SERMON I.

ON REDEMPTION.

IT is a common, but certainly a very true observation, that the wishes and hopes of men are often very inconsiderate, and of such a nature that the Divine government, in its wisdom, cannot gratify them, and that a very small portion of happiness would fall to our share, if God were content with merely fulfilling our wishes. The fact is well known and requires no proof. But it is not the less true, that the benefits which Divine Providence really bestows on us, are seldom discerned in their full dimensions, and valued according to their actual worth. True as this two fold observation is, concerning the wishes which we entertain in respect of our earthly affairs and prosperity, and a multitude of Divine benefits, which we, on this account, are accustomed to call the unknown benefits of God; it is true also, of such as have reference to our higher and spiritual felicity, as those for which the Divine government is not less watchful and active, than for our temporal welfare. Amongst these spiritual blessings, for instance, there is none of greater magnitude, and of more inestimable value, than the Redemption which God has ordained through Jesus Christ. It was the greatest of all the benefits which the Jewish nation once implored of God, and it is the greatest which we Christians glory to have received from God: and this with the most perfect right. But the Jewish nation limited their desire almost entirely to a temporal deliverance; comprehended not, in its full extent, the blessing which God would impart to them through Jesus; and for the most part actually scorned it when offered to them, because it was not agreeable to their wishes. We Christians value the Redemption of Jesus higher; but I fear that even we sometimes limit it too much, and are desirous of its being such as, indeed, is scarcely possible. This appears to me, for example, to be the case with all those who confine it simply or chiefly to a deliverance from the penalties of sin, inasmuch as, according to the Holy Scripture and to truth, it extends much farther, and is in particular a deliverance from sin itself. I have, therefore, resolved to address you to-day on the right estimation of the redemption of Jesus. Our Gospel for the festival presents us with an unsought occasion, in the wishes and hopes of the disciples of Jesus. God only grant that we may form right notions, and thereby be led to a just estimation of it!

Luke xxiv. 21.

But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel.

WHEN the two disciples in our Gospel disclose their perplexity and dejection, on account of their Master’s unexpected fate, to Jesus, whom they did not then know, and at the same time confess, “But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel,” it is clear that they had not a true conception of the redemption which was to be effected, and which has been effected through Jesus. For they imagined its extent much too small, since they confined it to the Jewish nation alone, when they said, we trusted he should have redeemed Israel; whereas it was designed for the whole human race. Then again, they looked for a temporal redemption or deliverance, though the redemption of Jesus purported to be of quite a different kind, namely, a deliverance of the soul from sin, or a moral and spiritual redemption. I shall, therefore, take occasion to speak of the redemption, as it has actually been wrought through Jesus Christ. But I hope I shall best comprehend what appertains to the subject, if I dwell partly on that from which Christ has redeemed us, and partly on the condition under which this redemption may effectually avail us; and this, I trust, will lead the way to a very profitable application of my discourse.

In the first place then, from what has Christ redeemed mankind? There are three points in which this great work is contained, and in which it can be most clearly viewed. Christ has, namely, redeemed us; first, from all anxious and tormenting fear of God; secondly, from sin and its dominion; and thirdly, from the punishment of sin as its consequence, and from the apprehension of a future eternal condemnation.

In order to appreciate, in their full value, the greatness and beneficial effects of this redemption, and especially of the first branch of it, according to which Christ has delivered men from all anxious and tormenting fear of God, it is necessary for us to take a view of the mode of thinking of the age in which Jesus made his public appearance, and endeavour to recur to the then prevailing notions of God, which have, in a great measure, become strange to us, who are born and educated in Christendom, by means of the superior information which we have received from our youth up. At that period, the only correct and gladdening representation of God as the Father of men, and the truth that he is a gracious, benevolent, and forgiving Being, were almost entirely extirpated; and in their place the contrary idea was prevalent, that he is a severe inexorable ruler, who infallibly punishes the smallest offences, from whom no pardon was to be expected, unless his anger were appeased by bloody sacrifices, costly gifts, and self-inflicted tortures of various kinds. This terror was at that time general, nor is it much to be wondered at, being so natural to uninstructed man. Men commonly conceive of the Deity as they are themselves, and transfer the sentiments and modes of acting, which they perceive in themselves, to God. Now, since no man, if he would not deceive himself, can be insensible that he errs in a variety of ways, whether with wilfulness or from indiscretion, and thus transgresses the commandments of God; and since we men, when our injunctions are violated and an offence is committed against us, usually fall into anger and demand satisfaction; we ascribe similar affections of the mind to the Deity also; and because we feel that his displeasure and wrath can make us extremely miserable, we bethink ourselves of means to appease this wrath, and to reconcile the Deity. Far as these conceptions are from being entirely erroneous, certain as it rather is, that God is the most declared enemy of sin, and that he inevitably punishes and must punish it; yet the men of that age erred too much in their representation of the greatness and inflexibility of Divine wrath, and still more in the means which were chosen to avert it. Instead of striving to be convinced that God is not an inexorable Being, that he does not keep his anger for ever, and that he is disposed to pardon the man who draws near to him with repentant feelings and a resolution of amendment; they believed they must accumulate sacrifices, expiations, and penances of various kinds. This proved a very great and two-fold disadvantage. At one time this idea filled the minds of men with fear and trembling before God, as the strict, inexorable, never-to-be-reconciled Judge; the thought a him, that is, of the best, most perfect, and most gracious Being, which otherwise possesses such a cheering and animating power, lost this beneficial power entirely; and what was most melancholy, men were nevertheless not improved by this constant fear, exactly because they believed that sacrifices and gifts were sufficient to reconcile the Deity and appease his anger. The wisest of the writers in, the Old Testament had, indeed, already endeavoured. to soften this alarming representation of God, and to weaken their belief in the atoning power of sacrifices; but their persuasions were ineffectual. They had declared, “the Lord is full of compassion and mercy, long-suffering, plenteous in goodness and truth.” “He forgiveth iniquity and sin, he willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live.” Isaiah felt himself urged to call to the people, “To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me, saith the Lord? I am full of the burnt-offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; who hath required this at your land? Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes, cease to do evil, learn to do well

Isaiah i. 11.

But at last Jesus Christ appeared, and taught those truths more forcibly and clearly, exhibited the goodness of God in its full lustre, and sheaved that the only means of forgiveness were repentance and amendment. Thus he himself, and thus his Apostles instructed, and thus by his labours a Church was founded, in which more favourable notions of God prevailed, in which he was worshipped, not as a severe and wrathful judge, but as a kind forgiving Father; the members of which, when they assembled together, brought no offerings as a propitiation, but engaged themselves to an innocent course of life. In this manner. Jesus liberated the Christian world from the anxious fear of God, and from the most burdensome and unprofitable service. O, for ever let him be praised, that he has inspired us with trust in the pardoning grace of the Highest! For ever let him be praised, that we through his instruction rejoice in God, and no more tremble before him! Eternally let him be praised, that he has abolished sacrifices for ever, and taught us to offer up ourselves as a sacrifice to God! Thus he has established a real redemption; we now need no more offering for sin. Yet, my friends, Christ has delivered the Christian world not only from the anxious and tormenting fear of God, and from belief in the atoning power of sacrifices, but he has also, secondly, redeemed us from sin, and thereby from its penalties in the present and the future world.

But I must here obviate a misconception. This redemption from sin is not to be understood as if Jesus had taken away all sins, so that no more are to be found in the Christian world; for this would manifestly contradict daily experience. But his redemption consists rather in this, that he has made it possible to men to withdraw from the dominion of sin, having set forth to them the reasons for it, pointed out the means, and in general neglected nothing that would render deliverance from sin important and easy to them. So much is certain, that if man should be encouraged to escape from the trammels of sin, this cannot be more effectually done, than when sin is depicted to him in all its noxiousness, and on the other hand reformation and virtue in their advantages and rewards. So much is certain, that man cannot be rescued from the dominion of sin, so long as he is ignorant of its source, the manner in which it is originated, and the means whereby it may be prevented. So much is, lastly, certain, that man will not seldom grow weary in this contest against sin, if he may not promise himself a happy issue and the strength that is requisite, and if in this contest he has not an aim and a reward in his eye, the view of which invigorates him afresh.

But Jesus bas most completely satisfied all these wants by his instruction, and thus has made the most desirable redemption from sin possible. For this reason he taught, that it is only sin which renders men unhappy, and deprives them of the favour of God and of felicity; for this reason he assured them, that the forgiveness of God and deliverance from the penalties of sin, are not attached to propitiatory sacrifices, which never could possess this power, but to contrition and steady amendment, which alone are well-pleasing to God; for this reason he inculcated, that man must watch over his heart, consider this as the real source of sin, and suppress the rising lusts in their first movements, if he would prevent their bursting forth, and be secured from actual sins; for this reason he admonishes that we must diligently strengthen ourselves by good resolutions, and implore God for power to perform them, in the firm persuasion, that he who promotes all that is good, will least of all deny us his Spirit and the strength requisite for our improvement; and, that we may never grow weary in this zeal, be points out the great worth of a clean heart before God, and the rewards of eternity. This is the redemption from sin which Christ has actually instituted.

Once more; it is not then to be understood, as if he had so taken away all sins that no more remain in the world, nor as if he had made sin impossible to man, and the use of the means of improvement unnecessary. Nothing less than that; for the former would contradict the most evident experience, and the latter would be at variance with the freedom of the human soul, which it was not his design to abolish. But his redemption consists in this, that he has made it possible and of importance to man to be redeemed: and how could it be effected in rational creatures in any other way, without infringement on their liberty? Or how could he do it in a more effectual manner than by convincing them that sin would be productive of unhappiness, that it disturbs the conscience, that it robs us of the favour of God, that there are no offerings for its penalties, that repentance alone and steady amendment bring forgiveness and salvation? Does not amendment now become of greater importance to us, the more we desire pardon from God? Do not our own heart, and the wish not to be miserable, urge us to the most earnest self-improvement, and to a participation in this redemption? And does not Christ redeem every one from sin, who will suffer himself to be redeemed through him?

Lastly, my friends, the redemption of Jesus extends also to the penalties of sin. And this part of redemption he has doubly effected. Since, namely, he has assured the world of the gracious disposition of God, he has thereby delivered it from the apprehension of never-ceasing punishments; and since lie teaches us to avoid sin itself, he thereby delivers us also from its penalty. To comprise it in a few words, the redemption of Jesus amounts to this,—that he has exhibited God to us in his true and gladdening form, that he has inspired us with trust in his forgiving grace, that he has placed reformation and virtue in the room of sacrifices, and that he has shewn us the possibility of avoiding the dominion of sin, and consequently its temporal and eternal punishments. How great and inestimable is this benefit! If I had the liberty to choose for myself any happiness, could I wish for any greater than this redemption? than the consciousness of a merciful God before whom I need not tremble? than freedom from the bondage of sin? than a joyful prospect of a happy eternity? This, this is the redemption which Jesus has established! How much more comprehensive it is than that which the Jews and even the disciples of Jesus hoped for!

But now a question may be suggested, “Will then all men partake in this redemption?” The answer is, If they perform one condition; and this we will inquire into in the second part of our contemplation.

The redemption, my friends, is now completed. Every thing is done on God’s part. But what must man do on his side, in order to profit by this redemption? The short answer is, He must assist in redeeming himself. And this in fact is not so difficult. It is resolved mainly into two points, which we will shortly discuss. The first thing which a man must do; who really desires to be redeemed through Christ, is to believe the assurances of Jesus respecting the merciful and forgiving disposition of God, and to seek to convince himself more and more firmly of their truth. As long as man distrusts the goodness of God, or as long as he thinks he must be propitiated by any thing else than by amendment, so long certainly the redemption of Jesus from the tormenting fear of God cannot be of service to him. But how easy is this persuasion of the goodness of God! how ready the heart is to entertain it! what grounds for it present themselves on all sides! It is reasonable to believe, when I cast a glance at nature, that the God, who has every where diffused the most palpable marks of his enriching bounty, who has created the world to be the scene of his goodness, and men for the enjoyment of it, it is reasonable to believe, that this God has not destined any creature to eternal pains and never ceasing misery. It is not probable that he will aggravate the natural consequences of sin by arbitrary punishments, which are not designed for the improvement of man, but to render his wretchedness interminable; and that he will make man still more unhappy than he already is, through sin and its necessary consequences. And is it not probable, that God will at least be as kind as a human father is? But as the latter inflicts punishments only as salutary and correcting chastisements, and derives no pleasure from the suffering of his child, shall it not be so and much more with God? That my reason teaches me. The more I think of God in this manner, the more strongly I seek to be convinced of his goodness, and how far he is from feeling any malicious joy or delighting in vengeance, so much the more my heart listens to the instructions of Jesus, that with God there is mercy, and that “there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.” And if we would, therefore, facilitate the appropriation to ourselves of the atonement of Jesus, and be delivered through him from an anxious and painful fear of God; it is necessary that we open our hearts to these representations of the clemency and love of God; that we drive away from our souls the alarming images of a dreadful tyrant, and substitute in their place the lovely portrait of a benevolent and bountiful Father, such as nature exhibits him to us.

Should we then bring a heart so prepared to the instructions of Jesus and the holy Scripture, how easily shall we find it to be true, that God is merciful and compassionate, and that we require no oblations to propitiate him! How easily will Christ then accomplish in us that part of his redemption, which consists in a liberation from all disquieting and tormenting fear of God! That is the first condition which we must fulfil, if we really desire to be redeemed through Christ. And the second is this; if we, besides that fear of God, wish also to be delivered from the penalty of sin, we must necessarily be redeemed from sin itself. It is plain that it cannot be otherwise. Punishment is the consequence of sin, sin the cause of punishment. But is it possible that the consequence should cease, when the cause remains? Is it possible, that I should be released from a disorder, if I continue to commit the excess which generated the disorder? Is it possible that a man should be freed from punishment, when he repeats the same crime which subjected him to the punishment? Can the punishments or the chastisements of God cease, before the object of them, reformation, is attained? “Be not deceived,” I might say to such persons, “God is not mocked.” Do you think to be saved, because we are redeemed? Is Christ the minister of sin? Shall we sin for this reason, “that grace may abound?” Do we hope to escape future wrath, merely because we are called Christians? Should we not then evidently be in the same case as the Jews, who hoped to be exempted from punishment, because they had Abraham for their father? No, my friends, it remains an eternal, irrefutable truth, that whoever would escape punishment, must first renounce sin. The redemption of Jesus cannot else avail us.

This contemplation, my friends, is abundantly fruitful in profitable applications, if we will use it to this purpose. I will call your attention to a few of them.

In the first place it is manifest, that this redemption, which Christ has wrought for the human race, is a far greater and more salutary one, than that which the disciples of Jesus imagined and wished for. It is greater, because it is not confined to one people, but embraces all those nations to whom the Christian religion is known or shall hereafter be known. It is moreover greater, because it makes us perfectly free, free in the noblest sense of the word. For what is true liberty? wherein does it consist? Is he free who is oppressed by a tormenting fear of God, who is a slave to sin, who is ruled and led captive by vicious desires, whose conscience distresses him, who trembles at the thought of death, whom the future overwhelms with despair Or is he free who has trust in God, who is not afraid of himself, who can look forward to futurity with a calm aspect? Freedom from sin is the true freedom; and that is the freedom which Christ has given us. Thanksgiving, eternal thanksgiving be unto God, for that he has performed more through Christ, than Seven his disciples ventured to hope! They trusted he should have redeemed Israel; and he has redeemed a far greater portion of mankind. They feared their expectation was disappointed; and never was its fulfilment nearer.—Above all things, my friends, let us represent to ourselves the redemption as it really is, and not let ourselves be led away by the imagination that Christ has already redeemed us from the penalties of sin, whilst we are not yet freed from sin. I do not wonder that men are so corrupt as to adopt that part of redemption which favours their evil propensities, namely, faith, and that they are forgetful of that which is troublesome to them, namely, amendment. But ye, who so divide redemption, and flatter yourselves with such hopes, ye deceive yourselves, ye desire an impossibility. For, “if ye sin wilfully, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins

Heb. x. 26.

SERMON II.

CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATION OF DIVINE JUSTICE.

LORD, thou art righteous, and all thy judgments are just! Before thee, O most holy, and before thine all-searching look, the veil of dissimulation and hypocrisy, which human prudence so often throws over profligacy and crime, immediately drops; but oppressed and suffering virtue also, which, misunderstood and despised, is yet never weary of doing good, is encouraged in thy sight to the hope of a better world. Therefore the thought of thee, thou eternal and supreme Judge of the world of spirits, seizes at last the heedless and secure sinner, and fills him with horror and trembling, because of the futurity which awaits him; but, therefore also, the conviction of thy perfect justice rewards thy children with contentment and peace of mind, when they suffer wrong and persecution at the hands of men.

Father of all! let the importance of this consideration be ever present to us, that we also may be just towards our brethren; that we may learn willingly to endure wrong and suffering, because thou directest them to our benefit; that we may all, as thy children, look forward with joy in the hour of death to thy sentence, thou, who art the Judge of all the world!

It is a peculiar feature of the unperverted nature of man, my beloved, that it seeks to preserve the most exact and perfect balance between guilt and punishment, between merit and reward. We detest the judge with all our heart, who sells his judgment for gifts, who gives sentence for the vicious man, but is deaf to the voice of innocence defending itself in vain. On the contrary, we cannot deny our respect and high esteem to the man, who with upright and candid mind reprobates vice in the palace and in the cottage with equal impartiality, who entertains an equal regard for the moral worth of the rich and the poor. So unbounded, my friends, is our respect for a virtue, the conscientious practice of which must form the most exalted dignity and the fairest distinction of humanity. But, alas! the limitation of our powers, ignorance, covetousness, and insensibility, are the dangerous rocks, on which it is so often wrecked on this earth. We all, therefore, expect our sentence and the determination of our fate with silent submission from a superior Judge, whose all-scrutinizing view none of our most hidden virtues, none of our most secret faults can escape, and who penetrates with infinite knowledge into the inmost secrets of our hearts. The more we labour to become familiar with the legislation of the mightiest and wisest of all Judges, the more firmly we are persuaded, that he lets no virtue go unrewarded, no wickedness unpunished; the more correct our knowledge of the nature of his rewards and punishments is, so much the more unshaken will be our trust in him, so much the more ardent, disinterested, and pure our virtue, so much the more informed and fearless our mind, and so much the more lasting the happiness and contentment of our life.

No part of Scripture is better suited to instruct us with clearness and decision on this point than the text.

ROMANS ii. 6-12.

Who will render to every man according to his deeds: to them who by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life: but unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile; but glory, honour, and peace, to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile: for there is no respect of persons with God.

THIS important instruction of the Apostle will give us occasion to meditate on its true signification, and will employ us for the present hour in a Christian contemplation of divine justice. This contemplation is of two parts. First, God has connected essentially unalterable happiness with virtue, unalterable misery with vice. Secondly, God so guides the destinies of men, that the most perfect balance is preserved between their moral conduct and their real welfare.

1. There is no stronger and more expressive proof of our resemblance to God, and of the high destiny of our immortal spirit, than this, that the Eternal has given us a judge in our own conscience, which loudly condemns our misdeeds, and applauds only our righteous and honourable sentiments and actions. If this cannot by any means be corrupted, nor bribed by any flattery of a foolish self-conceit; then must the favour of the highest of all Judges be the most unchangeable and invariable, and we must, in the first place, take this view of his justice, that he has connected unfailing blessedness with virtue. Do we not ask, beloved, wherein this blessedness, inseparable from the real worth of our actions, consists? Where is there an earthly felicity to be compared with the satisfaction which the silent applause of our own hearts imparts to us after the conscientious performance of our duties? Speak yourselves, my brethren! ye, who with clean and guiltless hearts have borne all the toils of a laborious day with unwearied. zeal; ye, who have distributed to deserving indigence the superfluity which Providence gave you; ye, who have scattered the seeds of truth with intrepidity and prudence; and ye, who have improved your minds by sciences and arts to your own happiness and the good of your brethren, say, has ever a joyous gratification, has ever any voluptuous delight, equalled the purity and fulness of that heavenly pleasure, which penetrated your hearts at the thought of having fulfilled your duties to the utmost? In this contentment with ourselves, and in the consciousness that we have exercised and applied our powers in the most rational manner, lies an inexpressible reward of virtue. This high satisfaction in the soul of the virtuous is enhanced by the love and esteem, which are surely entertained for him in the hearts of all generous and good men.

Nothing, indeed, is more common, my beloved, than for the greatest part of mankind, (who, being themselves weak and deficient in moral worth, would gladly obtain some merit by pronouncing decisive judgments on others) to depreciate the most meritorious and most blameless actions, to defame the purest integrity, and to seek to expose it, under the most odious names, to misconception and calumny. But how much is the true friend of Christian virtue recompensed for these uncharitable judgments by the unfeigned approbation of generous and worthy men, who, after much experience, and affliction of various kinds, have learnt to value earthly goods according to their real worth, and who now fraternally share their heart and their affection with every true friend of religion and virtue! Thus, great is the reward of the pious,—to be esteemed by wise and sensible persons; but a superior, an unutterable felicity still awaits him,—the applause of his wise Creator and Father. To feel persuaded that one has fulfilled the commands of the Most Holy, to whom we owe our existence, our reason, our faculties, and our whole happiness; to know, that by disinterested, great, and noble actions we are brought nearer to his infinite holiness; that we, have become worthy of his grace, love, and fatherly care; and that we may now lay claim, through Jesus, to all the benefits to which his children are heirs; where is the mortal and the Christian, who must not find the supreme and most perfect good of his life in this conviction? Oh, my brethren, that every one amongst us possessed this glad sense in full efficiency; that every one of us could look up to his Father with filial confidence; that this blissful approbation of the most exalted and mightiest Judge were present to us all, and strengthened us to do good and not be weary, that we might reap without ceasing!

