UNIVERSITY Of CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 jp2i^il?;0
 
 SERMONS, 
 
 The late Rev. SAMUEL DAVIES, m. a. 
 
 Mtl) emttan. 
 
 V O L. I. 
 
 * r c n
 
 Minlfii by N. BIGGS CrancCourt, Fleet-Strect.
 
 SERMONS 
 
 ON 
 
 IMPORTANT SUBJECTS; 
 
 BY THE LATE REVEREND AND PIOUS 
 
 SAMUEL DAVIES, a.m. 
 
 Sometime President of the College in New Jersey. 
 
 JTtftf) emttmn 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 To which are now added, 
 
 THREE OCCASIONAL SERMONS, 
 
 NOT INCLUDED IN THE FORMER EDITIONS, 
 
 MEMOIRS AND CHARACTER OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 AND 
 
 TWO SERMONS ON OCCASION OF HIS DEATH, 
 
 BY TIIL 
 
 REV. DRS. GIBBONS AND FINLEY. 
 
 VO L. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR W. BAYNES, 54, PATERNOSTEK ROW; VERN'OR AND HOOD, 
 POULTRY, AND D. OGILVY AND SON, HOLBORN. 
 
 1 804.
 
 Vi intcd by N. BIGGS, Crane.Court, I lcet-Streec.
 
 
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 C*Z 
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 C 1 I 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 JO EJV Sermons, if any in the English language, are 
 better calculated for usefulness than those of President 
 Davies. A rich vein of evangelic truth, a bold and 
 masterly eloquence, together with the most close and 
 pungent addresses to the heart, characterise these dis- 
 courses. They have already passed through four large 
 editions, the last of which has been out of print some 
 time ; and from the great request for them by ministers 
 and others of various denominations, they had become so 
 scarce and dear, that a copy could not be procured at less 
 than double the price of the present edition. The con- 
 tents of the former editions in five, are here printed in 
 ^ three volumes ; zvhich will enable the proprietors consi- 
 > derably to lozver the price, and of course greatly extend 
 the circulation. 
 
 We have no doubt but those who peruse these sermons 
 6 with the least degree of attention, will see that thefol- 
 
 * loxving character of the author by JDr. Finley is not 
 exaggerated. " His natural genius was strojig and 
 
 j masculine. His understanding zvas clear ; his memory 
 Lj retentive, his invention quick ; his imagination lively 
 c ' z and florid ; his thoughts sublime', and his language 
 
 elegant, strong and expressive.'" 
 
 <GtH16
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT is with real pleasure I now send into the world a 
 * Collection of Sermons, by that eminent and amiable 
 man, and my most esteemed and beloved friend, the 
 Rev. Mr. Samuel Davies. I hope I may be the 
 honoured instrument of promoting the great interests 
 of vital evangelical godliness, by communicating to 
 the public a number of Discourses, which appear to 
 me admirably calculated to increase the knowledge 
 and power of real religion in the minds and hearts of 
 men. 
 
 Those who knew and heard Mr. Da vies will need 
 no further proof than the perusal of the Discourses 
 themselves, that they are the real productions of the 
 Author to whom they are ascribed. The sun shews 
 himself to be the sun by the very beams with which 
 he irradiates and enlivens mankind, and is easily dis- 
 tinguished from other luminaries by his surpassing 
 lustre. 
 
 I have prefixed to these Volumes a Character of 
 the Author, as depicted by the Rev. David Bostwick, 
 A. M. of New York ; a Sermon upon occasion of his 
 death, by that excellent man the Rev, Dr. Samuel
 
 P R E F A C E. 
 
 Finley, Mr. Davies's successor to the presidency of 
 New Jersey College : I have also re-published the 
 Discourse I preached to my people the next LordV 
 day after I received the distressing news of Mr. Da- 
 vies's decease. 
 
 The idea given of our Author in the Character and 
 my Sermon; and above all, the just and lively picture 
 which Dr. Finley has exhibited of him in his Discourse 
 upon his death, render it unnecessary to enlarge thjs 
 Preface with an account of Mr. Davies's merit and 
 accomplishments ; I shall therefore only add, that I 
 most sincerely wish that young ministers more espe- 
 cially would peruse these Volumes with the deepest 
 attention and seriousness, and endeavour, in conjunc- 
 tion with earnest prayer, for divine illumination and 
 assistance, to form their Discourses according to the 
 model of our Author ; in which, if I mistake not, are 
 the following excellencies, most worthy of imitation : 
 
 A calm and elaborate inquiry into the connection of 
 those passages of scripture which he chooses for his 
 subjects, and a close investigation, when it appeared 
 necessary, into the meaning of his text by researches 
 into the original language, apd fair and learned criti- 
 cism ; a careful attention to the portions of sacred writ 
 upon which he proposes to treat, so that his discourse 
 as naturally rises from his theme as the branch grows 
 from the root, or the stream issues from the fountain. 
 In every page, and almost every line of Mr. Davies's 
 Sermons, his readers may discover the subject he at 
 first professed to handle; and he is ever illustrating, 
 proving, or enforcing some truth or another evidently 
 contained in it ; a reigning regard to the divine
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 word, by comparing and confirming scripture by scrip- 
 ture, by taking the sacred text in its easy and natural 
 sense, and by apt and pertinent citations of passages 
 from holy writ, both in the proof and amplification ; 
 at the same time that our Author by no means omits 
 a regard to the dictates of natural conscience and rea- 
 son, while he either makes his appeal to them, or in- 
 troduces passages from Pagan antiquity on proper oc- 
 casions, and to answer some valuable purposes; an 
 observance of method and order, so as to proceed, like 
 a wise builder, in laying the foundation, and regularly 
 erecting the superstructure, and yet diversifying his 
 method and order, by making them at sometimes open 
 and express, and at other times indirect and implicit; 
 a free, manly diction, without any thing of a nice and 
 affected accuracy, or a loud-sounding torrent of al- 
 most unintelligible words on the one side, or a loose 
 negligence, or mean and low-creeping phrases, un- 
 worthy of an admission into the pulpit, on the other; 
 a rich vein of evangelical doctrine and promise, 
 with a large infusion at proper seasons of practical 
 duty, or awful denunciation of the divine wrath against 
 impenitent and incorrigible sinners ; an impartial re- 
 gard to the cases of all his hearers, like a good 
 steward distributing to all their portion of meat in 
 due season; animated and pathetic application, in 
 which our Author collects and concenters what he 
 lias been proving in his Discourses ; and urges it with 
 all the powers of forcible address and melting persua- 
 sion to the heart. 
 
 Such appear to me to be the excellencies of Mr. 
 Daviks's Sermons. May young ministers more par- 
 ticularly copy them with divine success, and be, like
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 him, " Burning and shining Lights" in their several 
 stations, till, having guided and animated their re- 
 spective charges in the way to heaven, they and their 
 people may at last " shine forth, like the sun, in the 
 kingdom of their Father I" 
 
 Such are the sincere Prayers of 
 The Editor, 
 
 THOMAS GIBBONS. 
 
 Hoxton-Square, 
 Oct. 21, 1770-
 
 i - - . ii > , i -^ 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 THE Rev. Mr. Samuel Davies, late President of 
 the College of New Jersey, was born on the 3d 
 day of November, a. d. 1724, in the county of New- 
 castle, on Delaware. His father was a planter, who 
 lived with great plainness and simplicity ; and sup- 
 ported the character of an honest and pious man to 
 his death. I lis mother was greatly distinguished for 
 her eminent piety, some time before the conception of 
 this favourite only son earnestly desired such a bless- 
 ing , and as she then had only born a daughter, who 
 was near five years old, she had special occasion for 
 the exercise of her faith, in waiting for the divine 
 answer to her petition. In this situation she took 
 example from the mother of the prophet Samuel, and 
 " Vowed a vow unto the Lord; that if he would in- 
 deed give her a man-child, she would devote him to 
 bis service all the days of his life." 1 Sam. i. 11. 
 
 It may well be supposed that the parents received 
 this child as from God, and that the mother especially.
 
 XII MEMOIRS OF 
 
 who had reason to look upon him as a token of the 
 divine favour, and an express answer to her prayers, 
 would, with the greatest tenderness, begin the rearing 
 of this beloved plant. As there was no school in the 
 neighbourhood, she herself taught him to read : and, 
 although he was then very young, he is said to have 
 made such proficiency as surprised every person who 
 heard it. 
 
 He Continued at home with his parents till he was 
 about ten years old ; during which time he appeared 
 to have no remarkable impressions of a religious kind ; 
 but behaving himself as is common for a sprightly 
 towardly child, under the influence of pious example 
 and instruction. He was then sent to an English 
 school, at some distance from his father's, where he 
 continued two years, and made great progress in his 
 learning ; but, for want of the pious instruction with 
 which he was favoured at home, he grew somewhat 
 more careless of the things of religion. 
 
 It appears, that about this time of life, careless as 
 he was, he made a practice of secret prayer, especially 
 in the evening. The reason (as he tells it in his 
 Diary) why he was so punctual in the evening was, 
 that " he feared lest he should perhaps die before 
 morning." What is farther observable in his prayers 
 at this time is, that " he was more ardent in his sup- 
 plications for being introduced into the gospel-minis- 
 try, than for any other thing." 
 
 It cannot exactly be ascertained when Mr. Davies 
 began his ministry ; but he speaks (Letter to the Rev.
 
 THE AUTHOR. Xl- 
 
 Mr. J. Bellamy on the State of Religion in Virginia, 
 p. 38.) of a glorious display of divine grace in and 
 about Somerset county in Maryland, of its beginning, 
 as he thinks, in the year 1745 by the ministry of Mr. 
 Robinson, and of its being carried on by sundry mini 
 sters that preached transiently there. " I was there 
 (says he) about two months, when the work was at 
 its height, and I never saw such a deep and spreading 
 concern among people in my life as then appeared 
 among them. The assemblies were numerous, though 
 it was in the extremity of a cold winter ; and fre- 
 quently there were very few among them that did not 
 give some plain indications of distress or joy. O ! 
 these were the happiest days that ever my eyes saw, 
 or are, I fear, like to see." If Mr. Davies was there 
 (and I suppose he was there as a minister) in the year 
 1745, he was but twenty-one years of age. However, 
 he was sent by the Presbytery of Newcastle to Vir- 
 ginia, in the year 1747, when he was but twenty- three 
 years of age. Here he continued till the year 1753, 
 when he was chosen by the Synod of New York, at 
 the instance of the Trustees of New Jersey College, 
 as a fit person to accompany the Rev. Mr. Gilbert 
 Tennent to Great Britain and Ireland, with a view 
 of soliciting benefactions for the said College. In 
 this mission he was highly successful, for to his ser- 
 vices, added to the pious and liberal charity of the 
 friends of Religion and Learning in Great Britain, 
 received upon that occasion, does the College of New 
 Jersey, in a great degree, owe its present flourishing 
 condition. 
 
 On his return home, he again entered on his labo- 
 rious and beloved task of preaching the gospel to his
 
 XIV MEMOIRS OF 
 
 several congregations ; and continued in this work 
 until the year 1759, when he was elected President 
 of the College of New Jersey, in the room of the 
 Rev. Mr. Jonathan Edwards. The College, before he 
 came, had been in an unhappy situation ; partly owing 
 to the length of that melancholy period between the 
 death of President Burr and his accession, and partly 
 to the evil dispositions and practices of a few mem- 
 bers of the society. President Burr died in Septem- 
 ber, 1757: and although Mr. Edwards was elected a 
 few days after, he did not take upon himself the 
 government of the College till February, 1758; and 
 about a fortnight after took the small-pox, of which 
 he died in March following. Mr. Davies was not 
 initiated in his office till the latter end of July, 1759; 
 so that the College lay under the obvious disadvan- 
 tages of a bereaved condition for almost two years. 
 But the prudent measures taken by President Davies 
 soon surmounted these disadvantages ; so that in a 
 few months a spirit of emulation in learning and mo- 
 rality, as had been usual, evidently characterized the 
 students of Nassau-Hall. 
 
 While he continued President his labours were great; 
 and his application to study was necessarily more in- 
 tense than that of his predecessors. For he came to 
 this scat of the Muses when its learning, by the emi- 
 nent abilities of President Burr, was advanced to a 
 very considerable degree; and he had just emerged 
 from a sea of ministerial labour in various places, 
 wherein a common genius would have been able to 
 have made but little improvement in academical learn- 
 ing. Besides, the speedy passage he made through 
 the course of his studies, previous to his entering into
 
 THE AUTHOR. XV 
 
 the -ministry, made his after- application the more ne- 
 cessary for so important and elevated a situation. He 
 was determined not to degrade his office, but to be in 
 reality what his station supposed him; and accord- 
 ingly exerted himself to the utmost. The labours of 
 the day seemed to him rather an incentive to study 
 than to rest in the night ; for he commonly sat up till 
 twelve o'clock, and often later, although he rose by 
 break of day. The success was proportionable ; for, 
 by the mighty efforts of his great genius, and by dint 
 of industry, he left the College of New Jersey at his 
 death in as high a state of literary merit as it ever had 
 been in since its first institution. 
 
 It is a piece of justice due to his memory to remark, 
 that the few innovations he made in the academical 
 exercises, were certainly improvements upon the plans 
 of his predecessors. Among other things, the monthly 
 orations he instituted deserve particular notice. In 
 order to give his pupils a taste for composition, and to 
 form them for public speaking, he directed the members 
 of the senior class each to choose his subject, and 
 compose a popular harangue, to be delivered publicly 
 in the College-Hall before the Masters and Students, 
 and as many of the inhabitants of the town as chose 
 to attend. When each had written his discourse he 
 brought it to the President, who made such observa- 
 tions and corrections as he judged proper: and, after 
 their discourses were spoken, they severally attended 
 him again for Ins remarks on their delivery. About 
 six of the young gentlemen usually delivered their 
 orations in the afternoon of the first Wednesday in 
 every month to crowded audiences ; and it is hard to
 
 XVI MEMOIRS OF 
 
 say, whether the entertainment of the hearers, or the 
 improvement of the students, was the greater. 
 
 There is reason to believe, that the intense applica- 
 tion with M'hich Mr. Davies attended to the duties of 
 his office was one great cause of his death. The habit 
 of his body was plethoric: and it is not to be doubted 
 but that his health for some years had very much de- 
 pended upon the exercise of riding, to which he was 
 necessarily obliged while he lived in Virginia, though 
 even then he had several severe fevers, supposed to 
 arise principally from his application to study in the 
 intervals of riding abroad. When he came to the 
 College he scarcely used any bodily exercise, save 
 what was required in going from his own house to 
 Nassau-Hall, which is a space about ten roods, five or 
 six times a day. 
 
 In the latter end of January, a. d. I76I, a bad cold 
 seized him, and for his relief he was bled. The same 
 day he transcribed for the press the Sermon, which was 
 soon after published, on the Death of the late King, 
 and the day after preached twice in the College-Hall ; 
 by all which the arm in which he was bled became 
 much inflamed, and increased his former indisposition. 
 On the Monday morning after, at breakfast, he was 
 seized with a violent chilly fit, which was succeeded 
 by an inflammatory fever, and, in ten days (4th Fe- 
 bruary) brought on the period of his important life. 
 
 Although premonitions of death in the present state 
 of the world are seldom, if ever, given to mankind ; 
 and they who are disposed to interpret ordinary occur*
 
 THE AUTHOR. XVII 
 
 rences into such premonitions, when, by something 
 similar in the event those occurrences would seem as if 
 predictive, generally discover their weakness ; yet the 
 circumstances of the death of an eminent person are 
 commonly very acceptable to the public ; and for this 
 reason it may not be amiss to mention an anecdote 
 which Mr. Davies-more than once took notice of in 
 his last sickness. 
 
 An intimate friend of his, a few days before the be- 
 ginning of the year in which he died, in conversation, 
 told him that a Sermon would be expected from him 
 on the New-Year's day ; and, among other things, 
 happened to mention that the late President Burr, on 
 the first day of the year wherein he died, preached a 
 Sermon on Jer. xxviii. 16. Thus saith the Lord, this 
 year thou shall die ! and after his death, the people 
 took occasion to say it was premonitory ; upon which 
 Mr. Davies observed, that " although it ought not to 
 be viewed in that light, yet it Avas very remarkable." 
 When New -Year's day came, he preached ; and the 
 congregation were .not a little surprized at his taking 
 the same text of scripture. Upon his being taken 
 with his last sickness, about three weeks after, he soon 
 adverted to this circumstance, and mentioned it as re- 
 markable that he had been undesignedly led to preach, 
 as it were, his own funeral sermon. 
 
 It is much to be lamented that the violence of the 
 disorder, of which this excellent man died, deprived 
 him of the regular exercise of his reason the greater 
 part of the time of his sickness', otherwise the public 
 would undoubtedly have been gratilied with his re- 
 
 Voj.. I. b
 
 XVlll MEMOIRS OF 
 
 marks on the views of an approaching eternity ; and 
 would have received another evidence of the superior 
 excellency and power of that religion, which alone 
 can support the soul, and make the (otherwise gloomy) 
 prospect of death cheerful. For the issues of this 
 decisive period, his life had been eminently calculated 
 from his youth. It abundantly appears, that from 
 twelve or fourteen years of age, he had continually 
 maintained the strictest watch over his thoughts and 
 actions, and daily lived under a deep sense of his own 
 unworthiness, of the transcendent excellency of the 
 Christian religion, of the great importance of a public 
 spirit, and the necessity of exerting it in promoting 
 the general good. Even in his delirium his mind dis- 
 covered the favourite objects of its concern, the pros- 
 perity of Christ's church, and the good of mankind : 
 his bewildered brain was continually imagining, and 
 his faltering tongue expressing some expedient for 
 these important purposes.
 
 CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 By the Rev. DAVID BOSTWICK, m, a. 
 OF NEW YORK. 
 
 " TT will doubtless be acknowledged on all hands, 
 * that a decent respect, and a proportionable tri- 
 bute of honour are due to the memory of those de- 
 ceased, whom the God of Nature and Grace had 
 furnished with every valuable endowment, and in his 
 providence had advanced to an extensive sphere of 
 usefulness while they lived : and that this was emi- 
 nently the case of my reverend friend and brother, no 
 one, who had the happiness of his personal acquaint- 
 ance, or could rely on the testimony of universal fame, 
 will pretend to dispute. 
 
 " I am, however, truly sensible that to exhibit a 
 just portraiture of President Davies, and draw t'h.5 
 
 Z>2
 
 XX CHARACTER OF 
 
 lineaments of his amiable character, is a task too 
 arduous for me, and would require a genius not in-r 
 ferior to his own ; but however, the friendship with 
 which he was pleased to honour me, the esteem and 
 veneration I had for him while he lived, with the just 
 sense I still entertain of his uncommon worth, unitedly 
 demand the present exertion of my feeble attempts, 
 especially as his death has taken place in the inter- 
 vening time between the preaching of the following 
 Discourse, and its publication, which was committed 
 to my care. 
 
 " Mr. Davies was a man of such uncommon fur- 
 niture, both of gifts and grace, and adorned with 
 such an assemblage of amiable and useful qualities, 
 and each shining with such distinguished lustre, that 
 it is truly hard to say in which he most excelled, 
 and equally hard to mention one valuable or useful 
 accomplishment in which he did not excel. A large 
 and capacious understanding a solid, unbiassed, and 
 well-regulated judgment : a quick apprehension a 
 genius truly penetrating a fruitful invention an 
 elegant taste, were all happily united in him, and 
 constituted a real greatness of mind, which never 
 failed to strike every observer with an agreeable sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " To this extraordinary natural capacity were ad- 
 ded the improvements of a learned and polite educa- 
 tion, which, though in the early years of his study 
 it was embarrassed with many peculiar disadvantages, 
 yet by the strength of his genius, and dint of hide-
 
 THE AUTHOR. XXI 
 
 fati^able application, was cultivated to such a degree 
 of elesrance and refinement, that attracted the notice 
 and admiration of all the friends of science wherever 
 he was known. 
 
 " And as the powers of his mind were enriched 
 with every valuable human accomplishment, so they 
 were eminently improved by the influence and efficacy 
 of sanctifying grace; in consequence of which they 
 were all sincerely devoted to the service of God, and 
 the good of mankind. In the early stages of his life, 
 it pleased a Sovereign God to call him effectually from 
 his natural alienation to the knowledge and love of 
 himself, to take a powerful possession of his heart, 
 and seize all the faculties of his active and capacious 
 soul for his service. Upon finishing therefore the 
 course of his preparatory studies, he entered into the 
 sacred employment of the gospel-ministry, and so- 
 lemnly dedicated himself with all his superior talents 
 to the work of the sanctuary. 
 
 <c In the exercise of this sacred office, his fervent 
 zeal and undissembled piety, his popular talents and 
 engaging methods of address, soon acquired him a 
 distinguished character, and general admiration. Scarce 
 was he known as a public preacher but he was sent, 
 on the earnest application of the people, to some of 
 the distant settlements of Virginia, where many of 
 the inhabitants, in respect of religion, were but a 
 small remove from the darkness and ignorance of un- 
 cultivated heathenism, and where the religion of Jesus, 
 which he endeavoured to propagate, had to encounter 
 
 h 3
 
 X5C11 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 with all the blindness, prejudice, and enmity, that 
 are natural to the heart of the most depraved sinner. 
 Yet under all apparent disadvantages, his labours 
 were attended with such remarkable success, that 
 all opposition quitted the unequal combat, and gave 
 way to the powerful energy of the divine spirit, which 
 was graciously pleased by his ministry to add many 
 new subjects to the spiritual kingdom of our glorious 
 Immanuel. 
 
 " The work of the ministry was Mr. Davies's great 
 delight; and for it he was admirably furnished with 
 every valuable qualification of nature and grace. 
 Divinity was a favourite study, in which he made a 
 proficiency uncommon for his years, and yet he gene- 
 rally preferred the most necessary and practical bran- 
 ches of it to the dark mazes of endless controversy 
 and intricate disputes; aiming chiefly at the con- 
 version of sinners, and to change the hearts and lives 
 of men by an affecting representation of the plain, 
 but most important, interesting truths of the law and 
 the gospel. His talent at composition, especially for 
 the pulpit, was equalled by few, and perhaps ex- 
 ceeded by none. His taste was judicious, elegant, 
 and polite, and yet his discourses were plain and 
 pungent, peculiarly adapted to pierce the conscience 
 and affect the heart. His diction was surpassingly 
 beautiful and comprehensive, tending to make the 
 most stupid hearer sensibly feel, as well as clearly 
 understand. Sublimity and elegance, plainness and 
 perspicuity, and all the force and energy that the 
 language of mortals could convey, were the ingre- 
 dients of almost every composition. 1 1 is manner of 
 delivery, as to pronunciation, gesture, and rsodulati
 
 THE AUTHOR. XXiji 
 
 of voice, seemed to be a perfect model of the most 
 moving and striking oratory. 
 
 " Whenever he ascended the sacred desk, he seemed 
 to have not only the attention, but all the various 
 passions of his auditory entirely at his command. 
 And as his personal appearance was august and vene- 
 rable, yet benevolent and mild, so he could speak 
 with the most commanding authority, or melting ten- 
 derness, according to the variation of his subject. 
 With what majesty and grandeur, with what energy 
 and striking solemnity, with what powerful and al- 
 most irresistible eloquence, would he illustrate the 
 truths, and inculcate the duties of Christianity ! 
 Mount Sanai seemed to thunder from his lips, when 
 he denounced the tremendous curses of the law, and 
 sounded the dreadful alarm to guilty, secure impe- 
 nitent sinners. The solemn scenes of the last iud<r- 
 ment seemed to rise in view, when he arraigned, 
 tried, and convicted self-deceivers, and formal hypo- 
 crites. And how did the halm of Gilead distil from 
 his lips, when he exhibited a bleeding dying* Saviour 
 to sinful mortals, as a sovereign remedy for the 
 wounded heart, and anguished conscience ! In a 
 word, whatever subject he undertook, pursuasive 
 eloquence dwelt upon his tongue; and his audience 
 was all attention, ilc spoke as on the borders of 
 eternity, and as viewing the glories and terrors of 
 an unseen world, and conveyed the most gran4 and 
 affecting ideas of these important realities: realities 
 which he then firmly believed, and which lie no^v 
 sees in the clearest light of intuitive demonstra- 
 tion. 
 
 hi
 
 XXIV CHARACTER OF 
 
 " The unusual lustre with which he shone could 
 not long be confined to that remote corner of the 
 world, but soon attracted the notice and pleasing 
 admiration of men of genius, learning, or piety, far 
 and near: and therefore on a vacancy at. the col- 
 lege of New Jersey, occasioned by the decease of 
 two former Presidents*, in a close and awful succes- 
 sion, he was elected to that important office in the 
 year 17^9- 
 
 " Distressing as it was both to him and his people, 
 united in the strongest bonds of mutual affection, to 
 think of a separation, yet a conviction of absolute 
 duty, resulting from the importance of the station, 
 from the various concurring providences, and lastly, 
 from the unanimous advice of his reverend brethren 
 convened in synod, determined him to accept the 
 proposal. Great and pleasing were the expectations 
 with which we beheld him enter into that exalted 
 sphere of service; yet I may boldly say that they 
 were vastly exceeded in every respect by the reputable 
 manner in which he discharged the arduous trust. 
 The progress he made in all the branches of science, 
 with his capacity and diligence to acquire new im- 
 provements, enabled him to conduct the youth with 
 great advantage through the several stages of useful 
 and polite literature. And, while he endeavoured to 
 improve the minds, he was not less solicitous to re- 
 form the hearts and lives of his pupils, to make them 
 good as well as great, and fit them for both worlds. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Aaron Burr, in 1757, and the Rev. Mr. Jonathan 
 Edwards, who succeeded him, and died the winter following.
 
 THE AUTHOR. XXV 
 
 He knew that religion was the brightest ornament of 
 the human, and the fairest image of the divine na- 
 ture, that all true benevolence to men must have its 
 foundation laid in a supreme love to God, and that 
 undissembled piety in the heart was the best security 
 for usefulness in every character of life. It was 
 therefore his constant endeavour to promote the eter- 
 nal as well as the temporal good of the youth in- 
 trusted to his tuition, not only by his fervent preach- 
 ing and exemplary life, but by inculcating at the 
 proper seasons the worth of their souls, and the vast, 
 the inexpressible importance of their everlasting in- 
 terests. 
 
 " In the government of the college, he had the pe- 
 culiar art of mingling authority and lenity in such a 
 due proportion, as seldom or never failed of the de- 
 sired success. Hence he was revered and loved by 
 every member of that collected family over which he 
 presided. His performances at public anniversary com- 
 mencements, as they never failed to do honour to 
 the institution, so they always surprised his friends 
 themselves by exceeding, far exceeding their most 
 sanguine expectations. His poetical compositions, and 
 his elegant taste for cultivating the Muses, gave 
 additional embellishments to those performances, and 
 greatly heightened the pleasure of his crowded audi- 
 tors. 
 
 <l His acquaintance with mankind, his easy and 
 polite behaviour, his affability and condescension, his 
 modesty and candour, his engaging manner of address, 
 Avith his sprightly and entertaining conversation, all
 
 XXVI MEMOIRS Of 
 
 the genuine fruits of a most benevolent heart, rendered 
 him greatly beloved through the large circle of his 
 acquaintance, and as greatly admired even by stran- 
 gers, whose occasional excursions gave them only the 
 opportunity of a transient interview. 
 
 " His natural temper, amiable in itself, and sweet- 
 ened with all the charms of divine grace, rendered 
 him peculiarly dear in all the relative characters of 
 social life, whether as an husband, a father, a tutor, 
 or a friend. 
 
 " With this excellent man at the head of the col- 
 lege, what pleasing prospects did we form of the ex- 
 tensive usefulness of that infant-seminary, both to the 
 church, and to the commonwealth ! He was, in short, 
 all we could wish or desire in a man, to promote the 
 valuable interests of learning and piety, and render 
 the college reputable and useful. 
 
 ' But, alas ! all his ample furniture of gifts and 
 graces, all the amiable qualities of the mind, with the 
 advantages of the happiest constitution of body, 
 could not secure him from the fate of mortals. He is 
 gone: he has quitted this inferior world amidst the 
 unfeigned sorrows of his family, his friends, the col- 
 lege, and our country : he lias taken his flight to his 
 native skies, and joined with kindred spirits in the 
 regions of a glorious immortality, while his remains 
 are gathered to those of his predecessors, in the dark 
 and dreary repository of the grave.
 
 THE AUTHOR. XXVli 
 
 " O the unutterable and extensive loss to a distress- 
 ed family, to a bereaved college, to the ministry, to 
 the church, to the community, to the republic of 
 letters, and in short to all the valuable interests of 
 mankind !"
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Funeral Sermon on the Death of Mr. Da vies 1 20 
 
 A Sermon, preached at Haberdasher's Hall, occasioned 
 by Mr. Daviess Death 21 44 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 The Divine Authority and Sufficiency of the Christian 
 
 Religion. 
 
 Luke xvi. 2/ 31. Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that 
 thou wouldst send him to my father s house: for I have five brethren : 
 that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of 
 torment. Abraham saith unto him, they have Moses and the prophets; 
 let them hear them. And he said, Nay, father Abraham ; but if one 
 went unto them from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto 
 him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be 
 persuaded though one rose from the dead. 45 77 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 The Nature of Salvation through Jesus Christ ex- 
 plained and recommended. 
 
 John iii. 2(5. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten 
 So?i, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish,, but have ever- 
 lasting life. . 78 102
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 Sinners intreated to be reconciled to God. 
 
 2 Cor. v. 20. Now then we are ambassadors of Christ, as though God 
 did beseech you by us : we pray you, in Christ's stead, Be ye reconciled 
 to God 103- 124 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 The Nature and Universality of Spiritual Death. 
 
 Ephes. ii. 1. and 5. Who were dead in trespasses and sins. Even when 
 we were dead in sins. 125 148 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 The Nature and Process of a Spiritual Life. 
 
 Ephes. ii. 4, 5. But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love where* 
 with he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us 
 together with Christ, 149 168 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 Poor and Contrite Spirits the Objects of the Divine 
 
 Favour. 
 
 Isaiah lxvi. 2. To this man will J look; even to him that is poor, and of 
 a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word. \Qq 185 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 The Nature and Danger of making light of Christ 
 and Salvation. 
 
 .Matt. xxii. 5. But they made light of it. 186 201 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 The Compassion of Christ to weak Believers. 
 
 Matt. xii. 20. A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking fax shall 
 he not quench. 202219
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 The Connection between Present Holiness and Future 
 
 Felicity. 
 
 Heb. xii. 14. Follow- Holiness, ivithout which no man shall see the 
 Lord __ , 220 234 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Glories of Jesus Christ. 
 
 John xviii. 37. Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a King then ? 
 Jesus answered, thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I 
 torn, and for this cause I came into the world, that J should bear wit- 
 ness unto the truth 235 263 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 Things unseen to be preferred to Things seen. 
 
 2 Cor. iv. 1 8. While we look not at the things which are seen, lut at the 
 things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal? 
 lut the things which arc not seen are eternal 264 278 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 The sacred Import of the Christian Name. 
 
 Acts xi. 26. The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch 279 ' 
 
 295 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 The Divine Mercy to Mourning Penitents. 
 
 Jer. xxxi. 18, 19, 20. / have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself 
 thus, Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised as a bullock unac- 
 customed to the yoke; turn thou me, and I shall be turned; for thou 
 art the Lord my God. Surely after that I was turned, I repented; 
 and after that I was instructed I smote upon my thigh : I teas asham- 
 ed, yea, even confounded, because J did bear the reproach of my youth. 
 Is Ephraim my dear sou ? is he a pleasant child ? for since J spake 
 dgainst him, J do earnestly remember him still: therefore my bowels 
 are troubled for him ; I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the 
 Lord . . 296 317 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 Christ precious to all true Believers, 
 
 i Pet. ii. 7. Untayou then fore which believe, he is precious 318 338
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON XV. 
 
 The Danger of Lukewarmness in Religion. 
 
 Rev. ili. 15, 16. I hwiv thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot . / 
 would thou wert cold or hot. So then, because thou art lukewarm, and 
 neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth 339 354 
 
 SERMON XVI. 
 
 The Divine Government the Joy of our World. 
 
 psalm xcvii. 1. The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice; let the multitude 
 of isles be glad thereof 355 3/1 
 
 SERMON XVII. 
 
 The Name of God proclaimed by himself. 
 
 Exodus xxxiii. 18, If). And he said, I beseech thee shew vie. thy glory. 
 And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will 
 proclaim the name of the Lord before thee 
 
 with chap, xxxiv. 6, 7. 
 
 And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed, The Lord, the Lord 
 God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness 
 and truth; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and trans- 
 gression, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty 3/2 391 
 
 SERMON XVIII. 
 
 God is Love. 
 
 1 John iv. 8. God is Love 3p2 415 
 
 SERMON XIX. 
 
 The General Resurrection. 
 
 John v. 28, 2f). The hour is coming in the which all that are in the 
 graves shall hear his voice, and .shall come forth ; they that have done 
 good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto 
 the resurrection nf damnation - 410" 430
 
 The Disinterested and DevotedChristiax. 
 
 A SEIMON 
 
 Preached at Nassau-hall, Princetown, Mai/ 28, 1/6 1 ; 
 Occasioned by the Death of the Rev. Mr. Davies, 
 
 Late President of the College of New Jersey, 
 
 by SAMUEL FINLEY, d. d. 
 
 President of the said College. * 
 
 Rom. xiv. 7, 8. For none of us liveth to himself, and no man 
 dieth to himself, For take titer we live, zee live unto the Lord ; 
 or whether we die, we die unto the Lord ; whether ice live there- 
 fore, or die, we are the. Lord's. 
 
 AS the very dear and reverend man whose premature 
 and unexpected death we, amongst thousands, 
 this day lament, expressed his desire that, upon this 
 mournful event, a Sermon should be preached from 
 these words, he plainly intimated his expectation that 
 the audience should be entertained, not with an orna- 
 mented funeral Oration, but with such an instructive 
 discourse as the text itself naturallv suggests. The 
 subject being his own choice, 1 cannot doubt but this 
 friendly audience will the more close!}' and seriously 
 attend, as conceiving- him, though dead, yet speaking* 
 to them the solemn truths it contain-;. For having 
 been admitted into the full knowledge of his religious 
 principles, I may presume on speaking many of the 
 sentiments he intended from this text, though not in 
 his more sublime and oratorial manner. 
 
 ^ lien I reflect on the truly christian, generous, yet 
 fttr.ct Cat hohci ,.m that distinguishes this whole chap- 
 ter, and how deeply it was imprinted on Mr. Davics's 
 own spirit, and influenced the course of his lite, I 
 am read)' to conclude, thai perhaps no text couid he 
 more aptly chosen on th .: occasion. It expirees the 
 
 Vo iJ
 
 2 Funeral Sermon 
 
 very temper that should be predominant in all, and 
 which actually is so in every pious breast. 
 
 That we may apprehend the scope and genuine sense 
 of the words, it is necessary to observe, that warm 
 debates at that time arose between the Jewish and 
 Gentile converts, about the difference of meats and 
 days established by the Mosaic law ; and so sharp was 
 the contention, that they were mutually disposed to 
 exclude each other from Christian communion. The 
 Gentile being under no bias from the powerful preju- 
 dices of education and custom, was sooner and easier 
 convinced of his freedom from that yoke of bondage, 
 and despised the Jew as weak to admiration, and scru- 
 pulous to a fault. The Jew, on the other hand, per- 
 suaded that these ancient divine institutions were still 
 obligatory, censured and condemned the Gentile as 
 inconscientious, and profanely regardless of God's 
 awful authority. 
 
 The apostle, in order to quell the growing strife ma- 
 turely determines that, tho' the Gentile held the right 
 side of the question, yet both parties were wrong as to 
 their temper of mind, and the manner in which they 
 managed the controversy ; and that they laid an undue 
 Stress on the matters of difference, and carried their 
 censures higher than the merits of the cause would at 
 all justify. He therefore recommends moderation to 
 both, and sets before them sufficient reasons why they 
 should judge of each other more charitably, since they 
 agreed in all those principal points that would justly 
 denominate them " the servants of the Lord." For 
 if they would reckon it a bold intrusion to call before 
 their tribunal, condemn, and punish another man's 
 servant, over whom they had no legal authority ; how 
 much more arrogant and presumptuous must it be so to 
 treat a servant of the Lord ? ver. 4. 
 
 Again, let them be so candid as to persuade them- 
 selves, that, unless the contrary be evident, they who 
 differ from them, mistaken or not, are influenced by 
 a conscientious regard to the divine glory, ver. 6. This 
 admitted, their personal censures will necessarily he 
 milder, even though their judgment of the points in 
 debate continue unaltered ; and this must be admitted
 
 on the Death of Mr. Denies. 3 
 
 if they can charitably judge that their respective oppo- 
 nents are real christians; for in all such the governing 
 principle is, " not to live to themselves, but to the 
 Lord. For none of us liveth to himself, and no man 
 dieth to himself '; for whether we live, we live unto the 
 Lord; or whether zee die, zee die unto the Lord ; zvhe- 
 ther we live therefore, or die,,zve are the Lord's. Now 
 if no pious person lives merely to please himself, we 
 ought not to judge that his aversion from or attach- 
 ment to certain meats and days arises only from a 
 selfish humour; but on the contrary, since his whole 
 life is governed by an honest regard to the will of 
 God, it is altogether credible that in his different con- 
 duct respecting meats and days, he acts from the same 
 principle ; for whatever is true of the general, is also 
 true of all the particulars contained under it. Suppose 
 a man to be a real Christian, you then suppose him to 
 be of an upright heart, of a tender conscience, and 
 one who dares not to neglect, nor live in contradiction 
 to known duty. He makes it his main business to 
 please God : and shall we be implacably disgusted 
 because he does not rather endeavour to please us ? 
 God forbid. 
 
 Thus, while our text affords a convincing argument 
 for moderation in judging of other christians, who 
 differ from us in circumstantials, it teaches us what 
 should be the principle and end of our life, and that 
 both negatively and positively. We may not live nor 
 die to ourselves, but to the Lord. 
 
 I. " We may not live to ourselves." 
 
 This proposition supposes, what is a demonstrable 
 truth, that we are not the absolute proprietors, and 
 therefore have not the rightful disposal of our lives. 
 1 or since we Could exert no kind of efficiency in bring- 
 ing ourselves from nothing into existence, we could 
 not possibly design ourselves for any end or purpose of 
 "tir ov, :i. Hence it is evident, that, who.se property 
 sot ver v, e are, we belong not to ourselves ; consequent- 
 ly j is the highest indecency to behave as though we 
 were accountable to none other. As rationally may 
 v. e claim self-existence and independence. It will 
 Uicrciore bean eternal solecism in action to aim chieily
 
 Funeral Sermon 
 
 tr.own glory, seek only our own things, or pursue 
 t eagerly our own pleasures. Right reason itself 
 
 atom 
 
 most 
 
 peremptorily denies that the dictates ot our own minds 
 
 are our supreme rule of conduct, or that our own will 
 
 is our law ; much le.ss may we subject ourselves to the 
 
 government of blind passions, or indulge to irregular 
 
 appetites. 
 
 We are not at liberty, nor have we any authority to 
 employ either the members of our bodies, or powers of 
 our souls, at pleasure, as if we had originally designed 
 their use. Hence it will appear criminal, on the one 
 hand, to waste our time, or expend our strength in 
 useless exercises ; and; on the other, to allow an idle 
 negligence of necessary business. Our tongues them- 
 selves, those unruly members, must be patient of re- 
 straint; for it is the language only of haughty rebels 
 to say, Our lips are our own, who is Lord over us ? 
 Psalm xii. 4 Our very thoughts are to be confined 
 within prescribed limits, and all our rational powers. 
 statedly exercised, not in merely curious and amusing 
 researches, but in matters the most useful and impor- 
 tant. 
 
 It also follows-, that the product of our activity, 
 whatever is acquired by the exertion of these powers, 
 ought not to terminate in ourselves. Are we in pur- 
 suit of learning, that ornament of human minds, it 
 should not be with a view only to shine more conspicu- 
 ous, but that we may serve our generation to better 
 advantage. Has God blessed " the hand of the dili- 
 gent"" with abundant riches ? We are not to consider 
 them as the means of gratifying vanity, or fulfilling 
 the desires of the flesh, and of the mind : for we must 
 honour the Lord with oar substance, Prov. in. 9. lias 
 God clothed any of us with power? This is not a 
 discharge from his service, nor a freedom from subjec- 
 tion to his laws, but a stronger obligation to duty, as 
 it gives us an opportunity of more extensive useful* 
 ncss. 
 
 Finally. Since we were not the authors of our lives, 
 we can have no right to take them away. We have 
 no power to determine, either the time or kind of 
 death, any more than we can ward off, or suspend its
 
 on the Death of Mr. Darks. -5 
 
 Mow when commissioned to destroy. Therefore, amidst 
 all the miseries that can make life itself an insupport- 
 able burden, and all the glorious prospects that can 
 make us impatiently pant for dissolution, it must be 
 our determinate purpose, that all the days of our ap- 
 pointed time, we will wait till our change come. Job. 
 xiv. 14. 
 
 As these particulars, examined by the strictest rea- 
 son, will appear to be immediate consequences from 
 self-evident principles, and must all be confessed by 
 him who acknowledges that * he -is not his own lord 
 and master,' it will follow as an evident truth, that 
 ' the evangelical duty of self-denial is founded on the. 
 everlasting reason of things.' 
 
 Reflecting farther on the preceding observations, 
 they force upon us the disagreeable conviction, that 
 our whole race has revolted from God, and risen up 
 in rebellion against him. " The world evidently lies 
 in wickedness ;" for the allowed practice of men sup- 
 poses principles, which, they themselves being judges, 
 must confess to be palpably false and absurd. Ihey 
 act as if they believed they were made for themselves, 
 and had no other business in life but the gratification 
 of their respective humours. One exerts ail his powers 
 and spends all his time in nothing else-hut endeavour- 
 ing to amass heaps of worldly treasure : another, by 
 riotous living, disperses what had been collected with 
 anxious care and assiduous labour. Some live in malice 
 and envy, whose favourite employment is calumnv 
 and wrathful contentions, as if they had been created 
 for no other end but to be the pests of society : others 
 blaspheme the name of (Jod, despise his authority, 
 mock at religion, and ridicule serious persons and 
 tilings. One has no other purpose in life but sport 
 and merriment: another eats to gluttony, and drinks 
 to besottedness. Vet all these, and nameless ranks of 
 other daring offenders, would he ashamed in a christian 
 country to profess it as their serious belief, that they 
 > ' re made by a most wise, holy, and righteous (Jod; 
 preserved, luesv.'d, and loaded with beneiits every day, 
 on purpose that they luin'hl work all these auu/uiuatiojis, 
 or in order to live just as thev do. 
 
 13 J
 
 6 Funeral Sermon 
 
 If, then, it is confessedly impious and unreasonable 
 to live to ourselves, it necessarily follows that we are 
 the property of another; for it will ever be " lawful 
 for one to do what he will with his own." And whose 
 can we be but His who gave us existence ? Or, if ties 
 of gratitude can more powerfully influence iugenuous 
 minds than even those of nature, who can so justly 
 claim us as llv who, as we hope, loved us, and washed 
 us from our sins in his own blood ? Rev. i. 6. This 
 leads me to observe, 
 
 II. That we should " live and die to the Lord." 
 This can admit of no debate : for if our Maker and 
 Redeemer be our rightful owner, then whatever we are, 
 or have, or can do, must be for him. Being his ser- 
 vants, wc must " shew all good fidelity" in his busi- 
 ness. The talents with which he has entrusted us, more 
 or fewer, or whatever kind, may not be returned with- 
 out improvement ; for, as it is fit and proper, he re- 
 quires his own with usury. Matt. xxv. 27. He is our 
 King, whose prerogative it is to direct our course of 
 action, and propose the end at which we are to aim ; 
 " to mete out the bounds of our habitation," and carve 
 our portion ; and it becomes us to give the most ready 
 and cheerful obedience to his commands, and submit to 
 all his disposals. 
 
 Our living thus to the Lord plainly supposes our 
 being sensible of our entire dependance on him, and 
 that we devote ourselves to his service. We must 
 present our bodies a living sacrifice, Rom. xiii. 1. with- 
 out reserve or hesitation; and "avouch the Lord to be 
 our God," to walk in his ways, and to keep his sta- 
 tutes, and judgments and commandments, and to hear- 
 ken to his voice. Deut. xxvi. 17. We bind ourselves to 
 him in a firm covenant, not for a limited term of months 
 and years, but for ever and ever, and acquiesce in Him 
 as our chief good. 
 
 The solemnity of such an infinitely important trans- 
 action between the glorious Majesty of heaven and such 
 mean creatures as we, who are but dust and ashes, can- 
 not but strike us with reverential awe. And what will 
 make it yet more humbling, is the consideration of our 
 guilt. We not only as creatures take upon us to speak
 
 on the Death of Mr. Darks. 7 
 
 unto the Lord our Maker, but as criminals approach to 
 the seat of our offended and most righteous Judge. Dare 
 we then trifle, and not rather be most serious and de- 
 liberate? Reflecting that we are in the presence of the 
 heart-searching God, will naturally make us watchful 
 over every thought and motion of our spirits, and en- 
 gage us to the greatest sincerity in surrenderingtohi.il 
 our all. We will give him our hearts themselves ; keep 
 nothing hack ; nor except against any terms he shall 
 please to propose, but yield at discretion. 
 
 On this occasion a consciousness of our having re- 
 volted from him, neglected his service, purloined his 
 goods, and in every respect behaved most ungratefully 
 and undutifully, will affect us with the most genuiire 
 sorrow. Therefore, when repentant we return to him, 
 we shall, covered with shame, approach with the prodi- 
 gal's self-abasing confession, " Father ! I have sin- 
 ned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more 
 Ivor tlii) to be called thy son. Luke xv. 18. He will 
 " surely hear us bemoaning ourselves, like Ephraim," 
 that we have too long wrought the will of the flesh, and 
 suffered " other usurping lords to have dominion over 
 us;" but now we humbly beg forgiveness, his gracious 
 acceptance of our persons, and admission into his family, 
 should it be only on trial, " as hired servants.' 1 
 
 But though our sins have made us vile, and the view 
 of their odious nature makes us " loathe ourselves in our 
 own sight,*' yet a conviction of the free grace and 
 mercy of God in Christ will comfort and encourage our 
 dejected and diffident hearts. The cords of love will 
 draw us nearer and nearer, until we shall assume an 
 humble boldness to enter into the holiest of all by the 
 blood of Jesus. Jle!). x. 1.9. Sacred love, and a grate- 
 ful sense of the unmerited favours of our God will now 
 dispose us to, and animate us in the performance of every 
 duty. Religion will be our chosen course, and the com- 
 mandments of God will be so far from being burden- 
 some to us, that we shall rejoice in them, and delight 
 in " doing the things that please him." Our whole tune 
 will be consecrated to his service: no part of it can be 
 -spared for fleshly indulgences or sinful pleasures, but 
 
 15 4
 
 8 Funeral Sermon 
 
 will be employed either in some positive duty, or in pre- 
 paration for it in the proper season. 
 
 This religious bent of mind will manifest itself in all 
 our conduct, and give even common actions a different 
 direction. If we attend our ordinary callings, we shall 
 be active and diligent, not in order to gratify an earthly 
 temper, but from an obediential regard to supreme au- 
 thority. When our spirits flag through intense appli- 
 cation to business, and recreation becomes necessary, 
 our very diversions will be considered as our duty, and 
 so as a branch ot our religion : and as they will be inno- 
 cent in their nature, so they will be no otherwise re- 
 garded than as means to fit us for the repetition of our 
 work. W our friends or country demand our sen ice, 
 we shall not give place to selfishness and indolence, but, 
 as lovers of God and men, generously exert ourselves 
 for the common good. Thus will our whole life be 
 religion, upon such a sincere, entire, and affectionate 
 dedication of ourselves to the Lord. And such as is 
 our course, so will be its end. When the date of time 
 is concluded, we shall also die to the Lord. This in 
 general imports our living under the rational affecting 
 impression of our dissolution, and appearing before 
 God, and our constant endeavours after actual prepa- 
 ration to enjoy him for ever. Then, upon the approach 
 of death, we shall confidently " commit our spirits 
 into his hands," recommend his ways to survivors, and 
 glorify him with our dying breath. 
 
 But, on the other hand, if our lives are not thus 
 consecrated to our God, we cannot be supposed to 
 perform any duty in an acceptable manner, as the re- 
 quisite principle and end are wanting. He, to whom 
 the secret springs of action are all obvious, will not, can- 
 not accept pretended services, nor be pleased with the 
 " blind and the lame for sacrifice," when the best are 
 esteemed too good for him. To compliment him with 
 our lips, when we refuse to give him our hearts, will 
 be judged similar to the conduct of those who " bowed 
 the knee in derision,"' and in derision said, Had I King 
 of the Jews ! lie, ' with whom we have to do," can- 
 not be deceived, nor will be mocked, lie requires 
 truth in the uiicard pyrts, which cannot subsist without
 
 on the Death of Mr. Davie s. <) 
 
 an honest and upright design to serve him all the days 
 of our lives. 
 
 Now to live wholly to the Lord, will appear to be our 
 reasonable service, it" we consider, 1. That " such a life 
 " is most worthy of rational and immortal creatures." 
 From the powers and faculties given us, it may naturally 
 be concluded that we are created for some very im- 
 portant purpose; but what can be so important, or bear 
 so just a correspondence to our capacities, as to live to 
 the glory of our great Creator ? This being our ulti- 
 mate end, to which we refer all our actions, and perform 
 each of them in such a manner as may best answer it, 
 will influence our hearts, and frame our whole conver- 
 sation agreeable to the divine approving will. Ariel 
 what can so ennoble the soul as conformity to the pat- 
 tern of perfection ? But to neglect this, and chiefly re- 
 gard our temporal affairs, would be infinitely unworthy 
 of beings capable of the highest pursuits, and formed 
 for immortality. Why should we have been " wiser 
 " than the beasts of the field, or the fowls of heaven," 
 if we are to have no sublimer aims than they? In a 
 word, avc could never vindicate the wisdom of God in 
 our formation, if he intended us for meaner things than 
 those for which we are qualified. Therefore, 
 
 3. " Such a life is most worthy of God our Maker." 
 Nothing can appear more condecent and proper, than 
 that he who is the beginning, should also be the end ; 
 that as all are of him, all should he to him. And if his 
 glory be the most excellent thing, and lie the most 
 perfect Being, it will necessarily follow, that he can- 
 not ultimately design what is less excellent. Therefore 
 the scripture speaks agreeable to everlasting truth, 
 when it asserts, that he made all things' for himself'-, 
 and, that fur his pleasure they arc anil were created. 
 Rev. iv. 1 1. And can it he rationally supposed, that 
 he allows us, whom he made for his own glory, to act 
 for a different or opposite end? It cannot. We must 
 therefore peremptorily al'lirm, that he cannot, in con- 
 sistency with his perfections, require less than that, 
 it hel fn / we eat or drink, or 'whatever we do, we should 
 do fill hi his glurij. 1 Cor. x. :JI, And this he does 
 require, n )t because he needs our service, or can be
 
 1 Funeral Sermon 
 
 happier, or more glorious in himself by our praises, 
 but because it is fit and right, and results as our duty 
 from the eternal reason of things. 
 
 3. " Such a life is our own happiness :" for, act- 
 ing as prescribed, we move in our proper sphere, and 
 tend to our native centre. We live as near the foun- 
 tain of blessedness as our present state can admit, and 
 nothing can be so animating as the glorious and bliss- 
 ful prospects our course affords. Our hearts, being 
 fixed on the chief good, are at rest, and no more tor- 
 tured with anxious hesitation, and uneasy suspense, as 
 to what we shall choose for our portion ; nor do our 
 desires wander in quest of a more suitable object. We 
 can wish for no more but the full enjoyment of God, 
 whom we " serve with our spirits;" whose peace, that 
 passeth all understanding, rules in our hearts ; and for 
 whose, glory we hope, secure from confounding dis- 
 appointment in the day of the Lord. 
 
 Now methinks every attentive hearer prevents my 
 improvement of the subject, being ready, of his own 
 accord, to make such reflections as these. IJow se- 
 rene and placid is the life, and how triumphant must 
 be the death of a true christian ! liow reasonable a 
 service do we perform,, when we consecrate ourselves 
 to the Lord, and receive him, freely offering himself 
 to be our portion, our Lather, and our Friend ! None 
 can plausibly urge, that some things unfit or detri- 
 mental are required. None can pretend a conscien- 
 tious scruple about complying with the proposal, nor 
 dare any, however secretly reluctant, openly avow 
 their dissent. Every mouth is stopped, and all ac- 
 knowledge their obligation to this plain duty. What 
 then should hinder the unanimous agreement of this 
 whole assembly to so advantageous an overture? Why 
 may we not join ourselves this day to the Lord in an 
 everlasting covenant ? Would it not seem unchari- 
 table to suppose, that any one in this christian au- 
 dience rejects a proposal so infinitely just and kind ? 
 IJow pleasing is the very imagination of an universal 
 concurrence! Not only would each of our hearts who 
 are here present exult, but unnumbered hosts of an-
 
 on the Death of Mr. Dwvies. 1 1 
 
 gels, and all " the spirits of just men made perfect," 
 would rejoice. 
 
 Since therefore all things that pertain to our present, 
 or future happiness, conspire to urge this point, let 
 us with one accord, in the most affectionate and reve- 
 rent manner, approach the throne of our august So- 
 vereign, and cheerfully resign ourselves to him for 
 ever; spend our lives in his service, and expect his 
 compensating approbation at our end. 
 
 In some such strain, but more diffusive and sublime, 
 would our reverend and dear deceased friend have ad- 
 dressed us on such a subject. We may imagine how 
 fervent his desire was of " living to the Lord" him- 
 self, and persuading others to the same course, when 
 he fixed on this for the subject of his funeral sermon. 
 Now, as it is generally agreed that example has the 
 most powerful influence, perhaps a few sketches of 
 his own life and character may best recommend the 
 preceding discourse, as they will prove the life descri- 
 bed to be practicable. And though he on whom this 
 task is devolved owns himself inferior to it, yet he is 
 encouraged to undertake it from a persuasion, that 
 a simple and unornamented narrative of what he knows, 
 either personally or by certain information, concerning 
 President Davies, will set him in a very agreeable point 
 of light. lie is now disinterested in all the praises and 
 censures of mortals, and can neither receive benefit, 
 or suffer detriment by them; but his example may 
 profit the living, as it tends to excite a laudable emu- 
 lation ; and some brief hints of the dispensations of 
 divine providence towards him may not be without very 
 useful instruction. 
 
 He was an only son, and, which is more, was a son 
 of prayers and vows : was given in answer to fervent 
 supplications, and, in gratitude, wholly devoted to 
 God from the womb by his eminently pious mother, 
 and named Samuel, on the like occasion as the ancient 
 prophet. The event proved, that. God accepted the 
 consecrated boy, took him under his special care, fur- 
 nished him for and employed him in the service of his 
 his church, prospered his labours with remarkable success, 
 and not only blessed him, but made himself a blessing.
 
 1 2 funeral Se? % mon 
 
 The first twelve years of his life were wasted in the 
 most entire negligence of God and religion, which he 
 often afterwards bitterly lamented, as having too 
 " long wrought the will of the flesh." But about that 
 time the God to whom he was dedicated, by his Word 
 and Spirit awakened him to solemn though tf illness, and 
 anxious concern about his eternal state. He then saw 
 sufficient reason to dread all the direful effects of divine 
 displeasure against sin. And so deeply imprinted was 
 the rational sense of his danger, as to make him habi- 
 tually uneasy and restless, until he might obtain satis- 
 fying scriptural evidence of his interest in the forgiving 
 love of God. 
 
 While thus exercised, he clearly saw the absolute 
 necessity, and certain reality of the gospel plan of sal- 
 vation, and what abundant and suitable provision it 
 makes for all the wants of a sinner. No other solid 
 ground of hope, or unfailing source of comfort could 
 he find, besides the merits and righteousness of him, 
 whom God set forth to he a propitiation j or sin, through 
 faith in his blood. Horn. iii. 2.5. On this rigbteousness 
 he was enabled confidently to depend ; by this blood 
 his conscience was purged from guilt; and believing, 
 he rejoiced until joy unspeakable, and full of glory. 
 I Pet. i. 8. Yet he was afterwards exercised with many 
 perplexing doubts for a long season, but at length, 
 after years of impartial repeated self-examination, he 
 attained to a settled confidence of his interest in re- 
 deeming grace, which he retained to the end. 
 
 A diary, which, he kept in the first years of his reli- 
 gious life, and continued to keep as long as his leisure 
 would permit, clearly shows how intensely his mind 
 was set on heavenly things; how observant he was of 
 the temper of his heart; and how watchful overall his 
 thoughts, words and actions. Did any censure his 
 foibles, or juvenile indiscretions? They would have 
 done it compassionately, had they known 'now severely 
 he censured them himself. The tribunal daily erected 
 in his own bosom Mas more critical in scrutinizing, and 
 more impartial and severe in passing sentence, than 
 cither his friends or enemies could be. 
 
 Mis lo\e to God, and tender concern for perishing
 
 on the Death of Mr. Varies. 15 
 
 sinners, excited his eager desire of being in a situation 
 to serve mankind to the best advantage. With this 
 view he engaged in the pursuit of learning, in which, 
 amidst many obvious inconveniences, he made surprising 
 progress, and, sooner than could have been expected, 
 was found competently qualified for the ministerial of- 
 iice. lie passed the usual previous trials with uncom- 
 mon approbation ; having exceeded the raised expec- 
 tations of his most intimate friends and admirers. 
 
 When he was licenced to preach the gospel, he zea- 
 lously declared the council of God, the truth and im- 
 portance of which he knew by happy experience ; and 
 did it in such a manner as excited the earnest desires 
 of every vacant congregation, where he was known, 
 to obtain the happiness of his stated ministrations. 
 Hut, far from gratifying his natural inclination to the 
 society of his friends, or consulting his ease, moved 
 by conscience of dutv, he undertook the self-denvinar 
 charge of a dissenting congregation in Virginia, sepa- 
 rated from all his brethren, and exposed to the censure 
 and resentment of many. But the more he was known 
 in those parts, the more were prejudices removed; con- 
 tempt was gradually turned into reverence ; the num- 
 ber of his enemies daily diminished, and his friends 
 increased. 
 
 Nor did he there labour in vain, or " spend his 
 strength for nought." The "Lord, who counted him 
 faithful, putting him into the ministry," succeeded 
 his faithful endeavours, so that a great number, both 
 of whites and blacks, were hopefully converted to the 
 living God: for the proof of this I must refer you to 
 his own narrative sent to the Rev. Mr. Bellamy, and 
 by him published, and to his letters to souk; gentlemen 
 of the Society in London for propagating Religion 
 among the poor. 
 
 As to his natural genius, it was strong and mascu- 
 line. His understanding was clear; his memory re- 
 tentive; his invention quick ; his imagination lively 
 and florid; his thoughts sublime; and his language 
 elegant, strong, and expressive. And i cannot but 
 presume, that true and candid critics will readily 
 discern a great degree of true poetic lire, stile, and
 
 14 Funeral Sermon 
 
 imagery in his poetical compositions ; and will grant 
 that he was capable to have shone in that way, had 
 his leisure permitted the due cultivation of his natural 
 talent. 
 
 His appearance in company was manly and grace- 
 ful ; his behaviour genteel, not ceremonious; grave, 
 yet pleasant ; and solid, but sprightly too. In a word, 
 lie was an open, conversable, and an entertaining com- 
 panion, a polite Gentleman, and devout Christian at 
 once. 
 
 In the sacred desk, zeal for God and love to men 
 animated his addresses, and made them tender, solemn, 
 pungent, and persuasive ; while at the same time they 
 were' ingenious, accurate, and oratorial. A certain 
 dignity of sentiment and stile, a venerable presence, a 
 commanding voice, and emphatical delivery, concur- 
 red both to charm his audience, and overawe them into 
 silence and attention. 
 
 Nor was his usefulness confined to the pulpit. His 
 comprehensive mind could take under view the grand 
 interests of his country and of religion at once ; and 
 these interests, as well as those of his friends, he was 
 ever ready zealously to serve. It is known what an 
 active instrument he was in stirring up a patriotic 
 spirit, a spirit of courage and resolution in Virginia, 
 where he resided during the late barbarous French and 
 Indian ravages. 
 
 His natural temper was remarkably sweet and dispas- 
 sionate; * and his heart was one of the tenderest towards 
 the distressed, His sympathetic soul could say, " mIio 
 is weak, and I am not weak ?" Accordingly his charit- 
 able disposition made him liberal to the poor, and that 
 often beyond his ability, lie was -eminently obliging 
 to all, and very sensible of favours conferred ; which 
 he could receive without servility, and manifest hit 
 grateful sense of them with proper dignity. 
 
 * The Rev. Mr. John Rodgers, one of his most intimate friends, in a 
 letter to me since his death, says, " I never saw hiin ... - y during 
 several years oi unbounded intimacy, though I have repea let !y known 
 him to have been ungenerously treated."
 
 on the Death of Mr. Daries. 15 
 
 To his friend he was voluntarily transparent, and 
 fully acted up to the poet's advice : 
 
 Thy friend put in thy bofom : wear his eyes 
 Still in thy heart, that he may see what's there. 
 
 And perhaps none hetter understood the Ingenuities 
 and delicacies of friendship, or had an higher relish 
 for it, or was truer or more constant in it than he. 
 He was not easily disgusted : his knowledge of human 
 nature in its present state, his candid heart, and en- 
 larged soul, both disposing and enabling him to make 
 allowances for indiscretions, which narrower and more 
 selfish minds could make. He readily and easily foi- 
 gave offences against himself, whilst none could be 
 more careful to avoid offending others ; which, if he 
 at any time inadvertently did, he was forward and de- 
 sirous to make the most ample satisfaction. 
 
 He was amongst the first and brightest examples of 
 filial piety, a very indulgent parent and humane mas- 
 ter. As an husband he was kind, tender, cordial, 
 and respectful, with a fondness that was manly and 
 genuine. In a word, think what might rationally be 
 expected, in the present imperfect state, in a mature 
 man, a christian in minority, a minister of Jesus of 
 like passions with others, in a gentleman, companion, 
 and cordial friend, and you conceive of President Da- 
 vies. 
 
 It would hardly be expected, that one so rigid with 
 respect to his own faith and practice, could be so gene- 
 rous and catholic in bis sentiments of those who dif- 
 fered from him in both, as he was. He was strict, not 
 bigoted; conscientious, not squeamishly scrupulous. 
 His clear and extensive knowledge of religion enabled 
 him to discern where the main stress should be laid, 
 and to proportion his zeal to the importance of things, 
 too generous to be confined to the interests of a party 
 as such. He considered the visible kingdom of Christ 
 as extended beyond the boundariesof this or that particu- 
 lar denomination, and never supposed that bis declara- 
 tive glory was w holly dependant on the religious commu- 
 nity which he most approwd. Hence he gloried more in 
 being a Christian than in being a Presbyterian, though
 
 16 Funeral Sermon 
 
 he was the latter from principle. His truly catholic address 
 to the established clergy of Virginia is a demonstration of 
 the sincere pleasure it would have given him, to have 
 heard that " Christ was preached," and substantial re- 
 ligion, common Christianity, promoted by those who 
 " walked not with him,*' and whom he judged in other 
 points to be mistaken. His benevolent heart could not 
 be so soured, nor his enlarged soul so contracted, as to 
 value men from circumstantial distinctions, but ac- 
 cording to their personal worth. 
 
 lie sought truth for its own sake, and would profess 
 his sentiments with the undisguised openness of an ho- 
 nest christian, and the inoffensive boldness of a manly 
 spirit: yet, without the least apparent difficulty, or he- 
 sitation, he would retract an opinion on full conviction 
 of its being a mistake. I have never known one, who 
 appeared to lay himself more fully open to the reception 
 of truth, from whatever quarter it came, than he; for 
 he judged the knowledge of truth only to be real learn- 
 ing and that endeavouring to defend an error was but 
 labouring to be more ignorant. But, until fully con- 
 vinced, he was becomingly tenacious of his opinion. 
 
 The unavoidable consciousness of native power made 
 him bold and enterprising. Yet the event proved that 
 his boldness arose not from a partial, groundless self- 
 conceit, but from true self-knowledge. Upon fair and 
 candid trial, faithful and just to himself, he judged 
 what he could do; and what he could, when called to it, 
 he attempted; and what he attempted he accomplished. 
 
 It may here be properly observed, that he was cho- 
 sen by the Synod of New- York, at the instance of the 
 trustees of New Jersey-College, as a lit person to ac- 
 company the Reverend Mr. Gilbert Tenncnt to Great 
 Britain and Ireland, in order to solicit benefactions for 
 the said college. As this manifested the high opinion 
 which both the Synod and Corporation entertained of 
 his popular talents and superior abilities, so his cady 
 compliance to undertake that serv ; " ui/.rd nc, mid 
 difficult in itself, and precarion consequences, 
 
 which required him to over! !. o\ mesne connex- 
 
 ions, however tender an : manifested his 
 
 resolution and self-dciii;.. !:c was qualified
 
 on the Deatli of Mr. Davies. 17 
 
 as a solicitor, is Witnessed by the numerous and large 
 benefactions he received. His services, as was meet, 
 were gratefully accepted by his constituents ; and to 
 the pious, generous, and public-spirited charity of the 
 friends of religion and learning in Great Britain, recei- 
 ved on that occasion, does the college of New-Jersey, 
 in a great degree, owe its present flourishing condi- 
 tion. 
 
 As his light shone, his abilities to fill the President's 
 chair in this college, then vacant, was not doubted by 
 the honourable board of trustees. He was accordingly 
 chosen, and earnestly invited to accept the charge of 
 this society. Yet he once and again excused himself", 
 not being convinced that he was called in duty to leave 
 his then important province. But repeated application 
 at length prevailed to make him apprehend that it was 
 the will of God he should accept the call; yet, lest lie 
 should mistake in so important a case, he withheld his 
 express consent, until the reverend Synod of New- 
 York and Philadelphia gave their opinion in favour of 
 the college. This determined his dubious mind. He 
 came, and undertook the weighty charge. 
 
 And what were the consequences ? had his inces- 
 sant labours in travelling and preaching the gospel, 
 liis disadvantageous situation, and want of opportu- 
 nity for improvement made some of his best friends 
 diffident of his capacity and acquirements for mov- 
 ing witli honour in this unaccustomed sphere? lie 
 agreeably disappointed their friendly fears, and convin- 
 ced them that strength of genius, joined to industri- 
 ous application, had surmounted all other disadvan- 
 tages. J lad any such raised expectations as seemed 
 hard to answer ? they were fully satisfied : so that from 
 being highly approved, he came to be admired. 
 
 His manner of conducting the college did honour to 
 himself and promoted its interests. Whatever alter- 
 ations in the plans of education he introduced, were 
 confessedly improvements on those of his predecessors. 
 Had I never had other means or intelligence, save only 
 my knowledge of the man, I should naturallv have ex- 
 pected th.it all his public appearances would have been 
 conducted with spirit, elegance, and decorum- that 
 
 Vol I. (J
 
 1 S Funeral Sermon 
 
 his government would be mild and gentle, tempered 
 with wisdom and authority, and calculated to com- 
 mand reverence while it attracted love, and that his 
 manner of teaching would be agreeable and striking. 
 
 But I propose not these as mere conjectures. The 
 learned tutors of the college, the partners of his coun- 
 sels and deliberations for its good, and these young 
 gentlemen, once his care and charge, who judged them- 
 selves happy under his tuition, all know more than I 
 shall speak. 
 
 You know the tenderness and condescension with 
 which he treated you ; the paternal care with which he 
 watched over you ; the reluctance with which he at 
 any time inflicted the prescribed punishment on a de- 
 linquent; and how pleased he was to succeed in reform- 
 ing any abuse by private and easy methods. You felt 
 yourselves voluntarily confined by the restraints of 
 love, and obliged to subjection, not from slavish fear, 
 but from principle and inclination. You have yet 
 fresh in memory his instructive lectures, and can tell 
 with what ease he communicated his sentiments, and 
 impressed his ideas on your minds, and the entertain- 
 ing manner in which he would represent even a common 
 thought. 
 
 J]ut his persuasive voice you will hear no more. He 
 is removed far from mortals, has taken his aerial flight, 
 and left us to lament that " a great man is fallen in 
 Israel !" He lived much in a little time; " he finished 
 his course," performed sooner than many others his 
 assigned task, and, in that view, might be said to have 
 died mature, lie shone like a light set in a high place, 
 that burns out and expires. 
 
 lie went through every stage of honour and useful- 
 21CSS, compatible to his character as a dissenting cler- 
 gyman: and, while we flattered our fond hopes of 
 eminent services from him for many years to come, 
 the fatal blow was struck: our pleasing prospects are 
 all at an end, and he is cut down like a tree that had 
 yielded much fruit, and was loaden with blossoms even 
 in his fall. 
 
 This dispensation, how mysterious ! how astonish- 
 ing 1 nay how discouraging does it seem ! Why was
 
 on the Death of Mr. Denies. 1.9 
 
 he raised, by divine providence, in the prime of life, 
 to so important a station, and amidst useful labours, 
 whilst lie was fast increasing in strength adapted to his 
 business, quickly snatched away ? This is a perplex- 
 ing case; and the more so that it so soon succeeded 
 the vet shorter continuance of the venerable Edwards. 
 Were they set in so conspicuous a point of view, only 
 that their imitable excellencies might be more observ- 
 able ? or, was Nassau-Hall erected by divine providence 
 for this, among other important purposes, that it might 
 serve to adorn the latter end of some eminent servants 
 of the living God, itself being adorned by them ? In 
 this view, the short Presidency of a Dickinson, a Buri^ 
 an Edwards, and a Davies, instead of arguing the 
 displeasure of the Almighty, will evince his peculiar 
 favour to this institution ; which I know was planned, 
 and has been carried on with the most pious, benevo- 
 lent, and generous designs. These designs God's good- 
 ness has hitherto amazingly prospered, amidst apparent 
 frowns ; and, if we may infer any thing from what he 
 has already done, it is an encouraging expectation that 
 he will continue to bless this society, and make it an 
 honour and happiness to this venerable board to have 
 been engaged in so noble and successful an under- 
 taking. 
 
 Now one more shining orb is set on our Avorhl. Da- 
 vies is departed, and with him all that love, zeal, ac- 
 tivity, and benevolence, for which he was remarkable. 
 This the church, and this the bereaved college mourns. 
 For this we hang our once cheerful harps, and indulge 
 to plaintive strains. Yet we are not to lament as those 
 who are hopeless, but rather with humble confidence 
 to pray the Lordoj the harvest, with whom is the residue 
 of the Spirit, that he would send forth another Davies 
 to assist our labour, ami forward his work. 
 
 Nor should the deecasj of useful labourers, the ex- 
 tinction of burning and shining lights, only send us to 
 th" throne of grace for supplies, but excite us to greater 
 diligence and activity in our business, as we have lor 
 the present the more to do. And, instead of being 
 dispirited by the loss of Mich eminent assistants, we 
 uid be animated by their example, and hope for 
 
 c < >
 
 20 Funeral Sermon, c. 
 
 the same divine aids that carried them through all the 
 duties and dangers of life with safety, success and ho- 
 nour. 
 
 Finally, this dispensation should lessen our esteem 
 of this transitory disappointing world, and raise our 
 affections to heaven, that place and state of permanent 
 blessedness. Thither ascends, as to its native home, 
 all the goodness that departs from earth : and the more 
 of our pious friends that go to glory, so many more 
 secondary motives have we to excite our desires of de- 
 parting and being with Christ; which is jar better 
 than any state under the sun : for there in addition to 
 superior felicity, we sJiall come to the general assembly 
 and church of the first born, who are written in heaven, 
 and to the spirits of just men made perfect. Ileb. xiik 
 <lo. Amen.
 
 Divine Conduct vindicated, or the Operations of God 
 shown to be the Operations of Wisdom : 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 Preached at Haberdashers-hall, London, March 29, 176 1 ; 
 Occasioned by the Death of the Rev. Mr. Davies, 
 
 Late President of the College of New Jersey, 
 
 by THOMAS GIBBONS, d. d. 
 
 President of the said College. 
 
 -Ephes. i. l\.JVho zcorks all things after the counsel of his 
 
 can zcill. 
 
 THE last week gave me the awful assurance of 
 the sudden and unexpected death of that most 
 excellent and amiable man and minister of Jesus Christ, 
 the Rev. Mr. Samuel Davies, President of the College 
 in Xew-Jersey, by a letter from a gentleman in Phila- 
 delphia (an acquaintance of Mr. Davies, and who well 
 knew his worth) to his correspondent in London. 
 
 A greater loss, all things considered, could not per- 
 haps have befallen the church of God in the death of 
 a single person. The God of nature had endowed Mr. 
 Davies with extraordinary talents. Perhaps in subiimi- 
 tv and strength of senilis there were very few, it any, 
 who surpassed him. To the brightest and richest intel- 
 lects, Mr. Davies had superadded the improvements of 
 science, and a large acquaintance with books ; and 
 possibly, had he lived, there Mould not have been a 
 more accomplished divine or scholar. His character 
 in life was wonderfully accommodated both to his 
 natural and acquired abilities. He was President of 
 New-Jersey College ; in the discharge of which oilicj
 
 52 
 
 The Operations of God sliozcn 
 
 there would have been a demand for the exertion of his 
 amazing talents and the exhibition of all his treasures 
 of literature and knowledge. Thus as he was a star of 
 the first magnitude, so he was placed in a situation 
 where he might have shone without any waste of his 
 (distinguished and super-eminent glories. 
 
 But what crowned all, or advanced his distinction 
 as a man and a scholar into the highest value and lustre, 
 was that his pious character appeared not at all inferior 
 to his great intellects and acquired accomplishments. 
 His pious character as much surpassed all else that was 
 remarkable in him, as the sparkling eye in the coun- 
 tenance of a great genius docs all the other features of 
 the face. If Mr. Davies's good sense and learning were 
 the pictures of silver, his graces and virtues were the 
 apples of gold. Prow xxv. 11. 
 
 Here let me pause a little ; and, though I shall only 
 give you a few outlines of his piety and amiable dispo- 
 sition, yet let me be allowed to present you with such 
 a view of him as shall not only be sufficient to demon- 
 strate him to be the best of men and ministers, but as 
 shall leave room for you to conclude, that great addi- 
 tions might be made to his character by persons who 
 had a longer acquaintance with him than myself, and 
 the collected testimonies of the friends who were 
 favoured with his intimate correspondence. 
 
 He informed me in one of his letters, for I was ho^ 
 mourcd with a close intimacy with him several years, 
 " That he was blessed with a mother whom he might 
 account, without filial vanity or partiality, one of the 
 most eminent saints he ever knew upon earth. And 
 here, says he, I cannot but mention to my friend an 
 anecdote known but to ivw ; that is, that I am a son 
 of pmyer, like my name-sake Samuel the prophet ; and 
 my mother called me Samuel because, she said, I have 
 asked him of the Lord, 1 Sam. i. <J0. This early dedi- 
 cation to God has always been a strong inducement to 
 me to devote myself to him by my own personal act ; 
 and the most important blessings of my life I have 
 looked upon as immediate answers to the prayers of a 
 pious mother. But, alas ! what a degenerate plant am 
 4 ! How unworthy of such a parent and such a birth !"'
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 
 
 From the accounts Mr. Davies gave of himself in 
 the conversation that passed between us when he was 
 here in England, I learnt, as the inference from related 
 fact, that he must have been very assiduous in his 
 studies. When he was about entering the ministry, 
 or had not long entered upon it, if I remember right, 
 lie was judged to be in a deep and irrecoverable consump- 
 tion, rinding himself upon the borders of the grave, 
 and without any hopes of recovery, he determined to 
 spend the little remains of an almost exhausted life, as 
 he apprehended it, in endeavouring to advance his Mas- 
 ter's glory in the good of souls. Accordingly he remov- 
 ed from the place where he was, to another about an 
 hundred miles distance, that was then in want of a mi- 
 nister. Here he laboured in season and out of season; 
 and, as he told me, preached in the day, and had his 
 hectic fever by night; and that to such a degree as 
 to be sometimes delirious, and to stand in need of 
 persons to sit up with him. Here God gave him 
 some glorious first-fruits of his ministry ; for two in- 
 stances of the conversion of two gentlemen he related 
 to me were very remarkable; and he had the satis- 
 faction, as he informed me, to find in the after-ac- 
 counts of them, that there was good reason to believe 
 that they were saints indeed : their goodness being 
 by no means like the grass upon the house-tops, whicli 
 nil hers before it groxveth up, andxeith which the mower 
 Jilleth not his hand, Psalm exxix. (>', 7, but yielding 
 the fruits meet for repentance in an holy and well or- 
 dered conversation. 
 
 Afterwards he settled in Virginia, a colony where 
 profaneness and immorality called aloud for his sacred 
 labours. His patience and perseverance, his magna- 
 nimity and piety, together with his powerful and evan- 
 gelical ministrations, were not without success. The 
 wilderness and solitary places, in the course of his stay 
 there, bloomed and blossomed before him. His tract 
 of preaching, if I remember right, for some time was 
 not less than sixty miles, and by what I have learnt, 
 though not from himself, he had but lit t ie of this world's 
 good^ to repay his zealous and indefatigable labours ; 
 but his reward, as he well knew, was hi heaven and
 
 24- The Operations of God shown 
 
 he felt, I doubt not, the animated joy that every negro* 
 slave, who under his ministrations became the Lord's 
 freeman, would furnish an additional jewel to his eter- 
 nal crown. 
 
 Upon the decease of that excellent man the Rev. 
 Mr. Jonathan Edwards, President of the College of 
 Nassau-Hall in New-Jersey, Mr. Davies writes me word, 
 that Mr. Lockwood in New-England, a gentleman of 
 worthy character, was chosen to rill up the vacancy. 
 " 1 have not heard, says Air. Davies, whether he has 
 accepted the place. The trustees were divided between 
 him, another gentleman, and myself; hut I happily 
 escaped."' But so it was ordered, by Mr. Lockwood's 
 not accepting the invitation, that Air: Davies was 
 afterwards elected President of the college ; and what 
 concern, and indeed what consternation this choice 
 gave him, his letters to me amply testily ; and I could 
 particularly relate to you what views he had of things, 
 and what steps he took to determine what was his 
 duty.- At last he accepted the call to his important 
 office of presiding in the college ; and writes me in a 
 letter, dared June 6*, 1/5.9, " That the evidence of his 
 duty was so plain, that even his sceptical mind was 
 satisfied ; and that his people saw the hand of Provi- 
 dence in it, and dared not to oppose." 
 
 Here he was settled for about eighteen months ; and 
 as he could exercise his ministry as well as preside over 
 the college, great things might have been expected 
 from that rare and remarkable union there was in him 
 of what was great and good ; and with pleasure I have 
 received the information from his friends how well he 
 supported and adorned his character, and what high 
 expectations were formed as to the ber.eiit and blessings 
 he was likely to prove to that seminary of religion and 
 learning. 
 
 But, alas ! in the midst of his days (little more than 
 thirty-six years of age) he was called away from this 
 but opening scene of large and extraordinary usefulness 
 to the invisible world, the world of glory and blessed- 
 ness, never to sojourn in mortal clay, or to irradiate 
 and bless the church militant more. lie is dead, he 
 J-, departed America in groans proclaims her incxprei-
 
 to be the Operations of 'Wisdom. 5 
 
 s'ibic loss; and we in Great Britain share the distress, 
 and echo groan for groan. 
 
 Thus ended the days on earth of this truly great and 
 good man ; having in his little circle of life shed more 
 beams, and done more service than many a languid and 
 less illuminated soul, even in a public sphere, in the 
 revolution of sixty or fourscore years. 
 
 Truly crrcat and ood I mav stile him without the 
 suspicion of flattery, and without the flight of hyper- 
 bole. Let me call* to your remembrance, as proofs of 
 what I say, the excellent discourses he has delivered 
 in this pulpit, and the several sermons of his which 
 have been published, strong in manly sense, louden 
 with full ideas, rich with evangelical truth, and ani- 
 mated with the most sacred fervor for the good of 
 souls. And to these evidences of the admirable spirit 
 that dwelt in him, let me add a few paragraphs from 
 the many letters with which, in the course of about 
 nine years correspondence, he has favoured me. 
 
 Speaking in one of his letters concerning his chil- 
 dren, he says, " I am solicitous for them when I con- 
 sider what a contagious world they have entered into, 
 and the innate infection of their natures. There is 
 nothing that can wound a parent's heart so deep, as 
 the thought that he should bring up children to dis- 
 honour his God here, and be miserable hereafter. I 
 beg your prayers for mine ; and you may expect a re- 
 taliation in the same kind."' 
 
 In another letter he says, " We have now three sons 
 and two daughters ; whose young minds as they open, 
 I am endeavouring to cultivate with my own hand, 
 unwilling to trust them to a stranger; and I find the 
 business of education much more difficult than I expect- 
 ed. .My dear little creatures sob and drop a tear now 
 and then under my instructions, but I am not so happy 
 as to see them under deep and lasting impressions of 
 religion ; arid this is the greatest grief they afford me. 
 Grace cannot be communicated by natural descent; 
 and, if it could, they would receive but little from me. 
 I earnestly beg your prayers for them." 
 
 In .another letter ; ''I desire seriously to devote to 
 God and my clear country all the labours of my head,
 
 26* The Operations of God shown 
 
 my heart, my hand, and pen ; and if he pleases to 
 bless any of them, I hope I shall he thankful, and 
 wonder at his condescending grace. Oh ! my dear 
 brother, could we spend all our lives in painful, disin- 
 terested, and indefatigable service for our God and 
 the world, how serene and bright would it render the 
 swift approaching eve of life ! I am labouring to do 
 a little to save my country, and, which is of much more 
 consequence, to save souls those precious, immortal 
 things, souls from death from that tremendous 
 kind of death, which a soul can die. I have had hut 
 little success of late, but blessed be God, it surpasses 
 my expectation, and much more my desert. Some 
 of my brethren labour to better purpose. The plea- 
 sure of the Lord prospers in their hands.'' 
 
 Another epistle tells me, " As for myself, I am just 
 striving not to live in vain. I entered the ministry 
 with such a sense of my unfitness for it, that I had no 
 sanguine expectations of success. And a condescending 
 God (O, how condescending!) has made me much 
 more serviceable than I could hope. But, alas ! my 
 brother, I have but little, very little, true religion, My 
 advancements in holiness are extremely small : I feel 
 what I confess, and am sure it is true, and not the 
 rant of excessive or affected humility. It is an easy 
 thing to make a noise in the world, to flourish and 
 harangue, to dazzle the crowd, and set them all agape ; 
 but deeply to imbibe the spirit of Christianity, to main- 
 tain a secret walk with God, to be holy, as he is holy, 
 this is the labour, this the work. I beg the assist-. 
 ance of your prayers in so grand and important an enter- 
 prize. The difficulty of the ministerial work seems to 
 grow upon my hands. Perhaps once in three or four 
 months I preach in some measure as I could wish ; that 
 is, I preach as in the sight of God, and as if I were to 
 step from the pulpit to the supreme tribunal. I feel 
 my subject. I melt into tears, or I shudder with horror, 
 when I denounce the terrors of the Lord. I glow, I 
 soar in sacred extasics, when the love of Jesus is my 
 theme, and, as Mr. Baxter was wont to express it, in, 
 lines more striking to me than all the line poetry in the 
 world,
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 27 
 
 ** I preach as if I ne'er should preach again j 
 " And as a dying man to dying men." 
 
 But, alas ; my spirits soon flag, my devotions languish, 
 and my zeal cools. It is really an afflictive thought 
 that I serve so <rood a Master with so much incon- 
 stancy ; but so it is, and my soul mourns upon that 
 account." 
 
 In another letter he says, " I am labouring to do a 
 little good in the world. But, alas ! I find I am of 
 little use or importance. I have many defects, but 
 none gives me so much pain and mortification as my 
 slow progress in personal holiness. This is the gr&nd 
 qualification of the office we sustain, as well as for 
 that heaven we hope for; and I am shocked at myself 
 when I see how little I have of it." 
 
 In another of his tetters he acquaints me, That he 
 indeed feels an union of hearts which cannot bear 
 without pain the intervention of the huge Atlantic, nor 
 even the absence of a week. But our condescending 
 Lord, adds he, calls his ministers Stars, and he knows 
 best in what part of the firmament of the church to fix 
 them ; and (() the delightful thought !) they can never 
 be out of the reach of his beams, though they shine in 
 different hemispheres with regard to each other This 
 leads me, undesignedly, to a criticism on Jude 13. on 
 which perhaps an astronomer would be the best corn^ 
 
 mentator. Afi/rw irXolwrzt, o'ts o <$$&> r a-y.oTHS t's rov atiuivat rf'rn^-nlxi. 
 
 Wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of 
 darkness for ever. Perhaps an astronomical critic 
 would observe that false teachers are represented as pla- 
 netary or wandering stars, that in their eccentricities 
 run out into an eternal aphelion from the Sun of righ- 
 teousness, beyond the system which he warms, illumi- 
 nates, and beautifies, and are constantly receding from 
 the fountain of light, life, and bliss, and therefore 
 must wander through the blackness of darkness for 
 ever ; u darkness unpiere'd by one ray from the great 
 Sun and centre of the moral world blackness of dark- 
 ness, an abstract predicated of an abstract. How gloo- 
 my and strong the expression !" 
 
 Let me give you another quotation from his letters.
 
 S The Operations of God shown 
 
 " I am very much pleased and affected, says hr, 
 with the subject of this week's study, and next Lord's 
 day's entertainment : namely, A bruised reed shall he 
 not break, and the smoaking flax shall he not quench. 
 Such a bruised reed at best am I : a weak, oppressed, 
 useless thing- : a stridens stipula that can make no 
 agreeable melody to entertain my great Shepherd. Yet 
 this bruised reed I have reason to hope he will not 
 break, but bind up and support. This shattered pipe 
 of straw he will not cast away, but repair and tune to 
 join in the angelic concert on high. 1 am at best but 
 smoking flax : a dying snuff in the candlestick of his 
 church ; a wick just put out in the lamp of his sanc- 
 tuary. The flame of divine love, sunk deep into the 
 socket ofacoiTupt heart, quivers, and breaks and catches 
 and seems just expiring at times. The devil and the world 
 Taise many storms to blow upon it. And yet this 
 smoking flax, where the least spark of that sacred 
 passion still remains which renders it more susceptive of 
 his love, as a candle just put out but still smoking, is 
 easily rekindled. This smoking flax he will not quench, 
 but blow it to a flame, which shall shine brighter and 
 brighter till it mingle with its kindred flames in the 
 pure element of love." 
 
 I shall conclude my extracts from his epistolary cor- 
 respondence with part of a letter dated Hanover, Sep- 
 tember \% 1757. 
 
 " My ever dear friend, 
 
 " I am just beginning to creep back from the- 
 valley of the shadow of death, to which 1 made a very 
 near approach, a i'cw days ago. I was seized with a 
 most violent fever, which came to a crisis in a week ; 
 and now it is much abated, though I am still confined 
 to my chamber. In this shattered state my trembling 
 hand can write but little to you, and what I write will 
 he languid and confused, like its author, lhit as the 
 Virginia fleet is about to sail, and 1 know not when T 
 shall have another opportunity, I cannot avoid writing- 
 something. I would sit down on the grave's mouth,
 
 to be the Operations ofJVisdom. fg 
 
 and talk a while with my favourite friend; and from 
 my situation you may foresee what subjects my con- 
 versation- will turn upon Death Eternity the Su- 
 preme Tribunal ! 
 
 " Blessed be my Master's name, this disorder found 
 me employed in his service. It seized me in the pulpit, 
 like a soldier wounded in the field. This has been a 
 busy summer with me. In about two months I rode 
 about five hundred miles, and preached about forty 
 sermons. This affords me some pleasure in the review- 
 But, alas ! the mixture of sin, and of many nameless 
 imperfections that run through and corrupt all my 
 services, give me shame, sorrow, and mortification. *My 
 fever made unusual ravages upon my understanding, 
 and rendered me frequently delirious, and always stupid. 
 But, when I had any little sense of things, I generally 
 felt pretty calm and serene, and death, that mighty 
 terror, was disarmed. Indeed the thought of leaving 
 my dear family destitute, and my flock shepherdless, 
 made me often start back and cling to life ; but in 
 other respects, death appeared with a kind of indiffer- 
 ence to me. Formerly I have wished to live longer, 
 that I might be better prepared for Heaven ; but this 
 consideration had but very little weight with me, and 
 that for a very unusual reason, which was this: After 
 long trial, I found this world is a place so unfriendly to 
 the growth of every thing divine and heavenly, that 1 
 was afraid, if I should live longer, I should be no better 
 fitted for Heaven than I am. Indeed I have hardly 
 any hopes of making any gnat attainments in holiness 
 while in the world, though I should be doomed to 
 stay in it as long as Methuselah. 1 see other chris- 
 tians, indeed, around me, make some progress, tho' 
 they goon with but a snail-like motion : but when I 
 consider that 1 set out about twelve years old, and 
 what sanguine hopes I then had of my future progress, 
 and yet that I have been almost at a stand ever since, 
 I am quite discouraged. O my good Master, if I mav 
 flare to call thee so, I am afraid I shall never serve thee 
 much better on this side the region of perfection. The 
 thought grieves me: it breaks my heart, but I can 
 hardly hope better. But if 1 \ijl\c the least spark of
 
 50 The Operations of God shown 
 
 true piety in my breast, I shall not always labour under 
 this complaint. No, my Lord, I shall yet serve thee - 
 serve thee through an immortal duration with the ac- 
 tivity, the fervour, the perfection of the rapt seraph 
 that adores and burns. I very much suspect this 
 desponding view of the matter is wrong, and I do not 
 mention it with approbation, but only relate it as an 
 unusual reason for my willingness to die, which I never 
 felt before, and which I con Id not suppress. 
 
 " In my sickness I found the unspeakable importance 
 of a Mediator in religion for sinners. O ! I could have 
 given you the word of a dying man for it, that that 
 Jesus whom you preach is indeed a necessary, and an 
 all-sufficient Saviour. Indeed he is the only support 
 for a departing soul. None but Christ, none but Christ. 
 Had I as many good works as Abraham or Paul, I 
 would not have dared to build my hopes upon such a 
 quicksand, but only on this firm eternal rock. 
 
 " I am rising up, my brother, with a desire to re- 
 commend him better to my fellow-sinners, than I have 
 done. But, alas ! I hardly hope to accomplish it. He 
 has done a great deal more by me already than ever I 
 expected, and infinitely more than I deserved. But he 
 never intended me for great things. He has beings 
 both of my own, and of superior orders, that can per- 
 form him more worthy service. O ! if I might but 
 unty the latchet of his shoes, or draw water for the ser- 
 vice of his sanctuary, it is enough for me. I am no 
 ans;el, nor would I murmur because I am not- 
 
 " My strength fails me, and I must give over pray 
 for me write to me love me living and dying, on 
 earth and in heaven." 
 
 Judge you from these passages, written in the free- 
 dom of friendship, and to one to whom he scrupled 
 not to lay open the secrets of his bosom, what a loss 
 the church has sustained, and how much our world 
 is impoverished by the death of Mr. Davies, in the 
 vigour of his days, and in the meridian of his useful- 
 ness ! 
 
 Such a blow, such an uncommon and distressing 
 blow has been given in the death of Mr. Davies. And
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 3*1 
 
 now what shall we do? to what shall we recur, or to 
 what quarter shall we look for help under such an 
 awful Providence ? My advice is, that we should seri- 
 ously and attentively turn our minds to the passage of 
 sacred writ which I mentioned at the beginning of my 
 discourse : 
 
 Who (that is God) works all things after the counsel 
 of his own will. 
 
 Without enquiring into the context, the words may 
 be regarded as a distinct proposition. He (that is God) 
 works. lie Avorks, or he works with energy and irre- 
 sistible power, in such a manner as none besides him 
 either has ability or right to work, lie works like 
 himself, he works with the omnipotence that belongs 
 to him, and which is his essential and distinguishing 
 attribute*. Farther, not only does God work, but he 
 works all things, all things done by him in heaven and 
 earth, in all the provinces of his vast empire, all things 
 in Nature, Providence, and Grace, all things in time, 
 and all things in eternity. And he works all things 
 after the counsel of his own will ; that is, as he pleases. 
 His will is the source of his action. He gives an ac- 
 count of his matters to none. None in the army of 
 heaven, or among the inhabitants of the earth have 
 any authority to say unto him, What dost thou ? He 
 depends upon none, but all, all worlds and beings 
 depend upon him ; and therefore none are to presume 
 to dictate to him, or direct him what is or what is not 
 to be done by him. But observe, that though he 
 works, and works all things, and all this as he pleases, 
 yet it is after the counsel of his own will. We are to 
 consider God indeed as a great sovereign, as Lord of 
 all, higher than the highest, supreme and unrivalled in 
 perfection and glory, who is not to he called to the 
 tribunal of his creatures, or to be questioned by them, 
 
 * That the word ('Ecf/iS-) here, translated who works, contains in it 
 that forcible meaning which I have here ascribed to it, wo may learn 
 from what the critics have, said upon it : " I lac voce significitur actio 
 " conjuncta cum efficacia, & quidem suinma, quae prohiberi nullo modo 
 " possit. I.saia'i xli.-l." Lbicjiiius in verb. " vVt (Ineca vox magis 
 " sonat, ejus ciijus vi & v'.rtutc hunt omnia, h. e. omnia agentis ae ino- 
 
 " deranti-.." Ekasmus in loe. Could we admit of such an English 
 
 *'ord, the original might, be rendered who energizes all things, Sec.
 
 32 The Operations of God shown 
 
 as to what he pleases to perform. We are not to snatclf 
 the sceptre or the balance from his hands. But yet 
 this we may be assured of) that whatever the Almighty 
 God does is done not from a kind of blind though om- 
 nipotent necessity, neither is it by an uuguided or un- 
 meaning exertion of power: but that he works all 
 things after the counsel, the design, or wisdom of his 
 own will*. Survey the great Jehovah as he is indeed 
 in his own nature, and in the revelation he has made 
 of himself to us. If he is sovereign, and not in the 
 least accountable to any one, yet he is wise, and infi- 
 nitely wise. 
 
 We are not to view God partially, but as far we can 
 completely, as the fountain of all perfection ; as con- 
 taining in his nature an harmony of all that is excellent 
 and glorious. He has a right to do, and he can do 
 whatsoever he pleases in all his wide-extended domi- 
 nions ; yet what he pleases is always worthy of himself. 
 He is the aggregate, the system of excellence ; and 
 one attribute never displays itself to the diminution or 
 eclipse of another. As he is greatest, so he is the best 
 of beings. Wisdom dwells eternally and essentially in 
 the divine will ; and it must be obvious, that though 
 none can limit God, yet he, with reverence be it spo* 
 ken, limits himself by the rule which infinite wisdom 
 prescribes to infinite power. Hear the accounts scrip- 
 ture gives of him. He is the rode, his xvorks are per- 
 fect, for all his ways are, judgment ; a God of truths 
 and without iniquity, just and right is he. Deut. xxxii. 
 4. He is wise in heart, as well as mighty in strength. 
 Job ix. 4. His judgments are a great deep. Psal. 
 xxxvi. 6. but they are judgments, the children of 
 
 * The word ( frv>.v) here translated counsel, may, according to the 
 learned Stephens in his ' Thesaurus Grseese Linguae,' be rendered a decree 
 or resolution, a counsel or advice, whether good or bad, or a consultation 
 or deliberation. If we understand the word here of decree or resolution, 
 as applied to Cod, we. are certain that such a decree or resolution in 
 Deity had its birth in wisdom, or in no way derogatory to it. If" we inter- 
 pret the word of counsel or advice, who sees not that wisdom is taken into 
 the account? It is the counsel, it is the advice of" the God of unerring 
 wisdom. But if we. take, the word, and what forbids that we should not so 
 translate it ? as denoting consultation or deliberation, then we are led in 
 the strongest manner tu conclude that the will of God proceeds upon
 
 to be the Operations ofJl^isddm. 35 
 
 "Wisdom and counseKstill. If clouds and darkness are 
 round about him, yet righteousness and judgment are 
 the habitation of his throne. Psal. xcvii. 2. His works 
 are truth, and his ways judgment. Dan. iv. 37. The 
 Almighty will not pervert judgment. Job xxxiv. 12. 
 His ways are equal, Ezek. xviii. 25, directed by the 
 straight unerring line of infinite wisdom. Be this 
 then an established truth with us, that, whatever per- 
 plexity and darkness may encompass the divine pro- 
 ceedings, there is nothing which God does, that 
 God who works all things after the counsel of his own 
 will, but what is just, and right, and good ; and that 
 his every action is no other than the birth of consum- 
 mate counsel, or that the plan of wisdom is laid as 
 the foundation of all his government. And particu- 
 larly in such an event as we are now considering, the 
 removal of such an excellent and worthy person as 
 Mr. Davies from our world, in the prime of life, and 
 at such a juncture as this, when there are so few sur- 
 viving persons of such ability and character, we are 
 to believe and own that, as the blow was unques- 
 tionably given by God, it was perfectly right, and 
 that not the least shadow or suspicion of blame or 
 wrong is to be ascribed to the most high, most holy, 
 most wise, most faithful, and most merciful God. 
 And even though we could not discern so much as 
 one reason, one end of wisdom or goodness answered 
 by such an awful Providence, yet nevertheless we are 
 not to doubt but that the All- wise as well as the Al- 
 mighty God has proceeded upon motives, though ab- 
 solutely impenetrable by us, worthy of himself ; that 
 he dwells in the thickest darkness, and that the glories 
 
 wisdom. Not that there is properly or strictly any such thing as con- 
 sultation or deliberation in the divine mind : but we may hereby con- 
 ceive, speaking of God after the manner of men, that God when he 
 wills, wills in such a wise manner, and upon such worthy reasons, as if he 
 had first consulted and deliberated with himself what was proper to be 
 done. " Libcre quidem, quia ex voluntate, sed tamem etiam sapient* r 
 " et juste quia ex. consilio voluntatis.' Zanch. " But because (says 
 '' the great Howe) he orders all things according to the counsel ot liis 
 
 ' will, we must conceive some weighty reason did induce hereto. 
 
 Howe's Redeemer's Dominion over the invisible IVortd } p. J2. Folic- 
 Edition, Vol. II, 
 
 Vol. L D
 
 34 The Operations of God skotitn 
 
 of his perfections are inrhroned at the centre, though 
 not a ray of them penetrates and breaks through the 
 external veil. But perhaps, upon a careful and steady 
 survey of this most afflictive providence, we may attain 
 to some discovery of the purposes or counsels of Deity 
 in the decease of such an excellent person as Mr. Davies 
 in the prime of his days, and in the vcry'height of his 
 usefulness. And, though we are not to call the Lord 
 of all to our tribunal, yet perhaps we may not venture 
 beyond our line, or deviate from the path of duty ; 
 nay, we may, on the other hand, be glorifying God 
 as well as composing and comforting ourselves, if, 
 With profound humility and reverence, we make the 
 enquiry, Wherefore it is that God, who works all things 
 after the counsel of his own will, is pleased to call 
 away by death the excellent of the earth in the vigour 
 of life, and in the meridian of their services for the 
 glory of God, and the good of his church ? These 
 hard mysteries may not upon a diligent research be 
 altogether inexplicable ; and these dark passages of 
 Providence upon a close survey may appear illuminated 
 with evident and illustrious beams of wisdom and 
 love. Accordingly I shall endeavour, I trust with a 
 decency becoming a poor imperfect creature examin- 
 ing into the ways of the most high and glorious God, 
 to resolve this problem of providence, " Why the 
 excellent of the earth should be taken away in the 
 flower or prime of their age, and from the most enlar- 
 ged spheres of usefulness, or what instructions and 
 improvement we may gather from such seemingly un- 
 kind and undesirable dispensations?" 
 
 (1.) l\\ the removal of the excellent of the earth 
 in the flower or prime of their days, and in the height 
 of their usefulness, we may be taught the wonderful 
 Majesty and independent glories of the great God over 
 all blessed for evermore. " God will have it known, 
 says the venerable Mr. Howe, on an occasion not 
 unlike that which has given rise to our discourse*. 
 
 TO 7 
 
 that though he uses instruments, he needs them not. 
 
 * Howe's Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible World, on the 
 death oi' John Houghton, Ksq.
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom > 35 
 
 It is a piece of divine royalty and magnificence, that 
 when lie hath prepared and polished such an utensil, 
 so as to be capable of great service, he can lay it by 
 without loss." God can maintain and carry on his own 
 cause, and answer his counsels, without the interpo- 
 sition of his creatures, or, if he pleases, he may em- 
 ploy only meaner instruments, and call home from the 
 vineyard the ablest and best of his servants, to shew 
 his church he can accomplish his pleasure without 
 them. 
 
 (2.) God may cut off the excellent of the earth in 
 the flower or prime of their days, and in the height 
 of their usefulness, to endear and magnify his pow r er 
 and grace in unexpectedly raising up others amidst the 
 desponding fears aud sorrows of his people. When 
 God takes away the excellent of the earth, such as were 
 most eminently formed for service, in the midst of their 
 days, the Church of God, the friends of Zion, are 
 apt to sink into great anxiety and distress, and to say 
 with Zion of old, Ike Lord has forsaken me, and my 
 God hath forgotten me; Isa. xlix. 14. or with Jacob, 
 Alt these things are against me. Gen. xlii. 36. Now 
 at the very juncture when the people of God are thus 
 dejected, when their hearts are trembling for the ark of 
 the Lord, for God then to arise and to make the time 
 of his church's extremity the time of his mercy in 
 raising up others, and pouring out his spirit upon them 
 in a plentiful effusion of gifts and graces, how does 
 he hereby most wonderfully illustrate his power and 
 love ! His light, his favour towards Zion appears as 
 it were with a double brightness, thus breaking out 
 from amidst a night of thick darkness ; and the people 
 of God with a most lively and powerful sense of the 
 divine goodness, acknowledge that God has done 
 great things for them, which they looked not for ; and 
 that nothing but his own arm and his own love could 
 have helped them in such a distressing season. Hereby 
 God is more eminently seen and glorified, and the 
 work appears to be the Lord's, and is wonderful in 
 his people's eves. 
 
 (:J.) God may take away the excellent of the earth 
 in the flower or prime of their davs, and in the meri- 
 
 D2
 
 56 The Operations of God shown 
 
 dian of their usefulness, to shew us more powerfully 
 and affectingly the vanity of the present state. God 
 shews us the vanity of the present state when he takes 
 away persons in old age, when they have reached their 
 threescore years and ten, or fourscore years ; for by 
 such instances we are taught what a mere hand's 
 breadth of being this life is, even in its utmost extent, 
 and how soon our existence in this world will be ter- 
 minated, even though it is protracted, to its farthest 
 limit. But when death, usurping, as it were, by vio- 
 lence the sickle from the delaying hands of time, cuts 
 off persons in the bloom or in the prime of life, then 
 is the vanity of the present state preached to us in the 
 most striking, afTecting manner. And if with the 
 bloom of youth or prime of manhood, great intellectual 
 abilities, and superior acquired accomplishments, dis- 
 tinguished piety, and most enlarged usefulness are cut 
 oft", then, in the most, solemn awful accents, is the vanity 
 of the present state proclaimed to us, and our ears 
 receive the lessons not in soft whispers, not in a common 
 voice, but in peals of thunder. Then we hear the cry 
 sounding, as it were, in an overwhelming and irre- 
 sistible energy, All jlesh is grass, and all the goodli- 
 7i ess thereof is as the flower of' the field: the g?*ass 
 withers; the flower fades, because the spirit of the 
 J.ord blows upon it. Isai. xl 6', 7. I sec a man in the 
 vigour and strength of constitution, a man ennobled 
 beyond the common multitude by a bright and lively 
 imagination, by a clear and piercing judgment, by a 
 superior, manly, and commanding eloquence : I see a 
 man superior to bis fcllow-christiaus, and his fellow- 
 ministers, by a most sublime, steady, rational, and 
 uniform piety, and by an unextinguishablc zeal, and 
 unwearied labour for the glory of God, and the good 
 of souls; this man, thus richly furnished and qualified, 
 is taken away by a sudden stroke, or after but a 
 very few days illness, and an end is put to all his lustre 
 and benefit in our world. What inference results from 
 all this, but that all is vanity here below ? If the best 
 we meet with on earth is thus fugitive and uncertain; 
 if it may so soon be gone, for ever gone from us, then 
 verity every man at his best estate, and the best of
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 57 
 
 men too, are altogether 'vanity. Psal. xxxix. 5. The 
 pearls and jewels of our world may be as soon taken 
 from it as the dirt and dross. There is mortality, 
 there is death in my choicest enjoyments. I see that 
 the tall cedar may be cut down as well as the humble 
 plant. Stars of the iirst magnitude, as well as the 
 smaller orbs, may quit the skies, and vanish from my 
 sight. Death makes no distinction between good and 
 bad, between the greatest and meanest, the best and 
 worst. Now he strikes his dart at the poor peasant, and 
 now he lanches it at the monarch on his throne. Now 
 his shaft smites the christian in his private walks of 
 life, and now his unerring stroke lays the eminent 
 genius, scholar, and minister in the dust. All things, 
 in this sense, come alike to all. Eccl. ix. . And is 
 this the case, do the floods of death alike overwhelm 
 the stately and richly freighted ship as the small 
 bark or boat, then why should I doat upon the crea- 
 ture? If I build my fond expectations of peace 
 
 and comfort upon the best of men, I build upon the 
 sand. My dearest friendships, and richest joys on 
 earth may be dashed in pieces in an hour, in a mo- 
 ment. All on earth is shadow, and when I look even 
 to the very best it can afford, I see the same vanity 
 and frailty there, which are common to lower and 
 meaner things. 
 
 (4.) God may cut off the excellent of the earth in 
 the flower or prime of their days, and in the height of 
 their usefulness, to bring our hearts into a nearer and 
 more intimate dependence upon himself. How pleased 
 are we apt to be with our enjoyments here below, and 
 especially with our pious friendships and connexions ? 
 And it may be that we are in such cases the less aware 
 >t danger, and the less upon our guard as to excess 
 as we are certain that it is no way sinful, but on the 
 other hand acceptable in the .sight of God, to value the 
 excellent of the earth, and to be delighted with their 
 conversation and company. Imt even here we may 
 exceed, and by an inordinate regard to only creatures 
 and instruments, we may be led astray from God ; or 
 may not so much consider, adore, and enjoy him in 
 them as we onirht. God has a right to our entire hearts j 
 
 J) 3
 
 38 The Operations of God shown 
 
 and, unless we look to him, and own him in all our 
 best enjoyments, we may provoke him to remove 
 them from us ; and this he may do, that he may bring 
 us into more intimate union with himself, and depen- 
 dence upon him, that the creature may be shewn to 
 be nothing better than a creature, and that lie may be 
 honoured and acknowledged as all in all. Peter, upon 
 the mount of transfiguration, says, that it was good for 
 them to be there, and was for making three taberna- 
 cles, one for his Lord, one for Moses, and one for 
 Eiias ; but it is told us he knew not what he said, Luke 
 ix. S3, and the bright vision was soon concluded. God 
 may righteously, and indeed graciously remove crea- 
 tures, the- best creatures from us, if they draw off too 
 much of the current of our affections from himself. 
 The cistern breaking may endear to us the living foun- 
 tain. The reed sinking may recommend us to the 
 rock of ages. God may take away this and the other 
 created excellency that our weakness has set up a veil 
 between him and our souls, that we may lie the more 
 open to his immediate communications, and that we 
 may better remember and practise our duty, to lore 
 the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, 
 with all our mind, and zvith all our strength. Mark 
 xii. 30. 
 
 (5.) As by the death of the excellent of the earth 
 in the flower or prime of their days, we are taught that 
 rio strength of constitution, or eminency, or useful- 
 ness are securities from death, so we may hereby be 
 excited the more diligently to attend to our work, and 
 prepare for our dismission. If we see others taken 
 aM r ay younger and stronger than ourselves, then what 
 is the inference, but that we may be cut off as well a3 
 they, and indeed more easily than they. If we ob- 
 serve others more eminent and more serviceable than 
 ourselves called away from life, if their brighter splen- 
 dors and more extensive benefit to mankind were no 
 protection from the arrest of death, then what may 
 we their inferiors expect ? We have no exemption 
 from sickness, pain, or sudden death, or death in the 
 juidst of our days, any more than others. If we had 
 the wisdom o^ Solomon, or the zeal and usefulness of
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom, 39 
 
 St. Paul, still, like them, we should be no better than 
 mortal. Hear then the voice of God to you, speak- 
 ing from the ashes of the young', the strong, the 
 learned, the eminently pious and useful : Stand with 
 your loins girded, and your lamps burning. Give dili- 
 gence, to make your calling and election sure. Work 
 while it is day ; the night comes when no man can xvork. 
 /Whatsoever thine hand finds to do, do it zvitli thy 
 might. Do not think that because you are a tree, 
 even a palm, or a vine, whose fruit cheers both God 
 and man, Judges ix. 13. that therefore the order will 
 not be issued out, "Hew down the tree, cut off its 
 branches, and even pluck up its roots."' Flatter not 
 yourself because you are a saint and servant of God, or 
 a minister of some considerable influence and import- 
 ance in the church, that death can have no power 
 over you; dream not of an abiding-place here; you 
 dwell in a tabernacle that may be soon taken down, 
 even though it is a tabernacle which is holiness to 
 the Lord. Attend then to your work ; every day look 
 out for death, and view yourself as at the brink of the 
 grave and at the door of eternity. 
 
 (6\) By the death of the excellent of the earth in 
 the flower or prime of their days, and in the midst of 
 their services to God and his church, we may be led 
 to enquire, whether there is no anger expressed against 
 us by their sudden, and in respect of the commonage 
 of man, untimely removal. 
 
