THE
WIORKS
OF
WILLIAM  E. CHANNING, D. D.
TWELFTH COMPLETE EDITION,
WITH
AN INTRODUCTION.
VOL. III.
BOSTON:
CROSBY, NICHOLS, AND COMPANY.
NEW YORK:
C. S. FRANCIS AND COMPANY.
1. 853.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by
GEORGE  G. CHANNING,
i tne Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusets.
Printed by
MUNROE AND FRANCIT
B o s to n.




CONTENTS OF VOL. III.
AGHB
PREACHING CHRIST: DISCOURSE AT THE ORDINATION OF THE
REV. JOHN EMERY ABBOT.                           7
WAR: DISCOURSE BEFORE THE CONGREGATIONAL MINISTERS
OF MASSACHUSETTS.                                29
UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY: DISCOURSE AT THE ORDINATION
OF THE REV. JARED SPARKS......   59
THE EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION: DISCOURSE BEFORE
THE UNIVERSITY IN CAMBRIDGE...            105
THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE ON THE MINISTRY:< DISCOURSE
AT THE ORDINATION OF THE REV. E. S. GANNETT... 137
UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY; DISCOURSE AT THE DEDICATION OF THE SECOND CONGREGA.
TIONAL UNITARIAN CHURCH IN NEW YORK.,... 163
THE GREAT PURPOSE OF CHRISTIANITY: DISCOURSE AT THE
INSTALLATION OF THE REV. MIE. I. MOTTE.... 07
LIKENESS TO GOD: DISCOURSE AT THE ORDINATION OF THE
REV. F. A. PARLEY...                           227
THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY: DISCOURSE AT THE DEDICATION
OF DIVINITY HALL, CA BRIDGE.                  257
THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.                           287
HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.....   299
THE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY: PART I...    315
PART II.            357








DISCOURSES.








PREACHING CHRIST.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
ORDINATION OF THE REV. JOHN EMERY ABBOT.
SALEi, 1815.
COLOSSIANS i. 28: " WXrhomn we preach, warning every man, and
teaching every man in all wisdom, that we may present every
man perfect in Christ Jesus."
IN the verses immediately preceding the text, we find
the Apostle enlarging with his usual zeal and earnestness on a subject peculiarly dear to him; on the glorious mystery of God, or in other words, on the great
purpose of God, which had been kept secret from ages,
to make the Gentile world partakers, through faith, of
the blessings of the long-promised Messiah.  " Christ,
the hope of glory to the Gentiles," was the theme on
which Paul, the Apostle of the Gentiles, delighted to
expatiate.  Having spoken of Jesus in this character,
he immediately  adds, " Whom  we preach, warning
every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom, that
we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus."
On the present occasion, which invites us to consider the design and duties of the Christian ministry,




8                 PREACHING CHRIST
I have thought that these words would guide us to many
appropriate and useful reflections.  They teach us what
the Apostle preached; "1 We preach Christ.'  They
teach us the end or object for which he thus preached;
" That we may present every mcan perfect in Christ
Jesus."  Following this natural order, I shall first consider what is intended by G" preaching Christ."'  i shall
then endeavour to illustrate and recommend the end or
object for which Christ is to be preached; and I shall
conclude with some remarks on the methods by vhich
this end is to be accomplished.  In discussing these
topics, on wlhich a variety of sentiment is known to exist, I shall necessarily dissent firom some of the views
which are cherished by particular classes of Christians.
But the frank expression of opinion ought not to be
construed into any-want of affection or esteem for those
from whom I differ.
I. What are we to understand by " preaching Christ "?
This subject is the more interesting and important, because, I fear, it has often been misunderstood.  MI\any
persons imagine, that Christ is never preached, unless
his name is continually repeated and his character continually kept in view.  This is an error, and should be
exposed.  Preaching Christ, then, does not consist in
making Christ perpetually the subject of discourse, but
in inculcating, on his authority, the religrion which he
taught.  Jesus came to be the light and teacher of the
world; and in this sublime and benevolent character he
unfolded many truths relating to the Universal Father,
to his own character, to the condition, duties, and prospects of mankind, to the perfection and true happiness
of the human soul, to a future state of retribution, to




PREACHING CHRIST.                9
the terms of forgiveness, to the means of virtue, and
of everlasting life.  Now whenever we teach, on the
authority of Jesus, any doctrine or precept included in
this extensive system, we "I preach Christ."  When,
for instance, we inculcate on his authority the duties of
forgiving eneimies, of denying ourselves, of hungering
after righteousness, we "preach Christ" as truly as
when we describe his passion on the cross, or the purpose and the importance of his sufferings.
By the word " Christ " in the text and in many other
places, we are to understand his religion rather than his
person. Among the Jews nothing was more common
than to give the name of a religious teacher to the system of truth which he taught.  We see this continually
exemplified in the New Testament.  Thus, it is said
of the Jews, "c They have Moses and the prophets."
What is meant by this? that they had Moses residing
in person among them? Certainly not; but that they
had his law, his religion.  Jesus says, A" I came not to
destroy the prophets."  What did he mean? that he
had not come'to slay or destroy the prophets who had
died ages before his birth?  Certainly not; he only intended that his doctrines were suited to confirm, not to
invalidate, the writings of these holy men.  According
to the same form of speech, Stephen was accused of
blasphemy against Moses, because some of his remarks
were construed into a reproach on the law of Moses.
These passages are sufficient to showv us, that a religion
was often called by the name of its teacher; and conformably to this usage, when Paul says, II We preach
Christ," we ought to understand him as affirming, that
he preached the whole system  of doctrines and duties
which Christ taught, whether they related to Jesus himself, or to any other subject.




10                PREACHING ChRIST.
But there is one passage more decisive on this point
than any which'I have adduced.  In the Acts of the
Apostles,* James says, " M~oses of old time hath in
every city them that preach him, being read in the sy-nagogue every Sabbath-day."' H-ere we find the Apostle declaring, that in every city there were men who
preached.iioses; and we are told in what thi3 preaching consisted; I Moses is read in the synagogue every
Sabbath-day.'"   No one, acquainted with the ancient
services of the synagogue, can suppose, for a moment,
that the character and offices of Moses were the themes
of the Jewish teachers every Sabbath, and -that they
preached nothing else.  It was their custom to read the
books of the law in course, and to offer comments upon
obscure or important passages.  In many parts of these
books the name of Moses is not mentioned.  We have
whole chapters about the tabernacle, and about the rites
of cleansing from the leprosy. But, according to James,
when these portions were read and explained, Moses
was preached; not because his character was the subject, but because the instructions contained in these
chapters were a part of the religion which he was appointed to comnmunicate to the children of Israel.  The
name of the teacher was given to his doctrine.  This
formn of speech was not peculiar to the Jews; all nations
lhave probably adopted it.  At the present day, nothing
is more common than to hear, that Locke, or Newton,
or some other distinguished philosopher, is published,
or taught; not that his personal character and history are
made public, but his system of doctrines.  In the same
way, Christ is preached, published, proclaimed when his
instructions are delivered, although these instructions
* Acts xv. 2!.




PREACHING CHRIST.                 11
may relate to other topics beside his own offices and
character.
I hope I shall not be misunderstood in the remarks
which I have now made.  Do not imagine, that I would
exclude from the pulpit, discourses on the excellence of
Jesus Christ.  The truths which relate to Jesus himself, are among the most important which the Gospel
reveals.  The relations which Jesus Christ sustains to
the world, are so important and so tender; the concern
which he has expressed in human salvation, so strong
and disinterested; the blessings of pardon and immortal
life which he brings, so undeserved and unbounded; his
character is such a union of moral beauty and grandeur;
his example is at once so pure and so persuasive; the
events of his life, his miracles, his sufferings, his resurrection and ascension, and his offices of intercessor and
judge, are so strengthening to faith, hope, and charity,
that his ministers should dwell on his name with affectionate veneration, and should delight to exhibit him to
the gratitude, love, imitation, and confidence of mankind.
But, wvhilst the Christian minister is often to insist
on the life, the character, the offices, and the benefits of
Jesus Christ, let him not imagine that he is preaching
Christ only when these are his themes.  If he confine
himself to these, he will not in the full sense of the
word preach Christ; for this is to preach the whole
religion of Jesus, and this religion is of vast extent,
It regards man in his diversified ciad ever-multiplyillg
relations to his Creator and to his feillov-creatures, to
the present state and to all future ages.  -its aim  is, to
instruct and quicken us to cultivate an enlarged virtue;
to cultivate our whole intellectual and moral nature,




12                 PREACHING CHRISl'.
It collects and offers motives to piety from the past and
from the future, from  heaven and hell, from  nature and
experience, from human example, and from the imitable
excellences of God, from  the world without and the
world within us.  The Gospel of Christ is indeed an
inexhaustible treasury of moral and religious truth.
Jesus, the first and best f'evangelical teachers, did not
confine himself to a few topics, but manifested himself
to be the wisdom  of God by the richness and variety
of his instructions.  To preach Christ is to unfold, as
far as our feeble and narrow powers permit, all the doctrines, duties, and motives, which are recorded in the
Gospels and in the writings of his inspired Apostles.
It is not intended  by these remarks, that all the
instructions of Christ are of equal importance, and
that all are to be urged with equal frequency and zeal.
Some undoubtedly are of greater moment and of more
universal application than others.  But a minister of a
sound and candid mind, will be very cautious lest he assign so high a rank to a few doctrines, that the rest will
sink into comparative insignificance, and almost fade
from  the minds of his hearers.  He will labor to give
enlarged and harmonious views of all the principles of
Christianity, recollecting that each receives support from
the rest, and that no doctrine or precept will exert its
proper influence, if swelled into disproportioned importance, or detached from  the truths which ought to modify and restrain it.
It has been the object of these remarks, to show,
that preaching Christ does not imply that the offices
and character of Christ are to be made perpetually the
subjects of discourse.  Where this idea prevails, it too
often happens that the religion of Jesus is very partial



PREACHING CHRIST.               i 3
ly preached.  A few topics are repeated without end.
Mlany delightful and ennobling views of Christianity are
seldom or never exhibited.  The duties of the Gospel
receive but a cursory attention.  Religion is thought to
consist in a fervid state of mind, produced by the constant contemplation of a few affecting ideas; whilst the
only acceptable religion, which consists in living (c soberly, righteously, and godly in the world," seems to
be undervalued as quite an inferior attainment.  Where
this mistake prevails, we too often discover a censorious
spirit among hearers, who pronounce with confidence
on this and another minister, that they do not preach
Christ, because their discourses do not turn on -a few
topics in relation to the Saviour, which are thought to
contain the whole of Christianity.  Very often the labors of a pious and upright minister are defeated by this
prejudice; nor must he wonder, if he find himself decried, as an enemy to the faith, by those whose want
of education or capacity confines them to the narrowest
views of the Christian system. - Mlay I be permitted,
with deference and respect, to beseech Christian ministers not to encourage by example this spirit of censure
among private Christians.  There is no lesson which we
can teach our hearers more easily, than to think contemptuously and to speak bitterly of other classes of
Christians, and especially of their teachers.  Let us
never forget, that we none of us preach Christ in the
fill import of that phrase.  None of us can hope that
we give a complete representation of the religion of our
Master; that we exhibit every doctrine without defect
or without excess, in its due proportions, and in its just
connexions.  We of necessity communicate a portion
of our own weakness and darkness to the religion which
VOL. II.              2




1 4               PtEAcHIiNG cts'iT
we dispense.  The degree of imperfection indeed ditfers in different teachers; but none are free from  the
universal frailty, and none are authorized to take tile
seat of judgment, and, on the ground of imagined errors,
to deny to others, whose lives are as spotless as their
own, a conscientious purpose to learn and to teach the
whole counsel of God.
HI. Having thus considered what is intended by
preaching Christ, I proceed to consider, secondly, for
what end Christ is to be preached.  We preach Christ,
says the Apostle, " warning every man, and teaching
every man, that we may present every man perfect in
Christ Jesus; " that is, perfect in the religion of Christ,
or a perfect Christian. From the passage we derive a
most important sentiment, confirmed by the whole New
Testament, that the great design of all the doctrines
and precepts of the Gospel, is to exalt the character,
to promote eminent purity of heart and life, to make
men perfect as their Father in heaven is perfect.  For
what end then is Christianity to be preached? The
answer is plain.  We must preach, not to make fiery
partisans, and to swell the number of a sect; not to
overwhelm  the mind with fear, or to heat it with feverish rapture; not to form men to the decencies of life,
to a superficial goodness, which will secure the admiration of mankind.  All these effects fall infinitely short
of the great end of the Christian ministry.  We should
preach, that we may make men perfect Christians 
perfect, not according to the standard of the world,
but according to the law of Christ; perfect in heart
and in life, in solitude and in society, in the great and
in the common concerns of life.  Here is the purpose




PREACHING C HRIST.                15
of Christian preaching.  In this, as in a common centre, all the truths of the Gospel meet; to this they all
conspire; and no doctrine has an influence on salvation,
any farther than it is an aid and excitement to the perfecting of our nature.
The Christian minister needs often to be reminded
of this great end of his office, the perfection of the
human character.  He is too apt to rest in low attailnments himself, and to be satisfied with low attainments
in others.  He ought never to forget the great distinction and glory of the Gospel, -  that it is designed to
perfect human nature.  All the precepts of this divine
system are marked by a sublime character.  It demnands
tlhat our piety be fervent, our benevolence unboundedc
and our thirst for righteousness strong and insatiable.
It enjoins a virtue which does not stop at what is positively prescribed, but which is prodigal of service to
God and to mankind.  The Gospel enjoins inflexible
integrity, fearless sincerity, fortitude which despises pain
and tramples pleasure under foot in the pursuit of duty,
and an independence of spirit which no scorn can deter
and no example seduce from  asserting truthi and adhering to the cause which conscience approves.  With this
spirit of martyrs, this hardness and intrepidity of soldiers of the cross, the Gospel calls us to unite the mildest and meekest virtues; a sympathy iwhich melts over
others' woes; a disinterestedness which finds pleasure
in toils, and labors for others' good; a humility which
loves to bless unseen, and forgets itself in the performance of the noblest deeds.   To  this perfection  of
social duty, the Gospel commands us to join a piety
which refers every event to the providence of God, and
every action to his will; a love which counts no service




1 6               PREAlCHiNG CIlIZIST.
hard, and a penitence which esteems no judgment severe; a gratitude which offers praise even in adversity;
a holy trust unbroken by protracted suffering, and a hope
triumphant over death.  In one word, it enjoins, that,
loving and confiding in Jesus Christ, we make his spotless character, his heavenly life, the model of our own.
Such is the sublimity of character which the Gospel
demands, and such the end to which our preaching
should ever be directed.
I have dwelt on this end of preaching, because it is
too often forgotten, and because a stronger conviction
of it will give new force and elevation to our instructions.  We need to feel more deeply, that we are intrusted with a religion which is designed to ennoble
human nature; which recognises in man the capacities
of all that is good, great, and excellent; and which
offers every encouragement and aid to the pursuit of
perfection.  The Christian minister should often recollect, that man, though propense to evil, has yet powers
and faculties which may be exalted and refined to angelic glory; that he is called by the Gospel to prepare
for the community of angels; that he is formed for
unlimited progress in intellectual and moral excellence
and felicity.  He should often recollect, that in Jesus
Christ our nature has been intimately united with the
divine, and that in Jesus it is already enthroned in heaven. Familiarized to these generous, conceptions, the
Christian preacher, whilst he faithfully unfolds to men
their guilt and danger, should also unfold their capacities of greatness; should reveal the splendor of that
destiny to which they are called by Christ; should
labor to awaken within them aspirations after a nobler
character and a higher existence, and to inflame them




PREAC.fiI[N  CIH[ST.               1 7
with the love of all the graces and virtues with which
Jesus came to enrich and adorn the human soul.  In
this way he will prove that he understands the true
and great design of the Gospel and the ministry, which
is nothing less than the perfection of the hTuman cliaracter.
bMay I be permitted to say, that perhaps one of the
greatest defects in our preaching, is, that it is not sufficiently directed to ennoble and elevate the minds of
men.  It does not breathe a sufficiently generous spirit.
It appeals too constantly to the lowest principle of huiman nature; I mean the principle of fear, which tinder
judicious excitement is indeed of great and undoubted
use, but which, as every parent knows, when habitually
awakened, is always found to debase the mind, to break
the spirit, to give tameness to the character, and to
chill the best affections.  Perhaps one cause of the
limited influence of Christianity, is, that, as it is too
often exhibited, it seems adapted to form an abject, servile character, rather than to raise its disciples to true
greatness and dignity.  Perhaps, were Christianity more
habitually regarded as a system, whose great design it is
to infuse honorable sentiments, magnanimity, energy, an
ingenuous love of God, a superiority to the senses, a
spirit of self-sacrifice, a virtue akin to that of heaven,
its reception would be more cordial, and its influence
more extensive, more happy, more accordant with its
great end, the perfection of human nature.
IIT. HIaving thus considered the end of Christian
preaching, I now  come to'offer, in the third place, a
few remarks on the best method of accomplishing it;
and here T find myself obliged to omit a great variety
2*




] 8               PREACHING CHRIST.
of topics, and can only offer one or two of principal
importance.  That the Gospel may attain its end, may
exert the most powerful and ennobling influence on the
human character, it must be addressed at once to the
understanding and to the heart.  It must be so preached
as to be firmly believed and deeply felt.   To secure
to Christianity this firm belief, I have only time to observe, that it should be preached in a rational manner.
By this I mean, that a Christian minister should beware
of offering interpretations of Scripture, which are repugnant to any clear discoveries of reason or dictates
of conscience.  This admonition is founded upon the
very obvious principle, that a revelation from God must
be adapted to the rational and moral nature which he
has conferred on man; that God can never contradict
in his Word what he has himself written on the human
heart, or teaches in his works and providence.  Every
man who reads the Bible knows, that, like other books,
it has many passages which admit a variety of interpretations.  Human language does not admit entire precision.  It has often been observed by philosophers,
that the most familiar sentences owe their perspicuity,
not so much to the definiteness of the language, as to
an almost incredible activity of the mind, which selects
from a variety of meanings that which each word demands, and assigns such limits to every phrase as the
intention of the -speaker, his character and situation,
require.  In addition to this source of obscurity, to
which all writings are exposed, we must remember that
the Scriptures were written in a distant age, in a foreign
language, by men who were unaccustomed to the systematic arrangements of modern times, and who, although inspired, were left to communicate their thoughts




PREACHING CHRIST.               19
in the style most natural or habitual.  Can we wonder,
then, that they admit a variety of interpretations? Now,
we owe it to a book, which records, as we believe,
revelations from Heaven, and which is plainly designed
for the moral improvement of the race, to favor those
explications of obscure passages, which are seen to harmonize with the moral attributes of God, and with the
acknowledged teachings of nature and conscience.  All
those interpretations of the Gospel, which strike the
mind at once as inconsistent with a righteous government
of the universe, which require of man what is disproportioned to his nature, or which shock any clear conviction which our experience has furnished, cannot be
viewed with too jealous an eye by him, who, revering
Christianity, desires to secure to it an intelligent belief.
It is in vain to say, that the first and most obvious
meaning of Scripture is always to be followed, no matter
where it leads,  I answer, that the first and most obvious meaning of a passage, written in a foreign language,
and in remote antiquity, is very often false, and such as
farther inquiry compels us to abandon.  I answer, too,
that all sects of Christians agree, and are forced to
agree, in frequently forsaking the literal sense, on account of its incongruity with acknowledged truth. There
is, in fact, no book in the world, which requires us more
frequently to restrain unlimited expressions, to qualify
the letter by the spirit, and to seek the meaning in the
state and customs of the writer and of his age, than the
New Testament. No book is written in a more popular,
figurative, and animated style, the very style which re
quires the most constant exercise of judgment in the
reader.  The Scriptures are not a frigid digest of Chris
tlanity, as if this religion were a mere code of civil laws




.2A.('-LF 1'cPREACHING CIRIST.
They give us the Gospel warm  from  the hearts of its
preachers.  The language is not that of logicians, not
the language of retired and inanimate speculation, but
of affection, of zeal, of men who burned to convey
deep and vivid impressions of the truth.  In understanding such writers, moral feeling is often a better
guide thlan a servile adherence to the literal and most
obvious meaning of every word and phrase.  it may be
said of thle New  as well as the Old Testament, that
sometimes the letter killeth whilst the spirit giveth life.
Almost any system may be built on the New Testament
by a commentator, who, forgetting the general scope of
Christianity and the lessons of nature and experience,
shall impose on every passage the literal signification
which is first offered to the mind.  The Christian minis-.
ter should avail himself, in his exposition of the Divine
Word, of the aids of learning and criticism, and also of
the aids of reason and conscience.  Those interpretations of difficult passages, which approve themselves to
his clear and established conceptions of rectitude, and
to his devout and benevolent affections, he should regard
with a favorable eye; whilst those of an opposite character should be regarded with great distrust.
I have said, that this rational method of preaching
Christianity is important, if we would secure a firm  belief to Clihristianity. Some men may indeed be reconciled to an unreasonable religion; and terror, that passion which more than any other unsettles the intellect,
may silence every objection to the most contradictory
and degrading principles. But in general the understanding and conscience cannot be entirely subdued.'hey
resist the violence which is done themn.  A lurking incredulity mingles with the attempt to believe what con



PrIEACMIING  HR'I'S.             2 1
tradicts the highest principles of our nature.  Particularly the most intelligent part of the community, who
will ultimately govern public sentiment, will doubt and
disbelieve the unreasonable system, which, perhaps, they
find it prudent to acknowledge; and will either convert
it into an instrument of policy, or seize a favorable moment for casting off its restraints and levelling its institutions with the dust.  Thus important is it that Chris
tianity should be recommended to the understandings
of men.
But this is not enough.  It is also most important
that the Gospel should be recommended to the heart.
Christianity should be so preached, as to interest the
affections, to awaken contrition and fear, veneration and
love, gratitude and hope. Some preachers, from observing thie pernicious effects of violent and exclusive
appeals to the passions, have fallen into an opposite
error, which has rendered the labors of their lives almost wholly unfruitful.  They have addressed men as
mere creatures of intellect; they have forgotten, that
affection is as essential to our nature as thought, that
action requires motive, that the union of reason and
sensibility is the health of the soul, and that without
moral feeling there can be no strength of moral purpose.
They have preached ingeniously, and the hearer has pronounced the teaching true.  But the truth, coldly imparted, and coldly received, has been forgotten as fast as
heard; no energy of will has been awakened; no resistance to habit and passion been called forth; perhaps not
a momentary purpose of self-improvement has glanced
through the mind.  Preaching, to be effectual, must be
as various as our nature.  The sun warms, at the same
moment that it enlightens; and, unless religious truth be




22                PREACHING CHRIST
addressed at once to the reason and the affections, unless
it kindles whilst it guides, it is a useless splendor; it
leaves the heart barren; it produces no fruits of godliness. Let the Christian minister, then, preach the Gospel with earnestness, with affection, with a heart warmed
by his subject, not thinking of himself, not seeking
applause, but solicitous for the happiness of mankind,
tenderly concerned for his people, awake to the solemnities of eternity, and deeply impressed with the worth
of the human soul, with the glory and happiness to
which it may be exalted, and with the misery and ruin
into which it will be plunged by irreligion and vice.
Let him preach, not to amuse, but to convince and
awaken; not to excite a momentary interest, but a deep
and lasting seriousness; not to make his hearers think of
the preacher, but of themselves, of their own characters
and future condition.  Let him  labor, by delineating
with unaffected ardor the happiness of virtue, by setting
forth religion in its most attractive forms, by displaying
the paternal character of God, and the love of Christ
which was stronger than death, by unfolding the purity
and blessedness of the heavenly world, by revealing to
the soul its own greatness, and by persuasion, by entreaty, by appeals to the best sentiments of human nature,
by speaking from a heart convinced of immortality; let
him  labor, by these methods, to touch and to soften his
hearers, to draw them to God and duty, to awaken gratitude and love, a sublime hope and a generous desire of
exalted goodness.  And let him also labor, by solemn
warning, by teaching men their responsibility, by setting
before sinners the aggravations of their guilt, by showing
them  the ruin and immediate wretchedness wrought by
mnoral evil in the soul, and by pointing them to approach



PREACHING cHRIST.                23
ing death, and the retributions of the future world; let
him labor, by these means, to reach the consciences of
those whom  higher motives will not quicken, to break
the slumbers of the worldly, to cut off every false hope,
and to persuade the sinner, by a salutary terror, to return
to God, and to seek, with a new earnestness, virtue,
glory, and eternal life.




