m UBRARX II *'\ //>//>/4;/ bv \ittr <>// f'r'j/tf .; ''.' ' /.iverpi <>/. Marrfi, /a?, x.a.1 TUV aMwf GIB; avaTri^rjya. Socrat. Memorab. lib. i. c. i. sect. 11. 24. Let none conclude, from this or any other passage, that we would consign over all the Heathens to damnation. This is as far from our intention as it is foreign to the argument. We are only, like witnesses, summoned to give in our evidence : from which it appears, that the very best among the Gentiles were ignorant of the true God ; or, if " they knew him" in any degree, " they glorified him not as God, but became vain in their imagination," and vile in their worship Whether they shall obtain mercy, or which of them shall be objects of divine clemency, is left solely to the determination of their supreme, unerring, righteous Judge. " Non nostrum est tautas componere litei." DIALOGUE XIII. 11 r^~i r ,4^ f ^1.^1 f\f f *-**~\f> t 4\*\*\ Equally at a loss as to the supreme Good. might adopt customs, and assent to notions, which they did not thoroughly approve. Asp. A poor compliment this to their integrity ! Had I been their advocate, methinks I would have given up the sagacity of my clients, rather than their fidelity to the cause of God and truth. With reference to the supreme Good, they were equally at a loss. There is not one among all the in- ferior creatures, not even the crawling worm, or the buzzing fly, but perceives what is beneficial, and pur- sues it ; discerns what is pernicious, and avoids it. Yonder caterpillar, whose nourishment is from one particular species of vegetables, never makes a wrong application to another ; never is allured by the fra- grance of the auricula, or dazzled by the splendour of the true character of mankind in general, And does the tulip ; but constantly distinguishes, and as con- stantly adheres to, the leaf which affords her the pro- per food. So sagacious are the meanest animals, with relation to their respective happiness ! while the most celebrated of the Heathen sages were, on a sub- ject of the very same import, mere dotards. Varro reckons up no less than two hundred and eighty-eight different opinions concerning the true good ; and not one of them derives it from the true source ; I mean, a conformity to the ever-blessed God, and an enjoy- ment of his infinite perfections. If, on these leading points, they were so erroneous, no wonder that they were bewildered in their other re- searches. Ther. We are not inquiring into the circumstances of this or that particular nation, but into the state of mankind in general. Asp. Cast your eye, Theron, upon those swallows ; they shoot themselves, with surprising rapidity, through the air. I should take them for so many living arrows, were it not for their shifting, winding, wanton motions. Are not these what you call birds of passage? Ther. These, and some other of the feathered race, are our constant visitors in summer, but leave us at 12 THfcRON AND ASPASIO. The wonderful instinct of birds of passage, reproaches man's want of heavenly wisdom. the approach of winter. As soon as the weather be- comes cold, they assemble themselves in a body, and concert measures for their departure. Who convenes the assembly, what debates arise, or how they com- municate the resolution taken, I donot presume to say : this is certain, that not one of them dislodges till the affair is settled, and the proclamation has been pub- lished. Not a single loiterer is to be seen when the troops are preparing for their decampment ; nor a sin- gle straggler to be found, when they have once begun their march. Having finished their journey through the land, their wings become a sort of sails,* and they launch, not into, but over the ocean. Without any compass to regulate their course, or any chart to make observations in their voyage, they arrive safely at the desired shore. And what is still more extraordinary, they always find the readiest way, and v the shortest cut. Asp. " The stork in the heavens knoweth her ap- pointed times ; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coining : but my people know not the judgment of their God."f The young ones of those birds perceive how absolutely ne- cessary it is to forsake the land of their nativity, and travel in quest of milder climes. But our offspring, even when their minds begin to open, " are brutish in their knowledge."} Born they are, and too long con- tinue, " like the wild ass's colt," not only quite desti- tute of heavenly wisdom, but stupid to apprehend it, imd averse to receive it. As soon as they are born, they go astray, and * " Remigio alarum." Virg- t Jer. viii. 7. J Jer. x. 14. Job xi. 12. How keenly is this comparison pointed ! Like the ass, an animal remarkable for its stupidity, even to a proverb. Like the ass's colt, which must be still more egregiously stupid than the dam. Like the wild ass's colt, which is not only blockish, but stub- born and refractory, neither possesses valuable qualities by nature, nor will easily receive, them by discipline. The image in the original is yet more strongly touched. The comparative particle like is not in the Hebrew ; " born a wild ass's colt ;" or, as we should say ia English, " a mere wild, &c." DIALOGUE XIII. 1,3 The difficulty of a religious education proves the human mind averse from good. Ther. " Go astray" To what is this owing, but to the bad examples they behold ? They catch the way- ward habit from the irregular conversation of others. Asp. Is not this a confirmation of my point? Why are they yield ing- clay to each bad impression? case- hardened steel to every edifying application? From imitating unworthy examples, you can hardly with- hold them by the tightest rein. But if you would affect them with a sense of divine things, or bring them acquainted with God their Maker, " line must be upon line; line upon line ; precept must be upon pre- cept, precept upon precept; here a little and there a little."* What farther corroborates my sentiment, is, lhat all these tender toils of erudition are generally unwelcome, are too often unsuccesful, nay, will always be ineffectual, without the concurrence of almighty grace. Besides, Theron, if this propensity to evil be obser- vable in all children, it seems more than probable that the unhappy bias is derived from their parents, rather than catched from their neighbours; and owing, not to the influence of external examples, but to a princi- ple of internal corruption. "f INeglect the education of children, and you are sure to have their manners evil, their lives unprofitable. Nay, only remit your endeavours, and they lose what has been gained ; they * A great critic has laid down the following rule, to be observed in fine writing : 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must be an echo to the sense. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Never was this delicate maxim more nicely exemplified, than in the above-cited passage of Isaiah, chap, xxviii. 18. Another instance of the same kind occurs in the seventh verse, where the language seems to mimic the reeling, struggling, giddy motions of a drunkard, while it iterates and reiterates the idea ; expresses the same thing in a dif- ferent, and still different manner, with an apparent, and, in this case, a significant circumrotation of words. t St. Paul confesses, that he and his fellow-saints were, in their unconverted state, depraved : and this, not ft<* TD i%t>, by custom, or habit, but ^tc-u, by nature. Eph. ii. 3. 14 THERON AND ASPASIO. Sin, like weeds in a garden, springs up spontaneously in the human mind. start aside like a broken bow. And wherefore this ? Why do they not, without the rules of discipline, or lessons of instruction, spontaneously addict themselves to the exercise of every virtue? just as the cygnets in yonder canal spontaneously take to the element of water, and the act of swimming. That bed in the garden before us, will suggest the reason. It has been digged and dressed this very day; it now lies smooth and clean. Not a single weed appears on this surface; yet how certainly will it, in a very little time, produce a plenteous growth of those vegetable nuisances? Whence can this pro- ceed? No hand will sow them; no wish will invite them. But the seeds, though unperceived by any eye, are already there. Disseminated by the winds, they have mixed themselves with the mould, and are sunk into the soil. So, just so it is with our chil- dren. The seeds of iniquity are within them;* and unless proper diligence be exerted by us, unless gra- cious assistance be vouchsafed from above, they will assuredly spring up, over-run their souls, and dis- honour their lives. Ther. Let us leave the children, and make men the subject of our inquiry. Asp. In this respect, Therori, " Men are but children of a larger growth." We may leave the vest or hanging-sleeve coat, but we shall still find the follies of the child. In youth, what low ambition and fondness for despicable pleasures. In manhood, what a keen pursuit of transitory wealth, yet what a cold inattention to God and holiness ? * Whoever chuses to examine the seeds, the poisonous seeds, which are lodged in this nursery of all evil, may see a sample of them in our Lord's description, Mark vii. 20, 21, 22, 23 ; where he cha- racterizes the heart, not barely of the hypocritical pharisee, or the abandoned publican, but of mankind in general. After such an au- thority, shall I mentioned the testimony of Seneca ? We are allowed to glean the grapes, when the vintage is gathered. In such a view I would introduce the philosopher after the Saviour. Ornnia in omnibus vitia sunt ; sed non omiiia in singulis extant. De Benef. lib. IV. DIALOGUE XIII. 15 .^^N^'.^N^'S^^.^^^'.^^'.^'.^S^'.^ Illustration of a beautiful passage in Milton. Men, and men too of the greatest abilities, whose penetration on other subjects is piercing as the eagle's sight, are, on the most important points, blind as the incaverned mole. Ther. What! is the understanding like the most dim-sighted animal, when lodged in her darkest retire- ment? that sublime faculty of the soul ; which lends her eye to all the rest, sits at the helm, and directs their motions! Asp. You remember, I presume, that beautiful pas- sage in Milton ;* which Mr. Addisonso highly admires, and so judicially illustrates. The passage, I mean, where the archangel Michael comes down, to advertise Adam of future events, and to excute the sentence of divine justice. Ther. I remember it perfectly well. In the east, the great light of day lies under an eclipse. In the west, a bright cloud descends ; filled with an host of angels, and more luminous than the sun itself. The whole theatre of nature is darkened, that this glorious machine may appear in all its magnificence and beauty. From this radiant chariot the potentate of heaven alights, and advances with a majestic stateliness to meet Adam. Asp. Should you see such an august personage, alighting from such a splendid chariot, and walking amidst the thronged streets of a city? should you behold every one intent upon his business or diver- sions, struck with no awe, paying no reverential re- gard to this celestial visitant; what would you think? Ther. 1 should certainly suspect, that some superior power had drawn a veil over their sight, and hid this wonderful spectacle from their view. Asp. Such is really the case with all mankind by nature, and, with the generality of people, during their whole life. God, the infinitely-great God, is in every place. Yet how few advert to his presence? All na- * Book XI. 203, &c. 16 THERON AND ASPASIO. r^r*r^*^r^r*^-~*~^-~r"-r-^*f~*^~~*^r^r-r^-** f f-f^-r-- All nature proclaims, the Creator's praise, yet man regards not. ture exhibits him to their senses; yet perhaps he is not in any of their thoughts. The sun, clothed in transcendent brightness, most illustriously displays his Maker's glory. The moon, though dressed in fainter beams, has lustre enough to shew us the adorable Deity, and his marvellous per- fections. The stars, fixed as they are at an immeasur- able distance, and lessened almost to a point, come in with their evidence, and magnify their Creator to a gazing, but unaffected, world. The air whispers his clemency in the gentle, the re- freshing gales of spring. If we take no notice of this soft persuasive address, the tone is elevated ; the ma- jesty of Jehovah sounds aloud, in roaring winds, and rending storms. Yet both expedients fail. Man is like the deaf adder, that stoppeth her ears. He re- fuseth to hear the voice of the charmers, charm they never so sweetly, never so forcibly. Each flower, arrayed in beauty, and breathing per- fume, courts our affections for its infinitely amiable Author. Not a bird that warbles, nor a brook that murmurs, but invites our praise, or chides our ingra- titude. All the classes of fruits deposit their attesta- tion on our palates, yet seldom reach our hearts. They give us a proof of the divine benignity, a proof as undeniable as it is pleasing, and too often as ineffec- tual also. In short, the whole creation is a kind of magnifi- cent embassy from its almighty Lord; deputed to proclaim his excellences, and demand our homage. Yet who has not disregarded the former, and with- held the latter? How few walk, as seeing Him that is invisible, or have fellowship with the Father of spirits? though to walk before him, is our highest dignity ; and to have fellowship with him, is our only felicity ? T/ier. This is owing to inattention, rather than to any blindness or defect in man's understanding. The many works of gepius, which have been produced ia DIALOGUE XIII. 17 r*^*~f**** ,f ,*-,*** *f*jf~f ***~r***^-**-^'**-^***^'^ ******* The difficulty of self-government proves the fallen state of man. various ages, are an abundant proof of his intellectual capacity. Have not the seas been traversed, and the skies measured? Has not the earth been disem- bowelled of its choicest treasures ; while its surface it beautified with towns, cities, palaces innumerable? What fine arts are invented and exercised ; and to what a pitch of perfection are they carried ? Arts that seem, if not to exceed, at least to rival nature. It was the understanding, which formed all these great designs. It was the understanding, which contrived the means, and conducted the execution. And are not those unquestionable evidences of , her very supe- rior abilities? Asp. Then she is like some great empress, who con- quers half the world, but is unable to rule herself; who extends her regulations into foreign climes, while her domestic affairs are involved in confusion. Do you doubt the reality of this remark ? Set yourself to meditate upon the most interesting truths. How de- sultory, how incoherent are your thoughts. Charge them to be collected. They disobey your orders. Rally the undisciplined vagrants. Again they desert the task. Exert all your power, and keejv them close to their business. Still they elude your endeavours. The -other day, I could not forbear smiling at little adventure of your youngest son's. Some q'uick- silver, which happened to be spilt upon the floor, parted into several globules. The shining balls looked so prettily, he longed to make them his own. But when he offered to take them up, they slipt from his hand. As soon as he renewed the attempt, so often he met with a disappointment. The closer he strove to grasp them, the more speedily they escaped from his fingers. He seemed at first to be amazed, then became quite angry, that the little fugitives should so constantly baffle his repeated efforts. Thus unmanageable I very often find my own thoughts. If yours are under no better regimen, this VOL. II. 36. C 18 THERON AND ASPASIO. The wandering of the thoughts in the most solemn duties proves our natural debility. mav convince us both, that all is not according to the H original creation. \Ve apply ourselves to converse with the everlasting God in prayer. Here one would expect to have the thoughts all clearness, and all composure. But here " we are not sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves."* All those holy ideas, which create reverence, or strengthen faith, or quicken love, come from the Father of lights. Should he withdraw his influence, all will be dull, and dark, and dead. It may be we are somewhat enlivened in the sacred exer- cise ; before we are aware, perhaps in the very midst of the solemn office, our attention is dissipated; and not dissipated only, but scattered to the ends of the earth. The God of all glory is forsaken, and the de- votion paid to some senseless foppery. A malefactor, begging his life at the knees of his sovereign; and dis- continuing his suit, in order to caress a lap-dog, or pursue a butterfly ; is but a faint image of the vanity which attends our devotional services. Reason, which ought to correct these irregularities, is treated like the incredulous lord ; who, instead of controlling the un- ruly multitude, was overborne by their impetuosity, and trodden under foot.f Since then the reins are struck out of our hands/and we have lost the rule over our own faculties ; surely we are in a state different, very different from our pri- mitive constitution. T/ier. However insensible to refined speculation, the understanding, when interest is in the case, is ap- prehensive enough. Asp. In temporal,! not in spiritual affairs. Your younger brother, Theron, is a merchant. We will suppose him at the sea-side; within a small distance of the vessel, in which a considerable part of his sub- * 2 Cor. iii. 5. f 2 Kings vii. 17. J Called therefore by the apostle, " fleshly wisdom," and opposed to the grace of God, 2 Cor. i. 12. DIALOGUE XIII. The unconcern of men to their eternal welfare, an effect of original corruption. stance is embarked. We will suppose the vessel in the utmost distress, ready to founder with her leaks, or to strike upon the rocks. If he discovers no sign of concern, calls in no assistance from the country, makes no effort to save the crew, and secure the cargo ; would you not think him bereaved of his un- derstanding, or deprived of his sight? Could you conceive a more favourable opinion of his eyes or his intellect, if, instead of trying every method to prevent a shipwreck, he should amuse himself with picking shells from the ocean, or drawing figures on the sand ? We, and every one of our fellow-creatures, have an interest in jeopardy, unspeakably more precious than all the rich lading of a thousand fleets. Our souls, our immortal souls, are exposed every day, every hour, to the peril of everlasting destruction. Every temptation is threatening to their endless welfare, as a ridge of craggy rocks to a ship that drives before the strongest gale. Yet how unconcerned are mankind ? Where is their holy fear? where their godly jealousy ? where their wakeful circumspection? Rather, what a gay insensibility is observable in their behaviour ? Or else, what a lifeless formality prevails in their sup- plications? their supplications to that almighty Being, who alone is able to save and to destroy ? Was not the human understanding both darkened and be- numbed, we should see our neighbours, we should feel ourselves, awakened into much the same earnest solicitude as the disciples expressed, when, perceiving the waves boisterous, and their bark sinking, they cried, " Lord, save us! we perish !" But alas! in things of an unseen nature, though of eternal consequence, interest, that habitual darling of every heart, loses its engaging influence. Nay, when eternity, all-important eternity is at stake, even self- preservation is scarce any longer a governing principle. What can be more deplorable? and, if we admit not the doctrine of original corruption, what so un- accountable ? 20 THERON AND ASPASIO. Wealth more unfavourable to Jieavenly-niindedness than, poverty. Tlier. This, I must confess, is true with regard to the unthinking rabble. To them may be accommo- dated the remark of Augustus; who, when he saw some foreign females carrying apes in their arms in- stead of infants, said to one of his courtiers, " Have the women of those countries no children, that they are so fond of such despicable animals?" The vulgar are so immersed in secular cares, that one might in- deed be tempted to ask, " Have those people no souls, that buying and selling, eating and drinking, ingross their whole concern?" But persons of rank and edu- cation think in a more exalted manner. Asp. Do you then imagine, that an elevation of cir- cumstances sets the affections on things above; or that it is the peculiar infelicity of the vulgar, to grovel in their desires? Gold, I believe, is more likely to increase, than to dissipate the fog on the mind. Abundance of possessions, instead of disengaging the heart, fasten it more inseparably to the earth. Even superior attainments in learning, if not sanctified by grace, serve only to render the owner somewhat more refined in his follies. But comparisons between the various classes of mankind, are as useless as they are invidious. None, in either condition, attend to the things which make for their peace, till they are awakened from their lethargy by the quicken- ing .Spirit of Christ. And even then we cannot but observe evident indications of much remaining blindness. How apt are such persons to mistake the way of salvation ; to place their own works for a foundation of hope, instead of Christ the rock of ages? thinking by their own performances to win, not seeking from unmerited grace to receive, the inheritance of eternal glory. Which is move absurdly vain, than to offer toys as an equivalent for thrones, or to dream of pur- chasing diadems with a mite. They are also prone to misapprehend the nature of holiness ; are zealous to regulate the external conduct, without attending to the renovation of the heart ; in outward forms elabo- i DIALOGUE XIII. 21 The natural man unable to comprehend the things of God. rate ; with respect to inward sanctity, less if at all ex- act. A labour just as preposterous, as to skin over the f?< -e !f a wound, while it festers at the bottom, and consumes the hone. Give me leave to ask, Theron. When our Lord de- clares, " unless a man be born again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven ;"* when he speaks of " eating his flesh, and drinking his blood ;"f when you hear or read of union with the blessed Jesus, or com- munion with the most high'God ; is there not a cloud, if not total darkness, on your mind ?J How errone- ous was the psalmist himself, in his judgment con- cerning the divine disposals? " So foolish was I, and ignorant, even as it were a beast," or as the veriest beast, " before thee." The voice of experience, therefore, will attest what the word of revelation has averred, That the natural man, be his intellectual abi- lities ever so pregnant, or ever so improved, " cannot know the things of the Spirit of God :'*|| he has no sight to discern their beauty, no taste to relish their sweetness. Nay, though they are the purest light, and the most perfect wisdom, to him they appear not only dark and obscure, but even foolishness itself. Would this be the case, if the understanding was * John iii. 3. t John vi. 54. I With regard to the mysteries of Christ, the greatest proficient^ are but obtuse acute, dull even in their acuteness. What says the wise Agur? an invaluable fragment of whose works is preserved in the book of Proverbs. " Surely I am more brutish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man :" even though the following verses be- speak the very singular elevation and extent of his knowledge. Prov. xxx. 2. Conformably to the experience of this excellent man, I have always observed, that the more enlightened people are, the more they lament their ignorance ; the more they pant after a continual progress in heavenly knowledge ; and pray for clearer, still clearer manifesta- tions of the incomprehensible God. I question whether Aspasio's translation comes fully up to the emphasis of the original. The comparative particle is omitted in the Hebrew. It softens and palliates the matter. Therefore the psalmist, to express the deepest sense of his ignorance, says, " I was a beast," yea, " the veriest beast," mOHJ Ps. Ixxiii. 22. II 1 Cor. ii. 4. 22 THERON AND ASPASIO. The perverseness of unregenerate raen in disobeying the divine will. not greatly depraved? Should it be difficult for your ear to distinguish the diversity of sounds, or for your eye to discern the variety of colours, would not you conclude that the organs were very much impaired ? TJier. I think, you have treated the understanding as Zopyrus served his own body,* when he went o'ver to the enemy. Do you intend to mangle the other fa- culties at the same unmerciful rate ? Asp. That nobleman made the wounds, which dis- figured his flesh. I have only probed the sores, which were found in the understanding. If I have touched the quick, and put the patient to pain, it is only to fa- cilitate the operation of medicine, and make way for a care. But permit me to ask, wherein does the excel- lency of the human will consist? Ther. In following the guidance of reason, and sub- mitting to the influence of proper authority. Asp. The will, I fear, rejects the government of rea- son; and it is undeniably certain, that it rebels against the authority of God. Cast your eye upon that team of horses, with which yonder countryman is ploughing his fallow-ground. No less than five of those robust animals are linked together, and yield their submissive necks to the draught. They have more strength than twenty men, yet are managed by a single lad. They not only stand in awe of the lash, but listen to the voice of their driver. They turn to the right hand or to the left ; they quicken their pace, or stop short in the furrows, at the bare in- timation of his pleasure. Are we equally obedient to the calls, to the exhortations, the express injunctions, of our heavenly Lord ? The blessed Jesus spoke at the beginning, and the world was made. He speaks by his providence, and the universe is upheld. When he shall speak at the last day, the heavens will pass away, and the earth be dissolved. Yet he speaks to us in his divine word, and we turn a deaf ear to his : See Rollin's Ancient Hist. vol. III. p. 40. DIALOGUE XIII. 23 The industry and foresight of the ant. address. He speaks in tender expostulations, and no melting of heart ensues. He speaks in precious pro- mises, and no ardent desires are enkindled. The will, which in these cases ought to be turned as wax to the seal, is unimpressed and inflexible a$ an iron sinew. Ther. The human will is constantly inclined to pre- serve, accommodate, and make its possessor happy. Is not this the right position, in which it should always stand ; or the most desirable direction, that can be given to its motions ? Asp. I should be glad, if fact bore witness to your assertion. But fact, I apprehend, is on the contrary side. I took notice, as we came along, of some ants busily employed on a little hillock. Have you made any observations, Theron, on this reptile community. Ther. It is a little republic.* They inhabit a kind of oblong city, divided into various streets. They are governed by laws, and regulated by politics, of their own. Their magazines are commodiously formed, and judiciously guarded against the injuries of the weather. Some are defended by an arch made of earth, and cemented with a peculiar sort of glue. Some are covered with rafters of slender wood, and thatched with rushes or grass. The roof is always raised with a double slope, to turn away the current of the waters, and shoot the rain from their store- houses. They all bestir themselves, with incessant assiduity, while the air is serene ; while the roads are good ; and abundance of loose grain lies scattered over the fields. By these precautions, they live secure when storms embroil the sky ; they want no manner of conveniency, even when winter lays waste the plains. Asp. Do we improve, so diligently, our present op- portunities? This life is the seed-time of eternity. Do we husband the precious moments like persons sensible of their unspeakable importance ? sensible, * See Nat. Displ. vol. I. THERON AND AS?AS1O. The surprising indifference of man as to his future happiness. that if \\e trifle and are indolent, they will be irreco- verably gone, and \ve irretrievably ruined ? Sickness, we know not how soon, may invade us, pain may torment us, and both may issue in our final dissolution. Are we duly aware of these awful changes, and properly solicitous to put all in order for their approach? We walk (alarming thought !) upon the very brink of death, resurrection, and judgment. Do we walk like wise virgins, with our loins girt ; with our lamps trimmed ; in a state of continual readiness for the heavenly Bridegroom's advent? Those ants " have no guide, overseer, or ruler. Yet they prepare their meat in the summer, and gather their seed in the harvest."* We have all these, yet neglect the time of our visitation. We have God's unerring word, to guide us ; God's ever-watchful eye, to oversee us ; God's sovereign command, to rule and quicken us. Notwithstanding all these motives, is not the speech of the sluggard, the very language of our conduct ? " A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to sleep."! The most supine indifference, where all possible dili- gence is but just sufficient! This, you must allow, is the true character of mankind in general. And does this demonstrate the rectitude of their will? Ther. The understanding may be said to carry the torch, the will to hold the balance. Now the perfec- tion of a balance consists in being so nicely poised, as * Prov. vi. 7. t There is, if I mistake not, a nice gradation in this sprech of the sluggard ; such as very naturally mimics the manner of that lazy crea- ture. He pleads, first, for some considerable degree of indulgence, " A little sleep." If that is too much to be granted, he craves some smaller toleration of his sloth, " A little slumber." If the taskmaster still rings in his ear, still goads his side, one almost sees him, rubbing his heavy eyes, and yawning out his last request ; " A little folding of the hands" at least " to lie down." 23ilh CD'7 p3D Prov. vi. 10. When such is our conduct with regard to eternal interest, how justly may we apply that spirited expostulation of the poet ; " Tantamne rem tarn negligenter !" DIALOGUE XIII. 25 The depravity of man's will conspicuous in his choice of what is evil. to incline at the least touch, and preponderate with the slightest weight. This property belongs, without all dispute, to the human will. Asp. What, if one of your scales should descend to the ground, though charged with trifles that are light as air; if the other should kick the beam, though its contents be weightier than talents of gold ? Is not this an exact representation of our will, when the fleet- ing pleasures of sense, or the puny interests of time, excite our wishes ; even while the solid delights of re- ligion, and the immensely-rich treasures of immortality, can hardly obtain our attention? However, let us quit the metaphor, and examine fact. Suppose I make it appear, that, instead of chusing the most eli- gible objects, the will is so deplorably vitiated, as to loath what is salutary, and to be fond of what is baneful. Ther. If you prove this to be universally the case, you will prove your favourite point with a witness. Asp. When providence is pleased to thwart our measures, or defeat our endeavours ; to bring us under the cloud of disgrace, or lay upon us the rod of afflic- tion ; what is our behaviour? Do we bow our heads in humble resignation ? Do we open our mouths in thankful acknowledgments? Observe the waters in that elegant octangular bason. They assimilate them- selves, with the utmost readiness, and with equal ex- actness, to the vessel that contains them. So would the human will, if it were not extremely froward and foolish, conform itself to the divine ; which is unerringly wise, and of all possible contigencies, incomparably the best."* Yet how apt are we to fret with disquie- * This seems to be the meaning of the prophet, DHD'Q p'"l Isa. xxvi. 7. Not The way of the just is uprightness This sense, in the present connexion, is hardly consistent with humility ; is by no means proper, to introduce a devotional address to the great Jehovah. Rather God's way to the just is uprightness; or, still more emphati- cally, uprightnesses ; is in all respects irreprovable, excellent, adnii- rable ; suited, perfectly suited, to every sacred attribute of wisdom, goodness, and truth. VOL, II, 89. D THERON AND ASPASIO. Man, in his unregenerate state, utterly averse from all godliness. tude ; and struggle under afflictive dispensations, " as a wild bull in a net!" Ther. This is a very imperfect proof, Aspasio, and corresponds only with part of your accusation. We may dislike what is wholesome, especially if it be un- palatable, yet not be fond of our bane. Asp. Should you see a person, who thirsts after the putrid lake, but disrelishes the running fountain ; who longs for the empoisoned berries of the night-shade, but abhors the delicious fruit of the orchard ; would you applaud the regularity of his appetite? I don't wait for your answer. But I more than suspect, this is a true picture of all unregenerate people. How do they affect dress and external ornament; but are un- willing, rather than desirous, to be " clothed with humility,"* and " to put on Christ !"f Amusement will engage, play animate, and diversion fire them ; but as to the worship of the living God, O ! " what a wea- riness is it!"{ This is attended, if attended at all, with languor, and a listless insensibility. Frothy novels, and flatulent wit, regale their taste : while the marrow and fatness of the divine word are as " their sorrowful meat." What is all this, but to loath the salutary, and long for the baneful ?|| * 1 Pet. v. 5. t Rom. xiii. 14. I Mai. i. 13. Job vi. 7. ft The reader may see this unhappy contrast drawn in the strongest colours, by the royal preacher, and by the mourning prophet. Be- cause I have called, and ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded ; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and would none of my reproof. What a crowd of words, emphatically declaring the most incorrigible perverseness ; which is a proof against every method of reformation, against all the arts even of divine pr- suasion. Prov. i. 24, 25. The host of heaven, whom they have loved, and whom they have served, and after whom they have walked, and whom they have sought, and whom they have worshipped. What a heap of expressions ! significantly describing that impetuous ardour, which no prohibitions can restrain ; and that insatiable avidity, which never knows when to say, " It is enough." Jer. viii. 2. If I beg leave to add another example of this kind, it is chiefly for the sake of clearing up an obscure passage in the Psalms ; which seems to have been mistaken by the authors of both our versions. DIALOGUE XIII. 27 Without d'mne grace, prosperity and ad versify equally increase our natural depravity. Let me, from the same comparison, propose one question more, which may be applicable both to the will and to the understanding. Should you hear of another person, the state of whose stomach was so dis- posed, that it turned the most nourishing food into phlegm, and derived matter of disease from the most sovereign supports of health ; what would you think of his constitution? Ther. I should certainly think it very much distem- pered. Asp. Without the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, our souls turn every occurrence into an increase of their natural depravity. Our very table is a snare ; and, instead of exciting us to gratitude, is a provocative to gluttony. How difficult is it, when we flow in plenty, not to be elated ; when we are pressed with poverty, not to repine ! -Have we business in the world ? It cumbers our thoughts, or tempts us to avarice. Have we no business to manage? We sink into sloth, and settle on the lees of voluptuousness. If our schemes are prosperous, it is odds but they attach us to the interests of time. If they prove unsuccessful, we are too often chagrined with the disappointment, and sin against meekness. Even the holy commandment, in- stead of restraining sin, or producing obedience, irri- tates the inbred depravity ; and renders it more rest- less, more impetuous, more ungovernable.* Those very things, which should have been for our welfare (so malignant and raging is our corruption !) are con- verted into an occasion of falling. David, to set forth the barbarous assiduity of his persecutors, says, They wander up and down. They pry into every corner ; they search the city, and examine the country ; 73^ not for meat ; which, in this connexion, is a sense quite foreign to the subject, and very jejune in- deed ; but to devour me, the destined victim of their rage. And if they are not satisfied, if they cannot compass their design by day, U'bn they will grudge 1 No ; but they will continue all night in the prosecution of their purpose. Neither cold nor darkness can retard them ; neither hardships nor dangers can divert them ; but their at- tempts are as indefatigable, as their malice is implacable. Ps. lix. 15. * Rom. vii. 8. THERON AND ASPASIO. The freedom of man's will confined to worldly transactions ; Ther, The will is under no necessity of misemploy* ing her powers. She is free to act in this manner, or in that ; and, if a spendthrift, is not a slave. Asp. In actions which relate to the animal economy, the will is unquestionably free. She can contract the forehead into a frown, or expand it with a smile. In the ordinary affairs of life, she is under no control. We can undertake or decline a journey, carry on or discon- tinue an employ, just as we please. In the outward acts of religion also, the will is her own mistress. We can read the word of God, or go to the place of divine worship, without any extraordinary aid from above. But in matters which are more intimately connected with our salvation, the case is different. Here, as our liturgy expresses it, " we are tied and bound with the chain of our sins." Would you have a person delight himself in the Lord ; take pleasure in devotion ; set his affections on things above? All this is both duty and happiness. But, alas! he is alienated from the life of God. His inclinations gravitate quite the contrary way. His will is in the condition of that distressed woman, who was " bowed down with a spirit of infirmity, and could in no wise lift up herself."* Corruption, like a strong bias influences, or rather like a heavy mountain op- presses, his mind. Neither can he shake off the pro- pensity, or struggle away from the load, until grace, almighty grace, interposes for his release. Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there, and there alone, is liberty :| that sacred and glorious liberty, which is not the com- mon privilege of all men, but the high prerogative of the children of God. Would you have a person apply to the great Re- deemer; apply with a real ardour of desire; as Bar- timeus of old, or the Syrophenician mother ! His will is like the withered arm ; cannot stretch forth itself to the all-gracious Saviour: cannot hunger and thirst after his everlasting righteousness and infinite merit ; *Lukexii.ll. t 2 Cor. iii. 17. DIALOGUE XIII. but can accomplish nothing heavenly without divine aid. till the Saviour himself speaks power into the enfeebled, the perverted faculty. If you think otherwise, try the experiment. Persuade men to the necessary practice. Urge the most weighty arguments ; devise the most pathetic expostulations ; let zeal summon all her force, and rhetoric employ all her art. Without being a prophet, 1 dare venture to foretell the issue. Disap- pointments, repeated disappointments, will convince you, that our divine Master knew what he said, when he solemnly declared, " No man can come to me, ex- cept the Father, which hath sent me, draw him."* Our church, in conformity to this and other scriptures, has taught us to pray, " Turn thou us, O good Lord ;" for nothing but thy omnipotent agency is capable of doing it; " and so we shall be turned." Ther. Are we slaves then? Will Christianity send us to seek our brethren, in the mines or in the galleys? Asp. Christianity does not send, but find us there. There, or in a worse slavery.^ It is doubtless a most abject state, to wear the yoke, and truckle in chains. Yet such, I apprehend, is the state of our minds by nature. To prove this, we need not go down to the lowest ranks of life. " These," you might say with the prophet, " are poor ; these are foolish ; they have not known the way of the Lord, nor the judgment of their * John vi. 44. It is not said the Father drives, but draws: not 'by violent, irrational, compulsive means ! but by clear conviction, sweet persuasion, and inducements suited to a reasonable being. Those are the cords of a beast, these of a man. So that we are not acted upon as clock-work, or influenced as mere machines, but made willing in the day of his power, Psa. ex. 3. t St. Paul says of Christians, and reckons himself in the number, that they naturally served (not &a>to8m?, but SaXivofltg, were abso- lute slaves to) divers lusts and pleasures, Tit. iii. 3. The whole verse is remarkable, and nothing can be more apposite to Aspasio's pur- pose. It shews us what they were by nature, who through grace be- came living images of the blessed God. This mortifying doctrine is often acknowledged by our church. Thus begins one of her public supplications : Almighty God, who alone canst order unruly wills and affections of sinful man. It seems we cannot determine our own wills, nor regulate our own affections. What is this but bondage ? 30 THERON AND ASPASIO. Persons of superior attainments equally find their passions ungovernable. God. 1 will get me therefore to the great men;"* and examine their disposition. Have you not known persons of the greatest intre- pidity, and firmest resolution, hurried away by their lusts, as " a rolling thing before the whirlwind?"! Perhaps, they were bold enough to face danger, and defy the sword, in the field of battle ; yet were no more able to withstand the wanton allurements of beauty, or the soft solicitations of pleasure, than the moth can forbear fluttering about the flame, even though it singes her wings, and is scorching her to death. Others, possessed of a refined imagination, dis- dain the gross indulgences of sensuality ; yet are slaves to their own domineering passions. They are blown into the most intemperate rage, and pushed on to the most extravagant actions, by every little ruffling acci- dent. They see the meanness, which such an un- governable spirit argues ; they feel the misery, which such internal tempests create; nay, they resolve to suppress the impetuosity of their temper ; yet are borne away by the torrent; and, upon the very first provo- cation, are as furiously resentful as ever. Will you call these persons free, because their task-masters and their tyrants are lodged within ?J because the fetters are forged, not for the meaner, but for the immortal part of their nature ? Ther. Let us pass to the affections. These are to the soul, what wings are to the eagle, or sails to the ship. These always stand ready to receive the gales of interest, and to spring at the signal of reason. Asp. O ! that they did ! But, if the wings are clogged with mire; if the sails are disproportioned to the ballast; what advantage will accrue, either to the animal, or to the vessel ? The one will, probably, be * Jer. v. 4, 5. t Isa. xvii. 13. J Inordinate desires ' And upstart passions catch the government From reason, and to servitude reduce Man, till then free. DIALOGUE XIII. 31 ^^^^^^^^^^^-r-^^^^^^ The first propensities of children tend towards evil. overset in the voyage ; the other will be grovelling on the ground. Ther. Desire seems to be the first, which " opens the mouth, or moves the wing, or peeps."* Desire is active as a flame, and ever in pursuit of happiness. Asp. What if your flame, instead of shooting up- wards, should point its inverted spires to the earth ? Would not this be strange, and a sign of great dis- order ? God is the centre of perfection, and the source of felicity. All that is amiable in itself, is comprehended in God. All that is beneficial to us, proceeds from God. Do our desires uniformly tend to this super-excellent Being? Do our wishes ter- minate in the enjoyment of his ever-glorious Majesty? Alas! we are naturally estranged from him ; we covet no communion with him. We are wedded to trifles, and dote upon vanity : but to God we say, it is evi- dently the language of our conduct, " Depart from us ; we desire not the knowledge of thy ways."f If desire is the first-born among the affections, ob- serve it in children. There it appears in its dawn, and has most of pure nature. See, how those flies, exulting in the sunny gleam, vibrate with all the rapidity of motion their little wings.J So prompt and expedite are the desires of children to any cor- rupting diversion. See how sluggishly that snail, crawling forth amidst the refreshing moisture, drags her slow length along. So dull, if not reluctant, are the dispositions of our children to any improving exercise. Rewards will hardly win them to the latter ; the rod can hardly deter them from the for- mer. And none, none but God, " by his special grace preventing them, can put into their minds good desires." * Isa. x. 14. t Job xxi. 14. J The wings of a fly are supposed to have the quickest motion of any material substance which lives. And if they make, as naturalists imagine, some hundreds of vibrations in a second of time, I think there can be no competition in the case. Collect for Easter-day. 32 THERON AND ASPASIO. All our affections combine to prove the disorder sin has introduced. Is our love under better regulation ? How easily are we captivated with a fair complexion and graceful form, especially when set off with the decorations of dress ! but how little affected with the beauty of in- ternal character; with the ornaments of virtue, and the graces of Christianity ? Can it be supposed, that the pulse of the soul beats regularly, when there is such a passionate fondness for fading embellishments, and such a cold indifference for the most substantial endowments ? How ready are we to be enamoured with well-proportioned clay, often to our apparent prejudice, sometimes to our utter ruin ! yet how back- ward to love that infinitely loving and lovely Re- deemer, who would die himself, rather than we should become a prey to death. Tinder we are, perfect tin- der to the sparks of irrational and dissolute affection ; harder than adamant, colder than ice, to this hea- venly flame. T/ier. If our love is blind, our fear has not lost her eyes. Fear is quick of apprehension ; and instead of being stupidly insensible, is ready to " rise up at the voice of a bird."* Asp. The passion of fear is sufficiently active, but deplorably misapplied. We fear the reproach of men. But are we alarmed at the view of that everlasting shame, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall pour upon the ungodly ? We shudder at the drawn dagger, and stand appalled at the head-long preci- pice. But how often have we defied the sword of al- mighty vengeance, and sported upon the brink of ir- retrievable perdition ? Sin is the most pernicious of ail evils. Sin violates the divine command, and provokes the divine Ma- jesty. Sin offers despite to the blessed Spirit, and tramples upon the blood of Jesus. For sin, the trans- gressor is banished from the blissful presence of God, and doomed to dwell with unextinguishable burnings. Do we dread this grand destroyer of our happiness ? * Eccl. xii, 4. DIALOGUE XIII. 33 The sagacity of animals in shunning the pleasing snare, furnishes a strong reproof for man. dread it more than any calamities, more than all plagues ? Take one of those fine may-dukes, which glow with so beautiful a scarlet on yonder espalier. Offer it to the blackbird, that serenades us from the neighbouring elm. The creature, though fond of the dainty, will fly from your hand, as hastily as from a levelled fowling-piece. He suspects a design upon, his liberty; and therefore will endure any extremity, will even starve to death, rather than taste the most tempting delicacy in such hazardous circumstances. Are we equally fearful of an infinitely-greater dan- ger? Do we fly, with equal solicitude,* from the delusive but destructive wiles of sin? Alas! do not we too often swallow the bait, even when we plainly discover the fatal hook? Do we not snatch the for- bidden fruit, though conscience remonstrates, though God prohibits, though death eternal threatens? Ther. Conscience then, according to your own ac- count, has escaped the general shipwreck. Con- science is God's vicegerent in the soul, and executes her office faithfully. Even the Gentiles " shew the work of the law written in their hearts, their con- science also bearing witness, and their thoughts the mean while accusing or else excusing one another.''^ Asp. If there be any remains of the divine image, perhaps they are to be found in the conscience ; but even this is not exempt from the common ruin. Con- sider its light. It is like a dim taper, feebly glim- mering, and serving only to make the darkness visible. Or, if it discovers any thing, it is an obscure some- thing, we know not what; which, instead of inform- ing, tantalizes us, and instead of guiding, bewilders * The instigating admonition, transmitted to Brentius by an anony- mous letter, when the papists had formed a plot against his life, should be the rule of our conduct on such an occasion : " Fuge ! fuge ! cito citios citissime." t Rom. ii. 15. Methinks, I would not translate the word p]a|w the mean time, but alternately or interchangeably accusing or excus- ing, sometimes one, sometimes the other ; in conformity to the different circumstances of their temper and behaviour, VOL, ii. 37, * 34 THERON AND ASPASIO. The unrcgenerate conscience is a false and delusory guide ; us. As false and delusory lights on the shore, put a cheat upon the mariner, and lead him on to ruin.