 As (I.) We may do well to consider whether there 
 may not be some judgments impending over us. If 
 ambassadors are called home, it may become the na- 
 tion, where they were, to consider whether a rupture 
 is not likely to ensue. Every good man that is taken 
 away from our world is a loss to it, a deduction from 
 its worh, in proportion to his goodness. There is a 
 loss of his instructions, his example, and his prayers. 
 And if the best of men are cut off, the loss grows so 
 much the greater, and our apprehensions of the divine 
 resentment may very justly be so much the more 
 awakened. Doves fly home to their windows at the 
 coming storm. The righteous perishes and no wan lays 
 U to heart, and merciful men are taken away ) none 
 
 D4
 
 40 The Operations of God shown 
 
 considering that the righteous is taken azvay from the 
 evil to come. Isaiah lvii. ]. Lot leaves Sodom; and 
 when he is gone the floodgates of vengeance are set 
 open, and the city is turned into destruction. Do not 
 let us think lightly of the matter, that we see the best 
 of men, men that were holy wrestlers with God, and 
 stood in the breach to plead with him to turn away his 
 wrath, removed from our world in the midst of their 
 days, especially when so few servants and saints of God 
 remained behind, and the world is so generaiy filled 
 with impiety, and all manner of wickedness. Good 
 Hezekiah, and after him good Josiah must go to their 
 graves before the destruction comes upon Judah and 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 (2.) And as we know not but the deaths of the ex- 
 cellent of the earth in the midst of their days, and in 
 the midst of their usefulness, may portend some judg- 
 ments from God coming upon us, so let us henee be 
 excited the more earnestly to deprecate them, and pray 
 for his merciful regards to us. If the excellent of the 
 earth are taken away, and taken away in the midst of 
 their usefulness, and if, in such dispensations of Pro- 
 vidence we may hear, as it were, the first alarms of the 
 Almighty anger from his secret place of thunder, let us 
 be the more fervent in our supplications that he would 
 turn away his anger, and not deal with us after our sins, 
 nor reward us according to our iniquities. The more 
 gloomy apprehension, the more apparent danger, the more 
 should we be excited to prayer, lively and importunate 
 prayer. Let us beg of God, and beg the more earnestly, 
 that he would have compassion upon us, and that the 
 tokens of his judgments may proceed no farther, and 
 not continue upon us in a storm of resistless and over- 
 whelming vengeance. And, 
 
 (3.) As we know not but the deaths of the excellent 
 pf the earth, in the midst of their days and usefulness, 
 . may be the forerunners of some judgments from God at 
 the door, let us prepare to meet our God if he should 
 come out against us in the way of his judgments. Do 
 we hear the sound of his anger, and are there some aw- 
 ful flashes, though at present at a distance, that^seem 
 \s) signify an approaching tempest, then let us prepare
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 41 
 
 to meet our God. Prepare to meet thy God, O Israel. 
 Amos iv. 12, Let us gird our christian armour close 
 about us. Let us strengthen ourselves in our God, and 
 abound in the exercises of a dependence upon him, 
 whose grace only is sufficient for us, and whose strength 
 alone can be perfected in oar weakness. 2. Cor. xii. 9. 
 Let us be in readiness to follow our God at his call, 
 either through the waters or fires of affliction, being 
 as willing magnanimously to suffer for him as we are 
 cheerfully to serve him, and not being at all shaken in 
 mind or spirit by the most grevious calamities and trials 
 of life; having an inviolable connexion with and a 
 sure interest in him " who will make all things work 
 together for our good." Rom. viii. 28. and who has 
 promised us a better life and a better world, after we 
 have suffered awhile, even an inheritance incorruptible, 
 undefiled, and that fades not axvay, 1 Peter, i. 4. and 
 an admission into his palace and presence, where there 
 is fulness of joy, and a place at his right hand, where 
 are pleasures for evermore. Psal. xvi. 11. 
 
 (7.) By the deaths of the excellent of the earth in 
 the flower or prime of their days, and in the midst of 
 their usefulness, let us be excited to exert ourselves 
 more vigorously and constantly to glorify God, and 
 serve our generation, than hitherto we have done. 
 Their removal shews us that we may be removed, and 
 so quickens us to our duty ; and their loss likewise, 
 their loss to the world, should also excite us to duty, 
 since though there is as much work as ever, yet there 
 are fewer labourers to perform it. The more the -world 
 is impoverished, the more let us endeavour to enrich it. 
 If an army is reduced of its number, let the officers, 
 the soldiers that remain, not be unwilling to go 
 through double service, and to exert themselves with a 
 double activity and vigour. 
 
 (8.) By the removal of the excellent of the earth in 
 the flower or prime of their days, and in the height of 
 their usefulness, we are sure that we have lost by their 
 departure from our world one tie to earth, and gained 
 one attachment more to heaven. The excellent of the 
 earth are taken away ; our friends, our companions 
 with whom we took sweet council. In every such in-
 
 42 The Operations of God shown 
 
 stance one or more bond to earth and. time is conse- 
 quently broken. We are in one more degree detached 
 from the charms of the creature, and hereby may come 
 nearer, if we rightly improve the providence, to a de- 
 liverance from this world, that may have had too fast 
 an hold of oar hopes and affections. Had our pious 
 and, excellent friends stayed behind us, the thought of 
 parting- from them, though but for a time, might have 
 thrown a gloom upon our expiring moments, and sharp- 
 ened the sting of death. But they are gone, and life 
 has lost by the departure of each of them one of its 
 strongest engagements. And as we have dropt one tie 
 to earth by their removal, so we have gained one more 
 argument for heaven. Heaven lets down one more at- 
 tractive, and a most sweet and powerful attractive it is, 
 to draw up our hearts and hopes to it ; heaven, where 
 our immortal treasure lies, and whither our pious friends 
 are gone. Let us feel the attachment ; and the more 
 heaven enlarges its glorious and blessed company of 
 saints made perfect, the more let us look by faith with- 
 in the veil, and the more ready let us be to follow our 
 brethren that have died in Christ to the world of glory, 
 that we may share with them in their eternal blessed- 
 ness, and in the joys of an intimate, perfect, and indis- 
 soluble friendship. 
 
 ( ( J.) And lastly, Let the removal of the excellent of 
 the earth, in the flower or prime of their days, and in 
 the meridian of their usefulness, quicken us to impor- 
 tunate and incessant prayer that God would pour out 
 his spirit upon such of his servants as remain, and upon 
 our rising ministry., and rising generation. The residue 
 of the spirit is with God, and it is a residue copious 
 enough to qualify and consecrate such as survive, or 
 .such as are entering into life, and service, with as emi- 
 nent gifts and as eminent graces as those who are gone 
 before us. O for the spirit of the ascending Elijahs, 
 to rest upon our young Elishas ! The harvest truly is 
 great, but the labourers are few ; let us earnestly and 
 incessantly beseech the Lord of the harvest that he 
 would send forth labourers into his harvest. Matt. ix. 
 37, 38. O that God would kindle by his Almighty 
 breath, and a rich unction from himself, bright and
 
 to be the Operations of Wisdom. 43 
 
 biirmng lamps, to fill up the places of those which 
 are removed from his sanctuary below, to shine in his 
 temple above ! Let the death of such an eminent ser- 
 vant of Christ as Mr. Davies, in the prime of his age, 
 and in the height of his usefulness, excite us to impor- 
 tunate and abundant prayer that God would be pleased, 
 in compassion to our world, to raise up like instruments 
 of his glory, both in our land and wherever his name is 
 known, or there are any opportunities to preach his 
 gospel ! O for the descent of a double portion of the 
 spirit upon surviving ministers, and upon all other 
 nurseries of religion and learning at home and abroad ! 
 " Where is the Lord God of Elijah ?" He lives, he is 
 still with us, though Elijah is gone. To him therefore 
 let us look, to him let us pray with holy importunity 
 and zeal, that the time, even the set time to favour his 
 Zion, may come. Let but the Lord " give the word, 
 and pour out of his spirit, and great shall be the num- 
 ber of those that publish it."' Psal. Ixviii. 11. Let him 
 but clothe his priests with salvation, and his people 
 shall shout aloud for joy. Psal. exxxii. 16. 
 
 And thus have I endeavoured, from various consider- 
 ations, to resolve this problem in providence, " Why 
 the excellent of the earth should be taken away in the 
 flower or prime of their age, and from the most enlarged 
 spheres of usefulness, or what instruction and improve- 
 ment we may gather from such seemingly unkind and 
 undesirable dispensations." I pretend not to assign all 
 the reasons of such a conduct in Deity, in that " God 
 who works all things after the counsel of his own will/' 
 but yet possibly I may have assigned some, and some 
 such as may convince us that even these afflictive, and 
 perhaps frequently supposed impenetrable proceedings, 
 are not without evident traces of the divine wisdom, 
 righteousness, and mercy upon them to a duly observ- 
 ing eye, so that we may not only as the voice of faith, 
 but as the confession of experience say, / know, () 
 Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that thou in 
 faithfulness hast afflicted me. Psal. cxix. 75. 
 
 I shall only add, that whether we can or cannot in- 
 vestigate the motives in the counsels of a holy, M'isc, 
 and merciful God, why such providences should take
 
 2S The Operations of God shown 
 
 place as the removal of the excellent of the earth in the 
 flower or prime of their days, and in the height of their 
 usefulness ; yet two things methinks are indispensable 
 duties upon us in such dispensations, Congratulation 
 and Submission. Congratulation that our pious friends 
 are gone to a better world ; for as one says, " Was not 
 self-love too predominant, and our faith of invisible 
 realities too weak, we should rejoice at a pious relative 
 (or friend's) admission into the society of the blessed. 
 We congratulate them on some petty advantage, gained 
 in this low state of being, and we mourn their advance- 
 ment to the highest degree of honour and felicity, be- 
 cause out of our ken ! Such aukward and preposterous 
 creatures are we." 
 
 The other duty is submission. Submission to the high 
 and holy, though awful will of Heaven. Patience has 
 its hour of exertion and effulgence in the darkness of 
 providence, and the season of our greatest trials. " Fa- 
 ther not my will, but thine be done," how glorious, how 
 pleasant to hear from a soul under the pressures of the 
 sorest afflictions ! I have often thought of the noble 
 speech of the Archbishop of ' Cambray, who, when he 
 heard the news of the Duke of Burgundy's death, to 
 whom he had been preceptor, and for whom he had the 
 most tender affection, burst into tears, but yet present- 
 ly said, " If I knew that by the turn of a straw I could 
 recover him to life, and yet at the same time was as- 
 sured that it was contrary to the will of God, I would 
 not do it." O for a complacent acquiescence in the 
 divine disposals ! O for the meek and cheerful surrender 
 of our wills to the will of our God ! May this be our 
 experience till faith is turned into sight, and hope and 
 patience shall be swallowed up in boundless and ever- 
 lasting fruition and joy !
 
 ft 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 The divine Authority and Sufficiency of the 
 Christian Religion. 
 
 LuKEXvi. 27 31. Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, 
 that thou icouldst send him to my fathers house, for I have 
 Jive brethren, that he 7iiay testify unto them, lest they also 
 come into this place of torment. Abraham saith unto him, 
 They have Moses and the prophets ; let them hear them. And 
 he said, Nay, father Abraham, but if one- zcent unto them 
 from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto him, If 
 they hear not Moses and. the prophets, neither will they be 
 persuaded, though one 7 % ose from the dead. 
 
 WHAT Micah said superstitiously, when he was 
 robbed of his idols, ye have taken axvay my 
 gods; and what hare I more ? (Judg. xviii. 24.) 
 may be truly spoken with regard to the religion of 
 Jesus, If that be taken from us, what have we more ? 
 //' the foundations be destroyed, what shall the righ- 
 teous do ? Psal. xi. 3. The generality of you owe all 
 your hopes of a glorious immortality to this heaven- 
 born religion, and you make it the rule of your faith 
 and practice; confident that in so doing 3 ou please 
 God. 
 
 But what if after all you should be mistaken ? what 
 if the religion of Jesus should be an imposture? 
 I know you are struck with horror at the thought, and 
 perhaps alarmed at my making so shocking a supposi- 
 tion. But this suspicion, horrid as it is, has probably 
 been suggested to you at times by infernal agency; 
 this suspicion may at times have risen in your minds 
 in their wanton and licentious excursions, or from the 
 false alarms of a melancholy anil timorous imagination; 
 and if this suspicion has never been raised in you by 
 the sophistical conversation of loose wits and affected 
 rationalists, it has been owing to your happy retirement 
 from the polite world., where infidelity makes extensive
 
 46 The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1, 
 
 conquests, under the specious name of Deism. Since 
 therefore you are subject to an assault from such a sus- 
 picion, when you may not be armed to repel it, let 
 me this day start it from its ambush, that I may try 
 the force of a few arguments upon it, and furnish you 
 with weapons to conquer it. 
 
 Let me also tell you, that that faith in the chris- 
 tian religion which proceeds from insufficient or bad 
 principles, is but little better than infidelity. If you 
 believe the christian religion to be divine, because you 
 hardly care whether it be true or false, being utterly 
 unconcerned about religion in any shape, and there- 
 fore never examining the matter; If you believe it 
 true, because you have been educated in it ; because 
 your parents or ministers have told you so ; or because 
 it is the religion of your country ; if these are the 
 only grounds of your faith, it is not such a faith as 
 constitutes you true christians ; for upon the very same 
 grounds you would have been Mahometans in Tur- 
 key, disciples of Confucius in China, or worship- 
 pers of the devil among the Indians, if it had been 
 your unhappy lot to be born in those countries : for 
 a Mahometan, or a Chinese, or an Indian, can assign 
 these grounds for his faith. Surely, I need not tell 
 you, that the grounds of a mistaken belief in an im- 
 posture, are not a sufficient foundation for a saving 
 faith in a divine revelation. I am afraid there are 
 many such implicit believers among us, who are in 
 the right, only by chance: and these lie a prey to 
 every temptation, and may be turned out of the way 
 of truth by every wind of doctrine. It is therefore 
 necessary to teach them the grounds of the christian 
 religion, both to prevent their seduction, and to give 
 them a rational and well-grounded faith, instead of that 
 which is only blind and accidental. 
 
 Nay, such of us as have the clearest conviction of 
 this important truth, had need to have it inculcated 
 upon us, that we may be more and more impressed 
 with it ; for the influence of Christianity upon our 
 hearts and lives will be proportioned to the realizing, 
 affecting persuasion of its truth and certainty in our 
 understandings.
 
 Serai. 1. of the Christian Religion. 47 
 
 If I can prove that Christianity answers all the ends 
 of a religion from God ; if I can prove that it is 
 attended with sufficient attestations; if I can prove 
 that no sufficient objections can be offered against it; 
 and that men have no reason at all to desire another; 
 but that if this proves ineffectual for their reformation 
 and salvation, there is no ground to hope that any 
 other would prove successful : I say, if I can prove 
 these things, then the point in debate is carried, and 
 we must all embrace the religion of Jesus as certainly 
 true. These things are asserted or implied in my text, 
 with respect to the scriptures then extant, Moses and 
 the prophets. 
 
 My text is a parabolical dialogue between Abra- 
 ham and one of his wretched posterity, once rioting 
 in the luxuries of high life, but now tormented in in- 
 fernal flames. 
 
 We read of his brethren in his father's house. 
 Among these probably his estate was divided upon his 
 decease ; from whence we may infer that he had no 
 children ; for had he had any, it would have been 
 more natural to represent him as solicitous for their 
 reformation by a messenger from the dead, than for 
 that of his brothers, lie seems therefore, like some 
 of our unhappy modern rakes, just to have come to 
 li is estate, and to have abandoned himself to such a 
 course of debaucheries as soon shattered his constitu- 
 tion, and brought him down to the grave, and alas ! 
 to hell, in the bloom of life, when they were far from 
 his thoughts. May this be a warning to all of his age 
 and circumstances ! 
 
 Whether, from some remaining affection to his 
 brethren, or (which is more likely) from a fear that 
 they who had shared with him in sin would increase 
 his torment, should they descend to him in the infer- 
 nal prison, he is solicitous that Lazarus might be sent 
 as an apostle from the dead to warn them. His peti- 
 tion is to this purpose : '' Since no request in my own 
 favour can be granted ; since I cannot obtain the poor 
 favour of a drop of water to cool my flaming tongue, 
 let me at least make one request in behalf of those 
 who are a^yct in the land of hope, and not beyond the
 
 48. The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. i 
 
 reach of mercy. In my father's house I have five 
 brethren, gay, thoughtless, young creatures, who are 
 now rioting in those riches I was forced to leave, who 
 interred my mouldering corpse in state, little appre- 
 hensive of the doom of my immortal part ; who are 
 now treading the same enchanting paths of pleasure I 
 walked in ; and will, unless reclaimed, soon descend, 
 like me, thoughtless and unprepared, into these doleful 
 regions : I therefore pray, that thou wouldst send 
 Lazarus to alarm them in their wild career, with an 
 account of my dreadful doom, and inform them of 
 the reality and importance of everlasting happiness 
 and misery, that they may reform, and so avoid this 
 place of torment, whence I can never escape." 
 
 Abraham's answer may be thus paraphrased : " If thy 
 brothers perish, it will not be for want of means ; they 
 enjoy the sacred scriptures of the Old Testament, 
 written by Moses and the prophets ; and these are suf- 
 ficient to inform them of necessary truths to regulate 
 their practice, and particularly to warn them of ever- 
 lasting punishment ! Let them therefore hear and re- 
 gard, study and obey, those writings ; for they need 
 no further means for their salvation." 
 
 To this the wretched creature replies, " Nay, fa- 
 ther Abraham, these means will not avail ; I enjoyed 
 them all ; and yet here I am, a lost soul ; and I am 
 afraid they will have as little effect upon them as they 
 had upon me. These means are common and fami- 
 liar, and therefore disregarded. But if one arose from 
 the dead; if an apostle from the invisible world was 
 sent to them, to declare as an eye-witness the great things 
 he has seen, surely they would repent. The novelty 
 and terror of the apparition would alarm them. Their 
 senses would be struck with so unusual a messenger, 
 and they would be convinced of the reality of eter- 
 nal things ; therefore 1 must renew my request; send 
 Lazarus to them in all the pomp of heavenly splen- 
 dor ; Lazarus whom they once knew in so abject a 
 condition, and whom they will therefore the more re- 
 gard, when they see him appear in all his present 
 glory." . 
 
 Thus the miserable creature pleads (and it is natural
 
 Sj:i!M. 1. of the Christian Religion. 49 
 
 for us to wish for other means, when those we have 
 enjoyed are ineffectual, though it should he through 
 our own neglect) ; but, alas ! he pleads in vain. 
 
 Abraham continues inexorable, and gives a very 
 good reason for his denial : " If they pay no regard to 
 the writings of Moses and the prophets, the standing 
 revelation God lias left in his church, it would be to no 
 purpose to give them another : they would not be per- 
 suaded though one rose from the dead ; the same dispo- 
 sition that renders them deaf to such messengers as 
 Moses and the prophets, would also render them lm- 
 persuasible by a messenger from the dead. Such a one 
 might strike them with a panic, but it would sooiivbe 
 over, and then they would return to their usual round 
 of pleasures; they would presently think the apparition, 
 was but the creature of their own imagination, or some, 
 unaccountable illusion of their senses. If one arose 
 from the dead, lie could but declare the same things 
 substantially with Moses and the prophets ; and he 
 could not speak with greater authority, or give better 
 credentials than they ; and therefore they who are not 
 benefited by these standing means, must be given up 
 as desperate ; and God, for very good reasons, will 
 not multiply new revelations to them." 
 
 This answer of Abraham was exemplified when ano- 
 ther Lazarus Mas raised from the dead in the very sight 
 of the Jews, and Christ burst the bands of death, and 
 gave them ineontcstible evidences of his resurrection: 
 and yet after all they were not persuaded, but persisted 
 in invincible infidelity. 
 
 This parable was spoken before any part of the 
 New Testament was written, and ridded to the sacred 
 canon ; and it might be then asserted, that the stand- 
 ing revelation of God's will was sufficient, and that 
 it was needless to demand farther, then much more 
 may it be asserted now, when the canon of the scrip- 
 tures is completed, and we have received so much 
 additional light from the New Testament. We have 
 not only Moses and the prophets, but we have also 
 Christ, who is a messenger from the dead, and his 
 apostles : and therefore, surely " if we do not hear 
 them, neither would we be persuaded, though cut 
 
 Vol I.
 
 50 The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1; 
 
 arose from the dead." The gospel is the last effort of 
 the grace of God with a guilty world ; and if this has 
 no effect upon us, our disease is incurable that refuses 
 to be healed. 
 
 1 cannot insist upon all the important truths con- 
 tained in this copious text, but only design, 
 
 I. To shew the sufficiency of the standing revelation 
 of God's will in the scriptures, to bring men to 
 repentance : and, 
 
 II. To expose the vanity -and unreasonableness of 
 the objections against this revelation, and of de- 
 manding another. 
 
 I. I am to shew the sufficiency of the standing re- 
 velation in the scriptures to bring men to repentance. 
 
 If the scriptures give us sufficient instructions in 
 matters of faith, and sufficient directions in matters of 
 practice, if they are attended with sufficient evi- 
 dences for our faith, and produce sufficient excite- 
 ments to influence our practice, then they contain a 
 sufficient revelation ; for it is for these purposes we 
 need a revelation, and a revelation that answers these 
 purposes has the directcst tendency to make us truly 
 religious, and bring us to an happy immortality. But 
 that the revelation in the scriptures (particularly in 
 the New Testament, which I shall more immediately 
 consider as being the immediate foundation of Christi- 
 anity) is sufficient for all these purposes, will be evi- 
 dent from an induction of particulars. 
 
 1. The scriptures give ns sufficient instructions 
 what, we should believe, or are a sufficient rule of 
 faith. 
 
 Religion cannot subsist without right notions of God 
 and divine things; and entire ignorance or mistakes in 
 its fundamental articles, must be destructive of its 
 nature; and therefore a divine revelation must be a 
 collection of rays of light, a system of divine know- 
 ledge; and such we iind the christian revelation to be 
 as contained in tlu. sacred writings. 
 
 hi the scriptures we iind the faint discoveries of 
 natural reason illustrated, its uncertain conjectures 
 determined, and its mistakes corrected ; so that Chris- 
 tianity includes natural religion iw the greatest pei>
 
 S f. r m. 1 . of the Ch rittian R eligion, 5 i 
 
 fection. But it does not rest here ; it brings to light 
 things which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
 the heart of man conceived. 1 Corinth, ii. .9. things, 
 which our feeble reason could never have discovered 
 without the help of a supernatural revelation ; 
 and which are yet of the utmost importance for us to 
 know. 
 
 In the scriptures we have the clearest and most 
 majestic account of the nature and perfections of the 
 Deity, and of his being the Creator, Ruler, and Bene- 
 factor of the universe ; to whom therefore all reasonable 
 beings are under infinite obligations. 
 
 In the scriptures we have an account of the present 
 state of human nature, as degenerate, and a more 
 rational and easy account of the manner of its apos- 
 tacy, than could ever be given by the light of nature. 
 
 In the scriptures too (which wound but to cure) 
 we have the welcome account of a method of reco- 
 very from the ruins of our apostacy, through the me- 
 diation of the Son of God ; there we have the assu- 
 rance which we could find no where else, that God 
 is reconcilable, and willing to pardon penitents upon 
 the account of the obedience and sufferings of Christ. 
 There all our anxious enquires, JVherezvith shall I come 
 before the Lord? or how myself before the most high 
 God? shall I come before him with burnt offerings ? c. 
 Micah vi. 6, 7, are satisfactorily answered ; and there 
 the agonizing conscience can obtain relief, which 
 might have sought it in vain among all the other reli- 
 gions in the world. 
 
 In the scriptures also, eternity and the invisible 
 worlds are laid open to our view; and "life and im- 
 mortality are brought to light by the gospel;" about 
 which the heathen sages, after all their enquiries, la- 
 boured under uneasy suspicions. There we are assured 
 of the state of future rewards and punishments, accor- 
 ding to our conduct in this state of probation ; and 
 the nature, perfection, and duration of the happiness 
 and misery, are described with as much accuracy as 
 arc necessary to engage us to seek the one and to shun 
 the other. 
 
 I particularize these doctrines of Christianity as a
 
 5 ( Z The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1. 
 
 specimen, or as so many general heads, to which many 
 others may he reduced ; not intending a complete enu- 
 meration, which would lead me far beyond the bounds 
 of one sermon ; and for which my whole life is not suf- 
 ficient. I therefore proceed to add, 
 
 l 2. The holy scriptures give lis complete directions 
 in matters of practice, or are a sufficient rule of life. 
 
 A divine revelation must not he calculated merely 
 to amuse us, and gratify our curiosity with sublime 
 and refined notions and speculations, but adapted to 
 direct and regulate our practice, and render us better 
 &s well as wiser. 
 
 Accordingly, the sacred writings give us a com- 
 plete system of practical religion and morality. There, 
 not only all the duties of natural religion are incul- 
 cated, but several important duties ; as love to our 
 enemies, humility, &c. are clearly discovered ; which 
 the feeble light of reason in the heathen moralists did 
 either not perceive at all, or but very faintly. In 
 short, there we are informed of our duties towards 
 God, towards our neighbours, and towards ourselves. 
 The scriptures are full of particular injunctions and 
 directions to particular duties, lest we should not be 
 sagacious enough to infer them from general rules ; 
 and sometimes all these duties are summed up in some 
 short maxim, or general rule ; winch we may easily 
 remember, and always carry about with us. Such 
 a noble summary is that which Christ has e;iven us 
 of the whole moral law ; " Thou shalt love the Lord 
 thy (iod with all thy heart, &c. and thy neighbour 
 as thyself/'' Or that all comprehending rule of our 
 conduct towards one another, " Whatsoever ye would 
 that men should do unto you, do ye the same unto 
 them." 
 
 What recommends these doctrinal instructions and 
 practical directions is, that they are plain and ob- 
 vious to common sense. It is as much the concern 
 of the illiterate and vulgar to be religious, as of the. 
 few endowed with an exalted and philosophic ge- 
 nius ; and consequently, whatever difficulties may he 
 in a revelation to exercise the latter, yet all necessary 
 matters of faith and practice must be delivered in a.
 
 Seiul 1. of the Christian religion. 53 
 
 plain manner, level to the capacities of the former; 
 otherwise it would be no revelation at all to them 
 who stand in most need of it. Accordingly the reli- 
 gion of Jesus, though it has mysteries equal and infi- 
 nitely superior to the largest capacity, yet in its neces- 
 sary articles is intelligible to all ranks who apply 
 themselves with proper diligence to the perusal of 
 them : and I dare affirm, that a man of common sense, 
 with the assistance of the sacred scriptures, can form 
 a better system of religion and morality than the 
 wisest philosopher, with all his abilities and learning, 
 can form without this help. This I dare affirm, 
 because it has been put to trial, and attested by matter 
 of fact; for whoever is acquainted with the writings 
 of the ancient heathen philosophers, cannot but be 
 convinced, that, amidst all their learning and study, 
 amidst all their shining thoughts and refined specu- 
 lations, they had not such just notions of God and his 
 perfections, of the most acceptable way of worship- 
 ping him, of the duties of morality, and of a future 
 state, as any common christian among us has learned 
 from the scriptures, without any uncommon natural 
 parts, without extensive learning, and without such 
 painful study and close application as the heathen 
 moralists were forced to use to make their less perfect 
 discoveries. In this sense the least in the kingdom of 
 heaven, /. c. any common christian is greater than all 
 the Socratcses, the Platos, the Ciceros, and the Senecas 
 of antiquity ; as one that is of a weak sight can see 
 more clearly by the help of day-light, than the clear- 
 est eye can without it. 
 
 And by whom was this vast treasury of knowledge 
 laid up to enrich the world ? by whom were these 
 matchless writings composed, which furnish us with 
 a system of religion and morality so much more plain, 
 .so much more perfect, than all the famous sages of 
 antiquity could frame ? Why, to our astonishment, 
 they were composed by a company of fishermen, or 
 persons not much superior ; by persons generally 
 without any liberal education; persons who had not 
 devoted their lives to intellectual improvement ; per- 
 sons of no extraordinary natural parts, and who had 
 
 v
 
 5-i The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1. 
 
 not travelled, like the ancient philosophers, to gather 
 up fragments of knowledge in different countries, but 
 who lived in Judea, a country where learning was but 
 little cultivated, in comparison of Greece and Rome. 
 These were the most accomplished teachers of mankind 
 that ever appeared in the world. And can this he 
 accounted for, without acknowledging their inspi- 
 ration from heaven ? If human reason could have 
 made such discoveries, surely it would have made them 
 by those in whom it was improved to the greatest 
 perfection, and not by a company of ignorant mecha- 
 nics. 
 
 The persons themselves declare that they had not 
 made these discoveries, but were taught them imme- 
 diately from heaven (which indeed we must have 
 believed, though they had not told us so).- Now 
 we must believe their declaration, and own them in^ 
 spired, or fall into this absurdity, That a company 
 of illiterate, wicked, and daring impostors, who were 
 hardy enough to pretend themselves commissioned 
 and inspired from God, have furnished us with an 
 incomparably more excellent system of religion and 
 virtue, than could be furnished by all the wisest and 
 best of the sons of men beside ; and he that can be- 
 lieve this may believe any thing; and should never 
 more pretend that he cannot believe the christian re- 
 ligion upon the account of the diificulties that at- 
 tend it. 
 
 I have touched but superficially upon the suffici- 
 ency of the scriptures as a rule of faith and practice ; 
 for to dwell long upon this would be to fight without 
 an antagonist. Our infidels reject the christian reli- 
 gion, because they suppose it requires them to believe 
 and practice too much, rather than too little. Hence 
 they are for lopping off a great part of its doctrine 
 and precepts, as superfluities, or incumbrances, and 
 forming a meagre skeleton of natural religion. Their 
 intellectual pride will not stoop to believe doctrines 
 which they cannot comprehend ; and they cannot 
 bear such narrow bounds as the precepts of Christianity 
 fixes for them in their pursuits of pleasure, and there- 
 fore they would break these bands asunder. That
 
 Se.ru. 1. of the Christian Religion. 55 
 
 which they affect most to complain of, is the want of 
 evidence to convince them of the truth of this ungrate- 
 ful religion ; it will therefore be necessary to prove 
 more largely, that, 
 
 3. The scriptures are attended with sufficient evi- 
 dences of their truth and divinity. 
 
 It is certain, that as God can accept no other 
 worship than rational from reasonable creatures, he 
 cannot require us to believe a revelation to be divine 
 without sufficient reason ; and therefore, when he 
 gives us a revelation, he will attest it with such 
 evidences as will be a sufficient foundation of our be- 
 lief 
 
 Accordingly, the scriptures are attested with all v the 
 evidences, intrinsic and extrinsic, which we can rea- 
 sonably desire, and with all the evidences the nature 
 of the thing will admit. 
 
 As for intrinsic evidences, many might be men- 
 tioned ; but I must at present confine myself in 
 proper limits. I shall resume the one I have already 
 hinted at, namely, that the religion of the Bible has 
 the directest tendency to promote true piety and 
 solid virtue in the world ; it is such a religion as 
 becomes a God to reveal ; such a religion as we might 
 expect from him, in case he instituted any ; a religion 
 intended and adapted to regulate self-love, and, to 
 diffuse the love of God and man through the world, 
 the only generous principles and vigorous springs of a 
 suitable conduct towards (fod, towards one another, 
 and towards ourselves; a religion productive of every 
 humane, social, and divine virtue, and directly calcu- 
 lated to banish all sin out of the world ; to transform 
 impiety into devotion ; injustice and oppression into 
 equity and universal benevolence ; and sensuality into 
 sobriety : a religion infinitely preferable to any that 
 has been contrived by the wisest and best of mortals. 
 And whence do ye think could this godlike religion 
 proceed? does not its nature prove its origin divine? 
 does it not evidently bear the lineaments of its heavenly 
 parent? can vou once imagine that such a pure, such a 
 holy, such a perfect system, could be the contrivance 
 of wicked infernal spirits, of sc Irish, artful priests, of
 
 $6 The Dkinc Authority and Sufficiency Serji. 1. 
 
 politicians, or of a parcel of daring impostors, or 
 wild enthusiasts? Could these contrive a religion so 
 contrary to their inclination, so destructive of their 
 interest, and so directly conducing to promote the 
 Cause they abhor ? If you can believe this, you may 
 also believe that light is the product of darkness, 
 virtue of vice, good of evil, $c If such beings as 
 these had contrived a religion, it would have borne 
 the same appearance in the Bible as it does in Italy, 
 or Spain, where it is degenerated into a mere trade, 
 for the benefit of tyrannical and voracious priests ; or 
 it would have been such a religion as that of Mahomet, 
 allowing its subjects to propagate it with the sword, 
 that they might enrich themselves with the plunder of 
 conquered nations; and indulging them in the grati- 
 fication of their lusts, particularly in polygamy, or 
 the unbounded enjoyment of women. This religion, 
 I fear, would suit the taste of our licentious free- 
 thinkers much better than the holy religion of Jesus. 
 Or if we should suppose Christianity to be the con- 
 trivance of visionary enthusiasts, then it would not 
 be that rational system which it is, but a huddle of 
 fanatical reveries and ridiculous whims. If, then, it 
 ; couid not be the contrivance of such authors as these, 
 to whom shall we ascribe it r it must have had some 
 -author; for it could not come into being without a 
 a cause, no more than the system of the universe. 
 Will you then ascribe it to good men ? But these men 
 "Were either inspired from heaven, or they were not; 
 if tiiey were not, then they could not be good men, 
 but most audacious liars; for they plainly declared, 
 they were divinely inspired, and stood in it to the last; 
 which no good man would do, if such a declaration 
 was false If they were inspired from heaven, then 
 'the point is gained; then Christianity is a religion 
 from God ; for to receive a religion from persons 
 divinely inspired, and to receive it from (iod, is the 
 same thing. 
 
 Another intrinsic evidence is that of prophecy. 
 
 Those future events which are contingent, or which 
 shall be accomplished by causes that do not now exist 
 or appeal*, cannot be certainly foreknown or foretold
 
 Serm. 1. of the Christian Religion. 57 
 
 by man, as we find by our own experience. Such ob- 
 jects tall within the compass of omniscience only; and 
 therefore when short-sighted mortals are enabled to 
 predict such events many years, and even ages before 
 rhey happen, it is a certain evidence that they are let 
 into the secrets of heaven, and that God communicates 
 to them a knowledge which cannot be acquired by the 
 most sagacious human mind ; and this is an evidence 
 that the persons thus divinely taught are the messengers 
 of God, to declare his will to the world. 
 
 Now there are numberless instances of such prophe- 
 cies in the sacred writings. Thus a prophet foretold 
 the destruction of Jeroboam's altar by the good Josiah, 
 many ages before. 1 Kings xiii. Q. Cyprus was fore- 
 told by name as the restorer of the Jews from Babylon, 
 to rebuild their temple and city, about an hundred 
 years before he was born. Isaiah xlv. 1, &c. Several 
 of the prophets foretold the destruction of various 
 kingdoms in a very punctual manner, as of Jerusalem, 
 Babylon, Egypt, Ninevah, &c. which prediction was 
 exactly fulfilled. But the most remarkable prophecies 
 of the Old Testament arc those relating to the Messiah; 
 which are so numerous and full, that they might serve 
 for materials of his history; they fix the time of his 
 coming, viz. while the sceptre continued in Judah. 
 Gen. xlix. i(). while the second temple was yet stand- 
 ing. Hag. ii. 7, Mai. iii. 12, and towards the close of 
 Daniel's seventy weeks of years, i. e. four hundred and 
 ninety years from the rebuilding of Jerusalem. Dan. 
 ix. <24, fyc. These prophesies also describe the lineage 
 of the Messiah, the manner of his conception, his life 
 and miracles, his death, and the various circumstances 
 of it; his burial, resurrection, ascension, and advance- 
 ment to universal empire, and the spread of the gospel 
 through the world. In the New Testament also we 
 meet with sundry remarkable prophecies. There Christ 
 foretels his own death, and the manner of it, and his tri- 
 umphant resurrection; there, with surprizing accuracy, 
 lie predicts the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. 
 \\ e hud various prophecies also in the apostolic epistles, 
 particularly that of St. Paul. Rom. xi. concerning the 
 conversion of the Jens; which though it be not yet
 
 5S The d'vcine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. J. 
 
 Accomplished, yet we see a remarkable providence 
 making way for it, in keeping the Jews, who are scat- 
 tered over all the earth, distinct from all other nations 
 for about one thousand seven hundred years, though 
 they are hated of all nations, and consequently under 
 the strongest temptation to coalesce with, and lose 
 themselves among them ; and though all other nations 
 have in a much shorter time mixed in such a manner, 
 that none of them can now trace their own original ; 
 e. g. Who can now distinguish the posterity of the 
 ancient Romans from the Goths and Vandals, and 
 others that broke in upon their empire and settled 
 among them ; or of the ancient Angli from the Danes, 
 &c. that mingled with them ? 
 
 These and many other plain predictions arc inter- 
 spersed through the scriptures, and prove their original 
 to be from the Father of lights, who alone knows all 
 his works from the beginning, and who declares such 
 distant contingent futurities from ancient times. Isaiah 
 xlv. 21. 
 
 I might, as another intrinsic evidence of the truth 
 of Christianity, mention its glorious energy on the 
 minds of men, in convincing them of sin, easing their 
 consciences, inspiring them with unspeakable joy, sub- 
 duing their lusts, and transforming them into its own 
 likeness; which is attested . by the daily experience of 
 every true Christian. Every one that believeth hath 
 this witness in himself: and this is an evidence level to 
 the meanest capacity, which may be soon lost in a 
 course of sublime reasoning. But as the Deists declare, 
 alas! with too much truth, that the gospel hath no 
 such power upon them, it is not to my purpose to 
 insist upon it. I therefore proceed to mention some 
 of, 
 
 The extr'wsic evidences of the religion of Jesus, par- 
 ticularly the miracles with which it was confirmed, and 
 its early propagation through the world. 
 
 Miracles in this case are events above or contrary to 
 the established laws of nature, done with a professed 
 design to attest a revelation; and as thev are obvious 
 and striking to the senses of the most ignorant and un- 
 thinking, they are the most popular and couvictive
 
 Serm. 1. of the Christian Religion. 59 
 
 evidences, adapted to the capacities of the generality 
 of mankind, who are incapable of a long train of argu- 
 mentation, or of perceiving the origin of a religion from 
 its nature and tendency. 
 
 Now the religion of Jesus is abundantly attested 
 with this kind of evidence. The history of the life of 
 Jesus, and his apostles, is one continued series of mira- 
 cles. Sight was restored to the blind, the deaf were 
 enabled to hear, the lame to walk, the maimed furnish- 
 ed with new created limbs, the sick healed, the rage of 
 winds and seas controled, yea, the dead were raised; 
 and all this with an air of sovereignty, such as be- 
 came a God; the apostles were also endowed with mi- 
 raculous powers, enabled to speak with tongues, and 
 communicate the Holy Spirit to others. These mira- 
 cles were done not in a corner, but in the most public 
 places, before numerous spectators, friends and foes; 
 and the persons that wrought them appealed to them 
 as the evidences of their divine mission; and the ac- 
 count of them is conveyed down to us by the best me- 
 dium, written tradition, in a history that bears all the 
 evidences of credibility, of which any composure of 
 that kind is capable. 
 
 Another extrinsic evidence of the truth of Christianity 
 is its extensive propagation through the world in the 
 most unpromising circumstances. 
 
 The only religion, besides the Christian, which has 
 had any very considerable spread in the world, is that 
 of Mahomet ; but we may easily account for this, 
 without supposing it divine, from its nature, as in- 
 dulging the lusts of men; and especially from the 
 manner of its propagation, not by the force of evi- 
 dence, but by the force of arms. But the circum- 
 stances of the propagation of Christianity were quite 
 otherwise, whether we consider its contrariety to the 
 corruptions, prejudices, and interests of men; the 
 easiness of detecting it, had it been false; the violent 
 opposition it met with from all the powers of the 
 earth; the instruments of its propagation; or the 
 measures they took for that purpose. 
 
 Christianity was directly contrary to the corruptions, 
 prejudices, and interests of mankind. It grants no
 
 60 The Divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1. 
 
 indulgence to the corrupt propensions of a degenerate 
 world: but requires that universal holiness of heart 
 and life which, as we find by daily observation, is so 
 ungrateful to them ; and which is the principal reason 
 that the religion of Jesus meets with so much con- 
 tempt and opposition in every age. 
 
 When Christianity was first propagated, all nations 
 had been educated in some other religion; the Jews 
 were attached to Moses, and the Gentiles to their 
 various systems of heathenism; and were all of them 
 very zealous for their own religion : but Christianity 
 proposed a new scheme, and could not take place, 
 without antiquating or exploding all other religions ; 
 and therefore it was contrary to the inveterate preju- 
 dices of all mankind; and could never have been so 
 generally received, if it had not brought with it the 
 most evident credentials; especially considering that 
 some of its doctrines were such as seemed to the 
 Jews a stumbling block, and to the Greeks foolishness; 
 particularly that one of obscure birth and low life, 
 who Mas publicly executed as a slave and a malefactor, 
 should be worshipped and honoured as God, upon pain 
 of everlasting damnation ! that there should be a 
 resurrection of the dead : the last of which was an 
 object of ridicule to all the wits and philosophers of 
 the heathen world. Again, as some religion or other 
 was established in all nations, there were many, like 
 Demetrius and his craftsmen, whose temporal livings 
 and interest depended upon the continuance of their 
 religion; and if that was changed, they fell into 
 poverty and disgrace. There was a powerful party in 
 every nation, and they would exert themselves to 
 prevent the spread of an innovation so dangerous to 
 their interest, which we find by all histories of those 
 times they actually did. And yet the despised religion 
 of Jesus triumphed over all their opposition, and 
 maintained its credit in spite of all their endeavours 
 to detect it as an imposture; and this proves it was 
 not an imposture ; for, 
 
 In the next place, it was easy to have detected Chris- 
 tianity as an imposture, nay, it was impossible it should 
 flot have been detected, if it had been such; for the
 
 Serm. 1. of the Christian Religion. 6*1 
 
 great facts upon which the evidence of it rested, were 
 said to be obvious and public, done before thousands, 
 and in all countries ; for wherever the apostles travel- 
 led, they carried their miraculous powers along with 
 them. Thousands must know whether Christ had fed 
 many thousands with provisions only sufficient for a 
 few ; whether Lazarus was raised from the dead before 
 the admiring multitude; whether the apostles spoke 
 with tongues to those various nations among whom 
 they endeavoured to propagate their religion (as indeed 
 they must have done, otherwise they would not have 
 been understood). These things, and many others, 
 upon which the evidence of Christianity depends, were 
 public in their own nature; and therefore, if they had 
 not been matters of fact, the cheat must have been 
 unavoidably detected, especially when so many were 
 concerned to detect it. 
 
 Farther : Christianity met with the most strenuous 
 opposition from all the powers of the earth. The Jew- 
 ish rulers and most of the populace were implacable 
 enemies ; and as they lived on the spot where its 
 miraculous attestations were said to be given, it was 
 in their power to crush it in its birth, and never have 
 suffered it to spread farther, had it not been attended 
 with invincible evidence. All the power of the Roman 
 empire was also exerted for its extirpation ; and its 
 propagators and disciples could expect no profit or 
 pleasure by it, but Mere assured from the posture of 
 affairs, from daily experience, and from the predictions 
 of their master, that they should meet with shame, 
 persecution, and death itself in its most tremendous 
 shapes ; and in the next world they could expect 
 nothing, even according to their own doctrine, bt:t 
 everlasting damnation, if they were wilful impostors: 
 and yet, in spite of all these discouragements, they 
 courageously persisted in their testimony to the last, 
 though they might have secured their lives, and helped 
 their fortunes (as Judas did), by retracting it; nay, 
 their testimony prevailed in defiance of all opposition; 
 multitudes in all nations then known embraced the 
 faith, though they expected tortures and death for it ; 
 and. i:i a few centuries, the vast and mighty Roman
 
 6"2 The Dhine Authority and Sufficiency SerM. 1. 
 
 empire submitted to the religion of a crucified Jesus. 
 And who were those mighty heroes that thus triumphed 
 over the world ! Why, to our surprize, 
 
 The instruments of the propagation of Christianity 
 were a company of poor mechanics; publicans, tent- 
 makers, and fishermen, from the despised nation of the 
 Jews ! And by what strange powers or arts did they 
 make these extensive conquests? 
 
 The measures they took were a plain declaration of 
 their religion ; and they wrought miracles for its con- 
 firmation. They did not use the power of the sword, 
 no secular terrors, or bribery; they were without learn- 
 ing, without the arts of reasoning and persuasion; and 
 without all the usual artifices of seducers to gain credit 
 to their imposture. 
 
 Here I cannot but take particular notice of that 
 matchless simplicity that appears in the history of 
 Christ and his apostles. The evangelists write in that 
 artless, calm, and unguarded manner, winch is natural 
 to persons confident of the undeniable truth of what 
 they assert ; they do not write with that scrupulous 
 caution which would argue any fear that they might 
 be confuted. They simply relate the naked facts, and 
 leave them to stand upon their own evidence. They 
 relate the most amazing, the most moving things, with 
 the most cool serenity, without any passionate excla- 
 mations and warm reflections. For example, they 
 relate the most astonishing miracles, as the resurrec- 
 tion of Lazarus, in the most simple, and as it were, 
 careless manner, without breaking out and celebrating 
 the divine power of Christ. In the same manner they 
 relate the most tragical circumstances of his condem- 
 nation and death, calmly mentioning matter of fact, 
 without any invectives against the Jews, without any 
 high eulogies upon Christ's innocence, without any 
 rapturous celebrations of his grace in suffering all 
 these things for sinners, and without any tender lamen- 
 tations over their deceased master. It is impossible 
 for a heart so deeply impressed with such things, as 
 theirs undoubtedly were, to retain this dispassionate 
 serenity, unless laid under supernatural restraints; and 
 there appears very good reasons for this restraint upon
 
 Serm. 1. of the Christian Religion. 63 
 
 them, viz. that the gospel-history might carry intrinsic 
 evidences of its simplicity and artless impartiality; and 
 that it might appear adapted to convince the judg- 
 ments of men, and not meivlv to raise their passions. 
 In this respect, the gospel-history is distinguished 
 from all histories in the world : and can we think so 
 plain, so undisguised,, so artless a composure, the con- 
 trivance of designing impostors? Would not a con- 
 sciousness that they might be detected keep them 
 more upon their guard, and make them more ready 
 to anticipate and confine objections, and take every 
 artifice to recommend their cause, and prepossess the 
 reader in its favour? 
 
 It only remains under this head, that I should 
 
 (4.) Shew that the religion of Jesus proposes suffi- 
 cient excitements to influence our faith and practice. 
 
 To enforce a system of doctrines and precepts, two 
 things are especially necessary : that they should be 
 made duty by competent authority, and matters of 
 interest by a sanction of rewards and punishments, 
 To which I may add, that the excitements are still 
 stronger, when we are laid under the gentle obligations 
 of gratitude. In all these respects the christian reli- 
 gion has the most powerful enforcements. 
 
 The authority upon which we are required to receive 
 the doctrines, and observe the precepts of Christianity, 
 is no less than the authority of God, the supreme 
 Lawgiver and infallible Teacher ; whose wisdom to 
 prescribe and right to command, are indisputable ; and 
 we may safely submit our understandings to his in- 
 structions, however mysterious, and our wills to his 
 injunctions, however difficult they may seem to us. 
 This gives the religion of Jesus a binding authority 
 upon the consciences of men; which is absolutely 
 necessary to bring piety and virtue into practice in 
 the world; for if men are left at liberty, they will 
 follow their own inclinations, however wicked and 
 pernicious. And in this respect Christianity bears a 
 glorious preference to all the systems of morality com- 
 posed by the heathen philosophers; for though there 
 were many good things in them, yet who gave autho- 
 rity to Socrates, Piato, or Seneca, to assume the
 
 6i The Divine Authority and Sufficiency S**r&. l. 
 
 province of lawgivers and dictators to mankind, and 
 prescribe to their consciences ? All they could do was 
 to teach, to advise, to persuade, to reason: but man- 
 kind were at liberty, after all, whether to take their 
 advice or not. And this shews the necessity of super- 
 natural revelation, not merely to make known things 
 beyond human apprehension, but to enforce with pro- 
 per authority such duties as might he discovered by 
 man; since without it they would not have the bind- 
 ing force of a law. 
 
 As to the sanction of rewards and punishments in 
 Christianity, they are such as become a God to annex 
 to his majestic law, such as are agreeable to creatures 
 formed for immortality, and such as would have the 
 most effectual tendency to encourage obedience, and 
 prevent sin ; they arc no less than the most perfect 
 happiness and misery which human nature is capable 
 of, and that through an endless duration. If these 
 are not sufficient to allure rational creatures to obedi- 
 ence, then no considerations that can be proposed can 
 have any effect. These tend to alarm our hopes and 
 our fears, the most vigorous springs of human activity; 
 and if these have no effect upon us, nothing that God 
 can reveal, or our minds conceive, will have any effect. 
 God, by adding the greatest sanctions possible to his 
 law, has taken the best possible precautions to prevent 
 disobedience; and since even these do not restrain 
 men from it, we are sure that less would not suffice. 
 If men will go on in sin, though they believe the 
 punishment due to it will be eternal, then much more 
 would they persist in it, if it were not eternal; or, if 
 they say they will indulge themselves in sin, because 
 they believe it is not eternal, then this proves from 
 their own mouth, that it should be eternal in order 
 to restrain them. The prevalence of sin in the world 
 tends, to render it miserable; and therefore, to prevent 
 it, as well as to display God's eternal regard to moral 
 goodness, it is lit that he should annex the highest 
 degree of punishment to disobedience in every indi- 
 vidual ; for the indulgence of sin in one individual 
 would be a temptation to the whole rational creation; 
 and, on the other hand, the threatenings of everlast-
 
 Serm. K of the Christian Religion. G*j 
 
 ing punishment to all sinners indefinitely, is necessary 
 to deter the whole rational world, and every particular 
 person from disobedience. Thus, in civil government* 
 it is necessary that robbery should be threatened inde- 
 finitely with death, because, though one robber may 
 take from a man but what he can very well spare ; yet 
 if every man might rob and plunder his neighbour* 
 the consequence would be universal robbery and eon- 
 fi*sion. It is therefore necessary that the greatest 
 punishment should be threatened to disobedience, both 
 to prevent it aud to testify the divine displeasure 
 against it; which is the primary design of the threat-; 
 ening; and since the penalty was annexed with this 
 view, it follows,, that it was primarily enacted with a 
 view to the happiness of mankind, by preventing what 
 would naturally make them miserable, and but seconda- 
 rily with a view to be executed; for it is to be executed 
 only upon condition of disobedience; which disobe- 
 dience it was intended to prevent, and consequently 
 it was not immediately intended to be executed, or 
 enacted for the sake of the execution, as though God 
 took a malignant pleasure in the misery of his crea- 
 tures. But when the penalty has failed of its primary 
 end, restraining from sin, then it is fit it should 
 answer its secondary end, and be executed upon the 
 offender, to keep the rest of reasonable creatures in 
 their obedience, to illustrate the veracity and holiness 
 of the lawgiver, and prevent his government from fall- 
 ing into contempt. There are the same reasons that 
 thrcatenings should be executed when denounced, as 
 for their being denounced at first ; for thrcatenings 
 never executed, are the same with no threatenings at 
 all. 
 
 Let me add, that the gospel lays us under the 
 strongest obligations from gratitude. It not only clear- 
 ly informs us of our obligations to God, as the Author 
 of our being and all our temporal blessings, which 
 natural religion more faintly discovers, but superadds 
 those more endearing ones derived from the scheme 
 of man's redemption through the death of the eternal 
 Son of God. Though the blessings of creation and 
 providence are great in themselves, they are swallowed 
 
 \ol. r. f
 
 66 Th e Dhbi t Authority and Suffkien cy S e u m . \ . 
 
 tip, as it were, and lost in the love of God; which is 
 commended to us by tills matchless circumstance, 
 " that while we were vet sinners, Christ died for us :" 
 and while under the constraints of this love, we can- 
 not but devote ourselves entirely to God. *2 Corinth. 
 v. 14, 16. 
 
 Thus I have hinted at a few things. among the ma- 
 ny that might be mentioned to prove the divinity of 
 the religion of Jesus, and its sufficiency to bring men 
 to repentance and salvation. And if it be so, why 
 should it be rejected, or another sought ? This reminds 
 me that I promised, 
 
 II. To expose the vanity and unreasonableness of 
 the objections against the Christian Religion, or of 
 demanding another, c. 
 
 What can our ingenious infidels offer against what 
 lias been said ? It must be something very weighty 
 indeed to preponderate all this evidence. A laugh* 
 or a sneer, a pert witticism, declaiming against priest- 
 craft and the prejudices of education, artful evasions, 
 and shallow sophisms, the usual arguments of our 
 pretended free-thinkers, these will not suffice to 
 banter us out of our joyful confidence of the divinity 
 of the religion of Jesus ; and I may add, these will 
 not suffice to indemnity them. Nothing will be suf- 
 ficient for this but demonstration ; it lies upon them 
 to prove the christian religion to be certainly false ; 
 otherwise, unless they are hardened to a prodigy, they 
 must be racked with anxious fears lest they should 
 find it true at last to their cost ; and lest that dismal 
 threatening should stand firm against them : lie that 
 helievcth nut, .shaft he damned. What mighty objec- 
 tions, then, have they to oiler? Will they say that the 
 christian religion contains mysterious doctrines, which 
 they cannot comprehend, which seem to them unac- 
 countable ? As that of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and 
 Satisfaction of Christ, $c. But will they advance their 
 understanding to be the universal standard of truth ? 
 Will they pretend to comprehend the infinite God in 
 their finite minds ? then let them go, and measure the 
 heavens with a span, and comprehend the ocean in the 
 hollow^ of their hand-. Will they pretend to understand
 
 Serji. 1. bf the Christhin Religion. 67 
 
 the divine nature, when they cannot understand their 
 own ? when they cannot account for or explain the 
 union betwixt their own souls and bodies ? Will they 
 reject mysteries in Christianity, when they must own 
 them ill every thins: else ? Let them first solve all the 
 phoenomena in nature; let them give us a rational 
 theory of the infinite divisibility of a piece of finite 
 matter ; let them account for the seemingly magical 
 operation of the loadstone ; the circulation of the 
 blood upwards as well as downwards, contrary to all 
 the laws of motion ; let them inform us of the causes 
 of the cohesion of the particles of matter; let them 
 tell us, how spirits can receive ideas from material 
 organs ; how they hear and see, 8$c. Let them give 
 us intelligible theories of these things, and then they 
 may, with something of a better grace, set up for 
 critics upon God and his ways ; but, while they are 
 mysteries to themselves, while every particle of mat- 
 ter baffles their understandings, it is the most impious 
 intellectual pride to reject Christianity upon the account 
 of its mysteries, and to set up themselves as the supreme 
 judges of truth. 
 
 Or will they object that there are a great many dif- 
 ficult and strange passages in scripture, the meaning 
 and propriety of which they do not see ? And are there 
 not many strange things in the book of nature, and 
 the administration of Providence, the design and use 
 of which they cannot see, many things that to them 
 seem wrong and ill-contrived ? Yet they own the 
 world was created by God, and that his providence 
 rules it : and why will they not allow that the scrip- 
 tures mav be from God, notwithstanding these dif- 
 ficulties and seeming incongruities? When a learned 
 man can easily raise his discourse above the capacity 
 of common people, will they not condescend to grant 
 that an infinite God can easily overshoot their little 
 souls? Indeed a revelation which we could fully com- 
 prehend, would not appear the production of an infinite 
 mind ; it would bear no resemblance to its Heavenly 
 Father; and therefore we should have reason to sus- 
 pect it spurious. It is necessary we should meet with 
 difficulties in the scriptures to mortify our pride. I3ut 
 
 1 ; 8
 
 6S The dkine Authority and Sufficiency Seiui. 1. 
 
 farther, will they make no allowance for the different 
 customs and practices of different ages? It is certain, 
 that may be proper and graceful in one age which would 
 be ridiculous and absurd in another ; and since the 
 scriptures were written so many years ago, we may 
 safely make this allowance for them, which will remove 
 many seeming absurdities. There should also allowance 
 be made for the scriptures being rendered literally out 
 of dead difficult languages ; for we know that ma- 
 ny expressions may be beautiful and significant in 
 one language, which would be ridiculous and non- 
 sensical if literally translated into another. Were 
 Homer or Virgil thus translated into English, without 
 regard to the idiom of the language, instead of admir- 
 ing their beauties, we should be apt to think (as Cowley 
 expresses it) "that one madman had translated another 
 madman." 
 
 Will they object the wicked lives of its professors 
 against the holiness and good tendency of Christianity 
 itself? But is it Christianity, as practised in the world, 
 or Christianity as taught by Christ and his apostles, 
 and contained in the Bible, that I am proving to be 
 divine? You know it is the latter, and consequently 
 the poor appearance it makes in the former sense, is 
 no argument against its purity and divinity in tills. 
 Again, are the had lives of professors taught and en- 
 joined by genuine Christianity, and agreeable to it ? 
 No ; they are quite contrary to it, and subversive 
 of it; and it is so far from encouraging such profes- 
 sors, that it pronounces them miserable hypocrites; 
 and their doom will be nunc severe than that of hea- 
 thens. Again, are there not hypocritical professors of 
 morality and natural religion, as well as of revealed ? 
 Are there not many who cry up morality and the reli- 
 gion of nature, and yet boldly violate its plainest pre- 
 cepts ? If therefore this be a sufficient objection 
 against Christianity, it must be so too against all reli- 
 gion, further : do men grow better by renouncing 
 the religion of Jesus ? Observation assures us quite 
 the contrary, finally, Are there not some of the pro- 
 fessors of Christianity, who live habitually according 
 to it ? who give us the best patterns of piety and vir-
 
 S e mr . 1 . of tlic Ch rhtlan 7? eligion, 69 
 
 tue that ever were exhibited to the world ? This is 
 sufficient to vindicate the religion they profess, and it 
 is highly injurious to involve such promiscuously in 
 the odium and contempt due to bare-faced hypocrites. 
 How would this reasoning' please the Deists them- 
 selves in parallel cases ? " Some that have no regard 
 to Christianity have been murderers, thieves, &c. there- 
 tore all that disregard it arc such,"' Or " some that 
 pretended to be honest, have been found villains; there- 
 fore all that pretend to it are such; or therefore hones- 
 ty is no virtue." 
 
 Or will they change the note, and instead of plead- 
 ing that Christianity leads to licentiousness, object 
 that it hears too hard upon the pleasures of mankind, 
 and lays them under too severe restraints ? Or that its 
 penalties are excessive and cruel ? But does it rob 
 mankind, of any pleasure worthy the rational nature, 
 worthy the pursuit of creatures formed for immortality, 
 and consistent with the good of the whole ? It restrains 
 them indeed, but it is only as a physician restrains his 
 patient from poison or an improper regimen ; it re- 
 strains men from living like beasts: it restrains them 
 from those pleasures which will ruin their souls and 
 bodies in the event ; it restrains them from gratify- 
 ing a private passion at the expence of the public ; 
 in short, it restrains them from making themselves 
 and others mis Table. Hard restraints indeed! and 
 the Deists, to he sure, are generous patrons of human 
 liberty, who would free us from such grievances as 
 these! However, this objection lets us into the secret, 
 and informs us of the reason why our pretended 
 free-thinkers are such enemies to Christianity : it 
 is because it cheeks their lusts, and will not permit 
 them to act, as well as to think freely, /'. e. as they 
 please. If they would content themselves with manly 
 and rational pleasures, they would not count the re- 
 straints of Christianity intolerable ; nay they would find 
 in it a set of peculiarly noble and refined pleasures, 
 which they might seek in vain elsewhere; for it is so 
 far from being an enemy to the happiness of man, 
 that it was designed to promote it ; and then we make 
 ourselves miserable when we reject it. or it becomes
 
 TO The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. 1. 
 
 our interest that it should be false. As to the penalty 
 of everlasting punishment annexed to sin, which is but; 
 a temporal evil, I would ask them whether they are 
 competent judges in a matter in which they are par- 
 ties? Are they capable to determine what degree of 
 punishment should be inflicted upon disobedience to 
 the infinite Majesty of heaven, when they are not only 
 short-sighted creatures, hut also concerned in the 
 affair, and their judgments may be perverted by self- 
 interest ? Whether is it most fit that the .Judge of all 
 the earth should determine this point, or a company of 
 malefactors, as they are? Is it allowed to criminals 
 in civil courts to determine their own doom, and pro- 
 nounce their own sentence ? If it were, few of them 
 would he punished at all, and government would fall 
 into contempt. Again, let me remind them, that the 
 penalty was annexed to prevent disobedience, and so 
 to render the execution needless; and consequently it 
 was primarily intended for their good. Why then will 
 they frustrate this design, and, when they have rendered 
 theexecution necessary, complain of its severity ? If they 
 think the penalty so terrible, let them watch against sin, 
 let them accept the salvation the gospel offers, and so 
 avoid it instead of quarrelling with its severity, and yet 
 rushing upon it. Or, if they say they will persist in 
 sin because they do not believe the punishment is 
 eternal; this gives me room to appeal to themselves 
 whether a less penalty than everlasting misery would 
 he sufficient to restrain them from sin? and whether 
 God would have taken all proper precautions to pre- 
 vent sin, if he had annexed a le,ss punishment to hist 
 law, since, by their own confession, nothing less could 
 deter them from it ? I shall only add, that as the 
 human soul must always exist, and as by indulgence 
 in sin in the present state it contracts such habits as 
 rendeis it incapable of happiness, in the holy enjoyment 
 of the heavenly world, it must by a natural necessity 
 he for ever miserable, though God should not exert 
 any positive act for its punishment. And if the Deists 
 say, that punishment for some time would reclaim 
 offenders from sin, and bring them to repentance, the 
 difficulty is not re-moved, unless they can prove that
 
 Sr. r it . 1 . : of this Christian Religion* 7 1 
 
 misery will bring men to love that God who inflicts it, 
 which they can never do ; and it is evident, that that 
 repentance which proceeds merely from self-love, with- 
 out any regard to God at all, can never be pleasing- to 
 him, nor prepare them for happiness in the enjoyment 
 of him. Punishment would produce a repentance like 
 that of a sick-bed, forced, servile, and transitory. 
 
 Will they object, that miracles are not a sufficient 
 evidence of the truth and divinity of a revelation, be- 
 cause infernal spirits may also work miracles, as in the 
 case of the magicians of Egypt, to confirm an impos- 
 ture? lint it is known that our free-thinkers explode 
 and laugh at the existence and power of evil spirits ^in 
 other cases, and therefore must not be allowed to ad- 
 mit them here to serve a turn. However, we grant 
 there are infernal spirits, and that they can perform 
 many things above human power, which may appear to 
 us miraculous, and yet the evidence in favour of Chris- 
 tianity taken from miracles stands unshaken; for (1) 
 Can we suppose that these malignant and wicked 
 spirits, whose business it is to seduce men to sin and ruin, 
 would he willing to exert their power to work miracles 
 to confirm so holy a religion; a religion so contrary to 
 their design, and so subversive of their kingdom and 
 interest? This would he wretched policy indeed. Or 
 if we should suppose them willing, yet, (2) Can we 
 think that God, who has them all at his control, would 
 suffer them to counterfeit the great seal of heaven, and 
 annex it to an imposture? that is, to work such mira- 
 cles as could not be distinguished from those wrought 
 by him to attest an imposture ? Would he permit them 
 to impose upon mankind in a maimer that could not be 
 detected ? This would be to deliver the world to their 
 management, and suffer them to lead them blindfold 
 to hell in unavoidable delusion : for miracles are such 
 dazzling and pompous evidences, that the general 
 run of mankind could not resist them, even though 
 they were wrought to attest a religion that might be 
 demonstrated by a long train of sublime reasoning to 
 be false. God may indeed suffer the devil to mimic 
 the miracles wrought by his immediate hand, as in the 
 case of Janncs and Jambrcs ; but then, as in that case 
 
 F 4
 
 7i * The divine Authority and Sufficiency Serm. h 
 
 too, he will take care toexeel them, and give some distin- 
 guishing marks of his almighty agency, which all man- 
 kind may easily discriminate from the utmost exertion 
 of infernal power. But though Satan should be willing 
 and God should permit him to work miracles, yet, (3) 
 Can we suppose that all the powers of hell united, 
 are able to work such astonishing miracles as were 
 wrought for the confirmation of the christian religion? 
 Can we suppose that they can control the laws of na* 
 ture at pleasure, and that with an air of sovereignty, 
 and professing themselves the lords of the universe, as 
 we know Christ did? If we can believe this, then we 
 deify them, and may as well ascribe the creation and 
 preservation of the world to them. If they could ex-^ 
 jert a creating power to form new limbs for the maimed, 
 or to multiply five loaves and two fishes into a suffice 
 ent quantity of food for five thousand, and leave a 
 /greater quantity of fragments when that were done 
 than the whole provision at first, then they might cre- 
 ate the world, and support all the creatures in it. If 
 they could animate the dead and remand the separate 
 soul back to its former habitation, reunite it with the 
 body, then I see not why they might not have given 
 us life at first. But to suppose this, would be to de- 
 throne the King of Heaven, and renounce his provi- 
 dence entirely. We therefore rest assured that the mi- 
 racles related in the scriptures were wrought by the fin- 
 ger of God. 
 
 But our free-thinkers will urge, how do we at this 
 distance know that such miracles were actually 
 wrought? they are only related in scripture-history; 
 but to prove the truth of scripture from arguments that 
 suppose the scripture true, is a ridiculous method of 
 reasoning, and only a begging of the question. But- 
 (1.) the reality of those miracles was granted by the 
 enemies of Christianity in their writings against it; 
 and they had no answer to make, but this sorry one, 
 that they were wrought by the power of magic. They 
 never durst deny that they were wrought; for they 
 knew all' the World could prove it. Indeed an honour- 
 able testimony concerning them could not be expected 
 from infidels ; for it would be utterly inconsistent tha$
 
 Sdrm. h vf the Christian Religion, 73 
 
 they should own these miracles sufficient attestations of 
 Christianity, ami yet continue infidels. And this may 
 answer an unreasonable demand of the Deists, that we 
 should produce some honourable testimony concerning 
 these attestations from Jews and Heathens, as well as 
 from Christians, who were parties. We should have 
 much more reason to suspect the testimony of the 
 former as not convictive when it did not convince the 
 persons themselves. But, 
 
 (2.) As these miracles were of so public a nature, 
 and so many were concerned to detect them, that they 
 would unavoidably have been detected when related in 
 words if they had not been done ; so, for the same 
 reasons, they could not but have been detected when 
 related in writing; and this we know they never were. 
 It' these miracles had not been matters of undoubted 
 fact, they could not have been inserted at first in the 
 gospel-history ; for then many thousands in various 
 countries were alive to confute them ; and they could 
 not have been intruded into it afterwards, for all the 
 world would see that it was then too late, and that if 
 there had been such things, they should have heard of 
 them before : for they were much more necessary for 
 the first propagation of Christianity than for its sup- 
 port when received. 
 
 But it may be objected, How can we at this dis- 
 tance know that these histories are genuine? May they 
 not have been corrupted, and many additions made to 
 them by designing men in ages since? And why is 
 it not also asked, how do we know that there were 
 such men as Alexander, Julius Caesar, or King Wil- 
 liam the Third? How dd we know but their histories 
 are all romance and fable! How do we know that there 
 were any generations of mankind before ourselves ? 
 How do we know but all the acts of parliament of 
 former reigns are corrupted, and we are ruled by im- 
 positions? In short, How can we know any thing, but 
 what we have seen with our eyes? We may as well 
 make difficulties of all these things, and so destroy all 
 human testimony, as scruple the genuineness of the 
 sacred writings; for never were any writings conveyed 
 down with so good evidence of their being genuine
 
 Y The Dkine Authority and Sttffiticncy Sf:r*t. T, 
 
 and corrupted as these. Upon their first publication 
 they were put into all hands, they were scattered into 
 all nations, translated into various languages, and all 
 perused them ; either to be taught by them, or to cavil 
 at them. And ever since, they have been quoted by 
 thousands of authors, appealed to by all parties of 
 christians as the supreme judge of controversies ; and 
 not only the enemies of Christianity have carefully 
 watched them to detect any alterations which pious- 
 fraud might attempt to make, but one sect of chris- 
 tians has kept a watchful eye over the other, lest they 
 should alter any thing in favour of their own cause.- 
 And it is matter of astonishment, as well as conviction, 
 that all the various copies and translation of the scrip- 
 tures in different nations and libraries are substantially 
 the same, and differ only in matters of small moment ; 
 so that from the worst copy or translation in the 
 world, one might easily learn the substance of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 Or will our infidels insist to be eye-witnesses of these 
 fact?.- Must one arise from the dead, or new miracles 
 be wrought to convince them by ocular demonstration? 
 This is a most unreasonable demand, for (1.) The con- 
 tinuance of miracles in every age would be attended 
 with numerous inconveniences. For example, Multi- 
 tudes must be born blind, deaf, or dumb ; multitudes 
 must be afilictcd with incurable diseases, and possessed 
 by evil spirits; multitudes must be. disturbed in the 
 sleep of death ; and all the laws of nature must be 
 made precarious and fickle, in order to leave room for 
 miraculous operations; and all this to humour a com- 
 pany of obstinate infidels, who would not believe upon 
 less striking though entirely sufficient evidence. (2), 
 The continuance of miracles from age to age would 
 destroy their very nature, to which it is essential, 
 that they may be rare and extraordinary ; for what is 
 ordinary and frequent, we are apt to ascribe to the 
 established laws of nature, however wonderful it be 
 in itself. For example, if we saw dead bodies rise 
 from their graves, as often as we see vegetables spring 
 from seed rotten in the earth, we should be no more 
 surprised at the one phenomenon than we are at \\\t
 
 Serm. h of the Christian Religion. 75 
 
 other, and our virtuosi, would be equally busy to 
 assign some natural cause to both. 
 
 And had we never seen the sun rise until this 
 morning, we should justly have accounted it as 
 great a miracle as any recorded in the scriptures; but 
 because it is common, we neglect it as a thing of 
 course. Indeed, it is not any thing in the event itself* 
 or in the degree of power necessary for its accomplish- 
 ment, that renders it miraculous, but its being uncom- 
 mon, and out of the ordinary course of things; for 
 example, the generation of the human body is not in 
 itself less astonishing, nor does it require less power, 
 than its resurrection: the revolution of the sun in it* 
 regular course, is as wonderful, and as much requires a 
 divine power, as its standing still in the days of 
 Joshua. But we acknowledge a miracle in the one 
 case, but not in the other, because the one is extra- 
 ordinary, while the other frequently occurs. Hence 
 it follows, that the frequent repetition of miracles, as 
 often as men are pleased to plead the want of evidence 
 to excuse their infidelity, would destroy their very 
 nature; and consequently, to demand their continu- 
 ance is to demand an impossibility. But (3). Suppose 
 that men should be indulged in this request, it would 
 not probably bring them to believe. If they are un- 
 believers now, it is not for want of evidence, but 
 through wilful blindness and obstinacy ; and as they 
 that will shut their eyes can see no more in meridian 
 light than in the twilight, so they that reject a suffi- 
 ciency of evidence would also resist a superfluity of 
 it. Thus the Jews, who were eye-witnesses of the 
 miracles recorded in the scriptures, continued invin- 
 cible infidels still. They had always some trifling cavil 
 ready to object against the brightest evidence. And 
 thus our modern infidels would no doubt evade the 
 force of the most miraculous attestation by some 
 wretched hypothesis or other : they would look upon 
 miracles either as magical productions, or illusions of 
 their senses; or rather, as natural and necessary events, 
 which they would indeed have some reason to con- 
 clude, if they were frequently performed before their 
 eyes. Some have pretended to doubt of the existence
 
 76 The Divine Authority and Sufficiency Sekm. 1. 
 
 and perfections of God, notwithstanding the evidences 
 thereof upon this magnificent structure of the uni- 
 verse; and must God be always creating new worlds 
 before these obstinate creatures for their conviction ? 
 Such persons have as much reason to demand it in this 
 case, as our Deists have to insist for new miracles in the 
 other. I might add, that such glaring evidence, as, 
 like the light of the sun, would force itself irresistibly 
 upon the minds of the most reluctant, Mould not leave 
 room for us to shew our regard to God in believing, 
 for we should then believe from extrinsic necessity, 
 and not from choice. It is therefore most correspond- 
 ent to our present state of probation, that there should 
 be something in the evidence of a divine revelation to 
 try us; something that might fully convince the teach- 
 able, and yet not remove all umbrages for cavilling 
 from the obstinate. 
 
 Thus I have answered as many objections as the 
 bounds of a sermon would admit; and I think they 
 are the principal ones which lie against my subject in 
 the view I have considered it. And as I have not 
 designedly selected the weakest, in order to an easy 
 triumph, you may look upon the answers that have 
 been given as a ground of rational presumption, that 
 all other objections may be answered with equal ease. 
 Indeed, if they could not, it would not invalidate 
 the positive arguments in favour of Christianity ; for 
 when we have sufficient positive evidence for a thing, 
 we do not reject it, because it is attended with some 
 difficulties which we cannot solve. 
 
 My time will allow me to make but two or three 
 short reflections upon the whole. 
 
 1. If the religion of Jesus be attested with such full 
 evidence, and be sufficient to conduct men to everlast- 
 ing felicity, then how helpless are they that have 
 enjoyed it all their life without profit ; who either 
 reject it as false, or have not felt its power to reform 
 their hearts and lives ? It is the last remedy provided 
 for a guilty world; and if this fails, their disease is 
 incurable, and they are not to expect better means. 
 
 2. If the religion of Jesus be true, then woe unto 
 the wicked of all sorts; woe to infidels, both practical
 
 Serm. 1. of the Christian religion. 77 
 
 and speculative, for all the curses of it are in full 
 force against them, and I need not tell you bow dread- 
 ful they are. 
 
 3. If the religion of Jesus be true,, then I congra- 
 tulate such of you, whose hearts and. lives are habi- 
 tually conformed to it, and who have ventured your 
 everlasting All upon it. You build upon a sure fount 
 dation, and your hope shall never make you ashamed. 
 
 Finally, Let us all strive to become rational and 
 practical believers of this heaven-born religion. Let 
 our understandings be more rationally and thoroughly 
 convinced of its truth ; and our hearts and lives be 
 more and more conformed to its purity; and ere long 
 we shall receive those glorious rewards it ensures to all- 
 ies sincere disciples; which may God grant to us all, 
 for Jesus' sake. Amen !
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 The Method of Salvation through Jesus 
 
 Christ. 
 
 John iii. lG. 
 
 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son* 
 that whosoever belicveth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
 lasting life. 
 
 IHave been solicitously thinking in what way my 
 life, redeemed from the grave, may be of most ser- 
 vice to my dear people. And I would collect all the 
 feeble remains of my strength into one vigorous effort 
 this day to promote this benevolent end. If I knew 
 what subject has the most direct tendency to save your 
 souls, that is the subject to which my heart would 
 cling with peculiar endearment, and which I would 
 make the matter of the present discourse. 
 
 And when I consider I am speaking to an assembly 
 of sinners, guilty, depraved, helpless creatures, and 
 that, if ever you be saved, it will be only through Jesus 
 Christ, in that way which the gospel reveals; when I 
 consider that your everlasting life and happiness turn 
 upon this hinge, namely, the reception you give to 
 this Saviour, and this way of salvation; I say, when I 
 consider these things, I can think of no subject I can 
 more properly choose than to recommend the Lord 
 Jesus to your acceptance, and to explain and inculcate 
 the method of salvation through his mediation; or, in 
 other words, to preach the pure gospel to you; for the 
 gospel, in the most proper sense, is nothing else but a 
 revelation of a way of salvation for sinners of Adam's 
 race. 
 
 My text furnishes me with proper materials for my 
 purpose. Let heaven and earth hear it with wonder,
 
 Serm, I. The Method of Sarvatiov. 79 
 
 joy, and raptures of praise! God so loved the world, that 
 he govt his only begotten Son, that whosoever, or that 
 every one that believeth in him should not perish, but 
 have everlasting life. 
 
 This is a part of the most important evening' conver- 
 sation that ever was held; I mean that between Christ 
 and Ntcodemus, a Pharisee and ruler of the Jews. 
 Our Lord first instructs him in the doctrine of regene- 
 ration, that grand constituent of a christian, and pre- 
 requisite to our admission into the kingdom of heaven; 
 and then he proceeds to inform him of the gospel me- 
 thod of salvation, which contains these two grand ar- 
 ticles, the death of Christ, as the great foundation of 
 blessedness; and faith in him, as the great qualification 
 upon the part of the sinner. lie presents this impor- 
 tant doctrine to us in various forms, with a very sio-ni- 
 ficant repetition. .-Is Moses lifted up the serpent in 
 the wilderness, even so shall the Son of man be lifted 
 p , that is, hung on high on a cross, that "whosoever 
 tttlievctk in him should not perish, but have everlast- 
 ing life. Then follows my text, which expresses the 
 same doctrine with great force: God so loved the world, 
 that he gave his only begotten Son, gave him up to 
 death, that zvhosoever believeth in him should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life. He goes on to men- 
 tion a wonder. This earth is a rebellious province of 
 Jehovah's dominions, and therefore if his Son should 
 ever visit it, one would think it would be as an 
 angry judge, or as the executioner of his Father's 
 vengeance. But, O astonishing! God sent not his 
 Son into the world to condemn the world, but that 
 the world through him might be saved. Hence the 
 terms of life and death are thus fixed, He that be- 
 lieveth in him is not condemned : but he that believeth 
 not is condemned already, because he hath not believed 
 in the name of the only begotten Son of God. Sure the 
 heavenly rivers of pleasure tlow in these verses ! Never, 
 methinks, was there so much gospel expressed in so 
 few words! Here take the gospel in miniature, and 
 bind it to your hearts for ever. These verses alone, 
 methinks, arc a sufficient remedy for a dying world.
 
 80 Tlic Method of Salvation Sjerii. 2. 
 
 The truths I would infer from the text for present 
 improvement are these : that without Christ you are 
 all in a perishing condition ; that through Jesus Christ 
 a way is opened for your salvation; that the grand 
 pre-requisite to your being saved in this way, is faith 
 in Jesus Christ; that every one, without exception, 
 "whatever his former character has been, that is enabled 
 to comply with this pre-requisite, shall certainly be 
 saved; and that the constitution of this method of 
 salvation, or the mission of Christ into our world, as 
 the Saviour of sinners, is a most striking and astonish- 
 ing instance and display of the love of God. 
 
 I. My text implies, that without Christ you are all 
 in a perishing condition. This holds true of you in 
 particular, because it holds true of the world univer- 
 sally : for the world was undoubtedly in a perishing 
 condition without Christ, and none but he could 
 relieve it, otherwise God would never have given his 
 only begotten Son to save it. God is not ostentatious 
 or prodigal of his gifts, especially of so inestimable 
 a gift as his Son, whom he loves infinitely more than 
 the whole creation. So great, so dear a person would 
 not have been sent upon a mission which could have 
 been discharged by any other being. Thousands of 
 rams must bleed in sacrifice, or ten thousands of rivers 
 of oil must flow; our first-born must die for our 
 transgressions, and the fruit of our body for the sin 
 of our souls; or Gabriel, or some of the upper ranks 
 of angels, must leave their thrones, and hang upon a 
 cross, if such methods of salvation had been sufficient. 
 All this would have been nothing in comparison of 
 the only begotten Son of God leaving his native 
 heaven, and all its glories, assuming our degraded 
 nature, spending thirty-three long .and tedious years 
 in poverty, disgrace, and persecution, dying as a 
 malefactor and a slave in the midst of ignominy and 
 torture, and lying a mangled breathless corpse in the 
 grave. We may he sure there was the highest degree 
 of necessity for it, otherwise God would not have 
 given up his dear Son to such an horrid scene of suf- 
 ferings.
 
 Sr.Rir. 2. through Jesus Christ. $f 
 
 Tliis, then, Mas the true state -of the world, and 
 consequently yours without Christ; it was hopeless 
 and desperate in every view. In that situation there 
 would not have been so much goodness in the world 
 as to try the efficacy of sacrifices, prayers, tears, re- 
 tbrmation, and repentance, or they would have been 
 tried in vain. It would have been inconsistent with 
 the honour ot* the divine perfections and government, 
 to admit sacrifices, prayers, tears, repentance, and 
 reformation, as a sufficient atonement. 
 
 What a melancholy view of the world have we now 
 before us! We know the state of mankind only under 
 the gracious government of a Mediator; and we but 
 seldom realize what our miserable condition would 
 have been, had this gracious administration never been 
 set up. But exclude a Saviour in your thoughts for 
 a moment, and then take a view of the world help- 
 less ! hopeless ! under the righteous displeasure of 
 God; and despairing of relief! the very suburbs of 
 hell ! the range of malignant devils ! the region of 
 guilt, misery, and despair ! the mouth of the infer- 
 nal pit ! the gate of hell ! This would have been 
 the condition of our world had it not been for that 
 Jesus who redeemed it: and vet in this very world he 
 is neglected and despised. 
 
 liut you will ask me, " How comes it that the 
 world was in such an undone, helpless, hopeless con- 
 dition without Christ : or what are the reasons of all 
 this?" 
 
 The true account of this will appear from these two 
 considerations, that all mankind'are sinners; and that 
 no other method but the mediation of Christ could 
 render the salvation of sinners consistent with the 
 honour of the divine perfections and government, 
 with the public good, and even with the nature of 
 things. 
 
 All mankind are sinners. This is too evident to 
 iced proof. They are sinners, rebels against the 
 greatest and best of I icings, against their Maker, their 
 liberal Benefactor, and their rightful Sovereign, to 
 whom they are under stronger and more endearing obli- 
 gations than thev can be under to any creature, or 
 
 \'oil (j
 
 85 The Method of Salvation Serm.2. 
 
 even to the entire system of creatures : sinners, rebels 
 in every part of our guilty globe ; none righteous, no, 
 not one; all sinners, without exception : sinners' from 
 age to age for thousands of years : thousands, mil- 
 lions, innumerable multitudes of sinners. What an 
 obnoxious race is this ! There appears no difficulty in 
 the way of justice to punish such creatures. But what 
 seeming insuperable difficulties appear in the way of 
 their salvation ! Let me mention a few of them to 
 recommend that blessed Saviour who has removed 
 them all. 
 
 If such sinners be saved, how shall the holiness and 
 justice of God be displayed ? How shall he give an 
 honourable view of himself to all worlds, as a Being 
 of perfect purity, and an enemy to all moral evil? 
 
 If such sinners be saved, how shall the honour of 
 the divine government and law be secured ? How will 
 the dignity of the law appear, if a race of rebels may 
 trifle with it with impunity ? What a sorry law must 
 that be that has no sanctions, or whose sanctions may 
 be dispensed with at pleasure ? W r hat a contemptible 
 government, that may be insulted and rejected, and 
 the offender admitted into favour without exemplary 
 punishment ! No government can subsist upon such 
 principles of excessive indulgence. 
 
 How can such sinners be saved, and yet the good 
 of the public secured, which is always the end of 
 every wise and good ruler? By the public good I do 
 not mean rhe happiness of mankind alone, but I mean 
 the happiness of all worlds of reasonable creatures col- 
 lectively, in compirison of which the happiness of 
 mankind alone may be only a private interest, which 
 should always give way to the public good. Now sin 
 has a direct tendency, not only according to law, but 
 according to the nature of things, to scatter misery 
 and ruin wherever its infection reaches. Therefore the 
 public good cannot be properly consulted without. 
 giving a loud and effectual warning against all sin, 
 and dealing with offenders in such a manner as to deter 
 others from offending. But how can this be done : 
 how can the sinner be saved, and yet the evil of sin 
 be displayed, and all other beings be deterred from it
 
 Serm. 2. through Jesus Christ 83 
 
 for ever ? How can sin be discouraged by pardoning 
 it? its evil displayed by letting the criminal escape 
 punishment ? These are such difficulties, that nothing 
 but divine wisdom could ever surmount them. 
 
 These difficulties lie in the way of a mere pardon 
 and exemption from punishment : but salvation in- 
 cludes more than this. When sinners are saved, they 
 are not only pardoned but received into high favour, 
 made the children, the friends, the courtiers of the 
 King of Heaven. They are not only delivered from 
 punishment, but also advanced to a state of perfect 
 positive happiness; and nothing short of this can 
 render such creatures as Ave happy. Now, in this 
 view, the difficulties rise still higher, and it is the 
 more worthy of observation, as this is not generally 
 the case in human governments ; and as men are apt 
 to form their notions of the divine government by 
 human, they are less sensible of these difficulties. - 
 But this is indeed the true state of the case here ; how 
 can the sinner be not only delivered from punishment, 
 but also advanced to a state of perfect happiness,* not 
 only escape the displeasure of his offended Sovereign, 
 but be received into full favour, and advanced to the 
 highest honour and dignity ; how can this be done 
 without casting a cloud over the purity and justice of 
 the Lord of all ; without sinking his law and govern- 
 ment into contempt, without diminishing the evil of 
 sin, and emboldening others to venture upon it, and 
 so at once injuring the character of the Supreme 
 Ruler, and the public good ? How can sinners, 1 say, 
 be saved without the salvation being attended with 
 these bad consequences ? 
 
 And here you must remember, that these conse- 
 quences must be provided against. To save men at 
 random, without considering the consequences, to 
 distribute happiness to private persons with an undis- 
 tinguishing hand, this would he at once inconsistent 
 with the character of the supreme Magistrate of the 
 universe, and with the public good. Private persons 
 are at liberty to forgive private offences; nay, it is 
 their duty to forgive; and they can hardly offend by 
 way of excess in the generous virtues of mercy and 
 
 G %
 
 '34- The Method of Salvation Serm. . 
 
 compassion. But the case is otherwise with a magis- 
 trate; he is obliged to consult the dignity of his 
 government and the interest of the public; and he 
 may easily carry his lenity to a very dangerous ex- 
 treme, and by his tenderness to criminals do an exten- 
 sive injury to the state. This is particularly the case 
 with regard to the great God, the universal supreme 
 Magistrate of all worlds. And this ought to be seri- 
 ously considered by those men of loose principles 
 among us, who look upon God only under the fond 
 character of a father, or a being of infinite mercy; 
 and thence conclude, they have little to fear from him 
 for all their audacious iniquities. There is no absolute 
 necessity that sinners should be saved : justice may be 
 suffered to take place upon them. But there is the most 
 absolute necessity that the Ruler of the world should 
 both be, and appear to be, holy and just. There is the 
 most absolute necessity that he should support the 
 dignity of his government, and guard it from con- 
 tempt, that he should strike all worlds with a proper 
 horror of sin, and represent it in its genuine infernal 
 colours, and so consult the good of the whole, rather 
 than a part. There is, I say, the highest and most 
 absolute necessity for these things; and they cannot 
 be dispensed with as matters of arbitrary pleasure. 
 And unless these ends can be answered in the salvation 
 of men, they cannot be saved at all. No, they must 
 all perish, rather than God should act out of character, 
 as the supreme Magistrate of the universe, or bestow 
 private favours to criminals, to the detriment of the 
 public. ' 
 
 And in this lay the difficulty. Gall a council of 
 all the sages and wise men of the world, and they can 
 never get over this difficulty, without borrowing as- 
 sistance from the gospel. Nay, this, no doubt, puzzled 
 all the angelic intelligences, who pry so deep into the 
 mysteries of heaven, before the gospel wss fully re- 
 vealed. Methinks the angels, when they saw the fall 
 of man, gave him up as desperate. "Alas ! (they cried) 
 the poor creature is gone ! he and all his numerous race 
 are lost for ever." This, they knew, had been the 
 doom of their fellow-angels that sinned; and could
 
 Serxi. 2. through Jesus Christ. 85 
 
 they hope better for man? Then they had not seen 
 any of the wonders of pardoning love and mercy; and 
 could they have once thought that that glorious per- 
 son, who rilled the middle throne, and was their Creator 
 and Lord, would ever become a man, and die, like a 
 criminal, to redeem an inferior rank of creatures? No, 
 this thought they would probably have shuddered at 
 as blasphemy. 
 
 And must we then give up ourselves and all our 
 race as lost beyond recovery ? There are huge and 
 seemingly insuperable difficulties in the way ; and we 
 have seen that neither men nor angels can prescribe 
 any relief. 13 tit sing, O ye heavens, for the Lord hath 
 done it : shout ye tower parts of the earth : break forth 
 into singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree 
 therein : for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glo- 
 rified himself in Israel, Isaiah xli v. 3. Which leads 
 me to add, 
 
 II. My text implies, that thro' Jesus Christ away 
 is opened for your salvation. lie, and he only was 
 found equal to the undertaking; and before him all 
 these mountains become a plain; all these difficulties 
 vanish ; and now God can be just, can secure the dig- 
 nity of his character, as the Ruler of the world, and 
 answer all the ends of government, and yet justify 
 and save the sinner that believeth in Jesus. 
 
 This is plainly implied in this glorious epitome of 
 the gospel : God so loved the world, that he gave his 
 only begotten Sou, that whosoever believeth in him 
 .should not perish, but have everlasting life. Without 
 this gift all was lost : but now, whosoever believeth 
 in him may be saved ; saved in a most honourable 
 way. This will appear more particularly if we con- 
 sider the tendency the mediation of Christ had to 
 remove the difficulties mentioned. lint I would pre- 
 mise two general remarks. 
 
 The first is, That God being considered in this affair 
 in his public character, as supreme Magistrate, or 
 Governor of the world, all the punishment which he 
 is concerned to see inflicted upon sin is only such as 
 answers the ends of government. Private revenge 
 must vent itself on the very person of the offender, 
 
 G j
 
 86 The Method of Saltation Serm. 2, 
 
 or be disappointed. But to a ruler, as such, it may 
 in some cases be indifferent, whether the punishment 
 be sustained by the very person that offended, or by 
 a substitute suffering in his stead. It may also be 
 indifferent whether the very same punishment, as to 
 kind and degree, threatened in the law, be inflicted, 
 or a punishment equivalent to it. If the honour of 
 the ruler and his government be maintained, if all 
 disobedience be properly discountenanced; if, in short, 
 all the ends of government can be answered, such 
 things as these are indifferences. Consequently, if 
 these ends should be answered by Christ's suffering in 
 the stead of sinners, there would be no objection 
 against it. This remark introduces another, namely, 
 (2.) That Jesus Christ was such a person that his suf- 
 fering as the substitute or surety of sinners, answered 
 all the ends of government which could be answered 
 by the execution of the punishment upon the sinners 
 themselves. To impose suffering upon the innocent, 
 when unwilling, is unjust ; but Jesus was willing 
 to undertake the dreadful task. And besides, he was a 
 person (sui juris) at. his own disposal, his own pro- 
 perty, and therefore he had a right to dispose of his 
 life as he pleased ; and there was a merit in his con- 
 senting to that which he was not obliged to previous 
 to his consent. He was also a person of infinite dig- 
 nity, and infinitely beloved by his Father; and these 
 considerations rendered the merit of his sufferings for 
 a short time, and another kind of punishment than 
 that of hell, equal, more than equal to the everlasting 
 sufferings of sinners themselves. Jesus Christ was 
 also above law ; that is, not obliged to be subject to 
 that law which he had made for his creatures, and 
 consequently his obedience to the law, not being 
 necessary for himself, might be imputed to others: 
 whereas creatures are incapable of works of superero- 
 gation, or of doing more than they are bound to do, 
 being obliged to obey their divine lawgiver for them- 
 selves to the utmost extent of their abilities, and con- 
 
 quently, their obedience, however perfect, can be 
 licient only for themselves, but cannot be imputed 
 
 > others. Thus it appears* in general, that the ends
 
 5erm. 3. through Jesus Christ. 87 
 
 of government are as effectually answered by the 
 sufferings of Christ in the room of sinners, as they 
 could be by the everlasting punishment of the sinners 
 themselves ; nay, we shall presently find they are 
 answered in a more striking and illustrious manner. 
 To mention particulars: 
 
 Was it necessary that the holiness and justice of 
 God should be displayed in the salvation of sinners? 
 See how bright they shine in a suffering Saviour ! 
 Now it appears that such is the holiness and justice of 
 God, that he will not let even his own Son escape 
 unpunished, when he stands in the law-place of sin- 
 ners, though guilty only by the slight stain (may I so 
 speak) of imputation. Could the execution of ever- 
 lasting punishment upon the hateful criminals them- 
 selves ever give so bright a display of these attributes? 
 It were impossible. Again, 
 
 Was it a difficulty to save sinners, and yet maintain 
 the rights of the divine government, and the honour 
 of the law? See how this difficulty is removed by the 
 obedience and death of Christ ! Now it appears, that 
 the rights of the divine government are so sacred and 
 inviolable, that they must be maintained, though the 
 darling Son of God should fall a sacrifice to justice; 
 and that not one offence against this government can 
 be pardoned, without his making a full atonement. 
 Now it appears, that the Supreme Ruler is not to be 
 trifled with, but that his injured honour must be re- 
 paired, though at the expence of his Son's blood and 
 life. Now, the precept of the law is perfectly obeyed 
 in every part, and a full equivalent to its penalty 
 endured, by a person of infinite dignity; and it is only 
 upon this footing, that is, of complete satisfaction 
 to all the demands of the law, that any of the rebel- 
 lious sons of men can he restored into favour. This 
 is a satisfaction which Christ alone could give: to sin- 
 ners it is utterly impossible, either by doing or suffer- 
 ing. They cannot do all the things that are written 
 in the law; nor can they endure its penalty, without 
 being for ever miserable : and therefore the law has 
 received a more complete satisfaction in Christ than it 
 
 G4
 
 88 The Method of Salvation Serm. 2. 
 
 would ever receive from the offenders themselves. 
 Further, 
 
 Was it a difficulty how sinners might be saved, and 
 3 T et the evil of sin be displayed in all its horrors? Go 
 to the cross of Christ; there, ye fools that make a 
 mock of sin, there learn its malignity, and its hateful-. 
 ness to the great God. There you may see it is so 
 great an evil, that when it is but imputed to the man 
 that is God's fellow, as the surety of sinners, it can- 
 not escape punishment. No, when that dreadful stain 
 lay upon him, immediately the commission was given 
 to divine justice, Awake O sxcord, against my shep- 
 herd, against the man that is my Jellow, saith the 
 Lord of hosts ; smite the shepherd. Zech. xiii. 7. > 
 When Christ stood in the room of sinners, even the 
 Father spared not his own Son, but gave him up to 
 death. That the criminals themselves, who are an 
 inferior race of creatures, should not escape would not 
 be strange: but what an enormous evil must that be, 
 which cannot be connived at even in the favourite of 
 heaven, the only begotten Son of God ! Surely no- 
 thing besides could give so striking a display of its 
 malignity ! 
 
 Was it a difficulty how to reconcile the salvation of 
 sinners, and the public good ? that is, how to forgive 
 sin, and yet give an effectual warning against it ? How 
 to receive the sinner into favour, and advance him 
 to the highest honour ami happiness, and in the mean 
 time deter all other beings from off ending ? All this 
 is provided for in the sufferings of Christ as a surety. 
 Let all worlds look to his cross, and receive the warn- 
 ing which his wounds, and groans, and blood, and 
 dying agonies proclaim aloud; and sure they can never 
 dare to offend after the example of man. Now they 
 may see that the only instance of pardon to be found 
 in the universe was not brought about but by such 
 means as are not likely to be repeated; by the incarna- 
 tion and death of the Lord of glory. And can they 
 flatter themselves that be will leave his throne, and 
 hang upon a cross, as often as any of his creatures 
 wantonly dare to offend him? No; such a miracle as 
 this, the utmost effort of divine grace, is not often to
 
 Setim. 2. through Jesus Christ. 89 
 
 be renewed ; and therefore, if they dare to sin, it is at 
 their peril. They have no reason to flatter themselves 
 they shall be favoured like fallen man; but rather 
 to expect they shall share in the doom of the fallen 
 angels. 
 
 Or if they should think sin may escape with but a 
 slight punishment, here they may be convinced of the 
 contrary. If the Darling of heaven, the Lord of Glory, 
 though personally innocent, suffers so much when sin 
 is but imputed to him, what shall the sinners them- 
 selves feel, who can claim no favour upon the footing 
 of their own importance, or personal innocence ? " If 
 these things be done in the green tree, what shall be 
 done in the dry." 
 
 Thus, my brethren, you may see how a way is open- 
 ed through Jesus Christ for your salvation. All the 
 ends of government may be answered, and yet you 
 pardoned, and made happy. Those attributes of the 
 divine nature, such as mercy and justice, which 
 seemed to clash, arc now reconciled ; now they min- 
 gle their beams, and both shine with a brighter glory 
 in the salvation of sinners, than either of them could 
 apart. And must you not acknowledge this divine 
 God-iike scheme ? Can you look round you over the 
 works of the creation, and see the divine wisdom in 
 every object, and can you not perceive the divine 
 agency in this still more glorious work of redemption? 
 Redemption, which gives a full view of the Deity, 
 not as the sun in eclipse, half dark, half bright, but 
 as 
 
 " A Cod all o'er, consummate, absolute, 
 
 f ' i'ull orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete." 
 
 Young. 
 
 And shall not men and angels join in wonder and 
 prai.se at the survey of this amazing scheme? Angels 
 are wrapt in wonder and praise, and will be so to all 
 eternity. See! how they pry into this mystery ! hark, 
 how they sing! " Glory to God in the highest:" and 
 celebrate the Lamb that was slain ! And shall not men, 
 who are personally interested in the affair, join wirh
 
 90 The Method of Salvation Serm. 2. 
 
 them? O! are there none to join with them in this 
 assembly ? Surely, none can refuse ! 
 
 Now since all. obstructions are removed on God's 
 part, that lay in the way of our salvation, why should 
 we not all be saved together ? What is there to hinder 
 our crowding into heaven promiscuously? Or what is 
 there requisite on our part, in order to make us par- 
 takers of this salvation ? Here it is proper to pass on to 
 the next truth inferred from the text, namely, 
 
 III. That the grand pre-requisite to your being saved 
 in this way, is faith in Jesus Christ. Though the 
 obstructions on God's part are removed by the death 
 of Christ, yet there is one remaining in the sinner 
 which cannot be removed without his consent ; and 
 which, while it remains, renders his salvation impos- 
 sible in the nature of things ; that is, the depravity and 
 corruption of his nature. Till this is cured, he cannot 
 relish those fruitions and employments in which the 
 happiness of heaven consists, and consequently he 
 cannot be happy there. Therefore there is a necessity, 
 in the very nature of things, that he should be made 
 holy, in order to be saved: nay, his salvation itself 
 consists in holiness. Now faith is the root of all holi- 
 ness in a sinner. Without a firm realizing belief of the 
 great truths of the gospel, it is impossible a sinner 
 fchould be sanctified by their influence: and without a 
 particular faith in Jesus Christ, he cannot derive from 
 him those sanctifying influences by which alone he 
 can be made holy, and which are conveyed thro' Jesus 
 Christ, and thro' him alone. 
 
 Further: It would be highly incongruous, and in- 
 deed impossible, to save a sinner against his will, or in 
 a way he dislikes. Now, faith, as you shall sec pre- 
 sently, principally consists r.\ a hearty consent to and 
 approbataion of the way of salvation thro' Jesus Christ, 
 the only way in which a sinner can be saved consis- 
 tently with the divine honour; so that the constitution 
 of the gospel is not only just, but as merciful as it 
 can be, when it ordains, tiiat only he that belkreth 
 .shall be saved; but that he thai bdleceth not, shall be 
 damned.
 
 Serm. 2. through Jesus Christ. 91 
 
 Again: We cannot be saved through Jesus Christ, 
 till his righteousness be so far 'made ours as that it 
 will answer the demands of the law for us, and procure 
 the favour of God to us; but his righteousness cannot 
 be thus imputed to us, or accounted ours in law, till 
 Ave are so united to him as to be one in law, or one 
 legal person with him. Now faith is the bond of 
 union ; faith is that which interests us in Christ ; and 
 therefore without faith we cannot receive any benefit 
 from his righteousness. 
 
 Here then a most interesting inquiry presents itself; 
 " What is it to believe in Jesus Christ ? or what is that 
 faith which is the grand pre-requisite to salvation?"' 
 If you are capable of attention to the most interesting 
 affair in all the world, attend to this with the utmost 
 seriousness and solemnity. 
 
 Faith in Christ includes something speculative in it; 
 that is, it includes a speculative, rational belief, upon 
 the testimony of God, that Jesus Christ is the only 
 Saviour of men. But yet it is not entirely a specu- 
 lation, like the faith of multitudes among us: it is a 
 more practical experimental thing; and that you may 
 understand its nature, you must take notice of the 
 following particulars: 
 
 (1.) Faith presupposes a deep sense of our undone, 
 helpless condition. I told you before, this is the con- 
 dition of the world without Christ ; and you must be 
 sensible at heart that this is your condition in particu- 
 lar, before you can believe in him as your Saviour, 
 lie came to be a Saviour in a desperate ease, when no 
 relief could possibly be had from any other quarter, 
 and you cannot receive him under that character till 
 you feel yourselves in such a case; therefore, in order 
 to your believing, all your pleas and excuses for your 
 sins must be silenced, all your high conceit of your 
 own goodness must be mortified, all your dependence 
 upon your own righteousness, upon the merit of your 
 prayers, your repentance, and good works, must be 
 cast down, and you must feel that indeed you lie at 
 mercy, that (fod may justly reject you forever, and 
 that all you can do can bring him und^r no obligation 
 to save you. These things you must be deeply sensible
 
 Q<2 The Method of Salvation Serm. 2. 
 
 of, otherwise you can never receive the Lord Jesus in 
 that view in which he is proposed to you, namely, as 
 a Saviour in a desperate case. 
 
 I wish and pray you may this day see yourselves in 
 this true, though mortifying light. It is the want of 
 this sense of things that keeps such crowds of persons 
 unbelievers among us. It is the want of this that 
 causes the Lord Jesus to he so little esteemed, so little 
 sought for, so little desired among us. In short, it is 
 the want of this that is the great occasion of so many 
 perishing from under the gospel, and, as it were, from 
 between the hands of a Saviour, it is this, alas ! that 
 causes them to perish, like the impenitent thief on the 
 cross, with a Saviour by their side. () that you 
 once rightly knew yourselves, you would then soon 
 know Jesus Christ, and receive salvation from his 
 hands ! 
 
 (2.) Faith implies the enlightening of the under- 
 standing to discover the suitableness of Jesus Christ 
 as a Saviour, and the excelleney of the way of sal- 
 vation through him. While the sinner lies undone 
 and helpless in himself, and looking about in vain for 
 some relief, it pleases a gracious God to shine into his 
 heart, and enable him to see his glory in the face of 
 Jesus Christ. Now this once neglected Saviour appears 
 not only absolutely necessary, but also all-glorious and 
 lovely, and the sinner's heart is rapt away, and for 
 ever captivated with his beauty: now the neglected 
 gospel appears in a new light, as different from all his 
 former apprehensions as if it were quite another thing. 
 I have not time at present to enlarge upon this dis- 
 covery of Christ and the gospel which faith includes; 
 and indeed should I dwell upon it ever so long, I 
 could not convey just ideas of it to such of you as 
 have never had the happy experience of it. In short, 
 the Lord Jesus, and the way of salvation thro' him, 
 appear perfectly suitable, all-sufficient, and all-glorious; 
 and in consequence of this, 
 
 (3.) The sinner is enabled to embrace this Saviour 
 witli all his heart, and to give a voluntary cheerful 
 consriii to ;!;';.-, glorious scheme of salvation. Now 
 all his former unwillingness and reluctance are sub*
 
 Serm. 0. through Jesus Christ. <>3 
 
 dued, and his heart no more draws back from the 
 terms of the gospel, but lie complies with them, and 
 that not merely out of constraint and necessity, but 
 out of free choice, and with the greatest pleasure and 
 delight. How docs his heart now cling to the blessed 
 Jesus with the most" affectionate endearment! How is 
 he lost in wonder, joy, and gratitude at the survey of 
 the divine perfections, as displayed in this method of 
 redemption! How does he rejoice in it, as not only 
 bringing happiness to him, but glory to God; as 
 making his salvation not only consistent with, but a 
 bright illustration of the divine perfections, and the 
 dignity of his government ! While he had iio other 
 but the low and selfish principles of corrupt nature he 
 had no concern about the honour of God ; if he 
 might be but saved it was all he was solicitous about : 
 but now he has a noble generous heart ; now he is 
 concerned that God should be honoured in his salva- 
 tion, and this method of salvation is recommended 
 and endeared to him bv the thought that it secures 
 to God the supremacy, and makes his salvation sub- 
 servient to the divine glory. 
 
 (4.) Faith in Jesus Christ implies a humble trust 
 or dependence upon him alone for the pardon of sin, 
 acceptance with God, and every blessing. As I told 
 you before, the sinner's self-confidence is mortified ; 
 he gives up all hopes of acceptance upon the footing 
 of his own righteousness: he is filled with self-despair, 
 and yet he does not despair absolutely ; he does not 
 give up himself as lost, but has cheerful hopes of 
 becoming a child of God, and being for ever happy, 
 guilty and unworthy as he is; and what are these 
 hopes founded upon? Why, upon the mere free grace 
 and mercy of God, through the righteousness of Jesus 
 Christ. On this he ventures a guilty, unworthy, hi ip- 
 less soul, and finds it a firm, immoveable foundation, 
 while every other ground of dependence proves but a 
 quicksand. There are many that flatter themselves 
 they put their trust in God; but their trust v. ants 
 sundry qualifications essential to a true faith. It is 
 not the trust of a humble helpless soul that draws all 
 its encouragement from the mere mercy of God, and
 
 94 The Method of Salvation S e r m. 2. 
 
 the free indefinite offer -of the gospel; but it is the 
 presumptuous trust of a proud self-confident sinner, 
 who draws his encouragement in part at least from his 
 own imaginary goodness and importance. It is not a 
 trust in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, as 
 the only medium through which it can be honourably 
 conveyed; but either in the absolute mercy of God, 
 which without a proper reference to a Mediator, or 
 in his mercy, as in some measure deserved or moved 
 by something in the sinner. Examine whether your 
 trust in God will stand this test. 
 
 I have now given you a brier" answer to that grand 
 question, What is it to believe in Jesus Christ? and I 
 hope you understand it, though I have not enlarged; 
 so much upon it as I willingly would. I shall onty 
 add, that this faith may also be known by its insepa- 
 rable effects; which are such as follow. Faith purifies 
 the heart, and is a lively principle of inward holiness. 
 Faith is always productive of good works, and leads 
 us to universal obedience : faith overcomes the world 
 and all its temptations : faith realizes eternal things, 
 and brings them near; and hence it is defined by the 
 apostle, The substance of things Imped for, and the 
 evidence of things not seen. Heh. xi. 1. Here I have 
 a very important question to propose to you : Who 
 among you can say, " Well, notwithstanding all my 
 imperfections, and all my doubts and fears, I cannot 
 but humbly hope, after the best examination I can 
 make, that such a faith has been produced in this 
 heart of mine?" And can you say so indeed? Then 
 I bring you glad tidings of great joy; you shall be 
 saved: yes, saved you shall be, in spite of earth and 
 hell; saved, however great your past sins have been. 
 Which thought introduces the glorious truth that 
 comes next in order, namely, 
 
 IV. My text implies, that every one, without ex- 
 ception, whatever his former character has been, that 
 is enabled to believe in Jesus Christ, shall certainly be 
 saved. 
 
 The number or aggravations of sin do not alter the 
 case; and the reason is, the sinner is not received into 
 favour, in whole or in part, upon the account of any
 
 Serm. 2. through Jesus Christ. 95 
 
 thing personal, but solely and entirely upon the ac- 
 count of the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Now this 
 righteousness is perfectly equal to all the demands of 
 the law ; and therefore, when this righteousness is 
 made over to the sinner as his by imputation, the law 
 has no more demands upon him for great sins than for 
 small, for many than for few ; because all demands 
 are fully satisfied by the obedience of Jesus Christ to 
 the law. You see that sinners of all characters who 
 believe in him are put upon an equality in this respect: 
 they are all admitted upon one common footing, the 
 righteousness of Christ; and that is as sullicient for 
 one as another. 
 
 This encouraging truth has the most abundant sup- 
 port from the holy scriptures. Observe the agreeable 
 indefinite whosoever so often repeated. " Whosoever 
 believeth in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting 
 life."' Whosoever he be, however vile, however guilty, 
 however unworthy, if he docs but believe, he shall 
 not perish, but have everlasting life. W r hat an agree- 
 able assurance is this from the lips of him who has the 
 final states of men at his disposal ! The same blessed 
 lips have also declared, Him that cometh unto me I 
 will in no wise cast out. John vi. 37. And IVhosoxer 
 wilt, let him take the water of life freely. Rev. xxii. 17. 
 He has given yo.u more than bare words to estab- 
 lish you in the belief of this truth : upon this principle 
 he has acted, choosing some of the most abandoned 
 sinners to make them examples, not of his justice, as 
 we might expect, but of his mercy, for the encourage- 
 ment of others. In the days of his flesh he Aras re- 
 proached by his enemies for his friendship to publicans 
 and sinners; but sure it is, instead of reproaching, wc 
 must love him on this account. When he rose from 
 the dead he did not rise with anjjry resentment airainst 
 his murderers; no, but he singles them out from a 
 world of sinners, to make them the first oilers of 
 pardon through the blood which they had just shed, 
 lie orders that repentance and remission of sins should 
 be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at 
 Jerusalem. Luke xxiv. 47. At Jerusalem, where he 
 bad been ciucitied a few days before, there he orders
 
 QG The Method of Salvation Skrm. 2, 
 
 the first publication of pardon and life to be made. 
 You may see what monsters of sin he chose to make 
 the monuments of his grace in Corinth. Neither for- 
 nicators, nor idolators, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, 
 nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, 
 nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extor- 
 tioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. What a dis- 
 mal catalogue is this ! It is no wonder such a crew should 
 not inherit the kingdom of heaven; they are fit only 
 for the infernal prison; and yet, astonishing! it follows, 
 such zvere some of you ; but ye are washed, but ye are 
 sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord 
 Jesus, and by the spirit of our God. 1 Cor. vi. 9 11. 
 What sinner after this can despair of mercy upon his 
 believing in Jesus! St. Paul was another instance of 
 the same kind: "This," says he, " is a faithful say- 
 ing ;" a saying that may be depended on as true, " and 
 worthy of all acceptation," from a guilty world, that 
 Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of 
 whom I am chief: howbeit, for this cause I obtained 
 mercy, that in me the chief, Jesus Christ might shew 
 forth all long-suffering, for a pattern to them which 
 should hereafter believe in him to life everlasting. 
 1 Tim. i. 15, 16. A sinner of less size would not 
 have answered this end so well ; but if Saul the perse- 
 cutor obtains mercy upon his believing, who can 
 despair ? 
 
 You see upon the whole, my brethren, you are not 
 excluded from Christ and life by the greatness of your 
 sins; but if you perish it must be from another cause; 
 it must be on account of your wilful unbelief in not 
 accepting of Jesus Christ as your Saviour. If yon 
 reject him, then indeed you must perish, however smalt 
 your sins have been ; for it is only his death that can 
 make atonement for the slightest guilt ; and if you 
 have no interest in that, the guilt of the smallest sin 
 will sink you into ruin. 
 
