4 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 SER3IONS, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 PUBLIC MEANS OF GRACE; 
 
 THE 
 
 FASTS AND FESTIVALS OF THE CHURCH; 
 
 ON 
 
 SCRIPTLRE CHARACTERS, 
 
 AND 
 
 Various Practical Subjects. 
 
 BythelateRiGHTREv.THEOOOREDEHON,D.D 
 
 RECTOR OF ST. MICHAELS CIII'RCH, CHARLESTON ; 
 
 Auii OUbop of the Prutenant Epi5co(»l Church in the Dioccss of Soutb-CaroUna. 
 
 IN TIVO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. ir. 
 
 CHARLESTON: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY E. THAYER, 
 
 AT HIS TBEOLOGICAL BOOK-STORE, BROAD-STREET. 
 
 A. E. Miller, Printer. 
 1821.
 
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 "Sermons, on the Public Means of (imco; the Fasts and I'c«tl»«l« of tb* Church ; on Srrl^ 
 ture Characters and Variims rrnctical SubjecU. Dy tlir late Richt Re». Tl>ro«lorc r»rb«n, 
 D. D. Rector of St. Michael's Church, Charloslon -, ami Ili>hop of th« ProtMUal Epifoofml 
 Church in the Diocess of South-Carolina. In Two Volmnrs." 
 
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 O" The profits arising from the sale of this edition, will be applied to the \ae of the Protcftajit 
 Episcopal Society for the Advancement of Christianiiy in Soutli-CaroUlM.
 
 ^^ -7 7 
 
 V. Z 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. U. 
 
 FACE 
 
 SERMOX XLIV. 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 Acts, iv. 33. 
 
 And with sreat power cave the Apostles witness of 
 the re^rrcction of the Lord JesuSj - 1 
 
 SEKxMON XLV. 
 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 I THKSSALOiriAAS, iv. 14. 
 
 Jf ICC believe that Jesus died and rose again, even 
 [ so them, also, icho sleep in JesuSj will God 
 
 bring with hitn, - - - 12 
 
 
 ofov>:j>::^
 
 tV CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON XLVI. 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 CoLOSSlA5S, ii. 10. 
 
 And ye are complete in him, - - 19 
 
 SERMON XLVII. 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 Hebrbtcsi is- 24. 
 
 For Christ is not entered into the hohj places made 
 ivith hands, which are the f mires of the true; 
 but into heaven itself now to appear in the 
 presence of God for us, - 30 
 
 SERMON XLVI 1 1. 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 Hebrews," ii. 9. 
 
 We see Jesus, icho ivas made a little lower than 
 the angels for the suffering of death, crowned 
 with joy and honour, - - - 38
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMONS XLIX, L. 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 John, iv. 14. 
 
 But the wntpf that I shall give him^ shall be in 
 him a well of watery springing up into everlast- 
 ing life, - - - - 49, 60 
 
 SERMON LI. 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 I Thesialoniars, v. 19. 
 
 Quench not the Spirit, - - - 71 
 
 SERMON LII. 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 Acts, ii 33. 
 
 Tlierefore, bring hi the rio^hf hand of God exalted, 
 and having received of the Feather the promise 
 of the Hohj Ghost, he hath shed forth this, 
 which ye now see and hear, - - 81 
 
 SERMON LIII. 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 Jdde, 3. 
 
 That ye should earnestly contend for the faith, 
 which was once delivered unto the Saints, - 90
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 TAGE 
 
 SERMON LIV. 
 
 ON TRLNITY SUNDAY. 
 
 I John, v. 7. 
 
 lliere are three that hear record in heaven^ the 
 Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost; and 
 these three are one, - - 101 
 
 SERMON LV. 
 
 ON THE FESTIVAL OF ST. MICHAEL AND ALL 
 ANGELS. 
 
 Hebrews, i. 14. 
 
 Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to 
 minister for them who shall be heirs of salva- 
 tion? - - - - 110 
 
 SERMON LVI. 
 
 ON THE FESTIVAL OF ALL SAINTS. 
 
 Revelations, vii. 9. 13 — 18. 
 
 After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, 
 ichich no man could mimher, of all nations, and 
 kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before 
 the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed icith 
 white robes, and palms in their hands. And one 
 of the elders answered, saying unto me, What 
 are these which are arrayed in white robes, and 
 whence mme they? And I said unto him. Sir, 
 thou knowest. And he said to me. These are
 
 CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 tlipy which came out of great tribulation, and 
 have washed their robes, and made them white in 
 the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they 
 before the throne of God, and serve him day and 
 night in his temple ; and He that sitteth on the 
 throne shall dwell among them. They shall 
 hunger no more, nn titer thirst any more; nei- 
 ther shall the sun li^ht on them, nor any heat. 
 For the Lamb which is in the midst of the 
 throne shall feed them, and shall lead ihem unto 
 licing fountains of waters; and God shall wipe 
 away all tears from their eyes, - 122 
 
 SERMON LVII. 9 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 Acts, ix. 19—21. 
 
 Then was Saul certain days with the disciples 
 which were at Damascus. And straightway he 
 preached Christ in the synagogues, that he is the 
 Son of God. But all that heard him were 
 amazed, and said; fs not this he that destroyed 
 them which called on this name ? - 1 32 
 
 SERMON LVIII. 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 St. Matthew, xi. 11. ^ 
 
 Ferily I say unto you, among them that are born 
 of women, there hath not risen a greater than 
 John the Baptist, _ _ . I4f;
 
 Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 rAQE 
 
 SERMONS LIX, LX. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 St. Matthew, xvi. 17. 
 
 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed 
 art thou, Simon Bar-jona; for flesh and blojd 
 hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father 
 ivhich is in heaven, - - 1<35, 164 
 
 SERMON LXI. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 Matthew, ix. 'J. 
 
 And as Jesus passed forth from theiiee, he saiD a 
 man, named Matthnv, sittins^ at the receipt of 
 custom; and he saith unto him, Follow me. 
 And he arose, and followed him, - 173 
 
 SERMON LXI I. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGE- 
 
 LIST. 
 
 St. Jobs, xiii. 28. 
 
 Now there ivas leaning on Jcsus^ bosom, one of his 
 disciples whom Jesus loved, - - 1 ^?
 
 CONTENTS. IX 
 
 SERMONS LXIII, LXIV. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 II rETF.R, ri. 15. 
 
 Balftmn, the son of Bosoi\ vho loved the icages of 
 unrighteousness^ - - 193. 202 
 
 I 
 
 SERMON LXV. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 II Samuel, xvi 15. 
 
 ft 
 
 And Absalom, and all the people the men of Israel, 
 same to Jerusalem, and Aliithophel tvitli him, 209 
 
 SERMON LXVI. 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPL\N EUNUCH. 
 
 Acts, viii. 39. 
 
 He went on his way rejoicing, - - 220 
 
 VOL. II. b
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON LXVII. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 Acts, x. 31. 
 
 Cornelius, thy prajfer is hfurd. and thine alms are 
 had in remembrance in the sisht of God, 228 
 
 SEiniON LXVIII. 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE CONSECRATION OF TRINITY 
 CHURCH, COLUMBIA. 
 
 I KI5GS, viii. (>6. 
 
 On the eighth day, he smi the ptoplc away. And 
 they blessed the kins, and went unto flirir tents 
 joyful and iild.d of heart, fur (dl the i:()<Klness 
 that ti:e Lord had done for Dartd his serrant, 
 and for Israel his people, - - -.'^9 
 
 SERMON LXIX. 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE 1 E \ST OF THE EIMI'HANV 
 1813; BEING THE THIKD ANNIVERS\RV OF THE 
 "PllOTESTVNT EPISCOPAL SOCIETY FOF? THE 
 ADVANCEMENT OF CHRISTIANITY IN bOUTH-CA- 
 ROLINA." 
 
 Matthew, ii. 11. 
 
 And when they had opened their treasures, they 
 presented unto him gifis; gold, and frankin- 
 cense, and myrrh, _ _ _ 252
 
 CONTENTS. XI 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON LXX. 
 
 FOR A COLLECTION IN AID OF THE FUNDS OF THE 
 « PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SOriRTY FOR THfi 
 ADVANCEMENT OF CHKISTIANITY IN SOUTH- 
 CAROLINA." 
 
 Nehemiaii, xiii. 14. 
 
 Rrmemher me, O my Goih conccrnins!; this, and 
 wipe not out mi/ i[oo(l deeds that I have done, 
 for the house of my God, and for the ojjices 
 thereof, . - - - 265 
 
 SERMON LXXI. 
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 Jeremiah, xviii. 7, 8. 
 
 At wh^t instant I shall speak eoncernin^ a nation, 
 and concerning a kini!;dom, to pluck up, and 
 to pull doirn, and to destroy it; if that na- 
 tion, au'ainst whom I have pronounced, turn 
 from their evil, I ivill repent of the evil that I 
 thought to do unto them, - - 279 
 
 SERMON LXXIl. 
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Psalm, c. 4. 
 
 Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into 
 his courts with praise; be thankful unto him, 
 and bless his name, - - ~ 292
 
 XU CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON LXXIII. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Job, vii. 16. 
 
 / would not live alway^ _ . - 303 
 
 SERMON LXXIV. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 Isaiah, hiv. 6. 
 
 We all do fade as a leaf, - - 315 
 
 ser:\ion lxxv. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Isaiah, \\. 6, 7, 8. 
 
 The voice said, Cry. And lie said, IVhat shall I 
 cry? All flesh is grass ; and all (he froodlincss 
 thereof is as the flower of the field. The f^rass 
 ivithereth; the flower fadrth; brrausc the spirit 
 of the Lord hluweth upon it. Surely, the people 
 is grass. The grass wither eth, the flower fad- 
 eth; but the word of our God shall stxind for 
 ever, - - - . _ 32 1
 
 CONTENTS. XIU 
 
 FA<}£ 
 
 SERMON LXXVI. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 
 
 M Sami-el, xii. 22, 23. 
 
 While the child iras pet alive, I fasted a7}d wept; 
 for I said, Who can tell uJiether God will be 
 gracious to me, that the child ma\i live? But 
 now he 'is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can 
 I hrinu; him back again? I shall go to him, 
 but he shall not retain to me, - - 332 
 
 SERMON LXXVII. 
 
 A FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 PsAiM xxiii. 4. 
 
 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the sha- 
 dow of death, I will far no evil; for thou art 
 loith me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me, 340 
 
 ser:mon Lxxviii. 
 
 A FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 Job, sixv. 14. 
 
 Althoush thou sayest thou shall not see him, yet 
 Judgement is before him; therefore trust thou in 
 him, ----- 35'.
 
 Xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON LXXIX. 
 ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE. 
 
 St. John, six. 41. 
 
 There was a garden, and in the garden, a new 
 sepulchre, _ . - - 363 
 
 SERMON LXXX. 
 
 ON THE NECESSITY OF SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN 
 RELIGION. 
 
 John, vi. 67, 68. 
 
 Then said Jesus unto the twelve, JViU ]ic also go 
 
 away? Thai Simon Peter answered him, 
 
 Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the 
 
 words of eternal life, - - - ^1\ 
 
 SERMON LXXXI. 
 
 ON THE CHRISTIAN EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 Exodus, ii. 9. 
 
 Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I 
 ivill give thee thy wages, - - 380 
 
 SERMON LXXXII. 
 
 SOLICITUDE FOR THE PROSPERITY OF RELIGION. 
 
 I Samuel, i%". 13. 
 
 For his heart trembled for the Ark of God, 39V
 
 CONTENTS. XV 
 
 PAGE 
 
 SERMON LXXXIII. 
 
 ON FAMILY WORSHIP. 
 
 Job, i. 5 
 
 A}id it was so, ulipu the days of their feasting 
 were sone ahont, that Job sent and sanctified 
 them, and rose vp early in the morning, and 
 ojf/ red burnt offerings according to the number 
 of them all; for Job said, It may be that my 
 sons have sinned, and cursed God in their 
 hearts. Thus did Job continually , - 403 
 
 SERMON LXXXIV. 
 
 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 St. Ll'ke, X, 42. 
 
 But one thing is needful, - - 41 ] 
 
 SERMON LXXXV. 
 
 THE KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 Like, xiii. 18, 19. 
 
 Then said he, Unto what is the Jdnsdom of God 
 like; and whereunto shall /resemble it? It is 
 like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took 
 and cast into his garden; and ii grew, and 
 waved a great tree; and the fowls of the air 
 lodged in the branches oj^ it, - - 422 
 
 SERMON LXXXVI. 
 
 COME TO JESUS OF NAZARETH AND BE HEALED. 
 
 St. Lcee, wiii. 37. 
 
 And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by, 433
 
 Xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 SERMON LXXXVII. 
 
 THE RICH AND THE GRE\T, BEGGING THE BODY 
 OF JESUS. 
 
 Matthew, xxvij. 58. 
 
 He went to Pilate^ and begged the body of Jesus^ 441 
 SERMON LXXXVIII. 
 
 ON THE COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 
 
 Revelation, iv. 3. 
 
 And there was a rainbow round about the throne^ 
 in sight like unto an emerald, - - 449 
 
 SERMON LXXXIX. 
 
 ON THE DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 pROvr.nBS, vii. 7. 
 
 / discerned among the youths, a young man void 
 of understanding, _ _ _ 457 
 
 SERMON XC. 
 
 ON THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOR IN WINTER. 
 
 St. Mark, xiii. IS. 
 
 Pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, 467
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON XLIV. 
 
 ON EASTER-DAT. 
 
 Acts, iv. 33. 
 
 And with great power gave the Apostles witness of the 
 resmrection of the Lord Jesus. 
 
 HAT! the Apostles of Him, whom, in the week 
 past, we have seen abased, cruciiied, and consigned to 
 the mansions of the dead, do any thing among the 
 Jews "with great power I" Those Apostles, who, but 
 lately, when their Master was arrested, deserted and 
 denied him; who, at his death, trembling with fear and 
 overwhelmed with despair, shrunk away into conceal- 
 ment, say any thing in Judea, concerning the Lord 
 Jesus " with great power!" Surely, something of an 
 extraordinary nature has happened ; something great 
 has occurred, to give them boldness, and success! 
 VOL. ir, 1
 
 2 ON EASTER-DAT. 
 
 Great, indeed ! An event took place, wliich it be- 
 comes us, this morning, with grateful remembrance to 
 review. We will, then, consider the various senses in 
 which it was with " great pow er" testified by the 
 Apostles. 
 
 The enemies of our blessed Lord hnd, as they 
 thought, accomplished their desire of his destruction. 
 They had brought him to the cross. They had pierced 
 his heart with a spear. They had delivered him to be 
 buried. Recollecting his dcchiration, tiint he would 
 rise from the dead the third day, and dtt«'rmined to 
 have his body to produce after that period should 
 have elapsed, they placed upon the stone of the sepul- 
 chre, that seal, whicli it was death to break ; and 
 stationed before it a band of tlie Roman soldiers, who, 
 at the time of the feast, were on duty at Jerusalem. 
 But "why do the jieathen rage, and the people imagine 
 a vain thing r" " lie that sitteth in the heavens shall 
 Jaugh them to scorn; the Lord shall have them in 
 derision." No sooner did the morn of the third day 
 begin to dawn, than the Saviour bade death resign his 
 sceptre. Having been sul)ject to it, awhile, he now 
 brake it; and, leaving the monarch of the tomb stript 
 of his i)owcr, in triinnphant majesty left his domain. 
 Do you ask, w ho rolled away the stone from the sepul- 
 chre? What obstacle was that to Him who burst the 
 strong fetters of death ? Do you ask, where were the 
 guards? Appalled, they fell, or tied. Do you ask, 
 who were the spectators of the sublime scene? God, 
 who watched for this triumph of his Son, and the 
 multitude of the heavenly hosts, who had not ceased, 
 since he was there dei)osited, with wondering expec- 
 tation to observe the sepulelne. Earlier in the morn 
 he rose, than any of his earthly friends; for when 
 they, whom their superior tenderness and constancy, 
 determined to embalm his body, came, early as they 
 came, he was gone. Behold, two of the heavenly 
 hosts sat at the sepulchre; "their countenances like
 
 ON EA9TER-DAY. 3 
 
 lightning, and their raiment white as snow." Unwil- 
 ling to burst unexpectedly upon his disciples in person, 
 and overwhelm them with surprise and fear, and 
 choosing that, as his incarnation, so, also, his rising 
 from the dead, should iiave the attestation of beings 
 from the heavenly world, he had commissioned these 
 ministering spirits, to honour the amiable women who 
 had followed him through his Passion, and who, he 
 knew, would presently come to embalm his remains, 
 with the first tidings of his resurrection. Accordingly, 
 the angels addressed to them the most joyful truth, 
 that ever entered human ears: " Why seek ye the 
 living among the dead P He is not here, for he is 
 risen, as he said. Come see the place, where the 
 Lord lay. And go quickly and tell his disciples, that 
 he is risen from the dead; and behold, he gocth be- 
 fore you into Galilee, there shall ye see him." They 
 went. They saw. They believed. " And with great 
 power gave the Apostles witness of the resurrection of 
 the Lord Jesus." 
 
 This brings us to consider, as was proposed, in 
 what this great power consisted. 
 
 In the first place, their testimony was " with great 
 power" by reason of the great number of witnesses. 
 It was not one, nor two, nor a few individuals, who 
 attested the resurrection. Had the story been an im- 
 posture, a small number only would have combined 
 for its propagation. But here were more than were 
 necessary, for the fabrication of a cheat, and too many 
 to keep it long a secret. " He was seen of Cephas, 
 then of the twelve ; after that, of above five hundred 
 brethren at once." He was seen of the women, and 
 of the two disciples who journeyed to Emmaus; and 
 last of all, he was seen of Paul, with the most extra- 
 ordinary manifestations of his glory and power. 
 These could not have been all deceived. Many of 
 them, at first, were criminally incredulous. They, 
 however, saw him at several times, in different places,
 
 4 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 under various circumstances. They ate, and drank, 
 and conversed with him. They heard liim, and they 
 handled him. They saw in his hands the print of the 
 nails, and laid their fingers upon the wound in his 
 side, and in demonstration that it was He, "the Son of 
 God with power," he commanded for them, on the sea 
 shore, a miraculous draught of fishes. His appear- 
 ance among them was not short, nor obscure; but he 
 continued with them coming in, and going out, for the 
 space of " forty days," arranging with them the con- 
 duct to be pursued, with regard to his Church, the 
 kingdom which he was now to establish in the world. 
 Will it be said, that his appearance should have been 
 tmiversal. Surely, when God has given sufficient evi- 
 dence of a truth, which he requires men to believe, 
 he is not obliged to give them more. With regard to 
 the world in general, if none should believe but those 
 who ssw, Christ must have dwelt always, and every 
 where, on the earth; and there would have been no 
 opportunity for the superior blessedness of their faith, 
 who, though " they have not seen, have," nevertheless, 
 on the word of God, " believed." And with regard to 
 the Jews, as they believed not " Moses and the Pro- 
 phets," we have no ground of assurance that the veil 
 would have been taken from tiieir hearts, though " one 
 rose from the dead." " Unto witnesses chosen before 
 of God," was Jesus showed alive after his resurrection 
 *'by many infallible i)roofs." Their testimony was 
 powerful in that there were an host of them, and thai 
 it was of the fullest and most explicit kind. 
 
 How far they were credible will appear, if we con- 
 sider, in the second place, that the Apostles' evidence 
 was "with great power," by reason of their well 
 known character. They were known to be poor, 
 timid, and friendless; and, therefore, unlikely to de- 
 vise, and unable to execute, a scheme for imposing a 
 falsehood of this nature upon the world. They were 
 persons who aspired to no eminence; who slighted
 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 6 
 
 all honours and emoluments, and who had neither the 
 pride, the ambition, nor the prospects, by which impos- 
 tors are animated. Above ail, they were proverbial 
 for integrity in principle and conduct. Simplicity, 
 honesty, and rectitude, were the characteristics of the 
 followers of the Nazarene. Such qualities, would 
 render any evidence respectable. Such witnesses, 
 could not but speak with " power." Hence it was, 
 that their preaching commanded such attention, and 
 obtained such success. Will it be said that, their 
 simplicity exposed them to delusion. There were 
 among them Peter, sufliciently acute; and Thomas, 
 sufficiently scrupulous. Will it be said that, they had 
 been the followers of Christ, and were interested in 
 the success of this story. There was au»ong them Paul, 
 that Paul, who had been the implacable adversary of 
 Jesus. And, alas! in what way could the story ad- 
 vance the interest of any of them, if Jesus was not 
 risen? It would have been much more natural, as 
 well as reasonable, for them, as, indeed, they did after 
 the crucifixion, to have shrunk from the public view. 
 There was not, in truth, the shadow of any thing in 
 these chosen witnesses, upon which suspicion could 
 fasten his criminating eye. They had every moral 
 quality which could recommend them ; and if the cha- 
 racter of a witness, can give weight to his testimon}', 
 the Apostles of our Lord were, in the highest degree, 
 entitled to be believed. 
 
 Once more. Their evidence had all the "great 
 power," which is ever on the side of truth, in that 
 there was among them consistence, boldness, and cor- 
 respondent behaviour. They were perfectly consist- 
 ent. Numerous as were the testifiers of the Saviour's 
 resurrection, there were no divisions, no contradic- 
 tions, no separate interests; and if there were som« 
 little variations in their narratives, respecting minute 
 matters, these were reconcileable, and tend rather to 
 confirm their accounts, ])y evidencing that, there had
 
 6 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 been na~combination. In the main, as might be ex- 
 pected of men, who were affected w ith a truth so 
 novel, so solemn, and so simple, they were " of one 
 heart and one mind." They were, moreover, un- 
 daunted. Though before, mortified with disappoint- 
 ment, and shaking with terror, tliey shunned even tlie 
 light, they now Avure re-c^j^imatcd. They openly and 
 eagerly proclaimed, that He who had been crucified, 
 was risen from the dead. In the face of the High 
 Priest, and rulers and scribes, they asserted that God 
 had made him whom tlioy had killcil, '' both Lord and 
 Christ." In the temple, and in the synagogues, be- 
 fore kings and governors, they testified the fact. The 
 scourge was lifted; but their lips did not qui\er. 
 Crosses were shown as prepared for them, and they 
 replied, " the Lord is risen." There was also cor- 
 respondent behaviour. They look those steps, to 
 which the doctrine of the resurrection naturally led. 
 They exhibited that life, w hich it necessarily enforced. 
 They were animated with that joy, which it was cal- 
 culated to inspire. They manifested that anxiety and 
 diligence, to maintain and propagate the religion of 
 their Lord, which it could not fail to produce. When 
 conmianded to abandon it, they boldly refused, and 
 refused again; and refused under the most aggravated 
 tortures, and most terrifying threats. If there were 
 no other alternative, but either life, or their testimony 
 to the truth of the resurrection, must be relinquished, 
 they did not hesitate which to resign; but sealed their 
 testimony with their blood ; rejoicing, with a humility 
 and devotion, which consummated the sincerity of 
 their evidence, " that they w ere counted worthy to 
 suffer for his name." It needed not arguments to 
 show that, this was tlie conduct of men, who were 
 fully convinced of what they maintained. They gave 
 w itness of the resurrection w ith that " great power," 
 Avhicli is attendant only on truth. Their behaviour 
 was such, as it necessarily would be, if they wer«
 
 ON EASTER-DAT. 7 
 
 assured that their Master was risen from the dead; 
 and it was such, as nothina but this assurance, could 
 have instigated and sustained. 
 
 Further. The witness which the Apostles gave of 
 the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, was " with great 
 power," in that they brought to their support, the 
 types and s-taLUtcs, which God had before ordained as 
 shadows of this great thing to come, and the words 
 which he had spoken " by the mouth of his holy Pro- 
 phets, who had been since the world began." They 
 opened the Scriptures, the oracles of truth, which 
 God had committed unto the Jews, and alleged from 
 them that, *' Christ must needs have suffered, and" 
 that he should " rise from the dead the third day." 
 They pointed to the annual expiatory sacrifice, and to 
 the High Priest entering with its blood into the Holy 
 of Holies; and thence inferred, that with his own 
 blood Jesus, the High Priest of the human race, hav- 
 ing oftbred himself ui)on the cross, should rise and 
 pass into the heavens, there to " appear in the pre- 
 sence of God for us." They, doubtless, after the ex- 
 ample of their Master, pointed to Jonah, the mysteri- 
 ous type of Him who i)reached repentance, not to 
 Nineveh, but to a guilty world ; and showed that " as 
 Jonas was three days and three nights" locked up *' in 
 the ^^ bale's belly," so was it appointed, that " the Son 
 of Man should be three days and three nights, in the 
 heart of the earth." We hear them saying to their 
 astonished auditors, " We declare unto you good tid- 
 ings, how that the i)romise which was made unto the 
 fathers, God hath fulfilled the same unto us, their 
 children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again;" and 
 appealing in attestation of this declaration, to words 
 which had long been sacred, and to Seers who had 
 never been disputed. Now we behold St. Paul ad- 
 dressing the Church at Antioch, and summoning 
 Isaiah to confirm his assertion, that, in the resurrection 
 of Jesus, were given unto God's people " the sure
 
 8 ON EASTER-DAT. 
 
 mercies of David." And who, at this distance, per- 
 ceives not the strength of the reasoning of the great 
 Apostle of the Gentiles ? For without the resurrec- 
 tion of Jesus, what mercies promised to David, and to 
 his seed for evermore, are sure ? Now, also, we 
 hear St. Peter, bringing David, himself, to confirm 
 the testimony of the resurrection of Clirist: '' Thou 
 wilt not leave my soul in hell," says the Psalmist, 
 " neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One, to see cor- 
 ruption." " Men and brethren," says the Apostle, 
 " let me freely speak unto you of the Patriarch David; 
 that he is both dead and buried, and his sepulchre is 
 with us, unto this day; therefore, being a Pro|)het, 
 and knowing, that God had sworn with an oath to 
 him, that of the fruit of his loins, according to the 
 flesh, he would raise up Christ, to sit on his throne; 
 he seeing this before, sjiake of the resurrection of 
 Christ, that his soul was not left in hell, neiilu'r did 
 his flesh see corruption." And who, at this distance, 
 perceives not the strength of the reasoning of the great 
 Apostle of the Jews? For certainly " David, after he 
 had served his own generation, fell asleep, and saw 
 corruption; but He, whom God raised up again, saw 
 no corruption." Thus did the Apostles bring "the 
 Law and the Prophets," to confirm their witness of 
 the resurrection of the Lord Jesus; showing, in this 
 manner, that cither the Jewish dispensation received 
 its significance and consummation, from the Passion, 
 Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ, or that, as it 
 was about to pass away, it was an absurd, and un- 
 meaning letter. What wonder, then, that so many of 
 the devout Jews, became proselytes to Christianity, 
 and that " a great company of the Priests became obe- 
 dient unto the faith." The argument was of wonder- 
 ful power with those Jews, who, in simplicity and 
 godly sincerity, had cherished the revelations which 
 the Most High had vouchsafed to them ; and it is of 
 astonishing import, of irresistible force to every man^
 
 ON EASTER-DAY, ^ 
 
 who considers, soberly, the wonderful, the supernatu- 
 ral, the connected, the singularly significant nature, of 
 the Jewish economy. 
 
 But, I would observe, further, that the testimony 
 which the witnesses of God unto the people, gave of 
 the resurrection of his Son, was " with great power," 
 in that it left his adversaries destitute of any satisfac- 
 tory, or reasonable replication. Much it behoved the 
 rulers of the Jews, to prove to the people, who were 
 many of them struck with the miracles of Christ, and 
 with the majesty, and awful occurrences of his death, 
 that they had not " crucified the Lord of Glory." In 
 their care to secure the sepulchre, they betrayed their 
 anxiety to do so. And, blessed Lord, could they have 
 produced thy sacred body, after the third day, with 
 what triumph would it have been exhibited ! They 
 would have dragged it into the temple. They would 
 have sent tidings of it to every synagogue. They 
 would have brought it in derision unto Pilate. They 
 would have made it a spectacle, till corruption obliged 
 them to mingle it with the dust. And when they 
 could no longer preserve it, they would have written 
 in the tablets of their nation, the memorial of its fate; 
 and beneath the records of its exhibition, they would, 
 with triumphant sarcasm, have inscribed, what Pilate 
 wrote with iiidilVerence, but i)rophetic import, above 
 thy cross, "This was the King of the Jews!" But, 
 no. There was no such refutation of the resurrection. 
 The body of Jesus, much as it concerned the Jews 
 to exhibit it, and so surely as this might have been 
 done, if they had only slain a deceiver, was never pro- 
 duced. But from the watch was purchased a declara- 
 tion, in which, as in many a false testimoii}', there was, 
 through the providence of God, involved a disclosure 
 of the falsehood of the testifiers, " his disciples came 
 by night, and stole him away while we slept;" a tes- 
 timony so absurd, a defence so feeble, that it needs 
 not any investigation: but it forced from one of th^ 
 
 V(U.. It. 2
 
 10 ON B ASTER-DAY. 
 
 fathers of the Church, an apostrophe so simple, yet s© 
 forcible, concerning this saying that is commonly 
 reported amone; the Jews, that I cannot forbear to in- 
 troduce it: " Ye wicked, corrupt, senseless wretches ; 
 either ye were awake, or asleep. If awake, it was 
 your business to secure the body from being stolen 
 away; if asleej), it was impossible you should either 
 know what was done, or who the persons were, that 
 did it." 
 
 Lastly. The tettimony of the Apostles was " with 
 great power," in that it was accompanied with the 
 confirmation and blessing of God, and produced great, 
 and extensive conviction. They were countenanced 
 from on high. Nature could not have nourished the 
 virtues which they exhibited, and would have sunk 
 under fatigues and sufferings which they endured. 
 They were " enabled to do all things through Christ, 
 who strengthened." To tiio first work of their minis- 
 try, it was necessary that, they should be endued with 
 miraculous powers. Profane, as well as sacred wri- 
 tcrSj declare, that these powers were furnished. " By 
 the hands of the Apostles were many signs and won- 
 ders wrought, and great grace was upon them all." 
 They were anxious, and obligated to communicate the 
 gospel, to the whole human race. Poor, illiterate, 
 friendless, obscure, how could they .accomplish thisr 
 Yet, behold, within a U'w wci'ks, many thousands of 
 the .Jews, among whom were many Priests, and prin- 
 cipal personages, became believers ; and before the 
 Apostles had expired, was dilTused and embraced in 
 most parts of the then known world. The establish- 
 ment, and rapid progress of a religion, whose Author 
 was crucified, and its propagators twelve of the most 
 despised men; of a religion, so opposed to the strong- 
 est propensities of nature, so different from any thing 
 to which man had been accustomed, and so destruc- 
 tive to ancient, venerated, and congenial systems; and 
 this, too., by means so simple, and seemingly inade-
 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 11 
 
 quate to the object, is, of itself, a demonstration of the 
 wisdom and power, with which its witnesses unto the 
 people spake. Shall I be told tiiat. Paganism has 
 more generally prevailed. Paganism has its hold on 
 the ignorance of men, and its advocates in their vices 
 and infirmities. Shall I be told that, Muhammedanism 
 has been spread as successfully. We behold the 
 means of Muhammed's success, in his sensual para- 
 dise, and his sword. But when we look at Chris- 
 tianity; its strongest adversaries were in the human 
 bosom, and it rejected the aid of passion, money, or 
 force. Who, then, that soberly ponders its success, 
 can doubt that it had, in its earliest ages, irresistible 
 evidence; that it was " with great power" the Apos- 
 tles gave witness, of the resurrection of its Author; 
 and that God, doubtless, did bear tliem witness, " con- 
 firming their words, with signs following ?"
 
 SERMON XLV. 
 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 I THESSALONIANi!, iv. 14. 
 
 If we believe that Jesus died and rose ugairiy even so 
 thenii also, ivho sleep in Jesus, uill God bring with 
 him. 
 
 And do wc not believe it? ""Who is this that 
 cometh from" the tomb, " with dyed garments" from 
 the bed of death ? '* This that is glorious in his appa- 
 rel, travelling in the greatness of his strength r" Is it 
 not He, whom we lately attended to the. crucifixion, 
 and left fast bound with the fetters of death ? Is it 
 not the resurrection of Jesus which, this day, fills our 
 bosoms with unusual joy, and does not the declara- 
 tions of the event which wc have heard, call it ui) to 
 our remembrance, free from doubt .^ Yes. If our
 
 ON EASTER-DAY. 13 
 
 service, this day, and the service of the whole Chris- 
 tian Church be HOt all a mockery; if the testimony of 
 witnesses competent in number, and character, to 
 establish a fact, which fact, they attested with their 
 blood, may not be set aside by mere suppositions, and 
 sophisms ; if we have not seen such a success of im- 
 posture, as is contrary to all the past experience of 
 mankind; if all rules of evidence, and all grounds of 
 belief, be not altoii;ether arbitrary, and if the Almighty 
 Governor of the world, has not poured down his 
 blessing upon tiie work of a blasphemous deceiver, 
 Jesus Christ, who died upon the cross, according to 
 the Scriptures rose from the dead. 
 
 In your minds, my brethren, I presume this point is 
 established. You have no need that I go with you to 
 tfie sepulchre, and show that " he is not there, but is 
 risen." You awoke, this morning, rejoicing in the 
 glorious truth. Now, the inference which the Apostle 
 makes, from the resurrection of Christ, and which 
 renders it, to us, the most interesting event in the an- 
 nals of time, is, the certainty of our own resurrection. 
 " If we believe," says he, " that Jesus died and rose 
 again, even so them, also, who sleep in Jesus, will 
 God bring with him." And again, writing to the 
 Corinthians; "if Christ be preached, that he rose 
 from the dead, how say some among you, that there is 
 no resurrection of the dead ^" 
 
 As it is this inference, that gives us such an interest 
 in the event we commemorate, to show you, in the 
 first place, the certainty with which it is drawn; and, 
 in the second place, the inestimable value of it; will 
 be my present employment. 
 
 That our resurrection is the certain consequence of 
 the resurrection of Christ, will be evident, if we first 
 consider it, as an evidence that the Deity accepted his 
 sacrifice of himself, in our behalf. Death, we know, 
 is "the wages of sin." In no other way, can we 
 account for its introduction into the creation of God.
 
 14 OK EASTER-DAT. 
 
 Now, of the rise of sin in our nature, we have an 
 Recount in the sacred history of man's transgression. 
 To atone for this transgression, and take away the 
 doom of perpetual death, to which it had subjected 
 man, was the avowed object, for which the Saviour 
 offered himself upon the cross. If, therefore, the 
 Eternal Father, accepted his proi)itiation for our sins; 
 and what stronger evidence could he give us that lie 
 did, than by raising the crucified victim from the 
 grave, our debt to the law is cancelled. The reason 
 for our subjection to eternal death, is remitted, and it 
 is impossible that we should be holden of it. 
 
 A sense of unworthiness, would naturally excite 
 doubts in any mind, unenlightened by revelation, 
 about the resurrection of men to immortality. We are, 
 indeed, conscious of faculties which qualify us for a 
 longer, and better being, than the |)rcsent, and of an 
 inextinguishable desire to prolong our existence. But, 
 a sense of our sinfulness, and moral frailty, must also 
 be felt, whenever we study ourselves. Whether the 
 Deity, therefore, who is able to people his universe 
 with beings, as pure and exalted as he pleases, would 
 condescend to exert miraculous power, to recover us 
 to everlasting life after our dissolution, might appear 
 problematical. The consciousness of our moral cor- 
 ruption, would, at least, diminish the probability in 
 some minds. We find that, according to the degree 
 of their virtue, was the strength of the heathen's hoi)p, 
 of a future existence. But, in Christ, *' we have an 
 advocate with the Father, and he is the propitiation 
 for our " sins." We have acquired new worth, by 
 our relation to him. He will feel an everlasting re- 
 gard for those, whom he hath redeemed with his 
 blood, and will plead his merits with the Father, for 
 their perpetual preservation. And if his expiation of 
 our iniquities have been accepted, we are, doubtless, 
 begotten by his resurrection to a blessed ho|ie of ever- 
 lasting life. The Father will behold lis \\ jih jircidiar
 
 ON EASTER-DAV. 15 
 
 regard, as the fruit of his Son's sufferings, and, for his 
 sake, allow the efficacy of his merits, to save us from 
 the dominion of the grave. 
 
 Indeed, the Prophet foretold, and He, himself, de- 
 clared that, in " the travail of his soul," in the happi- 
 ness of those whom he. rescued from destruction, he 
 should find the reward of his obedience, and " be sat- 
 isfied." Now, can it be supposed, that in the short- 
 lived tenants of this chequered life, the Saviour " saw 
 his seed r" Has he no other satisfaction, than to have 
 redeemed them to the transient and adulterated happi- 
 ness, of this precarious state ; or will the Almighty 
 Father, suffer him to be defeated in his purpose, or 
 deprived of his reward? No. If he were pleased 
 and satisfied with his propitiation for the sins of the 
 world, for the Redeemer's sake, as well as ours, them 
 who " sleei) in Jesus, will God bring with him." 
 
 Now, that he did accept his sacrifice of himself, his 
 resurrection is the fullest, and most satisfactory evi- 
 dence, which could be given. In raising him from the 
 dead, God set his seal to all that Christ had done. In 
 testimony of his approbation, he gave him this public 
 triumph before angels and men, on his return from the 
 conquest of sin and death. Accordingly, the Apostle 
 argues; "if Christ be not raised, ye are yet in your 
 sins;" implying that, if he were raised, our sins were 
 cancelled, which were the sting, that is, the power of 
 death. 
 
 Again. How certainly the doctrine of our resur- 
 rijction is established, by the resurrection of our Lord, 
 will be evident, if we consider it as the sufficient, and 
 august proof, of the truth of his religion. That miracles, 
 are sr«pendous evidences of the truth of any doctrine, in 
 evidence of which they are really wrought, is incontro- 
 vertible. That to raise himself from the dead, is the 
 greatest miracle Christ could have wrought, or man 
 can conceive, no one will deny. When it is added 
 nhat, this miracle fulfilled prophecies which pointed to
 
 16 ON easter-dat; 
 
 it, in distant, and at difVerent times, it will be con- 
 fessed, that it combines in itself, all the force which 
 any evidence can possibly carry. To this, therefore, 
 Jesus himself appealed, and when a sign was de- 
 manded of him, rested upon it the credibility of his 
 mission. Without this resurrection of our Lord, the 
 support of his doctrines would, I conceive, have been 
 imperfect; but, while this stands, though every other 
 argument should be subverted, the Christian faith 
 would remain unshaken. And, blessed be the wisdom 
 and care of,our God, he hath so fortified this important 
 pillar, that it defies the enemies of the gospel, and, 
 without being marred, or enfeebled, has repelled their 
 most vigorous blows. Lpon this pillar, the religion of 
 the Redeemer stands, the wonder and joy, of all con- 
 siderate beings. For the eternal validity ot" its doc- 
 trines, and promises, this is a satisfactory voucher. 
 Now, the very end of the gospel is, to bring us to 
 everlasting life and glory. No doctrine is more con- 
 spicuous in it than that, of our resurrection to immor- 
 tality. No promise more frequent than that, of eter- 
 nal felicity to the faithful. We hear it from the mouth 
 of Christ himself. His Apostles repeat it. It is 
 declared to be the i)urpose of CJod in the gift of his 
 Son; and the passages are so numerous, and familiar 
 to you, that I shall not attempt to (piote them. This 
 glorious truth, then, as a doctrine of our religion, is 
 confirmed by that event which, of itself, i)roves the 
 religion divine. " If Christ be not risen," says the 
 Apostle, " then is our preaching vain, and your faith 
 is also vain." But by rising, he established his word, 
 and this word is eternal life. 
 
 But I add, once more, that the resurrection of our 
 blessed Lord, confirms our e.\i)ectations of being 
 raised to a future life, by exemplifying the mystery to 
 us. This is what man needs and desires, to i)lace the 
 subject bejond all doubt. He may conjecture, from 
 the imperfection of the present life, and tlie promiscu-
 
 ON EA9TER-DAY. 1^ 
 
 ous fate of the virtuous and the wicked, a future retri- 
 bution. He may gather from the properties of his 
 soul, and forebodings of his conscience, a probability, 
 that he is designed for another state of being. What 
 he wishes, he may incline to believe, and religion may 
 kindly descend to confirm his hopes. But in a thing 
 so dear, he is anxious to have the possibility of the 
 thing exemplified by fact. Till some one exhibits 
 death's sceptre actually broken, the grim monster 
 seems to reign the ujiconquerable monarch of the 
 world. An instance here, would be worth many argu- 
 ments. And such an instance we have, through tho 
 abundant riches of the power and goodness of God. 
 In our own nature, in that body and soul in which he 
 lived, and was very man, Christ returned to life, after 
 death had laid his hand on him, and he had descended 
 into the tomb. In this, the Eternal Father demon- 
 strated his power to relume the sleeping dust, remand 
 into it, the departed spirit, and fit it for an eternal 
 duration. " Christ being raised from the dead, dierh 
 no more; death hath no more dominion over him." 
 In his resurrection, God hath manifested his power, to 
 awake every son of Adam from the sleep of the grave, 
 and the end, for which he hath manifested it, is our 
 assurance that he will do it. 
 
 Such is the evidence, that the certainty of our resur- 
 rection, is the consequence of the event which we, this 
 day, commemorate. It remains an interesting duty, 
 to set before you the inestimable value of this lively 
 hope, to which we are begotten of God, by the resur- 
 rection of his Son. But time will not permit me, now, 
 to enter upon it. 
 
 My Christian friends, go we to the altar of our God, 
 and as the fittest expression of our joy, keep the great 
 eucharistic feast. There, in commemoration of our 
 deliverance from the bondage of death, let us cele- 
 brate the offering of the true Paschal Lamb. " And 
 thus, shall ye eat it;" with " the loins of 5'our minds 
 
 VOL. ir. ^
 
 18 ON EASTER-DAY. 
 
 girded with truth;" the " staff" of faith in your hands; 
 and " your feet shod with the preparation of the gos- 
 pel of peace." Ye shall eat it with solemnity, and 
 holy joy; for "it is the Lord's Passover." With 
 faith and obedience, apply its blood to your spirits, and 
 have in remembrance, your wonderful deliverance 
 from death ; and when the chosen Son of God shall 
 appear in judgement, upon a rebellious and impenitent 
 world, you shall be sav<^d from the sorrows which 
 will come upon the disobedient ; and be taken to that 
 land of perpetual rest and deliglit, which the Father 
 hath given for you, to the '* Captain of your salva- 
 tion," as the reward of his sufferings, victories, and 
 triumphs.
 
 SERMON XLVI. 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 CoLOSSIANS, ii. 10. 
 
 And ye are complete in him. 
 
 At is natural to look back upon the wonderful events, 
 some of them sorrowful, and some of them joyful, 
 which we have lately commemorated. Indeed, the 
 Church does not yet cease from her special joy on 
 account of the resurrection of her Lord; but still 
 dwells upon it with exultance and delight. As we 
 behold our adorable Master " dying for our sins and 
 rising again for our justification," and in these, his 
 acts, are reminded of his character, his instructions 
 and offices, I know not a passage of holy writ, more 
 suitable for our contemplation, than this of St. Paul to 
 the Colossians : " Ye are complete in him."
 
 20 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 Let US, first, consider, to \vhom these words are 
 addressed. Th( y are contained in an epistle to the 
 members of an eminent Church, which was jiathered 
 by Epaphras at Colosse. These " saints and faithful 
 brethren" had embraced, with a lively and steady 
 zeal, the rcli;iion of Christ, and had conformed them- 
 selves, with distinguished exactness, to his institutions 
 and requirements. It appears, that by baptism they 
 had been regularly incorporated into the Church of 
 the Redeemer: for the Apostle observes of them, that 
 they were "buried with hini in baptism, wherein, 
 also, they were risen with him, through the faith of 
 the operation of (lod.'' They were, also, with exem- 
 plary fidelity, lovers and cherisliers of the doctrines, 
 sacraments, and discipline of the Church; for, says 
 the zealous Paul to them, " though I be absent in the 
 flesh, yet am I with you in the s|)irit, joyin-j; and be- 
 holding your order, .md the steadfastness of your faith 
 in Christ." As might be expected of a people, who 
 were thus established in their principles, and regular in 
 their conduct, it appears that these Colossians were 
 renewed in their lives; for the gospel had brought forth 
 its " fruit in them," and, though there was room, as 
 among the best men there ever will be, for Apostolic 
 cautions and exhortations, yet, it is evident from the 
 epistle, that they had abounded in those distinguishing 
 Christian graces, " faith, hope, and charity." To 
 persons of this description, were the words in the text 
 addressed; and, in ihem, without doubt, to the sin- 
 cere disciples of the Redeemer, the true members of 
 his Church, in every age, and every place. To all 
 such, his ambassadors are authorized to say, " Ye are 
 complete in him." 
 
 Let us, in the second place, consider, in what this 
 completeness consists. Were I to go about to set it 
 before you in all its extent, it would rerpiire a volume, 
 rather than a discourse. A volume, did I say ? Alasf 
 and who should write it? For to a conception of the
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 21 
 
 fullness, that is in Christ Jesus, all finite powers are 
 utterly inadequate. It is well styled by an inspired 
 penman, " the unsearchable riches of Christ." All 
 that we can do is, to contemplate it in some of its ob- 
 vious, and most interesting particulars. 
 
 Knowledge is the foundation of all religion, and all 
 excellency. Without it, there can be no elevated cha- 
 racter in man ; no wisdom nor satisfaction in his man- 
 agement of life; no reasonableness in his service to 
 his Creator; no basis to his faith, nor certainty in his 
 hopes; no sunshine of joy upon his soul; no pleasant- 
 ness, nor safety in his path. In this fundamental par- 
 ticular we are " comi)lete" in Christ Jesus; for in 
 him, arc hidden all the treasures of wisdom and know- 
 ledge. In Christ, are wra|)pcd up all the counsels 
 and purposes of God. In him, are placed the foun- 
 tains of all truth. From him, proceed all sure instruc- 
 tions; and there is no rest for the inquiries of the soul, 
 till it is brought humbly to his feet. He is appointed 
 as the sun of the intellectual firmament. When he 
 appears, there is light; we see our path; and order 
 and beauty is discernible in every thing around us. 
 Where He siiines not, all is confusion and darkness. 
 Ah, were we not familiarized to his shining, with what 
 transports of joy, with what exclamations of gratitude, 
 should we hail his beams! 
 
 In this article of knowledge, where else, than un- 
 der the instructions of Christ, shall we find man 
 "complete?" Shall we find him so under the guid- 
 ance of nature? Alas! look at the savage. In many 
 things, how nearly allied to the brute; and, upon the 
 subjects of religion and salvation, how ignorant, even 
 of his ignorance, and of the importance of truth ! Shall 
 we find him " complete" under the light of science and 
 refinement? Look at the philosopher. How rest- 
 less; how perplexed; how dubious! At the end of 
 his labours, and height of his attainments, still asking 
 anxiously, " What is truth ?" The Christian need
 
 22 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 never look back with envy upon the world, as if pure 
 instruction could be found in any of its resources. It 
 is overspread with ignorance. Men, out of the Church 
 of God, have been every where enveloped with dark- 
 ness, and a prey to delusions. The highest point of 
 wisdom attained by the wisest of their number, was 
 expressed in the just and humbling adage, " Tliis only 
 do I know, that I know nothing." On this account it 
 was, that St. Paul was i^nxious to guard the Chris- 
 tians at Colosse, by a sense of their completeness in 
 Christ, against being beguiled with the enticing words, 
 and flattering opinions, of philosophical teachers, by 
 whom they were surrounded. " Beware," says he, 
 "lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain 
 deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments 
 of the world, and not after Christ. For in him dwel- 
 leth all the fulness of the Godliead bodily; and ye arc 
 complete in him." 
 
 In Christ Jesus, resides the fulness of the supreme 
 intelligence. We can have no better, we can need no 
 other instructor. He is the Word and Wisdom of 
 Cod. All the will, and purposes, and counsels of the 
 Almighty, are committed unto him. And the renewed 
 mind, A\hich hath been broni:ht into union with him, 
 and surrendered itself entirely to the guidance of his 
 hand, and instructions of his voice, finds itself trans- 
 lated into regions of pure and divine truth; which 
 present, on all sides, innumerajjle bright, and safe, and 
 delightful paths; and, in every part of which, is seen 
 the glory; is felt the presence, of the invisible Deity. 
 In these regions, the soul of the diligent, can never be 
 destitute of its proper knowledge. What is there, O, 
 Christian! of becoming knowledge, relating to thy 
 being, thy business, or thy destiny, which Christ, thy 
 Instructor, hath not communicated ? What is there, 
 concerning thy God, or the universe, or truth, or holi- 
 ness, of which it is certain that, the knowledge would 
 be beneficial to thee, that thy adorable Master hatlinot
 
 I 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 23 
 
 revealed? What is there, concerningthe ways of life, 
 of peace, and salvation, which it behoves thee to know, 
 that He, wlio is the way, the truth, and the life, 
 hath not explained? And how great is thy felicity, 
 liow great thy security, in quaffing thy knowledge from 
 streams, whose source, is the fount fast by the throne 
 of God ; from streams, from which, if thou drinkest 
 purely, thou canst never imbibe any thing that can 
 savor of error, or prove injurious to thy soul's health; 
 from streams, to the source of which, all higher orders 
 of intelligence repair, for the draughts that inspire 
 them with heavenly wisdom, and which, are perpetu- 
 ally visited and blessed, by the Holy Spirit of God! 
 On the brinks of these streams, who that abides, can 
 long he ignorant wliat is good, or what the Lord his 
 God re(iuircth of him ? These instructions, which 
 are set open to us in Christ Jesus, are full and certain ; 
 full, in that they are adequate to all our necessities ; 
 and certain, in that he is the Wisdom of God. Yea, 
 we may go further and add, that they furnish means, 
 for our i)erpetual increase in knowledge, and advance- 
 ment in goodness. They are unfathomable; they are 
 exhaustless. We may say of the wisdom the}' contain, 
 as an Apostle hath said of the love that hath made 
 »liem accessible to us, it " passetii knowledge." 
 
 But, further; true knowledge will make us ac- 
 quaiiUed with our own sinfulness, and witii the holi- 
 ness of God, and, consequently, with our need of a 
 propitiatory sacrifice, wherewith to appear before our 
 Maker, and the desirableness of a Mediator, to inter- 
 cede w ith him in our behalf. Where has not man 
 indicated his sense of the necessity of such a sacrifice, 
 and sought to avail himself of some such mediation? 
 riiere has been no religion without an altar; and no 
 altar without a Priest. In the usages of mankind in 
 fvery age, we may trace strong evidences of an early 
 )>romuli:ation of thai priiu-iple of the divine economy
 
 24 SUNDAY AFTER EASIER. 
 
 that, "without blood, there is no remission;" and 
 where is the enlightened bosom, in which may not be 
 found feelings, which resort with joy to the thought 
 of an Intercessor; and reasons, which prove it as fit, 
 as it is desirable, that between the Holy God, and his 
 offending children, there should be a mediator. Now, 
 in these most important particulars, we arc "com- 
 plete" in our Redeemer; for he is the all-sufficient 
 sacrifice provided, and accepted by our heavenly Fa- 
 ther, even the Son of his love, "in whom we have 
 redemption through his blood." He is the Mediator 
 whom the Father hath sanctified and sent into the 
 world, and of whose mediation, he hath testified his 
 acceptance, in that he hath raised him from the dead. 
 The blood which llowed from the cross, is of elVicacy 
 before the throne of the Almighty, proportioned to its 
 value, and its value, who shall calculate; what lan- 
 guage shall express! All other sacrific<'s were insig- 
 nificant, but as they had res|)ect unto this. They 
 were ineffectual. They were shadows, of which the 
 substance is Christ. Christians have in him, both a 
 sacrifice and a Priest, of whose jirevailing pow er with 
 the Father, there is infallible assurance, in that they 
 are, at once, the Father's offspring, and the Father's 
 api)ointmcnt. 
 
 And wiiere, out of the Church of the Redeemer, is 
 man "complete" in these respects? Where else, shall 
 we find him with a sacrifice for his sins, on whose effi- 
 cacy he can rely; or with a mediator with his God, in 
 whose success he can be confident? iShall we find 
 him so among the Gentiles? He is surrounded there 
 with a host of mediators; but, behold, " they have 
 eyes, and see not; they have cars, and hear not; 
 neither is there any breath in their mouths." He is 
 offering sacrifice upon a thousand altars; but, lol they 
 are offered to the Being whose they already were; 
 and what efficacy is there in their blood to tuke away 
 sin? Shall we find him " complete" in these respects
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 26 
 
 among the Jews? Their whole system was "the minis- 
 tration of condemnation." Their sacrifices and ordi- 
 nances, were but " shadows of things to come." And 
 he who was " circumcised, became a debtor to the 
 law, to keep the whole law," and by every transgres- 
 sion incurred a curse. It was on this account that, 
 St. Paul was anxious to guard the Colossians, by a 
 sense of their completeness in Christ, not only against 
 being beguiled with the opinions of vain philosophy, 
 but also, against resorting to heathenish superstitions, 
 or subjecting themselves to Jewish ceremonies; by 
 allurements to which, this distinguished Church, and, 
 indeed, almost all the Churches in the first ages, were 
 assailed and endangered ; a circumstance which you 
 must keep in mind, if you would rightly understand 
 the scope and meaning, of many passages in tliis, and 
 most of the epistles, which are in the New Testa- 
 ment. In the cha|)ter from which the text is taken, 
 the Apostle is chiefly anxious to prevent those, to 
 whom he writes, from relying on any thing, as neces- 
 sary to the ground of their justification, "but Jesus 
 Christ, and him crucified." They needed nothing out 
 of him. In him, was :ill sufliciency. " For it pleased 
 the Father, that, in liim, should all fulness dwell; 
 and, having made peace through the blood of his cross, 
 by him to reconcile all things unto himself." Brought 
 by faith unto the Redeemer, and justified freely 
 through his blood, they needed not to burden them- 
 selves with heathenish observances, or Jewish rites. 
 Nothing could add to the sufliciency of Christ's grace, 
 or be a substitute for it, if it were wanting. " Ye are 
 complete in Him, who is the head of all principality 
 and power; in ^^hom, also, ye are circumcised with 
 the circumcision made without hands, in putting off 
 the body of the sins of the flesh, by the circumcision of 
 Christ." 
 
 As the resources of Jews and Greeks, furnish not 
 the means of atonement and peace, how great is the 
 
 VOL. II. \
 
 26 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 Christian's happiness in having received, from his 
 Maker's bounty, the full price of redemption. His 
 " belov ed Son" hath offered " in his own body upon 
 die tree," a suflicient propitiation for the sins of the 
 world; and with the blood of the sacrifice, is passed 
 into the " heavens," there " to apprar" for ever " in 
 th'' presence of God for us." \v holy, and humble 
 men, who are overwhehned with the contemplation of 
 the majesty, and holiness of Jrhovah, behold, between 
 him and you, a mighty Mediator, in whom (iod is 
 reconciled unto you, and, for ^^ hose sake, ye are hon- 
 ourable and precious in his si^ht. \v penitent oflen- 
 ders, who are heavy laden with the consciousness of 
 your sins, behold, in tin; blood of Christ, a fountain 
 set open by the Almighty, in which you may wash and 
 be clean. Washed in this purifying stream, "though 
 your sins be as scarlet, they shall be like wool ; thou{:h 
 they be red like crimson, they shall be u bite as snow." 
 A persecuting Paul, and an inconstant Peter, a sinful 
 Magdalen, and a crucified thief, have found it stifli- 
 cient to take away the stains of their guilt; and when- 
 ever it is resorted to, with penitence and faith, the 
 Everlasting Father hath declared that, it >hall "cleanse 
 from all sin." Faithful members of the Church, who 
 with all your faith and perseverance, are conscious of 
 the smallness of your attainments; and when ye con- 
 template the joys, and honours, and riches of heaven, 
 are ready to ask, with exceeding meekness, shall all 
 this glory be given unto us? Look at your Uedeemer: 
 "Ye are complete in him who is the head." As mem- 
 bers of his body, ye not only have fellowship in his 
 sufi'erings, but, also, participation in his resurrection. 
 He is your life. And, for his sake, ye are dear unto 
 the Father. " When He, who is your life, shall ap- 
 pear," of that glory, with which the head is encom- 
 passed, shall all the members of the body share. Bg 
 not dismayed, then ,' " ye are comi»lete in him."
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. ^7 
 
 This brings us to contemplate our completeness in 
 Christ, as our Head and Kinj;. We have very great 
 need of grace from on hi^h, to establish our faith, 
 comfort our hearts, and protect and advance us in the 
 ways of holiness; for, of ourselves we are feeble, and 
 prone to evil, and beset with innumerable difficulties 
 and dangers. Our adorable Redeemer, hath received 
 of the Father, the promise of the Holy Giiost. In his 
 state of exaltation, lie hath received all necessary and 
 excellent "gifts for men." He seeth our necessities; and 
 the grace which is necessary, shall not, we are assured, 
 be wanting to those, who are united uith him as their 
 Head. For, from " the head, all the body by joints 
 and bands hath nourishment ministert^d, and shall in- 
 crease with the increase of God." There are adver- 
 saries, too, in sin and Satan, with whom the good 
 man must have many bitter conHicts; and a terrible 
 enemy in death, before whom, the heart is apt to be 
 dismayed. It is the Ciuistian's happiness to know, 
 that over all these adversaries, " his Lord haih tri- 
 umphed gloriously." What trophies are these, which 
 we behold of his victory? Approach his cross. Be- 
 hold; having spoiled princi|)alities and powers, he 
 liere triumpheth over them ; and the hand writing that 
 was against us, he hath nailed it to the tree. Hasten 
 from the cross to the sepulchre. See the bars of the 
 tomb severed, and the sceptre of its aw ful monarch, 
 lying broken at its month. Go forward a few weeks, 
 and, lo! tongues, as of fire, resting upon the heads of 
 his disciples, sent down to qualify them for overcoming 
 every foe. Light up the eyes of your faith, and see 
 the gates of heaven opened by him, and Jesus, himself, 
 " sitting on the ri^iht hand of God." What can be 
 wanting to the safety, and victory of those, who are 
 united unto the Being, whom the Father hath, in so 
 many ways acknowledged, and commended unto 
 mankind, as his Son, their Redeemer? His "throne 
 is established for ever." " All iiower is given him, in
 
 28 SUNDAY AFTER FASTER. 
 
 heaven and on earth." The elements of nature ; the 
 invisible " powers of the air;" the hearts and proper- 
 ties of the dwellers upon earth; the events of time; 
 angels and devils; the keys of life, and the gates of 
 hell, are all under his control. They shall all be bent, 
 by his mighty power, to the eventual promotion of the 
 deliverance and glorification of his body, the Church. 
 This, is the end of his administration ; the subjection 
 of his enemies, and the crowning of the faithful. 
 Whatever troubles may overtake the believer; what- 
 ever mysteries may envelope the ways of heaven; 
 whatever clouds and tempests may be let loose upon 
 the world, from amidst the seeming confusion and 
 darkness, he may hear the voice of his king, " It is I, 
 be not afraid." And in the aw ful hour of the final 
 consummation, when God shall wind up this present 
 course of things, and the IJead and king of the 
 Church shall come forth in his glory, as Judge of the 
 world, then, faithful disciples of the Redeemer, shall 
 it be fully demonstrated of you that, " ye are complete 
 in him." 
 
 What now remains, my Christian friends, but that 
 we turn our attention to the great obvious inference, 
 from what has been said, the importance and happi- 
 ness of being one with Christ. Surely, the knowledge, 
 the pardon, the safety, the immortality, which result 
 from this union, are such blessings, as no man, to 
 whom they are proposed, can wisely, can innocently 
 forego. Do you ask, how you may secure them unto 
 yourselves? Christ is " the vine, ye are the branches." 
 As the branch cannot partake of the strength and fat- 
 ness of the root, except it abide in the vine, so neither 
 can ye of this completeness, "except ye abide in him." 
 Do you ask how you are to abide in him? "The 
 Church is his body, the fulness of him that filleth all 
 in all." Repent, and be ye, by baptism, ingrafted into 
 it. Dwell constantly with it. Avail yourselves of the 
 ordinances and means, which he hath provided for it<;
 
 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 29 
 
 instruction and nourishment. Endeavour to adorn it 
 with every good word and w rk, holding the true 
 *' faith, in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in 
 righteousness of life." Then shall ye be found in him. 
 Of his fulness shall ye all receive. And " all things, 
 whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, 
 or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; 
 all shall be yours."
 
 SERMON XL\1I. 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 Hebrews, ix. 24. 
 
 For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with 
 handSf which are the fic^ures of the true; but into 
 heaven itself, noiv to appear in the presence of God 
 for us. 
 
 At this season of the year, we are carried back to 
 the period, when our blessed Lord, having accom- 
 plished all things for which he came to our earth, 
 blessed his infant Church, and departed from them 
 into heaven. It was a period of joy to the angelic 
 hosts, which met him on his way, and welcomed his 
 victorious return to the regions of bliss. It was the 
 jubilee of human nature, which then was freed from 
 the shackles, which confine it to earth, and, passing
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 31 
 
 the portals of the skies, was invested with an eternal 
 residence in the celestial world. There, as our fore- 
 runner, and the " Captain of our salvation," Jesus is 
 seated ; clothed with the highest Priestly, and Princely 
 dignity, by the Father ; making, unceasingly, interces- 
 sion for us; guiding the events of time, by the coun- 
 sels of the Godhnad, to the final and glorious con- 
 summation of all things. 
 
 That you may have a scriptural knowledge of this 
 mystery of our faith, I have chosen for a guide, to our 
 present meditations, these words of the author of the 
 epistle to the Hebrews: " For Christ is not entered 
 into the holy places made with hands, which are the 
 figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to ap- 
 pear in the presence of God for us." 
 
 This passage, and most of the texts of Scripture 
 which allude to the ascension of our Lord, lead us for 
 an explication of it, to the economy of the tabernacle 
 and temple of the Jewish Church. You will remem- 
 ber that, in these, according to the directions of God, 
 there was, besides the vestibule and outer court, an 
 interior place, separated by a vail, and called, " the 
 Holy of Holies." Here, was the Mercy-Seat of the 
 Ark of the Covenant, between the cherubim, over 
 which the Shechinah, or manifestation of the divine 
 presence, usually appeared. Into this sacred recess, 
 none was permitted to enter, but the High Priest. 
 Once, only, in the year, on the great day of expiation, 
 when atonement was made for tiie sins of the whole 
 people, he passed through the vail into this presence 
 chamber of the Deity, to present the blood of the 
 sacrifice before the Mercy- Seat. The ceremony was 
 this. Having, first, purified himself with water and 
 blood, the animal which the Most High had chosen, 
 to be the expiatory and propitiatory sacrifice, for the 
 sins of the whole nation, was offered by him in the outer 
 court, upon the altar of burnt-offerings. He then took of
 
 32 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 the blood of the goat, and entered with it into the Holy 
 of Holies, where, after offering incense, as a token of 
 homage, he sprinkled the blood seven times, before the 
 Mercy-Seat, and made intercession for the people. 
 What, now, did this ceremony signify, which was 
 instituted by God, and the observance of which, was 
 made a condition of th(Mr being brought into the pro- 
 mised land ? It was " a shadow of good things to 
 come ;" whose substance, whose reality was Christ. 
 
 It is remarkable that the Jews, as we learn from 
 Josephus, and the writings of the Hebrew Doctors, 
 considered the outer courts of the tabtMiiaclc, as sym- 
 bolical of the earth, and the Holy of Holies, as an em- 
 blem of heaven. When, therefore, our blessed Lord, at 
 the time appointed by the Father, had, by the sacrifice 
 of himself upon the cross, made a full and acceptable 
 expiation " for the sins of the whole world," it be- 
 came him, as the great High Priest of mankind, or- 
 dained by God, and made "perfect through sufferings,'* 
 to enter into the Holy of Holies, not made with hands, 
 even " into heaven itself, now to appear in the pre- 
 sence of God for us." Into the purest, and most holy 
 place in the universe, " the heaven of heavens," 
 where the hosts of God have tlicir abode, and the 
 Divine Majesty is most specially present, Christ hath 
 ascended in our nature and behalf. There, he pleads 
 before the throne of the Almighty, the merits of the 
 atonement he has made for our race, offering the 
 incense of his perfect obedience, to conciliate for us, 
 the divine favour, and interceding powerfully with his 
 own blood, for all those who, " with hearty re|)ent- 
 ance and true faith," flee for salvation to the foot of 
 his cross. " Christ," says the Apostle, *' being made 
 an High Priest of good things to come, by a greater 
 and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, 
 that is to say, not of this building; neither by the 
 blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he 
 entered in once into the holy place, having obtained
 
 ON THE ASCENSION, 33 
 
 eternal redemption for us." And " he is able to save 
 them to the uttermost, who come unto God by him, 
 seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." 
 
 It appears from many accounts that, while the High 
 Priest was making intercession in the most Holy place, 
 the people were without, confessing their sins, and 
 professing their allegiance to the Almighty. Among 
 the uses which have been assigned to the golden bells, 
 which were ordered to be suspended around the bot- 
 tom of the Pontifical robe, it has been supposed, with 
 much probability, that they were to give notice when 
 the High IViest entered within the vail, on this solemn 
 business, tliat the [)eople might behave with corres- 
 pondent sobriety. lie this as it may, it is certain that, 
 the Jews refrained at this season, from every thing 
 which was incongruous with the service performing 
 for them, and engaged, cliiefly, in acts of devotion and 
 mercy. In like manner, while our Master is in hea- 
 ven, we, in this earth, this outer court of God's uni- 
 versal tabernacle, have our work to do. There are 
 conditions of the covenant, on our part to be fulfilled. 
 Christ hath instructed his Church, to live here, in the 
 exercise of fjiith and repentance, of patience, devotion 
 and charity, while he is interceding for themj with the 
 everlasting Father. And, methinks, there is a propri- 
 ety in this, of which no considerate mind can be insen- 
 sible. For what can be more incongruous, while our 
 Head is pleading with the Almighty the merits of his 
 sufferings, in our behalf, and supplicating for our 
 growth in virtue, and reception to glory, than for us, 
 to be immersed in the pomps and vanities, the passions 
 and vices, of this transitory state; forgetful of our 
 Intercessor, and of the glorious inheritance to which 
 he would exalt us. It is a solecism, which the angels, 
 if they are permitted to be witnesses of our behaviour, 
 must behold with amazement. Surely, there should 
 be something of harmony between our lives, and the 
 services which are performing for us, in the courts of 
 
 VOL. II. 5
 
 34 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 heaven. It is meet and right, that our prayers should 
 be united with the intercessions of our Lord, and our 
 souls and bodies preserved pure, for the reception of 
 that Spirit, uhich his prevailing oflices obtain. " Hav- 
 ing," therefore, says St. Paul, "an High Priest over 
 the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart 
 in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled 
 from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed, with 
 pure water." 
 
 In this region of frailty and temptation, we liave 
 need of much forbearance and compassion, on the part 
 of God. Our infirmiti(5s are great. The shades of 
 our wants and dangers, are too varied for the fniest 
 pencil to represent them. To be suited to our nature, 
 and inspire us with the fulness of hope, our advocate 
 must be one, who can enter into our feelings, and 
 know our distresses; who can plead every thing in 
 mitigation of our sins, which the frailty of our condi- 
 tion can furnish, and supplicate every thing for the 
 promotion of our peace, which the difficulties of our 
 situation can reipiire. iNow, such a Mediator, is 
 Jesus Christ. Though he is in heaven, he has dwelt 
 on earth, in oin- nature, and has all that sympathetic 
 interest in our cares, which the most i)erfectly com- 
 passionate disposition, and the fullest ex|)erience of 
 our griefs, can unitedly excite. " We have not an High 
 Priest," say the oracles of truth, " we have not an 
 High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling 
 of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like 
 as we are, yet without sin." 
 
 It belonged, exclusively, to the Priests, under the 
 Mosaic dispensation, to bless the people in behalf of 
 God. And, doubtless, on the great day of atonement, 
 they received joyfully that blessing, which, we may 
 reasonably suppose, the High Priest brought from the 
 Holy of Holies, after he had made exjiiation for their 
 transgressions. In like manner, oin- High Priest hath 
 received of the Father, all gifts and blessings for his
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 35 
 
 Church. With the voice of his ministers, he dispenses 
 to the penitent, assurances of the pardon of their sins. 
 Visibly, with a rushing mighty sound, at first; and in 
 *' a still small voice" in the bosom since, the Com- 
 forter, his most precious gift, comes down ; to send 
 whom, " it was expedient that he should go away." 
 Mansions in the Father's house are given him, which 
 he is prei aring for the eternal accommodation of his 
 friends. And the blessings which this adorable Priest 
 and King of the redeemed shall bring for them, when 
 he "shall come in like maimer as he went into hea- 
 ven," are represented to our minds, in the holy Scrip- 
 tures, by crowns of glory, palms of victory, and white 
 robes of purity and peace. 
 
 It is impossible for us, in this confined state, to form 
 any adequate conception of tiie blessings, which are in 
 reserve for the faithful. IJut, it was as our represen- 
 tative, that Christ ascended into heaven in our nature, 
 and our eternal life is there secured with him, claimed 
 by him, as the fruit of his sulVerings, at the throne of 
 God. When the daily sacrifice and oblation was to 
 cease, in conse(iuence of the offering of Christ, once 
 for all, the vail of the temple, which separated the 
 Holy of Holies from the outer courts, " was rent in 
 twain from the top to the bottom ;" signifying, that 
 there should be no more occasion for an earthly High 
 Priest, but that the kingdom of heaven was opened to 
 all believers, through the great Intercessor. And 
 when our Lord shall have accomplished his mediato- 
 rial office, the type shall receive its complete fulfil- 
 ment. The vail which now separates heaven, the 
 holy place of the INIost High, from this outer court, 
 our earthly abode, shall,, at the grand consummation, 
 suddenly i)ass away. The ransomed of the Lord shall 
 ascend with him, into the dwelling place of the Al- 
 mighty ; their pardon shall be proclaimed, and their 
 immortality confirmed : and Jesus, iiimself, having
 
 36 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 finished his office, shall become subject to the Father. 
 " that God may be all in all." 
 
 Thus, I have imperfectly illustrated this important 
 mystery of our holy relijjion, the ascension of our 
 blessed Lord; a mystery, resting upon the strong, 
 and stupendous pillars of prophecy and type; estab- 
 lished by the testimony of those, who were eye wit- 
 nesses and martyrs to the reality of the fact ; and 
 placed beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, by his 
 bestowing those supernatural gifts, which he had pro- 
 mised to his Ai)Ostles, as evidences and fruits of his 
 glorification. But why do I speak of the evidences of 
 this part of revelation p You are already persuaded of 
 its truth. Your belief in it, you do every Sabbath de- 
 clare, before the presence of God, in the solemn repe- 
 tition of the articles of your faith. Let me rather 
 entreat you, Christians, this day, to make a solemn 
 pause; and implant in} our hearts a just consideration 
 of the ascension of Christ, and of its important conse- 
 quences. Is it, indeed, true, that having cancelled 
 our sins upon the cross, and broken for us the massy 
 sceptre of death, he hath thrown open the gates of 
 heaven, and entered as our harbinger ? Who, among 
 the heathen, hath named such a tliineP Where, in 
 the gloomy region of scepticism, shall we fmd such 
 joyous prospects ? Let us, then, hold fast the profes- 
 sion of our faith; and love and adore its Author. Is 
 it, indeed, true, that the Son of God is our " advocate 
 with the Father, and the propitiation for our sins?" 
 How ravishing the reflection! What holy confidence 
 should it give us, when we make our prayers! What 
 zeal, and faith, and delight, w hen we olTer unto God 
 the memorial of his death, in the eucharist ! What 
 comfort inefi'able, when our souls are cast down under 
 a sense of our infirmities, and our spirits are disqui- 
 eted within us! Is it, indeed, true, that man, " made 
 lower than the angels," is in the person of Immanuel 
 advanced to the right hand of God, and *' crowned
 
 I 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 37 
 
 with glory and worship?" With what self-respect, 
 should the thousht inspire us! Shall habits of vice 
 debase ; shall carnal affections dishonour ; shall even 
 an impure thouc;ln defile, a nature which has place in 
 the courts of the Most Hi^h, and is so nearly related 
 to the Father, and to his Son Jesus Christ ? Is it, 
 indeed, true, that a time is approaching, when, in the 
 dread majesty of Justice, the ascended Lord shall 
 return, summon from their graves the slumbering dead, 
 of every place and generation; and, while he takes 
 the righteous to himself, and to all the bliss of the 
 Father's house, will leave the ungodly to themselves, 
 and to all the miseries of condemnation ? What heart 
 can lie still at the thought! What mind is not made 
 sober, by the reflection ! Who sees not that, it is his 
 interest, as well as duty, to conform his life to the 
 lovely example of his >aviour, and to set his " affec- 
 tions on things above!" 
 
 My brethren, these are views of the ascension of 
 our Lord, which you must admit as just and reason- 
 able, unless you abandon your faith. Strange, that 
 they have not a more powerful influence on our lives I 
 It is true, when " the spirit is willing, the flesh is often 
 weak." Frailty is our inheritance, and our life is 
 bi'set with temptations and sorrows. But for our 
 encouragement, let us remember that, the Almighty 
 Father is comi)assionate and good. Let our sense of 
 his goodness move our ingenuousness, and rouse us to 
 circumspection. " Laying aside every weight, and 
 the sin which doth most easily beset us, let us run with 
 patience the race that is set before us ; looking unto 
 Jesus, the Author and finisher of our faith; who, for 
 the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, 
 despising the shame, and is now set down at the right 
 hand of the throne of God."
 
 SERIMON XLVIII. 
 
 -«0«6- 
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 Hebrews, ii. 9. 
 
 We see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the 
 angels for the suffering of death, crowned with joii 
 and honour. 
 
 Jl HE last grand display of our Saviour's life, and the 
 illustrious consummation of his ministry, was his 
 ascension into heaven. This mighty event, we have, 
 in the week past, been joyfully commemorating, and 
 the Church yet follows with the eye of faith, her 
 ascending Lord, wrapt in admiration, and exclaiming, 
 " My Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel, and the 
 horsemen thereof." 
 
 It is to this great event, as the fruit of our Saviour's 
 incarnation and crucifixion, that the Apostle alludes in
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 59 
 
 tlie text. The words are peculiarly proper for our 
 present contemplation, as they will naturally lead us 
 to consider, the great honour and advancement of our 
 nature in the glorification of Christ, and the conse- 
 quences and obligations, which we should infer, from 
 this important doctrine of the gospel. Yes, my friends; 
 in the glorification of your Redeemer, man was ex- 
 alted to the highest abode of glory and felicity. In 
 the ascent from the greatly favoured Olivet, there 
 went one, who, wore our nature, and, sin excepted, 
 had led our life. This, Jiis disciples must have appre- 
 hended of tiie person, of whose ascension, they were 
 taken to be witnesses. It was their well known Mas- 
 ter, whom they, not long before, had seen and han- 
 dled, and who was talking with them as a man, when 
 he was parted from tiicni. 
 
 Tliat Jesus Christ, after having expired for our 
 sins upon the cross, and been raised from the dead, did, 
 after passing forty days on earth, in arranging the 
 economy of his Church, ascend into heaven, all Chris- 
 tians believe. But when we give our Amen to this 
 article of our faith, have we definite ideas of the truth, 
 to which we assent? Who is it that, " for the suffer- 
 ing of death, is crowned with glory' and honour?" 
 When he says to his disciples before his departure, " I 
 go to prepare a place for you," who is it that goes? 
 Undoubtedly, the Being in whom existed the wonder- 
 ful union of the human, and the divine natures. It 
 was not solely, the divinity of the Son returning to its 
 pristine abode. That was never " made lower than 
 the angels." That being incapable of passion, never 
 tasted " the sufferings of death." That was not 
 limited by his visible i)resence, but while it dwelt in 
 him upon earth, was, at the same time, " above all, 
 and through all, and in all." 
 
 Of the place and state, to which the Redeemer is 
 exalted, we can form no adequate conceptions. The 
 divine Spirit has used such figures and descriptions, in
 
 40 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 the record of the event, as give the loftiest ideas of 
 glory, bliss, and power, which our minds can embrace. 
 To "the right hand of the throne of God," the jtlace of 
 highest distinction and most honourable pre-eminence ; 
 into heaven, the peculiar abode of the divine presence, 
 and seat of purest and immortal joys; to the Father's 
 house, all whose inhabitants have the Father's appro- 
 priate affection, and in which are the treasures of 
 wisdom, and happiness, open and enjoyed for ever- 
 more; is Immanuel gone. But to follow him, and 
 fully estimate his glorification, we are unable. Our 
 mortal faculties could not sustain its sj)len(lour. A 
 cloud receives him out of our sight. Of this, how- 
 ever, we are assured, and it is the utmost outline of 
 exaltation which we can conceive, that our nature has 
 been taken by him, who graciously espoused it in the 
 day of its poverty and distress, to all " the glory" 
 which the best beloved of the Father had wilii him, 
 " before the foundation of the world." 
 
 Here let us pause, and reflect; what glory to the 
 fallen nature of man, that the Eternal Son should 
 assume it, even to dwell in it on earth, and say of its 
 humble ofi'spring, "my brethren arc these!" How 
 immeasurably great, then, its Jioiiour and advance- 
 ment, when he is exalted in it to the right hand of 
 the Father; " angels, authorities, and powers, being 
 made subject unto him !" ^Vhere are now, the pitiful 
 objections to the humiliation of the manger, and seve- 
 rity of the cross? Where is now, the despised Naza- 
 rene, the scorned teacher of strange doctrines, the 
 unresisting victim of malice and death r The ascen- 
 sion of Christ, vindicates, perfects, crowns the Cliris- 
 tian scheme; it is the top stone which gives firmness 
 and grandeur to the fabric, and displays the proi)or- 
 tionate beauty of all its parts.. The railings at the 
 incarnation, and objections to the crucifixion, vanish : 
 all is consistent, grand, and worthy of the author. 
 God is just, and humanity made happy, while we see
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 41 
 
 Jesus, " who was made a little lower than the angels, 
 for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and 
 honour." 
 
 While we perceive that, it was in our nature the 
 Saviour passed into his glory, our advancement hereby 
 will be more impressive, if we consider that, in enter- 
 ing upon his joy, he " opened the kingdom of heaven 
 to all believers." As the Intercessor of man, to whom 
 the Father hath refused nothing, he went to plead for 
 the justification of his followers to eternal life, that 
 they may be with him, and partake his glory. As the 
 ** Captain of uur Kulvution," hp, in his person, took 
 possession of the country which his triumphant victo- 
 lies had secured, entering, as our forerunner, upon the 
 realms of liiiht. As the head of his Church, it was 
 meet that h<^ should be first exalted to the kingdom, 
 prepared for the children of the Father, from the be- 
 ginning of the world, and, of necessity, as the head and 
 the body arc one, so the life of all his members is hid 
 with him in (iod. '' In my Father's house," says he, 
 " are many mansions." " I go to prepare a place for 
 you; and if I go, and prepare a place for you, I will 
 come again, and receive you to myself; that where I 
 am, there ye may be also." What surer pledge of our 
 inheritance in heaven can we have, than the exaltation 
 of Him, in our nature, to the possession of "all power 
 in heaven, and on earth," who hath sought our happi- 
 ness, by the sacrifice of himself, and declared it to be 
 his will, that they whom the Father hath given him, 
 should be with him where he is. 
 
 But of this interesting and stupendous event of the 
 Ascension, where are the evidences? How shall we 
 believe, that this great thing hath been done for us; 
 this thing so wonderful, and of such amazing conse- 
 quences? Behold, I bring to you the types which, 
 " at sundry times, and in divers manners," God 
 vouchsafed to give, of what he would accomplish, in 
 the great Redeemer. See Enoch translated to heaven 
 
 VOL. ir. 6
 
 42 »^N IHE ASCENSION. 
 
 under the Patriarchal dispensation, and Elijah under 
 the Mosaic; that men misht be assured of another 
 sphere of existence, to which the faithful would be 
 taken, by the great Deliverer. See the leaders of 
 Israel, after the sojourning of the people in the wilder- 
 ness, conducting them through the flood of Jordan to 
 the Canaan of rest and felicity. See the High Priest 
 passing through the vail into the Holy of Holies, after 
 having made the great expiation, with the blood of the 
 sacrifice, there " to appear in the presence of God," 
 in behalf of the people. Look at these types, and 
 others which attend thpm They arc ancient, they 
 are consistent. Ponder, attentively, the testimony 
 they give. You shall find that they owe their exist- 
 ence, their significance, their holiness, to that scheme 
 of grace of which the ascension of the Messiah was 
 an essential part. You shall discover, that they were 
 oracles set in the darker periods of the world, to testify 
 to the sincere inquirer, the truth of this mystery, and 
 establish his faith in its interesting consequences. Yes. 
 These holy types are witnesses of the ascension ; wit- 
 nesses, celebrating it in all ages of the world ; with 
 a, testimony the more impressive, because evidently 
 inspired. 
 
 Again. I bring to you that venerable evidence, 
 which the Almighty hath so often employed in the 
 service of truth, Prophecy. Her, he admitted to a 
 vision of all things concerning his Christ; and of the 
 ascension she has testified, with unejpiivocal fulness, 
 and irresistible force. Hear her, in tlic memorable 
 testimony, given in Babylon: "I saw in the night 
 visions, and behold, one like the Son of Man caiue 
 with the clouds of heaven, and come to the Ancient of 
 Days, and they brought him near before him, and 
 there was given him dominion, and glory, and a king- 
 dom, that all people, nations and languages, shouKl 
 serve him. His dominion, is an everlasting dominion, 
 which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that.
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 43 
 
 which sliall not be destroyed." How explicit, how 
 powerful is this testimony! The person appearing, 
 "one like the Son of Man;" the situation in which 
 he was seen, in *' the clouds of heaven ;" the character 
 of Him to whom he came, "the Ancient of Days;" 
 and the consequence of his ^oing to " the Ancient of 
 Days," the reception of glory, and dominion, and a 
 kiniiidom; this full, and particular testimony, by such 
 a witness as Propliecy, wlien it is applied, carries 
 with it a force, solemn and irresistible. It is not 
 her only declaration. She often has proclaimed the 
 same thing. Go back to a more distant time. Hear her, 
 in the prospect of Messiah's approach to his high abode, 
 calling, in sublime apostrophe: " Lift up your heads, 
 O, ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, 
 and the King of Glory shall come in I" Hear her, in 
 contemplation of iiim, as entered into heaven, offering 
 her fervent adoration : " Thou hast ascended up on 
 high; thou hast led captivity captive, and received 
 gifts for men." What is this, but Prophecy on one 
 side of the event, as history on the other; giving evi- 
 dence to times past, present, and future, of the ascen- 
 sion of men's Saviour into heaven ? 
 
 This brings me to observe that, we have the histori- 
 cal evidence of those, who were eye witnesses of the 
 fact. We have, in several books, written by different 
 persons, not long after the event, the testimonies of 
 those, who had the peculiar felicity of beholding the 
 Lord, when he departed from the world to his Father. 
 These, were not a few men; they were the whole 
 company of the Apostles; these, were men worthy of 
 all credit, for they were eminently honest, consistent, 
 scrupulous, explicit, and unvarying. These, were men 
 who had no power, and could have had no motive to 
 deceive others, by framing a falsehood of so singular 
 a nature. They were simple, unambitious, timid; 
 without the influence of wealth, or learning, or friends. 
 If they believed their Master had failed them at his
 
 44 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 death, they could have no inducement to abide by liis 
 cause; and if they believed that he was, indeed, the 
 Son of the Highest, they could not have supposed, his 
 cause needed the aid of fiction. These were witnesses 
 who, in this matter, could hardly have been deceived 
 themselves. They were on the mount in open day. 
 He had taught them that, he should go into heaven. 
 Could they doubt, when they talked with him, when 
 he laid his Iiands on them, and blessed them; when 
 they stood together, after havinir walkcul to th(^ mount, 
 that it was he, himself, Jesus, wlio had been crucified? 
 Could they have suffered delusion when, while he 
 talked with them, they saw him parted from them, 
 and, with adoring wonder, beheld him ascend through 
 the air till the clouds of heaven " rcTrived him out of 
 their sight?" Could the eyes and the ears of them 
 all, have been deceived, when they saw and heard the 
 angels of Ciod, who were kindly sent to confirm to 
 them the reality of what they beheld ? They were not 
 credulous; it was neither a situation, nor a time, in 
 which they would easily be deceived. The circum- 
 stances of the ascension were such, as free the Re- 
 deemer, from the least suspicion of imposture. These, 
 moreover, were witnesses, who made such sacrifices, 
 as no human beings, with so little inducement, ever 
 made to deceive others ; they made these sacrifices 
 with a calmness, resolution, and perseverance, which 
 no men ever exhibited, who were not fully con\inced 
 they were not di^ceivcd themselves. They encoun- 
 tered scorn, and toil, anil persecution. They relin- 
 quished houses and lands, professions and prospects, 
 kinsfolks and friends. They endured scourgings, and 
 imprisonments, and tortures, and thrcatenings, at the 
 recital of which, our spirits are appalled; yet, they 
 endured them with unshaken fortitude, and often with 
 joy, rather than alter their testimony. They laid down 
 their lives for their testimony; sooner than recall what 
 they had testified ; yea, sooner than remain silent, they
 
 ON THE ASCENSION, ^ij 
 
 submitted to death ; to the most terrible deaths ; with 
 steady, and holy joy, sealing, whenever it was neces- 
 sary, their declaration with their blood. Could the 
 witnesses, and historians of our Lord's ascension, 
 have been deceived ? Could they, at such a price, 
 without any countervailing benefit whatever, have 
 imposed an idle fable on the world ? In men, who 
 had seen the Master that blessed them, taken up into 
 heaven, we might, perhaps, expect a devotion like 
 this. But sure, the Apostles needed, to produce in 
 them such faith and perseverance, and to sustain them 
 under such labours and sufferings, all the conviction of 
 their Lord's power and glory, which an actual vision 
 of his ascension inio heaven could give them. 
 
 Our first emotions, upon contemplating the ascen- 
 sion of our Lord, is amazement. The lustre of his 
 virtue in life, and his sublime equanimity in death, 
 transport us with the perfectability of our nature. We 
 stand by his tomb, and behold him trample upon its 
 grisly prince, with exulting astonishment. But when 
 from Mount Olivet, we see him rise from earth, with 
 the eye of faitii we follow him to the right hand of the 
 Majesty on High, anticipating the period, when all his 
 redeemed shall share his glory ; and the human nature 
 be enveloped in the perfections, and felicities of the 
 divine; the mind faints under the greatness of its ob- 
 ject. Devout amazement seizes every thought; and, 
 like the eleven, we stand gazing up into heaven." 
 
 But, from amazement at this precious part of the 
 Christian dispensation, let us rouse ourselves to consid- 
 er, our obligations to respect a nature, which God has 
 so highly exalted, and destined for such noble felicity. 
 Nothing is more difficult, than totliink rightly of our- 
 selves; to temper the contempt and abhorrence, which 
 the frailty and depravity of our nature should excite, 
 with the self-resi)ect, which beings should preserve, 
 who have fellowship with the Father, and with *' his 
 Son Jesus Christ." Considered without the light, the
 
 46 ON THE ASCENSIO.N. 
 
 doctrines, and the prospects of the gospel, man is an 
 ignoble, unhappy being. Every considerate person, 
 who will view himself faithfully, as he is by nature, 
 shall find abundant reasons to wrap his mind in the 
 garment of humility, and, in meek penitence, bewail 
 his fall. But, considered in the view in which the 
 gospel places him, man rises from his ruins. The 
 Christian is allied to noble beings; his propects are 
 great; and it is scarcely to be decided, whether he is 
 more to be pitied, as he i.s by nature, or reverenced, as 
 he is by grace. This mixture of strange extremes in 
 our condition, is so emphatically expressed by the 
 poetic divine, that I cannot rei)rcss my inclination to 
 adduce his pleasing authority : 
 
 " How poor, bow rich, how abject, how august, 
 Howcomplicale, bow wonderful, is man ! 
 Distinguisli'd link in being's endless chain ! 
 A beam ethereal, suUy'd and absorpt ! 
 Tho'sully'd anddisbonour'd, still divine! 
 Dim miniature of greatness absolute! 
 An heir of glory ' a frail child of dust ! 
 Helpless immortal ! insect infinite 
 A worm ! a god ! 
 
 An angels arm ran't snatch him from the gravf . 
 Legions of angels can't confine him there" 
 
 " Reverence yourself," was a precept of one of the 
 wisest of the heathen sages. How much more suited 
 to the Christian, who perceives his nature recovered 
 in the person of his Lord, and justly expects to be like 
 him, when he shall " see him as he is." Are wc 
 members of a body, of which the Son of God is the 
 head, and shall we not fear to pollute so illustrious a 
 fellowshii)? Have we a representative in the inmost 
 presence chamber of heaven, and shall we sink into a 
 mean commerce with vice, or debase, by folly and
 
 ON THE ASCENSION. 47 
 
 wickedness, the nature he has exalted ? Do we ex- 
 pect to be, hereafter, raised to the right hand of our 
 Master; and shall we defile ourselves with evil; let 
 ourselves down to the follies of his foes, and, with 
 our noble prospects, here wallow in the dust? Forbid 
 it every dignified sentiment in our bosoms! Verily, 
 " every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth him- 
 self, even as he is pure."' 
 
 We may further observe, from the subject we have 
 been contemplating, the wisdom and propriety of rais- 
 ing our affections, and directing our pursuits, to the 
 great realities of the future existence. If He, in 
 whom we believe, is gone into heaven, and those who 
 "' inherit the promises" shall fulluw Iilm, there we 
 must look for our rcNL for ever. Our best interests; 
 our eternal abode; our life, are there. We are here, 
 but passengers of an hour; "strangers and pilgrims" 
 seeking a better country. Of course, to loiter amid 
 the vain deliglits of this transient state, is to forget our 
 business, and our home. 
 
 That " we have here no continuing city," we know. 
 Time is hurrying us unceasingly *to leave this earth; 
 yea, earth itself, is fast hastening to be dissolved, and 
 the element of our abode to pass away. How delight- 
 ful the reflection, that in the ark the Redeemer hath 
 prepared, our nature shall survive the general wreck. 
 Amid the havoc of death, and the solemn awe which 
 I he approach of judgement inspires, how solacing the 
 thought, that the faithful " look for a new heavens and 
 a new earth, wherein dwelletli righteousness." But 
 if we do, indeed, believe, that our hopes, our conver- 
 sation, our treasures, arc in heaven, will not our hearts 
 be there also? Shall we be absorbed in the pleasures, 
 vanities, and vices of this world, which every thing 
 reminds us we must leave, while our Head, our Mas- 
 ter, is calling us to his glory, and we have this momen- 
 tous calling to secure ? Shall we, in tho outset of our 
 iournev. encumber ourselves with burthens, which we
 
 48 ON THE ASCENSION. 
 
 must relinquish, when we have scarcely got under 
 way, while we neglect the habits, the affections, and 
 the graces, for which we shall have need in our eternal 
 and exalted existence? "If ye, then, be risen with 
 Christ, seek those things which are above, where 
 Christ sitteth on the right hand of God." 
 
 Let us, then, be induced, by what has been said, 
 rightly to conceive, and faithfully to improve, that 
 sublime, and most gratifying part of our faith, the 
 ascension of our Master into heaven. Let it establish 
 our confidence in the gospel; rejoice our hopes; and 
 lead us to fit ourselves for an entrance " into the joy of 
 our Lord.'' Though he is taken from our view, he is 
 mindful of our cuuduci, and "shall so come," for the 
 consummation of his work, " as we have seen him go 
 into heaven." While deprived of his presence, are 
 we anxious that his Spirit may rest upon us, to guide 
 and support us on our difficult way? Let us take up 
 the mantle he has left, in his word and his sacraments, 
 and seek, on every emergency, " the Lord God of 
 Elijah." So shall we be of the number, for whom 
 " it was expedient that he should go away." Our 
 journey of life shall be conducted to our satisfaction. 
 And when we are brought, at length, to the waters of 
 that Jordan, which lies between us and the abode of 
 the Prophets, shall be able in the power of the Spirit 
 of our Master, to smite, and pass dry shod, between it«: 
 divided waves.
 
 SERMON XLIX. 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 JoHir, iv, 14. 
 
 But the water, that I shall give him, shall he in him u 
 well of water, springing up into everlasting life. 
 
 J. O obtain the true meaning of our Lord in this 
 animated passage, we will recur to a similar declara- 
 tion, made by him on another occasion. Standing 
 amidst the assembled Jews, on the last day of the fea^ 
 of tabernacles, when water from the pool qf Siloam 
 was poured out, as a drink offering unto the Lord, 
 Jesus cried : " If any man thirst, let him come unto 
 me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scrip- 
 ture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of liv- 
 ing water." Upon the record of this declaration, 
 there follows an inspired exposition : " This spake he 
 voiy. II. 7
 
 50 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 of the Spirit, which they, who believed on him, should 
 receive." The passage is so evidently parallel with 
 my text, that the comment upon one, may be consid- 
 ered as a comment upon the other; and we may learn 
 from it, that by the \\ ater, which Christ mentioned to 
 the woman of Samaria, we are to understand, the 
 grace of the Comforter or Holy Spirit: of which he 
 was the great distributor appointed by the Father, 
 having purchased it by his mediation for the children 
 of men. Accordingly, ve find, that when the woman 
 had expressed her surprise that he, " being a Jew," 
 should ask of her, a Samaritan, a draught of the 
 water which she had come to Jacob's well to draw, he 
 replied, " If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it 
 is that saitii to thee. Give me to drink; thou wouldest 
 have asked of him, and he would have given thee 
 living water." As if he had said, Hadst thou known 
 the riches of that grace, which God will pour out 
 iipon those who seek it; and that 1, who sjicak unto 
 thee, am the Messiah, to whom the distribution of this 
 inestimable gift is committed, thou wouldest have 
 asked, and I would have given thee, truths and influ- 
 ences of the Holy Spirit, which would be in thee, as 
 a well of water, i)erpetually springing up, and refresh- 
 ing thy soul, allaying thy thirst forever, and nourishing 
 thee into eternal life. 
 
 In an age, when finite reason and human philosophy, 
 are made the standards of truth; when many Chris- 
 tians content themselves, with a cursory acquaintance 
 with the precepts of the gospel, and even some of 
 those who are set as angels of the gosjiel pool, " for- 
 sake thetfountains of living water, and hew out to 
 themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold 
 no water," the dispensation of the Spirit, with tlic 
 doctrine of its operation on the heart, and importance 
 to salvation, is not a very popular theme of discourse, 
 nor, it is feared, a subject of very frequent contempla- 
 tion. Yet, it is an essentialj peculiar, and most com-
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 51 
 
 fortable part of the " faith, once delivered to the 
 saints;" and, happily for us, we are annually brought 
 by the excellent economy of our Church, to acknow- 
 ledge, and consider it, in the solemnities of the Whit- 
 suntide feast. To-day, we commemorate the fulfil- 
 ment of the Redeemer's promise, before his Ascension, 
 in the actual, and visible descent of the Comforter, 
 upon his assembled disciples; with which is con- 
 nected, the interesting doctrine of our participation 
 with them, of the heavenly gift, though in a mode that 
 is dissimilar, and lor purposes not i)recisely the same. 
 With your indulgence, my brethren, I will improve the 
 opportunity to bring to your consideration, in the first 
 place, the reality, and necessity of the gift of the 
 Spirit, to all true believers, in every age ; secondly, to 
 call your attention to the in«*stimable value, and im- 
 portant uses of it; and, in the third place, to point 
 you to the channels, through which this gift, this liv- 
 ing water, ordinarily flows. Topics these, which may 
 suggest reflections, that will be pertinent to the joy of 
 this season; and not unprofitable, in the cause of 
 righteousness, if tliou, O, Holy Ghost! vouchsafe to 
 descend, to consecrate our labours, and, by thy quick- 
 ening influences, to fertilize our souls! 
 
 That the extraordinary manifestation of the Holy 
 Spirit, and the supernatural i)owers, which accompa- 
 nied it, are continued in the Christian world, is what 
 no considerate i)erson, at the present day, will ad- 
 vance. For the visible descent, and miraculous ope- 
 rations of the Comforter, on the day of Pentecost, 
 there were reasons which belonged to the time, and 
 the events of it; reasons, peculiar to that age, which 
 no longer exist. And the "sound as of a rushing 
 mighty wind," and the " cloven tongues, like as of 
 fire," have subsided to an invisible influence of the 
 Spirit, upon the hearts and lives of men. So, once, it 
 was expedient that, the Almighty should descend with 
 tremendous majesty of clouds and fire, wind and,
 
 52 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 thunder, and the shaking of Sinai to its base. But, 
 afterwards, when the Prophet waited for his instruc- 
 tions, " the Lord was not in the wind," nor " in the 
 fire," nor "in the earthquake;" but in "a still small 
 voice." 
 
 From the change of mode, which we acknowledge, 
 we arc not to infer the absence of liic substance. That 
 the holy fire, which sat visibly upon the Apostles, is 
 extinguished ; that the Comforter, who descended on 
 the day of Pentecost, has returned to the Father ; that 
 Christians are not all partakers of the heavenly gift, 
 is contrary to reason; to the declarations of Scripture, 
 and to actual observation. From each of these 
 sources may be deduced, the ce/tainiy of his invisible 
 abode with all true believers, and the reality, and ne- 
 cessity, of his operation in iheir hearts. 
 
 IMan is now, what he ever has been, since the fall, 
 a feeble being; ignorant by nature of his God, and 
 duty; living, daily, in trespasses and sins. While he 
 remains unenlightened by tiie comnuinications from on 
 higli, darkness encompasses his mind. \Vhen this 
 darkness is dispersed, and the points of true excel- 
 lence are clearly revealed, to raise himself to them by 
 his own strength, is not in his power. It is with 
 anguisi) and humiliation that, in proof of this, I point 
 you to the heathen sage ; perceiving, admiring, cele- 
 brating the virtues which, in the practice of life he 
 abandons. It is with fear and trembling, that, for the 
 same purpose, I point you to the arduous struggles, 
 and the many defeats, by which the Christian, in 
 endeavouring to maintain his heavenly course, is 
 taught his dependence upon some superior strength. 
 Man's moral powers are so weakened by corruption; 
 his affections are so prone to evil; the holds which 
 temptation has in him, are so numerous and so deep; 
 his spiritual life is so far gone, that, in sacred language, 
 he is represented, with awful emphasis, as dead, while 
 he liveth. And as soon may he raise himself from the
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 53 
 
 iron slumbers of the tomb, to the life and glories of 
 immortality, as rise, by his own strength, from the 
 moral decay and corruption of his nature, to the 
 purity, spirituality and holiness, of the new and eternal 
 life. Do you doubt that this is the decision of reason? 
 Hear her testimony by the mouths of some of her most 
 enlightened votaries. Hear the thoughtful Pythagoras 
 instructing men to i)ray to the gods for assistance, that 
 they may do what becomes them. Hear the accom- 
 plished Cicero, confessing, that no man was ever ex- 
 cellent without sonn^ divine afllation. Here the judi- 
 cious Hierocles teaching the necciisity of the divine 
 blessing upon our endeavours after virtue, to make 
 them successful. Hear the virtuous Seneca, declar- 
 ing, that no man is good, without the help of God. 
 The insufficiency of man, of himself, to recover him- 
 self to a state of holiness, is no new discovery. It 
 is what the (Jentile and Jewish Patriarchs felt. It is 
 what the Christian Apostles bewailed. And it is, 
 what every person may find in his own case, when ho 
 compares his life with the requirements of the divine 
 law, and studies the character and progress of his 
 virtues. But, that we must rise from tiiis state of sin, 
 to righteousness, and be renewed in our minds " after 
 the image of Him who created us," before we can 
 enjoy the presence and kingdom of God, is evident in 
 the nature of the thing, and is the settled principle of 
 every Christian's mind. Reason, therefore, concludes, 
 that unless our heavenly Father has abandoned his 
 children to vice and perdition, he will provide the 
 means of sanctifying their nature, for all those, whom 
 he purposes to bring into his heavenly kingdom. And 
 when we are once informed that, this office belongs to 
 the Holy Ghost, we cannot doubt, that every indivi- 
 dual of our frail race, w ho seeks sincerely the mercies 
 of the Lord Jesus, unto eternal life, is a partaker, in 
 such time and measure, as God sees fit, of the blessed 
 Comforter's protection and aid. If any are good.
 
 54 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 truly and uniformly good, it is through the assistance 
 of the divinity, that stirs within them. 
 
 But from the deductions of reason, we pass to the 
 declarations of Scripture, for additional and surer evi- 
 dences, of this great and most comfortable doctrine. 
 It may be considered as implied in many of the pro- 
 phecies, relating to the Messiah's kingdom. Joel 
 proclaims, that, in the latter days, God would " pour 
 out his Spirit upon all flesh." Isaiah, having the 
 fountain which Jesus would open, in view, breaks 
 forth in a strain of prophetic invitation : " Ho, every 
 one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." David, 
 contemplating at a distance, the pouring out of God's 
 grace upon his people, exclaims: "Thou, O God, 
 sentest a gracious rain upon thine inheritance, and 
 refrcshedst it when it was weary. Thy congregation 
 shall dwell therein ; for thou, O God, hast of thy good'- 
 ncss prepared for the poor." Indeed, as the gifts and 
 graces of the Spirit, are fruits of the Messiah's media- 
 tion and achievements, they must be reckoned among 
 the blessings, with which, in him, " all the families of 
 the earth should be blessed." 
 