* Consider its operations. It is either dumb or dead, or both. Dumb ; or else how vehemently would it upbraid us, for our shocking ingratitude to the su- preme omnipotent Benefactor? How loudly would it inveigh against our stupid neglect of spiritual in- terests, and eternal ages ? Dead ; otherwise how keenly would it smart, when gashed with wounds, numerous, as our repeated violations of the divine law, deep as the horrid aggravations of our various iniquities? Ther. Do you call this an answer to my objection, Aspasio? If it be an answer, it resembles, in point of satisfactory evidence, the light which you ascribe unto the conscience. Asp. The Gentiles, you allege, shew the work, but not the love of the law, written on their hearts. Some leading notions of right and wrong they have ; some speculative strictures of good and evil ; but without a real abhorrence of the one, or a cordial delight in the other: which far from ennobling their nature, far from vindicating their practice, argues the exceeding de- pravity of the former, and renders the latter absolutely without excuse. No ; you say, conscience excuses the heathens. Rather, their conscience bears witness to the equity of the law, while their thoughts make some weak apologyf for the tenor of their conduct. This is far from acquitting, far from justifying them. Besides, these weak attempts to excuse are always founded * This seems to be have been the case with the bulk of the heathen world. Conscience arraigned, and found them guilty. This put them upon practising iheir abominable, sometimes their inhuman ido- latries. Nay, this induced them to give the most scandalous and im- pious misrepresentations of the Deity ; that they might sheathe the sting of conscience, and find some salvo for their own iniquities, they made even the objects of their worship, the patrons and the prece- dents of their favourite vices. f The word is ctirohohpftuf, not t7rj/*aplvpalw^ not DIALOGUE XIII. 35 and but a partial and corrupt accuser. on ignorance. Did they know themselves, their duty, or their God, conscience would, without the least hesitation, bring in her verdict, guilty. The apostle assures us, that till faith, which is a divine prin- ciple, takes place in our breasts ; " both the mind and conscience are defiled :"* here, and elsewhere, very plainly intimating, that the conscience is evil, and ever will be evil, till it is " sprinkled with the blood of Christ."t It accuses some, I acknowledge ; and it ought to accuse, yea, to condemn all. But even here it evi- dences itself to be corrupt. For its accusations are sometimes erroneous,^ and no better than false wit- ness; sometimes partial, and suborned by appetite; and very, very often ineffectual. Nay, when they do take effect, they produce no fruit that is truly good. They work not a genuine humiliation, or an un- feigned repentance; but either a slavish dread of God, as a severe judge ; or hatred of him, as an inexorable enemy. Ther. Hatred of God Astonishing impiety ! Is it possible for the human heart to admit such enormous, almost incredible wickedness? Asp. You may well be astonished, Theron ; and * Tit. i. 15. t Heb. x. 22. , I Erroneous What else was that grand article in the accusations of conscience, mentioned, with such particular distinction, by Virgil : Phlegyasque miserrimus omnes Admonet, et magna testatur voce per umbras, Dicite justitiam moniti, et non temnere divos. For men to despise such dunghill, worse than dunghill-deities had been their virtue, if done, and it was their duty to do. What else was that voice of conscience, mentioned by our Lord, John xvi. 2. or that confessed by the apostle, Acts xxvi. 9. t Partial Otherwise how could the most celebrated among the ancient heroes applaud and practise that execrable unnatural crime, self-murder? how could their first-rate historians extol, and almost consecrate that diabolical principle of action, pride? And how could their ablest teachers of morality, uot only tolerate, but establish the error, by neglecting to find so much as a name for that amiable virtue, humility? 36 THERON AND ASPASIO. The black charge of hatred of God, proved against the human race. God may justly demand; " What iniquity have my people found in me, that they have gone far from me, and have walked after vanity?"* " I created you out of nothing, and endowed you with an immortal soul. As a father, I have provided for you. As a nurse, I have cherished you. I have consigned over to your possession the earth, and the fulness thereof. All my creatures do you service, and even my angels minister unto your good. PQ you desire greater de- monstration of my love? I have given what was dearer to me than all angels, than all worlds. 1 have given my Son from my bosom, to die in your stead. Would you have further evidences of my tender, my distinguished regard? Behold! I touch the moun- tains, and they smoke: I look upon the earth, and it trembles : I cast even the princes of heaven, when they break my law, into chains of darkness. But to you, O men, I condescend to act as a supplicant. Though highly injured, and horribly insulted, I be- seech you, again and again 1 beseech you, to be recon- ciled." . To hate such a God,| is indeed the most detestable impiety. Yet man, foolish man, practises this im- piety, whenever, for the sake of a vile lust, an ignoble pleasure, or an unruly passion, he transgresses the command of his Creator. Shall I exemplify the doctrine, in another of the affections ? Ther. In truth, Aspasio, I begin to be sick of the subject. If human nature is so ulcerated, the less you touch it the betteiv However, let us not quite omit the irascible appetite. Asp. Of this we have already taken a side-view ; if you chuse to see it in fuller proportion, make your * Jer. ii. 5. t Hatred of God is so shocking an expression, that one would al- most wish never to hear or read it. But it occurs in our unerring book ; is too often exemplified in common life ; and is engraven, by corrupt nature, on every human heart. See Rom. i. 30. Exod. xx.5, John xv. 25, Rom. viii. 7. DIALOGUE XIII. 37 r'^s^^-^^^v*%*N*v^s*%*NX*^.^^^^*s*^v*s^srv The depravity of th irascible faculty, exemplified in the character of Fervidus. observation on Fervidus. Fervidns comes home in a rage. His cheeks are pale, and his lips quiver, with excess of passion. Though he can hardly speak, he vows revenge, and utters imprecations. What is the cause of all this wondrous ferment? A neighbour, it seems, has dropt some reflecting hint, or a servant has blundered in some trifling message. Such usage, Fer- vidus says, is intolerable, and such negligence unpar- donable. This same Fervidus has offered numberless affronts to his Maker ; he has most scandalously neg- lected the will of his almighty Lord ; yet feels no in- dignation against himself. He is all fury, when his own credit is touched. But when the interest of Christ is wounded, he can sit unconcerned, or pass it off with a laugh. Anger, I acknowledge, is sometimes becom- ing and useful. But is this its right temperature ? this its proper application ? Ther. This is the practice only of some few turbu- lent spirits. To saddle their qualities upon every per- son, is a procedure just as equitable, as the madman's* calculation -was reasonable, who took an account of every ship which entered the harbour, and set it down for his own. Asp. The latter part of my charge, I fear, is appli- cable to more than a few. However, let us consider the most calm sedate minds. How are they affected under injuries ? Do they never aggravate failings into crimes ? Do they find it easy to abstain from every emotion of ill-will ; easy to love their enemies, and do good to those who hate them ? These godlike tempers, if our nature was not degenerated, would be the spon- taneous produce of the soul. But now, alas ! they are not raised without much difficulty; seldom come to any considerable degree of eminence; never arrive at a state of true perfection. An undoubted proof that they are exotics, not natives of the soil. Now we are speaking of plants, cast your eye upon the kitchen-garden. Many of those herbs will per- * Thrasilus, an Athenian. THERON AND ASPASIO. The pollution of the fancy. ^^^-^-^r-^^rf^-^-^-^-^j fume the hard hand which crushes them, and embalm the rude foot which tramples on them. Such was the benign conduct of our Lord. He always overcame evil with good. When his disciples disregarded him in his bitter agony, he made the kindest excuse for their ungrateful stupidity.* When his enemies, with unparalleled barbarity, spilt his very blood, he pleaded their ignorance, as an extenuation of their guilt.f Is the same spirit in us, which was also in our divine Master? Then are our passions rightly poised, and duly tempered. But if resentment kindle, and ani- mosity rankle in our hearts ; this is an infallible sign, that we swerve from our Saviour's pattern ; conse- quently, are fallen from our primitive rectitude. Ther. What say you to the fancy? This sure, if no other, retains the primitive rectitude. What pic- tures does she form, and what excursions does she make ? She can dive to the bottom of the ocean, can soar to the height of the stars, and walk upon the boundaries of the creation. Asp. That the fancy is lively and excursive, I rea- dily grant. It can out-travel the post, or out-fly the eagle. But if it travel only to pick shells ; or fly abroad, to bring home mischief; then, I apprehend, though you should admire the faculty, you will hardly be in raptures with its agency. This is the real truth. Our fancy, till divine grace regulate and exalt its ope- rations, is generally employed in picking painted shells, or culling venomous herbs; weaving (as the prophet very elegantly, and no less exactly describes the case) " the spider's web, or hatching cockatrice-eggs :"J busied in the most absurd impertinencies, or acting in speculation the vilest iniquities. That which should be "a garden inclosed, a fountain sealed, " for the Prince of peace, is the thoroughfare of vanity. And even when we are renewed from above, O ! how neces- sary is it to keep an incessant watch, and exercise a * Matt. xxvi. 41. t Luke xxiii. 34. I Isa. lix. 5. Cant. iv. 12. DIALOGUE XIII. 39 r^r^f^r^r^**^***^^r^-^*r^*^*^ The memory impaired and disordered. strict discipline over this volatile, variable, treacherous vagrant ! The memory, as well as the fancy, is impaired ; or if not impaired, is debauched. Why else does it firmly retain the impressions of an injury, but so easily let slip the remembrance of a benefit? Any idle fopperies, which soothe our vanity, and increase our corruption, cleave to the thoughts, as the vexatious bur to our clothes. While the noble truths of the gospel, and the rich mercies of a gracious God, slide away from the mind, and leave no lasting trace behind them. This double perverseness is very emphatically and too truly represented by Jeremiah ; " Can a maid forget her or- naments, or a bride her attire? Yet my people have forgotten me days without number."* If we hear a loose hint, or read an immodest expression, they are almost sure to fasten themselves on our memory. If shaken off, they follow us with a troublesome impor- tunity. If excluded as unwelcome visitants, they force themselves, again and again, upon our imagination. They dog us to the closet ; they haunt our most re- tired hours ; and too often disturb our very devotions. Tell me now, can that faculty be upright and uncor- rupted, \vhich is a perforated sieve, to transmit the be- neficial ; but a thirsty sponge, to imbibe the perni- cious ?f Ther. Well, my friend, whatever guilt I or others have contracted, flattery, I dare be positive, is none of yours. Human nature has received no heightening or adulatory touches from your pencil. You have pour- trayed her foolish and beastly, and every thing bad but devilish. Asp. And this, even this abomination I must not * Jer. ii. 32. t This, I think, suggests an unanswerable confutation of that spe- cious argument, frequently used in behalf of some fashionable and dissolute diversions. " They are interspersed," say their admirers, "with sentiments of virtue, and maxims of morality." Should we ad- mit the truth of this plea; yet the depraved disposition of mankind is pretty sure to drop the morality, and carry away the ribaldry. 40 THERON AND ASPASIO. Envy, the disposition of devils, proved also against human nature. secrete, I dare not except. Envy is a devilish dispo- sition. It subsists uo where, but in damned spirits and fallen souls. Yet, infernal as it is, it has been found in persons of the most exalted character. The magnanimous Joshua felt its cankerous tooth.* The disciples of the blessed Jesus were soured with its malignant leaven.f An apostle declares, that " the spirit which dwelleth in us lusteth to envy;"} is im- petuously prone to that detestable temper. Lying is confessedly a diabolical practice, yet how unaccountably forward are our children to utter false- hood ? As soon as they are born, they go astray ; and as soon as they speak, they speak lies. I said unac- countably. But I recall the expression. The cause is evident. They have lost the image of the God of truth ; and are become like that apostate spirit, who " is a liar, and the father of it." What think you of malice, of hate, and revenge? Are they not each a species of murder, and the seed of the old serpent? Unless, therefore, we are entirely free from all these hellish emotions, we must, we must acknowledge that the prince of this world has his party within us. || May the almighty hand of our God ex- tirpate and subdue it, day by day ! You tell me, I am no flatterer. Should a person who professes himself the friend of his fellow-crea- tures, soothe them into a false peace ! should he bolster them up in a groundless conceit of their excellency, when they really are no better than " an unclean thing?" Shall the surgeon assure his patient, " all is well," even when the mortification has taken place, and the gangrene is spreading? This were to refine the first out of all benevolence, and to flatter the last into his grave. A disputant of less complaisance than my Theron, would probably ask, with a contemptuous sneer, "Have you then been drawing your own picture?" * Numb. xi. 19. t Matt, xx* 24. J Jam. iv. 5. John viii. 44. || John xiv, 30. 15 DIALOGUE XIII. 41 Man's propensity to pride affords the most disgusting proof of his depravity. To whom I would reply, with confusion and sorrow, " I have:" alleging this only, to moderate my confu- sion, that 1 am daily seeking, by prayer and watchful- ness, more and more, "to put off this old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts."* And to alleviate my sorrow, I am endeavouring continually to remember, that, however unworthy I am, however vile I may have been, my adored Redeemer's righteousness is perfect; and in this righteousness every believer is to make his boast. Ther. So then man is blind in his understanding; perverse in his will ; disorderly in his affections ; influ- enced by dispositions, which are partly brutal and partly diabolical. I have often heard you extol, in terms of high admiration, the virtue of humility. You have lavished all the riches of eloquence, when ha- ranguing on poverty of spirit. If such be the condi- tion of mankind, they have infinite cause to be poor in spirit. They must, therefore, have one excellency left ; and according to your own account, a very distinguish- ing one. Asp. Scarce any thing displays, in a more glaring light, the extreme depravity of man, than his strong propensity to pride, notwithstanding so much vileness and so many deformities. Should the noisome leper admire the beauty of his complexion, or the impotent paralytic glory in the strength of his sinews ; would they not be mistaken, even to a degree of sottishness and frenzy ? Yet for man, fallen man who has lost his original righteousness, which was the true ornament of his nature ; who is become subject to base and sor- did lusts, or (as the apostle speaks) is earthly and sen- sual, for him to be proud, is still more absurdly wicked. And since this is the case, I cannot acquit him from the last and heaviest article of the sacred writer's charge ; I have a fresh and more convincing proof, that we do him no wrong, when we call his nature, his disposition, his wisdom devilish/!* * Eph, iv. 22. t James iii. 15. VOL. ir.- 37. F THERON AND ASPASIO. Unreasonable anger a proof of lateut pride. Ther. Why do you reckon pride an universally pre- vailing corruption ? I see no ground for such a dis- honourable suspicion. 1 hope, I myself am an in- stance to the contrary. To unguarded sallies of pas- sion, to several other faults, I confess myself subject; but cannot think that I am proud. Asp. Ah ! Theron, if you was not proud, you would not be passionate. Unreasonable anger always pro- ceeds from an overweening opinion of our own worth. One who, besides his acquired knowledge of human nature, had the supernatural gift of discerning spirits, is observed to join humility and meekness;* intimating, that they are amiable twins; and where one exists, the other cannot be absent. Always consistent with him- self, he links together the opposite vices, " heady and high-minded,"t not obscurely hinting, that those who are easily provoked, are certainly proud. Shall I add, without offence, if we fancy our minds to be clear from the weeds of vanity, and our thoughts free from the workings of self-admiration, it is a most pregnant symptom that we are over-run with the former, aban- doned to the latter, and blinded by both. Pride was the first sin that found entrance into our nature ; and it is, perhaps, the last that will be expel- led. What are all our afflictions, but a remedy provi- ded for this inveterate disease ; intended to " hide pride from man."J What is the institution of the gospel, but a battery erected against this strong hold of Satan ? ordained to " cast down every high imagination. " Though that remedy is often applied, though this bat- tery is continually playing, yet the peccant humour is not entirely purged off, nor the elatement of spirit to- tally subdued, till mortality is swallowed up of life. Pride is the sin which most easily besets us. " Who can say, I have made my heart clean"|| from this iniquity? It defiles our duties, and intermingles itself with our very virtues. It starts up, I know not how, in oar * Eph. iv. 2. t 2 Tim. iii. 4. J Job xxxiii. 17. 2 Cor. x. 4, 5. || Prov. xx. 9. DIALOGUE XIII. 43 '^"^^-XVrf'^SXS^V^^S^^'S^S^V^^S^V^, The most eminent saints have complained of pride. most solemn hours, and our most sacred employs. The good Hezekiah, whose prayers were more power- ful than all the forces of Sennacherib, was not proof against the wiles of this subtile sorceress.* Even the great apostle, who had been caught up into the third heavens, was in danger of being puffed up with pride; in^uch great danger, that it was necessary to put a lancet into the gathering tumor; or, as he himself ex- presses it, to fix a " thorn in his flesh,f and permit the messenger of Satan to buffet him. How pathetically is this corruption lamented, and how truly described, by " a sweet singer of our Israel!" But pride, that busy sin, Spoils all that I perform ; Curs'd pride ! that creeps securely in, And swells a haughty worm. Thy glories I abate, Or praise thee with design; Part of thy favours I forget, Or think the merit mine. The very songs I frame Are faithless to thy cause ; And steal the honours of thy name, To build their own applause.f Ther. Now, I presume, you have given the last touches to your distorted portrait. Asp. There are other disagreeable and shocking features. But those I shall cast into shades, or hide under a veil. One particular you must allow me to add, which, like a sullen air in the countenance, throws aggravated horror over the whole. I mean, an incli- nation to be fond of our slavery. In other instances, " the captive exile hasteth to be loosed. " But here we prefer bondage to freedom, and are loth to leave our prison. Of this, our back- wardness to self-examination, is both a consequence and a proof. Self-examination, under the agency of the Spirit, would open a window in our dungeon; - - ._! . * 2 Chron. xxxii. 25. t 2 Cor; xii. 7. J Watt's Hor. Lyr. Isa. li. 14. 44 THERON AND ASPASIO. The worst effect of depravity is, our aversion to renewing grace. would shew us our wretched condition, and teach us to sigh for deliverance. Why have we such a dislike of reproof? Because we hug our chains, and choose darkness rather than light. Reproof is more grating than the harshest discord, though it tends to dissolve the enchantment, and rescue us from the tyranny of sin. While flattery, which abets the delusion, and strengthens the spell, is music in our ears. Is not our reason, which should arraign and condemn every irregularity, forward to invent excuses, and to spare the favourite folly? Reason, which should unsheathe the dagger, superinduces the mask ; and instead of striking at the heart of our vices, screens them under the cover of some plausible names. A wicked habit is called a human infirmity; insnaring diversions pass for innocent amusements ; a revengeful disposition is termed spirit, gallantry, and honour. Thus our rea- son (if, when so egregiously perverted, it deserves the name) is ingenious to obstruct our recovery, and rivets on the shackles our passions have formed.* This the eternal Wisdom foresaw, and therefore ut- tered that tender expostulation ; " How long, ye sim- ple ones, will ye love simplicity, and scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge?" Even the inestimably precious knowledge of an all-atoning and completely-justifying Saviour ; who preaches, who lias purchased, and who works deliverance, preaches in his word, has purchased by his blood, and works by his Spirit, deliverance for the captives, the wretched captives of ignorance, sin, and death. This I take to be the most flagrant and deplorable effect of depravity, our aversion to the doctrine, the privileges, the grace of the gospel. Beware, dear The- ron, lest you prove my point by shall 1 speak it? * Perhaps, this is what our Lord means, when developing the human heart, and discovering its latent enormities, he closes the dark account with appocwrj, foolishness; implying that stupidity, which has no sense of its misery ; that perverseness, which has no inclination for a reco- very ; both which render all the other .evils far more inveterate, Mark vii. 22. DIALOGUE XIII. 45 To declare man's corrupt nature, is to act the part of a faithful physician. would you suspect it? your own practice. Zealous as I am for my tenets, 1 should be sorry, extremely sorry, to have such a demonstration of their truth. Ther. You are highly obliging, Aspasio, to single me out for your evidence. Yet why should the ho- nour be appropriated to myself? It belongs, upon the foot of the preceding calculation, not to your friend only, but to the whole species. If you was aiming at none but the licentious and abandoned, you would have none to oppose you but persons of that character. Your arrows of satire would then be rightly levelled, and might be serviceable to mankind. Whereas to put all in the black list, to mark all with the villain's brand ; this can never be Christian chanty, this is in- sufferable censoriousness. Asp. Let me beseech you, Theron, not to misap- prehend my design. I speak not as a malevolent sa- tirist, but would imitate the faithful physician. I am opening the sore, that it may admit the healing balm; and should I perform the operation with an envenomed instrument? My soul abhors the thought. I must intreat you likewise to remember the distinction be- tween a state of nature and a state of grace. We are all naturally evil. Such we should for ever continue, did not a supernatural power intervene; making some to differ, both from their original selves, and from the generality of their neighbours. Are they not refined in their temper, and reformed in their life? I grant it. But then it is the influence of the sanctifying Spirit, which purges away their dross, yet not without leaving some alloy. Ther. Here, Aspasio, you certainly strain the bow till it breaks ; since scripture itself celebrates some persons, as absolutely perfect. What says Moses, the inspired historian ? " Noah was perfect in his genera- tion."* What says the God of Moses, who can nei- ther deceive nor be deceived ? " Job was a perfect man and an upright"! Consequently their nature must be * Gen. iv. 9. f Job i. 1. 46 THERON AND ASPASIO. The perfection ascribed to some scripture saints is not to be considered absolute ; entirely cleansed from this hereditary defilement; and their character confutes your derogatory representa- tions of mankind. Asp. Those eminent saints were perfect; that is, they were sanctified throughout; sanctified in all their faculties; no one grace of religion was lacking. As in the new-born infant, there is a human creature com- plete ; no constituent part of the vital frame is want- ing : though each is tender, all are very feeble, and none arrived at the full size. They were upright. This word seems to be expla- natory of the preceding ; and signifies an unfeigned de- sire, joined with a hearty endeavour, to obey the whole will of God ; excluding, not all defect, but all reigning hypocrisy, and wilful remissness. The inter* pretation, thus limited, is of a piece with their con- duct. If stretched to a higher pitch, it is evidently inconsistent with the narrative of their lives. Pray, what was your motive for decorating the sil- van retirement (which sheltered us yesterday) with the statue of Elijah? Ther. Because I thought his solitary life, and gloomy temper, suited that sequestered bower ; be- cause the memorable adventure there represented is, with me, a favourite portion of sacred history. Are we pleased with spirited and delicate raillery ? Nothing exceeds his pungent sarcasm on the stupid and despicable dupes of idolatry. Every sentence is keen as a razor, and pointed as a dagger, yet wears the appearance of the most courtly complaisance. We may truly say, in the beautiful language of the psalmist, " His words are smoother than oil, and yet they be very swords."* Are we delighted with instances of magnanimity? A single prophet, unsupported by any human aid, maintains the cause of truth, against the king, his * 1 Kings xviii. 27. And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said, " Cry aloud : for he is a God. Either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepetl), and must be awaked." DIALOGUE XIII. 47 ^XN^^V*v^-v^^-^^-v^.^S^.^-^^ Elijah, Moses, and Peter, are instances. S^S^^^^^^V^V^V^V^V^V^S^^^^S^V^V^v* grandees, and hundreds of the apostate priests. He ventures to stake all his credit, to risk his very life, and (what was dearer to him than personal credit or bodily life) the honour of the true God, and interests of his holy religion, to risk all on the immediate in- terposition of a most surprising miracle. Do we admire the triumphs of faith ? His faith was, in a manner, omnipotent. He prays, and tor- rents of fire descend from the sky, to devour his ad- versaries.* He prays again, and the sluices of heaven are shut: there is neither dew nor rain for several years. j" A third time he prays, and the windows from on high are opened ; abundance of showers water the earth.J On another occasion he presents his sup- plications, and God makes his feet like hart's feet, insomuch that an aged prophet out-runs the royal chariot. Asp. I commend your taste, Theron; and am par- ticularly pleased with the reasons of your choice. But do you not remember, that even the wonder- working Tishbite failed in his resignation, and failed in his faith ! Eminent as he was for mortification, he gave way to unreasonable discontent ; and, though a champion for the living God, he yielded to unbeliev- ing fear.|| " The man Moses was very meek, above all the men which were upon the face of the earth :"^T yet he, even he was provoked in his spirit, and spake unadvisedly with his lips.** Was not Peter the hero * 2 Kings i. 10. t 1 Kings xvii. 1. I James v. 17, 18. 1 Kings xviii. 46. || Elias, or rather Elijah, " was a man subject to like passions as we are," Jam. v. 17. Upon which passage, an eminent commentator makes the following remark : " This probably is said, with respect to his fear and discontent, manifested 1 Kings xix. 3, 4. O^ova,^ must, I think, imply a state liable to the irregular workings of pas- sion ; not free from the sinful infirmities of nature. Otherwise, it is an instance foreign to the purpose ; does by no means answer the end designed, which is to encourage the heart, and strengthen the faith, even of frail, corrupt, offending creatures. See verse 16. H Numb. xii. 3. ** Psa. cvi. 33, 48 THERON AND ASPASIO. The twilight a just emblem of the imperfect holiness of the best of saints. among our Lord's followers? Yet he trembles, more than trembles, at the shaking of a leaf; he denies his divine Master, scared by the voice of a woman. Look wherever we will, we find proofs of human depravity reigning uncontrolled in some, making fre- quent insurrection in all. It is written on our hearts, by the pen of experience ; the finger of observation points it out, in the practice of others ; even in the practice of those who have been saints of the first rank, and of the highest endowments. Yet they were defective ; defective too in that very quality which was their distinguishing gift, in which they par- ticularly excelled. Ther. While we are talking, the day has insensibly stole itself away, and left us surrounded with twilight : which is a sort of lustre intermingled with darkness ; no part wholly lucid, no part wholly obscure. An emblem, according to your representation, of the re- newed soul, and its imperfect holiness. Asp. A very just one. Even where the gospel shines, still there is an incurrent gloom of corruption. Ignorance mixes itself with our knowledge. Unbelief cleaves to our faith. Nor is our purity free from all contamination. The prophet Zechariah, foretelling the establishment of the gospel kingdom, and de- scribing the state of its spiritual subjects, says, " It shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear nor dark."* This, as to its literal sense, we now see exemplified in the circumambient atmo- sphere. With regard to its spiritual meaning, every true believer feels it accomplished in his own breast. Ther. While you are vehement in decrying all hu- man attainments, consider, Aspasio, whether you do not check and dispirit us in the pursuit of exalted virtue. Asp. 1 suppose, you never expected to be such an * Zech. xiv. G. 1 Cor. xiii. " For we know in part." Perhaps the declaration of the apostle may be a key to the prophet's meaning. However, it is a sufficient confirmation of Apasio's sentiment. 2 DIALOGUE XIII. 49 Tlieron is challenged to try bis own efforts at perfect obedience. adept in geometry as Archimedes, nor so profound an astronomer as Newton ; yet this did not check your application to the study of mathematics, or the con- templation of the heavens. Your brother the mer- chant, I presume, has no prospect of amassing the wealth of a Croesus, or the immense treasures of a Kpuli-Khan ; yet this does not dispirit him in prose- cuting the business which brings him both opulence and honour. However, Theron, so long as you deny the imputa- tion of Christ's righteousness, I must acknowledge you act a consistent part, in being zealous for the perfec- tion of personal obedience. You ought either- to ac- quire the one, or to accept the other. Therefore I shall produce no other arguments for your discourage- ment ; but shall comprise the whole of my answer, in the motto to an Irish nobleman's arms, Try. Or, if this be too concise, I will subjoin, with a very little alteration, the words of a king ; " When you have at- tained what you pursue, bring me word again, that I may go and possess it also."* Ther. According to your account, the most ad- vanced and established Christians are but like a com- pany of invalids. Does not this extremely derogate from the honour of our Lord, considered as the Phy- sician of souls? It seems to make a mere nothing of sanctification, and would swallow up Christ the King in Christ the Priest. Asp. Invalids they are ;f and such will continue till * Matt. ii. 8. t Do not the best of men lament their ignorance of the divine per- fections, their slowness of heart to believe the divine promises, and the languor of their gratitude for inestimable, for innumerable gifts of the divine goodness ? Do they not frequently feel deadness in their devotions, disorder in their affections, and various other relics of the original leaven ! Do they not often complain in the language of the apostle, " When I would do good, evil is present with me !" and say with the earliest Christians, " We that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened:" burdened, not so much with affliction; those heroes in Christianity had learned to rejoice in tribulation : but burdened with a sense of their spiritual infirmities, and with the work- VOL. II. 37. o 50 THERON AND ASPASIO. Perfection of piety in this life would supersede the atonement of Clirist. they are dismissed from this great infirmary, and ad- mitted into that holy, happy, blessed world ; " where the Inhabitant shall no more say, I am either in soul or in body sick."* If the cure was never to be completed, this donbt- less would be dishonourable to our almighty Physi- cian. But the spiritual recovery, begun on earth, and advancing through time, will be perfected in heaven, and prolonged to eternity. Does this make a mere nothing of sanctification ? No, but it makes room for a continual progress, and affords cause for con- tinual humiliation. It reserves a most exalted prero- gative for the heavenly state and beatific vision ; and perpetually reminds us of a most important truth, that our present blessedness consists not in being free from all sin, but in having no sin imputed to us.^ This imperfection of our obedience, instead of con- founding, maintains a proper distinction between Christ the King, and Christ the Priest. Whereas, if we were perfect in piety, the priestly office, with re- gard to us, would be superseded. What need of an intercessor to recommend our prayers? what occasion for an high priest to " bear the iniquity of our holy things ?"J if some taint of the original leaven did not pollute our best services? Neither does this detract from the wisdom, from the goodness, or from the power of Christ. It rather administers to the advantageous display of all these divine attributes. Of his wisdom, in conducting the affairs of his church with such exact propriety, that the righteousness of faith may have its due honour, ings of their inbred corruption ; which, to a tender and lively be- liever, are the heaviest of crosses, and the most galling of loads. Nay, do not the heirs of glory wash their very robes, even their fairest deeds, and their brightest graces, " in the blood of the Lamb!" which, if they were free from spot, and void of impurity, need not be made white in this saered fountain. See 2 Cor. v. 4. Rev. vii. 14. * Isa. xxxiii. 24. t Psa. xxxii. 2. J Exod. xxviii. 33. Id est, expiare peccata, quibus sanctissima cacteroquin actiones nostrae iuquinatae suut. lilts, de Occon. DIALOGUE XIII. 51 Our own imperfections may teach us to be humble and compassionate. and the sanctiiication of the Spirit its proper esteem. Of his goodness, in carrying on the work of grace, amidst so much infirmity, and so many corruptions ; and in crowning, with consummate happiness, such frail undeserving creatures. Of his power, in extract- ing a variety of beneiits even from Thcr. Beneiits, Aspasio ! Can any thing beneficial proceed from an evil, which, according to your own representation, is so incorrigibly malignant? Asp. It will tend to make us lowly in our own eyes. When we remember, that by nature we are altogether become abominable ; that the remains of natural de- pravity stil! adhere to our minds; how must such a view of ourselves cover us with shame, and lay us low in abasement! " Less than the least of all thy mer- cies,"* will be the language of such a one's very soul. Jt will dispose us to compassionate others. How can we take a brother by the throat, and require fault- less perfection in his behaviour, when we ourselves in many things offend, in all things fall short? Every such consideration rebukes, what I may call spiritual unmercifulness ; it pleads for tenderness and forbear- ance to our fellow-creatures ; is a monitor within, and whispers that affecting remonstrance, " O lightest not thou to have compassion upon thy fellow-servant," since thy almighty Lord hath such renewed, such un- wearied " pity on thee?"t It will teach us to admire the riches of grace. Shall fallen creatures, that are taken from the very dunghills of sin, and rescued from a hell of inward iniquity, shall they, notwithstanding their deplorable depravity, and innumerable deficiencies, shall they be admitted into the bosom of eternal love? they be exalted to the thrones of glory, and numbered with the princes of heaven? This is grace, transcendently rich, and divinely free indeed! Will it not reconcile us to theapproach of death ? This, methinks, like wormwood on the nipple, or gall * Gen. xxxiii. 10. t Matt, xviii. 33. 52 THERON AND ASPASIO. Our indwelling corruptions tend to wean us from the world, in the cup, must tend to wean us from the world. How can we be enamoured with such a land of dark- ness, and such a vale of tears? Or why should we covet, when Providence gives the signal for our de- parture, to prolong our abode in these territories of disorder? Surely this must incline us to leave them every day, more and more, in our affections ; and at last to leave them, without any reluctance, by final dissolution : leave them, for that better country, where our personal righteousness will no longer be defective, like the waning moon ; but shine forth with consum- mate lustre, like the meridian sun, in the kingdom of our Father. It will endear the blessed Jesus in every capacity ; as the stings of the fiery flying serpents, and the dearth of the waste howling wilderness, endeared to the Israelites both their miraculous antidote, and their bread from heaven. They who believe this truth, must see their inexpressible and incessant need of Christ's Spirit. The protestation of Moses, on a particular occasion, will be the daily, the hourly breathing of their souls; " Carry us not up hence, unless thy presence, thy Spirit go with us."* For without this aid we can discharge no duty aright, nor successfully resist any temptation. They will be ex- ceedingly cautious, not to " grieve"f that sacred guest, lest he depart from them, and abandon them to the power of their lurking corruptions: knowing that if he abandon them, when such foes are within, and so many snares without, their case will be worse than Samson's, when his locks were shaven, and the Phi- listines all around him. How highly will such persons value the blood of the covenant, and the intercession of their great High Priest! They will no more presume to enter into the presence of the most high God, without a fiducial re- liance upon the atoning and interceding Saviour; than the sons of Jacob would have ventured to appear be- * Exod. xxxiii. 15. f Eph. iv. 30. DIALOGUE XIII. 53 r^f^^f~^^-^-^-^-.f^r-^-^-^~*r*^^-^^r** and enhance our value of the Saviour's perfect obedience. fore the viceroy of Egypt, without the company of their younger brother.* In all, in all their intercourse with heaven, the great Propitiation will be their plea, and the great Advocate their confidence. The im- potent man waited at the pool of Bethesda, and the Syrian general dipped seven times in Jordan. These persons will not only wait, but live by the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness.f They will wash in the sacred sanctifying stream, not seven times only, but seventy times seven. And when such sentiments possess the mind, how dear, O how dear and desirable will our Lord's obedi- ence be! I called sometime ago, our own works worm-eaten things ; and must not these corruptions, if they remain ever so little in the heart, tarnish our graces, and debase our duties ? Must they not be de- preciatory to all our accomplishments; and too much like corroding vermin, in the substance of our timber, or at the core of our fruits ? Should we not then re- nounce, utterly renounce, these tarnished worm-eaten things ; and rely, wholly rely, for everlasting accep- tance, on our divine High Priest? who, in his media- torial works, as well as in his wonderful person, is altogether light and perfection \\ and neither in him, nor in them, is there any deficiency or darkness at all. Excuse me, Theron ; I fear I have been preaching. The importance of the text must form my apology. It is an introduction, not to the records of history, * Gen. xliii. 5. t Zech. xiii. 1. \ Light and perfection. This is the meaning of that mysterious or- nament, which in the grand officiating robes of the Jewish high-priest was annexed to the breast plate, and styled Urim and Thummim. Only the Hebrew words are in the plural number, and denote every degree of illumination, and all kinds of perfection. Does not this very significantly teach sinners, whence to seek their wisdom, and where to look for their perfection ; there never was, in all ages, more than one Urim and Thummim ; and only one person, in each generation, was appointed to wear it. And who is there, in all worlds, that can give us heavenly knowledge, but the Spirit of Christ ? What is there, in ourselves or all creatures, that can present us unblameable before God, but the obedience of Christ? 54 THERON AND ASPASIO. The subject reviewed. rvxsx^N^^-^v^v^sx-^^ or the transactions of philosophy, but to the riches of Christ. T/ier. If my Aspasio has been preaching, I 'can assure him for his comfort, that his audience lias been very attentive ; and though the sermon was somewhat copious, the hearer neither slept nor gaped. However, I should be glad to have the whole reviewed, and summed up; that, if it has been large as the pyramid, it may, like the pyramid, terminate in a point. Asp. This then is the state of our nature. The image of the Creator is lost ; blindness is in the under- standing; disorder in all the affections. In the will, enmity against God the sovereign good ; inability to all that is spiritual and heavenly ; with a propensity to whatever it sordid and earthly. The whole soulis de- formed, distempered, rebellious. And shall such a creature lay claim to those amiable and sacred en- dowments, which may be a proper recommendation to infinite holiness? Is such a creature qualified to per- form those righteous acts, which may approve them- selves to the demand of God's law, and to the inflexi- bility of his justice ? Should he conceive the vain hope, or make the vainer attempt, I would now address him, as Jehoash formerly answered Amaziah. Amaziah king of Judah, elated with the little victories he had obtained over the Edomites, began to fancy himself invincible. Prompted by this foolish imagination, he challenges Jehoash king of Israel, to meet him in a pitched battle ; and receives this ironical apologue, by way of reply; which for gallantry of spirit and delicacy of wit, for poignancy of satire and propriety of application, has seldom been equalled, perhaps never exceeded : " The thistle that was in Lebanon, sent to the cedar that was in Lebanon, saying, Give thy daughter to my son to wife: and there passed by a wild beast that was in Lebanon, and trod down the thistle."* What are we, when we offer to establish our own righteousness, or presume to * Kings xiv. 9. DIALOGUE XIV. 55 Tlieron alone in the fields. justify ourselves before the most high God, but despi- cable thistles, that fancy themselves stately cedars? And is not every temptation, is not each corruption, a wild beast of the desert, which will trample on the im- potent boaster, and tread his haughty pretensions in the dust ? DIALOGUE XIV. ASPASIO was employed in preparing for his jour- ney. Theron, free from business, and disengaged from company, had the greatest part of the day to himself. Which he spent in reviewing the substance of their late conferences ; not without intermingled aspirations to God, for the guidance of his divine Spirit. At evening he went, like the patriarch of old, "into the field to meditate ;"* amidst the calm of nature, to meditate on the grace of the gospel. The sky was pe- culiarly beautiful, and perfectly clear ; only where the fine indigo received an agreeable heightening, by a few thin and scattered clouds; which imbibed the solar rays, and looked like pensile fleeces of purest wool. All things appeared with so mild, so majestic, so charming an aspect, that, intent as he was upon a dif- ferent subject, he could not but indulge the following soliloquy. " How delightful are the scenes of rural nature ! especially to the philosophic eye, and contemplative mind. I cannot wonder that persons in high life are so fond of retiring from a conspicuous and exalted station, to the covert of a shady grove, or the margin of a cooling stream ; are so desirous of quitting the smoky town, and noisy street, in order to breathe * Gen. xxiv. 63. 56 THERON AND ASPASIO. Theron's soliloquy on the charms of rural nature. '^N^N.^^^^^^S^N^ fc ^N^N^S^N^^<^^^S^^*N^S^%X^^^^^^%rf purer air, and survey the wonders of creation, in the silent, the serene, the peaceful villa. " Tis true, in the country there are none of the modish, I had almost said, meretricious ornaments of that false politeness, which refines people out of their veracity ; but an easy simplicity of manners, with an unaffected sincerity of mind. Here the solemn farce of ceremony is seldom brought into play, and the pleasing delusions of compliment have no place. But the brow is the real index of the temper, and speech the genuine interpreter of the heart. " In the country, I acknowledge, we are seldom in- vited to see the mimic attempts of human art. But we, every where, behold the grand and masterly exertions of divine power. No theatre erects its narrow stage, Surrounds it with puny rows of ascending seats, or adorns it with a shifting series of gorgeous scenery. But fields extend their ample area ; at first, lightly clad with a scarf of springing green ; then, deeply planted with an arrangement of spindling stalks ; as a few more weeks advance, covered with a profusion of bearded or husky grain ; at last, richly laden with a harvest of yellow plenty. " Meadows disclose their beautiful bosom; yield a soft and fertile lap for the luxuriant herbage; and suckle myriads of the fairest, gayest flowers ; which, without any vain ostentation, or expensive finery, out- vie each other in all the elegance of dress. Groves of various leaf; arrayed in freshest verdure, and liberal of their reviving shade, rise, in amiable, in noble pros- pects, all around. Droves of sturdy oxen, strong for labour, or fat for the shambles ; herds of sleeky kine, with milk in their udders, and violets in their nostrils ; flocks of well-fleeced sheep with their snowy lamb- kins frisking at their side : these compose the living machinery. Boundless tracts of bending azure, var- nished with inimitable delicacy, and hung with starry lamps, or irradiated with solar lustre, form the stately ceiling. While the early breezes, and the evening gales ; charged with no unwholesome vapour, breeding DIALOGUE XIV. 57 S^-S^SX>^VX^*X^v*X^V*V*V*XXS^SX*X^ Theron's soliloquy on the charms of rural nature. ^-^~^-^-^r*^-^f ^* ^f~ ^-.^- ^-^r~-f ^^r-^r~~*~~f~r^r^*-~r^r no pestilential taint; but fanning the humid buds, and waving their odoriferous wings ; dispense a thousand sweets, mingled with the most sovereign supports of health. And is not this school of industry, this maga- zine of plenty, incomparably more delightful, as well as infinitely less dangerous, than those gaudy temples of profusion and debauchery, were sin and ruin wear the mask of pleasure ; where Belial is daily or nightly worshipped with, what his votaries call, modish recre- ation and genteel amusement? *' Here indeed is no tuneful voice, to melt in strains of amorous anguish, and transfuse the sickening fond- ness to the hearer's breast. No skilful artist, to in- form the lute with musical enchantment; to strike in- fectious melody from the viol ; and soothe away the resolution and activity of virtue, in wanton desires, or voluptuous indolence. But the plains bleat, the mountains low, and the hollow circling rocks echo with the universal song. Every valley re-murmurs to the fall of silver fountains, or the liquid lapse of gurg- ling rills. Birds, musicians ever beauteous, ever gay, perched on a thousand boughs, play a thousand sprightly and harmonious airs. " Charmed therefore with the finest views, lulled with the softest sounds, and treated with the richest colours, what can be wanting to complete the design ? Here is every entertainment for the eye ; the most re- fined gratifications for the ear ; and a perpetual banquet for the smell ; without any insidious decoy, for the inte- grity of our conduct, oreven for the purity of our fancy. " O ye blooming walks, and flowry lawns, surround- ed with dewy landscapes ! how often have patriots and heroes laid aside the burden of power, and stole away from the glare of grandeur, to enjoy themselves in your composed retreats!* Ye mossy couches, and fragrant bowers, skirted with cooling cascades ! how many illustrious personages, after all their glorious toil for Mihi me reddentis agelli. ays Horace of his little country seat. VOL. II. 38. H 58 THERON AND ASPASIO. ^V^S*S^^'.^^-.^V^.^,^'.^.^-V*VX-v*N^_-v^ Theron's reflections on the past conferences. ,^vxv*v*v^s*v^-.*"**'s^s^s^.*-^-*v^v^v^-^v^^^ the public good, have sought an honourable and wel- come repose in your downy lap ?