to meet the peculiar wants of the society and the 
 cause in this region. A few remarks in his Journal, 
 while on a previous visit as a candidate for settle- 
 ment, contain allusions to this fact. 
 
 "March 28th, 1841. Preached again in Mid- 
 dletown. Suited my mind better than I did be- 
 fore, though the delicacy of feeling arising from 
 the idea that I am on trial, cramps me, and pre- 
 vents the free play of my powers. I know that it 
 is foolish to feel so, but I also know several other 
 things which I cannot prevent ! I think it doubt- 
 ful whether I shall have an invitation to settle 
 here. And if I do, I doubt whether I shall accept 
 it. It seems to me that my manner of preaching 
 is not so well adapted to this region as it is to 
 Vermont or Massachusetts. The cause has not 
 progressed so far. There is need of more combat- 
 iveness and destructiveness : and although I can
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 43 
 
 meet opposition when necessity requires,* yet I 
 prefer to dwell amidst more peaceful and heaven- 
 ly elements, especially in my present state of 
 mind. And I really question within myself 
 whether I ought to settle anywhere at present." 
 
 * An incident illustrative of this, had occurred at about the 
 same time. In the interval between the two Saboaths which 
 he spent in Middletown, he visited New Haven, and one even- 
 ing listened to the tirade of the celebrated Elder Knapp, 
 against Universalism. " Never before," says he, " did I hear 
 such misrepresentation, falsehood, and abuse, from the pulpit, 
 and I hope I never may again. Univers'alist preachers were 
 called, repeatedly, ' imps of hell,' ' fools,' ' ignoramuses,' and 
 ' servants of the Devil :' besides, his perversions of their faith, 
 and his stories about their conduct, were too bad to be endured. 
 My spirit was so stirred within me, that I called him to ac- 
 count, and demanded facts to sustain some of his statements. 
 But he would not obey this demand of duty. He knew, with- 
 out doubt, that he had taken false ground ; and it was a mat- 
 ter of no wonder that I was not to be heard." The following 
 day, some of our friends, pleased with the position taken by 
 Brother S., got out handbills and circulated the notice jthrough 
 the city, that he would preach in one of the Halls that even- 
 ing. Though many of the bills posted up were torn down, 
 yet the excitement was so great that the, hall was crowded at 
 an early hour. He spoke upward of an hour and a half, with 
 great freedom and power : 1. Showing that the great lead- 
 ing principles of Christianity are as held by Universalists. 
 2. Contrasting these, with the statements made by Elder K., 
 correcting his misrepresentations ; and 3. Examining some of 
 his silly and wicked stories, proving them false from the foun- 
 dation. It was a masterly effort, and helped our cause much 
 in New Haven.
 
 44 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 The severe visitation of Providence which he 
 had experienced, still weighed heavily upon his 
 spirits. It haunted his waking hours with oppress- 
 ive thoughts, and his sleep with visions of de- 
 parted joy. 
 
 I cannot withhold the following allusion to it in 
 his Journl : 
 
 " May 12th. For three nights past I have had 
 vivid dreams of seeing my wife and child. This 
 has afforded me a kind of melancholy pleasure 
 the more melancholy on account of their ap- 
 pearing to me as in sickness and suffering. O, 
 ye images of purity and loveliness ! I wel- 
 come your visitations to the veiled sanctuary of 
 my heart : but I would that ye could come in the 
 cheerfulness of eternal health and happiness 
 But even in your sufferings, ye appear pleasant 
 and lovely as angels ; for I see you in imagination 
 as I have seen you in reality, serene and placid 
 amidst the most violent ragings of disease, and ex- 
 hibiting such patience and fortitude as seemed to 
 indicate that your minds were cast in a heavenly 
 mould ! May a remembrance of your charms go 
 with me forever ! Ye are the purest lights that 
 have hitherto shone in my pathway, and without 
 you the future still looks too dark for my endu- 
 rance !"
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOVVN. 45 
 
 I well remember, at about this time, we spent 
 a very pleasant day together at the hospitable 
 and friendly home of Rev. John Moore, then pas- 
 tor of the church in Hartford. Sanford had just 
 listened to a couple of Lectures from the famous 
 
 0. A. Brownson, with whom we had a brief inter- 
 view. Brownson's philosophy at that time had 
 just passed into the phase of a violent eclecticism. 
 He maintained, in his usually dogmatic and arro- 
 gant manner, that there were vital elements of 
 truth at the basis of all generally-received opinions, 
 however discordant or contradictory, and conse- 
 quently, that no dogma of a sect or party could be 
 entirely false. His lectures, however, just referred 
 to, were on other topics. 1. " The Democracy of 
 Christianity." 2. " The Reform Spirit of the Age 
 its good and its bad." Of the first of these, 
 Sanford spoke very highly. He thought that 
 the lecturer succeeded admirably in answering 
 
 1. "Those who objected to Democracy because 
 they thought it anti-Christian;" and 2. "Those 
 who objected to Christianity because they thought 
 it anti-democratic ;" by showing that pure Chris- 
 tianity was purely democratic, using the term only 
 in its philosophical signification. 
 
 The second lecture fee was not pleased with. 
 "My principal objection to it," he remarked, " is," 
 5
 
 46 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 that he spoke disparagingly of the benefits of edu- 
 cation ; and after demolishing the systems which 
 other men had proposed for the amelioration of 
 the world, he left his hearers without a proper 
 substitute." Sanford was an ardent, though a 
 very candid and prudent reformer. He had some 
 enthusiasm, though he could bear neither fanaticism, 
 nor the cold, skeptical rationality of Brownson.* 
 In the Temperance and Anti- Slavery movements, 
 he was especially interested ; and in his earnest, 
 
 * At a subsequent period, his Journal contains the following: 
 " Finished reading ' Charles Elwood, or the Infidel Converted.' 
 By O. A. Brownson. Brownson has formerly been an infidel, 
 bat now professes to be a Christian. This book was written 
 to detail his own experience, and let the world know his pres- 
 ent views of Christianity. The work is written in a bold, sim- 
 ple, and eloquent style, and there are many things in it which I 
 highly admire. But the general train of thought running 
 through it, or the author's theory of philosophy, I cannot ap- 
 prove. It is too speculative and mystical to suit me. If I 
 understand it, it is a kind of Gorman philosophy, which would 
 convert Christianity into an undesigned, though fortunate pro- 
 duction of nature, and immortality into an inheritance of post- 
 humous fame. In a word, tho professed and boasted Chris- 
 tianity of Brownson appears to me to be nothing better than a 
 Christianized Pantheism, virtually denying tho identity of 
 God, and of Christ 5 and resolving God, Christ, Man, and Na- 
 ture, into one mass of ' confusion worse confounded.' I shall 
 bo glad to be disappointed ; but I fear that it is so, and that 
 Christianity will suffer from it in this country, as it has in Ger- 
 many."
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 47 
 
 but catholic spirit, labored for both. Of the lat- 
 ter, he said but very little in public, though I find 
 his name among the officers of an Anti-Slavery 
 organization in Hartland, Vt., and it is well known 
 among those familiar with him, that he was a zeal- 
 ous and able public advocate of the former. 
 
 Having become fairly settled in Middletown, he 
 was invited to take a share in the editorship of the 
 " Universalist," a paper published in that city, by 
 Mr. Conklin, and devoted to the exposition and 
 defence of Universalism. He wrote much for it, 
 and many of his contributions were among the 
 most valuable it contained. But he was too la- 
 bored a writer for popular reading. He could not 
 dash off a racy article or a piquant paragraph 
 easily, and was not, therefore, the best fitted to the 
 work of an editor of a popular weekly journal. 
 He was much better as an essayist. 
 
 As a sermonizer, there was still a very evident 
 improvement going on, and a far greater number 
 of his discourses were practical, and devoted to 
 moral and spiritual topics : perhaps too much so 
 for the peculiar wants of that society at that time. 
 It had but recently commenced its existence. 
 Many of the congregation were not fully instructed 
 in the doctrine of the Gospel, or its evidences. 
 And, as he suggested, I think that the prevailing
 
 48 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 tone of his sermonizing would have been better 
 adapted to a region in which the cause had been 
 longer established. His services, however, were 
 for the most part highly appreciated, and he won 
 his warmest personal friends from among the most 
 intelligent and excellent men of the city. 
 
 la many respects his circumstances at this pe- 
 riod were highly favorable to his personal enjoy- 
 ment. He had a young but growing society, em- 
 bracing several families of high culture and refine- 
 ment. The town was one of the most beautiful of 
 all the charming ones that gem the valley of the 
 Connecticut ; and to one who enjoyed as deeply 
 as he the serenity of calm natural scenery, asso- 
 ciated with much architectural taste and beauty, 
 it formed a delightful place of residence. His in- 
 come, too, though not so much as he was offered 
 by the society in Manchester, N. H., was still, for 
 the first time in his ministry, enough for his com- 
 fortable subsistence, leaving means for quite an in- 
 crease to his library. But, notwithstanding these 
 outward sources of enjoyment, shadows still rested 
 upon his spirit ; sad memories came freshly to his 
 thoughts, and a deep feeling of loneliness pervaded 
 his heart. And yet that heart was veiled to most 
 eyes. Not from the slightest insincerity, but 
 rather from a sense of duty.
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 49 
 
 He would neither trouble others with his sor- 
 rows, nor court sympathy by their frequent exhibi- 
 tion. His appearance was for the most part quite 
 cheerful, and often highly so, particularly in the 
 social circle, and few among the many who enjoy- 
 ed his conversation ever dreamed that he carried 
 underneath that pleasant exterior a hidden sorrow 
 that he must bear to his grave. Only to a few 
 very intimate friends, or upon the pages of his 
 Journal, that were closed to the public eye, did he 
 give clear and frequent exposure to the fact ; and 
 then always in the spirit of Christian humility and 
 trust. The following is another specimen : 
 
 "June 3. To-day makes a year since death 
 took from me all that I held most dear. I would 
 not murmur at my fate, but this has seemed to be 
 the longest and the least happy year that I have 
 ever spent. It is true that I have been blessed 
 with friends true and faithful, and I have not been 
 without many sources of enjoyment, for all of 
 which I wish to be grateful ; but even amidst the 
 brightest hours and the most pleasurable scenes, 
 images of the pure and lovely creatures I have 
 lost come crowding into my thoughts, and poison 
 the purest and highest sources of earthly joy. 
 
 " What the year to come may bring forth is known 
 only to Him who knoweth all things, but it ap- 
 5*
 
 50 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 pears to me that nothing worse can befall me, even 
 though death should summon me away. 
 
 " ' If that high world which lies beyond 
 
 Our own, surviving love endears ; 
 If there the cherished heart be fond, 
 
 The eye the same except in tears 
 How welcome those untrodden spheres ! 
 
 How sweet this very hour to die ! 
 To soar from earth and find all fears 
 
 Lost in thy light Eternity. 
 
 '"It must be so : 'tis not for self 
 
 That we so tremble on the brink ; 
 And striving to o'erleap the gulf, 
 
 Yet cling to Being's severing link. 
 Oh ! in that future let us think 
 
 To hold each heart the heart that shares, 
 With them the immortal waters drink, 
 
 And soul in soul grow deathless theirs !' 
 
 "For some time I have been thinking that I would 
 attempt to describe the character and amiable 
 qualities of my departed wife, and record them in 
 this Journal ; but as yet I have not even dared to 
 attempt the work. I could not express my con- 
 victions of the value of her social and moral char- 
 acter without creating the suspicion in all who 
 might hereafter see it, that my estimate of her 
 virtues was formed under the influence of a selfish 
 and blind partiality ; and I certainly could not 
 speak of her except in terms of unmeasured com- 
 mendation. Her name and her memory will ever
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 51 
 
 be associated in my mind with everything that is 
 tender, meek, humble, affectionate, and Christian. 
 For delicacy and quickness of feeling, and at the 
 same time for equanimity of temper, I have never 
 known her equal, and probably never shall. 
 Though I was not permitted to live with her quite 
 four years, I am indebted to her for the moral and 
 religious influence which she breathed into my 
 mind and feelings as I am indebted to none other 
 except the Son of God. In all her domestic con- 
 cerns she was cheerful and pleasant : in suffering, 
 patient and uncomplaining ; and in the prospect 
 of death, peaceful and happy. Happily for her, 
 she had been brought up in the nurture of a faith 
 through which she viewed her Saviour as 'the 
 Saviour of the world,' and I have often heard her 
 say that she never knew what it was to fear death, 
 or anything beyond it. And when the dark mes- 
 senger came, she was as composed and tranquil as 
 a child in the arms of its parent ; and but a few 
 moments before she breathed her last, pressing 
 her pale, cold lips to my cheek, she said in the 
 most tender and affectionate tone, ' Merritt, do 
 not weep, it will all be well.' 
 
 " Yes, I will hope that 'all will be well,' but 
 I must weep. Yet will I weep in hope. Through 
 my tears will I look forward to the time when I
 
 52 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 shall meet thee and that cherub child in the bright 
 and fadeless realms of immortality." 
 
 Little of interest occurred, that I have space to 
 notice, during the remainder of this summer. At 
 the session of the Connecticut State Convention, 
 which was held at Middletown, in August, his in- 
 stallation took place ; and he very soon after made 
 a journey to Vermont, to visit his relatives and 
 former parishioners, returning in season to attend 
 the United States Convention, in New York, in 
 September. At the meeting of the latter body 
 he delivered an excellent sermon, which was sub- 
 sequently published in a neat volume, embracing 
 all the discourses preached on the occasion. These 
 journeyings at a pleasant season of the year, and 
 the interesting religious gatherings connected with 
 them, served to restore in some good degree his 
 former cheerfulness of mind and elasticity of spir- 
 its, and his pastoral labors and duties were entered 
 into with a greater readiness and zeal. . 
 
 "Oct. 11. My birth-day. Twenty-nine years ! 
 So long have I been a breathing creature, to say the 
 least, if there has been no mistake in dates. How 
 much of that time I have thought, would be a hard 
 question to answer ; and how much of that time I 
 have thought right, and done right, might be a 
 still harder one. Oh ! when one thinks of himself,
 
 MINISTRY TN MIDDLETOWN. 53 
 
 how little cause has he for pride ! When I look 
 back upon what I have been, I see that my being 
 commenced in littleness, as it were in nothing, 
 and that I have held it by a precarious tenure 
 resting seemingly upon a thread almost as feeble 
 as a spider's web ; and what is still more humilia- 
 ting to me, especially while in a moral mood 
 and I would be so continually I see that the 
 greater part of my life has been little more than 
 an animal life, devoted to eating, drinking, and 
 sleeping, if not to folly, instead of being a highly 
 intellectual and moral existence. And then, too, 
 my life has not been all sunshine and flowers : it 
 has been a series of difficulties and trials ; though 
 I would not complain of a hard fate, nor murmur 
 against Providence. The past is filled with les- 
 sons to make me humble ; and if I venture an eye 
 toward the future, what can I see ? Ah, nothing ! 
 I cannot penetrate the veil that shrouds the fu- 
 ture. I ' walk by faith ;' and this is, after all, prob- 
 ably the safest way for me to walk. * * * * 
 And does not faith tell me that all those things at 
 which I sometimes complain will yet turn out to 
 my advantage ? Does it not assure me that I am 
 a being of progress, and that the mixed vicissitudes 
 of life are ordained as the elements of my disci- 
 pline to raise me up from littleness to greatness ;
 
 54 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 from an infant to a man ; from a man to an angel ? 
 So I read in Revelation and in nature. O, bless- 
 ed faith ! May I live in its spirit ; in resignation 
 to the seeming evils of my lot, and act in agree- 
 ment with its purpose, in performing the duties 
 which it imposes. Then shall I live and act wor- 
 thy of myself and of the place assigned me in 
 creation. The Lord grant me light and strength 
 to do so ia future, more fully than I have in the 
 past !" 
 
 " Oct. 27. Had some conversation with H 
 S , on religion. He would not admit that there 
 was any religion different or distinct from morality ; 
 and with still greater regret, I found him to be a 
 Pantheist, confounding God with the universe; 
 and still worse, he assured me that some of my 
 brethren in the ministry confessed, though in 
 confidence, that they agreed with him in his views 
 of God !* * * * These things give me a pain 
 which I cannot express. If these views are true, 
 
 * I can hardly credit this statomontofMr.il S . Our 
 ministry is too poor to pay the price asked by hypocrisy. An 
 infidel, or Pantheistic clergyman, would bo most likely to 
 eek the more popular and wealthy sects. There was one, 
 however, in our ministry at that time, in this State, who, I 
 am prepared to believe from his subsequent history, might 
 have made such an admission. I doubt there having been any 
 other.
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 55 
 
 I must throw away my Bible, my highest incen- 
 tives to virtue, and my hope of immortality. I 
 cannot do it. My head and my heart rise up 
 against it." 
 
 It was about this period that he commenced the 
 study of authors on Geology, a science to the in- 
 vestigation of which he finally devoted much time 
 with absorbing interest and attachment. Having 
 incidentally fallen into the company of Professor 
 Silliman, he was attracted to a perusal of his 
 " Appendix to Bakewell's Geology ;" and with 
 that part of it which discusses the connection be- 
 tween the science and revealed religion, he was 
 particularly pleased. It excited him to pursue the 
 subject with the impression that its facts would be 
 found to correspond to, and confirm the sacred 
 history. He also read an article of Prof. Hitch- 
 cock's, on " The Connection between Geology and 
 Natural Religion;" and "though I am not ac- 
 quainted," says he, " with the details of this in- 
 teresting science, (which I very much regret), I 
 think that the article is very able. He contends, 
 and it appears to me proves, that Geology adds 
 new light to natural religion. 1. By furnishing 
 evidence of direct and repeated acts of creative 
 power. 2. By furnishing proofs both of a general 
 and special Providence. 3. By furnishing numer-
 
 56 MEMOIR OP SANFORD. 
 
 ous illustrations of the Divine Benevolence ; and 
 4. By enlarging our conceptions of the plans of 
 the Deity." 
 
 To these he added immediately another admi- 
 rable article from Prof. H. on " Geology and Rev- 
 elation," published in the 5th vol. of the " Amer- 
 ican Biblical Repository," in which he maintains 
 that they agree : " 1 . In teaching that the material 
 universe had a beginning. 2. In regard to the 
 agents which have been employed in effecting the 
 changes that have taken place in the matter of the 
 globe since its creation viz. : water and fire. 
 3. They both represent the earth as having once 
 been submerged beneath the ocean. 4. In 
 teaching that the work of creation was progres- 
 sive, after the creation of matter. . In the fact 
 that man was the last of the animals created. 6. 
 In the fact that it is but comparatively a recent 
 period since man was placed upon the earth. 7. 
 In representing the surface of the globe to have 
 been swept by a general deluge, at a period not 
 very remote. And, 8. He imagines that there 
 may be an agreement in regard to the final disso- 
 lution or destruction of the earth. Still, he ad- 
 mits that there is a seeming discrepancy between 
 Geology and Revelation, though chiefly in regard 
 to chronology ; a topic which he has discussed in
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 57 
 
 the 6th vol. of the Rep., but which I have not 
 read." 
 
 " Nov. 5. On looking over dates, I find that I 
 have been in this place six months ; or rather, that 
 I have preached here twenty-six Sabbaths. What 
 can I now say of my location ? Not what I wish 
 I could. Considering its age, I think the society 
 quite a good one, but have not found so much 
 Universalism here as I expected. And besides, 
 the doctrine being but little known, the taste for 
 preaching is, I think, for the combative style, 
 and it has seemed to me that some of my best, 
 most evangelical sermons, have not been realized. 
 Perhaps the fatilf is in me ; I can only give my 
 impressions. Much of the time I have been here 
 I have been lonely and low-spirited, except when 
 absorbed in study, * * * and I have no one to 
 whom I can unbosom myself, and with whom 
 to sympathize." 
 
 A few days after, an incident occurred concern- 
 ing which I ought to speak cautiously, and yet 
 which I cannot well overlook, as it had in the end 
 not only a powerful influence on his feelings, but 
 entered largely into the causes that finally induced 
 his permanent separation from the society. 
 
 Attempts were making for a united Temperance 
 movement among the various churches in the city. 
 6
 
 58 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 . It was proposed to have a series of lectures on 
 the subject, one from each of the clergymen ; and 
 two of the deacons of different Orthodox churches 
 called on him to solicit his co-operation. He as- 
 sured them that he had for years been deeply in- 
 terested in the proposed reform, and that he had 
 no objection to complying with their invitation. 
 Consequently, at the close of the service on the 
 following Sunday, he invited the members of his 
 society to tarry for a moment ; laid the facts be- 
 fore them, and submitted the question, whether 
 as a body they could participate in the movement, 
 and open their house of worship to Temperance 
 Lectures ? 
 
 " Greatly to my regret," says he, " I found 
 only a small minority in favor of it, the most of 
 them pleading that the effort was a political and 
 sectarian one, and that this step had been taken 
 by our religious opposers to injure the society ! I 
 saw that the feeling was so strong that nothing 
 could be done, and thought it best to submit with 
 all the patience and resignation in my power." 
 
 On receiving a second call from the Temper- 
 ance Committee, he concluded to give a lecture 
 when his turn came, if a place could be found for 
 it, and promised, at any personal sacrifice, to aid 
 the cause what he could. ' He regarded it as pre-
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 59 
 
 eminently a good cause ; and felt that if he had 
 fallen into a place where he could not freely utter 
 his thoughts upon such subjects without giving 
 offence, his convictions of duty would require him 
 to seek an atmosphere more congenial to his taste 
 and feelings. His conclusion was : "I have said 
 to myself that I will be a man, and, if possible, d 
 Christian, leaving results to God !" 
 
 "Dec. 13. Read Channing's two discourses on 
 the Evidences of Christianity. I think them truly 
 excellent. There is at once a candor and clear- 
 ness ; a willingness to hear objections, and a sim- 
 plicity and force in answering them, and in the 
 treatment of his whole great subject, which is 
 rarely to be found in any writer; and his argu- 
 ments appear so philosophical and conclusive, as 
 seem sufficient to convince any candid and intelli- 
 gent mind that Christianity is and must have been 
 Divine in its origin. 
 
 " When I compare it with the systems which 
 men have formed, and survey the age in which it 
 commenced its benevolent mission, and see how 
 free it was from selfishness, littleness, and crime, 
 how it rose above the whole world in its views 
 of God, duty, and destiny and how it has ever 
 shone brighter from being examined, I have often 
 said to myself, as Channing here says to the world,
 
 60 MEMOIR OF 8ANFORD. 
 
 'I cannot reconcile these facts with a human 
 origin.' " 
 
 " Dec. 14. Heard Rev. Leonard Bacon, of New 
 Haven, give a good lecture on self-education. He 
 defined it to be the continued exercise and unfold- 
 ing of the whole powers of the whole man. He 
 said that the greatest mark of distinction between 
 the lower orders of creatures and man is, that he 
 alone has the power of self-culture. * * * * 
 He pointed out a course of study to be pursued 
 by a man who would make the most of himself. 
 
 " 1. He would have him learn to read, write, 
 and cipher, well. These are the keys to univer- 
 sal knowledge. 
 
 " 2. He should learn Geography and History. 
 These he must study together, or he will learn 
 neither to any great profit. 
 
 " 3. He must acquaint himself with moral and 
 political philosophy ; not that he should devote 
 himself to what are vulgarly called party politics, 
 for this would be small business ; but he should 
 learn the principles of the government under which 
 he lives, and of other states and countries ; inves- 
 tigate their bearings on the people, and then in- 
 quire into the right and wrong of all great ques- 
 tions agitating his country. 
 
 "4. He should study the English language : first,
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 61 
 
 by its grammar ; and secondly, by constantly using 
 a good dictionary, (Webster's is the best, for it 
 gives the exact meaning of words) ; and thirdly, 
 by reading a few choice standard authors. 
 
 " 5. He should make the physical sciences mat- 
 ters of study ; not that he must be a complete 
 master of them ; but he can and should know 
 what are their leading principles. Astronomy, 
 Chemistry, Geology, and Physiology, were espe- 
 cially mentioned, and the advantages of knowing 
 something of them briefly and eloquently de- 
 scribed." 
 
 The subject of Temperance again came up. The 
 community was much excited in regard to it. 
 The time was approaching when the question of 
 license was to be acted on at the ballot-box ; and 
 there was much division of opinion, and some 
 warm feeling on both sides in regard to it. Many 
 of the best men in the society, though friends of 
 Temperance, feared that its public discussion by 
 their pastor, under the circumstances, would create 
 strong disaffection, and probably a division and 
 separation of the Society ; and though he would 
 not relinquish the prospect of ultimately speaking 
 upon the subject, yet he agreed to postpone his 
 promised lecture for a time, and requested three 
 of his piincipal friends to communicate the facts 
 6*
 
 62 MEMOIR OP SANFORD. 
 
 to the Committee of the Temperance Society as 
 his excuse. 
 
 " Dec. 31. Here closes the year 1841. It has 
 been to me a year of uncommon conflict, labor, 
 and trial. It would be the grossest ingratitude 
 in me not to confess that I have been blessed with 
 much of prosperity, but several things have con- 
 spired to render the year that is now gone one of 
 peculiar trial to me." Among these he mentions 
 the sad memory of his one great loss : " over 
 which his heart still continued to sigh ;" and pass- 
 es to speak of his sorrows and difficulties with his 
 Society. 
 
 He alludes very feelingly to the hopes and ex- 
 pectations with which he settled there : pays very 
 high compliments to many individuals and families 
 in his parish, but expresses his disappointment 
 that the society in general was not in some re- 
 spects what he thought it should be that it had 
 too little warm love for religion ; too much fond- 
 ness for anti-Orthodox preaching ; and too little 
 for that which was designed only to build up truth 
 and virtue facts that rendered him but poorly 
 reconciled to his situation. Doubtless his injured 
 feelings at the time in regard to the Temperance 
 cause, his somewhat melancholy mood of mind, 
 and his extreme sensitiveness and loyalty to what
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLE-TOWN. 63 
 
 he considered duty, might have helped to give the 
 facts a darker coloring to his thoughts than they 
 deserved ; and most certain I am that he left not 
 one word on record that was designed to reflect 
 unjustly on a single human being. He concludes 
 his remarks thus : " But notwithstanding all my 
 disappointments and trials, I have hope in God, 
 and the most unshaken confidence in virtue in 
 true Christianity. With this hope, and this reli- 
 ance, I continue my efforts in faithfulness to my 
 mission, under the conviction that ' in due season 
 I shall reap, if I faint not.' " 
 
 "Jan. 1. A New Year! 1842! * * * Well, 
 so be it. Let time pass. The world was not 
 made to stand still. Changes, decay, and Death, 
 are all necessary. The fact that they make us 
 think, and sigh, and weep, is not the least of the 
 evidences which we have of their value and utility. 
 Poor creatures should we be, doubtless, if we were 
 governors of the world. We should command its 
 sun to stand still ; stop the progress of time, de- 
 cay, ruin, and death ; and with them we should 
 stop ourselves ! When shall we, poor mortals, 
 learn to be wise? God governs right. So the 
 Scriptures teach, and we should believe it, if we 
 thought right and acted right. Time's changes, 
 dark and fearful as they sometimes are, have a
 
 64 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 Divine mission. They are the ordained elements 
 of our discipline and improvement. Thanks to the 
 Ruler so I am learning. I say it not boasting- 
 ly, but in humility, and with a thankfulness which 
 my heart feels. I have drank deeply of affliction. 
 For a time, I thought the draught too bitter to 
 bear, but it has been gradually ministering to my 
 spiritual health. It has served to wean me from 
 the passing and perishing things of time ; to 
 chasten and elevate my moral feelings ; to give a 
 quicker and deeper sense of sorrow for the suffer- 
 ings of my race ; caused me to take more thought 
 for ' the inner man of the heart,' and the true 
 sources of happiness ; and inspired me with a 
 stronger relish for ' the bread of life which came 
 down from heaven, and giveth life unto the 
 world.' 
 
 "The time has been, when I looked upon afflic- 
 tion with fear and trembling ; but I believe that I 
 can now say, that that time is passed. I have 
 learned who it is that uses the rod, and what it is 
 used for. It is in the hand of a Father, and he 
 never employs it but for the correction and benefit 
 of his children. My chief concern now is, that I 
 bear its inflictions with patience, fortitude, and res- 
 ignation ; and that it realize in me its Divine pur- 
 pose, in chastening and purifying my feelings ; in
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 65 
 
 elevating my views and hopes of immortality, and 
 thus prepare me for the fulfillment of the object of 
 my being. But, that this may be accomplished, 
 I have something to do. It will not be enough that 
 I am passive. I must act. I must consider and 
 second the means of Providence in this work, and 
 make it my chief business to bring my whole na- 
 ture into accordance with the laws, requirements, 
 and will of my Maker. 
 
 " To this work, 1 may I be more faithful during 
 the New Year, than I have been during the old 
 
 one. I will try to keep the words of the poet in 
 
 . j 
 
 mind : 
 
 ' Count that day lost, whose low descending sun 
 Views from thy hand, no worthy action done.' " 
 
 For the three months following he was, as usual, 
 veiy diligently employed in the duties of his sta- 
 tion : writing, as was his general custom, an aver- 
 age of almost two sermons per week, besides much 
 for the paper ; attending also with tolerable faith- 
 fulness to his pastoral duties, though, like many 
 other good men and hard students, he was never 
 famous for making frequent calls on his parishioners 
 and still finding time for a considerable amount 
 of reading. " Guizot's History of Civilization," 
 "Channing's Works," The Works of Taylor 
 " Natural History of Society," et cet., " Dewey's
 
 66 MEMOIR OF 3ANFORU. 
 
 Discourses," " Caldwell's Essays on Phrenology," 
 and " Jouffroy's Introduction to Ethics," were em- 
 braced in it, besides " The American Eclectic," 
 ," Boston Quarterly," " Biblical Repository," and 
 other lighter works ; preparing during this time, 
 and delivering a lecture before the Franklin Insti- 
 tute, and a lecture on Temperance in Portland, in 
 addition to preaching three times on each Sab- 
 bath for the most part, and attending to a Bible 
 class on one evening in the week. Indeed, this 
 was little more than an ordinary specimen of the 
 labor he performed, and the greater part of it gen- 
 erally was well done. 
 
 I have suggested that in the earlier part of his 
 ministry there was a tendency to regard religion 
 as addressed chiefly to the intellect, and reasoning 
 from those great fundamental principles which are 
 first seized on by the theblogical student, it seem- 
 ed the clearest result of logic that there was no 
 such thing as evil in -the sight of God ; that all 
 things, even the most minute, being in existence 
 from his deliberate choice, must in the highest 
 sense be perfectly good. This mode of argument- 
 ation was fallen into very easily from the frequen- 
 cy with which he had been called on to deduce 
 the ultimate happiness of all from the supremacy 
 and will of God. But a gradual change, not so
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 67 
 
 much in his opinions, as his course of study and 
 habits of thought, now commenced, which kept on 
 increasing until it had finally affected some of his 
 views very materially. 
 
