» 
 
 ■ 
 
 ML 
 
 ■ MKtoK 
 
■^< : 
 
 warn 
 
 <£: 
 
 % 
 
 **-; 
 
 ■ 
 
 &? 
 
 ■ 
 
 4*" 
 
 Jf! 
 
 >m 
 
1 
 
 I ■ ' 
 
 IK J 
 
 
 ••<#' 
 
>.. 
 
 ?•--. 
 
 '-*■* 
 
SERMONS 
 
 ."-, 
 
 BY THE LATE \ ; 
 
 Rev. WALTER BLAKE KIRWAN, 
 DjEJ^JV OF KILLMJL. 
 
 WITH 
 
 A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA I 
 
 PUBLISHED BT M. CAREY, NO. 121, CHESNUT STREET, 
 
 AND TOR SALE BY WE LIS AND LILLY, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 1816 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
 a v 3 
 
7 
 
 y e 
 
 It i r 
 
 *.£ 
 
 TO 
 
 Mbs. peter latquche. 
 
 1*1 
 
 AIA/ 
 
 Madam, 
 
 IT is impossible to find, in the 
 community of those by whom the 
 late Dean of Killala was esteemed, 
 any one, to whom, had he lived to 
 publish his Sermons, he would have 
 dedicated them in preference to you, 
 whom he had so long looked up to 
 as the affectionate and unaffected 
 Patroness of the Widow and the Or- 
 phan, for whom he had, for eighteen 
 years, been the assiduous and sue* 
 cessful advocate. 
 
 726 
 
IV 
 
 Your kind, earnest, unabated and 
 effectual patronage of the widow and 
 children of the Dean, from the mo- 
 ment of his death, would give you 
 an original title to have these Ser- 
 mons dedicated to you. 
 
 To you, therefore, with love, reve- 
 rence, and gratitude, these Sermons 
 are dedicated, by, 
 
 Madam, 
 Your affectionate, 
 
 Obedient and faithful Friend, 
 
 WILHELMINA KIRWAN. 
 
 MotTJTT-PLEASANT, 
 Jan, 1813. 
 
A SKETCH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REV. DEAN KIRWAN. 
 
 THIS celebrated preacher was descended from 
 an ancient and respectable Roman Catholic family, 
 and born in Galway about the year 1754. 
 
 He was sent in early youth to the college of 
 English Jesuits at St. Ouiers, in whose classic 
 shades, as he often declared, he imbibed the noble 
 ambition of benefiting mankind. 
 
 At the age of seventeen he embarked for the Danish 
 island of St. Croix, in the West Indies, under the 
 protection of his father's cousin-german, who had 
 large possessions there ; but after enduring for six 
 years a climate pernicious to his delicate constitution, 
 and spectacles of oppression and cruelty shocking 
 to his feelings, ho returned to Europe in disgust. 
 
VI 
 
 By the advice of bis maternal uncle, then titular 
 primate of Ireland, he repaired to the University of 
 Louvain, where he received priest's orders, and was 
 soon after honoured with the chair of natural and 
 moral philosophy : but in 1778 he was called from 
 the sequestered pursuits of science to the cure of 
 souls, as chaplain to the Neapolitan ambassador at 
 the British court. 
 
 Before a small but respectable congregation he 
 goon attained celebrity ; and some of the discourses 
 which he pronounced in His Excellency's chapel 
 were printed, and should have formed part of this 
 collection, if any copies of them could have been 
 recovered. But he was then only qualifying himself 
 for greater exertions, and with that view assiduously 
 attended those splendid exhibitions of public speak- 
 ing which were at that time displayed in the senate 
 and at the bar, where the conspicuous merit of his 
 countrymen could not fail to inflame his ardent 
 temper with enthusiastic emulation. 
 
 Amidst this meridian blaze of eloquence, the 
 church alone continued cold, and, (however enlight- 
 ened by an improved philosophy) had seldom been 
 warmed but by the fiery breath of polemical divinity. 
 
 To rouse devotion from this profound lethargy, 
 was a daring novelty which demanded the powers of 
 a Kirwan. Fortunately for the interests of humanity, 
 be felt his force, and seized the glorious opportunity. 
 After two years retirement in the bosom of his family, 
 
Vll 
 
 probably absorbed in the consideration of this im- 
 portant step, he at length, in the year 1787, resolved 
 to conform to the established religion ; a determina- 
 tion which was greatly promoted by the conviction 
 (as he himself declared,) that he should thus obtain 
 more extensive opportunities of doing good. He 
 was, in consequence, introduced by the Rev. Dr. 
 Hastings, Archdeacon of Dublin, to his first Pro- 
 testant congregation in St. Peter's church, where he 
 preached on the &4th of June in that year. 
 
 The first sermon of so distinguished a convert 
 Baturally attracted an overflowing congregation, who 
 •xpected, that, according to immemorial usage, he 
 Would reprobate the doctrine and practices of the 
 church from which he had withdrawn ; but, instead 
 of " pulling down the altar at which he had sacri- 
 ficed," he exhibited an example of Christian meek- 
 ness, liberality, and conciliation, in the choice of a 
 subject utterly unconnected with controversy. Nor 
 did he, upon any subsequent occasion, profane the 
 pulpit by religious or political intolerance, or even, 
 in his most confidential communications, breathe a 
 syllable of contempt, or reproach against any re- 
 ligious persuasion whatever. 
 
 They, who are conscious of interested infirmity, 
 naturally suspect the motives of a line of conduct 
 apparently calculated to invite promotion : but his 
 unblemished and amiable life, fervently devoted to 
 the public good, may vindicate his preference of a 
 sphere in which he could pursue that great object 
 
Vlll 
 
 with the best effect : and if he sometimes adverted 
 to political events, it was not surprising that a zeal- 
 ous divine should he shocked at the sudden crush of 
 all religious establishments in France, of which 
 (during the captivity of the ill-fated Louis) he was 
 partly an eye-witness. As the habitual advocate of 
 humanity, be felt peculiar horror at the atrocities of 
 an ungovernable multitude ; but they who were most 
 gratified by his vehement invectives against such 
 outrages, were often no less surprised and humiliated 
 by the manly boldness with which he intermingled 
 severe, though general, reprehension of their own 
 vices. 
 
 For some time after his conformity, he preached 
 every Sunday in St. Peter's church, and the col- 
 lections for the poor, on every occasion, rose four or 
 five-fold above their usual amount. Before the ex- 
 piration of his first year, he was wholly reserved for 
 the distinguished and difficult task of preaching cha- 
 rity sermons ; and on the 5th of November 1788, 
 the governors of the general daily schools of several 
 parishes entered into a resolution, — " That from the 
 " effects which the discourses of the Rev. Walter 
 "Blake Kirwan, from the pulpit, have had, his 
 "officiating in the metropolis was considered a 
 " peculiar national advantage, and that vestries 
 "'should be called to consider the most effectual 
 u method to secure to the city an instrument, under 
 "Providence, of so much public benefit." 
 
tx 
 
 In the same year be was preferred, by tbe Arch- 
 bishop of Dublin, to the prebend of Howth, and in 
 the next, to the parish of St. Nicholas- Without, the 
 joint income of which ainouuted to about 4UQ1. a 
 year. 
 
 These were his only church- preferments, until 
 the year 1800, when the late Marquis Cornwailis, 
 then Lord-lieutenant, preferred him to the deanery 
 of Killala, worth about 4001. a year, at which time 
 ke resigned the prebend of Howth. 
 
 His ardour was not abated by promotion, nor his 
 meekness corrupted by admiration ; though when- 
 ever he preached, such multitudes assembled that it 
 was necessary to defend the entrance of the church 
 by guards arid palisadoes. lie was presented with 
 addresses and pieces of plate from every parish, and 
 the freedom of various corporations ; his portrait was 
 painted and engraved by the most eminent artists; 
 and (what was infinitely more grateful to his feel- 
 ings) the collections at his sermons far exceeded any 
 that ever were known in a country distinguished for 
 unmeasured benevolence. Even in times of public 
 calamity and distress, his irresistible powers of per- 
 suasion, repeatedly produced contributions exceeding 
 a thousand or twelve hundred pounds at a sermon ; 
 and his hearers, not content with emptying their 
 purses into the plate, sometimes threw in jewels or 
 watches, as earnest of further benefactions. 
 
The native warmth of his character breathed 
 through all his discourses, and animated his conver- 
 sation. His action was various and emphatic, with- 
 out seeming studied or outrageous ; his voice full 
 and melodious ; and his utterance successively so- 
 lemn, earnest, melting, and impassioned, without the 
 least appearance of affected modulation. His glance 
 was piercing, his countenance austere and command- 
 ing, and his whole delivery was in perfect unison 
 with the evangelical style and spirit of his discourses, 
 which bore a strong impression of vigorous original 
 conception and glowing zeal, illuminated by sound 
 judgment and a profound knowledge of human na- 
 ture. 
 
 He seems cautiously to have abstained from polish- 
 ing any part of his sermons too highly, to blend with 
 such extemporaneous effusions as occasional circum- 
 stances suggested, many of which burst from him 
 with a rapid and overwhelming impetuosity, that 
 hurried away the passions of his auditory in resist- 
 less ecstacy. 
 
 They who expect high finishing and figurative 
 pomp, and cannot be satisfied without poetry in 
 prose, will find nothing in these remains to gratify 
 their vitiated taste. But, though bereft of the magic 
 of emphatic delivery, and the vigour and vivacity of 
 many extempore additions, they still present to such 
 as duly weigh the proper objects of a Christian 
 orator, the revived spirit of the primitive fathers of the 
 church, purified from their principal defects. No 
 
XI 
 
 quibbling of words, or anatomizing of texts ; no 
 quaint glosses, or strained applications of Scripture ) 
 no pedantic dissertations upon Hebrew roots ; no sub- 
 tile skirmishing with shadows, or insulting triumphs 
 over unrefuted infidelity : but a fervent and pressing 
 appeal to the understanding and the heart ; a copious, 
 clear, and irresistible torrent of reasoning, flows from 
 a thorough conviction, and sincere anxiety not to 
 refute or revile, but to convince and reform. 
 
 From this masculine strain of impassioned exhor- 
 tation, conveyed in diction not florid, but elevated ; 
 and with a voice and manner not theatrical, but im- 
 pressive, resulted effects proportionably solid ; and 
 contributions (amounting almost to prodigality) pro- 
 duced foundations which promise to be permanent 
 monuments of national beneficence. 
 
 With the new convert also commenced a new era 
 in pulpit eloquence, which has ever since been ma- 
 nifestly improved ; while some, who were astonished 
 that with equal exertion they could not rise to equal 
 energy, were reduced to envy what they had vainly 
 tried to imitate, and traduced him as a declaimer, 
 because they could not penetrate his secret for giving 
 to elaborate composition the air of immediate inspi- 
 ration. 
 
 It is to be lamented that several of the pathetic 
 addresses which first exalted his fame are missing ; 
 probably because he trusted chiefly to his excellent 
 memory, or the spontaneous effusion* of a mind 
 
pregnant with thought and feeling;. But in pro- 
 portion as his subject became exhausted, curiosity 
 was abated, and invidious criticism emboldened. 
 It consequently became incumbent on him to com- 
 mit to writing the greater part, if not the whole of 
 his later sermons, (which, as they had cost him mors 
 labour, he was inclined to prefer;) yet it must be 
 remembered that they suffer all the disadvantages of 
 posthumous publication, and the want of many finish- 
 ing touches which the parental solicitude of an 
 author would undoubtedly have bestowed upon his 
 admired productions. 
 
 To correct every minute inaccuracy would involve 
 the necessity of adding, as well as transposing and 
 suppressing, which (if not injurious to his reputa- 
 tion) would be a gross imposition on the public. 
 To aim at extreme exactness, would, indeed, de- 
 stroy the whole texture and character of his style, 
 and would be as absurd as employing a lapidary to 
 polish the dome of a cathedral. Some inaccuracies 
 must be pardoned to an active imagination. Some 
 redundance of expression contributes to popular 
 effect : the iron temper of the multitude cannot be 
 modelled but by a glowing heat and reiterated 
 strokes, and amplification is essential to energy and 
 magnificence: "Son amputata oratio et abscissa, 
 u sed lata et magnifiea et excelsa, tonat, fulgurat, 
 "omnia denique pcrturhat ac miscet.'"' 
 
 The effects of this vein of composition cannot be 
 more strikingly illustrated than by the beautiful 
 
panegyric pronounced by Mr. Grattan in the Irish 
 Parliament, on 19th of June, 1792 :— " And what 
 "has the Church to expect? What is the case of 
 "Dr. Kirwan? This man preferred our country and 
 "our religion, and brought to both genius superior 
 "to what he found in either. He called forth the 
 "latent virtues of the human heart, and taught- men 
 "to discover in themselves a mine of charity, of 
 "which the proprietors had been unconscious. In 
 "feeding the lamp of charity, he has almost ex- 
 hausted the lamp of life. He came to interrupt 
 " the repose of the pulpit, and shake one world 
 " with the thunder of the other. The preacher's 
 " desk becomes the throne of light. Round him a 
 " train, not such as crouch and swagger at the levee 
 " of princes ; not such as attend the procession of 
 " the viceroy, horse, foot, and dragoons ; but that 
 " wherewith a great genius peoples his own state, — 
 " charity in ecsttcy, and vice in humiliation; — va- 
 " nity, arrogance, and saucy empty pride, appalled 
 " by the rebuke of the preacher, and cheated, for a 
 u moment, of their native improbity and insolence. — 
 "What reward? St. Nicholas-Within, or St. 
 " Nicholas- Without ! The curse of Swift is upon 
 " him : to have been born an Irishman and a man 
 "of genius, and to have used it for the good of his 
 " country." 
 
 On 22nd of September 1798, Mr. Kirwan mar- 
 wed Wilhelmina Richards, youngest daughter of 
 Goddard Richards, Esq., late of Grange, in the 
 
xiv 
 
 county of Wexford, with whom he lived in uninter- 
 rupted harmony and happiness : his domestic vir- 
 tues exemplified his public precepts; and his whole 
 conduct was the more conspicuous for hnegHty, 
 kindness, and generosity, as those qualities have 
 been supposed incompatible with a monastic educa- 
 tion. 
 
 But the period rapidly approached when the af- 
 flicted were to deplore their ablest advocate ; and 
 his unsparing exertions, in behalf of helpless in- 
 nocence and want, were to receive their ultimate 
 reward. Exhausted by the fatigues of his mission, 
 this excellent man died, with signal piety and resig- 
 nation, at his house at Mount-Pleasant, p ar Dublin, 
 on &7th of October, 1805. His funeral was atten- 
 ded to his own church of Ht. Nicholas- Without, 
 by the children of all the parish schools in Dublin, 
 and his pall was borne by six gentlemen of the first 
 distinction. 
 
 His widow was left with two sons and two 
 daughters, with so slender a provision that they 
 must have pined in obscurity and indigence, had not 
 His Majesty been graciously pleased to grant her a 
 pension of 3001. a year for her life, with the rever- 
 9ion to her daughters. But for the suns of him who 
 fell a victim to his v»\l in the cause of universal be- 
 nevolence, no provision whatever has hitherto been 
 «ado. 
 
XV 
 
 May these sermons, which are printed for then? 
 benefit, enable their surviving parent to give them 
 such an education, as becomes the memory of their 
 revered father; to whom the fatherless and the 
 widow for so many years owed their •omforts, and, 
 almost, their existence ! 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 [For the Schools of St. Peter's Parish.] 
 
 1 Cor. x. 24. Let no man seek his own, but every 
 man another's wealth. - - Page 2t 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 [For the Meath Hospital.] 
 
 St. Luke, xvi. 25. Son, remember that thou in 
 
 thy life time receivedst thy good things, likewise 
 
 Lazarus evil things ; but now he is comforted, 
 
 and thou art tormented. 43 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 Proverbs, xxxi. 30. A woman that feareth the 
 Lord ; she shall be praised. - * 63 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 [In support of the Female Orphan House.] 
 Ephes. vi. 4. Bring them up in the nurture and 
 
 admonition of the Lord. 8? 
 
 <2B 
 
XVlll 
 SERMON V. 
 
 [*For the Female Orphan House.] 
 
 St. John, xiii. 34. A new commandment I give 
 unto you, that you love one another. Page 113 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 [For the Female Orphan House, Dec. 23, 1T98.J 
 
 St. James, iii. 17. Tlie wisdom that is from above 
 is full of ynercy. - - - - 137 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 [The Love of our Country.] 
 
 Book of Wisdom, xii. 13. For neither is there 
 any God hut thou that carestfor all. - 159 
 
 SERMON VIII, 
 
 I f,he Relief and Cure of diseased Children, and for Inoc- 
 ulation with the Cow Pox.] 
 
 (St. Mauk, viii. 36. What shall it profit a man 
 
 \f fye gp.in the whole world and Ipse his own 
 
 mil? - J85 
 
XIX 
 
 t 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 [For St. ^Verburg ? s Parish School, Jan. 22, 1804.] 
 
 Romans, x. %. For I bear record that they have 
 the zeal of God. - - - Page 205 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 * For the Poor Children of the Parish of St. Nicholas-Without.] 
 
 Psalm, xviii. 30. As for God his way is perfect: 
 
 he is a buckler to all those that trust in him. 227 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 [This was a Charity Sermon preached in the Year 1798, for the 
 Benefit of the Widows and Children of those of the Yeomen- 
 ry and Militia, who fell in the Rebellion.] 
 
 John, xin. 34?. Jl new Commandment I give unto 
 you, that ye love one another. - - %53 
 
XX 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 CThla Sermon was preached for the Female Orphan HwBe.^ 
 
 Psalm xviii. JO. 19. lie sent from above. IL 
 
 took me. He drew me out of many waters 
 
 He brought me forth also into a large place. II 
 
 delivered me, because he delighted in me. 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 [For the Poor Children of the Parish of St. Nicliolas-Withour, 
 March 10, 180J.] 
 
 Job, v. 7. Man is bom to trouble, as the sparks 
 fly upward >, (): , 
 
SERMON I. 
 
 [For the Schools of St. Peter's Parish.] 
 
 1 Cor. c. x. v. 24. 
 
 ?' Let no man seek his own, but every man another's 
 wealth." 
 
 THE possession of happiness is the principle and 
 end of all our actions and passions, our pleasures 
 and our pains. The common or universal center to 
 which all animated nature is hurried by rapid and 
 irresistible movement. Men are united in society 
 only to procure it. The arts and sciences have been 
 invented only to perfect it. All states and profes- 
 sions are so many channels in which it is sought. 
 The great and mean, rich and poor, infancy and 
 age, passions and talents, virtues and vices, plea- 
 sures and toils, are all engaged in the unremitting 
 pursuit of it. In a word, from the people that 
 inhabit the most civilized cities, to the savage that 
 prowls in the bosom of the wilderness ; from the 
 throne of the monarch to the hut of the most abject 
 peasant, the world is in labour to bring forth true 
 peace and tranquillity of soul. 
 
 C 
 
22 
 
 My object on Uie present oecasion is not to enquire 
 into tie secret of this sublime and inexhaustible 
 science. I am inclined however to believe that if it 
 has any existence upon this earth, it is probably in 
 the soul of a true Christian. Nor is there ary des- 
 cription of our brethren, however abject and forlorn, 
 to whom this tender and consoling invitation of our 
 blessed Lord is not oftentimes addressed with effect: 
 u Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy 
 u laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
 The wisdom of the Gospel, my friends, is chiefly 
 addressed to the heart, and therefore is easily under 
 stood by all. It is in touching that it enlightens us, 
 in touching that it persuades. Directed by the light 
 of faith, the eye of the true Christian is intensely 
 fixed on the great sphere of eternity. He hears the 
 solemn voice of his religion, which tells him, that in 
 man there are two distinct beings, the one material 
 and perishable, the other spiritual and immortal. He 
 knows and contemplates the rapid advance of that 
 futurity, which is not measured by the succession of 
 days and nights, or the revolution of years and ages. 
 Before these profound and magnificent impressions 
 all worldly glory fades. No interests can possess or 
 transport his heart, but those to which he is invited 
 from above. No, not a desire in his breast, not a 
 movement in his life ; no evil in his apprehension, or 
 happiness in his conception, that refers not to eter- 
 nity; he is all immensity of views and projects : and 
 hence that true nobility of spirit, that calm, majestic 
 indifference which looks down oa the visionary enter- 
 
23 
 
 prizes of man, sees them, unstable and fleeting as 
 the waves of a torrent, pressed and precipitated by 
 those that pursue, and scarce tell you where they 
 are, when you behold them no more : hence like- 
 wise that equality of soul, which is troubled at no 
 reverse or vicissitude of life, which knows not those 
 tormenting successions, those rapid alternations of 
 pleasure and pain, so frequent in the breast of world, 
 lings : to be elevated by the slightest success, 
 depressed by the slightest reverse, intoxicated at a 
 puff of praise, inconsolable at the least appearance 
 of contempt, re-animated at a gleam of respect, tor- 
 tured by an air of coldness and indifference; 
 unbounded in all wishes, and disgusted after all 
 possession, is a spectacle of human misery that 
 would enhance the peace of a true Christian, did all 
 the influence of a divine religion not infuse into his 
 heart as mu^h pity for his. mistaken brethren, as it 
 does superior dignity and elevation into his sen- 
 timents. 
 
 But without pursuing this character any further, 
 of which, I would please myself in thinking, there 
 are some living illustrations before me ; I beg leave 
 to observe, in nearer conformity with my text ; that 
 as self-love is the most active principle of the human 
 soul, and to seek our own wealth or happiness is 
 to obey an innate and irresistible impulse, neither 
 reason or religion go to hinder or discourage a 
 just and reasonable attention to our own temporal 
 interests ; nor should any of the gospel precepts be 
 explained in a manner which is inconsistent with 
 
24 
 
 that eternal law, which the finger of God hath 
 traced on our hearts. No. Attention to our own 
 concerns can become culpable only, when they so 
 far enslave and engross us, as to leave us neither 
 leisure or inclination to promote the happiness of 
 our fellow creatures. Then does self-love degene- 
 rate into selfishness. This, indeed, is a dark and 
 melancholy transformation of our natural character, 
 and the last term of its abasement. When the light 
 of benevolence is entirely put out, man is reduced to 
 that state of existence, which is disavowed by 
 nature, and abhorred of God ! Let one suppose him, 
 I say, but once ^radically divested of all generous 
 feelings, and entirely involved in himself; it will be 
 impossible to say, what deeds of shame and horror 
 he will not readily commit : in the balance of his 
 perverted judgment, honor, gratitude, friendship, 
 religion, yea, even natural affection, will all be out- 
 weighed by interest. The maxim of the Homan 
 satirist will be his rule of life, " money at any rate." 
 If the plain and beaten paths of the world, diligence 
 and frugality, will conduct him to that end, it is 
 well : but if not, rather than fail of his object, I will 
 be bold to say, he will plunge, without scruple or 
 remorse, into the most serpentine labyrinths of fraud 
 and iniquity. 'Whilst his schemes are unaccom- 
 plished, fretfulness and discontent will lower on his 
 brow ; when favourable, and even most prosperous, 
 bis unslaked and unsatisfied soul still thirsts for 
 more. As he is insensible to the calamities of his 
 fellow creatures, so the greatest torment he can ex- 
 perience, is an application to his charity and com- 
 
25 
 
 passion. Should he stumble, like the Levite, on 
 some spectacle of woe, he will, like the Levite, has- 
 ten to the other side of the way, resist the finest 
 movements of nature, and cling to the demon of in- 
 humanity, as the guardian angel of his happiness. 
 Suppose him, however, under the accidental nece^ 
 sity of listening to the petition of misery ; he will 
 endeavour to beat down the evidence of the case 
 by the meanest shifts and evasions ; or will cry 
 aloud, as the brutal and insensible Nabal did to the 
 hungry soldiers of David, " Why should I be such 
 " a fool, as to give my flesh which I have prepared for 
 " my shearers, to men that I know not from whence 
 " they be ?" But, admitting that a remnant of shame, 
 for example, in the face of a congregation like this, 
 may goad him for once to an act of beneficence, so 
 mean and inconsiderable, so unworthy of the great 
 concern would it probably be, that the idol of his 
 soul would appear more distinctly in the very relief 
 he administers, than in the barbarous insensibility 
 which habitually withholds it. Merciful and eter- 
 nal God ! what a passion ! And how much ought 
 the power and fascination of that object to be 
 dreaded which can turn the human heart into such 
 a pathless and irreclaimable desert. Irreclaimable, 
 I say ; for men inflamed with any other passion, 
 even voluptuousness, the most impure and inveterate, 
 are sometimes enlightened and reformed by the min- 
 istry of religion, or the sober and deliberate judg- 
 ment of manhood and experience. But who will 
 say that such a wretch as I have described, in the 
 extremity of selfishness; was ever corrected by any 
 
26 
 
 ordinary resource or expedient ? Who will say that 
 he is at any time vulnerable by reproach, or, I had 
 almost added, even convertible by grace! No: 
 through every stage and revolution of life he remains 
 invariably the same : or if any difference, it is only 
 this, that as he advances into the shade of a long 
 evening, he clings closer and closer to the object of 
 his idolatry: and while every other passion lies 
 dead and blasted in his heart, his desire for more 
 pelf increases with renewed eagerness, and he holds 
 by a sinking world with an agonizing grasp, till he 
 drops into the earth with the increased curses of 
 wretchedness on his head, without the tribute of a 
 tear from child or parent, or any inscription on his 
 memory ; but that he lived to counteract the distri- 
 butive justice of Providence, and died without hope 
 or title to a blessed immortality. " Seek not your 
 " own, but every man another's wealth." 
 
 That there are tew examples of such a passion I 
 will readily admit. So abominable an infatuation is 
 too far out of the line of nature ever to become exten- 
 sive in its influence. But jf avarice be rare, Mam- 
 mon has stttl numerous, very numerous adorers of 
 another description : and allow me to ask, What 
 s;reat difference does it make to the prolific order of 
 human misery, whether it be spurned by a heart of 
 adamant, or not relieved by those who live splen- 
 didly and luxuriously? Here, my friends, is, 1 
 fear, the true state of the case. Can it be denied 
 that a passion for splendid luxury begets an attach- 
 ment to money, as the means of gratifying that pas- 
 
27 
 
 sion? Who will deny that it sometimes leads to the 
 most shameful degradation of the human charac- 
 ter? Is it not well known that a man shall be at 
 once both suple and proud, haughty and creeping; 
 shall exact all homage within his own house, and 
 descend to every baseness abroad ? An imperious 
 master assuming supreme majesty among his inferiors 
 and dependents, a timid and complying slave where 
 his fortunes can be advanced ; who will play every 
 personage, take and lay down every form, adore 
 with profoundest abasement the patron he would 
 propitiate, prevent his desires, sacrifice to his ca- 
 prices, constrain his own inclinations, applaud 
 what he secretly despises, caress what he cordially 
 detests, shut up in his heart all his pleasures and 
 his pains ! in a word, shall neither think or act, or 
 speak or be silent, or love or hate, but as he is 
 moved and impelled by a vile consideration of per- 
 sonal interest ? And what is his object? merely 
 to procure the means of a little luxury, to eat and 
 drink in splendour, to drown for a moment the con- 
 sciousness of his servility and degradation. Oh, if 
 man can so utterly renounce himself, why is it not 
 for God ! The greatness of the master would 
 ennoble the service ; but to offer up so noble a vic- 
 tim, as the dignity of the human character, to so 
 contemptible a divinity as the world, to make such 
 sacrifices for a fugitive and unsubstantial object, 
 more capable, on experiment, of irritating his de- 
 sires, than of satisfying them, to be obliged to despise 
 himself, and not always even to be rewarded for the 
 humiliation! "No," says the prophet Isaias) 
 
28 
 
 " there is no judgment in his ways." Fortune, if I 
 may use the expression, places a bandage over his 
 eyes : he certainly must not see the greatness of his 
 destination, and the nobility of his origin. Imagi- 
 nation, that flattering impostor, hurries him in 
 search of happiness from chimera to chimera ; the 
 experience of every instant should cure his delusion; 
 his delusion remains in spite of experience : born to 
 the lofty ambition of an infinite good, his fears and 
 hopes, his views and designs, his profoundest medi- 
 tations are still obstinately inclosed within the little 
 spot that intervenes between his cradle and the 
 grave ! his days are all past in the midst of humili- 
 ation and care, only to die overwhelmed with riches 
 and surrounded with splendour ! Truly hath the 
 prophet spoken, " The way of peace they know 
 u not, and there is no judgment in their goings ; they 
 " have made themselves crooked paths, whosoever 
 " goeth therein shall not know peace." 
 
 But whatever may be the folly and turpitude of 
 these sacrifices that are made for a perishable inter- 
 est, my object is, more properly, to evince the too 
 universal prevalence of selfishness over the feelings 
 of humanity. Great God ! were I to draw a contrast 
 between the sums that are daily lavished in frivolous 
 and degrading gratifications, and the trifle occasion- 
 ally, perhaps annually, consecrated to the finest of 
 all human affections ; were I to say that the pas- 
 sions and vices of the day are unfathomable gulphs 
 into which money is poured without decency or limi- 
 tation : that the great object of contention among 
 
29 
 
 the rich is, who shall manifest the happiest invention 
 of expensive follies ; that play alone swallows up 
 more resources than would educate and feed all the 
 orphans of the nation, who could fairly or honestly 
 accuse me of misrepresentation? And who that 
 studies and contemplates the deplorable increase of 
 misery in these times, but must shudder at such 
 a crying misapplication of God*s bounty? Where, 
 let me conjure you to reflect, is the gratitude we 
 owe to him ? What have we that we have not re- 
 ceived? Is it to indulge this abominable prodigality 
 that he has mercifully distinguished us from those 
 multitudes that Buffer all the excesses of human 
 misery? Which of us can look round at the specta- 
 cles which every where present themselves, without 
 feeling the most ardent acknowledgment to Heaven 
 for the blessings he enjoys? There is not probably 
 one man in this vast congregation, who commands 
 not even some of the superfluities of life ; not one, 
 at least, without a sufficiency of its common comforts: 
 but how many has a gracious Providence endowed 
 with large hereditary fortunes ? how many with the 
 most abundant mediocrity ? how many enriched by 
 successful industry? how many conducted by the 
 hand to lucrative employments? how many, almost 
 fatigued, if I may say so, with increasing pros- 
 perity ? and shall it be possible that the objects of 
 such tender and special predilection cau prove 
 eminently unworthy of it ? 
 
 Nor is the unexampled, and, I may say, cruel 
 dissipation of money, in such times as the present^ 
 
 D 
 
30 
 
 confined to the upper orders of society alone. No ; 
 the example has descended : and there exists in the 
 middling orders of life a melancholy proof how 
 ruinous example is when it beams from an height. 
 The lustre of station attracting every eye brings its 
 habits in contact with the whole body of the com- 
 munity. The manners of the great are a volume of 
 established precedents, which their inferiors consult 
 to fortify themselves with a case in point for every 
 possible trespass against virtue and economy : 
 hence the industrious are led to copy an expensive 
 mode of living, which ultimately leads to bankruptcy 
 and ruin ; and hence it follows irresistibly, that, if 
 the higher orders of the community are desirous any 
 longer of being distinguished from those, whom they 
 are pleased to consider as beneath them, the only 
 way I can perceive they have left, is a prompt return 
 to a system of Christian frugality and moderation. 
 
 But, I may be told, that, notwithstanding the ex- 
 cesses I complain of, mercy is often remembered. 
 Yes, I confess it : and how should it not be remem- 
 bered ? all human beings occasionally remember 
 mercy ; the miser alone excepted. It is the doctrine 
 of all ages and people : in the darkest periods of 
 liuman reason, when vice the most atrocious was 
 seated upon altars, and honoured by the incense of 
 nations, sensibility to distress remained a sacred, 
 though solitary virtue, amidst the prevailing corrup- 
 tions of the world. In regions bound in by eternal 
 frost, uncivilized and almost inaccessible, where 
 element and sterility combine to render subsistence 
 
31 
 
 precarious, and seem to shut op the heart, relief is 
 extended to those whom age or infirmity renders 
 unable to toil. Why then should we talk of occa- 
 sionally obeying a sentiment, which in the children 
 of nature is a burning and invariable instinct? 
 Were I to tell the wildest barbarian that our bread 
 is often withheld from the hungry ; that some of us 
 are clothed in soft raiment, and wallow in all the 
 enjoyments of luxury and ease, while multitudes are 
 suffered to perish from the absolute want of aliment; 
 while poverty stalks round us ravenous and de- 
 spairing ; while mothers almost devour their young, 
 and orphans dispute offals with the brutes ; all bar- 
 barous and uncivilized as we call him, I should fill 
 his honest heart with astonishment and horror J 
 And yet we flatter ourselves we are merciful ! Oh, 
 my friends, we are too apt to give ourselves credit 
 for the practice of a virtue, of which, in fact, we as 
 yet know little but the name. I am positive when 
 I say this ; What pleasure can I have in uttering 
 any thing like reproach ? what object in view, but 
 the vindication of truth, and the good of the cause 
 with which you yourselves have entrusted me ? I 
 am, in fact, but pleading your own persons against 
 your own passions. Lay then your hands honestly 
 on your hearts, and decide the question yourselves ; 
 I desire no other umpire between us. Look into 
 the divine volume of our law; mark the rule of 
 mercy it lays down, and confess the immensity of 
 our distance from it. What does it declare us to 
 be, but trustees to the estate ? Does it not adjudge 
 every shilling we can spare from the reasonable 
 
32 
 
 support of our stations, to the widow and the orphan, 
 or charge us with their blood ? The observation, 
 you may tell me, is trite ; but is it the less awful 
 for being trite ? Is our security the greater, because 
 every effort of the human mind, and every pulse of 
 zeal have long been exhausted to warn us of our 
 danger ? Is it possible to believe in future retribu- 
 tion, and not to know some uneasy moments on this 
 head ? Is it possible then, that rational and thinking 
 beings must not occasionally tremble at the uncer- 
 tainty of life, and certainty of judgment? How many 
 might I mention, in the very first class of our com- 
 munity, who have passed to their account since I 
 last met you in the cause of these children in the 
 course of a little year ; some of whom, I could men- 
 tion several, who heard me on that day, and, for 
 aught I know, with the same tranquillity and indif- 
 ference, or the same assurance of many years, that 
 you may now ! They are gone ; and whatever their 
 eternal destiny may be, this is certain, that it may 
 be ours to consider the wealth of worlds as a happy 
 exchange for one hour of that time which is still 
 within our power. Tell me, is there a single 
 Christian before me, who, if the offer were made 
 liim at this moment, would be satisfied to stake his 
 salvation on the question of his charity ? Oh not one! 
 and yet our consciences are at rest ; we flatter 
 ourselves we are merciful. Heavens ! If there be 
 any just ground for such a thought, why has it 
 become necessary to prostitute, in some degree, the 
 most sacred of all functions for the purpose of moving 
 and inspiring us to the practice of this virtue ? Why 
 
33 
 
 has the pulpit been obliged to descend to the very 
 language of flattery, in order to extort from your 
 vanity what it is hopeless of obtaining from a prin- 
 ciple of religion ? Why is it become necessary to 
 hold out, on almost every occasion of this nature, the 
 too dangerous doctrine, " that Charity covereth a 
 multitude of sins f? and thus run the hazard of mis- 
 leading you on the subject of your own salvation, in 
 order to force you to become the instrument of sal- 
 vation to others ? Why are we obliged to use the 
 arts and colouring of profane eloquence to make 
 appeals to your passions ? To search and probe the 
 great body of human misery to the bone? To bring 
 it, I may say, before your hearts, naked and expi- 
 ring, quivering and disjointed ? To expose all its 
 miseries and horrors ? To mingle our own tears 
 with the tears of the unhappy objects that invoke 
 us? And after all, why do we often fail? Yes, 
 most deplorably fail? Why does misery often perish 
 in the horrors of famine? or, What is infinitely 
 worse, shoot up in swarms of infamy and guilt ? 
 
 " Let no man seek his own, but every man ano- 
 " ther's wealth." 
 
 Having endeavoured to the best of my power, to 
 enforce this noble and disinterested maxim of the 
 apostle, it remains to consider the case which calls 
 us to the exercise of it. But if, in considering the 
 general duty of charity, I have had to struggle with 
 a subject not a little exhausted ; what field does 
 the education of poor children present, but one 
 
54 
 
 equally barren ? The fact is, that the many eminent 
 blessings flowing to society from attention to this 
 object, the magnitude and variety of public evils 
 resulting from the neglect of it, the superior happi- 
 ness, or superior misery of these our fellow creatures, 
 according as they are early protected or abandoned, 
 are all themes so completely worn out, so ground 
 down, if I may use the expression, by repeated attri- 
 tion, that I should consider it a manifest abuse of 
 your indulgence, to trouble you with any of them. 
 That your indulgence is great, I have long had 
 reason to declare. I ought therefore to presume 
 on that indulgence but as little as possible. There 
 is a circumstance however, regarding your institu- 
 tion, which I am called on to mention ; and which 
 I d© with the more confidence and willingness, as 
 notwithstanding what my zeal for the cause I have 
 in hand, may have induced me to say in the prece- 
 ding part of this discourse, I know you are not un- 
 acquainted with it. When first I had the happiness 
 of appearing in behalf of these children, their num- 
 ber consisted of thirty or thirty-two, I am not 
 positive which : I took the liberty to remonstrate 
 on the smallness of that number ; you felt with 
 what justice, and increased it to forty ; there has 
 it stood : there, during a long term of eight years, 
 has it stood : and some of them such years ! Great 
 God ! No not a single child has been added ! As 
 we stand in the presence of the eternal God, and 
 hope for eternal life, how can this be justified? how 
 can we reconcile it with the commonest feelings of 
 humauity ? how rest on our beds in peace, when we 
 
35 
 
 reflect what it is in our power to do, and what we 
 have omitted to do? what inexpressible happiness 
 we might diffuse, what inexpressible happiness we 
 have deliberately withheld? Is it in the want of 
 means I am to seek for an apology ? No : the ques- 
 tion is mockery. We are beyond exception the 
 wealthiest parish in the metropolis ; and almost as 
 well able to maintain any given number of orphans, 
 as we are forty. What will you say when I tell 
 you, that in the parish of St. Werburgh, a parish 
 exclusively composed of tradesmen and shopkeepers, 
 there are forty children dieted, clothed, and educa- 
 ted? Who can be ignorant of it? Who can be 
 ignorant, that while God in, his inscrutable judg- 
 ment has spared you, he has afflicted thousands and 
 thousands of your brethren. Who is to learn, that 
 a long want of employment among your poor, added 
 to the numbers that have engaged, or shed their 
 blood in the public service, have caused orphans 
 and destitute children to multiply in the most horri- 
 ble proportion ? Who so uncandid as to deny this 
 fact? I tell you, did my words burn like coals of 
 fire, they could not convey the greatness of the call 
 upon you ! No, never in justice, should a minister of 
 mercy descend from this place, until he discovered 
 by your countenances and emotions, that you felt 
 the necessity, and were determined to the exercise 
 of superior mercy at this day. I say, though I 
 should continue to speak until my observations be- 
 came incoherent, and language confused, there would 
 be still a mode left of conveying the ardent wishes 
 «f my heart; you would understand at least my 
 
36 
 
 tears ; they are the true language' of in treaty ; and 
 as long as there was one pulse of feeling within me 
 for the world of perishing infants without these 
 walls, these eyes should flow to soften and conjure 
 you ! What my friends ! in the Old and New Tes- 
 tament, we see astonishing influences even of divine 
 interposition in the day of calamity! Elijah' on the 
 top of a bleak and desert mountain ; without any 
 resource but a firm confidence in his God. Was he 
 suffered to perish ? No : even the most rapacious 
 of birds was charged with the ministry of a protec- 
 ting providence, and brought him his nutriment at 
 morn and eve. And how did that vast multitude 
 which Moses conducted into the wilderness, subsist 
 during a course of forty years? The hand of divine 
 mercy spread their food upon the earth, and gave 
 them water from the body of a dry rock. Think of 
 the five thousand people that followed and invoked 
 Jesus Christ in the extremity of hunger and dis- 
 tress : did he refuse to succour them? did he spurn 
 them ? No : the Gospel tells us expressly, that his 
 heart bled for them. Where, says he, shall we find 
 bread that they may eat? A small quantity of provi- 
 sions grew, under his miraculous power, into pro- 
 fusion. The multitude was filled, their gratitude 
 was unbounded ; and they retired loudly proclaim- 
 ing him to be the Messiah that was to come ; more 
 convinced perhaps of this truth, from the uncommon 
 benignity of his character, than from the prodigy 
 Which they had witnessed. And look to the first 
 ages of Christianity, and sec the faithful make, on 
 occasions like the present, what groat and almost 
 
37 
 
 incredible sacrifices. Yes, in defect of all other re- 
 sources, we find them selling their very persons, 
 surrendering their very liberty into the hands of 
 barbarians ; and leaving the price of this first of hu- 
 man blessings behind them, for the relief of their 
 famishing brethren. What a prodigy of humanity? 
 Great God ! And shall we, whom he has fondly 
 excepted from a too general visitation, deliberately 
 refuse to vindicate his providence? Shall we turn 
 aside from such depths and abundance of human 
 misery, as perhaps never before occurred in the his- 
 tory of any people. O ! it is not by a delegated 
 voice that misery should implore ; it should plead 
 for itself; you should see it with your own eyes, hear 
 it with your own ears ; one beseeching glance from 
 a famishing child, one sigh from the breaking heart 
 of its parent, would go deeper into yours, would do 
 more with you in a moment, than my words, were 
 I speaking to you for ever ! What power have I to 
 affect you? None; comparatively at least, none. 
 When my mind represents you shocked and abashed 
 at scenes that would be new to you, comparing them 
 with your own situation, dreading, at every instant, 
 some more horrible discovery, the God of mercy, 
 spurring you to minute investigation, your nature 
 recoiling at every issue of it: in fine, putting this 
 solemn question to your souls, is it possible that the 
 deplorable beings we now see before us, separated 
 from the living and the dead, holding to the world 
 only by a sense of their sufferings, can be creatures 
 of the same God with ourselves, members of the 
 same society, our brethren in Christ Jesus? Oh then 
 
 E 
 
38 
 
 it is that humanity would triumph, then would the 
 gates of your institution fly open to remedy the una- 
 voidable consequences to the living, and quiet the 
 shades of the dead. Then would the mourning 
 widow forget the bloody day that deprived her babes 
 of a father and protector ; since they had found fa- 
 thers and protectors in you. I tell you that the 
 utmost effort of the ministry can do comparatively 
 nothing. To be roused to the height of mercy you 
 should have personal experience of what passes 
 around you ; you will then carry the impression to 
 your graves. Sermons and preachers are rapidly 
 forgotten. One single morning devoted to explore 
 the recesses of misery in this metropolis would 
 preach to you through life ; would stamp you merci- 
 ful for ever. While I press you to an increase of 
 your institution, full well do you know the necessity 
 of it. But alas ! I want the power of determining 
 you, of melting you down to the extent of my wishes. 
 God has not given it to me ; if he had, be assured I 
 would use it: I would encircle you with my little 
 clients, hang them on your garments, teach their 
 fatherless arms to entwine about your knees, their 
 innocent eyes to fasten upon yours, their untainted 
 lips to cry Mercy, for we perish ! Do you think you 
 could resist? 1 would bid you observe the force 
 of nature in the breast of a parent. Mothers crying 
 to you with extended arms to save their children. 
 No, think not of us, would they say, We are satis- 
 fied to softer. Let us expire, if you will, we shall 
 expire in peace, but save, O save our children ! 
 Many of you are parents yourselves. There would 
 
39 
 
 you see all personal considerations swallowed up 
 in the immensity of parental feeling. Peace and 
 serenity spread over the face of woe. Even death 
 itself losing its sting, at the prospect of life and hap- 
 piness being ensured to these objects which nature 
 has endeared to us above our own existence. Do 
 you think you could resist the luxury which such a 
 moment held out to you? Oh, how truly has it 
 been said, that far better is it for man to go into the 
 house of mourning than into the house of joy. 
 Think not that the earnestness with which I address 
 you is mere trick and artifice. No, no ! no such 
 thing. No, believe me, were I imploring your 
 charity for the mother that bore me, my heart and 
 soul could not be more in that cause than it is in 
 this. Suspect me not then of using any efforts, but 
 such as are, unhappily, suggested and called for by 
 the real complexion of the case. But suppose I did, 
 would it not be allowable ? Is there any fear that 
 charity may rise above the level of necessity ? Did 
 it ever approach it, even in times of comparative 
 blessedness to the present ? Was there ever a day 
 in the memory of any man who hears me when 
 there was not room for more mercy ? What greater 
 result can my most sanguine expectations present at 
 the conclusion of this hour, than your adoption of 
 ten or twenty additional orphans at most out of a 
 swarm? And give me leave to ask, whom should the 
 ministry press at this awful day, and in this cause, 
 if not you ? Where should their most zealous and 
 strenuous efforts be used to obviate the uncommon 
 overflow of wretched children if not among the 
 
40 
 
 Hch? Were I addressing an assembly of inferior 
 circumstances and condition, it would be absurd as 
 well as fruitless to talk on this subject. I might 
 indeed stir up their feeling and draw the tear from 
 their eye — but tears are not charity: misery requires 
 relief as well as pity. The natural protectors of 
 many other institutions are not equal to the support 
 of the few children they contain ; but you, my 
 friends, do possess the means of great and majestic 
 efforts towards the decrease of a public calamity, 
 and with these means the most impressible hearts. 
 You are therefore the fairest objects to assail, as you 
 also are the most likely to be subdued. Can I 
 forget that during the rigour of last winter, a collec- 
 tion for the relief of your poor made from door to 
 door, where it was easy, you know, to avoid the 
 question, even without the necessity of a personal ap- 
 pearance, produced, in the short space of three days, 
 the sum of seven hundred pounds ; an uncommon ex- 
 ertion of charity, I will say, considering that it took 
 place immediately after the contribution made for the 
 support of these infants. Not a single refusal, I un- 
 derstand, did the gentlemen who collected receive in 
 the whole course of their circuit. On the contrary, 
 every where abundance, and in many instances pro- 
 fusion. No pressing intreaty was used with you; 
 no obstinate or (as I fear you now find it) presuming 
 length of solicitation. The claims of your petitioners ' 
 Were writ! en on the face of nature, on the hoary 
 mantle of the earth, and conveyed in the bitterness 
 ef the breeze. In looking through your casements 
 you naturally reflected on the special comforts and 
 
41 
 
 blessings you enjoyed, and raised your eyes to 
 Heaven in fervent thanksgiving, while your imagina- 
 tions tenderly depicted the horrible reverse of cold, 
 nakedness, and famine. The case was clear, and 
 you were men. The delegates of misery had but to 
 come, and see, and conquer. You gave, and gave 
 cheerfully, and gave greatly. And is it from such 
 hearts 1 can dread a repulse on this occasion? Is it 
 only in the temple of the eternal God, where he 
 himself conjures you through the lips of his minister, 
 that I can suppose you to exist with impoverished 
 feelings and inferior souls ? Here, when the question 
 is not to bestow a transitory relief, but to perform an 
 act of permanent and inconceivable mercy. In that 
 word, perhaps, lies the difficulty — permanent mercy! 
 You look to future years. You dread, perhaps, a 
 permanent incumbrance. Your institution once in- 
 creased can never be diminished ! Your hearts are 
 with me, I know, as is your most intimate conviction 
 that the measure is loudly called for : but the 
 wretched prudence of the world whispers you to 
 beware of entailing on yourselves an additional and 
 immutable burthen ! Spurn the inglorious thought — 
 Let glorious Humanity triumph over the world in 
 your hearts. Familiarity will render light an addi- 
 tional burden which you know and feel to be ne- 
 cessary. 
 
SERMON II. 
 
 [For the Meath Hospital.] 
 
 St. Luke, c. xvi. v. 25. 
 
 u Son, remember that thou in thy life time receivedst 
 "thy good things, likewise Lazarus evil things ; 
 " but now he is comforted, and thou art tormen- 
 « ted" 
 
 THESE words, my brethren, form part of the 
 well known parable, of the rich man and Lazarus ; 
 which appears to me, when considered in its main 
 object, to be one of the most awful lessons of instruc- 
 tion, contained in the gospel of Christ, and perhaps 
 the most necessary at this day to press on the serious 
 reflection of Christians. For this reason, that the 
 dreadful epitaph which an immortal hand has traced 
 on the tomb of that unfortunate victim, goes unequiv- 
 ocally to denounce a complexion of life and manners 
 almost generally found compatible with perfect tran- 
 quillity of conscience. It is not the rich alone that 
 are concerned in this case, but all those who fall 
 into the desperate error of imagining that the way of 
 
44 
 
 salvation may be strewed with flowers, and an im- 
 mortal prize aspired to and obtained, without tread- 
 ing in the steps of a crucified leader : or in other 
 words without a course of active and laborious vir- 
 tue. To this strange and (indefinable misconception 
 of the religion of Christ, the case before us gives a 
 melancholy negative. For it does not present us 
 with the issue of a life of iniquity, but with the fate 
 of a man, whose only offence was that of building 
 his tabernacle here ; that of being satisfied with the 
 felicity he enjoyed on this earth ; and in the bosom 
 of sensuality and pleasure, basely forgetting that he 
 was born for a nobler purpose. This was the sole 
 eause of his reprobation ; the luxurious gratification 
 in which he was sunk, excluded equally from his 
 life, the violence of great passions, and the efforts of 
 virtue. It was exactly that state which may be 
 compared to the deceitful security of a calm on the 
 bosom of the ocean, while the insensible progress of 
 a current draws the vessel to the gulph. Not a 
 single action which the generality of the world 
 would call distantly reprehensible, does the Gospel 
 record of him, save that in the distraction of excessive 
 prosperity, he paused not to contemplate and relieve 
 the miserable object that lay in his path ; for the 
 rest, all that we can collect from his history is, that 
 he was rich, and betrayed propensities contemptible 
 but not depraved : and yet, notwithstanding away 
 of life so perfectly free from the shadow of any 
 thing heinous, we find him doomed to bear everlas- 
 ting evidence of this truth, that it is but too possible 
 to be at once completely justified by the maxims of 
 
45 
 
 the world, and wofully condemned by the rules of 
 religion. " And the rich man also died, and in hell 
 '•he lifted up his eyes." 
 