But the thoughts and aims of the human heart are sensual and evil from youth up; we are, therefore, 2dly, made sensible of the divine justice in another point of view, where it has connected unalterable misery with vice. Nothing has at all times, so long as men sought their highest enjoyments in sensual delights and earthly treasures, occasioned stronger objections and more unjust doubts of the guidance of Divine Providence, than the apparent prosperity of the wicked upon earth. Full of dejection and despondency, the innocent but suffering Job exclaims, “When I remember, I am afraid, and trembling taketh hold on my flesh. Wherefore do the wicked live, become old, yea, are mighty in power? Their seed is established in their sight with them, and their offspring before their eyes. Their houses are safe from fear, neither is the rod of God upon them.” And yet, my beloved, nothing is easier for the attentive observer, than to see the hand of Divine justice punishing vice even in the lap of riches and abundance. Cast a glance into the soul of the miser, who with insatiable covetousness scorns no means, by which he can increase his wealth and his treasures, who, inexorable and unfeeling, repels every suffering and necessitous man, banishes every sentiment of philanthropy from his breast, and inflicts pain upon himself, merely in order to feed his greedy eye on his prosperity; how is he harassed by a thousand cares, racked by unbridled desires, and tossed about by constant uneasiness! If we observe the voluptuous spendthrift, who invokes every thing which can gratify the senses and procure him the greatest variety of enjoyments; who leaves nothing untried in order to acquire power and consequence by means of a brilliant exterior; who willingly sacrifices his time and his property to intoxicating joys and the most varied diversions, in order to drink full draughts from the stream of pleasure; how wretched is he in those moments, when joy deserts him, when reason awakes from her dream, and when the mutability of his happiness appears in all its emptiness and nakedness! He may never want flatterers, companions of his pleasures, and mean persons, who from self- interest cringe before his greatness and splendour; he may always see himself surrounded by purchased eulogists; but the true and noble friend of virtue must shun him, must despise him, and openly manifest his displeasure and disgust. Therefore, “there is no peace to the wicked;” therefore do they hurry, unsteady and changeable, from one purpose to another, from one gratification, from one dissipation to another; therefore is their heart incessantly tormented by the pains of disappointed hopes, by the pangs of consuming passions, and by the reproaches of an offended conscience. And when the profligate, in this disturbed state, this insecurity of mind, begins to think of the Judge, who will one day demand an account of every, even the least of our actions, who will bring all our deeds to trial, and give sentence according to the holiest laws; then shame and remorse seize him, then he curses the fugitive joys, which he at other times had so eagerly sought for; then he languishes on the brink of despair for rest, and finds it not. He would gladly hide himself from the judgment of the Most Holy, who views every impurity of his heart with the eye of omniscience; but he is forced to cry out with David, “Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee, but the night shineth as the day, the darkness and the light are both alike to thee

Psalm cxxxix.

If we raise our ideas, my beloved, from man, whose life is a breath, up to the Eternal, we find that his unbounded holiness must be identified with the most unutterable blessedness, because his supreme intelligence cannot design or imagine any law, with which the infinite effects of the most sovereign power would not at once correspond. Were it possible that human virtue also could be so thoroughly perfected, so pure and spotless, then would the good man be sufficient of himself for his happiness, he would scorn every external benefit as a foreign reward, and would feel himself invariably blest in the consciousness of his own perfection; but so exalted and pure a virtue is not the lot of the finite rational world; and man, who, notwithstanding the most conscientious endeavours after holiness and goodness of heart, is so often depressed by the most distressing sensation of his infirmities and defects, must, when thinking of God, feel but too deeply, that we are all sinners who are not yet worthy of the full favour of God. Now, in order that human virtue, which has to struggle in its weakness with so many and wearisome impediments, may not want outward encouragement to press on with increasing spirit in the path of duty, Divine justice ordains; first, that in regard to the worthy worshipper of God and Christ, the thought of his inward goodness and his real moral worth shall be supported on this earth by rewards of sense: think not, my friends, of such rewards and prizes, as are appropriated to distinguished actions by legislators and princes, rewards which an indefatigable and restless ambition so often carries off, instead of silent and modest merit. Is not the whole wide earth full of God’s good things, and is not every thing. reward which we enjoy from his bounty? If but a pure and guiltless heart beats within our breast, if the applause of the inward judge but gives us a real satisfaction with ourselves, O, then, no good thing is so small, no enjoyment so poor and simple, that it may not exhilarate us, and fill us with the purest pleasure; then the indigent inhabitant of a lowly, but is happier than the possessor of a splendid palace who is loaded with sins. For this reason the sincere friend of virtue rejoices in a sound and vigorous state of health, vouchsafed him by his heavenly Father, enjoys it gratefully as a gift from his hand, and feels happy in this valuable reward of his integrity. For this reason he welcomes the blessing of Providence, when, by worldly possessions and prosperity, consequently by outward agreeable sensations, it reminds him of this goodness of heart, which now heightens every pleasure, and converts every permitted enjoyment of sense into the purest and highest gratification. For this reason he thankfully blesses the period when outward dignities and posts of honour are allotted to him, because he can now act with greater freedom, do good more extensively, and promote, with less hindrance, truth, order, and tranquillity amongst his brethren. Thus delightful and unfailing are the rewards which Divine justice has appointed for the good man while yet on earth, because the exact proportion of happiness and well-being to virtue is the sublime object to which all finite spirits should aspire; Providence, therefore, guides the destinies of men in such a manner, that, secondly, the vicious man’s thoughts on his immorality are also kept up by outward unpleasant sensations. The wicked have no peace, but even their prosperity is unstable and mutable. So true is that which a wise man says in the book of Job: “The triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of the hypocrite but for a moment. Though his excellency mount up to the heavens; and his head reach unto the clouds, yet he shall perish for ever. They which have seen him shall say, Where is he? He shall fly away as a dream and shall not be found, yea, he shall be chased away as a vision of the night.”

If the generous and honest friend of virtue acknowledges the hand of Providence in all the events and occurrences of this life, which bestows more or fewer benefits on mortals, as their deserts and their destination for eternity may require; in like manner the vicious man sees in every trouble that falls on him, and in every distress he meets with, the wrath of an avenging Deity. The same. unsteadiness of his principles, the same restlessness in his mind, which formerly abandoned him to the wild gratification of intoxicating pleasures, now sinks him, under the least adversity, into dejected lamentation and desponding anxiety. Does fate hurl him down from the pinnacle of honour, fame, and prosperity, to which he had elevated himself by the depression of real merit, by intrigues and artifices? O, then his humiliation becomes an intolerable anguish to him, then he is too weak to meet the contempt of his adversaries with courage and fortitude, then the tortures of a deeply wounded pride, and the unsatisfied demands of a boundless self-love, embitter every moment of his disquieted existence. Does the rich villain, who knows no greater good than his dishonestly acquired treasures, experience, like others, the vicissitudes of worldly fortune; do rapid floods, or raging flames, or sudden public calamity lay waste his magnificent dwelling? at the loss of his possessions, his heart also fails him, and, full of agony and terror, he trembles under the deeply piercing strokes of misfortune. But the retributive justice of God appears on no occasion more awful and alarming to the wicked, than at the thought of the approach of unexpected death. The hopes of a secure life and undecaying health, to which self-love could formerly fix no limits, now give way; now the building of earthly happiness, in which the sinner promised himself so long a residence, falls in; now comfort and rest are no where to be found, but in the consciousness of a clean and virtuous heart. And in this poverty and nakedness of his mind shall he, at the period, when his body, near its dissolution, must fight the hard fight of death, enter into thoughts on futurity, from which he has to expect the sentence of an eternal and righteous Judge on all his actions? Who amongst us all, my beloved, does not discern in this indescribable agony and fear of the dying sinner, the irrevocable judgement of divine holiness on the iniquity of vice? We think not in this Case of trust in Divine mercy and goodness, and of the merits of our Redeemer, who died for the good of mankind, by averting from them apprehended punishments. These blissful doctrines are full of refreshing consolation for all those, who, having their attention drawn by the religion of Jesus to the destructive nature of vice, have returned to the path of virtue, and now find comfort respecting the offences of past days in the death of our Divine Teacher and Friend. But the sinner already does unspeakable penance in this, that, according to the same principles which he has hitherto followed in his actions, lie dreads his Creator and Father as a severe and passionate Judge; that he considers all the sorrows and disasters which come upon him, as the immediate punishments of God; and that, like a child which disobeys the commands of a wise and affectionate father, he enjoys his favours under the loud reproaches of his conscience, and with a mortifying sense of his unworthiness. This dejection and fear of the just chastisements of God will never entirely leave the most abandoned and sensual offender, even in the utmost apparent prosperity; and could it even leave him, Divine justice, thirdly, so directs the destinies of men, that the apparent worldly success of the wicked, and the undeserved afflictions of the virtuous, become a beneficial source of the firmest conviction of a blessed immortality, a source, therefore, of the most exhilarating hope for the Christian sufferer. Nothing is more common, my friends, than that, when a successful profligate raises himself above his weaker brethren, or a guiltless Job sinks under the weight of his sorrows, we wrong Divine justice, and frequently break out into loud murmurs against Providence, for the unequal distribution of human destinies. “Is it justice,” the censurer of Providence exclaims, “when whole nations groan under the tyranny of profligate rulers; when violence and iniquity heap crime upon crime; when extensive devastations and wars expose the virtuous as well as the wicked to the utmost misery; and when flattery and frivolity so often wear the crown, of which active and modest merit is deprived?” So unreasonable are the doubts and complaints, in which the finite being indulges, respecting the wisdom and holiness of the Infinite; as if he knew whether the virtue which externally shines so brightly, is internally also pure and spot, less; and whether the vice, which he so unconditionally condemns, has not some unobserved moral qualities by its side. But supposing, beloved, that the censurer of Providence judged correctly in this case, and that he had seen vice really happy, and virtue really unhappy; are not the sufferings of the good man, whatever he loses on this earth, rewards for eternity? Let merit be always approved here below; let every wickedness be immediately followed by deserved punishment; let the most perfect balance be ever held between the moral goodness and the welfare of men; where would then, O mortal, be the endless object of thy destination! where thy hope of immortality, and of a better and blissful futurity? where the strength and elasticity of thy mind, with which thou overcamest the greatest obstacles and adversities? It is only the trials and troubles of this life, which form a great and good man, who has the firmness, even in death, to forgive those who have injured him; it is only silent meditations on the decay of this world’s goods, which elevate the mind to the exhilarating prospect of a better world; it is only through calamities and sorrows that the hope of a blessed immortality is matured in our hearts into that cheering conviction, which to sensual fools is an unknown jewel.

Let, therefore, all directing Providence be praised for all the unexpected events and misfortunes, which with wise and gracious hand it has interwoven with human destinies; we discern, therefore, even in its incomprehensible dispensations, the tie with which it binds us and our hopes to a superior world; let then no doubt and no selfish weakness rob us of this consolatory truth, “Lord thou art righteous, and all thy judgments are just.”

O that these considerations might avail, my friends, in leading us to just notions of the nature of Divine rewards and punishments, and in filling all our hearts with filial reverence for the Most Holy, the Almighty Lawgiver and Judge! May the testimony of an unpolluted conscience be able to deliver us all from that anxious fear of Divine vengeance, which is an inseparable companion of sin and vice; for “Fear,” says St. John, “hath torment, and he that feareth is not made perfect in love;” but love which is perfected by Christian virtue, knoweth no fear, but rejoices, through Jesus and the merits of his teaching and his death, in the mercy of a holy and all-bountiful Father. What a great and enlivening thought, beloved! Thus then we languish no more under the burden of a hard and terrifying law, which resented every transgression with severe and tormenting punishments; thus we shudder no more at the terrors of death; thus we feel blest in the freedom of our immortal spirit, through that religion which brings us unto salvation by faith, hope, and love; thus the voice of our heart calls upon us all to “live soberly, righteously, and godly,” that we may be the children of God. Let the sinner then awake from the giddiness of error and passion, which despoiled him of his dignity, bound his mind in fetters, and exposed him to the contempt of his heart and perpetual uneasiness. Let, therefore, the pious and good man unweariedly seek the attainment of his grand aim, and find peace with himself, the favour of his Divine Father and Friend, and the enduring and richest reward of persevering virtue. May a heart full of love and zeal for Christian perfection, entitle us all to the delightful hope, that we and all, who rejoice in immortal life, through Jesus, may hereafter be adorned with the crown of virtue, which God the righteous Judge shall give us at that day.

SERMON III.

ON THE ABUSE AND NEGLECT OF PRAYER.

WHEN, in the sacred hours of devotion, our mind is uplifted to thee, thou God of love! and when the heart is blest in drawing near to thee then we feel most sensibly the high privilege of the Christian, to whom thou art Father, and the greatness of man, who may venture to address thee, although he is but dust and earth. We are thine, and thereby the entrance to all the riches of thy grace stands open to us, and the child rests glad and secure in a Father’s arms. Joy, and trust, and faith, and hope, and strength, and courage, take possession of our hearts, and in evil as well as good days, we are contented, because we belong to thee. O, let us never forget thee, and let us seek in thy presence that pure and lasting joy, which the world cannot give. Teach us to pray with devotion and faith, and make our hearts susceptible of that bliss, which a pious intercourse with thee imparts. Without thee there is no peace, and the soul wearies itself in the chase of worldly delusions. Thou alone canst appease its thirst; mayest thou fully satisfy it, here and in eternity! Rest on us thy spirit of strength and of prayer; even now we supplicate thee for it, as Jesus has taught us: Our Father, &c.

Matt. vi. 5, 6.

And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they nay be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, they have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou host shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.

ACKNOWLEDGE, my friends, in this direction for the right performance of a sacred Christian duty the superiority of the religion of Jesus, which removes all affectation of sanctity, all hypocrisy, and all pernicious superstition from our intercourse with God, and makes prayer the filial effusion of a pious, grateful,. and confiding soul. If it is undeniable, that this elevation of the heart to the Supreme Being must become a necessity to every thinking and feeling creature, which not even the most thoughtless and dissolute can always dispense with; if the slightest conception has ever been entertained of the blessing which attends such hours of devotion; it must appear incomprehensible, that what was most to be venerated, and conferred such blessings, should degenerate into idle ceremony; and that the expression of the holiest feelings should ever be exchanged for words uttered without thought, which deadens the mind and leaves the heart empty and cold. And yet our Redeemer found this abuse of what is most sacred general amongst his people. They had degraded prayer into a court-service, and thought to honour God, when they repeated words before him without consideration, and often and loudly addressed him, whilst they were far from him in heart and mind. They had converted their devotion into a trade, and prayed at the corners of the streets in order to be seen of men; that they might pass for pious, though their hearts were unclean and evil. They made many words, like the heathen, that they might without piety and faith, and merely through the charm of prayer, draw down heaven upon earth, bend the will of the Eternal, and extort his blessings; but as to the proper intercourse of a reverential soul with God, few amongst his contemporaries had any clear sense of it or any taste for it. The pious Man then taught men to pray, and opened to them therewith a new fountain of pure felicity, which hitherto had flowed copiously but for few. This is his merit, that he taught us to know the Father, and imparted to us a filial reverence of him, and only by these means was man qualified for prayer, and made capable of its blessings. As long, my friends, as love of the world, indolence, and religious indifference, prevent thousands from performing this sacred duty; as long as one portion of Christians is ashamed of intercourse with God, or asserts it to be useless and a waste of time, and another with gross superstition considers prayer as rendering a service to God, and as a secret influence for biassing eternal destiny; as long as others with vile hypocrisy profane what is most sacred, and carry on a sordid trade with their sanctimonious manners; so long are the instructions and warnings of Jesus not superfluous, and meditation thereon may still be highly fruitful in disseminating a pure worship of God, and a genuine religious temper. And this determines us to call your attention to-day to two equally important defects, and to discourse at present on the abuse, and the neglect, of prayer.

When man discerns in the appearances of the visible world the eternal, invisible, creating Spirit, which animates and fills all things, and whose breath pervades the whole creation; when he perceives his power and wisdom and goodness in the smallest as in the greatest of his works, and does homage to the Exalted One, whom no eye can behold and no thought can reach; when every thing around him points to a hidden first Cause, and the mind which thinks within him makes him sensible of his descent from this ineffable Being; then holy feelings are awakened in his breast, with high animation he utters the name of the Creator of worlds.—He, he alone, fills his whole soul, and his mute delight becomes a prayer, with which he praises that glorious Being, whose honour the heavens declare, and whose wonders the whole earth proclaims. At one time this holy feeling pours itself forth in loud hymns; at another it remains speechless, confined in the breast, the tongue devoid of utterance, and becomes the silent adoration of the soul in spirit and in truth. When man has a lively feeling of his dependence on this exalted Being, when he acknowledges his own impotency, and must be sensible that he is but dust which God’s breath animates during his pleasure; when with all his efforts he cannot add one cubit to his stature, nor secure one hair on his head, and receives and must expect all that he has and stands in need of from the hand of the Lord of nature; then he prostrates himself before the Mighty One, who creates and destroys, who gives and takes away, who orders the whole destiny of man, his prosperity and adversity, and brings the thanksgiving and the wishes of his heart before him who knoweth the heart, and stammers out his petitions for the manifold gifts of life to him, who rules over inexhaustible abundance—the sense of his weaknesses and his wants inclines the soul to lift itself devoutly to God, and prays! When man feels the iron stroke Of fate, and vainly contends against the hidden power, to which kings as well as beggars are subject; when he struggles with severe trials and sorrows, and in the night of misfortune beholds no guiding star enlightening his path till the coming of a brighter day; then he pours out his lamentation before the Lord of fate, and implores consolation and help from the Mighty One, from whom help must come; he prays in anguish of soul; and faith and trust, peace and hope, return into the mournful heart. The exigencies of life lead the way to devout, indefatigable prayer; when calamity assails a man, he seeks God, and, when he chastises, cries to him in his agony. Is it not then incontrovertible, my friends, that prayer is as much a necessity for man, as it is the duty of a rational creature towards the Creator? Every reflection on God and nature and ourselves involuntarily raises the soul to him; every remembrance of our limited faculties and weakness leads us to him; every earthly want bears us from earth to the heaven above, where dwells our help, and every wish of the heart seeks to be expressed before Him, who can satisfy the wishes of the heart. And whoever has not in his own life felt any incitement to prayer, verily, he has renounced his rational nature, and lives like the beast, without the most distant idea of his superior dignity and his nobler calling. Must it not then surprise us that there can be any persons, who have so little sense of holy things, that they profane these blissful outpourings of the heart to God, and convert prayer into an idle babbling; which gives the lie to devotion; who put on the semblance of godliness, whose power they deny? Men, who go forth with pious mien, and pray at the corners of the streets, with the crafty intention of being seen and praised, or who think that prayer is a service which must be agreeable to the Eternal, even when the heart has no participation in it, and knows not what the mouth speaks! Or those who ascribe a secret power to a multitude of words and the frequent repetitions of studied forms, and fancy they can give the law to heaven and turn fate by the charm of prayers uttered without devotion and without sense!

And yet there are hypocrites and superstitious persons in abundance, who know not the blessedness of a pious intercourse with God, and do not feel its necessity, and who exercise a mere trade with their affected sanctity; who would either deceive men, or prevail upon the Eternal to reward their thoughtless worship, and whose hearts are incapable of that sensibility, which true devotion must produce. “I tell you,” says Jesus, “they have their reward.’ ” They defraud themselves of the happiest hours of life, and of the sublimest feelings of which the mortal breast is capable.

Yet, perhaps, the number of those is still greater who do not consider it worth the trouble to deceive the world, and who entirely neglect and scorn prayer. The spirit of the time may be changed, but its fruit is not more gratifying than that of earlier ages. In the place of the abuse which was practised in prayer, an aversion from prayer has crept in amongst us, and superstition and hypocrisy are supplanted, not by the spirit of a purer sense of religion, but by levity and forgetfulness of God. Look into Christian families around you, look to yourselves and your nearest acquaintances. Where is that pious disposition of our fathers, which began and ended every thing with God? How many still think of making a quiet intercourse with him their most important and daily occupation, and of preparing themselves by devotion for the most decisive steps and the most momentous undertakings of their lives? How many can yet say with David, “It is good for me to hold me fast by God, to put my trust in the Lord God'?” “Have I not remembered thee in my bed, and thought upon thee when I was waking?” We are become strange to him, and he to us: we fancy ourselves gods who do not need his aid; we ourselves create and govern, and imagine ourselves to be supreme. We emerge from the arms of sleep, and lay ourselves down to rest, we enjoy the gifts of the earth, and take the blessings of fortune, and no eye looks gratefully, no hand is raised adoringly, towards heaven. We often hear prayer in the church, or at solemnities, or at the table supplied for our use, and we are ashamed so much as to clasp the hands before God; we act the part of absent men, and pity those weak persons, who are not yet able to break loose from the antiquated custom. We educate our children in all knowledge worth acquiring—the art of praying we hold unnecessary for them, and a generation grows up, to whom the first thing, which used formerly to be entrusted to the young soul to keep, remains unknown; and it is no exaggeration when I assert, that hundreds of adult Christians do not know nor understand even the prayer which Jesus taught his disciples. Thus we giddily proceed through life without God, and when at length his hand lies heavy upon us, and calamity reminds us of his existence and his power, then we have forgotten how to draw near to him; we are become strangers in our Father’s house, love and faith and trust have departed from us, and we are alone with our pain, and without comfort, on the day of affliction.