 His combative propensities were never very 
 strong, and though possessing a somewhat logical 
 mind, and a fondness for reasoning, he soon felt a 
 growing distaste for a merely anti-Orthodox the- 
 ology. His tastes became more spiritual, his stud- 
 ies turned to the moral bearings of Christianity, 
 and his sermonizing became more generally ad- 
 dressed to the conscience and sense of duty. The 
 reading of Jouffroy, and some other similar au- 
 thors, at just this period, highly encouraged this 
 tendency, and indeed compelled him at last to face 
 that inexplicable problem, born of the reason and 
 conscience, viz. : Divine Sovereignty and Human 
 Accountability. 
 
 The facts of his moral nature, in the light of 
 consciousness ; his conscience, the crowning excel- 
 lency of his soul, all assured him, as with a Di- 
 vine overpowering voice, that he was a moral, ac- 
 countable being ; and reason answered, " God is 
 sovereign, and there can be no will but his* own !" 
 This conflict between reason and the moral feel- 
 ings, which goes on, doubtless, to some extent in 
 the minds of most men, can hardly be said to have
 
 68 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 terminated in his case during life, but it changed 
 the relative position of his articles of faith. The 
 grand idea of human destiny as held by Universal- 
 ists, the great central truth of the Gospel, was 
 still believed as firmly, and cherished as dearly by 
 him as ever ; perhaps more so, as affliction had 
 taught him its value ; but still it had brought up 
 the important idea of duty into the foreground of 
 the picture, had given it a prominence in his 
 thoughts, and made it an object of effort, far more 
 than it ever had been before. It became a favor- 
 ite conviction with him that the purpose of human 
 existence was purely moral, that life here was 
 merely a discipline, a primal school in which to 
 train us for immortality.* 
 
 In the month of April, he was again called to 
 test the efficacy of his faith under bereavement, in 
 the death of his oldest sister. It was another bit- 
 ter trial to him, and called out some of the higher 
 
 * The following represents the tone of his sermonizing at 
 this period. " So teach us to number our days," &c. " In mak- 
 ing this prayer, it is not enough that wo sincerely desire the 
 good intimated, it is of importance that wo have active faith 
 in God as our Teacher, the conviction that he mil so teach us 
 if we will t>ut become his scholars. And are we not already in 
 his school! What is this life but a school? What is the 
 world we inhabit but a Divine seminary, in which wo aro 
 placed for instruction and discipline 1" (Extract from a dis- 
 course on Ps. xo., 12.)
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 69 
 
 * 
 
 traits of his character. He was exceedingly fond 
 of her, and mourned much over her early depart- 
 ure, and the motherless little ones she had left, 
 at the same time giving utterance to his deep feel- 
 ings of, confidence and trust in God. A sermon on 
 ; ' Human Destiny," called out by this event, is one 
 of his most earnest declarations of faith and hope. 
 Neither he nor his sister, in passing through the 
 diseases incident to childhood, had encountered 
 the one most malignant to persons of maturer 
 years. Both had escaped the measles. He had 
 always dreaded the disease, and now that she had 
 died with it, his apprehensions were so increased 
 that he seemed to have a kind of premonition that 
 he should never survive its attack. Twice had he 
 been exposed to it within a few years, and in both 
 cases referred to it with anxiety : expressing in 
 one instance his earnest wish that when it did 
 come he might be in his father's house where he 
 could have a mother's care and sympathy. This 
 was the disease of which he finally died ! 
 
 Early in the spring of 1842, he began to feel 
 the premonitory symptoms of a bronchial affec- 
 tion, to which, however, he paid little heed, until 
 the first Sabbath in April ; when he remarks, that 
 " for several weeks I have had a difficulty in my 
 throat something, I fear, like the first stages of 
 7
 
 70 MEMOIR OP SANFORD. 
 
 bronchitis, which has troubled my speech ; and 1 
 feel it to-day more sensibly than at any other 
 time. I believe," he adds, " that I have spoken 
 too much lately, especially as I have had some- 
 thing of a cold about my lungs and throat." 
 
 During the intervening year between this period 
 and April, 1843, very little occurred in bis history 
 that I have space to notice. In September he 
 became a co- partner with Rev. John Moore, of 
 Hartford, in the purchase of the " Universalist," a 
 paper of which they had been for some time the 
 editors, and which they made a very interesting 
 and useful Journal ; though it is very doubtful 
 whether it increased their wealth very much. At 
 any rate, if it did not benefit them in any other 
 way, I am very sure that it was an important aid 
 to the cause of divine truth in this dark and bigot- 
 ed State. The following scrap from his Journal 
 must not be passed over, ns it indicates, in com- 
 mon with the general tone of his writings at the 
 time, a greater degree of cheerfulness than he had 
 previously enjoyed for a long period. 
 
 "March 1. Opened the County Court with a 
 prayer. Suited my mind better than I did a year 
 ago, but not as well as I could desire. I would 
 not be afraid of men, but when I stand up in the 
 presence of gray-haired judges, and hard-headed,
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 71 
 
 if not hard-hearted lawyers, I am almost dis- 
 posed to tremble." 
 
 Truly has Charming said, " Formerly Felix trem- 
 bled before Paul ; now the successor of Paul 
 trembles before Felix !" His throat had continued 
 to trouble him very much for the whole year, and 
 this spring seemed to be worse than ever. He 
 finally made up his mind to leave Middletown. 
 
 The principal reasons he assigned were 1 . The 
 condition of his throat requiring rest. 2. His un- 
 willingness to be fettered in regard to the subject 
 of Temperance. 3. His conviction that he was 
 unsuited to the wants of the people in this region, 
 and unable to perform the labor that the interests 
 of his Society demanded. 
 
 These I find in his Journal : though the letter 
 he sent to his Society in June, asking a dismission, 
 mentioned, as the chief cause, the condition of his 
 throat. Dr. Woodard had just operated on it, 
 cutting off the palate, hoping that might help him. 
 He was taking medicine for it from various physi- 
 cians, with but little advantage from any, except, 
 perhaps, a temporary relief from the use of some 
 botanic remedies. 
 
 He began to fear seriously that he should have 
 to abandon the ministry, perhaps entirely, and the 
 thought was very painful. He knew that his pro-
 
 72 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 fession was a toilsome, and in many respects a 
 thankless one, but still he loved it, ardently and 
 devoutly. Life would have been worth little to 
 him without opportunities for his favorite studies. 
 and these he could hardly hope to pursue to any 
 great extent if compelled to give up preaching. 
 At any rate, he must suspend his labors for a time, 
 and accordingly he tendered his resignation on 
 the 21st of June. 
 
 But as a dark and portentous cloud seemed 
 rising from this source to shadow if not ruin his 
 professional prospects, a bright sun from a clear 
 sky was at the same time dawning on his social 
 being. Once more he began to look forward to 
 all the domestic endearments and enjoyments of a 
 home. He had been forming a very pleasant ac- 
 quaintance with Miss Adeline Campbell, of Port- 
 land, a remarkably intelligent, accomplished, and 
 amiable lady, and promises of marriage had 
 already passed between them. 
 
 But as the legal sanction of their union was post- 
 poned to the early part of September, he still re- 
 mained with his Society, preaching the greater 
 share of the time until the close of August, when 
 leave of absence for six months was granted him. 
 and Rev. L. B. Mason employed to fill the desk 
 for that length of time. He took leave of his 

 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 73 
 
 people in a very touching and appropriate address 
 on the first Sunday in September, contributed 
 $100* to the Society on settling with it to be 
 appropriated to repairs on their house of worship 
 paid $50 to have the " Universalist" taken off his 
 hands was married on the 13th, and immediately 
 started with his lady on a journey, via Boston, 
 where they passed a week or two, among the Green 
 Mountains of Vermont, and his friends and rela- 
 tives in that region. It was his design to pass a 
 couple of months among them, and return to finish 
 the winter in Portland with his wife's friends, and 
 if possible renew his regular labors in the ministry 
 in the spring. In Boston he obtained from a 
 German physician some homoeopathic medicines, 
 that he thought gave his throat much relief. He 
 also purchased the back volumes of the Christian 
 Examiner, to the number of over thirty, which he 
 regarded as a very valuable work. 
 
 The following extracts from his Journal will 
 give some idea of his studies while on the moun- 
 tains, aside from the time occupied in visits, recre- 
 ations, &c. I may add, that during this time he 
 preached occasionally. 
 
 " Oct. 8. Concluded reading Neander's His- 
 
 * This, by a vote of the Society, was subsequently re- 
 funded. 
 
 7*
 
 74 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 tory of the Christian Religion and Church. I have 
 been much edified in its perusal, though my an- 
 ticipations have not been realized." In another 
 place he speaks of the translation as very bad. 
 
 " Oct. 9. Read several articles in the Christian 
 Examiner. Am very much pleased with those on 
 the Early Literary History of Christianity.'' 
 
 "Oct. 25. Concluded D'Aubigne, (History of 
 the Reformation). Think myself well paid for 
 the perusal. He has truly given a vivid account 
 of the times, events, and personages of the Refor- 
 mation ; and his history doubtless will continue a 
 popular one for a long time. It is my opinion, 
 however, that it will not rank with the highest 
 class of Histories, as it appears to me that he be- 
 trays too great an interest to plead the cause of 
 the Reformers, instead of making the facts of their 
 lives plead it for them, and spends quite loo many 
 words in soliloquizing over the events of the nar- 
 rative. As a record of names, dates, events, and 
 facts, it is doubtless a masterly work, but as a 
 philosophical exposition of the great principles 
 which were contested at that remarkable era, and 
 their influence on mankind, it cannot, it seems to 
 me, have the highest praise." 
 
 "Nov. 3. Read in Macaulay, (Miscellanies), 
 his review of Lord Bacon. It is certainly a splen-
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 75 
 
 did production, but with some parts of it I am 
 not exactly well pleased. It appears to do jus- 
 tice to Bacon's moral character, and indeed to his 
 intellectual ability, but it does not appear to me 
 that he is just to the ancient systems of philoso- 
 phy. Though it is true that those systems were 
 not experimental, they did not spurn certainly 
 not all of them to be useful. Was it not the 
 great study of Socrates to make all philosophy 
 useful ? to apply it to all the purposes and pur- 
 suits of human life ?" 
 
 " Nov. 7. Continued Macaulay his review of 
 ' Ranke's History of the Popes ;' in which he dis- 
 courses pretty freely on Romanism and Protes- 
 tantism. It is written with great ability and elo- 
 quence, though I can hardly subscribe to his 
 reason against the decline of the Romish power 
 viz. : that religion is not an inductive and progress- 
 ive science, or subject of inquiry." 
 
 "Nov. 12. Preached two discourses in Stam- 
 ford. * * * Throat troubled me but little 
 while speaking, but felt rather tender and sore 
 afterward. 
 
 " 13. Throat appears the worse for speaking on 
 yesterday. Have now preached seven sermons 
 since coming on the mountain : too many, I fear, 
 for my good. But it is hard for me to say no."
 
 76 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 " Finished reading Macaulay. I think I have 
 not read this man in vain. In some respects, I 
 think him the best writer that I ever read, partic- 
 ularly in the field of general literature. I ought 
 to study him thoroughly." 
 
 " Commenced reading ' Palfrey's Lectures on 
 Jewish Scriptures and Antiquities.' " 
 
 In the latter part of the month he returned 
 with his wife to her friends in Portland. Here he 
 commenced "Stephen's Miscellanies," the work 
 of an able English Essayist, little known in this 
 country, but in some more recent productions, I 
 am happy to say, an advocate of the doctrine of 
 Universal Salvation. He also read Milman's His- 
 tory of Christianity, and wrote for the Trumpet 
 und Universalist Magazine a brief biographical 
 notice of Rev. David Ballou, who had died some 
 years previous, in Monroe, and who was mentioned 
 in the early part of this Memoir. It was to him, 
 more than to any other individual, that Sanford 
 felt indebted for the early tendency of his thoughts 
 ;md affections to Universalism. "Mackintosh's 
 History of England," " Hallam's Introduction to 
 the Literature of Europe," parts of " Mosheim's 
 Church History," "Cox's Life of Melancthon," 
 <fec., were also works which he studied during the 
 month of December ; with particular reference to
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 77 
 
 the light they shed on the era of the Great Ref- 
 ormation. 
 
 " Jan. 27. Took up ' Gibbon's Decline and Fall 
 of the Roman Empire.' I have before read con- 
 siderable in this sublime though infidel work, but 
 have now taken hold of it to read in course. His 
 description of the sudden changes of power in the 
 hands of those who aspired to wear the imperial 
 purple during the second and third centuries of 
 the Christian era, is a luminous but mournful com- 
 mentary on the delusive glories of this world." 
 * * * " Tried to write a sermon, but the ef- 
 fort was next to fruitless. After turning from the 
 pages of Gibbon, my poor faculties are so op- 
 pressed with a sense of their own littleness, and of 
 the meanness of my efforts in comparison with the 
 proofs of dazzling genius in his work, that I can 
 hardly muster mental energy enough to fill my 
 pen and approach my paper. This may be ridic- 
 ulous, but I cannot help it." 
 
 " Feb. 5. Finished reading Gibbon's Memoirs 
 of Himself a most interesting work. That he 
 was a man of great genius and industry, must be 
 acknowledged by every discerning mind which 
 knows anything of him. Having read his history 
 up to the celebrated 15th Chapter, in which I have 
 marked the steps of a stately and dignified giant,
 
 78 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 I have concluded to turn aside and read the ac- 
 count of his Life as given in Lord Sheffield's pub- 
 lication of his Miscellaneous Works, comprising 
 his Autobiography, Correspondence, &c. It is 
 astonishing and encouraging to think of the 
 amount and intensity of his labors. 
 
 " He devoured and digested whole libraries ; and 
 when he took his pen to commence his great work, 
 which he had projected, it seems that his patience 
 was sorely tried before he could acquire a style 
 which would answer at all to his ideal. 
 
 " ' Three times,' says he, ' did I compose the first 
 chapter, and twice the second and third, before I 
 was tolerably satisfied with the effort. In the re- 
 mainder of the way I advanced with a more equal 
 and easy pace ; but the 15th and 16th chapters 
 have been reduced, by three successive revisals, 
 from a large volume to their present size.' He 
 was engaged just about twenty years on the ' De- 
 cline and Fall.' Considering the labor it cost him, 
 and its value, it is a matter of no wonder that he 
 felt the emotions, on finishing it, which he describes 
 on p. 107 of the volume before me. 
 
 " Though his fortune was moderate, he bought 
 books after books, till he had a library of between 
 six and seven thousand volumes. It is plain that 
 after the age of 22 or 23, religion was never a sub-
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 79 
 
 ject of deep interest with him ; and it is probable 
 that after he had made himself acquainted with 
 the great Grecian and Roman writers on History 
 and Philosophy, and especially after associating 1 
 with Voltaire, Hume, and other learned infidels, 
 he almost scorned to give it a respectable notice, 
 or any, except as a baseless and useless supersti- 
 tion connected with the course of his History. 
 
 " I have not yet found the least hint of his having 
 read the Bible at all, only while at school, and 
 then merely a portion of the Gospels, as an exer- 
 cise in the study of the Greek language. He 
 seems to have had no faith in immortality ; and he 
 does not even speak of his having faith in the ex- 
 istence of a God. In alluding to his old age, and 
 death, he merely says, ' I will not suppose any 
 premature decay of the mind or body ; but I must 
 reluctantly observe that two causes, the abbrevia- 
 tion of time, and the failure of hope, will always 
 tinge with a browner shade the evening of life. 1 " 
 
 " Feb. 15. Concluded reading Gibbon's Mis- 
 cellanies, though several of his articles I have pass- 
 ed over lightly, yet looking diligently for what he 
 says on subjects pertaining to religion. His infi- 
 delity, in my opinion, is easily accounted for with- 
 out any disparagement to Christianity. If I were 
 to go into the matter, I should ascribe his infidel-
 
 80 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 ity : 1. To his natural want of taste for religion, 
 as evinced in his early years and education. 2. 
 His conversion, first to Romanism, and secondly, 
 to Calvinism. 3. His acquaintance and associa- 
 tion with Voltaire, Boyle, Hume, and other learn- 
 ed infidels. And 4. His sympathy with the spirit 
 of the Greek and Roman Historians and Philoso- 
 phers. To these should doubtless be added the 
 corrupt forms of received Christianity." 
 
 " 28. Read in Gibbon. Concluded his cele- 
 brated 15th and 16th chapters. They contain, in 
 my opinion,' about the strangest and most dextrous 
 combination of facts and false coloring which was 
 ever put together by mortal hand." 
 
 " March 16. Read in Carlyle's Hero- Worship. 
 In the afternoon went to Middletown. The trial 
 of the three men, Roberts, Bell, and Hall, for the 
 murder of Mrs. Bacon, last September, has ter- 
 minated most unexpectedly. Yesterday, as the 
 evidence stood, it all being circumstantial, there 
 was more against the two former than against the 
 latter ; and the public expected to hear the sen- 
 tence of death pronounced against the three to- 
 day. But Hall made confession last night, that he 
 was the guilty man, and that the others had no 
 part in it ! What an argument against the validity
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 81 
 
 of circumstantial evidence in a trial for capital of- 
 fences !" 
 
 Some time previous to this, feeling that the op- 
 position of a few individuals to the course he had 
 pursued upon the subject of Temperance was im- 
 pairing his influence and usefulness ; and thinking, 
 too, that his society generally was not disposed to 
 aid him in taking a manly and independent stand 
 upon the subject, he once more signified his wish 
 to resign his connection with it. Much that was 
 unpleasant, not to say wrong, followed in the way 
 of discussion and action upon the subject, which 
 perhaps it would do no good to repeat, until it 
 was finally settled that his resignation should be 
 accepted, and his final farewell was pronounced 
 on the 28th of April, 1844. 
 
 He again took up his residence with his wife's 
 parents in Portland, and in the bosom of that es- 
 timable family, released from the cares and re- 
 sponsibilities of his pastoral office, and with the 
 pleasant consciousness that he had been faithful 
 to his trust, that during all the trials and diffi- 
 culties which he had been called to encounter, he 
 had at least striven with earnestness and prayer to 
 do what was right in the sight of God, he was con- 
 tented and happy. His general health rapidly 
 improved ; his diseased throat from time to time 
 8
 
 82 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 seemed to be better, and he resumed his studies 
 with renewed zeal, to qualify himself for usefulness, 
 when time and opportunity should open a new 
 field of labor. I might add, that he occasionally 
 supplied the desk in Middletown, chiefly through 
 exchanges, until the settlement of the present ex- 
 cellent pastor of the Society, Rev. T. P. Abell. 
 The following is from his Journal : 
 
 " June 18. In the afternoon went over to Mid- 
 dletown, and called to see Hall, the murderer, for 
 the last time. He is to be executed on Thursday. 
 He still seems callous to the mordl character of the 
 crime for which he is to suffer. Though he man- 
 ifests regret, I can see no signs of genuine peni- 
 tence in him. In regard to the moral nature, or 
 conscience, he appears to me to be almost a per- 
 fect idiot. After talking and praying with him, I 
 took him by the hand and said, that in taking my 
 leave of him, I would use the last sentence of the 
 judge, as expressive of the sincere desire of my 
 heart, and that I used it with strong faith : 
 ' May Almighty God have mercy on your soul !' 
 He squeezed my hand, trembled, and wept. 
 
 " As I left his cell, I observed that his eye fol- 
 lowed me his countenance speaking the most 
 solemn concern till I passed the window, the last 
 aperture through which he could see me. Poor
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 83 
 
 object of pity and compassion ! thought I : edu- 
 cated in vice and crime, thou knowest not the 
 serene pleasures of virtue and hope, and thy per- 
 verted nature must be disciplined in suffering be- 
 fore thou canst enjoy the light of the Divine 
 countenance." 
 
 " 21. Heard the sad story of Hall's execution. 
 As I expected, he continued to the last seemingly 
 callous to the moral turpitude and enormity of his 
 crimes, and, of course, without genuine Christian 
 penitence." 
 
 He also wrote, at about this time, a series of 
 very good articles for the Trumpet, on " The So- 
 ciety," over the signature of " Paubes," taking the 
 hint from a series entitled "The Pastor," and sign- 
 ed " Cephas." 
 
 " Aug. 7. Attended the commencement exer- 
 cises at Middletown. In the evening, heard an 
 address from that comet, 0. A. Brownson. His 
 subject was, 'Social Reform.' It was handled 
 with great ability, but left his hearers, where he 
 generally does his readers, in doubt as to the real 
 remedy for the evils which he contemplates. 
 The necessity for a reform in the social state was 
 argued : 1. From the fact that on looking at the 
 actual, we form instinctively an ideal far above it. 
 2. From the consideration that while for two or
 
 84 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 three centuries past, there has been a great in- 
 crease of the means of physical comfort among 
 industrial nations, there has been a great dete- 
 rioration in their social and moral condition. A 
 principal cause of this was sought in the separa- 
 tion of the body of wealth , or capital, from labor. 
 The idle are the rich ; the industrious are the poor. 
 In considering the question of a remedy, he ac- 
 knowledged that he felt himself unqualified to an- 
 swer it. 
 
 " Twenty years ago he could have answered it 
 positively, dogmatically, but he had since learned 
 to be more modest ! He would, however, pass in 
 review the theories which have been devised for 
 the relief and regeneration of man. 1. The plan 
 which proposes an increase of wages. This he 
 said would not do, because, when universal, it 
 would raise the price, but not the condition, and 
 would therefore be ineffectual. 2. The proposi- 
 tion to cut entirely from the past, and wholly re- 
 organize society : as contemplated by Owen, 
 Fourier, &c. 3. The destruction of all govern- 
 ment ; and 4. The destruction of all religion. He 
 showed great ingenuity in attacking the weak 
 points of these various theories ; but as to a theory 
 of his own, he had none to give. 
 
 "He believed, however, that the old system
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLE-TOWN. 85 
 
 was the best that of Christ the restoration of 
 faith and righteousness in the heart. The great 
 evil of our times is, want of reverence and want of 
 faith in the invisible and the eternal. Religion, he 
 feared, was doing little more for man in this age 
 than it did during the^Dark Ages. Then it had a 
 controlling influence over wealth ; now wealth 
 governs religion. This is evinced in the building 
 of churches over stores, and in the fact that if a 
 clergyman reproved sin, so as to reduce the in- 
 come of the society, he would lose his situation. 
 The want of true religion, too, was to be seen in 
 the respect paid to the rich, and the contempt 
 with which the poor was regarded. This feeling 
 should be reversed. We should learn to say with 
 Christ : ' Blessed are ye poor cursed are ye 
 rich !' Not that we should hate the rich : we 
 should pity them. ' It is a great misfortune to be 
 rich !' " 
 
 " He also saw the want of religion in the little 
 fear which men are getting to have for punishment 
 in hell! The terrors of the broken law, and of 
 eternal judgment, should be preached : for where 
 there is no. fear, there is no motive to obedience ! 
 ' The good may be governed by love, but not the 
 wicked !' We thought," adds Sanford, " that he 
 was growing a little wild here, or else that he 
 8*
 
 86 ^ MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 was playing a game of cunning to please the mass 
 of religionists ! On the whole, we cannot but re- 
 gard the performance as a strange medley of 
 strong sense and nonsense, and therefore pre- 
 eminently Brownsonian" 
 
 In August, he preached the occasional sermon be- 
 fore the Connecticut State Convention of Universal- 
 ists, and was invited to take charge of the Society in 
 Hudson, N. Y., as its pastor. This invitation, as 
 well as some others, I think, he declined ; his sym- 
 pathies and feelings drawing him strongly toward 
 Massachusetts, and his hopes pointing to a settle- 
 ment where he could avail himself of the social 
 and religious atmosphere of Boston, and the ad- 
 vantages, if possible, of the admirable Library of 
 Harvard College. 
 
 He now took up the study of Geology in a more 
 thorough manner than he had ever before at- 
 tempted. 
 
 " Nov. 29. Commenced Lyell's Elements of < 
 the Science. I find myself in a new field, over 
 which I have hardly before even rambled and I 
 see at once that it requires careful study for the 
 classification of its particulars." 
 
 " 30. I begin to see my way into the several 
 departments of this interesting science, quite as 
 readily as I expected ; and the disentombment of 
 
 .
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETOWN. 87 
 
 organic remains is like introducing one into a new 
 world. Lyell has been thought to be an infidel. 
 He admits, however, that man's remains are to be 
 found only in what he terms the Post-Pliocene pe- 
 riod, and that at least a great part of Europe has 
 been submerged since the commencement of human 
 existence." 
 
 "Dec. 2. I am disappointed at finding this 
 science so capable of intelligible classification and 
 illustration, as it seems to be from these volumes. 
 I have not read a work with deeper interest for a 
 long time. Notwithstanding the alleged infidelity 
 of the author, I find nothing in these volumes 
 which necessarily conflicts with Revelation, except 
 it be his virtual denial of evidence in favor of the 
 commencement of the earth ; while he admits that 
 man and other creatures have had a beginning. I 
 followed him down through the fossiliferous with 
 the most pleasurable interest, expecting that he 
 would come to a period in the disclosed history of 
 the earth ; but to my disappointment, though he 
 could trace the marks of organic existence no far- 
 ther, he expresses the opinion that the period at 
 which it began is not to be reached ; and in his 
 subsequent reasoning on the nature, origin, and 
 age of the volcanic and metamorphic rocks, a 
 theory seems to ' peep out,' according to which
 
 88 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 the earth, and the types of its living inhabitants, 
 very possibly had no beginning ! 
 
 " In concluding, he says, ' If we have found it 
 impossible to assign any limit to that time, through- 
 out which it hath pleased an Omnipotent and 
 Eternal Being to manifest his creative power, we 
 have at least succeeded, beyond all hope, in carry- 
 ing back our researches to a time antecedent to the 
 existence of man. 
 
 " ' We can prove that man had a beginning, and 
 that all the species now contemporary with man, 
 and many others which preceded, had also a be- 
 ginning ; and that consequently, the present state 
 of the organic world has not gone on from all 
 eternity, as some philosophers have maintained.' 
 This sounds like good Theism." 
 
 "Dec. 4. Concluded reading Silliman's Out- 
 lines of Geological Lectures. Do not think they 
 give anything like as clear a view of the science as 
 Lyell does in his ' Elements.' In speaking more 
 confidently of the origin of things, and by refer- 
 ring their creation more frequently to God, he 
 appears to be more of a Christian. In fact, he 
 professes to see no contradiction between the dis- 
 coveries of this science and the declarations of the 
 Bible. Some of his views with regard to the del- 
 uge, however, he will probably have to modify
 
 MINISTRY IN MIDDLETGWN. 
 
 if, in fact, he has not already done so, since his work 
 was written as has been the case with Hitchcock, 
 Buckland, Sedgwick, and others." 
 
 " 5. Began Hitchcock's Geology. This science 
 has really more interest in it than any which I have 
 taken up for a long time, and I regret that I have 
 allowed myself to remain comparatively ignorant 
 of it so long, and that I have not an opportunity 
 of studying it under a competent professor." 
 
 " 6. Read some in Hitchcock. Commenced writ- 
 ing a sermon, thinking that I must allow my Gos- 
 pel weapons to become rusty. Subject The 
 Communication of Moral Life the object of 
 Christ's Mission." 
 
 " 7. Read some, and concluded the sermon, 
 such as it is : rather a small affair, I think. In- 
 deed, my mind is not in the best mood for sermon- 
 writing, but I think it better to write poor ones 
 than none." He also read Buckland's Bridge- 
 water Treatise, remarking, that if it had not 
 strengthened his conviction of the truth of the 
 Mosaic cosmogony, it had at least given him a 
 more vivid impression of the Divine wisdom and 
 goodness, as displayed in the structure of the va- 
 rious races of beings that once lived and moved 
 on the face of the earth, and whose remains are 
 left imbedded in the folds of her strata. He then
 
 90 MEMOIR OP SANFORD. 
 
 passed to Lyell's "Principles of Geology," a 
 wor|f of which he speaks in the highest terms of 
 praise. 
 
 "16. Read in Lyell. Am charmed with the 
 liquid clearness of his style, and almost alarmed 
 at the comprehensiveness of his views. What can 
 be more admirable than his historical view of the 
 rise and progress of Geology ? It is a remarka- 
 ble fact, that among all the nations of antiquity, 
 the origin of the earth was ascribed to a Divine, 
 cause, and its changes and revolutions to the ac- 
 tion of two agents, water and fire. In like man- 
 ner, have not all the traditions of antiquity truth 
 as well as poetry in them ?" 
 
 Still continuing his studies very closely, he 
 preached most of the time in various places, visit- 
 ing some societies as a candidate for settlement, 
 and among them, the First Society, in Lynn, Mass. 
 His services here were very well received, and he 
 finally accepted an invitation to remove there and 
 take charge of the society, on the first of Jan- 
 uary, 1845.
 
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 
 
 " I ENTER upon the duties of this new situation," 
 says he in his Journal, " with deep solicitude, and 
 with earnest prayer that it may prove beneficial 
 both to myself and to my people." 
 
 "I find a very different state of things here 
 from that in Connecticut. There, there was too 
 much conservatism : here, too much radicalism : 
 especially as manifested in Come-outer-ism, the 
 most radical of all the isms with which I was ever 
 acquainted." This last remark was made after he 
 had been in the place long enough to notice, with 
 some care, its peculiarities, as a kind of rallying- 
 point for all the outlandish visionaries, social and 
 religious, or rather anti-religious of that region. 
 