 How comes it, my brethren, that even the most 
 zealous efforts of the ministry are unequal to produce 
 profound impressions on the subject of such a des- 
 tiny ? By some unaccountable infatuation, too many 
 Christians either affect to disbelieve this point of doc- 
 trine altogether, or confess it but languidly. Like 
 the man who whistles as he traverses, at the mid- 
 night hour, the gloomy residence of the dead, in 
 order to support his sinking courage against the 
 terror of the scene, we labour, by wretched and un- 
 tenable reasoning, to bear down in our hearts the 
 rising apprehension of a terrible futurity. The fact 
 is, there is nothing so evident, that man will not 
 sport with and controvert, when he sees only through 
 the glass of his passions. We have a striking exam- 
 ple of this in the obstinate perversity of the Phari- 
 sees ; who, though intimately persuaded of the di- 
 vinity of our Lord's mission, so clearly foretold in 
 the scriptures, yet attempted to puzzle and betray 
 him by captious questions on religion and policy. 
 They were answered ; they scrutinized his morals ; 
 they found them Purity itself; they attended to every 
 word of his language, its wisdom and elevation as- 
 tonished. They asked for miracles ; the lame 
 walked, the blind saw, the graves gave up their 
 dead. Seemingly baffled at all points, passion and 
 self-interest had still a resource. They discovered, 
 that this wonder-working man was assisted by 
 
 F 
 
46 
 
 Beelzebub himself. This is the exact image of 
 those Christians, whose hearts are too corrupt, and 
 passions too much engaged with the present scene, 
 honestly to admit, or even bear the thought of a 
 principle in religion that inexorably devotes them. 
 Miserable weakness ! to act a part in one season of 
 life, and put it down at another: to pass youth in 
 the fashionable parade of despising vulgar preju- 
 dice, often in the bold and intrepid language of in- 
 credulity ; and old age in the tremblings of victo- 
 rious faith. What does it avail to defy the sacred 
 truths of religion for a few years, when our last mo- 
 ments invariably avenge them? No, my brethren, 
 the eye of the ministry I exercise is not so organized, 
 as to see nothing but defects. It is the pride and con- 
 solation of our lives, to acknowledge and do justice, 
 where we have room, to the virtue and piety of those 
 whom we are destined to instruct ; but never can it 
 be allowable to cover the gulph to which mistaken 
 notions of religion lead, with flowery and inviting 
 verdure that is to entertain the false security of our 
 fellow Christians by the concealment or softening of 
 necessary truth. We have no authority over it; 
 we owe you, according to the expression of St. 
 James in the word which we announce " an houest 
 " and faithful glass ;" we are to view witli horror 
 that temporal gospel, if I may so speak, that is in- 
 terpreted by the passions, and accommodated to the 
 delicacy and manners of Semichristians. We arc 
 to know and preach only the gospel of Jesus Christ ! 
 the gospel of justice, as well as of mercy, whose im- 
 mutability represents the essence of that being from 
 
47 
 
 whose bosom it has emanated. This is our duty. 
 It is, alas ! but too necessary there should be a tri- 
 bunal firm and immutable, to unveil and blast the 
 designs and artifices of our great and powerful enemy. 
 Let me then enquire, with that liberty which the 
 ministry allows, and that ardent anxiety, which it is 
 right to inspire for the spiritual interest of our fellow 
 Christians, what ground of confidence there can be 
 under a course of life, of which we have before us 
 this day the example and the fate ? I would appeal 
 to your own hearts, whether I should be justified ia 
 saying, that the notoriously prevailing rage of present 
 Christians, for pleasure and dissipation, for every 
 idle and luxurious pursuit, in the face of a system, 
 whose very soul is spirituality, and every line a pre- 
 cept of rigorous self-denial, ought not to produce 
 serious alarm ? " Is it not written, that we are pre- 
 u destinate only as we conform to the image of Jesus 
 " Christ." Did he content himself with leading a 
 life devoid of guilt? with rendering unto Caesar 
 what belonged to Caesar? and defying the eagle 
 eye of his enemies on the score of his morals ? did 
 he recommend in his instructions, and display in his 
 example, those qualities only which the world ad- 
 mires, untainted honour, scrupulous integrity, disin- 
 tererested generosity, fidelity in promise, humanity 
 to the poor? was this the exclusive perfection to 
 which he called us ? He, whose practice and doc- 
 trine proclaim, by a thousand organs, that the edi- 
 fice of Christian salvation can only be raised on the 
 wreck of crucified nature ; he who declared " That 
 u whosoever bearetb not his cross, and cometh after 
 
48 
 
 "hiin, cannot be his disciple; that the kingdom of 
 66 Heaven suffereth violence, that no man can serve 
 " God and the world, that those who are full and 
 u laugh now, shall one day mourn and weep, that 
 " the world shall rejoice, but that his disciples shall 
 " be sorrowful, and their sorrow turned into joy ;" — 
 in a word, he who from the first moment of his mor- 
 tal life to the final consummation of his sufferings, 
 was eminently every thing that he taught ; — this is 
 our model, without conformity to which, to the ut- 
 most of our strength, we are lost, though we should 
 be otherwise as immaculate as angels. For it is not 
 the exemption from guilt, nor even a life the most 
 irreproachable in the eyes of men, joined to the 
 possession of a thousand moral virtues, that consti- 
 tutes the Christian ; but the study of Jesus Chri st, 
 and the spirit as well as the letter of his gospel 
 copied into our practice, and idolized in our hearts. 
 But how can it be said that this truth is generally 
 felt and acknowledged ? If the Christian be bound 
 to continual warfare with all his corrupt affections, 
 and Christians will yet nourish those domestic ene- 
 mies ; if the Christian be not of this world, and 
 Christians will yet deem it compatible with their 
 hopes to be the slaves and apologists of its maxims 
 and pursuits ; if the Christian, in the midst of labo- 
 rious efforts to work out his own salvation, and pro- 
 mote that of others, yet trembles at the sentence that 
 may await him ; and Christians in the whirl of va- 
 nity and folly, without thought of that evangelical 
 perfection to which they should aspire, yet live in 
 profound peace with themselves: if the Christian 
 
49 
 
 be a traveller, who sighs at every step for the view 
 of his everlasting country, and Christians would yet 
 establish in this valley of tears their everlasting 
 abode ; if every hour aud moment of the Christian's 
 life be full before God, and Christians have little to 
 present in their lives but a miserable void ; if the 
 Christian receives afflictions as peculiar mercies, and 
 considers the highest degree of human prosperity as 
 no more than the summit of a precipice, and yet 
 Christians recoil from the one, and attach every 
 charm to the other ; in a word, if the Christian be 
 all spiritual, and we, my brethren, all material and 
 earthly ; take but one example, and you will have 
 a representation, imperfect, but not exaggerated, of 
 that system of levity and pleasure which bids fair to 
 prescribe against the Gospel. Suppose a woman, 
 at the opening of the week, taking a delightful re- 
 view of her various engagements to misemploy it, 
 passing each morniug, sometimes in the bosom of 
 vacancy at home, and in an attentive enumeration 
 of the dull and heavy hours that delay the frivolous 
 scene of her passion, but often in sauntering or roll- 
 ing through the streets, without an object but to 
 catch the attention of the equally idle of the other 
 sex, or excite the envy of her own ; afterwards sal- 
 lying forth to the revel, or empty pageantry of the 
 night, at a time when reason and constitution would, 
 in obedience to the wants of nature, demand retire- 
 ment and repose ; and often pushing this furious 
 avidity for dissipation into the blushing beams of 
 a returning sun ; miserable should chance or indis- 
 position prevent her, in a single instance, from being 
 
50 
 
 surrounded, abroad or at home, by a circle of this 
 spledid misery ; a stranger in her family, her wretch- 
 ed children, if children she has any, committed to 
 the mercy, the inattention, the example of menials, 
 without the benefit of a mothers tenderness, in- 
 struction and care ; and this blessed week, which is 
 the history of every other, only redeemed by occa- 
 sionally offering to God the wanderings of a mind 
 stupified and corrupted by the never-ending worship 
 of the world ! Is this Christianity, or is it an exag- 
 gerated picture of the manners that reign ? I appeal 
 to your own souls. What do we behold from the 
 commencement of one season of the year to the close 
 of it, but multitudinous counterparts of such a life ? 
 The young and the old, the matron and the girl, the 
 man and the boy, confounded in the same chace of 
 pleasure, in all its despicable varieties and ruinous 
 extravagance? But what were I to speak of the 
 prevailing indecency, the growing nakedness of fe- 
 male attire? Is it possible for the ministry to be 
 silent, when purity of Ueart (which I am willing to 
 suppose) is made consistent with the very flag and 
 dress of an Impure? God forbid I should doubt that 
 such infinitely unchristian departure from the strict- 
 ness of our rule did not proceed rather from the ob- 
 livion or misconception, than the secret or open 
 contempt of it. And yet they who judge with more 
 severity might say, and say with appearance of jus- 
 tice, that though vice be recoiled from in practice, out- 
 ward circumstances, when glaring, may afford more 
 than a presumption, that it has at least a place in 
 the will; and weak and imperceptible, alas, we 
 
51 
 
 know, is the line of defence between strength of in- 
 clination, and the misfortune of guilt ! 
 
 Suffer the word of exhortation, my friends. In 
 whatever we say, we mean no personal or malignant 
 application. Our shafts are cast at random, we are 
 ignorant where they may wound. Our representa- 
 tions are general ; it is yourselves, my brethren, 
 that either individually feel, or transfer the likeness 
 where your experience sees it to be clear. Suffer 
 the word of exhortation. Let this unhappy offspring 
 of ever-innovating fashion, for no more I am per- 
 suaded it is, let it no longer feast the oyes of the 
 libertine, and afford matter of reproach to his tongue. 
 Paradoxical as this double effect may appear, it is 
 founded in positive experience. Much do women 
 deceive themselves, if they imagine, that their de- 
 viations from strict modesty and reserve can be 
 arraigned only from the pulpit of God, or by the 
 voice of their austerer fellow Christians. The very 
 men who surround them in the assemblies of vanity, 
 and pour into their ears the ill-fascinating incense of 
 flattery, are often, when in the society of each other, 
 their cruellest censors : and will remember and 
 name with bitter accuracy, every striking example 
 of the error I deplore ; and with refined malignity 
 make appearance a pretext for the abominable liber- 
 ty of sporting with unsullied reputations. This is 
 the fate of woman ! Her worst enemies are often 
 they whom she most studies to please ; as her best 
 friends are certainly they who watch over her present 
 and eternal interests ; and at the hazard of displeas- 
 
52 
 
 ing, fear not to call her to the only true glory of her 
 character. In the name of a pure religion, and its 
 eternal Author, I call upon parents neither to coun- 
 tenance this evil by their example ; or, contrary to 
 the solemn reproach of conscience, criminally con- 
 nive at it in their children. They cannot be igno- 
 rant, that every vice is completed, by not providing 
 against its insensible advance at first. They cannot 
 be ignorant, that dreadful calamity to female inno- 
 cence has often ensued, not because it is too weak 
 to resist the decided tempter ; but because it per- 
 ceived not the gradations that beguiled it to the pre- 
 cipice. They cannot be ignorant of the solemn 
 account they have to render. They cannot be ig- 
 norant, that Jesus Christ is the parent of their chil- 
 dren, much more than themselves ; that he has 
 redeemed them with his blood ; marked them in the 
 cradle with a seal of the new covenant, and entrusted 
 them to their vigilance and protection ; as the 
 daughter of Pharaoh did the child she had saved, to 
 the mother of Moses ; " Take and nurse this child 
 " for me, and I will give thee thy wages." He will 
 demand those precious deposits ; and depend upon 
 it, if there be an indisputable truth under Heaven, 
 it is this, that if our Children are made victims to a 
 divinity to whom we sacrifice their salvation ; though 
 we otherwise appear before God with all accumulated 
 virtues, our wages will be blood for blood, eternity 
 for eternity ! Of this enough. 
 
 But it may be said, is the Gospel then that austere 
 and gloomy system, that commands us to renounce 
 
53 
 
 enjoyments naturally arising from social intercourse ? 
 No, my brethren, religion, being founded on benevo- 
 lence, cannot be the enemy to any gratification that 
 innocently contributes to the happiness of life. St. 
 Paul expressly directs Christians, to rejoice with 
 those that rejoice, as well as weep with them that 
 weep ; and Jesus Christ himself we know was seated 
 at the table of the Pharisee, and sanctified by his 
 presence the marriage feast of Cana. But we are 
 not to confound what our rule clearly admits, with 
 what the temper of the world would suppose it to 
 admit. Though it may in a degree lead to repeti- 
 tion, I will submit the difference in a word. Never 
 to appear in society but with a view to improvement 
 and edification : never to keep up a single acquaint- 
 ance the most distantly dangerous to our spiritual 
 intercourse; never to cultivate friends, or even 
 relatives that are not religious and virtuous ; never 
 to omit rendering, in the particular duties of our 
 station, the means of salvation to ourselves and 
 others. This is the Gospel, — To neglect occupa- 
 tions the most sacred and important ; to run indis- 
 creetly, and without choice, into every circle that 
 W 7 ill admit us; to consume our precious time in idle 
 visits and ceremonials ; to live only in the confusion 
 of night and day, amidst laborious amusements, that 
 always end in inevitable disgust, that capital enemy, 
 which we are eternally banishing, and eternally 
 calling up ; this is the World. Inviolably to respect 
 our superfluities as the patrimony of the poor ; to be 
 distinguished in high station, neither by too much 
 magnificence or too much simplicity, to regulate our 
 
 G 
 
54 
 
 train and expense invariably below our rank and 
 revenues : to think more of decency than of lustre 
 and show ; this is the Gospel. To be swayed in 
 in those things, only by established fashion, however 
 wild, extravagant and contemptible ; to labour who 
 shall outdo the other in excessive and luxurious enter- 
 tainments ; to starve a family for a month in order 
 to glitter for a night ; to exhibit with study and 
 affectation, brilliant, and expensive baubles on the 
 person, and the person without attire ; and unthink- 
 ingly sacrifice to all vanity, what our hearts incline 
 us to devote to a more sacred purpose ; this is the 
 World. To take part in conversations only in 
 which modesty has never to blush, in which reason 
 lias every thing to gain, and the sacred cause of re- 
 ligion and morality finds edification and support £ 
 this is the Gospel. To relish the unintellible jargon* 
 of mixed and tumultuous assemblies ; to endeavour 
 in all conversations, rather to shine than to instruct ; 
 to high season it with the salt of sarcasm, or slander; 
 delicately and artificially to envelope the poison of 
 impurity and corruption ; to be silent from self-inter- 
 est or complaisance, when religion is reviled by the 
 impious and libertine ; perhaps, infamously join in 
 the abuse of what we inwardly revere ; this is the 
 World. Never to engage in play, but on a scale the 
 most moderate, or consider that, or any other allow- 
 able relaxation, but as the means of returning with 
 recruited spirits to the performance of every social* 
 public, and domestic duty ; this is the Gospel. To 
 render play an occupation and a traffic ; a blind 
 ungovernable passion, that lays us open to the arts 
 
55 
 
 and conspiracies of the more trained in the profession j 
 that fills the soul with base and malignant affections, 
 the feelings of avarice, the bitterness of envy ; the 
 rage that boils at loss and disappointment ; nightly 
 to grope for an object that engrosses every reflection 
 of the mind, and every desire of the heart; that 
 every instant, under the capricious empire of chance, 
 produces miserable shiftings of ecstacy and pain, 
 and, under the law of polite manners, commands the 
 torment of outward ease, and countenance serene, 
 when the storm is most violent and afflicting within ; 
 this is the World. This is one of those precious 
 pursuits to which it eagerly recurs for enjoyment, 
 and would reconcile with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 
 It is unnecessary to pursue the contrast any further. 
 
 Thank God we have many Christians in the midst 
 of us, whose practice fully vindicates and gloriously 
 reflects the rule as I have laid it down. We have 
 them in the highest departments of life : we have 
 them in the humble bosom of mediocrity. The ex- 
 ample they display, has been the example of true 
 Christians in all times and ages, all of whom, whe- 
 ther in elevation or obscurity, in the cares and dis- 
 traction of public, or the leisure and repose of a 
 private station, have worked out their salvation, by 
 bearing their cross, and turning aside from the Baby- 
 lon of worldly pleasure ; and persuaded I am, that 
 whatever our passions may suggest, and force us to 
 pursue, our convictions are all, with the propriety 
 and restraint of the rule. What indulgence, then, 
 my brethren, can we look for, from the Sovereign 
 
56 
 
 and terrible Searcher of hearts, when the moment we 
 breathe from unnatural repletion, that is the moment 
 we are allowed to think, we surely condemn our- 
 selves. Thus, my brethren, shall we one day be 
 judged. Our convictions, our remorse, will be oppo- 
 sed to our actions ; our language to our secret senti- 
 ments ; our secret sentiments to our public practice; 
 ourselves to ourselves; and our souls before the 
 tribunal of God, be at once the criminal and the 
 witness against us. These are truths that ought to 
 impress, and will, when the brilliant veil that ob- 
 structs the full view of our errors is torn away ; 
 though, probably, too late. Let us remember the 
 answer which Abraham made to the victim in my 
 text, when he implored Lazarus to convey to his five 
 brethren a solemn warning from his fate ! No ; 
 " They have Moses aud the prophets, let them hear 
 u them ; for if they hear them not, neither will they 
 u be persuaded though one rose from the dead!" 
 
 Having shown, from the awful example before us, 
 and the general doctrine of the Gospel, that a life of 
 pleasure and indulgence, however free from vice or 
 immorality, cannot accord witli the hope of salva- 
 tion ; it would remain naturally to enquire what 
 superiority we have over the subject of our parable, 
 on the point of attention to the calamities of our 
 fellow-creatures. Though it be clear, that our 
 blessed Lord did not intend to submit, in the ne- 
 glected case of Lazarus, an instance of deliberate 
 inhumanity, but a melancholy evidence, that, when 
 the soul is immersed in the enjoyments of sense. 
 
57 
 
 every duty whatsoever is easily overlooked ; there is 
 yet something so shocking in the exhibited contrast 
 of a rich and gross sensualist, breathing thick at the 
 table of luxurious vanity, and a famishing wretch, 
 panting for its very cruinbs, that we involuntarily 
 turn all our thoughts to that inscrutable distinction 
 which God has made in the fortunes of his crea- 
 tures, and the consequent most sacred obligation of 
 mercy. But wide and instructive as this field is, I 
 have already taken up too large a portion of your 
 time to pursue it, and therefore pass to the object of 
 the day. 
 
 It cannot be necessary at this day to descant, in 
 detail, on the merits of the institution for the support 
 of which we are met. My predecessor in this func- 
 tion has for a course of years, without interruption, 
 and with a degree of pathos rarely given to any 
 man, submitted the result of that minute and labo- 
 rious investigation, which uothing but the utmost 
 degree of interest could have inspired. What then, 
 my brethren, can remain for me ? Is it to repeat 
 that the divine example of Jesus Christ is embodied 
 in a human institution? Healing diseases, giving 
 sight to the blind ? almost animation to the grave ? 
 binding up every wound, meeting every sad and 
 cruel disaster? and, like the God it represents, 
 dismissing in peace to the bosom of transported 
 families, the staff of their existence, and source of 
 all their joys and comforts. Is it to repeat, that, in 
 this awful repository of divine visitation, multiplied 
 cases every hour occur, that no human feeling can 
 
witness without horror 5 which are treated with 
 extraordinary skill ; nursed with extraordinary ten- 
 derness; soothed under the torments of frightful 
 operations hy the lips of constitutional humanity ; 
 and that for every example of fatality that occurs, 
 there are thousands of almost miraculous recoveries ? 
 Is it to repeat the noble and disinterested assiduity 
 of both faculties, who fly at all hours, by night and 
 by day, at the call of their afflicted fellow- creatures, 
 without fee or reward, and often generously supply 
 aid and comforts from their private resources, which 
 the means of this institution are inadequate to afford? 
 Is it to repeat, that this godlike temple of life and 
 health is infinite in its grasp of salvation, taking in 
 the wide range of disease and casualty, in this exten- 
 sive county, and happily rearing its head in a quar- 
 ter of the metropolis, where the existence of misery 
 is as vast as it is lamentable, and almost every lurk- 
 ing place offers hourly, in one way or another, some 
 spectacle to its mercy ? Is it, in fine, to repeat that 
 the number it annually succours, or more properly 
 saves, stands at more than fifteen thousand ! and, 
 of course, when we look at the period of its exist- 
 ence, which is more than fifty years, must nearly 
 exceed all credibility. These are the merits of this 
 institution. In a word, show me any thing of the 
 same nature, in the annals of humanity, to surpass, 
 or even equal it. So invincible is the conviction that 
 has taken place, of its unparalleled service to the 
 wretchedness of this metropolis and county, that I 
 could point out several individuals (at this moment 
 in my view) too cool and circumspect, to be moved 
 
59 
 
 in this, or any other cause, without full evidence of 
 its merits, but not the less humane, because thus cir- 
 cumspect, who are known peculiarly to come for- 
 ward, aud contribute largely on this day, and who, I 
 am persuaded, would equally do so, though not a 
 word were uttered in recommendation of the object. 
 Let me for a moment suppose it dissolved, or but 
 feebly supported, what would be the consequence ? 
 I defy any Christian, who has an atom of religion 
 or humanity, to think of it without shuddering: 
 why ? The impoverished and sequestered parts of 
 the city would present more than the bloody and 
 terrific image of a neglected field of battle : the 
 moans of the expiring, the agonies of the maimed and 
 mutilated, and your living brethren putrifying unto 
 death, in the ray of that sun that lights you every 
 day, to happiness and enjoyment. Do you think I 
 frame this as the mere language of appeal to your 
 feelings ? No, as God liveth, I mean no more than 
 the simple exposition of a case, which I conceive to 
 be as much beyond description, as it would be una- 
 voidable. But it is impossible for me to produce 
 suitable impressions. It is the misfortune of the 
 ministry, to want on these occasions what nothing 
 can supply, an appeal to the living evidence. It 
 would be necessary to transport an assembly of this 
 nature to the retreats of suffering humanity. It is 
 there that a preacher might easily be eloquent, and 
 sure to impress. It is there that, free from all re- 
 straint, without fear of being charged with exagge- 
 ration, he might make you behold, in all its dreadful 
 variety, the consequence of wanting, or not suffiU 
 
60 
 
 ciently supporting, an institution of this nature. 
 There the first movement of our souls, would be 
 fixed astonishment ; to this would succeed the up- 
 lifted eye of ardent thanksgiving for the advantages 
 of our condition ; to this the luxurious sensation of 
 ineffable pity : to this, not the cold and hesitating 
 calculation, what we shall bestow, but the rapid, 
 and undeliberating profusion of mercy. We would 
 retire, my brethren, tortured, happy, improved for 
 ever. All calamity whatever, when retired from 
 observation, is doubly affecting. We conceive a 
 kind of mitigation attached even to the fruitless God 
 help you, of a gaping world ; but in the dreary 
 nakedness of the dismal recess, every dire visitation 
 wears a face of sublime horror. Though he who 
 on the unmade bed of torture, whether from disease 
 or accident, languishes and perishes unassisted and 
 unknown, be eminently wretched ; yet the richest, 
 with all the aids they can receive from the skill of 
 an attentive faculty, and the countless comforts which 
 affluence can supply, still experience the extremities 
 of disease to' be intolerable, and often look to death 
 as a blessing. Great God ! what then must the case 
 be, where man, in the same situation, seems equally 
 abandoned, by heaven and earth ? where famine is 
 the consequence of arrested toil? where families 
 in consternation, look round, without hope, or pros- 
 pect of relief? where the very covering of the dying 
 victim is often sent by his afflicted heart to support 
 their existence ? where the very source of tears is 
 dried up? where deep despair, extorting the lan- 
 guage of imprecation against Providence, presents 
 
61 
 
 the horrible combat between religion and nature ? 
 O Charity ! thou principle of great souls ! how glo- 
 rious are thy works ! Thou createst a new world in 
 the moral and physical order. Thou preventest a 
 deluge of indigence ! -Thou preventest a deluge of 
 vice ! Thou throwest an immortal guard round virgin 
 purity ! Thou recallest not the dead, but thou givest 
 life, as on this day, life and health to the diseased 
 and the expiring ! And Oh ! how extraordinary, my 
 brethren, is the goodness of God, to have attached 
 merit to a virtue, which carries with it here below, 
 around us and within us, its own inexpressible 
 reward ! 
 
 My brethren, I have laid before you, as concisely 
 as I could, the merits of the object, and the conse- 
 quence that would follow from the want or even the 
 neglect of it. I need not inform you that its only 
 resource is one hundred pounds annually from Par- 
 liament, as the general Hospital of this County, ad- 
 ded to the result of this day : all that it has hitherto 
 been able to accomplish, is to provide thirty beds, 
 for the more desperate cases, though the house 
 offers capacity for more than seventy. If your nature 
 be not changed, you will give more than a sigh to 
 this shocking circumstance. And yet, notwithstand- 
 ing a scale so miserably contracted, the number of 
 intern patients has amounted in the course of ten 
 years to two thousand two hundred and nineteen, 
 which added to the externs in the same time, makes 
 a whole of one hundred forty-eight thousand two 
 hundred and nineteen, which is about fifteen thon 
 
 n 
 
62 
 
 sand per year. I do not know what this day has 
 been destined, in the designs of God, to present ; 
 but this I know, that if it be not great, it cannot be 
 for want of solemn conviction on this point. I am 
 not discouraged by the language I hear ; — That this 
 appeal came too late ; that the town is swept by the 
 multiplicity of calls upon it ; that so many wealthy 
 and benevolent characters, are absent in another 
 country ; — it is madness to think, that contributions 
 on these occasions can maintain their past glorious 
 level. It is, however, that madness which I confess 
 I am afflicted with. It has not hitherto been desti- 
 tute of reason. Some seasons are now elapsed, 
 since those melancholy forebodings have been on the 
 wing in every circle. Yet it has pleased him, who 
 u out of these stones, could raise children unto 
 " Abraham ;" it has pleased him, in the face of all 
 obstacles, to support his work. What does the event 
 of mercy, still evidently triumphant, prove, but that 
 we know not ourselves ? I am, therefore, without 
 fear. I look to you, my brethren, with immoveable 
 confidence. Support your convictions, for convinced 
 you are, of the unspeakable merits of the case. 1 
 ask no more. To the humblest, the least gifted in- 
 dividual in this place, I look, as well as to the most 
 prosperous, for a double effort on this day. Bleed- 
 ing, tender humanity is confined to no order. Many 
 a man, as I once before said, standing in the aisle of 
 the church, unnoticed, and unknown, has given evi- 
 dence of this truth, that will shine in the book of 
 life for ever. Often is a diamond of the purest water, 
 covered with an encrustation of the coarsest matter. 
 
63 
 
 Often bave the burning and ungovernable feelings of. 
 compassion even mastered the instinct of self preser- 
 vation ; — witness the widow of Zarepta, from whom 
 the prophet of the Lord was directed to seek shelter 
 and support, in a season of famine ; from her whose 
 whole property, under the sun, was " an handful of 
 " meal in a barrel, and a drop of oil in a cruse," and 
 yet to him, at the first aspeo* of his' extraordinary 
 misery, did she sacrifice, without a moment's hesi- 
 tation, the last morsel of herself and child. Let a 
 spark of this divine impulse be known in this case 
 to all around me ; and all shall find, like her, a ten- 
 der and attentive Providence watching over their 
 concerns ; covering them, as it did the fleece of 
 Gideon, with the dew of heaven, and giving to each, 
 an increase of an hundred fold. One word more, my 
 brethren. I did that in the first part of this discourse 
 which I conceived to be most inviolably my duty 
 towards God. Oh ! let not the freedom of speech I 
 have used, be visited in any instance on the object 
 for which I plead. Deal with me out of this place 
 as you please, but remember, here, that I am the 
 advocate of unparalleled calamity : remember also, 
 that if I have been so unfortunate as to give offence 
 to any, it is but the surer indication I was right. 
 
 Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God 
 the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, for ever 
 and ever ! Amen. 
 
SERMON III. 
 
 Proverbs, xxxi. 30. 
 
 il woman that feareth the IatH; ehe shall be 
 praised. 
 
 THE language of the text speaks, in emphatic 
 terms, the nature and the glory of your work. You 
 are assembled to rescue the greatest mass of female 
 innocence, that ever was offered in this nation to 
 public mercy, in any one institution, from conse- 
 quences, which I shall dwell on in the sequel ; and 
 render them what virtuous and Christian women 
 have ever been found, the most powerful instruments 
 of good in the hands of God. The personal happi- 
 ness and salvation of these children, is the least of 
 the benefits that arise from your present bounty. 
 You plant in their education, the oak, round which 
 the ivy twines and aspires ; that is, the example 
 which irresistibly attracts, nay, commands, in the 
 great cause of virtue and religion. That women ar* 
 
66 
 
 susceptible of stronger and more lasting impressions 
 than men, we see, by the almost invariable constancy 
 and fidelity of their attachments — even the slight 
 tincture of the serious, which their fashionable edu- 
 cation imparts, is seldom obliterated by all the hurry 
 and confusion of a life of gaiety and pleasure. You 
 will rarely, perkaps never, see a woman, to whom 
 any idea of religion has been communicated, entirely 
 abandon a compliance with any of its external duties ; 
 or insult its principles, by the language of profane- 
 ness and contempt. There is a fervor in the soil of 
 a female heart, which never misses sending up what 
 it receives, be the culture ever so scanty; when 
 abundant, the return is invariably glorious. We 
 Lave numberless examples of women in the Holy 
 Writings, and in every period of Christianity, that 
 fill us with astonishment, at the sacred sublimity 
 and heroism of their characters — and the history of 
 the Pagan world, particularly the austere and vir- 
 tuous days of the Grecian and Roman common- 
 wealths, aiford likewise the most illustrious proofs 
 that the sex, when properly directed, can be more 
 than the rival of man, in every action, every sacri- 
 fice that goes to dignify and exalt the human name. 
 From the very appearance of female depravity, we 
 recoil, as from something shocking and annatural ; 
 while men the most immoral and abandoned are 
 always overawed, and not unfrequently reformed, by 
 the contemplation of female excellence. Even the 
 most profligate libertines approach it, with a secret 
 reverence which they cannot account for, and are 
 equally unable to repress. Wonderful, that a crea- 
 
67 
 
 hire naturally so defenceless, so weak in conforma- 
 tion, so timid in her ways, so unaspiring in her 
 pursuits, so humble in her destination ; born, I may 
 say, to serve ; should yet, under certain circumstan- 
 ces, possess an empire that nothing can resist, that 
 renders her very silence eloquence, her entreaties 
 law, nay, her presence alone superior to the most 
 awful considerations, in the control of licentious- 
 ness and vice. Yet so it is, such has universal 
 experience declared to be the ascendancy of virtue 
 and religion in woman. And here, my brethren, 
 may I not be allowed to lament the little benefit de- 
 rived from this signal and blessed ^distinction. Is 
 the education too generally conferred on the better 
 orders of women of a nature to elicit such fruits ? 
 or is it such as even to qualify them for rational and 
 improved intercourse with the other sex ? Would 
 not one think, from the shameful neglect of storing 
 their minds even with the common elements of 
 knowledge, that they were ordained by God and 
 nature to be no more than mere sportive toys, or 
 simple instruments of increase? How few do we 
 find who possess any more information on the com- 
 monest subjects, than what a sense of their own 
 degradation has enabled them confusedly to pick up, 
 or chance has infused from habits of society with the 
 other sex? Why, in the name of justice, should 
 the native powers and capacity of women, remain so 
 glaringly uncultivated, when all experience has pro- 
 ved them to be such as to admit their aspiring to, 
 and obtaining the most brilliant degree of mental 
 acquirements ? Why should they be cut off from the 
 
68 
 
 noblest enjoyment .next to that of virtue, which a 
 human creature can know? The enjoyment that 
 flows from the pursuits and inquiries of an enlight- 
 ened and exercised mind. When I behold a beau- 
 tiful form, and reflect that underneath so enchanting 
 an appearance there is probably added nothing but 
 what goes to inspire pity or contempt ; I am doubly 
 shocked at the cruelty of her destiny, and consider 
 the injustice done her as beyond all human atone- 
 ment. 
 
 If men would only reflect on what they lose, in 
 the neglected cultivation of the female intellect, it is 
 impossible, methinks, but they should determine on 
 more attention to a circumstance so capable of af- 
 fording the most delightful resource in all intervals 
 of duty or business. The largest portion of our 
 days is passed in the society of women ; to what a 
 melancholy condition therefore must a man be re- 
 duced, if either constrained to lay the language of 
 his reason aside, or feed on himself in solitary rumi- 
 nation ! But the greatest misfortune is, ' that women 
 are not only trained in a way humiliating to their 
 understandings, but too generally incompatible with 
 the Christian character. I am sure I am not incli- 
 ned to misrepresent, nor do I wish to go into par- 
 ticulars ; but if we are to judge by established 
 manners, to what must their first breathings have 
 been directed, but to the art of coming as close to 
 propriety as reputation will admit ; reconciling every 
 thing with religion, which religion does not formally 
 denounce. What can speak the most distant con- 
 
69 
 
 fidence and security to the soul of a Christian under 
 such a course ? Is it tiiat the world, in the midst 
 of which they live, too generally conforms to it ? Is 
 it that persons strictly irreproachable do the same ? 
 But it ought to he reflected, that before the manners 
 of Christians began to degenerate, things that are 
 now consecrated by usage, were then monstrous 
 singularities. It ought to be considered that we 
 shall be judged oy the Gospel, and not by. received 
 practice ; that whatever has arisen merely from the 
 decay of fervor and piety, are abuses to be deplored, 
 not models to be followed ; in a word, that the life 
 of a Christian is too revolting to nature ever to be- 
 come the taste of the greater number. Suppose I 
 were to tell you from this place, that the Gospel 
 was not in fact so severe a system as it is generally 
 represented ; that to idolize the world, and acquit 
 ourselves to God were things perfectly reconcileable; 
 that there was not the least harm in the breathless 
 pursuit of pleasure, which reason alone pronounces 
 to be unworthy of thinking beings ; that Christians 
 were at full liberty to rack their invention in order 
 to diversify and give zest to an eternal round of emp- 
 tiness and folly; that provided they dispense charity 
 with one hand, they may lavish with the other as 
 much as they please; that religion admitted such 
 compensation ; that all they hear about a simple, 
 frugal, and retired life, strict attention to domestic 
 duties, perfect modesty of mien and apparel ; a life 
 of prayer, penitence, and self denial, cannot, if they 
 mean any thing at all, be applicable to persons, 
 whose condition, from long prescription, entitles 
 
 I 
 
70 
 
 tliem to more latitude. What opinion would you 
 entertain of this new and very convenient doctrine ? 
 Would you consider the man who uttered it, worthy 
 of respect, and better instructed than others in the 
 science of salvation ? No, my brethren, you would 
 either openly deride his ignorance, or retire with 
 precipitation and horror, from so shocking a profa- 
 nation of his sacred function. What are we then, 
 my brethren, I may say, but the hypocritical slaves 
 of the world and its pleasures, when we justify 
 aloud, what we condemn in secret ! And how con- 
 founding will that judgment be, which condemns us 
 on the evidence of our own hearts ! Were it possibk 
 for Christians to be calm in the course I have descri- 
 bed, free as it is from any thing gross and immoral, 
 let them hear the express words of Jesus Christ on 
 the subject " no man can serve two masters." H Ye 
 u cannot serve God and Mammon." " Woe unto 
 " you that are full now, for ye shall hunger ! Woe 
 u unto you that laugh now, for ye shall mourn and 
 u weep." " Verily I say unto you the world shall 
 " rejoice, but ye shall be sorrowful, and your sorrow 
 "shall be turned into joy." This, my brethren, is 
 the Gospel. What exception appears on the face 
 of it, in favour of any description of Christians? 
 No, the more elevated we are, the greater our pros- 
 perity, the more absolutely indispensible an adhe- 
 rence to the letter of our profession, the more 
 incessant should our vigilance be ; the more decla- 
 red and lively our faith, the more fervent and con- 
 tinued our prayer ; the more heroic our self denial, 
 the more exalted every virtue. Because, our dan- 
 
n 
 
 ger is much greater, and more awful than it would 
 be in an obscurer station. Because, it is the nature 
 of prosperity to corrupt, to bind us faster to the 
 world, to furnish occasions of vice at every step, to 
 favour and facilitate the indulgence of evil passions; 
 to render abortive all good desires, and extinguish in 
 the soul, all aspiring to a better state, all recollection 
 of God and futurity. Above all, because it is a state 
 which Jesus Christ in plain terms has pronounced 
 to be nearly incompatible with salvation. 
 
 Were the world to judge us, we might look for 
 the privilege of fancy, of a soft and convenient way. 
 But the world itself will be judged ; and he that will 
 judge it, and us too, will not distinguish Christians 
 by their riches, or their rank, but by their merits or 
 demerits, their virtues, or their crimes. Here, will 
 he say, is my law. I delivered it, without an iota 
 of variation, to the mighty and the mean. I inquire 
 not, therefore, what you are ; but how you have 
 conformed to it ; how you have lived ; what use 
 have you made of the talent I confided to you? 
 These will be, my brethren, the terrible questions 
 addressed to all. I leave the inference to yourselves ; 
 and return, observing only, that no infatuation can 
 be more deplorable, either with respect to our eternal 
 interest, or even the interest of this world, than that 
 which leads us to ruin, with our eyes open. 
 
 If the sex, in their intercourse, be of the highest 
 importance to the moral and religious state of society, 
 they are still more so in their domestic relations. 
 
72 
 
 What a public blessing, what an instrument of the 
 most exalted good is a virtuous Christian mother ? 
 It would require a far other pen than mine to trace 
 the merits of such a character. How many, perhaps, 
 who now hear me, feel that they owe to it all the 
 virtue and piety that adorns them ; or may recollect 
 at this moment, some saint in heaven, that brought 
 them into light to labour for their happiness, tempo- 
 ral and eternal ! No one can be ignorant of the 
 irresistible influence which such a mother possesses, 
 in forming the hearts of her children, at a season 
 when nature takes in lesson and example at every 
 pore. Confined by duty and inclination within the 
 walls of her own house, every hour of her life be- 
 comes an hour of instruction ; every feature of her 
 conduct a transplanted virtue. Methinks, I behold 
 her encircled by her beloved charge, like a being 
 more than human, to which every mind is bent, and 
 every eye directed ; the eager simplicity of infancy 
 inhaling from her lips the sacred truths of religion, 
 in adapted phrase and familiar story; the whole 
 rule of their moral and religious duties simplified for 
 easier infusion. The countenance of this fond and 
 anxious parent, all beaming with delight and love, 
 and her eye raised occasionally to heaven in fervent 
 supplication Tor a blessing on her work. O! what a 
 glorious part does such a woman act on the great 
 theatre of humanity ; and how much is the mortal 
 to be pitied, who is not struck with the image of such 
 excellence ! When I look to its consequences direct 
 and remote, I see the plants she has raised and 
 cultivated spreading through the community with 
 
73 
 
 the richest increase of fruit. I see her diffusing 
 happiness and virtue through a great portion of the 
 human race. I can fancy generations yet unborn 
 rising to prove and to hail her worth. I adore 
 that God who can destine a single human creature 
 to be the stem of sueli extended and incalculable 
 benefit to the world. It is scarce possible for the 
 human mind to offer an argument more powerful in 
 support of an institution like this, to those whose 
 views are christian and public. 
 
 In the character of wife we find a virtuous woman 
 equally existing for the happiest purposes. Mar- 
 riage, 'tis true, is often a state in which neither of 
 the parties is much the better for coming together. 
 When all study and consideration of their worth is 
 put out of the question in the motives that bring on 
 the connexion, the result must generally be, and 
 naturally is, both unfavourable to their felicity and 
 their manners. Judge what a miserable business 
 it is that terminates at best, after a short period, in 
 a compromise to detest each other, with ceremony 
 and politeness, and pursue their respective way of 
 folly or depravity, according to their fancy ; a case 
 where terms of endearment are used that the heart 
 disavows, and a mask of union and affection put on 
 in the vain hope of blindfolding the world. Yet 
 such, I fear, is the fate of many, many a pair ; and 
 must ever be so where the only inducement to the 
 state is passion, interest, or the pride of alliance. 
 Nothing however is more true than what the Apostle 
 has asserted, that a Christian wife is the salvation 
 
74 
 
 uf ber husband. For surely, if any thing can have 
 power to wean a man from evil, it is the living 
 image of all that is perfect, constantly before his 
 eyes, in the person whom, next to God, he is forced 
 to reverence and respect ; and who, next to God, he 
 must be assured, has his present and future felicity 
 most at heart ; who joins to the influence of her 
 example, the most assiduous attention to please ; 
 who knows, from the experience of every hour, 
 where his errors and vices may be assailed with any 
 prospect of success ; who is instructed, by the close 
 study of his disposition, when to speak, and when to 
 be silent ; who watches and distinguishes that gleam 
 of reflection which no eye can perceive but her own ; 
 who can fascinate by the mildness and humility of 
 her manner, at the moment she expostulates and 
 reproves ; who receives him with smiles and kind- 
 ness, even when conscience smites him the most with 
 a sense of his neglect and unworthiness ; who has 
 always a resource at hand in big difficulties, and 
 tender apologies to reprieve him from himself: and 
 a gracious presentiment ever on her lips, that the 
 day will come, when he will know how to value the 
 advantages of good conduct, and the unruffled sere- 
 nity of virtue. Yes, my brethren, the ministry of 
 such a woman is daily found to work the reformation 
 of our sex, when all other resources fail ; when 
 neither misfortune, nor shame, nor the counsels of 
 friendship, nor the considerations of Hell nor Heaven 
 have any more effect than the whistling of the 
 elements. Merciful God ! how zealously should 
 we therefore labour to diffuse such characters through 
 
75 
 
 the people ! And how little perhaps do we reflect, 
 when we turn to these orphans, to what sacred, 
 what glorious ends they are destined ! 
 
 I have done with this view of my subject. You 
 have seen as clearly, and perhaps as forcibly as 
 could be expected, from a mind exhausted by con- 
 tinual efforts in this way, the fruits resulting from a 
 virtuous and Christian sex ; consequently, part of 
 the merit of this great institution. Let me now pro- 
 ceed to consider it as a security to female innocence, 
 against the extremities of misery and vice. How 
 often, my brethren, have I laid before you the me- 
 lancholy side of this subject ! How often described, 
 in every colour which imagination could supply, 
 that immense variety of wretchedness, to which such 
 objects as these would be more than exposed, with- 
 out the protection you afford them ! How often 
 endeavoured to excite emulation, in support of theii 
 cause, by long and separate appeals to the male and 
 female part of my hearers ! Is it not time to reflect, 
 that all such grounds, however powerful in moving 
 the springs of our compassion, become puerile, and 
 even disgusting, when too repeatedly insisted on ? 
 Is it not clear, that the institution I plead for, is not 
 to be shaken in the public opinion or heart ? Does 
 not every revolving year create a new fervor in its 
 behalf? Has it not grown, under the invariable pa- 
 tronage of the upper and middling classes, to be a 
 monument of humanity, in its kind, never surpassed? 
 What then can it require from me, or any other ad- 
 vocate, at this period of its being, but the mere form 
 
76 
 
 of an appearance, with the simplest and least labour- 
 ed exposition of its merits ? 
 
 "I will go after lovers that will give me bread/*' 
 is the desperate resolution of unhappy women, ex- 
 pressed in the Prophet Hosea. There have you, in 
 a word, as strongly and impressively as thousands 
 could convey, the history of every female creature, 
 that is cast, without resource, on the iniquity of the 
 world. Surely, of all the objects that can present 
 themselves to human commiseration, they must ever 
 have the pre-eminence, while our nature is as it is, 
 the horror of whose fate is thus felt and understood 
 at a glance ; and whose spotless purity draws them 
 instinctively to our bosoms, for shelter and protection, 
 against unnatural defilement. There is but one des- 
 cription of beings in the universe that turn away from 
 the doors of such an assembly as this, with sorrow 
 and disappointment at their hearts. Men born for 
 the disaster of the sex, whose brutal and ungovern- 
 able passions, mastering every sentiment of pity and 
 generosity in their souls, urge them to deeds beyond 
 the very reach of atonement ! Nay, the very recol- 
 lection of which is often so intolerable to themselves, 
 as to require the habit of banishing even reason 
 itself, to mitigate the horror of their feelings ! And 
 what aggravates, beyond expression, the enormity 
 of such guilt, is, that were ordinary means are insuf- 
 ficient to the accomplishment of its diabolical purpo- 
 ses, it can veil itself in the deepest hypocrisy ; can 
 appeal even to Heaven to witness the purity of its 
 intentions ; have recourse to the most horrid profan- 
 
77 
 
 ation of vows and promises ; steal an artless creature 
 into perfect reliance on its honour; lead her to her 
 fall, as the innocent and unsuspecting lamb is con- 
 ducted to the sacrifice 5 riot for a while on the pol- 
 luted ruin : then leave her, like a tender blossom, 
 blasted in its spring, either to droop in silent melan- 
 choly to the grave ; or rush from despair into the 
 depths of infamy, and revenge her wrongs on the 
 community. 
 
 Christians, why is this execrable cast of men so 
 little reprobated in the world ? To be formidable 
 and irresistible 10 this way, has ever been a kind of 
 glory. The more public and notorious they are, the 
 more pride in their steps, the more elevated their 
 brows. There are degrees of guilt you would spurn 
 from your presence, and blush to hold the most dis- 
 tant intercourse with. A man convicted, even in 
 mean and dishonourable actions, is avoided like a 
 pestilence. But from what society, what inter- 
 course, what intimacy, is the libertine by profession 
 excluded ? To the scandal of all decency, religion 
 and morals, from few. Nay, it would almost seem, 
 that the infamous title he bears was no small recom- 
 mendation. For what impression does an allusion 
 to his pursuits usually excite, but that of merriment 
 and laughter? This goes to confirm and encourage, 
 instead of appalling him ; brings complacency into 
 his heart, not the blush of shame into his cheek. 
 When so few turn from him with disgust and horror, 
 has he not a right to conclude, that he is engaged in 
 a career which the world approves ? And yet, what 
 
 K 
 
78 
 
 is he in fact, but one of the greatest pests a commu- 
 nity can be cursed with ; whose whole life has no 
 other object but to convert it into a scene of calamity 
 and vice ? Who is known to make charity, yes, sa- 
 cred charity, the pander of his foul appetites ; will 
 open his hand with profusion to the necessitous, in 
 order to shut their eyes on the prostitution of their 
 children ; who respects not rights that are rigor- 
 ously respected by very barbarians ; would dis- 
 honour the family of his host or friend with the 
 same indifference that he would that of the meanest 
 of human creatures : and be as ready to meet, that 
 is, to imbrue his hands in the blood of the father or 
 brother of his victim, as he was to destroy the chief 
 source of their pride and happiness for ever. Alas ! 
 how many unfortunate parents, after the fatal dis- 
 honour of a child, have never raised their heads 
 more, nor passed a moment of remaining life but in 
 counting the pulsations of a broken heart. Continue, 
 my brethren, your protection to this heavenly asy- 
 lum of innocence. The strongest censure you can 
 pass on such monsters, for monsters they are, is to 
 snatch the prey from their ruthless fangs. If it be 
 mercy to hold out a hand to the fallen creature ; 
 oh, what transcendent mercy must it be to prevent 
 all that is lovely to the eye of virtue and of sense, 
 from sharing the same fate ! Many, many a poor 
 undone creature, that now rolls in the horrible abyss 
 of prostitution, would have lived to be all that I 
 have represented in the former part of this dis- 
 course, had she been offered, at the tender season of 
 these orphaus, to such mercy as yours. No woman 
 
79 
 
 ever voluntarily surrendered the blessing of a fair 
 name. The sensitive plant shrinks not more in- 
 stinctively from the touch, than the nature of woman 
 from defilement. Many circumstances contribute to 
 render her an easy prey to the wiles and villainy of 
 man. Ignorance of God, bitter necessity, neglect of 
 parents, and not unfrequently, in the lower classes, a 
 hellish connivance of parents at the ruin of their chil- 
 dren from base motives of gain. But the love and 
 pride of purity are still entwined with her being, and 
 the last breath of virtue ever consecrated to the fair 
 state from which she falls. Often, in the midst of 
 the most thoughtless and headlong course of vice, 
 will the tear of sad recollection steal down into the 
 empoisoned cup. Though, generally, she may be 
 found to evince a detestation of the modest and vir- 
 tuous part of her sex, it is not, believe me, that hap- 
 py distinction from which she recoils, but from the 
 objects that too strongly remind her of her own 
 infamy and degradation. Continue, I repeat, your 
 protection to these pure and unfriended creatures. 
 What is there in the greatest wealth, when stripped 
 of such luxury? The vilest of the human race often 
 possess it, as well as many of you. It cannot, in 
 itself, render any man respected while living, or his 
 memory, when dead. It confers not in itself one soli- 
 tary talent, one solitary virtue. It may roll through 
 the public way in gaudiest magnificence, yet sink 
 under the collected scorn of the world. All the or- 
 dinary enjoyments it procures are transient, and 
 quickly forgotten ; and many out of the four and 
 'twenty hours of every day, namely, those of repose, 
 
80 
 
 see its possessor destitute as the meanest slave. It is 
 unequal to remove one pang from the heart, one 
 ache from the head. It leaves us at the opening 
 of the grave. We behold it on the bed of death 
 with frozen indifference, or fruitless avidity. Our 
 beirs too often pant for our expiring breath. And 
 naked we pass to the embrace of corruption, with 
 the blessings, or the curses of the unfortunate on our 
 heads; either woeful victims of perverted gifts, or 
 confident heirs to a blessed immortality. Oh, may 
 the latter be the lot of every individual who hears 
 me! Continue ; to use the means with which Provi- 
 dence has blessed you, whether moderate or great, 
 as you have hitherto used them. If it would be rasb 
 in me to say, what I fear a mistaken zeal has top 
 often asserted, that superior beneficence is omnipotent 
 with God ; I may safely say after him, that even 
 a mite cast into the lap of misery, in his name, 
 will not lose its reward. Think, particularly on 
 this great occasion, that you are come, not simply to 
 indulge your feelings, in a case of irresistible tempo- 
 ral interest, but likewise to save immortal souls. 
 Heaven is not more distant from earth, than the 
 importance of the temporal lot of those children is 
 beneath that of their eternal. Little ! little does the 
 mere man of feeling know, what a powerful argu- 
 ment this is with a true Christian ; or what aston- 
 ishing sacrifices he is capable of, in such a cause. 
 Let me tell you, what perhaps you do not reflect 
 upon, that in the case of female children, the consi- 
 deration is, if possible, more paramount. 
 
81 
 
 I am sensible what the opinions of many men are, 
 on the subject of future responsibility. All I will 
 say to this is, that if there be a God above us, he 
 has not placed us on this earth as mere frail ma- 
 chines, distinguished indeed from the brute, by the 
 glorious prerogative of reason, but equally destined 
 to au eternal sleep. There must be, after death, 
 rewards for the virtuous, and punishments for the 
 wicked ; a truth so invincibly supported by the light 
 of reason, and so independent of revelation, that it 
 existed at all times, and among all people, as one of 
 those original impressions, that present themselves 
 with the idea of a supreme Being, and form a part of 
 natural religion. Now, it hs impossible to conceive 
 any essential difference between good and evil, with- 
 out the establishment of this truth; or to annex the 
 attributes of justice, wisdom, or holiness, to the 
 name of God, if we suppose him an indifferent spec- 
 tator of crimes, which he must necessarily abhor : 
 admitting all, without distinction, to his glory ; pla- 
 cing the murderer by the side of his victim, Cain on 
 the same throne with Abel. But, whatever common 
 reason may say on this point, it must be admitted, at 
 least, that revelation is dreadfully explicit on it. 
 Indeed, the various passages that treat of it in the 
 Old and New Testament can scarcely be contempla- 
 ted without a shock of the imagination. Not a single 
 want of uniformity appears in any, either as to the 
 certainty of future punishments, or the nature and 
 duration of them. Kven Jesus Christ himself, who 
 came to conyerse with man in a ministry of mildness 
 and charity, spoke the same inexorable language, 
 
82 
 
 and seems specially intent on every occasion to cut 
 up the false confidence of sinners by the roots. 
 This therefore is certain, that whatever some in- 
 fatuated Christians may promise themselves, or 
 however ingenuous they may be, in believing on the 
 easiest terms ; that is, on the principle of having 
 nothing to dread, the only positive advantage they 
 can derive from this, is, to enjoy the present scene 
 with less disturbance from within. But should the 
 truth lie on the side of sound and unprejudiced 
 reason, and the denunciations of religion absolutely 
 mean, what they literally express ; in other words, 
 should such Christians be mistaken on this capital 
 point, surely it is unnecessary to say, that their case 
 is obviously and beyond conception deplorable. All 
 is well as long as the curtain is up, and the puppet- 
 show of life goes on. But when the rapid represen- 
 tation comes to a close, and every hope of a longer 
 respite is precluded, let them believe me, that things 
 will appear in a very different light. A death-bed is 
 a wonderful reasoner. Many a proud infidel hath it 
 humbled and refuted, without a word, who but a 
 short time before, would have defied all the ability 
 of man to shake the foundation of his system. 
 Would to God I could say, that that great and 
 awful moment were as often distinguished by the 
 dew of repentance, as by the groan of despair. 
 