24               PREACHING CHRIST'f
NOTE
ON THE FIRST HEAD OF THE PRECEDING IISCOURSE.
The error which I have opposed on the subject of'preaching Christ, may be traced in a great measure to
what appears to me a wrong interpretation of the two first
chapters of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. In these
chapters, Paul says, that he " determined to know nothing among the Corinthians, save Jesus Christ and him
crucified," and speaks once and again of "preaching
Christ crucified," &c. It has been supposed, that the
Apostle here intended to select the particular point on
which preaching should chiefly turn, and that we have
his authority for censuring a discourse which does not relate immediately to the character of Christ, and especially
to his sufferings on the cross. But I think that a little
attention to the circumstances of the Apostle and of the
Corinthians will show us, that Paul referred to the religion of Jesus generally, as the subject of his preaching,
and not to a very limited part of it.
Corinth, being the most commercial city of Greece,
was inhabited by Jews as well as Greeks. These Jews,
as Paul tells us, " wanted a sign," just as the Pharisees
in the time of Christ demanded " a sign from heaven."
That is, they wanted a Messiah who should be marked
out to them by a visible descent from heaven, or by some
glorious appearance from heaven, or by some outward
majesty which should be a pledge of his breaking the
Roman yoke, and raising Judea to the empire of the




PREACHING CHRIST.              25
world. They wanted a splendid and temporal Messiah.
The Greeks, on the other hand, who were a speculative
people, wanted woisdome, or a system of philosophy, and
could hear nothing patiently but the subtile disputations
and studied harangues with which they were amused by
those who pretended to wisdom. Such was the state of
Corinth, when Paul entered it. Had he brought with
him an account of a triumphant Messiah, or an acute
philosopher, he would have been received with eagerness.
But none were desirous to hear the simple religion of
Jesus of Nazareth, who proved his mission, not by subtilties of eloquence, but by miracles evincing the power of
God, and who died at last on the ignominious cross.
Paul, however, in opposition to Jew and Greek, determined to know nothing of a worldly Messiah, nothing of
any old or new scheme of philosophy; but to know and
to preach Jesus Christ, and to exhibit him in a light whicl
Judaism  and philosophy would alike abhor, as crucified
for the recovery of men from error, sin, and condemnation. In other words, he resolved to preach the religion
of Jesus, in its greatest simplicity, without softening its
most offensive feature, the cross of its author, or without
borrowing any thing from Moses or from any Gentile
philosopher, to give currency to his doctrines. This is
the amount of what Paul teaches in these chapters.
We must not imagine, when we read these chapters,
that Corinth was a city of professing Christians; that
among these Christians a difference of opinion had arisen
as to the proper subjects of Christian preaching, and that
Paul intended to specify the topic on which ministers
should chiefly or exclusively insist. This, I fear, is the
common impression under which this portion of Scripture
is read; but this is altogether erroneous. No controversy of this kind existed; and Paul, in these chapters,
had not the most distant idea of recommending one part
VOL. III.             3




2 6               PREACHING CHRIST.
of the Gospel in preference to others, but intended to
recommend the whole Gospel, the whole religion of Jesus
Christ, in distinction from Judaism  and Gentile philosophy. The dangers of the Corinthian Christians required
that he should employ every effort to secure their fidelity
to the simple Gospel of Jesus. Having been educated in
the Jewish or Heathen religions; living in the midst of
Jews and Heathens; hearing perpetually, from one
class, that the Messiah was to be a triumphant prince,
and that without submission to the law of Moses, no one
could partake his blessings; and hearing, from the other,
perpetual praises of this and another philosopher, and
perpetual derision of the Gospel, because in its doctrines
and style it bore no resemblance to the refinements and
rhetoric of their most celebrated sages; the Corinthian
Christians, in these trying circumstances, were strongly
tempted to assimilate the Gospel to the prevalent religions,
to blend with it foreign doctrines, to keep the humiliation
of its author out of sight, and to teach it as a system of
philosophy resting on subtile reasoning rather than on
miracles and the authority of God. To save them from
this danger, a danger which at present we can hardly estimate, the Apostle reminded them, that when he came to
them he came not with " excellency of speech and with
enticing words of man's wisdom," but in demonstration
of the Spirit and of miraculous powers; that he did not
comply with the demands of Greek or Jew; that he
preached a crucified Messiah, and no other teacher or
deliverer; and that he always insisted, that the religion
of Jesus, unaided by Judaism or philosophy, was able to
make men wise to salvation. He also reminded them,
that this preaching, however branded as foolishness, had
proved divinely powerful, and had saved them from that
ignorance of God, from which human wisdom had been
unable to deliver them. These remarks, I hope, will as



PtlWACHING CHIRIST.             27
sist common readers in understanding the chapters under
consideration.
We are too apt, in reading the New Testament, and
particularly the Epistles, to forget, that the Gospel was a
new religion, and that the Apostles were called to preach
Jesus to those, who, perhaps, had never before heard his
name, and whose prejudices and passions prepared them
to contemn and reject his claims. In these circumstances,
they had to begin at the very foundation, to prove to the
unbelieving world that Jesus was the Messiah, or sent
firom  God to instruct and save mankind. This is often
called "cpreaching Christ," especially in the Acts. —
When converts were made, the work of the Apostles was
not ended. Trhese converts wished to bring with them a
part of their old religion into the church; and some of
the Jews even insisted that obedience to Moses was essential to salvationr. These errors the Apostles resolutely
opposed, and, having previously established the Messiahship of Jesus, they next proceeded to establish the sufficiency and perfection of his religion, to show that faith in
him, or reception of his Gospel, was all that was required
to salvation.  This is sometimes called " preaching
Christ." - These difficulties, which called the Apostles
to so much anxiety and toil, are now in a great measure
removed. Christian ministers, at the present day, are not
often called to preach Christ in opposition to the infidel,
and never in opposition to the weak convert who would
incorporate Judaism or Gentile philosophy with Christianity. The great foundation, on which the Apostles spent
so much strength, is now firmly laid. Our hearers generally acknowledge Jesus to be the Messiah, sent by God
to be the light of the world, and "able to save to the
uttermost all who come to God by him."  We are therefore seldom called to preach Christ in the senses which
have just been considered, and our preaching must of




28'              PREACHING CHRIST.
course differ in a measure from that of the Apostles.
But there is another sense of preaching Christ, involved
in both the preceding, in which our work precisely accords with theirs. Like them, we are to unfold to those
who acknowledge Jesus as their Lord, all the truths, motives, and precepts, which he has left to guide and quicken
men to excellence, and to prepare them for a happy imn
mortality.




WAR.
DISCOURSE
BEFORE THIE
CONPGREGATIONAL MINISTERS OF MASSACHUSETTSo
BOSTON, 1816.
ISAIAH ii. 4: "Nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more."
I HAVE chosen a subject, which may seem at first view
not altogether appropriate to the present occasion, the
subject of WAR.  It may be thought, that an address to
an assembly composed chiefly of the ministers of religion,
should be confined to the duties, dangers, encouragements of the sacred office.  But I have been induced to
select'this topic, because, after the slumber of ages,
Christians seem to be awakening to a sense of the pacific
character of their religion, and because I understood,
that this Convention were at this anniversary to consider
the interesting question, whether no method could be
devised for enlightening the public mind on the nature
and guilt of war. I was unwilling that this subject
should be approached and dismissed as an ordinary
affair.  I feared, that, in the pressure of business, we
3 *




30                      wa".b
might be satisfied with the expression of customary disapprobation; and that, having in -this way relieved our
consciences, we should relapse into our fbrmer indifference, and continue to hear the howlings of this dreadfIl storm  of human passions with as mnuch unconcern
as before.  I resolved to urge on you the duty, and I
hoped to excite in you the purpose, of making some
new and persevering efforts for the abolition of this w6rst
vestige of barbarism, this grossest outrage on the principles of Christianity. The day I trust is coming, when
Christians will look back with gratitude and affection
on those men, who, in ages of conflict and bloodshed,
cherished generous hopes of human improvement, withstood the' violence of corrupt opinion, held forth, amidst
the general darkness, the pure and mild light of Christianity, and thus ushered in a new and peaceful era in
the history of mankind.  May you, my brethren, be
included in the grateful recollection of that day.
The miseries and crimes of war, its sources, its remedies, will be the subjects of our present attention.
In detailing its miseries and crimes, there is no temptation to recui to unreal or exaggerated horrors.  No
depth of coloring can approach reality.  It is lamentable, that we need a delineation of the calamities of
war, to rouse us to exertion.  The mere idea of human
beings employing every power and faculty in the work of
mutual destruction, ought to send a shuddering through
the frame.  But on this subject, our sensibilities are
dreadfully sluggish and dead.  Our ordinary sympathies
seem- to forsake us, when war is named.  The sufferings and death of a single fellow-being often excite a
tender and active compassion; but we hear without
emotion of thousands enduring every variety of woe in




WAR.                      31
war.  A  single murder in peace thrills through our
frames.  The countless murders of war are heard as
an amusing tale.  The execution of a criminal depresses the mind, and philanthropy is laboring to substitute
milder punishments for death.  But benevolence has
hardly made an effort to snatch from  sudden and untimely death, the innumerable victims immolated on the
altar of war.  This insensibility demands that the miseries and crimes of war should be placed before us with
minuteness, with energy, with strong and indignant feeling.
The miseries of war may be easily conceived from
its very nature.  By war, we understand the resort of
nations to force, violence, and the most dreaded methods of destruction and devastation. In war, the strength,
skill, courage, energy, and resources of a whole people
are concentrated for the infliction of pain and death.
The bowels of the earth are explored, the most active
elements combined, the resources of art and nature exhausted, to increase the power of man in destroying his
fellow-creatures.
Would you learn what destruction man, when thus
aided, can spread around him?  Look, then, at that
extensive region, desolate and overspread with ruins;
its forests rent, as if blasted by lightning; its villages
prostrated, as by an earthquake; its fields barren, as
if swept by storms. Not long ago, the sun shone on
no happier spot. But ravaging armies prowled over it;
war frowned on it; and its fiuitfulness and happiness
are fled.  Here thousands and ten thousands were gathered fiom distant provinces, not to embrace as brethren, but to renounce the tie of brotherhood; and thousands, in the vigor of life, when least prepared for




32                        Wl"WtA.
death, were hewn down and scattered like chaff before
the whirlwind.
Repair, my friends, in thought, to a field of recent
battle.  Here, are heaps of slain, weltering in their
own blood, their bodies mangled, their limbs shattered,
and almost every vestige of the human form and countenance destroyed. Here, are multitudes trodden under
foot, and the war-horse has left the trace of his hoof
in many a crushed and mutilated frame.  Here, are
severer sufferers; they live, but live without hope or
consolation.  Justice despatches the criminal with a singile stroke; but the victims of war, falling by casual,
undirected blows, often expire in lingering agony, their
deep groans moving no compassion, their limbs writhing on the earth with pain, their lips parched with a
burning thirst, their wounds open to the chilling air,
the memory of home rushing on their minds, but not
a voice of friendship or comfort reaching their ears.
Amidst this scene of horrors, you see the bird and
beast of prey gorging themselves with the dead or dying, and human plunderers rifling the warm and almost
palpitating remains of the slain.  If you extend your
eye beyond the immediate field of battle, and follow
the track of the victorious and pursuing army, you
see the roads strewed with the dead; you see scattered
flocks, and harvests trampled under foot, the smoking
ruins of cottages, and the miserable inhabitants flying
in want and despair; and even yet, the horrors of a
single battle are not exhausted.  Some of the deepest
pangs which it inflicts, are silent, retired, enduring, to
be read in the widow's countenance, in the unprotected
orphan, in the aged parent, in affection cherishing the
memory of the slain, and weeping that it could not minister to their last pangs.




WAR.                      33
I have asked you to traverse, in thought, a field of
battle.  There is another scene often presented in war,
perhaps more terrible.  I refer to a besieged city.  The
most horrible pages in histroy are those which record
the reduction of strongly fortified places.  In a besieged
city, are collected all descriptions and ages of mankind,
women, children, the old, the infirm. Day and night,
the weapons of death and conflagration fly around them
They see the approaches of the foe, the trembling bulwark, and the fainting strength of their defenders. They
are worn with famine, and on famine presses pestilence.  At length the assault is made, every barrier
is broken down, and a lawless soldiery, exasperated by
resistance, and burning with lust and cruelty, are scattered through the streets.  The domestic retreat is violated; and even the house of God is no longer a sanctuary.  Venerable age is no protection, female purity
no defence.  Is woman spared amidst the slaughter
of father, brother, husband, and son?  She is spared
for a fate, which makes death in comparison a merciful
doom. With such heart-rending scenes history abounds;
and what better fruits can you expect from war?
These views are the most obvious and striking which
war presents.  There are more secret influences, appealing less powerfully to the senses and imagination,
but deeply affecting to a reflecting and benevolent mind.
— Consider, first, the condition of those who are immediately engaged in war?   The sufferings of soldiers
from battle we have seen; but their sufferings are not
limited to the period of conflict.  The whole of war is
a succession of exposures too severe for human nature.
Death employs other weapons than the sword.  It is
computed, that in ordinary wars, greater numbers per




34                      1W A R.
ish by sickness than in battle.  Exhausted by long and
rapid marches, by unwholesome food, by exposure to
storms, by excessive labor under a burning sly through
the day, and by interrupted and restless sleep on the
damp ground and in the chilling atmosphere of night,
thousands after thousands of tile young pine away and
die. They anticipated that they should fall, if to fall
should be their lot, in wh.at they called the field of honor; but they perish in the inglorious and crowded hospital, surrounded with sights and sounds of woe, far
from  home and every friend, and denied those tender
offices which sickness and expiring nature require.
Consider next the influence of war on the character
of those who make it their trade.  They let themselves
for slaughter, place themiselves servile instruments, passive miachines, in the hands of rulers, to execute the
bloodiest mandates, without a thought on the justice of
the cause in which they are engaged.  WThat a school
is this for the hunan character!  From men trained in
battle to ferocity, accustomed to the perpetration of
cruel deeds, accustomed to take human life without sorrow or remorse, habituated to esteem an unthinking
courage a substitute for every virtue, encouraged by
plunder of prodigality, taught improvidence by perpetual hazard and exposure, restrained only by an iron discipline which is withdrawn in peace, and unfitted by
the restless and irregular career of war for the calm  and
uniform  pursuits of ordinary life; fiom such men, what
ought to be expected but contempt of human rights and
of the laws of God? From the nature of his calling, the
soldier is almnost driven to sport with the thought of
death, to defy and deride it, and, of course, to banish
the thought of that retribution to which it leads; and,




WAR.                      03
though of all men the most exposed to sudden death,
he is too often of all men most unprepared to appear
before his Judge.
The influence of war on the community at large, on
its prosperity, its morals, and its political institutions,
though less striking than on the soldiery, is yet baleful.
How  often is a community impoverished to sustain a
war in which it has no interest?  Public burdens are
aggravated, whilst the means of sustaining them are reduced.  Internal improvements are neglected.  The
revenue of the state is exhausted in military establishments, or flows through secret channels into the coffers
of corrupt men, whom war exalts to power and office.
The regular employments of peace are disturbed.  Industry in many of its branches is suspended.  The
laborer, ground with want, and driven to despair by the
clamor of his suffering family, becomes a soldier in
a cause which he condemns, and thus the country is
drained of its most effective population.  The people
are stripped and reduced, whilst the authors of war
retrench not a comfort, and often fatten on the spoils
and woes of their country.
The influence of war on the morals of society is also
to be deprecated.  The suspension of industry multiplies want; and criminal modes of subsistence are the
resource of the suffering.  Commerce, shackled and
endangered, loses its upright and honorable character,
and becomes a system of stratagem and collusion.  In
war, the mnoral sentiments of a community are perverted
by the admiration of military exploits.  The milder
virtues of Christianity are eclipsed by the baleful lustre
thrown round a ferocious courage.  The disinterested,
the benignant, the merciful, the forgiving, those whom




3 6                      ikVo,AR
Jesus has pronounced blessed and honorable, must give
place to the hero, whose character is stained not only
with blood, but sometimes with the foulest vices, but
all whose stains are washed away by victory.  War
especially injures the moral feelings of a people, by
making human nature cheap in their estimation, and human life of as little worth as that of an insect or a brute.
5War diffuses through a community unfriendly and
malignant passions.  Nations, exasperated by mutual
injuries, burn for each others' humiliation and ruin.
They delight to hear that famine, pestilence, want, defeat, and the most dreadful scourges which Providence
sends on a guilty world, are desolating a hostile community.  The slaughter of thousands of fellow-beings,
instead of awakening pity, flushes them with delirious
joy, illuminates the city, and dissolves the whole country
in revelry and riot.  Thus the heart of man is hardened.  His worst passions are nourished.  He renounces the bonds and sympathies of humanity. Were the
prayers, or rather the curses of warring nations preva,
lent in heaven, the whole earth would long since have
become a desert.  The human race, with all their labors and improvements, would have perished under the
sentence of universal extermination.
But war not only assails the prosperity and morals
of a community; its influence on the political condition
is threatening.  It arms government with a dangerous
patronage, multiplies dependents and instruments of oppression, and generates a power, which, in the hands
of the energetic and aspiring, endangers a free constitution. War organizes a body of men, who lose the
feelings of the citizen in the soldier; whose habits d(etach them from  the community; whose ruling passion




WARo.3
Is devotion to a chief; who are inured in the camp to
despotic sway; who are accustomed to accomplish their
ends by force, and to sport with the rights and happiness of their fellow-beings; who delight in tumult,
adventure, and peril; and turn with disgust and scorn
from  the quiet labors of peace.  Is it wonderful, that,
such protectors of a state should look with contempt on
the weakness of the protected, and should lend themselves base instruments to the subversion of that freedom
which they do not themselves enjoy? In a community,
in which precedence is given to the military profession,
freedom  cannot long endure.  The encroachments of
power at hom-e are expiated by foreign triumphs.  The
essential interests and rights of the state are sacrificed
to a false and fatal glory.  Its intelligence and vigor,
instead of presenting a bulwark to domestic usurpation,
are expended in military achievements.  Its most active
and aspiring citizens rush to the army,'and become subservient to the power which dispenses honor.  The
nation is victorious, but the recompense of its toil, is
a yoke as galling as that which it imposes on other
communities.
Thus, war is to be ranked among the most dreadful
calamities which fall on a guilty world; and, what deserves consideration, it tends to multiply and perpetuate
itself without end.  It feeds and grows on the blood
which it sheds.  The passions, from  which it springs,
gain strength and fury from' indulgence.  The successful nation, flushed by victory, pants for new  laurels;
whilst the humbled nation, irritated by defeat, is impatient to redeem  its honor and repair its losses.  Peace
becomes a truce, a feverish repose, a respite to sharpen
anew  the sword, and to prepare for future struggles
vOL, II.              4




.                       mp8 WAIt
Under professions of friendship, lurk hatred and dls-e
trust; and a spark suffices to renew  the mighty conflagration.  When from these causes, large military establishments are formed, and a military spirit kindled,
war becomes a necessary part of policy. A foreign field
must be found for the energies and passions of a martial
people.  To disband a numerous and veteran soldiery,
would be to let loose a dangerous horde on society.
The blood-hounds must be sent forth on other communities, lest they rend the bosom of their own country.
Thus war extends and multiplies itself.  No sooner is
one storm scattered, than the sky is darkened with the
gathering horrors of another.  Accordingly, war has
been the mournful legacy of every generation to that
which succeeds it.  Every age has had its conflicts.
Every country has in turn been the seat of devastation
and slaughter.  The dearest interest and rights of every
nation have been again and again committed to the hazards of a game, of all others the most uncertain, and in
which, from its very nature, success too often attends on
the fiercest courage and the basest fraud.
Such, my friends, is an unexaggerated, and, I will
add, a faint delineation of the miseries of war; and to
all these miseries and crimes the human race have been
continually exposed, for no worthier cause, than to enlarge an empire already tottering under its unwieldy
weight, to extend an iron despotism, to support some
idle pretension, to repel some unreal or exaggerated
injury. F'or no worthier cause, human blood has been
poured out as water, and millions of rational and immortal beings have been driven like sheep to the field
of slaughter.