 He had now attained an age, and an experience, 
 which gave distinctness and strength to his views, 
 tone and direction to his feelings, stability and ele- 
 vation to his character ; and had added materially 
 to his qualifications for his position, and the work 
 that lay before him. The condition of things in 
 Lynn was, at this time, somewhat peculiar, and in 
 some respects unfavorable to his success as a
 
 92 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 Christian minister. He was a devout and reverent 
 lover of the Bible.* He loved the plain, simple 
 truths of the Gospel. He believed them to be "the 
 power of God unto salvation." And although 
 these facts endeared him to the larger and better 
 portion of the people of his congregation, they 
 served by no means to recommend him to the re- 
 mainder. These had grown wiser. A kind of 
 mongrel rationalism, made up of Parkerism and 
 water, had been left among them by his predeces- 
 sor, Rev. H. G. Smith, of which he was ignorant 
 at the time he agreed to take charge of the society. 
 In fact, when the vote was taken inviting him, 
 many of this class were for attempting to have Mr. 
 Smith return, being strongly in favor of his pecu- 
 liar opinions. Indeed, so unfavorable was the 
 condition of affairs in this and other similar re- 
 spects, that I seriously doubt whether a man of 
 very ordinary powers and qualifications could have 
 sustained himself for any length of time, commen- 
 cing when he did. But, notwithstanding these cir- 
 cumstances, his labors were attended with a good 
 
 * " I am, and I must be, an ardent lover of the Bible. I 
 would not exchange it for all the systems of philosophy which 
 the ingenuity of human wisdom has ever formed. I love the 
 Bible for what it teaches of God, his nature and character ; 
 and, if possible, I love it more for what it reveals of man, hu- 
 man nature, duty, and destiny." Extract from a Sermon.
 
 degree of success, and the number of his friends 
 was doubtless far greater at the close than at the 
 commencement of his ministry among them. His 
 congregations were quite large; the friends active 
 and zealous ; the church was newly painted in 
 fresco, the Sabbath-school reorganized, and a grad- 
 ual but healthy growth seemed to have truly began. 
 There is a characteristic allusion, in his Journal 
 at this period, to some objections made to his 
 manner of speaking. "April 3. In returning 
 home with a member of my society, I was told 
 that I should be liked very much if I had more 
 energy in my delivery. Energy ! whether it is 
 noise or mental activity that is wanted, I do not 
 know. Poor fellow that I am ! I cannot well 
 feign what I do not feel ; I cannot easily put 
 on the appearance of devotion and earnest- 
 ness such, I mean, as stupidity looks for when 
 I am in 'a calm and heavenly frame.' I do hate 
 to rage and foam in the sacred desk, much as it is 
 liked by the multitude!" For some months from 
 this date, I find little in his history that demands 
 particular notice. Amidst alternate clouds and 
 sunshine, such as usually make up the great body 
 of human life, he seems to have toiled on very per- 
 severingly, and withal very happily. Once more 
 he had emphatically a home a domestic retreat 
 9
 
 94 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 to which he could fly from cares and trials with- 
 out, soothing and strengthening his spirit in the 
 arms of sympathy and love. He still read much, 
 and though he had a large quantity of manuscripts 
 on hand, he continued his sermon- writing, prepar- 
 ing generally one, and often two discourses per 
 week, besides many of his best and most labored 
 efforts for the press, in addition to a few literary 
 and scientific lectures. We commence his Journal 
 again, with 
 
 "May 25th, 1846. For the last six months or 
 so, I have neglected to keep a record of my labors 
 and affairs, partly because I could not procure a 
 book such as I wanted for the purpose ; partly be- 
 cause of mere neglect ; and then, again, partly be- 
 cause I have had but little important matter to 
 record. For the most part, things with me and 
 mine have passed along in a quiet and prosperous 
 way. Among those which have interested me 
 most, may be mentioned the following, (leaving, 
 of course, domestic affairs out of the account) : 
 
 " 1. During the early part of the winter, I had 
 the satisfaction of hearing Charles Lyell, Esq., in 
 a course of lectures on Geology, before the Lowell 
 Institute, Boston. Though not exceedingly inter- 
 esting as a speaker, he was clear in his arrange- 
 ment, choice in his language, familiar with his sub-
 
 * * 
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 95 
 
 ject, and, withal, distinct in his enunciation. He 
 has a handsome figure, large and well-propor- 
 tioned head, and a bright and sparkling, though 
 not prominent, blue eye. The first lecture in 
 which I heard him was devoted to an inquiry into 
 the botany of the carboniferous era. Many com- 
 plained of its dryness, but to me it was exceed- 
 ingly interesting. The second which I heard, and 
 which I think was the ninth of his course, was on 
 the geographical distribution of fossil organic life. 
 The third, which was his twelfth and last, was the 
 conclusion of what he had to say on the same 
 subject. 
 
 " In this lecture, he dwelt on the geological evi- 
 dence of the comparatively low antiquity of the 
 human race. In adverting to the question in re- 
 gard to the probable birth-place of mankind, he 
 remarked, that one of the Humboldts, from the 
 study of ethnography, has rendered it extremely 
 probable that they commenced their being in the 
 northern part of Asia. In closing, he recapitu- 
 lated the grounds over which he had gone, and in- 
 sisted that the causes which, in the course of long 
 ages, have wrought such great changes in both 
 inorganic and organic nature, are still in full and 
 undiminished activity. ' If there are any,' were 
 very nearly his words, ' who conclude that the
 
 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 clock has stopped because they are not able to 
 hear its ticking, or see the motion of the hands 
 upon its face, it is because their observations have 
 not extended beyond a single zoological era ; and 
 though the earth could be struck out of existence 
 in a moment by the Power that formed it, it wears 
 ' no proofs of decay or dissolution.' 
 
 " 2. During the winter, I prepared and delivered 
 a course of five lectures on the science of Geology, 
 in its relations to natural and revealed religion. 
 They cost me a great amount of labor, but the 
 gratification which the study and results afforded 
 was a sufficient compensation. The second lec- 
 ture on fossil organic remains I delivered be- 
 fore the Lynn Nat. Hist. Society. 
 
 " 3. Some four weeks since, I attended the Inau- 
 guration of Edward Everett, as President of Har- 
 vard University. His oration, or address, I re- 
 garded, all things considered, as the most truly 
 eloquent production to which I ever listened. The 
 ease, grace, and appropriateness of his manner 
 were perfectly astonishing. His allusions to Web- 
 ster, who was present, drew down thundering ap- 
 plause. I was never before so deeply impressed 
 with the sense of the omnipotence of eloquence." 
 
 His 4th specification refers to certain proceed- 
 ings had by the friends of Rev. Mr, Smith, his
 
 * 
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 97 
 
 
 
 predecessor, to obtain the church for him to 
 preach in. The sum of its effects were to stir up 
 still greater excitement and division in the So- 
 ciety ; though, I believe, that few, if any, of the 
 more influential members left Sanford to join 
 Smith. He then proceeds to specification 
 
 " 5. Within two weeks, a war has broken out 
 between Mexico and the United States, in conse- 
 quence of the annexation of Texas ! Most sad to 
 think of! * * * Our Government has ap- 
 propriated ten millions of dollars, and ordered 
 into the field 50,000 men, to carry on the war. 
 The late ' victory ' was celebrated among us by 
 raising the American flag and the discharge of 
 cannon ! ! God ! may these bloody scenes have 
 a speedy end !" 
 
 " Last week, besides making a number of calls, 
 I wrote two sermons ; one on ' Christ's Sermon 
 on the Mount ;' the other on ' The Enemies of 
 Christ put under his Feet,' reckoning war among 
 the number." 
 
 " June 19. Yesterday I attended the services 
 at the dedication of the Universalist Church, in 
 Beverly, and the installation of Brother J. L. Ste- 
 vens, as Pastor of the Society. Rev. S. Cobb 
 gave the sermon on the first occasion, and Rev. 
 H. Ballou 2d on the second. Everything seemed 
 9*
 
 98 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 of the right kind until Rev. J. Prince came to give 
 the Address to the Society, when a whole hour 
 was devoted to an attack upon the miraculous in 
 Christianity, in the style of Parkerism, as the 
 Americanized system of German Rationalism is 
 called in this quarter. To say nothing of the er- 
 roneousness of the sentiments he advocated, the 
 effort was entirely out of place, and was plainly 
 received with much disapprobation. When he got 
 through, Mr. Ballou arose, and in a very decided, 
 yet kind and tender manner, expressed his dissent 
 from the views which had been announced. He 
 probably felt under stronger obligation to do so, 
 from the fact that many members of other sects 
 were present." 
 
 It was ascertained during the summer that the 
 pecuniary affairs of the Society were not in a very 
 flourishing condition, and Sanford addressed it a 
 note upon the subject, expressing his suspicion 
 that much of this was owing to the influence 
 which the friends of his predecessor, Mr. Smith, 
 had exerted. 
 
 Two or three meetings were held to consider the 
 subject, and the result is found in the following 
 letter :- 
 
 " To Rev. Merritt Sanford : 
 
 " At an adjourned meeting of the members
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 99 
 
 and others, who desire the prosperity of the First 
 Universalist Society, held after Divine service 
 yesterday afternoon, the following Resolution was 
 adopted by ballot : 
 
 " Resolved, That in our present pastor we are 
 united ; that his devotion to the cause and to the 
 best interests of the Society has been unceasing, 
 while the present condition of our financial con- 
 cerns is by no means attributable to his ministry, 
 but is easily traced to other causes. 
 
 " Whole number of ballots, 77 
 
 "Yeas 66 
 
 "Nays 11 
 
 " Voted, That the Clerk be requested to for- 
 ward to Brother Sanford the Resolution, and the 
 vote on the same. 
 
 " JAMES M. SARGEANT, Clerk." 
 
 This was early in October, and the following re- 
 marks concerning it are from his Journal : 
 
 " Considering all things, I must say that I am 
 somewhat surprised at the vote in my favor, it is 
 so much larger than when I was called to the 
 pastorship of the Society. On ascertaining the 
 facts, I find that I had hardly twenty votes in the 
 majority at that time ; twenty-five voting for Mr. 
 Smith on the last ballot. This I did not know
 
 100 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 then, but have perceived all along that I had a 
 strong influence to work against. I am thankful 
 to Heaven that there is now so fair a prospect of 
 getting rid of the influence of his dispensation. I 
 have had a trial, and now hope to come forth pu- 
 rified." 
 
 During the fall he succeeded in organizing a 
 church in connection with his Society, and aided 
 much in establishing the " Lynn Mechanics' Ly- 
 ceum," and obtaining a course of lectures for the 
 winter. 
 
 "Jan. 1, 1847. Another New Year ! Itseems 
 but as yesterday that 1846 commenced ; and 
 should health and prosperity continue, 1848 will 
 come before we are aware of it. But it is of lit- 
 tle use to moralize. To act, in doing something of 
 utility or virtue, is far more important." 
 
 A course of lectures addressed to the young 
 was prepared and delivered through the winter, 
 and in the spring he commenced the study of the 
 Latin language, aided only by his brother, who 
 came to reside with him and attend school. 
 
 He also preached an excellent occasional sermon 
 before the Massachusetts State Convention, and 
 prepared for the Universalist Quarterly an able and 
 valuable article on the " Archaeology of the Earth 
 and its Inhabitants."
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 101 
 
 ''July 13. Last week was almost wholly giv- 
 en to the study of Latin, writing but about one 
 sermon. In Latin I am making rather slow, but, 
 I think, sure progress. Have just got fairly into 
 the Reader. I like it very much, and even if I 
 did not, I should be encouraged to proceed, so 
 strong is my desire to be able to read a few rare 
 and important works in the language ; particularly 
 Cicero's De Natura Deorum and De Finibis, 
 and Pliny's Natural History." 
 
 " 19. Brother John Moore passed last night 
 with us, having preached to the Second Society 
 yesterday. It is believed that an effort is making 
 to get him at that part of the town. For the So- 
 ciety's sake, I could wish he would come, but for 
 his sake I could desire that he might keep away !" 
 
 In September he wrote another admirable arti- 
 cle for the Universalist Quarterly on the Scripture 
 Doctrine of Creation ; and in the early part of Octo- 
 ber announced to his Society that, in consequence 
 chiefly of the disadvantages he had labored un- 
 der from the want of union in it, and the oppo- 
 sition he still had to meet from the peculiar friends 
 of Mr. Smith, it was his intention to close his pas- 
 toral labors there with the ending of the year. De- 
 cember 26, he preached his farewell sermon in 
 Lynn. The officers of the Society gave him a very
 
 102 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 complimentary letter, and he continued to supply 
 the desk during the winter by way of exchange. 
 The following is a more detailed account of his 
 reasons for leaving there : 
 
 "The causes which have operated to bring 
 about the close of my labors in Lynn may be said 
 to be these : 1. The love of novelty and change 
 in the place. For this Lynn has been long and 
 widely celebrated ; and after living here three 
 years, I am able to say that it has come honestly 
 by the reputation. The people are quick to fall 
 in love with a man, and equally quick in falling out 
 of it. This has operated to make the stay of min- 
 isters short. 
 
 " 2. The peculiar half- revolutionary state of things 
 in the Society, as left by my predecessor. And 
 this, in my view, has been the most influential 
 circumstance of all. On coming here, I found a 
 large number who were not only greatly in favor 
 of his infidel radicalism, but seemed to feel a kind 
 of spite toward the rest of the Society for not 
 joining them in efforts to get him back. This 
 party has violently opposed me ever since I have 
 been here. 
 
 "3. In some instances I have given unintentional 
 offence in my preaching in disowning some views 
 in respect to the future state maintaining that 
 death produces no change in the character, and
 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 103 
 
 that man enters the immortal world in the same 
 moral state in which he leaves the present life. 
 It may be poor policy to preach this doctrine, but 
 I believe that duty, that principle, requires its dis- 
 tinct enunciation.* 
 
 * I regret to say that misapprehension seemed to exist 
 in some minds with regard to the ground which Mr. San- 
 ford occupied upon this subject. The writer has had an op- 
 portunity of knowing something of his views, having been 
 very intimate with him from his youth up. Almost his entire 
 religious experience, as well as the few modifications that oc- 
 curred in his opinions, were the subject of frequent and un- 
 reserved communication between us. Most of these modifica- 
 tions I have already hinted at, and they were comparatively 
 trifling at most. True, his views of the resurrection, and of 
 the moral connection between the present and the future state, 
 differed a little from those held by a large and respectable class 
 in the denomination ; and it is equally true that they were 
 very nearly in agreement with those held by another class. 
 Besides the means of information derived from the most frank 
 personal correspondence, I have examined the great body of 
 his manuscripts, and his private journal, and unhesitatingly 
 affirm that he was a strong, unwavering Univcrsalist. I nev- 
 er heard the first word from his lips, or saw the first from his 
 pen, which indicated a doubt even in regard to a single point 
 of faith that the Universalist body would deem of very great 
 importance. 
 
 I make these remarks not only because I deem them just, but 
 because we have a small band of enemies small every way 
 who would like very well to see unpleasant differences among 
 us. One of them, in a very complimentary notice of Sanford 
 in the " Christian Herald," intimates that, "as a Theologian, 
 he was regarded by some of bis brethren as ' rather too Ortho- 
 dox.' "
 
 104 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 " To these should doubtless be added two other 
 causes. Some have not liked the simplicity of 
 my manner, having a taste for a more noisy style ; 
 and the Society has labored under a debt, so as to 
 render it difficult to meet its expenses." 
 
 During the remainder of the winter he pursued 
 his studies with unwearied industry, spending 
 most of his time on the Latin. He found great 
 difficulty, however, from the want of a regular and 
 competent instructor ; and made some inquiries 
 as to the terms on which he could spend a season 
 in Harvard College. 
 
 The time demanded for preparation, however, 
 was greater than he could afford, and after fol- 
 lowing up his Latin, with such aids as he could 
 obtain, till early in March, he took hold of the 
 Greek with the most indomitable resolution. The 
 summer was almost entirely taken up with the 
 study of these two languages ; in which, consider- 
 ing his want of assistance, he made rapid prog- 
 ress. 
 
 He had reached the 10th book of theEneid, and 
 was prepared to begin the Greek Reader, when, 
 early in September, he left with his wife for Ver- 
 mont, where they spent among their friends some- 
 thing over two months, returning to Portland, Ct., 
 in November, to spend the winter with his father- 

 
 MINISTRY IN LYNN. 105 
 
 in-law, and prosecute his studies there, aided by 
 Rev. Mr. Emery, the Rector of the Episcopal 
 Church. 
 
 "March 4th, 1849. I continue steadily at work 
 on my studies. Have recited to Mr. Emery twice 
 a week for two months. I like him quite well as 
 a teacher, though I continually feel that he 'would 
 be of greater service to me if he were familiar 
 with Sophocles' Grammar. It is, this week, just 
 a year since I commenced in Greek. I have found 
 it hard digging, I confess, but I have not yet had 
 a momentary feeling of repentance for commencing 
 it, and I do not know but what I ought to be sat- 
 isfied with my progress. In Jacobs' Reader I 
 have read 72 pp., ending with ' Natural History ;' 
 and in Arnold's Greek Composition, I have ad- 
 vanced 60 pp., and I feel that I have been doing 
 a good work in the Grammar. In Latin, I have 
 finished Sallust, and just commenced on Cicero's 
 Select Orations." 
 
 But his time on earth was now rapidly drawing 
 to a close. Though in the enjoyment of perfect 
 health, and ardently engaged in acquiring the 
 means of still greater usefulness, his labors, trials, 
 and enjoyments here were about over. Early in 
 the spring he had made engagements with the 
 Universalist Society in Warren, Mass., to assume 
 10
 
 106 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 its pastoral charge ; and while preparing to re- 
 move there, was exposed, while on a visit to Bos- 
 ton, to that disease he had so long dreaded the 
 measles. Still thinking that he might escape an 
 attack, as he had before done under similar ex- 
 posures, he made no mention of the fact to his 
 family and friends in Portland, but went alone to 
 Warren, where he was taken suddenly on Sunday, 
 April 22d. On the day previous, feeling, as he 
 feared, some of the premonitory symptoms of ill- 
 ness, he sent for his wife, who arrived the same 
 evening. On Sunday he became delirious, and 
 remained so until the following Thursday, when 
 he expired. His. remains were taken to his native 
 town, a funeral discourse delivered by Rev. H. F. 
 Ballou, and there, amidst the scenes of his child- 
 hood, on the banks of that little streamlet where 
 he had then played, they laid him, with many 
 tears, to sleep by the side of his early wife and 
 child ! 
 
 The following is extracted from a brief notice of 
 his death, which appeared in the Trumpet and 
 Universalist Magazine, of May 5th, under the 
 editorial care of Rev. Thos. Whittemore : 
 
 " We feel no ordinary emotions of grief in an- 
 nouncing the death of Bro. Merritt Sanford, late 
 pastor of the First Universalist Society in Lynn,
 
 HIS DEATH. 107 
 
 Mass. * * * * He was a man of sound mind, 
 a fine writer, and a good preacher. He died at 
 Warren, Mass., on Thursday of last week (26th 
 April), at eleven o'clock, A. M., in the 37th year 
 of his age. He had recently entered into an en- 
 gagement to preach to the Universalist Society in 
 that town ; and after supplying the pulpit for two 
 or three Sundays, he was attacked by a very 
 dangerous disorder, called by some the black 
 measles. He was sick only six days. The best 
 of attention was paid him ; it was not in the power 
 of man to do anything more than was done ; but 
 all was of no avail. The sickness was unto death 
 the hand of God was in the event. Much as 
 we regret the loss of our beloved friend and broth- 
 er, and much as we feel that our ministry has 
 been deprived of one of its brightest ornaments, 
 we still can say, ' The Lord gave, and the Lord 
 hath taken away; blessed be the name of the 
 Lord.' " 
 
 The following extracts are taken from the notice 
 published in the " Christian Herald" the organ, 
 I believe, of the sect of Christians and to which 
 reference was made in a note on a previous 
 page : 
 
 " The death of Rev. Merritt Sanford, for two or 
 three years pastor of the (1st) Universalist Society
 
 108 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 in Lynn, is announced in the Trumpet of last week. 
 * * * * I was acquainted with this gentleman, 
 and cannot but mingle a tear of sympathy with 
 his afflicted companion and family friends. Mr. 
 Sanford was a gentleman of talent and general 
 intelligence, and manifested an active spirit of 
 philanthropy. * * * * He was much respected 
 as a good citizen and an active philanthropist by 
 his neighbors and acquaintances in Lynn." 
 
 As soon as the news of his death reached his 
 former parishioners in Lynn, it called out the fol- 
 lowing earnest and warm expression of their sym- 
 pathy and respect (I quote from the Trumpet) r 
 
 " BRO. WHITTEMORE : At the close cf Divine 
 service, yesterday afternoon, the following pre- 
 amble and resolutions were unanimously passed 
 by the First Universalist Society of this place : 
 
 " Whereas, it has pleased the Universal Fa- 
 ther, in the plenitude of His wisdom, to remove 
 our late pastor and well-beloved brother, Merritt 
 Sanford, from the scene of his earthly labors, to 
 cut him down in the midst of life, and an extended 
 sphere of usefulness : Therefore, 
 
 " Resolved, That we recognize in Bro. Sanford 
 one of the brightest ornaments of society ; a faith- 
 ful, talented, and useful minister ; a tender and
 
 HIS DEATH. 109 
 
 devoted husband ; and an affectionate and beloved 
 brother and friend. 
 
 " Resolved, That we cherish his memory with 
 sentiments of profound esteem and affection, that 
 we deeply sympathize with his afflicted companion 
 and relatives in their sad bereavement, and tender 
 to them the assurance of our sincere sympathy and 
 condolence, and commend them to that Gospel 
 which he both preached and adorned by his life, 
 for the consolation they so much need in this their 
 hour of trial. 
 
 " Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions, 
 signed by the Trustees and Clerk of this Society, 
 be forwarded to Mrs. Sanford, and that they be 
 published in the ' Trumpet' and ' Christian Free- 
 man.' 
 
 lt GUSTAVUS ATWILL, 
 
 GEO. W. LORD, 
 NATHL. BLANCHARD, 
 ALANSON BURRILL, 
 
 "Trustees. 
 
 EDMUND PERRY, 
 C. W. TODD, , 
 JOB C. WAIT, J 
 
 " JAMES M. SARGEANT, Clerk." 
 Thus lived, and passed away, in the vigor of 
 early manhood, one who is believed to have had 
 as many virtues and as few faults as can well be 
 10*
 
 110 MEMOIR OF SANFORD. 
 
 expected from our frail humanity. " And I heard 
 a voice from heaven, saying unto me, Write, 
 Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." 
 Amea. 
 
 : V
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 " Although affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither 
 doth trouble spring out of the ground ; yet man is born unto 
 trouble, as the sparks fly upward." Job v., 6, 7. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND by this language, that human suf- 
 fering is not accidental but natural ; not the prod- 
 uct of chance, but the appointment of the Crea- 
 tor ; and that, severe and protracted as may be 
 man's sufferings in the furnace of affliction, its fires 
 are kindled and tempered by the Hand that made 
 him, and for the purpose of purifying and elevating 
 his nature. 
 
 This lesson is what we should all be solicitous 
 to learn. The more I see of the affairs of human 
 life ; of its short and deceitful pleasures, and of the 
 burdens which are laid upon human shoulders, 
 the deeper is my conviction that man knows noth- 
 ing nothing of himself and of the true end of his 
 being, till he has learned this lesson till he has 
 learned that he is born to experience the trials and 
 sorrows of adversity, as well as the ease and pleas-
 
 112 AFFLICTION. 
 
 ure of prosperity ; and that it is absolutely neces- 
 sary to his growth and welfare, as an intellectual 
 and moral being ; and though this may be thought 
 by some to be a sad reflection, it is to me a sad- 
 der one, that his nature is so weak, that he hardly 
 ever learns this lesson until fortune frowns upon 
 him, and he drinks of the bitter draught which 
 Providence pours into the cup of mortals. And 
 the consideration that he there learns this truth ; 
 that he generally comes forth from the furnace 
 with higher thoughts and purer feelings, removes 
 all sad and sorrowing reflections from my mind, 
 and enables me to look upon all the pains and 
 groans of this suffering world with resignation, 
 almost with joy. My experience, I know, has not 
 been long, but it has been full of meaning. The 
 morning of my days was bright and full of 
 promise. The heavens were garnished with stars, 
 and the earth was strewed with flowers; and I 
 walked forth in the vivacity and vigor of youth, 
 looked upon the beautiful world that lay before 
 me, and I more than half said to myself, " These 
 heavens shall never lose their brightness ; these 
 flowers shall never wither, and life will be to me 
 an unbroken round of prosperity and felicity." 
 The word adversity I indeed read in books, and 
 my teachers told me that this is a world which is
 
 AFFLICTION. 113 
 
 swept by the storms, and visited with the frosts of 
 disappointment and suffering ; but that word I did 
 not understand, because those storms and frosts 
 I had not experienced. Possessed of vigorous 
 health and joyful spirits, and surrounded by 
 friends who had hung over my cradle, and by a 
 least OTIC other wlio stood ready to sacrifice ca> e 
 and even life to my comfort and welfare, " in my 
 prosperity," I almost said, " I shall never be 
 moved." But years have taught me another les- 
 son. Providence has told me what meaning there 
 is in the word adversity. The heavens have been 
 darkened by tempests, and the earth has been 
 rudely swept by winds and storms. The tenderest 
 and strongest ties of my nature have been sunder- 
 ed, and the grave has closed over the sweetest 
 and loveliest beings which Heaven has yet given 
 me " to bless the present scene." But, thanks to 
 the goodness of the Creator, and to the influence 
 of the Gospel of his grace, I mourn not without 
 hope. For a while, however, I thought the blow 
 too severe, and my poor, feeble nature almost 
 sunk beneath the load though there was no pe 
 riod when Christianity did not speak comfort to 
 my troubled heart ; but I can now say, and I be- 
 lieve without exaggeiation, that " it is good for me 
 that I have been afflicted." If I know myself, I
 
 114 AFFLICTION. 
 
 have acquired new strength, and the most valu- 
 able strength, from the burdens which have been 
 laid upon me. I have been led to think more of 
 myself, of God, and of Christianity, and to feel 
 more the ties which bind me to my race, and of 
 the obligations under which I am placed to sym- 
 pathize with them, and try to minister to their 
 welfare. In particular, I have been led to consider 
 the intentions of the Creator in making man a sub- 
 ject of suffering, and I have learned, at least to my 
 satisfaction, that he is in greater danger from pros- 
 perity than he is from adversity ; and that all the 
 sufferings of this world are ordered in mercy, and 
 that they are exercising man's powers, elevating 
 his conceptions and feelings, and conducting him 
 onward and upward, to the glory and perfection 
 of his nature. Accordingly, I now look upon the 
 world, not, indeed, with that thoughtless gayety 
 and pleasure in which I gazed upon it in earlier 
 life, but with higher conceptions, and, I will say, a 
 sublimer joy. I have not ceased to see suffering 
 around me, and I have not lost a heart to weep 
 over it ; but I think I have learned its purpose. I 
 see it in the hand of an infinite Father ; and I see 
 how he uses it to discipline and elevate his chil- 
 dren. I have therefore ceased to fear it, and my 
 only concern now is, that I may bear its inflictions
 
 *!* 
 
 
 
 AFFLICTION. 115 
 
 with patience, and with a clear view of the great 
 purpose for which it is administered. 
 
 My hearers will pardon this allusion to myself, 
 because it is made not only to give you a short 
 chapter from the book of human experience, but 
 to hold up before you the object of the present dis- 
 course. I wish to teach others the lessons I have 
 learned. Words, I know, are poor things; pre- 
 cept, and even example, are often powerless in 
 their influence ; because the majority of mankind 
 will learn wisdom from nothing but from the cold 
 and icy hand of suffering. And. the solemn fact 
 that I am surrounded by sufferers, that there are 
 those who have drank of the bitter waters of ad- 
 versity, encourages me to speak ; and I have great 
 hope that I shall succeed in my efforts to convince 
 such that the ministry of affliction is the ministry 
 of benevolence ; in other words, I have hope that 
 such will bear witness that I am not dealing in 
 fiction, or mere theory, when I speak of the bene- 
 ficial influence of adversity. The pampered and 
 spoiled children of worldly prosperity, those who 
 have lived in perpetual ease and pleasure, and 
 who have not yet been made to wrestle with diffi- 
 culty and sorrow, will have but a dull ear and a 
 doubting heart while I speak on this subject, 
 and they will doubtless think it an unprofitable
 
 1 16 AFFLICTION. 
 
 theme ; but I am sure that in the hearts of the 
 suffering and the unfortunate there are cords 
 which will vibrate to the sentiments which I utter, 
 and that they will bless God for making this world 
 a mixed scene of pleasure and pain, in proportion 
 as they have weighed and felt the several elements 
 which enter into the composition of human life. 
 
 Of the fact that suffering enters largely into life, 
 and that no mortal can long escape the approach 
 of adversity, I need not speak, except for the 
 information if, indeed, they will receive it of the 
 young, the inexperienced, or the thoughtless. 
 This world, I know, is a good one. was made 
 by a Being who knew what he was about, and I 
 doubt not that his wisdom, directed by his benevo- 
 lence, has adapted all its parts to the nature and 
 welfare of its inhabitants. I look upon it, not as 
 a gloomy prison, filled with the victims of divine 
 hatred and wrath, but as a glorious theatre, occu- 
 pied by the offspring of infinite and impartial 
 goodness. The great dramatist has well said, 
 
 " All the world's a stage, 
 And all the men and women merely players : 
 They have their exits, and their entrances ; 
 And one man, in his time, plays many parts." 
 
 Ah ! yes, there are " many parts " played in
 
 AFFLICTION. 117 
 
 this theatre ; and he who has not learned that 
 tragedy, as truly as comedy, enters largely into its 
 drama, has not seen more than the first scene. As 
 spring is the most lovely season in the year, youth 
 is the happiest period in the history of man. Man- 
 hood brings its cares, and old age its burdens. . I 
 have no disposition to induce gloom in a single 
 mind, by holding up the dark side of life's picture ; 
 but we had better see the truth, if it is not so 
 agreeable, than to be the dupes of error. I give 
 you the word which came from heaven, and which 
 the history of the earth has confirmed. " The 
 voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry ? 
 All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is 
 as the flower of the field ; the grass withereth, the 
 flower fadeth." " Man that is born of a woman 
 is of few days and full of trouble. He cometh 
 forth like a flower, and is cut down ; he fleeth also 
 as a shadow, and continueth not." " For what is 
 your life ? It is even a vapor, that appeareth a 
 little while, and then vanisheth away." "Men 
 dwell in houses of clay ; their foundation is in the 
 dust ; they are crushed before the moth." " One 
 dieth in the fullness of his strength, being wholly 
 at ease and quiet. His breasts are full of milk, 
 and his bones moistened with marrow. Another 
 dieth in the bitterness of his soul, and never eateth 
 11
 
 118 AFFLICTION. 
 
 with pleasure. They shall lie down alike in the 
 dust, and the worms shall cover them." "The 
 mighty are exalted for^ a little while ; but are gone 
 and brought low ; they are taken out of the way 
 as all others, and cut off as the tops of the ears 
 ...of corn." " My days are swifter than a weaver's 
 shuttle." " I know that thou wilt bring me to 
 death, and to the place appointed for all living." 
 "Man goeth to his long home, and the mourners 
 go about the streets." 
 
 Solemn this may be, my friends, but it is true. 
 The history of six thousand years has proved it. 
 Disease, pain, and death have preyed upon every 
 form that has trod our earth, and deposited their 
 ashes in its bosom. And there is nothing in all 
 this world which is permanent and unfading. 
 There is no dwelling, no palace, though its foun- 
 dation be granite, and its walls be adamant, which 
 shall not yield to the touch of time, and be laid 
 even with the ground. And there is no family, 
 sweet and strong as are the ties which bind its 
 members together, and be there ever so much 
 beauty and wealth, which will not be separated by 
 the hand of the Destroying Angel, and be made 
 the common food of the worm of corruption. 
 
 " The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
 
 AFFLICTION. 119 
 
 Yea, all which it inhabit, shall dissolve,} 
 And like this unsubstantial pageant faded, 
 Leave not a wreck behind." 
 