 Here is a door wide enough for you all, if you will 
 but enter in by faith. Come then, enter in, you that 
 have hitherto claimed an horrid precedence in sin, that 
 have been ringleaders in vice, come now take the lead,, 
 and shew others the way to Jesus Christ; harlot*,
 
 St mi. 2; through Jcsils Christ. 07 
 
 publicans, thieves, and murderers, if such be among 
 you, there is salvation even for you, if you will but 
 believe. Oh ! how astonishing is the love of God 
 discovered in tins way : a consideration which intro- 
 duces the last inference from my text, namely, 
 
 V. That the constitution of this method of salvation, 
 or the mission of a Saviour into our world, is a most 
 striking and astonishing display of the love of God: 
 God so loved the xvorld as to give his only begotten 
 Son, &c. 
 
 View the scheme all through, and you will discover 
 love, infinite love, in every part of it. Consider the 
 great God as self-happy and independent Upon all his 
 creatures, and what but love, self-moved love, could 
 excite him to make such provision for an inferior part 
 of them ! Consider the world sunk in sin, not only 
 without merit, but most deserving of everlasting pu- 
 nishment, and what but love could move him to have 
 mercy upon such a world ? Consider the Saviour pro- 
 vided, not an angel, not the highest creature, but his 
 Son, his only begotten Son ; and what but love could 
 move him to appoint such a Saviour ? Consider the 
 manner in which he was sent, as a gift, as a free 
 unmerited gift; " God gave his only begotten Son :*' 
 And what but infinite love could give such an un- 
 speakable gift? Consider the blessings conferred 
 through this Saviour, deliverance from perdition and 
 the enjoyment of everlasting life, and what but the 
 love of a God could confer such blessings ? Consider 
 the condition upon which these blessings are offered, 
 faith, that humble, self-emptied grace, so suitable to 
 the circumstances of a poor sinner, that brings nothing, 
 but receives all, and what but divine love could make 
 &uch a gracious appointment ? It is by faith, that it 
 may be of grace. Rom. iv. 16". Consider the indefinite 
 extent, or the universality of the offer, which takes 
 iu sinners of the vilest character, and excepts against 
 none: Whosoever believeth shall not perish, Sec. O 
 what love is this! Ihit I must leave it as the theme 
 of your meditations, not only in the house of your 
 pilgrimage, but through all eternity: eternity Avill be 
 short enough to prv into this mvsterv, and it will 
 
 Vol. I. ' U
 
 98 The Method of Salvation Serm. 2. 
 
 employ the understandings of men and angels through 
 the revolutions of eternal ages. 
 
 And now, my brethren, to draw towards a conclu- 
 sion, I would hold a treat}* with you this day about 
 the reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ. I 
 have this day set life and death before you : 1 have 
 opened to you the method of salvation through Jesus 
 Christ; the only method in which you can be saved; 
 the only method that could afford a gleam of hope to 
 such a sinner as I in my late approach to the eternal 
 world*. And now I would bring the matter home, 
 and propose it to you all to consent to be saved in 
 this method, or, in other words, to believe in the only 
 begotten Son of God; this proposal I seriously make 
 to you; and let heaven and earth, and your own con- 
 sciences, witness that it is made to you ; I also insist 
 for a determinate answer this day ; the matter will not 
 admit of a delay, and the duty is so. plain, that there 
 is no need of time to deliberate. A Roman ambassador, 
 treating about peace with the ambassador of a neigh- 
 bouring state, if I remember rightly, and finding him 
 desirous to gain time by shuftliuar and tedious nego- 
 ciations, drew a circle about him, and said, " I demand 
 an answer before you go out of this circle.'" Such a 
 circle let the walls of this house, or the extent of my 
 voice, be to you : before you leave this house, or go 
 out of hearing, I insist on a full decisive answer to 
 this proposal, Whether you will believe in Jesus Christ 
 this day, or not? 
 
 But before 1 proceed any farther, I would remove 
 one stumbling block out of your way. You arc apt 
 to object, " You teach us that faith is the gift of God, 
 and that we cannot believe of ourselves; why then do 
 you exhort us to it ? or how can we be concerned to 
 endeavour that which it is impossible for us to do ?" 
 
 In answer to this, I grant the premises are true; and 
 God forbid I should so much as intimate that faith is 
 the spontaneous growth of corrupt nature, or that you 
 can come to Christ without the father's drawing you : 
 
 * This sermon was preacher' a little after recovery from a severe fit oC 
 sickness, and it is dated Hanover, Oct. 2, 1/5/.
 
 SEiur. . . through Jesus Christ. 99 
 
 but the conclusions you draw from these premises are 
 very erroneous. I exhort and persuade you to believe 
 in Jesus Christ, because it is while such means are 
 used with sinners, and by the use of them, that it 
 pleases God to enable them to comply, or to work faith 
 in them. I would therefore use those means which 
 God is pleased to bless for this end. I exhort you to 
 believe, in order to set you upon the trial ; for it is 
 putting it to trial, and that only, which can full)' con- 
 vince you of your own inability to believe ; and till 
 you are convinced of this, you can never expect 
 strength from God. I exhort you to believe, because, 
 sinful and enfeebled as you are, you are capable of 
 using various preparatives to faith. You may attend 
 upon prayer, hearing, and all the outward means of 
 grace with natural seriousness ; you may endeavour to 
 get acquainted with your own helpless condition, and 
 as it were put yourselves in the way of divine mercy; 
 and though all these means cannot of themselves pro- 
 duce faith in you, yet it is only in the use of these 
 means you are to expect divine grace to work it in 
 you : never was it yet produced in one soul, while 
 lying supine, lazy, and inactive. 
 
 T hope you now sec good reasons why I should ex- 
 hort you to believe, and also perceive my design in it; 
 I therefore renew the proposal to you, that you should 
 this day, as guilty, unworthy, self-despairing sinners, 
 accept of the only begotten Son of God as your Saviour, 
 and fall in with the gospel-method of Salvation; and I 
 once more demand your answer. I would by no means, 
 if possible, leave the pulpit this day till I have effec- 
 tually recommended the blessed Jesus, my Lord and 
 Master, to your acceptance. I am strongly bound by 
 the vows and resolutions of a sick-bed to recommend 
 him to you ; and now I would endeavour to perform 
 my vows. I would have us all this day before we part 
 consent to God's covenant, that we may go away jus- 
 tified to our houses. 
 
 To this 1 persuade and exhort you, in the name and 
 by the authority of the great God, by the death of 
 Jesus Christ for sinners, by your own most urgent and 
 absolute necessity, bv the immense blessings proposed 
 
 \\ '2
 
 100 The Method of Salvation Sr.ini. <2. 
 
 in the gospel, and by the heavy curse denounced 
 against unbelievers. 
 
 All the blessings of the gospel, pardon of sin, sanc- 
 tifying grace, eternal life, and whatever you can w&nt, 
 shall become yours this day, if you but believe in the 
 Son of Cod : then let desolation overrun our land, let 
 public and private calamities crowd upon you, and 
 make you so many Jobs for poverty and affliction, still 
 your main interest is secure; the storms and waves of 
 trouble can only bear you to heaven, and hasten your 
 passage to the harbour of eternal rest. Let devils ac- 
 cuse you before God, let conscience indict you and 
 bring you in guilty, let the fiery law make its demands 
 upon you, you have a righteousness in Jesus Christ 
 that is sufficient to answer all demands, and, having 
 received it by faith, you may plead it as your own in 
 law. Happy souls ! rejoice in hope of the glory of 
 God, for your hope will never make you ashamed ! 
 
 But I expect, as usual, some of you Avill refuse to 
 comply with this proposal. This, alas ! has been the 
 usual fate of the blessed gospel in all ages and in all 
 countries; as some have received it, so some have re- 
 jected it. That old complaint of Isaiah has been 
 justly repeated thousands of times; ft' ho hath believed 
 our report? and to xvlwm is the arm of the Lord re- 
 vealed? Isai. liii. 1. And is there no reason to pom- 
 it out from a broken heart over some of you, my dear 
 people! Are you all this day determined to believe? 
 If so, I pronounce you blessed in the name of the 
 Lord ; but if not, I must, denounce your doom. 
 
 lie it known to you then from the living God, that 
 if you thus continue in unbelief, you shut the door of 
 mercy against yourselves, and exclude yourselves from 
 eternal life. Whatever splendid appearances of virtue, 
 whatever amiable qualities, whatever seeming good 
 works you have, the express sentence of the gospel 
 lies in full force against you, lie that be.Ueveth not 
 shall he damned. Mark xvi. lb', lie that believeth not 
 is condemned already, because he hath, not believed on 
 the only it gotten Son of God. John iii. 18. lie that 
 believe tli rot shall not see life; but the aw//// of God 
 abidcth iii on him. John iii. 36*. This is your doom
 
 Serm. 2. through Jesus Christ. 101 
 
 repeatedly pronounced by him whom you must own to 
 he the best friend of human nature ; and if he con- 
 demn, who can justify you? 
 
 Be it also known to you, that you will not only 
 perish, but you will perish with peculiar aggravations ; 
 you will fall with no common ruin; you will envy the 
 lot of Heathens who perished without the law : for O ! 
 you incur the peculiarly enormous guilt of rejecting 
 the gospel, and putting contempt upon the Son of 
 God. This is an horrid exploit of wickedness, and 
 tliis God resents above all the other crimes of which 
 human nature is capable. Hence Christ is come for 
 judgment as well as for mercy into this world, and lie 
 is set for the fall as well as the rising again of many 
 in Israel. You now enjoy the light of the gospel, 
 which has conducted manv through this dark world 
 to eternal day ; but remember also, this is the con- 
 demnation ; that is, it is the occasion of the most 
 aggravated condemnation, that light is come into the 
 world, and men love darkness rather than light. On 
 this principle Jesus pronounced the doom of Chorazin 
 and Bcthsaida more intolerable than that of Sodom 
 and Gomorrah. Matth. xi, 21, 22. And would it not 
 be hard to find a place in Virginia where the doom of 
 unbelievers is likely to be so terrible as among us? 
 
 And now docs not all this move you ? Are you not 
 alarmed at the thought of perishing; of perishing by 
 the hand of a Saviour rejected and despised; perishing 
 under the stain of his profaned blood; perishing 
 not only under the curse of the law, but under that 
 of the gospel, which is vastly heavier? O! are you 
 hardy enough to venture upon such a doom ! This 
 doom is unavoidable if you refuse to comply with the 
 proposal now made to you. 
 
 I must now conclude the treaty; but for my own 
 acquittance, I must take witness that I have endea- 
 voured to discharge my commission, whatever recep- 
 tion you give it. I call heaven and earth, and yoiu 
 own consciences to witness, that life and salvation, 
 through Jesus Christ, have been offered to you on this, 
 day; and if you reject it. remember it; remember it 
 whenever you see this place; remember it whenever
 
 102 The Method of Salvation, Sec. Serm. <2. 
 
 you see my face, or one another; remember it, that 
 you may witness for me at the supreme tribunal that 
 I am clear of your blood. Alas ! you will remem- 
 ber it among a thousand painful reflections millions 
 of ages hence, when the remembrance of it will rend 
 your hearts like a vulture. Many sermons forgotten 
 upon earth are remembered in hell, and haunt the 
 guilty mind for ever. O that you would believe, and 
 so prevent this dreadful effect from the present ser- 
 mon !
 
 SERMON III. 
 Sinners intreated to be reconciled to God, 
 
 2 Cor. v. 20. 
 
 JYc then are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech 
 you by us: ice pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to 
 God. 
 
 TO preside in the solemnities of public worship, to 
 direct your thoughts, and choose for you the sub- 
 jects of your meditation on those sacred hours which 
 you spend in the house of God, and upon the right 
 improvement of which your everlasting happiness so 
 much depends, this is a province of the most tremen- 
 dous importance that can be devolved upon a mortal; 
 and every man of the sacred character, who knows 
 what he is about, must tremble at the thought, and be 
 often anxiously perplexed what subject he shall choose, 
 what he shall say upon it, and in what manner he shall 
 deliver his message. His success in a great measure 
 depends upon his choice ; for, though the blessed Spirit 
 is the proper agent, and though the best means, with- 
 out his efficacious concurrence, are altogether fruitless, 
 yet he is wont to bless those means that are best adapt- 
 ed to do good; and after a long course of languid and 
 fruitless efforts, which seem to have been unusually dis- 
 owned by my divine Master, what text shall I choose 
 out of the inexhaustible treasure of (Jod"s word? In 
 what new method shall 1 speak upon it? What new 
 untried experiments shall I make? Blessed Jesus ! my 
 heavenly Master! direct thy poor perplexed servant 
 who is at a loss, and knows not what to do; direct 
 bun that has tried and tried again all the expedients he 
 could think of, but almost in vain, and now scarcely
 
 104 Sinners intreated to Serm\ 3. 
 
 knows what it is to hope for success ! divine direction, 
 my brethren, has been sought ; and may I hope it is 
 that which lias turned my mind to address you this day 
 on the important subject of your reconciliation to God, 
 and to become an humble imitator of the great St. 
 Paul, whose affecting words I have read to you. JVe 
 then arc ambassadors for Christ, as though God did 
 beseech you by us: we pray you, in Christ's stead, be 
 ye reconciled to God. 
 
 The introduction to this passage you find in the fore- 
 going verses, God hath green to us (the apostles) the 
 ministry of reconciliation ; the sum and substance of 
 which is, namely, " That God was in Christ recon- 
 ciling the world unto himself, not imputing their tres- 
 passes unto them. 1 ' As if he had said, " The great 
 Sovereign of the universe, though highly provoked, 
 and justly displeased with our rebellious world, has 
 been so gracious as to contrive a plan ot reconciliation, 
 whereby they may not only escape the punishment they 
 deserve, but also be restored to the favour of God, and 
 all the privileges of his favourite subjects. This plan 
 was laid in Christ; that is, it was he who was ap- 
 pointed, and undertook to remove all obstacles out of 
 the way of their reconciliation, so that it might be 
 consistent with the honour and dignity of God and his 
 government. This he performed by a life of perfect 
 obedience and an atoning death, instead of rebellious 
 man. Though " he knew no sin" of his own; yet " he 
 was made sin," that is, a sin-offering, or a sinner by 
 imputation " for us," that we might " be made the 
 righteousness of God in him." Thus all hindrances 
 are removed on God's part. Tne plan ot a treaty of 
 reconciliation is formed, approved, and ratified in the 
 court of heaven ; but then it must be published, all 
 thi.- terms made known, and the consent of the rebels 
 solicited and gained. It is not enough that all impe- 
 diments to peace are removed on God's part; they 
 must also be removed on the part of man: the recon- 
 ciliation must be mutual; both the parlies must agree. 
 Hence arises the necessity of the ministry of reconcilia- 
 tion which was committed to the apostles, those prime 
 ministers of the kingdom of Christ, and in a lower
 
 Serm. 3. be reconciled to God, 105 
 
 sphere to the ordiuary ministers of the gospel in every 
 age. The great business of their office is to publish the 
 treaty of peace; that is, the articles of reconciliation, 
 and to use every motive to gain the consent of man- 
 kind to these articles. It is this office St. Paul is dis- 
 charging, when he says, JVe are ambassadors for 
 Christ, as though God did beseech you by us : we pray 
 you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God. 
 
 We are ambassadors for Christ. The proper notion 
 of an ambassador, is that of a person sent by a king 
 to transact affairs in his name, and according to his in- 
 structions, with foreign states, or part of his subjects, 
 to whom he does not think proper to go himself and 
 treat with them in his own person. Thus a peace is 
 generally concluded between contending nations, not 
 by their kings in person, but by their plenipotentiaries 
 acting in their name, and by their authority; and, while 
 they keep to their instructions, their negociations and 
 agreements are as valid and authentic as if they were 
 carried on and concluded by their masters in person. 
 Thus the Lord Jesus Christ is not personally present 
 in our world to manage the treaty of peace himself, 
 but he has appointed first his apostles, and then the 
 ministers of the gospel through every age, to carry it 
 on in* his name. This is their proper character: they 
 are ambassadors for Christ, his plenipotentiaries, fur- 
 nished with a commission and instructions to make 
 overtures of reconciliation to a rebel-world, and treat 
 with them to gain their consent. 
 
 Indeed, aspiring ecclesiastics have assumed high- 
 sounding titles merely to procure extravagant honours 
 to themselves. They have called themselves ambassa- 
 dors of Christ, messengers from God, the plenipoten- 
 tiaries and viceroys of heaven, and I know not what, 
 not with a design to do honour to their Master, but to 
 keep the world in a superstitious awe of themselves. 
 This priestly pride and insolence I utterly abhor; and 
 yet I humbly adventure to assume the title of an am- 
 bassador of the great King of heaven, and require von 
 to regard me in this high character: but then you must 
 know, that while I am making this claim. I own my. 
 Self obliged inviolably to adhere to the instructions of
 
 106 Sinners intreated to Serm. 3. 
 
 my divine Master contained in the Bible. I have no 
 power over your faith; no power to dictate or pre- 
 scribe; but my work is only just to publish the articles 
 of peace as my Master has established and revealed 
 them in his word, without the least addition, dimi- 
 nution, or alteration. I pretend to no higher power 
 than this, and this power I must claim, unless I would 
 renounce my office; for who can consistently profess 
 himself a minister of Christ without asserting his right 
 and power to publish what his Lord has taught, and 
 communicate his royal instructions ? 
 
 Therefore, without usurping an equality with St. 
 Paul, or his fellow-apostles, I must tell you in his lan- 
 guage, I appear among you this day as the ambassa- 
 dor of the most high God; I am discharging an em- 
 bassy for Christ *; and I tell you this with no other 
 design than to procure your most serious regard to 
 what I say. If you consider it only as my declaration, 
 whatever regard you pay to it, the end of my ministry 
 will not be answered upon you. The end of my office 
 is not to make myself the object of your love and vene- 
 ration, but to reconcile you to God; but you cannot 
 be reconciled to God while you consider the proposal 
 as made to you only by your fellow-mortal. \ on must 
 regard it as made to you by the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 the great Mediator between God and man. I not only 
 allow, but even invite and charge you to enquire and 
 judge whether what I say be agreeable to my divine 
 instructions, which are as open to your inspection as 
 mine, and to regard it no farther than it is so: but if 
 I follow these instructions and propose the treaty of 
 peace to you just as it is concluded in heaven, then I 
 charge you to regard it as proposed by the Lord of 
 heaven and earth, the King of kings, and Lord of 
 lords, though through my unworthy lips. Consider 
 yourselves this day as the hearers not of a preacher 
 formed out of the clay like yourselves, but of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. Suppose him here in person treating 
 with you about your reconciliation to God, and what 
 regard you Mould pay to a proposal made by him in 
 
 * This is the most literal translation of ai<?vov.'.v 1-& 
 
 rXf ! ~
 
 Serm. 3. be reconciled to God, 107 
 
 person, with all his divine royalties about him, that 
 you should now shew to the treaty I am to negociatc 
 with you in his name and stead. 
 
 The next sentence in my text binds you still more 
 srongly to this ; as though God did beesech you by ns. 
 As if lie had said, " God the Father also concurs in 
 this treaty of peace, as well as Christ the great peace- 
 maker ; and as we discharge an embassy for Christ, so 
 we do also for God ; and you are to regard our be- 
 seeching and exhorting*, as though the great God did 
 in person beseech and exhort you by us." What 
 astonishing condescension is here intimated ! not that 
 the ministers of Christ should beseech you; this would 
 be no mighty condescension : but that the supreme 
 Jehovah should bessech you ; that he should not only 
 command you with a stern air of authority as your 
 Sovereign, but as a friend, nay as a petitioner should 
 affectionately beseech you, you despicable, guilty 
 worms, obnoxious rebels ! How astonishing, how 
 God-like, how unprecedented and inimitable is this 
 condescension ! Let heaven and earth admire and 
 adore ! It is by us, indeed, by us your poor fellow- 
 mortals, that lie beseeches; but O ! let not this tempt 
 you to disregard him or his entreaty: though he 
 employs such mean ambassadors, yet consider his dig- 
 nity who scuds us, anil then you cannot disregard his 
 message even from our mouth. 
 
 The apostle, having thus prepared the way, proceeds 
 to the actual exercise of his office as an ambassador 
 for Christ : IVe pray you, says he, in Christ's stead, 
 he reconciled to God. As it' he had said, " If Christ 
 were now present in person among you, this is what 
 he would propose to you, and uvu;v upon you, that you 
 would be reconciled to God; but him the heavens 
 must receive till the time of the restitution of all 
 things; but he has left us his poor servants to officiate 
 in his place as well as we can, and we would prosecute 
 the same design, we would urge upon you what he 
 would urge, were he to speak ; therefore wc pray you, 
 jn his stead, be ye reconciled to God: we earnestly 
 
 ' Tzxty.v.x/'-iC, signifies cxkortbi" as well as Icsccchi";:,
 
 10S Sinners intreated to Serm 
 
 j. 
 
 pray you to be reconciled; that is the utmost which 
 such feeble worms as we can do : we Gan only pray and 
 beg, but your compliance is not within the command 
 of our power; the compliance belongs to you; and 
 remember, if you refuse, you must take it upon your- 
 selves, and answer the consequence." 
 
 Having thus explained the text, I proceed in my 
 poor manner to exemplify it by negotiating the treaty 
 with you for your reconciliation to God ; aud'you see 
 my business lies directly with such of you as arc yet 
 enemies to God: you are the only persons that stand 
 in need of reconciliation. As for such of you (and I 
 doubt not but there arc such among you) whose innate 
 enmity has been subdued, and you are become the 
 friends and subjects q^ the King of heaven after your 
 guilty revolt, I must desire you as it were to stand by 
 yourselves for the present hour, and help me by your 
 prayers, while I am speaking to your poor brethren, 
 who still continue in that state of hostility and rebel- 
 lion against God, in which you once were, and the 
 miseries of which you well know, and still lament and 
 deplore. 
 
 Hut by this proposal I am afraid I have deprived 
 myself of hearers on this subject; for have you not 
 all already placed yourselves among the lovers of God, 
 who consequently do not need to be reconciled to 
 him? Is not every one of you ready to say to me, 
 c ' If your business only lies with the enemies of God, 
 you have no concern with me in this discourse: for, 
 God forbid that I should be an enemy to him. I have 
 indeed been guilty of a great many sins, but I had no 
 bad design in them, and never had the least enmity 
 against my Maker; so far from it, that I shudder at 
 the very thought ! : ' This is the first obstacle that I 
 meet with in discharging my embassy : the embassy 
 itself is looked upon as needless by the persons con- 
 cerned, like an attempt to reconcile those that are 
 good friends already. This obstacle must be removed 
 before we can proceed any farther. 
 
 I am far from charging any of you with so horrid a 
 crime as enmity and rebellion against God, who can 
 produce satisfactory evidences to your own conscience
 
 Serm. 3- be reconciled to God. 10.9 
 
 that you are his friends. I only desire that }'0u would 
 not .Hatter yourselves, nor draw a rash and groundless 
 conclusion in an auair of such infinite moment, but 
 that you would put the matter to a fair trial, according 
 to evidence, and then let your conscience pass an im- 
 partial sentence as your judge, under the supreme 
 Judge of the world. 
 
 You plead " Not guilty" to the charge, and alledge 
 that you have always loved God; hut if this be the 
 case, whence is it that you have afforded him so few 
 of vour affectionate and warm thoughts ? Do not 
 your tenderest thoughts dwell upon the objects of 
 your love? But has not your mind been shy of him 
 who gave you your power of thinking ? Have not 
 you lived stupidly thoughtless of him for days and 
 weeks together ? Nay, have not serious thoughts of 
 him been unwelcome, and made you uneasy, and have 
 you not turned every way to avoid them? Have you 
 not often prayed to him, and concurred in other acts 
 of religious worship, and yet had but very few or no 
 devout thoughts of him, even at the very time? And 
 is that mind well affected towards him that is so averse 
 to him, and turns every way to shun a glance of him ? 
 Alas ! is this your friendship for the God that made 
 you, whose you are, and whom you ought to serve ! 
 
 Would you not have indulged the fool's wish, that 
 there were no God, had not the horror or impossibility 
 of the thing restrained you ? 13 ut, notwithstanding 
 this restraint, has not this blasphemy shed its malig- 
 nant poison at times in your hearts ? If there was no 
 (iod, then you would sin without controul, and with- 
 out dread of punishment ; and how sweet was this! 
 Then you would have nothing to do with that melan- 
 choly thing, religion; and what an agreeable exemp- 
 tion would this be ! Hut is this your love for him, to 
 wish the Parent of all being out of being ! Alas! can 
 the rankest enmity rise higher ! 
 
 Again, if you are reconciled to God, whence is it 
 that you are secretly, or perhaps openly disaffected to 
 his image, I mean the purity and strictness of his law, 
 and the lineaments of holiness that appear upon the 
 unfashionable religious few! If you loved God, you
 
 1 10 Sinners in treated to Serm 3. 
 
 would of course love every thing that bears any resem- 
 blance to him. But are you not conscious that it is 
 otherwise with you ; that you murmur and cavil at the 
 restraints of God's law, and would much rather abjure 
 it, be free from it, and live as you list? Are you not 
 conscious that nothing exposes a man more to your 
 secret disgust and contempt, and perhaps to your pub- 
 lic mockery and ridicule, than a strict and holy walk, 
 and a conscientious observance of the duties of devo- 
 tion? And if you catch your neighbour in any of 
 these offences, do not your hearts rise against him? 
 and what is this but the effect of your enmity against 
 God? Do you thus disgust a man for wearing the 
 genuine image and resemblance of your friend? No; 
 the effect of love is quite the reverse. 
 
 Again, if you do but reflect upon the daily sensa- 
 tions of your own minds, must you not be conscious 
 that you love other persons and things more than God? 
 that you love pleasure, honour, riches, your relations 
 and friends, more than the glorious and ever-blessed 
 God? Look into your own hearts, and you will find 
 it so: you will find that this, and that, and a thousand 
 things in this world, engross more of your thoughts, 
 your cares, desires, joys, sorrows, hopes, and fears, than 
 God, or any of his concerns. Now it is essential to 
 the love of God that it be supreme. You do not love 
 him truly at all, in the least degree, if you do not 
 love him above all; above all persons and things in 
 the whole universe, lie is a jealous God, and will not 
 suffer a rival. A lower degree of love for supreme 
 excellence is an affront and indignity. Is it not there- 
 fore evident, even to your own conviction, that you 
 do not love God at all ; and what is this but to be his 
 enemy: To be indifferent towards him, as though he 
 were an insignificant being, neither good nor evil, a 
 mere cypher; to feel neither love nor hatred towards 
 him, but to neglect him, as if you had no concern 
 with him one way or other; what an horrible disposi- 
 tion is this towards him, who is supremely and infi- 
 nitely glorious and amiable, your Creator, your Sove- 
 reign, and Benefactor; who therefore deserves and 
 demands your highest love; or, in tide words of his
 
 Serm. 3. he reconciled to God. Ill 
 
 own law, that you should love him with all your heart, 
 with all your soul, zvitk all your mind, and with all 
 your strength. Mark xii. ?>0. From what can such 
 indifferency towards him proceed but from disaffection 
 and enmity ? It is in this way that the enmity of men 
 towards God most generally discovers itself They 
 feel, perhaps, no positive workings of hatred towards 
 him, unless when their innate corruption, like an ex- 
 asperated serpent, is irritated by conviction from his 
 law ; but they feel an apathy, a listlessness, an indif- 
 ferency towards him ; and because they feel no more, 
 they flatter themselves they are far from hating him ; 
 especially as they may have very honourable speculative 
 thoughts of him floating on the surface of their minds. 
 But alas ! this very thing, this indifferency, or listless 
 neutrality, is the very core of their enmity ; and if 
 they are thus indifferent to him now, while enjoying 
 so many blessings from his hand, and while he delays 
 their punishment, how will their enmity swell and rise 
 to all the rage of a devil against him, when lie puts 
 forth his vindictive hand and touches them, and so 
 gives occasion to it to discover its venom ! My soul 
 shudders to think what horrid insurrections and direct 
 rebellion this temper will produce when once irritated, 
 and all restraints are taken off; which will be the doom 
 of sinners in the eternal world ; and then they will 
 have no more of the love of God in them than the 
 most malignant devil in hell ! If, therefore, you ge- 
 nerally feel such an indifferency towards God, be 
 assured you are not reconciled to him, but are his 
 enemies in your hearts. 
 
 Again, All moral evil, or sin, is contrary to God ; 
 it is the only thing upon earth, or in hell, that is most 
 opposite to his holy nature; and the object of his 
 implacable and eternal indignation, lie is of purer 
 eyes than to behold it or endure it. It. is his hatred 
 to sin that has turned his heart against any of his 
 creatures; and is the cause of all the vengeance that he 
 has indicted upon the guilty inhabitants of our world, 
 or the spirits of hell. There is no object in the whole 
 compass of the universe so odious to you as every sin 
 is to a pure and all-holy God: now it is impossible
 
 j]* Sin fieri in treated to Serm. 5. 
 
 you should at once love two things so opposite, so 
 eternally irreconcileable. As much love as you have 
 for any unlawful pleasure, just so much enmity there 
 is in your hearts towards God. Hence, says St. Paul, 
 you zcere enemies in your minds by wicked works. Col. i. 
 21. Intimating, that the love and practice of our 
 wicked works is a plain evidence of inward enmity of 
 mind towards God. The works of the flesh are sinful : 
 hence, says the same apostle, the carnal mind, or the 
 minding of the flesh, tpfovv^a. a-xpy.ls, Rom. viii. 7. is enmity 
 against God , it is not subject to the laxo of God, 
 neither indeed can it be : so then they that are in the 
 flesh, or under the power of a carnal mind, cannot 
 please God. Rom. viii. 8. because, whatever seeming 
 acts of obedience they perform, and whatever appear- 
 ances of friendship they put on, they are at heart 
 enemies to God, and therefore cannot please him, who 
 searches their heart, and sees the secret principle of 
 their actions. Hence also St. James tells us, that if any 
 man would be a friend to the world, he is the enemy of 
 God, because the friendship of the world is enmity 
 against God. Jam. iv. 4. For the world enflamcs the 
 lusts of men, and occasions much sin; and if we love 
 the tempter, we love the sin to which it would allure 
 us; and if we love the sin, we are the enemies of God ; 
 and therefore the friendship of the world is enmity 
 against God. This then is an established maxim, 
 without straining the matter too far, that as far as you 
 love any sin, so far are you enemies to God. The love, 
 as well as the service of such opposite masters, is 
 utterly inconsistent. Now, do not your own consci- 
 ences witness against you, that you have indulged, 
 and still do habitually indulge the love of some sin 
 or other ? whether it be covetousness or sensual plea- 
 sure, or ambition, or some angry passion, or whatever 
 sin it be, as far as you love it, so tar you arc enemies 
 to God; and if you take a view of your temper and 
 practice, must you not unavoidably be convicted of 
 this dreadful guilt? Horrible as the. crime is, is it not 
 an undeniable matter of fact, that you do really love 
 some sin, and consequently hate the infinitely amiable 
 L\\\d ever blessed God ? and therefore you arc the per-
 
 Serm. 3. be reconciled to God. 1 13 
 
 sons I have to deal with, as needing reconciliation with 
 God. 
 
 Farther, Take a view of your general manner of 
 serving God in the duties of religion; your manner of 
 praying, meditation, hearing the word of God, and 
 other acts of devotion, and then inquire, Do you per- 
 form this service as the willing servants of a master you 
 love? Do you not enter upon such service with reluc- 
 tance or listlessness, and perform it with languor and 
 indifierency, as a business to which you have no heart? 
 But is this your manner of performing a labour of love 
 to a friend ? Will your own reason surfer you to think 
 you would be so lukewarm and heartless in the worship 
 of God if you sincerely loved him? No; love is an ac- 
 tive principle, a vigorous spring of action ; and if this 
 were the principle of your religious services, you would 
 infuse more spirit and life into them, you would exert 
 all your powers, and be fervent in spirit, serving the 
 Lord. Rom. xii. 11. 
 
 But when you have performed offices of devotion with 
 some degree of earnestness, which no doubt you have 
 sometimes done, what was the principle or spring of your 
 exertion? Was it the love of God? or was it purely 
 the low principle of self-love ? Why did you pray with 
 such eager importunity, and attend upon the othermeans 
 of grace with so much seriousness, but because you 
 apprehended your dear selves were in danger, and you 
 were not willing to be miserable for ever? This servile, 
 mercenary kind of religious earnestness will not prove 
 that you love God, but only that you love yourselves; 
 and this you may do, and yet have no more true good- 
 ness, or genuine love to God, than an infernal spirit; 
 for there is not a spirit in hell but what loves himself. 
 Indeed self-love is so far from being an evidence of the 
 love of God, that the extravagant excess of it is the 
 source of that wickedness that abounds among men 
 and devils. I do not mean by this utterly to exclude 
 self-love out of genuine religion ; it must have its place 
 in the most excellent and best beings, but then it must 
 be kept in a proper subordination, and not advance the 
 creature above the Creator, and dethrone the supreme 
 King of the universe. His love must be uppermost in 
 
 Vol. I. I
 
 114 Sinners intreated to Serm. 3. 
 
 the heart, and when that has the highest place, the in- 
 dulgence of self-love in pursuing our own happiness is 
 lawful, and an important duty. Now, do you not find 
 from this view of the case, that you are not recon- 
 ciled to God, even in your most devout and zealous 
 hours, much less in the languid inactive tenour of 
 your lives ? If so, place yourselves among those that 
 I have to do with to-day ; that is, the enemies of 
 God. 
 
 So also, when you perforin good offices to mankind; 
 when you are harmless, obliging neighbours; when 
 you are charitable to the poor, or strictly just in trade; 
 is the love of God, and a regard to his authority, the 
 reason and principle of your actions ? That is, do you 
 do these things because God commands them, and be- 
 cause you delight to do what he commands? or rather, 
 do you not do them merely because it is your nature 
 to perform humane and honourable actions in such in- 
 stances ; or because you may acquire honour, or some 
 selfish advantage by them? Alas! that God should be 
 neglected, forgotten, and left out of the question, as 
 of no importance, even in those actions that are mate- 
 rially good ! that even what he commands should be 
 done, not because he commands it, but for some other 
 sordid selfish reason ! O! if you did really love God, 
 would you thus disregard him, and do nothing for 
 his sake; not only when you are doing what he forbids, 
 but even when you are performing what he has made 
 your duty ! Would he be such a cypher, a mere no- 
 thing in your practical esteem, if your hearts were 
 reconciled to him as your God? No; such of you 
 must look upon yourselves as the very persons whom 
 I am to pray, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to, 
 God. 
 
 I might thus, from obvious facts, lay before you 
 many more evidences of your disaffection to the great 
 God; but I must leave some room for the other part of 
 my address to you, in which 1 am to persuade you to 
 accept of the proposal of reconciliation; and therefore 
 I shall add only one more test of your pretended friend- 
 ship, a test which is established by the great Founder 
 of our religion, as infallibly decisive in tins case; and
 
 Serm. S. be reconciled to God. 115" 
 
 that is, obedience, or the keeping of the command- 
 ments of God. This, I say, is established in the 
 strongest terms by Jesus Christ himself, as a decisive 
 test of love, If ye love me, keep my commandments, 
 John xiv. \5. Then are ye my friends if ye do zvhatso- 
 ever I command you. John xv. 14. If any man love 
 me, he will keep my words. He that loveth me ?wt, 
 keepeth not my sayings. John xiv. 23, 24. This is the 
 love of God, says St. John, that xve keep his command- 
 ments ; and his commandments are not grievous. 
 1 John v. 3. that is, they are not grievous when love 
 is the principle of obedience. The service of love is 
 always willing and pleasing. Now my brethren, bring 
 your hearts and lives to this standard, and let consci- 
 ence declare, Are there not some demands and restraints 
 of the divine law so disagreeable to you that you la- 
 bour to keep yourselves ignorant of them, and turn 
 every way to avoid the painful light of conviction? 
 Are there not several duties which you know in your 
 consciences to be such, which you do not so much as 
 honestly endeavour to perform, but knowingly and 
 wilfully neglect? And are there not some favourite sins 
 which your consciences tell you God has forbidden, 
 which yet are so pleasing to you, that you knowingly 
 and allowedly indulge and practise them? If this be 
 your case, you need not pretend to plead any thing in 
 your own defence, or hesitate any longer ; the case is 
 plain, you are, beyond all doubt, enemies to God ; 
 you are undeniably convicted of it this day by irresisti- 
 ble evidence. You perhaps glory in the profession of 
 Christians, but you are, notwithstanding", enemies of 
 God. You attend on public worship, you pray, you 
 read, you communicate, you are perhaps a zealous 
 churchman or dissenter, but you are enemies of God. 
 You have perhaps had many tits of religious affection, 
 and serious concern about your everlasting happiness, 
 but notwithstanding you are enemies of God. You 
 may have reformed in many things, but you are still ene- 
 mies of God. Men may esteem you Christians, but the 
 God of heaven accounts you his enemies. In vain do 
 you insist upon it, that you have never hated your Ma- 
 ker, all your life, but even tremble at the thought, ibrun- 
 
 I
 
 ] J 6 Sinners in treated to Sj.ru S. 
 
 deniable facts are against you; and the reason why you 
 
 have not seen your enmity was, because you were 
 
 blind, and judged upon wrong principles: but if you 
 
 this day feel the force of conviction from the law, and 
 
 have your eyes opened, you will see and be shocked at 
 
 your horrid enmity against God, before yonder sun 
 
 sets. 
 
 And now, when I have singled out from the rest 
 
 those I am now to beseech to reconciliation with God, 
 
 1 
 
 have I not got the majority ot you to treat with? 
 
 Where are the sincere lovers of God? Alas ! how few 
 
 are they S and how imperfect even is their love, so that 
 
 they hardly dare call themselves lovers of God, but 
 
 tremble lest they should still belong to the MTetched 
 
 crowd that are still unreconciled to him! 
 
 Ye rebels against the King of Heaven! ve enemies 
 against my Lord and Master Jesus Christ! (I cannot 
 flatter you with a softer name) hear me; attend to the 
 proposal I make to you, not in my own name, but in 
 the name and stead of your rightful Sovereign; and 
 that is, that you will this day be reconciled to God. 
 V 1 pray you in his stead (that is all I can do) be 
 ye reconciled to God." That you may know what 
 I mean, I will more particularly explain this overture 
 to you. 
 
 If you would be reconciled to God you must be 
 deeply sensible of the guilt, the wickedness, the base- 
 ness, the inexpressible malignity of your enmity and 
 rebellion against him. You must return to vour right- 
 ful Sovereign as convicted, self-condemned, peniteut, 
 broken-hearted rebels, confounded and ashamed of 
 your conduct, loathing yourselves because you have 
 loathed the Supreme Excellence, mourning over your 
 unnatural disaffection, your base ingratitude, your 
 horrid rebellion against so good a King. And what do 
 you say to this article of the treaty of peace? Is it an 
 hard thing for such causeless enemies to fall upon the 
 knee, and to mourn and weep as prostrate penitents 
 at the feet of their injured Maker? Is it an bard thing 
 for one that has all his life been guilty of the blackest 
 crime upon earth, or even in hell, I mean enmity 
 against (iotl, to confess " I have sinned," and to feet
 
 Sjerm. 5. be reconciled to God. 117 
 
 his own confession? to feel it, I say; for if he does 
 not feel it, his confession is but an empty compliment, 
 that increases his guilt. 
 
 Again, If you would be reconciled to God, you 
 must heartily consent to be reconciled to him in Christ; 
 that is, you must come in upon the footing of that act 
 of grace which is published in the gospel through 
 Christ, and expecting no favour at all upon the footing* 
 of your own goodness. The merit of what you call 
 your good actions, of your repentance, your prayers, 
 your acts of charity and justice, must all pass for no- 
 thing in this respect : you must depend only and en- 
 tirely upon the merit of Christ's obedience and suffer- 
 ings as the ground of your acceptance with God ; and 
 hope for forgiveness and favour from his mere mercy 
 bestowed upon you, only for the sake of Christ, or on 
 account of what he has suffered in the stead of sinners. 
 The context informs you, that it is only in Christ that 
 God is reconciling the world to himself; and conse* 
 quently it is only in Christ that the world must accept 
 of reconciliation and pardon. It does not consist with 
 the dignity and perfections of the King of heaven to 
 receive rebels into favour upon any other footing. I 
 would have you consent to every article of the overture 
 as I go along ; and therefore here again I make a pause 
 to ask you, what do you think of this article? Are 
 you willing to comply with it, willing to come into 
 favour with God, as convicted, self-condemned re* 
 bels, upon an act of grace procured by the righteousr 
 ness of Christ alone? Is it a mortification to creatures 
 that never have done one action truly good in all their 
 Jives, because they have never loved God in one mo- 
 ment of their lives; creatures that have always, even 
 in what they counted their best dispositions and best 
 actions, been hateful to God, because even in their 
 best dispositions and best actions they were utterly 
 destitute of his love? Is it a mortification to such 
 creatures to renounce all their own merit, and consent 
 to be saved only through grace, on account of the 
 righteousness of another, even of Jesus Christ the 
 great peace-maker? Can it be a mortification to you 
 to renounce what vou have not, and to own yourselves
 
 118 Sinners intreated to Serm. 5. 
 
 guilty, and utterly unworthy, when you are really 
 such? O! may I not expect your compliance with this 
 term of reconciliation. 
 
 Again, If you would be reconciled to God, you 
 must engage yourselves in his service for the future, 
 and devote yourselves to do his will. His law must be 
 the rule of your temper and practice: whatever he 
 commands, you must honestly endeavour to perform, 
 without exception of any one duty as disagreeable and 
 laborious ; and whatever he forbids, you must for that 
 reason, abstain from, however pleasing, advantageous, 
 or fashionable. You must no longer look upon your- 
 selves as your own, but as bought with a price, and 
 therefore bound to glorify God with your souls and 
 your bodies, which are his. And can you make any 
 difficulty of complying with this term; of obeying 
 him, whom the happy angels in heaven obey ; of ob- 
 serving that law which always unites your duty and 
 your happiness, and forbids nothing but what is itself 
 injurious to you in the nature of things; of doing the 
 will of the wisest and best of beings rather than your 
 own, who are ignorant and depraved creatures ? O ! 
 can you make any difficulty of this ? If not, you 
 will return home this day reconciled to God ; an hap- 
 piness you have never yet enjoyed for one moment. 
 
 Finally, If you would be reconciled to God, you 
 must break off all friendship with his enemies: your 
 friendship with the world ; I mean your attachment 
 to its wicked fashions and customs, and your fondness 
 for its rebellious inhabitants, who continue enemies 
 to God: your love of guilty pleasures, and every form 
 of sin, however pleasing or gainful you may imagine 
 it to be ; your old habits and practices, while enemies 
 to God; all these you must break off for ever; for 
 your friendship with these is utterly inconsistent with 
 the love of God. As long as you are resolved to love 
 the world, to keep up your society with your old com- 
 panions in sin, to retain your old pleasures and evil 
 practices; as long, I say, as you are resolved upon this 
 course, farewell all hope of your reconciliation to God : 
 it is absolutely impossible. And do any of you faesi-r 
 tate at this article? Is sin so noble a thing in itself,
 
 Serm. 3. be reconciled to God. 119 
 
 and so happy in its consequences, as that you should 
 be so loth to part with it ? Is it so sweet a thing to 
 you to sin against God, that you know not how to 
 forbear? Alas! will you rather be an implacable enemy 
 to the God that made you, than break your league with 
 his enemies and your own? Do you love your sins so 
 well, and are you so obliged to them, that you will 
 lay down your life, your eternal life, for their sake? 
 I might multiply particulars, but these are the prin- 
 cipal articles of that treaty of peace I am negociating 
 with you; and a consent to these includes a com- 
 pliance with all the rest. And are you determined to 
 comply? Does the heaven-born purpose now rise in 
 your minds, " I am determined I will be an enemy 
 of God no longer; but this very day I will be recon- 
 ciled to God upon his own terms!" Is this your 
 fixed purpose ? or is there any occasion to pray and 
 persuade you ? 
 
 I well know, and it is fit you should know, that 
 you are not able of yourselves to consent to these 
 terms, but that it is the work of the power of God 
 alone to reconcile you to himself; and that all my 
 persuasions and intreaties will never make you either 
 able or willing. You will then ask me, perhaps, " Why 
 do I propose the terms to you, or use any persuasive 
 or intreaties with you ?" I answer, Because you never 
 will be sensible of your inability till you make an 
 honest trial, and because you never will look and pray 
 for the aid of the blessed spirit till you are deeply sen- 
 sible of your own insufficiency: and further, because, 
 if the blessed spirit should ever effectually work upon 
 vou, it will be bv enlm'hteninor vour understandings 
 to see the reasonableness of the terms, and the force of 
 the persuasives ; and in this way, agreeably to your 
 reasonable natures, sweetly constraining your obstinate 
 wills to yield yourselves to God : therefore the terms 
 must he proposed to you, and persuasives used, if I 
 would be subservient to this divine agent, and furnish 
 him with materials with which to work; and I have 
 .some little hope that he will, as it were, catch my 
 feeble words from my lips before they vanish into air, 
 and bear them home to your hearts with a power which 
 
 14
 
 120 Sinners intr eat ed to Serm. 
 
 a. 
 
 you will not be able to resist. Finally, a conviction of 
 the true state or* your case may constrain you from 
 self-love and the low principles of nature to use the 
 means of reconciliation with zeal and earnestness: this 
 you are capable of, even with the mere strength of 
 degenerate nature; and it is only in this way of earnest 
 endeavours that you have any encouragement to hope 
 for divine aid; therefore, notwithstanding your utter 
 impotence, I must pray, in treat, and persuade you to 
 be reconciled to God. 
 
 I pray you, in the name of the great God your 
 heavenly Father, and of Jesus Christ your Redeemer. 
 If God should once more renew the thunder and light- 
 ning, and darkness and tempest of Sinai, and speak 
 to you as he once did to the trembling. Israelites; or 
 if he should appear to you in all the amiable and allur- 
 ing glories of a sin-pardoning reconcilcable God, and 
 pray you to be reconciled to him, would you not then 
 regard the proposal? or if Jesus, who once prayed for 
 you from the cross, should now pray to you from his 
 throne in heaven, and beg you with his own gracious 
 voice to be reconciled, O ! could you disregard the 
 intreaty? Surely, no, Now the overture of peace is 
 as really made to you by the blessed God and his Son 
 Jesus Christ, as if it were expressly proposed to you 
 by an immediate voice from heaven. For I beseech 
 you, as though God did beseech you by me, and it is in 
 Christ's stead, that I pray you be reconciled to God. 
 Therefore, however lightly you may make of a mere 
 proposal of mine, can you disregard an overture from 
 the God that made you, and the Saviour that bought 
 you with his blood; in which I am but the faint echo 
 of their voice from heaven. 
 
 In the name of God I pray you; the name of the 
 greatest and best of beings; that name which angels 
 love and adore, and which strikes terror through the 
 hardiest devil in the infernal regions; the name of your 
 Father, the immediate Father of your spirits, and the 
 Author of your mortal frames ; the name of your Pre- 
 server and JJenefactor, in whom you live, and move, 
 and have your being; and who gives you life, and 
 breath, and all things ; the name of your rightful
 
 Stum. 3. be reconciled to God, 121 
 
 Sovereign and Lawgiver, who has a right to demand 
 your love and obedience ; the name of your ^supreme 
 Judge, who will ascend the tribunal, and acquit or 
 condemn you, as he finds you friends or foes ; the 
 name of that God, rich in goodness, who has reple- 
 nished heaven with an infinite plenitude of happiness, 
 in which he will allow you to share, after all your hos- 
 tility and rebellion, if you consent to the overture of 
 reconciliation ; in the name of that God of terrible 
 majesty and justice, who has prepared the dungeon of 
 hell as a prison for his enemies, where he holds in 
 chains the mighty powers of darkness, and thousands 
 of your own race, who persisted in that enmity to him 
 of which you are now guilty, and with whom you 
 must have your everlasting portion, if, like them, you 
 continue hardened and incorrigible in your rebellion ; 
 in the name of that compassionate God, avIio sent his 
 dear Son (O the transporting thought!) to satisfy 
 divine justice for you by his death, and the precepts 
 of the law by his life, and thus to remove all obstruc- 
 tions out of the way of your reconciliation on the part 
 of God ; in this great, this endearing and tremendous 
 name, I pray you be reconciled to God. I pray you 
 for his sake; and has this name no weight with you? 
 Will you do nothing for his sake ? what, not so reason- 
 able and advantageous a thing as dropping your un- 
 natural rebellion, and being reconciled to him ? Is 
 your contempt of God risen to that pitch that you will 
 not do the most reasonable and profitable thing in the 
 M'orld, if he intreat you to do it ? Be astonished, O 
 ye heavens ! at this. 
 
 I pray you both in the name and for the sake of 
 Jesus Christ, the true friend of publicans and sinners, 
 in his name, and for his sake, who assumed your de- 
 graded nature, that he might dignify and save it; who 
 lived a life of labour, poverty, and persecution upon 
 earth, that you might enjoy a life of everlasting hap- 
 piness and glory in heaven; who died upon a torturing 
 cross, that you might sit upon heavenly thrones; who 
 was imprisoned in the gloomy grave, that you might 
 enjoy a glorious resurrection ; who fell a victim to 
 divine justice, that you might be set free from its
 
 122 Shiners intreated to Serm 3. 
 
 dreadful arrest; who felt trouble and agony of soul, 
 that you might enjoy the smiles, the pleasures of divine 
 Jove; who, in short, has discovered more ardent and 
 extensive love for you than all the friends in the world 
 can do ; in his name, and for his sake, I pray you to 
 be reconciled to God. And is his dear name a trifle 
 in your esteem ? Will you not do any thing so rea- 
 sonable and so necessary, and conducive to your hap- 
 piness for his sake ; for his sake who has done and 
 suffered so much for you? Alas! has the name of 
 Jesus no more influence among the creatures he bought 
 with his blood ! It is hard indeed if I beg in vain, 
 when I beg for the sake of Christ, the Friend, the 
 Saviour of perishing souls. 
 
 But if you have no regard for him, you certainly 
 have for yourselves; therefore, for your own sakes, for 
 the sake of your precious immortal souls, for the sake 
 of your own everlasting happiness, I pray } r ou to be 
 reconciled to God. If you refuse, you degrade the 
 honour of your nature, and commence incarnate devils. 
 For what is the snand constituent of a devil but 
 enmity against God ? You become the refuse of the 
 creation, fit for no apartment of the universe but the 
 prison of hell. While you are unreconciled to God 
 you can do nothing at all to please him. He that 
 searches the heart knows that even your good actions 
 do not proceed from love to him, and therefore he 
 abhors them. Ten thousand prayers and acts of devo- 
 tion and morality, as you have no principles of real 
 holiness, are so many provocations to a righteous God. 
 While you refuse to be reconciled, you are accessary 
 to, and patronize all the rebellion of men and devils; 
 for if you have a right to continue in your rebellion, 
 why may not others? why may not every man upon 
 earth ? why may not every miserable ghost in the 
 infernal regions ? And are you for raising an universal 
 mutiny and rebellion against the throne of the most 
 High! O the inexpressible horror of the thought ! If 
 you refuse to be reconciled, you will soon weary out 
 the mercy and patience of God towards you, and he 
 will come forth against you in all the terrors of an
 
 Serm. 3. be reconciled to God. 123 
 
 almighty enemy. He will give death a commission 
 to seize you, and drag you to his flaming tribunal. 
 He will break off the treaty, and never make you one 
 otter of reconciliation more: he will strip you of all 
 the enjoyments he was pleased to lend you, whileyou 
 were under a reprieve, and the treaty was not come 
 to a final issue; and will leave you nothing but bare 
 being, and an extensive capacity of misery, which 
 will be filled up to the uttermost from the vials of his 
 indignation. He will treat you as his implacable 
 enemy, and you shall be to him as Amalek, Exod. xvii. 
 16*. with whom he will make war for ever and ever. 
 He will reprove you, and set your sins in order before 
 you, and tear you in pieces, and there shall be none 
 to deliver. He will meet you as a lion, " and as a 
 bear bereaved of her whelp, and will rend the caul of 
 your hearts." Hos. xiii. 8. He hath for a long time 
 held his peace, and endured your rebellion; but ere 
 long he will go forth as a mighty man; he shall stir 
 up jealousy like a man of war; he shall cry, yea roar; 
 he shall prevail against his enemies. Ah! he will ease 
 him of his adversaries, and avenge him of his enemies. 
 He will give orders to the executioners of his justice: 
 These mine enemies, that would not that I should reign 
 over them, bring them hither, and slay them before 
 me. Luke xix. 27- And now, if you will not sub- 
 mit to peace, prepare to meet your God, O sinners; 
 gird up your loins like men; put on all the terror of 
 your rage, and go forth to meet your almighty adver- 
 sary, who will soon meet you in the field, and try 
 your strength. Call the legions of hell to your aid, 
 and strengthen the confederacy with all your fellow- 
 sinners upon earth ; put briars and thorns around you 
 to inclose from his reach. Prepare the dry stubble to 
 oppose devouring flame. Associate yourselves, but ye 
 shall be broken in pieces; gird yourselves; but, alas! 
 ye shall be broken to pieces. 
 
 But () ! I must drop this ironical challenge, and 
 seriously pray you to make peace with him whom you 
 cannot resist: then all your past rebellion will be 
 forgiven; you shall be the favourites of your sove-
 
 124 . Sinners inireated, $$c. Serm. 3. 
 
 reign, and happy for ever ; and earth and heaven will 
 rejoice at the conclusion of this blessed peace; and 
 my now sad heart will share in the joy. Therefore, 
 for your own sakes, " I pray you to be reconciled 
 to God."
 
 SERMON IT. 
 
 The Nature and Universality of Spiritual 
 
 Death. 
 
 Epiies. ii. 1. and 5. 
 
 JVho were dead in trespasses and sins. Even when we were dead 
 
 in sins. 
 
 THERE is a kind of death which we all expect to 
 feel that carries terror in the very sound, and all 
 its circumstances are shocking to nature. The ghastly 
 countenance, the convulsive agonies, the expiring 
 groan, the coffin, the grave, the devouring worm, the 
 stupor, the insensibility, the universal inactivity, these 
 strike a damp to the spirit, and we turn pale at the 
 thought. With such objects as these in view, courage 
 fails, levity looks serious, presumption is dashed, the 
 cheerful passions sink, and all is solemn, all is melan- 
 choly. The most stupid and hardy sinner cannot but 
 be moved to see these things exemplified in others; 
 and when he cannot avoid the prospect, he is shocked 
 to think that he himself must feel them. 
 
 But there is another kind of death little regarded 
 indeed, little feared, little lamented, which is infinitely 
 more terrible the death, not of the body, but of the 
 soul : a death which does not stupify the limbs but the 
 faculties of the mind : a death which does not separate 
 the soul and body, and consign the latter to the grave; 
 but that separates tiie soul from God, excludes it from 
 all the joys of his presence, and delivers it over to 
 everlasting misery: a tremendous death indeed! "a 
 death unto death." The expression of St. Paul is prodi 
 giously strong and striking; aw*!, vs Q*>x%* } Death
 
 126 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 unto death, death after death, in a dreadful succession, 
 and the last more terrible than the first, Cor. ii. lo\ ; 
 and this is the death meant in my text, dead in tres- 
 passes and sins. 
 
 To explain the context and shew you the connection, 
 I^hall make two short remarks. 
 
 The one is, that the apostle had observed in the nine- 
 teenth and twentieth verses of the foregoing chapter, 
 that the same almighty power of God, which raised 
 Christ from the dead, is exerted to enable a sinner to 
 believe We believe, savs he, according to the working 
 or energy E f7 nav of his mighty power which he wrought 
 in Christ, when he raised him from the dead. The 
 one, as well as the other, is an exploit of omnipotence. 
 The exceeding greatness of his mighty power is ex- 
 erted towards us that believe, as well as it was upon 
 the dead body of Christ to restore it to life, after it 
 had been torn and mangled upon the cross, and lain 
 three days and three nights in the grave. What strong 
 language is this! what a forcible illustration ! Me- 
 thinks this passage alone is sufficient to confound all 
 the vanity and self-sufficiency of mortals, and entirely 
 destroy the proud fiction of a self-sprung faith pro- 
 duced by the efforts of degenerate nature. In my 
 text the apostle assigns the reason of this. The same 
 exertion of the same power is necessary in the one case 
 and the other; because, as the body of Christ was 
 dead, and had no principle of life in it, so, says he, 
 ye were dead in trespasses and sins; and therefore 
 could no more quicken yourselves than a dead body 
 can restore itself to life. But God, ver. 4th, who is 
 rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved 
 us; that God, who raised the entombed Redeemer to 
 life again, that same almighty God, by a like exertion 
 of the same power, hath quickened us, ver. 5th, even 
 when we were dead in sins ; dead, senseless, inactive, 
 and incapable of animating ourselves. Let any man 
 carefully read these verses, and consider their most 
 natural meaning, and I cannot but think common 
 sense will direct him thus to understand them. The 
 scriptures were written with a design to be understood; 
 and therefore that sense which is the most natural to
 
 Serm. 4, of spiritual Death. 127 
 
 a plain unprejudiced understanding is most likely to 
 be true. 
 
 The other remark is, That the apostle having pro* 
 nounced the Ephesians dead in sin, while unconverted, 
 in the first verse, passes the same sentence upon himself 
 and the whole body of the Jews, notwithstanding 
 their high privileges in the fifth verse. The sense and 
 connection may be discovered in the following para- 
 phrase: " You Ephesians were very lately Heathens, 
 and, while you were in that state, you were spiritually 
 dead, and all your actions were dead works. In time 
 past ye walked in trespasses and sins, nor were you 
 singular in your course : though it be infinitely perni- 
 cious, yet it is the common course of this world, and 
 it is also agreeable to the temper and instigation of 
 that gloomy prince, who has a peculiar power in the 
 region of the air; that malignant spirit who works with 
 dreadful efficacy in the numerous children of disobe- 
 dience; but this was not the case of you Heathens 
 alone: we also who are Jews, notwithstanding our 
 many religious advantages, and even I myself, not- 
 withstanding my high privileges and unblameable life 
 as a Pharisee, we also, I say, had our conversation in 
 times past among the children of disobedience ; we all, 
 as well as they, walked in the lusts of the flesh, fulfil- 
 ling the desire and inclinations (ex^/u) of our sen- 
 sual flesh, and of our depraved minds ; for these were 
 tainted with spiritual wickedness, independent upon 
 our animal passions and appetites; and we were all, 
 even by nature, children of wrath, even as others : in 
 this respect we Jews were just like the rest of man- 
 kind, corrupt from our very birth, trangressors from 
 the womb, and liable to the wrath of God. Our ex- 
 ternal relation and privileges as the peculiar people of 
 God, distinguished with a religion from heaven, makes 
 no distinction between us and others in this matter. 
 As we are all children of disobedience by our lives, so 
 we arc all, without exception, children of wrath by 
 nature: but when we are all dead in sins, when Jews 
 and Gentiles were equally dead to God, then, even then, 
 God who is rich in mercy had pity upon us; lit quick- 
 ened ua ; " he inspired us with a new and spiritual life
 
 128 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 by his own almighty power, which raised the dead 
 body of Christ from the grave." He quickened us 
 together with Christ : " We received our life by virtue 
 of our union with him as our vital head, who was 
 raised to an immortal life, that he might quicken dead 
 souls by those influences of his spirit, which he pur* 
 chased by his death; and therefore by grace are ye 
 saved. It is the purest, richest, freest grace, that ever 
 such dead souls as we were made alive to God, and not 
 suffered to remain dead for ever/' 
 
 This is the obvious meaning and connection of these 
 verses ; and we now proceed to consider the text, Dead 
 in trespasses and sins ; you dead, we dead, Jews and 
 Gentiles, all dead together in trespasses and sins, A 
 dismal, mortifying character! " This one place," says 
 Beza, " like a thunderbolt, dashes all mankind down 
 to the dust, great and proud as they are ; for it pro- 
 nounces their nature not only hurt but dead by sin, and 
 therefore liable to wrath*." 
 
 Death is a state of insensibility and inactivity, and 
 a dead man is incapable of restoring himself to life , 
 therefore the condition of an unconverted sinner must 
 have some resemblance to such a state, in order to sup- 
 port the bold metaphor here used by the apostle. To 
 understand it aright we must take care, on the one 
 hand, that we do not explain it away in flattery to 
 ourselves, or in compliment to the pride of human 
 nature : and, on the other hand, that we do not carry 
 the similitude too far, so as to lead into absurdities, 
 and contradict matter of fact. 
 
 The metaphor must be understood with several limi- 
 tations or exceptions; for it is certain there is a wide 
 difference between the spiritual death of the soul, and 
 the natural death of the body, particularly in this re- 
 spect, that death puts an entire end to all the powers, 
 actions, and sensations of our animal nature univer- 
 sally, with regard to all objects of every kind: but a 
 soul dead in sin is only partially dead; that is. it is 
 
 * " Hoc uno loco., quasi fulmine, totas homo,, quantus quantus est 
 prosternitur. Nequc enim naturam divit Uesam, scd mortuam, per pec- 
 eatirm j icleoque irae obuoiiam." . ...
 
 Serai, 4, of spiritual Death. 129 
 
 dead only with regard to a certain kind of sensations 
 and exercises, but in the mean time it may be all life 
 and activity attout other things. It is alive, sensible, 
 and vigorous about earthly objects and pursuits; these 
 raise its passions and engage its thoughts. It has also 
 a dreadful power and facility of sinning, though this 
 is not its life but its disease, its death, like the ten- 
 dency of a dead body to corruption. It can likewise 
 exercise its intellectual powers, and make considerable 
 improvements in science. A sinner dead in trespasses 
 and sins may be a living treasury of knowledge, an 
 universal scholar, a profound philosopher, and even 
 a great divine, as far as mere speculative knowledge 
 can render him such ; nay, he is capable of many sen- 
 sations and impressions from religious ohjects, and of 
 performing all the external duties of religion. He is 
 able to read, to hear, to pray, to meditate upon divine 
 tilings; nay, he may be an instructor of others, and 
 preach perhaps with extensive popularity: he may have 
 a form of godliness, and obtain a name to live among 
 men: he is in some measure able, and it is his duty to 
 attend upon the means God has instituted for quicken- 
 ing him with spiritual life, and God deals with him 
 as with a rational creature, by laws, sanctions, pro- 
 mises, expostulations, and invitations; these conces- 
 sions I make, not only to give you the sense of the 
 text, but also to prevent the abuse of the doctrine, 
 and anticipate some objections against it, as though 
 it were an encouragement to continue idle, and use no 
 means to obtain spiritual life: or as though it rendered 
 all the means of grace needless and absurd, like argu- 
 ments to the dead, to restore themselves to life. But, 
 notwithstanding all these concessions, it is a melan- 
 choly truth that an unregenerate sinner is dead. 
 Though he can commit sin with greediness, though he 
 is capable of animal actions and secular pursuits, nay, 
 though he can employ his mind even about intellec- 
 tual and spiritual things, and is eapable of perform- 
 ing the external duties of religion, yet there is some- 
 thing in religion with regard to which he is entirely 
 dead: there is a kind of spiritual ife of which he is 
 entirely destitute: lie is habitually iujsensible with re^ 
 Vol. I. K
 
 1 30 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 gard to things divine and eternal: he has no activity, 
 no .vigour in the pure, spiritual, and vital exercises of 
 religion: he has no prevailing bent of mind towards 
 them: he has not those views and apprehensions of 
 things which a soul spiritually alive would necessarily 
 receive and entertain: he is destitute of those sacred 
 affections, that joy, that love, that desire, that hope, 
 that fear, that sorrow, which are, as it were, the in- 
 nate passions of the new man. In short, he is so in- 
 active, so listless, so insensible in these respects, that 
 death which puts an end to all action and sensation, 
 is a proper emblem of his state; and this is the mean- 
 ing of the apostle in my text. He is also utterly un- 
 able to quicken himself. He may indeed use means 
 in some sort; but to implant a vital principle in his 
 soul, but to give himself vivid sensations of divine 
 things, and make himself alive towards God, this is 
 entirely beyond his utmost ability: this is as pecu- 
 liarly the work of almighty power as the resurrection of 
 a dead body from the grave. As to this death it is 
 brought upon him by and consists in trespasses and 
 sins. The innate depravity and corruption of the 
 heart, and the habits of sin contracted and confirmed 
 by repeated indulgences of inbred corruption, these are 
 the poisonous, deadly things that have slain the soul ; 
 these have entirely indisposed and disabled it for living 
 religion. Trespasses and sins are the grave, the cor- 
 rupt effluvia, the malignant damps, the rottenness of 
 a dead soul ; it lies dead, senseless, inactive, buried 
 in trespasses and sins. Trespasses and sins render it 
 ghastly, odious, abominable, a noisome putrefaction 
 before an holy God, like a rotten carcass, or a mere 
 mass of corruption : the vilest lusts, like worms, riot 
 upon and devour it, but it feels them not, not can it 
 lift a hand to drive the vermin off. Such mortifying 
 ideas as these mav be contained in the striking meta- 
 prior, dead in trespasses and sins ; and I hope you now 
 understand its general meaning. 
 
 If you would know what has turned my thoughts to 
 this subject, I will candidly tell you, though with a 
 sorrowful heart. I am sure, if any objects within the 
 compass of human knowledge have a tendency to make 
 the deepest impressions upon our minds, they are those
 
 Serm. 4. of spiritual Death. 131 
 
 things which Christianity teaches us concerning God, 
 concerning ourselves, and a future state, and if there 
 be any exercises which should call forth all the life and 
 powers of our souls into action, they are those of a re- 
 ligious nature: but, alas! I often lind a strange, 
 astonishing stupor and listlessness about these things. 
 In this I am not singular; the best among us complain 
 of the same thing; the most lively Christians feel this 
 unaccountable languor and insensibility ; and the ge- 
 nerality are evidently destitute of all habitual concern 
 about them: they are all alive in the pursuit of plea- 
 sure, riches, or honours; their thoughts are easily 
 engaged, and their affections raised by such things as 
 these : but the concerns of religion, which, above all 
 other things, are adapted to make impressions upon 
 them, and stir up all the life within them, seem to 
 have little or no effect. When I have made this ob- 
 servation with respect to others, and felt the melan- 
 choly confirmation of it in my own breast, I have 
 really been struck with amazement, and ready to cry 
 out, " Lord, what is this that has befallen me, and 
 the rest of my fellow-mortals? what can be the cause 
 of such a conduct in a rational nature, to be active 
 and eager about trifles, and stupid and careless about 
 matters of infinite importance? O whence is this 
 strange infatuation!" Thus I have been shocked at 
 this astonishing fact, and I could account for it no 
 other way but by reflecting that we have all been dead 
 in trespasses and sins. In such a solemn hour the 
 apostle's expression does not seem at all too strong. 
 I have no scruple at all to pronounce, not only from 
 the authority of an apostle, but from the evidence of 
 the thing, that I, and all around me, yea, and all the 
 sons of men have been dead; in the spiritual sense, 
 utterly dead. Multitudes among us, yea, the genera- 
 lity are dead still; hence the stillness about religion 
 among us; hence the stupor, the carelessness about 
 eternal things, the thoughtless neglect of God, the 
 insensibility under his providential dispensations, the 
 impenitence, the presumption that so much prevail. 
 God has indeed, out of the great love wherewith he 
 loved us, quickened some of us ; even when we were 
 
 K 'Z
 
 132 The Nature and Universality Slrm;<4. 
 
 dead in sins; and we have a little life, some vital sen- 
 sations and impressions at times, but O ! how little, 
 how superficial, how much of a deadly stupor yet 
 remains ! how little life in prayer, in hearing, or in 
 the nearest approach to the living God! The reflec- 
 tion is shocking, but, alas, it is too true ; consult your 
 own hearts and you will find it even so. Animal life 
 seems to be a gradual thing: it gradually grows in an 
 infant, it is perfect in mature age, and in old age it 
 gradually decays, till all is gone ; but how small is 
 the degree of life when the foetus is just animated, or 
 the infant born into the world! but little superior to 
 that of a plant or an oyster. What faint sensations, 
 what obscure and languid perceptions, what feeble 
 motions ! Such are the children of grace in the present 
 state. Spiritual life is gradual; it is infused in rege- 
 neration; but O! how far from perfection while on 
 this side heaven! Alas! the best of us are like the 
 poor traveller that fell among thieves, and was left 
 half-dead : however, it is an unspeakable mercy to 
 have the least principle of spiritual life; and we should 
 prize it more than crowns and empires. 
 
 If you would know my design in choosing this sub- 
 ject, it is partly for the conviction of sinners, that 
 they may be alarmed with their deplorable condition, 
 which is the first step towards their being quickened; 
 partly to rouze the children of grace to seek more life 
 from their vital head; and partly to display the rich 
 grace of God in quickening such dead sinners, and 
 Jbestowing upon them a spiritual and immortal life; 
 and surely nothing can inflame our gratitude and raise 
 our wonder more than the consideration that we were 
 dead in trespasses and sins? If I may but answer these 
 ends, it will be an unspeakable blessing to us all. And 
 Othat divine grace may honour this humble attempt of 
 a poor creature, at best but half alive, with success! I 
 hope, my brethren, you will hear seriously, for it is 
 really a most serious subject. 
 
 You have seen that the metaphorical expression in 
 my text is intended to represent the stupidity, inacti- 
 vity, and impotence of unregenerate sinners about 
 divine things. This trutli I might confirm by argu-
 
 S e r u. 4. of spiritual Death. 1 35 
 
 men t and scripture-authority; but I think it may be 
 a better method for popular conviction to prove and 
 illustrate it from plain instances of the temper and 
 conduct of sinners about the concerns of religion, as 
 this may force the conviction upon them from un- 
 doubted matters of fact and their own experience. 
 This, therefore, is the method I intend to pursue; and 
 my time will allow me to particularize only the follow- 
 
 ing" instances. 
 
 I. Consider the excellency of the divine Being, the 
 sum total, the great original of all perfections. How 
 infinitely worthy is he of the adoration of all his crea- 
 tures ! how deserving of their most intense thoughts 
 and most ardent affections! If majesty and glory can 
 strike us with awe and veneration, does not Jehovah 
 demand them, who is clothed with majesty and glory 
 as with a garment, and before whom all the inhabitants 
 of the earth are as grasshoppers, as nothing, as less 
 than nothing, and vanity ? If wisdom excites our 
 pleasing wonder, here is an unfathomable depth. O 
 the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge 
 of God! If goodness, grace, and mercy attract our love 
 and gratitude, here these amiable perfections shine in 
 their most alluring glories. If justice strikes a damp 
 to the guilty, here is justice in all its tremendous 
 majesty. If veracity, if candor, if any, or all of the 
 moral virtues engage our esteem, here they all center 
 in their highest perfection. If the presence of a king 
 strikes a reverence ; if the eye of his judge awes the 
 criminal, and restrains him from offending, certainly 
 we should fear before the Lord all the day, for we are 
 surrounded with his omnipresence, and he is the In- 
 spector and Judge of all our thoughts and actions. If 
 riches excite desire, here are unsearchable riches : if 
 happiness has charms that draw all the world after it, 
 here is an unbounded ocean of happiness ; here is the 
 only complete portion for an immortal mind. Men 
 arc affected with these things in one another, though 
 found in a very imperfect degree. Power awes and 
 commands; virtue and goodness please ; beauty charms; 
 justice strikes with solemnity and terror; a bright 
 genius is admired ; a benevolent merciful temper is 
 
 K 3
 
 1 Si The Nature and Universality Se rm. 4. 
 
 loved : thus men are affected with created excellencies. 
 Whence is it then they are so stupidly unaffected with 
 the supreme original excellencies of Jehovah ? Here, 
 my brethren, turn your eyes inward upon yourselves, 
 and enquire, are not several of you conscious that, 
 tho' you have passions for such objects as these, and you 
 are easily moved by them, yet, with regard to the per- 
 fections of the supreme aud best of beings, your hearts 
 are habitually senseless and unaffected. It is not an 
 easy thing to make impressions upon you by them ; 
 and what increases the wonder, and aggravates your 
 guilt is, that you are thus senseless and unaffected, 
 when you believe and profess that these perfections are 
 really in God, and that in the highest degree possible. 
 In other cases you can love what appears amiable, you 
 revere what is great and majestic, you eagerly desire 
 and pursue what is valuable, and tends to your hap- 
 piness ; and all this you do freely, spontaneously, 
 vigorously, by the innate inclination and tendency of 
 your nature, without reluctance, without compulsion, 
 nay, without persuasion; but as to God and all his 
 perfections, you are strangely insensible, backward, 
 and averse. Where is there one being that has any 
 confessed excellency in the compass of human know- 
 ledge, that does not engage more of the thoughts and 
 affections of mankind than the glorious and ever blessed 
 God ? The sun, moon, and stars, have had more wor- 
 shippers than the uncreated fountain of light from 
 which they derive their lustre. Kings, and ministers 
 of state, have more punctual homage and frequent 
 applications made to them than the King of kings, 
 and Lord of lords. Created enjoyments are more 
 eagerly pursued than the Supreme Good. Search all 
 the world over, and you will find but very little motions 
 of heart towards God ; little love, little desire, little 
 searching after him. You will often, indeed, see him 
 honoured with the compliment of a bended knee, and 
 a few heartless words, under the name of a prayer; but 
 where is the heart, or where are the thoughts, where 
 the affections ? These run wild through the world, 
 and are scattered among a thousand other objects, 
 The heart has no prevailing tendency towards God,
 
 Serm. 4. of spiritual Death, 135 
 
 the thoughts are shy of him, the affections have no 
 innate propensity to him. In short, in this respect, the 
 whole man is out of order : here he does not at all act 
 like himself; here are no affectionate thoughts, no 
 delightful meditations, no ardent desires, no eager pur- 
 suits and vigorous endeavours, but all is listless, stupid, 
 indisposed, inactive, and averse ; and what is the 
 matter ? :i Lord ! what is this that has seized the 
 souls of thine own offspring, that they are thus ut- 
 terly disordered towards thee!" The reason is, they 
 are dead, dead in trespasses and sins. It is impossible 
 a living soul should be so stupid and unaffected with 
 such an object : it must be a dead soul that has no 
 feeling. Yes, sinners, this is the melancholy reason 
 why you are so thoughtless, so unconcerned, so sense- 
 less v about the God that made you ; you are dead. 
 And what is the reason that you who have been begot- 
 ten again to a spiritual life, and who are united to 
 Christ as your vital head, what is the reason that you 
 so often feci such languishments ; that the pulse of 
 spiritual life beats so faint and irregular, and that its 
 motions are so feeble and slow ? All this you feel and 
 lament, but how comes it to pass? what can be the 
 cause that you who have indeed tasted that the Lord 
 is gracious, and are sensible that he is all-glorious and 
 lovely, and your only happiness ! O ! what can be the 
 cause, that you, of all men in the world, should be so 
 little engaged to him! Alas! the cause is, you have 
 been dead, and the deadly stupor has not yet left you: 
 you have ( blessed be the quickening spirit of Christ !) 
 you have received a little life; but, alas! it is a feeble 
 spark; it finds the principles of death still strong in 
 your constitution ; these it must struggle with, and by 
 them it is often borne down, suppressed, and just 
 expiring. Walk humbly, then, and remember your 
 shame, that you were once dead, and children of wrath, 
 even as others. The carelessness and indisposition of 
 the soul towards the supreme excellence will appear yet 
 more evident and astonishing, if we consider, 
 
 II. The august and endearing relations the great 
 and blessed God sustains to us, and the many ways he 
 has taken to make dutiful and grateful impressions
 
 136 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 upon our hearts. What tender endearments are there 
 contained in the relation of a Father ! This he bears to 
 us; he made its, and not we ourselves. Our bodies 
 indeed are produced in a succession from Adam by 
 generation, but who -was it that began the series ? It 
 was the Almighty, who formed the first man of the 
 dust: it was him who first put the succession of causes 
 in motion ; and therefore he is the <*rand original cause, 
 and the whole chain depends upon him. Who was it 
 that first established the laws of generation, and still 
 continues them in force? It is the all-creating Parent 
 of nature ; and without him jnen M'ould have been no 
 more able to produce one another than stones or clods 
 of earth. As to our souls, the principle part of our 
 persons, God is their immediate author, without the 
 least concurrence of secondary causes. Hence he is 
 called the Father of our spirits in a peculiar sense, 
 Ileb. xii. 9- and he assumes the endearing name of 
 " the God of the spirits of all flesh," Numb. xvi. 22, 
 Now the name of a father is wont to carry some en- 
 dearment and authority. Children, especially in their 
 young and helpless years, are fond of their father; 
 their little hearts beat with a thousand grateful passions 
 towards him; they love to be daudled on his knees, 
 and fondled in his arms: and they fly to him upon 
 every appearance of danger; but if God be a father, 
 where is his honour? here, alas! the filial passions 
 are senseless and immmoveablc. It is but a little time 
 since we came from his creating hand, and yet we have 
 forgotten him. It seems unnatural for his own of? 
 spring to enquire " where is God my Maker?" They 
 show no fondness for him, no affectionate veneration, 
 and no humble confidence ; their hearts are dead to- 
 wards him, as though there were no such being, or no 
 such near relation subsisting between them. In child- 
 hood a rattle or a straw, or any trifle, is more thought 
 of than their heavenly Father: in riper years their vain 
 pleasures and secular pursuits command more of their 
 affections than their divine original and only happi- 
 ness. 
 
 Compare your natural temper towards your heavenly 
 Father, and towards your earthly parents, and how
 
 Serm. 4. of spiritual Death. 137 
 
 wide is the difference ! Nature works strong in your 
 hearts towards them, but towards him all the filial pas- 
 sions are dull and dead ; and why ? alas ! the reason is, 
 you are dead in trespasses and sins. But this relation 
 of a Father is not the only relation our God sustains to 
 you ; he is your supreme King, to whom you owe alle- 
 giance; your Lawgiver, whose will is the rule of your 
 conduct; and your Judge, who will call you to an 
 account, and reward or punish you according to your 
 works ; but how unnatural is it to men to revere the 
 most high God under these august characters ! Where 
 is there a king upon earth, however weak or tyrannical, 
 but is more regarded by his subjects than the King of 
 heaven by the generality of men? Were ever such ex- 
 cellent laws contemned and violated? Did ever crimi- 
 nals treat their Judge with so much neglect and con- 
 tempt ? And are those souls alive to God who thus 
 treat him ? No. Alas ! " they are dead in trespasses 
 and sins ;" however lively they are towards other things, 
 yet in this respect they are seized with a deadly stupor. 
 God is also our Guardian and Deliverer; and from 
 how many dangers has he preserved us! from how 
 many calamities has he delivered us ! Dangers, dis- 
 tresses, and deaths crowd upon us and surround us in 
 every age and every place : the air, the earth, the sea, 
 and every element are pregnant with numberless prin- 
 ciples of pain and death ready to seize and destroy us: 
 sickness and death swarm around us : nay, they lie in 
 ambush in our own constitution, and are perpetually 
 undermining our lives, and yet our divine Guardian 
 preserves us for months and years unhurt, untouched ; 
 or, if he suffers the calamity to fall, or death to 
 threaten, he flies to our deliverance; and how many 
 salvations of this kind has he wrought for us, salva- 
 tions from accidents, from sicknesses, from pain, from 
 sorrows, from death ; salvations for our persons and 
 our possessions, for ourselves, and for our friends and 
 relations; salvations from dangers seen and unseen; 
 salvations in infancy, in youth, and in maturcr years! 
 These things we cannot deny without the most stupid 
 ignorance, and an atheistical disbelief of divine Pro- 
 vidence. Now such repeated, such long continued,
 
 133 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 such unmerited favours as these would not pass for 
 nothing between man and man. We have hearts to 
 feel such obligations; nay, the ten thousandth, the 
 millionth part of such gracious care and gooduess 
 would be gratefully resented, and thankfully acknow- 
 ledged. Indeed it is impossible we should receive even 
 this small, this very small proportion of favours from 
 men in comparison of what we receive from God; and 
 even when they are the instruments of our deliverance, 
 he is the original Author. But, after all, is there a 
 natural aptitude in the hearts of men to think of their 
 gracious Guardian and Saviour? Does the principle 
 of gratitude naturally lead them to love him, and to 
 make thankful acknowledgments to him ? Alas \ No. . 
 They may indeed feel some transient, superficial 
 workings of gratitude when under the fresh sense of 
 some remarkable deliverance; but these impressions 
 soon wear off, and they become as thoughtless and 
 stupid as ever. But let a man, like yourselves, save 
 you from some great distress, you will always gratefully 
 remember him, think of him often with pleasure, and 
 take all opportunities of returning his kindness, espe- 
 cially if your deliverer was much your superior, and 
 independent upon you, if you had forfeited his favour, 
 provoked him, and incurred his displeasure : great 
 favours from such an one would make impressions upon 
 the most obdurate heart. 
 
 But though God be infinitely superior to us, and 
 It is nothing to him what becomes of us, though we 
 have rebelled against him, and deserve his vengeance, 
 yet ten thousand deliverances from his hands have lit' 
 tie or no effect upon the hearts of men : all these can- 
 not bring them to think of him, or love him as much 
 as they do a friend, or a common benefactor of their 
 own species : and does such stupid ingratitude discover 
 any spiritual life in them ! No; they are dead in this 
 respect, though they are all alive to those passions that 
 terminate upon created objects. Farther, God is the 
 Benefactor of mankind, not only in delivering them 
 from dangers and calamities, but in bestowing unnum- 
 bered positive blessings upon them. Here I cannot 
 pretend to be particular, for the list of blessings is
 
 Setim. 4. of spiritual Death 139 
 
 endless ; and it will be the happy employment of an 
 eternity to recollect and enumerate them. What an 
 extensive and well-furnished world has our God form- 
 ed for our accommodation ? For us he has enriched the 
 sun with light and heat, and the earth with fruitful- 
 ness. The numerous inhabitants of every element, the 
 plants, minerals, and beasts of the earth, the fishes of 
 the sea, the fowls of the air, are all rendering their 
 service to man; some afford him food, and others work 
 for him : the winds and seas, fire and water, stones 
 and trees, all conspire to be useful to him. Our divine 
 Benefactor crowns us with the blessings of liberty, of 
 society, of friendship, and the most endearing rela- 
 tions : he preserves our health, gives us " rain from 
 heaven, and fruitful seasons, and fills our hearts with 
 food and gladness." In short, he gives us life, and 
 breath, and all things; every day, every hour, every 
 moment has arrived to us richly freighted with bless- 
 ings ; blessings have resided with us at home, and 
 attended us abroad; blessings presented themselves 
 ready for our enjoyment as soon as we entered into the 
 world ; then God provided hands to receive us, knees 
 to support us, breasts to suckle us, and parents to 
 guard and cherish us; blessings have grown up with 
 us, and given such constant attendance, that they are 
 become familiar to us, and are the inseparable com- 
 panions of our lives. It is no new or unusual thing 
 to us to see an illustrious sun rising to give us the day, 
 to enjoy repose in the night, to rise refreshed and 
 vigorous in the morning, to see our tables spread with 
 plenty, the trees covered with fruit, the fields with 
 grain, and various forms of animals growing up for 
 our support or service, These are such familiar bless- 
 ings to us, that they too often seem things of course, 
 or necessary appendages of our being. What a crowd 
 of blessings have crowned the present morning ! You 
 and yours are alive and well, you have not come hither 
 ghastly and pining with hunger, or agonizing with 
 pain. How many refreshing draughts of air have you 
 drawn this morning ; how many sprightly and regular 
 pulses have beat through your frame, how many easy 
 motions have you performed with hands, feet, eyes,
 
 140 The Nature and Universality Seem 4. 
 
 tongue, and other members of your body ! and are not 
 all these favours from God ? Yes, undoubtedly ; and 
 thus has he gone on blessing you all your days, with- 
 out any interruption at all in many of these particulars 
 of kindness, and with but very little in the rest. Sin- 
 ful and miserable as this world is, it is a treasury rich 
 in blessings, a store-house full of provisions, a dwel- 
 ling well furnished for the accommodation of mortals, 
 m\d all by the care, and at the expence of that gra-r 
 cious God who first made and still preserves it what it 
 is. " Lord, whence is it then that the inhabitants 
 forget and neglect thee, as though they were not at all 
 obliged to thee! O whence is it that they love thy 
 gifts, and yet disregard the Giver; that they think less 
 of thee than of an earthly father or friend, or an 
 human benefactor ; that there should be so little grar 
 titude towards thee, that of all benefactors thou 
 shouldst be the least acknowledged; that the benefac- 
 tors of nations, and even of private persons, in instant 
 ces unworthy to be mentioned with those of thy good- 
 ness, should be celebrated, and even adored, while 
 thou art neglected, thine agency overlooked, and thy 
 goodness forgotten ? O whence is this strange phe- 
 nomenon, this unaccountable, unprecedented stupidity 
 and ingratitude in reasonable creatures ? Surely, if 
 they had any life, any sensation in this respect, they 
 would not be capable of such a conduct; but they are 
 dead, dead to all the generous sensations of gratitude 
 to God : and as a dead corpse feels no gratitude to 
 those that perform the last friendly office, and cover 
 it with earth, so a dead soul stands unmoved under 
 all the profusion of blessings which Heaven pours 
 upon it." 
 
 The blessings I have mentioned, which are con- 
 fined to the present state, are great, and deserve our 
 wonder and thanksgiving, especially considering that 
 they are bestowed upon a race of rebellious, ungrate- 
 ful creatures, who deserve the severest vengeance ; 
 but there is a set of blessings yet unmentioned, of 
 infinitely greater importance, in which all others are 
 swallowed up, by the glory of which they are ob- 
 scured, like the stars of night by the rising sun. To
 
 Serm. 4. of spiritual Death. 141. 
 
 some of our race God has given crowns and kingdoms. 
 For Israel Jehovah wrought the most astonishing 
 miracles; seas and rivers opened to make way tor 
 them; rocks hurst into springs of water to quench 
 their thirst ; the clouds poured down manna, and fed 
 them with hread from heaven: their God delivered 
 Daniel from the jaws of hungry lions, and his three 
 companions from the burning fiery furnace. He has 
 restored health to the sick, sight to the blind, and 
 life to the dead, These blessings and deliverances 
 have something majestic and striking in them ; and 
 had we been the subjects of them, we could not but 
 have regarded them as great aud singular; but what 
 are these in comparison of God's gift of his Son, 
 and the blessings he has purchased ! his Son, who 
 is of greater value, and dearer to him than ten thou- 
 sand worlds; his beloved Son, in whom he is well 
 pleased ; him has he given for us, given up to three 
 and thirty years of the most mortifying abasement, 
 and an incessant conflict with the severest trials ; 
 given up to death, and all the ignominy and agonies 
 of crucifixion. Thus has God loved our world ! and 
 never was there such a display of love in heaven or on 
 earth. You can no more find love equal to this among 
 creatures, than you can find among them the infinite 
 power that formed the universe out of nothing. This 
 will stand upon record to all eternity, as the unpre- 
 cedented, unparalleled, inimitable love of God. And 
 it appears the more illustrious when we consider that 
 this unspeakable gift was given to sinners, to rebels, to 
 enemies, that were so far from deserving it, that, on 
 the other hand, it is a miracle of mercy that they are 
 not all groaning for ever under the tremendous weight 
 of his justice. O that I could say something becom- 
 ing this love : something that mi;ht do honour to it* 
 but, alas ! the language of mortals was formed fol- 
 lower subjects. This love passes all description and 
 all knowledge. Consider also what rich blessings 
 Christ has purchased for us : purchased not with such 
 corruptible things as silver and gold, but with his 
 own precious blood : the price recommends and en^ 
 dears the blessings, though they are so great iu them-
 
 J42 The Nature and Universality Serih. 4. 
 
 selves as to need no such recommendation. What 
 can be greater or more suitable blessings to persons 
 in our circumstances, than pardon for the guilty, 
 redemption for slaves, righteousness and justification 
 for the condemned, sanctifi cation for the unholy, 
 rest for the weary, comfort for mourners, the favour 
 of God for rebels and exiles, strength for the impo- 
 tent, protection for the helpless, everlasting happi- 
 ness for the heirs of hell ! and, to sum up all, grace 
 and glory, and every good thing, and all the un- 
 searchable riches of Christ for the wretched and 
 miserable, the poor, and blind, and naked ! These 
 are blessings indeed, and, in comparison of them, all 
 the riches of the world are impoverished, and vanish 
 to nothing ; and all these blessings are published, 
 offered freely, indefinitely offered to you, to me, to 
 the greatest sinner on earth, in the gospel ; and we 
 are allowed, allowed did I say? we are invited with 
 the utmost importunity, intreated with the most com- 
 passionate tenderness and condescension, and com- 
 manded by the highest authority, upon pain of eternal 
 damnation, to accept the blessings presented to us ! 
 And what reception does all this love meet with in 
 our world ! I tremble to think of it. It is plain, 
 these things are proposed to a world dead in sin ; 
 for they are all still, all unmoved, all senseless under 
 such a revelation of infinite grace; mankind know 
 not what it is to be moved, melted, transported 
 with the love of a crucified Saviour, till divine grace 
 visits their hearts, and forms them into new creatures : 
 they feel no eager solicitude, nay, not so much as a 
 willingness to receive these blessings, till they become 
 willing by almighty power; and judge ye, my brethren, 
 whether they are not dead souls that are proof even 
 against the love of God in Christ, that are not moved 
 and melted by the agonies of his cross, that are care- 
 less about such inestimable blessings as these? lias 
 that soul any spiritual life in it that can sit senseless 
 under the cross of Jesus, that can forget him, neglect 
 him, dishonour him, after all his love and all his suffer- 
 ings; that feels a prevailing indifferency and languor 
 towards him; that loves him less than an earthly
 
 Sf.rm. 4. of spiritual Death. 143 
 
 friend, and seeks him with less eagerness than gold and 
 silver? Is not every generous passion, every principle 
 of gratitude quite extinct in such a spirit ? It may be 
 alive to other objects, but towards this it is dead ; and 
 alas ! is not this the common case ! O look round the 
 world, and what do you see but a general neglect 
 of the blessed Jesus, and all the blessings of his gos- 
 pel? How cold, how untoward, how reluctant, how 
 averse are the hearts of men towards him ? how hard 
 to persuade them to think of him and love him ? 
 Try to persuade men to give over their sins which 
 grieve him, dishonour him, and were the cause of 
 his death;. try to engage them to devote themselves 
 entirely to him, and live to his glory, alas ! you 
 try in vain ; their hearts still continue cold and hard 
 as a stone; try to persuade them to murder or 
 robbery, and you are more likely to prevail. Suffer 
 me, in my astonishment, to repeat this most melan- 
 choly truth again; the generality of mankind are 
 habitually careless about the blessed Jesus ; they will 
 not seek him, nor give him their hearts and affec- 
 tions, though they must perish for ever by their 
 neglect of him ! Astonishing, and most lamentable, 
 that ever such perverseness and stupidity should seize 
 the soul of man ! Methinks 1 could here take up a 
 lamentation over human nature, and fall on my 
 kness with this prayer for my fellow-men, " Father 
 of spirits, and Lord of life, quicken, O quicken these 
 dead souls !" O, sirs, while we see death all around us, 
 and feel it benumbing our own souls, who can help 
 the most bitter wailing and lamentation ; who can 
 restrain himself from crying to the Author of life for a 
 happy resurrection ! While the valley of dry bones lies 
 before me, while the carnage, the charnel-house of im- 
 mortal souls strikes my sight all around me far and 
 wide, how can I forbear crying, Come from the four 
 winds, O breath; breathe upon these slain, that they 
 may live. Hut to return from this digression, into 
 which I was unavoidably hurried by the horror of the 
 subject, I would observe farther, that kind usage and 
 pleasing treatment may not be always best for such
 
 144 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4, 
 
 creatures as we are: fatherly severities and chastise- 
 ments, though not agreeable to us, yet may be neces- 
 sary and conducive to our greatest good. According- 
 ly, God has tried the force of chastisements to make 
 impressions on our hearts : these indeed have been but 
 few in comparison of his more agreeable despensations ; 
 yet recollect whether you have not frequently felt his 
 rod. Have you not languished under sickness and 
 pain, and been brought within a near view of the king 
 of terrors? Have you not suffered the bereavement 
 of friends and relations, and met with losses, adversity, 
 and diappointments ? Others have felt still greater 
 calamities in a closer succession, and with fewer mer- 
 cies intermixed. These things, one would think, would 
 immediately bring men to regard the hand that smites 
 them, and make them sensible of their undutiful con- 
 duct, which has procured the correction: these are 
 like the application of fire to one in a lethargy, to 
 awaken him to life; but alas! under all these afflic- 
 tions, the stupor and insensibility still remain. Sinners 
 groan by reason of oppression, but it is not natural for 
 them to inquire, Where is God my Maker, that giveth 
 songs in the night ? It is not natural for them to 
 repent of their undutiful conduet and amend; or if 
 they are awakened to some little sense, while the pain- 
 ful rod of the Almighty is yet upon them, as soon as 
 it is removed they become as hardened and senseless as 
 ever. And is not a state of death a very proper repre- 
 sentation of such sullen, incorrigible stupidity ? Liv- 
 ing souls have very tender sensations; one touch of 
 their heavenly Father's hand makes deep impressions 
 upon them ; they tremble at his frown, they fall and 
 weep at his feet, they confess their offences, and mourn 
 over them ; they fly to the arms of his mercy to escape 
 the impending blow; and thus would all do were they 
 not quite destitute of spiritual life. 
 
 I have materials sufficient for a discourse of some, 
 hours; but at present I must abruptly drop the sub- 
 ject: however, I cannot dismiss you without making 
 a i'vw reflections. And, 
 
 {. What a strange affecting view docs this subject
 
 Serm. 4. of spiritual Death. 145 
 
 give us of this assembly ! I doubt not but I may 
 accommodate the text to some of you with this agree- 
 able addition, "You hath he quickened, though you 
 were once dead in trespasses and sins." Though the 
 vital pulse beats faint and irregular, and your spiritual 
 life is but very low, yet, blessed be God, you are not 
 entirely dead : you have some living sensations, some 
 lively and vigorous exercises in religion. On the other 
 hand, I doubt not but some of you not only were, but 
 still are dead in trespasses and sins. It is not to be 
 expected in our world, at least not before the millen- 
 nium, that we shall see such a mixed company toge- 
 ther, and all living souls. Here then is the difference 
 between you; some of you are spiritually alive, and some 
 of you are spiritually dead: here the living and the 
 dead are blended together in the same assembly, on the 
 same seat, and united in the nearest relations : here 
 sits a dead soul, there another, and there another, and 
 a few living souls are scattered here and there among 
 them : here is a dead parent and a living child, or a 
 dead child and a living parent: here life and death (O 
 shocking) ! are united in the bonds of conjugal love, 
 and dwell under the same roof: here is a dead servant 
 and a living master; and there a dead master (O ter- 
 rible!) commands a living servant. Should I trace 
 the distinction beyond this assembly into the world, 
 we shall find a family here and there that have a little 
 life; perhaps one, perhaps two, discover some vital 
 symptoms; but O what crowds of dead families! all 
 dead together, and no endeavours used to bring one 
 another to life; a death-like silence about eternal 
 things ; a deadly stupor and insensibility reign among 
 them; they breathe out no desires and prayers after 
 God, nor does the vital pulse of love beat in their 
 hearts towards him; but, on the contrary, their souls 
 are putrifying in sin, which is very emphatically called 
 corruption by the sacred writers; they are overrun and 
 devoured by their lusts, as worms insult and destroy 
 the dead body. Call to them, they will not awake ; 
 thunder the terrors of the Lord in their ears, they will 
 not hear; offer them all the blessings of the gospel, 
 Vol. I, L
 
 146 The Nature and Universality Serm. 4. 
 
 they will not stretch out the hand of faith to receive 
 them: lay the word of God, the bread of life, before 
 them, they have no appetite for it. In short, the plain 
 symptoms of death are upon them : the animal is alive, 
 hut alas! the spirit is dead towards God. And what 
 an affecting', melancholy view does this give of this 
 assembly, and of the world in general ! O that my 
 head zvere waters, and mine eyes fountains of tears, 
 that I might weep day and night for the slain of the 
 daughter of my people I Weep not for the afflicted,, 
 weep not over ghastly corpses dissolving into their 
 original dust, but O weep for dead souls. Should God 
 now strike all those persons dead in this assembly 
 whose souls are dead in trespasses and sins, should he 
 lay them all in pale corpses before us, like Ananias and 
 Sapphira at the apostle's feet, what numbers of you 
 would never return from this house more, and what 
 lamentations would there be among the surviving few ! 
 One would lose a husband or a wife, another a son or 
 a daughter, another a father or a mother; and alas I 
 would not some whole families be swept oft' together, 
 all blended in one promiscuous death ! Such a sight as 
 this would strike terror into the hardiest heart among 
 you. But what is this to a company of rational spirits 
 slain and dead in trespasses and sins ? How deplorable 
 and inexpressibly melancholy a sight this? Therefore, 
 <2. Awake thou that steepest, and arise from the dead, 
 that Christ may give thee light. This call is directed 
 to you dead sinners ; which is a sufficient warrant for 
 me to exhort and persuade you. The principle of 
 reason is still alive in you; you arc also sensible of 
 your own interest, and feel the workings of self-love. 
 It is God alone that can quicken you, but he effects 
 this by a power that does not exclude, but attends 
 rational instructions and persuasions to your under- 
 standing. Therefore, though I am sure you will con- 
 tinue dead still if left to yourselves, yet, with some 
 trembling hopes that his power may accompany my 
 feeble words, and impregnate them with life, I call 
 upOn, I intreat, I charge you sinners to rouse your- 
 selves out of your dead sleep, and seek to obtain spi*
 
 Serii. 4. of spiritual Death. 147 
 
 ritual life. Now, while my voice sounds in your ears, 
 now, this moment, waft up this prayer, " Lord, pity 
 a dead soul, a soul that has been dead for ten, twenty, 
 thirty, forty years, or more, and lain corrupting in, 
 sin, and say unto me, Live : from this moment let 
 me live unto thee." Let this prayer be still upon 
 your hearts : keep your souls always in a supplicating 
 posture, and who knows but that he, who raised 
 Lazarus from the grave, may give you a spiritual 
 resurrection to a more important life? But if you. 
 wilfully continue your security, expect in a little time 
 to suffer the second death, the mortification will be- 
 come incurable; and then, though you will be still dead 
 to God, yet you will be " tremblingly alive all over" 
 to the sensations of pain and torture. O that I could 
 gain but this one request of you, which your own 
 interest so strongly enforces ! but alas ! it has been 
 so often refused, that to expect to prevail is to hope 
 against hope. 
 
 3. Let the children of God be sensible of their great 
 happiness in being made spiritually alive. Life is a 
 principle, a capacity necessary for enjoyments of any 
 kind. Without animal life you would be as incapable 
 of animal pleasures as a stone or a clod; and without 
 spiritual life you can no more enjoy the happiness of 
 heaven than a beast or a devil. This, therefore, is a 
 preparative, a previous qualification, and a sure pledge 
 and earnest of everlasting life. How highly then are 
 you distinguished, and what cause have you for gra- 
 titude and praise ! 
 
 4. Let us all be sensible of this important truth, 
 that it is entirely by grace we are saved. This is the 
 inference the apostle expressly makes from this doc- 
 trine; and he is so full of it, that he throws it into 
 a parenthesis (verse the 5th) though it breaks the 
 connection of his discourse; and as soon as he has 
 room he resumes it again (verse 8th) and repeats it 
 over and over, in various forms, in the compass of 
 a few verses. By grace are ye saved. By grace are 
 you saved through faith. It is the gift of God , not 
 of yourselves, not of -works (verse yth.) This, von 
 
 L 2
 
 148 The Nature and Universality, <c Serm. 4. 
 
 see, is an inference that seemed of great importance 
 to the apostle ; and what can more naturally follow 
 from the premises ? If we were once dead in sin, cer- 
 tainly it is owing to the freest grace that we have been 
 quickened ; therefore, when we survey the change, let 
 us cry, " Grace, grace unto it."
 
 SERMON V* 
 The Nature and Process of Spiritual Life. 
 
 Ephes. ii. 4, 5. 
 
 But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he 
 loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us to- 
 gether with Christ. 
 
 IT is not my usual method to M r cary your attention 
 by a long confinement to one subject ; and our re- 
 ligion furnishes us with such a boundless variety of 
 important topics, that a minister who makes them his 
 study will find no temptation to cloy you with repe- 
 titions, but rather finds it difficult to speak so concisely 
 on one subject, as to leave room for others of equal 
 importance : however the subject of my last discourse 
 was so copious and interesting, that I cannot dismiss 
 it without a supplement. I there shewed you some of 
 the symptoms of spiritual death; but I would not leave 
 you dead as I found you: and therefore I intend now 
 to consider the counterpart of that subject, and shew 
 you the nature and symptoms of spiritual life, 
 
 I doubt not but a number of you have been made 
 alive to God by his quickening spirit; but many, I 
 fear, still continue dead in trespasses and sins; and, 
 while such arc around me, I cannot help imagining my 
 situation something like that of the prophet Ezekiei 
 (ch. xxxvii.) in the midst of the valley full of dry bones, 
 spread far and wide around him: and should I be asked, 
 Can these dry bones, can these dead souls live? I must 
 answer with him, () Lord God, thou knowest. *' Lord, 
 1 sec no symptoms of life in them, no tendency to- 
 wards it. I know nothing is impossible to thee; I 
 
 L3
 
 150 The 'Nature and Process Serm. 5. 
 
 firmly believe thou canst inspire them with life, dry 
 and dead as they are; and what thy designs are towards 
 them, whether thou intendest to evert thy all-quicken- 
 ing power upon them, thou only knowest, and I would 
 not presume to determine; but this I know, that, if 
 they are left to themselves, they will continue dead to 
 all eternity ; for, O Lord, the experiment has been 
 repeatedly tried; M:hy servant has over and over made 
 those quickening applications to them which thy word, 
 that sacred dispensary, prescribes; but all in vain; 
 they still continue dead towards thee, and lie putrify- 
 ing more and more in trespasses and sins : however, 
 at thy command, I would attempt the most unpromis- 
 ing undertaking; I would proclaim even unto dry 
 bones and dead souls, O ye dry bones, O ye dead 
 souls, hear the word of the Lord, Ezek. xxxvii. 4. 
 I would also cry aloud for the animating breath of the 
 holy Spirit, Come from the four winds and breathe; 
 breathe upon these slain, that they may live, v. 9-" 
 
 Ye deadjsinners, I would make one attempt more in 
 the name of the Lord to bring you to life; and if I 
 have the least hope of success, it is entirely owing to 
 the encouraging peradventure that the quickening spirit 
 of Christ may work upon your hearts while I am ad- 
 dressing myself to your ears. And, O sirs, let us all 
 keep our souls in a praying posture, throughout this 
 discourse. If one of you should fall into a swoon or 
 an apoplexy, how would all about you bestir them- 
 selves to bring you to life again ! And alas ! shall dead 
 souls lie so thick among us, in every assembly, in every 
 family; and shall no means be used for their recovery ? 
 Did Martha and Mary apply to Jesus with all the arts 
 of importunity in behalf of their sick and deceased 
 brother, and are there not some of you that have dead 
 relations, dead friends and neighbours, I mean dead in 
 the worst sense, " dead in trespasses and sins ?" and 
 will you not apply to Jesus, the Lord of life, and follow 
 him with your importunate cries, till he come and call 
 them to life? Now let parents turn intercessors for 
 their children, children for their parents, friend for 
 frjend, neighbour for neighbour, yea enemy for enemy. 
 O ! should we all take "this method, we might S0014
 
 S e rm. 5. of spiritual Life, 15] 
 
 expect to see the valley of dry bones full of living 
 souls, an exceeding great army. Ezek. xxxvii. 10. - 
 In praying for this great and glorious event, you do 
 not pray for an impossibility. Thousands, as dead as 
 they, have obtained a joyful resurrection by the power 
 of God. Here in my text you have an instance of a 
 promiscuous crowd of Jews and Gentiles that had lain 
 tlead in sin together, and even St. Paul among them, 
 who were recovered to life, and are now enjoying an 
 immortal life in the heavenly regions; and, blessed be 
 God, this spiritual life is not entirely extinct among 
 us. Among the multitudes of dead souls that we 
 every where meet with, we find here and there a soul 
 that has very different symptoms: once indeed it was 
 like the rest ; but now, while they are quite senseless 
 of divine things, and have no vital aspirations after 
 God, this soul cannot be content with the richest 
 affluence of created enjoyments; it pants and breathes 
 after God ; it feeds upon his word, it feels an almighty 
 energy in eternal things, and receives vital sensations 
 from them. It discovers life and vigour in devotion, 
 and serves the living God with pleasure, tho' it is also 
 subject to fits of languishment, and at times seems just 
 expiring, and to lose all sensation. And whence is this 
 vast difference? Why is this soul so different from 
 what it once was, and what thousands around still are? 
 Why can it not, like them, and like itself formerly, lie 
 dead and senseless in sin, without any vital impressions 
 or experiences from God or divine things ? The reason, 
 the happy reason, my brethren, is, this is a living soul ; 
 " Goo, out of the great love wherewith he loved it, 
 hath quickened it together with Christ," and hence it 
 is alive to him. 
 
 My present design is to explain the nature and pro-* 
 perties of this divine life, and to shew you the manner 
 in which it is usually begun in the soul: I shall open 
 with the consideration of the last particular. 
 
 Here you must observe, that, though spiritual lifti 
 is instantaneously infused, yet God prepares the soul 
 for its reception by a course of previous operations* 
 He spent six days in the creation of the world, though 
 he might have spoken it into being in an instant.- 
 
 L4
 
 152 The Nature and Process Serm. 5. 
 
 Thus he usually creates the soul anew after a gradual 
 process of preparatory actions. In forming the first 
 man, he first created chaos out of nothing, then he 
 digested it into earth ; on the sixth day he formed 
 and organized the earth into a body, with all its 
 endless variety of members, juices, muscles, fibres, 
 veins, and arteries ; and then, after this process, he 
 inspired it with a living soul ; and what was but a 
 lump of clay, sprung up a perfect man. Thus also 
 the foetus in the womb is for some months in forma- 
 tion before the soul or the principle of lite is infused. 
 In like manner the Almighty proceeds in quickening 
 us with spiritual life; we all pass through a course 
 of preparation, though some through a longer, and 
 some shorter. And as one reason why the great 
 Creator took up so much time in the creation of the 
 world probably was, that he might allow the angels 
 time for leisurely surveys of the astonishing process, 
 so he may advance thus gradually in the new crea- 
 tion, that we may observe the various steps of the 
 operation, and make proper reflections upon it in 
 future life. My present design is to trace these steps 
 to their grand result, that you may know whether ever 
 divine grace has carried you through this gracious 
 process. 
 
 And that you may not fall into needless perplexi- 
 ties, it may be necessary for me to premise farther, 
 that there is a great variety in these preparatory ope- 
 rations, and in the degrees of spiritual life. Indeed 
 the difference is only circumstantial, for the work is 
 substantially the same, and spiritual life is substan- 
 tially the same in all ; but then, in such circumstances 
 as the length of time, the particular external means, 
 the degree of previous terror, and of subsequent joy 
 and vitality, &c. God exercises a sovereign freedom, 
 and shews that he has a variety of ways by which to 
 accomplish his end; audit is no matter how we ob- 
 tain it, if we have but spiritual life. I shall therefore 
 endeavour to confine myself to the substance of this 
 work, without its peculiarities, in different subjects; 
 and, when I cannot avoid descending to particulars, 
 1 shall endeavour so to diversify them, as that they
 
 Serm. 5. cf spiritual Life. 153 
 
 may be easily adapted to the various cases of different 
 Christians, To draw their common lineaments, where- 
 by they may be distinguished from all others, is suf- 
 ficient to my present purpose ; whereas, to draw the 
 particular lineaments, or peculiar features, whereby 
 they may be distinguished from one another, is a very 
 difficult task, and cannot be of any great service to 
 what I have now ill design. 
 
 I have only one thing more to premise, and that 
 is, that the M r ay by which divine grace prepares a 
 sinner for spiritual life, is by working upon all the 
 principles of the rational life, and exciting him to 
 exert them to the utmost to obtain it. Here it is 
 proper for you to recollect what I observed in my 
 last discourse, that even a sinner dead in trespasses 
 and sins is alive, and capable of action in other re- 
 spects : he can not only perform the actions, and feel 
 the sensations of animal life, but he can also exercise 
 his intellectual powers about intellectual objects, and 
 even about divine things; he is capable of thinking 
 of these, and of receiving some impressions from 
 them : he is also capable ot attending upon the ordi- 
 nances of the gospel, and performing the external 
 duties of religion. These things a sinner may do, 
 and yet be dead in sin. Indeed he will not exercise 
 his natural powers about these things while left to 
 himself: he has the power, but then he has no dis- 
 position to employ it : he is indeed capable of medi- 
 tating upon spiritual things, but what docs this avail 
 when he will not turn his mind to such objects ? or 
 if he docs, he considers them as mere speculations, 
 and not as the most interesting and important reali- 
 ties. Mow i'tw, or how superficial and unaft'ecting 
 are a sinner's thoughts of them ! Heaven and hell 
 are objects that may strike the passions, arid raise the 
 joys and fears of a natural man, but in general he 
 is little or nothing impressed with them. He is ca- 
 pable of prayer, hearing, and using the means of 
 grace ; but I believe, if yon make observations upon 
 the conduct of mankind, that you will find they are 
 but seldom employed in these duties, or that they per- 
 form them in such a careless manner, that they have
 
 154 The Nature and Process Sebm. 5. 
 
 no tendency to answer the end of their institution. 
 In short, the more I know of mankind, I have the 
 lower opinion of what they will do in religion win 
 left to themselves. They have a natural power, and 
 we have seen all possible means used with them " 
 excite them to put it forth ; but alas ! all is in vain, 
 and nothing will be done to purpose till God stir them 
 up to exert their natural abilities : and this he performs 
 as a preparative for spiritual life. He brings the sin- 
 ner to exert all his active powers in seeking this divine 
 principle : nature does her utmost, and all outward 
 means are tried before a supernatural principle is im- 
 planted. 
 
 The evangelist John has given us the history of the 
 resurrection of the dead body of Lazarus after it had 
 been four days in tlic grave; and I would now give 
 you the history of a more glorious resurrection, the 
 resurrection of a soul that had lain dead for months 
 and years, and yet is at last quickened by the same 
 almighty power with a divine and immortal life. 
 