 Let these reflections give weight to the motive I 
 have just urged, for the protection of these children. 
 The state to which they would be infallibly doomed, 
 without your protection, as infallibly conducts them 
 
83 
 
 to the most hardened and incurable guilt. It is the 
 character of deep and habitual impurity, whether in 
 woman or in man, to discard all reflection ; to set 
 the observation, the censure, the abhorrence of the 
 world at defiance ; to blind, to brutalize, and en* 
 slave ; to stifle every cry of conscience, extinguish 
 every gleam of reason, defy every bolt of Heaven, 
 and often impel to horrors unknown to every nature 
 but its own. The very Gospel tells you, that its 
 escort is infernal; being invariably accompanied by 
 seven other spirits, scarce inferior to itself; that is, 
 in a word, every consideration divine and human 
 gives way before this vice as the occasion solicits. 
 What is the consequence ? You know it. The very 
 efforts you make in the reformation of abandoned 
 women, prove your sense of it. Nothing, ? tis true, 
 is impossible to God ; could his grace descend into 
 hell itself, it would be sufficient to purify it. But, 
 in the ordinary course of his interference, or without 
 the aid of human mercy to raise the fallen, the ter- 
 mination of every such woman, must, in the very 
 nature of things, be horrible and hopeless. Setting 
 all other motives out of the question, this alone ought 
 to render the institution before you immortal. Shut 
 the arch of it, my brethren. I know what you are 
 capable of. You see by the notices that called you 
 together, that there is room for fifty more chil- 
 dren. I remind you not of the sum required for the 
 support of one hundred and twenty now before you. 
 That would be needless. You have invariably 
 proportioned your bounty on this occasion to the 
 number of objects. I would urge, great as it is, to 
 
84 
 
 increase that number. It is impossible for human 
 feelings to witness the calamitous complexion of the 
 present time, without doing so. Without pressing 
 you this day to all that is godlike in charity, I am 
 as responsible as you for the fate of all such crea- 
 tures. Woe unto me, were even one excluded from 
 your protection, through the detect of zeal and fer- 
 vour in my ministry. Complete your work I I know, 
 I repeat what you are capable of. Look back to 
 the period when this institution consisted but of a 
 handful of children. Had any man then told you, 
 that you would raise it to what it now is, you would 
 have received the idea as the dream of extravagant 
 enthusiasm. You knew not yourselves. Every 
 year the merits of the object led you insensibly into 
 greater efforts. Early you let the spirit of the world 
 in your hearts, sink lower and lower, before the 
 superior influence of God and humanity. You now 
 look with astonishment, with pride, with delight, on 
 the glorious result. Can I doubt, therefore, that 
 you are made of materials to be roused to the highest 
 pitch by an unparalleled crisis ; that while your 
 hands and hearts are open out of this place, to meet 
 the shocking exigencies of the poor ; while applica- 
 tion succeeds application at your doors, and each 
 finds you equally beneficent ; can L doubt that you 
 will think of the degree to which such objects as 
 these have increased in the general disaster? Yes, 
 my brethren, the present solicitations for admittance 
 into this institution, are heart-breaking. They ex- 
 ceed in number and complexion of misery, all pre- 
 cedent, all credibility. To me, as the long-known 
 
85 
 
 advocate of it, they are incessant. I see creatures 
 brought before me every hour, that would move 
 bowels of iron ; brought by persons who have no 
 human interest in them, but what arises from irre- 
 sistible compassion. Whom do I address at this 
 moment ? Is it tjie inhabitants of a single parish, or 
 the greatest portion of the wealth, the beneficence, 
 the rank of the Metropolis ? Is it possible, that I 
 should lay such circumstances before you without 
 effect? !No. My soul tells me you will feel them 
 as you ought. And as separate streams, when drawn 
 to a common centre, become mighty and majestic in 
 their flow, so, under God, shall the redoubled efforts 
 of every individual of this congregation, in a case 
 so affecting, when united into one mass, present to 
 Him and to the world a new prodigy of Christian 
 charity. 
 
 Now to God the Father, &c. 
 

 MM 
 
SERMON IV. 
 
 [In Support of the Female Orphan House.] 
 
 Ephes. vi. 4. 
 
 Bring them up in the nurture and admonition of 
 the Lord. 
 
 IT has long been the most earnest desire of my 
 heart, to see the education of destitute children, in 
 this country, taken up with a spirit, and extended to 
 a degree, proportioned to the idea we must all have 
 formed of its sacredness and importance. It is im- 
 possible, I think, that any man capable of the least 
 reflection, should not be sensible, that, to draw an 
 incorrupted generation from the evil of the day, 
 would to society be an incalculable blessing. Nor 
 can we be ignorant, that, if the religion of Christ has 
 any one duty more imperious than another, or com- 
 mon humanity any claim on our hearts, that may be 
 deemed paramount, or even irresistible, it is certainly 
 this. Very numerous, indeed, have the occasions 
 been, on which it has fallen to my lot to enforce 
 these truths : and, though I confess I feel both pride 
 
88 
 
 and consolation in contemplating even the slender 
 benefits that have ensued ; yet deeply, at the same 
 time, do I regret, that the consequences naturally 
 to be expected from insufficiency of attention to this 
 great concern, are, every hour we exist, more and 
 more awfully verified. 
 
 I fear, my friends, we need not go far to discover 
 the true source of our torpor and indifference in this 
 cause. Had we more of fervent, genuine religion in 
 our breasts, it would not have been thus long and 
 shamefully neglected. But the truth is, that, with 
 the exception of a chosen few, we have universally- 
 departed from the letter and spirit of our calling. 
 We have sunk a religion, destined to elevate man to 
 the sublimest virtue, into a system of vile accommo- 
 dation with the passions and interests of this world. 
 To the design once formed of extirpating Christiani- 
 ty by violence and persecution, has succeeded one 
 more likely to effect that purpose, because less appa- 
 rent. The great enemy of our salvation has not 
 ceased to combat. He has merely changed his 
 weapons. 
 
 In the days of Christian fervor he went about 
 '•' like a roaring lion, seeking whom he might de- 
 " vour." In these days of refinement and effemi- 
 nacy, like the timid serpent, he creeps, and gives 
 death under flowers. Violence is abandoned as a 
 bad system. For, contrary to his hopes, it only 
 tended to people the world with proselytes, and hea- 
 ven with martyrs. To seduction and insinuation 
 
89 
 
 he has therefore had recourse. Crimes are stripped 
 of their natural turpitude. They are embellished 
 and adorned. Our reason is betrayed. Our senses 
 are fascinated. He has left us the external exercise 
 of our religion, but has raised altar against altar. 
 
 What is the consequence? Why, his triumph is 
 nearly complete. The mystery of iniquity has 
 nearly absorbed the mystery of holiness ! What the 
 cruelty of tyrants could not accomplish, is rapidly 
 accomplishing by softer means. Never did the earth 
 contain such a number of Christians as at this hour 
 Never did it contain so little Christianity. 
 
 Surely then I may be allowed to say, that it is 
 not under such circumstances, great and effectual 
 means will ever be applied to regenerate the morals 
 of our unhappy people. It is not from such passions 
 as too generally enslave us, those scourges of human 
 society, ambition and selfishness ; not from a sys- 
 tem of vanity, the most excessive and puerile ; not 
 from luxury, the most unmanly and sensual ; not 
 from pride the most unfounded and overbearing ; not 
 from impurity, as cruel in its pursuits as destructive 
 in its consequences ; not from pampered idleness, 
 basking in the sunshine of prosperity, and oppres- 
 sing that soil which calls aloud for active and use- 
 ful citizens; not from religion, upheld, as a learned 
 Prelate has recently and justly remarked, in state 
 proclamations, while excluded from practice ; not 
 from fashionable infidelity, reviling what it is incom- 
 petent to refute ; not from the very ministry of 
 
 ^ 
 
90 
 
 God, teeming with intruders, a trust that at -all times, 
 but more especially in the present, requires almost 
 the zeal and labour of an apostle. 
 
 Surely, I repeat it, it is not from such a gulph of 
 degeneracy, the divine flame of charity will ever 
 arise to compass mighty things in the cause of Hea- 
 ven and fellow creatures ! Familiarized with ini- 
 quity ourselves, how shall the torrent of it that flows 
 in the subordinate classes of life pierce and afflict 
 our hearts ? Prodigal of our own souls, how shall 
 we burn for the salvation of others? 
 
 No ; it is a forlorn hope ! The true christian 
 alone is heir to the zeal of his divine Master. Were 
 it necessary to lay down his very life to prevent but 
 a single crime, or save a single soul, the ardent lova 
 of God and his neighbour would readily determine 
 him to the sacrifice. 
 
 Happy, thrice happy, would the state of our soci- 
 ety be at this day, had the orders I now address 
 possessed but a spark of that heavenly spirit! 
 What peace, what harmony, what order, what love 
 and union, what submission to authority would be 
 diffused over the face of this unhappy nation ? 
 Each resigned to the station which Providence had 
 assigned him ; exact to fulfil its obligations, and 
 proposing nothing to himself but with God at its 
 head, disposing the whole by his wisdom, animating 
 it with his spirit, enriching it by his liberality, sancti- 
 fying it by his grace, supporting it by his power ! 
 
91 
 
 At the view of such a blessed scene, who would 
 not feel himself inclined to exclaim, like Balaam 
 before the camp of the Israelites, " How goodly are 
 " thy tents, oh Jacob, and thy tabernacles, oh Israel I" 
 This is what true religion, universally known and 
 practised, would have produced. This is the effect 
 it wrought on its early disciples, that singular and 
 extraordinary description of men, who arose all at 
 once in the very bosom of paganism — the friends of 
 peace, who obeyed, and even prayed for the pros- 
 perity of their persecutors, and were as much dis- 
 tinguished for the love of one another, as for the 
 unequalled purity of their lives. There were riches 
 and poverty among them, and yet they were neither 
 rich nor poor. Love alone equalized every thing. 
 They had but one universal will, the will of God ; 
 one spirit, the spirit of God ; one interest, the interest 
 of all. Divine operation of religion ! what are now 
 thy substitutes ? Mutual repulsion among Christians ; 
 private interest almost exclusively pursued : dis- 
 guised enmities : secret envies : perfidies in friend- 
 ship : antipathies in marriage : discord in families : 
 animosities of party : jealousies of profession : trea- 
 sons against the state : a general fermentation : 
 hatred rankling within, the sword unsheathed with- 
 out ; a nation, forced in its own preservation, to arm 
 chiefly against its own unnatural children : citizens 
 still kept together by their wants, divided by their 
 passions : exterior courtesy, no sentiment of affec- 
 tion : protestations that cost nothing, no real ser 
 vices : an assemblage of men, no society ! A mclan- 
 
92 
 
 eholy picture this, no doubt ; but with you it lies to 
 say whether it be imaginary or not. 
 
 Perhaps you may allow me to shew, in a short 
 digression, that if our insensibility to the pressing 
 claims of the rising generation proceed from our 
 corruption, that corruption has its chief source in the 
 very education we have received. Yes, my friends, 
 if the people are victims, because absolutely untu- 
 tored ; so are we, because the stress in our educa- 
 tion is not laid where it ought. Nothing indeed is 
 usually omitted that can fit the youth of both sexes 
 to play a part in the world ; the one to climb by 
 their talents ; the other to triumph in the wretched 
 circles of vanity by the grace of manners. But a 
 deep and indelible sense of their duty to God, a 
 fixed horror of vice, and noble disdain of folly, 
 where is the parent who thinks sufficiently of in- 
 spiring ? But admitting that some pains are employed 
 on this head, of what use can they be, if, from their 
 infrequency and languor, they are considered by 
 children rather as a debt paid to custom and routine, 
 than a thing of serious and awful necessity? How 
 shall the superficial tincture of religion and virtue 
 bold against the rising passions of youth ? No ; 
 when the season of their hurricane comes, what lies 
 merely on the surface of the heart, will be torn up 
 and swept away like chaff before the winds. No : 
 if impressions penetrate not to the very bottom of the 
 soul, are not united with our very being, never 
 shall man resist, for any time, the power of the 
 enemy within, or of the world without. The evidence 
 
$3 
 
 of this is on every side of us. Besides, of what 
 use are instructions, even assiduously and fervently 
 conveyed, without unceasing vigilance to cut off all 
 danger of corruption ? We know, that to relax in 
 this particular but a moment, is sometimes fatal. 
 Remember that our Saviour scarce slumbered when 
 the tempest arose to overwhelm the vessel that bore 
 his disciples. Remember the counsel of the Wise 
 Man, " "Never lose sight of what you value, and arc 
 i( in danger of losing." Remember the fate of the 
 unfortunate Dinah, "> who went out without being 
 " accompanied." What tears the compliance of a 
 moment cost the afflicted Jacob, and what torrents 
 of blood were shed to repair the injury he received. 
 Indefatigable attention then to this point is indispen- 
 sably necessary. But who, at this day, make it a 
 rule never to admit their children to improper inter- 
 course ? How often, on the contrary, are they per- 
 mitted to pass warm from the lesson of piety and 
 virtue into circles of pleasure and dissipation, where 
 every thing they hear and see tends to enervate the 
 mind and corrupt the heart ? How often are innocent 
 girls matronized, as the phrase is, by women of 
 characters worse than dubious ; as if the rank and 
 distinction of such conductors could be considered 
 as a shield of protection against the contagion of 
 notorious freedom and lubricity of manners ? It will 
 easily, I believe, be admitted, that the world pos- 
 sesses the secret of making perfect proselytes to 
 vice without giving any direct lessons on the subject 5 
 and that many a youth may be thought a saint at 
 borne, who is known among his associates as a liber- 
 
 M 
 
94 
 
 tine of the very first hope ; and who secretly laughs 
 at the imbecility of his parents, who could rely oil 
 theory, and overlook the force of example. 
 
 I cannot omit reprobating on this head the too 
 familiar intercourse to which children are admitted 
 with menials. For to say nothing of the coarse and 
 groveling habits they must consequently imbibe; 
 nothing of those arrogant, overbearing, and super- 
 cilious notions that are necessarily contracted from 
 being deified and fawned on ; the great danger is, 
 that as servants, in general, have not been blessed 
 with the advantage of education, and are under no 
 sort of restraint, but what arises merely from the 
 dread of dismission, they will often utter language, 
 and betray principles, that sink deep into the recollec- 
 tion of young minds, and naturally produce the most 
 deplorable effects. Nay, we need not be told that 
 there are persons in this order of life, who will secret- 
 ly flatter the passions of rising youth, and even found 
 their hopes of a future independence, on a ready ad- 
 ministration to the vilest appetites. Many a man, I 
 fear, in a very different class from that I speak of, 
 owes his advancement ami elevation in this world, 
 not certainly to so infernal a ministry, but to that easy 
 and conniving kind of rule which a youth may ex- 
 perience in a state of pupilage. 
 
 Besides the points I have insisted on, I would 
 remind parents, how infinite almost are the qualities 
 necessary to succeed in seducing, I may say, the 
 understanding and the hearts of children, to the 
 
95 
 
 knowledge and love of virtue. There should be 
 tenderness to engage their affection ; bounty to 
 attract their confidence; gravity to draw their res- 
 pect ; authority to hold them in submission ; affabi- 
 lity to render their dependence amiable; severity 
 that has nothing revolting; compliance that has 
 nothing base ; mildness that knows how to forgive ; 
 firmness that can punish and repress ; wisdom that 
 can sometimes dissemble, and seem ignorant of what 
 it sees; deep attention to discover their ruling 
 passions ; attention, if possible, still more deep, to 
 counteract them, and yet conceal the discovery ; in 
 fine, almost as many forms of proceeding as there 
 are children to educate ; for as every plant requires 
 not the same kind of culture ; so, what would be 
 useful in forming the mind of one child, would be 
 dangerous, or even fatal, in forming that of another. 
 But where are the parents who would know them- 
 selves in this representation ? Sensible they may be 
 of its justice, but such a tax on their time and atten- 
 tion, is found incompatible with their ordinary pur- 
 suits ; incompatible with a life of effeminacy and 
 indolence ; of business or intrigue ; of play or plea- 
 sure ; of tranquillity and repose. What is the con- 
 sequence? Why in the little they may do to forward 
 this great work, they fall into a thousand errors"; 
 being directed more by humour and impatience^ 
 than by sound and serious reflection. 
 
 Some are even brutal to excess in the treatment 
 of their children ; converting an occupation in which 
 tenderness and insinuation should take the lead, into 
 
9b 
 
 a system of downright persecution. When called 
 on to reprehend, they do it in words of wormwood 
 and gall. When forced to approve, their manner is 
 cold and discouraging. They neither do justice to 
 the virtues, nor can forgive the weakness of youth, 
 JSTo entreaties can mollify, no tears disarm them, 
 Their families are the region of eternal tempests, 
 where nothing is heard hut the moans of the oppres- 
 sed, and the bellow of the tyrant. The unhappy 
 victims may be truly said, to feed on the bread of 
 tears and wretchedness. They consider their pa- 
 rents as the most cruel enemies ; loathe and detest 
 their precepts ; and never can be induced to consider 
 that virtue amiable, which is recommended in accents 
 of terror, and enforced by unsupportable authority. 
 
 Hence the most ardent longing for emancipation,, 
 Hence do the youth of one sex plunge early and 
 openly into vice, more perhaps from rage against 
 their persecutors, than from natural inclination ; and 
 those of the other, often at the tenderest age, fly into 
 the arms of the first man who otters to be their de- 
 liverer ; form unequal and inglorious matches ; or 
 become victims of a far more deplorable misfortune* 
 
 There may be, however, and often is, a defect ia 
 the conduct of parents, of a nature the very opposite; 
 namely, that of loving their children too inucb, or 
 more properly speaking, to their ruin. " He that 
 « sparcth the rod," saith the Wise Man, " hateth 
 *' his son : but he that loveth him chasteneth him 
 # betimes." Dreadful are the consequences of that 
 
97 
 
 blind affection which will see no fault in a child, and 
 suffer all the untoward propensities of his nature 
 to grow up and strengthen from the fear of afflicting 
 thein by controul. 
 
 It is not uucommon to see such spoiled children, 
 if I may use a received expression, treating even 
 their too indulgent parents with habitual insolence 
 and disrespect ; starting into ungovernable sallies of 
 rage at the slightest opposition to their will ; be- 
 come absolute pests, not only in their own families, 
 but wherever they are admitted ; and betraying, on 
 all occasions, such sinister propensities as should 
 make parents tremble for their future happiness. a 
 
 But what must we think, when, as they advance 
 in years, their vices and irregularities are overlooked 
 from the same principle ? When parents are found 
 to treat the most notorious profligacy with unabated 
 familiarity and affection 5 nay frequently listen with 
 smiles and complacency to the history of the most 
 scandalous freaks and excesses ! 
 
 Great God, with what justice shall such children, 
 at the close of an unhappy life, descending perhaps 
 into the grave covered with abominations, and des- 
 pairing of futurity, pour burning curses on the head 
 of those who might have prevented so dreadful a 
 catastrophe, by loving them as they ought to have 
 loved I 
 
98 
 
 My friends, we are invested by nature and re- 
 ligion with a kind of sovereign authority over our 
 children, let us use it with tender reluctance on 
 all occasions ; but when necessary, with inflexible 
 justice. Nothing should stand between us and this 
 most sacred duty. 
 
 It was the oblivion of it that drew down the ven- 
 geance of God on the head of Heli and his whole 
 family. They perished in one hour ! Nor can we 
 forget that David, by overlooking, from mistaken 
 affection, the first crime of his son Absalom, soon 
 found him an usurper, and wanting nothing but the 
 occasion, to become a parricide ! Another capital 
 error, to which parents are liable, is, not so much 
 the feeling, as the betraying, a greater regard for one 
 child than another. Did such a distinction arise 
 from a difference in their deserts, it might be jus- 
 tified, as going to promote a spirit of emulation in 
 good conduct ; but founded, generally, on pure ca- 
 price, or some quality merely extrinsic, and often too 
 in favor of the most unworthy, I need not observe, 
 that it is as opposite to reason, as it is irreconcilable 
 with the principles of religion and the impartiality 
 of nature ; besides that it invariably goes to excite 
 the worst passions in the breasts of children. For 
 they who are forced into the shade, delivered over 
 to the most mortifying neglect, to make room for the 
 monopoly of one, will feel it to the quick ; will 
 burn with implacable hatred and resentment against 
 the favourite ; and be impelled to despise, if not 
 detest the parent who is capable of such manifest in* 
 
99 
 
 justice. Nor is it out of experience to say, that a 
 strong and bitter recollection of that injustice, is 
 sometimes preserved far beyond the season of youth $ 
 and that parents have looked in vain for that filial 
 affection and duty which they once took no pains to 
 foment, or rather laboured indirectly to extinguish .- 
 
 The last obstacle to success in this cause, and 
 one absolutely insuperable, is the want of edifying 
 deportment in parents. Where this is wanting, all 
 other efforts are but solemn mockery. It is the 
 strangest abuse of common sense, to suppose that 
 children will retain lessons of religion and virtue, 
 whatever solemnity may be used to infix them, when 
 they have hourly before their eyes so great a con- 
 tradiction, as a dissipated or vicious example in 
 the very person of their instructor. St. Paul has 
 observed, in his letter to Timothy, that a minister of 
 religion should be exempt from reproach ; and for 
 this obvious reason, because no circumstance is more 
 necessary to give effect to ministry. But if we 
 suppose his life to recoil from investigation, or in: 
 other words, his instructions and reprehensions to 
 blush for hi£ morals, what part does he perform but 
 a pompous farce, which in reality has nothing serious 
 save the deep and affecting scandal it entails on 
 religion? With what grace, admonishes the same 
 Apostle, shall he inveigh against adulteries, forni- 
 cation, blasphemy, irreligion, or any other crime, if 
 every word he utters bear directly against himself? 
 Or admitting that he takes care to conceal from the 
 knowledge of the world; the whole extent of his 
 
100 
 
 un worthiness, from what source is he to draw that 
 force and fervour so necessary to impress his hearers, 
 if it he true that the heart alone can speak to the 
 heart? The word of God comes then degraded and 
 weakened from his lips ; and not this only, but he 
 renders it suspected, and consequently unfruitful, in 
 the mouth of better men. For the world, to justify 
 itself, will affect to apprehend the same vices in both, 
 and -pronounce with little difficulty the whole function 
 to be mere art and imposture; nor has it a more 
 usual appeal, than to the conduct of those who pre- 
 sume to condemn it. This is the eternal language 
 of all libertines, and the salt of all their satire 
 against religion and its ministers. 
 
 In exactly the same situation, or if possible more 
 unproductive of fruit, is the parent who takes no 
 care to edify his children. A debauched father may 
 indeed compose a serious face, and speak to his son 
 in sentences on his duty to God, and the debase- 
 ment of being mastered by his passions ; or a woman 
 of the world may read, for mere variety, a lecture 
 to her daughter on the advantages of modesty, re- 
 serve, and retirement. But what effect will either 
 produce, but a manifest impatience of, or a suppres- 
 sed contempt for such barefaced effrontery? But 
 again, witli what indignation shall we think of those 
 who use no effort whatsoever, to weaken the effect 
 of their conduct ; but train up their children openly 
 and directly to vice and irreligion ; sporting in their 
 presence with the most sacred things; holding lan- 
 guage avowedly or transparently obscene : pressing 
 
101 
 
 en their hearts a most irritable sense of the slightest 
 injury or insult; recommending, nay, consecrating 
 the sanguinary rules of modern honour ; implanting 
 an ardent thirst of riches and exclusive ambition of 
 human glory; just as if their object was to spare the 
 devil, the world, and the flesh the trouble of sedu- 
 cing them at a future day ; as if, not content with 
 being personally impious and abandoned, they would 
 perpetuate their crimes and impiety in a guilty race; 
 and, from the bottom of the tomb, continue to insult 
 heaven and earth in the persons of their children, 
 when no longer in a capacity of doing so themselves? 
 If sueh parents tremble not at the thoughts of thy 
 vengeance, O just and righteous God ! what min- 
 ister of iniquity can have cause to tremble? Let 
 those who are parents among us reflect on this awful 
 and too intelligible sentence, "their blood will I 
 "require at your hands." Their blood ! If such be 
 the language of God himself, dreadfully forewarning 
 them, better, far better, they had never been born, 
 than do the work of Satan in the very bosom of 
 their families ; and, contrary to the loud cry of 
 nature, deliberately plunge their children in an abyss 
 temporal and everlasting. 
 
 Let mercy, boundless mercy, at length arise to 
 that friendless generation which I plead for, who 
 have none but us to help them in the ways of eternal 
 life. Never, during a ministry of eleven years, 
 have I omitted, in a single instance, to speak uf that 
 hour that might woefully enlighten you on the con- 
 sequences of slumbering in this cause* 
 
 N 
 
102 
 
 What now have I to tell you, but that Heaven 
 would still seem to leave you to adopt the alternative 
 between its judgments and your duty. Resolve, then, 
 and execute instantly, " most instantly;" let us cut 
 off, as far as our power extends, the supply of 
 abomination through the land. Separate the unpol- 
 luted child from the unexampled contagion of the 
 day ; and resist the evil that already exists, by the 
 increasing energy of every Christian virtue. Let 
 peace, order, and regular government have your 
 steadiest countenance ; they are fundamental points 
 of our holy religion, and fountains of all social hap- 
 piness. Be not deluded by the specious cry of bon- 
 dage and oppression issuing from the den of the 
 murderer and anarchist, and industriously kept up 
 by inflammatory publications, and too active in- 
 cendiaries ; but oppose, by every nerve of your 
 strength, a most outrageous system of insubordina- 
 tion and crimes, that bids fair to have no rival but 
 one, in the history of the whole civilized world ! 
 Away with that unworthy spirit, too common I fear 
 among us, which, from mere motives of personal 
 animosity to ruling powers, would even favour the 
 cause of treason and disaffection. Oh ! how much 
 has the man who rises not at this great crisis above 
 groveling considerations ; who sinks not the little 
 feeling of disappointed hopes or unrequited ser- 
 vices, in a noble, manly, and generous zeal for the 
 salvation of his country ; how much, I say, has he 
 to learn on the nature of true glory ! Let the atro- 
 cious scenes that have passed in another nation, in 
 such rapid and improving succession, and which 
 
103 
 
 rill stain, to the latest period of time, the aimais of 
 tuman nature; let them teach you to value as you 
 ought, the constitution with which Providence has 
 blessed you : for be assured, whatever its infirmities 
 may be, (and from what system, administered by 
 man, can infirmity be altogether inseparable,) we 
 should never exchange it for a better, or exchange 
 it without the worst of calamities, without standing 
 on the wreck of all order, and a foundation of blood. 
 You are deceived, if you imagine that the discon- 
 tented orders of your community, in whose hearts 
 the fear of God hath never been implanted, have any 
 other object in their rage for innovation, but to level 
 every thing with the dust ; confound all rights, no 
 matter by what means, and riot in the ruin. The 
 samples of this, that come daily before you, should 
 warn you of what you ought to expect in the tremen- 
 dous hour of national convulsion. I know that the 
 few sentiments I have just uttered are not, perhaps, 
 exactly such as prudeuce would have directed, 
 seeing the precipitate, inexorable, aud remorseless 
 passions that are abroad. But, thank God, my sense 
 of duty is superior to my fears ; and that I have pro- 
 moted the true interest of the people, too faithfully 
 and too long, to tarnish the zeal I still anil ever will 
 feel for them, by a shameful silence on their present 
 phrenzy and excesses. May that great Being, who 
 hath said through the voice of his prophet, " that 
 " righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is the re- 
 " proach of any people ;" may lie give us to see a 
 generation arise whose virtues shall drown the recol- 
 lection of this unhappy day 5 increase the peace* 
 
104 
 
 glory, and, prosperity of this country ; and individ- 
 ual ly, their own happiness here and for ever! 
 
 I now turn to these orphans. Better we had never 
 opened a single asylum for the protection of inno- 
 cence, than inhumanly dash the blessing from its lips, 
 and cast it out again to a world of misery and vice. 
 God forbid that I should say, that you met not the 
 very thought with abhorrence ! But give me leave 
 to ask, what is to become of public charities if mercy 
 falls short ? What resource have they in such a case, 
 but to lighten a burden they are unequal to sup- 
 port ? Or, who will tell me, that such another shock 
 as this great institution experienced the preceding 
 year, must not sink it forever? 
 
 What, my friends, shall the mercy we once exhL 
 bited, serve but to record our shame and inconsisten- 
 cy? Shall we have take;? up the most affecting 
 object with fervor, nay, with enthusiasm, and like 
 children surfeited with a bauble, rapidly consign it 
 to oblivion and neglect? Is this religion, or is it 
 humanity? How truly, indeed, does the prophet 
 describe us, when he speaks of those hearts of wax* 
 that are easily moved, but with difficulty fixed; or 
 rather, whose distinguishing mark is eternal versa- 
 tility ! How terrible is the sentence which Jesus 
 Christ has pronounced against them, "No man 
 u having put his hand to the plough, and looking 
 " back, is fit for the kingdom of God." He does not 
 say, that he loses his right to the kingdom of God, 
 or is in danger of being excluded from it. But that 
 
105 
 
 the particular and inherent turn of his mind and 
 heart is absolutely incompatible with salvation. 
 And the reason is clear. Religion necessarily sup- 
 poses a character capable of resolving, and adhering 
 to its resolves ; because, virtue is invariably repre- 
 sented in the Holy Writings under the idea of Wis- 
 dom ; and the just, under that of a rational and 
 prudent man ; who judges soundly of things, takes 
 solid measures, and is superior to the miserable 
 weakness of commencing a building, but to leave it 
 imperfect : or in other words, a disgraceful monu- 
 ment of human levity and inconstancy. 
 
 Merciful God ! Will you not recollect the faith 
 you so solemnly pledged to those unhappy infants ? 
 will you not recollect how dear they once were to 
 you? how cherished, how patronized by all the 
 virtue, wealth, and rank of the nation ? What can 
 have happened to estrange you from them, if it 
 be not a crime to do honour to your protection, and 
 present a spectacle at this moment, as glorious to 
 religion as it is affecting to the heart ? 
 
 Will you not recollect, that their case is peculiar? 
 that of all destitute objects, they are eminently the 
 most so ? fatherless, motherless, without one being, 
 perhaps, on the wide earth to shed a tear for their 
 misfortunes, should it be theirs to find themselves 
 abandoned ? Will you hear that sacred voice, which 
 has told you, that, " to visit the fatherless in their 
 " affliction; is pure and undeiiled religion ?" 
 
106 
 
 Have you yet to learn, that the tender commisse- 
 ration of God was from the beginning, peculiar- 
 ly directed to this hapless and unprotected race ; 
 that the Israelites were expressly commanded to 
 consider orphans in the immediate relation of bro- 
 thers ; even to shelter them under their roof, and 
 feed them at their board ? No, never ! never can 
 you deliberately cast them from you, while there is 
 a spark of religion or humanity remaining in your 
 souls ! 
 
 Their sex too ! On this consideration I shall not 
 dwell. I believe there is not a single calamity, of 
 whatever nature it may be, to which unprotected fe- 
 males are liable, or a single blessing, resulting 
 either to the community, or themselves, from their 
 protection, that I have not, on various occasions, laid 
 before you to the utmost of my ability. 
 
 You have, at this moment, in this city, three es- 
 tablishments for the reformation of abandoned 
 women. And, if it be mercy, nay, superior mercy, 
 to favour that reformation, I leave it to your own 
 hearts, candidly and impartially to pronounce on 
 that feeling, which, instead of meeting a public and 
 enormous evil, where it ought chiefly to be met ; 
 instead of opening the gates of an institution like 
 this, would, on the contrary, spurn unpolluted and 
 imploring creatures from our very knees, and 
 plunge them into a gulph, which too many of you, to 
 my certain knowledge, consider as hopeless. 
 
107 
 
 Fair as the occasion may be, in this place, of in- 
 teresting your passions, I will not embrace it. I 
 would leave you the merit of a free and deliberate 
 sacrifice to your duty. I would not have you to do 
 at this hour, what you would not do at the next, and 
 the next. If sober and dispassionate reflection pro- 
 duce not the eflect I desire ; then, give the last blow 
 to this godlike charity. You have shaken it already. 
 Let it sink. Let its inmates go forth into a world of 
 iniquity and woe ! They are not yet without hope. 
 They have still the great Father of the fatherless 
 to supply your place ; to shield them from the ap- 
 proaches of guilt, and feed them as he feeds the 
 raven of the air. 
 
 Alas, my friends, I had forgot that his ways are 
 inscrutable ! Who can answer for his special inter- 
 ference even here ? They may fall, as thousands of 
 deserted creatures have fallen before them. Those 
 forms you now behold, may be blasted with loath- 
 someness and disease ; tha$ spotless purity be trans- 
 formed into shameless and incorrigible vice ; those 
 humble comforts into nakedness and famine, and all 
 the varieties of human wretchedness. 
 
 Candidates at this moment for a career of 
 and blessed futurity, they may live but to curse the 
 hour they were born, through time and eternity. 
 Such is the doom that too possibly may await them. 
 Can you think of consigning them to it ? Can you 
 look up without trembling, or without a tear ? 
 
108 
 
 I need press you no more. I, at least, shall be 
 guiltless of their blood. Deal the point with your 
 God ! you are before him ! he sees you ! he will 
 judge you this hour, as he will judge you for ever I 
 I have the authority of his word for saying it : for 
 saying, that vain is our hope of mercy, should we 
 appear before his awful tribunal chargeable with the 
 perdition of any human creature. 
 
 Oh ! my friends, I recollect days when the cause 
 I now plead could stir up mercy in glorious profu- 
 sion. But, like a tale too often told, we hear the 
 persevering appeal to us with increased indifference; 
 the attraction of novelty is gone. The world has 
 resumed its ascendency. We resemble the unsteady 
 Israelites, who bowed and adored when they first 
 saw that resplendent column of fire that led them by 
 night through an untrodden wilderness, but relapsed 
 again into their former indocility, as soon as the 
 august spectacle became familiar to their eyes. 
 
 I trust, however, that this day will evince that we 
 can be ourselves again. Little passions may have 
 their influence. They sometimes steal on the noblest 
 dispositions. But, where a principle of true great- 
 ness exists, a moment of crisis will infallibly call 
 it forth. And, from the experience I have had of 
 you, I do boldly affirm, that you were not born to 
 be moderately affected, when the cry of one hun- 
 dred and twenty perishing infants resounds in your 
 ears. 
 
109 
 
 I leave you then to be directed by that spirit^ 
 which I trust is awakened in you. \oQ know liie 
 too critical situation in which they stand. 1 have 
 already, I believe, stated, that the result of their last 
 appeal to the public was unequal to the support of 
 one-fourth of their number. I need not staie, that 
 the result of the present appeal must be every way 
 worthy of you, or their destiny is decided. What 
 that destiny would be I have faintly sketched. Of 
 these most wretched creatures, my friends, I had the 
 happiness of being the first advocate. May Heaven 
 avert, that I should know the inexpressible misery 
 of being their last ! 
 
 You ask, and the question is natural enough, how> 
 with a fund so far short, they could have been kept 
 together to this day? I am not at liberty to inform 
 you. I wish, for the honour of human nature, I was. 
 You would then discover, what astonishing sacrifices 
 souls truly christian and compassionate are capable 
 of. So ardent is the interest I take in this cause> 
 that I am at a loss to determine what sentence shall 
 be my last. 
 
 Oh ! my friends, did any of you stand this mo- 
 ment in my place, and plead for children whom his 
 own eyes had seen taken from misery the most appal- 
 ling, of whose present happiness and progress in 
 every virtue he was the frequent witness, whom the 
 force of habit taught him tenderly to love, and who 
 looked up to him as a protector and a father ; yes, he 
 
 o 
 
110 
 
 might be tempted, as 1 am, to encroach on the pa- 
 tience and indulgence of his hearers. 
 
 But I have done. Most fervently do I implore 
 you not to suffer this first of institutions to fall. 
 Save it by one noble exertion ! You live in times 
 when splendid examples, in support of religion and 
 morals, are the supreme duty of every Christian 
 and citizen. You live in times when the human 
 character, I may so say, is universally on the stretch; 
 and, according to its bent, will naturally be distin- 
 guished by great virtues or great crimes. 
 
 Should any persons have come hither unacquain- 
 ted with the pressing necessity of the case, and 
 therefore, possibly, unprovided to meet it to the ex- 
 tent of their wishes : Go, I would say to them, and 
 instantly apply the remedy. Go into the vestry of 
 this church and put down your names for that in- 
 crease of mercy which God has inspired; and carry 
 home the precious consolation of having formed an 
 immediate opportunity of doing what your feelings 
 and a sense of duty suggest. 
 
 Should any others know the practice of contribu- 
 t ting on these occasions to a certain amount, and no 
 more : to them likewise I say, Is it possible that 
 you can be thus masters of your hearts ? Has not 
 true sensibility its sullies and excesses? And are 
 there not calls so imperious, miseries so touching, 
 that to be directed by a given rule in their relief, 
 
Ill 
 
 would seem beyond the power of the least impreg* 
 sible natures? 
 
 To all do I say, be merciful ! Ob ! be merciful 
 according to the measute of the occasion. Act at 
 this instant as you would act were you certain that 
 this very night your soul would be demanded of 
 you. Act as you would act did the Saviour of 
 these orphans stand visible by their side ; reminding 
 you that his blood was shed for them as well as you, 
 and imploring you with his own lips not to render 
 it unfruitful. Can I dismiss a Christian assembly 
 with a consideration more awful ! 
 
 And now to God the Father, &c« 
 

 
SERMON V. 
 
 [For the Female Orphan House."] 
 
 St. John xiii. 34?. 
 
 A new commandment I give unto you, that you love 
 one another. 
 
 WHATEVER difficulty I may feel in attempt- 
 ing to vary the ground of appeal to the charity of 
 Christians, it is more than compensated by the hope 
 of being useful to the cause of society and my fel- 
 low creatures. Warmed by this consideration, I 
 lose the recollection of a wornout subject, and come 
 before you with the confidence of a man, who knows 
 " the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to 
 the strong ;" but that God can make use of the 
 weakest instruments, to execute his designs of grace 
 and mercy. 
 
 Nor am I a little supported by the reflection, that 
 the manifestly increased respect for religion and its 
 duties, goes to supersede, on these occasions, the 
 necessity of laborious efforts to engage the passions. 
 
114 
 
 Before the ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ, th< 
 world was a stranger to the principle of true bene 
 volence. Philosophy gave pompous precepts tha 
 astonished the reason, but reached not the heart 
 Amidst the refined and ostentatious lessons of the 
 sage to explain the secret of human happiness, mar 
 still remained a prey to himself, that is, to his worsi 
 passions. The immense diversity of superstitious 
 manners and interests, had nearly diversified the 
 same nature, and left little to prove the similarity, 
 but the common stamp of humanity. 
 
 To peruse the records of these periods, one would 
 think, that men owed their being to different ^nd 
 irreconcileable creators, who had placed them here 
 below, to glut their animosities by all the various 
 horrors of endless war and extermination. All the 
 crimes and ravages of ambition found an apology in 
 the pursuit of glory ; and the bitterest indulgence ol 
 private vengeance was coloured with the name oi 
 public justice. One successful villain or another 
 became the hero of the day. And millions of human 
 victims often paved the way for the parade of a 
 triumph, and short-lived possession of pre-eminence 
 and power. 
 
 Such was, in a few words, the afflicted state of 
 the world, when a divine and benevolent doctrine 
 presented a remedy to its misfortunes. Alas, too 
 few and rapid were the golden days of its influence ! 
 It would be foreigu from my purpose, it would be a 
 melancholy task, a9 well as too extensive for a dis- 
 
115 
 
 course of this nature, to trace the early and various 
 departure of Christian nations from the great law of 
 peace, love, and union between men : and equally 
 so, to mark all the passions that infringe on virtues 
 that should flow from that godlike precept, in the 
 private intercourse of life. I shall, therefore, con- 
 fine myself to the influence it ought to have, in two 
 points that nearly concern us. First, in inspiring a 
 feeling of true brotherhood between Christians of 
 every religious denomination. And secondly, in 
 peculiarly disposing our hearts to the exercise of 
 mercy. 
 
 I can conceive, my brethren, that Christians, even 
 in the face of an imperious obligation to love one 
 another, may yet sometimes be unhappily divided 
 by their interests or passions ; that a sense of injury 
 or insult may supersede the nobler feeling of for- 
 bearance ; that the spirit of selfishness may steel 
 the heart against the claims of humanity ; or the 
 stings of envy lead to the baseness that would un- 
 dervalue the merit, or to the calumny that would 
 ruin the reputation of another. 
 
 But of all sources of disunion between Christians, 
 it appears incomprehensible to reason, as it certainly 
 is afflicting to the heart of benevolence, that such an 
 effect should ensue, and have ensued in all its bit- 
 terness, from mere difference of opinion, on poiuts 
 of doctrine as unconnected with the fundamentals of 
 that religion, as the variety of speculations that have 
 
11G 
 
 {alien place, on the moral and natural evils of the 
 world, are with the existence of a God. 
 
 I open the Gospel. I see every thing to condemn, 
 nothing to sanction this unhappy perversion of its 
 spirit. I see living Benevolence uniting the Jew 
 and the Gentile, annihilating the distinction of 
 Greek and Barbarian, and delivering up to the ex- 
 ecration of the head and the heart, every prejudice 
 and passion that stood in the way of general union 
 and felicity. 
 
 I see it pointing out to man the greatness of his 
 origin and distinction ; the dangers of worldly 
 prosperity, the utility of afflictions, the merit of sub- 
 mission and patience, the necessity of rigorous pri- 
 vations ; and thus kindling in his soul the glorious 
 ambition of an imperishable good. I see it uniting 
 him to his fellow, by one common worship and one 
 common hope ; and moulding all the people of the 
 earth into the nature of one family, and that family 
 into one heart. 
 
 I see all this ; but not a trace of countenance to 
 intemperate and uncharitable zeal, even in support 
 of essential truths. Witness the instant and indig- 
 nant rebuke of that sanguinary and intolerant spirit 
 in which all the Jew appeared, manifested by Christ, 
 against the wretched inhabitants of an unbelieving 
 village. Witness his tender and indefatigable effort 
 to remove the prejudice of the woman of Samaria. 
 " How is it that thou who art a Jew, can ask drink 
 
117 
 
 " from me vvlio am a woman of Samaria ? for the 
 "Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans." 
 How he accommodated himself to that prejudice, the 
 better to remove it ; spoke the very language of her 
 errors, in search of an occasion to insinuate truth ; 
 and patiently kept back the exposition of her un- 
 happy state, lest her heart should revolt against the 
 hand that was to heal her. 
 
 Through the whole course of his ministry, to 
 require a belief in the sublime and abstruse prin- 
 ciples of the religion he came to establish, was a 
 secondary object. To propagate a benevolent spirit, 
 and mend the human heart, was evidently the first. 
 If Jesus Christ were any thing, he was eminently the 
 preacher of morality. The whole of that truly di- 
 vine discourse which he delivered on the mount, 
 went exclusively to that end. There was nothing 
 in it of a speculative nature ; nothing that was not 
 immediately designed to soften and purify the con- 
 duct, in every relation of life. " Blessed are the 
 H peace-makers, for they shall be called the children 
 "of God." "Blessed the merciful, for they shall 
 " obtain mercy." " Blessed the meek, the poor in 
 " spirit, pure of heart ; blessed all who hunger and 
 " thirst after righteousness." It is the simple, but 
 fervent eulogy of every relative virtue, and every 
 bond of blissful intercourse between men. 
 
 His Apostles inherited his wisdom and his heart. 
 We know the marked solicitude of St. Paul to re- 
 move the seed of disunion, expressed in his letters 
 
 r 
 
*«*>* ' 118 
 
 to Titus. "This is a faithful saying, and these 
 " things I will that thou affirm constantly, that thej 
 "who have believed be careful to maintain good 
 " works, for these are profitable ; but avoid foolish 
 " questions and contentions about the law, for they 
 "are unprofitable and vain." And, I am sure, 
 whoever has a soul capable of being impressed by 
 language, must conceive what true Christian benevo- 
 lence is, from a passage of the same Apostle, which, 
 though familiar to every ear, and therefore less 
 liable to strike, yet equals perhaps, in point oi 
 strength, any thing recorded in the annals of humaH 
 eloquence. 
 
 " Though I speak with the tongues of men and 
 " angels, and have the gift of prophecy, and under - 
 " standing of all mystery ; and have all faith so thai 
 "I could remove mountains, and bestow all my 
 " goods to feed the poor, and give my very body tc 
 " be burned, and yet with all these have not charity, 
 " I am nothing more than a piece of sounding brass 
 " or a tinkling cymbal." That is, in plain words, 
 whoever is a stranger to the ardent love of his 
 neighbour and of mankind, is still ignorant of every 
 thing purely evangelical, and for what end it was 
 that Christ lived and died. 
 
 And when St. John, the peculiarly beloved Apos- 
 tle of Christ, was reproached by Ins disciples for 
 constantly preaching on this subject, or bringing 
 round, at least, his instructions to this one object, 
 let us recollect his memorable answer, " Because it 
 
119 
 
 " is the precept of our Master, and whoever keeps 
 "it, he shall be found perfect before God." 
 
 From all therefore that has been said, it appears, 
 how perfective of human nature and human happi- 
 ness, that system is, which, even in the face of an 
 enemy, observes a brother ; which is oue continued 
 line of exhortation to unbounded benevolence, and 
 whose illustrious fouuder has declared, that its pro- 
 fessors should be known and immortalized by that 
 one sentiment alone: thus, pointing out the means 
 of beginning our heaven on earth, and antedating 
 here below the joys and tranquillity of the blessed. 
 
 And yet it is horrible to reflect, that instead of 
 answering that happy end, it has, by a strange and 
 unnatural perversion of things, become itself, from 
 the day on which Constantine ascended the throne 
 of the Caesars, to that in which we live and breathe, 
 the very soiirce of implacable jars, and led to scenes 
 at which every nerve of humanity trembles. And 
 this, merely to vindicate and do honour (an imagi- 
 nation which the devil alone could suggest,) to par- 
 ticular tenets of faith. Yes ! Christians retaliating 
 on each other by turns, every human calamity, pil- 
 laging towns, depopulating happy and fertile coun- 
 tries, massacreing, with unsparing rage, even the 
 helpless infant, and the tender sex, without any 
 motive, without any spur, but miserable and furious 
 attachment to speculations undeterminable without 
 a new revelation from heaven, and yet which each 
 
120 
 
 were blind enough to conceive as essential constituents 
 of Christianity. 
 
 I know nothing essential to the creed of a Christian 
 but these — belief in the being, attributes, govern- 
 ment, trinity and unity, of God ; that he is the author 
 of all nature, -and fountain of all our blessings ; that 
 his providence is universal as the light ; that we are 
 responsible creatures, destined for a state of felicity 
 or misery everlasting ; that righteousness of course 
 is indispensible to our salvation ; that the Holy 
 Spirit assists our infirmity ; that Jesus Christ is our 
 redeemer, mediator, advocate and judge ; and that 
 under the title of his infinite merits we are all pur- 
 suing the same destination and felicity. 
 
 Every other point is, comparatively, frivolous and 
 indifferent, and which-ever we embrace or reject, 
 according to the result of our inquiry and judgment, 
 can neither add to nor diminish our right to the name 
 of a Christian, or any way affect our pretensions to 
 the favour of God. And, what good has ever arisen 
 from annexing imaginary importance to any thing 
 in which all Christians are not agreed ? We are sure 
 of the bloody and proscribing spirit which such a 
 libel on right reason and true religion has engen- 
 dered, sure of the horrid and unparalleled evils it has 
 produced ! But where are the benefits ? Has it cast 
 one feather into the scale of human virtue or human 
 happiness ? Has it been found that any one denomi- 
 nation of Christians has universally carried the palm 
 of uprightness and pure morality? Is it not clear 
 
121 
 
 that there are, and ever have been, examples of 
 eminent worth and eminent depravity in all ? 
 
 Perish then the principle that opposes the natural 
 tendency of man to man, and has deluged the old 
 and the new world with crimes and calamities. I 
 draw a veil over our own experience. It is, alas, 
 too easy at this day, even with the most benevolent 
 intention of healing and doing good, to incur the 
 charge of the very principle I have now deplored 
 and condemned. For myself I will say, for you my 
 hearers, for the truly enlightened of every sect, that 
 I trust there lives not one spark of it in any corner 
 of our souls ; and that there is not any human crea- 
 ture in the wide lap of earth in whose face we should 
 not read the clearest title to our best love and ser- 
 vice. 
 
 Still never, I do not hesitate to assert it, did the 
 day exist, when, for the honour of a divine religion, 
 and the welfare of human creatures, it was more 
 necessary to unite in tearing up the old and baneful 
 root of bitterness, and impressing deeply on the 
 minds of the ignorant, the great command of love, 
 peace, and union, between all Christians and all 
 men. 
 
 Happy had it been for this small, but charming 
 portion of the earth, had care been early taken, to 
 direct the attention of a naturally open, generous, 
 and warm-hearted race, as the people of this country 
 have been justly and emphatically called 5 not to 
 
122 
 
 tbe miserable jealousy of matters that are the dis- 
 covery of man, but to the great social duties of that 
 system which is the revelation of God. 
 
 A good and benevolent life is the sum and sub- 
 stance of it. And the only right preparation we 
 can make for an happy entrance into that blessed 
 region, where sin and sorrow, strife and discord 
 shall never enter. And much more useful and glo- 
 rious would I deem it to utter even one clumsy sen- 
 tence in support of that vital object, than be the author 
 of all the musty folios the groaning shelves of po- 
 lemic divinity ever bore. 
 
 " A new command I give unto you that you love 
 " one another." 
 
 I have endeavoured to shew the influence this 
 divine precept ought to have in conciliating Chris- 
 tians of every religious communion. It remains 
 to consider it as the most powerful incentive to 
 mercy. To commiserate and relieve the miserable 
 is the law of reason and nature, as well as the re- 
 sult of divine and benevolent doctrine. Man, formed 
 to the resemblance of the deity, was originally pla- 
 ced on this earth to enjoy and divide its benefits 
 with equal wants and equal rights to the same re- 
 sources. 
 
 The universe was a vast temple, in which the 
 great author of nature struck the eyes of his crea- 
 tures under the symbols of various beneficence. A 
 sense of gratitude erected altars, but the blood of 
 
123 
 
 animals stained them not. The offering was more 
 noble, that of virtuous and acknowledging hearts. 
 
 But this happy state was soon overturned by the 
 violence of human passions. It was incompatible 
 with that growing propensity to injustice, that fol- 
 lowed the disorder of our nature. The wants of 
 imagination gave rise to immensity of desires. 
 Force, goaded, and instructed by selfishness, pro- 
 duced the crime of usurpation. The feeble were 
 oppressed, and a large portion of mankind handed 
 over to the care of a just and merciful providence. 
 Here have we, my brethren, if I may use the ex- 
 pression, the ancestry of human misery, and the 
 foundation of that principle which the world knows 
 by the name of Humanity ; a principle resting on 
 the eternal law of reason and justice. 
 