 And what is the cause of all this change, de- 
 cay, and suffering ? A cause there certainly is, 
 whether man find it, or not, and whether he is 
 satisfied with it, or not. What is it? Is it 
 chance? Philosophy tells us that there is no 
 such thing in the universe, and every thinking 
 mind, it would seem, must grant the correctness 
 of her conclusion. Order, design, and law these 
 are written all over creation. He who does not 
 see them is blind to everything in Nature, and he 
 might as well deny the existence of the universe 
 itself. Every form of inanimate and animate 
 existence has its distinct and appropriate laws; 
 and where there is law, there is no possibility of 
 chance. It would be as proper to talk of a discord 
 in a harmony. " Nature never makes mistakes," 
 was the saying of a wise man ; and the reason is, 
 because she is under the dominion of laws through- 
 out all her works. If she produces earthquakes 
 and volcanoes, or what we may regard as dreadful 
 accidents, it is not because there is chance in her 
 operations, but because she acts in obedience to 
 laws beyond our feeble comprehension. And it is 
 so in the ruptures and sufferings which take place
 
 120 AFFLICTION. 
 
 in human life. There is nothing accidental 
 nothing like chance, in them. Laws preside over 
 them all, and who will deny that they take place 
 according to the will and appointment of that in- 
 finite Lawgiver, who balanced the machinery of 
 the universe, and gave to it all its laws ? Perhaps 
 I shall be told that man's afflictions and sufferings 
 come upon him for disregarding, or transgressing, 
 the laws of the Creator. It may be argued, that 
 every law of God is benevolent in its nature, and 
 that it has enjoyment for its object, and, conse- 
 quently, that all human suffering results from 
 transgressing the laws which the Creator has 
 established. I freely admit that there is much 
 philosophy, much truth, in this. I see that the 
 young die, because some violence is done to the 
 laws of their existence ; and I see that health can 
 be promoted, life prolonged, and enjoyment aug- 
 mented, by learning and obeying the laws which 
 are interwoven with the human economy. But 
 may we not look further ? Who made these laws, 
 and did He not foresee the manner iu which they 
 would be treated ? Did not His eye run along 
 the whole course of humanity, and were not the 
 transgressions, which would result from the action 
 of His laws, as truly present to His mind as the 
 laws themselves ? And if so, and especially as
 
 AFFLICTION. 121 
 
 He fixed the conditions from which the transgres- 
 sions would flow, did He not virtually ordain 
 them, and absolutely provide for their results ? I 
 see not how an affirmative answer to these ques- 
 tions can be avoided. And there is another view 
 to be taken of this matter. God could have or- 
 dained all the changes, afflictions, separations, and, 
 if you please, all the transgressions, which take 
 place among men, without the production of pain, 
 sorrow, and lamentation, had He so willed. He 
 could have given man nerves of iron and a heart 
 of stone, so that he could have passed through all 
 life's changes without feeling the touch of pain, 
 and buried his kindred, and gone himself down to 
 the gates of death, without shedding a tear or 
 heaving a sigh. But He did not so will He has 
 not so done. He has given man both a frame and 
 a soul, which are tenderly alive at every pore. 
 His physical powers and sensations are far more 
 tender and acute than those of the brute creation 
 below him, and the consequence is, that he knows 
 more of disease, pain, and suffering. And then, 
 think of his mental sensibility, and mental sorrow. 
 ! how many and deep are the fountains which, 
 easily disturbed, send forth bitter waters from 
 within him ! His reason, how often is it mocked 
 in its attempts to rise to the comprehension of 
 11*
 
 
 122 AFFLICTION. 
 
 truth, and sinks back upon itself, in doubt, in 
 darkness, sometimes in despair ! His social feel- 
 ings feelings which require him to seek the 
 companionship and love of his race, and bind him 
 in bonds of gentleness to his kindred and friends : 
 alas ! how often are they made to bleed over un- 
 requited love, over disappointment and bereave- 
 ment ! His moral affections affections which 
 give him ideas of right and duty, of justice and 
 benevolence, how they plead with him to keep 
 on the even tenor of his way, and go not in the 
 path of sin, and how do they upbraid him and 
 torment him, when he finds himself in the way of 
 evil ! And his religious instincts and aspirations 
 instincts and aspirations which impel him to seek 
 and feel after his Maker, " if haply he might find 
 Him," and to look upward to a happy immortality 
 as the true end and good of his being, and how 
 they minister to his inward pain, and degradation, 
 and despair, even when he does not find the true 
 God, and the hope of a blissful future ! And in his 
 present natural state of imperfection and weak- 
 ness, how can he avoid these errors, and free him- 
 self from all these unhappy results ? 
 
 Here, then, we find that reason and nature join 
 revelation in teaching that affliction, adversity, 
 suffering, has its origin in the will and appointment 

 
 AFFLICTION. 123 
 
 of God. There is nothing accidental, and nothing 
 merely mechanical or material in its cause. "Afflic- 
 tion cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth 
 trouble spring out of the ground." Its fires are 
 kindled by the hand of the Maker. " Man is born 
 unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward." It is the 
 natural result of the nature which is conferred 
 upon him, and it is an essential element in the 
 purpose of his being. In giving him his acute 
 sensations and exquisite sensibilities, God has 
 opened, so to speak, fountains of pain and sorrow 
 in every fibre and pore of his physical and mental 
 nature ; and the changes and reverses of Providence 
 with which he has diversified the journey which 
 he takes in his passage through this nether world, 
 doubly proves that his afflictions and sufferings are 
 ordained by the Being that made him. 
 
 This brings us to the main business of the pres- 
 ent discourse to inquire into the object or pur- 
 pose for which man is made a subject of affliction 
 and suffering. Why has God opened inlets of 
 pain and sorrow within him, and why does He lead 
 him through so many difficulties, trials, and suf- 
 ferings ? This is a great, though a very natural 
 question. The sufferer has asked it, as he has 
 turned himself in agony upon the bed of sickness ; 
 and the philosopher has asked it, as he has sur- 

 
 124 AFFLICTION. 
 
 veyed the world, and beheld the sufferings which 
 abound in it. 
 
 If we turn to the Scriptures for an answer, we 
 get one which is at once worthy the character of 
 God and the reception of man. We are there told, 
 on almost every page, that man is visited with suffer- 
 ing, not to gratify and satiate the hatred and wrath 
 of his Maker, nor because he is doomed to bear the 
 evils of his state for the sin of his first parents, but 
 to quicken and elevate his own nature to dis- 
 cipline and strengthen his intellectual and moral 
 powers, and to give him moral energy and spiritual 
 perfection through its severe and faithful ministry. 
 " Our light afflictions, which are but for a moment, 
 work out a far more exceeding, eternal weight of 
 glory." " No chastening for the present seemeth 
 joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless, afterward it 
 yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto 
 them who are exercised thereby." " Ye shall 
 weep and lament, but your sorrow shall be turned 
 into joy." " They that sow in tears shall reap in 
 joy." " Weeping may endure for the night, but joy 
 cometh in the morning." I need not multiply these 
 divine, sweet assurances. They are scattered over 
 the whole field of revelation, and every one who 
 has made himself familiar with the sacred writings 
 will bear me witness, that the cause of affliction is 

 
 AFFLICTION. 125 
 
 there always ascribed to the goodness of God and 
 to his interest in the welfare of his creatures, and 
 that it is declared to be inflicted for the purpose 
 of correcting and elevating them. 
 
 Can we learn this lesson, my friends ? From 
 observation, experience, and reflection, can we so 
 lift up our thoughts, that we can see the goodness 
 of God in His making man a child of sorrow, and 
 kiss the rod when we bear its stripes ? So weak 
 is our nature, we may not be able to do this in 
 every instance of suffering which we witness or 
 experience ; but, if we will withdraw our minds 
 from the glare and noise of the world, and think 
 of the condition of human nature, and of the rela- 
 tive influence of prosperity and of adversity upon 
 it, I am sure we shall come to the conclusion that 
 affliction is as the refiner's fire to silver in its in- 
 fluence on man, and we shall see reasons for bless- 
 ing God in his darkest dispensations. 
 
 The common argument in vindication of the 
 goodness of God in human suffering is, that the 
 amount of enjoyment is greater than that of pain. 
 This is a good argument, because it is founded in 
 truth. Yes ; it is a glorious truth, that, great and 
 trying as are the pains and sorrows of this world, 
 the amount of happiness is far, almost infinitely, 
 greater. For one tear there are a thousand smiles,
 
 126 AFFLICTION. 
 
 and for one day of mourning there are whole years 
 of rejoicing. There is so much truth in this, that 
 when we hear the notes of gladness and enjoy- 
 ment, they scarcely fix our attention, they are so 
 common ; and when we hear the tones of sadness 
 and suffering, we turn that way with wonder and 
 surprise, so uncommon in the aggregate are such 
 tones in the music of this world's experience. 
 Happiness is the rule, misery the exception. This 
 is a verity, and it clearly demonstrates the good- 
 ness of the Creator and Ruler of our world. But 
 still, there is suffering in it. It has written its lines 
 on almost every countenance. Its wails come to us 
 from the mourning, and its groans from the dying. 
 How can God be good in permitting or sending it ? 
 My friends, this has been deemed a very hard ques- 
 tion, but I think we can all easily answer it, if we 
 will look into the nature of the being who is the 
 sufferer. What is the purpose of his being ? Not 
 merely to enjoy, but to grow to advance in knowl- 
 edge and virtue, to develop his intellectual and 
 moral powers, and to rise to true greatness the 
 greatness of moral excellence, by an exposure to 
 difficulty, danger, and suffering. I suppose that 
 God could have made the trees and the rocks 
 happy, and filled every pore of them with enjoy- 
 ment, but I know not how he could have made
 
 AFFLICTION. 127 
 
 man a being of intellectual and moral value in 
 other words, how he could have raised up a being 
 from nothingness and dust to the heights of knowl- 
 edge and moral excellence, without subjecting him 
 to danger, hardship, and suffering. He could, as 
 he does, make him innocent, without this severe 
 process, but not virtuous. Virtue, moral excel- 
 lence the true end and glory of man, is not a 
 communicated thing : it is the mind's own act and 
 work, and it is in the field of trial, and conflict, and 
 sorrow, that it is formed. 
 
 The world thinks little of it, but it is true, that 
 man's true glory fades and dies, or it would fade 
 and die, in the perpetual sunshine of favor and 
 enjoyment. Prosperity, alas ! the prosperity 
 that he courts so much, kills him. He cannot 
 bear it. Give him wealth, and he becomes proud. 
 Give him power, and he corrupts it, aye, corrupts 
 himself, and tyrannizes over his species. But God 
 knows how to humble him. God understands his 
 frame, he remembers that he is dust, and he visits 
 him with reverses, trials, conflicts, bereavements, 
 sufferings. And what do they do to him ? Fre- 
 quently they make his heart stoop, indeed, and in 
 a few cases, we grant, they crush him to the earth, 
 but they constitute a burden which it is good for 
 him to bear. They exercise his powers, and there-
 
 128 AFFLICTION. 
 
 by multiply his strength ; they arouse his atten- 
 tion to a thoughtfulness and study of his condition 
 and true interests, humble his pride, subdue his 
 stubbornness, chasten and refine his social and 
 moral feelings, giving him a heart more alive to 
 the wants of his fellow-pilgrims, and more ready 
 to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with 
 them that weep, and schooling his whole nature 
 to the love of that virtue and the observance of 
 those laws which are the true end and real good 
 of his being. 
 
 Be patient, my hearers, yet a little while, and I 
 will specify and briefly illustrate some of the par- 
 ticular benefits which flow to mankind from the 
 influence of adversity. There is no need that I 
 speak of the blessings of prosperity, because 
 these are comprehended ; but it is not so easy 
 for men to see that adversity teems with bless- 
 ings to the children of men, and therefore there 
 may be need that a word or two be spoken in their 
 behalf. 
 
 1. Adversity does much for the acquirement 
 and promotion of knowledge. Mankind have a 
 natural love of ease, and were it not for the influ- 
 ence of pain and suffering, they would be a race 
 of stupid, ignorant, degraded creatures. The ter- 
 rible fury of the tornado and the awful noise of
 
 / 
 
 AFFLICTION. 129 
 
 the earthquake may be thought to be dreadful dis- 
 cords in the music of nature, but if we had an ear 
 which took in all the sounds which make up the 
 great harmony of the universe, we should doubt- 
 less understand that the most fearful tones are, we 
 might say, the most necessary, inasmuch as they 
 are the only effectual means by which mankind 
 can be kept awake to their true good. If we 
 should look over the history of nations, we could 
 hardly fail to discover that the fearful judgments 
 and calamities which Providence has brought 
 down upon them, have had a mighty influence on 
 them for good, in calling the attention of the peo- 
 ple to their real condition, and in causing them to 
 use the means in their power to become acquaint- 
 ed with the sources of greatness and happiness. 
 And we can all see that this is the effect of adver- 
 sity in the common walks of life. How often do 
 we see the thoughtless and the giddy turned into 
 serious and anxious inquirers after the path of vir- 
 tue and the light of hope, by some instance of suf- 
 fering, by the approach of sickness or death ! And 
 how much would our physicians and physiologists 
 have known of the human frame, and of the laws 
 which govern the human system, if there had been 
 no disease and pain ? Very little very little in- 
 deed, in our opinion. The fact is, and it is one 
 13
 
 130 AFFLICTION. 
 
 which should lead us to see a grand purpose in the 
 existence of suffering in the present system, that 
 the whole stock of knowledge which modern 
 science gives of the nature of man has grown out 
 of his sufferings ; for had he not suffered, there 
 could have been no motive, higher than curiosity, 
 to study his nature, and his sufferings have answer- 
 ed the purpose of revealing the laws and purposes 
 of his nature, in the same way that the laws of 
 anything are most visibly revealed by the conse- 
 quences which follow a departure from them. 
 
 One purpose, then, for which suffering is inflict- 
 ed upon man, is to keep him from mental stupidi- 
 ty, to fix and confine his attention on serious and 
 important matters, and thereby to increase the 
 amount of his knowledge ; and could we see how 
 much has been done for both the progress of 
 science and the progress of Christianity by the in- 
 fluence of pain and sorrow, we should thank God 
 that he sends storms as well as the sunshine. 
 
 2. Adversity does much for the cultivation of 
 the social affections and virtues. Indeed, afflic- 
 tion is the only school in which these divine plants 
 can have a healthy growth and come to perfection. 
 Enter the most virtuous family where there has 
 been nothing but prosperity, where abundance, 
 health, and almost unbroken enjoyment have reign-
 
 AFFLICTION. 131 
 
 ed, and you will find a good degree of order and 
 peace, indeed, but you would find also, if you have 
 eyes which can penetrate the surface of things, 
 fretful and irritable dispositions an easy willing- 
 ness to find fault and pass condemnation, and very 
 little will be known of the highest social virtues, 
 such as pity, compassion, and forbearance. But 
 let the angel of adversity visit that family, and lay 
 one of its members upon the bed of sickness, and 
 a diviner influence will immediately commence its 
 work among them. All their little rivalries, con- 
 tentions, and animosities will be hushed, repented 
 of, and forgiven, and they will watch with breath- 
 less anxiety around the couch of the sufferer, to 
 see if they cannot do something to relieve or com- 
 fort him, if it be no more than to show him that 
 their hearts beat in pain with his ; and whether he 
 lives or dies, they will derive from this scene a 
 spirit which will be of greater benefit to them than 
 a whole lifetime of ease and pleasure. There 
 will be more tenderness and strength in their 
 affections, a greater readiness to feel each other's 
 sorrows, and to minister to each other's welfare, 
 and a deeper and broader sympathy toward their 
 neighbors. And so it is, not with one family 
 merely, but all over the world. The social virtues 
 do not thrive in the sunshine of continual prosperi-
 
 132 AFFLICTION. 
 
 ty. Peevishness, pride, and hatred will grow there 
 in rich abundance ; but if you would seek for sweet 
 and strong sympathies, for hearts quick to feel 
 every want and weep over every pain, and for all 
 the offices of tenderness, compassion, and undying 
 love, go where adversity has reigned where 
 darkness hath brooded where storms have raged 
 where frosts have blighted, and done dreadful 
 havoc with beauty, and loveliness, and affection. 
 In this spirit the great Spurzheim chose for his 
 wife a woman who had experienced great suffering, 
 believing that her social nature had been refined 
 and exalted by what she had suffered; and the 
 result verified the correctness of his opinion. And 
 we are certified that suffering was one of the ele- 
 ments in forming the perfection of Jesus Christ ; 
 for it is written, " The Captain of our salvation was 
 made perfect through suffering." And should we 
 expect to become perfect in either social or moral 
 virtue, without suffering ? No, we cannot spare 
 the influence of pain, bereavement, and sorrow. If 
 we truly know ourselves, we would rather spare 
 everything else. The voices which speak to us in 
 the sick chamber and in the grave-yard, are solemn 
 indeed, but they breathe an influence which is 
 stronger in behalf of virtue than all the other voices 
 which we hear. For what is the language which
 
 AFFLICTION. 133 
 
 they convey to the heart ? What sentiments do we 
 derive from communion with the sick and with the 
 dead ? Ah ! slow as the young and the thought- 
 less are to believe it, they are rich in meaning and 
 purifying in their influence. Who can witness a 
 fellow-being wasting away under some loathsome 
 disease, without feeling a deeper sentiment of pity 
 and compassion toward his feeble, erring, and 
 suffering race ; and who can follow the cold re- 
 mains of a neighbor, a friend, or even an enemy, 
 to the silent resting-place of our poor mortality, 
 without deep and moving thoughts, and without 
 purer and better feelings toward both the dead 
 and the living ? We pity the man, from our 
 very hearts we pity him, for his hardness of heart 
 we pity him, who can visit the chamber of sick- 
 ness, or stand over the fresh grave of the fallen, 
 and harbor an unkind thought or a hard feeling 
 toward a single being which wears .the human form, 
 even though he has enemies which have tried to 
 do him injury. " Truth should be there felt and 
 taught, in the silence of meditation, more persua- 
 sive, and more enduring, than ever flowed from 
 human lips. The grave hath a voice of eloquence 
 which speaks at once to the thoughtlessness of the 
 rash, and the devotion of the good ; which address- 
 es all times, and all ages, and all sexes ; which 
 12*
 
 134 AFFLICTION. 
 
 tells of wisdom to the wise, and of comfort to the 
 afflicted ; which warns us of our follies and our 
 dangers : which whispers to us in accents of peace, 
 or alarms us in tones of terror ; which steals with 
 a healing balm into the stricken heart, and lifts up 
 and supports the broken spirit ; which awakens 
 a new enthusiasm for virtue, and disciplines us for 
 its severer trials and duties ; which calls up the 
 images of the illustrious dead, with an animating 
 presence, for our example and glory ; and which 
 demands of us, that the powers given by God 
 should be devoted to his service, and that the 
 mind, created by his love, should return to him 
 with larger capacities for virtuous enjoyment, and 
 with more spiritual and intellectual brightness."* 
 
 3. Adversity does much also for the cultivation 
 of piely ; by which I mean, gratitude and resig- 
 nation toward God. I confess that I once thought 
 this impossible. I looked upon prosperity and 
 continuous enjoyment as the means of giving man- 
 kind confidence in the goodness of their Maker, 
 and of kindling their hearts into gratitude and 
 love toward him. But observation and experience 
 have led me to a different conclusion, and I say, 
 in the language of another, " The most sceptical 
 men, the most insensible to God's goodness, the 
 
 * Story.
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 most prone to murmur, rfay be found among 
 those who are laden above all others with the 
 goods of life, whose cup overflows with prosperi- 
 ty, and who, by an abuse of prosperity, have be- 
 come selfish, exacting, and all alive to inconve- 
 niences and privations. These are the cold-hearted 
 and the doubting. If I were to seek those whose 
 conviction of God's goodness is faintest and most 
 easily disturbed, I would seek them in the palace 
 sooner than in the hovel. I would go to the luxu- 
 rious table, to the pillow of ease, to those among 
 us who abound most, to the self- exalting, the self- 
 worshiping, not to the depressed and forsaken. 
 The profoundest sense of God's goodness which it 
 has been my privilege to witness, I have seen in 
 the countenance and heard from the lips of the 
 suffering. I have found none to lean on God with 
 such filial trust, as those whom he has afflicted. 
 I doubt, indeed, if true 1 gratitude and true confi- 
 dence ever spring up in the human soul, until it 
 has suffered. A superficial, sentimental recogni- 
 tion of God's goodness may indeed be found 
 among those who have lived only to enjoy. But 
 deep, strong, earnest piety strikes root in the soil 
 which has been broken and softened by calamity. 
 And such, I believe, is the observation of every
 
 136 AFFLICTION. 
 
 man who has watched the progress of human 
 character."* 
 
 I might speak of the beneficial influence of ad- 
 versity in another respect. I might show how 
 the dark dispensations of Providence teach man- 
 kind the value of the Gospel of Christ, and how 
 disappointment and bereavement give them a 
 relish for those streams of life and peace which 
 make glad the city of Zion. I might ask you to 
 go to the dark chamber of sickness, or the darker 
 chamber of death, where a beloved form is dressed 
 in its last robes, and where the bereaved hang 
 over it and weep with groanings which cannot be 
 uttered ; and I might show you that in such scenes 
 scenes which we must all witness, the voice of 
 the Gospel, which speaks of a glorious immortality 
 beyond the grave, and which brings the assurance 
 that all these afflictions will be overruled for good, 
 and terminate in greater purity and more substan- 
 tial happiness, is sweeter to the ear than honey to 
 the taste ; and you could not fail to conclude that 
 though men may neglect and even ridicule the 
 Gospel while they are in the gayety and sunshine 
 of prosperity, their folly is rebuked, and they are 
 made to see that it is more precious than ten 
 thousand worlds, when the darkness of affliction 
 * Charming.
 
 AFFLICTION. 137 
 
 and death settles around them. But I must not 
 speak on this subject. I have already drawn too 
 liberally upon your time, if not upon your patience. 
 And I have done what I undertook. I have given 
 you my thoughts on the reality, origin, and end of 
 human suffering. To reconcile all the mysteries 
 which hang about this great subject, and vindi- 
 cate all God's ways in his dark dispensations, I 
 have not had the folly to attempt. This is not 
 my business. God will take care of his <5wn ways, 
 and in due time he will vindicate the goodness 
 thereof to every creature, whether I comprehend 
 it or not. It is enough for me to know that the 
 mixed elements of my lot are under the direction 
 of a kind and good Being, and that the sufferings 
 which I am called to endure are ordained in mercy, 
 and have for their end the purification and eleva- 
 tion of my nature. And I have found this grand 
 truth in the teachings of Revelation and in the les- 
 sons of experience. I cannot doubt it. I see, 
 every day of my life, that man cannot bear con- 
 tinual prosperity ; that it corrupts him, makes 
 him proud, peevish, overbearing, selfish, and sen- 
 sual, and would blot out his true glory ; and I see 
 that it is the sublime purpose of adversity to 
 check and humble his pride, to give him serious 
 thoughts and tender feelings, to discipline and
 
 138 AFFLICTION. 
 
 strengthen his social and moral powers, and thus 
 to lead him forth to righteousness and victory. I 
 bless God, therefore, for the storm, as well as for 
 the sunshine for suffering, as well as for enjoy- 
 ment. I pretend not to see his goodness in every 
 instance and form in which it is inflicted, but I 
 should not dare, had I the power, to stretch forth 
 my hand to lessen its amount, in the present state 
 of human nature. Man needs its swe.et but saluta- 
 ry influence. " Favor," even in fortune, " is deceit- 
 ful," and leads ten thousands in ruinous paths ; but 
 
 " This is no flattery ; these are counselors 
 That feelingly persuade me what I am. 
 Sweet are the uses of adversity ; 
 Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 
 Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." 
 
 Let man, then, conclude with the poet : 
 
 " What, then, am II 
 
 Amidst applauding worlds, 
 And worlds celestial, is there found on earth 
 A peevish, dissoriant, rebellious string, 
 Which jars in the grand chorus, and complains 1 
 
 All, aH is right, by God ordained or done ; 
 And who, but God, resumed the friends he gave 1 
 And have I been complaining, then, so long 1 
 Complaining of his favors, pain and death 1 
 Who, without pain's advice, would e'er be good 1 
 Who, without death, but would be good in vain 1
 
 AFFLICTION. 139 
 
 Pain is to save from pain ; all punishment 
 
 To make for peace ; and death to save from death. 
 
 ********* 
 Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene ; 
 Removes them, to prepare us for the next. 
 All evils natural are moral goods ; 
 All discipline indulgence, on the whole. 
 
 Great God of wonders ! 
 
 What rocks are these on which to build our trust ! 
 Thy ways admit no blemish ; none I find ; 
 Or this alone, that none is to be found : 
 Not one, to soften Censure's hardy crimes ; 
 Not one, to palliate peevish grief's complaint, 
 Who, like a demon, murmuring from the dust, 
 Dares into judgment call his judge Supreme ! 
 For all I bless thee ; most for the severe ; 
 It thunders, but it thunders to preserve ; 
 It strengthens what it strikes ; its hideous groans 
 Join heaven's sweet hallelujahs in thy praise, 
 Great Source of good alone ! how kind in all ! 
 In vengeance kiud, in pain and death." 
 
 "Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is 
 within me, bless his holy name ; who forgiveth 
 all thine iniquities ; who healeth all thy diseases ; 
 who redeemeth thy life from destruction ; who 
 crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender 
 mercies."
 
 MAN CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 
 
 " So God created man in his own image." Gen. i., 27. 
 
 THIS was the last and noblest work of the 
 Creator. He had arched the heavens and mould- 
 ed the earth ; he had set bounds to the great deep, 
 and caused the dry land to appear ; he had clothed 
 the mountains with verdure, and filled the vales 
 with life and beauty ; he had peopled the waters 
 with the finny tribes, with " great whales" and the 
 mighty leviathan ; he had made the air to swarm 
 with the humming insect and " flying fowl," and 
 he had covered the earth with " cattle and creep- 
 ing things ;" but there was as yet nothing within 
 the boundaries of the new creation which was 
 worthy to receive the impress of. his own nature. 
 " 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 creeping thing that creepeth upon 
 the earth. So God created man in his own image, 
 in the image of God created he him ; male and
 
 '. * * 
 
 * ,&. 
 
 MAN CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 141 
 
 female created he them ; and God blessed them, 
 and said unto them, Replenish the earth, and 
 subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the 
 sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every 
 living thing that moveth upon the earth." 
 
 Here is the beginning of wisdom. Here is the 
 basis of all moral truth. To man there are no 
 greater questions than these: What is my na- 
 ture? and what was I made for? If he cannot 
 answer, he is wofully blind and ignorant of every- 
 thing that most vitally concerns his true interest 
 and welfare, however learned he may be in litera- 
 ture and science. He knows not the law and 
 purpose of his being, and he is as little prepared 
 to see the wisdom of God in the constitution of 
 his nature, and to act well his part on the stage of 
 human life, as the mariner would be to shun the 
 perils of the ocean, if he should push out to sea 
 ignorant of the several parts of his vessel and of 
 their uses, and without chart or compass with 
 which to regulate his passage. 
 
 " God created man in his own image." What 
 does this mean ? Is it true ? And what light does 
 it shed on human nature, duty, and destiny ? These 
 questions seem to cover the main ground of the 
 subject-matter of the text, and I feel that I can- 
 18
 
 .42 
 
 MAN CREATED 
 
 not better employ your minds at the present time 
 than in their discussion. 
 
 I. What are we to understand by the state- 
 ment that "God created man in his own image?" 
 An image is the representation or likeness of a 
 thing. It has long been a custom to enstamp the 
 image of the reigning king or ruler upon the coins 
 that are put into circulation, and when this has 
 been done, the features of the original have had 
 an impression upon the circulating medium. We 
 have a case in point in the Gospel history. Some 
 cavilers came to Christ with the question, " Is it 
 lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not ? And 
 Jesus said unto them, Show me the tribute money. 
 And they brought unto him a penny. And he 
 saith unto them, Whose is this image and super- 
 scription? They say unto him, Ceesar's." The 
 penny wore the impression of Caesar's features, 
 and therefore they could not mistake its parent- 
 age and ownership. So it is with man. The 
 image of God is enstamped upon his nature. The 
 features of the Divine Mind are drawn upon his 
 own, and he who will read them cannot doubt the 
 divinity of his parentage. 
 
 We shall obtain more distinct conceptions of 
 the nature of the divine image in man by consider- 
 ing the nature and attributes of God. " God is a
 
 IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 
 
 Spirit," said the great Teacher, and all creation 
 proclaims the same truth. The laws of nature all 
 point us to a spiritual existence above them, " who, 
 retired behind his own creation, works unseen." 
 Gross, unthinking matter could no more have been 
 the cause of creation and her wonderful operations, 
 than eternal darkness could have been the cause 
 of the existence of light. Hence philosophy and 
 revelation are one in saying that the Author of 
 nature is a spiritual being. He is Mind. He is 
 Infinite Intelligence. Now here we may see the 
 nature of the divine image in man. He is not all 
 matter. " The life is more than meat." He has 
 a spiritual, intellectual nature. A ray of the di- 
 vine light is given him, and it makes him a being 
 of thought, intelligence, knowledge. But we 
 must not stop here. God is not mere Intelligence. 
 There is a higher principle in his nature. He is a 
 moral, as well as a mental being. " Justice and 
 judgment are the habitation of his throne." Per- 
 fect Rectitude, impartial Equity, unspotted and 
 everlasting Purity, and infinite Benevolence, are 
 the qualities of his nature, and the laws of his gov- 
 ernment; and they make it inconsistent with his 
 own happiness and the welfare of his subjects to 
 do wickedly, or pervert judgment. And here do 
 we see what is the highest glory of the divine
 
 144 MAN CREATED 
 
 image in man. He is not only an intellectual, but 
 a moral being. The ideas of justice, of right, of 
 rectitude, and of benevolence, are the noblest ele- 
 ments of his being ; and in virtue of these elements, 
 sin is inconsistent with his nature and welfare ; 
 moral purity is his natural element, and the only 
 one in which he can be happy. 
 
 When, therefore, it is said that " God created 
 man in his own image," the simple meaning is, 
 that man was endowed with an intellectual and 
 moral nature. There is nothing in it to favor the 
 idea (which some have supposed to have been 
 the meaning of the sacred writer) that man was 
 made immortal or incorruptible ; but the whole of 
 the matter is simply this, that a likeness of the 
 divine attributes was impressed upon human na- 
 ture, making man an intellectual and moral being. 
 This view is abundantly confirmed by the Apostle 
 Paul, who defines the image of God to be " knowl- 
 edge," " righteousness and true holiness ;" that is, 
 moral purity. 
 