 Should I exemplify it by a particular instance, I 
 might fix upon this or that person in this assembly, 
 and remind you, and inform others, of the process of 
 this work in your souls. And O ! how happy are such 
 of you, that you may be produced as instances in 
 this case ! 
 
 You lay for ten, twenty, thirty years, or more, dead 
 in trespasses and sins ; you did not breathe and pant 
 like a living soul after God and holiness; you had 
 little more sense of the burden of sin than a corpse of 
 the pressure of a mountain ; you had no appetite for 
 the living bread that came down from heaven ; the 
 vital pulse of sacred passions did not beat in your 
 hearts towards God and divine things, but you lay 
 putrifying in sin ; filthy lusts preyed upon you like 
 worms on the bodies of the dead ; you spread the con- 
 tagion of sin around you by your conversation and 
 example, like the stench and corrupt effluvia of a rot- 
 ting carcass; you were odious and abominable to God, 
 lit to be shut up in the infernal pit out of his sight ; 
 and you were objects of horror and lamentation to all 
 that knew and duly considered your case, your deplora-
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life, 155 
 
 ble case. During this time many quickening applica- 
 tions were madV to you ; you had friends that used 
 all means to bring you to life again ; but alas ! all in 
 vain ; conscience proved your friend, and pierced and 
 chafed you, to bring you to some feeling, but you 
 remained still senseless, or the symptoms of life soon 
 vanished. God did not cast you away as irrevocove- 
 rably dead, but stirred and agitated you within, and 
 struggled long with the principles of death to subdue 
 them : and, if it was your happy lot to live under a 
 faithful ministry, the living oracles that contain the 
 seeds of the divine life were applied to you with care 
 and solicitude. The terrors of the Lord were thunder- 
 ed in your ears to awaken you. The experiment of a 
 Saviour's dying love, and the rich grace of the gospel, 
 were repeatedly tried upon you : now you were carried 
 within hearing of the heavenly music, and within sight 
 of the glories of Paradise, to try if these would charm 
 you; now you were, as it were, held over the flames 
 of hell, that they might by their pungent pains scorch 
 and startle you into life. Providence also concurred 
 with these applications, and tried to recover you by 
 mercies and judgments, sickness and health, losses and 
 possessions, disappointments and successes, threaten- 
 ings and deliverances. If it was your unhappy lot to 
 lie among dead souls like yourself, you had indeed but 
 little pity from them, nay, they anil Satan were ply- 
 ing you with their opiates and poison to confirm the 
 deadly sleep. And O ! how astonishing is it that you 
 should be quickened in a charnel-house, in the man- 
 sions of the dead, with dead souls lying all round you! 
 Hut if it was your happiness to be in the society of the 
 living, they pitied you, they stirred and agitated you 
 with their warnings and persuasions, they, like Martha 
 and Mary in behalf of their deceased brother, went 
 to Jesus with their cries and importunities, " Lord, 
 my child, my parent, my servant, my neighbour is 
 {lead, () come and restore him to life ! Lord, if thou 
 hadst been here, he would not have died; but even 
 now I know it. is not too late for thee to raise him." 
 Thus, when one is dead in our heavenly Father's family, 
 vhe whole house should be alarmed, and all the domes-
 
 156 The Nature and Process Serm. 5, 
 
 tics be busy in trying to bring him to life again. But 
 O ! reflect with shame and sorrow how long all these 
 quickening applications were in vain ; you still lay in 
 a dead sleep, or, if at times you seemed to move, and 
 gave us hopes you were coming to life again, you soon 
 relapsed, and grew as senseless as ever. And alas ! are 
 there not some of you in this condition to this very 
 moment ? O deplorable sight ! May the hour come, 
 and O that this may be the hour in which such dead 
 souls shall hear the voice of the Son of God and live. 
 John v. 25. 
 
 But as to such of you in whom I would exemplify 
 tliis history of a spiritual resurrection when your case 
 was thus deplorable, and seemingly helpless, the hap- 
 py hour, the time of love came, when you must live. 
 When all these applications had been unsuccessful, the 
 all-quickening spirit of God determined to exert more 
 of his energy, and work more effectually upon you. 
 Perhaps a verse in your Bible, a sentence in a sermon, 
 an alarming providence, the conversation of a pious 
 friend, or something that unexpectedly occurred to 
 your own thoughts, iirst struck your minds with un- 
 usual force; you found you could not harden your- 
 selves against it as you were wont to do, it was attend- 
 ed with a power you never before had felt, and which 
 you could not resist : this made you thoughtful and 
 pensive, and turned your minds to objects that you 
 were wont to neglect ; this made you stand and pause, 
 and think of the state of your neglected souls : you 
 began to fear matters were wrong with you ; u What 
 will ljccomc of me when I leave this world? Where 
 shall I reside for ever? Am I prepared for the eternal 
 world? How have I spent my life?" These, and the 
 like inquiries put you to a stand, and you could not 
 pass over them so superficially as you were wont to do; 
 your sins now appeared to you in a new light; you 
 were shocked and surprised at their malignant nature, 
 their number, their aggravations, and their dreadful 
 consequences. The great God, whom you were wont 
 to neglect, appeared to you as a Being that demanded 
 your regard; you saw he was indeed a venerable, awful, 
 majestic Being, with whom you had the most minor-
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life, 157 
 
 tant concern : in short, you saw that such a life as you 
 had led would never bring" you to heaven: you saw you 
 must make religion more your business than you had 
 ever done, and hereupon you altered your former course; 
 you broke oft' from several of your vices, you deserted 
 your extravagant company, and you began to frequent 
 the throne of grace, to study religion, and to attend 
 upon its institutions ; and this you did with some de- 
 gree of earnestness and solicitude. 
 
 When you were thus reformed, you began to flatter 
 yourselves that you had escaped out of your danger- 
 ous condition, and secured the divine favour ; now 
 you began to view yourselves with secret self-applause 
 as true Christians: but all this time the reformation 
 was only outward, and there was no new principle of 
 a divine supernatural life implanted in your hearts : 
 you had not the generous passions and sensations of 
 living souls towards God, but acted entirely from natu* 
 ral, selfish principles: you had no clear heart-affecting* 
 views of the intrinsic evil, and odious nature of sin, 
 considered in itself, nor of the entire universal cor- 
 ruption of your nature, and the necessity of not only 
 adorning your outer man by an external reformation, 
 but of an inward change of heart by the almighty 
 power of God: you were not deeply sensible of the 
 extent and spirituality of the divine law, nor of the 
 infinite purity and inexorable justice of the Deity : 
 you had no love for religion and virtue for their own 
 sakes, but only on account of their happy consequen- 
 ces. Indeed your love of novelty and a regard to 
 your own happiness might so work upon you, for a 
 time, that you might have very raised and delightful 
 passions in religious duties; but all your religion at 
 that time was a mere system of selfishness, and you 
 had no generous disinterested delight in holiness for its 
 own excellency, nor did you heartily relish the strict- 
 ness of pure, living religion: you were also under the 
 government of a self-righteous spirit : your own good 
 works were the ground of your hopes, and you had 
 no relish for the mortifying doctrine of salvation 
 through the mere mercy of God and the righteousness 
 of Jesus Christ: though your education taught you to
 
 158 The Nature and Process Serm. S, 
 
 acknowledge Christ as the only Saviour, and ascribe 
 all your hopes to his death, yet in reality he was of 
 very little importance in your religion; he had but 
 little place in your heart and affections, even when 
 you urged his name as your only plea at the throne of 
 grace: in short, you had not the spirit of the gospel, 
 nor any spiritual life within you. And this is all the 
 religion with which multitudes are contented: with 
 this they obtain a name that they live; but in the sight 
 of God, and in reality? they are dead; and had you 
 been suffered to rest here, according to your own desire, 
 you would have been dead still. 
 
 But God, who is rich (O how inconceivably rich'!) 
 in mercy, for the great love wherewith he loved you, 
 resolved to carry on his work with you ; and therefore, 
 while you were flattering yourselves, and elated with 
 a proud conceit of the happy change in your condition, 
 he surprised you with a very .different view of your 
 case; he opened your eyes farther, and then you saw, 
 you felt those things, of which, till then, you had 
 little sense or apprehension ; such as the corruption of 
 your hearts, the awful strictness of the divine law, 
 your utter inabdity to yield perfect obedience, and the 
 necessity of an inward change of the inclinations and 
 relishes of your soul. These, and a great many other 
 things of a like nature, broke in upon your minds with 
 striking evidence, and a kind of almighty energy; and 
 now you saw you were still " dead in sin," weak, in- 
 disposed, averse towards spiritual things, and " dead 
 in law," condemned to everlasting death and misery 
 by its righteous sentence: now you set about the 
 duties of religion with more earnestness than ever; now 
 you prayed, you heard, and used the other means of 
 grace as for your life, for you saw that your eternal 
 life was indeed at stake ; and now, when you put the 
 matter to a thorough trial, you were more sensible than 
 ever of your own weakness, and the difficulties in your 
 way. " O ! who would have thought my heart had 
 been so depraved that it should thus fly off from God, 
 and struggle and reluctate against returning to him?" 
 such was then your language. Alas! you found vour- 
 selves quite helpless, and all your efforts feeble and
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life. 15$ 
 
 ineffectual ; then you perceived yourselves really dead 
 in sin, and that you must continue so to all eternity, 
 unless quickened by a power infinitely superior to your 
 own : not that you lay slothful and inactive at this 
 time; no, never did you exert yourselves so vigorous- 
 ly in all your life, never did you besiege the throne 
 of grace with such earnest importunity, never did you 
 hear and read with such eager attention, or make such 
 a vigorous resistance against sin and temptation : all 
 your natural powers were exerted to the highest pitch, 
 for now you saw your case required it : but you found 
 all your most vigorous endeavours insufficient, and 
 you were sensible that, without the assistance of a 
 superior power, the work of religion could never be 
 effected. 
 
 Now you were reduced very low indeed. While 
 you imagined you could render yourselves safe by a 
 reformation in your own power, you were not much 
 alarmed at your condition, though you saw it bad. 
 But O ! to feel yourselves dead in sin, and that you 
 cannot help yourselves ; to see yourselves in a state 
 of condemnation, liable to execution every moment, 
 and yet to find all your own endeavours utterly in- 
 sufficient to relieve you ; to be obliged, after all you 
 had done, to lie at mercy, and confess that you were 
 as deserving of everlasting punishment as ever the 
 most notorious criminal was of the stroke of public 
 justice: this was a state of extreme dejection, terror, 
 and anxiety indeed. The proud self-confident creature 
 was never thoroughly mortified and humbled till now, 
 when he is slain by the law, and entirely cut off from 
 all hopes from himself. 
 
 And now, finding you could not save yourselves, 
 you began to cast about you, and look out for ano- 
 ther to save you: now you were more sensible than 
 ever of the absolute need of Jesus; and you cried and 
 reached after him, and stirred up yourselves to take 
 hold of him. The gospel brought the free offer of 
 him to your ears, and you would fain have accepted 
 of him; but here new difficulties arose. Alas! you 
 did not think yourselves good enough to accept of 
 lam, and hence you took a great deal of fruitless pains
 
 160 The Nature and Process Sj:rm. 5. 
 
 to make yourselves better; you also found your 
 hearts strangely averse to the gospel-method of salva- 
 tion, and, though a sense of your necessity made you 
 try to work up yourselves to an approbation of it, yet 
 you could not affectionately acquiesce, in it, and cor- 
 dially relish it. 
 
 And now, how melancholy was your situation ! you 
 were " shut up to the faith;" Gal. iii. 23. there was 
 no other possible way of escape, and yet, alas ! you 
 could not take this way : now you were ready to cry, 
 " I am cut off: my strength and my hope arc perished 
 from the Lord," but, blessed be God, he did not leave 
 you in this condition. Man's extremity of distress is 
 God's opportunity for relief and salvation ; and so you 
 found it. 
 
 Now the process of preparatory operations is just 
 come to a result. Now it is time for God to work, 
 for nature has done her utmost, and has been found 
 utterly insufficient ; now it is proper a divine super- 
 natural principle should be infused, for all the prin- 
 ciples of nature have failed, and the proud sinner is 
 obliged to own it, and stand still, and see the salvation 
 of God. In this situation you wanted nothing but 
 such a divine principle to make you living christians 
 indeed. These preparatives were like the taking 
 away the stone from the sepulchre of Lazarus, 
 which was a prelude of that almighty voice which 
 called him from the dead. Now you appear to me 
 like the dry bones in Ezekiel's vision, in one stage of 
 the operation. After there had been a noise, and a 
 shaking among them, and the bones had come to- 
 gether, bone to his bone ; / beheld, says he, and lo> 
 the sinews and the jiesh came up upon them, and the 
 skin covered them above ; but there teas no breath in 
 them; Ezek. xxxvii. 8. this was all that was wanting 
 to make them living men. In like manner you at 
 this time had the external appearance of christians, 
 but you had no divine supernatural life in you ; you 
 were but the fair carcasses of christians; your religion 
 had a body completely formed, but it had no soul 
 in it; and, had the holy spirit now given over his 
 work, vou would have continued dead still.
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life. \6\ 
 
 But now the important crisis is come, when he 
 who stood over the grave of Lazarus, and pronoun- 
 ced the life-restoring mandate, Lazarus, come forth ; 
 when he who breathed into Adam the breath of life, 
 and made him a living soul ; I say, now the crisis is 
 come, when he will implant the principles of life in 
 your souls; suddenly you feel the amazing change, 
 and find you are acting from principles entirely new 
 to you ; for now your hearts that were wont to re- 
 luctate, and start back from God, rise to him with 
 the strongest aspirations: now the way of salvation 
 through Christ, which you could never relish before, 
 appears all amiable and glorious, and captivates 
 your whole souls. Holiness has lovely and powerful 
 charms, which captivate you to the most willing 
 obedience, notwithstanding your former disgust to 
 it ; and, though once you were enamoured with sin, 
 or disliked it only because you could not indulge it 
 with impunity, it now appears to you a mere mass 
 of corruption and deformity, an abominable thing, 
 which you hate above all other things on earth or in 
 hell. At this juncture you were animated with a new 
 life in every faculty of your souls, and hereupon you 
 felt the instincts, the appetites, the sympathies and 
 antipathies of a new life, a divine life, justly stiled 
 hy the apostle, the life of God ; the life of God in 
 the soul of man. The pulse of sacred passions began 
 to beat towards spiritual objects ; the vital warmth 
 of love spread itself through your whole frame; you 
 breathed out your desires and prayers before God ; 
 like anew-bo.n infant you began to cry after him, and 
 at times you have learned to lisp his name with filial 
 endearment, and cry, . Abba, Father; you hungered 
 and thirsted after righteousness, and as every kind of . 
 life must have .its proper nourishment, so your spiri- 
 tual life fed upon Christ, the living bread, and the 
 sincere milk of his word. You also felt a new set of 
 sensations : divine things now made deep impressions 
 upon you; the great realities of religion and eternity 
 now atf'ceted you in a manner unknown before ; you 
 likewise found your souls actuated witli life and vigour 
 in the service uf God, .and in the duties you owed to 
 Vol. I. U
 
 16*2 The Nature and Process Serm. 3. 
 
 mankind. This strange alteration, no doubt, filled you 
 with surprise and amazement, something; like that of 
 Adam when he found himself start into life out of his 
 eternal non-existence. With these new sensations 
 every thing appeared to you in a quite different light, 
 and you could not but wonder that you had never per- 
 ceived them in that manner before. 
 
 Thus, my dear brethren, when you were even dead 
 in sin, God quickened you together with Christ. It is 
 true the principle of life might be very weak at first, 
 like the life of a new-born infant, or a foetus just 
 animated in the womb: nay, it may be but very weak 
 still, and at times may languish, and .seem just expir- 
 ing in the agonies of death'; but, blessed be the quick- 
 ening spirit of Christ, since the happy hour of your 
 resurrection you have never been, and you never will 
 be to all eternity, what you once were, " dead in tres- 
 passes and sins." Should I give you your own history 
 since that time, it would be to this purpose, and you 
 will discern many symptoms of life in it. You have 
 often known what sickness of soul is, as well as of 
 body; and sometimes it has risen to such a height as 
 to endanger your spiritual life. The seeds of sin, that 
 still lurk in your constitution, like the principles of 
 death, or a deadly poison circulating through your 
 veins, have often struggled for the mastery, and cast 
 you into languishing or violent disorders; then was the 
 divine life oppressed, and you could not freely draw 
 the breath of prayer and pious desires; you lost the 
 appetite for the word of God, and what you received 
 did not digest well and turn to kindly nourishment ; 
 the pulse of sacred passions beat faint and irregular, 
 the vital heat decayed, and you felt a death-like cold 
 creeping upon you and benumbing you. Sometimes 
 you have been afflicted, perhaps, with convulsions of 
 violent and outrageous passions, with the dropsy of 
 insatiable desires after things below, with the lethar- 
 gy of carnal security, or the fever of lust : at other 
 times you have felt an universal disorder through your 
 whole frame, and you hardly knew what ailed you, 
 only you were sure your souls were not well; but per- 
 haps your most common disorder that seizes you is a.
 
 Setim. 5. of spiritual Life. 16*3 
 
 kind of consumption, a lowness of spirits, a languor 
 and weakness, the want of appetite for your spiritual 
 food, or perhaps a nausea and disgust towards it ; you 
 also live in a country very unwholesome to living 
 souls; you dwell among the dead, and catch contagion 
 from the conversation of those around you, and this 
 heightens the disorder : add further, that old serpent 
 the devil labours to infect you with his deadly poi- 
 son, and increase the peccant humours by his tempta- 
 tions: at such times you can hardly feel any workings 
 of spiritual life in you, and 3*011 fear you are entirely 
 dead; but examine strictly, and you will discover 
 some vital symptoms even in this bad habit of soul ; 
 for does not your new nature exert itself to work off 
 the disorder ? Are not your spirits in a ferment, and 
 tio you not feel yourselves in exquisite pain, or at least 
 greatly uneasy ? Give all the world to a sick man, and 
 he despises it all: " O give me my health," says he, 
 <( or you give me nothing." So it is with you; no- 
 thing can content you while your souls are thus out of 
 order. Do you not long for their recovery, that you 
 may go about your business again ; I mean that you 
 may engage in the service of God with all the vigour 
 of health ? and do you not apply to Christ as your 
 only physician in this condition ? And O ! what an 
 healing balm is his blood ! what a reviving cordial is 
 his love ! and how kindly does his spirit purge off the 
 corrupt humours, and subdue the principles of sin and 
 death ! Has not experience taught you the meaning 
 of the apostle, when he says, Christ is our life : and / 
 live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me. Gal. ii. 20. 
 Do you not perceive that Christ is your vital head, 
 and that you revive or languish just as he communi- 
 cates or withholds his influence? And have you not 
 been taught in the same way what is the meaning of 
 that expression so often repeated, The just shall live by 
 by his faith ? Hab. ii. 4. Do you not find that faith 
 is, as it were, the grand artery by which you derive 
 life from Christ, and by which it is circulated through 
 your whole frame ; and that when faith languishes, 
 then you weaken, pine away, and perhaps fall into a 
 swoon, as though you were quite dead ? Are you not 
 
 MS!
 
 164 The Nature and Process Skrm. 5. 
 
 careful of the health of your souls? You endeavour 
 to keep them wane, with the love of God; you shun 
 those siekly regions as far as you can, where the ex- 
 ample and conversation of the wicked spread their 
 deadly infection, and you love to dwell among living 
 souls, and breathe in their wholesome air. Upon the 
 whole, it is evident, notwithstanding your frequent 
 indispositions, you have some life within you : life 
 takes occasion to shew itself, even from your disorders. 
 It is a plain symptom of it, that you have something 
 within you that makes such a vigorous resistance 
 against the principles of sin and death, and throws 
 your whole frame into a ferment, till it has wrought 
 off the distemper. In short, you have the sensations, 
 the sympathies and antipathies, the pleasures and pains 
 of living souls. 
 
 And is it so indeed? Then from this moment begin 
 to rejoice and bless the Lord, who raised you to spi- 
 ritual life. O let the hearts he has quickened beat 
 with his love ; let the lips he has opened, when quiver- 
 ing in death, speak his praise, and devote that life 
 to him which he has given you, and which he still 
 supports ! 
 
 Consider what a divine and noble kind of life he 
 lias given you. It is a capacity and aptitude for the 
 most exalted and divine services and enjoyments. 
 Now you have a relish for the Supreme Good as your 
 happiness, the only proper food for your immortal 
 souls, and he will not sutler you to hunger and thirst 
 in vain, but will satisfy the appetites he has implanted 
 in your nature. You have some spirit and life in his 
 service, and are not like the dead souls around you, 
 that are all alive towards other objects, but absolutely 
 dead towards him : you have also noble and exalted 
 sensations; you are capable of a set of pleasures of a 
 more refined and sublime nature than what are re- 
 lished by groveling sinners. From your inmost souls 
 you detest and nauseate whatever is mean, base, and 
 abominable, and you can feast on what is pure, amiable, 
 excellent, and worthy of your love. Your vitiated 
 taste for trash and poison is cured, and you feed upon 
 heavenly bread, upon food agreeable to the constitution
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life. 165 
 
 of your spiritual nature; and hence you may infer your 
 meetness for the heavenly world, that region of per- 
 fect vitality. You have a disposition for its enjoyments 
 and services, and this is the grand preparative. God 
 will not encumber the heaven of his glory with dead 
 souls, nor infect the pure salubrious air of Paradise with 
 the poison of their corruption ; but the everlasting doors 
 are always open for living souls, and not one of them 
 .shall ever be excluded ; nay, the life of heaven is already 
 within you; the life that reigns with immortal health 
 and vigour above, is the very same with that which 
 works in your breasts; only there it is arrived to matu- 
 rity and perfection, and here it is in its rudiments and 
 weakness. Your animal life, which was hardly perceiv- 
 able in the womb, was the very same with that which 
 now possesses you, only now it is come to perfection. 
 Thus you are now angels in embryo, the foetus (might I 
 be allowed the expression) of glorified immortals ; 
 and when you are born out of the womb of time into 
 the eternal world, this feeble spark of spiritual life will 
 kindle and blaze, and render you as active and vigorous 
 as " the rapt seraph that adores and burns." Then you 
 will feel no more weakness, no more languors, no more 
 qualms of indisposition ; the poison of temptation and 
 the contagion of bad example cannot reach you there ; 
 and the inward seeds of sickness and death will be purg- 
 ed entirely out of your souls ; you will be got quite out 
 of this sickly country, and breathe a pure reviving air, 
 the natural element of your souls. There you will rind 
 the fountain, yea whole rivers of the waters of life, of 
 which you will drink in large draughts for ever and 
 ever, and which will inspire you with immortal life and 
 vigour. O how happy are you in this single gift of 
 spiritual life! this is a life that cannot perish, even in 
 the ruins of the world. What though you must ere 
 long yield your mortal bodies and animal life to death 
 and rottenness? your most important life is immortal, 
 and subject to no such dissolution; and therefore be 
 courageous in the name of the Lord, and bid defiance to 
 ail the calamities of life, and all the terrors of death; for 
 your life is hid with Christ hi God; and when Christ 
 
 M '3
 
 \S6 TJic Nature and Process Serm. 5. 
 
 who is your life shall appear, then shall you also appear 
 with him in glory. Col. iii. 3, 4. 
 
 I would willingly go on in this strain, and leave the 
 pulpit with a relish of these delightful truths upon my 
 spirit ; but, alas ! I must turn my address to another 
 set of persons in this assembly ; but " where is the 
 Lord God of Elijah," who restored the Shunamite's son 
 to life by means of that prophet ? I am going to call 
 to the dead, and I know they will not hear, unless 
 he attend my feeble voice with his almighty power. 
 I would pray over you, like Elijah over the dead 
 child, O Lord God, let this sinner s life come into 
 him again. 1 Kings xvii. 21. Are not the living 
 and the dead promiscuously blended in this assem- 
 bly ? Here is a dead soul, there another, and there ano- 
 ther, all over the house; and here and there a few living 
 souls thinly scattered among them. Have you ever been 
 carried through such a preparatory process as I have 
 described ? or if you are uncertain about this, as some 
 may be who are animated with spiritual life, inquire, 
 have you the feelings, the appetites and aversions, the 
 pleasing and the painful sensations of living souls ? 
 Methinks conscience breaks its silence in some of you, 
 whether you will or not, and cries, " O no ; there is not 
 a spark of life in this breast." 
 
 Well, my poor deceased friends (for so I may 
 call you) I hope you will seriously attend to what I 
 am going seriously to say to you. I have no bad 
 design upon you, but only to restore you to life. And 
 though your case is really discouraging, yet I hope 
 it is not quite desperate. The principles of nature, 
 reason, self-love, joy, and fear are still alive in 3 r ou, 
 and you are capable of some application to divine 
 things. And, as I told you, it is upon the principles 
 of nature that God is wont to work, to prepare the 
 soul for the infusion of a supernatural life. And these 
 I would now work upon, in hopes you are not proof 
 against considerations of the greatest weight and 
 energy. I earnestly beg you would lay to heart such 
 things as these. 
 
 Can you content yourselves with an animal life, the 
 life of beasts, with that superfluity, reason, just to
 
 Serm. 5. of spiritual Life. 16? 
 
 render you a more ingenious and self-tormenting kind 
 of brutes ; more artful in gratifying your sordid appe- 
 tites, and yet still uneasy for want of an unknown 
 something ; a care that the brutal world, being desti- 
 tute of reason are unmolested with r O ! have you no 
 ambition to be animated with a divine immortal life, 
 the life of God? 
 
 Can you be contented with a mere temporal life, 
 when your souls must exist for ever? That infinite 
 world beyond the grave is replenished with nothing 
 but the terrors of death to you, if you are destitute 
 of spiritual life. And O can you bear the thought 
 of residing among its grim and ghastly terrors for 
 ever ? 
 
 Are you contented to be cut off from God, as a 
 mortified member from the body, and to be banished 
 for ever from all the joys of his presence ? You cannot 
 be admitted to heaven without spiritual life. Hell is 
 the sepulchre for dead souls, and thither you must be 
 sent, if you still continue dead. And does not this 
 thought affect you ? 
 
 Consider also, now is the only time in which you 
 can be restored to life. And O ! will you let it pass 
 by without improvement? 
 
 Shall all the means that have been used for your 
 revival be in vain? Or the strivings of the Spirit, 
 the alarms of your own consciences, the blessings and 
 chastisements of Providence, the persuasions, tears, 
 and lamentations of your living friends, O ! shall all 
 these be in vain? Can you bear the thought? Surely, 
 no. Therefore, O heave and struggle to burst the 
 chains of death. Cry mightily to God to quicken you. 
 Use all the means of vivification, and avoid every dead- 
 ly and contagious thing. 
 
 I know not, my brethren, how this thought will 
 affect us at parting to-day, that we have left behind 
 us many a dead soul. But suppose we should leave 
 as many bodies here behind us as there are of dead 
 souls among us; suppose every sinner destitute of spi- 
 ritual life should now be struck dead before us, C) how 
 would this floor be overlaid with dead corpses! How 
 t'cw of us would escape ? What bitter lamentations and
 
 168 The Nature and Process, c. Serm. 5. 
 
 tears would be among us ! One would lose a husband, or 
 a wife, another a child, or a parent, another a friend, or 
 a neighbour. And have we hearts to mourn and tears to 
 shed over such an event as this, and have we no com- 
 passion for dead souls ? Is there none to mourn over 
 them ? Sinners, if you will still continue dead, there 
 are some here to-day who part with you with this wish, 
 O that my head were waters, and mine eyes fountains of 
 tears, that I might weep day and night Jor the slain of 
 the daughter of my people. And O that our mournings 
 may reach the ears of the Lord of life, and that you 
 might be quickened from your death in trespasses and 
 sins ! Amen and Amen.
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 Poor and contrite Spirits the Objects of the 
 Divine Favour. 
 
 Isaiah lxvi. 2. 
 
 To this Man will I look ; even to him that is poor and of a 
 contrite Spirit, and trembleth at my Word. 
 
 AS we consist of animal bodies as well as immortal 
 souls, and are endowed with corporeal senses as 
 well as rational powers, God, who has wisely adapted 
 our religion to our make, requires bodily as well as 
 spiritual worship; and commands us not only to exer- 
 cise the inward powers of our minds in proper acts of 
 devotion, but also to express our inward devotion in 
 suitable external actions, and to attend upon him in 
 the sensible outward ordinances which he has appoint- 
 ed. Thus it is under the gospel; but it was more 
 remarkably so under the law, which, compared with 
 the pure and spiritual worship of the gospel, was a 
 system of carnal ordinances, and required a great deal 
 of external pomp and grandeur, and bodily services. 
 Thus a costly and magnificent structure was erected, 
 by divine direction, in the wilderness, called the taber- 
 nacle, because built in the form of a tent, and move- 
 able from place to place; and afterwards a most stately 
 temple was built by Solomon with immense cost, where 
 the divine worship should be statedly celebrated, and 
 where all the males of Israel should solemnly meet for 
 that purpose three times in the year. 
 
 These externals were not intended to exclude (he 
 internal worship of the Spirit, but to express and assist 
 it. And these ceremonials were not to be put into
 
 170 Poor and contrite Spirits Serm. 6. 
 
 the place of morals, but observed as helps to the prac- 
 tice of them, and to prefigure the great Messiah. 
 Even under the Mosaic dispensation, God had the 
 greatest regard to holiness of heart and a good life; 
 and the strictest observer of ceremonies could not be 
 accepted without them. 
 
 But it is natural to degenerate mankind to invert the 
 order of things, to place a part, the easiest and mean- 
 est part of religion, for the whole of it, to rest in the 
 externals of religion as sufficient, without regarding 
 the heart, and to depend upon a pharisaical strictness 
 in ceremonial observances, as an excuse or atonement 
 for neglecting the weightier matters of the law, judg- 
 ment, mercy, and faith. 
 
 This was the unhappy error of the Jews in Isaiah's 
 time; and this the Lord would correct in the first 
 verses of this chapter. 
 
 The Jews gloried in their having the house of God 
 among them, and were ever trusting in vain words, 
 saying, The temple of the Lord, the temple of the 
 Lord, the temple of the Lord are these. Jer. vii. 4. 
 They filled his altars with costly sacrifices; and in 
 these they trusted to make atonement for sin, and se- 
 cure the divine favour. 
 
 As to their sacrifices God lets them know, that while 
 they had no regard to their morals, but chose their 
 own ways, and their souls delighted in their abomina- 
 tions, while they presented them in a formal manner, 
 without the fire of divine love, their sacrifices were so 
 far from procuring his acceptance, that they were 
 odious to him. He abhors their most expensive offer- 
 ings as abominable and profane. He that killeth an 
 ox for sacrifice is as far from being accepted, as if he 
 unjustly slexv a man ; he that sacrijiceth a lamb, as if 
 he cut off a dog's neck, &c. Isaiah lxvi. 
 
 To remove this superstitious confidence in the tem- 
 ple, the Lord informs them that he had no need of it ; 
 that, large and magnificent as it was, it was not fit to 
 contain him; and that, in consecrating it to him, they 
 should not proudly think that they had given him any 
 thing to which he had no prior right. " Thus, saith 
 the Lord, the heaven is my throne, where I reign
 
 Sf.rm. 6. the Objects of Divine Favour. 171 
 
 conspicuous in the visible majesty and grandeur of a 
 God ; and though the earth is not adorned with such 
 illustrious displays of my immediate presence, though 
 it does not shine in all the glory of my royal palace on 
 high, yet it is a little province in my immense empire, 
 and subject to my authority ; it is my footstool. If, 
 then, heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool ; 
 if the whole creation is my kingdom, where is the 
 house that ye build unto me ? where is your temple 
 which appears so stately in your eyes ? it is vanished, 
 it is sunk into nothing. Is it able to contain that in- 
 finite Being to whom the whole earth is but a humble 
 footstool, and the vast heaven but a throne? Can you 
 vainly imagine that my presence can be confined to 
 you in the narrow bounds of a temple, when the heaven 
 and the heaven of heavens cannot contain me ? Where 
 is the place of my rest ? can you provide a place for 
 my repose, as though I were weary ? or can my pre- 
 sence be restrained to one place, incapable of acting 
 beyond the prescribed limits ? No; infinite space only 
 can equal my being and perfections ; infinite space 
 only is a sufficient sphere for my operations. 
 
 " Can you imagine you can bribe my favour, and 
 give me something I had no right to before, by all the 
 stately building you can rear to my name ? Is not 
 universal nature mine ? For all these things hath mine 
 hand made out of nothing, and all these things have 
 been, or still subsist by the support of my all-preserv- 
 ing hand, and what right can be more valid and in- 
 alienable than that founded upon creation ? Your silver 
 and gold are mine, and mine the cattle upon a thou- 
 sand hills ; and therefore of mine own do you give me, 
 saith the Lord." 
 
 These are such majestic strains of language as are 
 worthy a God. Thus it becomes him to advance him- 
 self above the whole creation, and to assert his absolute 
 property in and independency upon the universe. 
 
 Had he only turned to us the bright side of his 
 throne, that dazzles us with insufferable splendour; had 
 lie only displayed his Majesty unallayed with grace and 
 condescension in such language as this, it would have 
 overwhelmed us, and cast us into the most abject dc^~
 
 i72 Poor and contrite Spirits Serm. 6. 
 
 pondency, as the outcasts of his providence beneath 
 his notice. We might fear he would overlook us with 
 majestic disdain, or careless neglect, like the little 
 things that are called great by mortals, or as the busy 
 emmets of our species are apt to do. In the hurry of 
 business they are liable to neglect, and in the power of 
 pride and grandeur to overlook or disdain their depen- 
 dents. We should be ready in hopeless anxiety to say, 
 " Is all this earth which to us appears so vast, and 
 which is parcelled into a thousand mighty kingdoms, 
 as we call them, is it all but the humble footstool of 
 God? hardly worthy to bear his feet ? What then am 
 I? an atom of an atom-world, a trilling individual of 
 a trifling race. Can I expect he will take any notice 
 of such an insignificant thing as I? The vast affairs of 
 heaven and earth lie upon his hand, and he is employed 
 in the concerns of the wide universe, and can he find 
 leisure to concern himself with me, and my little inte- 
 rests? Will a king, deliberating upon the concerns of 
 nations, interest himself in favour of the worm that 
 crawls at his footstool? If the magnificent temple of 
 Solomon was unworthy of the divine inhabitant, will 
 he admit me into his presence, and give me audience? 
 how can I expect it? It seems daring and presump- 
 tuous to hope for such condescension. And shall I 
 then despair of the gracious regard of my Maker?" 
 
 No, desponding creature! mean and unworthy as 
 thou art, hear the voice of divine condescension, as 
 well as of Majesty: To this man xvill I look, even to 
 him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that 
 trembleth at my word. Though God dwelleth not in 
 temples made with hands, though he pours contempt 
 upon princes, and scorns them in all their haughty 
 glory and affected majesty, yet there are persons whom 
 his gracious eye will regard. The high and lofty One 
 that inhabiteth eternity, that dwelleth in the high and 
 holy place, he will look down through all the shining 
 
 ranks of angels upon whom? Not on the proud, 
 
 the haughty and presumptuous, but upon him that is 
 poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at his 
 word. To this man will lie look from the throne of 
 his majesty, however low, however mean he may be.
 
 Serm. 6. the Objects of Divine Favour. 1/3 
 
 This man is an object that can, as it were, attract his 
 eyes from all the glories of the heavenly world, so as 
 to regard a humble self-abasing worm. This man can 
 never be lost or overlooked among the multitude of 
 creatures, but the eyes of the Lord will discover him 
 in the greatest crowd, his eyes will graciously fix upon 
 this man, this particular man, though there were but 
 one such in the compass of the creation, or though he 
 were banished into the remotest corner of the universe, 
 like a diamond in a heap of rubbish, or at the bottom 
 of the ocean. 
 
 Do you hear this, you that are poor and contrite in 
 spirit, and that tremble at his word? ye that, above 
 all others, are most apt to fear you shall be disregarded 
 by him, because you, of all others, are most deeply 
 sensible how unworthy you are of his gracious notice: 
 God, the great, the glorious, the terrible God, looks 
 down upon you with eyes of love, and by so much the 
 more affectionately, by how much the lower you are in 
 your own esteem. Does not your heart spring within 
 you at the sound ? Are you not lost in pleasing wonder 
 and gratitude, and crying out, " Can it be? can it be? 
 is it indeed possible ? is it true ?" Yes, you have his 
 own word for it, and do not think it too good news to 
 be true, but believe, and rejoice, and give glory to his 
 name; and fear not what men or devils can do unto 
 you. 
 
 This, my brethren, is a matter of universal concern. 
 It is the interest of each of us to know whether we 
 are thus graciously regarded by that God on whom 
 our very being and all our happiness entirely depend. 
 And how shall we know this? In no other way than 
 by discovering whether we have the characters of that 
 happy man to whom he condescends to look. These 
 are not pompous and high characters, they are not 
 formed by earthly riches, learning, glory, and power: 
 But to this man xvill I look, saith the Lord; even to 
 him that is poor and of a contrite .spirit, and that 
 tre.mbleth at my word. Let us inquire into the import 
 gf each of the characters. 
 
 I. It is the poor man to him the Majesty of heaven 
 condescends to look.
 
 1 74 Poor and con trite Spirits S e r m 6\ 
 
 This does not principally refer to those that are poor 
 in this world: for, though it be very common that 
 " the poor of this world are chosen to be rich in faith, 
 and heirs of the kingdom," James ii. 5, yet this is not 
 an universal rule; for many, alas ! that are poor in this 
 world are not rich towards God, nor rich in good 
 works, and therefore shall famish thro' eternity in re- 
 mediless want and wretchedness. But the poor here 
 signifies such as Christ characterizes more fitlly by the 
 poor in spirit. Matt. v. 3. And this character implies 
 the following ingredients: 
 
 (1.) The poor man to whom Jehovah looks is deeply 
 sensible of his own insufficiency, and that nothing but 
 the enjoyment of God can make him happy. 
 
 The poor man feels that he is not formed self-suffi- 
 cient, but a dependent upon God. He is sensible of 
 the weakness and poverty of his nature, and that he 
 was not endowed with a sufficient stock of riches in 
 his creation to support him through the endless dura- 
 tion for which he is formed, or even for a single day. 
 The feeble vine docs not more closely adhere to the 
 elm than he to his God. He is not more sensible of 
 the insufficiency of his body to subsist without air, or 
 the productions of the earth, than of that of his soul 
 without his God, and the enjoyment of his love. -In 
 short, he is reduced into his proper place in the system 
 of the universe, low and mean in comparison with 
 superior beings of the angelic order, and especially in 
 comparison with the great parent and support of na- 
 ture. He feels himself to be, what he really is, a poor 
 impotent dependent creature, that can neither live, nor 
 move, nor exist without God. He is sensible that his 
 sufficiency is of God. 2 Cor. iii. 5. " and that all the 
 springs of his happiness are in him." 
 
 This sense of his dependence upon God is attended 
 with a sense of the inability of all earthly enjoyments 
 to make him happy, and fill the vast capacities of his 
 soul, which were formed for the enjoyment of an in- 
 finite good. He has a relish for the blessings of this 
 life, but it is attended with a sense of their insuf- 
 ficiency, and does not exclude a stronger relish for 
 the superior pleasures of religion. He is not a precise
 
 Serm. 6. the Objects of Divine Favour. 175 
 
 hermit, or a sour ascetic, on the one hand ; and, on 
 the other, he is not a lover of pleasure more than a 
 lover of God. 
 
 If he enjoys no great share of the comforts of this 
 life, he does not labour, nor so much as wish for 
 them as his supreme happiness : he is well assured 
 they can never answer this end in their greatest afflu- 
 ence. It is for God, it is for the living God, that 
 his soul most eagerly thirsts. In the greatest ex- 
 tremity he is sensible that the enjoyment of his love 
 is more necessary to his felicity than the possession of 
 earthly blessings; nay, he is sensible, that if he is mi- 
 serable in the absence of these, the principal cause is 
 the absence of his God. O ! if he were blest with the 
 perfect enjoyment of God, he could say with Habak- 
 kuk, Though the fig-tree should not blossom, and 
 there should be no fruit in the vine, though the labour 
 of the olive should fait, and the fields yield no meat ; 
 though the flock should be cut off from the fold, and 
 there be no herd in the stall ; though universal famine 
 should strip me of all my earthly blessings, yet I will 
 rejoice in the Lord, as my complete happiness ; / will 
 joy in the God of my salvation. Hab. iii. 17, 18. 
 
 If lie enjoys an affluence of earthly blessings, lie 
 still retains a seuse of his need of the enjoyment of 
 God. To be discontent and dissatisfied is the com- 
 mon fate of the rich as well as the poor; they are 
 still craving, craving an unknown something to com- 
 plete their bliss. The soul being formed for the 
 fruition of the Supreme Good, secretly languishes and 
 pines away in the midst of other enjoyments, without 
 knowing its cure. It is the enjoyment of God only 
 that can satisfy its unbounded desires ; but, alas, it has 
 no relish for him, no thirst after him; it is still cry- 
 ing, " More, more of the delights of the world ;" 
 like a man in a burning fever, that calls for cold 
 water, that will but inflame his disease, and occasion 
 a more painful return of thirst. But the poor in spirit 
 know where their cure lies. They do not ask with 
 uncertainty, Who will shew us any sort of good ? but 
 their petitions centre in this, as the grand constituent 
 of their happiness, Lord, lift thou up the light of thy
 
 )J6 Poor and contrite Spirit s Se km. 6. 
 
 countenance upon us; and this puts more gladness 
 iato their hearts than the abundance of corn and wine. 
 Psalm iv. 6", 7< This was the ianguage of the 
 Psalmist, There is none upon earth that I desire besides 
 thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; but thou art 
 the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. 
 Psalm lxxiii. 25, 26*. And as this disposition extends" 
 to all earthly things, so it does to all created enjoy- 
 ments whatsoever, even to those of the heavenly world;" 
 the poor man is sensihle that he could not be happy 
 even there without the enjoyment of his God. His 
 language is, whom have I in heaven but thee ? It is 
 beholding thy face in righteousness, and awaking intfiy 
 likeness, that alone can satisfy me. Psalm xvii. 15/ 
 
 (2.) This spiritual poverty implies deep humility and' 1 
 self-abasement. 
 
 The poor man on whom the God of heaven con- 
 descends to look, is mean in his own apprehensions ; 
 he accounts himself not a being of mighty import-, 
 ance. He has no high esteem of his own good qua- 
 lities, but is little in his own eyes. Pie is not apt to 
 give himself the preference to others, but is ready to 
 give way to them as his superiors. He has a gene- 
 rous sagacity to behold their good qualities, and a 
 commendable blindness towards their imperfections: 
 but he is not quick to discern his own excellencies, 
 nor sparing to his own frailties. 
 
 Instead of being dazzled with the splendor of his 
 own endowments or acquisitions, he is apt to overlook 
 them with a noble neglect, and is sensible of the weak- 
 ness and defects of his nature. 
 
 And as to his gracious qualities, they appear small, 
 exceeding small to him: when he considers how much 
 they fall short of what they should be, they as it were 
 vanish and shrink into nothing. How cold does his love 
 appear to him in its greatest fervour ! How feeble 
 his faith in its greatest confidence! How superficial his 
 repentance in its greatest depth ! How proud his 
 lowest humility ! And as for the good actions he has 
 performed, alas ! how few, how poorly done, how 
 short of his duty do they appear! After he has done 
 all, he counts himself an 'unprofitable savant. After
 
 Serm. 6. the Objects of Divine Favour. l~7 
 
 he has done all, he is more apt to adopt the language 
 of the publican than the pharisee, God be merciful to 
 vie a sinner. In his highest attainments he is not apt 
 to admire himself; so far is he from it, that it is much 
 more natural to him to fall into the opposite extreme, 
 and to account himself the least, yea, less than the 
 least of all other saints upon the face of the earth : 
 and if he contends for any preference, it is for the 
 lowest place in the list of christians. This disposition 
 was remarkably exemplified in St. Paul, who probably 
 had made greater advancements in holiness than any 
 saint that was ever received to heaven from this guilty 
 world. 
 
 He that is poor in spirit has also a humbling sense of 
 his own sinfulness. His memory is quick to recollect 
 his past sins, and he is very sharp-sighted to discover 
 the remaining corruptions of his heart, and the im- 
 perfections ot his best duties. He is not ingenious to 
 excuse them, but views them impartially in all their 
 deformity and aggravations. He sincerely doubts whe- 
 ther there be a saint upon earth so exceeding corrupt; 
 and, though he may be convinced that the Lord has 
 begun a work of grace in him, and consequently, that 
 he is in a better state than such as are under the pre- 
 vailing dominion of sin, yet he really questions whe- 
 ther there be such a depraved creature in the world as 
 he sees he has been. He is apt to count himself the 
 chief of sinners, and more indebted to free grace than 
 any of the sons of men. He is intimately acquainted 
 with himself; but he sees only the outside of others, 
 and hence he concludes himself so much worse than 
 others; hence he loathes himself in his own sight for 
 all his abominations. Ezek. xxxvi. 31. Self-abasement 
 is pleasing to him; his humility is not forced; he does 
 not think it a great thing for him to sink thus low. 
 He plainly sees himself to be a mean, sinful, exceed- 
 ing sinful creature, and therefore is sure that it is no 
 condescension, but the most reasonable thing in the 
 world for him to think meanly of himself, and to 
 humble and abase himself. It is unnatural for one that 
 esteems himself a being of great importance to stoop; 
 but it is easy, and appears no self-denial for a poor 
 Vol I. N
 
 178 Poor and contrite Spirits Serm. 6*. 
 
 mean creature to do so, who looks upon himself and 
 feels himself to be such. 
 
 Finally, the poor man is deeply sensible of his own 
 tinworthiness. He sees that in himself he deserves no 
 fav r our from God for all the good he has ever done, but 
 that he may after all justly reject him. He makes no 
 proud boasts of his good heart, or good life, but falls 
 in the dust before God, and casts all his dependence 
 upon his free grace : which leads me to observe, 
 
 (3.) That he who is poor in spirit is sensible of his 
 need of the influences of divine grace to sanctify him, 
 and enrich him with the graces of the spirit. 
 
 He is sensible of the want of holiness; this neces- 
 sarily flows from his sense of his corruption, and the 
 imperfection of all his graces. Holiness is the one 
 thing needful with him, which he desires and longs for 
 above all others ; and he is deeply sensible that he 
 cannot work it in his own heart by his own strength : 
 he feels that without Christ he can do nothing, and 
 that it is God who must work in him both to will 
 and to do. Hence, like a poor man that cannot sub- 
 sist upon his stock, he depends entirely upon the grace 
 of God to work all his works in him, and to enable 
 him to work out his salvation with fear and trembling. 
 
 (4.) He is deeply sensible of the absolute necessity 
 of the righteousness of Christ for his justification. 
 
 He does not think himself rich in good works to 
 bribe his judge, and procure acquittance, but, like a 
 poor criminal that, having nothing to purchase a par- 
 don, nothing to plead in his own defence, casts himself 
 upon the mercy of the court, he places his whole de- 
 pendence upon the free grace of God through Jesus 
 Christ. He pleads his righteousness only, and trusts 
 in it alone. The rich scorn to be obliged ; but the 
 poor, that cannot subsist of themselves, will cheerfully 
 receive. So the self-righteous will not submit to the 
 righteousness of God, but the poor in spirit will cheer- 
 fully receive it. 
 
 (5.) And lastly, the man that is poor in spirit is an. 
 importunate beggar at the throne of grace. 
 
 lie lives upon charity; he lives upon the bounties of 
 h^avin; and, as these are not to. be obtained without
 
 Serm. 6, the Objects of Divine Favour. 179 
 
 begging, he is frequently lifting up his cries to the 
 lather of all his mercies for them. He attends upon 
 the ordinances of God, as Bartimeus by the way side, 
 to ask the charity of passengers. Prayer is the natu- 
 ral language of spiritual poverty: The -poor, saith 
 Solomon, useth in treaties: Proy. xviii. 23* whereas 
 they that are rich in their own conceit can live without 
 prayer, or content themselves with the careless formal 
 performance of it. 
 
 This is the habitual character of that poor man to 
 whom the Majesty of heaven vouchsafes the looks of 
 his love. At times indeed he lias but little sense of 
 these things; but then he is uneasy, and he labours to 
 re-obtain it, and sometimes is actually blessed with, it. 
 
 And is there no such poor man or woman in this 
 assembly ? I hope there is. Where are ye poor crea-r 
 tures ? stand forth, and receive the blessing of your 
 Redeemer, Blessed are the poor in spirit, Sec. He who 
 has his throne in the height of heaven, and to whom 
 this vast earth is but a footstool, looks upon you with 
 eyes of love. This spiritual poverty is greater riches 
 than the treasures of the universe. Be not ashamed 
 therefore to own yourselves poor men, if such you are. 
 May God thus impoverish us all ! may he strip us of 
 all our imaginary grandeur and riches, and reduce us 
 to poor beggars at his door ! 
 
 But it is time to consider the other character of the 
 happy man upon whom the Lord of heaven will gra- 
 ciously look ; and that is, 
 
 II. Contrition of spirit. To this man will I loo/f, 
 that is of a contrite spirit. 
 
 The word contrite signifies one that is beaten or 
 bruised with hard blows, or an heavy burden. And it 
 belongs to the mourning penitent whose heart is broken 
 and wounded for sin. Sin is an intolerable burden 
 that crushes and bruises him, and he feels himself 
 pained and sore under it. His stony heart, which could 
 not be impressed, but rather repelled the blow, is taken 
 away; and now he has an heart of flesh, easily bruised 
 and wounded. His heart is not always hard and sense- 
 less, light and trifling; but it has tender sensations; 
 he. is easily susceptive of sorrow for sin, is humbled 
 
 K 2
 
 180 I* oor and contrite Spirits Serm 6. 
 
 under a sense of his imperfections, and is really pained 
 and distressed because he can serve his God no better, 
 but daily sins against him. This character may also 
 agree to the poor anxious soul that is broken with 
 cruel fears of its state. The stout-hearted can venture 
 their eternal all upon uncertainty, and indulge pleas- 
 ing hopes without anxiously examining their founda- 
 tion; but he that is of a contrite spirit is tenderly 
 sensible of the importance of the matter, and cannot 
 lie easy without some good evidence of safety. Such 
 shocking suppositions as these frequently startle him, 
 and pierce his very heart : '' What if I should be de- 
 ceived at last ? What if after all I should be banished 
 from that God in whom lies all my happiness," <fyc. 
 These are suppositions full of insupportable terror, 
 when they appear but barely possible ; and much more 
 when there seems to be reason for them. Such an 
 habitual pious jealousy as this, is a good symptom ; 
 and to your pleasing surprise, ye doubtful christians, 
 I may tell you that that Majesty, who you are afraid 
 disregards you, looks down upon you with pity. There- 
 fore lift up your eyes to him in wonder and joyful 
 confidence. You are not such neglected things as you 
 think. The M ajesty of heaven thinks it not beneath him 
 to look down through all the glorious orders or angels, 
 and through interposing worlds, down, down even 
 upon you in the depth of your self-abhorrence. Let us, 
 
 III. Consider the remaining character of the happy 
 man to whom the Lord will look : Him that tremblcth 
 at my 'word. 
 
 This character implies a tender sense of the great 
 things of the word, and an heart easily impressed with 
 them as the most important realities. This was re- 
 markably exemplified in tender-hearted Josiah. 2 Chron. 
 xxiv. 19, 20, c 27. To one that trembles at the divine 
 word, the threatenings of it do not appear vain ter- 
 rors, nor great swelling words of vanity, but the most 
 tremendous realities. Such an one cannot bear up 
 under them, but would tremble, and fall, and die 
 away, if not relieved by some happy promise of deli- 
 verance. He that trembles at the word of God is not 
 a stupid hearer or reader of it. It reaches and pierces
 
 Serm. 6. the Objects of Divine Favour. 18! 
 
 his heart as a sharp two-edged sword ; it carries power 
 along with it, and he feels that it is the word of God, 
 and not of man, even when it is spoken by feeble 
 mortals. Thus he not only trembles at the terror, but 
 at the authority of the word : which leads me to 
 observe farther, that he trembles with filial veneration 
 of the majesty of God speaking in his word. He 
 considers it as his voice who spake all things into 
 being, and whose glory is such, that a deep solemnity 
 must seize those that are admitted to hear him speak. 
 
 How opposite is this to the temper of multitudes 
 who regard the word of God no more than (with hor- 
 ror I express it) the word of a child or a fool. They 
 will have their own way, let him say what he will. 
 They persist in sin, in defiance of his threatenings. 
 They sit as careless and stupid under his word, as 
 though it were some old, dull, trifling story. It sel- 
 dom makes any impressions upon their stony hearts. 
 These are the the brave, undaunted men of the world, 
 who harden themselves against the fear of futurity. 
 But, unhappy creatures ! the God of heaven disdains 
 to give them a gracious look, while he fixes his eyes 
 upon the man that " is contrite, and that trembles at 
 his word." 
 
 And where is that happy man ? Where in this as- 
 sembly, where is the contrite spirit? Where the man 
 that trembleth at the word ? You are all ready to 
 catch at the character, but be not presumptuous 
 on the one hand, nor excessively timorous on the 
 other. Inquire whether this be your prevailing cha- 
 racter. If so, then claim it, and rejoice in it, though 
 you have it not in perfection. But if you have it not 
 prevailingly, do not seize it as your own. Though 
 you have been at times distressed with a sense of sin 
 and danger, and the word strikes a terror to your 
 hearts, yet, unless you are habitually of a tender and 
 contrite spirit, you are not to claim the character. 
 
 But let such of you as are poor and contrite in spirit 
 and that tremble at the word of the Lord, enter deeply 
 into the meaning of this expression, that the Lord 
 looks to you. He does not look on you as a careless 
 spectator, not concerning himself with you, or caring
 
 1 82 Poor and contrite Spirits Serm. 6. 
 
 what will become of you, but he looks upon you as a 
 father, a friend, a benefactor : his looks are efficacious 
 for your good. 
 
 He looks upon you with acceptance. He is pleased 
 with the sic;ht. He loves to see you labouring: towards 
 him. He looks- upon you as the objects of his ever- 
 lasting love, and purchased by the blood of his Son, 
 and he is well pleased with you for his righteousness 
 sake.- Hence his looking upon him tbat is poor, c. 
 is opposed to his hating the wicked and their sacrifices, 
 Ver. 3. And is he whom you have so grievously of- 
 fended, he whose wrath you fear above all other things, 
 is he indeed reconciled to you, and docs he delight in 
 you ? what cause of joy, and praise, and wonder is 
 here ? 
 
 Again, he looks to you so as to take particular no- 
 tice of you. He sees all the workings of your hearts 
 towards him. He sees and pities you in your honest, 
 though feeble conflicts with in-dwelling sin. He ob- 
 serves all your faithful though weak endeavours to serve 
 him. His eyes pierce your very hearts, and the least mo- 
 tion there cannot escape his notice. This indeed might 
 make you tremble, if he looked upon you with the eyes 
 of a judge, for O how many abominations must he see 
 in you ! But be of good cheer, he looks upon you 
 with the eyes of a friend, and with that love which 
 covers a multitude of sins. He looks upon you with 
 the eyes of compassion in all your calamities. He 
 looks upon you to see that you be not overborne and 
 crushed. David, who passed through as many hard- 
 ships and afflictions as any of you, could say from 
 happy experience, the eyes of the Lord are upon the 
 righteous, and his ears are open to their cry. Psal. 
 xxxiv. io. 
 
 Finally, he looks to you so as to look after you, as 
 we do after the sick and weak. He looks to you so 
 as to provide for you : and he will give you grace and 
 glory, and no good thing will he withhold from you. 
 Psalm lxxxiv. ] 1. 
 
 And are you not safe and happy under the inspection 
 of a father and a friend ? Let a little humble courage 
 then, animate you amid your many dejections, and
 
 Serm. 6 the Objects of Divine Favour 183 
 
 confide in that care of which you feel yourself to be sq 
 unworthy. 
 
 Here it may not be amiss to observe, what must 
 give you no small pleasure, that those very persons, 
 M'ho according to the estimate of men are the most 
 likely to be overlooked, are those whom God gra- 
 ciously regards. The persons themselves are apt to 
 cry, " Happy I, could I believe that the God of 
 heaven thus graciously regards me ; but, alas ! I feel 
 myself a poor unworthy creature; I am a trembling- 
 broken-hearted thing, beneath the notice of so great 
 a Majesty." And art thou so indeed? then I may 
 convert thy objection into an encouragement. Thou 
 art the very person upon whom God looks. His eyes 
 are running to and fro through the earth in quest of 
 such as thou art ; and he will find thee out among the 
 innumerable multitudes of mankind. Wert thou sur- 
 rounded with crowds of kings and nobles, his eyes 
 would pass by them all to fix upon thee. What a glo- 
 rious artifice, if I may so speak, is this to catch at and 
 convert the person's discouragement as a ground of cou- 
 rage; to make that the character of the favourites of 
 heaven, which they themselves look upon as marks of 
 his neglect of them ! " Alas !" says the poor man, "if 
 I was the object of divine notice, he would not suffer 
 me to continue thus poor and broken-hearted." But. 
 you may reason directly the reverse, he makes you 
 thus poor in spirit, sensible of your sinfulness and im- 
 perfections, because that he graciously regards you. 
 He will not suffer you to be puffed up with your ima- 
 ginary goodness, like the rest of the world, because he 
 loves you more than he loves them. 
 
 However unaccountable this procedure seems, there 
 is very good reason for it. The poor are the only 
 persons that would relish the enjoyment of God, aiul 
 prize his love : they alone are capable of the hap- 
 piness of heaven, which consists in the perfection of 
 holiness. 
 
 To conclude, Let us view the perfection and con- 
 descension of God as illustrated by this subject. 
 Consider, ye poor in spirit, who He is that stoops to 
 look upon such little things as you. It is he whose
 
 184 Poor and contrite Spirits Serm, 6. 
 
 throne is in the highest heaven, surrounded with my- 
 riads of angels and archangels ; it is He whose foot- 
 stool is the earth, who supports every creature upon it ; 
 it is He who is exalted above the blessing and praise of 
 all the celestial armies, and who cannot without conde- 
 scension behold the things that are done in heaven ; it 
 is He that looks down upon such poor worms as you. 
 And what a stoop is this ? 
 
 It is he that looks upon you in particular, who 
 looks after all the worlds he has made. He manages 
 all the affairs of the universe ; he takes care of every 
 individual in his vast family; he provides for all his 
 creatures, and yet he is at leisure to regard you. He 
 takes as particular notice of you as if you were his 
 only creatures. What perfection is this ! what an infi- 
 nite grasp of thought ! what unbounded power! and 
 what condescension too 1 Do but consider what a 
 small figure you make in the universe of beings. You 
 are not so much in comparison with the infinite multi- 
 tude of creatures in the compass of nature, as a grain 
 of sand to all the sands upon the sea-shore, or as a mote 
 to the vast globe of earth ; and yet he, that has the 
 care of the whole universe, takes particular notice of 
 you you who are but trifles, compared with your fel- 
 low-creatures; and who, if you were annihilated, would 
 hardly leave a blank in the creation. Consider this, 
 and wonder at the condescension of God ; consider 
 this, and acknowledge your own meanness ! you are 
 but nothing not only compared with God, but you are 
 as nothing in the system of creation. 
 
 I shall add but this one natural reflection : If it be 
 so great a happiness to have the great God for our 
 patron, then what is it to be out of his favour? to 
 be disregarded by him ? methinks an universal tre- 
 mour may seize this assembly at the very supposition. 
 And is there a creature in the universe in this wretch- 
 ed condition? Methinks all the creation besides must 
 pity him. Where is the wretched being to be found? 
 must we descend to hell to find him ? No, alas ! there 
 are many such on this earth; nay, I must come nearer 
 you still, there are many such probably in this assem- 
 bly ; all among you are such who are not poor and con-
 
 Serm. 6. the Objects of Divine Fawow\ 185 
 
 trite in spirit, and do not tremble at the word of the 
 Lord. And art not thou one of the miserable number, 
 O man? What! disregarded by the God that made 
 thee! not favoured with one look of love by the Author 
 of all happiness ! He looks on thee indeed, but it is 
 with eyes of indignation, marking thee out for ven- 
 geance ; and canst thou be easy in such a case ? wilt 
 thou not labour to impoverish thyself, and have thy 
 heart broken, that thou mayest become the object of 
 his gracious regard ?
 
 SEIRMON VII. 
 
 The Nature and Danger of making light of 
 Christ and Salvation. 
 
 Matt, xxii. 5. 
 But they made light of it. 
 
 THERE is not one of ns in this assembly that lias 
 heard any tiling, but what has heard of Christ 
 and salvation: there is not one of us but has had the 
 rich blessings of the gospel freely and repeatedly offer- 
 ed to us: there is not one of us but stands in the most 
 absolute need of these blessings, and must perish for 
 ever without them ; I wish I could add, there is not 
 one of us but has cheerfully accepted them according 
 to the offer of the gospel. But, alas ! such an assem- 
 bly is not to be expected on earth! Multitudes will 
 make light of Christ and the invitations of the gospel, 
 as the Jews did. 
 
 This parable represents the great God under the ma- 
 jestic idea of a king. 
 
 He is represented as making a marriage-feast for his 
 Son; that is, God in the gospel offers his Son Jesus 
 Christ as a Saviour to the guilty sons of men, and, upon 
 their acceptance of him, the most intimate, indearing 
 union, and the tenderest mutual affection take place 
 between Christ and them; which may very properly be 
 represented by the marriage relation. And God has 
 provided for them a rich variety of blessings, pardon, 
 holiness, and everlasting felicity, which may be signi- 
 iied by a royal nuptial feast, verse 2.
 
 S e bm. 7. Danger of making light of Christ. 1 87 
 
 These blessings were first offered to the Jews, who 
 were bidden to the wedding by Moses and the prophets, 
 whose great business it was to prepare them to receive 
 the Messiah, verse 3. 
 
 The servants that were sent to call them, after they 
 were thus bidden, were the apostles and seventy disci- 
 ples, whom Christ sent out to preach that the gospel- 
 kingdom was just at hand, verse 3. 
 
 When the Jews rejected this call, he sent forth other 
 servants, namely, the apostles after his ascension, who 
 were to be more urgent in their invitations, and to tell 
 them that, in consequence of Christ's death, all things 
 were now ready, verse 4. 
 
 It is seldom that invitations to a royal feast are re- 
 jected ; but, alas ! the Jews rejected the invitation of 
 the gospel, and would not accept of its important 
 blessings. They made light of Christ and his bless- 
 ings ; they were careless to them, and turned their 
 attention to other things. 
 
 These things were not peculiar to the Jews, but be- 
 long to us sinners of the Gentiles in these ends of the 
 earth. Christ is still proposed to us ; to the same 
 blessings we are invited; and I have the honour, my 
 dear brethren, of appearing among you as a servant of 
 the Heavenly King, sent out to urge you to embrace 
 the offer. 
 
 I doubt not but sundry of you have complied; and 
 you are enriched and made for ever. 
 
 But, alas ! must I not entertain a godly jealousy over 
 some of you ! have you not made light of Christ and 
 salvation, to which you have been invited for so many 
 years successively? 
 
 Your case is really lamentable, as I hope you will 
 see before I have done; and I most sincerely compas- 
 sionate you from my heart. I now rise up in this 
 solemn place with the design to address you with the 
 most awful seriousness, hnd the most compassionate 
 concern; and did you know how much your happiness 
 may depend upon it, and how anxious I am lest I 
 should fail in the attempt, I am sure you could not 
 but pray for me, and pity me. If ever you regarded 
 a man in the most serious temper and address, I beg
 
 !8fc The Nature and Danger of Serm. 7. 
 
 you would now regard what I am going to say to you. 
 
 You cannot receive any benefit from this, or indeed 
 any other subject, till you apply it to yourselves. And 
 therefore, in order to reform you of the sin of making 
 light of Christ and the gospel, I must first inquire 
 who are guilty of it. For this purpose let us consider, 
 
 What it is to make light of Christ and the invita- 
 tions of the gospel. 
 
 I can think of no plainer way to discover this, than 
 to enquire how we treat those things that we highly 
 esteem; and also, by way of contrast, how we treat 
 those things which we make light of; and hence we 
 may discover whether Christ and the gospel may be 
 ranked among the things we esteem, or those we dis- 
 regard. 
 
 I. Men are apt to remember and affectionately think 
 of the things that they highly esteem ; but as for 
 those which they disregard, they can easily forget 
 them, and live from day to day without a single 
 thought about them. 
 
 Now do you often affectionately remember the Lord 
 Jesus, and do your thoughts often go after him? do 
 they pay him early visits in the morning? do they 
 make frequent excursions to him through the day ? and 
 do you lie down with him in your hearts at night ? Is 
 not the contrary evident as to many of you ? Can 
 you not live from day to day thoughtless of Jesus, 
 and your everlasting salvation ? Recollect now, how 
 many affectionate thoughts have you had of these 
 things through the week past, or in this sacred morn- 
 ing. And can you indeed highly esteem those things 
 which you hardly ever think of? Follow your own 
 hearts, sirs ; observe which way they most naturally 
 and freely run, and then judge whether you make light 
 of the gospel or not. Alas ! we cannot persuade men 
 to one hour's serious consideration what they should 
 do for an interest in Christ ; we cannot persuade them 
 so much as to afford him only their thoughts, which 
 are such cheap things ; and yet they will not be con- 
 vinced that they make light of Christ. And here lies 
 the infatuation of sin ; it blinds and befools men, so 
 that they do not know what they think of, what they
 
 Sf.rm. 7. wiaking light of Christ. .- 189 
 
 love, or what they intend, much less do they know 
 the habitual bent of their souls. They often imagine 
 themselves free from those sins to which they are most 
 enslaved, and particularly they think themselves inno- 
 cent of the crime of making light of the gospel, when 
 this is the very crime that is likely to destroy them 
 for ever. 
 
 II. The things that men value, if of such a nature 
 as to admit of publication, will be the frequent sub- 
 jects of their discourse: the thoughts will command 
 the tongue, and furnish materials for conversation. 
 But those things that they forget and disregard they 
 will not talk of. 
 
 Do not they therefore make light of Christ and sal 
 vation, who have no delight in conversing about them, 
 and hardly ever mention the name of Christ but in a 
 trifling or profane manner? They do not like the 
 company where divine things are discoursed of, but 
 think it precise and troublesome. They had much 
 rather be entertained with humourous tales and idle 
 stories, or talk about the affairs of the world. They 
 are of' the zvortd, says St. John, therefore speak they of 
 the world, and the zvortd heareth them. 1 John iv. 5* 
 They are in their element in such conversation. Or 
 others may talk about religion ; but it is only about 
 the circumstances of it, as, " How such a man preached 
 it was was a very good, or a bad sermon, ^c." but 
 they care not to enter into the spirit and substance of 
 divine things; and if they speak of Christ and ex- 
 perimental religion, it is in an heartless, insipid man 
 ner. And do not such make light of the gospel? and 
 is not this the character of many of you? 
 
 III. Men make light of those things, if they are 
 of a practical nature which they only talk about, but 
 do not reduce to practice. 
 
 Christianity was intended not to furnish matter for 
 empty talkers, but to govern the heart and practice. 
 But are there not some that only employ their tongues 
 about it, especially when their spirits are raised with 
 liquor, and then a torrent of noisy religion breaks from 
 them. Watch their lives, and you will see little apr 
 pearance of Christianity there. And do not these evi-
 
 lgo The Nature and Danger of Serm. 7 
 
 dently make light of Christ, who make him the theme 
 of their drunken conversation, or who seem to think 
 that God sent his Son from heaven just to set the world 
 a talking about him ? There is nothing in nature that 
 seems to me more abominable than this. 
 
 IV. We take the utmost pains and labour to se- 
 cure the things we value, and cannot be easy while 
 our property in them is uncertain ; but those thing's that 
 we think lightly of we care but little whether they be 
 ours or not. 
 
 Therefore, have not such of you made light of 
 Christ and salvation, who have lived twenty or thirty 
 years uncertain whether you have an interest in them, 
 and yet have been easy end contented, and take no 
 method to be resolved ? Are all that hear me this 
 day determined in this important question, " What 
 shall become of me when I die?" Are you all certain 
 upon good grounds, and after a thorough trial, that 
 you shall be saved ? O that you were ! but, alas ! you 
 know you are not. And do you think you would bear 
 this uncertainty about it, if you did not make light of 
 salvation? No; you would carefully examine your- 
 selves ; you would diligently peruse the scriptures to 
 find out the marks of those that shall be saved ; you 
 would anxiously consult those that could direct you, 
 and particularly pious ministers, who would think it the 
 the greatest favour you could do them to devolve such 
 an oihee upon them. But now ministers may sit in their 
 studies for a whole year, and not ten persons perhaps in 
 five hundred agreeably intrude upon them on this most 
 important business. 
 
 O, sirs, if the gospel should pierce your hearts 
 indeed, you could not but cry out with the convict- 
 ed Jews, Men and brethren, what shall we do to be 
 saved ? Acts ii. 37. Paul, when awakened, cries out, 
 in a trembling; consternation, Lord! what wilt thou 
 have me to do ? But when shall M r e hear such questions 
 now-a days? 
 
 V. The things that men highly esteem, deeply and 
 tenderly affect them, and excite some motions in their 
 hearts ; but what they make light of, makes no impres- 
 sion upou them.
 
 Skkm. 7. making light of Christ 191 
 
 And if you did not make light of the gospel, what 
 workings would there be in your hearts about it ? what 
 solemn, tender, and vigorous passions would it raise 
 in you to hear such things about the world to come ! 
 what sorrows would burst from your hearts at the dis- 
 covery of your sins ! what fear and astonishment 
 would seize you at the consideration of your misery ! 
 what transports of joy and gratitude would you feel 
 at the glad tidings of salvation by the blood of Christ? 
 what strong efficacious purposes would be raised in you 
 at the discovery of your duty ! O what hearers should 
 we have, were it not for this one sin, the making light 
 of the gospel ! whereas now we are in danger of weary- 
 ing them, or preaching them asleep with our most 
 solemn discourses about this momentous affair. We 
 talk to them of Christ and salvation till they grow 
 quite tired of this dull old tale, and this foolishness of 
 preaching. Alas ! little would one think, from the air 
 of carelessness, levity, and inattention that appears 
 among them, that they were hearing such weighty 
 truths, or have any concern in them. 
 
 VI. Our estimate of things may be discovered by 
 the diligence and earnestness of our endeavours about 
 them. Those things which we highly value, we think 
 no pains too great to obtain ; but what we think lightly 
 of we use no endeavours about, or we use them in a 
 languid careless manner. 
 
 And do not they make light of Christ and salvation, 
 who do not exert themselves in earnest to obtain them, 
 and think a great deal of every little thing they do in 
 religion? they are still ready to cry out, " What need 
 of so much pains ? we hope to be saved without so 
 much trouble." And, tho' these may not be so honest 
 as to speak it out, it is plain from their temper and 
 practice, they grudge all the service they do for Christ, 
 as dbne to a master they do not love. They love and 
 esteem the world, and therefore for the world they will 
 labour and toil all day, and seem never to think they 
 can do too much : but for the God that made them, 
 for the Lord that bought them, and for their ever- 
 lasting salvation, they seem afraid of taking too much 
 pains. Let us preach to them as long as we will, we
 
 192 The Nature and Danger of Serm. 7. 
 
 cannot bring them in earnest to desire and pursue after 
 holiness. Follow them to their houses, and you will 
 hardly ever find them reading a chapter in their Bibles, 
 or calling upon God with their families, so much as 
 once a day. Follow them into their retirements, and 
 you will hear no penitent confessions of sin, no earnest 
 cries for mercy. They will not allow to God that 
 one day in seven which he has appropriated to his own 
 immediate service, but they will steal and prostitute 
 some even of those sacred hours for idleness, or worldly 
 conversation, or business. And many of them are so 
 malignant in wickedness, that they will reproach and 
 ridicule others that are not so made as themselves in 
 these respects. And is not Christ worth seeking ? Is 
 not eternal salvation worth so much trouble ? does not 
 that man make light of these things that thinks his 
 case or carnal pleasure of greater importance? Let 
 common sense judge. 
 
 VII. That which we highly value we think we can- 
 not buy too dear; and we are ready to part with every 
 thing that comes in competition with it. The merchant 
 that found one pearl of great price, sold all that he 
 had to purchase it. Matt. xiii. 40; but those things 
 that we make light of, we will not part with things of 
 value for them. 
 
 Now, when Christ and the blessings of the gospel 
 come in competition with the world and sinful plea- 
 sures, you may know which you most highly esteem, 
 by considering which you are most ready to part with. 
 You are called to part with every thing that is incon- 
 sistent with an interest in Christ, and yet many of you 
 will not do it. You are called but to give God his own, 
 to resign all to his will, to let go all those profits and 
 pleasures which you must either part with, or part with 
 Christ, and yet your hearts cling to these things, you 
 grasp them eagerly, and nothing can tear them from 
 you. You must have your pleasures, you must keep 
 your credit in the world,' you must look to your es- 
 tates, whatever becomes of Christ and salvation ; as 
 if you could live and die better without Christ than 
 without these things; or as if Christ could not make 
 you happy without them. And does not this bring
 
 SerM 71 making light of Christ. igs 
 
 the matter to an issue, and plainly shew that you make 
 light of Christ in comparison with these things? Christ 
 himself has assured you, over and over, that unless 
 you are willing to part with all for his sake, you can- 
 not be his disciples; and yet, while you have the 
 quite contrary disposition, you will pretend to be his 
 disciples; as if you knew better what it is that con- 
 stituted his disciples than he. 
 
 VIII. Those things which we highly value, we shall 
 be for helping our friends to obtain. 
 
 Do not those, then, make light of Christ who do 
 not take half so much pains to help their children to 
 ah interest in him, as to set them up in credit in the 
 world, and leave them large fortunes ? They supply 
 the outward wants of their families, but they take 
 little or no care about their everlasting salvation. 
 Alas ! sirs, the neglected, ignorant, and vicious chil- 
 dren and servants of such of you can witness against 
 you, that you make very light of Christ and salvation, 
 and their immortal souls. 
 
 IX. That which men highly esteem they will so di- 
 ligently pursue, that you may see their regard for it 
 in their endeavours after it, if it be a matter within 
 their reach. 
 
 You may therefore see that many make light of the 
 gospel by the little knowledge they have of it, after 
 all the means of instruction with which they have been 
 favoured. Alas! where is their improvement in holi- 
 ness ! how little do they know of their own hearts, of 
 God and Christ, and the world to come, and what they 
 must do to be saved! Ask them about these things, 
 and you will find them stupidly ignorant; and yet 
 they have so much conceited knowledge that they will 
 not acknowledge it; or if they do, they have no better 
 excuse than to say they are no scholars, or they have 
 a poor memory; as if it required extensive learning, 
 or a great genius to know the things that are necessary 
 to salvation. O ! if they had not made light of these 
 things; if they had bestowed but half the pains upon 
 them which they have taken to understand matters or 
 trade and worldly business, they would not be so 
 grossly ignorant as they are ! When men that can 
 
 Vol. I, U
 
 1S4 The Nature and Danger of Serm, 7. 
 
 learn the hardest trade in a few years, when men of 
 bright parts, and perhaps considerable learning, after 
 living so many years, are still novices in matters of 
 religion, and do not so much as know the terms of life 
 according to the gospel, is it not plain that they care but 
 little about these things, and that they make light of 
 the Son of God, and all his inestimable immortal bles- 
 sings ? 
 
 Thus I have offered you sufficient matter of con- 
 viction in this affair. And what is the result? does 
 not conscience smite some of you by this time, and 
 say, " I am the man that have made light of Christ 
 and his gospel?" If not, upon what evidence are 
 you acquitted ? Some of you, I doubt not, can say, 
 in the integrity of your hearts, " Alas ! I am too 
 careless about this important affair, but God knows 
 I am often deeply concerned about it ; God knows 
 that if ever I was in earnest about any thins: in all 
 my life, it has been about my everlasting state ; and 
 there is nothing in all the world that habitually lies 
 so near rny heart." But are there not some of you 
 whom conscience does not accuse of this crime of too 
 much carelessness about the gospel, not because you 
 are innocent, but because you make so very light 
 of it, that you will make no thorough search into 
 it? and does not this alone prove you guilty ? I beseech 
 such to consider the folly of your conduct. Do ) r ou 
 then think to excuse your crime, by being careless 
 whether you are guilty of it or not ? Can you avoid 
 the precipice by shutting your eyes ? If you discover 
 your sin now, it may be of unspeakable service., but 
 if you now shut your eyes you must see it hereafter, 
 when it will be too late; when your conviction will 
 be your punishment. I beseech you also to consider 
 the dreadful evil of your conduct in making light of a 
 Saviour. And here I shall offer such arguments to ex- 
 pose its aggravations, as I am sure cannot fail to con- 
 vince and astonish you, if you act like men of reason 
 and understanding. 
 
 I. Consider you make light of him who did not 
 make light of you, when you deserved his final neglect 
 of you. You were worthy of nothing but contempt
 
 Serm. 7. making light of Christ. igs 
 
 and abhorrence from him. As a man you ure but 
 a worm to God, and as a sinner you are viler than 
 a toad or a serpent. Yet Christ was so far from making 
 light of you, that he left his native heaven, became a 
 man of sorrows, and died in the most exquisite agonies, 
 that a way might be opened for the salvation of your 
 miserable soul : and can you make light of him after 
 all his regard to you ? What miracles of love and mercy 
 has he shewn towards you, and can you neglect him 
 after all ? Angels, who are less concerned in these 
 things than we, cannot but pry into them with delight- 
 ful wonder. 1 Peter i. 12. and shall sinners, who have 
 the most intimate personal concern in them, make light 
 of them? This is a crime more than devilish; for the 
 devils never had a Saviour offered to them, and con- 
 sequently never could despise him. And can you live 
 in a carelessness of Christ all your days, and yet feel 
 no remorse ? 
 
 II. Consider you make light of matters of the great- 
 est excellency and importance in the world. O sirs, 
 you know not what it is that you slight; had you 
 known these things you would not have ventured to 
 make light of them for ten thousand worlds. As 
 Christ said to the woman of Samaria, If thou hadst 
 known the gift of God, and rcho it is that speaketh to 
 thee, thou xvouldest have asked of him living water. 
 John iv. 10. Had the Jews known, they would not 
 have crucified the Lord of Glory. 1 Cor. ii. 8. So had 
 you known what Jesus is, you would not have made 
 light of him ; he would have been to you the most 
 important being in the universe. O had you been 
 but one day in heaven, and seen and felt the happi- 
 ness there ! or had you been one hour under the ago- 
 nies of hell, you could never more have trifled with 
 salvation. 
 
 Here I find my thoughts run so naturally into the 
 same channel with those of the excellent Mr. Baxter, 
 about a hundred years ago, that you will allow me 
 to give a long quotation from him, that you may see 
 in what light this great and good man viewed the 
 neglected tilings which the gospel brings to your 
 tars. His words are these; and 1 am sure to me they
 
 196 The Nature and Danger, of Serm. f 
 
 have been very weighty ; " O sirs, they are no trifles 
 or jesting matters that the gospel speaks of. I must 
 needs profess to you that when 1 have the most se- 
 rious thoughts of these things, I am ready to wonder 
 that such amazing matters do not overwhelm the 
 souls of men : that the greatness of the subject doth 
 not so overmatch our understandings and affections, 
 as even to drive men beside themselves, but that 
 God hath always somewhat allayed it by distance ; 
 much more do I wonder that men should be so 
 blockish as to make light of such things. O Lord, 
 that men did but know what everlasting glory and 
 everlasting torments are ! would they then hear us as 
 they do? would they read and think of these things 
 as they do? I profess 1 have been ready to wonder 
 when I have heard such weighty things delivered, how 
 people can forbear crying out in the congregation, 
 and much more do I wonder how they can rest, till 
 they have gone to their ministers and learned what 
 they shall do to be saved, that this great business 
 should be put out of doubt. O that heaven and hell 
 should work no more upon men ! O that eternity 
 should work no more ! O how can you forbear when 
 you are alone to think with yourselves what it is to be 
 everlastingly in joy or torment ! I wonder that such 
 thoughts do not break your sleep, and that they do 
 not crowd into your minds when yoii are about your 
 labour ! I wonder how you can almost do any thing 
 else ! How can you have any quietness in your 
 minds? how can you eat or drink, or rest, till you 
 have got some ground of everlasting consolations ? 
 Is that a man or a corpse that is not affected with 
 matters of this moment ? that can be readier to sleep 
 than to tremble, when he hears how he must stand at 
 the bar of God? Is that a man or a clod of clay that 
 can rise up and lie down without being deeply af- 
 fected with his everlasting state? that can follow his 
 worldly business, and make nothing of the great busi- 
 ness of salvation or damnation, and that when he 
 knows it is so hard at hand ? Truly, sirs, when I 
 think of the weight of the matter, I wonder at the 
 b'.st sa nts upon earth, that they are no better, and
 
 Serm. f. making light of Christ: 197 
 
 do no more in so weighty a case. I wonder at those 
 whom the world accounts more holy than needs, and 
 scorns for making so much ado, that they can put 
 off Christ and their souls with so little; that they do 
 not pour out their souls in every prayer ; that they 
 are not more taken up with God ; that their thoughts 
 are not more serious in preparation for their last ac- 
 count. I wonder that they arc not a thousand times 
 more strict in their lives, and more laborious and un- 
 wearied for the crown than they are. And for my- 
 self (says that zealous, flaming, and indefatigable 
 preacher) as I am ashamed of my dull and careless 
 heart, and of my slow and unprofitable course of life, 
 so the Lord knows I am ashamed of every sermon that 
 I preach: when I think what I am, and who sent me, 
 and how much the salvation and damnation of 
 men is concerned in it, I am ready to tremble, lest 
 God should judge me as a slighter of his truth and the 
 souls of men, and lest in my best sermon I should be 
 guilty of their blood. Methinks we should not speak a 
 word to men in matters of such consequence without 
 tears, or the greatest earnestness that possibly we 
 can. Were we not too much guilty of the sin which 
 we reprove, it would be so. Whether we are alone, 
 or in company, methinks our end, and such an end, 
 should still be in our mind, and as before our eyes; and 
 we should sooner forget an}'- thing, or set light by any 
 thing, or by all things, than by this." 
 
 And now, my brethren, if such a man as this 
 viewed these things in this light, O what shall we, 
 we languishing careless creatures, what shall we think 
 of ourselves? Into what a dead sleep are we fallen! 
 O let the most active and zealous among us awake, 
 and be a thousand times more earnest; and ye frozen- 
 hearted, careless sinners, for God's sake awake, and 
 exert yourselves to good purpose in the pursuit of sal- 
 vation, or you are lost to all eternity. 
 
 III. Consider whose salvation it is you make light 
 of. It is your own. And do you not care what be- 
 comes of your own selves? Is it nothing to you 
 whether you be saved or damned for ever ? Is the 
 natural principle of self-love extinct in you? Have 
 you no concern for your own preservation? Are you
 
 19$ The Nature and Danger of Serm. 7. 
 
 commenced your own enemies? If you slight Christ 
 and love sin, you virtually love death. Prov. viii. 36. 
 You may as well say, " I will live, and yet neither eat 
 nor drink," as say, " I will go to heaven, and yet 
 make light of Christ." And you may as well say this 
 in words as hy your practice. 
 
 IV. Consider your sin is aggravated by professing 
 to believe that gospel which you make light of. For 
 a professed infidel, that does not believe the scripture- 
 revelation concerning Christ, and a future state of 
 rewards and punishments, for such a one to be careless 
 about these things, would not be so strange; but for 
 you that make these things your creed, and a part of 
 your religion, for you that call yourselves christians, 
 and have been baptized into this faith : for you, I say, 
 to make light of them, how astonishing! how utterly 
 inexcusable! What! believe that you shall live for 
 ever in the most perfect happiness or exquisite misery, 
 and yet take no more pains to obtain the one, and 
 escape the other ? What ! believe that the great and 
 dreadful God will shortly be your judge, and yet make 
 no more preparation for it r Either say plainly, " I 
 am no christian, I do not believe these things;" or 
 else let your hearts be affected with your belief, and 
 let it influence and govern your lives. 
 
 V. Consider what those things are which engross 
 your affections, and which tempt you to neglect Christ 
 and your salvation. Have you found out a better 
 friend, or a more substantial and lasting happiness than 
 his salvation ? O ! what trifles and vanities, what 
 dreams and shadows are men pursuing, while they neg- 
 lect the important realities of the eternal world ! If 
 crowns and kingdoms, if all the riches, glories, and 
 pleasures of the world were insured to you as a reward 
 for making light of Christ, you would even then make 
 the most foolish bargain possible; for what are these 
 in the scale to eternal joy or eternal tempest? and what 
 shall it profit a man if he gain even the whole world, 
 and lose his own soul ? Matt. xvi. 26. But you can- 
 not hope for the ten thousandth part ; and will you 
 cast away your souls for this? You that think it such 
 fi ;>reut thing to live in riches, pleasures, and honours,
 
 Skrm. 7* making light of Christ. t)f 
 
 consider is it such a mighty happiness to die rich? to 
 die after a life of pleasure and honour? Will it be 
 such a great happiness to give an account for the life 
 of a rich sensualist, rather than of a poor mortified 
 creature? Will Dives then be so much happier than 
 Lazarus? Alas! what does the richest, the highest, 
 the most voluptuous sinner, what does he do, but lay 
 up treasures of wrath against the day of wrath ? O 
 how will the unhappy creatures torture themselves for 
 ever with the most cutting reflections for sellino; their 
 Saviour and their souls for such trifles ! Let your sins 
 and earthly enjoyments save you then, if they can ; 
 let them then do that for you which Christ would 
 have done for you if you had chosen him. Then go 
 and cry to the gods you have chosen: let them deliver 
 you in the day of your tribulation. 
 
 VI. Your making light of Christ and salvation is a 
 certain evidence that you have no interest in them. 
 Christ will not throw himself and his blessings away 
 upon those that do not value them. " Those that ho- 
 nour him he will honour ; but they that despise him 
 shall be lightly esteemed." 1 Sam. ii. 30. There is a 
 day coming, when you will feel you cannot do with- 
 out him; when you will feel yourselves perishing for 
 want of a Saviour ; and then you may go and look for 
 a Saviour where you will ; then you may shift for your- 
 selves as you can ; he will have nothing to do with 
 you : the Saviour of sinners will cast you oif for ever. 
 I tell you, sirs, whatever estimate you form of these 
 things, God thinks very highly of the blood of his 
 Son, and the blessings of his purchase; and if ever 
 you obtain them, he will have you think highly of 
 them too. If you continue to make light of them, all 
 the world cannot save you. And can you find fault 
 with God for denying you that which was so little in 
 your account. 
 
 VII. And lastly, the time is hastening when you 
 will not think so slightly of Christ and salvation. O, 
 sirs, when God shall commission death to tear your 
 guilty souls out of your bodies, when devils shall drag 
 you away to the place of torment, when you find 
 yourselves condemned to everlasting lire by that Savi- 
 
 0<2
 
 200 The Nature and Danger of Serm. 7. 
 
 our whom you now neglect, what would you then give 
 for a Saviour ? When divine justice brings in its heavy 
 charges against you, and you have nothing to answer, 
 how will you then cry, " O if I had chosen Jesus for 
 my Saviour, he would have answered all." When you 
 see that the world has deserted you, that your compa- 
 nions in sin have deceived themselves and you, and all 
 your merry days are over for ever, would you not then 
 give ten thousand worlds for Christ ? And will you 
 not now think him worthy of your esteem and earnest 
 pursuit? Why will ye judge of things now quite the 
 reverse of what you will do then, when you will be 
 more capable of judging rightly ? 
 
 And now, dear immortal souls ! I have discovered 
 the nature and danger of this common hut unsuspected 
 and unlamented sin, making light of Christ. I have 
 delivered my message, and now I must leave it with 
 you, imploring the blessing of God upon it. I cannot 
 follow you home to your houses to see what effect it 
 has upon you, or to make application of it to each of 
 you in particular ; but O may your consciences undertake 
 this office ! Whenever you spend another prayerless 
 thoughtless day, whenever you give yourselves up to 
 sinful pleasures, or an over-eager pursuit of the world, 
 may your conscience become your preacher, and sting 
 you with this expostulation : " Alas! is this the effect 
 of all I have heard? Do I still make light of Christ 
 and the concerns of religion ? O what will be the end 
 of such a conduct ?" 
 
 I cannot but fear after all, that some of you, as usual, 
 will continue careless and impenitent. Well, when 
 you are suffering the punishment of this sin in hell, 
 remember that you were warned, and acquit me from 
 being accessary to your ruin. And when we all appear 
 before the supreme Judge, and I am called to give an 
 account of my ministry; when I am asked, " Did you 
 warn these creatures of their danger? Did you lay 
 before them their guilt in making light of these things/' 
 you will allow me to answer, " Yes, Lord, I warned 
 them in the best manner I could, but they would not 
 believe me; they would not regard what I said, though 
 enforced by the authority of thy awful name, and con-
 
 Serm. 7. making light of Christ. 201 
 
 firmed by thine own word." O sirs, must I give in 
 this accusation against any of you ? No, rather have 
 mercy upon yourselves, and have mercy upon me, that 
 I may give an account of you with joy, and not with 
 grief.
 
 SEMMON VIII. 
 
 The Compassion of Christ to weak Be- 
 lievers. 
 
 Matt. xii. GO. 
 
 A hrnsied reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not 
 
 quench. 
 
 THE Lord Jesus possesses all those virtues in the 
 highest perfection, which render him infinitely 
 amiable and qualify him for the administration of a 
 just and gracious government oyer the world. The 
 virtues of mortals, when carried to a high degree, 
 very often run into those vices which have a kind of 
 affinity to them. " Right too rigid hardens into 
 wrong." Strict justice steels itself into excessive se- 
 verity; and the man is lost in the judge. Goodness 
 and mercy sometimes degenerate into softness and an 
 irrational compassion inconsistent with government. 
 I3ut in Jesus Christ these seemingly opposite virtues 
 center and harmonize in the highest perfection, with- 
 out running into extremes. Hence he is at once cha- 
 racterized as a Lamb, and as the Lion of the tribe of 
 J urlah: a Lamb for gentleness towards humble peni- 
 tents, and a Lion to tear his enemies in pieces. Christ, 
 is said to judge and make war. Rev. xix. 11. and yet 
 he is called The Prince of Peace. Isa. ix. 6. He will 
 at length shew himself terrible to the workers of ini- 
 quity; and the terrors of the Lord are a very proper 
 topic whence to persuade men ; but now he is patient 
 towards all men, and he is all love and tenderness to- 
 wards the meanest penitent. The meekness and gen- 
 tleness of Christ is to be the pleasing entertainment of 
 this day ; and I enter upon it with a particular view to 
 thpse mourning desponding souls among us, whose 
 weakness renders them in great need of strong conso-
 
 Serm. 8. Tfie Compassion of Christ, $c. 205 
 
 lation. To such in particular I address the words of 
 my text, A bruised reed shall he not break, and smok- 
 ing flax shall he not quench. 
 
 This is a part of the Redeemer's character, as deli- 
 neated near three thousand years ago by the evange- 
 lical prophet Isaiah, Isa. xlii. I \ ; and it is expressly 
 applied to him by St. Matthew : Behold, says the 
 Father, my servant whom I have chosen for the impor- 
 tant undertaking of saving the guilty sons of men ; 
 " my beloved, in whom my soul is well pleased:" my 
 very soul is well pleased with his faithful discharge of 
 the important office he has undertaken. I will put my 
 spirit upon him ; that is, I will completely furnish him 
 by the gifts of my spirit for his high character; and 
 he shall shew judgment to the Gentiles: to the poor 
 benighted Gentiles he shall shew the light of salvation; 
 by revealing the gospel to them; which, in the stile 
 of the Old Testament, may be called his judgments. 
 Or he will shew and execute the judgment of this 
 world by casting out its infernal prince, who had so 
 long exercised an extensive cruel tyranny over it. He 
 shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear 
 his voice in the streets ; that is, though he enters the 
 world as a mighty prince and conqueror to establish 
 a kingdom of righteousness, and overthrow the king- 
 dom of darkness, yet he will not introduce it with the 
 noisy terrors and thunders of war, but shall shew him- 
 self mild and gentle as the prince of peace. Or the 
 connection may lead us to understand these words in a 
 different sense, namely, He shall do nothing with cla- 
 morous ostentation, nor proclaim his wonderful works, 
 when it shall answer no valuable end. Accordingly 
 the verse of our text stands thus connected : Great 
 multitudes followed him ; and he healed them all, and 
 charged them that they should not make him knozvn. 
 That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah 
 the prophet, saying, He shall not cry, neither shall 
 any man hear his voice in the streets ; that is, he 
 shall not publish his miracles with noisy triumph in 
 the streets, and other public places. And when it is 
 said, He shall not strive, it may refer to his inoffen- 
 sive passive behaviour towards his enemies that were
 
 204- The Compassion of Christ Serm. 8. 
 
 plotting his death. For thus we may connect this 
 quotation from Isaiah with the preceding history in 
 the chapter of our text : Then the Pharisees went out i 
 and held a council against hi?n, how they might des- 
 troy him. But when Jesus knexv it, instead of praying 
 to his Father for a guard of angels, or employing his 
 own miraculous power to destroy them, he withdrew 
 himself from thence; that it might be fulfilled which 
 was spoken by the prophet Isaiah, saying, He shall 
 not strive. 
 
 The general meaning of my text seems to he con- 
 tained in this observation : " That the Lord Jesus has 
 the tenderest and most compassionate regard to the 
 feeblest penitent, however oppressed and desponding; 
 and that he will approve and cherish the least spark of 
 true love towards himself." 
 
 The bruised reed seems naturally to represent a soul 
 at once feeble in itself, and crushed with a burden; a 
 soul both weak and oppressed. The reed is a slender 
 frail vegetable in itself, and therefore a very proper 
 image to represent a soul that is feeble and weak. A 
 bruised reed is still more frail, hangs its head, and is 
 unable to stand without some prop. And what can be 
 a more lively emblem of a poor soul, not only weak 
 in itself, but bowed down and broken under a load of 
 sin and sorrow, that droops and sinks, and is unable 
 to stand without divine support. Strength may bear 
 up under a burden, or struggle with it, till it has 
 thrown it oft"; but oppressed weakness, frailty under 
 a burden, what can be more pitiable? and yet this is 
 the case of many a poor penitent. He is weak in 
 himself, and in the mean time crushed under an heavy 
 weight of guilt and distress. 
 
 And what would become of such a frail oppressed 
 creature, if, instead of raising him up and supporting 
 him, Jesus should tread and crush him under the foot 
 of his indignation? But though a reed, especially a 
 bruised reed, is an insignificant thing, of little or no 
 use, yet " a bruised reed he will not break, 11 but he 
 raises it up with a gentle hand, and enables it to stand, 
 though weak in itself, and easily crushed in ruin.
 
 Serm. 8. to weak Believers. 205 
 
 Perhaps the imagery, when drawn at length, may be 
 this: " The Lord Jesus is an almighty conqueror, 
 marches in state through our world ; and here and 
 there a bruised reed lies in his way. But instead of 
 disregarding it, or trampling it under foot, he takes 
 care not to break it : he raises up the drooping straw, 
 trifling as it is, and supports it with his gentle hand." 
 Thus, poor broken hearted penitents, thus he takes 
 care of you, and supports you, worthless and trifling as 
 you are. Though you seem to lie in the way of his 
 justice, and it might tread you with its heavy foot, yet 
 he not only does not crush you but takes you up, and 
 inspires you with strength to bear your burden, and 
 flourish again. 
 
 Or perhaps the imagery may be derived from the 
 practice of the ancient shepherds, who were wont to 
 amuse themselves with the music of a pipe of reed, or 
 straw ; and when it was bruised they broke it, or threw 
 it away as useless. But the bruised reed shall not be 
 broken by this divine Shepherd of souls. The music 
 of broken sighs and groans is indeed all that the broken 
 reed can afford him : the notes are but low, melan- 
 choly, and jarring : and yet he will not break the in- 
 strument, but he will repair and tune it, till it is fit to 
 join in the concert of angels on high ; and even now 
 its humble strains are pleasing to his ears. Surely 
 every broken heart among us must revive, while con- 
 templating this tender and moving imagery ! 
 
 The other emblem is equally significant and affect- 
 ing. The smoking fiax shall he not quench. It seems 
 to be an allusion to the wick of a candle or lamp, the 
 flame of which is put out, but it still smokes, and re- 
 tains a little fire, which may again be blown into a 
 flame, or rekindled by the application of more fire. 
 Many such dying snuffs or smoking wicks are to be 
 found in the candlesticks of the churches, and in the 
 lamps of the sanctuary. The flame of divine love is 
 just expiring, it is sunk into the socket of a corrupt 
 heart, and produces no clear steady blaze, but only a 
 smoke that is disagreeable, although it shews that a 
 spark of the sacred fire still remains; or it produces a 
 faint quivering flame that dies away, then catches and
 
 06* The Compassion of Christ Serm. 8. 
 
 revives, and seems unwilling to be quenched entirely. 
 The devil and the world raise many storms of tempta- 
 tion to blow it out ; and a corrupt heart, like a foun- 
 tain, pours out water to quench it. But even this 
 smoking flax, this dying snuff, Jesus will not quench, 
 but he blows it up into a flame, and pours in the oil 
 of his grace to recruit and nourish it. He walks among 
 the golden candlesticks, and trims the lamps of his 
 sanctuary. Where he finds empty vessels without oil 
 or a spark of heavenly fire, like those of the foolish 
 virgins, he breaks the vessels, or throws them out of 
 his house. But where he finds the least spark of true 
 grace, where he discovers but the glimpse of sincere 
 love to him, where he sees the principle of true piety, 
 which, though just expiring, yet renders the heart 
 susceptive of divine love, as a candle just put out is 
 easily rekindled, there he will strengthen the things 
 which remain, and are ready to die : he will blow up 
 the dying snuff to a lively flame, and cause it to shine 
 brighter and brighter to the perfect day. Where there 
 is the least principle of true holiness he will cherish it. 
 He will furnish the expiring lamp with fresh supplies 
 of the oil of grace, and of heavenly fire ; and all the 
 storms that beat upon it shall not be able to put it out, 
 because sheltered by his hand. 
 
 I hope, my dear brethren, some of you begin already 
 to feel the pleasing energy of this text. Are you not 
 ready to say, " Blessed Jesus! is this thy true charac- 
 ter ? Then thou art just such a Saviour as I want, 
 and I most willingly give up myself to thee." You 
 are sensible you are at best but a bruised reed, a feeble, 
 shattered, useless thing; an untuneable, broken pipe of 
 straw, that can make no proper music for the entertain- 
 ment of your divine shepherd. Your heart is at best 
 but smoking flax, where the love of God often appears 
 like a dying snuff; or an expiring flame that quivers 
 and catches, and hovers over the lamp, just ready to 
 go out. Such some of you probably feel yourselves to 
 be. Well, and what think ye of Christ ? " He will 
 not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking 
 flax ;" and therefore, may not even your guilty eyes 
 look to this gentle Saviour with encouraging hope?
 
 Serm. 8. to weak Believers. 207 
 
 May you not Say of him, with the sweet singer of 
 Israel, in his last moments, He is all my salvation, and 
 alt my desire. 2 Sam. xxiii. 5. 
 
 In prosecuting this subject I intend to illustrate the 
 character of a weak believer, as represented in my text, 
 and then to illustrate the care and compassion of Jesus 
 Christ even for such a poor weakling. 
 
 I. I am to illustrate the character of a weak believer 
 as represented in my text by " a bruised reed, and 
 smoking flax." 
 
 The metaphor of a bruised reed, as I observed, seems 
 most naturally to convey the idea of a state of weak- 
 ness and oppression. And therefore in illustrating it 
 I am naturally led to describe the various weaknesses 
 which a believer sometimes painfully feels, and to 
 point out the heavy burdens which he sometimes 
 groans under ; I say, sometimes, for at other times 
 even the weak believer finds himself strong, strong in 
 the Lord, and iti the power of his might, and strength- 
 ened with might by the Spirit in the inner man. The 
 joy of the Lord is his strength; and he " can do all 
 things through Christ strengthening him." Even the 
 oppressed believer at times feels himself delivered from 
 his burden, and he can lift up his drooping head, and 
 walk upright. But, alas ! the burden returns, and 
 crushes him again. And under some burden or other 
 many honest-hearted believers groan out the most part 
 of their lives. 
 
 Let us now see what are those weaknesses which a 
 believer feels and laments. He finds himself weak in 
 knowledge; a simple child in the knowledge of God 
 and divine tilings. He is weak in love; the sacred 
 flame does not rise with a perpetual fervor, and diffuse 
 itself through all his devotions, but at times it lan- 
 guishes and dies away into a smoking snuff. He is 
 weak in faith ; he cannot keep a strung hold of the 
 Almighty, cannot suspend his all upon his promises 
 with cheerful conlidencc, nor build a linn immoveable 
 fabric of hope upon the rock Jesus Christ. He is 
 weak in hope; his hope is dashed with rising billows 
 of fears and jealousies, and sometimes just overset. He 
 is weak in joy; he cannot extract the sweets of chris-
 
 208 The Compassion of Christ Serm. 8. 
 
 tianity, nor taste the comforts of his religion. He is weak 
 in zeal for God and the interestof his kingdom; he would 
 wish himself always a flaming seraph, always glowing 
 with zeal, always unwearied in serving his God, and pro- 
 moting the designs of redeeming love in the world ; but, 
 alas ! at times his zeal, with his love, languishes and dies 
 away into a smoking snuff. He is weak in repentance ; 
 troubled with that plague of plagues, an hard heart. 
 He is weak in the conflict with in-dwelling sin, that is 
 perpetually making insurrections within him. He is 
 weak in resisting temptations ; which crowd upon him 
 from without, and are often likely to overwhelm him. 
 He is weak in courage to encounter the king of terrors, 
 and venture through the valley of the shadow of death. 
 He is weak in prayer, in importunity, in filial boldness 
 in approaching the mercy-seat. He is weak in abilities 
 to endeavour the conversion of sinners, and save souls 
 from death. In short, he is weak in every thing in 
 which he should be strong. He has indeed, like the 
 church of Philadelphia, a little strength ; Rev. iii. 8. 
 and at times he feels it ; but O ! it seems to him much 
 too little for the work he has to do. These weaknesses 
 or defects the believer feels, painfully and tenderly 
 feels, and bitterly laments. A sense of them keeps 
 him upon his guard against temptations: he is not 
 venturesome in rushing into the combat. He would 
 not parley with temptation, but would keep out of its 
 way ; nor would he run the risk of a defeat by an 
 ostentatious experiment of his strength. This sense 
 of weakness also keeps him dependent upon divine 
 strength. He clings to that support given to St. Paul 
 in an hour of hard conflict, My grace is sufficient for 
 thee ; for my strength is made perfect in weakness ; 
 and when a sense of his weakness has this happy effect 
 upon him, then with St. Paul he has reason to say, 
 When I am weak, then am I strong. 2 Cor. xii. y, 10. 
 I say the believer feels and laments these weaknesses; 
 and this is the grand distinction in this case between 
 him and the rest of the world. They are weak, too ; 
 much weaker than he ; nay, they, have, properly, no 
 spiritual strength at all; but, alas! they do not feel 
 their weakness, but the poor vain creatures boast c4*
 
 Serm. 8. to weak Believers. 09 
 
 their strength, and think they can do great things 
 when they are disposed for them. Or if their. -repeated 
 falls and defeats by temptation extort from them a 
 confession of their weakness, they plead it rather as an 
 excuse, than lament it as at once a crime and a cala- 
 mity. .But the poor believer tries no such artifice to 
 extenuate his guilt. He is sensible that even his weak- 
 ness itself has guilt in it, and therefore laments it with 
 ingenuous sorrows among his other sins. 
 
 Now, have I not delineated the very character of 
 some of you? such weaklings, such frail reeds you 
 feel yourselves to be. Well, hear this kind assurance, 
 " Jesus will not break such a feeble reed, but he will 
 support and strengthen it," 
 
 But you perhaps not only feel you are weak, but 
 you are oppressed with some heavy burden or other. 
 You are not only a reed for weakness, but you are 
 a buised reed, trodden under foot, crushed under a 
 load. Even this is no unusual or discouraging case; 
 for, 
 
 The weak believer often feels himself crushed un- 
 der some heavy burden* The frail reed is often 
 bruised; bruised under a due sense of guilt. Guilt 
 lies heavy at times upon his conscience, and he can- 
 not throw it off. Bruised with a sense of remaining 
 sin, which he finds still strong within him, and which 
 at times prevails, and treads him under foot. Brui- 
 sed under a burden of wants, the want of tender- 
 ness of heart, of ardent love to God and mankind, 
 the want of heavenly-mindedncss and victory over 
 the world; the want of conduct and resolution to 
 direct his behaviour in a passage so intricate and 
 difficult, and the want of neater intercourse with the 
 lather of his spirit: in short, a thousand pressing 
 wants crush and bruise him. He also feels his share 
 of the calamities of life in common with other men. 
 But these burdens I shall take no farther notice of, 
 because they are not peculiar to him as a believer, 
 nor do they lie heaviest upon his heart. He could 
 easily bear up under all the calamities of life if his 
 spiritual wants were supplied, and the burden of 
 guilt and sin were removed. Under these last he 
 
 Vol. I. P
 
 210 The Compassion of Glmst Serm. S. 
 
 groans and sinks. Indeed these burdens lie with all 
 their full weight upon the world around him; but 
 they are dead in trespasses and sins, and feel them 
 not ; they do not groan under them, nor labour for 
 deliverance from them. They lie contented under 
 them, with more stupidity than beasts of burden, till 
 they sink under the intolerable load into the depth 
 of misery. But the poor believer is not so stupid, 
 and his tender heart feels the burden, and groans 
 under it. We that arc in this tabernacle, says St. Paul, 
 do groan, being burdened. 2. Cor. v. 4. The believer 
 understands feelingly that pathetic exclamation, O 
 wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from 
 the body of this death ? Iiom. vii. 24. Pie cannot be 
 easy till his conscience is appeased by a well-attest- 
 ed pardon through the blood of Christ; and the 
 sins he feels working within him are a real burden 
 and uneasiness to him, though they should never 
 'break out into action, and publicly dishonour his holy 
 profession. 
 
 And is not this the very character of some poor 
 oppressed creatures among you ? I hope it is. You may 
 look upon your case to be very discouraging, but Jesus 
 looks upon it in a more favourable light : he looks 
 upon you as proper objects of his compassionate cave- 
 Bruised as you are, he will bind you up, and support 
 you. 
 
 II. But I proceed to take a view of the character 
 of a weak christian, as represented in the other me- 
 taphor in my text, namely, smoakingjlax. The idea 
 most naturally conveyed by this metaphor is, that 
 of grace true and sincere, but languishing and just 
 expiring, like a candle just blown out, which still 
 smokes and retains a feeble spark of fire. It signifies a 
 susceptibility of a farther grace, or a readiness to catch 
 that sacred lire, as a candle just put out is easily rekin- 
 dled. This metaphor therefore leads me to describe the 
 reality of religion in a low degree, or to delineate the 
 true christian in his most languishing hours. And in 
 so doing I shall mention those dispositions and exer- 
 cises which the weakest christian feels, even in these 
 melancholy seasons: for even in these he widely differs
 
 Serm. 8. id weak Believers. 211 
 
 still from the most polished hypocrite in his highest 
 improvements. On this subject let me solicit your 
 most serious attention; for, it you have the least spark 
 of real religion within you, you are now likely to dis- 
 cover it, as I am not going to rise to the high attain- 
 ments of christians of the first rank, but to stoop to 
 the character of the meanest. Now the peculiar dis- 
 positions and exercises of heart which such in some 
 measure feel, you may discover from the following 
 short history of their case. 
 
 The weak christian in such lanjniishinsr hours does 
 
 O O 
 
 indeed sometimes fall into such a state of carelessness 
 and insensibility, that he has very few and but super- 
 ficial exercises of mind about divine things. But ge- 
 nerally he feels an uneasiness, an emptiness, an anxiety 
 within, under which he droops and pines away, and 
 all the world cannot heal the disease. He has chosen 
 the blessed God as his supreme happiness ; and, when 
 he cannot derive happiness from that source, all the 
 sweets of created enjoyments become insipid to him, 
 and cannot fill up the prodigious void which the ab- 
 sence of the supreme good leaves in his craving soul. 
 Sometimes his anxiety is indistinct and confused, 
 and he hardly knows what ails him; but at other 
 times he feels it is for God, the living God, that his 
 soul pants. The evaporations of this smoaking flax 
 naturally ascend towards heaven. He knows that he 
 never can be happy till he can enjoy the communica- 
 tions of divine love. Let him turn which way he will, 
 he can find no solid ease, no rest, till he comes to this 
 center again. 
 
 Even at such times he cannot be thoroughly re- 
 conciled to his sins. He may be parleying with some 
 of them in an unguarded hour, and seem to be 
 ncgociating a peace ; but the truce is soon ended, 
 and they are at variance again. The enmity of a re- 
 newed heart soon rises against this old enemy. And 
 there is this circumstance remarkable in the believer's 
 hatred and opposition to sin, that they do not pro- 
 ceed principally, much less entirely, from a fear of 
 punishment, but from a generous sense of its intrinsic 
 baseness and ingratitude, and its contrariety to the 
 
 P a
 
 12 The Compassion of Christ Seum. 8. 
 
 holy nature of God. This is the ground of his hatred 
 to sin, and sorrow for it; and this shews that there is 
 at least a spark of true grace in his heart, and that he 
 does not act altogether from the low, interested, and 
 mercenary principles of nature. 
 
 At such times he is very jealous of the sincerity of 
 his religion, afraid that all his past experiences were 
 delusive, and afraid that, if he should die in his pre- 
 sent state, he would he for ever miserable. A very 
 anxious state is this ! The stupid world can lie se- 
 cure while this grand concern lies in the most dread- 
 ful suspense. But the tender-hearted believer is not 
 capable of such fool-hardiness : he shudders at the 
 thought of everlasting separation from that God and 
 Saviour whom he loves. He loves him, and there- 
 fore the fear of separation from him, fills him with all 
 the anxiety of bereaved love. This to him is the 
 most painful ingredient of the punishment of hell. 
 Hell would be a seven-fold hell to a lover of God, 
 because it is a state of banishment from him whom he 
 loves. He could for ever languish and pine away under 
 the consuming distresses of widowed love, which those 
 that love him cannot feel. And has God kindled the 
 sacred flame in his heart in order to render him capable 
 of the more exquisite pain? Will he exclude from his 
 presence the poor creature that clings to him, and lan- 
 guishes for him? No, the flax that does but smoke 
 with his love was never intended to be fuel for hell ; 
 but he will blow it up into a flame, and nourish it till 
 it mingles with the seraphic ardors in the region of per- 
 fect love. 
 