* Ye venerable oaks, and solemn groves ; woods, that whisper to the quiver- ing gale ; cliffs that overhang the darkened flood ; who can number the sages and saints, that have devoted the day to study, or resigned a vacant hour to healthy exercise, beneath your sylvan porticoes and waving arches; that, far from the dull impertinence of man, have listened to the instructive voice of God ; and con- templated the works of his adorable hand, amidst your moss-grown cells and rocky shades. How inele- gant, or how insensible is the mind, which has no awakened lively relish for these sweet recesses, and their exquisite beauties ? " But whither am I carried ? Is not this rural en- thusiasm ? I find myself talking to trees, and forget the momentous question which waits for our decision. Here then let my rhapsody cease, and my inquiry pro- ceed. Does it betray a want of true delicacy, to be insensible of nature's charms? My Aspasio thinks, it argues as wrong a taste in practical divinity, not to acquiesce in the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ. To this doctrine I have always been extremely averse. I set myself to oppose it with objections, drawn from the reason of things, and from various passages of x scripture. To all which my friend replied ; and though I was scarcely convinced, yet I was silenced by his answers. I pleaded for the sufficiency of our sincere obedi- ence; especially when accompanied with repentance, and recommended by the merit of Christ. Neither was this attempt successful. His arguments, some- what like the flaming sword planted at the entrance of * Virgil was so smitten with the amiableness of these scenes, that he assigns them as an habitation for happy spirits, in the regions of Elysium. Lucis habitamus opacis, Riparumque toros, et prata recentia rivis Jncolimus. DIALOGUE XIV. 59 N^N^vX-^S^^N^s^N^X^N^N^S^'S^^S^ Theron's reflections on the past conferences. ^S^S^N.^S^^X*^^*^^S^N^'vX^^'^*^^^s^S^N^S^S^\^ paradise, " turned every way,"* and precluded all ac- cess to life on the foot of our own duty. " At length, Aspasio quitted the defensive, and at- tacked me in his turn. He explained the precepts, and enforced the threatenings of the divine law. So exact its tenor, that it demands a perfect and perse- vering conformity to every injunction.- So extensive its authority, that it reaches the inmost thoughts; and requires obedience, not barely in the actions of the life, but the very intentions of the heart. So inexorable its severity, that it condemns every the smallest offence, and curses every the least offender. " This remonstrance had some of the terror, and almost all the effect, of a masked battery. It was quite unexpected, and alarmed me considerably. To push his advantage, he enlarged upon the infinite purity of God: a God glorious in holiness; who can- not look upon evil, with any connivance, or without the utmost abhorrence ; before whom the very heavens are unclean, and who will in no wise clear the guilty. " To complete this victory, he played off the doc- trine of original guilt, and original depravity : That, besides the imputation of Adam's apostacy, besides the commission of numberless iniquities, we were born in sin; are, by nature, .enmity against God; in all our faculties corrupt ; in every imagination evil ; and, even when renewed by grace,f are still, still tainted with some base remains of the old leprosy. * Gen. iii. 24. t Even when renewed. For a display of this important truth, and a remedy against this stubborn evil, let me refer the reader to a little treatise published by Dr. Owen, and entitled, " The nature, power, deceit, and prevalency of the remainders of indwelling sin in believers." The author's pen is indeed a dissecting knife; goes deep into the sub- ject, and lays open this plague of the heart. Like a workman that need not be ashamed, he demonstrates his point from the unerring word of God, and the acknowledged experience of Christians. Like a compassionate as well as able physician, he all along prescribes the proper antidote ; nay, he shews how the poison may be so over-ruled by the divine grace, and so managed by the watchful patient, as to become medicinal, salutary, and conducive to the most beneficial pur- poses. THERON AND ASPASIO. ^ -^N^V^^^V^**V^^V^V^-*V^S^-,^V^S^J Theron acknowledges himself almost a convert to Aspasio's doctrine. " After all, he bid me consider, what fruits must spring from such a nature? how they must appear, when compared with such a law ? what they must de- Serve, when tried before such a God? These, I must confess, are very weighty and startling queries. If these representations are true, the face of human affairs carries a most gloomy aspect. Or rather, a most dreadful storm is hanging over the children of men. Aspasio nrges me to fly, without any delay, to the covert of Christ's meritorious obedience. This, he says, was wrought out in my name, and in my stead ; this will be admitted, both at the throne of grace, and the bar of judgment, as my justifying righteousness. " This, he adds, opens a way on God's part, for the largest emanations and most honourable exercise of mercy. On man's part, it founds a title to pardon, to life, and every spiritual blessing. This doctrine, espe- cially in such a connexion, begins to put on a more recommending appearance. My prejudices are really wearing away. 1 am almost a convert." Aspasio overheard the close of these reflections. Unwilling to interrupt his friend in so serious an in- quiry, and desirous to observe the issue of so inte- resting a debate, he had hitherto concealed himself. But thinking this a favourable minute, he stepped for- ward, and said, Asp. Almost! and why not altogether a convert? What should hinder my dear Theron from submitting to so rational a scheme, with the most entire ac- quiescence ? What should hinder him from embracing BO comfortable a doctrine with the utmost compla- cency? W'hy should he not subscribe, botli with hand and heart, that divine decree: " Their righteous- ness is of me, saith the Lord."* Ther. If, by this doctrine, the claims of the law are answered ; if the perfections of God are glorified ; if the interests of morality are secured; I must acknow- * Isa. liv. 17, DIALOGUE XIV. ps^-^%x~-^--^NX^^VX^X-^X-,X^XV. By Christ's imputed righteousness the law is satisfied, and God's perfections glorified. ledge, it will be more worthy of acceptance than I could once have imagined. Asp. And if all these points are not gained, gained too in the most eminent manner, 1 solemnly declare that I will never plead for imputed righteousness more. But the claims of the law are all answered. For there is nothing in its sacred injunctions, which Christ did not perform ; and nothing in its awful threaten- ings, which Christ did not sustain. He fulfilled all its precepts, by an unspotted purity of heart, and the most perfect integrity of life. He exhausted its whole curse, when he hung upon the cross, abandoned by his Father, a bleeding victim for the sins of his people. This obedience brings higher honour to the divine law, than it could have received from the uninter- rupted duty of Adam, and all his posterity, in all their generations. The perfections of God, which were dishonoured by our rebellion, are glorified. He appears by this method of justification, inconceivably rich in shewing mercy ; yet steady, inflexibly steady, in executing ven- geance. The sceptre of grace, and the sword of jus- tice, have each its due exercise, each its full scope. The holiness of the divine nature, and the dignity of the divine government, are not only maintained, but most magnificently displayed. Indeed it is the pecu- liar excellence of this wonderful expedient, that it ren- ders all the divine attributes supremely venerable, and supremely amiable. Ther. But are the interests of morality secured ? This is what I am strongly inclined to doubt. And, to say the truth, this is now my principal objection to your scheme. Asp. I shall never blame my friend, for being vigi- lant and jealous over the interests of morality. If our doctrine had a malignant aspect on true morality, I would give my voice against it, and use all my endea- vours to suppress it. But it is formed with every ten- dency to awaken the utmost dread of sin, and affect 62 THERON AND ASPASIO. The interests of morality secured, by the doctrine of imputed righteousness. us with the warmest sense of our Creator's love. And is not that the strongest barrier against the encroach- ments of vice? Is not this the sweetest inducement to the practice of virtue? I am glad to find, that a jealousy for the interests of morality, is the chief obstacle in the way of your assent; because, I am persuaded, it is much of the same nature with those forbidding and mistaken ap- prehensions, which our ancestors entertained con- cerning the ocean. They looked upon it as an nnsur- mountable obstruction to universal society. Whereas it is, in fact, the very cement of society ; the only means of accomplishing a general intercourse ; and the great highway to all the nations of the earth. What is here affirmed, may on some future occasion be proved. At present, let me desire you to imagine; rather, may the blessed Spirit enable you to believe, that your sins are expiated, through the death of Jesus Christ: That a righteousness is given you, by virtue of which you may have free and welcome access to God; the merit of which you may plead, for obtain- ing all the blessings of time and eternity. Then let me ask, will this alienate your affections from your almighty Benefactor ! Will this irritate evil concu- piscence, or send you to carnal gratifications in quest of happiness ! Quite the reverse. When this faith is wrought in your heart, nothing will be so powerful to produce holy love, and willing obedience ; to exalt your desires, and enable you to overcome the world. What says the apostle ? " I through the law am dead to the law."* Being made to understand its spi- rituality and perfection, I have no longer any hope of justification from my own conformity to its precepts. Did this prompt him, did this embolden him, to neglect or violate his duty ? Hear the sacred writer's own declaration. I am released from the rigour and bondage of the law ; I am directed to Christ for righ- teousness and salvation ; that I may live unto God : * Gal. ii. 29. DIALOGUE XIV. 63 Sinners held fast in their slavery, for want of a cordial reception of it. that my whole life may be devoted to his honour, who has brought me into a state so delightful, into a liberty so glorious. Ther. This liberty, I am afraid, will be of very little service to the licentious and gay world. Asp. I shall be in no pain even from the gay world, if once they cordially receive this grace, and are vitally influenced by this doctrine; which, far from dissolving the least obligation to obedience, or weakening any one principle of piety, adds to every other motive the endearing engagements of gratitude, and the winning persuasives of love. Nay, I verily believe, that multitudes in the gay and licentious world, are held fast in the fatal snare by their ignorance of this sweet, alluring, consolatory truth. They find themselves deeply obnoxious to divine justice, and feel themselves strongly bound with chains of sensuality. They think, it is impos- sible to clear the enormous score of their guilt; im- possible to deliver themselves from the confirmed dominion of sin. Therefore, like desperate debtors, they stifle every serious thought ; lest a consciousness of their long arrears, and a prospect of the dreadful reckoning, should " torment them before the time."* But if they were informed, that the infinitely-merciful Son of God has undertaken to redeem such undone and helpless sinners ; that he has thoroughly expi- ated the most horrid transgressions, and procured even for ungodly wretches all the needful supplies of strengthening grace; that, instead of being prohi- bited, they are invited to partake, freely to partake, of these unspeakable blessings ; were they ac- quainted with these glad tidings of the gospel, surely they would burst their chains, and spring to liberty. These truths, if once revealed in their hearts, would, of all considerations, be most effectual to " make them free."t What shall I say more, to obtain my Theron's ap- * Matt. viii. 29.. t John viii, 32. 64 THERON AND ASPASIO. *^^N^*^s^^ 1 s^*X''^N^,x^^'v^\^'v^N^^^*"sXs^s^N^s^*. Father, Son, and Spirit, bear testimony to the doctrine. probation? Shall I point out and plead the most illus- trious precedent ? God the Father is well pleased with this righteousness of our Redeemer. He ex- presses his complacency by the most emphatical words : " Behold my servant, whom I uphold ; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth."* In Christ and his righteousness, God is not only . pleased but de- lighted: his very soul, every perfection of the Godhead, with ineffable satisfaction, rests and acquiesces in them I said, ineffable ; for he has declared this, in a man- ner superior to all the energy of language, by raising our crucified Surety from the dead, by exalting him to the heaven of heavens, and placing him at his own right hand in glory. Our Lord Jesus Christ is well pleased. He esteems it his honour to shine forth as the everlasting righte- ousness of his people. It is the brightest jewel of his mediatorial crown. In this he sees of the travail of soul, and is satisfied: accounting himself fully recom- pensed, for all the labours of his life, and all the sor- sows of his death, when sinners are washed from their guilt in his blood, and presented faultless by his obedience. The Holy Spirit is equally pleased with this great transaction, and its noble effects. It is his peculiar office, and favourite employ, to convince the world of their Saviour's righteousness : not only that his nature was spotlessly pure, and his conversation per- fectly holy; but that from both results a righteousness, of infinite dignity, and everlasting efficacy ; sufficient, throughout all ages sufficient, for the acceptance and salvation of the most unworthy creatures. Since then this method of acceptance and salvation is excellent and glorious, in the eyes of the adorable Trinity ; since it magnifies the law, and yields the most exalted honour to its divine Author; since it makes ample provision for the holiness of a corrupt, and the happiness of a ruined world ; why should my * Isa. xlii. 1. DIALOGUE XIV. A 65 How Aspasio was led to embrace the doctrine. friend any longer dislike it, oppose it, or treat it with a cold indifference? Surely all those grand recom- mendations are enough to over-rule any little objec- tions, which may arise from the suspicions of timidity, or may be started by the artifices of sophistry. Ther. I know not how it is, Aspasio; but I cannot reconcile myself to this doctrine of imputed righteous- ness, notwithstanding all the pains you have taken to make me a convert. Asp. The disappointment is mine, but the loss is yours, Theron. However, let me intreat you not to reject my sentiments absolutely, nor to condemn them prematurely. Suppose it possible at least, that they may be true ; and weigh them in an even balance. Learn wisdom from your Aspasio's folly. I was once exactly in your situation ; saw things in your light, and through your medium. Conversing, I well remember, with a devout but plain person, our discourse happened to turn upon that solemn admonition : " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself."* I was haranguing upon, the import and extent of the duty; shewing, that merely to forbear the infamous action, is little. We must deny admittance, deny entertainment at least, to the evil imagination ; and quench even the enkindling spark of irregular desire. When I had shot a random, bolt, my honest friend replied, " There is another in- stance of self-denial, to which this injunction extends, and which is of very great moment in the Chris- tian religion. I mean, the instance of renouncing our own strength, and our own righteousness : not leaning on that for holiness ; nor relying on this for justification." I thought the old man, I must con- fess, little better than a superstitious dotard ; and wondered at (what I then fancied) the motley mixture of piety and oddity and truth in his observation.! * Matt. xvi. 24. t Milton thought the same, otherwise he would never have put these words into the mouth of a divine speaker: VOL. II. 38. i 6(5 THEHON AND ASPASIO. The doctrine of imputed righteousness peculiarly offensive to man's corrupt nature : Now I perceive, that we ourselves are often the drea- mers, when we imagine others to be fast asleep. Tker. I shall not forget your caution, and will en- deavour to avoid the rock on which my Aspasio struck ; but happily, it seems, escaped shipwreck.- You may likewise assure yourself, that, upon a sub- ject of exceeding great and eternal consequence, 1 shall not fail to use the most attentive and impartial consideration : an indolent supineness, or a bigoted obstinacy, in this great crisis of affairs, would be of all errors the most inexcusable, and must prove of all miscarriages the most fatal. Asp. But still you cannot reconcile yourself. And no wonder. For this way of salvation runs directly counter to the stream of corrupt nature. It puzzles our reason, and offends our pride. What! shall we, not work, but " believe unto righteousness?"* Shall we receive all freely, and reckon ourselves no better than unprofitable servants ? This is a method, to which we should never submit; this is a proposal, which we should always spurn ; were not our senti- ments rectified, and our hearts new moulded, by so- Tereign grace. Let me remind you of a little incident, which you must have read in the Grecian history. A certain stranger came, one day, to dine with some Lacedemo- nians. They, you know, always sat down at a public table, and were content with the plainest food. The gentleman, accustomed to higher eating, could not for- bear expressing his disgust at the homely provision. Sir, said the cook, you don't make use of the sauce.- What do you mean ? replied the guest. Yon don't use hard exercise; nor habituate yourself to long absti- nence ; nor bring a sharpened appetite to the meal. And you, my dear friend, I am apprehensive, have not Thy merit Imputed shall absolve them, who renounce Their own, both righteous and unrighteous deeds; And live in thee transplanted, and from tliee Receive new life. Book HI. 280. * Rom. x. 10. 16 DIALOGUE XIV. 07 A deep sense of our depravity, the proper preparative to receie ir. the sauce; have not the proper preparative for this sa- lutary doctrine ; which is indeed the bread of life, and the very marrow of the gospel. Ther. What preparative? Asp. A sense of your great depravity, your extreme gnilt, and your Utterly undone condition. While des- titute of these convictions, our souls will be like the full stomach, that loathes even the honey-comb. So Jong as these convictions are slight, and hover only in the imagination ! we shall be like Gallic,* listless, in- different, and " caring for none of these things." But when they are deep, and penetrate the heart, then the righteousness of a Redeemer will be sweet, tasteful, and inviting ; as myrrh and frankincense to the smell, as milk and honey to the palate, as gold and treasures to the ruined bankrupt. * Acts xviii. 47. A late commentator, of distinguished eminence, has attempted to vindicate Gallio's conduct; and would represent it as an amiable instance of prudence and moderation. According to this apprehension, this Roman governor acted a part both irreligious and unjust. Irreligious, because he refused to hear the apostle's defence; which was the most likely means of his conver- sion and salvation. As one great end, why Providence permitted the preachers of the gospel to be brought before the rulers and kings, was that such an incident might serve t; pctplvfw avion, Matt. x. 18. for a testimony fnot against, but) to them : that even the potentate* of the earth, prejudiced and supercilious as they were, might hereby have an opportunity of hearing the Christian doctrine, and seeing its efficacy on the spirits of men. Unjust, because he permitted Sosthenes, then an innocent person, afterwards a disciple of Christ, (1 Cor. i. 1.) to be so illegally treated, and outrageously abused, without interposing fbr bis rescue. Here was evidently a breach of the peace ; a violation of the laws. Of this, therefore, the civil magistrate ought to have taken cognizance : however he might fancy himself discharged the obliga- tion of attending the gospel, or protecting its preachers; however he might imagine himself authorised, to treat divine truths with contempt ; and call the striving for the faith, a wrangling about words and names. Besides, if the Holy Spirit intended to fix a mark of approbation, rather than a brand of infamy upon the proconsul's behaviour ; I can- not but think, it would have been expressed in a manner different from xai & -nSur r TctMuatn i/xtXtr. Whieli, if it be the language of applause, requires some more thafl ordinary skill in criticism, to understand it aright. But, if it be the voiee of ensure, it is obvious and intelligi W to every reader. 68 THERON AND ASPASIO. Advice how to be convinced of the necessity of Christ's imputed righteousness : Ther. What method would you advise me to use, in order to get these convictions impressed ou my heart. Asp. Endeavour to understand God's holy law. Consider how pure, how extensive, how sublimely perfect it is. Then judge of your spiritual state, not from the flattering suggestions of self-love, nor from the defective examples of your fellow-creatures, but by this unerring standard of the sanctuary. Above all, beseech the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to send his enlightening Spirit into your soul. For in- deed, without the enlightening influences of the Spirit, we may have the divine law in our hand ; we may comprehend its grammatical meaning; yet be like blind Bartimeus under the meridian sun. It is the blessed Spirit alone, who can rend the veil of igno- rance from our minds ; and shew us, either " the won- derful things of God's law," or the glorious mysteries of his gospel. In this sense, our polite poet* speaks a truth, as singularly important, as it is elegantly ex- pressed ; He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, And on the sightless eye-ball pour the day. Will you give me leave to propose another expedi- ent? which I believe, may be considerably serviceable in this particular case; which I am assured, will be greatly advantageous in many other respects. Ther. Backward as I am to adopt your doctrine, I am no enemy to my own interest : therefore shall not only give you leave to propose, but give you thanks for communicating, so valuable an advice. Asp. It is, in reality, none of mine. It was long ago recommended by your old acquaintance, Horace.^ It consists in keeping a diary. * Mr. Pope, in his charming poem styled the Messiah. t Ille velut fidis arcana sodalibus olira Credebat libris : neque si male cesserat usquam Decurens alio, neque si bene : quo sit, ut omnis Votiva pateat veluti descripta tabella Vita senis. Horat. Sat, DIALOGUE XIV. 69 Keeping a diarj of our temper and conduct recommended. Compile a secret history of your heart and conduct. Take notice of the manner in which your time is spent, and of the strain which runs through your dis- course; how often the former is lost in trifles, how oft^n tiie laUer evaporates in vanity. Attend to the principle from which your actions flow ; whether from the steady habitual love of God, or from some rambiinj: impulse, and a customary propensity to pl< j^e \ourself. Minute down your sins of omission ; how frequently you neglect to glorify your Creator, to edit'\ your fellow-creatures, and to improve yourself in knowledge and holiness. Observe the frame of your spirit in religious duties. With what reluctance they are undertaken, and with what indevotion per- formed ; with how many wanderings of thought, and how much duluess of desire. How often, in the com- mon affairs of life, you feel the inordinate sallies of passion, the workings of evil concupiscence, or the in- trusion of foolish imaginations. Register those secret faults, to which none but your own conscience is privy, and which none but the all-seeing eye discerns. Often review these inte- resting memoirs. Frequently contemplate yourself in this faithful mirror. An artist some time ago took a survey of your estate; drew the form, and measured the dimensions, of each inclosure; pictured out every hedge, and scarce omitted a single tree, which grew upon the premises. Act thus with your will, your un- derstanding, your affections. These are your noble internal demense; of which none but yourself can be a competent surveyor. Ther. It is unreasonable and preposterous, I must acknowledge, to be minutely exact in meaner matters, and use no accuracy of inspection in the most mo- mentous affairs: to have a correct draught of our lands, which are a transient inheritance ; and no map of that everlasting possession, the soul. Asp. Gratify me then, iny dear Theron, in this par- ticular. As I propose to set out very early jn the morning, I shall insist upon it, that you do not rise 70 THERON AND ASPASIO. greatly assisted by keeping a diary. before your usual time, in order to compliment my de- parture. But I now make it my last wish, and my parting request, that you will, for some months at least, keep a diary. You have wondered at my opinion, concerning the corruption of our nature, and the insufficiency of our righteousness. This may seem strange, this may ap- pear shocking, to a mind unacquainted with itself. But, when you have searched your heart by this probe; when you have felt the pulse of your soul, by self-examination ; then you will be better able to judge of my sentiment, and enter into the reasons of nay faith. By this means we shall also discover the sins that most easily beset us; which most frequently elude our vigilance, and baffle our resolution. We shall learn, how to post our guard ; when to exercise the strictest watch ; and where to direct the artillery of prayer. In a word, we shall learn, better than from ten thousand volumes, to know ourselves: a know- ledge which Mas supposed, by the ancient philoso- phers, to descend from heaven;* and which, I be- lieve, our Christian divines will allow, has a happy tendency to lead people thither: because, of all other preparatives, it best disposes them for that blessed Redeemer, who is the way, the only way to those blissful mansions. Now I have mentioned a way, let me suppose you travelling through an unknown country. You come to a place, where the road divides itself into two equally inviting parts. You are at a loss, which track to pursue. Whose direction will you choose to follow ? that man's, who has passed through nei- ther of them; that man's, who has passed through one of them only; or that man's, who has passed and repassetl them both ? To wait for an answer, would be an affront to your judgment. Only lei me observe, that the last is your Aspasio's case. He E cselo descendit, Tu& ftvk. Juven, DIALOGUE XIV. 71 The two friends, about to separate, agree upon an epistolary correspondence. has travelled long, and proceeded far, even in your path. All that circumspection and assiduity, all that prayer and self-deuial, all that fasting and alms, and every other means of grace, could do, in order to establish a righteousness of his own, has been done. But to no purpose. He has also trod every step in the way, which he recommends to his be- loved friend. He has made the trial : can set his probatum est, to whatever he advises ; and may very truly say, with his divine Master, " We speak that we do know,"* and testify that we have expe- rienced. Ther. I am sorry to observe, that the night is com- ing on, and our conversation almost at an end. My regret is increased by the consideration of your in- tended journey. Though business obliges you to depart; it will, I hope, afford you leisure to write. This will be some compensation for the want of your company. Yonder sun is sinking below the horizon, and just taking his leave of our earth. To retard the de- parting radiance, at least to alleviate the approach- ing loss, those western clouds catch the rays, and reflect them to our view in a most amusing diversity of colours. By this means, we enjoy the great lumi- nary in his beams, even when his orb is withdrawn from our sight. An epistolary correspondence has something of the same nature. Letters may be called the talk of absent friends. By this expedi- ent, they communicate their thoughts, even though countries, kingdoms, or seas intercept their speech. You must, therefore, promise me this satisfaction ; and let me converse with my Aspasio by the pen, when I can no longer have an intercourse with him in person. Asp. You have anticipated me, Theron. Other- wise, what is now my promise, would have been my request. * John iii. 11, 72 THERON AND ASPASIO. Beautiful effect of the setting sun. r~^-^*^^-^_**.^^r*~.r-*-^*^- J rr-r* I cannot but take notice of another particularity in that magnificent assemblage of clouds. How they varied their appearance, as the lamp of day changed its situation. A little while ago, those curtains of the sky were streaked with orange, or tinged with amber. Presently, they borrowed the blush of the rose, or the softened red of the pink. Ere long, they glow with vermilion, or deepen into crimson. Soon succeeds the purple-tinctured robe of majesty ; and as soon (thus transient is all sublunary grandeur!) gives place to the sable veil of evening, or the gloomy pall of night. Such, I trust, w r ill be the issue of my Theron's present apprehensions. All his splendid ideas of hu- man excellency and self-righteousness will become faint; will lose their imaginary lustre; till, at length, they fade away, and darken into absolute self-abase- ment. Then the Sun of Righteousness will be ami- able, will be desirable, as the beauties of the dawn breaking in upon the shades of night. THERON AND ASPASIO: OR, A SERIES OF LETTERS. ^** ^C %* -^ *^"^ LETTER I. ASPASIO TO THERON. />r Theron, I AM now at the seat of my worthy friend Camillas ; where business and inclination will fix me for some weeks. This evening we had a most pleasing ramble. 1 have met with nothing so agreeable, since I left your house, and lost your company. The time was just arrived, and the scene was fully opened, which furnished our great poet with his fine description ; Now was the sun in the western cadence low, From noon; and gentle airs, due at their hour, To fan the earth now wak'd, and usher in The ev'ning cool. At this juncture, Camillus invited me to take the air. We walked several times along a close shady alley, arched with the foliage of filberts. Here, hid from every eye, and the whole world withdrawn from our view, we seemed like monks strolling in their cloisters. Turning short at the end, we enter a pa- rallel range of majestic and uniformly spreading wal- nut trees. This transition was somewhat like advan- cing, through a low porch, into the isles of a magnifi- cent cathedral. The broad leaf, and large trunk of those lordly trees ; their very diffusive spread, added to their prodigious height ; give them an air of uncom- YOL. II. 38, K 74 ASPASIO TO THERON. The mind delighted in the contemplation of majestic trees. mon dignity. It swells the imagination with vast ideas, and entertains us with a romantic kind of de- liglit, to expatiate amidst such huge columns, and under such superb elevations, of living architecture. Quitting our cathedral, we turn once again, and pass into a grand colonnade of oaks ; so regular in their situation, so similar in their size, and so remark- ably correspondent in every circumstance, that they looked like twins of nature; not only belonging to the same family, but produced at the same birth. Through these lay a walk, straight, spacious, and gracefully long; far exceeding the last in the extent of its area, though much inferior in the stateliness of its ceiling. It put me in mind of that divine benignity, which has allowed us six days for the prosecution of our own comparatively low affairs; and set apart but one, for the more immediate attendance on the sublime exer- cise of devotion. This walk was covered with the neatest gravel; and not a weed to be seen, not one spire of grass, through the whole extended surface. It stole into a continual ascent: yet so very gradually, that the rise was scarce discernible, either by the searching eye, the toiling feet, or the panting breath. At the extremity a hand- some summer-house shewed a flight of steps, and half a Venetian door. The rest of the building was hid by the clustering branches. As soon as we enter the apartment, Camill us throws open the left hand sash ; and, with it, a more enlarged and arousive prospect. The structure appeared si- tuate on the brow of a considerable eminence ; whose sides were partly shagged and perplexed with thorny shrubs. The spectator is agreeably surprised, to find himself accommodated with so elegant a mansion, on the summit of so rude and ruinous a spot. But how greatly is his surprise and his satisfaction augmented, when he casts his eye forward, and beholds the be ui- tiful meads, which, from the foot of this rugged hill, stretch themselves into a space almost un measurable. Through the midst of this extensive vale, which was LETTER I. 75 r*^-^-~r-^-^-^***-^*f^--*-*f^-** Delightful prospect from a summer-house. decked with the finest verdure, and replenished with the richest herbage, a river rolled its copious flood ; rolled in a thousand serpentine meanders, as though it had lost its way in the flowery labyrinth, or made repeated efforts of flowing back to its source. Till, at last, having wandered more than twice the length of the meadows; having held a mirror to the aspiring poplars, and bending willows ; having paid a welcome salute to several ornamented villas, and passed through the arches of two or three curiously pendent bridges; it seemed to meet the sky, and mingle with the horizon. Opposite to the front window, a cascade fell from the adjacent stream. It flashed and foamed along the broad slope, indented with small pits, and jagged with protuberant stones. The current, vexed and embarrassed, seemed to rave at the intervening obsta- cles ; and forcing its rapid, indignant, sonorous way, struck the ear with a peal of liquid thunder. These fretful waters, let our angry passions observe the admonition, and follow the example, soon were pa- cified ; soon forgot to chide. Collected into a little rivulet, they ran off in calm and silent lapse, till they lost themselves amongst beds of osier and plantations of alder. The river, widening as it flowed, was parted here and there by several little islands. Some tufted with reeds, and the resort of swans. Some adorned with stately porticoes, and splendid alcoves, the graceful retreats of rural pleasure. Some furnished with green embowering walks, fitted for studious retirement and sedate contemplation. On either side of the charming valley, towns and villages lay thick and looked gay; adding ornament and variety to the scene, and receiv- ing innumerable advantages from the passing wave. The whole recalled to an attentive observer's mind, that amiable and august spectacle which the Svrian soothsayer* could not behold without a rapture of de- * Numb, xxiii. 7. ASPASIO TO THERON. f*-^-**^-^-^--r*^-^^r-~r^**^r^^*-^-^^f-^ Pleasing effect of contrast in rural scenery. light : " From the top of the rocks 1 see the tribes of Jehovah, and from the hills I behold the habitations of his chosen people. How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob! and thy tabernacles, O Israel! As the valleys, are they spread forth ; as gardens, by the river's side ; as trees of exquisite fragrance, -\ which the Lord hath planted ; as cedars of stateliest growth, flourishing be- side the waters." We had but just looked about us, when a mes- senger came for Camillus. As he was called to settle some private affairs, I chose to stay in this inviting retreat ; and determined to make myself amends for the loss of Camillus's |company, by beginning a cor- respondence with my Theron. We have pen, ink, and paper, in all our rural retirements ; that, if any thing is started in discourse, or occurs in meditation, worthy to be remembered, it may immediately be committed to writing. I could not but observe to my friend, that, fine as the prospect appeared, there was one decoration wanting; if some grand deformity may be called a decoration. The ridges of a bleak and barren moun- tain, or the skirts of a sun-burnt tawny heath, would give additional liveliness to the ornamented parts of the landscape, and make their beauties strike with double vigour. This also, by shewing us what wretched abodes and inhospitable quarters might have fallen to our share, would awaken in our hearts a more fervent gratitude to the supreme Disposer of things ; who has cast our lot " in a fairer ground, and given us a more goodly heritage." So, a proper knowledge of the divine law, of its sublime perfections, and rigorous sanction, joined with * Numb. xxiv. 4, 6. It is well known, that the word is used in the sacred writings, to denote either a delightful perfume, Prov. vii. 17. or that aromatic plant which produces it, Cant. iv. 14. For which reason, I think it very justifiable to render the expres- sion, trees of exquisite fragrance; and am persuaded, it will be far more intelligible to the generality of readers than trees of lign-aloes. LETTER I. 77 ^^,X^,X^^^"vX^^^.^.^^.*^^^^-^-*v*S^^,^s,^,^. ^ , A knowledge of God and Jesus Christ the consummation of human happiness. a conviction of our own extreme deficiency and mani- fold transgressions ; all this would endear the blessed Jesus to our affections, and powerfully recommend his righteousness to our desires. -The remainder of this epistle, therefore, shall turn upon some instances of duty, enjoined in that sacred system. By which it may be highly useful to examine our conduct, and sift our hearts ; in which, I believe, we have all fallen short, and are all become guilty ; from which, we may learn the imperfection of our best services, and see the inex- pressible need of a better righteousness than our own. The knowledge of God is the foundation of all vital religion, and indeed is the consummation of human happiness. It is not only matter of present duty, but the very essence of our future bliss ; " This is life eter- nal, to know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent."* Yet, important and obligatory as it is, are we not very defective in this divine science? Have we duly acquainted ourselves with the marvel- lous excellences of the Lord Jehovah ; his uncontrol- lable power, and all-comprehending wisdom ; his un- bounded goodness, and unwearied patience ; his im- maculate holiness, and inflexible justice; his never-fail- ing faithfulness, and inviolate veracity? Have we, ac- cording to the direction of our inspired tutor, pursued this sacred study on our knees ;f and sought this most noble of all intellectual endowments, not merely from books, but principally at the throne of grace? Have we sought it, like that ancient Jewish student, with an early application, and with incessant assiduity; even " from the flower, till the grape was ripe ?" Is that scanty ray of knowledge, which perhaps has forced itself through our original darkness, operative on our affections ? " Have we loved the Lord our God with all our heart ? This is the first and great com- mandment. Have we constantly entertained the most magnificent and honourable thoughts of his sub- * John xvii. 3. t James i. 5. J Ecclus li. 15. Matt. xxii. 38. ASPASIO TO THERON. Necessity of a holy fervour in devotion. lime perfection ? Is our esteem for this immensely great and most blessed Being, high, superlative, match- less? somewhat like that expressed by the psalmist; "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of thee.''* Have we been affectionately concerned for his glory, and zealous to advance his holy religion ; troubled, very sensibly troubled, when our Maker's honour has been trampled in the dust, by licentious tongues or flagitious deeds ? Have we made it our ruling care, to approve the whole of our life, and the most secret transactions of our breast, to his all-seeing eye; resolved, deliberately resolved to saerinYe, not only our darling lusts, but even our most valuable interests, whenever they stand in competition with the good pleasure of his will ? In a word, as the hart panteth after the waler-brooks, with such vehement and inextinguishable ardour have we thirsted after a brighter manifestation of his di- vine attributes, some sweeter assurance of his special love, and an ever-increasing conformity to his holy image? Such was the temper of those excellent men, who are characterised in the scriptures of truth, as the chil- dren of the Highest, and patterns for our imitation. This is their language: "The desire of our soul is unto thy name, and to the remembrance of thee. With my soul have 1 desired thee in the night ; yea, with my spirit within me will I seek thee early."-f Neither is * Psa. Ixxiii. 25. t Isa. xxvi. 8, 9. We can hardly tell which to admire most, the beauty of the description, or the piety of the persons. I have desired; and not with inactive wishes, but such as prompt to vigorous endea- vours. I will seek thee ; and early, witli the most vigilant application and unwearied assiduity. The emphasis is very much increased by the addition of those lively words, with my soul, yea, with my spirit ; with the whole bent and sway of my affections, and with the steady invariable determination of my judgment. Thus have I desired thee even in the night ; when both the pursuits and the thoughts of other people are sunk and lost in profound repose. Thus will I seek thee, with a zeal, early as the rising, constant as the returning sun. LETTER I. 79 f^f.f^f^--f^-f^f^f^^^f,f^f.f~f^- ^~ The benevolence of God conspicuous in all his works. such warmth of love, and fervour of desire, any need- less or extravagant pitch of devotion ; but a reasonable service, indispensably due from all intelligent creatures to the great Author of their being ; in whom all pos- sible perfections, with the utmost exaltation and dig- nity, reside ; from whom all manner of blessings, in the most copious and never-failing communications, flow. When we receive, from an absent friend, rich and repeated presents; casks of generous wine, or jars of delicious fruit ; we feel ourselves enkindled into a grateful affection. We honour, we love the person, who allows us such a distinguished place in his heart ; and expresses his cordial regard by such a series of active and tender benevolence. The blessed God is a friend to us all, infinitely powerful, and equally munificent. We are the constant objects of his more than friendly, of his parental cares. Every passing moment is a messenger of his patience, and charged with some token of his bounty. For our sake, he has diffused blessings over all the face of the earth ; and command- ed every element to concur in ministering to our ac- commodation. He has not only adapted our benefits to our several wants; but has given them a diversifica- tion, large as the scope of our wishes: and an enrich- ment, far beyond all that our fancy could conceive. Profuse liberality ! yet small and scanty, compared with his most adorable benignity in Christ Jesus. What if God, willing to manifest the superabundant riches of his kindness, had made bare the arm of his omnipotence ; and struck a most miraculous road through the surges of the ocean, to afford us a safe passage? if, to accommodate us in our travels, he had brought waters out of the flinty rock ; and bid the ravens bring meat to our hands, bid the winds convey manna to our doors? if, to furnish us with a com- modious settlement, he had dethroned mighty kings, dispossessed populous nations, and made the walls of impregnable cities fall to the ground? if, to further the dispatch of our business, or facilitate the conquest 80 ASPASIO TO THERON. Insensibility to the love of God in giving his Son, is sufficient condemnation. of our enemies, he had arrested the sun in his meridian career, and laid an embargo upon the moon, setting out on her nightly tour ? in short, if, to promote our welfare, he had suspended the powers, and controlled the laws of universal nature; had wrought all the miracles, exhibited in the land of Egypt, or recorded in the volumes of inspiration: should we not think ourselves under the most inviolable engagements, to love the Lord our God, " who had done so great things for us ;" to love him unfeignedly and ardently ; to love him with a supreme affection, far above every other amiable object? Yet we have greater, incomparably greater obligations to our almighty Benefactor. For (hear, O heavens ! wonder, O earth ! and let eternity dwell upon the stupendous truth) " God spared not his Son, -his own Son, his transceudently glorious and divinely excellent Son, but delivered him up to the deepest humiliation, and to the most accursed death, for us men and our salvation. O, Theron ! have we been impressed with wonder at the contemplation of this goodness? Have our hearts glowed with gratitude, under a sense of these mercies? Surely, no man need be convicted of any other crime, at the great tribunal, than insensibility of such love, and ingratitude for such favours. This, without the accession of horrid impieties, is enough to leave him absolutely inexcusable. This is enough to prove him one of the most disingenuous and detes- table of creatures. Have we exercised ourselves in frequent thanks- giving? Many are the exhortations to this honourable duty. " Praise thy God, O Zion :" " praise him for his mighty acts :"f praise him according to his excel- lent greatness."f Innumerable are the incitements to * Ps. cxlvii. 12. t Ps. cl. 2. J Among these exhortations, we may rank that beautiful and devout address to God, bNTW nibnn 3U7V Ps. xxii. 3. Thou that inhabitest light inaccessible, shall I say ? the regions of immensity, or the ages of eternity? No ; but what is a more exalted character the praises of Israel ; finely signifying, that praise is a most acceptable sacrifice, Id LETTER I. 81 --^-,x-.^-_*-,^--^-.x--*-^v*s^^s^v^v^v^s^^'^v^^^.^..^. Self-examination on several important duties. abound in this pleasant service. Every comfort has a voice, and cries in the ear of reason, " O ! that men would therefore praise the Lord for his goodness." Every deliverance enforces the address, and furnishes fresh materials for the heavenly employ. The man after God's own heart declares, as an inviting example for our practice, " I will bless the Lord at all times : his praise shall continually be in my mouth ;* yea, as long as I have any being, I will sing praises unto my God."f Indeed, when we consider the inexhaustibly rich bounty of God our Creator, and the inconceivably tender mercy of God our Redeemer, it is both strange and deplorable, that the love of God is not always pre- vailing in our hearts, and the language of praise ever flowing from our lips. I will not suppose our character so irreligious, that we have neglected the daily worship of God, either in our closet, or in our family. But have we prayed with that profound reverential awe, which is due to the High and Lofty One who inhabiteth eternity ? Have we made our supplications with that fervent importu- nity, which may in some measure correspond with the extreme indigence of our state, and the invaluable worth of the blessings we crave ? Have our petitions been attended with that steady affiance, which may glorify the goodness, the power, the veracity of the Lord ? may evidently declare, that he is rich in mercy to all that call upon him ;"J that he " is the Lord Je- hovah, in whom is everlasting strength ;" " that he is the God of truth, and faithful for ever."j| We call him Father : but have we trusted in him, with that unsus- pecting, cheerful, filial confidence, which a child re- poses on the fidelity and indulgence of such an earthly to which the divine Majesty attends with the greatest delight ; inti- mating also, that the exercise of praise should not be an occasional thing, like a transient visit to a stranger's house ; but a daily and al- most unintermitted service, like the stated residence of a person in his own habitation. * Ps. xxxiv. 1. f Ps. cxlvi. 2. J Rom. x. 12. Is. xxvi. 4. || Deut. xxxii. 4. TOL. II. 29. L 82 ASPASIO TO THERON. Self-examination on several important duties ; ^P'^*^^^'-^'*^*^*^'^'^^'-^^^-^^^ .^S^^S^.^^^.^'.^N.^^*^^,^*^'.^'*^'*^'.^-^^^.^^^'^'^^^^.^*^'^* relative ? Have we not entertained, too often enter- tained, narrow, dishonourable, beggarly apprehensions, concerning the treasures of his liberality, and the bowels of his pity? rating them even lower than our parents', our friends', or our own. Have we been careful to carry the spirit of our prayers into our ordinary conversation ; and waited at the door, as well as approached to the throne of grace? Amidst the intervals of our solemn devotions, have we cultivated an ejaculatory intercourse with heaven ? How highly would the ambitious courtier prize, and how frequently would he use, a privy-key, which should give him, at all hours, free admittance to his sovereign. This key of admittance, only to an infi- nitely more exalted Potentate, we all possess in the practice of mental aspiration to God. It is certainly the noblest employ, and will be the richest improve- ment of our thoughts, to send them in such short em- bassies to the King of kings ; and to derive, by such occasional sallies of faith,* a renewed supply from the * We have, in scripture, very remarkable instances of the success which has attended ejaculatory prayer. Observe Nehemiah : he stands before Ahasuerus, apprehensive of the monarch's displeasure, yet de- sirous to solicit him in behalf of Jerusalem. To be delivered from his fears, and to obtain his desires, what method does he use 1 The mean and servile arts of flattery ? No; but the manly and devout expe- dient of prayer. I prayed, says the patriot, to the God of heaven. We cannot suppose, that he fell on his knees, or spoke with his lips, while he continued in the royal presence. But he darted up his soul in silent supplication : which supplication " pierced the clouds,'* reached the eternal throne, and returned not again till a blessing was sent ; such as totally averted the wrath he dreaded, and procured favour and assistance, much larger than he expected. Neh. ii. 4. W T hen David heard that Ahithophel, the ablest politician in his king- dom, was revolted to Absalom ; sensible what a loss his affairs had sus- tained, and what an advantage the rebellious party had acquired, he betook himself to his God. He staid not for an opportunity of retire- ment, but instantly and upon the spot cried, " O Lord, 1 pray thee turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness !" A short address, but very efficacious. He, who disappointeth the devices of the crafty, sent a spirit of infatuation among the rebels, and inclined them to re- ject the advice of that judicious statesman. Which false step brought upon their horrid enterprise the ruin it deserved ; and chagrined the LETTER I. 83 designed to promote conviction of sin. fountain of all good. How great a loss then must it be to our spiritual interests, and how contemptuous a disregard of the ever-present Jehovah, to omit entirely, or long to discontinue, this most beneficial practice of habitual adoration ? Can you, my dear Theron, acquit yourself on this article of inquiry? Has not every day of your life been a day of negligence in this re- spect ; been a perpetual disobedience to our Saviour's injunction, " Men ought in this manner, always to pray, and not to faint?"