 II. Let us now inquire, Is this true 1 True ! I 
 need not ask this question, except for the purpose 
 of saying a few things by way of confirmation. 
 Little as some men think, and much as some men 
 doubt, there can be but few who will call in ques- 
 tion the doctrine of the text. And if there are
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 145 
 
 any such, we believe that their scepticism can be 
 removed by their looking into the nature of man. 
 The time has been when the Mosaic account of the 
 creation of the world was denied, even by men of 
 science ; and it was confidently said, that the be- 
 ginning of the Bible was a lie, and that, for aught 
 that man could tell, the world has existed forever ; 
 but since then, the bosom of the earth has been 
 bored and dug, and her successive strata and the 
 remains of her former children have been laid open 
 to the gaze of a doubting world ; and the conse- 
 quence has been, that the recent creation of the 
 eatth, with its productions and inhabitants, has been 
 made, not a matter of mere faith, but of positive 
 demonstration. So here : if there are any who 
 doubt that the Bible tells the truth when it says 
 that "God created man in his own image," they 
 will find a cure for their scepticism in the investi- 
 gation of the nature of man. Let them penetrate 
 its crust ; let them go beneath its surface, and lay 
 open its inward strata ; and let them read the 
 prints and impressions of the divine hand, and 
 decipher the hieroglyphics that are written upon 
 the soul ; and they will find the image of God, 
 distinct and clear, on the tablet of human nature, 
 and they will henceforth look upon man, not as a 
 mere lump of animated clay, but as a spiritual 
 13*
 
 146 MAN CREATED 
 
 being ; not as a brute, but the child of God ; not as 
 the insect of a day, but the heir of immortality. 
 
 " Call now to mind what high, 
 Capacious powers lie folded up in man." 
 
 Look upon his works. Mark his conquests over 
 nature. Read the productions of his genius. Proofs 
 of mental weakness and folly you will doubtless 
 find, but you cannot look upon the temples he has 
 reared, the cities he has built, the continents he 
 has explored and subdued, much less can you ex- 
 amine the arts and sciences which he has devel- 
 oped, and the systems of law and philosophy 
 which he has elaborated, without being led to the 
 conclusion that there is within him an intellectual 
 energy which claims kindred with that mighty 
 Mind which contrived and built this vast and glo- 
 rious universe. So evident is the fact that man is 
 an intellectual being, that it has never been de- 
 nied, certainly by no man of intelligence ; l)ut there 
 has been one wa/ by which some men, calling 
 themselves philosophers, have endeavored to prove 
 that intelligence,, is not a natural attribute. It 
 has been said that man's powers are the result 
 of education ;-. that they are not innate, but the 
 growth of circumstances. This is a part of that 
 system of philosophy which has contended that 
 there has been no such thing as absolute creation
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 147 
 
 in nature, but that everything has sprouted and 
 grown up spontaneously. They have imagined 
 that the earth, somehow or other, in some strange 
 way, but in a fortunate moment, brought forth a 
 vegetable, that this grew awhile, and then sprout- 
 ed up into an animal, and that the animal crawled 
 about awhile upon the earth, but, through in- 
 convenience or pride, it soon took to itself legs, 
 which happened to come that way at the right 
 time, and walked, and finally, aspiring still higher, 
 it threw away its fore legs and paws, and took a 
 pair of arms and hands, and became a man ! On 
 this hypothesis, the elephant once had no trunk, 
 and the birds no bills nor wings, but they gradu- 
 ally grew out as they made efforts to gather their 
 food, or to fly ! And accordingly, it has been 
 argued that the mental powers which so distinguish 
 and ennoble man are not innate, were not originally 
 created in him, but are the result of effort, the 
 product of circumstances, the fruit of education. 
 
 Now, if this theory could be sustained, the idea 
 that God created man after his own image, might 
 be all a delusion ; the dream of the atheist might 
 be a reality, and man would trace his pedigree 
 and find his parentage in the brute, and thence 
 downward to the vegetable, and lower still, down 
 down to nothing ! But the theory will not abide
 
 148 MAN CREATED 
 
 the test of facts. Who ever knew vegetables 
 grow up into animals, and animals into men ? 
 Who ever saw an elephant without a trunk, or 
 birds without bills or wings ? We should really 
 like to know ! But we suspect that nothing of 
 this kind was ever seen, and for a good reason, 
 because nothing of the kind ever existed. This 
 is the decision of modern science. The discoveries 
 in geology and physiology have abundantly proved 
 that each species of plants and animals is distinct 
 and separate, not intermingling one with another, 
 nor growing out of each other, being endowed at 
 the moment of their creation with the perfect 
 germs or attributes of all that they will be in their 
 maturity. Hence every species of the vegetable 
 kingdom, and every tribe of animals, is the same 
 now, in the essential properties of their nature, as 
 when they were first called into being. Time, 
 circumstances, education, may have developed 
 their qualities and powers, but they have not, be- 
 cause they could not have, created them. Talk of 
 education creating the powers of the mind ! There 
 cannot be a greater absurdity. You might as 
 well say that education would create wings on our 
 bodies, or give us another set of ears or eyes ! It 
 is the work of education, not to create, but to 
 train, develop, cultivate, what already exists.
 
 IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 149 
 
 Education learns the young bird how to fly ; but 
 it did not create its wings ; these were the work 
 of its Maker, and they were folded up in the very 
 egg whose shell'it has left behind it. And so it 
 is with man. When he comes from the hand of 
 his Maker, he has within him the germs of all that 
 he is ever to become, either in this world or in the 
 future ; and all that education, philosophy, or 
 revelation can do, is to bring out his primitive 
 powers, and guide them to their legitimate objects. 
 Newton, when he lay " mewling and puking in 
 his nurse's arms," possessed within the folds of 
 his inward being every attribute of that godlike 
 intellect which afterward weighed the planets hi 
 its scales, and unraveled the laws which govern 
 their action. It was effort, education, discipline, 
 which called out his powers, and made him suc- 
 cessful in his career of glory. And if you, and I, 
 and the rest of our race, are ignorant like the beasts 
 which perish, and our minds are unenlightened, 
 unstored with knowledge, it is not because God 
 has denied us the requisite capacities, but because 
 we have neglected to employ them ; and though 
 it may not be true that we are all endowed with 
 the same degree of mental capacity at our crea- 
 tion, yet it may be put down as a fact that the 
 differences among us, in point of knowledge, are
 
 150 MAN CREATED 
 
 owing more to circumstances than nature, more 
 to education than innate capacity. 
 
 It is therefore a matter of demonstration that 
 man is naturally an intellectual being ; and so it 
 is that he is naturally a moral being. And when 
 we say that man is naturally a moral being, we 
 mean that his nature is cast in such a mould 
 that his faculties are of such a constitutional char- 
 acter, that virtue is his natural condition, and 
 moral purity the only element in which he can be 
 happy. We know that different views of our na- 
 ture are entertained. There are philosophers, as 
 they call themselves, who view virtue as a mere 
 accident of our nature, as the product of habit or 
 education ; and there are theologians who affirm 
 that there is naturally no good thing about man, 
 and that his nature must be worked over, be made 
 anew, before he can perform a virtuous deed. But 
 we believe that our position can be abundantly 
 sustained, that man is naturally a moral being ; 
 and there are two facts which would seem to be 
 enough to put the matter beyond the reach of 
 cavil. 
 
 1. Man has moral faculties or affections, and 
 they are the highest portion of his nature. 
 
 The moral is placed above the animal, and in- 
 vested with authority to govern it. Conscience,
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 151 
 
 the divinity within, is the highest power of the 
 soul. When man hearkens to its sacred and au- 
 thoritative voice, when he listens to the dictates 
 of his moral nature, he resists the impulses of his 
 appetites and passions, gets the victory over 
 temptations, and fulfills the law and purpose of his 
 being in maintaining a course of virtue and purity. 
 This is his natural condition. But when he turns 
 a deaf ear to the voice of his moral nature, and 
 gives himself up to the guidance of his animal 
 appetites and passions, he reverses the order, and 
 violates the law of his nature, and thus becomes 
 a sinner. You say of a fish, that it was made to 
 live in the water; and of a bird, that it was de- 
 signed for the air ; because they are physically 
 adapted to these different elements. So with 
 man. His faculties are adapted to virtue ; he has 
 a moral nature ; and when he goes into vice, he 
 goes out of his natural element. We shall come 
 to the same conclusion, if we consider, 
 
 2. The effects of vice. Man, we very well know, ' 
 has sinned, and come short of the glory of God. 
 His nature, we confess, has been corrupted, de- 
 praved, degraded ; he has reversed the order, and 
 violated the law of God within him ; and this is 
 sometimes referred to as proof that depravity is 
 his natural element, and that the image of God
 
 152 MAN CREATED 
 
 has been blotted out from his nature. We admit 
 the fact, but we draw from it a different conclu- 
 sion. You tell me that man is a great sinner. I 
 grant it ; I know it. What then ? Why, that he 
 has a great capacity for virtue, for goodness. 
 " Sin is the transgression of the law ;" and if the 
 law of duty, of virtue, were not written on his 
 heart, he could not be a sinner in transgressing it ; 
 indeed, he could not transgress it, if it were not 
 written there, because he could have no sense of 
 virtue before sinning, and no sense of guilt when 
 and after he had sinned. 
 
 There is another fact which has more weight 
 than the opinions of divines, and which clearly 
 proves that all this depravity is unnatural. It is 
 this : What is its effect 1 What influence does it 
 exert on man ? Does it exalt and ennoble him ? 
 Does it carry peace, joy, .and contentment to the 
 soul ? Does he find it the way of prosperity and 
 happiness ? If so, depravity is natural to him ; 
 it is his true element, and he had better remain in 
 it forever. But no. Depravity, sin, is a deadly 
 enemy to man. 
 
 It destroys the divine harmony of his nature, 
 eats away its beauty like a moth, and makes him 
 uneasy, discontented, unhappy. It pollutes all 
 the fountains of enjoyment within him, and fre-
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 153 
 
 quently forces him to use the language which 
 Milton has put into the mouth of Satan, 
 
 " Me miserable ! 
 
 Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell, 
 And in the lowest deep." 
 
 Now why is this ? It is because depravity is 
 an unnatural condition. It is because man has a 
 moral nature, and because he can find no peace, 
 no happiness, but in moral purity, the element in 
 which he was created. When you see a fish 
 gasping upon the shore, you say it is unhappy, 
 because it is out of its natural element ; and when 
 we see. man uneasy, unhappy in his depravity and 
 sin, we know that it is because he is in an unnat- 
 ural state, because he has departed from the 
 original purity of his nature. 
 
 Moses, then, was dealing in, no. fiction when he 
 affirmed that " God created man in his own 
 image." He declared a truth which can yet be 
 read upon his inner nature. Ignorant and de- 
 praved though he be, enslaved and degraded as he 
 is, there is still to be discerned the distinct and 
 clear impressions of the attributes of his Maker 
 upon him. He has intellectual and moral facul- 
 ties, and these are his highest powers. They con- 
 stitute the man, and should regulate his whole 
 14
 
 154 MAN CREATED 
 
 conduct. They give him dominion over " every 
 living thing that moveth upon the earth," and 
 over "the subtle beast" of his own animal na- 
 ture ; and when he maintains this dominion, and 
 regulates his whole conduct by enlightened rea- 
 son and a good conscience, he stands forth in his 
 true glory ; " the benignity, serenity, and splen- 
 dor of a highly-elevated nature beam from his 
 countenance, and radiate from his eye. He is 
 then lovely, noble, and gigantically great." And 
 when he allows his appetites and passions to lead 
 him astray, and this divine order is broken, the 
 degradation and misery, which are the certain 
 consequences of sin, proclaim, in tones of sad but 
 truthful eloquence, that the image of God yet 
 shines within him, revealing to him his guilt, and 
 giving him a withering sense of his fallen condi- 
 tion, and causing him to say as the Prodigal did 
 while afar off in the barren land of transgression, 
 " Iperiih ; 1 will arise and go to my Father." And 
 these facts show, not only that man was created 
 in the Divine image at the beginning of our race, 
 but that he still wears this image ; for if this 
 were not the case, he could be neither a moral 
 nor an accountable being. And this is confirmed 
 by the Apostle James, who says, " Men ARE made 
 after the similitude of God."
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 155 
 
 III. We now come to make a practical improve- 
 ment of the truth which we have illustrated and 
 defended. Man wears the image of God. What 
 conclusions shall we draw from this great fact ? 
 
 1. We may here learn the digaity and worth of 
 Human Nature. It is not created with powers 
 which place it above the possibility of error and 
 sin ; to use the expressive language of an Apostle, 
 it is created " subject to vanity ;" but it has ca- 
 pacities and desires for truth, purity, and perfec- 
 tion ; and when, through its present weakness, it 
 falls short of their attainment, the dissatisfaction, 
 pain, and woe which it experiences bear eloquent 
 testimony to the fact, that it has fallen from its 
 true sphere, from its natural dignity and glory. 
 How clearly do we here see the grossness and the 
 folly of the two views of our nature, which have 
 been too common in all ages, the one contending 
 that man is a mere animal, with a little more intel- 
 lect, it may be, but endowed with no high moral 
 qualities, and intended no more for the attainment 
 of knowledge and virtue than he was to live in ig- 
 norance and vice ; the other affirming that our 
 nature is a hateful mass of moral corruption, de- 
 void f every natural capacity for virtue' and good- 
 ness, and incapable of a pure thought or a virtu- 
 ous deed, until it is worked over and made anew !
 
 156 MAN CREATED 
 
 We can say in the language of Channing : 
 
 " I do and I must reverence human nature. Nei- 
 
 t 
 
 ther the sneers of a worldly scepticism, nor the 
 groans of a gloomy theology, disturb my faith in 
 its godlike powers and tendencies. I know how 
 it is despised, how it has been oppressed, how 
 civil and religious establishments have for ages 
 conspired to crush it. I know its history. I shut 
 my eyes on none of its weaknesses and crimes. I 
 know the proofs by which despotism demonstrates 
 that man is a wild beast, in want of a master, and 
 only safe in chains. But injured, scorned, and 
 trampled on as our nature is, I stil 1 turn to it with 
 intense sympathy and strong hope. The signa- 
 tures of its origin and its end are too deeply im- 
 pressed upon it to be ever wholly effaced. I bless 
 it for its kind affections, for its strong and tender 
 love. I honor it for its struggles against oppres- 
 sion, for its growth and progress under the weight 
 of so many chains and prejudices, for its achieve- 
 ments in science and art, and still more for its ex- 
 amples of heroic and saintly virtue; and I thank 
 God that my own lot is bound up with that of 
 the human race." 
 
 In this view of our nature, we find an answer 
 to the inquiry which arose in the mind of the 
 Psalmist, when he cast his eye abroad over the
 
 IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 157 
 
 universe, and beheld the infinitude of the Creator's 
 works : " Lord, what is man, that thou art mind- 
 ful of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest 
 him ?" How natural was the inquiry ! Who has 
 not felt, when, in some bright and beautiful even- 
 ing, he has gazed away into the blue heavens, and 
 looked upon the unnumbered worlds that people 
 the realms of space, who has not then felt that 
 man is too insignificant a creature in the universe 
 to receive the care and protection of his Maker ? 
 Who has not then felt that the Being who presides 
 over such vast domains cannot stoop so low as to 
 be mindful of him, and to visit him with a Saviour 
 and with revelations of his will and requirements ? 
 So felt the Psalmist when he considered the heav- 
 ens, the moon, and the stars which God had or- 
 dained. But he was relieved from the trouble- 
 some thought and the sinking feeling, when he 
 called home his discursive spirit, and turned his 
 mind inward upon the nature of man. He saw 
 there the image of his Maker ; he perceived that 
 he had an intellectual and moral constitution which 
 made him superior to all the glories and wonders 
 of the material universe. He then seized his harp 
 anew, and sung an answer to the question : " Lord, 
 what is man, that thou art mindful of him ?" 
 " For thou hast made him a little lower than the 
 14*
 
 158 MAN CREATED 
 
 angels, and hast crowned him with glory and 
 honor. Thou madest him 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 field, the fowl of the air, the 
 fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through 
 the depth of the sea. O Lord our God, how 
 excellent is thy name in all the earth !" And 
 if we have correct views of our nature, we shall 
 see beauty in all the works of God, and we shall 
 feel, without pride, that we are of more value in 
 his sight than many worlds, that the very " hairs 
 of our head are numbered" before him, and that 
 there is not a want in our nature which has not 
 provided means to satisfy. We shall read the rec- 
 ords of Revelation, and in the mission of prophets 
 and the visit of the Son of God, in their astonish- 
 ing annunciations and their wonderful miracles, 
 when the heavens spoke and the grave gave up its 
 dead, we shall see nothing incredible nothing in- 
 consistent with the works and ways of God, but 
 we shall regard these things as speaking and faith- 
 ful witnesses of his mindfulness of his children, 
 and as the means of giving them a knowledge of 
 himself, of his everlasting love and his holy laws, 
 and of carrying them forward to the perfection 
 and glory of their being.
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 159 
 
 2. What clear and useful light does our subject 
 shed upon human duty ! It not only shows that 
 a course of sin is inconsistent with the nature and 
 welfare of man, but that he should seek his glory 
 and happiness, not in mere earthliness and world- 
 liness, but in the culture of his intellectual and 
 moral powers. He may and he should take an 
 interest in the things of this world, and it is his 
 duty to make a portion of them his own ; but if his 
 attention and affections are all confined to these 
 transient, perishing objects if he does not employ 
 his intellect and his moral nature in the study of 
 truth, in the acquirement of knowledge, and in the 
 love and practice of virtue, he perverts the great 
 purpose of his being, and he is " poor indeed." 
 He may and he should labor for the meat which 
 perisheth, for the means of preserving and enjoy- 
 ing an animal existence, but he should labor harder 
 for that which endureth unto everlasting life, for 
 the elevation and gratification of his intellectual 
 and moral nature, for the acquisition of a correct 
 knowledge of God and his government, and for 
 increase and triumph in moral excellence. 
 
 Look, my friends, within you. Read the writ- 
 ing which the divine hand has put upon the soul. 
 " Whose image and superscription is this?" Say 
 you not, " It is God's ?" Wherefore, let me say,
 
 160 MAN CREATED 
 
 " render unto him the things which are his." 
 Give him your affections, your gratitude, your 
 obedience. Let every faculty of your nature be 
 kept in agreement with his laws. Love him with 
 all your hearts, and with all your strength, and 
 with all your souls. 
 
 " Let deep this truth impress our mind, 
 
 Through all his works abroad, 
 The heart benevolent and kind, 
 
 The most resembles God." 
 
 And, 3. What light does this subject shed on 
 the question in regard to human destiny ? Does 
 it not furnish proof that the Chiistian hope of 
 immortality has a foundation in human nature ? 
 Does it not give at least strong presumptive evi- 
 dence that man was made for a higher and beeter 
 life than the present ? How others view the mat- 
 ter I cannot say ; but, for one, I cannot see how 
 an affirmative answer can be avoided ; I cannot 
 see why man was endowed with the image of his 
 Maker ; why his intellectual and moral powers 
 were conferred upon him, giving him " thoughts 
 which wander through eternity," and aspirations 
 after infinite and eternal good, if his career was to 
 end at the grave, and the light within him quenched 
 in eternal night. Why, if this is to be his doom,
 
 IN THE IMAGE OP GOD. 161 
 
 were not his powers adapted to his end ? Why 
 not made a brute, if he is to perish with the brute ? 
 Why do his thoughts claim an infinite field for 
 their exercise, and an imperishable good for their 
 end, if he was not made for immortality ? I must 
 adopt the conclusion of an Apostle : " The crea- 
 ture was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but 
 by reason of Him who hath subjected the same in 
 hope, because the creature itself also shall be de- 
 livered from the bondage of corruption, into the 
 glorious liberty of the children of God." " For 
 this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this 
 mortal immortality." 
 
 " It must be so," Paul, " thou reasonest well ! 
 Else, whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, 
 This longing after immortality 1 
 Or, whence this secret dread and inward horror, 
 Of falling into naught 1 Why shrinks the soul 
 Back on herself, and startles at destruction 1 
 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 
 "Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 
 And intimates eternity to man." 
 
 I read this glorious truth in the teachings of 
 Christianity and in the nature, capacities, and 
 aspirations of the human mind. I think I cannot 
 be mistaken in supposing that the image of God 
 in man makes him of more worth than the whole 
 outward universe, and that it will exist and reflect
 
 162 MAN CREATED 
 
 the glories of its Maker, after the present form of 
 our creation shall have passed away. 
 
 " The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years ; 
 But this shall flourish in .immortal youth, 
 Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
 The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds." 
 
 And we may not only learn from this subject, 
 that man shall have immortality, but that it will 
 be an immortality which will be a blessing to all 
 our race. 
 
 It does not seem consistent or reasonable, that 
 God would banish his own image, his own child, 
 from him forever. What if it is now corrupt ? 
 Has he not power to cleanse it ? What if he is 
 now a transgressor ? Will he not still require him 
 to obey him ; and will he not continue to love him, 
 and strive to bring him into the enjoyment of his 
 favor ? Because he is so unfortunate as to have 
 gone astray, will God forever disown him, and give 
 him over to the service and dominion of an infinite 
 being, called the Devil ? Be not hasty in your 
 conclusion. Look on the heart of Humanity. 
 Read the writing on human nature. " Whose 
 image and superscription is this ?" Ah ! it is 
 God's. "Render unto God, therefore, the things 
 that are God's." Consent that he will eternally
 
 IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. 163 
 
 claim the obedience of his offspring, and that the 
 ends of his government will not be answered, till 
 all shall pay the tribute of their love into the treas- 
 ury of heaven, and are made the heirs and recip- 
 ients of an incorruptible and fadeless inheritance. 
 The image which they wear upon their nature 
 may be soiled and marred, while in its present incip- 
 ient state, but it shall be made bright and glo- 
 rious in its ascent to the world for which it is 
 destined. And so it is written : " It is sown in 
 corruption ; it is raised in incorruption. It is sown 
 in dishonor ; it is raised in glory. It is sown in 
 weakness ; it is raised in power. It is sown a 
 natural body ; it is raised a spiritual body. 
 There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual 
 body." " The dust shall return to the earth as it 
 was ; and the spirit shall return unto God who 
 gave it." 
 
 " Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is 
 
 within me, bless his holy name," 
 
 '
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 " And he came to himself." Luke xv.. 17. 
 
 SIN is always held up in the Bible as the great- 
 est evil under the sun, and the figures which the 
 sacred writers employ to describe its nature and 
 influence are strikingly significant of blight and 
 ruin to the happiness of man. It is generally 
 compared to some loathsome and mortal disease ; 
 frequently it is represented under the figure of 
 that worst of all diseases the leprosy, which, 
 although unseen in its first stages, and slow in its 
 progress, leads to the most ruinous and dreadful 
 consequences. In the words which I have just 
 read, or in the great lesson of our Saviour from 
 which they are taken, it is set forth as a moral in- 
 sanity, and in this light I propose to consider it in 
 the present discourse. I will consider, 
 
 I. Its Nature. 
 II. Its Causes. 
 
 III. Its Effects. And 
 
 IV. Its Treatment and Cure. 
 
 I. The nature of sin what is it ? In the par-
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 165 
 
 able of the Prodigal Son, it is represented as a 
 state of moral insanity. The young man, though 
 blessed with all the means of enjoyment which a 
 good home and a kind father could afford, be- 
 comes uneasy, discontented, and finally takes his 
 portion of the estate, and makes his way into a far 
 country. He there spends his property in the 
 haunts of degradation and vice, and reduces him- 
 self to a state of the most abject want and misery. 
 And while suffering the sad effects of his folly, 
 "he came to himself," and he then said, "I will 
 arise and go to my father." You see, therefore, 
 that he is represented as being in a state of insan- 
 ity when he went astray, and until he learned that 
 there was no permanent happiness but in the house 
 which he had deserted. Now what is the philos- 
 ophy of this matter ? Wherein lies the propri- 
 ety of calling sin a species of insanity ? 
 
 Insanity, you must all know, is a disease which 
 has severely tried the wisdom of the wisest men. 
 Through all ages it has been regarded as the worst 
 of maladies and the greatest of mysteries. While 
 all have seen and lamented its evils, few have ven- 
 tured to unravel its nature. Very generally, it has 
 been looked upon as an effect for which no cause 
 could be found, or as a judgment from God for 
 something which no mortal could understand- 
 15
 
 166 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 But we believe that the progress of mental science 
 has thrown some light upon it, though, it must be 
 confessed, not yet enough to scatter all the darkness 
 that lies around it. Since the days of Gall, Rush, 
 and Spurzheim, the human mind has been more and 
 more regarded as being made up of a variety of 
 animal, intellectual, and moral faculties, and so 
 much has been done in the way of discovering 
 their functions, that light now shines where there 
 was formerly nothing but darkness. When these 
 faculties are all in a healthy state, and in harmo- 
 nious action, the mind is perfectly sane ; every 
 power in the wonderful machine fulfills its mission, 
 and the man stands forth in all the dignity and 
 glory of his nature. But when one or more of the 
 faculties, in consequence of some undue excite- 
 ment, becomes unhealthy, irregular in its action, 
 then the mind falls into a state of insanity, and the 
 degree of insanity will be in proportion to the num- 
 ber of the faculties which are thus affected, and the 
 extent or degree in which they are thus affected. 
 If only one of the faculties are disturbed in its 
 functions, the mind will be sound on all subjects 
 but one, and the degree of that insanity will de- 
 pend upon the amount of injury done to it. 
 
 Insanity, then, according to this view of the 
 matter, is nothing more nor less than derangement
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 167 
 
 derangement of one or more faculties of the 
 mind ; and, consequently, there are as many 
 species of insanity as there are kinds of facul- 
 ties. And how many kinds of faculties are there 
 in man ? Evidently three the animal, intel- 
 lectual, and moral. The animal is the source of 
 his appetites and propensities, making him a crea- 
 ture of this world ; and when they act within the 
 bounds which nature has set to their gratification, 
 they fulfill their offices, and minister to his welfare ; 
 but when they overleap these bounds, and run 
 into wild, unlawful excesses, the order among them 
 is broken, and they fall into derangement. This 
 is animal insanity. The intellectual faculties are 
 the powers which have been given him for the at- 
 tainment of knowledge, and by which to choose 
 his way in the walks of life ; they are the means 
 through which he observes facts, and rises to the 
 comprehension of laws and principles ; and when 
 they are all in healthy and harmonious action, his in- 
 tellect is clear and sound, his memory and judgment 
 are good ; and he will shed the sun-light of wisdom 
 on all subj ects to which he gives his attention ; 
 but when these faculties become unduly excited, or 
 they are directed into wrong channels, they fall 
 into derangement, reason leaves her royal throne, 
 and " the dome of thought, the palace of the
 
 168 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 soul," crumbles to a heap of noble ruins. This 
 is intellectual insanity. But there is a higher na- 
 ture and a worse insanity than this. Man has 
 moral faculties, and they are his highest, no- 
 blest powers. In these originate all his ideas of 
 right, of justice, of benevolence, of veneration, 
 of duty, and they make it the end and aim of his 
 being to " depart from evil and do good, to seek 
 peace and pursue it," to restrain his appetites and 
 passions, and keep them within the bounds of mor- 
 al virtue, and to square all his conduct by the 
 dictates of a pure conscience. And when he does 
 this, he maintains the true glory of a moral being, 
 he wears a crown upon his head which gives him 
 more dignity than the richest badge of royalty 
 ever worn by king. He then treads the allure- 
 ments and temptations of the world under his feet, 
 lives in an atmosphere of moral purity, considers 
 virtue the only true good, and vice the greatest 
 curse of his nature, and reaps a rich reward in 
 constant harmony and peace of soul. But when this 
 moral harmony is broken, when appetite and pas- 
 sion get the ascendency over the moral nature, over 
 conscience, and the solemn voice, which speaks of 
 virtue as the supreme good, is drowned by the 
 clamor and noise of the propensities, his noblest 
 powers fall into disorder and derangement, and he
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 169 
 
 sinks into degradation and ruin. This is moral in- 
 sanity ; and it is to be " deplored as human na- 
 ture's darkest,- foulest blot," as the greatest curse 
 which man brings upon himself. The loss of rea- 
 son we know is great, but what is it in compari- 
 son with loss of conscience, loss of virtue, loss 
 of moral order ? Nothing, and almost less than 
 nothing. When you visit the Insane Retreat, 
 and behold the wild ravings, and listen to the 
 strange mutterings of the unfortunate inmates, you 
 witness a most horrid spectacle, it is true ; you 
 see intellect in ruins ; but if you looked through 
 pure eyes, you might see in your streets and the 
 dwellings around you, worse ruins than these 
 the ruins, not of reason merely, but of the moral 
 nature ; you might see men in fetters and chains 
 more galling than those which are made of iron 
 the chains and fetters of deranged appetites and 
 passions, and you might realize that they were in 
 more gloomy retreats than those in -which the ma- 
 niacs are confined the retreats of shame and 
 guilt, ah ! and they are retreats which their own 
 hands, their own crimes, have built. Those who 
 are under the influence of intellectual mania are 
 generally blind to their miseries ; they are fre- 
 quently joyful and happy in their lunacy; but 
 those who are under the influence of moral ma- 
 15*
 
 170 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 ma are not often so highly favored ; if they are 
 blind to the deceitfulness of sin, they are not to 
 its miseries ; memory and conscience are at work 
 within, and they haunt and torment him, not with 
 the mere spectres, but the realities, of their guilt. 
 Such is the nature of sin. It is moral insanity 
 moral derangement. Man is made upright, in the 
 image of God. He has a moral nature, and it 
 should hold the ascendency over his animal im- 
 pulses and earthly interests, and regulate all his 
 conduct by the great principles of justice and 
 benevolence toward man, and of reverence toward 
 God. While he does this, he has moral soundness 
 of mind ; every faculty is in a healthy and har- 
 monious action ; virtue is loved and sought as the 
 true good, vice looked upon with loathing and 
 horror, and he is in his right mind on all subjects 
 relating to duty and the true welfare of his being. 
 But when this divine order is broken, and the 
 animal nature gets the ascendency over the moral, 
 his moral powers are in a state of derangement ; 
 he is insane in regard to his duty and the means 
 of happiness ; he prefers the path of vice to that 
 of virtue ; he leaves the lovely mansion of right- 
 eousness, and treads the barren wastes of sin in 
 pursuit of enjoyment ; and he spends his powers 
 in animal pleasures and sensual degradation. Such
 
 STN A MORAL INSANITY. 171 
 
 is sin. It is moral derangement. Will you mark 
 this? Sin is derangement in the moral nature. 
 It is not, then, inherent and natural, as our divines 
 have told us ; it is not the legitimate fruit of our 
 nature ; it is the abuse, corruption, derangement 
 of our nature. " To sin is to resist our sense of 
 right, to oppose known obligations, to cherish 
 feelings, or commit deeds, which we know to be 
 wrong. It is to withhold from God the rever- 
 ence, gratitude, and obedience which our own 
 consciences pronounce to be due to that great 
 and good Being. It is to transgress those laws of 
 equity, justice, candor, humanity, benevolence, 
 which we all feel to belong and to answer to our 
 various social relations. It is to yield ourselves to 
 those appetites which we know to be the inferior 
 principles of our nature, to give the body a mastery 
 over the mind, to sacrifice the intellect and heart 
 to the senses, to surrender ourselves to ease and 
 indulgence, or to prefer outward accumulation and 
 power to strength and peace of conscience, to 
 progress toward perfection. Such is sin. It is 
 voluntary wrong-doing," with the idea that it will 
 lead to happiness. 
 