 But, in the New Testament, these coruscations of 
 prophecy, are collected and embodied, and shine forth 
 upon us with an enlivening brigiitness. lie who hath 
 the command both of " the upper, iuid the nether 
 springs," while he has taught us the need we have of 
 the Spirit, has graciously given the promise of it to 
 his followers, in every age. In the passage already 
 quoted, as parallel with the text, he declares that, 
 through the bosom of every one that believeth on him, 
 " shall flow rivers of living water." Here is no limit- 
 ation to any age ; no restriction to any place. For all 
 who confess, and follow the Redeemer, the immortal- 
 izing fountain flows. To the reprehensible Samaritan, 
 if she earnestly ask it, shall the " living water" be 
 given; and the devout Ethiopian, '* if he believe with 
 all his heart," shall be refreshed by the stream, and go
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 55 
 
 '• on his way rejoicing." The very promise of the 
 Comforter made by Christ to his disciples, seems 
 hardly capable of fulfilment in the plain acceptation of 
 it, unless those, to whom it was made, be considered 
 as representatives of his whole Church ; for it is pro- 
 mised, as a substitute for his own gracious presence, 
 which his Church must always need; and it is pro- 
 mised to abide with them for ever. Nothing, indeed, 
 can be clearer, fuller, or more impressive, than the 
 declarations of Scripture, concerning the perpetuity 
 and importance of the influences of the Holy Spirit, 
 Without it, we are said to be nothing. All men are 
 representeed as dependent on it, for faith and sanctifi- 
 cation. It is spoken of as the source of the life and 
 growth, of every Christian excellence. It is extolled, 
 as the earnest to the faithful, of everlasting life. 
 " Hereby," says St. John, " know we that we dwell 
 in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his 
 Spirit." " Ye are washed, ye are sanctified, )e are 
 justified," says St. Paul, " by the Spirit of our God." 
 And again; " Know ye not, that ye are the temple of 
 God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you." 
 And again; "We have all been made to drink of the 
 same Spirit." In short, what can more strongly testify 
 the necessity of this grace, than the declaration of our 
 Lord, that, "except a man be born of the Spirit, he 
 cannot see the kingdom of God." And what can 
 more satisfactorily assure us, of the readiness of the 
 Spirit, to come unto all the followers of the Redeemer, 
 than that memorable passage, with which St. Peter 
 closed the first, and best Whitsunday sermon, that has 
 ever been delivered : " The promise is to you and to 
 your children, and to all that are afar off, even to as 
 many, as the Lord our God shall call." 
 
 Of similar import, are the institutions which the 
 Scriptures have hallowed. Ordinances are of little 
 value, but as means of grace. These means, are or- 
 dained to be of perpetual use; and thej are of univer-
 
 56 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 sal extension. Of the typical stream, which God 
 caused to flow miraculously from the rock, which of 
 his people, while journeying through the wilderness of 
 their probation, was not permitted to drink? And 
 unto the ordinances, in which the antetype the spiritual 
 stream now flows, and follows his Church, which of 
 our race, while journeying through this world of their 
 trial, is not bidden to repair, and take of the " waters 
 of life freely ?" The appointment of the means for 
 the use of all, shows, that all need, and that all may 
 obtain, the influences of the Spirit of God. 
 
 Confirming the deductions of reason, and illustrat- 
 ing the declarations of Scripture, there remains the 
 evidence which is drawn from actual observation. 
 And here shall I take you to " the noble army of 
 martyrs;" and show you them stretched upon racks; 
 standing in flames, and walking through furnaces, 
 with a calmness, a patience, a firmness, a joy, which 
 it would seem impossible they should have possessed, 
 if there had not been with them one, like the Spirit of 
 the Son of Man. Shall I go further, and take you to 
 " the goodly fellowship of the Prophets," and show 
 you them, long before the visible descent of the Com- 
 forter, wrapt in the visions of the Almighty; fortified 
 to the noblest undertakings; consoled under the hea- 
 viest trials; raised to the sublimest virtues, and, like 
 the children of Israel in the land of Egypt, while 
 darkness rested upon all around them, having " light 
 in all their dwellings?" No. I will not take you to 
 those ; lest you should say, though the one be prior, 
 and the other subsequent to the visible eftusion, of the 
 Spirit, these were extraordinary endowments, fitted to 
 the necessities of the subjects of them, by the faith- 
 fulness of God. I will take you, then, to the Infidel; 
 and by the absence of grace from his heart, will show 
 you the necessity of it for all men. Whence his unbe- 
 lief? He has not used the means of obtaining the gift 
 of God. He has not prepared liis heart, nor bowed
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 67 
 
 his knee, to pray unto the Most High. He has not 
 heard, meekly, the word of truth, nor studied it with 
 docility and good affection. He has not performed 
 the vows, which were made for him at his baptism; 
 and all the institutions of religion, he hath presump- 
 tuously disregarded. Refusing to use the means, he 
 hath not had the protection, and blessing of grace. In 
 his exposed situation, Unbelief hath seized on him. 
 With infatuating impetuosity, she is hurrying him 
 through her dark, and bewildered paths; and ah! she 
 will dash him into the abyss of perdition 1 Is it that, 
 religion hath not wherewith to commend herself? Oh, 
 no. This wretched being, hath not sought; yea, he 
 hath resisted ; yea, he hath despised, the guidance of 
 the Spirit of God. And lo, grace, which comes to all, 
 comes not to him. AVith such, the Almigluy will 
 " not always strive;" for he is " a jealous God." He 
 hath left him to himself; a monument of our danger 
 and wretchedness, when his Spirit is departed from 
 us. From him, let me take you to the youths, whose 
 spirits, the world hath not yet wholly polluted, and to 
 whom the " truth, as it is in Jesus," is happily preach- 
 ed. In them, the Spirit makes effort. In the cool of 
 the day, when passion is still, his voice may be heard 
 in the hearts of everyone of them. He whispers to 
 their consciences, the imiiortance of salvation; he 
 places before them the loveliness of virtue, and endea- 
 vours to kindle their desires; he checks, gently, the 
 deviations of their minds. Do they disregard him; 
 and prefer the powers of this world, and the pleasures 
 of sin? He leaves them to " their own ways," and 
 they are " filled with their own devices." Do they 
 observe him ? Do the}^ obey his admonitions, and 
 cherish his counsels ? He comes to them more inti- 
 mately; he abides with them more constantly; they 
 advance *' from strength to strength, and unto the 
 God of gods appeareth every one of them in Sion." 
 From these, let me take you to the matured Christian, 
 
 VOL. II. 8
 
 58 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 lor in hiiu it is most manifest, that of the grace of the 
 Spirit all the discijiles of the Redeemer are partakers ; 
 that the Holy Ghost is the Comforter, to every fol- 
 lower of the Lamb. Behold him, beneath the long 
 torture of lingering disease, and painful wreck of 
 nature, calm, gentle, yea, smiling in his anguish. 
 Behold him, bereft of a darling child ; of a bosom 
 friend; of the desire of his eyes, at a stroke; yet, re- 
 pressing every murmur, and anxious, chielly, to im- 
 prove his afllictions to tiie advancement of his virtue, 
 and glory of his God. Is it in nature, to be patient 
 after this manner ? Though philosophy may teach 
 men, with hardy fortitude to bear the stroke, can she 
 teach them, with such meekness to kiss the rod ? 
 Behold him, bringing into subjection every inordinate 
 passion, and decking himself with every godlike vir- 
 tue, till the bosom of lust, auger, envy, pride and 
 malice, is converted to a scene of purity and benevo- 
 lence. See him, raised to spiritual communion with 
 his Maker, till his heart is lilled with a seraplfs love, 
 and his countenance, like Moses', shines w ith the re- 
 flection of the glory he has contemplated. Approach 
 liini in his final hour, and behold him, meeting death 
 with such a holy and Invnenly composure, as almost 
 exhibits the saint '" made perfect," on this side hea- 
 ven; and compels us to admire, where we went to 
 mourn. Is it in our feeble nature, to rise to such 
 majesty r Though reason may enable us, to submii 
 quietly to death, can she teach us, to rejoice in it, to 
 triumph over it with joy ? Though nature n)ay fill u> 
 with fear of God, and a^^ ful revert.'uce; can she shed 
 abroad such love of him in the heart.'' Though philo- 
 sophy may teach us, to be brave, disinterested, ami 
 generous, can she teach us, to be humble? Can she 
 enable us to be pure? No. " In us, that is, in our 
 flesh, dwelleth no good thing." The Christian, finds 
 i|i himself, a new and wonderful creation. He is con- 
 scious, it rs something which he did not, by his ow n
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 59 
 
 power ajone, produce. There is divinity in it. In 
 the calm hour of contemplation, he surveys the oTpera- 
 tion in his mind ; and, wrapping himself in his mantle, 
 like Elijah listening to the " still small voice," per- 
 ceives that it is the Spirit of God. 
 
 Our time would fail us, for the duties which yet 
 remain to be performed upon this holy festival, if we 
 were now to pursue this subject further; but, by 
 divine permission, it shall be concluded in the After- 
 noon.
 
 SERMON L. 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 JoHH, iv. 14. 
 
 But the water that I shall give him, shall be in him a 
 well of water, springing vp into everlasting life. 
 
 AVING seen, in our observations on this text, this 
 morning, the reality and necessity of the gift of the 
 Spirit, to all true believers, of every age, let us con- 
 sider, its inestimable value, and importance. Given 
 to enlighten, to purify, and to comfort us, it is satisfac- 
 tory, and it is perennial. 
 
 We are formed with desires, and fitted for attain- 
 ments, which nothing here can satisfy, or complete. 
 Our minds are framed for knowledge. We need it; 
 and have a natural bent to seek it. But, of the sub- 
 jects upon which we fix our most inquisitive attention.
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 61 
 
 and are most concerned to investigate, nature leaves 
 us deplorably ignorant. Of ourselves, our duty, our 
 hopes, and our destination, unaided reason can give us 
 little information that will not distress us. It tells us, 
 we are mortal, though capable of perpetual improve- 
 ment; but it discovers nothing certain beyond the 
 grave. It suggests that we are moral ; but can neither 
 define right, nor promise aid or reward to virtue. It 
 teaches us that, we are creatures and dependents ; but 
 it brings us not to our Maker ; it leaves us less ac- 
 quainted with him, than with ourselves. We are in 
 a region of obscurity. All is enigmatical in ourselves. 
 All is perplexing in the scenes and events around us. 
 We go to the streamlet of this belief to-day, and of 
 that system to-morrow, and return again to the chang- 
 ing rivulets of our own imaginations. But none of 
 them satisfy. We drink of their waters, and thirst 
 again. It is not, till the Spirit of tiie gospel enlightens 
 our minds; it is not till the Comforter has guided us 
 into truth, that we find rest from our wanderings and 
 are satisfied. Established by the Holy Ghost in the 
 faith of the gospel, and embued, through his power, 
 with its heavenly principles, the Christian has in him, 
 a perpetual spring of peace and joy. The knowledge 
 drawn from the founts, to which the Spirit conducts 
 him, answers all his necessities. He drinks of this 
 water, and thirsts no more. The views of God, of 
 life, of salvation, of righteousness, and of heaven, 
 which this Instructor of the ignorant sets before him, 
 and enables his understanding to apprehend, become 
 in him as " a well of water, springing up into ever- 
 lasting life." 
 
 Again. Our desire of happiness, is even stronger 
 than our desire of knowledge. But how vain is the 
 chase, upon which our passions and the world put us, 
 for the gratification of this desire. Alienated from 
 the love of God, and having his moral faculties im- 
 paired, man has lost by the fall, both the knowledge
 
 62 ON WHITSUNDAr. 
 
 and relish of his chief good. He roves awhile, in all 
 the paths of earthly pursuit, seeking, in each, the sat- 
 isfaction he has not found in others, and murnuiring, 
 successively, at the barrenness of all. The reason is, 
 the soul cannot be satisfied with the pleasures and 
 attainments of this sublunary world. They are car- 
 nal. They mock its expectations. They are uncer- 
 tain and transient, subjecting it to perpetual disap- 
 pointments. They cannot satisfy us. Ho that drink- 
 eth of them, thirsts again; and tlioiigh he be admitted 
 to them all, and take of each most copious drauglits, 
 yet, still he thirsts. There is a void which is not 
 filled. There is a feverish anxiety, which is not 
 removed. There is a weariness under which he yet 
 wants refreshment. It is not till the heart has found 
 its Saviour, and the Comforter whom he sends has 
 taken possession of it, that man knows the source of 
 true happiness, and is able to enjoy it. 1 see him, in 
 his eager pursuit of gratification, njceting, in many ;» 
 path, with fruit whidi is pleasant to the eye, and seem- 
 ingly good for food, yea, and desirable to make one 
 wise. Passion urges him to take and eat. Yet, if he 
 do so, death is the consequence. What is to enable 
 him to repress his inclinations, and refrain from indul- 
 gence, but the restraining grace of the Spirit of holi- 
 ness? 1 sec him, amidst tfic splcndotns which have 
 crowned his worldly projects, and the joys which have 
 been opened to him by his success, conscious of sinful- 
 ness, and accountability; and, sighing in the hour of 
 sober reflection, "O, wretched man that I am! who 
 shall deliver me from tije body of this death r' Where 
 shall he find happiness, but imder the influences of that 
 Comfortej-, which says to llie trembling olTender, "thy 
 sins are forgiven thee;" and inio the chambers of the 
 bosom, where were gathered the darkness and terrors 
 of despondence, pours the beams of eternal hope? I 
 see him, bending under afllicf ion's stroke. Misfortune 
 has snatched from him, the prosperities of his lilc: oi..
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 63 
 
 ^eath has bereaved him of the kindred being; the be~ 
 4oved friend, who was dearer to him than all life's 
 prosperities. Philosophy comes to him. She tells 
 him, his fate is irreversible, and it is folly to repine. 
 Ah, this only aggravates his woe. Reason discourses 
 with him, of the alleviations of his trouble ; and of the 
 duties and joys which remain. It is the voice of a 
 charmer, to which the ear of sorrow is deaf. Thou, 
 only, O, Holy Ghost, art the Comforter who canst 
 bind uj) the lireach in his happiness, and heal the an- 
 guish of his wound. Thou, diffusest thy soothing 
 influences through his bosom, and its perturbations are 
 still. Thou, conductest him to tiie fountains of con- 
 solation, which God has blessed. He drinks of the 
 waters, and his si)irits are refreshed. Thou, biddest 
 him look up, and showest him a clear, and peaceful, 
 and unvarying sky, above the clouds and blackness, 
 which are rolling away. He beholds; and wipes 
 away his tears, and says, ' Blessed Spirit, abide with 
 nie for ever.' I see him, on the brink of the grave; 
 sustaining the conflicts of his final hour. His body is 
 agonized with the torture of disease; his faith and 
 patience are assailed by the enemy ; the angel of death 
 is approaching with his dismaying step, and appalling 
 aspect. It is an awful hour. What can sustain him, 
 but the everlasting arm ? Who can preserve his soul 
 in composure, and light up in it, when it is taking its 
 flight, the smiles of peace, but tire Spirit who hath 
 said, " When tiiou passcst through the waters, I will 
 be with thee, and ili rough the rivers they shall not 
 overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, 
 thou shalt not be l)urncd, neither shall the flames kin- 
 .dle upon thee." As a Comforter, to whom man may 
 go, for strength amidst dangers, encouragement amidst 
 difficulties, freedom from terrors, and support under 
 adversities, there is none worthy of his confidence but 
 the Holy Ghost. The pardon, salvation, and immor- 
 fnlitv. o\' which he ns^urr«; us. and to a participation of
 
 64 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 which we are sealed by him, are the well-springs of all 
 durable and satisfactory joy. Without these, we shall 
 in our pursuit of happiness, roam wildly, and perpetu- 
 ally thirst. Until the peace of God is shed abroad in 
 the heart, we may drink of all the streamlets of plea- 
 sure which are accessible to us, but we shall thirst 
 again. The soul must find its rest from its anxieties 
 and fears, before we can be satisfied. This rest it 
 finds, when the Comforter dwelleth in it; for his gra- 
 cious influences are the sure antidotes to fear, and dis- 
 satisfaction ; and the light of his countenance, is the 
 source of peace. With thee is the well of life, and 
 in thy light shall we see light. 
 
 This brings me to observe, further, in illustration of 
 the inestimable value, and importance of the gift of 
 the Spirit, that it is his office, to sanctify us wholly, in 
 spirit, soul, and body. Descending on us in baptism, 
 he consecrates us unto God ; and, if he be not resisted 
 and grieved, becomes in us, the living principle of 
 goodness and truth, and qualifies us for God's hea- 
 venly kingdom. Man is apprehensive of his account- 
 ability. When the paths of virtue are placed before 
 him, he sees their excellence, and conscience whispers 
 that, if he would please his Maker, he must walk 
 therein. But, from each of these paths, he has wan- 
 dered ; in all of them, he has fallen. There is a fee- 
 bleness of his will, an insubordination of his passions, 
 a prostitution and confusion of his powers; and, conse- 
 quently, an impurity of his nature, which unfits him, 
 for the holy abode and presence of his Maker. It is 
 the office of the Spirit, to move upon this chaos of his 
 condition; to reduce the confusion to regularity; to 
 dissipate the impurity, and sublimate the afiections; 
 and into the dark mass, that is " without form, and 
 void," to introduce order, and beauty, and meekness, 
 for the divine approbation. Hence, " the wasting of 
 regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost," are 
 connected rs contemporaneous., and co-operative
 
 ON WHITSUNt)AY. 65 
 
 means of our salvation. Hence, the earnestness with 
 which we are exhorted, to seek and cherish the Spirit, 
 by the tenor of many portions of the Old, and the ex- 
 plicit instructions of the New Testament. It is 
 through this Spirit, alone, that we are enabled to 
 recover ourselves to a state of faith, and obedience, 
 and to become renewed in our minds " after the image 
 of Him who created us." He sets apart the faithful 
 to the service of the Most High, and renders them 
 meet for his use and favor. Without his aid, they can 
 attain to no excellency; and without the shadow of 
 his wing, can be in no safet3\ By him, they are 
 *' sealed unto the day of redemption." And in that 
 solemn day of the consummation, to which we are all 
 rapidly hastening, none will be partakers of " the joy of 
 the Lord," who have not, in the principles of their 
 minds, and conduct of their lives, the impression of 
 This sacred seal. But, in behalf of all those, who 
 Jiave sure evidence tliat they bear it, the Apostle i)ro- 
 claims: " We have not received the spirit of bondage 
 again to fear; but we have received the Spirit of 
 adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." 
 
 Now, it is to be added, that in all his beneficial 
 influences, the Spirit is perennial. His truth, instruc- 
 tions, and promises, and sanctifying graces, are indis- 
 soluble, and eternal. All the other streams to which 
 man recurs for knowledge, and for happiness, are 
 transitory. They are for ever changing. When the 
 wind bloweth, they are agitated. When the earth is 
 shaken ; they are turned into other channels. When 
 the rains are withheld, they are dried up. But the 
 river of God, is full of water. It never faileth. Its 
 source, is as independent as the existence, as eternal 
 as the duration, and as exhaustless as the perfections 
 of God. It is the same upon the mountain, and in the 
 valley ; it loses not its efficacy in the tempest or the 
 calm. If, at any time, we suffer an interruption of 
 its refreshing influences, the inconstancy is in us, not 
 
 vol.. IF. 9
 
 66 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 in the waters, which, for ever, flow on in their course. 
 Like their humble type, they follow the people of God, 
 in all the windings of their journey, and variations of 
 their state, until they are brought to the promised 
 land. Other things fail. Time, and misfortune, and 
 death, have an evil action, upon all the sources of 
 man's temporal expectations and joys. But the water, 
 which, through the Redeemer, is given unto him, will 
 " be in him a well of water, springing up into ever- 
 lasting life." 
 
 I have now endeavoured to set before you, some 
 evidences of the reality and necessity of the gift of 
 the Spirit to believers, in every age; and some consi- 
 derations which may illustrate its inestimable value 
 and importance. If I have been successful, you will, 
 with the woman of Samaria, be ready to say to the 
 Redeemer, " Give me this water, that I thirst not," 
 and will yet indulge me with your patience, while I 
 point out the channels, through which it ordinarily 
 flows. 1 say, the ordinary channels; for that the 
 Deity is not limited by his own appointments, but 
 may, and sometimes does, accomplish his purposes 
 towards men, in an extraordinary manner, it would be 
 presumptuous to deny. But it is in the channels, 
 through which he hath ordained his Spiritual blessings 
 to flow, that we are to seek them ; and those channels 
 are his word, and the ordinances, and prayer. 
 
 " Faith," the first principle of tlie new life, " coni- 
 eth," saith the Apostle, " by hearing; and hearing, by 
 the word of God." It is in the Scriptures, that the 
 truths we are to receive ; the motives by which we arc 
 to be influenced; the graces we are to cultivate; the 
 hopes we are to cherish, and the purity and happiness 
 after which we are to aspire, are collected, described 
 and deposited, by the Holy Spirit. In them, the doc- 
 trines and promises, the instructions and consolations, 
 which came down from heaven, are placed by him, as 
 it were, in a reservoir, that in, and by them, he mighi
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 6'7 
 
 the more consistently with the laws of Our nature, 
 carry on his great work of enlightening, purifying, 
 and comforting the human race. Here the Apostle 
 speaks of some of his converts, as begotten by the 
 word; and Jesus, in a prayer for his followers, said, 
 " Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth." 
 To the word of God, therefore, as it is found in the 
 writings which he hath inspired, and preached by 
 those, to whom the ministration of it is committed, 
 we should give the most earnest heed, and diligent 
 attention. "Blessed is the man" whose "delight is 
 in the law of the Lord," and who hath in it his medi- 
 tation "day and night;" for "he shall be like a tree 
 planted by the water-side, which shall bring forth his 
 fruit in due season." 
 
 Having acquired faith, and knowledge, from the 
 revelations of irurli, Bai)tlsn> is the appointed laver of 
 regonerntinn, in which we are washed from the stain 
 of sin, and begotten anew in Christ, unto the inherit- 
 ance of the Holy Spirit. In this ordinance, the Com- 
 forter is niade our own; and were it not for the inor- 
 dinateness of our i)assions, and the pcrverseness of our 
 wills, he would abide, constantly, with all those, 
 whose interest in his graces, has, in this sacrament, 
 been sealed to them, on the behalf of God. They 
 are, in this ordinance, made the children of God by 
 "adoption;" " and because they are sons, Godsends 
 forth the Spirit of his Son into their hearts, wherebr 
 they cry, Abba, Father." " Repent, and be bai)tised," 
 says St. Peter, " and ye shall receive the gift of the 
 Holy Ghost." In Confirmation, the title, which, be- 
 fore, was in the hands of guardians, is put into our 
 own hands, and we enter actively upon the enjoyment 
 of the inheritance. 
 
 Having been thus conceived unto a new life, by the 
 word of God, and " born again of water, and ilie 
 Spirit," we need sustenance to nourish and comfort us, 
 unto eternal life. This spiritual refreshment, the
 
 68^ ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 faithful receive in the sacrament of the Lord's Supiier, 
 At that table, the Spirit waits to distribute his refresh- 
 ing and enlivening graces. In that ordinance, we 
 receive the pardon; we recognize the truths; we en- 
 joy, in figure, the promises, by which the Comforter 
 enlightens and strengthens, consoles and sanctifies us. 
 In, and by, the precious streams, which flow for us 
 around that altar, he enters the hearts of the redeemed, 
 and becomes in them a " well of water springing up 
 unto everlasting life." 
 
 There is not time, that we should tarry on the sides 
 of these channels of the Spirit, to mark their depth, 
 their course, their accessibleness and their happy adap- 
 tation to our nature, in its present state. Suffice it to 
 observe, that they are pointed out in Scripture as, the 
 fountains to which we are to have recourse, for the 
 waters which Christ has to give, and, as such, have 
 been acknowledged, guarded, and kept open by the 
 Church, from her earliest existence. 
 
 I add, that Prayer is another great, and appointed 
 mean of bringing down u[)on us, the blessings of the 
 Holy Spirit. In the context, it is intimated that, we 
 must ask, if we would receive the water which the 
 Redeemer gives. In many other places of Scripture, 
 this is most explicitly declared. " Ask and ye shall 
 receive, that your joy may be full." *' If ye, being 
 evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, 
 how much more shall 3'our heavenly Father, give the 
 Holy Spirit to them, that ask it." Indeed, if it be 
 inquired why, with such great and glorious resources 
 in their power, men generally fall so far short of the 
 perfection of righteousness and peace, I fear, the cause 
 of it will be found to be, either that they do not recur 
 to the channels of grace, which have been mentioned, 
 or, that they recur to them without frequent, earnest, 
 importunate praj'cr, for the blessing of God. 
 
 We have now finished our remarks upon this im- 
 portant subject. Upon a review of what has been
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 69 
 
 said, how interesting, how solemn, how nioineiitous 
 the inquiry, have we received the Holy Ghost? This, 
 you will answer, not by adverting to occasional trans- 
 ports of devotion, fervors of enthusiasm, or supposed 
 illapses of the Spirit, which, generally, proceed from 
 heated imaginations, and unenlightened zeal, but by 
 looking in yourselves for those " fruits of the Spirit," 
 by which his presence can be certainly known. These, 
 are said in the gospel to be, " love, joy, peace, long- 
 suffering, getleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tem- 
 perance," and such like. 
 
 By the absence of these fruits, are we obliged to 
 apprehend that, in our bosoms, the Comforter has not 
 his abode. It is an awful apprehension. Let us ask 
 ourselves, whether we have sought him in the ways, 
 in which he is to be found ? Do we study with meek- 
 ness, and receive with affection, the word of God? 
 Have we performed, as well as we have been able, 
 our baptismal vows? Are we constant guests at the 
 table of the Lord, whenever it is spread ? And do we 
 humbly, and often, " bow our knees to" God and " the 
 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," " that he would 
 grant us, according to the riches of his glory, to be 
 strengthened with might by his Spirit, in the inner 
 man;" that we may " know the love of Christ, which 
 passeth knowledge, and be filled with all the fulness 
 of God." If we have refused to avail ourselves of the 
 means which he hath so graciously provided, for ob- 
 taining that, which is of such inestimable value, can 
 we wonder that, the blessing is withheld; perhaps, 
 after having been some time enjoyed by us, is taken 
 away. 
 
 Do we find in our hearts and lives, the " fruits of 
 the Spirit? Let us rejoice with humble joy. Let us 
 give all diligence to keep the inestimable gift. Chris- 
 tians; you shall be encompassed with temptations 
 while you continue in the flesh. Cherish the graces of 
 the Holy Spirit that when you are week, through the
 
 70 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 frailty of your nature, you may in his power be strong. 
 Christians ; you will, in all probability, be overtaken 
 by affliction, while you are journeying to the place of 
 your r^st. Cherish the presence of the Holy Com- 
 forter,^ that, when under the heavy strokes of her 
 chastening hand, you are ready to faint, you may, be- 
 side the waters to which he will lead you, find refresh- 
 ment and peace. Christians; the hour is coming, 
 when you shall be compelled to enter the " valley of 
 the shadow of death." Cherish the friendship of the 
 Spirit of God, the only friend who can go with you 
 into that valley, and be of any use to you there. Che- 
 rish his friendship, that you may be raised above the 
 fears and sufferings of that tremendous vale, by his 
 consoling testimony, witnessing, with your spirits, that 
 you arc the children of God.
 
 SERMON LI. 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 I TffESSALONIARS, V. 19. 
 
 Quench not the Spirit. 
 
 Y the event which the Church this day commemo- 
 rates, our attention is turned to that glorious mystery 
 of the Christian economy, the descent of the Spirit of 
 God, to dwell in men. The visible manifestation of 
 him, on the day of Pentecost, was the commencement 
 of his perpetual abode with the faithful. It was the 
 dispensing of the excellent gift of which every sincere 
 disciple of the Redeemer, is a partaker; for though 
 " the sound of a rushing mighty wind," be no more 
 heard, nor the " cloven tongues like as of fire," seen, 
 yet, is the Holy Ghost in the heart of every Christian 
 in a " still small voice," asserting hrs presence, and
 
 72 ON WHITS nNDAY. 
 
 waiting to sanctify them wholly, if they will co-ope- 
 rate with his sacred influence. " I will pray the 
 Father," says Christ to his infant Church, ''and he 
 will give you another Comforter, who shall abide with 
 you for ever." " The promise," says St Peter, " is 
 to all that are afar off, even to as many as the Lord 
 shall call." " Because ye are sons," says St. Paul, 
 " he hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your 
 hearts." And in allusion to the appearance, with 
 which the Comforter came upon the Apostles, he ex- 
 horts the Thessalonians in the text, " Quench not the 
 Spirit." From which passages, and many others of a 
 similar sense, as well as from the nature of the gospel 
 scheme, and the observations of those who have 
 watched the course of the Christian life, it is abund- 
 antly evident, that every believer has an interest in 
 that precious gift, which, on the day of Pentecost, 
 was poured out upon the Church, so far as it was a 
 source of light, and purity, and comfort, to those, who 
 received it. " The manifestation of the Spirit, is given 
 to every man, to profit withal." 
 
 But how says the Apostle, '' Quench not the Spi- 
 rit?" Is the grace of God resistible? Can man 
 withstand, and turn away the operations of the Holy 
 Ghost? Yes, certainly; unless the exhortation in the 
 text, and very many of the cautions, and denuncia- 
 tions in the sacred volume, be insignificant, and man, 
 as to faith and virtue, a mere machine. We are made 
 rational, and moral beings. As such, God contem- 
 plates us in all his dispensations. To induce, not 
 force, our understandings; to assist, not compel us, to 
 be virtuous; is his purpose in the gift of his Holy 
 Spirit. This is accomplished, by setting the truth 
 before us, and enabling us to discern it ; by stirring up 
 virtuous affections in us, and by the most persuasive 
 motives, urging us to " refuse the evil, and choose the 
 good." But in our nature, we know there are princi- 
 ples opposed to this good Spirit of God. We have
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 73 
 
 ever a tempter within us. And if, when the Holy 
 Ghost invites, and would conduct us to the way of 
 truth and holiness, and " the lust of the flesh, the lust 
 of the eye, or the pride of life," urges us into devious 
 paths, we prefer the latter, we are capable of wander- 
 ing in them, and may fall therein. To deprive us of 
 the power of choosing, would be to destroy the moral 
 freedom, which constitutes us accountable beings, and 
 render our rational faculties useless. *' Not that we 
 are sufiicient of ourselves," to save or sanctify our- 
 selves. Our spiritual life is dependent on God. But, 
 in like manner, is our natural life. He is the source 
 from whom our daily existence flows. Without the 
 support of his upholding power, we could not be. *' In 
 him we live, and move, and have our being." Yet, if 
 any man, considering that the power of the Almighty 
 is the support of his life, and that without this sup- 
 port, his own exertions would be ineffectual, should 
 neglect to be cautious amidst the dangers to which he 
 is exposed, and forbear to use the means of sustaining 
 life, which the Deity has provided, what would be the 
 consequence? He would soon find that, his concur- 
 rence with the divine providence, is ordinarily neces- 
 sary to the preservation of life, and that by negligence, 
 or the abuse of his faculties, he would perish. So is 
 it with respect to spiritual life. The Spirit of God, is 
 the great source of regeneration. By his grace we 
 are saved, and renewed " after the image of Him who 
 created us." But this mighty work, is not, ordina- 
 rily, accomplished without the concurrence of our will 
 and affections. And if we are at liberty to concur, 
 and this concurrence be ordinarily requisite by the 
 constitution of the gospel, we may neglect or refuse to 
 do it, and render the admonitions and influence of the 
 Spirit ineffectual. If it be not so, wherefore is the 
 Almighty introduced in Scripture, as saying; "My 
 Spirit shall not always strive with man?" Must he 
 not have met with opposition in the hearts of men, 
 VOL, rr. 10
 
 /^ ON WHITSUiNDAY. 
 
 and been wearied with their iniquities r Wherefore 
 are they who were " hardened through the deceitful- 
 ness of sin," said to be unto every good work " repro- 
 bate?" Did the voice which, some time or other, 
 speaks in all, not speak in them, and were they without 
 the offer of that aid, ])y wliich only they could be 
 saved, left to perish? Wherefore are we exhorted, 
 not to " resist," not to *' grieve," not to " quench the 
 Spirit;" and, instead of being encouraged to trust 
 indolently to his operations, because it is He who 
 " worketh in us to will and to do," why are we re- 
 quired, by this very consideration, to be anxiously 
 active in "working out our own salvation?" Are these 
 all pious artifices to keep us employed; re(iuirements, 
 on our compliance with which, the end they propose 
 to secure, does not at all (lei)end? In short; if (he 
 influences of the Spirit cannot be frustrated, why are 
 not Christians altogether blameless, seeing he is ever 
 willing and at hand ? Why is the voice of the Holy 
 Comforter in any case unheard, or heard without efl'ect? 
 That his friendly desires may be rendered inefiectual 
 by man, the Scriptures do evidently suggest; that they 
 are rendered ineffectual, the lives of men do, too often, 
 fully prove. 
 
 It is important, then, that we be informed, of the 
 ways in which we are liable to " (puuich the Spirit." 
 
 And this we may do by our heedlessness. If we do 
 not admit and hear, cherish and obey the sacred admo- 
 nitions of the Comforter, we may bring ourselves into 
 the danger of being dci)rived of them. Though the 
 manner of his operations is mysterious, it is neverthe- 
 less sensible. In the chaos of our nature, he moves 
 upon the face of the deep; and if the clamor of the 
 passions be silenced, and the mind attentive and still, 
 iiis voice may be heard, raising our affections to the 
 Deity, and teaching us to trust in his goodness, and 
 secure his favour; calling to us, to turn from the base 
 and ruinous paths of vice, and commending to us tlit
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 75 
 
 waj's of virtue; assuring us of the importance of ouv 
 eternal concerns, and disposing us, to make a timely 
 I)rovision for their safety. If these suggestions of the 
 Holy Spirit be indulged, and we improve them by the 
 instructions of the word he has dictated, the heavenly 
 friend will take up his abode in our hearts, and favour 
 us with new, and fuller communications of himself. 
 For it is a declared principle of the Christian economy 
 that, to him " who hath, shall be given, and he shall 
 have abundantly." But if we disregard his counsels; 
 if, immersed in the vaniiies of life, we suffer him to lift 
 up his voice in vain; if when he calls, we refuse to 
 hear; if when he stretches out his hand, we do not re- 
 gard it; his slighted influences he will justly withhold, 
 and leave us to pursue our own course, and reap the 
 fruit of our own devices. 
 
 Again. The Spirit may be quenched by that pride, 
 which fills men with a confidence in their own un- 
 derstandings, and a complacent attachment to the 
 imaginations of their hearts. There are many, who, 
 when they attend to the truths of religion, are sensibly 
 warmed with a conviction of their excellence, and in 
 the management of life, are impressed with a know- 
 ledge of their obligations to virtue, and checked in 
 their inclinations to vice. They hear, distinctly, the 
 voice within them, saying: "This is the way, walk 
 ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye 
 turn to the left." But the pride of fallen nature, ren- 
 ders them superior to a counsellor. The arch adver- 
 sary enables this, his prime minister in the hearts of 
 men, to persuade them, that the restraints which are 
 about them, and the emotions of goodness, are the 
 prejudices of education, and superstitious fears. They, 
 therefore, prefer the guidance of their own minds, and 
 pursue their own projects, against every remonstrance. 
 No wonder, then, that the counsels of the Comforter, 
 are turned away. The Spirit of God, will not enter 
 into competition with the reason of man. It is the
 
 76 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 duty of the latter to prostrate itself before him. What • 
 ever truths are contained in the word which he has 
 inspired, should be embraced ; whatever path is appro* 
 ved, in the instructions of life which he has given, 
 should be pursued ; whatever conduct is required by 
 the dictates of conscience, in wiiich he speaks, should 
 be observed; however discordant with the vanity of 
 our minds, and imaginations of our evil heart. Con- 
 scious of our frailty, we should be meek. Reverenc- 
 ing his perfection, we should be docile. " God resist- 
 eth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble." 
 
 Further. The Spirit may be quenched, by our 
 habitual, or presumptuous sins. If we defile this body, 
 which he condescends to inhabit, by surrendering it to 
 evil and corrupt affections, it becomes unfit for his 
 presence. The fire of his love will not burn on the 
 heart, on which, incense is offered by the passions to 
 vice. The light of his truth will not shine in the 
 bosom, which is polluted with iniquity. Besides, to 
 subdue the dominion of sin, is the great purpose for 
 which he dwells with men. Every voluntary trans- 
 gression is, therefore, a counteraction of his work, a 
 league with his foe; a foe, which, for our sakes, he has 
 undertaken to destroy. While we continue in this 
 league, we do " despite to the Spirit of grace," and 
 may expect a diminution, and, at length, a loss of his 
 friendly admonitions and aid. For those frailties of 
 nature, from which none are free; for those errors of 
 infirmity, into which we may inadvertently fall, he has 
 compassion. He waits at the door of our hearts, to 
 guard us from these; and when they surprise us, he 
 pities our weakness. But by those habitual vices, in 
 which some allow themselves to live, and those pre- 
 sumptuous sins, which others commit in violation of 
 their conscience, and the instructions of God, he is 
 grieved and offended. " Into a malicious soul," says 
 the author of the Book of Wisdom, " he will not 
 enter, nor dwell in the body which is subject unto sin.
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 77 
 
 The Holy Spirit of discipline, will flee deceit, and 
 remove from thoughts that are without understand- 
 ing, and will not abide when unrighteousness cometh 
 in." 
 
 I observe, lastly, that we may *' quench the Spirit," 
 by neglecting to recur often to the channels, through 
 which his graces are usually communicated. Such a 
 guide and Comforter is worthy to be sought. By 
 neglecting the appointed means of grace, we, in a strict 
 sense, deprive ourselves of his services. If we do not 
 study the word of God, when it is declared to be 
 written by the Sj)irit of truth, and to be the incorrupt- 
 ible seed of whlrh we are born again; if we neglect 
 to join the assembly of the saints, when Christ has 
 promised that, *' where two or three are gathered toge- 
 ther in his name, he will be present in the midst of 
 them;" if we neither seek the blessing of the Spirit, 
 in acts of public, nor of private worship, when we are 
 expressly taught to " ask of God, who giveth to all 
 men liberally, and u|)braideth not;" if we use not the 
 holy sacraments, which are provided in the Church, 
 when we know, or should know that, they are " out- 
 ward visible signs, of an inward spiritual grace given 
 unto us, ordained by Christ himself, as a means 
 whereby we receive the same, and a pledge to assure 
 us thereof;" if we neglect to recur, with proper dispo- 
 sitions, to these many appointed means of obtaining the 
 Spirit, the probability is, that his place in our hearts, 
 will be occupied by the cares and vanities of life; the 
 holy fire, which once may have burned in our bosoms, 
 will be liable to go out; he will leave us to *' our own 
 ways," and, oh, most unhappy portion ! we shall *' be 
 filled" with the fruit of " our own devices." 
 
 You see, then, that you may resist the Spirit; and 
 in how many ways it may be quenched. Let me, I 
 pray you, with some portion of the Apostle's concern, 
 enforce his important caution, by a few weighty, and 
 afifecting considerations.
 
 78 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 Ill the first place; this Spirit, which you are ex- 
 horted not to quench, is the principle of a new and eter- 
 nal life ; the holy source of knowledge, purity, and 
 consolation. Hence, he is styled, with reference to 
 his offices amons men, the Paraclete, or Comforter; 
 and hence, his visible descent, as at this time, upon the 
 Apostles, was a pledge to the whole Church of some- 
 thing, which should be to her, in her militancy, a sub- 
 stitute for her absent Lord. Yes, ye lovers of virtue, 
 conscious of the corruption, and infirmity of your 
 nature, here is the pledge of " grace sufficient for 
 5^ou." The Spirit of God, is sent forth for your help. 
 The light which this Si)irit diffuses, must guide you to 
 truth, and enamour yon of goodness. He moves upon 
 the chaos of your disordered nature, and light spring- 
 eth forth from the darkness; order tiikoth place of llic 
 confusion of the passions, and moral beauty, and [)ro- 
 gressive holiness appear, where all was anarchy and 
 dismaying corruption. Yes, children of sorrow, 
 who, amidst the disappointments, and bereavements of 
 life, find nature weak, and anguish strong, you have 
 here assurance of an heavenly Comforter. The Spirit, 
 which " proceedeth from the Father, and the Son," is 
 a Spirit of consolation. L'pon the afflicted soul, 
 which looks to heaven for help, he will descend ; and 
 at his voice, the tumult of its sorrows will subside, and 
 the i)erturbated bosom, be hushed to a calm. Yes, 
 faithful Christian^ journeying rapidly to the tomb, you 
 have here the earnest of almighty aid, in that hour, 
 when nature needs all the assistance which heaven 
 and earth can give, the hour of death. Your Master, 
 at his ascension, hath been taken from your head, and 
 you have been left, with more than the Prophet's 
 affection to exclaim, " My father, my father, the cha- 
 riot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!" But, be- 
 hold ; his Spirit resteth upon his followers. If ye take 
 up the mantle he has left you, in his word and sacra- 
 ments, ye shall, in the power of this Spirit, go " on
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 79 
 
 your way rejoicing; and when ye are brought to the 
 stream, which separates you from your home, shall be 
 able to smite the waters and pass over untouched by 
 their waves. Oh, benighted mortals, encumbered 
 with imperfections, enveloped in darkness, and trem- 
 bling at the approach of death, "quench not the 
 Spirit." 
 
 Again. The dignity of the Comforter, and the 
 price at which his renewing influences upon our fallen 
 race were procured, should deter us from grieving, or 
 resisting the Spirit. He is the Spirit of God ; and to 
 purchase his restoration to the souls of men, the Son 
 of God expired. What is this event, which we have, 
 to-day, been commemorating at yonder holy table? 
 Even the death of Christ; not only to expiate our 
 past transgressions, but to procure that reconcilia- 
 tion, and return of the Spirit of God, to our offend- 
 ing souls, whereby we may walk in newness of 
 life. As the reward of his obedience and suffer- 
 ings, Christ received of the Father the promise of 
 the Holy Ghost; and, as an earnest of the blessing to 
 his whole Church, shed forth that, on the day of Pen- 
 tecost, of which you have this day heard. Oh ye, 
 who have been at the cross of the Redeemer; and 
 have witnessed the price at which the descent of the 
 Comforter upon the hearts of sinful man, was pro- 
 cured: " Quench not the Spirit." 
 
 Finally. It is by this Spirit, that the ransomed of the 
 Lord " are sealed, unto the day of redemption." Strive 
 then to obtain this Seal, and be careful to preserve it, 
 by walking with humble minds, in the paths of Chris- 
 tian obedience; listening, always, to his friendly ad- 
 monitions within you, and suffering nothing to turn 
 3 ou aside, from the paths of holiness, which, in the 
 word of God, he hath marked out for your feet. And 
 thou, O, blessed Spirit, who, as at this time, didst 
 descend upon the first followers of the Lamb, vouch- 
 safe, for his sake, to descend and rest upon our hearts.
 
 80 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 Bear with our imperfections. Elevate and purify our 
 desires^ Enlighten us in ignorance. Comfort us in 
 sorrow. Guide us in life, and sustain us in that hour, 
 when death shall separate us from this scene of pro- 
 bation, for ever, and ever.
 
 SERMON LIL 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 Acts, ii. 33^ 
 
 Therefore, being by the right hand of God exalted, and 
 having received of the Father the promise of the 
 Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now 
 see and hear. 
 
 J. HESE words, are a part of that animated sermon 
 of St. Peter's, which converted three thousand persons 
 to the Christian faith. It was delivered on that me- 
 morable occasion, when the Church received from her 
 Lord, his richest and most honourable gift. With 
 simple, yet awful grandeur, the Holy Ghost, sent forth 
 by the Saviour, had descended upon his Apostles, 
 while in the exercise of faith and love, they were 
 waiting for the fulfilment of their Master's promise. 
 VOL. ir. 11
 
 82 ON WHITSUNDAYi 
 
 Uncandid and amazed, the multitude gave to the oc- 
 currence, and its eOects, the most unreasonable and 
 blasphemous construction. This, roused the ardor of 
 St. Peter, and led him, in a very frank, eloquent and 
 pious discourse, to declare to them, that the same 
 Jesus, whom they had lately crucified, was the Mes- 
 siah; that God had, in exact fulfilment of the predic- 
 tions of the Prophets, raised him from the dead ; that 
 he had been constituted in heaven, " both Lord nnd 
 Christ;" and that, "being by the right hand of God 
 exalted, and having received of the Father the promise 
 of the Holy Ghost, he had shed forth that, which they 
 then saw and heard." 
 
 In commemoration of this miraculous, and important 
 event, the day of Pentecost has, from the first ages of 
 Christianity, been solemnized by the Church; and 
 under the significant name of Whitsunday, is ranked 
 amongst her most Joyful festivals. Let us, my bre- 
 thren, employ our thoughts upon the great purposes, to 
 which this event had reference, and, if any instructions 
 may be deduced from the circumstances of it, let us lay 
 them up in our hearts. 
 
 In the first place, the miraculous effusion of the 
 divine Spirit, was the strongest attestation of the 
 Saviour's ascension into heaven. On the last Lord's 
 day, we saw the importance of this article of our 
 faith, to the design and perfection of Christianity. Our 
 blessed Lord, desirous of giving to his Church, the 
 fullest evidence of his glorification, assured his disci- 
 ples, before his departure from the earth, that in testi- 
 mony of his exaltation, he would send them a blessing 
 which could come only from above; "even the Spirit 
 of truth, which proceedeth from the Father," and 
 should be in, and abide with them for ever. On this 
 test, he might have rested the certainty of his ascen- 
 sion, and, consequently, of our dearest hopes. It was 
 a test, to which there could be no exception. If, in 
 token of his ascension into heaven, ho would send rp»
 
 \ 
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 83 
 
 his followers such gifts, as could come only from 
 thence, who would be able to doubt, that he was there 
 arrived ? If, in demonstration of his accession to his 
 kingdom in heaven, he would exhibit incontrovertible 
 evidences of supremacy, who would be able to deny, 
 that " the Father had committed all things into his 
 hands?" With holy confidence, the disciples waited 
 for these fruits of the ascension ; " and when the day 
 of Pentecost was fully come, were all, with one ac- 
 cord, in one place." " He was faithful, who had 
 promised." The great attestation of his " being by 
 the right hand of God exalted," was heard, was seen, 
 was felt, and was acknowledged. The divine Spirit, 
 with expressive majesty descended. In visible form, 
 it rested upon the A[)ostles, and produced in their 
 minds and conduct, most wonderful effects. This 
 great miracle, then, preserves and strengthens the 
 basis upon which Christianity rests. In this, we have 
 the strongest proof of our Redeemer's entrance into 
 heaven, in our behalf. This, is indisputable evidence 
 of the glorious truth, that the " Captain of our salva- 
 tion" has " ascended up on high ; has led captivity 
 captive; and received gifts for men." 
 
 Another grand purpose of this miraculous efTusion 
 of the Spirit was, to qualify the Apostles for the ardu- 
 ous duties which, after Christ's reception into heaven, 
 were devolved upon them. His Church, was to be 
 established in the world. They were to be his wit- 
 nesses among all people. Through them, his religion 
 was to be maintained and propagated; the tidings of 
 salvation to be conveyed to all nations. They stood 
 in need, therefore, of supernatural endowments. Their 
 ministry required for the successful discharge of it, the 
 aid of power from on high. It was necessary that, the 
 life, the doctrines, and the precepts of the Redeemer, 
 should be transmitted to posterity. Destitute of hu- 
 man assistance, and subject to like frailties as other 
 men, how conkl these primitive disciples have accom-
 
 84 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 plished, this important work, without error or omis- 
 sion, unless the Holy Ghost had " called all things to 
 their remembrance," and " guided them into all 
 truth?" It was necessary, that they should publish 
 the gospel to people, whom they had not kno ^n, and 
 in countries with which they were utterly unacquaint- 
 ed. Illiterate, most of them, even in their mother 
 tongue, how could they have preached, and preached 
 with eloquence to the inhabitants of all climes, but by 
 being enabled to use all " tongues, as the Spirit gave 
 them utterance P" It was necessary, that they should 
 oppose venerated systems, and attack prevalent man- 
 ners. Poor and friendless, what could have encour- 
 aged them, if the Comforter had not given them a 
 mouth, and wisdom, which all their adversaries could 
 not gainsay nor resist? In exposing the injustice and 
 falsehood of the Jews; in reproving the vices of the 
 Gentiles; in condemning opinions endeared to man by 
 habit, by superstition, and by interest, they would una- 
 voidably be exposed to fatigue, to danger, to persecu- 
 tion and to death. How, then, could they have been 
 animated to their work; and supported under sufler- 
 ings, at which nature would have recoiled, if they had 
 not been furnished with strength from above, and ex- 
 perienced the truth of tlie Saviour's assurance, " Lo, I 
 am with you always, even unto the end of the world?" 
 Tiuis, to qualify, to guide, to encourage and sui>port 
 the Apostles, in their great duty of maintaining and 
 extending the religion of Christ, was one imi)ortant 
 purpose, accomplished in the effusion of the Holy 
 Ghost. It was an end worthy of the great miracle. 
 The reality of the occurrence, was evidenced by the 
 efl'ects of it; for while yet the "cloven tongues, like 
 as of fire," were visible, nuiltiludes abandoning their 
 friends, their interest and tlieir ease, believed ; and 
 before seventy years had elapsed, after the ascension 
 of the Redeemer, the feet of those who brought good 
 tidings, and published peace, had trodden all i)arts of
 
 ^ / ON WHITSUNDAY. 85 
 
 the known world. Without supernatural aid, the 
 rapid extension of Christianity, in the way in which it 
 was extended, could never have been accomplished; 
 and those endowments which were shed upon the 
 Apostles, on the day of Pentecost, were peculiarly 
 adapted to the purpose, and adequate to the amazing 
 effects which were produced. It was " the Lord's 
 doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." 
 
 Once more. When the Comforter was given visi- 
 bly to the Apostles, it was an earnest of the fulfilment 
 of the promise, to be found only in the gospel of 
 Christ, that the divine Spirit will be ever ready to 
 instruct the sincere, in the season of inquiry; to 
 strengthen the virtuous in the hour of temjitation; and 
 to comfort the good man in the day of adversity. A 
 moment's reflection will convince us, that man, in his 
 present state, is able ])ut imperfectly to investigate the 
 truths, which it most concerns him to know. Reason, 
 at the best, has but a limited range, and there are pas- 
 sions and prejudices, which, most unhappily, weaken 
 and bias its operations. Equally evident is ir, that 
 our nature is feeble, of itself, to defend the fortresses 
 of virtue, against the artifices and assaults of vice. 
 " In many things we oflt'iid all," and the best of our 
 race, have bemoaned their mability to bring to perfec- 
 tion, even those virtues, which their minds and their 
 hearts approve. And who has not known, how hard 
 the struggles with which the soul supports itself under 
 the afflictions, which darken its proi)ects, and blast its 
 joys? In ease and prosperity, it is strong; but in 
 trouble, it faints; and the cup, which should be to it 
 as a medicine of life, it converts, by the stubbornness 
 of its will, into a potion of maddening anguish, or im- 
 pious discontent. A consideration of these truths, led 
 the wisest of the heathens to think it necessary, that 
 the gods should invisibly guide, and comfort the virtu- 
 ous. And every person, who soberly contemplates 
 man, groaning under the burden of sin, under the
 
 86 ON WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 pressure of affliction, and under the consciousness of' 
 mortality, must perceive amongst its most pressing 
 necessities, the want of some source of knowledge, 
 holiness and consolation, greater, and more constant, 
 than any thing which frail nature finds in itself. But 
 who, except the adonible Being that is " l)y the right 
 hand of God exalted," hath " received of the Father, 
 the promise of the Holy Ghost?" The purchase and 
 gift of the Comforter, was the work of Christ. En- 
 riching his religion with i boon, no where else to be 
 found, he hath taught mankind, that upon honest 
 inquiry, active virtue, and humble sorrow, tiic Spirit 
 of God will ever bestow, its needed aid and blessing. 
 The precious i)romise is his gift to his Church; pur- 
 chased for us with his blood, and bestowed upon the 
 redeemed of every place and gciK^ration. And the 
 miraculous descent of the Comforter, on the day of 
 Pentecost, was the confirmation of this joyful doctrine. 
 It was expedient for the conviction of the multitude, 
 and for rendering the fulfilment of the promises a|)pa- 
 rent, that, at the iirst full efl'usion, there should be a 
 visible and significant descent, lie came, to be to the 
 Church in her militant state, the holy subsiiditr; for 
 her absent Lord; ami, in every soul, which is willing 
 to become a temi)le for liis abode, he is ready lo 
 dwell; illumining and cheering it with his heavenly 
 inlluences; cleansing it from all defilement; and iill- 
 ing it with love, and hope, and peace. This, the 
 whole tenor of the gospel teaches us. This, the 
 Apostles declared, while yet the luminous aiipearance 
 rested upon them, and the Spirit filled the house 
 where they were assembled. " The promise," said 
 Peter to the multitude, "is unto you, and to your 
 children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as 
 the Lord our God shall call." But the sacred fne, 
 though no longer visible, still burns in the souls of 
 believers. The Spirit which then desreiulcd, to pro- 
 tect the faith and virtue of tlu* i)riiniti\e Cliti^riui^:
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 87 
 
 to furnish them with connsel and strength, for the dis- 
 charge of their duties, and to support them under the 
 trials and troubles which awaited them, is, though 
 invisible, yet at hand, to continue his benevolent offices 
 to all the faithful. 
 
 Such, are the leading purposes, to which the descejit 
 of the Holy Ghost had reference. And whether we 
 consider it, as testifying to us the exaltation of our 
 Lord, or as qualifying the Apostles to publish his 
 gospel, and establish his Church; or as being an ear- 
 nest of the readiness of the Holy Spirit to descend, 
 and dwell with all believers, it is an occasion for 
 ardent thanksgiving, and sacred joy. In that view of 
 it, especially, which encourages us to look for this 
 holy Comforter, to help our infirmities, and guide us 
 through the difficulties and sorrows of the region of 
 sin and mutability, it is a spring of unspeakable eleva- 
 tion and happiness. But, let us not be unmindful of 
 the state of those, to whom the " Spirit of truth, and 
 holiness" was s(Mit. 
 
 In the fust place, they were waiting for him with 
 faith. Believing the word of their Master, they " tar- 
 ried at Jerusalem, till they should be endued with 
 power from on high." In like manner, believe ye the 
 declarations of the gospel. Have confidence in the 
 promises of God. In all the ways which he hath 
 appointed, seek, with believing hearts, his gracious 
 assistance, and, in due time, you also will receive the 
 Holy Ghost. 
 
 Further. The primitive Christians " were of one 
 iieart and one soul." They observed the same ways; 
 and thought the same things. That divine love 
 reigned in their bosoms, and regulated their actions, 
 which discards whatever is contentious, or unkind; 
 whatever is injurious to our neighbour, or offensive to 
 God. In like manner, be it your endeavour, to " hold 
 the faith, in unity of Spirit; in the bond of peace, and 
 in rishteousness of life." If vou would have the
 
 88 PN WHITSUNDAY. 
 
 Holy Ghost dwell in your hearts, remove therefrom all 
 envious and malevolent passions; all strife, and dis- 
 sention; all impurity, contention, or wrong, which 
 may injure others, or debase yourselves. " For into 
 a malicious soul, he will not enter ; nor dwell in a 
 body which is subject to sin. The Holy Spirit of dis- 
 cipline ^vill flee deceit, and will not abide when 
 unrighteousness cometh in." 
 
 Finally. For the purposes of devotion, the Apostles 
 "were, with one accord, in one place." It is prayer, 
 and Christian communion, which brings upon the 
 faithful the influences of the Holy Spirit. " If any 
 man lack wisdom," or strength, or comfort, " let him 
 ask it of God." In asking for the assistances of the 
 Holy Ghost, he cannot ask amiss; and he has the 
 most express assurance of his Lord, that whatsoever 
 he shall thus ask, " believing, he shall receive." If, 
 at the present day, the power of the Holy Spirit is 
 little felt, and the fruits of his influences are little 
 manifested, it is because the ordinances, which are the 
 channels of his graces, are unheeded, or frequented 
 with unholiness; and prayer, the powerful and ap- 
 pointed moan of obtaining his aid, is forgotten, or 
 neglected. Would you be partakers with the first 
 disciples, of this extraordinary gift? Imitate their 
 devotion. Form yourselves, as far as the circum- 
 stances of your age will admit, after the beautiful 
 model of a Christian Church, which they have left- 
 Like them, " continue steadfastly in the Apostles' doc- 
 trine, and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in 
 prayers." 
 
 These are important instructions, to be derived from 
 the state of our fathers, and elder brethren in the 
 Church, upon whom, on the day of Pentecost, the 
 Holy Ghost descended. Lay them, my Christian 
 hearers, lay them up in your hearts. And now, O, 
 Holy Comforter, vouchsafe, unworthy as we are, to 
 descend and dwell in our souls. Increase and estab
 
 ON WHITSUNDAY. 8^9 
 
 lish our faith in the Lord Jesus. Quicken our zeal, 
 and enlighten our minds. Check and restrain us from 
 all evil, and prompt us effectually to every good work. 
 Support and comfort us, under all the allotments of 
 our probation; and, by thy mighty influences, purify 
 us to a meetness for that kingdom of glory, to which 
 our Redeemer is ascended, and where, with the Father, 
 and with thee, O, Holy Ghost ! He is worthy to re- 
 ceive glory and honour, dominion and praise, now, 
 henceforth, and for ever. 
 
 VOL. II. 12
 
 SERMON LUI. 
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 JCDE, 3- ^ 
 
 That ye should earnestly contend for the faiths which 
 2vas once delivered unto the Saints. 
 
 A HIS epistle of Jude, is written to all ** them that 
 are sanctified by God the Father, and preserved 
 in Jesus Christ, and called." To us, it has come; 
 and in it, we have an interest, and may find instruc- 
 tion. The assertion it contains of the divinity of our 
 Lord ; the striking description it gives of corrupters of 
 the faith, and separatists from the Church ; the solemn 
 admonitions it contains to purity, and constancy, in 
 our principles and practice, and its affecting allusions 
 to past dispensations of God, as illustrative of his 
 gpvernment towards his Church, render it a very im-
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 91 
 
 pressive part of holy writ. But, chiefly, must we 
 admire the solicitude of Jude, about the genuine doc- 
 trines of the gospel, as they were delivered by Jesus 
 Christ. For the preservation of these, in their origi- 
 nal purity, and the exclusion of errors and innovations 
 from the Church, he was filled with holy anxiety. 
 *' Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you 
 of the common salvation, it was needful for me to 
 write unto you, and to exhort you, that ye should 
 earnestly contend for the faith, which was once deliv- 
 ered unto the saints ; for there are certain men crept in 
 unawares, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God 
 into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, 
 and our Lord Jesus Christ." Let us take this exhor- 
 tation for the guide of our present meditations. It 
 will furnish us with some hints, worthy of notice and 
 remembrance. 
 
 In the first place, we may remark, that the faith of 
 the Church is immutable. It is the same in every age. 
 The ingenuity of men may form new theories, and 
 divers schemes of salvation. In the proud exercise of 
 their reason, they may think to change principles, 
 and rectify revelation. Or in ages of lukewarmness, 
 they may suffer fashion to become an arbitress of opi- 
 nions, and subject to her capricious influence religious 
 truth. But the counsels and declarations of God, are 
 unchangeable. They "are the same yesterday, to- 
 day, and for ever." What was the only true faith, in 
 the first ages of Christianity, is the only true faith 
 now. Human reason cannot have added any thing to 
 the revelations of God. Whenever it attempts to 
 mend the work of tlie Almighty, it can only manifest 
 its own presumption and feebleness, and must leave 
 those, whom it undertakes to guide, in the dangerous 
 state of perplexity and disputation. In forming our 
 ieligious opinions, whether with regard to doctrinal 
 points, or to the constitution and discipline of the 
 Church, or to the application of practical rules, wr
 
 92 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 should have recourse to the sacred volume. Here we 
 may drink at the source of truth ; may derive instruc- 
 tion from the fountain head of knowledge. If doubts 
 arise, respecting the coincidence, or interpretation of 
 any parts of Scripture, they should be discussed by the 
 light which the primitive Church affords. It should 
 be a recommendation of a religious opinion, that it 
 wants novelty ; that it is not the offspring of modern 
 discovery; for we may be assured, that there is but one 
 scheme of salvation, but one gospel of truth, and that 
 this scheme, was fully received; that this gospel was 
 correctly understood, by those inspired men to whom 
 the establishment and care of the Church, was first 
 committed. Venerable antiquity is, therefore, a cha- 
 racteristic of religious truth. In every case, the old- 
 est opinion in the Christian Church, is the best. Had 
 this principle been adhered to, the existence of the 
 Holy Trinity; the interest of all men in the media- 
 tion of Christ; the divine origin and distinct orders of 
 the Christian Priesthood, and the final administration 
 of a retribution to every man, according to his deeds, 
 wonld never have been called in question. But the 
 human mind is never at rest. It has been prone from 
 the beginning, to leave the ways and word of God, 
 and " to seek out" for itsdf " many inventions." 
 *' Be not" ye, brethren, " carried about with divers 
 and strange doctrines." " Stand in the ways, and see, 
 and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and 
 walk therein." Recur for your opinions to the sacred 
 writings, and to the interpretations and practice of the 
 primitive Church. These means, together with the 
 aid of the Holy Spirit, are the only sure means of com- 
 ing at " the faith, once delivered to the saints." 
 
 Again. For those truths of religion, which were 
 received by the Apostles and primitive disciples of our 
 Lord, we are to " contend ;" and to contend " ear- 
 nestly." But, what! is St. Jude a preacher of strife 
 and contention ; of bigotry and })crsecution ^ No ; by
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 93 
 
 no means. It is the duty of every man to love the 
 truth, and that which a man loves, he will cherish 
 with ardor, and protect with resolution. It is also the 
 duty of every man, to set his face against error, 
 especially, against those errors, by which the revela- 
 tions of God, the blessed words of eternal life, may 
 be endangered or corrupted. This he owes to his 
 Lord, whose cause he is bound, by the highest consi- 
 derations, to protect in its purity and dignity ; and he 
 owes it to his neighbour, whom he cannot, consist- 
 ently with the regard which is due to him, see 
 estranged from the paths of truth and soberness, 
 without feeling the most lively concern. But, in doing 
 this, it is not necessary that he should be filled with 
 animosity, or neglect any dictate of candor, or charity 
 towards his fellow men. The same right of judging, 
 which he asserts for himself, he will be careful, when 
 there are not obvious reasons for restraining it, to 
 allow his neighbour to use for himself; and will never 
 permit a discordance of opinion, to divert the streams 
 of his benevolence from his brother, but, on the con- 
 trary, will manifest his love, by the meekness of his 
 wisdom, and the disinterestedness of his prayers. But, 
 though he contends for truth with meekness, he will 
 contend firmly. Though he opposes error with can- 
 dor and charity, he will oppose it " earnestly;" not 
 with any view to personal triumph, or to the exaltation 
 of the party to which he belongs ; but with a single 
 eye to the glory of God, and salvation of men, which 
 the predominance of truth alone, can accomplish. 
 
 There are some persons, who hear all doctrines, and 
 are satisfied with almost all they hear. In a state of 
 easy indifference, they care not to perplex themselves 
 with laborious inquiries about the doctrines of the 
 gospel, wishing only that the current of opinions may 
 pass on smoothly, and that tliey may pass on quietly 
 with it. This lukewarmness, is peculiarly incompat- 
 ible with the spirit of the text. Tt proceeds from
 
 94 ON TRIiNlTY 3CNDAY. 
 
 indolence, or spiritual insensibility. Every man is 
 obligated to attend, to what his Maker reveals. " The 
 faith once delivered to the Saints," must be clear and 
 definite; for Ave could not, otherwise, be exhorted to 
 " contend" for it. It must be sublime and interesting; 
 for it relates to the nature of God, and our own salva- 
 tion. It must be of unsi)eakable imjiortance ; for the 
 Son of God, came down from heaven to bring it to us ; 
 and the Holy Ghost waits, to confirm it in our hearts. 
 Every Christian, therefore, who is awakened by the 
 power of the gospel, will apply himself sedulously, to 
 understand what the will, and the revelation of the 
 Lord is. Those fundamental princii)les of his religion, 
 which were received by " the saints," and have been 
 maintained by the Church, in all ages, will be dear to 
 his heart. He will cherish ihcm, with such zeal and 
 affection, as he would feel for their adorable Author, 
 were he upon the earth. Delusive, and dangerous is 
 the sentiment, that it matters not what are a man's 
 principles, provided his life be good. It is " for the 
 faith," we are charged by the voice of inspiration to 
 " contend." Indeed, hardly will his life be good, 
 whose principles are bad. Though a sound faith, may 
 not always render a man what he should be, yet, 
 without a sound faith, it is impossible to please God. 
 For he who cometh unto God, unless he would affront 
 the majesty of heaven, must believe the truths which 
 God hath revealed, and live by the doctrines, which he 
 hath inculcated. 
 
 There is, also, a false comi)laisance, which, under 
 the notion of liberality, would disguise the distinctions 
 of things, and amalgamate all the different opinions of 
 men. Liberality, rightly understood, is an amiable 
 disposition of soul. It is fostered by the si)irit of 
 Christianity, as the offspring of heav<;u, and chosen 
 companion of virtue. But there is a dangerous im- 
 posing principle which assumes its name. It is a 
 princii»le, however pi.iiisible in appearaiice. which in
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 95 
 
 full action would blend, what the Deity hath eternally 
 separated ; would break down the distinctions which 
 roust, for ever, exist between that, which is right, and 
 that which is wrong. This mistaken liberality, can 
 derive, I think, no plea from its utility, and can find, 
 I am sure, no countenance in Christianity. The 
 gospel requires us all to think the same things, be- 
 cause it teaches all the same things. We should 
 jepresent its adorable Author, as weak and variable 
 as ourselves, if we should suppose that, he equally 
 approves those, who own and adore their God in 
 their Redeemer, and those, who strip him of his 
 divinity and worship ; those, who abide by the minis- 
 try and ordinances, which he hath appointed, and 
 those, who depart from them altogether. Religion, 
 admits of no coalition between right and wrong; of 
 no compromise between truth and error. As Chris- 
 tians, we are obligated to sanction the currency of 
 those opinions only, which bear the stamp of the 
 Almighty, and will be received at the treasury of hea- 
 ven, in the day of account. 
 
 But, from " the faith once delivered to the saints," 
 there have been many departures. In the lapse of 
 time since the coming of Christ, men have corrupted 
 the truth, and multitudes are in the world, who hold 
 not " the form of sound words ;" many of them, doubt- 
 less, through unavoidable ignorance, and involuntary 
 error. With what spirit are they to be consid- 
 ered ? Are we to judge them severely, or to carry 
 ourselves unkindly towards them? Should we, if we 
 could, let loose the ministers of persecution, or call 
 ''down fire from heaven" to destroy them? Ah, no. 
 The religion of the Prince of Peace, refuses the aid 
 of passion and of force. It seeks not the salvation and 
 happiness of men, in their misery and destruction. 
 And they who in any age have had recourse to these 
 means, what shall we say of them ? Alas, they have 
 not known " what manner of spirit they were of!"
 
 96 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 That contention for " the faith once delivered to the 
 Saints," which the gospel requires of us, is not con- 
 ducted acceptably to its Author, unless the law of 
 kindness be upon our tongues, and the feelings of cha- 
 rity in our bosoms. But, while the true Christian 
 shrinks from a persecuting, he shrinks, also, from a 
 prevaricating spirit. Charity, can never call him one 
 way, while truth calls him another. Indeed, the high- 
 est charity he can confer on his fellow men, is, to use 
 his exertions in preserving the gospel among them in 
 its original purity, and promoting its blessed influences 
 upon their hearts and lives. He abides, therefore, 
 with zeal, by the ancient and unchangeable doctrines 
 and institutions of the Church. He manfully avows 
 his belief in them. He asserts with meekness, yet 
 with firmness, their authority and importance. He 
 concedes not, under a mistaken notion of liberality, 
 any ground to error, nor abates any thing of the high 
 claims of truth. Yet, he wishes the salvation of all 
 men; and when he surveys the heresies and schisms 
 which are in the world, his love for " the faith once 
 delivered to the Saints," as well as his desire that all 
 men may find the mercy of the Lord Jesus, unto eter- 
 nal life, prompts, in his devotions, the ardent prayer, 
 that it would please God, " to bring into the way of 
 truth, all such as have erred, and are deceived." 
 
 But, the text further suggests to us, what is the 
 ground, upon which the doctrines of the gospel are to 
 be defended, that they were " delivered to the Saints." 
 We are not exhorted to " contend for the faith," which 
 reason has discovered, or philosophy devised. We 
 are not exhorted to maintain " earnestly" the princi- 
 ples, which are level to our capacity, or the opinions 
 which sagacious inquirers have formed. But we are 
 exhorted to " contend" for the doctrines and institu- 
 tions, which were originally received from God. And 
 this, 1 conceive, is the proper ground, upon which all 
 the doctrines of the gosi)el are to be embraced ; that
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 97 
 
 they were revealed by the Ahuighty. It is the right 
 employment of our understandings, to ascertain what 
 the principles were, which the saints received, and to 
 ascertain, also, that they received them with sufficient 
 evidence of their coming from God. This done, we 
 are to believe them, upon the ground of the divine 
 veracity, and to submit our opinions and lives, entirely 
 to their control. 
 
 But, you will say, there are things in the Scriptures, 
 for which we see no reason, and mysteries, of which 
 we have no comprehension. Be it so. This does not 
 at all disparage their truth. If we will assent to no- 
 thing, which we do not comprehend, we shall be 
 unable to believe the testimony of our senses, or the 
 consciousness of our own minds. For we have not 
 less comprehension of any of the mysteries of religion, 
 than we have of the manner, in which our senses con- 
 vey the images of material objects to our minds, or 
 than we have of the wonderful, daily miracle, whereby 
 we retain the being which we are conscious we pos- 
 sess. The subjects, to which the mysterious doctrines 
 of our faith relate, we have not faculties to scan. 
 *' They are high as heaven! what can we do? They 
 are deeper than hell ! what can we know ?" And as 
 to the institutions and requirements of the gospel, 
 whose necessity, or fitness, we cannot perceive, God, 
 surely, is not obliged to give to his creatures a reason 
 for the mode, in which he chooses to convey to them 
 his blessings. Whatever he has vouchsafed to reveal 
 to us, of his nature or will, we are to receive with the 
 submissiveness of pupils, with the docility of little chil- 
 dren. And, indeed, pupils we are, at our best estate, 
 who need some one to instruct us concerning the divine 
 nature, and our own duty and destination. We are 
 no more than children, who have not faculties for 
 acquiring the knowledge, nor powers for obtaining the 
 treasures, which are essential to our everlasting peace, 
 and whom it becomes, to receive, with all humility and 
 
 VOF.. Ih 13
 
 98 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 obedience, whatever instructions our heavenly Father 
 sees jfit to give us. The mysterious doctrines of his 
 word we are to embrace, not because we comprehend; 
 but, because they are taught us by that Being, who is 
 too wise to be deceived himself, and too good, to 
 deceive his children. Our own understandings are, in 
 matters of revelation, to be subjected to the obedience 
 of faith ; and all the imaginations of our minds, and 
 inclinations of our wills, to be brought into captivity 
 unto Christ. 
 
 In the remainder of this discourse, I shall apply 
 what has been said, to a subject which has all the 
 while been in my view; the sublime and im|»ortant 
 doctrine of the Trinity. Having, in the festivals 
 which we have successively celebrated, from Advent 
 to this day, set before us the distinrt offices of the Son, 
 and the Holy Spirit, in our salvation, the Church, to- 
 day, calls us around the altar of Christian faith, " to 
 acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in 
 the power of the divine Majesty, to worship the 
 Unity." This mode of the existence of the divinity, by 
 a Trinity of Persons, in one undivided essence, is, 
 indeed, " the faith, once delivered to the Saints;" for 
 it was exhibited in the morning of creation; it was 
 taught to the chosen i)eople in the names, and by the 
 circumstances, under which Jehovah manifested him- 
 self to them; it is illustrated to those, who have a 
 spiritual discernment, by many striking analogies in 
 the natural world ; it is unequivocally asserted by 
 Christ and his Apostles; and it has been the prevailing 
 faith of the Church, in all ages of its existence. It is 
 a very essential, and important doctrine of our religion, 
 and, therefore, we are " earnestly to contend" for it. 
 On it, depends the consistency and significance of 
 Scripture; the greatness and sufficiency of the atone- 
 ment; the lawfulness and pro|)riety of the homage 
 with which we honour the Son and the Si)irit, " even 
 as we honour the Father:" the fulness of the Chris-
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 9^ 
 
 lian's comfort and confidence; and liis happy assur- 
 ance, that his Lord is adequate to the supply of all his 
 necessities, and "able," by his mighty power, "to 
 subdue all things unto himself." The ground on 
 which it is to be believed is, that it is taught us in the 
 revelations of God. To comprehend, or explain, this 
 mysterious existence of three Persons in one God, is 
 utterly beyond our power. Nor should this, in any 
 degree, surprise us. Our minds would be infinite, it 
 we were capable of apprehending, fully, the mode of 
 existence of an Infinite Being. He, alone, is capable 
 of informing us concerning it, by whom, alone, it is 
 comprehensible. For our instruction and comfort, he 
 has graciously manifested himself to us, under the cha- 
 racters, in which he eternally exists; and draws us to 
 him, by each of these characters, as the Father devis- 
 ing, the Son purciiasing, and the Holy Ghost, applying 
 that merciful redemption, by which we are saved from 
 our sins, and begotten again to the inheritance of 
 eternal life. And, " O, man, who art thou, that repli- 
 est against God!" What are thy powers, that thou 
 shouldest scrutinize the account, which thy Creator 
 hath given of his own existence! Go, say of the 
 pebble under thy feet, by what mysterious power its 
 parts cohere! Go, tell of the colours which refresh 
 thy sight, how they exist in the tulip, and in the bow; 
 and by what mysterious connection they are imaged 
 by thy eye to thy mind! Go, say of that reason, in 
 which thou vainly boastest, how it exists in conjunction 
 with thy body, and actuates thy will ! Not, till thou 
 canst guess aright concerning the things that are upon 
 the earth, can it become thee to cavil at the revelations 
 of God. Betake thee, rather, to the Father, through 
 the mediation of the Son, by the power of the Holy 
 Ghost; and beseech the Eternal God, to give thee 
 grace, to confess the true faith, and to keep thee 
 steadfast in this faith^ evermore.
 
 100 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 My brethren, in this age of innovation, when human 
 reason exalteth itself, as the standard of all truth, 
 many are found, who depart from " the faith once 
 delivered to the Saints," and by stripping him of his 
 Divinity, do, in effect, " deny the Lord who bought 
 them." At such a time, it is peculiarly incumbent 
 upon you, whose lot God has graciously cast in a 
 Ch6rrch, in which " the form of sound words" is, and 
 ever has been preserved, to assert zealously, and main- 
 tain inviolably, this ancient article of our holy faith. 
 Listen not to their language, and peruse not their 
 works, who, under a show of philosophy, and supe- 
 rior reason, would carry you away from this funda- 
 mental doctrine. Teach your children, and your 
 children's children, the existence of the three gracious 
 Persons in the " one" only " living and true God ; and 
 accustom them to render the due, and appropriate 
 homage to each of the names, into which they were 
 baptised.
 
 SERMON LIV. 
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 I JOHK, V. 7. 
 
 There are three that hear record in heaven^ the Father^ 
 the Wordy and the Holy Ghost; and tJiese three are 
 one. 
 
 T is a peculiar excellency of our Church, that, while 
 she preserves in purity the morality, she is not negli- 
 gent of the doctrines of Christianity. By the perfec- 
 tion of her arrangements, all the grand doctrinal 
 truths of the gospel, are, in the course of the year, 
 presented to her sons for special contemplation. By 
 this means, she secures from neglect, or perversion, 
 those points of faith, which are the essentials of our 
 religion, and, at the same time, renders unnecessary, 
 those frequent disputations upon doctrinal subjects*
 
 102 ON TRINITY SUNDAY, 
 
 which do not make men either wiser or better. Hav- 
 ing lately exhibited to us the mercy and holiness of 
 God, the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of 
 Christ, and the descent of the Holy Ghost to abide 
 with Christians, she, to-day, calls us to collect our 
 thoughts and contemplate that mystery of revelation, 
 the holy and eternal Trinity. A subject this, solemnly 
 sublime ; and offered to finite minds, as a matter for 
 belief, not comprehension. Every endeavour, with 
 merely human faculties, to comprehend tliis mysrriy, 
 must prove futile; for " can we by searching find out 
 God; can we find out the Almighty to perfection ? It 
 is high as heaven; what can we do? Deeper than 
 hell; what can we know? The measure thereof is 
 longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." The 
 business of the Christian, to-day, is, not to indulge in 
 human speculations; not to be beguiled by the pride 
 of human reason, but to recur, with humility, to that 
 fountain, which Deity has set open for his instruction, 
 and to draw thence the truth, with which his Church 
 now requires him to refresh his memory. Impressed 
 with these sentiments, I have selected as a guide to 
 your thoughts, the plain and explicit declaration of 
 John, which was read at the opening of this dis- 
 course: " There are three that bear record in heaven, 
 the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost; and these 
 three are one." 
 
 In discoursing from these words, I shall endeavour 
 to show; 
 
 First, that the Godhead is one: 
 
 Secondly, that in this Unity of the Godhead, there 
 is a Trinity of Persons ; and. 
 
 Thirdly, that the Persons of the Trinity are co-equal 
 and co-existent. 
 
 The illustration of these several points, will be ad- 
 duced, almost wholly, from Scripture; for, I aver, that 
 such is this mystery, as to leave it altogether improba- 
 ble, perhaps impossible, that it should have beec
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. lOS 
 
 devised by the human mind ; and that, therefore, we 
 indulge our vanity, and our aversion to spiritual 
 truth, when we look for the circumstances of it, else- 
 where than in the records of divine revelation. 
 
 This premised, I proceed to show, in the first place, 
 that the Godliead is one. The unity of the divine 
 essence, is^ throughout the sacred volume, made the 
 fundamental article of true religion. It is probable 
 that, information upon this point was communicated 
 to man, when, in a state of innocence, he conversed 
 with his God ; and that it descended by tradition to 
 after generations, till it was lost in the commixture of 
 human corruptions. So consentaneous is it with pure 
 reason ; so essential to the rational idea of a supreme 
 cause, that we find it separated from the crude mass 
 of polytheism, by the most enlightened heathen sages, 
 who possessed as clear perceptions of it, as could be 
 expected among nations, whose gods were as nume- 
 rous as the whims of fancy, and who were idolatrous 
 by institution. When Deity, that he might revive and 
 preserve among men, a knowledge of himself, gave to 
 the Jews the Old Testament revelation, he founded 
 their temple, their rites, and their obedience, upon the 
 truth, " The Lord, he is one God, there is none else 
 beside him." The universal language of the Old 
 Testament is, *' 1 am the first, and I am the last; and 
 beside me, there is no God." When in the fulness of 
 time the whole counsel of the Most High was mani- 
 fested by Jesus Christ, mankind were taught that, 
 eternal life depended upon knowing the " one living 
 and true God." The acknowledgement of the Re- 
 deemer is not more essential to Christianity, than a 
 belief in one Supreme Creator of all things, and 
 Governor of the universe, the true and incomprehen- 
 sible God. We have one Father, even God. To us 
 there is one God. There is none who doeth good 
 but one, that is God. So that, whether we consult 
 with reason, with the historians and proi>hets of the
 
 104 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 Old Testament, with Christ himself, or with the wri- 
 ters of the gospel, we shall be taught the unity of the 
 Deity. 
 
 I now proceed to show, secondly, that in this 
 unity of the Godhead, there is a Trinity of Persons. 
 XJnable to comprehend perfectly the nature of Deity, 
 man, of himself, can predicate nothing concerning the 
 mode of his existence. All knowledge upon this 
 point, must come from the oracles of truth ; and they 
 abundantly substantiate the present position. My text, 
 in as plain words as can be written or spoken, declares, 
 that three divers Persons in heaven, were active in, 
 and about, the redemption of man; and that these 
 three existed in the unity of the Godhead. " There 
 are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the 
 AVord, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one." 
 I know, that the autlienticity of this passage has been 
 disputed, and that the foes of the orthodox faith have 
 parried it, by calling it an interpolation. The objec- 
 tion evinces the difficulty of clothing the passage, with 
 any other construction, than that which has been 
 given, and thus secures it from that perversion, whicli, 
 to accommodate human reason, or rather human igno- 
 rance^ many passages of tlie New Testament have been 
 made to endure. Admitting, however, that the authen- 
 ticity of this passage is not certain, our position docs 
 not depend upon this one passage of sacred writ for 
 support. At the baptism of Christ, the Scripture his- 
 tory exhibits to us the Holy Three severally engaged; 
 the Son receiving this sacrament, the Spirit descending 
 upon him, and the Father proclaiming his character. 
 The Apostles wish to their brethren, the grace of the 
 Lord Jesus, the love of God, and the fellowship of the 
 Holy Spirit. The Saviour, himself, when commis- 
 sioning his ministers, commanded them to baptise " in 
 the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the 
 Holy Ghost." To adduce no more of the texts, 
 which every where abound in the gospel, to wave the
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 105 
 
 traces of this truth in the writings of some heathens, 
 and in many of the acts, titles, and adorations of the 
 Sui)reme Being under the Jewish dispensation, and to 
 avoid mentioning the conjectures of wise and good 
 men, concerning the symbolic representation of the 
 Trinity, in every created object, let me ask, what the 
 opponents of the doctrine will do with the passages 
 above quoted ? Will they make these vital parts of 
 the gospel, interpolations? No. They prefer giving 
 to them a sense of their own. Instead of humbly 
 following the direct, and literal signification of Scrip- 
 ture, upon a subject infinitely above their comprehen- 
 sion, they have warped, and bent the word of God, to 
 their own conceptions, till some, with Arius, have 
 " denied the Lord who bought them," reducing Christ 
 to a mere creature; others, with Sabellius, have ren- 
 dered the conduct of Jesus, and the institutes of his 
 religion, ridiculous, by supposing them to have com- 
 manded Christians to be baptised, and blessed, first, 
 in the name of the Father, the one entire Deity, and 
 then, in names appropriated, not to diflferent beings, 
 but to energies of that same Deity ; and others, with 
 Socinus, who make the Redeemer of our Souls, a 
 mere human being. These schemes, and the various 
 branches of Unitarianism, diverging from each of 
 them, are not the result of a candid reading of the 
 Scriptures; but of finite speculations concerning the 
 secrets of heaven, and foolish endeavours of men, to 
 measure the mysteries of revelation by their narrow 
 capacities. Whoever will read the Bible, with an 
 honest intent to ascertain its doctrine upon this point, 
 will find all the parts of it concurrent with the decla- 
 ration in my text, " There are three that bear record 
 in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy 
 Ghost." 
 
 I hasten now to show, thirdly, that the Persons of 
 the Holy and ever Blessed Trinity, are co-equal and 
 <?r)-existent. This is implied in the last clans© of the 
 
 vor^ IK 14
 
 106 ON TRINlxr SUNDAY. 
 
 text, " these three are one." No one can need to be 
 informed, that the Father is fully, and essentially God 
 over all blessed for evermore. Now, if it can be 
 proved from Scripture, that the Son is God, and that 
 the Holy Ghost is God, it will clearly follow, that the 
 Holy Three are co-equal and co-existent. Deity is 
 designated in Scripture, by titles appropriated to him ; 
 by honours due to him ; and by attributes which can 
 bo predicated of none but the Supreme Being. He, 
 therefore, to whom theso titles, honours, and attri- 
 butes are assigned, must be God. Each, and every of 
 them, are, in numberless passages of the sacred writ- 
 ings, given both to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. 
 As my time has almost elapsed, a few texts establish- 
 ing the divinity of each, shall be adduced, and recol- 
 lection, or your Bibles, will fusnish you with a variety 
 of others. First of the Son. It was lately shown to be 
 an essential article of Christianity, that Christ should 
 judge the world. St. Paul speaking of this judgement, 
 has this remarkable passage, " we shall all stand before 
 the judgement seat of Christ; for it is written: As I live, 
 saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every 
 tongue shall confess to God. So, then, every one ol* 
 us shall give account of himself to God." Here the 
 Apostle expressly makes Christ God, and it is observa- 
 ble, that he alludes to a passage in Isaiah, in which 
 these very words are represented as coming from Jeho- 
 vah, a name so solemnly appropriated to the Most High, 
 that the Jews never pronounced it. St. John declares 
 the Logos, or Word, to be God, and to have been the 
 Creator of all things which were made. John, in the 
 chapter from which the text is selected, styles Jesus 
 Christ, "the true God." In Jude, he is called, "the 
 only wise God." In Romans, he is said to be " over 
 all, God blessed for ever." The Redeemer of Israel, 
 the ^ aviour, the Messiah, is called by the Prophets 
 " King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the first and the 
 last:" and in the New Testament, with allusion to
 
 ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 107 
 
 these expressions, the same titles of divinity are given 
 to Christ. Divine worship was ordered by ihe Father 
 himself, to be offered to the Son: " Let all the angels 
 of God, worship him." He received adoration from 
 his Disciples when present, and the primitive Chris- 
 tians worshipped him as God. In a word. Omni- 
 science, Omnipotence, Eternity, Infinite Goodness, 
 all the attributes which can be inherent in God alone, 
 are declared to be in Christ, in so express terms, as to 
 admit of no equivocation, and so numerous passages, 
 as to render a selection unnecessary. From all which 
 it appears, that Jesus Christ was true, and very God. 
 It is objected, that he sometimes speaks of himself as 
 inferior to the Father. He does so. But, whenever 
 he does, the critical observer will find, he speaks in 
 his human capacity, viewing himself as man. Let me 
 have your patience a few moments longer, while I 
 adduce some Scripture evidences that the Holy Ghost 
 is God. Jehovah, in Isaiah, commands the Prophet 
 to go to the people, and utter certain words, and Paul 
 speaks of the same commission as given to Esaias, by 
 the Holy Ghost. Jeremia!i, represents Jehovah as 
 resolving to make a new covenant with Israel, and in 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews, this resolution is attributed 
 to the Holy Ghost, as though the names were synoni- 
 mous. The Apostle Peter, condemned Ananias for 
 lying to the Holy Ghost; and, immediately to show 
 the heinousness of the offence, tells him he had " lied 
 unto God." In both the Epistles to the Corinthians, 
 Christians are styled the temples of God, because the 
 Spirit of God dwells in them. The Holy Spirit is 
 said to have been active in the creation; to have 
 moved upon the face of the water ; to have garnished 
 the heavens, and to have given life to man. As well 
 as the Father, and the Son, he received divine honours. 
 All the attributes of the Divine Essence are spoken of, 
 as belonging to the Holy Ghost. He is Omniscient, 
 for he searcheth all things, leadeth into all truth, and
 
 108 ON TRINITY SOMDAY. 
 
 is- the Spirit of Wisdom and revelation. He is Omni- 
 present, for God is said to dwell in us by his Spirit, 
 and the Psalmist inquires, uhither he should i;o from 
 the Holy Spirit. He is Omnipotent. "All these," 
 says St. Paul, " worketh that one, and the self same 
 Spirit, dividing to every one severally, as he will." He 
 is Eternal. He existed before the worlds, and abideth 
 for ever. In short, the Scriptures attribute all the 
 insignia to the Holy Ghost, by vvhicli tiie Supreme 
 God is ever, and alone, distinguished. Thus, it is 
 evident, that such as the Father is, such is the Soa. 
 and such is the Holy Ghost, and, consequenUy, that 
 the Persons of the Holy Trinity are co-equal aiid cO' 
 existent. 
 
 That the texts which have been adduced arc not 
 corruptions, is evident from a comparison of the vari- 
 ous versions of the IS^ew Testament which exist. That 
 they are not misunderstood, is morally c(Mtain, from 
 their being thus construed by all the primitive Chris- 
 tians, even those who had conversed with the Apostles, 
 and from their being alwa3's thus explained by the 
 Church, till the human mind was made the test of 
 divine truths. 
 
 We have now seen, tliat the Divine Essence, or the 
 Godhead, is One; that in this Unity of Essence, there 
 is a Trinity of Persons, and that these Persons are 
 co-equal, each being "very God." This is the doc- 
 trine of the Bible. This is the doctrine held undis- 
 turbed by the Ciiurch for the lirst three centuries, from 
 the establishment of Christianity. Tiie enemies of 
 the catholic faith evince, by their contradictions,* its 
 foundation in the gospel, for Sabellius and Socinus 
 were so convinced of the divinity of the Si)irit, that 
 they made him the same person with the Father; and 
 Arius, and Macedonius, were so satisfied with the 
 distinction of the Persons of tise Three, that they con- 
 sidered the Word and Spirit as Kiere creatures. Had 
 it not been for the pride of man's hearty for his desire
 
 ON TRIMTY SUNDAV. 109 
 
 to unveil the secrets of heaven, and to measure divine 
 truths by finite faculties, this great mystery of our 
 religion, might have escaped the attack of its foes, 
 and, resting ujion the evidences which prove the 
 authenticity of our religion, might have commanded 
 the humble belief of every disciple of Christ. It is, 
 perhaps, an unpleasant feature of modern divinity, 
 that the prevalent desire of sinii)lifying Christianity, 
 has given birth to many, who would cut this mystery 
 because they cannot solve it; and as the Bishop of 
 Connecticut* has expressed it, " take from their Re- 
 deemer his eternal power and Godhead." Let us, 
 my friends, learn from what has been said, to " hold 
 fast the form of sound words," and " the faith once 
 delivered to the Saints." That we cannot conceive, 
 how the three are one substance, and yet distinct Per- 
 sons, should not shake our faith, for we are equally as 
 unable to conceive, how the soul, mind, and body 
 constitute one man; or how natural causes produce 
 their consequences, or even how we think, believe, or 
 reject. Convinced, that the doctrine of the Trinity is 
 the doctrine of the Bible, we siiould not listen to 
 " vain babblings," but the language of our hearts 
 should be, " yea, let God be true, and every man a 
 liar." 
 
 Now to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy 
 Ghost, three Persons and one God, be ascribed the 
 kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. 
 
 "* Bishop Seabury.
 
 SERMON LV. 
 
 ON THE FESTIVAL OF ST. MICHAEL AND 
 ALL ANGELS. 
 
 Hebrews, i. 14. 
 
 Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to 7ninisT 
 terfor them ivho shall be heirs of salvation? 
 
 E have just risen, my brethren, from acknowledg- 
 ing before God, that he hath " constituted the services 
 of angels and men, in a wonderful order." And, 
 indeed, it is worthy of praise, in the economy of our 
 Church, that while she celebrates, regularly, the mys- 
 teries of our religion, and commemorates the actions 
 and character of the Apostles, and distinguished disci- 
 ples of our Lord, she reminds us, annually, of our 
 connection with the higher orders of intelligences, 
 and leads us to contemplate, whatever the Scnpture^i
 
 'ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. Ill 
 
 have revealed, concerning the angels of God. On this 
 festal day, which happily combines the joys of the 
 Sabbath, with the pleasures which may spring from 
 contemplating what knowledge we have of these 
 heavenly hosts, we shall make them the theme of our 
 discourse ; endeavouring to show you, 
 
 In the first place, that these exalted Beings, denomi- 
 nated Angels, do exist : 
 
 Secondly, that they take an interest, and have an 
 influence, in the affairs of this visible world; and, 
 
 Thirdly, that the doctrine concerning them, affords 
 many inferences, conducive to our comfort and reli- 
 gious improvement. 
 
 That there are higher orders of intelligent beings 
 than man, has been, with common consent, believed ia 
 all ages. The Demons of the ancients, a name which 
 they used in a good, as well as bad sense, were many 
 of them supposed never to have inhabited material 
 bodies; and answer exactly, to the powers of heaven, 
 which, by us, are styled Angels. The very name, 
 Angels, does sometimes occur in ancient heathen wri- 
 tings; and the beings whom it designates, are known 
 to the oldest Poets, and introduced into the discourses 
 of almost all the Philosophers. Plato, styles them 
 " reporters and carriers from men to the gods, and 
 from tlic gods to men ; and Apuleius has this remark- 
 able expression, " all things are done by the will, 
 power, and authority of the gods, but, withal, by the 
 service and ministry of the Demons," or Angels. 
 These notions, are the common notions of mankind, 
 found among them in every age, more or less definite, 
 according to their situation and means of refinement. 
 
 And, indeed, when we consider the vast extent of 
 die universe; when we observe the splendid, and 
 richly furnished parts of it, which we behold above us, 
 and, on imagination's wings, pass the limits of sense, 
 and contemplate the unbounded space, over which the 
 everlasting God presides, it can hardly seem probable.
 
 il2 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 that this little globe, this spot which we inhabit, is the 
 only part of his great domain, which he has seen fit to 
 people. Below us, we see a beautiful gradation of 
 creatures, from that, in which solitary sensation first 
 awakes, to a being, who thinks, and reasons, and 
 knows his God. That this tliinking being, man, is the 
 most perfect intellectual creature in the universe ; that 
 there is a vast, a tiresome, an awful chasm between 
 him and the great Creator, improved reason does not 
 readily admit. Analogy suggests, and the suggestion 
 comports much more easily with our ideas of the wis- 
 dom, power, and g.oodness of God, that man is the 
 link, which connects the material, with the intellectual 
 world; and that there arc above us, gradations of 
 beings, equally regular, and infinitely more grand, than 
 those, which we behold below us. 
 
 It must, however, be confessed, that these deduc- 
 tions are not obvious to the ca[)acities of the mass of 
 mankind. Their common consent upon a subject, not 
 cognizable, without a miracle, by their senses, has, 
 probably, been derived by tradition from revelations and 
 manifestations, made to the parents of the race, in the 
 happy morning of the world. I am the more confirmed 
 in this oi)inion by the fact, that in tiie Scriptures, the 
 existence of Angels is no more made a new revelation, 
 than the existence of God. Both are presumed to have 
 been before understood. When the appearance of an 
 Angel is first mentioned in the sacred volume, no prepa- 
 ratory information is given concerning him. The reader 
 is not supposed to be surprised; nor does the writer 
 appear to apprehend, any necessity of explaining his 
 nature or office. He is mentioned, as one of an order 
 of beings, with whose existence mankind were already 
 acquainted. It is, therefore, highly probable, that this 
 was among the communications, which the Almighty 
 made to man, in the earliest age of the world; and 
 that, like many other communications, it was both 
 preserved <md corrupted by passing through the pol-
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 113 
 
 luted channels of tradition, among the successive gene- 
 rations of men. 
 
 But, be this as it may, in us, who possess the holy 
 records of truth, there can be no doubt of the exist- 
 ence of angelic beings. " The hosts of heaven," and 
 " the angels of God," are spoken of in every part of 
 Scripture. Wc are taught, that they are numerous, 
 for we read of " an innumerable company of Angels;" 
 of " legions," that might be dispatched to the service 
 of Christ; and of the holy myriads of their hosts. In 
 the order of nature, they are superior to man; for he 
 is said to be " made lower than the Angels." They 
 are eminently wise, and good, and incapable of decay; 
 for he, who has much wisdom or goodness, and they 
 who shall die no more, are compared, in the language 
 of inspiration, to " the angels which are in heaven." 
 They are endowed with superior force and vigour, for 
 they arc styled " mighty," and "swift" angels; and 
 the Psalmist extols them as " excelling in strength." 
 We may believe that, they are of different grades, and 
 that in every grade there are subordinations, for we 
 hear of Michael, one of the "princes;" of " Cheru- 
 bim" and "Seraphim;" of "Angels" and "Arch- 
 angels;" of "thrones and dominions; principalities 
 and powers;" and of "seven" distinguished "spirits 
 of God." They are accountable beings ; for those 
 " who kept not their first estate, are reserved in chains 
 of darkness unto the day of judgement to be punished." 
 In their office, the Angels wait upon the Almighty. 
 Wherever he holds his court, they attend him ; consti- 
 tuting his august retinue, his magnificent train. Cho- 
 sen bands of them surround him, displaying his glory, 
 whenever he vouchsafes to give a visible manifestation 
 of his presence. In the high and lofty abode, in which 
 he everlastingly dwells, " tJiousand thousands" of 
 them, minister unto him, and " ten thousand times ten 
 thousand stand before him." 
 
 VOL. ir. 15
 
 114 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 We see, then, from tradition, from the reasonable- 
 ness of the thing, and from what the Scriptures con- 
 tain, the certainty of the existence of Angels. It 
 becomes now, an interesting inquiry, whether these 
 exalted beings, have any knowledge of what is trans- 
 acted on our earth ; or take any interest in the affairs 
 of men. And, perhaps, we shall be surprised to find, 
 how great concern the Angels of God have, with this 
 terrestrial world. 
 
 That they know, and observe, what is done among 
 men, is indisputable. St. Paul says, expressly, that 
 " we are a spectacle unto angels;" and we are taught, 
 that " unto the principalities and powers in heavenly 
 places, is made known by the Church the manifold 
 wisdom of God." 
 
 But they not only know, they take a lively interest 
 in, whatever is done in this sublunary part of their 
 Maker's dominion. In that memorable commence- 
 ment of a new epoch in the universe, when the corner 
 stone of this earth was laid, and the creation of its 
 inhabitants accomplished, " the morning stars," the 
 hosts of heaven, sang together, " and all the sons of 
 God," the elder offspring of the Most High, " shouted 
 for joy." These pure and benevolent sjiirits, rejoiced 
 in the creation of our world, which would enlarge the 
 theatre of the Almighty's glory, and multiply the 
 beings, who would taste his beneficence, and adore his 
 name. When, therefore, the earth came from his 
 hands, and its inhabitants were formed, and pro- 
 nounced good, their voices resounded through the 
 arches of heaven, celebrating the creature's happiness, 
 and the Creator's praise. 
 
 There has been another memorable occasion, on 
 which the Angels manifested the lively interest, which 
 they take in the affairs of men. It was at the incar- 
 nation of the Son of God. Tliis was, indeed, the 
 commencement of a new creation. A race of intelli- 
 gent beings, who had fallen, were now to be ransomed
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 115 
 
 from destruction. The foundation was now laid, of " a 
 new heavens and a new earth," in which would finally 
 dwell righteousness, and all its concomitant bliss. 
 When, therefore, the Saviour was born, an Angel re- 
 joiced to be the herald of the news, to the sons of men : 
 and a multitude of the heavenly hosts, obtained permis- 
 sion to accompany him on the delightful errand. Scarce- 
 ly had the messenger delivered his tidings of joy, when 
 there burst from the bosoms of these exalted spirits, an 
 anthem, which echoed through the " temple not made 
 with hands," bearing glory to the Author of this great 
 salvation, and gratulations to the objects of it. It is 
 not, however, on these great occasions oidy, that the 
 Angels have been interested in sublunary events. 
 They are always made glad, by the happiness of any 
 of the offspring of their king, and by the accomplish- 
 ment of his will, in any part of his kingdom. Into 
 the gracious scheme, devised for the recovery of our 
 race, they, with affectionate concern, " desire to look;" 
 and, whenever it is successful, in reclaiming an un- 
 happy wanderer from the error of his ways, " to the 
 wisdom of the just," they feel the joy, rejoicing, we 
 are told, in the presence of God, " over one sinner that 
 repenteth." 
 
 But, I have to observe further, that as the Angels do 
 know, and take an interest in the affairs of our world, 
 so they have a considerable care, and influence over it. 
 Not, that the Almighty needs their aid. He is able, 
 by his own inherent power, to accomplish with a word, 
 all the purposes of his will. But, in his wisdom, he 
 sees fit to employ the creatures he has made; partly, 
 no doubt, that they may adorn the creation by doing 
 him service, and be capable of the pleasures and re- 
 wards of fidelity. Accordingly, the Angels are often 
 made the instruments of his providence; and have 
 their offices towards the human race. This, was im- 
 pressively revealed to the sorrowful Patriarch at 
 Bethel, in that wonderful vision, which was there
 
 IIG ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 vouchsafed to him, of a ladder reaching from earth to 
 heaven, with " the angels of God ascending and de- 
 scending upon it." The wandering Jacob learnt from 
 it, what every wandering pilgrim upon earth may 
 learn, that these hosts of God are constantly employed, 
 in the protection and service of his faithful creatures. 
 I shall pass over the opinion, entertained by the Jews, 
 and current, sometimes in a disguised form, among the 
 heathens, that every nation is the peculiar province of 
 some tutelary Angel. Nor shall I dwell upon the 
 sentiment, which the opinion of Socrates has con- 
 spired, with the feelings of men, to render striking 
 and interesting, that every individual is the charge of 
 some particular spirit, who is the guardian of his con- 
 duct and fortunes. Upon these points, I apprehend, 
 men must be left to their own judgements; since reve- 
 lation furnishes no absolute, unequivocal instructions, 
 concerning them. What I am chiefly anxious to state, 
 and my text presses upon your observation, is, that 
 good men have the regard and services of the Angels 
 of heaven. Upon this subject, the Scriptures arc 
 exi)licit. The hosts of God are beautifully repre- 
 sented in them, as " encamping around the dwellings 
 of the jiibt." Tiic Almighty is said to "give his 
 Angels charge over" the upright, " to keep them in all 
 their ways." And, if we need a declaration, i^lainer 
 than these, we have one, in the words which 1 have 
 placed at the head of this discourse, as unecpiivocal as 
 language can express; "Are they not all ministering 
 spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be 
 heirs of salvation." 
 