 I need not observe to you, that horrible would be 
 the perversion of both, were men capable of sup- 
 posing, that all the benefits of this earth belong of 
 right to the happier few, without an inviolable ob- 
 ligation of supplying to the utmost, the necessities 
 of the unfortunate and needy ; that the luxury of a 
 single man should absorb the subsistence of thou- 
 sands ; that all the productions of nature and indus- 
 try be collected to pamper sensuality, and rock the 
 luxurious drone, while multitudes, of a class the. 
 most useful and laborious, should know the God of 
 Justice only by the intolerable pressure of his hand. 
 We are, therefore, clearly appointed by him to 
 explain the mystery of his ways to man, by becoming 
 
124 
 
 ministers of consolation to the less favoured, ren- 
 dering our abundance a sure and unerring resource 
 to their necessities, and thus diminishing, as far as 
 in us lies, the immeasurable distance between misery 
 and affluence which otherwise too naturally begets 
 in the neglected sufferers murmurs against heaven, 
 and rage against the prosperous. 
 
 This is what reason alone points out, and for 
 which we should be strictly responsible, though 
 Christianity were a fable, or its founder an impostor. 
 Happy is it that God has implanted, in aid of this 
 duty of justice, a feeling of commiseration, which 
 no prejudice or passion, not even the idolatry of 
 avarice can totally eradicate from the soul, and 
 whose invincible influence on all rational nature, is 
 evinced, not only by the universality of its practice, 
 but the certain remorse, as well as odium and de- 
 testation, which the striking neglect of it never fails 
 to excite. 
 
 Thank God we live in a nation proverbially mer- 
 ciful ; and where those who have been blessed with 
 extraordinary means know how to vindicate, by 
 the constancy, variety, and superior grandeur of 
 their benefits, the impartial justice of Providence to 
 bis creatures, as the great luminary of day, in the 
 majesty and splendor of its march, proclaims to 
 every living eye, the glory of its author. Peace be 
 on their heads, their reward is not here, save the 
 blessing of many a tongue, and the exquisite sen- 
 sation of approving conscience. 
 
125 
 
 But, besides the obligation of justice in this case, 
 a benevolent religion presents to Us, in every child 
 of affliction, a brother, redeemed with the same 
 blood, and destined to the same felicity. It looks 
 not at those arbitrary distinctions which prejudice 
 has formed between men. The august character of 
 Christian, levels every wall of separation which va- 
 nity has erected. " You are all," says St. Paul to 
 the Galatians, " one by faith in Christ Jesus : There 
 " is neither Jew nor Greek, bond nor free, male nor 
 a female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus." We 
 see the blessed effect of this Christian brotherhood, 
 in the iirst society of Christians : total detachment 
 from all perishable things. The earth became the 
 image of heaven, the plaintive tone of indigence no 
 longer heard ; the felicity of every individual in- 
 separable from the felicity of the whole ! By this 
 admirable concert of parts, an august body formed, 
 in which all men, however unequal in rank, were 
 rendered equal by their moderation, great by their 
 disinterestedness, and happy by their beneficence. 
 
 Wonderful are the accounts transmitted to us in 
 history on this subject. For several years the be- 
 nevolence of Christians rose so far above the level 
 of ordinary conception, that the Pagans attributed it 
 to some secret spell or charm, that had the power of 
 inspiring violent and irresistible attachment. 
 
 "It is inconceivable," says one writer, "what 
 " unremitting diligence those Christians use to suc- 
 H cour one another, since they have abandoned the 
 
 Q 
 
126 
 
 u true religion and adore a crucified man. Their 
 " teachers have acquired the wonderful art of per- 
 " suading them that they are all brothers ; insomuch 
 " that the whole of their possessions are given up 
 " for the general welfare." We have likewise the 
 testimony of the greatest enemy the Christian faith 
 ever had, and certainly the most subtile and dan- 
 gerous. For he did not, like his predecessors on 
 the throne, carry fire and sword among its abettors, 
 since experience had proved, that such attempts were 
 fruitless, and only served to give new vigour and 
 increase to the cause. But as the love and charity 
 of the Christians went evidently to beget and diffuse 
 veneration for the principles that could inspire them, 
 he strove, if possible, to clothe the heathen worship 
 in the same fascinating exterior, and thus oppose 
 Christianity with its own weapons. u Since no- 
 " thing," says he, in a letter to a pagan priest, "has 
 " contributed more to the progress of the Christian 
 " superstition, than their attention to the poor and 
 iC friendless, let us even exceed them in this way. 
 " Let us immediately establish hospitals and other 
 li asylums for indigence and infirmity in every city. 
 u For, certainly it is no small ground of reproach 
 "that we should be so glaringly deficient in these 
 6i things ; whilst those impious Galileans cherish 
 ^and relieve, not only the wretched of their own 
 * c communion, but likewise of ours." 
 
 In addition to this striking testimony of primitive 
 benevolence, it is recorded, that, in a single town, 
 namely that of Alexandria, there were annually five 
 
127 
 
 hundred individuals chosen out of the body of Chris- 
 tians to superintend the relief of the diseased poor 
 only. And so excessive was the zeal of benevolence 
 in this way, that Eusebius, (a Christian,) in descri- 
 bing a plague that laid waste the interior of Egypt, 
 has these remarkable words. " Multitudes of our 
 " brethren, without distinction of rank, sacrificing life 
 " to the principle that inspired them, supported the 
 "loathsome and infected bodies of the expiring in 
 " their arms; and, after losing their eyes, carried them 
 " on their shoulders to the grave, only living to re- 
 "ceive,in the course of a few succeeding moments, the 
 " same prompt, generous, and intrepid office of mercy 
 " from others." 
 
 To poor prisoners and captives the relief was also 
 never-failing and extraordinary. Witness only what 
 is related of a Christian bishop, who, together with 
 the entire clergy of his diocese, sacrificed all they 
 possessed at the moment, and were to derive from 
 the revenue of their respective benefices for one or 
 more years, to alleviate the sufferings of many Chris- 
 tians then languishing in the prisons of Rome, under 
 the united pressure of cruelty and famine. 
 
 My brethren, how much do misfortunes of this 
 nature, though arising froril another source, call, in 
 this city, for our tenderest recollection ! If there be 
 any species of inhumanity that exceeds all others in 
 the wantonness of its principle, it is that of commit- 
 ting a human being to the calamity of a rigorous 
 confinement, often for a trifling debt, possibly the 
 
128 
 
 result of disasters which no kind of precaution, nor 
 the best regulated industry could fence against. 
 Perhaps the father of a large family, thus plucked 
 from his counter, or his craft, and delivered to hun- 
 ger and disease ; and, what I conceive to be a much 
 greater evil, the tortures of his mind, at the forlorn 
 situation of objects the most dear to him, deprived of 
 the labour that maintained, and the parent whose ex- 
 ample instructed, whose laborious industry fed 
 them ! The unfeeling creditor, whom neither the 
 supplications of a wife, nor cries of helpless infants 
 could soften into pity, becomes himself a sufferer by 
 his cruelty, or generally, at least, reaps no advan- 
 tage from it, unless it be to gratify a barbarous heart, 
 and increase the burdens of the community. 
 
 To resume my subject; there was no possible 
 calamity, to which the indefatigable eye, and burn- 
 ing heart of primitive benevolence was not directed. 
 It appears from a commentary of one of the Fathers 
 on the gospel of St. Matthew, that not reckoning 
 widows and orphans, destitute children, and stran- 
 gers, and lepers, and those whose distress was only 
 discovered by investigation, or if I may so call it, 
 the sacred curiosity of charity ; that besides those 
 various cases, there were four thousand poor of other 
 descriptions, supported %y the Christian benefac- 
 tions of one small quarter of the city of Constanti- 
 nople. 
 
 And that even a studied and dignified ostentation 
 in (he display of this virtue was deemed justifiable, 
 
129 
 
 We find from a singular example with respect to the 
 emperor Decius. The tyrant demanded the fancied 
 treasures of the church. A deputation replied on the 
 part of the body, and requested but a day to satisfy 
 the order. In the interim they assembled the lame, 
 the blind, the diseased, friendless infancy, and help- 
 less decrepitude, an interesting and motley group of 
 all wretchedness, and producing them, exclaimed, 
 "Behold the treasures of the Church; this is the 
 "only wealth and inheritance which Jesus Christ 
 i( has bequeathed to his disciples." 
 
 I have collected those examples, as the best de- 
 monstration, how far, even the most benevolent 
 Christians among us, have yet to improve, before 
 they arrive at the standard of love and charity, 
 which, in their primitive brethren, was a living com- 
 mentary on the practice and doctrine of our divine 
 master. We see therefore clearly, that whatever 
 our virtue in this way may be, and great manifestly 
 it is, we have still ground to beware of illusion, or 
 false security. It is a sunken rock, the more fatal 
 from its not creating apprehension of danger. More 
 Christian souls have been wrecked on it, than on 
 those of open depravity. 
 
 That a man who, after serious examination of his 
 practice, finds it, generally speaking, conformable 
 to what conscience and religion prescribe, should 
 rest in a great degree satisfied with himself, is both 
 reasonable and just. 
 
130 
 
 When self-approbation is founded in truth, it 
 becomes obviously legitimate. It is the first fruit 
 and first compensation of virtue. But he who, from 
 the want of such severe and honest scrutiny, unhap- 
 pily deems himself what he is not, resembles the 
 dropsical infirm, who would mistake, for sound and 
 increasing flesh, the mere consequence of a disorder, 
 that is sinking him to the grave. 
 
 Self-love disguises itself in so many forms, is so 
 subtile and ingenious, whether to extenuate our 
 greatest defects, or give superior lustre to our mode- 
 rate virtues, that even the wisest may be deceived. 
 It is a gross, and not uncommon illusion among 
 some Christians, to judge of their individual merits 
 and sufficiency, in the discharge of the duty before 
 us, by the magnificent effects that have resulted from 
 the general practice. This is coming at justification 
 on the point ; or, to speak more familiarly, going 
 to Heaven nearly at free cost. No, my brethren, if 
 we aspire thither, it must be with our own wings; 
 else we remain fixed to the earth. Every Christian 
 is to look to himself, and honestly ask his heart, 
 what share he has borne in producing, and still bears 
 in perpetuating, those glorious monuments of mercy, 
 that exalt us in the eyes of nations. 
 
 Many and awful are the warnings we receive in 
 the sacred writings, on the danger of worldly pros- 
 perity. When it is said, that it is easier for a camel 
 to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich 
 man to enter into the kingdom of God, it certain- 
 
131 
 
 ly is not intended to disturb our muscles by its 
 singularity; but to convey the strongest ima- 
 ginable idea of the extreme facility, with which the 
 blessings of such a complexion may be converted 
 into the last of misfortunes. And you may judge 
 what impression this awful truth is capable of 
 making on the soul of a true Christian, when I tell 
 you, that one of yourselves, one of the wealthiest and 
 most merciful characters of this nation, has been 
 heard to declare, that though he endeavoured to 
 discharge his trust in the relief of all indigence to the 
 very utmost, he yet, never in the course of his life, 
 reflected upon the extent of that sacred obligation, 
 without encreased fear and trembling. 
 
 Whether such a feeling be salutary or puerile, 
 each will determine, according to the degree and se- 
 riousness of his faith. I shall conclude these reflec- 
 tions with observing, that I have not offered them 
 in the spirit of reproach. Far from it ! But from a 
 conviction, that to recommend a serious appeal to 
 our own bosoms, as the only means of dissipating 
 all illusions, and clearly discovering how far we 
 come up to what is solemnly required of us, accor- 
 ding to our ability, is the sacred duty of every min- 
 ister of God, who has either an atom of zeal for the 
 cause, or care for the salvation of those whom he 
 addresses. 
 
 It would not be easy for me to offer novelty of 
 matter in the case for which we are assembled. 
 Whether we follow such unhappy creatures in a 
 
132 
 
 state of dereliction, from the first advances of misery 
 and vice, through every gradation, to a sad and often 
 horrible catastrophe ; whether we look to the enor- 
 mous guilt of those men, who lie in wait for the 
 destruction of such innocence ; whether we consider 
 the supereminent obligation, of being engaged more 
 on these occasions, by a regard for their salvation, 
 than pity for their temporal misfortunes ; whether 
 we reflect upon the extraordinary, nay irresistible 
 influence, which woman naturally possesses in the 
 diffusion of virtue or vice ; there is not one of 
 those various and most sacred motives, in the present 
 case, that has not been fully urged on you, at least 
 to the utmost extent of my ability, in a multiplicity 
 of former discourses. 
 
 Why then should I trouble you on points, which 
 I have neither language nor imagination to present 
 in new colours? Perhaps, even the interest of these 
 orphans would have required another advocate. Be 
 that as it may, I must say, that you have long heard 
 me on the subject with singular patience. I am 
 blessed with the effect, and never do I wish to see 
 the moment that would efface from my soul the ten- 
 derest recollection of such generosity and indul- 
 gence. I commit then, with perfect tranquillity, the 
 event of the day, to your established sense of the 
 merits of this great institution ; justly indeed styled 
 great, when we look to a scale of protection, compre- 
 hensive without example, I am sure, at this moment, 
 in any nation upon earth. 
 
133 
 
 The number is now one hundred and twenty-five,* 
 and will shortly be one hundred and forty, fatherless 
 and motherless creatures, all maintained and educa- 
 ted within the walls of one establishment, with little 
 aid but the resutt of a single day's appeal to public 
 mercy ! And how doubly glorious to our metropolis,, 
 when it is considered, that besides this, and in times 
 more or less unfavourable to the circumstances of all 
 ranks, it not only provides assiduously, and even, 
 splendidly, for all other public objects, but is every 
 day indulging its passion for such good in the ima- 
 gination of new ! 
 
 It is said by the unfaithful steward in the gospel 
 €i To dig I am unable, to beg I am ashamed." I 
 will reverse the assertion, so far as to say, that to 
 beg I certainly am not ashamed. It is a profession 
 I glory in. And I bless God, I have never failed 
 with you. I therefore remind you, again and again, 
 my brethren, that it is not one hundred and twenty- 
 five, but one hundred and forty that now implore 
 you. 
 
 Tis true, the burden is now greater than ever 5 
 but it is not you that can be alarmed at it, since, 
 strictly speaking, it is one of your own creating* 
 Yield then, my brethren, on this occasion, as you 
 have invariably done, to the supreme delight of 
 doing good. Try, whether the additional sacrifice 
 that is now required of you, will not prove a rich 
 mine of pleasure to your hearts ; whether to-mor- 
 
134 
 
 row's sun will not behold you rising from your pil- 
 lows with joy, at the recollection of having fairly 
 and fully met the increased exigence of the case, 
 which, in all its views, I will venture to pronounce, 
 as sacred and affecting as ever aadressed itself to 
 the bosom of a Christian. 
 
 As many of you, my children, and by that name I 
 feel I may call you ; as many of you are old and 
 instructed enough to admit a word of serious admo- 
 nition, let me in the first place recommend everlas- 
 ting gratitude to heaven, for having given you to see 
 the light in the bosom of such mercy. Prove your- 
 selves worthy of it by your diligent and docility, 
 and when you go forth into the world, full fraught 
 with those sacred principles, which I know are 
 carefully and profoundly instilled into you, beware 
 of the examples you may meet even in the most reli- 
 gious families. 
 
 Fondness of society with the common run of ser- 
 vants, though it may not always lead to positive 
 destruction, will yet infallibly weaken in your hearts, 
 the love of purity, and abhorrence of guilt and pro- 
 faneness. 
 
 • 
 
 Avoid that intercourse without affectation, but as 
 much as the nature of your avocations will admit. 
 Above all, never forget to preserve a severe though 
 respectful distance with masters and growing off- 
 spring of the same sex. It is too natural for girls. 
 
135 
 
 iu your station, to be flattered by the notice they 
 attract from such quarters. But woe unto her, who 
 is not on her guard against her own frailty, and the 
 frailty of others. 
 
 Let all your leisure hours be employed, not iu 
 the secret perusal of those dangerous and- silly tales, 
 that may be scattered in your way, and which, unfor* 
 tunately, too much beguile the hours of your betters; 
 but of that sacred volume, which is now exclusively 
 in your hands, and alone can secure your felicity 
 here and for ever. 
 
 There is but one point more, on which I deem it 
 necessary to counsel you, that is, a passion for dress. 
 It is too much the practice of those, who take chil- 
 dren from this institution in particular, to foment that 
 dangerous inclination, by decorating them to the ut- 
 most, without reflecting, that vanity is a door by 
 which the devil invariably enters into such hearts. 
 
 This is the first time I have addressed you. It 
 is the sincere expression of my affection for those, 
 whose cause it has been my lot to recommend from 
 its cradle to a glorious maturity ; and may possibly 
 be remembered by some* of you, when he who has 
 recommended it may be incorporated with the dust 
 
 May that God who has declared himself to be 
 the father of the fatherless, inspirit the hearts of 
 these, your hitherto unchanged benefactors, to do 
 
136 
 
 this day, according to the necessity, in the protection 
 of this first of Christian Charities, for Jesus Christ's 
 sake ! Who with him and the Holy Spirit, liveth 
 and reigneth, world without end ; Amen. 
 
 4-nd now to God the Father, &c„ 
 
 
 
Hi 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 [Tor the Female Orphan House, Dec. 23, 1798.] 
 
 St. James, 4ii. 17- 
 
 The wisdom that is from above is full of mercy. 
 
 NEVER, in any period of our existence, did 
 circumstances more unite to recommend the practice 
 of this great virtue. Scarce breathing from the 
 various and perhaps unparalleled evils of civil dis- 
 sentions, what a spectacle does our bleeding country 
 present at this moment, what a field for commis- 
 seration and the most active benevolence ! What 
 exertions will be necessary to repair the direful ca« 
 lamities of war ! 
 
 It is not the thousands of widows and orphans it 
 has made, that appeal to us alone : not merely thfc 
 sufferings of innocence we have to deplore and re- 
 lieve. There is perhaps a greater, a nobler duty 
 before us ; namely, to forget our injuries, and aston- 
 ish the guilty, by an increasirig*system of tenderness 
 and mercy : standing, as we are, in a situation so 
 
 ♦ 
 
138 
 
 new to all hearts, so puzzling in point of present 
 remedy, to the best understanding; so big, (if I 
 may say so,) with the great secret of our future des- 
 tiny as a nation. 
 
 For one do I declare the firm and rooted convic- 
 tion of my soul, that nothing else will finally restore 
 subjection and tranquillity, allure the desperate from 
 their fastnesses, re- people our deserts, create con- 
 fidence and affection, tread down the horrid spirit of 
 religious animosity, revive industry and labour ; in 
 a word, disarm the heart, and enlighten the phren- 
 zy of our unhappy people. 
 
 Some there may be who, smarting from wounds 
 Inflicted on their country, would cry out for a con- 
 trary policy, and judge, that our future security calls 
 rather for examples of implacable severity. The 
 wisdom that is from above is full of mercy, it will 
 take a contrary course. While it displays the power 
 to crush, it will likewise display the tenderest incli- 
 nation to heal. It will treat with the human heart, 
 which, with little distinction, is the same in all men; 
 for it knows, that no conquest ever the guilty is more 
 lasting, or more sure, than where remorse can be 
 awakened, and gratitude *exri ted, by the reception 
 of an unexpected and unmerited favour. 
 
 Perhaps, , among the many evils that have arisen, 
 from the dreadful visitation we have experienced, 
 it is not the least, that too many of us have been led 
 to view our condition through the false medium of 
 
139 
 
 exasperation and passion* Long familiarity with, 
 the scenes of summary justice, if it has not created 
 the appetite, has at least lessened the horror of blood. 
 
 The placable spirit of Christianity should never 
 be borne down by the horrible impulse of retaliation 
 and revenge. To give peace to our mangled and 
 distracted country, no effort, no parley can be de- 
 grading. To savages we should leave the savage 
 luxury of returning evil for evil, cruelty for cruelty, 
 blood for blood. 
 
 Never, even in the remotest degree, should w& 
 let ourselves be hurried into an imitation of those 
 actions we profess to abhor. Nor ever should it be 
 forgotten, that even a single life, sacrificed without 
 necessity, is the deepest national disgrace ; is a 
 ground of awful responsibility before the throne of 
 God ; and encreases a thousand fold the rancour 
 and animosity of the vanquished. 
 
 All will certainly not be with me in what I am 
 going to assert. But of this I am clear ; that our 
 glorious constitution in church and state, may have 
 much more to fear from the precipitate zeal of its 
 friends, than the power of its enemies : and that 
 they should be reckoned the best benefactors of our 
 country, who labour to protect it from the impolitic 
 and unchristian exercise of triumphant fury. 
 
 I do more than hope, that the instruction of the 
 eteration, will now at least become an object 
 
140 
 
 of peculiar attention. Woeful experience is come 
 at last to verify the truth of observations on this 
 subject, which for many years have been zealously 
 and repeatedly pressed on you. 
 
 Often have you been told, that if ever these spe- 
 cious and destructive principles, that were shaking 
 every foundation of human happiness in a neigh- 
 bouring country, and disgracing the name of man by 
 unheard-of affliction, found their way into this, they 
 would raise a flame, which torrents of human blood 
 might be insufficient to extinguish ; and perhaps, be 
 followed by nothing short of total and unextinguished 
 ruin. 
 
 How far this prediction has been accomplished, 
 you have seen. Let me not recall what is fresh in 
 you recollection ; what is spread out before you in 
 tints that may never fade. To the latest hour of 
 your lives, while memory remains a faculty of the 
 mind, humanity will weep, and religion shudder, at 
 the horrors that have been crowded into the short 
 space of one season. I pass them over. May we 
 live to atone for the share we have had in them ! 
 May they never rise in judgment against us ! I do 
 most solemnly declare, the more [ consider the na- 
 tural effect of causes, the more I am induced to par- 
 don the guilt (if I may say it) of the people, even 
 white as snow, when compared to ours. I would 
 almost say, they could not have acted otherwise than 
 as they did. Minds so completely depraved, so en- 
 tirely unoccupied by any restraining sentiment, were 
 
141 
 
 filled with matter too inflammable, possibly to resist 
 those infernal principles that hovered around them. 
 The knowledge of God and the blessings of religion, 
 (those infallible sources of subordination and virtue,) 
 we had almost totally neglected to diffuse. The very 
 little we had been goaded to in this way, served but to 
 throw the eye over the immensity that remained to 
 be done ; and like spots of cultivation, to render the 
 surrounding sterility more striking and apparent. 
 
 The great mass of our people continued still an 
 untutored and unfortunate race, without interest in 
 the public weal ; with deep and hereditary animosity 
 to the state and its institutions ; ripe for destroying 
 all above them ; brutal in vice, brutal in ignorance ; 
 ferocious of soul, and panting for the sigual of revolt 
 and blood. 
 
 To this spectacle of degraded nature, of barbarism 
 in the bosom of civilization, of mental darkness in 
 the midst of revelation and light, we remained har- 
 dened and insensible. The great misfortune, the 
 uncivilized condition of Ireland, became no uncom- 
 mon theme of sarcasm, even to Irishmen. 
 
 Thus did we live Christians without zeal ; citizens 
 without public virtue 5 men without bowels of hu- 
 manity ; corrupt, venal, dissipated and luxurious. 
 Our means were all devoted to the gratification of 
 our passions ; and the united cry of religion and our 
 country reached us in vain, amidst the eager pur- 
 
142 
 
 suits of personal interests, and tbc agitations of a life 
 most shamefully secular. 
 
 The hour of retribution at length came. National 
 iniquity provoked national judgments, and our own 
 people were destined, as they had long been trained, - 
 to become the ready and furious executioners of the 
 sentence. 
 
 Let not the valour and loyalty we have dis- 
 played, or the laurels we wear, deceive us so far, as 
 to leave no room in our hearts, but for pride and ex- 
 ultation. When we consider our omissions on the 
 point I speak of, perhaps if there be hearts under 
 heaven that should know neither pride nor peace, 
 they are ours. 
 
 To have manfully opposed the tempest that has 
 burst on us ; to have bled (or been ready to bleed) 
 when murder and rapine were at our doors, when 
 our constitution, our altars, and every private blessing 
 we enjoyed, were marked for destruction, was doing 
 no more than the wretched inhabitants of an uncivi- 
 lized country would have done, to maintain the do- 
 minion, and protect the peaceful misery of his hut. 
 But oh ! what ground of eternal remorse, to reflect, 
 that we have, with our own hands, sown the seed of 
 all the calamities that have come upon our country : 
 all the enormities that have dishonoured religion and 
 human nature ; all the outrages committed on every 
 feeling of humanity ; all the souls that have perished, 
 and miseries that have been entailed on the innocent 
 
14 
 
 o 
 
 and unoffending, in the course of this unhappy con- 
 test. 
 
 But let us not despair. We have been chastened, 
 hut not devoted. Heaven, in the immensity of its 
 mercy, hath shewed us the precipice on which a na- 
 tion stands, " whose God is not the Lord." We 
 have been spared the tremendous and irrecoverable 
 fall. We still exist in the possession of those bles- 
 sings for which we struggled ; and torn from which, 
 a man not restrained by religion, might scorn to live. 
 We are still allowed to repair long, fatal, and most 
 decided errors. Let us not rely too much on the 
 present calm we enjoy. It is, if possible, more awful 
 than the storm. If we look back with horror, we 
 should look around us with diffidence and trembling. 
 We should feel all the precariousness of our situa- 
 tion. Nor should the mind ever bury its alarms but 
 in the well-founded prospect of a future security. 
 
 To provide for this every good and wise man in 
 the community is anxiously revolving the means. 
 It is my duty, however, to remind you, that, if there 
 be a God above us, whose patience is certainly not 
 inexhaustible, who can counteract the best concerted 
 enterprizes of man, we should endeavour to conci- 
 liate his favour, and attract his blessings, by a firm 
 resolution to regenerate ourselves, and regenerate 
 our people. 
 
 Nor will I hesitate to add, that, were all the poli- 
 tical wisdom of the earth assembled to frame, I do 
 
144 
 
 not say a present, but a permanent remedy to the 
 evils of our condition, their efforts would be vain, 
 without attention to the culture of the rising genera- 
 tion. The happy and powerful effects of religion 
 on societies, on the morals, and manners of mankind, 
 are evinced by the experience of ages. The only 
 example that has occurred of an impious and suc- 
 cessful conspiracy to overturn, through a great nation, 
 this fundamental pillar of subordination and virtue, 
 has been followed by such principles of anarchy, 
 and enormity of crimes, as, 1 trust, will keep alive, 
 to the last period of time, the caution, dread, and 
 execration of the whole Christian world. 
 
 There is an object I deem it right, on this occa- 
 sion, most earnestly to recommend. It is not uncon- 
 nected with my subject. And, if I can persuade 
 myself, that the awful conjuncture in which we 
 have stood has had the effect of exciting the serious 
 recollection of our duties, and that we have nothing 
 more sincerely and ardently at heart, than to give 
 a firm support to the renewal of religion and morals, 
 through every channel of society, I may be allowed 
 to hope, that, in the bosom of our families, this so 
 sacred and indispensable concern will experience all 
 the weight of our authority and example. Our fami- 
 lies are the natural and immediate field of our zeal 
 in this cause. Indifference to it in any other sphere 
 would be highly criminal ; indeed, at this time, pe- 
 culiarly abominable. In what terms should I speak 
 of it, where the responsibility is so peculiarly direct, 
 the harvest so sure, and the evils that arise from the 
 
145 
 
 neglect lie so immediately under our eyes to goad 
 and reproach us ? As the heads of families, we are, 
 if I may so express myself, the chief posts of a 
 confederacy in support of the general good. To us 
 the superintendency of a portion of our fellow-crea- 
 tures is solemnly committed by God and our country. 
 Nor can we fly from the trust reposed in us, without 
 doing what in us lies to counteract the saving and 
 beneficent views of God, and weakening the great 
 edifice of public happiness. 
 
 Perhaps, my friends, if human laws could, 
 without inconvenience, take cognizance of such 
 things, no- man would deserve their severity more 
 than he, who, by direct example or connivance, ren- 
 ders his house a seminary of vice and licentiousness, 
 which must naturally operate to the annoyance of 
 the community ; but which, on great occasions, will 
 too often come forth to assist in its destruction. 
 
 I make this remark, because in the course of the 
 late rebellion we have more than conjecture. We 
 have indubitable evidence, that servants, in numerous 
 instances, if not the actual perpetrators, have, at 
 least, by the vilest perfidy, removed all obstructions 
 to the bloodiest barbarities. And, in some cases, 
 even the most generous and indulgent masters found 
 no security from the monstrous ingratitude of 
 wretches hurried away by the cruel, rapacious, and 
 subverting spirit of the times. Nor can any doubt 
 be entertained, that the number is comparatively very 
 few, in the metropolis or out of it, who have not 
 
146 
 
 bound themselves with that union which has at- 
 tempted to overturn the property, religion, and con- 
 stitution of the nation. To this class, then, of your 
 fellow- Christians look with the warmest zeal and 
 compassion. 
 
 Of the duty you owe your children I speak not, 
 Laving dwelt on it at large, when last I had the 
 honour of addressing you from this place. And, 
 indeed, if there be any subject which one would 
 think it should be unnecessary to urge on a Christian 
 congregation, it is certainly that. Melancholy ex- 
 perience, however, has convinced us, that the most 
 sacred of all obligations can be very imperfectly ac- 
 complished, and that many of our youth would seem 
 much better trained to vilify the principles, and dis- 
 claim all respect for the duties of religion, than to 
 glory in what they profess, and do honour to it by 
 their practice. I am happy, however, to under- 
 stand, that the little miserable affectation of profane- 
 ness and infidelity, so current among them, that base 
 sacrifice of the little they know, and the few impres- 
 sions they have received, to contemptible motives 
 of vanity and fashion, is, in some degree, concealing 
 itself. At all events, I call on the zealous and in- 
 formed boldly to rebuke it ; to treat it without cere- 
 mony or mercy wherever they may iind it, or from 
 whatever lips it may fall. Shyness, or respect of 
 persons on this subject is not for the awful gran- 
 deur of the present moment, when religion and its 
 virtues seem to be the last stay of a convulsed and 
 sinking world. 
 
147 
 
 But, however deficient we may be with respect to 
 our children, it is manifest we are more so with res- 
 pect to our servants and dependants. How few 
 Christians will reflect, or, perhaps, even admit, that 
 the morals of this class are any concern of theirs. 
 Nothing, however, more certain ! Nor is there a 
 rule in our holy religion more inviolable than, that 
 every man possessing authority over another is re- 
 sponsible for his conduct, according to the measure 
 of that authority. 
 
 The very principles of reason inform us, that all 
 government is constituted for the advantage of the 
 governed. Thus, kings and princes belong more to 
 their subjects, than their subjects to them. Nor does 
 the weight of such an engagement derogate from 
 their greatness, or take any ray from the lustre of 
 their crowns. For, what can be more glorious, or 
 draw man nearer to the Divinity, than to exist only 
 for the felicity of others ? By the same rule, a mas- 
 ter in his family, which is a kingdom in miniature, 
 is not to consider those unfortunate persons sub- 
 mitted to his controul as mere instruments to promote 
 his convenience, and fill up the splendour and mag- 
 nificence of his train ; but as fellow-creatures, and 
 fellow- Christians, possessing the most serious claim 
 on him. Nor is there a doubt, that as he is 
 bound in rigorous justice to compensate their labour, 
 and as common humanity obliges him not to desert 
 them in their infirmities, so he is likewise called 
 upon to be their apostle, to labour zealously and as- 
 siduously for their sanctification ; and that if they 
 
 
148 
 
 perish through his neglect, he will be as cerlaiuly 
 accountable for their blood, as he would be, under 
 the same circumstances, for the blood of his children. 
 But, how are we generally affected by this alarming 
 truth ? What pains do we see taken to impress ser- 
 vants with religious sentiments? What is become of 
 that sacred practice which once obtained in Chris- 
 tian families, of summoning them to morning and 
 evening prayers ? Is there a master or mistress in 
 a thousand, who would not blush to have it spread 
 abroad, that they were capable of such antiquated 
 drudgery ; or, as more probably it would be called, 
 such canting hypocrisy ? And yet I have seen a 
 woman in this country, the very first in rank, and 
 second to none in virtue, she is now no more ! des- 
 pising, on this and every other point of Christian 
 duty, the shafts of fashionable ridicule, and regu- 
 larly performing, with her own lips, the charitable 
 office in the midst of her assembled family. 
 
 With respect to public worship ; Who makes it a 
 point that his servants should regularly attend it? 
 Cut off from the only means of knowing that there is 
 such a thing as religion, or a God, from whence are 
 they to derive light? Or, are they instructed to 
 reverence the sabbath in any other way? On the 
 contrary, what scandalous prophauations of it do 
 they not witness, and, from the nature of their func- 
 tion, are often obliged to participate ! See them col- 
 lected in groups around the doors of this temple, 
 polluting the sacredness of the day with intempe- 
 rance, indecency, and imprecations ; while their 
 
149 
 
 employers within are giving a public, though more* 
 refined example, how far an express commandment 
 of God can be despised and trampled on ! I speak 
 not of the various other sinister impressions they 
 receive from improper example, and the little re* 
 serve often shown in their presence, either as to 
 word or action. Need I observe to those who know 
 that man is an imitative creature, how impossible it 
 is for mercenary and uneducated souls not to 
 despise what they see despised; to practise what 
 they see practised ; and to become, in all respects, 
 faithful counterparts of the originals they have daily 
 and hourly before their eyes ? But, Great God ! in* 
 what terms sufficiently indignant shall we speak of 
 those who, not satisfied with the perversion of their 
 servants in the ordinary way, that is, by the usual 
 operation of evil example, scruple not to render 
 them direct accomplices of their actions, and some- 
 times in a way which the respect I owe to this place 
 will scarce allow me to hint at? Who are taught 
 to receive the importuning and necessitous creditor 
 with shuffling denials, perhaps with insolence and 
 rebuke ? Servants ! Who are commanded to close 
 the door, with inhuman brutality, against petitions 
 of misery? Servants ! Who, when the occasion re- 
 quires it, are called upon to be the ready ministers 
 of vengeance and resentment? Servants ! Who are 
 instructed to cater for the vilest of human propensi- 
 ties ; to bribe poor and unhappy parents to the 
 prostitution of their children, and lead an innocent 
 and trembling victim to pollution and infamy; to 
 the loss of peace and happiness for ever ? 
 
 t 
 
150 
 
 Is there any mystery of iniquity, any office of 
 darkness, in which your knowledge of the world 
 does not tell you they are employed ? Great God I 
 how often do they come into families, pure from the 
 harmless pursuits of a country life, inexperienced in 
 all vice, and leave them knowing and contaminated 
 as the serpent ! 
 
 Can the mind of man conceive any thing more de- 
 testable than to presume on their dependent condi- 
 tion, and drive them to the deplorable necessity of 
 electing between the support of life and the perdition 
 of their souls ! 
 
 I leave this subject. I should not have touched 
 it, had not the necessity of cleansing an Augean 
 stable become manifest to i,l 5 commonest observer. 
 I am astonished to think, that Christians, who know 
 their religion, and believe in its menaces, can hope 
 for any mercy when they show it not to those whom 
 God and nature have committed to their protection. 
 Unhappy beings ! left without faith, without divini- 
 ty, without any rule of conduct, or a single tempt- 
 ation to the practice of any human virtue ! rolling 
 from house to house, from service to service, equally 
 neglected in all ! picking up some precious lesson, 
 some new particularity in each, and from a life of 
 continual rotation, becoming at last a monstrous 
 compound of all characters and all vices! Let us 
 recollect our duty, recollect our responsibility. It 
 is not possible that the principles of our education 
 can be so effaced as to leave us at ease on the 
 
151 
 
 subject of future responsibility. How gross is that 
 delusion, to tremble for our properties, our lives, 
 and all the various enjoyments, which imagination 
 magnifies, and a short period will annihilate ; and 
 not tremble at the great reverse that may await us at 
 the tribunal of a living and just God ! I know there 
 is no sentiment in nature more difficult to excite, 
 than the apprehension of futurity, on the hearts of 
 lukewarm Christians. And yet, where faith is not 
 entirely extinct, there must be moments of reflection ; 
 some unexpected and importunate flashes of light, 
 that force the reluctant eye beyond the confines of 
 the grave. It is not necessary to spur the miser to 
 the care of his treasure ; or the ambitious to besiege 
 and importune the man who has favours to bestow, 
 and cut their way by means, however base, to the 
 possession of riches and honours ; or the voluptuous, 
 to strew flowers in their paths, and pass their days 
 in the midst of festivity and enjoyment. No, be- 
 cause vigilance and industry are inseparable from 
 all passion. Shame ! indelible shame ! that the man 
 of folly and corruption is ever awake, and the man 
 of eternity, the man destined to a glorious and ever- 
 lasting being, wrapt in the profoundest lethargy 1 
 
 If we be believers, let us beware. We know 
 our guilt is recorded far beyond this miserable and 
 short-lived scene of existence. The terrific aspect 
 of our temporal affairs, and the judgment to come on 
 a two-edged sword, should rouse and alarm us. 
 Let us provide as we ought against misfortune in 
 e and eternity. 
 
 
i5v 
 
 Let our present sacrifices in support of religion 
 bring future security to our country and security to 
 our souls ! We can avoid the pressure of divine 
 justice, neither here nor hereafter. We must atone 
 or perish. We feel our steps accelerate hence. We 
 want not lessons on the mortality of man. If ever 
 day were learned on the subject, it is that in which 
 we live and breathe. We tread on nothing but ruins. 
 We live, I may say, among tombs. We have seen 
 God every instant blowing on the proudest edifices 
 of prosperity, and laying idols in the dust. Let us 
 not go on blindly in the face of instruction, and be 
 wrecked in pursuit of bubbles. 
 
 Stretch the Gospel as we will, our only business 
 on this earth is, to do good ; is benevolence, is util- 
 ity, is to labour for our salvation and the salvation of 
 others. 
 
 By this rule will every man, of every rank and 
 profession, stand or fall for ever. May God give us 
 to impress this great outline of christian conduct on 
 our hearts ; to guard against the hour that will bring 
 a woeful remedy to all delusion. 
 
 It has fallen to my lot, during a course of many 
 years, to be the constant advpcate of the children 
 before you ; and though my inability to do proper 
 justice to the cause is naturally increased in propor- 
 tion to the frequency of my appearance, I have still 
 the happiness to reflect, that the support they have 
 experienced has been, with little exception, uniformly 
 
2 
 
 153 
 
 great. This leaves me perfectly at ease with res- 
 pect to the result of this appeal. Indeed, an insti- 
 tution so uncommonly numerous as this, one hundred 
 and fifty female orphans, destitute of human protec- 
 ion else, annually supplied with the means of life, 
 a clear proof that there exists a great spirit of 
 mercy in this country ; which wants but the addi- 
 tional spur of public virtue and religion to bring 
 about the extended system of protection to the chiU 
 dren of the poor, which every friend to society, and 
 every true Christian must devoutly wish for : and 
 particularly under the present climax of all vice and 
 disorder among the people. I cannot then, without 
 being guilty of injustice, apprehend, on this occasion, 
 any diminution of your former favours to this insti- 
 tution. 
 
 You have before you the same motives you ever 
 had. And though I should suppose, which I am 
 far from doing, that you were insensible to new con- 
 siderations, that your zeal for religion and morale 
 was no way influenced by any thing you had seen, 
 and had shuddered at, I should yet be assured that 
 your hearts would not suffer you to abandon that 
 which your hearts had impelled you to take up. I 
 know the human character enough, to be convinced, 
 that unaccountable transitions from much feeling to 
 no feeling at all belongs not to it. It is true, the 
 vast and unlimited empire of artificial wants stands 
 too much in the way of the most inherent of all sen 
 timents. 
 
154 
 
 Opulence naturally raises ramparts around men, 
 which confine their eyes to the contemplation of their 
 own enjoyments, and will not let them roam over the 
 calamities of the world. The rich are often unjust- 
 ly accused ; they want not the will, but the freedom 
 to follow nature to the great extent it would lead 
 them. Their hearts are in a fortress, vigilantly 
 guarded by the passions, which misery is generally 
 too feeble to carry. It may possess itself of an an- 
 gle or a bastion, but the victory is seldom complete. 
 Place men however in circumstances where they 
 may feel themselves too strong for the tyranny they 
 are bound in : let them behold with their own eyes, 
 the shocking and inscrutable distinction between 
 their own condition and that being, formed by the 
 same God ; redeemed by the same blood ; destined 
 to the same immortality ; and nature will be instant- 
 ly, and often gloriously vindicated. It is all on the 
 side of mercy, and never I believe was the heart of 
 man insensible to such a consideration, without feel- 
 ing that secret shame, that uncomfortable sensation, 
 which prompts him to get rid of the importuning 
 object, as expeditiously as possible, in order to get 
 rid of himself. 
 
 Who then shall take no interest in these children, 
 that ever received impressions through the eye, or 
 through the medium of reflection? Did innocence 
 come embodied from Heaven, it would not engage 
 us more than in the person of an unprotected female 
 infant. To shield such objects from the blast of 
 vice and misfortune, must be our first thought, our 
 
155 
 
 first impulse on beholding them. They appeal to 
 ♦us, like lambs going to the sacrifice. We feel an 
 horror at abandoning what so clearly appears with- 
 out power to save itself. Our imagination carries us 
 in an instant, through every gradation of the horrid 
 fate that awaits them ; and the more we are shocked 
 at all the extremities of misery and pollution, the 
 more irresistibly are we drawn to the creature that 
 is yet pure ! If we be parents we reflect, by an in- 
 stant and involuntary emotion, on our children, the 
 pride and delight of our eyes ; and, while our hearts 
 are transported at their immaculate purity and secu- 
 rity from shame, we burn to prevent the evil we so 
 much abhor, and communicate the blessing we so 
 much revere. How ! shall we take no interest in 
 the cause>of those children, when we look to future 
 effects of their protection ? See it in a life of peace, 
 of virtue, of character, of respect. See it in a labo- 
 rious assiduity to impress on the hearts of their chil- 
 dren the sacred principles they have received. See 
 it in that gratitude which wearies Heaven for bles- 
 sings on the heads of those who had compassion on 
 their youth. 
 
 Ransack the whole world of pleasure, look for 
 superior enjoyment in vanities, in vices, in all the 
 revelry of the senses, never will you find any equal 
 to the sensation you experience. The delicious tear 
 will steal into the eye at the view of the happiness 
 you have communicated. Oh what a delightful duty 
 is beneficence, and how worthy of being practised 
 actively for our present felicity ! 
 
156 
 
 I dwell not on the darker side of this case. God 
 knows it has no light or shade which, to the best of* 
 my ability, I have not over and over endeavoured to 
 bring before you. Why, then, should I presume to 
 fatigue you with melancholy repetitions ? 
 
 However varied in form, the misfortune you have 
 to prevent is scarce distinguished, by any feature, 
 however revolting, from the misery which lies daily 
 in your path, through every avenue of this vast city ; 
 or what may be concealed from your eye, your ima- 
 gination may well reach, the lingering martyrdom of 
 famine, the loathsomeness of disease. Death striking 
 one wretched victim while it marks another by her 
 side. Imprecations against heaven. The black 
 despair of the expiring ! 
 
 Nay, as I some time ago observed in another 
 place, and have much more reason to observe now, 
 the evil has so increased, that we see, absolutely, 
 children scarce endowed with reason, to whom of- 
 fence is scarce imputable, hurried in swarms down 
 the stream of this infernal torrent. 
 
 Is it in nature not to bleed for these before you, 
 when you reflect on such things? Or did ail the 
 spirit of the Divinity ever appear to breathe on hu- 
 man action, if it be not in support of an institution 
 like this? 
 
 Particular circumstances have occasioned the pre- 
 sent appeal to be brought forward much earlier in 
 
157 
 
 the season than was intended it should. This is a 
 great aud manifest disadvantage ; as many persons 
 of wealth and consideration, who invariably attended 
 on this occasion, are now absent from town. I rely, 
 nay I am sure you will therefore be induced nobly 
 and generously to redouble your exertions. You 
 will not suffer an establishment so long the pride of 
 the metropolis, so cherished and so patronized by 
 all the virtue of the nation, to become the victim of 
 unavoidable casualty. 
 
 I am sensible there are some individuals in the 
 place, not usually resident among us, natives of an- 
 other soil, whose souls, I have had evidence in the 
 case of those who perished in the late rebellion, are 
 as large as their properties are immense. This, I 
 consider a most providential circumstance in this 
 moment of distress. But to you, my friends, the 
 natural, and always ardent protectors of these or- 
 phans, I am bound above all to look, nor shall I ba 
 deceived. True mercy, like true valour, is stimula- 
 ted by difficulties. It rises in proportion to the 
 call upon it ; and it is not such hearts as yours, 
 that will prevent the usual glory of this day from 
 the wretched consideration that it will cost you more 
 than usually dear. 
 
 I will trouhle you no more. You see I have not 
 laboured to excite you ; because I know, from long 
 experience, that your leaning to these fatherless and 
 motherless orphans is peculiar. Perhaps there is 
 not, under heaven, a more glorious and transporting 
 
 U 
 
 # 
 
158 
 
 reflection, than to think that we sit in this place, 
 like so many Divinities, giving, at a word, life, 
 health, present happiness, and immortal bliss, to the 
 most forlorn and friendless of all human creatures. 
 I have done. 
 
 " Glory be to God on high, and peace and good- 
 €i will among men." 
 
SERMON VII. 
 
 [The Love of our Country.] 
 
 Book of Wisdom, c. xii. v. 13. 
 
 For neither is there any God but thou that carest 
 for all. 
 
 TO unite mankind in the bonds of society seems 
 ever to have been a primary object in the designs of 
 God. In the order of nature, we behold his provi- 
 dence anxiously directed to the accomplishment of 
 this great purpose, through the powerful medium of 
 man's necessities, and the instinctive attachment he 
 feels for his species. In the written law there is 
 evidently less attention to define and establish our 
 obligations to him, than to society. All the precepts 
 of the decalogue, with the exception of two, tend 
 clearly to this object. Of the twelve tribes of Israel, 
 he destined but one to the ceremonies of his worship. 
 Of the fruits of the earth he exacted but the first. 
 Of the days of the week he reserved but one sab- 
 bath. The rest he devoted to the felicity of hi? 
 people. 
 
160 
 
 In tbe law of grace, this merciful solicitude is 
 still more evident. For the tendency of the gospel 
 is, obviously, to frame all the inhabitants of the 
 earth into one society ; that society into the nature 
 of one family ; that family, if I may so say, into one 
 heart. " Holy father ! grant that they all may be 
 " one ; as thou art in me, and I in thee. That they 
 "may be one, even as we are one." Such was 
 the most benevolent prayer of our divine master, of 
 whom we may say, with respect to society, what he 
 said of himself, with respect to the ancient law, that 
 he came not to destroy, but to perfect it. 
 
 It appears therefore indubitable, my brethren, 
 that according to the letter and spirit of our religion, 
 we owe to the community of which we are members, 
 and from which we derive every public and private 
 blessing, the most ardent affection, and consequently, 
 the most zealous endeavour, to promote in all things, 
 its happiness, its honour and its glory. This is the 
 subject, on which I propose to offer the few reflec- 
 tions that have occurred to me, on an hasty conside- 
 ration of it, and under the sanction of which, I shall 
 hcg leave in the sequel to submit the claims, rather 
 of the happy than the unfortunate individuals you 
 are assembled to assist. 
 
 I ought to consider it as a circumstance peculiarly 
 fortunate for me on this occasion, that while labour- 
 ing under the disadvantage inseparable from a first 
 appearance, I have to recommend a cafise, too 
 nearly connected with the feelings of every friend to 
 
161 
 
 lis country, nctf to inspire a disposition to hear me 
 with more than ordinary indulgence. 
 
 It has been asserted, my brethren, by the enemies 
 of our religion, that if it do not directly discourage, 
 it does at least, not inculcate the love of our country. 
 Nay, that the sort of zeal it inspires is utterly un- 
 friendly to the interest of every society. As if we 
 had so learned Christ, as to stand detached from all 
 those concerns and connections, by which we are 
 expressly bound to approve ourselves to God ; and 
 as if the law of universal benevolence were a law of 
 unfeeling and unnatural indifference to the interests 
 and happiness of mankind ! 
 
 But such assertions, like a thousand others, from 
 the same source, have been too often, and too ably 
 refuted, to require I should dwell long on them. 
 I am free indeed to acknowledge, that when religion 
 degenerates into superstition and fanaticism, it occa- 
 sionally becomes the source of monstrous and incal- 
 culable evils to society. There is no species of 
 history, which a benevolent man reads with more 
 distress to his feelings, than the history of the 
 church. 
 
 One shudders to think, what scenes of blood and 
 discord have existed at different times in the world, 
 as it were by divine authority. Various and discor- 
 dant parties of Christians, labouring to annoy and 
 extirminate each other, like wild beasts, with un- 
 wearied perseverance and every circumstance of the 
 
162 
 
 most refilled barbarity ; the very shout of persecu- 
 tion and intolerance issuing from the pulpit of God, 
 and the spirit and dye of the Koran transplanted 
 iuto the gospel of peace ! 
 
 Uut as Well might God himself be made respon- 
 sible for such horrors, as the law which expressly 
 reproves and condemns them. Let the answer be 
 recollected, which our blessed Lord made to his 
 disciples, when they required him, in the true spirit 
 of sanguinary bigotry^ to commaud fire from heaven 
 for the destruction of a Samaritan village; "Ye 
 " know not," said he, " what manner of spirit ye are 
 " of." The Sou of Man came not to inspire prin- 
 ciples of hatred and disunion, or cruelty and re- 
 venge, but to till the human bosom with mutual for- 
 bearance and affection. 
 
 What a striking contrast then do all bitter and un- 
 charitable feelings present to the character of Him, 
 who was so eminently the friend of all mankind, 
 and who bequeathed to the world this glorious and 
 immortal senJcnec, "By this shall all men know 
 " that you are my disciples, if you love one another." 
 A sentence, which I most heartily wish, had been 
 written on the frontispiece of all Christian temples, 
 on the walls of the Vatican, on the study of every 
 Christian minister, and in the heart of every Chris- 
 tian ! A sentence, which I am sure, if properly and 
 universally attended to, would have been productive 
 of more solid happiness, honour and glory to nations, 
 than all that is recorded of heroism and greatness, 
 
163 
 
 in the history of human passions ! If the genius of 
 religion be, as its enemies assert, unfriendly to the 
 interests of society, what other principle in the soul 
 shall invariably urge man to promote them ? What 
 is to command those sublime sacrifices, which his 
 country may often require at his hands ? What is to 
 prevent his aspiring to situations which require 
 talent and qualifications to which he may be a stran- 
 ger ? What is to secure an indefatigable attention to 
 his public duties ? or steadily resist the temptation 
 of his bringing his principles to the hammer, and 
 thus basely cementing his private fortune to the in- 
 jury of the common good ? 
 
 Is reason sufficient, or is the natural love of rec- 
 titude, or regard to the world's opinion sufficient, to 
 withstand, on every occasion, the mighty power of 
 personal interest or ambition ? How many men, who 
 talk loudly and finely on the subject of public spirit, 
 are marvellously silenced by the magic of some lu- 
 crative employment, in which the once-flaming pat- 
 riot eats, in opprobrious peace, the oblivion of his 
 shame and degradation ? How often does resentment 
 at unrequited services, or the feeling of disappointed 
 ambition, inspire strenuous opposition to the wisest 
 and most beneficial public measures, and even sug- 
 gest practices directly inconsistent with the peace 
 and order of society ? 
 