 How clearly is all this set forth in the case of 
 the Prodigal Son! That young man had a joyful 
 home and a kind father, and every means of en-
 
 172 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 joyment were at his command. It would seem 
 that he had nothing to do, in order to be happy, 
 but to be contented, to stay at home, and to obey 
 the parental requirements, which were not griev- 
 ous, which were indeed made for his own good. 
 But a strange hallucination came over him. He 
 became discontented, and resolved to leave his 
 home. He thought himself wiser than his father. 
 He preferred the gratification of his appetites and 
 passions to moral obedience, and he went forth to 
 waste his substance with harlots and riotous living. 
 II. From the nature, let us turn to the causes 
 of the dreadful malady we are considering. Sin 
 is a moral derangement, which disturbs the action 
 of the noblest faculties, and leads its unfortunate 
 victim to believe that the way of transgression is 
 the path of happiness. What is the cause or 
 causes of this sad derangement? Much has been 
 said in the theological world about the origin of 
 sin, and many are the theories which have been 
 framed to account for it. The most common one 
 supposes that all sin had its origin in heaven that 
 one of the angels of God in that high and holy 
 place became overcharged with pride, and was 
 cast out as a sinner, and that he has since wan- 
 dered up and down in the universe, seeking whom 
 he might lead to ruin ; and it is contended that
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 173 
 
 mankind sin, in consequence of being tempted by 
 this devil. But we do not see the necessity of 
 looking so high to find the origin of sin. If sin 
 had its source in heaven, we cannot see why our 
 earth should receive so much condemnation. And 
 if man sins because of the influence of a personal 
 devil, why fasten the guilt upon him ? If he sins 
 by being tempted of a devil, the devil would be a 
 convenient scape-goat on which to bear away his 
 guilt. There is a more rational way. I believe 
 that the time has been when intellectual insanity was 
 generally thought to be the work of some foreign evil 
 being ; they looked upon the raving maniac, and 
 being ignorant of the laws and operations of the 
 mind, they could not account for it, except on the 
 supposition that some malignant, personal agent 
 had done it ; and I presume that there are thou- 
 sands in the world who entertain the same opinion: 
 But men of intelligence and science find no diffi- 
 culty now in accounting for this awful disease, 
 without referring it to the influence of such an 
 agent : they see that it is no more nor less than 
 the derangement of one or more of the intellectual 
 faculties, and they understand that it is caused by 
 some disappointment or unnatural excitement. So 
 with moral insanity. Many honest people have 
 long supposed that it is the work of a personal
 
 174 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 evil being, called the devil, and many still hold the 
 same opinion ; but it would seem that a little 
 knowledge would be sufficient to convince any 
 man that sin is nothing more than a derangement 
 in the moral faculties, and that it is caused by 
 deception, or by corrupting influences acting on 
 the mind and heart. 
 
 How is this matter set forth in the Bible ? 
 Listen, and ye shall understand : "Every man is 
 tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, 
 and enticed." Here animal appetite and decep- 
 tion are held up as the causes of sin, not a personal 
 devil. And so the matter is represented through- 
 out the Scriptures. A serpent, we know, is men- 
 tioned as the agent of transgression in the rosy 
 bowers of Eden, and some have said that this 
 serpent was a personal devil ; but what more ap- 
 propriate figure could have been used to repre- 
 sent the animal part of man's nature ? It is most 
 truly styled " the most subtle beast of the field," 
 and when left to itself, it is groveling in its pur- 
 suits ; it crawls upon the earth, and it eats dust 
 all the days of its life. It is true, also, that Jesus 
 Christ is said to have been tempted of the devil, 
 and we admit that he was, when the term devil is 
 used in its Scriptural import, as signifying an ad- 
 versary, wrong spirit, or wayward propensity ; and
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 175 
 
 in this sense the Apostle plainly understood the 
 temptation of Christ, when he said of him, " He 
 was tempted in all points like as we are, yet with- 
 out sin." He had all the appetites and propensi- 
 ties common to our nature, and they tempted him 
 to tread the ways of sin, but he had too much 
 knowledge to be deceived, and he escaped. 
 
 What, then, are the causes of sin ? The an- 
 swer is a plain one. They are unlawful appetite 
 and mental deception. " Every man is tempted, 
 when he is drawn away of his own lust, and en- 
 ticed ; and when lust hath conceived, it bringeth 
 forth sin." Man does not sin because he has an 
 inherent love of it in his nature. No, surely not. 
 The love of virtue is strong within him ; he has a 
 deep thirst for purity and perfection ; but while 
 he would do good, evil is present with him. 
 While he has moral faculties which have an up- 
 ward, elevating tendency, he has animal appetites 
 which have a downward, degrading tendency ; 
 they clamor for present and sensual gratifications ; 
 and they would persuade him that these are more 
 conducive to his happiness than devotion to moral 
 principles ; and when they succeed in this, he is 
 under the influence of moral insanity ; he loses a 
 just sense of the evil of sin ; dead to virtue, he 
 looks upon it as the way to happiness, and he is
 
 176 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 ready to commit all iniquity with greediness. So 
 it was with mother Eve. " The woman, being de- 
 ceived, was in the transgression." And so with 
 the Prodigal Son. When he made up his mind 
 to quit home, and said, " Father, give me the por- 
 tion of goods that falleth to me," and when he 
 " gathered all together," and bade farewell to the 
 household, " and took his journey into a far coun- 
 try," ah ! poor deceived boy, he little knew what 
 he was about : he thought he was wiser than his 
 father, and he supposed that he was entering on a 
 glorious and happy career. He shed no bitter 
 tears to leave behind him his father and the family ; 
 he went forth with a proud step and a joyous 
 heart, and when the parental mansion faded from 
 his view in the dim distance, he hardly cast " one 
 lingering look behind ; he heaved not a sigh, and 
 shed not a tear, but pressed on with a bold and 
 hurried step, in the conviction that he should find 
 a better home and a greater good than he had left 
 behind him. 
 
 And here you may mark the symptoms, as well 
 as the causes, of the malady under consideration. 
 Does a man lack confidence in virtue to make him 
 happy ? Does he talk of the pleasures of sin, and 
 of the hardships and perils of righteousness ? 
 Does he think more of dollars and cents than he
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 177 
 
 does of the demands of duty and truth ? And 
 does he say that he would drink iniquity like wa- 
 ter, and deal largely in transgression, if he did not 
 fear the flames of a future and foreign hell? 
 These are the certain symptoms of his moral in- 
 sanity ; they are sure proofs that his moral sense 
 is deranged, and that he contemplates leaving the 
 mansion of virtue, and going into a far country. 
 
 III. What are the real consequences of moral 
 insanity ? What are the effects of sin? 
 
 There seem to be some who consider sin as a 
 very little thing, and who imagine that there are 
 no direct and natural consequences flowing from 
 it, which make it an object of so much concern. 
 But is not insanity a great evil ? When a friend 
 of yours is seized with derangement of intellect, 
 and you witness the strange workings of his luna- 
 cy, do you not feel that you could have borne it 
 with greater patience, if it had been any bodily 
 disease if the mind had been spared ? And if 
 you were in your right mind, if you had a true 
 sense of the evil which sin does to human nature 
 and human society, you would feel still worse to 
 know that that friend, though sound in intellect, 
 was morally insane, that though his reason was 
 clear and strong, his moral affections were de- 
 praved and corrupted. 
 16
 
 178 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 Look into the Garden of Eden. The first trans- 
 gressors were so deceived as to suppose that the 
 forbidden fruit would promote their spiritual 
 health, but no sooner did they eat it than they 
 found it poison and wormwood to all the fountains 
 of their enjoyment. What shame, regret, and re- 
 morse did they experience ! There is both nature 
 and Scripture in Milton's description of their moral 
 condition. 
 
 " Not at rest, or ease of mind, 
 
 They sat them down to weep ; nor only tears 
 Rain'd at their eyes, but high winds rose within ; 
 Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate, 
 Mistrust, suspicion, discord, and shook sore 
 Their inward stato of mind, calm region once, 
 And full of peace, wre toss'd and turbulent ; 
 For understanding rul'd not, and the will 
 Heard not her lore, both in subjection now 
 To sensual appetite, who from beneath, 
 Usurping over sov'roign reason, claim'd 
 Superior sway." 
 
 And how vividly are the same sad effects of sin 
 pictured in the parable of the Prodigal ! Although 
 he commenced his journey with the idea that it 
 would be a land of plenty, of sunshine and roses, 
 when he got fairly into it, he learned his mistake. 
 The patrimony of his father was soon spent ; a 
 mighty famine came over the land, "and he began 
 to be in want. And he went and joined himself
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 179 
 
 to a citizen of that country," as the only means of 
 supporting life ; " and he sent him into his field to 
 feed swine. And he would fain have filled his 
 belly with the husks which the swine did eat, and 
 no man gave unto him." 0, how degrading is 
 the service of sin ! It is compared to the lowest 
 business which the world knows the feeding of 
 swine. And how full of want and suffering! 
 " He would have fain eat the husks which the swine 
 did eat, and no man gave unto him." Naked, 
 hungry, friendless, and forlorn, what could he do ? 
 Ah ! there was one thing that he could now do, 
 and he did it. He began to think of his folly. He 
 called to mind the joyful home he had forsaken, 
 and contrasted its splendid apartments and rich 
 viands with the degradation, and want, and filth 
 which now surrounded him. And he understood 
 the matter. He could no longer be deceived. 
 He came to himself. He saw that obedience was 
 the only way in which to be happy, and he felt 
 that the way of the transgressor is hard. And in 
 what plaintive eloquence did he pour forth his soul 
 upon the field of his degrading toil ! "And when 
 he came to himself, he said, How many hired 
 servants of my father have bread enough and to 
 spare, and I perish with hunger? I will arise and 
 go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I
 
 180 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and 
 am no more worthy to be called thy son ; make 
 me as one of thy hired servants. And he arose, 
 and came to his father." 
 
 Such are the effects of sin. This disease of the 
 soul deranges its divine powers, binds its victims 
 in the most woful slavery the slavery of the dis- 
 ordered passions, and although it teaches them 
 their folly, so much as to induce them to renounce 
 sin, it fastens upon them the conviction that their 
 sinfulness destroys their sonship, and that they 
 can receive no favors in future from the hand of 
 God, except such as they earn by their own ex- 
 ertions. This leads us to consider, 
 
 IV. The treatment and cure of the disease 
 we have been considering. 
 
 Moral insanity, we very well know, is a most 
 dreadful disease, and the wisdom of philosophers, 
 and even of doctors of divinity, has been baffled 
 in their attempts to remove it from the vitals of 
 suffering humanity. But there is an arm higher 
 than that of man's. He who made man, and who 
 knew that moral mechanism would become de- 
 ranged by exposure to temptation, has provided 
 a remedy for this worst of all maladies, in the 
 Gospel of his Son, and whoever will acquaint 
 himself with the remedy, and use it according to
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY.' 181 
 
 the Divine prescriptions, may be healed, and restor- 
 ed to moral health and life. Jesus Christ is styled 
 the Physician, and he still has power to speak to 
 the moral lunatic, cast out the evil demon, and 
 clothe him in his right mind. 
 
 But there has been much ignorance and scepti- 
 cism in regard to this matter. Sin, it is said, is an 
 infinite crime ; it is rebellion against God ; and 
 how can he look down upon its subjects with the 
 smiles of his favor, treat them in the spirit of kind- 
 ness, and give them means of relief ? God hates 
 sinners, and unless they do something to gain his 
 favor, he will shut them up in the mad-house of 
 hell, and compel them to be moral maniacs, and 
 howl out their miseries through unwasting ages ! 
 This has been the common doctrine. We think it 
 has arisen from ignorance of the disease and of the 
 remedy. The disease is a moral insanity, and the 
 remedy is the love of God. The insane man is 
 more an object of compassion than of indignation, 
 and mild and merciful treatment will have a bet- 
 ter influence on him than harshness and severity. 
 The moral lunatic is deceived ; he thinks that sin 
 is better than righteousness, and he looks upon 
 his best friend as his worst enemy, and if he is 
 not dealt kindly with and in the spirit of love, he 
 will be driven into worse and worse stages of de- 
 16*
 
 182 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 rangement. The time was when intellectual in- 
 sanity was thought to be incurable. The most 
 that was done to its unfortunate victims was, to 
 confine them in mad-houses, fasten them in fetters 
 and stocks, and keep them from doing injury. And 
 this is about the extent of God's wisdom and pow- 
 er in the treatment of the morally insane, accord- 
 ing to a popular doctrine ! Because of their aber- 
 rations, he will confine them in an eternal mad- 
 house, pronounce their cure impossible, and make 
 it their everlasting business to bite their fetters 
 and gnaw their chains. Man, however, has finally 
 gone beyond this. It has been found out that in- 
 tellectual insanity is not altogether a hopeless dis- 
 ease ; for though the skill of man has not yet suc- 
 ceeded in efforts to cure it in all cases, it has done 
 much to remove the awfulness of the malady, and 
 restore its subjects. And how has this progress 
 been made ? By the progress of knowledge and 
 the influence of love. Thanks to the benevolence 
 and energy of Final and his successors, who went 
 into the mad-houses, where the insane were con- 
 fined in darkness and in chains, talked with them 
 in the tones of tenderness and love, and in many 
 cases restored them to soundness of mind, and led 
 them forth into the light of day and the sunshine 
 of reason. From this spirit has sprung our Insane
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 183 
 
 Retreats, where these unfortunate beings can have 
 a comfortable home, and where many of them, at 
 least, can be restored by the kind and affectionate 
 treatment which is now applied for their relief. 
 And will not mankind soon believe that the skill 
 and treatment of the Divine Physician are fully 
 equal to this, that he has power, and that he 
 will use it to tame the wild workings of the human 
 passions, and to restore the morally insane to their 
 right mind ? We cannot question it. " His arm 
 is not shortened, that it cannot save." 
 
 Look once more into the history of the Prodigal. 
 You will see that there were two means by which 
 he was weaned from sin, and restored to obedi- 
 ence. One was punishment, or the want and the 
 sorrow which were the effects of his folly; the 
 other was the exhibition of his father's compassion 
 and love to him. The first convinced him that sin 
 was the way of misery, and induced him to retrace 
 his steps ; the second convinced him that his trans- 
 gression had not extinguished the love of his fa- 
 ther, and restored him to confidence and obedience. 
 Mark the poor creature. Convinced of the evil of 
 sin, he sets out on a return to his home. He 
 thinks of the bounty and happiness which he had 
 left there, but he awfully fears that his disobedi- 
 ence has had a sad influence on his father, and
 
 184 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 
 
 that he will not meet him and own him as a son. 
 He drags himself toward the parental mansion, ex- 
 pecting that his father will meet him with frowns, 
 and the most which he dare promise himself is, 
 that he will be received as a servant, and be put 
 to work for his daily wages. But as he comes in 
 sight of the house with a feeble step and a trem- 
 bling heart, does his father meet him with a ter- 
 rible rod and a withering frown ? No, no. If he 
 had, the sun would have turned from him at once. 
 " But when he was yet a great way off, his father 
 saw him, and had compassion on him, and ran and 
 fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son 
 said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heav- 
 en, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to 
 be called thy son. But the father said to his ser- 
 vants, Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, 
 and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet ; 
 and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it ; and 
 let us eat and be merry ; for this my son was dead, 
 and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found. And 
 they began to be merry." Soon, however, the 
 joys of the occasion were marred by a paroxyism 
 of madness in the elder brother, who, under the 
 mistaken notion that virtue is hard work and poor 
 pay, complained that this wandering brother was 
 received into equal favor with himself, who had
 
 SIN A MORAL INSANITY. 185 
 
 stayed at home all the time, and labored hard in 
 the field. But the father argued the case with 
 him, saying, " Son, thou art ever with me, and 
 all that I have is thine. It was meet that we 
 should make merry, and be glad; for this thy 
 brother was dead, and is alive again ; and was lost 
 and is found." 
 
 Thus it is that God treats his disobedient chil- 
 dren. He attaches such consequences to sin, that 
 they soon learn that there is no happiness but in 
 the way of obedience ; and when they return to 
 Him, burdened, oppressed with their guilty fears, 
 he meets them in the smiles of his ever-reconciled, 
 benignant countenance, woos them to his man- 
 sions by the influence of his love, clothes them 
 in their right mind ; and if any complain at 
 the mercy of his dealings, he pleads with them, 
 vindicates his ways, and persuades them to be rec - 
 onciled to the equality of his government. 
 
 Hearer, bind this lesson to thy heart. God 
 hath given thee a moral nature, and it is " vanity 
 and vexation of spirit," it is moral insanity, to 
 expect to find happiness in anything but virtue. 
 " He that is wise, shall be wise for himself."
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 
 
 " We have not a High-priest which cannot be touched -with 
 the feeling of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted 
 like as we are, yet without sin." Hebrews iv., 15. 
 
 THAT man has not traveled far on the journey 
 of human life, or he has been a very careless ob- 
 server, who has not discovered that the road which 
 mortals tread is beset with difficulties, dangers, 
 trials. As a general thing, there is doubtless more of 
 good than evil, more of pleasure than pain, in it ; 
 and the light and joyous heart of youth is extremely 
 apt to look upon it as a continuous scene of delight 
 and joy ; but it is the solemn testimony of expe- 
 rience, that " each pleasure hath its poison, too, 
 and every sweet its snare." Inquire of those who 
 best know the aged, whose locks have been 
 bleached by the dews of threescore years and ten, 
 and they will tell you that the journey of life, 
 from the cradle even to the grave, is literally filled 
 with dangers and obstacles, and that the traveler 
 needs all the wisdom he can get, and all the helps 
 at his command, in order to shun the perils to 
 which he is exposed, and secure to himself safety
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 187 
 
 and happiness. At every step of his progress, he 
 is met with the allurements of vice, and if he 
 yields to their pleasant and enticing voices, he is 
 led into dark wilds and dreary deserts ; and at in- 
 tervals, not distant from each other, he is visited 
 with the storms of adversity ; his fellow-pilgrims 
 fall and die around him, leaving him almost alone 
 to bear the burdens of life ; and if he gives him- 
 self up to the influence of despair, and his mind 
 is not blessed with light and hope, he is, of all 
 creatures, most miserable. 
 
 And while there are difficulties and dangers all 
 along in the journey of human life ; while it is 
 filled with the temptations of vice, and it is swept 
 by the storms of adversity, how weak, how feeble 
 is our nature ! Strong as we may sometimes feel, 
 able as we may think we are, we are poor, frail, 
 feeble creatures. We are children. We can 
 hardly go. We stumble almost at every step. 
 Yet we talk of our strength. We say we are in- 
 tellectual and moral beings; we affirm that we 
 have the powers of reason, and that conscience 
 and our moral resolutions are sufficient to guide 
 us. In this we tell some truth, doubtless, but not 
 the whole of it. Reason is surely given us, and 
 conscience is a noble power within us ; but this 
 reason is not .always very well enlightened, and
 
 188 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 this conscience is not the only power that is lodged 
 in our nature. We are formed with "passions 
 wild and strong," with animal appetites and carnal 
 propensities, and they are so clamorous for imme- 
 diate gratification, that they often blind the rea- 
 son and stupefy the conscience, and urge us into 
 ruinous paths. Thanks to God for our nature, we 
 were made for virtue ; we would do good ; all our 
 higher powers love moral excellence, and we seek 
 it as our " being's end and aim." But ah ! we 
 are weak. We can think right ; we can resolve 
 nobly ; but while we would do good, evil is with 
 us. How to perform, we find harder than to will. 
 The infirmities of our nature are too much for us. 
 Though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak ; and 
 we are easily overcome by the dangers and diffi- 
 culties that lie on our road, and sunk under the 
 burdens which Providence has laid upon our 
 shoulders. 
 
 What, then, is the highest want of our nature ? 
 What is it that we need more than everything else, 
 in order that we may be able to meet the evils to 
 which we are exposed, and gain the victory over 
 them ? You must all see. It is SYMPATHY. " It 
 is not good for man to be alone." He is too weak 
 to be successful in his struggle with the world, 
 without help. He needs the sympathy and en-
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 189 
 
 couragement of a kindred being a being who 
 knows his weaknesses and wants one who can be 
 touched with the feeling of his infirmities, and 
 breathe encouragement and strength into his 
 thoughts and resolutions ; yea, he needs a com- 
 panion on the journey of life, who will not only 
 have a nature like his own, and sympathize with 
 him in all his trials and conflicts, but one who un- 
 derstands all the windings and obstacles in the 
 road on which he has entered, who has borne the 
 burden and heat of the day, and who has gotten 
 the victory over all the evils to which poor, weak 
 humanity is subject. And when he finds himself 
 in the company of such a being, he can look upon 
 the journey before him, dark and rugged though 
 it be, and smile ; he knows that the eye of One 
 is upon him who cares for him, and into whose ear 
 his wants will not be whispered in vain ; the 
 weakness of his nature will be fortified, and he 
 will be prepared for triumph over the evils of life. 
 Now such a companion is given to the faith of 
 man in the Gospel of our salvation. It is the 
 man Christ Jesus. It was the highest purpose of 
 His mission to give man what he most needed a 
 perfect example, to show man, in a way which he 
 could understand, what he was made for, and how 
 he should act, and by what means he can over- 
 17
 
 190 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 come the world. He came forth from the mys- 
 terious depths of infinity, to reveal the great pur- 
 pose and end of Humanity ; and to do this, it was 
 necessary that He should be clothed with the at- 
 tributes of humanity, and to be a partaker of all 
 the infirmities, as well as all the sublimities, of our 
 nature. And it was so. While He was the Son 
 of God, He was the Son of man. While He had 
 His commission from Heaven, He had a nature of 
 the earth. He was perfect human nature, inspired 
 of God inspired to tell man what his nature is, 
 and what his conduct should be. And as He wore 
 human nature, and felt all its infirmities, man can 
 turn to Him, and find sympathy and encourage- 
 ment in all his trials and sufferings. 
 
 But I will not keep you longer from the lan- 
 guage of an Apostle : " We have not a High- 
 Priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of 
 our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted like 
 as we are, yet without sin." You cannot fail to 
 notice that the Apostle places the value of the 
 example of Christ in the idea, that His nature was 
 human, and that He hence felt all the infirmities 
 and temptations common to man. His meaning is 
 doubtless brought out more distinctly in the trans- 
 lation of Macknight : " We have not a High- 
 Priest who cannot sympathize with our weakness, 
 
 ~; : ^P
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 191 
 
 but ONE WHO was tempted in all points according 
 to the likeness OF His NATURE TO OURS, without 
 sin." Mark. " He was tempted in all points AC- 
 CORDING to the likeness o/"His NATURE TO OURS." 
 This makes it very strong that He had a purely 
 human nature, but it is not stronger than it is 
 made by the Apostle in another place : " He 
 took not on Him the nature of angels ; but He 
 took on Him the seed of Abraham. Wherefore, 
 it behooved Him to be made like unto His brethren, 
 that He might be a merciful and faithful High- 
 Priest in things pertaining to God, to make recon- 
 ciliation for the sins of the people. For in that 
 He himself hath suffered being tempted, He is 
 able to succor them that are tempted." 
 
 The Church has taught quite another doctrine. 
 There is an old creed which still says, " Christ is 
 very and eternal God." It is very widely affirmed 
 that the Son of God is the Father, that Jesus 
 Christ is the infinite Jehovah ! We will not now 
 quote the divine testimony against this notion ; we 
 will not here call in question the truth of this doc- 
 trine ; but we will say that this view of Christ 
 deprives his example of its beauty and fitness as a 
 guide for man. The example of a God would no 
 doubt be a good one ; it might give a presenta- 
 tion of infinite perfection ; but it would be above
 
 192 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 us ; it would not be adapted to the weakness of 
 our nature, and we could derive no essential aid 
 from it. We should say, " God is in heaven, we 
 are on earth : he never knew the weakness of our 
 nature, and he cannot be touched with the feeling 
 of our infirmities ; it cannot be that He ever felt 
 the temptations which take hold of our feeble na- 
 ture, and his example, bright and glorious though 
 it be, does not meet our wants. We want the ex- 
 ample of one who bore our common nature, who 
 felt the workings of our sinful impulses and 
 passions, but who restrained them, who experi- 
 enced all the sorrows which we are born to, but 
 who overcame them ; and such an example we 
 must have, or the greatest call of our nature can 
 have no answer." Can we have it ? Not in 
 Christ, according to Trinitarianism, for it says that 
 he was really the eternal God. But, to help the 
 matter, it is said that he had two natures, one 
 divine, one human. The old creed used to read, 
 and I think it still reads, " Jesus Christ was 
 perfect God and perfect man." We will not stop 
 here to prove that this is not true, (though it is a 
 little strange that we find nothing in the New 
 Testament about his having two natures, on the 
 supposition that it is ti*ue,) but you must all see 
 that this view of Christ takes away the value
 
 THE EXAMPLE OP CHRIST. 193 
 
 and efficiency of his example. If he had two dis- 
 tinct natures, one making him a "perfect God," 
 and the other a " perfect man," a part of his 
 character would answer my wants, it is true, the 
 human, but the other part the divine the God 
 would be above the reach of my infirmities, and 
 it would have the influence to destroy the power 
 of the other portion of his character over me. I 
 should say within myself, " If he had two natures, 
 while I have but one, how can I be required to 
 imitate him ? True, he showed that he felt my 
 infirmities in his human nature, and he has given 
 me a perfect example, but how do I know but 
 what his human nature was governed by the di- 
 vine ; and if it was, his case was not like mine ; 
 he was a God, while I am a man, and his exam- 
 ple is not suited to my wants and condition. I 
 want one for an example who had just such a 
 nature as my own, who was just such a being as 
 myself in thought and feeling, in everything, ex- 
 cept in extent of knowledge ; and when I see such 
 a being resisting the power of sin, and treading 
 the sorrows of the woild under his feet, I can un- 
 derstand him, and I can draw from his example 
 a moral power which will make me strong in my 
 conflict with the evils that beset my pathway." 
 And such a being I find in the New Testament. 
 17*
 
 194 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIS 
 
 He was " the man Christ Jesus," not the God 
 Christ Jesus ! He was " a man APPROVED OF GOD 
 by miracles, and wonders, and signs, which GOD 
 DID BY HIM," not a God approved of men for 
 the miracles and wonders which he did by him- 
 self! True, he had divine endowments, but his 
 nature was human. He had miraculous power, 
 and miraculous knowledge ; but they were not 
 original with him; he received them from the 
 Father ; and his own powers and feelings were 
 like our own, made after the pattern of humanity, 
 as fashioned in the first man. And as such, he 
 stands forth in all his history. He was like unto 
 his brethren the human race. He grew up 
 among them like a man ; he walked with them 
 like a man, yea, he felt temptation, fatigue, anx- 
 iety, sorrow, and adversity, like a man. He had 
 within him the nature of a man ; he had appetites 
 and propensities, as well as reason and conscience ; 
 and, in consequence, he was tempted in all points 
 like as we are ; pleasure presented to him its al- 
 lurements, wealth its coffers, and power its glory ; 
 yet, through obedience to his moral nature, 
 through devotion to God, truth and duty, through 
 watchfulness and control over his appetites and 
 passions, he came off " without sin ;" he got the 
 victory over the evils incident to humanity, and
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 195 
 
 thus showed man how he can meet the dangers 
 and trials in his path, and overcome the world. 
 
 In this view of the character of Christ lies the 
 power of his example. " If I regard Jesus as an 
 august stranger, belonging to an entirely different 
 class of existence from myself, having no common 
 thoughts or feelings with me, and looking down 
 upon me with only such a sympathy as I have 
 with an inferior animal, I should regard him with 
 a vague awe ; but the immeasurable space be- 
 tween us would place him beyond friendship and 
 affection. But when I feel that I have the same 
 nature with him, and that he came to communi- 
 cate to me, by his teaching, example, and inter- 
 cession, his own mind, to bring me into communion 
 with what was sublimest, purest, happiest in him- 
 self, then I can love him as I love no other being, 
 excepting only Him who is the Father alike of 
 Christ and of the Christian. With these views, I 
 feel that, though ascended to Heaven, he has not 
 gone beyond the reach of our hearts ; that he has 
 now the same interest in mankind as when he en- 
 tered their dwellings, sat at their tables, washed 
 their feet ; and that there is no being so approach- 
 able, none with whom such unreserved intercourse 
 is to be enjoyed in the future world." 
 
 But what are the evils and difficulties to which
 
 196 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 we are exposed, and how can we derive strength 
 from Christ sufficient to overcome them ? 
 
 1. We are exposed to sin. We would do 
 good, but evil is present with us. We delight in 
 the law of God after the inward man, but we find 
 another law in our members, warring against the 
 law of our higher nature, and bringing us into 
 captivity to the law of sin. We have a deep and 
 strong love of virtue within us ; we know and feel 
 that it is the chief good and glory of our being ; 
 but how numerous and how powerful are the 
 temptations which are presented to us to lead us 
 astray ! What allurements, baits, enticements, 
 are placed all along the path which we tread ! 
 
 " Here danger like a giant stands, 
 Mustering his pale, terrific bands ; 
 There pleasure's silken banners spread, 
 And willing souls are captive led. 
 
 " See where rebellious passions rage, 
 And fierce desires and lusts engage ; 
 The meanest foe of all the train 
 Has thousands and ten thousands slain." 
 
 Sin meets us with its enticements on every 
 hand. Appetite calls for the rich dish and the 
 sparkling cup ; the dainties and luxuries of differ- 
 ent cjimes are placed before us, and we are tempt- 
 ed to make eating and drinking the chief business 
 of life, to prefer the pleasures of the taste to the
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 197 
 
 serener delights of the mind, and to allow reason 
 and conscience to be stifled and quenched in the 
 indulgences of a gross animalism. The love of 
 wealth calls for large possessions, and we are 
 tempted to barter the durable riches of truth and 
 righteousness for the dust which glitters awhile, 
 and then takes to itself wings and flies away. The 
 love of popularity, of power, and earthly domin- 
 ion has a deep hold in our nature, and we are 
 tempted to sacrifice principle to policy, to love 
 the praise of men more than the praise of God, 
 and to act the part of Milton's Satanic Majesty, 
 and say, 
 
 "Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven." 
 