Friends, if this is to be the fruit of our superior information, O then let us wish back again the times of pious simplicity and an unsophisticated fear of God; the world was then happier, and richer in nobleness of mind than in the enjoyments of life. The wisdom in which we pride ourselves does not replace that peace-inspiring belief in a higher Being, who is a Father to us, and the independence of which we boast, does not render us so happy as the feeling that we belong to the Lord of Spirits, who accepts and guides with love those who come to him with love and a clean heart. O, ye know not what delights ye rob yourselves of, when ye shun acquaintance with the holy and gracious One, who ought to be all things to you! In the stillness of solitude the mina collects itself to more serious thoughts and to holy feelings; it is then nearer to that Being who fills all in all, and is blest in this proximity. Then is the soul elevated to God, the restless turmoil of earth and its low occupations disappear before the Eternal, and man looks on himself as a citizen of a higher world. Then faith and love and hope bear him on the wings of devotion to God above, and a heaven opens to the enraptured sight. Then confidence gives utterance to our wishes, and heavy distress is poured out before the Father in meek lamentation, and the heart beats with more ease and tranquillity. Then composure and consolation flow into sorrowing souls, and we collect fortitude from these hours to bear the anxieties of life, and God’s strength proves mighty in the weak. Then we learn worthily to wage the hot conflict of life, and remain conquerors even in death. In every thing we triumph, for “Faith is the victory which overcometh the world

1 John v. 4.

To observe the history of the world as a continued judgment of the world, is a serious contemplation: but by means of viewing it in this light it acquires a religious character, so that we see in it not merely a spectacle of changing forms and appearances, but a manifestation of God; and though his finger is not always clearly to be perceived, yet we may every where be sensible of his rule and superintendence. And however grave and serious this consideration may be, yet it is at the same time consolatory, for this judicial visitation is also a purification of the world, so that not only the justice but also the goodness of God is revealed in it. God does not destroy the kingdoms which have been aggrandised by conquest and robbery, with this intent only, that they may crumble into ruins, but that it may be made manifest to the world, that every work of unrighteousness bears the germ of destruction within itself: he does not give up indolent and effeminate nations to the yoke of slavery, that they may wear perpetual chains, but that they should learn under oppression to be conscious of their strength, and raise themselves again with vigour and courage: discord and confusion are not spread through the people, who scorned what was just and sacred, that they may exterminate each other in endless civil wars, but that they may reform and return to God and to a regard for rectitude. The judging is also the cleansing of the world; and now a consolatory view of the history of the world is opened to us, for we trace through its dark paths the steps of him, who bears the sword in his right hand, but the palm-branch in his left, who can indeed strike, but also heal, and turn mourning into joy.

To preserve the belief, that the world is purified through God’s judgments, is, further, important on this account, because it exercises, especially in times when the government of Divine justice is more obviously apparent, an awakening and consoling influence on our hearts. Both the solemnity of the Lord in judgment, and the love of the Father cleansing the sinful world, must, when the judgment of God is revealed on us and our contemporaries, lead us to reflection, and from that to repentance, and from repentance to amendment. Every one shares, more or less, in the general guilt; we must, therefore, all bow in humility and contrition before the Mighty One, when he executeth judgment. No one is clean; it is incumbent, therefore, on every one, when he sees the visitation gone forth in the age in which he lives, to rise and meet God who would draw men to him by his visitations, and open his heart, that he also may be cleansed and purified, to that grace, which does not always descend as gentle dew, but sometimes as the fire of lightning.

Forget not then, my friends, the call of Divine, grace, recently emitted from tempestuous clouds; and keep the vows you made to God in the days of distress. The Divine judgment is a rousing from the sleep of sin; and happy are all they, who awake and stand up, and turn from levity and folly to serious wisdom, from luxury and licentiousness to pure morals, from selfishness and injustice to strict integrity and sympathizing charity, from a vain love of the world to that faith, which teaches us to overcome the world. And when the judgment of God leads to your sanctification, then, my friends, then you will feel the consoling power of the belief, that it is a purification of the sinful world. For then you will be certain through your own experience, that calamity sent from God has an object; and your conviction, that all the ways of God are wisdom and goodness, will rest on the surest grounds; so that you will be able to contemplate disastrous occurrences, if not without tears, yet without immoderate lamentation, and to support with courage and composure, whatever the time of visitation may compel you to bear.

It is, lastly, of advantage to maintain the belief that the world is purified through God’s judgments, because it leads us to expect the maturing to perfection of our species. However often the goldsmith melts the metal and repeats the refinement; his end is at length attained, the silver lies before him, pure and spotless, clear and bright as crystal or the dew-drop sparkling in the morning sun. In like manner must the design of God with respect to our race be finally accomplished. Long as the trial may last, often as the purification may be repeated, the day must come at length, when man unspotted and clean, freed from sin, and glorified, shall stand before his Maker and Fashioner. We are the children of God, but alas! have departed from the Father, and wandered abroad. Yet we are not for ever parted from home; we shall once again return and find our Father’s house. Our souls are shapes of light proceeding from the source of all life and light. But their light is no longer the pure light of heaven; they are obscured by the shadows of earth, clouded by sin and error. Yet the obscurity will not last for ever, the shadows will pass away, the dimness will gradually disappear, and at last they will return to God in the same brightness, in which they at first proceeded from him.

All things are from God, and all went forth from him pure and good, for “God saw every thing that he had made, and behold, it was very good;” all things return to God, for “in him and through him and to him are all things;” every thing, therefore, will be perfected again in its original purity and goodness. The design of cleansing, is purification; the end of enlightening, is admission to glory; home is the ultimate aim of the wanderer. Yes, God conducts our species to a final consummation; a time is coming, in which there will be no more error, no hatred, no sin, no pain, and no death; when all will become light and glory, love and life, peace and bliss. This is the time to which the saying of the Apostle refers; “So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” Amen.

SERMON VI.

THE SOULS OF THE DEAD NOT PERMITTED TO REVISIT THE EARTH.

MAN sees but the present clearly and distinctly; obscure is the past, concealed from him the future. The images of what has past in our own life fade away more and more every year, and one object after another recedes from the light of certainty into the twilight of uncertainty, which is spread over all former time, and is lost in thick darkness at the point where our consciousness, for the first time, like a ray of light, illumined our being. More hidden from us than the past is the future. Human sagacity, indeed, foresees some few things, but this is but as a drop in the stream of future events, and all foresight ends at the grave. Beyond this all is veiled from us in the deepest obscurity. We shall continue to be, we shall receive retribution: so much we know. But no human eye penetrates into the mysterious land of reward, and never, never has it been permitted to any deceased being to return to this life, and inform us of things beyond the grave. For all which credulity or superstition has not seldom related of apparitions of the dead, has been found, on examination, either a fraud or illusion. Fruitless too has it been, when friends have entered into an agreement, that whichever of them died first, would appear again to the other, or would, at least, give him a visible proof of his being still in existence: for such a reappearance has never resulted; the kingdom of the dead is firmly closed, and no mortal ever breaks its mysterious seal. But unbelief seizes on this with eagerness; on this account it triumphs and laughs at the hope of the believer, as a pleasant, but groundless delusion. Every thing which reason, every thing which religion offers, of power to elevate the soul to the hope of immortality, it thinks to confound with a single word. It says openly, that if there were an immortality, one of the dead must some time appear again upon earth; and it declares undisguisedly, that it will hold the expectation of immortality to be an idle hope, until one of the dead shall have risen and returned into the land of the living. The virtuous also and believer, cannot sometimes refrain from wishing, that the departed might again appear to the living, and by their presence and their assurance might make them certain of an immortality, and instruct them as to the nature of the life after death. They flatter themselves, that unbelief would thereby be fully confuted, every doubt overcome, the necessity of a virtuous life incontrovertibly demonstrated, and a general improvement of the human race infallibly effected. This was also the hope which the rich man, in the instructive story of this day’s Gospel, entertained. But Jesus contradicted it, and gave the assurance, that unbelievers would not believe, and the vicious would not become virtuous, even if the dead could and might reappear and preach amendment. To convince you of this, you will, perhaps, my friends, think it difficult. You still, perhaps, believe, that such appearances must produce a great effect. But, in truth, neither more faith nor more virtue would, on this account, be found amongst men. Let us now consider further on this subject, and for the strengthening of our faith, and to invalidate so common an objection against immortality, let us endeavour to be persuaded of the truth of the assurance of Jesus.

Luke xvi. 31.

And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.

THE narrative of Jesus concluding with these words is one of the most instructive to be found in Scripture. It pourtrays a luxurious rich man, who entirely surrendered himself to sensual enjoyment, and followed the principle, “eat, drink, and be merry, for death puts an end to all things,” but who after death found it quite different from what he had expected. He had five brethren as dissolute as himself, and abandoned to the same fallacious opinions. He intreated that Lazarus might be sent to them to testify, that is, to bear witness to them, by his presence and information, of the continued duration of the human soul, and the recompence of good and evil, that they might amend their lives. For he hoped that they would be so much struck by the reappearing of the deceased Lazarus, or some other from the dead, that they would reform and believe in eternity. Yet Jesus assures us, that this desire never can be gratified, and that if it could, it would be of no use. There are, doubtless, not a few, who wish that such a reappearance of the dead might be possible, and who believe, that it must have the most important consequences in the improvement of men, and in confounding unbelief. Why then has God not permitted the souls of the dead to appear again to the living, in order to place the immortality of the soul beyond all doubt? Our Gospel sets forth three reasons why God does not allow this, since Jesus declares it to be, first, impossible; secondly, quite superfluous; and thirdly, useless, even if it did take place.

SERMON VII.

ON BELIEF IN IMMORTALITY.

To all who depart hence as good men, the morning of a better state of being, of light, and of freedom, dawns on the other side of the grave. If we shall have faithfully finished our course, then it will be well for us in the evening of our pilgrimage! The good man wearied expires calmly, while he believes that he shall awake with new strength for immortality. Good is it for us, when once our eyes are closed from the charms of this earth; then we behold the greater wonders of eternal love in a fairer region. Good for us, when we have gone through the conflict of the hours of trial; the tears of sorrow flow not in the abodes of peace. Happy we, when we escape from the Blooms of this life, there brightness awaits us, there we find what we so earnestly longed for here below, truth and freedom, freedom from the infirmities which here oppressed us. Yes, there we shall be nearer thee, O exalted Being, to whom we here uplift ourselves with holy desire. We adore thee with thanksgiving, O Father, who hest given us the bliss of this faith, hast planted it in our souls never to be extirpated, and confirmed it to us through Jesus Christ. We supplicate thee with peaceful confidence; ah, strengthen us, that we may pursue the way to heaven, that our path of life may end serenely, that soft repose may overshadow us, when once the sun of our life sinks, that we may breathe our last with joy in the faith of immortality! Amen.

1 Cor. xv. 19, 20.

If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept.

WHOEVER solemnises, with cordial participation and religious sentiments the two important festivals of the termination of the life of Jesus and his reanimation, experiences a gentle transition from sad melancholy feelings to bright, animating, and joyful sensations. Transported from the field of death, he now sees himself on the theatre of life, where sublime hopes, and prospects of infinity; fill his heart with joy, and he embraces the doctrines of religion with holy thanksgiving. The moment of thy parting from the earth is a regeneration to life, an awaking in a clear morning, an arrival in a lovelier country, a passing into bliss. Pain and joy, common in thy life-time, affect tine for the last time in death; the last convulsion of thy corporeal covering shakes them off, and opens the way to the spirit for a free upward, flight. A few days since we were assembled for the serious and mournful celebration of death; to-day it is the festival of immortality which we here celebrate with songs of praise. Then we saw virtue glorified by the sufferings of that noble Being, who was true to virtue in a state of trial; now we think of the faithful perseverance rewarded, the spirit liberated. from its oppressive confinement, his holy desire satisfied in a better world, his faith crowned, his hope confirmed. “Christ is become the first-fruits of them that slept.” As he awoke again to dwell for a short time in earthly existence, so do we awake to a heavenly life, when once our eye is finally closed; so does this life, full of toil and conflict, end in triumph; so does the last moment appease the longing of the weary for liberty; so does he pass from the circle of his weeping friends into the circle of them that receive him with hymns of joy. O, if we had not this high belief, how dark would human life be! what an enigma the destiny of man! How devoid of developement, satisfaction, and achievement, the knowledge of mortals, their search after truth, their aspiration for improvement! how hopeless the condition of many a sufferer, how fearful the evening of life, how terrible in its approach the night of death! Did religion, says the Apostle, open to is no prospect into a more perfect and blessed state, how wretched should we be! Yes, the belief in immortality is a great, universal, and deeply felt, a real, not to be suppressed exigency of the human heart! It rests, not to be eradicated, in our inward breast; it maintains itself against all attacks of doubt. He too, who led astray, to his misfortune, has allowed this belief to be shaken, feels yet a longing for a firmer hope, painfully feels how much serenity, moral strength, comfort, and peace he loses by his doubts. Let us in this sacred hour contemplate the belief in immortality with this view; let us unfold our feelings, our perhaps yet gloomy feelings; let us thus worthily celebrate the feast of him that is risen again, that we may confirm our faith in one of his most valued doctrines. Belief in immortality is necessary for the human heart! Let this be the truth which shall employ us in this sacred hour. Let me prove it, and then draw some conclusions from it.

Every thing is really necessary to us, which we absolutely cannot dispense with, without perceiving our condition actually impaired, and our reasonable wishes disappointed of fulfilment. Thus, for instance, rest is needful to the weary, the esteem and love of good men to the noble-minded, and sympathizing consolation to the sorrowing. But above all things, faith in immortality is a real exigency to every thinking, aspiring man: for we cannot do without it, without being rendered unhappy, and seeing our purest and most holy desire unsatisfied; we cannot do without it, without losing what is most precious in existence; a satisfactory explication of the great end of our life, and therefore an answer to the great question, For what purpose am I made? it is, further, the raising of our moral strength, and a powerful support of it in trial, redounding to its honour, a refreshing solace in a state of suffering, and lastly a peaceful passage through the evening hours of our short earthly being. Sufficient reason surely, if this is the case, to call belief in immortality a real necessity for the human heart. Why do I exist on the earth? For what purpose has that holy Being created me, whose wisdom and goodness I find so abundantly conspicuous in nature? Every thing in the world is so ordered as to answer its purpose; and the goodness of the Father of all must have also fixed a certain object for me,—the noblest of the dwellers on earth,—which I am destined to attain. Every thing is matured for the developement of its powers; I also am richly furnished with precious endowments, faculties, and abilities. To cultivate and fully display these, to cultivate them for the acquirement of the highest imaginable good, of wisdom and virtue, for the continual increase of improvement, and for the final attainment of pure happiness; by the right use of all my powers to raise myself more and more to likeness with God, and to the exalted peace of a holy mind—can I conceive a more sublime end of my existence? And does not every thing, reason, religion, and the view of my own nature, point to the same end? But in what contradictions are my thoughts involved, if I may not look for the accomplishment of the scheme of God, in my duration beyond the grave, since I can by no means attain this object of my existence, if in death I cease to be! For then I might fairly ask, to what end are those manifold powers, those rich endowments imparted to my nature, which millions of my brethren, prevented by outward circumstances and the pressure of their condition, never disclose; and which I never see fully developed and matured even in the most favourable condition, and in the longest life? Wherefore are they given with such profusion to millions, who die in the flower of their years, or in the age of childhood? To what purpose the faculty of imagining the future, and the irresistible desire to continue to live always? To what purpose the increase of knowledge, improvement, and experience, if I am hurried away exactly when my career is brightest, at the very period when I begin to rejoice in the hardly won possession of these advantages? To what purpose the constant striving after a happiness, which I do not find here below, so as my heart longs for it? Even the purest virtue of the most excellent man, how deficient, how imperfect it remains Even the high satisfaction attending it, how often is it disturbed by weaknesses, which here can never be entirely cast off! We see every thing around us unfold itself, every thing ascend from one perfection to another; the caterpillar is converted into a butterfly: and shall the noblest inhabitant of earth alone make no progress, and after advancing a few steps, again quit the career so nobly commenced?

These doubts, an answer to which is so urgently requisite, are removed only by belief in immortality. The infinitely wise Creator cannot have wasted such noble powers upon us; every thing which. I observe and feel, leads me to a superior aim of my existence, which I can only reach by everlasting duration, and shall as certainly reach, as I confidently believe in the wisdom, justice, and goodness of the Eternal. For if man had received the finest faculties to so little purpose, how would that be consistent with the wisdom of the Eternal? If he had planted in us this warm aspiration for immortality, without satisfying it; if he annihilated us, when we first became susceptible of purer happiness; how should we be able to believe in his omnipotence and goodness? Do we not revere him as the All-holy and the All-just? And yet shall vice often triumph here below, and innocence be oppressed? Shall there never be a state of righteous retribution and glorification of virtue? Shall we be impeded by the most holy Being in our advances to perfection? How wretched, indeed, should we then be! how could we enjoy the pure generous pleasure of gratifying thought, if the great belief in immortality were wanting? Viewed then on this side, how pressing an exigency is it for the human heart! And without it how much should we lose in moral power, in strength under severe temptations, in persevering courage under the obstacles to our growing perfect! Now, since the hope of an everlasting progressiveness and a future easy victory; since the prospect, that a blessed result will one day crown our often laborious exertions, elevates our minds; now we press cheerfully forward; now the view of the wide field which is opened to our best activity, invigorates our spirits; now we sink not in trial, since the hope strengthens us that it will one day terminate, and we shall reap the blessed effects of our fidelity; in the mournful feeling of our infirmities we now rely on the consolatory belief, that the hour will come when we shall be delivered from them; and this trouble will vanish. But, my beloved, if this short earthly life alone were granted us for the developement of our virtuous energies; if at this beginning of good we should be forced to stop; if we should after much exertion acquire in vain a certain strength, which would be destroyed with our spirit in the grave, should we not faint in these efforts? What would the little progress profit us, which we could here make in virtue? We should then resemble travellers, who should enter on a road to a lovely country, from which, after advancing a short way, they are called off again. Yes, it is highly needful for our heart and our virtuous zeal, to be firmly persuaded, that. the good we have sown will once ripen; that, destined to perpetual advancement, we labour for an endless futurity and for the fuller accomplishment of the designs of the Eternal; when we subdue ourselves; when we perform his sacred will with faithfulness; when the doing good costs us great sacrifices, and that every progressive step is an approach to the grand object, to the attainment of which God has called us. And is it then, my beloved, is it always so easy in human life, to act nobly and uprightly? Ah! when weak man, yet ever longing after happiness, is assaulted on all sides, in perplexing situations and in the hours of adversity; when he can prove, his regard for virtue only by making severe sacrifices; when he stands alone in conflict, and on one side brilliant advantages, on the other heavy sorrows are offered to his choice, when on his resolving nobly every cheerful prospect vanishes, when, perhaps, virtue demands the surrender of his life; then he stands in need of a supporting, comforting thought, of an encouragement which may determine him to honour what is right; then it is so natural that a man should desire the prospect of a life, where the weary may rest from trial, and the hope, that spiritual blessings may flow from his devoted fidelity.

To love good for its own sake, to perform it merely from a sacred regard to duty, and without having the smallest respect to the painful or the gratifying consequences which may accrue to us, that is certainly great; that is the pure virtue after which we should be zealous aspirants. But we shall scarcely attain it here below; we cannot in our state of weakness entirely dispense with the supports of our virtue; and precisely in this feeling of our infirmities, from which we wish to be freed, lies a principal reason why we so fervently, so heartily, long for immortality. This faith then, viewed in this light also, is a real and urgent necessity of our hearts. Even Jesus Christ, the man of superior moral greatness, was strengthened by this faith in contending for truth and virtue. When with sorrow he spake to his disciples of his death, then his view was always directed to the future beyond the grave; then he saw in his death his departure to the Father, and rejoiced in the glory with which God would crown him, when his hard conflict should be finished. And, lastly, how deeply felt an exigency is this heart-cheering belief in the dark days of trial, in the nights of hopeless sorrows, and in the evening of life

Strength of mind in suffering, bestowed by God on those who love him—fulness of comfort lies in the words, Better days shall come! This consideration imparts happiness, and raises the spirits in the midst of tears; thou also who, of the same nature and destiny with thy brethren rejoicing around thee, canst not join in their cheerful tone; thou, who with equal desire of prosperity hast: found trouble and heaviness, and regrettest what the earth cannot restore to thee, thou too shalt find in a better world what thou longest and mayest long after, rest, joy, and peace. After the storms of life thou shalt land in a milder and more friendly region; shalt there be justified, if here the world mistook thy generous nature; shalt there find the love which here the unkindness of man robbed thee of; shalt there in the company of the perfected, perhaps in the embraces of those thou hast loved, be recompensed for the loss which nothing on this earth replaces; shalt there lay aside the covering, under the pains of which thou hast here long groaned; shalt be relieved from the weight of cares which thou hast borne with resolution and submission; shalt there discover the sacred truth which thou hast earnestly sought when contending with frequent doubts, and shalt see every pure, heavenly desire, which here was cherished and nothing could suppress, fully satisfied. Better days will come and last for ever: take this belief from the noble and patient sufferer, and he is overcome in struggling with his hard fate! There are many human sorrows which are borne in secret; the prosperous man neither knows nor conceives them. There are sorrows of the soul, which only death removes. But who would carry them with him to the grave, did not a ray of comfort from this very quarter shine upon the weary soul, did annihilation only destroy the sufferer’s pain? For all those grounds of consolation, which belief in the directing hand of God presents, would lose their force, if the perfection and perpetual advancement, at which we aim, and to which God leads us through trials, were snatched away; if we did not in expectation of a state, where the holiness and justice of God will be vindicated to us, and we shall acknowledge with adoration the wisdom and goodness of his dispensations. We must eradicate the ardent longing for prosperity and felicity, which the Eternal himself planted in our souls, if in days of adversity we would not languish for the hope, that better times may come; if we, afflicted by our weaknesses, depressed by bodily sufferings, grieving for painful wounds of the heart, were not desirous of deliverance and a state of more perfect enjoyment. And when the evening of life approaches, when every thing, which was dear to the heart, is torn away, when all things have disappeared as a dream, when much that we once coveted affects us no more; when the mind now thirsts for new enjoyment, and but one desire warmly glows within it; ah, then it turns its view to heaven, and seeks there what the earth has no power to give it: The life of man would terminate dreadfully, if the grave. were his home; the evening of his present state would be dismal, if destruction followed it; despair must seize him, whom joy caressed in former years, were no prospect beyond the grave opened to the departing.