* Have we sanctified the Sabbath ? Has the Lord's day, with all its solemn and sacred offices, been our delight? Have we remembered that distinguished portion of our time, as Jacob remembered the delight- ful interview at Peniel ? Have we expected it, as merchants expect the arrival of a richly laden vessel ? Have we improved it, as husbandmen improve the shining hours of the harvest ? Have we wholly laid aside every earthly engagement ; " not speaking our own words,"f nor allowing ourselves in any gratifica- tions, that may interrupt our communion with the Father of spirits? " Has one day in his courts been preferable to a thousand,"! spent either in the works of wretched traitor, even to rage, frenzy, aud suicide, 2 Sam. xv. 31. xvii. 23. Arayntor, at a memorable period of his life, was under great distress of conscience, and harassed by violent temptations. He made his case known to an experienced friend ; who said, Amyntor, you do not pray. Surprised at this, he replied, " I pray, if such a thing be possible, too much. I can hardly tell, how many times in the day I bow my knee before God ; almost to the omission of my other duties, and the neglect of my necessary studies?" " You mistake my mean- ing, dear Amyntor. I do not refer you to the ceremony of the knee, but to the devotion of the heart ; which neglects not any business, but iutermingles prayer with all; which in every place looks unto the Lord ; aud, on every occasion, lifts up an indigent longing soul for the supply of his grace. This, (added he, and spoke with a peculiar ve- hemence^ this is the prayer which all the devils in hell cannot with- stand." This, I would further observe, is the prayer which brings down somewhat of heaven into the heart; in which I would myself d$ sire to abound, and would earnestly recommend to all my acqua tance, and all my readers. * Luke xviii, I. t Is. lviii< 13. { Ps. Ixxxiv. 10, 84 ASPASIO TO THERON. Self-examination ou several important duties ; ^.^ ^*^^r^~ **-** ~f^*~-r^-^^r- ^-~*~~*~~***r**f~~r*~*-~* our calling, or in the scenes of recreation? Have the memorials of our Redeemer's dying merits, and the seals of his unchangeable loving kindness, been relish- ed as a feast, and prized as a portion ? Have we honoured God's holy word ? What grea- ter mark of disesteem, than to despise a person's dis- course, and not to think his speech worthy of our notice ? especially when he addresses us with very great seriousness, and with the utmost affection. In our Bible, the God of glory speaks to his creatures ; speaks with the most persuasive energy, and with all the yearnings of parental tenderness. Have we lis- tened to our Creator with reverence and delight ; and rejoiced with trembling at " Thus saith the Lord?" Have we searched the oracles of truth, not merely as scholars, but as sinners ? not from a spirit of curio- sity, or with an air of formality, but with a solicitude and ardour becoming persons who inquire after the Saviour of their lost souls? Have we submitted our inmost thoughts to their impartial scrutiny; to receive conviction of sin from their awful remonstrances, and to hear the sentence of condemnation at their righteous bar? Have you been willing to suffer the reproach of conscious baseness, while they have ripped up the disguises of falsehood ; laid open our secret iniquities; and brought all our evil ways to remembrance ? Thus Josiah acted. " His heart was tender, and he hum- bled himself before the Lord ; he rent his clothes, and went before the Lord, when he heard the words of the book of the law."* Have we hid the glad tidings of the gospel within our memories, within our hearts? Have we been diligent to suck this " honeycomb"! of grace by con- comitant meditation, and subsequent prayer? Have we valued the precious promises, as gentlemen of wealth value the writings of their private estates; or as enfranchised bodies esteem the charter of their pub- lic privileges? Have we, like the princely patriarch, * 2 Chron. xxxiv. 27. t Cant. v. 1. LETTER I. 85 ^^-'^-^^^^^-^^^^^ *'**' designed to promote conviction of sin. longed for those words of edification, exhortation, and comfort, more than for our necessary food?* and, like the royal prophet, prevented the night watches, that we might he occupied in those statutes and ordinances of heaven ?f We have hitherto confined the examination to a few instances of the affirmative kind ; how dreadfully will the dark account be swelled, if, instead of love and obedience, there be hatred and opposition ? Hatred of the name, glory, and worship ! opposition to his interest, kingdom and service! God is infinite perfection ; worthy of all admiration; exalted above all praise. Yet do not our thoughts more frequently, or more naturally, turn upon our own accomplishments, than upon the adorable and shining attributes of the Almighty. This is, in itself, the most shameful dotage ; and, in God's sight, the most abominable idolatry. Yet let us observe what passes within, and we shall probably find, that as damps arise in the mines, or fogs in the fenny grounds, so naturally and so copiously do these over-weening reflections arise in our depraved minds. God is an everlasting King. Have we not too often resisted his authority ? Have we not, as far as in us lay, deposed the omnipotent Sovereign, and exalted self into the throne ; made self-will our law, and self-pleasing our end : thus adding sacrilege to rebellion ? God is transcendently gracious and amiable. Have we not turned our backs upon him, by forgetting his mercies ? Nay, have we not spurned him from our affections, by being " lovers of pleasure, more than lovers of God !"J Awake, conscience, bear thy im- partial testimony ; and 1 am persuaded, the pharisee in our breasts, like the man unfurnished with the wedding-garment, must be struck dumb; must be covered with confusion. Are our hearts warm with brotherly love? Good * Job xxii. 12. t Psa. cxix. 148. \ 2 Tim. iii. 4. 86 ASPASIO TO THERON. ^S^^^^S^.^N^^^^.^N^S^^^.^.^-^s^s^x.^-v^ Self-examination on several important duties ; N^N^V^^XS^N.^S^.^Ni^^*^N^ fc s^N^SXN^S.^S^V^S^N^Si^ manners will put expressions of civility into our mouths ; but has a power from on high implanted the royal law of charity in our breasts ? The charac- ter of a gentleman requires a deportment accessible, obliging, and courteous : has the spirit of Christianity taught us to love, not in word or plausible appear- ance only, " but in deed and in truth !* Do we love our neighbours, not merely on account of some rela- tion they bear us, or some services they have done us; but because they are creatures of the blessed God, are the objects of his providential care, and capa- ble at least of being conformed to his image? Do we love them, because we hope that the Lord Jesus Christ has bought them with his blood ; is willing to make them partakers of his Spirit, and members of his mystical body ? Are we sincerely concerned for their present wel- fare, and their eternal happiness? Do we embrace all opportunities of promoting both the one and the other ; embrace them with the same alacrity, and im- prove them with the same zeal, which actuate us. in seeking our own felicity ? If they exceed us in all that is amiable, and all that is prosperous, do we contemplate their superior excellence with a real com- placency, and their more abundant success with a real satisfaction ? Do we dislike to hear, and abhor to spread, defa- matory tales; even when our adversaries are tfje men whom they tend to blacken? When rudely affronted, or causelessly abused, do we pity the offenders for the wrong done to their own souls ; rather than kindle into resentment at the indignity offered to ourselves? When greatly injured, are we slow to anger, and not easily provoked ? Are we much more willing to be reconciled, than to foment displeasure, and prose- cute revenge? In a word, do we " love our enemies; bless them that curse us ; do good to them that hate us ; and pray for them which despitefully use us, * I John Hi. 18. LETTER I. designed to promote conviction of sin. r-^-^-^r--***-^* jr-^r-^^- ^-^- **--* ^-*~^*^*-~**~ and persecute us ?"* Without this loving and lovely disposition, we abide, says the apostle, in death ;f are destitute of spiritual, and have no title to eternal life. Let me add, are all our graces, and all our works, clothed with humility? This should be the dress, in which they severally appear ; as well as the bond of connexion, which unites them all.;}; Do we maintain a very low opinion of our own accomplishments, and " in honour prefer others to ourselves ?" habitually sensible, that we are less than the least of the divine mercies, and the very chiefest of sinners ? I might easily have branched out the preceding sub- jects into a much greater variety of interrogatory arti- cles. But I intend only to present you with a speci- men. Your own meditations will enlarge the sketch, and supply what is defective. Only let me beg of you, my dear friend, to try your state by this touch- stone; to prove your conduct by this standard. And may the Father of lights give you an understanding, to discern the exact purity and sublime perfection of his holy law ! Have you lived in the uninterrupted observance of all these duties ; avoiding whatever is forbidden, and obeying whatever is commanded? Your outward behaviour, I know, has been free from notorious vio- lations ; but has your inward temper been preserved from alt ungodly motions, and from every irregular desire? Is there no enmity in your heart to any of the precepts ; nor any backwardness, nor any failure, in performing each and every injunction? * Matt. v. 44. " What manner of love is this V How disinter- ested ! how extensive ! how triumphant ! Must not all the boasted benevolence of the philosopher and moralist, strike sail to this evan- gelical charity 1 Must not both moralist and philosopher acknow- ledge the necessity of a divine operation, thus to enlarge, exalt, and refine their social affections? t John iii. 14. I 1 Pet. v. 5. The unusual word thopguffxirQe is supposed to have both these significations. Rora, xii. 10. 88 ASPASIO TO THERON. The divine law, though strict, has no terrors for the true believer. When you put these questions to yourself, remem- ber, that if you fail in one point, or in any degree, you are guilty of all.* If your conformity be not per- severing as well as perfect, you incur the penalty, and are abandoned to the curse. You stand charged, be- fore the Judge of the world, with all the guilt of all your sins, both original and actual: and there is not one circumstance, nor one aggravation, of any of your iniquities, overlooked or forgotten, unless, renoun- cing all your personal performances, you place your whole affiance on a Saviour's atonement, and a Saviour's righteousness. I think you will not dare to put the issue of your everlasting state upon the former foot- ing; which is not only hazardous, but must be inevi- tably ruinous. You will infinitely rather choose to acknowledge yourself a poor insolvent; and plead the unsearchable riches of your Redeemer's obedience. To those who believe, the law, though strict, is not terrible. Because, be its precepts of holiness ever scr extensive, they have been most completely fulfilled by their glorious Surety. Be its penal sanctions ever so rigorous, they have been satisfied to the utmost by their great Mediator. Believers, therefore, may make their boast of their adorable Sponsor. They may " sit under his shadow with great delight."f While the thunderings of mount Sinai, and all the terrors of the legal dispensation, tend only to increase and quicken the refreshing sense of their safety. Just as the pos- sessor of a plentiful estate, in some peaceful and pros- perous country, reposes himself under the shade of his vine, or the shelter of his fig-tree ; and, hearing of the wars which embroil, or the plagues which depopu- late other nations, tastes, with augmented relish, his own felicity. Let me close with the affectionate and emphatical wish of an inspired epistolary writer ; " That the Lord of peace may give my dear Theron peace always by all means !"J Then I shall think my wishes are * Jam. ii. 10. Gal. iii. 10. t Cant. ii. J 2 Thess. iii. 10. Q LETTER II. 89 *^*^sxv*-.xvx~^-,^^v^.^v. Summary of the preceding letter. accomplishing, and this blessing is at the door, when he sees the purity of the divine law, sees the depra- vity of his own nature, and the impossibility of be- ing justified, without an interest in the great Medi- ator's righteousness : That righteousness, which, as it is the only hope, and the constant joy, is therefore the darling theme of Your ever faithful ASPASIO. P. S. Shall I abridge the preceding letter, and con- tract the whole into these two great commandments, which made the first awakening impressions on my own mind ? " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart : Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thy- self." Amazing! said your Aspasio. Are these the commands of God ; as obligatory as the prohibition of adultery, or the observation of the Sabbath ? Then has my whole life been a continual act of disobedi- ence. Not a day, no, not an hour, in which I have performed my duty. This conviction struck me, as the hand-writing upon the wall struck the presumptuous monarch. It pursued me, as Saul pursued the Christians, not only to my own house, but even to distant cities ; nor ever gave up the great controversy, till, under the influence of the Spirit, it brought me " weary and heavy laden" t6 Jesus Christ. LETTER II. THERON TO ASPASIO. Dear Aspasio, MORE than three weeks are elapsed, since you fa- voured me with your improving company. During which interval, I have frequently recollected the most VOL. II. 39. M 90 THERON TO ASPASIO. Theron, convinced of the iniquity of his heart and life, material parts of our late discourses. 1 have care- fully considered, both the doctrines yon advanced, and the answers you returned to my several objections I have often reviewed your valuable letter : have used it as a touch-stone, to examine my state ; and have, with great punctuality, observed your parting advice. I have sat every evening, for a picture of my mind ; and have endeavoured to take a true unflattering draught of all its distinguishing qualities. And if the diary is a faithful mirror, if it does not aggravate the deformity of my features, I shall be absolutely out of conceit with myself: 1 shall ever entertain the meanest opinion of my own, either moral or religious qualifi- cations. Where is that intense and supreme love of God, which his transcendent perfections challenge, and his ineffable goodness claims ? Where that firm and joy- ful reliance on Christ Jesus, in any degree propor- tioned to his infinite merits and inviolable promises? Where that cordial and tender affection for my fellow-christians, which is due to the servants of a divine Redeemer; the people, whom he ransomed by his agonies, and purchased with his very blood ? Where is the incense of holy contemplation and re- fined desire ? where the flame of fervent devotion and ever-active zeal? such as become the living temple of God, in which his most immaculate and glorious Spirit vouchsafes to reside? These fundamental graces, like the grand organs in the animal system, should impart health to the soul, and spread the beauty of holiness through all the conversation. But these, alas ! far from beating with a vigorous and uniform pulse, hardly heave with life; only just struggle, now and then, with some faint, intermitted, uneven throws. How seldom do my actions spring from gratitude to the everlasting Benefactor, or aim at the glory of his superexcellent Majesty? In addressing the King immortal, invisible, how languid are my affections, and wandering is my attention ? how great my mi- LETTER II. 91 r^-^^r^^**-^-^r-*-^^r*r^- s^s^.^s^ sees the necessity of a better righteousness than his own. belief, and how little my reverential awe? I receive innumerable mercies ; but where are my returns of correspondent thankfulness? I am visited with many gracious chastisements ; but without proper resigna- tion, or due improvement. Alas! for my heartless devotions, my lifeless virtue, and the multitude of my refined iniquities! Hid behind the mask of outward decency, and some customary forms of religion, I was altogether unacquainted with my spiritual state. I fancied myself " rich and increased with goods, and to have need of nothing: even while I was wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked."* If I look back, and review the years of youth and manhood ; what has been the tenor, what is the aspect ot 'my life? More like a desolate and horrid wilder- ness, than a cultivated garden, or a fruitful vineyard. In youth, what sordid gratifications of appetite ! In manhood, what base compliance with a wicked world! In both, what shoals of evil inclinations have pol- luted my heart; what swarms of vain imaginations have debased my thoughts ; what frothy and unpro- fitable words have dropt from my lips! By all which, how have I disobeyed, and how dishonoured God! how have I denied, and how crucified the Lord Jesus Christ! and yet supposed myself, all the while, to be good enough ! It is something unaccountable, that a person of my inquisitive disposition should, through the course of so many years, be an utter stranger to himself. I wonder at my own preposterous folly! To travel into foreign countries, and visit the most renowned cities of Europe; yet never step over the threshold, nor look within the apartments of my own breast! To carry on a correspondence with my friends, even in. the remotest nations ; and never enter upon a con- ference, nor hold any intelligence with my own heart! To inquire after news from the fleet, news from the army, news from the court; yet exercise neither cu- * Rev. iv. 7. 92 THERON TO ASPASIO. Thcron, convinced of the iniquity of his heart and life, riosity nor care, with regard to the hope of heaven, and the concerns of eternity ! What egregious mis- conduct is this! A most pernicious error in the eco- nomy of religious life. Sometimes I have cast a transient glance on my outward behaviour; but never extended my search to the delinquent, the traitor, the rebel within. And even my outward behaviour has been surveyed, with as much erroneous partiality, as superficial levity. It has been compared, not with that exact and sub- lime standard, the scriptures of truth : but, as in the case of the self-deceiving pharisee, with the unjust, extortionate, and adulterous practices of some other people. From whence I most unwarrantably con- cluded, that, being not quite so abandoned as the most profligate creatures, my character must be good, and my condition safe. But thanks to your last friendly letter, and the searching expedient it recommended, I am now in a different way of thinking. It is strange to recollect, and indeed it is shameful to confess, the many artifices which I have used to put a cheat upon myself. Sometimes I have fancied, that the divine law could never be so strict, as to con- demn us inexorably, if we continue not in all its pre- cepts. Sometimes I have pleaded the infirmity of our nature, and endeavoured to make the works of darkness appear only as pitiable failings. Sometimes I have taken refuge in the excellency of our church, and plumed myself with the borrowed feathers of a religious profession. At other times, I have soothed my conscience to rest, by a punctuality of attendance on places, or a zealous attachment to forms. And all this, to seduce, cajole, and betray myself: betray myself, first into a vain conceit of my own endow- ments ; then into a contemptuous disregard of Christ ; and at last into eternal destruction. But now I see my guilt. I apprehend my danger, and feel uay help- less condition. Indeed, my Aspasio, I am now convinced, that the LETTER II. 93 sees the necessity of a better righteousness than his own. darkest colours cannot be too dark for the portrait of ray spiritual state. 1 see myself overspread with an habitual depravity, and cannot forbear crying out, with the abashed leper, Unclean ! unclean !* The sacred oracles in no wise misrepresent fallen man, when they describe him as altogether become abominable.! They are far from under-rating human works, when they denominate them filthy rags.^ Rags they are, if we * Lev. xiii. 45. t Job xv. 16. I Isa. Ixiv. 6. Does not Theron misapply this text? Can it be intended to discredit the qualifications of the upright? Is it not ra- ther a brand set upon the works of the wicked ; whose " very sacrifices are an abomination to the Lord ]" Or a rebuke given to the specious performances of the hypocrite ; who is precise in the form, but des- titute of the power of godliness 1 Or, may it not refer to ritual ob scrvances ; in contradistinction to moral duties, and spiritual accom- plishments 1 The disparaging character must not, I think, be confined to ritual observances ; because it is expressly said, all our righteousnesses, in- cluding every kind of religious duty. Neither can it be appropriated to the formal hypocrite, much less to the notoriously wicked ; because those very persons, who are the subject of this assertion, declare in the context, " Lord, we are thy people ; thou art our Father ; we shall be saved." So that it seems intended to stain the pride of all human glory. Besides, the prophet speaks of himself, " We all are as an unclean tiling :" which, however strange and unreasonable it may seem, is the very same charge to which he pleads guilty in another place ; " Woe is me ! I am undone ! for I am a man of unclean lips !" Not that he was defiled with any gross pollution ; nay, he was a saint of the most distinguished lustre ; but his eyes had seen the King, the Lord of hosts. He was under the clear manifestations of a God, glorious in holiness, inflexible injustice, and infinite in all perfections. Amidst these manifestations, the impurity of his heart and nature were not only apparent, but glaring ; overwhelmed him with abasement, and, till Christ was applied in a type (Isa. vi. 7.) filled him with terror. In such circumstances, and under such views, all our moral virtues and evangelical graces, all our exercises of devotion and acts of cha- rity, will appear both defective and polluted ; by no means propor- tioned to the demands of the law, nor sufficient for our recommenda- tion to the supreme Lawgiver ; no more than a few tattered rags can claim the character, or perform the services, of a complete suit; no more than a few filthy rags are fit to dress the bride for her nup- tials, or the courtier for a birth-night. But there is a righteousness blessed be divine grace ! spotlessly "'" and consummately excellent; a righteousness, which answers all 94 THERON TO ASPASIO. Theron, convinced of the necessity of a better righteousness than his own, consider their great imperfections ; filthy rags, if we advert to their manifold defilements. And since the nature of God is so irreconcileably averse to all con- tamination; since the law of God requires such un- spotted perfection ; " O who can stand before this holy Lord God,"* in any accomplishments of their own? When I farther reflect, that I have only a very ob- scure glimpse of the divine purity, and am a mere novice in the knowledge of my own heart ; how am I amazed at the lofty apprehensions which I once formed, concerning the dignity of my nature, and the integrity of my conduct ! All owing to ignorance, the grossest ignorance of myself and the scriptures. How do I shudder to think, that, in expecting justification from the law, I was resting the welfare of my immor- tal soul, not on the foundation of a rock, but on the point of a dagger. I was going to the decisive tribu- nal, flushed with the falsest hopes, and charged with a set of glittering sins; going, like poor deluded Uriah,*)" not with any valid credentials, but with " the ministration of death"J in my hand. Though I cannot but acknowledge the arrogance of these pretensions, yet loth, very loth is my pride, to renounce the pleasing absurdity. Self-love has searched, and searched again, for something excel- lent. It would fain make a better appearance, and can hardly brook the humiliation of imploring all sub forma pauperis.% With what reluctance is a sinner brought to confess himself sinful in every duty, sinful in every capacity ! Strange perverseness! But the charge is undeniable. However un- willing, I must plead guilty. " Thou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting, "|| is evidently that the Creator requires, and supplies all that the creature needs : to prove this momentous point, and to display this unspeakable gift, is the design of the following sheets. * 1 Sam. vi. 20. t 2 Sam. xi. 14, 15. J 2 Cor. iii. 9. That is, under the character of a poor destitute, or as a beggar sues for his alms. II Dan, v. 27. LETTER III. 95 r^f^^-^-.f ,^S^^^-^>^S^S^^-^^^PS^ desires farther explanation and proof of the doctrine. written on all I am, all I have, all I do. And if I am thus defective, even in my own estimation ; if I am utterly condemned, at the bar of my own conscience; " what then shall I do, when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what shall I answer him?"* I now see the necessity of an imputed righteous- ness. Without some such ohject of my trust,' I am undone. I long therefore to hear your arguments in its behalf. And I must declare to you, if it can be satisfactorily proved from the scriptures, it is the most comfortable doctrine in the world, and worthy of all acceptation. A letter upon this subject would be a singular fa- vour, and, I hope, an equal blessing to Your obliged and affectionate THERON. LETTER III. ASPASIO TO THERON. Dear Theron, 1 HOUGH all your letters give me pleasure, none was ever so highly pleasing as your last. I look upon it with the same secret joy, as a compassionate phy- sician observes some very favourable symptoms, in the crisis of a beloved patient's distemper. What you ask, I shall, without any further preface, attempt to execute. If my attempt proves satisfactory to your judgment, I am sure it will be the most likely means of healing your conscience, and calming your fears. When we perceive the odious depravity of our nature; when we discern the horrible iniquity of our Job xxvi. 14. 96 ASPASIO TO THERON. Aspasio proves the point from the liturgy. t *^-r^*~~**^~f*~r^~r*^~^-^*-r~~*^r~~*^r**f*^**f-^ lives ; and are sensible of that tremendous wrath, and everlasting vengeance, which are due to such guilty creatures ; then nothing can be found, that will speak effectual peace, nothing that will administer solid com- fort, but only the vicarious sufferings and imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ. To this purpose speaks one of the wisest and best of spiritual guides ; " Has sin abounded ?" as un- doubtedly it has, in our heart, and our life; "grace has much more abounded," in the obedience and me- rits of our Redeemer. Nay, " has sin reigned ?" ex- erted its malignant power, in the most extensive and most destructive manner; rendering us subject unto death, both temporal and eternal ? " Even so has grace reigned ;" exerted its benign efficacy, and in a manner yet more triumphant ; not only rescuing us from guilt and ruin, but restoring us to everlasting life and glory ; and all this through the righteouness, the complete meritorious righteousness, brought in " by Jesus Christ our Lord."* You inquire after the proof of this imputed righte- ousness. From a multitude I shall select a few ; suf- ficient, I hope, to make it appear, that this is the de- clared doctrine of our church, and the avowed belief of her most eminent divines ; that this is copiously revealed through the whole scriptures ; revealed in many express passages, and deducible from a variety of instructive similitudes. Hear the language of our common prayer, in a very affecting and solemn address to the Almighty ; " We do not presume to come to this thy table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness." If we may not, if we dare not, rely on our own righteousness, when we approach the eucharistic table ; much less may we depend upon it, when we are summoned to the decisive tribunal. Should you ask, on what we are to depend ? The exhortation to the communion furnishes an answer ; " On the meritorious death and * Rom. v. 21. 3 LETTER III. 97 ^>vv^\^v^vx-^-^->^-^-.*v^> and articles of the Church of England. passion of Christ, whereby alone we obtain remission of sins, and are made partakers of the kingdom of heaven." The collect appointed for the festival of circumcision, has this remarkable introduction ; " Almighty God, whose blessed Son was obedient to the law for man." In what sense, or with what propriety, can this be af- firmed, unless Christ's perfect obedience be referable to us, and accepted intead of ours? On any other in- terpretation, I should thing, he was obedient, not for man, but for himself. Should the artful critic give some other turn to these passages, it will avail him but little. Because the church, her own best expositor, has explained the meaning of such phrases, and put the matter beyond all doubt. In her eleventh article she says, " We are accounted righteous before God only for the merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." The doctrine relating to pardon of sin, had been stated in a pre- ceding article. This displays the method, whereby sinners may appear righteous in the eye of God, and in the court of heaven; so as to recover the divine favour, and obtain a title to eternal bliss. This is done, not by any native righteousness, not by any acquired righteousness, but by an imputed righte- ousness. Were we justified by either of the former methods, it would not have been said, we are ac- counted, but we are righteous. They are so far from constituting our reconciling and justifying righteous- ness, that they have no share in it; contribute no- thing towards it ; are totally excluded from it. We are accounted righteous, and accepted as such, only (mark the expression) only through the meritorious obedience and propitiating blood of our great Me- diator. The homilies are, if it be possible, still more ex- plicit, and more cogent. In the homily concerning the salvation of mankind, we read the following words: The apostle toucheth three things, which must go together in our justification. On God's part, VOL. II. 39. N 98 ASPASIO TO THERON. The homilies support the doctrine of imputed righteousness. his great mercy and grace. On Christ's part, the satisfaction of God's justice, or the price of our re- demption, by the offering of his body, and shedding of his blood, with fulfilling of the law perfectly. On our part, true and lively faith in the merits of Jesus Christ, which yet is not our's, but by God's working in us." You see, according to the judgment of our venerable reformers, not only the offering of Christ's body, and shedding of Christ's blood, but also his perfect fulfilling of the law, are the adequate price of our redemption. All these act conjointly, they sweetly harmonize, in the great and glorious work. To sup- pose their disunion, is a doctrinal mistake, somewhat like that practical error of the papists, in severing the sacramental wine from the sacramental bread ; administering to the laity the symbols of the slaugh- tered body, but withholding the symbols of the streaming blood. There are other clauses in the same homily, which set the seal of the church to our sentiments. I shall content myself with transcribing one from the con- clusion. " Christ," says that form of sound words, *' is the righteousness of all them that do truly be- lieve. He for them paid their ransom by his death. He for them fulfilled the law in his life. So that now, in him, and by him, every true Christian man may be called a fulfiller of the law; forasmuch as that which their infirmity lacketh, Christ's righteous- ness hath supplied." This authority is as clear, as the doctrine authorized is comfortable. May the former sway our judgments! may the latter cheer our hearts! The homily on Christ's nativity informs the reader, that the design of our Lord's incarnation was, " to give light unto the world, and call sinners to repen- tance ; to fulfil the law for us, and become the propi- tiation for our sins ; to cast out the prince of the world, and destroy the works of the devil." We have all broke the law, we are all unable to keep the law ; therefore the blessed Jesus fulfilled the law, fulfilled LETTER III. -*v^v^^v^^- ,f^~^- -XN The testimony of Bishop Beveridge. it, in each and every of its demands, fulfilled it, in the highest degree of perfection, and, what is of all considerations tiie most delightful, fulfilled it for us. His obedience took the place of what we were obliged to perform, under the covenant of works; and is not only the meritorious, but also the constituent cause of our justification. So that, if there be any worthiness in our Lord's most holy nature; any merit in his exercise of the sublimest virtues; completed by his submission to the most ignominious sufferings, and tormenting death ; thm, according to this standard system of orthodox divinity, these are the ground, these are the substance of the sinner's justification. And, according to the dictates of the most unbiassed reason, they are the best and surest ground, that can either be wished or imagined. Does it not, from the preceding quotations, appear, that the doctrine of justification through the imputed righteousness of our Redeemer, is far from being dis- claimed by the established church ? I am sorry, but constrained to own, that we rarely find any considera- ble strictures of this great evangelical peculiarity, in our modern theological discourses. Yet there have been preachers of the highest repute for learning, for judgment, and for piety, who professedly maintained this grand truth of the gospel. The devout Bishop Beveridge, in his Private Thoughts, has left upon record the following very re- markable acknowledgment ; which, if it suited his eminent holiness, cannot be too humbling, my dear Theron, for your lips and for mine. " I do not re- member, neither do I believe, that I ever prayed, in all my life-time, with that reverence, or heard with that attention, or received the sacrament with that faith, or did any work with that pure heart and single eye, as I ought to have done. Insomuch, that I look upon all my righteousness but as filthy rags ; and it is in the robes only of the righteousness of the Son of God, that I dare appear before the Majesty of heaven." 100 ASPASIO TO THERON. Buhops Hopkins, Reynolds, Davenant, The fervent and affectionate Bishop Hopkins* speaks in perfect consonance with his brother of St. Asaph. " The law was given us, not that we should seek justification by the observance of it, but finding it impossible to be justified by fulfilling it, we should thereby be driven to Christ's righteousness ; who hath both fulfilled it in himself, and satisfied for our trans- gressing of it; and therefore saith the apostle, The Jaw was a schoolmaster, to bring us unto Christ, that \ve might be justified by faith. To this end it was pro- mulgated, that seeing the strictness of its precepts, the rigour of its threatenings, and withal being convinced of our impotence to fulfil its commands, we might be urged by its terrors to fly to Christ, and find that righteousness in him which may answer all the de- mands of the law." Bishop Reynolds,! styled by his contemporaries, and not without reason, a walking library, bears his testimony in the following words ; "Christ as our Surety paid our debt, underwent the curse due to our sins, and bare them all in his own body on the tree ; became subject to the law for us, and repre- sentatively in our stead fulfilled all the righteousness the law required, active and passive. For sin being once committed, there must be a double act to justi- fication ; the suffering of the curse, and the fulfilling of righteousness anew. The one, a satisfaction for the injury we have done to God, as our Judge; the other, the performance of a service which we owe unto him as our Maker." To this illustrious triumvirate, let me join Bishop Davenant ; who, for his great abilities, and unques- tionable integrity, was appointed one of our religious plenipotentiaries, at the renowned synod of Dort. In * See his sermon on John vii. 10. t See his treatise, entitled the Life of Christ. Which as well as all his other works, abound with striking sentiments, having much elegance of diction, a copious variety of learning, and a lively ani- mating spirit of evangelical piety. LETTER III. 101 S^--X^^V^VX--X--*S.^-^^^V^J and Hooker, are its advocates. his very valuable exposition of the epistle to the Co- lossians, he writes to this effect : " Ye are complete in Christ. Ye are furnished, in that all-sufficient Redeemer, with whatever is requisite to everlasting salvation. With wisdom ; since it is the consum- mation of this noble endowment, to know Christ and him crucified. With righteousness ; because he has perfectly satisfied the law,* and thoroughly expiated our guilt. With sanctification ; because his Spirit, dwelling in our hearts, mortifies our corrupt affec- tions, and renews the soul after the image of its Creator." Let me bring up the rear with a testimony, which, for clearness, solidity, and a full representation of the evangelical doctrine, might very justly have claimed a place in the van. It is taken from an author, whom the general consent of our nation has distinguished with the title of judicious. The judicious Hooker, in a treatise on justification, says, " It is a childish cavil our adversaries so greatly please themselves with, exclaiming, that we tread all Christian virtues under our feet, because we teach, that faith alone justi- fieth. Whereas, by this speech, we never meant to exclude either hope or charity from being always joined as inseparable mates with faith, in the man that is justified; or works from being added, as necessary duties, required of every justified man : but to shew, * In this respect principally (says our author, enlarging upon the text) are believers complete : because, though destitute of any righteousness that may properly be called their own, Christ has gra- ciously enriched them with his. Vide Davenant in Epist. ad Coloss. cap. ii. com. 10. Let me beg leave to intimate that this exposition of the epistle to the Colossians, for perspicuity of style, and accuracy of method, for judgment in discerning, and fidelity in representing, the apostle's meaning, for strength of argument in refuting errors, and felicity of invention in deducing practical doctrine, tending both to the esta- blishment of faith, and the cultivation of holiness is, I think, infe- rior to no writing of the kind ; and richly deserves to be read, to be studied, to be imitated, by our young divines. 102 ASPASIO TO THERON. Bishop Sanderson's testimony : ^VXS^^S^NX-^V^S^^N^S^-^S^ 1 XN^ that faith is the only hand, which putteth on Christ to justification ; and Christ the only garment, which be- ing so put on, covereth the shame of our defiled na- tures, hideth the imperfection of our works, and pre- serveth us blameless in the sight of God: before whom, otherwise, the weakness of our faith were cause suf- ficient to make us culpable, yea, to shut us out of the kingdom of heaven, where nothing that is not absolute can enter." You will allow the sagacious Bishop Sanderson* to sum up the evidence ; or rather, to make an impor- tant remark on the whole of the controversy-. That great light of the church, both in casuistical and practical divinity, observes, " The tidings of a Redeemer must be blessed and welcome news, to those that are sensible of their own poverty, and take it of grace." Our eagle-eyed divine penetrates into the true cause of the prevailing averseness to this evangelical doctrine. It is founded on the state of the heart, more than upon any force of argument. Peo- ple are but little, if at all, sensible of their moral in- digence; of the defects which depreciate, and the defilements which sully, whatever they have, and whatever they do. Nay, strongly tinctured with pride, they would be themselves the Alpha, and suffer the blessed Jesus to be no more than the Omega, in procuring their eternal salvation. There- fore they can hardly be reconciled to the humbling character of an eleemosynary ; one who lives, wholly upon the alms of the gospe), and is dependent upon grace for his all. Whereas, was this grand obstacle once removed ; were men convinced of sin, of exceeding sinfulness in their worst estate, and of remaining sinfulness in their best: they would soon be convinced of righteousness,! of the absolute necessity and inestimable worth of a Redeemer's righteousness. They would no longer dis- * See his sermon upon Isa. lii. 8. t John \v\. 8. LETTER III. 103 ^^^^^^^^^-^^-^-.f^-^r-^-^- Also that of Clemens, among the ancient fathers. pute against it, but cordially receive it; entirely rely on it; and adore the goodness, the transcendent, and unutterable goodness of God, in providing it. 1 think in one of our conferences, I undertook to produce my vouchers from the ancient fathers. Let me now subjoin two or three attestations of this kind. From one of which you will perceive, that those early writers had a considerable "degree of clearness upon the point. From the other you will see, that, far from rejecting the doctrine, they embrace it with delight and rapture. And if you will admit of the last, you cannot be startled at any thing, which I shall advance upon the subject. Let me only premise in general, that, if those authors are not copious and explicit, with regard to the imputation of active righ- teousness, they abound in passages, which evince the substitution of Christ in our stead : passages, which disclaim all dependence on any duties of our own, and fix the hopes of a believer entirely upon the merits of his Saviour. When this is the case, I am very little solicitous about any particular forms of expression ; and far from being angry, even though the words, which I think most significant, are not retained. Clemens an intimate acquaintance of St. Paul's, and whose name was in the book of life,* in his truly excellent epistle to the Corinthians, assures that peo- ple:! " We are not," in any respect or in any degree, " justified by ourselves," but wholly by Jesus Christ; " not by our own wisdom or prudence," which could never find out the way ; " not by the piety of our hearts or works of righteousness performed in our lives," which could never be sufficient for the purpose ; " but by faith :" the one invariable method, " by which the al- * Phil. iv. 3. t Ov & eetvlut <5xat/A9, ovh T) ifiun uv xaliipIacratyieSa ev ocrioT/dt Ts aw ututog o waflaxpatlwp 0ec? ehxuarsr. 1 Epist. ad Corinth. This quotation is explained, as well as translated. 104 ASPASIO TO THERON. r^^s^v^s^^*s^v^v.^..^v*v^w^-.^-.^s^^X>.^ Justin and Chrysostora's sentiments. mighty Sovereign has justified all" his people " ever since the world began." Justin, who was first a Gentile philosopher, then an eminent Christian, at last a martyr for the truth, speaks more fully to the point :* " What else could cover our sins, but the righteousness of Jesus Christ? By what possible means could we, unrighteous and unholy creatures, be justified, but only by the " in- terposition of the " Son of God" in our behalf? Having, in this clause, made a profession of his faith, the good man, on the contemplation of such a privi- lege, breaks out into a kind of holy transport. " O sweet and delightful exchange ! A dispensation un- searchably wise and gracious! Benefits, quite un- expected, and rich beyond all our hopes! that the sin of many should be hid by one righteous Person; and that the righteousness of one should justify many transgressors. The following words are remarkably strong, and the sentiments peculiarly bold. But they come from the pen of the finest writer in ecclesiastical antiquity. They have the great name and venerable character of St. Chrysostorn, for their recommendatory preface.f " Fear not," says he, " on account of any of thy past transgressions of the law, when once thou hast fled by faith to Jesus Christ. The most enormous and most destructive violation of the law is, to be with- held, by the consciousness of any guilt whatever, from believing on Christ. When thou actest faith on him, thou hast fulfilled, I might say, more than fulfilled the Tt aXXo TJ fl^xapW vipa* tj^Wijfi)? xaXu4/o, ij ixi &xcro<7Vr; E rtn i Svietloi TS? are/At?; ij/*as x.ai oitrifStK;, i) t TV via TH IB : ft THE TAYK.EIAE KATAAAFHE, a TK ant^x,' taa " rti ^Vf/a, u rut ofrsfoa- boxifla* t fMjf TroXAa? ao/xa$ 5Wj<7>). Epist. ad Diogn. Though Du Pin questions the authority of this epistle, he allows it to have been written by an ancient hand. Dr. Cave, as capable a judge, thinks there is no reason to doubt but it is the genuine work of Justin. "t" M>7 Toimr ^ofej}9){, w? T nofj.o irotfa&ctwut, ITTIWXI TJ WK *' wpo0^0*?, TO?I yetf avlot 7ra,fatKen;, olt h ctvrot ru Xfurra p.* rrifrivrns u<; etv ris etvlu, xaottHon iwArjpwaa? mot wcXAw 7rXf&> ) ixihtug-t woXXw yap MMMMNWII sXfej. Horn. XVII, in X. ad. Horn. 3 LETTER III. 105 MM^W Milton's. law. For thou hast received a better righteousness, than it could ever require : thou art possessed of a better obedience, than any creature could possibly pay." Two or three witnesses of distinguished abilities, and undoubted veracity, are a sufficient confirmation of any cause. For this reason, and to avoid a tire- some prolixity, I have set aside a multitude of voices; which, from the writings of our own and foreign di- vines, are ready to pour their united evidence. And lest the business of quotation, though sparingly ma- naged, should seem dry and tedious ; I will relieve your weariness, and enliven the collection, by an ex- tract from the prince of English poetry. Michael, the prophetic archangel, mentioning the destructive con- sequences of the fall, and asserting the Godhead of that glorious Person, who undertook to be the repairer of their deadly breach ; adds, Which he, who conies thy Saviour, shall secure, Not by destroying Satan, but his works, In thee and in thy seed. Nor can this be, But by fulfilling (that which thou didst want) Obedience to the law of God, impos'd On penalty of death ; and suff'ring death, The penalty to thy transgression due; And due to theirs, which out of thine will grow, So only can high justice rest appaid.* Here then is the express determination of our ho- milies, supported by the authority of our articles, established by the concurrence of our liturgy, still farther ratified by the unanimous attestation of several celebrated divines ; whose lives were the brightest or- nament to our church, and whose writings are the most unexceptionable interpretation of her meaning. As a capital, to crown and complete this grand column, supervenes the declaration of the ancient Fathers, those who flourished, and with the highest renown, in the first and purest ages of Christianity. So that, if great authorities carry any weight ; *if * Milton, book XII. 393. VOL. ii. 40, o 106 ASPASIO TO THERON. The amiable family of Camillus. illustrious names challenge any regard; this tenet conies attended and dignified with very considerable credentials. Yet I will venture to affirm, that all these, consi- derable as they appear, are the least of those testimo- nials, which recommend the doctrine to my Theron's acceptance, and which have gained admittance into the heart of His most affectionate ASPASIO. LETTER IV. ASPASIO TO THERON. iHE family, in which I have the satisfaction to re- side, though remarkable for their genteel figure and ample fortune, are still more amiably distinguished by their benevolence, hospitality, and charity. As they live at a distance from the market town, the lady has converted one apartment of her house into a little dis- pensatory; and stocked it with some of the most common, the most needed, and most salutary medi- cines : which, in cases of ordinary indisposition, she distributes to her indigent neighbours, with singular compassion, and with no small success. This fine morning, Emilia has ordered some skilful hands into the fields, to cull their healing simples, and lay up a magazine of health for the afflicted poor. Catnillus is withdrawn to receive his rents, and settle accounts with his tenants. Suppose, we act in concert with these valuable persons. Suppose, we range the delightful fields of scripture, and form a collection, not of salutiferous LETTER IV. 107 -^^^^^^^.jr-^jr^-^-r-^-^ Aspasio establishes the tenet from scripture. r-^-^-^*^-^-^^-^-^^-^-^-**^f^+-^-^*^^r**r^f herbs, but of inestimable texts ; such as may be of sovereign efficacy, to assuage the anguish of a guilty conscience, and impart saving health to the distem- pered soul. Suppose, we open the mines of divine inspiration, and enrich ourselves, not with the gold of Ophir, but with the unsearchable treasures of Christ; or with that perfect righteousness of our Redeemer, which is incomparably more precious, than the revenues of a country, or the produce of Peru. Jn pleading for imputed righteousness, we have al- ready urged the authority of our established church, and the suffrage of her most eminent divines. The opinion of excellent writers, which has been the result of learning, great attention, and earnest prayer, is no contemptible evidence. Yet we must always reserve the casting voice for those infallible umpires, the pro- phets and apostles. " If we receive," with a deferen- tial regard, " the witness of men, the witness of God is greater,"* and challenges the most implicit submis- sion. Which remark naturally leads me to the in- tended subject of this epistle ; or rather calls upon me to fulfil my late engagement, and shew, that the above- mentioned doctrine is copiously revealed, through the whole process of the scriptures. Let me detach a very significant portion from the epistle to the Romans ; which, though little inferior to a decisive proof, is produced only as an introduc- tion to others. " Now the righteousness of God with- out the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets; even the righteousness of God, which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all, and upon all them that believe.''