 How can we conquer ? By what means can 
 we gain sufficient strength to get the victory over 
 all these temptations ? The Gospel points us to 
 the Captain of our salvation. He has traveled 
 this road ; he has known these inducements to sin ; 
 he " was tempted in all points like as we are ;" and 
 yet he triumphed ; he resisted the impulses of ap- 
 petite, conquered the ragings of passion, checked 
 and subdued the love of worldly fame and glory ; 
 he brought his whole nature into conformity to 
 the will and requirements of God, and thus gave 
 mankind an example, that they should follow his
 
 198 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 steps. O, what a lesson did he give our world in 
 the wilderness of temptation ! What a conflict he 
 had there with the pleasures and honors of a cor- 
 rupt generation, and how nobly did he triumph ! 
 He was first tempted to yield to the gratifications 
 of his animal appetites, rather than listen to the 
 voice of moral virtue ; he was next tempted to 
 throw himself at the feet of the Jewish aristocracy, 
 and serve his country, in preference to obeying 
 the will of his Father ; and he was next tempted 
 to use his powers to gain "the kingdoms of 
 the world and the glory of them," instead of using 
 them for the purpose for which he had received 
 them, to establish truth and righteousness in the 
 earth. And these are the temptations that take 
 hold of our nature. We are prone to let the ani- 
 mal govern the moral, to love policy more than 
 principle, to place pleasure before duty, to bow to 
 the throne of worldly power rather than to the 
 throne of God, and to think more of outward glory 
 and earthly empire, than of inward empire and 
 moral glory. Here are the springs of all the 
 error and crime which disturb and darken our 
 world ; and if, when we feel their workings within 
 us, we would fix our eye on him who was " touch- 
 ed with the feeling of our infirmities," if we 
 would mark his struggles against the enemy, and
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 199 
 
 catch his spirit, we should gain from him the pow- 
 er of victory over the adversary within us, ami be 
 able to say to him, " Get thee hence, Satan, for it 
 is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, 
 and him only shalt thou serve." 
 
 2. We may derive aid from Christ in seasons 
 of suffering and adversity. 
 
 You all know, my friends, that this is a world 
 not only of temptation and sin, but of sorrow and 
 affliction ; or, if any of you are too young or too 
 thoughtless now to know it, you will not need to 
 live long to learn this lesson. There are but few 
 countenances on which this solemn truth is not 
 written. " Although affliction cometh not forth of 
 the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the 
 ground ; yet man is born unto trouble, as the 
 sparks fly upward." While there is no such thing 
 as chance in the affairs of the world, in the govern- 
 ment of creation, we are born to experience the 
 pains of sickness, the bitterness of disappointment, 
 the darkness and gloom of adversity, and the pangs 
 of death. It has pleased God to make these a 
 part of our inheritance under the sun, and in vain 
 shall we strive to flee from their approach. Go 
 where we will, live how we may, the unwelcome 
 messenger of suffering, sorrow, adversity, will 
 sooner or later find us, and he will tell us, in Ian-
 
 200 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 guage which we can understand, that " man was 
 made to mourn." Clouds and darkness will gath- 
 er around us ; sickness and death will enter our 
 dwellings, and tear from our fond embrace the 
 lovely and the good ; our frames will become bent 
 and broken by the winds and storms of time, and 
 the dark, cold grave will open its mouth to re- 
 ceive us. Then we shall need sympathy, encour- 
 agement, and hope. Then shall we feel that this 
 world is all an empty show, a vain, fleeting, fading 
 thing, and over the whole creation, which had 
 once looked so bright and beautiful to us, will be 
 drawn the crape of sorrow. The ardent hopes of 
 youth and the gay scenes of prosperity will then 
 have faded ; the companions of our early days 
 will be missing ; heaviness and grief will weigh 
 down our hearts; and we shall look about us, 
 and inquire if there are any who can feel for us, 
 and from whom we can receive sympathy, and 
 derive aid. And there may then be those around 
 us who will have experienced the evils that " flesh 
 is heir to," to whom we can relate our sorrows, 
 and from whose sympathizing hearts we can draw 
 strength and comfort. And how sweet and 
 soothing will be the influence which we shall thus 
 derive ! " Heaviness in the heart of man maketh 
 it stoop, but a good word maketh it glad." Who
 
 r* **.$ 
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 201 
 
 has not felt, in the dark hour of suffering and af- 
 fliction, how precious it is to have the experience 
 and sympathy of a confiding friend, and how in- 
 spiring and cheering it is to breathe our wants 
 into his ear ? The heart acquires new power, new 
 life, and we can suffer with less complaint, with 
 more patience. And, dear and precious as is the 
 sympathy of the pilgrims of our way, there has 
 One gone before us from whom we can derive 
 more aid, more power, more resignation, than 
 from all other beings in the world. " We have 
 not a High-Priest which cannot be touched with 
 the feeling of our infirmities." He was a man of 
 sorrows, and acquainted with grief. He knew 
 what it was to suffer the winds and storms of ad- 
 versity, and to weep over the grave of friends. 
 With pain and trial, he was not only familiar, from 
 his own personal acquaintance, but he had a soul 
 to feel for the grief and bereavement of all the 
 afflicted and suffering around him. And how did 
 he bear his griefs and sorrows ? Ah ! just as hu- 
 manity should bear all its woes ; just as man 
 should bear all the sufferings that are laid upon 
 him. Not with a stoical indifference, nor a sullen 
 gloom, nor a comfortless despair. While his 
 heart was all alive to the most acute sensations, 
 and his bosom heaved with the most tender emo- 
 18
 
 202 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 tions, he looked upward to his Father, and leaned 
 upon his Almighty arm, perfectly assured that all 
 these trials and sufferings were ordered in mercy, 
 and that they would conduct him to higher good, 
 and greater glory. In the darkest hour of his 
 sorrow, how much of human nature did he breathe 
 forth in the petition, " Father, if it be possible, let 
 this cup pass from me ;" and what a lesson for 
 human nature did he give in the very next sen- 
 tence : " Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be 
 done !" Thus he triumphed. He looked above the 
 world ; He cast all his care upon Him who suffer- 
 eth not a sparrow to fall to the ground without 
 his notice, and believed that his afflictions would 
 conduce to his ultimate welfare. And thus we 
 may triumph. It was the purpose of his suffering 
 life to reveal to man the object of God in sending 
 afflictions upon him, to show him that they come 
 from the hand of a Father-, and that they will end 
 in the greater perfection and happiness of his 
 children, and thus to breathe into man the spirit 
 of encouragement and hope in the darkest scenes ; 
 and if, in seasons of trial and suffering, we would 
 turn to him, mark how he bore our griefs, and 
 carried our sorrows, and imbibe the spirit which 
 he breathed forth from Gethsemane and Calvary, 
 we shall find a remedy for the weakness of our
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 203 
 
 nature, and gain the victory over the trials and 
 suffering of the world. 
 
 3. We may gain aid from the example of 
 Christ in our labors in the cause of human im- 
 provement. What is the nature of the work in 
 which we are engaged ? Is it the cause of impar- 
 tial justice and universal benevolence ? Would we 
 strip religion of the exclusiveness and bigotry of 
 sectarianism, and make it the equal friend and 
 benefactor of all ranks and conditions of men ? 
 Would we see all men regard each other as the 
 children of God, treat each other as equals before 
 him, and look forward to immortality as their 
 equal home ? Is this the cause which we love, 
 and which we would spread in the world ? And 
 is this cause hated and condemned by the wealthy 
 and popular sects around us ? Are we looked 
 upon as the enemies of all religion, denied the 
 name and character of Christians, excluded from 
 the communion of the great mass of professing 
 religionists, and met with proscription and abuse 
 on every hand ? Do we have to fight against 
 principalities and powers, against spiritual wicked- 
 ness in high places ? And is our warfare so se- 
 vere that we sometimes yield to discouragement, 
 and almost faint in the conflict ? Let us turn our 
 eye toward our Master. In this cause of univer-
 
 204 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 sal benevolence, he was engaged with all the ener- 
 gies of his soul, and he was hated and persecuted 
 by all the sectarians of his age. And what pri- 
 vations did he suffer, and what opposition and 
 malignity did he experience, in his devotion to this 
 cause ! Look over his life. See him going about 
 doing good. "The foxes have holes, and the 
 birds of the air have nests, but he hath not where 
 to lay his head." He is despised, scorned, ridi- 
 culed, menaced, and frowned upon, wherever he 
 goes ; and there are none to sympathize with his 
 labors, but a little company of fishermen from the 
 Galilean lake. He sees the whole world in array 
 against him ; and though his disciples are ignorant 
 and timid, yet he faints not, and he cheerfully 
 takes up the cross, and dies upon it, that he may 
 establish the Gospel of peace in the earth. 0, let 
 us think of his labors and conflicts. It is good for 
 us to follow him in his journeys, to watch with him 
 in the garden of Gethsemane, and to linger around 
 his cross oil the hill of Calvary. From these 
 scenes we may draw strength to labor in- the cause 
 of God and man, and be encouraged with the 
 hope of success and victory, if we continue faith- 
 ful to truth and duty. 
 
 Finally, in what scenes, and under what circum- 
 stances, may not the Christian derive encourage-
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 205 
 
 ment and strength from his Master, in his passage 
 through this world of danger and conflict ? While 
 he sees that the journey on which he has entered 
 is filled with difficulty and peril, he is not deserted ; 
 his eye is fixed on a " celestial Leader, who has 
 himself fought and conquered, and holds forth to 
 him his own crown of righteousness and victory," 
 a Leader who had a kindred nature with himself, 
 and who was touched with the feeling of his in- 
 firmities. Is he poor ? So was his Master. Is 
 he neglected by the world ? So was his Master. 
 Is he hated by enemies, and betrayed by those 
 whom he had chosen for his friends ? So was his 
 Master. Is he tempted to sacrifice moral princi- 
 ple to worldly policy, and to prefer the pleasures 
 and honors of this world to the convictions of con- 
 science and the voice of moral virtue ? So was 
 his Master. Is he visited with adversity, and 
 borne down by the weight of grief and sorrow ? 
 So was his Master. And would he triumph ? 
 His Master has shown him how. He had an en- 
 counter with all these evils of humanity, and 
 " when he ascended up on high, he led captivity 
 captive, and gave gifts unto men." In his own 
 trials and conflicts, then, let him keep his eye 
 steadily fixed upon this Conqueror ; let him imi- 
 18*
 
 206 THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST. 
 
 tate his noble deeds, and drink in his lofty spirit 
 of moral daring and celestial virtue ; and he will 
 be able to say with the heroic Paul, " / can do all 
 things through Christ, which strengthened me."
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 " And when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, 
 and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be 
 saved was then taken away." Acts xxvii., 20. 
 
 SOON after Paul's defence of Christianity at 
 Jerusalem, he took passage in a ship for Rome, 
 with a crew of " two hundred, threescore and 
 sixteen souls." The first part of their voyage was 
 prosperous and delightful ; the silvery waters of 
 the Mediterranean were quiet and placid ; the sun 
 lighted their course by day, and the stars by night, 
 and they were encouraged to hope that they 
 should make their " desired haven" without in- 
 jury or loss. But soon a change came over them. 
 "A tempestuous wind, called Euroclydon," began 
 to sigh through their rigging, and roughly to toss 
 them upon the rude surges of the agitated sea, 
 threatening them with shipwreck and the seaman's 
 grave. " And when neither sun nor stars in 
 many days appeared, and no small tempest lay on 
 them, all hope that they should be saved was 
 then taken away." Pale with fear, and ghostly 
 with terror, they looked upon each other's coun-
 
 208 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 tenances with strange and despairing expressions, 
 every moment expecting to sink into the bosom of 
 the raging deep. But in the midst of this dread- 
 ful scene, there was one whose bosom was calm 
 and serene, and who spoke words of peace and 
 comfort to the affrighted crew. It was Paul. In 
 the spirit of the Gospel, and with his characteristic 
 fortitude and benevolence, he " stood forth in the 
 midst of them, and said, Sirs, I exhort you to be 
 of good cheer ; for there shall be no loss of any 
 man's life among you, but of the ship. For there 
 stood by me this night the angel of God, whose 
 I am, and whom I serve, saying, Fear not, Paul ; 
 thou must be brought before Caesar, and, lo, God 
 hath given thee all them that sail with thee. 
 Wherefore, sirs, be of good cheer: for I believe 
 God, that it shall be even as it was told me. 
 Howbeit we must be cast upon a certain island." 
 Onward they were driven by the violence of the 
 waves, but little believing the testimony of Paul, 
 till they came in sight of land, when hope began 
 to revive ; and in their eagerness to escape, some 
 were for throwing themselves out of the ship, and 
 attempt to gain the shore. Here Paul interposed, 
 and said to the captain, " Except these abide in the 
 ship, ye cannot be saved." And he succeeded 
 not only in persuading them to abide in the ship,
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 209 
 
 but he prevailed upon them to take refreshment 
 and receive comfort. As they had now been 
 driven by the storm fourteen days, they had be- 
 come weary and exhausted with toil and fear, and 
 they had neglected to take their usual food, and 
 refused to be comforted. See how like a philoso- 
 pher and a Christian the apostle labored with 
 them. " I pray you to take some meat ; for this 
 is for your health ; for there shall not a hajr fall 
 from the head of any of you. And when he had 
 thus spoken, he took bread, and gave thanks to 
 God in presence of them all ; and when he had 
 broken it, he began to eat. Then were they all 
 of good cheer, and they also took some meat. 
 And falling into a place where two seas met, they 
 ran the ship aground ;" and though she was broken 
 and ruined by the violence of the waves, " it came 
 to pass that they escaped all safe to land." 
 
 I have thought this piece of history a fit intro- 
 duction to a discourse on Human Destiny. I 
 think I see in it a picture which may be very ap- 
 propriately used to illustrate the present condition 
 and the probable final destiny of the human race. 
 The final destiny of the human race ! Whose soul 
 is not stirred with a deep and solemn interest at 
 the thought ? Who does not feel the moment- 
 ousness of the inquiry, Where and in what will
 
 210 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 terminate our being ? To what coast are we 
 bound, and what will be our everlasting haven ? 
 When we "shuffle off this mortal coil," shall we 
 sink into the waters of nonentity ? or shall we be 
 landed on some foreign shore ? and what will be 
 our condition there, shall we be bound in the 
 chains of slavery, or shall we enter the domains 
 of intellectual and moral freedom? There are 
 those who seem to be indifferent to this subject, 
 and who would persuade us that it does not be- 
 come man, that it is none of his business, to exer- 
 cise his mind upon it, or to bestow upon it his 
 attention and interest. There may be such indi- 
 viduals, and if there are, we freely grant them 
 the right to their opinion, but I must say that I 
 cannot be of their number. I have an infinite in- 
 terest at stake in the matter. I am ready to con- 
 fess that my main business is with the present 
 world, that I have duties here to perform which 
 call for the action of my best powers, and for my 
 constant attention, but I cannot confine my 
 thoughts and aspirations to the present. There 
 is something within me which looks beyond the 
 limits of the passing hour, and loudly inquires, 
 What will be the issue of my being ? The inqui- 
 ry I cannot repress. This bright and glorious 
 universe is nothing to me, in comparison with its
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 211 
 
 importance. I must think upon it, and if I can- 
 not find an answer to it which will meet and satis- 
 fy the wants of my heart, I must weep and la- 
 ment that I was ever ushered into existence. And 
 the importance which I must and do attach to 
 this inquiry, does not arise solely from my interest 
 in my own being. I have associated with those 
 who were as dear to me as myself, and some of 
 them the brightest and the best, are gone ! The 
 sweetest and loveliest flowers that bloomed in the 
 garden of my youth, alas ! where are they ? The 
 tender and self-sacrificing companion of my youth- 
 ful days, and the bright and promising child, the 
 only being that ever wore my own image, have 
 been torn from my embraces, leaving me to buffet 
 the storms of life alone, and making me feel, at 
 times, as if I were living in a world which is little 
 else than a huge sepulchre, outwardly beautiful 
 indeed, but literally filled with bones and putrefac- 
 tion, and often leading me to say to " corruption, 
 Thou art my mother, and to the worm, Thou art 
 my brother and my sister ;" yet from this dreary 
 prison of sorrow, I have looked upward, and ask- 
 ed, with an ardor and a solemnity which I never 
 knew before, for " the way, the truth, and the 
 light," in regard to the purpose of God in the 
 creation of man, especially as it respects his final
 
 212 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 condition. And during the past week, my heart 
 has been touched again, and additional interest 
 given to this subject, by hearing of the sudden 
 and most distressing death of a kind and affec- 
 tionate sister, who grew up with me as a tender 
 plant under the parental roof, but whose offices of 
 sympathy and kindness I can share no longer in 
 the land of the living. And I am beginning to 
 think that the longer I live in this world, the 
 deeper will be the wounds which will be made 
 upon my once young and joyous heart ; or, at 
 least, that the more years I see, the more of trial 
 and suffering I shall be called to experience the 
 more of my friends will be torn from me ; and, of 
 consequence, the dearer and more precious to me 
 will be the subject of human destiny. And I 
 know that I am not alone in this matter. I look 
 around me, and I see a world " groaning and trav- 
 ailing in pain." "A few seem favorites of fate," 
 a few appear to live in sunshine and unmixed 
 prosperity ; but misfortune, affliction, suffering, is 
 the common lot of mortals. Disease and death 
 are all abroad in the world, cutting down the 
 aged and the young, the parent and the child ; 
 and though some may stand longer than others, 
 all will finally have to confess that there is no dis- 
 charge in the war of death ; and there must be a
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 213 
 
 wide and deep desire to know whether the ene- 
 my with which they have to contend can be over- 
 come. I know, therefore, that I am not speaking 
 on an indifferent or useless topic when I speak on 
 the condition and destiny of man. 
 
 The ship of Humanity has heen launched, and 
 we are out upon the broad ocean of existence- 
 The first part of our voyage has been delightful 
 and full of promise. The season of youth is rife 
 with innocent pleasure, and warm with ardent and 
 promising hopes. The mind has not yet been 
 made to feel the bitterness of disappointment, and 
 the cold pressure of affliction upon the heart has 
 not yet checked its joyous aspirations, and caused 
 it to realize that this is a world of danger and trial. 
 The waters over which we are passing are smooth 
 and beautiful ; the winds and storms of adversity 
 have not yet swept over them, and lashed them 
 into fury ; the heavens are all clear and bright ; 
 and we fondly imagine that we have set sail upon 
 a sea which is unvisited with tempests, and on 
 which we are in danger of no injury, no evil. But 
 we go not far before we learn our mistake. The 
 heavens gather clouds and darkness; winds and 
 storms arise, and sweep over the face of the great 
 deep with dreadful violence, making the ocean 
 foam and " boil like a caldron," and tossing our 
 19
 
 214 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 bark " to and fro like a drunken man," and at 
 times we give up our minds to the influence of 
 despair, and wonder why it is that our Creator 
 has put us out upon a sea which is agitated with 
 so many currents and swept with so many storms. 
 When fortune frowns upon us, and the raven 
 wing of affliction is spread out over our prospects, 
 when the pale messenger of death comes up from 
 the ghostly shades of corruption, and takes from 
 our bosoms our friends, and conveys them away 
 to his misty and dreary regions, the sun of our 
 mental horizon becomes shrouded in darkness, the 
 stars hide their beautiful faces from our view, and 
 " all hope is taken away." 
 
 Complete, settled despair, however, is not com- 
 mon. We are creatures of hope, and this princi- 
 ple of our nature rarely if ever fails us, however 
 dark the heavens, or gloomy and fearful the storm. 
 The world within is not so changeful as the world 
 without. The soul, like the compass of the 
 mariner, is its own place, and the magnetic needle 
 is not more faithful in its attractions toward the 
 Pole, than is the mind of man in its aspirations after 
 immortality and infinite good. He cannot rest his 
 mind on the scenes of the present. He is not 
 content to stop at the grave. His wants, his 
 thoughts, his affections overleap this dark barrier,
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 215 
 
 and "expatiate on a life to come." Even if his 
 head is so cool and doubting that he cannot look 
 with the eye of faith beyond it, his heart is un- 
 willing to stop at the narrow house, and sink into 
 its cold precincts to dwell forever. The depths 
 of his inward being, and all the affections of his 
 moral nature, cry aloud for an immortal field for 
 their exercise, and an eternal inheritance for their 
 portion. This desire is so natural and strong in 
 the human heart, that in the majority of our race, 
 whether enlightened or ignorant, in Heathen and in 
 Christain lands, it has begotten a hope of another 
 and higher existence. Even the untutored savage 
 has not been without it, and as man has ascended 
 in the scale of civilization and refinement, it has 
 been more and more attractive to his mental eye, 
 and dearer and dearer to the affections of his 
 heart. 
 
 " Lo, the poor Indian, whose untutored mind 
 Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind ; 
 His soul proud science never taught to stray 
 Far as the solar walk or milky way ; 
 Yet simple Nature to his hope has given 
 Behind the cloud-topt sky, an humbler heaven. 
 Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd, 
 Some happier realm beyond the wat'ry waste, 
 Where friends once more their native land behold, 
 No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold." 
 
 And when man cannot exercise this hope, and
 
 216 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 he cannot believe that he shall finally enter the 
 haven of immortality, how dark are his prospects, 
 how disconsolate his condition ! The discontent- 
 ment and misery which he feels loudly testify that 
 his faith is not in agreement with his nature, and 
 that he was made for a higher destiny than he 
 anticipates. If in this life only he has hope, he is 
 of all creatures most miserable. The brute has 
 not his capacious thoughts, and his ardent de- 
 sires after immortal good, and therefore it can 
 know nothing of the bitterness which is diffused 
 through all the fountains of his enjoyment by the 
 reflection that he is doomed to be swallowed in 
 the ocean of eternal forgetfulness. And when the 
 winds and storms of adversity gather around him, 
 and his frail bark is tossed upon the heaving bil- 
 lows, he has no comforter ; his spirit, like the dove 
 of Noah, goes out upon its trembling pinion to 
 survey the vast and troubled deep, and seek for 
 some island where it can find repose and rest, but, 
 alas, she returns with weary wing and downcast 
 look, and bearing no olive-branch from the land it 
 had sought. And when neither the sun of truth 
 nor the stars of promise appear, and no small tem- 
 pest of sorrow lays upon him, all hope is taken 
 away, and he yields himself up to despair. 
 
 But, my friends, to save us from this dark and
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 217 
 
 sorrowing state of mind, God hatlr stooped to our 
 wants, and given us a Revelation. In the teach- 
 ings of prophets, and especially in the mission of 
 His own Son, we shall find that the Creator has 
 spoken to the mariners on the sea of time, and in 
 tones of tenderness and love exhorted them to " be 
 of good cheer," to trust in him amidst the tem- 
 pests which lay heavily upon them, and to believe 
 that he " rideth upon the storm," and will finally 
 bring them to their " desired haven." To these 
 ignorant and weary mariners, the Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ brings a chart of the great ocean of being, 
 and a compass by which to regulate their voyage. 
 It is a chart of the divine government, and the 
 compass of eternal truth. It is true, that there 
 are some who have but little confidence in their 
 correctness, and even think that we should know 
 just as much of God and futurity, if we should 
 throw them into the sea ; but it is an undeniable 
 fact that those who have studied them with the 
 most care, and especially those who have tried 
 them, and used them most constantly and thorough- 
 ly, have had the greatest confidence in their cor- 
 rectness, and they have found themselves cheerful 
 and happy, at peace with themselves and with 
 God, just in proportion as they have yielded to 
 19*
 
 218 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 their instructions, and regulated their course by 
 their directions. 
 
 I have called the Gospel a chart of the great 
 ocean of being, and I think there is no extrava- 
 gance in the comparison. It gives a revelation of 
 the character of God and the nature of his govern- 
 ment. It tells us that He who made us is not 
 merely our Creator, but our Father ; that he hath 
 created us in his own image, and for the reflection 
 of his glory ; that he regards us and treats us as 
 his own children, and that though he lead us 
 through many dark and trying scenes, he will nev- 
 er leave nor forsake us ; he will lead us forth by 
 a way which they know not, and conduct us to the 
 green pasture of his favor. How big with sub- 
 limity, and how replete with wisdom and comfort 
 are the views which are given of the character of 
 Him who sits at the helm*of the universe ! Listen. 
 " He hath created all things, and for his pleasure 
 they are and were created." " He loveth all the 
 things that are, and hateth nothing which he has 
 made, for he never would have created anything to 
 have hated it." " He is good unto all, and his ten- 
 der merciete are over all his works." " Clouds and 
 darkness are round about him, but justice and 
 judgment are the habitation of his throne." " He 
 will not cast off forever ; but though he cause
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 219 
 
 grief, yet will he have compassion according to the 
 multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict 
 willingly, nor grieve the children of men." " He 
 will not always chide, for the spirits would fail be- 
 fore him, and the souls he has made." " Con- 
 sider the birds of the air ; your heavenly Father 
 feedeth them : will he not much more take 
 care of you, O ye of little faith ?" " He seeth in 
 secret." " Not a sparrow falleth to the ground 
 without his notice, and the very hairs of your head 
 are all numbered before him : Fear ye not, there- 
 fore ; ye are of more value than many sparrows." 
 Whoever looks up to God through these views, 
 will have a light within him which will be to his 
 soul what the sun is to the eye ; and though 
 clouds and storms come over him, his inward eye 
 will see that, while " God maketh darkness his 
 pavilion," he ruleth in goodn(M6, and will make 
 present affliction work for him future and greater 
 good. 
 
 I have called the Gospel also a compass, and 
 have I not very appropriately ? To the mariners 
 on the sea of time it is a guide, and amidst storm 
 and sunshine it points them to the haven of im- 
 mortality and eternal delight. How plain is the 
 language, and how rich and consoling its mighty 
 import ! " The creature was made subject to van-
 
 220 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 ity, not willingly, but by reason of Him who hath 
 subjected the same in hope, because the creature 
 itself shall be delivered from the bondage of cor- 
 ruption, into the glorious liberty of the children of 
 God." " The children of this world marry and 
 are given in marriage, but they which shall be 
 accounted worthy to obtain that world, and the res- 
 urrection from the dead, neither marry, nor are 
 given in marriage ; neither can they die any more ; 
 for they are equal unto the angels, and are the 
 children of God, being the children of the resur- 
 rection." " The last enemy, death, shall be de- 
 stroyed." " As in Adam all die, even so in Christ 
 shall all be made alive." " As we have borne the 
 image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image 
 of the heavenly." " So when this corruptible 
 shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal 
 shall have put *m. immortality, then shall be 
 brought to pass the saying that is written, Death 
 is swallowed up in victory. death, where is 
 thy sting ? grave, where is thy victory ? The 
 sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the 
 law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the 
 victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ." " And 
 I heard every creature which is in heaven, and on 
 the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in 
 the sea, 'and all that are in them, saying, Blessing,
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 221 
 
 and honor, and glory, and power, be unto him that 
 sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for 
 ever and ever." 
 
 What a heavenly and joyful faith ! To all 
 on board the ship Humanity it says, " Be of 
 good cheer," your Father's at the helm, and 
 no harm shall befall you. You shall outride 
 the storm that hangs over your heads ; and 
 though you are cast upon the island of death, 
 and your present barque is made a wreck, 
 and goes to ruin, yet ye shall all escape safe to 
 the land of your desire. "For if your earthly 
 house of this tabernacle be dissolved, ye have a 
 building of God, a house not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens." O, how precious the as- 
 surance to the tempest- tost mariner on the ocean 
 of life ! It gives an anchor to his soul, which is 
 sure and steadfast in the darkest^ stormiest hour; 
 when he is weary and worn down with toil and 
 conflict, it persuades him to take nourishment and 
 comfort, to " be of goo'd cheer," like the crew 
 which Paul instructed ; and he is enabled to say, 
 even when the storm rages around him, " my 
 soul ! why art thou cast down, and why art thou 
 disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God. Yea, 
 though I walk through the valley of the shadow
 
 222 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 of death, I will fear no evil, for God is with me ; 
 his rod and his staff they comfort me." 
 
 But, cruel as it would seem, there are those 
 in the world who would take from us this glorious 
 hope, and leave us to the mercy of the winds and 
 waves, without chart, without compass, and with- 
 out anchor. There are two systems which are en- 
 gaged in this unnatural and unmerciful work. 
 One is the doctrine of Atheism ; the other the doc- 
 trine of Endless Misery. The ship Atheism sails 
 from the port of Chance, and is bound for the 
 maelstrom of annihilation. The barque Endless 
 Misery sails from the harbor of Total Depravity, 
 and is bound for the coast of eternal slavery, where 
 the passengers are to be confined in chains as 
 much more galling than any worn on earth, as the 
 infinite is greater than the finite ! 
 
 The Atheist tells us that man, with all his won- 
 derful powers, came into being without design I 
 that he lives without a purpose, and that death 
 closes his promising career, and plunges him into 
 the black gulf of eternal forgetfulness ! And 
 the advocates of this theory call themselves phi- 
 losophers, and the friends of science, and of our 
 race ! Ah ! 
 
 " la this your triumph this your proud applause, 
 Children of Truth, and championi of her cause 1
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 223 
 
 For this hath science searched, on weary wing, 
 
 By shore and sea, each mute and living thing 1 
 
 Launched with Iluria's pilot from the steep, 
 
 To worlds unknown, and isles beyond the deep 1 
 
 Or round the cape her living chariot driven, 
 
 And wheeled in triumph through the sighs of Heaven 1 
 
 Oh ! star-eyed science, hast thou wander'd there, 
 
 To waft us home the message of despair 1 
 
 Then bind the palm, thy sage's brow to suit, 
 
 Of blasted leaf, and death-distilling fruit ! 
 
 But if the warring winds of Nature's strife 
 
 Be all the faithless charter of my life, 
 
 If Chance awak'd, inexorable power ! 
 
 This frail and feverish being of an hour, 
 
 Doom'd o'er the world's precarious scene to sweep, 
 
 Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, 
 
 To know Delight but by her parting smile, 
 
 And toil, and wish, and weep, a little while ; 
 
 Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain 
 
 This troubled pulse and visionary brain ! 
 
 Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom ! 
 
 And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb !" 
 
 Surely, in the belief of this dark creed, man is 
 wrapped in impenetrable clouds of darkness and 
 gloom ; the sun of truth and the stars of immor- 
 tality cease to glimmer on the mind, and " all hope 
 is taken away." 
 
 Confident as the advocate of this theory may 
 be of its truth, there are two or three things 
 which should cool the ardor of his zeal, and at the 
 same time strengthen the faith of the Christian.
 
 224 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 1. He cannot prove that there is no future 
 and higher existence for man. He can assert it. 
 but assertion is not proof. He can argue against 
 it, but argument is not demonstration. He can rid- 
 icule us for trusting in Revelation as our main 
 ground of hope of a future life ; but he stands in 
 just as much need of a revelation to prove that 
 there is no future existence, as the Christian does 
 to prove that there is. He does not see every- 
 thing that is in the universe. For aught he can 
 tell to the contrary, man has within an immortal 
 principle, and it may outlive the existence of the 
 whole outward creation. The fact is an important 
 one, that some cause has given us existence ; and 
 whatever that cause be, if it be crude, unconscious 
 matter, or even chance, it cannot be proved that it 
 may not raise us from the dead, or by some other 
 process continue our being ; for certainly, it is 
 quite as conceivable that it should continue our 
 existence, as that it should have created us. 
 