 The weak believer seems sometimes driven by the 
 tempests of lust and temptation from off* the rock 
 Jesus Christ. But he makes towards it on the stormy 
 billows, and labours to lay hold upon it, and reco- 
 ver his station there; for he is sensible there is no 
 other foundation of safety, but that without Christ he 
 must perish for ever. It is the habitual disposition of 
 the believers soul to depend upon Jesus Christ. alone. 
 He retains a kind of direction or tendency towards 
 him, like the needle touched with the loadstone to- 
 wards the golc} and, if his heart is turned from its
 
 SiRM. 8. to weak Believers. 213 
 
 course, it trembles and quivers till it gains its favour- 
 its point again, and fixes there. Sometimes indeed 
 a consciousness of guilt renders him shy of his God 
 and Saviour; and after such base ingratitude he is 
 ashamed to go to him : but at length necessity as well 
 as inclination constrains him, and he is obliged to cry 
 out, Lord, to whom shall I go? Thou hast the words 
 of eternal life. John vi. 6$. " In thee alone I find 
 rest to my soul; and therefore to thee I must fly, 
 though I am ashamed and confounded to appear in thy 
 presence." 
 
 In short, the weakest christian upon earth sensibly 
 feels that his comfort rises and falls, as he lives nearer 
 to or farther from his God. The love of God has 
 such an habitual predominancy even in his heart, that 
 nothing in the world, nor even all the world together 
 can fill up his place. No, when he is gone, heaven 
 and earth cannot replenish the mighty void. Even 
 the weakest christian upon earth longs to be delivered 
 from sin, from all sin without exception ; and a body 
 of death hanging about him is the burden of his life. 
 Even the poor jealous languishing christian has his 
 hope, all the little hope that he has, built upon Jesus 
 Christ. Even this smoking flax sends up some exha- 
 lations of love towards heaven. Even the poor crea- 
 ture that often fears he is altogether a slave to sin, 
 honestly, though feebly, labours to be holy, to be holy 
 as an angel, yea, to be holy as God is holy. He has 
 an heart that feels the attractive charms of holiness, 
 and he is so captivated by it, that sin can never re- 
 cover its former place in his heart : no, the tyrant is 
 for ever dethroned, and the believer would rather die 
 than yield himself a tame slave to the usurped tyranny 
 again. 
 
 Thus I have delineated to you in the plainest man- 
 ner I could, the character of a weak christian. Some 
 of you I am afraid cannot lay claim even to this low 
 character, li' so, you may be sure you are not true 
 christians, even of the lowest rank. You may be sure 
 you have not the least spark of true religion in yuur 
 hearts, but are utterly destitute of it. 
 
 P3
 
 214 The Compassion of Christ SfBM. %. 
 
 - But some of you, I hope, can say, " Weil, after all 
 my doubts and fears, if- this be the character of a true, 
 though weak christian, then I may humbly hope that 
 I am one. I am indeed confirmed in it that I am less 
 than the least of all other saints upon the face of the 
 earth, but yet I see that I am a saint; for thus has my 
 heart been exercised, even in my dark and languishing 
 hours. This secret uneasiness and pining anxiety, this 
 thirst for God, for the living God, this tendency of 
 soul towards Jesus Christ, this implacable enmity to 
 sin, this panting and struggling after holiness; these 
 things have I often felt." And have you indeed ? then 
 away with your doubts and jealousies ! away with your 
 fears and despondencies ! There is at least an immor- 
 tal spark kindled in your hearts, which the united 
 power of men and devils, of sin and temptation, shall 
 never be able to quench. No, it shall yet rise into a 
 flame, and burn with seraphic ardors for ever. 
 
 For your farther encouragement I proceed, 
 
 II. To illustrate the care and compassion of Jesus 
 Christ for such poor weaklings as you. 
 
 This may appear a needless task to some ; for who 
 is there that does not believe it? But to such would I 
 say, it is no easy thing to establish a trembling soul in 
 the full belief of this truth. It is easy for one that 
 does not see his danger, and does not feel his extreme 
 need of salvation, and the difficulty of the work, to 
 believe that Christ is willing and able to save him. 
 Hut O ! to a poor soul, deeply sensible of its condition, 
 this is no easy matter. Besides, the heart may need 
 to be more deeply arfected with this truth, though the 
 understanding should need no farther arguments of the 
 speculative kind for its conviction; and to impress this 
 truth is my present design. 
 
 For this purpose I need but read and paraphrase to 
 you a few of the many kind declarations and assurances 
 which Jesus has given us in his word, and relate the 
 happy experiences of some of his saints there recorded, 
 who found him true and faithful to his word. 
 
 The Lord Jesus seems to have a peculiar tenderness 
 for the poor, the mourners, the broken-hearted; and 
 these arc peculiarly the objects of his mediatorial office,
 
 SfeitM 8. to weak Believers. {5 
 
 The Lord hath anointed me, says lie, to preach good 
 tidings to the meek ; he hath sent me all the way from 
 my native heaven down to earth, upon this compassion- 
 ate errand, to bind up the broken-hearted, to appoint 
 unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty 
 for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of 
 praise for the spirit of heaviness. Isa. Ixi. 1 3. Tnus 
 saith the Lord, in strains of majesty that become him, 
 the heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool : 
 where is the house that ye build unto me ? and where is 
 the place of my rest ? For all these things hath mine 
 hand made, saith the Lord. Had he spoken uniformly 
 in this majestic language to us guilty worms, the decla- 
 ration might have overwhelmed us with awe, but could 
 not have inspired us with hope. But he advances him- 
 self thus high, on purpose to let us see how low he can 
 stoop. Hear the encouraging sequel of this his majes- 
 tic speech : To this man will I look, even to him that is 
 poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my 
 word. Let heaven and earth wonder that he will look 
 down through all the shining ranks of angels, and look 
 by princes and nobles, to fix his eye upon this man, 
 this poor man, this contrite broken-hearted trembling 
 creature. Isa. lxvi. 1, c 2. He loves to dwell upon this 
 subject, and therefore you hear it again in the same 
 prophecy : " Thus saith the high and lofty One that 
 inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy, " what does 
 lie say ? I dwell in the high and holy place. Isa. lvii. 
 15. This is said in character. This is a dwelling in 
 some measure worthy the inhabitant. But O ! will he 
 stoop to dwell in a lower mansion, or pitch his tent 
 among mortals ? yes, he dwells not only in his high 
 and holy place, but also with him that is of a contrite 
 and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, 
 and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. He 
 charges Peter to feed his lambs as well as his sheep ; 
 that is, to take the tenderest care even of the weakest 
 in his flock. John xxi. 15. And he severely rebukes 
 the shepherds of Israel, Because, says he, ye have not 
 strengthened the diseased, neither have ye healed that 
 which was .sick, neither have ye bound up that zvhich 
 was broken. Ezek. xxxiv. 4- But what an amiable re- 
 
 P4
 
 216 The Campasssion of Christ Sirm. 8. 
 
 verse is the character. of the great Shepherd and Bishop 
 of souls ! Behold, saith Isaiah, the Lord will come with 
 a strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him : behold 
 his reward is with him, and his work before him. How 
 justly may we tremble at this proclamation of the 
 approaching God ! for who can stand when he ap^ 
 peareth ? But how agreeably are our fears disappointed 
 in what follows ! If lie comes to take vengeance on his 
 enemies, he also comes to shew mercy to the meanest 
 of his people. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd : 
 he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them 
 in Ids bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with 
 young; Isa. xl. 10, 11. that is, he shall exercise the 
 tenderest and most compassionate care towards the 
 meanest and weakest of his flock. He looked down, 
 says the Psalmist, from the height of his sanctuary ; 
 from heaven did the Lord behold the earth ; not to 
 view the grandeur and pride of courts and kings, nor 
 the heroic exploits of conquerors, but to hear the 
 groaning of the prisoner, to loose those that are apt 
 pointed to die. He will regard the prayer of the des- 
 titute, and not despise their prayer. This shall be 
 written for the generation to come. Psal. cij. 1720. 
 It was written for your encouragement, my brethren. 
 Above three thousand years ago this encouraging pas- 
 sage was entered into the sacred records for the support 
 of poor desponding souls in Virginia, in the ends of 
 the earth. O what an early provident care does God 
 shew for his people! There are none of. the seven 
 churches of Asia sp highly commended by Christ as 
 that of Philadelphia; and yet in commending her, all 
 he can say is, " Thou hast a little strength." 1 know 
 thy works ; behold I have set before thee an open door, 
 and no. man can shut it, Jor thou hast a little strength. 
 Rev. iii. 8. O how acceptable is a little strength to 
 Jesus Christ, and how ready is he to improve it ? He 
 givcth poxver to the faint, says Isaiah, and to them that 
 have no might he incrcaseth strength. Jsa. xl. 29. 
 Hear farther what words of grace and truth flowed 
 from the lips of Jesus: Come unto me, all ye that 
 labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest ; 
 for J am meek and lowly in heart, Matt. xi. 28, [).
 
 Ssn-MVlfc to weak Believers. 217 
 
 Him that comefh unto me, I will in nowise cast out. 
 John vi. 57. If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
 and drink. John vii. 37. Let him that is athirst come ; 
 and whosoever will, let him come and take of the water 
 of life freely. Rev. xxii. 17- O what strong consola- 
 tion is here ! what exceeding great and precious pro- 
 mises are these! I might easily add to the catalogue, 
 but these may suffice. 
 
 Let us now see how his people in every age have ever, 
 found these promises made good. Here David may 
 be consulted, in star omnium, and he will tell you, 
 pointing to himself, This poor man cried, and the Lord 
 heard and delivered him out of all his troubles. Psal. 
 xxxiv. 6. St. Paul, in the midst of affliction, calls 
 God the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort, 
 who comforteth us in all our tribulation. 2 Cor. 1. 3, 4. 
 God, says he, that comforteth those that are cast dozen, 
 comforted us. 2 Cor. vii. 6. What a sweetly empha- 
 tjcal declaration is this! "God the comforter of the 
 humble, comforted us*." He is not only the Lord of 
 hosts, the King of kings, the Creator of the world, 
 but among his more august characters he assumes this 
 title, " The Comforter of the humble." Such St. Paul 
 found him in an hour of temptation, when he had this 
 supporting answer to his repeated prayer for deliver- 
 ance, My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength 
 is made perfect in zveakness. L l Cor. xii. 9. Since this 
 was the case, since his weakness was more thau supplied 
 by the strength of Christ, and was a foil to set it off, 
 St. Paul seems quite regardless what infirmities he 
 laboured under. Nay, most gladly, says he, will I 
 rather glory in wy infirmities, that the power of Christ 
 may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infir- 
 mities for when I am weak, then am 1 strong. He 
 could take no pleasure in feeling himself weak ; but' 
 the mortification was made up by the pleasure he found 
 in- leaning upon this almighty support. His wounds 
 were painful to him, but O ! the pleasure he found in 
 feeling this divine physician dressing his wounds, in 
 
 * This is a more literal translation of 5 zjzpxx.*y\v rZr T*m,Hi 
 
 Tlctfiy.x?.icu r)[i.d$ los,
 
 218 The Compassion of Christ Serm & 
 
 some measure swallowed up the pain. It was probably 
 experience, as well as inspiration, that dictated to the 
 apostle that amiable character of Christ, that he is a 
 merciful and faithful high-priest, who, being himself 
 tempted, knows how to succour them that are tempted. 
 Heb. ii. 17,18. And we have not an high-priest which 
 cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, 
 butxvasin all points tempted like as we are, yet zvithout 
 sin. Heb. iv. 15. 
 
 But why need I multiply arguments ?' Go to his 
 cross, and there learn his love and compassion, from 
 his groans and wounds, and blood, and death. Would 
 he hang there in such agony for sinners, if he were 
 not willing to save them, and cherish every good prin- 
 ciple in them ? There you may have much the same 
 evidence of his compassion as Thomas had of his re- 
 surrection; you may look into his hands, and see the 
 print of the nails ; aud into his side and see the scar 
 of the spear; which loudly proclaim his readiness to 
 pity and help you. 
 
 And now, poor trembling doubting souls, what hin- 
 ders but you should raise up your drooping head, and 
 take courage ? May you not venture your souls into 
 such compassionate and faithful hands? Why should 
 the bruised reed shrink from him, when he comes not 
 to tread it down, but to raise it up ? 
 
 As I am really solicitous that impenitent hearts 
 among us should be pierced with the medicinal anguish 
 and sorrow of conviction and repentance, and the most 
 friendly heart cannot form a kinder wish for them, so 
 I am truly solicitous that every honest soul, in which 
 there is the least spark of true piety, should enjoy the 
 pleasure of it. It is indeed to be lamented that they 
 who have a title to so much happiness should enjoy so 
 little of it; it is very incongruous that they should 
 go bowing the head in their way towards heaven, as if 
 they were hastening to the place of execution, and 
 that they should serve so good a master with such 
 heavy hearts. () lift up the hands that hang down, 
 and strengthen the feeble knees ! Comfort ye, comfort 
 ye my people, salt h your God. Be strong in the Lord, 
 and in the power of Ins might. Trust in your all-
 
 Sf.rm. 8. to weak Believers. 219 
 
 sufficient Redeemer, trust in him though he should 
 slay you. 
 
 And do not indulge causeless doubts and fears con- 
 cerning your sincerity. When they arise in your 
 minds examine them, and search whether there be any 
 sufficient reason for them ; and if you discover there is 
 not, then reject them and set them at defiance, and 
 entertain your hopes in spite of them, and say with the- 
 Psalmist, IVhy art thou cast down, O my soul, and xvhy 
 art tltou disquieted within me ? Hope thou in God, for 
 I shall yet praise him, the health of my countenance, 
 and my God. Psalm xliii. 11.
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 
 The Connection between Present Holiness 
 and Future Felicity. 
 
 Heb. xii. 14. 
 Follow holiness; without which no man shall see the Lord. 
 
 AS the human soul was originally designed for the 
 enjoyment of no less a portion than the ever- 
 blessed God, it was formed with a strong innate ten- 
 dency towards happiness. It has not only an eager 
 fondness for existence, but for some good to render its 
 existence happy. And the privation of being itself is 
 not more terrible than the privation of all its blessings. 
 It is true, in the present degeneracy of human nature, 
 this vehement desire is miserably perverted and mis- 
 placed : man seeks his supreme happiness in sinful, or 
 at best in created enjoyments, forgetful of the un- 
 created fountain of bliss; but yet still he seeks happi- 
 ness; still this innate impetus is predominant, and 
 though he mistakes the means, yet he still retains a 
 general aim at the end. Hence he ransacks this lower 
 world in quest of felicity ; climbs in search of it the 
 slippery ascent of honour; hunts for it in the treasures 
 of gold and silver; or plunges for it in the foul streams 
 of sensual pleasures. But since all the sordid satis- 
 faction resulting from these things are not adequate to 
 the unbounded cravings of the mind, and since the 
 satisfaction is transitory and perishing, or we may be 
 wrenched from it by the inexorable hand of death, the 
 mind breaks through the limits of the present enjoy- 
 ments, and even of the lower creation, and ranges 
 through the unknown sceness of futurity in quest of 
 some untried good. Hope makes excursions into the
 
 Serm. 9- The Connexion between Holiness, 8$c. 221 
 
 dark duration between the present now and the grave, 
 and forms to itself pleasing images of approaching 
 blessings, which often vanish in the embrace, like de- 
 lusive phantoms. Nay, it launches into the vast un- 
 known world that lies beyond the grave, and roves 
 through the regions of immensity after some complete 
 felicity to supply the defects of sublunary enjoyments. 
 Hence, though men, till their spirits are refined by re- 
 generating grace, have no relish for celestial joys, but 
 pant for the poor pleasures of time and sense, yet, as 
 they cannot avoid the unwelcome consciousness that 
 death will ere long rend them from these sordid and 
 momentary enjoyments, are constrained to indulge the 
 hope of bliss in a future state: and they promise them- 
 selves happiness in another world when they can no 
 longer enjoy any in this. And as reason and revelation 
 unitedly assure them that this felicity cannot then con- 
 sist in sensual indulgences, they generally expect it 
 will be of a more refined and spiritual nature, and 
 flow more immediately from the great Father of spirits. 
 
 He must indeed be miserable that abandons all hope 
 of this blessedness. The christian religion affords him 
 no other prospect but that of eternal, intolerable mise- 
 ry in the regions of darkness and despair: and if he 
 flies to infidelity as a refuge, it can afford him no 
 comfort but the shocking prospect of annihilation. 
 
 Now, if men were pressed into heaven by an una- 
 voidable fatality, if happiness was promiscuously pro- 
 mised to them all without distinction of characters, 
 then they might indulge a blind unexamined hope, 
 and never perplex themselves with anxious enquiries 
 about it. And he might justly be deemed a malignant 
 disturber of the repose of mankind that would attempt 
 to shock their hope, and frighten them with causeless 
 scruples. 
 
 But if the light of nature intimates, and the voice 
 of scripture proclaims aloud, that this eternal felicity 
 is reserved only for persons of particular characters, 
 and that multitudes, multitudes who entertained pleas- 
 ing hopes of it, are confounded with an eternal disap- 
 pointment, and shall suffer and endless duration in the 
 most terrible miseries, we ought each of us to take
 
 22 The Connexion between Skrm. 9, 
 
 the alarm, and examine the grounds of our hope, that 
 jf they appear sufficient, we may allow ourselves a 
 rational satisfaction in them; and, if they are found 
 delusive, we may abandon them and seek for a hope 
 which will bear the test now while it may be obtained. 
 And however disagreeable the task be to give our 
 fellow-creatures even profitable uneasiness, yet he must 
 appear to the impartial a friend to the best interests of 
 mankind, who points out the evidences and foundation 
 of a rational and scriptural hope, and exposes the 
 various mistakes to which we are subject in so impor- 
 tant a case. 
 
 And if, when we look around us, Ave find persons 
 full of the hopes of heaven, who can give no scriptural 
 evidences of them to themselves or others ; if we find 
 many indulging this pleasing delusion, whose practices 
 are mentioned by God himself as the certain marks of 
 perishing sinners; and if persons are so tenacious of 
 these hopes, that they will retain them to their evelast- 
 ing ruin, unless the most convictive methods are taken 
 to undeceive them ; then it is high time for those to 
 whom the care of souls (a weightier charge than that 
 of kingdoms) is intrusted, to use the greatest plain- 
 ness for this purpose. 
 
 This is my chief design at present, and to this my 
 text naturally leads me. It contains these doctrines : 
 First, that without holiness here it is impossible for 
 us to enjoy heavenly happiness in the future world. 
 To see the Lord, is here put for enjoying him, see 
 Rom. viii. 24, and the metaphor signifies the happiness 
 of the future state in general; and more particularly 
 intimates that the knowledge of God will be a special 
 ingredient therein. See a parallel expression in Matt, 
 v. 8. 
 
 Secondly, That this consideration should induce us 
 to use the most earnest endeavours to obtain the hea- 
 venly happiness. Pursue holiness, because without it 
 no man can see the Lord. 
 Hence I am naturally led, 
 
 I. To explain the nature of that holiness, without 
 which no man shall see the Lord.
 
 Serm. 9. Holiness and Felicity. 223 
 
 II. To shew what endeavours should be used to obtain 
 it. And, 
 
 III. To urge you to use them by the consideration 
 of the absolute necessity of holiness. 
 
 I. I am to explain the nature of holiness. And I 
 shall give you a brief definition of it, and then mention 
 some of those dispositions and practices which naturally 
 flow from it. 
 
 The most intelligible description of holiness, as it is 
 inherent in us, may be this, " It is a conformity in 
 heart and practice to the revealed will of God." As 
 the Supreme Being is the standard of all perfection, 
 his holiness in particular is the standard of ours. Then 
 we are holy when his image is stamped upon our hearts 
 and reflected in our lives; so the apostle defines it, 
 And that ye put on the new man, which after God is 
 created in righteousness and true holiness. Ephesians 
 iv. 24. IVhom he did predestinaie to be conformed to 
 the image of his Son. Romans viii. 29- Hence holiness 
 may be defined, " A conformity to God in his moral 
 perfections." But as we cannot have a distinct know- 
 ledge of these perfections but as they are manifested by 
 the revealed will of God, I choose to define holiness, as 
 above, " A conformity to his revealed will." Now his 
 revealed will comprizes both the law and the gos- 
 pel : the law informs us of the duty which we as 
 creatures owe to God as a being of supreme excel- 
 lency as our Creator and Benefactor, and to men 
 as our fellow- creatures; and the gospel informs us of 
 the duty which as sinners we owe to God as reconcile- 
 able through a Mediator. Our obedience to the for- 
 mer implies the whole of morality, and to the latter 
 the whole of evangelical graces, as faith in a Mediator, 
 repentance, &c. 
 
 From this definition of holiness it appears, on the 
 one hand, that it is absolutely necessary to see the 
 Lord ; for unless our dispositions are conformed to 
 him, we cannot be happy in the enjoyment of him: 
 and, on the other hand, that they who are made thus 
 holy, are prepared for the vision and fruition of his 
 face, as they can relish the divinest pleasure. 
 
 But as a concise definition of holiness may give an
 
 224 77/e Connexion betwe&i Serm. #. 
 
 auditory but very imperfect ideas of it, I shall expa- 
 tiate upon the dispositions and practices in which it 
 consists, or >vbich naturally result from it; and they 
 are such as follow. % 
 
 J. A delight in God for his holiness. Self-love 
 may prompt us to love him for his goodness to us; and 
 so many un regenerate men may have a selfish love to 
 God on this account. But to love God because he is 
 infinitely holy, because he bears an infinite detestation 
 to all sin, and will not indulge his creatures in the neg^ 
 lect, of the least instance of holiness, but commands 
 them to be holy as he is holy* this is a disposition con- 
 natural to a renewed soul only, and argues a confor- 
 mity to his image. Every nature is most agreeable to 
 itself, and a holy nature is most agreeable to an holy 
 nature. 
 
 Here I would make a remark, which may God deep- 
 ly impress on your hearts, and which for that purpose 
 I shall subjoin to each particular, that holiness in 
 fallen man is supernatural; I mean, we are not born 
 with it, we give no discoveries of it, till we have ex- 
 perienced a great change. Thus we find it in the 
 present case; we have no natural love to God be- 
 cause of his infinite purity and hatred to all sin; nay, 
 we would love him more did he give us greater in- 
 dulgences ; and I am afraid the love of some persons 
 is founded upon a mistake; they love him because 
 they imagine he does not hate sin, nor them for it, so 
 much as he really does; because they think he will 
 bring them to heaven at last, let them live as they 
 list; and because they do not expect he is so inexor- 
 ably just in his dealings with the sinner. It is no 
 wonder they love such a soft, easy, passive being as this 
 imaginary deity; but did they see the lustre of that 
 holiness of God which dazzles the celestial armies; did 
 they but know the terrors of his justice, and his im- 
 placable indignation against sin, their innate enmity 
 would shew its poison, and their hearts would rise 
 against God in all those horrible blasphemies with 
 which awakened sinners are so frequently shocked 
 Such love as this is so far from being acceptable, that 
 it is the greatest affront to the Supreme. Being, as, if a
 
 Serm. fif. Holiness and Felicity. 225 
 
 profligate loved you on the mistaken supposition that 
 you were such a libertine as himself', it would rather 
 inflame your indignation than procure you respect. 
 
 But to a regenerate mind how strong, how trans- 
 porting are the charms of holiness ! Such a mind joins 
 the anthem of seraphs with the divinest complacency, 
 Rev. iv. 8. and anticipates the song of glorified saints, 
 Who would not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy 
 name, for thou only art holy? Rev. xv. 4. The per- 
 fections of God lose their lustre, or sink into objects 
 of terror or contempt, if this glorious attribute be 
 abstracted. Without holiness power becomes tyranny, 
 omniscience craft, justice revenge and cruelty, and 
 even the amiable attribute of goodness loses its charms, 
 and degenerates into a blind promiscuous prodigality, 
 or foolish undiscerning fondness: but whim these per- 
 fections are clothed in the beauties of holiness, how 
 Godlike, how majestic, how lovely and attractive do 
 they appear ! and with what complacence does a mind 
 fashioned after the divine image acquiesce in them ! 
 It may appear amiable even to an unholy sinner that 
 the exertions of almighty power should be regulated by 
 the most consummate wisdom ; that justice should not 
 without distinction punish the guilty and the innocent ; 
 but an holy soul only can rejoice that divine goodness 
 will not communicate happiness to the disgrace of holi- 
 ness; and that, rather than it should overflow in a blind 
 promiscuous manner, the whole human race should be 
 miserable. A selfish sinner has nothing in view but his 
 own happiness ; and if this be obtained, he has no 
 anxiety about the illustration of the divine purity; 
 but it recommends happiness itself to a sanctified soul, 
 that it cannot be communicated in a way inconsistent 
 With the beauty of holiness. 
 
 2. Holiness consists in an hearty complacence in the 
 Jaw of God, because of its purity. The law is the 
 transcript of the moral perfections of God; and if we 
 love the original we shall love the copy. According- 
 ly it is natural to a renewed mind to love the divine 
 law, because it is perfectly holy ; because it makes no 
 allowance for the least sin, and requires every fluty 
 that it becomes us to perform towards God. Psalm 
 
 Vol. L Q,
 
 226 The Connexion between Serm. 9. 
 
 cxix. 140. and xix. 7 10. Romans vii. 12, compared 
 with 22. 
 
 But is this our natural disposition ? Is this the dis- 
 position of the generality ? Do they not, on the con- 
 trary, secretly find fault with the law, because it is so 
 strict? And their common objection against that holi- 
 ness of life which it enjoins is, that they cannot bear to 
 be so precise. Hence they are always for abating the 
 rigour of the law, for bringing it down to some ima- 
 ginary standard of their own, to their present ability, 
 to sins of practice without regard to the sinful dispo- 
 sitions of the heart; or to the prevailing dispositions 
 of the heart without regard to the first workings of 
 concupiscence, those embryos of iniquity ; and if they 
 love the law at all, as they profess to do, it is upon 
 supposition that it is not so strict as it really is, but 
 grants them greater indulgences, Romans vii. 7. 
 
 Hence it appears that, if we are made holy at all, 
 it must be by a supernatural change ; and when that is 
 effected, what a strange and happy alteration does the 
 sinner perceive? with what pleasure does he resign 
 himself a willing subject to that law to which he 
 was once so averse? And when he fails (as, alas! he 
 does in many things) how is he humbled ! he does 
 not lay the fault upon the law as requiring impossibi- 
 lities, but lays the whole fault upon himself as a corrupt 
 sinner. 
 
 3. Holiness consists in an hearty complacence in the 
 gospel-method of salvation, because it tends to illustrate 
 the moral perfections of the Deity, and to discover the 
 beauties of holiness. 
 
 The gospel informs us of two grand pre-requisites 
 to the salvation of the fallen sons of men, namely, The 
 satisfaction of divive justice by the obedience and 
 passion of Christ, that God might be reconciled to 
 them consistently with his perfections ; and the sanc- 
 tification of sinners by the etficacv of the Holy Ghost, 
 that they might be capable of enjoying God, and that 
 he might maintain intimate communion with them 
 without any stain to his holiness. These two grand 
 articles contain the substance of the gospel; and our 
 acquiescence in them is the substance of that evangeli-
 
 Serm. 9. Holiness and Felicity. 227 
 
 cal obedience which it requires of us, and which is essen- 
 tial to holiness in a fallen creature. 
 
 Nov, it is evident, that without either of these the 
 moral perfections of the Deity, particularly his holi- 
 ness, could not be illustrated, or even secured in the 
 salvation of a sinner. Had he received an apostate 
 race into favour, who had conspired in the most un- 
 natural rebellion against him, without any satisfaction, 
 his holiness would have been eclipsed; it would not 
 have appeared that he had so invincible an abhorrence 
 of sin, so zealous a regard for the vindication of his 
 own holy law; or to his veracity, which had threatened 
 condign punishment to offenders. But by the satis- 
 faction of Christ, his holiness is illustrated in the most 
 conspicuous manner; now it appears, that God would 
 upon no terms save a sinner but that of adequate satis- 
 faction, and that no other was sufficient but the suffer- 
 ing of his coequal Sou, otherwise he would not have 
 appointed him to sustain the character of mediator ; 
 and now it appears that his hatred of sin is such that 
 he would not let it pass unpunished even in his own 
 Son, when only imputed to him. In like manner, if 
 sinners, while unholy, were admitted into communion 
 with God in heaven, it would obscure the glory of his 
 holiness, and it would not then appear that such was 
 the purity of his nature that he could have no fellow- 
 ship with sin. But now it is evident, that even the 
 blood of Immanuel cannot purchase heaven to be en- 
 joyed by a sinner while unholy, but that every one that 
 arrives at heaven must first be sanctified. An unholy 
 sinner can be no more saved, while such, by the gos- 
 pel than by the law; but here lies the difference, that 
 the gospel makes provision for his sanctification; which 
 is gradually carried on here, and perfected at death, 
 before his admission into the heavenly glory. 
 
 Now it is the genius of true holiness to acquiesce in 
 both these articles. A sanctified soul places all its de- 
 pendence on the righteousness of Christ for acceptance. 
 It would be disagreeable to it to have the least concur- 
 rence in its own justification. It is not only willing, 
 but delights to renounce a'! its own righteousness, and 
 to glory in Christ alone, Phil. iii. 3. Free grace to 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 The Connexion betzveen Serm. 9. 
 
 such souls is a charming theme, and salvation is more 
 acceptable, because conveyed in this way. It would 
 render heaven itself disagreeable, and wither all its 
 joys, were they brought thither in a way that degrades 
 or does not illustrate the glory of God's holiness; but 
 O how agreeable the thought, that he that glorieth must 
 glory in the Lord, and that the pride of all flesh shall be 
 abased ! 
 
 So an holy person rejoices that the way of holiness 
 is the appointed way to heaven. He is not forced to 
 be holy merely by the servile consideration that he 
 must be so or perish, and so unwillingly submits to 
 the necessity which he cannot avoid, when in the 
 mean time, were it put to his choice, he would choose 
 to reserve some sins, and neglect some painful duties. 
 So far from this, that he delights in the gospel-consti- 
 tution, because it requires universal holiness, and 
 heaven would be less agreeable, were he to carry even 
 the least sin there. He thinks it no hardship that he 
 must deny himself in his sinful pleasures, and habituate 
 himself to so much strictness in religion ; no, but he 
 blesses the Lord for obliging him to it, and where he 
 fails he charges himself with it, and is self-abased upon 
 the account. 
 
 This is solid rational religion, fit to be depended up- 
 on, in opposition to the antinomian licentiousness, the 
 freaks of enthusiasm, and the irrational flights of pas- 
 sion and imagination on the one hand; and in oppo- 
 sition to formality, mere morality, and the self-sprung 
 religion of nature on the other. And is it not evi- 
 dent Ave are destitute of this by nature? Men natu- 
 rally arc averse to this gospel-method of salvation ; 
 they will not submit to the righteousness of God, but 
 fix their dependence, in part at least, upon their own 
 merit. Their proud hearts cannot bear the thought 
 that all their performances must go for just nothing in 
 their justification. They are also averse to the way of 
 holiness ; hence they will either abandon the expec- 
 tation of heaven, and, since they cannot obtain it in 
 their sinful ways, desperately conclude to go on in sin 
 come what will; or, with all the little sophistry they 
 are capable of, they will endeavour to widen the way
 
 Serm. 9. Holiness and Felicity. 229 
 
 to heaven, and persuade themselves they shall attain 
 it, notwithstanding their continuance in some known 
 iniquity, and though their hearts have never been 
 thoroughly sanctified. Alas ! How evident is this all 
 around us ! How many either give up their hopes of 
 heaven rather than part with sin, or vainly hold them, 
 while their dispositions and practices prove them ground- 
 less? And must not such degenerate creatures be renew- 
 ed ere they can be holy, or see the Lord? 
 
 4. Holiness consists in an habitual delight in all the 
 duties of holiness towards God and man, and an earnest 
 desire for communion with God in them. This is the 
 natural result of all the foregoing particulars. If we 
 love God for his holiness, we shall delight in that ser- 
 vice in which our conformity to him consists: if we 
 love his law, we shall delight in that obedience which 
 it enjoins; and if we take complacence in the evange- 
 lical method of salvation, we shall take delight in that 
 holiness, without which we cannot enjoy it. The ser- 
 vice of God is the element, the pleasure of an holy 
 soul; while others delight in the riches, the honours, 
 or the pleasures of this world, the holy soul desires one 
 thing of the Lord, that it may behold his beauty while 
 enquiring in his temple. Psalm xxvii. 4. Such a per- 
 son delights in retired converse with heaven in medita- 
 tion and prayer. Psalm exxxix. 17- and lxiii. 5, 6, and 
 Ixxiii. 28. He also takes pleasure in justice, benevo- 
 lence, and charity towards men. Psalm cxii. 5, 9. and 
 in the strictest temperance and sobriety. 1 Cor. ix. 27. 
 
 Moreover, the mere formality of performing reli- 
 gious duties does not satisfy a true saint, unless he 
 enjoys a divine freedom therein, receives communica- 
 tions of grace from heaven, and finds his graces quick- 
 ened. Psalm, xlii. 1, 2. 
 
 This consideration also shews us that holiness in us 
 must be supernatural; for do we naturally thus delight 
 in the service of God? or do you all now thus delight 
 in it? is it not rather a weariness to you, and do you 
 not find more pleasures in other things? Surely you 
 must be changed, or you can have no relish for the 
 enjoyment of heavenly happiness. 
 
 Q3
 
 30 The Connection between Serji. g. 
 
 5. To constitute us saints indeed there must be uni- 
 versal holiness in practice. This naturally follows 
 from the last, for as the body obeys the stronger voli- 
 tions of the will, so when the heart is prevailingly 
 disposed to the service of God, the man will habitually 
 practise it. This is generally mentioned in scripture 
 as the grand characteristic of real religion, without 
 which all our pretensions are vain. 1 John iii. 3 10, 
 and v. 3. John xv. 14. True christians are far from 
 being perfect in practice, yet they are prevailingly holy 
 in all manner of conversation ; they do not live habi- 
 tually in any one known sin, or wilfully neglect any 
 any one known duty. Psalm cxix. 6. 
 
 Without this practical holiness no man shall see the 
 Lord; and if so, how great a change must be brought 
 on most before they can see him, for how few are thus 
 adorned with a life of universal holiness? Many pro- 
 fess the name of Christ, but how few of them depart 
 from iniquity ? But to what purpose do they call him 
 Master and Lord, while they do not the things which 
 he commands them ? 
 
 Thus I have as plainly as I could described the 
 nature and properties of that holiness, without which 
 no man shall see the Lord; and they who are possessed 
 of it may lift up their heads with joy, assured that God 
 has begun a good work in them, and that he will carry 
 it on; and on the other hand, they that are destitute 
 of it may be assured, that, unless they are made new 
 creatures, they cannot see the Lord. I come, 
 
 II. To shew you the endeavours we should use to 
 obtain this holiness. And they are such as these. 
 
 1. Endeavour to know whether you are holy or not 
 by close examination. It is hard indeed for some to 
 know positively that they are holy, as they are per- 
 plexed with the appearances of realities, and the fears 
 of counterfeits; but it is then easy for many to con- 
 clude negatively that they are not holy, as they have 
 not the likeness of it. To deterrnine this point is of 
 great use to our successful seeking after holiness. That 
 an unregenerate sinner should attend on the means of 
 grace with other aims than one that has reason to be- 
 lieve himself sanctified, is evident. The anxieties,
 
 Sekm. 9. Holiness and Felicity. 231 
 
 sorrows, desires, and endeavours of the one should run 
 in a very different channel from those of the other. 
 The one should look upon himself as a guilty and con- 
 demned sinner; the other should allow himself the 
 pleasure of a justified state: the one should pursue 
 after the implantation; the other after the increase ot 
 holiness : the one should indulge a seasonable concern 
 about his lost condition ; the other repose an humble 
 confidence in God as reconciled to him : the one should 
 look upon the threatenings of God as his doom; the 
 other embrace the promises as his portion. Hence it 
 follows that, while we are mistaken about our state, we 
 cannot use endeavours after holiness in a proper man- 
 ner. We act like a physician that applies medicines at 
 random, without knowing the disease. It is a certain 
 conclusion that the most generous charity, under scrip- 
 tural limitations, cannot avoid, that multitudes are 
 destitute of holiness, and ought not we to enquire with 
 proper anxiety whether we belong to that number ? 
 Let us be impartial, and proceed according to evidence. 
 If we find those marks of holiness in heart and life 
 which have been mentioned, let not an excessive scru- 
 pulosity frighten us from drawing the happy conclu- 
 sion : and, if we find them not, let us exercise so 
 much wholesome severity against ourselves, as honestly 
 to conclude we are unholy sinners, and must be renew- 
 ed before we can see the Lord. The conclusion no 
 doubt will give you a painful anxiety; but if you was 
 my dearest friend, I could not form a kinder wish for 
 you than that you might be incessantly distressed with 
 it till you are born again. This conclusion will not 
 be always avoidable; the light of eternity will force 
 you upon it ; and whether is it better to give way to it 
 now, when it may be to your advantage,, or be forced 
 to admit it then, when it will be only a torment? 
 
 2. Awake, arise, and betake yourselves in earnest to 
 all the means of grace. Your life, your eternal life is 
 concerned, and therefore it calls for all the ardor and 
 earnestness you are capable of exerting. Accustom 
 yourself to meditation, converse with yourselves in 
 retirement, and live no longer strangers at home. Read 
 the word of God and other good books, with diligence,
 
 232 The Connexion between Serm. 9, 
 
 attention, and self-application. Attend on the public 
 ministrations of the gospel, not as a trifler, but as one 
 that sees his eternal All concerned. Shun the tents of 
 sin, the rendezvous of sinners, and associate with those 
 that have experienced the change you want, and can 
 give you proper directions. Prostrate yourself before 
 the God of heaven, confess your sin, implore his mercy, 
 cry to him night and day, and give him no rest, till 
 the importunity prevail, and you take the kingdom of 
 heaven by violence. 
 
 But after all, acknowledge that \t is God that must 
 work in you both to will and to do, and that when you 
 have done all these things you are but unprofitable 
 servants. I do not prescribe these directions as though 
 these means could effect holiness in you ; no, they can 
 no more do it than a pen can write without a hand. It 
 is the holy Spirit's province alone to sanctify a degene- 
 rate sinner, but he is wont to do it while we are 
 waiting upon him in the use of these means, though 
 our best endeavours give us no title to his grace ; but 
 he may justly leave us after all in that state of condem- 
 nation and corruption into which we have voluntarily 
 brought ourselves. I go on, 
 
 III. And lastly, to urge you to the use of these 
 means from the consideration mentioned in the text, 
 the absolute necessity of holiness to the enjoyment of 
 heavenly happiness. 
 
 Here I would shew that holiness is absolutely neces- 
 sary, and that the consideration of its necessity may 
 strongly enforce the pursuit of it. 
 
 The necessity of holiness appears from the un- 
 changeable appointment of heaven, and the nature of 
 things. 
 
 1. The unchangeable appointment of God excludes 
 all the unholy from the kingdom of heaven; see 1 Cor. 
 ix. 6. Rev. xxi. 27. Psal. v. 4, 5. 2 Cor. v. 17. Gal. vi. 
 1.5. It is most astonishing that many who profess to 
 believe the divine authority of the scriptures, will yet 
 indulge vain hopes of heaven, in opposition to the 
 plainest declarations of eternal truth. But though 
 there were no positive constitution excluding the unholy 
 from heaven, yet,
 
 S f. n m. 9. Holin ess and Felicity. 233 
 
 2. The very nature of things excludes sinners from 
 heaven ; that is, it is impossible in the nature of things, 
 that, while they are unholy, they could receive happi- 
 ness from the employments and entertainments of the 
 heavenly world. If these consisted in the affluence of 
 those things which sinners delight in here, if its enjoy- 
 ments were earthly riches, pleasures, aud honours ; if 
 jts employments were the amusements of the present 
 life, then they might be happy there, as far as their 
 sordid natures are capable of happiness. But these 
 trifles have no place in heaven. The felicity of that 
 state consists in the contemplation of the divine per- 
 fections, and there displays in the works of creation, 
 providence, and redemption ; hence it is described by see- 
 ing the Lord, Matt. v. 18. and as a state of knowledge, 
 1 Cor. xiii. 10 12. in the satisfaction resulting thence, 
 Psal. xvii. 15, and a complacency in God as a portion, 
 Psal. lxxiii. 2.5, 26. and in perpetual serving and prais- 
 ing the Lord ; and hence adoration is generally men- 
 tioned as the employ of all the hosts of heaven. These 
 are the entertainments of heaven, and they that cannot 
 find supreme happiness in these, cannot find it in 
 heaven. But it is evident these things could afford no 
 satisfaction to an unholy person. He would pine away 
 at the heavenly feast, for want of appetite for the 
 entertainment: an holy God would be an object of 
 horror rather than delight to him, and his service 
 would be a weariness, as it is now. Hence it appears, 
 that if we do not place our supreme delight in these 
 things here, we cannot be happy hereafter; for there 
 will be no change of dispositions in a future state, but 
 only the perfection of those predominant in us here, 
 whether good or evil. Either heaven must be changed, 
 or the sinner, before he can be happy there. Hence 
 also it appears, that God's excluding such from heaven 
 is no more an act of cruelty than our not admitting a 
 si( k man to a least, who has no relish for the enter- 
 tainments; or not bringing a blind man into the light 
 of the sun, or to view a beautiful prospect. 
 
 We ste then that holiness is absolutely necessary; 
 and what a great inducement should this consideration 
 be to pursue it ? It' we do not see the Lord, wc shall
 
 234 The Connexion between Holiness, c. Seiui. 9. 
 
 never see good. We are cut off at death from all 
 earthly enjoyments, and can no longer make experi- 
 ments to satisfy our unbounded desires with them ; and 
 we have no God to supply their room. We are banish- 
 ed from all the joys of heaven, and how vast, how in- 
 conceivably vast is the loss ! We are doomed to the 
 regions of darkness for ever, to bear the vengeance of 
 eternal fire, to feel the lashes of a guilty conscience, 
 and to spend an eternity in an horrid intimacy with 
 infernal ghosts ! and will we not then rather follow 
 holiness, than incur so dreadful a doom ? By the ter- 
 rors of the Lord, then be persuaded to break off your 
 sins by righteousness, and follow holiness; without 
 which no man shall see the Lord,
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Glories of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 John xviii. S7. 
 
 Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a King then? Jesus 
 answered^ Thou sayest that I am a King. To this end icas I 
 born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should 
 bear witness unto the truth. 
 
 KINGS and kingdoms are the most majestic 
 sounds in the language of mortals, and have iilled 
 the world with noise, confusions, and blood, since man- 
 kind first left the state of nature, and formed them- 
 selves into societies. The disputes of kingdoms for 
 superiority have set the world in arms from age to age, 
 and destroyed or enslaved a considerable part of the 
 human race; and the contest is not yet decided. Our 
 country has been a region of peace and tranquillity for 
 a long time, but it has not been because the lust of 
 power and riches is extinct in the world, but because 
 we had no near neighbours, whose interest might clash 
 with ours, or who were able to disturb us. The absence 
 of an enemy was our sole defence. But now, when the 
 colonies of the sundry European nations on this conti- 
 nent begin to enlarge, and approach towards each 
 other, the scene is changed : now encroachments, de- 
 predations, barbarities, and all the terrors of war begin 
 to surround and alarm us. Now our country is inva- 
 ded and ravaged, and bleeds in a thousand veins. 
 We have already*, so early in the year, received alarm 
 upon alarm ; and we may expect the alarms to grow 
 louder and louder as the season advances. 
 
 These commotions and perturbations have had 
 one good effect upon me, and that is, they have carried 
 away my thoughts of late into a serene and peaceful 
 region, a region beyond the reach of confusion and 
 violence ; I mean, the kingdom of the Prince of 
 
 * This sermon was preached in Hunover, Virginia, May 9, 1/56.
 
 236 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm 10. 
 
 Peace. And thither, my brethren, I would also trans- 
 port your minds this day, as the best refuge from this 
 boisterous world, and the most agreeable mansion for 
 the lovers of peace and tranquillity. I find it advan- 
 tageous both to you and myself, to entertain you with 
 those subjects that have made the deepest impression 
 upon my own mind : and this is the reason why I 
 choose the present subject. In my text you hear one 
 entering a claim to a kingdom, whom you would con- 
 clude, if you regarded only his outward appearance, to 
 be the meanest and vilest of mankind. To hear a 
 powerful prince, at the head of a victorious army, at- 
 tended with all the royalties of his character, to hear 
 such an one claim the kingdom he had acquired by 
 force of arms, would not be strange. But here the 
 despised Nazarene, rejected by his nation, forsaken by 
 his followers, accused as the worst of criminals, stand- 
 ing defenceless at Pilate's bar, just about to be con- 
 demned and hung on a cross, like a malefactor and a 
 slave, here he speaks in a royal stile, even to his judge, 
 I am a King: for this purpose was I bom ; and for 
 this cause came I into the world. Strange language 
 indeed to proceed from his lips in these circumstances ! 
 But the truth is, a great, a divine personage is conceal- 
 ed under this disguise; and his kingdom is of such a 
 nature, that his abasement and crucifixion were so far 
 from being a hindrance to it, that they were the only 
 way to acquire it. These sufferings were meritorious; 
 and by these he purchased his subjects, and a right to 
 rule them. 
 
 The occasion of these words was this : the unbeliev- 
 ing Jews were determined to put Jesus to death as an 
 impostor. The true reason of their opposition to him 
 was, that he had severely exposed their hypocrisy, 
 claimed the character of the Messiah, without answer- 
 ing their expectations as a temporal prince and a 
 mighty conqueror; and introduced a new religion, 
 which superseded the law of Moses, in which they had 
 been educated. But this reason they knew would have 
 but little weight with Pilate the Roman governor, who 
 was an heathen, and had no regard to their religion. 
 They therefore bring a charge of another kind, which
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 237 
 
 they knew would touch the governor very sensibly 
 and that was, that Christ had set himself up as the 
 King of the Jews ; which was treason against Caesar 
 the Roman emperor, under whose yoke they then were. 
 This was all pretence and artifice. They would now 
 seem to be very loyal to the emperor, and unable to 
 bear with any claims inconsistent with his authority ; 
 whereas in truth, they were impatient of a foreign 
 government, and were watching for any opportunity to 
 shake it orf. And had Christ been really guilty of the 
 charge they alledged against him, he would have been 
 the more acceptable to them. Had he set himself up 
 as King of the Jews, in opposition to Caesar, and em- 
 ployed his miraculous powers to make good his claim, 
 the whole nation would have welcomed him as their 
 deliverer, and flocked round his standard. But Jesus 
 came not to work a deliverance of this kind, nor to 
 erect such a kingdom as they desired, and therefore 
 they rejected him as an impostor. This charge, how- 
 ever, they bring against him, in order to carry their 
 point with the heathen governor. They knew he was 
 zealous for the honour and interest of Caesar his master; 
 and Tiberius, the then Roman emperor, was so jealous 
 a prince, and kept so many spies over his governors in 
 all the provinces, that they were obliged to be very 
 circumspect, and shew the strictest regard for his 
 rights, in order to escape degradation, or a severer 
 punishment. It was this that determined Pilate, in 
 the struggle with his conscience, to condemn the inno- 
 cent Jesus. He was afraid the Jews would inform 
 against him, as dismissing one that set up as the rival 
 of Caesar; and the consequence of this he well knew. 
 The Jews were sensible of this, and therefore they 
 insist upon this charge, and at length plainly tell him, 
 //' thou let tnis man go, thou art not Catsars friend. 
 Pilate therefore, who cared but little what innovations 
 Christ should introduce into the Jewish religion, 
 thought proper to inquire into this matter, and asks 
 him, " Art thou the King of the Jews ?" dost thou 
 indeed claim such a character, which may interfere 
 with CiL-sar's government D Jesus replies, My kingdom 
 is nut of this world; as much as to say, " I do not
 
 238 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serjv*. 10. 
 
 deny that I claim a kingdom, but it is of such a nature 
 that it need give no alarm to the kings of the earth. 
 Their kingdoms are of this world, but mine is spiritual 
 and divine*, and therefore cannot interfere with theirs. 
 If my kingdom were of this world, like theirs, I would 
 take the same methods with them to obtain and secure 
 it; my servants would fight for me, that I should not 
 be delivered to the Jews; but now, you see, I use no 
 such means for my defence, or to raise me to my king- 
 dom : and therefore you may be assured, my kingdom 
 is not from hence, and can give the Roman emperor 
 no umbrage for suspicion, or uneasiness." Pilate an- 
 swers to this purpose : Thou dost, how ever, speak of a 
 kingdom ; and art thou a king then ? dost thou in 
 any sense claim that character? The poor prisoner 
 boldly replies, Thou say est that I am a king ; that is, 
 " Thou hast struck upon the truth : I am indeed a 
 king in a certain sense, and nothing shall constrain me 
 to renounce the title." To this end was I horn, and for 
 this cause came I into the zvorld, that I should bear 
 witness to the truth; "particularly to this truth, which 
 now looks so unlikely, namely, that I am really a 
 king. I was born to a kingdom and a crown, and 
 came into the world to take possession of my right." 
 This is that good confession which St. Paul tells us, 
 2 Tim. vi. 13. our Lord witnessed before Pontius Pi- 
 late. Neither the hopes of deliverance, nor the terrors 
 of death, could cause him to retract it, or renounce 
 his claim. 
 
 In prosecuting this subject I intend only to enquire 
 into the nature and properties of the kingdom of Christ. 
 And in order to render my discourse the more familiar, 
 and to adapt it to the present state of our country, I 
 shall consider this kingdom in contrast with the king- 
 doms of the earth, with which we are better ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 * Domitian, the Roman emperor, being apprehensive that Christ's 
 earthly relations might claim a kingdom in his right, inquired of them 
 concerning the nature of his kingdom, and when and where it should 
 be set up. They replied, " It was not earthly, but heavenly and ange- 
 lical, and to be set up at the end of the world." 'Ov xoo-^/x^ /*tv tsh 
 
 rntyet^)- rfj.vij*' oi hi ayhl.tx.?, ~x.yya.tii \irt crt(sAs<c tS iv- QMVJop.irn, 
 
 Euscb. Eccl. Hist, lib. iii, cap. 20.
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 239 
 
 The scriptures represent the LordJesus under a great 
 variety of characters, which, though insufficient fully 
 to represent him, yet in conjunction assist us to form 
 such exalted ideas of this great personage, as mortals 
 can reach. He is a Surety, that undertook and paid the 
 dreadful debt of obedience and suffering, which sinners 
 owed to the divine justice and law : He is a Priest, a 
 great High Priest, that once offered himself as a sacri- 
 fice for sin; and now dwells in his native heaven at 
 his Father's right hand, as the advocate and intercessor 
 of his people: He is a Prophet, who teaches his church 
 in all ages by his word and spirit: He is the supreme 
 and universal Judge, to whom men and angels are 
 accountable; and his name is Jesus, a Saviour, because 
 he saves his people from their sins. Under these august 
 and endearing characters he is often represented. But 
 there is one character under which he is uniformly re- 
 presented, both in the Old and New Testament, and 
 that is, that of a King, a great King, invested with 
 universal authority. And upon his appearance in the 
 flesh, all nature, and especially the gospel-church, is 
 represented as placed under him, as his kingdom. 
 Under this idea the Jews were taught by their prophets 
 to look for him ; and it was their understanding these 
 predictions of some illustrious king that should rise 
 from the house of David, in a literal and carnal sense, 
 that occasioned their unhappy prejudices concerning 
 the Messiah as a secular prince and conqueror. Under 
 this idea the Lord Jesus represented himself while upon 
 earth, and under this idea he was published to the 
 world by his apostles. The greatest kings of the Jew- 
 ish nation, particularly David and Solomon, were types 
 of him ; and many things are primarily applied to 
 them, which have their complete and final accomplish- 
 ment in him alone. It is to him ultimately we are to 
 apply the second Psalm : / have set my king, says 
 Jehovah, upon my holy hill of Zion. Ask of me, and 
 I xvill give thee the heathen for thy inheritance, and 
 the utmost parts of the earth for thy possession. Psal. 
 ii. 6, 8. If we read ihe seventy-second Psalm we shall 
 easily perceive that one greater than Solomon is there. 
 In his days shall the righteous jlourish ; and abundance
 
 2-io The Mediatorial Kingdom and Sf.rm. 10, 
 
 of peace so long as the moon endurcth. All kings shall 
 Jail doxvn before him ; all nations shall serve him. His 
 name shall continue for ever; his name shall endure 
 qs long as the sun : and men shall be blessed in him ; 
 and all nations shall call him blessed. Psal. lxxii. 7, 1 J, 
 17. The hundred and tenth Psalm is throughout a 
 celebration of the kingly and priestly office of Christ 
 united. The Lord, says David, said unto my Lord, 
 unto that divine person who is my Lord, and will also 
 be my Son, sit thou at my right hand, in the highest 
 honour and authority, until I make thine enemies thy 
 footstool. Rule thou in the midst of thine enemies. 
 Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power, and 
 submit to thee in crowds as numerous as the drops of 
 morning dew. Psal. ex. 1 3. The evangelical prophet 
 Isaiah is often transported with the foresight of this 
 illustrious King, and the glorious kingdom of his 
 grace : Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given ; 
 and the government shall be upon his shoulder ; and he 
 shall be called' the Prince of Peace. Of the increase 
 of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon 
 the throne of David and upon his kingdom, to order 
 and to establish it with judgment and with justice, from 
 henceforth even for ever. Isa. ix. 6, 7- This is he who 
 is described as another David in Ezekiel's prophecy, 
 Thus saith the Lord, I will take the children of Israel 
 from among the heathen. . And I will make them one 
 nation and one king shall be king to them all even 
 David my servant shall be king over them. Ezek. 
 xxxvii. 21, 22, 24. This is the kingdom represented 
 to Nebuchadnezzar in his dream, as a stone cut out 
 without hands, which became a great mountain, and 
 filled the whole earth. And Daniel, in expounding the 
 dream, having described the Babylonian, the Persian, 
 the Grecian, and Roman empires, subjoins, In the days 
 of these kings, that is, of the Roman emperors, shall 
 the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never 
 be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not, like the for- 
 mer, be left to other people; but it shall break in pieces 
 and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for 
 ever. Dan. ii. 34, 3.5, 44. There is no character 
 which our Lord so often assumed in the days of his
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus ChrisL 241 
 
 flesh as that of the Son of Man; and he no doubt 
 alludes to a majestic vision in Daniel, the only place 
 where this character is given him in the Old Testament: 
 I sazo in the night visions, says Daniel, and behold, one 
 like the Son of Man came to the Ancient of Days, and 
 there was give?i to him dominion, and glory, and a 
 kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages, should 
 serve him : his dominion is an everlasting dominion* 
 which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which 
 shall not be destroyed, Dan. vii. 13, 14. like the totter- 
 ing kingdoms of the earth, which are perpetually ris- 
 ing and falling, This is the king that Zechariah refers 
 to when, in prospect of his triumphant entrance into 
 Jerusalem, he calls the inhabitants to give a proper 
 reception to so great a Prince. Rejoice greatly, O 
 daughter of Zion, shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: 
 behold thy King coming unto thee, &c. Zech. ix. g. 
 Thus the prophets conspire to ascribe royal titles and a 
 glorious kingdom to the Messiah. And these early 
 and plain notices of him raised a general expectation 
 of him under this royal character. It was from these 
 prophecies concerning him as a king, that the Jews 
 took occasion, as I observed, to look for the Messiah 
 as a temporal prince; and it was a long time before the 
 apostles themselves were delivered from these carnal 
 prejudices. They were solicitous about posts of ho- 
 nour in that temporal kingdom which they expected 
 he would set up: and even after his resurrection they 
 cannot forbear asking him, Lord, wilt thou at this 
 time restore again the kingdom to Israel. Acts i. 6. 
 that is, u Wilt thou now restore the Jews to their 
 former liberty and independency, and deliver them 
 from their present subjection to the Romans?" It was 
 under this view that Herod was alarmed at his birth, 
 and shed the blood of so many innocents, that he 
 might not escape. He was afraid of him as the heir 
 of David's family and crown, who might dispossess 
 him of the government; nay, he was expected by 
 other nations under the character of a mighty king ; 
 and they no doubt learned this notion of him from 
 the Jewish prophecies, as well as their conversation 
 with that people. Hence the Magi, or eusteru wise* 
 Vol. I. K
 
 242 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 men, when they came to pay homage to him upon his 
 birth, inquired after him in this language " Where 
 is he that is born king of the Jews ?" Matt. ii. 2. 
 And what is still more remarkable, we are told by two 
 heathen historians, that about the time of his appear- 
 ance a general expectation of him under this character 
 prevailed through the world. " Many," says Tacitus, 
 " had a persuasion that it was contained in the antient 
 writings of the priests, that at that very time the east 
 should prevail, and that some descendant from Judah 
 should obtain the universal government*." Suetonius 
 speaks to the same purpose: "An old and constant 
 opinion," says he, ie commonly prevailed through all 
 the east, that it was in the fates, that some should rise 
 out of Judea who should obtain the government of 
 the world f." This royal character Christ himself as- 
 sumed, even when he conversed among mortals in the 
 humble form of a servant. " The Father, says he, 
 has given me power over all flesh. John xvii. 2. Yea, 
 all pozver in heaven and earth is given to me. Matt, 
 xxviii. 13. The gospel-church which he erected is 
 most commonly called the kingdom of heaven or of 
 God, in the evangelists: and when he was about to 
 introduce it, this was the proclamation: The kingdom 
 of heaven is at hand. Under this character also his 
 servants and disciples celebrated and preached him. 
 Gabriel led the song in foretelling his birth to his 
 mother. He shall be great, and the Lord shall give 
 unto him the throne of his father David; and he shall 
 reign over the house of Jacob for ever: and of his 
 kingdom there shall be no end. Luke i. 32, 33. St. 
 Peter boldly tells the murderers of Christ, God hath 
 made that same Jesus, ivhom you crucified, both Lord 
 and Christ, Acts. ii. 36. and exalted him, with his own 
 
 * Pluribus persuasio Inerat, antiquis saccrdotum Uteris contineri, eo 
 ipso tempore fore, ut valescerat oriens, profectique Judea rerum poti- 
 rentur. Tacit. Hist. 1. 5. p. 621. 
 
 f Percrebuerat oriente toto vetus & constans opinio, efle in fatis, nt 
 eo tempore Judea profecti rerum podrentur. Suet, in Vesp. c. 4. 
 
 The sameness of the expectation is remarkably evident, from the 
 sameness of the words in which these two historians express it. Judea 
 profecti rerum potirentur. It was not only a common expectation, but 
 it was commonly, expressed in the same language.
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 243 
 
 right hand, to be a Prince duel a Saviour. Acts v. 31. 
 And St. Paul repeatedly represents him as advanced far 
 above principality, and pozver, and mighty and dominion \ 
 and every name that is named, not only in this world, 
 but also in that which is to come: and that God hath 
 put all things under his feet, and given him to be the 
 head over all things to his church. Eph. i. 81, 2. Phil, 
 ij. g 1 1, Yea, to him all the hosts of heaven, and even 
 the whole creation in concert, ascribe power and 
 strength, and honour and glory. Rev. v. 12. Pilate 
 the heathen was overruled to give a kind of accidental 
 testimony to this truth, and to publish it to different 
 nations, by the inscription upon the cross in the three 
 languages then most in use, the Latin, Greek, and 
 Hebrew : This is Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the 
 Jews: and all the remonstrances of the Jews could 
 not prevail upon him to alter it. Finally, it is he 
 that wears upon his vesture, and upon his thigh, this 
 name written, King of kings, and Lord of lords, Rev. 
 xix. 16. and as his name is, so is he. 
 
 Thus you see, my brethren, by these instances, se- 
 lected out of many, that the kingly character and 
 dominion of our Lord Jesus runs through the whole 
 Bible. That of a King is his favourite character in 
 which he glories, and which is the most expressive of 
 his office. And this consideration alone may convince 
 you that this character is of the greatest importance, 
 and worthy of your most attentive regard. 
 
 It is the mediatorial kingdom of Christ that is here 
 intended, not that which as God he exercises over all 
 the works of his hand: it is that kingdom which is an 
 empire of grace, an administration of mercy over our 
 guiltv world. It is the dispensation intended for the 
 salvation of fallen sinners of our race by the gospel; 
 and on this account the gospel is often called the king- 
 dom of heaven; because its happy consequences are 
 not confined to this earth, but appear in heaven in the 
 highest perfection, and last through all eternity. Hence, 
 not only the church of Christ on earth, and the dis- 
 pensation of the gospel, but all the saints in heaven, 
 and that more finished occonomy under which they are 
 placed, are all included in the kingdom of Christ. 
 
 U 2
 
 244 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 Here his kingdom is in its infancy, but in heaven is 
 arrived to perfection ; but it is substantially the same. 
 Though the immediate design of this kingdom is the 
 salvation of believers of the guilty race of man, and 
 such are its subjects in a peculiar sense ; yet it extends 
 to all worlds, to heaven, and earth, and hell. The 
 whole universe is put under a mediatorial head; but 
 then, as the apostle observes, he is made head over all 
 things to his church. Eph. i. 22. that is, for the benefit 
 and salvation of his church. As Mediator he is carry- 
 ing on a glorious scheme for the recovery of man, and 
 all parts of the universe are interested or concern them- 
 selves in this grand event ; and therefore they are all 
 subjected to him, that he may so manage them as to 
 promote this end, and baffle and overwhelm all oppo- 
 sition. The elect angels rejoice in so benevolent a 
 design for peopling their mansions, left vacant by the 
 fall of so many of their fellow-angels, with colonies 
 transplanted from our world, from a race of creatures 
 that they had given up for lost. And therefore Christ, 
 as a Mediator, is made the head of all the heavenly 
 armies, and he employs them as his mini-string spirits, 
 to minister to them that are heirs of salvation. Heb. i. 
 14. These glorious creatures are always on the wing 
 ready to discharge his orders in any part of his vast 
 empire, and delight to be employed in the services of 
 his mediatorial kingdom. This is also an event in 
 which the fallen angels deeply interest themselves ; they 
 have united all their force and art for near six thou- 
 sand years to disturb and subvert his kingdom, and 
 blast the designs of redeeming love; they therefore are 
 all subjected to the controul of Christ, and he shortens 
 and lengthens their chains as he pleases, and they can- 
 not go an hair's breadth beyond his permission. The 
 scriptures represent our world in its state of guilt and 
 misery as the kingdom of Satan: sinners, while slaves 
 to sin, are his subjects; and every act of disobedience 
 against God is an act of homage to this infernal prince. 
 Hence Satan is called the God of this world, 2 Cor. iv. 
 4. ; the prince of this world, John xii. 31 ; the power 
 of darkness, Luke xxii. 53.; the prince of the poxver of 
 the air, the Spirit that jwiv worketh in the children of
 
 Sz rm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 245 
 
 disobedience. Eph. ii. 3. And sinners are said to be 
 taken captive by him at his will. 2 Tim. ii. %6. Hence 
 also the ministers of Christ, who are employed to re- 
 cover sinners to a state of holiness and happiness, are 
 represented as soldiers armed for war ; not indeed with 
 carnal weapons, but with those which are spiritual, 
 plain truth arguments, and miracles ; and these are 
 made mighty through God to the pulling down of strong 
 holds, casting down imaginations, and every high thing 
 that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and 
 bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience 
 of Christ. l 2 Cor. x. 3, 4, 5. And christians in general 
 are represented as zcrestling, not with flesh and blood, 
 but against principalities, against powers, against the 
 rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual 
 wickednesses in high places. Eph. vi. 12. Hence also 
 in particular it is that the death of Christ is represented 
 not as a defeat, but as an illustrious conquest gained 
 over the powers of hell; because, by this means a way 
 was opened for the deliverance of sinners from under 
 their power, and restoring them into liberty and the 
 favour of God. By that strange contemptible wea- 
 pon, the cross, and by the glorious resurrection of 
 Jesus, he spoiled principalities and poxvers, and made 
 a shew of them openly, triumphing over them. Col. ii. 
 15. 1'h rough death, says the apostle, he destroyed him 
 that had the power of death , that is, the devil. Heb. 
 ii. 14. Had not Christ by his death offered a propitia- 
 tory sacrifice for the sins of men, they would have 
 continued for ever under the tyranny of Satan; but 
 he has purchased liberty, life, and salvation for them; 
 and thus he hath destroyed the kingdom of darkness, 
 and translated multitudes from it into his own gracious 
 and glorious kingdom. 
 
 Hence, upon the right of redemption, his mediatorial 
 authority extends to the infernal regions, and he con- 
 trouls and restrains those malignant, mighty, and tur- 
 bulent potentates, according to his pleasure. Farther, 
 the inanimate world is connected with our Lord's de- 
 sign to save sinners, and therefore is subjected to him 
 as Mediator. He causes the sun to rise, the rain to 
 fall, and the earth to yield her increase to furnish pro- 
 It 3
 
 246" The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 vision for the subjects of his grace, and to raise, sup- 
 port, and accommodate heirs for his heavenly kingdom. 
 As for the sons of men, who are more immediately 
 concerned in this kingdom, and for whose sake it was 
 erected, they are all its subjects; but then they are of 
 different sorts, according to their characters. Multi- 
 tudes are rebels against his government ; that is, they 
 do not voluntarily submit to his authority, nor chuse 
 they to do his service : they will not obey his laws. 
 But they are his subjects notwithstanding ; that is, he 
 rules and manages them as he pleases, whether they 
 will or not. This power is necessary to carry on suc- 
 cessfully his gracious design towards his people ; for 
 unless he had the management of his enemies, they 
 might baffle his undertaking, and successfully counter- 
 act the purposes of his love. The kings of the earth, 
 as well as vulgar rebels of a private character, have 
 often set themselves against his kingdom, and some- 
 times they have flattered themselves they had entirely 
 demolished it*. But Jesus reigns absolute and supreme 
 over the kings of the earth, and overrules and con- 
 trouls them as he thinks proper ; and he disposes all 
 the revolutions, the rises and falls of kingdoms and 
 empires, so as to be subservient to the great designs of 
 his mediation; and their united policies and powers 
 cannot frustrate the work which he has undertaken. 
 But besides these rebellious involuntary subjects, he 
 has (blessed be his name!) gained the consent of 
 thousands, and they have become his willing subjects 
 by their own choice. They regard his authority, they 
 love his government, they make it their study to please 
 him, and to do his will. Over these he exercises a 
 government of special grace here, and he will make 
 them the happy subjects of the kingdom of his glory 
 hereafter. And it is his government over these that I 
 intend more particularly to consider. Once more, the 
 kingdom of Jesus is not confined to this world, but all 
 the millions of mankind in the invisible world arc 
 
 * In the 10th and last Roman persecution, Dinchsian had a medal 
 .struck with this inscription, " The christian name demolished, and the 
 worship of the gods restored."
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 247 
 
 under his dominion, and will continue so to everlasting 
 ages. He is the Lord of the dead and the living. Rom. 
 xiv. 9. and has the keys of Hades, the vast invisible 
 world (including heaven as well as hell) and of death. 
 Rev. i. 18. It is he that turns the key, and opens the 
 door of death for mortals to pass from world to world : 
 it is he that opens the gates of heaven, and welcomes 
 and admits the nations that keep the commandments 
 of God : and it is he that opens the prison of hell, and 
 locks it fast upon the prisoners of divine justice. He 
 will for ever exercise authority over the vast regions of 
 the unseen world, and the unnumbered multitudes of 
 spirits with which they are peopled. You hence see, 
 iny brethren, the universal extent of the Redeemer's 
 kingdom ; and in this respect how much does it differ 
 from all the kingdoms of the earth ! The kingdoms of 
 Great Britain, France, China, Persia, are but little spots 
 of the globe. Our world has indeed been oppressed in 
 former times with what mortals call universal monar- 
 chies ; such were the Babylonian, the Persian, the 
 Grecian, and especially the Roman. But in truth, 
 these were so far from being strictly universal, that a 
 considerable part of the habitable earth was not so 
 much as known to them. But this is an empire strictly 
 universal. It extends over land and sea; it reaches 
 beyond the planetary worlds, and all the luminaries of 
 heaven ; nay, beyond the throne of the most exalted 
 archangels, and downward to the lowest abyss in hell. 
 An universal empire in the hands of a mortal is an 
 huge, unwieldy thing; an heap of confusion; a burden 
 to mankind; and it has always rushed headlong from 
 its glory, and fallen to pieces by its own weight. But 
 Jesus is equal to the immense province of an empire 
 strictly universal : his hand is able to hold the reins; 
 and it is the blessing of our world to be under his 
 administration. He will turn what appears to us scenes 
 of confusion into perfect order, and convince all worlds 
 that he has not taken one wrong step in the whole plan 
 of his infinite government. 
 
 The kingdoms of the world have their laws and 
 ordinances, and so has the kingdom of Christ. Look 
 into your Bibles, and there you will find the laws of 
 
 114
 
 248 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10* 
 
 this kingdom, from its first foundation immediately 
 upon the fall of man. The laws of human governments 
 are often defective or unrighteous; but these are per- 
 fect, holy, just, and good. Human laws are enforced 
 with sanctions ; but the rewards and punishments can 
 only affect our mortal bodies, and cannot reach beyond 
 the present life: but the sanctions of these divine laws 
 are eternal, and there never shall be an end to their 
 execution. Everlasting happiness and everlasting mi- 
 sery, of the most exquisite kind and the highest degree, 
 are the rewards and punishments which the immortal 
 King distributes among his immortal subjects; and 
 they become his character, and are adapted to their 
 nature. 
 
 Human laws extend only to outward actions, but 
 these laws reach the heart, and the principle of action 
 within. Not a secret thought, not a motion of the 
 soul, is exempted from them. If the subjects of 
 earthly kings observe a decorum in their outward con- 
 duct, and give no visible evidence of disloyalty, they 
 are treated as good subjects, though they should be 
 enemies in their hearts. " But Jesus is the Lord of 
 souls ;" he makes his subjects bow their hearts as well as 
 the knee to him. He sweetly commands their thoughts 
 and affections as well as their external practice, and 
 makes himself inwardly beloved as well as outwardly 
 obeyed. His subjects are such on whom he may de- 
 pend : they are all ready to lay down their lives for 
 him. Love, cordial, unfeigned, ardent love, is the 
 principle of all their obedience ; and hence it is that his 
 commandments are not grievous, but delightful to 
 them. 
 
 Other kings have their ministers and officers of state. 
 In like manner Jesus employs the armies of heaven as 
 ministring spirits in his mediatorial kindom : besides 
 these he hasministers, of an humbler form, who negoti- 
 ate more immediately in his name with mankind. These 
 are intrusted with the ministry of reconciliation, to be- 
 seech men, in his stead, to be reconciled to God. These 
 are appointed to preach his word, to administer his 
 ordinances, to manage the affairs of his kingdom. 
 This view gives a peculiar dignity and importance \Qt
 
 Serji. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ 49 
 
 this office. These should be adorned, not like the 
 ministers of earthly courts, with the trappings of gold 
 and silver ; but with the beauties of holiness, the orna- 
 ment of a meek and a quiet, zealous and faithful spirit, 
 and a life becoming the gospel of Christ. 
 
 Other kings have their soldiers : so all the legions of 
 the elect angels, the armies of heaven, are the soldiers 
 of Jesus Christ, and under his command. This he 
 asserted when he was in such defenceless circumstances, 
 that he seemed to be abandoned by heaven and earth. 
 " I could pray to my Father, says he, and he would 
 send me more than twelve legions of angels.'" Matt. xxvi. 
 53. I cannot forbear reading to you one of the most 
 majestic descriptions of this all-conquering hero and 
 bis army, which the language of mortality is capable 
 of. Rev. xix. 11, It). / sazv heaven open, says St. 
 John, and behold a white horse, an emblem of victory 
 and triumph, and he that sat upon him was called 
 Faithful and True. How different a character from 
 that of mortal conquerors ! " And in righteousness 
 he doth judge and make war." War is generally a 
 scene of injustice and lawless violence; and those 
 plagues of mankind we call heroes and warriors, use 
 their arms to gratify their own avarice or ambition, and 
 make encroachments upon others. Jesus the Prince of 
 peace makes war too, but it is in righteousness; it is 
 in the cause of righteousness he takes up arms. The 
 divine description proceeds; His eyes were as a flame 
 of fire; and on his head were many croxvns, emblems 
 of his manifold authority over the various kingdoms of 
 the world, and the various regions of the universe. 
 And he was clothed with a vesture dipt in blood, in the 
 blood of his enemies; and his name was called The 
 Hard of God: and the armies which were in heaven 
 followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, 
 white and clean: the whitest innocence and purity, 
 and the beauties of holiness are, as it were, the uniform, 
 the regimentals of these celestial armies. And out of 
 his mouth goctlt a .sharp uxoord, that with it he should 
 smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod 
 c<) iron; and he t rcudeth the wine press of the ficrce- 
 ticss and wrath of Almighty God , and he hath on his
 
 250 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Srm. 10. 
 
 vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of kings, 
 and Lord of lords. In what manner the war is carried 
 on hetween the armies of heaven and the powers of 
 hell, we know not ; but that there is really something 
 of this kind, we may infer from llev. xii. 7, 9. There 
 was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought 
 against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his 
 angels, and prevailed not, neither was there place J ound 
 any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast 
 out, that old serpent called the Devil and Satan. 
 
 Thus you see all the hosts of heaven are volunteers 
 under the Captain of our salvation. Nay, he marshals 
 the stars, and calls them by their names. The stars in 
 their courses, says the sublime Deborah, fought against 
 Sisera, the enemy of God's people. Judges v. 20. 
 Every part of the creation serves under him, and he 
 can commission a gnat, or a fly, or the meanest insect, 
 to be the executioner of his enemies. Fire and water, 
 hurricanes and earthquakes; earthquakes which have 
 so lately shattered so great a part of our globe, now 
 tottering with age, and ready to fall to pieces, and 
 bury the guilty inhabitants in its ruins, all these fight 
 under him, and conspire to avenge his quarrel with the 
 guilty sons of men. The subjects of his grace in par- 
 ticular are all so many soldiers; their life is a constant 
 warfare; and they are incessantly engaged in hard 
 conflict with temptations from without, and the insur- 
 rections of sin from within. Sometimes, alas ! they 
 fall; but their General lifts them up again, and inspires 
 them with strength to renew the fight. They fight 
 most successfully upon their knees. This is the most 
 advantageous posture for the soldiers of Jesus Christ ; 
 for prayer brings down recruits from heaven in the 
 hour of difficulty. They are indeed but poor weak- 
 lings and invalids; and yet they overcome, through 
 the blood of the Lamb; and he makes them conquerors, 
 yea more than conquerors. It is the military character 
 of christians that gives the apostle occasion to address 
 them in the military stile, like a general at the head of 
 his army. Eph. vi. 10 18. Be strong in the Lord, 
 and in the power of his might. Put on the xvhole ar- 
 toour of God, thai ye may be able to stand against the
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 251 
 
 wiles of the devil. Stand therefore, having your loins 
 girt about tilth truth, and having on the breast-plate 
 of righteousness, and your feet shod with the prepara- 
 tion of the gospel of peace ; above all, taking the shield 
 of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the 
 fiery darts of the nicked. And take the helmet of sal- 
 vation, and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of 
 God, praying always with all prayer and supplication* 
 The ministers of the gospel in particular, and especially 
 the apostles, are soldiers, or officers, in this spiritual 
 army. Hence St. Paul speaks of his office, in the 
 military stile; / have, says he, fought the good fight \ 
 2 Tim. iv. 7. JVe rear, says he, though it be not after 
 the flesh. The humble doctrines of the cross are our 
 weapons, and these are mighty through God, to demo- 
 lish the strong holds of the prince of darkness, and to 
 bring every thought into a joyful captivity to the obe- 
 dience of faith. 2 Cor. x. 3 5. Fight the good fight, 
 says he to Timothy. 1 Tim. vi. 12; and again, thou 
 therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ. 2 Tim. ii. 3. The great design of the gospel- 
 ministry is to rescue enslaved souls from the tyranny 
 of sin and Satan, and to recover them into a state of 
 liberty and loyalty to Jesus Christ ; or, in the words of 
 the apostle, to turn them from darkness to light, and 
 from the power of Satan unto God. Acts xxvi. 18. 
 Mortals indeed are very unequal for the conflict ; but 
 their success more conspicuously shews that the excel- 
 lency of the power is of God : and many have they 
 subdued, through his strength, to the obedience of 
 faith, and made the willing captives of the cross of 
 our divine Kmmanuel. Other kingdoms are often 
 founded in blood, and many lives are lost on both sides 
 in acquiring them. The kingdom of Christ, too, was 
 founded in blood ; but it was the blood of bis own 
 heart: life was lost in the conflict; but it was his own; 
 his own life lost, to purchase life for his people. Others 
 have waded to empire through the blood of mankind, 
 and even of their own subjects, but Christ shed only 
 his own blood to spare 1 that of his soldiers. The gene- 
 ral devotes his life as a sacrifice to save his army. The 
 J'abii and Deeii of Home, who devoted themselves for
 
 252 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 their country, were but faint shadows of this divine 
 bravery. O ! the generous patriotism, the ardent love 
 of the Captain of our salvation ! How amiable does 
 his character appear, in contrast with that of the kings 
 of the earth! They often sacrifice the lives of their 
 subjects, while they keep themselves out of danger, or 
 perhaps are rioting at ease in the pleasures and luxuries 
 of a court; but Jesus engaged in the conflict with 
 death and hell alone. He stood a single champion in 
 the field of blood. He conquered for his people by 
 falling himself: he subdued his and their enemies by 
 resigning himself to their power. Worthy is such a 
 general to be Commander in Chief of the hosts of 
 God, and to lead the armies of heaven and earth ! 
 Indeed much blood has been shed in carrying on this 
 kingdom. The earth has been soaked with the blood 
 of the saints; and millions have resisted even unto 
 blood, striving against sin, and nobly laid down their 
 lives for the sake of Christ and a good conscience. 
 Rome has been remarkably the seat of persecution ; 
 both formerly under the Heathen Emperors, and in 
 latter times, under a succession of Popes, still more 
 bloody and tyrannical. There were no less than ten 
 general persecutions under the Heathen Emperors, 
 through the vast Roman empire, in a little more than 
 two hundred years, which followed one another in a 
 close succession ; in which innumerable multitudes of 
 christians lost their lives by an endless variety of tor- 
 tures. And since the church of Rome has usurped h r 
 authority, the blood of the saints has hardly ev^r 
 ceased running in some country or other; though, 
 blessed be God, many kingdoms shook off the yoke 
 at the ever-memorable period of the Reformation, 
 above two hundred years ago; which has greatly weak- 
 ened that persecuting power. This is that mystical 
 Rabylon which was represented to St. John as drunken 
 with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the 
 martyrs of Jesus. Rev. xvii. 6. In her was found the 
 blood of the prophets, and of the saints, and of all 
 that were slain upon the earth, ch. xviii. <24. And 
 these scenes of blood are still perpetrated in France, 
 that plague of Europe, that has of late stretched her
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 2J3 
 
 murderous arm across the wide ocean to disturb us in 
 these regions of peace. There the Protestants are still 
 plundered, chained to the gallics, broken alive upon the 
 torturing wheel, denied the poor favour of abandoning 
 their country and their all, and flying naked to beg 
 their bread in other nations. Thus the harmless sub- 
 jects of the Prince of Peace have ever been slaughtered 
 from age to age, and yet they are represented as trium- 
 phant conquerors. Hear a poor persecuted Paul on 
 this head: /// tribulation, in distress, in persecution, in 
 nakedness, in peril and szvord, we are conquerors, we 
 are more than conquerors, through him that loved us. 
 Rom. viii. 36, 37. Thanks be to God who always 
 causeth us to triumph in Christ. 2 Corinthians, ii. 14. 
 f Whatsoever is born of God, says the Evangelist, over- 
 cometh the world. 1 John v. 4. Whence came that 
 glorious army which we so often see in the Revelation ? 
 We are told, they came out of great tribulation, ch. 
 vii. 14. And they overcame by the blood of the Lamb, 
 and by the word of their testimony ; and they loved not 
 their lives unto the death, ch. xii. 11. They that suf- 
 fered tortures and death unto the beast, are said to 
 have gotten the victory over him. ch. xv. 2. Victory 
 and triumph sound strange when thus ascribed ; but 
 the gospel helps us to understand this mystery. By 
 these sufferings they obtained the illustrious crown of 
 martyrdom, and peculiar degrees of glory and happiness 
 through an endless duration. Their death was but a 
 short transition from the lowest and more remote regions 
 of their Redeemer's kingdom into his immediate pre- 
 sence and glorious court in heaven. A temporal death 
 is rewarded with an immortal life; and their light 
 afflictions, which were but fur a moment, wrought out 
 for them a Jar more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory. c 2 Cor. iv. 17. Even in the agonies of torture 
 their souls were often filled with such delightful sensa- 
 tions of the love of God, as swallowed up the sensa- 
 tions of bodily pain ; and a bed of flames was sweeter 
 to them than a bed of roses. Their souls were beyond 
 the reach of all the instruments of torment ; and as to 
 their bodies they shall yet have a glorious resurrection 
 to a blessed immortality. And now 1 leave you to
 
 254 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 judge, whether they or their enemies got the victory in 
 this conflict; and which had most cause to triumph* 
 Like their master, they rose hy falling; they triumphed 
 over their enemies by submitting, like lambs, to their 
 power. If the soldiers of other generals die in the 
 field, it is not in the power of their commanders to 
 reward them. But the soldiers of Jssus Christ by 
 dying, are, as it were, carried in triumph from the field 
 of blood into the presence of their Master, to receive 
 his approbation, and a glorious crown. Death puts 
 them into a capacity of receiving and enjoying greater 
 rewards than they are capable of in the present state. 
 And thus it appears, that his soldiers always win the 
 da} r ; or, as the apostle expresses it, he causes them al- 
 ways to triumph; and not one of them has ever been 
 or ever shall be defeated, however weak and helpless in 
 himself, and however terrible the power of his enemies. 
 And O ! when all these warriors meet at length from 
 every corner of the earth, and, as it were, pass in re- 
 view before their General in the fields of heaven, with 
 their robes washed in his blood, with palms of victory 
 in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads, all 
 dressed in uniform with garments of salvation, what a 
 glorious army will they make ! and how will they cause 
 heaven to ring with shouts of joy and triumph ! 
 
 The founders of earthly kingdoms are famous for 
 their heroic actions. They have braved the dangers 
 of sea and land, routed powerful armies, and subjected 
 nations to their will. They have shed rivers of blood, 
 laid cities in ruins, and countries in desolation. These 
 are the exploits which have rendered the Alexanders, 
 the Caesars, and other conquerors of this world, fa- 
 mous through all nations and ages. Jesus had his 
 exploits too; but they were all of the gracious and 
 beneficent kind. His conquests were so many deli- 
 verances, and his victories salvations. He subdued, 
 in order to set free; and made captives to deliver 
 them from slavery. He conquered the legions of 
 hell, that seemed let loose at that time, that he 
 might have opportunity of displaying his power over 
 them, and that mankind might be sensible how 
 much they needed a deliverer from their tyranny.*
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. Q55 
 
 He triumphed over the temptations of Satan in the 
 wilderness, by a quotation from his own word. He 
 rescued wretched creatures from his power by an al- 
 mighty command. He conquered the most invete- 
 rate and stubborn diseases, and restored health and 
 vigour with a word of his mouth. He vanquished 
 stubborn souls with the power of his love, and made 
 them his willing people. He triumphed over death, 
 the king of terrors, and delivered Lazarus from the 
 prison of the grave, as an earnest and first-fruits of a 
 general resurrection. Nay, by his own inherent 
 powers he broke the bonds of death, and forced his 
 way to his native heaven, lie destroyed him that 
 had the power of death, i. e. the devil, by his own 
 death, and laid the foundation in his own blood for 
 destroying his usurped kingdom, and forming a glo- 
 rious kingdom of willing subjects redeemed from his 
 tyranny. 
 
 The death of some great conquerors, particularly 
 of Julius Caesar, is said to be prognosticated, or at- 
 tended with prodigies : but none equal to those 
 which solemnized the death of Jesus. The earth 
 trembled, the rocks were burst to pieces, the vail of 
 the temple was rent, the heavens were clothed in mour- 
 ning, and the dead started into life. And no wonder, 
 when the Lord of nature was expiring upon a cross. 
 He subdued and calmed the stormy wind, and the bois- 
 terous waves of the sea. In short, he shewed an ab- 
 solute sovereignty over universal nature, and managed 
 the most unruly elements with a single word. Other 
 conquerors have gone from country to country, carry- 
 ing desolation along with them; Jesus went about 
 doing good. His miraculous powers were but powers 
 of miraculous mercy and beneficence. lie could easily 
 have advanced himself to a temporal kingdom, and 
 routed all the forces of the: earth; but he had no am- 
 bition of this kind. He that raised Lazarus from the 
 grave could easily restore his soldiers to vigour and 
 life, after they had been wounded or killed. He that 
 fed rive thousand with live loaves and two fishes, could 
 have supported his army with plenty of provision in 
 the greatest scarcity. He that walked upon the bois-
 
 25(? The Mediatorial Kingdom and Se'rm. 10, 
 
 terous ocean, and enabled Peter to do the same, could 
 easily have transported his forces from country to coun- 
 try, without the conveyance o^ ships. Nay, he was 
 capable by his own single power to have gained uni- 
 versal conquest. What could all the armies of the 
 earth have done against him, who struck an armed 
 company down to the earth with only a word of his 
 mouth? But these were not the victories he affected: 
 Victories of grace, deliverances for the oppressed, sal- 
 vation for the lost ; these M'ere his heroic actions. He 
 glories in his being mighty to save. Isaiah Ixiii. 1. 
 When his warm disciples made a motion that he should 
 employ his miraculous powers to punish the Samaritans 
 who uiieratcfullv refused him entertainment, he re- 
 buked them, and answered like the Prince of Peace, 
 The Son of man is not come to destroy mens lives, but 
 to save. Luke ix. 56. He came to seek and to save 
 that which was tost. Luke xix. 10. O how amiable a 
 character this ! How much more lovely the Saviour of 
 sinners, the Deliverer of souls, than the enslavers and 
 destroyers of mankind ; which is the general character 
 of the renowned heroes of our world? Who has ever 
 performed such truly heroic and brave actions as this 
 almighty conqueror? He has pardoned the most ag- 
 gravated crimes, in a consistency with the honours of 
 the divine government : he has delivered an innumera- 
 ble multitude of immortal souls from the tyranny of 
 sin and the powers of hell, set the prisoners free, and 
 brought them into the libertv of the Son of God: he 
 has peopled heaven with redeemed slaves, and advan- 
 ced them to royal dignity. All his subjects are kings. 
 Rev. i. 6*. To him that overcometh, says he, will I 
 grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also over- 
 came, and am set down with my Father in his throne. 
 Rev. iii. 21. They shall all be adorned with royal 
 ro'jes and crowns of unfading glory. They are advan- 
 ced to empire over their lusts and passions, and all their 
 enemies. Who ever gave such encouragement to his 
 soldiers as this, Jf we suffer with him, we know we 
 shall also reign with him. 2 Tim. ii. 12. WiS.it mortal 
 general could bestow immortality and perfect happiness 
 upon his favourites? But these boundless blessings
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 257 
 
 Jesus has to bestow. In human governments merit is 
 often neglected, and those who serve their country best 
 are often rewarded with degradation. But none have 
 ever served the King of kings in vain. The least 
 good action, even the giving a cup of water to one 
 of his necessitous saints, shall not pass unrewarded in 
 his government. 
 
 Other kings have their arms, their swords, their 
 cannon, and other instruments of destruction ; and 
 with these they acquire and defend their dominions. 
 Jesus, our king, has his arms too, but O ! of how 
 different a kind ! The force of evidence and convic- 
 tion in his doctrine, attested with miracles, the energy 
 of his dying love, the gentle, and yet efficacious influ- 
 ence of his holy spirit; these are the weapons with 
 which he conquered the world. His gospel is the 
 great magazine from whence his apostles, the first 
 founders of his kingdom, drew their arms ; and with 
 these they subdued the nations to the obedience of 
 faith. The gospel, says St. Paul, is the pozver of God 
 unto salvation. Rom. i. 16*. The humble doctrines of 
 the cross became almighty, and bore down all before 
 them, and after a time subdued the vast Roman em- 
 pire which had subdued the world. The holy spirit 
 gave edge and force to these weapons ; and, blessed be 
 God, though they are quite impotent without his as- 
 sistance, yet when he concurs they are still success- 
 ful. Many stubborn sinners have been unable to resist 
 the preaching of Christ crucified : they have found 
 him indeed the power of God. And is it not astonish- 
 ing that any one should be able to stand it out against 
 his dying love, and continue the enemy of his cross ? 
 /, says he, if I be lifted up from the earth, i. e. if I 
 be suspended on the cross, will draw all men unto me. 
 John xii. 3 C 2. You see he expected his cross would be 
 an irresistible weapon. And O ! blessed Jesus, who 
 can see thee expiring there in agonies of torture and 
 love; who can see thy blood gushing in streams from 
 every vein, who can hear thee groaning there, and not 
 melt into submission at thy feet ! Is there one heart 
 in this assembly proof against the energy of this bleed- 
 ing, agonizing, dying love ? Methinks such a sight 
 
 Vol. I. S
 
 258 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. ]0. 
 
 must kindle a correspondent affection in your hearts 
 towards him ; and it is an exploit of wickedness, it is 
 the last desperate effort of an impenetrable heart, to be 
 able to resist. 
 
 Other conquerors march at the head of their troops, 
 with all the ensigns of power and grandeur, and their 
 forces numerous, inured to war, and well armed : and 
 from such appearances and preparations who is there 
 but what expects victory ? But see the despised Na- 
 zarene, without riches, without arms, without forces, 
 conflicting with the united powers of earth and hell ; 
 or see a company of poor fishermen and a tent-maker, 
 with no other powers but those of doing good, with no 
 other arms but those of reason, and the strange un- 
 popular doctrines of a crucified Christ ! see the pro- 
 fessed followers of a master that was hung like a male- 
 factor and a slave, see these men marching out to 
 encounter the powers of darkness, the whole strength 
 of the Roman empire, the lusts, prejudices, and interests 
 of all nations, and travelling from country to country, 
 without guards, without friends, exposed to insult and 
 contempt, to the rage of persecution, to all manner 
 of torture and tormented deaths which earth or hell 
 could invent: see this little army marching into the 
 wide world, in these circumstances, and can you expect 
 they will have any success ? Does this appear a pro- 
 mising expedition ? No ; human reason would fore- 
 bode they will soon be cut in pieces, and the christian 
 cause buried with them. But these unpromising cham- 
 pions, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, conquered the 
 world, and spread the religion of the crucified Jesus 
 among all nations. It is true they lost their lives in 
 the cause, like brave soldiers; but the cause did not 
 die with them. Their blood proved the seed of the 
 church. Their cause is immortal and invincible. Let 
 devils in hell, let Heathens, Jews, and Mahometans, let 
 Atheists, Free-thinkers, Papists, and persecutors of 
 every character do their worst; still this cause will live 
 in spite of them. All the enemies of Christ will be 
 obliged to confess at last, with Julian the apostate 
 Roman emperor, who exerted all his art to abolish 
 Christianity ; but, when mortally wounded in battle, 
 outrageously sprinkled his blood towards heaven, and
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 259 
 
 cried out, Vicisti, O Galihee ; " Thou hast conquered, 
 O Galilean." Yes, my brethren, Jesus, the Prophet of 
 Galilee, will pursue his conquests from country to 
 country, until all nations submit to him. And, blessed 
 be his name, his victorious arm has reached to us in 
 these ends of the earth : here he has subdued some 
 obstinate rebels, and made their reluctant souls wil- 
 lingly bow in affectionate homage to him. And may I 
 not produce some of you as the trophies of his victory? 
 Has he not rooted out the enmity of your carnal minds, 
 and sweetly constrained you to the most affectionate 
 obedience ? Thus, blessed Jesus ! thus go on conquer- 
 ing, and to conquer. Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, 
 O most mighty, and in thy glory and majesty ride pros- 
 perously through our land, and make this country a 
 dutiful province of the dominion of thy grace. My 
 brethren, should we all become his willing subjects, he 
 would no longer suffer the perfidious slaves of France, 
 and their savage allies, to chastise and punish us for 
 our rebellion against him; but peace should again run 
 down like a river, and righteousness like a mighty 
 stream. 
 
 The kingdoms of the world have their rise, their 
 progress, perfection, declension, and ruin. And in 
 these things, the kingdom of Christ bears some re- 
 semblance to them, excepting that it shall never have 
 an end. 
 
 Its rise was small at first, and it has passed through 
 many revolutions in various ages. It was first founded 
 in the family of Adam, but in about 1600 years, the 
 space between the creation and the flood, it was almost 
 demolished by the wickedness of the world; and at 
 length confined to the little family of Noah. After 
 the flood, the world soon fell into idolatry, but, that 
 this kingdom of Christ might not be destroyed quite, 
 it was erected in the family of Abraham; and among 
 the Jews it continued until the coming of Christ in 
 the flesh. This was indeed but the infancy of his 
 kingdom, and indeed is seldom called by that name. 
 It is the gospel constitution that is represented as the 
 kingdom of Christ, in a special sense. This was but 
 very small and unpromising at first. When its rounder 
 
 S2
 
 260 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm. 10. 
 
 was dying upon Calvary, and all his followers had for- 
 saken him and fled, who would have thought it would 
 ever have come to any thing, ever have recovered ? 
 But it revived with him ; and, when he furnished his 
 apostles with gifts and graces for their mission, and 
 sent them forth to increase his kingdom, it made its 
 progress through the world with amazing rapidity, not- 
 withstanding it met Avith very early and powerful 
 opposition. The Jews set themselves against it, and 
 raised persecutions against its ministers, wherever they 
 went. And presently the tyrant Nero employed all 
 the power of the Roman empire to crush them. Peter, 
 Paul, and thousands of the christians fell a prey to his 
 rage, like sheep for the slaughter. This persecution 
 was continued under his successors, with but little in* 
 terruption, for about two hundred years. 
 
 Bur, under all these pressures, the church bore up 
 her head ; yea, the more she was trodden, the more 
 she spread and flourished ; and at length she was deli- 
 vered from oppression by Constantine the Great, about 
 the year 320. But now she had a more dangerous 
 enemy to encounter, I mean prosperity: and this did 
 her much more injury than all the persecutions of her 
 enemies. Now the kingdom of Christ began to be 
 corrupted with heresies: the ministry of the gospel, 
 formerly the most dangerous posts in the world, now 
 became a place of honour and profit, and men began 
 to thrust themselves into it from principles of avarice 
 and ambition; superstition and corruption of morals 
 increased; and at length the Bishop of Home set up 
 for universal head of the church in the year 606, and 
 gradually the whole monstrous system of popery was 
 formed and established, and continued in force for near 
 a thousand years. The kingdom of Christ was now 
 at a low ebb; and tyranny and .superstition reigned 
 under that name over the greatest part of the christian 
 world. Nevertheless our Lord still had his witnesses. 
 The Waldenses and Albigenses, John ilus, and Jerome 
 of Prague, and Wickliffe in England, opposed the 
 torrent of corruption; until at length, Luther, Calvin, 
 Zuinglius, and several others, were made the honoured 
 instruments of introducing the Reformation from po-
 
 Serm. 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 9.6 1 
 
 perv ; when sundry whole kingdoms, which had given 
 their power to the beast, and particularly our mother- 
 country, shook off the papal authority, and admitted 
 the pure light of the gospel. Since that time the 
 kingdom of Christ has struggled hard, and it has lost 
 ground in several countries; particularly in France, 
 Poland, Bohemia, &c. where there once were many 
 protestant churches; but they are now in ruins. And, 
 alas! those countries that still retain the reformed reli- 
 gion, have too generally reduced it into a mere for- 
 mality ; and it has but little influence upon the hearts 
 and lives even of its professors. Thus we find the case 
 remarkably among us. This gracious kingdom makes 
 but little way in Virginia. The calamities of war and 
 famine cannot, alas ! draw subjects to it; but we seem 
 generally determined to perish in our rebellion rather 
 than submit. Thus it has been in this country from its 
 first settlement; and how long it will continue in this 
 situation is unknown to mortals: however, this we may 
 know, it will not be so always. We have the strongest 
 assurances that Jesus will yet take to him his great 
 power, and reign in a more extensive and illustrious 
 manner than he has ever yet done; and that the king- 
 doms of the earth shall yet become the kingdoms of 
 our Lord and of his Christ. There are various parts 
 of the heathen world where the gospel has never yet 
 been; and the Jews have never yet been converted as 
 a nation; but both the calling of the Jews and the 
 fulness of the Gentiles, you will find plainly foretold 
 in the 1 1th chapter to the Romans; and it is, no doubt, 
 to render the accomplishment or this event the more 
 conspicuous, that the Jews, who are dispersed all over 
 the world, have, by a strange, unprecedented, and 
 singular providence, been kept a distinct people to 
 this day, for 1700 years; though all other nations have 
 been so mixt and blended together, who were not half 
 so much dispersed into different countries, that their 
 distinct original cannot be traced. Posterity shall sec 
 this glorious event in some happy future period. How 
 far it is from us, I will not determine : though, upon, 
 some grounds, I apprehend it is not very remote. I 
 
 S 3
 
 262 The Mediatorial Kingdom and Serm 10 
 
 shall live and die in the unshaken belief that our guilty 
 world shall yet see glorious days. Yes, my brethren, 
 this despised gospel, that has so little effect in our age 
 and country, shall yet shine like lightning, or like 
 the sun, through all the dark regions of the earth. It 
 shall triumph over Heathenism, Mahometism, Judaism, 
 Popery, and all those dangerous errors that have in- 
 fected the christian church. This gospel, poor negroes, 
 shall yet reach your countrymen, whom you left be- 
 hind you in Africa in darkness and the shadow of 
 death, and bless your eyes with the light of salvation : 
 and the Indian savages, that are now ravaging our 
 country, shall yet be transformed into lambs and doves 
 by the gospel of peace. The scheme of Providence is 
 not yet completed, and much remains to be accom- 
 plished of what God has spoken by his prophets, to 
 ripen the world for the universal judgment ; but when 
 all these things are finished, then proclamation shall be 
 made through all nature, " That time shall be no 
 more :" then the Supreme Judge, the same Jesus that 
 ascended the cross, will ascend the throne, and review 
 the affairs of time: then will he put an end to the pre- 
 sent course of nature, and the present form of admini- 
 stration. Then shall heaven and hell be filled with 
 their respective inhabitants: then will time close, and 
 eternity run on in one uniform tenor, without end. 
 But the kingdom of Christ, though altered in its situ- 
 ation and form of government, will not then come to 
 a conclusion. His kingdom is strictly the kingdom of 
 heaven; and at the end of this world, his subjects will 
 only be removed from these lower regions into a more 
 glorious country, where they and their King shall live 
 together for ever in the most endearing intimacy; 
 where the noise and commotions of this restless world, 
 the revolutions and perturbations of kingdoms, the 
 terrors of war and persecution, shall no more reach 
 them; but all will be perfect peace, love, and happi- 
 ness, through immeasurable duration. This is the last 
 and most illustrious state of the kingdom of Christ, 
 now so small and weak in appearance : this is the final 
 grand result of his administration; and it will appear
 
 Serm, 10. Glories of Jesus Christ. 263 
 
 to admiring worlds wisely planned, gloriously executed, 
 and perfectly finished. 
 
 What conqueror ever erected such a kingdom ! What 
 subjects so completely, so lastingly happy, as those of 
 the blessed Jesus ! 
 
 S4
 
 SEMMON XI, 
 Things unseen to be preferred to Things seen. 
 
 2 Cor. iv. 18. 
 
 While we look not at the Things which are seen, but at the Things 
 which are not seen ; for the Things which are seen are temporal : 
 but the Things which are not seen are eternal. 
 
 AMONG all the causes of the stupid unconcerned- 
 edness of sinners about religion, and the feeble 
 endeavours of saints to improve in it, there is none more 
 common or more effectual, than their not forming a due 
 estimate of the things of time in comparison of those* of 
 eternity. Our present affaire engross all our thoughts, 
 and exhaust all our activity, though they are but transi- 
 tory trifles ; while the awful realities of the future world 
 are hid from our eyes by the veil of flesh and the clouds 
 of ignorance. Did these break in upon our minds in all 
 their almighty evidence and tremendous importance, 
 they would annihilate the most majestic vanities of the 
 present state, obscure the glare of earthly glory, render 
 all its pleasures insipid, and give us a noble insensibility 
 under all its sorrows. A realizing view of these would 
 shock the libertine in his thoughtless career, tear off the 
 hypocrite's mask, and inflame the devotion of languishing 
 saints. The concern of mankind would then be how they 
 might make a safe edit out of this world, and not how 
 they may live happy in it. Present pleasure and pain 
 would be swallowed up in the prospect of everlasting hap- 
 piness or misery hereafter. Eternity, awful eternity, 
 would then be our serious contemplation. The pleasures 
 of sin would strike us with horror, if they issue in eter- 
 nal pain, and our present afflictions, however tedious 
 and severe, would appear but light and momentary, 
 if they work out for us ajar more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory. ' -
 
 Serm. 11. Things unseen. 265 
 
 These were the views the apostle had of things, and 
 these their effects upon him. He informs us in this 
 chapter of his unwearied zeal to propagate the gospel 
 amidst all the hardships and dangers that attended the 
 painful discharge of his ministry. Though he bore 
 about in his body the dying of the Lord Jesus, though 
 he was always delivered unto death for Jesus's sake, yet 
 he fainted not ; and this was the prospect that animated 
 him, that his light affliction, which was but for a mo- 
 ment, would work out for him a far more exceeding and 
 eternal Height of glory. When we view his sufferings 
 absolutely, without any reference to eternity, they were 
 very heavy and of many years continuance ; and when 
 he represents them in this view, how moving is the rela- 
 tion ! see 2 Cor. xi. 23 29. But when he views them 
 in the light of eternity, and compared with their glorious 
 issues, they sink into nothing ; then scourging, stoning, 
 imprisonment, and all the various deaths to which he was 
 daily exposed, are but light, trifling afflictions, hardly 
 worth naming ; then a series of uninterrupted sufferings 
 for many years are but afflictions that endure for a 
 moment. And when he views a glorious futurity, hu- 
 man language cannot express the ideas he has of the 
 happiness reserved for him ; it is a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory : a noble sentiment ! and 
 exprest in the sublimest manner the language of mortals 
 can admit of. 
 
 It is glory, in opposition to affliction ; a weight of 
 glory, in opposition to light affliction ; a massy op- 
 pressive blessedness, which it requires all the powers 
 of the soul, in their full exertion, to support : and 
 in opposition to affliction for a moment, it is eternal 
 glory: to finish all, it is a Jar more exceeding glory*. 
 What greater idea can be grasped by the human mind, 
 or exprest in the feeble language of mortality ? Nothing 
 but feeling that weight of glory could enlarge his con- 
 ception ; and nothing but the dialect of heaven could 
 better express it. No wonder that, with this view of 
 
 * The original fir surpasses the best translation. The adjective 
 absolute (to Ihxfyo* zr,: 5x/\J,it3f) is very significant ; and r&x' "vit$p*Q\r. f ; t 
 
 Cvi ,,?'//. i,i h inimitable in our language.
 
 266 Things unseen to be Serm. Jl. 
 
 things, ' he should reckon that the sufferings of the pre- 
 sent life are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
 that shall be revealed.' Rom. viii. 18. 
 
 The apostle observes, that he formed this estimate 
 of things, while he looked not at the " things which 
 are seen, but at those which are not seen." By the 
 things that are seen, are meant the present life, and 
 all the things of time ; all the pleasures and pains, all 
 the labours, pursuits, and amusements of the present 
 state. By the things that are not seen, are intended 
 all the invisible realities of the eternal world ; all the 
 beings, the enjoyments and sufferings that lie beyond the 
 reach of human sight ; as, the great Father of spirits, the 
 joys of paradise, and the punishments of hell. We look on 
 these invisible things, and not on those that are seen. This 
 seems like a contradiction ; but it is easily solved by un- 
 derstanding this act, described by looking, to be the act 
 not of the bodily eye, but of faith and enlightened rea- 
 son. Faith is denned by this apostle to be " the sub- 
 stance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things 
 not seen." Heb. xi. 1. And it is the apostle's chief de- 
 sign in that chapter, to give instances of the surprising 
 efficacy of such a realizing belief of eternal invisible 
 things; see particularly ver. 10, 13, 14, 16, 25, 6, 27. 
 Hence to look not at visible, but at invisible things, sis- 
 nifies that the apostle made the latter the chief objects 
 of his contemplations, that he was governed in the whole 
 of his conduct by the impression of eternal things, and 
 not by the present ; that he formed his maxims and 
 schemes from a comprehensive survey of futurities, and 
 not from a partial view of things present ; and in short, 
 that he acted as an expectant of eternity, and not as an 
 everlasting inhabitant of this wretched world. This he 
 elsewhere expresses in equivalent terms, (! We walk by 
 faith, and not bv sight." 2 Cor. v. 7. 
 
 Further, he assigns a reason why he had a greater 
 regard to invisible things than visible in the regulating 
 of his conduct ; " for the things which are seen are tem- 
 poral ; not but the things which are," says he, " seen are 
 eternal." An important reason indeed! Eternity annexed 
 to a trifle would advance it into infinite importance, but 
 when it is the attribute of the most perfect happiness., or
 
 Seiul 11. preferred to Things seen. %67 
 
 of the most exquisite misery, then it transcends all com- 
 parison : then all temporal happiness and misery, how- 
 ever great and long continued, shrink into nothing, is 
 drowned and lost, like the small drop of a bucket in the 
 boundless ocean. 
 
 My present design, and the contents of the text, pre- 
 scribe to me the following method : 
 
 I. I shall give you a comparative view of visible and 
 invisible things, that vou may see the trifling nature of 
 the one, and the importance of the other. This I 
 choose to do under one head, because by placing these 
 two classes of things in an immediate opposition, we 
 may the more easily compare them, and see their infinite 
 disparity. And, 
 
 II. I shall shew vou the great and happy influence a 
 suitable impression of the superior importance oi'in visible 
 to visible things would have upon us. 
 
 I. I shall give you a comparative view of visible 
 and invisible things; and we may compare visible and 
 invisible things, as to their intrinsic value, and as to their 
 duration. 
 
 1. As to their intrinsic value; and in this respect the 
 disparity is inconceivable. 
 
 This I shall illustrate in the two comprehensive in- 
 stances of pleasure and pain. To shun the one, and 
 obtain the other, is the natural effort of the human mind. 
 This is its. aim in all its endeavours and pursuits. The 
 innate desire of happiness and aversion to misery are the 
 two great springs of all human activity; and, were these 
 springs relaxed or broken, all business would cease, all 
 activity would stagnate, and universal torpor would seize 
 the world. And these principles are co-existent with the 
 soul itself, and will continue in full vigour in a future 
 state. Nay, as the soul will then be matured, and all its 
 powers arrived to their complete perfection, this eager- 
 ness after happiness, and aversion to misery, will be also 
 more quick and vigorous. The soul in its present state 
 of infancy, like a young child, or a man enfeebled and 
 stupified by sickness, is incapable of very deep sensa- 
 tions of pleasure and pain ; and hence an excess of joy, 
 as we!) as sorrow, has sometimes dissolved its feeble 
 union with the body. On this account we are incapable
 
 26*8 Things unseen to be Serji. 11. 
 
 of such degrees of happiness or misery from the things 
 of this world as beings of more lively sensations might 
 receive from them : and much more are we incapable of 
 the happiness or misery of the future world, until we 
 have put on immortality. We cannot see God and live. 
 Should the glory of heaven blaze upon us in all its insu- 
 perable splendor, it would overwhelm our feeble nature; 
 we could not support such a weight of glory. And one 
 twinge of the agonies of hell would dislodge the soul from 
 its earthly mansion : one pang would convulse and stu- 
 pify it, were not its powers strengthened by the separa- 
 tion from the body. But in the future world all the 
 powers of the soul will be mature and strong, and the 
 body will be clothed with immortality ; the union between 
 them after the resurrection will be inseparable, and able 
 to support the most oppressive weight of glory, or the 
 most intolerable load of torment. Hence it follows that 
 pleasure and pain include all that we can desire or fear in 
 the present or future world; and therefore a comparative 
 view of present and future pleasure and pain is sufficient 
 to enable us to form a due estimate of visible and invi- 
 sible things. By present pleasure, I mean all the happi- 
 ness we can receive from present things, as from riches, 
 honours, sensual gratifications, learning, and intellectual 
 improvements, and all the amusements and exercises of 
 this life. And by future pleasure, or the pleasure which 
 results from invisible things, I mean all the fruitions and 
 enjoyments in which heavenly happiness consists. By 
 present pain, I intend all the uneasiness which we can, 
 receive from the things of the present life ; as poverty, 
 losses, disappointments, bereavements, sickness, and 
 bodilv pains. And by future pain, I mean all the pun- 
 ishments of hell ; as, banishment from God, and a priva- 
 tion of all created blessings, the agonizing reflections of 
 a guilty conscience, the horrid company and expro- 
 bations of infernal ghosts, and the torture of infernal 
 flames, 
 
 Now let us put these in the balance, and the one 
 will sink into nothing, and the other rise into infinite im- 
 portance. 
 
 Temporal things are of a contracted nature, and not 
 adequate to the capacities of the human soul; but eter-
 
 Ssbm. 11. preferred to Things seen. 26o 
 
 ml things are great, and capable of communicating all 
 the happiness and misery which it can receive. The soul 
 in its present state is not capable of such degrees of hap- 
 piness and misery as it will be in the future, when it 
 dwells among invisible realities. All that pleasure and 
 pain which we receive from things that are seen, is inter- 
 mingled with some ingredients of a contrary nature; 
 but those proceeding from things that are not seen, are 
 pure and unmingled. 
 