 It is very possible, I confess, that man may be 
 urged by some particular passion, whether it be for 
 gold, power, or glory, to great exertions in the sejr- 
 
164 
 
 vice of bis country. But each of those passions, or 
 the union of all, might, according to circumstances; 
 as naturally lead him to attempt its ruin. 
 
 We are not surely blind to examples. He that 
 succeeds by a train of illustrious actions in towering 
 above his fellow-citizens, is too easily transformed 
 into their tyrant. No, my brethren, man, to dis- 
 charge his part properly, whether in his public or 
 private relations, must be supported by a principle 
 more powerful than any he derives from nature or 
 the world. 
 
 Such every day's experience proves to be the 
 feeblest of all resources against his passions. It is 
 from religion alone he can draw that virtue, which 
 nothing can shake ; that real greatness of soul 
 which readily sacrifices repose, property, and life, 
 to the public cause, without a view but the perfor- 
 mance of his duty ; and serves, with the same inva- 
 riable zeal, a grateful or ungrateful country. 
 
 Of this we have a strong instance in the writings 
 of one of the ablest, and most intrepid defenders of 
 Christianity in the fourth century. " Behold !" says 
 lie, addressing himself to the reigning emperor, "the 
 " effects of Christ's doctrine on his followers ! Though 
 " groaning under the most inhuman edicts, we yet 
 u serve with fidelity in your fleets and armies. We 
 u defend your towns, yonr fortresses, your isles, your 
 "provinces, the assemblies of your people, your 
 
165 
 
 u senate, and your palaces. We abandon you only 
 " at the threshold of your temples. 
 
 " Inspect our lives ; what vices are they stained 
 " with ? What virtues are they not adorned with ? 
 " What description of your subjects contributes with 
 "more cheerfulness, from the scanty resources of 
 " poverty, to supply the exigencies of the state ? 
 "Who are less addicted to turbulence and commo- 
 " tion ? What citizens more devoted to their prince? 
 " What soldiers more prodigal of their blood? 
 
 w The support of your throne you have no more to 
 66 reproach us with, unless it be a crime to support 
 u our tyrants, and obey their orders ; unless it be a 
 " crime to mourn in patient silence over the effects of 
 " violated justice and humanity ; and prove the in- 
 u fluence of a divine religion, which, while it prompts 
 a us to deplore and detest your cruelties, yet gene- 
 " rously engages us to range under your eagles, and 
 " expire in your ranks." 
 
 On this passage there needs no comment. If re- 
 ligion be not calculated to inspire the most sublime 
 devotion for our country, in vain shall we hope for 
 it from any other principle under heaven. There 
 is, indeed, a species of public spirit, which every 
 Christian must disclaim and abhor ; because utterly 
 repugnant to the spirit of the gospel. I mean that 
 which lends a mask to an insatiable and merciless 
 system of conquest and aggrandisement, and pur- 
 sues what is called national glory, through torrents 
 
 X 
 
166 
 
 of human blood. What dreadful examples might not 
 be exhibited of this in every age of the world ? Un- 
 fortunately the world has nearly in every age groaned 
 under instances of this damnable conspiracy against 
 the rights and tranquillity of mankind ; and often, 
 too often, have wondering and infatuated nations 
 conferred the title of hero on men who, in the eye of 
 reason, justice and humanity, are no more than the 
 worst scourges of the human race. It is lamentable 
 to think, that the most destructive passions should 
 have ever raised and immortalized man in the mind 
 of man. That, under the sanction of brilliant and 
 successful crimes, his name should proudly pass to 
 posterity, while those virtues, that are the source 
 of every blessing to society, are scarce deemed wor- 
 thy of remark, or are rapidly forgotten. 
 
 Well do nations deserve such masters, when they 
 are dazzled by such glory. Let us now consider 
 the other incentives we have to the love of our coun- 
 try. From our social union it is that we derive all 
 those dear and tender connexions that constitute the 
 leading charms and happiness of human life ; 'that 
 parents, children, brethren, friends, associates, fellow 
 citizens, are all enabled to live and act together, in 
 love and peace, mutual confidence and general secu- 
 rity ; that our inheritance, the fruits of our industry, 
 and reward of our labours, are quietly enjoyed, and 
 freely applied to purposes of benevolence and duty : 
 that under the wholesome administration of (hose 
 laws, which providence hath appointed for our re- 
 fuse and protection, we fear no open violence, and 
 
167 
 
 recur to none for defence and redress ; that we are 
 led to cultivate every honest art and liberal refine- 
 ment of a civil state ; to extend our views and inter- 
 course, and know all the enjoyments arising from a 
 fellowship of things divine and human. 
 
 These are our private blessings. It is not, my 
 brethren, to the sordid and selfish member of society 
 that such considerations are addressed. He who 
 hath not affections strong enough to pierce beyond 
 the wretched circle of his own concerns, will think 
 little of the grateful returns due to his country. If 
 is the heart, full fraught with Christian benevolence, 
 which consults joys in the joys, and sorrows in the 
 sorrows of all around it, that is alone susceptible of 
 true public virtue. 
 
 Suppose a man once divested of all great and ge- 
 nerous feelings ; every principle, however revered, 
 honour, gratitude, friendship, country, even natural 
 affection, will, in the balance of his perverted judg- 
 ment, all be outweighed by interest. The sole rule 
 of his life is the maxim of the Roman satyrist, Mo- 
 ney any how ! money : that is, if the plain and beat- 
 en paths of the world will not conduct him to that 
 end, rather than fail he will fall into every labyrinth 
 of fraud and iniquity. Gorge him as you will, his 
 unslaked soul will still thirst for more. 
 
 As he is insensible to the calamities of his fellow 
 creatures, so the greatest torment he can suffer is an 
 appeal to his mercy. Should he stumble as the Sa- 
 
168 
 
 waritan, on some spectacle of woe, he will resist the 
 honest movements of nature, and, like his worthy 
 brother the Levite, rapidly pass to the other side of 
 the way. 
 
 Suppose him, however, under the unavoidable 
 necessity of listening to the petition of misery, he 
 will endeavour to beat down the evidence of the 
 case, by the meanest shifts and evasions, or cry 
 aloud, like the brutal and insensible Nabal to the 
 hungry soldiers of David, " Why should I be such 
 u a fool as to give my flesh which 1 have prepared 
 u for my shearers, to men I know not from whence 
 " they be." 
 
 But admitting that a remnant of shame, for exam- 
 ple, in the face of a congregation like this, should 
 goad him for once to an act of beneficence ; so un- 
 worthy of the great occasion would it probably be, 
 that the idol of his soul would appear more distinctly 
 in the relief he administers, than in the barbarous 
 insensibility which habitually withholds it. 
 
 Immortal God, what a passion ! and how much 
 ought the power and fascination of that object to be 
 dreaded, which can turn the human heart into such a 
 pathless and irreclaimable desert ? Irreclaimable, I 
 say: for men enslaved by other passions are every day 
 reformed and enlightened by the ministry of religion, 
 or the sober reflection of increasing years. But who 
 will say, that man in the extremity of selfishness was 
 ever reclaimed by human resource ; was ever vuluer- 
 
169 
 
 able to r reproach -; or, I had almost added, eveu, 
 convertible by grace ? No ! through every stage and 
 revolution of life he remains invariably the same. 
 Or, if any difference appear, it is only this, that as 
 he advances into the shade of a long evening, in his 
 frail and sad decline of life, while tottering over a 
 yawning grave, with every other passion long blasted 
 in his heart, he seeks for more pelf with renewing 
 eagerness; holds by a sinking world with an agon- 
 izing grasp, and drops into the earth with the 
 increased curse of wretchedness on his head, without 
 the tribute of a tear, from child, friend, or country ; 
 or any other inscription on the memory of the man, 
 but that he lived to counteract the distributive justice 
 of Providence, and died without hope or title to an 
 happy immortality. 
 
 That there are few examples of so complete a 
 transformation from our natural character, I admit. 
 But, if avarice be rare, Mammon has still numerous 
 adorers of another description ; and, in truth, little 
 difference does it make to the prolific order of 
 misery, whether it be spurned by a heart of ada- 
 mant, or not effectually relieved by those who are 
 no otherwise attached to money, than as the instru- 
 ment of various indulgences. This I fear, my 
 brethren, is a too general case. But I have already 
 departed too far from my subject. 
 
 The next ground for affection for our country, is 
 the wisdom and goodness of its institutions. Under 
 dominion the most arbitrary, there is yet in the hear* 
 
 
170 
 
 of every man an inherent love for the region of his 
 nativity, which nothing can efface : probably founded 
 in early and habitual intimacy with particular scenes, 
 customs, and manners. 
 
 When civil government is more tolerable, the 
 sentiment naturally acquires more ardor, as it flows 
 besides from a sense of some real benefits, and the 
 hope of extending them. But, my brethren, where 
 men live, as we do, under a system of freedom, per- 
 haps, all things considered, the most perfect that ever 
 was, or ever can be devised by human understand- 
 ing ; where the meanest citizen is proudly and justly 
 conscious of a superior lot, in the scale of compari- 
 son with other nations, and treads the ground with 
 nerve and pride, from a sense of his total indepen- 
 dence and inviolable security from power, as to 
 property and person ; where the human mind is free 
 to utter and publish its boldest thoughts on men and 
 things without any controul, but that of laws, to 
 which he has himself consented ; and every thing 
 conspires to call forth all the talent, and energy, and 
 virtue of which human nature is susceptible ; 
 hideously insensible must that mind be which burns 
 not with public afiection ! 
 
 Thank God it is notoriously your character. It 
 would require far other powers than mine, to do jus- 
 tice to the proofs you have given, in the course of a 
 long and bloody contest, for every thing dear and 
 sacred to you as freemen and Christians. The 
 "world has witnessed them ; the enemy felt them. 
 
171 
 
 To look to your limits and population, they would 
 savour of prodigy. Scarce discernible on the map 
 of the earth, your fleets have yet extended from pole 
 to pole, in a series of triumphs, as glorious as unin- 
 terrupted, and collected matter to puzzle the faith of 
 future generations. Wherever your armies have 
 been, they either saw and conquered, or deserved to 
 conquer by boldness of enterprise, and undaunted 
 valour. Some reverse you have known ; it is the 
 fortune of war; but even from reverse you have 
 drawn new energy. 
 
 In the very worst circumstances in which you 
 were, to the astonishment of the world, of your foe, 
 and perhaps your own, you have increased in tone 
 and stature. The longer you persevered in the con- 
 flict, the mightier your designs, the more daring your 
 exploits. 
 
 Such unconquerable spirit could alone arise from 
 the greatness of the object for which you contended. 
 Egypt will remain an everlasting monument of what 
 Britons, and I call the well-affected of both countries 
 by that proud and glorious name, can attempt and 
 accomplish, under climate the most adverse, danger 
 the most awful, and against an enemy vainly assu- 
 ming the title of Invincible. 
 
 In a word ; while among the leading powers of 
 the continent, some early withdrew from the strug- 
 gle, some, for a disgraceful security, tamely submit- 
 ted to the yoke; and others, after a faithful 
 
172 
 
 application of all their energies and resources, found 
 it vain to make head any longer against a resistless 
 torrent, Britain alone, as a rock in the midst of the 
 deep, continued to defy its utmost fury, appearing 
 the more majestic and unimpressible from the wreck 
 and humiliation of nations around her. 
 
 More, my brethren ! Notwithstanding the union 
 of seasons, of nearly famine, with all the calamities 
 of war, not a moment's real interruption to internal 
 order and tranquillity ; the heaviest burdens borne 
 with alacrity and joy. Never did the blood of pat- 
 riotism run higher, than when called upon to make 
 the greatest sacrifices. Not a man in the nation was 
 found base enough to recur to art and ingenuity to 
 to elude them. Even the declared and original ene- 
 mies to the war, as well as they who thought that 
 peace ought to have been earlier accepted, nobly 
 proved that they differed from the mass of their fel- 
 low-citizens only as to the means of securing the 
 happiness of their country. 
 
 From one extremity of your coast to the other, 
 the threatening invader saw and recoiled from a cres- 
 ted and formidable determination to conquer or pe- 
 rish in the threshold. Not all the splendid visions 
 (and visions indeed have they proved,) of fraternity 
 and equality, could shake the firm allegiance and 
 fidelity of a people, whom long experience and sober 
 reflection had instructed rightly to estimate the bles- 
 sings they enjoyed. 
 
173 
 
 That, in the happiest and best constructed socie- 
 ties, some wretches should be found, rebels by na- 
 ture to all rule and government, who, in the prospect 
 of plunder or dominion, would eagerly grasp at any 
 scheme of innovation, whatever horrors it might 
 threaten to engender, cannot be wondered at, since 
 heaven itself nourished serpents in its bosom, who 
 preferred reigning in the abyss, to the fulness of hap- 
 piness in the realms of glory. 
 
 For you, it is enough, that the scanty and misera- 
 ble efforts of disaffection among you sunk under the 
 execration of the many ; or, in other words, were 
 lost and overwhelmed, like spots on the disc of the 
 sun, in the blaze of loyalty and attachment that en- 
 circled the constitution and the throne* Such, my 
 brethren, is a feeble sketch of the proud effects that 
 have resulted from the public virtue of Britons ! Nor 
 do I hesitate to say, that to the invincible stand they 
 have made, true liberty is indebted for still possess- 
 ing one refuge in Europe. It is impossible for the 
 mind not to adore the inscrutable judgments of God, 
 when it beholds a people, after having waded through 
 seas of blood, and run the circle of all conceivable 
 calamity in the seeming pursuit of that inestimable, 
 distinction, return at last to the very point from which 
 they started, gladly reposing under the yoke which 
 they once furiously rent asunder, and hailing with 
 the same voice the restorer of tranquillity and new 
 oppressor of their country. 
 
174 
 
 A solemn and incontestable proof, my brethren, 
 that to attain or preserve the real blessing of liberty, 
 it is indispensably necessary that a nation should be 
 worthy of it ; worthy of it by a reverence for God, 
 and a knowledge of virtues that adorn humanity. 
 Nor is there one evidence on record, of prevailing 
 impiety and corruption of manners being compatible 
 with ought but a state of profound political slavery. 
 
 The austere and virtuous days of the Grecian and 
 Roman common-wealths were the only days of their 
 freedom and glory. And here, my brethren, I am 
 naturally prompted to observe, that " If no nation be 
 " so great, or hath God so nigh unto them as the 
 u Lord our God hath been unto us, in all things 
 " which we have called upon him for ; if no nation 
 "be 'so great, or hath statutes and judgments so 
 " righteous, we should take heed „ to keep our 
 " souls diligently, lest we forget the things which 
 " our eyes have seen, and they depart from our hearts 
 " all the days of our lives." 
 
 Here have you, in the very words of God, a strong 
 and faithful representation of your happy and glo- 
 rious condition, with a solemn admonition to evince 
 a proper sense, and hold in your eternal recollection 
 the source of such peculiar favour and peculiar pro- 
 tection, against the grasp of that gigantic* ambition, 
 which, under the mask of officious zeal for your in- 
 terests, would have added you to the train of its innu- 
 merable victims. Look up, then, to the great example 
 of Christian piety and virtue God has seated on your 
 
175 
 
 throne, and learn from thence ardently to cherish 
 and propagate, as your stations and abilities admit, 
 the principles and practice of true religion amongst 
 you. 
 
 If such be the stay and the staff, the refuge and 
 comfort of every individual, as well as sure support 
 of every society, never forget that your eyes have 
 seen what the detestable philosophy of the times, 
 after long and profound meditation of its projects in 
 solitude and silence, came forth at length to preach 
 and exhibit, to an unenlightened world ; declared 
 impatience of all rule and controul ; a general spirit 
 of inquietude and turbulence ; rooted contempt of all 
 ancient notions ; burning desire of novelties ; youth 
 without restraint, old age without remorse ; nature 
 itself no longer respected ; parents undistinguished 
 by tenderness for their children ; children by the love 
 and reverence of their parents ; women by conjugal 
 fidelity ; citizens by the recollection of their duties ; 
 people by their former simplicity : vice the most 
 abandoned, crimes the most atrocious, held in hon- 
 our and estimation ; shame reserved only for human- 
 ity and virtue ; suicide a received and glorious re- 
 source under private misfortune or political disap- 
 pointment ; anarchy and confusion in all states and 
 connexions ; no fixed and eternal rule of right ; no 
 society ; no God. These are the blessings that issued 
 from a school of superior light and wisdom, to grace 
 and immortalize the happy subversion of Christian- 
 ity! 
 
 
176 
 
 6rreat Rod, what a warning example ! How pe- 
 culiarly should it be felt, when you reflect, not only 
 on the impious liberty, so prevalent amongst men at 
 this day, of ridiculing and rejecting truth the most 
 sacred and evident, from a miserable vanity of ap- 
 pearing to soar above received opinions ; but what 
 is worse, on the notorious industry, with which the 
 most diabolical, if you will pardon the expression, 
 of all productions has been circulated both here and 
 it) Ireland ! 
 
 Under such circumstances, remember, my brethren, 
 that as Christians, and lovers of your country, you 
 owe to the divine system you possess, the most un- 
 qualified support by practice and by word ; not a 
 silent or languid disapprobation of the bile that is 
 cast on it ; but a bold, prompt and manly defence 
 of its interests, in the face of all consequences, with- 
 out respect to persons. Remember that in vain is it 
 taught and announced, or its glory displayed in the 
 temple of God, if it otherwise decline through our 
 slumber and indifference. Remember that when 
 persecuted by tyrants, and forced to seek refuge in 
 the caverns of the earth, no power could yet over- 
 whelm it. The reason is obvious, because every 
 Christian in those days was a model of what he pro- 
 fessed, and a soldier in its defence. Our duty is still 
 the same. We are not indeed called to the same 
 trials. But an inheritance so divine, and so dearly 
 purchased, we are bound intrepidly to guard, and 
 faithfully to transmit. No human consideration can 
 warrant any thing like neutrality, when it is invaded. 
 
177 
 
 a He that is not for me is against me," are the ex- 
 press words of Christ. No middle way, my bre- 
 thren. Open and avowed infidelity is nearly virtue 
 compared to it. To think that we can acquit our- 
 selves to God and his law, without opposing his 
 enemies, is that monstrous compound of faith and 
 apostacy, which drew from the prophet Elijah this 
 bitter reproach to the Jews, " How long will you 
 " halt between two opinions ? If the Lord be your 
 " God, follow him ; if not follow Baal." To hesi- 
 tate and hold back, when honour and conviction call 
 aloud for a manly avowal of our sentiments, may 
 accord with the political morality of the world. But 
 there is a grandeur in the cause of God, that admits 
 only of decided friends, or decided foes. The Chris- 
 tian who tamely permits religion to be reviled in his 
 presence must be despised by the very reviler. 
 
 Zeal is not zeal, if it know any bounds at such a 
 moment. Then it is that we should know no man, 
 according to the world, or the flesh : forget friends 
 and connexions, the rank, the titles, the authority of 
 all who can presume in our presence to forget them- 
 selves. " The fool," says the Gospel, " should be 
 " treated according to his folly ;" and the glory of 
 the most high God promptly avenged for the outrage 
 openly offered him by his vile creature. 
 
 Such is our indisputable duty. Of persons in the 
 higher spheres of life, it is, if possible, more so. 
 They see, too clearly, the happy or destructive in- 
 fluence of their manners and morals, not to be 
 
178 
 
 equally sensible that their countenance to religion is 
 a tower of strength. Persons of inferior degree can do 
 little comparative good or mischief by their example; 
 withdrawn from the fixed attention of the world by 
 the obscurity of their lot> whether they stand or fall, 
 the consequence is, merely or nearly so, to them- 
 selves. They do but edify or infect, if I may say 
 so, within the reach of their arms. But they, whom 
 God has ranked high above the multitude, become 
 infallibly, either instruments to increase or to sap 
 the stock of virtue and morality in the nation. 
 
 On the same principle, according as they are 
 zealous or indifferent in the support of religion, shall 
 the spirit that would overthrow it, unerringly, gain 
 ground, or return abashed from whence it comes, 
 daily experience evinces that eminent piety can pro- 
 duce a degree of reserve in the most profligate and 
 profane. What then must its power be, when joined 
 to the imposing ascendency of station ? Yes, my 
 brethren, one word, nay, one look of rebuke from 
 the union of these distinctions, will often do more to 
 check and arrest the audacious sallies of irreligion, 
 than the most zealous efforts of Christians in inferior 
 station. It is the nature of man to look up for his 
 model; and the world besides makes it often so 
 much his interest to please those above him, that he 
 can assume, for that purpose, virtue to which he is a 
 stranger, or even vices which he detests. To the 
 ministry, above all, religion looks for the most stren- 
 uous support. If indifference in another Christian 
 be criminal, as I have represented it, in men set 
 
179 
 
 apart to encounter every thing for its security and 
 progress, it is surely the very last degree of guilt 
 and baseness. ? Tis theirs therefore, on all occa- 
 sions, to stand forth and resist the enemy as a wall 
 of brass. ? Tis theirs, in and out of the temple of 
 God, to prevent the ruin of the unwary and unin- 
 structed, by boldly unmasking the imposture, and 
 confounding it with its own portrait. 
 
 This, their superior information must enable them 
 triumphantly to do. This ought to be their glory* 
 For, if any thing under heaven can assimilate the 
 human character to the divine, it is the laborious and 
 unremitting dedication of life and talents, to the dif- 
 fusion of truth and virtue among men. 
 
 Thus it was, that even a layman of nearly our 
 own time, the immortal author of the Rambler, ac- 
 counted with God for the great powers he possessed, 
 though not exempt from some weaknesses of this 
 mortal state. What vice, what folly, did he not 
 inexorably lash ? What liberty, the most distant, 
 with sacred things, was he ever known to spare ? 
 Let the enemies of revelation, disconcerted by an in- 
 stance too recent, too palpable to be controverted, 
 of vast knowledge joined to the most zealous and 
 submissive faith, attempt to blacken his great name 
 with the reproach of superstition. I reply, even a 
 glorious superstition, which seldom opened its lips, 
 or put pen to paper, but to make infidels tremble, 
 and support, with gigantic ability, the best interests 
 of his country, and the world. 
 
180 
 
 My brethren, I fear I am detaining you too long, 
 On the occasion of your meeting I shall say little. 
 The ground I took in this discourse was naturally 
 suggested by it; and, though I am conscious of 
 having treated it with much imperfection, I feel con- 
 fident that the result of this hour will do honour to 
 the public virtue of this nation. I should deem it 
 the highest insult that could be offered to that sublime 
 and universal feeling amongst you, did I labour to 
 excite in you such a cause as the present. It is not, 
 as on ordinary occasions, an appeal merely to your 
 mercy, or I should not hesitate to do so. The world 
 and its passions, unhappily, raise too many obstacles 
 to the full and perfect exercise of our duty to the 
 wretched, not to require the utmost efforts in the 
 ministry to enforce it. Though, I thank my God, 
 that even to your eminence in mercy I am not a 
 stranger ; having, on more public occasions than one, 
 in another country, beheld with my own eyes, yes, 
 princely instances of that virtue in many distinguished 
 personages of this. And I am sure that, as long as 
 there remains on earth any reverence for all that is 
 dignified and divine in human benevolence, the me- 
 mory of the aid and protection you have afforded to 
 the unfortunate victims of a memorable revolution, 
 both clergy and laity, can never, never be effaced, 
 
 But, my brethren, great and prompt as your feel- 
 ings of humanity may be, I invoke them not. I look 
 up to a different principle. I commit the cause I 
 have in hand singly, to your patriotism. It is im- 
 possible you should lovs your country to the degree 
 
181 
 
 you have evinced you do, and not burn to pay the 
 last and noblest sacrifice that man can offer to it. If 
 the memory of an Abercrombie can never perish in 
 a British bosom ; if all who have shed immortal lus- 
 tre round the British name, whether in the command 
 of your fleets or armies, be your idols and your 
 boast ; and every reward, every distinction, which a 
 patriot Sovereign has conferred on them, find in your 
 hearts the warmest sanction ; if the return of those 
 brave troops, that fought and conquered in defence 
 of every thing dear and sacred to you as freemen and 
 Christians, be hailed throughout the nation with enthu- 
 siasm and rapture, and art set at work to immortalize 
 their exploits ; this day will be, can be no other, than 
 a day of triumph to the proud and glorious calamity I 
 bring before you. Proud and glorious I call it, since 
 it is all that is left of those who greatly perished in the 
 same cause : the tenderest pledges of departed hus- 
 bands and fathers, the merit of whose blood was, 
 alas ! the only inheritance they had to bequeath them. 
 
 Great God ! what is there to be envied in wealth, 
 if it be not the power to pour it out on such a cause ; 
 if, to pour it out in such a cause be not the first of 
 human enjoyments ! Great wealth is often the lot of 
 the vilest of mankind, as well as yours. It cannot, 
 in itself, render any man truly respected, either 
 alive or dead. It confers not one solitary talent, 
 one solitary virtue. It is unequal to remove one 
 pang from the heart ; one ache from the tooth. It 
 may roll through the public ways in gaudiest mag- 
 nificence, yet sink at the same moment, under the 
 
 Z 
 
 
182 
 
 collected scorn of beholders. The most studied, 
 most luxurious gratifications it can purchase are 
 rapid, and quickly forgotten, and in many, out of 
 the four and twenty hours that constitute the day, 
 namely, the hours of repose, place its possessor on a 
 level with the most destitute of mortals. It leaves 
 us at the approach of the grave. We view it on the 
 bed of death with frozen indifference, or fruitless 
 avidity. Our heirs too often pant for our expiring 
 breath, and, naked, we pass to the embrace of cor- 
 ruption, either woeful victims of perverted gifts, or 
 confident aspirers to the promised and everlasting 
 reward of the benevolent. Now, truly, my brethren, 
 the prophet saith, " there is little judgment in the 
 H goings of man." Imagination, that able impostor, 
 walks him, in search of happiness, from chimera to 
 chimera. The experience of every hour should cure 
 bis delusion. His delusion remains, in spite of ex- 
 perience. Born to ambition, and the possession of 
 infinite good, all his views, all his efforts are yet 
 obstinately directed to deck the little span that in- 
 tervenes between his cradle and his grave. Sorrow, 
 and care, and miserable agitation, become the portion 
 of his days on earth, merely to die overwhelmed 
 with riches, or surrounded with splendour. 
 
 Rapidly, too i;apidly, my brethren, does that pe- 
 riod advance, that will display, in a faithful glass, 
 what shadows we are, and what shadows we may have 
 pursued. Nor does the great globe inherit one ob- 
 ject that could afford us so much consolation at tluu 
 tremendous moment, as the recollection of one cup 
 
 
18S 
 
 of water given to a child of misery in the name of 
 Christ. 
 
 Use, therefore, my brethren, the wealth with 
 which God has so profusely blessed you, in a man- 
 ner honourable to your religion, to human nature, 
 and your country. Use it on this great occasion as 
 you used it on a similar one. Let the immense sub- 
 scription that followed your everlasting triumph on 
 the north seas, stand full in your recollection at this 
 moment, soar as much higher as you will. But deep 
 and eternal would be the ground of self-reproach, 
 did you meet the present claim on you with inferior 
 souls. 
 
 I make no comparison between the different ser- 
 vices. I believe I may say, without doubt, that 
 E^ypt was the grave of your enemies hopes ; that 
 in Egypt you conquered peace, and laid the surest 
 foundation for its permanence and stability, by giving 
 to the world, after a contest of nine long years, unpar- 
 alleled in the annals of time for the complexion of 
 its efforts, the most impressive lesson it had received 
 of the incalculable power, valor and energies of this 
 nation. 
 
 I will trouble you no more. This is the first 
 occasion of my life where the relief of misery was 
 the question, which I deemed it necessary to press 
 on my hearers : a case, in its nature, so irresistible 
 to British hearts, required it. Were my ability 
 great as it is limited, I would not have been, I could 
 
184 
 
 not have been tempted to forget the respect due to 
 such patriotism as yours. May the sanguine expec- 
 tations it leads me to form, be more than realized, 
 and the walls of this hallowed place, till they moul- 
 der into dust, call to the memory and veneration of 
 men, the mighty tribute you will this day lay on the 
 altar of public gratitude and virtue. 
 
SERMON VIII. 
 
 {[For the Relief and Cure of diseased Children, and for Inoc- 
 ulation with the Cow Pox/] 
 
 St. Mark, viii. 36. 
 
 What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
 world and lose his own soul P 
 
 MY brethren, I come not here on this occasion to 
 establish the right, or press the affecting title of the 
 poor to your succour and protection, according to the 
 means with which the peculiar favour of providence 
 hath blessed you. It would be useless to dwell on 
 a duty, which you already perfectly understand, and 
 faithfully practise : or, in other words, to announce 
 the great and eternal obligation of charity, to those 
 whom charity incessantly assembles. 
 
 But, as unfortunately, much anxiety for the world 
 is but too compatible with the ready exercise of that 
 yirtue ; let me, before I enter on the particular pur- 
 pose of this meeting, crave the liberty to offer a few 
 words on that most important of all considerations 
 
186 
 
 expressed in the text. For, it is one, to which every 
 man of common reflection, who believes in a state 
 of future responsibility, ought frequently to direct 
 his view. I am aware, that to urge the uncertainty 
 of life, and certainty of judgment, as the strongest of 
 all motives to reasonable thinking on the real value 
 of all perishable things, the objects of human pride 
 and ambition, is little suited to the habits and opin- 
 ions of many nominal Christians ; and that, even 
 the majority of those who have not arrived at that 
 degree of hardihood, which laughs equally at what 
 reason or revelation says on the point, are yet so 
 unaccountably deluded, as to entertain more than an 
 hope of finding in the clemency of God, a positive 
 security against the experience of that judgment. 
 
 Fatal and unsupported idea ! that has gone, I am 
 convinced, more than all other causes united, to ren- 
 der Christianity, what we too generally behold k 
 this day, with inconsiderable exceptions in any con- 
 dition of life, or in any profession, sacred or other- 
 wise, a system of easy accommodation with every 
 object that selfishness grasps at, ambition climbs for, 
 or invention has produced in the wide common of 
 dissipation and folly. 
 
 And here, my brethren, let me put a question to 
 your candor, though not immediately connected with 
 my subject. Do you conceive, that the sacred season 
 of Lent, a season consecrated by Jesus Christ to 
 fasting, solitude and prayer, and peculiarly set apart 
 to bring ns back by the same means to the true stand- 
 
187 
 
 ard of our calling, ought to have witnessed a species 
 of public amusement, known by all experience to be 
 of the most licentious tendency, and often fatal to 
 the morals and innocence of youth, where under the 
 mask of concealment, all distinction is levelled be- 
 tween pure and impure, and the ears of modesty 
 securely assailed with language which it ought never 
 to have heard, and may never forget? 
 
 Let it be remembered, however, and here I resume 
 my subject, that whatever our habits, or opinions of 
 divine placability may be, if the religion we profess 
 be from God, it lies not with man to alter or modify 
 an iota of its letter. Every thing human admits of 
 change and vicissitude. States and empires, arts 
 and sciences, customs and manners, laws and gov- 
 ernments, feel, without ceasing, this inevitable prin- 
 ciple acting upon them. God, from the throne of his 1 
 immutability, sees all the works and enterprises of 
 man ; and, willing to shew us the little value we 
 should set on things perishable, has decreed that 
 there should be nothing permanent on the face of the 
 earth, but the very vicissitude that marks and agi- 
 tates it. 
 
 But, in the midst of this scene of continual revo- 
 lution, the scriptures remain unchangeable as the 
 source from whence they spring. Such as the first 
 Christians received and understood them, such are 
 they at this hour ; and such will they be when the 
 heaven and earth have, passed away. Neither the 
 
188 
 
 force or corruption of times can render theni more 
 austere, or more indulgent. 
 
 They form that everlasting and immutable system, 
 announced in the revelation of St. John, " x\nd I 
 " saw another angel from the midst of the heavens, 
 " bearing in his hand the everlasting Gospel, to 
 " preach unto all who dwell upon the earth, and to 
 44 every nation and kindred, and tongue and people, 
 u saying with a loud voice, Fear God and give glory 
 "unto him, for his judgment is come." 
 
 My brethren, the true source of all our delusion is a 
 false and deceitful security of life. Thousands pass 
 to their account around us, and we are not instructed. 
 Some are struck in our very arms ; our parents, our 
 children, our friends, and yet we stand as if we had 
 shot into the earth an eternal root. Even the most 
 sudden transitions from life to dust, produce but a 
 momentary impression on the dust that breathes. 
 No examples, however awful, sink into the heart. 
 Every instant we see health, youth, beauty, titles, 
 reputation, and fortune, disappear like a flash. Still 
 do we pass gaily on, in the broad and flowery way, 
 the same busy, thoughtless, and irreclaimable beings, 
 panting for every pleasure as before, thirsting for 
 riches and pre-eminence ; rushing on the melancholy 
 ruins of one another ; intriguing for the employments 
 of those whose ashes are scarce cold ; nay often, I 
 fear, keeping an eye on the very expiring, with the 
 infamous view of seizing the earliest moment to so- 
 licit their spoils. 
 
189 
 
 Great God ! as if the all- devouring tomb, instead 
 of solemnly pronouncing on the vanity of all human 
 pursuits, on the contrary, emitted sparks to rekindle 
 all our attachment to a perishable world ! Let me 
 suppose, my brethren, that the number of man's days 
 r were inscribed on his brow ! Is it not clear that an 
 awful certainty of that nature must necessarily beget 
 the most profound and operative reflection ? Would 
 it be possible to banish, even for a moment, the fatal 
 term from his reflection ? The nearer he approached 
 it, what an increase of alarm ! What an increase of 
 light on the lolly of every thing but immortal good ! 
 Would all his views and aspirings be confined, as 
 they now are, to the little span that intervenes be- 
 tween his cradle and his grave ; and care, and anxi- 
 ety, and miserable agitation be his lot, merely to die 
 overwhelmed with riches, and blazing with honours? 
 
 Had I, my brethren, such a register before me at 
 this moment, with what an invincible effect should I 
 not call those to mercy, who have perhaps but a year, 
 perhaps a month, perhaps a week, perhaps a shorter 
 interval, between them and judgment! And yet, un- 
 happily, we experience, that knowledge as to the 
 
 i period of our dissolution, whose evident and indubi- 
 table tendency would be to suppress every inordinate 
 passion, and render us melting as day to the neces- 
 
 i sities of our fellow creatures, changed into uncertain- 
 ty, a circumstance far more alarming, since we are 
 
 i liable every moment to surprise, has a tendency di- 
 rectly the reverse ; a tendency to feed and keep alive 
 
 | every foolish and vicious affection 5 to embody ever^ 
 
190 
 
 vision ; to do away the most powerful of all Incen- 
 tives to mercy, and rock us into a profound and woful 
 security. In a word, because we are ignorant of 
 that hour, which we yet know to he inevitable, we 
 adopt the wretched and inconsiderate consolation of 
 the rich man in the context ; u Let us eat, drink, 
 " and be merry, for we have laid up much goods for 
 * many years." But God said, " Thou fool, this 
 " night thy soul shall be required of tbee: then, whose 
 " shall those things be which thou hast provided ? ? * 
 
 I confess that, however unaccountable it may be, 
 many a Christian is deluded to lose sight of the one 
 thing needful. There is some allowance, perhaps, 
 to be made for youth, that boiling season of life, 
 when all the passions are impetuous, and the attrac- 
 tions of the world so intimately felt, and so naturally 
 obeyed. But to see men,, as they decline from their 
 meridian, burning fiercer and fiercer for that world, 
 shocking the wrinkles on their brow by an insatiable 
 desire for more wealth and distinction ; sacrificing 
 their glorious reversionary hopes for acquisitions and 
 attainments, that are on the point of being torn from 
 them ; promising themselves a kind of immortality 
 here, as long as they behold a single being one step 
 nearer to the grave, is such au horrible perversion 
 of reason and religion, as places it out of the ordinary 
 exertion of the power of God to enlighten and save 
 them. 
 
 This much we all know, that whatever length of 
 days we promise ourselves, go we must ; and, what 
 
191 
 
 is perhaps equally certain, at the moment we least 
 expect it. Even examples of instant death in all 
 the vigor of health, in the very bosom of security, 
 are far from being uncommon. The scythe is sus- 
 pended over our heads by a slender and impercepti- 
 ble thread, which many causes, internal and external, 
 often dissever, without allowing us a breath for re- 
 collection. But admitting that a misfortune so ter- 
 rible is the lot of the fewer number, we are not, 
 therefore, a whit more secure from surprise. There 
 is not one individual in ten thousand, when obliged 
 to lie down under illness, however alarming, who 
 can bring himself to believe it will prove fatal. 
 
 No ! wedded to this miserable scene of existence, 
 our hopes are afloat to the last. The understanding, 
 clear in every other point, casts not a ray on the na- 
 ture of our condition, however desperate. Too fre- 
 quently it happens, that every one around us at that 
 awful moment, conspires to uphold this state of de- 
 lusion. They shudder for us in their hearts, yet 
 talk to us of recovery with their lips, from a princi- 
 ple of mistaken, or, to give it its proper name, of 
 barbarous lenity. The most important of all truths 
 is with-held, till it is of little use to impart it. The 
 consequence is obvious. We are surprised, fatally 
 surprised. Our eyes are only opened when they are 
 ready to close for ever. Perhaps an instant of re- 
 flection to be made the most of; perhaps to be divi- 
 ded between the disposition of worldly affairs and 
 the business of eternity ! An instant of reflection, 
 Just God ! to bewail an entire life of disorder ! fr 
 
192 
 
 inspire faith the most lively, hope the most firm, love 
 the most pure ! An instant of reflection, perhaps for 
 a sinner whom vice may have infected to the very 
 marrow of his bones ; when reason is half eclipsed, 
 and all the faculties palsied by the strong grasp of 
 death. Oh, my brethren, terrible is the fate of those, 
 who are only roused from a long and criminal secu- 
 rity, by the sword of his divine justice already gleam- 
 ing in their eyes. Remember, that if any truth in, 
 religion be more repeatedly pressed on us than ano- 
 ther, it is this:— that as we live, so shall we inevitably 
 die. Few of us, I am sure, but live in the intention 
 of throwing an interval of most serious reflection be- 
 tween the world and the grave. But let me warn 
 you on that point. It is not given to man to bestow 
 his heart and affection on the present scene, and re- 
 call them when he pleases. No ; every hour will 
 draw our chains closer. Those obstacles to better 
 practice, which we find insuperable at this moment, 
 will be more insuperable as we go on. It is the 
 property of years to give wide and immoveable root 
 to all passions. The deeper the bed of the torrent, 
 ihe more impossible to change its course. The older 
 and more inveterate a wound, the more painful the 
 remedy,, and more desperate the cure. 
 
 You may judge how far any rooted vice will yield 
 fo age, by that propensity which age might naturally 
 be expected to extinguish. Who ever knew a pro- 
 fessed libertine, who grew not more scandalously 
 unblushing and incorrigible in his decline ; like 
 Chose burning mountains, which contain within their. 
 
193 
 
 bowels unextinguishable fires under crowns of snow? 
 The extreme folly, therefore, of building on a future 
 period, is clear and verified by a lamentable string 
 of experience. But independent of this, how can 
 we persuade ourselves that he, who expressly de- 
 mands pure and voluntary sacrifices, will be satisfied 
 with those that are made at last from mere terror and 
 necessity? "You take," says the prophet Isaias, 
 addressing himself to the worshippers of idols, " a 
 u cedar from the top of Lebauus, and devote the 
 " finest part of it to the ornament of your palaces, 
 " and not knowing what to do with the remainder, 
 " you shape it into a god." Precisely the case of 
 many Christians, who, while they devote the largest 
 and most flourishing portion of their days to the in- 
 dulgence of vice or folly, are mad enough to think, 
 that no more is required to secure an eternal interest, 
 than offering up to God the vile leavings of the 
 world. 
 
 But, if danger be not apprehended while the thun- 
 der of heaven rolls at a distance, believe me, when 
 it shall collect over our heads, we may be fatally 
 convinced, that a well-spent life is the only conduc- 
 tor that can avert the bolt. Let us reflect, that time 
 waits for no man. Sleeping, or waking, our days 
 are on the wing. If we look to those that are past, 
 they are but as a point. When I compare the present 
 aspect of this city with that which it exhibited with- 
 in the short space of my own residence, what does 
 the result present, but the most melancholy proof of 
 human instability ? New characters in every scene j 
 
194 
 
 new events, new principles, new passions, a new 
 creation insensibly arisen from the ashes of the old. 
 Which-ever side I look, the ravage of death has 
 nearly renovated all. Scarcely do we look around 
 us in life, when our children are matured, and remind 
 us of the grave. The great feature of all nature is 
 rapidity of growth and declension. Ages are renew- 
 ed, but the figure of the world passeth away. God 
 only remains the same. The torrent that sweeps 
 along, runs at the base of his immutability. And he 
 sees, with indignation, wretched mortals, as they pass 
 along, insulting him by the visionary hope of sharing 
 that attribute which belongs to Him alone. 
 
 It is to the incomprehensible oblivion of our mor- 
 tality, that the world owes all its fascination. Ob- 
 serve for what man toils. Observe what it often 
 costs him to become rich and great. Dismal vicissi- 
 tudes of hope and disappointment ! Often all that 
 can degrade the dignity of his nature, and offend his 
 God ! Study the matter of the pedestal, and the in- 
 stability of the statue. Scarce is it erected, scarce 
 presented to the stare of the multitude, when death, 
 starting like a massy fragment from the summit of a 
 mountain, dashes the proud Colossus into dust. 
 Where then is the promised fruit of all his toil ? 
 Where the wretched and deluded being, who fondly 
 promised himself that he had laid up much goods 
 for many years? Gone, my brethren, to his account ; 
 a naked victim, trembling in the hands of the living 
 God ! Yes, my brethren, the final catastrophe of all 
 human passions, is rapid as it is awful. Fancy 
 
195 
 
 yourselves on that bed from which you never shall 
 arise, and the reflection will exhibit, like a true and 
 faithful mirror, what shadows we are, and what 
 shadows we pursue. Happy they who meet that 
 great, inevitable transition, full of days ! Unhappy 
 they who meet it but to tremble and despair ! Then 
 it is, that man learns wisdom : when too late. Then 
 it is that every thing will forsake him but his vir- 
 tues or his crimes. To him the world is past ; dig- 
 nities, honours, pleasure, glory ; past like the cloud 
 of the morning ! Nor could all that the great globe 
 inherits, afford him, at that tremendous hour, as much 
 consolation as the recollection of having given but 
 one cup of cold water to a child of wretchedness, in 
 the name of Jesus Christ ! 
 
 I now turn to the purpose of our meeting. When 
 I consider the uncommon flow of mercy in this me- 
 tropolis, the vast benefits it has produced, and is daily 
 producing, that instead of being wasted by its pro- 
 fusions, it even grows under growing attempts to 
 exhaust it ; it is unnecessary to say, that I now calk 
 on you with confidence, in support of an object, per- 
 haps, the most sacred and important in the whole 
 possible embrace of that virtue, namely, the preser- 
 vation of the life of man. Did I look to no more 
 than the very auspice under which this institution 
 presents itself to the religion and feelings of the pub- 
 lic, it would be enough to impress me with the most 
 exalted idea of its merits. But let the matter speak 
 for itself, and prove, that amidst the many splendid 
 and flourishing monuments of mercy established 
 
 
196 
 
 among us, there was still another wanting to vindi- 
 cate, in the widest field, the providence of God in the 
 relief and preservation of his creatures. 
 
 Most of those who hear me, may recollect the 
 melancholy cause of the reform that has taken place 
 in the hospital for foundlings. Far be it from me 
 to revive the memory of things, which, for the hon- 
 or of human nature, ought to be covered with a veil 
 of everlasting oblivion. This much however will I 
 say, that as long as humanity holds a place in the 
 human soul, or any interest is felt in the treatment or 
 existence of these most wretched of all creatures, 
 who are abandoned from the womb to the protection 
 and commiseration of the community, the community 
 should look up with unbounded reverence and grati- 
 tude, to those women of distinction, who, since the 
 period of that reform, have assiduously visited and 
 superintended that merciful institution in weekly 
 rotation, as well as the man whose peculiar profes- 
 sional skill and experience in the treatment of dis- 
 eased children, freely and iudefatigably applied, has 
 been the means of snatching thousands of those un- 
 happy foundlings from death by inches. 
 
 My brethren, the institution for which I plead, is 
 an emanation from that divine spirit of benevolence 
 which saved the former. The vast harvest of life 
 which followed from its vigilance and exertions, first 
 suggested the idea of extending the same salvation 
 through the metropolis and its environs. It was 
 found impossible to reflect on the innumerable fa- 
 
197 
 
 stances of infantine disease and death, that must ne- 
 cessarily take place in so vast a circle, without pro- 
 posing the remedy to a public, whose heart and hand 
 have ever been open to meet calamity of the lightest 
 shade. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 25th March 4800, this in- 
 stitution arose, ardently countenanced by those ex- 
 alted characters, who bad seen and shuddered at its 
 necessity, and since honored by the guardianship or 
 special protection of her, whom the poor of this me- 
 tropolis will remember, when her station and exis- 
 tence have passed away, whose advice, medicine anjl 
 surgical assistance has since been administered with- 
 out distinction or recommendation ; and where such 
 spectacles of disease and distortion have presented 
 themselves, and presented themselves in such 
 swarms, as no eye could behold without astonish- 
 ment, or human feeling witness without horror. 
 
 lleceive not this as the language of exaggeration, 
 If I speak to you with warmth on a subject fitted to 
 inspire it in the coldest heart, facts, and nothing but 
 facts, are my authority and my spur. What motive 
 could I have in attempting to. deceive ? To enjoy the 
 glory of a great result as a Christian, I ought to 
 dread such a feeling ; as a minister of the living 
 God, I ought to despise it. To him alone be all 
 honor and glory ! 
 
 But your opinion of the inviolable truth and cor- 
 rectness of my statements is indispensably necessary 
 
198 
 
 to the success of my ministry, and consequently to 
 the interests of my unfortunate fellow creatures. 
 And if I may judge from the past, that opinion you 
 will, on the present occasion, entertain. Were it in 
 the power of the man to whom I have alluded, and 
 whose gratuitous attendance has been bestowed on 
 this institution, from its foundation to the present 
 hour, to bring before you the cases which his eyes 
 have seen, and his skill and perseverance relieved, 
 you would then see, in its true colours, with all its 
 afflicting circumstances, what an object you stand 
 here to support. 
 
 Wide is the difference between the effect of des- 
 cription, and that of reality. The most glowing pic- 
 ture of human wretchedness is but a picture still ; 
 inevitably deficient in a thousand nameless points of 
 appeal to commiseration. And, when it is consi- 
 dered, that language has no terms on the subject, 
 but what long and painful necessity has rendered 
 familiar to every ear ; manifest must the disadvan- 
 tage be under which the pulpit labours on all occa- 
 sions of this nature. 
 
 Perhaps the more novel and heart-breaking the 
 case it has to represent, the more apprehension it 
 has to entertain of failing in the execution, both from 
 want of appropriate colours, and want of faith in its 
 hearers. Nor do I conceive any thing absolutely 
 less attainable iu the function I exercise, than the 
 power of bringing the conceptions of the happy and 
 
199 
 
 prosperous, to the level of calamities that are out of 
 common experience. 
 
 Alas, my brethren, there are many great, and ma- 
 ny rich around me at this moment, who may possibly 
 live in the practice of many virtues, and transcendent- 
 ly, of mercy, yet remain, to their dying day, with 
 knowledge as imperfect of the true melancholy side 
 of human nature, as if God had intended to spare 
 them discoveries, that must necessarily go to disturb 
 the tranquil enjoyment of the peculiar blessings he 
 has conferred upon them. 
 
 Suffice it, my brethren, plainly to state that within 
 the three years that constitute the age of this insti- 
 tution, no less a number than thirteen thousand eight 
 hundred poor infants have been rescued by it, not 
 merely from a state of extreme suffering, but the 
 great majority from otherwise inevitable death ; and 
 thus restored to the bosoms of their disconsolate pa- 
 rents, who, whatever the rigour of their conditions 
 may be, are equally alfYe with us to the feelings of 
 nature, and even more affectingly concerned in the 
 preservation of their offspring : since to them alone 
 they have to look, for the support of their age and 
 alleviation of its infirmities. 
 
 Nor do I include in that number, astonishing as 
 it is, multiplied cases, which could not, from their 
 nature, be admitted to present themselves, in the 
 common train, at the doors of the institution ; name- 
 ly, unfortunate mothers with their infants, victims 
 
200 
 
 ©f the vices of fathers, and literally I may say, 
 falling to pieces, from the dreadful and neglected 
 effects of a disorder, I shall not name ; all of whom 
 have been attended aud supplied with the means of re- 
 covery at their homes, where recovery was possible. 
 
 Even numerous instances have occurred, where 
 the criminal author of such calamity, sharing at the 
 same time, the mercy extended to his innocent wife 
 and child, has not only thereby been enabled, while 
 under cure, to contribute to the support of a nume- 
 rous family, by his industry within doors, who must 
 otherwise have been cast out to beggary and ruin ; 
 but likewise been led by the opportunity of reflection, 
 on the sad consequences of his misconduct, constantly 
 before his eyes, to the perfect reformation of a life of 
 idleness, drunkenness and vice. 
 
 Let it further be observed, that did this institution 
 barely go to prevd t, in the rising generation, those 
 shocking examples of distortion and deformity, so 
 burdensome to the public, and so common among 
 the poor, as to meet the eye and affect the feelings at 
 every turn of our streets, that circumstance alone 
 would be sufficient to ensure to it the support of every 
 man with common humanity, or common regard to 
 the good of the community. 
 
 But what an accession of strength must the appeal 
 to you still receive, when you retlect on the almost 
 incalculable effect in the preservation of life, of com- 
 jajuuicating, as this institution does, in the mostextou- 
 
201 
 
 give manner, the benefit of vaccine inoculation to 
 the children of the poor, throughout the metropolis 
 and its environs ; besides transmitting, for the same 
 purpose, the matter of this infection, in its most ac- 
 tive and perfect state, to the faculty of every town in 
 the nation ? As to its being an infallible preservative 
 against that dreadful pestilence, the natural small- 
 pox, which has so long thinned and afflicted the 
 world, demonstration is the proof. For, in the whole 
 experience of the institution, and the Foundling Hos- 
 pital, in the course of which thousands and thousands 
 have been inoculated, not one solitary example of 
 the contrary has occurred, though every possible ex- 
 periment has been made to establish the fact for the 
 benefit of the community and mankind. Nay, such 
 is the confidence and conviction of Mr. Creighton, 
 the inoculator of immense numbers, that children 
 have been laid, as he has expressly informed me, 
 with perfect security, in the very bed with those who 
 laboured under the confluent small-pox. It may be 
 important here to observe, that the great discoverer, 
 or, at least, introducer of this public blessing, relates 
 several cases that took place long before its adoption 
 in medical practice was dreamed of, and which, con- 
 sequently, have the support of the most impartial 
 testimony, where persons in the dairy counties of 
 England, who contracted the infection when young, 
 by milking infected animals, were afterwards fre- 
 quently exposed, without effect, to the contagion of 
 the small-pox ; the distance of time, as he says, be- 
 tween the first infection and the subsequent attempts 
 to infect, being twenty, thirty, and even fifty years. 
 