^ The righteousness of God signifies that righteousness which the incarnate God wrought out in his own all-glorious person.;}; It is * John v. 9. t Rom. iii. 21, 22. \ This explication, or something to the same purpose, has occurred already. But it is hoped, the candid reader will not condemn the repetition, as a disagreeable and jejune tautology. Because it is so 108 ASPASIO TO THERON. Aspasio establishes the tenet ^~-XS^-^^^x^->^%^->^V^v^v^-v*-^" styled the righteousness of God, by way of superlative pre-eminence; in opposition to any righteousness of our own, and in contradistinction to the righteousness of all creatures whatever. This righteousness is without the law. Its efficacy has no dependence on, its merits receive no addition from, any conformity of our practice to the divine law ; being complete, absolutely complete in itself, and altogether sufficient to procure the reconciliation and acceptance of sin- ners. This righteousness is witnessed by the law and the prophets ; receives an uniform attestation from the various writings of the Old Testament. To investigate this attestation, to examine its pertinency, and weigh its sufficiency, is our present pleasing business. We may begin with that gracious declaration, made to the first transgressors : " The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head ;"* shall destroy the works of the devil, and retrieve whatever was lost by his malicious artifices. f How could this be effected, but by restoring that righteousness, which, for a while, our first parents possessed ; which they ought always to have held fast; but from which they so soon and so unhappily swerved. Take the position in the right sense, and Christianity is, if not entirely, yet very nearly as old as the creation. It was compre- consonant to the practice of our great apostle, who repeats the term, re-inculcates the doctrine, and hardly knows how to desist from the favourite topic ; like one, who was quite enamoured with the subject, who found music in the words, and whose happiness was bound up io the blessing. Because it is conformable to another, and a greater example. The Lord Jehovah himself, within the compass of one chapter, once and again, yea, a third and a fourth time, styles this wonderful obedience, my righteousness. As though the God of in- finite perfection gloried in it ; thought himself most eminently mag- nified by it ; and was jealous to have all the honour resulting from it. See Isa. li. * Gen. iii. 15. t In some such sense, I think, our first parents must understand the promise. Otherwise, it could yield them no effectual relief, un- der the distressing sense of their own misery, and the dismal appre- hension of their posterity's ruin. LETTER IV. 109 from the scriptures of the Old Testament. bended in this blessed promise, as the stamina of the largest plants are contained in the substance of their respective seeds : every subsequent revelation being no more than a gradual evolution of this grand evangelical principle; acting like the vegetative powers of nature, which, in rearing an oak with all its spread of branches, only expand the tunicles, and fill up the vessels of the acorn. This doctrine seems to have been typically taught, by the remarkable manner of clothing our first parents. All they could do for their own recovery, was like the patched and beggarly mantle of fig-leaves. This they relinquish, and God himself furnishes them with apparel.* Animals are slain, not for food, but sacri- fice; and the naked criminals are arrayed with the skins of those slaughtered beasts. The victims figured the expiation of Christ's death ; the clothing typified the imputation of his righteousness. In perfect con- formity, perhaps with a reference, to the passage thus interpreted, the apostle just now expressed himself, " even the righteousness of God, which is not only made overf to all believers, as a rich portion; but put upon all,f as a beautiful garment." Whereby alone their moral deformity can be covered, and their ever- lasting confusion prevented. Milton, it is certain, speaking of this memorable transaction, considers it in the same spiritual sense : Nor he their outward only with the skins Of beasts, but inward nakedness (much more Opprobrious !) with his robe of righteousness Arraying, cover'd from his Father's sight. " In thy seed," says the great Jehovah to his ser- vant Abraham, " shall all the nations of the earth be blessed."^ That the seed here mentioned is Christ, the apostle places beyond all doubt. Both scripture * Gen. iii. 21. t Rom. iii. 22. EI2 irotAotc, EFII irar*< raj Ktimvoflas. I Gen. xxii. 18. See St. Paul's comment upon this invaluable promise, Gal. iii. 8. This commentator, we all allow, was guided by the Spirit, and knew 110 ASPASIO TO THERON. Aspasio establishes the tenet and reason declare, that true blessedness must neces- sarily include the pardon of sins, and the favour of God, the sanctification of our souls, and the inherit- ance of life eternal. None of which are to be acquired by human performance; but all are to be sought, and all may be found, in the root and offspring of Abraham, Jesus Christ : who is therefore most pertinently styled, the Desire of all nations:* the actual desire of every enlightened nation ; and the implicit desire of all na- tions whatever; because all, without any exception, covet what is to be derived only from Jesus Christ the Righteous, real happiness. The patriarchal age, and the legal economy, bore their testimony to this truth, by typical persons, em- blematical miracles, and figurative usages. Indeed, the whole ceremonial service was a grand series of types, representing Christ and his everlasting righteous- ness. In all which this was the unanimous, though silent language: " Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world." These I shall not stay to discuss, because proofs of a more explicit and positive nature wait for our consideration. Only I would just make a transient observation, relating to one very remarkable constitution in the Jewish ritual. The high priest had, on the front of his mitre, a plate of pure gold, engraven with that venerable motto,f " Holiness to the Lord;" which was always to be on his forehead, when he performed the solemn ministra- tion of the sanctuary ; and for this important reason, that the people " might be accepted before the Lord."J Did not this most clearly foreshew the immaculate holiness of our great high priest ; and with equal clear- ness imply, that his holiness should procure acceptance for all his followers ? In the book of Job, we have several hints of this the mind of God. According to his exposition of the text, it is preg- nant with the doctrine of justification by faith, and contains an abridg- ment of the gospel. * Hag. iii. 7. t Exod. xxviii. 36, 37. J Exod. xxxviii. 38. LETTER IV. Ill ^r*^r.^^s*-^^*^r^~^-^-^^r^'^-^^ from the scriptures of the Old Testament. *^**^f**^r^*^f*^^ s '^^V^^ s ^****^*>^ s ^x saint, stripped of every personal plea, may rely only on the merits of a Redeemer. This is the final issue of all those warm debates, which pass between the afflicted hero and his censorious friends. This is the grand result of Elihu's calm reasoning, and of God Almighty's awful interrogatories. The apparent centre this,* in which all the lines terminate; justly therefore to be considered, as the principal scope of the whole work. I must not omit an excellent observation, which I find in some critical and explanatory notes on the last words of David.f The judicious author proving, that this song relates to Christ ; that it displays the dignity of our Redeemer, under the character of the King, and the Just One; adds as an explication of the last amiable and glorious title: " Our Lord Jesus Christ is so called, not so much for having fulfilled all righ- teousness, in his own person, and performing an unsin- ising obedience to the will of God ; as because by his righteousness imputed to us, we also upon the terms of the gospel are justified,} or accounted righteous be- fore God." I think we may evidently discern the same vein of evangelical doctrine, running through many of the psalms. " He shall convert my soul ;" turn me, not * See Job xlii. 6. t By Dr. Grey. See 2 Sam. xxiii. 1, &c. I That is, freely ; or, as the prophet speaks, " without money and without price." For nothing is requisite, in order to a participation of Christ and his benefits, but a conviction of our extreme need, and an unfeigned desire to receive them ; receive them as gifts of pure grace, vouchsafed to the most undeserving creatures. This point, which is so intimately connected with our comfort and hope, the reader may see more fully stated in Dialogue XV. Psa. xxiii. 3. I am sensible, the word SiltZ?' may signify to refresh or restore; may answer to the Greek phrase amJ,t/; and denote the comforts of the Holy Ghost. This verse may also bear the same sig- nification with the participle s9n njr &ypiar TU? &Kao<7K!? are almost a literal translation, are the very best explanation of the psal- mist's language, np"Nf Nil?' Rom. v. 17. Psa. xxiv. 5. \ Psa. Ixxi. 46. There is, in the Hebrew original, and in the new translation, a very emphatical repetition ; which adds weight to the 1 LETTER IV. H5 from the scriptures of the Old Testament. had said, I will have recourse to no other righteous- ness, for the consolation of my soul. I will plead no other righteousness, for the recommendation of my person. I will fly to no other righteousness, for my final acceptance and endless felicity. This is that "raiment of needlework and clothing of wrought gold,"* in which the king's daughter is introduced to him, " who sitteth in the heavens over all." This is that garment " for glory and for beauty, "f which clothed our High Priest; and descending to his very feet,J clothes and adorns the lowest members of his mystical body. Recollecting all the foregoing particulars, justly, and on the most rational ground, does our royal author de- clare, " Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound: they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they rejoice all the day ; and in thy righteousness shall they be exalted." They are truly blessed, they alone are happy, who know the joyful sound of the gospel ; not only receive it with their ears, but admit it into their very hearts; so as to partake of the sacred peace, and spiritual liberty, which it proclaims. " They shall walk in the light of thy countenance;" they shall enjoy such com- munications of thy grace, and such manifestations of thy love, as will constitute the serenity and sunshine of their souls. In thy name, O Lord Jesus Christ, in thy glorious person, and thy infinite merit, shall they rejoice; and not occasionally, but habitually; not barely at some distinguished intervals, but all the day. Their joy shall be as lasting, as it is substantial. " And in thy righteousness shall they be exalted," set above the tantalizing power of temporal things ; placed beyond the slavish fear of the last enemy ; and raised, sentiment, and demands a peculiar attention from the reader: " Thy righteousness, even thine only." * Psa. xlv. 13. t Exod. xxviii. 31. Notabat (says Witsius upon the place) illud pallium justitiae, quo industus est, et suos induit Christus. J Rev. i. 13. Psa. Ixxxix. 15, 16. 116 ASPASIO TO THERON, Ap;tsio establishes the tenet -XN^^^-^^^X^^v-^"*^ K --^*-^-,^NXS.^-^XN when time shall be no more, to a state of celestial glory, and consummate bliss. How thoroughly evangelical is this seraphic writer? He has joy, he has blessedness, and he looks for ever- lasting exaltation; yet not from his faith, his repent- ance, and his own sincere obedience. According to this, which is the modern scheme, faith, instead of re- ceiving, would supplant the Lord Jesus; repentance, instead of being the gift of Christ, would become his rival; and sincere obedience, which is for the praise and glory of God, would eclipse and impoverish his grace. But David adopts no such sentiments ; David maintains no such doctrine. This is the invariable language of his heart. " All my springs of hope, of trust, and consolation, " O thou adored Emmanuel, are in thee."* This sense is the Jess precarious, I had almost said the more certain, as it exactly corresponds with the ^analogy of faith, and coincides with the express decla- rations of other scriptures. Isaiah is styled the evan- gelist of the Jewish church ; because more frequently than any of the prophets he celebrates, and more copi- ously explains, this and other peculiarities of the gos- pel. In the very first chapter, he preaches these glad tidings : " Zion shall be redeemed with judgment, and her converts with righteousness." Zion, the gospel church, composed of fallen creatures sometime dis- obedient to their God, and enslaved to Satan, shall be redeemed : redeemed, not with corruptible things, as silver and gold, but. by severe judgments executed on their glorious Head, and gracious Representative; and not by these only, but by righteousness also: by the perfect and most meritorious righteousness of the same divinely excellent Person.f Our sacred author bears his testimony, with warmer zeal and brighter evidence, as he proceeds in his in- * Psa. Ixxxvii. 7. t Hanc redemptionem docet Spiritus Sanctus habere nos in obedi- ntia et sanguine Jesu Christi. Isa. i. 27. Vitring. in Loc. LETTER IV. 117 r-^-^-^-^-^^-^^-^-^^^r^r^t from the scriptures of the Old Testament. comparable discourses. " Surely, shall one say, (or, as it may be rendered, only) " in the Lord have I righ- teousness and strength.* Please to observe, Theron: it is not said, in my own works, in my own repen- tance, no, nor in my own faith, but " in the Lord Jesus" have I righteousness : righteousness for jus- tification, and strength for sanctitication : an imputed righteousness, to procure my acceptance ; an . im- parted strength, to produce my holiness: the first con- stituting my title to the everlasting inheritance; the last forming my personal preparation for its enjoy- ment. Surely ; which expresses a firm persuasion, and an unshaken affiance. Only ; which denotes an utter renunciation of all other confidence, and excludes every other ground of hope. Righteousness ;f the original is in the plural number: which seems to be used, not without an important design, to enlarge the significancy of the word, and make it correspond w 7 ith the richness of the blessing: so that it may imply the fulness and supereminent excellency of this gift of grace; as comprehending whatever, either of suffering or obedience, is requisite to the justification of sinners.^ Insomuch that " in the Lord Jesus Christ, and his all-perfect righteousness, the seed of Israel shall not only be justified, but rejoice; and not only confide, but glory." What he had just now asserted, he exemplifies in his own, and in the person of every true believer. " I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, rny soul shall be joyful in my God ; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath " covered me with the * Isa. xlv. 24. *t" nip"W parallel to which, both in construction and signification, is the phrase used by St. John, Aixatw/xola, Rev. x.l. The fine linen is the righteousness (properly the righteousnesses) of the saints. J Vult dicere propheta, in Jehovah esse id propter quod peccator resipiscens et credens, a peccatis absolvi, et jure ad benedictionem coelestem donari queat ac debeat : esse illud Jehovae proprium ; ab ipso quae eodem ; quod extra ipsum non invenitur. Vitring. Isa. xlv. 25. 118 ASPASIO TO THERON. Aspasio establishes the tenet robe of righteousness."* True believers are com- pared, in one of our sacred eclogues, to " a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariot ;""] to horses, than which no animal is more stately and graceful ; to Egyptian horses, which were the best and completes! then in the world ; to those in Pharaoh's chariot, which doubtless were a choice set, selected from thousands, and finest where all were fine. Here, me- thinks, 1 see the comparison realized. Christians, endued with such a spirit as breathes in this animated text, are like a collection of those gallant and majes- tic steeds; not destined to low drudgery, but ap- pointed to run in the royal chariot; all life, full of fire, champing the bit, and eager for the chace. No- thing can more beautifully describe a state of exulta- tion and ardour, than the preceding smilitude, or the following words. " I will rejoice; I will greatly re- joice ; my very soul, and all that is within me, shall be joyful in my God." Wherefore? Because he has clothed me, undone sinner as 1 am, " with the gar- ments of salvation :" because " he hath covered me, defective as all my services are, with the robe of righteousness :" a robe which hides every sin, that in thought, word, or deed I have committed : a robe, which screens from the sword of justice, the curse of the law, and all the vengeance which my iniquities have deserved : a robe, which adorns and dignifies my soul ; renders it fairer than the moon, clear as the sun, and meet for the inheritance of saints in light. Having represented this righteousness, in a variety of grand and charming views, the prophet further characterizes it, as the unalterable and never-failing origin of our justification and happiness. This he displays by a train of images, bold and sublime to the last degree. " Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath : for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment; but my salvation shall be for ever, * Isa. xlv. 10. t Cant. i. 9. LETTER IV. 119 from the scriptures of the Old Testament. and my righteousness shall not be abolished."* Ob- serve the vast dimensions, and the firm foundations, both of the upper and lower world. How strong, how sted fast, they all appear ! Yet these, indissolu- ble as they may seem, shall perish. This majestic globe, on which mountains rise and oceans roll, shall lose its beautiful gloss ; and be laid aside, like a de- cayed useless garment. Even that more majestic con- cave, in which stars are fixed, and planets revolve, shall be deprived of its very superior lustre, and vanish away like the dissolving smoke. Whereas my salvation, with all the spiritual and heavenly blessings included in it, shall subsist and flourish for ever. And my righteousness, which is the meritorious cause of all, shall be an immovable foundation for repose and hap- piness. In short, whether there be moral virtues, they shall be found wanting ; whether there be Christian graces, they shall prove ineffectual : but my con- formity to the law, and my obedience unto death, neither need addition, nor admit of change; they are all-sufficient in their merit, and in their virtue ever- lasting. When day arises on our benighted hemisphere, it breaks and spreads by a gradual increase ; forming, first, the gray twilight; next the blushing morn ; then the shining light ; till all is heightened into the blaze and glow of noon. When spring revisits our wintry clime, she also advances by gentle degrees : first, swells the bud, and protrudes the germ; then expands the leaf, and unfolds the blossom ; the face of things is continually changing for the better; and nature shews herself, almost every hour, in some new and more engaging dress. This leisurely process renders the strong effulgence of the celestial orb more sup- portable ; and the lovely expansions of the vegetable creation, more observable. So progressive and increasing are the displays of Jesus Christ, exhibited in the scriptures, whose ap- * Isa. li. 6. 120 ASPASIO TO THE RON. Aspasio establishes the tenet pearance is unspeakably more delightful to the soul, than the emanations of orient light are to the eye, or the entertainments of the vernal season to our other senses. The gloom of fallen Adam was alleviated by a ray from this Sun of Righteousness. Abraham and the patriarchs saw afar off the blessed " Jesus, as the morning spread upon the mountains.''* The psalmist and the prophets beheld his nearer approaches, like the sun upon the point of rising. To the apostles and evangelists he arose, in perfect lustre, and complete beauty. The grace and the privileges, which dawned upon other dispensations of religion, are brought even to meridian light by the gospel. This I mention, just to intimate what you may expect from a following letter. In the mean time, let us attend to the prophet Daniel. He records a message from heaven, which is more clearly descriptive of this great evangelical bless- ing, than all the foregoing texts. He had been under much distress, and in great perplexity; afflicted for his own, and his countrymen's sins ; anxious for the welfare of the chosen nation, and the prosperity of true religion. When an angel was dispatched to the holy mourner, with this most cheering news; whic* 1 , received by faith, is the richest balm to a wounded conscience, and the only remedy for a guilty world : "Seventy weeks are determined upon thy people, and upon thy holy city ; to finish the transgression, and make an end of sin ; to make reconciliation for ini- quity; and to bring jn everlasting righteousness. "f This prophecy relates to the Messiah. It foretels, that, in the fulness of time, he should " finish the transgression;^ restrain and suppress the power of corruption, by purifying to himself a peculiar people; should " make an end of sin ;" by sealing up or secreting its guilt, and totally abolishing its condemn- ing power: should make reconciliation for iniquity, by sustaining the vengeance due to sinners, and fully * Joel ii. 2. f Dan. ix. 24. J J&3 C LETTER IV. 121 from the scriptures of the Old Testament. satisfying the divine justice for all their offences: should not barely publish, but accomplish and " bring in righteousness ;"* that it may be presented both to God and man : to God, for the reparation of his violated law ; to man, for the justification of his obnoxious per- son. That this righteousness should be everlasting; not such as may be compared to. the morning cloud, which passeth away ; or to the early dew, which is soon dried up; but such as will outlast the hills, on which the latter shines; and outlast the skies, through which the former sails: A righteousness, whose merits extend to every period and every action of our lives ; and when once made ours by imputation, remains and will remain our unalienable property. To this all the saints, who in ancient generations pleased God, owe their acceptance; on this all the children of men, who in future ages hope for mercy, must rely ; by this the whole assembly of the blessed will be invariably and eternally precious in his sight. Exalted character! Can it be applicable to any thing less, than the righ- teousness of the incarnate God? Surely none can imagine that Daniel would speak in such a magnifi- cent, strain, of any human righteousness ; since, in this very chapter, he professedly depreciates himself, his fellow-saints, and all human performances what- ever. I forgot, in the proper place, to consult the prophet Jeremiah. Let us now refer ourselves to his deter- mination. Celebrating the Saviour of Judah and Israel, he says, " This is his name, whereby he shall be called, The Lord our Righteousness :" a determi- nation so clear and satisfactory, as not to leave, one would almost conclude, any room for appeal. Should the sense of the passage be questioned, 1 think there *t" NOn 1 ? I think, must signify more than to publish or preach. Had this been all that the angel was commissioned to declare, T^C*? or TJrr? would probably have been used. The word implies such a bringing in (the original is the same) as when Abel brought his sacri- fice to the altar, for the divine acceptance ; and Esau brought his venison into the chamber, for his father's use, Gen. iv. xxxii. 31. VOL. II 40. Q 122 ASPASIO TO TtfERON. N^^V^-^N^ ^XN^^N^vX^v^V^V^S^ Aspasio establishes the tenet ,x-_-,x-.x-^-_x-.jr-,x--^-.x-.^-_x-_^-^- cannot be a more authentic explication, than the pre- ceding extracts from Isaiah and Daniel. And having the unanimous attestation of two inspired penmen, we may venture to abide by such authority, even in op- position to some respectable names. In the verse im- mediately foregoing, the essential holiness of the Re- deemer is displayed, under the character of the Righ- teous Branch. The sanctity which he will impart to his subjects, is intimated by his " executing judgment and justice in the earth." In the clause we have quoted, his imputed righteousness is foretold and pro- mised. Thus the several sentences are distinct; the description of the Saviour is complete; and he appears perfectly suited to the exigences of a wretched world; in their worst estate, enslaved to Satan, and in their best, falling short of the glory of God. This, there- fore, I take to be the grand and extensive meaning of the prophet ; not barely, the righteous Lord ; not barely, the Lord who infuses righteousness into sinful souls ; but the incarnate Jehovah,* whose mediatorial righteousness is, by an act of gracious imputation, ours, to all the intents of justification and salvation, ours, as much ours for these blessed purposes, as if we had wrought it out, each in his own person. f Foreseeing and contemplating these blessings, the enraptured Zechariah cries out, " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion ! shout, O daughter of Jerusalem ! behold, thy King cometh untothee: he is just, and * Jer. xxiii. 5, 6. In these golden, infinitely better than golden verses, are characterized the divine and human natures of Christ, together with his mediatorial office. The divine nature; in that he enjoys the honours of the Godhead, and possesses the incommunicable name Jehovah. The human nature ; in that he was to be raised up unto David, and spring as a branch from his root. The mediatorial office; in Unit he is the righteousness of his people, and the salvation of sinners. t Witsius, speaking of the mediatorial righteousness, has written in Latin what Aspasio expresses in English : Per illam obedientiatn tota multitude illorum, qui ad ipsum pertinent; justi constituuntur ; id est censeoter jus habere ad eeternum vitam, non minus quam si quilibet eorum in propria persona illam obedientiam praestitisset. Lib. II. cap. v. LETTER IV. 123 from the scriptures of the Old Testament. having salvation, lowly and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt, the foal of an ass."* He addresses him- self to Zion and Jerusalem, to the ecclesiastical and civil community. Persons of all ranks and of every character, are exhorted to rejoice ; to rejoice greatly ; nay, to express the joy of their heart, by loud halle- lujahs, and triumphant exclamations. What is the cause of this general delight? what can fill both church and state with such high satisfaction ? " Thy King cometh unto thee;" even that glorious King, who rules in heaven, and rules in the heart ; whose service is freedom, and whose laws are love. He his just; divinely righteous in his nature, and he cometh to fulfil all righteousness in thy stead. Having salva- tion : hereby procuring salvation for his people; de- liverance from sin, from death, and hell; from every evil thou deservest, and from every misery thou fearest. That none may be discouraged, and none deterred, from applying to this Prince of peace, he is, amidst all the honours of his sovereignty, lowly ; does not abhor the basest, will not despise the meanest ; to the poor his gospel is preached, and for the guilty his benefits are intended. As an emblem, as a proof, of this most amiable and condescending goodness, he will ride : not like the conquerors of old in a trium- phal chariot, or on a richly caparisoned steed, but upon that most mean and despicable of all animals, an ass ; nay, \yhat is still more despicable, on a rude undisciplined colt, the wayward foal of an ass.f * Zech. ix. t Because some profane scoffers have presumed to ridicule this very remarkable incident of our Lord's life, some interpreters of note have endeavoured to rescue it from their abusive attempts, by ob- serving, " that the eastern asses are much larger and more grace- ful than ours ; that patriarchs and judges thought it no disgrace to ride upon them." This observation has, I fear, more of false delicacy, than of real truth or Christian simplicity. In the patriarchal ages, I acknowledge, persons of high distinction thought it no dishonour, in their journeys and processions, to appear on this animal. But I very much ques- tion, whether the same fashion subsisted, or the same way of thinking ASPASIO TO THEKOX. Aspasio establishes the tenet And now, since my Theron confesses himself to be miserable, and poor, and naked : since the eyes of his understanding are enlightened, to see the impurity of his heart ; the imperfection of his righteousness ; and that he is, in himself, a lost undone sinner, what ad- vice, cheering and salutary, shall I suggest? O! let him listen to an Adviser, infinitely more able and com- passionate ; listen to him, who is the Ancient of Days, and the Wisdom of God : I counsel thee," says the blessed Jesus, " to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich ; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed."* Gold ; what can this de- note, but all those spiritual treasures, which are hid in Christ ? which are, in measure, unsearchable ; in Talue, inestimable; in duration, eternal. White rai- ment ; surely this must signify the righteousness of our Redeemer, which is all purity, and all perfection ; prevailed, in the reign of Tiberius Cjesar. See Jam. iii. 3. Nay, I am strongly inclined to suspect, that this plain primitive custom was superseded, even in the days of Zechariah. For long before this time I find, that " Solomon had four thousand stalls of horses for his cha- riots, and twelve thousand horsemen ; and that horses were brought to him out of Egypt, and divers other countries." 1 Kings iv. 26. x. 28, 29. From this period, it is probable, none but the poor and inferior sort of people rode upon asses. When Isaiah prophesied, the land was full of horses, Isa. ii. 7. Under the Persian monarchy, when Zechariah flourished, horses were in still greater repute. Well therefore might the prophet say, with wonder and delight, " lowly, and riding upon an ass !" Was it a mean attitude ? exceedingly mean ; mean even to con^ tempt] I make no scruple to grant it: nay, I make ray boast of it! It is for the honour of my Lord's condescension ; it is for the utter confusion of all worldly pomp and grandeur; and it is for the un- speakable comfort of my sinful soul. Most charming humility ! most endearing gentleness ! He, " who rideth upon the heavens as it were upon a horse, and maketh the clouds his chariot," to atone for my pride, and to encourage my hope, disdained not, in the days of his flesh, to ride upon an ass. They who would dignify this action, any otherwise than from its ever to be admired abasement, seem to have forgotten the stable and the manger. They who are offended at this circumstance, and ashamed to own their Lord in his deep humiliation, have but very imperfectly learned the apostle's lesson ; " God forbid that I should glory, save in " the cross of Christ Jesus my Lord." * Rev. iii. 18. LETTER IV. 125 from the scriptures ol the Old Testameut. which clothes the soul, as a most suitable aud commo- dious garment; which covers every deformity and every sin ; and presents the believer, free from shame, and free from blemish ; before the throne of the Majesty in the heavens. This, to use the delicate language, and amiable image of Isaiah, this doctrine, embraced by a realizing faith, is the only pillow of rest, " wherewith ye may cause the weary and heavy laden soul to find repose ;" and this is the sovereign cordial, prepared by infinite mercy, for the refreshment of anxious and desponding trans- gressors. O! let us not be in the number of those proud and refractory creatures, who, though they infi- nitely needed, " yet would not hear"* the gracious news, nor receive the unspeakable benefit. In this respect, and in this most eminently, is that other say- ing of the same sublime teacher, true; " The Lord of hosts shall be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, to the residue of his people. "f Shall we tear from our temples, or reject with disdain, this un- fading and heavenly ornament, in order to substitute a mean and ordinary chaplet of our own. Let me add a pertinent passage from one of our cele- brated dramatic writers ; which, if proper in his sense, will be incomparably more so, according to our man- ner of application. -It were contemning, With impious self-sufficient arrogance, This bounty of our God, not to accept, With every mark of honour, such a gift. I might proceed to urge this expostulation of the poet, as I might easily have multiplied my quotations from holy writ. But, studious of brevity, I leave both, without enlargement, to your own meditation. Yet more studious of my friend's happiness, I cannot con- clude without wishing him an interest, a clear and established interest, in this everlasting righteousness * Isa, xxviii. 12. t Isa, xxviii. 5. 120 ASPASIO TO THERON. Faith in Christ's righteousness springs from the ruins of self-sufficiency. of Christ. For so, and so only, can he have " ever- lasting consolation and good hope through grace." 1 am, my dear Theron, Inviolably yours, ASPASIO. P. S. Opposite to the room in which I write, is a most agreeable prospect of the gardens and the fields ; these covered with herbage, and loaded with corn ; those adorned with flowers, and abounding with escu- lents: all appearing with so florid and so beautiful an aspect, that they really seem, in conformity to the psal- mist's description, even to laugh and sing. Let me just observe, that all these fine scenes, all these rich productions, sprung, from what? From the dissolu- tion of the respective seeds. The seeds planted by the gardener, and the grain sowed by the husbandman, first perished in the ground, and then the copious in- crease arose. Much in the same manner, a true faith in Christ and his righteousness arises, from what? From the ruins of self-sufficiency, and the death of personal excellency. Let me therefore entreat my Theron, still to take the diary for his counsellor; still to keep an eye on the depravity of his nature, and the miscarriages of his life. The more clearly we see, the more deeply we feel, our guilt and our misery, the more highly we value the obedience of our blessed Surety. In such a heart, faith will flourish as a rose, and lift up its head like a cedar in Lebanon. To such a soul, the great Redeem- er's righteousness will be welcome, as waters to the thirsty soil, or as rivers in the sandy desert. ,//'"' LETTER V. 127 ry^N^x^^x^x^x^t^N^M A remarkable panic. ^S^N^-t^N^X^S^S^S^S^M LETTER V. ASPASIO TO THERON. me leave to relate an uncommon incident, which happened a little while ago in this neighbour- hood, and of which I myself was a spectator. The day was the sabbath ; the place appropriated to divine worship, was the scene of this remarkable affair. A boy came running into the church breathless and trembling. He told, but in a low voice, those who stood near, that a pressgang* was advancing to besiege the doors, and arrest the sailors. An alarm was imme- diately taken. The sea-men with much hurry, and no small anxiety, began to shift for themselves. The rest of the congregation, perceiving an unusual stir, were struck with surprise. A whisper of inquiry ran from seat to seat; which increased, by degrees, into a con- fused murmur. No one could inform his neighbour; therefore every one was left to solve the appearance, from the suggestions of a timorous imagination. Some suspected the town was on fire. Some were appre- hensive of an invasion from the Spaniards. Others looked up, and looked round, to see if the walls were not giving way, and the roof falling upon their heads. In a few moments, the consternation became general. The men stood like statues, in silent amazement, and unavailing perplexity. The women shrieked aloud; fell into fits ; sunk to the ground in a swoon. Nothing * The reader, it is hoped, will excuse whatever may appear low, or favour of the plebeian, in any of these circumstances. If Aspasio had set himself to invent the description of a panic, he would probably have formed it upon some raised and dignified incident. But as this was a real matter of fact, which lately happened in one of our sea-port towns ; truth, even in a plain dress, may possibly be no less acceptable than fiction, tricked up with the most splendid embellishments. 128 ASPASIO TO THERON. ^^VXS^V^VXV^V^S^W^V^-^^-^'^"*^' Terrors of the day of judgment. ^v^v^VXS^*XN^^*XSrf^^^"sXV^ was seen but wild disorder ; nothing heard, but tumul- tuous clamour. Drowned was the preacher's voice. Had he spoke in thunder, his message would scarce have been regarded. To have gone on with his work, amidst such a prodigious ferment, had been like argu- ing with a whirlwind, or talking to a tempest. This brought to my mind that great tremendous day, when the heavens will pass away ; when the earth will be dissolved ; and all its inhabitants receive their final doom. If, at such incidents of very inferior dread, our hearts are ready to fail ; what unknown and inconceiv- able astonishment, must seize the guilty conscience, when the hand of the Almighty shall open those un- paralleled scenes of wonder, desolation, and horror! when the trumpet shall sound, the dead arise, the world be in flames, the Judge on the throne, and all mankind at the bar! " The trumpet shall sound,"* says the prophetic teacher. And how startling, how stupendous the sum- mons ! Nothing equal to it, nothing like it, was ever heard through all the regions of the universe, or all the revolutions of time. When conflicting armies have discharged the bellowing artillery of war, or when vic- torious armies have shouted for joy of the conquest, the seas and shores have rung, the mountains and plains have echoed. But the shout of the archangel, and the trump of God, will resound from pole to pole; will pierce the centre, and shake the pillars of heaven. Stronger, stronger still ! it will penetrate even the deepest recesses of the tomb. It will pour its amaz- ing thunder into all those abodes of silence. The dead, the very dead, shall hear. When the trumpet has sounded, the dead shall arise. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, the graves open, the monumental piles are cleft asunder, and the nations underground start into day. What an immense harvest of men and women, springing up from the ca- verns of the earth, and the depths of the sea ! Stand 1 Cor. xv. 52. LETTER V. 129 ^*e a while, my soul, and consider the wonderful spectacle. Adam formed in paradise, and the babe born but yesterday, the earliest ages, and latest generations, meet upon the level. Jews and Gentiles, Greeks and Barbarians, people of all climes and languages, unite in the promiscuous throng. Here those vast armies, which, like swarms of locusts, covered countries ; which, with an irresistible sweep, overrun empires; here they all appear, and here they all are lost; lost like the small drop of a bucket, when plunged into the unfathomable and boundless ocean. O ! the multi- tudes! the multitudes! which these eyes shall survey, when God " calleth the heavens from above, and the earth, that he may judge his people." What shame must flush the guilty cheek! what anguish wound the polluted breast! to have all their filthy practices, and infamous tempers, exposed before this innumerable crowd of witnesses ! Fly, my Theron ; and fly, my soul; instantly let us fly, earnestly let us fly, to the purifying blood of Jesus; that all onr sins may be blotted out; that we may be found unblameable and unreprovable in the presence of the assembled world ; and, what is infinitely more to be revered, in the sight of the omnipotent God. When the swarm issues, the hive will burn. There is no more need of this habitable globe. The elect have fought the good fight, and finished their course. The wicked have been tried, and found incorrigfble. The important drama is ended : every actor has per- formed his part: now therefore the scenes are taken down, and the stage is demolished. " Woe be to the earth, and to the works thereof!" Its streams are turned into pitch, its dust into brimstone; and the breath of the Almighty, like a torrent of fire, enkindles the whole. See! see! how the conflagration rag;es, spreads, prevails over all ! The forests are in a blaze, and the mountains are wrapt in flame. Cities, king- doms, continents, sink in the burning deluge. London, Britain, Europe, are no more. Through all the recep- tacles of water, through all the tracts of land, through VOL. II. 41. R 130 ASPASIO TO THERON. Terrors of the day ot judgment. f^f ^-^-.f^r-^-^-^-^**^-^-^***--* the extent of air, nothing is discernible, but one vast, prodigious, fiery ruin. Where now are the treasures of the covetous r where the possessions of the mighty ? where the delights of the voluptuary ? How wise, how happy are they, whose portion is lodged in heavenly mansions! Their inheritance is incorruptible and un- defiled ; such as the last fire cannot reach, nor the dissolution of nature impair. But see! the azure vault cleaves; the expanse of heaven is rolled back like a scroll ; and the Judge, the Judge appears! " He corneth," cries a mighty seraph, the herald of his approach, " he corneth to judge the world in righteoviMiess, and minister true judgment unto the people!" He cometh riot as formerly, in the habit of a servant, but clad with uncreated glory, and magnificently attended with the armies of heaven. Angels and archangels stand before him, and ten thou- sand times ten thousand of those celestial spirits minis- ter unto him. Behold him, ye faithful followers of the Lamb; and Bonder and love. This is he, who bore all your iniquities on the ignominious cross. This is he, who fulfilled all righteousness for the justification of your persons. Behold him, ye despisers of his grace; and wonder and perish. This is he, whose merciful overtures you have contemned, and on whose precious blood you have trampled. The great "white throne;"* beyond description august and formidable, is erected. The King of hea- ven, the Lord of glory, takes his seat on the dreadful tribunal. Mercy, on his right hand, displays the olive branch of peace, and holds forth the crown of righte- ousness. Justice, on his left hand, poises the impar- tial scale, and unsheathes the sword of vengeance. While Wisdom and Holiness, brighter than ten thou- sand suns, beam in his divine aspect What are the preceding events, to this new scene of dignity and awe? The peals of thunder, sounding in the archangel's trum- pet ; the blaze of a burning world, and the strong con- * Rev. xx. 11. LETTER V. 131 Terrors of the day of judgment. r^^^^^f *f^-*f^r^r^r^*^r^r--r*^-*r vulsion of expiring nature; the unnumbered myriads of human creatures, starting into instantaneous exist- ence, and thronging the astonished skies; all these seem familiar incidents, compared with the appearance of the incarnate Jehovah. Amazement, more t.ian amazement, is all around. Terror and glory unite in their extremes. From the sight of his majestic eye, from the unsupportable splendours of his fare, the earth itself and the very heavens " flee away."* How then? oh! how shall the ungodly stand ? stand in his angry presence, and draw near to this consuming fire? Yet draw near they must, and take their trial, their decisive trial at his righteous bar. Every action comes under examination. For each idle word they must give account. Not so much as a secret thought escapes this exact scrutiny. How shall the criminals, the im- penitent criminals, either conceal their guilt, or elude the sentence? They have to do with a sagacity too keen to be deceived, with a power too strong to be re- sisted, and (O ! terrible, terrible consideration) with a severity of most just displeasure, that will never relent, never be entreated more. What ghastly despair low- ers on their pale looks ! What racking agonies rend their distracted hearts! The bloody axe and the tor- turing wheel, are ease, are down, compared with their prodigious woe. And (O holy God ! wonderful iti thy doings! fearful in thy judgments!) even this prodigious woe is the gentlest of visitations, compared with that indignation and wrath, which are hanging over their guilty heads; which are even now falling on all the sons of rebellion ; which will plunge them deep in ag- gravated and endless destruction. And is there a last day? and must there come A sure, a fix'd irrevocable doom ? " Surely then," to use the words of a pious prelate,"}* " It should be the main care of our lives and deaths, what shall give us peace and acceptation before the * Rev. xx. 11. t Bishop Hall. 132 . ASPASIO TO THERON. f^r*r-^-^^r^r^-^ ^-^^-^r-^r-^ Christ and his righteousness, dreadful tribunal of God. What but righteousness? What righteousness, or whose? Our's, or Christ's? Our's, in the inherent graces wrought in us, in the holy works wrought by us ; or Christ's, in his most perfect obedience, and meritorious satisfaction, wrought for us, and applied to us? The popish faction is for the former. We protestants are for the latter. God is as direct on our side, as his word can make him; every where blazoning the defects of our own righteousness, every where extolling the perfect obedience of our Redeemer's." " Behold !" says the everlasting King, " I lay in Zion, for a foundation, a stone ; a tried stone ; a pre- cious corner stone; a sure foundation: He that be- lieveth shall not make haste."* As this text contains so noble a display of our Saviour's consummate ability for his great work ; as it is admirably calculated to preserve the mind from distressing fears, and to settle it in a steady tranquillity; you will give me leave to touch it cursorily with my pen; just as I should des- cant upon it in conversation, was I now sitting in one of your agreeable arbours, and enjoying your more agreeable company. How beautiful the gradation! how lively the descrip- tion ! and how very important the practical improve- ment! or, I might say, the inscription which is engraven on this wonderful stone. " Behold !" Intended to rouse and fix our most attentive regard. The God of heaven speaks. He speaks, and every syllable is balm ; every sentence is rich with consolation. If ever there- fore we have ears to hear, let it be to this Speaker, and on this occasion. " A stone." Every thing else is sliding sand ; is yielding air; is a breaking bubble. Wealth will prove a vain shadow ; honour an empty breath ; pleasure a delusory dream ; our own righteousness a spider's web. If on these we rely, disappointment must en- sue, and shame be inevitable. Nothing but Christ, * Isa. xxviii. 16. LETTER V. 133 the only sure foundation. r-^-^-^^-^-^-^-^-^r-- f^-.f nothing but Christ, can stahly support our spiritual interest, and realize our expectation of true happiness. And blessed be the divine goodness ! he is, for this purpose, not a stone only, but " A tried stone." Tried, in the days of his huma- nity, by all the vehemence of temptations, and all the weight of afflictions ; yet, like gold from the furnace, rendered more shining and illustrious by the fiery scrutiny. Tried, under the capacity of a Saviour, by millions and millions of depraved, wretched, ruined creatures ; who have always found him perfectly able, and as perfectly willing, to expiate the most enormous guilt; to deliver from the most inveterate corruptions; and save, to the very utmost, all that come unto God through him. " A corner stone:" which not only sustains, but unites the edifice; incorporating both Jews and Gen- tiles, believers of various languages, and manifold denominations : here in one harmonious bond of bro- therly love ; hereafter in one common participation of eternal joy. " A precious stone." More precious than rubies; the pearl of great price; and the desire of all nations. Precious with regard to the divine benignity of his person, and the unequalled excellency of his media- torial offices. In these and in all respects, greater than Jonah, wiser than Solomon, fairer than the children of men, chiefest among ten thousand, and, to the awakened sinner, or enlightened believer, " al- together lovely."* " A sure foundation :"f such as no pressure can shake; equal, more than equal to every weight; even to sin, the heaviest load in the world. " The Rock of ages ;" such as never has failed, never will fail, those humble penitents, who cast their burden upon the Lord Redeemer; who rollj all their guilt, and fix * Cant. v. 10. t Fundamentum fundatissiraum. J Roll This is the exact sense of the sacred phrase mrv Vt* *73 Psa. xxii. 8. xxxvii. 5. Prov. xvi. 3. I ant not ignorant, that some 134 ASPASIO TO THERON. The true believer shall stand unapplied their whole hopes, on this immoveable basis. Or, as the words may be rendered, a foundation! a founda- tion !