How great and invincible a necessity is belief in immortality! How every thing is centred in this belief, a heaven full of bliss and tranquillity This great hope dries up all tears, reconciles the sufferer to the world, exalts him, who has nearly run his course, above this earth, cradles him in peaceful repose, makes bright images float around him, and gently leads the sun. of his life to its setting. Yes, my beloved, the belief in immortality is no imaginary want of the heart: it is not a visionary happiness which we so ardently desire; not a truth in which only our love of knowledge is interested; not an affair, which at the most adds only to our well-being upon earth. No, this belief is extremely important and essential to our rational and composing reflection, to our strength in virtue and our cheerful perseverance in good, to our consolation in anxious hours, and our only hope in death. Without it we should be really wretched, and an inexplicable riddle to ourselves; we must then envy the irrational creatures, which would fulfil the purpose of their existence better than ourselves, which have no apprehension of futurity, and suffer death without fear. We can do without much in the world, and yet live contented and serene; we need not much knowledge in order to be happy; but we cannot miss this comfort, this faith, without being deprived of every possible interpretation respecting the object of our existence, and consequently of the foundation of every pure joy; every true satisfaction, every delightful hope. Deep in our souls rests the desire for immortality; we are unable to extirpate it. And therefore is it also, if we believe in the existence of an eternal Being, full of wisdom and goodness, a strong proof of the reality of our eternal duration. O not in vain, not to disappoint us, has he who created us, planted such a holy impulse in our souls! We must cease to believe in any higher destiny, we must abandon the sublimest aim of human existence, perpetual advancement in wisdom and virtue, if we should doubt of the immortality of our spirit. No; as certainly as this pure and lively desire for deliverance from earthly infirmities, for superior wisdom and refined virtue, for constant pressing on to perfection, exists in my soul, so surely do I know, that I shall not perish, when my body falls into dust. I bear the pledge of my immortality within me; the reason which God gave me compels me to believe in its everlasting duration. This state of infancy here below will not constitute the whole of my existence. These abundant powers in me will not remain undeveloped, this longing after a better condition will not be destroyed in death. We are immortal, my friends! As sure as God gave us a. warm desire to know more of his wonders than the earth displays with all the charms of the fresh and thousand-coloured spring, so surely this short life is not the last purpose for which God created us. And the more virtuous you are, the more acquainted you become with these noblest cravings of your heart, so much the more will the belief in immortality take root in your souls. The more sacred the purpose of human life appears to you, the more certain will you be that you are formed to attain it by perpetual advancement. The more ardent your thirst after truth, so much the more heavenly the hope, that it will one day be allayed in the regions of light. The more you feel your confinement, whilst full of desire for greater perfection, so much the more delightful will this truth be to you, the hour of deliverance is at hand! Thus your virtue cherishes the holiest hope, and this elevates your heart and gives it strength unto victory.

Nothing then, my beloved, shall rob us of this precious faith; we compassionate with brotherly love him who cannot subdue the unhappy doubts, into which he has strayed; we despise him who ridicules what is sacred. We are immortal! May this heavenly confidence be our light in the way of life, our comfort in the gloominess of sorrow, and may it infuse into us a foretaste of heaven at our dying hour! We adore God for the unutterable blessing of this faith; we sing praises to him for it with holy joy on the festival of immortality. Amen.

SERMON VIII.

THE INTIMATE CONNEXION BETWEEN THE FERVENT LOVE OF GOD, AND LOVE AND REVERENCE TOWARDS JESUS CHRIST.

To thee, the only-begotten Son of the Highest, the eternal Mediator and Propitiator, who hast acquired for us the sacred privilege of the children of God, be honour and praise for evermore! Amen.

Great and striking unquestionably, my Christian hearers, is the difference of judgments formed on human actions and speeches. But a greater and more striking diversity has never been exhibited, than that concerning the discourses and acts of Jesus, our Lord, whose last calamities pass before our view in these still and solemn weeks. The purity and innocence of his life, the superhuman power with which he performed things which no other man did, the celestial strength of the truth of his Gospel, did not fail to make a due impression. “Thou, O Lord, hast the words of eternal life,” cried Peter with high inspiration before the chosen of Jesus, who were assembled in familiar circle round that Divine Being; who opened their hearts to his heavenly doctrine, and rested on him their trust, their labours, their wishes, their hope. “Never man spake like this Man.” “Verily this is that Prophet that should come into the world.” “Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord.” Thus said the unprejudiced among his contemporaries who could not conceal from themselves, nor deny, that they never before felt so deeply affected. When Jesus spake, feelings of joy, of admiration, of gratitude and love, broke forth in those multitudes which followed him, into loud acclamations, into an universal glorification of the Lord. But the louder the admiration of his deeds, the stronger the influence of his doctrine became; so much the more the hate of the Pharisees, the hate of the Scribes and Jewish priests, increased, and armed itself against Divine truth and Him who proclaimed it; so much the more assiduously did they labour to calumniate his character, to deride his instructions, to traduce his miracles, to destroy his reputation, to bias his adherents and make them revolt against him; so much the more studiously they contrived means and occasions to deprive him of his efficiency, his liberty, his earthly existence. Can we deny, my hearers, that Jesus is estimated in very different lights in our generation also? It is loudly proclaimed in our temples, that he is the Son of the Eternal, the Saviour of the world, the true and only Mediator and Redeemer; the song of praise soars aloft to him on the wings of devotion; at his altar is presented to us, that which should raise us to an invisible and blessed communion with him, the Divine Being; and in the hearts of pious Christians lives Jesus evermore.

But—how sad a spectacle! wicked men also have arisen, to whom the holy Scripture, the heavenly doctrine of Jesus our Lord, has afforded a convenient occasion for dull jesting, because they are not capable of comprehending what is holy, because their mouths, their hearts, their course of life, profane and desecrate every thing; persons full of hatred and hostility to Jesus are come forth And have blasphemed Him, in whose mouth was no guile; and thoughtless men live on the vanity of their hearts, who do not indeed mock nor blaspheme, but who feel no interest in Jesus. For this coldness towards the Redeemer, which has been so widely spread in our days, excuses are not wanting. It is often sought to be palliated by the explanation, that men can maintain a religious disposition in general, pray to the Highest, and love and worship the Deity, without particularly regarding Jesus and his word, without being Christianly religious. And in fact, my hearers, this objection is certainly plausible. Who may assert without injustice, that among all those, who have lived on. the earth in ignorance of Jesus and his Gospel, there has been no religious heart? But we, to whom the saving grace of God in Christ Jesus our Lord has appeared, to whom it is granted to search the Scripture, to understand therein, what that Divine person has communicated, what he has done, effected, and endured for us, to behold his glory, the glory of the only-begotten Son of God—we, who call ourselves Christians, cannot possibly accede to this erroneous opinion. He who has once received the word of eternal life, who is at all acquainted with the sacred history of him, in whom we have life and full sufficiency; if he will not contradict himself, nor belie his understanding, nor separate what is indissoluble, let him not say, “I love God,” if in his inward mind he has no regard for Jesus. For a true, genuine, filial love of God stands in the closest connexion with the love and reverence which we owe to Jesus. The words of our text call upon us to unfold this thought more perspicuously.

John viii. 42-44.

Jesus said unto them, If God were your Father, ye would love me, for I proceeded forth and came from God, neither came I of myself, but he sent me. Why do ye not understand my speech? even because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do.

THE Jews, to whom Jesus speaks in the words of our text, blinded by proud self-conceit, called themselves children of God and the Lord’s people, since, being the posterity of the pious Abraham, they thought they had the first title to the favour of the Lord. They called themselves children of God, without worshipping him with a truly filial regard. They conspicuously manifested what little real desire they had seriously to perform the will of God, by the contempt and ungrateful hatred, with which they treated Jesus and his Gospel. Full of the generous love of truth Jesus addresses them, “If God were your Father,” if you worshipped God with truly filial sentiments, if you could with perfect right call yourselves children of God, then “ye would love me.” Let us take this saying of our Redeemer into consideration. The intimate connexion in which the filial love of God stands with love and reverence towards Jesus, is the subject for our present meditation. Let us in the first place inquire into the nature and grounds of this connexion, and then it will easily be shewn, how fruitful and important is the contemplation of this subject.

1st. To love God as a father, my hearers, comprehends infinitely more, than the worldly-minded man is accustomed to understand by it. It comprehends in fact far more, than openly to confess with the lips, that God is our Father, our Lord, and our Judge; more, than to feel a transient emotion at the thought of God, which passes quickly over without making any deep impression, or having any beneficial efficacy on the heart and life; more, than to solemnize sacred forms of devotion and the worship of God from mere custom. No; to be thoroughly penetrated by an ever active, ever lively consciousness of the sacred relations in which we stand to God, the Creator of life, the Giver of all good things, the Lord and Judge of all the living and the dead; to know no higher good, no fairer object of our exertions and wishes, than God and his heaven; to feel affected with a holy joy, when the greatness, the dispensations, and the will of God are published and made sensible to us; this is to love God. And if this love be deeply rooted, then we pray from the heart, we join with the whole soul in the hymns of praise, by which God is glorified aloud in his temple; we find it our meat, like Jesus, to do the will of God. We affirm not without reason, that whoever loves God as a Father, must feel himself deeply penetrated by similar sentiments, sensations, and affections towards Jesus; he must love and worship Jesus also; Him, who stands in the most intimate union with God; Him, the most perfect image of the invisible God; Him, who proceeded from the Father, to accomplish his work upon earth; Him, who reconciled and brought us into favour with God. “We believe and confess, that thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God,” exclaimed the inspired Simon Peter, the ardent witness of the truth, when Jesus asked his chosen followers, if they also would leave him, like those who walked no more with him.

And every where, wherever we look into our holy Scriptures, the word of life, the momentous word meets us, Christ is the Son of God, he stands in a superior and exclusive connexion with God. On all sides his disciples call upon us to believe in the Son of God from him they promise Christians grace and salvation and everlasting peace of mind; “he that believeth that Jesus Christ is the Son of God,” saith the Scripture, “overcometh the world

1 John v. 5.

SERMON IX.

ON THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS.

GOD, who has formed us for happiness, and who leads us unerringly to this end by obeying his laws, be with us in this hour! Amen.

My Christian hearers, amongst the important doctrines of religion, in which we are instructed in our youth and in after-life, that of forgiveness of sins is unquestionably one of the most momentous. Who is not sensible that he needs this forgiveness? Who does not wish to be worthy of it and to secure it? And on what point is the instruction of the Christian religion more express, than concerning the manner in which we ought to reform ourselves, to seek forgiveness of God, and to keep ourselves worthy of it? Important, however, as this doctrine is, and abundant the instruction respecting it, yet it appears as if prejudices of various kinds prevailed, which have so much the more injurious consequences, as virtuous zeal is apt to be weakened thereby, and men are placed in a state of excessive, and yet fruitless anxiety. The first take; place, when persons not only consider forgiveness of sins as a gift easily to be obtained, but are also of opinion, that all, even the natural consequences of sin are done away, when they feel an assurance of this gift, and a certainty that God is not angry, and begin to think sin and vice, whose consequences are so easily obviated, less to be dreaded. Man passes easily from one extreme to the other; and so there are others, who, influenced by erroneous representations of God, give themselves up to the most tormenting fears, and tremble before God with the most serious intention of amendment, and are slow to believe that He, the All-gracious, can be disposed to forgive. Since we all need pardon of God, and it is desirable that we neither too readily hope for it, nor expect too much from it, nor give way to too great apprehensions about it, I think I shall offer somewhat not unworthy of the attention of all those who are willingly reminded of the essential parts of religious instruction, if I speak more fully on this important subject, on the occasion of our Gospel for the day. God grant that we may here also discover the truth!

Matt. ix. 2d and 5 following verses.

And, behold, they brought to him a man sick of the palsy, lying on a bed: and Jesus seeing their faith, said unto the sick of the palsy; Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee, &c.

WITHOUT being led by this narrative to enter on the apparently difficult question, whether Christ could only announce and assure forgiveness of his sins, like other teachers of religion, to the sick man, who probably suffered the consequences of his sins in this sickness, and was dejected and sorrowful on this account; or whether he could really and of his own power forgive them, and make the punishments attached to them cease; and firmly convinced that he will have said nothing which is not perfectly correct, and that, devoid of all arrogance, he will not have attributed more to himself than was actually his right; let us only make use of this Gospel to remind us of the instruction we have received concerning forgiveness of sins, to form correct notions of the thing itself, and then to apply these admitted and lively notions for our information, and for the destruction of various prejudices. And then, perhaps, the before-mentioned question will be more easily decided by reflecting persons. But, whilst I speak of the forgiveness of sins, I shall give an answer to two questions in particular. First, what it is, and how it is obtained? And, Secondly, what effect it has? The first will secure us from too great anxiety, and the last from a carelessness which is far more injurious than that anxiety.

When we speak of forgiveness of sins, our thoughts turn to God, who has a right to punish and is said to forgive, and to man, who needs and desires this forgiveness. The representations that God punishes, that man intreats God for pardon, and that the punishments of sin are removed, have certainly a character of truth which human reason must acknowledge, and with which the holy Scripture agrees. The following seem to be the fundamental notions of this truth. We cannot look upon this world, in which so much order and connexion prevail, and especially the moral world to which we, as men, belong, in any other light than as under the superintendence of a superior Being, by whom it is governed. This government is carried on according to certain laws, which are no other than the understood moral precepts of the intellectual world in general, and the human race in particular. Now as often as man transgresses one of these laws, which, by means of the liberty granted him, he has the power to do, whether from ignorance, or want of consideration, or from wilful design, he remains at all times exposed to the consequences, which the Ruler of the world has attached to such a transgression, and which we are doubtless justified in calling punishments; and we may assert with reason, that no violation of the Divine commandments, and, therefore, no sin, remains unpunished. But hence very false notions of God easily arise, especially of anger and revenge; because we are not able to conceive the Deity otherwise than as bearing some similarity to us men, and because it is too natural and easy for us to transfer our affections and passions to God.

These incorrect notions have no little influence on the idea we form of forgiveness of sins itself, and particularly on the manner of seeking this forgiveness. For the most part (at least this is the idea of a great number of Christians) we imagine God in wrath, when man commits an offence, and disposed, not only to make him feel the natural consequences of sin, but also to inflict on him additional and eternal penalties; we fancy that his offended Majesty can only be appeased by satisfaction being made, and that in general God can be moved, not so much by inward contrition and steady improvement, as by continual and painful, supplication, slowly and gradually to pardon, to mitigate his anger, and to remove his punishments. Hence men tremble when they seek forgiveness; hence have they so much anxious fear whether they shall obtain it; hence they commonly take a wrong method in seeking it; and, chiefly because they consider punishment as the operation of the wrath of God, promise themselves a greater effect from it, than from the nature of the thing it can possibly have. But this is founded on extremely erroneous notions, inasmuch as God is never in anger, and forgiveness must be regarded, not as a change in God, but as a change in man. Little as we can deny that God disapproves, when man transgresses the Divine precepts, yet as little ought we to believe that he is angered, that he is filled with wrath and vengeful feelings against man, and that he is not inclined to forgive him, and to take away the punishments, as far as the happiness of man himself permits. For the injunctions and commandments, which God has given to the world and to us man, are not given for his own sake, but for our happiness. He is not made happier by the observance, nor less happy by the violation of them; for his blessedness is independent of the world. When man transgresses them, he injures only himself; and, therefore, is not an object of hatred and condemnation, but of regret and compassion, like the unfortunate, who does not regard the warning voice of a friend. Here also the image of a father teaches us the truest conceptions. As a wise father enjoins nothing to his child but what is profitable for the child itself; as he must pity him if he offends against his injunctions and injures himself; as his corrections serve only to make the evil consequences the more sensibly felt, and to warn the child the more strictly against a similar transgression; as also he is disposed immediately and heartily to forgive the repentant and intreating child, and to remove the discretionary punishment, which he had added to the natural consequences; so it is with us men and God. When man transgresses a command of God, he violates a precept, which God gave him for his benefit, he does injury to himself, he draws upon himself the prejudicial consequences which are more or less connected therewith, and prepares his own misfortunes and his own punishment. But God delights in this punishment as little, as he is inflamed with passion against men; on the contrary, the only sensation which we may attribute to God, is compassion, regret, and a wish that man should be converted and become wiser; and if this takes place, if a man confesses the sins he has committed, if he purposes to forsake them, if he is really resolved to avoid them, and gives proofs of his amendment; God is well pleased with this change, and it is scarcely necessary for a man to implore forgiveness, because God, who knows the heart, already and before his intreaty, had forgiven him. Yes, we can and indeed must maintain, that on such occasions no change is effected in God, but only in man; for God, the immutable, is always inclined to forgive; and it is only requisite for man to be convinced of this disposition, and to manifest a genuine reformation.

SERMON X.

JESUS ALREADY GLORIFIED IN DEATH.

(FOR GOOD FRIDAY.)

THE whole labour and life of Jesus Christ, whose death is to-day commemorated by his Church, was a glorifying of God among men. For what other object is apparent in his discourses and in his actions, in the institutions which he founded, and in the establishments which owe their existence to him, than to spread abroad a worthier perception and a purer worship of the Eternal, whom he called Father; to cause his name to be more revered by the world, his law to be more sacred to men, or, as he himself expresses it in his incomparable prayer, to hallow the name of God, to introduce his kingdom, the kingdom of his adorers, and to engender that regard to his will on earth, which is paid to it in Heaven. For this purpose did Jesus contend against the God-dishonouring superstition of the multitude, against that service of ceremonies and sacrifices, to which the blind leaders of the people had perverted religion; against the hypocrisy, which was an abomination to the saints in Heaven, and a disgrace to humanity. And how studious of the honour of God was the whole demeanour of Jesus Christ, our Lord! God was to him more sacred than all things. To God above he poured forth his prayers and supplications. From above, what he hoped and expected, descended upon him. From thence, what befel him here below, was directed. God was his whole thought, his consolation, his joy, until his eyes were closed. “I come to do thy will, O my God.” “I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day, for the night cometh, in which no man can work

John ix. 4.

SERMON XI.

ON THE SANCTITY OF AN OATH, AND THE CRIME OF PERJURY.

OH God, most holy and just, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, and thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven, that right and truth may rule, and peace and love dwell among us! Let us ever adhere to the truth before thee, that we may not shun thy all-seeing eye, and thy eternal justice. Strengthen us to this effect according to thy grace, that thy fear may constantly govern us, that we may evermore walk before thee with our view devoutly directed on high, and find our happiness in thy love. Amen.

Philip. i. 3-8.

I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship in the Gospel from the first day until now; being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ: even as it is meet for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart; inasmuch as both in my bonds, and in the defence and confirmation of the Gospel, ye all are partakers of my grace. For God is my record, how greatly I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ.

THE Apostle rejoices in our text in the uniformly constant fellowship of the Church at Philippi in the Gospel of Jesus, feels confident that God will gloriously complete the good work which was begun in them, and calls God, the Omniscient, as a witness of the desire of his heart for them when in his imprisonment, and of the affectionate sentiments he entertained towards them. “God is my record,” he says, “how greatly I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ.” This asseveration of the Apostle, uttered with pious feeling on a solemn occasion, leads our serious attention to those oaths, which are required by authority as the seal of important depositions and promises, and those which, uncalled for, are uttered by the inconsiderate on the most trifling occasions; thus I feel myself under an obligation before God, to address you who are here assembled with the deep seriousness of the Gospel, respecting both kinds of oaths, and the heinous crime of perjury. The importance of the subject itself demands such consideration, but alarming appearances of our time give it a peculiar and impressive interest. The sacredness of an oath is undervalued by thousands; it is less respected, especially since the time when the taking of oaths has been so multiplied, and certainly often unnecessarily imposed; when the solemnity with which they formerly were taken is seldom any more observed, rather indeed a levity of conduct is more frequently perceived in those to whom the oath is administered. The profligacy of many who esteem earthly advantages higher than the favour of God, and are not afraid to mock him, the Most Holy, is to be added; and the blindness of those, who think that any dishonest reservation will exempt them from the penalties of perjury, completes the deplorable picture. How deeply these appearances affect the true happiness of the people! How can we subsist, what shall become of us, when no more trust is to be placed in our declarations, even of slighter import; and when again truth and honesty are so lightly esteemed, that many cannot be impressed nor bound even by their calling upon the all-holy Searcher of hearts! Whither shall we sink, when the fear of God so departs from us, that the taking of an oath is no longer a sure pledge of the truth, this highly important religious act seems to be misapprehended, and is actually made an object of profane jesting? On what a brink of destruction do we hover, if we do not all shudder with one feeling of horror at the shocking impiety of perjury! Let us then, beloved, take a nearer view of this high object, and seriously consider the sanctity of an oath and the fearful crime of perjury. May God strengthen us, that our hearts may feel a lively impression of the deep interest of the subject!