202 
 
 Of the state of this practice in England I need 
 not speak ; it being now universally recurred to, and 
 all incredulity on that subject totally done away : 
 as well from the candid of the whole faculty, as the 
 most decisive and uninterrupted experience of its 
 efficacy. I even see in the last report of the Jennerian 
 Society, that so large a sum as two thousand four 
 hundred and ninety-seven pounds has been already 
 collected for its diffusion among the poor. Nor can 
 there, I trust, under God, a reasonable doubt be en- 
 tertained of the speedy and total extirpation in both 
 countries, of a disorder, perhaps the most formidable, 
 loathsome, and destructive that ever scourged the 
 human race. It is impossible for me to lay down 
 the precise number that perished annually by its 
 ravages, in this city and about it, as no bills of mor- 
 tality appear. But when we consider, that much 
 more than one half of its population consists of wretch- 
 ed families, confined to single rooms, consequently 
 without the means of insulating infected persons, or, 
 in other words, of preventing the spreading of conta- 
 gion, whose vehicle is not merely contact, but likewise 
 breath and effluvia, it is clear, that the fatality in that 
 way must have been immense, as well as most de- 
 plorable in its circumstances. 
 
 Were I to strike an average from the little dif- 
 ference that has appeared in the opinions of those 
 whom I have consulted, 1 should, I am sure, be 
 much below the mark in stating it at six or seven 
 thousand annually, within the metropolis and its en- 
 virons alone. I leave you therefore to decide, my 
 
203 
 
 brethren, how far the certain remedy to such an evil, 
 a remedy which God in his infinite goodness has 
 revealed to the world, is entitled to your support. 
 
 On the various other effects of this great institution 
 I have already sufficiently dwelt. You will recall 
 them. My task is now discharged. With respect 
 to yours my mind is perfectly at rest. But, what- 
 ever the event may be, I confidently appeal to the 
 inmost soul of every hearer in this place, whether, 
 on a view of the whole case, a clearer or stronger 
 claim to human mercy was ever preferred in or out 
 of the temple of God. 
 
 To me it owes nothing but bare statement ; nor, 
 in the course of sixteen years experience, did I ever 
 meet any occasion but this, where the simple subject 
 superseded the necessity of attempting, or, more 
 properly speaking, left me without power to convey 
 the feeling it inspired. And if such has been (as I 
 hope for divine favour) its absolute impression on 
 me, what must it be on you, who are in the daily 
 habits of giving much more substantial proof of what 
 you can feel in the cause of wretchedness? And 
 may this day exhibit a glorious proof, that though 
 the lives of God's creatures are a consideration light 
 as air, in the scale of restless and insatiable ambi- 
 tion, their preservation is yet the dearest and most 
 sacred of all objects to- the heart of true religion and 
 humanity ! 
 
204 
 
 And now to God the Father, God the Son, and 
 God the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, for 
 ever and ever. Amen. 
 
MMK 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 [For St. Werburg'a Parish School, January 22, 1804.] 
 Romans, x. 3. 
 
 For I bear record that they have the zeal of Godo 
 
 * 
 
 SUCH is the principle, my brethren, which re- 
 ligion displays in its true servants ; such is the prin- 
 ciple which at once shames our indifference, and 
 spurs us to a noble and decided interest in the cause 
 of God ; such is the principle which laid the foun- 
 dation and raised the superstructure of Christianity, 
 that mighty colossus, which still rears its head amidst 
 the ruins of empires, the revolution of ages, and tor- 
 rent of human passions ! 
 
 Zeal, the source of all elevation in heaven and 
 earth ! the crown and consummation of righteousness, 
 the purest emanation of love ! Zeal, that raises man 
 above himself; strips him of all fear; endues him 
 with all courage ; burns in his expressions, and 
 sparkles in his life ; bears him to his end with ir- 
 resistible impetuosity ; the scourge of impiety and 
 
 2 e 
 
206 
 
 disorder, the inflexible pillar of religion and virtue ! 
 Can a principle so sublime be compatible with the 
 kindness of humanity? 
 
 Yes, my brethren, it formed the character of Saint 
 Paul, the man chosen by God to waft his name to 
 the extremities of the earth. Powerful in works and 
 word, the living model of all Christian virtues ; be- 
 coming all to all in order to gain all ; full of bounty 
 and tenderness to the weak ; terrible to those whom 
 no remonstrance could reclaim ; without elevation in 
 his intercourse with the simple and lowly ; dignified 
 and majestic before the great ; capable of enduring 
 every thing for the faith ; producing by bold and 
 unslackened efforts the most astonishing revolutions 
 in the minds and hearts of men ; fulminating at error 
 when it was sustained by all the various and fasci- 
 nating superstition of idolatry, all the subtleties of a 
 vain philosophy, all the powers of eloquence, all 
 the charms of poetry, all the force of prejudice and 
 passion, all the might and authority of the Roman 
 empire. What evils, what trials did he not encoun- 
 ter in the prosecution of his great design ? Repeat- 
 edly journeying in the extreme rigour of seasons, 
 traversing seas in the midst of furious tempests, tra- 
 duced before tribunals, confined in the gloom of 
 dungeons, scourged like the vilest malefactors ; me- 
 naced with death in a thousand forms : at last seal- 
 ing with his blood that glorious cause which his zeal 
 had impelled him so gloriously to maintain ! 
 
207 
 
 During a course of several centuries the same 
 spirit universally prevailed ; from the noble matron 
 and senator, down to the meanest slave. Zeal formed 
 a chain, every link of which was equally bright and 
 burnished. Every maxim and passion of the world 
 which self-love had engendered, and ages conse- 
 crated, were rigidly banished from this extraordinary 
 society of men. Love and charity, the most un- 
 bounded, were its soul ; patience and meekness its 
 only strength ; poverty, abasement, and suffering, its 
 only glory. From the bosom of God it cast an eye 
 on the universe, of deep disdain, at the rapid wheel 
 of all its enterprises and allurements. The cruelty 
 of tyrants became fatigued with endless victims, 
 whose ashes emitted sparks to feed the eternal fire 
 of zeal ; and the conception of mankind stood still 
 at the appearance of fidelity and virtue, morals and 
 sell-denial, above the level of humanity ! 
 
 Such constancy prompted eagerness of inquiry 
 into their source, and the result proved most glorious 
 to the cause. Its abashed enemies and persecutors 
 yielded to the irresistible power of truth. Religion 
 finally triumphed, and waved its banners on the ruins 
 of idolatry ; and the world, and the world's master 
 bowed at once to the name of Christ ! 
 
 Such are the recorded efforts of Christian zeal. 
 I stop not to examine the causes of the succeeding, 
 and too general declension from that great principle. 
 It is enough for us to know that the misfortune ex- 
 ists. Perhaps the destiny of the Christian world 
 
208 
 
 hangs this moment on the exercise of great virtues 
 within the bosom of this single empire. that it 
 may be destined, in the designs of God, to stop the 
 devouring course of ambition and its crimes, and co- 
 ver the cause of religion, society, and human nature, 
 with glory ! 
 
 If we be sincere in our belief and profession of & 
 divine religion, and well assured in its power of re- 
 gulating the private and public duties of men, what 
 motives have we not for zeal the most unbounded iu 
 its support. 
 
 Let us therefore earnestly invoke, and labour to 
 acquire a distinction so ail'ectingly called for, sq 
 powerful in its operation, and so inestimable, as you 
 have seen, in its effects. But it will be necessary 
 to distinguish and reflect on its true charaeteristicks, 
 which I reduce to three. First, the perfect example 
 of a Christian life. Secondly, the firm resistance of 
 error. Thirdly, the instruction of the ignorant, but 
 particularly the young and friendless. On those I 
 shall beg leave briefly to address you. 
 
 It is more than mockery, my brethren, particularly 
 hi these times, to make a parade of zeal or work, 
 authority for the interest of religion and virtue. Un- 
 less example shine in the van to prove our sincerity, 
 nothing else can or will ever convince an ignorant and 
 dissolute multitude, that iu all our attempts to reform 
 we are not merely playing off a political engine for 
 private purposes. 
 
^09 
 
 Zeal without practice would nearly amount to say- 
 ing to offenders, it is necessary that you should re- 
 press your passions ; that you should serve God with 
 fidelity and exactness ; appear in his temples ; bear 
 his law in your hearts, and learn to know that an 
 awful responsibility awaits you, in order that those 
 who call themselves your betters, may with greater 
 security enjoy the reign of profaneness, luxury, prodi- 
 gality and vice. Men will invariably judge of the 
 tree by its fruits, nor ever be allured to duty by a 
 zeal that carries with it its own refutation. 
 
 To authorize an enterprise, so sacred yet so deli- 
 cate, as that of reforming others, it must be supported 
 by a degree of regularity and merit, at least equal to 
 that which we exact. 
 
 Many are the lessons which our blessed Lord has 
 given us on this subject ; but one remarkably strong, 
 in the case of the woman taken in adultery. Though 
 her crime was manifest, and her punishment exactly 
 laid down, it yet filled his just soul with indignation, 
 to see men so criminal as the Pharisees, the slaves 
 of every passion, under the mask of extraordinary 
 zeal, standing forward, with clamour and eagerness, 
 to avenge the violated law. He therefore answered 
 them in a way not to palliate the offence, but, which 
 strikingly conveyed the indispensable concomitant of 
 true zeal ; " Let the man who is without sin amongst 
 # you, cast the first stone at this unfortunate woman." 
 A decision too pointed not to have a most apt and a 
 most humiliating effect. For, as the Evangelist re- 
 
210 
 
 ports, they retired one after another silent and con- 
 founded. 
 
 Hence it is that St. Paul exhorts all Christians to 
 prove their zeal by their works. But peculiarly 
 those who, being bound by special relations or en- 
 gagements, to answer for the spiritual improvement 
 of others, derive from thence a double and terrible 
 obligation before God, of applying, above all things, 
 to their own perfection, in order to render themselves 
 capable of effectually discharging the higher duty 
 imposed on them. 
 
 Thus, ministers of the Gospel, he declares, should 
 be exempt from the very shadow of stain. Lest pro- 
 fligates appeal from their instructions to their morals, 
 and confound them with the reproach of, " Physician, 
 " heal thyself:" a reproach which, if founded, must 
 strip them of all freedom of speech in the delivery 
 of the word ; or, to use the figure of Isaiah, reduce 
 them to the condition of " dumb dogs in the house of 
 " the Lord," tolerating guilt, and trembling before 
 the guilty. It is true, that their function is indepen- 
 dent of their moral character ; and, according to the 
 word of Christ, from the moment they are admitted 
 to the chair of Moses, we are to receive what they 
 teach with respect, without reflecting on what they 
 do. But, as the generality of men are neither spi- 
 ritual enough, nor equitable enough to make the dis- 
 tinction, they will easily pass from the contempt of 
 the man, to the contempt of his doctrine. 
 
211 
 
 There is in the human heart a certain perversity, 
 or obstinacy, or pride, or call it what you will, that 
 leads us to look with eagle eyes into the character 
 of him who, under the appearance of zeal, assumes 
 the liberty of controuling. If it stand not the test 
 of such scrutiny, at least in material points, he will 
 labour indeed to confirm and expose his own shame, 
 but with respect to his object, he will beat the air. 
 
 It is precisely the folly which the Scripture has 
 singled out as the most extravagant, that of building 
 up with one hand, and throwing down with the other. 
 Not to say, that the cause itself will thereby be ex- 
 posed to more than dishonour : for such is the ma- 
 lignant ingenuity of unbelievers, ever watchful to 
 thicken the veil over the destructive consequences of 
 ttoeir own system, that, when they see among Chris- 
 tians so much degeneracy, such love of the world, 
 such ardor for pleasure and all contemptible vanities, 
 and, in many instances, open profligacy of manners, 
 they eagerly take occasion from thence to revile and 
 discredit religion, which, in the face of its boasted 
 precepts and influence, can yet exhibit to the view 
 of mankind the most scandalous fruits. 
 
 If there be any thing directly and unpardonably 
 against reason and justice, it is this. For as the 
 clearness of the source does not necessarily preserve 
 the stream from contamination, neither can religion, 
 however pure and celestial its laws and maxims, be 
 secure in all cases, from violation. It is, alas ! but 
 too possible to believe in its truths, and occasionally 
 
212 
 
 tremble and hope, as we look to i(s judgments, or 
 the glory of its rewards, while the weight of nature, 
 and the ardour of passion, confine us to a course of 
 disorder. 
 
 But though to confound and identify religion with 
 its abuse, be the most untenable and miserable of all 
 imaginations, and therefore the clearest evidence of 
 a bad cause, it is unfortunately too specious and 
 plausible a thing not to be industriously employed to 
 seduce the multitude, whose depravity, perhaps, more 
 than their ignorance, leads them readily into the 
 snare. 
 
 Nor are we without a fatal proof in another nation, 
 that when the prevailing state of morals, in all orders, 
 become such as to sink religion in the general respect 
 and opinion, its enemies experience but a languid 
 opposition to the complete accomplishment of its 
 ruin. 
 
 Of all the pillars of society thrown down by the 
 cruel and mighty arm of anarchy, the church and its 
 al(ars are covered with most blood, and excite the 
 least compassion and remorse. Nothing can, there- 
 fore, possibly assist us more in furthering the pro- 
 gress of religion and virtue, than to support our zeal 
 by personal righteousness. This it was that finally 
 converted even the most furious persecutors of Chris- 
 tianity. Without this, did we possess all the gifts 
 which the Apostle enumerates, miracles, tongues, 
 philosophy, kuowledge, wisdom, we should still want 
 
213 
 
 the testimony that honours our profession the most^ 
 and most proves it to be divine. 
 
 The next characteristic of true zeal, is., the firm 
 resistance of error. I recollect the time when, in 
 drawing the consequences of irreligion, I took my 
 hints more from my own conceptions than from ob- 
 servation and experience. But I have beheld, with 
 sorrow, those days disappear, and give place to 
 others, unfortunately, more guilty. 
 
 It is not my intention to dwell on points often 
 brought before you, in this very place, by abler men. 
 But if every colouring, every effort that indignant 
 virtue and humanity could suggest, have already beea 
 employed to expose the direful consequences that 
 have flown from a new philosophy, you will admit, 
 that God alone can coerce the license of men, too 
 numerous I fear, and in a rank of life that ought to 
 induce some reserve, at least, under existing circum- 
 stances ; who yet think, and speak, and dogmatize, 
 and love to display their genius and talents, only to 
 sap the foundation of religion. But this is not the 
 hour I can select to do them the justice they deserve* 
 May they live to regard, with horror, the praise and 
 incense they receive from their deluded associates, 
 and which they owe only to the gratitude of those 
 passions, whose empire they toil to extend. May 
 they live to know that system better, whose chief 
 crime is, in their eyes, probably, the demand of too 
 many virtues ; and judge at last which of the two is 
 more glorious, the zeal that labours to sanctify the 
 
 2D 
 
214 
 
 earth, or the fiend-like occupation of seducing and 
 perverting it. 
 
 For, my brethren, to recollect the words of the 
 royal prophet, " I hate the congregation of evil-doers, 
 " and will not sit with the impious," it is too much 
 the practice of some Christians to depart from this 
 wise maxim. That point, that raillery, which spares 
 neither sacred nor profane, are too amusing, have too 
 many charms to be excluded from the intercourse of 
 life. Nay, it is more than probable, that, did the 
 Spirit of Darkness appear at this day, in the shape 
 of a man of wit, that his sallies against the heaven 
 he forfeited would be heard without abhorrence, nay. 
 With applause and admiration. 
 
 Yet, my brethren, many a Christian, while admi- 
 ring the brilliancy of the weapons which impiety 
 employs, has sustained, without perceiving it, an in- 
 curable wound. Like the deluded mariner, who, as 
 fable reports, becoming all ear to the song of the 
 syren, unhappily overlooked the gulph into which it 
 was intended to allure him. 
 
 Firm principles of religion may defy the rude and 
 direct assault of such men, as the noble and majestic, 
 oak defies the fury of the storm; but like it, too easily 
 yields to the deep and insidious mine. Against the 
 evil that stands confessed in all its native deformity, 
 we are naturally on our guard, and collect all our 
 strength. But all the grace and inspirings of heaven 
 
215 
 
 would scarcely be sufficient to guard against the art 
 that steals us insensibly on to the precipice. 
 
 What at least can be the resource of youth, urged 
 on, as it is, by the love of independence, and all the 
 passions in their vigor, when thus exposed, in the 
 contempt of principles, that have scarcely taken root? 
 The result is ruin. Religion is renounced in its 
 dawn, and the school of darkness is recruited, from 
 the very bosom of innocence and virtue. 
 
 If it be not possible in all cases to avoid sitting 
 with the impious ; we know that true zeal requires 
 at our hands, not a timid or silent disapprobation of 
 the assault against our principles, but a bold and 
 manly defence of them, in the face of all consequen- 
 ces, and without respect of persons. Days have been, 
 when not all the united powers of hell and earth 
 could succeed in overwhelming it. The reason is 
 obvious. Every Christian was then a model of what 
 he professed, and a lion in its defence : always rea- 
 dy, always panting for the occasion to confound his 
 persecutors, by constancy in suffering, and perseve- 
 rance in death. 
 
 The form but not the substance of our duty is 
 changed. We are not called to the same trials. 
 The blood and labour of our first brethren, cemen- 
 ted and raised the mighty structure of Christianity. 
 But the inheritance we have received, we are bound, 
 as far as we can, intrepidly to guard, and faithfully 
 to transmit to our children. No human considera 
 
216 
 
 iion can warrant any thing like parley with its ene- 
 mies ; any thing like connivance at the open or en- 
 veloped malignity of the impious. u He that is not 
 f* with me is against me," are the express words of 
 Jesus Christ. Our religion, like our sovereign and 
 our country, demand we should take a generous and 
 decided part in its support ; no middle, no monstrous 
 compound of loyalty and disaffection, scarce less 
 criminal than open revolt, certainly more base. 
 
 The Christian, who tamely suffers his faith to be 
 misrepresented or reviled, must be heartily despised 
 by the reviler. Zeal is not zeal, if it flame not, if it 
 know any bounds at such a moment. Then it is, 
 that we should regard no man, though entrenched up 
 to the neck in all the trappings of human importance. 
 Forget friends and connexions, and without distinc- 
 tion, all who presume to forget the reverence due to 
 the sacred character we bear ! 
 
 This is the indispensable duty of all Christians, 
 but more especially of the great. They cannot be 
 ignorant that their countenance of religion is a tower 
 of strength. They know too well the happy or de- 
 structive influence of their moral character, not to be 
 equally sensible, that, according as they are zealous, 
 or otherwise, in the resistance of impiety, to that de- 
 gree shall the detested principle decline or prosper. 
 
 Persons in an humbler sphere can do little com- 
 parative good or mischief, by their example. With- 
 drawn from the fixed attention of the world, whether 
 
217 
 
 they stand or fall, the consequence is nearly confined 
 to themselves. They do but edify or infect, I may 
 say, within the reach of their rooms. But from 
 those, whom God has placed on the eminence, must 
 the cause of religion or morals receive, in the very 
 nature of things, its most operative support or dead- 
 liest wounds. Yes, my brethren, it is verified by all 
 experience, that when the naturally imposing dis- 
 tinction of high rank is blended with the nobler dis- 
 tinction of acknowledged piety, one word, nay one 
 look of rebuke from such a quarter, will do more to 
 arrest the impudent and audacious sallies of impiety, 
 than the utmost efforts of zeal in inferior Christians. 
 It is the nature of man to look up for his model. 
 And so imperious and indisputable is the sway of 
 high example, that he will often counterfeit virtues 
 to which he is a stranger, and vices which he detests. 
 
 To the ministry I need not appeal in this case. 
 If indifference in other Christians would be criminal, 
 as I have represented it, in men set apart to encounter 
 every thing in the cause, it would be, in the last 
 degree, perfidy and guilt. It is theirs, on all occa- 
 sions, to stand forward and resist impiety as a wall 
 of brass. ? Tis theirs, in and out of the temple of 
 God, to prevent the ruin of the unwary and less in- 
 structed, by boldly unmasking the impositions that 
 would delude them, and confounding them witfe 
 their own portraits. This their superior informa- 
 tion, or nature of their education must enable them 
 triumphantly to do. This ought to be their glory. 
 For if any thing under heaven can approximate the 
 
218 
 
 human character to the divine, it is the dedication 
 of life and talents to the diffusion of truth and virtue 
 among men. 
 
 The third characteristic of true zeal is, the in- 
 struction of all ignorance, but peculiarly the young 
 and friendless. To these I confine myself. It 
 would be superfluous to dwell on the effects of such 
 instruction. There is no point, of any interest to 
 man, better ascertained, or more universally admit- 
 ted, than the power of right and early culture, in 
 forming his mind to every thing that is good and 
 great. Even heathen republics have borne indubi- 
 table evidence, that, by strict attention to this object, 
 virtue the most rigid, as well as piety the most in- 
 violable, can be the distinction of every citizen in 
 a nation. 
 
 If cases too often occur amongst us, where the 
 virtues implanted in infancy are effaced by the vices 
 of youth, I will venture to affirm, that such mis- 
 fortune is less the result of natural corruption or evil 
 contagion than of education, falsely called Christian; 
 in which every thing is more attended to than the 
 main point : the superficial tincture of religion, and 
 the virtues not employed as they ought. This has 
 been long and notoriously the character of modern 
 education, and, perhaps, the true source of all our 
 degeneracy. 
 
 iHs not pretended, that the very best and deepest 
 impressions communicated at that season have in- 
 
219 
 
 fallible issues. For, there is no degree of Christian 
 rectitude, that may not, in its conflict with sudden and 
 extraordinary temptations, pay a tribute to human 
 frailty. But the chance is immense, that the child, 
 who is trained in the way he should go, will not 
 materially depart from it in a maturer age ; or, if he 
 should, that his recovery will nearly be as certain 
 as his fall : like the bended tree, Which flies vigor- 
 ously back to its upright and natural position, when 
 the force that restrained it is relaxed. Confirmed 
 virtue, though it may yield to force or surprise of 
 passion, will, when the moment of freedom and re- 
 collection comes, eagerly aspire to its former dignity 
 and elevation. 
 
 Such is the invariable result of good principles, 
 when once profoundly seated in the soul. To the 
 victim of neglected education alone belongs that in- 
 vulnerable peace, that hardihood in iniquity, to the 
 last of which we have recently had the most affecting 
 and shocking public examples in this metropolis; 
 examples that proclaim, with miraculous organs, 
 the mercy of mercies you are now assembled to ex- 
 ercise. 
 
 Far be it from me to depreciate past efforts in this 
 cause. But, while the ministry have understanding 
 to conceive, and zeal to feel all the present necessity 
 of the object, it is impossible they should cease cry- 
 ing aloud, for the revival of a principle that will 
 give us to know, by personal experience, what sa- 
 crifices it is capable of. 
 
220 
 
 Blessed be God, I already see the promise of such 
 a principle. I see religion, in the better orders, be- 
 ginning to wear its ancient honours. I see, in ge- 
 neral, amongst Christians, more seriousness of cha- 
 racter, more respect for religious duties, more pride, 
 more confidence in avowing their principles, and the 
 influence of those principles on their manners and 
 deportment. I see libertinism and impiety more 
 abashed, and the mute eloquence of high examples, 
 drawing men, at this day, to the public worship of 
 God, to whom the very way to his temples was un- 
 known. I see magistracy, and all its authorities, 
 laborious and vigilant to rescue the day of the Lord 
 from wicked and scandalous profanation, and zeal- 
 ously striking at all sources of popular crimes and 
 disorders. 
 
 In a word, my brethren, we have profited by ca- 
 lamity. The repeated pressure of divine visitation 
 hath forced even the most indifferent, perhaps num- 
 bers of the most dissolute, to serious reflection on a 
 great interest. Marvellous are the mercies of God ! 
 and innumerable the ways of that mercy, in re- 
 calling his revolted creatures to a sense of what they 
 owe him. Happy revolution ! It gives me more 
 than hope, that Christians will feel to the utmost, 
 the unparalleled foundation they have for all that 
 true zeal can achieve in this cause. 
 
 I decline the detail of them, as perhaps foreign 
 from the pulpit. Too minutely, alas ! are we all 
 acquainted with those shocking and alarming con- 
 
221 
 
 trasts to every virtue divine and human, which God 
 has suffered in the bosom of our society for some 
 years back, perhaps in views of mercy to the un- 
 born ; to say nothing of a recent paroxysm of most 
 sanguinary folly displayed in the very seat of gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 But if ever humanity have led us to feel for a pure 
 and friendless generation, if ever a faithful picture 
 of its rights and woes, drawn from the chair of truth,, 
 have proved to ourselves and the wide world that we 
 have hearts, the zeal of God will teach us more. It 
 will teach us, that even life would be well bestowed 
 to rescue innocence from the infection of the day in 
 which it lives : it will lead us into the temple of 
 God on those occasions, not with a passing senti- 
 ment of pity alone for the misery before us, but with 
 a firm and steady eye to the general object of it $ 
 looking at such affliction as God himself might be 
 supposed to look at the paramount want of our 
 wretched people ; and proving, by the sublimity of 
 our efforts, our irrevocable conviction, that their in- 
 struction is the only remedy against evils that have 
 nearly cut us out from the circle of Christianity and 
 civilization, and justly rendered us the reproach of 
 
 ? the world. Merciful God ! why is it not given me 
 to transfuse all I feel on this awful subject ? When 
 
 8 shall the glorious sun of religion, nearly suuk be- 
 neath the horizon, by the degeneracy of uninstructed 
 Christians, and the force of popular iniquity^ again 
 dart its rays from the meridian, to light our Israel in 
 the long-forgotten paths of virtue and of peace? 
 
222 
 
 When shall tranquillity not forced, and harmony, 
 and order, and blessed brotherhood, and union, and 
 willing submission to laws and authorities, and clear 
 insight into the just and unavoidable inequalities of 
 conditions, and universal sense of the various bles- 
 sings to be enjoyed under the purest and mildest of 
 all rule, prevail ? In a word, the horror of all crimes, 
 the knowledge of all virtues, give a title to exclaim, 
 as Balaam before the camp of the Israelites, " How 
 u goodly are thy tents, Jacob, and thy tabernacles, 
 " O Israel !" 
 
 This is the delectable sense, which deep and ge- 
 neral sentiments of religion would produce; and 
 which I am persuaded, as I am of my being, the 
 very charity of the nation would, in a great degree, 
 be competent to realize, and that at no distant pe- 
 riod, were Christians influenced to great things bf 
 the true zeal of God. 
 
 Nay, had we no other spur in this cause, but our 
 bare interest as citizens, there is no sacrifice under 
 heaven, which it should not extort in times like the 
 present. Foi> better were the return to a state of 
 nature, than to live, or entail on our posterity the 
 curse of living, as we do, trembling, divided, and 
 unblest amid the ties and blessings of civilization 
 and religion. 
 
 
 The energies prompted by public spirit and self- 
 preservation may stop the torrent of crimes, and con- 
 fine treason to its den. But the diffused knowledge 
 
223 
 
 and fear of God alone can strike at the source, and 
 give universality to those virtues that ensure felicity 
 to man and to society in this mortal state. 
 
 One word more, my brethren. I have appealed 
 this day to a great Christian principle. And never, 
 I can safely say, during a practice of seventeen 
 years as an advocate of such objects, did I look with 
 more confidence to the event. Let me further con- 
 jure you to reflect, that if the mighty and invincible 
 arm of Him, whose nod can resolve the universe 
 into its elements, hath hitherto sensibly shielded us 
 from a fate, which, your own reflections will more 
 powerfully and feelingly represent than mine ; even 
 one great evidence of your zeal in this cause would 
 be of greater virtue in his sight, than all the solem- 
 nity of luxurious fastings and empty thanksgivings. 
 
 However allowable, and perhaps fruitful an ap- 
 peal to your humanity would be, I look up to God, 
 and decline it. The pulpit at this day cannot be 
 too Christian. Not even the female portion of these 
 infants, well acquainted as I am with their power 
 to draw mercy in extraordinary profusion, shall 
 tempt me to betray a distrust of your zeal, the only 
 sentiment that can produce efforts proportioned to 
 the present calamities of virtue and religion. 
 
 I should deem it, however, an unpardonable of- 
 fence before God, did I quit this place, without men- 
 tioning a circumstance, probably unknown to many 
 Christians who hear me ; namely, that twenty male 
 

 224 
 
 children before us, do not enjoy the full advantage 
 of this institution. They are merely clothed and 
 educated, not sheltered, not secluded from the evils 
 of the day; not fed! If this unhappy distinction 
 once produced in this very church a prompt and 
 most merciful sense of it, why not again 2 why not 
 now, that it is rendered doubly lamentable by the 
 colour of the example abroad ? Am I to consider 
 myself precluded from deploring such an evil, be- 
 cause J once bad the happiness of doing so, in this 
 very place, with extraordinary success ; since no 
 human ability could devise any thing more cal- 
 culated to act on Christians than the motives I have 
 laid before you. If you would teach the pulpit more 
 reserve, it must not be by a display of your virtues ; 
 the more evidence of that nature you afford, the more 
 Insatiable ^ou will find its ministers. 
 
 As long as I possess the power of utterance, I 
 shall conceive it a sacred duty to conjure attention 
 to this case wherever 1 find it. What need I speak 
 of the genera) inefjicaey of instruction unaccompa- 
 nied by seclusion from bad example ? It is precisely, 
 as I said before, throwing down with one hand what 
 we build with the other. It is paying a price for 
 $he most afflicting experience. It is merely taking 
 pains to render the perversion of children the more 
 opprobrious to religion, and more dangerous to the 
 community, by the lights they receive. It is justify, 
 ing the objections that are made against the rational 
 growth pf the poorer classes, by communicating the 
 
 
225 
 
 talent of reading, without the only security that can 
 exist against its abuse. 
 
 But what need I say more on this point? There 
 never can be one reasonable hope entertained of a 
 child passing daily, with any thing like safety, even 
 from the best lessons of piety and morals, into the 
 bosom of example, perhaps, the most infernal. The 
 very care that we take, or confess that we ought to 
 take, in cutting off our own children from all inter- 
 course with the profligate, is a proof that our con- 
 viction on the subject is decided. Shall we then, 
 my brethren, shall an assemby so vast, so equal 
 to great efforts, not provide against an extremity 
 so fatal? Shall these unhappy boys merely be 
 brought to droop at the view of a blessing not des- 
 tined for them ; confined, like criminals, to the 
 porch of the temple ? Shall the zeal of God not give 
 them entrance into the sanctuary ? Is it but one no- 
 ble and true Christian exertion, and you seal the 
 present, probably the everlasting happiness of crea- 
 tures already half within your bosoms. It is not to 
 their natural protectors, that is, the inhabitants of 
 this parish, I would be thought peculiarly to address 
 myself, but to all good and feeling Christians before 
 me. Every difference of obligation is lost in the 
 magnitude of the case. I have sometimes, I con- 
 fess, felt sby, if I may use the term, in recommen- 
 ding additional burdens in poor parishes. But I 
 have sometimes done so, and multitudes instantly 
 pushed forward to undertake them ; and all doubt 
 of persevering support from the public was refuted 
 
p ' 
 
 226 
 
 by the event. But this is the day of superior vir- 
 tues, as it is, unfortunately, of superior crimes : and 
 it would be the last insult I could offer to the zeal 
 of Christians, not to exact, were it necessary, the 
 humblest mite in support of a divine religion , and, 
 I might almost say, its diviner consequences. 
 
 I leave you, my brethren. Remember the gene- 
 ral object. Remember, these female innocents. Re- 
 member peculiarly the case of these unhappy boys. 
 And may I be greatly justified, at the expiration of 
 this hour, in saying with the Apostle, " I bear record 
 " that they have the zeal of God." 
 
 And now to God the Father, and God the Son, 
 and God the Holy Ghost, be all honor and glory, 
 fbr ever and ever. Amen. 
 
SERMON X. 
 
 ' 
 
 (Tor the Poor Children of the Parish of St. Nicholas Without J 
 
 Psalm, xvm. v. 30. 
 
 Jls for God his way is perfect : he is a buckler id 
 all those that trust in him. 
 
 I MUST be dead to every great and sublime 
 emotion, if the prospect that meets my eye at this 
 moment were incapable of exciting such a sentiment 
 in my soul ; if I could look round me in this church, 
 and behold so vast a multitude of every sex and con- 
 dition voluntarily assembled and confounded before 
 the face of the most high God 5 and not glory in the 
 triumph of religion, over the powers of darkness and 
 spirit of the world. 
 
 Oh, my friends, what an incontestable evidence 
 do you this day afford, that a respect for heaven is 
 at bottom, at least the ruling principle in every heart; 
 that though the world and its caves may agitate and 
 engross us, though passion may bow us down to a 
 Variety of idols, still a proud hour will sometimes 
 proclaim that virtue alone is amiable, and God alone 
 is great. 
 
228 
 
 My friends, I have many, and, as I conceive, se- 
 rious and important considerations, to press on you* 
 Most f solemnly do I declare, that if ever, at any in- 
 stant of my life, I have regretted the want of superior 
 powers, if ever I have panted to possess that ardent 
 and victorious language, which penetrates and in- 
 flames the heart, it is at the moment I stand before 
 you : it is now when every hour seems more and 
 more to point out the necessity, manifest as it is 
 awful; of improving our title to the divine protection. 
 
 My design is not to animate your patriotism ; nor 
 is it perhaps in strictness the province of the minis- 
 try. Be that as it may, the task happily is unne- 
 cessary. Were the case otherwise, I certainly 
 should not hesitate a moment to use every effort of 
 my soul, in strengthening and exciting such a sen- 
 timent among you. Happily however the case is 
 otherwise. It is not necessary. Your attachment 
 to the common cause is fervent and unquestionable, 
 and, I trust universal, from the cottage to the throne. 
 Or if I be deceived, if it were possible there could 
 lurk, at this awful crisis, under the present aspect 
 of things, any remnant of treason or disaffection, 
 thank God it is doomed to droop its head 5 doomed 
 to behold a spirit that speaks daggers to its hopes, 
 and like spots on the glorious disc of the sun, to be 
 overwhelmed in a wide and extended blaze of loy- 
 alty and public virtue. 
 
 Basely insensible and undeserving would we be 
 indeed of all the blessings we enjoy, if every object 
 
229 
 
 that is loved and revered by man, his domestic 
 peace, his freedom, his altars, his country, his prince, 
 would not rally us around them in the moment of 
 their danger ; or if one common impulse of horror 
 were not sufficient to nerve every arm, when refiners 
 on all cruelty, and harbingers of all chaos would 
 add us to the train of their innumerable victims. 
 
 No ! not to glow and unite on such ground is 
 surely out of nature. Did we live under the most 
 abominable despotism that ever set its foot on the 
 neck of a people, instead of the mildest and wisest 
 of all systems, who would exchange his lot, bitter 
 as it might he, for an eternity of such liberty as 
 turns man into a monster ? 
 
 But I am going out of my course. All I will say 
 farther on the truly noble and heroic ardor you dis- 
 play at this portentous crisis is, that if the arm of 
 flesh would protect you Without God, you stand 
 upon a rock, which a bloody and ferocious horde 
 might assail without impression. Depend on it, 
 however, if there be any truth uuder the sun better 
 confirmed than all others, it is this, that there sits 
 enthroned on the top of all creation, a treinetulously 
 jealous, and inscrutably overruling Being, who can 
 counteract the best concerted enterprizes of man ; 
 whose invisible agency determines the issue of all 
 human events ; who has often proved, that he can 
 be weary of long patience ; and who is terrible when 
 he awakes to scatter judgments and afflictions over 
 a guilty world. 
 
 2 F 
 
230 
 
 JSow then is our time to conciliate him, while, I 
 may say, he seems to waver 5 while yet he seems to 
 view us with predominating tenderness ! Now is 
 our time to humble ourselves to the dust before him ; 
 to avow and deplore our many and grievous offences, 
 and adopt a resolution that may eventually avert the 
 calamities of a nation. 
 
 Let us not flatter ourselves with the unconditional 
 hope of one moment's security. The records of our 
 religion, and the whole history of man are against 
 us. Though every being in the nation possessed the 
 nerve and daring of au Achilles, and were equally 
 invulnerable, our efforts would be vain, should 
 Heaven mark us out as the victims of its insulted 
 justice. 
 
 Beware then, lest "a scourge come upon you 9 
 " mighty and without number; whose teeth are as 
 "the teeth of a lion; a fire devoureth before them, 
 "and a flame burnetii after them. Your land is 
 "now as the garden of Eden, and behind them it 
 " shall become as a desolate wilderness" Too ex- 
 act a portrait is this, of the demons you have to deal 
 with ; and such was, in part, the awful admonition 
 which a merciful and long-suffering Father addres- 
 I to Israel, when the cup of its iniquities was full, 
 and the example of vice and irreligion in the great, 
 came to countenance and uphold the abominations of 
 the people. 
 
231 
 
 Let us then, I repeat, for the last time, honestly 
 take ourselves to account ; honestly lay our hands 
 to our bosoms, and ask these, how far we have de- 
 served the divine protection against the demons that 
 are abroad ; and by what means, and what means 
 alone, we may effectually ensure it? This is the 
 business, to which I would lead you, and which shall 
 constitute the sequel of this discourse. 
 
 If I did not go into the proofs of an all-controuling 
 Providence ; if I did not shew that it is founded on 
 the first principles of reason; nor have brought for- 
 ward, in support of it, that vast and mournful body 
 of evidence which the Scriptures and all history 
 afford, it is because a most able effort from this pul- 
 pit has precluded the necessity of my doing so. I 
 allude to a sermon preached before you on the 8th 
 of January, and which you all have, or ought at 
 least to have, in your hands. 
 
 I shall, for the sake of order, divide what I have 
 to speak of into heads. First, the growing disposi- 
 tion to infidelity among men. Secondly, the equally 
 manifest decay of piety and morals among those who 
 still profess to believe. I trust, however foreign the 
 description of such matters may appear to the par 
 ticular object for which we are assembled, it will 
 tend, notwithstanding, strongly to promote it. You 
 are fatigued by constant appeals to your compassion- 
 Most intimately persuaded am I, that the cause of 
 popular education in this country will never 
 thoroughly prosper, unless by strenuous and uncea^ 
 
232 
 
 ing efforts of the ministry, to light up the flame of true 
 religion in your souls. 
 
 Constitutional sensibility you have ; and when 
 properly excited, it does much : but to reckon on 
 a sentiment, which every object you pursue is up in 
 arms to keep down, and, consequently, which can 
 emit no abundance of sparks, unless it be inflamed 
 and assaulted like a bar of iron in a forge. No, it 
 is a forlorn hope. But give me to see you once 
 raised to the glorious distinction of Christians, 
 trampling on the world and its allurements; joining 
 to the force of nature, the love and dread of your 
 God ; impressed with a conviction of future respon- 
 sibility : then, and only then, will I say to the 
 friendless orphans of this nation, your Messiah is 
 come. 
 
 First then, I ask if it can be doubted, that the 
 mortal poison of infidelity is rapidly gaining ground ? 
 Can it be doubted, that the most sacred truths of 
 Christianity are, in too many instances, scouted with- 
 out reserve, and delivered over to scorn ? Is there 
 scarcely a young man, at the present day, in that 
 class of the world which is honoured with the name 
 of fashionable, who professes to believe any thing 
 on the score of religion ? Is it not too much the 
 reigning tone among men, to rise superior to the 
 weakness and simplicity of believing Christians ? 
 
 What minister of religion can now venture to 
 preach on the subject of our holy mysteries, or en- 
 
233 
 
 force their divine authority, without exciting a phi- 
 losophic smile in these children of light ? Who shall 
 even glance at the doctrine of eternal punishment, or 
 of future punishment at all, without being openly 
 pitied for his credulity, or secretly arraigned for 
 hypocrisy ? 
 
 Is it not this predominating character of the day 
 that has forced, in a manner, the pulpit, in spite of 
 itself, to slur over the awful and tremendous in re- 
 ligion, and recur to topics as suited to the portico, 
 as to the temple of Jesus Christ? What does there 
 too generally appear to be left of religion among 
 many men, but a sentiment common to enlightened 
 heathens; namely, a political respect for its influence 
 in restraining the vulgar? And how soon might it 
 expire under open insult and contempt, if, like oil 
 on troubled waters, it did not help to promote the 
 tranquillity of the commonwealth ? 
 
 How many among us who most cordially detest 
 the political principles of Paine, are as cordially 
 with him in every line of his Age of Reason ? And 
 perhaps, were we to take the trouble to ascertain 
 which had been read most, that blasphemous attack 
 on Revelation, or the masterly refutation of it by a 
 Christian prelate, it would be found, that the one had 
 been generally and greedily devoured, while the 
 other was scarcely known, or cast aside with con 
 tempt* 
 
234 
 
 That there are men who, raging to pull down the 
 venerable temple of our constitution, and erect on 
 its ruins the bloody standard of French liberty, have 
 recurred to infidelity as one of the engines, is clear ; 
 since it is well known with what indefatigable in- 
 dustry, the very worst species of it has been diffused 
 among the deople in the circulation of the work I 
 have alluded to, which was sold and dispersed 
 through the provinces in editions so cheap as a penny 
 a book. 
 
 Need I mention that execrable soeiety which ex- 
 isted in the very heart of the metropolis, in the year 
 ninety-five, in which open and avowed treason 
 against the state was supported by such language 
 against heaven and religion, as can scarcely be con- 
 ceived possible in any extremity of mental delirium, 
 and certainly not thought of without a feeling of 
 unutterable horror? 
 
 I say nothing on this head but what the public 
 are in possession of, from the evidence and confession 
 of those deluded young men. But, Great God ! 
 whence arises that almost general, if not equal pro- 
 pensity to detract from the principles of Christianity, 
 in those who are not blinded and impelled by the 
 same furious motives ? 
 
 Christianity, the source of every private and pul 
 lie virtue, and, if it be not a fable, so absolutely de- 
 cisive of our destiny for ever ! Surely on a point so 
 
235 
 
 important, it is wisdom to use some caution and de- 
 liberation, to look before we venture on so dangerous 
 a leap ! 
 
 But to reject truths of the strongest evidence, 
 merely for the glory of rejecting them ; to reject 
 without inquiry a system, which, like a rock in the 
 midst of the deep, has stood the beat of all tempests 
 and torrent of ages ; or, to use no other arms against 
 it, but a set of common-place worn out difficulties, 
 that tremble from old age and caducity, a thousand 
 times advanced, and a thousand times refuted ; not 
 to be able to support the infidelity they adopt, or 
 prove the falsehood of the faith they abjure : and 
 in this state of shameful inconsistency, yet pretended 
 conviction, gaily and proudly to advance on a tre- 
 mendous eternity ! 
 
 If such be the mark of superior understanding, or 
 even of common sense, then I wish to be informed 
 what it is that constitutes imbecility or phrenzy ! 
 
 My friends, the great source of infidelity is not in 
 the understanding of man; it is in the pride and cor- 
 ruption of his heart. Well has the prophet compared 
 the impious man to a tempestuous sea, which, tor- 
 mented by the winds, vomits upon its shore a tide of 
 slime and impurity. Be not surprised at the bold- 
 ness of the metaphor. It is exactly applicable to 
 those geniuses who make the sacred objects of our 
 belief the but of their ridicule and scorn. 
 
236 
 
 This is not an occasion on which I can collect 
 and display the proofs that support revelation : but 
 show me a man, whose moral character evinces that 
 he has no interest in decrying them ; who, perfectly 
 divested of pride, prejudice and passion, will care- 
 fully examine them; will trace, and when he has 
 traced them, will candidly acknowledge the exact 
 and most literal accomplishment of the scripture 
 prophecies, that invincible stumbling block in the 
 way of all objectors to Christianity ; will admit that 
 its original establishment in the face of all human 
 opposition is any evidence of divine original ; that 
 certitude, moral and historical, and facts the most 
 palpable, are a test of truth in any cause whatsoever ; 
 that the assent of the most virtuous and enlightened • 
 men in every age of the Christian world, down to the 
 present hour, carries any weight with it : that our re- 
 ligion, if false, could have still kept its ground in so 
 many nations of the earth, amidst the increase of 
 human knowledge, and unceasing variation of all 
 human things ; and after such an inquiry, and such 
 acknowledgments, will still persist in unbelieving ; 
 I will then confess that real and deliberate incre- 
 dulity is not a chimera. 
 
 But I am bold to say, that such an example w ill 
 never be found ; or if ever it should, it will be a 
 singularity not to be accounted for on any known 
 principle of the human mind, and, therefore, would 
 make nothing against the natural strength of the 
 argument. 
 
237 
 
 No, it is invariably the passions of men that im- 
 pel them to throw aside the yoke of religion ; of 
 men whose open and declared profligacy of manners, 
 haunted by the spectre of future retribution, is not 
 the spring of their revolt. IV o, it is pride, it is the 
 vanity of rising superior to received opinions, of 
 being thought wiser and more intelligent than the 
 multitude, whom they would represent as dragging 
 their steps amidst a night of prejudices ; following 
 their teachers with an abashed head, and equally 
 born to creep under the tyrants of their reason, as 
 under those of their liberty. 
 
 Consequently we see religion attacked, not by 
 argument, but by sophistry, misrepresentations, wit, 
 irony, ridicule, apocryphal anecdotes, vain and pue^ 
 rile declamations; and all such arts as impose on the 
 understanding, and carry away the suffrage of super- 
 ficial hearers, who never fail to think themselves 
 convinced, when they are delighted and amused. 
 
 Press, however, those hearers of impiety with 
 any thing like argument ; offer them the gauntlet of 
 serious discussion, and they are dumb. The most 
 you can draw from them is a lame attempt to cover 
 the weakness of human reason in a bad cause; or 
 sometimes a mysterious insinuation, that they know 
 much more on the subject than they think it right or 
 prudent to express. 
 
 There is no man acquainted with the world, who 
 must not often have witnessed this,. What a race 
 
238 
 
 of impostors ; what a curious system that would en- 
 lighten mankind, while it dreads to be enlightened ; 
 that is supposed to be the work of reason, while it 
 shrinks from all reasoning ; and that impudently 
 shouts victory, while it shrinks from the combat ! 
 And yet such, and such only, are the triumphs of 
 infidelity ancient and moderirl A miserable empty 
 reed dashing against a colossus ! 
 
 Look into the most celebrated writers of that cast; 
 and what trace do you find of a dispassionate inquiry 
 after truth ? What do they present to the world, 
 but master- pieces of impiety, in which the sacred and 
 the profane, truth and calumny, fable and true his- 
 tory, eulogium and satire, reason and pleasantry, 
 united and confounded together in their march, seem 
 to dispute the glory of charming and seducing the 
 reader, like those inchanted labyrinths in which 
 every way attracts, and every way misleads ? 
 
 Such are the works of Bayle, such of Voltaire, of 
 Housseau, and many others I could mention ; men 
 gifted by heaven with every talent, but seduced by 
 the pride of human reason and Inst of false glon . 
 to employ them in the most abominable of all pur 
 poses. L'erhaps it would be impossible to calculate 
 the extent of the mischief they have produced 
 throughout the Christian world. 
 
 In the first ages of Christianity you behold the 
 fruits of perfert and universal submission to the 
 principles of Christianity, in a society of men allbrd- 
 
 
239 
 
 ing the example of every virtue that insures the 
 happiness of individuals and tranquillity of states. 
 But since the growth of infidelity, Great God, what 
 a torrent of corruption ! What inquietude in the spirit 
 of man ! What theories ! What systems destructive 
 of all puhlic felicity ! What abominations ! What 
 crimes ! What a full evidence of this has been given 
 to the world ! 
 
 Oh divine religion ! let thy ministers be silent. 
 Thou standest not in need of their assistance. Thy 
 cause is at last become the cause of all society. The 
 delusion is dissipated. Every eye is opened. Im- 
 piety is at length wounded with its own sting ; it is 
 betrayed by its own excesses ; it is even terrified at 
 the horrors it has occasioned ! May we profit, my 
 friends, by the awful lesson ! May religion resume 
 a glorious empire among us ! the protection of heaven 
 be assured, and this island be happy ! 
 
 I come now to the second head of my appeal to 
 you. Perhaps, of the two, it is much less injurious 
 to God, to spurn his revelation as an imposition on 
 the human understanding, and unnatural restraint on 
 human passions, than to confess he has revealed a 
 law, anil yet live in daring violation of every rule it 
 prescribes, for the regulation of our conduct. But I 
 appeal to your own breasts, and this is certainly not 
 a time to cast a veil over the truth, how far the ge- 
 nerality of Christians may, with justice, be accused 
 of dishonouring their profession; or whether it would 
 be exaggeration in me to assert, that the day never 
 
#40 
 
 existed when fervor io religious practice Mae te] 
 known, and the example of viee and every species 
 of dissipatipn more notorious, consequently more 
 ruinous. I say ruinous ; for who is unacquainted 
 with the influence of example on the morals of youth ? 
 Example is omnipotent in vice or virtue. 
 
 Our first father, though born without original staiq, 
 could not resist the example of the first crime. We 
 are imitative creatures, more exactly poised in our 
 inclination to good or evil, than is imagined by those 
 who judge more severely of human nature. It is the 
 weight, the preponderance of example on one side 
 or the other, that invariably determines the first bent 
 pf our lives. It is impossible, at certain years, to 
 resist the power of repeated impressions. 
 
 Hence it is, that we see the sacred principles of 
 education rapidly hunted down, and dropping like 
 the buds of blasted vegetation. Thus the man, who 
 would have §tood firm against the force pf his own 
 passions, yields to that body of vice, which he sees 
 not only tolerated and excused, but nearly consecra- 
 ted and commanded. Thus the woman, who came 
 pure from the plastip haucj of education; with all the 
 grapes pf njpdesty blooming in her mien; and all the 
 virtups pf religion shining in her deportment, is so 
 qujckly hurried down the silver tide of fashion, that 
 it is just to say, she becomes radically tainted 
 wjth pride, vanity, folly, and affectation ; drops 
 that diffidence, which is certainly the most captiva- 
 ting feature of the sex; becomes bold, staring, mas- 
 
 
241 
 
 culine, and assured ; passes her whole life in the 
 oblivion of all that is serious 5 never bestows a 
 thought on God, or her duty ; and, to speak nio*e 
 truly, adores nothing but herself. 
 
 This is the notorious and too melancholy effect 
 of example. The youthful character presents itself, 
 like flaming wax, to the seal of the day, and takes au 
 impression that becomes hardened and durable. 
 The necessity of doing as other people do, and the 
 dread of ridicule, have plunged thousands into a 
 course of life which their understandings have re- 
 probated and their hearts abhorred. As well might 
 we expect to mock the ordeal of fire and water, as 
 associate in the season of youth with a corrupt gene- 
 ration, and preserve for any time even the appearance 
 of religion and virtue, 
 
 " With the pure," says David, " thou wilt shew 
 ff thyself pure ; and with the froward thou wilt shew 
 " thyself froward.' 7 Let it specially be observed, 
 that bad example, when exhibited by the higher 
 orders of life, is an evil most extensively fatal and 
 pernicious. The vulgar or obscure can do but little 
 comparative mischief in this way ; withdrawn from 
 attention by the humility of their lot, the eye of God 
 is the chief witness of their ways. Whether they 
 stand or fall, the consequence is chiefly to them- 
 selves. Suppose them covered with the vilest of- 
 fences, they would but infect within the sphere of 
 their contracted intercourse. 
 
242 
 
 But those among you, my friends, whom God has 
 raised high above the multitude, what a blessing or 
 a curse has he decreed you to be ? You cannot perish 
 alone. Like the beast in the Apocalypse, which fal- 
 ling from the heavens, dragged the stars into the 
 abyss, to your perdition is attached the perdition of 
 thousands. It is not only in the bosom of your fami- 
 lies, or intercourse with each other, that you save or 
 destroy. No ! your morals, whatever they be, be- 
 come necessarily the morals of the whole public : 
 your example becomes a standing rule; either an in- 
 strument to promote, or a poison to sap the stock of 
 virtue in the nation. 
 