Having considered the crimes and miseries of war,
[ proceed, as I proposed, to inquire into its sources;
an important branch of our subject, for it is only by a
knowledge of the sources, that we can be guided to the
remedies of war.  And here, I doubt not, many will
imagine that the first place ought to be given to malignity and hatred.  But justice to human nature requires,
that we ascribe to national animosities a more limited
operation than is usually assigned to them, in the productioin of this calamity.  It is indeed true, that ambitious men, who have an interest in war, too often
accomplish their views by appealing to the malignant
feelings of a community, by exaggerating its wrongs,
ridiculing its forbearance, and reviving ancient jealousies and resentments.  But it is believed, that, were not
malignity and revenge aided by the concurrence of higher principles, the false splendor of this barbarous customn might easily be obscured, and its ravages stayed.
One of the great springs of war may be found in a
very strong and general propensity of human nature, in
the love of excitement, of emotion, of strong interest;
a propensity which gives a charm to those bold and
hazardous enterprises which call forth all the energies
of our nature.  No state of mind, not even positive
suffering, is more painful than the want of interesting
objects.   The vacant soul preys on itself, and often
rushes with impatience from the security which demands
no effort, to the brink of peril.  This part of human
nature is seen in the kind of pleasures which have
always been preferred.  Why has the first rank among
sports been given to the chase?  Because its difficulties, hardships, hazards, tumults, awaken the mind, and
give to it a new consciousness of existence, and a deep




feeling of its powers.  What is the charm  whicha aiF
taches the statesman to an office which almost weighs
him  down with labor and an appalling responsibility?
He finds much of his cormpensation in the powerful emolion and interest, awakened by the very hardships of his
lot, by conflict with  vigorous minds, by the opposition,
of rivals, and by the alternations of success and defeat.
WYhat hurries to tile gafming table the man of prosperous fortune and ample resource?  The dread of apathy,.
the love of strong feeling and of mental agitation.  A
deeper interest is felt in hazarding, than in securing
wealth, and the temptation is irresistible.  One more
example of this propensity may be seen in the attachment of pirates and highwaymen to their dreadful employment.  Its excess of peril has given it a terrible
interest; and to a man who has long conversed with
its dangers, the ordinary pursuits of life are vapid, tasteless, and disgusting.  We have here one spring of war.
War is of all games the deepest, awakening most powerfully the soul, and, of course, presenting powerful attraction to those restless and adventurous minds, which
pant for scenes of greater experiment and exposure than
peace affords.  The savage, finding in his uncultivatec
modes of life few objects of interest, few  sources of
emotion, burns for war as a field for his restless energy,
Civilized men, too, find a pleasure in war, as an excitement of the mind.  They follow, with an eaIger concern, the movements of armies, and wait the issue of
battles with a deep suspense, an alternation of hope and
fears inconceivably more interesting than the unvaried
uniformity of peaceful pursuits.
Another powerful principle of our nature, which is
the spring of war,. is the passion for superiority, for




iunlamph, for power.'Tilhe human mind is aspiring, impatient of inferiority, and eager for preeminence and
control.  I need not enlarge on the predominance of
this passion;in'rulers) whose love of power is influenced
by the possession,'and who are ever restless to extend
their sway.  It -is more important to observe, that, were
this desire restrained to the breasts of rulers, war would
tmove with a sluggish pace.  But the passion for power
and superiority is universal; and as every individual,
forn his intilmate union with the community, is accustomned'to appropriate its triumphs to himself, there is
a general promptness to engage in -any contest, by
which the community may obtain an ascendency over
other nations.  The desire, that our country should
surpass all others, would not be criminal, did we understand in what respects it is most honorable for a
nation to excel; did we feel, that the glory of a state
consists in intellectual and moral superiority, in pre-.eminence of knowledge, freedom, and purity.  But to
the mass of a people, this form  of preeminence is too
refined and unsubstantial.  There is another kind of
triumph, which they better understand, the triumph of
physical power, triumph in battle, triumph, not over
the minds, but the territory of another state.  Here is
a palpable, visible superiority; and for this, a people
are willing to submit to severe privations.  A victory
blots out the memory of their sufferings, and in boast
ing of their extended power, they find a compensation
for many woes.
I now proceed to another powerful spring of war,
and it is the admiration of the brilliant qualities displayed in war.  These qualities, more than all things,
have prevented an impression of the crimes and miseries
47 *c




of this savage custom.  Many delight in war, not Aim
its carnage and woes, but for its valor and apparent'
magnanimity, for the' self-command' of the hero, the
fortitude which despises suffering, the resolution which
courts danger, the superiority: of the mind to the body,to sensation, to fear.  Let us be just to human natureeven in its errors and excesses.  Men seldom delight in.
war, considered merely as a source of misery.  Wbhen
they hear of battles, the picture which rises to their
view is riot what it should be, a picture of extreme'
wretchedness, of the wounded, the mangled, the slain,
These horrors are hidden under the- splendor of those
mighty energies, which- break forth amidst the perils of
conflict, and which human nature contemplates with an
intense and heart-thrilling delight.  Attention hurries
from the heaps of the slaughtered to, the victorious
chief, whose single mind pervades and animates a host,.
and directs' with. stern composure the storm of battle-;
and the ruin which he spreads is forgotten in admirationof his power.  This adctmiration has, in all ages, been.
expressed by the most unequivocal signs.  Why that
garland. woven? that arch erected? that festive board
spread?  These are tributes' to the warrior.  Whilst
the peaceful sovereign, who scatters blessings with the
silence and constancy of Providence, is received witha fhint applause, men assemble in crowds to hail the
conqueror, perhaps a monster in human form,'whose
private life is blackened with lust and crime, and whose
greatness is built on perfidy and usurpation.  T'hus, war
is the surest and speediest -road to renown; and war will
never cease, while the field of battle is the field of
glory, and the most luxuriant laurels grow from  a root
nourished with blood.,




WAR.                       43
Another cause of war is a false patriotism.  It is a
natural and generous impulse of nature to love the country which gave us birth, by whose institutions we have
been moulded, by whose laws defended, and with whose
soil and scenery innumerable associations of early years,
of domestic affection, and of friendship, have been
formed.  But this sentiment often  degenerates into a
narrow, partial, exclusive attachment, alienating us from
other branches of the human family, and instigating to
aggression on other states.  In ancient times, this principle was developed with wonderful energy, and sometimes absorbed every other sentiment.  To the Roman,
Rome was the universe.  Other nations were of no
value but to grace her triumphs, and  illustrate her
power; and he, who in private life would have disdained
injustice and oppression, exulted in the successful violence by which other nations were bound to the chariotwheels of this mistress of the world.  This spirit still
exists.  The tie of country is thought to absolve mei
from  the obligations of universal justice and humanity.
Statesmen and rulers are expected to build up their own
country at the expense of others; and, in the false
patriotism of the citizen, they have a security for any
outrages, which are sanctioned by success.
Let mle mention one other spring of war.  I mean
the impressions we receive in early life.  In our early
years, we know war only as it offers itself to us at a review; not arrayed in terror, not stalking over fields of
the slain, and desolated regions, its eye flashing with
fury, and its sword reeking with blood.  War, as we
first see it, is decked with gay and splendid trappings,
and wears a countenance of joy.  It moves with a measured and graceful step to the sound of the heart-stirring




44                      WAt.
fife and drum.  Its instruments of death wound only the
air.  Such is war; the youthful eye is dazzled with its
ornaments; the youthful heart dances to its animated
sounds.  It seems a pastime full of spirit and activity)
the very sport in which youth delights.  These false
views of wvar are confirmed by our earliest reading.  We
are intoxicated with the exploits of the conqueror, as
recorded in real history or in glowing fiction.  We follow, with a sympathetic ardor, his rapid and triumphant
career in battle, and, unused as we are to suffering and
death, forget the fallen and miserable who are crushed
under his victorious car.  Particularly by the study of
the ancient poets and historians, the sentiments of early
and barbarous ages on the subject of war are kept alive
in the mind.  The trumpet, which roused the fury of
Achilles and of the hordes of Greece, still resounds in
our ears; -and, though Christians by profession, some
of our earliest and deepest impressions are received in
the school of uncivilized antiquity.  Even where these
impressions in favor of war are not received in youth,
we yet learn from our early familiarity with it, to consider it as a necessary evil, an essential part of our condition.  We become reconciled to it as to a fixed law
of our nature; and consider the thought of its abolition
as extravagant as an attempt to chain the winds or arrest
the lightning.
I have thus attempted to unfold the principal causes
of war.  They are, you perceive,.,of a moral nature.
The), may be resolved into wrong views of human
glory, and into excesses of passions and desires, which,
by right direction, would promote the best interests of
humanity. From these causes we learn, that this savage




WAR.                      45
custom is to be repressed by moral means, by salutary
influences on the sentiments and principles of mankind.
And thus we are led to our last topic, the remedies of
war.  In introducing the observations which I have to
offer on this branch of the subject, I feel myself bound
to suggest an important caution.  Let not the cause of
peace be injured by the assertion of extreme and indefensible principles.  I particularly refer to the principle,
that war is absolutely, and in all possible cases, unlawful,
and prohibited by Christianity. This doctrine is considered, by a great majority of the judicious and enlightened, as endangering the best interests of society; and
it ought not therefore to be connected with our efforts
for the diffusion of peace, unless it appear to us a clear
and indubitable truth. Var, as it is'commonly waged,
is indeed a tremendous evil; but national subjugation is
a greater evil than a war of defence; and a community
seems to me to possess an indisputable right to resort to
such a war, when all other means have failed for the
security of its existence or freedom.  It is universally
admitted, that a community may employ force to repress
the rapacity and violence of its own citizens, to disarm
and restrain its internal foes; and on what ground can we
deny to it the right of repelling the inroads and aggressions of a foreign power? If a government may not
lawfully resist a foreign army, invading its territory to
desolate and subdue, on what principles can we justify a
resistance of a combination of its own citizens for the
same injurious purpose? Government is instituted for
the very purpose of protecting the community from ail
violence, no matter by what hands it may be offered;
and rulers would be unfaithful to their trust, were they
to abandon the rights, interests, and improvements of




4136                    ETEWAR
society to unprincipled rapacity, whether of domestic or
foreign foes.
We are indeed told, that the language of Scripture is,
CC resist not evil."  But the Scriptures are given to us
as reasonable beings. We must remember, that, to the
renunciation of reason in the interpretation of Scripture,
we owe those absurdities, which have sunk Christianity
almost to the level of Heathenism.  If the precept to
"' resist not evil," admit no exception, then civil government is prostrated; then the magistrate must, in no case,
resist the injurious; then the subject must, in no case,
employ the aid of the laws to enforce his rights.  The
very end and office of government is, to resist evil men.
For this, the civil magistrate bears the sword; and he
should beware of interpretations of the Scriptures which
would lead him to bear it in vain.  The doctrine of the
absolute unlawfulness of war, is thought by its advocates
to be necessary to a successful opposition to this barbarous custom.  But, were we employed to restore
peace to a contentious neighbourhood, we should not
consider ourselves as obliged to teach, that self-defence
is in every possible case a crime; and equally useless is
this principle, in our labors for the pacification of the
world.  Without taking this uncertain and dangerous
ground, we may, and ought to assail war, by assailing
the principles and passions which gave it birth, and
by improving and exalting the moral sentiments of mankind.
For example; important service may be rendered to
the cause of peace, by communicating and enforcing just
and elevated sentiments in relation to the true honor of
rulers. Let us teach, that the prosperity, and not the
extent of a state, is the measure of a ruler's glory; that




WAIL                     47
the brute force and crooked policy which annex a conquest, are infinitely inferior to the wisdom, justice, and
beneficence, which make a country happy; and that the
earth holds not a more abandoned monster, than the
sovereign, who, intrusted with the dearest interests of a
people, commits them to the dreadful hazards of war,
that he may extend his prostituted power, and fill the
earth with his worthless name.  Let us exhibit to the
honor and veneration of mankind the character of the
Christian ruler, who, disdaining the cheap and vulgar
honor of a conqueror, aspires to a new and more enduring glory; who, casting away the long-tried weapons
of intrigue and violence, adheres with a holy and unshaken confidence to justice and philanthropy, as a nation's best defence; and who considers himself as
exalted by God, only that he may shed down blessings,
and be as a beneficent deity to the world.
To these instructions in relation to the true glory of
rulers, should be added, just sentiments as to the glory
of nations.  Let us teach, that the honor of a nation
consists, not in the forced and reluctant submission of
other states, but in equal laws and free institutions, in
cultivated fields and prosperous cities; in the developement of intellectual and moral power, in the diffusion
of knowledge, in magnanimity and justice, in the virtues and blessings of peace.  Let us never be weary
in reprobating that infernal spirit of conquest, by which
a nation becomes the terror and abhorrence of the
world, and inevitably prepares a tomb, at best a splendid
tomb, for its own liberties and prosperity.  Nothing has
seen more common, than for nations to imagine themselves great and glorious on the ground of foreign con.
quest, when at home they have been loaded with chains.




48                      WAR.
Cannot these gross and monstrous delusions be scattered? Can nothing be done to persuade Christian
nations to engage in a new and untried race of glory, in
generous competitions, in a noble contest for superiority
in wise legislation and internal improvements, in the
spirit of liberty and humanity?
Another most important method of promoting the
cause of peace is, to turn men's admiration from military
courage to qualities of real nobleness and dignity. It is
time that the childish admiration of courage should give
place to more manly sentiments; and, in proportion as
we effect this change, we shall shake the main pillar of
war, we shall rob military life of its chief attraction.
Courage is a very doubtful quality, springing from very
different sources, and possessing a corresponding variety
of character.  Courage sometimes results fiom mental
weakness.  Peril is confronted, because the mind wants
comprehension to discern its extent.  This is often the
courage of youth, the courage of unreflecting ignorance,
-a contempt of peril because, peril is but dimly seen.
Courage still more frequently springs from physical tern
perament, from a rigid fibre and iron nerves, and deserves as little praise as the proportion of the form oi
the beauty of the countenance.  Again, every passion,
which is strong enough to overcome the passion of fear,
and to exclude by its vehemence the idea of danger,
communicates at least a temporary courage.  Thus revenge, when it burns with great fury, gives a terrible
energy to the mind, and has sometimes impelled men to
meet certain death, that they might inflict the same fate
on an enemy.  You see the doubtful nature of courage.
It is often associated with the worst vices.  The most
wonderful examples of' it may be found in the history of




WAR.                     49
pirates and robbers, whose fearlessness is generally proportioned to the insensibility of their consciences, and
to the enormity of their crimes.  Courage is also exhibited with astonishing power in barbarous countries,
where the child is trained to despise the hardships and
pains to which he is exposed by his condition; where
the absence of civil laws obliges every man to be his
own defender; and where, from the imperfection of
moral sentiment, corporeal strength and ferocious courage
are counted the noblest qualities of human nature. The
common courage of armies is equally worthless with that
of the pirate and the savage.  A considerable part of
almost every army, so far from deriving their resolution
from love of country and a sense of justice, can hardly
be said to have a country, and have been driven into the
ranks by necessities, which were generated by vice.
These are the brave soldiers, whose praises we hear;
brave from the absence of all reflection; prodigal of
life, because their vices have robbed life of its blessings;
brave from sympathy; brave from the thirst of plunder;
and especially brave, because the sword of martial law is
hanging over their heads.  Accordingly, military courage is easily attained by the most debased and unprincipled men.  The common drunkard of the streets, who
is enlisted in a fit of intoxication, when thrown into the
ranks among the unthinking and profane, subjected to the
rigor of martial discipline, familiarized by exposure to
the idea of danger, and menaced with death if he betray a symptom of fear, becomes as brave as his officer,
whose courage may often be traced to the same dread
of punishment, and to fear of severer infamy than attends on the cowardice of the common soldier.  Let
the tribute of honor be fireely and liberally given to the
VOL. II.               5




50                      WAL.
soldier of principle, who exposes his life for a cause
which his conscience approves, and who mingles clemency and mercy with the joy of triumph.  But as for
the multitudes of military men, who regard war as a
trade by which to thrive, who hire themselves to fight
and slay in any cause, and who destroy their fellowbeings with as little concern, as the husbandman does the
vermin that infest his fields, I know no class of men on
whom admiration can more unjustly and more injuriously
be bestowed.  Let us labor, my brethren, to direct the
admiration and love of mankind to another and infinitely
higher kind of greatness, to that true magnanimity, which
is prodigal of ease and life in the service of God and
mankind, and which proves its courage by unshaken adherence, amidst scorn and danger, to truth and virtue.
Let the records of past ages be explored, to rescue from
oblivion, not the wasteful conqueror, whose path was as
the whirlwind, but the benefactors of the human races
martyrs to the interests of freedom and religion, men
who have broken the chain of the slave, who have traversed the earth to shed consolation into the cell of the
prisoner, or whose sublime faculties have explored and
revealed useful and ennobling truths.  Can nothing be
done to hasten the time, when to such men eloquence
and poetry shall offer their glowing homage, - when for
these the statue and monument shall be erected, the
canvass be animated, and the laurel entwined,- and
when to these the admiration of the young shall be
directed, as their guides and forerunners to glory and
immortality?
I proceed to another method of promoting the cause
of peace. Let Christian ministers exhibit with greater
clearness and distinctness, than ever they have done,




WAR.                       51
the pacific and benevolent spirit of Christianity.  My
brethren, this spirit ought to hold the same place in our
preaching, which it holds in the Gospel of our Lord.
Instead of being crowded and lost among other subjects,
it should stand in the front of Christian graces; it should
be inculcated as the life and essence of our religion.  We
should teach men, that charity is greater than faith and
hope; that God is love or benevolence; and that love
is the brightest communication of divinity to the human
soul.  We should exhibit Jesus in all the amiableness
of his: character, now  shedding tears over Jerusalem,
and now, his blood on Calvary, and in his last hours
recommending his own sublime love as the badge and
distinction of his followers. We should teach men, that
it is the property of the benevolence of Christianity, to
diffuse itself like the light and rain of heaven, to disdain the limits of rivers, mountains, or oceans, by
which nations are divided, and to embrace every human
being as a brother.  Let us never forget, that our
preaching is evangelical,, just in proportion as it inculcates and awakens this disinterested and unbounded
charity; and that our hearers are Christians, just as
far and no farther than they delight in peace and beneficence.
It is a painful truth, which ought not to be suppressed,
that the pacific influence of the Gospel has been greatly
obstructed by the disposition, which has prevailed in all
ages, and especially among Christian ministers, to give
importance to the peculiarities of sects, and to rear walls
of partition between different denomninations.  Shame
ought to cover the face of the believer, when he remembers, that under no religion have intolerance and persecution raged more fiercely than under the Gospel of the




52                      WAR.
meek and forbearing Saviour. Christians have made the
earth to reek with blood and to resound with denunciation. Can we wonder, that, while the spirit of war has
been cherished in the very bosom of the church, it has
continued to ravage among the nations?  Were the true
spirit of Christianity to be inculcated with but half the
zeal, which has been wasted on doubtful and disputed
doctrines, a sympathy, a cooperation might in a very
short time be produced among Christians of every nation, most propitious to the pacification of the world.
In consequence of the progress of knowledge and the
extension of commerce, Christians of both hemispheres
are at this moment brought nearer to one another, than
at any former period; and an intercourse, founded on
religious sympathies, is gradually connecting the most
distant regions.  What a powerful weapon is furnished
by this new bond of union to the ministers and friends
of peace! Should not the auspicious moment be seized
to inculcate on all Christians, in all regions, that they
owe their first allegiance to their common Lord in heaven, whose first, and last, and great command is, love?
Should they not be taught to look with a shuddering abhorrence on war, which continually summons to the field
of battle, under opposing standards, the followers of the
same Saviour, and commands them to imbrue their
hands in each others' blood?  Once let Christians of
every nation be brought to espouse the cause of peace
with one heart and one voice, and their labor will not be
in vain in the Lord.  Human affairs will rapidly assume
a new and milder aspect.  The predicted ages of peace
will dawn on the world. Public opinion will be purified.
The false' lustre of the hero will grow dim. A nobler
order of character will be admired and diffused.  The




WAin.                     53
kingdoms of the world will gradually become the kingdonms of God and of his Christ.
My friends, I did intend, but I have not time, to notice the arguments which are urged in support of war.
Let me only say, that the common argument, that war
is necessary to awaken the boldness, energy, and noblest qualities of human nature, will, I hope, receive a
practical refutation in the friends of philanthropy and
peace.  Let it appear in your lives, that you need not
this spark from hell to kindle a heroic resolution in
your breasts.  Let it appear, that a pacific spirit has
no affinity with a tame and feeble character.  Let us
prove, that courage, the virtue which has been thought
to flourish most in the rough field of war, may be reared
to a more generous height, and to a firmer texture, in
the bosom of peace.  Let it be seen, that it is not fear,
but principle, which has made us the enemies of war.
In every enterprise of philanthropy which demands dare
ing, and sacrifice, and exposure to hardship and toil,
let us embark with serenity and joy.  Be it our part, to
exhibit an undaunted, unshaken, unwearied resolution,
not in spreading ruin, but in serving God and mankind,
in alleviating human misery, in diffusing truth and virtue, and especially in opposing war.   The doctrines
of Christianity have had many martyrs. Let us be
willing, if God shall require it, to be martyrs to its
spirit, the neglected, insulted spirit of peace and love.
In a better service we cannot live; in a nobler cause
we cannot die.  It is the cause of Jesus Christ, Supported by Almighty Goodness, and appointed to triumph
over the passions and delusions of men, the customs of
ages, and the fallen monuments of the forgotten conD
p3ueror.
5*