That veracity and integrity be held sacred and every where effective, is an essential condition of the furtherance of human improvement and general prosperity. A lie is the germ of all moral corruption and the grave of our well-being; a lie is of a devilish nature

John viii. 44.

At the cradle of the Redeemer of the world sounded the sacred cry, “Peace on earth!” and thereby it was declared, what spirit must animate those, who would avow themselves servants of that divine Person, namely the spirit of the strictest regard for right, the spirit of truth, candour, integrity, and faithfulness. Where this spirit prevails, there is unlimited trust, cheerful confidence, quiet submission, firm security, and consequently peace. Where love works, there distrustful anxiety gives way, for “Love worketh no ill to its neighbour.” But where this is the case, nothing more is required than the simple word, the simple affirmation, the simple promise; every pledging of honour, every joining of hands, every additional protestation, is quite superfluous. The language of a sincere heart is alone sufficient, the word alone is amply satisfactory. But the Lord, to whom we would belong, willeth such surety and such trust, and quite decided is his declaration; “Let your communication be yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatsoever. is more than these cometh of evil.” We may consequently assume, that in respect to those who are truly his, the real members of his spiritual kingdom, his precept; “Swear not at all,” is to be taken literally. For where the truth, which he enjoins, presides, there belief also prevails, and when that is so, what need is there of any other confirmation of an assertion or a promise? Yes, thus should it be, this should be the rule with us. Truth should have planted its banner among Christians, no doubt of integrity should find place amongst them, no other surety than an honest heart be necessary, no oath be required, because not needed. But this holy kingdom of God, this sovereignty of truth and of full belief, comprehends not alas! in any part of the world, all who call themselves after the Lord. Liars walk by the side of lovers of truth, and deceivers near honest men. Both, who have rendered themselves unworthy of trust, stand in need of a surety for what they say; they are willing to pledge indeed their honour, their faithfulness, and the clasping of hands; but what is binding or sacred to such unfortunates, to whom truth is no longer a duty? They themselves disgrace the sureties whom they have proposed, and even honour does not restrain them from falsehood and perfidy. The last means, therefore, are tried to bind them, that they may not recklessly commit themselves. The highest consideration which can be conceived, shall awe them, the consideration of the Omniscient who seeth in secret, the Most Holy, who punishes deceit and wrong with eternal perdition. Where depositions or promises are of great importance to society, where the innocence or the life of a brother is concerned, or the indispensable faithfulness in office, recourse is had to the sacred thought of God, to bind persons of doubtful disposition. They shall call upon him, the eternal Searcher and Judge of all hearts, to witness the truth of their declaration, the honesty of their promise; they shall point above with upraised hand towards heaven, where the ever righteous Rewarder of evil is enthroned; they shall speak the truth, as they value their everlasting happiness; they themselves shall pronounce judgment on their falsehood, if in these solemn moments they are guilty of it. Thus they give, as it were, the fate of their immortal soul as a security. Whether the swearer is made to lay his hand on the Bible or not, and lights are placed near the image of the Crucified, or not—he who swears as a Christian, well knows the fearful assurance in the Bible, “Be not deceived, God is not mocked;” he is already under a strict obligation to imitate the Lord, who was fastened to the cross because he continued faithful to the truth even unto death. Hence the occasion of oaths is derived from the unchristian temper of those, who in the levity and corruption of their hearts have become strangers to veracity, and whose conscience needs to be particularly roused and alarmed.

Yet, since light-mindedness and dishonesty often lie concealed, and the judge cannot presume precisely to discern the inward mind, the oath is required of all persons in cases, which the law prescribes, and even the good man, whose simple word and promise are as sacred to him as that which he swears to, must comply with the oath imposed by the law. It should indeed be enforced only on urgent occasions, and be taken with the greatest solemnity. If it be otherwise, if it be required without necessity from him who must obey, or if there be a reprehensible levity in the proceeding, then legislators and judges may stand responsible before the Judge of worlds, when they make what is holy common, and treat with disrespect that which should be revered: but it does not exempt you, who swear, from that solemn seriousness, with which you ought then to behave. Does it rest with you in a question of right, whether you will maintain your actual rights by an oath, and is the advantage of such a nature, that you can forego it according to your conscience? then rather give it up, than solemnly invoke God on an affair of small moment. But must you swear? then view this most sacred act in its fullest signification; an oath is of Weighty import, whether a small or a great matter is at stake. Persons usually prepare themselves beforehand for important undertakings; do you then also seriously consider what. you are about to do. You shall give evidence or make a promise. Reflect, before God, whether you can do this or that with perfect conscientiousness. Think how easily our senses err, bow our memory may deceive us. Consider whether you have the power to perform, what you shall promise upon oath; whether you have an entire willingness to fulfil conscientiously, and for a continuance, the duties to be undertaken. Do you feel fully satisfied on this point? well, then proceed with the reverence which such a sacred act requires, but also with the composure which your purity of intention affords you; then uplift the soul, the eye, the hand, to the Omniscient Being who is nigh unto you, then testify to the truth with secret prayer to him, who is the eternal Fountain of truth: or if you are sworn to undertake high duties, then cheerfully vow to your God first, what you will vow to men by invoking the name of God, and to that which your mouth utters, let your heart say forcibly but calmly, Amen! Behold, thus shalt thou swear with that deep veneration and propriety, which proclaim the sanctity of an oath to all who observe thee, with lamentation for human corruption, which has so grievously weakened the confidence in simple assertion, but nevertheless with the gratifying feeling, that by thy upright conduct in these sacred moments thou glorifiest God.

In the same degree, beloved, in which an oath taken with sincerity is a religious act, highly to be venerated and of awful importance, appears on the other hand perjury, as an infamous and shocking crime, a dreadful blasphemy, an abominable trifling with heaven and hell. To begin with smaller things; whoever lies without blushing, whoever testifies what he has not seen or heard, whoever promises what he will not perform, whoever pledges his honour to an untruth, whoever abuses the mutual and assuring pressure of hands to the ruin of his neighbour; how low is such an one sunk! how despicable is he! But, alas! he may sink still deeper. With daring countenance he now strikes at what is divine, makes a mock of the Most Holy, scorns everlasting mercy, purchases empty worldly profit with the wages of hell. Represent to yourselves the terrific portrait of a perjured man, and consider then his abominable conduct. When the human judge can pronounce no sentence respecting a deed done without witnesses, he, who has some knowledge of the affair, shall now be called upon to afford ground for decision. The case affects the right, the honour, the property, perhaps even the life of a fellow-creature.

How pressing a demand upon his veracity does the importance of these valuable things constitute! how shameful then to speak falsely! But that this may the more surely be prevented, that the man may not be induced, either by fear or gain, to swerve from the truth, it is required of him, that he shall take God as the holy witness of his declaration, and speak the truth, if he wishes that God may be gracious to him. The earth, its advantages and its sorrows, should be lost sight of in these solemn moments; God and eternity should fill his soul. But now the miserable man steps forth with unabashed brow, to deride both divine and human laws, and for the sake of some worldly trifle, which to-morrow may be the prey of fate, profligately to hazard his eternal happiness; he steps forth with reprobate mind to; raise his hand to heaven, the seat of the avenging Deity, and with perjured words to blaspheme the Most Holy. Now is the deed of hell accomplished, equally heinous, whether the wages of sin be small or great. The judge must now do wrong without his fault, condemned innocence now goes weeping from the place where justice alone should rule, the terrible curse of her tears now lies upon the perjured man. He has confessed God with his lips, but has blasphemed him inwardly; he has sported like a madman with God and eternity. He would obtain enjoyment, and he has laid a gnawing worm that never dies to his heart; he has, like one not in his senses, valued the span of this life higher than eternity. It is to no purpose that he reserves a secret sense in his oath,—that he gave in his own mind another signification to his words. Wretched, contemptible subterfuge! This shameful deception will vanish, when once his conscience shall awake with the pains of hell, and the words, “Be not deceived, God is not mocked,” will hover flaming before his tortured soul. Oh! it is too shocking to wish to make the most holy and righteous God, as it were, a concealer of crime and disgrace. Imagine not, wretched man, that an oath as a human exigency is of trivial importance, hold it not for something common, if, perhaps, it is treated as common by an erring legislation, or an inconsiderate judge.

A sacred awe of it should dwell in every breast; if thou hast it not, woe unto thee! Hast thou so severed thyself from God, that thou no more regarded him? Woe unto thee! He is enthroned above the stars, his presence will be alarmingly announced to thee in the voice of thunder, in the voice of thy terribly awakened conscience, in the voice of the messenger of death, whom God sends to bring you before his holy tribunal. Unhappy man! already thou hast destroyed thy peace here below; thou must tremble for fear of the exposure of thy crime, must dread solitude and the anguish of sleepless nights, must shudder at every anticipation of thy hour of death. Yes, fly from every death-bell, every funeral procession; they warn you fearfully of the hour of judgment. And yet it comes to thee also inevitably. Miserable man! nothing saves thee from its agony! Thou hast, in swearing falsely, renounced the mercy of God; and yet no mortal, not even the most pious can stand without it. Alas! when the good things, which thou boughtest with perjury, now appear to thee accursed, when thy heart, in the heat of anguish, pants for coolness, as thy dry palate thirsts for refreshment, when thou shudderest at thy former self-cursing, when thou findest no solace in thyself, and lookest forward with despair into the night of eternity—poor man! even they, whom thou once defrauded, must now deplore thy misery.

Let me break off, beloved, and with mild words urgently exhort you; honour with inviolable fidelity God and the truth! “Let your communication be yea, yea; nay, nay; and esteem whatsoever is more than these” as “evil.” Withstand the temptation to acquire any advantage, though by the very least deviation from the truth. “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

Fathers, Mothers, Teachers, hold it of the first importance in the education of those entrusted to you, forcibly to represent to them veracity and faithfulness in their serious and their beautiful colours, and to plant in their souls the deepest abhorrence of every the smallest kind of dishonesty. Let us all walk pure and without offence in the true fear of God; and, in all temptations, by firmly holding fast truth and right, let us keep that holy peace, which blesses those only, who are of a clean heart, even to the end. Amen.

SERMON XII.

ON THE END OF THE WORLD.

“LORD, thou hest been our refuge from one generation to another. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were made, thou art God from everlasting, and world without end.” Amen.

THE expectation of the near approaching end of the world was intimately interwoven, my friends, with the creed of the original church, and many Christians of the earliest time hoped or feared, that they should witness this great event, and behold the day of the Lord’s return. The same expectation was renewed from time to time. In the following centuries numerous prophets arose, who proclaimed the day and hour of the end of the world; and there are some, even among our own contemporaries, who believe they can read on the dial-plate of the world’s great time-piece, and determine what time it is in the kingdom of God. Then, namely, when the year one thousand after the birth of Christ drew near, many voices announced that this thousandth. year of the Christian era would infallibly conclude the succession of ages, and bring in the end of the world; and the people full of terror and anxious expectation looked forward to the things that should come; the thoughtless man became contemplative and serious, the pious redoubled the exercises of devotion, and numerous pilgrims wandered to the Holy Land, that the great day of judgment might find them at the grave of the Redeemer. Experience has belied all these prophecies. The specified years and days arrived, and men looked with eager expectation to all quarters of the heavens, to discover the precursors of the consummation so near at hand; but the heaven altered not its form, the earth swerved not from its course, and every thing moved on in its accustomed track; the stars rose and set, as they had done since the memory of man, and day and night, summer and winter, alternated as they had done for thousands of years. Nature, in its steady order, in its equal course, and in the unexhausted fulness of its strength, mocked at human folly, which attempted to fathom its secret energies of life, and calculate the duration of its years, and presumed they knew what, as the Lord himself says, “no man knoweth, no, not the angels in heaven, but the Father only.” More rarely than at former periods, have proclaimers of the world drawing to its close appeared in our days; and if at times such a prophetic voice is heard, it is not attended to, and fills no minds, as formerly, with fear and apprehension..

But this is not, perhaps, merely the fruit of wisdom, which disclaims the knowledge of what cannot be known, but also the consequence of unbelief, the result of an irreligious view of the world, according to which many of our contemporaries consider the world not as the work of an Almighty Creator, who can destroy what he has constructed, but as the changeful product of an eternal power of nature, which obeying, not God, but its own law of inward necessity, is moved in a circle without beginning and without end. In the minds of many in these days, all idea of an end of the world is effaced; and hence it is, and not from a modest acknowledgment of the limitation of human faculties, that there arises in most of them that indifference, with which they repel all questions referring to this great event. But the end of the world is as essential an article of the Christian laid], as the doctrine of its creation and government: a religious view of the world necessarily leads to this reflection, and religious feeling is never more powerfully awakened, than when we transport ourselves in idea to the time when the structure of the world falls to pieces, the entire order of things at present subsisting, terminates, and a “new earth and a new heaven cometh, wherein dwelleth righteousness.” I will, therefore, present this great and serious consideration to your minds, and address you on the end of the world. Ask not, what will such a contemplation profit? its object lies in itself. The magnitude of this consideration is its importance, and its seriousness is. its power. Let us then meditate on it in our inmost souls.

Matt. xxiv. 37, and following verses.

But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be. For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noe entered into the ark, and knew not until the flood came and took them all away; so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be. Then shall two be in the field; the one shall be taken, and the other left. Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken, and the other left. Watch, therefore, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth come.

JESUS and the Apostles, as often as the last things which should happen were the subject of their discourse, spake in figures, and only in figures could they speak of a change which will occur perceptible by the senses, but which never has been subjected to human experience. The image and the thing itself, the doctrine and the figurative words in which it is clothed, are closely conjoined in these discourses; so that in many cases we do not distinguish, with certainty, the one from the other, but may easily either take the symbol for the thing signified, or consider that which is more than symbol as mere figure. Hence the difference of opinion among the expositors of Scripture on the doctrine of Christianity, respecting the latest things which are to happen. But if we declare ever so much to be figure and allegory, which is accustomed to be held for doctrine, still we cannot mistake, that Jesus and the Apostles proclaim an end of the world, and speak of a period when the now existing order of things shall cease, and a new earth and a new heaven shall appear. This period is most frequently called ‘the day of the Lord,’ or ‘the coming of the Son of Man,’ and we collect from the descriptions of this day, that it will be an epoch completely subversive of the subsisting order of things. This Jesus indicates, when he compares in the text, the time of his return, and the time of the deluge, and says shortly before, that “the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be shaken.” The Apostles speak in the same manner of this time, and Peter, for instance, says, “on the day of the Lord the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the earth also, and the works that are therein shall be burnt up

2 Pet. iii. 10.

SERMON XIII.

ON THE DIVINE MISSION OF CHRIST.

O GOD, we praise thee with deep emotion of soul, for that thou hast crowned the excellent faculties, which we owe to thee, with the precious gift of reason, and hast laid the foundation of our knowledge of thee and thy sacred will in the depths of our spiritual nature. But with equal emotion and gratitude we warmly extol thy goodness, which sent a benefactor to appear amongst us, in Jesus thy ambassador, who has spoken to us in thy name, secured our wavering reason against gross errors and false conclusions, calmed our heart with respect to the past, and by his triumph over persecution,. death, and the grave, has opened to us a prospect of a glorious and joyful futurity. May our conscience testify, that we have occupied our minds with a free and honest examination into his divine dignity and mission; may we all be able to say before thee, that we have valued the greatest of thy mercies, the sending of thy Son for our salvation, according to its worth, and that we have laboured to become worthy of its fruits by filial devotion; may we all now appear before thee with the pious intention of seriously and conscientiously considering, how much our rational religion is profited by the conviction, that Jesus Christ was sent to us by thee, that he might become our wisdom and righteousness, our sanctification and redemption. Holy Father, sanctify us in the contemplation of this truth, for thy word is truth. Amen.

John xvii. 3.

And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.

THE well-known words of our text, beloved hearers, contain two conditions under which a true and lasting happiness, both here and hereafter, is promised us; namely, the knowledge of God, and4 Jesus Christ whom he hath sent. Since the time when Christianity gradually became the predominant religion in our quarter of the globe, the efforts of teachers have always been to extend and to perfect this knowledge, and especially in latter times to procure for it a new accession and increase by a more liberal cultivation of our reason. Great and splendid in the mean time as the advancement of our age may be towards a purer knowledge of God, and, through that, to an improved rational religion; it at the same time appears to neglect in an equal degree the knowledge of Him, to whose instruction we are indebted, in a great measure, for the enlargement of our reason, and who has been ordained by God himself to teach us the truth, to be our Saviour, Mediator, and Redeemer. Yes, my bearers, we must confess, that our knowledge of Jesus has not always gained by the enlightening and cultivation of our reason; we must confess, that we do not always entertain that opinion of his union with the Godhead, and the divinity of his mission and his actions, which the dignity of his person and the authority of Scripture demand of us. Whence proceeds this injustice and coldness towards an ambassador of the Godhead, whom we know to be one of the noblest benefactors of the human rare, and who, considered only as man, as a guide and friend of virtue, merits our deep veneration and esteem? Is it then not possible to unite a regard for reason with love and reverence for Jesus? Is it folly and deception, which the Scripture teaches us of his close connexion with the Father, and of his divine mission to mankind? Is it then such a matter of indifference to our happiness, whether we know Jesus or not, and is the religion of reason; which our age so loudly proclaims and adopts, of itself sufficient to direct our weak virtue, to set our heart at rest respecting our past offences, and to fill us in the presence of death with strength, consolation, and contentment? I think it is due to my conviction, my duty, and yet more to the welfare of your immortal souls, distinctly and solemnly to negative these questions before you all. In order, therefore, to perceive the grounds of this conclusion, let us inquire together, How much the religion of reason gains by the conviction, that Jesus Christ was a divine ambassador.

This inquiry will give us occasion, 1st, to determine what is properly a divine ambassador; 2dly, to shew, that Jesus Christ possessed this dignity in the highest degree; and idly, to make it clear, how much our rational religion must gain by this conviction.

1st. Who is a true ambassador of God to man, and how can we distinguish him from an enthusiast and an impostor? The answer to this question, my dear hearers, is the first point which shall occupy our attention. If we look upon God as a wise and holy Father, who acquaints his children with his will and his decrees, not merely by means of nature and the experiences of life, not merely by reason and their conscience, but also by verbal instruction; then an ambassador of God will be a man, who is immediately called upon by the Almighty himself to announce to his brethren the commands and promises of God, and who by his various knowledge and his virtues, by his works and the effect of his labours, convinces his contemporaries and posterity of the divinity of his vocation. That God himself required him to appear as his ambassador among men, no one can know but he himself; for who is able to look into the depths of his heart, in which the pious sentiments of religion glow, as sacred flames on a solitary altar? Who is able, with corporeal sense, to perceive the spiritual voice of the Deity, which, as the still suggestion of conscience, unheard by human ears, makes known to him the commands and promises of the Eternal? No, my dear hearers, when an ambassador of God comes among men, he appears not, like the envoy of a monarch, in outward splendour or with earthly pomp; but with the aspect of a calm sage, whose heartfelt desire is to improve and to bless his brethren by a worthy adoration of the holy and all-gladdening Deity. Contemporaries and posterity, who would try the divinity of his office, will next judge of his talents and knowledge; they will inquire, if his mind possesses intrinsic strength to raise itself to worthy conceptions of God, and, avoiding superstition and fanaticism, to find the way to the truth; they will lastly subject his knowledge and information respecting God and religion to a close examination, will compare them with the most sacred thing known to man, with the decisions and requisitions of their conscience, and so ascertain and inwardly feel, whether his doctrine be of God. Still greater will be the attention paid to his heart and life.; they will go on the principle, that a messenger from God must necessarily distinguish himself by the strictest purity of morals, if he would become worthy of the love and the special commands of God; and although they can require of him no faultless and superhuman virtue, yet they may justly expect, that his soul shall be free from the dominion of every evil desire, and will therefore declare him to be a deceiver or deceived, if riches, sensuality, or ambition, have power to charm and to enthral his heart. Even in his social relations they may expect extraordinary and surprising actions from him, who gives himself out for a messenger of God; for although, even in the service of the Deity, he is still a man, who has no command aver nature, and much less can subvert it, or alter its everlasting and beneficial rotation; yet there is a variety of powers, partly unknown and hidden, both in and beyond the sphere of man, which the Ruler of the world can employ for the sudden healing of the sick or the awakening of the dead, and which he can permit to operate as the credentials of him whom he has sent.

; And that there may not be the smallest deceit or delusion in such an important concern, as the mission of one intimate with the Godhead, posterity has in its hands another particular touchstone of the truth, the success of his teaching, and his influence on the improvement and amelioration of mankind. For when the omniscient Ruler of the universe raises up to the human race an extraordinary ambassador and interpreter of his sacred will, he will also place him in a situation, where his exertions may be productive of good, where he may overcome the enemies of truth, and render a large portion of his brethren happy, by the blessings of religion. Behold here, beloved hearers, the extent and the distinguishing marks of an office, which rises indignity and elevation far above the office of the mightiest king and potentate; the distinguishing marks of one sent by the Godhead, who, endowed with mind and talents by the Deity himself, consecrated to virtue, accredited by extraordinary deeds, and recommended by the success of his labours, has this end in view, the great work of God upon earth, the improvement and happiness of man! We maintain that Jesus Christ, this Divine benefactor of our race, possessed that dignity in the highest degree; and we will endeavour to prove the truth of this assertion, under the second head of our contemplation.