 It is impossible you can go astray, as to the gene- 
 ral tenor of your lives, unknown to the world. Like 
 a torch in the midst of the night, you are distinguish- 
 ed by the lustre you emit. Your inferiors take a 
 vanity in walking in your steps. You stamp on li- 
 centiousness an air of nobility and fine taste, which 
 they cannot resist. Every graft that you lay on the 
 simplicity and innocence of ancient manners is in- 
 fallibly spread. 
 
 From you, the present reigning indecency of female 
 dress ; from you, the artificial blush which dishonours 
 the human countenance ; from you,theincreasing rage 
 for play, and the highest play ; from you, a pre- 
 vailing latitude of conversation on certain topics, 
 which Christian delicacy revolts at ; from you, the 
 too manifest and too general contempt for even the 
 externals of religion. 
 
243 
 
 For instance, as to this point : I speak to you now 
 in the holy time of Lent. Great God ! how is it 
 profaned by all, from the highest to the lowest? Is 
 there any mark of peculiar fervor and restraint at 
 this time, passed by our divine Saviour in fasting, 
 solitude and prayer, but with us, I may say, in un- 
 common revelry : as if we selected this period for 
 the impious purpose of insulting the example and 
 deriding the sufferings of him who redeemed us? 
 
 The very enemies of the Christian name read us 
 a lesson on this head, that ought to cover us with 
 deepest confusion. Every thing announces among 
 them, at the period of their Ramezan, repentance, 
 expiation, atonement, before the face of the most 
 high God ! Against the slightest transgressors, their 
 law pronounces a penalty : against the more scanda- 
 lous, death. 
 
 Such are the disciples of a false prophet; and in 
 the bosom of Christianity, amidst a chosen and a 
 cherished race, the beloved of God, and redeemed 
 by his blessed Son, the only spectacle that attends 
 a sacred obligation is the multitude of those that 
 spurn and despise it ! 
 
 Again; we are commanded, " to kefep holy the sab- 
 " bath day." I challenge any impartial man to say, 
 whether, in the very worst state of relaxation to which 
 religion can be supposed to arrive, it would be possi- 
 ble almost to imagine more various abuse of that day 
 than our community affords. I am unwilling to enter 
 
244 
 
 into particulars : nor perhaps would it be prudent to 
 do so on the present occasion. Surely one should 
 think that six days in the week are long enough) 
 in all conscience, for the work of offence and dissi- 
 pation. Why do we pursue and assault our religion, 
 in her last entrenchment? Why are we continually 
 innovating on the oldest establishment of vice ? 
 
 Are we never to be glutted with the world ? Is 
 there no luxury in breathing free from unnatural 
 repletion? At least I may be allowed to say, that 
 cards, assemblies, and play on the sabbath of the 
 Lotd our God, are an abominable profanation ; cards 
 that on every day are a mine of offence, no longer 
 an occasional amusement, but a settled profession ; 
 a sharping resource ; the very business of our lives j 
 over which avarice itself is seen to slumber from 
 perfect lassitude. 
 
 Inconceivable passion ! Why do not the ministers 
 of religion devote the evening of this sacred dav to 
 such an employment? No, the world would exclaim , 
 against them. I dare assert there- never was, or 
 never will be, so direct and shameful a prostitution 
 of their sacred function. No ; the world would be 
 the very first to proclaim it as an argument in defence 
 of its own profanation. 
 
 And have you less to fear on the subject of futu 
 rity than we have? If we have all equally the same 
 law to abide by, depend upon it, that according to 
 oar transgressions, we shall experience the same. 
 
245 
 
 judgments, and be involved in the same common ruin, 
 Alas my friends, whence can it be that all the ad- 
 monitions we receive on this, and every other point 
 of Christian duty, appear absolutely without effect? 
 
 Year after year, and day after day, they are im- 
 pressed on us. We are certainly appealed to with 
 much fervor and much assiduity. The ambassadors 
 of God cry aloud to us in his temples, and his word 
 is in our hands. Every consequence, temporal and 
 eternal, is brought to stare us in the face. Still our 
 train of life continues obstinately the same. No 
 deep sensibility to reproof; no fixed determination to 
 lay the axe to the root of any one single passion or 
 abuse ! 
 
 Oh ! how afflicting must this be to the hearts of 
 those, who are appointed by heaven to hunger and 
 thirst for your salvation ! Grant us at least the hap- 
 piness, at this awful crisis, threatened, as our coun- 
 try still is, by a dreadful visitation, to find that we 
 make some impression on you. Oh, what have we 
 yet done to conciliate our God ! Yes, we have assem- 
 bled on a solemn day to repent with our lips. But 
 repentance would have fruits. St. John, on the 
 banks of the Jordan, preached not the parade, but 
 the fruits of repentance. " Bring forth," said he, 
 " fruits worthy of repentance." If you have two 
 coats, give one to him who hath none. Lay the axe 
 at once to the root of the tree ; that is, pronounce an 
 eternal and radical divorce from your vices and 
 passions, and become shining examples of every 
 
 2H 
 
246 
 
 human virtue. To this we are now solemnly called. 
 What a mockery is it to look for divine protection 
 in this world, or mercy in the next, on any other 
 terms ! 
 
 You yourselves would regard me, at this instant, 
 as the vilest apostate from my duty, did I hold a 
 different language to you. And yet what you would 
 receive from my lips with indignation and horror, is 
 the very doctrine you cherish in your hearts, and 
 proclaim in your conduct. What inconsistency ! 
 Hear then this solemn truth, and though the grave 
 threw up the dead to controvert it, they would de- 
 ceive you : while the Lord looketh down from the 
 height of his sanctuary, and beholdeth the great ex- 
 cesses authorised and diffused by the greatest exam- 
 ples ; a monstrous system of luxury increasing the 
 public misery ; a principle of false honour shedding 
 blood without authority or remorse ; children taught 
 every thing but the science of salvation ; a vile and 
 perishable interest the god of all stations ; and 
 Christianity, from universal degeneracy of its pro- 
 fessors, the laughing-stock of philosophers and un- 
 believers. 
 
 That is ground, not for confidence, but to tremble ; 
 to tremble every instant, lest the cup of his fury be 
 poured upon us ; the sword of an enemy be a scourge 
 of his appointment. Can we deem ourselves, in siwh 
 a case, less criminal in his sight, than that impiou* 
 generation which, in an early age of the world, he 
 repented having made, and resolved to exterminate? 
 
247 
 
 I Lave no difficulty in saying, that we are more 
 so, because the law of grace, consecrating us more 
 specially to God ; giving us a more intimate com- 
 munication with God ; causing us, in a degree, to 
 participate the very nature of God, our transgressions, 
 supposing them to be inferior in themselves, take 
 from thence a deeper colour of enormity, and con- 
 sequently cry louder for his vengeance. Incurable 
 must our infatuation be, if we see not this instant, 
 the way we should pursue. 
 
 Is it when the decree of our chastisement may 
 have passed, when the heart of our God is steeled 
 against us ; when we are delivered over to the sons 
 of Amalec, and the land we inhabit is polluted by 
 infidels, and ravaged by furies ; when every object 
 for which we breathe is swept away, like a dream 5 
 and we are cast forth on the wide earth, a proscri- 
 bed, wandering, and mendicant race ? 
 
 Is it then we shall raise our hands to a long-for- 
 gotten Father? Oh, it would be vain ! No; you had 
 Moses and the prophets, and you heard them not. 
 Remember it is written, that the Lord hath estab- 
 lished a time for mercy, and a time for vengeance ; 
 and mocketh that repentance which is the effect of 
 force and necessity. I should never draw to a con- 
 clusion, were I to say all that my heart suggests. 
 From the very bottom of it have I spoken to you. 
 What interest have I in your temporal or eternal 
 fate, but what is given to me; from God ? If I am 
 
248 
 
 inflamed for either, what other principle can inflame 
 me? 
 
 If you can be insensible to the only infallible 
 means of conciliating the divine protection to our 
 common country, what might not the case be with 
 me, in the common order of human feelings ? With 
 me, who am but an atom on the surface, and would 
 find a resting-place wherever I was blown. 
 
 Or, if you can look to the great day of your eter- 
 nal account without fear and trembling, what affair 
 would that be of mine, did I not view you with other 
 eyes than one man views another? 
 
 Reflect then on the warning you have received, 
 for it hath a character you ought to distinguish and 
 feel. Reflect on that warning ; for I am the min- 
 ister of God, and it is not mine. The time may 
 come, when the greatest on this earth shall be hum- 
 bled and let down. Melancholy evidence that no- 
 thing is stable and immutable but God ! They may, 
 with tears in their eyes, and sorrow in their hearts, 
 say, even to me, Oh, that our unhappy nation had 
 attended to such counsel as you once addressed to 
 us! 
 
 To the high and the low, the rich and the poor, 
 those in authority, those out of authority, ministers 
 of heaven, parents and children, Christians all, here 
 it is. Serve God, and cause him to be served ! No 
 detail could tell you more. To your mercy 1 commit 
 
249 
 
 the portion of innocence and wretchedness before 
 you. Had I kept them m your attention through 
 the whole of this discourse, I could not have served 
 them better, than by the line I pursued. I know it ; 
 I feel it. I will pledge my life, my eternity, the 
 event will prove it, whatever appearance may be 
 against me. 
 
 Resolve from this hour, as far as in you lies, that 
 the iniquities of the people shall cease with your 
 own. Edify them by your example. Enlighten 
 them by early instruction. The mute eloquence of 
 Christian life in their superiors is a more powerful 
 instrument in reclaiming the adult generation, than 
 all the efforts of their priests or ministers. 
 
 But what might not the ministry effect, when for- 
 tified by such assistance? What weight, what au- 
 thority would it not extend to the truths which we 
 announce to them ? What confidence to our zeal ? 
 What credit to our censures ? What consolation to 
 our labours ? In pointing to those above them, the 
 appeal would be decisive and unanswerable. 
 
 I will venture to say, if the upper and middling 
 orders lived as they ought, there would be little 
 iniquity in the multitude. Even one great example 
 in a kingdom is a treasure to the cause of religion 
 and virtue. Mattathias alone stemmed the torrent 
 of abomination in Juda. To the influence of your 
 personal conduct, join early instruction. Let semi- 
 naries of education flourish, Strike at the root of 
 
 
250 
 
 popular misery and popular disorder. You know 
 what you have done in this way. Think you have 
 done nothing, while any thing remains to be done. 
 
 The appeal in this cause has been almost ex- 
 clusively to your feelings as men ; and a prolific 
 source it must be confessed. But the times seriously 
 and awfully warn you to act in another capacity. 
 Regenerated to God, your fruits will be invariable 
 and immense. Your efforts in this cause will know 
 no bounds. You yourselves will be the first to pro- 
 nounce that superabundance of property as accursed 
 which is turned to a less sacred purpose, than that 
 of promoting the designs of providence, strengthening 
 the bonds of society, and distributing, I may say 
 here below, crowns of immortality to your fellow- 
 creatures ! 
 
 Oh, how all the vain magnificence of the world 
 sinks before the glory of such works ! To your 
 mercy I commit those unprotected objects of com- 
 miseration. I know what has happened in the course 
 of last week. It was early announced to me in the 
 stillness and tranquillity of my solitude, looking for- 
 ward with the liveliest hope. Whatever lias the 
 most distant colour of disaster, and thank God, that 
 to every man who does not purposely represent it 
 otherwise, it is but a colour, is rapidly conveved. 
 I was even earnestly entreated, I was implored to 
 defer this appeal to you. I was told that it must 
 necessarily fail ; that, not a being would attend us ; 
 that I ought to prepare myself to see those children 
 
251 
 
 abandoned ! No ; I looked up to God, and deter- 
 mined to go on. The appearance before me evinces, 
 that he who puts his trust in him is a truer prophet 
 than the disciples of Baal. Were I urged by no 
 other principle, I thought it my duty, not to give my 
 countenance, insignificant as it is, to such an alarm, 
 obviously unfounded, by the postponement of the 
 present business. I knew that at no time would 
 your charity disappear, a virtue so peculiarly born 
 yours ; which all the demands of the world cannot 
 extinguish in your hearts ; and which, perhaps at 
 this moment stands between you and the visitation 
 of God. When was there ever a greater occasion, 
 for exercising it ? When misery is increased to the 
 most enormous growth ; when such ruin surrounds 
 you as would force tears from the most rigid, and 
 harrow up the stores of the worshippers of gold. 
 
 No ; that charity should cease here, was a thought 
 of horror ; a libel on heaven ; a detraction from your 
 character. I dismissed it with execration. I re- 
 solved to go on. And again, and again do I say, 
 that, so far from losing my usual trust in you, I 
 never ascended this pulpit with more confidence of 
 you in my heart. You know the particular case of 
 these infants. You know they have no support to 
 expect from the parish to which they belong. It is 
 not equal to it. There is no part of this great ca- 
 pital where the dispositions of Providence are more 
 awfully written. If it have not a pre-eminence, it 
 has, at least, a fair struggle for pre-eminence in every 
 deacriptioa of human calamity. The number of 
 
252 
 
 destitute and famishing children is now great be 
 yond all former times. Not one of these before you 
 whose father is not actually, or has not been in the 
 ranks of his country. To your hearts I submit it, 
 whether it be not mercy, and superior mercy, to 
 support an institution like this, in the midst of misery 
 and desolation ? This, indeed, I may say you have 
 already done. Last year alone gave it a shock that 
 went nearly to dissolve it. 
 
 Our call on you was unfortunately at a time when 
 the town was much emptied. Not enough was 
 raised to maintain these objects. I resisted, how- 
 ever a reduction of their number. One benevolent 
 man was found to supply the deficiency. I relied 
 on this day ; convinced that, when reminded of our 
 misfortune, you would greatly feel, and powerfully 
 repair it. I have not known you for ten long years 
 without being sensible, that there are extremities 
 which you cannot resist. I leave you. I trust in 
 you. Not all the inauspicious forebodings I have 
 heard could depress that feeling for a moment. I 
 stand to these unhappy objects in a tender relation. 
 Oh ! let their pastor and father implore you to save 
 him from the mortal affliction of seeing them cast out 
 on a world of iniquity and woe. I can say no moro 
 
 Grant this, O God, for the sake of thy Son Jesus 
 Christ ; to whom, with thee, and the Holy Spirit, be 
 all honour and glory for ever and cv*r. Amen. 
 

 SERMON XL 
 
 [This was a Charity Sermon preached in the Year 1798, for the 
 Benefit of the Widows and Children of those of the Yeomen- 
 rj and Militia, who fell in the Rebellion.] 
 
 John, xiii. 34. 
 
 A new Commandment I give unto you, that ye love 
 one another. 
 
 I GIVE thanks to the supreme God, that I meet 
 you in this place ! that his temples are still open to 
 echo the voice of his ministers and servants ! and 
 that every thing sacred to civilized and religious 
 men yet defies, under the shield of divine protection, 
 all the fury of fanaticism, impiety, and rebellion. 
 Yes, my fellow citizens, and fellow Christians, I 
 come hither to rejoice with you ; to glory with you 
 in the advancing triumph of a cause, which all the 
 freedom and virtue of the universe must call their 
 own. No, never shall the monster, Jacobinism, ex. 
 ult in the ruins of our happy constitution; or the 
 influences, the charities, the hopes of a divine reli- 
 gion, be replaced by a detested system of preteuded 
 reason and avowed impiety. No ! Neither will God 
 abandon us at this awful moment, nor shall we 
 abandon ourselves. A deluded multitude may yet 
 
 21 
 
254 
 
 continue the instruments of desperate and sanguinary 
 leaders ; they may yet be pushed on to fresh ex- 
 perience of defeat and destruction ! the delusive 
 hopes of rapacity, or workings of superstition may 
 still uphold their phrenzy ! the blood of the inno- 
 cent and the guilty, the loyal and disloyal, may long 
 mingle in this unhappy contest ; but Ireland can 
 never perish while she deserves to live ; whilst her 
 virtue and her mind are in counsel and in arms ; 
 whilst every hour reveals such new and astonishing 
 energies ; and every life that flows, and every wound 
 that is inflicted in her cause become, as we daily 
 witness, the seed of a prouder and more invincible 
 combination. Oh ! my friends, from what a destiny 
 have we been saved ! Never, never should we forget 
 that signal providence which has so long watched 
 over our safety, which unbound the very elements 
 to protect our shores from invasion ; that early laid 
 open the whole train of this damnable conspiracy ; 
 that on the very eve of its explosion overwhelmed 
 its principal supporters, and prepared every loyal 
 soul to meet a most formidable crisis with the coun- 
 tenance and spirit of heroes. What, I say, what 
 would our dear and commou country have been at 
 this present hour, had not heaven so mercifully in- 
 terposed in its behalf? had negligence and torpor 
 distinguished our government, instead of vigilance 
 and vigour ? had we been gulled by specious cries 
 of patriotic sounds, and with a train ready to spring 
 under our feet? What? what, but one vast and dc* 
 plorable scene of misery and desolation ! All right, 
 all order, all distinction annihilated ! The possession 
 
255 
 
 of property become a mark of inevitable proscription ; 
 the stones of our sanctuaries dragged into the pub- 
 lic places ; the ministers of heaven devoted in the 
 face of day ; our wives and virgins polluted by the 
 passions of brutes and barbarians! Every friend to 
 humanity and moderation, every man averse to 
 revolutionary horrors, butchered without mercy ! 
 " Blood, in the language of the prophet, touching 
 " blood f. 9 and to crown all, the demon of super- 
 stition sharpening and extending the cruelty of the 
 multitude, and tearing from their breast the last 
 remnant of remorse and compassion ! Such, such 
 is the Revolution, from which heaven, in its supreme 
 mercy, has hitherto delivered us ! Nor is it unlikely 
 that the savage actors in it, when their work was 
 complete, would have shed in equal torrents the 
 blood of one another, to determine who should pos- 
 sess the empire, or greater division of the ruin. 
 
 I am induced from a severe regard to truth to 
 mention that religious animosity, which too clearly, 
 and too wofully appears to have been pressed into 
 the service of the present rebellion. I trust I shall 
 not be considered as inflamed myself, and conse- 
 quently desirous of inflaming my protestant brethren, 
 with the same abominable sentiment. No, as I hope 
 for mercy at the great day, there is no principle in 
 nature more foreign to the ruling disposition of my 
 soul. Whatever the magnitude of their injuries may 
 be, I would rather remind them of that memorable 
 and godlike answer, which our divine Saviour made 
 to his disciples, when solicited to command Are from 
 
256 
 
 heaven for the destruction of a Samaritan village, 
 *f Ye know not," said he, " what manner of spirit 
 " ye are of." The Son of Man came not to inspire 
 men with principles of malevolence, cruelty, and 
 revenge ; but to fill the human bosom with godlike 
 forbearance, amity, and love. I would rather in- 
 culcate on them, what a striking contrast all san- 
 guinary and uncharitable feelings present to the 
 character of Him who was eminently the friend of 
 mankind, in whose breast every thing dwelt that 
 was humane and divine, and who bequeathed us this 
 glorious sentence as a living and eternal lesson, ik By 
 " this shall all men know that you are my disciples, 
 "if ye love one another." 
 
 It is greatly to be lamented, and the thought can- 
 not fail to inspire a serious mind with the most gene- 
 rous pity and indignation, that Christians should, in 
 all ages of the church, have so miserably departed 
 from the spirit of the Gospel. I am sorry to make 
 the following remark ; but, alas, it is but too just 
 and obvious. There is no species of history which 
 a benevolent man, or well wisher of the human race, 
 reads with less pleasure, or rather with more disgust, 
 than ecclesiastical annals. Had our blessed Lord 
 left us this precept on record, " A new commandment 
 " I give unto you that you hate one another," it 
 could not have been better fulfilled than it has been 
 from the third century down to the present hour. 
 
 One shudders to think what seas of human blood 
 have been spilt, in what are called religious icars, 
 
257 
 
 and with what circumstances of refined barbarity, 
 and unwearied perseverance, various and discordant 
 parties of Christians have laboured to exterminate 
 one another. It is not improbable that our Saviour 
 and his disciples might have had these unhappy 
 scenes in view, when they so earnestly conjured 
 Christians, by every affecting argument and motive, 
 to cultivate mutual affection and concord. Nor* 
 certainly is there any thing that shows our divine 
 religion in a more endearing light, than, that it is by 
 no means chargeable with those mischiefs, and hor- 
 rors which the worst passions of human nature have 
 engendered ; but, that its sole study, its grand and 
 primary object is, to reconcile us to one another by 
 means of one common union, one common Redeemer, 
 and inspire all who bend to the sacred name of Jesus, 
 with unbounded philanthropy and love. Persevere 
 then, my high-minded friends, in defending the 
 cause of human nature and your couutry, with ener- 
 gies that are worthy of it ; but dishonour it not by 
 a black and unchristian auxiliary ! Obey the glo- 
 rious impulse of patriotism alone ; discard all em- 
 blems; abjure all names, but those of men determined 
 to expire with the constitution and the throne ! 
 
 If you have beheld with horror and affliction, the 
 wanton and unprecedented enormities of a blind and 
 sanguinary bigotry ; if, in too many instances, the 
 unoffending professors of our national religion have 
 been barbarously cut off in the bosom of their retire- 
 ments, pursue those monsters with tenfold vengeance, 
 Who have infused this exterminating spirit into the 
 
258 
 
 breasts of the multitude ; drag them to atonement in 
 the face of an enlightened world ; but pity the de- 
 luded instruments, even reeking as they are with the 
 blood of innocence : shew them that you are Chris- 
 tians, that you regard every human creature without 
 distinction as a brother, and would make as great 
 sacrifices to promote the happiness, relieve the ne- 
 cessities, or protect the life of an individual who dif- 
 fered, as of one who agreed with you in religious 
 communion. ~ 
 
 These are sentiments I think it my duty to ex- 
 press in this place, in the awful situation in which 
 we are placed ; sentiments which Jesus Christ him- 
 self, did he stand in this chair, would express ; and 
 which, had I the whole rational world as my audi- 
 ence, must be generally revered and approved. 
 
 When I look to the condition of this country some 
 short time back, I trace a picture which every friend 
 to the happiness of his fellow creatures must view 
 with satisfaction, nay even with delight. ? Tis true 
 there is nothing human in which theorists, and de- 
 claimers on first principles may not discover blots, 
 and pronounce exceptionable. But will any honest, 
 unprejudiced and thinking man, who estimates the 
 degree of felicity to which a community may aspire, 
 not by arguments drawn from fancy, but with wise 
 and proper allowance for those errors and deviations, 
 that are inseparable from humanity ; will any such 
 man pronounce that the condition of Ireland, at the 
 period I allude to, was not more than enviable? 
 
 
259 
 
 Name, I may say, a single public and social blessing 
 that we did not enjoy, or were not gradually enjoy- 
 ing ! We possess the freest, yes, the freest form of 
 constitution under heaven. Every hour had brought 
 us nearer to the fullest participation of it : our legis- 
 lative independence had been gloriously and irrevoca- 
 bly established ! The great and capital restriction on 
 our trade, which was so mucli complained of, had fal- 
 len to the ground ; our judges were declared for life ; 
 the right of appeal to the British House of Lords 
 was given up ; concession came after concession ; 
 whatever the pride of freemen demanded, the affec- 
 tion, wisdom, policy and justice of England had sur- 
 rendered, or were fast surrendering ! Those shackles, 
 in which the jealousy of angry times had deemed it 
 necessary to bind a large proportion of our commu- 
 nity, had yielded, in the master links, to the long 
 experience of their loyalty ; and our catholic brethren 
 were advancing with rapid, dignified step, into the 
 bosom of the constitution. If the state of our repre- 
 sentation remained capable of reform, let it be re- 
 membered, that, on this subject, the very best and 
 wisest men were divided ; and that even the illustri- 
 ous father of the present British minister, though 
 confessedly one of tbe most ardent, powerful and vir- 
 tuous assertors of liberty the empire ever saw, re- 
 coiled from the experiment ! With all this our com- 
 merce, our manufactures were palpably improved, 
 if not flourishing ; the condition of the meaner orders 
 as palpably meliorated, and every quarter of the 
 nation making rapid advances to wealth and pros^ 
 perity.! 
 
260 
 
 From the evidence of my own eyes, I can declare, 
 that, in the most impoverished of our provinces, a 
 province of which, from the steady and unshaken 
 loyalty it has evinced in this trying moment, I am 
 proud to feel myself a native ; the scene was univer- 
 sally changed, and, instead of hereditary beggary and 
 rags, presented a happy and contented people, pos- 
 sessing in abundance all the common comforts and 
 necessaries of life. Such was the high ground on 
 which we stood ; such the manifest condition of Ire- 
 land, when the infernal demon of French liberty and 
 equality came, like Satan inio Eden, to attempt to 
 blast our happiness. 
 
 That in every society, some turbulent and discon- 
 tented spirits should be found 5 men born to subvert, 
 traitors by nature to all rule and government, who, 
 in the lust of dominion, would grasp with avidity at 
 schemes of innovation, and readily overturn the best 
 blessings of their country, whatever difficulty or hor- 
 ror might attend the execution, neither can nor will 
 create matter of astonishment; since heaven itself 
 nourished serpents in its bosom, who preferred reign- 
 ing in the abyss, to the fulness of fruition in the 
 realms of glory ! 
 
 But that any considerable portion of the people of 
 Ireland, tasting, as 1 have showed, all the sweets of 
 prosperity and peace, drinking at the very spring of 
 liberty, should be so blinded, so infatuated ; their 
 reason, their senses, their gratitude to heaven and 
 their country, so completely overwhelmed by the 
 
261 
 
 specious and diabolical arts of a handful of traitors, 
 as to spurn at their unhappy condition, and give an 
 example to the world of the most bloody and atro- 
 cious rebellion, is a circumstance as harrowing to 
 every feeling of the heart, as it would seem unac- 
 countable to every effort of the human understand- 
 ing! 
 
 Oh, my frieuds, were it given me, ungifted as I 
 am, to address the deluded multitude, methinks it 
 were impossible, that the force and ardour of truth 
 should not make way to their hearts ; impossible that 
 the scales of deception would not drop from their 
 eyes ; and those eyes behold, with horror, the dag- 
 gers that are planted in the breast of their country ! 
 " Hold I" would I say to them, u in the midst of your 
 " headlong career, and hear the voice of him, who is 
 u neither the organ of party, nor the instrument of 
 u faction, but a minister of the God of peace ; who 
 " comes before you with a heart bleeding at your 
 u errors, and panting for your happiness ; look 
 u around and survey the havoc you have made ; 
 " consider your objects, and the means you have 
 u employed ! You have turned the fairest portion of 
 u your native soil into a frightful desert ; thousands 
 " have been reduced by you, in one moment, from 
 " the possession of all human blessings, to a state of 
 " houseless misery and despair : thousands have fled, 
 " or are flying in all directions, from the scourge of 
 * war, excited by you ! The capital is crowded with 
 " the mourning widows and orphans of those you 
 " have massacred in the coldest blood. Bands that 
 
 
262 
 
 H were never raised to Heaven in vain, are now fer- 
 " vently uplifted for vengeance on your guilty heads ; 
 "the earth is drunk with the blood of your own 
 u companions in rebellion ; their wives and children 
 " are expiring of famine in the open fields, and pub- 
 " lie ways ! You have entailed, and are entailing, 
 " eternal infamy on yourselves and posterity, by re- 
 " sistance to the institutions of a nation that loved 
 u and cherished you ; and by deeds, in that resis- 
 " tance, unknown to cannibals and barbarians ! Such 
 " are your means ; and what are your objects ? In 
 " what have you been persecuted, in what oppres- 
 " sed ? Where is the evil in your condition that could 
 " justify proceedings execrable to human nature, and 
 "the whole social world? Alas, you know not I 
 u You have been promised visions, and they fly be- 
 " fore you ; and visions you would have found them 
 " to be, had even your present phrenzy been crown- 
 " cd with success. Liberty ! you felt, you posses- 
 " sed it ; and believe me, would have exchanged it 
 " for the most abject experience of slavery ! Pro- 
 " perty ! you possessed that abundance suited to your 
 " condition ; and have been dragged from the peace 
 u and plenty of your hearths, to meet death and de- 
 " struction in all forms, and range abroad in the de- 
 " tested profession of plunderers and bloodhounds. 
 " Look at France ! She had some colour, some apo- 
 "logy, for encountering the evils of revolt. All the 
 " rights of man, all the noble aspirings of his nature 
 " were crushed by the iron foot of despotism ; but 
 " what has she gained ? She is still in bonds. Ty- 
 " ranny the most palpable and various, and the worse 
 
263 
 
 a and more incurable for being covered by the sa- 
 " cred name of liberty, still bows her to the earth. 
 " Her unhappy people possess no alternative but that 
 " of serving in her ranks, or perishing by hunger or 
 " proscription. Years rolling on years, will not re- 
 U store her to the common level of society. Centu- 
 u ries cannot retrieve her character ; seas wash away 
 u her enormities. Oh, my countrymen, oh, my bre- 
 " thren, profit by the great lesson of experience I Be 
 "no longer the dupes of your worst enemies 5 spurn 
 u those traitors who have hitherto misled, and would 
 " still mislead you ; return to your duty ; be not in- 
 a sensible to the best gifts of Heaven ; cast your- 
 u selves on the mercy of your country ! If she have 
 " spirit and resolution to pour vengeance on the heads 
 " of rebellious and unnatural children, she has bow- 
 " els to embrace them when they appear before her 
 " in the garb of repentance. But beware, most so- 
 lemnly do 1 conjure you, beware, by an obstinate 
 li and fruitless struggle of impelling her for her own 
 4i safety and tranquillity, to bind those in eternal 
 " chains, who prove unworthy to be free !" This is 
 the language in which I would address them. This 
 is the language in which, as far as possible, they 
 ought daily to be addressed. To contrive all means 
 of preventing the spreading of human calamity, and 
 stopping the effusion of human blood, should be thft 
 unwearied passion ; nay, and engage the very 
 dreams of humanity. Had we been as active before 
 the commencement of this unfortunate scene, in inter- 
 cepting those mists which the industry of incendiaries 
 was drawing fast over the popular mind, as wc haw 
 
264 
 
 since been in the protection of all that is dear to us, it 
 is move than probable, we never should have seen 
 even the colour of open resistance. But what did we 
 do ? Why, shocked and alarmed at occasional exces- 
 ses, and the growing spirit of midnight robbery and 
 assassination, we abandoned our posts, fled from the 
 infested quarter, and left the field open to the quiet and 
 uninterrupted apostleship of agents and sowers of se- 
 dition. 
 
 All the weight of providing against the first symp- 
 toms of a coming storm was cast on the shoulders of 
 government. Our streets were filled with those who, 
 instead of remaining in the circles of their natural 
 influence and authority to exert necessary vigour in 
 the suppression of disorders ; to open the eyes of 
 their tenants and dependants on their true interests ; 
 to guard them from the infection of French princi- 
 ples, by the words of wise and fervent admonition, 
 came hither in crowds, with rueful tales ad rueful 
 countenances, to spread despondency, and pass their 
 time in sauntering inquiries on the news of the day. 
 But it is folly to look back. When the die was 
 thrown, they showed how greatly they could atone 
 for a mere error ; and Ireland will be distinguished 
 in the records of time, as an illustrious and adaman- 
 tine rock, against which the overwhelming surges of 
 French anarchy have dashed in wain. Yes, if it owe 
 not its salvation singly to our brave and magnanimous 
 yeomanry ; it would, if necessary, have owed it. If 
 the generous and noble aid it has received, and is 
 receiving from the sister-country, had, by any disas- 
 trous chance, been withheld, Ireland was sufficient 
 
265 
 
 for Ireland! I say it; and every loyal soul in this 
 congregation would arise, and echo : Ireland was 
 sufficient for Ireland ! No man who has witnessed 
 the ardor of his citizen soldiers ; the countenance they 
 present ; the forms they display 5 the discipline they 
 evince ; the copious and impetuous torrents of loyalty 
 that hourly flow to share and swell the honour of 
 their ranks, can dispute the assertion for a single 
 moment: qualities which, in mercenaries and un- 
 heated souls, are the mere conquest of time : such 
 as ready submission to controul ; strict military sub- 
 ordination ; cool contempt of danger, and patience 
 of &A ioil, in them the burning fire of true patriotism 
 has rapidly created. Yes, men enlightened by the 
 ia valuable objects they were born to enjoy, came 
 forth in the great hour of danger, ready trained, to 
 conquer by the sacred and inspiring genius of the 
 constitution. 
 
 Glorious body ! Tt is not for me to do justice to 
 your triumphs. They only who beheld you in a 
 nearer view ; who beheld every hour your panting 
 alacrity to meet the enemy : they only who led you 
 into action, and have seen you in the field of death, 
 bearing down every thing before you, and, nobly 
 prodigal of your blood, are equal to record them. 
 May the gratitude of your country be eternal ! May 
 you never have cause to say with the Roman patriot: 
 " I would rather have it asked, why Cato had not a 
 " statue, than why he had one/' May you sustain 
 to the last the great character you have earned ; and 
 add to it the still greater, of returning to the tran- 
 
266 
 
 quiility of private life ; lamenting,. in tbe spirit of di. 
 vine religion, the fatal consequences of war, and 
 undazzled by the rays of your own glory. 
 
 To the militia of Ireland I likewise gladly pay a 
 feeble tribute. What an example have they pre- 
 sented of steady and uncorruptible loyalty ! What 
 regiment has not evinced itself worthy of our utmost 
 confidence ! And who shall again presume to tarnish 
 with the unjust breath of suspicion the honour of an 
 Irish soldier ? Placed in the most delicate situation, 
 too uninstructed to feel all the sacredness of the cause 
 in which they were engaged ; connected by inttuHne- 
 rable ties ; by country ; by class ; almost univer- 
 sally by sect ; perhaps, in numerous instances, by 
 blood and consanguinity ; such the unhappy people 
 to whom they were opposed ; they yet marched to 
 tbe contest, not with dejected brows, but with high- 
 crested spirit, and every where came out of it adorned 
 with the wreath of superior valour, and unstained, 
 as far as I could learn, with a single instance of de- 
 fection. Let these gallant troops, this constitutional 
 bulwark of our defence, occupy the high place they 
 Lave merited in our respect and affection ; and let 
 us study, on all occasions, to make them feel and 
 enjoy the greatest of all rewards, that of being num- 
 bered among the saviours of their country. More 
 my heart would prompt me in their regard $ had I 
 said less it would reproach me. 
 
 There is an awful consideration connected with 
 the present subject, which the suddenness of my ap- 
 
267 
 
 pearance in this place allows me not to dwell on, 
 I leave it to abler bands, and cooler moments. Nor, 
 certainly, should I have presumed on the hasty and 
 indigested effusion you have heard, had I not long 
 known, that you are much more distinguished by 
 generous indulgence than critical severity. I shall 
 only beg leave, most earnestly to recommend a serious 
 and true Christian return on ourselves. If ever it 
 were called, most awfully called for, you will con- 
 fess it is now. Let, I conjure you, the sacred empire 
 of religion be resumed in our hearts. Let it shine 
 out in our practice ; and let us view, in the deplora- 
 ble event that has taken place, not merely the effect 
 of human causes, but the chastening, the awakening 
 influence of a mighty and invisible hand. Horrible 
 would our ingratitude be, horrible our insensibility, 
 if both the inflictions and the mercies of Heaven were 
 equally cast away ! I would not reproach you. I 
 would not look back. I would not descend from 
 that elevation of feeling, which the happy prospect 
 of a subsiding evil has universally inspired, to the 
 miserable drudgery of detail on the subject of our. 
 past vices and errors. Too often, alas ! has it been 
 recurred to in vain : too often has all the zeal of 
 the ministry split against the rock of our impeni- 
 tence : our obstinate and immoveable perseverance 
 in the most shameful disgrace of our calling ! Perhaps 
 even at this hour, big as it is with a deluge of human 
 calamity, the passions and abominations of our Israel 
 still prescribe against the law ; and not one beins; 
 exists in its vast bosom, no not one, who, with bro- 
 ken and contrite heart trembles before the c.onnie- 
 
268 
 
 nance of a long insulted God. But I commit, as I 
 proposed, this solemn and important topic to your 
 own reflections ; and proceed to a very few words 
 on the immediate purpose of your meeting. 
 
 Had I a son who greatly fell contending, as in 
 the present cause, not only for the liberties and hap. 
 piness of this country, but for the liberties and hap- 
 piness of the world ; a first movement of nature 
 would no doubt draw a tear from my eye, or a groan 
 from my heart. But that tribute once paid, I would 
 hail his fate as blessed, and tread with pride and 
 exultation on his glorious grave. Under the sanc- 
 tion of this feeling, which I am persuaded is still in 
 a higher degree yours, I bring into your view all that 
 is left of those who fought and conquered, and died 
 in your defence : the dear and tender pledges of 
 expiring husbands and fathers, the merit of whose 
 blood was the only legacy they had to bequeath 
 them. I appeal not on this occasion to your mercy, 
 I come not as usual, with study and preparation, to 
 draw scenes of existing misery, and make awful 
 comparisons between the various destinies of God ? s 
 creatures. I come not to combat the wretched sub- 
 terfuges of selfishness, and arouse feelings of com- 
 passion, which passions of prodigality and dissipa- 
 tion are in arms to beat down ; but in the fulness 
 and effusions of my heart, to address hearts that al~ 
 ready glow, not to meet an enemy, but to share a tri- 
 umph, and be witnesses what high-beating patriotism 
 and loyalty can do at a moment like this. Deep 
 would be the wound inflicted on the Irish character. 
 
269 
 
 if that enthusiasm, which ever meets the eye and the 
 ear out of this place, should subside into languor, 
 when called to give the most affecting test of its sin- 
 cerity. What have I not a right to look for from 
 you my fellow citizens on this head : when the sym- 
 pathy, the generous and noble sympathy of England, 
 poured out, not in the course of one day, but in one 
 hour, one thousand five hundred pounds, for support 
 of the widows and children of all, without distinction} 
 who fell or might fall in the present rebellion ? 
 
 I reminded you, in the preceding part of this dis- 
 course, what your lot would have been, had this 
 jacobin conspiracy, of the ferocious and the base, 
 succeeded in sweeping away all the blessings you 
 possess. 
 
 Let this consideration meet you now full in the 
 face. Let the upper and the middling ranks, wealth 
 and mediocrity, reflect on the sacred regard they owe 
 to the last prayer of that valour, which protected them 
 from inevitable mendicity and ruin. And when their 
 hands are extended to repay an incalculable benefit, 
 let them pause and inquire of their hearts, whei' er 
 the magnitude of the offering is proportioned to the 
 exalted sacrifices that demand it. Let those minis- 
 ters of religion and venerable prelates, who may now 
 hear me, think of their sacred order rescued from 
 the certainty of utter subversion, and pour out, in the 
 face of Heaven and their country, with tenfold abun- 
 dance, those means they hold in trust for the hap- 
 piness of their fellow-creatures. Let the female part 
 
 2L 
 
270 
 
 of my congregation look Lack with horror on the 
 dangers to which matron purity and unsullied inno- 
 cence were exposed ; and if those dear domestic ties, 
 which constitute the whole scope of their felicity, be 
 now secured to them for ever, let the unhappy ob 
 jects I plead for find a natural and tender resting, 
 place in their exulting bosoms. Let us all raise our 
 eyes with ardent and eternal thanksgiving, for the 
 preservation of religion, liberty, property, and life. 
 And let the walls of this hallowed place, till they 
 moulder into dust, call to the memory and veneration 
 of man, the mighty tribute you will this day lay on 
 the altar of public gratitude and virtue. 
 
SERMON XII. 
 
 [This Sermon was preached for the Female Orphan House.] 
 Psalm xviii. 16. 19. 
 
 Tie sent from above. He took me. He drew me 
 out of many waters. He brought me forth also 
 into a large place. He, delivered me, because he 
 delighted in me. 
 
 THUS it was, iny brethren, that a religious prince 
 referred to its mighty source, the signal and happy 
 fortune he had experienced. Seated after many se- 
 vere trials and hair- breadth escapes, on the throne to 
 which providence had destined him, and tranquilly 
 enjoying the love of his people, his heart unceasingly 
 revolved, and his lips unceasingly published the glo- 
 ry and bounty of his Supreme Benefactor. From 
 his tenderest years, God had marked him for his 
 own. For him he had rejected the posterity of Saul ; 
 for him he had passed by all the great and powerful 
 of his own tribe ; and that, at a season of life when 
 he had nothing to recommend him but the innocence 
 and simplicity of his heart. Nor was the Almighty 
 satisfied with this mark of eternal election : his divine 
 hand was the shield that protected him from every 
 peril ; from the fury of the lion and the bear ; from 
 the strength of Goliah, the perfidy of Absalom, the 
 
272 
 
 snares of the Philistines, and the not less dangerous 
 snares of his own prosperity and glory. In fine, to 
 crown these mercies, God conducted him into a large 
 place, that is, into the midst of Jerusalem, and esta- 
 blished his residence and dominion for ever in the 
 bosom of peace, security, and abundance. 
 
 Such, my brethren, may I in a degree pronounce 
 to be the distinctive mercy which God has shewn to 
 the numerous objects of this great institution. He 
 has drawn them out of many waters, he has delivered 
 them, because he delighted in them. He has chosen 
 them from amidst thousands of their own tribe, whom 
 his unsearchable judgments have still committed to 
 the wide world, its evils, and its woes ; and he has 
 conducted them into a large place ; that is, within 
 the walls of a comprehensive and glorious asylum, 
 where their helpless sex and immaculate purity are 
 secured for ever from the worst of fates, temporal and 
 eternal. 
 
 From the first moment of its establishment, my 
 brethren, we may perceive the manifest agency of a 
 superintending providence. A blessed woman, of 
 high rank, who is now in glory, first laid its founda- 
 tion within the. precincts of her own house. Many 
 before me at this moment can bear witness to this 
 singular example of Christian benevolence. The 
 wretched creatures she thus collected into her bosom, 
 increased every day ; she maintained them at her 
 sole expense, she instructed tbem with her own lips, 
 she walked before them, as to her example, like a 
 
273 
 
 divinity in human form ; dead to the world and its 
 pleasures ; her doors barred against vain and idle 
 intrusion ; her whole train and equipage discharged, 
 she lived but to devote her fortune and her life to 
 this labour of love. Too eager, alas ! was heaven 
 to reward such virtue. It was unfortunately the swift, 
 but glorious evidence, how far it was possible for a 
 human creature to throw off all the imperfections of 
 mortality. In the midst of her sacred and laborious 
 occupation, the grave opened apparently to frustrate 
 her designs and hopes : but the virtues of the truly 
 righteous communicate a soul, if I may so express 
 myself, to their very remains, that irresistibly impels 
 to the imitation of their example. Scarcely did that 
 affecting portion of now doubly orphans, let fall a 
 tear on the tomb of their adored parent and benefac- 
 tress ; scarcely did they look around them at that 
 terrible moment with dismay and trembling, when 
 she still seemed to exist in kindred and congenial 
 spirits ; they were eagerly collected under the wings 
 of equal benevolence, and a cause which visibly dis- 
 played, in its origin, the spirit of God, as sensibly 
 felt him in the wonder of its rescue from early de- 
 struction. Contrary to the fortune of all new insti- 
 tutions, whose progress is gradual in public favour 
 and protection, the very first appeal of this nature 
 which it made, afforded in the contribution a brilliant 
 prognostic of its future prosperity and glory ; nor 
 amidst the many vicissitudes of years that too gene- 
 rally weaken the fervor of first impressions, has one 
 ground of presumption occurred, that this cause is 
 not destined to flourish as long as religion and hu- 
 
274 
 
 manity continue to be revered. Such, my brethren, 
 is the history of the object which I am once more 
 come before you to recommend. 
 
 Perhaps of all sources of corruption in human 
 society there is none greater, than that lamentable 
 degradation of the female sex, which this institution. 
 from the extensive scale on which it is conducted, 
 must go extensively to diminish. In the considera- 
 tion of this point, T place the misfortune of fallen 
 woman, as far as it involves her own fate temporal and 
 eternal, totally out of the question. To this I shall 
 ^peak in the sequel ; I would here only consider the 
 effect which her depravity is known to produce ou 
 the morals of every rank of the community ; and I 
 do say, when we deliberately look to the variously 
 desperate complexion of that effect, there is no prin- 
 ciple, Christian or social, that must not give superior 
 importance to the preventive before us. How many 
 parents, eveu in the highest order of life, can bear 
 woful testimony to the total perversion of youth, by 
 the seductions of the vicious part of the female sex ! 
 The fondest hopes of rising excellence disappointed ; 
 fortune opprobriously dissipated ; constitution radi- 
 cally broken down ; living spectres of early decrep- 
 itude ! Every ingrafted virtue, every sacred principle 
 of education effaced, every vice that can dishonour 
 human nature and religion, springing from this one 
 impure root. Objects to which they tenderly looked 
 up for the pride and consolation of their age, often 
 presenting nothing to their eyes but the premature 
 compound of the demon and the bratc. This may 
 
275 
 
 appear to be strong language on the subject ; but to 
 know the world at all, is to know that it is more than 
 justified. When youth is once allured into the mys- 
 teries of libertinism, there is no excess or enormity 
 that is not swallowed like water. It is the property 
 of this fatal evil even to mar the finest qualities of 
 nature. Often are talents and spirits, fitted for the 
 greatest purposes of society, entombed for ever in 
 this sepulchre of the soul ; nothing that belongs to 
 mind can have power to charm, where mind would 
 appear no more. If youths who might have pressed 
 forward to the most honorable distinction be daily 
 seen without a spark of virtuous emulation ; insen- 
 sible even to that love of fame, which in default of 
 purer motives, gives birth to such diversified objects 
 of human ability ; roaming through the capital with 
 stupid and licentious gaze, dead to the respect of 
 character, and equally lost to their country and the 
 world ; impute it to no other cause than that unhappy 
 corruption of morals which extinguishes the nobler 
 aspirings of man, to substitute the pursuits of a vile 
 instinct. Would you vindicate, my brethren, the 
 honour of religion and nature ; would you behold in 
 youth the ambition of preeminence in virtue and 
 usefulness, establish purity and severity of morals, 
 by cutting off the foul source of their depravation I 
 Do this, I say ; and instead of swarms of walking and 
 ignominious nuisances you will have men ; you will 
 have citizens : more, instead of the contempt of 
 Christian practice, private and public ; instead of the 
 affected and blasphemous language of infidelity, for 
 the libertine is invariably profane, you will havo 
 
276 
 
 youth glorying in submission to the sacred principles 
 of their religion, and affording the happy and edifying 
 spectacle of its influence on their conduct. 
 
 And here, my brethren, I am naturally led to ob- 
 serve, that if there be any obligation on a Christian 
 that towers above all others, it is that of stemming, 
 by all possible means, the progress and example of 
 impiety. On the consequences of this evil it is need- 
 less for me to dwell. That it leads to th<5 destruction 
 of the best interests of society, and commission of all 
 crimes, the present generation has had evidence 
 enough. It has been a prodigy reserved for our times, 
 to see impiety become, by its monstrous excesses, its 
 own executioner, and, contrary to its hopes and 
 natural tendency, the principle of regeneration and 
 social order throughout the Christian world. We 
 have seen, too, the not inferior prodigy of religion, 
 solemnly and ostentatiously brought forward to justify 
 the foulest usurpation of sovereign power, in the eyes 
 of the very nation, that with recent and impious rage 
 had overturned its altars, and laid the dust of their 
 ruin with the blood of its ministers ! 
 
 All I would urge on this occasion is, the solemn 
 duty of striking at a known source of every thing 
 insolent and daring in irreligion. That libertinism 
 is such, no one of common experience can doubt. 
 If there be any example on record, which I much 
 question, of pure morals being coupled with infidelity, 
 there are thousands where vice alone is its principle 
 and its nurse. Like the ocean, which, tormented by 
 
277 
 
 the tempest, vomits on its shore its various filth an*l 
 impurity, the libertine, tormented by conscience, 
 vomits against the religion that devotes him to all 
 the suggestions of his foul heart and imagination ; 
 finding it impossible to ally faith with the brutal 
 indulgence of his passions, he furiously adopts the 
 resource of renouncing the one, in order to maintain 
 the gratification of the other. It was thus, my bre- 
 thren, that even the wisest and most favoured of men, 
 openly insulted and disavowed the worship of the 
 true God, from the moment he became a slave to the 
 allurement of infamous women. It is against this, 
 and an infinite variety of evils, the most shocking to 
 religion and society, that we provide, in labouring 
 to root out the prostitution of the female sex. But 
 I have not done. How much might be said on the 
 degree to which human nature is debased and per- 
 verted, and the infernal put on in receptacles of 
 ill fame ! What amalgamation of horrors ! What 
 nightly scenes of furious discord, howling riot, and 
 mad intoxication ! Horrible imprecations ; not un- 
 frequently blood, accidental or premeditated ; often- 
 er, I fear, premeditated than accidental ! What 
 youth ever sallied forth, after inhaling the blasting 
 air of such a school, but to exhibit an object of glo- 
 rying depravity, and a various pest to the pure and 
 religious part of the community ? 
 
 Are we ignorant to what extremity, even in the 
 violation of common honour and honesty, youth may 
 be impelled by the fascinating tyranny of impure con- 
 nexions ? I will venture to assert, that there are few 
 
 2M 
 
278 
 
 shameful departures in youth from principle, that <h> 
 not arise from such a source. One of the most heart- 
 rending dramatic productions we know, was never 
 understood to be a misrepresentation of life, or a li- 
 bel on the human character, when it paints the sov- 
 ereign empire of abandoned woman, leading an un- 
 happy youth, step by step, through all the gradations 
 of guilt, to the final consummation of the most un- 
 natural of all crimes. If we be acquainted with ter- 
 rible examples, it is sufficient that their root is spread 
 wide in our society : and I do verily believe, were 
 it possible to ascertain all that it cautiously envel- 
 opes in darkness, we should come to the knowledge 
 of facts, for which, neither in the provision of huma** 
 nor diviue laws, there is adequate vengeance. Let 
 the fond and anxious parent, let the true Christian, 
 and true citizen, reilect on these things, when I call 
 them to the support of this sacred institution ! In the 
 long period of my appearance in this cause, never 
 did I take a ground that ought to have more effect 
 in a Christian assembly, 
 
 I know, my brethren, that you are not less capable 
 of being influenced by appeals to your reason and 
 religion, than by those that are calculated to affect 
 your feelings. Yet let me remind you, on this sub- 
 ject, of the numberless innocent creatures that are 
 daily drawn into receptacles of impurity. What 
 arts are first employed to keep off, for a time, the 
 suspicion of their fate, the affectation of the tcndcresl 
 affection, language the most reserved and specious. 
 1he generosity which bestows all the variety and 
 
279 
 
 iinery of dress, the whirl of continued pleasure and 
 amusement, every thing that can discard reflection, 
 fascinate the youthful heart, and insensibly enervate 
 its proudest propensity ; till the black moment ar- 
 rives when the veil is drawn, and the fairest work 
 of God consigned for ever to the trade of pollution ! 
 I appeal to your own souls, whether there ever was 
 a case in the mysteries of iniquity to inspire more 
 abhorrence, or, viewed with the eyes of humanity 
 alone, that called more affectingly for remedy ? Nay, 
 it is not uncommon to see prostitute caterers for pub- 
 lic vice, exhibiting by their sides, in the very pomp 
 of equipage, those devoted and deluded victims ; 
 as if the works of darkness were not triumph enough 
 to their infernal calling, without shewing, in the face 
 of the sun, how far the indignant feelings of a Chris- 
 tian people could be insulted with impunity. 
 