54                       WAI.
NOTE.
I have deferred to this place a few remarks on the ar.
guments which are usually adduced in support of war.
War, it is said, kindles patriotism; by fighting for our
country, we learn to love it. But the patriotism which is
cherished by war, is ordinarily false and spurious, a vice
and not a virtue, a scourge to the world, a narrow, uniust passion, which aims to exalt a particular state on the
humiliation and destruction of other nations. A genuine,
enlightened patriot discerns, that the welfare of his own
country is involved in the general progress of society;
and, in the character of a patriot, as well as of a Christian, he rejoices in the liberty and prosperity of other
communities, and is anxious to maintain with them the
relations of peace and amity.
It is said, that a military spirit is the defence of a
country. But it more frequently endangers the vital interests of a nation, by embroiling it with other states.
This spirit, like every other passion, is impatient for
gratification, and often precipitates a country into unnecessary war. A people have no need of a military
spirit.  Let them  be attached to their government and
institutions by habit, by early associations, and especially
by experimental conviction of their excellence, and they
will never want means or spirit to defend them.
~War is recommended as a method of redressing national grievances.  But unhappily, the weapons of war,
from  their very nature, are often wielded most successfully by the unprincipled.  Justice and force have little




WAn.                      55
congeniality. Should not Christians everywhere strive
to promote the reference of national as well as of individual disputes to an impartial umpire? Is a project of
this nature more extravagant than the idea of reducing
ravage hordes to a state of regular society? The last
has been accomplished. Is the first to be abandoned
in despair?
It is said, that war sweeps off the idle, dissolute, and
vicious members of the community. Monstrous argument! If a government may for this end plunge a nation into war, it may with equal justice consign to the
executioner any number of its subjects, whom it may
deem a burden on the state.  The fact is, that war commonly generates as many profligates as it destroys. A
disbanded army fills the community with at least as many
abandoned members as at first it absorbed. There is
another method, not quite so summary as war, of ridding
a country of unprofitable and injurious citizens, but vastly more effectual; and a method, which will be applied
with spirit and success, just in proportion as war shall
yield to the light and spirit of Christianity. I refer to
the exertions, which Christians have commenced, for the
reformation and improvement of the ignorant and poor,
and especially for the instruction and moral culture of
indigent children. Christians are entreated to persevere
and abound in these: godlike efforts. By diffusing moral
and religious principles and sober and industrious habits
through the laboring classes of society, they will dry up
one important source of war.  They will destroy in a
considerable degree the materials of armies. In proportion as these classes become well principled and industrious, poverty will disappear, the population of a country
will be more and more proportioned to its resources, and of
course the number will be diminished of those, who have
no alternative but beggary or a camp. The moral care




which is at the present day extended to the poor, iL ono
of the most honorable features of our age.  Christians1
remember that your proper warfare is with ignorance and
vice, and exhibit here the same unwearied and inventive
energy, which has marked the warriors of the world.
It is sometimes said, that a military spirit favors liberty. But how is it, that nations, after fighting for ages,
are so generally enslaved? The truth is, that liberty
has no foundation but in private and public virtue;-and
virtue, as we have seen, is not the common growth of
war.
But the great argument remains to be discussed. It is
said, that, without war to excite and invigorate the human
mind, some of its noblest energies will slumber, and its
highest qualities, courage, magnanimity, fortitude, will
perish. To this I answer, that if war is to be encouraged
among nations, because it nourishes energy and heroism,
on the same principle war in our families, and war between neighbourhoods, villages, and cities' ought to be
encouraged; for such contests would equally tend to
promote heroic daring and contempt of death.  Why
shall not different provinces of the same empire annually
meet with the weapons of death, to keep alive their courage? We shrink at this suggestion with horror; but
why shall contests of nations, rather than of provinces or
families, find shelter under this barbarous argument?
I observe again; if war be a blessing, because it
awakens energy and courage, then the savage state is
peculiarly privileged; for every savage is a soldier and
his whole modes of life tend to form him to invincible
resolution. On the same principle, those early periods
of society were happy, when men were called to contend,
not only with one another but with beasts of prey; for to
these excitements we owe the heroism  of Hercules and
Theseus.  On the same principle, the feudal ages were,




WAR.                      57
more favored than the present; for then every baron
was a military chief, every castle frowned defiance, and
every vassal was trained to arms. And do we really wish,
that the earth should again be overrun with monsters, or
abandoned to savage or feudal violence, in order that heroes may be multiplied? If not, let us cease to vindicate
war as affording excitement to energy and courage.
I repeat, what I have observed in the preceding discourse, we need not war to awaken human energy.
There is at least equal scope for courage and magnanimity in blessing, as in destroying mankind. The condition of the human race offers inexhaustible objects for
enterprise, and fortitude, and magnanimity.  In relieving
the countless wants and sorrows of the world, in exploring unknown regions, in carrying the arts and virtues of
civilization to unimproved communities, in extending the
bounds of knowledge, in diffusing the spirit of freedom,
and especially in spreading the light and influence of
Christianity, how much may be dared, how much endured! Philanthropy invites us to services, which demand the most intense, and elevated, and resolute, and
adventurous activity. Let it not be imagined, that, were
nations imbued with the spirit of Christianity, they would
slumber in ignoble ease; that, instead of the high-minded
murderers, who are formed on the present system of war,
we should have effeminate and timid slaves. Christian
benevolence is as active as it is forbearing. Let it once
form the character of a people, and it will attach them to
every important interest of society. It will call forth
sympathy in behalf of the suffering in every region under heaven.'It will give a new extension to the heart,
open a wider sphere to enterprise, inspire a courage of
exhaustless resource, and prompt to every sacrifice and
exposure for the improvement and happiness of the hummtan race. The energy of this principle has been tried




5.8                    WAR.
and displayed in the fortitude of the martyr, and in the
patient labors of those who have carried the Gospel into
the dreary abodes of idolatry. Away then with the argument, that war is needed as a nursery of heroism. The
school of the peaceful Redeemer is infinitely more adapted to teach the nobler, as well as the milder virtues,
which adorn humanity.




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
ORDINATION OF THE REV. JARED SPARKS.
BALTIMORE, 1819.
I THES. V. 21: "Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.'
THE peculiar circumstances of this occasion not only
justify, but seem to demand a departure from the course
generally followed by preachers at the introduction of
a brother into the sacred office.  It is usual to speak
of the nature, design, duties, and advantages of the
Christian ministry; and on these topics I should now
be happy to insist, did I not remember that a minister
is to be given this day to a religious society, whose
peculiarities of opinion have drawn upon them much
remark, and may I not add, much reproach.  M'iany
good minds, many sincere Christians, I am aware, are
apprehensive that the solemnities of this day are to give
a degree of influence to principles which they deem
false and injurious.  The fears and anxieties of such
men I respect; and, believing that they are grounded
in part on mistake, I have thouglht it my duty to lay




60)            UNITARIAN CI'RI5STIANITY.
before you, as clearly as I can, some of the distinguish~
ing opinions of that class of Christians in our country,
who are known to sympathize with this religious society.
I must ask your patience, for such a subject is not to
be despatched in a narrow compass.  I must also ask
you to remember, that it is impossible to exhibit, in a
single discourse, our views of every doctrine of Revelation, much less the differences of opinion which are
known to subsist among ourselves. I shall confine myself to topics,. on which our sentiments have been misrepresented, or which distinguish us most widely from
others.  May I not hope to be heard with candor?
God deliver us all from prejudice and unkindness, and
fill us with the love of truth and virtue.
There are two natural divisions under which my
thoughts will be arranged.  I shall endeavour to unfold,
Ist, The principles which we adopt in interpreting the
Scriptures.  And 2dly, Some of the doctrines, which
the Scriptures, so interpreted, seem  to us clearly to
express.
I. We regard the Scriptures as the records of God's
successive revelations to mankind, and particularly of
the last and most perfect revelation of his will by Jesus
Christ.  Whatever doctrines seem to us to be clearly
taught in the Scriptures, we receive without reserve
or exception.  We do not, however, attach equal importance to all the books in this collection.  Our religion, we believe, lies chiefly in the New Testament.
The dispensation of Moses, compared with that of Jesus, we consider as adapted to the childhood of the human race, a preparation for a nobler system, and chiefly
useful now  as serving to confirm  and  illustrate the




UNITARIAN CIHRISTIANITY.           6 
Christian Scriptures.  Jesus Christ is the only mn.ster
of Christians, and whatever he taught, either di. ring
his personal ministry, or by his inspired Apostles, we
regard as of divine authority, and profess to make the
rule of our lives.
This authority, which we give to the Scriptures, is
a reason, we conceive, for studying them with peculiar
care, and for inquiring anxiously into the principles of
interpretation, by which their true meaning may be
ascertained.  The principles adopted by the class of
Christians in whose name I speak, need to be explained,
because they are often misunderstood.  We are particularly accused of making an unwarrantable use of reason
in the interpretation  of Scripture.  We are said  to
exalt reason above revelation, to prefer our own wisdom
to God's.  Loose and undefined charges of this kind
are circulated so freely, that we think it due to ourselves, and to the cause of truth, to express our views
with some particularity.
Our leading  principle in interpreting  Scripture is
this, that the Bible is a book written for men, in the
language of men, and that its meaning is to be sought
in the same manner as that of other books.  We believe that God, when he speaks to the human race,
conforms, if we may so say, to the established rules of
speaking and writing.  How  else would the Scriptures
avail us more, than if communicated in an unknown
tongue?
Now all books, and all conversation, require in tie
reader or hearer the constant exercise of reason; or
their true import is only to be obtained by continual
comparison and inference.  Humran language, you well
know, admits various interpretatiolns; and every w-ord
VOL. II.              6




62             UNITARIAN CIIRISTIANITY.
and every sentence must be modified and explained according to the subject which is discussed, according to
the purposes, feelings, circumstances, and principles of
the writer, and according to the genius and idioms of
the language which he uses.  These are acknowledged
principles in the interpretation of human writings; and
a man, whose words we should explain without reference to these principles, would reproach us justly with
a criminal want of candor, and an intention of obscuring or distorting his meaning.
Were the Bible written in a language and style of its
own, did it consist of words, which admit but a single
sense, and of sentences wholly detached from each
other, there would be no place for the principles now
laid down. We could not reason about it, as about
other writings.  But such a book would be of little
worth; and perhaps, of all books, the Scriptures correspond least to this description. The Word of God
bears the stamp of the same hand, which we see in his
works.  It has infinite connexions and dependences.
Every proposition is linked with others, and is to be
compared with others; that its full and precise import
may be understood.  Nothing stands alone.  The New
Testament is built on the Old.  The Christian dispensation is a continuation of the Jewish, the completion of a vast scheme of providence, requiring great
extent of view in the reader.  Still more, the Bible
treats of subjects on which we receive ideas from other
sources besides itself; such subjects as the nature, passions, relations, and duties of man; and it expects us
to restrain and modify its language by the known truths,
which observation and experience furnish on these topics.
We profess not to know  a book, which demands a




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           63
more frequent exercise of reason than the Bible.  In
addition to the remarks now made on its infinite connexions, we may observe, that its style nowhere affects
the precision of science, or the accuracy of definition.
Its language is singularly glowing, bold, and figurative,
demanding more frequent departures from the literal
sense, than that of our own age and country, and consequently demanding more continual exercise of judgmnent.- We find, too, that the different portions of this
book, instead of being confined to general truths, refer
perpetually to the times when they were written, to
states of society, to modes of thinking, to controversies
in the church, to feelings and usages which have passed
away, anid without the knowledge of which we are constantly in danger of extending to all times, and places,
what was of temporary and local application. - We find,
too, that some of these books are strongly marked by
the genius and character of their respective writers,
that the Holy Spirit did not so guide the Apostles as
to suspend the peculiarities of their minds, and that a
knowledge of their feelings, and of the influences under
which they were placed, is one of the preparations for
understanding their writings.  With these views of the
Bible, we feel it our bounden duty to exercise our reason uponw it perpetually, to compare; to infer, to look
beyond the letter to the spirit, to seek in the nature of
the subject, and the aim of the writer, his true meaning; and, in general, to make use of what is known,
for explaining what is difficult, and for discovering new
truths.
Need I descend to particulars, to prove that the
Scriptures demand the exercise of reason?  Take, for
example, the style in which they generally speak of




64             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
God, and observe how  habitually they apply to him
human passions and organs.  Recollect the declarations
of Christ, that he came not: to send peace, but a sword;
that unless we eat his flesh, and:drink his blood, we
have no life in us; that we must hate father and mother, and pluck out the right eye; and a vast number of
passages equally bold and unlimited.  Recollect the
unqualified manner in which it is said of Christians, that
they possess all things, know all things, and can do all
things. Recollect the verbal contradiction between Paul
and James, and the apparent clashing of some parts of
Paul's writings with the general doctrines and end of
Christianity.  I might extend the enumeration indefinitely; and who does not see, that we must limit all
these passages by the known attributes of God, of
Jesus Christ, and of human nature, and by the circumstances under which they were written, so as to give
the language a quite different import from what it would
require, had it been applied to different beings, or used
in different connexions.
Enough has been said to show, in what sense we
make use of reason in interpreting Scripture.  From
a variety of possible interpretations, we select that which
accords with the nature of the subject and the state of
the writer, with the connexion of the passage, with the
general strain of Scripture, with the known character
and will of God, and with the obvious and acknowledged laws of nature.: In other words, we believe that
God never contradicts, in one part of Scripture, what
he teaches in another; and never contradicts, in revelation, what he teaches in his works and providence
And we therefore distrust every interpretation, which,
after deliberate attention, seems repugnant to any estab



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           65
lished truth.  We reason about the Bible precisely as
civilians do about the constitution under which wve live;
who, you know, are accustomed to limit one provision
of that venerable instrument by others, and to fix the
precise import of its parts, by inquiring into its general
spirit, into the intentions of its authors, and into the
prevalent feelings, impressions, and circumstances of
the time when it was framed.  Without these principles
of interpretation, we frankly acknowledge, that we cannot defend the divine authority of the Scriptures. Deny
us this latitude, and we must abandon this book to its
enemies.
We do not announce these principles as original, or
peculiar to ourselves.  All Christians occasionally adopt
them, not excepting those who most vehemently decry
them, when they happen to menace some favorite article of their creed.  All Christians are compelled to
use them in their controversies with infidels.  All sects
employ them  in their warfare with one another.  All
willingly avail themselves of reason, when it can be
pressed into the service of their own party, and only
complain of it, when its weapons wound themselves.
None reason more frequently than those from whom we
differ.  It is astonishing what a fabric they rear from
a few slight hints about thbfell of our first parents; and
how ingeniously they extract, from detached passages,
mysterious doctrines about the divine nature.  We do
not blame them for reasoning so abundantly, but for
violating the fundamental rules of reasoning, for sacrificing the plain to the obscure, and the general strain of
Scripture to a scanty number of insulated texts.
We object strongly to the contemptuous manner in
which human reason is often spoken of by our adver



66             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
saries, because it leads, we believe, to universal skepticism.   If reason be so dreadfully darkened by the
fall, that its most decisive judgments on religion are
unworthy of trust, then Christianity, and even natural
theology, must be abandoned; for the existence and
veracity of God, and the divine original of Christianity,
are conclusions of reason, and must stand or fall with
it. If revelation be at war with this faculty, it subverts
itself, for the great question of its truth is left by God
to be decided at the bar of reason.  It is worthy of remark, how nearly the bigot and the skeptic approach.
Both would annihilate our confidence in our faculties,
and both throw doubt and confusion over every truth.
We honor revelation too highly to make it the antagonist of reason, or to believe that it calls us to renounce
our highest powers.
We indeed grant, that the use of reason in religion
is accompanied with danger. But we ask any honest
man to look back on the history of the church, and say,
whether the renunciation of it be not still more dangerous.  Besides, it is a plain fact, that men reason as
erroneously on all subjects, as on religion.  Who does
not know the wild and groundless theories, which have
been framed in physical and political science?  But
who ever supposed, that we must cease to exercise reason on nature and society, because men have erred for
ages in explaining them? We grant, that the passions
continually, and sometimes fatally, disturb the rational
faculty in its inquiries into revelation.  -The ambitious
contrive to find doctrines in the Bible, which favor their
love of dominion.  The timid and dejected discover
there a gloomy system, and the mystical and fanatical, a
visionary theology.  The vicious can find examples or




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           67
assertions on which to build the hope of a late repentance, or of acceptance on easy terms.  The falsely
refined contrive to light on doctrines which have not
been soiled by vulgar handling.  But the passions do
not distract the reason in religious, any more than in
other inquiries, which excite strong and general interest; and this faculty, of consequence, is not to be renounced in religion, unless we are prepared to discard
it universally.  The true inference from the almost endless errors, which have darkened theology, is, not that
we are to neglect and disparage our powers, but to exert
them  more patiently, circumspectly, uprightly.  The
worst errors, after all, having sprung up in that church,
which proscribes reason, and demands from its members
implicit faith. The most pernicious doctrines have been
the growth of the darkest times, when the general credulity encouraged bad men and enthusiasts to broach
their dreams and inventions, and to stifle the faint remonstrances of reason, by the menaces of everlasting
perdition. Say what we may, God has given us a rational nature, and will call us to account for it.  We
may let it sleep, but we do so at our peril.  Revelation
is addressed to us as rational beings. We may wish, in
our sloth, that God had given us a system, demanding
no labor of comparing, limiting, and inferring.   But
such a system would be at variance with the whole character of our present existence; and it is the part of
wisdom to take revelation as it is given to us, and to interpret it by the help of the faculties, which it everywhere supposes, and on which it is founded.
To the views now given, an objection is commonly
urged from  the character of God.  We are told, that
God being infinitely wiser than men, his discoveries




65;        U8NITARiTAN CcR'STRANITYT
will surpass human reason.  In. a revelation from  suc B
a teacher, we ought to expect propositions, which we.
cannot reconcile with one another, and which may seem
to -contradict established truths;. and it becomes us noet
to question or explain them  away, but to believe, ant[
adore, and to subhait our weak and carnal, reason to
the Divine Word. To this objection, we have two short
answers.  We say, first, that it is impossible that a
teacher of infinite wisdom. should expose those, whom
he would teach, to:. infinite error.  But if once we admit,:
that propositions, which in their literal sense appear.
plainly repugnant to one. another, or to any known
truth, are still to be literally understood and received,
what possible'limit can we" set to the belief of contradictions? What shelter have we from the wildest fanaticism, which can always quote passages, that, in their
literal and obvious sense, give support to its extravagances?  How  can the Protestant escape from  transubstantiation, a doctrine most clearly taught us, if the
submission of reason, now  contended for, be a duty?
How  can we even hold fast the truth of revelation,
for if one apparent contradiction may-be true, so may
another, and the proposition, that Christianity is false:,
though involving inconsistency, may still be a verity?
We answer again, that, if God be infinitely wise, he
cannot sport with the understandings of his creatures.
A wise teacher discovers his wisdom in adapting himself
to the capacities of his pupils, not in perplexing them
with what is unintelligible, not in distressing them with
apparent contradictions, not in filling them with a skeptical distrust of their own powers.  An infinitely wise
teacher, who knows the precise extent of our mincds,
and the best method of enlightening them, will surpa-ss




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.            69
all other instructors in bringing down truth to our apprehension, and in showing its loveliness and harmony.
We ought, indeed, to expect occasional obscurity in
such a book as the Bible, which was written for past
and future ages, as well as for the present.  But God's
wisdom is a pledge, that whatever is necessary for us,
and necessary for salvation, is revealed too plainly to
be mistaken, and too consistently to be questioned, by
a sound and upright mind.  It is not the mark of wisdom, to use an unintelligible phraseology, to communicate what is above our capacities, to confuse and unsettle tile intellect by appearances of contradiction. VWe
honor our Heavenly Teacher too much to ascribe to
him such a revelation.  A  revelation is a gift of light.
It cannot thicken our darkness, and multiply our perplexities.
II. Having thus stated the principles according to
which we interpret Scripture, I now proceed to the
second great head of this discourse, which is, to state
some of the views which we derive from  that sacred
book, particularly those which distinguish us from other
Christians.
1. In the first place, we believe in the doctrine of
G(od's UNITY, or that there is one God, and one only.
To this truth we give infinite importance, and we feel
ourselves bound to take heed, lest any man spoil us of
it by vain philosophy.  The proposition, that there is
one God, seems to us exceedingly plain. We understand by it, that there is one being, one mind, one person, one intelligent agent, and one only, to whom underived and infinite perfection and dominion belong.
We conceive, that these words could have conveyed no




70              UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
other meaning to the simple and uncultivated people,
who were set apart to be the depositaries of this great
truth, and who were utterly incapable of understanding
those hair-breadth distinctions between being and person, which the sagacity of later ages has discovered.
We find no intieation, that this language was to be
taken in an unusual sense, or that God's unity was a
quite different thing from  the oneness of other intelligent beings.
We object to the doctrine of the Trinity, that, whilst
acknowledging in words, it subverts in effect, the unity
of God.  According to this doctrine, there are; three
infinite and equal persons, possessing supreme divinity,
called the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.  Each of
these persons, as described by theologians, has his own
particular consciousness, will, and perceptions.  They
love each other, converse with each other, and delight
in each other's society.  They perform  different parts
in man's redemption, each having his appropriate office,
and neither doing the work of the other. The Son is
mediator and not the Father.  The Father sends the
Son, and is not himself sent;. nor is he conscious, like
the Son, of taking flesh. Here, then, we have three intelligent agents., possessed of different consciousnesses,
different wills, and different perceptions, performing different acts, and sustaining different relations; and if
these things do not imply and constitute three minds
or beings,'we are, utterly at a loss to know how three
minds or beings are to be formed.  It is difference of
properties, and acts, and consciousness, which leads
us to the belief of different intelligent beings, and, if
this mark fails us, our whole knowledge falls; we have
no proof, that all thle agenDts and- person. in the ub.veIres




UNIITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.          71
are not one and the same mind.  When we attempt to
conceive of three Gods, we can do nothing more than
represent to ourselves three agents, distinguished from
each other by similar marks and peculiarities to those
which separate the -persons of the Trinity; and when
common Christians hear these persons spoken of as
conversing with each other, loving each other, and performing different acts, how can they help regarding them
as different beings, different minds?
We do, then, with all earnestness, though without
reproaching our brethren, protest against the irrational
and unscriptural doctrine of the Trinity.' To us," as
to the Apostle-and the primitive Christians, "there is
one God, even the Father."' With Jesus, we worship
the Father, as the only living and true God.  We are
astonished, that any man can read the New Testament,
and avoid the conviction, that the Father alone is God.
We hear our S'aviour continually appropriating this
character to the Father.  We find the Father continually distinguished from Jesus by this title.  " God sent
his Son."  " God anointed Jesus."  Now, how singular and inexplicable is this phraseology, which fills the
New Testament, if this title belong equally to Jesus,
and if a principal object of this book is to reveal him
as God, as partaking equally with the Father in supreme
divinity! We challenge our opponents to adduce one
passage in the New Testament, where the word God
means three persons, where it is not limited to one person, and where, unless turned from its usual sense by
the connexion, it does not mean the Father.  Carn
stronger proof be given, that the doctrine of three persons in the Godhead is not a fundamental doctrine of
Christianity?