Jesus Christ, dear hearers, is the highest messenger of God, who, as far as history informs us, ever appeared among men; for he combines in himself all the characters, with which reason marks this exalted dignity. I will not now appeal to the testimony which he so often delivers concerning himself,—“I have not spoken of myself, but the Father who sent me, he gave me a commandment what I should say and what I should speak

John xii. 49.

SERMON XIV.

ON THE HARVEST.

O GOD, Father of men, Father of all things in leaven and earth, thou openest thy bountiful hand without wearying, and finest and rejoicest and blessest all that live with good things. Thou hast this year also not left us without witness, but hast graciously given us what we need for our support. Thou hast preserved the fruits of the field by thy guardianship, and permitted us to gather them in in undisturbed tranquillity under the protection of peace. Thou halt again done great things for us, and by all thy gifts hast laid upon us the obligation to praise thee with emotion of soul. O then that our thanksgiving were not merely the work of the lips, but the effusion of the heart! that we perceived and felt what new and just claims thou hast acquired thereby on our love, our trust, and our obedience! that we might present to thee on this festive day an offering worthy of thee, agreeable to thy will and to our duty! Yes, to extol thy goodness, and revere the ways of thy Providence, to be contented, and not as dissatisfied creatures, not as guilty rioters in thy kingdom, to rebel against thy established regulations; to limit our wishes, and to enjoy with wise moderation, with a calm mind, in innocence and virtue, what thou bestowest on us; this becomes us as men and as Christians; let this therefore be our sincere resolution and our earnest endeavour. And let us be encouraged and strengthened thereto in the present hour, consecrated to thy worship, let us be forcibly reminded of it by the call which the harvest now addresses to us; let the fruits of the earth thereby become beneficial to our mind, beneficial with regard to our higher destination. Amen.

John iv. 35-38.

Say not ye, There are yet four months and then cometh harvest? behold I say unto you, Lift up your eyes and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal; that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together. And herein is that saying true; one soweth and another reapeth. I sent you to reap that whereon ye bestowed no labour; other men laboured, and ye are entered into their labours.

IF we did not behold the works of nature in our earliest childhood; if the view of its great and admired phenomena, following each other in regular succession, were not of common and daily occurrence if we entered the theatre of the creation at once as educated men with exercised and developed understandings, and sensitive and expanded hearts, what an impression would it not make upon us with what force would it strike upon our senses and our mind! with what irresistible power would it attract us, and rivet our attention! What a solemn tone of mind would the manifold scenes and changes’ in heaven and earth impart to us! How lively and ardent would be our sensations, how instructive and earnest our meditations, how devout and fervent our songs of praise offered up to the Deity! Yes, man can become indifferent to every thing, even to the greatest and most sublime object, when it has lost the charm of novelty and therefore we must carefully guard against our taste for the beauties of nature being gradually blunted; therefore we must never enter her fields without thought, but always as rational creatures, always as men and as Christians therefore we must open our ears to her voice, and consider it a sacred law thankfully to regard her warnings, her admonitions, and her sources of consolation.

And this is most especially applicable to the harvest, which calls to us every year, and reminds us of truths, the importance of which deserves the most serious regard. For these truths, if we rightly comprehend and faithfully follow them, are the real and lasting, the spiritual and moral profit, which we may draw from the earthly harvest. They are an encouragement to wisdom and virtue, and call to mind our destiny and our duties. They shew us our dignity and our weakness, our relationship with God and our dependence on him, what we may and what we may not expect. They have reference to objects, which must be highly important to us all, because they equally concern us all. For this reason we find also in so many places of the Bible allusions to the harvest, and images, comparisons, and expressions, which are taken from it. For this reason the Apostle says, “Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap;” in order to indicate, that the proportion between that which we sow and the fruits we gather, must point out to us the intimate connexion of the present life with the future. For this reason Jesus speaks in our text of a moral harvest, after his disciples had spoken of the natural one, and thereupon takes occasion to direct their thoughts to their high calling, and the honourable office committed to them. Your harvest, he gives them to understand, is now already ripe, and the field of truth and virtue awaits only the band of. the reaper, for others have laboured before you, and ye are chosen to complete the work. Go then into the field already white, that ye may receive your appointed wages, and gather fruit unto life eternal.

The remembrance of the harvest may prove full of instruction to us also; we also may find in it much that is encouraging and comforting, if we attend to the voice of the Lord, which speaks to us through it. Let us accordingly listen to its call to-day, the festival of the harvest; let us hear the important truths which it inculcates, and commit them to good and obedient hearts. It will then not be necessary for me particularly to prescribe to you the duties which this year’s harvest demands of you; it will itself, and so loudly speak to you, that it is to be hoped you will not refuse to obey its injunctions. The first important truth which the annual harvest inculcates for our instruction and encouragement is this; What cannot the activity of man perform? The activity of man—that indeed says much and little, according to the point of view, from which it is contemplated. For what is it, and what can it achieve, how little and insignificant it appears, when compared with the efficiency of God, whose power is infinite, and whose mere will is creation, whose mere will is preservation! with the efficiency of the Highest, who does all things from himself and by himself, and never can fail in his purpose, nor ever be fatigued! Yes, O man! when thou returnest from the thought of God and his greatness, when thy mind has been engaged in the contemplation of that perfect and adorable mind, which calls worlds into existence and governs worlds, then feel thy nothingness and thy impotence; then full of humility acknowledge with the Prophet, that mortal power, in respect of God, resembles but the drop which hangs on the bucket.

And nevertheless the activity of man, when measured. by a more humble standard, is very great, very manifold, very comprehensive; and nothing is more adapted to remind us of it, than the sight of the harvest. For who has tilled and cultivated the land? Who has tended and cherished it? Who has given it its present form, so suitable, so favourable to fertility? Who is it, whose hands assist nature, and still gain treasures even from the poorest soil? Who is it, that makes heights as well as depths habitable, beautifies the most waste places of the earth, transforms the wildest regions, and converts dismal inaccessible wildernesses into smiling plains and rich pastures? It is man who has done all this and continues to do it; man, who disregards all opposition and is deterred by no obstacle; man, who contends against all seasons; all elements, all influence of adverse circumstances, and by industry and perseverance generally attains his end. Yes, if we reflect, that our harvests are our work, and that we must multiply the productions of nature, in. proportion as population increases; if we reflect, that all the field and garden-fruits of our quarter of the globe are the produce of other remote climes, which could not be brought to us but over dangerous seas; if we reflect, what industry must have been employed, in order to make plants of this kind grow and flourish, even in countries where the land that should nourish them was often totally different from their mother-soil; we are furnished with an incontrovertible, and sensible proof, how true is that which the holy Scripture says; “God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him,” that he should “have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth;” in order to derive advantage and pleasure from every thing which surrounds him.

And still how little is all this activity of man! How little is all this in comparison with that, which, in other ways and in so many other respects, he has attempted and executed! What numerous fields of science, of art, of trade, of commerce, of industry, has he not cultivated, all of which required no small exertions! What difficulties were to be overcome, before our states, our civil constitutions, our school and education establishments, our domestic and social relations could attain the present, though but moderate degree of perfection! And yet all these various labours had not power to bind the indefatigable mortal to this earth; he has raised his searching look to the heaven also, measured its spaces, found the most distant suns, discovered the track of wandering stars, and determined the laws of their course; his artificially aided eye has carried him even beyond the bounds of the visible creation, and opened to him the prospect of new worlds, an access to the greater sanctuary of God. Respect then, O man, respect thyself and thy race, and discern what thou art and canst become. Honour the inestimable gift of reason, which the gracious Creator has bestowed on thee, and never in any case forget, that the excellence of thy nature rests upon that alone. For without it thou wouldest be the weakest and most wretched of all the creatures of the earth, and destitute of all means of preservation, all weapons for thy defence, and all instruments of thy pleasure. Without it thy activity would be blind and without rule to guide it, and the sight of fruits grown by thyself, the enjoyment of the finest plants, and the blessing of the harvest, would not delight thee.

But much as the industry of man is able to perform, yet have we little cause to be proud, and to consider ourselves the sole authors of our successful works. No, we attain with all our labour only that, which it is permitted to us from above to attain and on this point also the harvest may afford us an excellent lesson, if we attend to its instruction. For it loudly and audibly cries to us, in the second place, It is God; who must make every good thing to prosper. We cultivate and appoint the land, we sow and plant, we nourish the soil to which we have entrusted our hope but he alone can fulfil this hope; he alone can give growth and fertility, sunshine and warmth, early and late rain in their season; he alone can faithfully and annually guard the harvest from injury. We have no power against wind and weather, against the devastations of destroying insects, against all the accidents which may deprive our fields and gardens of their beauty and abundance. If he shut up the bosom of the earth, if the faint and parched land languish in vain for refreshment, if the swollen clouds burst asunder and desolating torrents drown the seed, if unseasonable frost or scorching heat, noxious moisture, or crushing hail, disappoint our fairest expectations; it is to no purpose that we exert all our judgment, and unite all our powers to produce a contrary effect. For we may indeed assist nature, but not change its fixed course, its eternal laws. We may learn much from it to our advantage, but cannot escape from its power and dominion. We may follow its track and avail ourselves of its hints, but not absolutely make it subservient to our wishes. It is therefore God, the Lord of nature, to whom we are in subjection; it is God, who must bless that which is sown, protect our fields, and cause the fruits of the earth to thrive.

And it is just the same, my Christian hearers, in the moral world also, with every undertaking of man that is good and of general utility. They sow and plant, they form plans and concert measures, they prepare and begin the work; but the issue of their labours is not in their own hand, but in the hand of the Highest. They often think they have considered every thing most carefully, arranged every thing in the best manner, and exactly calculated every thing, even to the smallest circumstances, and yet see their designs thus or thus frustrated. They enter into alliances, they impart to each other of their courage, their strength, their acquirements, their abundance; they act with foresight, with prudence, with firmness, with public spirit, and yet fail; in their purposes. But this is the lot of mortals, and no wisdom can protect us against it, no virtue raise us above it. As many good, as evil, acts are unsuccessful; as many beneficial, as pernicious attempts; as many intentions of benevolence as of wickedness. For if the Supreme Being has determined otherwise; if that, which appears to short-sighted man as most necessary and most useful, is in reality not of that nature; if the world is not yet ripe for the reception and enjoyment of certain benefits, if our ways are not as the ways of God and our thoughts are not his thoughts; then his inscrutable judgments frustrate our doings, and no industry, no exertion, no perseverance, no sacrifices are effectual to bring us to the desired end of our labours. We have in such cases the merit of a good will and an honest heart, we have performed our duty and may console ourselves with the applause of our consciences; but God alone guides our fate, and we must acquiesce in his dispensations, in whatever his unsearchable counsels promote or impede, facilitate or obstruct.

Yes, all things, O man! all things depend on God and his providence, on his guidance and government; and as he sends fruitfulness and scarcity, he sends also prosperity and adversity, light and darkness, peace and war, times of tranquillity and times of disturbance. As the inanimate creation obeys him, and every element executes his commands, he has also mankind and all their hearts, all their thoughts, all their energies, all their treasures in his power, and makes use of them according to his pleasure. We forget this but too easily, and let it surprise us, when wishes are unsuccessful for what we esteem highly salutary and profitable; we far too willingly believe, that God, who only wills what is good and always that which is best, must by all means will that, which we ourselves hold to be so but remember, O dejected one, remember the course of nature, and behold its now plentiful, now deficient harvests, and learn from them, that it is God who must make all which is good to prosper, if success shall attend it.

And well it is for us, Christians, that it is God! Happy are we, that with our wants and hopes we do not depend on ourselves, on our limited understandings, on our variable wills! Happy we, that we stand under the inspection of him, who overlooks the whole, and best knows what is good for us! He denies us perhaps much which we think desirable, and sends us much that we would willingly have been spared; but he has also (and this is the third important instruction which the harvest makes evident to us) he has also provided, that there shall be seasons of gladness, seasons of reward and encouragement, for all orders and classes of the people. For every harvest that does not entirely fail is such a season to the countryman, who then celebrates his brightest and most festive days. Is he, what according to the will of God and his destination he ought to be, a free man and not degraded by bondage? does he labour for himself and his family, and not for a hard, self-interested tyrant, who unfeelingly oppresses and cruelly ill-treats him? does he live in a state, where he enjoys equal rights, equal security, equal protection with the other citizens and subjects, and may trust in the support of the laws and the reigning prince? such an one feels indemnified by the gifts of the harvest for all his previous trouble, and enjoys the remuneration for his exertion, the fruits of his toil and his laborious calling. Hence the loud acclamation, with which the produce of the field is received and collected, hence the stirring activity with which the whole business is carried on, hence the universal satisfaction with which all is concluded. For this reason the Prophet says, “They joy before thee according to the joy in harvest

Isaiah ix. 3.

SERMON XV.

AUTUMN—A PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE.

GREAT and striking, my Christian hearers, is the variety of human opinions respecting the real signification and worth of the life of man; and the human character displays itself in the manner and light, in which life is accustomed to be viewed: It commonly never enters into the mind of an inconsiderate, thoughtless person, to propose the serious question, whether this life possesses any value, and what should be its aim? Yielding to the impulse of the present, absorbed in trifling cares, enchained by the diversions of the world, he fancies he adopts the best method, when he leaves his resolutions and actions to be determined by the moment; he will not be reminded of the future portion of his life, nor of the connexion of the whole, he will not be disturbed in his ease, nor torn from the slumber of his idleness. The worldly wise man, instructed by certain experience, but ruled by an earthly propensity, by some passion or other, strikes out for himself a plan of life, contemplates it frequently in all its parts, and fixes a value on it. But his contrivances and exertions are directed to what is vain and transient; the more plentifully the fountain of sensual enjoyment flows, the more the world offers him of its treasures, the more willingly all things near and around him accord with his ambitious plans and projects, so much the higher he estimates the worth of life, but any thing sublime and great in existence he has no idea of. The abandoned wretch, tortured by the consciousness of evil deeds, or the discontented and sorrowing being, who cannot raise himself with genuine religious disposition above the disappointments and woes of earth, despises life as a vain labour, as an illusory phantom, as an inconsequential exertion, as a burden which weighs one down from the cradle to the grave. Shall this be our view, my hearers, who call ourselves the redeemed of Jesus and enlightened by his Spirit? Or is it Christian duty and Christian sentiment, with all our sense of the imperfections of this mortal life, nevertheless, to embrace it with an affection, a cheerfulness, a regard, which is grounded on a true and worthy conception of its value, and its sacred destination for eternity? We assuredly know, as Christians, how we ought to contemplate life, for he himself, the “Founder and Finisher of our faith,” has brought to light the true life that fadeth not away. But we are also at all times, and in all places, reminded and strongly urged by manifold appearances and changes around us firmly to maintain a wise and refined, a pious and Christian view of human life. For certainly the earthly creation around and before us, like a temple of God, is open to us, not merely that we should with sincere joy perceive the beauty of nature; not merely that we should feed the eye with the sight of its moving life, its varying forms, its nameless magnificence; we should also perceive the voice of the Eternal, as it resounds, holy and awful, in the temple of nature; we should with a collected mind behold what is invisible in that which is visible: Serious and important is the aspect of nature, if we regard the spirit which its works reveal, the connexion which, out of individual forms and appearances of the exterior world, composes a wonderful whole, and the instructions, hopes, and feelings, with which the creation of the Eternal illumines and penetrates the inquiring mind. In its everlasting order the life of man, in its highest signification, is represented. And now the fleeting course of the year invites us to a grave, an affecting, an elevating, to a truly Christian contemplation of our life. For, in fact, my hearers, the renewed impression which the falling leaf, the fading splendour of the flowers, the desolate field, the diminishing light of day, the sight of fruits, which here are collected in rich abundance, and there are advancing to maturity; the impression which all this makes upon the mind, is not the only and highest consideration, which nature in its autumnal dress should present to us. Autumn points to something spiritual and invisible in this fading away and departing,. in this ripening and growing to maturity, in this wonderful mixture of death and life. It teaches us, in significant images, so to contemplate the life of earth, as a Christian must contemplate it. Let us observe them more closely; and do thou thyself enlighten us, Lord of our life, that we may comprehend and keep the serious language of nature, thy word, O Infinite, in thy creation.

1 Peter i. 24, 25.

For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth and the flower thereof falleth away: But the word of the Lord endureth for ever: And this is the word which by the Gospel is preached unto you.

THE grass withereth, the flower fadeth! This observation we also make, when we see the moving, flourishing life of nature gradually disappear. And can we see this life disappear, without thinking of the transitoriness of every thing earthly, without melancholy and serious, but at the same time highly elevating, contemplations on the dignity, the course, and the end of the life of man? May then the autumn, as an instructive picture of terrestrial life, now occupy our attention

First. Transient and fleeting is earthly existence, its outward charms vanish, and a limit is placed to its duration; this is the first thing, of which nature in its autumnal garment admonishes us. The spring adorns our earth with a thousand various charms, and the warm summer matures the magnificence, the life, and the richness of nature. A bright variety of colours is unfolded to the eye, the blooming tree scatters fragrance around, the seeds are clothed in youthful green, the flower glitters in its gay hues, and speaks to us the expressive words of the Redeemer, “I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these

Matt. vi. 29.

SERMON XVI.

FOR CHRISTMAS.

WE are come, O Father in heaven, to adore, and to pour out our thankful hearts before thy holy presence. For that thy only begotten Son came into this world, that he took upon him our flesh and blood, and “was found in fashion as a man,” in order to diffuse light and truth amongst his brethren on earth—this is the dispensation of thy companionate grace for our benefit. Make us rightly to discern his heavenly greatness and glory, and bring before our eyes in the purest splendour the sublime and. radiant form,. in which he walked on this dark earth, that our souls may be filled with true Christian joy on his holy festival, and that our mouths may glorify him. “The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.” In this joy we name thee with increased fervour our heavenly Father, and pray, “Hallowed be thy name,” &c. &c.

SERMON XVII.

THE SPIRITUAL KINGDOM OF CHRIST.

John xviii. 36.

Jesus answered, My kingdom is not of this world.

MY devout hearers! as long as Jesus, our Lord, lived on the earth, the erroneous opinion was constantly entertained by his disciples, that he would establish an earthly kingdom, and that they would rule in it together with him. This supposition, according to their Jewish prejudices, was so intimately interwoven with their hope of a deliverer of Israel, that neither the lowliness and unassuming humility of our Saviour’s life, nor the nature of his doctrines and precepts, could entirely divest them of it. Jesus bore this weakness also of his chosen witnesses with patience. He knew that hereafter they would have quite different notions of the object of his mission, and that the trust they reposed in him would purify them from all hopes of an earthly sovereignty, which they still so much cherished. And especially the event, of which they were witnesses soon after his resurrection, must have this effect. By his removal from the earth their thoughts and hopes must now at once receive another direction. Other and higher expectations must arise, since he whom they honoured as their Master had quitted the earth.

A similar effect must the remembrance of the ascension of our Saviour produce in us all. And since the dominion of Jesus is still in various ways assimilated to an earthly dominion, I will endeavour on this Festival to skew how little there is in common between them. The words of the text afford the best guide on this occasion. They contain the answer, which our Saviour gave to his judge Pilate, when he had questioned him, if he were the King of the Jews. Jesus replied, that he certainly was the head of a kingdom, but that this kingdom was of quite another nature and quality from that of earthly empires. “My kingdom is not of this world;” and he immediately adds a proof, which might convince the Roman governor, that he had never aimed at obtaining an earthly sovereignty: “If my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews, but now is my kingdom not from hence.” Of what kind is it then? What power, what dominion, what government is it, which was allotted to Jesus Christ by the will of God? and which he has also acquired, and possesses, and will maintain even to the end of the world? How does he reign? And who are his subjects and members of his kingdom? And to what laws are they subject under his sceptre? And what may they expect and hope of him and through him? These are certainly very important questions for us who own the name of Jesus! Let us turn our attention to them to-day, and if we, in the first place, shall have formed a just idea of the nature of the kingdom of Christ, let us, secondly, take to heart the instructions as well as the consolations to be derived from it.