 Tiie way, in which these holy spirits extend their 
 services to men, is generally imperceptible. They did, 
 indeed, visibly withstand the perverseness of Balaam. 
 They did sensibly protect Lot, and reward his i)urity 
 and piety. And in the days of his temptation, and of 
 liis agony, they were sent to " minister" unto Christ. 
 But, generally, and for very apparent reasons, their
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 117 
 
 " succour and defence" is not obvious to the senses. 
 We know not, how many of our spiritual enemies 
 they may oppose and vanquish. We are ignorant, 
 from how many unseen dangers, they may preserve 
 us. But this wo are assured, that the sincere disciples 
 of Jesus, however low and obscure their lot, are con- 
 stantly the charge of Angels, " who behold the face of 
 his Father in heaven." Hence we may infer, that 
 they render them many and great services. The 
 Almighty " rides upon the Cherubim" to their help. 
 He makoth the Angels his chariots, when he visits 
 them with his mercies. It is probable, that in the 
 final scene of this probationary life, when the souls of 
 men need all the support, which heaven and earth can 
 give, that these blessed ministers of light redouble 
 their symi)athy and succour. We may gather from 
 one of the parables of our Lord, that they wait about 
 the death beds of the just, to conduct the departing 
 spirit " to Abraham's bosom ;" and from what is 
 recorded by St. Jude, of the care of Michael over the 
 body of Moses, we may safely suppose, that even that 
 dust of the righteous is not viewed by them with indif- 
 ference, which, through the promises of the Almighty, 
 "rests in hope." These spirits, we know, will be 
 active agents, in the morning of the resurrection. 
 When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, his 
 holy angels will come with him. He will send them 
 " to gather his elect from the uttermost i)art of the 
 earth, to the uttermost part of heaven." They are the 
 reapers, who, in the time of the harvest, will separate 
 the chaff from the wheat; and gather the latter into 
 the garner of God. 
 
 Such, is the doctrine of the Scriptures concerning 
 Angels. But it may be asked, Of what use is this 
 doctrine to us? I answer; of very great use. It 
 affords many inferences, highly conducive to our com- 
 fort, and religious improvement.
 
 1 18 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL AiNGLLe. 
 
 For, ill the first place, it extends our knowledge ot 
 the greatness of our God. Consider, that these my- 
 riads of exalted intelligences, derive their being from 
 Him. He " calleth them all by their names." They 
 are daily upheld in (existence by his power. They are 
 all under his control; subservient to his will: ready in 
 all parts of his universe to " do his pleasure.*' How 
 great is He who made, sustains, and rules them all ! 
 Verily, when we return from our contemplation of this 
 part of his dominion, to our own little earth, and sur- 
 vey what is done visibly beneath the sun, we may 
 exclaim with Job, " Lo, these are parts of his ways, 
 but how little a portion is heard of him." 
 
 Again. The subject we have contemplated, ma) 
 increase our admiration of the goodness of God. 
 What infinite benevolence is that, M'hich for the diffu- 
 sion of hapi)iness, has so multiplied the orders of 
 being! How incalculably great is the sum of bliss, 
 which, flowing perpetually from the Deity's right 
 hand, causes these countless hosts of exalted creatures, 
 to rejoice in the existence, which they have received of 
 the Most High! And how great is his mercy and 
 goodness to us -men, that he hath given his Angels 
 charge over us; that he hath sent forth these great 
 and glorious spirits, to ministiM- unto us. " Bless the 
 Lord, O, our souls, and all that is within us, bless his 
 holy name!*' 
 
 Further. This doctrine we have been considering, 
 fiirnisiies a powerful inducement to integrity, purity, 
 and circumspection, in all the walks, and all the acts 
 of life. ^Vliat greater restraint, can we have upon our 
 conduct, than the knowledge of the presence and 
 observation of these ministers of heaven! Thou, who 
 art quiet in thy sins; thou who wrappest about thee 
 the mantle of secres}^, and under it art guilty of false- 
 hood and fraud; thou who rejoicest in the darkness 
 of night, and givest thyself to the indulgence of thy 
 lusts, to the iierpctration of thy crimes, consider, llo^\
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 119 
 
 great, and how many, are the spectators of thy ini- 
 quity. What witnesses are these, which the Almighty 
 will produce in the awful day of judgement, not only 
 of thy " presumptuous sins," but of thy most " secret 
 faults!" In the persons of his Angels, as well as in 
 his own Omnipresence, " he is about thy path, and 
 about thy bed, and spieth out all thy ways." And if 
 thou wouldest not be put to confusion and shame, 
 when the inhabitants of heaven and earth shall be 
 present at thy judgement, be pure, be honest, be cir- 
 cumspect in thy whole demeanor. Let the Angels 
 have nothing to testify concerning thee, but good deeds 
 done without ostentation, and virtues, cherished in the 
 most private recesses, as well as in the more open 
 walks, of thy life. 
 
 Once more. Our subject affords a powerful encou- 
 ragement to the heirs of salvation. Arduous is the 
 conilict, in which the Christian is engaged. " We 
 wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against prin- 
 cipalities, against powers, against the rulers of the 
 darkness of tins world, against spiritual wickedness in 
 high places." But for our encouragement, we are 
 informed, that Michael and his Angels have overcome 
 the dragon and his angels. When our Lord had long 
 resisted the temptations of the adversary, behold, 
 these blessed spirits " came and ministered unto him." 
 And in the affecting scene in the garden, at the tre- 
 mendous hour of the power of darkness, when the 
 "agony" of Christ had risen to the highest pitch of • 
 human distress, there appeared unto him " an Angel 
 from heaven strengthening him." These things were 
 done for our instruction. Whether we contemplate 
 the forces, or the personal excellence of the " Captain 
 of our salvation," we may animate ourselves with the 
 persuasion, that " greater is he who is with us, than 
 they who are against us." The angels are enlisted on 
 ihe side of the Church. I-et us hold them fast, by the
 
 120 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 Strength which we have in Christ Jesus; and they will 
 not go, until they bless us. 
 
 Finally. I would adduce from what has been 
 said, a special motive to sincerity and reverence, in 
 our religious worship. It has already been observed 
 to you, that wherever the Deity is particularly present, 
 it is with the retinue of his Angels. This Avas emi- 
 nently the case in the Jewish temple. And the gospel 
 favours the opinion, that it is so in the places of Chris- 
 tian worship, in Avhich God receives the homage of 
 his redeemed creatures. In the earliest ages of the 
 Church, before man had exalted himself above all 
 created intclligcnts, this sentiment was carefully che- 
 rished. " Hear thou me," says one of the most elo- 
 quent of tJie fathers, *' hear thou me, and know, that 
 Angels are every where ; and that chiefly in the house 
 of God they attend ui)on their king." " Doubt not," 
 says another of these i)rimitive discii)les of our Lord, 
 " that an Angel is present when Christ is ofl'ered." 
 And again, says the holy Clnysostom, " when the 
 Eucharist is celebrated, the Angels stand l)y the Priest, 
 and the whole quire resounds with celestial powers, 
 and the place about the altar is iillcd with them, in 
 honour of Him, who is laid thereon." What sobriety 
 should these considerations beget in us, when we 
 come into God's house. How powerfully do they 
 enforce that decency in worshij), which the Ai)ostlL'. 
 recommends "because of the Augcls." Especially, with 
 A\hat pure hearts and clean hands, with what reve- 
 rence and godly fear, should we come to the holy 
 table. Consider with whom you there stand; who 
 are the spectators of your conduct; yea, ^\ho are the 
 associates of your devotion, when you " laud and 
 magnify God's glorious name!"' This will not iail 
 to inspire you with reverence. It will enable you to 
 serve God acceptably, at his altar, in his house, and 
 throughout your lives: you will secure the succour of
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 121 
 
 the heavenly hosts, in the hour of danger and dis- 
 tress; and they will guide the horses of heaven, when 
 they come to translate your spirits to the regions of 
 bliss. 
 
 qp^ 
 
 VOL. H. 16
 
 SERMON LVL 
 
 -QO©- 
 
 ON THE FESTIVAL OF ALL SALNTS. 
 
 RETELATI05S, vii. 9. 13 — f&. 
 
 After this J beheld, ami, lo, a qveat multitude, which no 
 man could number, ofcdl nations, and kindreds, and 
 people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and be- 
 fore the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms 
 in their hands. And one of the elderfi answered, sai/- 
 ing unto me, What are these which are arrayed in 
 ivhite robes, and whence came they? And I said 
 iinto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me^ 
 These are they which came out of great tribulation, 
 and have washed their robes, and made them ivhite in 
 the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before 
 the throne of God, and serve him day and night in 
 his temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall 
 dwell among them. They shall hunger no more,
 
 ON ALL SAINTS. 123 
 
 neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light 
 on them^ nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in 
 the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall 
 lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God 
 shall tvipe away all tears from their eyes. 
 
 -EAVEN, and the occupations of those who have 
 passed the boundaries of our sight, and entered upon 
 its glorious scenes, are objects in the highest degree 
 interesting to the contemplative mind. Thither have 
 gone the Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles and Martyrs, 
 whose instructions we value, and whose memories we 
 revere. There rest, we trust, the spirits of the Chris- 
 tian friends, whom we shall see here no more. Thither 
 ascended the Great Benefactor, whose merits and, 
 favour, aro our choicest treasure. And there, we ex- 
 pect, when this vain world shall vanish, to find the 
 consummation of our faith and hopes, our virtue and 
 joy. On these accounts, the region and employments 
 of the blest, will generally excite in the serious, a 
 lively curiosity. If it be chastened with a sense of the 
 feebleness of our powers, and a submission to the 
 wisdom of God, this curiosity is laudable; and when 
 we think of the worthy characters wlio are gone from 
 this state, can hardly be expressed. 
 
 As the festival of All Saints, which recalls our at- 
 tention to the labours and rewards of the departed 
 servants of the Most High, coincides, to-day, with the 
 Sabbath, we may, with peculiar propriety, make it the 
 object of the present discourse. Upon this sublime 
 subject, I know no better guide for your meditations, 
 than that vision of the Church triumphant of which 
 the text is a conspicuous part. It will furnish us, with 
 as just ideas of the situation and blessedness of the 
 "Saints, as our finite and encumbered minds can re- 
 ceive, and will lead to reflections adapted to the sea- 
 son, and to the circumstance*: of many of my hearer^.
 
 124 ON ALL SAINTS. 
 
 And, in the first place, it is pleasing to observe, 
 that the Saints are *' a great multitude of all nations, 
 and kindreds, and people, and tongues." Every bene- 
 volent mind, which has any concern for the welfare 
 of his fellow beings, any gratitude to the Redeemer, 
 and any just conception of the glory that shall be 
 revealed, must be ardently desirous that, the partakers 
 of the heavenly gift, should not be few in number. 
 The good man puts up no prayer more earnest and 
 sincere, than " that it may please God to have mercy 
 upon all men." To know how many shall have man- 
 sions in the Father's house, is not however permitted 
 us. We are taught, by the reply which Christ once 
 made to the inquiry, that it is not our present business. 
 The way is clearly defined, in which we may secure 
 to ourselves, the happiness of being of the number, and 
 to rejoice our philanthropy, and delight us with the 
 triumphs of our Lord, we are assured that, his redemp- 
 tion shall not be an unfruitful work, but that, through 
 it, there shall be many sons brought unto glorj'. In 
 their high state of bliss, the Saints want not the re- 
 fined pleasure, of having many to enjoy with them, 
 their delightful existence. The worthy of every past 
 age, are collected into their " goodly company." The 
 faithful of every future generation, shall swell their 
 numbers and their joy. For John, in his vision, " be- 
 held, and, lo, a great multitude which no man could 
 number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and 
 tongues, stood before the throne, and before the 
 Lamb." And a greater than John, even the Lamb 
 himself, has assured us that " they shall come from the 
 east, and from the west, from the north, and from the 
 south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God." 
 
 In unfolding the scenes of heavenly vision, the 
 sacred writers are obliged, by the poverty of human 
 language, and the confined state of our minds, to bor- 
 row analogies from this visible world, and represent 
 things which surpass our comprehension, by those
 
 ON ALL SAINTS. 125 
 
 things with which we are familiarly acquainted. 
 Hence, the introduction of the sublime and interesting 
 scenery, which charms our minds, as we pass from the 
 number of the Saints, to the description which the 
 Evangelist has given us, of their condition. They 
 stand " before the throne," and " before the Lamb, 
 clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands." 
 White, is the emblem of innocence. Spotless purity 
 enters into the very idea of it. And, by association, 
 the spirits that are arrayed in perfect righteousness, 
 and celestial glory, are beautifully imagined to be 
 clothed with garments of white. Of such lustrous 
 perfection our nature is destitute. Its best robes are 
 sullied and torn. Unfit they would be for man to 
 wear, in the pure presence, and august court of the 
 Most High. But the ransomed of the Lord are vested 
 in his righteousness. They " have washed their robes 
 and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 
 Their spirits are made perfect. They have exclianged 
 a nature feeble in its best services, and defiled with 
 many frailties and sins, for a nature, which vice can- 
 not approach, nor infirmity disgrace; which, like its 
 Avthor, is glorious in holiness, and divinely happy in 
 the consciousness of its glory. With their improved 
 being, the honours of triumphant merit are also theirs. 
 [n tliis world, the faithful servants of God, have often 
 arduous and perilous conflicts. Some, have " resisted 
 unto blood, striving against sin," and have sealed the 
 value of a good conscience, by sacrificing their lives 
 in defence of the truth. Many, have struggled hard 
 with temptation, with adversity, with the injustice, 
 perverseness, and ingratitude of an evil world. But 
 sorrows break down t\\e hearts of others. AH en- 
 counter dismaying foes in the king of terrors, and his 
 numerous emissaries. But their reward is with the 
 Lord. When the conflict ends, and their course is 
 iinishcd, they reap the fruit of their toil. They are 
 ackjiowledged victorious-, and rejoice in the recom
 
 126 ON ALL SAINTS. 
 
 pense of their fidelity, in the presence of the celestial 
 world. They now share the triumphs of their Master. 
 The token, long consecrated to victory, is given them 
 for ever. While they walk " in white robes," they 
 have " palms in their hands." 
 
 What a view does this description afford us, of the 
 condition of the Saints in their exaltation. Ye, who 
 have tasted the pleasures which spring from the con- 
 sciousness of virtue, and know the vexations of a frail 
 nature, imagine the bliss ol their complacence in being 
 divested of every moral debility, and clad in a pure and 
 immutable righteousness. Ye, who have known the 
 conflicts of virtue, in the day of trial, and can estimate 
 by your fears, the precious value of safety, judge ye, 
 with what rapture they felicitate tliemselves, and each 
 other, on their escape from deatli, and the contagion 
 of this world; the triumphs of their integrity, and 
 their security from any future liazard of their reward. 
 They are happy, in the review of the dangers they 
 have past. They rejoice, in the robes with which 
 they are clothed, and in the palms, which they have 
 in their hands. For the former, qualifies them for the 
 presence and service of tlic King of Heaven, and the 
 latter, are the emblems of their eternal victory, over 
 temptation and affliction, persecution and death. 
 
 This leads us to a more particular notice of the 
 situation and employment, to which the faithful, who 
 have quitted this earthly residence, are advanced. And 
 here, what a flood of glory, from the station they 
 occupy, overwhelms the astonished mind. They 
 are "before the throne of God, and serve him day 
 and night in his temi)lc; and He that sitteth upon 
 the throne, shall dwell among them." To give us 
 an impressive idea of their admission to his loftiest 
 abode, and of the ease and freedom with which 
 they sustain his glorious presence, they are represent- 
 ed as living before his throne. It is that throne, 
 from which he observes the conduct of all creatures:
 
 ON ALL SAINTS. 127 
 
 yet are they not dismayed, but filled with love. It is 
 that throne, on which he lightens with his arm, and 
 thunders with his voice, and displays the terribleness 
 of his judgements. But the terror of these attributes, 
 is softened to them by the intervention of " the Lamb 
 that is in the midst of the throne," and, amidst the 
 awful grandeur of the scene, they peacefully admire 
 and adore. To teach us the purity, and holiness of 
 the region and occupations, to which they are exalted, 
 his temple is named as the place, in which they con- 
 stantly serve him. It is that temple, in which his 
 immediate presence rests for ever, and where " the 
 angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven," 
 render him their homage, and receive his commands. 
 In what part of the wide unknown, this resort of the 
 blessed lies, it is unnecessary for us to know. We are 
 much more instructed by the assurance, that " He 
 who sitteth on the throne, shall dwell among them." 
 Wherever he abides, there is a throne ; his presence 
 makes a temple. As an affectionate father, God is 
 among his Saints, directing their affairs, supplying 
 their wants, receiving their homage, and repaying it 
 with his smiles. They live in the light of his coun- 
 tenance. Intimately, and unceasingly they contem- 
 plate, his adorable perfections. They find a heaven, 
 in the consciousness of his favour ; and the work of a 
 heaven, in serving him day and night. 
 
 To form an accurate sentiment of the happiness, 
 which must arise from the vision and fruition of the 
 Deity, is not in the power of our carnal minds. Our 
 endeavours to follow the spirits of the just into their 
 blessedness, in the bosom of God, are vain as the 
 attempt to pursue the flight of the eagle towards the 
 luminary of day. With ease, we may trace his remote 
 approaches to the lofty orb, but he is soon lost in the 
 distance between the sun and us, or hidden in the vast 
 effulgence of its beams. Some faint ideas of the 
 nature of their joy, we may, however, collect from
 
 128 ON ALL SAINTS. 
 
 what passes in our own bosoms- The coutemplatioii 
 of moral excellence, even in a finite being, excites a 
 pure and exquisite pleasure in the virtuous mind. \Vc 
 Jove the man, with a most generous affection, in 
 whom are the amiable virtues unmixed with guile ; 
 and while we muse, admiring his worth, our own 
 hearts glow with tlic spirit of his goodness. The 
 ])leasure is greater, the nearer our knowledge of his 
 character. Our delight is unbounded, if he is our 
 friend. How great, then, must be tiie felicity of con- 
 templating, with unveiled eyes, the wisdom, and 
 beauty, and goodness, of the source of all perfection, 
 with the assurance of his love towards us, as his 
 selected friends. 
 
 Again. Though now we see him not, the hope 
 that his providence is extended over us, is life's choic- 
 est consolation. He is our final reliance. Our hearts 
 find perfect satisfaction, no where but in him. Wealth, 
 fame, and pleasure, fills not man's desires. On the 
 eminences to which they raise him, he feels a void, 
 and is restless. But the knowledge of God, and con- 
 sciousness of his favour, is a satisfactory bliss. This, 
 even here on earth, give peace and content, to the vir- 
 tuous inhabitant of life's humblest vale. How great, 
 then, must be their gladness ; what can be wanting to 
 render their satisfaction complete, who live under his 
 immediate protection and smile, receive his actual 
 approbation, and have him for their portion for ever. 
 If, at this wide distance from him, the pious mind is 
 soothed and sublimed, by its humble devotion to the 
 invisible God, and, by its remote communion with 
 him, catches, like the countenance of Moses, a gleam 
 of his glory, what must be the composure and dignity 
 of bosoms, how must they be changed into his glory, 
 who dwell in the radiance of his perfections, and 
 worship him face to face ! 
 
 It must not escape observation, that there is nothing 
 to interrupt, or terminate this happiness, of the beati-
 
 ON ALL SAINTS. 129 
 
 Bed servants of the Most High. They have no care 
 of providing food for a perishable body, nor occasion 
 to labour with perplexity and anguish, for an unsatis- 
 factory wealth. No weight of affliction causes their 
 spirits to faint ; no restless desires, nor impetuous pas- 
 sions, disturb their tranquillity; no concern for thfe 
 future, restrains them from the enjoyment of present 
 bliss. The tears which were here caused to flow, by 
 death's cruel ravages, or uumerited wrong, by stern 
 "adversity, or keen repentance, at^ wiped tenderly from 
 every eye, by the hand of God. The occasion of 
 these griefs have no more operation. Onae landed on 
 the celestial Ararat, the terrors and the dangers of 
 the flood are over. The scenes of sorrow and anguish, 
 darkness and dismay, give place to brighter prospects, 
 and enlivening sunshine. And an eternal bow about 
 the throne, assures them that, the bitterness of death 
 is past, and God in covenant with them for their per- 
 petual preservation. 
 
 Such, is the blessedness of those happy spirits, who 
 have departed this life, in the true faith and fear; so 
 great is their reward in heaven. The utmost stretch 
 of our conceptions will not reach their felicity. They 
 are " before the throne of God." 
 
 But, in this glorious condition, and exalted station, 
 how are the spirits of the blest employed ? No toil 
 makes repose necessary, no feebleness requires it, and, 
 therefore, no part of their existence is lost in sleep. 
 Night and day they serve their Maker in his temple. 
 In doing his will, in celebrating his greatness, in ad- 
 miring his works, in imitating his lovcj in joining with 
 the angelic hosts, to ofler perpetual praises to their 
 common Lord, they spend their existence. They have 
 HO fatiguing duty, nor unwelcome business. The^^ 
 are disencumbered of wants and cares. " The Lamb 
 who is in the midst of the throne," is perpetually lead- 
 ing them to the unsatiating pleasures of his Father's 
 house, to fountains of life, of light, and of evfery ele^ 
 
 yoL. iL 1?
 
 130 ON ALL SAINTS, 
 
 vated pleasure. To receive perpetually the smites of 
 the Highest, is their daily business; and their chief 
 occupation, to praise his name. 
 
 To this glorious company, my brethren, these de- 
 parted friends have assuredly gone, tvhose Christian 
 excellencies we remember with delight. How great, 
 then, that happiness, upon which they entered, when 
 we bemoaned their departure with om- tears. What dis- 
 regard of their interest and pleasure, to wish them 
 back to this vain, and fluctuating scene. Let us, 
 rather, learn to adore the goodness of the Being, who 
 provided a way of bringing the object of our love, to 
 such a state of exaltation and bliss. Wo are wont to 
 esteem those, who esteem our friends, and feel grateful 
 to those, who merely wish them prosperity. How, 
 then, are the bonds of our obligation to the Most Higli 
 strengthened, what incense of gratitude should per- 
 petually rise to Him from our hearts, whose goodness, 
 hath brought them, when their allotment here was 
 ended, into the delightful inheritance of the children 
 of God. There cannot, mcthinks, be a more sacred 
 claim upon our love, or more powerful incitement to 
 our obedience. 
 
 Again. With this august body of Saint*, we, n\y 
 brethren, though we sojourn on eartli, are closely con- 
 nected. In the mystical body of our Lord, we have a 
 communion with them. Their Head, is ours. Their 
 objects, and their pleasures, are those which we pur- 
 sue. The seal of their redemption, is that in which 
 we trust; the subject which swells their celestial Hal- 
 lelujahs, we celebrate in the sacramental supper. And 
 the Being, by whom they arc brought intD glory, 
 ascended also, we trust, to prepare a place for us. 
 " Now, therefore," says the Apostle, " ye are no more 
 strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the 
 Saints, and of the household of God." In this high 
 connectioHj beloved, let us walk with becoming dig- 
 nity, purity, and circumspection. Let us listen to the
 
 ON ALL SAINTS. 131 
 
 Temoiisirances against vice ; let us obey the iHcitements 
 to every religious and social duty; let us indulge the 
 noble and important resolutions, which will arise in 
 the bosom of every ingenuous person, who sincerely 
 considers himself as related, by his Christian privi- 
 leges, " to the general assembly and Church of the 
 first born;" and " to the spirits of just men made per- 
 fect," and to Jesus the Mediator, " and to God the 
 Judge of all." 
 
 Which leads me to remark, lastly, that the glorious 
 rewards which the Saints possess, may also be won by 
 our fidelity. *' In the Father's house are many man- 
 sions," and he who comes to him through his Son 
 " he will in no wise cast out." And is there any inte- 
 rest, which it so much behoves us to secure, as this? 
 For what that this earth can proffer, and our most 
 successful exertions obtain, shall we relinquish such 
 inestimable and eternal bliss? Let us, rather, give all 
 diligence, to make our calling and election sure." Are 
 we beset with temptations? Does the Most High 
 seem to frown onus in sore chastisements? Is the 
 "spirit willing, but the flesh weak?" Be not dis- 
 mayed, In like manner were the Saints tried, who 
 have conquered and are crowned. Let us take their 
 live^ for our ensamples, and, in the uniform use of the 
 means of grace, with eyes fixed on the hopes of glory, 
 pursue the path in which they journeyed, " whoj 
 
 hrough faith and patience, have inherited the pro- 
 
 raises.'
 
 SERMON LVU. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 Acts, ix. 19— 21. 
 
 Then was Saul certain dai/s with the disciples whicli 
 were at Damascus. And straightway he preached 
 Christ in the si/nagogucs, that he is the Son of God. 
 But all that heard him icere amazed, and said; Is 
 not this he that destroyed them which called on this 
 name? 
 
 Among the characters which the gospel history 
 presents to us, St. Paul holds a conspicuous place. 
 Perhaps, to none of the Apostles is the Christian 
 world more indebted, and none of them exhibits a life 
 more wonderful and instructive. Brought to the faith 
 of Christ, by an extraordinary conversion; employed 
 in the most arduous and important services,- raised to
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 133 
 
 visions surpassing the powers of human description ; a 
 son of sorrow, and a martyr for revealed truth ; there 
 are few persons, whose lives are more fraught with 
 the interesting, or have stronger claims to our conside- 
 ration. 
 
 The conversion of this great Christian hero, is, 
 this day, commemorated in the Church. It will, 
 therefore, be a proper, and, with the divine blessing, a 
 useful employment of our minds, to attend to the 
 principal points of his history, and to the reflections 
 which they suggest. Of you all, my brethren, let me 
 bespeak a patient and a candid hearing. It is a sub- 
 ject full of instruction for every mind. But, in an 
 especial manner, if there be in this assembly a man, 
 who is not yet satisfied concerning the truth of our 
 holy religion, him, I am anxious to interest. Would 
 to God, I could fill him with candor, and chain his 
 attention to my theme. For unless all laws of reason- 
 ing are arbitrary, and all grounds of evidence falla- 
 cious, he cannot rise from the faithful contemplation 
 of the argument, which is founded upon the life of St.- 
 Paul, without confessing of Christ Jesus, " that he is 
 the Son of God." 
 
 Saul, or Paul, for by both names he is called, was, 
 as he himself informs us, a native of Tarsus, in Cilicia. 
 This town, famous for its trade, and its literature, is 
 supposed, by many, to have been honoured, likewise, 
 with municipal distinctions, for its adherence to some 
 Roman emperor. If it were not so, the father of our 
 Apostle, must have obtained the freedom of Rome by 
 merit, or by purchase ; for it must be remembered, as 
 furnishing an instructive instance of the providence of 
 God, that Paul was born a Jew, but, at the same time,, 
 an heir to the privileges of a Roman citizen. 
 
 His education was liberal. Favoured by nature 
 with strong and active powers, and brought up in one 
 of the most celebrated schools in Jerusalem, "at the 
 feet of Gamaliel," he united genius with great ac-
 
 1S4 UN THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 quirements. His speeches, and the Epistles which 
 have come down to us bearing his name, display, 
 equally, the force of his mind, and his acquaintance 
 with the literature of his day. Had he not, after the 
 glorious realities of the gospel were unfolded to his 
 view, counted all his human acquirements " but dung, 
 that he might win Christ,'' we should be induced to 
 remark, in honour of the man, that the most illustrious 
 masters of reasoning and rhetoric, Locke and Longi- 
 nus, have bestowed on him the meed of their praise. 
 
 As might have been expected, the pride of earthly 
 wisdom, and the vanity of Jewish prejudice, unfitted 
 him for the reception of Christ and his doctrines. On 
 the contrary, they qualified him to l)e an instrument 
 for the opposers of Christianity; and, aided by the 
 natural impetuosity of his temi)er, rendered him tln^ 
 assiduous, and unweaiied persecutor, of its Author 
 and its advocates. None of the foes to Jesus and his 
 disciples, was more known and dreaded. Every 
 where his fame was spread, as the implacable adver* 
 sary of the sect. Without regard to age or sex; 
 without restraint to time or place, we find him deriding 
 the disciples of the Lord, and dragging them to prison 
 and to torture; and when the first martyr, the amiable 
 Stephen, was stoned, tliis zealous enemy to the Chris- 
 tian faith, " consented to his death," and kept the 
 garments of those who executed the horrid deed. It 
 must, however, be observed, for he tells us that, on 
 this account, he obtained mercy, that in his animosity 
 towards the followers of the Redeemer, he was actu- 
 ated by a zeal, which he thought holy, and by a con- 
 cirn for the religion, and honour of his nation, which 
 he thought right. He was a mistaken, not a careless, 
 nor a vicious man. There are those, alas! who, in 
 deriding and opposing the Author of our faith, are 
 impelled only by their levity. Still worse, there are 
 those, who, without regard for any religion, or zeal 
 for any thing good, would destroy the authority an<i
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OP ST. PAUL. 135 
 
 influence of the gospel, to quiet themselves in their 
 sins, and to accomplish their base purposes in the 
 world. For such, the pious bosom will tremble. 
 Tliough mercy was found for the honest, yet mistaken 
 Paul, can they expect, that profane levity and deter- 
 mined profligacy, will find an apology at the bar of 
 God ? No ; never. These, I am awfully afraid, are 
 " vessels of wrath fitted for destruction." 
 
 But, to return to our subject; "breathing out threat- 
 enings and slaughter," Saul is hastening to Damascus, 
 with authority from the High Priest to take, without 
 distinction, the abettors of Christianity, and " bring 
 them bound to Jerusalem." As he journeys, with a 
 considerable company, behold, " at midday, a light 
 from heaven surpassing the sun in brightness," shines 
 suddenly upon them and strikes them to the earth. It 
 is, probably, the Shechinah ; the manifestation of the 
 Divine Presence. A voice, tenible and inarticulate as 
 thunder to his companions, but distinct and intelligible 
 to Paul, calls to him from the inexpressible glory, 
 " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Tremblings 
 and astonished, he inquires, "Who art thou Lord? 
 And the Lord said, I am Jesus, whom thou persecut- 
 est." " But rise, and stand upon thy feet ; for I have 
 appeared unto thee for this puri^ose, to make thee a 
 minister and a witness of these things which thou hast 
 seen, and of those things in the which I will appear 
 unto thee." As one, who suddenly sto])s on a preci- 
 pice, api)alled at the danger into which impetuosity 
 had hurried him, Paul stands amazed and dismayed. 
 The manifestation of the Redeemer is irresistible; and 
 he, who had hitherto been solicitous how he might 
 most efiectually injure h?s cause, now calls to him, in 
 the voice of suppliant obedience, " Lord, what wilt 
 thou have me to do?" Made blind by the brightness^ 
 of the glory which appeared, he was led by his com- 
 panions into the city, which was at hand; where, for 
 <hree days, overwhelmed, doubtlesfs, with sorrow for
 
 136 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAlTL* 
 
 the error into which he had fallen, he devoted himself 
 entirely to fasting and prayer. Upon this, for the con- 
 firmation of his faith, and comfort of his spirit, ano- 
 ther miracle was wrought upon him. His sight was 
 instantly restored to him by a Minister of the Redee- 
 mer, who also received him into the Church by bap- 
 tism, and instructed him in the work unto which he 
 was designed. " Then was Saul certain days with 
 the disciples, which were at Damascus; and straight- 
 way he preached Christ ia the synagogues, that he is 
 the Son of God." 
 
 As the wonderful conversion of this Apostle, is a 
 great evidence of the truth of our religion, and on it, 
 rests the validity of his important testimonies, it de- 
 serves our particular examination. Now, St. Paul 
 must be supposed to have been, cither honest or dis- 
 honest, in this matter. From the character he had 
 supported before his conversion ; from his appeal to 
 his adversaries, that from his youth "he had lived in all 
 good conscience before God;" from the face of his 
 writings and conduct; yea, from his zeal for the reli- 
 gion and tradition of his fathers, candour should infer 
 that, he was a conscientious man. While, on the 
 otiier hand, there is notliing on which we may reason- 
 ably found, the least sus|)icion of his veracity. What 
 motives were there to induce a person of his character 
 and prospects, to attempt to inijiose such a fraud upon 
 the world? Were the adherents to the cause of 
 Christ, able to proffer any inducements, sufficient to 
 win this renowned character to their party? Theirs, 
 alas! was the cause of poverty, of trouble, and of 
 persecution ; and he their persecutor, well knew the 
 miseries to which the followers of the Nazarene would 
 be exposed. Were there any prospects, witii which 
 he could have induced himself to practise this decep- 
 tion upon mankind? If he believed, that Jesus Christ 
 was an impostor, and had expired, for ever, on the 
 rross, his good sense could not but iiavc iij/errcd, that
 
 OtJ THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 137 
 
 his religion, which renounced the aid of the wisdom, 
 wealth, and power of this world, would presently 
 come to nought, and his knowledge of the feelings of 
 his nation, and of the incredulity of mankind, must 
 have assured him that, nothing could be more hopeless, 
 than the fate of the advocates of such a cause. 
 Without prospect of any thing, but implacable enmity 
 from those he left, and disgrace and trouble with those 
 he joined ; without the least reasonable expectation of 
 wealth, honour, power, or success ; what could have 
 induced this sensible, and intherto upright man, to re- 
 linquish the religion of his fathers, which he had highly 
 and zealously prized, for a religion, which he belie- 
 ved to be false; a religion, which he had detested and 
 persecuted; a religion, to which he would be obliged 
 to sacrifice his honours, his connections, his comforts, 
 the advantages of his birth, and education, his liopc of 
 the favour of his God, and, in all probability, his life? 
 Surely, there is not the least ground, upon which we 
 can doubt, that St. Paul was sincere in his profession, 
 honest in what he related. If his integrity, whose 
 whole life was conformable to his princii)les, may be 
 tailed in question, I see not what evidence there can 
 be of any man's veracity; I know not in whose testi- 
 mony we can ever confide. 
 
 But, if St. Paul were honest, either the wonders 
 which produced his conversion were real, or he must, 
 himself, have becu deceived. Now, there arc but 
 three ways, in which his deception could have been 
 possible; by the artifice of evil spirits, by human im- 
 position, or by the enthusiasm or delirium of his own 
 mind. There are few, if any, who can suppose it the 
 artifice of evil spirits. Whatever may be their power, 
 we may be perfectly assured, that they never exercise 
 it in favour of a system of the purest piety and morals; 
 a system, whose leading aim is the destruction of their 
 influence among mankind, and whose precepts in- 
 culcate truth and goodne.ss. Was there, then, a delu- 
 
 vor,. If. 18
 
 138 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 sion practised upon the Apostle by human beings? h 
 is impossible to conceive, in what way any impostor, or 
 , set of impostors, could have produced a scene like that 
 which took place in the road to Damascus. And if 
 we should imagine a show, any way similar to it, to 
 have been wrought by imposture, could we believe, 
 that such an one as Paul, would have been its dupe; 
 that Paul, who was distinguished for penetration and 
 strength of mind; that Paul, whose character was 
 decision, and who carried in his bosom a contempt of 
 the Person whom the miracle aimed to magnify; that 
 Paul, who was an acute logician, a good philosopher, 
 and a keen detector of the artifices of men ; that Paul, 
 who, at the very time of the occurrence, was impetu- 
 ously bent upon destroying the religion of Jesus, and 
 distressing his followers? Recur we, then, to the last 
 su|)position. Could a delusion have been occasioned 
 by enthusiasm, or delirium, in his own mind? Enthu- 
 siasm, generally acts in favour of something dear to it. 
 Its usual course is, to warm itself with repeated views 
 of its darling object. It raises, by the a])plication of 
 its own heat to its own opinions, possibilities to proba- 
 bilities; and these, to certainties. It delights to form, 
 and to catch at the most airy ideas, whicli favour its 
 expectations and designs. But, to make one leave, at 
 once, his foudest opinions; to draw him instantane- 
 ously from tenets dear and sacred, to principles long 
 esteemed false and odious; and this, too, by miracles 
 imagined to be wrought against itself; these are not 
 the operations of enthusiasm or superstition. Nor can 
 a delirium be assigned as the cause of the Apostle's 
 impressions; for it must be imputed to his companions, 
 as well as to him; no inconsiderable number, we may 
 presume, from the nature of their errand; it must be 
 imputed, too, to Ananias, who was supcrnaturally 
 informed of the vision which Paul had seen, notwith- 
 standing the dignity and reasonableness of liis conduct, 
 and. the good report he had both of Christians ami
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 139 
 
 Jews; it must be imputed to the Apostle during his 
 subsequent life ; and conceived to have been always 
 consistent, to have enabled him with conspicuous 
 wisdom to adapt means to their ends ; to have raised 
 him to a sublime elevation of piety and virtue ; and to 
 have qualified him to produce speeches, and writings, 
 which, for strength ()f reasoning, and force of elo- 
 quence, vie with the most finished productions of 
 human ingenuity. This, methinks, were a delirium 
 approaching very near to the standard of exalted rea- 
 son; having very much of the character of truth and 
 soberness. The sui)position, that the Aix)stle was, 
 himself, deceived, is, in every shape of it, attended 
 with so many, and insuperable difficulties, that " an 
 evil heart of unbelief" must pervert our own faculties, 
 before we can admit it a moment, as an explanation of 
 his conversion. What now remains? We must ac- 
 knowledge the reality of the wonderful manifestation 
 of the Redeemer, or betake ourselves to the last, the 
 miserable subterfuge, that the whole story is a fabrica- 
 tion, and that no such person as St. Paul, ever ex- 
 isted. 
 
 This subterfuge, should any resort to it, will be 
 found as untenable as it is bold. For what reason 
 have we to doubt the existence of St. Paul, more than 
 the existence of any celebrated character of antiquity? 
 W^e believe that Homer and Virgil, that Alexander and 
 Ceesar, that Socrates and Cicero, lived in the ages 
 in which they are said to have lived. On what is this 
 belief founded ? On the testimony of historians ; and 
 the possession of works bearing their names, which 
 have been attributed to them by all their posterity. 
 This is a reasonable and sufficient ground of belief. 
 The nature of the case admits of no other. Now we 
 have minute accounts of St. Paul, in a contemporary, 
 and innumerable historians ; and we have many and 
 various writings bearing his name, which have been 
 acknowledged as his, in every age, from the time of
 
 140 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 his life to the present day. Such, too, is the nature 
 of these writings, that they carry in themselves, evi- 
 dence of their auilicnticity. Do we doubt, that there 
 were Christian Churches, in Rome, in Corinth, and in 
 Ephesus? But, while these Churches were in being, 
 could Epistles have been sjiread abroad, as addressed 
 to them, which they had never received? Or could 
 they have received Epistles from St. Paul, referring to 
 visits made them, to uondcrs wrought among them, 
 and to instructions given ihcm, if St. Paul hod never 
 been? Yet, such Epistles are quoted as his, by many 
 writers in the first centuries; and have been preserved 
 as a part of canonical Scripture, in all ages of the 
 Church. We have, too, records of his testimony, as 
 ancient as his day ; and vestiges of his labours pre- 
 served by tradition, in many regions which were 
 blessed with his visits. When, therefore, we are 
 ready to renounce all conlidence in the writings, and 
 all belief in the existence, of the distinguished charac- 
 ters of antiquity ; when we are willing to set all histo- 
 rical evidence at dc/iance, and to quit the only ground 
 upon which we can have any knowledge of the trans- 
 actions in the ages Ijcfore us, then may we doubt the 
 authenticity of the story of St. Paul, and the genuine- 
 ness of his writings. But, till then, I see no alterna- 
 tive remaining, which a reasonable man can take, but 
 to confess the reality of the vi^on, \\hich converted 
 this great Apostle to Christianity. 
 
 There is, indeed, in this miraculous event, as if 
 designed by Cod, a remarkable combination of rea- 
 sons, which substantiate its credibility. There is no 
 other ground upon which we can, with any plausibility, 
 account for the Apostle's conduct. It is a kind of 
 miracle, which no one, who believes in a Deity, will 
 say was imj)ossible, nor upon the supposition of the 
 truth of Christianity, will any one say, it was unneces- 
 sary. The end appears worthy of the eftbrt; and 
 both the effort and end worthy of tiie Almighty. The
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 141 
 
 circumstances which attended the event, were such as 
 would have facilitated detection if it were false, and 
 the consequences of it were such, as might be expect- 
 ed, if it were true. But I am particularly anxious to 
 remark, and to dwell upon the remark, that the sub- 
 sequent life and conduct of St. Paul, are the best 
 evidences of the truth, and sincerity of his conversion. 
 They were exactly, and in all respects such, as we 
 should suppose would be produced by an occurrence, 
 so extraordinary and solemn, so impressive and conscr. 
 quential. 
 
 His great favour and interest, with the rulers and 
 chief priests of his nation; his high pretensions to 
 unblamableness in the righteousness of the law; his 
 pride in his acquirements of human wisdom and ac- 
 complishments; the honours of his station and his 
 flattering prospects in the world, he cheerfully re- 
 nounced them all. As the youth, who is raised to the 
 views and expectations of manhood, abandons the toys 
 and si)orts of his boyish days, so these no longer ena- 
 mour the Apostle, now that the salvation which is in 
 Jesus, is disclosed to his view. How hard is it to 
 forego the charms of honour, of science, and of life's 
 flattering distiactions! AVhat can reconcile men to 
 these self-denials, but an abiding conviction of the 
 reference of his life to another, and a lively faith in 
 the unspeakable joys of the future! To him, indeed, 
 who has tasted " the excellence of the knowledge of 
 Christ," and known the power of the world to come ; 
 to hrm, to whom the Son of God stands revealed as a 
 Saviour, death, as an entrance upon an eternal exist- 
 ence, and heaven, as the reward of the faithful; to 
 him, indeed, in the calm estimate of reflection, every 
 thing else must appear of little value. In renouncing, 
 therefore, the distinctions, pleasures, and designs of 
 this world, and devoting himself, wholly, to the attain- 
 ment of the " prize of the high calling of God in 
 Christ Jesus," St. Paul has given a noble evidence.
 
 142 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PALL. 
 
 that th£ scene on his wa)' to Damascus, was a clear 
 and satisfactory manifestation to him, of the ascended 
 Saviour, whom he had persecuted. 
 
 Soon after his enlistment under the banners of the 
 gospel, we find him wasing his jMastcr's warfare with 
 courage, skill, and determination. To his own coun- 
 trymen, who had witnessed his outrages upon the fol- 
 lowers of the JMe^ssiah, he first, with undaunted confi- 
 dence, declared his faith in him; proving to them from 
 Moses and the Propheis, that Christ must needs 
 suffer and die ; and that this Jesus, whom they had 
 crucified, was very Christ. But he was taught by 
 the Lord, that it should be his office to carry the tid- 
 ings of salvation to the Gentile world. This was a 
 task, to undertake which, re(iuircd more than human 
 enterprise and philanthropy; to accomi)lish which, 
 required a patience, perseverance, intrepidity and ex- 
 emplariness, which could be furnished only from 
 above. In this vast and important work, St. Paul 
 "laboured more abundantly than alT' his brethren. 
 They took to themselves, generally, some province, or 
 part of a country, where, with iiious diligence, they 
 inculcated and spread, the truths of revelation. But 
 the measure of his cares, w as the extent of the human 
 race; the bounds of his labours, were the limits of the 
 world. Memory, and the time, would fail me, should 
 1 attempt to recount to you, his travels and exertions. 
 Borne, now, on the wings of Christian zeal, and actu- 
 ated by the spirit of Christian love, he seems to have 
 carried the glad tidings of redemption, into almost 
 every region, from the distant recesses of the East, to 
 the utmost Islalids of the West. Nor were his sor- 
 rows less, than his labours. Was he in Ephesus, or 
 journeying to Spain; was he bound to Rome, or 
 w ould he go to Jerusalem ; in e\ ery place, " the Holy 
 Ghost witnessed, that bonds and afflictions would 
 abide him." " But none of these things moved him; 
 neither counted he his life dear unto himself; that he
 
 I 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ^T. P4I1L. 143 
 
 might finish his course "vvith joy, and the ministry 
 which he had received of the Lord Jesus." It would 
 seem by the plain, yet pathetic summary of his suffer- 
 ings, that for the proof of his faith, and the perfecting 
 of his character, adversity was permitted to bring him 
 all her cups to taste; and of each one, which he tasted, 
 compelled him to repeat the draught: " In labours 
 more abundant ; in stripes above measure ; in prisons 
 more frequent; in deaths oft; of the Jews, five times 
 received I forty stripes save one; thrice was I beaten 
 with rods; once was I stoned; thrice I suffered ship- 
 wreck; a night and a day I have been in the deep; in 
 journeyings often; in perils of waters; in perils of 
 robbers; in perils by mine own countrymen; in perils 
 by the heathen; in perils in the city; in perils in the 
 wilderness; in perils in the sea; in perils among false 
 brethren; in weariness and painfulness; in watchings 
 often; in hunger aiul thirst; in fastings often; in cold 
 and in nakedness; besides those things which are 
 without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of 
 all the Churches." 
 
 Thus, from the day of his conversion, passed the 
 life of this once proud, and implacable foe to Christi- 
 anity, in humility and faith; in travels and labours; in 
 affliction; charity; and continual exertions for the 
 success of the gospel. Like the sun, he stood not 
 still; but constantly diffused, uiK)n some dark region 
 or other, the glorious light with which he, himself, 
 was illumined. And like the sun, his lustre was more 
 lovely, and his diligence seemed to increase, as he 
 verged towards the evening of life, and hastened to 
 set. Afllictions "uhich damp most men's perseve- 
 rance, renovated his. Age, which brings others re- 
 pose, called forth his noblest energies. And the ap- 
 proach of death, which sobers every mind, filled him 
 with exultance. '' 1 am now ready to be offered, and 
 the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought 
 a good fight: I have iinished my course: I have kept
 
 144 ON THE THARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 
 
 the faith : Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown 
 of righteousness, which God, the righteous Judge, 
 shall give me at that day." 
 
 In the reign of Nero, ready, if the w ill of God 
 should be so, to give his life a sacrifice to his faith, he 
 returned to Rome. There, his success in governing, 
 with St. Peter, and extending the Church, drew on 
 him the hatred and persecution of a corrupt govern- 
 ment; and in the sixty-eighth year of his age, by the 
 command of the monster, lo whom the Church owes 
 the blood of many of its martyrs, and fallen nature a 
 new disgrace, this champion of Christianity, expired 
 on a scaffold ! 
 
 His successors in the ministry, have a rich legacy 
 in the example he has left them, of pastoral fidelity 
 and judicious zeal. To all the disciples of the Re- 
 deemer, his writings arc a treasure of divine wisdom, 
 of inestimable value. In his defence before Agrippa, 
 his discourse upon the resurrection, and several parts 
 of his Epistles, the man of taste may be delighted, 
 while the Christian is edified. But it is particularly 
 to the unbeliever, that his life presents the most im- 
 portant instruction. For the change of his oi)inion, 
 his extraordinary labours, virtues and successes; the 
 willingness with which lie encountered the fatigues 
 and sufferings of his ministry, and the readiness with 
 which he scaled his testimony with his blood, it is 
 impossible to assign any other ade(niate cause, than 
 that hg had received satisfactory, and irresistible evi- 
 dence, that the gospel he had persecuted, was a reve- 
 lation from God. When I contemplate the conversion 
 of this Apostle, in all its circumstances and conse- 
 quences, I am ready to believe that, the Most High, in 
 condescension to the weakness of faith in the children 
 of men, has vouchsafed to give them an evidence, of 
 the authority of his Son, which should be unexcep- 
 tionable and irresistible. It is a pillar of our faith, 
 which levity may attempt to soil, and sophistry may
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 145 
 
 endeavour to mar; but, like the pillars in the eternal 
 temple of Jehovah, it shall stand for ever; upheld by 
 truth, and admired, both in its strength and beauty, of 
 all them that believe? 
 
 VOL. n. /&
 
 SERMON LVIIL 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE 
 BAPTIST. 
 
 St. Matthew, si. 11. 
 
 Verih/ I say unto you, among them that are born of 
 women, there hath not risen a greater than John the 
 Baptist. 
 
 HAT an encomium is here, upon that renowned 
 person and distinguished saint, whose nativity, the 
 Church, this day, commemorates; an encomium, too, 
 from the mouth of the highest, and most perfect dis- 
 cerner of characters, the Eternal Son of God. It will 
 not be amiss, my brethren, but very pertinent and 
 commendable, to turn our attention to the life of the 
 man, upon whom our blessed Lord hath bestowed 
 such honourable expression of his respects, and ap-
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 147 
 
 probation. A character, which Christ commends, can 
 never be studied without advantage. 
 
 The course, which our thoughts will most naturally 
 take, is, to inquire in what the Baptist was so remark- 
 able, as to have merited and obtained such discrimina- 
 ting praise. 
 
 And, in the first place, he was peculiarly remarka- 
 ble in his birth, and office. There is a striking and 
 beautiful analogy, in all the works of God. Great, 
 and remote events, are typified in those which arc 
 immediate, and of less magnitude; and his spiritual 
 economy, is frequently illustrated in the arrangements 
 of his material world. When the sun approaches to 
 scatter the darkness of night, and cheer and invigorate 
 creation with his beams, he is preceded by the morning 
 star ushering him in with its fainter dawn. In like 
 manner, when the more glorious " Sun of Righteous- 
 ness" was about to rise upon our benighted world, the 
 Most High ordained, that an harbinger should go be- 
 fore him " to prepare his way," and announce his 
 coming. It was reserved for a pious pair, who were 
 both righteous before God, " walking in all the com- 
 mandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless," to 
 be assured by an angel sent from God, that they should 
 give birth to the person who should execute this extra- 
 ordinary oflice. The Prophets had predicted his ap- 
 pearance and character, as the herald of Messiah the 
 Prince; and in the spirit and life, and even attire of the 
 good Elijah, this herald had been typified. At the ap- 
 pointed time, contrary to the expectation and hopes 
 of nature, Zacharias and Elizabeth were blessed with 
 this wonderful child, filled with the Holy Ghost from 
 the womb; so much like Elijah as by many to be 
 taken for him, and so precisely at the period, when 
 the Jews were expecting the promised deliverer, that 
 some supposed he was, indeed, the Christ. Consid- 
 ered as the forerunner of our Lord, there is something 
 in him peculiarly interesting, and entitled to approprt-
 
 148 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 
 ate respect. We admire the exact fulfilment of pro- 
 phecies, and striking accomplishment of types; and 
 cannot wonder that Gabriel declared to the amazed 
 Zacharias, " Thou shalt have joy and gladness, and 
 many shall rejoice at his birth." 
 
 Having noticed his peculiar ofiice, and the circum- 
 stances of his birth, we jiroceed to observe that, St. 
 John was eminently distinguished by his piety and 
 humility. There is an intimate and nice relation, 
 between all the virtues and duties of life. This, is 
 is very observable in piety and humility. They can 
 hardly subsist apart. The maji cannot be pious, who 
 is not humble; and seldom is he adorned with humi- 
 lity, who is not pious. They generate each other in 
 the heart. In the life of the Baptist, there is such a 
 display of these conjoined graces, as exhibits him at 
 no ordinary point of moral elevation. When our 
 blessed Lord presented himself a candidate for his 
 baptism, an occasion which would have elated and 
 flattered many a teacher of righteousness, his unassu- 
 ming modesty, and holy reverence for the Redeemer, 
 form a most lovely picture. " I have need to be baf)- 
 tised of thee, and comest thou to me ?" Astonished 
 at the singularity of his appearance and doctrines, the 
 Jews mused in their hearts, whether lie were not the 
 Christ, and sent messengers to ask him the question. 
 Had he been impious, here was oi)portunity to arro- 
 gate to himself divine honours. Had he been ambi- 
 tious, here was an occasion to have placed himself at 
 the head of his nation. But, equally to be admired 
 for his diffidence of himself and his devotion to his 
 Lord, he replied, " There cometh one after me, might- 
 ier than I, the latchet of whose shoes, I am unworthy 
 to unloose." But why do I adduce particuhir in- 
 stances? His whole life was one continued exhibition 
 of self-denial, and religious devotion. For him, the 
 plauditsof fame and the trophies of power, had no 
 charms. In him, " soft raiment" and delicate life.
 
 UN THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 149 
 
 excited no covetous desires. In the plain, coarse g;arb 
 of the penitent; sequestered iVoui the haunts of pride 
 and pleasure, he held the holy tenor of his way : 
 
 " The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, 
 His food the fruits, his drink the crjstal well. 
 Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days, 
 Prayer all his business; all his pleasure, praise." 
 
 Deep must have been his sense of sin ; strong his 
 principles of sobriety ; great his love of God, who could 
 retire from all the voluptuousness of life, to the wil- 
 derness of Judea; and content himself for sustenance, 
 with " locusts and wild honey." In his public ministry, 
 he evidenced the motives of his austerity. " Repent, 
 for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," was the sub- 
 stance of all his discourses. 
 
 But I haste to observe, that the Baptist did not live 
 for himself alone. His austerity did not degenerate 
 into a mere concern for his own salvation. In his 
 devotion to God, he did not forget, that he owed mucii 
 to his fellow beings. For he was not more distin- 
 guished by the properties which have already been 
 mentioned, than by his zeal for the propagation of 
 truth, and the welfare of his countrymen. What do I 
 see! "Jerusalem, and all Judea, and all the region 
 round about Jordan," are flocking to him to be " bap- 
 tised, confessing their sins." The amiable man lias 
 been amongst them as their friend, declaring and 
 reproving their vices, and warning them of the aj)- 
 proach of Messiah, with rich blessings for thos<; who 
 would receive him, and awful judgements for his ene- 
 mies. It was a dissolute, as well as an important 
 I)eriod with the Jewish nation. Now, was the fulfil- 
 ment of the promise to their fathers at hand; the 
 advent of " the consolation of Israel ;" the incarnation 
 of the Son of God. But they were absorbed in the 
 expectation of a temporal prince, and the desires cf
 
 160 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 
 worldly felicity ; and immersed in all the vices and 
 Iiypocricies to which such views of religion and life 
 ever give birth. St. John beheld them with regret. 
 He was bold and anxious in his reproofs. And it was 
 concern for his country, as well as fidelity to the Lord, 
 which induced him to assume an unequalled austerity 
 of life; that he might influence them by his example, 
 as well as his instructions, " to bring forth fruits meet 
 for repentance." How great and good does he appear, 
 in this view of him! How commendable is every 
 man, who thus sorrows for the \ ic» s, and is solicitous 
 for the welfare, of his fellow beings! And, let it be 
 observed, in passing, that a true roi^nrd for the happi- 
 ness of our countrymen, and the human race, is ever 
 connected with a regard for their religious and moral 
 improvement. The schemes are fanciful and falla- 
 cious, which would separate civil, from moral im- 
 provement; temi)oral, from religious happiness. I'n- 
 fortunate Jews! Ye are a solemn monument of the 
 truth of this observation. Happy had it been for you, 
 had ye listeneil to the pious Baptist, as the harbinger 
 of Christ, and received the Messiah whom he pointed 
 out and preached. But they were carried away with 
 schemes of their own aggrandisement; they preferred 
 to be led by their ambitious and jealous rulers. And 
 when the Saviour " came to his own, his own received 
 him not." They sulfered, alas! in the destruction of 
 their city, and polity, the just judgement of God upon 
 their pcrvcrseness; and continue, to this day, every 
 where, a distinct, and no where, an established people. 
 Hasten, great God, the promised time, when thou wilt 
 gather them with thine arms, and bring them to thy 
 (lock, and we all be happy in " one fold, under one 
 s,hepherd," Jesus Christ! 
 
 But to return; we observe, in the last place, that 
 the Baptist was eminently remarkable for his dignified 
 resolution, and manly constancy, in the cause of right- 
 eousness. He was not, as our Saviour happily ex-
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OP 9T. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 161 
 
 pressed it, in his ironical questions to the multitude 
 concerning John, " a reed shaken with the wind.'* 
 He was the avowed advocate, and determined profes- 
 sor, of virtue. Never was a more steady, and un- 
 daunted adherence to principle, exemplified by man. 
 Not the sneers and scoffmgs of the profane ; not the 
 influences of fashion ; not the frowns nor the smiles of 
 the great, could bend this prodigy of rectitude, from 
 the path of duty. He was amongst " a crooked gene- 
 ration." He stood before a corrupt court. But 
 neither flattery nor threats, could bring him to a truce 
 with vice. Into the bosom of Herod himself, he car- 
 ried his reproofs. The adulteries and iniquities of 
 this profligate Tetrarch, he dared to reprehend ; and, 
 in the cause of virtue finally shed his blood. Herod, 
 to the black catalogue of his crimes, added this, above 
 all, that he cast John into prison, and in an hour of 
 intemperance and rashness, at the instigation of the 
 lewd woman, with whom he lived in the basest inti- 
 macy, commanded the holy man to be beheaded. 
 TJius, in an age when sincerity was wonderful, and 
 virtue was singular, did the good Baptist constantly 
 speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and patiently suf- 
 fer for the truth's sake. 
 
 When we review his extraordinary birth and office; 
 his unequalled piety and humility; his noble concern 
 for truth, and the happiness of his countrymen ; and 
 his dignified resolution and manly constancy, even 
 unto death, in the cause of righteousness, we see a 
 rare example of excellence, and feel the truth of our 
 Lord's declaration, that " among those who are bora 
 of women, there hath not risen a greater than John 
 the Baptist." 
 
 A few observations, pertinent to this subject, sug- 
 gest themselves to close this discourse. 
 
 We are not called, I conceive, my Christian friends, 
 to exercise all the austerity which the Baptist prac- 
 tised. Our divine exemplar, the blessed Redeem.ei;s
 
 152 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 
 hath remarked, that, " John the Baptist came neither 
 eating bread, nor drinking wine," and that he, himself, 
 was "come eating and drinking;" hereby teaching us 
 that, his '' kingdom" consisteth not in " meats and 
 drinks, but in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost." But tl)ore is a measure of self-denial, 
 salutary to the growth of goodness, and which, as 
 Christians, we are bound to practise. Wliatever is 
 vain in the pomjjs of the world ; whatever is covetous 
 in its pursuits; whatever is sinful in the desires of the 
 flesh, we renounced at our baptism ; and if we would 
 preserve our interest in Christ, are solemnly obligated 
 to fulfd our vows. While, therefore, we enjoy all 
 that we can innocently enjoy, and guard against a 
 selfish sequestered pursuit only, of our own salvation, 
 we are to remember that " the world's infectious," and 
 that Jesus hath said of his disciples, " they are not of 
 the world." 
 
 Again. We may learn from what has been said, 
 how certainly respect attends integrity. Though his 
 manners had not received the polish of refinement, and 
 the people were very depraved, among whom he lived, 
 the Scriptures assure us, that all men reverenced 
 John. There is sometliing so great, so elevated, in 
 the character whom Jiothing can cause to swerve from 
 principle and duty, that the mind is forced to approve, 
 the heart is compelled to respect. Even the vicious 
 are conscious of inferiority; and, under the veil of 
 profligacy, carry a secret, uncoiKpierable reverence, 
 for the good man. Herod, the debauched, heedless 
 Herod, w ho had only to speak and the Baptist should 
 be put out of life, could not suppress in his bosom, 
 that awe of his virtue, which such resolute integrity 
 never fails to excite. His base paramour had, before 
 the fatal hour, sought to kill the reprover of her vices, 
 but could not; for, says the historian, *' Herod feared 
 John, knowing that he was a just man and a holy." 
 ( .ould a more striking evidence of the majesty of virtue
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 153 
 
 be adduced? It is an instructive lesson to us all, but 
 est)ecially so to my young friends, who are yet forming 
 the character of their lives. You will find enough of 
 your own age, and, indeed, of an age that should set 
 you better examples, ridiculing the principles of right- 
 eousness, and spurning at the restraints of duty. But 
 be assured, my young friends, there is an innate supe- 
 riority in virtue, which the most profane and profli- 
 gate, do secretly reverence, and from which they 
 would decoy you, for no other reason, but because, 
 superior excellence is always irksome to corrupt minds. 
 Be induced, with manly resolution, to build your clia- 
 ractersof the godlike principles of truth and rectitude: 
 and you will find that, with regard to the esteem of 
 your fellow men, as well as in other inii)ortant res- 
 pects, the maxim of the wise man is strictly true, " he 
 that walketh ui)rightly, walkoth surely.'' 
 
 Finally. To the honourable encomium, which 
 raised John to a level w ith the greatest " who are 
 born of women," our blessed Lord hath added this 
 remark, "nevertheless, he that is least in the kingdom 
 of Ciod, is greater than he;" greater in the measure of 
 revelation bestowed upon us; greater in the relation 
 which we are adopted to bear to God anil his Christ; 
 greater in the truths with which we are impressed; 
 they being the fulfilment of what he understood only, 
 as to come ; and greater in the promise of the Father, 
 to raise us to be " Kings and Priests" unto him in his 
 eternal kingdom. How thankful, then, should we be, 
 for our Christian vocation. With w hat sobriety, and 
 self-respect, should we walk through this i)robalion- 
 ary life. Let us endeavour, by a bright exhibition of 
 the Christian excellencies, to indicate the dawn of the 
 days of righteousness and peace. Let us all be anx- 
 ious, " so to prepare and make ready the way" of our 
 Lord, " by turning the hearts of tiie disobedient," 
 through the influence of our example, " to the wisdom 
 of the just, that at his second coming, to judge the 
 
 VOL. u. 20
 
 154 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 
 world, we may be found acceptable in his sight," and 
 be taken by him, to enjoy, with St. John the Baptist, 
 and all the Prophets; with the Apostles and all the 
 Martyrs; and with all the "spirits of the just made 
 perfect," that glorious rest, which, through his merits, 
 is reserved in heaven for the people of God.
 
 SERMON LIX. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 St. Matthew, xvi. 17. 
 
 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art 
 thou, Simo7i Bar-jona; for flesh and blood hath not 
 revealed it unto thee, hut my Father which is in 
 heaven. 
 
 J. O contemplate the characters, "whose names and 
 conduct the divine Spirit has rescued from oblivion, is 
 an employment obligatory upon the Christian, pleasant 
 and instructive. Their lives were recorded, purposely, 
 for the perusal and benefit of mankind. The diver- 
 sity of incident, the view of our own nature in various 
 interesting shapes, and the improving lessons which 
 they impress on the heart, amuse, while we consider, 
 and carry us interested through the hallowed tales.
 
 156 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 Among the characters who appear in the gosjiel 
 history, Peter holds a conspicuous place. Peter, first 
 of Apostles, all-powerful in preaching and in miracles, 
 reverenced by Romanists as the Church's head, noblest 
 in confessing, frailest in denying the Lord. His life, 
 together with St. Paul's, furnish the principal mate- 
 rials of which the Acts of the Apostles are composed ; 
 and his Epistles, form a valuable part of canonical 
 Scripture. Richly fraught witli lessons for us all, is 
 the history of this Christian hero. And as the day, 
 set apart by our Church in honour of his memory, 
 falls, in this year, witli the weekly solemnity, there 
 cannot be a more pertinent, and, with the divine bles- 
 sing, we may find it a very profitable, subject for our 
 present meditations. To trace the leading incidents 
 of his life; to mark the iiromiiiciit features of his 
 character; to gather the reflections \Nhich invite obser- 
 vation; these, be our labours; and to profit, alike by 
 his virtues and his frailties; this, be the consecration 
 of our work. 
 
 Of the parentage of St. Peter, we know nothing 
 more, than tliat he was descended of one Jona, or 
 John. His father, however, seems to have been in 
 indigent circumstances; for. this son was bred to the 
 occupation of a fisherman. To toil upon the lake of 
 Gcnnesaret, for an humble livelihood, was Peter's em- 
 ploy, and in this laborious business, he was associated 
 with three others of the most eminent disciples of our 
 Lord. When we behold the great Apostle dragging 
 his net in the waters, or mending it upon the shore, it 
 seems not probable, that he had received of his parents, 
 nor been able to aftbrd himself, many advantages of 
 education. In the place, indeed, of his nativity, these 
 advantages were not easily attainable. He was born 
 in Bethsaida, a village upon the border of the lake, 
 small in his youthful days, and chiefly inhabited by 
 fishermen and hiuitsmen, notwithstanding the name 
 and maguilicence, which it shortly alter acquired.
 
 CHAllACTER OF ST. PETER- 157 
 
 *' But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
 to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak 
 things of the world, to confound the things which are 
 mighty; and base things of the world, and things 
 which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things 
 which are not, to bring to nought things that are." 
 
 The scene in which he is first introduced, is his first 
 interview with Christ, as related in St. John's gospel. 
 This interview, he owed, under heaven, to the affec- 
 tion of a younger brother. When the Baptist pointed 
 out Jesus to his disciples, as " the Lamb of God who 
 was to take away the sins of the world," Andrew was 
 one of the happy two, who followed him to his abode, 
 and became acquainted with him. The first care of 
 this amiable man, to whom was allotted the crown of 
 martyrdom, was, to find his own brother Simon, and 
 disclose to him the discovery of the Messiah. Peter 
 went with him, to behold the man, and as soon as he 
 was come, Jesus called him by name, declared to him 
 bis descent, and gave him a prophetic notice of his 
 future destination. Thus, to fraternal love and zeal, 
 is owing the first intercourse between Christ and this 
 renowned of his followers. Happy would it be, if, in 
 every family, the ties of affection bound the members 
 as closely together, and each one were as anxious that 
 the whole should be brought to see and acknowledge 
 " him, of whom Moses and the Prophets did write." 
 
 It appears, however, that Peter did not, at that time, 
 attach himself wholly to Christ. He returned to his 
 home, and pursued his occupation. At a later period, 
 after John was cast into prison, Jesus came the second 
 time into Galilee. It was then, that, walking by 
 Gennesaret, he saw the fishermen and their boats, 
 and in Simon's boat, taught the people who pressed to 
 hear him. He now ordained the miraculous draught 
 of fishes; which stupendous act, wrought conviction 
 in the mind of Peter, that he was the Lord, filled him 
 with becoming reverence and fear, and laid the fpun-
 
 158 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 elation of his adiierence to Christ. The Saviour, at 
 this time, bade him follow him, and taught him, that 
 his occupation would be greatly changed; that, in 
 future, it should be his business to take and save the 
 souls of men. Here is the date of Peter's determined 
 attachment to our Lord. Human imagination ; any 
 thing he had heard of men; flesh and blood; did not, 
 could not, fix his faith in Christ. But when by the 
 power of the Father, displayed in the works and word 
 of the Messiah, and by Internal assistance to discern 
 rightly his character and truth, it was revealed to Peter 
 that he was the Christ, he confessed, he adored, he left 
 his friends, his business, his home, his all, and followed 
 him. His faith was grounded on the divine evidences in 
 Christ's favour; to estimate which evidences, he was 
 blest with a hajij^y readiness. Similar, and increased 
 evidences, arc offered to all, and a like readiness to 
 discern them, \\ ill be given to those, who, with docile 
 minds, implore it of the Almighty. A faith thus 
 founded is the firmest and most satisfactory. It will 
 enable any possessor of it, whatever men may say of 
 the Redeemer; yea, though the world should renounce 
 his gospel, to adhere to Simon's confession, " thou art 
 the Christ, the Son of the Living CJod." 
 
 Humility is the sure attendant of real greatness. It 
 is an indication of worth in any character. Of all 
 worth, it is an ornament. This virtue api)ears among 
 the first exhibited in this great Apostle, and breaks 
 forth upon us, frequently, in the conduct of his life, as 
 one of his peculiar proixMties. Upon his full discovery 
 of the Saviour's character, in the boat, this virtue was 
 seen in Peter in its genuine nature, and loveliness. 
 He felt conscious of imperfections; he felt his unwor- 
 thiness of the special notice of Christ. He prostrated 
 himself at his feet, and exclaimed, " Depart from me, 
 lor 1 am a sinful man, O, Lord." Conscious of frail- 
 ties; sensible of the infinite distance between him 
 and the Christ; shrinking from the supposition that he
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 159 
 
 could be serviceable to tl)o Lord ; he was oppressed 
 by his presence, and felt, as once the noble Centurion 
 felt, and as every true disciple of the Redeemer must 
 often feel, " unworthy that he should come under his 
 roof." How interesting the scene! Behold this 
 mighty Apostle at Jesus' feet. Our hearts are reliev- 
 ed, as well as his, when the Saviour encourages him 
 tenderly, with a declaration of the high office to which 
 he was destined. Often was the same lowliness of 
 character seen in his life. How graceful does his 
 humility appear, when wounded by the approach of 
 his Master, to do for him a menial, yet symbolic ser- 
 vice, it exclaimed, " Lord, thou shalt never wash my 
 feet !" And yet, when Christ told him the necessity 
 of his submitting to be washed, how readily he relin- 
 quished his own sentiments to his teacher; "Lord, 
 not my feet only, but my hands, and my head !" None 
 of the Apostles received distinctions, more calculated 
 to elate the mind, than he did. But, though they 
 were so great, that posterity have founded on them, 
 for him, pretensions to such eminence, as they never 
 conferred; it is remarkable, that he wore his honours 
 with unassuming propriety, arrogating to himself no 
 superiority over his fellow Apostles, but exerting him- 
 self, even in the smallest offices, for the gratification of 
 his Master and brethren, and the salvation of men. 
 Throughout his ministry, he was, as his catholic 
 Epistle exhorted all Christians to be, clothed with 
 humility; and the stamp of his lowliness was set by 
 his contemporaries, who testify that, he thought him- 
 self unworthy to die on the cross, in the position in 
 which his Lord expired. 
 
 It is a frequent remark of good moralists, that humi- 
 lity is congenial with true greatness of spirit, and all 
 the energies of a manly character. Following St. 
 Peter in his attendance upon our Lord, and his dis- 
 charge of the ministry to which he was appointed, we 
 find the observation verified. His meejcness was
 
 160 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 Mended with courage; his humble sense of his unwor- 
 thiness, with zeal for the truth. There opens upon us 
 an honest warmth, an iniE;enuous boldness, which, 
 though we fear the consequences, we cannot but ad- 
 mire. Who can avoid approving emotions, when, in 
 the earnestness of regard, he girds on his fisher's coat, 
 and plunges into the waves to swim to the Lord, 
 whom John had discovered upon the shore r What 
 bosom is not sensible to his heroism, when, conscious 
 of the integrity of his cause, he checked Malchus in 
 the garden, and thought with two swords, and a little 
 band of ten, to protect his Master from the armed 
 rabble, which came out to take him? Who can with- 
 hold admiration at his firmness, when he appears be- 
 fore the Sanhedrim, or rises in the Synagogue? In 
 the discharge of his ministerial duties, what general 
 dignity, wisdom, candor and steadfast perseverance ! 
 The union of humility like his, with such ingenuous 
 frankness, and honest zeal, constitute a character 
 which we cannot help loving and respecting, and 
 which the iMost High delights to honour. 
 
 Accordingly, it is to be observed, that eminent hon- 
 ours, favours, and marks of distinction, were be- 
 stowed on Peter by his Lord. Early called to the 
 knowledge of Christ, he was admitted to his most inti- 
 mate confidence. It was his privilege to witness the 
 transfiguration of the Hcdcciner. In the selection of 
 the twelve, from the number of followers, to be his 
 ambassadors and representatives to all the earth, he 
 was the first. In the retirements of his Master, and 
 the sacred scene of Gethsemane, he, if any one, was 
 an attendant. He had, on one occasion, the special 
 prayers of Christ to the Father, and was assured that, 
 though Satan would sift him, he should not be lost, 
 and might bo a mean of strengthening his bretiiren. 
 But the greatest of his honours, and that which, in the 
 kalendar of half the Christian world, has elevated 
 Petor to supremacy, is recorded in the i>assage of
 
 f!H4RACTr.R OF ST. PETER. l6l 
 
 which the text is a part. " And Jesus said unto him, 
 Blessed art thou Simen Bar-jona, for flesh and blood 
 hath not revealed" my character " unto thee, but my 
 Father who is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, 
 that thou art Peter, and upon this rock, I will build 
 my Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 against it. And I will give unto thee, the keys of the 
 kingdom of heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt bind 
 on earth, shall be bound in heaven ; and whatsoever 
 thou shalt loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven." 
 These words of Christ have been stretched by some, 
 to an amazing extent; and by others, they are almost 
 reduced to a passage without meaning. One, has 
 made of them an elevation of Peter over all Apostles, 
 to the place of Christ; the other, has made of tliem a 
 reward to his faith of senseless sounds. That some 
 honour or reward was conferred on Peter, by this dec- 
 laration of his Lord, is indisputable. What that 
 honour was, whether it was participated by the rest 
 of the Apostles; or how it was realized, are points 
 which are intimately connected with the history we 
 are contemplating. Tiiat the declaration did not com- 
 municate a supremacy of power over the rest of the 
 Apostles, is evident from a variety of considerations. 
 It does not appear, that Peter ever claimed, or exer- 
 cised such a sui)criority. Before this commission, 
 induced by his seniority, or natural eagerness, he had 
 often led the debate and si)oken for the whole. And, 
 after it, he did, indeed, rank first, and chiefly manage 
 the coranraon weal. But, it was a distinction of rank, 
 not of authority. There was no pre-eminence in 
 power. If any thing he did were wrong, or displeas- 
 ing, no doubt it was corrected by the rest. Indeed, 
 he was by the Apostles called to account for his inter- 
 course with Cornelius, and when he was to be blamed 
 for Judaizing in Antioch, we know that, St. Paul 
 " withstood him to the face." Besides, the expres- 
 sions in the tleclaration which eonvey power, are 
 
 VOL. TT. 21
 
 162 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 afterwanl applied to all the Apostles, and expressions 
 synonimous, are used by the Saviour in the farewell 
 commission given to the eleven, immediately before 
 his ascension into heaven. The giving of the keys, 
 was clearly symbolical of the power of the receiver, 
 to open and shut, to bind and to loose, to admit and to 
 exclude, and, in general to manage, or superintend the 
 management of all the spiritual interests of the 
 Church. This power was declared to the twelve, 
 without the use of the symbol, when, at Capernaum, 
 h^ assured them, " whatsoever ye shall bind on earth, 
 shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall 
 loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven." The dec- 
 laration was confirmed alike to Peter, and to them, in 
 the grand commission they received when they were 
 assembled after his resurrection, and he stood in the 
 midst, '• whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted; 
 and whose soever sins ye retain, to them they are re- 
 tained." 
 
 But, if all share in the Apostolic authority, what 
 distinction was conferred on St. Peter? Something 
 appropriate to him, was certainly intended by those 
 explicit words, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I 
 will build my Church." Let us give the most proba- 
 \Ac lairport of the words, and, recurring to the life of 
 the Apostle, observe liow the promised honour was 
 realized. This, then, we conceive to be the substance 
 of the Saviour's dcclaralion. Tliou, instructed of my 
 Father, hast nobly confessed me to be the Christ. I 
 acknowledge thee, Peter, fitly named a rock. Thou 
 shalt be the first stone, or pillar of my Church. From 
 thee, shall be its fitrst growth. Thy preaching, thy 
 firmness, thy labour, shall make the beginning, shall 
 lay the foundation; and, once established, it shall 
 never be overtiirown. Now, if we can find all this 
 fulfilled, and nothing more relating to the subject 
 experienced, by the great Apostle, all doubts and difii- 
 culties must vanish, and every mind be satisfied witli
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 163 
 
 the construction of the text. Return we, then, to the 
 sacred history. When the Lord was risen from the 
 dead, who of the Apostles was favoured with the first 
 appearance? Peter. Who proposed, and managed, 
 the filling of the vacancy made in.-"' ' '' -Ko 
 
 Apostles, by the fall of Judas? Peter. When me 
 Saviour, about to leave the earth, determined to vest 
 that power which he had received of the Father, in 
 certain of his followers, for the government and bene- 
 fit of the Church on earth, the power of receiving, 
 rejecting, teaching, judging, forgiving, &:c. who was 
 the first selected to this great, and honourable office; 
 to this support of the form, and order, and purity of 
 the Church? Was it not Peter? This same Apostle, 
 first preached the risen Jesus, and by an irresistible 
 discourse, gathered the first increase from the Jews, 
 even three thousand souls. He, too, first opened the 
 gospel to the Gentiles, and Cornelius with his family, 
 were the fruits. In all these things, from which arose 
 by gentle gradations, the visible gospel Church, Peter 
 was eminently the chief instrument. We see his Mas- 
 ter's promise verified. In these honours, the excellent 
 qualities of the Apostle were called into exertion, and 
 his humility, zeal, and noble confession of Christ, 
 abundantly rewarded. We see his virtues, observe his 
 favour with him who distributeth all gifts, and ac- 
 knowledging him first of Apostles, unite a reverence 
 with our love for his character. 
 
 Our time having now elapsed, the subject ^vill be 
 resumed in the afternoon.
 
 SERlMON LX. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 St. Matthew, xv-i. 17. 
 
 And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art 
 thou., Simon Bar-jona; forfJtsh and blood hath not 
 revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in 
 heaven. 
 
 An our discourse, Christians, this niorniiis, concern- 
 ing the great Apostle, whom the Church lionours this 
 day, as highly favoured of her Lord, we adverted to 
 his origin and occupation ; to his felicity in having a 
 Christian brotlier who Hrst spake to him of the Mes- 
 siah ; to the miracle w iiich wrought conviction in his 
 mind, and his consequent call and resolution to follow 
 Jesus; to that humility, and that ardour, and that 
 manliness, when convinced, which were so strikingly
 
 /CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 165 
 
 combined in him, and form the most prominent features 
 of his character; and to the honours and distinctions 
 conferred upon bim, by the Most High. Under this 
 last topic, we considered more particularly, the decla- 
 ration of our Lord, " Thou art Peter, and upon thi* 
 rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell 
 shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee, 
 the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever 
 thou shalt bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven; 
 and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, shall be 
 loosed in heaven." And while from the same delega- 
 tion of power being conveyed to all the Apostles, in 
 nearly the same words ; from St. Peter's never having 
 claimed, or exercised any pre-eminence over the ele- 
 ven; from his being called to account by them in a 
 particular instance, and being withstood in another 
 case, by St. Paul ; and from there being placed in the 
 Presidency of the fust t:oiiveiiiioii ot the Church, after 
 the ascension of onr Lord, not St. Peter, but the 
 Bishop of the mother Church of Jerusalem, St. James, 
 we inferred, that tlie use of the keys, was ecpially 
 shared by all the Apostles, and that there was no 
 ground offered, in the text, and context, for attributing 
 10 St. Peter, as the Romanists have erroneously, and, 
 it is here supposed, unhapi>ily done, any supremacy; 
 we, nevertheless, saw in the special mercies and fa- 
 vours which Christ vouchsafed to him, and especially 
 in his being the first preacher of the Christian faith, 
 and in his gathering both the iirst Jews, and the first 
 Gentiles who were added unto the Church, a fulfil- 
 ment of our Lord's emphatic and discriminating pro- 
 mise to him ; and reasons why we should study his 
 life, and reverence his memory as one, whom the 
 Head of the Church had delighted to honour. 
 
 We here resume the history of this distinguished 
 Apostle, and although there are forebodings, which, 
 perhaps, the very boldness and ardour for which he 
 was distinguished, would warrant, it is not without a
 
 166 CHARACTER OF ST. FEtER. 
 
 I)ersuasion, that his faith, which was ^o well fouudetl, 
 and our Lord's promise, which is for ever sure, will 
 bring him through every furnace, to which, in the 
 subsequent discharge of the ministry committed to 
 him, be may be exposed, purified by the fire and seven 
 times refined. 
 
 Warm in his affections, his faith grounded upon 
 evidence, and noticed with many favours, it would 
 jiaturally be expected, that Peter would be sanguine 
 in his attachment to his Lord. His afi'ection for his 
 Master and for his cause, was exceedingly ardent. 
 It seemed, indeed, as if nothing should *' separate him 
 from the love of Christ." Twice, he was foremost to 
 confess his conviction, that he was the Rlessiali. Ten- 
 der and determinate was his rci)ly, when the Saviour 
 asked the disciples, whether they, with the multitude, 
 would also go away. " Lord, to whom sliall we go, 
 thou hast the words of eceruitl life.'' He was con- 
 scious, himself, of the most sincfire devotion to his 
 Master. Anxious for his safety, studious of his ac- 
 commodation, careful of his honour, he ihouglit there 
 was no sufferings which he could not endure no sac- 
 lificc whicli he could not make, if his necessities 
 required it. When the Saviour declared, that one of 
 the twelve should betray him, no one was so uneasy 
 as St. Peter to have the dreadful truth explained. 
 When he declared tliat, all his disciples should forsake 
 him in the night of his distress, no one \\ as so >\ ounded 
 as St. Peter at the thought. Overflowing with aflec- 
 •tion, sure of its constancy, confident of his strength, 
 he cxidts to say, " Lord, I am ready to go with thee to 
 prison and to death ; though 1 should die with thee, 
 yet will I not deny thee.*' 
 
 We seem here t» see human nature in its best estate, 
 and virtue at its highest elevation. But, alas! that 
 nature is fallen; that virtue is frail. We tremble as 
 we advance. Blessed Apostle, would that we could 
 end thy story here! But. as if to put a reproach upon
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 167 
 
 all human confidence ; as if to teach us that, of our- 
 selves, we are nothing; and that "there is," indeed, 
 " none good but one, that is God ;" as if to beget in 
 us charity for all men, and to furnish the most power- 
 ful enforcement of the sacred admonition, " Let him 
 that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall ;" as 
 if to keep us sleeplessly vigilant over ourselves, and 
 constantly cAercising, an immovable trust in God, 
 this great Apostle is jiermitted to err; and the Spirit 
 of God, in the sacred record, has exhibited to us, even 
 Peter, fallen! In an evil hour, this humble, zealous, 
 honoured, affectionate Apostle, overcome by his fears, 
 denied that he ever knew his Lord ! It was Peter's 
 failing, to rely too much on his own strength; he did 
 Jiot build his confidence suflicienlly on the divine sup- 
 port, nor recur to this, and rest upon it, in the hour of 
 difficulty, temptation and danger. This, incurred on 
 JiiiN the reproach of feeble faith, and brought him to 
 the awful error of his life. It is a humiliating inci- 
 dent. Let us look on it, not to revile, but to compas- 
 sionate. He has his Lord's forgiveness. Yes, before 
 the offence, the kind Uedeemer made his apology; 
 " the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." The 
 eye which turned, as tlie cock crew, upon the terrified 
 disciple, while it looked reproof, looked pity and for- 
 giveness. Soon as he rose from the grave, the kind 
 Redeemer evinces his tenderness for the offender's 
 feelings; "go, tell my disciples, and Peter." And on 
 the simple declaration of his love, to Peter it is given 
 " to feed Christ's lambs." Indeed, he atoned with 
 sighs, and labours for his faults. Never was contri- 
 tion greater than his, when " he went out, and wept 
 bitterly." The tears came from his heart; his anguish 
 was " bitter." But by exertion, he laboured to com- 
 pensate the Church for the disgrace he brought upon 
 it. We find him, with unequalled boldness, preaching 
 Jesus to his very murderers. He traversed all lands, 
 to carry the gospel of his Lord. In A^sia. and in
 
 168 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 Africa, we trace his steps. In Europe, he preached 
 Christ. Every where, he sacrificed comfort, and ha- 
 zarded his life, that he might promote his Master's 
 cause. Not power, not pomp, not all the threats of 
 malice, not the dread armory of judicial death, could 
 dismay him. To demolish the strong holds of error, 
 and bring men to the knowledge of redemption 
 through Jesus, he was ready and desirous to " spend 
 and be spent" in the Lord's service. Kindly, Christ 
 had forewarned him, that when " he was old he should 
 be girded by aiioilier, and carried whither he would 
 not." Peter treasured in his bosom, this prophetic 
 notice that he should be crucified. But when old age 
 approached, and he was sure that he should shortly put 
 off his tabernacle, as the Lord had showed him, he 
 abated not his boldness, nor his zeal. We follow him 
 to Rome, unappalled by Nero, at whose namt- nature 
 shudders. There, j)ersecuted and perplexed, he gov- 
 erned, with St. Paul, the Church they together found- 
 ed; till the cruel emperor, intoxicated with malice, had 
 Peter barbarously scourged, and nailed him, a willing 
 and exulting martyr, to the cross. 
 
 Thus died thus great Apostle, after forty years' ser- 
 vice devo(<Hl to his Master's honour, the establishment 
 of Chrisliaiiitv , and the salvation of mankind. There 
 are some inferences from the history of this Apostle, 
 which yon will allow me to suggest, in closing this 
 discourse. 
 
 In the first place, in considering the history of St. 
 Peter, we are struck with the holiness and dignity ol 
 the Christian Priesthood. It is evident, the kingdom 
 of heaven, in the commission to the Apostles, signi- 
 fied the Church, and that the keys of it were given to 
 him, to exercise on earth. No one can suppose the 
 Saviour intended, that, at the death of Peter, these 
 keys should be lost; nor is it probable, they were then 
 to be resumed by himself. The delegation of the 
 power, in itself <?iipposes the neccs<;ity. or expediency
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 169 
 
 of its being exercised, by some persons in the world, 
 and the communication of it afterwards to all the 
 Apostles, shows that its operation was not to be 
 confined to St. Peter, nor to terminate at his dis- 
 solution. The truth is, in " sending them as his 
 Father sent him," he sent them with power to send 
 others; and the constitution of his Church, with his 
 assurance to its ministers, that he would be " with 
 them to the end of the world," evinces that, he ex- 
 pected they would do so. The Pastors of his Church 
 are, then, his " ambassadors," representatives in 
 " Christ's stead," acting in his name, and by his autho- 
 rity; and, surely, " no man taketh this honour unto 
 himself" In those to whom it is given, the sacred- 
 ness and dignity of their office indisputably requires 
 that, on their foreheads, and in their hearts, and 
 through their lives, should be inscribed " Holiness to 
 the Lord.' And dors it not give them a strong, and 
 sacred claim, to the love, the prayers, and the respect 
 of all Christians! " He that receiveth you, receiveth 
 me; and he that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent 
 me." The Pastors of his Church, sent successively 
 from the Apostles to the present day, have then " the 
 ministry of" the Christian " reconciliation," inlcuding 
 in it, all the promises of pardon, grace, and everlasting 
 life, committed unto them; and while the explicit 
 declaration of this economy to Peter, and conveyance 
 accordingly, should beget in us an entire confidence in 
 this institution of our Lord; the use we should make 
 of the fall of the great Apostle should be, to remind us 
 of the inspired admonition, that " we have this trea- 
 sure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of tlie 
 power should be of God, and not of us." 
 
 Again. From the life of St. Peter we learn, that 
 frailty is inherent in the best of men. We are apt to 
 look in eminent, and in sacred characters, for perfec- 
 tion. But it is, what never yet was found in mortal. 
 
 VOL. n. 22
 
 170 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 Great worth may be acquired, high attainments may 
 be made in virtue, in wisdom and divine excellence. 
 But some weakness, some heedless error, some fault 
 or foible, will still betray, of all but Jesus, that every 
 descendant of Adam, is a fallen, and sinful being. 
 What noble, and lovely qualities, have we beheld in 
 Peter. A thousand exrellenries to attach us to his 
 character. Who more concerned to be perfect, or 
 more instructed in his duty than he. Did he not 
 seem fum in his station, as the rugged oak, defying 
 every blast. Yet, a light breeze laid him prostrate, 
 shorn of his glory! Where he felt strongest, his 
 weakness was betrayed. He fell, where he thought 
 himself most secure. If he, great and good as he was, 
 erred, in whom shall we look for perfection! If the 
 cedars of Libanus have been shaken, what have wo 
 not to fear for the hyssop on our walls! Do we, then, 
 discern imperfections in our fellows? Let us remem- 
 ber, that we, like them, are men, and may as greatly 
 err. Is tJiere not, that entire rectitude and holiness in 
 the ministers of the altar, which we expect? Let not 
 their office, nor Christianity, suffer neglect, contempt, 
 nor blame. Cover their failing, or look on them 
 with holy grief, and remember that Peter was unfor- 
 tunate. Let not the errors which we find in any of 
 our race, disparage their good (pialities. With sor- 
 row behold, with tenderness reprove, the frailties of 
 each other; for "there is none that doetli good, and 
 sinneth not.'' 
 
 Further. The history we have been contemplating, 
 suggests to us that, one frail step should not consign a 
 man to blame aijd neglect; that he who has erred, 
 may yet be good and useful. The chief labours of St. 
 Peter, the noblest honours he gathered, his best ser- 
 vices to his Master and tlie world, wyre after the odi- 
 ous event which stained his character. Had he been 
 reprobated at once for his fault: had he been aban-
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 171 
 
 Joned by his Lord ; had he been left to himself, to his 
 shame, and to his iniquity, what a valuable character 
 might have been lost to the world, what valuable exer- 
 tions might have been lost to Christianity! But his 
 Lord was wise, and kind as well as just. The look 
 which drew his tears, raised also hope, and resolution, 
 to retrieve his virtue. He "wept;" was treated 
 kindly; and became the mean of bringing thousands 
 to eternal life. This instance speaks an affecting les- 
 son to mankind. How many men, condemned by 
 society, for one mishap ; how many friends discarded 
 by their inmates, for one folly; how many children 
 abandoned by their parents, for one misconduct; have 
 " wept" their miseries and their faults in vain; 
 sunk in despair, and become wholly criminal. Par- 
 donable, should the first error always be. Yea, 
 " seventy times seven," if the offender turn repent- 
 ant, should he be forgiven. Would we learn the 
 proper aspect of repreliension ? Look at the Sa- 
 viour's eye when it fell upon Peter; catch, if it be 
 possible, but part of its expression. It may recover, 
 while it reproves the offending son, or brother, or 
 friend. 
 
 Lastly. From this narrative, let us learn the for- 
 bearance and tenderness of our Lord. If he forgave 
 Peter, his denial of him in the hour of distress, hon- 
 oured him with excellent gifts, and made him great in 
 his kingdom, what may not every penitent, humble 
 offender, hope from his love. Does the Lord by trials, 
 by afllictions, by perplexities, seem to look angrily 
 upon you? Be assured, they are reproofs for our 
 good. Call to mind your imperfections. Bewail your 
 unfaithfulness. Devote yourselves to him anew, with 
 full purpose of amendment of life. Then shall his 
 strength be perfected in your weakness. Instead 
 of the reproving eye, the healing light of his coun- 
 tenance, shall be lifted up upon you. Like the
 
 172 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 
 
 great Apostle in the text, you " will go from 
 strength to strength," till " unto the God of Gods" 
 you appear with him covered with the righteous- 
 ness of your Redeemer, and partakers of everlasting 
 glory.
 
 SERMON LXI. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 Matthew, ix. 9. 
 
 And (ts Jesus passed forth from thence, he saw a man, 
 named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom; and 
 he saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose, and 
 followed him. 
 
 LY thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are 
 your ways my ways, saith the Lord." Possessing 
 sovereign freedom to do as he pleases, and guided by 
 infinite wisdom, which sees the end and consequences 
 of things, he oft times acts for reasons, incomprehen- 
 sible to us, in ways, which seem mysterious. In the 
 dispensation of favours, frequently to our narrow sight, 
 he appears to act with an unequal hand. And in the 
 selection of instruments for the accomplishment of his
 
 17C CIIAIlACiER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 purposes, frequently to our iinilc judgements, he 
 chooses such as are unsuitable and unworthy. But 
 *' known unto God, are all his works from the begin- 
 ning of the world," and the issue of them all, to the 
 astonishment of our ignorance, is glorious, wise and 
 beneficial. A singular instance of this truth we have 
 in the selection of Matthew, to the sacred, important, 
 and honourable post which he filled. It is an eminent 
 display of the sovereignty of his grace, and a wise 
 part of his economy in the promulgation of the gos- 
 pel. 
 
 There have come down to us, but few particulars of 
 this great Apostle and Evangelist. The parts of his 
 life which are known, arc clear and important; tliey 
 ought to be remembered and understood, as fragments 
 of a valuable antiquity. While our Church leads us 
 to honour his memory, as one of the pillars on which 
 her goodly fabric rests, it becomes us to be acquainted 
 with his character and Ule, as far as the knowledge of 
 them is preserved, and to avail ourselves of the instruc- 
 tions, which may be derived from the sober contem- 
 plation, of his vocation and ministry. 
 
 The first knowledge that we have of Matthew, he 
 is sitting in a tolbooth, at Capernaum, uj^on the bor- 
 ders of the sea of Galilee. We learn from the other 
 Lvangelists, who speak of him by his other name, 
 Levi, that he was the son of a certain Ali)heus. But 
 of the place of his nativity, his education, Sec. there is 
 no information. lie was, at the time when we first 
 hear of him, in a very lucrative, though a very iniqui- 
 tous office. Alter the Romans had subjected the 
 .Tews, they imposed upon them many heavy tributes. 
 The collection of these, was a very profitable business; 
 and, at first, entrusted only to Romans, and they of 
 honourable rank. But, in process of time, it was 
 conferred upon less worthy characters, and, at length, 
 the Jews were permitted to buy the office; and col- 
 lected, with much gain, taxes upon their own country-
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 175 
 
 men. Abuse soon ensued. So covetous and unjust, 
 so abominably exorbitant, fraudulent, and cruel were 
 they, in the time of Christ, that Publican, was an 
 hated term ; an epithet of great opprobrium. Caper- 
 naum was the metropolis of all GalileCj and on the 
 sea, by which it stood, there was much passing and 
 conveyance of merchandise; among the tax gatherers, 
 therefore, it is probable, that Matthew's situation was 
 one of the most lucrative and eligible. How he had 
 conducted himself in it we cannot say. He should 
 not, however, be included in an indiscriminate censure. 
 Possibly, he might have been honest; for in all classes 
 of men, some that are worthy may be found. There 
 were a few names even in Sardis; and, in one instance, 
 the Saviour pronounced a Publican "justified," be- 
 fore a more respected, and important Pharisee. Be 
 this as it may, certain it is, that he was of the number 
 of Publicans when the Saviour's eyes were turned 
 towards him. When he received the invitation to 
 follow the Redeemer, he was " sitting at the receipt 
 of custom." 
 
 We have here, an instance of the unlimited mercy, 
 and goodness of God. None of his fallen children, 
 are excepted in his gracious proffers of salvation. 
 From an odious class of men, and a proverbially ini- 
 quitous employment, Matthew is called to be an Apos- 
 tle of Christianity, and the first writer of the history 
 of our Lord. I know not with what reason, any 
 have considered this as an exemplification of the sove- 
 reignty of Jehovah, in absolutely and unconditionally 
 electing to their happiness, those who shall be saved. 
 To me it would scorn, that God is supreme over all 
 his works; but that, in vouchsafing to raise conspicu- 
 ously, to the hopes and honours of the gospel, those 
 who were notoriously " dead in trespasses and sins," 
 he would teach us, the infinite sufficiency of his grace; 
 and inculcate the truth, so worthy of his nature, and 
 sp consolitary to the human race, thnt his arms are
 
 176 CHARACfTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 open to receive all who will hearken to his voice ; that 
 " he would not the death of a sinner, but rather that 
 he should turn and live." Art thou oppressed with 
 the burden of thy iniquities ? Has the path of thy 
 life, been remote from the way of God's command- 
 ments? Under the consciousness of thy manifold 
 sins, art thou ready to conclude that, for thee, there is 
 no mercy; that thou art rejected for ever, by thy God? 
 Rouse thee, from this despair. Hearken to the voice 
 of the Son of the Highest. Arise, and leave all, and 
 follow him. " Though thy sins be as scarlet, they 
 shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like 
 crimson, they shall be as wool." In the vocation of 
 St. Matthew, and throughout the whole gospel, thou 
 art taught that, Jesus " came not to call the righteous, 
 but sinners to repentance." 
 
 The cavillers against our holy religion, have, with 
 sophistic levity, endeavoured to turn those things 
 against it, which, by the wise and considerate, are 
 placed among the evidences of its truth. To unbi- 
 assed reason, it appears no small argument of its 
 authenticity, that its first propagators were of the 
 himiblest, and poorest class of men ; so illiterate, as to 
 have been incapable of devising such an imposture, 
 and so destitute of wealth and i)Ower, as to have been 
 unable, by human means, to obtain such wonderful 
 success. But no; say the adversaries of the C'hristinn 
 faith ; they were so poor as to have nothing to risk, by 
 joining themselves to Christ; and so ignorant, as to 
 have been liable to credulity and deception. In the 
 method of propagating the gospel, wonderfully has 
 God condescended to the pcrverseness of men. \Vhat 
 ^^ ill these objectors to the illiterateness of the primitive 
 disciples say, when Paul of Tarsus, a man of profound 
 understanding, and accomplished in all the learning of 
 his age, is found bouing the knee to the Lord .Jesus? 
 What will these cavillers at the poverty of the first 
 preachers of Christianity object, when the Apostle of
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 17^ 
 
 this day is observed among them? He was taken 
 from a sect so obnoxious to the hatred of the Jews, 
 that no impostor would have selected his coadjutors 
 from it. He had wealth to lose, and a very valuable 
 employment. And from his great intercourse with 
 men, from his success in procuring his appointment to 
 office, and from his pjeservation and exercise of it in 
 so populous a place, it is reasonable to conclude that, 
 he was not destitute of prudence, or understanding. 
 But, to the call of Cbrist, his ears were open. As 
 his poorer and more illiterate brethren, left their 
 friends and risked their safety, so he abandoned his 
 office and its emoluments, he left all, " rose up, and 
 followed him." 
 
 Here, we are not obliged to suppose, that St. Mat- 
 thew divested himself of all his possessions. It is not 
 the office of religion, to strip men of the blessings 
 which the Most High may have given them. We find 
 him, indeed, receiving Christ afterwards in his own 
 house, and making an entertainment for him and his 
 friends. But wc are to suppose that, he relinquished 
 all covetous inclinations; that he relinquished an 
 office abounding with temptations, and iniquities; that 
 he relinquished his attachment to ill-gotten wealth, 
 and was ready, if required, to devote all to the service 
 of his Lord. And to similar coniLluct, is every Chris- 
 tian called. Father, or mother, he may not love more 
 than the Redeemer. If his " right hand offend him," 
 he will " cut it off, and cast it from him." Whatever 
 in his disposition or pursuits, is opposed to the holiness 
 of the gospel, he will sacrifice to the will of that Being, 
 who gave himself a sacrifice for i\\^ sins of the world. 
 You will not, therefore, deem it impertinent, if 1 be- 
 seech you, as Christians, to consider this conduct of 
 St. Matthew, as calculated to impress on you, the 
 necessity of removing from your bosoms, those covet- 
 ous desires of the pomps and vanities of life, and that 
 inordinate love of riches, which would lead you to 
 
 VOL. H. 23
 
 178 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 pursue- them in any way, or by any means, wliicii nw 
 incompatibl'e with tlio precepts, or the spirit of tiic 
 
 gOS[)cI. 
 
 To return (o tlie narrative. It has apjieared to 
 soiiic, strange anil iiirrcdible, that Matthew should, 
 upon so sudden a command, liave quitted Ids gainful 
 occuj)atioii, and, with sucli ready obedience, have fol- 
 lowed a person with whom he had no acquaintance. 
 These dirficidiies will vanish, upon a recollection of 
 facts, and of the i)ower of the vSi)irit of God. 
 
 It is hardly supposable, tliat the Apostle had heard 
 nothing of Christ, and been wholly ignorant of his 
 doctrine, before he called him to his service. The 
 Publicans, we know, were generally curious to hear 
 him, and in the synagogues and streets of Capernaum, 
 he liad frequently taught. From his terrible denuncia- 
 tion against this city, it should seem too, that here he 
 had wrought mnny of his most mighty, and convincing 
 miracles. " And thou, ('apernaum, which art ex- 
 alted unto heaven, shall be brought down to hell; for 
 if the mighty works which have been done in thee, 
 hail been done in Sodom, it would have remained 
 until this day." It is evident from this, that most 
 salislaclory e\idencrs of his divine authority, had 
 been exhibited in this place. Can it, llien, be likely, 
 iliat an inhabitant, whose business was in the city, 
 \\ iti» all di'scrii)tions of peojile, should have heard 
 nothing of these discourses, and seen none of these 
 ^\orks? It is a much more probable supposition, that 
 Matthew had heard the doctrines of Christ, and wit- 
 nessed the ^A•o^derfld testimonials of his mission, 
 which were daily exhibited, before he was called to be 
 his discii)le. 
 