72             UNirTARiAN CHWRl5TrIAM'Ti_
This doctrine, were it true, must, fiornom its difficulty,
singularity, and importance, have been laid down with
great clearness, guarded with great care, and stated withl
all possible precision.  But where does this statement
appear? From the many passages which treat of God,
we ask for one, one only, in which we are told, that he
is a threefold being, or that he is three persons, or that
he is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.  On the contrary,
in the New Testament, where, at least, we might expect many express assertions of this nature, God is
declared to be one, without the least attempt to prevent
the acceptation of the words in their common sense;
and he is always spoken of and addressed in the singular
number, that is, in language which was universally understood to intend a single person, and to which no
other idea could have been attached, without an express
admonition. So entirely do the Scriptures abstain from
stating the Trinity, that when our opponents would insert it into their creeds and doxologies, they are compelled to leave the Bible, and to invent forms of words
altogether unsanctioned by Scriptural phraseology. That
a doctrine so strange, so liable to misapprehension, so
fundamental as this is said to be, and requiring such
careful exposition, should be left so undefined and unprotected, to be made out by inference, and to be hunted
through distant and detached parts of Scripture, this is
a difficulty, which, we think, no ingenuity can explain.
We have another difficulty. Christianity, it must be
remembered, was planted and grew up amidst sharpsighted enemies, who overlooked no objectionable part
of the system, and who must have fastened with great
earnestness on a doctrine involving such apparent contradictions as the Trinity.  We cannot conceive an




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANTIPY.          73
pilnion, against which the Jews, who prided themselves
on an adherence to God's unity, would have raised an
equal clamor.  Now, how  happens' it, that in the
apostolic writings, which relate so much to objections
against Christianity, and to the controversies which
grew out of this religion, not one word is said, implying
that objections were brought against the Gospel from
the doctrine of the Trinity, not one word is uttered in
its defence and explanation, not a word to rescue it from
reproach and mistake?  This argument has almost the
force of demonstration.  We are persuaded, that had
three divine persons been announced by the first preachers of Christianity, all equal, and all infinite, one of
whom  was the very Jesus who had lately died on a
cross, this peculiarity of Christianity would have almost
absorbed every other, and the great labor of the Apos'tles would have been to repel the continual assaults,
which it would have awakened.  But the fact is, that
not a whisper of objection to Christianity, on that account, reaches our ears from the apostolic age.  In the
Epistles we see not a trace of controversy called forth
by the Trinity.
We have further objections to this doctrine, drawn
from its practical influence.  We regard it as unfavorable to devotion, by dividing'and distracting the mind
in its communion with God.  It is a great excellence
of the doctrine of God's unity, that it offers to us.ONE
OBJECT of supreme homage, adoration, and love, One
Infinite Father, one Being of beings, one original and
fountain, to whom we may refer all good, in whom  all
our powers and affections may be concentrated, and
whose lovely and venerable nature may pervade all our
thoughts.  True piety, when directed to an undivided
VOL. III.             7




74              UNITARIAN CHRISTIANIT'Y.
Deity, has a chasteness, a singleness, most favorable
to religious awe and love.  Now, the Trinity sets before us three distinct objects of supreme adoration;
three infinite persons, having equal claims on our hearts;
three divine agents, perforring  different offices, and to:be acknowledged and woirshipped in different relations.
And is it possible, we ask, that the weak and limited
mind of man can attach itself to these with the same
power and joy, as to One Infinite Father, the only First
Cause, in whom  all the blessings of nature and redemption meet as their centre and source?  Must not devotion be distracted by the equal and rival claims of
three equal persons, and(must not the worship of the
conscientious, consistent Christian, be disturbed by an
apprehension,, lest he withhold from  one or another of
these, his due proportion of homage?
We also think, that the doctrine of the Trinity injures devotion, not only by joining to the Father other
objects of worship, but by taking from the Father the
supreme affection, which is his due, and transferring
it to the Son.  This is a most important view.  That
Jesus Christ,- if exalted into the infinite Divinity, should
be more interesting than the Father, is precisely what
might be expected from history, and fiomn the principles
of himran nature.  Men want an object of worship like
themselves, and the great secret of idolatry lies in this
propensity.  A  God, clothed in our form, and feeling
our wants and sorrows, speaks to our weak nature morel
strongly, than a Father in heaven, a pure spirit, invisible and unapproachable, save by  the reflecting and
purified mind. -- We think, too, that the peculiar offices
ascribed to JesuIs by the popular theology, make him
the most attractive person in the Godhead.  The Fa



UNITARIAN CHIRISTIANITY            75
ther is the depositary of the justice, the vindicator of the
rights, the avenger of the laws of the Divinity. On the
other hand, the Son, the brightness of the divine mercy,
stands between the incensed Deity and guilty humanity,
exposes his meek head to the storms, and his compassionate breast to the sword of the divine justice, bears
our whole load of punishment, and purchases with his
blood every blessing which descends from heaven. Need
we state the effect of these representations, especially
on common minds, for whom Christianity was chiefly
designed, and whom it seeks to bring to the Father as
the loveliest being?  We do believe, that the worship
of a bleeding, suffering God, tends strongly to absorb
the mind, and to draw it from  other objects, just as the
human tenderness of the Virgin Marly has given her so
conspicuous a place in the devotions of the Church of
Rome.  We believe, too, that this worship, though attractive, is not most fitted to spiritualize the mind, that
it awakens human transport, rather than that deep ven-.
eration of the moral perfections of God, which is the
essence of piety.
2. Having thus given our views of the unity of. God,
I proceed in the second place to observe, that we believe in the unity of Jesus Christ.  We believe that
Jesus is one mind, one soul, ones being, as truly one as
we are, and equally distinct from  the one God.  We
complain of the doctrine of the Trinity, that, not satisfied with making God three beings, it makes Jesus Christ
two beings, and thus introduces infinite confusion into
our conceptions of his character.  This corruption of
Christianity, alike repugnant to common sense and to the
general strain of Scripture, is a remarkable proof of the
power of a false phlilosophy in disfiguring the Siphi tle
truth of Jesus,




76 UfINTAT IAN CHRISTIANITY.
According to- this doctrine, Jesus Christ, instead of
being one  mind, one c6nscious intelligent principle,
whom  we- can. understand, consists of two souls, two
minds.; the one divine, the other hui-nan; the one weak,
the other almighty; the one ignorant, the other omniscient.  Now we maintain,- that this is to. make Christ
two beings-. To denominate him o e perston, one being,
and yet to suppose hinm made iup of two mindcts, infinitely
different fronm  each- other, is to abuse and confound
Language, and to. throw darkness over all our conceptions
of intelligent natures.  According. to the common doctrine, each of these, two minds in Christ has its own consciousness, its own will, its owvn perceptions.  They
have, in fact, no common  properties..  The divine mind
feels none of the wants and sorrows of the human, andL
the human is infinitely removed from the perfection. and,
happiness of the divine.  Can you conceive of twoa
beings in the- universe more distinct?  We have always
thought that one person was constituted and distinguished
by one consciousness.  The doctrine, that one and the
same person. should have two consciousnesses, two wills,
two souls, infinitely different from  each other, this we
think an enormous tax on, human credulity.
We say, that if a doctrine, so strange, so difficult, so.
remote from  all the previous conceptions of men, be
indeed a part and an essential part of revelation, it must
be taught with great distinctness- and we ask our brethren. to point, to some plain- direct passage, where Christ
is said to: be, composed of two.- minds infinitely different,.
yet constituting one person.  WTe  ind none,-.  Other
Christians, indeed:, tell: us, that this doctrine is necessary
to the harmony of the Scriptures, that some texts ascrihe to Jesus. Christ human., land others. divine propes,




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           77
tes, and that to reconcile these, we must suppose two
minds, to which these properties may be referred.  In
other words, for the purpose of reconciling certain difficult passages, which a just criticism  can in a great
degree, if not wholly, explain, we must invent an hypothesis vastly more difficult, and involving gross absurdity. We are to find our way out of a labyrinth, by
a clue which conducts us into mazes infinitely more inextricableo
Surely, if Jesus Christ felt that he consisted of two
minds, and that this was a leading feature of his religion,
his phraseology respecting himself would have-been colored by this peculiarity.  The universal language of
men is framed upon the idea, that one person is one person, is one mind, and one soul; and when the multitude
heard this language from the lips of Jesus, they must
have taken it in its usual sense, and must have referred
to a single soul all which he spoke, unless expressly instructed to interpret it differently.  But where do we
find this instruction? Where do you meet, in the New
Testament, the phraseology which abounds in Trinitarian books, and which necessarily grows from the doctrine of two natures in Jesus?  Where does this divine
teacher say," This I speak as God, and this as man;
this is true only of my human mind, this only of my
divine "? Where do we find in the Epistles a trace
of this strange phraseology?  Nowhere.  It was not
needed in that day.  It was demanded by the errors of
a later age.
We believe, then, that Christ is one mind, one being,
and, I add, a being distinct from the one God.  That
Christ is not the one God, not the same being with the
Father., is a necessary inference from our former head,
7*




7 0            UNU7~ARSiAU R    CHRISIAiJTIANIT'Y.
in which we saw that the doctrine of three persons asB
God is a fiction. But on so important a subject, I
would add a few remarks.  We wish, that those from
whvoom we differ, would weigh one striking fact.  Jesus,
in his preaching, continually spoke of God.  The word,
was always in his mouth.  We ask, does he, by this:
word, ever mean himself?  We say, never.  On the
contrary, he most plainly distinguishes between God anms
himself, and so do his disciples.  How  this is to br
reconciled with the idea, that the manifestation of Christ,
as God, was a primary, object of Christianity, our'ad —
versaries must determine-.
If we examine the passages in which Jesus is distinl
guished from God, we- shall see, that they not only speak
of him as another being, but seem to labor to express
his inferiority.  He is continually spoken of as the Son
of God, sent of God, receiving all his powers from God,
working miracles because God was with him; judging
justly because God taught him, having claims on our belief, because he was anointed and sealed by God, and as
able of himself to do nothing.  The New Testament is
filledd with this language.  Now we ask, what impression
this language wtas fitted and intended to make? Could'
any, who heard it, have imagined that Jesus was the
very God to whom he was so industriously declared te
be inferior; the very Being by whom he was sent, ane
from whom he professed to have received his message~
and power? Let it here be remembered, that the human birth, and bodily form, and humble circumstances,
and mortal sufferings of Jesus, must all have prepared
men to interpret, in the most unqualifled manner, th6e
language in which his inferiority to God was declared.
Why, theni,  was this language used so continually, and




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           79
without limitation, if Jesus were the Supreme Deity,:and if this truth were an essential part of his religion?
I repeat it, the human condition and sufferings of Christ
tended strongly to exclude from men's minds the idea of
his proper Godhead; and, of course, we should expect
to find in the New Testament perpetual care and effort
to counteract this tendency, to hold him forth as the
same being with his Father, if this doctrine were, as is
pretended, the soul and centre of his religion.  We
should expect to find the phraseology of Scripture cast
into the mould of this doctrine, to hear familiarly of God
the Son, of our Lord God Jesus, and to be told, that
to us there is one God, even Jesus.  But, instead of
this, the inferiority of Christ pervades the New Testament. It is not only implied in the general phraseology,
but repeatedly and decidedly expressed, and unaccompanied with any admonition to prevent its application
to his whole nature.  Could it, then, have been the
great design of the sacred writers to exhibit Jesus as
the Supreme God?
I am aware that these remarks will be met by two or
three texts, in which Christ is called God, and by a
class of passages, not very numerous, in which divine
properties are said to be ascribed to him.  To these
we offer one plain answer.  We say, that it is one of
the most established and obvious principles of criticism,
that language is to be explained according to the known
properties of the subject to which it is applied.  Every
man knows, that the same words convey very different
ideas, when used in relation to different beings.  Thus,
Solomon built the temple in a different manner from  the
architect whom  he employed; and God repents differsently from  man.  Now  we maintain? ilat the known




80             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
properties and circumstances of Christ, his birth, sufferings, and death, his constant habit of speaking of God
as a distinct being from himself, his praying to God, his
ascribing to God all his power and offices, these acknowledged properties of Christ, we say, oblige us to interpret the comparatively few passages which are thought
to make him the Supreme God, in a manner consistent
with his distinct and inferior nature.  It is our duty to
explain such texts by the rule which we apply to other
texts, in which human beings are called gods, and are
said to be partakers of the divine nature, to know and
possess all things, and to be filled with all God's fulness.
These latter passages we do not hesitate to modify, and
restrain, and turn from the most obvious sense, because
this sense is opposed to the known properties of the
beings to whom they relate; and we maintain, that we
adhere to the same principle, and use no greater latitude,
in explaining, as we do, the passages which are thought
to support the Godhead of Christ.
Trinitarians profess to derive some important advantages from  their mode of viewing Christ.  It furnishes
them, they tell us, with an infinite atonement, for it
shows them an infinite being suffering for their sins.
The confidence with which this fallacy is repeated astonishes us. When pressed with the question, whether
they really believe, that the infinite and unchangeable
God suffered and died on the cross, they acknowledge
that this is not true, but that Christ's human mind alone
sustained the pains of death. How have we, then, an
infinite sufferer? This language seems to us an imposition on common minds, and very derogatory to God's
justice, as if this attribute could be satisfied by a sophism
and a fiction.




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           81
We are also told, that Christ is a more interesting
Dbject, that his love and mercy are more felt, when he
is viewed as the Supreme God, who left his glory to
take liumanity and to suffer for men.  That Trinitarians
are strongly moved by this representation, we do not
mean to deny; but we think their emotions altogether
founded on a misapprehension of their own doctrines.
They talk of the second person of the Trinity's leaving
his glory and his Father's bosom, to visit and save the
world.  But this second person, being the unchangeable
and infinite God, was evidently incapable of parting
with the least degree of his perfection and felicity.  At
the moment of his taking flesh, he was as intimately
present with his Father as before, and equally with his
Father filled heaven, and earth, and immensity.  This
Trinitarians acknowledge; and still they profess to be
touched and overwhelmed by the amazing humiliation
of this immutable being! But not only does their doctrine, when fully explained, reduce Christ's humiliation
to a fiction, it almost wholly destroys the impressions
with which his cross ought to be viewed.  According
to their doctrine, Christ was comparatively no sufferer
at all. It is true, his human mind suffered; but this,
they tell us, was an infinitely small part of Jesus, bearing no more proportion to his whole nature, than a
single hair of our heads to the whole body, or than a
drop to the ocean.  The divine mind of Christ, that
which was most properly himself, was infinitely happy,
at the very moment of the suffering of his humanity.
Whilst hanging on the cross, he was the happiest being
in the universe, as happy as the infinite Father; so that
his pains, compared with his felicity, were nothing.'['his Trinitarians do, and must, acknowledge.  It fol



82             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
lows necessarily from  the immutableness of the divine
nature, which they ascribe to Christ; so that their system, justly viewed, robs his death of interest, weakens
our sympathy with his sufferings, and is, of all others,
most unfavorable to a love of Christ, founded on a
sense of his sacrifices for mankind.  We esteem  our
own views to be vastly more affecting.  It is our belief,
that Christ's humiliation was real and entire, that the
whole Saviour, and not a part of him, suffered, that
his crucifixion was a scene of deep and unmixed agony.
As we stand round his cross, our minds are not distracted, nor our sensibility weakened, by contemplating
him as composed. of incongruous and infinitely differing
minds, and as having a balance of infinite felicity. We
recognise in the dying Jesus but one mind. This, we
think, renders his sufferings, and his patience and love
in bearing them, incomparably more impressive and affecting than the system we oppose.
3. Having thus given our belief on two great points,
namely, that there is one God, and that Jesus Christ
is a being distinct from, and inferior to, God, I now
proceed to another point, on which we lay still greater
stress.  We believe in the moral perfection of God
We consider no part of theology so important as that
wvhich treats of God's moral character; and we value
our views of- Christianity chiefly as they assert his amiable and venerable attributes.
It may be said, that, in regard to this subject, all
Christians agree, that all ascribe to the Supreme Being
infinite justice, goodness, and holiness.  We reply, that
it is very possible to speak of God magnificently, and
to think of him  meanly; to apply to his person highsounding epithets, and to his government, principles




UNITARIAN CIHRISTIANITY.           83
which make him odious. The Heathens called Jupiter
the greatest and the best; but his history was black
with cruelty and lust.  We cannot judge of men's real
ideas of God by their general language, for in all ages
they have hoped to soothe the Deity by adulation.  We
must inquire into their particular views of his purposes,
of the principles of his administration, and of his disposition towards his creatures.
We conceive that Christians have generally leaned
towards a very injurious view of the Supreme Being.
They have too often felt, as if he were raised, by his
greatness and sovereignty, above the principles of morality, above those eternal laws of equity and rectitude,
to which all other beings are subjected.  We believe,
that in no being is the sense of right so strong, so
omnipotent, as in God. We believe that his almighty
power is entirely submitted to his perceptions of rectitude; and this is the ground of our piety.  It is not
because he is our Creator merely, but because he created us for good and holy purposes; it is not because
his will is irresistible, but because his will is the perfection of virtue, that we pay him allegiance.  We cannot bow before a being, however great and powerful,
who governs tyrannically.  We respect nothing but excellence, whether on earth or in heaven.  We venerate
not the loftiness of God's throne, but the equity and
goodness in which it is established.
We believe that God is infinitely good, kind, benevolent, in the proper sense of these words; good in disposition, as well as in act; good, not to a few, but to
all; good to every individual, as well as to the general
system.
We believe, too, that God is just; but we'lever




84              UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
forget, that his justice is the justice of a good being,
dwelling in the same mind, and acting in harmony,
with perfect benevolence.  By this attribute, we understand God's infinite regard to virtue or moral worth,
expressed in a moral government; that is, in giving
excellent and equitable laws, and in conferring such rewards, and inflicting such punishments, as are best fitted
to secure their observance.  God's justice has for its
end the highest virtue of the creation, and it: punishes
for this end alone, and- thus it coincides with benevolence; for virtue and happiness, though not the same,
are inseparably conjoined.
God's justice thus viewed, appears to us to be in perfect harmony with his mercy.  According to the prevalent systems of theology, these attributes are so discordant and jarring, that to reconcile them is the hardest
task, and the most wonderful achievement, of infinite
wisdom.  To us they seem  to be intimate friends, always at peace, breathing the same spirit, and seeking
the same end. By God's mercy, we understand not a
blind instinctive compassion, which forgives without reflection, and without regard to the interests of virtue.
This, we acknowledge, would be incompatible with justice, and also with enlightened benevolence.   God's
mercy, as we understand it, desires stro>ngly the happiness of the guilty, but only through their penitence.  It
has a regard to character as truly as his justice.  It
defers punishment, and suffers long, that the sinner may
return to his duty, but leaves the impenitent and unyielding, to the fearful retribution threatened in God's
Word.
To give our views of God in one word, we believe
in his Parental character.  We ascribe to him, not only




UNIT'ARIAN CIRISTIANITY.           85
the name, but the dispositions and principles of a fa-i
ther.  We believe that he has a father's concern fori
his creatures, a father's desire for their improvement,
a father's equity in proportioning his commands to their
powers, a father's joy in their progress, a father's readiness to receive the penitent, and a father's justice for
the incorrigible.  We look upon this world as a place
of education, in which he is training men by prosperity
and adversity, by aids and obstructions, by conflicts of
reason and passion, by motives to duty and temptations
to sin, by a various discipline suited to free and moral
beings, for union with himself, and for a sublime and
ever-growing virtue in heaven.
Now, we object to the systems of religion, which
prevail among us, that they are adverse, in a greater
or less degree, to these purifying, comforting, and honorable views of God; that they take from  us our Father in heaven, and substitute for him a being, whom
we cannot love if we would, and whom we ought not to
love if we could. We object, particularly on this ground,
to that system, which arrogates to itself the name of
Orthodoxy, and which is now industriously propagated
through our country.  This system indeed takes various
shapes, but in all it casts dishonor on. the Creator.
According to its old and genuine form, it teaches, that
God brings us into life wholly depraved, so that under
the innocent features of our childhood is hidden a nature averse to all good and propense to all evil, a nature
which exposes us to God's displeasure and wrath, even
before we have acquired power to understand our duties, or to reflect upon our actions.  According to a
more modern exposition, it teaches, that we came from
the hands of our Maker with such a constitution, and arc
VOL. III.              8