 1. Visible things are not equal to the capacities of 
 the human soul. This little spark of being, the soul, 
 
 which lies obscured in this prison of flesh, gives frequent 
 discoveries of surprising powers : its desires in particular 
 have a kind of infinity. But all temporary objects are 
 mean and contracted ; they cannot afford it a happiness 
 equal to its capacity, nor render it as miserable as its 
 capacity of suffering will bear. Hence, in the greatest 
 affluence of temporal enjoyments, in the midst of honours, 
 pleasures, riches, friends, &c. it still feels a painful 
 void within, and finds an unknown something wanting 
 to complete its happiness. Kings have been unhappy 
 upon their thrones, and all their grandeur have been but 
 majestic misery. So Solomon found it, who had oppor- 
 tunity and curiosity to make the experiment; and this 
 is his verdict upon all earthly enjoyments, after the most 
 impartial trial, " Vanities of vanities" saith the preacher, 
 " Vanity of vanities ; all is vanity and vexation of spirit." 
 On the other hand, the soul may possess some degree of 
 happiness, under all the miseries it is capable of suffering 
 from external and temporal things. Guilt indeed denies 
 it this support; but if there be no intestine broils, no an- 
 guish resulting from its own reflections, not all the visible 
 things can render it perfectly miserable ; its capacity of 
 suffering is not put to its utmost stretch. This has been 
 attested by the experience of multitudes who have suffered 
 for righteousness sake. But, O ! when we take a survey 
 of invisible things, we shall find them all great and ma- 
 jestic, not onlv equal, but infinitely superior to the most 
 enlarged powers of the human and even of the angelic 
 nature. In the eternal world the great Invisible dwells, 
 and there he acts with his own immediate hand. It is he 
 that immediately communicates happiness through the
 
 270 Things unseen to be Serm. 1 1 . 
 
 heavenly regions ; and it is his immediate breath that, 
 iike a stream of brimstone, kindles the flames of hell : 
 whereas in the present world he rarely communicates hap- 
 piness, and inflicts punishment, but by the instrumen- 
 tality of creatures ; and it is impossible the extremes of 
 either should be communicated through this channel. 
 This the infinite God alone can do, and, though in the 
 future world he will use his creatures to heighten the 
 happiness or misery of each other, yet he will have a 
 more immediate agency in them himself. He will com- 
 municate happiness immediately from himself, the infinite 
 fountain of it, into the vessels of mercy ; and he will 
 immediately shew his wrath, and make his power known 
 upon the vessels of wrath. I may add, that those crea- 
 tures, angels and devils, which will be the instruments 
 of happiness or misery to the human soul in the invisible 
 world, are incomparably more powerful than any in 
 this ; and consequently capable of contributing more to 
 our pleasure or pain. And let me also observe, that all 
 the objects about which our faculties will be employed 
 then, will be great and majestic ; whereas, at present, we 
 grovel among little sordid things. The objects of oirr 
 contemplation will then be either the unveiled glories of 
 the divine nature, and the naked wonders of creation, 
 providence, and redemption ; or the terrors of divine 
 justice, the dreadful nature and aggravations of our sin, 
 the horrors of everlasting punishment, &c. And since 
 this is the case, how little should we regard the things 
 that are seen, in comparison of them that are not seen ? 
 But though visible things were adequate to our present 
 capacities, yet they are not to be compared with the 
 things that are not seen, because. 
 
 12. The soul is at present in a state of infancy, and 
 incapable of such degrees of pleasure or pain as it can 
 bear in the future world. The enjoyments of this life 
 arc like the play-things of children ; and none but child- 
 ish souls would trifle with them, or fret and vex them- 
 selves or one another about them ; but the invisible 
 realities before us are manly and great, and such as an 
 adult soul ought to concern itself with. The soul in 
 another world can no more be happy or miserable from 
 such toys, than men can be happy or wretched in the
 
 Serm. 1 1 . preferred to things seen. 71 
 
 possession or loss of the baubles of children ; it will then 
 demand great things to give it pleasure or pain. The 
 apostle illustrates this matter in this manner. 1 Cor. xiii. 
 9, 10, II. How foolish is it then to be chiefly governed 
 by these puerilities, while we neglect the manly concern 
 of eternity, that can make our souls perfectly happy or 
 miserable, when their powers are come to perfection. 
 
 3. And lastlv, All the happiness and misery of the 
 present state, resulting from things that are seen, are 
 intermingled with contrary ingredients. We are never 
 so happv in this world, as to have no uneasiness; in the 
 greatest affluence we languish for want of some absent 
 good, or grieve under some incumbent evil. On the 
 other hand, we are never so miserable as to have no in- 
 gredient of happiness. When we labour under a thou- 
 sand calamities, we may still see ourselves surrounded 
 with, perhaps, an equal number of blessings. And 
 where is there a wretch so miserable as to endure simple 
 unmingled miserv without one comfortable ingredient? 
 But in the invisible world there is an eternal separation 
 made between good and evil, pleasure and pain ; and 
 they shall never mingle more. In heaven the rivers of 
 pleas-ires flow untroubled with a drop of sorrow; in hell, 
 there is not a drop of water to mitigate the fury of 
 the flame. And who then would not prefer the things 
 that are not seen to those that are seen ? Especiallv, if 
 we consider, 
 
 <2. The infinite disparity between them as to duration. 
 This is the difference particularly intended in the text; 
 the things that arc .seen are temporal ; but the things 
 that are not .seen are eternal. 
 
 The transitoriness of visible things, implies, both that 
 the things themselves are perishable, and they may 
 soon leave us; and that our residence among them is 
 temporary, and we must soon leave them. 
 
 And the eternity of invisible things implies the quite 
 rontrarv, that the things themselves are of endless dura- 
 tion ; and that we shall always exist to receive happiness 
 or miserv from them. 
 
 Before we illustrate these instances of disparity, let 
 us take a view of Time and Eternity in themselves, and 
 ds compared to one another.
 
 72 Things unseen to be Serm. II. 
 
 Time is the duration of creatures in the present state. 
 It commenced at the creation, and near 6000 years of 
 it are since elapsed : and how much of it yet remains 
 we know not. But this we know, that the duration of 
 the world itself is as nothing in comparison of eternity. 
 But what is our duration compared with the duration 
 even of this world? It is but a span, an hairs breadth: 
 sixty, seventy, or eighty years, is generally the highest 
 standard of human life, and it is by far the smallest 
 number of mankind that arrives to these periods. The 
 most of them die like a flower blasted in the morning, 
 or at noon ; and we have more reason to expect it will 
 be our fate than to hope the contrary. Now the span 
 of time we enjoy in life is all our time ; we have no 
 more property in the rest of it than in the years before 
 the flood. All beside is eternity. " Eternity !" We 
 arc alarmed at the sound 1 Lost in the prospect ! Eter- 
 nity, with respect to God," is a duration without begin- 
 ning as well as without end : Eternity, as it is the 
 attribute of human nature, is a duration that had a 
 beginning, but shall never have an end. This is in- 
 alienably entailed upon us poor dying worms: and let 
 ns survey our inheritance. Eternity ! it is a duration 
 that excludes all number and computation ; days and 
 months, and years, yea, and ages are lost in it, like 
 drops in the ocean. Millions of millions of years, as 
 many years as there are sands on the sea shore, or par- 
 ticles of dust in the globe of the earth, and these 
 multiplied to the highest reach of number, all these 
 are nothing to eternity. They do not bear the least 
 imaginable proportion to it; for these will come to an 
 end, as certainly as a day ; but eternity will never, 
 never come to an end. It is a line without end; it is 
 an ocean without a shore. Alas ! what shall I say of 
 it? It is an infinite unknown something, that neither 
 human thought can grasp, nor human language de- 
 scribe. 
 
 Now place time in comparison with eternity, and 
 "what is it ? It shrinks into nothing, and less than no- 
 thing. What then is that little span of time in which 
 we have any property ? Alas ! it is too diminutive a 
 point to be conceived. Indeed, propedy speaking, we
 
 Serm. 11. preferred to things seen. 273 
 
 can call no part of time our own but the present mo- 
 ment, this fleeting now : future time is uncertain, and 
 we may never enjoy it; the breath we now respire may 
 be our last; and as to our past time, it is gone, and 
 will never be ours again. Our past days are dead and 
 buried, though perhaps guilt, their ghost, may haunt 
 us still. And what is a moment to eternity ? The dis- 
 parity is too great to admit of comparison. 
 
 Let me now resume the former particulars, implied 
 in the transitoriness of visible and eternity of invisible 
 things. 
 
 Visible things are perishable, and may soon leave us. 
 When we think they are ours, they often fly from our 
 embrace. Riches may vanish into smoke and ashes by 
 an accidental fire. We may be thrown down from the 
 pinnacle of honour, and sink the lower into disgrace. 
 Sensual pleasures often end in satiety and disgust, or in 
 sickness and death. Our friends are torn from our 
 bleeding hearts by the inexorable hand of death. Our 
 liberty and property may be wrested from us by the hand 
 of tyranny, oppression, or fraud. In a word, what do we 
 enjoy but we may lose ? On the other hand, our mise- 
 ries here are temporary; the heart receives many a 
 wound, but it heals again. Poverty may end in riches; 
 a clouded character may clear up, and from disgrace 
 we may rise to honour ; we may recover from sickness ; 
 and if we lose one comfort, we may obtain another, 
 liut in eternity every thing is everlasting and unchange- 
 able. Happiness and misery are both of them without 
 end; and the subjects of both well know that this is 
 die case. It is this perpetuity that finishes that hap- 
 piness of the inhabitants of heaven ; the least suspicion 
 of an end would intermingle itself with all their enjoy- 
 ments, and embitter them; and the greater the happi- 
 ness, the greater the anxiety at the expectation of 
 losing it. liut () how transporting for the saints on 
 high to look forward through the succession of eternal 
 ages, with an assurance that they shad be happy 
 through them all, and that they shall feel no change 
 but from glory to glurv! On the other hand, this is 
 the bitterest ingredient in the cup of divine displea- 
 sure in the future state, that the misery is eternal. O 
 Vol I, T
 
 274 Things unseen to be Serm. 11. 
 
 with what horror does that despairing cry, Forever, 
 forever, forever ! echo through the vaults of hell ! 
 Eternity is such an important attribute, that it gives 
 infinite weight to things that would be insignificant, 
 were they temporary. A small degree of happiness, if 
 it be eternal, exceeds the greatest degree that is tran- 
 sitory; and a small degree of misery that is everlasting, 
 of greater importance than the greatest degree that 
 soon comes to an end. Would you rather endure the 
 most painful tortures that nature can bear for a mo- 
 ment than an eternal tooth-ach or head-ach? Again, 
 should we consider all the ingredients and causes of 
 future happiness and misery, we should find them all 
 everlasting. The blessed God is an inexhaustible pe- 
 rennial fountain of bliss; his image cau never be 
 erased from the hearts of glorified spirits; the great 
 contemplation will always lie obvious to them; and 
 they will always exist as the partakers and promoters 
 of mutual bliss. On the other hand, in hell the worm 
 of conscience dieth not, and the fire is not quenched ; 
 divine justice is immortal, malignant spirits will always 
 exist as mutual tormentors, and their wicked habits 
 will never be extirpated. 
 
 And now, need I offer any thing farther to convince 
 you of the superior importance of invisible and eter- 
 nal to visible and temporary things? Can a rational 
 creature be at a loss to choose in so plain a case? Can 
 you need any arguments to convince you that an 
 eternity of the most perfect happiness is rather to be 
 chosen than a few years of sordid unsatisfying delight? 
 Or that the former should not be forfeited for the sake 
 of the latter ? Have you any remaining scruples, 
 whether the little anxieties and mortifications of a 
 pious life are more intolerable than everlasting punish- 
 ment ? O it is a plain case: what then mean an in- 
 fatuated world, who lav out all their concern on tern- 
 poral things, and neglect the important affairs of eter- 
 nity? Let us illustrate this matter by a supposition. 
 Suppose a bird were to pick up and carry away a grain 
 of sand or dust from the globe of this earth once in 
 a thousand years, till it should be at length wholly 
 carried away ; the duration which this would take up
 
 Se R3i.ll. preferred to Things seen, 275 
 
 appears a kind of eternity to us. Now suppose it were 
 put to our choice, either to be happy during- this time, 
 and miserable ever after, or to be miserable during this 
 time, and happy ever after, which would you choose? 
 Why, though this duration seems endless, yet he would 
 be a fool that would not make the latter choice; for, 
 O, behind this vast duration, there lies an eternity 
 which exceeds it infinitely more than this duration ex- 
 ceeds a moment. J3ut we have no such seemingly 
 puzzling choice as this ; the matter with us stands 
 thus, Will you choose the little sordid pleasures or' sin 
 that may perhaps not last an hour, at most not many 
 years, rather than everlasting pleasure of the sublimest 
 kind ? Will you rather endure intolerable torment for- 
 ever than painfully endeavour to be holy ! What does 
 your conduct, my brethren, answer to these questions ? 
 If your tongues reply, they will perhaps for your cre- 
 dit give a right answer ; but what say your prevailing 
 disposition and common practice ? Are you not more 
 thoughful for time than eternity ? More concerned 
 about visible vanities than invisible realities ? If so, 
 you make a fool's choice indeed. 
 
 l]ut let it be further considered, that the transitori- 
 ncss of invisible things may imply that we must ere 
 long be removed from them. Though they were im- 
 mortal it would be nothing to us, since we are not so 
 in our present state. Within a few years, at most, we 
 .shall be beyond the reach of all happiness and misery 
 from temporal things. 
 
 1 3iit when we pass out of this transitory state, we 
 enter upon an everlasting state. Our souls will always 
 exist ; exi^t in a state of unchangeable, boundless hap- 
 piness or misery. It is but a little while since we came 
 into being out of a state of eternal non-existence ; but 
 we shall never relapse into that state again. These 
 little sparks of being shall never he extinguished; they 
 will survive the ruins of the world, and kindle into 
 innnortalitv. When millions of millions of ages are 
 i''ist, we shall still be in existence ; and () ! in what 
 unknown region- In that of endless bliss, or of inter- 
 minable misery ! I>e this the most anxious enquiry 
 of our live-. ' 
 
 'J' :.
 
 276 Things unseen to be Serm. 11. 
 
 Seeing then we must soon leave this world, and all 
 its joys and sorrows, and seeing we must enter on an 
 unchangeable everlasting state of happiness or misery, 
 be it our chief concern to end our present pilgrimage 
 well. It matters but little whether we lie easy or not 
 during this night of existence, if so be we awake in 
 eternal day. It is but a trifle, hardly worth a thought, 
 whether we be happy or miserable here, if we be happy 
 for ever hereafter. What then mean the bustle and 
 noise of mankind about the things of time? O, sirs! 
 eternity, awful all-important eternity, is the only thing 
 tbat deserves a thought. I come, 
 
 II. To shew the great and happy influence a suitable 
 impression of the superior importance of invisible to 
 visible things would have upon us. This I might ex- 
 emplify in a variety of instances with respect to saints 
 and sinners. 
 
 When we are tempted to any unlawful pleasures, 
 how would we shrink away with horror from the pur- 
 suit, had we a due sense of the misery incurred, and 
 the happiness forfeited by it ! 
 
 When we find our hearts excessively eager after 
 things below, had we a suitable view of eternal things, 
 all these things would shrink into trifles hardly worth 
 a thought, much less our principal concern. 
 
 When the sinner, for the sake of a little present ease, 
 and to avoid a little present uneasiness, stifles bis con- 
 science, refuses to examine his condition, casts the 
 thoughts of eternity out of his mind, and thinks it 
 too hard to attend painfully on all the means of grate, 
 has he then a due estimate of eternal things? Alas! 
 no ; he only looks at the things that are seen. Were 
 the mouth of hell open before him, that he might 
 behold its torments, and had he sight of the joys of 
 paradise, they would harden him into a generous in- 
 sensibility of all the sorrows and anxieties of this life, 
 and his enquiry would not be, Whether these things 
 required of him are easy ? but, Whether they are ne- 
 cessary to obtain eternal happiness, and avoid everlast- 
 ing misery ? 
 
 When we suffer any reproach or contempt on a re- 
 ligious account, how would a due estimate of eternal
 
 Serm.11. preferred to Tilings seen. 9,77 
 
 things fortify us with undaunted courage, and make 
 us willing" to climb to heaven through disgrace, rather 
 than sink to hell with general applause ! 
 
 How would a realizing view of eternal things ani- 
 mate us in our devotion ? Were this thought impress- 
 ed on our hearts when in the secret or social duties 
 of religion, " I am now acting for eternity," do you 
 think we should pray, read, or hear with so much in- 
 differency and languor r O, no ; it would rouze us 
 out of our dead frames, and call forth all the vigour 
 of our souls. With what unwearied importunity should 
 Ave cry to God! with what eagerness hear the word of 
 salvation ! 
 
 How powerful an influence would a view of futurity 
 have to alarm the secure sinner that has thought little 
 of eternity all his life, though it be the only thing 
 worth thinking of! 
 
 How would it hasten the determination of the lin- 
 gering, wavering sinner, and shock him at the thought 
 of living one day unprepared on the very brink of 
 eternity ! 
 
 In a word, a suitable impression of this would quite 
 alter the aspect of things in the world, and would turn 
 the concern, and activity of the world into another 
 channel. Eternity then would be the principal con- 
 cern. Our inquiries would not be, who will shew us 
 any temporal good ? What shall we eat, or what shall 
 we drink? But, What shall we do to be saved? How 
 shall we escape the wrath to come? Let us then en- 
 deavour to impress our hearts with invisible things, and 
 for that purpose consider, that 
 
 W'c shall, ere long, be ingulphed in this awful eter- 
 nity, whether we think ol it or not. A few days or 
 years will launch us there; and (), the surprising- 
 scenes that will then open to us! 
 
 Without deep impressions of eternity on our hearts, 
 and frequent thought fulness about it, we cannot be 
 pr< pared for it. 
 
 And it' we are not prepared for it, O, how incon- 
 ceivably miserable our case ! But if prepared, how 
 inconceivably happy ! 
 
 T3
 
 278 Things unseen to he preferred, 8$c. Serm. 1 J. 
 
 Look not then at the things which are seen, but at 
 the things which are not seen; for the things which 
 are seen are temporal: but the things which are not 
 seen are eternal.
 
 SERMON XII. 
 The Sacred Import of the Christian Name. 
 
 Acts xi. 26. 
 The Disciples were called Christians first at dntioch. 
 
 MERE names are empty sounds, and but of little 
 consequence : and yet it must be owned there 
 are names of honour and significancy; and, when they 
 are attended with the things signified by them, they are 
 of great and sacred importance. Such is the Christian 
 name ; a name about seventeen hundred years old. And 
 now, when the name is almost lost in party-distinc^ 
 tions, and the thing is almost lost in ignorance, error, 
 vice, hypocrisy, and formality, it may be worth our 
 while to consider the original import of that sacred 
 name, as a proper expedient to recover both name and 
 thing. 
 
 The name of Christian was not the first by which the 
 followers of Christ were distinguished. Their enemies 
 called them Galileans, Nazarenes, and other names of 
 contempt : and among themselves they were called Saints, 
 from their holiness; Disciples, from their learning their 
 religion from Christ as their teacher ; Believers, from 
 their believing in him as the Messiah; and Brethren, from 
 their mutual love and their relation to God and each 
 other. But after some time they were distinguished by 
 the name of Christians. This they first received in Antioch, 
 an heathen cifv, a city infamous for all manner of vice 
 and debauchery, a city that had its name from Antiochus 
 Iipiphanes, the bitterest enemy the church of the Jews 
 ever had. A city verv rich and powerful, from whence 
 the christian name would have an extensive circulation ;
 
 280 The sacred Import of Serm. 12, 
 
 but it is long since laid in ruins, unprotected by that 
 sacred name : in such a pity was Christ pleased to confer 
 his name upon his followers: and you cannot but see 
 that the very choice of the place discovers his wisdom, 
 grace, and justice. 
 
 The original word, which is here rendered called, 
 scenes to intimate, that they were called christians by 
 divine appointment, for it generally signifies an oracular 
 nomination, or a declaration from God ; and to this 
 purpose it is generally translated* Hence it follows, 
 that the very name christian, as well as the thing, was 
 of a divine original ; assumed, not by a private agree- 
 ment of the disciples among themselves, but by the 
 appointment of God. And in this view it is a remark- 
 able accomplishment of an old prophecy of Isaiah, 
 chapter lxii. Q. The Gentiles shall see thy righteous- 
 ness, and all Kings thy glory ; and thou shalt be called 
 by a new name, xvhich the mouth of the Lord shall 
 name. So Isaiah lxv. 15. The Lord shall call his ser- 
 vants by another name. 
 
 This name was at first confined to few ; but it soon 
 had a surprisingly extensive propagation thro' the world. 
 In many countries, indeed, it was lost, and miserably 
 exchanged for that of Heathen, Mahometan, or Mussul- 
 man. Yet the European nations still retain the honour 
 of wearing it. A few scattered christians are also still to 
 be found here and there in Asia and Africa, though 
 crushed under the oppressions of Mahometans and Pagans. 
 This name has likewise crossed the wide ocean to the wil- 
 derness of America, and is worn by the sundry European 
 colonies on this continent. We, in particular, call our- 
 
 * It is this word that is used., Matt. ji. 12. K/ ypr^xitiuris, being 
 warned of God, and the like in Matt. ii. 22. So in Rom. xi. 4. 
 Xf/)!j.xii<z-[f.os i is rendered the answer of Cod. Horn. vii. 3. y^^sclnja 
 .she shall be called (t'iz. by the divine law) an adultress. Luke 
 ii. 2o. yj-r/AxiiTi^v it was revealed to him by the Holy Ghpst. Acts. x. 
 '-11. tyj-'.!j.'J.itJt was warned from God. Heb. viii. 5. Kty i f r 'l Ji - x ^^ x ' l\lu.-ayis , 
 Moses, was admonished of Clod, Heb. xi. 7 Noah being warned of 
 God, yjr,[j.zU$i;<. Heb. xii. 25. If they escaped not, who r'fused him 
 that spake on earth ; viz. by divine inspiration , yjn(j.a\t'(r,Tirx tml tw. 
 These are all the places perhaps in which the word is used in the New 
 Testament; and in all these it seems to mean a revelation from God, or 
 something oracular. And this is a strong presumption that the word ia 
 to be so understood ai the text.
 
 Serm. 12. of the Christian name. 281 
 
 selves christians and should take it ill to be denied the 
 honour of that distinction. But do we know the meaning 
 and sacred import of that name ? Do we not know what 
 it is to be Christians indeed ? That is, to be in reality 
 what we are in name : certainly it is time for us to con- 
 sider the matter; and it is my present design that we 
 should do so. 
 
 Now we may consider this name in various views; 
 particularly as a name of distinction from the rest of the 
 world, who know not the Lord Jesus, or reject him as an 
 impostor ; as a patronymic name, pointing out the 
 Father and Founder of our holy religion and the christian 
 church; as a badge of our relation to Christ as his ser- 
 vants, his children, his bride ; as intimating our unction 
 by the holy spirit, or our being the subjects of his influ- 
 ences ; as Christ was anointed by the holy spirit, or re- 
 plenished with his gifts above measure (for you are to 
 observe that anointed is the English of the Greek name 
 Christ, and of the Hebrew, Messiah*) : and as a name 
 of appropriation, signifying that we are the property of 
 Christ, and his peculiar people. Each of these particu- 
 lars might be profitably illustrated-}". But my present 
 design confimes me to consider the Christian name only 
 in two views; namely, as a catholic name, intended to 
 bury all party denominations; and as a name of obliga- 
 tion upon all that wear it to be christians indeed, or to 
 form their temper and practice upon the sacred model of 
 Christianity. 
 
 I. Let us consider the christian name as a catholic name, 
 intended to bury all party denominations. 
 
 The name Gentile was odious to the Jews, and the 
 name Jew was odious to the Gentiles. The name chris- 
 tian swallows up both in one common and agreeable 
 appellation. Me that hath taken down the partition-wall, 
 has taken awav partition-names, and united all his follow- 
 ers in his own name, as a common denomination. For 
 
 * Psal. cv. ]5. Touch not my Christsj that Is, my anointed peo- 
 ple. So the Seventy. 
 
 f See a fine illustration of them in Dr. Grosvenor's excellent Essay on 
 the Christian Name j from whom I am not ashamed to bouo'.v several 
 amiable sentiments.
 
 282 The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 now, says Paul, there is neither Greek nor Jew, cir- 
 cumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond 
 nor free; bat Christ is all and in all. Col. iii. 11. 
 And ye are all one in Christ Jesus. Gal. iii. 28. Ac- 
 cording to a prophecy of Zechariah, The Lord shall be 
 King over all the earth ; and in that day there shall 
 be one Lord, and his name one. Zech. xiv. g. 
 
 It is but a due honour to Jesus Christ, the founder of 
 Christianity, that all who profess his religion should 
 wear his name : and they pay an extravagant and even 
 idolatrous compliment to his subordinate officers and 
 ministers, when they take their denomination from 
 them. Had this humour prevailed in the primitive 
 church, instead of the common name christians, there 
 would have been as many party-names as there were 
 apostles or eminent ministers. There would have been 
 Paulites from Paul; Peterites from Peter; Johnites 
 from John; Barnabites from Barnabas; &c. Paul took, 
 pains to crush the first risings of this party-spirit in 
 those churches which he planted ; particularly in Co- 
 rinth, where it most prevailed. While they were say- 
 ing, / am of Paul; and 1 of Apollos ; and I of 
 Cephas; and I of Christ, he puts this pungent question 
 to them: " Is Christ divided? Are his servants the 
 ringleaders of so many parties? Was Paul crucified 
 for your Or were ye baptized in or into the name of 
 Paul, that ye should be so fond to take your name 
 from him? He counted it a happiness that providence 
 had directed him to such a conduct as gave no umbrage 
 of encouragement to such a humour. / thank God, 
 says he, that I baptized none of you, but Crispus and 
 Gains : lest any should take occasion to say, 1 baptized 
 into my own name, and reus gathering a party for my- 
 self. 1 Cor. i. VI 15. 
 
 But alas! how little has this convictivc reasoning of 
 the apostle been regarded in the future ages of the 
 church? What an endless variety of denominations 
 taken from some men of character, or from some little 
 peculiarities, lias prevailed in the christian world, and 
 crumbled it to pieces, while the christian name is 
 hardly regarded? Not to take notice of Jesuits, Jan- 
 senits, Dominicans, Franciscans, and other denomina-
 
 Serbi. 12. the Christian Name. 283 
 
 tions and orders in the popish church, where, having 
 corrupted the thing, they act very consistently to lay 
 aside the name, what party-names have been adopted 
 by the protestant churches, whose religion is substan- 
 tially the same common Christianity, and who agree in 
 much more important articles than in those they differ; 
 and who therefore might peaceably unite under the 
 common name of Christians? We have Lutherans, 
 Calvinists, Arminians, Zuinglians, Churchmen, Presby- 
 terians, Independents, Baptists, and a long list of names 
 which I cannot now enumerate. To be a christian is 
 not enough now-a-days, but a man must also be some- 
 thing more and better; that is, lie must be a strenuous 
 bigot to this or that particular church. But where is 
 the reason or propriety of this ? I may indeed believe 
 the same things which Luther or Calvin believed ; but 
 I do not believe them on the authority of Luther or 
 Calvin, but upon the sole authority of Jesus Christ, 
 and therefore I should not call myself by their name, 
 as one of their disciples, but by the name of Christ, 
 whom alone I acknowledge as the Author of my reli- 
 gion, and my only master and Lord. If I learn mv 
 religion from one of these great men, it is indeed 
 propel i should assume their name. If I learn it from 
 a parliament or convocation, and make their acts and 
 canoi s the rule and ground of my faith, then it is 
 enough for me to be of the established religion, be 
 that what it will: I may with propriety be called a 
 mere conformist; that is my highest character; but I 
 cannot be properly called a christian; for a christian 
 learns his religion, not from acts of parliament, or 
 from the determinations of councils, but from Jesus 
 Christ and his gospel. 
 
 To guard against mistakes on this head, I would 
 
 OCT ' 
 
 observe that every man has a natural and legal right to 
 judge and choose for himself in matters of religion; 
 and that is a mean supple soul indeed, and utterly 
 careless about all religion, that makes a compliment of 
 this right to anv man, or body of men upon earth, 
 whether pope, king, parliament, convocation, or sy- 
 nod. In the exercise of this right, and searching for 
 himself, he will find that he agrees more fully in lesser
 
 284 The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 as well as more important articles with some particular 
 church than others; and thereupon it is his duty to 
 join in stated communion with that church; and he 
 may, if he pleases, assume the name which that church 
 weal's, by way of distinction from others: this is not 
 what I condemn. But for me to glory in the denomi- 
 nation of any particular church, as my highest cha- 
 racter; to lay more stress upon the name of a presby- 
 terian or a churchman than on the sacred name of 
 christian; to make a punctilious agreement with my 
 sentiments in the little peculiarities of a party the test 
 of all religion; to make it the object of my zeal to 
 gain proselytes to sonie other than the christian name; 
 to connive at the faults of those of my own party, and 
 to be blind to the good qualities of others, or invidi- 
 ously to misrepresent or diminish them; these are the 
 things which deserve universal condemnation from 
 God and man; these proceed from a spirit of bigotry 
 and faction, directly opposite to the generous catholic 
 spirit of Christianity, and subversive of it. And yet 
 how common is this spirit among all denominations ! 
 And what mischief lias it done in the world ! Hence 
 proceed contentions and animosities, uncharitable sus- 
 picions and censures, slander and detraction, partiality 
 and unreasonable prejudices, and a hideous group of 
 evils, which I cannot now describe. This spirit also 
 hinders the progress of serious practical religion, by 
 turning the attention of men from the great concerns 
 ot' eternity, and the essentials of Christianity, to vain 
 jangling and contest about circumstantials and trifles. 
 . Thus the christian is swallowed up in the partisan, and 
 fundamentals lost in extra-essentials. 
 
 My brethren, I would now warn you against this 
 wretched mischievous spirit of party. I would not 
 have you entirely sceptical and undetermined even 
 about the smaller points of religion, the modes and 
 forms, which are the matters of contention between 
 r! liferent churches; nor would 1 have you quite indif- 
 ferent what particular church to join with in stated 
 communion. Ihuieavour to find out the truth, even 
 in these circumstantials, at least so far as is necessary 
 for the direction of your own conduct. But do not
 
 Serm. 12. the Christian Name. S5 
 
 make these the whole or the principal part of your re- 
 ligion: do not be excessively zealous about them, nor 
 break the peace of the church by magisterially impos- 
 ing them upon others. ' Hast thou faith in these littie 
 disputable^, ' it is well ; ' but have it to thyself before 
 God,' and do not disturb others with it. You may, if 
 you please, call yourselves presbyterians and dissenters, 
 and you shall bear without shame or resentment all the 
 names of reproach and contempt which the world may 
 brand you with. But as you should not be mortiiied 
 on the one side, so neither should you glory on the 
 other. A christian ! a christian ! let that be your 
 highest distinction, let that be the name which you 
 labour to deserve. God forbid that my ministry 
 should be the occasion of diverting your attention to 
 any thing else. But I am so happy that I can appeal 
 to vourselves, whether I have, during several years of 
 my ministry among you, laboured to instil into you the 
 principles of bigotry, and make you warm proselytes 
 to a party : or whether it has not been the great object 
 of my zeal to inculcate upon you the grand essentials 
 of our holy religion, and make you sincere practical 
 christians. Alas ! my dear people, unless I succeed in 
 this, I labour to very little purpose, though I should 
 presbyteranize the whole colony. 
 
 Calumny and slander it is hoped, have by this time 
 talked themselves out of breath ; and the lying spirit 
 may be at a loss for materials to form a popular plausi- 
 ble falsehood, which is likely tu be credited where the 
 dissenters are known. But you have heard formerly, 
 and some of you may still hear strange and uncommon 
 surmises, wild conjectures, and most dismal insinua- 
 tions. But if you would know the truth at once, if 
 you would be fully informed by one that best knows 
 what religion I am of, 1 will fell you (with Mr. Baxter) 
 ' I am a christian, a mere christian ; of no other reli- 
 gion : my church is the christian church.' The Bible! 
 the Bible ! is my religion ; and if 1 am a dissenter, 1 
 dissent only r'roin mock's and forms of religion which 
 I cannot find in my Bible; and which therefore 1 con- 
 clude have nothing to do with religion, much less 
 should they be ma J'.- term- of christian communion,
 
 286* The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 since Christ, the only lawgiver of his church, has not 
 made them such. Let this congregation he that of a 
 christian society, and I little care what other name it 
 wears. Let it be a little Antioch, where the followers 
 of Christ shall be distinguished by their old catholic 
 name. Christians. To bear and deserve this character, 
 let this be our ambition, this our labour. Let popes 
 pronounce, and councils decree what they please ; let 
 statesmen and ecclesiastics prescribe what to believe ; 
 as for us, let us study our Bibles : let us learn of 
 Christ ; and if we are not dignified with the smiles, or 
 enriched with the emoluments of an establishment, 
 we shall have his approbation, who is the only Lord 
 and Sovereign of the realm of conscience, and by 
 whose judgment we must stand or fall for ever. 
 
 But it is time for me to proceed to consider the other 
 view of the christian name, on which I intend princi- 
 pally to insist ; and that is, 
 
 II. As a name of obligation upon all that wear it to 
 be christians indeed, or to form their temper and prac- 
 tice upon the sacred model of Christianity. The pro- 
 secution of this subject will lead me to answer this im- 
 portant enquiry, What is it to be a Christian ? 
 
 To be a christian, in the popular and fashionable 
 sense, is no difficult or excellent thing. It is to be 
 baptized, to profess the christian religion, to believe, 
 like our neighbours, that Christ is the Messiah, and 
 to attend upon public worship once a week, in some 
 church or other that bears only the christian name. 
 In this sense a man may be a christian, and yet be 
 habitually careless about eternal things ; a christian, 
 and yet fall short of the morality of many of the 
 heathens ; a christian, and yet a drunkard, a swearer, 
 or a slave to some vice or other; a christian, and yet a 
 wilful impenitent offender against God and man. To 
 be a christian in this sense is no high character ; and, 
 if this be the whole of Christianity, it is very little 
 matter whether the world be christianized or not. But 
 is this to be a christian in the original and proper sense 
 of the word ? No ; that is something of a very dif- 
 ferent and superior kind. To he a christian indeed, is 
 the highest character and dignity of which the human
 
 Serm. 12. the Christian Name. 287 
 
 nature is capable : it is the most excellent thing that 
 ever adorned our world: it is a thing that Heaven itself 
 beholds with approbation and delight. 
 
 To be a christian is to be like to Christ, from whom 
 the name is taken : it is to be a follower and imitator 
 of him ; to be possessed of his spirit and temper : and 
 to live as he lived in the world : it is to have those just, 
 exalted, and divine notions of God and divine things, 
 and that just and full view of our duty to God and 
 man, which Christ taught ; in short, it is to have our 
 sentiments, our temper and practice formed upon the 
 sacred model of the gospel. Let me expatiate a little 
 upon this amiable character. 
 
 1. To be a christian, is to depart from iniquity. To 
 this the name obliges us ; and without this, we have 
 no title to the name; Let every one that nametn the 
 name of Christ, depart from iniquity. 2 Tim. ii. 19; that 
 is, let him depart from iniquity, or not dare to touch 
 that sacred name. Christ was perfectly free from sin ; 
 lie was holy, harmless, undejiled, and separate from 
 sinners, His followers also shall be perfectly free from 
 sin in a little time; ere long they will enter into the 
 pure regions of perfect holiness, and will drop all their 
 sins, with their mortal bodies, into the grave. But 
 this, alas ! is not their character in the present state, 
 but the remains of sin stiil cleave to them. Yet, even 
 in the present state, they are labouring after perfection 
 in holiness. Nothing can satisfy them until they are 
 conformed to the image of God's dear Son. They are 
 hourly conflicting with every temptation, and vigo- 
 rously resisting every iniquity in its most alluring 
 ibrms. And, though sin is perpetually struggling 
 for the mastery and sometimes in an inadvertent hour, 
 gets an advantage over them, yet, as they are not under 
 the law, but under grace, they are assisted with recruits 
 of grace, so that no sin has an habitual dominion over 
 them. Itom. vi. 14. Hence they are free from the gross 
 vices of the age, and are men of good morals. This 
 is their habitual universal character; and to pretend 
 to be christians without this requisite, is the greatest 
 absurditv.
 
 288 The sacred Import of Serm. 12 
 
 What then shall we think of the drunken, swearing, 
 debauched, defrauding, rakish, profligate, profane chris- 
 tians, that have overrun the christian world ? Can 
 there be a greater contradiction? A loyal subject in 
 arms against his sovereign, an ignorant scholar, a 
 sober drunkard, a charitable miser, an honest thief, is 
 not a greater absurdity, or a more direct contradiction. 
 To depart from iniquity is essential to Christianity, and 
 without it, there can be no such thing. There was 
 nothing that Christ was so remote from as sin; and 
 therefore for those that indulge themselves in it to wear 
 his name, is just as absurd and ridiculous as for a cow- 
 ard to denominate himself from Alexander the Great, 
 or an illiterate dunce to call himself a Newtonian phi- 
 losopher. Therefore if you will not renounce iniquity, 
 renounce the christian name : for you cannot consist- 
 ently retain both. Alexander had a fellow in his army 
 that was of his own name, but a mere coward. " Either 
 be like me," says Alexander, u or lay aside my name." 
 Ye servants of sin, it is in vain for you to wear the 
 name of Christ, it renders you the more ridiculous, 
 and aggravates your guilt: you may with as much pro- 
 priety call yourselves lords, or dukes, or kings, as 
 christians, while you are so unlike to Christ. His 
 name is a sarcasm, a reproach to you, and you are a 
 scandal to his name. His name is blasphemed among 
 the Gentiles through you. 
 
 2. To be a christian is to deny yourselves and take 
 up the cross and follow Christ. These are the terms of 
 discipleship fixt by Christ himself. He said to them 
 all, If any man will come after me, let him deny him- 
 self and take up his cross daily, and follow me. Luke 
 ix. %3. To deny ourselves is to abstain from the plea- 
 sures of sin, to moderate our sensual appetites, to deny 
 our own interest for the sake of Christ ; and in short 
 to sacrifice every thing inconsistent with our duty to 
 him, when these come in competition. To take up 
 our cross, is to bear sufferings, to encounter difliculties, 
 and break through them all in imitation of Jesus 
 Christ, and for his sake. To follow him, is to trace 
 his steps, and imitate his example, whatever it costs 
 us. But this observation will coincide with the next
 
 Serm. 12. the Christian Name. 289 
 
 head, and therefore I now dismiss it. These, sirs, and 
 these only, are the terms, if you would be Christians, 
 or the disciples of Christ. These he honestly warned 
 mankind of when he first called them to be his dis- 
 ciples. He did not take an advantage of them, 
 but let them know beforehand upon what terms they 
 were admitted. He makes this declaration in the 
 midst of a great crowd, in Luke xiv. 25, &c. There 
 went a great multitude with him, fond of becoming 
 his followers : but he turned, and said unto them, if 
 any man come to me and hate not his father and mother, 
 and wife and children, and sisters, yea, and his oxon life 
 also, he cannot be my disciple. By hating is here meant 
 a smaller degree of love, or a comparative hatred; that 
 is, if we would be Christ's disciples, we must be willing 
 to part with our dearest relations, and even our lives, 
 when we cannot retain them consistently with our duty 
 to him. He goes on: IVhosoexer does not bear his 
 cross, and encounter the greatest sufferings after my 
 example, cannot be my disciple. The love of Christ is 
 the ruling passion of every true Christian, and for his 
 sake he is ready to give up all, and to suffer all that 
 earth or hell can inflict. He must run all risks, and 
 cleave to his cause at all adventures. This is the essen- 
 tial character of every true Christian. 
 
 What then shall we think of those crowds anions: 
 us who retain the Christian name, and yet will not 
 tleny themselves of their sensual pleasures, nor part 
 with their temporal interest for the sake of Christ? 
 Who are so far from being willing to lay down their 
 lives, that they cannot stand the force of a laugh or a 
 sneer in the cause of religion, but immediately stumble 
 and fall away r or, are they Christians, whom the com- 
 mands of Christ cannot restrain from what their de- 
 praved hearts desire? No; a Christian, without self- 
 denial, mortification, and a supreme love to Jesus 
 Christ, is as great a contradiction as tire without heat, 
 or a sun without light, an hero without courage, or a 
 friend without love. And does not this strip some of 
 you of the christian name, and prove that you have uq 
 title at all to it ? 
 
 Vol. I. U
 
 290 The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 3. I have repeatedly observed, that a true Christian 
 must be a follower or imitator of Christ. Be ye fol- 
 lowers of me, says St. Paul, as I also am of Christ. 
 1 Cor. xi. 1. Christ is the model after whom every Chris- 
 tian is formed; for, says St. Peter, he left lis an example, 
 that we should follow his steps. 1 Pet. ii. 21. St. Paul 
 tells us, that we must be conformed to the image of 
 God's dear Son. Rom. viii. 2Q. and that the same mind 
 must be in us which was also in Christ Jesus. Phil. ii. 
 5. ; unless we partake of his spirit, and resemble him in 
 practice ; unless we be as he was in the world, we have 
 no right to partake of his name. 
 
 Here I would observe, that what was miraculous in 
 our Lord's conduct, and peculiar to him as the Son of 
 God and Mediator, is not a pattern for our imitation, 
 but only what was done in obedience to that law of 
 God which was common to him and us. His heart 
 glowed with love to his Father, he delighted in uni- 
 versal obedience to him ; it Mas his meat and his drink 
 to do his will, even in the most painful and self-deny- 
 ing instances; he abounded in devotion, in prayer, 
 meditation, fasting, and every religious duty, lie M'as 
 also full of every grace and virtue towards mankind: 
 meek and lowly, kind and benevolent, just and chari- 
 table, merciful and compassionate; a dutiful son, a 
 loyal subject, a faithful friend, a good master, and an 
 active, useful, public-spirited member of society. He 
 was patient and resigned, and yet undaunted and brave 
 under sufferings: he had all his appetites and passions 
 under proper government, he was heavenly-minded, 
 above this world in heart while he dwelt in it. liene- 
 ficence to the souls and bodies of men was the business 
 of his life; for he went about doing good. Acts x. 38. 
 This is an imperfect sketch of his amiable character; 
 and in these things every one that deserves to be called 
 after his name, does in some measure resemble and 
 imitate him. This is not only his earnest endeavour, 
 but what lie actually attains, though in a much inferior 
 degree; and his imperfections are the grief of his heart. 
 This resemblance and imitation of Christ is essential 
 to the very being of a Christian, and without it, it is
 
 Serm. 12. the Christian Name. 291 
 
 a vain pretence. And does your Christianity, my bre- 
 thren, stand this test? may one know that you belong 
 to Chris by your living- like him, and discovering the 
 same temper and spirit ? Do the manners of the divine 
 Master spread through all his family; and do you shew 
 that you belong to it by your temper and conduct ? 
 Alas ! it' you must be denominated from hence, would 
 not some of you with more propriety be called Epicu- 
 reans from Epicurus, the sensual atheistic philosopher, 
 or Mammonites from Mammon, the imaginary god of 
 riches, or Bacchanals from Bacchus, the god of wine, 
 than Christians from Christ, the most perfect pattern 
 of living holiness and virtue that ever was exhibited 
 to the world ? 
 
 If you claim the name of Christians, where is that 
 ardent devotion, that affectionate love to God, that 
 zeal for his glory, that alacrity in his service, that 
 resignation to his will, that generous benevolence to 
 mankind, that zeal to promote their best interests, that 
 meekness and forbearance under ill-usage, that un- 
 wearied activity in doing good to all, that self-denial 
 and heavenly mindedness which shone so conspicuous 
 in Christ, whose holy name you bear? Alas! while 
 you are destitute of these graces, and yet wear his 
 name, you burlesque it, and turn it into a reproach 
 both to him and yourselves. 
 
 I might add, that the christian name is not heredi- 
 tary t-) you by your natural birth, but you must be 
 born anew of the spirit to entitle you to this new name; 
 that a Christian is a Believer, believing in ilim after 
 whom he is called as his only Saviour and Lord, and 
 that he is a true penitent. Repentance was incompa- 
 tible with Christ's character, who was perfectly right- 
 eous, and had no sin of which to repent; but it is a 
 proper virtue in a sinner, without which he cannot be 
 a christian. On these and several other particulars I 
 might enlarge, but my time will not allow; I shall 
 therefore conclude with a i'cw reflections. 
 
 First, You may hence see that the christian charac- 
 ter is the highest, the most excellent and sublime in 
 all the world: it includes every thing truly great and 
 
 V <J
 
 292 The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 amiable. The christian has exalted sentiments of the 
 supreme Being, just notions of duty, and a proper 
 temper and conduct towards God and man. A chris- 
 tian is a devout worshipper of the God of heaven, a 
 cheerful observer of his whole law, and a broken- 
 hearted penitent for his imperfections. A christian is 
 a complication of all the amiable and useful graces and 
 virtues ; temperate and sober, just, liberal, compassion- 
 ate and benevolent, humble,, meek, gentle, peaceable, 
 and in all things conscientious. A christian is a good 
 parent, a good chnci, a good master, a good servant, a 
 guod husband, a good wife, a faithful friend, an oblig- 
 ing neighbour, a dutiful subject, a good ruler, a zealous 
 patriot, and an honest statesman ; and as far as he is 
 such, so far, and no farther, he is a christian. And 
 can there be a more amiable and excellent character 
 exhibited to your view ? It is an angelic, a divine 
 character. Let it be your glory and your ambition 
 to wear it with a good grace, to wear it so as to 
 adorn it. 
 
 To acquire the title of Kings and Lords is not in 
 your power; to spread your fame as scholars, philoso- 
 phers, or heroes, maybe beyond your reach; but here 
 is a character more excellent, more amiable, more 
 honourable than all these, which it is your business to 
 deserve and maintain. And blessed be God, this is a 
 dignity which the meanest among you, which beggars 
 and slaves may attain. Let this therefore be an object 
 of universal ambition and pursuir, and let every other 
 name and title be despised in comparison of it. This 
 is the way to rise to true honour in the estimate of 
 God, angels, and good men. What though the anti- 
 christian-christians of our age and country ridicule 
 you? let them consider their own absurd conduct and 
 be ashamed. They think it an honour to wear the 
 christian name, and yet persist in unchristian practices; 
 and who but a fool, with such palpable contradiction, 
 would think so? A beggar that fancies himself a king, 
 and trails his rags with the gait of majesty as though 
 they were royal robes, is not so ridiculous as one that 
 will usurp the christian name without a christian prac-
 
 Serm. 12* the Christian Name. 293 
 
 tice; and yet such christians are the favourites of the 
 world. To renounce the profession of Christianity is 
 barbarous and profane; to live according to that pro- 
 fession, and practise Christianity, is preciseness and 
 fanaticism. Can any thing be more preposterous? 
 This is as if one should ridicule learning, and yet glory 
 in the character of a scholar ; or laugh at bravery, and 
 yet celebrate the praises of heroes. And are they fit 
 to judge of the wisdom and propriety, or their censures 
 to be regarded, who fall into such an absurdity them- 
 selves: 
 
 Secondly, Hence you may see that, if all the pro- 
 fessors of Christianity should behave in character, the 
 religion of Christ would soon appear divine to all man- 
 kind, and spread through all nations of the earth. 
 Were Christianity exhibited to the life in all its native 
 and inherent glories, it would be as needless to offer 
 arguments to prove it divine, as to prove that the sun 
 is full of light: the conviction would flash upon all 
 mankind by its own intrinsic evidence. Did christians 
 exemplify the religion they profess, all the world would 
 immediately see that that religion which rendered them 
 so different a people from all the rest of mankind, is 
 indeed divine, and every way worthy of universal ac- 
 ceptance. Then we should have no such monsters as 
 Atheists, Deists, and Infidels in christian countries, 
 Then would Heathenism, Mahomctism, and all the 
 false religions in the world, fall before the heaven- 
 born religion of Jesus Christ. Then it would be suf- 
 ficient to convince an infidel just to bring him into 
 a christian country, ami let him observe the different 
 face of things there from all the world beside. But, 
 alas! 
 
 Thirdly, how different is the christian world from 
 the christian religion! Who would imagine that they 
 who take their name from Christ have any relation to 
 him, if we observe their spirit and practice-' Should 
 a stranger learn Christianity from what he sees in popish 
 countries, he would conclude it principally consisted 
 in bodily austerities, in worshipping saints, images, 
 relics, and a thousand tiiile^, in theatrical fopperies
 
 29-fc The sacred Import of Serm. 12. 
 
 and insignificant ceremonies, in believing implicitly all 
 the determinations of a fallible man as infallibly true, 
 and in persecuting all that differ from -them, and shew- 
 ing their love to their souls by burning their bodies. 
 In protcstant countries, alas ! the face of things is 
 but little better as to good morals and practical reli- 
 gion. Let us take our own country for a sample. 
 Suppose an Heathen or Mahometan should take a tour 
 through Virginia to learn the religion of the inhabi- 
 tants from their general conduct, what would he con- 
 clude? would he not conclude that all the religion of 
 the generality consisted in a i'cw Sunday-formalities, 
 and that the rest of the M r eek they had nothing to do 
 with God, or any religion, but were at liberty to live 
 as they please ? And were he told that these were 
 the followers of one Christ, and were of his religion, 
 would he not conclude that he was certainly an impos- 
 tor, and the minister of sin? But when he came to 
 find that, notwithstanding all this licentiousness, they 
 professed the pure and holy religion of the Bible, how 
 would he be astonished, and pronounce them the most 
 inconsistent bare- faced hypocrites ! My brethren, great 
 and heavy is the guilt that lies upon our country on 
 this account. It is a scandal to the christian name: 
 it is guilty of continuing the neighbouring Heathen 
 in their prejudices, and hinders the propagation of 
 Christianity through the world. O let us not be ac- 
 cessary to this dreadful guilt, but do all we can to 
 
 recommend our religion to universal acceptance ! 
 
 I add, 
 
 Fourthly, and lastly, Let us examine whether we 
 have any just title to the christian name; that is, 
 whether we are christians indeed: for if we have not 
 the thing, to retain the name is the most inconsistent 
 folly and hypocrisy, and will answer no end but to 
 aggravate our condemnation. A lost christian is the 
 most shocking character in hell; and, unless you be 
 such christians as I have described, it will ere long- 
 be your character. Therefore be followers of Christ, 
 imbibe his spirit, practise his precepts, and depart 
 from iniquity, otherwise he will sentence you from
 
 Serm. 12. the Christian Name. 225 
 
 him at last as workers of iniquity. And then xvill I 
 pro/ess unto them (they arc Christ's own words) / 
 never knew you ; depart from me, ye that work ini 
 (juity. Matt. vii. 23. 
 
 U4
 
 SERMON XIII, 
 The Divine Mercy to mourning Penitents, 
 
 Jeremiah xxxi. 18, 19, 20. 
 
 I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself thus, Thou hast 
 chastised me, and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to 
 the yoke : turn thou me, and I shall be turned; for thou art 
 the Lord my God. Surely after that I zcas turned, I repented; 
 and after that I was instructed, I smote upon my thigh : I was 
 ashayned, yea, even confounded, because I did bear the reproach 
 of my youth. Is Ephraim my dear son ? is he a pleasant child? 
 for since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still: 
 therefore my bowels are troubled for him : 1 will surely have 
 mercy upon him, saith the Lord. 
 
 IN these words the mourning language of a penitent 
 child, sensible of ingratitude, and at once desirous 
 and ashamed to return, and the tender language of a 
 compassionate father, at once chastising, pitying, and 
 pardoning, are sweetly blended; and the images are so 
 lively and moving, that, if they were regarded only as 
 poetical descriptions founded upon fiction, they would 
 be irresistibly striking. But when we consider them 
 as the most important realities, as descriptive of that 
 ingenuous repentance which we must all feel, and of 
 that gracious acceptance we must all obtain from God 
 before we can be happy, what almighty energy should 
 they have upon us ! how may our hearts dissolve with- 
 in us at the sound of such pathetic complaints, and 
 such gracious encouragements ! Hard indeed is that 
 heart that can hear these penitential strains without 
 being melted into the like tender relentings ; and in- 
 veterate is that melancholy, incurable is that despon- 
 dency, that can listen to such expressions of fatherly 
 compassion and love, without being cheered and ani- 
 mated.
 
 Serm. 13. Mercy to mourning Penitents. 9.97 
 
 This whole chapter had a primary reference to the 
 Jews, and such of the Israelites as might mingle with 
 them in their return from the Babylonian captivity. 
 As they were enslaved to foreigners, and removed from 
 their native land for their sin, so they could not be 
 restored but upon their repentance. Upon this condi- 
 tion only a restoration was promised them. Lev. xxvi. 
 AQ *3. Dent. xxx. 1 16. 
 
 In this chapter we have a prediction of their repent- 
 ance under the heavy chastisement of seventy years 
 captivity, and of their return thereupon to their own 
 land. In the text the whole body of penitents among 
 them is called by the name of a single person, Ephraim. 
 In the prophetic writings, the kingdom of the ten 
 tribes, as distinguished from that of Judah, is fre- 
 quently denominated by this name, because the Ephrai- 
 mites were a principal family among them. And some- 
 times, as here, the name is given to the Jews, probably 
 on account of the great number of Ephraimites min- 
 gled with them, especially on their return from capti- 
 vity. All the penitent Jews are included under this 
 single name, to intimate their unanimity in their re- 
 pentance; their hearts consented, like the heart of 
 one man, to turn to the Lord, from whom with horrid 
 unanimity they had revolted. This single name Eph- 
 raim also renders this passage more easily applicable to 
 particular penitents in all ages. Every one of such 
 may insert his own name, instead of that of Ephraim, 
 and claim the encouragement originally given to him. 
 And indeed this whole passage is applicable to all true 
 penitents. Repenting Ephraim did but speak the lan- 
 guage of every one of you, my brethren, who is made 
 sensible of the plague of his own heart, and turned to 
 the Lord; and the tender language of forgiving grace 
 to mourning Ephraim is addressed to each of you; and 
 it is with a view to you that I intend to consider this 
 scripture. 
 
 The text naturally resolves itself into three parts, as 
 it consists of three verses. In the first verse we find 
 the careless, resolute impenitent, reduced by chastise- 
 ment to a sense of his danger, and the necessity oi 
 turning to God; and yet sensible of his utter inability.
 
 93 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 and therefore crying for the attractive influences of 
 divine grace. You hear Ephraim bemoaning his 
 wretched case, and pouring out importunate groans for 
 relief thus : Thou hast chastised me, and I was chas- 
 tised, like a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke, that 
 struggles and wearies himself in vain to get free from 
 it, and must be broken and tamed with severe usage. 
 ' Thus stubborn and unmanageable have I been; 
 " and now, when I am convinced of the necessity of 
 " a return to thee, I feel my obstinate heart reluctate, 
 " like a wild ox, and I cannot come. I therefore cry 
 "to thee for the attractive influence of thy grace;'' 
 Turn thou me, and I shall be turned ; draw me, and I 
 shall run after thee. " To whom but to thee should 
 "I return? and to whom but to thee should I apply 
 " for strength to return? For thou only art the Lord 
 '* my God, who can help me, and whom I am under 
 " infinite obligations to serve." Thus the awakened 
 sinner prayed ; and mercy listened to his cries. The 
 attractive influences of divine grace are granted, and 
 he is enabled to return ; which introduces the second 
 branch of the text in the 19th verse, in which the 
 new convert is represented as reflecting upon the effi- 
 cacy of converting grace, and the glorious change 
 wrought in him by it: Surely alter that I was turned, 
 I repented; and after that I was instructed, 1 smote 
 upon my thigh : 1 was ashamed, yea, even cotr/ounded, 
 because I did bear the reproach of my youth. 
 
 While there turning prodigal is venting himself in these 
 plaintive strains in some solitary corner, his heavenly 
 Father's bowels are moving over him. The third part 
 of the text represents the blessed God listening to the 
 cries of his mourning child. / have surely heard; or, 
 according to the emphasis of the original, hearing I 
 have heard Ephraim bemoaning himself : and while 
 Ephraim is going on in his passionate complaints, (rod, 
 as it were, interrupts him, and surprise-; him with the 
 soothing voice of mercy. Is Ehhraim mil daw son ? 
 is he a pleasant child*? surely he is. Or we may un- 
 
 * Though affirmative interrogations arc generally to be understood as 
 strong negations, jet sometimes they arc to be understood affirmatively. 
 See 1 Sam. ii. 2} . 2b. Jul. xx. 4.
 
 Serm. 13. to mourning Penitents. 290 
 
 dcrstancl the words thus, as if God should say, " Whose 
 " mourning voice is this I hear? Is this Ephraim my 
 " dear son? Is this my pleasant child, that hemoans 
 <k himself as a helpless orphan, or one abandoned by 
 " his father ? And can I bear to hear his complaints 
 " without mingling divine consolations with them, and 
 "assuring him of pardon? No; for since I spake 
 " against him in my threatenings, I do earnestly re- 
 " member him still :" therefore my bowels are troubled 
 for him.; 1 will surely have mercy upon him, saith the 
 Lord. 
 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate each of these parts of 
 the text, and thus shall be led to describe the prepa- 
 rative exercises, the nature and concomitants of true 
 repentance; and the tender compassions of heaven to- 
 wards mourning penitents. 
 
 I. Let us view the returning sinner under his first 
 spiritual concern, which is generally preparatory to 
 evangelical repentance. 
 
 And where shall we find him? And what is he doing ? 
 We shall not now find him, as usual, in a thoughtless 
 hurry about earthly things, confining all his attention 
 to these trifles, and unmindful of the important con- 
 cerns of eternity. We shall not find him merry, in- 
 considerate, and vain, in a circle of jovial, careless 
 companions ; much less shall we find him intrepid and 
 secure in a course of sin, gratifying his flesh, and 
 indulging his lusts. In this enchanted road the crowd 
 of hardy impenitents pass secure and cheerful down to 
 the chambers of death, but the awakened sinner flies 
 from it with horror; or, if his depraved heart would 
 tempt him to walk in it, he cannot take many steps 
 before he is shocked with the horrid apparition of 
 impending danger, lie finds the flattering paths of sin 
 haunted with the terrible spectres of guilt, and the 
 sword of divine vengeance gleams bright, and dreadful 
 before him, and seems lifted to give the fatal blow 
 You will therefore find the awakened sinner solitary 
 and solemn, in some retired corner, not deceiving him- 
 self with vain hopes of safety in his present state, but 
 alarmed with apprehensions of danger ; not planning 
 schemes for his secular advantage, nor asking with
 
 300 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 sordid anxiety, " Who will shew me any temporal 
 good?" but solicitous about his perishing soul, and 
 anxiously enquiring, what shall I do to be saved ? He 
 is not congratulating himself upon the imaginary 
 goodness of his heart or life, or priding himself with 
 secret wonder in a rich conceit of his excellencies, but 
 you will hear him in his sorrowful retirement bemoan- 
 ing, or (as the original signifies) condoling himself. 
 He sees his case to be really awful and sad, and he, as 
 it were, takes up a lamentation over himself. He is 
 no more senseless, hard-hearted, and self-applauding, as 
 he was wont to be; but, like a mourning turtle, he 
 bewails himself in such tragical strains as these: 
 " Unhappy creature that I am ! into what a deplorable 
 state have I brought myself ! and how long have I 
 continued in it with the insensibility of a rock, and 
 the stupidity of a brute? Now I may mourn over my 
 past neglected, and unimproved days, as so many de- 
 ceased friends, sent indeed from heaven to do me good, 
 but cruelly killed by my ungrateful neglect and con- 
 tinued delays as to a return to God and holiness. Fly 
 back, ye abused months and years ; arise from the 
 dead ; restore me your precious moments again, that I 
 may unravel the web of life, and form it anew ; and 
 that I may improve the opportunities I have squander- 
 ed away. Vain and desperate wish ! the wheels of 
 time will not return, and what shall I do? Here I am, 
 a guilty, obnoxious creature, uncertain of life, and 
 unlit to die; alienated from God, and incapable! (alas, 
 I may add), unwilling to return; a slave to sin, and 
 too feeble to break the fetters of inveterate habits; 
 liable to the arrest of divine justice, and unable to 
 deliver myself; exposed to the vengeance of heaven, 
 yet can make no atonement; destitute of an interest 
 in Christ, and uncertain, awfully uncertain, whether 
 I shall ever obtain it. Unhappy creature! How justly 
 may I take up a lamentation over myself ! Pity me, 
 ye brute creation, that know not to sin, and therefore 
 cannot know the misery of my ease; and have pity 
 upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends! and if 
 these guilty lips may dare to pronounce thy injured 
 name, O thou God of grace, have pity upon me! 13ut
 
 Seiui. 13. to mourning Penitents. SOI 
 
 alas ! I deserve no pity, for how long have I denied it 
 to myself! Ah! infatuated wretch! why did not I 
 sooner begin to secure my unhappy soul, that has lain 
 all this time neglected and unpitied upon the brink of 
 ruin ! Why did I not sooner lay my condition to 
 heart? Alas, I should have gone on thoughtless still, 
 had I not been awakened by the kind severity, the 
 gracious chastisements of my. dishonoured Father?" 
 
 Thou hast chastised me. This, as spoken by Ephraim, 
 had a particular reference to the Babylonish captivity; 
 but wc may naturally take occasion from it to speak 
 of those calamities in general, whether outward or in- 
 ward, that are made the means of alarming the secure 
 sinner. 
 
 There are many ways which our heavenly Father 
 takes to correct his undutiful children until they return 
 to him. Sometimes he kindly takes away their health, 
 the abused occasion of their wantonness and security, 
 and restrains them from their lusts with fetters of 
 affliction. This is beautifully described by Elihu: 
 lie is chastened with pain upon his bed, and the multi- 
 tude of his bones with strong pain ; so that his life 
 abhorreth bread, and his soul dainty meat. Hisjlesh 
 is consumed away, that it cannot be seen, and his bones, 
 that were not seen, stick out ; yea, his soul drazoeth 
 near unto the grave, and his life unto the destroyers. 
 If there be a messenger with, him, a peculiarly skilful 
 interpreter, one among a thousand, to shew unto man 
 his uprightness, then he is gracious unto him, and saith^ 
 Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found 
 a ransom. Job. xxxiii. 1.'), &c. Sometimes God awa- 
 kens the sinner to bethink himself, by stripping him 
 of his earthly supports and comforts, his estate, or his 
 relatives, which drew away his heart from eternal 
 tilings, and thus brings him to see the necessity of 
 turning to God the fountain of bliss, upon the failure 
 of the streams. Thus he dealt with profligate Manas- 
 >*'h. ( 2 Chron. xxxiii. 11, 112. lie was taken in thorns, 
 anil bound in fetters, and carried to Babylon ; anil 
 when he was in affliction he besought the Lord, and 
 humbled himself greatly before him, and prayed unto 
 1 " v, &c\ Thus also God promises to do with Iuj
 
 502 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 chosen ; I xvill cause you to pass under my rod, and 
 bring you into the bond of' my covenant. Ezek. xx. 37. 
 Psal. Ixxxix. 32. Prov. xxii. 15. xxix. 15. 
 
 But the principal means of correction which God 
 uses for the end of return to him is that of conscience; 
 and indeed without this all the rest are in vain. Out- 
 ward afflictions are of service only as they tend to 
 awaken the conscience from its lethargy to a faithful 
 discharge of its trust. It is conscience that makes the 
 sinner sensible of his misery, and scourges him till he 
 return to his duty. This is a chastisement the most 
 severe that human nature can endure. The lashes of a 
 guilty conscience are intolerable ; and some under them 
 have chosen strangling and death rather than life. The 
 spirit of a man may bear him up under outward infir- 
 mities; but when the spirit itself is wounded, who can 
 bear it? Prov. xviii. 14. Conscience is a serpent in 
 his breast, which bites and gnaws his heart; and he 
 can no more avoid it than he can fly from himself. 
 Its force is so great and universal, that even the hea- 
 then poet Juvenal, not famous for the delicacy of his 
 morals, taught by experience, could speak feelingly of 
 its sceret blows, and of agonizing sweats under its 
 torturesf. 
 
 Let not such of you as have never been tortured 
 with its remorse, congratulate yourselves upon your 
 happiness, for you are not innocents ; and therefore 
 conscience will not always sleep ; it will not always lie 
 torpid and inactive, like a snake benumbed with cold, 
 in your breast. It will awaken you either to your con- 
 version or condemnation. Either the lire of God's 
 wrath flaming from his law will enliven it in this world 
 to sting you with medicinal anguish; or the unquench- 
 able fire of his vengeance, in the lake of fire and 
 
 t Frigida mens est 
 
 Criminibusj tacita sudant praccordia culpa. 
 
 Juven. Sat. I. 
 
 Cur tamen hos tn 
 
 Evasisse putes, rjuos diri conscia facti 
 
 Alen& habet attonitos,, t Sc surdo verbere cacdit, 
 
 Occultum quaticnte aninio tortorc flagellum ? 
 
 Id. Sat. XIII,
 
 Serm. 15. to mourning Penitents. 303 
 
 brimstone will thaw it into life, and then it will horri- 
 bly rage in your breast, and diffuse its tormenting 
 poison through your whole frame: then it will become 
 a never-dying worm, and prey upon your hearts for 
 ever. But if you now suffer it to pain you with salu- 
 tary remorse, and awaken you to a tender sensibility of 
 your danger, this intestine enemy will in the end be- 
 come your bosom-friend, will support you under every 
 calamity, and be your faithful companion and guardian 
 through the most dangerous paths of life. Therefore 
 now submit to its wholesome severities, now yield to 
 its chastisements. Such of you as have submitted to 
 its authority, and obeyed its faithful admonitions, find 
 it your best friend; and you now bless the day in 
 which you complied with its demands ; though before 
 divine grace renewed your heart, your wills were stub- 
 born and reluctant; and you might say, with Ephraim, 
 J was cJiastised as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke \ 
 that is, " As a wild young ox, unbroken from the herd, 
 is unmanageable, refuses the yoke, becomes outrageous 
 at the whip or goad, and wearies himself in ineffectual 
 struggles to throw off the burden clapt upon him, and 
 regain his savage liberty, and never will submit until 
 wearied out, and unable to resist any longer ; so has 
 my stubborn heart, unaccustomed to obey, refused the 
 yoke of thy law, O my God, and struggled with sullen 
 obstinacy under thy chastisements. Instead of calmly 
 submitting to thy rod, and immediately reforming- 
 under correction, instead of turning to thee, and flying 
 to thy arms to avoid the falling blow, I was unyielding 
 and outrageous, like a wild hull in a net. Isaiah li. 0. 
 I wearied myself in desperate struggles to free myself 
 from thy chastising hand ; or vainly tried to harden 
 myself to hear it with obdurate insensibility. I tried 
 to break the rod of conscience that I might no more 
 groan under its lashes, and my heart reluctated and 
 rebelled against the gracious design of thy correction, 
 which was to bring me hack to thee my heavenly 
 Father. But now I am wearied out, now I am sensible 
 J must submit, or perish, and that my conscience is too 
 strong for me, and must prevail."
 
 304- The Divine Mercy Serm. 15. 
 
 .You see, my brethren, the obstinate reluctance of 
 an awakened sinner to return to God. Like a wild 
 young bullock, he would range at large, and is impa- 
 tient of the yoke of the law, and the restraints of 
 conscience. He loves his sin and cannot bear to part 
 with it. He has no relish for the exercises of devotion 
 and ascetic mortification ; and therefore will not sub- 
 mit to them. The way of holiness is disagreeable to 
 his depraved heart, and he will not turn his feet to it. 
 He loves to be stupidly easy and serene in mind, and 
 cannot bear to be checked in his pursuit of business 
 or pleasure by anxieties of heart, and therefore he is 
 impatient of the honest warnings of his consience, and 
 uses a variety of wretched expedients to silence its 
 clamorous remonstrances. In short, he will do any 
 thing, he will turn to any thing rather than turn to 
 God. If his conscience will be but satisfied, he will 
 forsake many of his sins; he will, like Herod, Mark 
 vi. 20. do many things, and walk in the whole round 
 of outward duties. All this he will do, if his con- 
 science will be but bribed by it. But if conscience 
 enlarges its demands, and, after he has reformed his 
 life, requires him to make him a new heart, requires 
 him to turn not not only from the outward practice of 
 gross vices, but from the love of all sin; not only to 
 turn to the observance of religious duties, but to turn 
 to the Lord with all his heart, and surrender himself 
 entirely to him, and make it the main business of life 
 to serve him ; if conscience, I say, carries its demands 
 thus far, he cannot bear it, he struggles to throw off 
 the yoke. And some are cursed with horrid success in 
 the attempt : they are permitted to rest content in a 
 partial reformation, or external religion, as sufficient, 
 and so go down to the grave xcith a lie in their rig lit 
 hand But the happy soul, on whom divine grace is 
 determined to finish its work in spite of all opposition, 
 is suffered to weary itself out in a vain resistance of the 
 chastisements of conscience, till it is obliged to yield, 
 and submit to the yoke. And then with Ephraim it 
 will cry, 
 
 Turn thou me, and I shall be turned This is the 
 mourning sinner's language, when convinced that he
 
 Ser.m. 13. to mounting Peiiitents. 30J 
 
 must submit and turn to God, and in the mean time finds 
 himself utterly unable to turn. Many essays he makes 
 to give himself to the Lord; but ! his heart starts back, 
 and shrinks away, as though he were rushing into flames, 
 when he is but flying to the gracious embraces of his 
 Father. He strives, and strives to drag it along, but all 
 in vain. And what shall he do in this extremity, but 
 cry, " Lord, turn thou me, and I shall he turned; 
 draw me, and I shall run after thee. Work in me to 
 will and to do, and then I shall xvork out my own sal- 
 vation ! Lord, though I am sensible of the necessity of 
 turning to thee, though I exert my feeble strength in 
 many a languid effort to come, yet I cannot ; I cannot 
 so much as creep towards thee, though I should die on 
 the spot. Not only thy word, but my own experience 
 now convinces me that I cannot come unto thee, unless 
 thou draw me. John vi. 44. Others vainly boast of their 
 imaginary power, as though, when they set themselves 
 about it they could perform some great atchievements. 
 Thus I once flattered myself, but now, when I am most 
 capable of judging, that is, when I come to the trial, all 
 mv boasts are humbled. Here I lie, an helpless creature, 
 unable to go to the physician, unable to accept of pardon 
 and life on the easy terms of the gospel, and unable to 
 free myself from the bondage of sin : and thus I must- 
 lie for ever, unless that God from whom I have revolted, 
 draws me back to himself. Turn me, O thou that hast 
 the hearts of all men in thy hands, and canst turn them 
 whithersoever thou pleasest, turn me; and then, weak 
 and reluctant as I am, I shall be turned ; this backward 
 heart will yield to the almighty attraction of thy grace. 
 
 " Here am I as passive clay in the hand of the 
 potter; incapable to fashion myself into a vessel fit for 
 thy house; but thou canst form me as thou pleasest. 
 This hard and stubborn heart will be ductile and pliable 
 to thine irresistible power." Thus you see the awakened 
 sinner is driven to earnest prayer in his exigence. Never 
 did a drowning man call for help, or a condemned ma- 
 lefactor plead for pardon with more sincerity and ardour. 
 II the sinner had neglected praver all his life before, now 
 he (lies to it as the onlv expedient left, or if he formerly 
 ran it over in a '.airless unthinking manner, as an insig- 
 
 W.J.I. X
 
 306 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. . 
 
 nificant form, now he exerts all the importunity of his 
 soul ; now he prays as for his life, and cannot rest till his 
 desires are answered. 
 
 The sinner ventures to enforce his petition by pleading 
 his relation to God ; Turn me>~-j'or thou art the Lord 
 my God. There is sense in which a sinner in his un- 
 regenerate state cannot call God his God ; that is, he 
 cannot claim a special interest in him as his portion, nor 
 cry " Abba Father" with the spirit of adoption, as re- 
 conciled to God. But even an unregenerate sinner may 
 call him my God in other senses ; he is his God by right, 
 that is, though he has idolatrously yielded himself to 
 other gods, yet by right he should have acknowledged 
 him only. He is his God as that name denotes authority 
 and power, to which all should be subject ; his God, as 
 he would now choose him to be his God, his portion, 
 and his all, which is implied in turning to him ; he is his 
 God by anticipation and hope, as upon his turning to 
 him he will become his reconciled God in covenant ; and 
 he is his God by outward profession and visible relation. 
 The force of this argument to urge his petition for con- 
 verting grace, may be viewed in various lights. 
 
 It may be understood thus ; fC Turn thou me, for thou 
 only, who art the Lord of the universe, and hast all the 
 creation at thy controul ; thou only, who art my God 
 and ruler, and in whose hand my heart is, art able to turn 
 so obstinate a creature. In vain do I seek for help else- 
 where. Not all the means upon earth, not all the per- 
 suasions, exhortations, invitations, and terrors that can be 
 used with me, can turn this heart ; it is a work becoming 
 the Lord God Almighty, and it is thou alone canst effect 
 it." 
 
 Or we may understand the plea thus : " Turn thou me, 
 and I shall turn to thee ; to thee who art the Lord my 
 God, and to whom I am under the most sacred obliga- 
 tions to return, I would resign thine own right to thee; 
 I would submit to thee who alone hast a just claim to me 
 as thy servant." 
 
 Or the words may be understood as an abjuration of 
 all the idol-lusts to which the sinner was enslaved before. 
 <c I will turn to thee ; for to whom should I turn but 
 to the Lord my God? What have I to do any more
 
 SerM. 13. to mourning Penitents., 307 
 
 With idols. Hosea xiv. 8. Why should I any longer sub- 
 mit to other Lords, who have no right to me ? I would 
 renounce them all; I would throw off all subjection to 
 them, and avouch thee alone for the Lord my God." 
 Thus the Jews renounced their false gods upon their 
 return from Babylon. 
 
 Or we may understand the words as an encouragement 
 to hope for converting grace, since it is asked from a 
 God o( infinite power and goodness. " Though I have 
 most grievously offended, and had I done the thousandth 
 part so much against my fellow creatures, I could never 
 expect a favourable admission into their presence ; yet I 
 dare ask so great a favour of thee, for thou art God, and 
 not man : thy power and thy grace are all divine, such as 
 become a God. I therefore dare to hope for that from 
 thy hands, which I might despair of from all the universe 
 of beings beside." 
 
 Or finally, the passage may be looked upon as a plea 
 drawn from the sinner's external relation to God, as a 
 member of his visible church, and as dedicated to him. 
 " Turn me, and I will turn to thee, whose name I bear, 
 and to whom I have been early devoted. I would now 
 of my own choice acknowledge the God of my fathers, 
 and return to the Guide of my youth. And, since thou 
 hast honoured me with a place in thy visible church, I 
 humbly hope thou wilt not reject me now, when I would 
 sincerely consecrate myself to thee, and become thy ser- 
 vant in reality, as well as in appearance." In this sense 
 the plea might be used with peculiar propriety by the 
 Jews, who had been nationally adopted as the peculiar 
 people of God. 
 
 In whatever sense we understand the words, they con- 
 vey to us this important truth, that the awakened sinner 
 is obliged to take all his encouragement from God, and 
 not from himself. All his trust is in the divine mercy, 
 and he is brought to an happy self-despair. 
 
 Having viewed Ephraim under the preparatory work of 
 legal conviction, and the dawn of evangelical repentance, 
 let us view him, 
 
 II. As reflecting upon the surprising efficacy of grace 
 he had sought, and which was bestowed upon him in 
 answer to his prayer.
 
 508 The Divine Mercy Serm. u> 
 
 We left him just now crying, Turn thou me, and I 
 shall be turned; here we find him actually turned. 
 Surely after that I teas turned, I repented. When the 
 Lord exerts his power to subdue the stubbornness of the 
 sinner, and sweetly to allure him to himself, then the 
 sinner repents; then his heart dissolves in ingenuous dis- 
 interested relenting*. His sorrow and concern before 
 conversion are forced and mercenary ; they are occasion- 
 ed only by a selfish fear of punishment, and he would 
 willingly get rid of them, but now his grief is free and 
 spontaneous ; it flows from his heart as freely as streams 
 from a fountain ; and he takes pleasure in tender relent- 
 ings before the Lord for his sin; he delights to be hum- 
 ble, and to feel his heart dissolve within him. An heart 
 of flesh, soft and susceptive of impressions, is his choice, 
 and a stony insensible heart his greatest burden ; the 
 more penitent the more happy, and the more senseless, 
 the more miserable he finds himself. Now also his heart 
 is actuated with a generous concern for the glory of God; 
 and he sees the horrid evil of sin as contrary to the holi- 
 ness of God, and an ungrateful requital of his uninter- 
 rupted beneficence. 
 
 We learn from this passage, that the true penitent is 
 sensible of a mighty turn in his temper and inclinations. 
 Surely after that I was turned, I repented. His whole 
 soul is turned from what he formerly delighted in, and 
 turned to what he had no relish for before. Particularly 
 his thoughts, his will, and affections are turned to God ; 
 there is an heavenly bias communicated to them, which 
 draws them to holiness, like the law of gravitation in the 
 material world. There is indeed a new turn given to 
 this outward practice ; the world may in some measure. 
 see that he is a new man: but this is not all; the first 
 spring that turns all the wheels of the soul and actions of 
 life is the heart, and this is first set right. The change 
 within is as evident as that without, could our eyes pene- 
 trate the heart. In short, If any man be i?i Christ, he is 
 throughout a new creature : old things arc passed 
 away, and behold, all things arc become ?icw. 
 
 Apply this touchstone to your hearts my brethren, and 
 ace if they will stand the test
 
 Serm. 13. to mourning Penitents. 309 
 
 The penitent proceeds, After that I was instructed, 
 I smote upon my thigh. The same grace that turns him 
 does also instruct him ; nay, it is by discovering to him 
 the beauty of holiness, and the glory of God in the face 
 of Jesus Christ, that it draws him. He is brought out 
 of darkness into marvellous and astonishing light, that 
 surprises him with new discoveries of things: he is in- 
 structed particular] v, as to the necessity of turning to 
 God, as to the horrid ingratitude, vileness, and deformity 
 of sin, and as to his folly and wickedness in continuing 
 so long alienated from God. By the way, have you ever 
 been let into these secrets, my hearers? And when in- 
 structed in these, 
 
 ' f He smites upon his thigh." This gesture denotes 
 consternation and amazement ; and nature directs us thus 
 to express these passions. Ezekiel is injoined to use this 
 gesture as a prophetic action signifying the horror and 
 astonishment of his mind. Ezekiel xxi. 12. This action, 
 therefore, of the penitent, intimates what consternation 
 and amazement he is cast into, when these new discove- 
 ries flash upon his soul. He stands amazed at himself. 
 He is struck with horror to think what an ungrateful, 
 ignorant, stupid wretch he has been all his life till this 
 happv moment. " Alas ! what have I been doing ? abus- 
 ing all my days in ruining my own soul, and dishonour- 
 ing the God of all my mercies ! contentedly estranged 
 from him, and not seeking to return ! Where were my 
 eyes, that I never before saw the horrid evil of my con- 
 duct, and the shocking deformity of sin, which now opens 
 to me in all its hideous colours! Amazing! that divine 
 vengeance has not broken out upon me before now ! 
 Can it be that I am yet alive ! in the land of hope too ! 
 yea, alive, an humble pardoned penitent ! Let heaven 
 and earth wonder at this, for surely the sun never shone 
 upon a wretch so undesening ! so great a monument of 
 merrv !" 
 
 The pardoned penitent proceeds, / was ashamed, 
 jji'a, eve// confounded, because I did bear the reproach, 
 of mij youth. We are ashamed when we are caught in 
 a mean, base, and scandalous action, we blush, and are 
 confounded, and know not where to look, or what to say, 
 Jims the penitent is heartily ashamed of himself when 
 
 X J
 
 310 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 he reflects upon the sordid dispositions he has indulged, 
 and the base and scandalous actions he has committed. 
 He blushes at his own inspection; he is confounded at 
 his own tribunal. He appears to himself, a mean, base, 
 contemptible wretch ; and, though the world may honour 
 him, he lcaths himself, as viler than the earth he treads 
 on ; and is secretly ashamed to see the face of man. 
 And how then shall he appear before God ? how shall he 
 hold up his face in the presence of his injured Father ? 
 He comes to him ashamed, and covering his head. He 
 knows not what to say to him ; he knows not how to 
 look him in the face, but he falls down abashed and-con- 
 founded at his feet. Thus was penitent Ezra ashamed 
 before God. He fell upon his knees, and lifted us his 
 hands (his eyes, like the publican, he durst not lift up) 
 unto the heavens, and he says, O my God, I am ashamed, 
 and blush to lift my face to thee, my God ; for our ini- 
 quities are increased oxer our heads, and our trespasses 
 are grown up into the heavens.* And now, O our God, 
 what shall we say after this ? for we have broken thy 
 commandments. Ezra. ix. 5 10. Thus it was foretold 
 concerning the repenting Jews. Then thou s'halt re^ 
 member thy evil ways and be ashamed. Thou shalt be 
 confounded, and never open thy mouth any more, be- 
 cause of thy shame. Ezek. xvi. 6 1, 63. There is good 
 reason for this conscious shame, and therefore it is en- 
 joined as a duty : Not for your sakes do I this unto you, 
 saith the Lord God, be it known unto you : be ashamed 
 and confounded for your own ways, O house of Israel. 
 Ezek. xxx vi, 32. 
 
 And what is the cause of this shame in the mourning 
 penitent? " O (says he) it is because I bear the re- 
 proach of my youth. " I cany upon me (as the origi- 
 nal word signifies) the brand of infamy. My youth, 
 alas ! was spent in a thoughtless neglect of God and the 
 duties I owed him; my vigorous days were wasted in sen- 
 sual extravagances, and gratifying my criminal inclina- 
 tions. My prime of life, which should have been sacred 
 to the Author of my existence, was spent in rebellion 
 against him. Alas! my first thoughts, my virgin love, 
 did not aspire to him ; nor did my young desires, as 
 soon as fledged, wing their flight to heaven, In short,
 
 Serm. 13. to mourning Penitents, 311 
 
 the temper of my heart, and my course of life, from the 
 first exercises of reason to this happy hour of my conver- 
 sion, were a disgrace to my rational nature; I have de- 
 graded myself beneath the beasts that perish. Behold, I 
 (i77i vile ! I loath a7id abhor myself for all my Jilthiness 
 and abominations. Ezek. xxxvi. 51. " And how amaz- 
 ing the grace of God, to honour so base a wretch with a 
 place among the children of his love !" 
 
 Thus I have delineated the heart of penitent Ephraim; 
 and let me ask you, my brethren, is this your picture ? 
 Have von ever felt such ingenuous relentings, such just 
 consternation, such holy shame and confusion ? There 
 can be no transition from nature to grace without pre- 
 vious concern, &c. You all bear the reproach of that 
 youth, you have all spent some unhappy days in the 
 scandalous ways of sin, and your consciences still bear 
 the brand of infamy. And have you ever been made 
 deeply sensible of it ! Has God ever heard you bemoan- 
 ing yourselves thus in some mournful solitude, (< Thou 
 hast chastised me, and I was chastised, as a bullock un- 
 accustomed to the yoke." Is there any such mourner 
 here this day ? then listen to the gracious voice of your 
 heavenly Father, while, 
 
 III. I am illustrating the last, the sweetest part of the 
 text, which expresses the tender compassion of God to- 
 wards mourning penitents. 
 
 While they are bemoaning their case, and conscious 
 that they do not deserve one look of love from God, he 
 is represented as attentively listening to catch the first 
 penitential groan that breaks from their hearts. Ephraim, 
 in the depth of his despondency, probably did hardly 
 hope that God took any notice of his secret sorrows, 
 which he suppressed as much as possible from the public 
 view : but God heard him, God was watching to hear the 
 first mournful cry ; and he repeats all his complaints, to 
 let him know (after the manner of men) what particular 
 notice he had taken of them. " / have surely heard, or 
 hearing I have heard;" that is, " I have attentively heard 
 Ephraim bemoaning himself thus." 
 
 \\ hat strong consolation may this give to desponding 
 mourners, who think themselves neglected by that God 
 
 X4
 
 312 The Divine Mercy Se r m . 13. 
 
 to whom they are pouring out their weeping supplica- 
 tions ! He hears your secret groans, he courts your sighs, 
 and puts your tears into his bottle. His eyes penetrate 
 all the secrets of your heart, and he observes all their 
 feeble struggles to turn to himself; and he beholds you 
 not as an unconcerned spectator, but with all the tender 
 emotions of fatherly compassion: for, 
 
 While he is listening to Ephraim's mournful complaints, 
 he abruptly breaks in upon him, and sweet surprises him 
 with the warmest declarations of pity and grace. " Is 
 this Ephraim, my dear son, whose mourning voice I hear ? 
 Is this my pleasant child, or (as it might be rendered) 
 the child of my delights, who thus wouuds my ear with 
 his heart-rending groans ?" What strange language this 
 to an ungrateful, unyielding rebel, that continued obsti- 
 nate till he was wearied out; that would not turn till 
 drawn ; that deserved to fall a victim to justice ! This is 
 the language of compassion all divine, of grace that be- 
 comes a God. 
 
 This passage contains a most encouraging truth, that, 
 however vile and abandoned a sinner has been, yet, upon 
 his repentance, he becomes God's dear son, his favourite 
 child. He will, from that moment regard him, provide 
 for him, protect him, and bring him to his heavenly in- 
 heritance, as his son and heir ; for Neither* death, nor 
 life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor 
 things present, nor things to come, Szc. Rom. viii. 38., 
 &c. shall separate him from his Father s love ; bathe 
 shall inherit all things. Rev. xxi. 7. Yea, all things are 
 his already in title, and he shall be made greater than 
 the kings of the earth ; he shall be made such as becomes 
 so dignified a relation as that of a Son to the King of 
 kings and Lord of lords. 
 
 And is not this magnet sufficient to attract all this 
 assembly to their Father's house ? Can you resist the 
 almighty energv of such compassion? Return, ye perish- 
 ing prodigals ! Return ; though you have sinned against 
 Heaven and before your father, and are no more worthy 
 to be called his sons, yet return, and you shall be made 
 his dear sons, his pleasant children. 
 
 Are none of you in need of such strong consolation 
 as this? Do you want encouragement to return, and are
 
 Sbrm. 13. to mourning Penitents. S13 
 
 you ready to spring up and run to your father's arms, 
 upon the first assurance of acceptance ? If this be what 
 you want, you have an abundance for your supply. Are 
 all your souls then in motion to return ? Does that eye 
 which darts through the whole creation at once, now 
 behold your hearts moving towards God ! Or am I wast- 
 ing these gracious encouragements upon stupid creatures, 
 void of sensation, that do not care for them, or that are so 
 conceited of their own worth, as not to need them ? if 
 so, I retract these consolations, with respect to you, and 
 shall presently tell you your doom. But let us farther 
 pursue these melting strains of paternal pity. 
 
 " For since I spake against him, 1 do earnestly remem- 
 ber him still." Alany and dreadful were the threatenings 
 denounced against the sinner, while impenitent ; and, 
 had he continued impenitent, they would certainly have 
 been executed upon him. But the primary and imme- 
 diate design of the threatenings are to make men happy, 
 and not to make them miserable; they arc designed to 
 deter them from disobedience, which is naturally produc- 
 tive of misery, or to reclaim them from it, which is but 
 to restrain them in their career to ruin. And conse- 
 quently these threatenings proceed from love as well as 
 the promises of our God, from love to the person, though 
 from hatred to sin. So the same love which prompts a 
 parent to promise a reward to his son for obedience, will 
 prompt him aiso to threaten him, if he takes some dan- 
 gerous weapon to plav with : or, to choose a more per- 
 tinent illustration, for God is the moral ruler as well as 
 father of the rational world ; the same regard to the 
 public weal, which induces a lawgiver to annex a reward 
 to obedience, will also prompt him to add penalties to 
 his law to deter from disobedience; and his immediate 
 design is not to make any of his subjects miserable, but 
 to keep them from making themselves and others mise- 
 rable by disobedience ; though, when the threatening is 
 once denounced, it is necessary it should be executed, 
 to vindicate the veracity of the lawgiver, and secure his 
 government from insult and contempt. Thus when the 
 primary end of the divine threatenings, namely, the 
 deterring and reclaiming men from disobedience is not 
 obtained, then it becomes necessary that they should be
 
 314 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 executed upon the impenitent in all their dreadful 
 extent ; but when the sinner is brought to repentance, 
 and to submit to the divine government, then all these 
 threatenings are repealed, and they shall not hurt one 
 hair of his head. And the sinner himself will acknow- 
 ledge that these threatenings proved necessary mercies 
 to him, and that the denunciation of everlasting pu- 
 nishment was one means of bringing him to everlast- 
 'ing happiness, and that divine vengeance in this sense 
 conspired with divine grace to save them. 
 
 Consider this, ye desponding penitents, and allay 
 your terrors. That God, who has written such bitter 
 things against you in his word, earnestly and affection- 
 ately remembers you still, and it was with a kind intent 
 to you that he thundered out these terrors at which 
 you tremble. These acids, this bitter physic, were 
 necessary for your recovery. These coals of fire were 
 necessary to awaken you out of your lethargy. There- 
 fore read the love of your Father, even in these solemn 
 warnings. He affectionately remembers you still; he 
 cannot put you out of his thoughts. 
 
 There/ore my boxvels (adds the all-gracious Jehovah) 
 are troubled for him. Astonishing beyond concep- 
 tion! How can v r e bear up under such words as these? 
 Surely they must break our hearts, and overwhelm our 
 spirits ! Here is the great God, who has millions of 
 superior beings to serve him, and who is absolutely 
 independent upon them all, troubled, his very bowels 
 troubled, for a rebellious, useless, trifling worm! Be 
 astonished at this, ye angels of light, who are the 
 witnesses of such amazing, such unbounded compas- 
 sion ! and wonder at it, O ye sons of men, who are 
 more intimately concerned in it, stand and adore, as it 
 were, in statues of admiration ! It is true these words 
 are not to be taken literally, as though the Deity were 
 capable of sorrow, or any of the human passions; but 
 he here condescends to adapt himself to the language 
 of mortals, and to borrow such images as will convey 
 to us the most lively ideas of his grace and tenderness 
 to mourning penitents; and no image can answer this 
 end better than that of a Father, whose bowels are 
 yearning over his mourning child, prostrate at his feet,
 
 Seum. 13. to mourning Penitents. 315 
 
 and who, with eager embraces, raises him up, assuring 
 him of pardon and acceptance. If any of you know 
 what it is to receive a penitent child in this manner, 
 while all the father is tenderly working within you, 
 you may form some affecting ideas of the readiness of 
 our heavenly Father to receive returning sinners from 
 this tender illustration. 
 
 The Lord concludes this moving speech with a pro- 
 mise that includes in it more than we can ask or think, 
 sealed with his own sacred name. / will surely have 
 mercy, or (according to the more emphatical original) 
 with mercy, I will have mercy upon him, saith the 
 Lord: that is, I will shew abundant mercy to him, I 
 will give him all the blessings that infinite mercy can 
 bestow; and what can be needed more? This promise 
 includes pardon, acceptance, sanctiiication, joy in the 
 Holy Ghost, peace of conscience, and immortal life 
 and glory in the future world. O sirs ! what a God, 
 what a Father is this ! Who is a God like unto thee, 
 that pardoneth iniquity, Sec. JVIich. vii. 18. 
 
 And can you, ye mourners in Zion, can you fear a 
 rejection from such a tender Father? Can you dread 
 to venture upon such abundant mercies ? Is there a 
 mourning Ephraim in this assembly? I may call you, 
 as God did Adam, Ephraim, where art thou? Let 
 the word of God find you out, and force a little en- 
 couragement upon you : your heavenly Father, whose 
 angry hand you fear, is listening to your groans, and 
 will measure you out a mercy for every groan, a bless- 
 ing for every sigh, a drop, a draught of consolation, 
 for every tear. His bowels are moving over you, and 
 he addresses you in such language as this, "Is this my 
 dear son ? is this my pleasant child ?" &c. 
 
 And as to you, ye hardy impenitents, ye abandoned 
 profligates, ye careless formalists, ye almost christians, 
 can vou hear these things, and not begin now to relent ? 
 Do you not find your frozen hearts begin to thaw 
 within you ? Can you resist such alluring grace ? Can 
 you bear the thoughts of continuing enemies to so 
 good, so forgiving a Father? Docs not Ephraim's pe- 
 tition now rise in your hearts, Turn thou me, and I 
 shall be turned? then 1 congratulate you upon this
 
 316 The Divine Mercy Serm. 13. 
 
 happy clay ; you are this day become God's dear sons, 
 the children of his delights, &c. 
 
 Is there a wretch so senseless, so wicked, so aban- 
 doned, as to refuse to return ? Where art thou, hardy 
 rebel ? Stand forth, and meet the terrors of thy doom. 
 To thee I must change my voice, and, instead of re- 
 presenting the tender compassions of a Father, must 
 denounce the terrors of an angry judge. Thy doom 
 is declared and fixt by the same lips that speak to 
 penitents in such encouraging strains; by those gra- 
 cious lips that never uttered an harsh censure. God is 
 angry with thee every day. Psalm, vii. U. Except 
 thou repentest, thou shalt surely perish. Luke xiii. 3. 
 The example of Christ authorizes me to repeat it 
 again ; Except thou repentest, thou shalt surety perish, 
 ver. 5. The God that made thee will destroy thee ; and 
 he that formed thee will shezv thee no favour. Isai. xxvi. 
 11. Thou art treasuring up wrath in horrid affluence 
 against the day of wrath. Rom. ii. 5. God is jealous, 
 and revengeth ; the Lord revengeth, and is furious ; 
 the Lord will take revenge on his adversaries ; and he 
 reserveth wrath for his enemies. The mountains quake 
 at him : the hills melt ; the earth is burnt at his pre- 
 sence; yea, the world, and they that dwell therein. 
 Who can stand before his indignation ? Who can en- 
 dure in the fierceness of his anger ? His jury is 
 poured out like fire, and the rocks are thrown down 
 by him. Nahum i. 2 6. These flaming thunder-bolts, 
 sinner, are aimed at thy heart, and, if thou canst 
 harden thyself against their terror, let me read thee 
 thy doom before we part. You have it pronounced 
 by God himself in Deuteronomy, the twenty-ninth 
 chapter, at the nineteenth and following verses, //' it 
 come to pass that when he heareth the words of this 
 curse, that he bless himself in his heart, saying, I shall 
 have peace, though I walk in the imagination of my 
 heart The Lord will not spare him ; but then the 
 anger of the Lord and his jealousy shall smoke against 
 that man, and all the curses that arc written in this 
 book shall lie upon him, and the L,ord shall blot out his 
 name from under heaven ; and the Lord shall separate 
 him unto evil out of all the tribes of Lsracl, according
 
 Serm. 13. to ?nourninsr Penitents. 317 
 
 'o 
 
 to all the curses of the covenant that are written in 
 this book of the law. And now sinner, if thou canst 
 return home careless and senseless with this heavy 
 curse upon thee, expect not a word of comfort, expect 
 no blessing till thou art made truly penitent ; for 
 " how shall I bless whom God has not blessed?" 
 The ministerial blessing fails upon one on thy right 
 hand, and one on thy left, but it lights not upon 
 thee. The curse is thy lot, and this must thou have 
 at the hand of God, if thou continuest hardened and 
 insolent in sin. Thou must lie dozen in sorrow. Isai. 
 1. 1 1 . Consider this, all ye that forget God, lest he 
 tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver. Psalm. 
 1. 2.
 
 SEKMOM XIV. 
 Christ precious to all true Believers. 
 
 1 Peter ii. 7. 
 Unto you therefore which believe, He is precious*. 
 
 YES; blessed be God !. though a great part of the 
 creation is disaffected to Jesus Christ; though 
 fallen spirits, both in flesh and without flesh, both 
 upon earth and in hell, neglect him, or profess them- 
 selves open enemies to him, yet he is precious; pre- 
 cious, not only in himself, not only to his Father, not 
 only to the choirs of Heaven, who behold his full 
 glory without a veil, but precious to some even in our 
 guilty world; precious to a sort of persons of our sin- 
 ful race, who make no great figure in mortal eyes, who 
 have no idea of their own goodness, who are mean, un- 
 worthy creatures in their own view, and who are gene- 
 rally despicable in the view of others ; I mean, he is 
 precious to all true believers. And, though they 
 are but few comparatively in our world ; though there 
 are, I am afraid, but few additions made to them from 
 among us ; yet, blessed be God, there are some be- 
 lievers even upon our guilty globe; and 1 doubt not, 
 but I am now speaking to some such. 
 
 My believing brethren (if I may venture to claim 
 kindred with you), I am now entering upon a design, 
 which I know you have much at heart; and that is, 
 to make the blessed Jesus more precious to you, and, 
 if possible, to recommend him to the affections of the 
 crowd that neglect him. You know, alas ! you love 
 him but little ; but very little, compared to his infinite 
 
 Or. preciousne^ in the abstract, ripy.
 
 Serm. 14. Christ precious to all true Believers. 319 
 
 excellency and your obligations to him ; and you know 
 that multitudes love him not at ail. Whatever they 
 profess, their practice shews that their carnal mind is 
 enmity against him. This you often see, and the sight 
 affects your hearts. It deeply affects you to think so 
 much excellency should be neglected and despised, 
 and so much love meet with such base returns of in- 
 gratitude. And you cannot but pity your poor fellow- 
 sinners, that they are so blind to the brightest glory 
 and their own highest interest, and that they should 
 perish, through wilful neglect of their deliverer; perish, 
 as it were, within reach of the hand stretched out to 
 save them. This is indeed a very affecting, very 
 lamentable, and alas ! a very common sight. And will 
 you not then bid me God speed this day in my attempt 
 to recommend this precious, though neglected, Jesus ? 
 Will you not contribute your share towards my success 
 I in so pious and benevolent a design by your earnest 
 prayers? Now, shall not the interceding sigh rise to 
 Heaven from every heart, and every soul be cast into 
 a praying posture ? I shall hope to discharge my duty 
 with more comfort and advantage, if you afford me 
 this assistance. And surely such of you cannot denv 
 me this aid, who desire that Jesus may become still 
 more precious to your own hearts, and that he may be 
 the object of universal love from all the sons of men, 
 who are now disaffected to him ! 
 
 To you that believe, he is precious He ? Who ? 
 Is it Mammon, the God of the world? Is it pleasure, 
 or honour ? No ; none of these is the darling of the 
 believing heart. But it is he who is the uppermost in 
 every pious heart ; he, who is the first in the thoughts 
 and affections ; he, whom every friend of his must 
 know, even without a name ; if it be but said of him 
 he is precious, this is enough to distinguish him from 
 all others. " If it be he the apostle means, may every 
 " believer say, who is most precious to my soul, then I 
 " can easily point him out, though without a name. 
 "It must be Jesus, for O ! it is he that is most pre- 
 " cious to me." The connection also of the text 
 directs us to the same person. It is he the apostle 
 means, whom he had just described as a living stone,
 
 520 Christ precious to Serii. 14. 
 
 chosen of God, and the precious ; the chief corner- 
 stone, the great foundation of the church, that spiritual 
 temple of God, so stately and glorious, and reaching 
 from earth to heaven ; it is this precious stone, this 
 heavenly Jewel, that is precious to believers. 
 
 "To you that believe, he ie precious;" i. e. He is 
 highly valued by you. You esteem him one of infinite 
 worth, and he has the highest place in your affections. 
 He is dearer to your hearts than all other persons and 
 things. The word r^v requires a still stronger tran- 
 slation: "To you that believe, he is preciousness ;" 
 preciousness in the abstract ; all preciousness, and no- 
 thing but preciousness; a precious stone without one 
 blemish. Or it may be translated with a little varia- 
 tion, " To you that believe, he is honour.*' It confers 
 the highest honour upon you to be related to him ; and 
 you esteem it your highest honour to sustain that rela- 
 tion. Though Jesus and his cross are names of re- 
 proach in the unbelieving world, you glory in them, 
 and they reflect a real glory upon you. Or, " To you 
 that believe, there is honour*." Honour is now con- 
 ferred upon you in your being built as living stones in 
 the temple of God upon this precious foundation ; and 
 honour is reserved for you in heaven, where the crown 
 of righteousness awaits you. 
 
 " To you which believe, he is precious ;" that is to 
 say, the value of this precious stone is, alas! unknown 
 to the crowd. It is so far from being precious, that 
 it is a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence; a 
 stone disallowed of men (v. 4. ) rejected even by the 
 builders (v. 7.~) ; but you believers, ye happy i'cw, 
 have another estimate of it. Faith enables you to see 
 the glories of the blessed Jesus; and, when you know 
 him through this medium, you cannot but love him. 
 The blind world neglect the Lord of Glory, because 
 they know him not : but you believers know him, and 
 therefore to you he is precious. Faith presents him 
 to your view in a just light, and directs you to form a 
 proper estimate of him. It is truly lamentable that 
 
 * The pronoun !", i? not in the original; but Hi? passage reads thus : 
 To you u-ko bdieue, honour.
 
 Sehm. 14. all true Believers. 5<2\ 
 
 such real excellency should be despised ; but so it will 
 be with the world till they believe. The mere specu- 
 lative recommendation or'- their reason, the preposses- 
 sions of education in his favour, and the best human 
 means, are not sufficient to render Jesus precious to 
 them. Nothing but saving faith can etfect this. 
 
 To you therefore which believe, he is precious. The 
 illative particle therefore shews this passage as an in- 
 ference from what went before; and the reasoning 
 seems to be this : " This stone is precious to God, 
 therefore it is precious to you that believe. You have 
 the same estimate of Jesus Christ which God the 
 leather has ; and for that very reason he is precious to 
 you, because he is precious to him." That this is the 
 connection, will appear if you look back to the 4th 
 and (hh verses; where you find Jesus described as " a 
 chief corner-stone, laid in Zion, elect or chosen, and 
 precious disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of 
 God, and precious*." Men wickedly disapprove this 
 stone, and even many of the professed builders of his 
 church reject him. This, says the apostle, must be 
 granted. J3ut this is no objection to his real worth. 
 Jle is precious to God, who knows him best, and who 
 is a perfect judge of real excellency ; and for that 
 very reason he is precious to you that believe. Faith 
 teaches you to look upon persons and things in the 
 same light in which God views them; it makes your 
 sentiments conformed to his. Christ is the Father's 
 beloved Son, in whom he is well pleased ; and he is 
 your beloved Saviour, in whom you are well pleased. 
 
 Is it any wonder that Jesus should be precious to 
 believers, when he is so precious in himself, and in his 
 offices, so precious to the angelic armies, and so pre- 
 cious to his Father ? 
 
 i. He is precious in himself. He is Immauuel, 
 God-man ; and consequently, whatever excellencies 
 belong either to the divine or human nature, center 
 in him. If wisdom, power, and goodness, divii. 
 
 * The word used in ver. 4, an 1 6, is n compound, ivnderr-d pi 
 in the text. And this is an intimation that the text is an inlercnee from 
 the above verses. 
 
 Vol I. Y
 
 SS2 Christ precious to Serm. 14-. 
 
 human, created or uncreated, can render him worthy of 
 the highest affection, he has a just claim to it. What- 
 ever excellencies, natural or moral, appear in any part 
 of the vast universe, they are but faint shadows of his 
 beauty and glory. All things xcere created by him and 
 for him; and through him all things consist, Col. i. 
 16, 17. : and whatever excellencies are in the effect 
 must be eminently in the cause. You do not wonder 
 nor censure, when you see men delighted with the 
 glories of the sun, and the various luminaries of the 
 sky : you do not wonder nor blame when they take 
 pleasure in the beautiful prospects of nature, or in that 
 rich variety of good things, which earth, and sea, and 
 every element furnishes for the support of man, or the 
 gratification of his senses : you do not wonder and 
 blame, when they are struck with moral beauty ; when 
 you see them admire and approve wisdom, benevolence, 
 justice, veracity, meekness, and mercy : you never 
 think it strange, much less censurable, that men should 
 love these things, and count them precious ; and can 
 you be astonished, can you ridicule or find fault that 
 Jesus is precious to poor believers? If the copy be 
 so fair and lovely, who would not love the original, 
 that has eyes to behold it ? Believers see so much of 
 the worth of Christ as is sufficient to captivate their 
 hearts, and convince them of their guilt in loving him 
 no more; and the clearer their views are of him, the 
 more are they mortified at the criminal defects of their 
 love; for O ! they see he deserves infinitely more ! 
 
 2. The Lord Jesus is precious in his offices. His 
 mediatorial office is generally subdivided into three 
 parts, namely that of a prophet, of a priest, and of 
 a king : and how precious is Christ in each of these ! 
 
 As a prophet, how sweet are his instructions to a 
 bewildered soul ! How precious the words of his lips, 
 which are the words of eternal life ! How delightful 
 to sit and hear him teach the way of duty and happi- 
 ness, revealing the Father, and the wonders of the in- 
 visible state! How transporting to bear him declare 
 upon what terms an offended God may be reconciled ! 
 a discovery beyond the searches of all the sages and 
 philosophers of the heathen world ! How reviving is
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. 32 3 
 
 it to listen to his gracious promises and invitations ! 
 promises and invitations to the poor, the weary, and 
 heavy-laden, the broken hearted, and even to the chief 
 of sinners ! The word of Christ has been the treasure, 
 the support, and joy of believers in all ages. / have 
 esteemed the words of his mouth, says Job, more than 
 my necessary food Job. xxiii. 12. It is this precious 
 word the Psalmist so often and so highly celebrates. 
 He celebrates it as more to be desired than gold ; yea, 
 than much fine gold : sweeter also than honey, and the 
 honey -comb. Psalm, xix. 10. O how I love thy law ! 
 says he ; it is my meditation all the day. Psalm, cxix. 
 97. How sweet are thy words unto my taste ! yea, 
 sweeter than honey to my mouth, ver. 103. The law of 
 thy mouth is better than thousands of gold and silver. 
 ver. 72. Behold) I have longed after thy precepts. 
 ver. 40. Thy statutes have been my song in the house 
 of my pilgrimage, ver. 5\. In my affliction, thy word 
 hath quickened me. ver. 50. Unless thy lazv had been 
 my delight, I should then have perished in my affliction. 
 ver. 92. This is the language of David, in honour of 
 this divine Prophet, near three thousand years ago, 
 when Christ had not revealed the full gospel to the 
 world, but only some rays of it shone through the veil 
 of the Mosaic dispensation. And must not believers 
 now, who live under the more complete and clear in- 
 structions of this great Prophet, entertain the same 
 sentiments of him? Yes, to such of you as believe, 
 even in this age, he is most precious. 
 
 But this external objective instruction is not all that 
 Christ as a prophet communicates; and indeed, did he 
 do no more than this, it would answer no valuable end. 
 The mind of man, in his present fallen state, like a 
 disordered eye, is incapable of perceiving divine things 
 in a proper light, however clearly they are revealed; 
 and therefore, till the perceiving faculty be rectified, 
 all external revelation is in vain, and is only like open- 
 ing a fair prospect to a blind eye. Hence this great 
 prophet carries his instructions farther, not only by 
 proposing divine things in a clear objective light by 
 his word, but inwardly enlightening the mind, and 
 enabling it to perceive what is revealed bv his Spirit. 
 
 Y 2
 
 324- Christ precious to Serm.- 14. 
 
 And how precious are these internal suhjective instruc- 
 tions! How sweet to feci a disordered dark mind open- 
 ing to admit the shillings of heavenly day; to perceive 
 the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, the 
 beauties of holiness, and the majestic wonders of the 
 eternal world ! Speak, ye that know by happy experi- 
 ence, and tell how precious Jesus appears to you, when 
 by his own blessed Spirit he scatters the cloud that 
 benighted your understandings, and lets in the rays of 
 bis glory upon your admiring souls; when he opens 
 your eyes to see the wonders contained in his law, and 
 the glorious mysteries of his gospel. What a divine 
 glory does then spread upon every page of the sacred 
 volume ! Then it indeed appears the Book of God, 
 God-like, and worthy its Author. O precious Jesus! 
 let us all this day feel thine enlightening influences, 
 that experience may teach us how sweet they are \ 
 Come ! great Prophet ! come, and make thine own 
 spirit our teacher, and then shall we be divinely wise ! 
 Again, the Lord Jesus is precious to believers as a 
 great High Priest. As an high priest, he made a com- 
 plete atonement for sin by his propitiatory sacrifice on 
 the cross; and he still makes intercession for the trans- 
 gressors on his throne in heaven. It was his sacrifice 
 that satisfied the demands of the law, and justice of 
 God, and rendered him reconcileable to the guilty, 
 upon terms consistent with his honour and the rights 
 of his government. It was by virtue of this sacrifice 
 that he procured pardon of sin, the favour of God, 
 freedom from hell, and eternal life for condemned ob- 
 noxious rebels. And such of you who have ever felt 
 the pangs of a guilty conscience, and obtained relief 
 from Jesus Christ, you can tell how precious his aton- 
 ing sacrifice. How did it ease your self-tormenting 
 consciences, and heal your broken hearts ! How did it 
 change the frowns of an angry God into smiles of love, 
 and your trembling apprehensions of vengeance into 
 delightful hopes of mercy ! How precious did Jesus 
 appear, with a pardon in his hand, with atoning blood 
 gushing from his opened veins, and making his cross, 
 as it were, the key to open the gates of heaven for your 
 admission ! Blessed Saviour ! cur great High Priest.
 
 Stebm. 14'. all true Believers) 325 
 
 thus appear to us in all thy pontifical robes dyed in 
 thine own blood, and cause us all to feel the efficacy of 
 thy propitiation! 
 
 Let us next turn our eyes upwards, and view this 
 great High Priest as our intercessor in the presence of 
 God. There he appears as a lamb that was slain, bear- 
 ing the memorials of his sacrifice, and putting the 
 Father in remembrance of the blessings purchased for 
 his people. There he urges it as his pleasure, as his 
 authoritative will, that these blessings should in due 
 time be conferred upon those for whom they were pur- 
 chased. In this authoritative manner he could inter- 
 cede even in the days of his humiliation upon earth, 
 because of the Father's covenant-engagements with 
 him, the accomplishment of which he has a right to 
 demand, as well as humbly to petition : Father, 1 will, 
 I will that those whom thou hast given me, may be with 
 me, Sec. John xvii. 24. Now how precious must 
 Christ appear in the character of Intercessor ! That 
 the friendless sinner should have an all-prevailing ad- 
 vocate in the court of heaven to undertake his cause ! 
 that the great High Priest should offer up the grateful 
 incense of his own merit, with the prayers of the saints ! 
 that he should add the sanction of his authoritative 
 will to the humble petitions of faith 1 that he should 
 urge the claims of his people, as his own claims, found- 
 ed upon an unchangeable covenant with his Father, of 
 which he has fully performed the conditions required ! 
 that he should not intercede occasionally, but always 
 appear in the holy of holies as the constant everliving 
 Intercessor, and maintain the same interest, the same 
 importunity at ail times, even when the petitions of his 
 people languish upon their lips ! What delightful re- 
 flections are these ! and how warmly may they recom- 
 mend the Lord Jesus to the hearts of believers ! How 
 just is the apostle's inference, Having an High Priest 
 over the house of God, let us draw near with a true 
 heart, in full assurance of faith ; and let us hold fast 
 l he profession of our faith n it hout wavering. Ileb. x. 21, 
 'J.'/, lie is able to save to the uttermost all that come 
 unto God bi/ him ; for this reason, because he ever 
 Ivveth to make intercession for them. Ileb. vii. 15. 
 