 There is no difficulty, ho^^ever, in supposing, that 
 for extraordinary purposes, the Almighty should some- 
 limes act without the onlinary means. Hath not God, 
 the hearts of all men in his hands, and may he not 
 turn them even as he will ^ Ilath lie not access to the
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 179 
 
 minds which he hath created, and may he not convey 
 to them such truth as he pleases ? When he would 
 select to himself, a peculiar people, could he " with 
 a mighty hand, and an outstretched arm," take them 
 from amidst another people; and can he not, when he 
 would select an individual for his service, take him by 
 the power of his Spirit, from darkness to light ? There 
 is nothing unreasonable in the opinion, that, if the 
 occasion required it, the Almighty would supernatu- 
 rally incline Matthew to his will. Upon either sup- 
 position, we are to refer to the Holy Spirit, the Pub- 
 lican's sanctification. It was unquestionably through 
 the aid, and under the blessing of the Comforter, that 
 he received and fulfilled his ministry. 
 
 But it is necessary, that I sliould here caution you, 
 against an unhappy perversion of this interesting case. 
 There is danger, in the present day, tiiat it may be 
 made promotive of spiritual delusion. The first age 
 of the gospel, was an age of miracles. Though God, 
 even then, did not act without regard to the nature of 
 men, he, nevertheless, for the conviction of the world, 
 vouchsafed many extraordinary manifestations of his 
 power and vSpirit. But now, that the economy of the 
 gospel is established, and the ways and means pointed 
 out, by which men are to secure the salvation of their 
 souls, I know not that any have more reason to ex- 
 pect, extraordinary influences upon their minds, than 
 they have to expect a light from heaven shining round 
 about them, as it did about Paul; or to hear the mira- 
 culous voice which he heard, speaking audibly from 
 the skies. God dealeth with us according to the 
 nature he hath given us, and the condition in which 
 we are placed. He hath given us " the holy Scrip- 
 tures, which are able to make us wise unto salvation." 
 His Spirit, indeed, must accompany his word, to ren- 
 der it effectual in our hearts. But, this Si)irit, I con- 
 ceive, operates as silently, as the orbs of heaven are 
 moved in their spheres, by the power of his invisible
 
 180 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 hand. Guard, therefore, against mistaking the glow 
 of animal feelings, for a spiritual sensibility. Guard, 
 assiduously, against mistaking the illusions of fancy, 
 for the motions of the Holy Ghost. God seldom does 
 that, in a supernatural way, for the accomplishment 
 of which, he hath appointed elTcctual means, and 
 established regular laws. Enter into covenant with 
 him, by the rite which he liath ordained. Learn by 
 the light of his word, the whole system of your duties. 
 By prayer, and an attendance upon his institutions, 
 seek the aid of his Spirit, to enable you to i)erform his 
 will. With vigilant circumspection, and unwearied 
 diligence, endeavour that the means be efiectual. In 
 this plain, and reasonable coiuse, " be faithful unto 
 death;" and the immutable Autlmr of the everlasting 
 covenant, will not fail to " give you, a crown of life." 
 
 We turn, again, to the highly favoured Publican, 
 and behokl him enrolled among the Apostles of our 
 Lord. Doubtless, he was not deficient in his ser- 
 vices; but, with tlic eleven, spent his time and 
 strength, in spreading the glad tidings of salvation to 
 all people. One special service, it was liis happiness* 
 to perform for the Church and the world, which re- 
 flects a peculiar t;lory upon his momory, and endears it 
 to all the faithful. The hrst, and most complete bio- 
 graphy of our blessed Lord, was from his pen. The 
 divine Spirit, employed his hand to record the events, 
 and doctrines, in \\ hich all posterity was interested, 
 and the knowledge of which, is destined, in the ful- 
 ness of time, to become " the joy of the whole earth." 
 Written in a time of persecution, to support and esta- 
 blish the Jewish converts, as well as to convey to 
 posterity, the life and instructions of the Redeemer of 
 the world, it abounds with consolatory facts, and re- 
 vnarks; it notices, with peculiar exactness, the fulfd- 
 ment of the projihecics in the various events of the 
 Saviour's life; and it contains, the most awful, and 
 sublima particulars, o£ the du.v of the coming of the
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 181 
 
 Son of Man. Such a treasure of wisdom and com- 
 fort, the heathen sages would have pressed to their 
 bosoms. You, my friends, will not allow yourselves 
 to be unacquainted with the excellent gift ; and should 
 you desire the aid of other men's thoughts, permit me 
 to recommend to you the Lectures upon it, delivered 
 by the pious and exemplary Bishop of London. 
 
 Of the latter days of St. Matthew, time has spared 
 no indubitable records. What was his fate; whether 
 he suflfered martyrdom ; at what age ; where, and in 
 what manner, are points, however interesting, which 
 are involved in uncertainty. But, whatever were his 
 other services, and end, let us adore the extent of the 
 divine mercy, and honour the memory of the man, 
 who laid the foundation of the gospel history. From 
 his ready obedience to the call of Christ, let us learn 
 the propriety, of not delaying to comply with the same 
 invitation, which, in his word, is given to us and to 
 all men; " Follow me." By considering the station 
 and employment, from which he was called, let us 
 learn that, there is no condition, which the grace of 
 God may not reach, and, therefore, view with pity 
 and compassion the unfortunate wanderers in the 
 paths of iniquity. And, above all, by adverting to that 
 holy zeal, and Christian benevolence, with which, in 
 an age of persecution, he furnished the leading narra- 
 tive of the Saviour's life, let us be prompted, to a 
 lively concern for the welfare of the Church, and to 
 such a communication of the light and comfort, which 
 we have received, as may lead others to rejoice in the 
 same holy faith. " They thut be wise shall shine as 
 the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn 
 many to righteousiiess, as the stars for ever and ever.''
 
 SERMON LXIl. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE 
 EVANGELIST. 
 
 St. John, xiii. S3. 
 
 Novo there icas leaning on Jesus'* bosom, one of his dis- 
 ciples wlwm Jes^us loved. 
 
 A. HERE is something so interesting in the situation 
 of the person here introduced; and so higli an honour 
 is attached to his character, by this i)icturesque men- 
 tion of him, that we at once inquire who he was. 
 Though his name is not mentioned, circumstances 
 sufficiently prove that the enviable description be- 
 longs to St. John, to whose memory the Church has 
 consecrated this day. Happy Evangelist, to be per- 
 mitted to recline, with affectionate fondness, upon the 
 bosom of thy Lord ; and have thy name transmitted
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 183 
 
 to posterity, as emphatically " the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved." 
 
 But, how did St. John attain to such peculiar fa- 
 vour? Was there any thing in him, above the rest of 
 mankind, that the blessed Redeemer, who inculcated 
 and manifested an universal charity, viewed him with 
 such a partial regard ? Surely, the wise and equitable 
 Jesus, never felt a blind fondness for any individual. 
 What were the qualities, which gained his friend the 
 singular hap|)iness of his special affection? The 
 answer to these questions, will be the Evangelist's 
 best, and proper eulogium, and may lead us to some 
 useful reflections. 
 
 A peculiarly amiable disposition, with an ardent and 
 faithful attachment to his Lord, appear to have been 
 properties, for which St. ' John was distinguished, 
 above the other disciples. 
 
 From all tliat we can learn of him, he was a cha- 
 racter whom it would have been impossible not to 
 have loved. There was in his nature, that attractive 
 union of a modest, benevolent heart, with a luminous 
 and devout mind, with which those who know how 
 to feel and appreciate excellence, are always capti- 
 vated. Benevolence was the i)redominant trait of his 
 character; not a romantic feeling, an effeminate prin- 
 ciple, alive to artificial grief, but insensible to the real 
 sufferings of men ; concerned for those who are out of 
 its reach, but thoughtless of the claims of those who 
 are about it. It was a meek, yet manly benevolence, 
 defined as to its objects, and practical in its operation. 
 It was that benevolence, which makes the life amia- 
 ble; which feels, and pities when it feels; which car- 
 ries itself with a winning sweetness towards every 
 being, and finds its congenial pleasure in doing good. 
 Of this excellent princii)le, his heart was the seat. 
 This divine virtue formed his soul. His nature glowed 
 with that spirit of heavenly kindness, which views all 
 creatures with complacence or compassion ; and in the
 
 184 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 happiness of others, finds its own. In all his writings, 
 this spirit is found. His Epistles, which are written 
 from the heart^ and, therefore, are the best evidences 
 of his character, glow with such an enlightened, pure, 
 and tender charity, that it is impossible any person, in 
 whom the last remains of goodness are not extin- 
 guished, should not be made better by reading them. 
 They show him formed to love, and to be loved. In 
 no other writings, is there such a luminous benevo- 
 lence. In truth, his joy, his life, his darling theme, to 
 his death, was love. 
 
 It appears that, St. John had deeply contemplated 
 the divine nature, and the fruits of his study manifest, 
 that his soul was capacious and devout, as well as 
 benevolent. We no where fuid, such exalted views 
 of the divine perfections, and such explicit statements 
 of the mysteries of the Godhead, as in those parts 
 of Scripture which are tlie productions of his pen. 
 He must have been by nature amiable. But religion 
 had, doubtless, improved the good dispositions which 
 nature had given him. It was, in all probability, his 
 acquaintance with God, and particularly his habitual 
 contemplation of the divine goodness, and of the ope- 
 ration of it in the salvation of men, which filled him 
 with that sitjrit for whicii he was cons|)icuous, and 
 raised him to a degree of excellence, whicii few mor- 
 tals have attained. That he was eminently devout, is 
 evident, not only from his great attainments in the 
 knowledge of God's truth, and from the i)ious fervour 
 which pervades many of his writings, but, also, from 
 the habits of his life. We find him in the city, going 
 up to the temple daily at the hour of prayer; and when 
 he was an exile in the Isle of Patmos, though solitary 
 and afflicted, '' he was in the spirit on the Lord's day."" 
 
 Such a person as we have been contemplating, 
 could not but have loved the transcendent character 
 of Jesus Christ. Congenial spirits, will attract each 
 other. Nor is it imputing selfishness to the Savioirr
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 185 
 
 to suppose that, he was influenced by the Evangelist's 
 attachment, in admitting him to his intimate friend- 
 shij). It seems to be a law of eternal equit}^ that a 
 man who would have friends, must shovv himself 
 friendl}', and the most disinterested Being avows that, 
 " he will love them who love him." 
 
 That the Evangelist discovered an ardent attachment 
 to Christ, there can be no doubt. The mild, the pure, 
 the benevolent, the divine Redeemer, could not but 
 have been loved by one, who, gentle by nature, when 
 he had been filled by grace was so much like his Lord. 
 All that he was, and did, and taught, is calculated to 
 obtain the homage of good minds, and an indifference 
 to the loveliness of his character, is among the surest 
 evidences of corruption of heart. A disposition, like 
 St. John's, would readily yield to the impression of 
 such transcendent excellence. The position in which 
 we see him in the text, is not more indicative of the 
 Master's partiality, than of the disciple's love. It is, 
 indeed, to the ardour of his attachment, that candour 
 will attribute his unguarded expression concerning the 
 Samaritans ; the only instance of severity in his life, 
 a severity, which nothing but the exalted mercy and 
 divine forbearance of the Son of God, would have 
 impeached. As this great friend of all mankind 
 passed through Samaria, the ungrateful Samaritans 
 refused him the common civilities of humanity. 
 Wounded to the quick, by this disregard of his Lord, 
 the disciple would have called down fire from heaven 
 to destroy them. In this one instance, his zeal out- 
 stripped his benevolence. It served to show, that he 
 was mortal ; and manifested, that even to the lovely 
 John, the humble Jesus was superior. 
 
 There was a fidelity, as well as ardour in the attach- 
 ment of this disciple to his Lord, in which no other 
 disciple equalled him. Constancy marked his love. 
 When the Saviour was hurried to judgement, his com- 
 panions forsook him, or followed to deny him; but 
 
 vor« Ti. 24
 
 186 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 John, with generous courage, went in with him to see 
 the end. It was a dismaying end ; but we find him at 
 the foot of the cross, a mournful spectator, when we 
 look, in vain, for any one of his compeers. , On the 
 morn of the resurrection, he left even the zealous 
 Peter behind him, though they set out together; so 
 great was his desire to be at the sepulchre of his Lord, 
 if, haply, any good had betided him. There is no 
 truth more certain, than that the amiable virtues are 
 connected. His uniform tenderness, and genuine 
 benevolence, his modesty and piety, were pledges of 
 his faithfulness as a friend. He adhered to his Mas- 
 ter, when the rest failed. His attacliment seems to 
 have been such, as danger could not dismay, nor 
 adversity interrupt, nor any thing destroy. To whom, 
 indeed, but to one, whose known fidelity furnished 
 ground for the most entire confidence in him, would 
 the Saviour have connuitted the b(;loved mother whom 
 he had honoured in life, and was about to leave in the 
 world, pierced through with many sorrows. " When 
 Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple standing by 
 whom he loved, he saith unto his mother. Woman, 
 behold thy son! Then saith he to the discii)le, Behold 
 thy mother!" What an expression of confidence! 
 What a tribute to the Evangelist's worth! Who can 
 forbear to envy the discii)le this testimony of his Lord's 
 regard ! His subsequent conduct, verified all that has 
 been said ol his amiableness, and fidelity ; for transfer- 
 ring his afi'ection for his Master, to the object who 
 was dear to him, and scrui)ulously obedient to his 
 wishes, he " from that hour took" the disconsolate 
 mother " to his own home." 
 
 Many were the trials and sufferings, to which he was 
 exposed after his Master's ascension. But, with a 
 firmness of faith, which neither crosses, nor exile, nor 
 the boiling cauldron, nor all that angry power threat- 
 ened could bend, he maintained the religion of Jesus; 
 writing a gospel, that it might be preserved in its in-
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 187 
 
 tegrity, and ready, at all times, to seal it with his 
 blood. In short, he merited not less by his character 
 and conduct, than by his office, the title with which 
 his name has descended, of " the Divine." Amiable, 
 modest, enlightened, benevolent, devout, ardent in his 
 attachment, pure in his affection, capable of confi- 
 dence and fidelity, he appears to have been formed by 
 grace, to be the bosom friend of Jesus Christ. 
 
 To this high privilege and happiness was he raised. 
 His sweet disposition, his amiable deportment, his 
 enlarged soul, his piety and purity, rendered him more 
 like his Master, than any other of the disciples, and, 
 aided by his ardent attachment and devoted zeal, in all 
 probability, procured him that place in the bosom of 
 Christ, with which he was honoured. It was not a 
 transient, nor superficial partiality, which the Redee- 
 mer felt for him. It was an union of his heart with 
 the disciple's whom he loved. That this happy 
 favourite was admitted to intimacies, and enjoyed in- 
 dulgences of the most endearing nature, is evident from 
 Peter's beckoning to him, to obtain an answer to the 
 solemn question, which all feared to ask. He occu- 
 pied the place of honour, and leaned in the posture of 
 innocent affection, upon Jesus' breast, when they were 
 together. He was one of the chosen three, whom 
 Christ took with him to the interesting scene of his 
 transfiguration on Tabor, and to the tremendous scene 
 of his agony in the garden. To him, as we have no- 
 ticed, was committed the dearest pledge which Christ 
 left on earth, in the most affecting hour of his earthly 
 existence. And it was he, who was honoured with 
 those mysterious revelations, which wrapt in their 
 wonderful folds, all the purposes of God towards his 
 Church. As if his character and qualities, rendered 
 him peculiarly fitted to recommend the gospel to the 
 world, he was continued on earth, long after all his 
 fellow Apostles slept in the dust, and in compensatioo 
 for his long separation from his beloved friend, waj§
 
 188 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 favoured with visions, and divine communications, 
 and made the honoured instrument of singular service 
 in his cause. He is said to have died Bishop of Ephe- 
 sus, at the venerable age of an hundred years, exhibit- 
 ing to the last, that sweetness of disposition, and all 
 tliose estimable qualities, for which Jesus loved him. 
 There is a tradition in the Church, that a\ hen the in- 
 firmities of age forbad him to make long discourses, he 
 contented himself with repeating to those who heard 
 him, that great lesson of his Master, tlic new com- 
 mandment of the Christian scheme; " Love one ano- 
 ther." 
 
 Such was St. .John, whom, if it were permitted us 
 to desire tiie felicity in which another, better than our- 
 selves, was made ha|)py, the Christian might, perhaps, 
 with more i)ropriety envy, than any other being of the 
 human race, " the discijilc whom .Icsus loved." 
 
 From what has been said, we may learn, in the first 
 place, that our religion is not hostile to those precious 
 pleasures, wliicli arc derived from individual friend- 
 shii). Our Lord had his particular friend. From the 
 circle of his disciples, he chose one congenial ))erson, 
 to whom he opened his bosom, and loved him with an 
 especial love. It did not interfere with that general 
 benevolence, A\hicli is due to all men. Fvery hunian 
 being, had a proper portion of his regard ; the claims of 
 none were overlooked ; all his extraordinary affection 
 for his friund, was a surplus of love. It was coinci- 
 dent with tiie inclination of feeling minds, to seek the 
 joys which friendship only yields, that, to have left it 
 unauthorized by his religion, would have been a great 
 disparagement. Unauthori/xd, did I say? May we 
 not say that, he has recommended it ? Is not his ex- 
 ample as holy as his precepts? ^^hat could have in- 
 duced him to prefer one course of virtuous conduct to 
 anotiier, but, to point out tlie way in which we may 
 enjoy the greatest happiness, and attain to the highest 
 degree of excellence of which our nature is suscepti-
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 189 
 
 ble? That a friendship such as religion approves fs 
 indisputably useful, precious, and oftentimes salutary, 
 is the advice on which we rely. Animating and pro- 
 motive of noble imitation are the excellencies of a 
 friend. How operative is respect for his opinion, in 
 restraining one from any tiling which his virtue would 
 reprove. How favourable is his sympathy, in the day 
 of sorrow, to our peace and resignation. That it con- 
 tributes to the hapinness of life, who needs be told? 
 It is a boon, wiiich every person can estimate. . Its 
 pleasures are confessedly the purest, and most exqui- 
 site, of any this side lieaven. We may not, therefore, 
 hesitate, I conceive, to believe that, the Saviour en- 
 courages by his example, to the cultivation of a virtue 
 so favourable to the happiness and improvement of 
 those, whom he delighted to guide into the paths of 
 bliss. And how amiable does he appear in thus enter- 
 ing into the feelings of men. What a commendation 
 does this give to his gospel. Surely, the religion is 
 sublime, and must have the happiness of men for its 
 end, which, while it inculcates an universal charity, 
 excludes not its disciples from the pure felicity of an 
 individual friendship, which multiplies all our jo)'s by 
 sharing them, and, by dividing, lessens every woe. 
 
 But, to avail ourselves rightly of this liberty, we 
 nmst learn from our subject, what are the qualities, 
 for which we should look in those, whom we adn^it 
 to our closest intimacy. A good friend is not easily 
 found. The bliss of this treasure, is rarely enjoyed ou 
 earth. Led on by feeling; overpowered by good na- 
 ture; captivated with llattery; infatuated by some 
 single excellence, men often fall into such friendships 
 as are inconstant, as fortune smiles, and end in bitter^ 
 ness. Would you have a friend who will be sincere^ 
 and useful: whom you may trust to enter into yom* 
 bosom, and particii)ate all your thoughts; who will bt^ 
 faithful to your hai)piness; stand unaltered in his at- 
 tachment when adversitv assailjs you. and by his advictt,
 
 190 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 his sympath)', his example, and his tender reproof, be 
 to you a treasure beyond all price? Guard against the 
 malignant, the envious, and the immoral. Be not caught 
 with splendid vices. Seek the heart wiiicli is formed 
 to benevolence, and hallowed by religion's purifying 
 influence. The value of the accpiisition, will repay the 
 most active caution. To be secure from disappoint- 
 ment, choose such a character as "Jesus loved."' 
 
 Again. Wc may learn from the subject we have 
 contemplated, how we may, with certainty, obtain the 
 favour and approbation of our great Ixedeemer. To 
 please him, is surely our desire. If, as we have lately 
 commemorated, he left the bosom of his Father to visit 
 us for our salvation, to be indifl'erent to his pleasure, 
 must argue the basest insensibility. Now, we have 
 seen what the qualities were, which he .idmired in the 
 beloved discii)lc. He is unchangealjle in his aflVctions, 
 " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." What 
 once pleased him, he will always approve. To the 
 amiable virtues, which obtained John his appropriate 
 affection, he will always give his partial regard. Cul- 
 tivate, then, the kind and benevolent disposition, 
 which the gospel commends, and be ardent and faith- 
 ful in your attachment to your I^ord. Be meek and 
 tnodest; pure and devout; and the happiness, which 
 you envy the Evangelist, may be your own. 
 
 Once more. We may learn from the history of 
 .lohn, both chnrity and humilit)'. " Why callest thou 
 roe good," with unparalleled meekness snid Jesus 
 Christ, " none is good but one, that is God." And in 
 vain shall we look for perfection, in any of our friends, 
 or in any earthly being. What am 1 going to disclose 
 to you! Three times was the beloved disciple obnox- 
 ious to his kSavioui-'s reproof; when, influenced no 
 doubt, in some degree, though probably not only by 
 his mother, he sought to sit on the riglit hand of iiis 
 Master in his kingdom, and received the answer, "ye 
 know not what ye ask;" when, in an hour of passion,
 
 CHARACTER OF ST. Jt)HN THE EVANGELIST. 191 
 
 lie would have imprecated vengeance upon those who 
 did wrong, and was told, " ye know not what manner 
 of spirit ye are of;" and in the garden, when, during 
 the agony of his Master, alas, for the infirmity of oui- 
 nature! with Peter and James, John also fell asleep. 
 " The Spirit," said Jesus, '* is willing, but the flesh is 
 weak." Learn hence, not to exi)ect faultlessness iu 
 your fellow beings; and, especially, to bear with, to 
 cover, and to excuse the imperfections of your friends 
 Though Jesus had occasion thrice to reprove John, he 
 was, nevertheless, " the disciple whom Jesus loved." 
 " Admonish a friend, it may be he hath not done it;- 
 and if ho have done it, that he do it no more. Ad- 
 monish thy friend, it may be he hath not said it; and 
 if he have, that he speak it not again. Admonish a 
 friend ; for many times it is a slander, and believe not 
 every talc. There is one that slippeth in his speech, 
 but not from his heart; and who is he, that hath noi 
 offended with his tongue?" 
 
 8* 
 
 But, you are ready to say, if we could have been 
 partakers of John's privileges, we should, at least, be 
 happier, if not worthier of his Master's love. And this 
 leads me to observe, finally, that of the peculiar privi- 
 leges, with which the beloved disciple was blest, we 
 may virtually partake. Would you be witnesses of the 
 scenes, to which the choscin three were admitted? On 
 the wings of faith you may ascend the heavenly Tabor, 
 and contemplate the glory of your Lord, and Moses, 
 and Elias, the Fathers and t|je Prophets, there talking 
 with him. In the hour of meditation, you may go 
 into the garden, and ponder the agony which your 
 Redeemer sustained, with better intelligence, and live- 
 lier concern, tlian they possessed, whose eyes, because 
 of the hour, and the fatigues of the day, and the powqj 
 of darkness, were unhappily weary. Is it the happi- 
 ness of "leaning on Jesus' bosom," that you desire? 
 Of this you may, in some degree, participate, by cast- 
 >ijig your cares upon him ; by resting your spirit^- upoji
 
 192 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 his merits and intercession, when you are oppressed 
 with the consciousness of your weakness; and, by 
 pouring out to him in faithful confidence, your sorrow s, 
 your wishes, and your fears. But, perhaps, it is his 
 legacy which you envy the distinguished John. You 
 are ready to resolve, that your joys and faithfulness 
 would, be unspeakable, could you have had the mother 
 of Him who died for you, committed by her Son to 
 your care. Amazing wisdom of the economy of 
 Christ! Of this satisfnrtion, you may partake; of the 
 sincerity of tiiis resolution you may give evidence, by 
 bestowing your compassion and kindness upon any of 
 the members of his family, especially when, like his 
 bereaved parent, they are in aillliction, poverty, and 
 distress. For what is the record which " the Spirit 
 of Truth" hath made? Hear the words, and engrave 
 them, as the sacred incitement to the best and most 
 profitable deeds of Christians, on the tablets of your 
 bosoms: " He stretched forth his hand towards his 
 disciples, and said, Behold my mother, and my bre- 
 thren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father 
 which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, 
 and mother.''
 
 SERMON LXm. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAB*: 
 
 n Peter, ii. 15. 
 
 Balaam^ the son of Bosor, who loved the ivages of un= 
 righteousness. 
 
 the course which the Church directs for publicly 
 reading the holy Scriptures, we are, at this period, 
 brought to a very interesting, singular, and instructive 
 piece of sacred history. The story of Balaam, attracts 
 our attention by the matter to which it relates, the 
 ancient customs with which it is interspersed, and the 
 strangeness, and wickedness of his conduct, whom it 
 more particularly exhibits to our view. In this cele- 
 brated divinen', we behold ap extraordinary mixture of 
 just sentiment, with perverse practice; right appre- 
 hensions of God, with direct opposition to his will; 
 Y,OL. u: 2B
 
 194 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 seeming piety and inspiration, with diabolical pur- 
 poses, and dis;?raceful instability. It is a character, 
 necessary to be studied; not only that we may derive 
 instruction from it, but, also, that we may perceive the 
 justness of the censure, passed upon him in the gospel, 
 and not be led, by the occasional appearance of pro- 
 priety in his expressions and behaviour, to think him 
 less criminal than he is represented. For so wise and 
 prudent, so pious and just, does he seem to be in par- 
 ticular passages, that the cursory reader may be ready 
 to exclaim : Wherefore is he blamed ; how cautious 
 his steps; how sublime his visions! Examination is 
 necessary to understand his character. When we 
 have well observed it, we shall be struck with its in- 
 consistency and baseness; and wonder, that he ever 
 possessed a virtuous sentiment, or cherished a holy 
 habit in his bosom. To mark it, as it opens upon us 
 in the sacred narrative; to trace its peculiarities to 
 their cause, and to show its awful termination, will be 
 leading objects of this discourse; in which, we will 
 take the inspired Peter for our monitor, and rely upon 
 thee, thou " Author and giver of all good gifts," for 
 assistance, and an improving blessing. 
 
 The occasion of Balaam's being introduced, was the 
 arrival of the Israelites upon the plains of Moab. 
 Dismayed by their numbers and fame, by the wonders 
 which had marked their footsteps out of Egypt, and 
 the destruction which they poured upon their foes, 
 and particularly by their recent, terrifying conquest of 
 the Amorites, and powerful King of Basan ; tiie JMo- 
 abites trembled at their approach. They consulted 
 with the eldei-s of Midian, about the common safety, 
 and their mutual communications were a striking ac- 
 complishment of the prediction of Moses, that the 
 nobles of Edom, and mighty ones of Moab, should be 
 dismayed by the greatness of the divine arm, in deliv- 
 ering his people.
 
 CHARACTER OP BALAAM. 195 
 
 Something was to be done, for defence against this 
 mighty company which devoured all before it, " as the 
 ox licketh up the grass of the field." It was an inir 
 portant part of ancient warfare, to seek the influence 
 of the gods, and imprecate the foe. In the Greek 
 and Roman classics, there are traces of this custom ; 
 and it appears to have been prevalent among most of 
 the heathen nations. They were wont, before going 
 to battle, to endeavour, by sacrifices and oblations, to 
 enlist on their side, their own and foreign gods, and 
 by the imprecations of some priest, or magician, to 
 devote the enemy to destruction. Being a worshipper 
 of Chemosh^ and credulous in these vain superstitions, 
 it was the first care of the King of Moab, to send for 
 a diviner to " curse the people." He hoped that, 
 thus, with the aid of his sword, he should be able to 
 prevail ygainstthem, and drive them out of the land. 
 
 Accordingly, messengers were sent, with the pre- 
 sents which were customary on such occasions, to 
 Balaam, the son of Bcor, or Bosor, a cclcbiatcd divi- 
 ner, who dwelt in Mesopotamia, to invite him to 
 Moab on this absurd business. From all that W(* can 
 learn of Balaam, it appears, that he was an acknow- 
 ledger of the true God. In many parts of the heathen 
 world, there were instances of persons, who, though 
 they were not Israelites by birth, or profession, gather- 
 ed from the rubbish of Paganism, some decaying frag- 
 ments of the knowledge, which was diftused through 
 the world at the dispersion from Babel, and, in various 
 ways, renewed by the economy of divine Providence ; 
 which fragments, furnished them with an imperfect 
 sentiment of the one, supreme, eternal, Being. As it 
 was in this part of Mesopotamia, that Abraham dwelt 
 before his removal to Canaan ; and here, that Jacob 
 and most of his sons, once had a residence, it is less 
 surprising to find here, some traces of true religion ; 
 some inconstant remembrance of the true God. Be 
 this as it may, it is certain that, we find Balaam speak-
 
 196 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 ing of the Lord Jehovah as his God, and acknowledge 
 ing his supremacy over the minds and afl'airs of men. 
 There is, also, reason to suppose, that he was one, to 
 whom the Most High had vouchsafed to make some 
 special communications. He had clear notions of 
 being met by God; felt a confidence which must have 
 been grounded upon past experience, that when he 
 should inquire of Jehovah, he should obtain a revela- 
 tion, and, indeed, is expressly styled a Prophet, in the 
 context, and other parts of the sacred volume. It 
 would seem, too, from some of his expressions to 
 Balak and his messengers, that he had a sense of tlije 
 supremacy of the divine will, and of his obligation to 
 observe God's commands. Such is the fair side of 
 Balaam's character; an acknowledger of the true 
 Gml, admitted to the privileges of a Prophet, and blest 
 ■with a Just view of the paramount authority of the 
 divine requirements. How promising the appearance. 
 Who would not expect in hlin, a blameless conduct? 
 But, alas I 3iul instance of tlie corru[)iion of our na- 
 ture, and of the ease w ith which vice, when it is fos- 
 tered in the bosom, undermines the power of truth 
 and virtue, we shall presently find him, abandoning his 
 God, his character, and duty, for his pride and covet- 
 ousness ; and, to gratify these insatiate passions, prov- 
 ing a traitor to every good feeling, and a patron of the 
 basest iniquity. 
 
 But why, it may here be asked, did not Balak seek 
 a diviner among the worshippers of his own gods? 
 Why did he send for one to Mesopotamia, and for one 
 who acknowledged the God of his enemies? This 
 has, by some, been explained by the supposition, that 
 he believed the strength of the Israelites depended on 
 the power of their God, and that Balaam would induce 
 him to withdraw his inlluence, or turn it against them. 
 Shocking, as this notion may appear to us, it may 
 have been entertained by Balak. So lost were the 
 heathen idolaters to all just appreheik;ions of the
 
 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 197 
 
 Deity, that they readily believed the friendship of the 
 gods might be Iwught with sacrifices and honours. 
 We may find the Romans, once and again, most 
 solemnly employed, when making an attack upon a 
 city, to induce its tutelar deities to abandon it, and 
 become the friends of the besiegers. Balak, may have 
 adopted similar notions, and from the same principles, 
 have called Balaam from the mountains of the east. 
 
 It is not, however, absolutely necessary to resort to 
 this supposition. Balak ujay have been influenced by 
 the greatness of Balaam's fame, to prefer him before 
 any other diviner. That his reputation as a sooth- 
 sayer was renowned, and that the King of Moab had 
 great confidence in it, is evident from the language in 
 which he addressed him: " 1 wot, that he whom thou 
 blessest, is blessed; and he, whom thou cursest, is 
 cursed." Either he had formerly prophecied only as 
 he was authorized by his God, and the unfailing fulfil- 
 ment of such predictions had acquired him renown; 
 or he had been led by his covetousness to abuse his 
 office, and, taking advantage of the reverence for 
 astrology in the country, in which he dwelt, had be- 
 come eminent among those who used curiolis arts, and 
 prophecied for gain. 
 
 We are sorry to find, in returning to the narrative, 
 that this last conjecture is the most probable. The 
 messengers arrived, delivered their errand, and were 
 ordered to tarry all night, that he might consult with 
 the Lord. The Most High anticipated the Prophet, 
 and demanded who the men were that were come to 
 him. Upon his relating the facts, he received these 
 plain and positive instructions; "Thou shalt not go 
 with them; thou shalt not curse the people; for they 
 are blessed." Whether he was to be blamed, for 
 hearkening at all to the request and proffers of Balak, 
 as some have supposed, or not, thus much is indisputa- 
 ble, he had now a clear knowledge of the divine will, 
 'dn.6, unless he l)elieved God to be variable, or estecQjj^d
 
 198 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 gain better than obedience, should have, henceforth^ 
 held no further communications upon the disapproved 
 subject. 
 
 The answer, imperfectly reported to Balak, pro- 
 duced in him only the opinion, that the temptations he 
 had ofTered were not sufTiciontly great, and he imme- 
 diately dispatched a more noble embassy, with richer 
 gifts, and unlimited promises. His pride elated, and 
 his covetousness inflamed, Balaam looks upon the 
 honours and wealth which ho mi^ht acquire; and 
 doubts, whether he may not be indulged. How fatal 
 is the first hesitation of virtue. He who turns not 
 instantly from vice, but stops to view her baits, and 
 listen to her charms, gives himself to danger, and will 
 generally be ensnared. She is like the wily serpent, 
 which, if he once catch the eye of the unwary bird, 
 rivets it to himself, and, with well guided glances, 
 infatuating the poor victim, lures it to a nearer and 
 nearer approach, till, imabie any longer to withstand 
 the action of the fascinating spell, it rushes willingly 
 to irresistible destruction. How fortunate for Balaam, 
 if he had, at once, refused to listen to the proposals of 
 these messengers from Balak. He knew the divine 
 will was opposed to them. " Thou shalt not go; the 
 people are blessed," could hardly have ceased to sound 
 in his cars. Why, then, does he tamper with the 
 profl'ers of iniquity; why stand a moment on forbidden 
 ground? His heart is set upon the wealth of JMoab, 
 and the obeisance of its princes; and, though ac- 
 (juainted already with the will of the Almighty, he 
 desires the messengers to abide all night, hoping that 
 it might be changed. How afiVontive this presump- 
 tion! How dishonourable to the holy and inunutable 
 God ! What wonder that the Deity was almost, ready 
 to leave the headstrong man to his way, and since he 
 preferred his own wishes to his Maker's will, bade 
 him follow his inclination if he pleased. This is the 
 import of the Almighty's words. The permission he
 
 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 199 
 
 received to go, was rather a merited abandonment to 
 his own guidance. But he feels not the awful nature 
 of this abandonment. He rashly resolves to follow his 
 desire. Though slow to comply with the mandates of 
 infinite wisdom, nothing can surpass his obedience to 
 the passions of his own bosom. He rises early in the 
 morning, sa^ldles his ass, and is immediately on the 
 road to Moab. So voluntary a disregard of his known 
 pleasure, in one so favoured and well informed, ex- 
 cited, Justly, the anger of the Most High. Still, with 
 parental solicitude, he went out to check him in his 
 course. He stood in the way, in the person of his 
 Angel, with a brandislied sword, to imi)ede his career. 
 But, intent only ui)on reaching the place, and gaining 
 the promised rewards, he saw not this minister of 
 mercy and judgement, till " the dumb ass, speaking 
 with man's voice, forbad the madness of the Prophet." 
 It is the curse of covetousness, that it cramps every 
 expansive effort of the mind, and petrifies the heart. 
 When it is united with pride, cruelty is always the off- 
 spring of the pair, and, frequently, the associate of its 
 parents. Twice had the harmless beast, on which 
 Balaam rode, turned from tiie path of danger, and 
 twice, with cruel and more cruel blows, been forced 
 back. Brought to a situation in which she could nei- 
 ther turn, because of the narrowness of the way, nor 
 advance, because of the angel, she fell to the ground 
 beneatii her impatient rider. Enraged and blind, he 
 beats the faithful beast, with unrelenting blows, and, 
 instead of having his passion cooled by her sufferings, 
 wishes only that " there were a sword in his hand, that 
 now he might kill her." How seldom is one evil 
 passion alone in a bosom. How awful is any one at its 
 height. When several are raging at the game time, 
 what will they not make of man. How fallen is 
 Balaam from the divine image in which man was cre- 
 ated. How unlike the mercifd God. And who 
 fOuld expect tender mercies to his beast, from one.
 
 200 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 who, to gratify his covetousness and ambition, was* 
 posting gladly to a distant i)Iace, to devote, as far as in 
 him lay, a whole nation of fellow men to destruction. 
 
 God, hath a care for all his creatures. He who 
 maketh the " ox to know his owner," and teacheth 
 "the swallow the time of her coming;" he who 
 formed man's mouth, and confounded ail speech at 
 Babel, he, even the Almighty Lord of all creatures, 
 espoused the cause of the injured beast, and gave her 
 power to utter her comi»laint, and, at the same time, 
 opened the eyes of the rider to his danger and folly. 
 At sight of the Angel, he fell ; and heard how he owed 
 his life to the animal he had so inhumanly abused. 
 " Unless the ass had turned from me, surely now 1 liad 
 slain thee, and saved her alive." 
 
 Surely, the Prophet will now see the folly of hi^ 
 conduct. Surely, he will immediately return to his 
 home. Surprising perseverance! We hear no such 
 resolution; wc see no gratitude for his i)reservation, 
 nor any returning stei). There is nothing but a decla- 
 ration of his readiness to go back, couched in such 
 terms as express his willingness to go forward. " If 
 it disi)leasc thee." He knew it was displeasing. This 
 was ccpii vocation with the Almigiit}. It is true, the 
 Angel said, " go." Dur, it was such a permission, as 
 would have affected any good man like a prohibition. 
 "The word only which I shall speak, that shalt thou 
 say." Balaam knew that this word had pronounced 
 the people blessed, and was immutable, and, there- 
 fore, might have seen that his perseverance must be as 
 vain, as it was disobedient. But passion is always 
 unreasonable, and generally bbud. It sees no obsta- 
 cles, or thinks it can surmount them all, and thus im- 
 ])els its victim to danger and destruction. Now that 
 Balaam alter all tliat has been said, and done by the 
 Most High, is eagerly intent upon following his own 
 will, and neglecting his Maker's, the Deity justly gives 
 frim up to himself, and he must abide thy consequences.
 
 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 201 
 
 The threatening Angel, most dreadful omen to the 
 evil man, the threatening Angel is removed from his 
 path. His covetousness resumes the empire of his 
 bosom. With renewed ardour he pursues his way to- 
 wards Moab, to disappointment, mortification, iniquity, 
 and ruin. Here we shall, for the present, leave him, 
 and this afternoon, conclude our remarks on tliis inte- 
 resting and instructive portion of holy writ. 
 
 VOL. u. 26
 
 SER]\ION LXIV. 
 
 — ^o^— 
 
 ON THE CHARACTf:R OF BALAAM. 
 
 H TeteB, i* 15. 
 
 Balaam, the son of Bosoi, who loved the wages of un- 
 righteousness. 
 
 J.N the course of our remarks this morning, on the 
 character of Bahiani, we endeavoured to show that 
 covetousncss was the rei^nim; vice in his heart, and 
 that his disobedience to the known will of Cod, was 
 the effect of his inordinate desire of worldly gain. Our 
 observations brought us to the very interesting scene 
 between the Ass and the Prophet, and we left him 
 pursuing his way towards Moab. We now proceed 
 with the sacred story. 
 
 Arrived at Moab, Balaam was met and welcomed 
 by Bnlak, and brought to the royal city. With the
 
 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 203 
 
 princes of the country, he was invited by the king to a 
 religious ceremony and feast, and on the morrow after 
 his arrival, they entered upon the strange business for 
 which he had come. The heathen nations had, most 
 of them, " high places" consecrated to their gods. 
 They had, generally, upon them thick groves, as suited 
 alike to their meditations, enchantments, and lewd- 
 ness. To " the high places of Baal," the king brought 
 his diviner, from which he might take extensive views 
 of " Israel, abiding in his tents." Here was a baser 
 apostacy. It is painful to behold the Prophet blending 
 the odious superstitions of the heathen, with the wor- 
 ship of the Most High ; building " seven altars" to the 
 Lord Jehovah, upon the polluted eminences of Che- 
 mosh. Yet, with all the effrontery of a man resolved, 
 at any hazards, to accompUsh his purpose, he retires 
 from this mockery of devotion to meet God, and pro- 
 claims pharisaically, " I have prepared seven altars, 
 and I offered upon every altar, a bullock and a ram." 
 In the Person of the Uncreated Angel of his Presence, 
 the Deity appeared to him, and, therefore, it is said, 
 " the Lord met Balaam, and i)Ut a word in his mouth." 
 Having received injunctions what to say, he returned 
 to the Moabites, and found them still engaged in tlieir 
 profane services. With eagerness they listened, and 
 with disappointment heard. He declared his in- 
 ability to do as Balak desired ; and, actuated by fear, 
 or divine impulse, instead of cursing, greatly blessed 
 the people. 
 
 Here, one would think, all parties would have de- 
 sisted ; and from the sentiment with which Balaam 
 closed his parable, would suppose he had returned to 
 wisdom and to duty. Mindful of the honours heaj)ed 
 upon good old Jacob's head; struck by the blessings 
 entailed upon the posterity of the righteous; and con- 
 vinced of the immutable love and care of the Almighty 
 for the godly, the long relaxed chords of virtue seemed 
 to recover tone, and he could not help exclaiming,
 
 204 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my 
 last end be like his." An exclamation worthy of the 
 noblest mind. But with sound principles, and just 
 sentiments, the slave of passion will often exhibit a 
 most blameahle conduct. He is drawn, or driven to 
 act against his judiiemcnt. He wishes to *' die the 
 death of the righteous," yet, he lives the life of the 
 Avieked. Still hoping a change in the divine will ; 
 still anxious, by every exertion, to satisfy Balak: still 
 unA>iHing to lose " the wages of unrighteousness," the 
 mad Proi)het suffered himself to be carried from place 
 to idace, among the high mountains of Baal, ofl'ering 
 upon Pisgah and Pcor, and on every i)olluteil hill, the 
 same heterogeneous, ai)ominai)le worship; as if the 
 mind of the Almighty were not the same in all places, 
 and could be altered by the dilVerent views which 
 were taken of the people I *' Ciod is not a man, that 
 he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should 
 repent, llath he said, and shall he not do it; or hath 
 he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" He had 
 selected this people for a blessing, and there could be 
 '* no enchantment" nor " divination against Israel." 
 Balaam was every time, sent back to his employer, 
 with a declaration of the hap|)y destiny of God's peo- 
 ple; and every renewed attempt to obtain a curse, 
 was answered by new and sublime visions, which re- 
 vealed greater, and yet greater glories, which should 
 vest upon Israel. 
 
 Though it falls not within our design, to notice, 
 l)articularly, the diflerent prophecies which enliven 
 and enrich this sacred story, it would not become us 
 to pass imnoticed that memorable prediction, which, 
 as the Prophet cast his eyes over the Israelites spread 
 upon the i)lains of Moab, he uttered concerning the 
 Tiedeemer of the world, m ho should come of that 
 neojile. There is something in it so sublime and 
 interesting, that I cannot resist the inclinatioji to ijitro- 
 diiec the remarkable pa^'^nge. " And he took up hi-^
 
 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 205 
 
 parable, and said, Balaam, the son of Beor, hath said, 
 and the man whose eyes are open, hath said; he hath 
 said, which heard the words of God, and knew the 
 knowledge of the Most High, which saw the vision of 
 the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his e5'es 
 o|)en: I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him, 
 but not nigh : there shall come a star out of Jacob, 
 and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel." "Out of Ja- 
 cob shall come lie, that shall have dominion, and shall 
 destroy him that remainetii of the city." Our minds, 
 at the repetition of these words, immediately are 
 turned to the Saviour at Jkthlehem, whose herald to 
 the Gentiles was a star, and to that dominion of his, 
 which is to be from "sea to sea, and from the rivers 
 to the ends of the earth." \Vhilc we admire the pro- 
 phecy, and rejoice in its fulfilment, how melancholy 
 the reflection, that Balaam, with the glorious vision 
 on his mind, was yet the slave of an idolater, and led 
 by passion to seek the ruin of the people, from whom. 
 Christ was to come! 
 
 But, to return to Balak. Anger now rages in hisv 
 bosom, and he vents it upon the minion whom dc had 
 seduced. " Flee thou to thy place. I thought to 
 promote thee unto great honour; but, lo, the Lord 
 hath kei»t thee back from honour." Such hath ever 
 been the artifice of vice, to represent the restraints of 
 virtue, as injurious shackles; the requirements of God, 
 as obstacles to great pleasure and felicity. But " hap- 
 py is the man that feareth always;" "the integrity of 
 the upright shall guide him." 
 
 Frustrated in his expectations, and upbraided by his 
 employer, what is the conduct of Balaam ? Is not 
 "the madness of the Prophet" wearied into reason ? 
 Oh, awful instance of the unreasonableness of passion. 
 There is no fixing limits to its extravagance. When 
 once it has attained a supreme influence in tiic bosom, 
 there is nothing into which it may not lead its victim. 
 Though disappointed in his desires, Balaam's heart is
 
 20G CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 yet intent upon its covetousness. He resolves to ob- 
 tain " the wages of unrighteousness" by a plot the 
 basest that ever man designed. Decency requires that 
 I conceal the stratagem. Snfiice it to say, that, unable 
 to alienate the Deity from his people, he resolved to 
 effect his purpose by seducing the people from their 
 God; and this diabolical design was to be accom- 
 plished by the sacrifice of every thing dear in one sex, 
 and honourable in the other. The Israelites were too 
 easily ensnared : and awful were the consequences. 
 The wrath of the Most High was brought ui)on them; 
 and a plague punished them severely for their initiuit.v. 
 The Moabites, however, reajjcd no advantage from the 
 sorrows of the pcoi)Ie. INIoses was ordered to march 
 against them. With rapid strides, and dreadful de- 
 struction, he marked his way; and, in the conflict 
 which ensued, the victim of his t)U u machination, 
 Balaam, fell, with the blood of jour ami twenty thou- 
 sand of the Lord's people upon his head; un|)iticd in 
 his death, and odious to all posterity. An e.\an)i)lc 
 this, of the veracity of that inspired and solemn aj)o- 
 thegm; " He, that being often re|)roved hardeneth his 
 neck, sliall suddenly be destroyed, and that without 
 remedy." 
 
 Vou have now seen, beloved brethren, the prin.ci|'al 
 l)arts of this sacred story; and the defects, and base- 
 ness of the person who is most conspicuous in it. It 
 is very full of instruction; but time will i)ermit me to 
 notice only two or three, of the most obvious remarks: 
 and it must be left to reflection to furnish the rest. 
 
 In the first place, we are taught in this narrative, 
 that clear principles, and even extraordinary gifts, if 
 they be not sanctified by divine grace, to the meliora- 
 tion of the heart and life, are no sure criterion of merit. 
 *• The manifestation of the Spirit is given to every 
 man, to profit withal." And he ^\ ho turns it to no 
 good end, would have been as well >a ithout it. In 
 Balaam, >\liat correctness of sentiment and extraordi-
 
 OHARACTER OF BALAAM. 207 
 
 nary favours do we behold. But, while he sees what 
 is right, and prefers what is wrong, where are his 
 claims to praise or reward. He is ranked with the 
 seed of evil doers, and suffers the retribution of his 
 accursed practices. 
 
 Again. This story forces upon our consideration, 
 Iiow dangerous are the hesitations of virtue ; the first 
 inclinations to deviate from the path of duty. If Ba- 
 laam had been governed by the dictates of conscience, 
 and resisted the first wishes of his fatal passion, ho 
 might have escaped his vexations and crimes, and been 
 blessed with the death he desired. But, once seduced 
 into the devious path, he coiihl not easily leave it, and 
 by proceeding, as is generally the case, he became lost 
 to all sense of duty, remonstrances of conscience, and 
 restraints of the divine Spirit. Check, then, the first 
 inclinations to evil. When the will of God is known, 
 wish it not changed. Do not equivocate with it a 
 moment. Suspect yourselves, with the most anxious 
 and vigilant observation, if, in pursuit of any object 
 whatever, you find a secret desire in your hearts, to 
 go contrary to the rule of God's commandments. 
 
 Finally. We are taught by the meditations of this 
 day, how deplorable is his situation who is left to the 
 i^npulscs of his own passions, and given up " fo a rep- 
 robate mind." Balaam's danger was never the great- 
 est, till he was permitted to do as he pleased ; and man 
 is never in so awful a situation, as when conscience 
 has ceased to remonstrate, and inclination is his only 
 ^uide. Oh! go not, my hearers, to that measure of 
 perverseness ; advance not to that degree of obduracy; 
 be not drawn, though tlie whole earth and all that it 
 contains, were the lure, into that willingness and de- 
 sire to sin, which may compel the Almighty to say 
 concerning you, " Ephraim is joined to liis idols, let 
 bim alone." Dreadful is the condition, and wretched 
 must be the end of that man, whom God has resolved 
 n\o longer to withstand in the way: to which he hath
 
 208 CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 
 
 been led persistinsly to wed himself by perverse incli- 
 nation, and unhallowed desire. Cherish, then, the 
 admonitions of conscience. Obey the restraints of the 
 Almighty. Discern, at a distance, the Angel in the 
 path. Turn from every unlawful pursuit, and allow 
 in yourselves no wish, or inclination to do otherwise, 
 than as God allows. At the suggestion of your own 
 bosom; at the solicitation of your companions; yea, 
 at the voice of an angelic being, who would intimate 
 that you are free from the restraints of holiness, and 
 may go contrary to the will of God, be terrified, be 
 alarmed. Let it hurry you back to the most entire 
 compliance with the will of the Most High. For how 
 can he be safe, whom God no longer keeps? How 
 can he be virtuous or happy, with whom his Father in 
 heaven has ceased tQ remonstrate.
 
 SERMON LXV. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 II Samuel, xvi. 15. 
 
 And Absalom, and all the people the men of Israel, 
 came to Jerusalem, and AJiithophel ivith him. 
 
 [E events of «cenes which are laid in the sacred 
 and tender relations of life, are always interesting, and 
 generally instructive. It is this, which gives the 
 Scripture narratives their unrivalled excellence. Un- 
 folding the fortunes and fate of a father, a son, or a 
 brother; a ruler or subject, a neighbour or friend, they 
 hold our attention by their applicability to our own 
 condition. Wc follow the intricate, and admire the 
 surprising ; we exult in the joyous and weep at the 
 Tragic ; we gaze at the monstrous, and recoil ifidignapt 
 VOL. ih 27
 
 210 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 from the base, because, of men like ourselves, the 
 ston' is related. 
 
 The history of the person, whom the text intro- 
 duces to your view, is among the finest pieces of the 
 Old Testament. It abounds with incidents, which 
 touch the tenderest feelings of nature, and occur in the 
 dearest relations of life; and is full of useful and im- 
 pressive instructions, to every serious observer. All 
 may contemplate with improvement, this inspired story 
 of the beautiful, accomplished, and brave, yet, base 
 and unhapi)y Absalom. 
 
 This renowned person, was the third son of David, 
 by Maacha, the daughter of Tnlmai, King of Cieshur. 
 He appears to have been remarkable for the graces 
 and beauty of his body, as well as for his illustrious 
 descent. " In all Israel there was none to be so much 
 praised as Absalom for his beauty; from the sole of his 
 foot, even to the crow n of his head, there was no ble- 
 mish in him." 
 
 He is first introduced to us by the sacred historian, 
 as avenging his sister's wrongs, by the murder of his 
 eldest brotlier. He was prompted to this deed, by a cri- 
 minality on the part of Anmon, unparalleled, indeed, 
 for horrible i)lackness, iu the whole records of vice. 
 But, for resentment even of the greatest wrongs, to 
 trample upon the sacred commands of (Jod, in his 
 anger to slay a man, yea with premeditated and decep- 
 tive malice, to slay a brother, discovers thus early, 
 that inconsiderate, unprincii)hd spirit, which strength- 
 ened with his age, and was the cause of his ruin. If, 
 however, no other effects of this spirit were known, 
 his youth, the precious nature of a, sister's fame, a 
 something irresistible in every bosom, would plead the 
 extenuation of his rashness; and, with blushing si- 
 lence, we should drop our tears over the dismal tale. 
 
 But it is seldom that a life, which is uncontrolled by 
 religious fear, is marked with only one criminal act. 
 There is an infatuating power in vice. One step be-
 
 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 211 
 
 vend the line of virtue renders another less difficult. 
 There is no trusting to self command, when the bar- 
 riers of duty are down. Of him, who is destitute of 
 those hallowed principles, which would restrain him 
 from the commission of every crime, there is no cer- 
 tainty that he will refrain himself from the commission 
 of any crime. Vice is rarely single in tlie human 
 heart. The man, who can be hurried by anger, to 
 murder a brother, will easily be induced by ambition 
 to dethrone a father. Amnon's blood was white on 
 Absalom's robes, in comi)arison with the spots which 
 afterwards defiled them. 
 
 Having fled because of his guilt, to Geshur, in 
 Syria, he abode tiiere three years, with the royal rela- 
 tions of his mother. Time had now soothed the 
 wound in David's bosom ; and, forgetting the dead, he 
 longed to embrace his living, his favourite child. His 
 servants perceivinii; the tender anxiety which filled his 
 heart, contrived, by an ingenious stratagem, to obtain 
 permission to bring the beloved fugitive back to Jeru- 
 salem. And " Absalom returned to his own house." 
 Awful was the sentence of the law, which, as the 
 minister of justice and of heaven, the king was, per- 
 haps, obligated to have executed upon the offender. 
 It was important, too, to the virtue of his people, and 
 to the reputation of his government, that he should not 
 be supposed capable of conniving at crimes, even in 
 his own offspring. Therefore, though his son was not 
 punished according to the severity of the law, he was 
 not permitted, for two years after his return, to behold 
 the face of his father. This was vexatious to the 
 pride of the young prince. Through Joab, he remon- 
 strated to the king, who then received him into his 
 presence, and bestowed on him the kisses of affection 
 and forgiveness. 
 
 One would suppose, that henceforth, we should see 
 nothing, but filial reverence, and a virtuous life, in this 
 hitherto careless character. Surely, Absalom, it will
 
 212 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 now be thy chief concern, to cheer the declining age of 
 the parent, whom thou hast so sorely grieved, and to 
 atone, by the regularity of thy future deportment, for 
 thy past misdemeanors. Alas, how slender are our 
 hopes of those, in whom the religious principle has no 
 place! How terrible is the jirogress of the wicked, 
 who have once given the reins to their will, and follow 
 the guidance of their evil imaginations! Restored to 
 favour, this unprinci|)led young man uses the riches of 
 jiatcrnal bounty, in procuring the gratifications of vain 
 desires, and the attendants, force and equipage, which 
 may add strength to his subtilty when he shall need it. 
 The heir presumptive murdered, and his intervening 
 brother dead, he aspires to the kingdom ; and, elate 
 with his personal charms and interest with the people, 
 fancies he can better manage its interests, than the old 
 king by whom it has so long been governed. With 
 mad ambition, he resolves to depose his fond, and 
 venerable parent, from the throne. ^VitIl worse than 
 mad ambition, ^^ itii the vilest, blackest treachery, he 
 plots his father's disgrace and destruction. 
 
 But how is it possible? Surely, the people will 
 cleave to the good king, to whom they owe such vic- 
 tories and iirosperity? This vicious, inexperienced 
 man, will no\cY be able to drive the renowned David 
 from his throne. So it should seem to sober rellec- 
 tion; but experience will tell us, it is no diflicult task. 
 The breath of |)opular regard, is varying as tlie wind. 
 The multitude are ever open to complaint, and fond of 
 change. Absalom has already some interest with the 
 people, and with the cunning of his mind, and smooth- 
 ness of his address, he may first blind, and then lead 
 them as he pleases. Observe the artifice he used. 
 " And Absalom rose up early, and stood beside the 
 way of the gate; and it was so, that when any man 
 that had a controversy came to the king for judge- 
 ment, then Absalom called unto him, and said, Of 
 what city art thou.' And he said, thy servant is of one
 
 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 213 
 
 of the tribes of Israel. And Absalom said unto him, 
 See thy matters are good and right, birt there is no 
 man deputed of the king to hear thee. Oh, that I 
 were made judge in the land, that every man which 
 hath any suit or cause might come unto me, and I 
 would do him justice. And it was so, that when any 
 man came ni^li to him, to do him obeisance, he put 
 forth his hand, and took him, and kissed him." And 
 thus he " stole the hearts of the men of Israel." Vic- 
 tims to tlie delusion of api)earancc, they became a 
 prey to his designs, and verified, what the ^^ hole his- 
 tory of man attests, that the smooth guise of deceit, is 
 oftener tlie mean, by which bas(Miess accomplishes its 
 purposes, tiian the fair argument of reason, or the 
 rougii arm of violence. 
 
 When the passions are engaged in any evil pursuit, 
 and th.e mind has given itself to its attainment, there is 
 nothing at which it will slop. Truth or falsehood, 
 affection or enmity, piety or depravity is assumed by it, 
 with equal ease. The man, who permits himself to 
 depart from the path of rectitude, exposes himself to 
 be hurried into every species of inirpiity. Hebron 
 was the jilace, where Absalom had determined to 
 rally his forces, and assume his usurped authority. 
 It was necessary, he sliould assign some reason 
 for going there, and he scruples not to insult his 
 God, and use i)iety for his |)lea. He entreated his 
 father, that he might go to Hebron to offer certain 
 vows to the Lord, which he had vowed to jiay when 
 he abode in Geshur, " if the Lord should bring Jiim 
 again to Jerusalem." To such ignoble duplicity; to 
 such ruinous falsehood, must the man be driven, who 
 abandons the restraints of principle, and enlists in the 
 prosecution of an evil work. 
 
 We may be surprised to think, that in so short a 
 time, this daring youth should be emboldened to at- 
 tempt his enterprise. But, there are ahvays weak 
 men, to be the tools of such characters; and wicked
 
 214 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 men, to be their abettors. There accompanied liim 
 many, who, the narrative says, " went up in tlieir sim- 
 plicity, and knew not any tiling," and the subtle, 
 famous Ahithophel came from his city, to aid the un- 
 natural conspiracy. It was this Ahithophel, \a ho had 
 been the confidential counsellor of J)avid in his pros- 
 perity, and now joined liimscll' to his foe. It was this 
 Ahithophel, who persuaded Absalom to prostitute his 
 dignity, his virtue, and every noble feeling, to the base 
 accomi>lishment of his nefarious designs. It was he, 
 who could advise a son, to the most certain ways of 
 harassing, and destroying a father, and when he found 
 his counsels neglected, departed to his house " and 
 hanged himself" How often have such counsellors 
 become the victims of their own j)lots, and been left by 
 the awful judgement of God, to punish themselves for 
 their o\\n dei)rnvity. 
 
 liy the aid of this evil man, new followers of Absa- 
 lom were daily increased, and he succeeded so far, as 
 to compel the king to flee ^\ith his adherents from 
 Jerusalem. And here, there o|)ens upon us one of the 
 most alfecting scenes, which imagination can picture, 
 or conceive. A venerable monarch driven from his 
 city, in the evening of life; a city, whose i)rotector 
 and ornament he had been; driven Irom it, by his son; 
 by the son of his fondest indulgence; a son, whose life 
 he had spared, when it should have been taken for 
 justice, and who owed to him the strength and address 
 which he turned against him. Ill-fatid David! 
 How now returned to thy ear the Prophet's awful 
 denimciation; "the s\^ ord siiall never depart from thy 
 house!" With \n hat bitter remorse, didst thou review 
 the sin which brought all this evil upon thee. But he 
 bore his adversity like a good man. With meekness, 
 he kissed the chastising hand, and sustained all the 
 aggravating circumstances of liis calamity. " Carry 
 back the ark of God into the city," said he to Zadock ; 
 " if I shall find favour in the eyes of the Lord, he will
 
 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 215 
 
 bring me back again, and show me both it, and his ha- 
 bitation : but if he thus say, I have no delight in thee ; 
 behold, here I am, let him do to me what seemeth good 
 !Uito him." With sentiments like these, the grieved 
 parent left the city ; " and Absalom, and all the peo- 
 ple, the men of Israel, came to Jerusalem, and Ahi- 
 thophel with him." 
 
 With such designs, and counsellor, and leader, what 
 might we not expect from this posture of affairs. It 
 is happy, indeed, for men, that there is Deity, whose, 
 providence rules the events of life. By a wonderful 
 interposition, the counsel of Ahithophel, which would, 
 most probably, have been successful, was rejected, and 
 the advice of Ilushai, a friend of David, in disguise, 
 was unanimously ap|)roved. This shrewd person, ex- 
 horted him to assemble all his numerous adherents, 
 " and go forth with them in person to the battle." 
 Addressing himself to his vanity, he elated him with 
 an anticipation of glorious achievement, and delighted 
 the vain Absalom with the thought, that if his adver- 
 sary were " gotten into any city," his zealous army 
 would " bring ropes to that city, and draw it into tiie 
 river, until there was not a small stone left." 
 
 And now the time approached, when the Most 
 High would bring upon this wicked, rebellious son, 
 the vengeance which his crimes deserved. The ar- 
 mies entered the field ; and Absalom with his hosts 
 were defeated. Terrible was the slaughter among his 
 people. He took to flight. But, as he rode in his 
 haste through the wood, in which the battle was 
 fought, " his head caught hold of the thick boughs of 
 an oak, and he was taken up between the heaven and 
 the earth, and the mule that was under him went 
 away." Apprised of his situation, Joab hasted to the 
 place, and thrust him through with darts, and the ad- 
 herents of the king took down his body and cast it 
 into an ignominious grave. Unhappy end of an im- 
 i)rincipled lifeT
 
 216 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 You are, doulrtless, anxious to know, how the king 
 received the tidings of this extraordinary issue of the 
 ]>fittlc. AVords cannot express his grief. His parental 
 tenderness, the struss^es of nature, are so beautiful!} 
 described l)> the sacred historian, that I must give you 
 the scene in liis own words: 
 
 " And David sat between the two gates, and the 
 watcinnan went up to tiic roof over the gate unto the 
 wall, and lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold a 
 man ruiming alone. And the watchman cried and 
 loid the Kim;. And the king saiii, If he be alone, 
 there are tidings in his mouth. And he came apace, 
 and drew near. And the watchman saw another man 
 ruiming; and the watchman called unto the porter, 
 and said, Behold, anotiicr man running alone. And 
 the king said, He also bringcth tidings. And the 
 watchman said, IMelhinkelh the running of the fore- 
 most is like the running of Aliimaaz the son of Zadok. 
 And the king said, He is a good man, and comcth with 
 good tidings. And Ahiniaaz called, and said unto the 
 king. All is well. And he fell down to the earth upon 
 his lace, before the king, and said, IJlessed b(; ilie Lord 
 thy God, Vv ho hath delivered u|) iliemin that lifted ui) 
 (heir hand against my lord the kin::. And the king 
 said. Is the young man Abi>alom safer And Ahimaaz 
 answered, ^Vhen Joab sent thy servant, I saw a great 
 tumult, but I knew not what it was. And the king 
 said unto him. Turn aside, and stand jjere. And he 
 turned aside, and stood still. And, behold, Cushi 
 came; and Cushi said, Tidings, my lord the king; for 
 the Lord liatli avenged thee this day of all them that 
 rose up against thee. And the king said unto Cushi, 
 Is the young man Absalom safe? And Cushi an- 
 swered, The enemies of my lord the king, and all that 
 rise against th(.'e to do thee hurt, be as that young man 
 is. And the king was nnich moved, and nent U|) to 
 the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he wept, 
 he covered his luad. and cried, O. my son Absalom!
 
 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 217 
 
 my son, my son Absalom, would God I had died for 
 thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" Not the victory 
 over his enemies, nor all the gratulations of his friends, 
 could solace his sorrows for the melancholy fate of his 
 rebellious child. The utmost wickedness had not 
 exhausted his parental love. Like the Eternal Father 
 over our fallen race, his pity yearned over the misfor- 
 tunes of his son; and the profligate youth, as is gene- 
 rally the case, occasioned more grief at his death, than 
 he had done good in his life. 
 
 From this interesting story, which we have thus im- 
 perfectly contemplated, we may derive many usefuX 
 reflections. 
 
 In the first place, it teaches us all, and ospnrialb' the 
 young, the solemn importance of acquiring a control 
 over our passions and desires. These, if left to be their 
 own directors, may make us base; will make us mise- 
 rable. To what duplicity and rashness; to what bar- 
 barity and guilt; to what unhappiness and min, was 
 Absalom led by his ungoverncd anger and ambition! 
 It is probable, in the first determinations of his mind, 
 not half tlic wickedness into which he should be 
 drawn, was foreseen. A brother's blood ; a parent's 
 anguish ; perfidy and parricide, are objects, methinks, 
 at which the most monstrous nature would, at first, 
 recoil. But passion is an infatuating master. When 
 it has bent the man to the attainment of its object; 
 thought, mercy, duty, a parent's claims, God's posi- 
 tive commands, all fall before it. It makes a man in 
 its haste, what he would shudder to be, in the most 
 vicious moments of reflection. While we mourn its 
 elfects, in the beautiful Absalom, let us learn the wis- 
 dom, let us see the necessity, of early and steadily 
 bringing every thought of our hearts, under the disci- 
 pline of reason and religion. 
 
 The story further teaches parents, the solemn im- 
 portance of implanting and cultivating in their ofl*- 
 spring, those principles, which are the only sure itTe- 
 
 vor.. u. 28
 
 218 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 
 
 servatives from debasement and crime. Happy for 
 David, had he been more severe with his darling son. 
 Not that we plead tlie cause of justice, and chide tlie 
 weakness that spared liis life. For who can wonder, 
 that the arm was feeble \>hich should have been lilted 
 for the destruction of a child. But lie was evidently 
 too indulgent. It should seem impossible, that such 
 hypocrisy, treacl>ery, and cruelty, such a total destitu- 
 tion of moral feeling, could exist in a bosom, which 
 had early and proi)crly been formed, to the sensibilities 
 of virtue, and obligations of religion. The probability 
 is, that, delighted with the graces and accomjilishments 
 of his external form, he vainly doated on his beauteous 
 boy, and neglected to form in him the iirinciples of 
 truth and duty; the better beauties of a virtuous mind. 
 Sad were the fruits of his indulgence, and neglect. 
 Let i)arents learn from it, as they value their jjcace, 
 and their offspring's felicity, to consider good princi- 
 ples, and upright habits, as the best gifts they can be- 
 stow upon their children. 
 
 We may, tiiirdly, learn, from this history, the bar- 
 barity and odiousness of fdial disobedience. Who can 
 behold the good king, and " sweet singer of Israel,'' 
 driven in old age from his house and city, ;uid read 
 that, lie " went up barefoot, by the ascent of Mount 
 Olivet, and wept as he went ui)," without feeling his 
 bosom rise indignant at the monstrous son, who could 
 thus destroy a fond father's jieace I When we hear the 
 parent, unsubdued by the indignities of his child, say- 
 ing to the captains of his hosts, as they went forth to 
 the battle, " Deal gently for my sake, witJi the young 
 man, even with Absalom," who can help remarking 
 the strength and disinterestedness of the affection, 
 which lives in a parent's breast; and feeling the sa- 
 credness of the duty, which we owe to our fathers and 
 mothers! Well may filial ingratitude wear the stamji 
 of baseness in every clime. Justly does it deserve the 
 pointed displcasigre of the common Father of men.
 
 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 219 
 
 (J)bservc, what shame and wretchedness it brought 
 upon Absalom, and mark the source from which his 
 punishment came. " The Lord had appointed to defeat 
 the good counsel of Ahithophel, to the intent that the 
 Lord might bring evil upon Absalom." 
 
 Finally. We may learn from our subject, the folly 
 and danger of priding ourselves in the possession of 
 personal accomplishments, and external charms. We 
 see, in the case before us, that this may be joined with 
 all that is odious in nature; that they may conceal a 
 heart, and cover a disposition, which excite our abhor- 
 rence. Pride, too, in these exterior excellencies; in 
 the graces of person; or human accomplishments, is 
 apt to render men negligent of more solid and useful, 
 nobler and more permanent qualities. Had Absalom 
 thought less of his beauty, he would have thought 
 more of virtue. Had he trusted less to his cunning, 
 lie would have depended more upon his God. As if 
 to punish this foolish vanity, external endowments 
 when unaccompanied by the excellencies of the heart 
 and mind, are generally sources of misconduct, and 
 disappointment to their possessor, and often are the 
 causes of disgrace. Beautiful were the locks of Ab- 
 salom ; with pride he polled them every year, and 
 weighed the produce after the king's weight. But, alas, 
 vain youth ! He was caught in the tree by his flowing 
 hair, and the occasion of his pride was the instrument 
 of his ruin. Let every one, then, be induced to build 
 his complacence, only on the excellencies of an amia- 
 ble heart, and upright mind. Let us cultivate those 
 princii)les and habits, which shed a genuine, perma- 
 nent, and protecting lustre upon life. Let us seek the 
 glory which cometh from God only, and array our^ 
 selves in the beauty of that wisdom, in which we may 
 be truly lovely, v* hilc we are here, and " shine as the 
 >tars for ever and ever," in another and a better world,-
 
 SERMON LXVI. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN 
 EUNUCH. 
 
 Acts, viii. 39. 
 
 He went on his way rcjoiving. 
 
 J. HAT Providence is ever busy in promoting the 
 felicity of his creatures, is a srand and joyous truth. 
 The contemplation of it, as it is discoverrd in the 
 works of nature, pleases and consoles the mind. We 
 behold it with wonder and instruction, in the history 
 of elapsed time, and in the occurrences of life. The 
 little tales which elucidate it catch the attention ; and 
 when their heroes are renowned, or their events sreat, 
 they equally amuse and improve. The sacred Scrip- 
 tures, all w ritten for our benefit, abound with valuable 
 information clothed in this kind of garb ; and some of
 
 CIIARACTEn OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 221 
 
 the best instructions concerning the duties, and the 
 government of life, are to be collected frora their his- 
 toric records, of extraordinary persons and events. 
 One, most abounding with moral suggestions, most 
 evincive of the divine providence and goodness, and 
 most meet to be remembered and improved, is thaf; 
 concerning the blessed mortal of whom it is said, " He 
 went on his way rejoicing." Such an emphatic attri- 
 bution of happiness to a pilgrim in this vale of misery, 
 cannot but excite our curiosity, concerning the person 
 of wiiom it is asserted. Both social and self-love 
 must feel inquisitive about the source of his superior 
 fortune; and no humane bosom can be uninterested in 
 a story, whose close exhibits a fellow mortal in the 
 tranquil fruition of rational felicity. 
 
 It will be best, in order that we may profitably pe- 
 ruse the sacred narrative, 
 
 To know, in the first place, the character of this 
 favourite of heaven ; 
 
 Secondly, to examine the nature of his joy; 
 
 And, thirdly, to ascertain the way in which he ac- 
 quired such enviable satisfaction. 
 
 The Scriptures give us to understand that, the hero 
 of this tale was a man of Ethioi)ia, an eunuch of great 
 authority under Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, 
 who had the charge of all her treasures. It is most 
 probable, that this Candace, was a queen of the ancient 
 Island Meroe, appendant to the vast territory of Ethio- 
 pia, and famous, in Pliny, for female sovereigns bearing 
 the name of the princess here mentioned. The 
 Eunuch ai)pcars to have been high in her favour, and 
 to have possessed her full confidence. It is probable, 
 from the customs of the country, and from the circum- 
 stances of the story, that he was a prime officer of her 
 kingdom. It is evident, also, that he was one of 
 those whom the Jews denominated proselytes of jus- 
 tice, because they were converted from Paganism to 
 the Jewish faith. He might have been proselyted at
 
 222 CHARACTER OF THE tTHlUflA.N EUML'CH. 
 
 the period, wlien so many Jews were spread through 
 this distapt country, from Alexandria. Be this as it 
 may, he was evidently a believer in the Jewish reli- 
 gion, tor he " had come to Jerusalem to worship." If 
 greatness, therefore, can interest, or goodness aft'ect, 
 the character of this Ethiopian entitles him to atten- 
 tion. He was a man of hi^h station, and of extensive 
 influence; and was returning from Jerusalem, whither 
 he had resorted to discharge the sacred duties of devo- 
 tion. We fmd him returning home, with a mind sur- 
 charged with newly acquired bliss; and are here led 
 
 To examine, secondly, the nature of his joy. What 
 has this eunuch found, since he left the i)laee of his 
 residence, to render his excursion the most fortimatc 
 act of his life? With all the smiling placidness of 
 prosperity, he is on his way home rejoicing. Has he, 
 in business, found a lucky hour, and, by some kind 
 occurrence, obtained an aflluence t)f weaUh? J5y his 
 office, and the style in which he journeyed, he needed 
 no acquisition of property, aiul by the character of his 
 joy, it was more permanent than any u hich riches can 
 afford. Had he received the titles, distinctions and 
 plaudits of honour, and was he bearing to his ac- 
 quaintance the insignia of new glory.' He had been 
 among the Jews who were too selfish, readily to be- 
 stow their dignities upon strangers, and was going 
 among a people, who woidd \iew Jewish honours 
 with derision. Had he found in this strange land a 
 congenial soul, and was he exulting in the possession 
 of a friend, to share with him the comforts and the 
 cares of life? He was sitting in his chariot alone. 
 But do we know any sources of joy, independent of 
 all these which have been mentioned? The Ethio- 
 pian had become a Christian. It was not the treasurer 
 of Candacc; it was not the proselyte of Judaism, i)Ut 
 it was the disciple of Jesus, who " went on his way 
 rejoicing." This was the only change which had 
 been wrought in his circumstances, since he came frony
 
 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 223 
 
 home. It was tins, which was sufficient to give him 
 a folicit}', of whicli he did not know himself suscepti- 
 ble, and to disi)el darkness and disquiet from his mind^ 
 He had, indeed, found a rich treasure. He had re- 
 ceived an high honour. He liad met with an invalua- 
 ble friend. But they were not such as the world 
 denote by those names. The treasure, was the tidings 
 of the Messiah. The honour, was the initiation by 
 baptism into the family of Christ. The friend, was 
 the Redeemer of man. It was the acquisition of 
 these boons, which gave such i)leasure and satisfaction 
 to the eunuch's mind, as his station and endowments 
 had never yet afforded. As a man, he felt the neces- 
 sity of a Saviour, and was led, by the character of the 
 Most High, and the predictions of Prophets, to hope 
 for a deliverer, lint hitherto, he was ignorant of the 
 counsels of heaven, and i)erplexed by the " shadows of 
 things that were to come." Now, he had found in 
 Jesus, *' him of whom Moses and the Prophets did 
 write; a Saviour of sinners; a Redeemer of the world. 
 As a free agent, he had some perception of the excel- 
 lence of virtue, and some sense of moral obligation. 
 Bur, hitherto, his knowledge of duty was very imper- 
 fect, mid the unconquerable strength of vice, rendered 
 him the sport of delusion, or the victim of despair. 
 Now, his duty was made full evident; he saw the 
 dominion of sin broken; feeble virtue A\as encouraged 
 by promises of divine assistance, and he received assu- 
 rance, that if he did all he could, he should find ac- 
 ceptance and reward. As an inhabitant of earth, he 
 tnew the need of some sovereign balm to heal the 
 wounds, which he could not but receive in a world_, 
 where evils lay ambushed at every step, and every 
 rose which delighted was surrounded with thorns. 
 But, hitherto, no kind remedy had presented, which 
 would, in all cases, ease, much less effectually heal. 
 Now, he had found a physician, who could bind up 
 the wounded heart: cause the bones which were bro^
 
 224 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 
 
 ken, again to rejoice ; assuage the anguish of bereaved 
 affection; and bid pale, woe-worn sorrow, look up 
 and smile. As a creature, he had seen and felt that 
 he must die ; and his mind had felt anxious to pene- 
 trate the gloom, which, since the first human exit, had 
 enveloped death. But, hitherto, a few, faint glimmer- 
 ings, only, had quivered through the gloom ; as unde- 
 fined, illusory, and transient, as the gleamings of light- 
 ning through thick dark clouds. Now, the dismal 
 mystery is solved; where he feared dissolution, he finds 
 immortality; the darkness which surrounds the tomb, 
 appears as harmless and evanescent as the western 
 clouds, which conceals the reflex glory of the sun, 
 which, at its appointed time, has set to rise witii re- 
 newed lustre. These are the effects of Christianity; 
 effects essential to human tranquillity; effects, which 
 nothing but Christianiiy can i)r(Hlucc. When the 
 illustrious Ethiopian became a Christian, he viewed 
 life in a new light. His most anxious hopes were 
 confirmed. His most awful fears were quieted. All 
 the enigmas of his being, were solved, lie found an 
 antidote to every bane of felicity. " He went on his 
 way rejoicing." Surely, such a fortunate change in 
 his situation, was extracudinary ; and we will hasten. 
 
 In the third place, to ascertain the means which led 
 to the acquisition of such enviable satisfaction. In 
 this season of the year, w as one of the great holy 
 feasts, which the Almighty had commanded the Jews 
 to consecrate. As the Ethiopian was a proselyte of 
 the covenant, he felt it his duty to obey the commands 
 of the Most High, and, for no other jnirpose, than to 
 observe the hallowed time, he had come to Jerusalem. 
 Whataiesson; what a reproof for Christians! Though 
 not obliged to make tedious pilgrimnires; though each 
 one's Zion is within his town, how trivial circum- 
 stances will deter them from religious duties! How 
 lightly do they regard the Sabbath, and other ordi- 
 nances, of the JMostHigh! Yet, this Ethiopian re-
 
 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 225 
 
 linquishes the weighty business of office; leaves the 
 court of his queen, and the company of his friends, and 
 from Ethiopia, far distant, encountering the most in- 
 tense rays of the sun, and without prospect of any 
 other emolument, than the consciousness of having 
 done his duty, travels " to Jerusalem to worship." 
 Blush, Christian, blush; who, with all thy advanta- 
 ges, neglectest the institutes of thy religion ; or, at best, 
 consecrates but the one iialf of thy Lord's day! Hav- 
 ing finished his duty to his Maker, the eunuch returns 
 to discharge his obligations to his fellows. But he has 
 not forgotten, the imjjregsions which he received in the 
 sanctuary. His religion \\as not merely a formal 
 ceremeny, a senseless habit. Behold, us he returns 
 from Jerusalem, he is " sitting in his chariot and read- 
 ing the prophecies of Isaiah." Ye, whom fortune has 
 placed in the elevated stations of life; ye, who, with 
 the Prophets have their interpretation in the gospel of 
 Christ, look at this Ethioi)iaH; and, regardless of his 
 comi)lexion, venerate his worth. He seriously inves- 
 tigates the volume of truth. As he journeys. Ire car- 
 ries his Bible. Though in a chariot, he is perusing 
 the Scrii)tures. An example, which atfectingly satir- 
 ises many of the professeil disciples of Christ. The 
 divine Being, ever ready to aid the endeavours of the 
 humble and sincere, beheld and applauded the eunuch, 
 jiy special revelation, he commanded Philip to go 
 towards the country, through which the Ethiopian 
 would pass. His attention, directed, probably, by the 
 account he had had of the recent crucifixion of Jesus, 
 was fixed upon the prophetic description of the suffer- 
 ings of the Messiah. While he laboured to understand, 
 the Spirit bade Philip join himself to his chariot; and 
 he proved to the eunuch, from the passage he was 
 reading, and the other evidences of Christianity, that 
 Jesus was the Christ. The eunuch was convinced 
 and bai)tised ; and Deity vouchsafed a confirmation to 
 iiis faith, by taking Philip from him in a supefnaturat 
 ^0I.. IK 29
 
 226 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 
 
 manner. Thus, by being in the practice of virtue; by 
 studying the Scriptures, and by possessing a docile 
 mi.:d, was this worthy man led to see, and embrace, 
 the truth; and filled with the satisfaction, which 
 Christianity gives to the mind, " he went on his way 
 rejoicing." His happiness was not confined to him- 
 self. Through him, his country was blessed. By his 
 means, probably, the ancient prediction was accom- 
 plished, that Ethio[)ia should early stretch out her 
 hands unto God. The Abyssinians, say travellers and 
 geographers, to this day, venerate his memory ; and, 
 at every ministration of baptism, relate, witli pious 
 gratitude, the conversion of the Eunuch. 
 
 Thus, we have attended to all the circumstances ot 
 this interesting narrative. We learn from the story, 
 the blessedness of observing the ordinances, which 
 religion has hallowed; the usefulness of reading, stu- 
 dying, and investigating without discouragement, the 
 word of truth, the readiness of the divine providence, 
 to aid with his Spirit and blessing, the humble and 
 sincere inquirer, who uses the means which he has 
 appointed, the peace and joy whicii they have in be- 
 lieving, who have embraced the Messiah; and the 
 happiness of the country whose nobles and officers arc 
 taught of (lod. Let us, then, be instructed by the 
 treasurer of Candace, amidst the honours, the plea- 
 sures, and the avocations of life, to be mindful of 
 religion, hvl not our goodness be confined to the 
 temi)le, but when we have finished our devotions, let 
 us study the Scriptures. While we ponder their sa- 
 cred pages, let our hearts be humble, and our minds 
 docile, if, haply, the Spirit which blessed the Eunuch, 
 may open our eyes, and fill us ^^ ith his peace. " Thenj 
 that are meek, will he guide in judgement; and such 
 as are gentle, them will he learn his a\ ny." 
 
 Christian! Hast thou, too, found in Jesus of Na- 
 zareth, " him of whom Moses in the law, and the 
 Prophets did write;" one, "who hath borne thy
 
 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 227 
 
 griefs, and carried thy sorrows ; and by whose stripes 
 thou art healed ?" Hast thou hastened in baptism to 
 join thyself to him, and by this rite, which he ordained, 
 are thy sins washed away ; and thy interest in the pri- 
 vileges and hopes of his family assured thee ? Go on 
 thy " way rejoicing." There may be yet before thee 
 a long journey. It may be, thou shalt meet with some 
 trials by the way. But faithful and mighty is He who 
 hath promised, and is able to perform it. Let thy 
 hope, then, be strong; thy faith steadfast; thy life 
 pious and obedient to God, fulfilling all his ordinances 
 with a willing mind; and thou shalt descend into the 
 valley of " the shadow of death," " rejoicing with joy 
 ynspeakable" in God your Redeemer.
 
 SERMON LXVn. 
 
 ON THE CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 Acts, x 31 
 
 Cornelius^ thy prayer is heard, and thine alms are had 
 in remembrance in the sight of God. 
 
 Ji O know, and survey the characters of men, who 
 have stood foremost in events which concerned the 
 whole human race, is gratifying and instructive. The 
 mind feels a satisfaction in thinking, this was the 
 leader of the great occurrence; in him, first opened 
 the interesting scene ; and, if he were renowned for 
 good qualities, we look, to learn, as well as to admire. 
 If these be the sentiments of my hearers, they will at 
 once feel interested in the character introduced in the 
 text. What event more greatly important, than the
 
 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 2^ 
 
 breaking c3own of the partition, which separated one 
 people to the service and communications of the Most 
 High; what occurrence more interesting, especially to 
 us, who were not of God's people, than the admission 
 of the heathen, to share with the Jew, the richest re- 
 velation from the eternal mind. Of this great gift, it 
 was Cornelius who received the deed. First Gentile 
 proselyte to the gospel, our Abraham in respect to his 
 call, he stands conspicuous, and claims our notice. His 
 character, as given in the chapter from which tlie text 
 is taken, the blessing he received, and the instructions 
 rising from the subject, in\ite your attention, as calcu- 
 lated to unfold the essential nature of religion, with 
 some truths of special practical importance. 
 
 To keep the conquered Jews in orderly submission, 
 there were bands of soldiers stationed in different 
 parts of Palestine, under the Roman control. As 
 captain of one of these bands, gathered in Italy, and 
 eminent in profane history, Cornelius dwelt at Ca'sa- 
 rea, about seventy miles from Jerusalem. It appears 
 that, though an heathen, he had, from his intercourse 
 with the Jews, or in some other wa3', become a wor- 
 shipper of the Supreme Invisible Jehovah, without 
 subjecting himself to their rites, or feeling bound by 
 their laws. The sacred record styles him, " a devout 
 man;" an expression significant in the Scriptures, of 
 one who acknowledges the only true God, in distinc- 
 tion from polythcists and idolaters, and generally ap- 
 plied to those, who, as adorers of the same Lord, 
 without being admitted to circumcision and its conse- 
 quent privileges, are elsewhere styled " proselytes of 
 ^le gate." Convinced of the existence of one only 
 Almighty Being, he felt holy obligations, and che- 
 rished the principles, which flow from the relation of 
 that Being, to man, and the universe. 
 
 There are many men ; alas, they form too large a 
 part of our race ! who, though they believe in no other 
 God than the Lord, yet forget him; refuse his laws;
 
 230 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 feel not restrained by his government, nor presence, and 
 neglect those ser^'ices which, if he exist, and they are 
 intelligent, are their most solemn duty. Such was not 
 Cornelius. He feared the God, whom he acknow- 
 ledged with all his house. His belief in the Supreme 
 Being, was not a mere abstract notion floating in his 
 head. It entered his he^rt, and planted tliere, a reve- 
 rence for the divine character; holy emotions; an 
 ever-living desire to please him. His religion was i^ot 
 confined to his own breast. His family were kej-t in 
 habits of devotion, piety, and virtue. They were 
 made acquainted witli their Maker; they were assem- 
 bled at the altar when he sacrificed ; they were taught 
 the rules which he obeyed. Receiving religion as a 
 celestial guest, he introduced her into the family with 
 which providence had blest him, and made her a con- 
 stant resident therein. He "feared God with all his 
 house." 
 
 Various are the forms in which religion was clothed, 
 before the promulgation of the gospel. Strange, and 
 incongruous, have her appearances sometimes been, 
 among Christians. In one, she has been seen a cold, 
 retiring, spectre, placing her merit in her misery. In 
 another, a frantic, superstitious being, displaying her 
 divinity in immolating hu.iian victims, or counting 
 beads. Here, she has seemed a stupid, senseless form, 
 prostrate to a stock or stone. There, a fantastic, airy 
 enthusiast, consecrating whims, or living on reveries. 
 In some, a profusion of sympathies, and generous 
 deeds, has been exhibited as her form, while it has 
 been unanimated by one pious principle, or one spark 
 of holiness. In others, a i)iety, hallowing hours, ob- 
 serving seasons, and making many prayers, without a 
 smile of mercy for the penitent ofiender, or a tear of 
 compassion for the poor and the wretched. Strange 
 incongruities! Perversions of religion's name, to 
 cover constitutional frailties, habits of ignorance, 
 errors of education, selfishness, and pride. Religion.
 
 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 231 
 
 as she descends undisguised from above, is of plain, 
 cheerful and lovely, yet holy, firm, and dignified ap- 
 pearance. Would you see the outlines of her charac- 
 ter, the prominent features of her native excellence? 
 They claim your admiration in Cornelius. He " gave 
 much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway;" 
 that is, it was his delight and labour, to relieve the 
 wants of the needy, to sweeten the portion of the 
 miserable, to diffuse happiness among his fellow men ; 
 and in public, and iirivate offices of worship to God, 
 he was regular and frequent. Real benevolence, and 
 sincere devotion, ever go hand in hand. When each 
 grows out of the other, and both proceed from a re- 
 gard to the divine will, they form the sum and sub- 
 stance of religion. A man may " give all his goods 
 to feed the poor ;" he may mark, each minute of the 
 day, with some act of liberality; and yet, if he be 
 destitute of affection and piety towards his Maker, it 
 wants that principle, which gives benevolence its 
 worth ; it will be a hollow virtue, " a sounding brass, 
 or tinkling cymbal." On the other hand, though a 
 man rigidly observe all holy times; though he talk 
 much of God, and do no act, unsanctified with a 
 prayer, if he be destitute of regard for the happines5 
 of his race; if he "shut up his bowels of compas- 
 sion;" if the wishes and exertions of mercy and kind- 
 ness, have no cultivation in his bosom, his worship is 
 an imperfect service, unsatisfactory to the God of love. 
 (Jenevolcnce and devotion, charity and piety, united, 
 as they eminently were in Cornelius, discover the 
 man who rightly fearcth God ; and form the properly 
 religious character. 
 
 ►'^ In scenes of temptation, on lofty sites, or where we 
 look for vice, virtue has a more glorious, because a 
 more extraordinary appearance. The star which 
 breaks through the misty atmosphere, when all its fel* 
 lows have withdrawn their light, discovers, more 
 strikingly, the gloomine^ss of the scene, but is, itself,
 
 232 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 marked for its superiority. A good cliaracter, in a 
 corrupt circle, attracts the admiration of a melancholy 
 attention. The piety and virtue of Cornelius, are the 
 more pleasing, because of his station and office. A 
 soldier, born to the ambition and pride of a Roman ; 
 high in i)ower above his fellows; surrounded by the 
 allurements of the wealthy Ca'sarea, amidst a i)eople 
 strange, conquered, and resentful, he yet is humble, 
 devout, and charitable. How many would have 
 excused their piety with their office; how many their 
 charity, because the objects of it were hate fid Jews. 
 But, moved by none of these things, and correcting 
 that vanily, which assumes true goodness exclusively 
 to its own class, or thinks there arc stations in which 
 piety and benevolence never exist, we find " Corne- 
 lius, a centurion of the band, called the Italian band, a 
 devout man, and one that feared (Jod with all his 
 Iiouse, who gave much alms to the pco|)le, and prayed 
 to God always." Such a character can never fail of 
 love and respect. AVe are not surprised to liear his 
 domestics giving to the Apostle, the unilattering, cor- 
 dial testimony to his worth; that he was "just," and 
 "of good report among all (he nation of the Jews;" 
 so exemplariiy religiuiis, in iiimsclf and his family, in 
 a station so unaccommodated to \irlue, ^^e sjiould 
 naturally expect he would be an object of the special 
 favour of the Being, who views his creatures with one 
 common eye, and promises to honour them who hon- 
 our him. 
 
 If we proceed to the blessing Cornelius received, 
 we shall find it was conspicuoii>ly the case. The 
 divine Being, created man for felicity. By his fall, he 
 made himself obnoxious to instant destruction. Christ 
 intervened, and he lived. Early lie bci^an in the 
 hearts of some, the great and benevolent work, of 
 building up our ruined natu/e, into a pristine resem- 
 blance to the divine likeness. To eflect this restora- 
 tion in (ho soul of every m;ui.. was his mighty pur-
 
 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 233 
 
 pose ; and, " in every nation, he who feared God, and 
 wrought righteousness, did it bv his unknown Spirit, 
 and was through him accepted with the Father. In 
 Cornelius, we discover extraordinary attainments. 
 Benevolence and piety, the sum of the Saviour's prac- 
 tice and preaching, were large and thrifty in his bo- 
 som. They grew under the industrious use of the 
 means he had in his power, and the riches of the 
 divine Spirit rewarding his endeavours. He needed 
 but to know Christ to believe in him, as the Author 
 of all the progress he had mad€ in goodness, and of 
 all the hopes he could indulge. He wanted but this 
 belief, to be the Christian in name and deed. 
 
 To those, in whom Christ has, by his Spirit, dwelt 
 their invisible friend, he will, if he have been wel- 
 comed, in some way and time, be visibly manifested. 
 The gospel had been preached throughout Judea. 
 As was predicted, the Messiah had " come to his pwn, 
 and they received him not." It was, however, though 
 preached first to them, a revelation for the whole humaa 
 race. Now it was to be promulged to the Gentiles. 
 They were to be admitted to a full, and equal fruition 
 with the Jews, of the communications from the Eter- 
 nal; and Cornelius was destined to be the first, who 
 should realize this great behest. 
 
 Accordingly, at a time, when, with holy exercises, 
 he had disciplined his mind, and in humble prayer 
 sought the divine blessing, he was instructed by an 
 angel, sent to him from heaven, with the joyful assur- 
 ance in my text, to send for Peter, the great Apostle 
 of the Jews, and learn of him the will of the Most 
 High. He was not disobedient to the heavenly vision. 
 Peter, in the mean time, had the scruples of the Jew 
 removed, and his heart prepared to comply with the 
 Centurion's request, by an extraordinary revelation, 
 that in the gospel overtures, all nations under heaven 
 were included, and that he should, henceforth, call no 
 man common nor unclean. The messengers arrived: 
 
 vor.. ir. '^0
 
 234 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 tlie Apostle went with them, and was welcomed by 
 the Centurion and his friends. The foundation of the 
 Apostle's work was already laid, in the Centurion's 
 strong belief, and reverence for God; and his humble, 
 anxious desire, to learn how he might be saved. St. 
 Peter, therefore, opened to him the character of Jesus 
 Christ. He dwelt upon the miracles he had wrought, 
 in evidence of his authority. He related and explained 
 his crucifixion. He declared, and attested himself, the 
 mighty resurrection. He preached the consequent 
 consolatory doctrines of immortality, and future glory. 
 And he lastly, led his hearers to the revered Prophets; 
 showed that they all pointed to Christ; that in him, 
 all their wonderful predictions were singularly verified, 
 and that they unite their testimony with his own, that 
 " through his name, whosoever belicveth on him, shall 
 receive remission of sins." Standing in the presence 
 of God, and listening to the ministry of his word, ^^ith 
 meekness and fear, the mind of Cornelius was iilled 
 with that wisdom which is from above, and he cm- 
 Inaced, with full satisfaction, the " truth as it is in 
 Jesus." The Holy Spirit confirmed their faith, and 
 ratified this adoi)tion of the Gentiles. The Centurion 
 and his family, were, by baptism, incorporated into the 
 Church, and made heirs of all the hopes and pro- 
 mises, of the blessed gospel. 
 
 Would we estimate the honour of this acquisition r 
 Consider iiim and his family, as selected by the Eter- 
 nal, to be the first fruits to him of the Gentile world. 
 What, though St. Peter was called to account, for his 
 neglect of Levitical rules ! Cornelius was a seal of his 
 ministry, more valuable than fame or ease; and to the 
 Cejiturion, how ample the blessing, that he should be 
 the first heathen object of gospel favour. AVould we 
 estimate the worth of the acquisition ? Behold him 
 but imperfectly acquainted with his God. Conscious 
 of his sinfulness, he fasted. Dissatisfied with the 
 sacrifices of the Jews, and their legal i)urgation; con-
 
 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 235 
 
 sidering man as an enigma, and perplexed by those 
 doubts in which, to the best of heathens, the human 
 destination was involved ; he felt that something was 
 yet wanting to his happiness. He prayed; and God 
 vouchsafed to send his Minister, to declare to him the 
 glad tidings of salvation, through the blood of the 
 cross. He believed, and was happy. 
 
 We here see the reward from " Him who seeth in 
 secret," upon the prayer and the alms of faith and 
 love. Doubtless, the devotion of the Centurion 
 sought not observation. His deeds of benevolence 
 were often done silently and tenderly, uncovetous of 
 of fame. They all, however, rose as an offering to 
 heaven, and, received by the Angel, were presented to 
 the Almighty with the prayers of the Saints. They 
 fitted him for the blessing which they brought down 
 upon him; a blessing, whose value we have already 
 observed. For every Christian, uniting benevolence 
 and devotion in his character, and wearing them hum- 
 bly through life, an equal reward is prepared. If it 
 come not immediately, it is nevertheless sure. Not a 
 sincere petition is oflfered to heaven unheard; not an 
 act, not an intention of charity is unnoticed by him, 
 who enters the conduct of his creatures in his Book. 
 If they return not with a blessing, they remain with a 
 double blessing in reserve. They found a treasure for 
 lis in the land, where we are destined to dwell. It 
 shall give us happiness in the moment of death that, 
 hidden with Christ, we have this treasure there. 
 Many, I am sure, are hearing me, who scarcely tell 
 themselves the alms they do; many who always seek 
 in intercourse with the Most High, to honour and 
 serve him. Perhaps, to some of them, their deeds of 
 faith and charity, have not returned yet with the ex- 
 pected blessing. They shall find them after many 
 days. Look at the Centurion, and be assured that ye 
 shall be recompensed. The Angel of the Scriptures 
 says, with as much certainty as to Cornelius, " Thy
 
 "236 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 
 
 prayer is heard, and thine alms are had in remembrance 
 before God." 
 
 Again. From what has been said, we may remark 
 the excellence of family religion, and how surely it 
 obtains the smiles of heaven. In the family where 
 the Deity is reverenced; religion admitted in every 
 scene; and virtue welcomed as the worthiest attend- 
 ant; the natural fruits are order, peace, and love. He 
 who, like Cornelius in his domestic circle, cherishes 
 each sacred precept; raises each member to a know- 
 ledge and delight in the Invisible Protector; teaches 
 the younger their duty, and walks witii tl»e elder in 
 the paths of wisdom; lays a sure foundation for feli- 
 city. Whatever be the external condition of the fami- 
 ly, in which the princijjles of reli::ion, the graces of 
 benevolence and piety, are bit and cherished, whe- 
 ther the winds of adversity hou 1 around their dwel- 
 ling, or the sunbeams of prosperity shine constantly 
 upon it, there is, within, an household Deity, who 
 preserves order, and speaks peace. But if it were not 
 the natural tendency of domestic religion, to produce 
 domestic regularity and joy, it brings upon the family 
 in which it is eminent, the kindest regards of the Most 
 High. AVhat obtained for Abraham those glorious 
 privileges, as were, at once, his honour and his inte- 
 rest? "I know him," says the Almighty, "that he 
 will command his children, and his household, after 
 him, that they keep the way of the Lord.*' What 
 was the prominent excellence in Cornelius? He 
 *' feared God alway, with all his house." He who is 
 '■' the Giver of every gift," seems to observe with si)e- 
 cial pleasure, the exertions of heads of families to ren- 
 <ler their posterity humble and benevolent, moral and 
 devout. And yet, I am |)rcacliing an old fashioned 
 truth. But let me ask, is not the neglect of these 
 things, inconsistent in Americans? To what have 
 they traced die worth of their Hero and friend, when
 
 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 237 
 
 they could behold him no more ? To his habits of 
 virtue; to his regard for sacred things; to his domestic 
 devotions; to his fearing God. Surely, then, I touch 
 no insensible string, when I urge the importance of 
 educating each generation as it rises, and guiding all 
 who are under our management, in the principles and 
 habits of benevolence and devotion. Let philosophy 
 argue, and licentiousness scoff, as they will. He will 
 not fail of respectability, usefulness and satisfaction, 
 who " feareth God with all his house;" and such a 
 family is fitly compared with Sion, because there, the 
 Lord promised his blessing. 
 
 And, finally, we shall infer from what has been 
 said, the wisdom of using all the ordinary, and ap- 
 pointed means of improving our nature, and becoming 
 *' wise unto salvation." Jiow many men are there, 
 who are ready to say ; If Deity has promulged a gos- 
 pel for my benefit, why does he not bring me to believe 
 it? How many, who doubt not the truth of Christi- 
 anity, neglect its sacraments, saying to themselves; 
 Can the sprinkling with water, or the eating of bread, 
 be essential to my salvation? Had Cornelius rea- 
 soned thus, he might have come short of his blessing. 
 An Angel appeared to him, and directed him to send 
 for Simon, to Joppa. Persons of the above charac- 
 ter would, in this case, have reasoned; Cannot the 
 Angel tell me, without further trouble, what I ought 
 to do? Need I, when he can visit me, send forty 
 miles for a fellow mortal to instruct me? Surely, 
 the Apostle is not greater than the Angel. It is an 
 unnecessary requirement. But the Saviour had hal- 
 lowed a Ministry in his Church. The Most High, 
 without necessity, suspends not his established rules. 
 It is the duty of men to observe his appointment. 
 Cornelius, with infinite benefit, disdained not to 
 obey the divine mandate; and permit his example 
 and blessedness, to act as an inducement to every
 
 238 CHARACTER OF CORNELILS. 
 
 one to reverence each office, each ordinance, and 
 every institution whicli our Lord has appointed, as the 
 proper means of improving our virtues, and obtaining 
 the blessed hope of everlasting life.
 
 SERMON LXVni- 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE CONSECRATION OF 
 TRINITY CHURCH, COLUMBIA. 
 
 I Kings, viii. 66. 
 
 On the eighth day, he sent the people away. And they 
 blessed the king, and ivent unto their tents joyful and 
 glad of heart, for all the goodness that the Lord had 
 done for David his servant, and for Israel his people. 
 
 Jl HESE words conclude the account of one of the 
 sublimest, and most interestuig occurrences, recorded 
 in the sacred volume. A magnificent temple had been 
 built to Jehovah. There were assembled to its dedi- 
 cation, " the elders of Israel, and all the heads of the 
 tribes; the chief of the fathers of the children of 
 Israel." An innumerable company of 'Priests and 
 Levites: "a great congregation, from the entering in
 
 2^ CONSECRATION SERMON. 
 
 of Hamatli to the river of Egypt." While the prepa- 
 rations were making, " King Solomon was there, with 
 all the congregation of Israel, sacrificing sheep and 
 oxen that could not be told, nor numbered, for multi- 
 twle." When the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord 
 had been brought in unto his place, and the house was 
 passing into the possession of Almighty God, to whom 
 it was built, the king, upon his knees, ofi'ered a prayer 
 of dedication, scarcely inferior to the temple in its sub- 
 limity; nor to the ark, before which it was offered, in 
 its holiness. It has been read to you, in one of the 
 Lessons appointed for this occasion. And who that 
 heard it, do not believe that the Spirit which fdled the 
 House, filled, also, the heart of him who devoted it to 
 the Most High. To the consecration of this temple, 
 succeeded several days of festive pleasure, and social 
 joy. And " on the eighth day, he sent the people 
 away, and they blessed the king, and went unto their 
 tents joyful and glad of heart, for all the goodness that 
 the Lord had done for David his servant, and for 
 Israel his i)eople." 
 