86              UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
placed under such influences and circumstances, as to
render certain and infallible the total depravity of every
human being, from the first moment of his moral agency;
and it also teaches, that. the offence of the child, who
brings into life this ceaseless tendency to unmingled
crime, exposes him to the sentence of everlasting damnation. Now, according to the plainest principles of
morality, we maintain, that a natural constitution of the
mind, unfailingly disposing it to evil and to evil alone,
would absolve it from guilt; that to give existence under
this condition would argue unspeakable cruelty; and
that to punish the sin of this unhappily constituted child
with endless ruin, would be a wrong unparalleled by the
most merciless despotism.
This system also teaches, that God selects from this
corrupt mass a number to be saved, and plucks them,
by a special influence, froom the common ruin; that the
rest of mankind, though left without that special grace
which their conversion requires, are commanded to repent, under penalty of aggravated woe; and that forgiveness is promised them, on terms which their very
constitution infallibly disposes them to reject, and in
rejecting which they awfully enhance the punishments
of hell.  These proffers of forgiveness and exhortations
of amendment, to beings born under a blighting curse,
fill our minds with a horror which we want words to
express.
That this religious system does not produce all the
effects on character, which might be anticipated, we
most joyfully admit. It is often, very often, counteracted by nature, conscience, common sense, by the
general strain of Scripture, by the mild example and
precepts of Christ, and by the manly positive declara



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           87
tions of God's universal kindness and perfect equity.
But still we think that we see its unhappy influence.
It tends to discourage the timid, to give excuses to the
bad, to feed the vanity of the fanatical, and to offer
shelter to thebad feelings of the malignant.  By shocking, as it does, the fundamental principles of morality.
and by exhibiting a severe and partial Deity, it tends
strongly to pervert the moral faculty, to form a gloomy,
forbidding, and servile religion, and to lead men to substitute censoriousness, bitterness, and persecution, for a
tender and impartial charity.  We think, too, that this
system, which begins with degrading human nature, may
by expected to end in pride; for pride grows out of a
consciousness of high distinctions, however obtained,
and no distinction is so great as that which is made between the elected and abandoned of God.
The false and dishonorable views of God, which
have now been stated, we feel ourselves bound to resist
unceasingly.  Other errors we can pass over with comparative indifference.  But we ask our opponents to
leave to us a GOD, worthy of our love and trust, in
whom our moral sentiments may delight, in whom our
weaknesses and sorrows may find refuge. We cling to
the Divine perfections.  We meet them  everywhere in
creation, we read them in the Scriptures, we see a
lovely image of them in Jesus Christ; and gratitude,
love, and veneration call on us to assert them.  Reproached, as we often are, by men, it is our consolation
and happiness, that one of our chief offences is the zeal
with which we vindicate the dishonored goodness and
rectitude of God.
4. Having thus spoken of the unity of God; of the
unity of Jesus, and his inferiority to God; and of the




88              UNITARIAN C-RISTIANITY.
perfections of the Divine character; I now proceed to
give our views of the mediation of Christ, and of the
purposes of his mission.  With regard to the great object which Jesus came to accomplish, there seenis to be
no possibility of mistake. We believe, that he was sent
by the Father to effect a moral, or spiritual deliverance
of mankind; that is, to rescue men from sin and its
consequences, and to bring them to a state of everlasting purity and happiness.  We believe, too, that he accomplishes this sublime purpose by a variety of methods; by his instructions respecting God's unity, parental
character, and moral government, which are admirably
fitted to reclaim the world from idolatry and impiety,
to the knowledge, love, and obedience of the Creator;
by his promises of pardon to the penitent, and of divine
assistance to those who labor for progress in moral excellence; by the light which he has thrown on the path
of duty; by his own spotless example, in which the
loveliness and sublimity of virtue shine forth to warm
and quicken, as well as guide us to perfection; by his
threatenings against incorrigible guilt; by his glorious discoveries of immortality; by his sufferings and death;
by that signal event, the resurrection, which powerfully
bore witness to his divine mission, and brought down to
men's senses a future life; by his continual intercession,
which obtains for us spiritual aid and blessings; and by
the power with which he is invested of raising the dead,
judging'the world, and conferring the everlasting rewards
promised to the faithful.
We have no desire to conceal the fact, that a difference of opinion exists among us, in regard to an interesting part of Christ's mediation; I mean, in regard
to the precise influence of his death on our forgiveness




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           89
Many suppose, that this event contributes to our pardon, as it was a principal -means of confirming his religion, and of giving it a power over the mind; in other
words, that it procures forgiveness by leading to that
repentance and virtue, which is the great and only condition on which forgiveness is bestowed.  Many of us
are dissatisfied with this explanation, and think that the
Scriptures ascribe the remission of sins to Christ's death,
with an emphasis so peculiar, that we ought to consider
this event as having a special influence in removing
punishment, though the Scriptures may not reveal the
way in which it contributes to this end.
Whilst, however, we differ in explaining the connexion between Christ's death and human forgiveness,
a connexion which we all gratefully acknowledge, we
agree in rejecting many sentiments which prevail in
regard to his mediation.  The idea, which is conveyed
to common minds by the popular system, that Christ's
death has an influence in making God placable, or mercifill, in awakening his kindness towards men, we reject
with strong disapprobation.  We are happy to find,
that this very dishonorable notion is disowned by intelligent Christians of that class from which we differ.
We recollect, however, that, not long ago, it was common to hear of Christ, as having died to appease God's
wrath, and to pay the debt of sinners to his inflexible
justice; and we have a strong persuasion, that the language of popular religious books, and the common mode
of stating the doctrine of Christ's mediation, still conmmunicate very degrading views of God's character.
They give to multitudes the impression, that the death
of Jesus produces a change in the mind of God towards man, and that in this its efficacy chiefly consists.
wards mail,                           W~t




UNITARIAN CIIRISTIANITY.
No error seems to us more pernicious. We can endure
no shade over the pure goodness of God.  We earnestly maintain, that Jesus, instead of calling forth, in
any way or degree, the mercy of the Father, was sent
by that mercy, to be our Saviour; that he is nothing
to the human race, but what he is by God's appointment; that he communicates nothing but what God empowers himn to bestow; that our Father in heaven is
originally, essentially, and eternally placable, and disposed to forgive; and that his unborrowed, underived,
and unchangeable love is the only fountain of what
flows to us through his Son.  We conceive, that Jesus
is dishonored, not glorified, by ascribing to him an influence, which clouds the splendor of Divine benevolence.
We farther agree in rejecting, as unscriptural and
absurd, the explanation given by the popular system,
of the manner in which Christ's death procures forgiveness for men.  This system  used to teach as its
fundamental principle, that man, having sinned against
an. infinite Being, has contracted infinite guilt, and is
consequently exposed to an infinite penalty. We believe,
however, that this reasoning, if reasoning it may be
called, which overlooks the obvious maxim, that the
guilt of a being must be proportioned to his nature and
powers, has fallen into disuse.  Still the system  teaches, that sin, of whatever degree, exposes to endless
punishment, and that the whole human race, being infallibly involved by their nature in sin, owe this awful
penalty to the justice of their Creator.  It teaches, that
this penalty cannot be remitted, in consistency with the
honor of the divine law, unless a substitute be found
to endure it or to suffer an equivalent.  It also teaches,




UNIJTARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           9 l
that, from  the nature of the case, no substitute is adequate to this work, save the infinite God himself; and
accordingly, God, in his second person, took on him
human nature, that he might pay to his own justice the
debt of punishment incurred by men,-and might thus
reconcile forgiveness with the claims and threatenings
of his law.  Such is the prevalent system.  Now, to
us, this doctrine seems to carry on its front strong
marks of absurdity; and we maintain that Christianity
ought not to be encumbered with it, unless it be laid
down in the New Testament fully and expressly.  We
ask our adversaries, then, to point to some plain passages
where it is taught.  We ask for one text, in which we
are told, that God took human nature that he might
make an infinite satisfaction to his own justice; for one
text, which tells us, that human guilt requires an infinite
substitute; that Christ's sufferings owe their efficacy
to their being borne by an infinite being; or that his
divine nature gives infinite value to the sufferings of the
human.  Not one word of this description can we find
in the Scriptures; not a text,' which even hints at these
strange doctrines.  They are altogether, we believe,
the fictions of theologians.  Christianity is in no degree
responsible for them.  We are astonished at their prevalence. What can be plainer, than that God cannot,
in any sense, be a sufferer, or bear a penalty in the
room  of his creatures?  How dishonorable to him  is
the supposition, that his justice is now so severe, as to
exact infinite punishment for the sins of frail and feeble
men, and now so easy and yielding, as to accept the
limlited pains of Christ's human soul, as a full equivalent for the endless woes due from  the world?  How
plain is it also, according to this doctrine, that God,




192:           ~UNITARIAN CORISTIANIT'Y.
instead of being plenteous in forgiveness, never fort
gives; for it seems absurd to speak of men as forgiven,
when their whole punishment, or an equivalent to it, is
borne by a substitute? A scheme more fitted to obscure the brightness of Christianity and the mercy of
God, or less suited to give comfort to a guilty and
troubled mind,. could not, we think, be easily fi-amed.
We believe, too, that this system  is unfavorable to
the character.  It naturally leads nlen to think, that
Christ came to change God's mind rather than their
own; that the highest object of his mission was to
avert punishment, rather than to communicate holiness;
and that a large part of religion consists in disparaging
good works and human virtue, for the purpose of mnagnifying the value of Christ's vicarious sufferings.  In
this way, a sense of the infinite importance and indispensable necessity of personal improvement is weakened, and high-sounding praises of Christ's cross seem
often to be substituted for obedience to his precepts.
For ourselves, we have not so learned Jesus.  Whilst
we gratefully acknowledge, that he came to rescue us
from punishment, we believe, that he was sent on a still
nobler errand, namely, to deliver us from sin itself, and
to form us to a sublime and heavenly virtue.  We regard him as a Saviour, chiefly as he is the light, physician, and guide of the dark, diseased, and wandering mind.  No influence in the universe seems to us so
glorious, as that over the character; and no redemption
so worthy of thankfulness, as the restoration of the
soul to purity.  Without this, pardon, were it possible,
would be of little value.  Why pluck the sinner from
hell, if a hell be left to burn in his own breast?  Why
raise hitn to heaven, if lie remain a stranger to its sanrc



UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.              93
ity and love?  With these impressions, we are accustomed to value the Gospel chiefly as it abounds in
effectual aids, motives, excitements to a generous and
divine virtue.  In this virtue, as in a common centre,
we see all its doctrines, precepts, promises meet; *and
we believe, that faith in this religion is of no worth,
and contributes nothing to salvation, any farther than as
it tuses these doctrines, precepts, promises, and the whole
life, character, sufferings, and triumphs of Jesus, as the
means of purifying the mind, of changing it into the
likeness of his celestial excellence.
5. Having thus stated our views of the highest object of Christ's mission, that it is the recovery of men
to virtue, or holiness, I shall now, in the last place,
give our views of the nature of Christian virtue, or
true holiness.  We believe that all virtue has its foundation in -the moral nature of man, that is, in conscience,
or his sense of duty, and in the power of forming his
temper and life according to conscience.  We believe
that these moral faculties are the grounds of responsibility, and the highest distinctions of human nature;
and that no act is praiseworthiyT, any farther than it
springs from their exertion.  We believe, that no dispositions infused into us without our own moral activity,
are of the nature of virtue, and therefore, we reject the
doctrine of irresistible divine influence on the human
mind, moulding it into goodness, as marble is hewn
into a statue.  Such goodness, if this word may be
used, would not be the object' of moral approbation,
any more than the instinctive affections of inferior animals, or the constitutional arniableness of human beings.
By these remarks, we do not mean to deny the importance of God's aid or Spirit; but by his Spirlt:, xwe




94              UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
mean  a moral, illuminating, and persuasive influenc-e
not physical, not compulsory, not involving a necessity
of virtue.  We object, strongly, to the ide.a of many
Christians respecting man's impotence and God's irresistible agency on the heart, believing that they subvert
our responsibility and the laws of our moral nature, that
they make men machines, that they cast on God the
blame of all evil deeds, that they discourage good minds,
and inflate the fanatical with wild conceits of immediate
and sensible inspiration.
Among the virtues, we give the first place to the love
of God.  We believe, that this principle is the true end
and happiness of our being, that we were made for
union with our Creator, that his infinite perfection is
the only sufficient object and true resting-place for the
insatiable desires and unlimited capacities of the human
mind, and that, without him, our noblest sentiments, admiration, veneration, hope, and love, would wither and
decay.  We believe, too, that the love of God is not
only essential to happiness, but to the strength and perfection of all the virtues; that conscience, without the
sanction of God's authority and retributive justice, would
be a weak director; that benevolence, unless nourished
by communion with his goodness, and encouraged by
his smile, could not thrive amidst the selfishness and
thanklessness of the world; and that self-government,
without a sense of the divine inspection, would hardly
extend beyond an outward and partial purity. God<
as he is essentially goodness, holiness, justice, and: vii~tue, so he is the life, motive, and sustainer of virtue in
the human soult.
But, whilst we earnestly inculcate the love of God,
we believe that great care is nrecessary to d-istingJis1h.:.it




'UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.            95
from counterfeits.  We think that much which is called
piety is worthless.  Many have fallen into the error,
that there can be no excess in feelings which have God
for their object; and, distrusting as coldness that selfpossession, without which virtue and devotion lose all
their dignity, they have abandoned themselves to extravagances, which have brought contempt on piety.  Most
certainly, if the love of God be that which often bears
its name, the less we have of it the better.  If religion
be the shipwreck of understanding, we cannot keep too
far from it.  On this subject, we always speak plainly.
We cannot sacrifice our reason to the reputation of
zeal.  We owe it to truth and religion to maintain,
that fanaticism, partial insanity, sudden impressions,
and ungovernable transports, are any thing rather than
piety.
We conceive, that the true love of God is a moral
sentiment, founded on a clear perception, and consisting
in a high esteem and veneration, of his moral perfections.  Thus, it perfectly coincides, and is in fact the
same thing, with the love of virtue, rectitude, and goodness.  You will easily judge, then, what we esteem  the
surest and only decisive signs of piety. We lay no
stress on strong excitements. We esteem him, and him
only a pious man, who practically conforms to God's
moral perfections and government; who shows his delight in God's benevolence, by loving and serving hisneighbour; his delight in God's justices by being resolutely upright; his sense of God's purity, by regulating
his thoughts, imagination, and desires; and whose conversation, business, and domestic life are swayed by a
regardl to God's presence and authority.  In all things
ais.e men may deceive themselves.  Disordered ne,-rves




ii             UN'tNrARIAN CHRISTIANITY'.
may give them  strange sights, and sounds, and impress
sions.  Texts of Scripture may come to them as from
Heaven.  Their whole souls may be moved, and their
confidence in God's favor be undoubting.  But in all
this there is no religion.  The question is, Do they love
God's commands, in which his character is fully expressed, and give up to these their habits and passions?
Without this, ecstasy is a mockery.  One surrender
of desire to God's will, is worth a thousand transports.
We do not judge of the bent of men's minds by their
raptures, any more than we judge of the natural direction of a tree during a storm.  We rather suspect loud
profession, for we have observed, that deep feeling is
generally noiseless, and least seeks display.
We would not, by these remarks, be understood as
wishing to exclude from  religion warmth, and even
transport.  We honor, and highly value, true religious
sensibility.  We believe, that Christianity is intended
to act powerfully on our whole nature, on the heart as
well-as the understanding and the conscience.  We
conceive of heaven as a state where the love of God
will be exalted into an unbounded fervor and joy; and
we desire,, in our pilgrimage here, to drink into the
spirit of that better world.  But we think, that religious
warmth is only to be valued, when it springs naturally
from an improved character, when it comes unforced,
when it is the recompense of obedience, when it is the
warmth of a mind which understands God by being like
him, and when, instead of disordering, it exalts the
understanding, invigorates conscience, gives a pleasure
to common duties, and is seen to exist in connexion
with cheerfulness, judiciousness, and a reasonable frame
of mind. VWhen we observe a fervor, called religiousg




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.           97
in men whose general character expresses little refine.
ment and elevation, and whose piety seems at war with
reason, we pay it little respect.  We honor religion
too much to give its sacred name to a feverish, forced,
fluctuating zeal, which has little power over the life.
Another important branch of virtue, we believe to be
love to Christ.  The greatness of the work of Jesus,
the spirit with which he executed it, and the sufferings
which he bore for our salvation, we feel to be strong
claims on our gratitude and veneration.  We see in nature no beauty to be compared with the loveliness of his
character, nor do we find on earth a benefactor to whom
we owe an equal debt. We read his history with delight, and learn from it the perfection of our nature.
We are particularly touched by his death, which was
endured for our redemption, and by that strength of
charity which triumphed over his pains.- His resurrect
tion is the foundation of our hope of immortality.  His
intercession gives us boldness to draw nigh to the throne
of grace, and we look up to heaven with new desire,
when we think, that, if we follow him here, we shall
there see his benignant countenance, and  enjoy his
fiiendship for ever.
I need not express to you our views on the subject
of the benevolent virtues.  We attach such importance
to these, that we are sometimes reproached with exalting them  above piety.  We regard the spirit of love,
charity, meekness, forgiveness, liberality, and benefit
cence, as the badge and distinction of Christians, as the
brightest image we can bear of God, as the best proof
of piety.  On this subject, I need not, aid cannot enha'g e; but there is one branch of benevolence which I
ought not to pass over in silence, because we think that
VOL. III.             9




98             UNITARIAN CHIRISTIANITY.
we conceive of it more highly and justly than many of
our brethren.  I refer to the duty of candor, charitable
judgment, especially towards those who differ in religious
opinion.  We think, that in nothing have Christians so
widely departed from their religion, as in this particular.
We read with astonishment and horror, the history of
the church; and sometimes when we look back on the
fires of persecution, and on the zeal of Christians, in.building up walls of separation, and in giving up one
another to perdition, we feel as if we were reading the
records of an infernal, rather than a heavenly kingdom.
An enemy to every religion, if asked to describe a
Christian, would, with some show of reason, depict him
as an idolater of his own distinguishing opinions, covered
with badges of party, shutting his eyes on the virtues,
and his ears on the arguments, of his opponents, arrogating all excellence to his own sect and all saving power
to his own creed, sheltering under the name of pious
zeal the love of domination, the conceit of infallibility,
and the spirit of intolerance, and trampling on men's
rights under the pretence of saving their souls.
We can hardly conceive of a plainer obligation on
beings of our frail and fallible nature, who are instructed
in the duty of candid judgment, than to abstain from
condemning men of apparent conscientiousness and sincerity, who are chargeable with no crime but that of
differing from us in the interpretation of the Scriptures,
and differing, too, on topics of great and acknowledged
obscurity. We are astonished at the hardihood of those,
who, with Christ's warnings sounding in their ears, take
on them the responsibility of making creeds for his
church, and cast out professors of virtuous lives for imagined errors, for the guilt of thinking for themselves




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.            99
We know that zeal for truth is the cover for this usurpation of Christ's prerogative; but we think that zeal
for truth, as it is called, is very suspicious, except in
men, whose capacities and advantages, whose patient
deliberation, and whose improvements in humility, mildness, and candor, give them a right to hope that their
views are n.ore just than those of their neighbours.
Aluch of what passes for a zeal for truth, we look upon
with little respect, for it often appears to thrive most
luxuriantly where other virtues shoot up thinly and
feebly; and we have no gratitude for those reformers,
who would force  upon us a doctrine which has not
sweetened their own tempers, or made them better men
than their neighhbours.
We are accustomed to think much of the difficulties attending religious inquiries; difficulties springing
from  the slow developement of our minds, from  the
power of early impressions, fromthe state of society,
from human authority, from the general neglect of the
reasoning powers, from the want of just principles of
criticism and of important helps in interpreting Scripture, and from various other causes.  We find, that on.no subject have men, and even good men, ingrafted so
many strange conceits, wild theories, and fictions of fancy, as on religion; and remembering, as we do, that
we ourselves are sharers of the common frailty, we dare
not assume infallibility in the trdatment of our fellowChristians, or encourage in common Christians, who
have little time for investigation, the habit of denouncing and contemning other denominations, perhaps more
enlightened and virtuous than their own.  Charity, for
bearance, a delight in the virtues of dififerent sects, a
backwardness to censure and condemn, these are vir



100            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
tues, which, however poorly practised by us, we admire
and recommend; and we would rather join ourselves to
the church in which they abound, than to any other
communion, however elated with the belief of its own
orthodoxy, however strict in guarding its creed, however
burning with zeal against imagined error.
I have thus given the distinguishing views of those
Christians in whose names I have spoken.  We have
embraced this system, not hastily or lightly, but after
much deliberation; and we hold it fast, not merely because we believe it to be true, but because we regard it
as purifying truth, as a doctrine according to godliness, as
able to I' work mightily " and to " bring forth fruit " in
them who believe.  That we wish to spread it, we have
no desire to conceal; but we think, that we wish its
diffusion, because we regard it as more friendly to practical piety and pure morals than the opposite doctrines,
because it gives clearer and nobler views of duty, and
stronger motives to its performance, because it recommends religion at once to the understanding and the
heart, because it asserts the lovely and venerable attributes of God, because it tends to restore the benevolent
spirit of Jesus to his divided and afflicted church, and
because it cuts off every hope of God's favor, except
that which springs from  practical conformity to the life
and precepts of Christ.  We see nothing in our views
to give offence, save their purity, and it is their purity,
which makes us seek and hope their extension through
the world.
My friend and brother;-You are this day to take
upon you important duties; to be clothed with an office,
which B.ih  Son. of God did not disdain;  to devote your,