 It is almost unnecessary to mention the obvious ef- 
 fect of female vice, on the morals of men in the lower 
 class of society. If, id that order of life where, at 
 least, some principles of religion and virtue have 
 been implanted, and much solicitude obtains on the 
 point of honour and reputation, the effect be such as 
 I have represented, what must it be where the evil 
 in question finds no fear of God, no struggle of con- 
 science, no recoil from infamy, to resist the all- per- 
 verting influence ? Look to those seats of intempe- 
 rance, where schemes of depredation, robbery, and 
 blood, are secretly concerted, and you will invaria- 
 bly find abandoned women mixing in their councils, 
 stimulating the wavering, confirming the irresolute., 
 
280 
 
 reproaching the cowardly, hastening the hard, bear- 
 ing down all sentiments of mercy, cheering against 
 the dread of consequences, and dismissing, by their 
 influence, not men but monsters, against the security 
 of property and life. This is also what we are here 
 to prevent. 
 
 To whatever degree of wickedness man may ar- 
 rive, there yet often remains some spark of generous 
 and noble feelings about him. Examples are not 
 wanting of successful appeals to it. But the wicked- 
 ness of women has not a grain of alloy from any 
 sentiment that can soften the soul in the execution 
 of the worst horrors. Adorned with excellence, she 
 soars nearest to the Divinity ; in the consequences 
 of her fall, she descends lower than the abyss 1 Look 
 to your places of execution, and every feeling must 
 be agonized, to see troops of such women receiving 
 the everlasting farewell of the wretches, they con- 
 ducted to that dreadful extremity ! And let ministers 
 of religion say, whether there be one instance in a 
 thousand, of expiring malefactors who do not, with 
 their last breath, pronounce the contagion of such 
 society to be the chief cause of their misfortunes ? 
 There is not, I trust, one individual in this place, 
 whose heart is not bound up with the growth of re- 
 ligion and morality, and tiie unshaken stability of 
 subordination, security and peace in this community. 
 These are objects for which we should eminently 
 live and breathe. Coldness to them is guilt ; zeal 
 for them nearly all virtue. But, though our ardor 
 in this way even impelled us to the sublime exertions 
 
281 
 
 of communicating Christian education, and careful 
 seclusion from vice, to every male child in the me- 
 tropolis, it would be exertion inevitably defeated, 
 did a foul and certain source of corruption to youth 
 continue to be fed by the unresisted influx of deser- 
 ted female infants. I leave you, therefore, to decide 
 in your hearts of what interest and importance is the 
 cause before us. But, if it go to the diminution of a 
 great public evil, it likewise goes to provide for the 
 great personal concern of these destitute creatures ; 
 which is the next consideration I have to urge. 
 
 My brethren, if the institution, for which I plead, 
 go, as I have endeavoured to impress on you, to 
 the extinction of a great public evil, it likewise goes 
 to provide for the great personal concern of these 
 orphans. This is a motive for your bounty, which 
 no minister of God can be justified in passing over. 
 That zeal for the salvation of souls is the . highest 
 distinction of Christian benevolence, every true 
 Christian must feel. It is the sentiment that de- 
 scended from heaven to accomplish the work of our 
 redemption, and passed from the heart of the Re- 
 deemer into those of his disciples, to a degree that 
 filled the heathen world with astonishment. It is 
 the sentiment whose recompense, we read, shall ex- 
 ceed the brilliancy of the stars for ever and ever ; 
 and without which the most zealous of Apostles de- 
 clares, that even the faith to remove mountains, or 
 the eloquence of angels, or the most profuse donations 
 to the poor, would carry in the scale of our account, 
 not the weight of a feather. It is altogether inde- 
 
282 
 
 pendent of natural compassion j operating with the 
 same fervour in the coldest blood, for the happiness 
 of man, when the little interests of time are no more. 
 If we be solemnly commanded to let our light so 
 shine before men, that they may see our good works, 
 it is with a view to this object alone, that the mute 
 eloquence of our example may become the means of 
 their salvation. The more corrupted the world is, 
 the more we are bound to exhibit that light, which, 
 while it shames and rebukes the prevailing degene- 
 racy, goes, at the same time, to resist its contagion. 
 To advance the spiritual interest of our brethren, is 
 the life-blood of our calling. In vain would we 
 build on that species of practice, which avoids equal- 
 ly the character of a sinner and a saint. Under the 
 solemn law of edification we become scandalous be- 
 fore God, when we confine ourselves to the not being 
 scandalous before men. It is not sufficient that we 
 are seen to decline evil, we must be seen, according 
 to our power, to embrace all good. " He that know- 
 "eth to do good," saith St. James, "aud doeth it 
 " not, to him it is sin." And, as a rich man would 
 evidently counteract and insult the just and merciful 
 designs of Providence, were he rich only for himself; 
 or a man gifted with any talent useful to society, did 
 he consign it, without unavoidable necessity, "to inac- 
 tion ; so the Christian, who does not strenuously 
 labour to edify, be his private regularity, his con- 
 cealed righteousness what it may, to him it is sin : 
 because God proposes, in our conduct, a far greater 
 object than ourselves. He proposes to touch, to 
 convert, to save others by the happy ministry of our 
 
283 
 
 open and industrious example ; yes, sometimes Tby 
 the shining light of a single individual, to renew the 
 declining empire of religion, and bring about the 
 salvation of thousands. 
 
 No error, therefore, I repeat, is more gross, com- 
 mon as it is, than to imagine that the solemn obliga- 
 tion of good example is discharged, by not giving 
 bad. Nay, I feel no difficulty in saying that this 
 error may even be more ruinous in its consequences 
 than the example of excessive depravity, which dis<- 
 gusts by its enormity. But when few instances of 
 singular piety and virtue appear, to direct the un- 
 certain steps of youth in the elevated way they 
 should go, to confirm the principles, and support the 
 first fervor of their education, the consequence is, 
 as we daily see, that they quickly fall in with the 
 torrent of semi-christianity, deem every thing allow- 
 able but positive vice ; are led to ally all the plea- 
 sures and abuses of the world with the hopes of their 
 calling, and like multitudes around them, and mul- 
 titudes that went before them, are damned in the 
 bosom of fancied innocence and security. I say 
 fancied security ; for, what semi-christian ever 
 dreamed that he had cause to tremble ? 
 
 It was in part the subject of my last discourse 
 from this place to dissipate the monstrous illusion 
 of those who, contrary to the express letter and spirit 
 of the Gospel, would reconcile their salvation with 
 a life of eternal dissipation. But how many others, 
 With conscience equally tranquil, would seem to 
 
284 
 
 imagine themselves placed upon this earth, not for 
 the happiness of others temporal or everlasting, but 
 to bask and batten in indolence like the pampered 
 animal of the field? What said the generous Uriah, 
 when pressed by David to inglorious ease? While 
 the soldiers of Israel are abroad, and front every 
 danger for the salvation of the children of God, shall 
 I enter my house to eat and to drink ? Education 
 and talents may vary in a degree the nature of our 
 service, but nothing can excuse the Christian from 
 vigorous and unceasiug efforts to promote, in one 
 way or another, the cause of God and of society. 
 It is impossible to open the sacred writings without 
 finding the oblivion of this inexorably denounced. 
 The tree that displays foliage without fruit is com- 
 • mitted to the flames, and the slothful servant is cast 
 out into exterior darkness. What then is to be said 
 of those indifferent lookers on ; who reap largely 
 in a field that they have not sown? What of that 
 prosperity which, in the face of soliciting religion 
 and country, claims the contemptible privilege of 
 having nothing to do? Like mountains remarkable 
 only for their sterility and elevation, that fatigue the 
 earth with their burthen, and chill it with their 
 shadows ; or like those divinities of which the pro- 
 phet speaks, whose temples were adorned with all 
 riches and art ; and whose altars smoked with the 
 choicest victims, yet who took neither interest nor 
 part in the administration of the universe. What- 
 ever the advantages and distinctions of our situation 
 may be, services are the condition by which we hold 
 and enjoy them before God and man. If we be 
 
285 
 
 raised above others, it is not for the purpose of spor- 
 ting in the face of the world a proud and disdainful 
 inutility, but to exist in the whole capacity of our 
 being, for laborious efforts to promote the happiness 
 of others, temporal and everlasting ; for the advance- 
 ment of religion and virtue, the shame and suppres- 
 sion of vice; for vigilant activity, and, if necessary, 
 death, in support of social order and the laws, the 
 present edification of our youthful brethren, the moral 
 and christian cultivation of the infant generation, the 
 diffuse and ready relief of all calamity. This is an 
 outline of the various and noble usefulness to which 
 we are called. Woe unto them who, bound to know 
 and to feel their inviolable engagement to such good, 
 provide nothing for their epitaph, but that they vege- 
 tated and expired. It is not uncommon to hear such 
 Christians descanting with grave and important faces 
 at the tables of luxurious abundance, on the decline, 
 of pious principles and practice. Insulting language ! 
 The cause is but too simple, the too much lack of 
 great and zealous examples in both. This is the 
 true rock of offence to youth. It is not to see here 
 and there a few individuals without religion or morals, 
 whose worst passions are their only divinities ; reason 
 alone is often more than sufficient antidote against 
 the effects of such poison. But it is the; want of 
 adequate inducement to avert their eyes from this 
 specious and alluring practice of semi-ehristians ; 
 for the example which shocks the least, is that which 
 seduces the most. Contagion is invariably found to 
 spread in proportion to the veil that covers it. 
 
 2N 
 
286 
 
 There is still another class of setni-ehristians to 
 whom I owe a word ; and who have not even the 
 eolour of mistake to excuse them. I mean those 
 who, with the best intentions and most zealous dis- 
 positions, are deterred from exhibiting the example 
 they otherwise would afford, by the apprehension of 
 being classed with a particular sect, which the world, 
 to cover its own relaxations, ingeniously represents 
 as hanging out the flag of primitive manners. With 
 the tenets and doctrines of others I have nothing to 
 do ; but this I conceive to be indubitable, that in 
 point of practice there is but one rule for all Chris- 
 tians ; and that it is as glorious openly to do honour 
 to it, as the reverse is opprobrious and criminal, let 
 the colour or pretext be what it may. What ! my 
 brethren, to sacrifice our convictions, our inclinations, 
 our souls, from dread of the world's ridicule ! To 
 place the Supreme Majesty of God in the balance 
 with such a principle ! To know him, I may say, 
 only in secret, while the world has our open homage ! 
 Like the heathen, to reduce him to the degraded 
 state of a domestic idol ; or like Rachel, to conceal 
 and adore him in our tents unknown to our brethren ! 
 Thus it was, with one of the first and most celebrated 
 disciples of our Saviour. This progenitor of half 
 Christians vainly persuaded himself that God would 
 be satisfied with the private declarations of his senti- 
 ments, but, for the rest, that he would graciously 
 condescend to dispense with his outward adoption 
 of a system to which the world attached shame 
 and dishonour. Is not this precisely the state of 
 those who would be Christians in the most rigorous 
 
287 
 
 and exalted sense of the word ; but for the want of 
 resolution to encounter the same formidable conse- 
 quence ? Heavens ! what extremity of weakness and 
 dissimulation is this ! The libertine glories in his 
 vice, and shall Christians blush at and recoil from 
 the highest dignity and glory of their character? Is 
 it to the world then we shall be responsible ? If we 
 be sentenced, will the world stand between us and 
 the execution? If the Lord justify us, what matter 
 who ridicules or condemns us ? Will not every one 
 carry his own burthen before the terrible majesty of 
 him, who will judge the world and its judgments? 
 Do such Christians reflect to what this system of ser- 
 vility and complaisance leads ; that it not only stands 
 iu the way of the infinite good their example would 
 produce, but reduces them to the deplorable necessity 
 of sanctioning and taking part in practices which 
 they secretly detest; of becoming with their eyes 
 open, and with somewhat of affection in their hearts, 
 the cause of perdition to their brethren : nay, casting 
 with trembling hands their very children into the 
 vortex of worldly manners, and thus training them 
 to perish in the face of a menacing religion, and that 
 bleeding affection, that agonizing solicitude for their 
 happiness, present and everlasting, which nature in- 
 spires ? 
 
 To enumerate all the consequences of this unhappy 
 principle would be incompatible with my limits ; a 
 principle too much resembling, and perhaps equal 
 in guilt to the examples we have of early apostacy 
 from the faith. For when a Christian, with the love 
 
288 
 
 and respect of religiou, and its virtues in his heart, 
 yet refuses the open and illustrious testimony he oweg 
 them, no matter for what divinity he does so. It 
 might as well be for a graven image as for the world ; 
 for idols of Pagan superstition, as for the idol I speak 
 of. Let such Christians remember, and beware 
 when they remember, that to them it is peculiarly 
 said : " He that denies me before men, him will I 
 " deny before my Father who is in heaven. " 
 
 I may, perhaps, appear to have wandered in a 
 degree from my subject, in proposing the immortal 
 interests of the creatures before us, as a transcendent 
 motive in support of this great institution. I think 
 the reverse ; for how could I have impressed it more 
 powerfully on your souls, than by shewing that it is 
 not here alone we are called to such ministry, but 
 that the whole tenor of our lives should be zealously 
 directed to the honor, the glory, the progress of a 
 divine religion, and the salvation of our brethren ? 
 With the aid of that victorious grace which God in 
 his mercy sometimes attaches to the delivery of his 
 word, the reflections I have offered on this subject 
 may produce this happy and double effect ; that is, 
 not only stimulate and renew our zeal for the ever- 
 lasting concern of those I plead for, but Lad us to 
 think more seriously of our own. After all, my 
 brethren, we may be busy about many things : but 
 I am sure we have had melancholy lessons enough, 
 in the course of a few months, of the instability of 
 life, to convince and remind those who believe, that 
 there is strictly but one thing necessary. 1 pass to 
 
289 
 
 the last consideration, I mean to urge on this occa- 
 sion. 
 
 Having considered this institution, from the en- 
 larged scale on which it is conducted,- as tending, 
 in a superior degree, to the extinction of an evil 
 most destructive to public morals ; having likewise 
 pressed the support of it as extensively providing 
 for the salvation of such children, it remains to say 
 a word on their temporal destiny. And here, my 
 brethren, the appeal addresses itself to your com- 
 passion, that feeling for calamity which it has plea- 
 sed the God of nature to implant, though in different 
 degrees, in every human heart, and the God of re- 
 velation to enjoin upon all Christians as a superior 
 and indispensable duty ; that feeling which many, 
 perhaps all of you, have- repeatedly found to com- 
 municate in its exercise the most transporting plea- 
 sure ; pleasure which leaves behind it no bitterness 
 or loathing 5 but which, ever stimulated by the past, 
 ever new in the* present, still increases in proportion 
 to the extent and extremity of the misery it relieves. 
 How few are the other enjoyments of man, that can 
 claim this distinction and encomium ! How few of 
 them are supported by any thing but the intoxication 
 of the senses, or the illusions of vanity ! I see the 
 child of dissipation wandering like the bee from 
 flower to flower ; but less fortunate in his labour, 
 collecting nothing for his home, but the melancholy 
 provision of weariness and disgust. 1 see the man 
 of ambition toiling incessantly, sacrificing repose, 
 property and health, sometimes even probity and 
 
290 
 
 honour, for objects that either vanish from the grasp, 
 or lose their fascination after a short interval of pos- 
 session. I see the enamoured of worldly reputation 
 often reaping no other fruit from their distinction, 
 than to hear it ascribed by the envious to popular 
 error. I see the mercenary drudging through life, 
 merely to die in the possession of what they never 
 enjoyed. I see all human passions carrying with 
 them their own punishment and torment. Even the 
 soft flatterer hope, embittering by its suspense and 
 anxiety ; and where hope is no more, I see deeper 
 misery still. In short, in the whole history of the 
 world, and its votaries, I see the severest, yet most 
 righteous penalties, providentially inflicted on that 
 error which seeks for felicity, out of the arms of 
 benevolence and virtue. If we look into the causes 
 of love and respect, we shall find none more certain 
 or more powerful than the interest which we teach 
 the unfortunate, to take in our existence and preser- 
 vation. The truly benevolent are more than beloved ; 
 they are adored. The blessings of the poor, and 
 the reverence of all are shed on them as they pass ; 
 and many a name in this nation will be embalmed 
 in holy recollection, when those of heroes and states- 
 men are forgotten ; even that of him, who now fills 
 the world with astonishment and calamity. Nay, 
 such is the sacred ness which such characters some- 
 times carry along with them, that it has been known, 
 in the very hour of convulsion, to stand between 
 them and the undistinguishing steel of bigotry and 
 treason. In the very countenances of these children, 
 you may read the tender impression which your 
 
291 
 
 humanity produces on their hearts. If they love 
 and respect any thing under heaven, it is you ; and 
 even me, at this moment. That miserable and Hu- 
 miliating dependance, to which the destiny of their 
 birth had reduced them, is forgotten in the tumult 
 of such feelings. Every kind and compassionate 
 look we cast upon them, gives them that innocent 
 but happy consequence in their own eyes, which is 
 beyond all expression. This is the indisputable 
 effect of such benefits as you confer on them ; that 
 the self-affection which nature inspires, becomes in- 
 separably coupled with ardent affection for those to 
 whose mercy they owe all the blessings they enjoy; 
 and if on this, and every day of this nature, we pre- 
 sent them with a bond of renewal, they offer us, 
 they visibly offer us, in return, the glistening and 
 heart-affecting discharge of that great obligation. 
 Oh, my brethren, what it is to be merciful ! Not all 
 that the world could lay in profusion at our feet, 
 would ultimately and permanently bless us without 
 the conscious possession of this god-like virtue. 
 
 Great was the design of God in this decree. He 
 foresaw the infinite temptations, which the world 
 presents to the abuse of his gifts ; but the wretched 
 are his creatures. He, therefore, mercifully com- 
 bines our felicity with their relief, and even crowns 
 it here below with honour and glory. 
 
 Though I proposed, in this concluding part of my 
 discourse, to seize every feature in the temporal con- 
 dition of these children, that could speak with any 
 
292 
 
 power to your hearts, on reflection, would it not look 
 like doubt ; would it not appear that, in so doing, 
 I was addressing you for the first, or nearly for the 
 first time, in this cause ; or, that I deemed the so- 
 lemn and sacred motives which I have already urged, 
 insufficient to decide you? No, my brethren, 1 do 
 more than depend on what has been said. I con- 
 sider the fate of this institution, though not a word 
 were uttered in support of it, to be happily determi- 
 ned. It is more in obedience to my nature and ha- 
 bits, that on these occasions 1 cast about for new 
 ground, and am warm in addressing you, than from 
 any sense of its necessity. When I plead with you 
 for other objects, I descend from this place with 
 trembling anxiety as to the issue ; but for the cause 
 I now plead, God in his superior mercy has long, 
 long attached this proved distinction ; that it comes, 
 it is seen, it conquers. Yes, my brethren, he has 
 placed it on an eminence from which it never can 
 fall, without grasping, in that event, all the pillars 
 of religion and compassion, and mixing them in one 
 common ruin for ever. While woman glories in 
 unspotted virtue, or man generously recoils from the 
 arts and trade of the villain, who seduces and de- 
 stroys, can it want ardent and plighted protectors ? 
 Oh, my brethren, how often have I painted in the 
 colours which my imagination could supply, the 
 destiny of such children when deserted ! Such pu- 
 rity handed over to shameless vice ! such forms to 
 loathsomeness and disease ! such infinite title to com- 
 miseration to nakedness, and famiue, and all varieties 
 of wretchedness ! such finished candidates for a ca* 
 
293 
 
 peer of virtue and a blessed futurity, to curse the hour 
 they were born through time and eternity ! But ) 
 forget my resolution of leaving you to the influence 
 of past impressions. These are the objects that pro- 
 duced, and will renew them. These are the crea- 
 tures that have long led you to reflect on the horrors 
 and disasters that exist around you ; and have given 
 you to know how far it is possible to approach Hea- 
 ven in the feeling that prevents and deplores them. 
 Those are the objects that have contributed most to 
 constitute this city. What, my brethren? Why, the 
 capital of Christian mercy throughout the Christian 
 world. Yea, those little orphans; orphans did I 
 say ? Even that title you will recollect ; though fa- 
 miliar to every ear, though repeated in every breath, 
 it is worthy of a pause. For to the heart that feels, 
 it says infinite things. May God defend our chil- 
 dren from the misfortune. The appeal is indeed 
 here strong to the feelings of those, who know what 
 it is to love and adore their own. Let then this 
 calamitous distinction in the children before you, 
 have its weight in your recollections : as your own 
 are dear to your hearts, the delight of your eyes^ 
 and the sources of your happiness ; as the very 
 thought of their becoming orphans at a tender age 
 chills you with consternation, continue to be the pa- 
 rent of the parentless. For, not one in that multi- 
 tude, or the multitude that has passed through this 
 institution, in the course of years, ever remembers to 
 have been warmed in any bosom, or caressed by any 
 hand but yours. This is truly an interesting con- 
 sideration ; and were it possible to consult the ashes 
 
 2 
 
294 
 
 of the dead, perhaps we might learn that the founda- 
 tion-stone of this charity was laid by the irresistible 
 effect of the single word Orphan, but above all, 
 Ffmale Orphan, on the most compassionate of 
 hearts ! 
 
 I will trouble you no more. That this appeal has 
 been brought forward at an unpropitious period of 
 the season I do deeply lament, and lament the more, 
 my brethren, as the misfortune has chiefly arisen from 
 the condition of my health. God knows how I have 
 felt, and with what difficulty I have met you on this 
 clay. Should the event be fortunate, 1 shall be bles- 
 sed ; should it not, which Heaven avert ! I shall 
 be resigned to the first cloud that has ever obscured 
 the brilliant face of this cause. In your hands and 
 hearts is that event, but peculiarly with Him who 
 rules the feelings of every heart as he lists. If I 
 behold around me less affluence than would have 
 been at a more favourable time, I behold still the 
 same fulness and elevation of mercy. And where 
 that divine and mighty priuciple exists, it will hear 
 me ; it cannot but hear me, when I conjure it to view, 
 and feel for the only situation of peril in which this 
 great and popular institution was ever placed. A 
 double exertion from every individual in this place, 
 at such a crisis, is what my long, long knowledge 
 of you teaches me to look for. What to you will 
 be little ; what to you when done, will be more 
 happiness than ever, to the cause more Striking evi- 
 dence of its merits and stability than ever, to God a 
 more striking tribute of honor and glory than ever. 
 Amen. 
 
SERMON XIII. 
 
 [For the Poor Chrildren of the Parish of St. Nicholas Without^ 
 March 10, 1805.] 
 
 Job, v., v. 7. 
 Man is lorn to trouble, as the sparks fly upward. 
 
 I SHALL offer no apology, my brethren, for 
 directing a short portion of your attention to a sub- 
 ject, not immediately connected with that which has 
 brought us together. It presents itself, alas! too 
 imperiously to my mind ; and I shall, therefore, I 
 trust, find an excuse in your hearts, when I call you 
 to recollect that man, in every situation of life, from 
 the cottage to the throne, is born to trouble, as the 
 sparks fly upwards ; and that blessed are they who, 
 under every visitation of heaven, have learned to bear 
 with submission, and where to draw for consolation. 
 Unhappily, my brethren, every day too much dis- 
 plays our activity in the pursuit of shadows, and 
 every day finishes, by calling on the night to renew 
 our powers for the same chace on the morrow. 
 
 It is easier to sound the depth of the ocean, than 
 the immeasurable folly of human inclinations. The 
 heart of man is a labyrinth, of whose embarrassed 
 and uncertain ways, God alone can have a know- 
 ledge. Light, inconstant, eternally at variance with 
 
296 
 
 himself, he forms desires that are as suddenly de- 
 stroyed by other desires. He loves every thing; 
 he loves nothing. What pleased him yesterday, 
 displeases him to-day : the ohject is the same, the 
 ailectiou is changed. Though the world should put 
 him in possession of all its delights, and all its en- 
 joyments, they would he insufficient to fix and satisfy; 
 for he has one attachment nearly invincibly incom- 
 patible with rest and content, namely, an everlasting 
 attachment to change and novelty. 
 
 The love of happiness is essential to \\h being. 
 When the appearance presents itself, he flies to it 
 with rapidity. The moment that commences, nearly 
 puts a period to his enjoyment. What does it serve 
 ns to possess, when we never cease to desire? Such 
 is, too truly, the prevailing character of man, till the 
 trouble arrives that brings wisdom on its gloomy 
 wings, and tells him, too clearly, that he is to look 
 for true and durable felicity only beyond the grave. 
 It is thus, my brethren, that God, in his peculiar 
 mercy, prevents us from burying our hearts and af- 
 fections in the dust we trample on. It is thus, he 
 inspires a noble sentiment for our everlasting coun- 
 try. It is thus that he dissolves, often in a moment, 
 the intoxication of fugitive possessions, in the soul 
 of an immortal being, whom he has greatly destined 
 to take possession even of himself. How few would 
 envy tbe mt>st exalied condition of human prosperity, 
 were they given, by such salutary means, to reflect 
 on its obligations, its dangers, and its eares ! What 
 
 it, in the eye of religion, but an awful distinction, 
 
297 
 
 which, by raising us above other men, obliges us to 
 more eminence in virtue, and virtuous example ; or, 
 if accompanied by office and authority, but a strict 
 subjection, which multiplies our duties, fills up every 
 moment of our lives, and renders us at best, but 
 honourable victims of the public ? 
 
 What are its riches, but a sacred deposit, which 
 God has intrusted to our hand, to be touched with 
 discretion and trembling, save for purposes of hu- 
 manity alone ? What are its pleasures, but, generally, 
 either vices to be abhorred, or puerilities to be de- 
 spised ? 
 
 Woe to those whom God has not deemed worthy 
 to be enlightened on those truths ! Look to Solomon 
 in all his glory ; the immensity of his treasures ; the 
 magnificence of his palaces ; his flourishing states ; 
 beloved of his subjects ; respected by his neighbours ; 
 celebrated and admired through every region of the 
 earth. Then, turn from this dazzling picture of all 
 human prosperity, to contemplate Job, deprived, in a 
 moment, of all his earthly possessions ; the children 
 he adored, torn, in a moment, from his embrace j 
 cruelly abandoned by his relations ; basely insulte<J 
 by his friends ; stretched upon a dunghill, naked an4 
 forlorn ; his body covered with putrifying sores ; ii} 
 a word, reduced to a situation which no imaginatioil 
 can fix on, without extraordinary horror ! 
 
 Which of the two, my brethren, do you conceive 
 to have been most favoured of God, the man whon} 
 
 
298 
 
 excessive prosperity plunged at length into the very 
 abyss of impurity ; or he whose unparalleled adver- 
 sity became, at once, the proof and triumph of his 
 virtue? I need not say what the answer of a true 
 Christian would be, or of any individual capable of 
 distinguishing the true sublime of the human charac- 
 ter! 
 
 It is not the gloomy visitation of a being, averse 
 to the repose of his creatures, much less of a jealous 
 tyrant, who delights in their sufferings, but the mer- 
 ciful interference of a tender father, to arrest the per- 
 dition of his children. This is the sole end proposed, 
 by every ill that afflicts the individual or desolates 
 societies. 
 
 In all the various horrors and calamities of war, 
 we should behold alone the outstretched arm of God ; 
 in conquerors and heroes, the winged messengers of 
 his vengeance; in plague, pestilence, and famine, 
 :he awful variety of his terrific lessons ; in the whole 
 -rain of wretchedness, private or social, to which man 
 s heir, the operation of that infinite wisdom and 
 mercy, which would embitter one portion of our ex- 
 istence, tor the everlasting felicity of the other. But 
 are there not, in the treasures of divine mercy, means 
 of instruction to man, less severe but equally power- 
 ful ? Less severe if you will, but rarely so powerful. 
 Grod would lead us to what is right by the light of 
 reason : this natural resource ought, in itself, to be 
 sufficient to stem the force of human passions. I 
 know nothing that ambition eagerly climbs for, or 
 interest grasos at, or pleasure pursues, or the baser 
 
299 
 
 propensities of man are known to indulge in, that 
 inspire not the pity and contempt of deliberate reason. 
 
 By the aid of this single principle, many heathens 
 learned to despise what Christians adore, and to 
 place their happiness where Christians place it not, 
 in the practice of virtue alone. 
 
 Tf the influence of religion, in regulating the con- 
 duct, be rare, that of philosophy is unknown. Every 
 day presents the example of men of superior mental 
 endowments ; many whose talents and knowledge 
 would lit them for the highest and most difficult pur- 
 poses of society ; many to whom scarce any thing in 
 the volume of nature is a secret, either on the earth 
 beneath, or in the heavens above ; many who en- 
 lighten by their writings, or charm by their elo- 
 quence : every day, I say, the world beholds men 
 of this favoured description, as weak in their pur- 
 suits as they are corrupt in their morals, running 
 with the herd of fools the gaudy ring of all its follies ; 
 equally fascinated by pomp, by shew, by equipage, 
 by costly decorations, costly entertainments, and all 
 the splendid pageants of vanity ; not unfrequently 
 steeped to the very lips in its most degrading vices. 
 
 So little effect has even the highest degree of rea- 
 son, on the weakness and passions of man ! Nor doth 
 God, in the general, more effectually instruct us by 
 other means. Too often, in vain, is the volume of 
 his law, with all its promises and terrors, expanded 
 before us. In vain do his ministers cry aloud ou 
 
300 
 
 the dangers and abuse of a too fortunate condition. 
 u I have called upon them in their abundance," says 
 the Lord, u and they will not hear." In vain does 
 he call on us to recollect him, in the sublime and 
 ravishing spectacle of creation. In vain does he lay 
 before us the example of others, victims of every 
 degree and of every nature. In the midst of all in- 
 ducements to reflection, all ground of alarm, lethar- 
 gic and insensible in the calm and painted bosom of 
 prosperity ; it is the tempest alone that imperiously 
 lifts our eyes, to the great and insulted author of our 
 benefits. Affliction is become almost our only school ; 
 and if it be necessary to tear up the bosom of the 
 earth, in order to force it to produce fruits, so is it 
 equally the human heart, to give it fertility in wisdom 
 and virtue. All experience, and all Scripture prove, 
 that there is not, under heaven, a source of more in- 
 curable blindness and depravity, than prosperity un- 
 mixed with tribulation. The most enlightened amongst 
 the heathens decided it to be a more difficult and 
 glorious conquest in man over himself, to support 
 such a state without degradation, than the worst ills 
 with heroic fortitude. And for this plain reason, 
 that the former, from the power which it affords of 
 indulging the passions, as naturally relaxes the noble 
 energies of the mind, as the latter calls them forth 
 into superior and dignified action. 
 
 For one example, where the benefits of God have 
 not caused him to be forgotten, there are innumerable 
 in Holy Writ, where his chastisements alone could 
 bring him to the recollection of his ungrateful crea- 
 
301 
 
 lures. It was only while the Israelites groaned un- 
 der the yoke of Babylon, that they thought of in- 
 voking " the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of 
 46 Jacob." Nor do we find among the vast multitude 
 that followed Jesus Christ in the course of bis min- 
 istry, more than three, who, in the remotest degree, 
 could be styled ehikirafe uf prosperity. All the rest 
 were, exclusively, those whom the pressure of various 
 and excessive affliction forced to cry aloud, "Son 
 " of David, have mercy upon us." 
 
 So true is it that affliction, of whatever nature it; 
 may be, is the surest principle of our return to God ; 
 and that his temples are never more frequented than 
 when his judgments lean heavy on the earth ! If 
 more evidence were necessary, we have it in the 
 strong language of Jesus Christ and his Apostles, 
 on the fatal consequences of prosperity, in which I 
 see no ground of hope or consolation, but that ex- 
 ceptions are not declared impossible. 
 
 Every Christian concerned will naturally apply 
 that ground of confidence to himself; and hence the 
 source of a too general and dangerous tranquillity. 
 I am not ignorant that many over- ingenious Chris- 
 tians have found out the secret of persuading them- 
 selves, that all the denunciations in this case are 
 merely held out to terrify. This is certainly a very 
 happy and convenient discovery, should it not un- 
 fortunately be refuted by the same experience as thai 
 of the rich man in the parable. On this principle 
 
 3P 
 
302 
 
 we may faney a security in the mercy of God to every 
 enormity. 
 
 For ine, I deem it better to recommend attention 
 to the letter of the law, and firm conviction that he? 
 who, either in the possession or desire of wealth and 
 prosperity, becomes exclusively enamoured of the 
 present, has cause to be alarmed if he have faith ; or 
 if he have faith and be not alarmed, may set himself 
 down as a victim. 
 
 But it may be said, that, if occasional trials be a 
 check on the natural tendency of prosperity to cor- 
 rupt, they often likewise add the guilt of murmur and 
 revolt against God. True, my brethren, Pharoah 
 remained hardened, under the most dreadful and 
 extraordinary experience of divine visitation. But 
 to this I answer ; shew me the benefit of God which 
 man does not abuse ! Why, therefore, not sometimes 
 abuse his chastisements? If we sometimes behold 
 wretches approaching even death in all its terrors, 
 with sounds of blasphemy on their lips, what does 
 it prove, but that affliction is still an extraordinary 
 mercy, since nothing but extreme iniquity can resist 
 it? 
 
 If it do not invariably reclaim, may not another 
 reason be, that every expedient is employed to pre- 
 vent its salutary impression? What is the ordinary 
 conduct of worldlings, when the career of their vices 
 or their follies is embittered by some unexpected 
 Ice, but instantly to throw obstacles in the way 
 
SOS 
 
 of reflection, by plunging deeper and deeper into ail 
 excesses? Flying with renewed rapidity from one 
 scene of tumult and dissipation to another, often 
 deluging their reason in brutal intoxication. Thus 
 proving, as I before said, beyond the possibility of 
 doubt, the effect of affliction, since it requires such 
 study and stratagem to render it abortive. 
 
 Again what a blessing, where it does not reclaim, 
 that it goes frequently to prevent the possibility of 
 further offence ! When disease and infirmity con- 
 demn a woman to retreat, whose life has been passed 
 in supponing the empire of dissipation, what, though 
 the humiliating ravage on her person be not sufficient 
 to detach her affeciw, ls f rom a World that abandons 
 her, it is euough that the ^j j } s no longer on the 
 altar, and the cause of virtue and religion benefitted 
 by its misfortune. Or suppose a libertine, cut off, 
 by a broken constitution and mouldering frame, from 
 pursuits, that cover families with mourning, and 
 society with hapless prostitutes ; surely, though such 
 wretches should resist the intended mercy of God, 
 and still glory and feed on the recollection of their 
 brutal achievements; surely, there is at least a ground 
 to rejoice, that the early and just judgment of God 
 becomes a source of happiness and salvation to mul- 
 titudes of unprotected innocents. 1 have done with 
 this view of the subject. You have seen, in the best 
 light I could place it, the general and salutary effect 
 of affliction. It shall be the object of one or two 
 reflections more, to shew how a Christian ought to 
 suffer. 
 
304 - ; 
 
 Nothing is more coiamon than to hear Christians 
 reproaching those who would alarm them on the 
 perils of their condition, with perfect ignorance of 
 many severe trials to which even the highest state 
 of prosperity is exposed. You are deceived, my 
 brethren ; we are not ignorant what many are doom- 
 ed to experience in this way. We know that the 
 world is a flattering tyrant, that conducts its votaries 
 in pomp and decoration to the sacrifice. We know 
 that every state, as every passion, has its peculiar 
 victims. 
 
 One man, in the solitude of his study, will wither 
 over the productions of his genius, 3*>d sacrifice an 
 age of life and enjoyment, fo»* -" instant of reputa- 
 tion. Another will pas«^ liate ty devote every faculty 
 of his mind, and every hour of his life, to the allure- 
 ment of dignities and honours ; thus blindly sacri- 
 iicing.the substantial happiness within his power, in 
 the pursuit of brilliant chimeras. Some become the 
 miserable sport of a passion for glory: some the 
 suffering and degraded victims of a passion for mo- 
 ney ; at once the scorn of mankind, the horror of 
 religion, and, by a just judgment, carrying within 
 their breasts the ever- waking principle of their tor- 
 ment. 
 
 Alas ! my brethren, if religion have had its niar- 
 fyrs, perhaps the greatest of all martyrs are to be 
 found within the circle of the world's reputed en- 
 joyments. But the truth, the awful truth I would 
 impress is this ; that he who suffers for reputation or 
 
305 
 
 ihe things of this earth, has to look for his recom- 
 pense where he has placed his heart. He ma\ re- 
 ceive it, or he may not; that is, the ambitious may 
 have his power and honour ; the avaricious his gold ; 
 the soldier his laurels ; the man of taleuts his name ; 
 but there is no crown for the affliction of the Chris- 
 tian, in whatever state it may be fouad, or from what- 
 ever passion it may arise, if it be not ultimately 
 sanctified by religion, 
 
 Though his life should be exposed to a thousand 
 perils, and even his body so mutilated, as scarcely 
 one half of the individual to sn^ive the other, in the 
 service of hi« country : if nis motives be not Christian, 
 he will, with respect to his immortal prospects, have 
 suffered in vain : for, nothing but what is referred 
 to God can return to God. 
 
 In the next place, it is necessary we should endure 
 our portion of ills with profound resignation. The 
 calling of a Christian is the imitation of Christ. 
 Sublime as such a destination may be, St. Paul 
 expressly lays it down as indispensable. " For 
 " whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to 
 " be conformed to the image of his Son." 
 
 It is not given to man to suspend the career of 
 nature ; to appease the ocean aud the storm, or give 
 animation to the grave. Jesus Christ did not save 
 by the glorious demonstration of his power, but by 
 his sufferings and humiliations. 
 
306 
 
 What was therefore the great example of the 
 divine justice, we are required to make the close 
 and eager object of our imitations. It is not meant 
 however, that, to become a disciple of Jesus Christ, 
 we are to run in search of afflictions, which provi- 
 dence may not have designed for us ; since in defect 
 of these, a true spirit of evangelical detachment is 
 sufficient to establish our conformity to that divine 
 model. But I say, for the consolation of the afflicted 
 Christian, that his conformity with that model is 
 most perfect ; for Jesus Christ became, not in theory 
 but in practice, the man of sorrow, and emptied the 
 cup which his FatW* presented him, to the lees, for 
 the salvation of mankind. 
 
 Wherever, therefore, I see affliction supported with 
 heavenly patience, I see the blessed reproduction 
 of our divine Masters example. Nor do I hesi- 
 tate to say, that, after God, there is nothing so sa- 
 cred on earth, as a just man rising superior to af- 
 fliction. Though Job, in the season of his prosperity, 
 was celebrated through his nation for justice and 
 probity ; though he was eminently, as we read, the 
 father of the orphan and the indigent, it was not this, 
 that so much proved the greatness of his character, 
 as the divinity of his patience in that horrible ex- 
 tremity where deception was impossible. It is not 
 when the ocean is calm and the heavens serene, that 
 we pronounce Ion the ability of the pilot. 
 
 Behold the majestic oak, whose towering and 
 pompous head is tormented by the storm ! though 
 
307 
 
 the earth be strewed around with the wreck of its 
 luaucbca, the mighty trunk remains firm and un- 
 shaken amidst the iury of the elements. Such is the 
 grand and immoveable position of the Christian 
 amidst the blasts of tribulation. Some decree of 
 fortitude has in such cases been inspired by philoso- 
 phy ; but more than fortitude, more than submission ; 
 yes, peace and joy can belong only to the disciple 
 of Jesus Christ. 
 
 This it was that confounded the Caesars ; abashed 
 their bloody instruments, and gave to Christianity 
 the empire of the world. Paul, astonishing the 
 proudest sages of Athens and of Rome by his sub- 
 lime and sacred eloquence ; Paul, adored at Ephesus 
 as a god ; Paul, healing thc leased, and enlighten- 
 ing nations, uiu nut trunk himself as worthy of his 
 divine Master by all his labours and prodigies, as 
 by the chains he wore ; and yet, my brethren, how 
 few of us receive affliction as we ought! What sal- 
 lies of impatience, when it is any thing like extreme I 
 "What efforts to extract the salutary dart from our 
 bosoms ! Where is the Christian sublime enough, 
 even to invoke it as the only real test of virtue, 
 which too nearly resembles those precious plants, 
 that require to be pressed and bruised, in order to 
 extract their perfume! Alas, my brethren, we do 
 not even generously and gratefully recollect, how 
 peculiarly Heaven has favoured us under the ills we 
 know ; that we possess various resources denied to 
 thousands of our fellow- creatures ; that in many ex- 
 tremities, our abundance supplies multiplied aids 
 
308 
 
 ami attentions ; that in all, and perhaps the severest 
 of all, when the tomb **as devoured P*» person dear- 
 est to onr hearts, our tears have a wider refuge in 
 the sympathy of friends. In a word, that if we 
 placed in a balance, on the one hand our afflictions, 
 and on the other our consolations, we should find 
 yet more to nurse our corruption, than to promote 
 our salvation. 
 
 Great God ! did we rightly consider the condition 
 of those beings, who are born to the extreme of all 
 calamity, who, in the bed of disease, or amidst the 
 honors of intolerable poverty, scarce know one gleam 
 of comfort ; to whom the slenderest relief, or casual 
 accent of pity is sudden happiness and joy ! it is 
 then, we should learn wiw t think of our own af- 
 flictions, which borrow their bitterness uuly trom ha- 
 bits of too much felicity : it is then, that our want 
 of submission would be changed into ardent thanks- 
 giving; and that, less occupied by the. few trials 
 that fall to our lot, than by the affecting conviction 
 of those we have been spared, we should rather 
 tremble at the indulgence of Heaven, than complain 
 of its severity. 
 
 Methinks I cannot select a more proper moment, 
 for bringing the cause of those children to your re- 
 collection. 
 
 Though I have presumed to employ the time, 
 usually devoted on those occasions, either to general 
 reflections on the virtue of charity, or the benefit of 
 
309 
 
 religions education, I trust in God, that thisy my first 
 deviation from common practice, will not prove in- 
 jurious. Perhaps, when you reflect that it has saved 
 me the necessity of torturing a most barren topic, 
 and you the pain of hearing it tortured, I may the 
 more readily be excused. 
 
 If these children possess, in common with all of 
 their class, a clear title to your protection, they like- 
 wise possess, as most of you I believe know, another 
 nearly peculiar to themselves. On this distinction 
 I have likewise often dwelt, and found in the result 
 of those repeated appeals in their behalf, that extra- 
 ordinary cases have invariably produced extraordi- 
 nary mercy. Were it the fortune of this institution, 
 not to interest, as it has done, the upper and middle 
 ranks of the public at large, it would not live an 
 hour. This every individual, acquainted with the 
 resources of the parish in which it stands, must know 
 to be a truth. 
 
 I have often thought, that it would be a most 
 beneficial and charitable improvement on the present 
 system, were all the Protestant establishments in 
 this city, for the education of poor infants, consolida- 
 ted into a few, on an extensive scale; into which ad- 
 mission should be given without distinction of pa- 
 rishes. By this means, protection would be extended, 
 in the proportion it ought, to those impoverished 
 quarters where destitute infants swarm, and are ne 
 cessitous to a degree that excites equal astonishment 
 and horror: and. what I conceive to be a much 
 
 2 Q 
 
310 
 
 greater evil, live in the very focus of all contagion, 
 all impurity, immoral and treasonable. For no man 
 can be ignorant, or can deny, that all the experience 
 we have in this metropolis, of violated laws and 
 violated peace, has issued from those too- much-ne- 
 glected and proscribed hives of every desperate, fu- 
 rious, and sanguinary passion. 
 
 Thus, indeed, would the end of education be hap- 
 pily answered, and that duty and attachment to par- 
 ticular establishments, which a residence in this or 
 that parish creates, be changed into interest for the 
 general object. 
 
 I would submit it to the impartial reason of any 
 individual, whether the parish, whose advocate 1 
 now am, which has contained for many years past 
 a population of twenty thousand souls, (though now 
 diminished, as to male adults, from a cause which 
 I shall hereafter mention,) and those generally of a 
 cast the most abject and miserable, ought, in the eye 
 of policy, religion, or humanity, to be confined to an 
 institution of twenty children? 
 
 Yet so it is ; and I bless the great God of mercy, 
 and sovereign protector of society, that 1 have found, 
 in the humanity of the public at large, means of ac- 
 complishing so much. But, striking as the necessity 
 of my case is, what increase must it not have receiv- 
 ed from the multitude of wretches under charges too 
 notoriously founded, whom the peculiar mercy of 
 Government has Buffered to pass into the service of 
 
311 
 
 the army or navy : and still more, who, though na 
 way implicated, have voluntarily embraced the same 
 resource, and equally left their families to their fate, 
 from positive inability to procure them any thing like 
 support, under the excessive price of every thins; 
 necessary to keep body and soul together ! The con- 
 sequence of this is as clear, as it is shocking to every 
 feeling of humanity. I will not attempt to describe 
 it, my brethren. Whatever the colour of the extrem- 
 ity may be. when families are stripped of their only 
 stay, I know enough of your hearts to say, that " you 
 " too are painters." For me it is sufficient to state 
 facts ; sufficient to shew that, on a case which you 
 always knew and admitted to be palpably extreme, 
 God has stamped new and inscrutable demonstration* 
 
 For you it is to conceive, if the number of most 
 wretched infants, who before looked up to the chance 
 of being admitted into the bosom of this little insti- 
 tution, wrung the bosom of the beholder, what it must 
 be now, under the additional load of distress that has 
 come upon their district. I do solemnly declare, 
 that, when 1 am called upon to fill a vacancy among 
 the few you behold, I deem it almost as much.cruel- 
 ty as mercy to make an election : when I look to the 
 How of tears, the depth of sorrow, the disappointed 
 aspect of that wretchedness, which hard necessity 
 obliges me to reject ; if I rejoice one poor creature, 
 and the palpitating heart of the mother who bore it, 
 I deliver innumerable others to increased misery and 
 despair. 
 
512 
 
 You will judge, therefore, whether or not, I im- 
 plore you on substantial grounds, to continue, at 
 least the past measure of your favours to this insti- 
 tution. Should God inspire you, from what you have 
 heard, to do more, you shall see, you shall enjoy the 
 effect of it on our next appearance before you. It 
 has been the fortune of my life to lead you, step by 
 step, to great things in behalf of many similar insti- 
 tutions. Why should I not, under God, look for 
 the same fortune in a case like this ? Unless it be 
 true, that divine religion and divine humanity lose 
 their iniluence in proportion to the maguitude and. 
 sublimity of the call upon them ! 
 
 I am not cool enough, on these occasions, to weigh 
 the chance of distant casualty : that is, to bestow a 
 thought on the possibility of your receding at a fu- 
 ture day. My duty and my feelings impel me to 
 employ every nerve of my strength, not only in the 
 relief of the objects before me, but of the liviog and 
 unparalleled misery in the eye of my mind. 
 
 Futurity will provide for itself. The orphan will 
 have t^ie same God ! What, though 1 have recentlj 
 seen the school of the parish in which 1 stand, fail- 
 ing to draw sufficiency for its support? Have I not 
 likewise seen, that no sooner has this apparent mis- 
 fortune been generally made known, than relief be- 
 gan to flow in its wonted profusion ? 
 
 " Men of little faith," Irani more confidence in 
 Him who has said, "that i^otheis should abandon 
 
313 
 
 " th^ir babes, but the work he has raised shall never 
 "■be -abandoned." I adjure you, therefore, without 
 dread of future consequence, to meet the necessity 
 I laid before you as it ought to be met. Let such 
 an example prove that decided attention to the gene- 
 ral objects shall at length become predominant, and 
 generations yet unborn will bless the reign of such a 
 sentiment. 
 
 I know that a congregation variously composed, 
 must be various in its efforts ; but one additional 
 shilling, from those who have little, will mark the in- 
 fluence of reason, and justice, and true mercy, in 
 this case, as powerfully as twenty additional guineas 
 from the opulent and great. Were I inclined to 
 add to an infinitude of motives, 1 might still say, 
 what must deeply interest every true lover of his 
 country and the empire, that there is scarcely one of 
 those children, and few in the multitude for whom 
 I still more warmly plead, who are not born of fa- 
 thers, who either actually serve, or have perished in 
 the service of their country. 
 
 I remember, during our civil contest for every 
 thing dear and sacred to the heart of civilized and 
 religious man, that the representation of this single 
 claim would produce, on the spot, a contribution of 
 twelve hundred pounds. 
 
 Is our present contest less sublime and awful ? 
 Would the soil we tread have less horrors to appre- 
 hend in the event of.. a triumphant invader? Great 
 
314 
 
 God ! what havoc does ambition make among thy 
 works ? I see it sitting at this moment, in ghastly 
 triumph; on a throne still wet with the blood of its 
 rightful possessor ! I see it dragging hoary and trem- 
 bling religion from a distant region, and forcing it to 
 the guilt and baseness of consecrating this foul usur- 
 pation 1 I see, of surrounding nations, some chained 
 to its footstool, and ground to the very dust in its 
 pillage and rapacity ; some compelled to wield their 
 energies in support of its crimes ; some still permit- 
 ted to breathe by its insulting forbearance; and in 
 the midst of all this, I hear it mocking the under- 
 standing and feeling of mankind, by the specious 
 accents of peace and philanthropy. 
 
 .Excuse these reflections, my brethren ! They are 
 only offered to shew what God has destined us to 
 resist, and that if ever there were cause for glorious 
 pride in the human soul, every member of this em- 
 pire, even the most abject, should feel it when he 
 looks at the stand it makes at this solemn day. The 
 unshaken, the solitary bulwark of religion, of free- 
 dom, of property, of life, against the scourge, the 
 Attila of the world ! 
 
 Let this exalted consideration swell your munifi- 
 cence on this occasion, as it should swell your hearts, 
 if you be sensible of the overflowing and singular 
 wretchedness that looks up to you this day. Re- 
 member likewise, that it bears a distinction that can- 
 not be contemplated by the patriot, by the Christian, 
 without a feeling of extraordinary interest and af- 
 
315 
 
 fection. Remember not the character or offences of 
 their fathers ; for one drop of blood, shed in such a 
 cause, might almost atone before God and man for 
 years of iniquity. 
 
 What have I left unsaid that could be said in such 
 a cause ? Nothing can I collect, from the general 
 countenance around me, that my hopes shall be dis- 
 appointed. Yes, my brethren, 1 am full of confi- 
 dence : even from this pulpit I can see that the only 
 enemy it has, namely, the whisper of the world and 
 and its little iuterest, the God of mercy has enabled 
 me to vanquish. My whole soul, I confess, is en- 
 gaged in the success of this particular appeal to you. 
 What could have inspired me with more earnestness 
 than I have ever before shewn, but an uncommon 
 cause ? Would it be new to me to succeed in the 
 cause of unprotected innocence ? Oh no, my brethren. 
 Nothing I repeat, nothing but a case, in all its views, 
 the most interesting and calamitous, Could have given 
 a spring to my feelings, and redoubled ardour and 
 perseverance to my entreaties. 
 
 May the God of soeiety, and the Father of the 
 fatherless, be in every heart here present, the giver 
 on this day, and it will be a day registered in letters 
 of everlasting light, in that blessed region to which 
 we all aspire, and to which we shall thus arrive, 
 through the infinite mercies of Jesus Christ, Ova 
 Saviour and Redeemer. 
 
316 
 
 And now to God the Father, God the Son, and 
 God the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, for 
 ever and ever. Amen. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Joseph Kakestraw, Printer, 
 Philadelphia. 
 
» V 
 
14 °££ WHICH BOKKOWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 ssS 
 
 MfiO 
 
 . 11 "1 ' 
 
 **&*+ 
 
U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 CD3flflD3bflfl 
 
 TzjLm 
 
 *V- 
 
 
 ^cV 
 
 Vs* 
 

 ■ 
 
 -