 We may see here, in this t(>m|)lc, a type of every 
 Christian Church; and in David, a type of Jesus our 
 Lord ; and in Israel, a type of the people of the Re- 
 deemer. The blessings which tiie congregation be- 
 stowed on the king, by whom the teuii)le had been 
 built, teach us the obligations which any people are 
 under to those, who accom[)lish the erection for them, 
 of places of public worship. And the emotions of the 
 hearts of all Israel, on this occasion, describe the de- 
 light which is this day felt, by many of my hearers: 
 and which should ahvay be felt, when a temple is 
 built and consecrated, for the worship of God. 
 
 But why should the erection of Churches, and 
 consecration of them to the service of the Most High. 
 be an occasion of such extraordinary joyfniness and 
 gladness of heart? This is the subject of our discourse. 
 And we shall find sufficient reasons for joy and glad-
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. 241 
 
 ness, on such occasions, if we consider them with 
 respect to Ahnighty God, to whom the buildings are 
 devoted, to the country in which they are reared, or to 
 the people, who shall enjoy the blessings and benefits 
 which may be found in them, and they are erected to 
 secure. 
 
 In the first place, with respect to God. When 
 Churckes are erected for his worship, it is a joyful 
 thing that He, in whose glory every intelligent being 
 should feel interested, is becomingly honoured. " God, 
 who made" the heavens, " dwelleth not in temples 
 made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's 
 liands, as though he needed any thing, seeing He giv- 
 cth to all life, and breath, and all things." Neverthe- 
 less, he is pleased to consider himself honoured by the 
 devotions of his creatures; and these devotions are, to 
 themselves and the world, a proper memorial of his 
 excellence, and declaration of his praise. 
 
 Man's dispositions towards his Maker, to be ex- 
 pressed in a manner correspondent to his nature, must 
 be expressed by sensible acts. No acts of his, in his 
 social character, are more significant of reverence, 
 homage, and adoration to the Almighty, than the de- 
 votion to him of i)laces of worship, great and magaifi- 
 cent, according to the means with which he hath 
 blessed them. Without his temple, God is forgotten. 
 The appropriation of part of their wealth by men, to 
 build him an house for his service, speaks a reverent 
 remembrance of his name, and a laudable desire to 
 make his praise glorious. 
 
 How suitable an homage to the Deity this is, may 
 appear from the care of mankind, in every country, 
 and in every age, to honour their gods with places for 
 their names, and memorials of their supjiosed pre- 
 sence, and greatness. Where, among the heathens, is 
 the god, who had not his image, his altar, or his tem- 
 ple ? It was a grief to David, that while he, himself, 
 '' dwelt in an house of cedar, the Ark of God re^ 
 
 vol.. jr. 31
 
 242 Consecration sermon. 
 
 mained within curtains." Before any command re- 
 quired it, nature taught men to consecrate places to 
 the worship of the Most High. Noah, wlien he went 
 out of the ark, " buih an altar." Wherever the Patri- 
 archs in their journeyings pitched their tents, they 
 erected places for divine worship. And Moses, before 
 the Ark was made, and tlie residence for it, " accord- 
 ing to the pattern showed him in the mount," pitched 
 a tabernacle without the canij), in honour of Jehovah, 
 to wiiich every one that sought the Lord, was to go. 
 
 How acce|)table this homage is to God, we may 
 learn from his own lips and conduct. Even on the 
 pur|)osc of David to build him a ten)ple, he bestowed 
 his a|)probation. " Whereas," said the Ili^h and 
 Mighty One, who inhabiteth Eternity, " whereas it 
 was in thine heart to build a house to my name, thou 
 didbt well that it was in thine heart." Moses ho 
 instructed how to make the tal)ernaclo. He blessed 
 and rewarded Solomon, when the temple he had 
 buildcd was fmished. In the houses of his worship, 
 he condescended to " place his name." ^Vhen th» 
 tabernacle and temple were devoted to him, he filled 
 them with his presence in his glorious cloud; and in 
 his fixed and terrible glory, vouchsafed to dwell there 
 upon the mercy-seat. 
 
 Surely, every new instance of such acceptable, and 
 expressive homage to their Creator and Redeemer, 
 must be gratifying to his intelligent olVspring. Were 
 a statue and monument creeled to the honour of 
 the father who begat, and sustained you ; of the 
 sovereign of your country, or of the friend, who had 
 blessed you with his counsel and his love, would 
 you not behold it with delight, and speak of it with 
 joy? How much rather, when there is raised on 
 earth, a temple to the glory and service of your Father 
 in heaven, the Sovereign of the universe, the best 
 Benefactor, and most afifectionate Friend ! The world 
 presents much to dishonour and pain him. It is a 
 reUcf: it is a felicity to know that, amidst the confii-
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. 243 
 
 sions, follies, and pollutions of the earth ; while man is 
 destroying man; and war's ruthless hand, is desolating 
 the fabrics of art ; and in the whirl of outrage and 
 vice, God is forgotten; Piety, holiest and happiest in- 
 habitant of the earth, is, in some places, employed in 
 raising mansions for the celebration of God's glory, 
 and the abode of the Ark of the Covenant of peace. 
 Turn, oh! turn thy face. Holy and Almighty Being, 
 from the temples of idolatry, and abodes of pollution 
 which are on our globe! Turn, oh! turn thy face 
 from the atheism, the ingratitude, and strifes of men, 
 and condescend to beholil t])e buildings which thy 
 children do humbly rear, that in them, they may wor- 
 ship Thee, and learn to " love one another." 
 
 But, we are to considiT places of worship with 
 respect to the country in which they are erected; and, 
 in this view, the erection of them is a cause for joy 
 and gladness of heart. lie who loves his country, 
 would have it adorned with what is beautiful in art, 
 and excellent in ciiaractcr. It is the happiest apj)lica- 
 tion of art, to furnish fit temples for the worship of 
 the Almighty. Such temides, beautify the regions in 
 which they stand. " How goodly are thy tents, O 
 Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O, Israel!" Pleasant arc 
 they to the eye, " as gardens by a river's side, as trees 
 of lign aloes which the Lord hath planted." Who, 
 indeed, would have his i)osterity search in vain 
 among the buildings of their ancestors, for houses in 
 which religion was honoured, and her peaceful influ* 
 ences enjoyed ! Who, if the traveller shall one day 
 come to survey the ruins in his country, which cala- 
 mity or time may produce, would not have his atten- 
 tion arrested ])y vestiges of temples, which should 
 show that the inhabitants loved what was great, and 
 public, and worshiiiped God! 
 
 Especially, if it be further considennl, that the ap- 
 pearance of such edifices indicates civilization, and 
 suggest many pleasing associations, and agreeable
 
 244 CONSECRATION SERMON. 
 
 hopes. They are monuments in a country, tliat piety 
 is, or has been, reverenced there. They tell us, that 
 the people have the means of Christian improvement, 
 and the transporting prospects which Christianity 
 opens. Hence, the satisfaction with which the stran- 
 ger speaks of them, and the elevated emotions with 
 which we behold them. The eye wearied with con- 
 templating tiie habitations and desolations, which 
 remind us only of eartli and misery, rest relieved and 
 brightening with joy upon the fane, which intimates 
 that there is piety on the earth; and on the si)ire, 
 which points to heaven. Naked is that coimtry, des- 
 titute of tile best monuments of wisdom and improve- 
 ment, in which Churches, of suitable magnificence, 
 do hot abound. 
 
 In this view of the subject, joy in the erection of 
 them, may well spring from the ho\)c, that they may 
 bring blessings upon the land, in \\ iiich they arc con- 
 secrated and endowed. " For tliy temple's sake at 
 .Jerusalem," was a plea of great avail uith the Most 
 High. Upon Zion, the hill where his temple stood, 
 Cod promised his blessing. When the Jews sent an 
 embassy to Jesus Christ, in behalf of the afllicfed 
 Centurion, this was their commendation of him; *' he 
 loveth our country, and hath built us a synagogue." 
 From the anxiety of the tribes of lleuben and Cad, 
 and the half tribe of Manasseh, to build an altar on 
 this side Jordan, and the remonstrances then used 
 with them, by the other tribes, it woiilil ai)i)car, that, 
 in those days, the country was considered unhallowed, 
 and unprotected, in which no temple, or holy place, 
 was found. In every place, where the memorial of His 
 \ame should be recorded, the Almighty promised to 
 meet his people with his blessing. " Co up to the 
 mountain," said he, in the time when no temple was 
 found in his land, " go up to the mountain and briuij 
 wood, and build the house; and I will take pleasure in 
 it, and I will be glorified. Ye looked for much, and
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. 245 
 
 lo, it came to little ; and when ye brouslit it home, I 
 did blow upon it. Why? saith the Lord of Hosts. 
 Because of mine house that is waste, and ye run 
 every man to his own house. Therefore, the heaven 
 over you is stayed from dew, and the earth is stayed 
 from her fruit. And I called for a drought upon the 
 land, and upon the mountains, and upon the corn, and 
 upon the new wine, and upon the oil, and upon that 
 which the ground bringeth forth, and upon men, and 
 upon cattle, ami upon all the labour of the hands." 
 Intimating, that a cause of public calamities was the 
 neglect to pro\ iiie pl;ices for public worship, in the 
 land; and tliat the erection, and right use of them, 
 were means of obtaining divine favour. This im- 
 portant, though unheeded truth, is consonant with the 
 dictates of reason. " Except the Lord keep the city, 
 the watchman waketh but in vain." But how shall he 
 be expected to keep that city, in which he hath no 
 dwellijig i)lace ? On what ground shall the people look 
 for his presence and blessing, who refuse to provide 
 for him a House, that he may " place his name there?" 
 Dost thou love thy country ? Rejoice in the erection 
 of every new Church in her land. When the destroy- 
 ing Angel shall pass over her, these buildings may be 
 pleasant to the eyes of God, and there may arise from 
 them, the prayers and praises, which may avert hi^ 
 wrath, and obtain for her forgiveness and favour. 
 
 But, we approach here, the third view we are to 
 take of new Churches, viz: with respect to the peo- 
 ple, who shall enjoy in them the blessings and benefits 
 which they are erected to secure. And here, what a 
 crowd of thoughts rush upon the mind. Who can 
 estimate the pleasures and advantages of access to the 
 house of God? Who can sum up the blessings and 
 benefits of the sanctuary ? 
 
 It is in the house of God, that the pleasures of 
 social worship are most higlijy and extensively en- 
 joyed. And if there be any thing which will give
 
 246 CONSECRATION SERMON. 
 
 holiness and elevation to human desires; any thing 
 which will soften the asperities of social intercourse, 
 and improve the manners and character of men, it is 
 to meet together, at stated times, in tlie house of their 
 common Parent, to recognize their relations to him, 
 and each other, and to seek the influence of his in- 
 structions and grace, for the attainment together of 
 eternal life. 
 
 It is in the house of God, that communion with the 
 Father of our spirits is most purely and intimately 
 enjoyed. He is with us in our closets. He is every 
 where present. But, in his temple he delights to 
 dwell. It is here, he is present in an especial manner; 
 probably, with the retinue of his Angels, as tlie deco- 
 rations of his ancient tabernacle aud temple intimated, 
 and as the declarations of his word, and the opinions 
 of the primitive Church, warrant us to suppose; and 
 retired from the noise and infatuations of the world, 
 the devout soul under the influence of the holiness of 
 the place, becomes more still, more sensible of his 
 presence, and draws nearer to her Ciod. If but " two 
 or three be there in his name, he is there in the midst 
 of them." 
 
 It is in the house of God, that the word of his truth 
 will be most surely preached, and most attentively 
 heard; that word, \\hich he sent the Son of his bosom 
 to proclaim to a ruined world; that word, which is 
 glad tidings of great joy to all people; and "deliver- 
 ance to the captives," and recovery of " sight to the 
 blind." That word, which sets at liberty them which 
 were bruised. That word, which causes " the lame 
 man to leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb to 
 sing." That word, which is our comfort in trouble, 
 which is as a '' light to our feet, and a lamp to our 
 paths," which bringcth salvation, and showeth us 
 heaven. " How beautiful upon the mountains are the 
 feet of them that bring glad tidings, that publish 
 peace." If it were only to be entertained by them.
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. 247 
 
 with disquisitions upon the most important topics, it 
 were no little gratification. But this is a small part 
 of their business. It is their office, to bring you to an 
 acquaintance with God, and with his will concerning 
 you, as he hath revealed it in his word. It is their 
 office, to raise before you the cross, and show you 
 " the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the 
 world," expiring upon it; and to take of its blood, 
 and sprinkle it upon all your garments, that when the 
 destroying angel, shall execute the vengeance of the 
 Almighty upon a guilty world, it may be to yon, the 
 token for preservation. It is their office, to go before 
 you into the tomb, with the bright torch which revela- 
 tion furnishes, to disperse the blackness of darkness 
 which hangs over its entrance ; to show you " the 
 place where Jesus lay ;" to wipe the tears which are 
 falling upon the mouldering relics, and, when the 
 blood is curdling at the heart, amidst the horrors of 
 the scene, to restore to it, its equal, peaceful flow, with 
 the transporting assurance, that this awful dominion, 
 with its awful king, shall one day be destroyed for 
 ever. It is their office, to show you hell and all its 
 terrors, and teach you to escape ; to show you heaven 
 and all its joys, and entreat you to enter.- These are 
 subjects, which the Ministers of the word, have in 
 charge in the sanctuary. Where there are churches, 
 it is reasonable to expect this ministry will be enjoyed. 
 Who can estimate its fruits? How many "broken 
 hearts may be bound up;" how many "mourners 
 comforted ;" how many sinners may be turned " from 
 the error of their ways, to the wisdom of the just;" 
 how many immortal beings snatched from perdition 
 to the enjoyment of eternal life and bliss in heaven? 
 
 In the House of God, moreover, are found his holy 
 sacraments. By the temple are placed the waters of 
 Baptism, and in it the Supper of peace. To the Font, 
 men come, and are washed from sin and uncleanness; 
 to the altar, they go, and feast upon the memorials of
 
 248 CONSECRATION SERMON. 
 
 redemption, the tokens of forgiveness and immortality. 
 Look at the laver of regeneration ; you may see in it 
 the " beauty which is given" to sinners, " for ashes." 
 Behold, the flagons of the sacred table. They con- 
 tain " the oil of joy for mourning." In the righteous- 
 ness of the Redeemer, which these sacraments hold 
 forth, are found " the garments of praise," wiiich our 
 compassionate Father hath provided " for the spirit of 
 heaviness." 
 
 These aro the blessings which the peoi)le enjoy, 
 who have access to the temples of God. Contrast 
 their happiness with the condition of the people, who 
 have no place of i)ul)lic worship. For them, no 
 sanctuary is near, to whicii tiiey may betake themselves 
 from their sorrows, their fears, and their spiritual ene- 
 mies, to the more especial protection of Almighty 
 God. From them, there rises no sacrifice of social 
 prayer and praise, the sweetest human oflering, to 
 their common Parent in heaven. They are not clean- 
 sed with the washing of water, and the word. They 
 never do that, which he who died for them, hath com- 
 manded to be done " in remembrance of him." Per- 
 haps, the sound of his name reaches not their ears; 
 the peaceful influences of his word and Spirit, are 
 unknown to their hearts. They live without the plea- 
 sant feasts of the Church. Even " Sunday shines no 
 Sabbath day to them." You may find tliem on the 
 bed of sickness, without hope; and witliout Ciod, on 
 the confines of eternity. Awful state of existence! 
 Deplorable condition of intelligent and moral, dying 
 and accountable beings! " Oh, how amiable are thy 
 tabernacles, O, Lord of Hosts, my King and my God! 
 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, they will be 
 alway praising thee. I had rather be a door-keeper in 
 the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of 
 ungodliness. A day in thy courts is better than a 
 thousand."
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. 249 
 
 Let, then, be pondered in the city in which a new 
 Church is built, the pleasures and benefits, the peace 
 and joy in this life, and the salvation in the life to 
 come, to which they, who shall worship in it, may 
 attain; and, as it was in Samaria, at the first preach- 
 ing of the gospel, there will be " great joy in that 
 city." 
 
 These sentiments, my brethren, are in harmony 
 with the feelings of many of you. You have looked 
 forward to this day, with anticipations of new and 
 lively pleasure; and a more joyful event has not, per- 
 haps, occurred in the years of your life, than the con- 
 secration of your Church, which, for yourselves and 
 your posterity, you have built unto the name of the 
 Lord your God. We participate in your felicity. It 
 is with great satisfaction we behold your Church, 
 decent, and convenient, and bearing the name of the 
 Blessed Trinity, in whom is worshipped the One 
 Only Living and True God. Blessing, and praise, 
 are due, in no small degree, to the individuals, 
 through whose exertions and perseverance, the build- 
 ing of this temple has been so happily accomplished. 
 " Remember them, O, my God, concerning this; and 
 wipe not out the good deeds which they have done 
 for the house of their God, and for the offices there- 
 of!" 
 
 The congregation who will assemble in this place 
 to worship, have our cordial congratulations on the 
 accomplishment of their wishes. You have now a 
 Church, in which, we trust, " God's true and lively 
 word will be set forth, and his sacraments rightly 
 and duly administered." How much is opened to 
 you in this prospect! "Alien from the commonwealth 
 of Israel," stranger to the covenant of promise, here 
 you may come, and hear of God and Christ, and re- 
 ceive the seals of " an inheritance among them that 
 are sanctified," through faith that is in Jesus. Awa* 
 kened sinner, whose bosom heaves with sorrow, and 
 
 vor. ir. rV2
 
 260 CONSECRATION SERMON. 
 
 whose eye is consumed with fear, hither you may 
 come, and learn of pardon, grace, and salvation, and 
 hear from your Redeemer, when you have cast your- 
 self at his feet, " Thy sins are forgiven thee; go in 
 peace." Pious mother; here you may find a place 
 " where you may lay your young, even the Altar of 
 the Lord of Hosts, your King and your God;" and 
 he will cover them there with his wing, as his own 
 children by adoption, that the destruction which com- 
 eth upon the ungodly, louch them not. Youthful 
 Christian; who desircst to be recognized by your 
 heavenly Father, and pantest to enter upon the Chris- 
 tian career, here, in Confirmation, you may ratify and 
 confirm your baptismal vows, and receive his grace 
 and heavenly benediction; the assurance of his favour 
 and goodness towards you. Faithful disciple of the 
 Lord Jesus; who desirest a nearer approacli to him, 
 *' whom, not having seen, you love;" who wouldcst 
 receive the token of his favour, in whom, " though 
 now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice with 
 joy unspeakable and full of glory," here, at his holy 
 table, you will eat of liis bread, and drink of the cup 
 which he hath mingled ; you will lean on his bosom 
 and sup with him, and he with you. Bereaved mour- 
 ner; from whom deatli shall tear the object of conjugal, 
 filial, or parental afl'ection, here you may come and 
 bring your dead; and over their remains be^reminded 
 of Him, " who is the resurrection and the life," and 
 learn, that your dead "' shall rise again," and put on 
 immortality. Children of sorrow; over whose day 
 of life adversity has spread a thick, and chilling cloud; 
 here, you may come; and some rays of light will 
 break through the cloud, attracting your attention to 
 the heaven, from which they proceed ; and you will 
 hope for better joys in the skies beyond, where there 
 is eternal sunshine, and celestial day. How thankful, 
 my Christian friends, should you be to the Almighty, 
 for his goodness in giving you a temple, which wiU
 
 CONSECRATION SERMON. ^251 
 
 offer to you, such truths and prospects; such occupa- 
 tions and pleasures; such consolations and joys. Oh! 
 reverence, then, this sanctuary. Love to be in it, and 
 to join in its services. Keep it in its holiness and 
 beauty, and teach your children to reverence it. 
 Leave, at its door, when you come to it, whatever 
 may defile it. Henceforth, let nothing be heard in it, 
 but the instructions of religion, and the language of 
 prayer and praise ; let nothing be felt in it, but the 
 emotions of penitence, the resolutions of faith, the 
 joys of hope, and the desires and determinations of 
 Charity. It is now consecrated to the Most High; 
 and may it be to you, and to your children after you, 
 for many generations, " none other than the House of 
 God, and the gate of heaven." 
 
 And now, " Arise, O Lord, into thy resting place; 
 thou, and the ark of thy strength. Let thy Priests" 
 here '-be clothed with righteousness; and thy saints 
 sing witli joyfulness." " But will God, indeed, dwell 
 on the earth? Behold, the heaven, and heaven of 
 heavens, cannot contain thee; how much less this 
 house which 'thy people have builded! Yet, have 
 thou respect unto the prayers of thy servants, and to 
 their su[)plications, which thy servants make before 
 thee this day : That thine eyes may be open towards 
 this house night and day; that thou mayest hearken 
 unto the prayers which thy servants shall make to- 
 wards this place, and maintain the cause of thy people 
 at all times, as the matter shall require." Let it be 
 a house of the Lord our God in this place, because of 
 which, for the purity of its faith, the perfection of its 
 charity, and the holiness of its worship, all people 
 shall seek to do it good.
 
 SERMON LXIX. 
 
 DELIVERED ON THE FEAST OF THE EPIPHANY 1813; BEING 
 THE THIRD ANMVERSARY OF THE • PROTESTANT i:i'I:^COFAL 
 SOCIETY FOR THE ADV.\^CEiMEANT OF CH1US1U.MTY O 
 SOUTH-CAROLINA," 
 
 Matthew, ii. 11. 
 
 And when they had opened their treasitres, they pre- 
 sented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and 
 myrrh. 
 
 tjHARITABLE institutions are amonc; the peculiar, 
 and most excellent fruits, of the promulgation of 
 Christianity. To associate themselves for the instruc- 
 tion of the ignorant, and relief of the wretched; to 
 combine their efforts, in well ordered societies, for the 
 promotion of virtue and happiness among mankind, is
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETT/ 25S 
 
 a lesson, which human beings have learned to prac- 
 tisf^ chiefly, under the influence of the gospel of the 
 Redeemer. The Infirmary and the Hospital, the 
 Orphan- House and the Dispensary, the School which 
 en)braces the children of poverty, and the Society 
 which brings men to the knowledge of God, and prac- 
 tice of virtue, belong exclusively to the Christian era. 
 While this operation of our holy religion, may well 
 lead us to admire the benignity of its character, and 
 points out to us the affinity of its spirit to the Spirit of 
 the Father of all mercies, it is productive of incalcu- 
 lable good in our dark and afflicted world. By insti- 
 tutions, to which the Spirit of the gospel has given 
 birth, more is done in Christendom, in a single day, 
 towards instructing the ignorant, relieving the misera- 
 ble, reclaiming the vicious, and diff'using the know- 
 ledge of virtue and immortality, than was done in 
 years, yea, I may say, in centuries, in the regions of 
 heathenism. 
 
 I am to address you at this time, my respected 
 hearers, in behalf of a Society, which has had its 
 origin under the influence of this religion, and has for 
 its aim, the diff'usion of its principles and joys. On 
 this occasion, I think myself happy, that 1 am to ad- 
 dress a community distinguished for its liberality, in 
 promoting all benevolent purposes; and I do the more 
 cheerfully engage in this duty, on this day of the Epi- 
 phany, when the Church leads us to commemorate the 
 removal of the partition which separated " a peculiar 
 people" under the favours of the Almighty, from the 
 rest of mankind; and the consequent extension of the 
 revelations, and covenanted mercies of Jehovah, to 
 all the nations of the earth. For who can contem- 
 plate the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, and 
 all that is implied in it, without being penetrated with 
 gratitude for this unspeakable mercy, and filled with a 
 desire to have all men partakers of this great salvation.
 
 254 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 
 
 As the Society, for which I speak, is new among 
 you, it will be my duty, in the first place, to make you 
 acquainted with its objects, and the measures by which 
 it hopes to accomplish them. 
 
 And you will allow me, in the second place, to 
 bring to your view some of the motives which recom- 
 mend it to your patronage, and liberal assistance. 
 
 The objects of this Society are implied in the name 
 which it bears. It is for the advancement of Christi- 
 anity, according to the Protestant Episcopal faith, in 
 South-Carolina. In its views, it embraces nothing 
 but what has respect to the religious prosperity of the 
 community. Its operations are not to be limited, to 
 this or that section of the state. Wherever there is 
 ground for the CA'pectation, that its labours may be 
 successful, in spreading the truths, and cultivating the 
 virtues of the gospel, there will its exertions be impar- 
 tially, and disinterestedly made. To the excellent 
 lamps, which the piety of your fathers lighted in many 
 parts of this, their habitation, the Society would bring 
 a replenishment of oil ; that they may long burn with a 
 revived and steady tlamc, and shed a strong, and pure, 
 and increasing light. Are there any portions of the 
 state in which, as yet, no such laini)s have been 
 placed? Thither would the Society hope, in a course 
 of time to send tlnMii ; reserving to its(!lf the right, and 
 feeling itself bound by the obligation, to have them in 
 every case formed, after the ancient and hallowed pat- 
 tern of the sanctuary. In short, to extend the know- 
 l(;dge, and increase the inlluence of the pure and undc- 
 iiled religion of the Redeemer, as it is received free 
 from the corruptions and additions of men, in the ex- 
 cellent Church to which we belong, these are the 
 objects, to which the Society will devote its labours 
 and care; and this with the truly Christian intention, 
 of counteracting the baneful effects of a gloomy and 
 debasing infidelity ; of preventing the progress of 
 •' false doctrine, heresy, and schism,-' and of bringing
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 255 
 
 those of our fellow beings, who may come within the 
 reach of its beneficence, to a participation of the ele- 
 vating truths, the consoling promises, and the salvation 
 unto eternal life, wiiich "God, who in times past 
 spake unto the fathers by the Prophets, hath in these 
 latter days" been graciously pleased to communicate 
 " unto us by his Son." 
 
 There are three leading measures, by which it is 
 proposed to pursue these important objects. The first 
 is, by distributing gratuitously, or cheaply, the Holy 
 Scriptures; the Book of Common Prayer; summary 
 and clear views of the evidences of the truth of reve- 
 lation, and tracts of approved reputation upon the 
 doctrines, sacrauii-nts, nnd virtues of Christianity. In 
 this way, it is presumed, knowledge may be circu- 
 lated; and attention excited to those truths and duties, 
 which form the basis of all that is precious in man's 
 hopes, and pure in his character. That excellent 
 Society* to which many of the churches in the United 
 States, in the first years of their settlement, owed their 
 ministry, and some of them their existence, found this 
 a most useful measure for propagating the gospel in 
 the world. They expended in this way much of their 
 funds; and there are many spirits, I doubt not, rejoic- 
 ing now before the throne of God, who found in the 
 tracts that were thus distributed, the light, directions, 
 and assistance, which guided them to God, and to 
 heaven. In this respect, it will be gratifying to the 
 spirit of Americans, to be dependent now, for benefits 
 of this kind, upon an institution of their own. 
 
 Another measure, by which this Society purposes to 
 pursue its important objects, is the selection of youths 
 of genius, and pious disposition, from the retired walks 
 of life, to be educated under its patronage and direc- 
 tion, for the services of the Church, in the import- 
 
 * "Tl>e Society" iti England "for the Propagation of ihft Hospel in Fo- 
 reign Pirrts." /■
 
 256 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 
 
 ant offices of the ministry. You have not now te 
 be told, that 
 
 « Many a gem, of purest ray serene, 
 The dark unfathomd caves of ocean bear; 
 That many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 To procure of these perns, to engrave on them " Holi- 
 ness to the Lord," and set them in his temple for li^ht, 
 and for truth ; to take of these flowers, and transplant 
 them for use and for beauty, into the Church, the car- 
 den of God, where man is once more admitted to 
 communion with his Mak(^r, and a^aiii hiddni to reach 
 forth his hands unto the tree of life, and eat, and live 
 for ever; these are pur|)0ses of this Society, not It-ss 
 excellent in themselves, than promotive of its import- 
 ant objects. Th(Te seem to be peculiar reasons for 
 adopting this measure in this state. The situation of 
 the interior parishes, and the unfriendly action of the 
 climate in one part of the year, upon those who are 
 strangers to it, renders it a very desirable thing, that 
 the Church should be furnished with Ministers who 
 are natives of the land. A fondness, too, it may be 
 presumed, would be excited in fnvour of such persons; 
 for what country does not look with the strongest 
 affection on its own sons; what peoi)le will not have a 
 greater admiration for the excellencies, and a thicker 
 mantle for the imperfections of those, who have the 
 same distinctive name, and civil relations with them- 
 selves. It may, moreover, be expected, that Clergy- 
 men, who have been brought forward under the pat- 
 ronage of such a Society, will feel upon themselves an 
 increased responsibility, and be actuated by a more 
 ardent emulation of every thing honourable and useful, 
 in their profession. Nor may we doubt that, upon the 
 worthy ministers whom the Church herself, with 
 pious care, shall have raised for his service, the great
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 257 
 
 Head of the Church will look with peculiar comv)la- 
 cency, and bestow his ^rdce and heavenly benediction. 
 It is, therefore, probable, that with the Society, for 
 which I address you, this will be a favourite and most 
 useful measure. 
 
 The third measure, by which it would hope to 
 accomplish tlie sreat objects of its institution, is, the 
 supporting of Missionaries, when its funds shall be 
 adequate, who shall officiate under its direction, in 
 those places where Ministers, in that capacity, may be 
 found necessary and useful. There are, it would 
 appear, some Parishes in which, on account of the 
 want of funds, or of the insufficiency of the population, 
 to maintain the ministrations of the sanctuary, the 
 enjoyment of the services of the Church, has, in 
 a great measure, passed away. There are, also, it 
 would appear, places more recently settled, and otiiers 
 still settling; and with a population destined, in all 
 probability, to be numerous, wealthy, and influential; 
 in which, the holy faith, the pure worship, and the 
 admirable order and economy of the Church, are 
 entirely unknown. 
 
 To the advancement of Christianity in the state, 
 nothing would be more conducive, than the employ- 
 ment of Missionaries of irreproachable life, and sound 
 theological attainments, who, at stations assigned 
 them, should preach the gospel according to the faith, 
 and perform divine service according to the ritual of 
 our own most excellent Church; thus, where the reji- 
 gious opinions of the people are yet to be formed, lead- 
 ing them to a system, than which there is none in the 
 world more pure, more rational, more holy, more pro- 
 motive of good order in society, more friendly to the 
 laithful discharge of the social and civil, as well as 
 religious duties of man; and where this system has 
 once been enjoyed, but has unhappily disappeared, 
 bringing it back again to the people, by whose ances- 
 tors it was cherished, and exciting their affection for 
 
 VOL. It'. So
 
 258 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCfETY. 
 
 it, bv a manifestation of its worth, anH a patient deve- 
 lopement uf the benefits, of which its operation niny 
 be productive. 
 
 In each of these ways,' the Society purposes to seek 
 the H'^taii'ijient of its great leading objects the diflu- 
 sion o{ ih" truths, and cultivation of tfie virtues, of the 
 gospel of the Reedcenier. And is it necessary, that 
 motives should be arlduced to recommend it to your 
 fa\our? No. An institution, which bears on the 
 face of it such strmii^ and unetpiivocal txpression of 
 disinterestedness, benevolence, and pieiy, asks not tlie 
 Aid of other picas in its behalf: but ebtablisijrs for 
 itself a i hiim to our c;ood will. Yit, you uill allow 
 me to bring motives to your view; for motives there 
 are, which will consecrate your deeiis; motives, under 
 the influence of which, what is done by you for this 
 Institution, shall be a benefit to yourselves. Th( re is 
 not a benevolent intention, which is hallowed by a 
 sincere love of our fellow bein!:;s, which shall be for- 
 gotten before God; there is not *' a cup of cold water'' 
 given by any man for the sake of Christ " which shall 
 in any wise lose its reward." 
 
 The first motive, then, which should induce you to 
 bestow on this Society your patronage and libera! 
 assistance, is drawn from a regard to our blessed 
 Redeemer. When \\(> consider the atonement, which, 
 by his own most precious death, he hath made for our 
 sins; when we contemplate the liglit which, by his 
 instructions and exam[»le, he hath shed upon the paths 
 of virtue; when we think of the aid of the grace of 
 God, which, by his mediation, he hath |)urchased for 
 our spirits; when we look forward to the state of im- 
 mortality, and incorruptible joy unto which he is anx- 
 ious to bring us, who has not his alTections draw n out 
 towards this first J3enel"actor of our race; what lan- 
 guage can express the sum of our obligations to him! 
 But how shall we testify our gratitude ? What tokens 
 shall we give him of our love? \Vc cannot "pour
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETT. 259 
 
 upon his bead, a box of the most precious ointment" 
 Wf can procure: nor ''wash his feet with our rears, 
 and wipe them with the hair of our heads." We can- 
 not watch with liim wldh^ he sorrows, or sleeps: nor 
 say to him |)ersonally; "thou knowest that ue love 
 thoe;" " all that we have is thine." How, then, siiall 
 Wf^ manifest, palj-ahly, our aff«H'tion towards him-f* 
 We must espouse the caiise which is dear to him. We 
 must promote the work, which he desires to see ac- 
 complished. And, especially, upon the Church, which 
 he hath taken into so near connection, as to make it 
 one with himself, we mav bestow tokens of our regard 
 which he will tiins receive. The Church he loves. 
 With the Ch'.uch, lie hath left the records of his truth; 
 the representatives of his power; and the symbols of 
 his presence. For the Church, as his body, he is 
 constantly interceding in heaven, "that he may pre- 
 sent it unto himself a glorious Cluucli, not having 
 spot, or wrinkle, or any such t.'-.ing." And if, what is 
 "done to one of the least" of the memlxMs of this his 
 body, is consid«'red "as done unto him," with what 
 gracious satisfaction will he behold your gratitude, 
 employed in increasing the general health and vigour 
 of the body; in "lifting up its hands which hang 
 down," "and strengthening its feeble knees;" and 
 adding by your munificence, to its rejiutation and 
 beauty. You will thus promote, though you cannot 
 now approach his person, what a Prophet hath told us 
 is his dearest recompense, for all that he hath done 
 and suffered for you. " He shall see of the travail of 
 his soul, and be satisfied." 
 
 Another motive, which it is my duty to bring to 
 your view, is drawn from a regard to the community. 
 Some religion, mankind must have. It would be diffi- 
 cult to discern them in any situation, in which they 
 have not found, or framed for themselves, some system 
 of religious belief. Of the importance of a pure and 
 operative faith, and also of a steady and enlightened
 
 260 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 
 
 worship, to the happiness, the order, and the good 
 morals of a people, need I refer you for evidence to 
 the arrangements of the wisest Legislators, the opin- 
 ions of the best civilians ; or the contrast which is 
 exhibited between the feelings, and manners, which 
 are reputable in the Christian, and those which are 
 reputable in the heathen world? 1 need not. The 
 important truth is written in blood, in many parts of 
 the annals of our race; and if posterity shall not fmd 
 it upon the first page, they will find it upon the last, of 
 the narrative of the events of our own days. He, 
 then, who shall contribute to the advancement of 
 Christianity in his country, will contribute to the form- 
 ation of her best interests. For, compared witii Chris- 
 tianity, every other religion which the world has 
 known, is as the star that glimmers amidst the dark- 
 ness and clouds of a cheerless midnight, compared 
 with th(^ sun that discloses tlie beauties and joys of the 
 day. If man must be subject to some religion, who 
 would not have him subject to the gosjud of the Re- 
 deemer! This religion, I have already intimated to 
 you, is possessed by the Episco|)al Church, under sin- 
 gular advantages. And whether I consider the sound- 
 ness of its Aiith, the transcendent i)urity, h(»liiiess and 
 beauty of its liturgy, or tiie tendency of its ecclesiasti- 
 cal economy to promote that love of subordination, 
 which is essential to order, and tiiat unity of action, 
 which is essential to prosperity, there seems to me to 
 rest upon every meml)er of it, a solemn obligation, 
 arising from the greatness of his privileges, to extend, 
 as far as he is able, the participation of the system, in 
 the enjoyment of which, he is so liighly favoured of 
 God. Would you do what you can, to promote the 
 religious and moral improvemcMit of man ? They can 
 liave no better instructions than you may communicate 
 to them in the gospel ; they can offer no purer sacri- 
 fices to their Maker, than you may furnish them, in 
 the Book of Ccmmon-Praver.
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 261 
 
 There is another consideration, which I would 
 "bring to your view. It has respeet to yourselves. 
 " The merciful man," says the author of the sacred 
 Proverbs, " doeth iiood unto his own soul." This 
 may refer to the exquisite satisfaction, which ever 
 accompanies the consciousness of having done a bene- 
 volent deed; or it may reftM- to that respect of society, 
 which always waits upon the names, and memories of 
 those, whose public exertions, or privj\te benefactions, 
 manifest, that they love to do good: or it may refer to 
 the payments, which are often made by tlie Most High 
 in this life, of what the faithfid in charitable acts 
 lend unto him; or it may refer to the lofty plea- 
 sures, to the transcendent rewards, which, in the 
 day of retribution, stiall be given to those, whose 
 benevolent and us(^ful deeds shall have commend- 
 ed them, through the mediation of Jesus, to the fa- 
 vour of heaven. If in any, or all of these ways, he 
 who promotes the temporal welfare of his fellow be- 
 ings, does good unto himself, how much rather he, 
 wiio directed his exertions and charities to the promo- 
 tion of their si)iritual and eternal interests. Surely, 
 the pillow of that man's death bed must be smooth, 
 and hope w ill light up upon him the light of her most 
 peaceful countenance, who can perceive in the review 
 of life, that he has done what he could for securing 
 the safety, and extending the blessings, of that ark of 
 God, in which are deposited for his human offspring, 
 wisdom, virtue, and everlasting salvation. 
 
 Does there arise to check the operation of these 
 motives, the inquiry, what is the necessity of this In- 
 stitution? T.'ie increasing population of the state ill 
 parts of it, where the Jountains of living water have 
 not yet been set o])en; the decayed state of the 
 Churches, in which your forefathers, in goodly num- 
 bers, once ate with reverence the bread of life ; the 
 unhappy influence of scepticism on the one hand, and
 
 :262 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 
 
 not less iiniiappy influence of fanaticism on the otlier, 
 will, in the Christian bosom, furnish a sufficient reply. 
 
 Does there arise the cliilling suggestion, tliis Socit'ty 
 is young, what can it do? Every thing must have its 
 beginning. The majestic river has its origin at a little 
 spring; the cloud which contained tl,e rain that ferti- 
 lized Samaria, v^'as at fust no bigger than " a man's 
 hand;" the intelligence which ilhimines a nation, had 
 its dawn in the infant haji;^ing uj)on tlie breast. Be- 
 cause this Institution is young, wt> should the more 
 readily, and more liberally, befriend it. 
 
 Does the thought present itself, that the fruits of 
 your beneficence will be gathered in other times? This 
 is in some degree true. Before the benevolent designs 
 of this Sfxiety can be fully realized, its first benefac- 
 tors will, probably, have been gatlnired to their fathers. 
 But is tiiere not somethiiig swe(^t in the thought, that 
 while we shall be slumbering in the grave, posterity 
 will be reaping great, and imiuirtant benefits, from 
 what we shall have done ? Is there not something 
 consoling in the reflection, that the power of death, so 
 dreadfully to abridge our connection with the sa'nes of 
 our afl'ection and usefulness, may, in some measure, 
 be counteracted by tiiis posthumous operation ol our 
 works? Much good, it is believed, will immediately 
 ensue from the benevolent exertions of this Institution. 
 But it is the exi)ectation of great fiiture benefits, to be 
 derived from it l)y posterity, that will give to your be- 
 neficence a more disinterested character; yea, that 
 will assimilate it more perfcTtly to the beneficence of 
 God. For are not his blessings often bestowed in the 
 sublimcst character of goodness, where his hand is 
 unseen, and his name unknown. 
 
 You see, then, my hearers, that this Institution pre- 
 sents itself before you, as an infant friend of your 
 Redeemer. It stretches out its hands to you for your 
 smiles, and your help. It says to you, I would be 
 strong, that I might go forth aixd build up the waste
 
 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY^ 263 
 
 i)laces of the city of God, and bring much people to 
 the enjoyment of his peace and salvation. The spirits 
 of those worthy laymen, who anciently sought the 
 prosperity of the Church in these parts, seem to me 
 to look down upon it, from their places of rest, and 
 say ; Jehovah prosper you. The spirits of the mild 
 and [)ious Johnson, of the sensible and dignified Gar^ 
 den,* and of those patient and entrepid clergymen, who, 
 in the difficult years of the settlement of these regions, 
 laboured in the word and doctrine, seem to me to lean 
 from their seats of bliss, and behold, with delight, the 
 api)earance of an Institution, which will take up the 
 work, in which they expended their labours and their 
 lives. The spirits of your fathers, who once wor- 
 shipped in the temi)les which are desolate, and whose 
 ashes rest in their cemeteri«'s, seem to me to call to 
 you from the skies, to patronise in their steads, this 
 infant advocate of the Church which they loved. Yea, 
 the Spirit of Jesus seems to me to be heard, saying to 
 you, from his throne, " Take this child, and nurse it 
 for me, and I will give thee thy reward." Daughters 
 of Jerusalem, love ye your Lord ? I know that you 
 love him. When you have read of the faithful, the 
 happy women, who embalmed his body, you have 
 envied them their felicity. To share it with them, is 
 not in your power. But he hath a mystical body, the 
 Church. Upon that, you may bestow the expressions 
 of your regard for him. And how can you do it so 
 effectually, as through the instrumentality of this Insti- 
 tution, which, as Joseph cherished in its humiliation 
 his earthly body, would cherish the mystical one ia 
 which he deligiits to dwell. Sons of the Church, love 
 ye your Lord? I trust that ye love him. When ye 
 behold the wise men coming to-day to bring to him 
 iheir " gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh," ye are 
 
 * The Rev Dr. Johnson, the first President of King's College, ]Vevv-York; 
 and the Rev. Mr. Garden, the Bishop of London's Coramissary in South-Caro- 
 lina
 
 264 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Struck with the grandeur of the scone; and are ready 
 to say, to the author of so much sood to our race, 
 would we could do likewise. To bring your gifts to 
 His presence, wlio has died, that your sins might be 
 pardoned, a. id is gone into heaven to intercede for you 
 there, is not in your power. But you may bestow 
 your gold, your frankincense, and your myrrh, upon 
 the Church, which is his body. And how can you do 
 it so effectually, as through the instrumentality of this 
 Institution, which, as tlie angels ministered in the days 
 of his humiliation to his earthly body, would strengthen 
 his mystical one with all the services it can devise. 
 Men and brethren, know yc that the Son of Ciod shall 
 come again from heaven ? Assuredly ye have heard 
 it. Behold, he cometh with clouds, and every eye 
 shall see him, and you also shall stand before him. 
 And if there shall be found among his attendants, 
 many happy spirits, who shall have been conducted to 
 the knowledge of him through the beneficence of this 
 Society, would you not exchange the recollection of 
 every earthly vanity, for the remembrance which would 
 enable you to say, to the Institution which was instru- 
 mental in bringing these to their bliss, I, in the days 
 of my flesh, gave a portion of my goods? Go, then; 
 indulge the emotions which the Spirit of God exciteth 
 within you; and the fruits of which, the recording 
 angel waiteth to enter " in the Lamb's book of life." 
 Go; and as Jacob held the angel ^^ jtii whom he wres- 
 tled, hold ye this opportunity fast: let it not go, until 
 it have blessed vou.
 
 SERMON LXX. 
 
 FOR A COLLECTION IN AID OF THE FUNDS OF THE "PROTEST 
 ANT EPISCOPAL SOCIETY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF CHRIS- 
 TIANITY IN SOUTH-CAROLINA." 
 
 Nehehiah, xiii. 14. 
 
 Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and wipe 
 not out my good deeds that I have done, for the house 
 of my God, and for the offices thereof 
 
 J. AM filled with wonder, my brethren, to behold a 
 mortal man, claiming of the Almighty a remembrance 
 for good, on account of his deeds. Man cannot be 
 too humble before his God. So frail is his nature, 
 and so imperfect are all his performances, that the 
 language which becomes him, when he approaches his 
 Maker, is, " God be merciful to me a sinner." What, 
 then, are the works, which a mere man, and he a 
 VOL. IF. 34
 
 266 COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 pious, and bumble man, ventures tbus to name to tbe 
 Eternal God ? It is the good Nehemiah who uses this 
 lauisuage. What are the deeds, with the remem- 
 brance of which, we find him solacing himself, and for 
 which he calls upon the Most High to remember him? 
 They were services done for the advancement in his 
 country of the worship of God, and the religious in- 
 struction of the people. Jerusalem lay desolate. In 
 the holy tem|)le, its services were unheard. On the 
 altars, no sacrifice was laid, for there was a want of 
 Priests. In the city, no Sabbath was hallowed, for 
 the house of God was forsaken. There, where once 
 the Ciiurch had been seen in all the grandeur of her 
 Mosaic state ; with the law to instruct, and the Pro- 
 phets to console her children, and the Ark of the 
 Covenant, from before which was brought to them 
 pardon and peace; now, silence and desolation reign- 
 ed; "the place of the father's sepulchres lay waste, 
 and the gates thereof, were consumed with fire." As 
 this excellent man, whose interesting history, in the 
 book from which the text is taken, is worthy of your 
 attentive perusal, contemplated the decayed state of 
 the Church of his fathers, he wept. Actuated by a 
 noble zeal for the glory of God, and the religious in- 
 stitutions of his country, he called into action all the 
 resources he could command, that there might be 
 restored to Jerusalem, some degree of her former 
 excellence. Were personal services necessary? He 
 went round the walls, surveying their state, and took 
 measures for rebuilding ihem. Was the co-operation 
 of others wanted, for the accomplishment of his work? 
 He reasoned with the nobles, and rich men, and rulers, 
 till they were interested in the restoration of the order 
 and worship of the house of God. Were contributions 
 needed? All his servants were gathered to the work; 
 and there were sustained, daily, at his table, an hun- 
 dred and fifty of the Jews, besides heathens, and he 
 save to the treasury., a thousand drachms of gold, and
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 267 
 
 fifty basins, and five hundred and thirty Priests' gar- 
 ments. His example animated others. There were given 
 by the people to the treasury of work forty thousand 
 drachms of gold, and four thousand and two hundred 
 pounds of silver, and three score and seven Priests' gar- 
 ments. By these means, the waste places of Jerusalem 
 were rebuilt; where the Sabbaths had been polluted 
 they were now kept holy; Priests, in sufficient num- 
 bers, were procured, and appointed to their stated 
 ministrations; in the temple were again heard the 
 humble prayer, and Psalm of holy praise; the book 
 of the law of the Lord was once more read, and 
 explained in the ears of all the congregation; the 
 sacred feasts, those pleasant remembrancers of God's 
 mercies to the children of men, were revived, and cele- 
 brated each in its place; and Jerusalem was seen 
 " shaking herself from the dust," and putting on her 
 beautiful garments; while satisfaction and joy filled 
 every bosom, in the hope that the Lord God would 
 again dwell among them. The heart of Nehemiah 
 glowed with delight, as he surveyed the fruit of his 
 labours, and with a complacency, which deeds of no 
 oth( r nature would have inspired, he exclaims, with 
 eyes uplifted to the Being, to whom we must all give 
 account, " Remember me, O my God, concerning this, 
 and wipe not out my good deeds which 1 have done, 
 for the house of my God, and for the offices thereof." 
 
 That which strikes me, my brethren, in this passage 
 of holy writ, is the intimation which it plainly contains, 
 that good deeds, done for the houses of our God, and 
 for the offices thereof, are peculiarly acceptable in his 
 sight; a doctrine, which is confirmed in his holy word, 
 by the expressions of his approbation, received by 
 David and Solomon, and Josiah, and others of the 
 Scripture worthies, on account of their beneficent 
 deeds and pious exertions for promoting the know- 
 ledge and worship of his great name. 
 
 But why, are works of this character so peculiarly 
 acceptable to our Creator.^ The reasons are obvious^
 
 268 COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 and sufficiently impressive, to render us all desirous, 
 to have placed to our account, in the book of God, 
 some memorials of good deeds done by us, for the 
 advancement of the religion, to the knowledge and 
 fellowship of which, he, of his abundant goodness, 
 hath vouchsafed to call us. 
 
 It may be observed, first, that all benevolent deeds 
 are pleasing to God. He is love ; and from age to 
 age, without slumbering or sleeping, is constantly 
 occupied in doing good. When his offspring are en- 
 gaged in benevolent works, they resemble him. The 
 greater the extent of their designs, and the more dis- 
 interested their motives, the more perfect is this resem- 
 blance. And the nearer to perfection the resemblance 
 of him is brought, in any of his children, the greater 
 must consequently be the complacency, with which 
 he beholds them ; the higher the approbation he will 
 bestow upon them. And here it may be remarked, in 
 passing, that deeds done for the advancement of his 
 Church arc of the sublimest extent, and most disinter- 
 ested character. They are of the sublimest extent, 
 for they embrace the interests of unborn generations, 
 and the effects of them endure through eternity. They 
 are of a very disinterested character, for the authors 
 of them expect not to live even to see the fruits of their 
 works. Before incense can arise from the altar, of 
 which he hath contributed to lay the foundation ; be- 
 fore the youths can be clothed with the holy vestments, 
 whom he hath assisted to educate for the sanctuary; 
 before the " beauty of holiness" can be seen, or the 
 instructions of heaven heard, in the temple which he 
 hath aided to build, the head of the charitable man 
 may have been laid to its rest, and his soul have [)assed 
 to other worlds. Sublime beneficence! which asks 
 not to be known by those, whom it benefits. Its 
 deeds fall like the showers which God sends in the 
 wilderness, where no man is; that he may produce the 
 substances on which the ravens may feed, and replcn-
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 269 
 
 ish the streams, at which " the wild asses may quench 
 their thirst," though neither of them perceive or know 
 the hand that provideth for their life. 
 
 But, I pass to a higher reason, why the deeds which 
 are done for the advancement of the interests of his 
 Church upon earth, are peculiarly acceptable in the 
 sight of God. Let it be observed, in the second place, 
 that the benevolence, which is thus employed, carries 
 on the great purpose of the Most High, in all his dis- 
 pensations to this lower world. God has had an end 
 to accomplish, in this part of his dominion, from the 
 beginning of the world ; namely, the recovery of the 
 human race from death, and the restoration to them 
 of righteousness and eternal life. To this end, the 
 great acts of his government, and his particular pro- 
 Tidences to the faithful, have all had reference. 
 Whether he be heard in the types of the Patriarchal, 
 or in the sacrifices of the Mosaic economy ; whether 
 " he speak in times past to the fathers, by the Pro- 
 phets, or in these latter days to us by his Son ;" whe- 
 ther he select " a peculiar people," and confide to them 
 the oracles of truth ; or " break down the partition 
 wall," and diffuse the revelation of his will among all 
 nations ; whether he appoint the expiatory offering to 
 be consumed upon his altar, or give the beloved 
 Son of his bosom to bleed upon the cross; his pur- 
 pose is one ; the object of all these dispensations is 
 the same ; the operations of the great moral ap- 
 paratus, whose parts extend through all portions of 
 time, are to produce one result ; the introduction and 
 establishment of the knowledge of himself, and of 
 his great salvation ; and the renewing of men in their 
 minds " after the image of him who created them." 
 Has he sent affliction to individuals ? Its office and 
 commission has been, to lead them, if they would be 
 docile, into the paths of wisdom. Are the nations of 
 the earth thrown into confusion? His voice is heard 
 amidst the tumult: " I will overturn, overturn, over-
 
 270 COLLECTION SERMOX. 
 
 turn, until he come whose ri^ht it is" to reign. As 
 the great drama of the events of this world, shall be 
 drawing towards its close, " many shall run to and 
 fro, and knowledge shall be increased ;" and the an- 
 them which shall animate the final scene is, " The 
 kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of 
 our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for- 
 ever and ever." Every effort, therefore, of societies 
 of men ; every exertion or benevolent deed of indi- 
 viduals, for establishing and extending tlie Church, 
 " and the offices thereof," is a co-oi)eration with the 
 Almighty ; a co-operation with him, in ijromoting the 
 accomplishment of purposes dear to his mind, from 
 before the foundation of the world ; and to which, he 
 has applied his attributes, devoted his providence, 
 and given " his only begotten Son." How ennobling 
 the thought, of being " workers together with God." 
 How strong the obligation upon us, to be so, when- 
 ever it is in our power. When, indeed, I contemplate 
 the Almighty as the rightful owner of all things, who 
 has distributed portions of them as he has seen fit, 
 among men ; to be used for his glory, and the good 
 of his creatures ; and behold his institutions languish- 
 ing for want of the aid of the talents, or influence, 
 or wealth, which he hath given men, I see not how 
 they, with whom he hath entrusted any of these gifts, 
 can escape the imputation, of withholding his own 
 from God ; when the state, too, in wliich he presents 
 to their view the work, which they know he has in 
 hand, indicates his will, that of his own, which he 
 had freely given them, they should offer him a part 
 for the honour of his name. " Will a man rob God ;" 
 said he to his ancient people, when they had suffered 
 the ofKices of his house to fall to decay." " Will a 
 man rob God ? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say, 
 wherein have we robbed thee ? In tithes and offerings;" 
 intimating, that to so much of their wealth, as was 
 necessary to the maintenance of his holy institutions
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 271 
 
 among them, he had a claim, which it would be, not 
 merely a want of beneficence, but an act of injustice 
 to him, not to acknowledge and discharge. Who, 
 then, would refuse to co-operate with the Almighty, 
 in promoting the knowledge and honour of his name, 
 and the salvation of his human children ? Surely, of 
 all the works which men may do, deeds of this kind 
 must be peculiarly acceptable to him, whether they be 
 considered as expressive of our desire, that his plea- 
 sure should be accomplished in the world, or as 
 promotive of objects, which he, himself, has declared 
 the most important, which can be pursued on^ earth, 
 by making them the subject of his own eternal coun- 
 sels, and end of his wonderful dispensations. 
 
 I add, in tlie third place, that, in Christians, good 
 deeds done for the benefit of his Church, are emi- 
 nently becoming, as a proper expression of gratitude to 
 the Redeemer. Of his claim to your gratitude, it is 
 not necessary for me here to speak. You have not 
 now to be told of his love, nor of the greatness of the 
 salvation he hath wrought for your race. I need not 
 take you to Bethlehem, and show you him emptied of 
 divine glory, and, for your sakes, entering this misera- 
 ble world in the humblest form of human existence. 
 I need not conduct you over Judea, and point him out 
 to you amidst cares and troubles, going about doing 
 good. I need not lead you to the garden of Gethse- 
 mane, that you may look upon the uns|)eakable agony 
 he sustains, while " he bears your griefs, and carries 
 your sorrows," " and God is laying on him the iniqui- 
 ty of you all." I need not ascend Mount Calvary 
 with you, that you may see him stretched upon the 
 cross, and pouring out his life a ransom for your souls. 
 I need not turn your attention to the sacred volume, 
 and remind you of the blessed instructions in truth and 
 righteousness, which he hath left you. I need not 
 direct the eye of your faith, to the throne of God, that 
 you may behold him there, still making intercession
 
 272 COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 for you, and sending, from thence, the " Comforter, 
 that he may abide with you for ever." I need not bid 
 you rise on the wing of holy expectation, and pass to 
 the portals of heaven, and consider the mansions of 
 bliss and immortality, which he hath purchased for you 
 with his blood, and is preparing for your reception, 
 that " where he is, there you may be also." No. 
 With these deeds of your Redeemer you are well 
 acquainted, and there are hours, when, overwhelmed 
 with the contemplation of the greatness of his love, 
 you are ready to exclaim, " O, that I knew where 1 
 might find him, that I might come even to his seat !" 
 But, while he is within the vail, presenting before the 
 Mercy Seat his own expiatory blood, and making in- 
 tercession for us, it is not permitted us to approach his 
 sacred person. But the body of which he is the head, 
 is on earth, as well as in heaven. The Church is his 
 body. In all its afllictions he is afflicted, and in all 
 its prosperities he is rejoiced. Whenever it is exalted, 
 and its interests advanced, he is honoured, and when 
 it is neglected and despised, he is trampled under foot. 
 In their care of its growth, and reputation, and beauty, 
 his disciples express their affection for its head, and 
 whatsoever good deed is done by any man, to the least 
 of its members, is done to him. Yes, blessed Lord, 
 though now we see thee not, thou hast left us a way 
 in which we may make some return for thy uni>aral- 
 leled love. We cannot come to thee, and wash thy 
 wounds. We cannot anoint thy head with ointment. 
 We cannot kiss thy feet. But we may espouse the 
 cause on earth which thou, in heaven, art anxious to 
 have accomplished ; and the good deeds and gifts 
 which, if thou wert present, we should come witli 
 eager steps to offer unto thee, we may bestow upon the 
 Church, which thou hast espoused unto thyself, and 
 in her, thou wilt receive the offerings of our love. 
 And how great, as well as meet, is the satisfaction 
 which we may afford our Redeemer, by extending the
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 273 
 
 knowledge and influence of his religion. " Is there 
 joy in heaven, among the angels of God, over one sin- 
 ner that repenteth ?" How much more in the bosom 
 of him, who died that sinners might repent and live. 
 Consider, that the enjoyment of the holy Sabbaths ; 
 that access to the fonts of Baptism ; that the oppor- 
 tunities and means of offering to God acceptable ser- 
 vices; that the instructions in righteousness, and tid- 
 ings of joy, which Christianity furnishes; and that 
 the sacred Supper at which, for the full assurance of 
 our faith, we are ui)on earth brought nigh unto God, 
 and God is brought nigh unto us, were all procured 
 at the expense of the incarnation, and death of the 
 Son of God. IIow, if I may speak of Ilim as man, 
 who is exalted far above all i)rinci[)alities and powers, 
 how must He be pained, when privileges and bless- 
 ings purchased by him for the human race, at such a 
 cost, are but partially enjoyed. AVhat expression of 
 our gratitude to him, can be more becoming and ac- 
 ceptable, than by " good deeds done for the houses of 
 our God, and for the offices thereof," to contribute to 
 the preservation and extension of those principles, in- 
 stitutions, and instructions, without which, the Church 
 of his regard, would be poor and feeble, and sink into 
 decay ; and many of the family, which he died to 
 save, i)erish for lack of knowledge, or, for the neglect 
 and abuse of it, be condemned to utter perdition. 
 
 And this leads me to observe in the last place, that 
 good deeds, done for the advancement of religion in 
 the world, may well be supposed to be peculiarly a- 
 greeable to the Most High, inasmuch, as they are pro- 
 motive of the best interests of our fellow beings, his 
 human children. For what is man without the in- 
 structions of his Maker ? What is his condition, where 
 the light of God's word hath not shined ? Shall I 
 speak of him as an individual ? " How art thou fal- 
 len" from thy original greatness, thou " Son of the 
 Morning!" He wants instruction for his mind : guid- 
 
 voL. ir. 3.5
 
 274 ' COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 ance for his affections; restraint for his vices; ani- 
 mation for his virtues; consolation for his sorrows; 
 a sacrifice for his sins ; foundation for his hopes ; and 
 some staff for his spirit, when he enters " the valley 
 of the shadow of death." It is religion's holy power, 
 that must soften his character, bri2;hten his path, and 
 restore to him the lineaments of the image of God. 
 Shall I speak of him, as joined with his brethren in 
 society ? He is destitute of those views of his nature 
 and destiny, which would give elevation to his char- 
 acter, and teach him to respect, both himself and his 
 fellow beings. Of the most powerful sanctions of the 
 laws of kindness, and faithfulness, and charity, and 
 truth, he is ignorant or regardless. The passions are 
 without reins, which carry him, with desolating im- 
 petuosity, over the rights and feelings of others. There 
 is wanting, that regard to a future retribution, which 
 hallows and protects all the duties of the social state. 
 How different his character and happiness, when bless- 
 ed with the religion of Christ, under the benignant 
 influence of which, if it had operation in all its purity 
 and power, " the wolf would lie down w ilh the lamb, 
 and the leopard with the kid, and the calf and the 
 young lion, and the failing together, and a little child 
 should lead them:" a state, which Almighty Cod hath 
 taught us, is not to be expected, till the " earth shall 
 be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters 
 cover the sea." Shall I speak of him, as a being who 
 has higher interests than th.e concerns of this fleeting 
 life ; whose relations and fortunes, extend to other 
 worlds ; whose existence is to be eternal ? Ah I What 
 an alternative is presented in this the most interesting 
 view. He may rise to glory, honour, and immortality 
 in the kingdom of God ; or be driven " into everlasting 
 fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." How im- 
 portant, to convey to him that " grace of God, which 
 bringeth salvation ; which shows him his duty, and 
 Sjuides him into the path of safety ; which reveals t«
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 275 
 
 iiim that Saviour, concerning whom we have the as- 
 surance of the Almighty, that " whosoever liveth, and 
 believeth in him, shall not die eternally." In every 
 view which we take of man, the instructions and com- 
 forts of Christianity, are the best benefits we can pro- 
 vide for him. It is well known to you, that the good 
 deeds which the merciful do to the bodies of men, arc 
 pleasing in the sight of the Almight3^ You have 
 heard that, they who have fed the hungry, and given 
 drink to the thirsty, and received the stranger, and 
 clothed the naked, and comforted the sick, and visited 
 tlie prisoner, shall be i)laced on his right hand, when 
 he Cometh to judge the world. If these acts of charity to 
 the bodies of men, are so pleasing to our heavenly Father, 
 with what high ajjprobation must he behold those, who 
 assist in providing the means, whereby the soul that is 
 hungry, may be fed with " the bread that came down 
 from heaven," and the parting spirit have its thirst 
 allayed, at the fountains of life ; whereby he w ho was 
 a stranger to the covenant of promise, may be taken 
 into the congregation of Christ's flock ; and the naked 
 soul, be protected with the covering of the righteous- 
 ness of its Redeemer, whereby the heart that is sick 
 with the sense of its sinfulness, may be visited by the 
 Comforter, who aa ill seal to it the overtures of for- 
 giveness aud peace; and they who are fast bound in 
 the prison of the adversary, with the chain of their 
 sins, may be set free by that grace, which destroyeth 
 the power of the devil. Deeds of such charity are, 
 doubtless, as delightful \a orks as any which God sees 
 performed, by the inhabitants of this our world. Other 
 acts of benevolence affect the perishable, these the 
 immortal part of men. The comfort which the for- 
 mer afford, is limited to this transient state : the bene- 
 fits of the latter, may be felt eternally. On this ac- 
 count, it is written ; " they that be wise" in under- 
 standing the preference of spiritual interests, and 
 making them sure, " shall shine as the brightness of
 
 276 COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 the firmament; and they that turn many to righteous- 
 ness," by their exertions, their example, or deeds of 
 benevolence, to which the love of Christ, and of men's 
 souls, hath constrained them, " as the stars for ever 
 and ever." 
 
 You see, then, my hearers, how great excellence, 
 utility, and hoi)e of the divine approbation, belong to 
 good deeds, done for the advancement amons nien of 
 religious instruction, and the worship of God. It is to 
 the performance of deeds of this character, that I am 
 now to invite you. The object of the Society, which, 
 to-day, solicits your aid, is the "advancement of 
 Christianity in South-Carolina," after the principles, m 
 and ritual of our own distinjiuishcd Church. This .1 
 object, it would endeavour to accomplish, by diffusing, ^ 
 liberally, works of ai)proved re|)uintion u))on sacred 
 subjects; placing always at the head of them, the 
 Scriptures, and the Book of Common Prayer; by 
 educating young men, who are natives of this country, 
 for the ministry of the Church; and by sending Mis- 
 sionaries of good character, to preach the gospel, and 
 perform the services of the Church, in |)laces where 
 these benefits cannot otiierwise be enjoyed. When 
 they cast their pyes ujion many spots, where the 
 Church once stood in her glory, they "think upon her 
 stones, and it pitieth them to see her in the dust." 
 When they add to the view, the growing i)opulation of 
 the state; the increasing attention to religious inqui- 
 ries; the desire, manifested in many i.laces, to have 
 the advantages of public \vorshi[), and the wild fanati- 
 cism which is spreading itself in some quarters, and is 
 as little likely to honour the character, as to i)roduce 
 the fruits of true religion, they perceive that " the 
 harvest is great, but the labourers {ew ;^^ and are 
 compelled by the insufllciency of their funds, for the 
 extent of their work, to call upon you to aid their 
 exertions, that " labourers may be sent forth into the 
 harvest." Of this charity, there is a view, which.
 
 COLLECTION SERMON. 277 
 
 upon my mind, is so impressive, that I cannot but per- 
 suade myself it will fill you with joy, in an opportunity 
 to contribute to the accomplishment of its purposes. 
 Suppose that our blessed Redeemer stood amongst us, 
 and asked of you an alms; an alms to assist him in 
 carrying on the work, upon which he came down from 
 heaven, the enlightening, reforming, and saving of 
 mankind. Do I deceive myself, when I imagine you 
 hastening to him with holy love, with fervent devotion, 
 and emptying all your treasures at his feet? From 
 the meek and beneficent Jesus, the most dissolute, I 
 am ssre, would not turn away without offering him a 
 portion of his possessions. The language of his dis- 
 ciples would be, " all that we have, is thine." But, 
 my brethren, the necessities of the gospel are His 
 necessities. When his religion solicits your aid, it is 
 He that speaks. Societies, for diffusing the blessings 
 of his Church, present the same object which he would 
 propose. " Inasmuch," says he, " as ye have done it 
 unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto 
 me." And what can we do, concerning which our 
 God will be so likely to remember us? What acts are 
 more meet, in the da3's of your prosperity, than " good 
 deeds done for the house of your God, and for the offi- 
 ces thereof?" Of what works, will the recollection be 
 more solacing, in the seasons of your adversity, than 
 of " good deeds done for the house of your God, and 
 for the offices thereof?" To what transactions of 
 your life will you look back, with more pleasure, when 
 you shall be entering the vale of death, than to " good 
 deeds done to the house of your God, and to the offi- 
 ces thereof?" What works can you be more desirous 
 to have rehearsed concerning you, in the day of judge- 
 ment, than " good deeds done" upon earth " for the 
 house of your God, and for the offices thereof?" 
 Give, then, ye rich ; that of the abundance which he 
 hath given you, a portion may be used to the honour 
 of his name. To the treasury of this work, offer your
 
 278 COLLECTION SERMON. 
 
 contributions, ye gay, and thoughtless, if, haply, amidst 
 your omissions of duty, and transgressions of his laws, 
 the Almighty may remember you for this. And you, 
 lovers of Christianity, who, if its Author were to put 
 to you the question, which he put to his Apostle, 
 " Lovest thou me," would reply with a zeal not less 
 than his, " Thou knowest all things ; thou knowest 
 that I love thee," assist by your oblations to " feed his 
 sheep, and feed his lambs." Jesus, from his throne, 
 looks down, to-day, to behold the measure of our 
 beneficence. Christians, will ye refuse to gratify your 
 Redeemer ?
 
 SERMON LXXI. 
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 Jeremiah, xviii. 7, 8. 
 
 At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and 
 concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull 
 down, and to destroy it; if that nation, against 
 whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will 
 repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them. 
 
 JL HE vicissitudes which create, which alter, and 
 which destroy countries and communities, are among 
 the most interesting occurrences of our globe. In 
 them, we feel a lively interest as men, and have natu- 
 rally a desire to ascertain the spring of their move- 
 ments, and the principles, according to which, those 
 movements are governed. The Scriptures abound
 
 280 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 with passages, which furnish information upon this 
 subject; and contain the only instruction capable of 
 solving the difficulties in which it is frequently envel- 
 oped. The text, is one of a great number of declara- 
 tions, from which the man, who is engaged in observ- 
 ing the events of the world, or is alarmed by the ten- 
 dency of the awful phenomena of nature, or concerned 
 for the vicissitudes of his own country, may obtain 
 that knowledge which should, at once, satisfy his 
 inquiry, and render him immble and virtuous: "At 
 what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and 
 concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, to pull down, and 
 to destroy it; if that nation against whom I have 
 pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the 
 evil that I thought to do unto them." 
 
 These words suggest to us, in the first place, that 
 the being and condition of countries and communities, 
 of nations and kingdoms, are under the control of the 
 Most High. 
 
 Secondly, that the great procuring cause of perplex- 
 ities and afflictions, calamities and ruin, in any sec- 
 tion of the earth, is the predominance of irreligion and 
 vice. 
 
 And, thirdly, that by timely reformation, a people 
 may avert the evils, which, on account of their sins, 
 the Almighty may have pronounced against them. 
 
 These three most interesting truths, are evidently 
 contained in this portion of the sacred writings; and 
 they strike me as peculiarly proper for your present 
 meditation. 
 
 That the fate and events of countries, and com- 
 munities, are in the hands of God, is almost a neces- 
 sary consequence of his being and character. That 
 he has created a world, and then abandoned it to the 
 government of chance, is a supposiuon so repugnant 
 to the idea of any purpose in creating it; so incom- 
 patible with all his known attributes; so contradictory 
 to every reasonable sentiment of a God, that it is
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 281 
 
 Utterly inadmissible. To suppose him watchful of the 
 operations in the universe, and yet not active in the 
 management of them, would seem irreconcileable, 
 with the inefficacy of all laws without his might; 
 with the appearance of design in most events; with 
 the effects of a sublime power which many of them 
 display ; and with the existence, on peculiar occasions, 
 of some occurrences which have been departures from 
 the ordinary course of nature. To believe any affairs 
 to be under the guidance of his providence, and yet to 
 imagine, that the fortunes of whole countries and peo- 
 ple, are free from his observation and care, would be 
 inconsistent with the variety, and magnitude of the 
 interests, which are in those fortunes always involved. 
 If, then, there be a God, there is a supreme provi- 
 dence. For can we believe him all-powerful, wise, 
 and good, and yet regardless of his works? Are there 
 not events, for which we can in no way satisfactorily 
 account, but by referring them to his special exertion? 
 If there be a providence, it is concerned always about 
 the condition and events, of nations and kingdoms. 
 For can any objects more need his attention, or be 
 more suitable for his care? Does he cause the grass 
 to grow upon the mountains, and number the hairs of 
 our heads, and at the same time neglect those occur- 
 rences in the i)hysical, and social world, with which, 
 are generally connected, the safety, the happiness and 
 the improvement of millions of his intelligent crea- 
 tures; with which are often connected, the progress 
 of civilization, virtue, and religion; yea, with which 
 is sometimes connected, that display of his own glory, 
 for which all things are, and were created ? These 
 sentiments are confirmed by their having been com- 
 mon to all mankind. The poets of remotest antiquity, 
 represent their heroes as seeking by sacrifices and liba- 
 tions the protection of the gods, when marching to 
 battle ; or their intervention when assailed by plagues. 
 The disciples of imposture and of ignorance, have 
 voT,. u. 36
 
 282 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 recourse to the intercession of their prophet and theit 
 Bramins, for distinguishing favours, or the averting of 
 awful calamities. And the best rulers of the most 
 enlightened times, have deemed it rational and useful 
 to direct iheir thoughts, and the thoughts of their peo- 
 ple, to the God of heaven in seasons of alarm and 
 danger. Above all, they are sentiments which are 
 rendered unquestionable, by the authority of the sacred 
 volume. In the Scriptures, the Almighty is explicitly 
 represented, as superintending all the wonderful occur- 
 rences in the natural, political, and moral world. 
 They expressly teach, that an arm of flesh, and a bow 
 of steel, are destitute of strength, when he bids them 
 be relaxed ; that peace and war operate in the manner 
 which he permits, during the period which he limits, 
 and in the sphere which he assigns; that the blessings 
 which prosper, and the calamities which deject com- 
 munities, are sent by him, and by him recalled ; that 
 the pestilence, and the famine, and the noisome beast, 
 and the sword, are his four sore judgements; that the 
 thunder, and the earthquake, and great noise, and the 
 storm, and tempest, and ilame of devouring iirv, arc 
 visitations of the Lord of Hosts; that the elements 
 of nature are his ministers, to perform his i)urposes. 
 If we do not reject the sacred volume, we must believe 
 that every people is with CJod, as a vessel of clay 
 in the hands of the potter, which he braketh, and mar- 
 reth, and maketh again according to his pleasure, 
 and the uses for which it is designed. In the history 
 of his " peculiar peoi)le," we see him regulating their 
 movements, aiding or frustrating their purposes, and 
 achieving their exploits. And in the sublime passage 
 which now guides our meditations, he, with a majesty 
 of language, scarcely Surpassed in any other portion of 
 the holy books, represents the fate of countries as de- 
 termined by his word. " At what instant I shall speak 
 concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to 
 pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it."
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 283 
 
 But it may be objected, if it is thus certain, that 
 the events of lime are under the superintendence of 
 God, why are there so great evils both in the natural 
 and political world ? Why does the earthquake terrify 
 and devastate whole cities and countries, in some regions, 
 and war deluge others with blood ? Why is" the arm of 
 abused power" ever successful, and unprincipled vio- 
 lence seen triumphing over prostrate man ? To this it 
 would be sufficient to rej)ly, that in us, beings of yes- 
 terday, who see but a few links of the vast chain, in 
 which the Almighty hath connected all occurrences in 
 the universe ; who, with the utmost effort of our fa- 
 culties, are unable, in this our low |)osition, to per- 
 ceive the final results of any of his operations, it is 
 presumptuous, vainly presumptuous, to attempt to fa- 
 thom the counsels of his mi"d ; and worse than pre- 
 sumptuous, with the e»fdences which he hath vouch- 
 safed to give us iii iiis word and works, of his wis- 
 dom, goodness, and rectitude, to doubt that all his 
 arrangem^^iits will terminate, to the honour of his 
 government, and the greatest possible benefit of his 
 creatures. As the objection, however, is plausible, it 
 may be well to observe further, that our estimate of 
 what appears to be evil may often be erroneous. There 
 are certainly reasons for apprehending, that in the vi- 
 cissitudes of this disordered world, the course is taken 
 by divine providence, which, upon the whole, is best ; 
 and " all partial evil, universal good." Thus, though 
 the earth quake, or the whirlwind may destroy a city, 
 and both be made instrumental by the Almighty of 
 executing his vengeance upon a guilty people, they 
 may, nevertheless, be necessary to the safety, the du- 
 rability, and the salubrity of the globe they disturb. 
 
 " The winter is as needful as the spring, 
 
 The tliunder as the sun ; a stagnant mass 
 
 Of vapours breeds a pestilential air. 
 
 Not more propitious the Favonian breeze 
 
 To nature's health, than purifying storms. 
 
 The dread volcano ministers to good ; 
 
 Its smothered flames might undermine the world."
 
 284 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 Somewhere, I know not where, I have seen it with 
 striking force and beauty asked, whether the insect, 
 whose habitation the ploughshare overturns, knows 
 that its motions conduces to that fertility of the earth, 
 which is to sustain many intelligent creatures ? In like 
 manner, from the convulsions, and terrible occurrences 
 in the moral world, there may be educed by the Being, 
 who bringeth good out of evil, such results, as will 
 advance his purposes, and the general welfare. " The 
 arm of abused power," as in the case of the Assyrian 
 monarch, may be used by him as a scourge, in execut- 
 ing his anger upon the nations, whom he would chas- 
 tise, though it may be an object in itself of divine ab- 
 horrence, and destined, in manifestation of the divine 
 holiness, to be, in itself, fnially broken. Evils there 
 are in the world. They are to be looked for in a 
 world inhabited by sinners, uiul labouring und«r a 
 curse. But we have no reason lo believe, that they 
 are not the least evils of w hich existing circumstances 
 would admit. We know that they shall all be bent 
 by God, to promote the accomplishment of his plea- 
 sure, in the manifestation of his glory, and the final 
 triumph and reward of truth and goodness. Could 
 the state and character of the people who have hither- 
 to been, be accurately known, for myself, 1 cannot 
 doubt, that the proportion of the measure of their 
 real happiness, and the degree of their purity and vir- 
 tue, would be found sufficiently just, to vindicate the 
 agency of the great moral governor, in tiieir respec- 
 tive allotments. 
 
 This brings us to the second truth contained in the 
 text, viz : that the great cause of perplexities and 
 troubles, calamities and ruin, in any region, is the 
 predominance of corrupt principles and manners. 
 From the evils which the divine providence sends upon 
 the world, there can be no other cause than the trans- 
 gressions of the inhabitants thereof. If we look into 
 the volume of revelation, the best guide to a know-
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 285 
 
 ledge of tlie principles of tlic divine government, we 
 shall learn that, " he doth not willingly afflict or grieve 
 the children of men." The scriptures, again and again 
 represent the calamities of a people, as the punishment 
 of their sins. " O Israel, thou hast fallen by thine 
 iniquity." " Your iniquities have turned away these 
 things, and your sins have withholden good things 
 from you." *' At what instant I shall speak concern- 
 ing a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and 
 to plant it ; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my 
 voice, then 1 will repent of tlic good, wherewith I 
 said I would benefit them." " Thou didst march 
 through thy land in indignation, thou didst thresh 
 the heathen in anger. Thou woundedst the head out 
 of the house of the wicked, by discovering the foun- 
 dation unto the neck." " In the hand of the Lord 
 there is a cup, and the wine is red ; it is full mixt, 
 and he i)oureth out of the same ; as for the dregs there- 
 of, all the ungodly of the earth shall drink them, and 
 suck them out." " Then will I cut off Israel out 
 of the land which I have given them; and this house, 
 which I have hallowed for my name, will I cast out 
 of my sight ; and every one that passeth by it shall 
 be astonished, and they sliall say. Why hath the Lord 
 done thus unto this land, and to this house ? And they 
 shall answer, Because they forsook the Lord their 
 God, and have taken hold upon other gods, and have 
 worshipped them, and served them ; therefore hath 
 the Lord brought upon them all this evil." Famine, 
 pestilence, the sword, conflagration, earthquakes, 
 tempests, and all the public calamities, are mentioned 
 in the Scriptures, as ministers of vengeance, calling 
 upon the people to whom they are sent, to observe the 
 tokens of divine displeasure, and consider their wa)^s. 
 So strong is the language of inspiration upon this 
 point, that it represents the Deity as constrained by 
 his holiness, to execute his judgements upon a land, 
 laden with iniquity. " Shall I not visit for these things,
 
 286 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 saith the Lord, and shall not my soul be avenged upon 
 such a nation as this." 
 
 Nor is reason less explicit upon this truth, than rev- 
 elation. Upon a little reflection siie perceives, that 
 the Almighty, being perfectly holy, wise, and good, 
 will approve and encourage virtue. This necessarily 
 implies, the condemnation and punishment of vice. 
 In beings destined to exist hereafter, there is extensive 
 opportunity for the fulfilment of the divine intentions. 
 Their immortality, opens a wide field ior the display 
 of the justice of God. And hence it is, that in tins 
 present state, vice does not alway in the individual, 
 meet its retribution, nor virtue its reward. But nations 
 and communities, as such, are not immortal. At 
 their dissolution, they are annihihued. In a state of 
 after accountability, we have no reason to think, they 
 will ever exist. It should, therefore, seem reasonable, 
 that they should, in their present existence, enjoy the 
 rewards due to their virtues, and endure the punish- 
 ments which their vices deserve. If their fortunes 
 and fate, be subjects of the divine providence, he, 
 doubtless, applies to them the principles of his moral 
 government. And under the application of tliese prin- 
 ciples, sliall not the thoughtless fear thee, O, Lord; 
 shall not the ungodly be afraid! 
 
 To place tiie point beyond dispute, experience 
 w eeping as she reviews her venerable annals, declares 
 from them that the indignation of heaven has fre- 
 quently been brought upon whole communities, by 
 their sins; that debasement, calamity, and ruin, have 
 resulted to them from the predominance of depraved 
 principles and manners. She points to " the cities of 
 the plain," " set forth for an example, suffering the 
 vengeance of eternal fire ;" and a sigh escapes from 
 her lips, as she repeats the cause of their destruction; 
 that ten righteous men could not be found in them! 
 She turns to an earlier page, and looks aghast upon 
 the ravages of the flood, and when it is incjuired,
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 287 
 
 wherefore did the Almighty bring this dreadful convul- 
 sion upon his earth, and desolation upon his creatures, 
 she proclaims, that " all flesh had corrupted their 
 ways" before him. She directs your attention to the 
 chosen people, and shows you them, now visited with 
 pestilence, now languishing in captivity; now terrified 
 with awful phenomena in their country, now scourged 
 with war; now having "the wisdom of their wise 
 men" taken away, " and the understanding of their 
 prudent men hid ;" now having the fruit of their la- 
 bours wasted, by blast and mildew, by the canker 
 worm, the caterpillar, and the palmer worm; now 
 seeing " the cities, the places of their fathers sepul- 
 chres, laid waste, and the gates thereof consumed 
 with fire;" and in all the seasons of their calamities, 
 she shows you the demons of idolatry, turning them 
 from their God; or uncommon profligacy rendering 
 them unfit for his mercies. She places herself upon 
 the mouldering relics of cities, once great and fair; 
 upon the territories of empires, once splendid and 
 mighty; and, as she looks upon the gloomy vestiges of 
 their destruction, demands, were piety and purity here, 
 when these desolations came; was holiness buried in 
 these ruins? She stretches out her hand to direct 
 your eyes to Jerusalem, even " the city of the great 
 king;" she reminds you of the ingratitude, the unbe- 
 lief the hypocrisy the licentiousness, and hardened 
 hearts of the people, by whom it was inhabited ; and 
 while you survey, with horror creeping over your 
 senses, its most remarkable desolation, she writes, 
 with a pen dipped in the fount of inspired knowledge, 
 that the Almighty " hath not done without cause, all 
 he hath done in it." Thus do revelation, and reason, 
 and experience, the three great guides to knowledge, 
 unite in their testimony, that " righteousness exalteth 
 a nation; but sin is a reproach" and destruction " of 
 any people."
 
 288 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 This leads us to the last point of observation, that 
 by a timely reformation of their principles and lives, 
 communities may avert the dii)leasure of the Almighty. 
 Contrition is estimable, and acceptable through the 
 Redeemer, in an individual. It has turned away the 
 wrath of heaven, from many an offender. But, when 
 a community, as one body, is roused by a sense of 
 danger, or by the calls of the Most High, in alarming 
 occurrences, in foreign examples, or in his holy word, 
 or by their own consciousness of a relaxed state of 
 religion and morals, to " consider their ways," and 
 turn with sincerity to God, to humble themselves be- 
 fore him; and to express their earnest desire to be 
 made objects of his forgiveness and favour, if ever he 
 may be said to be taken with holy violence, it is by 
 such an act. " Rend your hearts," says he, " and not 
 your garments, and turn unto the T^ord your God ; for 
 he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of 
 great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil." 01 
 the efficacy of such repentance, examples are not 
 wanting. In the history of the Jews, a people select- 
 ed, I conceive, among other reasons, that in them 
 might be exemplified to all the nations of the earth, 
 the rules, and method of the divine govennnent, as i( 
 concerns them; we iind, that, as their dei)arture from 
 the commandments of God, subjected them to divers 
 calamities, so their return to truth and obedience, 
 averted the evils which were pronounced against them, 
 and obtained the divine favour. And how great, how 
 affecting is the example, which is presented to your 
 view, in one of the Lessons which have been read. 
 Nineveh, that great, and wealthy, and splendid city, 
 had become dreadfully irreligious and dissolute. Ruia 
 was in awful indignation pronounced against it. " Yet 
 forty days," the Proi)het was commanded to proclaim, 
 *' and Nineveh shall be overthrown. And the people 
 of Nineveh believed God, and proclaimed a fast, and 
 put on sackcloth, from the greatest to the least of them.
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 289 
 
 For word came unto the King of Nineveh, and he 
 arose from his throne, and he laid his robe from 
 him, and covered him with sackcloth, and sat in 
 ashes. And he caused it to be proclaimed, and pub- 
 lished through Nineveh, saying, Let neither man nor 
 beast, herd nor flock, taste any thing; let them not 
 feed, nor drink water. But let man and beast be cov- 
 ered with sackcloth, and cry mightily unto God; yea, 
 let them turn every one from his evil way, and from 
 the violence that is in their hands. Who can tell, if 
 God will turn and repent, and turn away from his 
 fierce anger, that we perish not. And God saw their 
 works, that thoy turned from their evil way; and God 
 repented of the evil, that he said he would do unto 
 them ; and he did it not." But why should I multiply 
 examples? " God is not a man that he should lie," 
 and he hath given us express assurances, of the effi- 
 cacy of humiliation and amendment, to turn away his 
 wrath. With the text before us, we can need no other 
 quotations: " At what instant I shall speak concerning 
 a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and 
 to pull down, and to destroy them; if that nation, 
 against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, 
 I will repent of the evil, that I thought to do unto 
 them." 
 
 I have detained you too long, my hearers, upon 
 these important topics, to be able, without wearying 
 you, to dwell upon the many instructive inferences 
 which they would sustain. You will indulge me, 
 however, with observing, that they place before you, 
 in a striking view, the propriety of that act of your 
 Chief Magistrate, which has assembled us in this holy 
 place ; and that they offer you the most powerful in- 
 ducements to keep such a Fast, as the Lord hath 
 chosen. Our age seems to be an awful era, in which 
 the Almighty hath spoken, " to pluck up, to pull down, 
 and to destroy" many nations of the earth. Our 
 country, has not had little cause to be alarmed, lest, of 
 
 ^'f>T.. ir. 37
 
 290 PUBLIC FAST. 
 
 the cup of his wrathful displeasure, she also should be 
 called £0 drink. The skirts of those clouds which 
 darken Europe, have been seen rising on the edge of 
 our horizon. Thunders, and earthquakes, and great 
 noises; storms, and tempests, and the flame of devour- 
 ing fire, those ministers of alarm, which come from 
 the Most High in mercy, as well as in judgement, 
 have been, in an unusual manner, visiting our land. 
 And " the voice of his word" has proclaimed in our 
 temples, his standing admonitions, that though " he is 
 gracious and long-suffering, he will by no means clear 
 the guilty." Of the strange events, both in the natu- 
 ral, and moral world, which mark this age, we should 
 make the use, to which rational beings, and especially 
 Christians, should convert them ; to lead us to religious 
 reflection, and godly fear; to check us in onr incon- 
 siderate prartices, and turn us from the error of our 
 ways " unto the wisdom of the just." It is not, how- 
 ever, by the formality of a day's humiliation, that we 
 shall recommend ourselves to God, bul by minds i)uri- 
 fied by faith, and lives distinguished for virtue. Let 
 us, then, bring every one his erroneous principles, his 
 vicious disi)Ositions, his criminal practices, and his dis- 
 solute manners, and sacrifice them on the altar of his 
 country's preservation. Let us, in the several spheres 
 of our influence, discountenance the profanation of 
 the Sabbath, the n(^glect of the institutions of Chris- 
 tianity, and all that corruption of sentiment and man- 
 ners, which is as little promotive of man's present 
 happiness, as it is sure to produce his everlasting de- 
 struction. Let us unbend the heavy burdens, and 
 deal our bread to the hungry, and cover the naked 
 with a gcument, and not hide our face from our own 
 flesh. Above all, as we love our own safety, and the 
 happiness of posterity, and the honour of our God 
 and Redeemer, let us endeavour to check the exten- 
 sion of those sceptical tenets, and habits, which arc 
 like the overllovvings of ungodliness, which made
 
 PUBLIC FAST. 291 
 
 David afraid. While we see the Almighty shaking 
 the earth in his majesty, making bare his arm in the 
 sight of all the nations, and stretching out the rod of 
 his power, over this guilty world, let us hearken to the 
 words, which, as he bends to execute his judgements 
 over the creatures of his hand, do yet proceed from 
 his gracious lips; " O, that there were such an heart 
 in them, that they would fear me, and keep all my 
 commandments always, that it might be well with 
 them, and with their children for ever!"
 
 SERMON LXXIL* 
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Psalm, c. 4. 
 
 Enter into his gates ivith thanksgiving, and into his 
 courts with praise; he thankful unto him, and bless 
 his name. 
 
 are assembled to day, at the call of our Civil 
 Rulers, to offer an annual tribute of praise and thanks- 
 giving, to the ever blessed God. "Very meet and 
 right" it is, " and our bounden duty," thus, as a peo- 
 ple, to adore and magnify the great and benevolent 
 author of our national, domestic, and individual pri- 
 vileges. Blessings which we socially enjoy, require a 
 
 * Preached at Ne^vport, Rhode-Island, previous to 1809.
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 293 
 
 social acknowledgment. Mercies which are public- 
 ly bestowed, demand a public expression of praise. 
 This, you have learned from the Scriptures. Your 
 reason and the authority of your Church, approve it. 
 And you are met together, I trust, with that undis- 
 sembled gratitude, which may perfume the incense 
 that is, at this moment, rising from so many altars, in 
 this part of our common country. 
 
 In no way can I more j^ropcrly lead 5'oiir medita- 
 tions, or more fully set before you our obligations, to 
 honour and praise the Almighty, than by enlarging 
 upon the blessings, set forth in the proclamation, as 
 requiring our grateful and devout acknowledgments. 
 
 In the first place, we are called upon to render 
 thanks to " the author and giver of every good gift," 
 that our country has enjoyed peace, and freedom, and 
 their happy fruits, while the nations of the earth have 
 been convulsed by wars and violence, and deluded 
 and oppressed, by the cupidity and ambition of wick- 
 ed men. Peace and freedom, are among the choicest 
 blessings which heaven can bestow upon a nation. 
 Alas! What people have justly appreciated them, till 
 they were gone? Without them, small is the enjoyment 
 of any other blessing. Property is not safe, improve- 
 ment languishes, the smiles of comfort, and the car- 
 rols of joy, cease; the endearing charities of life, yield 
 not their customary delight; humanity loses its bland 
 control over the hearts of men, when the peace and 
 freedom of a country are destroyed. Even the kind 
 voice of religion, is lost in the din of contention, and 
 her benevolent hand palsied, in the manacle of servi- 
 tude. War and slavery! They are among the sores 
 and curses which an angry God inflicts upon the earth, 
 when he would chastise its degenerate inhabitants. In 
 its preservation from these evils, our country has lii- 
 therto been peculiarly favoured, by the Almighty. We 
 live in an eventful period of the world. Our age, is 
 an age of tribulation to a great part of the earth. We
 
 294 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 have seen a war of uncommon terror, spring from mon- 
 strous parents, and, uncontroled by any principle of 
 honour or right, sent forth to ravage the most civilized 
 portions of the globe. Early it fed upon the ruins of 
 every thing great and sacred. It demolished the weak, 
 and dismayed the powerful. It prowled for plunder, 
 even into the hallowed abodes of religion. It spared 
 not the peaceful recesses of the arts. It had, at length, 
 returned to the den from which it came, spiteful as a 
 wounded tiger, and covered with the blood of inno- 
 cence and virtue. The humane were wishing that 
 there it might expire, either of its surfeit, or of its 
 dreadful exertions. But, it is again let loose. Eu- 
 rope trembles at its aj)proach. The nations of the 
 earth observe its movements with wonder. Grown 
 stronger by rest, and more ravenous by confinement, 
 who can foresee the extent, and end of its devastations. 
 They are known only to that omniscient God, who 
 " maketh peace, and createth war," and, by whom 
 alone, the remainder of wrath can be restrained. 
 
 Melancholy, in the course of this tumultuous period, 
 has been the fate of many happy and interesting peo- 
 ple. The great and splendid nation, with whom these 
 confusions originated, relinquished her hold on all her 
 ancient establishments in an infatuated pursuit, through 
 the blood of the best, and worst of her sons; after 
 w hat the unprincipled and aspiring had persuaded her, 
 was Liberty. But she mistook a cloud for the goddess : 
 and for her rashness, has been doomed, as yet, to turn 
 unceasingly in a mazy wheel. Nor is her loss of free- 
 dom to be chiefly deplored. Unfortunate Belgium; 
 ill-fated Poland; unhappy Swiss; deluded Genoese, 
 we mourn more for you. The genius of your coun- 
 tries is fled, we know not whither ! Your fortunes will 
 be remembered by nations, in far distant ages, as so- 
 lemn cautions to trust no friend, who has discarded all 
 principle, and rely upon no earthly power, which pro- 
 mises to give, what it must first destroy.
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 295 
 
 While we are thus lead by the proclamation, to ad- 
 vert to the dealings of providence towards the nations 
 of the earth, the contemplation of their calamities 
 should increase our gratitude, for the ptace and civil 
 privileges which we are permitted to enjoy. If we 
 have in our country, any hard earned wealth, which 
 might be plundered ; if there be in it any virtue, which 
 might be oppressed ; or infancy and age which might 
 unresistingly bleed; if there be any chastity, which 
 might be ruined, or domestic joys which might be 
 torn from us ; if we have any altars which might he 
 demolished, or temples which might be defiled, then 
 have we reason to bless and adore, the sovereign ruler 
 of the universe, that our nation has not been involv- 
 ed in the horrors and miseries of the war, which has 
 desolated, and still threatens to desolate, the most po- 
 pulous parts of the globe. The skirts of its clouds 
 have, once and again, been curling towards our shores, 
 but his gracious breatii hath turned them away. How 
 long this shall be the case, we are unable to say. But 
 this we know, that his good providence can restrain 
 the provocations and injuries of misguided, or design- 
 ing powers ; and that the way to deserve a continu- 
 ance of our peace and freedom, is, to be grateful to 
 God, that we jiave hitherto enjoyed them, and to use 
 them soberly, in advancing his glory, and the virtue 
 and happiness of our species. 
 
 Again. We are called upon by the proclamation to 
 render thanks to God, that though he has seen fit to 
 visit some of our cities with pestilence, he has stayed 
 the hand of tlie destroyer, and not suffered the people 
 to be destroyed utterly. When Moses rehearsed to the 
 chosen people, tiie blessings which they had received 
 of the Most High, ho led them to consider in their 
 hearts, that " as a father chastcneth his son, so the 
 Lord tiieir God had chastened tliem." Awful, indeed, 
 is the minister of death, which has " walked in dark- 
 ness," through many parts of oiu' land. Bui', is there
 
 296 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 not a cause? Alas! there are spots upon thy gar- 
 ments, my country ; thou hast departed from thy puri- 
 ty. A little reflection will convince us, that if the 
 Deity, in a national view, regards the character and 
 conduct of a people, we have deserved heavy dispen- 
 sations at his hand. Has our country exhibited that 
 scene of harmony, sobriety, and order ; of chastity, 
 righteousness, and piety, which a country so favoured 
 and enlightened, ought to exhibit ? Our consciences 
 tell us it has not. Though we have been blessed w ith 
 the purest, and most perfect combination of freedom 
 with government, we have been factious and dissatis- 
 fied. Though the Almighty has raised up for us a 
 host of worthies, as great and good as ever protected 
 and adorned a nation, we have mistrusted and slan- 
 dered them. A si)irit of calumny and contention, 
 vices of the blackest hue, has prevailed, when (juiet- 
 ness and deference to superior wisdoni, \\ hen love 
 and charity and concord should have been our delight. 
 Though we are distinguished by the presence of reli- 
 gion, in its most incorruptcd slate, we have not enter- 
 tained it w itii that affection and respect, which such a 
 guest, from the courts of iieaven, deserves. Our ears 
 ha\ e sometimes turned from tiic voice of the charmer, 
 to listen to the blandishments of a dissolute philoso- 
 phy. We have harboured the works, and iionoured 
 the patrons, of infidelity. When, with indignaHt faith 
 we should have shaken the viper from our hands, we 
 held it, and pressed it to the bosom of our country ; 
 and entirely owe it to the grace and protection of the 
 Almighty, that its venom has not poisoneil the whole 
 body. Thougli we have been prospered in our agri- 
 cultural, commercial, and mechanic pursuits, beyond 
 all example, we have forgotten the God who giveth 
 power to get wealth. His sabbaths are profaned, and 
 his laws neglected. We have yielded ourselves to 
 luxury and efteminaey ; and there is cause to fear, that 
 the mass of the coeimunitv. are much more intent
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 297 
 
 upon securing to themselves vain, and polluting plea- 
 sures, than upon honouring their Creator, and obtain- 
 ing a place in his kingdom. Under these circum- 
 stances, instead of murmuring that he hath visited us 
 with pestilence, we have reason to exclaim, " It is of 
 the Lord's mercies, that wc are not consumed." He 
 hath, indeed, chastened us, but not " according to our 
 sins." " In the midst of judgement, he hath remem- 
 bered m(3rcy." In some to\\ns, and particularly in 
 our own, he hath greatly blessed the exertions of the 
 citizens to arrest, in its progress, tlie insidious disease. 
 In others, he has excited a spirit of compassion and 
 benevolence, towards the wretched sufferers, and thus, 
 has conv ertcd the affliction into an occasion of calling 
 into action, some of the choicest virtues of the human 
 heart. And when all hearts were failing them for 
 fear, he hath been ready to hear our prayers, and hath 
 graciously called to the destroying angel; "It is 
 enough; stay now thine hand." For this restoration 
 of health, to the mourning cities of our land, praise 
 should wait upon our God in Zion. We who escaped 
 from peril ; we, who live, while many more virtuous 
 and useful than ourselves are perished, should bless the 
 God of our health, and sing of his righteousness. 
 
 Further. We are exliortt?d in the proclamation, to 
 render thanks to God, for the provision which has 
 been made for the sustenance of man and beast. In 
 no country, perhaps, are the seasons and the elements, 
 more friendly to man, than in this which we inhabit. 
 While there is occasion enough for the toils of the 
 husbandman, to keep him in the wholesome habits of 
 industry, his labour receives, generally, a sure and 
 sufficient reward. Seldom does the hurricane blast 
 his prospects, or famine stalk over his fields, spreading 
 dismay. The seasons perform their round in constant 
 and beautiful order, and harvest brings with its gener- 
 ous countenance, the causes of thanksgiving and fes- 
 tivity. When we advert to the occurrences of the 
 
 VOL. n. ■ 38
 
 298 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 year past, and observe the dreadful Tornado laying 
 some places waste, and in others, the earth yawning 
 and swallowing up multitudes alive, with what thank- 
 ful hearts should we bless the Lord, for this good 
 land which he hath given us. 
 
 Unwearied, too, is the Almighty in his active muni- 
 ficence. He rides forth gloriously in the sun; he de- 
 scends silently in the dew; by the influence of his 
 power, he secretly fertilizes the earth, that " all things 
 living may be filled with plenteousness." There is 
 something sublimely affecting in the thought, that 
 though infinitely happy in himself, this great and glo- 
 rious Being, is constantly engaged in providing the 
 nourishment, and promoting the joy, of his extensive 
 family. Amongst us he has not left himself without 
 witness. Although he gave not his rain in the usual 
 abundance, yet has the fig-tree blossomed, and fruit 
 has been in the vine; the labour of the olive has not 
 failed, and the fields have yielded meat; the flocks are 
 not cut off from the fold, and there are herds in the 
 stall. To abuse these bounties of the Almighty, or 
 even to receive them without discerning, and adoring 
 his munificent hand, would ])e to make ourselves 
 utterly unworthy of them. The heathens had their 
 offering to Ceres. The Jews waved their first fruits 
 before Jeliovah. And unworthy are the people to be 
 callod Christians, who feel no gratitude, and express 
 no praise, when the benevolent Creator hath " crown- 
 ed the year with his goodness." 
 
 Another cause for which we are exhorted to give 
 thanks is, that the means of education are extended 
 and multiplied. In any region it is pleasant to behold, 
 and honourable to promote, the expansion and im- 
 provement of the faculties, with which man is en- 
 dowed. But, in countries like ours, this is a thing of 
 very groat importance. It is equally true that, a peo- 
 ple must be ignorant, before they can be quietly ensla- 
 ved, and tliat they must be well informed, before they
 
 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 299 
 
 can enjoy freedom. Hence, in some of the ancient 
 republics, the education of the rising generations was 
 made a public care. And hence, under all republican 
 governments, the cultivation of the mind and manners, 
 the diffusion of knowledge and civilization, is a matter 
 of primary consequence. It must, therefore, afford 
 pleasure to every patriotic American, to behold the 
 Seminaries of Learning multiplied, and the means of 
 education facilitated, in all parts of his yet infant 
 country. Of such great importance are our Schools, 
 Academies, and Colleges, and so rapidly do they in- 
 crease, that we may apply to them a prophecy which 
 related, originally, to a much higher blessing. " The 
 wilderness, and solitary place shall be glad for them; 
 and the desert shall," through them, " rejoice and 
 blossom as the rose." There is, perhaps, no place 
 upon our globe, in which an ordinary education is 
 more generally acquired, or acquired with more faci- 
 lity, than in New-England. It is humiliating, how- 
 ever, to confess, that in this our state, this momentous 
 subject has received little public attention. We live 
 in a town, in which there are upwards of seven thou- 
 sand inhabitants, and, consequently, many poor and 
 some rich; and yet, we behold not in it, a single 
 school, free to the children of all classes, and sup- 
 ported by common consent. The speaker would not 
 willingly be thought to intrude upon departments, 
 which do not belong to him. But, conceiving that 
 morals, and true religion, are very dependant upon 
 education, as well as the preservation of freedom, and 
 national prosperity, he would be negligent of his duty, 
 if he did not avail himself of the opportunity to deplore 
 the indifference to so important a subject, in this little 
 portion of his country. At the same time, it is highly 
 gratifying, and a cause for great thankfulness to God, 
 that the diffusion of knowledge is so general, and the 
 means of education so extended and multiplied in the 
 land, as to render the good sense of the people, the
 
 300 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 final dependance of those, who calculate the variations 
 of public opinion, and the possibilities of future events. 
 This is as high an encomium as can be passed upon 
 a nation; and we know of but one evidence, so great, 
 that it is highly favoured of the Lord. 
 