* There is a fine spirit of vehemency in the sen- tence, thus understood. Jt speaks the language of exultation, and expresses an important discovery. That which mankind infinitely want; that which multitudes seek, and find not; it is here! it is here! This, this is the foundation for their pardon, their peace, their eternal felicity. " Whosoever believeth," though pressed with ad- versities, or surrounded by dangers, shall riot make haste :f but, free from tumultuous and perplexing people have presumed to censure, and many have been shy of using, this hold and vigorous metaphor; which nevertheless appears 1o me, of all others, the most just, the most significant, and therefore the most truly beautiful. A burden that is manageable and comparatively light, we cast, we throw. But that which is extremely ponderous and quite unwieldy, we move only by rolling. Accordingly stones of an enormous size are called, by the oriental writers, stones of rolling, Ezra v. 8. Consider the expression in this view, and represent, with greater or with equal energy, that prodigious load, which, heavier than the sand of the sea, oppresses the guilty conscience. By substituting any other word, we enfeeble and dilute the sense; we lose the capital and striking idea. Vain man would be wise. Let him not then, for the credit of his ingenuity, adventure to correct the language of omniscience. This, if any thing in nature, is Periculosae plenum opus aleae. This will be sure to discover, not his fine taste, but his grovelling apprehension, and his rampant pride. To improve, with the painter's brush, the glowing colours of the rainbow; to heighten, by fuller's soap, the lustre of the new fallen snow ; would be a more modest at- tempt, and a much easier task, than to make an index expurgatory, or a table of errata, when the Spirit of inspiration dictates. * 1D1Q 1DVD t Shall not make haste, U7TP tob This metaphorical expression, though it may be very intelligible to an Hebrew, is, to an English reader, like some fine picture placed in a disadvantageous light. We may possibly illustrate the prophet's meaning, and exemplify his as- sertion, if we compare the conduct of Moses, with that of the Is- raelites, on viewing the fatal catastrophe of Dathan and Abiram. When the earth trembled under their feet ; when the ground opened its horrid jaws ; when the presumptuous sinners went down alive into LETTER V. 135 amidst the dissolution of all things. thoughts, preserved from rash and precipitate steps, he shall possess his patience ; knowing the sufficiency of those merits, and the fidelity of that grace, on which he has reposed his confidence, shall quietly and with- out perturbation wait for an expected end. And not only amidst the perilous or disastrous changes of life, but even in the day of everlasting judgment, such persons shall stand with boldness. They shall look up to the grand Arbitrator, look round on all the solemnity of his appearance, look forward to the unalterable sentence, and neither feel anxiety, nor fear damnation. Such, in that day of terrors, shall be seen To face the thunders with a godlike mien. The planets drop; their thoughts are fix'd above: The centre shakes ; their hearts disdain to move. This portion of scripture, which, I hope, will both delight and edify my friend, recalls our attention to the subject of my present letter; to those propitiatory suf- ferings, and tltat justifying righteousness, which, im- puted to sinners, are the ground of their comfort, and the bulwark of their security. And what say the writers of the New Testament upon this point? they, whose understandings were opened by the " Wonder- ful Counsellor," to discern the meaning of the ancient oracles ; who must therefore be the most competent judges of their true import, and our surest guides in settling their sense. Do they patronize our interpre- tation of the prophets ? do they set their seal to the authenticity of our doctrine? the pit ; when the tremendous chasm closed upon the screaming wretches ; the children of Israel, it is written, " fled at the cry of them ; fled in wild and hasty confusion : for they said, Lest the earth swallow us up also." But Moses, who denounced the dreadful doom ; Moses, who was sure of the divine protection ; Moses made no such precipitate or disorderly haste. He stood calm and com- posed ; saw the whole alarming transaction, without any uneasy emo- tions of fear, or any unnecessary attempts to escape. So that his behaviour seems to be a clear and apposite comment on Isaiah's phrase. See Numb. xvi. 136 ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, ^S^,*'^^S^S^-vXV*'^.^.^^V^S^N*-v*V-^s^ St. Luke, in his ecclesiastical history, has preserved this weighty declaration of the apostles ; " We believe, that through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we shall be saved even as they."* Here the thing is im- plied. St. Peter, in the introduction to one of his theological epistles, thus addresses his happy corres- pondents: " To them that have obtained like precious faith, in the righteousness^ of our God and Saviour Jesus Christ." Here the point is expressly asserted. With equal clearness is the doctrine delivered by Matthew the evangelist; " Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness.''^ What can the " kingdom of God" mean? An experience of the power, and an enjoyment of the privileges of the gos- pel. What are we to understand by " his righteous- ness?" Surely, the righteousness which is worthy of this grand appellation, and peculiar to that blessed institution. Would we learn what is the great and distinguish- ing peculiarity of the gospel ? St. Paul informs us, " Therein the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith." As this text leads us into the epistle to the Romans ; as this epistle is, for the propriety of its method, as well as for the importance of its doctrine, singularly excellent, it may not be amiss to examine its structure, and inquire into its design. The apostle writes to a promiscuous people; who had been converted, partly from Judaism, partly from Gentilism. His aim is, to strike at the very root of their former errors respectively ; to turn them wholly to the superabundant grace of God, and establish them solely on the all-sufficient merits of Christ. * Acts xv. 11. t 2 Pet. i. 1. The phrase is ij-i tnuuowm. If we retain' the common translation, it proves another very momentous truth : " that the righteousness of our God, even of our Saviour Jesus Christ," is the one meritorious procuring cause of all spiritual blessings; of faith, as well as of fruition : of grace, as well as of glory. I Matt. vi. 33. LETTER V. demonstrated from the New Testament. The Gentiles were for the most part, grossly igno- rant of God, and stupidly negligent of invisible in- terests. If any among them had a sense of religion, their virtues, they imagined, were meritorious of all that the Deity could bestow. If they fell into sin ; sin, they supposed, might easily be obliterated by repen- tance, or compensated by a train of sacrifices.* A few of their judicious sages taught, that the most probable means of securing the divine favour, was a sincere re- formation of life. The Jews, it is well known, placed a mighty depen- dence on their affinity to Abraham, and the covenant made with their fathers; on their adherence to the letter of the moral law, and their scrupulous per- formance of ceremonial institutions : Gentiles and Jews agreeing in this mistake, that they looked for the pardon of guilt, and the attainment of happiness, from some service done, or some qualities acquired by themselves. Against these errors the zealous apostle draws his pen. He enters the lists like a true champion of Christ, in the most spirited and heroic manner ima- * See Witsii Animadversiones Irenica, cap. vii. A choice little piece of polemical divinity; perhaps the very best that is extant. In which the most important controversies are fairly stated, accurately discussed, and judiciously determined ; with a perspicuity of sense, and a solidity of reasoning, exceeded by nothing, but the remark- able conciseness, and the still more remarkable candour of the sen- timents. The Oeconomia Foederum, written by the same hand, is a body of divinity ; in its method so well digested ; in its doctrines so truly evangelical ; and (what is not very usual with our systematic writers) in its language so refined and elegant, in its manner so affectionate and animating, that I would venture to recommend it to every young student in divinity. I would not scruple to risk all my reputation upon the merits of this performance; and cannot but lament it, as one of my greatest losses, that I was no sooner acquainted with this most excellent author. All whose works have such a delicacy of com- position, and such a sweet savour of holiness, that I know not any comparison more proper to represent their true character, than the golden pot which had manna; and was outwardly bright with bur- nished gold inwardly, rich with heavenly food. VOL. it, 41. s 138 ASPASIO TO THERON. *^*^*^-^-^^^-^-^-^-^-^*^-^-^-^-^-^-^r-. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, ginable. " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ:" for, however it may be deemed foolishness by the polite Greeks, or prove a stumbling block to the car- nal Jews, " it is the power of God unto salvation ;"* it is the grand instrument, which he has ordained for this blessed purpose, and which he will certainly crown with the desired success. Whence has the gospel this very peculiar power? Because therein a righteousness is revealed ; a true and perfect righteous- ness, which obliterates all guilt, and furnishes a solid title to eternal life. What righteousness is this? The righteousness, not of man, but of God ; which was promised by God in the scriptures, was introduced by God in the person of his Son; and, on account of its consummate excellency, is both acceptable and avail- able in his sight. This righteousness is " from faith to faith ;"f held forth, as it were, by a promising God, and appre- hended by a believing soul ; who, first, gives a firm assent to the gospel ; then, cordially accepts its bless- ings ; from a conviction that the doctrine is true, passes to a persuasion that the privileges are his own. When this is effected, a foundation is laid for all happiness ; a principle is wrought to produce all ho- liness. But why was it requisite, that such a righteousness should be provided by God, and revealed in the gos- pel? Because both Gentile and Jew neither pos- sessed, nor could attain, any righteousness of their own ; and this righteousness, though so absolutely necessary for their fallen state, was infinitely remote from all human apprehensions. The latter assertion is self-evident. The former is particularly demon- strated. First, with regard to the Gentiles ; the ge- nerality ot \\hom were abandoned to the most scan- dalous excesses; and they who had escaped the grosser pollutions, fell short in the duties of natural religion. Next, with regard to the Jews; many of * Rom. i. 16. t Rom. i. 17. LETTER V. 139 ^VXVX-^V^S^-^VX ^V^^NI demonstrated from the New Testament. whom lived in open violation of the external com- mandment: and not one of them acted up to the in- ternal purity required by the Mosaic precepts. From which premises, this conclusion is deduced, that each of them had transgressed even their own ride of action; that all of them were, on this account, utterly inex- cusable: therefore, by the works of the law, whether dictated by reason, or delivered by Moses, " no mor- tal can be justified"* in the sight of God. Lest any should imagine, that righteousness may be obtained, if not by a conformity to the law of na- ture, or the law of Moses, yet by an observation of evangelical ordinances ; he farther declares, that sin- ners are justified freely, without any regard to their own endowments; " through the redemption, the com- plete redemption of Jesus Christ :"f after such a man- ner, as may bring life and salvation to their souls, while all the glory reverts to God the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ. In the prosecution of this very momentous subject, our sacred disputant removes an objection, which is as common, as it is plausible. " Do we make void the law through faith?" Do we render it a vain institu- tion ; such as never has been, never will be fulfilled ? God forbid ! This was a flagrant dishonour to the divine Legislator and his holy commandments ; such as we would abhor, rather than countenance. On the contrary, " we establish the law ;'';{; not only as we receive it for a rule of life, but we expect no salvation without a proper, without a perfect conformity to its * Rom. iii. 20. There seems to be a kind of humbling or de- grading turn in the apostle's language, nota-a. ^'-.^s^,^>^s^^^t demonstrated from the New Testament. *N^.^,^S^,^S^,^-.^-, 1 ^S^- s XN^S^V^N^^*^X^ > X person ; not as having any claim to the divine favour, on account of deserving performances, or recommend- ing properties ; but as owing all his acceptance to that sovereign grace, which forgives iniquities, and blots out sin. Such is the case with regard to that evan- gelical justification which we preach. Even as it is, in the manner of vouchsafement, perfectly similiar to the blessedness celebrated by the psalmist." The apostle's eye is not so directly upon the nature of the privilege, as upon the freeness with which it is granted. Nor can any infer from the tenor of his reasoning, that to be forgiven is to be justified ; only that both are acts of infinitely rich mercy, designed for sinners, promised to sinners, bestowed on sinners: who have nothing, nothing of their own either to boast, or to plead. In the fifth chapter, from verse the twelfth to the end, the sacred penman points out the cause, and ex- plains the method of justification. Of which this is the sum: That Christ, in pursuance of the covenant of grace, fulfilled all righteousness in the stead of his people: That this righteousness, being performed for them, is imputed to them : That, by virtue of this gra- cious imputation, they are absolved from guilt, and entitled to bliss; as thoroughly absolved,, and as fully entitled, as if in their own persons they had undergone the expiatory sufferings, and yielded the meritorious obedience. Lest it should seem strange, in the opinion of a Jew or a Gentile, to hear of being justified by the righteousness of another, the wary apostle urges a pa- rallel case, recorded in the Jewish revelation, but rati- fied by universal experience ;* namely, our being con- demned for the unrighteousness of another. In this respect, he observes, Adam was a type of our Lord ; or " a figure of him that was to come."f The rela- tions the same, but the effects happily reversed. Adam * By the pains and death which infants, in every nation, endure ; which are unquestionably punishments, and to which they are doomed by the righteous judgment of God. t Rom. v. 14. 142 ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, the head of his posterity ; Christ the head of his peo- ple. Adam's sin was imputed to all his natural de- scendants; Christ's righteousness is imputed to all his spiritual offspring. Adam's transgression brought death into the world, and all our woe; Christ's obe- dience brings life, and all our happiness.* The whole closes with this very obvious, and no less weighty in- ference; " Therefore as, by the offence of one, judg- ment came upon all men to condemnation ; even so, by the righteousness of one, the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life. "f I do not recollect any other similitude, which the apostle so minutely sifts, and so copiously unfolds. He explains it ; he applies it; he resumes it; he dwells upon it; and scarcely knows how to desist from it. I am sure, you will not blame me, if I imitate the sa- cred author ; revert to the subject, and quote another passage from the same paragraph. " Much more shall they who receive abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness, reign in .life by one, Jesus Christ.";); Here, I am ready to think, the inspired writer puts a difference between the two grand blessings purchased by Emmanuel, remission and righteousness. For who are the persons which receive abundance of grace? They, 1 apprehend, that having sinned much, have much forgiven. Who are the persons which reeeive abundance of the gift of righteousness? They that, having in their own conduct wrought out none, which will bear the test of God's impartial scrutiny, have one placed to their account, which the all-seeing eye of heaven approves. However, whether the distinction I * Quemadmodum peccatum Adami, says Bengelius, sine peccatis qute postea cominisinius, niorteni attulit nobis; sic justitia Christi, sine bonis operibus, quae deinceps a nobis fiunt, vitam nobis conciliat. That is, As the sin of Adam, without any concurrence of the sins which we ourselves respectively commit, occasioned our ruin ; so the righte- ousness of Christ, abstracted from all consideration of our personal obedience, procures our recovery. t Rom. v. 18. j Rom. v. 17. Non tantuiu peccata sublata, sed justitia praestita. LETTER V. 143 ^^.^^^>^>*^^^^^^^>>*^w*^^^*^^ demonstrated from the New Testament. ^^x^'N^>* fc ^v N ^ 1 s^v*v^s^',^v^'^"^' > ^^N^>^v* have ventured to propose, be fanciful or substantial, of this I am persuaded, that the gift of righteousness* must signify a righteousness, not originally their own, but another's; not what they themselves have acquired, but what was fulfilled by their Surety; and is, by an act of heavenly indulgence, consigned over to them. Accordingly, it is represented, not as a work, but as a gift ; and those who are interested in it, are styled not workers, but receivers. I should but faintly copy the apostolic example, if I did not once again avail myself of this important topic. Suffer me, therefore, to transcribe one more verse from this admirable chapter. " As by the disobedience of one man many were made sinners ; so, by the obedi- ence of one shall many be made righteous."! The disobedience of one is the disobedience of Adam ; his actual transgression of the divine law. Hereby many were made sinners ; sinners, in such a sense, as to become obnoxious unto condemnation and death. All this, I think, is, from the apostle's own words, indisputable. And if we would preserve the propriety * I cannot but wonder at the assertion of a late writer, who roundly declares, " That there is not one word in this whole chapter relating to the antecedent obedience of Christ's life, but expressing only his passive obedience. Must then this group of expressions hxatutrvrn ^txatvpa vira,x.ori be confined barely to the sufferings of our Lord? To put such a sense upon the words of the apostle, is, according to my apprehension, not to hear his voice but to gag his mouth ; not to acquiesce in the sacred oracles, but to make them speak our own meaning. Beza, who perhaps is inferior to no critic with regard to a masterly skill in the Greek language, thus explains hxottup* ; Justifi- cationis est materia, nempe Christi obedientia ; cujus imputatio nos justos facit. Mintert, in his accurate and copious lexicon of the Greek Testament, gives this interpretation of $metK>ervti) : Opera Christo a patre praescripta hoc nomine venient; uimiram omni quae ab ipso praestanda erant, tarn ad legis divinae impletionem, quam ad generis human! redemptionem : quae nobis imputata, et per fidem accepta, faciunt, ut eorum Deo justificemur. And as for weuton, surely that cannot, without the utmost violence to its native signification, be so applied to the passive, as to exclude the active obedience. The con- trary notion, if an artful disputant should espouse it, might appear somewhat plausible ; but this has not the least air of probability. t Rom. v. 19. ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, of his antithesis, or the force of his reasoning, we must allow that the obedience of one is the obedience of Christ ; his actual and complete performance of the whole law. Hereby many are made righteous : righ- teous in such a sense, as to be released from condem- nation, and vested with a title to life eternal. How clear and easy is this meaning! how just and regular this argumentation ! What subtilty of evasion must be used, to give a different turn to the instructive text! This is the most consistent sense in which I can understand, Rom. viii. 5. " That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit:" That the righteous- ness required by the holy but broken law, might be thoroughly accomplished ; accomplished by our public Representative, and in our human nature; so as to be deemed, in point of legal estimation, fulfilled for us and by us.* This, I say, is most consistent with the tenor of St. Paul's arguing, and with the exact import of his language. With the tenor of his arguing: for he undertakes to demonstrate the impossibility of our justification, by any personal conformity to the law. Whereas, if we could satisfy its penalty, and obey its precepts, or, in other words, fulfil its righteousness ; this impossibility would cease. With the exact import of his language: for the original phrase denotes, not a sincere, but a complete obedience; not what we are enabled to perform, but what the law has a rightf to demand. Which every one must acknowledge, is not * It is remarked by a judicious critic, and very valuable expositor, that the preposition e sometimes signifies by or for; and is so trans- lated, Matt. v. 34. Heb. i. 1. See Dr. Guyse's exposition of the New Testament. t It may be worth our while to observe, that St. Paul, when treating on this subject, uses three distinct words, all derived from the same original. Aixaiwcnj, which expresses justification; the accounting or declaring a person righteous. Axoiru)?, which never signifies justi- fication, but righteousness either performed by us, or imputed to us. Aixajaj/Aa, the phrase which occurs in this place, and denotes the right or demand of the law ; as that which is indispensably necessary to the justification of mai. 5 LETTER V. 145 demonstrated from the New Testament. fulfilled in any mere man since the fall; but was ful- filled by Jesus Christ, for our good, and in our stead. This interpretation preserves the sentences dis- tinct, and makes a very natural introduction for the following clause ; where the persons interested in this privilege, are described by their fruits, " who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit:" implying that justification and sanctification are, like the ever cor- responding motion of our eyes, inseparable concomi- tants; and we vainly pretend to the former, if we con- tinue destitute of the latter. We have produced positive proofs of our doctrine. We have heard an apostle declaring the assured hap- piness, and complete justification of true believers. Let us now observe the same sagacious judge of men and things, discovering the danger of those self- justiciaries, who reject the Redeemer's righteousness. He is filled with the darkest apprehensions, con- cerning his brethren the Jews. He is impressed with melancholy presages, relating to their eternal state.* What was the cause of this tender solicitude ? Had they cast off all religion, and given themselves over to gross immoralities? On the contrary, they were wor- shippers of the true God ; and had in their way, not only a regard, but a zeal for his honour.f Wherefore then does this compassionate father in Israel, feel the same trembling uneasiness, for his kinsmen according to the flesh, as Eli felt for the endangered ark ? Him- self assigns the reason : Because " they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted them- selves to the righteousness of God."J Not knowing that immaculate holiness, which the perfect nature, and equally perfect law of the most high God, re- quire; being wilfully ignorant of that consummate obedience, which an incarnate God vouchsafed to per- form, for the justification of his people ; they sedu- lously, but foolishly endeavoured, to establish their , : . - * Rom. ix. 2. t Ron*. * 2. J Rom. x. 3. VOL. IK 41, T 146 ASPASIO TO THERON. "V^^v^V^^^-v*VV^^V^>v*V*"v*>^-^V^S*V> Christ's righteodsncss, and its imputation, own righteousness ; to make it, scanty and decrepit as it was, the basis of their hopes. Thus were they resting their everlasting all on a bottom, not precari- ous only, but irreparably ruinous. A boundless eter- nity the fabric ! yet they built (wonder, O heavens!) on the foam of the waters ! and (which added stub- bornness to their folly) in avowed contempt of that strong and sure foundation, laid by God's own hand in Zion. For this the good apostle was afflicted, with " great heaviness and continual sorrow." For this he made the prophet's pathetic complaint his own: " Oh! that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might bewail, day and night,"* the incor- rigible perverseness of my people. " For my people have committed two evils ;" in not thankfully submit- ting to the righteousness of God, *' they have forsaken the fountain of living waters ;" in attempting to esta- blish their own righteousness, " they have hewed themselves out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water."f Having shewed their fatal error, he strengthens his representation, by displaying the happy success of the Gentiles. What shall we say then? This, however improbable it may seem, we confidently affirm, " That the Gentiles, who followed not after righteousness," who had no knowledge of it, and no concern about it; " even they have attained to righteousness. "J Strange assertion! How is this possible? Doubtless, the righteousness which they have attained, could not be any personal righteousness. Of this they were totally destitute. Instead of practising moral virtues, or re- ligious duties, they were immersed in sensuality, and abandoned to idolatry. It must therefore be the * Jer. ix. 1. t Jer. ii. 13. I Surely, this must signify more than " attaining to the profession of a religion, whereby they may be justified and saved." To this multitudes attain, who continue, as the prophet speaks, " stout hearted and far from righteousness," who derive no real benefit from their profession : but are rendered utterly inexcusable, and liable to more aggravated condemnation. LETTER v. 147 demonstrated from the New Testament. evangelical, the imputed righteousness, " even that which was wrought by Christ, and is received by faith."* Israel, in the mean time, the nominal Israel, who, with great pretensions to sanctity, and many costly oblations, " followed after the law of righteous- ness, hath not attained to the law of righteousness." Attained ! They have done something less. They are fallen vastly short of it; they are pronounced guilty by it ; they stand condemned before it.f Wherefore did they so grossly mistake, and so grievously miscarry ? Because they forsook the good old way, in which Abraham, David, and their pious ancestors walked. They adopted a new scheme; and would fain have substituted their own, instead of rely- ing on a Saviour's righteousness. " They sought for justification," not by faith, but as it were " by the works of the law.";]; A method which their fathers knew not; which their God ordained not: and which proved, as it always will prove, not only abortive, but destructive. At this stone they stumbled ; on * Surely, the righteousness which is by faith, cannot consist " in humbly committing the soul to Christ, in the way that he hath ap- pointed." According to this notion, the justifying righteousness would spring from ourselves ; would be constituted by an act of our own, and not by the perfect obedience of our Lord. I am sorry to see this, and the preceding interpretation, in ihe works of an expositor, whose learning I admire, whose piety I re- verence, and whose memory I honour. Yet I must say, on this occa- sion, with one of the ancient philosophers, " Ainicus Plato, amicus Socrates, sed magis arnica, veritas. t This, 1 apprehend, is the purport of the apostle's speech, when he tells us, that his countrymen " had not attained unto the law of righteousness." He uses the figure piivax and means more than he expresses, somewhat like the dramatic poet, who says of certain lite- rary pretenders. Qui se primos esse rerum omnium existijnant, Nee tamen sunt. That is, they are quite the reverse Or like the apostle in the close of this chapter, who assures the believers in Jesus, " They shall not be ashamed :" that is, they shall be encouraged, emboldened, established. J Rom. ix. 80, 31, 32. f 48 ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, this rock they split. Let their ruin be a way-mark, and the apostle's observation a light-house to my Theron. Our zealous writer tries every expedient. He mingles hope with terror. Having pointed out the rock on which the Israelites suffered shipwreck, he directs us to the haven, in which sinners may cast anchor, and find safety. He gives us a fine descrip- tive view of the Christian's complete happiness. He opens (if I may continue the metaphor) a free and am- ple port for perishing souls ; riot formed by a neck of land, or a ridge of mountains, but by a magnificent chain of spiritual blessings. All proceeding from, and terminating in, that precious corner-stone Jesus Christ: "who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctitication, and redemption ;"* wisdom, to enlighten our ignorant minds ; righteous- ness^ to justify our guilty persons; sanctification,f to renew our depraved natures; redemption, to rescue us from all evil, and render us, both in body and soul, perfectly and eternally happy, Let it be re- marked, how carefully our inspired writer sets aside all sufficiency, as well as all merit in man. He re- presents the whole of our salvation, both in its pro- curement and application, as a work of freest grace. Christ is, and not we ourselves, the author of this glo- rious restoration, the cause of this great felicity. He * i Cor. i. 30. t Righteousness and sanetification ; the former imputed, the latter inherent. This preserves a distinction between the noble articles, and assigns to each a grand share in the economy of salvation. To say, that if one of the blessings is communicated by way of imputa- tion, the other should be communicated in the same manner, seems to be cavilling, rather than arguing: because the subjects are of a different nature, and therefore must be enjoyed in a different way. The cocoa tree is, to the American, food and clothing, a habitation and domestic utensils. But must we suppose it administering to all these uses in one and the same unvaried method 1 Because in one re- spect it is eaten, in another it is wore, must it be thus applied in all] I believe, the illiterate savage, who enjoys the several gifts, need not be taught the absurdity of such a supposition. LETTER V. 149 demonstrated from the New Testament. is made all this unto us. How? INot by our own re- solution and strength ; but of God, by the agency of his mighty power, and blessed Spirit. He shews us the all-sufficient fulness of Christ. He brings us by ardent longings to Chri.st. He implants us into Christ, and makes us partakers of his merits. In the process of the same epistle, the sacred pen* man enumerates the constituent parts of that great sal- vation, which the Son of God has procured for ruined sinners. " But ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God."* Ye are washed ; cleansed from the h'lth, and discharged from the guilt of all your ini* quities. Ye are sanctified ; delivered from the death of sin, and endued with a living principle of holiness. Ye are justified ; restored to a state of acceptance with God, and invested with a title to eternal glory. All which inestimable prerogatives are conferred upon the true believer, " in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ ;" in consideration of his atoning blood, and meritorious righteousness. " By the Spirit of our God ;" through the efficacy of his operation, revealing Christ, and working faith in the heart. Some gentlemen have talked of a new remedial law; whereas the apostle declares. " that Christ is the end of the" old, the unalterable, the " Mosaic law, for righ- teousness to every one that belie veth."f-^- Follow the course of a river, it will constantly lead you to the ocean. Trace the veins of the body, they invariably unite in the heart. Mark likewise the tendency of the law, it no less constantly and invariably conducts you to Christ, as the centre of its views, and the consum- mation of its demands. The moral law aims at discovering onr guilt, and demonstrating our inexpressible need of a Saviour. The ceremonial points him out, as suffering in our stead, making reconciliation for iniquity, and purg- ing away every defilement with his blood. They * I Cor. vi. 11. t Rom. x. 1. 150 ASPASIO TO THERON. ^^^r^r^-^^~^^r^r^r-r-*r-~*~^-.^-~r-~f-^ Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, both direct the wretched transgressor, to renounce himself, and fly to the Redeemer ; who alone has paid that perfect obedience, and brought in that ever- lasting righteousness, which the sinner wants, and the law exacts; who is, therefore, the only proper accomplishment of the one, and the only suitable sup- ply for the other. What is the grand design of the whole scriptures? St. Paul, displaying their sublime origin, and enu- merating the gracious purposes they are intended to serve, writes thus: " All scripture is given by inspiration of God ; and is profitable for doctrine, to declare and establish truth ; for reproof, to convince of sin, and to refute error : for correction,* or renovation of the heart, and reformation of the life; for instruction in righteousness, in that righteousness, which could never have been learned from any other book, and in which sinful men may appear with comfort before their God. We have seen the principal scope of the law, and the leading design of the scriptures ; let us add one inquiry more. What is the chief office of the Spirit? If all these coincide, and uniformly terminate in the imputed righteousness of Christ, we have a confirma- tion of its reality and excellence, great as man can de- sire, I had almost said, great as God can impart. What says our Lord upon this point? " When he, the Spirit of truth is come, he shall convince^ the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment. Of sin, because they believe not on me ; of righteous- ness, because I go to my Father, and ye see me no more: of judgment, because the Prince of this world is judged.";]: Is it possible for words to be more * Tim. iii. 10. rip? t He shall convince, seems to be the most proper translation of tXty|, as it implies the sure success, which attends the operation of the divine Spirit. Man may reprove, and no conviction ensue, Whereas that almighty Agent not only reproves, but reproves with power; so as to determine the judgment, and sway the affections. \ John xvi. 8, 9, 10, 11. LETTER V. 151 demonstrated from the New Testament. weighty and comprehensive? Here is a summary of Christian faith, and Christian holiness. Not that su- perficial holiness, which is patched up of devotional forms, and goes no farther than external performances; but that which is vital, and springs from the heart; consists in power, not in mere profession ; whose praise, if not of men, who are smitten with pompous outsides, is sure to be of God, who distinguishes the things which are excellent. " He shall convince the world of sin ;" of original and actual sin. The sin of their nature, as well as the sin of their life; the sin of their best deeds, no less than of their criminal commissions, and blameable omissions. Above all, of their sinning against the sovereign, the only remedy, by unbelief; " because they believe not on me." He shall convince of righ- teousness; of the divine Redeemer's righteousness, which the foregoing conviction must render peculiarly welcome; convince them, that it was wrought out in behalf of disobedient and defective mortals; that it is absolutely perfect and sufficient to justify even the most ungodly. Of all which an incontestible proof is given, by his resurrection from the dead, his trium- phant ascension into heaven, and session at the right hand of his Father ; " because I go to my Father, and ye see me no more."* He shall convince of judgment. Those who are humbled under a sense of guilt, and justified through an imputed righteousness, shall be taught by happy experience, that " the Prince of this world is condemned" and dethroned in their hearts ; that their souls are rescued from the tyranny of Satan; are made victorious over their corruptions; and re- stored to the liberty, the glorious liberty of the chil- dren of God. You wonder, perhaps, that I have not strengthened * For if the work had been imperfect in any degree, our Redeemer, instead of taking up his stated and final residence in the regions of glory, must have descended again into this inferior world, to com- plete what was deficient. 152 ASPASIO TO THERON. ^^^*^^r'^^^-^"^^f^~r*^f^*-*-**-*f~*r*-* Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, my cause, by any quotation from the epistle to the Galatians. What 1 design, my dear Theron, is not to accumulate, but to select arguments. However, that I may not disappoint an expectation so reasonable, I proceed to lay before you a very nervous passage, from that masterly piece of sacred controversy. Only let me just observe, that the epistle was written to persons who had embraced Christianity, and pro- fessed an affiance in Christ ; but would fain have joined circumcision, would fain have snperadded their own religious duties, to the merits of their Saviour, in order to constitute, at least, some part of their justify- ing righteousness. Against which error, the vigilant and indefatigable assertor of the truth as it is in Jesus, remonstrates, " We who are Jews by nature, and not sinners of the Gentiles, knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law, but by the faith of Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ ; that we may he justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law ; for by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified."* " We who are Jews by nature," the descendants of Abraham, and God's peculiar people; have the tables of the law, and the ordinances of his worship; we, who in point of privileges are greatly superior to the Gentile nations, and have all possible advantages for establishing (if such a thing were practicable) a righ- teousness of our own; what have we done? " We have believed on Jesus Christ ;" we have renounced ourselves ; disclaimed whatever is our own, and de- pended wholly on the righteousness of Christ. For what end ? That by this faith in Christ, which re- * Gal. ii. 15, 16. Observable, very observable is the zeal of our apostle, in this determined stand against the most specious, and therefore the most dangerous, encroachments of error. To express his ardent concern for the truth and purity of the gospel, the works of the law are mentioned no less than three times, and as often ex- cluded from the affair of justification. The faith of Christ likewise is thrice inculcated, and as often asserted to be the only method of be- coming righteous before God. 16 LETTER V. 153 ^^v^--^-,^^*^.^--.^.^^^,^, demonstrated from the New Testament. ceives his righteousness; pleads his righteousness; and presents nothing but his righteousness before the throne, " we might be justified." What motive has induced us to this practice? A firm persuasion, that by " the works of the law," by sincere obedience, or personal holiness, " no man living has been, and no man living can be, justified before God." Are you tired, Theron? have I fatigued your atten- tion, instead of convincing your judgment? I \vill not harbour such a suspicion. It is pleasing to converse with those, who have travelled into foreign countries, and seen the wonders of creation. We hearken to their narratives with delight. Every new adventure whets our curiosity, rather than palls our appetite. Must it not then afford a more sublime satisfaction to be entertained with the discourses of a person, who had, not indeed sailed round the world, but made a journey to the third heavens? who had been admitted into the paradise of God, and heard things of infinite importance, and unutterable dignity ? This was the privilege of that incomparable man, whose observa- tions and discoveries I have been presenting to my friend. And I promise myself, he will not complain of weariness, if I enrich my epistle with one or two more of those glorious truths. " God hath made him to be sin for us who knew no sin, that we might," not be put into a capacity of acquiring a righteousness of our own ; but " be made the righteousness of God in him."* In this text, the double imputation of our sin to Christ, and of Christ's righteousness to us, is most emphatically taught, and most charmingly contrasted. Most emphatically taught. For we are said, not barely to be righteous, but to be made righteousness itself; and not righteousness only, but (which is the utmost that language can reach) the righteousness of God. Most charmingly contrasted. For one cannot but ask, in what manner Christ was made sin? In the very same manner we are made righteousness. * 2 Cor. v. 21. VOL, II. 42 V 154 ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, ~^"^V^S^^*^-S^ .^^.^^N^S^'^S^^N^-^^*^^' Christ knew no actual sin; yet, upon his mediatorial interposition in our behalf, he was treated by divine justice, as a sinful person. We likewise are destitute of all legal righteousness ; yet upon our receiving Christ, and believing in his name, we are regarded by the divine Majesty as righteous creatures This therefore cannot, in either case, be intrinsically ; but must be, in both instances, imputatively. Gracious, divinely gracious exchange!* pregnant with amazing goodness, and rich with inestimable benefits. The incessant triumph of the strong, the sovereign conso- lation of the weak believer ? Cease your exultations, cries one, and come down from your altitudes. The term used in this verse de- notes, not so properly sin, as an offering for sin. This is a mere proposal, which I may as reasonably deny, as another affirm. Since the word occurs much more frequently in the former signification, than in the latter; and since, by giving it the latter sig- nification in the passage before us, we very much impair, if not totally destroy, the apostle's beautiful antithesis. However, not to contend, but to allow the remark ; I borrow my reply from a brave old champion for the truths of the gospel :| " This text," says he, " invin- cibly proveth, that we are not justified in God's sight * Ita scilicet tnirabili pertnutatione mala nostra in se recepit, ut bona sua nobis largiretur: recepit miseriam, largiretur raisericordiam; recepit maledictionem, ut benedictionis suae compotes nos faceret ; recepit mortem ut vitam conferret; recepit peccatum, ut justitiam impertiretur. Thus writes the judicious Turrettine. To which, in concurrence with the accurate Witsius, I subscribe both with hand and heart. t See Dr. Fulk's annotation on the place, in that valuable piece of ancient controversy and criticism, the Examination of the Kliemish Testament. Which, though not altogether so elegant and refined in the language, nor so delicate and genteel in the manner, as might be wished, is nevertheless full of sound divinity, weighty arguments, and important observations. Would the young student be taught to discover the very sinews of popery, and be able to give an effectual blow to that complication of errors, I scarce know a treatise better calculated for the purpose. LETTER V. 155 demonstrated from the New Testament. f~^-*r^f^*"^-^-^-^^-^-^-*f*rjr~f*r-^-^-^ by righteousness inherent in us, but by the righteous- ness of Christ imputed to us through faith." After which he adds, what I make my answer to the objec- tion ; " That Christ was made sin for us, because he was a sacrifice for sin, we confess ; but therefore was he a sacrifice for sin, because our sin was imputed to him, and punished in him." The poor delinquents under the Mosaic dispensation, who brought their sin-offering to the altar of the Lord, were directed to lay their hand on the devoted beast; signifying, by this usage, the transferring of guilt from the offerer to the sacrifice. Conformably to the import of this cere- mony, Christ assumed our demerit; like a true piacu- lar victim, suffered the punishment, which we had deserved; and which, without such a commutation, we must have undergone. So that our Lord's being made a sin-offering for us, does by no means invalidate, but very much confirm our doctrine. It necessarily im- plies the translation of our iniquity to his person ; and, on the principles of analogy, must infer the imputation of his righteousness to our souls. One passage more permit me to transcribe into my paper ; and, at the same time, to wish that it may be written on both our hearts; written, not with ink and pen, no, nor with the point of a diamond, but with the finger of the living God. " Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord ; for whom I have suffered the loss of all things ; and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ, and be found in him ; not having mine own righteousness which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God through faith.* Be pleased to observe, that in this confession of faith, and with reference to the case of justification, the apostle renounces all those acts of supposed righ- * Phil. iii. 8, 9. 156 ASPAS10 TO THERON. Christ's righteousness, and its imputation, teousness, which were antecedent to his conversion. Nor does he repudiate them only, but all those more excellent services, by which he was so eminently distinguished, even after his attachment to Christ, and engagement in the Christian ministry. As though he should say, " The privilege of being a Hebrew by birth ; the prerogative of being a pbarisee by profes- sion ; together with a behaviour exemplary, and a reputation unblameable ; all these, which was once rec- koned my highest gain, as soon as J became acquainted with the glorious perfections of Christ, I counted loss for him.