UNITARIAN CIIUISTIANITY          101
self to that religion, which the most hallowed lips have
preached, and the most precious blood sealed.  We
trust that you will bring to this work a willing mind, a
firm purpose, a martyr's spirit, a readiness to toil and
suffer for the truth, a devotion of your best powers to
the interests of piety and virtue.  I have spoken of the
doctrines which you will probably preach; but I do nlot
mean, that you are to give yourself to controversy.
You will remember, that good practice is the end of
preaching, and will labor to make your people holy livers, rather than skilful disputants.  Be careful, lest the
desire of defending what you deem truth, and of repelling reproach and misrepresentation, turn you aside from
your great business, which is to fix in men's minds a
living conviction of the obligation, sublimity, and happiness of Christian virtue.  The best way to vindicate
your sentiments, is to show, in your preaching and life,
their intimate connexion with Christian morals, with a
high and delicate sense of duty, with candor towards
your opposers, with inflexible integrity, and with an habitual reverence for God.  If any light can pierce and
scatter the clouds of prejudice, it is that of a pure example.  My brother, may your life preach more loudly
than your lips.  Be to this people a pattern of all good
works, and may your instructions derive authority from
a well-grounded belief in your hearers, that you speak
fiom  the heart, that you preach from experience, that
the truth which you dispense -has wrought powerfully in
your own heart, that God, and Jesus, and heaven, are
not merely words on your lips, but most affecting realities to your mind, and springs of hope and consolation,
and strength, in all your trials.  Thus laboring, may
you reap abundantly, and have a testimony of your faith9*




102            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
fulness, not only in your own conscience, but in the
esteem, love, virtues, and improvements of your people.
To all who hear me, I would say, with the Apostle,
Prove all things, hold. fast that which is good.  Do not,
brethren, shrink from the duty of searching God's Word
for yourselves, through fear of human censure and denunciation.  Do not think, that you may innocently folloxv the opinions which prevail around you, without investigation, on the ground, that Christianity; is now so
purified fiom  errors, as to need no laborious research.
There is much reason to believe, that Christianity is at
this moment dishonored by gross and cherished corrup-:tions. If you remember the darkness which hung over
the Gospel for ages; if you consider the impure union,
which still subsists in almost every Christian country,
between the church and state, and which enlists men's
selfishness and  ambition on the side of established
error; if you recollect in what degree the spirit of intolerance has checked free inquiry, not only: before, but
since the Reformation; you will see that Christianity
cannot have freed itself from all the human inventions,
which disfigured it under the Papal tyranny. No.' Much
stubble is yet to be burned; much rubbish to be removed; many gaudy decorations, which a false taste has
hung around Christianity, must be swept away; and the
earth-born fogs, which have long shrouded -it, must be
scattered, before this divine fabric will rise before us in
its native and awful majesty, in its harmonious proportions, in its mild and celestial splendors.  This glorious
reformation in the church, we hope, under God's blessinlg, from the progress of the- human intellect, from  the
moral progress of society, from the consequent decline
of ~prejudice and bigotry, and, though last not least, from




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY.          103
ihe subversion of human authority in matters of religion,
from the fall of those hierarchies, and other human institutions, by which the minds of individuals are oppressed
tiunder the weight of numbers, and a Papal dominion is
perpetuated  in the Protestafit church.  Our earnest
prayer to God is, that he will overturn, and overturn,
and overturn the strong-holds of spiritual usurpation, until
HE shall come, whose right it is to rule the minds of
men; that the conspiracy of ages against the liberty of
Christians may be brought to an end; that the servile
assent, so long yielded to human creeds, may give place
to honest and devout inquiry into the Scriptures; and
that Christianity, thus purified from error, may put forth
its almighty energy, and prove itself, by its ennobling influence on the mind, to be indeed " the power of God
unto salvation."








THE
EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION.
DISCOURSE
BEFORE THE
UNIVERSITY IN CAMBRIDGE, AT THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE,
14th MARCH, 1821.
JOHN iii. 2: " The same came to Jesus by night, and said unto
him, Rabbi, we know that thou art a' teacher come from God;
for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, except God
be with him."
THE evidences of revealed religion are the subject of
this lecture, a subject of great extent, as well as of
vast importance. In discussing it, an immense variety
of learning has been employed, and all the powers of
the intellect been called forth. History, metaphysics,
ancient learning, criticism, ethical science, and the science of human nature, have been summoned to the
controversy, and have brought important contributions
to the Christian cause.  To condense into one discourse
what scholars and great men have written on this point,
is impossible, even if it were desirable; and I have
stated the extent of speculation into which our subject
ihas led, not because I propose to give an abstract of
others' labors, but because I wish you to understand,




106               THE EVIDENCES OF
that the topic is one not easily despatched, and because
I would invite ycu to follow me in a discussion, which
will require concentrated and continued attention.  A
subject more worthy of attention, than the claims of
that religion which was impressed on our childhood,
and which is acknowledged to be the only firm foundation of the hope of immortality, cannot be presented;
and our minds must want the ordinary seriousness of
human nature, if it cannot arrest us.
That Christianity has been opposed, is a fact, implied
in the establishment of this lecture.  That it has had
adversaries of no mean intellect, you know.  I propose
in this discourse to make some remarks on what seems
to me the great objection to Christianity, on the general
principle on which its evidences rest, and on some of
its particular evidences.
The great objection to Christianity, the only one
which has much influence at the present day, meets us
at the very threshold.  We cannot, if we would, evade
it, for it is founded on a primary and essential attribute
of this religion.  The objection is oftener felt than expressed, and amounts to this, that miracles are incredible, and that the supernatural character of an alleged
fact is proof enough of its falsehood.  So strong is this
propensity to doubt of departures from the order of
nature, that there are sincere Christians, who incline to
rest their religion wholly on its internal evidence, and
to overlook the outward extraordinary interposition of
God, by which it was at first established.  But the
difficulty cannot in this vway be evaded; for Christianity
is not only confirmed by miracles, but is in itself, in its
very essence, a miraculous religion.  It is not a system




REVEALED RELIGION.              10?
which the human mind might have gathered, in the ordinary exercise of its powers, from the ordinary course
of nature.  Its doctrines, especially those which relate
to its founder, claim for it the distinction of being a
supernatural provision for the recovery of the human
race.  So that the objection which I have stated still
presses upon us, and, if it be well grounded, it is fatal
to Christianity.
It is proper, then, to begin the discussion with inquiring, whence the disposition to, discredit miracles springs,
aid how  far it is rational.  A  preliminary remark of
some importance is, that this disposition is not a necessary part or principle of our mental constitution, like
the disposition to trace effects to adequate causes.  We
are indeed so framed, as to expect a continuance of
that order of nature which we have uniformly experienced; but not so framed as to revolt at alleged violations of that order, and to account them impossible
or absurd.  On the contrary, men at large discover a
strong and incurable propensity to believe in miracles.
Almost all histories, until within the two last centuries,
reported seriously supernatural facts.   Skepticism  as
to miracles is comparatively a new thing, if we except
thle_ Epicurean or Atheistical sect among the ancients;
and so far from being founded in human nature, it is
resisted by an almost infinite preponderance of belief
on the other side.
Whence, then, has this skepticism sprung? It may
be explained by two principal causes.  1. It is now an
acknowledged fact, among enlightened men, that in past
times and in our own, a strong disposition has existed
and still exists to admit miracles without examination.
Human credulity is found to have devoured nothing




108               THE EVIDENCEs or
more eagerly than reports of prodigies.  Now  it is ar.
gued, that we discover here a principle of human nature,
namely, the love of the supernatural and marvellous,
which accounts sufficiently for the belief of miracles,
wherever we find it; and that it is, consequently, unnecessary and unphilosophical to -seek for other causes,
and especially to admit that most improbable one, the
actual existence of miracles.  This sweeping conclusion is a specimen of that rash habit of generalizing,
which rather distinguishes our times, and shows that
philosophical reasoning has made fewer advances than
we are apt to boast.  It is true, that there is a principle
of credulity as to prodigies in a considerable part of
society, a disposition to believe without due scrutiny.
But this principle, like every other in our nature, has its
limits; acts according to fixed laws; is not omnipotent;
cannot make the eyes see, and the ears hear, and the
understanding credit delusions, under all imaginable circumstances; but requires the concurrence of various
circumstances and of other principles of our nature in
order to its operation.   For example, the belief of
spectral appearances has been very common; but under
what circumstances and in what state of mind has it
occurred? Do men see ghosts in broad day, and amidst
cheerful society? Or in solitary places; in grave-yards;
in twilights or mists, where outward objects are so un-'defined, as easily to take a form from imagination; and
in other circumstances favorable to terror, and associated
with the delusion in question?  The principle of credulity is as regular in its operation, as any other principle
of the mind; and is so dependent on circumstances and
so restrained and checked by other parts of human nature, that sometimes the most obstinate incredulity is




ZEVEALMED tRELIGION.           109
found in that very class of people, whose easy belief on
other occasions moves our contempt. It is well known,
for example, that the efficacy of the vaccine inoculation has been encountered with much more unyielding
skepticism among the vulgar, than among the improved;
and in general, it may -be affirmed, that the credulity
of the ignorant operates under the control of their
strongest passions -and impressions, and that no class of
society yield a slower assent to positions, which manifestly subvert their old modes of thinking and most setfled prejudices.  It is, then, very unphilosophical to assume this principle as an -explanation of all miracles
whatever.  I grant that the fact, that accounts of super-,natural agency so generally prove false, is a reason for
looking upon them  with peculiar distrust.  Miracles
ought on this account to be sifted more than common
facts.  But if we find, that a belief in a series of supernatural works, has occurred under circumstances very
different firoln those under which false prodigies have
bbeen received, under circumstances most unfavorable
to the operation of credulity; then this belief cannot be
resolved into the common causes., which have blinded
men in regard to supernatural agency.  We must look
for other causes, and if none can be found but the
actual existence of the miracles, then true philosophy
binds us to believe them.  I close this head with obhserving, that the propensity of men to believe in what
is strange and miraculous, though a presumption against
particular miracles, is not a presumption against miracles
universally, but rather the reverse; for great principles
of human nature have generally a foundation in truth,
and one explanation of this propensity so common to
mankind is obviously this, that in the earlier ages of the
VOL. IMI.             10




1 to              THIE EVIDENCES OF
human race, miraculous interpositions, suited to man's
infant state, were not uncommon, and, being the most
striking facts of human history, they spread through all
future times a belief and expectation of miracles.
I proceed now to the second cause of the skepticism
in regard to supernatural agency, which has grown up,
especially among the more improved, in later times.
These later times are distinguished, as you well know,
by successful researches into nature; and the discoveries of science have continually added strength to that
great principle, that the phenomena of the universe are
regulated by general and permanent laws, or that the
Author of the universe exerts his power according to an
established order.  Nature, the more it is explored, is
found to be uniform.  We observe an unbroken succession of causes and effects.  Many phenomena, once denominated irregular, and ascribed to supernatural agency,
are found to be connected with preceding circumstances,
as regularly as the most common events. The comet,
we learn, observes the same attraction as the sun and
planets.  When a new phenomenon now occurs, no one
thinks it miraculous, but believes, that, when better understood, it may be reduced to laws already known, or
is an example of a law nlot yet investigated.
Now this increasing acquaintance with the uniformity
of nature begets a distrust cf alleged violations of it,
and a rational distrust too; for, while many causes of
mistake in regard to alleged miracles may be assigned,
there is but one adequate cause of real miracles, that is,
the power of God; arid the regularity of nature forms a
strong presumption against tlhe miraculous exertion of
this power, except in extraordinary circumstances, and
for extraordinary purposes, to which the established laws




REVEALED RELIGON.                 111
of the creation are not competent.  But the observation
of the uniformity of nature produces, in multitudes, not
merely this rational distrust of alleged violations of it,
but a secret feeling, as if such violations were impossible. That attention to the powers of nature, which is
implied in scientific research, tends to weaken the practical conviction of a higher power; and the laws of the
creation, instead of being regarded as the modes of Divine operation, come insensibly  to be considered as
fetters.on his agency, as too sacred to be suspended
even by their Author.  This secret feeling, essentially
atheistical, and at war with all sound philosophy, is the
chief foundation of that skepticism, which prevails in
regard to miraculous agency, and deserves our particular
consideration.
To a man whose belief in God is strong and practical,
a miracle will appear as possible as any other effect, as
the most common event in life; and the argument against
miracles, drawn from the uniformity of nature, will weigh
with him, only as fatr as this uniformity is a pledge and
proof of the Creator's disposition to accomplish his purposes by a fixed order or mode of operation.  Now it is
freely granted, that the Creator's regard or attachment
to such an order may be inferred from  the steadiness
with which he observes it; and a strong presumpticn
lies against any violation of it on slight occasions, or for
purposes to which the established laws of nature are adequate.  But this is tile utmost which the order of nature
authorizes us to infer respecting its Author.  It forms
no presumption against miracles universally, in all imaginable cases; but may even furnish a presumption in
their favor.
We are never to fo'get, that God's adherence to the




112               ToM EVIDENCES OF
order of the universe is not necessary and mechanical.
but intelligent and voluntary.  He adheres to it, not for
its own sake, or because it has a sacredness which compels him to respect it, but because it is most suited to
accomplish his purposes.  It is a means, and not an
end; and, like al other means, must give way when
the end can best be promoted without it. It is the mark
of a weak mind, to make an idol of order and method;
to cling to established forms of business, when they clog
instead of advancing it.  If, then, the great purposes of
the universe can best he accomplished by departing from
its established laws, these laws will undoubtedly be suspended; and, though broken in the letter, they will be
observed in their spirit, for the ends for which they were
first instituted will be advanced by their violation.  Now
the question arises, For what purposes were nature and
its order appointed? and there is no presumption in
saying, that the highest of these is the improvement of
intelligent beings.  Mind (by which we mean both moral
and intellectual powers) is God's first end.  The great
purpose for which an order of nature is fixed, is plainly
the formation of Mind,  In a creation without order:
where events would follow without any regular succession, it is obvious, that Mind must be kept in perpetual
infancy; -for, in such a universe, there could be. no reasoning from effects to causes, no induction to establish
general truths., no adaptation of means to ends; that is,
no science relating to God, or matter, or mind; no action;. no virtue.  The great purpose of God, then, I
repeat it, in establishing the order of nature, is to form:
and advance the mind; and if the case should occur, in
which the: interests of' the mind could best be advanced
by departing from this order, or by miraculous agency,




RIVEALED RELIGION.             113
then the great purpose of the creation, the great end of
its laws and regularity, would demand such departure;
and miracles, instead of warring against, would concur
with nature.
Now, we Christians maintain, that such a case has
existed.  We affirm, that, when Jesus Christ came into
the world, nature had failed to communicate instructions
to men, in which, as intelligent beings, they had the
deepest concern, and on which the full developement of
their highest faculties essentially depended; and we
affirm, that there was no prospect of relief from nature;
so that an exigence had occurred, in which additional
communications, supernatural lights, might rationally be
expected from the Father of spirits.  Let me state two
particulars, out of many, in which men needed intellectual aids not given by nature.  I refer to the doctrine
of one God and Father, on which all piety rests; and
to the doctrine of Immortality, which is the great spring
of virtuous effort.  Had I time to enlarge on the history
-of that period, I might show you under what heaps of
rubbish and superstition these doctrines were buried.
But I should repeat only what you know familiarly.
The works of ancient genius, which form your studies,
carry on their front the brand of polytheism, and of debasing error on subjects of the first and deepest concern.
It is more important to observe, that the very uniformity
of nature had some tendency to obscure the doctrines
which I have named, or at least to impair their practical
power, so that a departure from this uniformity was
needed to fasten them on men's minds.
That a fixed order of nature, though a proof of the
One God to reflecting and enlarged understandings, has
yet a tendency to hide him from men in general, will
1O.




t114              THE EVIDENCES- Or
appear, if we consider, first, that, as the human mind is
constituted, what is regular and of constant occurrence,
excites it feebly; and benefits flowing to it through
fixed, unchanging laws, seem  to come by a kind of necessity, and are apt to be traced up to natural causes
alone.  Accordingly, religious convictions and feelings7
even in the present advanced condition of society, are
excited, not so much by the ordinary course of God's
providence, as by sudden, unexpected events, which
rouse and startle the mind, and speak of a power higher
than nature. - There is another way, in which a fixed
order of nature seems unfavorable to just impressionrespecting its Author. It discovers to us in the Creator,
a regard to general good rather than an affection to individuals.  The laws of nature, operating, as they do,
with an inflexible steadiness, never varying to meet the
cases and wants of individuals, and inflicting much private suffering in their stern administration for the general
weal, give the idea of a distant, reserved sovereign, nmauch
more than of a tender parent; and yet this last view of
God is the only effectual security from superstition and
idolatry.  Nature, then, we fear, would not have brought
2lack the world to its Creator. - And as to the doctrine
of Inmrnortality, the order of the natural world had little
tendency to teach this, at least with clearness and energy 
The natural world contains no provisions or arrangements for reviving the dead.  The sun and the rain,
svwhich cover the tomb with verdure, send no vital influences to the mouldering body.  The researches of science detect no secret processes for restoring the lost
powers of life.  If man is to live again, he is not to live
through any known laws of nature, but by a power higher
than nature; and how, then, can we be -assured of this




REVEALED RELIGION.              1 5
truth, but by a manifestation of this power, that is, by
miraculous agency, confirming a future life?'
I have labored in these remarks to show, that the uniformity of nature is no presumption against miraculous
agency, when employed in confirmation of such a religion as Christianity.  Nature, on the contrary, furnishes a presumption in its favor.  Nature clearly shows to
us a power above itself, so that it proves miracles to
be possible.  Nature reveals purposes and attributes in
its Author, with which Christianity remarkably agrees.
Nature too has deficiencies, which show that it was not
intended by its Author to be his whole method of instructing mankind; and in this way it gives great confirmation to Christianity, which meets its wants, supplies
its chasms, explains its mysteries, and lightens its heartoppressing cares and sorrows.
Before quitting the general consideration of miracles,
I ought to take some notice of Hume's celebrated argument on this subject; not that it merits the attention
which it has received, but because it is specious, and
has derived weight from  the name of its author.  The
argument is briefly this, — -I that belief is founded upon
and regulated by experience. Now we often experience
testimony to be false, but never witness a departure from
the order of nature.  That men may deceive us when
they testify to miracles, is therefore more accordant with
experience, than that nature should be irregular; and
hence there is a balance of proof against miracles, a
presumption so strong as to outweigh the strongest testirmony.'" The usual replies to this argument I have not
time to repeat. Dr. Campbell's work, which is accessible to all, will show you that it rests on anl equivocal
use of terms, and will fuilrnish yon with many fine re.




116               THE EVIDENCES 0F
marks on testimony and on the conditions or qualities
which give it validity. I will only add a few remarks
which seem to me worthy of attention.
1. This argument affirms, that the credibility of facts
or statements is to be decided by their accordance with
the established order of nature, and by this standard
only.  Now, if nature comprehended all existences and
all powers, this position might be admitted.  But if
there is a Being higher than nature, the origin of all its
powers and motions, and whose character falls under
our notice and experience as truly as the creation, then
there is ian additional standard to which facts and statements are to be referred; and works which violate nature's order, will still be credible, if they agree with the
known properties and attributes of its author; because
for such works we can assign an adequate cause and
sufficient reasons, and these are the qualities and conditions on which credibility depends.
2. This argument of Hume proves too much, and
therefore proves nothing.  It proves too much; for if I
am to reject the strongest testimony to miracles, because
testimony has often deceived me, whilst nature's order
has never been found to fail, then I ought to reject a
miracle, even if I should see it with my own eyes, and
if all my senses should attest it; for all my senses have
sometimes given false reports, whilst nature has never
gone astray; and, therefore, be the circumstances ever
so decisive or inconsistent with deception, still I must
not believe what I see, and hear, and touch, what my
senses, exercised according to the most deliberate judgment, declare to be true.  All this the argument requires; and it proves too much; for disbelief, in the
case supposed, is out of our power, and is instinctively




REVEALED RELIGION.             11 7
pronounced absurd; and what is more, it would subvert
that very order of nature on which the argument rests;
for this order of nature is learned only by the exercise
of my senses and judgment, and if these fail me, in the
most unexceptionable circumstances, then their testlmony to nature is of little worth.
Once more; this argument is built on an ignorance
of the nature of testimony.  Testimony, we are told,
cannot prove a miracle.  Now the truth is, that testimony of itself and immediately, proves no facts whatever, not even the most common.  Testimony can do
nothing more than show us the state of another's mind
in regard to a given fact.  It can only show  us, that
the testifier has a belief, a conviction, that a certain phenomenon or event has occurred. Here testimony stops;
and the reality of the event is to be judged altogether
from the nature and degree of this conviction, and from
the circumstances under which it exists.  This conviction is an effect, which must have a cause, and needs
to be explained; and if no cause can be found but the
real occurrence of the event, then this occurrence is
admitted as true.  Such is the extent of testimony.
Now a man, who affirms a miraculous phenomenon or
event, may give us just as decisive proofs, by his character and conduct, of the strength and depth of his conviction, as if he were affirming a common occurrence.
Testimony, then, does just as much in the case of miracles, as of common events; that is, it discloses to us
the conviction of another's mind.  Now this conviction
in the case of miracles requires a cause, an explanation,
as much as in every other; and if the circumstances be
such, that it could not have sprung up and been estab
lished but by the reality of the alleged miracle, then that




1S1  8THE EVIDENCES OF
great and fundamental principle of human belief, namely, that every effect must have a cause, compels us to
admit the miracle.
It may be observed of Hume and of other philosophical opposers of our religion, that they are much more
inclined to argue against miracles in general, than against
the particular miracles on which Christianity rests. And
the reason is obvious.  Miracles, when considered in a
general, abstract manner, that is, when divested of all
circumstances, and supposed to occur as disconnected
facts, to stand alone in history, to have no explanations
or reasons in preceding events, and no influence on
those which follow, are indeed open to great objection,
as wanton and useless violations of nature's order; and
it is accordingly against miracles, considered in this
naked, general form, that the arguments of infidelity are
chiefly urged.  But it is great disingenuity to class under this head the miracles of Christianity.  They are
palpably different. They do not stand alone in history;
but are most intimately incorporated with it.  They
were demanded by the state of the world which preceded them, and they have left deep traces on all subsequent ages.  In fact, the history of the whole civilized world, since their alleged occurrence, has been
swayed and colored by them, and is wholly inexplicable
without them.  Now, such miracles are not to be met
and disposed of by general reasonings, which apply only
to insulated, unimportant, uninfluential prodigies.
I have thus considered the objections to miracles in
general; and I would close this head with observing,
that these objections will lose their weight, just in proportion as we strengthen our conviction of God's power
over nature and of his parental interest in his creatures.