 2. In denying to man the hope of a future 
 state, he denies the harmony of nature. He is 
 sometimes heard to discourse largely on the beauty 
 and harmony of nature ; but we cannot see how 
 he can deny to man the hope of a future life, with- 
 out making nature inconsistent with herself, yea 
 without affirming that there is discord and contra-
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 225 
 
 diction in the noblest being which he recognizes in 
 creation. Why ? Because there is no meaning 
 in the powers and wants of man, if he is not 
 destined for immortality. In other words, if he 
 were not made for immortality, then his nature is a 
 contradiction to the harmony of creation : yea, his 
 nature is at war with his destiny. "The powers of 
 the inferior animals are perfectly suited to their 
 condition and their end. They know nothing, and 
 seek nothing, higher than their present state. In 
 gratifying their appetites, they fulfill their destiny, 
 and pass quietly away. Man alone, according to 
 this theory, comes forth to act a part which car- 
 ries no meaning, and tends to no consistent end. 
 Endowed with capacities which extend beyond his 
 present sphere, fitted bj r his rational nature for 
 running the race of immortality, and having aspi- 
 rations for the attainment of that high goal, he is 
 stopped short at the very entrance of his course. 
 He squanders his activity on pursuits which he 
 sees to be vain. He languishes for knowledge 
 which is placed beyond his reach. He thirsts for 
 a happiness which he is never to enjoy. He sees 
 and laments the disasters of his state, but upon 
 the supposition that there is no future life, he can 
 find for them no remedy.'' Verily, nature is here 
 turned into an enemy to herself by this theory, 
 30
 
 226 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 and its advocate is obliged to confess that man, in 
 his view of his destiny, is so far from being the no- 
 blest of God's works, that he is the greatest of his 
 failures ! And, 
 
 3. He can give us nothing better, nothing 
 more consistent or consoling, than the Gospel. 
 " He looks around him, and he sees the unfortunate 
 cheered by its hopes, the aged and in6rm on the 
 verge of the grave supported by its spirit, and the 
 dying pillow rendered soft and joyful by its power. 
 I would beseech him, in the name of mercy, to 
 take not this staff from the hand of the tottering 
 veteran, till he can give him a better. Destroy 
 not this last refuge of the unfortunate, till you can 
 offer a safer retreat. f Dash not this last^cup of 
 consolation from the quivering lips of the dying, 
 unless you can administer a cordial more inspiring. 
 If you can give us anything that will make us more 
 happy in life, or more resigned in death, we will 
 talk of an exchange. But until you are prepared 
 to do this, I entreat you to spare our hopes, and 
 let us drink freely and copiously of the river of 
 life." 
 
 But our attention is drawn toward another 
 sail. Ah ! she is no stranger. Endless Misery 
 ENDLESS MISERY, is streaming upon her flag ! 
 Clearing the maelstrom of annihilation, she is mak-
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 227 
 
 ing her way to a foreign coast. There the crew 
 is to be landed, and then separated ; a few will be 
 conducted into the fields of partial freedom, the 
 rest are to be led away into the regions of eternal 
 bondage, where the most galling chains are to be 
 riveted upon them, and they be made to work for- 
 ever in the prison of infinite despair under the di- 
 rection and the blows of the Prince of everlasting 
 rebellion ! And this is called the Gospel of Christ ! 
 And this is brought to us in the dark night of ad- 
 versity, and presented to our lips as the Balm of 
 Gilead, the cure of our woes ! Ah ! it is more 
 bitter than wormwood ! We cannot drink it. It 
 would disturb the functions of our inward life, and 
 pollute all the fountains of our enjoyment. It 
 would wring tears from the benevolent soul, and 
 plant thorns in the dying pillow. It would blast 
 the glory of God, veil the luminary of heaven's 
 goodness in rayless darkness, blot out the bright 
 stars of. redemption, and quench the beams of hope. 
 To the evils and sufferings of this world, it would 
 add the prospect of infinite woes and endless ago- 
 nies, and the soul of man might well murmur at 
 his fate, and even curse the day of his birth. If 
 he thought and felt on the subject, he would he 
 must say, "Oh ! this is quite too much for poor 
 human nature ; yea, let me rather quietly sink into
 
 228 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 the dreary vortex of non-existence, than to be 
 wafted to the shores ot immortality, to behold a 
 part of my race, and perhaps the dearest of my 
 friends, torn from God and heaven, and dragged 
 down to the flames of a quenchless hell, where 
 they will be ' forever burning, yet unconsumed ; 
 forever wasting, yet enduring still ; forever dying, 
 yet never dead.' ' 
 
 But it is said that man must submit, if it does 
 seem hard. " The conditions of the Gospel were 
 given them," it is said, "and they might have 
 obeyed; but they refused to comply with them, 
 and the fault, therefore, is all their own." So it 
 is very generally argued, and many there be who 
 think that it makes the crooked all straight. We 
 grant that there are conditions in the Gospel, and 
 if we did not believe that they would ultimately 
 be complied with, we should despair of the final 
 salvation of our race. But we believe that God 
 knew what he was about when he established 
 these conditions, and made such arrangements for 
 their being regarded and obeyed, that they will 
 harmonize with his own good purpose, and result 
 in the fulfillment of his will the ultimate salvation 
 of man. We have an appropriate illustration in 
 the case of Paul and the ship. He told the af- 
 frighted crew that though they should be cast
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 229 
 
 upon a certain island, they should all ultimately 
 be saved. "There shall be no loss of any man ;" 
 and so the end proved. But, while on their voy- 
 age, as they came in sight of land, some resolved 
 to " flee out of the ship." Here Paul interceded, 
 and said, " Except these abide in the ship, ye can- 
 not be saved." This was equally true, but it had 
 no effect to annul the first declaration, because 
 they yielded to the condition, and were saved. 
 So, we conceive, it is and will be with mankind. 
 The Gospel comes to them while they are on the 
 rough ocean of life, and says, " Be of good cheer, 
 for there shall be no loss of any man, but of the 
 ship ;" "The living God is the Saviour of all 
 men ;" "He will not cast off forever,' 7 for " he 
 will have all men to be saved, and come to the 
 knowledge of the truth." This is divine truth. But 
 while on their passage to the haven of eternal sal- 
 vation, as they pass islands which seem to promise 
 them pleasure and profit, they are tempted to 
 throw themselves into the waters of sin, and risk 
 their fate to their individual exertions. Here the 
 voice from above speaks again, "Except these 
 abide in the Gospel, ye cannot be saved." This 
 also is divine truth, and so they find it. For if 
 they plunge out into the troubled ocean of trans- 
 gression, they find in it no rest day nor night ; it 
 20*
 
 230 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 is an element for which they were not made, and 
 in which they cannot be happy, and they will all 
 therefore be glad to hearken to their commander, 
 and obey; and "the Captain of our salvation" is 
 of such a character, that he will not cast them 
 from him, and commit them to the devouring ele- 
 ments, because they have been so foolish as to try 
 them, but he will stretch forth his soft but mighty 
 hand, and receive them to himself; so that all will 
 finally " escape safe to land." And so it is writ- 
 ten, " Every knee shall bow and every tongue 
 shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the 
 glory of God the Father." "Then coraeth the 
 end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom 
 to God, even the Father, when he hath put down 
 all rule, and all authority, and power ; for he must 
 reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet." 
 " And the Lord God shallij^llow up death in 
 victory, and wipe away tears from all faces." 
 
 Such, my friends, is the hope of the Gospel. 
 Do you not feel the need of its tidings and conso- 
 lations, to cheer and sustain you in the journey of 
 human life ? Do you not want its chart, compass, 
 and anchor, in your passage across the storm- 
 swept ocean of existence ? Alas, there are some 
 who seem indifferent in regard to this matter, and 
 the*6 are those who even say that " if this doc-
 
 HUMAN DESTINY. 
 
 231 
 
 trine is true, there is no use in preaching it !" 
 What ! no use in knowing the truth ? Why did 
 Paul tell the truth to the despairing crew ? Ah ! 
 it made them free ! It made them of " good 
 cheer," and availed to give them nourishment and 
 comfort. And is there no use in knowing the 
 truth in relation to our final destiny? no use in 
 being made cheerful and joyful by its divine as- 
 surances ? I know the answer. While driven 
 and tossed by the winds and tempests of adversity? 
 I have lent an ear to its " still small voice," as it 
 has whispe'red to my pained and burdened heart, 
 and I know it has power to still, at least, the tem- 
 pest within, and to give quietness, nourishment, 
 and " good cheer" to the soul ; and I say with the 
 poet, 
 
 s which men devise 
 h with treacherous art, 
 ities and lies, 
 e Gospel to my heart."
 
 
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 * 
 
 " These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might 
 remain in you, and that your joymight be full." John, xv. 11. 
 
 WHEN I turn to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, 
 and lend an ear to its tones, I feel sure that I am 
 listening to such music as never had its origin in 
 this jarring, discordant world. The strains which 
 I hear are so sweet and harmonious, so well 
 adapted to the moral ear, and so soothing and 
 tranquillizing in their influence, that I can ascribe 
 their origin to nothing but that Hand which spread 
 out the heavens, moulded our nature in the image 
 of the Infinite, and gave oui^tt^ their capacities 
 and wants. H 
 
 It is to me one of the stro^Brevidences of the 
 divinity of the religion of the Son of God, that it 
 does not aim to augment the fears, and multiply 
 the sorrows, of mankind ; but that, on the con- 
 trary, it speaks to them in words of peace and 
 love ; and would hush all their fears to rest, by 
 persuading them that He, whose " kingdom ruleth. 
 over all," understands their condition and wants, 
 and that He will forever be their Friend and
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 233 
 
 Benefactor. I have studied this religion in vain, 
 if it brings any other than joyful tidings to the 
 children of men, and if it has any other tendency 
 than to give them reconciliation and comfort. 
 Be their condition and circumstances what they 
 may, be they rich or poor, in prosperity or adver- 
 sity, in the paths of virtue or in the ways of vice, 
 it bears to them a cheerful message, and tells them 
 that they all have a Friend and Father in heaven, 
 who will much more take care of them than of the 
 outward world, and who will never become their 
 enemy and hater, even though they disregard his 
 authority, and tread under feet his laws : he will 
 still love them, and use the rod of his justice as 
 an instrument of mercy, to correct, reform, and 
 bless them, " even as a father the son in whom he 
 delighteth." It is not so, I think, with the reli 
 gious systems which owe their origin to the wis- 
 dom of men. They all go upon the idea that 
 there is something wrong in God, or his govern- 
 ment, that the Deity has become an enemy to his 
 creatures on account of their sins ; or, at any rate, 
 that there is great cause for fear and alarm, and 
 that some bloody offering is to be made, or some 
 disagreeable and irksome duty to be discharged, 
 before the soul can be safe under the government
 
 234 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 of its Maker. So it was with the religious teach- 
 ings of the Heathen in days of old, and so it has 
 been with every system of religion under heaven, 
 save the Gospel of Christ. The burden of their 
 communications has been, that the order of the 
 universe has been broken, that the world is rest- 
 ing under some infinite curse, and that God will 
 send all to everlasting destruction, unless they do 
 something to heal the breach in his government, 
 or to obtain the smiles of his angry countenance. 
 In this way, false religion has engendered melan- 
 choly and fear, and instead of relieving or abating 
 the evils of life, and giving man such views of the 
 divine character as to enable him to triumph over 
 them, false religion has added the prospect of 
 imaginary woes to his real miseries, and to the 
 fact that his own conduct is wrong, it has con- 
 nected the idea that there is something wrong in 
 God ; thus making it impossible for him to have 
 that confidence and joy which constitute the life 
 of the soul. But the Gospel comes to man with 
 better news. It tells him that there is no disor- 
 der in the universe, except it be in his own con- 
 duct, that God has made no mistakes in the ad- 
 ministration of the world, and that He will never 
 leave nor forsake the creatures he has made ; and
 
 ' THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 235 
 
 hence, it would cause them -to trust in him with 
 all the heart, and to have peace and joy in the 
 knowledge of truth. 
 
 Am I right, my friends ? Why did Jesus 
 Christ teach and labor ? Why did he preach the 
 great principles of the Gospel to the children of 
 men ? What was the object ? We have the an- 
 swer in our text. " These things have I spoken 
 unto you that my joy might remain in you, and 
 that your joy might be full." What a beautiful 
 commentary on his life and labors ! His public 
 ministry was now closed. For years, he had trav- 
 eled through the vales and over the hills of Pales- 
 tine, uttering things which had been kept secret 
 from the foundation of the world ; and though he 
 had preached repeatedly to great multitudes, and 
 though he had been followed by a dozen Galilean 
 fishermen, there was not yet a single being on earth, 
 himself excepted, who fully understood the pur- 
 pose for which he had labored. That purpose he 
 now states with great explicitness. " / have spo- 
 ken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and 
 that your joy might be full." He had labored to 
 impart his own joy to men, and to give their 
 hearts a fullness of the same. And what was his 
 joy ? Not delight in sensual and worldly pleas- 
 ures, nor in scenes of revelry and mirth, but con-
 
 236 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 fidence in God and hope of good things to come. 
 In this one respect, what a miracle was his life ! 
 He was environed with danger, difficulty, and 
 even death in its bitterest form, but he always had 
 a joy within him which the world did not give, 
 and which it could not take away. When his en- 
 emies persecuted him ; when his friends forsook 
 him, and when he looked in vain to find a being 
 on earth to sympathize with him, and comfort him 
 in his trials and sufferings, there was sunshine and 
 gladness in his soul. To God and the future he 
 always turned with emotions of delight, confident 
 that the evils of the present were ordered in mer- 
 cy, and that all things would work together for 
 good. And this joy he wished to impart to his 
 human brethren. He knew that they needed it. 
 He beheld their condition. He saw them exposed 
 to sickness, misfortune,poverty, suffering, and death, 
 and he counted not his life dear unto himself, if 
 he could impart to them his own views of the di- 
 vine government, and give them such a fullness of 
 joy as to enable them to gain a complete triumph 
 over the evils of the world. 
 
 And did he labor in vain ? Look into the New 
 Testament. " God said, Let there be light, and 
 there was light." The introduction of the Gospel, 
 so different was its message from the teachings of
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 237 
 
 the world, so glorious and joyful were its tidings, 
 it was like the bursting forth of light upon the dark- 
 ness and turmoil of chaos, when " the earth was 
 without form and void, and darkness was upon the 
 face of the deep." It was ushered in with the 
 announcement, " Behold, I bring you good tidings 
 of great JOY, which shall be unto all people." And 
 whenever and wherever it was preached, and by 
 whomsover it was received, it was attended with 
 demonstrations of joy. In one of the parables, 
 the joy which it yields to the true believer is rep- 
 resented by the delight which a certain man had 
 on finding a valuable treasure in a field ; so great 
 was his joy, that he was ready to give all he had 
 for the field. And so it was, in fact, with all who 
 received the Gospel, as it came fresh and pure 
 from the lips of its heaven-commissioned teachers. 
 Will you mark the fact ? It is a thing of no small 
 importance. It shows that the true Gospel is not 
 after man. It proves that the genuine religion of 
 the New Testament is adapted to the condition 
 and wants of human nature, and that it has power 
 to wipe away the tears from the weeping eye of 
 humanity, and carry comfort and consolation to the 
 burdened heart of sorrow. The sacred historian 
 says, " The disciples were FILLED WITH JOY." 
 And when they went forth preaching, like their 
 21
 
 238 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 Master they carried joy and gladness to all hearts 
 who received their message. They preached in 
 Samaria, and we are told that " there was great 
 JOY in that city." And in their preaching, they 
 were frequently -heard to say, "We declare unto 
 you glad tidings," " There is peace in believing, 
 and joy in the Holy Spirit," " Whatsoever things 
 were written aforetime were written for our learn- 
 ing, that we through patience and comfort of the 
 Scriptures might have hope ;" and after preaching 
 in this manner, they often pronounced upon the 
 people this benediction, " Now the God of hope 
 fill you with all JOY and peace in believing." 
 And they were not using words without meaning. 
 What was the testimony of those who heard and 
 believed their preaching ? Were they filled with 
 doubts and fears ? Did they look up to God with 
 trembling, or upon the unseen future with dread 
 and terror ? They have given the answer : will 
 you hear it ? " We who believe do enter into 
 REST." " God hath called us out of darkness into 
 his marvelous light." " We have peace from God 
 our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ." 
 " We rejoice in hope of the glory of God." " Be- 
 lieving, ive have joy UNSPEAKABLE and FULL OF 
 
 GLORY." 
 
 Here we learn something. Here is a fact which
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 239 
 
 the Christian should hold in perpetual remem- 
 brance. Jesus Christ spoke to the children of 
 men, that he might impart his own joy to their 
 hearts, and that their joy might be full. And 
 this glorious purpose was accomplished in all who 
 received it as it was preached by him and his disci- 
 ples ; they were delivered from all withering 
 doubts and tormenting fears ; they had peace from 
 God, and were filled with joy unspeakable and 
 full of glory. 
 
 Now, why was this ? What was it which those 
 who received the Gospel believed, that gave them 
 so much joy ? Let me ask, Was it the cold doc- 
 trine of scepticism ? Did the Gospel bring them 
 the tidings that there is no God, or that, if there 
 is an Author to the existence of man and of na- 
 ture, he is a mere abstract principle, a virtual non- 
 entity, which takes no supervision of the affairs of 
 the universe, no interest in the condition and wel- 
 fare of mankind, and devises no means for their 
 moral and spiritual happiness ? And, consequent- 
 ly, did the Gospel tell them that man is an abso- 
 lute orphan in creation, that he came into existence 
 without design, and without a purpose, that he 
 lives for no higher end than the stone over which 
 he stumbles, and that when his body sinks in 

 
 240 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 death, his spirit evaporates, and his being ends in 
 eternal night ? I say, was this the doctrine of the 
 Gospel which Jesus preached that he might fill 
 men with joy, and which the disciples and all the 
 early believers found "joy unspeakable" in re- 
 ceiving to their hearts ? My hearers can answer 
 the question. It is a question which they can un- 
 derstand, which comes within the scope of their 
 powers. Say, then, can the heart of humanity 
 find joy in this doctrine ? Does it do your souls 
 good, does it fill you with comfort and gladness, 
 to think that this bright and beautiful creation is 
 without a wise and kind Creator, that yourselves 
 are children without a Father, and that all your 
 high thoughts and pure aspirations are mere bub- 
 bles on the waters of existence, and that they 
 must perish in everlasting nothingness ? I know 
 that I need not press the question. Every think- 
 ing, feeling mind answers, in a loud voice, No. 
 This doctrine has no food for the hungering soul 
 of man. There is no nourishment in it for the 
 social affections and the moral sentiments. It has 
 no higher tendency than to starve the soul, and 
 diffuse the coldness of death over all its noble 
 faculties. Most truly did an eloquent orator say 
 of this doctrine, when it was the prevailing philos-
 
 THE JOY OP THE GOSPEL. 241 
 
 ophy in France, "It spreads the funeral crape 
 over nature, discourages oppressed innocence, and 
 insults death." 
 
 No ; the chilling, freezing doctrine of scepticism 
 was not the faith which Jesus Christ brought into 
 the world, and which warmed and rejoiced the 
 hearts of the first believers in Christianity. Such 
 a belief, so far from giving them cheerful views of 
 the government of the universe, and filling them 
 with "joy unspeakable and full of glory," would 
 have eclipsed all the beauty and glory of the uni- 
 verse to their minds, and filled them with sorrow 
 and despair. What, then, was the doctrine which 
 they received? Let me ask again, Was it the 
 doctrine which was the universal sentiment of the 
 Christian world during the dark ages, and which 
 is still quite common in the church, the doctrine 
 which teaches that God is an enemy to a part of 
 his human family, and that he will shut them up 
 in a great furnace, and there burn and torture them 
 with " burning racks and fiery coals," as long as 
 his own throne shall stand ? Do not say this is an 
 improper question. The doctrine of which I 
 speak is a very common one, and the question 
 which I ask is one which you can easily answer. 
 Does the idea that God hates a portion of his 
 creatures, and that he will eternally pour upon 
 21*
 
 242 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 them the besom of his wrath, give peace and joy 
 to the heart ? Does it fill the soul with "joy un- 
 speakable and full of glory," to think even that 
 we shall be the favored ones, that we shall 
 finally enter the high and holy habitation of heav- 
 en, but that we shall be obliged to look down into 
 a great naming furnace, and behold a part of our 
 race, perhaps our own children and friends, rolling 
 and writhing amidst the flames, and to know that 
 they can never, never be relieved ? I can imagine 
 hearts so steeped in selfishness, and so hardened 
 in cruelty, as to prefer this doctrine to every other, 
 and to find in it fullness of joy. It was no doubt 
 a joyful thought with the ancient Pharisees, that 
 God hated the Gentiles, and it is written of Nero 
 that it would have been his greatest pleasure to 
 have had all the people of Rome made into one 
 man, and then to have cut his head off with his 
 own hands ; and to such monsters of pride and 
 cruelty, this doctrine of divine partiality and end- 
 less misery would be the very perfection of re- 
 ligion. They could have no greater joy, than to 
 know that their enemies are the outcasts of God, 
 and to gaze upon their endless agonies ; and they 
 would shout, " Glory, glory to God in the high- 
 est," when they heard their wailings and groans. 
 But I cannot conceive that the human heart in its
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 243 
 
 natural state, much less the heart of the true 
 Christian, can derive joy from such a faith and 
 such prospects. 
 
 Who can fulfill the Gospel rule, " Love thy 
 neighbor as thyself," and be filled with joy at the 
 thought that his neighbor is under the curse of 
 God ; and who can lay any claim to humanity, to 
 say nothing of Christianity, who talks of expe- 
 riencing delight in the ceaseless torture of a part 
 of his race, even though they are his enemies ? I 
 have known many nominal believers in this doc- 
 trine, but I must say that I have known but a 
 very few real believers in it. The heart which 
 God has given them ii too good for it. They 
 read it, perhaps, every day in the creed, and a blaz- 
 ing hell is kept constantly before them in the 
 preaching to which they listen, but human nature 
 is generally too strong for the creed and the 
 preacher, and they persuade themselves that they 
 and their friends will escape. But when the creed 
 and the preacher prove too mighty for the plead- 
 ings of the heart, and the mind adopts the senti- 
 ment as a living truth, what is the effect ? Ah ! 
 peace and joy forsake the breast ; hope, the only 
 comfort of the miserable, expires within them, 
 and the soul sinks into despair, often into insanity. 
 Mark it where you will, the advocates of this doc-
 
 
 244 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 trine are joyful and happy just in proportion 
 as they disbelieve it, that is, just in proportion as 
 they succeed in throwing off the idea that the doc- 
 trine is true; and they are filled with sorrow and 
 misery just in proportion as they believe it. Can 
 this be the Gospel, then ? Can this be any part 
 of that faith which rejoiced the hearts of the 
 early Christians ? Nay, nay, not a particle of it. 
 And do you not see why ? Belief in the Gospel 
 gave joy, but belief in this doctrine gives sorrow. 
 The early Christians said, " BELIEVING, we have 
 joy unspeakable and full of glory ;" but if they 
 had been believers in the doctrine of endless mis- 
 ery, they would have said, as its modern believ- 
 ers say, at least in their hearts, " Believing, we 
 have sorrow unspeakable and full of despair." 
 This is certainly the sentiment of all wh have 
 made a hearty trial of the doctrine, and the con- 
 clusion ought to be that they are not true Gospel 
 believers. I will give you an illustration. I know 
 of a mother who was lately called to bury a son. 
 She had been educated in the doctrine which 
 teaches that this world is a state of probation, and 
 that all who do not experience a miraculous con- 
 version in this state must suffer never-ending tor- 
 ments in the one to come. The son died without 
 giving satisfactory evidence that he had expe-
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 245 
 
 rienced such a change, and the good woman was 
 almost distracted. She awfully feared that there 
 was no safety for her son, and she more than half 
 imagined that he had fallen under the endless 
 curse of his Maker. Her faith gave her no recon- 
 ciliation, no joy, and as she gave utterance to her 
 sorrow, she was heard to say, "I cannot be a 
 Christian, because I am not reconciled." In all 
 sincerity and charity, we believe that the woman 
 was more than half right. She had a good heart ; 
 she loved her son, and she could not bear the 
 thought that he would be banished from her for- 
 ever ; but she was wanting in the faith of the 
 true Christian. Had she been a believer in gen- 
 uine Christianity, in the Gospel in its fullness, as 
 preached by Jesus Christ, and as believed and re- 
 joiced in by all the first Christians, she would 
 have given up her dying son to his Father in heav- 
 en without a murmur or a fear, and bowed with 
 resignation to the word which called him away in 
 the brightness and beauty of youth. 
 
 We therefore come to the conclusion, that Je- 
 sus Christ taught neither the cold doctrine of 
 scepticism, which teaches that there is not a God 
 who loves and will take care of his creatures, nor the 
 more common doctrine which teaches that God 
 loves but a part of his creatures, and that he will
 
 246 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 forever burn the rest of them in the fires of a 
 quenchless hell ; and we have come to this con- 
 clusion from the fact, that the things which Jesus 
 spake filled men with joy, while these doctrines 
 have no other influence than to fill the mind with 
 gloom and sorrow. And we have positive proof 
 of the correctness of this conclusion in the teach- 
 ings of Christ. I will give you his words. " Take 
 heed, and bewaie of the doctrine of the Sadducees 
 and of the Pharisees" The doctrine of the Sad- 
 ducees was a system of speculative scepticism, 
 which contended that God took no interest in the 
 human race, and that their existence would end in 
 the grave ; and Christ warned men against it, be- 
 cause it would have a chilling influence on their 
 hearts, and leave them without God, and without 
 hope in the world. The doctrine of the Pharisees 
 was a partial system of religion, which taught that 
 God loved none but a favored few, and that he 
 would inflict endless torments upon a large portion 
 of his creatures ; and he warned men against it, 
 because he knew that it had a tendency to shut 
 the mind up, even in a worse state of darkness 
 and sorrow than the gloomy doctrine of the Sad- 
 ducees. 
 
 " These things have I spoken unto you, that my 
 joy might remain in you, and that your joy might
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 247 
 
 lifull" What things? That is, what views of 
 the divine character and human destiny did Jesus 
 give, which could fill mankind with joy ? We 
 will give you a brief answer, and ask you to search 
 the Scriptures, to see if we do not tell the truth. 
 1.. He taught that God is the equal Friend and 
 Father of all his intellectual and moral offspring, 
 that he loves them with pure and undying affec- 
 tion, and that he will much more take care of 
 them than he will of the outward creation. Will 
 you hear Jesus speak ? " Your Father seeth in 
 secret." " He knoweth what ye have need of 
 before ye ask him." " He maketh his sun to rise 
 on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain upon 
 the just and the unjust." " He loveth the world." 
 " He is kind to the unthankful and the evil." " Be- 
 hold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, nei- 
 ther do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your 
 heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much 
 better than they ? Consider the lilies of the field ; 
 how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they 
 spin ; and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon, 
 in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. 
 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass which is to- 
 day in the field, and is to-morrow cast into the 
 oven, shall he not much more clothe you, ye of 
 little faith ?" " Are not two sparrows sold for a
 
 248 THE JOY OP THE GOSPEL. 
 
 farthing ? and one of them shall not fall on the 
 ground without your Father. But the very hairs 
 of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not, 
 therefore, ye are of more value than many spar- 
 rows." What exalted and exalting conceptions of 
 the character of our Maker ! How well calculated 
 to give mankind confidence in the care and love 
 of their Creator, and to inspire their souls with 
 joy in every scene and trial of life ! 
 
 2. He taught that a glorious immortality is in 
 reserve for man, in which he will be delivered 
 from the imperfections and sorrows incident to 
 flesh and blood, and be made equal to the angels 
 in heaven. Hear him again. " I came down from 
 heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of 
 him that sent me ; and this is the will of him 
 that sent me, that of all he hath given me," 
 (" and he hath given me power over all flesh,") 
 " I should lose nothing, but raise it up at the last 
 day." " And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, 
 will draw all men unto me." " Other sheep I 
 have which are not of this fold ; them I must bring, 
 and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be 
 one fold and one shepherd." " In the resurrection 
 they shall neither marry, nor be given in marriage, 
 but they shall be equal unto the angels in heaven ; 
 neither can they die any more, for they are the
 
 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 249 
 
 children of God, being the children of the resur- 
 rection." What cheerful and soul- comforting 
 views of human destiny ! No wonder that the 
 first believers of the Gospel were filled with joy 
 unspeakable by their faith, and were able to say, 
 even in affliction and death, " We joy in God 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have 
 received reconciliation." 
 
 Such are the things which Jesus spake, that his 
 joy might remain in men, and that their joy might 
 be full ; and what a blessing have these divine 
 sentiments been to the world ! How much cheerful- 
 ness have they shed over human life, and how many 
 hearts have they soothed and comforted, when 
 they have been pained by the weight of adversity 
 or by the inroads of death ! Ah ! we think but 
 little of the value of their influence on the condi- 
 tion and happiness of our race ; aye, very little 
 indeed, till we have been made to suffer the trials 
 and evils which lie in the path of mortals. The value 
 of the cheerful view which the Gospel imparts has 
 been seen by the celebrated Dickens, and he has ex- 
 pressed it in the following sentence : " If I have 
 put into my writings anything which can fill the 
 young mind with better thoughts of death, or 
 soften the grief of older hearts ; if I have written 
 one word which can afford pleasure or consola- 
 22
 
 250 THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 tion to old or young in time of trial, I shall con- 
 sider it something achieved something which I 
 shall be glad to look upon in after life." This is 
 the language of benevolence, and thousands have 
 been made to shed tears of joy to think that there 
 is a writer of fiction who breathes so much cheerful- 
 ness through his writings, as to soothe the fears 
 and mitigate the sorrows of some of his race. But 
 what has Dickens said, or what can he say, which 
 hag or can have half the power to give our race 
 cheerful and joyful views of God and the future, 
 as the things which were spoken by Jesus Christ ? 
 And yet, there are many in the world who seem to 
 be unconscious that the Gospel has been, or can be, 
 of any service to mankind, and who would even 
 have us believe that it is a cheat and a curse ; and 
 there are others who say that, if the Gospel is 
 good tidings of great joy which shall be unto all 
 people, there is no need of preaching it ! 0, when 
 will mankind learn the true sources of happiness, 
 and act as if they were the friends of their race ! 
 " These things have I spoken unto you, that 
 my joy might remain in you, and that your joy 
 might be full."
 
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