* And now, though I have been a disciple many years; have walked in all holy conversation and godliness; have endured, for my divine Master's name, tribulations above measure ; have laboured more abundantly, and more successfully than all the apos- tles; yet even these and all other attainments, or what kind or of what date soever, I count but loss,f for the transcendent excellency of Christ Jesus our Lord. Yea, doubtless,^ it is my deliberate and stedfast re- solution ; what 1 have most seriously adopted, and do publicly avow, that specious as all these acquirements may seem, and valuable as they may be in other re- spects, 1 reckon them but dung, that I may win Christ. They fade into nothing, they dwindle into * H/V, I have counted. t H//*ai, relates to the present time, and comprehends present attainments. I do count not some, or the greatest part, but all things. What? Is a course of sobriety, and the exercise of morality, to be reckoned as dung] All things, says the apostle. What ? Is our most elevated devotion, and enlarged obedience, to be degraded at this monstrous rate? All things, says the apostle. This is his invariable reply. And we may venture to affirm, that he had the mind of Christ. I Perhaps ax* ^.tvovvfs may be translated, but truly. As if he had said, " But why should I mention any more particulars? In truth, I count all things, &c." Aia Xpic-rn)' ^t TO wtft^ty no, Xpcrro xifhau plainly imply this comparative or relative sense. Virtues, which are the fruits of the Spirit, and labours, which are a blessing to mankind, must not be reckoned absolutely or in all respects despicable ; but only in a LETTER V. 157 demonstrated from tlie IVew Testament. less than nothing, if set in competition with his matchless obedience 5 and were they to supersede my application to his merits, or weaken my reli- ance on his mediation, they would not be contemp- tible only, but injurious. Irreparably injurious, loss itself." You will ask, if he reject all his own righteous- ness, on what are his hopes fixed? On a foundation extensive as the obedience of the Redeemer's life and death, unshaken as the dignity of his eternal power and Godhead. They are fixed on " the righteousness which is of God ;" the righteousness which God the Father, in unsearchable wisdom, provided ; and which God the Son, in unutterable goodness, wrought. Do you inquire, how he came to be invested with this righteousness? The answer is ready and satis, factory. It was by the application of the divine Spirit, and the instrumentality of faith. Lest any should imagine, that this faith might be substituted instead of his own obedience to the law, he puts an apparent difference between the righteousness which justifies, and the faith by which it is received ; not the righteousness which consists in, but is through the faith of Christ. To shew the great importance of this distinction, how earnestly he insisted upon it as a preacher, how much it tended to his consolation as a Christian, he repeats the sentiment, he reinculcates the doctrine, " the righteousness which is of God by faith." Will you now, Theron, or shall I, poor unprofit- able creatures, presume to rely on any performances or any accomplishments of our own ? When that dis- liraited and qualified acceptation ; despicable, not in themselves, but as compared with the divinely perfect righteousness of Christ, or as referred to the infinitely important articles of justification. That Aspasio, in this whole paragraph, speaks the sense of our church, will appear from the following extract: "For the apostle St. Paul saith, He doth glory, in what ? in the contempt of his own righteousness ; and that he looketh for the righteousness of God by faith." Homily n Salvation, part II. 158 ASPASIO TO THERON. The reasons which determined Aspasio tinguished saint, a perfect prodigy of gifts, of graces, and of zeal, indefatigable in labours, unconquerable by afflictions, and of whose usefulness there is neither measure nor end ; when he denies himself in every view ; depreciates all; disavows all; and makes men- tion of nothing, but the incomparable righteousness of his "obedient, dying, interceding Saviour?" What shall I say more ; shall I attempt to play rhe- torician, and borrow the insinuating arts of persuasion? This, after all the cogent testimonies produced, and all the great authorities urged, would be a needless parade. When our pen is a sun-beam, there is but little occasion to dip it in oil. Instead of such an attempt, give me leave to make a frank and honest confession. I would conceal no- thing from my friend. He should have a sash to my breast; throw it up at his pleasure, and see all that passes within. Though I never had any temptation to that pernicious set of errors, which passes under the character of Socinianism ; yet 1 had many search- ings of heart, and much solicitous inquiry, how far we are indebted to Christ's active righteousness. Tho- roughly persuaded, that " other foundation can no man lay, save that which is laid, even Jesus Christ ;"* and that " there is no other name given under heaven, whereby men can be saved ;"f yet, whether we are not to confine our believing regards to a dying Saviour, was matter of considerable doubt. At first, I was inclined to acquiesce in the affirmative. After long consideration and many prayers, my faith fixed upon the whole of Christ's mediatorial undertaking ; which began in his spontaneous submission to the law ; was carried on through all his meritorious life; and issued in his atoning death. This is now the basis of my confidence, and the bulwark of my happiness. Hi- ther I fly ; here 1 rest ; as the dove, after her weari- some and fruitless roviugs, returned to Noah, and rested in the ark. * 1 Cor. ii. t Acts iv. 12. LETTER V. 159 to embrace the doctrine of Christ's imputed righteousness. This scheme first recommended itself to my affec- tions ; as making the most ample provision for the se- curity and repose of a guilty conscience; which, when alarmed by the accusations of sin, is very apprehen- sive of its condition ; and will not be comforted, till every scruple is satisfied, and all the obstructions to its peace are removed. Thus 1 reasoned with myself: "Though there is, undoubtedly, something to be said for the other side of the question, yet this is evidently the safest method. And, in an affair of infinite con- sequence, who would not prefer the safest expedient? Should the righteousness of Jesus Christ be indis- pensably requisite, as a wedding-garment ; what will they do, when the great immortal King appears, who have refused to accept it? Whereas, should it not prove so absolutely necessary, yet such a dependence can never obstruct our salvation. It can never be charged upon us as an article of contumacy or per- verseness, that we thought too meanly of our own, too magnificently of our Lord's obedience. So that let the die turn either way, we are exposed to no hazard. This scheme takes in all that the other systems com- prehend, and abundantly more. In this I find no de- fect, no flaw, no shadow of insufficiency. It is some- what like the perfect cube; which, wherever it may be thrown, or however it may fall, is sure to settle upon its base. Supposing, therefore, the important beam should hang in equilibrio, with respect to argu- ment ; these circumstances, cast into the scale, may very justly be allowed to turn the balance." Upon a more attentive examination of the subject, I perceived, that this is the doctrine of our national church ; is enforced by the attestation of our ablest divines; and has been, in all ages, the consolation of the most eminent saints : that it is the genuine sense of scripture, and not some inferior or subordinate point, incidentally touched upon by the inspired writers, but the sum and substance of their heavenly message;* * This doctrine runs through St. Paul's writings, like a golden warp. While privileges, blessings, and evangelical duties are like a 160 ASPASIO TO THERON. Christ's righteousness is the sum and substance of the scriptures. that which constitutes the vitals of their system, arid is the very soul of their religion. On which account the whole gospel is denominated from it, and styled " the ministration of righteousness." I was farther convinced, that this way of salvation magnifies, be- yond compare, the divine law ; is no less honourable to all the divine attributes; and exhibits the ever- blessed Mediator in the most illustrious and the most delightful view ; All these considerations, under the influence of the eternal Spirit, have determined my judgment, and established my faith. So that I trust, neither the subtilties of wit, nor the sneers of ridicule, nor any other artifice, shall ever be able to separate me from the grace and righteousness which are in Jesus Christ. Let me now, by way of conclusion, review that aw- ful subject which introduced the letter. Let me sup- pose the Judge, who is at the door, actually come ; the great and terrible day, which is hasting forward,* really commenced. Hark the trumpet sounds the woof (if I may allude to the ornaments of the sanctuary) of blue, of purple, of scarlet, and indeed of every pleasant colour. " The righ- teousness of God," Rom. i. 17. " The righteousness from God," Phil. iii. 10." Righteousness by faith," Rom. iii. 22." Righteous- ness of faith," Rom. iv. 11. " Righteousness without the law," Rom. iii. 21. " Righteousness without works," Rom. iv. 6. " Righteous- ness in the blood of Christ," Rom. v. 9. " Righteousness by the obedience of Christ," Rom. v. 19. " Righteousness not our own," Phil. iii. 9. " Righteousness imputed by God," Rom. iv. 6, 10, 22. * The sacred writers, I observe, often remind their readers of this grand event; often display this delightful dreadful scene. Their manner of speaking shews, that they themselves lived under the habi- tual and joyful expectation of it ; as persons, who were " looking for, and hasting to, the coming of the day of God." They represent it, not only as sure, but near ; yea, very near, and upon the point to take place. " The Lord is at hand. The Judge is at the door. Yet a little while, and he that shall come, will come, and will not tarry." The last passage is the most spirited and emphatical of them all ; but has lost much of its emphasis, by the English version. It is in the original pix{o oa-ov otroy. A beautiful pleonasm ; by which the Septuagint, though too often inaccurate in translating the pro- phetic text, have very happily expressed Isaiah's i>.T) IDJ7QD which may I think, be rendered in our laoguage, " yet a very, very little while." Heb. x. 37. Isa. xxvi. 2V. 2 LETTER V. 161 The only sure ground of confidence at (he day of judgment. universal summons. The living are struck with a death-like astonishment; the dead start from their silent abode. See ! the whole earth takes fire ; the sun is turned into darkness; and the stars fall from their spheres. Behold! the Lord Jesus comes with myriads of his angels. The judgment is set, and the books are opened. Observe those exemplary Christians, whose senti- ments I have been collecting. They renounce them- selves, and rely on their glorious Surety. Methinks I hear them say, each as they quit their beds of dust: " 1 will go forth from the grave in thy strength, O blessed Jesus; and, at the decisive tribunal, will make mention of thy righteousness only." At the same time, you will, Theron, or shall 1, stand forth and declare, before the innumerable multitudes of anxious sinners and adoring seraphs, " Let those pusillanimous crea- tures fly for refuge to their Saviour's righteousness. We will confide in works, in accomplishments of our own. We are the men, who have personally kept the divine law, and want no suppositions obedience from another. Let the eye that glances through immensity, and penetrates the recesses of the heart ; let that holy and omniscient eye, examine our temper, and sift our conduct. We are bold to risk our souls, and all their immortal interest, on the issue of such a scrutiny." Perhaps, your mind is impressed with the solemn, scene, and your thoughts recoil at such daring pre- sumption. If so, it will be proper for me to withdraw, and leave you to your own meditations. At such mo- ments to obtrude on your company, would render me the troublesome and officious, rather than The respectful and affectionate, A*PASIO. VOL. II. 42. 162 THERON TO ASPASIO. ^ ^-^- ^^^^r-^--^-^^**-*- ^--* Theron's pleasing retrospect LETTER VI. THERON TO ASPASIO. Dear Aspasio, 1 HE last evening was one of the finest I ever saw. According to custom, I made an excursion into the open fields; and wanted nothing to complete the satis- faction, but my friend's company.* I could not but observe, how much your improving conversation heightened the charms of nature. When religion ap- plied philosophy, every thing was instructive, as well as pleasing. Not a breeze swept over the plains, to clear the sky, and cool the air, but it tended also to disperse our doubts, and enliven our faith in the su- preme all-sufficient Good. Not a cloud tinged the firmament with radiant colours, or amused the sight with romantic shapes, but we beheld a picture of the present world, of its fading acquisitions and fantastic joys, in the mimic forms and the transitory scene. Even the weakest of the insect tribe, that skim the air in sportive silence, addressed us with the strongest in- citements, and gave us the loudest calls, to be active in our day, and useful in our generation. They cried, at least when you lent them your tongue, Such is vain life, an idle flight of days, A still delusive round of sickly joys, A scene of little cares, and trifling passions, If not ennobled by the deeds of virtue. How often, at the approach of sober eve, have we stole along the cloisters of a sequestered bower ; at- tentive to the tale of some querulous current, that seemed to be struck with horror at the awful gloom ; and complained with heavier murmur, as it passed under the blackening shades, and along the root ob- * Tu quod abes excepto, eaetera laetu. by Jfultall LETTER VI. of their past excursions. structed channel! Or else, far from the babbling brook, and softly treading the grassy path, we listened to the nightingale's song; while every gale held its breath, and all the leaves forbore their motion, that they might neither drown nor interrupt the melodious woe. From both which pensive strains, you endea- voured to temper and chastise the exuberant gaiety of my spirits. You convinced me, that true joy is a serious thing;* is the child of sedate thought, not the spawn of intemperate mirth ; nursed, not by the sallies of dissolute merriment, but by the exercise of serene contemplation. Sometimes, at the gladsome return of morn, we have ascended an airy eminence; and hailed the new- born day ; and followed, with our delighted eye, the mazes of some glittering stream. Here rushing, with impetuous fury, from the mountain's side; foaming over the rifted rocks, and roaring down the craggy steep; impatient, as it were, to get free from such rugged paths, and mingle with the beauties of the lower vale. There slackening its headlong career, and smoothing its eddies into an even flow. While, deep embosomed in the verdant mead, it glides through the cherished and smiling herbage. Sometimes lost amidst closing willows ; sometimes emerging with fresh beauty from the leafy covert; always roving with an air of amorous complacency ; as though it would caress the fringed banks, and flowery glebe. Reminded, by this watery monitor, of that constancy and vigour, with which the affections should move to- wards the great centre of happiness, Christ Jesus ; of that determined ardour, with which we should breakthrough the entanglements of temptation, and obstacles of the world, in order to reach our ever- lasting rest ; and of the mighty difference between the turbulent, the frothy, the precipitate gratifications of vice, and the calm, the substantial, the permanent delights of religion. * Res severa est veruna gaudiura. 164 THERON TO ASPASIO. Theron's pleasing retrospect Or else, with eager view, we have surveyed the ex- tensive prospect, and wandered over all the magnifi- cence of things ; an endless variety of graceful objects, and the delightful scenes; each soliciting our chief regard ; every one worthy of our whole attention ; all conspiring to touch the heart with a mingled transport of wonder, of gratitude, and of joy. So that we have returned from our rural expedition/ not as the spend- thrift from the gaming-table, cursing his stars, and raving at his ill luck ; gulled of his money, and the de- cided dupe of sharpers. Not as the libertine from the house of wantonness,* surfeited with rank debauch, dogged by shame, goaded by remorse, with a thou- sand recent poisons tingling in his veins. But we re- turned as ships of commerce from the golden conti- nent, or the spicy islands, with new accessions of sub- lime improvement, and solid pleasure: with a deeper veneration for the almighty Creator; with a warmer sense of his unspeakable favours; and with a more in- flamed desire, " to know him now by faith, and after this life to have the fruition of his glorious Godhead." Sometimes, with an agreeable relaxation, we have transferred our cares, from the welfare of the nation, * Solomon, in order to deter unwary youth from those sinks of un- cleanness, represent* the harlot under the character of a pestilent hag, or baleful sorceress. " Her feet go down to death," Prov. v. 5. " Her house is the high road to hell," Prov. vii. 2? ; yea, " her guests are in the depths of hell," Prov. ix. 18. The second clause seems to be emphatical. The original expression is in the plural number 'DT7. I choose therefore to render it not simply the road, but more largely the high road ; from which many other ways of guilt branch out, in which many other paths of ruin coincide. There Murder is often known to drench her dagger in blood ; Robbery forms the rash resolve, which ends in the ignominious halter. There Intemperance daily brews the bowl, which enervates the constitution, and transforms the man into a beast. While Disease, pale cadaverous noisome disease, anticipates the putrefaction of the grave, and causes the wretched martyrs of vice to rot even above ground. Well may every one, who loves life, and would fain see good days, cry out with a mixture of detestation and dread, " O my soul, come not thoti into their horrid haunts!" Dii meliora piis, errorenjque hostibus illuni ! Virg. LETTER VI. 165 of their past excursions. to the flourishing of tiie farm ; and, instead of enact- ing regulations for the civil community, \ve have planned schemes for the cultivation of our ground, and the prosperity of our cattle. Instead of attending the course of fleets, and the destination of armies, we have directed the plough, where to rend the grassy turf; or taught the honeysuckle to wind round the arbour, and tiie jessamine to climb upon the wall. Instead of interposing our friendly offices, to reconcile contending kingdoms ; we have formed a treaty of coalition, between the stranger cyon, and the adopting tree ; and, by the remarkable meliora- tion of the ensuing fruit, demonstrated (would con- tending empires regard the precedent) what advan- tages flow from pacific measures, and an amicable union. Instead of unravelling the labyrinths of state, and tracing the finesses of foreign courts; we have made ourselves acquainted with the politics of nature, and observed, how wonderfully, how mysteriously, that great projectress acts. In this place she rears a vast trunk, and unfolds a multiplicity of branches, from one small berry. She qualifies, by her amazing operations, a few contemptible acorns, that were for- merly carried in a child's lap, to bear the British thun- der round the globe, and secure' to our island the so- vereignty of the ocean. In another place, she pro- duces, from a dry grain, " first the green blade; then the turgid ear; afterwards the full grown and ripened corn in the ear;"* repaying, with exact punctuality, and with lavish usury, the husbandman's toil, and the husbandman's loan ; causing, by a most surprising resurrection, the death of one seed, to be fruitful in the bir.th of hundreds. But I forget your caution, Aspasio; forget how kindly you have checked me, when I have been haran- guing upon, I know not what, powers and works of nature. Whereas it is God who " worketh hitherto;"! who to this day exerts, and to the end of time will * Mark iv. 28. t John x. 17. 166 THERON TO ASPASIO. ^-*^*^*v*^*x*^^.x A cursory \-\cv> of -^^^^N^-^-^SX^XV^W exert, that secret but unreraitted energy, which is the life of this majestic system, and the cause of all its stupendous operations. Let this shew you, how much I want my guide, my philosopher, and friend. With- out his prompting aid, my genius is dull ; my reflec- tions are awkward ; and my religious improvements jejune ; somewhat like the bungling imitations of the tool, compared with the masterly effects of vegetation. However, I will proceed ; yet not from any view of informing my Aspasio, but only to draw a bill upon his pen ; and lay him under an obligation to enrich me with another letter, upon the grand and excellent sub- ject of his last. i Art is dim-sighted in her plans, and defective even in her most elaborate essays. But Nature, or rather nature's sublime Author, is indeed a designer, and " a workman that need not be ashamed."* His eye strikes out ten thousand elegant models, and his touch executes all with inimitable perfection. What an admirable specimen is here, of the divine skill, and of the divine goodness ! This terraqueous globe is intended, not only for a place of habitation, but for a store-house of convenience. If we examine the several apartments of our great abode; if we take a general inventory of our common goods ; we shall find the utmost reason to be charmed with the displays, both of nice economy, and of boundless profusion. Observe the surface of this universal messuage. The ground, coarse as it may seem, and trodden by every foot, is nevertheless the laboratory, where the most exquisite operations are performed ; the shop, if I may so speak, where th*e finest manufactures are wrought. Though a multitude of generations have always been accommodated, and though a multitude of nations are daily supplied by its liberalities, it still continues inexhausted; is a resource that never fails; a magazine never to be drained. * 2 Tim. ii. 15. LETTER VI. 167 the perfections of Nature. The unevenness of the ground, far from being a ble- mish or a defect, heightens its beauty, and augments its usefulness. Here it is scooped into deep and shel- tered vales, almost constantly covered with a sponta- neous growth of verdure ; which, all tender and suc- culent, composes an easy couch, and yields the most agreeable fodder for the various tribes of cattle. There it is extended into a wide, open, champaign country; which, annually replenished with the hus- bandman's seed, shoots into a copious harvest: a har- vest, not only of that principal wheat, which is the staff of our life, and strengthens our heart; bnt of the "t appointed barley,"* and various other sorts of grain, which yields an excellent food for our animals ; and either enable them to dispatch our drudgery, or else fatten their flesh for our tables. The furrows, obedient to the will of man, vary their produce.! They bring forth a crop of tall, flexible, slender plants :J whose thin filmy coat, dried, atte- nuated, and skilfully manufactured, transforms itself into some of the most necessary accommodations of life, and genteelest embellishments of society. It is wove into ample volumes of cloth; which, fixed to the mast, gives wings to our ships, and wafts them to the extremities of the ocean. It is twisted into vast lengths of cordage; which add nerves to the cranes, and lend sinews to the pulley ; or else, adhering to the anchor, they fasten the vessel even on the fluctu- ating element, and secure its station even amidst driving tempests. It furnishes the duchess with her costly head dress, and delicately fine ruffles. No less strong than neat, it supplies the ploughman with his coarse frock, and the sailor with his clumsy trow- sers. Its fibres, artfully ranged by the operations of * Isa. xxviii. 25. t One may venture to say of the earth, with regard to its vegeta- ble operations, Oqmia transformat sese in miracula rerum. I Flax and hemp. 168 THERON TO ASPASIO. *s^s^-^-*v^s^^v^, A cursory view of the loom, cover our tables with a graceful elegance, and surround our bodies with a cherishing warmth. On this the painter spreads the colours, which enchant the eye ; in this the merchant packs the wares, which enrich the world. Yonder the hills, like a grand amphitheatre, arise. Amphitheatre! All the pompous works of Roman magnificence, are less than mole banks, are mere cockle shells, compared with those majestic elevations of the earth. Some clad with mantling vines; some crowned with towering cedars; some ragged with mishapen rocks, or yawning with subterraneous dens ; whose rough and inaccessible crags, whose hideous and gloomy cavities, are not only a continual refuge for the wild goats ; but have often proved an asylum to persecuted merit,* and a safeguard to the most va- luable lives. At a great distance, the mountains lift their frozen brows, and penetrate the clouds with their aspiring peaks. Their frozen brows arrest the roving, and condense the rarefied vapours, f Their caverned bowels collect the dripping treasures, and send them abroad in gradual communications, by trickling springs. \Vhile their steep sides precipitate the watery stores ; rolling them on with such a forcible impulse,^ that * To David, from Saul's malice; to Elijah, from Jezebel's ven- geance; to many of the primitive Christians, from the rage of perse- cuting emperors. " They wandered in deserts and in mountains, in dens and caves of the earth." Heb. xi. 38. t Therefore styled Nimbosa cacuniina monies. P'irg. I It is observed, that the largest rivers in the world, those which roll the heaviest burden of waters, and perform the most extensive circuit through the nations, generally take their rise from moun- tains. The Rhine, the Rhone, and the Po, all descend from the Alps. The Tygris derives its rapid flood from the everlasting snows and deep ridges of Niphates. And, to mention no more instances, the river Amazones, which pours itself through a multitude of pro- vinces, and waters near eighteen hundred leagues of land, has its urn in the caverns, and its impetus from the precipices, of that immense range of hills, the Andes. If the reader is inclined to see the origin and formation of the rivers described, in all the sublimity of diction, and with all the 15 LETTER VI. 109 N^S^-,^^-*^*V*v* -^- .^s the perfections of Nature. **^^*-^S^-S^N^-v^N^%^w*"S^^N they never intermit their unwearied course, till they have swept through the most extensive climes, and regained their native seas. The vineyard swells into a profusion of clusters, some tinged with the deepest purple, and delicately clouded with azure: some clad with a whitish trans- parent skin, which shews the tempting kernels, lodged in the luscious nectar. The vine requires a strong reflection of the sun-beams, and a very large propor- tion of warmth. How commodiously do the hills and mountains minister to this purpose. May we not call those vast declivities, the garden-walls of nature? which, far more effectually than the most costly glasses, or most artful green-houses, concenter the solar heat, and complete the maturity of the grape: distending it with a liquor of the finest scent, the most agreeable relish, and the most exalted qualities; such as dissipate sadness, and inspire vivacity; such as make glad the heart of man, and most sweetly prompt, both his gratitude, and his duty, to the munificent Giver. I grieve, and I blush for my fellow-creatures, that any should abuse this indulgence of heaven ; that any should turn so valuable a gift of God into an in- strument of sin ; turn the most exhilarating of cordials into poison, madness, and death. The kitchen-garden presents us with a new train of benefits: In its blooming ornaments, what unaffected beauty! in its culinary productions, \vhat diversified riches ! It ripens a multitude of nutrimental esculents, and almost an equal abundance of medicinal herbs ; dis- tributing refreshments to the healthy, and administer- ing remedies to the, sick. -The orchard, all fair and ruddy, and bowing down beneath its own delicious burden, gives us a fresh demonstration of our Creator's graces of poetry, he may find this entertainment in Mr. Thomson's Autumn, line 781, last edit. Amazing scene ! behold, the glooms disclose. I see the rivers in their infant beds ! Deep, deep I hear them, lab'ring to get free ! &c. VOI4, II.42, Y 170 THERON TO ASPASIO. r-^-^-^r-^^f^-.f^f^ A cursory view of kindness; regales us, first, with all the delicacies of summer fruits ; next, with the more lasting succession of autumnal dainties. What is nature, but a series of wonders, and a fund of delights? That such a variety of fruits, so beau- tifully coloured, so elegantly shaped, and so charm- ingly flavoured, should arise from the earth? than which nothing is more insipid, sordid, and despicable. I am struck with pleasing astonishment at the cause of these fine effects; and no less surprised at the man- ner of bringing them into existence. I take a walk in my garden, or a turn through my orchard, in the month of December. There stands several logs of wood, fastened to the ground. They are erect in- deed, and shapely, but without either sense or mo- tion. No human hand will touch them, no human aid will succour them ; yet in a little time, they are beautified with blossoms, they are covered with leaves, and at last are loaded with mellow treasures; with the downy peach and the polished plum ; with the musky apricot and juicy pear ; with the cherry, and its coral pendants, glowing through lattices of green, and dark, Beneath her ample leaf, the luscious fig. I have wondered at the structure of my watch ; wondered more at the description of the silk mills ; most of all, at the account of those prodigious engines invented by Archimedes. But what are all the inven- tions of all the geometricians and mechanics in the world, compared with those inconceivably rich auto- mata of nature!* These self-operating machines dis- * Automata, or self-operating machines: not meant to set aside the superintendency of Providence, but only to exclude the co-opera- tion of man. The word avIo/AoIn is used by our Master; is a very fine and most expressive word ; for which reason, I have endeavoured to give it a kind of English naturalization. It signifies, says a Greek scholiast, T? /^r^ana?, a xetr atla? sffys<7-ai. See Mark iv. 28. It is an expli- cation and an abridgment of that remarkable phrase, which occurs in the Mosaic history of the creation, nflWr? dD'nbtt N"D *)U?N Gen. U. 3. LETTER VI. 171 -^**-^*r*~r-*r-^-*f~r^; the perfections of Nature. patch their business, with a punctuality that never mistakes, with a dexterity that cannot be equalled. In spring, they clothe themselves with such unstudied but exquisite finery, as far exceeds the embroidery of the needle, or the labours of the loom. In autumn, they present us with such a collation of sweetmeats, and such blandishments of taste, as surpass all that the most critical luxury could prepare, or the most lavish fancy imagine. So that those coarse and sense- less logs first decorate the divine creation, then per- form the honours of the table. If, amidst these ordinary productions of the earth, God appears so " great in counsel, and mighty in works ;'"* what may we expect to see in the palaces of heaven; in the hierarchies of angels; and in the won- derful Redeemer, who is beyond all other objects, be- yond all other manifestations, the wisdom " of God, and the power of God !"f The forest rears myriads of massy bodies, which, though neither gay with blossoms, nor rich with fruit, supply us with timber of various kinds, and every desirable quality. J But who shall cultivate such huge trees, diffused over so vast a space? The toil were endless. See therefore the all-wise and ever- gracious ordination of Providence.^ They are so constituted, that they have no need of the spade and " Which God created and made," appears tautological, and is by no means an exact translation. It should ratherlje interpreted, " which God created in order to make :" to make, by these prolific instru- ments and reproducing principles, a continual succession of animals, vegetables, and creatures. * Jer xxxii. 19. t 1 Cor. i. 24. I Tully has given us an abridgment of all the preceding particu- lars: which, I think, is one of the finest landscapes in miniature, that the descriptive pen ever drew. " Terra universa cernatur, vestita floribus, herbis, arboribus, frugibus; quorum omnium incredibilis multitude insatiabili varietate distinguitur. Adde hue fontiura gelidas perennitates liquores perlucidos omnium, riparum vestitus viridissimos speluncarum concavas altitudines, saxorum asperitates, impenden- tium montium altitudines, immensitatesque camporum. De Nat. Deor. lib. II. 172 THERON TO ASPASIO. r^-^vxv^-vxv^-v^ -^s^-.j A cursory v\ew of r^*****^^r******~**~~*~-** the pruning-knife. Nay, the little cares of man would diminish, rather than augment their dignity and their usefulness. The more they are neglected, the better they thrive; the more wildly grand and magnificent they grow. When felled by the axe, they are sawed into beams, and sustain the roofs of our houses : they are fashioned into carriages, and serve for the conveyance of the heaviest loads. Their substance so pliant, that they yield to the chisel of the turner, and are smoothed by the plane of the joiner; are wrought into the nicest diminutions of shape, and compose some of the finest branches of household furniture. Their texture so solid, that they form the most important parts of those mighty engines ; which, adapting themselves to the play of mechanic powers, dispatch more work in a single hour, than could otherwise be accomplished in many days. At the same time, their pressure is so light, that they float upon the waters; and glide along the surface, almost with as much agility, as the finny fry glance through the deep. Thus, while they im- part magnificence to architecture, and bestow num- berless conveniences on the family ; they constitute the very basis of navigation, and give expedition, give being to commerce. Amidst the inaccessible depths of the forest, an ha- bitation' is assigned for those ravenous beasts, whose appearance would be frightful, and their neighbour- hood dangerous to mankind. Here the sternly majes- tic lion rouses himself from his den ; stalks through the midnight shades; and awes the savage herds with his roar. Here the fiery tiger springs upon his prey, and the gloomy bear trains up her whelps. Here the swift leopard ranges, and the grim wolf prowls, and both in quest of murder and blood. Were these hor- rid animals to dwell in our fields, what havock would they make ! what consternation would they spread ! But they voluntarily bury themselves in the deepest recesses of the desert ; while the ox, the horse, and LETTER VI. 173 the perfections of Nature. the serviceable quadrupeds, live under our inspec- tion, and keep within our call ; profiting us as much by their presence, as the others oblige us by their ab- sence. If, at any time, those shaggy monsters make an excursion into the habitable world, it is when man .retires to his chamber, and sleeps in security. The sun, which invites other creatures abroad, gives them the signal to retreat. " The sun riseth, and they get them away, and lay them down in their dens."* Strange ! that the orient light, which is so pleasing to us, should strike N such terror o"n them! should, more effectually than a legion of guards, put them all to flight, and clear the country of lhoe formidable enemies. If we turn our thoughts to the atmosphere, we find a most curious and exquisite appearance of air: which, because no object of our siujit, is seldom ob- served, and little regarded : yet is a source of innu- merable advantages. And all these advantages (which is almost incredible) are fetched from the very jaws of ruin. My meaning may be obscure, therefore I ex- plain myself. We live plunged, if I may so speak, in an ocean of air. Whose pressure, upon a erson of moderate size, is equal to the weight of twenty thousand pounds. Tremendous consideration! Should the ceiling of a room, or the roof of a house, fall upon us with half that force, wiiai destructive effects must ensue! Such a force wo-dd infallibly drive the breath from our lungs, or break every bone in our bodies. Yet so- admirably has the divine wisdom contrived this aerial fluid, and so nicely counterpoised its dreadful power, that we receive not the slightest hurt; we suffer no manner of inconvenience; we even enjoy the load. Instead of being as a mountain on our loins, it is like wings to our feet, or like sinews to our limbs. Is not this common ordination of Pro- * Psa. civ. 22. THERON TO ASPASIO. A cursory view of vidence, thus considered, somewhat like the miracle of the burning bush; whose tender and combustible substance, though in the midst of flames, was neither consumed nor injured?* Ts it not almost as marvel- lous, as the prodigy of the three Hebrew youths, who walked in the fiery furnace, without having a hair of their head singed, or so much as the smell of fire passing on their garments ?f Surely we have reason to say unto God, " O how terrible," yet how beneficent, "art thou in thy works!" The air, though too weak to support our flight, is a thoroughfare for innumerable wings. Here the whole commonwealth of birds take up their abode. Here they lodge and expatiate, beyond the reach of their adversaries. Were they to run upon the earth, they would be exposed to ten thousand dangers, with- out proper strength to resist them, or sufficient speed to escape them. Whereas, by mounting the skies, and " lifting themselves up on high, they are secure from peril, they scorn the horse and his rider. "J Some of them perching upon the boughs, others soar- ing amidst the firmament, entertain us with their notes; which are musical and agreeable, when heard at this convenient distance; but would be noisy and impor- tunate, if brought nearer to our ears. Here many of those feathered families reside, which yield us a deli- cious treat; yet give us no trouble, put us to no ex- pence, and, till the moment we want them, are wholly out of our way. The air, commissioned by its all-bountiful Author, charges itself with the administration of several offices, which are perfectly obliging, and no less serviceable to mankind. Co-operating with our lungs, it ventilates the blood, and refines our fluids. It qualifies and at- tempers the vital warmth, promotes and exalts the animal secretions. Many days we might live, or even whole months, without the light of the sun or the glimmering of a star. Whereas, if we are deprived, * Exod. iii. 2. t Dan. iii. 27. t Jb xxxix. 19. LETTER VI. 175 ^^^^f ^*~r>*~^-*f**f^ the perfections of Nature. ^^~~f-~f.f^^^f^f~f.f^^^f ^-* only for a few minutes, of the aerial support, we sicken, we faint, we die. The same universal nurse has a considerable share in cherishing the several tribes of plants. It helps to transfuse vegetable vigour into the trunk of the oak ; and a blooming gaiety into the spread of the rose. The air undertakes to convey to our nostrils the extremely subtile effluvia, which transpire from odo- riferous bodies. Those detached particles are so im- perceptibly small, that they would elude the most careful hand, or escape the nicest eye. But this trusty depository receives and escorts the invisible vagrants, without losing so much as a single atom : entertaining us by this means, with the delightful sensations, which arise from the fragrance of flowers ; and ad- monishing us, by the transmission of offensive smells, to withdraw from an unwholesome situation, or be- ware of any pernicious food. The air, by its undulating motion, conducts to our ear all the diversities of sound ; and thereby discharges the duty of a most seasonable and faithful monitor. As 1 walk across the streets of London, with my eye engaged on other objects, a dray, perhaps, with all its load, is driving down directly upon me. Or, as I ride along the road, musing and unapprehensive, a chariot and six is whirling on, with a rapid career, at the heels of my horse. The air, like a vigilant friend, in pain for my vrelfare, immediately takes the alarm ; and, while the danger is at a considerable distance, dispatches a courier to advertise me of the approaching mischief. It even thunders in my ear; and with a clamorous but kind importunity, urges me to be upon my guard, and provide for my safety. The air wafts to our sense all the modulations of music, and the more agreeable entertainments of re- fined conversation. When Myrtilla strikes the silver strings, and teaches the willing harpsichord to warble with her Creator's praise; when her sacred sonata warms the heart with devotion, and wings our desires to heaven. When Cleora tunes her song, or the 178 THERON TO ASPASIO. A cursory view of r**r .^^f-f^^^f-f^^^t nightingale imitates her enchanting voice: when she heightens every melodious note, with her adored Re- deemer's name; and so smoothes her charming tones, so breathes her rapturous soul, " that God's o\vn ear listens delighted." When Wisdom takes its seat on Mitio's tongue*; and flows, in perspicuous periods, and instructive truths, 'amidst the chosen circle of his acquaintance. -When Benevolence, associated with Persuasion, dwell on Nicander's lips, and plead the cause of injured innocence, or oppressed virtue. When Goodness, leagued with Happiness, accom- pany Eusebius into the pulpit; and reclaim the liber- tine from the slavery of his vices ; disengage the in- fidel from the fascination of his prejudices ; and so affectionately, so pathetically invite the whole au- dience, to partake the unequalled joys of pure religion! In all these cases, the air distributes every musical variation with the utmost exactness ; and delivers the speaker's message, with the most punctual fidelity. Whereas, without this internnncio, all would be sullen and unmeaning silence. We should lose both the plea- sure and the profit ; neither be charmed with the har- monious, nor improved by the articulate accents. The breezes of the air, when vague and unconfined, are so very gentle, that they sport with the most in- offensive wantonness amidst Ophelia's locks, and scarce disadjust a single curl. But, when collected and applied by the contrivance of man, they act with such prodigious force, as is sufficient to whirl round the hugest wheels, though clogged with the most encumbering loads. They make the ponderous millstones move as swiftly, as the dancer's heel ; and the massy beams play as nimbly, as Hie musi- cian's finger. If we climb, in speculation, the higher regions, we find an endless succession of clouds, fed by evapora- tions from the ocean. The clouds are themselves a kind of ocean, suspended in the air with amazing skill. They travel in detached parties, and in the quality of itinerant cisterns, round all the terrestrial 15 LETTER VI. 177 ^s^N^^s^^^v^-^**^ the perfections of Nature. globe. They fructify, by proper communications of moisture, the spacious pastures of the wealthy ; and gladden, with no less liberal* showers, the cottager's little spot. Nay, so condescending is the benignity of their great proprietor, that they " satisfy the desolate and waste ground ; and cause, even in .the most un- cultivated wilds, the bud of the tender herb to spring forth :"* that the natives of the lonely desert, those savage herds which know no master's stall, may never- theless experience the care, and rejoice in the bounty, of an all-supporting Parent. How wonderful ! that the water, which is much denser and far heavier than the air, should rise into it; make its way through it; and take a station in the very uppermost regions of it! This, one would ima- gine, were almost as impossible, as for the rivers to run back to their source. Yet Providence has con- trived a way to render it not only practicable, but mat- ter of continual occurrence. How wonderful, that pendent lakes should be dif- fused, or fluid mountains heaped over our heads ; and both sustained in the thinnest parts of the atmosphere! We little think of that surprising expedient, which, without conduits of stone, or vessels of brass, keeps such loads of water in a buoyant state. Job and Elihu considered this, and were struck with holy ad- miration. Dost thou know the balancings of tlie clouds ? how such ponderous bodies are made to hang with an even poise, and hover like the lightest down? " These are the wondrous works of him, who is per- fect in knowledge."! He bindeth up the " waters in his clouds: and the cloud," though nothing is more loose and fluid, becomes, by his almighty order, strong and tenacious as casks of iron; it " isnotrent"J under all the weight. When the sluices are opened, and the waters de- scend, we might reasonably suspect, that they should burst forth in cataracts, or pour out themselves in * Job xxxviii. 27. t Job xxxvii. 16, Job xxvi, 8, VOL, II. 43, z 178 THERON TO ASPASIO. r^-^*f-r-^~^-~f~*^ A cursory view of torrents. Whereas, instead of such a disorderly and precipitate effusion, which would be infinitely perni- cious, they coalesce into globules, and are dispensed in gentle showers. They are often attenuated into the smallness of a hair:* they spread themselves, as if they were strained through the orifices of the finest watering-pot; and form " those small drops of rain, which the clouds distil upon man abundantly."! Thus, instead of drowning the earth, and sweeping away its fruits, they cherish universal nature ; and, in confor- mity to the practice of their great Master, distribute their humid stores to men, to animals, and vegetables, " as they are able to bear them."J Besides the reservoirs of water, here are cantoned various parties of winds, mild or fierce, gentle or boisterous; furnished with breezy wings, to JFan the glowing firmament, and diffuse refreshment on a faint- ing world ; or else fitted to act as an universal besom, and by sweeping the chambers of the atmosphere, to preserve the fine aerial fluid free from feculences. Without this wholesome agency of the winds, the air would stagnate, become putrid ; and surround us, in the literal sense of the words, " with darkness that might be felt." London, Paris, and all the great cities of the world, instead of being the seats of ele- gance, would degenerate into sinks of corruption. At sea, the winds swell the mariner's sails, and speed his course along the watery way ; speed it far more effectually than a thousand rowers, bending to their strokes, and tugging at the oar. By land, they perform the office of an immense seedsman, and scat- ter abroad the reproductive principles of a multitude of plants ; which, though the staff of life to many animals, are too small for the management, or too mean for the attention, of man. "Hebringeththewindsoutof * The Hebrew words, which convey the idea of gentle rain, signify a portion of water, made small as a hair, or divided into millions of parts, DTl'lLO CO'2"131 Deut. xxxii. 2. t Job xxxvi. 28. J Mark iv, 33, Exo]/V^H;, fvixwpov o n^v, xau ita-rra. oa wpeXitas tuxat uitofUTrot xctla,ffxtvofla.i Jl$ yoif rtmXocli nirnt, uot aftoAiyox otttv 7rt/po? >6p7ro rut wpoj 0io ;$)^^-.^Vv^S the perfections of Nature. MMMMI^^M^^MWMk scattered over the surface of the soil, the earth would be embarrassed with the enormous load. Our roads would he blocked up, and scarce any portion left free for the operations of husbandry. Were they buried extremely 'i ep, or sunk to the centre of the globe, it would cost us immense pains to procure them ; or rather, they would be quite inaccessible. Were they uniformly spread into a pavement for nature; the trees could not strike their roots, nor the herbs shoot their blades, but universal sterility must ensue. Whereas, by their present disposition, they furnish us with a magazine of metallic, without causing any diminution of our vegetable, treasures. Fossils of every splendidi and serviceable kind enrich the bowels, while bloom and verdure embellish the face of the earth. So judicious is the arrangement of this grand edi- fice! so beneficent the destination of its whole furni- ture!* in which, all is regulated with consummate skill, and touched into the highest perfection. AH most exactly adapted to the various intentions of Pro- vidence, and the manifold exigencies of mankind ; to supply every want we can feel ; and gratify every wish we can form. Insomuch that the whole system affords a favourite and exalted topic of praise, even to those distinguished beings, who stand on the sea of glass, " and have the harps of God in their hands." They lift their voice and sing, " Great and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty!"! And is there not reason, myAspasio would say, infinite reason, for us to join this trium- * No notice is taken of the ocean, in this little rent-roll of nature's wealth; because a distinct sketch is given of that grand receptacle and its principal services, in Letter IX. t Rev. xv. 3. " Great and marvellous are thy works, O Lord God Almighty ! just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints !" The first part seems to mean, what the inspired writer calls, " the song of Moses." The second contains what he styles, " the song of the Lamb." The first, I should imagine, relates to the stupendous work* of creation. The second alludes to the far more wonderful scheme of redemption. The former, describing the system of nature, is recorded by Moses ; the latter, comprehending the salvation of the saints, is accomplished by Christ. VOL. II. 43. 2 A 186 THERON TO ASPASIO. A cursory view of the perfections of Nature. phant choir; and add gratitude to our wonder, love to our hallelujahs? Since all these things are to us, not merely objects of contemplation, but sources of accommodation ; not only a majestic spectacle, bright with the display of our Creator's wisdom, but an in- estimable gift, rich with the emanations of his good- ness. The earth hath he set before the inhabitants of glory, but " the earth hath he given to the children of men."* Having given us ourselves ; given us a world ; has he not a right, a most unquestionable and unri- valled right, to make that tender demand, " My son, give me thy heart ?"f Shall 1 add another passage, which, viewed with any but the last paragraph, will be like the head of gold, eminent and conspicuous on feet of iron and clay? It is taken from the finest philosophical ora- tion that ever was made. I never read it, but with a glow of delight, and with impressions of awe. It is, in short, inimitably spirited and sublime. Yon think, perhaps, I act an impolitic part, in being so lavish of my praise, and that the quotation must suffer, by such an aggrandizing introduction. But I am under no ap- prehensions of this kind. Forbear to be delighted, if you can ; cease to admire, if you can; when you hear omniscience itself declaring, that, on the sight of this universal fabric, emerging out of nothing, " The morn- ing stars sang: together, and all the sons of God shouted forjoy."J The system was so graceful, so magnifi- cent, and in all other respects so exquisitely finished, that the most exalted intelligences were charmed, were transported. They know not how to express them- selves on the great occasion, but in shouts of exulta- tion, and songs of praise. Is it possible for imagination to conceive an encomium so just, so high, so beautifully noble? I am sure, after so much delicacy, and ma- jesty of sentiment, any thing of mine must be intolera- bly flat; unless you will except this one profession, that 1 am, with the most cordial sincerity, My dear Aspasio, inviolably yours, '_ ' THERON. * Psa, cxv. 16, f Prov. xxiii. 16. J Job xxxviii. 7. LETTER VII. 187 The wisdom of making philosophy a handmaid to religion. LETTER VII. ASPASIO TO THERON. Dear Theron, IF you write with such a view, and from such a mo- tive, as are mentioned in your last, expect no more free-will offerings from my pen. In this one instance, I shall think it my duty to be covetous. I shall act the miser out of principle, and hardly persuade my- self to part with a single line, till it is become an undeniable debt. I must turn your own artifice on yourself; and lay you under a necessity of oblig- ing, entertaining, and edifying me by your correspon- dence. For give me leave to assure you, that I am always delighted, and always improved, by your epistles. They shew me a multitude of beauties in the creation, which I should not otherwise have discerned. They point out the infinite power, the unsearchable wis- dom, and the charmingly rich goodness of the glorious Maker. Such a philosophy turns all nature into a school of instruction, and is an excellent handmaid to true religion. It makes every object a step, better than a golden step, to raise both our knowledge and our affections to the adorable and immortal Cause of all. While I am roving heedlessly along, your remarks often interpose, like some intelligent faithful monitor, who claps his hand upon my breast, and says, " Stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God."* Willingly I obey the admonition: the Christian may, with peculiar complacency, consider this grand ma- gazine of wonders ; this copious storehouse of bless- ings : and, conscious of an interest in Jesus, has a * Job xxxvii. 14. 188 ASPASIO TO THERON. The admirable perfection of right to call all " his own."* He may look round upon present things ; look foward into future things ; and, trusting in his Saviour's merits, may confidently say, " Not one only, but both these worlds are mine. By virtue of my Redeemer's righteousness, I possess the necessary accommodations of this life; and, on the same unshaken footing, 1 stand entitled to the incon- ceivable felicity of a better." Surely then it will be as pleasing an employ, and as important a search, to examine the validity of our title to future things, as to estimate the value of our present possessions. You have executed the one, let me attempt the other. You have surveyed material na- ture. It appears to be a fair and stately mansion ; void of all defect; and for the purposes which it is intended to answer, completely finished. Is not our Saviour's obedience, the provision made for indigent and guilty souls, equally rich and equally perfect ! Since this is everlasting and immutable ; since the other is transient and perishable; doubtless we may argue with the judicious apostle: " If that which is to be done away, which will soon be consigned over to dissolution, is glorious; much more that which remaineth, whose blessed effects continue to eternal ages, " is glorious."! We are every one " as an unclean thing." J O in- Very nature is contaminated. Even sanctitication, though it destroys the reigning, does not wholly supersede the polluting power of iniquity. So that whatever graces we exercise, whatever duties we perform, (like the rays of light transmitted through coloured glass, or like generous wine streaming from a defiled cask,) they receive some improper tinge, or contract some debasing taint. But Christ was entirely free from this innate contagion. He had no erroneous apprehensions in his mind, no corrupt bias upon his will, nor any irregular concupiscence in his affections. JBeing thus perfectly undefiled, "he did no sin; * 1 Cor. iii. 21. t 2 Cor. iii. 11. J Isa, Ixiv, 6. LETTER VII. 189 -x-^x-,xs. Christ's righteousness. neither was guile found in his mouth."