 V ;;
 
 326* Ch rist precious to S r m. 1 4. 
 
 May each of us intrust his cause to his all-prevailing 
 Advocate, and we shall certainly gain it ! The un- 
 changeable promise has passed his lips, that whatsoever 
 ace ask the Father in faith and in his name, he will give 
 it us. John xvi. 23, 
 
 Let me add, the kingly office of Christ is precious 
 to believers. As king he gives laws ; laws perfectly 
 wise and good, and enforced with the most important 
 sanctions, everlasting rewards and punishments. And 
 how delightful, how advantageous, to live under such 
 a government ! to have our duty discovered with so 
 much clearness and certainty, which frees us from so 
 many painful anxieties, and to have such powerful 
 motives to obedience, which have a tendency to infuse 
 vigour and spirit into our endeavours! As King, he 
 appoints ordinances of worship. And how sweet to 
 converse with him in these ordinances, and to be freed 
 from perplexity about that manner of worship which 
 God will accept, without being exposed to that ques- 
 tion, so confounding to will- worshippers, Who hath 
 required this at your hands ? As King, he is head 
 over all things to his church, and manages the whole 
 creation, as is most subservient to her good. The va- 
 rious ranks of creatures in heaven, earth, and hell, are 
 subject to his direction and controul ; and they must 
 all co-operate for the good of his people. He reclaims, 
 confounds, subdues, or destroys their enemies, accord- 
 ing to his pleasure. And how precious must he be in 
 this august character to the feeble helpless believer! 
 To have an almighty friend sitting at the helm of the 
 universe, with the supreme management of all things 
 in his hands ; to be assured that even the most inju- 
 rious enemy can do the believer no real or lasting in- 
 jury, but shall at length concur to work his greatest 
 good; and that, come what will, it shall go well with 
 him, and he shall at last be made triumphant over all 
 difficulty and opposition. O ! what transporting con- 
 siderations are here ! But this is not the whole exercise 
 of the royal power of Christ. He not only makes 
 laws and ordinances, and restrains the enemies of his 
 people, but he exercises his power inwardly upon their 
 hearts. He is the King of souls; lie reigns in the
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. 327 
 
 hearts of his subjects ; and how infinitely dear and 
 precious is he in this view! To feel him subdue 
 the rebellion within, sweetly bending the stubborn 
 heart into willing obedience, and reducing every 
 thought into a cheerful captivity to himself, writing 
 his law upon the heart, making the dispositions of his 
 subjects a transcript of his will, corresponding to it, 
 like wax to the seal, how delightful is all this ! O the 
 pleasures of humble submission ! How pleasant to lie 
 as subjects at the feet of this mediatorial King without 
 arrogating the sovereignty ourselves, for which we are 
 utterly insufficient ! Blessed Jesus ! thus reign in our 
 hearts ! thus subdue the nations to the obedience of 
 faith ! Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most Mighty ! 
 and ride prosperously, attended with majesty, truth, 
 meekness, and righteousness. Psalm, xlv. 3, 4. Send 
 the rod of thy strength out of Sion : rule thou in the 
 midst of thine enemies. Psalm, ex. 2. : rule us, and 
 subdue the rebel in our hearts. 
 
 Thus you see the Lord Jesus is precious to believers 
 in all the views of his mediatorial office. But he is 
 not precious to them alone ; he is beloved as far as 
 known, and the more known the more beloved: which 
 leads me to add, 
 
 3. He is precious to all the angels of heaven. 
 
 St. Peter tells us that the things now reported to us 
 by the gospel are things which the angels desire to look 
 into. 1 Pet. i. 12. Jesus is the wonder of angels now 
 in heaven; and he was so even when he appeared in 
 the form of a servant upon earth. St. Paul mentions it 
 as one part of the great mystery of godliness, that 
 God manifested in the flesh was seen of angels. 1 Tim. 
 iii. 16\ Angels saw him and admired and loved him 
 in the various stages of his life, from his birth to his 
 return to his native heaven. Hear the manner in 
 which angels celebrated his entrance into our world. 
 One of them spread his wings, and flew with joyful 
 haste to a company of poor shepherds that kept their 
 midnight watches in the field, and abruptly tells the 
 news, of which his heart was full : Behold, I bring 
 you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all 
 people; for to you is born this day, in the city of 
 
 V4
 
 328 Christ precious to Ser,m. 14. 
 
 David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord : and sud- 
 denly there was with the angel a multitude of the 
 heavenly host. Crowds of angels left their stations in 
 the celestial court in that memorable hour, and hover- 
 ed over the place where their incarnate God lay in a 
 manger: Jesus, their darling, was gone down to earth, 
 and they must follow him; for who would not be 
 where Jesus is? Men, ungrateful men, were silent upon 
 that occasion, but angels tuned their song of praise. 
 The astonished shepherds heard them sing, Glory to 
 God in the highest ; on earth peace ; good-will to men. 
 Luke ii. 10 14. When he bringeth his first-born into 
 the world, the Father saith, Let all the angels of God 
 worship him. Heb. i. 6, This seems to intimate that 
 all the angels crowded round the manger, where the 
 infant God lay, and paid him their humble worship. 
 We are told, that when the devii had finished his long 
 process of temptations, after forty days, and had left 
 him, the angels came and ministered unto him. Matt, 
 iv. 11. When this disagreeable companion had left 
 him, his old attendants were fond of renewing their 
 service to him. In every hour of difficulty they were 
 ready to fly to his aid. He was seen of angels, in his 
 hard conflict, in the garden of Gethsemane; and one 
 of them appeared unto him from heaven, strengthening 
 him. Luke xxii. 43. With what wonder, sympathy, 
 and readiness did this angelic assistant raise his pros- 
 trate Lord from the cold ground, wipe off his bloody 
 sweat, and support his sinking spirit with divine encou- 
 ragements ! J3ut, O ! ye blessed angels, ye usual spec- 
 tators and adorers of the divine glories of" our Re- 
 deemer, with what astonishment and horror were you 
 struck, when you saw him expire on the cross ! 
 
 " Around the bloody tree 
 " Ye press'd with strong desire, 
 " That wondrous sight to see, 
 " The Lord of life expire ! 
 
 " And, could your eyes 
 
 " Have known a tear, 
 
 " Had dropt it there, 
 
 " In sad surprise.*" 
 
 * Doddridge,
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers.. 3 l 29 
 
 Ye also hovered round his tomb, while he lay in the 
 prison of the grave. The weeping women and his 
 other friends found you stationed there in their early 
 impatient visits to the sepulchre. O what wonders 
 then appeared to your astonished minds ! Could you, 
 that pry so deep into the secrets of heaven, you that 
 know so well what divine love can do, could you have 
 thought that even divine love could have gone so far? 
 could have laid the Lord of Glory a pale, mangled, 
 senseless corpse in the mansions of the dead? Was 
 not this a strange surprise even to you ? And, when 
 the appointed day began to dawn, with what eager 
 and joyful haste did ye roll away the stone, and set 
 open the prison doors, that the rising Conqueror might 
 march forth ! 
 
 " And when array'd in light, 
 " The shining Conqueror rode, 
 " Ye hail'd his rapt'rous flight, 
 " Up to the throne of God; 
 
 " And wav'd around 
 
 " Your golden wings, 
 
 " And struck your strings 
 
 " Of sweetest sound*." 
 
 When he ascended on high, lie was attended with 
 the chariots of God, which are twenty thousand, even 
 thousands of angels. Psalm ixviii. 17, IS. And now, 
 when lie is returned to dwell among them, Jesus is still 
 the darling of angels. Ills name sounds from all their 
 harps, and his love is the subject of their everlasting 
 song. St. John once heard them, and I hope we shall 
 ere long hear them, saying with a loud voice, lldrthy 
 is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, 
 and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and 
 Lies.' rug, Kev. v. 11, l'J. This is the song of angels, 
 as weii as of the redeemed from among men : 
 
 " Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs; 
 " Jesus, my love, they brig : 
 " Jesus, the name of both our joys, 
 " Sounds sweet from cv'ry string -j-.'* 
 
 * An excellent hymn of Dr. Doddridge's on 1 Tim. iii. 10. Seen of 
 AnpHs. 
 
 j Watts's Hur. Lyric.
 
 330 Christ precious to Serm. 14. 
 
 O my brethren, could we see what is doing in heaven 
 at this instant, how would it surprise, astonish, and 
 confound us ! Do you think the name of Jesus is of 
 as little importance there as in our world ? Do you 
 think there is one lukewarm or disaffected heart there 
 among ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands 
 of thousands ? O no! there his love is the ruling 
 passion of every heart, and the favourite theme of every 
 song. And is he so precious to angels ? to angels, who 
 are less interested in him, and less indebted to him? 
 And must he not be precious to poor believers bought 
 with his blood, and entitled to life by his death? Yes, 
 you that believe have an angelic spirit in this respect; 
 you love Jesus, though unseen, as well as they who see 
 him as he is, though, alas! in a far less degree. But 
 to bring his worth to the highest standard of all, I add, 
 
 4. He is infinitely precious to his Father, who tho- 
 roughly knows him, and is an infallible Judge of real 
 worth. He proclaimed more than once from the ex- 
 cellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am 
 well pleased; hear ye him. Behold, says he, my ser- 
 vant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul 
 delighteth. Isa. xlii. 1. He is called by the names of 
 the tenderest endearment ; his Son, his own Son, his 
 dear Son, the Son of his love. He is a stone, dis- 
 allowed indeed of men; if their approbation were the 
 true standard of merit, he must be looked upon as a 
 very worthless, insignificant being, unworthy of their 
 thoughts and affections. But let men form what esti- 
 mate of him they please, he is chosen of God, and 
 precious. And shall not the love of the omniscient 
 God have weight with believers to love him too? 
 Yes, the apostle expressly draws the consequence ; he 
 is precious to God, therefore to you that believe, he is 
 precious. It is the characteristic of even the meanest 
 believer, that he is God-like. He is a partaker of the 
 divine nature, and therefore views things, in some 
 measure, as God does; and is affected towards them 
 as God is, though there be an infinite difference as to 
 the degree. He prevailingly loves what God loves, 
 and that because God loves it,
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. 331 
 
 And now, my hearers, what think you of Christ? 
 Will you not think of him as believers do? If so, he 
 will be precious to your hearts above all things for the 
 future. Or if you disregard this standard of excel- 
 lence, as being but the estimate of fallible creatures, 
 will you not think of him as angels do ; angels, those 
 bright intelligences, to whom he reveals his unveiled 
 glories, who are more capable of perceiving and judg- 
 ing of him, and who therefore must know him better 
 than you ; angels, who have had a long acquaintance 
 with him at home, if I may so speak, for near six 
 thousand years, as God, i. e. ever since their creation, 
 and for near two thousand years as God-man? Since 
 angels then, who knew him so thoroughly, love him so 
 highly, certainly you may safely venture to love him; 
 you might safely venture to love him implicitly, upon 
 their word, lie dud for you, which is more than ever 
 he did for them, and will you not love him after all 
 this love? It is not the mode to think much of him 
 in our world, but it is the mode in heaven. Yes, 
 blessed be God, if he be despised and rejected of men, 
 he is not despised and rejected of angels. Angels, 
 that know him best, love him above all, and, as far as 
 their capacity will allow, do justice to his merit: and 
 this is a very comfortable thought to a heart broken 
 with a sense of the neglect and contempt he meets 
 with among men. Blessed Jesus ! may not one con- 
 gregation be got together, even upon our guilty earth, 
 that shall in this respect be like the angels, all lovers 
 of thee? O ! why should this be impossible, while 
 they are all so much in need of thee, all so much 
 obliged to thee, and thou art so lovely in thyself? 
 Why, my brethren, should not this congregation be 
 made up of such, and such only as are lovers of Jesus? 
 Why should he not be precious to every one of you, 
 rich and poor, old and young, white and black ? What 
 reason can any one of you give why you in particular 
 should neglect him? I am sure you can give none. 
 And will you, without any reason, dissent from all the 
 angels in heaven, in a point of which they must be the 
 most competent judges ? Will you differ from them, 
 and agree in your sentiments of Christ with the ghosts
 
 332 Christ precious to Serm. 14. 
 
 of hell, liis implacable, but conquered and miserable 
 enemies ? ; 
 
 If all this has no weight with you, let me ask you 
 farther, Will you not agree to that estimate of Jesus 
 which his Father has of him? Will you run counter 
 to the supreme reason? Will you set up yourselves as 
 wiser than omniscience? How must Jehovah resent it 
 to see a worm at his footstool daring to despise him, 
 whom he loves so highly ? O let him be precious 
 to you, because he is so to God, who knows him 
 best. 
 
 But I am shocked at my own attempt. O precious 
 Jesus ! are matters come to that pass in our world, that 
 creatures bought with thy blood, creatures that owe all 
 their hopes to thee, should stand in need of per- 
 suasions to love thee? What horrors attend the thought! 
 However, blessed be God, there are some, even among 
 men, to whom he is precious. This world is not en- 
 tirely peopled with the despisers of Christ. To as 
 many of you as believe, he is precious, though to 
 none else. 
 
 Would you know the reason of this ? I will tell 
 you; none but believers have eves to see his glory, 
 none but they are sensible of their need of him, and 
 none but they have learned from experience how pre- 
 cious he is. 
 
 1. None but believers have eyes to see the glory of 
 Christ. As the knowledge of Christ is entirely from 
 revelation, an avowed unbeliever, who rejects that 
 revelation, can have no right knowledge of him, and 
 therefore must be entirely indifferent towards him, as 
 one unknown, or must despise and abhor him as an 
 enthusiast or impostor. But one, who is not an un- 
 believer in profession or speculation, may yet be des- 
 titute of that faith which constitutes a true believer, 
 and which renders Jesus precious to the soul. Even 
 devils are very orthodox in speculation: Devils believe, 
 and tremble; and they could cry out, What have we to 
 do with thee, Jesus of Nazareth ? lie kjiow thee, who 
 thou art; even the Holy One of God. Mark i. i24-. 
 And there arc crowds among us who believe, after a 
 fashion, that Christ is the true Messiah, who yet shew
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. ' 333 
 
 by their practices that they neglect him in their hearts, 
 and are not believers in the full import of the character. 
 True faith includes not only a speculative knowledge 
 and belief, but a clear, affecting, realizing view, and 
 an hearty approbation of the things known and be- 
 lieved concerning Jesns Christ ; and such a view, such 
 an approbation, cannot be produced by any human 
 means, but only by the enlightening influence of the 
 holy Spirit shining into the heart. Without such a 
 faith as this, the mind is all dark and blind as to the 
 glory of Jesus Christ ; it can see no beauty in him, 
 that he should be desired. Honourable and sublime 
 speculations concerning him may hover in the under- 
 standing, and the tongue may pronounce many pom- 
 pous panegyrics in his praise, but the understanding has 
 no realizing, affecting views of his excellency , nor 
 does the heart delight in him and love him as infinitely 
 precious and lovely. The God of this world, the 
 prince of darkness, has blinded the minds of them that 
 believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of 
 Christ should shine into them. But as to the enlight- 
 ened believer, (rod, who first commanded light to 
 shine out of darkness, lias shined into his heart, to give 
 him the lisHit of the knowledge of the glory of God 
 in the face of Jesus Christ. This divine illumination 
 pierces the cloud that obscured his understanding, and 
 enables him to view the Lord Jesus in a strong and 
 striking light ; a light entirely different from that of 
 the crowd around him ; a light, in which it is impos- 
 sible to view this glorious object without loving him. 
 A believer and an unbeliever may be equally ortho- 
 dox in speculation, and have the same notions in the- 
 ory concerning Jesus Christ, and yet it is certainly 
 true, that their views of him are vastly different. Be- 
 lievers ! do you think that, if the Christ-despising 
 multitude around you had the same views of his worth 
 and preciousness which you have, they could neglect 
 him as they do ? It is impossible. You could once 
 neglect him, as others do now ; you were no more 
 charmed with his beauty than they. But () ! when 
 you were brought out of darkness into God's marvel- 
 lous light, when the glories of the neglected .Saviour
 
 334 Christ precious to Shrm. 14. 
 
 broke in upon your astonished minds, then was it pos- 
 sible for vou to withhold vour love from him ? Were 
 not your hearts captivated with delightful violence ? 
 You could no more resist. Did not your hearts then 
 as naturally and freely love him, whom they had once 
 disgusted, as ever they loved a dear child or a friend, 
 or the sweetest created enjoyment? The improving 
 your reason into faith is setting the disordered eye of 
 the mind right, that it may be able to see this ohject; 
 and when once you viewed it with this eye of reason 
 restored and improved, how did the precious stone 
 sparkle before you, and charm you with its brilliancy 
 and excellence? Christ is one of those things unseen 
 and hoped for, of which St. Paul says, Faith is the 
 substance a?id evidence. Heb. xi. I. Faith gives Christ 
 a present subsistence in the mind, not as a majestic 
 phantom, but as the most glorious and important 
 reality ; and this faith is a clear affecting demonstra- 
 tion, or conviction, of his existence, and of his being 
 in reality what his word represents him. It is by such 
 a faith, that is, under its habitual influence, that the 
 believer lives; and hence, while he lives, Jesus is still 
 precious to him. 
 
 <2. None but believers are properly sensible of their 
 need of Christ. They are deeply sensible of their ig- 
 norance and the disorder of their understanding, and 
 therefore they are sensible of their want of both the 
 external and internal instructions of this divine Pro- 
 phet. But as to others, they are puffed up with intel- 
 lectual pride, and apprehend themselves in very little 
 need of religious instructions; and therefore they think 
 but very slightly of him. Believers feel themselves 
 guilty, destitute of all righteousness, and incapable of 
 making atonement for their sins, or recommending 
 themselves to God, and therefore the satisfaction and 
 righteousness of Jesus Christ are most precious to 
 them, and they rejoice in him as their all-prevailing 
 Intercessor. But as to the unbelieving crowd, they 
 have no such mortifying thoughts of themselves: they 
 have so many excuses to make for their sins, that they 
 bring down their guilt to a very trifling thing, hardly 
 worthy of divine resentment; and they magnify their
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. 335 
 
 good works to such an height, that they imagine they 
 will nearly balance their bad, and procure them some 
 favour at least from God, and therefore they must 
 look upon this High Priest as needless. They also 
 love to be free from the restraints of religion, and to 
 have the command of themselves. They would usurp 
 the power of self-government, and make their own 
 pleasure their rule; and therefore the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 as a King, is so far from being precious, that he is 
 very unacceptable to such obstinate, head-strong rebels. 
 They choose to have no lawgiver, but their own wills ; 
 and therefore they trample upon his laws, and, as it 
 were, form insurrections against his government. But 
 the poor believer, sensible of his incapacity for self- 
 government, loves to be under direction, and delights 
 to feel the dependent, submissive, pliant spirit of a 
 subject. He counts it a mercy not to have the ma- 
 nagement of himself, and feels his need of this media- 
 torial King to rule him. He hates the rebel within, 
 hates every insurrection of sin, and longs to have it 
 entirely subdued, and every thought, every motion of 
 his soul, brought into captivity to the obedience of 
 Christ ; and therefore he feels the need of his royal 
 power to make an entire conquest of his hostile spirit. 
 His commands are not uneasy impositions, but most 
 acceptable and friendly directions to him ; and the 
 prohibitions of his law are not painful restraints, but a 
 kind of privileges in his esteem. The language of his 
 heart is, " Precious Jesus ! be thou my King. I love 
 to live in humble subjection to thee. I would volun- 
 tarily submit myself to thy controul and direction. 
 Thy will, not mine, be done! O subdue every rebel- 
 lious principle within, and make me all resignation and 
 cheerful obedience to thee !" To such a soul it is no 
 wonder Jesus should be exceeding precious: but O 
 how different is this spirit from that which generally 
 prevails in the world ? Let me add but one reason 
 more why Jesus is precious to believers, and them 
 only; namely, 
 
 :). None but believers have known by experience 
 how precious he is. They, and only they, can reflect 
 upon the glorious views of him, which themselves have
 
 336 Christ precious to Serm. 14. 
 
 had, to captivate their hearts forever to him. They, 
 and only they, have known what it is to feel a bleeding 
 heart healed by his gentle hand ; and a clamorous an- 
 guishing conscience pacified by his atoning blood. 
 They, and only they, know by experience how sweet 
 it is to feel his love shed abroad in their hearts, to feel 
 an heart, ravished with his glory, pant, and long, and 
 breathe after him, and exerting the various acts of 
 faith, desire, joy, and hope towards him. They, and 
 only they, know by experience how pleasant it is to 
 converse with him in his ordinances, and to spend an 
 hour of devotion in some retirement, as it were, in his 
 company. They, and only they, have experienced the 
 exertions of his royal power, conquering their mightiest 
 sins, and sweetly subduing them to himself. These 
 are, in some measure, matters of experience with every 
 true believer, and therefore it is no wonder Jesus should 
 be precious to them. But as to the unbelieving mul- 
 titude, poor creatures ! they are entire strangers to these 
 things. They may have some superficial notions of 
 them floating in their heads, but they have never felt 
 them in their hearts, and therefore the infinitely precious 
 Lord Jesus is a worthless, insignificant Being to them : 
 and thus, alas ! it will be with the unhappy creatures, 
 until experience becomes their teacher; until they 
 taste for themselves that the Lord is gracious. 1 Peter 
 ii. 3. 
 
 There is an interesting question, which, I doubt not, 
 has risen in the minds of such of you as have heard 
 what has been said with a particular application to 
 yourselves, and keeps you in a painful suspense: with 
 an answer to which 1 shail conclude: " Am I indeed a 
 true believer r may some of you say ; and is Christ 
 precious to me? My satisfaction in this sweet subject 
 is vastly abate:!, till this question is solved. Sometimes, 
 I humbly think, the evidence is in my favour, and I 
 begin to hope that lie is indeed precious to my soul ; 
 but alas ! my love for him soon languishes, and then 
 my doubts and fears return, and I know not what to 
 do, nor what to think of myself." Do not some of 
 you, my brethren, long to have this perplexing case 
 cleared up: O what would you not give, if you
 
 Serm. 14. all true Believers. 337 
 
 might return home this evening fully satisfied in this 
 point? Well, I would willingly help you, for experi- 
 ence has taught me to sympathize with you under this 
 difficulty. O my heart! how often hast thou been 
 suspicious of thyself in this respect! The readiest way 
 I can now take to clear up the matter is to answer 
 another question, naturally resulting from my subject; 
 and that is, " How does that high esteem which a 
 believer has for Jesus Christ discover itself? Or how 
 does he shew that Christ is indeed precious to him?" 
 I answer, he shews it in various ways, particularly by 
 his affectionate thoughts of him, which often rise in 
 his mind, and always find welcome there. He disco- 
 vers that Jesus is precious to him by hating and resist- 
 ing whatever is displeasing to him, and by parting 
 with every thing that comes in competition with him. 
 lie will let all go rather than part with Christ. Honour, 
 reputation, ease, riches, pleasure, and even life itself, 
 are nothing to him in comparison of Christ, and he 
 will run the risque of all ; nay, will actually lose all, 
 if he may but win Christ. He discovers this high 
 esteem for him by the pleasure he takes in feeling his 
 heart suitably affected towards him, and by his uneasi- 
 ness when it is otherwise. O ! when he can love Jesus, 
 when his thoughts affectionately clasp around him, and 
 when he has an heart to serve him, then he is happy, 
 his soul is well, and he is lively and cheerful. But 
 alas ! when it is otherwise with him, when his love 
 languishes, when his heart hardens, when it becomes 
 out of order for his service, then he grows uneasy and 
 discontented, and cannot be at rest. When Jesus fa- 
 vours him with his gracious presence, and revives him 
 with his influence, how does he rejoice ! But when his 
 beloved withdraws himself and is gone, how does he 
 lament his absence, and long For his return ! He weeps 
 and cries like a bereaved, deserted orphan, and moans 
 like a loving turtle in the absence of its mate. Be- 
 cause Christ is so precious to him, he cannot bear the 
 thought of parting with him, and the least jealousy 
 of his love pierces his very heart. Because he loves 
 him he longs tor the full enjoyment of him, and is 
 ravished with the prospect of it. Because Christ is 
 Voi. 1 X
 
 338 Christ precious to all true Believers. Serm. 12. 
 
 precious to him, his interests are so too, and he longs 
 to see his kingdom flourish, and all men fired with 
 his love. Because he loves him, he loves his ordinan- 
 ces; loves to hear, because it is the word of Jesus: 
 loves to pray, because it is maintaining intercourse 
 with Jesus ; loves to sit at his table, because it is a 
 memorial of Jesus ; and loves his people, because 
 they love Jesus. Whatever has a relation to his pre- 
 cious Saviour is for that reason precious to him ; and 
 when he feels any thing of a contrary disposition, 
 alas ! it grieves him, and makes him abhor him- 
 self. These things are sufficient to shew that the 
 Lord Jesus has his heart, and is indeed precious to 
 him; and is not this the very picture of some trem- 
 bling doubting souls among you? If it be, take 
 courage. After so many vain searches, you have at 
 length discovered the welcome secret, that Christ is 
 indeed precious to you : and if so, you may be sure 
 that you are precious to him. You shall be mine, saith 
 the Lord, in the day that I make up my jezvels. Mai. 
 iii. 17. If you are now satisfied, after thorough trial 
 of the case, retain your hope, and let not every dis- 
 couraging appearance renew your jealousies again : 
 labour to be steady and firm Christians, and do not 
 stagger through unbelief. 
 
 But alas ! I fear that many of you know nothing 
 experimentally of the exercises of a believing heart, 
 which I have been describing, and consequently that 
 Christ is not precious to you. If this is the case, you 
 may be sure indeed you are hateful to him. He is 
 angry with the wicked every clay. " Those that 
 honour him he will honour; but they that despise 
 him shall be lightly esteemed." 1 Sam. ii. 30. And 
 what will you do if Christ should become your enemy 
 and fight against you? If this precious stone should 
 become a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence to 
 you, over which you will fall into ruin, O how dread- 
 ful must the fall be! What must you expect but to 
 lie down in unutterable and everlasting sorrow !
 
 SERMON "XV. 
 
 The Danger of Lukewarmness in Religion* 
 
 Revelation iii. 15, lfi. 
 
 / know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot : I would 
 thou wert cold or hot. So then, because thou art lukezoarm,, 
 and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth. 
 
 THE soul of man is endowed with such active 
 powers, that it cannot be idle ; and, if we look 
 Tound the world, we see it all alive and busy in some 
 pursuit or other. What vigorous action, what labour 
 and toil, what hurry, noise, and commotion about the 
 necessaries of life, about riches and honours ! Here 
 men are in earnest: here there is no dissimulation, no 
 indiff'erency about the event. They sincerely desire, 
 and eagerly strive for these transient delights, or vain 
 embellishments of a mortal life. 
 
 And may we infer farther that creatures, thus formed 
 for action, and thus laborious and unwearied in these 
 inferior pursuits, are proportionably vigorous and in 
 earnest in matters of infinitely greater importance? 
 May we conclude, that they proportion their labour 
 and activity to the nature of things, and that they are 
 most in earnest where they are most concerned? A 
 stranger to our world, that could conclude nothing 
 concerning the conduct of mankind but from the 
 generous presumptions of his own charitable heart, 
 might persuade himself that this is the case. But one 
 that has been but a little while conversant with them, 
 and taken the least notice of their temper and practice 
 with regard to that most interesting thing Religion, 
 must know it is quite otherwise. For look round you, 
 and what do you see? Here and there indeed you may 
 see a t'tiw unfashionable creatures, who act as if they 
 looked upon religion to be the most interesting con- 
 
 Z 2
 
 340 The Banger of Serm. 15. 
 
 cern ; and who seem determined, let others do as they 
 will, to make sure of salvation, whatever becomes of 
 them in other respects : but as to the generality, they 
 are very indifferent about it. They will not" indeed 
 renounce all religion entirely; they wilt make some 
 little profession of the religion that happens to be the 
 most modish and reputable in their country, and they will 
 conform to some of its institutions; but it is a matter 
 of indifferency with them, and they are but little con- 
 cerned about it; or, in the language of my text, they 
 are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot. 
 
 This threatening, / will spue thee out of my mouth, 
 has been long ago executed with a dreadful severity 
 upon the Laodicean church ; and it is now succeeded 
 by a mongrel race of Pagans and Mahometans; and 
 the name of Christ is not heard among them. But, 
 though this church has been demolished for so many 
 hundreds of years, that lukewarmness of spirit in religion 
 which brought/ this judgment upon them, still lives, 
 and possesses the christians of our age: it may there- 
 fore be expedient for us to consider Christ's friendly 
 warning to them, that we may escape their doom. 
 
 The epistles to the seven churches in Asia are intro- 
 duced with this solemn and striking preface, " I know 
 thy works :" that is to say, your character is drawn bv 
 one that thoroughly knows you; one who inspects all 
 your conduct, and takes notice of you when you take 
 no notice of yourselves; one that cannot be imposed 
 upon by an empty profession and artilice, but searches 
 the heart and the reins. O that this truth were deeply 
 impressed upon our hearts; for surely we could not 
 trirle and offend while sensible that we are under the 
 eye of our Judge! 
 
 I know thy works, says he to the Laodicean church, 
 that thou art neither cold nor hot. This church was 
 in a very bad condition, and Christ reproves her with 
 the greatest severity* : and yet we do not iind her 
 charged with the practice or toleration of any gross 
 
 * She was as loathsome to him as lukewarm water to the stomach, cs.il 
 he characterises her as " wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, 
 and naked." What condition can be more deplorable and dangerous ?
 
 S"erm. 15. Lukewarmness in Religion. 341 
 
 immoralities, as some of the other churches were. She 
 is not censured for indulging fornication among her 
 members, or communicating with idolaters in eating 
 things sacrificed to idols, like some of the rest. She 
 was free from the infection or' Nicolaitans, which had 
 spread among them. What then is her charge? It is a 
 subtle, latent wickedness, that has no shocking appear- 
 ance, that makes no gross blemish in the outward cha- 
 racter of a professor in the view of others, and may 
 escape his own notice; it is Thou art lukewarm, and 
 neither cold nor hot : as if our Lord had said, Thou 
 dost not entirely renounce and openly disregard the 
 christian religion, and thou dost not make it a serious 
 business, and mind it as thy grand concern. Thou 
 hast a form of godliness, but deniest the power. All 
 thy religion is a dull, languid thing, a mere indiffer- 
 eney ; thine heart is not in it; it is not animated with 
 the fervor of thy spirit, Thou hast neither the coldness 
 of the profligate sinner, nor the sacred fire and life of 
 the true christian ; but thou keepest in a sort of me- 
 dium between them. In some things thou resemblest 
 the one, in other things the other; as lukewarmness 
 partakes of the nature both of heat and cold. 
 
 Now such a lukewarmness is an eternal solecism in 
 religion: it is the most absurd and inconsistent thing 
 imaginable; more so than avowed impiety, or a pro- 
 fessed rejection of all religion : therefore, says Christ, 
 I xcould thou wert cold or hot. /. e. " You might be 
 any thing more consistently than what you arc. If 
 you looked upon religion as a cheat, and openly reject- 
 ed the profession of it, it would not be strange that 
 you should be careless about it, and disregard it in 
 practice. Ihit to own it true, and make a profession 
 of it, and yet be lukewarm and indifferent about it, 
 this is the most absurd conduct that can be conceived; 
 tor, if it be true, it is certainly the most important 
 zivA interesting truth in all the world, and requires the 
 utmost exertion of all your powers." 
 
 When (JhrUt. expre.s-.-s his abhorrence of lukewarm- 
 fuss in the form of a wish, / xcould thou wert cold or 
 //'/', we are not to suppose his meaning to be, that 
 coldness or fervour in religion arc equally acceptable, 
 
 Z'j
 
 342 The Danger of Serm. 15. 
 
 or that coldness is at all acceptable to him ; for reason 
 and revelation concur to assure us, that the open rejec- 
 tion and avowed contempt of religion is an aggravated 
 wickedness, as well as an hypocritical profession. But 
 our Lord's design is to express in the strongest manner 
 possible, how odious and abominable their lukewarm- 
 ness was to him ; as if he should say, " Your state is 
 so bad, that you cannot change for the worse ; I would 
 rather you were any thing than what you are." You 
 are ready to observe, that the lukewarm professor is in 
 reality wicked and corrupt at heart, a slave to sin, and 
 an enemy to God, as well as the avowed sinner; and 
 therefore they are both hateful in the sight of God, 
 and both in a state of condemnation. But there are 
 some aggravations peculiar to the lukewarm professor 
 that render him peculiarly odious; as, 1. He adds the 
 sin of an hypocritical profession to his other sins. 
 The wickedness of real irreligion, and the wickedness 
 of falsely pretending to be religious, meet and center 
 in him at once. 2. To all this he adds the guilt of 
 presumption, pride, and self- flattery, imagining he is 
 in a safe state and in favour with God ; whereas he that 
 makes no pretensions to religion, has no such umbrage 
 for this conceit and delusion. Thus the miserable 
 Laodiceans i: thought themselves rich, and increased 
 in goods, and in need of nothing. " 3. Hence it fol- 
 lows, that the lukewarm professor is in the most dan- 
 gerous condition, as he is not liable to conviction, nor 
 so likely to be brought to repentance. Thus publicans 
 and harlots received the gospel more readily than the 
 self- righteous Pharisees. 4. The honour of God and 
 religion is more injured by the negligent, unconscien- 
 tious behaviour of these Laodiceans, than by the vices 
 of those who make no pretensions to religion ; with 
 whom therefore its honour has no connexion. On these 
 accounts you see lukewarmness is more aggravatedly 
 sinful and dangerous than entire coldness about reli- 
 gion. 
 
 So then, says Christ, Because thou art lukewarm, ad 
 neither cold nor hot, Iivill spue thee out of my mouth : 
 this is their doom; as if he should say, " As lukewarm 
 water is more disagreeable to the stomach than either
 
 Serv. .15. Lukezcarmness in Religion. 343 
 
 cold or hot, so you, of all others, are the most abomi- 
 nable to me. I am quite sick of such professors, and 
 I will cast them out of my church, and reject them for 
 ever." 
 
 My present design is to expose the peculiar absurdity 
 and wickedness of lukewarmness or indifferency in 
 religion; a disease that has spread its deadly contagion 
 far and wide among us, and calls for a speedy cure. 
 And let me previously observe to you, that, if 1 do not 
 offer yoii sufficient arguments to convince your own 
 reason of the absurdity and wickedness of such a tern- 
 per, then you may still indulge it; but that if my 
 arguments are sufficient, then shake off your sloth, and 
 be fervent in spirit ; and if you neglect your duty, be 
 it at your peril. 
 
 In illustrating this point I shall proceed upon this 
 plain principle, That Religion is, of all things, the 
 most important in itself, and the most interesting to us. 
 This we cannot deny, without openly pronouncing it 
 an imposture. It" there be a God, as religion teaches 
 us, he is the most glorious, the most venerable, and the 
 most lovely Being; and nothing can be so important 
 to us as his favour, and nothing so terrible as his dis- 
 pleasure. If he be our Maker, our Benefactor, our 
 Lawgiver and Judge, it must be our greatest concern 
 to serve him with all our might. If Jesus Christ be 
 such a Saviour as our religion represents, and we profess 
 to believe, he demands our warmest love and most 
 lively services. If eternity, if heaven and hell, and 
 the final judgment, are realities, they are certainly the 
 most august, the most awful, important, and interest- 
 ing realities ; and, in comparison of them, the most 
 weighty concerns of the present life are but trifles, 
 dreams, and shadows. If prayer and other religious 
 exercises are our duty, certainly they require all the 
 vigour of our souls ; and nothing can be more absurd 
 or incongruous than to perforin them in a languid, 
 spiritless manner, as if we knew not what we were 
 about. If there be any life within us, these are proper 
 objects to call it forth : if our souls are endowed with 
 active powers, here are objects that demand their ut- 
 most exertion. Here we can never be so much- in 
 
 Z4
 
 344 The Danger of Skrm. 15. 
 
 earnest as the case requires. Trifle about any thing, 
 but O do not trifle here ! Be careless and indifferent 
 about crowns and kingdoms, about health, life, and all 
 the world, but O be not careless and indifferent about 
 such immense concerns as these 1 
 
 But to be more particular : let us take a view of a 
 lukewarm temper in various attitudes, or with respect 
 to several objects, particularly towards God- towards 
 Jesus Christ a future state of happiness or misery 
 and in the duties of religion; and in each of these 
 views we cannot but be shocked at so monstrous a 
 temper, especially if we consider our difficulties and 
 dangers in a religious life, and the eagerness and acti- 
 vity of mankind in inferior pursuits 
 
 1. Consider who and what God is. He is the ori- 
 ginal uncreated beauty, the sum total of all natural and 
 moral perfections, the origin of all the excellencies that 
 are scattered through this glorious universe ; he is the 
 supreme good, and the only proper portion for our im- 
 mortal spirits. He also sustains the most majestic and 
 endearing relations to us ; our Father, our Preserver 
 and Benefactor, our Lawgiver, and our Judge. And 
 is such a Being to be put off with heartless, lukewarm 
 services? What can be more absurd or impious than 
 to dishonour supreme excellency and beauty with a 
 languid love and esteem ; to trifle in the presence of 
 the most venerable Majesty ; treat the best of beings 
 with indifferency ; to be careless about our duty to 
 such a Father; to return such a Benefactor only insipid 
 eomplimental expressions of gratitude; to be dull and 
 spiritless in obedience to such a Law-giver; and to be 
 indifferent about the favour or displeasure of such a 
 Judge ! I appeal to heaven and earth, if this be not 
 the most shocking conduct imaginable. Does not 
 your reason pronounce it horrid and most daringly 
 tvicked? And yet thus is the great and blessed God 
 treated by the generality of mankind. It is most 
 astonishing that he should bear with such treatment so 
 long, and that mankind themselves arc- not shocked at 
 it: but such the case really is. And are there not 
 some lukewarm Laodiceans in this assembly? Jesus 
 knows your works, that you are neither cold nor hot;
 
 Stlrm. 15. Lukewarmness in ReIigio?2. 345 
 
 and it is fit you should also know them. "May you not 
 be convinced, upon a little inquiry, that your hearts 
 are habitually indifferent towards God? You may 
 indeed entertain a speculative esteem or a good opinion 
 of him, but are your souls alive towards him ? Do 
 they burn with his lover And are you fervent in 
 spirit when you are serving him? Some of you, I 
 hope, amid all your infirmities, can give comfortable 
 answers to these inquiries. But alas 1 how few ! But 
 yet as to such of you as are lukewarm, and neither cold 
 nor hot, you are the most abominable creatures upon 
 earth to an holy God. Be zealous, be warm, therefore, 
 unci repent. ( ver. ly.) 
 
 2. Is lukewarmness a proper temper towards Jesus 
 Christ? Is this a suitable return for that love which 
 brought him down from his native paradise into our 
 wretched world ? That love which kept his mind for 
 thirty-three painful and tedious years intent upon this 
 one object, the salvation of sinners? That love which 
 rendered him cheerfully patient of the shame, the 
 curse, the tortures of crucifixion, and all the agonies 
 of the most painful death? That love which makes 
 him the sinner's friend still in the courts of Heaven, 
 where he appears as our prevailing Advocate and In- 
 tercessor; Blessed Jesus! is lukewarmness a proper 
 return to thee for all this kindness? No; methinks 
 devils cannot treat thee worse. AIv fellow-mortals, my 
 fellow sinners, who are the objects of all this love, can 
 you put him off with languid devotions and faint ser- 
 vices? Then every grateful and generous passion is 
 extinct in your souls, and you are qualified to venture 
 upon every form of ingratitude and baseness. () was 
 Christ indifferent about your salvation? Was his love 
 lukewarm towards you? No; your salvation Mas the 
 object of his most intense application night and day 
 through the whole course of his life, and it lay nearest 
 his bean in the agonies of death. For this lie had a 
 baptism to be baptized with, a baptism, an immersion in 
 tears ami blood ; and how am I Uraitened; says he, till it 
 be aecompli.shed ! For this, let tit desire he desired to eat 
 his last pa.ssover, because it introduced the last scene 
 of his sufferings. Hi, love! what shall I say of it?
 
 346 The Danger of Serm. 14. 
 
 What language can describe its strength and ardor ? 
 His love was strong as deaths the coals thereof were, 
 coals of fire , which had a most vehement fame : many 
 waters could not quench it, nor the foods drown it. 
 Cant. viii. 6, 7- Never did a tender mother love her 
 sucking child with a love equal to his. Never was a 
 father more earnest to rescue an only son from the 
 hands of a murderer, or to pluck him out of the fire, 
 than Jesus was to save perishing sinners. Now to 
 neglect him after all; to forget him; or to think of 
 him with indiffereney, as though he were a being of 
 but little importance, and we but little obliged to him, 
 what is all this but the most unnatural, barbarous in- 
 gratitude, and the most shocking wickedness? Do 
 you not expect everlasting happiness from him pur- 
 chased at the expence of his blood ? And can you 
 hope for such an immense blessing from him without 
 feeling yourselves most sensibly obliged to him? Can 
 you hope he will do so much for you, and can you be 
 content to do nothing for him, or to go through his 
 service with lukewarmness and languor, as if you cared 
 not how you hurried through it, or how little you had 
 to do with it? Can any thing be more absurd or 
 impious than this? Methinks you may defy hell to 
 shew a worse temper. May not Christ justly wish you 
 were either cold or hot; wish you were any thing, 
 rather than thus lukewarm towards him under a profes- 
 sion of friendship? Alas! my brethren, if this be 
 your habitual temper, instead of being saved by him 
 you may expect he will reject you with the most nau- 
 seating disgust and abhorrence. But, 
 
 3. Is lukewarmness and indiffereney a suitable tem- 
 per with respect to a future state of happiness or 
 misery ? Is it a suitable temper with respect to an hap- 
 piness far exceeding the utmost bounds of our present 
 thoughts and wishes ; an happiness equal to the largest 
 capacities of our souls in their most improved and per- 
 fected state ; an happiness beyond the grave, when all 
 the enjoyments of this transitory life have taken an 
 eternal flight from us, and leave us hungry and famish- 
 ing for ever, if these be our only portion ; an happiness 
 that will last as long as our immortal spirits, and never
 
 Seiim. 1 J. Lukezcarmness in religion. 347 
 
 fade or fly from us? Or are lukewarmness and indif* 
 ferency a suitable temper with respect to a misery 
 beyond expression, beyond conception dreadful ; a 
 misery inflicted by a God of almighty power and in- 
 exorable justice upon a number of obstinate, incorri- 
 gible rebels for numberless, wilful, and daring provoca- 
 tions, inflicted on purpose to shew his wrath and make 
 his power known; a misery proceeding from the united 
 fury of divine indignation, of turbulent passions, of a 
 guilty conscience, of malicious, tormenting devils; a 
 misery (who can bear up under the horror of the 
 thought !) that shall last as long as the eternal God 
 shall live to inflict it ; as long as sin shall continue evil 
 to deserve it; as long as an immortal spirit shall endure 
 to bear it; a misery that shall never be mitigated, never 
 intermitted, never, never, never see an end? And 
 remember, that a state of happiness or misery is not 
 far remote from us, but near us, just before us; the 
 next year, the next hour, or the next moment, we 
 may enter into it ; is a state for which we are now 
 candidates, now upon trial; now our eternal all lies at 
 stake: and, O sirs, does an inactive, careless posture 
 become us in such a situation? Is a state of such hap- 
 piness, or such misery; is such a state, just just before 
 us, a matter of indifferency to us? O can you be luke- 
 warm about such matters ? Was ever such prodigious 
 stupidity seen under the canopy of heaven, or even in 
 the regions of hell, which abound with monstrous and 
 horrid dispositions? No; the hardiest ghost below 
 cannot make light of these things. Mortals! can you 
 trifle about them? Well, trifle a little longer, and your 
 trifling will be over for ever. You may be indifferent 
 about the improving of your time; but time is not 
 indifferent whether to pass by or not ; it is determined 
 to continue its rapid course, and hurry you into the 
 ocean of eternity, though you should continue sleep- 
 ing and dreaming through all the passage. Therefore 
 awake, arise; exert yourselves before your doom be 
 unchangeably fixed. It you have any fire within you, 
 here let it burn ; if you have any active powers, here 
 Jet them be exerted; here or no where, and on no oeca 
 sion. Be active, be in earnest where you should be;
 
 348 The Danger of Serm. 15. 
 
 or debase and sink yourselves into stocks and stones, and 
 escape the curse of being reasonable and active creatures. 
 Let the criminal condemned to die to-morrow, be in- 
 different about a reprieve or a pardon ; let a drowning 
 man be careless about catching at the only plank that 
 can save him ; but O do not you be careless and indif- 
 ferent about eternity, and such amazing realities as heaven 
 and hell. If you disbelieve these things, you are infidels; 
 if you believe these things, and yet are unaffected with 
 them, vou are worse than infidels : you are a sort of 
 shocking singularities;, and prodigies in nature. Not hell 
 itself can find a precedent of such a conduct. The devils 
 believe, and tremble ; you believe, and trifle with things 
 whose very names strike solemnity and awe through 
 heaven and hell. But, 
 
 4. Let us see how this lukewarm temper agrees with 
 the duties of religion. And as I cannot particularize 
 them all, I shall only mention an instance or two. View 
 a lukewarm professor in prayer; he pays to an omniscient 
 God the compliment of a bended knee, as though he 
 could impose upon him with such an empty pretence. 
 When he is addressing the Supreme Majesty of Heaven 
 and earth he hardly ever recollects in whose presence he 
 is, or whom he is speaking to, but seems as if he were 
 worshipping without an object, or pouring out empty 
 words into the air: perhaps through the whole prayer he 
 had not so much as one solemn, affecting thought of that 
 God whose name he so often invoked. Here is a crimi- 
 nal petitioning for pardon so carelessly, that he scarcely 
 knows what he is about. Here is a needy famishing 
 beggar pleading for such immense blessings as everlast- 
 ing salvation, and all the jovs of heaven, so lukewarmly 
 and thoughtlessly as if he cared not whether his requests 
 were granted or not. Here is an obnoxious offender 
 confessing his sins with an heart untouched with sorrow ; 
 worshipping the living God with a dead heart ; making- 
 great requests, but he forgets them as soon as he rises 
 from his knees, and is not at all inquisitive what became 
 of them, and whether thev were accepted or not. And 
 can there be a more shocking, impious, and daring con- 
 duct than this? To trifle in the royal presence would 
 riot be such an audacious affront. Tor a criminal to
 
 Serm. 15. Lukexoarmmss in Religion. 349 
 
 catch flies or sport with a feather when pleading with his 
 judge for his pardon, would be but a faint shadow of 
 such religious trifling! What are such prayers but solemn 
 mockeries and disguised insults ? And vet, is not this 
 the usual method in which many of you address the great 
 God ! The words proceed no farther than from your 
 tongue : you do not pour them out from the bottom of 
 vour hearts; thev have no life or spirit in them, and you 
 hardly ever reflect upon their meaning. And when you 
 have talked away to God in this manner, you will have 
 it to pass for a praver. But surely such pravers must 
 bring down a curse upon you instead of a blessing: such 
 sacrifices must be an abomination to the Lord. Prov. xv. 
 8. : and it is astonishing that he has not mingled your 
 blood with your sacrifices, and sent you from your knees 
 to hell, from thoughtless, unmeaning prayer to real blas- 
 phemy and torture. 
 
 The next instance I shall mention is with regard to the 
 word of God. You own it divine ; you profess it the standard 
 of yourreligion, and the most excellent book in the world. 
 Now, if this be the case, it is God that speaks to you ; it is God 
 that sends you an epistle when you are reading or hearing 
 his word. How impious and provoking then must it be to 
 neglect it, to let it lie by you as an antiquated, useless 
 book, or to read it in a careless, superficial manner, and 
 hear it with an inattentive, wandering mind ? How would 
 you take it, if, when you spoke to your servant about 
 his own interest, he should turn away from you, and not 
 regard you ? Or if you should write a letter to your son, 
 and he should not so much as carefully read it, or labour 
 to understand it ? And do not some of you treat the 
 sacred oracles in this manner? You make but little use 
 of vour Bible, but to teach your children to read: Or if you 
 read, or hear its contents \ ourselves, arc you not un- 
 affected with them? One would think s'ou would be all 
 attention and reverence to every word ; you would drink 
 it in, and thirst for it as new-born babes for their mother's 
 milk; you would feel its energy, and acquire the charac- 
 ter of that happy man to whom t he God of heaven vouch- 
 safes to look ; you would tremble at his word. Jt reveals 
 the only method of your salvation ; it contains the only 
 charter of all vour blessings. In short, you have the
 
 350 The Danger of Serm. 15. 
 
 nearest personal interest in it, and can you be uncon* 
 cerned hearers of it ! I am sure your reason and con- 
 science must condemn such stupidity and indifterency as 
 incongruous, and outrageously wicked. 
 
 And now let me remind you of the observation I made 
 when entering upon this subject, that if I should not offer 
 sufficient matter of conviction, you might go on in your 
 lukewarmness ; but if your own reason should be fully 
 convinced that such a temper is most wicked and un- 
 reasonable, then you might indulge it at your peril. 
 What do you say now in the issue ? Ye modern Laodi- 
 ceans, are you not yet struck with horror at the thought 
 of that insipid, formal, spiritless religion you have hither- 
 to been contented with? And do you not see the neces- 
 sity of following the advice of Christ to the Laodicean 
 church, be zealous, be fervent for the future, and repent, 
 bitterly repent what is past ? To urge this the more, 
 I have two considerations in reserve, of no small weight. 
 1. Consider the difficulties and dangers in your way. O 
 sirs, if you knew the difficulty of the work of your sal- 
 vation, and the great danger of miscarrying in it, you 
 could not be so indifferent about it, nor could you flatter 
 yourselves such languid endeavours will ever succeed. It 
 is a labour, a striving, a race, a warfare ; so it is called in 
 the sacred writings : but would there be any propriety in 
 these expressions if it were a course of sloth and in- 
 activity ? Consider, you have strong lusts to be subdued, 
 an hard heart to be broken, a variety of graces which 
 you are entirely destitute of to be implanted and cherish- 
 ed, and that in an unnatural soil where they will not 
 grow without careful cultivation, and that vou have many 
 temptations to be encountered and resisted. In short, 
 you must be made new men, quite other creatures than 
 you now are. And O ! can this work be successfully 
 performed while you make such faint and feeble efforts? 
 Indeed God is the Agent, and all your best endeavours 
 can never effect the blessed revolution without him. But 
 his assistance is not to be expected in the neglect, or 
 careless use of means, nor is it intended to encourage 
 idleness, but activity and labour ; and when he comes to 
 work, he will soon inflame your hearts, and put an end 
 to your lukewarmness. Again, your dangers are also
 
 St: km. 15. Lakexvannness in Religion. 351 
 
 great and numerous ; you are in danger from presump- 
 tion and from despondency ; from coldness, from luke- 
 warmness, and from false tires and enthusiastic heats ; in 
 danger from self-righteousness, and lrom open wicked- 
 ness, from your own corrupt hearts, from this ensnaring 
 world, and from the temptations of the devil : you are 
 in great danger of sleeping on in security without ever 
 being thoroughly awakened ; or, if you should be awak- 
 ened, you are in danger of resting short of vital religion; 
 and in either of these cases you are undone forever. In 
 a word, dangers crowd thick around you on every hand, 
 from every quarter; dangers, into which thousands, mil- 
 lions of your fellow-men have fallen and never recover- 
 ed. Indeed, all things considered, it is very doubtful 
 whether ever you will be saved who are now lukewarm 
 and secure : I do not mean that your success is uncertain 
 if you be brought to use means with proper earnestness ; 
 but alas ! it is awfully uncertain whether ever you will 
 be brought to use them in this manner. And, O sirs, 
 can you continue secure and inactive when you have 
 such difficulties to encounter with in a work of absolute 
 necessity, and when you are surrounded with so many 
 and so great dangers ? Alas ! are you capable of such 
 destructive madness ! O that you knew the true state of 
 the case ! Such a knowledge would soon fire you with the 
 greatest ardour, and make you all life and vigour in this 
 important work. 
 
 2. Consider how earnest and active men are in other 
 pursuits. Should we form a judgment of the faculties 
 of human nature by the conduct of the generality in 
 religion, we should be apt to conclude that men are 
 mere snails, and that they have no active powers be- 
 longing to them. But view them about other affairs, 
 and you find they are all life, fire, and hurry. What 
 labour and toil ! what schemes and contrivances ! what 
 solicitude about success ! what fears of disappointment ! 
 hands, heads, hearts, all busy. And all this to procure 
 those enjoyments which at best they cannot long retain, 
 and which the next hour may tear from them. To ac- 
 quire a name or a diadem, to obtain riches or honours, 
 what hardships are undergone ! what dangers dared ! what 
 rivers of blood shed ! how many millions of lives have
 
 352 The Danger of Serm. \5. 
 
 been lost ! and how many more endangered ! In short, 
 the world is all alive, all in motion with business. On 
 sea and land, at home and abroad, you will find men 
 eagerly pursuing some temporal good. They grow grey- 
 headed, and die in the attempt without reaching their 
 end; but this disappointment does not discourage the 
 survivors and successors ; still they will continue, or re- 
 new the endeavour. Now here men act like themselves; 
 and they shew they are alive, and endowed with powers 
 of great activity. And shall they be thus zealous and 
 laborious in the pursuit of earthly vanities, and be quite 
 indifferent and sluggish in the infinitely more important 
 concerns of eternity ? What, solicitous about a mortal 
 body, but careless about an immortal soul ! Eager in 
 pursuit of joys of a few years, but careless and remiss 
 in seeking an immortality of perfect happiness ! Anxious 
 to avoid poverty, shame, sickness, pain, and all the evils, 
 real or imaginary, of the present life ; but indifferent 
 about an whole eternity of the most intolerable misery ! 
 O the destructive folly, the daring wickedness of such a 
 conduct ! My brethren, is religion the only thing which 
 demands the utmost exertion of all your powers, and 
 alas ! is that the only thing in which you will be dull and 
 inactive ? Is everlasting happiness the only thing about 
 which you will be remiss ? Is eternal punishment the 
 only misery which you are indifferent whether you 
 escape or not ? Is God the only good which you pursue 
 with faint and lazy desires! How preposterous! how 
 absurd is this ! You can love the world ; you can love 
 a father, a child, or a friend ; nay you can love that 
 abominable, hateful thing, sin : these you can love with 
 ardour, serve with pleasure, pursue with eagerness, and 
 with all your might; but the ever-blessed God, and the 
 Lord Jesus, your best friend, you put off with a lukewarm 
 heart and spiritless services. O inexpressibly monstrous! 
 Lord, what is this that has befallen thine own offspring, 
 that they arc so disaffected towards thee ? filessed Jesus, 
 what hast thou done that thou shouldst be treated thus? 
 O sinners ! what will be the consequence of such a con- 
 duct ? Will that God take you into the bosom of his 
 love ? will that Jesus save you by his blood, whom you 
 make so light of? No, you may go and seek a heaven
 
 Serai. 15. Lukexvarmness in Religion. 35S 
 
 where you can find it ; for God will give you none. Go, 
 shift for yourselves, or look out for a Saviour where you 
 will ; Jesus will have nothing to do with you, except to 
 take care to inflict proper punishment upon you if you 
 retain this lukewarm temper towards him. Hence, by 
 way of improvement, learn, 
 
 1. The vanity and wickedness of a lukewarm religion. 
 Though you should profess the best religion that ever 
 came from heaven, it will not save you ; nay, it will 
 condemn you with peculiar aggravations if you are luke- 
 warm in it. This spirit of indifierency diffused through 
 it, turns it all into deadly poison. Your religious duties 
 are all abominable to God while the vigour of your spi- 
 rits is not exerted in them. Your prayers are insults, 
 and he will answer them as such by terrible things in 
 righteousness. And do any of you hope to be saved by 
 such a religion? I tell you from the God of truth, it will 
 be so far from saving you, that it will certainly ruin you 
 for ever : continue as you are till the last, and you will 
 be as certainly damned to all eternity as Judas, or Beel- 
 zebub, or any ghost in hell. But alas ! 
 
 2. How common, how fashionable is this lukew r arm 
 religion ! This is the prevailing, epidemical sin of our 
 age and country ; and it is well if it has not the same 
 fatal effect upon us as it had upon Laodicea : Laodicea 
 lost its liberty, its religion, and its all. Therefore let 
 Virginia hear and fear, and do no more so wickedly. 
 We have thousands of christians, such as they are ; as 
 many christians as white men ; but alas ! they are gene- 
 rally of the Laodicean stamp ; they are neither cold nor 
 hot. But it is our first concern to know how it is with 
 ourselves; therefore let this inquiry go round this con- 
 gregation: Are you not such lukewarm christians? Is 
 there any fire and life in vour devotions? Or are not all 
 your active powers engrossed bv other pursuits ? Impar- 
 tially make the inquiry, for infinitely more depends upon 
 it than upon your temporal life. 
 
 :]. If you have hitherto been possessed with this Lao- 
 dicean spirit, I beseech you indulge it no longer. You 
 have seen that it mars all your religion, and will cud in 
 your eternal ruin : and I hope you are not so hardened 
 as to be proof aguiiiot the energy of this consideration. 
 
 Vol. I. A a
 
 554> The Danger of Lukewarmness. Serm. 15. 
 
 Why halt you so long between two opinions? / zvoidd 
 you were cold or hot. Either make thorough work of 
 religion, or do not pretend to it. Why should you pro- 
 fess a religion which is but an insipid indiflerency with 
 you ? Such a religion is good for nothing. Therefore 
 awake, arise, exert yourselves. Strive to enter in at the 
 Strait gate ; strive earnestly, or you are shut out for ever. 
 Infuse heart and spirit into your religion. " Whatever . 
 your hand findeth to do, do it with your might. " Now, 
 this moment, while my voice sounds in your ears, now 
 begin the vigorous enterprize. Now collect all the vi- 
 gour of your souls, and breathe it out in such a prayer as 
 this, " Lord, fire this heart with thy love." Prayer is a 
 proper introduction : for let me remind you of what I 
 should never forget, that God is the only Author of this 
 sacred fire ; it is only he that can quicken you : there- 
 fore, ye poor careless creatures, fly to him in an agony 
 of importunity, and never desist, never grow weary till 
 you prevail. 
 
 4. And lastly, Let the best of us lament our lukewarm- 
 ness, and earnestly seek more fervour of spirit. Some 
 of you have a little life; you enjoy some warm and 
 vigorous moments ; and O they are divinely sweet. But 
 reflect how soon your spirits flag, your devotion cools, 
 and your zeal languishes. Think of this, and be humble: 
 think of this, and apply for more life. You know where 
 to apply. Christ is your life ; therefore cry to him for 
 the communications of it. " Lord Jesus ! a little more 
 life, a little more vital heat to a languishing soul." Take 
 this method, and you shall ran, and not be weary ; you 
 shall walk, and not faint. Isaiah xl. 31.
 
 SERMON XVI, 
 
 The Divine Government the Joy of our 
 
 World. 
 
 Psalm, xcvii. 1. 
 
 The Lord reignetk, let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of the 
 isles be glad thereof. 
 
 WISE and good rulers are justly accounted an exten- 
 sive blessing to their subjects. In a government 
 where wisdom sits at the helm; and justice, tempered 
 with clemency, holds the balance of retribution, liberty 
 and propertv are secured, encroaching ambition is check- 
 ed, helpless innocence is protected, and universal order 
 is established, and consequently peace and happiness 
 diffuse their streams through the land. In such a situa- 
 tion every heart must rejoice, every countenance look 
 cheerful, and every bosom glow with gratitude to the 
 happy instruments of such extended beneficence. 
 
 But, on the other hand, Wo to thee, O land, when thy 
 king is a child. Eccles. x. Hi. ; weak, injudicious, hu- 
 moursome, and peevish. This is the denunciation of 
 Solomon, a sage philosopher, and an opulent king, whose 
 station, capacity, and inclination, conspired to give him 
 the deepest skill in politics; and this denunciation has 
 been accomplished in every age. Empires have fallen, 
 liberty has been fettered, property has been invaded, the 
 lives of men have been arbitrarily taken away, and misery 
 and desolation have broken in like a flood, when the 
 government has been intrusted in the hands of tyranny, 
 of luxury, or rashness; and the advantages of climate 
 and soil, and all others which nature could bestow, have 
 not been able to make the subjects happy under the bale- 
 ful influence of such an administration. 
 
 A a 2
 
 $56 The Divine Government Serm. 16. 
 
 It has frequently been the unhappy fate of nations to 
 be enslaved to such rulers ; but such is the unavoidable 
 imperfection of all human governments,, that when, like 
 our own, they are managed by the best hands, they are 
 attended with many calamities, and cannot answer several 
 valuable ends ; and from both these considerations we 
 may infer the necessity of a divine government over the 
 whole universe, and particularly over the earth, in which 
 we are more especially concerned. Without this supreme 
 universal Monarch, the affairs of this world would fall 
 into confusion ; and the concerns of the next could not 
 be managed at all. The capacities of the wisest of men 
 are scanty, and not equal to all the purposes of govern- 
 ment ; and hence many affairs of importance will be 
 unavoidably misconducted; and dangerous plots and 
 aggravated crimes may be undiscovered for want of 
 knowledge, or pass unpunished for want of power. A 
 wise and good ruler may be diffusing among his subjects 
 all that happiness which can result from the imperfect 
 administration of mortals, but he may be tumbled from 
 his throne, and his government thrown into the greatest 
 disorder by a more powerful invader; so that the best 
 ruler could not make his subjects lastingly happy, unless 
 he were universal monarch of the globe (a province too 
 great for any mortal) and above the reach of the ambi- 
 tious power of others. Further, Human dominion can- 
 not extend to the souls and consciences of men : civil 
 rulers can neither know nor govern them ; and yet these 
 must be governed and brought into subjection to the 
 eternal laws of reason, otherwise tranquillity cannot sub- 
 sist on earth ; and especially the great purposes of reli- 
 gion, which regard a future state, cannot be answered. 
 
 Men are placed here to be formed by a proper educa- 
 tion for another world, for another class, and other em- 
 ployments; but civil rulers cannot form them lor these 
 important ends, and therefore they must be under the 
 government of one who has access to their spirits, and 
 can manage them as he pleases. 
 
 Deeply imprest with these and other considerations, 
 which shall be presently mentioned, the Psalmist is trans- 
 ported into this reflection, The Lord rcignethj let the
 
 Serm. 16\ the Joy of our World. 357 
 
 earth rejoice; let the multitude of the isles be glad 
 thereof. 
 
 The Psalmist seems to have the mediatorial empire of 
 grace erected by Immanuel more immediately in view ; 
 and this indeed deserves our special notice ; but no doubt 
 he included the divine government in general, which is 
 a just ground of universal joy : and in this latitude I 
 shall consider the text. 
 
 Persons in a transport are apt to speak abruptly, and 
 omit the particles of connection and inference usual in 
 calm reasoning. Thus the Psalmist cries out,, The Lord 
 reigneth, let the earth rejoice : let the multitude of the 
 isles be glad thereof! but if we reduce the passage into 
 an argumentative form, it will stand thus, " The Lord 
 reigneth, therefore let the earth rejoice; and let the 
 multitude of the isles be glad upon this account," 
 
 The earth may here signify, by an usual metonomy, 
 the rational inhabitants of the earth, who are especially 
 concerned in the divine government ; or, by a beautiful 
 poetical prosopopoeia, it may signify the inanimate globe 
 of the earth ; and then it intimates that the divine govern- 
 ment is so important a blessing, that even the inanimate 
 and senseless creation would rejoice in it, were it capable 
 of such passions*. The isles may likewise be taken figu- 
 ratively for their inhabitants, particularly the Gentiles 
 who resided in them ; or literally for tracts of land sur* 
 rounded with water. 
 
 Aly present design is, 
 
 To illustrate this glorious truth, that Jehovah's supreme 
 government is a just cause of universal joy. 
 
 For that end I shall consider the divine government in 
 various views, as legislative, providential, mediatorial, 
 and judicial; and shew that in each of these views the 
 divine government is matter of universal joy. 
 
 I. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of legislation, let 
 the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of the isles be glad 
 thereof. 
 
 * By the same figure the inanimate parts of the creation are called 
 upon to praise the Lord. Psalm cxlviii. and are said to travail and groan. 
 under the sin of man. Horn. viii. 22. 
 
 Aa3
 
 358 The Divine Government Serm. 16. 
 
 He is the one supreme Lawgiver, Jam. iv. 12. and is 
 perfectly qualified for that important trust. Nothing 
 tends more to the advantage of civil society than to 
 have good laws established, according to which mankind 
 are to conduct themselves, and according to which their 
 rulers will deal with them. Now the supreme and univeiv 
 sal King has enacted and published the best laws for the 
 government of the moral world, and of the human race 
 in particular. 
 
 Let the earth then rejoice that God has clearly revealed 
 his will to us, and not left us in inextricable perplexities 
 about our duty to him and mankind. Human reason, or 
 the light of nature, gives us some intimations of the 
 duties of morality, even in our degenerate state, and for 
 this information we should bless God ; but alas ! these 
 discoveries are very imperfect, and we need supernatural 
 revelation to make known to us the way of life. Accord- 
 ingly, the Lord has favoured us with the sacred oracles 
 as a supplement to the feeble light of nature ; and in 
 them we are fully *' taught what is good, and what the 
 Lord requireth of us." And what cause of joy is this! 
 How painful are the anxieties that attend uncertainty 
 about matters of duty ! How distressing a doubtful, 
 fluctuating mind in an affair of such tremendous impor- 
 tance ! This, no doubt, some of you that are conscien- 
 tious have had the experience of, in particular cases, 
 when you were at a loss to apply to them the general 
 directions in sacred scripture. 
 
 Again, Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of 
 the isles be glad that these laws are suitably enforced 
 with proper sanctions. The sanctions are such as become 
 a God of infinite wisdom, almighty power, inexorable 
 justice, untainted holiness, and unbounded goodness and 
 grace, and such as are agreeable to the nature of reason- 
 able creatures formed for an immortal duration. The 
 rewards of obedience in the divine legislation are not 
 such toys as posts of honour and profit, crowns and 
 empires, which are the highest rewards that civil rulers 
 can promise or bestow ; but rational peace and serenity 
 of mind, undaunted bravery under the frowns of adver- 
 sity, a cheerful confidence in the divine guardianship 
 under all the calamities of life, and in the future world
 
 Serm. 16\ the Joy of our World. 359 
 
 an intire exemption from all sorrow, and from sin, the 
 fruitful source of all our afflictions; the possession of 
 every good, the enjoyment of the divine presence, of 
 the society of angels and the spirits of just men made 
 perfect ; in short, the fruition of an happiness above 
 our present wishes, and equal to our then mature fa- 
 culties, and all this for ever: these are the rewards of 
 evangelical obedience, not indeed for its own sake, but 
 upon account of the righteousness of the blessed Jesus; 
 and if these fail to allure men to obedience, what can 
 prevail ? And how happy is it to live under a govern- 
 ment, where virtue and religion, which in their own 
 nature tend to our happiness, are enforced with such 
 resistless arguments ! On the other hand, the penalty 
 annext by the divine Lawgiver to disobedience is pro- 
 portionably dreadful. To pine and languish under the 
 secret curse of angry Heaven, which, like a contagious 
 poison, diffuses itself through all the enjoyments of the 
 wicked, Mai. ii. 2. ; to sweat under the agonies of a 
 guilty conscience in this world, and in the future world 
 to be banished from the beatific presence of God and 
 all the joys of heaven ; to feel the anguish and remorse 
 of guilty reflections; to burn in unquenchable fire; to 
 consume a miserable eternity in the horrid society of 
 malignant ghosts ; and all this without the least rational 
 expectation; nay, without so much as a deluded hope 
 of deliverance, or the mitigation of torture, through 
 the revolutions of endless ages, all this is a faint repre- 
 sentation of the penalty annext to disobedience; and 
 is a penalty worthy a God to inflict, and equal to 
 the infinite malignity of sin. And let the earth rejoice. ; 
 let the multitude of the isles be glad, on account not 
 only of the promissory sanction of the law, but also 
 of this tremendous penalty ; for it flows not only from 
 justice hut from goodness, as well as its promise. The 
 penalty is not annext to the law, inn- will it be executed 
 from a malignant pleasure in the misery of the crea- 
 ture, hut it is annext from a regard to the happiness of 
 mankind, and will be executed upon individuals for 
 the extensive good of the whole as well as for the 
 honourable display of the divine purity and justice. 
 A penally is primarily intended to deter men from dis- 
 
 A a 4
 
 36*0 The Divine Government Serm. 16, 
 
 obedience. Now disobedience tends in its own nature 
 to make us miserable; it renders it impossible, in the 
 nature of things, that we should be happy in the en- 
 joyment of God and the employments of heaven, 
 which are eternally and immutably contrary to sinful 
 dispositions ; and it fills us with those malignant and 
 unruly passions which cannot but make us uneasy. 
 Hence it follows, that, since the penalty tends to deter 
 us from sin, and since sin naturally tends to make us 
 miserable, therefore the penalty is a kind of gracious 
 inclosure round the pit of misery, to keep us from 
 falling into it: it is a friendly admonition not to drink 
 poison; it is, in a word, a kind restraint upon us in our 
 career to ruin ; and indeed it is a blessing we could not 
 spare : for we find, that, notwithstanding the terror of 
 the threatening, men will run on in sin; and with how 
 much more horrid alacrity and infernal zeal would 
 they continue their course if there were no divine 
 threatening to check and withhold them ! The earth 
 may also rejoice for the execution of the penalty of 
 the divine law against sin; for the conspicuous punish- 
 ment of the disobedient may serve as a loud warning 
 to all rational beings that now exist, or that may here- 
 after be created, not to offend against God ; and thus 
 it may be the means of preserving them in obedience, 
 and so promote the general good ; and it may be that 
 the number of those that shall be punished of the 
 human and angelic natures, when compared to the 
 number of reasonable beings that shall be confirmed 
 in holiness and happiness by observing their doom, 
 may bear no more proportion than the number of cri- 
 minals executed in a government as public examples, 
 does to all the subjects of it; and consequently such 
 punishment may be vindicated on the same principles. 
 Farther; Justice is an amiable attribute in itself, and 
 it appears so to all rational beings but criminals, whose 
 interest it is that it should not be displayed; and there- 
 fore the infliction of just punishment should be matter 
 of general joy, since it is amiable in itself. So it is in 
 human governments : while we are innocent, we ap- 
 prove of the conduct of our magistrates in inflicting 
 capital punishment upon notorious malefactors, though
 
 Serm. l6\ the Joy of our World. 361 
 
 the malefactors themselves view it with horror. But 
 to proceed : 
 
 Let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of the isles 
 be glad, that the divine laws reach the inner man, and 
 have power upon the hearts and consciences of men. 
 Human laws can only smooth our external conduct at 
 best, but the heart in the mean time may be disloyal 
 and wicked. Now this defect is supplied by the laws 
 of the King of Heaven, which are spiritual. They 
 require a complete uniformity and self-consistency in 
 us, that heart and life may agree ; and therefore they 
 are wisely framed to make us entirely good. They 
 have also an inimitable power upon the consciences of 
 men. Should all the world acquit us, yet we cannot 
 acquit ourselves when we violate them. The conscious- 
 ness of a crime has made many an hardy offender sweat 
 and agonize with remorse, though no human eye could 
 witness to his offence. Now what cause of joy is it 
 that these laws are quick and powerful, and that they 
 are attended with almighty energy, which in some 
 measure intimidates and restrains the most audacious, 
 and inspires the conscientious with a pious fear of of- 
 fending 1 
 
 II. " The Lord reigneth by his Providence, let the 
 earth therefore rejoice, and the multitude of the isles 
 be glad thereof" 
 
 The Providence of God is well described in our 
 Shorter Catechism; " It is his most holy, wise, and 
 powerful preserving and governing all his creatures, 
 and all their actions." To particularize all the instan- 
 ces of providential government which may be matter 
 of joy to the earth would be endless, therefore I shall 
 only mention the following : 
 
 Let the earth rejoice, and the multitude of the isles 
 be glad, that the Lord reigneth over the kingdoms of 
 the earth, and manages all their affairs according to 
 his sovereign and wise pleasure. We sometimes hear 
 of wars and rumours of wars, of thrones tottering; 
 and kingdoms falling, of the nations tumultuously 
 raging and dashing in angry conflict, like the waves of 
 the boisterous ocean. In such a juncture we may say, 
 Tlit foods have If ted up, O Lord, the foods have lifted
 
 562 The Divine Government Serbt. 1& 
 
 up their voice. The floods lift up their waves. But the 
 Lord reigneth, therefore the world shall be established 
 that it cannot be moved. The Lord on high is mightier 
 than the noise of many waters; yea, than the mighty 
 waves of the sea. Psalm, xciii. Sometimes the ambition 
 of foreign power, or the encroachments of domestic ty- 
 ranny, may threaten our liberties, and persecution may 
 seem ready to discharge its artillery against the church 
 of God, while every pious heart trembles for the ark, 
 lest it should be carried into the land of its enemies. 
 But the Lord reigneth ! let the earth, let the church 
 rejoice; the eternal God is her refuge, and underneath 
 her are the everlasting arms. Deut. xxxiii. 27. He 
 will overrule the various revolutions of the world for 
 her good; he will give kings for her ransom, iEthi- 
 opia and Seba for her; and the united powers of earth 
 and hell shall not prevail against her. Though the 
 frame of Nature should be unhinged, we may lind re- 
 fuge in our God. Yet it must be owned, that the 
 Lord for the chastisement of his people may suffer their 
 enemies to break in upon them, and may cast them 
 into the furnace of affliction. But let the earth rejoice, 
 let the church be glad that the Lord reigneth over her 
 most powerful enemies, and that they are but execut- 
 ing his will even when they have no regard to it, but 
 are gratifying their own ambition. They are but a 
 rod in the hand of a tender father, who corrects only 
 to amend: and when he has used the rod for this 
 gracious purpose, he will then lay it aside. In this 
 language the Almighty speaks of the haughty Assy- 
 rian monarch who had pushed his conquests so far and 
 wide, Isaiah x. 5, 6, 7. O Assyria)!, the rod of mine 
 anger, &c. / will give him my commission, and send 
 him against the Jews, my favourite people; because 
 they are degenerated into an hypocritical nation, and 
 he shall execute my orders. : ' Howbeit, he meaneth 
 not so; it is far from his heart to obey my will in this 
 expedition; but his only design is to aggrandize him- 
 self, and to destroy and cut off nations not a i\'\v.^ 
 And when this instrument of the divine vengeance 
 arrogates to himself the honour of his own successes, 
 with what just insult and disdain docs the King of
 
 Serm. 16. the Joy of our World. 363 
 
 kings speak of him! ver. 12 15. Shall the axe boast 
 itself against him that hexveth therewith ? As if the 
 rod should shake itself against him that lifteth it up, 
 &c. The design of God in these chastisements is to 
 purge away the iniquity of his people ; and this is all 
 the fruit of them to take away their sin ; and when 
 this gracious design is answered, they shall be removed; 
 and the rod of the xvicked shall not always lie upon the 
 lot of the righteous. Psalm exxv. 3. Now what cause 
 of universal joy is this, that One infinitely wise sits at 
 the helm, and can steer the feeble vessel of his church 
 through all the outrageous storms of this unfriendly 
 climate and tempestuous ocean ! He may seem at times 
 to lie asleep, but in the article of extreme danger he 
 Will awake and stiil the winds and the sea with his 
 sovereign mandate, Peace, be still. Men may form 
 deep and politic schemes, and purpose their accom- 
 plishment in defiance of Heaven, but God disappoint tth 
 the devices of the crafty, so that their hands cannot 
 perform their enterprise. He taketh the wise in their 
 on n craftiness, and the counsel of the froward is car" 
 ried heaalong. Job v. 12, 13. * This was exemplified in 
 the case of Ahithophel, 1 Sam. xvii. 14. The hearts of 
 men, yea of kings, are in the hand of the Lord, and 
 he turneth them whithersoever he will. Prov. xxi. 1. 
 (see also chap. xvi. 1. 9, and xix. 21.) And how joy- 
 ful a thought this, that we arc not at the arbitrary 
 disposal ot our fellow-mortals, and that affairs are not 
 managed according to their capricious pleasure, but 
 that our God is in the heaven, and doth whatsoever he 
 pleaseth! Psalm ex v. 3. 
 
 Again, the church may be endangered by intestine 
 divisions. and offences. The professors of religion may 
 stumble and fall, and so wound the hearts of the 
 friends of /ion, and give matter of triumph and insult 
 to its enemies. Some may apostatize, and return like 
 the dog to his vomit. A general lukewarmness may 
 diffuse itself through the church, and even those who 
 retain their integrity in the main may feel the conta- 
 gion, iuvisions and animosities may be inflamed, 
 mutual iovc may be extinguished, and a spirit of dis- 
 * i ni i>m eeed in its place. A most melancholy case
 
 S64 The Divine Government Serm. 16". 
 
 this, and too much like our own ; and our hearts sink 
 at times beneath the burden. But the Lord reigneth : 
 let the earth be glad- He can reduce this confusion 
 into order, and make the wrath of man to praise him, 
 and restrain the remainder of it. Psalm lxxvi. 10. It 
 is the peculiarity of divine wisdom to educe good out 
 of evil, and let us rejoice in it. God is supreme, and 
 therefore can controul all the wicked passions of the 
 mind. He has the residue of the spirit, and can re- 
 kindle the languishing flame of devotion. And O let 
 us apply to him with the most vigorous and unwearied 
 importunity for so necessary a blessing ! 
 
 Again, we are exposed to numberless accidental and 
 unforeseen dangers, which we cannot prevent nor en- 
 counter. Sickness and death may proceed from a 
 thousand unsuspected causes. Our friends, our estates, 
 and in short, all our earthly enjoyments may be torn 
 from us by a variety of accidents. We walk, as it were, 
 in the dark, and may tread on remediless dangers ere 
 we are aware. But the Lord reigneth ! let the earth 
 be glad ! Contingent events are at his disposal, and 
 necessity at his controul. The smallest things are not 
 beneath the notice of his providence, and the greatest 
 are not above it. Diseases and misfortunes that seem 
 to happen by chance, are commissioned by the Lord 
 of all ; and they that result evidently from natural 
 causes are sent by his almighty will. He says to one, 
 go, and it goeth; and to another come, and it cometh: 
 he orders the devastations that are made by the most 
 outrageous elements. If flames lay our houses in ashes, 
 they are kindled by his breath. If hurricanes sweep 
 through our land, and carry desolation along with 
 them, they perform his will, and can do nothing be- 
 yond it : his hand hurls the thunder, and directs it 
 where to strike. An arrow or a bullet-shot at a ven- 
 ture in the heat of battle, is carried to its mark by 
 divine direction. How wretched a world would this 
 be were it not under the wise management of divine 
 Providence ! If chance or blind fate were its rulers, 
 what desolations would crowd upon us every moment ! 
 we should soon be crushed in the ruins of a fallen 
 world. Every wind that blows might blast us with
 
 Sf.rm. 16. the Joy of our World. 365 
 
 death, and fire and water would mingle in a blended 
 chaos, and bury us in their destruction. But so ex- 
 tensive is the care of Providence, that even the spar- 
 rows may find safety in it ; and we cannot lose so 
 much as an hair of our heads without its permission. 
 Matt. x. 29, 30, 31. And how much more then are 
 our persons and our affairs of importance under its 
 guardianship and direction ! 
 
 Again, we are in perpetual danger from the malig- 
 nant agency of infernal spirits, who watch all oppor- 
 tunities to ruin the souls, bodies, and estates of men. 
 These subtle spirits can inject insnaring thoughts into 
 our minds, and present such images to the fancy as 
 may allure the soul to sin. This is repeatedly asserted 
 in scripture, and attested by the melancholy experience 
 of multitudes in all ages. That they have power also 
 in the material world to raise storms and tempests, and 
 to ruin mens' estates, and inflict diseases on their bodies, 
 is plain from the case of Job, and many in our Saviour's 
 time, and from Satan's being called the prince of the 
 pozver of the air ; and his associates spiritual wicked- 
 nesses in high places. And what horrid devastations 
 would these powerful and malicious beings spread 
 through the world if they were not under the controul 
 of divine Providence ! They would perpetually haunt 
 our minds with insnaring or terrifying images, would 
 meet us with temptations at every turn, and lead us 
 willing captives to hell. They would also strip us 
 entirely of all temporal enjoyments, torture our bodies 
 with grievous pains, or moulder them into dust with 
 consuming and loathsome diseases. But the Lord 
 reigneth ! let the earth, be glad. He keeps the infer- 
 nal lions in chains, and restrains their rage- He sees 
 all their subtle plots and machinations against his 
 feeble sheep, and baffles them all. " lie will not suffer 
 his people to be tempted above what they are able to 
 bear; but with the temptation will also make a way 
 to escape."* 1 Cor. x. 12. And when he suffers them to 
 be buflctted, his grace shall be sufficient for them, &c. 
 2 Cor. xii. 7, 9- lie hath also (as Satan himself con- 
 fessed with regard to Job) made an hedge about us, 
 about our houses, and about all that we have on every
 
 366 Tlie Divine Government Serm. \6. 
 
 side, Job i. 10. : and hence we live and enjoy the 
 blessings of life. What cause of grateful joy is this ! 
 Who would not rather die than live in a world un 
 governed by divine Providence ! This earth would 
 soon be turned into a hell, if the infernal armies were 
 let loose upon it. 
 
 III. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of grace 1 
 41 let the earth rejoice, and the multitude of the isles 
 be glad." 
 
 It is the mediatorial government of the Messiah 
 which the Psalmist had more immediately in view ; and 
 this is the principal cause of joy to the earth and its 
 guilty inhabitants. This is a kind of government pe- 
 culiar to the human race : the upright angels do not 
 need it, and the fallen angels are not favoured with it. 
 This is invested in the person of Immanuel, " who is 
 made head over all things to his church, Ephes. i. 22. ; 
 to whom all power in heaven and earth is given. Mat. 
 xi. 27. and xxviii. 18. This is the kingdom described 
 in such august language in Dan. ii. ver. 44, 45. and vii. 
 14. Luke i. 32, 33. Hence that Jesus who was mocked 
 with a crown of thorns, and condemned as a criminal 
 at Pilate's bar, wears on his vesture and on his thigh 
 this majestic inscription, King of kings, and Lord of 
 lords. Rev. xix. 16\ And behold I bring you glad 
 tidings; this kingdom of God is come unto you, and 
 you are called to become its subjects, and share in its 
 blessings. Wherever the gospel is preached, there 
 Jehovah sits upon a mercy seat in majesty tempered 
 with condescending grace. From thence he invites 
 rebels that had rejected his government to return to 
 their allegiance, and passes an act of grace upon all that 
 comply \s ith the invitation. To his throne of grace he 
 invites all to come, and offers them the richest blessings. 
 From thence lie publishes peace on earth, and good-will 
 towards men. From thence he offers pardon to all 
 that will submit to his government, and renounce their 
 sins, those weapons of rebellion. From thence he distri- 
 butes the influences of his Spirit to subdue obstinate 
 hearts into cheerful submission, to support his subjects 
 under every burden, and furnish them with strength 
 for the spiritual warfare, He subdues their rebellious
 
 Serm. 16. the Joy of our World. 367 
 
 corruptions, animates their languishing graces, and 
 protects them from their spiritual enemies*. He enacts 
 laws for the regulation of his church, appoints ordi- 
 nances for her edification, and qualifies ministers to 
 dispense them. He hath ascended up on high; he hath 
 received gifts for men ; and these he hath distributed, 
 and given some, prophets; and some, apostles; and 
 some, evangelists ; and some, pastors and teachers ; for 
 the perfecting of the saints, for the icork of the minis- 
 try, for the edifying of the body of Christ. Ephes. iv. 
 8, 11, 12. And it is by virtue of authority derived 
 from him that his ministers now officiate, and you 
 receive his ordinances at their hands. Now how happy 
 are we, that we live under the mediatorial administra- 
 tion ! under the empire of grace ! Let the earth re- 
 joice ; let the multitude of the isles be glad upon this 
 account. And let us pray that all nations may become 
 the willing subjects of our gracious sovereign. If this 
 administration of grace had not been erected, in what 
 a miserable situation should we have been ! guilty, 
 miserable, and hopeless ! Let us rejoice that the King 
 of heaven, from whom we had revolted, has not suf- 
 fered us to perish without remedy in our unnatural 
 rebellion, but holds out the sceptre of his grace to us, 
 that we may touch it and live. 
 
 IV. And lastly, the Lord will reign ere long upon a 
 throne of universal judgment conspicuous to the as- 
 sembled universe, let the earth therefore rejoice, and 
 the multitude of the isles be glad. 
 
 Here I may borrow the inimitable language of the 
 Psalmist, Psalm xcvi. 10, 13. The Lord shall judge 
 the people righteously. Let the heavens rejoice, and 
 let the earth be glad : let the sea roar, and the fulness 
 thereof: let the fields be joyful, and all that is therein; 
 then shall all the trees of the zoood rejoice bejore the 
 Lord, for he comcth! for he comet h to judge the earth. 
 He shall judge the world with righteousness and the 
 people with his truth." This will indeed be a day of 
 insupportable terror to his enemies. He v. vi. 15, 16. ; 
 
 * See his reign most beautifully described under the type of Solomon: 
 r# aim lx&ii.
 
 36*8 The Divine Government Serm. 16\ 
 
 but, on many accounts, it will prove a day of joy and 
 triumph. 
 
 This day will unfold all the mysteries of divine 
 Providence, which are now unsearchable. There are 
 many dispensations now for which we cannot account. 
 Many blessings are bestowed, many calamities fall, and 
 many events happen, of which mortals cannot seethe 
 reason. Prosperity is the lot of some who seem the 
 peculiar objects of divine vengeance; and many groan 
 under afflictions who seem more proper objects of pro- 
 vidential beneficence. We are often led into ways, the 
 end of which we cannot see, and are bewildered in 
 various perplexities about the designs of divine Pro- 
 vidence towards us. Hence also impiety takes occa- 
 sion to cavil at the ways of God as not equal, and to 
 censure his government as weakly administered. But 
 in that day all his ways will appear to be judgment. 
 The clouds and darkness that now surround them will 
 vanish, and the beams of wisdom, goodness, and jus- 
 tice, will shine illustrious before the whole universe, 
 and every creature shall join the plaudit, He hath done 
 all things well ! Now we can at best but see a few 
 links in the chain of providence, but then we shall see 
 it all entire and complete; then the whole system will 
 be exposed to view at once, which will discover the 
 strange symmetry, connections, dependences, and refe- 
 rences of all the parts, without which we can no more 
 judge of the excellency of the procedure than a rustic 
 could tell the use of the several parts of a watch, if he 
 saw them scattered in various places. Let the earth 
 therefore be glad in expectation of this glorious dis- 
 covery. 
 
 Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the pre- 
 sent unequal distributions of Providence will be for 
 ever adjusted, and regulated according to the strictest 
 justice. This is not the place or season for retribution, 
 and therefore we need not be surprised that the bless- 
 ings and calamities of this life are not disposed accord- 
 ing to mens real characters ; but then every man shall 
 be dealt with according to his works. Oppressed in- 
 nocence will be redressed, and insolence for ever mor-
 
 Sf.rm. 16. the Joy of our JForld. 369 
 
 titled : calumny will be confuted, and flattery exposed : 
 Lazarus shall be comforted, and Dives tormented: im- 
 pious kings shall be driven into the infernal pit, while 
 pious beggars shall be advanced to the heights of hap- 
 piness. In short, all matters will then beset right, and 
 therefore let the earth rejoice. 
 
 Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the 
 righteous shall be completely delivered from all sin and 
 sorrow, and advanced to the perfection of heavenly 
 happiness. Then they shall enter upon the full fruition 
 of that bliss, which is now the object of all their 
 anxious hopes and earnest labours. 
 
 But we must change the scene into tragedy, and 
 take a view of trembling criminals hearing their dread- 
 fill doom, and sinking to Hell with horrible anguish. 
 And must the earth rejoice in this too ? Yes, but with 
 a solemn tremendous joy. Even the condemnation and 
 everlasting misery of these is right and just, is amiable 
 and glorious; and God, angels, and saints, will at the 
 great day rejoice in it. The awful grandeur of justice 
 will be illustrated in it; and this is matter of joy. The 
 punishment of irreclaimable impenitents will be an 
 effectual warning to all reasonable beings, and to all 
 future creations, as has been observed; and by it they 
 will be deterred from disobedience; and this is the 
 cause of iov. These criminals will then be bevond 
 repentance and reformation, and therefore it is impos- 
 sible in the nature of things they should be happy; 
 and why then should Heaven be encumbered with 
 them ? Is it not cause of joy that they should be 
 confined in prison who have made themselves unfit for 
 society? In the present state sinners are objects of 
 our compassion and sorrow, and the whole creation 
 mourns for them. Rom. viii. 2. But God will then 
 rejoice in their ruin, and laugh at their calamity. 
 Prov. i. 26.; and all dutiful creatures will join in 
 his joy. 
 
 Thus you sec "that the Lord reigneth. And who, 
 poor feeble saints, who is this that sustains this univer- 
 sal government, and rules the whole creation according 
 to his pleasure ? It is your Father, your Saviour, your 
 
 V01. I. Bb
 
 $70 The Divine Government Seum. 16. 
 
 Friend! It is he that entertains a tenderer regard 
 for you than ever glowed in an human breast. And 
 can you be so foolish as to regard the surmises of 
 Unbelief? Can you force yourselves to tear that he 
 will ever leave or forsake you ? Can you suspect that he 
 will suffer you to fall an helpless prey to your enemies? 
 No, your Lord reigneth, therefore rejoice. Rejoice in 
 the Lord ahvay ; and again I say rejoice. While he 
 keeps the throne of the universe, you shall be safe 
 and happy. Your Father is greater than all, and none 
 can pluck you out of his hands. Remember, he sits 
 upon a throne of grace, therefore come to him with 
 boldness. You may smile at calamity and confusion, 
 and rejoice amid the ruins of the world : you may 
 borrow the language of David, Psalm xlvi. or of 
 Habbakuk, chap. iii. ver. 17, 18. Remember also, 
 that as he is a King he demands your cheerful obedi- 
 ence, and therefore make his service the business of 
 your life. 
 
 And, unhappy sinners ! let me ask you, Who is this 
 that reigns King of the universe ? Why, it is he 
 whom you have rejected from being King over you ; 
 it is he against whom you have rebelled, and who is 
 therefore your just enemy. And are you able to make 
 good your cause against him who has universal nature 
 at his nod? How dreadful is your situation! That 
 which may make the earth rejoice, may make you 
 fear and tremble. The Lord reigneth, let sinners 
 tremble. You must fall before him, if you will not 
 cheerfully submit to his government. Let me there* 
 fore renew the usual neglected declaration, " He sits 
 upon a throne of grace." Let me once more in his 
 name proclaim reconciliation ! reconciliation ' in your 
 ears, and invite you to return to your allegiance. 
 Lay down your arms, forsake your sins. Hasten, 
 hasten to him. The sword of his justice now hangs 
 over your heads while I am managing the treaty with 
 you; and therefore delay not. Yield! yield, or 
 surrender, or perish ; for you have no other alterna- 
 tive. Submit, and you may join the general j- 
 his government. You upon earth, and devils 
 damned ghosts in hell, are the only beings that
 
 Serm. 16. the Joy of our World. 371 
 
 sorry for it; but upon your submission your sorrow 
 shall be turned into joy, and you shall exult when 
 the Lord of all comes to judge the world with right- 
 eousness, and the people with his truth. Psalm xcvi. 
 13. 
 
 BbS
 
 SEMMON XVII. 
 The Name of God proclaimed by himself. 
 
 Exod. xxxiii. 18, 19- 
 
 And he said, I beseech thee, shew me thy glory. And he said, I 
 trill make all my goodness pass before thee, and I trill proclaim 
 the name of the Lord before thee 
 
 WITH 
 
 Chap, xxxiv. 6, 7. 
 
 And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed, the Lord, 
 the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abun- 
 dant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy for thousands, for- 
 giving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no 
 means dear the guilty. 
 
 IT is a very natural and proper inquiry for a creature, 
 " Where is God my Maker?" And an heart that 
 loves him must long to know more of him, and is ever 
 .ready to join with Moses in his petition, Shczv me, I 
 pray thee, thy glory, or, " Reveal thyself to me." 
 That thou art, I infer from my own existenee, and 
 from thy numerous works all around me ; and that 
 thou art glorious, I learn from the display of thy 
 perfections in thy vast creation, and in the government 
 of the world thou hast made. But, alas ! how small a 
 portion of God is known in the earth? How faintly 
 does thy glory shine in the feehle eyes of mortals ? 
 My knowledge of things in the present state of flesh 
 and hlood depends in a great measure upon the senses; 
 but God is a spirit invisible to eyes of flesh, and im- 
 perceptible through the gross medium of sensation. 
 How and when shall I know thee as thou art, thou 
 great, thou dear unknown? In what a strange situa- 
 tion am I '. I am surrounded with thy omnipresence, yet
 
 Slrm. 17. God's Name proclaimed by himself. 373 
 
 I cannot perceive thee : thou art as. near me as I am to 
 myself; '* thou knowest my rising up and my sitting 
 down ; thou understandest my thoughts afar off; thou 
 penetratest my very essence, and knowest me altoge- 
 ther. Psalm cxxxix. 2, &c." But tome thou dwellest 
 in impervious darkness, or, which is the same, in light 
 inaccessible. O that I knew where I might find him ! 
 Behold I go forward, bat he is not there ; and back- 
 ward, but I cannot perceive him : on the left hand, 
 where he doth work, bat I cannot behold him : he hideth 
 himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him. Job. 
 xxiii. 3, 8, 9. I see his perfections beaming upon me 
 from ail his works, and his providence ever active 
 ruling the vast universe, and diffusing life, motion, and 
 vigour through the whole: the virtue of his wisdom, 
 power, and goodness, 
 
 Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze; 
 Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; 
 Lives in all life, extends through all extent ; 
 Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; 
 Inspires our soul, informs our vital part. Pope. 
 
 But where is the great Agent himself? These are his 
 works, and they are glorious; " in wisdom has he 
 made them all," but where is the divine Artificer? 
 From these displays of his glory, which strike my sen- 
 ses, 1 derive some ideas of him; but O ! how faint and 
 glimmering! how unlike to the all-perfect Archetype 
 and Original ! I have also heard of him by the hearing 
 of the ear: I read his own descriptions of himself in 
 his word; I contemplate the representations he has 
 given of himself in his ordinances; and these are truly 
 glorious, bat they are adapted to the dark and grove- 
 ling minds of mortals in this obscure region, and fall 
 infinitely short of the original glory. I can think of 
 him ; 1 can love him ; 1 can converse and carry on a 
 .spiritual intercourse with him; I feci him working in 
 my heart ; I receive sensible communications of love 
 and grace from him; I dwell at times with unknown 
 delight in the contemplation of his glory, and am 
 transported with the survey: but, alas! I cannot fully 
 
 Bb 3
 
 374 The Name of God Serm. 17. 
 
 know him; I Cannot dive deep into this mystery of 
 glory : my senses cannot perceive him; and my intel- 
 lectual powers in the present state are not qualified to 
 converse with spiritual objects, and form a full ac- 
 quaintance with them. O! if it would please my God 
 to shew me his glory in its full lustre : O that he 
 would reveal himself to me so as that my senses may 
 assist my mind ; if such a manner of revelation be pos- 
 sible ! 
 
 Such thoughts as these may naturally rise in our 
 minds; and probably some such thoughts possessed the 
 mind of Moses, and were the occasion of his request, 
 / beseech thee skew me thy glory. 
 
 These chapters whence we have taken our subject of 
 discourse, present us with transactions that must seem 
 very strange and incredible to a mind that knows 
 nothing of communion with the Father of Spirits, and 
 that is furnished only with modern ideas. 
 
 Here is, not an angel, but a man; not a creature 
 only but a sinner, a sinner once as depraved as our- 
 selves, in intimate audience with the Deity. Jehovah 
 speaks to him face to face, as a man speakcth to his 
 friend. Moses uses his interest in favour of a rebellious 
 people, and it was so great that he prevailed: nay, to 
 shew the force of his intercessions, and to give him 
 an encouragement to use them, God condescends to 
 represent himself as restrained by this importunate 
 petitioner, and unable to punish the ungrateful Israel- 
 ites, while Moses pleaded for them, Let me alone, says 
 he, that my wrath may xvax hot against this people, 
 that I may consume them. Exod. xxxii. 10. Moses 
 urges petition upon petition ; and he obtains blessing 
 upon blessing, as though God could deny nothing 
 to such a favourite. He first deprecates the divine 
 wrath, that it might not immediately break out upon 
 the Israelites, and cut them off, verses 1 1 -J 4. When 
 he has gained this point, he advances farther, and 
 pleads that God would be their Conductor through 
 the wilderness, as he had been till that- time, and lead 
 them into the promised land. In this article God 
 seems to put him oft, and to revolve the work of con- 
 ducting them upon himself; but Moses, sensible that
 
 Srm. 17. proclaimed by himself . 375 
 
 he was not equal to it, insists upon the request, and 
 with a sacred dexterity urges the divine promises to 
 enforce it. Jehovah at length appears, as it were, 
 partly prevailed upon, and promises to send his angel 
 before him as his guide. Chap, xxxii. 34. and xxxiii. 
 2. But alas ! an angel cannot fill up his place; and 
 Moses renews his petition to the Lord, and humbly 
 tells him that he had rather stay, or even die where 
 they were in the wilderness, than go up to the promised 
 land without him. If thy presence go not with me, 
 carry us not up hence, chap, xxxiii. \5.: "alas! the 
 company of an angel and the possession of a land 
 flowing with milk and honey will not satisfy us with- 
 out thyself." His prayers prevail for this blessing also, 
 and Jehovah will not deny him any thing. O the sur- 
 prising prevalency of faith ! O the erricacy of the 
 fervent prayer of a righteous man ! 
 
 And now, when his people are restored unto the 
 divine favour, and God has engaged to go with them, 
 has Moses any thing more to ask? Yes, he found h 
 had indeed great interest with God, and O ! he loved 
 him, and longed, and languished for a clearer know- 
 ledge of him : he found that after all his friendly inter- 
 views and conferences he knew but little of his glory; 
 and now, thought he, it is a proper time to put in a 
 petition for this manifestation; who knows but it may 
 be granted ! Accordingly he prays with a mixture of 
 filial boldness and trembling modesty, / beseech thee, 
 shew me thy glory : that is to say, " Now I am in 
 converse with thee, I perceive thou art the most glori- 
 ous of all beings; but it is but little of thy glory I as 
 yet know. O ! is it possible for a guilty mortal to 
 receive clearer discoveries of it ? If so, 1 pray thee 
 favour me with a more full and bright view." This 
 petition is also granted, and the Lord promises him, / 
 will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will 
 proclaim the Name of the Lord before thee. 
 
 That you may the better understand this strange 
 history, I would have you observe a few things : 
 
 1st. In the earlier ages of the world it Mas a very 
 common thing for Gud to assume some visible form. 
 
 13 b 4
 
 576* The Name of God Sf.hm. 17. 
 
 and in it to converse freely with his servants. Of this 
 you frequently read in the history of the patriarchs, 
 particularly of Adam, Abraham, Jacob. &c. It is 
 also a tradition almost universally received in all ages, 
 and among all nations, that God has sometimes appear- 
 ed in a sensible form to mortals. You can handy meet 
 with one heathen writer but what you will find in him 
 some traces of this tradition. Upon this, in particular, 
 are founded tbe many extravagant stories of the poets 
 concerning the appearances of their gods. Had there 
 been no original truth in some appearances of the true 
 God to men, there would have been no colour for such 
 fables; for they would have evidently appeared ground- 
 less and unnatural to every reader. This tradition 
 therefore was no doubt originally derived from the 
 appearances of the Deity in a corporeal form in early 
 ages*. Sometimes God assumed an human shape, and 
 appeared as a man. Thus he appeared to Abraham, in 
 company with two angels. Gen. xviii. : and that good 
 patriarch entertained them with food as travellers; yet 
 OJre of them is repeatedly stiled the Lord, or Jehovah, 
 the incommunicable name of God; see verses 13, c 20, 
 22, 26, &c, and speaks in a language proper to him 
 only, ver. 14, 21, &c. Sometimes he appeared as a 
 visible brightness, or a body of light, or in some other 
 sensible form of majesty and glory. Thus he was seen 
 by Moses in the bush as a burning fire; thus he attended 
 the Israelites through the wilderness, in the symbol of 
 fire by night, and a cloud by day ; and thus he often 
 appeared in the tabernacle, and at the dedication of 
 Solomon's temple, in some sensible form of glorious 
 brightness, which the Jews called the Schechinah ; and 
 looked upon as a certain symbol of the divine presence, 
 
 * These appearances were probably made in the person of the Son, 
 and might be intended as a prelude or earnest of his assuming human 
 nature, in the fulness of time, and his dwelling among mortals. He 
 was the immediate Agent in the creation of the world ; and the Father 
 devolved upon him the whole ceconomy of Providence from the begin- 
 ning ; and hence he had frequent occasions to appear on some grand de- 
 sign. It cannot seem incredible that he should thus assume some visible 
 form, to such as believe that God was at length really manifested in the 
 jiesh ; for this temporary apparent incarnation cannot be deemed mwe 
 tjtran^e than his really being mudejlesh, and dwelling i:?n>jnt> us.
 
 S l r m . 1 7 . p roclaim ed by himself, S77 
 
 l .\liy, You are to observe that God, who is a spirit, 
 cannot be perceived by the senses ; nor were these sen- 
 sible forms intended to represent the divine essence, 
 which is wholly immaterial. You can no more see 
 
 God than you can see your own soul; and a bodily 
 form can no more represent his nature than shape or 
 colour can represent a thought, or the affection of 
 love. Yet, 
 
 . Sdly, It must be allowed that majestic and glorious 
 emblems, or representations of God exhibited to the 
 senses, may help to raise our ideas of him. When the 
 senses and the imagination assist the power of pure 
 understanding, its ideas are more lively and impressive: 
 and though no sensible representations can bear any 
 strict resemblance to the divine nature, yet they may 
 strike our minds deeply, and fill them with images of 
 grandeur and majesty. When I see a magnificent 
 palace, it naturally tends to give me a great idea of 
 the owner or builder. The retinue and pomp of kings, 
 their glittering crowns, sceptres, and other regalia, 
 tend to inspire us with ideas of majesty. In like man- 
 ner, those sensible representations of Deity, especially 
 when attended with some rational descriptions of the 
 divine nature, may help us to form higher conceptions 
 of the glory of God: and the want of such represen- 
 tations may occasion less reverence and awe. For in- 
 stance, had the description of the Deity, the Lord God 
 vitrei] ul and gracious, &c. been only suggested to the 
 mind of Moses as an object of calm contemplation, it 
 would not have struck him with such profound reve- 
 rence, nor given him such clear or impressive ideas as 
 when it was proclaimed with a loud, majestic voice, 
 and attended with a visible glory too bright for mortal 
 eyes. Human nature is of such a make, that it cannot 
 but be affected with things of this nature. 
 
 Consider the matter well in the light which I have 
 set it, and you may see something of the propriety and 
 good tendency of these appearances, and at the same 
 time guard yourselves against mistakes. Let me now 
 give you what I apprehend the true history of this 
 remarkable and illustrious appearance of God to Moses.
 
 578 The Name of God Seum. 17. 
 
 Moses had enjoyed frequent interviews with God, 
 and seen many symbols of his presence and represen- 
 tations of his glory ; but he still finds his knowledge 
 of him very defective, and apprehends that God might 
 give him some representation of his glory more strik- 
 ing and illustrious than any he had seen. Therefore, 
 finding that now he was in great favour with him, he 
 humbly moves this petition, / beseech thee shew me thy 
 glory ;" " give me some more full and majestic repre- 
 sentation of thy glory than I have hitherto seen." 
 The Lord answers him, " I will cause all my good- 
 ness," that is, a glorious, visible representation of my 
 goodness, which is " my glory, to pass before thee," 
 which may strike thy senses, and make them the. me- 
 dium of conveying to thy mind more illustrious and 
 majestic ideas of my glory. And as no sensible forms 
 can fully represent the spiritual essence and perfections 
 of my nature, while I cause a visible representation of 
 my glory to pass before thee, I will at the same time 
 proclaim the name of the Lord*, and describe some of 
 the principal perfections which constitute my glory and 
 goodness. But so bright will be the lustre of that 
 form which I shall assume, that thou art not able to 
 see my face, or the most splendid part of the represen- 
 tation; the glory is too bright to be beheld by any 
 mortal, ver. 20. But there is a place in a rock where 
 thou mayest wait, and I will cast darkness over it till 
 the brightest part of the form of glory in which I 
 shall appear is passed by, and then I will open a me- 
 dium of light, and thou shalt see my back parts ; that 
 is, those parts of the representation which are less 
 illustrious, and which pass by last: the glory of 
 these thou shalt be enabled to bear, but my face shall 
 not be seen." Ver. 223. 
 
 Thus God condescended to promise; and when mat- 
 ters were duly prepared, he performs his engagement. 
 
 * The LXX render the passage, / will call by my name, the Lord, 
 before tliee. And this is the most literal translation of the Hebrew : 
 they are rendered, Inclamabo nominatim Jehova ante faciem tuam, by 
 Junius and Tremellius. According to this version the sense seems to be, 
 " When the symbol of my glory is passing by, I will give thee notice, 
 and call by my name the Lord, that I may not pass by unobserved."
 
 Serm. 17. proclaimed by himself. 379 
 
 The Lord assumed a visible form of glory, and passed 
 by before him, and proclaimed his name, which includes 
 his perfections. Things a^e known by their names, 
 and (iod is known by his attributes, therefore his name 
 includes his attributes. The proclamation ran in this 
 august style, The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and 
 gracious, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and 
 truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, 
 transgression, and sin. Moses was struck with reve- 
 rence and admiration, and bowed and worshipped. 
 
 My present design is to explain the several names 
 and perfections here ascribed to God, and shew that 
 they all concur to constitute his goodness. For you 
 must observe this is the connection. Moses prays for 
 a view of God's glory, God promises him a view of 
 his goodness, which intimates that his goodness is his 
 glory; and when he describes his goodness, what is the 
 description? It is the Lord, the Lord God, merciful 
 and gracious, long-suffering, abundant in goodness and 
 truth, keeping * mercy for thousands, forgiving ini- 
 quity, transgression, and sin. That these attributes 
 belong to his goodness we easily and naturally conceive; 
 but what shall we tjiink of his punitive justice, that 
 awful and tremendous attribute, the object of terror 
 and aversion to sinners? Is that a part of his good- 
 ness too? Yes, when God causes his goodness to pass 
 before Moses, he proclaims as one part of it, that he 
 will by no means clear the guilty; and that he visits 
 the iniquities of the fathers upon the children to the 
 third and fourth generation. This awful attribute is 
 an important part of his goodness, and without it he 
 could not be good, amiable, or glorious. 
 
 I am now about to enter upon a subject the most 
 sublime, august, and important, that can come within 
 the compas-> of human or angelic minds, the name and 
 perfections of the infinite and ever-glorious God. I 
 attempt it with trembling and reverence, and I foresee 
 
 * The Hebrews observe, that the first letter of the word translated 
 herfiin^, is much larger than usual ; which shews that .1 particular em- 
 phasis is to - e laid upon it ; as if he .shi.ald say, " I most strictly and 
 richly keep mercy for thousands 3 the treasure is iairnciirc, aad can never 
 be exhausted."
 
 580 The Name of God Seiim. 17. 
 
 I shall finish it with shame and confusion : for zvho bij 
 searching can find out God? who can find out the Al- 
 mighty unto perfection ? Job. xi. 7. The question of 
 Agar mortifies the pride of human knowledge; What 
 is his name, or what is his son's name, if thou canst 
 tell? Pro v. xxx. 4. Such knowledge is too zconderful 
 for me ; it is high, I cannot attain unto it. Psalm 
 cxxxix. 6. It is as high as Heaven, what can I know? 
 deeper than hell, what can I do ? the measure thereof 
 is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea. 
 Job xi. 8, 9. Lend me your skill, ye angels, who have 
 seen his face without intermission from the first mo- 
 ment of your happy existence; or ye saints above, that 
 see him as he is, and know even as you are knozvn, in- 
 spire me with your exalted ideas, and teach me your 
 celestial language, while I attempt to bring Heaven 
 down to earth, and reveal its glories to the e\*es of 
 mortals. In vain I ask; their knowledge is incommu- 
 nicable to the inhabitants of flesh, and none but im- 
 mortals can learn the language of immortality. But 
 why do I ask of them ? O thou Father of angels and 
 of men, who canst perfect thy praise even out of the 
 mouths of babes and sucklings, and who canst open all 
 the avenues of knowledge and pour thy glory upon 
 created minds, do thou shine into my heart, to give 
 me the light of the knowledge of thy glory: I beseech 
 thee shezv me thy glory ; cause it to shine upon my 
 understanding, while I try to display it to thy people, 
 that they may behold, adore, and love. 
 
 As to you, my brethren, I solicit your most solemn 
 and reverential attention, while I would lead you into 
 the knowledge of the Lord your Maker. One would 
 think a kind of filial curiosity would inspire you with 
 eager desires to be acquainted with your divine Parent 
 and original. You would not be willing to worship 
 you know not what, or, with the Athenians, adore an 
 unknown God. Do you not long to know the greatest 
 and best of beings, the glimmerings of whose glory 
 shine upon you from heaven and earth ? Would you 
 not know him in whose presence you hope to dwell 
 and be happy for ever and ever ? Come then, be all 
 awe and attention, while I proclaim to you his name
 
 S k r m . 1 7- proclaimed by h imself. 3 S 1 
 
 and perfections, The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and 
 gracious, long-ntffering, and abundant in goodness and 
 truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, 
 transgression, and sin. 
 
 We may be sure God has assumed to himself such 
 names as are best adapted to describe his nature, as fur 
 as mortal language can reach. And every thing be- 
 longing to him is so dear and important, that his very 
 name deserves a particular consideration. This is not 
 to make empty criticisms upon an arbitrary, unmean- 
 ing sound, but to derive useful knowledge from a word 
 of the greatest emphasis and significancy. 
 