First: When Jesus our Saviour speaks of a kingdom, of which he is the supreme head and ruler, every one at once understands, that he possesses a befitting power and government, and that he must have subjects, who are governed by his authority. But when he immediately adds, that this kingdom is not of this world, that therefore it has no resemblance to worldly dignity and sovereignty; we learn, that we have here to understand only a spiritual power and government. In a spiritual sense we may justly ascribe a kingdom to him, who rules even over souls, who by the benefits which he conferred, the knowledge which he communicated, the sentiments which he inspired, the hopes which he awakened and fulfilled, has erected a throne in the heart itself. Has he acquired gratitude, willing obedience, and unlimited confidence; are his laws executed, not from compulsion and fear, but from conviction and experience that they are wise, kind, and benevolent laws; and are there countless numbers who belong to him, who are inwardly ruled by him, who live to his honour and according to his will, and suffer and die in reliance on him? O then he has undoubtedly a kingdom; and such an inward and spiritual kingdom has Jesus established. How has he established it? The kingdoms of this world are usually founded by force of arms, the servants of those who aspire to them fight for this end; not so the kingdom of Jesus; that is founded only by a spiritual power, by the force of truth, justice, and love. Jesus taught to know, to love, and to worship God the Father of men; he proclaimed mercy and forgiveness, and assured us of the providence of God, of his assistance to do what is right, of his never-forsaking love; he “brought life and immortality to light,” he “went about doing good,” he called sinners to repentance; he delivered us from the most terrible enemies of human peace and happiness, from ignorance, superstition, the dominion of sinful appetites, the sting of conscience, and the fear of death. He came, not to rule as a worldly prince, but “to seek and to save that which was lost.” And that he did in humility, in meekness, in self-denial, in abasement. It was not for him “to be ministered unto, but to minister,” and to sacrifice his life itself in these most beneficent services. He gave himself willingly up to the atoning death, through which, by the. decree of God, men should be blessed with heavenly and eternal felicity. And thus he founded his kingdom by good deeds, and by shedding his blood on the cross. Nor is it his purpose that it should ever be extended but by the force of truth and by the preaching of faith in him. For this reason he chose inconsiderable, mean, and poor men to be his Apostles. They were constrained to go abroad in the world through persecution and distress, and to preach him, the Crucified, and by this preaching to win hearts, and collect subjects for him out of all nations of the globe. The arms, which they were to use, were not fleshly, but spiritual, namely, a demonstration of the truth on the consciences of men, a power of God, before which all human power must bend, the voice of his word, the working of his Spirit. Now as the kingdom of Christ was not of this world in respect to the means by which it was founded, so also it differs entirely from the kingdoms of this world in its inward properties, Here is no external sway and government, here no pomp and splendour strikes the eye, here are no bounds confined by space and time, here are no worldly claims and contentions, here are no laws influencing only the outward actions, no earthly rewards, no corporeal punishments. This kingdom comes not with exterior features, not with audible noise, not with visible signs—it is in you, says our Redeemer, it is in the invisible region of your thoughts, your inclinations, your sentiments. Where faith, where godliness, where love, where peace and joy in the Holy Ghost operate, there is the kingdom of Christ; renew thine heart and live according to the instruction of Jesus, repent and believe the Gospel, and thou becomest a subject of this kingdom. The laws, which are there in force, regard not this or that outward work, they require purity of heart, pious dispositions, and an unstained conscience; the good things which are there offered and enjoyed, are spiritual good things, forgiveness of sins, peace of mind, hope in God, which never disappoints; the protection to be expected from it is not a protection against bodily enemies; it is a safeguard against that which is injurious to the internal welfare of our immortal soul. The whole design of this supremacy of Jesus is not that we should enjoy temporal prosperity in this world, possess riches, acquire earthly honours, and indulge our sensual desires. No, devout friends 1 there is a higher purpose, a nobler aim, namely, that it should go well with our souls, that we may become reformed servants of God, men willing and active in the practice of all which is right and good, and as such worthy to attain a better world. Of this description is the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. It is not of this world, neither in its origin, nor in its laws, nor in its object, nor in its happiness. It is a kingdom of truth, of righteousness, of love, and blessedness.

On that very account it has nothing to do with the kingdoms of the world; it is not in the least detrimental to their institutions and rights: is no obstacle to them, it contends not with them, it never injures them; it rather consolidates them, since it makes good and faithful subjects, who are willingly obedient to temporal authority for conscience sake, and gladly promote all its just designs by integrity in their vocation and by prayer. But if such is the nature of the kingdom of Christ, my devout hearers, then is the empire of our Saviour partly far more glorious, partly far more extensive, and partly far more lasting, than any empire of this world. It is in the first place more glorious. For what sovereignty can be compared in dignity and excellence with that which extends even over the souls of men? In that not merely external order and tranquillity, but internal improvement and everlasting happiness are considered: it is more glorious, for it is founded on truth and grace alone, and has the same laws, the same object with the all-wise government of God himself. It is, secondly, more extensive than a kingdom of this world. This is always limited to a certain people, and to a very small part of the globe. Not so the kingdom of Christ; that is not confined to a particular nation, or a particular country; but in every nation, he that will fear God and do righteously may become a subject of it. No earthly distinctions exclude from it. All may be happy under His sceptre, who is exalted to be Lord over all. The light of the Gospel can illumine all regions of the earth will its beneficial beams; it is also certainly destined by God to be diffused more widely and to shine more unobstructedly, as a guide to human souls on the way to heaven.

What a countless number of those, who, as subjects of the kingdom of Christ, have already come to God and to salvation, and of those who shall still come till the end of time! St. John saw them in the spirit; “a great multitude which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes and palms in their hands.” Yet the kingdom of Christ is, thirdly, also more lasting than any kingdom of this world. The empires of this world cease after a certain period, however mighty they may be; and if they nominally continue to exist, yet death, which removes both kings and subjects, puts an end to the subjection of the one and the dominion of the other. But the spiritual kingdom of Christ endures from generation to generation, the truth which he taught, the merit which he won, remains, and lasts for ever. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but not his words. Death has no power over him and his government; for he lives, and they that are his shall also live. Death cannot separate them from him: “of his kingdom there shall be no end.”

Let us now contemplate, in the second place, some of the instructions and consolations, which the fact, that the kingdom of Jesus has this spiritual quality, points to our notice.

The first instruction, my devout hearers, to which we will attend, is this: if the kingdom of Christ is not of this world, it can never be enlarged by those means, by which earthly empires acquire strength and increase. Here no power, no wealth, no bodily Constraint can have the smallest influence. Here nothing can be forcibly effected by orders, threats, or penalties. In the kingdom of Christ, as we have seen, the necessary qualifications are faith, piety, and regard to the truth. But these depend not on worldly power and human artifice. Faith admits of no compulsion; force of arms will not make way for truth, nor procure its admission into the soul. As often, therefore, as men have sought to extend the kingdom of Christ by persecution and violence, they have confounded it with a worldly kingdom, they have not known or would not know its real nature. Men have been more studious to found or to preserve an earthly sovereignty, than to gain subjects for God and Jesus. To teach, to admonish, to bring the word of God near to the understanding and the heart, that is the only thing, except a good example, which men can and ought to do for the propagation of the true religion. Where is worldly sway and command, there is an earthly kingdom of God, not the gentle, secret, spiritual dominion of Jesus. As the latter cannot be spread abroad by worldly power, so neither can it be assaulted and destroyed by force and violence. And that is a very great consolation for all sincere Christians. The trial has been made; men have attacked and sought to subvert Christ’s kingdom with temporal weapons, as if it were an earthly supremacy; authorities have raised up their powers against it; imprisonment and torture, fire and sword have opposed the dominion of Jesus. But with what little success! As convictions and sentiments cannot be imparted by force, so neither can they be taken away by force. No threats, no torments, can stop the truth in its progress. What is visible cannot reach what is invisible, and therefore cannot injure it. The kingdom of Christ lies in a territory, into which no human power can penetrate. Thus experience has also shewn that all the persecutions, which Christians have suffered, have not occasioned the least detriment to the kingdom of the Redeemer. Not only has this kingdom remained immoveably firm, but it has internally strengthened itself under all the afflictions which the eternal church has undergone. The blood of so many thousand martyrs has not extinguished the light of faith and the flame of love towards Jesus, but has rather made it brighter and stronger. From hence we learn how secure; we may be, should it please Providence again to try and to purify the congregation of the Lord by persecutions and by sorrows, and should all the mighty of the earth unite to extirpate Christianity. For this they are far too weak. We shall have nothing to fear from all their aggressions. Not thus will Christ’s throne be shaken, not thus will it be subverted. Then only will it be shaken, when a teacher appears upon earth, who brings from heaven yet more salutary truth to men, than Jesus; a benefactor, who will do still more for them than he did; a succourer, who will labour for the salvation and happiness of sinners, with more entire devotedness and with greater love, than he laboured. Then might they who inquire after truth, and thirst after righteousness, turn to him, who rules with more wisdom and goodness, and in whose kingdom more peace of mind, more trust in God, more incitement to do good, more blessedness is to be found. But as that never can and never will happen, O, then, we need never apprehend, that men who can do nothing against God, will ever destroy a kingdom which he has founded.

But I pass on to a second lesson of instruction to be drawn from this truth. Christ’s kingdom is not of this world; we then, as subjects of it, have not to expect worldly felicity. That is, we cannot promise ourselves, that we shall be freed from temporal evil and inconvenience, because we are Christians, or that we shall attain to earthly honour, earthly riches, or earthly prosperity. Affliction and need are so far from a proof that a man is not a good subject of Christ, that the Redeemer has distinctly warned his first disciples, that they must be prepared to endure them under his government. “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” Good days, such as the world desires, he has not promised. He himself had none: how can we demand them? I do not mean to say by this, that an upright Christian cannot also be prosperous in what relates to the body; but merely, that he ought not to consider and desire this well-being as a blessing of the kingdom of Christ, and that it must not surprise him, if he is obliged to go through many sorrows and troubles.

To strive after temporal happiness alone in the way of piety and virtue, to seek earthly felicity in this path, is to lower the kingdom of Christ to a kingdom of this world. Christ promises and gives his subjects other and better gifts. He promises and gives them a glad consciousness of the grace of God, a serene contented heart, a pure unstained conscience, a soul full of philanthropy, full of patience, full of resignation to all the decrees of Providence, full of hope in a superior everlasting happiness in heaven. Are you blest with these good things? Then you will bear the want of all worldly prosperity without envy and without pain, nor will you think or say, on account of any sufferings which you may have to sustain, that as servants of your Redeemer you are not blessed, infinitely blessed. You will not, like the disciples, ask. with worldly-minded views, “Lord, what shall we have if we follow thee, adhere to thee, and submit ourselves to thy laws?” For you possess the most inestimable good,—an honest heart, and the assurance that nothing can separate you from the love. of your God, and from the bliss to which he has called you. But lastly, my brethren, the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. It rests, therefore, on the obedience and fidelity which we have to shew as subjects of this kingdom, and not on eye-service, not on bodily exercises, not on outward works. All this has its value in the governments of the world, where the wisest ruler cannot see the heart, cannot search the thoughts. But in the kingdom of Jesus all should be mind and life; here the heart itself, not this or that work, is required. Here, therefore, no name is valued, no church communion, no forms of devotion, no worship of the lips, no cry of ‘Lord, Lord,’ no baptism and Lord’s supper, no penance, prayers, and fasting. All this is worthless if thy heart is not concerned. Let not this be thought a hard saying, for the Scripture declares it, and the nature of the spiritual kingdom of Jesus confirms it. Nothing avails, it is expressly said, but a new creature in Christ Jesus. But what is that, a new creature? It is a heart cleansed by a change of disposition, and sanctified by faith. That first makes us good subjects of our exalted Mediator; that gives to all our adorations and good works their true Christian worth.

May we, then, make a particular application of all these considerations; that we may try ourselves with impartiality, whether we belong to those who can sincerely rejoice and confide in the quality and advantages of the glorious kingdom of our blessed Redeemer. Let every one of us take those resolutions before God, to which he shall be instigated by this examination. I will only add this single representation: How must they who do not wilfully rebel against him, whom God has made both Lord and Saviour, how must they be impelled to do homage to him, with their whole soul, and to devote themselves entirely to his service, when they are mindful what a sacred right he has acquired to their love, their obedience, and their eternal gratitude, by his sufferings and his death! Has he not purchased us at an immense price to be his property? Can we think of his sorrows and his death on the cross, can we, especially, celebrate the solemn and affecting memorial of his love in the Lord’s supper, and not form this resolution? Yes, I will live unto him who died for me, I will take his instructions for my law, his Spirit for my guide, his conduct in life for my pattern. I will be so minded as he was; neither sin, nor my own corrupt will, nor the estimation and example of men, nor the world and its pleasures shall henceforth have dominion over me. He alone, to whom I entirely belong, shall live and reign in me. Let us keep this holy festival with these thoughts and resolutions. Let thanksgiving and joy fill our souls, that our Saviour has not established a kingdom of this world, that we, as redeemed by him, are subjects of a better and more lasting kingdom; and let our most zealous diligence be exerted, that we may not forfeit the blessedness of this kingdom. An apostle thus warned the first Christians, and with this admonition I will conclude: “Brethren, give diligence to make your calling and election sure, for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall; for so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.” Amen.

SERMON XVIII.

THE MEMORY OF THE EARTHLY SUFFERINGS OF OUR DEPARTED FRIENDS.

IT appears a strange result of experience, my brethren, that notwithstanding the natural repugnance of human nature to pain and mourning, many purposely nourish, often for years, not unfrequently during their whole life, the very bitterest grief,—lamentation for the dead whom they loved. Whilst their hearts in general struggle against melancholy sensations, they are ever tearing open these old wounds afresh, and they studiously cherish their remembrance of those loved ones, whom no longing nor complaining can recal. It is true, such recollections must necessarily be often involuntarily awakened. Connexions, which formed our happiness in life, father and mother, who prepared for us the first refreshing tokens of love on earth; benefactors and friends, who had a favourable influence on our destiny, and acquired the strongest claims to our gratitude; dear children, who opened to us bright hopes of the future; it seems scarcely possible to forget these: and had they not raised a lasting monument in our hearts, the visible world, and what passes immediately around us, will be sufficient to remind us at times, and renew our remembrance of them.

But in the mean time the apparent contradiction in our experience is not yet explained; because certainly the better sort of persons are not carried away by the blind force of natural affections, nor by the changes of external appearances, but even here are masters over themselves, and act according to their own choice and determination. They do not leave it to the chance, that a passing thought of their dear deceased may arise; they rather purposely invoke it, and study to retain a lively impression in their minds. The picture that they set up in their daily-place of abode, the predilection with which they frequent places that were once witnesses of their happiness, the anxious care with which they preserve and guard any precious gift; the deep feeling with. which they repeatedly visit the grave, as a holy place, and the pleasant decoration of flowers, with which, full of tender affection, they distinguish it; all this forbids us to doubt, that they will not extirpate their melancholy; much as their hearts may be opposed to it, they purposely maintain their grief wakeful and vivid. But this experience, if closely examined, bears in itself, my friends, the solution of the apparent contradiction. It makes it, namely, incontrovertibly certain, that these repeated reminiscences of the departed, notwithstanding the melancholy which they renew, cannot be afflicting, but must have in them something very pleasing and grateful. For that it is possible to suppress them, and when they are involuntarily obtruded, to banish them again, we learn from many a living example. There are children of the world in plenty, who know how to indemnify. themselves for domestic solitude, in the, diversions of life, to comfort themselves after the most painful loss in the diminution of their cares, or even quickly to forget their severed alliances in the charms of new connexions. That which is removed out of sight, is soon absent from the mind. Their. volatile unsteady tempers cannot be fixed; their hearts cannot be moved; deep and lasting affections of the mind are foreign to them; they view the seriousness of life as their enemy, and employ all means to drive it from them; and should they be compelled to go to the burial-place itself, they would leave it without being more deeply impressed, and perhaps would succeed the very next hour in laughing away the superficial emotion. Better men justly scorn such worldly-mindedness, as unworthy, and such conduct may appear to feeling affectionate souls quite inexplicable. But still they are men, and cannot as such naturally like pain. The melancholy which they entertain and cherish, must be sweet, must be of a pleasing nature. Agreeable recollections of the past, views full of hope of a glorious futurity, a blissful foretaste of heaven, mix with his painful remembrances, and impart to them the most refreshing consolation for the gloomy present.

What the world calls pleasure, is not, in general, an object of their desire. Their’s rests with their beloved in the grave. Their mind has become more heavenly, their faith more lively, their hope firmer through their loss. Because they gain much for this higher aim of their mind and heart by thinking of the deceased, they, therefore, often and cordially renew their remembrance. And thus is the experience above spoken of completely explained. Yes, it is exactly the most painful recollections which here most strikingly prove their beneficial power. A true blessing on our spiritual life is to be gained by the remembrance of the earthly sorrows of our glorified friends. Our attention is drawn to-day to this truth. Let it be a sacred employment to us to consider it devoutly. May the God of all comfort give peace to our minds, that the voice of his truth may resound, and good resolutions be matured amongst us!

SERMON XIX.

THE ENDOWMENTS, INFIRMITIES, AND DUTIES OF MAN.

ETERNAL GOD! Creator and Lord! adored by all heavenly spirits, glorified by all people! With delight my soul praises thee, for thou art the first and the last, thou art the supreme good, and to thy creatures thou art love. Every morning telleth the evening, and one day telleth another, how adorable thou art in thy infinite power and love! My heart feels blest in thee, thou most gracious, who hast given life and joy to all from the fulness of thine everlasting inexhaustible might. To thy throne ascends my warm thanksgiving, that thou hast called me forth from the night of non-existence into the light of life, that thou hast given me ability to discern thee and thy glorious temple, the universe, to admire thee and thy works in their grandeur, and to love thee, the source of all life, and to be blessed in this love. O how I thank thee, that thou hast made me man, man after thine own image! Eternal God because I know thee, so will I also live in thee, seek my happiness in thee, and expect and intreat the bliss of my existence, both on this side and beyond the grave, from thee. Our requests are known to thee, O Omniscient, before the lips utter them. Thou hast permitted us to pray to thee. We implore thee, therefore, with filial trust. Bless, O fountain of all salvation, bless all our fellow-creatures, from the high throne even to the meanest but! Grant to them all, to feel in its fullest value the happiness of being men, who know, love, and honour thee; grant them to live worthy of their destination, willingly to obey thy sacred laws, and whilst they become ripe for death, to be at the same time ripe for the glory of a better world. But, O my Father, train me up through joy and pain, through prosperity and adversity, through hope and fear, as it may seem good to thy wisdom. Let me but know thy truth and revere it, love thy holy law and obey it, rejoice in thy hope and grow worthy of it. Do thou thyself sanctify my heart, O God, and let my life be a continual exercise in the way of perfection. Let it be without honour in the eyes of the world, so that it be but worthy in thy sight. Let it be wanting in greatness and in fame, so that it be not without profit to my fellow men. I ask not of thee honour nor riches, greatness nor power; but deny me not a share in the happiness of the wise and good. Remove from my heart all intemperate wishes for external advantages and enjoyments, which so often do not make us happier, but entice our easily seduced heart from the path of virtue. Thy creature supplicates thee, O Father of life, only for content and serenity, for wisdom and virtue, for tranquillity and peace of mind. Refuse me not these good things, and lead me and all men to the knowledge of thy love, to faith in thy word, to the hope of the quiet mansions of the perfected in thy heavenly kingdom. Whither he, whom thou halt sent to be the guide of our souls into life, Jesus Christ, points out the way; with whose words we further pray, Our Father, &c.

Matthew viii. 5-13.

And when Jesus was entered into Capernaum, there came unto him a Centurion beseeching him, and saying, Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, grievously tormented. And Jesus saith unto him, I will come and heal him. The Centurion answered and said, Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof; but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed: for I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me, &c.

BY what sentiments the philanthropic warrior, recorded by our Gospel, was animated, what moved him to go even to Jesus, and thus urgently to implore aid for his sick servant, he himself expresses with the words, ‘I am a man.’ He felt as a man, he knew that the servant, although much beneath him in circumstances, was yet a fellow man, and that he, although having a command over many, was still as dependent on the assistance and love of others as the meanest of those who were under him. O that every one among us resembled this worthy soldier! that the consideration, ‘I am a man,’ might constantly accompany every one in the path of his earthly life! For this thought reminds us of the endowments, the weaknesses, the dependance, and the end of humanity. The consideration, ‘I am a man,’ tells us, 1st That we possess the natural endowments of human nature, that we and all men bear about us the image of the Creator; that we also possess reason, that ornament of the human race, and moral liberty; that noble property of the human soul, and a feeling heart, that source of the higher degrees of human happiness; that we are also endued with qualities, which impart to man his superior dignity; that we and all men have the high calling to become wise, good, and happy. This reflection, felt in a lively manner, will be a powerful encouragement to us, never to forget the Man in ourselves and others in the fortuitous outward relations of life, but to treat with respect, and to cultivate with care, what is human in ourselves and others. When the king, delighting in his crown and the splendour of his throne, the man of rank in his dignity, the mighty man in his power, the favoured man in the sense of his outward distinctions, the rich man in his abundance; when these forget the man in themselves, when they know nothing higher, and honour nothing more, than the advantages of their station, their birth, their circumstances, their prosperity; O then may they remember the saying of the good centurion, ‘I am a man;’ then may they feel in these words, that they are not merely kings, lords, magistrates, great, rich, and distinguished in external relations, but also men; that they first were men, and that the being man is the brightest ornament of our race. Then they will acknowledge that the first care of man should be to aspire to bear the name of man with honour, and that this is only done, when the natural endowments of the human race are cultivated in themselves to perfection; then they will acquire strength of mind, that they may not be enticed by the riches, the possessions, the honours, the occupations and advantages of their outward condition, to lead an unworthy life opposed to the destination of man. But when one prides himself on his exterior casual advantages, and does not honour the man in others; when the monarch, instead of being the father and defender of his people, uses his power as an instrument to gratify his passions; when the man of rank, instead of protecting his humbler brethren, treats them with scorn; when the rich man, instead of being a benefactor to his poorer fellow-creatures, is severe, unkind, and haughty towards them, and oppresses the indigent in order to indulge his covetousness; then might resound in their ears the words, I am a man! a man like my humble and necessitous brethren, who have the same godlike powers, the same eternal destiny as myself. And should not this reflection prove of the greatest force in urging us to humility, justice, charity and benevolence? Should it not manifest to every one, that we honour ourselves when we respect the endowments of human nature in Others; but that we pro, Pounce sentence against ourselves, when we despise the man in our fellow-creatures? In the same manner let the lowly, the inferior, the weak, the poor man often address to himself the reflection, ‘Thou art a man, and partakest of the natural endowments of man;’ for he will thereby be reminded of his divine destination, and respect himself in his lowliness, so that, if outward honour be wanting, he may not dishonour himself as man. But whoever thinks that it does not degrade him to manifest base propensities, because he lives in a low condition; whoever is not ashamed of deceit and fraud, of stealing and lying, because he has no external honour in civil society; whoever indulges in curses, lasciviousness, drunkenness, rudeness, and in rough behaviour, because he does not belong to the well-educated orders of the state, let him say to himself, Thou art a man! thou sharest in the natural endowments of man as well as the highest and mightiest; thou also shouldest become wise, virtuous, and like unto God.