 Which brings us to the last, and crowning blessing, 
 for which the proclamation calls upon us to give 
 thanks, viz: that the Book of divine truth is open 
 before us, and that we read and hear the glad tidings 
 of salvation. Some religion, every associated people 
 upon earth must possess. It is a pillar, without 
 which, no civil society can stand. How happy are 
 we, in having a religion which reaches the heart; 
 whose awful sanctions affect the ruler as well as the 
 subject; which rests upon the basis of its reasonable- 
 ness, and its evidences; and, compared with whose 
 adaptation to the necessities and wishes of man, the 
 properties of all other religions have their origin, and 
 insufficiency, betrayed. The gospel is the choicest 
 blessing, which God lias bestowed upon the inhabitants 
 of this miserable world. In our national capacity, it 
 is the best safeguard of the subject's rights, and the 
 strongest security of the magistrate's fidelity; it is the 
 surest source of public virtue, of order, of elevated 
 habits and manners; and it is the most precious pledge 
 of divine favour. To each of us, in our individual 
 capacity, who can estimate its worth! It " is a lamj) 
 to our feet, and a light to our paths;" it is the balm of 
 our sorrows, and the staff of our hopes ; as an angel 
 from heaven, cheering us on our way, it guides us 
 through the perplexed and thorny paths of this unsat- 
 isfactory life, to a state of rest, and glorious immor- 
 tality. This gospel we enjoy in its purest state. No 
 sword inculcates its authority; no stake explains its 
 doctrines. It comes to us, as it came from Jesus, in 
 the dignity of its own truth, and in the power of its 
 own efficacy. Happy for us, if we faithfully appre- 
 ciate its value. Yea, happy for our country, Ix'vond
 
 PUBLIC THANKSQIVI>'G. 301 
 
 calculation, if neglect of its principles, or contempt of 
 its Author, do not cause it to be taken away, nor im- 
 impaired vvitli human corruptions. 
 
 Such, my brethren, are the blessings for which we 
 are assembled to praise the Author and giver of them 
 all. " Great," indeed, " is the sum of them." What 
 return shall we make unto the Lord for his goodness; 
 wherewith shall we repay his love ? Alas! we have 
 nothing which we can give him, but our hearts; we 
 have nothing to offer him, but our imperfect ser- 
 vices. 
 
 We are bound, with gratitude and praise, to attri- 
 bute our blessings to their true source, the loving kind- 
 ness of our heavenly Father. This, we do in the act 
 of thanksgiving, if our hearts originate what our lips 
 express. And in the grateful overflow of praise to 
 your Maker, you will manifest your sincerity, by 
 ])eneficence to his children. While with decent festi- 
 vity, and temperate pleasure, you enjoy the viands of 
 the day, a Christian joy will not suffer you to be un- 
 unmindful of those, to whom the relics of your loaded 
 boards, will be a welcome feast. 
 
 Next to praise, and essential to it, is steady rever- 
 ence of the JMost High. This, you will manifest 
 nationally by tlie public protection, and liberal sup- 
 port, of his word and institutions; by preferring the 
 unchangeable principles of his law, to all human policy 
 and immoral expedients; by advancing none to offices 
 of honour and trust, especially to stations so elevated 
 as that which the providence of God has made vacant 
 in this state, who, in principle or in practice, despise 
 his word and disregard his name, and, above all, by 
 aspiring after such a national character, as we can 
 believe he will approve. In your individual capaci- 
 ties, you will manifest it by being uniformly righteous 
 before him ; " walking in all his commandments and 
 ordinances blameless."
 
 302 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Finally. Whether we consider the character of the 
 Deity as pourtrayed, in his works and judgements, and 
 revealed in his word; or contemplate our own situa- 
 tion with regard to our physical, social, and moral 
 state, the greatest cause of joy we have, is found in 
 the truth, that God is the Governor of the world. It 
 is our staff; the anchor of our souls; our only rational 
 ground of safety, contentment, and happiness. The 
 contemplation of it, should fill us with holy enthusi- 
 asm, and the remembrance of it, incite us to exclaim 
 with the Royal Psalmist: " Enter into his gates with 
 thanksgiving, and into his courts vtith praise: be 
 thankful unto him, and bless his name."
 
 SERJION LXXm. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Job, vii. 16. 
 
 I would not live alway, 
 
 1 HERE is nothing to which human nature is more 
 averse, than to dissolution. Death presents himself to 
 the imagination of every man, clothed with terrors. 
 He finds in most men, feelings that recoil at his ap- 
 proach, and thoughts, that regret his existence. Ex- 
 cept the few, whom religion hath made "immoveable," 
 and the few whom sorrow hath rendered desperate, 
 all men are prone to look upon death, as the greatest 
 of all terrestrial evils. Yet, it is an event which, to 
 every man, is unavoidable. To die, is the doom of 
 us all. We all, my brethren, shall be called to submit,
 
 304 ON DEATH. 
 
 in our turns, to that fate, which our nature so obsti- 
 nately dreads. If, then, there are any considerations, 
 which may reconcile us to this unavoidable doom, 
 blessed is the wisdom Avhich suggests them ; happy is 
 the prudence which engraves them on the tablet of the 
 heart! They will break, the most gloomy bondage of 
 man. They will correct the most bitter ingredient, in 
 the cup of his allotments. 
 
 To the evils to be encountered in passing through 
 the valley of death, Chr'stianity furnishes many, and 
 sufficient antidotes. But, to the existence of this 
 valley in our way, we must also be reconciled. There 
 are considerations which, when pondered with a 
 Christian spirit, render us resigned to the transitori- 
 ness of this present life, and enable us to say with the 
 venerable Job, " I would not live alway." Some of 
 these considerations it is the object of this discourse 
 lo bring to your notice. yVnd hapi)y shall I be, if, 
 through the divine assistance, 1 may suggest any 
 thoughts to your minds, which may reconcile you to 
 the necessity of your own dissolution, or to the deaths 
 of those who are gone before you. 
 
 In the first i)lace, then, let me observe, that a due 
 respect to the divine will, will deter us from wishing 
 to " live always." " It is appointed unto men once 
 to die," and this appointment is made, by the wise and 
 benignant Father of the universe. Our life is not 
 made transient, by any malignant power. It is the 
 same good Being who hath brought us into existence, 
 and leads us through the different stages of life, that 
 conducts us into " the valley of the shadow of death."' 
 Our dissolution is a part of that economy, by which he 
 accomplishes his purposes with the human race. 
 
 Now, why should we turn with regret from any 
 allotment, to which it is the will of God we should 
 submit? Do we deem it unhappy, that to the light 
 and activity of day, the darkness and sleepiness of 
 night succeeds? Do we complain tliat the year, which
 
 ON DEATH. 305 
 
 has been enlivened with the several charms of Spring, 
 Summer, and Autumn, is terminated with the drea- 
 riness of Winter? No. Our confidence in the wis- 
 dom of the Supreme Being teaches us, that night as 
 well as day, that winter as well as summer, is neces- 
 sary in its place; that the vicissitudes which he hath 
 ordained to the hours, and the months, are productive 
 of the greatest natural benefits. Why, then, should we 
 repine at the vicissitudes which he hath appointed to 
 the generation of men ? The same wisdom, which, 
 at the close of the day, requires us to lose ourselves 
 in the sleep of night, calls us at the close of life, to 
 rest in the grave. The same God who giveth the 
 earth in the end of the year, to be bound with the 
 fetters of winter, leaves life, when its spring, its sum- 
 mer, and its autumn have elapsed, to be bound awiiile 
 in the insensibility of death. The purposes of God, 
 which are dearer to every good man than any thing 
 else, are as much carried on by our dissolution, as by 
 our birth, or by our progress through any other stages 
 of our being. The tomb as well as the cradle, we 
 may safely presume, is meet for the display of his 
 power. Death, were it not subservient to his glory, 
 and fit and necessary for the creatures who are made 
 subject to it, would not have place in any part of the 
 dominions of God. That I must die, may, in itself, 
 be an awful consideration. But that I must die, con- 
 sidered as the appointment of the gracious Being who 
 made me, claims my cheerful acquiescence. For 
 whatever may be the views of the Almighty with re- 
 gard to mankind, and I have evidences enough that 
 they are views of benignity and love, the methods by 
 which he pursues them, I may feel assured, are the 
 fittest and most proper which coukl have been chosen, 
 and are parts of the scheme by which he is accom- 
 plishing the happiness of his saints, and the greatest 
 possible good of the universe. 
 VOL. II. 39
 
 306 ~ ON DEATH. 
 
 There is, indeed, in a submission to the laws, t» 
 which the all-wise Creator hath subjected our nature, 
 both safety and virtue. No man, who considers the 
 wisdom from which they have their oriiiin, and the 
 ends to which they are directed, would wish an ex- 
 emption from them. It is enough to reconcile us to 
 our mortality, that it is the will of God. That obli- 
 gation to duty which is upon a child ; that obligatioa 
 to obedience which is upon a subject; that oblii;ation 
 to submission which is upon a creature; that claim to 
 confidence which wisdom, like the Deity's, may as- 
 sert; that title to unqualified reliance which goodness, 
 like our Maker's, possesses, all cons|)ire, when God hath 
 limited our jiresent life, to restrain us from wishing to 
 " live always." Is death punitive ? It is not more than 
 we have deserved ? Is it, as we are taught, sent in 
 mercy? Let us not dare to dispute its expediency. 
 Whether it proceed from justice, or from mercy, or 
 from both, the good man knows that it is his duty, and 
 also his safety, to be entirely at the disposal of the Al- 
 mighty. It may be, that through an instinctive affec- 
 tion for being, he may, in the hour of infirmity, shrink 
 from what has the appearance of a destruction of ex- 
 istence, andbe ready to exclaim, " if it be possible, let 
 this cup pass from me." But when he considers, the 
 preference which the divine will ought to have to his 
 own wishes; that, that must be fittest and best, which 
 the Almighty hath ordained, reason and religion will 
 unite in correcting his wish, and the last exi)res$ion of 
 his lips will be, " not my will, but thine be done." 
 
 Again. We may be reconciled to the necessity of 
 dying, by considering who have passed through the 
 gate of death. " Abraham is dead, and the proj)hets!" 
 The apostles are dead, and the good men of every 
 age! Surely, it is not a fate so much to be dei)recated. 
 to which these favourites of heaven have submitted! 
 Surely, we need not be shocked at entering the path, 
 which these worthies have trodden ! It is no inconsidera-
 
 ON DEATH. 307 
 
 ble ])Oon, that death will dissipate the centuries that in- 
 tervene, and make us companions of those, who have 
 been the friends of God, and the bri°;ht models of faith, 
 and virtue, to nrankind. Our kindred, also, are dead; 
 our fathers, it may be, and our dear mothers; and the 
 friends, whom we have loved as our own souls. In a 
 world which they have left for ever, who would always 
 remain ? To the state, to which they have passed, who 
 does not sometimes solace himself with the expecta- 
 tion, of one day ^oing ? Death, e;athers us to our fathers. 
 Death, restores to us the friends of whom he had de- 
 prived us. Death, brinies the child to the long absent 
 parent, he brings the parent ^to lier often lamented 
 child. Pleasant to nature is the thought, even of 
 mingling our ashes with the ashes of our ancestors, 
 and sharing with our kindred, the repose of the grave. 
 But ravishing to the eye of faith, is the prospect of 
 rejoining their spirits in better worlds, and winging, 
 with them, the flights of immortality. .Jesus, too, our 
 blessed Redeemer, he hath passed through the gate of 
 death. And siiall we not choose to drink of the cup 
 of which he hath drank! The vale which he hath con- 
 secrated by his own presence, shall we be averse to 
 enter? There is a noble satisfaction in sharing the fate 
 of the worthy. There is a comfort, a joy, in being 
 conformed in our fortunes to those, whom we vene- 
 rate or love. How much, then, in the contemplation 
 of dissolution, must it bend the Christians mind to his 
 doom, to recollect, that his Lord summitted to die. 
 
 I know not, whether there is not a generous sentiment 
 in human nature, which amidst the universal mortality 
 of mankind, would deter a noble mind from being 
 willing to " live always," the solitary survivor of the 
 desolation of his species. But this 1 know, that if we 
 are fait.'iful, death introduces us to better company, 
 than that from which he takes us ; and that those whom 
 we leave here, will presently follow, to be added, if 
 they are worthy, to the same society. It is by death.
 
 308 ON DEATH. 
 
 that we arc most eminently brought to an " innumera- 
 ble company of angels," and to " the general assembly 
 and Church of the firstborn," and to "the spirits of just 
 men made perfect," and to Jesus the mediator. Who, 
 then, would remain always upon the earth, to be se- 
 parated by the " partition" of the flesh, from his for- 
 mer contemporaries, and the righteous of every age, 
 and to be looked upon, perhaps, by the beings of later 
 years, as a stranger and an intruder ? Better it is, to 
 share in our turns, of the common allotment ""of our 
 race. Better it is, when we have served our own ge- 
 neration, according to the will of God, to fall on 
 sleep. 
 
 I add, thirdly, that the condition 'of this present 
 state is such, that no Christian can wish to live in it al- 
 ways. Not that it becomes us, to fmd fault with the 
 circumstances of our present existence. For what it 
 is, a journey, a pil.:;riniage, a transient abode, God has 
 furnished it with accommodations, suitable and plea- 
 sant, which ought to be noticed by us with cheerful- 
 ness, and used with thankfulness. But it is a happi- 
 ness, that we have not here our everlasting abode ; 
 that this is notour rest. For to the best men, it is a 
 state of temptation, and difiicult warfare. It is cov- 
 ert^d witii snares ; it is filled witli devious paths; and 
 we are in it frail to resist, and inclined to wander. With 
 the most earnest desire to walk with God, the good man 
 fnids himself, many times, falling. He aspires, with all 
 the ardour of faith, after spiritual excellence; but, alas! 
 He feels himself weighed down by this body of sin. 
 
 It is problematical, whether our virtue oi" our trials, 
 would prevail, if our probation were j)rolcnged ; but 
 discretion would seem to plead for the shoitest expo- 
 sure to evil. The i)resent is, also, to the wisest of 
 men, a state of uneasy ignorance. Confined is our 
 knowledge. Fettered are the noble faculties of our 
 souls. Of God, and the unbounded works of God; 
 of being, and the infinite modifications of be'ng; of
 
 ON DEATH. 309 
 
 truth, and the glorious beauties, the innumerable appli- 
 cations of truth, we can here possess but a very im- 
 perfect knowledge. And, in all probability, a prolon- 
 gation of our earthly residence, would not render us 
 proportionably wiser. Successions of great minds, 
 have taken up the thread of investigation, each, where 
 his predecessor left it; and, yet, how little way, in the 
 course of ages, has one been able to carry it beyond 
 another. In these tabernacles of flesh, we can " know 
 but in part." From the most exalted pleasures of 
 intellijient beings; from the expansion and gratifica- 
 tion of the noblest faculties of our nature, we are, in a 
 great measure, restrained in our present state. It is 
 evidejitly an infancy, in which we can acquire but the 
 rudiments of knowledge. There are glorious heights, 
 there are unbounded extents of wisdom and of won- 
 ders, but, while we are confined to earth, and encum- 
 bered with flesh, we cannot attain unto them. This 
 life is, also, to the happiest, and to all men, a state of 
 vexation and sorrow. Ah ! where shall I look, to see 
 human nature unaccompanied by woe! The cries of 
 infancy; the disappointments of youth; the tribula- 
 tions of manhood ; the tears of old age, all proclaim 
 that, in this world, we are " born to trouble." No 
 man finds in it, the satisfaction he promises himself. 
 Every man may be seen, in some part or other of his 
 path, musing in sadness over the burden of his sor- 
 rows; perhaps, saying to his soul, if not to those who 
 pass by, " all is vanity, and vexation of spirit." It is 
 only in the grave that our cares, disappointments, and 
 troubles, will be terminated. There, though the ocean 
 of life be thrown into tempests, the peaceful slumber- 
 ers hear not the roar of its waves. There, when the 
 sky of the living is overcast with blackness, the happy 
 dead see not the terrors of the clouds. There, sleeps 
 in peace, the venerable Father, whom the profligacy of 
 his sons had pierced through with many sorrows. 
 And there, the fond Mother ceases, at last, to weep for
 
 310 ON DEATH. 
 
 her children, who could " not be comforted, because 
 they were not." There, too, the mind of the Patriot 
 is no more perplexed for the fate of his country ; and 
 there, the heart of the Priest, no longer trembles for 
 the Ark of God. " There," says Job, " the wicked 
 cease from troubling ; and there, the weary are at rest. 
 There, the prisoners rest together: they hear not the 
 voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there; 
 and the servant is free from his master." 
 
 Let it, then, be remembered of death, that it re- 
 leases us from the temptations, ignorance, and sorrows 
 of this probationary existence ; sorrows and tempta- 
 tions, to which we may resign ourselves, when we can 
 consider them, as incidents of a journey to a better 
 life; but which, if we were doomed to " live always" 
 among them, might dishearten our virtue, and break 
 our spirits. It was principally with a view to the suffer- 
 ings, and unsatisfactoriness of life, that the good Pat- 
 riarch exclaimed, *' 1 would not live alway." And it 
 was, probably, with a foresight of the sins and the 
 miseries to which man, when he had fallen, would be 
 exposed, by a perpetual continuance in the flesh, that 
 his merciful Creator forbade him access to the tree of 
 life, and shortened his days. It is true, in this pre- 
 sent world, we may look to tlie Cross, and be healed 
 of the wounds which sin inflicts; we are fed in the 
 ordinances of the gospel, with manna from heaven; 
 and in the influences of the Spirit, there floweth water 
 from the unfailing rock, wherewith we may be re- 
 freshed. But it is, nevertheless, a wilderness state. 
 We are beset in it with dangers, and incumbered with 
 cares. The Canaan of our rest, the land of peace and 
 pros|)erity, which our God hath promised us, is not on 
 this side of the grave. Till we have passed the stream, 
 which separates us from heaven, we are wanderers at 
 best; we sojourn amidst difliculties and sorrows; and 
 the progress from one stage of our journeyings to ano-
 
 ON DEATH. 311 
 
 ther, cliangps our stations, without diminishing our 
 disappointments, or our cares. 
 
 And here, I am brought to observe, in the fourth 
 place, that a just ronsideratign of the future life, will 
 reconcile us entirely to the transitoriness of this. If 
 to die, were to cease to be, we might, with a despe- 
 rate tenacity, cling to this present existence, chequered 
 and unsatisfactory as it is. But our citizenship is in 
 heaven. Our life, all that is worthy to be called our 
 life, is with Christ in God. We have, beyond the 
 regions of death, an inheritance of immortality. Here, 
 we are probationers, labourers, soldiers; there, we 
 enter upon the fruition of our reward. Here, we are 
 in the porch; there, we are admitted into the temple 
 of the Almighty. Here, humiliation and mortality 
 are our portion; there, there is laid up for us a crown 
 of life. Here, "we see through a glass, darkly;" 
 there, we shall see wisdom, and justice, and mercy, 
 and all the fair offspring of the Deity, face to face. 
 Here, in the blessed Jesus, though we see him not, we 
 anxiously believe; there, he will take us to a partici- 
 pation of his glory, and we shall " follow the Lamb 
 whither soever he goeth." Here, we hear of redemp- 
 tion from sin, and ignorance, and death; there, it shall 
 be fully enjoyed. Here, we are separated from the 
 vision of our best Benefactor, him, whom it is the 
 fullest expression of happiness to behold; there, we 
 shall see God. Who, then, in this region of darkness, 
 and infirmity, would " live always r" When we fasten 
 the eye of our faith, upon that state of knowledge, 
 purity, and unsullied happiness, which is reserved in 
 heaven for the faithful, can we wonder a moment, at 
 St. Paul's declaration ; " I have a desire to depart, 
 and to be with Christ." Where is the Christian, who 
 has " done justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly 
 with his God," that may not adopt the language of the 
 Apostle; " To me to die is gain?" Surely, our aver- 
 sion to dissolution will be subdued; yea, we shall
 
 312 ON DEATH. 
 
 rejoice in the transitoriness of this imperfect state, 
 when we appreciate the superior felicities, and trans- 
 cendent glories, of that heavenly existence, to which, 
 through the grace of the Redeemer, death shall intro- 
 duce us. 
 
 For let me remark, in the last place that, by his 
 death, the " Captain of our salvation" hath overcome 
 death, and made the passage through the grave, the 
 ordinary entrance to the reward of our inheritance. 
 " That which thou sowest is not quickened, except 
 it die." The seed must perish in the earth, before 
 the beauties and the glories of the plant will appear. 
 In like manner, our bodies must decay in the grave, 
 before we shall be clothed with immortality. Of his 
 sceptre, Jesus hath deprived death; the nature of the 
 King of Terrors he hath changed; it is through his 
 domain, gloomy indeed once, but now, enlightened 
 with the light of life, that opened the i)assage to this 
 heavenly kingdom. Of this passage, Jordan was typi- 
 cal to God's ancient people; and it is typical to us. 
 Its waves, to the eye of nature, may appear terrible. 
 But the " Ark of the Covenant" passes before us, and 
 the waters are rolled back on the right hand and on 
 the left. On the opposite shore, we shall not regret, 
 the wilderness we have left, but our souls will be filled 
 with " songs of deliverance." 
 
 You see, then, my Christian friends, that the tran- 
 sitoriness of the present life, is proper and eligible, 
 because it is the will of God; that in dying, we sub- 
 mit to the fate, to which the greatest and best, have 
 submitted, and go to our fathers, our kindred, and the 
 righteous of every age, in the same way which they, and 
 which Jesus our Master, hath trodden ; that the state 
 which w^e leave, though good and suitable as a state 
 of probation and pilgrimage, is yet, a state of tempta- 
 tion, ignorance and sorrow; that the life beyond the 
 grave, is nobler and better, exalting us to immortality, 
 to perfect knowledge, holiness, and happiness; to en-
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 313 
 
 larged acquaintance with God, and full enjoyment of 
 Christ; and that the monarch of the intervening grave, 
 is dismantled of his terrors, by that power of the Lord 
 Jesus, which hath overcome death, and " is able to sub- 
 due all things unto himself." What a body of motives 
 is here, to induce you, when your Creator shall call 
 you out of this life, to depart willingly ! Lay them up 
 in your memories. The hour is coming, when each 
 one of you will need them. Bless God, that he hath 
 called you to the knowledge of truths, which may sup- 
 port you under every contemplation of that mortality, 
 of which you carry the consciousness about you, and 
 which, is so often brought to your remembrance, by 
 the deaths of one and another of your friends. 
 
 And these same considerations are of powerful effi- 
 cacy, to render us resigned to the departure of those 
 who are called before us. It is tranquillizing to know, 
 that they have died by the will of God. It is sooth- 
 ing to consider, that they are joined to their ancestors, 
 and the spirits of the just. When we consider the 
 dangers and miseries of the state from which they are 
 taken, we shall be restrained from wishing them back. 
 It will much cheer us, under the sense of our own 
 bereavement, to consider, that they are gone to the 
 bosom of their God. There is holy submission incul- 
 cated, by the comforting truth, that " He who raised 
 up Christ from the dead, will also quicken their mor- 
 tal bodies." With these thoughts, then, let the rela- 
 tions and the friends of departed excellence, derive 
 consolation, and learn submission. Let it be the chief 
 concern of surviving friends, to have their affliction 
 sanctified to their souls. And let us all, my hearers, 
 when we see the aged and the 3'oung, and people of eve- 
 ry age, passing in constant succession out of the world, 
 be induced to set our own houses in order, and to re- 
 member, that we, too, must die. Let us live the life of 
 faith, and obedience; haying respect in all ways to the 
 revealed will of our God; that when our summonses 
 
 VOL. If. 40
 
 314 ON DEATH. 
 
 shall arrive, the considerations which will reconcile the 
 good man to dissolution, may be ours, and we may be 
 able to say, " Lord, here am I, do with me as seemeth 
 unto thee good."
 
 SERMON LXXIV. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Isaiah, Ixiv. 6. 
 
 We all do fade as a leaf. 
 
 1. HIS metaphor of the Prophet's, is one of the most 
 beautiful which can be found, in the sacred volume. 
 How strikingly does it describe the perishableness of 
 man. In the spring of his being, he shoots forth ten- 
 derly, and gradually expands his beauty and vigour to 
 the view. In different individuals, his form and beau- 
 ties are varied, according to the w^ill of the divine 
 Creator. He continues awhile, sometimes quiet in 
 the sunbeams, and sometimes shaken by the winds. 
 But soon he begins to change. Some blight, or 
 worm, or time's corroding influences, impairs his 
 beauty and life. He withers, dies, and falls into the 
 dust. " We all do fade as a leaf."
 
 316 ON DEATH. 
 
 The metaphor of the Prophet, marks the certainty 
 of every one's death. Every leaf, whatever its form, 
 or properties, or beauty, must eventually decay. None 
 is exempt. Even the evergreen, whicii stands through 
 all the seasons of the year, has its period at which it 
 must fail, and resign its {)lace to a succeeding genera- 
 tion. '' It is appointed unto all men once to die." 
 And one after another, whole generations of men, 
 appear and vanish, like the transient foliage of suc- 
 ceeding years. 
 
 This beautiful metaphor, also, reminds us of the 
 uncertainty of the time, of any individual's death. 
 Leaves fade of every age. And which of them is our 
 peculiar emblem, we are unable to ascertain. Some, 
 stand through \\ inter, verdant amidst the snows and 
 frosts of age. Some, are fitted by nature to enjoy and 
 adorn a short summer. Some, the concealed moth 
 secretly and unseasonably consumes. And some, are 
 nipped from the stock as soon as they appear. We 
 are unable to say, which of these fates shall be our 
 own. Few, very few, however, are the leaves which 
 survive the autumn of the year. It is much more 
 probable, that we shall be cut down in the midsummer, 
 yea, or in the very spring of life, than that we shall 
 reach the winter of old age. And if we should stand 
 through all the seasons, how soon is the whole year 
 gone ! 
 
 But, this instructive metaphor suggests to us, the 
 renovation which shall follow our decay. Nothing 
 perishes in the material world. There is, indeed, a 
 death of vegetative nature. But, it is only for a sea- 
 son. Every thing fades to be renewed. The leaves 
 which are fallen, sh.all in the spring be all replaced. 
 The Almiglity " turneth" them " to destruction; again 
 he saith, come again" ye offspring of my power : 
 when, lo, th(? tree which seemed desolate, is reanimat- 
 ed ; and Irom the earth, with which its faded leaves 
 were mingled, llierc arises a new covering for it,-
 
 ON DEATH. 317 
 
 of transcendent freshness and beauty.- Thus, in the 
 material world, decay is invariably succeeded by life. 
 The grain dies in the earth, and is quickened. The 
 sun which sets, rises. The leaves which fall, are re- 
 stored in wonderful order, and each, in its own pecu- 
 liar form and properties. And who, that contemplates 
 these things; and observes the power and economy of 
 God, in the natural world, can doubt his ability or 
 willingness, to preserve, in the moral and spiritual 
 world, the nobler beings to whom he has given exis- 
 tence ! Who, that beholds all men fading as a leaf, 
 and reflects upon their superior endowments can 
 avoid embracing the hope, that there shall be for them, 
 a glorious spring, in which the Almighty Father 
 shall say, " come again, ye children of men." Bles- 
 sed be his name, that " he hath begotten us" to an as- 
 surance of this " lively hope, by the resurrection of 
 Jesus Christ from the dead." The gospel confirms, 
 and enlarges the virtuous expectations of nature. By 
 its light, we see a beautiful analogy in all the operations 
 of the Most High. The do(;trine of our immortality, 
 converts every plant into a preacher. Even the affect- 
 ing remark of the Prophet, that " we all do fade as a 
 leaf," reminds us that we shall be renewed; and, dis- 
 tinguished lot! renewed in a resemblance to the tree of 
 life, whose leaves neither change nor fall, but flourish 
 for ever in immortal beauty, by the river of the city 
 of God. 
 
 Having thus developed the truths, which the Pro- 
 phet has so beautifully wrai)ped in the text, let us ask 
 ourselves, what influence they should have upon our 
 lives ? 
 
 And, in the first place, do " we all fade as a leaf?" 
 What a foundation is this for humility. We are prone 
 to be [)roud of our wisdom, our beauty, our accom- 
 plishments, our strength, and our wealth; and to nou- 
 rish, enjoy and display these, constitutes a great part 
 of the business of mankind. But, what a satire upon
 
 318 ON DEATH. 
 
 all this, is the text ! How should it check all the pride 
 of life, to know, that it must end in the abasement of 
 the grave ! Come ye beautiful and young ; ye wise, 
 and accomplished ; descend into the cliambers where 
 sleep the dead. Open that coffin. Lovely in death is the 
 beauteous ruin it contains. But ah ! on that pale 
 cheek was once the roses hue ! That eye, once spark- 
 led with the diamond's lustre. Those limbs, were 
 once the seats of elegance and dignity. Alas, how 
 changed! Faded as the fallen leaf; and hastening to 
 be converted into dust! Are you proud of your per- 
 sonal accomplishments? Have the honors and charms 
 of this life, captivated your heart? Remember that 
 to this state, you must presently come. 
 
 Again. Do mankind fall like the leaves, of every 
 age, and can no one ascertain the time of his death? 
 Let us not presume ui)on our lives. Let us not flatter 
 ourselves, that the day of our dissolution is far distant. 
 It is blinding ourselves on the edge of a precipice. It 
 is refusing to listen to the voice of experience, and of 
 l)rovidence, while we yield ourselves to the delusion 
 of our hearts. For what ground have we, on which to 
 think our lives are safe, which they had not, who arc 
 now no longer among the living ? Are we j'oung? So 
 were they. Are we healthy? So were they. Are 
 we useful in the world, and necessary to our families? 
 So were they. Are wc enlisted under the banners 
 of faith, and fortified with the armour of virtue ? So 
 were they. Yet, in the midst of life, they are cut down. 
 Their hopes and expectations in this world, are pe- 
 rished. They are snatched from the scenes, which 
 they seemed destined to beautify, for many years to 
 come, before they had expanded half their charms. 
 We are of the same substance with them. To the 
 arrows which pierced them, we are ever exposed. 
 And while we are busy in life, and letting our hearts 
 cheer us with many joys, the fatal shaft may be wing- 
 ing its way towards us. which shall lay us in the
 
 ON DEATH. 319 
 
 grave. What a motive is this, to diligence and vvatch- 
 fuhiess! If we have yet an interest in the Redeemer's 
 kingdom to secure, what an inducement does the un- 
 certainly of life furnish, and do it " while if is called 
 to-day." The realities of eternity at stake, and the 
 probation in which they may be secured, liable to be 
 terminated with the passing hour ! *' Whatsoever thine 
 hand findfth to do, do it with all thy might, for there 
 is no wisdom, knowledge, nor device in the grave, 
 whither thou art hastening." 
 
 Once more. Are we destined, like the face of 
 nature, to be renovated after our decay? Let us not 
 be dismayed by our own mortality, nor by that of our 
 friends. The knowledge of a resurrection, is suffi- 
 cient to reconcile us to all the painful concomitants of 
 death. When our virtuous friends decay, the idea 
 that their spirits have ascended to the care and enjoy- 
 ment of their God, should alleviate the sting of our 
 bereavement. And in the anticipation of our own 
 dissolution, the spirits of Christians should be sup- 
 ported, by the prospect of the glory reserved with 
 Christ, and the assurance, that he " will never leave 
 them, nor forsake them." Our chief concern is, 
 while we are passing through this mutable state, to 
 lead a life of faith, and obedience; that in the last 
 day, we may not be gathered for the burning, but be 
 found among " the trees of righteousness, the planting 
 of the Lord," which he will glorify. 
 
 These are the truths suggested to our hearts, by the 
 affecting declaration, that " we all do fade as a leaf." 
 Ever and anon, is the providence of God enforcing his 
 Prophet's observation. And the continual removal of 
 acquaintance or friends, in the morning or meridian of 
 their days, teaches us all, the precariousness of the 
 life upon which we are prone to lavish our fondest 
 expectations. "The voice said, Cry. And he said, 
 What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the
 
 320 ON DEATH. 
 
 goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field. The 
 grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of our 
 God shall stand for ever;" and this is the word wliich, 
 \)y the gospel, is preached unto you.
 
 SERMON LXXV. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 Isaiah, xl. 6, "7, 3. 
 
 The voice said, Cnj. And he said, What shall Icryf 
 All jlesh is f:ras.s; and all the goodliness thereof is 
 as the flower of the field. The grass wither eth; the 
 flower fadeth; because the spirit of the Lord bloweth 
 upon it. Surehj, the people is grass. The grass 
 withereth, the flower fadeth; but the word of our 
 God shall stand for ever. 
 
 Interesting and affecting passage! We feel, 
 blessed Spirit of the Highest, the truth of thy descrip- 
 tion ! We thank tiiee for tlie consolation, with which 
 thou hast kindly softened the shade, in this too just 
 picture of human fragility! Your hearts, my brethren. 
 
 VOT,. II. 41
 
 322 ON DEATH. 
 
 are attuned to the contemplation of this subject; and 
 it will be my endeavour in discoursing from it, to set 
 before you, the vanity and transitoriness of the present 
 life; and the joy to be derived, amidst its changes and 
 decay, from the purport and certainty of " the word of 
 our God." 
 
 Ir is a humiliating lesson we have first to consider. 
 The love of ourselves is so strong; we, with so much 
 pride and ardour, exult in the possession of being; our 
 earthly projects arc formed and pursued, with such 
 high expectations; and we behold, with so much com- 
 placence, the attainments of the wise, the amiable, 
 and the acconiplishcd, that our spirits faint within us, 
 we are humbhui to the dust, when compelled to real- 
 ize, that man in all the glories of his best estate, is 
 but a transient beijig; that as a flower of the field, so 
 he flourisheth. 
 
 The lesson is painful, as well as humiliating. There 
 are objects and pleasures which, with magnetic force, 
 hold us to earth. The actual possession of the pre- 
 sent existence, makes us anxious to jirolong it. We 
 form attachments, which are unavoidable; and the 
 severing of these, is the cutting of the heart-strings. 
 The endearments of our condition; the esteem of our 
 fellow men; the acquisition of the means of ha|)pi- 
 ness, or of usefulness, all bind us to life; and in our 
 friends, they delight us in their being, and make us 
 solicitous for its prolongation. Under these circum- 
 stances, the voice is chilling which proclaims in our 
 ears, " All flesh is grass." It comes like a blast over 
 the feelings and affections of nature. It is not till 
 age, or disease, has exhausted the strength to live, and 
 rendered "the grasshopi)er a burden;" or till the 
 world has lost its charms, and hope withdrawn her 
 bow from its clouds, that any but those, who seem 
 almost to have heaven in hand, can hear, without re- 
 luctance, that death is waiting his opportunity, to tear 
 them from all that is dear, and lay them in the dust.
 
 OxN DEATH. 323 
 
 Hence it is, that men fiy from the contemplation of 
 their mortality. There is nothing on which their 
 attention is, with so much rliiTjculty, fixed. They 
 wish the hostile day, which shall dismantle them of 
 all their goodlincss, for ever distant; and what they 
 wish, almost believe. Rivetted to present objects, 
 deluded by the llattering aspect life assumes, proud of 
 their acquisitions and |^)ovvers, and entranced in their 
 joys, they care not to admit the mournful, mortifying 
 consideration, that the scene in which they are busy, 
 is a fleeting scene; its a(*tors perishable; and all its 
 charms and iilories, a vain sliovv. 
 
 let, there is no lesson we are more frequently called 
 to learn; none which tlie providence of God more im- 
 pressively inculcates; which experience teaches with 
 such pathos, and solemn repetition. What is the 
 funeral scene to which we are daily summoned? What 
 are the insignia of the places, in all ages, hallowed to 
 receive the dead? What the result of every sober 
 review of the y(ars we have past? Wliat, in a word, 
 are the annals of our race, but elucidations, affecting 
 elucidations, of the Prophet's metaphor? Men have 
 "come up as flowers, and been cut down; and never 
 have continued in one stay." Some, in the bud have 
 been nipt, and never opened their properties to the 
 light. Others, have expanded their graceful forms, 
 and begun to give their goodly fragrance to the world; 
 but, before noon, have shed their leaves, and died. 
 Others, have survived the day, but have decayed more 
 rapidly than they matured, and, shorn of their beauty, 
 have presently perished. Some few, stand through 
 the season ; but much do they fade, and suddenly van- 
 ish. The wind passeth over them, and they are gone; 
 and " the place which once knew them knoweth them 
 no more." All, in their turns, return to their dust. 
 The lowly, on whose plaiimess no eye bestows an ob- 
 serving look ; and the lofty, on whose goodliness ex- 
 pectation fastens its fondest notice, alike expand, to
 
 324 ON DEATH. 
 
 perish. In no age; in no condition, may we fpol our- 
 selves secure from this inevitable decay. Do we trust 
 in our youth, or strength ; and rejoice that the current 
 yet moves sprightly in our veins? See here, while age 
 stands by and survives, the younc; and the i)roniisinc; 
 cut down, put into darkn<'ss at the bri:;ht midday of 
 life. Do we fortify ourselves with our wisdom, or 
 skill; or rely on our usefulness among men? See 
 there, the lamps of knowledge, which illumined the 
 world, put out; the skill, which could check disease 
 in others, unable to preserve itself; and im|)ortant 
 characters taken from the world, when it should seem, 
 they can least be spared. The destroying tyrant is 
 never at rest. All are exposed to his shafts. His 
 victims are often taken from the safest paths; and the 
 young and useful do most frequently magnify his tri- 
 umphs. 
 
 Not that we are to think, chance rules the destinies 
 of men. He only can extinguish life, who kindled it. 
 "The grass withereth, the llower fadeth, because the 
 Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it." Both reason 
 and Scripture, refer us to the Deity as determining the 
 boundaries of every man's life. " He taketh away 
 their breath, and they die." " He changeth their 
 countenance and sendeth them away." " He destroy- 
 eth the hope of man." 
 
 It may well surprise us, to find death in his crea- 
 tion. Nothing can account for its dominion over the 
 fairest of his works, but the unfortunate transgression 
 of the parents of the race. Kxperienee confirms the 
 melancholy tale, which the Scriptures narrate. Na- 
 ture has found herself incumbered with a debt; all 
 ages have been subject to woes and deaths; \\hieh, 
 unless we renounce all belief in an active Sovereign, 
 must be considered as tokens of displeasure. Every 
 man carries in himself, the evidence of a fallen state; 
 for, though formed with cajiacities for (^t«'rnal |)rogres- 
 sion in virtue and happiness, and endacd by his Maker,
 
 ON DEATH.. 325 
 
 with an unconquerable love of being, lie has within 
 him the punitory sentence, " dust thou art, and unto 
 dust thou shalt return." 
 
 Is all, then, fleeting that concerns man? Must the 
 bright charms of life be all dissolved? While the soul 
 fancies itself possessed of substantial being, and aspires 
 to a relation with eternity, is it connected only with 
 the passing moment? And nothing permanent but 
 mutability? If it were so, our hearts might sicken at 
 a life so vain. Appalled at death's dominion over the 
 works of God, we might be urged to ask, with Job, in 
 his anguish, " wherefore hast thou made all men for 
 nought?" The stupendous scenes and events, with 
 whicii we are conversant, would seem like vast ar- 
 rangements for no i)urpose; like mighty efforts for 
 no end. But this, is not, cannot be, the case. We 
 are recalled from the declaration of the perishableness 
 of man, to the certainty of the designs and promises 
 of God. " Tiic word of our God shall stand for 
 ever." 
 
 What this word is, may be easily ascertained. At 
 the mention of it, the Prophet is transported from his 
 mournful theme, to the times and achievements of the 
 Messiah. From the rapture with which he immedi- 
 ately hails the glad tidings of Zion; from the e\pli- 
 citness with w hich he speaks of the coming of the 
 Lord, and passes to the contemplation of him, in the 
 tender acts of his oftice; and from the termination of 
 his fervtnt strain in the assurance, that they who wait 
 on the Lord, shall renew their strength, and mount 
 uj) with wings as eagles; it is evident, he had in view, 
 the eternal ])urpose of God in the revelation of his 
 ' Son. Indeed, an inspired Ai)ostle, having quoted the 
 passage which leads our thoughts, has remarked on 
 its concluding clause, " this is the word, which by the 
 gospel is preached unto you." 
 
 Now, the grand i)urport of the gospel is, to exhibit 
 death subdued, and open to man the prospect of eternal
 
 326 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 life and glory. It proclaims to us the gracious deter- 
 mination of the Most High, to recover his fallen crea- 
 tures from that death, to whicii th.ey have become 
 subject; and by the counsels of his infinite wisdom, 
 and efforts of his Almighty power, to raise tiiem, from 
 glory to glory, to a full and perpetual enjoyment of 
 his presence and heavenly kingdom. Do we ask, how 
 the amazing design is to be accomplished ? His Son 
 is revealed, coming from the bosom of the Father, in 
 the greatness of his strength, to arrest the monarch of 
 the tomb, and break his sceptre ; to burst the prisons 
 which contain his victims, and strike off the fetters 
 with which they are bound ; and to unbar before then), 
 the portals of everlasting glory. Do we ask, how 
 we, who are passing to corruption, can be capacitated 
 for the benefits of the great behert? "Behold, he 
 shows us a mystery; we shall not all sh^ep, but we 
 shall all be changed; in a moment, in the twinkling of 
 an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet siiall sound, 
 and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we 
 shall be changed." The way is i)ointed out by his 
 infallible wisdom, and the means are furnished from 
 his exhaustless treasure; and all, who will avail them- 
 selves of the glorious salvation, by complying with its 
 conditions, have the joyful assurance, that when "the 
 earthly house of this their tabernacle is dissolved, they 
 have a building of God, an house not made with 
 hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 
 This is the infinite purpose of God, as revealed in 
 his word ; to free his offspring from the dominion of 
 death; that he may restore to them their resemblance 
 to the divine likeness, and exalt them to everlasting 
 life. To this gracious design. Time, from the com- 
 mencement of his flight, and the great movements of 
 the divine government, have had constant reference. In 
 its accomplishment, this visible scene, with all its 
 events and obscurities, shall issue, and the intentions 
 of the Almighty towards this part of his universe, have
 
 ON DEATH. 327 
 
 their august completion. Immutable in his purposes, 
 and, " able" by his infinite power, " to subdue all 
 things to hiaiself," though men decay in sad succes- 
 sion, and no trace remains visible, of the life that has 
 fled ; though all nature seem subject to the ruthless 
 havoc of time; yea, though the earth should dissolve, 
 and the heavens with their host pass away, his coun- 
 sel shall stand, and lie will accomplish his pleasure; 
 his " word shall not pass away." 
 
 Here, then, is a permanent point; a rock of refuge 
 from the dismal mutability of every thing about us. 
 This system of change, tiiis scene of mortality, is con- 
 ducted by the unerring hand of the Most High. Out 
 of it shall spring the accomplishment of unfathom- 
 able designs. It is his steadfast purpose, to bring 
 the children whom he has chosen, to ineffable bliss and 
 glory, in his kingdom; "and, though after their skins, 
 worms destroy these bodies, yet in their flesh shall 
 they see God." 
 
 In this view of the transitoriness of our present 
 condition, our minds are tranquillized. Were wo 
 compelled to believe, that this short, delusive, being, 
 is our all ; that we must be stripped for ever of life, 
 of knowledge, of virtue, of all we hold dear ; and iu 
 the corruption of the grave, have the end of our exis- 
 tence; we well might fly from the thought of our fate. 
 It were sufficient to cast a gloom over every hour of 
 our lives! But, have we " a captain of salvation," 
 appointed by the Highest? Is he " the resurrection 
 and the life?" And sliall those, who believe in him, 
 be brought through the vale of darkness, into the pre- 
 sence of his Father, and participation of his glory? 
 Then may we consider, without being overwhelmed 
 with the thought, that God will bring us to death, and 
 to " the house appointed for all living." 
 
 B-HJt it is in the dissolution of our friends, that we 
 feel most sensibly the vanity of life. When these dear 
 objects of our fond affections are taken away, we are
 
 328 ON DEATH. 
 
 more deeply distressed by the perishableness of man. 
 even than when we contemplate our ow^i mortality. 
 And if death were their utter extinction, their decay 
 would, indeed, be insupportable. For who could 
 bear to think, that their hope, their love, and all their 
 goodly powers, were annihilated ; and they, for ever, 
 struck out from the works and care of God! Who 
 could sustain the reflection, that they are bound with 
 everlasting fetters; and shall slumber, senseless, in 
 their dark, mouldering beds, through the long, long, 
 endless, duration of eternity ! If ages shall revolve on 
 them without their awaking; if being shall continue 
 for ever, without their having any interest in it, alas 
 that we have known the objecrs, who have bound our 
 affections to their fate! But, blessed be God, we are 
 not left to these dishc^artening opinions. They are re- 
 deemed by him from death. Out of decay they shall 
 rise in a more glorious existence. His word " shall 
 stand for ever;" and it has declared, that they, who 
 have " washed their robes, and made them white in 
 the blood of the Lamb, "are passed from death imtolife; 
 and shall die no more. This is the description he has 
 given us of tiieir condition ; " they are before the throne 
 of God, and serve him day and nigiit in his temi)le ; 
 and he that sittetli on the throne shall dwell among 
 them. They shall hunger no more; neither thirst any 
 more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any 
 heat; for the Lamb, which is in the midst of the 
 throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living 
 fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all 
 tears from their eyes." Invaluable corrective of life's 
 bitterest sorrow ! With this antidote to the perisha- 
 bleness of man, we can support ourselves under the 
 departure of our Christian friends. Affection is con- 
 soled, by clinging to the idea of their eternal being; 
 and hope, brings a precious beam of comfort into the 
 bereaved bosom, in the sentiment of presently rejoin- 
 ing them, in their exalted state.
 
 ON DEATH. 329 
 
 Indeed in the extensive field, in which the gospel 
 places us, the transient events of time; the perishable 
 life, with which we here delight us ; nay, this little 
 earth, on which we make a momentary stay, are in- 
 considerable objects. How do we rise above the 
 transitoriness of the present scene ; how do its hopes 
 and prospects, its joys and pursuits, sink in our esti- 
 mation, when we consider eternity as our sphere, 
 God as our portion, and heaven as our rest! When 
 we reflect on our rt^al condition and expectations; 
 when we behold in the achievements of the Redeemer 
 the point of death's spear blunted; and the cloud 
 which rendered mortality terrible, removed; when, 
 through the promises of the unfailing word, the glories 
 of our future destination burst upon our view, pure, 
 blissful, immortal, does not the dissolution of this 
 temporal life, seem but an incident to the mighty 
 whole? Are we not ready with the Apostle to ex- 
 claim, " O death, where is thy sting! O grave, where 
 is thy victory !" 
 
 From the contemplation of this subject we learn, 
 my heann^, with how little wisdom we rely on the 
 hopes, pursuits, and expectations of this vain world; 
 and how much it behoves us to attend to the perma- 
 nent concerns, which we have in the gospel. Is this 
 life fleeting as the breeze? Are all its charms and 
 glories, like the evening brilliance, transient; and fol- 
 lowed by darkness? Must we all fade like the grass, 
 and, divested of every temporal acquirement, lie down 
 in the dust? Then let us cease to use this state, as if 
 it were eternal, and its perishable joys, sufficient to 
 satisfy our desires. But shall " this corruptible put 
 on incorruption ; and this mortal put on immortality?" 
 Amidst the uncertainties of life, and rapid decays of 
 the generations of men, is there a steadfast purpose of 
 Jehovah, to bring many sons unto glory? By this, let 
 us hold ; and govern ourselves by the obligations it 
 imposes. Reflecting nature looks for something per- 
 voL. II. 42
 
 330 ON DEATH. 
 
 manent. His word, like a rock unmoved by the 
 storms and fluctuations of life's ocean, offers itself to 
 our spirits, fluttering over the perilous scene; and on 
 it, we may rest; and feel ourselves safe, till his Al- 
 mighty arm comes to our deliverance. 
 
 Finally. As rational beings, capable of improving 
 the events which pass before us, it becomes us my 
 brethren, to consider the end of " all flesh," and seri- 
 ously to lay it to heart. To the young, the sprightly, 
 the busy votaries of the world, I'woukl call, and urge 
 them to awake from their dreams of vanity, to a 
 knowledge of the insufficiency of that happiness, which 
 is passing away. The objects you pursue, the thoughts 
 on which you rely, are lighter than vanity, and un- 
 worthy of your powers, compared with the views, 
 to which you may attain. Trust me, my friends, you 
 have immortal spirits, which death does not affect. 
 Lay hold of the means, of bringing them to a glory 
 and felicity which surpass your conception, that an 
 all-gracious God has fiirnislied in the sospel. Live 
 by its laws. Weigh soberly its claim to your reverence. 
 And through the merits of its Author, seek, in the 
 discharge of every religious and moral duty, for glory, 
 honour, and immortality. Then, on the confines of 
 the untried scene, to which time is imperceptibly bear- 
 ing you, you shall feel the peace and joy, \\ hich the 
 world can neither give, nor take away; and \\ ith infi- 
 nite satisfaction, you shall, hereafter, felicitate your- 
 selves on the course you pursued, when the Saviour of 
 the world, who is now on the right hand of the Father, 
 shall descend, " not crowned with thorns, nor to bear 
 the humiliations of the cross," but to administer the 
 everlasting justice of the Almighty, and gather his 
 redeemed into unspeakable joy. Let none of us delay 
 to have our interest in the heavenly world made sure. 
 The moments fly, which are carrying us to the tomb. 
 Soon shall "the silver cord be loosed, and the golden 
 bowl be broken ;" soon shall "the keepers of the house
 
 ON DEATH. .331 
 
 tremble," " and all the daughters of music be brought 
 low." Perhaps, the hour is now receiving its commis- 
 sion, at the approach of which, the looks of our friends, 
 and the voice of our physician, shall tell us, we must 
 die. Happy for us, if, on the rapid and eventful tide, 
 which is wafting us from the present scene, we act as 
 prudence and wisdom dictate. Yea, inexpressibly hap- 
 py, if we so conduct ourselves, as neither to be deluded 
 by the life which now is ; nor debarred from the eternal 
 glory and happiness of that, which is to come !
 
 SERMON LXXVl. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 
 
 II Samcel, xii. 22, 23. 
 
 While the child iva^yet alive, I fasted and icept; for I 
 said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to 
 me, that the child maij live? But now he is dead, 
 wherefore should J fast? Can I brin^ him back 
 again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to 
 me. 
 
 have in this chapter, one of the most beautiful, 
 and affecting narratives, which the sacred volume 
 contains. A parent, even David, the good king of 
 Israel, is introduced, fasting and weeping, and be- 
 seeching God for his child, grievously sick. Op- 
 pressed with unutterable woe, the distressed father lies 
 all night upon the earth, and is unable to eat bread. 
 His fears are realized: the child dies. Filled with
 
 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 333 
 
 compassion for their royal master, the servants "feared 
 to tell him that the child was dead ; for they said, 
 While the child was yet alive we spake unto him, and 
 he would not hearken to our voice ; how will he then 
 vex himself if we tell him that the child is dead?" 
 But their sadness and stillness spoke more than words, 
 to the anticipating eye of parental anxiety. " David 
 perceived that the child was dead." What now is his 
 conduct? He arises from the earth, washes and 
 anoints himself and changes his apparel; he g:oes 
 " into the house of the Lord and worships;" returned 
 to his own house, he takes the sustenance which na- 
 ture requires, and exhibits a fine model of resignation 
 to his wondering family, in the memorable words of 
 my text; " While the child was yet alive, I fasted and 
 wept; for I said, Who can tell whether God will be 
 gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he 
 is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him 
 back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return 
 to me." 
 
 I will not detain you, to enlarge upon the fact, that 
 it was the hand of the Lord which struck David's 
 child with the sickness, that terminated in death. 
 Whoever believes in his providence, and is acquainted 
 with his word, must know that all diseases act by his 
 permission, and are under his control. It would be 
 utterly irreconcileable with the truth of his being and 
 government, to suppose that the lives of any of his 
 creatures, are given a prey to chance, and that he, 
 uninterested and unmoved, beholds their destruction. 
 A sparrow falls not to the ground, without his notice; 
 and, surely, his intelligent children are " of more value 
 than many sparrows." 
 
 Nor need I stay long to illustrate the piopriety of 
 David's conduct, in betaking himself to God, in behalf 
 of his child, while it yet lingered on this side of the 
 grave. It is obvious to the least reflection, that to 
 continue life, as well as to give it. is the prerogative of
 
 334 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 
 
 the Almighty. Prayer, therefore, should be made to 
 him, whenever, in our own case, or in the case of 
 others, for whom wa are concerned, we need the in- 
 tervention of his omnipotent hand. Riglt it is, " and 
 ourbounden duty," that whenever sickness endangers 
 life, we should have recourse to the skill and means 
 with which he hath, of his abundant mercy, furnished 
 the earth for our use. But for their efficacy, they are 
 dependent upon his blessing. He only, to whose 
 power all the prodtictions of nature owe their virtues, 
 from the " cedar of Lebanon, to the hyssop which 
 springeth out of the wall," can render their application 
 effectual to the recovery of departed health. It is he, 
 who sendeth forth the destroying angel, for the accom- 
 plishment of his purposes ; and he, only, can interrupt 
 his progress, and say, "It is enough; stay now thy 
 hand." 
 
 Suffice it to have said thus much, upon the agency 
 of the divine hand, in allotting us sickness or health, 
 and upon the propriety of applying to the Most High, 
 as the ablest i)hysician in the day of disease. It may 
 often happen, that his will may be adverse to our 
 wishes. But as the righteous, do always offer their 
 supplications with perfect submission to the divine 
 wisdom, this should not be an occasion of grief. On 
 the contrary, when we have been faithful in our 
 prayers, and faithful in the use of such means, as skill, 
 and prudence have directed, we should acquiesce in 
 the issue, whatever it may be. 
 
 Which leads me to fix your attention upon the 
 beautiful picture, of reasonable, and holy resignation, 
 which the closing scene in the sacred narrative, offers 
 to your contemplation. Here, are two things worthy 
 of our particular consideration ; the reasons of David's 
 resignation ; and the manner in which it manifested 
 itself. 
 
 We will first advert, to the grounds of his resigna- 
 tion; "Can I bring him hnck again? I shall go to
 
 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 335 
 
 him, but he shall not return to me." The good 
 Psalmist had done, as every pious parent will do, in 
 similar circumstances; he had bowed himself before 
 the Most High God, and besought him right humbly 
 for his child. Death had signified it to be the divine 
 pleasure, that the child should be taken to another 
 stare of existence. To resist, would be vain ; to repine 
 would be fruitless. Our grief may unman ourselves; 
 it may distress our friends; it may unfit us for the 
 discharge of the duties of life; it may oftend our God; 
 but it can never call back from the tomb, the beloved 
 objects upon whom death hath once fixed his unre- 
 lenting hand. They hear not our sighs; they regard 
 not our tears. Though rivers of waters should run 
 down our cheeks; though we should give up all the 
 pleasures and pursuits of life, and devote our days and 
 nights to mourning, it would be of no avail. The 
 spirit once fled, returns no more. We " cannot bring 
 it back again." It is the appointment of that Being, 
 who will not condescend to dispute with us, his right 
 to the creatures of his hand. His will, must be done. 
 Reason, therefore, on this ground, combined her voice 
 with religion's, in inducing the Psalmist to endure, 
 with manly submission, what he was unable to amend. 
 It is true, it would be a melancholy fortitude which 
 these reflections produce, if it were not strengthened, 
 and cheered by another consideration. Though fate 
 forbad David to call back to his embrace, his departed 
 child, was he separated from him for ever? Was the 
 spark of life which had been kindled in his babe, 
 extinguished eternally ? Was the little oflspring of his 
 body, struck out of all being; born only to die, fated 
 to a shor<^er and more joyless existence, than the idle 
 gossamer that floats upon the air? Verily, to the 
 tender heart of the affectionate king, the thought had 
 been insupportable. But he was consoled with far 
 other expectations. The spark of being which the 
 Almighty had kindled in his child, was kindled to
 
 336 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 
 
 bum for ever. Messiah had consecrated it to immor- 
 tality. "I shall go to him," though "he shall not 
 return to mc." 
 
 Even in the prospect of being joined to our departed 
 friends, in the noiseless tomb, nature finds a solace, 
 suited to the gloomy state of her feelings, in the hour 
 of her bereavement. But David, had sung the happi- 
 ness of walking " through the valley of the shadow of 
 death, supported and comforted by God's rod and 
 staff." He had proclaimi;d on his insi)ired harp, the 
 satisfaction vviiich the faithfid will find, when they 
 behold God's face in righteousness, and awake up from 
 the sleep of death, created anew after his likeness. 
 We may, therefore, presume, tiiat his views were ele- 
 vated above the repose, which he should find with his 
 child in the peaceful grave. Faith, doubtless, carried 
 his mind forward to another state, in which, tiie beau- 
 teous bud that is removed from this inclement world, 
 before it is blown, expands in wonderful, and unfading 
 perfection. He thought of heaven. Hope, the insep- 
 arable companion of faitli, refreshed his heart with tlie 
 promise of a period, in which he should find his little 
 one, in Abraham's bosom. It was not, therefore, a 
 <'ause of dejection, that he could not bring his child 
 " back again." God's ways were perfect. It was 
 enough, and he rejoiced that he could say, " I shall 
 go to him, but lie shall not return to me." 
 
 A resignation, grounded on such considerations as 
 these, must have blessed and exalted the Psalmist's 
 character. Let us briefly notice, the manner in which 
 it manifested itself. Behold, he, who, careless of 
 attire, lay weeping on the earth, arises and washes 
 himself, and changes his apparel. He, whom no con- 
 sideration could draw from the place, where his child 
 lay sick, goes forth spontaneously " into the house of 
 the Lord, and worships." He, whom tiie elders of 
 his house had entreated in vain, to receive some suste- 
 nance, himself gives orders to set on bread. He.
 
 ©N THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 33T 
 
 wliorm his servants " feared to tell that the child was 
 dead," leaves their astonished minds below his forti- 
 tude, and discourses with them on the reasonableness 
 and propriety of submission. How majestic in his 
 affliction ! What greatness and peace in resignation 
 like this! There is nothing here, of the coldness of 
 the stoic, or of the disgusting hardihood of the unbe- 
 liever. David's heart was tender. We have seen, 
 during the illness of his child, and may learn from 
 many incidents of his life, that he felt most sensibly 
 what only parents feel. But his acquiescence, sprung 
 from a sense of duty. It was the effort of a great 
 mind, greatly endowed with divine grace, and anxious, 
 in all things, to honour God. 
 
 It is worthy of particular observation, that the first 
 step of the Psalmist, in the day of his sorrow, is to » 
 " the house of the Lord." As soon as he had attired 
 himself in the garments of decency, he went into the 
 temple. There, we may presume, he confessed his 
 sins to his Maker, especially that unfortunate depar- 
 ture from the law of God, which had been the occa- 
 sion of the death of the child. Tiiere, we may sup- 
 pose, he humbled himself in his prayer, and acknow- 
 ledged the justice of the Almighty. There, we may 
 believe, he sought the consolation and support of that 
 grace, which descendeth from heaven upon the afflicted 
 soul, as the dew upon the grass when it languisheth. 
 His conduct, my brethren, is worthy of imitation. I 
 know not w here the children of sorrow should go, if 
 not to the house of their heavenly Father. It is in 
 the holiness of the sanctuary, that that *' beauty" is 
 found, which the Prophet was to give instead of 
 " ashes," to those " who mourned in Zion." It is in 
 the sacred vessels of the temple, that the " oil of joy" 
 is kept, which God's people are to have " for mourn- 
 ing." And here, we trust, when we are assembled 
 " in his name," he, Immanuel, is " in the midst of us," 
 who furnishes from the wardrobe of heaven, " the 
 
 VOL. II. 4^^
 
 338 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. y 
 
 garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Arc 
 you, then, bereaved, or afflicted ? Fc\il not to seek 
 your Maker in the house which he hath chosen " to 
 place his name there." " Go into his tabenacle, and 
 i'all low on your knees before his footstool." Humble 
 yourselves in his sight, under his heavy hand. Pour 
 out your griefs before him, and beseech him to speak 
 peace to your perturbated bosoms. Trust me, he is a 
 "refuge in distress, a present help in the needful time 
 of trouble." David went into his sanctuary, and was 
 strengthened. And his God, is your God; powerful 
 as a Comforter; at whose word, the gloomy clouds of 
 sorrow will vanish, and the impetuous tossings of your 
 hearts, bo still. 
 
 The subject we have contemplated, thou::h singu- 
 larly appropriate to those whom providence has be- 
 reaved of tlieir children, is to us all, both a picture 
 and an encomium, of resignation. In vain do we afflict 
 our souls, for any of the dead. We cannot " bring 
 them back again." But we have duties to discharge, 
 while wc are continued here; and religion holds out 
 to us the hope, that we shall find them again, when 
 our probation is accomplished. We "shall go to 
 them!" Blessed assurance, in this region of mortality! 
 The tender parent, whose breasts have nourislnnl, and 
 whose prayers have blessed us, slumbers in the dust. 
 The lovely child, whose life and qualities were just 
 exjranding to view, is cropped by an untimely blast. 
 The friend of our bosoms, who was dear to us as our 
 own souls, is gone, irrecoverably gone, to that " bourn, 
 whence no traveller returns," We think with sadn(;ss, 
 that they once were. We sigh with anguish, that tiiey 
 will be here no more. But we " shall go to them." 
 We shall lie down in the grave together, and our ashes 
 will be mingled with theirs. In the morning of the 
 resurrection, we shall awake with them. Before the 
 throne of the Lamb, we shall a|)|)ear together. If we 
 have been as little cliiklreii. we shall enter with them
 
 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 339 
 
 into the kingdom of heaven, where there shall be no 
 more sorrow, separation, nor death ; " and God shall 
 wii>e away all tears from every eye." Surely, my 
 friends, if this were delusion, it were a delusion to be 
 prized above all truth. But when we have it assured 
 to us, on the word of God ; when we have it con- 
 firmed, by the testimony of Jesus; when we see the 
 heathen Sage, the Jewish Patriarch, and the Christian 
 Apostle, entertaining the same hope, it ought to produce 
 in us, under all the dispensations of the Most High, 
 a conduct emulous of David's excellence. " While 
 the child," the parent, or friend " is yet alive," it is 
 becoming to fast and weep; " for who can tell, whe- 
 ther God will be gracious, that they may live." But 
 is the will of the Almighty manifested? " Wherefore 
 should we fast ?" Rather let us correct the wishes, 
 which would oppose the providence of the Most High. 
 " We cannot bring them back again." But it is given 
 us by the revelation of God, to rejoice with the Psalm- 
 ist in the consoling expectation, that we " shall go to 
 them, though they shall not return to us."
 
 SERMON LXXVII. 
 
 4 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 fsAlM xxiii. 4. 
 
 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the sluidow of 
 death, I id 1 1 fear no evil; for thou art ivith me; thij 
 rod and thy staff, they comfort me. 
 
 A HIS Psalm, is an eminently beautiful description 
 of the happiness, which waits upon the servants of 
 God. Its holy author, seems to have composed it in 
 one of the happiest moments of insi)iration. Contem- 
 plating the constant and tender care of the Most High, 
 over those who love him, he breaks forth in the con- 
 cise and affectins strain, " The Lord is my Shepherd, 
 I shall not want." Filled with a lively sense of the 
 peace, and joy, and delightful tranquillity, which the 
 righteous find in the experience of his grace, and th«?
 
 yUNERAL DISCOURSE. 341 
 
 contemplation of his promises, he assumes the pencil 
 of fancy, and sketches this soft and living picture of 
 their bliss; " he maketh me to lie down in green pas- 
 tures; he leadeth me beside the still waters." But 
 there was a stupendous act of divine goodness, which 
 his mind rose to celebrate in his song, even that dis- 
 pensation, by which the world is reconciled to God, 
 and men are enabled to walk acceptably before him; 
 *' he restoreth my soul ; he leadeth me in the paths of 
 righteousness for his name's sake." Adverting now 
 to his faithful mercy unto his servants of old, and re- 
 flecting upon his power and promise, to support the 
 souls of the faithful, in every emergency, until they 
 come to the place of their rest, the enraptured Psalm- 
 ist still vents the happy emotions of his bosom, in the 
 triumphant and solacing words, which I have sr^ected 
 for my text: " Yea, though I walk through the valley 
 of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou 
 art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." 
 Death, is what human nature is prone to dread. 
 Most men shrink, as long as they are able, from the 
 entrance into " the valley of the shadow" of it. So 
 frail is our nature, " this pleasing conscious being" 
 has so fascinating an influence over our affections; so 
 dismal are the accompaniments, and so dark our no- 
 tions of death, that this is often the case with the 
 best, as well as the worst, of mankind. The har- 
 dened Shimei, whom nothing could have awaited in 
 this world, but mortification and disgrace, crouched 
 ignobly to the king, whom he had abused, that he 
 might preserve his life; and the good Hezekiah, 
 whom glory, and honour, and immortality awaited, in 
 a better world, when apprized by a Prophet of ap- 
 proaching dissolution, " wept sore." This is au 
 infirmity of our nature; in good men, a deplorable 
 infirmity. But, we may learn from the Psalmist, that 
 there is an attainable freedom from it; and this free- 
 dom, who shall proclaim its value to beings, who,
 
 342 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 with unquestionable certainty, are journeying to the 
 tomb! Let us, then, consider what are the evils to be 
 encountered, in passing through " the valley of the 
 shadow of death ;" and observe, as we proceed, how 
 well, and sufficiently calculated, the instructions and 
 comforts of religion are, to fortify the faithful against 
 them. " Though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with 
 me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." 
 
 In the first place, the pains of death must be encoun- 
 tered by us; and these, fill many minds with dismay. 
 God has been pleased, notwithstanding the redemption 
 of our race from utter destruction, to leave in the 
 world demonstrations of their fall; and of his displea- 
 sure at iniquity, in the sorrows and anguish which 
 accompany their mortality. We come into the world 
 helpless and distressed, and we leave it, conflicting 
 with pain. Sickness, dying languor, the burning bo- 
 som, the aching temple, the wearied limbs, the agoniz- 
 ing convulsion, and the panting, fluttering heart, these 
 direful offspring of transgression, which surround the 
 valley of dissolution, increase its terrors; and who 
 can contemplate, without some anxious emotion, the 
 dark idea of that shock, which shall dissolve the union 
 of soul and body, and extinguish the vital flame I 
 Under these, and whatever pains we may be called to 
 encounter in the conflict with death, where shall the 
 generality of mankind find support? Shall they have 
 recourse to the hilarity of life? Ah! these are the 
 hours, in which they will " say of laughter. It is mad; 
 and of mirth. What doeth it." Shall they betake 
 themselves to philosophy? Alas! to but few of man- 
 kind does philosophy come, and of those few, she 
 changes not the aspect of their suffering ; she sheds no 
 grace of heavenly meekness to consecrate their forti- 
 tude; but supports by hardening, or by flattering the 
 sufferer. Amidst the agonies of the vale of death, 
 there is no unfeigned, and adequate support for the 
 
 (I
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 343 
 
 generality of men, but that which is derived from the 
 gospel of God. This originates the only true motive, 
 and furnishes the only efficacious means, of a sincere 
 and steady composure; yea, of a reasonable triumph, 
 amidst the distresses which may attend dissolution. 
 By that sublime influence, which consecrates all the 
 acts and events of life to moral purposes, it converts 
 the sufiferinss of nature, into occasions of meekness, 
 patience, and holy submission to the will of God. It 
 sets before us, the animating example of the Redeemer, 
 endurins \a ithout a murmur, the utmost agonies which 
 death could inflict; and bids the Christian, with a 
 voice that persuades while it bids, to imitate his Lord. 
 It brings to us, the aid and comfort of the Holy Spirit, 
 through whose sacred influences, tb^ departing good 
 man is enabled in " patience to , his soul,'* 
 
 when his body is racked with the torture^t jf his con- 
 dition. Conscious of the divine ])resence and favour, 
 he bears with calmness the burden appointed him. 
 Amidst his pains, there is heard the voice of heavenly 
 consolation, " My Son, despise not thou the chastening 
 of the Lord, nor faint, when thou art rebuked of him; 
 for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourg- 
 eth every son whom he receiveth." It is the voice of 
 the Most High God, his Creator and Redeemer. He 
 listens, and his pains are lightened. The hand which 
 smites, he sees stretched out to sustain him. His flesh 
 and his heart may fail, but God is the strength of his 
 heart; and is able, he knows, when the dissolving dart 
 shall strike through his frame, to support him with 
 the wholesome strength of his own right hand. In 
 hours of extremity, he may, indeed, groan; and " O, 
 my Father," he may be ready to say, " if it be possible, 
 let this cup pass from me!" For Jesus, that he might 
 be " touched with the feeling of all our infirmities," 
 thus deprecated the agonies of the hour of darkness. 
 But it is a momentary and qualified wish. Recollec- 
 tion, and the Comforter, return to his soul; and the
 
 344 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 language is triumphant, of tlifc lips which are trem- 
 bling with ansuish, " the cup which my Father hath 
 given me, shall I not drink it?" 
 
 Again. The valley of death is rendered terrible to 
 man, because it interrupts and terminates, all their 
 earthly pursuits and expectations. " When the breath 
 of man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his earth, 
 and then all his thoughts perish." Life, chequered as 
 it is, has strong attractions, by which our souls are 
 rivetted to it. For when we become wedded to our 
 habits, and the projects, and pursuits, to which our 
 faculties have been devoted, it is painful to think, 
 there is an everlasting end. Every condition has 
 something to engage our affections. The ease, the 
 distinction, und the magnificence with which the 
 wealthy can gratify themselves, render death unwel- 
 come to the rich. And the poor have their comforts, 
 and purposes, which they reluctantly resign to be ter- 
 minated for ever. To the studious, it is sorrowful, 
 that he must be taken from the paths of investigation; 
 and the labours, and pleasures, wherewith his mind 
 delighted itself, be ended. And the virtuous, cannot 
 think without regret, of doing no more those works 
 of justice, and mercy, and piety, by which they ad- 
 vanced the happiness of men, and obtained to them- 
 selves an agreeable satisfaction. The eagerness which 
 we feel, to avoid the tomb, is much increased by the 
 remembrance, that in it there are none of our i)ursuits, 
 and occupations, "no wisdom, knowledge, nor device." 
 But religion teaches us, to consider all the possessions, 
 and pursuits of this life, as subordinate to the great 
 concerns of eternity, as of little consequence, but as 
 they advance those concerns, and of no value a\ hen 
 the end of them is accomplisiied. She oj)ens, too, to 
 the faithful, the prosi)ect of such new scenes and occu- 
 pations, as shall more than supply the place of those 
 that are to be left. Is it the mansion of magnificence, 
 and the pleasures of aflluence that we regret to leave.'
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 345 
 
 They fade into nothing, when contrasted with the 
 mansions of the Father's house, and " the pleasures 
 which are at his right hand for evermore." Is it the 
 delight of scientific pursuits and acquisitions, which 
 we reluctantly resign? What are the attainments of 
 wisdom, which, with our encumbered faculties, we 
 make in this state in which " we know in part," com- 
 pared with the intelligence which shall be i)oured upon 
 the soul in that state, in which we shall " know even 
 as we are known." 
 
 Another evil which we must encounter, in passing 
 " through the valley of the shadow of death," is the 
 separation from the objects who were endeared to us, 
 and the scenes and pleasures which delighted us, in 
 the present world. Here is i)oignant grief. The fond 
 husband must leave the beloved of his bosom; must 
 leave her to her own fortitude and fate, in this muta- 
 ble and careful existence. The affectionate mother, 
 must resign her darling offspring, to, she knows not 
 what trials, dangers, and sorrows, in this evil world. 
 Our friends and companions, with whom " we took 
 sweet counsel together," and who were dear to us as 
 our own souls, we must leave, to see them no more in 
 these earthly forms, in which we have known and loved 
 them. They may mitigate for us the sorrows of dis- 
 ease. They may soothe our apprehensions on our 
 way, and with i)iety's sweetest offices, encourage our 
 hopes. But they can accompany us only to the gate 
 of death. There, they must leave us. We must be 
 parted from each other; we, to pass into regions, 
 from which we shall return to them no more; and 
 they, to be left weeping together on the gloomy con- 
 fines of the vale. And how happy are those, with 
 whom, in this dreadful moment, God remains ; who do 
 not pass through the solemn gate alone; but, when all 
 earthly friends have retired, have the Father of their 
 spirits with them. In him, they discern a Being 
 dearer, and more excellent, and more desirable to their 
 
 vor,. ir. 4^1
 
 346 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 souls, than any they leave upon the earth. To his 
 providence they are able, with holy confidence, to 
 consign the objects, for whose protection and welfare, 
 they feel a tender concern. Instead of the beings and 
 pleasures, from whom death takes them, he converses 
 with them on their way, of nobler associates, purer 
 pursuits, and |)leasin'es that will be eternal. With the 
 rod of his power, and the staff of his promises, he sus- 
 tains and comforts them, in makins; tlieir painful resig- 
 nations; and throuiih the declarations of his mercy, 
 they are enabled to hope, that the virtuous objects of 
 their affection wdl, one day, be found in heavenly 
 forms, .. • <le heirs with them of a better l5api)iness, in 
 a region, where there will be no more death. " I leave 
 them," says the expiring Christian, when he looks 
 around upon those, with whom nature, or love, has 
 connected him, " 1 leave them in the care of that 
 Being, who made me the instrument of their happi- 
 ness, and is able to make them iiappy without me. 
 Presently they will follow me, as I am following those 
 of my connections who are gone before me. And if 
 they shall be found worthy, God will one day make us 
 happy again together, in his unchangeable kingdom.'' 
 Were it not for these principles and hopes, which reli- 
 ligion inspires, I know not how a heart, that is fond 
 and sensible, could sustain the thought of being torn 
 by death, from the dear objects and social pleasures, 
 of this present life. But, when the promises of reve- 
 lation are disclosed, tliere is reason, and to those who 
 "have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of 
 the world to come," there is peace, in acquiescing in 
 the privations, to which death necessarily subjects us. 
 In the prospects of heaven and eternity, earth, and the 
 connections and pleasures of earth, ai)pear of subordi- 
 nate consequence; and " God is all in all." Gracious 
 Being, when I shall pass " through the valley of the 
 shadow of death," oh, let thy presence go with me. 
 It shall be more to mc than parent or child, than
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 347 
 
 friend or brother. For " whom have I in heaven but 
 thee? And there is none upon earth that I can desire 
 in comparison of thee." Let me, in the vale of ter- 
 rors, but behold thy fare in rijjhteousness, and 
 " thoush an host should encamj) asainst me, my heart 
 shall not fear." Let me, when I must leave at the 
 entrance of the tomb all earthly associates, have but 
 " the light of thy countenance" with me, and I shall 
 be satisfied with it! Though the vale be gloomy, if 
 thou art with me, I shall go on my " way rejoicing." 
 
 Another thing which renders "the valley of the 
 shadow of death" terrible to many, is the darkness 
 with which it is eiicompassed. It is awfully still. It 
 is dreadfully gloomy. Shadows, clouds, and dark- 
 ness, rest upon it. I see ti>e Inlidel approach its 
 entrance. To him, it is dismally obscure. Bones, 
 and ashes, are all he can discover. And his heart 
 recoils, with unutterable horror, from such an extinc- 
 tion of his being. I see the vicious a|)proach it. To 
 them, the gloom is terrible. Conscience fills it with 
 ghosts and spectres, and images of terror. They 
 shudder as they enter. They cry aloud for light. And 
 whom, indeed, do I see uuappalled by the darkness, 
 and dismal accomj)animents, of the grave, but those, 
 upon whose minds the blessed Redeemer hath opened 
 the visions of immortality. To them, th(^re ariseth 
 light in the darkness. That hand, which holdeth 
 " the keys of death and of hell," hath rolled back the 
 clouds which hung over the valley of death. That 
 voice, at which the devils tremble, hath chased from it 
 the images of fear, and spectres of despair. To the 
 sincere followers of the Lamb, it is not a valley of 
 unknown windings, and uncertain end. They see, 
 indeed, that it is a desolate place. But they are 
 taught, that it is the path by which God liath con- 
 nected this present stage of our existence, with the 
 next. They know that it is the passage, through 
 which the Patriarchs, and Prophets, and righteous
 
 348 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 men, of every age, have gone to tlie fruition of gloiy. 
 They consider it, as the valley which their Lord hath 
 travelled, subduing in it every thing which could mo- 
 lest, or dismay them; and opening through it, the 
 way to his heavenly kingdom. They enter it, there- 
 fore, without fear, or perplexity, having the " Si)irit of 
 Truth" for their guide, and, persuaded by him, that, 
 desolate as is the path, it will conduct them to the 
 regions of everlasting day. Blissful light, which reli- 
 gion, sent by our compaosionaie Creator, slieds upon 
 the tomb! How happy the relief which it gives, from 
 the timidity of ignorance, and the anxiety of doubt! 
 Those terrors, at least, which its darkness gave to 
 " the valley of the shadow of death," are of small 
 power, now that it is illumined with the instructions of 
 the Almighty, and declared by him, to be our path to 
 immortality. 
 
 But the greatest of all the causes of anxiety and 
 fear, which the children of men encounter, at the ap- 
 proach of death, is the apprehension of the judgement 
 which will ensue. Little as they think of it in life, 
 most men are sensible, when they come to die, of their 
 accountability to God. Their strength being pros- 
 trated; the schemes and pursuits which absorbed 
 them, being dissolved; their temporal joys all palling 
 on their senses; and every thing in which they sought 
 their comfort; every thing uj)on which they placed 
 their reliance here, being found useless, they begin to 
 feel their dependence upon an invisible power, and, at 
 length, are thoughtful of the retribution to come. 
 The bar of the Almighty, if it have not been regarded 
 before, will force itself upon the thoughts of the soul, 
 in " the valley of the shadow of death." And who 
 can sustain unmoved, the contemplation of its majesty, 
 or of the issues to be tried before it! 
 
 To the man, who is not at peace with God; who 
 has with him no evidence of pardon and divine favour, 
 but finds himself going to the tribunal of heaven, with
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 349 
 
 all his imperfections naked and unatoned, to such a 
 man, the apprehension of the judgement to come, can- 
 not but be exceedingly terrible. For how shall he 
 appear before the holy and righteous God ? What plea 
 shall he urge with the Most High, that he should par- 
 don and exalt him, and give him " an inheritance 
 among them that are sanctified ?" He is conscious of 
 innumerable offences against his Maker, for which he 
 can make no reparation. In the account he is to give 
 of the deeds done in the body, alas! he finds nothing 
 of faith or fidelity. Conscience and revelation, direct 
 his attention to a throne. But it is a throne, out of 
 which proceed lightniniis and thunderings, and voices. 
 He expects to meet a Judge. But from this Judge, 
 he would call ui)on the rocks to hide him, and the hills 
 to cover him. It is the necessity of giving account of 
 themselves to this Judge, and the fear of his just 
 award, that renders terrible to so many, the summons, 
 to pass through tlie vale of death. 
 
 But, in tlie bosom of the Christian, called of God 
 in Christ Jesus, and "turned from the error of his 
 ways, to the wisdom of tlie just," very different arc 
 the emotions, excited by the contemplation of the 
 untried scene, to which death will conduct him. He, 
 too, is conscious of sin. He is conscious, also, of his 
 utter inability to make to his Maker, any atonement 
 for his offences. But he has been unto the Son of 
 God, that he might obtain life. He has found him, 
 an appointed Mediator, in whom men have redemption 
 through his blood, even the remission of their sins. 
 He has taken of that blood, and si)rinkled it upon all 
 his garments; and while carrying it upon him, has 
 sorrowed for the sins, whicii rendered it necessary it 
 should be shed, and aspired after the holiness and 
 immortality, to which it hath redeemed him. From 
 this great Mediator, he hath received in the gosi)ei the 
 promise, and in the sacraments the pledges, of pardon 
 aj[id grace, of peace with the Father, a resurrection
 
 350 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 from tlic grave, and everlasting life. This promise, is 
 assured to him by the oath of God. These pledges, 
 are sealed by the efi'cctual co-operation of the Holy 
 Ghost. And in the love, and joy, and peace, and long- 
 suffering, and goodness, and patience, and meekness, 
 and temperance, and faith, and charity, uhich arc 
 shed abroad in his heart and conduct, he has the fruits 
 of the Spirit witnessing unto him that he is a child of 
 God ; begotten again to the liveliest and most joyful 
 hopes, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the 
 dead. From him, therefore, the terrors uith m hicii 
 the expectation of a consequent judgement arms 
 death, arc turned away. To the God, into whose 
 presence he is going, he can look, as to a reconciled 
 Father and friend. In the Judge, at whose tribunal 
 he must appear, he can thankfully confide, as in one 
 " who can have compassion on the iiinorant, and on 
 them tiiat are out of the way/' and has iniiKnl him to 
 himself by dear, and indissoluble ties. ' The strength 
 of sin over him, is broken. The promises of God, 
 are with him. The Spirit of God, is with him. The 
 oath of God, is with him. And in the blood, and 
 righteousness, and intercession of his Redeemer, he 
 kno\\s there is a treasnre of merit and atonement, 
 upon which, when the Father looketh, he will em- 
 brace with everlasting mercy, those, who, through faith 
 and obedience, have endea\our(?d to secure an interest 
 in it. Great, therefore, is his peace. The bar of the 
 Almighty is changed to him, into the Mercy Seat. 
 The vail that was bi^fore it, is rent in twain. He sees 
 Jesus, the great High Priest, presenting the blood of 
 the sacrifice " which tak(!th away the sins of the 
 world." " Son," he hears the Father say, " all thine 
 are mine. And I give unto thee power overall flesh, 
 that thou shouldest give eternal life to as many as I 
 have given thee." Tlie penitent believer here forgets 
 his mortality. His heart, in the approach of death, is
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 351 
 
 glad; and his glory rejoices. His "flesh, also, shall 
 rest in hope." 
 
 In short, a sense of the presence of God, "with an 
 assurance of his' pardon and favour, makes any condi- 
 tion easy, and any place peaceful. In " the valley of 
 the shadow of death," it is the soul's amulet; its sup- 
 port and joy. Pain loses much of its power; the ad- 
 versary of the soul flees to his place ; temporal pursuits 
 and advantages arc willingly resigned; the poignancy 
 of leaving our earthly friends, is mitigated; the dark- 
 ness of the valley is illumined and cheered, and the 
 dread of judgement is converted into the peaceful 
 hope of j)ardon, and immortality, through the efficacy 
 of those princi[)les, and that Spirit, which belong to 
 those who love God. " Mark the perfect man, and 
 behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." 
 
 These consolations and instructions, so important, 
 my brethren, to us, whose progress in life is but an 
 advancement towards " the valley of the shadow of 
 death," were very strikingly illustrated and confirmed 
 in the recent death of some members of our commun- 
 ion. To the surviving friends of the deceased, is it 
 necessary for me to utter the words of consolation? A 
 voice from heaven has proclaimed, that " the dead are 
 blessed w ho die in the Lord." Rather, let me beseech 
 you all, my hearers, to bring yourselves into that 
 course of faith, and obedience, whose progress is safe 
 and pleasant, and whose end is happy and glorious. 
 However light your thoughts may now be; however 
 gay your lives; however brilliant your prospects, one 
 thing only is certain to you ; that death will be the 
 end of your career. To meet it without fearing an}'' 
 evil, is a noble attainment; a most desirable happiness. 
 And it is the privilege of those, and those only, who 
 are furnished fiom the armoury of heaven, with what 
 .the " Spirit of Truth" has styled "the whole armour 
 of God." With this armour, fortify yourselves against 
 the day of need. Delay not to buckle it on. and to
 
 352 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 prove it, till you see the kins of terrors approaching, 
 with his hosts of evils. Those dispositions towards 
 God and men, which you would wish to carry into the 
 other world, should be sought and ciherished, before 
 you are reduced to the bed of death. For then, the 
 corriiptible body, may weijih down the incorruptible 
 mind ; and thouii;h the " spirit should be willing, the 
 flesh may be weak." While, therefore, it is "well with 
 you," take to yourselves "the armour of God," that you 
 may be able to stand in the evil day. Let " your loins 
 be s'l't about with truth, and have you on the breast- 
 plate of righteousness; let your feet be shod with the 
 preparation of the Gospel of peace. Above all, take 
 the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to 
 quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take 
 the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, 
 which is tiie word of God. Praying alway with all 
 prayer and supplication in the Si)irit, and watching 
 thereunto with all perseverance." Thus fortified, you 
 will be in the best condition to share the triumphs of 
 those who are gone before you ; and may partake of 
 the holy comfort, with which the Psalmist solaced his 
 soul, " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with 
 me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort mo."
 
 SERMON LXXVIIl. 
 
 —Qj©©— 
 
 A FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 Job, XXXV. 14. 
 
 Although thou say est thou shalt not see him, yet judge- 
 ment is before him ; therefore trust thou in him. 
 
 JL HIS chapter, is part of a conversation which Elihu 
 had with the renowned sufferer of the East. He ap- 
 pears to have possessed juster sentiments of God, and 
 his government, and a tenderer sympathy with the 
 miserable, than the rest of Job's comforters; and his 
 discourse was not involved in the reproof, by which 
 Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, were condemned. The 
 words of the text, form one of the finest, and most 
 forcible expostulations, which could have been used 
 with a man, amazed by the strangeness, and awed by 
 the weight of his sufferings ; and are not unworthy to 
 ]ie pondered by us, on every occasion, when, in the 
 VOL. II. 45
 
 354 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 emphatic language of Scripture, the Almighty *' hideth 
 his face." " Although thou sayest thou shalt not see 
 him, yet judgement is before him; therefore, trust 
 thou in him." 
 
 These words suppose, in the first place, that there 
 are seasons and situations, in which the ways of hea- 
 ven seem dismaying and inexplicahle; 
 
 Secondly, they assure us that notwithstanding this, 
 uncliaiigeable righteousness is the eternal rule of the 
 government of God : 
 
 And from this consideration, they, in the third place, 
 encourage us to maintain in every situation, in which 
 his providence may place us, a humble and obedient 
 reliance upon his holy will. 
 
 That there are seasons and situations, in which the 
 ways of the Most Higli do seem dismaying and inex- 
 plicable, is abundantly evident, to whatever depart- 
 ment of his government we turn our eyes. If we look 
 into the natural world, we shall not always find unob- 
 scured, the God of nature. Here is not always the 
 fruitful season, and the unclouded day. The Deity, 
 who is known to us through the benevolence of his 
 works, does sometimes clothe himself in all the terrors 
 which the elements he has created can furnish. Dread 
 thunders, and dire pestilence, at his command si)read 
 terror and death through the air. The earth quakes, 
 and the busy city, with the peaceful plain, are alike 
 entombed within its bosom. Instead of the gentle 
 dew, in which he refreshes, and the generous shower, 
 in which he nourishes the earth, he sometimes comes 
 in a tremendous torrent, sweeping beauty from nature, 
 and sustenance from man. If we look into the social 
 department, here, too, we shall find his ways myste- 
 rious. There are times, when the protection of his 
 providence, would seem to be withdrawn from society. 
 Its interests appear subject to the caprices of fortune, 
 and the passions of men. Who can discover the 
 known marks of his providence, when the welfare of
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 355 
 
 communities appears dependent on the will of the 
 strongest, and this superior strength is possessed by 
 some human monster, thirsting for the blood and rights 
 of his fellow men I Impenetrable is the veil which 
 conceals the issue of his purposes, when the charms 
 of society are blasted, and its young, and useful mem- 
 bers, suddenly cut down, while they who stand alone, 
 and seem cumberers of the earth, are permitted to 
 remain and thrive. Who can fathom the counsels of 
 Jiis will, when, in his moral creatures, that reason by 
 which he has dignified them, is suddenly extinguished, 
 or the bodies and faculties, by which he has so happily 
 fitted us for intercourse with each other, are converted 
 into monuments of our frailty and misery! 
 
 If we turn our attention to the moral department, 
 here, too, we sball find occurrences to astonish and 
 perplex us. Affliction maintains a powerful, and op- 
 pressive dominion among the sons of men. In the 
 form of vice, of adversity, and of death, she stalks 
 through the world, obscuring the sun-beams of heaven 
 with her shadow, and spreading dismay by her mien. 
 And is it upon the vicious that she chiefly lays her 
 scourge? Alas! they frequently are seen upon the 
 high |)laces of the earth, basking in sunshine, and 
 trampling upon merit; while virtue, weighed down 
 with accumulated sorrows, in lonely retirement, bleeds 
 and weeps. It is not uncommonly the lot of the righ- 
 teous, to bear the heaviest burdens, and experience 
 the severest trials of life. In the management of their 
 allotments, the ways of the Deity are inscrutable. 
 The pious Job, and the zealous Peter, are left to be 
 tempted, the one to distrust, the other to deny, his 
 Lord. The former, is supported and triumphs; the 
 latter falls. Again. Peter wt^eps bitterly, and is reco- 
 vered from the most heinous offence; while for a 
 smaller one, Esau " found no place of repentance, 
 though he sought it carefully with tears." How oft 
 liave we seen tlie arrows of the Almighty, lodged in
 
 356 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 the bosoms which were anxious to beat but to his 
 service; nay, how oft has the Church, the object of 
 his professed, his fondest regard, been left, according 
 to the beautiful allusion of the Prophet, "as a lodge 
 in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged cit}." In the 
 dispensations of his grace, as well as of his providence, 
 in the moral, as well as in the natural world, the Most 
 High asserts his sovereignty; "and his ways are past 
 finding out." 
 
 When we compare the terrors of nature, with his 
 benevolence who rules Iier movements; when we 
 contrast the triumphs of iniquity in the ^\orld, with 
 his power and holiness by whom it is governed ; when 
 we combine the afflictions of the virtuous, and the 
 trials of the Church, with his love to whom they are 
 devoted, it must be confessed there are S(\isons, when 
 he whose faith is most firmly fixed, may be ready to 
 exclaim with the amazed Prophet; "Verily, thou art 
 a (lod that hidest thyself, O God of Israel, the Savi- 
 our!" 
 
 But, Christian, pause. Let not the phenomena of 
 nature, impair thy admiration of her usual course, nor 
 shake thy confidence in the wisdom and benevolence 
 of her Author. " Although thou sayest thou shalt 
 not see him, yet judgement is before him." When 
 we consider, how mucli order and benevolence there 
 is, in the general dispensations of God, and reflect 
 upon the narrowness and imperfections of our views, 
 it would be a candid, and becoming conclusion, if we 
 had no other light upon the subject, that the allotments 
 of his providence whic!i we do not understand, are, 
 nevertheless, adjusted by rules of eternal equity and 
 goodness. But, we have the ])lea of reason enforcing 
 this conclusion. To supi)ose tiiat God, having made 
 the world, has left it to itself, is impossible. It would 
 not comport with the wisdom, power, and goodness, 
 which are essential to the nature of God. If, how- 
 ever, he exercise a government over tiie affairs of the
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 357 
 
 world, it must be a moral government. To suppose 
 him exerting a partial, or passionate, or despotic, or 
 irregular control over the events of time, would argue 
 impossible imperfections in tlie Deity, and greatly 
 weaken the obligations of his laws. His government 
 must be as pure, just, and benevolent, as his nature; 
 and, consequently, righteous in every measure of it; 
 seeking, unceasingly, the manifestation of justice, and 
 the melioration and happiness of the creature. 
 
 In confirmation of these deductions, we have the 
 testimony of Scripture, from which we derive our best 
 and surest knowledge, of the nature and designs of the 
 Deity. Revelation assures us, that " God is righteous 
 in all his ways, and holy in all his works." It teaches 
 us to consider, the most extraordinary dispensations of 
 providence; the most mysterious and dismaying occur- 
 rences of life, not as the offspring of chance, nor as 
 deviations from the eternal rule of rectitude, but as 
 appointed by him, for the furtherance of glorious pur- 
 poses, which his justice and goodness conspire to pro- 
 mote. He has a scheme, a just and stupendous 
 scheme, a scheme of infinite benevolence, in the admi- 
 nistration of his government. Its end is, the improve- 
 ment and exaltation of our race. To give it efficacy, 
 the Scriptures represent him as sparing no pains; as 
 giving the Beloved of his bosom, to suffer and to die. 
 And who that contemplates this scheme of redemption, 
 can doubt that all his dispensations are worth}' of him- 
 self, and ultimately conducive to tlie general good. 
 When the light of revelation rises, it disperses the 
 clouds which, in the seasons of calamity, surround and 
 seem to conceal the Most High. We behold him in a 
 manner, worthy of the Judge of the universe, and 
 Father of our race, administering a government, which 
 exhibits tlie most wonderful and perfect union of 
 mercy with justice, of righteousness with peace; and 
 pledging liimself, that the result shall be, what every 
 virtuous being should wish it to be, tlie highest possible
 
 358 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 good, to his creatures. Though for a season, his foot- 
 steps maybe unknown; though in the day of calamity 
 we may look in vain for the light of his countenance; 
 though afflictions may ajjpear to interrupt the flow of 
 his mercies; and to the good may be allotted the 
 greatest portion of distress, yet is there no change in 
 his purposes, nor can there be unrighteousness with 
 God. All his dispensations, as well as his precepts, 
 are done in truth and ecjuity. Yea. doubtless, " judge- 
 ment was laid to the line, and righteousness to the 
 plummet," when in the hour of deepest sorrow, his 
 beloved Son was left to exclaim, " My God, my God, 
 why Jiast thou forsaken me!" We camiot reconcile 
 any other opinion, witii our faitli in his word, nor 
 indeed in his being. We must abandon our belief in 
 his government, and abide tiie dreadful consecpiences 
 of relinquishing our hold, ui)on tliis only rock amidst 
 the billows of life, or must, though " clouds and dark- 
 ness are round about him," believe that "justice and 
 judgement are the habitation of his throne." 
 
 From this great truth, the inference is clear and 
 reasonable, that we ouiiht to maintain, in every situa- 
 tion in wiiich liis providence places us, an unshaken 
 trust in his goodness, and obedience to his will. No- 
 thing more frequently distresses the feelings, and dis- 
 turbs tlie principles of men, than the inscrutableness of 
 the dealimis of God. But, my brethren, are the mea- 
 sures of his government wrong, because they do not 
 coincide with our partial views? Are the methods of 
 his providence to be condenmed, because they cannot 
 be comprehended by our limited understandings? An 
 ignorant rustic, shmdd a spring, or single wheel of a 
 watch, fall into his hands, would not perceive its de- 
 sign, and might rashly suppose it wrought to no pur- 
 l)Ose; but in the hand of a skilful artist, it becomes the 
 principal mover of a machine, regular, beautiful, and 
 of great utility. We form our judgements of detached 
 parts of the economy of the Most High, we judge, too,
 
 FUiNERAL DISCOURSE. 359 
 
 by the present event, without knowing its connections 
 or result, and we jud^e, generally, under the influence 
 of some one or other of our passions. Thus circum- 
 stanced, we cannot but be incai)able of fathoming the 
 counsels, or estimating; the deeds of the Most High. 
 That his ways are mysterious, should fill us with 
 humility. It should inspire us with reverence and 
 godly fear; but it ought not to excite our surprise. 
 For who are we, frail beings of yesterday, and limited 
 in our duration and views, by the narrow boundary of 
 the present; who are we, and what are our preten- 
 sions, that we should expect to be censors of the ways 
 of God! 
 
 We are assured, by reason and by Scripture, that his 
 government is infinitely, and uniformly righteous. la 
 the gift of his Son for our salvation, he has offered us 
 the greatest pledge we arc capable of receiving, that 
 his aim, his wish, his constant care, is the preservation 
 and happiness of his offspring. Would we be willing 
 to take the management of events, from a Being thus 
 infinitely holy, thus benevolently inclined? Are not 
 our interests, and the interests of our friends, and of 
 all our fellow beings, as safe in his hands, as we 
 siiould wish them to be? Are they not, indeed, safer, 
 than they possibly could be, under any other circum- 
 stances whatever? Amazement, then, at his dealings 
 should never excite distrust. Our reliance on his 
 goodness, should stand like the rock, which ages have 
 rooted in the bosom of the earth, unchanged, unshaken 
 by the storm. The darkness which sometimes enve- 
 lopes his providence, instead of interrupting, should 
 rather call forth our unqualified resignation, and obe- 
 dience to his will. 
 
 It is true, affliction will pour dismaying thoughts 
 into the soul. We are bowed to the dust, by the Being 
 who loves us. He withdraws his smiles from those, 
 whom he came to save. He v.ounds us in the ten- 
 derest part. For thi^ we are distressed ! But if to
 
 360 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 fill US with a sense of our frailties ; if to remind us of 
 his sovereign power ; if to detach us from the delusions 
 of time and sense; if to reclaim us to the paths of 
 righteousness; if to lead us to the Mediator, and 
 cause us to know the fellowship of his sufferings, and 
 the power of his resurrection ; if these be the end of 
 our afflictions, how benevolent are his purposes; how 
 paternal are the chastisements of his hand! And, 
 surely, we can never be faithful to ourselves, in our 
 use of adversity, and not find it productive of some of 
 these fruits. 
 
 In men assured of the perfection of a Governor, and 
 of the principles by which he acts, it is absurd to be 
 dissatisfied with measures, which they can see but in 
 part. The most afflictive, and ine\i)iicable dispensa- 
 tions, may often be the springs of the most important, 
 and hai)py operations. The Speaker would modestly 
 observe, that the pains and calamities under which 
 himself has recently laboured,* were a small price for 
 the experience they brought him, of the power of the 
 Almighty, to support his servants under any emergency, 
 and as well to resuscitate our bodies, after they shall 
 have slei)t in the dust, as to cause the flesh which had 
 been torn, divided, and benumbed, to become new, 
 and heal. Yes, thou gracious lieing, in tliy darkest 
 recesses, and heaviest dispensations, thou art just and 
 good. Under the influences of thy Spirit, " the trial 
 of our faith worketh patience, and patience experience, 
 and experience hope." Incense, tiierefore, shall arise 
 to thee, even from the furnace of affliction. It is the 
 very consideration of our inability, to scan immedi- 
 ately, the counsels of the Most lligh, which should 
 preserve us from suffering our trust in him to be 
 shaken, by the tribidations of life. We should gather 
 
 * This Discourse was preaclied at Ne\v])ort, R. I. in April 1804, and the 
 '• pains and calamities" here alluued to, were, probably, the dangerous o|)era- 
 (ion the Author had undergone, of the extraction of a lar^e Won from liis nock
 
 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 361 
 
 around us, as many virtues as we can, and, amidst the 
 gloom that surrounds us, and the raging of the storm, 
 repose ourselves upon his wisdom, righteousness, 
 mercy and truth. 
 
 Thus, we have illustrated the several parts of Eli- 
 hu's expostulation, with the afflicted Job. May the 
 important, and consolitary truths it has led us to con- 
 template, have their merited influence upon our 
 thoughts and conduct, under every calamity of life. 
 Many of you, Beloved, have recently felt the afflicting 
 hand of God. You have been bereaved of your 
 friends and acquaintances, by solemn dispensations of 
 his providence, and are come up to his house, mourn- 
 ing. Listen to the instructions of his word. Learn 
 from the oracles of truth, that however distressing are 
 the events of life, righteousness and goodness guide 
 the hand by which they are allotted. While, therefore, 
 you mourn the partner, the parent, the child, gone 
 down to the chambers of the dead, consider the wis- 
 dom, the justice, and the mercy of the Deity, as so 
 many comforters calling tenderly upon you, to be still 
 in your sorrows, and sanctify him in your hearts. 
 And let us all, my friends, learn from what has been 
 said, to preserve, in every situation, an unshaken reli- 
 ance on the love of the Almighty, and a steadfast 
 obedience to his will. Art thou distressed with a 
 sense of thy sinfulness? Abide thee by the mercy- 
 seat. Say not in thy heart, " thou shalt not see him," 
 but recollect the soothing declaration, " He knoweth 
 whereof we are made, he remembereth that we are 
 but dust." Art thou alarmed by the occurrences of 
 life? Remember, that though touching the Almighty 
 we cannot find him out, he is, nevertheless, excellent 
 in power, and in judgement, and in plenty of justice; 
 he will not suffer his truth to fail. Art thou bowed 
 down with affliction's burden, with unjust aspersions 
 of thy fame, the loss of thy property, or the death of 
 thy friends ? In thy distress, be not dismayed. The 
 
 vor,. Ti. 4t6
 
 362 FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 
 
 bitter plant is sometimes the medicine of life. The 
 blackest cloud, by which fair nature is shrouded in 
 gloom, carries often the shower which fertilizes and 
 refreshes her. Reflect, how partial and finite are thy 
 views. Assure thyself, from reason and Scripture, the 
 benevolence and rectitude of God's government. 
 Ponder the amazing pledge of his love, which he has 
 given thee in Jesus, the Mediator. This, faithfully 
 gone, cannot fail to calm thy soul in her most sor- 
 rowful hours; and to inspire thee with the resolu- 
 tion, at once the fruit, the support, and the glory of 
 Job's piety; yea, "though he slay me, yet will I trust 
 in him."
 