* All his thoughts were innocent, all his words were irreproach- able, and every action blameless. The most accom- plished among the children of men, when surprised in some unguarded moment, or assaulted on some weak side, have been betrayed into error, or hurried into sin. Even Moses spake unadvisedly with his lips; and Aaron, the saint of the Lord, warped to idolatrous practices. They were like some stagnating lake ; in which, the dregs being subsided, the waters appear clean; but when stirred by temptation, or agitated by affliction, the sediment rises, and the pool is discoloured. Whereas, Christ may be compared to a fountain, that is all transparency, and pure to the very bottom ; which, however shaken, however dis- turbed, is nothing but fluid crystal ; permanently and invariably clear. It was a small thing for the blessed Jesus, to have no depraved propensity ; he was born in a state of consummate rectitude, and adorned with all the beau- ties of holiness. " Holiness to the Lord" was in- scribed, not on the mitre, but on the heart of our great High Priest. Therefore he is styled, by the angelic harbinger of his birth, " That Holy Thing."-)- In the prophecy of Zechariah, the dignity of our Redeemer's nature, and the perfection of his obedi- ence, are displayed by the similitude of a stone,J adorned with exquisite engraving; wrought, not by Bezaleel or Aholiab, though divinely inspired artists, * 1 Pet. ii. 22. t Luke i. 35. Which is spoken, in contradistinction to the state of all other births ; and implies the universal prevalence of original corruption, this one instance only excepted. For, if other infants were holy at their first formation, and made after the image of God, this remark had been trivial and impertinent, if not droll and bur- lesque ; like saying with great solemnity, " The child shall have a mouth and a head ; aye, and eyes in the one, and lips to the other." \ Zech. Hi. 9. " Behold the stone that I have laid before Joshua: upon one stone shall be seven eyes ; behold ! 1 will engrave the grav- ing thereof, saith the Lord of hosts, and I will remove the iniquity of that land in one day." 190 ASPASIO TO THEROV. >^^S^^ >XV^^S^-vXV^'X^V^V^^ The admirable perfection of ^V^s^s^v^s^-tX-** .^s^v^^s^s^ but by the finger of Jehovah himself; and more highly finished, than it is possible for human skill to equal, or human thought to conceive. The whole tenor of our Lord's conduct, \vasaliving exemplification of piety and morality, in their most extensive branches, and most aminble forms. Saints of the highest attainments, have fallen short of the glory of God; have been far from reaching the exalted standard of his precepts. But Christ failed in no point, came short in no degree. We formerly ob- served the great sublimity, and vast extent of the di- vine law. From whence appears the extreme diffi- culty, nay the utter impossibility of our justification, on account of any duties performed by ourselves. How should we rejoice then to contemplate the vica- rious righteousness of our condescending and adorable Surety? As the mercy seat was exactly commensu- rate to the dimensions of the ark ; so did our Lord's obedience most fully quadrate with all and every de- mand of the divine law. It flowed from those best of principles, supreme love to God, and unfeigned affec- tion to mankind. From those two capital sources, let us trace our Lord's obedience, through some little part of its illus- trious progress. His delight in God was conspicuous, even from his early years. The sacred solemnities of the sanctuary, were more engaging to his youthful mind, than all the entertainments of a festival. When he entered upon his ministry, whole nights were not too long for his copious devotions. The lonely retirements of the deserts, as affording opportunity for undisturbed communion with God, were more desirable to Christ, than the applauses of an admir- ing world. So ceaseless and transcendent was his love to God, that he never sought any separate pleasure of his own; but always did those things which were pleasing in his Father's sight. His own will was entirely absorbed in the will of the Most High ; and " it was his meat and drink," refreshing and delightful as the richest LETTER VII. Christ's righteousness. food, or as royal dainties, " to finish the work that was given him to do."* So entirely devoted to the honour of God, that a zeal for his house, and for the purity of his ordi- nances, is represented, by the evangelical historian, as " eating him up."f Like a heavenly flame glowing in his breast, it sometimes fired him with a graceful indignation ; it sometimes melted him into godly sor- row ; and, by exerting itself in a variety of vigorous efforts, consumed his vital spirits. So active and unremitted was the obedience of the blessed Jesus, that the sun did not enter upon his race with a more constant assiduity, nor dispatch his business with greater expedition ; and sure I am, that radiant luminary never dispensed beams, half so bright or a thousandth part so beneficial. Short was his span, but how grand and extensive were his ser- vices ! So grand, that they bring more glory to God, than all the administrations of providence, and the phenomena of nature. So extensive, that they spread, in their gracious efficacy, to the ends of the earth, and to the closing period of time. Nay, they will dif- fuse their blessed influence even to the celestial world, and have no other limits of their duration than the ages of eternity. Most affectionately concerned for the welfare of mankind, he spent his strength, not barely in reliev- ing them, when his aid was implored ; but in seeking the afflicted, and offering his assistance. With great fatigue,:}; he travelled to remote cities; and with no less * John iv. 34. t John ii. 17. J Jesus being weary with his journey, oc6{7o slut, John iv. G. ]? is thus explained by a Greek commentator, wVAw?, * u<; ilt^e. Our Lord sat down, without ceremony and without complaint, even on the rough place: contented to use it, just as he found it; neither desiring a softer seat, nor wishing for any better accommodation. I rather think, the adverb refers to the preceding adjective xjxoTnaxwf, which signifies a state of very great fatigue ; weakening a person to such a degree, that he can hardly walk with steady steps, or even sit in a right attitude. The sacred historian seems to mean, that our Lord sat in such a posture, as spoke the lassitude of his body ; declared 192 ASPA8IO TO THERON. ^^~*^f^**^*-~r^f^^*^*-^**- The admirable perfection of ^r^r^^^*^*^**~f~*r*~f**r-^-^* condescension, he visited the meanest villages, that all might have the benefit and comfort of his presence. Though multitudes of miserable objects were brought to him from every quarter, yet he was pleased even to prevent the wishes of the distressed, and " went about doing good.'* He gave sight*, and all the agreeable scenes of na- ture, to the blind ; health, and all the choice comforts of life, to the diseased. He expelled malevolent raging demons ; and restored, what is more precious than the light of the body, or the vigour of the con- stitution, the calm possession of the intellectual facul- ties. What greatly surpassed all the preceding bless- ings, he released the wretched soul from the dominion of darkness, from the tyranny of sin. He made his followers partakers of a divine nature, and prepared them for a state of never-ending bliss. o Such priceless treasures of wisdom and beneficence flowed from his tongue, and were poured from his hands! How different those triumphs of mercy, from the trophies erected, by wild ambition, in the bloody field! If heathens celebrated those mighty butchers, who made cities their slaughter-house ; made half the globe their shambles ; and measured their merit by the devastations they spread ; how should Christians ad- mire their heavenly Benefactor, who rose upon a wretched world, with healing under his wings ; who distributed, far and near, the unspeakably rich gifts of knowledge and holiness, of temporal happiness and eternal joy ! Nor were these righteous acts his strange work, but his repeated, his hourly, his almost incessant em- the failure of his spirits ; and shewed him to be spent with the heat of the day, and the toil of travelling. Which circumstance gives a most beautiful heightening to his charity and zeal, so generously and so successfully exerted in the following circumstance. * Ex/atp!{. Heb. i. 3. In other objects, we have only some obscure footsteps, or dim traces ; here we have the glory of the Godhead. And not barely the glory, but the very brightness of the Father's glory; or, all the divine per- fections beaming forth with adequate, that is, with ineffable and in- finite splendour. || Gen. k 31. 3ps^>jp^F>^^r^ Think not, that what I have written is the language of rant. It is a paraphrase, though, 1 must confess, but a scanty paraphrase on David's practice, and David's faith. "My mouth shall shew forth thy righ- teousness and thy salvation all the day,"* for i know not the numbers thereof. The glorious righteousness of Christ, and the great salvation obtained thereby, he declares, shall be the chosen, the principal subject of his discourse. And not on a sabbath only, but on every day of the week, of the year, of his life. And not barely at the stated returns of solemn devotion, but in every social interview, and all the day long. Why will he thus dwell, perpetually and invariably * Psa. Ixxi. 15. I cannot but observe, (hat righteousness and sal- vation are frequently connected, by the author of the psalms, and by the prophet Isaiah : in order to intimate, that the one is founded on the other ; the latter derives its origin from the former ; there can be no salvation without a righteousness, a real, proper, law-fulfilling righteousness. At the same time I am sensible, that tlie word righ- teousness may signify God's goodness in making, and faithfulness in performing, his promises unto David. Salvation may likewise denote the delivery of that afflicted hero from all his persecutors, and his establishment on the throne of Israel. But if we should confine the sense to these narrow limits, how com- fortless the favour even to David himself, considered as an immortal being? How much more insignificant to us and others, on whom the ends of the world are come ! And how very unworthy of that infinite God, who is the Father of the spirits of all flesh ! who sees at one view, whatever is, or has been, or shall exist ; who therefore, when he speaks, speaks to all his children, in every period of time, and in every nation under heaven. As much as a tutor, when delivering his lectures, addresses himself to all his pupils, whether they sit at his right hand or his left, before him or on every side. Whereas if righteousness signifies the meritorious obedience of Christ, and salvation implies the benefits of his redemption, the sense is no longer shrivelled, impoverished, and mean; but rich, august, and magnificent. It pours consolation among all people, kindreds, and tongues. It is worthy of that God, who seeth the things and re- gardeth the persons which are not, as though they were. It comports exactly with that revelation, in which Christ is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, the sum total. This note is already too long ; otherwise I should take leave to gra- tify my inclination, and give a sanction to my sentiment, by tran- scribing Vitringa's exposition of Isaiah xlv. 8. VOL. II. 44. 2 C 202 ASPASIO TO THE RON. The admirable perfection of dwell, on this darling theme? Because he knew no end thereof. It is impossible to measure the value, or exhaust the fulness of these blessings. The righ- teousness is unspeakable, the salvation is everlast- ing. To compute the duration of the one, numbers fail ; to describe the excellency of the other, words are at a loss. . And is this righteousness designed for us ? Is this to be our wedding-dress, this our beautiful array, when we enter the regions of eternity ? Unspeakable privilege! Is this what God has provided to supply, more than supply our loss in Adam? Boundless be- nignity ! Shall we be treated by the Judge of the world, as if we had performed all this unsinning and perfect obedience? Well might the prophet cry out, like one lost in astonishment, " How great is his goodness ! Is not your heart enamoured, my dear Theron, with a view of this incomprehensibly-rich grace? What so excellent, what so comfortable, what so desirable, as this gift of a Saviour's righteous- ness ! Though delineated by this feeble pen, me- thinks it has dignity and glory enough, to captivate our hearts and fire our affections ; fire them with ar- dent and inextinguishable desires after a personal in- terest and property in it. O ! may the eternal Spirit reveal our Redeemer's righteousness, in all its hea- venly beauty and divine lustre! Then, I am sure, we shall esteem it above every thing; we shall regard it as the one thing needful ; we shall count all things in comparison of it, worthless as the chaff, and empty as the wind. To an immortal and fallen soul, every thing else is empty as the wind ; but here sinners may " suck and be satisfied with this breast of consolations;" yea, thousands and thousands of millions may " milk out, and be delighted with the abundance of its glory."* Here we shall find the doctrine of supererogation no longer a chimera, but a delightful reality. Here m- * Isa. Ixvi. 11. LETTER VII. 203 Christ's righteousness. deed is an immense surplusage, an inexhaustible fund of merit,* sufficient to enrich a whole world of in- digent and miserable creatures ; sufficient to make their cup run over with a superabundant fulness of peace and joy, so long as time shall last, and when time shall be 110 more. For to use the apostle's weighty argument, " if by one man's offence, death reigned by one; much more they which receive abun- dance of grace, and of the gift of righteousness, shall reign in life by one Jesus Christ."f If one offence, committed by one mere man, made all his posterity chargeable with guilt, and liable to death ; how much more shall the manifold instances of our divine Re- deemer's obedience; of his long, uninterrupted, con- summate righteousness; how much more shall they absolve all his people from condemnation and punish- ment, and entitle them to the honours and joys of immortality! Which will appear in a clear light, if to the perfec- tion of his obedience, we add the majesty of his person. A proper subject this for some future letter. In the mean time, let me desire my friend, the friend of my bosom, to contemplate our Lord Jesus under the lovely and august character, " Glorious in holiness. "J And, for my part, I will not cease to pray, that a sense of this supereminently grand and precious righteousness may be written on my Theron's heart. On those living tables, may it be like figures cut on a rock of solid marble, or inscribed on the bark of a growing tree ; be lasting in its duration as the former, and * Yet here is no rich fund, (as a learned writer asserts) no fund at all, for the pope's treasury of meritorious supererogating actions : unless Christ and the pope are to be placed upon the same footing ; unless the ineffably excellent obedience of a dying Redeemer, and the miserably defective duties of sinful men, are to be deemed equally valuable. Since this will hardly be admitted by protestants ; I be- lieve Aspasio may safely call the obedience of Christ, the true supe- rerogation ; as Mr. Ambrose has called the blood of Christ, the true purgatory. t Rom. v. 17. J Exod. xv. 11. 204 ASPASIO TO THERON. The admirable perfection of Christ's righteousness. spreading in its influence as the latter. It will then be a sure proof, that his name is written in the book of life; and it shall then be a pleasing pattern for the affection, the gratitude, and the friendship, of his ASPASIO. P. S. You give a most astonishing account of the pressure of the atmosphere. Astonishing indeed! that we should be continually surrounded, continually overwhelmed, with such a tremendous load ; and not be crushed to death, no, nor be sensible of the least weight. This, I think, may serve to represent the state of a sinner, unawakened from carnal security. Loads, more than mountainous loads of guilt, are upon his soul, and he perceives not the burden. For this reason, he is under no apprehensions of the ven- geance and fiery indignation, which he deserves; he has no superlative esteem for the atonement and merits of the Redeemer, which alone can deliver him from the wrath to come. But, if once his conscience feels, what his lips, perhaps, have often repeated : " We do earnestly repent us of these our misdoings; the remembrance of them is grievous unto us, the burden of them is intolerable;" then how will he prize such a text: " The Lord laid on Christ the iniquity of us all !" How will he long for an interest in the Lamb of God, " which taketh away the sin of the world !" Then that Jesus who has " finished the transgression, and brought in everlasting righteousness," will be all his salvation, and all his desire. LETTER VIII. 205 The life of Joseph, one of the finest pieces of sacred history. ***-*~^-~f^- ^-^~**-~*~**^~*^f~**^^ LETTER VIII. ASPASIO TO THERON. Dear Theron, I HAVE just been reading that exquisitely fine piece of sacred history, the life of Joseph. A history, filled with surprising incidents, and unexpected revo- lutions; adorned with the most heroic instances of triumphant virtue, both amidst all the allurements of temptation, and under the pressures of affliction: animated with such tender and pathetic, such melting and alarming touches of natural eloquence, as every reader must feel, and every true critic will admire. When I came to that remarkable injunction, with which the generous viceroy dismissed his brethren ; " Ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt ;"* I paused, I pondered, I was struck. Certainly this was injoined, not by way of ostentation ; but on account of the pleasure which he knew it would yield the good old patriarch. Was it some kind prompting angel, or the voice of gratitude and devotion, that whispered in my ear ? " Should not the children of men likewise tell one another of all the glory,f which * Gen. xlv. 13. t To see the glory of Christ, is the grand blessing which our Lord solicits and demands for his disciples, in his solemn intercession, John xrii. 24. It is that which will complete the blessedness of hea- ven, and fill its inhabitants with joy unspeakable and glorious. Surely, then, we should endeavour to anticipate, in some degree, that celestial bliss, and habituate our souls to this sacred exercise, which will be our business and our reward to endless ages. Should the reader desire assistance in this important work, I would refer him to a little treatise of Dr. Owen's, entitled, Meditations on the Glory of Christ. 'Tis little in size, not so in value. Was I to speak of 'it in the classical style, I should call it, " aureus, gemmeus, mellitus." But I would rather say, it is richly replenished with unction 206 THERON TO ASPASIO. ~_rff*^f**~,f-^~^~*-*~~** -*-***-* .*- ***-*-*** A promise to resume the subject of Christ's righteousness. their Redeemer possesses in heaven and on earth? Will not this afford them the sublimest pleasure here, and be a source of the most refined satisfaction for ever and ever?" Though I had almost determined to write no more, till you could make a demand upon the foot of value received, willingly I recede from my intended resolu- tion, and obey this pleasing hint. But " who can de- clare the noble acts of the Lord Jesus Christ, or shew forth all his praise?" However, if I may but lisp out his adorable name, and present my friend with a glimpse, or a broken view of his divine perfections, even this will be desirable and delightful ; far more .desirable and delightful, than to behold Rome in its magnificence, St. Paul in the pnlpit, or king Solomon on his throne.* Let me take the lark for my pattern ; which, as I was lately returning from an evening ramble, attracted my observation. Warbling her Creator's praise, she mounted in the serene sky. Still she warbled, and still she mounted, as though she meant to carry her tribute of harmony unto the very gates of heaven. Having reached, at last, her highest elevation, and perceiving herself at an immense distance from the starry mansions, she dropped on a sudden to the earth; and discontinued, at once, both to sing and to soar. Now the morning appears, and is awakening the world, our little songster retunes her throat, and re-exerts her wings. As 1 have endeavoured, very imperfectly endeavoured, to strike out a shadowy draught of our Lord's complete obedience; I would, though unequal to the task, once more resume my pen, and attempt nothing like a display, but only a faint sketch of his essential dignity. from the Holy One, which tends to enlighten the eyes, and to cheer the heart: which sweetens the enjoyments of life, softens the horrors of death, and prepares for the fruitions of eternity. * These, if I remember right, are the three things, which St. Augustine declared, would, of all others, most eminently gratify his curiositv. LETTER VIII. 207 Description of a drought. First let me observe, that, for some time past, we have been visited with the most uncomfortable wea- ther; dewless nights, and sultry days. The firma- ment was more like a glowing furnace, than the re- gion of refreshing rain. The earth lay parched with thirst, and chapped with heat. The meadows were drained of their humidity, and all the flowers hung their fading heads. The streams, which used to flow parallel with the verdant margin, abandoned their banks ; and sunk, diminished and discoloured, to the bottom of their oozy channels. Nature in general seemed to be resigning the " robe of beauty, for the garment of heaviness." Drought was in all our bor- ders; and famine, we feared, was not far behind. Though clouds of dust obscured the air, tarnished the hedges, and almost smothered the traveller; yet not one cloud of fleecy white appeared, to varie- gate the blue expanse, or give us hopes of a reviving shower.* It reminded me of that awful threatening, denoun- ced by Moses on a wicked people: " The heaven, that is over thy head, shall be brass, and the earth, that is under thee, shall be iron."| It made me apprehen- sive of that terrible state, which the prophet so em- phatically describes : " The field is wasted, and the land mourneth. The seed is rotten under the clods, and the harvest perisheth. The garners are laid deso- late, and the barns are broken down. The new wine is dried up ; the oil languisheth ; and all the trees of the field are withered. How do the beasts groan ! the herds of cattle are perplexed. Yea, the flocks of * At such a juncture, how pertinent is the question, proposed by the almighty Majesty ! Job xxxviii. 37, 38. " Who can number," muster or arrange, " the clouds in wisdom?" so as to have them ready at hand, on any emergency. " And who can empty those bottles of heaven," in copious but seasonable effusions upon the earth, " when," as in the case described above, " the dust" of the road is " attenuated into powder, pjfiob DpJQ and the clods" of the valley " are glued fast together, ip2T- f Deut. xxviii, 23, 208 ASPASIO TO THERON. Grandeur of the sun after a night of rain. sheep are made desolate. Because the rivers of waters are dried up, and the fire hath devoured the pastures of the wilderness."* But, blessed be the divine Pro- vidence, our fears are vanished, and a most joyful change has taken plane. The Lord hath " sent a gra- cious rain upon his inheritance, and refreshed it when it was weary."| Yesterday in the afternoon, the wind shifting to the south, roused the dormant clouds, and brought some of those agreeable strangers on its wings. At first, they came sailing in small, and thin, and scattered parties. Anon, the flying squadrons advanced in larger detachments, more closely wedged, and more deeply laden. Till, at last, the great rendezvous completed, they formed into a body of such depth, and extended their wings with such a sweep, as dark- ened the sun, and overspread the whole hemisphere. Just at the close of day, the gales which escorted the spongy treasures, retired ; and consigned their charge to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze shook the most tremulous leaf. Not a curl ruffled the smooth expansive lake. All things were still, as in attentive expectation. The earth seemed to gasp after the hovering moisture. Nature, with her sup- pliant tribes, in expressive pleading silence, solicited the falling fruitfulness ; nor pleaded long, nor solicited in vain. The showers, gentle, soft, and balmy, descend. The vessels of heaven unload their precious freight, and en- rich the penurious glebe. Through all the night, the liquid sweetness, incomparably more beneficial than trickling silver, distils : shedding herbs, and fruits, and flowers. Now the sun, mild and refulgent, issues through the portals of the east. Pleased, as it were, to have emerged from the late aggravated darkness, he looks abroad, with peculiar gaiety, and the most engaging splendours. He looks through the dis- burdened air, and finds a gladdened world, that * Joel i. 1, &c. t Psa, Ixviii. 9. 6 LETTER VIII. 209 Grandeur of the sun after a night of rain. wants nothing but Tiis all-cheering beams, to render its satisfaction complete. The glory comes! Hail to thy rising ray, Great lamp of light, and second source of day ! Who robe the world, each nipping gale remove, Treat ev'ry sense, and beam creating lore.* At his auspicious approach, the freshened moun- tains lift their heads, and smile. The garden opens its aromatic stores ; and breathes, as from a fuming; altar, balm to the smell, and incense to the skies. The little hills, crowned with springing plenty, clap their hands on every side. The moistened plains, and irriguous valleys, laugh and sing. While their waters, lately exhausted, again " are made deep, and their rivers run like oil."'}" The whole earth, saturated with the bounty of hea- ven, and flushed with humid life, wears a thousand marks of gratitude and complacency. Washed by the copious rain, how bright and vivid is the universal verdure? The green carpet below may almost vie with the blue canopy above. The forest, and every tree, burnish their colours, and array themselves in their finest apparel : which, as on a day of general festivity, is delicately decked with gems ; gems of un- sullied lustre, and of genial moisture. From every pasture, and from all the grove, the voice of pleasure and of melody resounds. While the officious zephyrs waft the floating harmony blended with native per- fumes ; gently waft them to the senses, and touch the very soul with transport. Could there be a more brilliant appearance, or more exuberant demonstrations of joy, even to celebrate the anniversary of nature's birth? With what admi- rable propriety has the psalmist compared yonder * These beautiful lines are borrowed from the Sea-piece, canto IV. A narratory, philosophical, and descriptive poem, written by my ingenious friend, Dr. Kirkpatrick. t Ezek. xxxii 14. VOL. II, 44. 2 D 210 ASPASIO TO THERON. Grandeur of the sun after a night of rain, .X^^^^XV^-^--X-_^-_x-.^.X--,^^-^v^v^x-^-^x-^^ orient sun, in all his sparkling grandeur, to a young exulting " bridegroom ;"* who comes forth, with every heightened ornament from his chamber, to shew him- self in the most distinguished period of his life, and to receive the blessing which consummates his hap- piness ! This most charming and equally majestic scene, recals to my memory that fine description of the Mes- siah, extant in the last lovely strains of the Israelitish swanf He shall be welcome and salutary " as the light of the morning; when the sun ariseth," to chase the malignant shades, and pour day through the re- viving world. He shall be as the light of a morning, that is most serenely fair ; without either storms to disturb, or clouds to obscure the glorious, the delight- ful dawn. Yea, his appearance shall be more beau- tiful, and his influences more beneficial, J than the clear shining of that grand luminary, after a night of settled gloom, and showers of incessant rain. When his beams shed animating warmth, and vital lustre, on * Psa. \\K. 5. t Israelitish swan In allusion to those well-known lines of the poet, Multa Dircaeum levat aura cygnum. And not without a reference to the popular notion, that the swan sings the most melodious notes in its last moments. " Fuit haec facundi senis, quasi cygnea vox." Tully. I " More beautiful, more beneficial, than the clear shining," 2 Sam. xxiii. Thus we have ventured to translate, or rather to para- phrase, the words IT13Q. That the prefix O often occurs in the ac- ceptation of comparative pre-eminence, is plain from a very remark- able passage in Psalm xix. 10. Where our inspired author, quite ravished with the love of the sacred oracles, de lares, " they are desirable beyond gold, even beyond the droppings of the honey- comb." If this sense is admitted, we shall have a fine comparison, and a grand advance upon it; acknowledging the insufficiency even of the strongest and brightest images, to represent the glorj of Christ's king- dom, and the benignity of his administration. Perhaps the transla- tion may be too free and daring, and not approve itself to the exact critic. The sense, however, is unquestionably just; agreeable to the whole tenor of scripture ; and can want no recommendation to the intelligent Christian. LETTER VIII. 211 illustrative of the majesty of Christ, as the Lord of glory. the tender grass impearled with dews, and on all the green treasures of the teeming earth. As we have already contemplated the blessed Jesus, under the amiable character of the Just One ; the fore- going passage of scripture represents him to our faith, in the more majestic quality of the Lord of Glory: or rather, unites the two grand peculiarities, which ren- der him unparalleled in his personal, and all-sufficient in his mediatorial capacity. Great, unspeakably great and glorious would our Saviour appear, if we had no other manifestations of his excellency, than those which preceded his myste- rious incarnation. In the ancient scriptures, he stand- characterized, as the supreme object of God's ineffable complacency; vested with a glory, prior to the birth of time, or the existence of things; even " the glory which he had with the Father, before the world was."* He is every where exhibited, as the ultimate desire of all nations ; the sole hope of all the ends of the earth ; the seed, of inestimable and uni- versal importance, in whom all people, nations, and languages; should be blessed. In those royal, or ra- ther divine acts and monuments, he is publicly re- cognized, as the Ruler of God's people : whose domi- nion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom from generation to generation. And how august, how vene- rable, is this Sovereign ! since it was the highest ho- nour of the most eminent saints, and renowned mo- narchs,f to act as his harbingers. The splendour of the temple, the richness of its ornaments, and the solem- nity of its services, were the ensigns of his grandeur; were his sacred regalia, intended to usher him into the world with becoming state. Every inspired prophet was his herald ; deputed to blazon his perfections, or foretell his coining. Let us * John xvii. 5. t Moses, for instance, and Joshua, David, and Solomon, were types, strongly marked types, of our great Lawgiver and Deliverer, of our divine Ruler and Preacher. 212 ASPASIO TO THERON. The meritorious excellency of Christ's righteousness illustrated, hear one speaking the sentiments of all. " God the Saviour came from Tenian, and the Holy One from mount Paran. His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of his praise."* Thunders sounded his trumpet, and lightnings waved his banners. " Be- fore him went the pestilence," for the destruction of his enemies ; hut, for the deliverance of Israel, " he rode upon his horses and chariots of salvation. The mountains saw him, and they trembled ; the everlast- ing hills, and they bowed their heads. The abyss uttered her voice," and acknowledged his sovereignty through her deepest caverns, " the towering surges! lifted up their hands," and remained in a suspended posture, while people passed through their opening lines. Indeed, both depth and height, and every creature, have paid him homage, and done him ser- vice. And shall not we, my dear Theron, " submit to his righteousness?" Submit! Shall we not em- brace it; rely on it; and, with joyful hearts, with triumphant tongues, say, " There is none, there is nothing like it?"J * See Hab. iii. The greatest part of which sublime ode refers to the wonderful works recorded by Moses and Joshua. It seems, espe- cially in the exordium, to be an imitation of that grand and majestic description, with which the Jewish legislator introduces his last so- lemn benediction, Deut. xxxiii. These works are by Aspasio ascribed to Christ. And, I think, it is demonstrably certain, that Jesus Christ is the Jehovah celebrated iu the books of Moses, and in the writings of the prophets. It is Christ, who dwelt in the burning bush, and walked in the burning fiery furnace. It is Christ, who wrought the miracles in Egypt, and the wonders in the field of Zoan. The temporal deliverer, and the eternal Redeemer of Israel, are one and the same. He is that Captain of the ho^ts of the Lord, who gave the nations as dust to their sword, and as driven stubble to their bow, Josh. v. 14. He is the mighty One, who punished the stout heart of the king of Assyria; who cut down the thickets of his forest, and lopped his bough with terror, Isa. x. 34. He gave Moses his commission ; gave Moses his law ; and was both the Lord, and the end, of that sacred, significant, mysterious economy. Compare 1 Cor. x. 9. with Numb. xxi. 6, 7. See Dan. iii. 25. Heb. iii. 3, 4. t CDD which, I think, is put in opposition to Qinn and forms a beautiful contrast, verse 10. I 1 Sam. xxi. 9. LETTER VIII. 213 from the magnificence of his works, and the divinity of his person. Does not all mankind agree to estimate the merit of the practice, according to the dignity of the person? If a neighbour of inferior rank visit some poor afflicted wretch, in a coarse garret, and on a tattered bed, it is no very extraordinary favour. But if a lady of the first distinction, or a nobleman of the highest order, perform the same office; it is a much more remarka- ble, a much more admired instance of self-denying charity. On the foot of this calculation, to what a supereminent height will the worthiness of our Lord's obedience rise! It will rise, like some magnificent edifice, whose basis rests upon the centre ; whose di- mensions fill the hemisphere, and whose turrets glit- ter in the sky. Or rather, it will extend itself to immensity ; where length, and breadth, and all dimen- sions, are lost. Especially, if we consider the names he bears, and the honours he receives ; 'the works he has done, and those mightier works he is ap- pointed to do. The names he bears. The title by which Jesus of Nazareth is distinguished in the heavenly world ; the name written on his vesture, and on his thigh, is " King of kings, and Lord of lords."* The descrip- tion, which the incomprehensible Jehovah gives of the Surety of sinful men, runs in this exalted strain, " The man that is My FelJow."t Which the apostle ex- plains, in that memorable and majestic clause, " He thought it .no robbery to be equal with God."J The * Rev. xix. 16. t Zech. xiii. 7. 'fi'Qy Contribulis vel coequalis ; my fellow, or my equal. The original expression occurs no where, but in this verse of Zechariah, and in the book of Leviticus. In one text it is explained by brother, or partaker of the same nature. In every other place, I believe it would be found to signify, not barely a neighbour, but equal; one who stands upon the same level, with regard to the claims of equity, and the common rights of life. In either sense, it militates strongly the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. I Phil. ii. fi. Some writers, I am aware, have endeavoured to in- terpret away this evidence of our Lord's divine nature ; but I think with great injury to the context, and no less violence to the phrase. Aprr*fao<;, as far as I can observe, denotes, not the prize or spoil, 214 ASPASIO TO THERON. The meritorious excellency of Christ's righteousness illustrated, Holy Ghost, speaking by the great prophet Isaiah of the Virgin's Son, enumerates several grand distinctions, both of his person, and his office. He styles the child that should be born, the Wonderful Counsellor, the Everlasting Father, the Mighty God, the Prince of Peace.* The same inspired writer, though eloquent above all orators, and more sublime than the loftiest poet, cries out in rapturous astonishment, " Who can declare his generation ?"f What pencil can pourtray, what language can express, his matchless excellences? And may we not with equal propriety demand, Who can declare the meritorious perfection of his righteous- ness? It is precious beyond comparison; beyond ima- gination precious. but the act of plundering or taking the spoil ; " ipsa rapiendi actio." Vide Steph. Thesaur. Graec. Ling. If so, the text most naturally im- plies, that Christ counted it no act of robbery ; no invasion of ano- ther's prerogative ; but looked upon it as his unquestionable right, to be equal with God, and to receive divine honours. Nevertheless ( aAA, Horn. v. 14.) he was so far from tenaciously insisting upon it, that he willingly relinquished the claim. He was content to forego the magnificent distinctions of the Creator, and to appear in the form of a creature : nay, to be made in the likeness of the fallen crea- tures ,- and not only to share the disgrace, but to suffer the punishment, due to the meanest and vilest among them all. An example of humility, worthy to be displayed by the eloquence of an apostle, or the tongue of an archangel; worthy to be the everlasting pattern, and the ever- lasting praise, of all believers. But however ap9ra//i*o< be translated, the stress of the argument, I apprehend, lies upon the word io-a. If this signifies a real and pro- per equality, the proof seems, to me at least, irrefragable. How shall we determine the exact significancy of this important word ; by having recourse to Homer's works, or to heathen authors? This, in case the sacred writers will decide the question, is like going from Jerusalem to Athens for the solution of a religious doubt, even while the college of apostles is sitting at the former place. The word oc- curs five or six times in their writings. They use it, it is true, in the adjective form ; but the adjective is very sufficient to settle the signi- fication of the adverb. If I know the meaning of KTO;, I shall be at no loss to understand the import of (era. See Matt. xx. 12. Luke vi. 34. John v. 18. Acts xi. 17. Rev. xxi. 16. In all which places it expresses not a bare resemblance or likeness only, but a real and proper equality. * Isa, ix, 6. i Isa. liii. 8. LETTER VIII. 215 ^~****^~r*~***r^r-^-^^r^^^^^^^^r.^^^0.^ ^ from the magnificence of his works, and the divinity of his person. The honours which our Lord receives, are propor- tioned to the illustrious characters which he sustains. John the ^Baptist, than whom a greater prophet, or a better judge, was not born of a woman, professes himself unworthy " to stoop down and unloose the latchet of his shoes;"* unworthy, though a burning and shining light in his generation, to perform the meanest service to this Prince of heaven. Stephen, who leads the van in the noble army of Christian mar- tyrs, beheld such a representation of his crucified Master's glory, as enabled him to exult with divine delight, even amidst the furious assaults of his perse- cutors, and under the violent blows of his murderers.! Assured, that Jesus has all power in heaven and earth, by an act of the most solemn worship, he com- mits his departing soul, that most important of all trusts, to his Redeemer's hand.J Nor by the first martyr alone, but in all churches of the saints, and in every age of Christianity, has the Lord Jesus been addressed, as the constant object of his people's ado- ration ; and acknowledged, as the ever-faithful depo- sitory of their eternal interests. When Isaiah beheld a visionary manifestation of Christ, the first-born sons of light were waiting around him, in postures of dutiful submission. These celestial beings, whose very feet were too bright for mortals to view, veil their faces before his infinite su- perior effulgence. The seraphs, who are all zeal, and all love, celebrate his perfections, and cry one to ano- ther, " The whole earth is full of his glory." The be- loved disciple, in a vision no less clear, and far more magnificent, beholds the Lamb that was slain, stand- ing in the midst of a resplendent throne; most beau- tifully adorned with a circling rainbow, and terribly dignified by the blaze of lightnings, and the sound of thunders. Before this august throne, and at the dis- posal of the once slaughtered Saviour, are " seven * Mark i. 7. t Acts vii. 56. I Acts vii. 59. Isa. vi. 1, 2, &c. compared with John xii. 41. 216 ASPASIO TO THERON. The meritorious excellency of Christ's righteousness illustrated, lamps of burning fire;" expressive of the divine Spirit, in all the variety of his miraculous gifts, and sanctify- ing graces.* Four and twenty elders, clothed in white raiment, with crowns on their heads, and the harps of God in their hands, fall prostrate in deep homage before the Lamb. They strike the golden strings, and sing that sublime eucharistic hymn: " Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and hast made us, unto our God, kings and priests.f Behold the hierarchies of angels: they are in num- ber ten thousand times ten thousand. Hark ! they raise their voice, and awaken all the powers of har- mony. Who is the subject, and what is the burden of their song? " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and blessing." Nor these alone, but every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, join the immense chorus. They cry, in loud responsive strains of melody and devotion, " Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever."J This, you observe, is the devout acknowledgment, not only of the cherubim, the seraphim, and the spirits of just men made perfect, but of every crea- ture. The sun, the moon, and the" stars, which gar- nish the heavens ; beasts and creeping things, moun- tains and hills, fruit-trees, and all cedars, which re- plenish the earth: metals and minerals, gems and fossils, the subterraneous riches of nature, or things which are under the earth ; even all those objects, which my Theron lately contemplated, do, in their way, magnify the Lord Jesus. They bear witness to his power, as their Creator; they are subservient * Rev. iv. 5. t Rev. v. 9, 10. I Rev. v. 11, 12, 13. 2 LETTER VIII. 217 from the magnificence of his works, and the divinity of his person. to his interest, as our Mediator; and, in this manner, they glorify his sacred name. Under such views of the blessed Redeemer, en- larged and elevated even to astonishment, is it possi- ble to over-rate the worth of his mediatorial obedience? Is it possible to lay too much stress on his expiatory sacrifice, or ascribe too much efficacy to his vicarious righteousness ? To the honours which he receives, let us add the works which he has done. By these, in the days of his flesh, were displayed the greatness of his glory, and the might of his majesty. "Behold!" says the almighty Father; "my ser- vant," he who condescends to become my servant in the matchless work of redemption; " shall deal pru- dently," shall conduct himself with all the dignity and all the sanctity of wisdom. In consequence of which, " he shall be exalted, be extolled, and be very high."* The paraphrase of the Jewish commentators on this beautiful climax is, though inadequate, not contemptible. " The Messiah," they say, ** shall be higher than Abraham, more illustrious than Moses, and exalted above the angels of light, even above the prime ministers^ of heaven." What follows, is an attempt to render this exposition somewhat less defective. Here, could you open my chamber door, and peep upon your friend, you would find him in the same at- titude, and under- the same perplexity, which were formerly observed in Phocion. Sitting one day amidst an assembly of the people, and preparing to make a public oration, he appeared uncommonly thoughtful. Being asked the reason, " I am consi- dering," said he, " how I may shorten, what I shall have occasion to speak." The compass of my subject would demand many volumes; whereas the limits of my letter will allow but a few paragraphs. * Isa. lii. 13. t Prime ministers, this is almost a literal translation of their word*, VOL. II. 44, 2 K '218 ASPASIO TO THEKON. The meritorious excellency of Christ's righteousness illustrated, Our Lord gave sight to the blind. He poured day upon those hopeless and benighted eyes, which had never been visited with the least dawning ray. The dumb, at his command, found a ready tongue, and burst into songs of praise. The deaf were all ear, and listened to the joyful sound of salvation. The lame, lame from their very birth, threw aside their crutches, and, full of transport and exultation, leaped like the bounding roe.* He restored floridity and beauty to the flesh, emaciated by consuming sickness, or encrusted with a loathsome leprosy. All manner of diseases, though blended with the earliest seeds of life, and riveted in the constitution by a long invete- rate predominancy; diseases that baffled the skill of the physician, and mocked the force of medicine ; these he cured, not by tedious applications, but in the twinkling of an eye ; not by costly prescriptions, but by a word from his mouth, or a touch from his hand ; nay, by the fringe of his garment, or the bare act of his will. Any one of these miracles had been enough to en- dear the character, and eternize the memory of an- * We have the finest representation of this event, given us by the inspired historian, Acts iii. 8. " And he leaping up, stood, and walked, and entered with them into the temple ; walking, and leap- ing, and praising God." The very language seems to exult, in a redundant flow of expressive praises; just as a poor cripple, who never knew either the comfort of bodily vigour, or the pleasure of locomotion, may be supposed to do, when suddenly and unexpect- edly blessed with both. He would exert his new-acquired powers again and again ; first in one attitude, then in another ; sometimes to try, whether he was really healed, and not under the pleasing delu- sion of a dream ; sometimes from a transport of conscious delight, and to express the sallies of joy that sprung up in his heart. Though I acknowledge Mr. Pope's description to be extremely beautiful, The lame their crutch forego, And leap exulting like the bounding roe ; yet I cannot persuade myself, that it is to be compared with St. Luke's draught, either in the variety of figures ; in the richness of colouring ; .or in that exuberance of style, which, on this occasion, is so happily significant, and so perfectly picturesque. 14 LETTER VIII. 219 from the magnificence of bis works, and the divinity of his person. other person. But they were common things, matters of daily occurrence, with our divine Master. The years of his public ministry were an uninterrupted se- ries of such healing wonders; or, if any intermission took place, it was only to make way for more invalu- able miracles of spiritual beneficence. Behold him exercising his dominion over the vege- table creation. A fig-tree, adorned with the most promising spread of leaves, but unproductive of the expected fruit, withers away at his rebuke. It is not only stripped of its verdant honours, but dried up from the very roots,* and perishes for ever. A fearful, yet significant intimation of that final ruin, which will overtake the specious hypocrite; who, while lavish in outward profession, is destitute of in- ward piety. His eye pierced through the whole world of waters; discerned the fish that had just swallowed a piece of silver coin, and guided its course to Peter's hook.t Tis true, when the gatherers of the sacred tax came, to collect his share for the reparation of the temple, he had not a sufficiency of money to satisfy so small a demand ;J yet he takes occasion, from this most abject poverty, to manifest the immensity of his riches. He makes the great deep his revenue, and bids the scaly nations bring him their tribute. Never was such indigence associated with such magnificence! And never, never let us forget, that the indigence was ours, the magnificence all his own ! The waters themselves, it may be said, are far more unmanageable than their inhabitants. Who can control that outrageous element? which has de- * Mark xi. 20. t Matt. xvii. 27. How wonderful is this seemingly little miracle ! or rather, what a cluster of wonders is comprised in this simple act ! That any fish, with money in its mouth, should be catched ; with money just of such a value; and in the very first fish that offered itself! What a pregnant display of omniscience to know, of onmipo tence to over-rule, all these fortuitous incidents ! J About fourteen-peuce. 220 ASPASIO TO THERON. The meritorious excellency of Christ's righteousness illustrated, stroyed so many gallant fleets, with the armies they bore; and which would laugh at the opposition of the united world. The Lord Jesus walks upon its rolling surges,* and speaks its most tempestuous agitations into a calm. " The waters of the sea are mighty, and rage horribly; but yet the Lord, \vho loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, is mightier.f The winds are yet more ungovernable than the madding ocean. \Vhen these are hurled J abroad, to shatter the forests, and shake the shores, who can curb their rage? what can withstand their impetuo- sity? Even the boisterous winds hear the Saviour's voice ; and, as soon as they hear, obey. His voice, more powerful to restrain, than brazen dungeons to confine, chides the furious whirlwind. The furious whirlwind is awed into immediate silence. That which a moment ago heaved the billows to the clouds, * " He treadeth upon the waves of the sea," is one of the prero- gatives ascribed to the most high God, Job ix. 8. The original word VTQD signifies a sea that rolls mountain high ; and such, we have reason to suppose, were the waves on which our Lord walked ; since the vessel to which lie bent his course, was j3o