Although thou art not in high honour before the world, yet art thou honoured as man in the sight of God; and thou shouldest not, by a bad life, degrade thyself and lose thy worth as a human being. But this consideration will arm him, who is placed in unfavourable outward circumstances, most surely against that envy and ill-will, with which the mean man so often views the advantages of his superior, the poor the abundance of the rich, and he who has no influence, the power of the mighty. Every one must, indeed, be aware, that these external advantages cannot be common to all, because in that case they would cease to be advantages, and that their existence is altogether unavoidable, because the welfare and order of society absolutely require them. But the thought, ‘I am a man, I enjoy human endowments as well as the highest and most learned,’ affords him a higher degree of satisfaction; for these endowments are the most important, they alone are imperishable, whilst every thing external is subject to change; they alone lay the foundation of our happiness here and in eternity, whilst outward advantages are so frequently an ever-flowing source of trouble and sorrow; they alone accompany us into eternity, whilst death strips us of all power, rank, honour, and riches, as of an occasional garment. For it is not the ruler, the high in rank, the superior in station, the learned, the rich, wild is immortal, but the man. And that which will be essential on the other side the grave, is not what place you occupied on earth, but what you were as a min; your eternal destiny will be fixed, not according to the rank, the power, the splendour, or the riches which you here possessed, but according to the wisdom which you gained, the virtue you acquired, and the fidelity with which you performed the duties of your outward condition, be it what it might.

But if the thought, ‘I am a man,’ reminds us of the natural endowments of human nature, it calls our attention, on the other hand, secondly, to the natural infirmities, which we as men bear about with us. Noble and precious, indeed, is reason, the divine light in us, which is able to take a wide survey of the dominion of truth, penetrates deeply into the mysteries of heaven, and the hidden workings of nature, and, what is the most to be admired, views itself in its own light; it has, notwithstanding, certain limits which it cannot pass; its view is not free from delusion and error, it advances but slowly in the knowledge of truth, futurity is for the most part veiled from its sight, and many a mystery in heaven and earth, many an enigma in our inward frame, is not to be unravelled by it. Great and honourable, indeed, is the moral power of man, and his ability to execute the Divine commands from unconstrained choice and love; admirable is the greatness of virtue, to which individuals of our race have raised themselves; but still what weakness cleaves to human virtue How frequently the best men err! How often we commit acts which, when accomplished, we ourselves condemn with shame!

Richly and excellently (it cannot be denied) has the Creator endued the human heart with generous feelings; they are not seldom powerfully and wonderfully exhibited, glorious as the morning dawn breaks forth from the dark night; every thing good and fair finds in the human breast a congenial chord of feeling, responding in harmonious unison. But here also weakness is the lot of man. Too often the human heart cherishes contrary feelings, too often it contemplates what is unworthy of it with pleasure, and becomes the seat of ignoble sentiments; too often it is the prey of the moment, and verifies that saying of Scripture, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it

Jerem. xvii. 9.

SERMON XX.

THE PROFIT DERIVED FROM MEDITATION ON DEATH.

IF perhaps not the smallest interval of time elapses, my Christian hearers, in which new comers are not arriving on the stage of life, whilst those who have occupied it for a longer or shorter period, again quit it, yet it sometimes appears, as if the messengers of death were doubled, and as if he more urgently and unsparingly demanded his ever certain prey. This is also actually the case from time to time, not only when on fields of battle he mows off, as the reaper the ears of corn, thousands in a few hours, or when he knows no mercy in frightful disorders and contagious diseases, the consequence of war or of hostile elements. Even in the midst of peace, and when all seems safe and free from care, he often quickly attacks every age, every rank, every generation, and hurries them, prepared and unprepared, out of the number of the living. And if there are some among them, whom we personally knew, with whom the relations of professional employment, of business, or friendship, or similarity of years and of destination, made us acquainted, a secret consternation naturally seizes us, and the accustomed proportions of life and death appear to us subverted by a greater mortality.

The last days that have elapsed confirm my observation. More frequently than usual the last pomp of death and the funeral bell, which attend the dead to the common resting-place, have reminded us of the departed. Old, well-known, and proved fellow-citizens have attained their end. To others, who a few weeks ago were strong and vigorous in their calling, before they, before we, apprehended it, their final evening of rest is come. Nor has death spared childhood and. the flower of youth. You yourselves, my friends, have followed the coffin of one of your brethren to the grave. How is it on all sides confirmed, “The days of man are but as grass; he flourished as a flower of the field. When The wind goeth over it, it is gone, and the place thereof knoweth it no more.” Whoever does not pass his days entirely without thought, is not unmoved on such occasions. But how dissimilar are the impressions which they leave behind. That which in one person finds vent in empty unmeaning talk, becomes in another abundant matter for earnest meditation. That which fills one only with anxiety and terror, engenders in another calm resignation. Whilst the former strive to efface the unpleasant impression, which remembrances and admonitions of their end left in them, in wild dissipation, the latter seek retirement and quiet. That which in the one case leads to the undervaluing of an uncertain existence, heightens in the other the sense of the value of every hour. It strengthens the resolution to exert all the faculties in useful activity, “while it is day.” And if, lastly, but faint praise or unjust blame is commonly heard at the grave of the dead, yet the better man proves his own work, and from self-knowledge proceed justice and fairness. But that the right contemplation of death school of wisdom, in this the enlightened men of antiquity agree with the declarations of our holy Scriptures. Which of us does not know those words, so rich in purport, in the 90th Psalm?

Psalm xc. 12.

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

THESE words shall guide our further meditation. We will, first, call to mind the different impressions, which expected and unexpected deaths create in the majority of men, and secondly, obtain a knowledge of that wisdom, which is the sure profit resulting from a proper meditation on death.

SERMON XXI.

RESPECT DUE TO OLD AGE.

TO inspire man with regard for his fellow man, was unquestionably one of the principal purposes, which the coming of Jesus upon earth, the whole tenour of his life, and his death for all men, were designed to accomplish:—regard between man and man, one of the most natural and necessary consequences of genuine Christianity. God sent him, whom we reverence as his Son, for whom, to whom? for all, and to all, that bear the name of man. His birth was a joy, a benefit, which should be unto all people. Jesus lived, not in partial affection for his nation and country, but in affection for the whole race of his brethren. “Go ye into all the world,” teach all the heathen, invite all to share in the enjoyment of my blessings. His blood flowed at Golgotha for the sins of the whole world. He saw that the Jew despised the Heathen and held him to be unclean. To him he was not unclean. The belief of the Centurion at Capernaum, or of the Samaritan woman, received his approbation, as well as the belief of the Jew. He saw that the Jew despised the Heathen: but he caused light to be spread abroad from Judah over the globe; Jews became benefactors to the heathen, and are therefore honoured unto this day by all Christendom, which has been instructed by Jews. He saw that the high despised the low: but he preached the gospel to the poor, that they too might be enlightened, and participate in the universal benefit. He places a child in the midst of his disciples, and recommends to them the warmest regard for the rising generation. The true Christian must feel regard towards all mankind. To him all are brothers, children of his Father, the redeemed of his Redeemer, companions in his conflict, fellow heirs of his heaven. The unchristian man only can despise Lazarus because he is poor, or Peter, because be fell. The Christian sees in the heathen, in the beggar, in the deeply fallen sinner, the image of his God. He sees it more developed in one than in another, but he sees in all the image of his God. And when I respect all those, whom God has raised with me to the dignity of man, can I then overlook you, must I not especially distinguish you above all who are worthy of my respect, ye, whose weakness deserves my forbearance, whose experience my attention, whose services my gratitude, and whose near impending exaltation merits my most serious regards; ye aged men, who have numbered many years, and undergone many sorrows, who have performed much, and have drawn near to the accomplishment of the best hopes? regard, my brethren, for every man, especially for every old man, in a greater degree for the good, in a less for the bad; but, regard for every one. May the meditation of this hour awaken it in us all! May we not in vain promise attention to God in silent prayer!

Proverbs xvi. 31.

The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness.

THESE words do not require a minute explanation. They demand our reverence for the aged members of our kind, particularly for those who walk in the way of righteousness; those, who by their integrity, their wisdom in life, and the sum of their well-employed powers soar high above the levity and inexperience of youth. Our text for this day will remind us that we owe respect to old age. We owe it on account of its infirmities, its experience, its services, and the near fulfilment. of its hopes.

There is evidently a twofold respect,—a respect for that strength and dignity, before which we bow in reverence, and a respect for that weakness, which we approach with caution and wariness, for fear of doing it an injury. This careful regard we owe to children. Their frame is tender, their health a fragile, vessel, their innocence, alas! so easily misled, their yet open heart so easily ruined by pernicious impressions. Old age has much resemblance to childhood. Man declines as gradually as he grew up, till he becomes helpless in body, perhaps in mind also, as he was in the first days of life. The old man has just as little power to protect himself. His body is so susceptible, that the slightest assault can throw him to the ground. Should not that induce me to treat the aged with forbearing regard? If I offend a man of middle age, he will take care that I do not go too far: he has courage, he has strength, he resists me. But the old man has only his tears to oppose to the youth that grieves him. None but a villain attacks such an one, who is not able to defend himself. And who amongst us would be the villain to injure defenceless age? The mind also of the old man is more irritable, more sensitive: bodily weakness and the feeling of increasing infirmities may be the cause of this. Every offensive word, every little slight, every invasion of his property and rights, grieves the old twice as much as the youth and the active man. He looks upon it as an attack, which is the more boldly made upon him, on account of his presumed weakness. The youth has his pleasures, the man his business, which soon divert his thoughts. The old man, the more he is withdrawn from both, the longer he ponders on every offence. The more he feels his inability to add to his possessions, so much the more every loss afflicts him. To the younger and stronger man an injury is a summons to protect himself and to exert his strength. It causes an excitement in him which is often agreeable: it teaches him, at least, to feel his powers. But to the old man every affront is a painful remembrance of his impotency. What, therefore, is in the younger man scarcely a slight hurt to the skin, pierces cuttingly, in the old man, through bone and marrow. And wouldest thou be one of those who mock at his years? That be far from thee. Dost thou think an old man has done thee some ill which he ought not to have done? Treat him not as the youth, who at all events makes some resistance. Remind him of his faults with forbearance, assert thy rights against him with forbearance; he will not be able to vex thee much more. Age has indeed its own weaknesses. It often makes a person capricious and ill-humoured, like a distemper: in a certain sense it is a kind of distemper. The old man has experienced many unpleasant things, he has been deceived by those whom he trusted, he is, therefore, suspicious. He feels that he can no longer acquire, he is, therefore, so much the more anxious to keep what he has acquired, and verges often on parsimony. Every thing is firmer in his sight, he is, therefore, less easy to persuade; years make him obstinate. Thinkest thou, thou wilt be less so, when thou art old?

It must be of consequence to us all, that an indulgent treatment of old age should universally prevail; the days will come when we shall wish it to be so. Happy we, if our weakness at that time is not our own fault; for it is natural to esteem a man less, who has debilitated himself by youthful dissipation, or idleness, or by any other means, than one whom nature itself has deprived of his strength. In the former case a tender regard must be somewhat forced, and maintained by principle; in the latter it comes as it were of itself; it lies in the nature of a feeling heart. We owe then, my hearers, this kind of forbearing regard to every aged person, as well to an Eli, who dreamt away his days in slothful indolence, and never once troubled himself about the wickedness of his sons, as to a Simeon, who, in enlightened knowledge, in piety, in directing his views to heaven, was a pattern of good old men. But there is another and deeper respect. It springs from the sense of the qualities which are peculiar to old age, and first from the acknowledgment of its abundant experience. The old man has seen long ago what we have yet to see; he has long since measured out the ways which we have yet to travel through. He drank the cup of pleasure and tasted its vanity; he drank the cup of sorrow, and experienced its beneficial power. He discerned the truth in the promises of virtue, and learnt the deceits of vice; learnt the high power of the religion of Jesus, which strengthens the weak unto good actions, and leads the ignorant through the devious paths of life, and is his light and his solace in the dark valleys of misfortune. That which the youth knows from the mouth of the teacher, or learns from books, the old man knows more impressively from himself, from the agreeable or painful experience of his own life. He has long observed mankind. He esteemed them good, and he found that they were evil, and often worse than he thought them in the dreams of happy hours. He held them to be evil, and he found such numbers of good persons, even more than Elijah once did, who esteemed all Israel corrupt, and learnt that there were more than seven thousand of a better character remaining. Thus his judgments became grave and mild, more cautious, but more certain than the premature judgments of youth. In the long management of his household he has made experiments, and learnt what is practicable or not. He has gone through wars, and weathered tempests in the midst of wars; he has buried brothers and sisters, parents and children, perhaps wives also; and when the young man talks much, wisely or unwisely, of that which shall be, the experienced old man speaks with more discretion of that which has been.

Youth, my friends, is great, when it rests on the shoulders of experience, which age has gained, and often dearly enough purchased. Do you feel that Solomon is right, when he says, “The hoary head is a crown of glory?” Would you lightly esteem. a man who has acquired so much experience? You must advance far before you can come up to him. How much might you learn from him! How much cause have you to attend to him, when he relates how God has led him, with a father’s care, from his youth up, how he stretched forth his hand to him in the hour, when he thought he must perish; how he has seen the end of the wicked and of the good, and has witnessed the illusions of fortune, the fall of the high and the rising of the low! When, by his superior judgment he would come to the relief of your imprudence, so that you need not attempt on an uncertainty, what he has already attempted with good or bad success, could you then despise him? Will he,. who has a journey to take, not willingly listen to him, who has already performed this journey? Will he not gladly learn of him, what he has to do and what to avoid, in order to gain his end in safety? It may be, that the man advanced in years has not been free from follies: Are we then free? And did he not, perhaps, become more discreet through errors, wiser through follies, more circumspect through faults? Ah! we are but too ready to think of the youthful errors of the old amongst us, that we may have a pretext for withholding from them our respect. Are we willing that our children should one day treat us thus? In the mean time, that we may hereafter the more deserve a high degree of that respect which is due to age, let us walk through-life with reflection. Let us be mindful of God and his ways, mindful of ourselves and the bent of our hearts, and of that which improves or impairs, strengthens or weakens, comforts or disturbs. Let us be attentive to men around us, that we may warn where warning is needful, and inspire confidence, where suspicion ought to be eradicated. Let us preside over our household with care, and acquire knowledge and attainments of all kinds, which will remain to us, when we can no longer be useful to the world by our physical strength. Youth will honour our age, when we can be serviceable to it by our advice and our wisdom. If on the contrary it can point to us and say, ‘He went through life without any aim or object, he saw and heard not, he noticed and observed not,’ then the utmost regard which will be paid to us will be that which consists in forbearance towards our weakness; the higher respect due to superior judgment cannot be ours. Grey hairs are a crown of glory, glory which is most surely acquired in the way of righteousness. Righteousness, distinguished integrity, and universal love proceed from purity of heart; and blessed effects result from universal love. The highest honour is due to old age, that has deserved well of mankind. Now the old man’s hand rests powerless; but it was not always so; it has rendered services to his family and to his country. How much produce did he elicit from the soil, which was the food of men, and of animals which were again useful to men! How did he embellish nature around him, by his industry!

How has another profited mankind in his apparently unimportant employment! At first an honest servant, a blessing to every household in which he lived: then a conscientious workman, who attended to the business of others with a zeal which could not be exceeded in his own affairs. How many has he served, and for how many years! What a neighbour was this old man! what a friend! and I will add, what an enemy! His household was a pattern of piety and order. How many did his example encourage or shame! What relief he administered to the necessitous in his community and neighbourhood! How he hastened to help where help was necessary! How many tears has he dried up how many widows and orphans has he comforted!—He had an enemy, a man who sought to embitter his life; he defended himself with vigour, but he injured not, even when he might. His enemy felt the hand of misfortune fall heavily upon him, and he, the offended, was the first to succour him. He was not faultless, but he strove against the weaknesses of his heart, and was victorious, and ascended from year to year to higher perfection. How often has he reconciled enemies! how much good has he promoted by his counsel and his influence! When this can be said of an old man, O then, who is there that can refuse him his esteem? And if, moreover, this old man were thy father? when to the services he has rendered to the community are added those he has rendered to thee, must thou still be admonished to honour him? to honour her, who for thy sake underwent much tribulation, and passed many sleepless nights and still more disturbed days, who cherished thee in sicknesses with unwearied love, and saved thee, when the cold hand of death was extended towards thy cradle? to honour him, whose advice guided thy childhood and thy inexperienced youth; who gave thee much good instruction and yet better example; who laid the foundation of thy advancement amongst men; to whom thou owest thy health, possessions, information, and, in part, even thy virtue? Reverently bow thy head before every aged person, whose earlier years were marked by good deeds, and by services done to mankind and to thee. When thou despisest an old man who is a stranger to thee, thou art ungrateful: mankind is much indebted to him. But when thy father or thy mother experiences thy neglect, what shall be said of thee thou art then amongst the infamous, one of the most infamous.—‘Yes, if the old were all such as they have been just described to me.’ But how many such are there! Judge not, that thou mayest not be judged. The old man may have effected much good, not a little perhaps that is so much the more meritorious, because it was unnoticed. And his faults—thou ratest them high, and yet the tear of contrition long since blotted them out of the book in which they stood written before his God, and the exertions of amendment have supplied their place by more praiseworthy actions. But indeed that the respect of the young may one day be willingly paid and abundantly offered to us when grown old, we must now in the years of our strength seek to deserve well of our wives and children, of servants and others under our roof, of the poor and unfortunate, of our family and community, of friends and foes, of all whom our God brings near to us. The flower of esteem thrives only in the sunny warmth of disinterested virtue: it fades in the shade of idleness and vice. “The hoary head is a crown of glory” to him, who by his merits has proved himself worthy of honour.

And how highly shall we honour age, when we consider the exalted hopes, to the near fulfilment of which it looks forward. In every man, O my brethren, we behold the future angel, in the old man one that will speedily become an angel. Thou who with grey head and trembling hands standest before me, soon, soon will thy course be finished. Thou art already bent to the earth, which probably in a few days or weeks will receive thee. Receive thee? God forbid! It will but possess thy outward frame, the habitation of thy immortal spirit. Thou thyself soarest then on high to see sublime things, to collect sublime knowledge, and to be perfected in purity, and I, then I shall look up to thee with a longing eye. The weaker thou art, the more must I honour thee. The inhabitant of heaven prepares to quit the earth, where, sent by God, he learnt and performed much and did good, and from whence he now, after his work is finished, returns to his Father. O! I would not be angry with thee for a single hour, thou who standest at the gate of heaven. Thou mightest die I and shouldest thou take with thee these last impressions of bitterness into another world? Shouldest thou complain against me there? That cannot be—the flame of revenge is quenched at the throne of God. But should thy entrance into a better life be attended by any but a happy recollection of me? I will cherish thy age, thou beloved! it is the hour of parting. Thy first song of praise before God shall not be thanksgiving, that he has at length delivered thee from me; if it be possible, it shall be thanksgiving, that he has connected us together. Thou mayest have the weaknesses of age: but what are they? They are the forgetfulness of one falling asleep, who is but half conscious, and half lost in a delightful dream sees the future smile to him. Soon wilt thou be above, and there behold in a clearer light the wonderful ways of thy God. Then thou wilt no longer feel the affections of sensuality and sin, then thou wilt dwell amongst those, who have long dwelt there. Honour and respect to him, who will soon inhabit a better world! The school-boy will soon leave the school, to enter into the graver occupations of life; the scholars who remain respect him that is so near the end of his time, and look upon him as almost grown up to manhood; and we already view the old man as one of the elect at the fountain of light. If I offend a younger man, I can probably make it good again; if I trespass against an old one,—to-morrow, perhaps, he is no more here, and I cannot requite him! No, aged friend, the close of thy life shall be, as far as lies in my power, a foretaste of heaven for which thou longest. Thou goest before the judge: and shall I by inconsiderate conduct or by ill-treatment provoke thee to sin, before thou goest thither? I will not, I dare not do this. I owe respect not merely to thy weakness, but to thy experience, thy merits, and thy hopes so nearly accomplished.

Perhaps my house may become the quiet abode of age; perhaps the rising generation will see and learn of me, how old age should be honoured, and will one day practise the same towards myself. At all events I will so live, that my old age, when it comes, shall be truly honourable. I will not make myself old before nature makes me so: I will not desire rest, until nature requires it. I will be useful and live in charity, before old age comes; and when it arrives, I shall reap what I sowed. Then will youth attend to the voice of my experience, and be grateful for my honest exertions for the good of my brethren. Then it will spare my weakness—my strength will be exhausted, but not lost—and when I have long mouldered in the dust, some one of my posterity will stand by my grave, and say, He was a good man. Amen.

THE END.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY R. GILBERT, 5T. JOHN'S SQUARE