 SERMON LXXIX. 
 
 ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE. 
 
 3t. John, xix. 41. 
 
 There was a gardetii and in the garden, a new sepul- 
 chre. 
 
 -AN is born to trouble." The scenes of life are 
 perpetually varying ; and in every scene, affliction has 
 a conspicuous place. The busy children of men 
 enter upon the stage of action, flushed with the expec- 
 tation of happiness. Their pulse beats high. Hope 
 animates their bosoms, with the prospects which fancy 
 sketches. They look around; the world is as " a gar- 
 den" before them, lively and pleasant; and they fondly 
 expect to take their pastime in it, moving from plea- 
 sure to . pleasure, and regaling themselves long with 
 unfading delights. Deluded mortals ! The pleasure-
 
 364 MISERIES OF LIFE. 
 
 ground of Joseph is a picture of life. " In the garden 
 thore was a sepulchre." 
 
 It is probable that, the taste of the Arimathean may 
 be questioned in this refined age. What avails it, it 
 may be asked, to bring often to recollection the mise- 
 ries of our condition? Are not the joys of life suffi 
 ciently imperfect, without blending with them the 
 symbols of sorrow, the monuments of mortality? Ah, 
 my friends, it were happy for us, if our estimate of this 
 present state might be rectified by its miseries. We 
 need a finger, to point out constantly to us, the "vanity" 
 of things " under the sun." Wc need a voice to pro- 
 claim daily in our ears, remember that thou art mortal. 
 Obvious it is, that tliere are evils in the world. Our 
 earthly joys are all alloyed. Our temporal pleasures 
 have all an end. The countenance of mirth, A\hich, 
 to-day, beams full with the cxprt;ssion of gladness, is,, 
 to-morrow, covered with gloom. The treasure of 
 health, in which we exult with such thoughtless joy- 
 fulness, makes to itself wings, like the riches of the 
 wealthy, and suddenly flies away. Reason, the choi- 
 cest natural possession of man, is not always secure. 
 The disorders of the body, the wanderings of the 
 fancy, or tiie winding up of the fine chords of feelings 
 to a pitch, which they are not abh; to bear, may con- 
 fuse the rational powers, and convert into frenzy the 
 happiest mind. Death, too, is ever in our world. 
 Our friends and fellow beings, he takes from us, one 
 after another; and whenever he shall lay his hand 
 upon us, we must be bound with his icy fetters, and 
 relinquish all the charms of life for his gloomy domain. 
 Thus, however blissful our situation, and with what- 
 ever delights we are surrounded, "in the garden there 
 is a sepulchre." " Man cometh up like a flower, and 
 is cut down ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never 
 continueth in one stay." 
 
 It is natural enough for the considerate to inquire, 
 how the miseries of life found entrance into the crea-
 
 MISERIES OF LIFE. 365 
 
 tion of God, and I see not bow they can explain this 
 mournful part of the divine economy, but by consid- 
 ering it as the result of transg;ression. It is surely 
 punishment, whenever the children of a benevolent 
 parent are afflicted; and under the just, and compas- 
 sionate government of the universal parent, punishment 
 can never be known but as the consequence of sin. 
 Yes; man must have brought upon himself the sorrows 
 of his condition, by disobedience. We carry in our- 
 selves, and behold in the sufferings and mortality of 
 our fellow beings, irrefragable evidence of the unhappy 
 fall, and degeneracy of our race. In an evil hour, 
 man built for himself " a sepulchre, in the garden" in 
 which his Maker had placed him; and the awful in- 
 heritance, has descended to his latest posterity. 
 
 It is wise, however, to consider our situation, as it 
 is. A state of delusion, with regard to the real cir- 
 cumstances of our condition, would be a great misfor- 
 tune. Whoever acts, without a correct view of his 
 powers and position, must always forego the character 
 of discretion, and lose the advantages, which wisdom 
 derives from adapting her means to the end, and aim- 
 ing at those ends only, which are practicable, and of 
 real importance. 
 
 I invite you, then, to the " sepulchre," which is ever 
 " in the garden" of life, that you may, in the first 
 place, perceive and remember, that it is there. Heed- 
 less are most men of death ! The young, the gay, and 
 the busy, with what light and careless feet do they 
 anove among the pleasures of the earth, regardless of 
 the grave which is under them, and (he dangers with 
 which they are surrounded. How many stumble 
 upon the " sepulchre," before they have discovered it 
 in the path. Our eyes are willingly turned from it; for 
 we have not learnt to look upon it without pain. We 
 plant a thousand objects, which hide it from our sight. 
 We twine the flowers of hope, and we bend the vines 
 of pleasure, to •onceal it from our view. It is " in
 
 S66 MISERIES OF LIFJl. 
 
 the garden," but men perceive it not. Too often, 
 alas! they sink into it, before they have considered 
 themselves as mortal ; unacquainted with tiie nature of 
 the present life, and unprepared for the issues of that 
 which is to come. But who, in the intervals of re- 
 flection, will say that, this is wisdom? "It is ap- 
 pointed unto" you " once to die." Death will con- 
 duct you to consummate hapi)iness, or unspeakable 
 woe. At any period of your lives, " in a moment, in 
 the twinkling of an eye," this awful and important 
 change may take place. Let not, then, the gaities and 
 charms of the world, beguile you of such weighty con- 
 cerns. Have the "sepulchre" ever in view; not to 
 interrupt the duties, nor to damp the innocent |)lea- 
 sures of life; but to prompt you to circumspection and 
 fidelity, that the great event of your beings, on which 
 sucii everlasting interests depend, may not come uu- 
 liappily upon you, and leave you in tjje untried regions 
 of the eternal world, conscious of heedlessness, desti- 
 tute of the blessing, and unaljlc, alas, to fmd a " place 
 for repentance, though you should seek it carefully and 
 with tears!" 
 
 Again. I have asked you to the " sepulchre," that, 
 with it in your view, you may rightly estimate the 
 scenes and objects around you. As mankind in gene- 
 ral, are unmindful of death, so are they deceived in 
 their valuation of the i)lcasures, and pursuits of life. 
 Time, availing himself of his presence with us, has a 
 competition with eternity for our afleciions. He 
 decks with fascinating objects, this present world. He 
 spreads around its paths, many ojiening flowers. He 
 shows us fruits of various hues, ripening for our future 
 enjoyment. He assures us, unceasingly, that he has 
 in store for us, greater and greater joys, and we are 
 led on by him, ^\ itii unsuspicious steps, in expectation 
 of the happiness which shall iill our bosoms with con- 
 tentment. But, mark the deceiver! AVhile he pro- 
 mises to be with us, he conceals his wings. Through
 
 MISERIES OF LIFE. 367 
 
 the paths of life, while he amuses us with its gaities, 
 its business, and its hopes, he is leading us to the 
 " sepulclire." Alas! it is not a " sepulchre," like that 
 to which my text refers, in which as yet " never man 
 was laid." Let us look into it. It contains objects 
 which will teach us impressively, what God and our 
 Redeemer are desirous we should learn, the insuffi- 
 ciency of the happiness, which is sought by the chil- 
 dren of men, in the occupations, pleasures, and vani- 
 ties of this imperfect world. Here, ye lovers of riches, 
 ye may behold many, who once as ardently pursued, 
 and as proudly possessed wealth, as yourselves. Wrapt 
 humbly in a wasting shroud, they sleep in dust; and 
 the treasures which they so anxiously accumulated, 
 are scattered, or enjoyed, by, they know not whom. 
 Here, ye sons of pleasure, yc may find those, whose 
 days were once as mirthful, and their feasts as frolic- 
 some, as yours. Barred are their ears to the sounds of 
 mirth, and their bodies, the instruments and sources of 
 all their happiness, are the food of worms. Here, yc 
 ambitious, ye may discover some, who once aspired 
 after pre-eminence, exulted in power, and spurned at 
 control, with a spirit not inferior to 3'ours. Bound 
 are they now, with the fetters of the narrow house, 
 and slumber forgotten among the bones of their slaves. 
 And here, ye young and beautiful, ye may see the end 
 of many, who, once, vied at the ball, and sparkled in 
 the circle, with charms related to yours. The rose is 
 gone from the cheek; the lilies of the temple are 
 faded. Dust and corruption, is all that remains of 
 what once i)rided itself, in the incense of admiration. 
 If such, my hearers, be the end of all flesh, how ab- 
 surd is it to glory in the distinctions; how delusive to 
 build upon the prospects; how foolish to be absorbed 
 in the pursuits, of the present world. Its hopes bloom 
 but to wither. Its joys oi)en but to decay. Which- 
 ever of its paths we choose, the retired or the open,
 
 368 MISERIES OF LIFE. 
 
 the sober or the gay, that which has its pleasures 
 in prospect, or that which has them at hand, we 
 shall find them all beset with disappointments, and 
 terminating in a " sepulchre." " If I wait, the 
 grave is my house. I have made my bed in the 
 darkness. I have said to corrui)tion, Thou art my 
 father; to the worm, Thou art my mother, and my 
 sister." 
 
 Once more. I point you to the " sepulchre in the 
 garden" of life, that, perceiving the mixed natmo, and 
 uncertain duration, of all earthly felicity, you may be 
 induced to raise your attention, and devote your 
 affections, to the joys of the heavenly world, ^'ou 
 are candidates for immortality; called ot Ciod in 
 Christ Jesus, to the rich inheritance of everlasting 
 life. It canuot but occur to you, that when our 
 adorable Lord had, in this " sepidchre" of the 
 Arimathean, overcome the power of death, " he 
 opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers." 
 It is in that kingdom, we are to seek our hapj/mess. 
 All here, is perishable. The pictures of (^lrthly feli- 
 city, which sanguine fancy forms, will mock our ex- 
 pectation. But, in the abode of his glory, the Ever- 
 lasting Father hath, for his Son's sake, provided the 
 delights with which his redeemed shall be satisfied. 
 There, by *' the river of God," is the garden which has 
 no " sepulchre." Its pleasures are perennial, its joys 
 are nourished with the dews of inunortality. On its 
 borders arc Cherubim and ilaming swords, to exclude, 
 for ever, the tempter, that he may no mote mar the 
 innocence and happiness, of the children of the Most 
 High. There walk, the heirs of glory, amidst unfad- 
 ng flowers, surrounded, every where, with " trees of 
 life." They " follow the Lamb whithersoever he 
 goeth." He gives them robes of pure righteousness. 
 He "leads them to fountains of living waters." He 
 shows them the trees whose fruit is for meat, and
 
 MISERIES OF LIFE. 369 
 
 whose " leaves are for the healing of all nations." 
 There do the souls of the righteous rejoice, that they 
 are reckoned among the children of God ; and God, 
 himself, once more converseth with his offspring, " as 
 a man speaketh unto his friend." Happy are the 
 saints, who have already entered into this " garden 
 of the Lord." And happy are we, if our faith and 
 obedience evidence, that we are of the number for 
 whom Jesus himself, as a forerunner^ hath en- 
 tered. 
 
 Having set before you, the uses of the sorrows and 
 mortality, which were introduced into our world 
 by transgression, and are blended with all our joys, 
 I would address myself particularly to the young, in 
 the conclusion of this discourse. They are in the 
 spring of life. Beautiful to them is the " garden" 
 before them, and teeming with innumerable pleasures. 
 Its opening flowers delight their hearts. With san- 
 guine assiduity, they are setting a thousand plants of 
 future happiness. They hear nothing but promises 
 of felicity, in the whispering gales which pass by 
 them. Hut, my youthful friends, "in the garden 
 there is a sepulchre." Though you are now in the 
 spring time of life, there is a winter in every man's 
 year. The flowers, with which he solaced himself, 
 must fade. The plants which he cherished shall 
 wither. Time shall prove treacherous, a spoiler of 
 every joy; and nothing will one day remain, but the 
 " sepulchre" and the relics it embosoms. Build not, 
 then, your hopes upon this present life, whose fashion 
 is constantly passing away. Aim to obtain the love 
 of God. Asi)ire after the inheritance of virtue. 
 Acquaint yourselves with the Redeemer of your 
 race. Seek your happiness in the immortal plea- 
 sures, and noble pursuits of his kingdom. Then, 
 will you be no sufferers by the transitoriness of 
 temporal joys. A life you will have, which death 
 
 vol.. II. 17
 
 310 MISERIES OF LIFE. 
 
 cannot reach, " hidden with him in God." The 
 debt of your nature, you shall indeed pay ; but when 
 your bodies descend into the " sepulchre," your souls 
 shall be with him in Paradise.
 
 SERMON LXXX. 
 
 ON THE NECESSITY OF SETTLED PRIN- 
 CIPLES IN RELIGION. 
 
 John, vi. 67, 6S. 
 
 Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? 
 Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom 
 shall we go ? Thou lutst the words of eternal life* 
 
 i^ ROM the first promulgation of Christianity, there 
 have been some who were dissatisfied with its evi- 
 dences, and ofi'ended at its doctrines. Pride, has 
 always started at sentiments, which its short sight 
 could not comprehend. Depravity, has spurned at 
 precepts, which would restrain its evil propensities. 
 Man, so vain of his self-sufiiciency, has deemed the 
 necessity, even of the Almighty's aid in effecting his 
 salvation, a false and silly notion. In the chapter 
 from which the text is selected, we find the Saviour
 
 372 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 
 
 Stating some of the peculiar principles of his religion. 
 They related to his pre-existence in heaven ; to the 
 value of his flesh as " the bread of life f to the supre- 
 macy of his Father in the di>tribntion of siiirilual 
 favours, and to his own future ascension to " the i^lory 
 which he had before the foundation of the \\orld.'' 
 To Jews, who gloried that their fathers did eat manna 
 in the desert; to men who measured truth by its coin- 
 cidence with their prejudices, and its comi)rehensibilitj 
 by their finite minds, these were hard sayings; they 
 could not hear them. Thou;;h they had witnessed the 
 miracles of Christ; though they had followed him as 
 a teacher sent from God; his doctrines clashed with 
 their feelings and opinions, and, " from that time, 
 many of his disciples went back, and walked no more 
 with hini." It was then, that the Saviour said to tlie 
 twelve, whom Ik; iiad selected to be the foundation of 
 his church, " W'\\\ yo also go away?" To this affect- 
 ing question, Peter gave that excellent, all-expressive 
 reply, " Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the 
 words of eternal life." 
 
 This passage of Scripture is capable of very valuable 
 improvement. So long as the human mind continues 
 a tenant in a talxMnacle of flesh, till the period arrives 
 ■when imperfection shall not bound its knowledge, but 
 it shall see, with expanded powers, all that through 
 faith it now believes, there will, there must be, some 
 things in revelation, hard to be understood. So long 
 as human nature is averse from spiritual truth, till clad 
 in humility the mind can receive any instruction from 
 the Most High, these mysteries of religion will be 
 made " stumbling blocks," and used to prevent men 
 from following Christ. So long as there are infidels 
 in the world, and vehicles for difl'using their senti- 
 ments, till the promised time is realized, when no man 
 shall need say to his neighbour, know you the Lord, 
 the ambassadors of Christ will have occasion to say to 
 his disciples, in behalf of their Master, "Will ye also
 
 SETTLED PRIiNCIPLES IN RELIGION. Oio 
 
 go away?" Happy for them, if their hearts always 
 dictate the answer of St. Peter! Let us, my -brethren,- 
 consider what it implies, that we may see its force, its 
 fulness, and its beauty. " Lord, to whom shall we go? 
 Thou hast the words of eternal life." 
 
 The first thing here implied is, that man must have 
 some fixed i)rinciples; that if he relinquish Chris- 
 tianity, he must have some other system of opinions: 
 that if he leave Christ, he must seek some othtr in- 
 structor. Whether we consider it as affecting the dig- 
 nity, or the hapi)iness of man, tliis sentiment is just. 
 He who has a mind and uses it, cannot be easy, much 
 less positively happy, while wandering in the vague 
 fields of conjecture, without any definite and determi- 
 nate opinions. It were as easy for a vessel destitute 
 of anchor and ballast, to ride safe and stately upon the 
 waters, amidst the commotion of the elements, as for 
 him to act with propriety and satisfaction, amidst the 
 commotion of occurrences upon the ocean of life. 
 Would I paint a scene of ignobleness, perplexities, 
 and inconsistencies, it should he the mind of one, who 
 thinks, and has no settled i)rincii)les. It argues a 
 disuse of the most honourable i)rerogative of men. It 
 exposes to all the wildness, and weariness of uncer- 
 tainty. It must be less at ease, than even scepticism 
 itself, determined to be led by its own blind, and 
 maimed offspring. 
 
 But, in general, some religious system will be neces- 
 sary. Some sentiment of this kind, man has ever 
 possesst^d. His mind cannot divest itself wholly of 
 the idea of a Supreme Being. It is found with him 
 in the woods of nature, and it follows him to the seats 
 of civilization. Accompanying this, is the conscious- 
 ness of his moral nature, and the faint sentiment of 
 immortality. These grand princijiles, are the founda- 
 tion of religion, and, possessed of them, he is naturally 
 led to devise a worshi}), and define virtue. He may 
 produce very rude and contradictory schemes; but til!
 
 374 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 
 
 he can eradicate from his nature, the deeply engraven 
 sentiment of an invisible ruling power, he will, he 
 must, have some religious principles. If he be unac- 
 quainted with the true God, he pays his homasfe to the 
 sun, the moon, the departed hero, or the hallowed 
 idol. If he be ignorant of the pure Christian wor- 
 ship, he seeks to honour and i)lease his deity, with 
 temples, sacrifices, and holy gestures. If he have not 
 heard the lectures of Christ, he listens to Confucius, to 
 Plato, or to any one w ho tells him what is riglit, and 
 discourses upon his chief good. In short, the princi- 
 ples interwoven in his constitution, are such, that he 
 will possess some sentiment of duty, and seek some 
 system of right. Nature inclines man to religion. 
 Atheists alone, can feel wholly indifferent to it, and of 
 not one of them is she the parent. All other charac- 
 ters, must wish to know how they may acceptably 
 worship God, and rightly regulate their conduct. 
 There can be little doubt in the mind of any one, who 
 has studied the history, and observed the nature of 
 man, that if every vestige of Christianity could be 
 swept from the world, he would soon devise for him- 
 self some other, and far more imperfect system of 
 religion. 
 
 This brings me to observe, another thing implied in 
 the answer, viz: that no one can leave the religion of 
 Christ, and better himself by the exchange. Another 
 system so perfect, so consistent, so promotive of virtue, 
 so conducive to public and private felicity, is not 
 within his reach. If he turn back from following the 
 Messiah, he must listen to less perfect teachers. Upon 
 the most important subjects, they can give no instruc- 
 tion. " To whom shall he go," for a satisfactory 
 account of liis own origin, nature, and destination? 
 " To whom shall he go," for a discovery of the cha- 
 racter and will of the Most High? " To whom shall 
 he go," for rules of conduct, which will insure him 
 virtue, peace, and joy? ."To whom shall he go" for
 
 SETTLED PRINClPLEg IN RELIGION. 375 
 
 support, in the moment of grief, of pain, and of death? 
 ** To whom shall he go," for a history of death, and 
 instruction about the final state of the soul? In each, 
 and all of these points, he is deeply interested ; but 
 where, if the Gospel is not satisfactory, where shall he 
 get information about any of them ? Shall he go to 
 the heathen oracles ? Long since they became mute, 
 and when they spake, far from instructing, they per- 
 plexed inquirers. Shall he go to the Pagan Philoso- 
 phers? They cannot speak to him with certainty, 
 upon the most imi)ortant topics, and best show their 
 wisdom, by owning their ignorance. Shall he go to 
 Muhammed? His heaven is not rational, his morality 
 is not divine. What there is good in him, is evidently 
 taken from the Gospel, and with it, much vile matter 
 is incorporated. Shall he go to the god of modern 
 invention, shall he go to reason? She Yrankly avows 
 her inability to teach mankind, and declares that, it is 
 only in seasons of her insanity, that she has been dei- 
 fied. There is, indeed, none to whom he may go, 
 that can meet and satisfy his inquiries; feel and solace 
 his sorrows; know and confirm his hopes, if he turn 
 his back upon that messenger from heaven, in whom 
 *' all fulness dwells." 
 
 " Words of eternal life" are with Jesus Christ. He 
 hath come from the Father to sinful men, with the 
 overtures of everlasting mercy. That atonement for 
 our sins, which we could not make for ourselves, this 
 Son of the Highest hath accomplished with his blood. 
 That aid of the Holy Ghost, by which our spirits, 
 *' dead in trespasses and sins," are quickened, he hath 
 obtained for us by his obedience and sufferings. Those 
 shackles of death, with which our nature was bound, 
 he hath dissolved, and hath " opened the kingdom of 
 heaven to all believers." To you, and to me, and to 
 all who will come unto him, he is authorized in behalf 
 of the Everlasting Father, to offer the remission of 
 sins, and everlasting life. By his miracles and doc-
 
 376 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 
 
 trines ; " by his cross and passion ; by his death and 
 burial; by his glorious resurrection and ascension, and 
 by the coming of the Holy Ghost," lie hath provided 
 the means wiiereby we may live; and hath established 
 the assurance of rest and immortality, to the people of 
 God. 
 
 This brings me to remark, further, as implied in St. 
 Peter's answer, that an assurance of eternal life, is the 
 object of the highest import to man's happiness; and 
 that it is enough to attach one to the religion of Jesus, 
 that in it, this most interesting assurance is credibly 
 revealed. And what, indeed, to the unfortiuiate inha- 
 bitants of this region of sin, and mutability, can be so 
 valuable as this docnine? Such is the condition of 
 society, that a belief in a futurt* retribution, seems 
 necessary to secure its interests, and give eftlcacy to its 
 laws. Such are the circumstances of our present be- 
 ing, that the doctrine of immortality seems almost 
 necessary, to give worth to life. Indeed, what, with- 
 out it, can explain to our minds the jiromiscuous dis- 
 tribution of good and evil? What, without it, can 
 support suffering virtue, or console bleeding aflection? 
 What, without it, can compose tlie agitated conscience, 
 and convey to the bosom of the penitent sinner, the 
 cheering beams of hope and peace? What, but the 
 assurance of a resurrection of the dead, can slay our 
 tears, when our friends, the dear objects around whom 
 we have entwined our heart-strings, arc turned to 
 dust? What, but the blessed hope of a future exist- 
 ence, with certain knowledge how the transgressions 
 of life may be pardoned, and our futurity rendered 
 blissful, can strengthen our steps, when we descend to 
 the grave, and preserve our spirits from despondence? 
 Were we left to sorrow under the consciousness of sin, 
 under the pressure of afflictions, and under the know- 
 ledge of our mortality, without any voice to whisper 
 mercy in our ears, or any hand to point our eyes to iiea- 
 ven : how deep the gloom w hich would hang upon life ;
 
 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 377 
 
 how awful the darkness which would envelope the 
 grave! The assurance of another world, is the soul's 
 only amulet, amidst the ills of this. It was the want 
 of this assurance, which rendered the best of the hea- 
 thens dissatisfied with their attainments. Could they 
 have received the Gospel, in which are " the words of 
 eternal life," they would have pressed it with their 
 bosoms, and wetted it with their tears. Well, then, 
 might this doctrine alone, attach Peter to the religion 
 of his Lord. He heard ir taught by Christ. He was 
 convinced of the credibility with which he spake. 
 He believed the grand doctrine, attested by all the 
 evidence which the case would admit. What, then, 
 should induce him to leave the teacher of a truth, 
 which yielded the highest satisfaction of which man 
 is susceptible? It is a truth, without which no system 
 would reach the wants, and quiet the anxieties of 
 human nature. In vain would he recur for it to any 
 other source. It could be found only in the religion 
 of .Jesus Christ. There was wisdom, therefore, as 
 well as fidelity, in adhering to his Lord; for he, and 
 he only, had " the words of eternal life." And though 
 the good Apostle was, afterwards, shaken from his 
 steadfastness, it was only for a moment; and let it be 
 remembered, as an instructive lesson to all who are 
 tempted to apostacy, that when he thought thereon, 
 he " wept bitterly." 
 
 This leads me to observe, lastly, that this answer of 
 St. Peter implies, a full satisfaction in the religion of 
 Christ. This is in the highest degree rational. Here, 
 all is expressed which it is necessary for man, on 
 earth, to know. There can be no reason, therefore, 
 to expect any further dispensations from heaven. 
 Compared with this, no system is so consistent, full, 
 and adapted to man's desires. If the evidences which 
 support it be examined, they are such as the nature of 
 things requires, and broad as any foundation of belief 
 and practice. Are its rules of life studied? They 
 
 VOT.. II. 48
 
 378 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 
 
 reach every case, and are approved by reason. Is it 
 im|)ortant what prize is proffered? It is the greatest 
 felicity that can be conceived or df^sired, eternal life. 
 Such, being the satisfaction which Christians may feel 
 in their religion, we wonder that there sliould ever be 
 occasion for the question, "Will ye also go away?" 
 We cannot but unite our voices with Peter and say ; 
 " Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words 
 of eternal life." 
 
 We see, then, my hearers, that man ever has had, 
 and will have, some religious principles; that it is, 
 impossible for any one to leave the Gospel of the 
 Redeemer, and hnd a system of opinions, so suited 
 to his nature and happiness; that " words of eternal 
 life," the object of our highest concern, are with its 
 Author, who, alone, " hath brought life and immor- 
 tality to light." Contemplating these things, it should 
 seem cause for surprise, that among those who had 
 known " the truth as it is in Jesus," there should be 
 occasion for the riuestion, '' will ye also go away?" 
 But pride has ever turned from humbling truths, and 
 depravity s])urned at precepts which would restrain 
 its propensities. We live in an age, in which, alas, 
 the dereliction of Christianity, must excite much re- 
 gret in the bosom of every friend to truth, and man- 
 kind. Was the Saviour now upon earth, how often, 
 and how anxiously would he repeat the question 
 which he put, in the text, to his beloved twelve! A 
 philosophy has appeared in the world, whose evident 
 object is, to raise itself on the ruins of Christianity. 
 It is specious in its appearance; lofty in its preten- 
 sions, and addresses itself to those dispositions and 
 properties of mcui, which arc most easily deluded. 
 God grant, tiiat in this young, and happy country, 
 none may be so infatuated as to approach this philo- 
 sophy, which, like some ileleterious plant, covered 
 with luxuriant foliage, and llowers of lively hue, car- 
 ries in its veins a virulent poison, and slicds a deadly
 
 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 379 
 
 influence upon every thing within its reach. Let us, 
 rather, learn to estimate justly, those " words of eter- 
 nal life," which we have in the Gospel, and to ask 
 ourselves, what will be our prospects, to whom wo 
 shall go, if we neglect the Redeemer? Jjovers of vir- 
 tue, anxious to elevate your nature by adorning it with 
 the qualities which are " pure," " lovely," and " of 
 good report," is nor your ways made plain, and your 
 strength increased, by the instructions and influences 
 of Christianity? Children of sorrow, whose day of 
 life is overcast with gloom, are not your sighs sus- 
 pended, and your bosoms composed, when the Angel 
 of the Gospel descends through the cloud, speaking 
 peace to your perturbated spirits, and oixMiing to you 
 a state in which, \vith your friends, you shall be for 
 ever removed from trouble and death, " and God shall 
 wipe away all tears from every eye." Followers of 
 the Lamb, incumbered with the frailties and imper- 
 fections of nature, yet cons(;ious of accountability, and 
 fearfully looking forward to the "judgement to come," 
 is it not your choicest felicity to know, that ye " have 
 an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righte- 
 ous, and that he is the propitiation for your sins." 
 Will ye then go away? Alas, to whom will you go! 
 Will you leave " the Rock of Ages," and throw your- 
 selves upon the unbounded, confused, and perilous 
 ocean of uncertainty? Cleave, rather, to the only 
 hope of this ruined world. Abide in the Lord Jesus. 
 Prize, above all price, the knowledge of his grace and 
 faith in him. Let the language of your lips and souls, 
 in every hour of distrust or temptation be, " Lord, to 
 whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal 
 life."
 
 SERMON LXXXI. 
 
 ON THE CHRISTIAN EDUCATION OF 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 ExoDCs, ii. 9. 
 
 Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will 
 give thee thy wages. 
 
 A HE Christian education of children, is among the 
 most interesting, and momentous concerns of the 
 Christian world. A cruel adversary, intends the de- 
 struction of them all. Nature frames for them, it is 
 all she can do, frames for them, an ark, no better, alas! 
 than " an ark of bulrushes;" and in it, she leaves 
 them to waves, and winds, and monsters, prowling for 
 what they may destroy. The Son of God descries 
 them in their exposed situation. He sends his minis- 
 tering servants, and takes them from it. He procures 
 for them by the order of his providence, those who
 
 EDUCATION OF CUILDREN. 381 
 
 may protect and nurture them, till they shall be grown 
 up, for a noble and happy life. And to the parents, 
 the guardians, the sponsors towliom he commits them, 
 I conceive him saying, in every case, " Take this 
 child and nurse him for me, and I will give thee thy 
 wages." 
 
 What are the wages of fidelity, in the important 
 work of the Christian education of children? Upon 
 this inquiry, my respected hearers, I would invite you 
 to bestow your consideration. For such are these 
 wages, so numerous, so great, and of such duration, 
 that whoever will faithfully estimate and sum them 
 up, shall be unable to refrain from wonder, that all 
 who have children under their care, in the Christian 
 world, are not much, and asxiously engaged, in nurs- 
 ing them for God. 
 
 In the first place, then, a part of the reward of 
 fidelity, in religiously educating your children, consists 
 in the pleasure of the work. It is an innocent, an 
 interesting, and an honourable occupation. In the 
 performance of it, there is a delight, of a i)ure and 
 durable character, worthy of the intelligence of man. 
 That heart must surely be destitute itself, of lively 
 affection for the Deity, and for the truths which he 
 has revealed, which finds no pleasure, in guiding the 
 youthful mind to its Creator, and imbuing it with the 
 principles, which may remove its deformities, and fit 
 it for eternal life. Do you take delight in raising a 
 precious plant, in propping an opening flower, in 
 guiding a luxuriant vine, in pruning, for its health and 
 its beauty, a fruitful tree; and shall you not find a 
 much more exalted satisfaction, in training the germs 
 of virtue, and cherishing the opening flowers of grace, 
 in pruning from the heart, its excrescences, and the 
 branches of its defects, and guiding the disi)osition, 
 into all the forms of beauty ? Do you experience a 
 lively gratification in adorning the bodies, accomplish- 
 ing the manners, and developing the personal beauties
 
 362 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 of your offspring; and shall you not find higher plea- 
 sure in the business of cultivating tiieir minds, adorninii 
 them with the qualities and graces, in u hich they will 
 be lovely in the sight of God and angels, and nurturing 
 the beauties, which you know shall live for ever? 
 Consider, that your children have spirits; consider 
 they are destined for immortality. Every plant of 
 virtue which you plant in them, siiall bloom through 
 eternity. By every progress you make in rendering 
 them good, you beautify the intellectual creation of 
 God. What interest does this give, to the work of 
 their education ! How great the designs it intends! 
 How pleasing the expectations which animate it! If 
 "these little ones" have "angels, who always behold 
 the face of their Father in heaven," the delight which 
 springs to these angels, from their relation to them, is 
 found, I conceive, in the work of ministering to their 
 salvation. 
 
 Again. There enters into the reward of religiously 
 educating children, the pleasure which arises from 
 doing good to society. It is a generous satisfaction, 
 which flows in the bosom of man, from the conscious- 
 ness of having benclitiHl mankind. And who are 
 they, that benefit mankind: Let the (juestion be ans- 
 wered, by adverting to the sources, from which the 
 imperfections and miseries of society proceed. Have 
 they not all proceeded, either mediately, or immedi- 
 ately, from the passions and vices, the moral feeble- 
 ness, and spiritual death, to which, since the fall, our 
 race have been subject? And who are they, that have 
 most effectually contracted these sources? Let the 
 question be put to Wisdom, who stands by the throne 
 of God, and she will turn from the splendid hero, and 
 busy statesman, and fastening her eyes U|)on the pa- 
 rents, whose goodly offspring are abroad in society, 
 fearing God, practising charity, and subduing in them- 
 selves, the wrong passions and inclinations of their 
 nature, and cheering their hearts, and the hearts of
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. S85 
 
 ©thers, with the prospect of a better world ; and will 
 say of such parents, these are the men. He, who 
 introduces the seed of a useful grain into a country, 
 contributes more, as some one has well observed, to 
 the happiness of that country, than its mightiest war- 
 rior, and most victorious chief. But more highly 
 founded yet, is their claim to this pre-eminence, whose 
 culture is the hearts of the young, and the seeds they 
 introduce, seeds of goodness, brought by his beloved 
 Son to our world, from the garner of God. To know 
 the real condition of mankind, you must go home with 
 them to their business and their bosoms; you must 
 look into their families, their houses, and their souls. 
 It is here, in their domestic scenes, amidst their daily 
 enjoyments and sorrows, that the good is to be 
 weighed, by the amount of which, the measure of 
 their happiness will be most correctly estimated. To 
 this good no individuals, perhaps, contribute more 
 lai'gely, than those parents who give to society a race 
 of children, enriched with the principles and habits, on 
 which this good does chiefly depend. Of the high 
 satisfaction, therefore, which rewards him, who can 
 say, I have benefited my country, I have added to the 
 happiness and honour of my race, every such parent, 
 whatever his condition in life, wiien he looks upon his 
 children, is entitled to partake. It is of such offspring, 
 that the Psalmist must be understood to speak, when 
 he says, " Like as the arrows in the hand of the giant, 
 so are the young children. Happy is the man that 
 hath his quiver full of them ; they shall not bo 
 ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the 
 gate." 
 
 Further. There is high honour in co-operating 
 with God, and great happiness in conforming to the 
 intentions of his [irovidence. Of this honour and hap- 
 piness, they eminently are sharers, who are engaged in 
 guiding the young children, in the paths of his will. 
 Their salvation is dear to God. For it, he hath given
 
 384 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 his Son to live in our flesh, and die upon the cross; 
 for it, he hath condescended to furnisli the li?ht of his 
 word, and to offer the assistance of his Holy Spirit. 
 The accomphsliment of his wishes, he has very nuich 
 confided to their parents, and spiritual guardians. 
 He Jiath committed to thom, the care of llie souls, as 
 well as of the bodies of tiieir oflspring. And in the 
 helplessness of the child, and experience of the parent; 
 in the docility of the former, and authority of t\^e latter, 
 a state of things rcsultiiii:; from that order of nature, 
 which he, himself, hath constituted, he, doubtless, 
 intended a provision for the wellbeing of his human 
 children, not only with respect to the present life, but 
 also to their eternal existence. The affection which 
 moves the parental bosom, it is his voice crying, " Take 
 this child, and nurse him for me." Alas! that through 
 the blindness which has fallen upon our natine, this 
 affection is limited in its views, and so many chihlren 
 nursed only for the world. If there be any pleasure, 
 in conforming to the intentions of Ciod's providence, 
 in the order of nature wiiich he hath established, and 
 probably the degree of this conformity in every person, 
 is the exact measure of his happiness, of that pleasure 
 they will participate, who train their young for their 
 high moral destinies, who nurtme them for immortal- 
 ity. If there be any honour in being ct)-operators with 
 the Most High God, and it is in this co-operation that 
 the highest Seraph of heaven linds the honour, in 
 which he most delights himself, of that honour they 
 may know themselves to be sharers, who conduct their 
 ciiildren into the paths, which he hath sent the Son of 
 iiis love, to open for them, and guide them to the cross, 
 on which he hath caused that Sou to be lifted up, that 
 thf\v may look unto him, and be saved. 
 
 Once more. The good of his children, is what 
 every parent proposes to himself, as the object, per- 
 haps, of his fondest desire, as the motive to all his 
 parental eondncr. And herein, i*; a laru;e part of the
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDRLN. 385 
 
 wages of fidelity, in rcli:;iously educating tliem, that, 
 thereby, their greatest good in this life, will be most 
 effectually promoted. It is a perilous, and unhappy 
 world, into which you introduce them. And yet, the 
 misfortune is, that in education, respect is more gene- 
 rally had to its pleasures, than its sorrows; to its 
 honours, than its snares. The great question con- 
 cerning your offiipring is, where in it shall wisdom be 
 found, and where is the place of satisfaction ? Temp- 
 tations will assail them. Troubles will overtake them. 
 Death will claim them. You have to fortify them 
 against vice, and tribidations; you have to qualify 
 them, if your education of them is adapted to their 
 condition in this world, not only to live, but also to 
 die. Look around you. See in what paths they shall 
 be most likely to find i)eace. Examine the claims of 
 wealth, of honour, of rank, of power, of pleasure. 
 Turn to religion. Institute a comparison between her 
 claims, and theirs. lucpiirc, \\ hich of them has most 
 efficacy to quell the passions, which are the parents of 
 evil; to sooth the sorrows, which are the offs|)ring of 
 our condition; to open sources of happiness, at which 
 the weary spirit may always be refreshed; to pour 
 upon life's path an uniform cheerful light; to give to 
 the soul a tranquil contented character; and to take 
 the barbs from the arrows of death? Such a compa- 
 rison, will, assuredly, produce a result in favour of a 
 Christian education. " If there is one condition in 
 this life," says the sensible and celebrated Bishop 
 Watson, " if there is one condition in this life, more 
 happy than another, it is Purely that of him, who 
 founds all his hope of futurity, on the [iromises of the 
 Gospel: who carefully endeavours to conform his 
 actions to its precepts; looking upon the great God 
 Almighty, as his protector here, his rewarder hereafter, 
 and his everlasting preserver. This is a frame of 
 mind, so perfective of our nature, that if Christianity, 
 from a belief of which it can only be derived, were a?? 
 vol.. I!. 49
 
 386 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 certainly false, as it is certainly true, one could not 
 help wishing, that it might be universally received in 
 the world." This derision, I doubt not, would be 
 always confirmed by fact. Where, indeed, will you 
 find a shield to defend your ofi'spring from the ills of 
 life, if you find it not in the Gospel? Where will you 
 find the friend, wjjom tliey must every day need, if 
 you find him not in Jesus the Redeemer? As you 
 love the satisfaction of |)romotiivg the good of your 
 children here, " bring them up in the nurture and ad- 
 monition of the Lord." It is a Christian education, 
 which will, most effectually, form in them those qual- 
 ties of character, which will render them lovely and 
 useful among men; those habits of life, which will be 
 most productive to them of peace and contentment, 
 respectabilit} and health, and those dis|)ositions and 
 hopes, which will smooth their pillows, when their 
 temples shall be throhbing under the sorrows of be- 
 reavement, or the pains of death. You may give 
 them wealth, and it may prove injurious to them; you 
 may procure them honours, and these may be a vexa- 
 tion; you may give them knowledge, and even that 
 shall be unsatisfactory, unless you give them instruc- 
 tion in the faith and fear of God. I^eave them un- 
 blessed with religion's counsels, and unsecure of reli- 
 gion's care, and you may live to see them, if not mel- 
 ancholy examples of the unhajiiiiness of unrenewed 
 man, yet halting with dissatisfaction and weariness, 
 in the paths into which you have conducted them, 
 before they have half completed their course, and say- 
 ing to themselves, perhaps to those who pass by, " all 
 is vanity and vexation of spirit." 
 
 This leads me to observe in the fifth place, that the 
 faithful parent, has a recomi)ense for his care, in the 
 religious education of his children, in the greater secu- 
 rity of his own happiness. It is through the child, 
 that the heart of a parent is most vulnerable. *' M\ 
 son," says Solomon, " if thy heart be wise, my heart
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 387 
 
 shall rejoice, even mine." Ah, from these relations, 
 which were designed by the Creator, to be productive 
 of the sweetest joys of man's sul)lunary existence, 
 what bitterness has flowed! I see a Father, in the 
 evenine; of his life, wlien nature asks for peace, and 
 cheerful hope, waiting, with a beating bosom, and a 
 furrowed brow, for tlie final rest which seems to him 
 slow in coniins- The i)roflii5acy of a child has stung 
 for him, the joy of life, and is "bringing down his 
 gray hairs witli sorrow to the grave." in her inmost 
 chamber, I see a Mother on her bended knees. She 
 is looking to heaven, and tears are on her cheeks. For 
 what does she ask? With a trembling lij> she ven- 
 tures to supplicate, that CJod would forgive and save 
 her olFcnding child. Who can b( hold them, and not 
 remember the sacred record, " a wise son, maketh a 
 glad father; but a foolish son, is the heaviness of his 
 mother." Hcr^, a drunkard; and there, a gambler; 
 here, a deceiver; and thcie, a man of blood; here, an 
 Absalom; and there, a Simon and a Levi; here, a 
 fa.iiijy of conrtntion, and there, an unthankful indivi- 
 dual, break down the manly strength, which was once 
 employed in their support, and plant, in the breasts, 
 which once nourished them, the arrows of an anguish, 
 which cannot be uttered. Whence the evil r Either 
 they were not taught sufficiently early, and with sufli- 
 cient assiduity, the import and authority of God's 
 laws, or their perverse wills were not bent by the pa- 
 rental hand, and parental prayers, to an habitual ob- 
 servance of them. For very different, surely, is the 
 case of those parents, whose children have been 
 brought ui) at the feet of the Redeemer, and accus- 
 tomed, from their earliest years, to admire his precepts, 
 and imitate his life. They are, indeed, " like olive 
 branches round about" their father's " table." The 
 fragrance of their virtues perfumes his house, and all 
 that enter it are refreshed. The holy dove, at times, 
 descends upon them to whom, as " olive branches,"
 
 388 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 they are fitly consecrated. The parental eye behokl? 
 them with delight, lovely, and flourisliin^, and advan- 
 cing to a state, in which they shall, one day, be meet t«) 
 be transplanted into the heavenly Paradise, *' the gar- 
 den of God." What greater earthly solace can i)a- 
 rents have, than children such as these? But this is 
 not all their present happiness. Parents must die. 
 The hour comes, when your chiUlren shall stand 
 around you, and you will perceive that you are halving 
 them without you, in this evil world. What can miti- 
 gate this anguish of death ? What, but to be able to 
 say of them, when you cast on them your final look» 
 " I am going to my Father and to their Father, to my 
 God and to their God."' They will honour me in 
 their lives, when I shall be gone. Tlie Almighty is 
 their friend, and he will i<rotcct tiien). Short is the 
 period, for which we shall be se|)arated. They, too, 
 will die, and come to me, thougii I shall not return to 
 them. Hai)py portion of an expiring pareut I Wages 
 this, for training his children in the paths of goodness, 
 which more than recompense all his care! 
 
 But not in this life, is the reward of the faithful in 
 any case complete. By far t!ie largest part of the 
 wages, which God, in his mercy, has pron)ised to any 
 of their good \> orks, is reserved to be given tliein in 
 the great day of the linal consummation. And to the 
 Christian parents, whose children shall have been 
 Christians, that d;iy will be indeed a day of un*;|!eak- 
 able joy. Imagine yoiu'sclves standing with your oft- 
 spring, at the tiibunal of heaven. The numerous gen- 
 erations of men, the angels and archimgels of God, 
 the seven spirits of the I\Iost Ilish. all are present. 
 Conceive tl'.e blessed Son of God taking your children 
 by the hand, and presenting them to the Father as 
 rightful ht irs of eternal bliss. Picture to yourselves, 
 the ministering spirits clothing them with the *' white 
 robes," placing upon their heads the " crowns of glo- 
 ry," and p.utting ir.to their h:m;ls the L-oid^^n hnrps on
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 389 
 
 w'hicli tliey arc to strike before the throne the strains 
 of celestial gladness. They bow before the Almighty 
 in thankful adoration of him, for their stupendous in- 
 heritancj;, and turn to you an eye, wTiich speaks a 
 recollection of your care, whfn you nurtured tlicm for 
 this bliss, and a grateful satisfaction that you are par- 
 takers of their joy. The everhistins; Father, seals 
 their investiture, and bids tiiem " follow the Lamb 
 whithersoever he goeth." And turning to you, he 
 bids you be ever with them, and smiles complacently 
 on your fidelity. Christians, to such a tribunal you, 
 iuul your offspring, must, one day, be brought; and joy 
 like this, shall, in that day, be the portion of every 
 parent, \\ ho siiall be found to have taken his children, 
 and nursed them faithfully for Ciod. There is an 
 awful counterpart to this scene. I cannot describe it. 
 I cannot ask you, to imagine your children turned by 
 God, from the company of the good, and going away 
 from heaven, into regions of darkness and undiscov- 
 ered woe. I cannot call upon you, either to conceive 
 yotirsclves, for your criminal negligence, descending 
 with them into the abyss of ijcrdition, or to behold 
 from any station, the smoke of their torment ascend- 
 ing up for ever. I cannot bid you hear the accusations, 
 which, from the place of their torments, they utter 
 unceasingly against you. The scene appals the soul. 
 The horror, which the thought of it pours over tin; 
 mind, is too great to be long endured. Nor can T 
 willingly believe, that to well taught Christians, the 
 motive drawn from the miseries of the damned, can 
 possibly be needed, when there is set before them, the 
 motive, which must surely be irresistible, of beholding 
 their children shining as the sun in the kingdom of 
 God, for ever and ever. 
 
 Such are the rewards which should induce you, my 
 hearers, to engage in the Christian education of your 
 cl'.ildren. To such education, tlier(^ have been urged 
 sometimes two objections, wliicii, as they may possibly
 
 390 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 present tliemselves to your minds, it behoves me to 
 notice. There are some, who have deemed it unad^ 
 visable, to prejudice the minds of children upon the 
 subject of religion; conceiving it l)etter to leave them, 
 till they arrive at years of discretion, to choose for 
 themselves. This objection, if reliiiion were a thing 
 of questionable authority or importance, might seem 
 to have some validity. But with Christians, and they 
 are Christians whom I address, the truth of the Gospel 
 is indubitable, and the revelations it contains, air 
 acknowledsed as the best sift of God to the human 
 race. A thing positively good, yea, a good above all 
 other things, a i)arent, surely, is bound to secure, if he 
 can, for his child. He might as well refuse to take 
 possession for him, in his minority, of an invaluable 
 estate, because it was doubtful whether, when he 
 should be grown up, he would care to hav(; it. 
 
 Beside, this objection if specious, in theory, would, 
 it is feared, be found pernicious in practice. Such is 
 the nature of man, that if good j)rincii)les and habits 
 are not planted in him, the soil of itself, or the enemy 
 that would destroy him, will produce bad ones. If he 
 be not bent to goodness, and pruned to fruilfulness, 
 liis growth will be rank and worthless. (lo into the 
 woods; and select there the knotted, and gnarled, and 
 fruitlessly luxuriant vine: and you will have in it an 
 eml)lcm of those children, for whom no fatluM- watches, 
 no mother prays; wiiom no kind hand guides and cul- 
 tivates, as God hath instructed ; but a mistaken philoso- 
 phy attempts to dignify with the imposing name of, 
 children of nature. 
 
 Moreover, unto Christians, the will of God is known 
 upon the subject. It is intimated, as has already been 
 observed! in the body of this discourse, it is intimated 
 by the order of nature which he has established, to 
 liave been his purpose, that parents should have the 
 care of the minds, as well as the bodies, of their in-
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. S91 
 
 fants, and form the morals, as well as the manners of 
 their children. If he have not excluded these little 
 ones from his holy baptism, the admission of them to 
 this rite manifests, how far it is his will, that they 
 should early be devoted to him, and brought under the 
 influences of the Gospel. And with what believer 
 can there remain a doubt, not only of the expediency 
 of the thing, but of the great obligation to it, who pon- 
 ders this inspired decision; "These words which I 
 command tliee this day, shall be in thy heart, and thou 
 shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt 
 talk of them when thou sittest in the house, and when 
 thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, 
 and when thou risest up." 
 
 Tl»e other objection, is of more disheartening cha- 
 racter. It is drawn from the ill success which seems, 
 sometimes, to attend the eflbrts of pious parents. Of- 
 ten, it is said, the reward of carefulness in this matter, 
 is not received. Now, it is very doubtful, whether in 
 fact, the cases are many, in which faithful and com- 
 plete endeavours of parents, to train y\\) their children 
 in the way they should go, do entirely fail. In most 
 cases, they unquestionably succeed. So far as we are 
 acquainted with the history of the eminent servants of 
 God, who are immortalized in the record of his holy 
 word, they app(!ar to have been religiously educated in 
 their youth. David and Samuel, and the good Josiah; 
 Solomon, and Obadiah, the virtuous Joseph, and the 
 beloved Timothy, were all brought early in life to the 
 knowledge and fear of God. It is said to be worthy of 
 remark, that most of the Kings of Israel, who had any 
 merit, had reecived in their youth the instructions of 
 religion, and this, in many instances, through the care 
 of their mothers. And of those, in the Christian 
 world, who attain to virtue and eternal life, it is not 
 to be doubted, that a large part have received in their 
 earliest years, through tiie instrumentality of parental, 
 or oiher instruction, that incorruptible seed of the
 
 392 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
 
 word of God, by which they were bom again to their 
 higli inheritance and attainments. 
 
 Some cases, however, there are, in whicli the ex- 
 pected effects of a religious education, seem not to be 
 produced. But, in tliese cases, our judgement should 
 be suspended, till the life is finished. For, oftentimes, 
 the seeds of goodness are seasonably sown, but the 
 weeds of corrupt nature spring up first, and strongest, 
 and choke the better plants. These weeds, however, 
 have their growth, and wither. And from the beds 
 on which they have fallen, and decayed, the seeds 
 which were early sown, and on which have descended 
 secretly, and often, the i)owerful influence of a Parent's 
 prayer, do, alter the lapse of forty, or fifty years, at 
 length spring up and produce al)undantly in the even- 
 ing of life, the fruits of faith, and righteousness, and 
 peace. Many, i)robabIy, are the instances of this 
 Jund, in which parents live not to behold, unless, 
 indeed, they behold from heaven, tiie happy effects to 
 their children, of their pious care to educate them reli- 
 giously. 
 
 Let us, however, suppose the worst. Let us ima- 
 gine, that on some very depraved being, these par(Mital 
 labours are bestowed in vain. Of whom will the 
 situation be least intolerable, of ti»at jKirent who, in 
 rendering to the Almighty his account of the manage- 
 ment of his children, shall be able to say, all that I 
 could 1 did? Or that parent, with whom will remain 
 the bitter, the distracting reflection, but for my neg- 
 ligence, to this, my child, eternity might have been 
 blissful, who now must go into everlasting woe? 
 
 I have detained you long, my bretlircJi, upon this 
 subject; too long, I am afraid, for your pleasure; but 
 not too long for the importance of the theme. INIay 
 God Alniiglity send his blessing upon w hat you have 
 heard. Take; now your children, whom the Son of 
 God delivered from " the waves of this troublesome 
 world." and h;ivin:i adopted (hem as his own. has
 
 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 393 
 
 committeil to you to be nurtured for his kingdom, take 
 these, your offspring, and nurse them for him; and, in 
 his name, I say unto you, he will in some shape or 
 oti»er, give you yonr reward. 
 
 von.. Mi 50
 
 ^ 
 
 SERJMON LXXXIl. 
 
 SOLICITUDE FOR TIIK PROSPERITY OF 
 RELIGION. 
 
 I Samuel, iv. 13. 
 
 For his heart trembled for the Ark of God. 
 
 jL OU have here a picture of good old Eli, in one of 
 the most interesting situations in wliicii man was ever 
 seen. After that terrible defeat which the people of 
 Israel received from the Philistines, in the battle of 
 Aphek, they sent to Shiloh, and had the Ark of God 
 taken from its place, and brought among them, hoping 
 that this token of the divine presence, would revive 
 their courage, and preserve them from the hands of 
 their enemies. The rumour of it, at first disheartened 
 the foe; but their recent victory, and the cxhoftAlion,'^
 
 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 395 
 
 of their leaders, animated them to the onset; and the 
 battle was exceedingly fierce. It was a most momen- 
 tous combat. The glory of Israel was at stake. The 
 Ark of the Covenant was in the field. Eli had now 
 numbered "ninety and eight years" upon the earth; 
 and was blind. Neither on his limbs, nor yet with his 
 eyes, could he follow that Ark, before which he had 
 so long ministered ; and from which he had so often 
 received blessings, for himself and the people. His 
 soul was filled with anguish, that it had been torn from 
 its place between ihe Cherubim. He knew it was in 
 danger; exposed to the imprudence and heedlessness 
 of its friends, as well as to the rude blasphemies of the 
 enemy. Nothing could quiet his pious concern. Blind 
 as he was, he craw led to the high road, and with pro- 
 found anxiety sat there, listening to the approach of 
 every traveller, if, haply, he might hear from Ai)hek, 
 that all was well. It is in this situation, that the 
 Scripture presents him to our view, a most instructive, 
 and affecting model, of genuine piety. " He sat upon 
 a seat by the way side watching ; for his heart trem- 
 bled for the Ark of God." 
 
 It may, i)erhaps, appear improbable, that our anxi- 
 ety will ever be excited as Eli's was. It may be 
 feared, that our i)iety wriikl hardly rise to the noble 
 measure of his. But, we may be led by his example, 
 to observe, in the first place, that a good man will 
 always feel concerned for the safety, honour, and ad- 
 vancement of religion; and, secondly, to consider some 
 of the ways in which he may promote its reputation 
 and success. 
 
 In the success of the Gospel are involved, the plea- 
 sure and glory of God. The good man considers it, 
 as an august display of the divine perfections, as gain- 
 ing the Deity everlasting praises from angels and men, 
 as dear to the eternal mind in its design and accom- 
 plishment, and as vouchsafed to men in great mercy 
 and trust. As a creature, therefore, of the Most High
 
 396 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 
 
 God, he will feel concerned for the prosperity of a 
 work, upon which, from before the foundation of tiic 
 world, his Creator hath bestowed his care, and the 
 success of which, he earnestly desires, and hath sent 
 his Son to promote. He considers Christianity as 
 opening to the sinner, the only means of reconciliation 
 with his Maker; as affording to man, the best instruc- 
 tions and assistances for the right management of life; 
 and as offering to the inhabitants of this region of infir- 
 mity and sorrow, the most animating motives to virtue 
 and contentment, and the most enlivening prospects of 
 immortality. As a philanthropist, therefore, he will feel 
 interested in the safety of this Ark of mercy, before 
 which the i)enitent may find forgiveness, and the sor- 
 rowful and the dying, be cheered with soothing conso- 
 lations, and animating hopes. He considers religion, 
 as essential to the stability, happiness, and prosperity of 
 the state. As a patriot, therefore, he will devoutly wish, 
 that the altars of his country may never be destitute of 
 ministers, nor its temjiles of worshippers and friends. 
 He contrasts with tiie rude schemers of i)olytheism and 
 idolatry, which ancient legislators rendered sacred in 
 the state, the pure, the rational, the consoling theology 
 of the Gospel, and his love for his country w'lW lead 
 him to promote, such an extension of the knowledge 
 of Christianity, and such an attachment to its doc- 
 trines and worship, as may i)reserve it from being 
 taken away, as it has been from countries which were 
 once Christian, but through ignorance, and coldness, 
 and corruption, are so no more. When he considers 
 the value of this religion to himself, tliat it is the guide 
 of his youth, the comfort of his age, his joy in pros- 
 perity, his solace in adversity, and the stafi' of his 
 spirit when he shall pass through "the valley of death," 
 gratitude to its Author, will make him a faithlul guar- 
 dian of the treasure, with which he is entrusted, and 
 strengthen the pleas of charity, when she i)rom|)ts him 
 to extend the participation of it. In short, when he
 
 SOLICITUDE FDR RELIGION. 397 
 
 compares the objects which relision proposes, with 
 aught else of high estimation, and ardent pursuit, he 
 perceives that, w^ithout these, a man may possess all 
 other things, and be wretched; and, that witli these, 
 the humblest of the sons of men, may be resigned and 
 happy. He knows lliat her counsels are better than 
 strength; that her promises are preferable to riches; 
 that her joys no pleasures can equal ; and that her 
 holy influences alone, prepare the soul for heaven. 
 Her nature, therefore, as well as her origin, and the 
 great ends of her mission, render him careful of her 
 Imnour, and anxious lor her renown. He will be 
 filled with delight, when her interests are prospered, 
 and his heart will tremble for them, in the day of cor- 
 rui)tion. 
 
 But hath not the Author and head of the Christian 
 covenant, said, that " the gates of hell shall not prevail 
 against it?" He hath. And though, for the accom- 
 plishment of the divine jjurnoses, it may bo appointed 
 to many trials, and often enveloped in apparent dan- 
 gers, nothing shall destroy it. Like its ancient type, 
 the Ark of the old world, upborne by its own buoy- 
 ancy, and safe under the guidance of an invisible 
 power, it will rise above every deluge of depravit}', 
 which may threaten the world, and rise the sacred 
 deposit of all that can save, ennoble, and rejoice our 
 race. But while man continues as he is, proud, cor- 
 rupt, and hateful of tiie light, "because his deeds are 
 evil," it cannot be otherwise, than that the religion of 
 the Redeemer should have its adversaries, and be 
 sometimes exposed by its friends. Notwithstanding the 
 assurance, that the Gospel shall ultimately triumph, 
 there may be occasions and reflections which should 
 awaken the good man's solicitude. When philosophy 
 comes forth armed with arrows, which she has winged 
 with wit, and dipped in poison, will he not feel fearful, 
 that they may wound the lambs of the Redeemer's 
 fold, though, by his more wary followers, they should
 
 398 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 
 
 be avoided? When the professors of the faith aposta- 
 tize, or neglect the ordinances of the Church, or re- 
 lapse from the zeal, the lioliness, the purity, the cir- 
 cumspection, which the Gospel requires, is there not 
 cause for his anxiety, lest others shoukl go away, and 
 the worst enemies of the Saviour be of his own 
 household. When he ponders the solemn and memo- 
 rable inquiry of Christ, which the Evangelist hath 
 recorded, " when the Son of Man cometh, shall he 
 find faith on the earth ?" is there not enough in this 
 inquiry to excite iiis vigilance, and call forth his care 
 for the preservation of " tlie faith once delivcre<l unto 
 the saints?" Evident it is, that Christianity, like the 
 Ark of the Covenant, for which the Prophet watched, 
 may be endangered by those who place in it their con- 
 fidence; and there are enemies, into whose hands it 
 may fall, and be exposed to contumel}', and pollution. 
 These considerations will beget in the bosom of the 
 good man, a constant care for its reputation and pros- 
 perity. Not noisy, and hollow, will his concern for 
 the Ark of God be; but sincere, and deep, as Eli's 
 proved in the sequel of his story, which, '* where- 
 soever the Gospel is i)reached throughout the whole 
 world," is worthy to '' be told for a memorial of him." 
 As he sat by the way side, one came from xVphck. 
 Mark his solicitude when he inquires, " What is there 
 done, my son:" With inimitable tenderness, the mes- 
 senger replies, " Israel is lied before the Philistines: 
 and there hath been, also, a great slaughter among the 
 people; and thy two sons also, Ilophni and Phinehas 
 are dead ; and the Ark of God is taken." Behold, at 
 the mention of the capture of the Ark of his God, the 
 venerable old man swooned, fell backward from his 
 seat, and expired! He could hear of the flight of 
 Israel, with humble acquiescence. He could iiear of 
 the slaughter of tlie people, with silent sorrow. He 
 could hear of the death of iiis children, with chastised 
 regret. Bui, when the Ark of God was taken: when
 
 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 399 
 
 the delight of his heart, the hope of his country, the 
 glory of Israel, was gone; overpowered with sorrow, 
 his spirit failed him; he fell, and died. Sublime piety! 
 Wonderful instance of hallowed sensibility! Long, 
 thou venerable Seer, long as the Scriptures shall 
 endure, piety shall turn with fondness to thy story; 
 find the tear which she drops over thy affecting end, 
 will spring, not less from admiration, than from grief! 
 
 But, from admiring the concern of Kli for the Ark 
 that was in Shiloh, let us be led to consider, in what 
 ways we may contribiUc to the reputation, and pros- 
 perity of the Ark of the better covenant; " the Gospel 
 of our salvation." 
 
 And, in the first place, we should not disguise our 
 belief, in the religion of our Lord. Too easily does 
 pride, a dread of the ridicule of tiic i)rofane, or a coin- 
 cidence with the current of the world's opinions, 
 deter the disciples of the Redeemer from avowing 
 their attachment to him, and their dependence upon 
 his word, for their best principles, and their dearest 
 hopes. Not so were his first followers; nor so should 
 we be, if we felt, as we ought, the value of the Ark of 
 the covenant of his mercies, and were sufficiently con- 
 cerned for its safety and honour. Would we advance 
 the iiuerests of our Saviour's kingdom? Let us be 
 seen in the ranks of his friends, antl, as an inspired 
 Apostle exhorts, " Go forth to him without the camp, 
 bearing his reproach." 
 
 Again. We may promote both the lionour and pros- 
 perity of our religion by upholding its institutions, and 
 observing, devoutly, its sacred riles. Consecrated in 
 great mercy to the human race, was the holy Sabbath, 
 and it is, unquestionably, one of the most invaluable 
 means for keeping alive, in men's bosoms, a fear of 
 God, and a sense of their relations and duties to him, 
 and to each other. The Redeemer, too, hath insti- 
 tuted his Church, and established the divers orders of 
 ministry in it, not only for " the perfecting of the
 
 400 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 
 
 saints," but for the gathering together in one, the off- 
 spring of God. The ordinances, also, of the Gospel, 
 Baptism, and the Lord's Supper, are admirably adapt- 
 ed to preserve its peculiar doctrines, in remembrance 
 and respect, and to manifest the purity, simplicity, and 
 holiness of the services, ^vhicii it requires. These 
 institutions, are as banners uliich the Saviour hath 
 furnished for his Church, and around them, his friends 
 should be found, if they would magnify his name, and 
 promote the respectability of his religion. 
 
 Again. You may contribute to the safety, and hon- 
 our of the Ark of God, by instructing your offspring 
 in its origin, its value, and its uses, and training them 
 up to respect and defend it. Shortly, you must leave 
 this scene, and, wkh the rest of your possessions, 
 leave the religion of your fathers to your posterity. 
 Solemn and affecting is this tonsideration I It is the 
 best gift of heaven to our Avorld, and its welfare in 
 succeeding generations, may, in some degree, depend 
 upon you. Great, therefore, is your obligation, to 
 enlist your offspring under its banners: for if they be 
 brought up " in the nurture and admonition of the 
 Lord," there is a reasonable probability, that their 
 lives will hereafter be its encomium, and their princi- 
 ples its defence. 
 
 Further. We may contribute to the success of 
 Christianity, by thwarting the course of its adversaries, 
 and counteracting the poisons prepared against it. 
 There are books, the vehicles of impious soi)histry, of 
 debased wit, and of blasphemous philosophy. From 
 the contagion which these diffuse, the good man will 
 endeavour to preserve his household, and to suppress 
 their reputation and iniluence. There are men, of 
 ruinous opinions upon man's nature, duties, and des- 
 tiny, whom he will feel it his duty to discountenance, 
 as equally unworthy of public trust, and private appro- 
 bation. There are friendships with the vicious and 
 profane, fatal as a firebrand taken into the bosom*
 
 SOLICITDDE FOR RELIGION. 401 
 
 From these, he will withliold himself, and endeavour, 
 to preserve those whom God has i)laced under his 
 guardianship and authority. Unwilling to have the 
 distinction between rii:;ht and wrong, between virtue 
 and vice, between the commandments of God, and the 
 opinions of men, obliterated, he will reprobate irreli- 
 gion in whatever character or form it appears; remem- 
 berins the declaration of the last messenger from the 
 Most High to men, " lie that is not with me, is against 
 me." 
 
 Once more. By his personal exertions for the ad- 
 vancement of those arrangements which are necessary, 
 to give stability and respectability to the institutions of 
 religion in any i)lacc, every Christian may promote the 
 lionour and influence of Christianity among men. It 
 is necessary to the success of the Gosjk'1, that its rites 
 be celebrated, its trutii preached, and its i)rofessors 
 assembled together, to recognize often in social wor- 
 shij), their relation to the Head of the Ciiurch, and to 
 each other. Where these things are neglected, pure 
 and efficacious religion must decline. Its substance 
 will be gone, and, if any thing of it be retained, it will 
 be only the shadow. IJut to give to these means of 
 religious proficiency, a constant and respectable being, 
 there is requisite, good counsel, pecuniary aid, and per- 
 sonal exertions. Not to the ministers of religion alone, 
 belongs this care. In the nature of it, it may, and 
 should be, shared b}' all the members of the commu- 
 nity. And the good man, who is anxious for the Ark 
 of God, will not feel his conscience discharged of one 
 of its most weighty obligations, till he has done. what- 
 ever he can, towards the complete establishment of the 
 public services of the Church, in the place where the 
 Most High has placed his residence.* The sublime 
 spirit will animate him, which David felt when he 
 resolved, " 1 will not come into the tabernacle of mine 
 
 * This Discourse was preached iti some of the vacant Parishes. 
 VOL. II. 51
 
 402 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 
 
 house, nor climb up into my bed ; I will not sufler 
 mine eyes to sleep, nor mine eyelids to slumber; nei- 
 ther the temples of my head to take any rest, until I 
 find out a temple for the Lord, an habitation for the 
 mighty God of Jacob." 
 
 Finally. It is above all to be observed, that every 
 Christian may promote the honour of his religion, by 
 exhibiting to the world, in its purity and integrity, the 
 lustre of a Christian life. Powerful is the charm of 
 piety, of benevolence, of meekness, of equity, like that 
 which the Gospel requires. Seen in the lives of men, 
 the spirit and virtues of Christianity, form one of its 
 highest commendations. On account of the force of a 
 pure. Christian, example, in commending the path of 
 religion to men, its blessed Author left to his followers 
 the impressive injunction, to "let their liu;hts so shine 
 before men, that they mny see their good Avorks, and 
 glorify their Father in heaven."
 
 SERMON LXXXHL 
 
 — Qi©0— 
 
 ©N FAMILY WORSHIP. 
 
 Job, i. 5 
 
 And it was so, when the days of their feasting were 
 gone aboiU, that Job sent and sanctified them, and 
 rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt of- 
 ferings according to the number of them all; for 
 Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and 
 cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continu- 
 ally. 
 
 F the person here spoken of it is recorded, by the 
 Spirit of God, that he was " a perfect man." And in 
 nothing which we know of him, is his excellence more 
 interesting, than in the picture of it which these words 
 exhibit. " There were born unto Job, seven sons and 
 three daughters." It is in the height of prosperity and 
 happiness, that he and his family, in the beginning of
 
 404 ON FAMILY A\URSIin'- 
 
 this book, are presented to our view. They lived in 
 the enjoyment of the delights of life; happy in their 
 abundance, and blessed with a felicity of domestic 
 intercourse, which has rarely, if ever, been exceeded. 
 " And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every 
 one his day; and sent and called for their three sisters, 
 to eat and to drink with them."' It is in the midst of 
 this cheerful and prosperous life, that the father of the 
 family recollects liieir dependence upon Ciod, for all 
 their blessings; and that in the lapse of the day, his 
 children may have sinned, and, assembling them toge- 
 ther, presents them before God, to supplicate, in pro- 
 l)er acts of devotion, forgiveness, and a continuance of 
 his mercies. " And it was so, when the days of their 
 feasting were gone about, tiiat .lob sent and sanctified 
 them, and rose ui) early in the morning, and olfered 
 burnt ofl'erings according to the number of them all; 
 for Job said. It may be that my sons have siimed, and 
 cursed (jod in their hearts. Thus did Job continual- 
 ly." And is there a parent, who has not reason, every 
 evening, to fear that his chihlren may have sinned? 
 Is there a household, who have not occasion, every 
 morning, to acknowledge, and to seek the mercy of 
 God? Picture to yourselves this holy man, gathering, 
 statedly, his family around him, to sanctify them with 
 devotion, and (Miiiage them, ^vith himself, in ollering 
 homage and adoration to their gracious JJcnefactor, 
 and you may Avonder, that Family Worship, .so inte- 
 resting, so lovely, is so generally neglected. Picture 
 to yourselves, the pleasures and the benefits which 
 must have redounded to this household, from this 
 l)ious care of their head, and you may wonder, that 
 every parent does not do thus; that he does not thus 
 do, " continually." 
 
 I have brought this picture to your notice, brethren, 
 to engage your atrention to a discourse upon Family 
 Worshii); a business which is, too certainly, neglected 
 among us. more than it ought to be; and with the
 
 ON FAMILY WORSHIP. 405 
 
 performance of which, are undoubtedly connected 
 peculiar, and very great advantages. Were that atten- 
 tion to it restored, which has been a prominent feature 
 in the character of every pious age, and pious people, 
 it u ouhl strengthen your Ciuirch, and bless your fami- 
 lies; and you would have a larger experience of the 
 peace which they have, who love God's law. It is in 
 the desire, and I would I could say, the hope of this, 
 that I would set before you some of the considerations, 
 which recommend Family Worship to your obser- 
 vance, and olTer to you, some directions, for the most 
 pleasant and useful i)erformance of it. 
 
 I am fust to set before you, considerations which 
 recommend Family Worshij), and these shall be drawn 
 from its respect to the Deity; from its eflect upon 
 families in their collective cai)acity; and from its uses 
 to individnals who comjjose them. 
 
 With respect to the Deity, it is due to him, and it is 
 pleasant to him. Man, is to worship his INIaker, in all 
 the capacities and relations in which his Maker |)laces 
 liim. As an individual, he offers to linu his i)rivate 
 devotions. Comnumities, as such, bring to him, in 
 public worship, their gratitude and their jtrayers. And 
 families, living under the same roof, affected by the 
 iiins, interested in the wants, and blessed in the felici- 
 ties of each other, owe a family sacrifice to the God 
 of mercy, and giver of their common safety and joys. 
 If any where, Aliuighiy God may come, expecting, 
 justly, a social homage from his chikUen, it is to our 
 houses in the morning; when, while the shades of 
 night encompassed our dwellings, and our strength and 
 pouers were lost in the helplessness of sleep, we 
 bavu been protected by him, and refreshed amidst, we 
 know not hou- many unseen dangers, and have risen; 
 while many have sunk into that dread slecj), from 
 which they shall not awake till the heavens are no 
 more; have risen in safety to the light and beauties, 
 the hoi'cs and joys, of a new day. Tf anv where.
 
 406 ON FAMILY WORSHIP. 
 
 Almighty God may come, expecting, justly, a joint 
 expression of gratitude, and social supplications from 
 his children, it is to our houses in the evening; when 
 we have been fed together, by his hand, at our meals, 
 and conducted by his providence through the exposures 
 of the day; while many come not to their house any 
 more, are gathered again in health to the sweet plea- 
 sures of home, and are about to resign in the arms of 
 unavoidable slumber, all power, amidst the dangers of 
 night, to V)rotect or help ourselves or each other. 
 Surely, it is strange, that to the guest who tarrieth but 
 a night, families shoulil be anxious to olTer, morning 
 and evening, the salutations of courteousness, and suf- 
 fer the God who is with them, to greet them when 
 they rise, and bless them when they retire, without 
 receiving irom them any expression of regard! 
 
 Will it be said, God has no need of such servicer 
 We have every reason to believe, that this duty is 
 peculiarly pleasant and accejitable to him. It was 
 from Abraham he resolved he would not hide any 
 thing he would do, because he knew the Patriarch, 
 that " he woidd command his children, and his house- 
 hold after them, that they should keep the way of the 
 Lord." It was Josliua, highly favoured of the Lord, 
 who has transmitted to jjosterity the celebrated resolu- 
 tion, "as for me and my house, we will serve the 
 Lord." It was to Noah, when lu* had gathered his 
 family by an altar, to offer a sacrifice after their pre- 
 servation from the flood, that he gave the bow to be a 
 token of a covenant of mercy, between him and them. 
 placing it upon the clouds w hich covered ihem. Cor- 
 nelius, the liisi of the Gentiles to whom was given 
 salvation through Jesus Christ, was " a devout man, 
 and one that feared God, with all his house; praying 
 to God always." And it was of him, w hom we see 
 in the text, gathering his family, statedly, to acts of 
 Family Worshii), that the Almighty said lo the malig- 
 nant accuser of the Jiuman race. *' Hast ihoii consider-
 
 ON FAxMILY WORSHIP. 40? 
 
 ed my servant Job, tliat there is none like him in the 
 earth, a perft'ct, and an upright man, one tliat feareth 
 God, and escheweth evil :" His pleasure in this duty 
 hath, indeed, been generally manifested towards those 
 who perform it. " The curse of the Lord is in the 
 house of the wicked; but he blcsseth the habitation of 
 tlie just." And, surely, they cannot be called just, 
 who withhold from the chief claimant, that which, 
 upon every princii)le, is his due. 
 
 But, ojir heavenly T atiuM- hath not left our duty to 
 him, unconnected \^itli benefit to ourselves. Let us 
 proceed to consider, the effects of Family Worship 
 u|)on the families, in which it is performed. It is 
 favourable to fiood order. The very recurrence of 
 joint attention, at stated times, to a business of serious 
 character, is calculated to give a character of regularity 
 to a household ; and when in the performance of that 
 business all are brought at the beginning, and close of 
 the day, into the presence of Ciod, it may be expected, 
 that this will be promotive of that fidelity in all, in the 
 discharge of their resjjrctivc dufies, by means of whicii, 
 the prosperity and hapi)iuess of a family, are most 
 eflfectually secured. 
 
 It is calculated to promote and preserve amity, and 
 kind offices, in a family, 'i'he oftener mankind ar« 
 brought together, before their common Parent, the 
 fonder, and more tender, (hey \\\\\ be of each other, 
 and the spirit which is imbibed by a joint communion 
 with him, is a spirit of love, and good will, to one 
 another. Would not the anger of the father towards 
 the son, be mitigated; would not the asperity of the 
 brother towards the brother, be softened ; would not 
 the sullenness of the servant towards his master, be 
 corrected, if all were brought, every morning and 
 evening, into the iireser.ce of (lod, to confess their sins, 
 and n^cognize before him, in the spirit of humility and 
 love, their duties to him, and to one another?
 
 408 ON FAMILY WORSHIl'. 
 
 But, it would also benefit families, by brin^in^ upon 
 them the blessing of heaven. Great efficacy is ascribed 
 to prayer, in the sacred volume; especially to the 
 prayers of " two or three" associated for the purpose. 
 How largely, then, may the dews of heaven be ex- 
 pected to descend upon the families, in which prayer is 
 made unto him constantly and with one accord, and he 
 is daily praised. " The voice of Joy and health," says 
 the Psalmist, " is in the dwellings of tlu^ righteous." 
 And it is strikingly observed by the pious liishop Wil- 
 son, that " ignorance, profanencss, and a curse, must 
 of necessity be in that family, where, not a creature, 
 but is taken care of; not a swine but shall be served 
 twice a day, and God, only, is forgotten!" 
 
 But this duty will appear still more important and 
 beneficial, if we advert to its uses to the individuals, 
 of whom families are generally com[)osed. And first, 
 with regard to the pious part of them, it affords, next 
 to the worship of the saiutuaiy, the most convenient, 
 and unexcei)tionable opportunity, for that sociality in 
 devotion, which minds, seriously impressed, do very 
 naturally and strongly desire. Some seek this oppor- 
 tunity in conferences ; and some in special meetings 
 for i)rayer. Ijiit, it may be questioned, \\ hethcr the 
 good effects of these tiju)!! the community, or individu- 
 als, would be equal to the effects of a performance, in 
 every house, of family prayers. 
 
 But you will say, all the member> of the family are 
 not religious. For those who are otherwise, family 
 prayer may have the^ most beneficial ojteration. You 
 liave a son-, his religious principles are not settled; he 
 has been abroad amidst the gaities and vices of this 
 evil world. It may be, he " liath sinned, and cursed 
 Ciod in his heart." How important, how interesting, 
 that you offer sacrifices for him, to the Lord your God. 
 Are there any in your house, yet uninstructed in reli- 
 gion; any, who are volatile in their minds; any, who 
 have unhappy dispositions, or evil propensities in fluir
 
 ON FAMILY WORSHIP. 
 
 409 
 
 iiearts or lives? The constant performance of this 
 duty, is calculated to diffuse amoni; them, reli^^ious 
 principles and feelings; to check inordinate volatility, 
 and produce becoming seriousness; and hy its gentle 
 influence, to correct the bad dispositions, and restrain 
 the conduct of the wicked, and the unhai)py. Wiiile 
 its tendency is to render the parent considerate, and 
 the child dutiful ; to promote the unity of the husband 
 and wife; to make masters kind, and servants sober 
 and faithful. It promises, also, a more distant good. 
 The individual, who has grown up in rh»' h^bir of 
 family worship, will be most likely, when he, him:!>elf, 
 Jias a household, to establish this |)raciice in th<' midst 
 of them, and thus, this duty would be the means of 
 transmitting to posterity, the blessings of religion. It 
 may be, that upon some, in the ungovernable years of 
 life, the cfticacy of Family Worship may not hv imme- 
 diately i)erceived; but when the gay season has elaps- 
 ed, the passions have cooled, and the weeds of corrupt 
 nature have withered with the season that produced 
 them, the iulluence of the scenes by tlie domestic ahar, 
 will remain; and the principles and feelings which 
 were there hallowed, will be recollected and cherished, 
 like the counsels of the paternal lip, when tiie inclina- 
 tions and i)racticcs which thwarted them, will be re- 
 membered with regret. 
 
 This duty may be recommended, in the last place, 
 by a consideration drawn from its iulluence upon the 
 community at large. We are told, that " the angels of 
 God encamp about the dwellings of the just." W^ere 
 these encampments of the hosts of God multiplieil in 
 a land; did companies of angels surround every habi- 
 tation, by reason of the altar and piety therein, what a 
 force would they constitute against the approach of 
 evil ; what powerful protectors of health, and peace 
 and joy! Let every private home be a temple; from 
 every dwelling let there arise incense to heaven, morn- 
 ing and evening; and of the happiness of that people, 
 
 VOL. rr; .52
 
 410 4)IV FAMITA' WORSHIP. 
 
 who have "the Lord for their God," our country would 
 largely partake. These daily sacrifices, would be re- 
 turned to us by Him, to whom they were ofi'ered, that 
 we might feast upon them, and live by them ; and they 
 would be means of bringing, not only upon the indivi- 
 dual, not only upon the family, but also upon the com- 
 munity, a participation of all the fruits of that great 
 sacrifice, " which taketh away the sins of the world," 
 
 My Christian friends, you see how weighty, how 
 affecting are the considerations, that recommend Fam- 
 ily Worship. Forgive me, that I have said so much 
 upon this neglected duty. Is it good, is it right, is it 
 useful? What remains, but to resolve, that a duty 
 which is so good, and useful, you will immediately be- 
 gin to perform. 
 
 In performing it, allow me to reconimeiul, that a 
 form of prayer be used, as best calculated for all the 
 purposes of social worship. You have in the Prayer 
 Book, a form at hand: and if variety be wished, by 
 selecting from that Book, the Collects for repentance, 
 and faith, and charity, for grace, and peace, the prayer 
 for all conditions of men, and the thanksgiving, ^^ ith 
 the Lord's Prayer, you may furnish yourselves with 
 sacrifices, with which the members of your families are 
 familiarly acquainted, and they, with you, will easily 
 offer them together.
 
 SERMON LXXXIV. 
 
 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL- 
 
 St. Lues, x. 42. 
 
 But one thing is needful. 
 
 HEN we consider the various ways, and nume- 
 rous objects, in which men seek felicity, it hardly 
 seems conceivable, that all which is necessary to the 
 true end, and happiness of life, is to be found in one 
 definite pursuit. To do what shall become our nature, 
 secure our interests, and please our God; to attain 
 what shall answer the true purpose of our creation, 
 and yield us peace and permanent satisfation, these 
 are momentous concerns ; and, surely, the truth is sur- 
 prising, and little regarded, that in one single point, 
 they all concentrate, that on one distinct object, they
 
 412 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 all depend. Yet, this truth is declared by the great 
 founder of our faith; and we have the record of his 
 declaration, in the passage which I have selected for 
 my text: " But one thing is needful." 
 
 To the occasion and import of these words, permit 
 me, my brethren, to invite your attention; and to the 
 instructive lessons conveyed, in the narrative of which 
 they are an interesting part. 
 
 There dwelt at Bethany, a very amiable family, 
 whose virtues attracted to them the fondness, and fre- 
 quent visits of our blessed Lord. Jesus loved Martha, 
 and her sister, and Lazarus. In the society of this atfec- 
 tionate and benevolent family, he loved to pass an hour 
 of retirement; and to their honest minds, unfolded the 
 overtures of salvation, which he brought from heaven, 
 and the bright pros|)ects of eternal life and joy. It ha|i- 
 pened, during one of his visits to them, that the diller- 
 ent characters of the sisters were strikingly displayed. 
 In Martha, the elder, \\c bi'hold a busy, generous, 
 careful, person, who was filled with anxieties about 
 the affairs of the household, and on this occasion, was 
 entirely absorbed in making preparations for the hospi- 
 table entertainment of her guests. In Mary, we dis- 
 cover an even, contemplative, docile mind, which 
 wished for no other gratification, than to sit at the feet 
 of the celestial Inslructor, and hear his words. They 
 both were pious and virtuous persons; both hapi)y in 
 the friendship, and presence of the .Saviour; and each 
 of their characters had, undoubtedl), its peculiar ex- 
 cellence. But, the solicitude of Martha's disposition, 
 made her often the prey of unnecessary restlessness 
 and care; it rendered the object, too, on which she 
 was intent, however commendable in itself, painful to 
 her friends, by reason of the trouble it occasioned her; 
 and it was this uneasy, innnoderate anxiety about 
 things vain anil transitory, that the Saviour repre- 
 hended. Filled with concern about the entertainment 
 of her guest; busily absorbed in the desire richly to
 
 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 41S 
 
 refresh, and handsomely to serve them, she complained 
 to Jesus of Mary's abiding at his feet, and neiilecting 
 to take part in doing to him the honours of the house. 
 " Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me 
 to serve alone ? Bid her that she help me." To him, 
 A\ ho li::htly regarded the pleasures of the senses, who 
 knew how to value the ceremonious complaisance of 
 the world, and who found his best gratification in 
 leading the docih^ to truth, and to goodness, this was 
 an ill-judged compliment, and occasioned a tender 
 reproof. " Martha, INIartha," said he, with aflection- 
 ate I arnestness, repeating the name, " Martha, Martha, 
 thou art careful and troubled about many things; but 
 one thing is neidtui; and Mary hath chosen that good 
 part, which shall not be taken away from her." 
 
 " But one thing is needful." A serious, impressive 
 declaration ! And we hasten from the occasion of it, 
 to consider its im|)ort. Kvidently the Saviour asserts, 
 that there is "one thing," essential to the end, and 
 welfare of every man's life; upon which he should 
 bestow his chief solicitude; in which lie should seek 
 his proper happiness. What is this thing, this all im- 
 portant object? Let us look among the many things, 
 about which men "are careful and troubled;" and 
 see, if we can find it among them. 
 
 In one path of human life, we observe many assem- 
 bled, who arc all anxious to gain the eminences of 
 power, or to attract the notice of fame by the way. 
 They strive amidst difficulties, competitions, and foes; 
 and some (ew, obtain the object of the struggle. But 
 is this the object to ^^ hich the Saviour points? Is the 
 gratification of ambition, the "one thing needful?" 
 By the constitution of things, distinction can be the 
 lot of but few; and, therefore, could never have ap- 
 peared to the divine mind, necessary to all. Besides, 
 liow uncertain is the fate of the ambitious! "One 
 Caesar lives, a thousand are forgot." How unsatisfac- 
 tory are his delights! The insignia of power, dazzle the
 
 414 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 proud eye ; the notes of fame's trumpet, feed the vain 
 ear; but neither satisfy the heart. At best, how short 
 is the use of his pomp to the i»o\verful, or of his name 
 to the renowned! Read this, in the dust of the great 
 of former times, tlie memory of wliose eminence serves 
 only to enforce, with a i)athos tliat melts and humbles 
 us, the sacred admonition, " let not the mighty man 
 glory in his might." Great benefit undoubtedly ac- 
 crues to society, from the gradation of its mcnibers; 
 and for the general good, there must be some elevated 
 to lofty stations. But they who, in these eminences, 
 seek their chief felicity, pursue a bubble, lustrous in- 
 deed, and of rich colours, when first blown, but thui as 
 air; dependent on the ever variable wind; and oft- 
 times bursting and vanishing, without leaving a frag- 
 ment, or trace of what it once was. And to beings 
 formed for high behests, capacitated for real and lasting 
 joys, can such a bubble be the '* one thing needful ?" 
 
 Turn we, then, to another path of human life. 
 Here, in a broad and lively road, are multitudes 
 thronging after pleasure. She holds out to them, a 
 sparkling cup; she opens before them, gardens of de- 
 light; and they follow her under the action of her 
 fascinating spells, fondly llattcring themselves, that 
 they have found all that is necessary to the true end, 
 and happiness of life. But, alas I they drink of her 
 cup, become intoxicated, and forget their nature, their 
 powers, and their destination. They relax in her 
 gardens; and from innumerable coverts, vexations and 
 miseries surprise them. They are hurried by age, or 
 calamity, from their sports, and joys; and in their re- 
 treat, carry but an empty cup, or bitter, bitter dregs. 
 Is it, then, the chief business of life, to gratify our 
 senses, to take our ease, and to roll on in pleasure's 
 varying whirl? Is the "one thing needful," that 
 thoughtless gaiety, in the midst of which the heart is 
 sorrowful; or that prodigal mirth, whose end is heavi- 
 ness? Surely, that which shall he worthy of our 
 
 I
 
 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 415 
 
 nature, and satisfy our desires, must be pure, substan- 
 tial, and permanent; qualities, which the boons of 
 temporal pleasure, do none of them possess. 
 
 But there is another path, narrow, steep, and re- 
 tired, in which the travellers have a more composed 
 aspect. This is the path of science. Knowledge is 
 the object of those who frequent it; and for their 
 object, though silently, they laboriously toil. For 
 them the morn diffuses its earliest beams; and the 
 midnight lamp sheds its expiring rays. With arduous 
 application, they pursue truth in its deep recesses; and 
 to the attainment of it, devote their time and labour, 
 their talents, and all their care. But is this the path 
 to which the Saviour points? Is the object they arc 
 seeking, the " one thing needful?" Useful, indeed, to 
 mankind, and delightful to themselves, are the occupa- 
 tions of the studious. INIuch, ye sons of science, arc 
 wo indebted to you, for the exaltation ye have given to 
 our nature; and the conveniences, refinements, and 
 elevated delights, with which your labours have en- 
 riciied life. But, human knowledge neither does, nor 
 can, set open a fountaii), in which man may wash from 
 sin and uncleanness; nor hold out a lamp, by which 
 he may be cheered as he journeys to the tomb, and 
 conduct his steps in safety and peace. ^Vithout these, 
 wisdom is vain; and understanding but an increase of 
 sorrow. As the chief good of life, even science can- 
 not maintain its strong pretensions to our regard. 
 They, who long and assiduously i)ursue it, how little 
 do they know; and even this little knowledge which 
 they have in part, it shall vanish away. The wisdom, 
 too, which they have acquired, with the utmost dili- 
 gence, it cannot defend them from the calamities of 
 their nature, nor discharge the awful debt with 
 which it is encumbered. " There is no remembrance 
 of the wise, more than of the fool for ever; seeing 
 that which now is, in the days to come shall all be
 
 416 0^'E THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? As the 
 fool." 
 
 From these several paths, we turn to one of more 
 general resort. It is wide and crowded; and from 
 the zeal and industry of those, whom we behold in its 
 different parts, it would be natural to conclude, that 
 here has, unquestionably, been found the essential 
 business, and happiness of life. The object of jmrsuit 
 here, is wealth. By an uncontrollable monopoly, this 
 engages the attention and labour, of the greatest part 
 of mankind; and not Martha herself, in all the hurry and 
 anxiety of her nature, is more " careful and troubled'' 
 about entertaining her Redeemer, than the votaries of 
 fortune, about the success of their schemes, and increase 
 of their property. Are riches, then, the " one thing 
 needful?" It would be foolish, and false, to assert 
 that riches, honestly accpiired, are not a blessing to 
 virtuous characters. But their claim to the chief de- 
 sire, and first pursuit of men, must be tried by their 
 sufficiency to procure happiness, their power to ward 
 off the calamities of life, and their stability, or per- 
 manence. If in these points they are deficient, they 
 cannot be the proper objects of mairs chief regard. 
 Now can wealth give regularity, contentment, and 
 peace to the bosom, or bring to the soul, pardon, pu- 
 rity, and the hope of eternal life? Can it keep at a 
 distance, adversity, or vexation, or sorrow, or death - 
 Can it promise its possessor to remain wlih him a day, 
 and will it accompany him for his service, in the future 
 states of his existence.^ In the hright mid-day of 
 abundance^ a cloud may arise to darken his prospects: 
 or a little root of bitterness in his bosom, may blight 
 all his joys. He may grow indifferent to the gratifi- 
 cation which wealth procures, as soon as he is accus- 
 tomed to them, and in the mansion of splendour, upon 
 the bed of down, may pine a wretch, and die accursed. 
 What, then, are the claims of this infatuating ol)ject, 
 about the jiossession of w liich, mankind in general arr
 
 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 417 
 
 SO "careful and troubled!" That, certainly, cannot 
 be the " one thins needful," which a man may possess, 
 and be, at tlie same time, miserable and worthless. 
 
 But, if in the paths of ambition, pleasure, science, 
 and wealth, which contain the principal objects of hu- 
 man pursuit, the "one thins; needful" may not be 
 found, what, and where, is the great object to which 
 our Lord alludes? We have his own comment upon 
 his declaration, which will, at once, lead us to the true 
 import of the words. " IJut one thins is needful; and 
 Mary hath chosen that good |)art, which shall not be 
 taken away from lier." The part she had chosen was, 
 to hearken unto Christ; and to learn of him, how to 
 regulate properly her present life, and secure to herself 
 a resurrection from the ^ravc, to future and endless 
 felicity. To this, she gave her principal care. This, 
 was her commended choice. And from the connec- 
 tion of her praise with the text, we may safely con- 
 clude, that religion, or an attention to the means of 
 passing life here, conformably with the will of our 
 Creator; and of securing his favojir, and an entrance 
 into his heavenly kingdom, is the great thing to which 
 the Saviour points, as the most interesting concern of 
 every sojourner upon earth, and source of his proper 
 hap|)iness. 
 
 The necessity, and pre-eminent importance of this 
 object, will be (jvidcnt, if we consider, to what it re- 
 lates; how great the interest it involves. It resi)ects 
 the soul, the better and immortal part of man; it re- 
 spects its hapi)iness for eternity. What words can 
 express the magnitude and weight of this considera- 
 tion? Is it, indeed, true, my hearers, that these bodies 
 are inhabited by spirits of divine origin, by which we 
 think, and feel, and are raised to our high station in 
 the scale of being? Is it, indeed, true, that these 
 spirits do not die, but are destined to exist for ever? 
 Is it, indeed, true, that after these bodies shall have 
 slept their sleep, these spirits in reunion, each v.ith its 
 
 VOL. n. 53
 
 418 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 
 
 own, shall have come forth, " they that have done 
 good, unto the resurrection of life, and they that have 
 done evil, unto the resurrection of condemnation r"* 
 These things, the spirit within us sugg(^ts, and the 
 revelation which Cod hath heen graciously jileased to 
 give us, most certainly declares. What, then, can 
 have such claim to our first attention, or be so abso- 
 lutely needful to our safety and peace, as the things 
 which involve our faith and duty here, and our happi- 
 ness for ever. What, ccm|Kued with tliese interests 
 of the soul, are all the concerns of this fleeting exist- 
 ence? The acquisitions and pleasures of life, shall 
 presently have an end. This glol)e itself, shall be dis- 
 solved. The fires of yon sun, shall be extinguished; 
 "and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll," 
 and i)ass nwny. But the soul shall survive them all; 
 find its happiiM'ss, for ages \\ illiout end, tlepends upon 
 the princii)lcs we embrace, and the course we pursue. 
 What, then, can ambiiion, i>l(>asure, science, or wealth 
 produce, in competition with objects, whose value can 
 be measured only by our love of happiness, and the 
 extent of tlieir importance by the duration of eternity ? 
 Again. An attention to the means of living ri^iitly 
 jiere, and being raised from tieath to [)ardon, and eter- 
 nal life, is pre-eminently needful, because, without it, 
 no man can Ix' imiforndy ami permanently hai)py. 
 Strike from the; human miutl, all thai religion unlolils 
 and enjoins, and man wanders through life, like an 
 anxious traveller in an unknown u ild ; yields to adver- 
 sity, like the uptorn tree to the blast; laughs in his 
 vices, like the madman in his chains; and dies like 
 the brute into utter extinction. But with iiis inquisi- 
 tiveness, to be perjikxcd about his very being; amidst 
 the troubles and calamities of life, to have no shelter 
 nor prop; with his nature, callable of glorious moral 
 attainments, to be enslaved to vice; and with his long- 
 ing after immortality, to sink without comfort or ho|)e, 
 into eternal death, what situation can be more income
 
 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 41^ 
 
 patible with happiness! He must sigh over his coii- 
 ditioji, whenever it presents itself to his considerate 
 view. Dissatisfaction, if not wretchedness, must op- 
 press his spirit, in whatever path he pursues his un- 
 meaning way. To guide his steps, to sooth his sor- 
 rows, to dispel his fears, and to unbar to him the 
 portals of heaven, is exclusively religion's office; and 
 for this oftice, as she descends in the mild form of the 
 Ciospei, she is divinely consecrated, and adequately 
 endowed. I,et Imt h«M' truths he studied, and life is 
 no longer an inexi)lical)le maze. Let her consolations 
 be used, and the weary spirit, fainting under the tribu- 
 lations and i)erplexities of its |)ilgrimage, is refreshed. 
 liCt her guidance be followed, and the soul recovers 
 the image of its Creator, and with it the consciousness 
 of his peace and favour. Let her promises be be- 
 lieved, and immortality, like the reflected beams of a 
 sun beyond the horizon, gilds with mild grandeur life's 
 evening clouds, and beautifies the approach of night. 
 
 1 will only add, that this care of our spiritual, and 
 eternal interests, is important before all things, because 
 it is this to which all tiie dispensations of God have 
 reference, and in which alone, his gracious will con- 
 cerning us, can be accomi)lishcd. For what, before 
 the foundation of the world, was Jehovaii employed 
 iu devising the scheme of government, which he would 
 administer over our race? For what, are the wonders 
 of visible nature displayed to our view, and we fur^ 
 nished with powers and incitements to look through 
 them to their God? For what, *' at sundry times, and 
 in divers manners, hath the Almighty spoken in times- 
 past to the fathers, by the Prophets; and in these latter 
 days to us by his Son ?"' For what, hath his hand 
 been discerned in all ages, conducting the motions of a 
 stupendous apparatus, which introduces and explains 
 a revelation, to which, with the voice of parental anx- 
 iety, he summons the attention of the children of menr 
 For what, hath the Son of God been incarnate, and
 
 420 ONE THmc NEEDFUL. 
 
 crucified, and raised from the dead, and set forth as 
 the Lord of the dead and tlie living? For what, hath 
 his gos|)el heen promulgated to the world, and his 
 Church instituted, and furnished hy him with a minis- 
 try, and ordinances, and holy Sabbaths? For what, 
 are we called to the knowledge of God's grace and 
 faitli in him, and put in possession of the oracles of 
 truth ? For what, arc his dispensations to us indi- 
 vidually intended, in the various forms which ho sees 
 fit to give them? For what, especially, are nfllictions 
 and sorrows allotted us, and our lives embittered with 
 chastisements from our Father's hand? All, all hath 
 reference to our salvation, and spiritual imi)rovement. 
 The righteousness, and everlaj>ting happiness of men, 
 are the ends to which the gracious, and mysterious 
 economy of God towards this world, is designed to 
 promote. The general, and stupendous acts of his 
 government, and the particular events, which his pro- 
 vidence ordains, all arc intended to manifest the " onu 
 thing needful," and to e.vcite, and enable us to make 
 it sure. And, surely, that, about w hicli the Almighty 
 God hath vouchsafed thus to interest himself, that upon 
 which he hath bestowed his counsels and care, and to 
 which he, in so many ways, |)resses our attention, must 
 be the chief, and all-important concern of our being. 
 If our business, interest, and happiness, arc; to be con- 
 sidered as intimated by the purposes of God, our prin 
 cipal care sliould be, to place ourselves at the feet ol 
 his Son Jesus Christ, that we may learn to live accord- 
 ing to the divine will, ^^hilc we sojourn here, and make 
 our election to eternal life sure. 
 
 And now, are there any hearing me, who, like Mar- 
 tha, suffer the business and cares of this life to absorb 
 their attention ? Let them share w ith her, the Re- 
 deemer's reproof. Let them learn from him, that to 
 be "careful and troubled" about many of the concerns 
 of this transitory state, is to create to themselves unne- 
 cessary uneasiness; perhaps, too, at the expense of
 
 ONE THING NEEDFUL. 421 
 
 better objects, and durable joys. Let them observe 
 his finger, pointing them, with unspeakable affection, 
 to his salvation, as the " one thing needful;" and pon- 
 der his intimation, that, having this, they will possess 
 all things. Sufficient for their solicitude, is the care 
 of their souls; and a knowledge that they are safe, 
 through the Redemption that is in Christ Jesus, can 
 alone give peace and satisfaction to their bosoms. 
 
 To those, and 1 doubt not there are many such here 
 present, who, like Mary, have chosen it as the object of 
 their fnsl desire, to be taught of Christ, and to be sin- 
 cere, and without offence, unto the day of his coming, 
 what confirmation is the Scripture we have been con- 
 temjjjaring. calculated to afford. Let it encourage you, 
 Christians, in your cause. It is a good part you have 
 chosen; good in itself, good in its influence upon life, 
 good in the estimation of the Most High God, your 
 Creator, and good, in consequences of infmite and 
 eternal importance. While perishableness is written 
 upon every earthly object, and calamity, and time, 
 and death take away the things, on which others 
 rely; the part you have ciiosen, the Almighty is enga- 
 ged to upiiold; and the declaration of his voice to the 
 meek and constant, the devout and docile Jewess, is a 
 pledge, also, to you, that it shall never be taken away 
 from vou.
 
 SERIVTON LXXXV. 
 
 -«o^- 
 
 THE KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 LuKK, xiii. 18, 19. 
 
 Then said he, Unto what is the kinsilom of God iikt: 
 and u'hercunto shall I rcsrmhlc it ^ It is like a i^niin 
 of mustard seed, whieh a man took and ea,st into his 
 garden; and it grew, and waxed a great tree; and 
 the fowls of the air lodged in the branches of it. 
 
 JL HE kingdom of God, is an expression of various 
 significations in the sacred volume. Sometimes is 
 meant by it, the universal dominion of Deity; some- 
 times, the final blessedness to uhich the saints are, 
 heirs; and, in a more confined sense, it fre(|uently sig- 
 nifies, the Gospel state, or Church of Christ. In this 
 last sense, it is used in the text; and the thing signi- 
 fied, is illustrated by a comparison, remarkable for tha( 
 
 J
 
 KINGDOM OF GOD. 423 
 
 aptness and beauty, with which all the Saviour's para- 
 bles arc distiniiuished. " Unto what is the kingdom 
 ofCjodlike; and whoreunto shall I resemble it? It is 
 like a g;rain of mustard seed, which a man took and 
 cast into his garden, and it grew, and waxed a great 
 tree ; and the fowls of the air lodged in the branches 
 of it." This parable is worthy of our attentive con- 
 sideration. The illustration of it may instruct, and 
 the inferences from it may confirm us, in that faith^ 
 which, to have received, is our greatest privilege, and 
 to retain which, is eternal life. 
 