 The first name, in the order of the text, and in its 
 own dignity, is, the Lord, or Jehovah ; a name here 
 twice repeated, to shew its importance, The Lord, the 
 Lord, or Jehovah, Jehovah. This is a name peculiar 
 to God, and incommunicable to the most exalted 
 creature. The apostle tells us, There are Gods many, 
 and Lords many. I Cor. viii. 3. Magistrates in par- 
 ticular are so called, because their authority is some 
 shadow of the divine authority. But the name Jeho- 
 vah, which is rendered Lord in my text, and in ali 
 those places in the Bible where it is written in capitals. 
 I say, this name Jehovah is appropriated to the Su- 
 preme Being, and never applied to any other. lie 
 claims it to himself as his peculiar glory. Thus in 
 Psalm lxxxiii. ver. 18. Thou, zvhose name alone h 
 Jehovah, art the Most High over all the earth. And 
 in Isaiah xlii. ver. 8. / am the Lord, or (as it is in 
 the original) Jehovah ; that is my name, my proper 
 incommunicable name, and my glory will f not give to 
 another ; that is, I will not allow another to -hare with 
 me iu the glory of wearing this name. Thus also in 
 Amos vi. ver. lo. Lo, he that formeth the mountains, 
 and createth the wind, that declareth lo man what is in 
 his thoughts, .xc. the Lord, the Gcd of hosts, is his 
 name, his distinguishing, appropriated name. There 
 must therefore be something peculiarly sacred and sig- 
 nificant in this name, since it is thus incommunicable 
 appropriated to the only one God. 
 
 The Jews had such a prodigious veneration for this 
 name as amounted to a superstitious excels. They cull
 
 382 The Name of God Serm. 17. 
 
 it " That name," by way of distinction, " The great 
 name, the glorious name, the appropriated name, the 
 unutterable name, the expounded name*,"' because 
 they never pronounced it, except in one instance, 
 which I shall mention presently, but always expounded 
 it by some other : thus when the name Jehovan occur- 
 ed in the Old Testament, they always read it Adonai, 
 or Elohim, the usual and less sacred names, which we 
 translate Lord God. It was never pronounced by the 
 Jews in reading, prayer, or the most solemu act of 
 worship, much less in common conversation, except 
 once a year, on the great day of atonement, and then 
 only by the high priest in the sanctuary, in pronoun- 
 cing the benediction; but at all other times, places, 
 and occasions, and to all other persons, the pronuncia- 
 tion was deemed unlawful. The benediction was that 
 which you read in Numbers vi. verses 24, 25, 26, 
 where the name Jehovah is thrice repeated in the 
 Hebrew, Jehovah bless thee, and keep thee: Jehovah 
 wake his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious to 
 thee : Jehovah lift up the light of his countenance upon 
 thee, and give thee peace. When this venerable name 
 was pronounced upon this occasion, we are told by 
 the Jewish rabbics, " that all the vast congregation 
 then present bowed the knee, and fell down in the 
 humblest prostration, crying out, Blessed be his gloria 
 ous name for ever and ever. They supposed this name 
 had a miraculous virtue in it, aud that by it Moses 
 and others wrought such wonders: nay, so great was 
 their superstition, that they thought it a kind of charm 
 or magical word, and that he that had it about him, 
 and knew its true pronunciation and virtue, could per- 
 form the most surprising things, and even shake 
 heaven and earth j". 
 
 * They also distinguish it by the nnme of the four letters that com- 
 posed it, jodh, he, von, he; and hence the Greeks called it tkc J'our- 
 Iviti-rp.d name. See Buxtorf. 
 
 f This nnme seems not to have been unknown among other nations. 
 Hence probably is derived the name Juris, .lore, the Latin name for the 
 supreme God And it is probably in allusion to this that Varro says, 
 " Dor.n Judaeoriuu esse Jovem." The Moors also call God Juiuh, and 
 the Mahometans Hou . which in their language signifies the same with 
 Jehovah, namely, He who is. See Univ. Hist. Vol, HI. p. 357. note t-
 
 Serm. 17. proclaimed by himself. $83 
 
 I do not mention these things with approbation, but 
 only to shew that there is something peculiarly signi- 
 ficant, important, and sacred in this name, from whence 
 the Jews took occasion for such extravagant notions: 
 and this will appear from its etymology. You know 
 it is not my usual method to carry a great quantity of 
 learned disquisition with me into the pulpit, or to 
 spend your time in trifling, pedantic criticisms upon 
 words, which may indeed have a shew of literature, 
 and amuse those who admire what they do not under- 
 stand, but can answer no valuable end in a popular 
 audience. However, at present I must take the liberty 
 of shewing you the original meaning of the name 
 Jehovah, that I may thoroughly explain my text, and 
 that you may know the import of a name that will 
 occur so often to you in reading your bibles ; for, as I 
 told you, wherever you meet with the word Lord in 
 large letters, it is always Jehovah in the original. 
 
 The name Jehovah is derived from the Hebrew verb, 
 to be; and therefore the meaning of the word Jehovah 
 is, The existent, the being, or He that is. Thus it 
 seems explained in Exodus iii. ver. 14. / am that I 
 am, or, " I am because I am;" that is, I exist, and 
 have being in and of myself without dependence upon 
 any cause ; and my existence or being is alwa} r s the 
 same, unchangeable and eternal. St. John well ex- 
 plains this name by the Who is, who zvas, and zvho is 
 to come ; or, as the passage might be rendered, " The 
 present being, the past Being, and the future Being;" 
 or, The Being that is, the Being that was, and the 
 Being that will be; that is, the perpetual, the eternal, 
 and unchangeable Being. I shall only observe farther, 
 that Jehovah is not a relative, but an absolute name: 
 there is no pronoun or relative word that is ever joined 
 with it : we can say, My Lord, our Lord, our God, 
 &c. but the Hebrews never say or write, My Jehovah, 
 our Jehovah, &c. so that this name represents him as 
 he is in himself, without any relation to his creatures, 
 as he would have been it' they bad never existed. He 
 would still have been the Being, the absolute, indepen- 
 dent existent, in which view he has nothing to do with 
 his creatures, and can sustain no relation to them.
 
 S84 The Name of God Serm. 17. 
 
 From this name, thus explained, we learn the fol- 
 lowing glorious, incommunicable perfections of God; 
 that he is self-existent and independent; that his being 
 is necessary; that he is eternal; and that he is un- 
 changeable. 
 
 While I am about to enter upon these subjects, I 
 seem to stand upon the brink of an unbounded, fathom- 
 Jess ocean, and tremble to launch into it; but, under 
 the conduct of scripture and humble reason, let us 
 make the adventure; for it is an happiness to be lost 
 and swallowed up in such an ocean of perfection. 
 
 I. The name Jehovah implies that God is ttelf-c.vi st- 
 ent and independent. I do not mean by this that he 
 produced himself) for that would be a direct contra- 
 diction, and suppose him to exist, ami not to exist at 
 the same time : but I mean that the reason and ground 
 of his existence is in his own nature, and does not at all 
 depend upon any thing besides. Being is essential to 
 him. He contains an infinite fulness of being in him- 
 self, and no other being has contributed in the least 
 towards his existence; and hence with great propriety 
 he assumes that strange name, 1 am. He is Being 
 throughout, perfectly, and universally vital; and the 
 reason of this is entirely within his own nature. 
 
 How gloriously is he distinguished in this respect 
 from all other beings, even the most illustrious and 
 powerful ! Time was, when they were nothing. An- 
 gels and archangels, men and beasts, sun, moon, and 
 stars; in short, the whole universe besides were once 
 nothing, had no being at all : and what was the reason 
 that they ever came into being ? Certainly it was not 
 in them : when they were nothing there was no reason 
 at all in them why they should ever be something; for 
 in not being, there can be no reason or ground for 
 being. The mere pleasure of God, the fiat of this 
 self-existing Jehovah, is the only reason and sole cause 
 of their existence. If it had not been for him, they 
 would have continued nothing as they were: their 
 being therefore is entirely precarious, dependent, and 
 wholly proceeds from a cause without themselves. 
 Hut Jehovah glories in an unborrowed, underived, in- 
 dependent being. Whatever he is. it is his own ; he
 
 Serm. 17. proclaimed by himself . 335 
 
 owes it only to himself. What a glorious Being is thjs ! 
 how infinitely different from and superior to the whole 
 system of creatures ! Are you not already constrained 
 to bow the knee before him, and wonder, adore, and 
 love ? But, 
 
 II. Hence it follows that his existence is necessary; 
 that is, it is impossible for him not to be. His being 
 does not depend upon any thing without him, nor does it 
 depend upon his own arbitrary will, but it is essential 
 to his nature. That he should not be is as great an 
 impossibility as that two and two should not make 
 four. It is impossible that any thing should be more 
 closely connected with any thing than being is with 
 his essence, and it is impossible any thing should be 
 more opposite to any thing than he is to non-existence. 
 Since he received his being from nothing without him- 
 self, and since the reason of Jiis existence is not derived 
 from any other, it follows, that unless he exists by the 
 necessity of his own nature, he must exist without any 
 necessity ; that is, without any reason at all, which is 
 the same as to say that nothing is the cause or ground 
 of his existence ; and what imagination can be more 
 absurd ? His being therefore must exist by an absolute, 
 independent necessity. 
 
 What a glorious Being is this ! how infinitely distant 
 from nothing, or a possibility of not being ! What an 
 unbounded fund of existence, what an immense ocean 
 of Being is here ! Alas ! what are we, what is the 
 whole universe besides in this comparison ? They are 
 nothing, less than nothing, and xaniti). Our being is 
 not only derived but arbitrary, depending entirely up- 
 on the mere pleasure of Jehovah. There was no neces- 
 sity from our nature that we should be at all; and now 
 there is no necessity that we should continue to be. If 
 we exist, it is not owing to us. " lie made us, and 
 not we ourselves ;" and if we shall continue to be for 
 ever, it is not owing to a fund of being within our- 
 selves, but to the same God who first funned us. It 
 is but lately since we sprung from nothing, and how 
 near are we still to the confines of nothing! We hang 
 over the dreadful jnilph of annihilation by a slender 
 
 n 1 
 
 thread of being sustained by the aeh-originated Jelio- 
 Vol. I. C c
 
 3B5 The Name of God Serm. 17. 
 
 vah. Remove him, take away his agency, and univer- 
 sal nature sinks into nothing at once. Take away the 
 root, and the branches wither : dry up the fountain, 
 and the streams cease. If any of you are such fools 
 as to wish in your hearts there were no God, you im- 
 precate annihilation upon the whole universe ; you wish 
 total destruction to yourself and every thing else; you 
 wish the extinction of all being. All depend upon 
 God, the uncaused cause, the only necessary Being. 
 Suffer me here to make a digression. Is this the God 
 whom the daring sons of men so much forget, dis- 
 honour, and disobey ? Are they so entirely dependent 
 upon him, and yet careless how they behave towards 
 him, careless whether they love and please him ? Do 
 they owe their being and their all entirely to him ? 
 And *are they wholly in his hand ? What then do they 
 mean by withholding their thoughts and affections 
 from him, breaking his laws, and neglecting his gos- 
 pel ? Can you find a name for such a conduct ? 
 would it not be entirely incredible did we not see it 
 with our eyes all around us ? Sinners, what mean you 
 by this conduct ? Let the infant rend the womb that 
 conceived it, or tear the breasts that cherish it ; go, 
 poison or destroy the bread that should feed you ; dry 
 up the streams that should allay your thirst ; stop the 
 breath that keeps you in life ; do these things, or do 
 any thing, but O ! do not forget, disobey, and provoke 
 the very Father of your being, to whom you owe it 
 that you are not as much nothing now as you were ten 
 thousand years ago, and on whom you depend, not 
 only for this and that mercy, but for your very being, 
 every moment of your existence, in time and eternity, 
 lie can do very well without you, but O what are you 
 without him ! a stream without a fountain, a branch 
 without a root, an effect without a cause, a mere blank, 
 a nothing. He indeed is self-sufficient and self-ex- 
 istent. It is nothing to him, as to his existence, whe- 
 ther creation exists or not. Let men and angels, and 
 every creature sink to nothing, from whence they 
 came, his being is still secure : he enjoys an unpreca- 
 rious being of his own, necessarily, unchangeably, and 
 eternally existent. Men and angels bow the knee,
 
 Serm. 17. proclaimed by himself . 387 
 
 fall prostrate and adore before this Being of beings. 
 How mean are you in his presence ! what poor, arbi- 
 trary, dependent, perishing creatures! what shadows 
 of existence! what mere nothings! And is it not fit 
 you should humbly acknowledge it ? Can there be 
 any thing more unnatural, any thing more foolish, any 
 thing more audaciously wicked, than to neglect or 
 contemn such a Being, the Being of beings, the Being 
 that includes all being? I can hardly bear up under the 
 horror of the thought. 
 
 III. The name Jehovah implies that God is eternal; 
 that is, he always was, is, and ever will be. From 
 everlasting to everlasting he is God. Psalm xc. 2. 
 This is his grand peculiar, he only hath immortality. 
 2 Tim. vi. 16. in a full and absolute sense. Men 
 and angels indeed are immortal, but it is but a kind of 
 half-eternity they enjoy. They once were nothing and 
 continued in that state through an eternal duration. 
 But as Jehovah never will have an end, so he never had 
 a beginning. This follows from his necessary self- 
 existence. If the reason of his existence be in him- 
 self, then unless he always existed he never could exist, 
 for nothing without himself could cause him to exist. 
 And if he exists by absolute necessity, he must always 
 exist, for absolute necessity is always the same, with- 
 out any relation to time or place. Therefore he always 
 was, and ever will be. 
 
 And what a wonderful Being is this ! a Bein^ un- 
 begun, and that can never have an end ! a Being pos- 
 sessed of a complete, entire eternity. Here, my bre- 
 thren, let your thoughts take wing, and fly backward 
 and forward, and see if you can trace his existence. 
 Fly back in thought about six thousand years, and all 
 nature, as far as appears to us, was a mere blank; no 
 heaven nor earth, no men nor angels. But still the 
 great Eternal lived, lived alone, sclf-suificient, and self- 
 happy. Fly forward in thought as far as the confla- 
 gration, and you will see the heavens dissolving, and 
 the earth and the things that are therein barnt ap : 
 but still Jehovah lives unchangeable, and absolutely 
 independent. Exert all the powers of number, .Ad 
 centuries to centuries, thousands to thousands, miili< 
 
 C c 2
 
 3S8 The Name of God Sermt. 17. 
 
 to millions, fly back, back, back, as far as thought can 
 possibly carry you, still Jehovah exists; nay, you are 
 even then as far from the first moment of his existence 
 as you are now, or ever can be. Take the same pros- 
 pect before you, and you will find the king eternal and 
 immortal still the same: he is then no nearer an end 
 than at the creation, or millions of ages before it. 
 
 What a glorious Being is this ! Here again, let men 
 and angels, and all the offspring of time bow the knee 
 and adore. Let them lose themselves in this ocean, 
 and spend their eternity in extatic admiration and love 
 of this eternal Jehovah. 
 
 O! what a glorious portion is he to his people! 
 Your earthly enjoyments may pass away like a shadow; 
 your friends die, yourselves must die, and heaven and 
 earth may vanish like a dream, but your God lives ! 
 he lives for ever, to give you an happiness equal to 
 your immortal duration. Therefore blessed, blessed is 
 the people, whose God is the Lord! 
 
 But O ! let sinners, let wicked men and devils trem- 
 ble before him, for how dreadful an enemy is an eternal 
 God ! He lives for ever to punish you. He lives for 
 ever to hate your sin, to resent your rebellion, and to 
 display his justice; and while lie lives you must be 
 miserable. What a dismal situation are you in, when 
 the eternal existence of Jehovah is an inexhaustible 
 fund of tenor to you ! O how have you inverted the 
 order of things, when you have made it your interest- 
 that the Fountain of being should cease to be, and 
 that with him yourselves and all other creatures should 
 vanish into nothing ! What a malignant thing is sin, 
 that makes existence a curse, and universal annihilation 
 a blessing ! What a strange region is hell, where 
 being, so sweet in itself, and the capacity of all en- 
 joyments, is become the most intolerable burden, and 
 every wish is an imprecation of universal annihilation! 
 Sinners, you have now time to consider these miseries 
 and avoid them, and will you be so senseless and fool- 
 hardv as to rush headlong into them- O ! if you were 
 but sensible what will he the consequences of your 
 conduct in a few years, you would not need persuasions 
 to reform it: but O the fatal blindness and stupidity
 
 Serm. 17. proclaimed by himself. 389 
 
 of mortals, who will not he convinced of these tilings 
 till the conviction be too late ! 
 
 IV. The name Jehovah implies that God is un* 
 changeable, or always the same. If he exists neces- 
 sarily, he must always necessarily be what he is, and 
 cannot be any thing else. He is dependent upon none, 
 and therefore he can be subject to no change from 
 another; and he is infinitely perfect, and therefore 
 cannot desire to change himself. So that he must be 
 always the same thro' all duration, from eternity to 
 eternity ; the same not only as to his being, but as to 
 his perfections; the same in power, wisdom, goodness, 
 justice, and happiness. Thus he represents himself in 
 his word, as the Father of lights, xcith whom there is 
 no variableness, nor shadow of turning. James i. 17- 
 the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Heb. xiii. 8. 
 What a distinguishing perfection is this ! and indeed 
 it is in Jehovah only that immutability can be a per- 
 fection. The most excellent creature is capable of 
 progressive improvements, and seems intended for it ; 
 and to fix such a creature at lirst in an immutable state, 
 would be to limit and restrain it from higher decrees of 
 perfection, and keep it always in a state of infancy. 
 But Jehovah is absolutely, completely, and infinitely 
 perfect, at the highest summit of all possible excel- 
 lency, infinitely beyond any addition to his perfection, 
 and absolutely incapable of improvement; and conse- 
 quently as there is no room for, so there is no need of 
 a change in him ; and his immutability is a perpetual, 
 invariable continuance in the highest degree of excel- 
 lency, and therefore the highest perfection. He is the 
 cau>eand the spectator of an endless variety of changes 
 in the universe, without the least change in himself, 
 lie sees worlds springing into being, existing awhile, 
 and then dissolving. lie sees kingdoms and empires 
 forming, rising, and rushing headlong to ruin. He 
 changes the times and the seasons; removeth kind's, 
 and he xettcth up kings. Dan. ii. ( J!. ; and he sees the 
 fickleness and vicissitudes of mortals; he sees genera- 
 tions upon generations vanishing like successive sha- 
 dows; he hi i's them now wi.se, now foolish; now in 
 pimisuit of one tiling, now of another ; now happy,
 
 39$ The Name of God Serm. M, 
 
 now miserable, and in a thousand different forms. He 
 sees the revolutions in nature, the successions of the 
 seasons, and of night and day. These and a thousand 
 other alterations he beholds, and they are all produced 
 or permitted by his all-ruling Providence; but all these 
 make no change in him ; his being, his perfections, his 
 counsels, and his happiness are invariably and eternally 
 the same. He is not wise, good, just, or happy only at 
 times, but he is equally, steadily, and immutably so 
 through the whole of his infinite duration. O how 
 unlike the fleeting offspring of time, and especially the 
 changing race of man ! 
 
 Since Jehovah is thus constant and unchangeable, 
 how worthy is he to be chosen as our best friend ! You 
 that love him need fear no change in him. They are 
 not small matters that will turn his heart from you: 
 his love is fixed with judgment, and he never will see 
 reason to reverse it: it is not a transient fit of fond- 
 ness, but it is deliberate, calm, and steady. You may 
 safely trust your all in his hands, for he cannot deceive 
 you ; and whatever or whoever fail you, he will not. 
 You live in a fickle, uncertain world; your best friends 
 may prove treacherous or cool towards you ; all your 
 earthly comforts may wither and die around you; yea, 
 heaven and earth may pass away; but your God is still 
 the same. He has assured you of it with his own 
 mouth, and pointed out to you the happy consequence 
 of it, I am the Lord Jehovah, says he, / change not ; 
 therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed. Mai. 
 iii. 6. 
 
 Wliat a complete happiness is this Jehovah to those 
 who have chosen him for their portion ! If an infinite 
 God is now sufficient to satisfy your utmost desires, he 
 will be so to all eternity. He is an ocean of commu- 
 nicative happiness that never ebbs or Hows, and there- 
 fore completely blessed will you ever be who have an 
 interest in him. 
 
 But O ! how miserable are they who arc the enemies 
 of this Jehovah ! Sinners, he is unchangeable, and can 
 never lay aside his resentments against sin, or abate in 
 the least degree in his love of virtue and holiness. He 
 will never recede from his purpose to punish impenitent
 
 Serm. 17- proclaimed by himself. 391 
 
 rebels, nor lose his power to accomplish it. His hatred 
 of all moral evil is not a transient passion, but a fixed, 
 invariable, deep-rooted hatred. Therefore, if ever you 
 be happy, there must be a change in you. As you 
 are so opposite to him, there must be an alteration in 
 the one or the other : you see it cannot be in him, and 
 therefore it must he in you; and this you ought to 
 labour tot above all other things. Let us then have 
 grace, whereby :cc may serve God acceptably with reve- 
 rence and goa/y fear, for our God is a consuming fire 
 (Heb. xii. 23. 29.) to his impenitent and implacable 
 enemies*. 
 
 * Our author has evidently not finished his subject, and I do not find 
 it prosecuted in any of the discourses that are come to my hands ; but yet 
 I determined to publish the Sermon, not only for its own (if I mistake 
 not) substantial worth, but the rather as the Sermon that next follows in 
 order may be considered as a prosecution, if not a completion of the great 
 and glorious subject he has undertaken, particularly of his professed design 
 in this Sermon, " of explaining the several perfections here ascribed to, 
 God, and shewing that they all concur to constitute his goodness." 
 
 The Editor. 
 
 C c t
 
 SERMON XVIII, 
 God is Love. 
 
 1 John iv. 8. 
 God is Love. 
 
 LOVE is a gentle, pleasing theme, the noblest pas- 
 sion of the human breast, and the fairest ornament 
 of the rational nature. Love is the cement of society, 
 and the source of social happiness; and without it the 
 great community of the rational universe would dis- 
 solve, and men and angels Mould turn savages, and 
 roam apart in barbarous solitude. Love is the spring 
 of every pleasure; for who could take pleasure in the 
 possession of what he does not love ! Love is the 
 foundation of religion and morality ; for what is more 
 monstrous than religion without love to that God who 
 is the object of it! Or who can perform social duties 
 without feeling the endearments of those relations to 
 which they belong? Love is the softener and polisher 
 of human minds, and transforms barbarians into men : 
 its pleasures are refined and delieate, and even its pains 
 and anxieties have something in them soothing and 
 pleasing. In a word, Love is the brightest beam of 
 divinity that has ever irradiated the creation ; the 
 nearest resemblance to the ever-blessed God ; for God 
 is Love. 
 
 God is Love. There is an unfathomable depth in 
 this concise laconic sentence, which even the penetra- 
 tion of an angel's mind cannot reach; an inetiable ex- 
 cellence, which even celestial eloquence cannot fully 
 represent. God is lore; not only lovely and loving, 
 but love itself; pine, unmixed love, nothing but love; 
 love in his nature and in his operations; the object, 
 source, and quintessence of all love.
 
 Serm. 18. God Is Love. 393 
 
 My present design is to recommend the Deity to 
 your affections under the amiable idea of Love, and for 
 that end to shew that his other perfections are but 
 various modifications of love. 
 
 I. Love comprehends the various forms of divine 
 beneficence. Goodness, that extends its bounties to 
 innumerable ranks of creatures, and diffuses happiness 
 through the various regions of the universe, except 
 that which is set apart for the dreadful, but salutary 
 and benevolent purpose of confining and punishing in- 
 corrigible malefactors; Grace, which so richly showers 
 its blessings upon the undeserving, without past merit 
 or the prospect of future compensation; Mercy, that 
 commiserates and relieves the miserable as well as the 
 undeserving; Patience and Long-suffering, which so 
 long tolerate insolent and provoking offenders; what 
 is all this benificence in all these its different forms 
 towards different objects, what but Love under various 
 names? It is gracious, merciful, patient and long- 
 suffering love! love variegated, overflowing, and un- 
 bounded ! what but love was the Creator of such a 
 world as this, so well accommodated, so richly furnish- 
 ed for the sustenance and comfort of its inhabitants? 
 and what but love has planted it so thick with an end- 
 less variety of beings, all capable of receiving some 
 stream of happiness from that immense fountain of it, 
 tlu divine goodness? Is it not love that preserves 
 such an huge unwieldy world as this in order and 
 harmony from age to age, and supplies all its numerous 
 inhabitants with every good' and () ! was it not love, 
 free, rich, unmerited love, that provided a Saviour for 
 the guilty children of men? It was because God loved 
 the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
 whosoever behcvetlt in h'nn should not perish, but have 
 tvtrlasl'uig life! John iii. It). O love! what hast 
 thou done! what wonders hast thou wrought ! It was 
 thou, almighty love, that broughtest down the Lord of 
 glory from his celestial throne to die upon a cross an 
 atoning sa< riiice tor the sins Of the world. And what 
 but love is it that peoples the heavenly world with 
 colonics transplanted from this rebellious province of 
 Jehovah's dominions; that f< rms sueh miracles of tHorv
 
 5<H God is Love. Serm, 18. 
 
 and happiness out of the dust, and the shattered pol- 
 luted fragments of human nature ! and what but eter- 
 nal love perpetuates their bliss through an eternal 
 duration? but it is so evident, that these instances of 
 divine goodness are only the effects of love, that it is 
 needless to attempt any farther illustration. 
 
 II. What is divine wisdom but a modification of 
 divine love, planning the best adapted schemes for 
 communicating itself in the most advantageous, bene- 
 ficent, and honourable manner, so as to promote the 
 good of the great whole or collective system of crea- 
 tures by the happiness of individuals; or to render the 
 punishment and misery of individuals, which for im- 
 portant reasons of state may be sometimes necessary in 
 a good government, subservient to the same benevolent 
 end? Whatever traces of divine wisdom we see in 
 creation; as the order and harmony of the great system 
 of nature, its rich and various furniture, and the con- 
 spiracy of all its parts to produce the good of each 
 other and of the whole; whatever divine wisdom ap- 
 pears in conducting the great scheme of Providence 
 through the various ages of time ; or in the more 
 astonishing and godlike work of redemption : in a 
 word, whatever displays of divine wisdom appear in 
 any part of the universe, they are only the signatures 
 of divine love. Why was yonder sun fixed where he 
 is, and enriched with such extensive vital influences, 
 but because divine love saw it was best and most con- 
 ducive to the good of the system? Why were our 
 bodies so wonderfully and fearfully made, and all their 
 parts so well fitted for action and enjoyment, but be- 
 cause divine love drew the plan, and stamped its own 
 amiable image upon them ? Why was the manifold 
 wisdom of God displayed, not only to mortals, but 
 also to angelic principalities and powers: Ephes. iii. 10. 
 in the scheme of redemption, which advances at once 
 the honours of the divine perfections and government, 
 and the happiness of rebellious and ruined creatures, 
 by an expedient which nothing but infinite wisdom 
 could ever devise, the incarnation, the obedience, and 
 passion of the co-equal son of God ? Why, I say, but 
 because divine love would otherwise be under restraint,
 
 Serm. 18'. God is Love. 3Q5 
 
 and incapable of giving full scope to its kind propen* 
 sions in a manner honourable to itself and conducive 
 to the public good ? In short, divine wisdom appears 
 to be nothing else but the sagacity of love, to discover 
 ways and means to exercise itself to the greatest ad- 
 vantage; or, which is the same, divine wisdom always 
 acts under the benign determination and conduct of 
 love : it is the counsellor of love to project schemes 
 subservient to its gracious purposes: and in all its 
 councils love presides. 
 
 III. V\ hat is divine power but the omnipotence of 
 love? Why did Omnipotence exert itself in the pro- 
 duction of this vast amazing world out of nothing;? 
 It was to open a channel in which the overflowing ocean 
 of love might extend itself, and diffuse its streams 
 from creature to creature, upwards as high as the most 
 
 | exalted archangel, and downwards as low as the mean- 
 est vital particle of being, and extensive as the remotest 
 ; limits of the universe, and all the innumerable inter- 
 j mediate ranks of existences in the endless chain of 
 nature. And why does Divine Power still support this 
 ; prodigious frame, but to keep the channel of love open 
 I from age to age ? and for this purpose it will be ex- 
 erted to all eternity. Perhaps I should assist your 
 ideas of Divine Power, if I should call it the acting 
 hand, the instrument, the servant of love, to perform 
 its orders, and execute its gracious designs. 
 
 IV. What is the holiness of God but love? Pure, 
 refined, and honourable love. What is it but the love 
 of excellence, rectitude, and moral goodness ? Holi- 
 ness, in its own nature, has a tendency to promote the 
 happiness of the universe: it is the health, the good 
 constitution of a reasonable being; without which it 
 lias no capacity of relishing those emjoyments which 
 are suitable to its nature. It is no arbitrary mandate 
 of heaven that has established the inseparable connec- 
 tion between holiness and happiness, between vice and 
 misery. The connection is as necessary, as immutable, 
 and as much {bunded in the nature of things, as that 
 between health of body and a capacity of animal en- 
 joyments, or between sickness and a disrelish for the 
 most agreeable food. Lvciy creature in the universe.
 
 396" God is Love. Serm. 18. 
 
 as far as he is holy is happy ; and as far as he is unholy 
 he is miserable. Therefore, by how much the more 
 holy Jehovah is, by so much the more fit lie is to com- 
 municate happiness to all that enjoy him ; and conse- 
 quently he is an infinite happiness, for he is infinitely 
 holy. His taking so much care to promote holiness is 
 but taking care of the public good. The strict ex- 
 actions of his law, which contains every ingredient of 
 the most perfect holiness, and admits of no dispensa- 
 tion, are but strict injunctions to his subjects to pur- 
 sue that course which infallibly leads them to the most 
 consummate happiness; and every abatement in his 
 demands of obedience would be a licence to them to 
 deduct so much from their happiness, and render them- 
 selves so far miserable with his consent. That mitiga- 
 tion of the rigour of his law, which some imagine he 
 has made to bring it down to a level with the abilities 
 of degenerate creatures, disabled by their voluntary 
 wickedness, would no more contribute to their felicity 
 than the allowing a sick man to gratify his vitiated 
 taste by mixing a little deadly poison in his food would 
 contribute to the recovery of his health, or the preser- 
 vation of his life. The penal sanctions of the divine 
 law are but friendly warnings against danger and mi- 
 sery, and honest admonitions of the destructive con- 
 sequences of sin, according to the unchangeable nature 
 of things ; they are threatenings which discover no 
 malignity or ill-nature, as sinners are apt to imagine, 
 but the infinite benevolence of the heart of God : 
 threatenings which are not primarily and uncondition- 
 ally intended to be executed, but to prevent all 
 occasion of their being executed, by preventing sin, 
 the natural source, as well as the meritorious cause of 
 every misery: threatenings which are not executed, but 
 as the only expedient left in a desperate case, when all 
 other means have been used in vain, and no other me- 
 thod can secure the public good, or render a worthless 
 criminal a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction, and 
 fit for nothing else; of no other service to the great 
 community of rational beings. These are some of the 
 ingredients and displays of the holiness of God : and 
 what are these but so many exertions of pure love and
 
 Serm. 18. God is Love, 397 
 
 benevolence? It is because be loves bis creatures so 
 much that lie requires them to be so holy; and that 
 very thing, against which there are so many cavils and 
 objections, as too severe and oppressive, and a rigid 
 restraint from the pursuit of pleasure, is the highest 
 instance of the love of God for them, and his regard 
 for their happiness. 
 
 Let me therefore commence advocate for God with 
 my fellow-men, though it strikes me with horror to 
 think there should be any occasion for it. Ye children 
 of the most tender Father, ye subjects of the most 
 gracious and righteous Sovereign, ye beneficiaries of 
 divine love, why do you harbour hard thoughts of 
 him ? Is it because his laws are so strict, and tolerate 
 you in no guilty pleasure? This appointment is the 
 kind restraint of love: the love of so good a being 
 will not allow him to dispense with your observance of 
 any thing that may contribute to your improvement 
 and advantage, nor indulge you in any thing that is in 
 its own nature deadly and destructive, no more than a 
 father will suffer a favourite child to play with a viper, 
 or a good goverment permit a madman to run at large 
 armed with weapons to destroy himself and others. 
 Do you think hard of God because he hates all moral 
 evil to such a degree, that he has annexed to it ever- 
 lasting misery of the most exquisite kind ? But what 
 is this but an expression of his infinite hatred to every 
 thing that is hurtful to his creatures, and his infinite 
 regard to whatever tends to their benifit? Or has he 
 been too rigid in exacting holiness as a necessary pre- 
 requisite to the happiness of heaven ? You may as 
 well complain of the constitution of nature, that ren- 
 ders abstinence from poison necessary to the preserva- 
 tion of health, or that does not allow you to quench 
 your thirst in a fever with cold water. Let me remind 
 you once more, that holiness is essential to the happi- 
 ness of heaven, and that without it you labour under 
 a moral incapacity of enjoyment ; and a moral inca- 
 pacity will as inevitably deprive you of the pleasures 
 of enjoyment as if it were natural. While unholy, 
 you can no more be happy even in the rcigion of hap- 
 pinciS than a stone can enjoy the pleasures of animal
 
 398 God is Love. Serm. 18. 
 
 life, or a mere animal those of reason. " But why," 
 you will perhaps murmur and object, " why has God 
 formed such an heaven as cannot be universally en- 
 joyed ? Why has he not provided an happiness for 
 every taste?" You may as well ask why he has not 
 created a light that would be equally agreeable to 
 every eye? to the mole and the owl, as well as to man 
 and the eagle ? Or why has he not formed light with 
 all the properties of darkness ; that is, why has he not 
 performed contradictions ? You may as well query, 
 why has he not given us equal capacities of enjoyments 
 in sickness and in health, and furnished us with equal 
 pleasures in both ? I tell you that, in the nature of 
 things, the low and impure pleasures which would suit 
 the depraved taste of the wicked, would be nauseous 
 and painful to pure minds refined and sanctified ; and 
 they cannot mingle, they cannot approach each other 
 without being destroyed, The element of water may 
 as well be converted into a fit residence for the inha- 
 bitants of dry land, and yet retain all its properties 
 that are suitable to its present natives ; or the solid 
 earth become a fit receptacle for fishes, and yet both 
 it and the fishes retain their usual qualities. In short, 
 men, beasts, birds, fishes, insects, augels, devils, the 
 inhabitants of every zone and climate, of every planet, 
 or any other region of the universe, may as well form 
 one society in one and the same place, and mingle their 
 their respective food and pleasures, as an heaven of 
 happiness be prepared that would suit every taste. God 
 has prepared the only kind of heaven that is in its 
 own nature possible; the only one that would be an 
 expression of love, or afford real and extensive happi- 
 ness to such of his creatures as are capable of it. The 
 heaven of sinners would be a nuisance to all other 
 beings in the universe; a private good only to male- 
 factors, at the expence of the public ; an open reward 
 of wickedness, and a public discountenancing of all 
 moral goodness. This would be the case upon the 
 supposition that the heaven of sinners were possible, 
 but the supposition is infinitely absurd; it is as im- 
 possible as the pleasures of sickness, the sensibility of 
 a stone, or the meredian splendours of midnight.
 
 Seiui. 18. God is Love. 399 
 
 Therefore acknowledge, admire, and love the beauty 
 of the Lord, his holiness. Give thanks, says the Psalmist, 
 at the remembrance of his holiness. Psalm xcvii. 1 2. ; 
 of his holiness, as well as of his goodness and love ; for 
 it is the brightest modification of his love and goodness. 
 An unholy being, in the character of supreme magistrate 
 of the universe, cannot be all love, or communicate no- 
 thing but what is pleasing to all; nay, as far as he is 
 unholy he must have a malignant disposition towards the 
 public happiness, and be essentially deficient in benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 V. What is the justice, even the punitive justice of 
 God, but a modification of love and goodness ! 
 
 As there is no divine perfection which appeal's so ter- 
 rible to offenders as this, which therefore they toil and 
 sweat to disapprove or explain away, I shall dwell the 
 longer upon it. And I hope to convince you that justice 
 is not that grim, stern, tremendous attribute which is 
 delineated by the guilty partial imagination of sinners, 
 who have made it their interest that there should be no 
 such attribute in Deity, but that it is infinitely amiable 
 and lovely, as well as awful and majestic; nay, that it is 
 love and benevolence itself. 
 
 By the punitive justice of God, I mean that perfection 
 of his nature which executes the sentence of his law 
 upon offenders, or inflicts upon them the punishment he 
 had threatened to disobedience, exactly according to his 
 own denunciation. The present world, which is a state 
 of trial and discipline, and not of final rewards and pu- 
 nishments, is not the proper theatre of vindictive justice, 
 but of a promiscuous providence; All things come alike 
 to all, and no man can know the love or hatred of the 
 Ruler of the world towards him, by all that is before 
 htm. Eccles. ix. 1, 12. Yet sometimes, even in this life, 
 justice arrests the guilty, and displays its illustrious terrors 
 upon them, especial Iv upon guilty nations that have no 
 existence in a national capacity in the eternal world, and 
 therefore can be punished in that capacity in this only. 
 It was vindictive justice that deluged the whole world in 
 a flood of vengeance! that kindled the flames of Sodom 
 and Gomorrah ; and that cut oil' the nations of Canaan 
 when they had filled up the measure of their iniquities.
 
 400 God is Love. Serm. IS, 
 
 It is justice that arms kingdoms from age to age, and 
 makes them the executioners of divine wrath upon one 
 another, while they are gratifying their own ambition, 
 avarice, or revenge. The devastations of earthquakes, 
 inundations, plagues, epidemical sicknesses, famines, and 
 the various calamities in which mankind have been in- 
 volved, are so many displays of divine justice; and their 
 being brought on the world according to the course of 
 nature, and by means of secondary causes, will by no 
 means prove that they are not so, but only that the very 
 make and constitution of this world are so planned and 
 formed by divine wisdom as to admit of the execution of 
 justice at proper periods, and that all its parts are the 
 instruments of justice to accomplish its designs. But 
 these, and all the other judgments of Heaven upon our 
 world, are only preludes and specimens of the most per- 
 fect administration of it in a future state. There the 
 penalty of the law will be executed upon impenitent 
 offenders with the utmost impartiality. And revelation 
 assures us that the punishment will be endless in duration, 
 and of as exquisite a kind and high degree as the utmost 
 capacity of the subjects will admit ; and consequently 
 that it will not, like fatherly chastisements, have any 
 tendency to their reformation or advantage, but to their 
 entire and everlasting destruction. Now it is this display 
 of punitive justice that appears so terrible and cruel to 
 the guilty children of men ; and therefore this is what I 
 shall principally endeavour to vindicate, and to clothe 
 with all the gentle and amiable glories of love and public 
 benevolence. 
 
 For this end I beg you would consider, that whatever 
 has a tendency to prevent sin tends to prevent misery 
 also, and to promote the happiness of the world and of 
 all l he individuals in it; that good laws are absolutely 
 necessary for the prevention of sin ; that penal sanctions 
 are essential to good laws; and that the execution of the 
 penal sanctions upon offenders is absolutely necessary to 
 their efficacy and good tendency; and consequently the 
 execution of them is a display of love and benevolence. 
 
 Consider also, that many are excited to seek everlast- 
 ing happiness, and deterred from the ways that lead down 
 to destruction, by means o^ the threatenings of the law;
 
 Serm. 18. God is Love. 401 
 
 that even those on whom they are finally executed were 
 once in a capacity of receiving immortal advantage from 
 them, but defeated their good influence and tendency by 
 their own wilful obstinacy ; and that the righteous exe- 
 cution of these threatenings upon the incorrigible, mav 
 promote the common good of the universe. 
 
 Consider farther, that criminals are incompetent judges 
 of vindictive justice, because they are parties; and there- 
 fore we should not form an estimate of it by their preju- 
 dices, but from the judgment of the disinterested and 
 impartial part of the creation. 
 
 Finally consider, that proceedings similar to those of 
 the divine government, are not only approved of as just 
 in all human governments, but also loved and admired as 
 amiable and praise worthy, and essential to the goodness 
 and benevolence of a ruler. 
 
 Let us briefly illustrate these several classes of propo- 
 sitions. 
 
 I. " Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin, tends to 
 prevent misery also, and to promote the happiness of the 
 universe and of all the individuals in it : good laws are 
 absolutely necessary for the prevention of sin : penal 
 sanctions are essential to good laws : and the seasonable 
 execution of these sanctions is absolutely necessary to 
 their efficacy and good tendency ; and consequently the 
 execution of them is a display of love and benevolence." 
 
 <e Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin tends to pre- 
 vent misery also," and that for this reason, because sin is 
 necessarily productive of misery, and destructive of hap- 
 piness. Can a rational creature be happy that is dis- 
 affected to the supreme good, the only source of that 
 kind of happiness which is adapted to a rational nature? 
 This is as impossible as that you should enjoy animal 
 pleasures while you abhor all animal enjoyments. Can a 
 social creature be happv in eternal solitude, or in a state 
 of society, while; ill-affected towards the other members 
 of society, or wh'ie they are ill-afiectcd towards him and 
 he to them, hatcjaL and hating one another ? Can a 
 creature, formed capable of felicity superior to what anv 
 good can communicate, be happy in the eager pursuit of 
 bubbles ; that is, of its highest happiness in inferior en- 
 joyments ? All those depositions cf heart and the pnv> 
 
 Yoj i : x
 
 40 God is Love. Serm. IS. 
 
 tices resulting from them, in which sin consists, enmity 
 to God, uneasy murmurings and insurrections against his 
 perfections, and the government of his law and Provi- 
 dence; a churlish, malignant, envious temper towards 
 mankind; an anxious, excessive eagerness of desire after 
 vain, unsatisfactory enjoyments; a disrelish for the ex- 
 alted pleasures of holiness and benevolence; what are 
 these and the like dispositions, but so many ingredients of 
 misery, and so many abatements of happiness ? and con- 
 sequently all measures that are taken for the prevention 
 of sin are so many benevolent expedients for the preven- 
 tion of misery and the increase of happiness. 
 
 I add, " Good laws are absolutely necessary for the 
 prevention of sin." Indeed those dispositions and actions 
 which are sinful and forbidden by the divine law, would 
 be of a deadly nature to the soul even if they were not 
 forbidden, as a stab to the heart would prove mortal to 
 the body, although there were no laws against it; and 
 for that very reason laws have been made against it. 
 Therefore the laws of God do not properly constitute the 
 destructive nature of sin, but only point out and warn 
 us against what is destructive in its own nature previous 
 to all explicit law. And is it not absolutely necessary, and 
 an act of the highest benevolence, that the supreme Law- 
 giver should warn us against this pernicious evil, and 
 plainly inform us what it is ? This is the design of his 
 laws both natural and revealed : and without them, what 
 sure instructor, what unerring guide, or what strong in- 
 ducements to a proper conduct could we have in this 
 'most important case ? Is it not necessary, is it not kind, 
 that the supreme Legislator should interpose his authority, 
 and lay us under the strongest obligations to avoid our 
 own ruin ? And if good laws are necessary, so are penal 
 sanctions ; for, " penal sanctions are essential to good 
 laws." Laws without penalties would be only the advices 
 of an equal or an inferior, and not the obligatory com- 
 mands of authority. They might be observed or not, 
 according to pleasure, and consequently would answer 
 no valuable purpose.. They would also be infinitely ab- 
 surd in their own nature; for if what the law enjoins be 
 reasonable, necessary, and of good tendency, is it not 
 necessary and fit that they who do not deserve it should
 
 Serm. 18. God is Love. 403 
 
 feel the bad effects of their omission ? And what is this 
 but a penalty ? But on a point so plain I need not mul- 
 tiply words; I appeal to the common sense of mankind, 
 I appeal to the universal practice of all governments. 
 Have there ever been, or can there possibly be any laws 
 without penal sanctions ? would not such laws be exposed 
 to perpetual insult and contempt, and be destitute of all 
 force and energy ? The common sense and universal 
 practice of ail the world, in all ages, remonstrate against 
 such an absurdity. But if penal sanctions are essential 
 to good laws, then so is their execution ; for, 
 
 " The scasonble execution of penal sanctions is abso- 
 lutely necessary to their efficacy and good tendency." 
 Penalties denounced can have no efficacy upon the sub- 
 jects of the law ; that is, they cannot excite fear, and by 
 that means deter them from disobedience, unless they 
 are believed, and their execution expected. But they 
 would soon cease to be believed, and their execution 
 would no longer be expected, if in several instances 
 thev should be dispensed with, and a succession of sin- 
 ners should pass with impunity. Other sinners, judging 
 of future events by past facts, would expect the same 
 indulgence, and therefore venture upon disobedience 
 without any restraint from the penalty of the law. Here 
 again I shall bring rhe matter to a quick decision, by 
 appealing to the common reason and universal practice 
 of mankind. Would human laws have any force if the 
 penalty was hung up as an empty terror and never exe- 
 cuted } Would not such laws be liable to perpetual 
 violation and insult, and become the sport of daring 
 offenders? Would not the escapes of former offenders 
 encourage all future generations to give themselves a 
 loose, in hopes of the same exemption ? Is it not neces- 
 sary in all governments that public justice should make 
 examples of some, to warn and deter others? Have not 
 all nations, especially the more civilized, made such 
 examples r And have not all the impartial world com- 
 mend' u their proceedings as necessary to the safety and 
 happiness of society, and repressive of their regard to 
 the public good ~<! 
 
 View ; il these things together, and mcthinks I may 
 bid defiance to uouwnoi) sense to draw anv oth< r conpu- 
 
 l: u <2
 
 404 Cod is Lore. Sirm. 1 8, 
 
 sion than that the justice of God in executing the penal- 
 ties of his law upon impenitent offenders, is the height of 
 goodness and love. If love requires that all proper ex- 
 pedients be used for the prevention of sin ; if good laws 
 are necessary for this end; if penalties are essential to 
 good laws ; and if the seasonable execution of penalties 
 be absolutely necessary to give them their benevolent 
 force and good tendency , does it not unavoidably follow, 
 that love itself requires both the enacting of penal sanc- 
 tions to the law of God, and the execution of them upon 
 proper subjects? Without this wholesome severity, the 
 divine laws would be less secure from contempt, and the 
 divine government would be less favourable to the peace 
 and happiness of the subjects than the laws and govern- 
 ments of mortals in all civilized nations. 
 
 " But why does the penalty rise so high ? Why is the 
 execution lengthened out through everlasting ages ? Why 
 might not a gentler punishment suffice?" This is the 
 grand objection ; and in such language as this the enmity 
 of the rebellious heart against the justice of God <*ene- 
 rally expresses itself. But if the original design and 
 natural tendency of the threatened penalty be to prevent, 
 sin, then by how much severer the penally, bv so much 
 the more effectual tendency leys it to answer this kind 
 design ? No punishments can rise higher than those 
 which a righteous God has annexed to disobedience, the 
 natural source of every misery ; and what is this but to 
 say that no methods more effectual con be taken to pre- 
 vent it than what he has actually taken ; we may there- 
 fore infer the ardour of the love of God from the terror 
 of his threatenings. lie has denounced the Greatest 
 misery against sin, in order to restrain his creatures from 
 running into that very misery ; and threatens the loss of 
 heaven, in order to prevent his creatures from losing it. 
 
 I must also here repeat the common argument, whi< h 
 appears to me as valid a; common; ' that as the essence 
 of sin consists in the breach oi an obligation, the evil of 
 sin must be exactly proportioned to the strength of the 
 obligation;" that a? we are undoubtedly under infinite 
 obligations to a God of infinite excellency, our Maker. 
 Ruler, and Benefactor, the evil of sin. which violates 
 hose obligations, must be infinite also : :md that no
 
 S f : u m . 1 8 . God is Love. 405 
 
 punishment short of what is infinite can be adequate to 
 the demerit of an infinite evil; and consequently sinners 
 ought to suffer a finite punishment through an infinite 
 duration, because that is the only way in which they are 
 able to bear an infinite punishment. But on this com- 
 mon topic a few hints may suffice. 
 
 I proceed to the next set of propositions : 
 
 II. " That many are excited to the pursuit of everlast- 
 ing happiness, and deterred from the ways of destruction, 
 by means of threatenings of the divine law; that even 
 those unhappy creatures on whom they are finally exe- 
 cuted were once in a capacity of receiving immortal ad- 
 vantage from them, but defeated their good influence 
 and tendency by their own wilful obstinacy; and that 
 the righteous execution of these threatenings upon the 
 incorrigible may promote the common good of the uni- 
 verse." 
 
 " Many are excited to the pursuit of everlasting hap- 
 piness, and deterred from the ways of destruction, by 
 means of the threatenings of the divine law." I appeal 
 to experience and observation, whether the terrors of the 
 Lord are not the very first thing that gives a check to 
 sinners in their headlong career to ruin ? It is the law 
 that xvorketh xcrath, Rom. iv. J. 5.; that is, an alarming 
 apprehension of the wrath of God against sin, and con- 
 strains them to use the instituted means of deliverance. 
 Thus even the terrors of the law are made subservient 
 to divine love, in turning sinners from the error of 
 their 7(Y///, and saving souls from death. And could we 
 consult the glorious assembly of the spirits of just men 
 made perfect, they would all own that if their heavenly 
 leather had not threatened them so severely, they would 
 jb.savs have continued undutiful, and consequently ren- 
 dered themselves miserable; and that they were saved 
 from hell bv being honestly warned of the danger of 
 falling into it It is true there are multitudes who dc> 
 mu receive this advantage b\ the penal sanctions o\' the 
 
 iie law. but are made miserable for ever by the cxe- 
 utiun of them ; vet it mav be added, 
 
 ' That even those unhappy creatures on whom thev 
 ne excreted were once in t eana.-itv of receiving infi- 
 - ' tdvantage from them, but defeated their irood i 
 
 D d ;,
 
 405 God is Love. Skrm. 18. 
 
 fluence and tendency in their own wilful obstinacy." 
 The threatenings of the divine law had the same good 
 tendency in their own nature with respect to them, to 
 deter them from disobedience and urge their pursuit of 
 happiness, as with respect to others; and these were some 
 of the means God appointed for their salvation. But 
 they hardened themselves against them, and thus defeated 
 their good tendency, and obstinately ruined themselves 
 in defiance of warning : they even forced a passage into 
 the infernal pit through the strongest inclosurcs. But if 
 they had not been thus warned, they not only would not 
 have been saved in the event, but they would not have 
 enjoyed the means of salvation. Now their enjoying 
 these means was in itself an inexpressible blessing, though 
 in the issue it only aggravates their misery; and conse- 
 quently the enacting those penalties to the divine law 
 was really an act of kindness even to them ; and their 
 abuse of the blessing docs not alter its nature. The pri- 
 mary and direct end of a penalty is not the punishment 
 of the subjects, but to restrain them from things injuri- 
 ous to themselves and others, and urge them to pursue 
 their own interest. But when this good end is not an- 
 swered, bv reason of their wilful follv and disobedience, 
 then, and not till then, the execution is necessary for the 
 good of others* ; which leads me to add, 
 
 " That the righteous execution of the threatened pe- 
 nalty upon the incorrigible may promote the common 
 good of the universe." This world of ours is a public 
 theatre, surrounded with numerous spectators, who are 
 interested in its affairs. Angels in particular, are wit- 
 nesses of the proceedings of Providence towards mankind. 
 
 * Penalties operate, like final causes, by a kind of retrospective in- 
 fluence j that is, whilst they are only threatened, and the subject expects 
 they will be executed, should he turn disobedient, they have a powerful 
 tendency to deter hiin from disobedience, lint they could not have this 
 benevolent tendency, unless they be executed upon those, on whom their 
 primary and chief design is not obtained ; namely, the restraining of them 
 from sin. It is enough that the offenders themselves once had an oppor- 
 tunity of taking warning, and reaping the advantage of the threatened 
 penalty, while they were in a state of trial, and candidates for eternity. 
 But it is absurd that they should receive any benefit from it, when, after 
 . ; efficient trial, it appears they will take no warning, tut are resolved to 
 p'-.-jiat in tin., in deliancc of the moit tremendous penalties.
 
 Serm. 18. God is Love. 407 
 
 and thence learn the perfections of God, and the maxims 
 of his government. Hell is also a region dreadfully con- 
 spicuous to them; and there, no doubt, the offended 
 Judge intends to shew his wrath, and make his power 
 known to them as well as to mankind. Now they are 
 held in obedience by rational motives, and not by anv 
 mechanical compulsion. And, among other motives of 
 a gentler kind, no doubt this is one of no small weight; 
 namely, their observing the destructive consequences of 
 sin upon men and angels, and the terrible displeasure of 
 God against it. It is not at all inconsistent with their 
 dignity and purity to suppose them swayed by this mo- 
 tive in a proper connection with others of a more dis- 
 interested and generous nature. Therefore the confirm- 
 ation of the elect angels in holiness, and their everlasting 
 happiness, is no doubt not a little secured and promoted 
 by the execution of righteous punishment upon some 
 notorious hardened malefactors, both of their own order 
 and of the human race. 
 
 The same thing may be said of the spirits of just men 
 made perfect ; thev are happily incapable of sinning, 
 and consequentlv of becoming miserable; but their in- 
 capacity arises from the clear conviction of their under- 
 standing, which has the conduct of their will; and, while 
 sin appears to them so deadlv and destructive an evil, it 
 is impossible, according to the make of a rational nature, 
 that thev should choose it. But the consequences of sin 
 upon the wretched creatures on whom the penalty de- 
 nounced against it is executed, is no doubt one thing 
 ' 
 
 that affords them this conviction ; and so it contributes to 
 their perseverance in obedience and happiness. Thus 
 the joys of heaven are secured by the pains of hell, and 
 even the most noxious criminals, the enemies of his God 
 and his creatures, are not useless in the universe, but 
 answer the terrible but benevolent end of warning all 
 other creatures against disobedience; which would involve 
 them in the same misery, just as the execution of a few 
 malefactors in human governments is of extensive service 
 to the rest of the subjects. 
 
 Bat as the greater part of mankind perish, it may be 
 queried, " How is it consistent with love and goodness, 
 that the majority should be punished and made monu- 
 
 D d 4
 
 408 God is Love. Serm. IS. 
 
 ments of justice, for the benefit of the smaller number V* 
 To this I reply, that though it be equally evident from 
 scripture and observation, that the greater part of man- 
 kind go down to destruction in the smooth, broad, des- 
 cending road of sin, in the ordinary ages of the world ; 
 and though revelation assures us that the number of the 
 apostate angels is very great, yet I think we have no 
 reason to conclude that the greater part of the rational 
 creation shall be miserable; nay, it is possible the number 
 of those on whom the penalty of the divine law is in- 
 flicted, may bear no more proportion to that of the 
 innumerable ranks of creatures that may be retained in 
 obedience and happiness by means of their conspicuous 
 and exemplary punishment, than the number of crimi- 
 nals- executed in our government for the warning of 
 others bears to the rest of the subjects. If we consider 
 that those who have been redeemed from the earth, even 
 in the ordinary ages of the world, though comparatively 
 but few, yet absolutely are a multitude which no man 
 can number, out of every kindred, and people, and 
 language, Rev. viii. 9- \ and that the elect angels are 
 an innumerable company*, Heb. xii. 2, perhaps much 
 greater than the legions of hell : if to these we add the 
 prodigious numbers that shall be converted in that long 
 and blessed season when Satan shall be bound, when the 
 Prince of Peace shall reign, and when the kingdom and 
 dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the 
 whole heaven shall be given to the people of the saints 
 of the most high, Dan. vii. 27, in which not only the 
 greater number of the generations that shall live in that 
 glorious millennium shall be saved, but perhaps a greater 
 number than all that perished in former generations, 
 which is very possible if we consider the long continu- 
 ance of that time, and that the world will then be under 
 the peculiar blessing of Heaven, and consequently man- 
 kind will multiply faster, and not be diminished as they 
 now are by the calamities of war, plagues, epidemical 
 sicknesses, and the other judgments of God upon thosr. 
 
 * J do not forget that the original is myriads of angels. But the word 
 is often. T think, generally used in the Greek classics, not fur any definite 
 number, but for a great and innumerable multitude. And so it is used 
 
 'T'i.
 
 Sekm. 18. God is Love. 409 
 
 times of rebellion; if we alsd borrow a little light from 
 the hypothesis of philosophy, and suppose that the other 
 planets of our system are peopled like our earth with 
 proper inhabitants, and particularly with reasonable crea- 
 tures ( for he that made those vast bodies made them not 
 in fain, he made them to be inhabited) ; if we farther 
 suppose that each of the innumerable fixed stars is a 
 sun, the center of habitable worlds, and that all these 
 worlds, like our own, swarm with life, and particularly 
 with various classes of reasonable beings (which is not 
 at ail unlikely if we argue from parity of cases, from 
 things well known to things less known, or from the 
 immense overflowing goodness, wisdom, and power of 
 the great Creator, who can replenish the infinite voids 
 of space with being, life, and reason, and with equal 
 ease produce and support ten thousand worlds as ten 
 thousand grains) ; if we suppose that his creative perfec- 
 tions will not lie inactive for ever, contented with one 
 exertion for six days, but that he still employs and will 
 emplov them for ever in causing new worlds, replenished 
 with moral agents, to start into existence here and there in 
 the endless vacancies of space ; and finally, if we sup- 
 pose that the flames of hell will blaze dreadfully bright 
 and conspicuous in the view of all present and future 
 creations, or that the destructive nature of sin will be 
 some way or another made known to the rational inha- 
 bitants of all worlds by the punishment inflicted upon a 
 number of" men and angels, and that by this tueans they 
 are effectually deterred from sin, and preserved from the 
 misery inseparable from it; I sav, if we admit these sup- 
 positions, some of which are undoubtedly true, and the 
 rest I think not improbable, then it will follow that the 
 number of holy and happy creatures in the universe will 
 be incomparably greater than that of miserable criminals; 
 and that the punisi ment of the latter is one principal 
 mean of preserving this infinite number in obedience 
 and happiness; and consequently is highly conducive to 
 the public happiness, and expressive of the love and 
 odness of the universal Ruler to the immense commu- 
 nity of hi-; subjects. And thus (rod is love, even in the 
 ;t teiriblc displavs. of his vindictive justice.
 
 410 God is Lore. Sf.rm. 18. 
 
 To illustrate this subject, consider farther, 
 III. " That criminals are incompetent judges of 
 vindictive justice." They are parties, and it is their 
 interest there should be no such attribute as justice in 
 the Deity. It is natural for them to flatter themselves 
 that their crimes are small ; that their Judge will suffer 
 them to escape with impunity, or with a gentle punish- 
 ment ; and that if he should do otherwise he would be 
 unmerciful, unjust, and cruel. The excess of self-love 
 suggests to them a thousand excuses and extenuations 
 of their guilt, and flatters them with a thousand fa- 
 vourable presumptions. An impenitent criminal is 
 always an ungenerous, mean-spirited, selfish creature, 
 and has nothing of that noble disinterested self-denial 
 and impartiality which would generously condemn him- 
 self, and approve of that sentence by which he dies. 
 A little acquaintance with the conduct of mankind will 
 soon make us sensible of their partiality and wrong 
 judgments in matters where self is concerned ; and par- 
 ticularly how unfit they are to form an estimate of 
 justice when themselves are to stand as criminals at its 
 bar. Now this is the case of all mankind in the affair 
 now under consideration. They are criminals at the 
 bar of divine justice; they are the parties to be tried; 
 they are under the dominion of a selfish spirit; it is 
 natural to them to palliate their own crimes, and to 
 form flattering expectations from the clemency of their 
 Judge. And are they fit persons to prescribe to their 
 Judge how he should deal with them, or what measure 
 of punishment he ought to inflict upon them ? Sinners! 
 dare you usurp this high province? Dare }~ou 
 
 " Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod, 
 Rejudge his justice, be the god of God* ?" 
 
 Rather stand at the bar, ye criminals ! that is your 
 place. Do not dare to ascend the throne; that is the 
 place of your judge. Stand silent, and await his right- 
 eous sentence, which is always just, always best : or, 
 if creatures must judge of the justice of their Sove- 
 
 * Pope's Essay on Man,
 
 Serm. 1. CcdisLoxe. 4H 
 
 reign, I appeal to the saints ; I appeal to angels, those 
 competent, disinterested judges ; I appeal to every up- 
 right impartial being in the universe. They approve, 
 they celebrate, they admire, and love all the displays of 
 punitive justice as necessary to the public good; and 
 their judgment may be depended on : it is not misled 
 by ignorance, nor perverted by self-interest. To whom 
 would you appeal as judges of the proceedings of 
 courts of justice among men ? To malefactors in a 
 dungeon, who have made justice their enemy, and who 
 are therefore enemies to it? No; but you would appeal 
 to obedient subjects, who are not obnoxious to justice 
 themselves but enjoy protection under its guardianship, 
 and arc sensible of its beauty and public utility? They 
 all approve it with one voice, and would look upon a 
 supreme magistrate without it as a very contemptible 
 and odious character, and essentially deficient in good- 
 ness. Hence it follows that even the punitive justice 
 of God not only is in reality, but to all impartial 
 judges appears to be a most amiable, engaging, and 
 beneficent perfection ; majestic indeed, but not forbid- 
 ding; awful, but not sullen and hateful; terrible, but 
 only to criminals; and destructive only to what des- 
 troys the public good. I have so far anticipated myself 
 that I need hardly add, 
 
 IV. " That proceedings similar to those of the divine 
 government are not only approved of as just in all 
 human governments, but also loved and admired as 
 amiable and praiseworthy, and highly essential to the 
 goodness and benevolence of a ruler/' 
 
 Does the supreme Lawgiver annex severe penalties 
 to his laws which render the disobedient miserable for 
 ever? So do human governments, with the unanimous 
 approbation of their subjects; they inflict punishments 
 that affect life, and cut oil' the offender from civil 
 society for ever ; and this is the only kind of everlast- 
 ing punishment that can be endured or executed by- 
 mortals. Docs Jehovah maintain good order in his 
 immense empire, protect his subjects, and deter them 
 from offending, by making examples of the guilty 5 
 i'Aid does he secure and advance the good of the whole 
 by the conspicuous punishment of obnoxious inciivi-
 
 412 God is Lore, Serm. W. 
 
 duals? This is done every day for the same ends in 
 human governments, and that with universal approba- 
 tion. Does he inflict punishments that are not at all 
 intended for the reformation and advantage of the 
 guilty sufferer, but only for the admonition and benefit 
 of others? This is always the ease in human govern- 
 ments when the punishment reaches to the life; for 
 then the offender himself is put out of all capacity of 
 reformation or personal advantage by it, but he suffers 
 entirely for the good of others. Even criminals must 
 be made useful to society; and this is the only use 
 they are fit to answer. Would it be inexpedient and 
 greatly injurious for a magistrate in his public charac- 
 ter to forgive crimes and suffer criminals to escape, 
 though to do so in a private character might be a vir- 
 tue? Just so God, who is the supreme Magistrate of 
 the universe, and not at all to be considered in this 
 case as a private person acting only in a private cha- 
 racter, the great God 1 say is obliged by his regard for 
 his own honour and the benefit of his subjects, to 
 inflict proper punishments and distribute his pardoning 
 mercy to individuals consistently with the general good 
 of the whole. What would be revenge in a private 
 person, which is the ruling passion of devils, is justice, 
 honour, and benevolence itself in the supreme Ruler of 
 the world ; and a failure in this would render him not 
 only less glorious and majestic, but less amiable, less 
 beneficent to his creatures. 
 
 I know hardly any thing of so much importance to 
 give us just sentiments of the proceedings of God with 
 his creatures, as that we. should conceive of him as a 
 moral Reier or the supreme Magistrate of the world. 
 -And it is owing to their not considering him in this 
 character that sinners indulge such mistaken danger- 
 ous presumptions concerning him. They choo.se to 
 conceive of him under some fond and tender name, as 
 a Being of infinite grace, the indulgent Father of his 
 creatures, :c. All tins is true; but it is equally true- 
 that he is their moral Ruler as well as their Father. 
 His creatures are his subjects as well as his children; 
 and he must act the wise and righteous Magistrate a> 
 well as the tender rather towards them. His goodness
 
 Serm. 18. God is Lore. 415 
 
 is that of a Ruler, and not of a private person; and 
 his pardoning of sin and receiving offenders into fa- 
 vour, are not private kindnesses but acts of govern- 
 ment, and therefore they must be conducted with the 
 utmost wisdom ; for a wrong step in his infinite admi- 
 nistration, which affects such innumerable multitudes 
 of subjects, would be an infinite evil, and might admit 
 of no reparation. 
 
 Though I have thus enlarged upon this subject, yet 
 I am far from exhausting my materials. But these 
 things I hope are sufficient to convince your under- 
 standings that divine justice is not that unkind, cruel, 
 and savage thing sinners are wont to imagine it ; but 
 that God is just, because God is lore: and that he 
 punishes not because he is the enemy, but because he 
 is the friend of his creatures, and because he loves the 
 whole too well to let particular offenders do mischief 
 with impunity*. 
 
 I shall only add, that this is the view Jehovah has 
 given of himself in the clearest manifestation of his 
 perfections that he ever made to mortals, lie promi- 
 ses his favourite Moses, that he would make all his 
 goodness pass before him. Observe, it is goodness he 
 intends to exhibit; and the proclamation runs thus: 
 The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long- 
 suffering, forgiving iniquity, &c. That these are acts 
 or modifications of goodness, will be easily granted, 
 jhit observe, it is added even in tins proclamation of 
 his goodness, That heicill /'/ no means clear the rail/:/: 
 
 * It may perhaps be objected. " That, to represent justice muler the 
 notion of lo\e, is Lo r.'r't.rt singularity in language, to destroy the distinc- 
 tion of the divine attributes, and the essential difference of things/' . 
 To which 1 answer, l . That a catachre.sis may be beautiful and emphati- 
 i 1, though it le ad.vays a seeming impropriety in language. Such is 
 this represcntion, " Divine justice, divine love." 2. i do not deny that 
 Cod's executing righteo: , punishment upon the guilty may be called 
 ju. nee ; but tin n it is hi.- love to the public that excites him to do tliis ; 
 and therefore his doing it may be properly denominated love, as well as 
 justice, or love under the name of justice, which is love .still. ;>. 1 do 
 not mean that the usual names of dunes should be changed, but tli.it we. 
 should ailu suitable ideas to them. \\ e may retain the name or justice 
 still but let its notaflix ideas to it that aie inconsistent with divine love. 
 Let us not look upon it a: the attribute of a tyrant, but cf a wise and, 
 goU ruler.
 
 414 God is Love. Sesm. 18. 
 
 intimating, that to be just and punish sin is an act of 
 goodness, as well as to be merciful and to forgive it. 
 
 And now when we have this copious subject in 
 review, does it not suggest to us such conclusions as 
 these : 
 
 I. May we not conclude that the case of impenitent 
 sinners is desparate indeed when it is not excessive 
 rigour, not a malignity of temper, not tyranny, or a 
 savage delight in torture that condemns them, but 
 goodness itseif, love itself? Even the gentler perfec- 
 tions of the Deity, those from which they derive their 
 presumptuous hopes, are conspired against them, and 
 unite their forces to render them miserable, in order 
 to prevent greater misery from spreading through the 
 universe. Impenitent sinners ! even the unbounded 
 love of God to his creatures is vour enemv. Love, 
 under the name and form of justice, which is equally 
 love 6till, demands your execution ; and to suffer you 
 to escape would not only be an act of injustice, but an 
 act of malignity and hostility against the whole system 
 of rational beings. Therefore repent and be holy, 
 otherwise divine love will not suffer you to be happy. 
 God is love ; therefore will he confine you in the infer- 
 nal prison, as a regard to the public welfare in human 
 governments shuts up criminals in a dungeon, and 
 madmen in Bedlam. 
 
 IJ. May we not hence conclude that all the acts of 
 the Deity may be resolved into the benevolent princi- 
 ple of love? God is love; therefore he made this vast 
 universe, and planted it so thick with variegated life. 
 God is love; therefore he still rules the world he has 
 made, and inflicts chastisements and judgments upon it 
 from every age. God is love; therefore be spared not 
 his own Son, but made him the victim of his justice. 
 God is love; therefore he requires perfect holiness, 
 perfect obedience from all his subjects. God is love ; 
 therefore he has enacted such tremendous sanctions to 
 his law, and executes them in their full extent upon 
 offenders. God is love ; therefore he has made the 
 prison of hell, and there confines in chains of everlast- 
 ing darkness those malevolent creatures that would be 
 nuisances to society and public mischiefs, if guttered
 
 Serm. 18. God is Love. 41$ 
 
 to run at large. In short, whatever he does, he does it 
 because he is love. How amiable a view of him is 
 this ! Therefore, 
 
 III. We may certainly conclude that if God be love, 
 then all his creatures ought to love him. Love him, 
 O all ye inhabitants of heaven ! But they need not 
 my exhortation ; they know him, and therefore cannot 
 but love him. Love him, all ye inhabitants of the 
 planetary worlds ! if such there be. These also I hope 
 need no exhortation, for we would willingly persuade 
 ourselves that other territories of his immense empire 
 have not rebelled against him as this earth has done. 
 Love him, O ye children of men ! To you I call; but 
 O ! I fear I shall call in vain. To love him who is all 
 love is the most hopeless proposal one can make to the 
 world. But whatever others do, love the Lord, all ye 
 his saints ! You I know cannot resist the motion. 
 Surely your love even now is ail on tire. Love t/ie 
 Lord, O rnif soul ! Amen,
 
 SEJ&MON XIX. 
 The General Resurrection. 
 
 Johx v. 28, 2.0. 
 
 fhe hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear 
 his voice, and shall come 'forth ; they that have done good, unto 
 the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the 
 resurrection of damnation. 
 
 EVER since sin entered into the world, and death 
 by sin, this earth has been a vast grave-yard, or 
 burying-place for her children. In every age, and in 
 every country, that sentence has been executing, Dust 
 thou art, and unto dust thou s/utlt return. The earth 
 has been arched with craves, the last lodo-ino-s of mor- 
 tals, and the bottom of the ocean paved with the bones 
 of men*. Human nature was at lirst confined to one 
 pair, but how soon and how wide did it spread ! How 
 inconceivably numerous are the sons of Adam ! How 
 many different nations on our globe contain many mil- 
 lions of men, even in one generation ! And how many 
 generations have succeeded one another in the long- 
 ran of near six thousand years ! Let imagination call 
 up this vast army; children that just light upon our 
 globe and then wing their flight into an unknown 
 world; i ^-headed that have had a long journey 
 
 through life; the blooming youth and the middle-aged, 
 let them pass in review before us from all countries nd 
 : all ages; and how vast and astonishing the mul- 
 
 titude ! If the posterity of one man (Abraham), by 
 one son was, according to the divine promise, as the 
 stars of heaven, or as the sand by the sea-shore, innu- 
 merable, what numbers can compute the multitudes 
 
 * No spot on earth but h'>? supply'd a grave ; 
 
 And human skulls the spacious ocean rave. Y-j . :: '-
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 417 
 
 that have sprung from all the patriarchs, the sons of 
 Adam and Noah! Iiut what is become of them all? 
 Alas ! they are turned into earth, their Original element; 
 they are all imprisoned in the grave except the present 
 generation, and we are dropping one after another in a 
 quick succession into that place appointed for all 
 living. There has not been perhaps a moment of time 
 for five thousand years but what some one or other has 
 sunk into the mansions of the dead; and in some fatal 
 hours, by the sword of war or the devouring jaws of 
 earthquakes, thousands have been cut off and swept 
 away at once, and left in one huge promiscuous carnage. 
 The greatest number of mankind beyond comparison 
 are sleeping under ground. There lies beauty moulder- 
 ing into dust, rotting into stench and loathsomeness, 
 and feeding the vilest worms. There lies the head that 
 once wore a crown, as low and contemptible as the 
 meanest beggar. There lie the mighty giants, the 
 heroes, and conquerors, the Samsons, the Ajaxes, the 
 Alexanders, and the Caesars of the world; there they 
 lie stupid, senseless, and inactive, and unable to drive 
 off the worms that riot on their marrow; and make 
 their houses in those sockets where the eye sparkled 
 with living lustre. There lie the wise and the learned, 
 as rotten, as helpless as the fool. There lie some that 
 we once conversed with, some that were our friends, 
 our companions; and there lie our fathers and mothers, 
 our brothers and sisters. 
 
 And shall they lie there always? Shall this body, 
 this curious workmanship of Heaven, so wonderfully 
 and fearfully made, always lie in ruins, and never be 
 repaired? Shall the wide-extended valleys of dry bones 
 never more live? This we know, that it is not a thing 
 impossible with God to raise ihc dead. He that could 
 first form our bodies out of nothing, is certainly able 
 to form them anew, and repair the wastes of time and 
 death, l'ut what is his declared will in this ease? On 
 this the matter turns; and this is fully revealed in my 
 text. 'J he hour is coming, when all that arc in the 
 graces, all that are dead, without exception, shall hear 
 the voice of the Son of God, and shall conic iorth. 
 
 And for what end shall thev come forth? O! for 
 Vol. I. Ee"
 
 418 The General Resurrection. Serm. 19. 
 
 very different purposes; some to the resurrection of life, 
 and some to the resurrection of damnation. 
 
 And what is the ground of this vast distinction? Or 
 what is the difference in character between those that 
 shall receive so different a doom ? It is this, They that 
 have done good shall rise to life, and they that have 
 done evil, to damnation. It is this, and this only, that 
 will then be the rule of distinction. 
 
 I would avoid all art in my method of handling this 
 subject, and intend only to illustrate the several parts 
 of the text. All that are in the graves shall hear his 
 voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done well, 
 to the resurrection of life; and they that have done 
 evil, to the resurrection oj damnation ! 
 
 I. They that are in the graves shall hear his voice. 
 The voice of the Son of God here probably means the 
 sound of the archangel's trumpet, which is called his 
 voice, because sounded by his orders and attended 
 with his all-quickening power. This all-awakening 
 call to the tenants of the grave we frequently find fore- 
 told in scripture. I shall refer you to two plain pas- 
 sages. Behold, says St. Paul, I shew you a mystery, 
 an important and astonishing secret, we shall not all 
 sleep; that is, mankind will not all be sleeping in 
 death when that day comes, there will be a generation 
 then alive upon earth; and tfiough they cannot have 
 a proper resurrection, yet they shall pass through a 
 change equivalent to it. IVe shall all be changed, says 
 he, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last 
 trump, for the trumpet shall sound, it shall give the 
 alarm; and no sooner is the awful clangor heard than 
 ail the living shall be transformed into immortals; and 
 th.e dead shall he raised incorruptible; and we, who arc 
 then alive, shall be changed, 1 Cor. xv. 51, 59,.: this is 
 all the difference, they shall be raised, and we shall be 
 changed. This awful prelude of the trumpet is also 
 mentioned in 1 Thess. iv. 15, lo\ Wexvhich arc alive, 
 and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not pre- 
 vent them which are asleep; that is, we shall not be be- 
 forehand with them in meeting our descending Lord, 
 for the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a 
 shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the
 
 Slrm. 19. The General Resurrection. 419 
 
 trump of God; that is, with a godlike trump, such as 
 it becomes his majesty to sound, and the dead in Christ 
 .shall rise first; that is, before the living shall be caught 
 up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air; and 
 when they are risen, and the living transformed, they 
 shall ascend together to the place of judgment. 
 
 My brethren, realize the majesty and terror of this 
 universal alarm. When the dead are sleeping in the 
 silent grave: when the living are thoughtless and un- 
 apprehensive of the grand event, or intent on other 
 pursuits; some of them asleep in the dead of the night; 
 some of them dissolved in sensual pleasures, eating 
 and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage; some 
 of them planning or executing schemes for riches or 
 honours; some in the very act of sin; the generality 
 stupid and careless about the concerns of eternity, 
 and the dreadful day just at hand; and a few here and 
 there conversing with their God, and looking for the 
 glorious appearance of their Lord and Saviour; when 
 the course of nature runs on uniform and regular as 
 usual, and infidel scoffers are taking umbrage from 
 thence to ask, J There is the promise of his coming? j or 
 since the fathers Jell asleep, all things continue as 
 they were from the beginning of the creation. 2 Peter 
 iii. 4. In short, when there are no more visible appear- 
 ances of this approaching day than of the destruction 
 of Sodom on that fine clear morning in which Lot fled 
 away; or of the deluge, when Noah entered into the 
 ark; then in that hour of unapprehensive security, then 
 suddenly shall the heavens open over the astonished 
 world; then shall the all-alarming clangor break over 
 their heads like a clap of thunder in a clear sky. Im- 
 mediately the living turn their gazing eyes upon the 
 amazing phenomenon : a few hear the long-expected 
 sound with rapture, and lift up their heads with joy, 
 assured that the day of their redemption is come; 
 while the thoughtless world are struck with the wildest 
 honor and consternation. In the same instant the 
 sound reaches all the mansions of the dead, and in a 
 moment, in the twinkling of an eye, they are raised, 
 and the living are changed. This call will be as ani- 
 mating to all the sons of men, as that call to a single 
 
 K e 2
 
 420 The General Resurrection. Serm. ]<). 
 
 person, Lazarus come forth. O what a surprise will 
 this be to the thoughtless World! Should this alarm 
 burst over our heads this moment, into what a terror 
 would it strike many in this assembly ? Such will be 
 the terror, such the consternation, when it actually 
 comes to pass. Sinners will be the same timorous, self- 
 condemned creatures then as they are now. And then 
 they will not be able to stop their ears, who are deaf 
 to all the gentler calls of the gospel now. Then the 
 trump of God will constrain them to hear and fear, to 
 whom the ministers of Christ now preach in vain. Then 
 they must all hear, for, 
 
 II. My text tells you, all that are in the graves, all 
 without exception, shall hear his voice. Now the 
 voice of mercy calls, reason pleads, conscience warns, 
 but multitudes will not hear. But this is a voice 
 which shall, which must reach every one of the mil- 
 lions of mankind, and not one of them will be able to 
 stop his ears. Infants and giants, kings and subjects, 
 all ranks, all ages of mankind shall hear the call. The 
 living shall start and be changed, and the dead rise at 
 the sound. The dust that was once alive and formed 
 a human body, whether it flies in the air, floats in the 
 ocean, or vegetates on earth, shall hear the new-creating 
 fiat. Wherever the fragments of the human frame are 
 scattered, this all-penetrating call shall reach, and 
 speak them into life. We may consider this voice as 
 a summons not only to dead bodies to rise, but to the 
 souls that once animated them to appear, and be re- 
 united to them, whether in heaven or hell. To the 
 grave the call will be, A rise, ye dead, and come to judg- 
 ment ; to heaven, ye spirits of just men made perfect ; 
 " descend to the world whence you originally came; 
 and assume your new formed bodies;" to hell, " Come 
 forth and appear, ye damned ghosts, ye prisoners of 
 darkness, and be again united to the bodies in which 
 you once sinned, that in them ye may now suffer.'' 
 Thus will this summons spread through every corner 
 of the universe; and Heaven, Earth and Hell, and all 
 their inhabitants, shall hear and obey. Devils, as well 
 as the sinners of our race, will tremble at the sound; 
 for now they know they can plead no more as they once
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 421 
 
 did, Torment its not before the time; for the time is 
 come, and they must mingle with the prisoners at the 
 bar. And now when all that are in the graves hear this 
 all-quickening voice, 
 
 III. They shall come forth. Now methinks I see, 
 I hear the earth heaving, charnel-houses rattling, tombs 
 bursting, graves opening Now the nations under 
 ground begin to stir. There is a noise and a shaking 
 among the dry bones. The dust is all alive and in 
 motion, and the globe breaks and trembles, as with an 
 earthquake, while this vast army is working its way 
 through and bursting into life. The ruins of human 
 bodies are scattered far and wide, and have passed 
 through many and surprising transformations. A limb 
 in one country, and another in another; here the head 
 and there the trunk, and the ocean rolling between*. 
 Multitudes have sunk ip a watery grave, been swal- 
 lowed up by the monsters of the deep, and transformed 
 into a part of their flesh. Multitudes have been eaten 
 by beasts and birds of prey, and incorporated with 
 them; and some have been devoured by their fellow- 
 men in the rage of a desperate hunger, or of unnatural 
 cannibal appetite, and digested into a part of them. 
 ?\Iultitudes have mouldered into dust, and this dust 
 has been blown about by winds, and washed away witlj 
 water, or it has petrified into stone, or been burnt into 
 brick to form dwellings for their posterity; or it has 
 grown up in grain, trees, plants, and other vegetables, 
 which are the support of man and beast, and are trans- 
 formed into their flesh and blood. But through all 
 these various transformations and changes, not a par- 
 ticle that was essential to one human body, has been 
 Inst, or incorporated with another human body! so as 
 to become an essential part of it. And as to those par- 
 ticles that were not essential, they are not necessary to 
 the identity of the body or of the person; and there- 
 fore we need not think they will be raised again. The 
 omniscient Cod knows how to collect, distinguish, and 
 compound all those scattered and mingled seeds of our 
 
 * This u;ih the fate of Pornpoy, who was slain on the African shore. 
 I !:> body was left there, and his head carried over the Mudigerra- 
 .'.:! :i i'j Jniius Cctvar.
 
 422 The General Resurrection. Serm. 19. 
 
 mortal bodies. And now, at the sound of the trumpet, 
 they shall all be collected, wherever they were scattered ; 
 all properly sorted and united, however they were 
 confused ; atom to its fellow-atom, bone to its fellow- 
 bone. Now methinks you may see the air darkened 
 with fragments of bodies flying from country to coun- 
 try, to meet and join their proper parts : 
 
 " Scattcr'd limbs, and all 
 
 The various bones obsequious to the call, 
 Self-mov'd advance ; the neck perhaps to meet 
 The distant head, the distant legs the lee t. 
 Dreadful to view, see through the dusky sky 
 Fragments of bodies in confusion fly, 
 To distant regions journeying, there to claim 
 Deserted members, and complete the frame 
 The sever'd head and trunk shall join once more, 
 1 ho' realms now rise between, and oceans roar. 
 The trumpet's sound each vagrant mote shall hear, 
 Or fixt in earth, or if afloat in air, 
 Obey the signal, wafted in the wind, 
 And not one sleeping atom lag behind." * 
 All hear ; and now ; in fairer prospect shewn, 
 Limb clings to limb, and bone rejoins its bone. f 
 
 * Young's Last Day, Book II. 
 
 -t These two last lines are taken from a poem, which is a lively 
 imitation of Dr. Young, intitled, The Day of Judgment, ascribed to 
 Mr. Ogilvie, a promising young genius of Aberdeen, in Scotland ; not 
 above nineteen year* of age, as I was informed, when he composed this 
 poem. The lines preceding these quoted, are as follow : 
 
 O'er boiling waves the sever'd members swirn; 
 
 Each breeze is loaded with a broken limb: 
 
 The living atoms, with peculiar care, 
 
 Drawn from their cells, come flying thro' the air. 
 
 Where'er they lurk'd, thro' ages undecay'd, 
 
 Deep in the rock, or cloth'd some smiling mead ; 
 
 Or in the lily's snowy bosom grew, 
 
 Or ting'd the sapphire with its lovely blue; 
 
 Or in some purling stream rei'resh'd the plains; 
 
 Or form'd the mountain's adamantine veins; 
 
 Orgaylv sporting in the breathing spring, 
 
 Perfum'd the whisp'ring Zephyr's balmy wing. 
 
 All hear, &c. 
 The thought seems to be borrowed from Mr. Addison's fine Latin 
 poem on the Resurrection; in which are the following beautiful lines: 
 
 Jam pulvis varias terrse disperaa per oras, 
 
 Sive inter venas teneri concreta metalli, 
 
 Sensim diriguit, seu sese immiscuit herbis.
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 423 
 
 Then, my brethren, your dust and mine shall be 
 re-animated and organized; and though after our skin 
 worms destroy these bodies, yet in our flesh shall we 
 see God. Job xix. 16\ 
 
 And what a vast improvement will the frail nature of 
 man then receiver Our bodies will then be substan- 
 tially the same; but how different in qualities, in 
 strength, in agility, in capacities for pleasure or pain, 
 in beauty or deformity, in glory or terror, according 
 to the moral character of the persons to whom they be- 
 long? Matter, we know, is capable of prodigious al- 
 terations and refinements; and there it will appear in 
 the highest perfection. The bodies of the saints will 
 be formed glorious, incorruptible, without the seeds 
 of sickness and death. The glorified body of Christ, 
 which is undoubtedly carried to the highest perfection 
 that matter is capable of, will be the pattern after 
 which they shall be formed. He will change our vile 
 body, says St. Paul, that it may be fashioned like unto 
 his glorious body. Phil. iii. 21. Flesh and blood, in 
 their present state of grossness and frailty, cannot in- 
 herit the kingdom of God; neither doth corruption 
 inherit incorruption. But this corruptible body must 
 put on incorruption ; and this mortal must put on im- 
 mortality. Cor. xv. 50, 53. And how vast the change, 
 how high the improvement from its present state ! It 
 was sown in corruption, it shall be raised in incor- 
 ruption ; it was sown in dishonour, it shall be raised 
 in glory ; it was sown in weakness, it shall be raised in 
 power, verses 41', 43, &c. Then will the body be able 
 to bear up under the exceeding great and eternal weight 
 of glory : it wiLl no longer be a clog or an incumbrance 
 to the soul, but a proper instrument and assistant in 
 all the exalted services and enjoyments of the heavenly 
 state. 
 
 The bodies of the wicked will also be improved, 
 but their improvements will all be terrible and vindic- 
 tive. Their capacities will be thoroughly enlarged, 
 but then it will be that they may be made capable of 
 
 Kxplicata ost ; nioicm rursus c oaie-cit in imam 
 Divi-iUiu I-'utius, '-jiarsos prior alii;>at artus 
 Juni'turn, aptantiM'q. itcrum camntia membra
 
 4-24 'Hie General Resurrection. Sehm, 19. 
 
 greater misery: they will be strengthened, but it will 
 be that they may bear the heavier load of torment. 
 Their sensations will be more quick and strong, but 
 it will be that they may feel the more exquisite pain. 
 They will be raised immortal, that they may not be 
 consumed by everlasting fire, or escape punishment 
 by dissolution or annihilation. In short, their aug- 
 mented strength, their enlarged capacities, and their 
 immortality will be their eternal curse; and they would 
 willingly exchange them for the fleeting duration qf a 
 fading flower, or the faint sensations of an infant. 
 The only power they would rejoice in is, that of self- 
 annihilation. 
 
 And now when the bodies are completely formed 
 and fit to be inhabited, the souls that once animated 
 them, being collected from heaven and hell, re- 
 enter and take possession of their old mansions. They 
 are united in bonds which shall never more be dis- 
 solved; and the mouldering tabernacles are now be- 
 come everlasting habitations. 
 
 And with what joy will the spirits of the righteous 
 welcome their old companions from their long sleep 
 in tiie dust, and congratulate their resurrection! Mow 
 will they rejoice tore-enter their old habitations, now so 
 completely repaired and highly improved ! to find those 
 bodies wiii eh were once their incumbrance, once frail 
 and mortal in which they were imprisoned and lan- 
 guished, once their temptation, tainted with the seeds 
 of sin, now their assistants and co-partners in the busi- 
 ness of Heaven, now vigorous, incorruptible, and im- 
 mortal, now free from all corrupt mixtures, and shining 
 in all the beauties of perfect holiness ! In these bodies 
 they once served their God with honest though feeble 
 efforts, conflicted with sin and temptation, and passed 
 through all the united trials and hardships of mortality 
 and the christian life. But. now they are united to 
 them for more exalted and blissful purposes. The 
 lungs that were wont to heave with penitential sighs 
 and groans, shall now shout forth their joys and the 
 praises of their God and Saviour. The heart that was 
 once broken with sorrows shall now be bound up for 
 ever, and overflow with immortal pleasures. Those
 
 Sr.iiM. 19. The General Resurrection. 4-25 
 
 \ cry eyes, that were wont to run down with tears, and 
 to behold many a tragical sight, shall now behold the 
 King in his beauty, shall behold the Saviour whom, 
 though unseen, they loved, and all the glories of hea- 
 ven; and God shall wipe away all their tears. All the 
 senses, which were once avenues of pain, shall now he 
 inlets of the most exalted pleasure. In short, every 
 organ, every member shall he employed in the most 
 noble services and enjoyments, instead of the sordid 
 and laborious drudgery, and the painful sufferings of 
 the present state. Blessed change indeed! Rejoice, ye 
 children of God, in the prospect of it. 
 
 But how shall I glance a thought upon the dreadful 
 case of the wicked in that tremendous day! While 
 their bodies burst from their graves the miserable 
 spectacles of horror and deformity see the millions of 
 gloomy ghosts that once animated them, rise like pillars 
 of smoke from the bottomless pit! and with what re- 
 luctance and anguish do they re-enter their old habita- 
 tions ! O what a dreadful meeting! what shocking sa- 
 lutations ! " And must I be chained to thee again 
 (may the guilty soul say) C) thou accursed, polluted 
 bodv, thou system of deformity and tenor! In thee 
 I once sinned, by thee I was once ensnared, debased, 
 and ruined: to gratify thy vile lusts and appetites I 
 neglected my own immortal interests, degraded my 
 native dignity, and made myself miserable for ever. 
 And hast thou now met me to torment me for ever? 
 O that thou hadst still slept in the dust, and never been 
 repaired again! Let me rather be condemned to ani- 
 mate a toad or serpent than that odious body once de- 
 filed with sin, and the instrument of my guilty plea- 
 sures, now made strong and immortal to torment me 
 with strong and immortal pains. Once indeed I re- 
 ceived sensations of pleasure from thee, but now thou 
 art transformed into an engine of torture. No more 
 shall I through thine eyes behold the cheerful light of 
 the dav and the beautiful prospects of nature, but the 
 thick glooms of hell, grim and ghastly ghosts, heaven 
 at an impassable distance, and all the horrid sights of 
 woe in the infernal regions. No more shall thine ears 
 'harm me with the harmony of sounds, but; terrify and
 
 A c 26 The General Resurrection. Serm. 19. 
 
 distress me with the echo of eternal groans, and the 
 thunder of* almighty vengeance! No more shall the 
 gratification of thine appetites afford me pleasure, but 
 thine appetites, for ever hungry, for ever unsatisfied, 
 shall eternally torment me with their eager importu- 
 nate cravings. No more shall thy tongue be employed 
 in mirth, and jest, and song, but complain and groan, 
 and blaspheme, and roar for ever. Thy feet, that once 
 walked in the flowery enchanted paths of sin, must 
 now walk on the dismal burning soil of hell. O my 
 wretched companion! I parted with thee with pain 
 and reluctance in the struggles of death, but now I 
 meet thee with greater terror and agony. Return to 
 thy bed in the dust; there sleep and rot, and let me 
 never see thy shocking visage more." In vain the peti- 
 tion ' the reluctant soul must enter its prison, from 
 whence it shall never more be dismissed. And if we 
 might indulge imagination so far, we might suppose 
 the body begins to recriminate in such language as 
 this: " Come, guilty soul, enter thy old mansion; if 
 it be horrible and shocking, it is owing to thyself. 
 Was not the animal frame, die brutal nature, subjected 
 to thy government, who art a rational principle? In- 
 stead of being debased by me, it became thee to have 
 not only retained the dignity of thy nature, but to 
 have exalted mine, by noble employments and grati- 
 fications worthy an earthly body united to an immortal 
 spirit. Thou mightest have restrained my. members 
 from being the instruments of sin, and made them the 
 instruments of righteousness. My knees would have 
 bowed at the throue of grace, but thou didst not affect 
 that posture. Mine eves would have read, and mine 
 ears heard the word of life; but thou wouldst not set 
 them to that employ, or wouldst not attend to it. And 
 now it is but just the body thou didst prostitute to siti 
 should be the instrument of thy punishment. Indeed, 
 fain would I relapse into senseless earth as I was, and 
 continue in that insensibility for ever : but didst 
 thou not hear the all-rousing trumpet just now? 
 did it not even shake the foundations of thy infernal 
 prison? It was that call that awakened me, and summoned 
 me to meet thee, and I could not resist it. Therefore
 
 SebM. Id. Tke General Resurrection. 427 
 
 come, miserable soul, take possession of this frame 
 md let us prepare for everlastmg burmrig O that it 
 wete now possible to die! O that we cool J be agam se- 
 parated, ami never be un.ted more! am ush,e 
 wei"ht of mountains, the pangs of hell, the names 
 of unquenchable fire, can never dissolve these chams 
 which now bind us together*! ' . 
 
 O! Sirs, what a shocking interview is this! O Hie 
 glorious, dreadful morning of the resurrect on! tthat 
 Scenes of unknown joy and terror *i It h open? 
 Methinks we must always have it in prospec , t i nu 
 even now engae our thoughts, and till us with tiem 
 b i Vsolieitud?, and make it the great object of on 
 labour and pursuit to share in the resurrection of the 
 
 j " But for what ends do these sleeping ^altitude, .rise? 
 For what purposes do they come forth r My text will 
 
 tC lV U They shall come forth, some to the resurrection 
 of life, andsome to the resurrection oj '><*- J 
 arc summoned from their graves to stan<l at the ba, 
 
 and brought out of prison by angelic H^S 
 their last trial. And as in this impartial rial they will 
 I e found to be persons of very different characters, the 
 righteous Judge of the earth will accordingly pro- 
 n ounce their different doom. ; 
 
 See a Glorious multitude, which none can number 
 openly acquitted, pronounced blessed, and welcomed 
 
 * The Rev. Mr. John Reynolds, in his poem intitled thatg <Von 
 introduces the soul speaking aglinst the body and a ,- -I eckn J it. 
 censures and turning them upon itseli, in a vein of tnougli 
 
 that of Mr. Davies. 
 
 Go, tempter, go, as thou hast been 
 A quick extinguUher of hcav'nly hres . 
 A source of black enormity and sin, 
 Thou cramp of sacred motions and desires . 
 How brave and bless' d am 1, 
 Unfetter'd from thy company, 
 Thou enemy of my joys and me? 
 But pardon that 1 thus 
 Unconsciously accuse! 
 How much more cruel have 1 been to tl.ee . 
 '1 was cruel 1 oblig'd thee to obey 
 Tho wilful dictates of my guilty iwav
 
 428 The General Resurrection. Serm. 19- 
 
 into the kingdom prepared for them from the founda- 
 tion q) the world. Now they enter upon a state which 
 deserves the name of life. Thev are all vital, all active, 
 all glorious, all happy. They shine brighter than the 
 stars in the firmament; like the sun for ever and ever. 
 All their faculties overflow with happiness. ' They 
 mingle with the glorious company of angels; they 
 behold that Saviour whom unseen they loved ; they 
 dwell in eternal intimacy with the Father of their spi- 
 rits; they are employed with ever-new and growing 
 delight in the exalted services of the heavenly sanctuary. 
 They shall never more fear nor feel the least touch of 
 sorrow, pain, or any kind of misery, hut shall be as 
 happy as their natures can admit through an immortal 
 duration. What a glorious new creation is here ! what 
 illustrious creatures formed of the dust! And shall 
 any of us join in this happy company? O! shall any 
 of us, feeble, dying, sinful creatures, share in their 
 glory and happiness? This is a most interesting in- 
 quiry, and I would have you think of it with trem- 
 bling anxiety; and I shall presently answer it in its 
 place. 
 
 The prospect would he delightful, if our charity 
 could hope that this will be the happy end of all the 
 sons of men. But, alas! multitudes, and we have 
 reason to fear the far greater number shall come fort}}, 
 not to the resurrection of life, but to the resurrection 
 of damnation. Damnation ! what terror is in the 
 sound. If audacious sinners in our world make light 
 of it, and pray for it on every trifling occasion, their 
 infernal brethren that feel its tremendous import are 
 not so hardy, but tremble and groan, and can trifle with 
 it no more. 
 
 Let us realize the miserable doom of this class of 
 mankind. See them bursting into life from their sub- 
 terranean dungeons', hideous shapes of deformity and 
 terror, expressive of the vindictive design for which 
 their bodies are repaired, .and of the boisterous and 
 malignant passions that ravage their souls. Honor 
 throbs through every vein, and glares wild and furi- 
 ous in their eyes. Every joint trembles, and every
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 429 
 
 countenance looks down-cast and gloomy. Now they 
 see that tremendous day of which they were warned in 
 vain, and shudder at those terrors of which they once 
 made light. They immediately know the grand busi- 
 ness of the day, and the dreadful purpose for which 
 they are roused from their slumbers in the grave; to 
 be tried, to be convicted, to be condemned, and to 
 be dragged away to execution. Conscience has beeft 
 anticipating the trial in a separate state; and no sooner 
 is the soul united to the body than immediately con- 
 science ascends its throne in the breast, and begins to 
 accuse, to convict, to pass sentence, to upbraid, and 
 to torment. The sinner is condemned, condemned 
 at his own tribunal, before he arrives at the bar of his 
 Judge. The first act of consciousness in his new state 
 of existence is a conviction that lie is condemned, an 
 irrevocably condemned creature. He enters the court, 
 knowing beforehand how it will go with him. When 
 he finds himself ordered to the left hand of his Judge, 
 when he hears the dreadful sentence thundered out 
 against him, Depart J rom me accursed, it was but what 
 he expected. Now he can flatter himself with vain 
 hopes, and shut his eyes against the light of convic- 
 tion, but then he will not he able to hope better; then 
 he must know the worst of his case. The formality of 
 the judicial trial is necessary for the conviction of the 
 world, but not for his ; his own conscience has already 
 determined his condition. However, to convince others 
 of the justice of his doom, he is dragged and guarded 
 from his grave to the judgment-seat by fierce unrelent- 
 ing devils, now his tempters, but then his tormentors. 
 With what horror docs he view the burning throne 
 and the frowning face of his .Judge, that Jesus whom 
 lie once disregarded, in spite of all his dying love and 
 the salvation he offered! How does he wish for a co- 
 vering of rocks and mountains to conceal him from 
 his angry eve! but all in vain. Appear he must. He 
 is ordered to the left among the trembling criminals; 
 and now the trial comes on. All his evil deeds and all 
 his omissions of duty aie now produced against him. 
 All the mercies he abused, all the chastisements he
 
 430 The General Resurrection. Ser.m. 19. 
 
 despised, all the means of grace he neglected or mis- 
 improved, every sinful, am* even every idle word, nay 
 his most secret thoughts and dispositions are all ex- 
 posed, and brought into judgment against him. And 
 when the Judge puts it to him, " Is it not so, sinner? 
 Are not these charges truer" Conscience" obliges him 
 to confess and cry out, Guilty ! guilty ! And now the 
 trembling criminal being plainly convicted, and left 
 without all plea and all excuse, the supreme Judge, in 
 stern majesty and inexorable justice, thunders out the 
 dreadful sentence, Depart Jrom me, ye cursed, into 
 everlasting jire, prepared jor the devil and his angels. 
 Matt. xxv. 41. O tremendous doom! every word is 
 big with terror, and shoots a thunder-bolt through the 
 heart. 4l Depart: away from my presence; I cannot 
 bear so loathsome a sight. I once invited thee to 
 come to me, that thou mightest have life, but thou 
 wouldst not regard the invitation; and now thou shalt 
 never hear that inviting voice more. Depart from me; 
 from me, the only Fountain of happiness, the only pro- 
 per Good for an immortal mind." ' But, Lord' (we 
 may suppose the criminal to say) ' If I must depart, 
 bless me before I go.' " No," says the angry Judge, ''de- 
 part accursed; depart with my eternal and heavy curse 
 upon thee ; the curse of that power that made thee ; 
 a curse dreadfully efficacious, that blasts whatever it 
 falls upon, like flashes of consuming, irresistible light- 
 ning." ' But if I must go away under thy curse (the 
 criminal may be supposed to say) let that be all my 
 punishment; let me depart to some agreeable, or at 
 least tolerable recess, where I may meet with some- 
 thing to mitigate the curse.' " No, depart into fire ; 
 there burn in all the excruciating tortures of that 
 outrageous element." ' But, Lord, if I must make my 
 bed in fire, O let it be a transient blaze that will soon 
 burn itself out, and put an end to my torment.'' " No, 
 depart into everlasting fire; there burn without con- 
 suming, and be tormented without end." ' But, Lord, 
 grant me (cries the poor wretch) at least the mitiga- 
 tion of friendly, entertaining, and sympathising com- 
 pany; or if this cannot be granted, grant me this small,
 
 Serm. 19 The General Resurrection. 431 
 
 this almost no request, to be doomed to some solitary 
 corner in hell, where I shall be punished only by my 
 own conscience and thine immediate hand; but O de- 
 liver me from these malicious, tormenting devils; banish 
 me into some apartment in the internal pit far from 
 their society.' " No, depart into everlasting fire pre- 
 pared for the devil and his angels : thou must make one 
 of their wretched crew for ever: thou didst join with 
 them in sinning, and now must share in their punish- 
 ment: thou didst submit to them as thy tempters, and 
 now thou must submit to them as thy tormentors." 
 
 Sentence being pronounced, it is immediately exe- 
 cuted. These shall go away into everlasting punish- 
 ment. Matt. xxv. 46". Devils drag them away to the 
 pit, and push them'down headlong. There they are con- 
 fined in chains of darkness, and in a lake burning with 
 fire and brimstone, for ever, for ever ! In that dread- 
 ful word lies the emphasis of torment : it is an hell in 
 hell. If they might be but released from pain, though 
 it were by annihilation, after they have wept away ten 
 thousand millions of ages in extremity of pain, it 
 Mould be some mitigation, some encouragment ; 
 but, alas! when as many millions of ages are passed 
 as the stars of heaven, or the sand on the sea-shore, 
 or the atoms of dust in this huge globe of earth, 
 their punishment is as far from an end as when the 
 sentence was first pronounced upon them. For ever! 
 there is no exhausting of that word ; and when it is 
 affixed to the highest degree of misery, the terror of 
 the sound is utterly insupportable. See, sirs, what de- 
 pends upon time, that span of time we enjoy in this 
 fleeting life. Eternity! awful, all-important eternity 
 depends upon it. 
 
 All this while conscience tears the sinner's heart with 
 the most tormenting reflections. " () what a fair op- 
 portunity I once had for salvation, had I improved it ! 
 I was warned of the consequences of a life of sin and 
 carelessness; I was told of the necessity of faith, re- 
 pentance, and universal holiness of heart and life; I 
 enjoyed a sufficient space for repentance, and all the 
 ueffssary means of salvation, but, fool that I was, I
 
 43 The General Resurrection. Serm. 19. 
 
 neglected all, I abused all; I refused to part with my 
 sins; I refused to engage seriously in religion, and to 
 seek God in earnest; and now I am lost for ever with- 
 out hope. O ! for one of those months, one of those 
 weeks, or even so much as one of those days or hours 
 I once trifled away! with what earnestness, with what 
 solicitude would I improve it! But all my opportuni- 
 ties are past, beyond recovery, and not a moment shall 
 be given me for this purpose any more. O what a fool 
 was I to sell my soul for such trifles! to set so light by 
 heaven, and fall into hell through mere neglect and 
 carelessness!" Ye impenitent, unthinking sinners, 
 though you may now be able to silence or drown the 
 clamours of your consciences, yet the time, or rather 
 the dread eternity is coming, when they will speak in 
 spite of you ; when they will speak home, and be felt 
 by the most hardened and remorseless heart. Therefore 
 now regard their warnings while they may be the 
 means of your recovery. 
 
 You and I, my brethren, are concerned in the so- 
 lemn transaction of the day I have been describing. 
 You and I shall either be changed in a moment, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, or while mouldering in the 
 grave, we shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and 
 come forth, either to the resurrection of life, or to the 
 resurrection of damnation. And which, my brethren, 
 shall be our doom ? Can we foreknow it at this 
 distance of time? I proposed it to your inquiry al- 
 ready, whether you have any good reason to hope 
 you shall be of that happy number who shall rise to 
 life? and now I propose it again with this counter- 
 part. Have you any evidences to hope you shall not 
 be of that wretched numerous multitude who shall rise 
 to damnation? If there be an inquiry within the com- 
 pass of human knowledge that demands your solicitous 
 thoughts, certainly it is this. Methinks you cannot 
 enjoy one moment's ease or security while this is un- 
 determined. And is it an answerable inquiry? Can 
 we now know what are the present distinguishing cha- 
 racters of those who shall then receive so different a 
 doom? Yes, my text determines the point; for,
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 433 
 
 V. they that hare done good shall come forth to the 
 resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the 
 resurrection of damnation. These are the grounds of 
 the distinction that shall then be made in the final 
 states of men, doing* good and doing evil. And cer- 
 tainly this distinction is perceivable now; to do good 
 and to do evil are not so much alike as that it should 
 be impossible to distinguish between them. Let us 
 then see what is implied in these characters, and to 
 whom of us they respectively belong. 
 
 1. What is it to do good? This implies, 1st, An 
 honest endeavour to keep all God's commandments; 
 1 say, all his commandments with regard to God, 
 our neighbour, and ourselves, whether easy or diffi- 
 cult, whether fashionable or not, whether agreeable 
 to our natural constitution or not, whether enjoining 
 the performance of duty or forbidding the commission 
 of sin, whether regarding the heart or the outward 
 practice. I say an uniform, impartial regard to all 
 God's commandments, of whatever kind, in all cir- 
 cumstances, and at all times, is implied in doing 
 good; for if we do any thing because God commands 
 it, we will endeavour to do every thing that he com- 
 mands, because where the reason of our conduct is the 
 same, our conduct itself will be the same. I do not mean 
 that good men in the present state perfectly keep the 
 commandments of God in every thing, or indeed in 
 any thing; but I mean that universal obedience is 
 their honest endeavour. Their character is in some 
 measure uniform and all of a piece; that is, they do 
 not place all their religion in obedience to some com- 
 mands which may be agreeable to them, as though 
 that would make atonement for their neglect of 
 others; but, like David, they are for having a respect, 
 and indeed have a respect to all God's commandments. 
 Psalm cxix. 6. My brethren, try yourselves by this test. 
 
 2. To do good in an acceptable manner presupposes 
 a change of nature and a new principle. Our nature is 
 so corrupted that nothing really and formally good can 
 be performed by us till it be renewed. To confirm this 
 I shall only refer vou to Eph. ii. 10. and Ezek. xxxvi. 20?, 
 
 Vol. 1. V f
 
 434- The General Resurrection. Serm. 19. 
 
 <27. where being created in Christ Jesus to good works, 
 and receiving a new heart of flesh, are mentioned as pre- 
 requisites to our walking in God's statutes. As for the 
 principle of obedience, it is the love of God, 1 John 
 v. 3. ; that is, we must obey God because we love him; 
 we must do good because we delight to do good; other- 
 wise it is all hypocrisy, constraint, or selfishness, and 
 cannot be acceptable to God. Here again, my brethren, 
 look into your hearts and examine what is the princi- 
 ple of your obedience, and whether ever you have been 
 made new creatures. 
 
 3. I must add, especially as we live under the gos- 
 pel, that your dependence for life must not be upon 
 the good you do, but entirely upon the righteousness 
 of Jesus Christ. After you have done all, you must 
 acknowledge you are but unprofitable servants, and 
 renounce all your works in point of merit, while you 
 abound in them in point of practice. Phil. iii. 7, 8. 
 This is an essential characteristic of evangelical obe- 
 dience, and without it you cannot expect to have a 
 resurrection to eternal life and blessedness. 
 
 I might enlarge upon this head, but time will not 
 permit ; and I hope these three characters may suffice 
 to shew you what is implied in doing good Let us 
 now proceed to the opposite character. 
 
 2. What is it to do evil? This implies such things 
 as these: The habitual neglect of well-doing, or the 
 performance of duties in a languid, formal manner, 
 or without a right principle, and the wilful indul- 
 gence of any one sin; the secret love of sin, though 
 not suffered to break forth into the outward practice. 
 Here it is evident at first sight that profane sinners, 
 drunkards, swearers, defrauders, avowed neglecters 
 of religion, &c. have this dismal brand upon them. 
 that they are such as do evil. Nay, all such who are 
 in their natural state, without regeneration, whatever 
 their outside be, must be ranked in this class: for 
 that which is born of the flesh is flesh, John iii. 6; and 
 they that are in the flesh cannot please God, nor be 
 rightly subject to his law. Rom. viii. 7, 8. 
 
 And now who is for life, and who for damnation
 
 Serm. 19. The General Resurrection. 435 
 
 among you? These characters are intended to make 
 the distinction among you, and I pray you apply 
 them for that purpose. 
 
 As for such of you who amidst all your lamented 
 infirmities are endeavouring honestly to do good, and 
 grieved at heart that you can do no more, you also 
 /must die; you must die, and feed the worms in the 
 dust. But you shall rise gloriously improved, rise to 
 an immortal life, and in all the terrors and consterna- 
 tion of that last day, you will be secure, serene, and 
 undisturbed. The almighty Judge will be your friend, 
 and that is enough. Let this thought disarm the 
 king of terrors, and give you courage to look down 
 into the grave, and forward to the great rising day. 
 O what an happy immortality opens its glorious pros- 
 pects beyond the ken of sight before you ! and after 
 a few struggles more in this state of warfare, and rest- 
 ing a wile in the bed of death, at the regions of eter- 
 nal blessedness you will arrive, and take up your resi- 
 dence there for ever. 
 
 But are there not some here who are conscious that 
 these favourable characters do not belong to them? 
 that know that well-doing is not the business of their 
 life, but that they are workers of iniquity? I tell you 
 plainly, and with all the authority the word of God 
 can give., that if you continue such, you shall rise to 
 damnation. That will undoubtedly be your doom, 
 unless you are greatly changed and reformed in heart 
 and life. And will this be no excitement to vigorous 
 endeavours? Are you proof against the energy of such 
 a consideration? Ye careless sinners, awake out of 
 your security, and prepare for death and judgment 1 
 This fleeting life is all the time you have for prepara- 
 tion, and can you trifle it away? Your all, your eter- 
 nal all is set upon the single cast of life, and you must 
 stand the hazard of the dye. You can make but one 
 experiment, and if that fail, through your sloth or 
 mismanagment, you are irrecoverably undone for ever. 
 Therefore, by the dread authority of the great God, 
 by the tenors of death, and the great rising day, by 
 the joys of heaven, and the torments of hell, and by
 
 436* Tht General Resurrection. Serm. ig. 
 
 the value of your immortal souls, I intreat, I charge, 
 I adjure you to awake out of your security, and im- 
 prove the precious moments of life. The world is 
 dying all around you. And can you rest easy in such 
 a world while unprepared for eternity? Awake to 
 righteousness now, at the gentle call of the gospel, be- 
 fore the last trumpet give you an alarm of another 
 kind. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 3 6 * 
 
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