 We are first led by the resemblance, to which the 
 Saviour likens iiis kiiigdom, to remark, the srnallness 
 of Christianity in its begimiing. Seeking for the sym- 
 bol with careful consideration, he chooses one, |)rover- 
 bial among the Jews for littleness, the smallest object, 
 possessed of life and expansive force. Small as is the 
 symbol, it is not smaller than the thing it was designed 
 to represent. An obscure prophecy, was the first 
 germ of Christianity, and its only label, a simple rite; 
 the pro|)hecy, (iod's promise to tin? woman, and sacri- 
 fice, the rite. We are not to look for the mustard seed, 
 in the ap|)carance of Christ, nor in the paucity and 
 poverty of the first Apostles. Christianity boasts a 
 greater age. Tracing it only to the visible ministry of 
 Christ, some have greatly erred ; and very many scep- 
 tics, more esi)ecially the ingenious, yet subtle, Volney, 
 have supported upon the error, the dangerous small 
 arms with which they have assaulted our holy religion. 
 They have adduced the notions, mysteries, and rites, 
 of more ancient ages, and different nations; and have 
 rei)resented these, as the elements which imposture 
 borrowed of antiquity, and wrought into a cunning 
 fable, which passes in the world for revelation. 
 Whereas these very notions, mysteries, and rites, are 
 nothing more, than faint imitations, or distorted parts, 
 of the stupendous apparatus, which, from the fall of 
 man, was put in operation to effect his recovery, and
 
 424 KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 introduce " the kingdom of God." Christianity, is 
 older than they all. They owe their oriiiin, to eorrup- 
 tions of the |)ron)ises, types and symbols, whieh pre- 
 pared the way of the Messiah; and not one of them, 
 perhaps, that has any majesty or sienificance, would 
 ever have existed, but for the redemption wrought for 
 us, from the remotest age, and unfolded in the Ciosi)el. 
 As soon as justice took cognizance of man's transgres- 
 sion, mercy promised the deliverer; and it was then, 
 the " mustard seed" was cast into the garden ; the 
 seed of Mf5slah''5 kingdom sown. From that solenm 
 period we date; from that dark promise, we trace the 
 rise and progress of " the things which belong to our 
 peace." Little in its beginning, as this obscure hint, 
 its expansive force was soon exerted. The rite of 
 sacrifice soon succeeded. In that, in tin? sei)aration 
 of the " pecidiar peoi)le," in their institutions, the 
 shadows of good things to come, the seed lay con- 
 cealed, and swelling, and ready to burst into humble, 
 yet i)erpetual life. They, therefore, have rudely mis- 
 taken their cause, who would derive our religion Jroui 
 the "beggarly elements" of heathen antiquities. 
 Thongh exceedingly small, enough so to be as unob- 
 served as the " mustard seed" sown in the ground, its 
 beginning was before the posterities of Adam. Wc 
 have ever to bless our God, that, as early as death laid 
 claim to our race, the seed, whose fruit is to nourish 
 us unto inmiortality, was sown by his hand; and, in 
 due season, made to spring up into lively appearance, 
 before an expecting and wondering world. 
 
 This brings me to remark, from the image which 
 Christ furnishes in the text, of " the kingdom of God," 
 its progressive character. Already we have noticed 
 its gradual exi)ansion in types and pro[)hecies, till it 
 burst into life. In the visible ministry of the Messiah, 
 and promulgation of the Gosjjel, it assumed its defi- 
 nite appearance. This took place tmder the most 
 unfavourable circumstances. The soil in which it
 
 KINGDOM OF GOD. 425 
 
 appeared, was incongruous with its nature, and the 
 clime inclement. In its genuine state, Christianity 
 had to withstand many a blast; to endure both chilling 
 cold, and scorching heat; to encounter every thing 
 which could threaten to check its growth, and crush it 
 in the dust. But it was a plant of an inherent vigour, 
 which no climate could kill, nor rudeness impair; and, 
 under the fostering care of Him who rules all seasons, 
 and disposes all events, it grew daily, it rose in height, 
 and s[)read the wondcT of the world, it became estab- 
 lished. Even the most unfavourable circumstances, 
 were made to contribute to its increase. Persecution 
 lopped off its goodliest boughs; but this gave strength 
 to the body, and the more it was curtailed of its 
 branches, the more did it thrive. Corru|)tion caused 
 its fairest blossoms to fade and decay. But under an 
 all-wise providence, they fell at its root, and nourished 
 the life, which they had left. At length, the super- 
 natural props which had supported, and guided, its 
 earliest growth, became unnecessary. It needed no 
 longer the aid of miraculous powers, and they were 
 removed. " Kings b(!came its nursing fathers, and 
 queens its nursing mothers." Protected by its holy, 
 lovely form; supported by its intrinsic excellence; cul- 
 tivated assiduously by faith and zeal; and blessed with 
 the kindliest influences of heaven, it has exhibited a 
 growth, and acquired a greatness, unparalleled, in its 
 particular circumstances, in the annals of the world; 
 and has, or has had, a name and a praise in most of 
 the nations of the earth. During this progressive state, 
 it has, indeed, been injured much, and at various peri- 
 ods, by unfriendly gales, and the hands of ignorant or 
 depraved cultivators. In our own age, it has experi- 
 enced terrible shocks. Corruption's worms have fat- 
 tened on its trunk; and infidelity, with her most des- 
 tructive winds, has attempted to overturn it, or to 
 blast its beauty. But, goodly, like the young cedar of 
 Lebanon, it resists the worm, and thrives; firm, like 
 vol.. If. 54
 
 42G KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 the oak upon the mountain's side, it stands inspirins 
 awe, and scarcely g;ives the tn'mulousness of its leaves 
 to the conflicting ?ales. I sfop; and looking back 
 through the lon°, Ions l>eriod of two thousand years, 
 beliold, with astonishment, a religion, whose author 
 was crucified, and its i)ri)pa2ators twelve of the most 
 despised of men, whose doctrines were opposed to the 
 dearest tenets and pursuits of the world, and whose 
 only arms and friends, under heaven, were its truth 
 and its merits, rising from tlie smalles>t seed, with such 
 steady growtli, withstanding every injury of time and 
 weather, acquiring place, and strength, and magnitude, 
 in half the earth; and in tliose portentous days, when 
 the heavens arc overcast with unuonted clouds, and 
 the earth is shaken witli a strange convulsion, present- 
 ing to tlie confused " fowls of the air,'* the oidy 
 bianches in which they can lodge, with composure 
 and safety. " It stands fast for ever and ever; and is 
 done in truth and equity." Verily, it " is the Lord's 
 doing; and it is marvellous in our eyes." 
 
 This brings me to ()))serve, that the paiahlr carries 
 us forward to a perfected growth, and triumphant state 
 of " tlie Gospel kingdom." Though now it presents 
 the sure refuge to all people, its branches are not 
 filled; there is room for much further growth, and 
 dread occasion for nnieli pruning. As }et, deliling 
 vines cling to the stately tree, obstructing its spread, 
 and defacing its beauty. As yet, the Jews " look" 
 not " on him w hom they pierced ;" and to many Gen- 
 tile tribes, the cross is '* foolishness." As yet, there 
 is need to cry to the children of men, know ye the 
 Lord; and many of them arc fluttering wildly, and 
 wandering into dangers, for want of the iilaccs in 
 which they may find rest and shelter. But the figure, 
 by which the Cliurch is described, and which has ap- 
 peared hitherto so apt and exact, apprizes us of a ma- 
 ture, and triumphant state, of the Hedcemer's king- 
 dom. The plant of the little seed, tlirough its pro-
 
 KliNGDOM OF GOD. 427 
 
 ijressive growth, is to attain to a perfect height, and 
 strength and greatness. It is to become a great tree; 
 yea, greater than all the trees that arc in the earth. 
 Its root is fixed; and it shall continue to extend its 
 growth, till all the inhabitants of our world, rejoice in 
 ihe shadow of the branciieS of it. 
 
 The Christian religion is composed of such ele- 
 ments; there are in it such princiiiU s and arrange- 
 ments, as suggest, of themselves, that if it is true, it is 
 designed for universal extension, and perpetual dura- 
 tion. From the wisdom of the divine governuKMit, 
 and the analogy of tiie works of God, we should also 
 infer, that its course would be progressive; and liiat 
 having advanced under his special blessing to its j)re- 
 .^ent state, it will continue to advance, till the vast end 
 to which it is adapted, shall be fully accomplished, and 
 it shall reach the maturity, without wiiich, its perfec- 
 tion cannot be developed, nor its utility realized, in all 
 its extent. In the view of reason, it is much more 
 plausible now, that it shall, in the fulness of time, 
 become a great tree, and hll" the earth, than it was at 
 its beginning, that it woidd cv(u- attain to its present 
 height, strength, and greatness. 
 
 But, it is chiefly from the proi)hecies and revelations 
 of Scrljiture, that we derive instruction concerning this 
 interesting truth. They lead us to expect, that in an 
 appointed time, the Gospel will spread itself over the 
 world; and the Church of Christ, purified and ex- 
 tended, become the ark of all nations and |)eoide. In 
 dark figures, mysterious symbols, and suhlime predic- 
 tions, they declare these truths. But indistinct as are 
 the details, enough is evident to assure us, that as " the 
 comparison" wherewith the Saviour " compared" his 
 kingdom, has, hitherto, through so many centuries, 
 been exactly verified, so it siiall, at length, in the uni- 
 versal extension of the knowledge and blessings of the 
 Gospel, have a complete fulfilment. For the i)rotec- 
 tion. jiourishmcnt, and maturity of this tree, which the
 
 428 KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 Most High hath planted, his providence is engaged, 
 and his word pledged. " It shall stretch its boughs 
 unto the sea, and its branches unto the rivers;" and in 
 its presence, every idol grove shall bo made to wither, 
 and every plant of error shall be rooted out. No 
 weapon formed against it siiall prosper. It may be 
 shaken, and some of its leaves which harbour corrup- 
 tion, or have lost their verdure, shall fall; but its root 
 is immoveable, and its strength is eternal, and it shall 
 not cease to multiply its branches, till it shall have 
 spread itself " from sea to sea, and from the river, to 
 the ends of the earth." 
 
 Fastening our eyes upon the miraculous reservation 
 of the Jews, as a i)ledge of the completion of these 
 great promises, it is our duty to ponder with attention 
 these gracious pur[)Oses of tiie Most High, and to re- 
 joice, with faith and becoiiiing iiratitude, in the gr«'at- 
 ness and glorious destiny of our iioly reli;.ion. Bear- 
 ing ever in mind the Saviour's reply to the too inquisi- 
 tive Peter, " It is not for you to know the times or 
 the seasons, which the 'Father hath put in his own 
 power," we should, with reverent humility, check our 
 inquiries where the Almighty hath assigned limits to 
 them; and maintain a stc^adfast confidence in the wis- 
 dom of his arrangements, and the certainty of his 
 word. Appreciating, faithfully, our own privilege and 
 happiness, in having been brought " to the knowledge 
 of his grace, and faith in him," we should contribute, by 
 all the means wiiich he hatii put in our power, to the 
 extension of his kingdom, and when we offer the peti- 
 tion, which we are taught and commanded to offer 
 daily, that this kingdom may come, we should ofler it 
 with the utmost devotion of our souls, both with an 
 eye to the glory of our God, and a generous concern for 
 the instruction, and salvation of all our fellow men. 
 
 We liave now consi<iered tlie beautiful, and exact 
 resemblance furnished by Christ of the kingdom of 
 God. 'j'herc are infcicuces from this subject, of great
 
 KINGDOM OF GOD. 429 
 
 weii^ht and variety. Let me entreat your patience, 
 while I adduce Only a few which are too instructive to 
 be omitted. 
 
 The first is, that this is one of those singularly im- 
 portant comparisons, or j)arables, ^^ hich are not only 
 illustrative, but prophetic. We are to remember, that 
 it was usecV eighteen hundred years ago, when the 
 Christian Church was as small and feeble, as the germ 
 just starting into life, from its seed. Had Jesus 
 Christ been any other than he declared himself; had 
 he not come from CJod, he could not have known, that 
 his cause would n( t he crushed at its birth ; and would 
 never have hazarded, upon ground altogether uncer- 
 tain, a prediction, whose failure must have betrayed 
 his falsehood and defeated his design. The |)rogress 
 of the Gospel, thus far, is evidence that its author had 
 an intuition of the far distant course of events. He 
 spake his parable, with the confidence, which his pre- 
 science only could have inspired* and the i)rediction it 
 involves, will appear to the humble and sincere inqui- 
 rer, as a daily attestation of th(^ truth of the religion, 
 in support of which it was uttered. For wiio, but one 
 acquainted u ith the counsels of the Almighty, would 
 have ventured to pronounce, that the little seed of the 
 Gospel kingdom, should becoint; a great tree, and fill 
 the earth? >\ ho, that had tluis pronounced, could, 
 under the government of that Being who heareth not 
 sinners, have had his prediction so wondcfully fulfil- 
 led? 
 
 Another important inrcrcnce, from what has been 
 said is, that the Gospel is the object of constant provi- 
 dential care. It much favours its claim to be consid- 
 ered as the work of God, that it is analogous in its 
 course to his otiier operations. There is a method 
 with the Most High. His works are all progressive. 
 There is a gradation of cause and effect, in all the 
 oiJcrations of his hands. The course of revelation, is 
 in striking harmony with this method. As the day
 
 430 KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 gradually rises from its dawn, to noonday splendour; 
 as the year gradually unfolds the successive perfections 
 of its seasons; as the i)lant springs from its seed, and 
 gradually gro\ys to its maturity: as every thing in na- 
 ture advances to its end, by steps of a constant and 
 majestic order, so Christianity has hrcn i^ro^ressive; 
 not flashed upon the world with sudden gf;ire, like the 
 transient li^htninff, but systematically introduced, 
 established, and developed, according to his uniform 
 method, who " worketh all in all." Although it has 
 been made a noisy objection, that this religion was not 
 earlier promulgated, and in resistless manner, to the 
 reflecting mind the preparation that preceded it, its 
 small beginning, gradual e\|)aiJsion, and steady pro- 
 gress towards its maturity, point to the same delib- 
 erate hand, to which we refer the works of creation 
 that surround us. 
 
 But more especially the inadequateness of the means 
 to the effect, obliges us, when cont(>mplating the rise 
 and progress of the Gospel, to acknowledge an agency, 
 invisible and Almighty. Survey the venerable oak. 
 As you trace back its astonishing growth to a small 
 acorn, dying in the earth, do you not perceive irresist- 
 ible evidence of an invisible, and intelligent power, 
 framing in embryo its curious parts, giving it life, con- 
 ducting its growth, and bringing it to its majestic form 
 and maturity? You surely do. For where, but in 
 the wisdom and power of the Creator, can be found 
 adequate cause of the wonderful i)roccsi>I liut look 
 now at the religion of the Gospel. Retrace its progress 
 back to its small origin. Observe how curiously and 
 wonderfully its parts are formed and connected. Be- 
 hold, how, without human aid, it has struggled 
 through every difliculty which could obstruct its 
 growth, or impair its beauty. See it rise; mark its 
 increase; and contemplate the prospect of its unlimited 
 extention. Do this and say, if ye do not perceive, 
 that it must have been from the beginning the work of
 
 KINGDOM OF GOD. 431 
 
 God ; that as the object of your Creator's care, it is of 
 divi'ie origin, and entitled to your reverence and devout 
 regard! Who hath heard such a thing! Who hath 
 seen sucli a thing! The growth of this tree of life, 
 from the little seed cast in the garden, demands for its 
 explanation the agency of infinite wisdom and power. 
 And by this in the moral, as " by the things which are 
 made," in the natural world, " the invisible things" of 
 Jehovah are "clearly" manifested, "even his eternal 
 power and Godhead." So that the unbeliever and the 
 sinner are without excuse. 
 
 The last infciunce I shall make, from the Saviour's 
 lively representation of his kingdom is, the encourage- 
 ment it is calculated to aflbrd, to bis pious discii)les, in 
 times unfavourable to Christianity, when the laugh of 
 the scorner, and the delusions of vice, prevail. It is in 
 times, when many are ofiended at his doctrines, that 
 the Saviour has occasion to say to his nearest friends, 
 "will ye also go away.'" It is in the seasons, when 
 the overflowing of ungodliness makes him afraid, that 
 the good man, like Eli, will be on " the way side 
 watching," with " his heart trembling for the ark of 
 God." But, when his spirit is sinking within him, 
 aitd anxiety and perplexity are seizing upon his 
 thoughts, he can repose with consolation upon the 
 divine assurance, that the plant, which " his heavenly 
 Father hath planted," is rooted in the earth by his un- 
 alterable decree; that it shall there stand and flourish, 
 in defiance of every worm, and every wind, which may 
 assail it; that storms and tempests, shall only serve to 
 free it of its lil'elcss wood and leaves, and establish it 
 more firmly, with more renowned greatness. 
 
 Such, Christians, is the illustration, and such are 
 the inferences of the " comparison," wherewith our 
 blessed Lord hath " comi)ared" the kingdom of God. 
 U|)on the whole it appears, that this goodly tree, is 
 the hope of our world. Let, then, the rich befriend it 
 with their fosterisig aid. as affordiu;: the safest shade-,
 
 432 KINGDOM OF GOD. 
 
 beneath which they may enjoy their privileges and 
 blessings. Let the poor gather themselves around it, 
 as yielding the only odours, with which their weary 
 spirits may be refreshed. And let all the good, unceas- 
 ingly ask the dews of heaven upon it, that reaching, 
 ere long, its promised maturity, its fruit may be for 
 meat, and its " leaves for tiic healins of the nations."
 
 SERJMON LXXXVI. 
 
 COME TO JESUS OF NAZARETH AND BE 
 HEALED. 
 
 St. Luke, xviii. 37. 
 
 And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by. 
 
 i O whom was this told ; and what were the effects 
 of the information? It was told to one, in whose 
 bodily infirmity, there was a figure of our spiritual 
 condition; and the effects of the information were an 
 imase of the deliverance which we may have, through 
 the Redeemer. I ask your attention to this interesting 
 story, that you, *' through patience and comfort of this 
 Scripture, may have hope." 
 
 We will first attend to the subject of the miracle, 
 which the Gospel records. There are four things 
 
 VOL. II. 55
 
 434 COME TO JESUS. 
 
 concerning him worthy of observation ; his condition, 
 a blind beggar; his application for help, under the 
 sense of his blindness, to Jesus of Nazareth, as soon as 
 he heard of him; his perseverance, notwithstanding 
 the obstacles which were thrown in the way; and 
 his wonderful recovery of his sight. 
 
 A bhnd beggar! Can a condition bo conceived, 
 more humble, more helpless, more deplorable! In a 
 spiritual sense, it is the condition of every sinner, lie 
 sees not God ; he sees not -alvalion : he sees not peace. 
 By the fall, his understanding is darkened. I3y reason 
 of the film, which his iniquities have spread over his 
 spiritual sight, the light of God's countenance, which 
 shines eternally upon his creatures, is not seen. On 
 the way side of life, he is poor and blind, de|)endent, 
 for guidance, upon any one who will undertake to 
 lead him, and for gratification, u|)on the [littnnce of 
 pleasnre which he begs of some passion, or the tidings, 
 which he asks of the traveller concerning vain, and 
 temporal things. " I counsel thee," says one, who 
 alone is worthy to advise, " I counsel thee to anoint 
 thine eyes \\ith eye salv(», that thou mayest see; for 
 thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind." 
 So unhappy is the condition of this blind beggar, that 
 when he feels his necessities, he sees not of whom he 
 may ask for help; and when the Saviour passes bj', 
 who can restore to him his vision, and satisfy iiim 
 with bread, he asks through his blindness, " what it 
 means." And the greatest misfortmu! is, that he is 
 less anxious to be delivered from his spiritual, than 
 from bodily wretchedness; a disposition, which is 
 illustrated and rei)roved, in the second thing to b«' no- 
 ticed, concerning the beggar on the way to Jericho, his 
 immediate application for help, under the sense of his 
 blindness, to him who was able to heal him. " They 
 told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passed by. And he 
 cried, saying, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy 
 on me." Jesus of Nazareth! Ilis fame was now
 
 QOMT. TO .TESTIS. 435 
 
 spread abroad. He was approved amply of God, by 
 sisns and wonders which he wrought. This blind 
 be^sar had heard that, by him, " the blind received 
 sight, and the lame did walk, the lepers were cleansed, 
 and the deaf did hear, the dead were raised up, and 
 to the poor the Gospel was preached." Of his cha- 
 racter as the Messiah, he had obtained some know- 
 ledge, for he addressed him as the " son of David." 
 Probably, he had heard of his wonderful compassion, 
 that none who sought of liim deliverance from misery, 
 however poor, or friendless, or wretched, were turned 
 away. Perha()s he recollected, without understanding 
 the spiritual import, that in the days of the " son of 
 David," the eyes of the blind should be opened. At 
 any rate, he who might heal him, was passing by. Fie 
 would not wait for a better opportunity. He would 
 not stop to calculate the probability of success. With- 
 out asserting any claim to his help; yea, with a con- 
 sciousness that he had nothing to give, in compensation 
 for his cure, he immediately cast himself upon the pity 
 of the Redeemer; he cried, "Jesus, thou son of Da- 
 vid, have mercy on me." And thus should the blind 
 beggar in the spiritual sense, seek for deliverance. 
 The fame of Jesus, as the Saviour of sinners, has 
 been spread abroad through all ages. Prophets have 
 proclaimed it. Apostles have declared it. His own 
 miracles of grace, have testified it. By raising him 
 from the dead, God hath also ai)i)roved him unto all 
 men, as his messenger to this lower world, to give sal- 
 vation to its sinful inhabitants, by the remission of 
 sins. Destitute of the joys, and benefits, of the light 
 of life, exposed to innumerable perils and privations, 
 poor and friendless, shall sinful men, when this Mes- 
 siah, who is " mighty to save," passes near them, 
 neglect to call upon him, defer to seek his help! 
 AVhat, though they have no claim to his assistance ! 
 "What, though they cannot remunerate his love ! He 
 offers his mercy " without money, and without price."
 
 436 COME TO JESUS. 
 
 With confidence in the fame they have heard of his 
 power, and the declarations the Ahiiishty hath ?iven 
 of his authority, they should stretch out thrir hands to 
 him as needy supplicants, and beg the mercy, which is 
 Jehovah's alms. " Jesus, thou son of David, have 
 mercy on us." They will not cry in vain, if they 
 imitate the blind begjinr in 
 
 The third thins; to be noticed in him, viz: his per- 
 severance, notwithstanding; the obstacles which were 
 thrown in his nay. "And tliry who went before, 
 rebuked him, tiiat he shoidd hold his peace; but he 
 cried so much the more. Thou Son of David, have 
 mercy on me." Great, and innumerable anMhe diffi- 
 culties whic!i sinners may have to surniount, in comins; 
 to Christ. How shall I, says one, u ho is poor and 
 naked, mean and desi)ised, look for a plac«^ in the 
 Church of tlie sniiits, or expect any notice from the 
 ministers of the sacred pools: \Vhat, savs an uncha- 
 ritable nmltitude, concerning the ignorant and stupid, 
 the blindest and poorest bef:;fiars by the way side, can 
 th< se expect to attract the attention of the Son of God, 
 and to be made heirs of his covenant, and of the 
 household of the Most Hii;ii' Hold thy peace, 
 wretched sinncM*, saith the achcrsary. Cease from thy 
 ])rayers, thy liopes, and tiiy inquiries. Canst thou 
 hope for deliverance, whose sins have caused thee to 
 be given up to blindness, who art too wicked to be 
 repuded by CiodI Thus, the worhl derides: con- 
 science inlimidates; the adversary terrifies. But a 
 sense of his dangers and miseries; and confidence in 
 the power niul niercy of tiie Saviour, will render the 
 sinner imporiuuatcs and jjcrsevering in his prayers. 
 The pressure upon him of his miseries and dang;er, 
 togeth(U- with his appn hension of the power of the 
 Messiah, to set him free, will not suifer him to remit 
 his importunity. He will supplicate so much the more 
 earnestly, as God the longer deferreth to deliver him. 
 Like the blind man in this Gospel, \a hose persevc-
 
 COME TO JESLS. 457 
 
 ranee is recorded for our instruction, obstacles and 
 delay will add strength to his cries; he will continue 
 to call till Jesus hears him. 
 
 The success and happiness of such perseverance, 
 are taught us in the fourth thing we have to notice, 
 concerning the subject of this miracle, the wonderful 
 recovery of his sight. " And Jesus said unto him, 
 Receive; thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee. And 
 imnu'diately he received his sight, and followed him, 
 glorifying God." Who can forbear to picture to him- 
 self, the joy which now rushed as a torrent over the 
 blind begiiju's heart. The sun in the heavens he saw 
 with delight, and wonder; the face of nature trans- 
 ported him with its beauty and sublimity, and the 
 relations and proportions of all its parts. He gazed 
 upon till' fair colours of the llowers, which had re- 
 freshed him \\ith a fragrance that came from objects 
 mIiicIi lie cduld not behold. lie lifted his eyes with 
 admiration to the source of that heat, u hich had some- 
 limes imparted to his impoverished frame, a genial 
 warmth, with the origin of which, and its transcendant 
 glory, he was unaccpiainted. He f«^lt, too, free. He 
 saw the face of man. He walked without a leader. 
 What ^^onder, that he clung to the being, who had 
 gi\('n him such indcixiidence, and opened to him such 
 views and hopes! Well might "he follow Jesus, glo- 
 rifying God." This is but one of many instances, in 
 w hich our Lord seemed not to hearken to the prayer 
 of the poor destitute, till their earnestness had been 
 proved, and their faith and perseverance manifested. 
 And as the importunate widow overcame by her con- 
 tinual su|)plieations, even the unjust "Judge, who 
 feared not God, nor regarded man," so God will help 
 the needy who cry day and night unto him, though he 
 bear long with tiieni. Nor will their joy, and the 
 sources of their Iiai)piness be less, than the blind man's, 
 when he turncth him unto their prayer, and granteth 
 their de>ire. His reconciled "countenance." thev will
 
 438 COME TO JESUS. 
 
 behold pleasant and glorious, " as the sun shining iu 
 his strength." Faith, and hope, and charity; and all 
 the objects of the moral world, will be seen in all their 
 beauty, and grandeur; their [)roporti()ns, and relations 
 to each other. The source of the pood feelings which, 
 while yet tliey were blind, occasionally wanned their 
 souls, will be seen; and the fair complexions of the 
 graces, with whose benevolent deeds they were occa- 
 sionally refreshed. They see man in his true character 
 and destiny. They feel tiicir spirits fn'e. They lift 
 ui) their eyes, and a heaven is seen above, ethereal, 
 unbounded, glorious, and, beyond the rc.ich of their 
 spiritual vision, they ima::ine regions of immortality, 
 where God dwells. To these regions, th«'y hope to 
 come. Of the Joys of this immortality, the restoration 
 of their sight is a pledge to them, ihey shall one day 
 share. And how shall they forhcar to follow him, to 
 whom they owe this " great salvation !'' 
 
 From Bartimeus, we turn to Jesus of Nazareth; 
 from the conduct of the !»lind beggar, to the conduct 
 of the Son of God, who gave him sight. Three 
 things here deserve our consideration; the extent of 
 Iiis benevolence, his gracious condescension, and his 
 ascription to the blind man's faith, of tl»e salvation 
 which he foimd. 
 
 The extent of our Lord's benevolent e, is worthy of 
 remark. It embraces the w hole human race. The 
 rich and honourable counsellor of Arimathea, and the 
 blind beggar on the way from Jericho, are alike ob- 
 served by him, and ha\c his regard. In like manner, 
 his rcdeniption embraces all mankind. The penitent 
 J^lagdalen shares it with faiihful Abraham. No sin- 
 ner is so far removed from God, that he may not be 
 brought nigh by tlie blood of Christ. Poor blind man 
 by the way side, despair not to call upon Jesus, if he 
 come in thy way. He died for thee. 
 
 Another tiling remarkable in the conduct of our 
 I.ord is, his gracious condescension. He " stood, and
 
 COME TO JESUS. 439 
 
 commanded him to be broiislit unto him; and when 
 he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt 
 thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord, 
 that I may receive my sisiit. And Jesus said unto 
 him, Receive thy si£,ht; thy faith hath saved thee." 
 The Son of God, the heir of all worlds, stops on his 
 way to hearken to the prayer of a blind beggar; he 
 calls him to him, and enters into an inquiry concerning 
 his wishes and his wants, and this for our instruction ; 
 that when awed by the greatness of our Creator, and 
 overwhelmed by the distance between him and us, Ave 
 may be encouraged to call upon him, and hoi)e in his 
 name. The blind n)an put contidencc in his goodness, 
 and obtained jiis desire. 
 
 it is imi>ortant to be observed, that the faith of this 
 suppliant, procured him his relief. The Scriptures 
 give us no example, of any blessing obtained from our 
 Saviour, without this (piality. " If thou believest." — 
 " All things are possible to hini that believcth." And 
 again ; *' O, woman, great is thy faith ; bi' it tjuto thee, 
 even as thou wilt.'' And here, in the case before us, 
 Jesus said unto him, " Receive thy sight, thy faith 
 hath saved thee." Awakened sinner; wouldst thou 
 share the mercies, and come unto him, believing that 
 thy God hath sent him into the world, for thy redemp- 
 tion? Have confidence in his goodness, and the suffi- 
 ciency of his power to save thee. If there were no 
 other reason why faith should be required of thee, it 
 were a sufficient and an awful one, which St. John 
 hath given; " He that believeth not God, hath made 
 him a liar; because he beliveth not the record thai 
 God gave of his Son. And this is the record, that 
 God hath givcu to us eternal life, and this life is in 
 his Son," 
 
 Brethren, the application of this interesting portion 
 of Scripture is to yourselves. God has i)laced you, 
 though blind and poor, in liie way in which you may 
 hear of his Son the Redeemer. When you hear the 

 
 440 COME TO JESUS. 
 
 voices of the Prophets, and the movements of the 
 types, and the sacrifices are set before you, do von ask 
 what it meanetli? "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by." 
 Wlien the Church calU^tli you to joy in a Cliristnias, to 
 jkeep a Lent, to solemnize a Good Friday, to observe 
 an Easter, to celebrate an Ascension, do you ask what 
 itmeaneth? " Jesus of Nazareth passrth by.'' When 
 the altar of God hath upon it, its white covering, and 
 there are placed thereon bread and wine, and the 
 Priests stand by it, in det-pcst humility and hii;liest 
 adoration, do you ask what it mcainMh." " Jt'sus of 
 Nazareth passeth by." Are your drsires to po to him 
 for the salvation you need, restrained by your bars, or 
 the opposition of the enemy, or the cavils of an evil 
 world? Rise, he calleth you. Are you guilty ? He 
 calleth you to i)ardon. Are you feeble? He calleth 
 you to srace. Are you afDictcd? He calleth you to 
 consolation. Are you mortal? He calleth >ou to 
 eternal life. " Come unto me," saith he, " all ye that 
 travel, and are heavy laden, and 1 will j^ive you rest." 
 Be not deterred, then, by the dilViculties in the way. 
 Lay aside the upper j:arment of your own sufllciency. 
 It may entangle you in going to Jesus. Think not of 
 your claim to his help. Regard not your inability to 
 compcnsat(^ him for your cure. Have faith in his cha- 
 racter. Have faith in his pity, and his power. His 
 name is Saviour. Contemplate him by his name, and 
 cry to him perseveringly, '' Jesus, thou Son of David, 
 have mercy on me." He standcth still when the poor 
 calleth; " he also will hear their prayer, and will hel|» 
 them."
 
 SERJMON LXXXVn* 
 
 THE RICH AND THE GREAT, BEGGING 
 THE BODY OF JESUS. 
 
 Matthew, xxvii. 5S. 
 
 He went to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesits. 
 
 -I HE fate of the body of our blessed Lord, after his 
 crucifixion, is a very interesting part of his history. 
 You have often heard, that it passed from the cross 
 into the hands of Joseph of Arimathea, and by him, 
 being affectionately embalmed with S|)ices, and wrap- 
 ped in clean linen, was deposited in a sepulchre in his 
 garden. Many a pious Christian has, doubtless, envied 
 this Arimathean his felicity, in possessing the body of 
 
 * Preached on a Communioo Sunday. 
 
 VOL. II. 56
 
 442 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 
 
 his Lord. You all, when readiiiii tlic narrativp, have 
 admired the constancy of his affection, his resolution, 
 and his |)ious fidelity. But there are riirumstanees of 
 this transaction, in the reading; of ^^ liich, it may be, 
 the uses they give it have not been noticed, nor tiic 
 instructions they suggest, regarded. About to go ui) 
 to the table of the Lord to receive that which he hath 
 left us as his body, tiiese circumstances may be well 
 brought to our recollection, and made subjects of our 
 meditation. Tiiey relate to the event we arc to com- 
 memorate. They are instructive, some one or other 
 of them, to all. 
 
 In the first place, he whom we here find begging 
 " the body of Jesus," ^^ as rich. " There was a rich 
 man of Arimaihea, named Josepli, uho also liimselt 
 was Jesus' disciple." It is |)h'asant to find tlie rich 
 among the disciples of the Lord. To his merits and 
 intercession, they owe wliatevt^ good things they en- 
 joy. By their inlluence in society, and the conspicu- 
 ousness of their examples, they may reniler him the 
 greatest service. And amidst more cares and tempta- 
 tions than others, having more to resist whih' they five, 
 and more to leave when they die, they have the most 
 need of the guards and consolations of his lioly religion. 
 Of tlic benefits, particularly, uhich the Lord's Su|»per 
 was instituted to convey, they may avail themselves 
 with the greater advantage. Nowhere can the sanc- 
 tifying influences of iiis body, be more necessary or 
 useful, than amidst the possessions and dangers of the 
 affluent. Disdain not, >e rich, to beg it at his table. 
 Affluence, wiih rciiiiion, is a blessing from God, and 
 beneficial to the worKI. But, irreligious affluence, is 
 the greatest ingratitude to the Most High, and |)erni- 
 cious in its influence among men. 'J'he good Arinia- 
 thean, " who himself al^o was Jesus' disciple," was 
 rich. 
 
 Further. This jierson, whose care to obtain the 
 l)ody of Christ, lias given him an unpcrishable renown,
 
 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 44^ 
 
 was in })ublic life. He was an " honourable" man, 
 and a " counsellor." And though with God, there is 
 no respect of persons, yet for men, and for themselves, 
 it is happy, when public characters are guided by the 
 princi|jles, observe the ordinances, and are adorned 
 with the graces of religion. They, in an especial 
 manner, need her influences to sustain them, under the 
 burden of their cares, and i)reserve them in their nu- 
 merous liabilities to evil. And it is of great utility to 
 n\\ orders in society, when they who are to rule, or to 
 teach others, ar(; seen submitting themselves obedi- 
 ontly to the ordinances of liie Almighty. Refrain not, 
 ye who are in stations of trust, or of power, from 
 seeking in the sanctuary of her strength, the blessings 
 of religion. Go to her altar, to contem|)late and 
 crave the body of Jesus. Ainitlst the fears and perils 
 of your place, it will inspire you with strength, and 
 holy hope. Amidst tiie ingratitude, and querulousness, 
 and slander, to wiiich (hose who in public stations, 
 are always exposed, it will teach you to bear, and to 
 forgive. It will teach you to i)ersevere, as far as you 
 are able, in "doing good to all men," even to your 
 enemies. It will cleanse your spirits, if, amidst the 
 exposures, and turmoils, and injuries of life, they have 
 been sullied with u rong passions, or evil desires. It 
 will give rest to your souls, amidst the fatigues of busi- 
 ness, and anxieties of fidelity, by opening to them, 
 again and again, that hai)i>iness of heaven, of which 
 " the body of Jesus" is the i)ledge to the faithful. Nor 
 will religion ever fail, to give to those w ho seek her in 
 public life, their highest grace. More to be valued is 
 the precious oil of that sanctity, which she sheds uj»on 
 the heads of her votaries, than any laurels which pro- 
 claim their heroism, or bays that crown their wisdom. 
 Vou see it among princes, in the great Alfred. You 
 see it among counsellors in that model of Christian 
 sanctity, Chief Justice Hale. Nor are there wanting, 
 among ihc mo'Jt estimable of the public officers of
 
 444 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 
 
 our own country, some, who are seen going humbly 
 to the altar of God, and " begging the body of Jesus.'^ 
 It is believed that, in Christian countries, there are 
 many among the rich, and among those in public sta- 
 tions, wlio would gladly stnnd among the disciples of 
 the Redeemer. But they shrink from the opinion of 
 ihe world; of that world, too, which is evil, and 
 whose " friendship is enmity \\iih Clod." We will 
 pass, therefore, to notice, in tiie third |)lace, the reso- 
 lution of the faithful Arimatiiean, in the act recorded 
 of him in tiie text. " He went to Pilate, and begged 
 the body of Jesus." Tiiis man was a Jew. 1 1 is own 
 kindred ;ind nation, had caused Christ to be slain. By 
 the peo|)le among whom he dwelt, the crucified .lesus 
 was held in derision. Not oidy contempt and scorn, 
 but persecution and licnth awaited his followers. But 
 Joseph " was Jesus' disciple.*' The body of his Lord, 
 of his friend, of his Saviour, was not to be lightly re- 
 garded, nor timidly neglected, thoui;h all men should 
 desert it but himself. He presses forward to obtain it, 
 through the levity and sarcnsms of his n«*ighl)Ours. lie 
 presses forwarvl, through the scorn of :in uidu-lieving 
 world. It is, indeed, the hody of a crucified man. 
 But it is the crucifixion of iliat body, which procurrs 
 the pardon of his sins, and restores iiim to the favour 
 of Cod. It is the body of the Being, who hath given 
 himself for him, tluough whom alone, he, a sinner, 
 hatii hope of evcrlastiii:; life. lie thinks not, what he 
 shall hn/ard. lie minds nor, what the uanton and 
 the tliouuhth^ss \\ ill s;iy of him. To obtain the pre- 
 cious body, lie presses forward, even into the ))resencr 
 of Pilate; of that Pilate, who had delivered up Christ 
 as a malefactor, and, prohably, looked upon his fol 
 lowers, with pity and contempt, as miserable childrcji 
 of delusion. Even into the presence of Pilate does 
 Joseph press to obtain the body of his Lord; regard- 
 loss, alike, of the inquisition of t!ie Roman Kovernor, 
 and tiie srorn and d<Mision of elvaled life. Ii(^ " went
 
 BEGGING THE BODY OP JESUS. 445 
 
 in boldly unto Pilate," says St. Mark, " and craved 
 the body of Jesus." Hallowed constancy! Trans- 
 cendpnt resolution of pious affection ! Were a spirit 
 like thine, thou saint of the Most High God, in the 
 hearts of the Christians to whom this body is offered, 
 would they turn their backs, lest a thoughtless, and 
 profane world, should point at them, as religionists, 
 deluded or insincere! It is to be feared, that many, 
 particularly among the rich, and the great, and the 
 younger part of the Christian community, are deterred 
 from avowing their respect for Christianity, and its in- 
 stitutions, and especially from going to the sacrament 
 of the Lord's Su|)per, by a regard to the opinion, a 
 fear of the remarks, a subjection to the influence, of 
 the world. But, Christians, is it not the body of your 
 only Saviour which is there offered you? Is it not the 
 body, without which you could have had no pardon of 
 your sins? Is it not the body of Him who died for your 
 redemption, and whose blood hath i)urchascd heaven 
 for you? And can the opinion of the world, weigh 
 any thing against your obligation to receive that body? 
 So long as you neglect to do so, are you not living in 
 an habitual disregard of the commandment of the 
 Lord, and, consequently, in habitual sin? 
 
 But it may be said, ue arc immersed in the busi- 
 ness, anil the pleasures of life; we are not in a situa- 
 tion favourable to religion; how shall we use '' the 
 body of .lesus?" Ah, this is the error! As if there 
 were any situation, in which religion is not needful 
 for man; as if the Deity had required any thing of all 
 men, which the condition in which he has placed any 
 one, unfits him to ])erform! Wh.at did Joseph with 
 the body of Jesus nlu'n he had obtained it? He took 
 it into his gardt^i. He deposited, he kept it there. 
 And thus sliould all his disciples do. We all have 
 gardens of our delight; some, in the domestic circle; 
 some, in the regions of business; some, near the walks 
 of nmbilion. or of science: and ^ome. on pleasure's
 
 446 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 
 
 grounds. Wherever they are, we need, while wc 
 walk in them, the body of our Lord, to remind us of 
 sinfuhiess and the heinousnoss of sin; to assure us of 
 pardon, and a better life; and to impel us to the love 
 and service of our Creator. And, surely, the hosts of 
 heaven are where the body of the Lord is; surely, it 
 repelleth the evil one, who, at the siiiht of the blood of 
 the Redeemer, relinquisheth his hold upon his prey; 
 surely, where it had been, angels met the beloved 
 disciple, and Peter, and the i)i()iis women, with the 
 blissful assurances of the resurrection. It is like the 
 Paschal Lamb. Its blood is the token for preservation 
 to the destroyer. Because of the infatuating attraction, 
 and contaminating inlluence of business and pleasure, 
 we have reason to i^o often to the altar of (iod, to 
 renew our repentance, and our vows; to be sanctified 
 again with the blood of the sacrifice which is upon it; 
 and receive, afresh, the spirit of grace from on high. 
 Religion does not interfere with any proper business, 
 or innocent pleasure of life. Her ordinances are not 
 arrows to wound, but shields to protect us. Never 
 was the garden of Joseph safer, or plcasant(M*, than 
 when he had in it, "the body of Jesus." It kept tiie 
 hosts of heaven near him. One cannot forb(\'ir to 
 think that, at limes, the Spirit of tiie Lord Cioil talk- 
 ed there. 
 
 But this brings me to the last circumstance of this 
 transaction, to which yom- attention may happily be 
 directed; the reward of Joseph's lidelity. It was his 
 distinguished felicity, that, in his ground, death was 
 overcome, and the bars of his prison broken, and ever- 
 lasting life opened to the human race. Here, fust, 
 was heard, the blissful sound, " The Lord is risen !" 
 Here, first, broke fortli that light of immortality, 
 which, from that day, haili brightened every chamber 
 of the tomb. Plappy Arimathean! Wc may not share 
 with him in this felicit}. But there is another resur- 
 rection: a resurrection -from "thedeatii of sin. unto
 
 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 447 
 
 the life of rishtoousness." And when the body of the 
 Redeemer is taken, and wrapped in the clean linen of 
 a pure faith, with the spices of affectionate devotion 
 and obedience, this resurrection is witnessed in the 
 bosom, into which it was received. And who shall 
 speak its joy ! It enliveneth life. It giveth " songs in 
 the night." Its fruit, is present peace and transporting 
 hope, and its end, an ascension with the conqueror of 
 death, the deliverer of man, to his kingdom in heaven, 
 and everlasting life there. Virtually shall every one, 
 who faithfully receives the body of the Lord, share 
 with Joseph, the recompense of his fidelity to his Mas- 
 ter and friend; for he, too, shall witness, and " know 
 the |)o\ver of his resurrection." 
 
 There have been set before you, my hearers, the 
 striking and instructive circumstances, of this part of 
 the history of our Lord. May it lead the rich, to be 
 of His disciples, who, "though he was rich, yet, for 
 our sakes became poor, that we, through his i)overty 
 might be rich." If any are hearing me, who arc in 
 stations of trust or i)o\vcr, may it induce them, amidst 
 the exposures and cares of their situations, to seek, and 
 exhibit, the sanctifying influences of religion. JMay it 
 encourage the young and the fearful, yea, and all the 
 followers of the Lamb, to go to his altar, without re- 
 garding the opinion of an evil world, and, witii pious 
 affection, " crave the body of Jesus." And, Chris- 
 tians, when you have received it, take it with you into 
 the gardens of your life. It may be, that its presence 
 will cause some noxious plants to wither. But not a 
 plant of goodly qualities, but will flourish more luxu- 
 riantly; not a flower of innocent beauty, but will 
 bloom more lovely, by " the body of Jesus." Its pre- 
 sence in the garden, will consecrate the ground; and 
 shed an air of solemn majesty, and holy stillness, 
 which will remind you of another world. As you ad- 
 vance towards the evening of your day, you will find 
 yourselves, in whatever walk you may be, bending
 
 448 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUb. 
 
 your steps most willingly towards his sepulchre. On 
 death, you will muse with most peaceful stillness; and 
 the hope of resurrection, will come near your souls, 
 sweeter than the last rays of the departing sun, while 
 you have near you, and contemplate, with the emo- 
 tions and expectations it is given to produce, " the body 
 of the Lord Jesus."
 
 SER]MON LXXXVra. 
 
 ON THE COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 
 
 Rk%ilation, iv. 3. 
 
 And there tms n rainbow round about the throne^ in 
 sight like unto an emerald. 
 
 J. O penetrate tlie veil which separates heaven from 
 our view, and look into its glories, pleasures, and pur- 
 suits, is the natural desire of the Christian mind. As 
 the country to which our virtuous friends have, many 
 of them, departed, and to which, our hopes and steps 
 are directed by our faith, we cannot help feeling inqui- 
 sitive about it; every instruction or description which 
 relates to it, deeply interests our thoughts. 
 
 In the beginning of the chapter, from which I have 
 taken my text, St. John enters upon the relation of the 
 most beatific vision of this country, which has been 
 
 vol.. II. /)7
 
 .450 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 
 
 yet vouclisafed to any mortal being. Havin- had liis 
 visual strength perfectfcl, hy the Spirit of (Jod, " he 
 looked, and behold, a door was opened in lu-nven." 
 The state, and niajesty of liie J)eity, in his hi-ih abode; 
 the attendants of his throne; their oeeniiations and 
 bliss; the economy of the celestial world : its fnrniture 
 and glories, were unfolded to his sight. And when he 
 sunk, overwhelmed with the brightness of lh«* di>iilay, 
 an angel attended to strenL^then and instrnet hitn. 
 
 Among the objects in the glorious prosp( et, which 
 attracted his admiring view, he tells us, in the text, 
 "there was a rainbow round about the throne" of the 
 Eternal, "in sight like unto an emerald." An object this, 
 of singular grand(HU- and expression. Anndst all the 
 glories of heaven he describes, it may uorihily hold 
 our consideration awhile : and to ascertain its signifi- 
 cance, and pursue the reflections it suggests, shall be 
 our employment of the pas>ing hour. 
 
 Kv(M'y one \\ ill pirceive in the raiid)ow, which St. 
 John describes, an allusion to that beauteous ofl'spring 
 of di\ine pouer and goodness, in the natural world, 
 whicii bears the same name. This last, when the 
 flood had executed the just vengeance of the Most 
 High, upon an irreclaimabh* world, was given to the 
 f(^w righteous i)er>oiis ^^ ho had been saved in the ark 
 jVoin pirishing; as a token to liiem, and it) their pos- 
 terity for ev( r, that the uau rs of a Hood, shoidd no 
 more destroy tlio carili. A\\ful was the destruction 
 tiiey had escaped! Great was the favotir which their 
 uprightness in the midst of " a crooked and perverse 
 generation,'' had secured them I Anxious was their 
 dread preserver to endear himself to them, by miti,:;a- 
 ling llieir lears, and encouraging their confidt nee in 
 him. When, therefore, the resentful waves had sub- 
 sided, and they had passed in the ark to the Ararat of 
 their safety, mercy triumi)hing hand in hand with jus- 
 tice, thus addressed them; "I do set my bow in the 
 . cloud, and ii shall be i\n- a token of a covenant, be-
 
 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 451 
 
 tucrn me and tlio rartli. And it shall come to pass, 
 when I brini;; a cloud over the earth, that the bow siiall 
 be seen in the cloud. And I will look upon it, that I 
 may remombrr the evnlaslin:; covenant between God, 
 and every livin;; creature of all llesh, that is upon the 
 earth." Such was the consecration of the Rainbow, 
 to be to the faitiiful a token of a covenant of mercy, 
 ])etween f.Jod and man, whenever dcsccndin.s; showers, 
 and a darkened sky, r«M-all his former v(n:;eance on the 
 URiiodly, or rxrite terrific apprehensions of his power. 
 Deli:il:tin;; t!ie mind u itii its mild beameous briiihtness, 
 it seems when it appeurs in ilie murky cloud, to speak 
 the covenant of which it i> th<' token; to look the 
 mercy, which it was ordained to si;;nify. 
 
 There is a harmony between all parts of the univer- 
 sal dominion of (lod: au<l froai t!u)se wliicli arc 
 known, emblems and analogies are borrowed, to fur- 
 nish us witii proper conceptions of those, with which, 
 Ave have no natural accpiaiiitance. Cireat s>stems and 
 dispensations, are dimly represented in small ones. 
 Kemote and spiritual objects, i)y those which arc; more 
 sensible. Thus, the flood whicii once scouri^ed the 
 earth, was typical of tiie linal coullai;ration, from 
 which shall rise the " new heavens and new earth, in 
 which dwelleth the ri:j;hteous." Tims, too, the pre* 
 servation of Noah and his family, was emblematic of 
 the salvation of the redeemed, in the ark of Christ's 
 Church. And thus, the si^niticance of the Rainbow, 
 which surrounds the throne of the Eternal, is sha- 
 dowed forth in the inferior one, to w iiosc beauty, and 
 hallowed use, we have just adverted. 
 
 We may consider it with respect to Him whom it 
 surroimds, and with respect to those, by whom it is 
 beheld. 
 
 As it respect the Deity, this emblem of mercy qua- 
 lifies him, if I may use the expression, to hv. belield by 
 these, w ho are admitted to the joys, and honours of his 
 abode, with perfect peace, composure, and delight.
 
 452 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 
 
 The most excellent, blessedness of his saints, consists 
 in the perpetual vision and fruition of his ?lory. It is 
 in " his presence, that there is fulness of joy, and at 
 his riiiht hand only can pleasures be found for ever- 
 more." But in his full, unqualified ftlory, to behold 
 Bini, would be too much for any created beinj;. In 
 his essential holiness, if he look unto " the moon, it 
 shineth not; yea, the stars are not pure in his sight;" 
 and in the li^ht of his unveiled wisdom, " his angels 
 are chariieable with folly.'' Mis tremendous power, 
 his transcendent purity, would be insupportable to the 
 most perfect of the " spirits of the just," if they were 
 not softened by the mild beams of mercy, to their trem- 
 bling perceiuions. But w Idle there is about him, a 
 lively end)lem of his goodness towards them; while he 
 is surrounded by the perpetual token of his covenant 
 of mercy in Christ .lesus, with the children of men; 
 they are not terrilied by the greatness of his power, 
 nor by his au ful justice, for he stands displayed as 
 their i)rotector wwd friend, and the garment of his ap- 
 pearance is the. pledge of love. Oftentimes the Deity 
 a))pears severe in his dispensations. Terrible is he in 
 the habiliments of judgemenu Therefore, to St. .lohn, 
 he who sal U|)om the tiirone of In^iveu, " was to look 
 upon like a jasper, and a sardine stone ;'' the former, 
 in its une(iualleil strength, a fit eniblem of his omni- 
 potence; the latter, in its fiery redness, expressive of 
 his tcrribleness in the day of his displeasure. But 
 with the dismaying hue of the jasper and the sardine, 
 are blended the emerald's mild beams. Of that agree- 
 able green, which refreshes and |)rotects the feeble 
 sight, this precious stone was chosen to represent to 
 us, that tender morey towards his children, which 
 envelopes all the perfections of the Most High. To 
 them, every aflbction is tem|)ered with mercy. 
 *' Though clouds and darkness are round about him," 
 and his dispensations, sometimes, fdl his most faithful 
 servants with dismay, yet the token of his covenant with
 
 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 453 
 
 them is ever in his view, and he " doth not afflict nor 
 grieve" them without regard to their final good. zVmidst 
 all the terrors of his resistless might, and S( verest dis- 
 pensations of his providence, tiiey may hold them still 
 upon God; they may approach him witli confidence; 
 they may rely upon his goodness, safe and delighted 
 in his presence, while there is a " rainbow round 
 about his throne, in si^lii like unto an emerald."" 
 
 Here the transition is natural, from the Being whom 
 it surrounds, to those u lio iiave an interest in the cov- 
 enant of mercy, of which it is tlie si2;nificant token. 
 While they continue pilgrims in this lower workl, it is 
 revealed to them, as an object of faith, and an assur- 
 ance to them of spiritual blessing and salvation. In 
 this life, evil has a constant Hood. Though, through 
 the long-sulfering of God, it does not rise to a deluge, 
 yet its waves unceasingly How, alarming both the vir- 
 tuous and the vicious. Hut, to tlu; former, there arises 
 light in the darkness. To the fiiiililul servants of the 
 Most High, who exert to the utmost thei)owershe has 
 given them, he shall give his Spirit to aid and crown 
 their exertions, and to bring them in safi'ty, out of eve- 
 ry trouble. In the seasons of tem|)tation, wUvn nature's 
 powers of resistance arc feeble, he has i)romised the 
 strength of his grace, to supjiort them against the 
 powerful tide. In times of affliction, when the waters 
 "come cv(Mi to their souls," his Si)irit is devoted to 
 preserve them, from fainting or sinking under the im- 
 petuosity of the waves. In the hour of death, when 
 the) are brought to the dark deep, at which nature 
 shudders, but which all must pass, he has promised his 
 stalT, to buoy his redeemed over the cold flood ; and 
 his Spirit, to conduct them to the saft; haven of the 
 opposite shore. Thousands have realized the gra- 
 cious promis<? ; and the pledge of its fulfilment to all 
 the ui)right, is the bow that perpetually surrounds his 
 throne. If they are faithful, he " will look upon it.
 
 454 COVENANT MERCltS OK COP. 
 
 that he may remember the everlasting covenant," and 
 " will never leave them, nor forsake them.-' 
 
 But it is to the saints and spirits, who have iluir 
 abode in the mansions of his house, that tliis rainbow 
 of the celestial world, is of most |)recious si^inificancc. 
 They, in the widest sense, survive the devastation of 
 a world. They have passed the iloods of vice, and 
 the cold waters of ihMlh. From the awful ventieaneo 
 upon the ungodly, before which "the lieavens sludl 
 vanish," "the ek'mcnls melt," and "the earth be. 
 burnt up," they are delivered. To liiem, the Deity 
 a|)pears ch)thed in the emblems of hne and salvation. 
 Whih' the token of covenanted mercy about him, tem- 
 pers his ineffjibh: perfections to their \iew, th«-y brhold 
 in it the evidence, lii;it tlie storms have subsided by 
 whicii they were endangered: nnd the sure picdfije, 
 that none of tlie imperfections, troubles, daiic;ers, and 
 deaths, whieii tiiey iiave escaped, shall ev* r a^ain dis- 
 turb their minds, or (Miilauiicr their existence. To 
 them, therefore, it is of most delightful iippearanee; 
 the seal and security of inconceivable lilies. They arc 
 made liaj)py, beyonil our conception, in the thou;;ht, 
 that the Deity, havim; graciously delivered ihcm from 
 the doom of a ?;uilty world, looks always U|)on a re- 
 membrancer of that covenant with the .*Son, hy which 
 iie hath oblii^ated himself, to perpetuate their felicity. 
 
 Such is the significance of that ;;lory of heaven. \\ it!i 
 a description of which, we are furnishrd in the text. 
 Conlirmini^ this illustration, it may be remarked that, 
 to Ezekiel was vouchsafed a vision of the majesty of 
 Deity in his liii;h abode, who beheld, with rapture, the 
 same glorious emblem about his throne, and thus de- 
 picts it: " As the appearance of the bow that is in the 
 cloud in the day of rain, so was the apjiearancc of the 
 brightness round about. This was the ii|)pearance of 
 the likeness ()f the glory of the Lord." 
 
 From the contemplation of this glorious object, 
 which .John beheld in the celestial world, we may
 
 COVENANT MERCIES OP GOD. 401) 
 
 learn ihc fuliioss of the felicity of " the saints in light." 
 To escape the wrath of heaven, and stand, saved by 
 his mercy from the wreck of this world, before the 
 Most High; to (hvcll forever in his i)resence, tilled with 
 the transijorting assurance, that their sins are forgiven 
 them, that the bitterness of death is past; to see in "a 
 rainbow round about" God's " throne," an infallible 
 tok<*i) that the Hoods of temptation, sorrow and death, 
 shall no more come nigh them, but that the future shall 
 bean eternal progress from knowledge to knowledge, 
 from glory to glory. This is the view which the 
 ♦Scriptures give us, of tin; ha|)piness to which their spi- 
 rits are brought, " who are departed in the true faith 
 of the luily name." 
 
 \\ iiich leads me to observe, secondly, from what has 
 been said, the importance of having an interest in that 
 covenant of safety, whose glorious token we have been 
 considering. ^V'hat are the |)erishable joys, the grovel- 
 ing pursuits, the fallacious vanities of this transient 
 iitate, wei:;hed in the balance of sober consideration, 
 with the realities of heaven which we have it in our 
 power to secure I Do we Hatter ourselves, that it will 
 be time enouu.h by and by, and trust to the sincerity of 
 our intentions: Time steals away faster tiian we 
 Ua\e our follies, or can mend our pace; and ever and 
 anon, some solemn monitor echoes the inspired in- 
 struction, " Now is the accepted time." Do we trust 
 that it will go well with us, ^\ithout our efforts? Un- 
 less a Hood should execute vengeance on the ungodly, 
 there woidd be little need of a bow, betokening safety 
 to the upri:;!»t. There is but one ark of preservation. 
 It is that prepared by the Redeemer. " None other is 
 given under heaven among men in which we can be 
 saved." If in this, we embark ourselves, our hopes, 
 and our can^s, we shall be safe amidst all the storms of 
 life. rro\id(ii((' will make us his charge, when he 
 visits the earth with aflliction. We shall ride trium- 
 phantly over death's dark waves, and resting under the
 
 A56 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 
 
 auspices of an olive branch, brought by the heavenly 
 dove, upon the mount of Clod, the transcendent beauty 
 of the si>iritnal raiid)0\v, shall refresh our sight, and 
 rejoice us with the assurance of eternal safety. 
 
 Which su?;gests to us, the sweet consolation our 
 subject affords, niid<M- tin* deparlinc^ of \ irtuous friends 
 from our si::ht and endjraces. How wisely does the 
 Apostle exhort, that we mourn " not as without hope, 
 for those that sleep in the Redeemer." When the 
 survivor of the flood was safely moored upon the 
 l)caccful mount, \\ iio could have wished the exullini; 
 Patriarch back to the threatening of the tumultuous 
 waves? When once he had beheld the bo\N , |)roclaim- 
 ing his perpetual safety from the waters, \\ ho could 
 have wisiied him again exposed to the cares and perils 
 which he had escaped? And when our friends have 
 "passed the waves of this tr()id)lesome world," in the 
 true faith and fear, and we have reason to trust that, 
 they have reached the celestial Ararat of rest and 
 safety, who, that does not think more of his own hap- 
 piness than of theirs, would wish them back to the 
 cares, the sorrows, and tii(^ dangers of this vain world? 
 Escai)ed to Heaven, from the storms and tempests of 
 the dark flood, and rejoicing with inconceivable joy in 
 the bright token " round about the throne," that the 
 waters of affliction and of death shall no more ap- 
 proach them, they rather demand our ;:ralulations than 
 our tears. Let us, then, my friends, cheerfully submit 
 to ihc dispensations of Ciod, w hatevcr they may be, 
 " knowing, that all things work together for good, to 
 them that love," and fear him. The *' rainbow" still 
 glows " about the throne" of the Kternal : and He 
 who sits ui)on the throne, is still a covenant (iod, with 
 the children of men. Let us, then, with patient perseve- 
 rance, " seek the kingdom of Ciod and his righteous- 
 ness;" assured from the experience of the laithfid, as 
 well as by the token which surrounds his throne, that 
 he is faithfid. who has promised."
 
 SERIMON LXXXIX. 
 
 ON THE DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 Pro%irbs, vii. 7, 
 
 / ilisrrrnrd among the youths, a young man void of 
 understanding. 
 
 Youth is the most important part of man's life. 
 If we compare life to a day, youth is the ^lorning of 
 it. Tlie faculties and feelings are then strong and 
 lively; the hours are favourable to activity; and he 
 who wastes them in idleness or /oily, will, probably, 
 find his noon perplexed, and his evening destitute of 
 the sweetest pleasure of the evening, a peaceful review 
 of the day. If we compare life to a voyage, youth is 
 the time of preparation. It is then we must choose 
 our course, and provide the stores which may sustain, 
 and the means which may improve or amuse us oa our 
 vor.. rr. -^^
 
 458 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 way; it is thrn our friends should bo made glad, by 
 seeing us well furnished for our destination, and the 
 credentials be obtnined, whieh may jirorurc us safety, 
 and favour, anrl distinction, in the rej;;ions to u liirfi wc 
 are bound. If we compare life to a year, youth is its 
 spring-time, upon which the felicity of all tin; other 
 seasons depend. It is then, the set-ds must ho sown, 
 and the |)lants cherished, whose fruits may delight us 
 in summer, enrich us in autumn, and sustain and 
 cheer us, when winter shall have arrived. Whatever 
 view we take of lit'o, youth is its most precious period ; 
 a period, which he who sufl'ers it to go by unimproved, 
 may afterwards beuail, but can never retrieve. The 
 day may revolve, and morniui; aiiain return. The year 
 may elapse, and other springs appear. Oceans may 
 be crossed, and the voyager may set out anew. But 
 to hmnan life, tiiere is but one niornin^, but <Sno em- 
 barkation, but one spring. Of the advantages which 
 youth may furnish us, wc must avail ourselves as it 
 passes; or else be destitute of them for ever. 
 
 The pictures, which the autlior of the book of Pro- 
 verbs has drawn, are most of them taken from real 
 life. Amongst tluni, 1 kiiou not one more striking 
 and afftctinu; than this, w liicji is prcs(Mifcd in tin- text. 
 In ti»e most int(>rcsting, important, and dangerous |)art 
 ol" human life, there is seen "among the youths, a 
 young man void of understanding.-' Before him, is 
 vice, beckoning him with alluring arts, to her iminire 
 abodes, lirhiiul hi:n, are advancing, obscurely, indeed, 
 but with surt and rapid step, shame, and remorse, and 
 misery, and ruin. Over this youth, I inwi-ine atj-els, 
 and spirits of the just, looking down iVoni the skies 
 with the most anxious concern. By his side, I behold 
 a lather, with a beating bosom and a furrowed brow, 
 observing, with unutterable auiiuish, the destruction 
 of his fondest hopes, hi a retired corner, I sec a 
 female figure. It is a mother on her bended knees. 
 feihe is looking to heaven with tears u|)on her cheek.
 
 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 459 
 
 and supplicating the Almighty to /brgive and save her. 
 child. Gracious God! Little do the young know, 
 how groat is the interest they excite in heaven and on 
 earth ! Seldom do they consider, liow deep is the cup, 
 which their conduct may fill ^vith wretchedness, or 
 bliss, both for themselres and others! 
 
 In looking rounu' upon this assembly, I behold the 
 greater part of it in the nx)rning of life. For them, 
 the following discourse i.* particularly designed. In it, 
 I shall set before 'theiv, some of the qualities which 
 indicate in youth, a *^ ant of wisdom and undersiand- 
 ins; and fondly 1 datter myself, that they will give me 
 that attention, v»hich a sincere rei^ard for their welfare 
 may claim, wr-atever the discourse may want of nov- 
 elty in its doctrines, or beautv in its drj'ss. 
 
 Foremost anion j; the (jualitirs which mark the un- 
 wise youth, is a disre::ard of the j)rinciples and offices 
 of reIi;;ion. it is lieli:;iou, wliicli must elevate, purify, 
 and adorn the human character. Sent from the courts 
 of heaven by the everlasiin:: Father, as the minister of 
 his best hlessiniis to mankind, she opens to the mind 
 the sublimest truiiis; she brings for the he;irt the most 
 precious comforts; she pours upon our paths the 
 brightest li;;ht; jhe conducis our stejjs to the hiiihest 
 bliss. Without lier aid, the young man cannot cleanse 
 his way; without her counsel, he cannot walk worthily 
 of his high facilities and destination; without her pro- 
 tection, he will be a prey to his i)assions: a prey to his 
 ine.\j;erience; a prey to the thousand delusions which 
 lie in wait to deceive, and the ten thousand vices 
 which lurk to destroy him. Manifest to all, as the 
 best guide of life, speaking in the name of the Al- 
 mighty, and seeking only the iminovement and ever- 
 lasting liap|)iiiess of mankind, where is the wisdom of 
 reiccting her counsels, and despising her restraints? 
 What is there of understanding, in setting at naught 
 the God wlio made heaven and earth, and hath power 
 to "destroy both soul and body in hell''' AVhat is
 
 400 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 there of understanding, in abandoning the altars, at 
 which our fathers have worshipped, and the service in 
 which they found peace ami salvation? What is there 
 of undfrstandins, in departing from those principles 
 and offices of reliiiion, Avithoat which, virtue has no 
 encouragement, sorrow \ms no consolation, society can 
 have no order, man has no certain hope? The youth 
 who contemns religion, indi'^ates theieby a deplorable 
 want of wisdom. His judgetnent is at variance with 
 his host interests. It is ai variance with the opinions 
 of the wisest and best men. It is-^t variance witii the 
 fountain of existence, and of every excellence. It is 
 at variance with God. " Cease, my son," says the 
 wisest of men, " to hear the instruction v.hich causeiU 
 thee to err from the words of knowledge. The fear 
 of the Lord is the be;;inning of w isdom ; a good un- 
 derstanding have all they that do thereafter; the praise 
 of it endureth for ever." 
 
 Another thing u hich marks the unwise youth, is, 
 his yielding hitnself up to the alhnements of vice and 
 folly. The young are surrounded with temptations. 
 Vice spreads for them, snares as enticing as they are 
 destructive. In the city, in the place of concourse, 
 they are exposed to courses, w hich are at once fasci- 
 nating and ruinous. 1 speak not of the ordinary vices, 
 into which they may be hurried by the contagion of a 
 corrupted atmosphere. 1 have now particularly in 
 view, the extravagant, maddi-ning rio; at the wine; 
 the impure haunts of illicit pleasures; aod those graves 
 of youthful excellence and promise, public gaming 
 tables. Dreadful is the demoralization, incalculable 
 are the evils which are born and fostered in these 
 vicious resorts. Here, the ingenuous blush of inno- 
 cence is for ever dissipated; and the barriers against 
 iniquity are thoughtlessly broken down. Here, arc 
 sacrificed and abandoned the holy instructions, which 
 fell from the parental lii) U])on the youthful heart, soft, 
 and wholesome as the dew of heaven. Here, the
 
 DANGERS OF VOUTH. 461 
 
 iianip of tlie Bein^ whom angels fear, is rudely pro- 
 faned; his laws which carry the most awful sanctions 
 are defiled ; and conscience, the kind monitor which he 
 has placed in the bosom, is trampled under feet. Here, 
 we may see the wrecks of genius, the destruction of 
 fortune, the immolation of character, the dissipation 
 of health, commencement of disquietude, progress of 
 discontent, weariness and despondency of soul, unre- 
 strained i)roilijiacy, and the consummation of wretch- 
 edness. Here — but I will proceed no further. Even 
 those, whom the frequency of the scenes has hardened 
 to their turpitude, even they would blush at the expo- 
 sure to the innocent and wise, of the criminality and 
 debasement to which they descend, in these vicious 
 resorts. And is not the youth " void of understand- 
 ing," who, in the earliest and most important period 
 of his life, suffers himself to be drawn into these vor- 
 tices of ruin? Reason, when she is heard, proclaims 
 the danger. Conscience, could she be listened to, 
 would remonstrate and entreat. The shades of pious 
 ancestors descend ; the sjiectres of victims, who have 
 been led on to destruction in those paths, appear, t6 
 check the youth in his career, and turn him into the 
 paths of safety. Yea, a voice is heard from the throne 
 of the Almighty, calling to him in the language of in- 
 spiration, " Enter not into tlic path of the wicked, and 
 go not in the way of evil nen. Avoid it, pass not by 
 it, turn from it and pass away." But passion, not 
 reason; blind inclination, not manly sense, govern his 
 conduct. There is nothing of the grace, or circum- 
 spection of wisdom in his stejis. He goeth to his 
 fatal indulgences, " as an ox goeth to the slaughter," 
 or " as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knowetli not 
 that it is for his life." And what will be the result of 
 his foolishness.^ "For all these things, God will 
 bring him into judgement." " The days will come, 
 and the years draw nigh, in which he shall say, he has 
 no pleasure in them." He will then look back with
 
 462 DANGERS OI YOUTH. 
 
 shame, upon the profligacies of his youth ; and, liappy 
 for him, if the Ahnighty do not leave him, in au lul 
 judgement, upon his abuse of the advantages of a 
 Christian education, to reap to the last, "the fruit of 
 his own ways, and to be fdled with his own devices." 
 Another thing whiclj indicates a want of wisdom 
 and understanding in the )oung, is, forming connec- 
 tions of friendship with unprincipled, and profli:;ate 
 persons. Sweet to the youthful bosom, are the plea- 
 sures of friendship. Noble and unguarded is the free- 
 dom, with which our minds and hearts are then 
 thrown open to those we love. And, on this account, 
 it is of unspeakable importance that the companions of 
 our earliest days, be such as may be worthy of our 
 confidence, and capable of promoting in us the quali- 
 ties and virtues, which e.xalt the human character. 
 But, by falling into intimacies with the vicious, this 
 source of generous joy, this spring of youth's most 
 exquisite [)leasure, may bo converted into a source of 
 disappointments and debasement. For he, who can 
 "wrong his God; n\ ho can renoimce the obbgations 
 of religion and virtue; who can disregard the feel- 
 ings of his parents, and virtuous connections, what 
 K^asonable ground can there be for confidence in 
 him, that he will not wrong his friend.'' Besides, 
 the influence and example of such a one, are fatal 
 to the fairest and best properties of youth. What 
 docs the voice of wisdom so often lament; over what 
 is experience so often seen shedding the tears of regret, 
 as the ruins which are occasioned by evil company? I 
 see an amiable }outh, upon whom kindred aflection 
 has fastened the fondest hopes. His talents are good, 
 the best princii)les were early instilled into his bosom 
 by parental assiduity; and, in a course of manly and 
 virtuous i)ursuits, he migiit be distinguished in society, 
 and an ornament amongst the works of (Jod. He 
 steps into the world. The uni)rincipled antl profligate 
 meet him; and with all the eagerness of fallen spirits 
 ))cnt on mischief, resolve to make him a partaker of
 
 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 463 
 
 their shame. His simplicity renders him their easy 
 prey. With fair si)C'ech, tliey gain access to his heart, 
 and witi) Ruilty artifices, they kindle his passions. 
 Tliey take him to the orgi(^s of folly. With blind 
 infatuation he follows them to the haunts of vice, and 
 to the abodes of pollution. His former principles, 
 they now laugh to scorn. His boldness in iniquity, 
 they extol and encouraj^e. They draw him, at length, 
 into all the dreadful excesses of their own guilt. And 
 lie, who was once like the young cedar of Lebanon, 
 fair and strong, and promising much growth and beau- 
 ty, is now like the scathed tree, shorn of his glory, 
 markt il with the vengeance of heaven, and exhibiting 
 a melancholy spectacle of worlhiessness, and untimely 
 drcny. Wlio sees not in this youth, " a young man 
 ^^n^\ of uiuh'rstandingl" He has chosen those for his 
 friends, who were destitute of principle and virtue, 
 and, therefore, were only capable of promoting his 
 dt'basement and destruction. And what is his recom- 
 pense, for the sacrifices they have led him to make? 
 Even to be reduced to the same level with them; to 
 be deserted by tiicm, in all probability, when they 
 have strii)t him of liis virtue, his fortune, and respec- 
 tability; and to be one day ashamed of them, at the 
 bar of the Almighty, as the panders of his vices, and 
 promoters of his misery. " IMy son, if sinners entice 
 thee, consent thou not." " He that walketh with wise 
 men shall be uisc; but a com{)anion of fools shall be 
 destroyed." 
 
 It is another indication of " a youth void of under- 
 standing," to be wholly occupied about the decorations 
 of his person, and the display of external pomp, or 
 accomplishments. Tlsere is an attention to the decen- 
 cies of dress, which is conducive to the well-being of 
 society. And if, by an attention to manners, men may 
 smooth the asperities of social intercourse, and render 
 themselves more pleasant and agreeable to each other, 
 this also is a laudable, and a Christian duty. But
 
 464 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 there are many, with whom the adorning of their per- 
 sons, is the principal source of self-satisfaction, and 
 the chief business of life. Man is an intcHiiicnl being. 
 He has glorious faculties to cuhivatc. lie has noble 
 duties to discharge. He has an immortal soul to im- 
 prove. He has eternal life to secure. What can more 
 strikingly indicate a want of that wisdom, by which 
 such a being should be distinguished, than to have his 
 faculties absorbed, and his ambition satisfied, with the 
 transient vanities of external attire? Besides, how 
 contemptible is the distinction, which is merely sn|)er- 
 iicial! The Bee, that gathers treasures from every 
 flower, has not the finest coating. The Eagle, that 
 soars on majestic wings to the birth of the morning, 
 has not the most glittering plumage. It is the Butter- 
 fly, that idly flutters on the passing breeze, which the 
 fopling emulates. The care of the body is more with 
 him, than the care of the mind. With usefulness and 
 virtue, with knowledge, and heaven to engage him, 
 behold him, the slave of a colour, or a fashion ; placing 
 his glory in that, in whidi inferior animals uiay often 
 vie with him, and flowers and |)lants excel him. Such 
 a young man, w horn dress alone occupies and delights, 
 will be claimed by folly as iier legitimate child. Wis- 
 dom rejects him ; iiit(>IIii;ence sighs over him, as "a 
 young man void of understanding." 
 
 I add, in the last place, that habitual idleness, is a 
 characteristic of an unwise youth. Idleness, at any 
 age, is the parent of vice, and unhap|)incss. in the 
 morning of life, it is peculiarly inexcusable and ruin- 
 ous. The youth, who has nothing to do, w ill learh to 
 do evil. He neglects to cultivate the nobh; i>owers of 
 his nature; he will be drawn into habits of dissipation. 
 All the advantages of early industry in procuring 
 knowledge, fortune, character, and esteem, lie will 
 forego, and he will, in all jjrobability, be restless and 
 dissatisfied; a burden to himself in the hours of reflec- 
 tion, ajid a useless cumberer of the ground. Nor can
 
 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 46o 
 
 he find any palliation of his folly in the plea, that he 
 finds nothing to do. There is ever enouiih to emi.loy 
 usefully, the hours of every one's life. Go; cultivate 
 and expand the noble faculties which thy Creator hath 
 given thee. Go; call into exercise and useful ai)pli- 
 cation the powers that lie dormant in thy nature. Go; 
 search the pa;;es of wisdom; traverse the regions of 
 trtith, and by acquisiiion of knowledge, lay tiie foun- 
 dation of future usefulness to thy country, and the 
 world. Go; seek the Most Hiiih God, thy Maker, 
 and Redeemer. Consider, studiously, what it is that 
 he requircth of then, in order that thou mayest spend 
 wisely the years of this fleeting life. Go; bring to the 
 habitation of thy par(Mits, the reviving fragrance of a 
 good name, and get to thyself the iiabit, in which thou 
 mayest emulate angels, the habit of industriously doing 
 good. Go, and do this, and much more that is equally 
 obvious and worthy of thee; before thou co!n|)lainest 
 in apology for thy indolence, that thou findest nothing 
 to do. Tuhappy the youth, in whose mouth is this 
 delusive plea. For him, the best years of life will 
 pass away, without furnishing tlie foundations of re- 
 spectability aiul comfort. On him, neither |)eace nor 
 prosperity, neither pid)lic esteem, nor self-satisfaction 
 will ever wait; but in their stead, that contemj)! 
 w Inch the common sense of society fastens u|)on those, 
 who have no object nor emi)loyment; and that weari- 
 ness, dissatisfaction, and self-r(!proach, to which the 
 Almighty, in his justice, generally exposes the inactive. 
 With great proj)riety, therefore, has experience always 
 recommended to the young, a definite pursuit, and 
 diligent occupation; and it is with striking, and aj)po- 
 site acuteness, that Solomon represents the field of the 
 slothful, as the same ground, with the vineyard of the 
 man " void of understanding." 
 
 Thus, I have set before you, some of the qualities 
 which indicate the character in the text. As you have 
 •accompanied me in these observations, you have per- 
 
 vui.. ii. ^0
 
 466 DANGERS OF YOUTH. 
 
 ceived, and felt, that they aro qiialitirs. by which hu- 
 man nature is degraded; prosperity, iini)rovenient, and 
 happiness frustrated; and the best hopes of society, 
 the ho|)es which depend upon the rising generation, 
 most unha|)|)ily bhisted. lie induced, then, my young 
 friends, to use, indiistriously, the morning of your bves. 
 Let not your attention be absorbed, and your ambition 
 satisfied, with external decorations and distinctions. 
 As you would avoid takiu'; fire brands into your bo- 
 soms, guard against admitting to the near intimacies 
 of friendship, the unprincipled and vicious. With a 
 discretion worthy of your rational, and immortal na- 
 turt'S, jlee youthftd hists, and avoid the resorts of pol- 
 lution and abasement. Above all iliiiii:>. know you 
 the Ciod of your fathers, and ser\e him uith a perfect 
 heart, and with a willing mind. C heri^h for rcliiiioii 
 that respect, which you would cherish for the guardian 
 of your race; and the arrows which are aimed at her 
 name or services, consiilcr them as aimrd at the shades 
 of your forefathers, and at the dearest interests of the 
 world. Then shall the hearts of your parents be 
 gladdened, with the knowledge of your wisdom and 
 discretion; then shall your country find in you, her glory 
 and dt fence; then shall the Church rest upon you, as 
 her strong and affectionate supporters; then shall your 
 l)OSoms be filled with self-approbation, and the peace 
 of God; then, at whatever period d(>alh shall remove 
 j'ou, to other duties, and other worlds, you shall not 
 depart prematurely; for honourable age is not that 
 which standeth in hMintli of da>s, nor that is measured 
 by number of years, hut WLsiloni is the gray hair unto 
 men, and unspotted life, is old age.
 
 SERMON XC. 
 
 ON THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOR IN 
 WINTER. 
 
 St. MarK} xiii. 16. 
 
 Pray yc that yourjiight be not in the winter. 
 
 OlJR blessed Lord is, in this chapter, informing his 
 discii)les, of the awful calamities which should come 
 upon Jernsal(Mn, after his ascension; calamities, "such 
 as had not been since the creation" of the world " to 
 that time, neither should be" afterwards. Of these 
 evils he forewarns them, and instructs them how to 
 act for their own esca|)e and preservation. Among 
 other precei)ts whicli he gave them, " Pray ye," says 
 the compassionate Saviour, " that your flight be not in 
 the winter.*'
 
 468 , FOOR IN WINTER. 
 
 At this inclement season,* these words do the more 
 forcibly strike our attention. Let ns meditate upon 
 them. Tliey will present some topics to our minds, 
 worthy of our consideration. 
 
 And, in the fust place, they remind lis of the seve- 
 rities of Winter. This cold and hoary monarch, is not 
 content with strippin:: the earth of all its ve::etativf 
 beauty, and coverin:; it with a drjary ?arl), he compels 
 the hein^is who have life, and i..!u'rent warmth, to how 
 b«Mieath his icy sceptre. The beasts are mute and 
 chilled; the birds lire to their coverts: and man, feel- 
 ing in winter the awful jtower of (Jod, cries, "who 
 can stand before his cold:" In this season, the ex- 
 posed, and the destitute, endure; peculiar hardships. 
 The wandering traveller, plods con)lorth'ss on his 
 way; the poor seaman, eyes the billows with horror, 
 and shivers in the storm. To the children of want, it 
 is a time of conipliratcd wretchedness. They fiM'I, 
 alas! that Winter furnishes povi iiy with fniiis. which 
 she has at no other season. 
 
 But, amidst all the severities of winter, we n)ay dis- 
 cover the benevolence of (iod. How wonderful is 
 that goodness which leads, instinctively, a part of the 
 animal tribes, iVom ilie inhospitality of a wintr> region, 
 to milder climes! How erpi.dly tender is that kind- 
 ness, which tempers the bleak and IrostN winds, to the 
 sides of the little birds, and more helpless beasts, u hich 
 he has iau;;ht to remain! How gracious is that pro- 
 vidence, which causes the earth, in the seasons of her 
 fertility, to produce a suflicieiit provision for the dreary 
 months, when wint(M- will cheek her fertility, and 
 bind her furrows with frost! How merciful is that 
 foretliou^ht, w liich has stored a marvellous element in 
 the forest, and the bowels of the earth, to furnisii man. 
 w hen the sun departs from his zenith, with a pleasant 
 
 This Dif<-oMr-.> r»r, |, readied in Clini:(.-.*ton, in n m.-Tui'^ xMnrT, iifirr • 
 fall of 3nox\
 
 PeOR IN WINTER. 469 
 
 substitute for the warmth of his beams. And when 
 We consider, how many liiiman beings are exposed, 
 some tossed at sea, amidst the horrors of the waves 
 ajifl fierce rasine; of the storms; others, naked on tlie 
 land to the scoiiiiiiniis of the tempest, and oppressed 
 with the hardships, beneath which, it should seem, 
 that human nature would sink; when we contemplate 
 these exposures of multitudes of our race, and behold 
 them, brought through all the daui^ers and sufferin^is of 
 the season, to the joys and hopes of spring, who sees 
 not, that the God who rides the winter, is the same 
 merciful God who rules the year. The displays of his 
 power, are, indeed, at this season, more awful. We 
 see him in the terrors of ids might. But, he is never- 
 theless kind. 
 
 Which leads me to another thing which the text 
 su^Kests, that to him should all men, and especially 
 those " who are in danger and necessity," apply for 
 protection " from the evils, to w hich they may be ex- 
 posed." It is God who causeth the winter. '* He 
 giveth snow like wool, and scattereth the hoar frost 
 like ashes." Again. " He scndeth forth his word, 
 and melleth them; he bloueth with his wind, and the 
 waters flow." He, therefore, has power to mitigate 
 the rigours of our condition. To him, the Redeemer 
 sends his disciples, for preservation from the calamities 
 to w l)ich wintiT migiit expose them. And to whom, 
 should those who are in danger or necessity, so confi- 
 dently go, as to their hcaveidy Father, who maketh 
 the wool to be warm on the lamb, "and feedeth the 
 young ravens whicii call upon him." Art thou, then, 
 exposed at this season upon the billows of the ocean, 
 or filled u itii distress for thy seafaring friends? Look 
 up u ilii devotion to that Almighty Being, who rides 
 upon the tempest which scours the deep. Art thou 
 fearful of the conflagration which so often increases 
 the calamities of this season? Use that prudence 
 which God lias ;^iven tliec for thy direction, and sup-
 
 470 I'OOR IN WINTER. 
 
 plicate the protection of tlie sliaclow of his wins;. Art 
 ihou amons the children of poverty, and for want of 
 food, of raiment, or of fuel, dost thou mourn in the 
 wintry blast? Go to the God who hearrth prayer. 
 With humility make thy wants known to him; entreat 
 him for his Son's sake, to compassionate thy distresses, 
 and if he have not some better purpose to accomplish, 
 by withholding; thy wishes, he will devise a way for 
 thy safety, and supi)ly thy wants. For he despiseth 
 not the prayer of the poor destitute; but when he 
 maketh his cry, his ear hearkeneth thereto. 
 
 This suggestion \\ ill be enforced, if we observe an- 
 other thine which the text most strikingly, and aflect- 
 ingly impresses upon our minds, vi/: the compassion- 
 ate nature of the blessed Redeemer, who is our Inter- 
 cessor at the riiiht hand of God. Every act of his 
 life was a display of tenderness and love. Whether 
 \ve consider him, descending from the bosom of his 
 Father, and taking our nature upon him for the reco- 
 very of our race from perdition; or contemi)late him 
 wiiile he dwelt upon earth, making it iiis meat and 
 drink to enable the poor to forget his poverty, and the 
 afllicted to rememlxM- her misery no more; or behold 
 him on tiie cross, seeking, with persevering benevo- 
 lence, the i)ardon and salvation of his wretched ene- 
 mies; \\v. have sufficient cNidcnce of the loveliness of 
 compassion, and that it dwelt in the bosom of our 
 Lord in an unspeakable perfection. JJut, in the little 
 incident which the text records, there is a refined sen- 
 sibility, an exquisite tenderness, which will touch 
 • very feeling heart. He knew how rigorous are the 
 severities of winter. Me knew how multiplied and 
 bitter are the miseries whieh it briims upon those, 
 Nvhom adversity has laid bare to its inclemencies. For 
 his poor disciples his heart was afflicted. He dreaded 
 rhui t!ie ealamities, in which they were about to be 
 involved, should be aggravated by the hardships and 
 sufferings which attend tiiis season. Hi^ kindness
 
 POOR IN WINTER. 471 
 
 anticipated their distresses, and he taiiglit them where 
 to look for preservation. " Pra)^ ye," said their affec- 
 tionate Master, " that your flight be not in the winter.'^ 
 This comjiels me to remark, in the fourth phicc, 
 that if tlie same mind be in us, which was in Christ 
 Jesus, this season will excite in our bosoms, a sj'mpa- 
 thefic concern for all tiiose who are exposed to its 
 sorrows. Now, will the ^ood Christian offer his peti- 
 tion with increased fervor, " for all who travel by land 
 or by water." Now, will his heart be moved, and 
 his hands be opened, by the distresses of the poor and 
 ni-edy. 'I'he howling wind, seems to remind us of 
 their necessities. The cold and siorm, knock at our 
 hearts in their behalf. Ah! my brethren, you sit by 
 your firi'sides sheltered from all the inclemencies of the 
 winter. Vour clothing is warm and good. Your 
 houses are comfortable about you. And your tables 
 are covered w ith food, " enough, and to sj)are." You 
 know nothing; of the miseries of want. Come with 
 me, to the habitation of poverty. It is rugged, and of 
 wretched api)earance. But it contains your fellow 
 beings. Do not decline then to enter. Here, in the 
 cheerless chamber, dwells the poor widow. She 
 "gathers for herself a few sticks," and dresses '' a 
 handful of meal;" and the rest of the day, sits shiver- 
 ing over the embers; full often reatly, in the bitterness 
 of her anguish, to wish to herself that she might die. 
 Are you moved by this scene of misery? Alas! my 
 fri(uids, it is but one of many, which may be found in 
 our world. Come, and I will take you to another 
 habitation. There, in that bleak and confused hut, 
 dwells a whole family of wretchedness. I cannot tell 
 where is he, who should be the support of the house- 
 hold. Th(! mother sits stunned with cold, and sorrow, 
 unable to give food to but one of her offspring, and 
 that from her own im|)overished bosom. Her chil- 
 dren, are crying around her. They are hungry. They 
 arc cold. And when the long wished for night ar-
 
 472 POOR IN WINTER. 
 
 rives, and they betake themselves to tlie thin and rag- 
 ged bed, who can say, whether sleep, sometimes a 
 soother of the wretched, is able to jiive to this chilled 
 and famished family, any respite from their woe. Oh! 
 ye, whom providence has blessed with abundance; 
 who have riches more, much more, than you use; 
 think of what iiappiness you may be the authors, by 
 bestovvins here a portion of that ueaith, which you 
 must presently leave to, you know not whom! And 
 ye, who haw only a competence of the p;ood thinjxs of 
 this life, is there nothing superfluous in your comforts, 
 or is any j^ratificaliou you may forego, to be compared 
 in value and delight, nith "the blessinji of those who 
 ■were ready to perish ;" which, bflieve me, is often 
 heard and seah-d by the God of heaven. We arc 
 commanded, my brethren, to " charge you who have 
 this world's goods, to be ready to sive, and glad to 
 distribute;" and 1 know not, how I luay more |)o\ver- 
 fuUy enforce tiiis char;;e than by rcmarkin;;, that unless 
 this spirit of compassion, which was in the bosom of 
 Christ Jesus, and would have preserved his |)oor dis- 
 ciples from the sutlerin^s of winter, be also in you, 
 himself hath di'clared you are none of his. 
 
 Such, are some of the topics, which this interesting 
 passaiic in the Saviour's life, is caKidated to suggest. 
 Let me iiope, they are not imijcrtincnl to the season, 
 and will not be improfitabic. Vou are about to com- 
 memorate the fi;reatcst act of divine compassion, in 
 the incarnation of the Son of CJod, and many of 
 you, are i)reparing yourselves to go up and be feasted 
 with the bread of life, at the table of your Lord. Be- 
 nevolence, is the c;arment in wiiicii, on that day, every 
 Christian should appear. It has been a godly custom 
 of the Church, to exact an oflVring of her sons, at that 
 festival, for the poor of " the household of faith." 
 Need I say that, they, at this season, need your liberal 
 assistance. Their number is not lessened, though 
 those, alas! are diminished, who were wont to con-
 
 POOR IN WINTER. 473 
 
 tribute to thoir relief. The expenses, too, of living, 
 are so much enhanced, that what would formerly have 
 supplied a day, will now scarcely furnish a meal. 
 With these considerations, Christians, enlarge your 
 charity. Bring to the feast, an offering worthy of the 
 occasion, and worthy of the acceptance of God. It is 
 not merely in behalf of the poor, though I gladly ap- 
 pear the hiuiible organ of their wants, but it is also 
 " in Christ's stead, that I beseech you," " be ye mer- 
 ciful, as your Father iu heaven is merciful." 
 
 FINIS.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMEvS. 
 
 The Right Rev. Nathanifl Bowen, D. D. Bishop of the Pro. Epis. Church in the 
 Diocess of South-Carolina. Two Copies. 
 
 The Rev Paul T. Grnai!>, St. Johns, ColltMon. 
 
 The Rev. ChriMoplier K. tJadndrn, I) D. Rector of St. Philip's Church. 
 
 The Rev. AIMon (mIiIios, .\ssi?itaiit .Mini'slcrof St I'liilip's Church. 
 
 The Flev. William S. Wilson, .Minister of St. Johns, CoJh'ton. 
 
 The Rev. Francis P. Delavaux, Rector of St. Mntthcw'.s Parish. 
 
 The Rev. Thomas Osborne, Professor of Lan^ages, College of Cincinnati, 0. 
 
 The Rev. Christian llanckell, Rector of St. Paul's Church. 
 
 The Rev Henry (liMies, Minister of All Saints, WaccamHW. 
 
 The Rpv.Joim W. Clmnlcr, .Minister of I'pper and LoiverSt. Mark's. 
 
 The Rev. John B. Camphell, Rector of St. Helena, Beaufort. 
 
 The Rev. Salmon Wlieaton. Rector of Trinity Church, Newport, R. I. 
 
 riie Rev. Kdwanl RutieiJge, Connecticut. 
 
 The Rev. Maurice H. Lance, Rector of Prince George, Winyaw. 
 
 The Rev. Patrick H Kolker, Rector of Trinity Ciiurch, Columbia. 
 
 The Rev. Joseph .M. Gilbert, Rector of the F.pis. Churcli, Kdialo Island. 
 
 The Rev. Henry Anthoti, St. Bartholomew's Purisli. 
 
 The Rev. Milwnrd Poison. Rector of St. James', Goose-Creek. 
 
 The Rev. Rodolphus Dickinson, .Minister of St. James', and .St. Peter's, Green- 
 ville, and the Church in Pendleton District. 
 
 The Rev. Thomas Gates, D. D. St. George's Parish. 
 
 Ihe Rev. John Jacob Tschudy, Rector of St. John's, Berkley. 
 
 The Rev. .\ndrew F'owler, Charleston. 
 
 ihe Rev. Frederick Palcho, .M. D. .Assistant Minister of .St. Michael's Church.
 
 476 
 
 subscribers' names. 
 
 Cliarleston. 
 
 Alexander, David 
 
 Bav, John 
 
 Broufiliton, Mbs Charlotte 
 
 Baron, Mrs. Sarah 
 
 Baron. Miss 
 
 Barnn, Miss Isabella 
 
 Brailsford, M. D.--Edward 
 
 Boone. Mrs. Sarah 
 
 Bee, .John Siniinons 
 
 Bacol. Mrs, H S. 
 
 Bacot- Tho. W. 
 
 Brou>rhton. Miss Ann 
 
 Bonneau. .lohn E. 
 
 Brisbane, William 
 
 Blake John H 2 copies. 
 
 Betliiine, Mrs. Margaret 4 copies. 
 
 Butler, Mrs. M. 
 
 Brouiihton. Mrs. Mary 
 
 Bulow, Major .F. .f. 
 
 Crafl-^, .Major William 
 
 Campbell, M . D —Isaac Motte 
 
 Crocker. Trancis Shaw 
 
 Crocker, Doddridge 
 
 Cross, Col. Grorjte W. 
 
 Cro«s. .Mrs. Swrah 
 
 Cox, .Mrs. Elizabeth 
 
 Courtney, .Mrs E C. 
 
 Cohen, Mrs Mordecai 
 
 Charleston Library Society. 2 cop. 
 
 Cop)pll,M:..i..r.lohnS. 
 
 Clarkson, William 
 
 Da\v.5on, Charles P. 
 
 Dawson,. John 
 
 Deas, Thomas II. 
 
 Deas, llcni-y 
 
 Dens. David 
 
 Davidson, Mrs. Eliza 
 
 Dawson. J. H. 
 
 Dawps. Iln^h P. 
 
 DeJoiiph. Mrs. II. 
 
 Dr.iyton. LL. I). — Hon. John 
 
 Dallon, Dr. James 
 
 Elford, James .M. 
 
 Edwards, i'dward H. 
 
 Elliott. Benjamin 
 
 Eckhard, Jacob 
 
 Eckhard, George B. 
 
 Frost, Mre. Thomas 
 
 Eraser, .Miss Elizabeth 
 
 Eraser, .Miss Judith 
 
 Eraser, Miss Susan 
 
 Eitzsimons, Mrs. C. 
 
 Ferguson, Mrs. Ann 
 
 Grimke. Mrs. T. S. 
 
 Grimke, Thomas S. 
 
 Grei^ory, .Mi-s. Mary C. 
 
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 GriHitli, Mrs. 
 
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 Gadsden, John 
 
 Green, Mrs. Marj' Ann 
 
 Grefi;son, Thomas 
 
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 Graves, Mrs. Colleton 
 
 Hiieer, Hon. Daniel E. 
 
 Hnt;er. Mrs D E. 
 
 Huger, Daniel 
 
 Hall .Miss Susan 
 
 Hicham, Thomas 
 
 Hevv»iird. .Mrs. E. 
 
 Heywar.l, .Mrs. C. .M. 
 
 Horry Htm. Elins 
 
 Henwood. Samuel 
 
 Howard, Col. Kobert 
 
 Hayiie, Mrs Elizabeth 
 
 Holmes, .Mrs. Ann (Jlover 
 
 Heriot Mrs So|>hia H. 
 
 Harth. Jdin 
 
 Harlh. William 
 
 Hamilton, .Mrs E. and Dau^htere 
 
 Hamilton, juii .Major Jumci* 
 
 H<irry, Elias Lynch 
 
 Howard. John 
 
 Jervey, Tho. H. 
 
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 .lohnsf)n. iM I> — Jo<M'ph 
 
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 Ker^liHW. Charles 
 
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 Kennedy. Edward 
 
 l.,ee, F'rancis I. 
 
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 .Murnll .Mi-s. M.irtlia 
 
 Milrli.ll. J. din W. 
 
 .MilrlM-ll. W. II. 
 
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 .Muiiliew >. Mrs. .Martha .\ 
 
 .Middl.ton.Mrs Alicia 
 
 .^boiiuaiill. .lo<eph 
 
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 Morris. jiin Thomas 
 
 Martin, .Mis^ Su'^an II. 
 
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 Oliphanl. I):i\i! 
 
 Pvne, .M!>
 
 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. 
 
 477 
 
 Prioleau, Samuel 
 
 Pierre, MissFloride 
 
 Pririfle. Mrs. J J. 
 
 Peters. Mrs. Mary 
 
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 FoUfr. lolin 
 
 Perry. Mrs Ann D. 
 
 QuMsb, Mrs. R. H. 
 
 Riitledfje, Mrs. HarrieU P. 
 
 Kicliardson, .Mrs S. 
 
 Roijpcl, Miss 
 
 Rhind, Mrs. Elizabeth 
 
 Rus<p|l. Natfianiel 
 
 Rout, Williarn Cleo. 
 
 R<)l)t'i1sr)ii, Mrs. Ann* 
 
 Rf'Hd, .M. D— William 
 
 R'ad, llarlestoii 
 
 Ray, .James 
 
 Reid, Georpe B. 
 
 Smith, W. M. 
 
 Smiih, Mrs. Susan E. 
 
 Smith, sen. Thomas 
 
 Smith, Kliz. P. 
 
 S.dimidt. .Mrs. M. E. 
 
 Stiles, C(i|M'l'iiid 
 
 Shackelford, W. F. 
 
 Smith. Petf-r 
 
 Schultz. John 
 
 Sl«npy, John 
 
 Stanyarne, Mi.'ss Ann% 
 
 S< alirook. Benjamin 
 
 Turnliull. Rolierl .1. 
 
 Theological Lilirary, Pro- Kpis. So. 
 
 Taylor, Josiah 
 
 Thomas, James 2 copies 
 
 Valk. Ca|i|. Jacob R. 
 
 Vanderhorst, C'ol. Richard W 
 
 AN ard. Mi^s Ann 
 
 Ward, Mrs. .Mary G. 
 
 \\ iliington, A S". 
 
 \\ illiinan, .Mrs. C 
 
 U ill i man, Mrs. A. E. 
 
 Wainwright, Mrs. Ann 
 
 VVainwriplit, Miss Sarah Dewar 
 
 Waring, Si. D. — Horatio 
 
 Waring. Mrs. Jane L. 
 
 \\ akefield, Miss Sarah Cannon 
 
 W ilson. iM. D — Samuel 
 
 Weston, Plowdt-n 
 
 \\ agner, Aliss Caroline 
 
 VN aring, sen. Thomas 
 
 Washington. Mrs Jane 
 
 Waller. Capt. William 
 
 Woddrop, Mrs. Ann 
 
 .5// Saints, IFacramaic . 
 
 \llston, William A. 
 Tucker, I. IF. 
 Wiihrr.s. Robert 
 
 Prince George, Winyaw. 
 
 Blyth, E. L. 
 
 Eraser, B. P. 
 
 Hugerr Hon. Benjamin 
 
 Keith, John 
 
 Mitchell. T. R. 
 
 M Farlane, Mrs Mary 
 
 Trapier, Mi-s. 8. F. 
 
 Trapier, W. W. 
 
 W ithers, Francis 
 
 St. John's, Berkley. 
 
 Ball, Isaac 
 Corbetl, Thomas 
 Dubose, San:uel 
 Gaillard, James 
 Gonrdine, M. D. — Theodore 
 Porcher, Isaac 
 Ravenel, M. D. — James 
 Ravenel, Rene 
 Ravenei, M. D. — Henry 
 
 St. Mark's. 
 
 Brailsford, Capt. 
 Cold. .ugh, Col. 
 Doughty, William C. 
 Dasis, Capt John G. 
 (harden, Mrs Alexander 
 Hfxt. Mrs 
 
 .Manning, Col. Richard 
 Richardson, Col James B. 
 Richardson, CharJes 
 Richardson, Mrs. John 
 
 St. Matthew's. 
 
 Darby, Artemas B. 
 Hart,' Mrs. Charlotte 
 Hrabowski, Thomas S. 
 Heat ley, Col. Andrew 
 Lovell, James 
 MCord, John T. 
 Richardson, Mrs. Rachel 
 Richardson, Edward 
 Stewart, James 
 Thompson, William S. 
 
 Stateburgh. 
 
 Hooper. Mrs. Mary 
 Huger, Col. Francis K. 
 Joor, Beiij. G. 
 May rant, sen. Mrs. John 
 
 Pocolaliiro. 
 IS'eufvi He, Edward
 
 478 subscribers' names. 
 
 Barnwell District. ^^« '**«* 
 
 Bull,W.R. 
 
 Columbia. 
 
 Fisher, Mrs. Mary 
 Hampton, Mrs. Ann 
 Herbemont, Mrs. 
 Mann, John Spencer 
 Stark, Robert 
 
 St. Stephen's. 
 
 Stephens, Charles 
 
 SI. Georges. 
 
 Waring, Mrs. Sarah 
 
 Chrisl Church. 
 
 Hort, William 
 
 St. Johns, Colleton. 
 
 Gibbes, Mrs. Lewis L. 
 Jenkins, Micnh 
 
 Beauforl. 
 
 Guerard.Mrs. Ann 
 
 67. Barlhohni'ir « 
 
 Fell, William W. 
 
 Bailey, Benjamin 
 Bailey, Edward 
 BrtiJpy, Charles 
 Bailey, Henry 
 Bailey, Thoma-s 
 Beckett, William 
 Dickson, I. 
 Hannahan, John 
 Hiroii.L 
 
 Jenkins, Ri>l>ert 3 
 Jenkins, Micali 
 Jenkins, Joseph E. 
 Laurence, .Mrs. 
 Mii.lu-ll, M I) —Edward 
 .Mikell.JohnX*. 
 Megcett, W illiam 
 Schullz, Snnih 
 Seabrook, sen. William 
 5H>abrook, Andrew D. 
 Seabrook, sen. Joseph 
 Slnyly, Chriitian 
 Seabru«k, W.B. 
 
 J\'§ldtes, Mitt. 
 Land^dale, Bcojaniin C. 
 
 Setcport, R. F. 
 
 Champlin. Mrs. Miu^ret 
 Cardinor, Mrs. Sarah 
 Miles, Mr-* Lytlia 
 
 MtLson, V " .t 
 
 Mtiintor I B 
 
 N.irtliai; I

 
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