REVEALED RELLGION.             1 19
The great repugnance to the belief of miraculous agency
is founded in a lurking atheism, which ascribes supremacy to nature, and which, whilst it professes to believe
in God, questions his tender concern for the improvement of men.  To a man, who cherishes a sense of
God, the great difficulty is, not to account for miracles,
but to account for their rare occurrence.  One of the
mysteries of the universe is this, that its Author retires so continually behind the veil of his works, that
the great and good Father does not manifest himself
more distinctly to his creatures.  There is something
like coldness and repulsiveness in instructing us only
by fixed, inflexible laws of nature.  The intercourse of
God with Adam and the patriarchs suits our best conceptions of the relation which he bears to the human
race, and ought not to surprise us more, than the expression of a human parent's tenderness and concern
towards his offspring.
After the remarks now made to remove the objection
to revelation in general, I proceed to consider the evidences of the Christian religion in particular; and these
are so numerous, that should I attempt to compress
them into the short space which now remains, I could
give but a syllabus, a dry and uninteresting index.  It
will be more useful to state to you, with some distinctness, the general principle into which all Christian
evidences may be resolved, and on which the whole
religion rests, and then to illustrate it in a few striking
particulars.
All the evidences of Christianity may be traced to
this great principle, -that every effect must have an
adequate cause.  We claim  for our religion a divine




120               THE EVIDENCES OF
original, because no adequate cause for it can be found
in the powers or passions of human nature, or in the
circumstances under which it appeared; because it can
only be accounted for by the interposition of that Being,
to whom its first preachers universally ascribed it, and
with whose nature it perfectly agrees.
Christianity, by which we mean not merely the doctrines of the religion, but every thing relating to it, its
rise, its progress, the character of its author, the conduct of its propagators, — Christianity, in this broad
sense, can only be accounted for in two ways. It either
sprung from the principles of human nature, under the
excitements, motives, impulses. of:the age in which it
was first preached; or it had its origin in a higher and
supernatural agency.  To which of these causes the
religion should be referred, is not a question beyond
our reach; for being partakers of hIuman nature, and
knowing more of it than of any other part of creation,
we can judge with sufficient accuracy of the operation
of its principles, and of the effects to which they are
competent.  It is indeed true, that human powers are
not exactly defined, nor can we state precisely the
bounds beyond which they cannot pass; but still,,the
disproportion between human nature and an effect ascribed to it,'may be -so vast and palpable, as to satisfy
us at:once, that the eflect is inexplicable by human
power. I know not precisely what advances may be
made by the intellect of an unassisted savage; but that a
savage in the woods could not compose the " Principia "
of Newton, is about as plain as that he could not create the world. I know not the point;at which bodily
strength must stop; but that a man cannot carry Atlas
or Andes on his shoulders, is a safe position.  The




REVEALED RELIGION.             i21
question, therefore, whether the principles of human
nature, under the circumstances in which it was placed
at Christ's birth, will explain his religion, is one to
which we are competent, and is the great question on
which the whole controversy turns.
Now we maintain, that a great variety of facts belonging to this religion, - such as the character of its
Founder; its peculiar principles; the style and character of its records; its progress; the conduct, circumstances, and sufferings of its first propagators; the reception of it from the first on the ground of miraculous
attestations; the prophecies which it fulfilled and which
it contains; its influence on society, and other circumstances connected with it; are utterly inexplicable by
human powers and principles, but accord with, and are
fully explained by, the power and perfections of God.
These various particulars I cannot attempt to unfold.
One or two may be illustrated to show you the mode of
applying the principles which I have laid down.  I will
take first the character of Jesus Christ.  How is this
to be explained by the principles of humar  nature? -
We are immediately struck with this peculiarity in the
Author of Christianity, that, whilst all other men are
formed in a measure by the spirit of the age, we can
discover in Jesus no impression of the period in which
he lived. We know with considerable accuracy the
state of society, the modes of thinking, the hopes and
expectations of the country in which Jesus was born
and grew up;:and he is as free from them, and as exalted above them, as if he had lived in another world,
or with every sense shut on the objects around him.
His character has in it nothing local or temporary.  It
can be explained by nothing around him.  His history
vOa,. Hift.           I




122               TH- EVIDENCES OFX
shows him. to us a solitary being, living for purposes
which none but himself comprehended, and enjoying
not so much as the sympathy of a single mind. His
Apostles, his chosen companions, brought to him the
spirit of the age; and nothing shows its strength more
strikingly, than the slowness with which it yielded in
these honest mien to the instructions of Jesus.
Jesus came to a nation expecting a Messiah; and he
claimed this character.  But instead of conforming to
the opinions which prevailed in regard to the Messiah,
he resisted them  wholly and without reserve.  To a
people anticipating a triumphant leader, under whom
vengeance as well as ambition was to be glutted by the
prostration of their oppressors, he came as a spiritual
leader, teaching humility and peace.  This undisguised
hostility to the dearest hopes and prejudices of his
nation; this disdain of the usual compliances, by which
ambition and imposture conciliate adherents; this deliberate exposure of himself to rejection and hatred,
cannot easily be explained by the common principles
of human nature, and excludes the possibility of selfish
aims in the Author of Christianity.
One striking peculiarity in Jesus is the extent, the
vastness, of his views. Whilst all around him looked
for a Messiah to liberate God's ancient people, whilst
to every other Jew, Judea was the exclusive object of
pride and hope, Jesus came, declaring himself to be
the deliverer and light of the world, and in his whole
teaching and life, you see a consciousness, which never
forsakes him, of a relation to the whole human race.
This idea of blessing mankind, of spreading a universal religion, was the most magnifcent which had ever
entered man's mind.  All previous religions had been




REVEALED RELIGION.            123
given to particular nations.  No conqueror, legislator,
philosopher, in the extravagance of ambition, had ever
dreamed of subjecting all nations to a common faith.
This conception of a universal religion, intended alike
for Jew and Gentile, for all nations and climes, is wholly inexplicable by the circumstances of Jesus.  He
was a Jew, and the first and deepest and most constant
impression on a Jew's mind, was that of the superiority conferred on his people and himself by the national
religion introduced by Moses.  The wall between the
Jew and the Gentile seemed to reach to heaven.  The
abolition of the peculiarity of Moses, the prostration
of the temple on Mount Zion, the erection of a new
religion, in which all men would meet as brethren, and
which would be the common and equal property of Jew
and Gentile, these were of all ideas the last to spring
up in Judea, the last for enthusiasm or imposture to
originate.
Compare next these views of Christ with his station
in life.  He was of humble birth and education, with
nothing in his lot, with no extensive means, no rank, or
wealth, or patronage, to infuse vast thoughts and extravagant plans.  The shop of a carpenter, the village
of Nazareth, were not spots for ripening a scheme more
aspiring and extensive than had ever been formed.  It
is a principle of human nature, that, except in case
of insanity, some proportion is observed between the
power of an individual, and his plans and hopes.  The
purpose, to which Jesus devoted himself, was as ill suited
to his condition as an attempt to change the seasons,
or to make the sun rise in the west.  That a young
man, in obscure life, belonging to an oppressed nation,
should seriously think of subverting the time-hallowed




124               THE EVIDENCES OF
and deep-rooted religions of the world, is a strange
fact; but with this purpose we see the mind of Jesus
thoroughly imbued; and, sublime as it is, he never
falls below it in his language or conduct, but speaks
and acts with a consciousness of superiority, with a
dignity and authority, becoming this unparalleled destnation.
In this connexion, I cannot but add another striking
circumstance in Jesus, and-that is, the calm confidence
with which he always looked forward to the accomplish-ment of his design.  He fully knew the strength of the
passions and powers which were arrayed against him,
and was perfectly aware that his life was to be shortened by violence; yet not a word escapes him implying
a doubt of the ultimate triumphs of his religion.  One
of the beauties of the Gospels, and one of the proofs
of their genuineness, is found in our Saviour's indirect
and obscure allusions to his approaching sufferings, and
to the glory which was to follow; allusions showing
us the workings of a mind, thoroughly conscious of
being appointed to accomplish infinite good through
great calamity.  This entire and patient relinquishment
of immediate success, this ever present persuasion, that
he was to perish before his religion would advance,
and this calm, unshaken anticipation of distant and unbounded triumphs, are remarkable traits, throwing a
tender and solemn grandeur over our Lord, and wholly
inexplicable by human principles, or by the circumstances in which he was placed.
The views hitherto taken of Christ relate to his
public character and office.  If we pass to what may be
called his private character, we shall receive the same
impression of inexplicable excellence.  The most strik



REVEALED RELIGION.              125
ing trait in Jesus was, undoubtedly, benevolence; and,
although this virtue had existed before, yet it had not
been manifested in the same form and extent.  Christ's
benevolence was distinguished first by its expansiveness.
At that age, an unconfined philanthropy, proposing and
toiling to do good without distinction of country or rank,
was unknown.  Love to man as man, love comprehending the hated Sarnaritan and the despised publican, was
a feature which separated Jesus from the best men of
his nation and of the world.  Another characteristic of
the benevolence of Jesus, was its gentleness and tenderness, forming a strong contrast with the hardness
and ferocity of the spirit and manners which then prevailed, and with that sternness and inflexibility, which
the purest philosophy of Greece and Roime inculcated
as the perfection of virtue.  But its most distinguishing
trait was its superiority to injury.  Revenge was one
of the recognised rights of the age in which he lived;
and though a few sages, who had seen its inconsistency
with man's dignity, had condemned it, yet none had inculcated the duty of regarding one's worst enemies with
that kindness which God manifests to sinful men, and
of returning curses with blessings and prayers.  This
form of benevolence, the most disinterested and divine
form, was, as you well know, manifested by Jesus Christ
in infinite strength, amidst injuries and indignities which
cannot be surpassed.  Now  this singular eminence of
goodness, this superiority to the degrading influences
of the ages, under which all other men suffered, needs
to be explained; and one thing it demonstrates, that
Jesus Christ was not an unprincipled deceiver, exposing
not only his own life but the lives of confidingb fri end
in an enterprise next to desperate.
I. *




[26               THE TVIIDENCES OV
I cannot enlarge on other; traits of the character of
Christ. I wvill only observe, that it had one distinction,
which more than any thing, forms a perfect character.
It was made up of contrasts; in other words, it was a
union of excellences which are not easily reconciled,
which seem at first sight incongruous, but which, when
blended and duly proportioned, constitute moral harmony, and attract, with equal power, love and veneration.  For example, we discover in Jesus Christ an
unparalleled dignity of character, a consciousness of
greatness, never discovered or approached by any other
individual in history; and yet this was blended with a
condescension, lowliness, and unostentatious simplicity,
which had never before been thought consistent with
greatness.  In like manner, he united an utter superiority to the world, to its pleasures and ordinary interests, with suavity of manners and freedom from austerity.
ie joined strong feeling and self-possession; an indignant sensibility to sin, and compassion to the sinner;
an intense devotion to his work, and calmness under
opposition and ill success; a universal philanthropy, and
a susceptibility of private attachments; the authority
which became the Saviour of the world, and the tenderness and gratitude of a son.  Such was the author
of our religion.  And is his character to be explained
by imposture or insane enthusiasm? Does it not bear
the unambiguous marks of a heavenly origin?
Perhaps it may be said, this character never existed.
Then the invention of it is to be explained, and the
reception which this fiction met with; and these perhaps
are as difficult of explanation on natural principles, as
its real existence.  Christ's history bears all the marks
of reality; a more frank, simple, unlabored, unosten



REVEALED RELIGION.              127
tatious narrative was never penned. Besides, his character, if invented, must have been an invention of singular difficulty, because no models existed on which to
frame it. He stands alone in the records of time.  The
conception of a being, proposing such new and exalted
ends, and governed by higher principles than the progress of society had developed, implies singular intellectual power.  That several individuals should join in
equally vivid conceptions of this character; and should
not merely describe in general terms the fictitious being
to whom  it was attributed, but should introduce him
into real life, should place him in a great variety of
circumstances, in connexion with various ranks of men,
with friends and foes, and should in all preserve his
identity, show the same great and singular mind always
acting in harmony with itself; this is a supposition hardly credible, and, when the circumstances of the writers
of the New Testament are considered, seems to be as
inexplicable on human principles, as what I before suggested, the composition of Newton's " Principia " by a
savage.   The character of Christ, though delineated
in an age of great moral darkness, has stood the scrutiny of ages; and, ih proportion as men's moral sentiments have been refined, its beauty-has been more seen
and felt.  To suppose it invented, is to suppose that
its authors, outstripping their age, had attained to a
singular.delicacy and elevation of moral perception and
feeling.  But these attainments are not very reconcilable with the character of its authors, supposing it
to be a fiction; that is, with the character of habitual
liars and impious deceivers.
But we are not only unable to discover powers adequate to this invention.  There must have been motives




128              THE EVIDENCES OF
for it; for men do not make great efforts, without strong
motives; and, in the whole compass of human incitements, we challenge the infidel to suggest any, which
could have prompted to the work now to be explained.
Once more, it must be recollected, that this invention,
if it were -one, was received as real, at a period so near
to the time ascribed to Christ's appearance, that the
means of detecting it were infinite.  That men should
send out. such a forgery, and that it should prevail and
triumph, are circumstances not easily reconcilable with
the principles of our nature.
The character of Christ, then, was real.  Its reality
is the only explanation of the mighty revolution produced by his religion. And how can you account for
it, but by that cause to which he always referred it, - a
mission from the Father?
Next to the character of Christ, his religion might
be shown to abound in circumstances which contradict
and repel the idea of a human origin.  For example,
its representations of the paternal character of God; its
inculcation of a universal charity; the stress which it
lays on inward purity; its substitution of a spiritual worship for the forms and ceremonies, which everywhere
had usurped the name and extinguished the life of religion; its preference of humility, and of the mild, unostentatious, passive virtues, to the dazzling qualities
which had monopolized men's admiration; its consistent
and bright discoveries of immortality; its adaptation
to the wants of man as a sinner; its adaptation to all
the conditions, capacities, and sufferings of human nature; its pure, sublime, yet practicable morality; its
high and generous motives; and its fitness to form a




REVEALED RELIGION.              129
character, whvch plainly prepares for a higher life than
the present; these are peculiarities of Christianity,
which will strike us more and more, in proportion as
we understand distinctly the circumstances of the age
and country in which this religion appeared, and for
which no adequate human cause has been or can be
assigned.
Passing over these topics, each of which might be
enlarged into a discourse, I will make but one remark
on this religion, which strikes my own mind very forcibly.   Since its introduction, human nature has made
great progress, and society experienced great changes;
and in this advanced condition of the world, Christianity, instead of losing its application and importance,
is found to be more and more congenial and adapted
to man's nature and wants.  Alen have outgrown the
other institutions of that period when Christianity appeared, its philosophy, its modes of warfare, its policy,
its public and private economy; but Christianity has
never shrunk as intellect has opened, but has always
kept in advance of men's faculties, and unfolded nobler
views in proportion as they have ascended.  The highest powers and affections, which our nature has developed, find more than adequate objects in this religion.
Christianity is indeed peculiarly fitted to the more improved stages of society, to the more delicate sensibilities of refined minds, and especially to that dissatisfaction with the present states which always grows with the
growth of our moral powers and affections. As men
advance in civilization, they become susceptible of mental sufferings, to which. ruder ages are strangers; and
these Christianity is fitted to  assuage.  Imagination
and intellect become more restless; and Christianity




130              THE EVIDENCES OF
brings them tranquillity, by the eternal and magnificent
truths, the solemn and unbounded prospects, which it
unfolds.  This fitness of our religion to more advanced
stages of society than that in which it was introduced,
to wants of human nature not then developed, seems
to me very striking.  The religion bears the marks of
having come from a being who perfectly understood the
human mind, and had power to provide for its progress.
This feature of Christianity is of the nature of prophecy.  It was an anticipation of future and distant ages;
and, when we consider among whom our religion sprung,
where, but in God, can we find an explanation of this
peculiarity?
I have now offered a few hints on the character of
Christ, and on the character of his religion; and, before
quitting these topics, I would observe, that they form
a strong presumption in favor of the miraculous facts
of the Christian history.  These miracles were not
wrought by a man, whose character, in other respects,
was ordinary. They were acts of a being, whose mind
was as singular as his works, who spoke and acted with
more than human authority, whose moral qualities and
sublime purposes were in accordance with superhuman
powers.  Christ's miracles are in unison with his whole
character, and bear a proportion to it, like that which
we observe in the most harmonious productions of nature; and in this way they receive from it great confirmation.  And the same presumption in their favor
arises from his religion.  That a religion, carrying in itself such marks of divinity, and so inexplicable on human
principles, should receive outward confirmations firom
Omnipotence, is not surprising. The extraordinary character of the religion accords with and seems to de



REVEALED RELIGION.             131
mand extraordinary interpositions in its behalf.  Its
miracles are not solitary, naked, unexplained, disconnected events, but are bound up with a system, which
is worthy of God, and impressed with God; which
occupies a large space, and is operating, with great and
increasing energy, in human affairs.
As yet I have not touched on what seem to many
writers the strongest proofs of Christianity, I mean the
direct evidences of its miracles; by which we mean the
testimony borne to them, including the character, conduct, and condition of the witnesses.  These I have
not time to unfold; nor is this labor needed; for Paley's inestimable work, which is one of your classical
books, has stated these proofs with great clearness and
power. I would only observe, that they may all be
resolved into this single principle, namely, that the
Christian miracles were originally believed under such
circumstances, that this belief can only be explained
by their actual occurrence.  That Christianity was received at first on the ground of miracles, and that its
first preachers and converts proved the depth and
strength of their conviction -of these facts, by attesting
them in sufferings and in death, we know from the most
ancient records which relate to this religion, both Christian and Heathen; and, in fact, this conviction; can
alone explain their adherence to Christianity.  Now,
that this conviction could only have sprung from the
reality of the miracles, we infer from the known circumstances of these witnesses, whose passions, interests, and strongest prejudices were originally hostile
to the new religion; whose motives for examining with
care the facts on which it rested, were as urgent and




132              TUE EVIDENCES OF
solemn, and whose means and opportunities of ascern
taining their truth were as ample and unfailing, as can
be conceived to conspire; so that the supposition of
their falsehood cannot be admitted, without subverting our trust in human judgment and human testimony
under the most favorable circumstances for discovering
truth; that is, without introducing universal skepticism.
There is one class of Christian evidences, to which
I have but slightly referred, but which has struck with
peculiar force men of reflecting minds.  I refer to the
marks of truth and reality, which are found in the Christian Records; to the internal proofs, which the books
of the New Testament carry with them, of having been
written by men who lived in the first age of Christianity, who believed and felt its truth, who bore a part in
the labors and conflicts which attended its establishment, and who wrote, from personal knowledge and deep
conviction.  A few remarks to illustrate the nature and
power of these internal proofs, which are furnished by
the books of the New Testament, I will now subjoin.
The New Testament consists of histories and epistles. The historical books, namely, the Gospels and
the Acts, are.a continued narrative, embracing many
years, and professing to give the history of the rise
and, progress of the religion.  Now it is worthy of observation, that these writings;completely answer their
end; that they completely solve the problem, how this
peculiar religion grew up and established itself in the
world; that they furnish precise and adequate causes
for this stupendous revolution in human affairs.  It is
also worthy:of remark, that they relate a series of facts,
which are not only connected with one another, butt are




REVEALED RELIGION.             1-33
intimately linked with the long series which has followed them) and agree accurately with subsequent history, so as to account for land sustain it.  Now, that a
collection of fictitious narratives, coming from different
hlands, comprehending many years, and spreading over
many countries, should not only form a consistent whole,
when taken by themselves; but should also connect and
interweave themselves with real history so naturally and
intimately, as to furnish no clue for detection, as to exclude the appearance of incongruity and discordance,
and as to give an adequate explanation and the only
explanation of acknowledged events, of the most important revolution in society; this is a supposition fiom
which an intelligent man at once revolts, and which, if
admitted, would shake a principal foundation of history.
I have before spoken of the unity and consistency of
Christ's character as developed in the Gospels, and of
the agreement of the different writers in giving us the
singular features of his mind. Now there are the same
marks of truth running through the whole of these narratives. For example, the effects produced by Jesus
on the various classes of society; the different feelings
of admiration, attachment, and envy,, which he called
forth; the various expressions of these feelings; the
prejudices, mistakes, and gradual illumination of his
disciples; —these are all given to us with such marks of
truth and reality as could not easily be counterfeited.
The whole history is precisely such, as might be expected from the actual appearance of such- a person as
Jesus Christ, in such a state of society as then existed.
The Epistles, if possible, abound in marks of truth
and reality even more than the Gospels.  They are
VOL. 111.             12




134               THE EVIDENCES OF
imbued thoroughly with the spirit of the first age of
Christianity.  They bear all the marks of having come
from men plunged in the conflicts which the new religion excited, alive to its interests, identified with its
fortunes.  They betray the very state of mind which
must have been generated by the peculiar condition of
the first propagators of the religion.  They are letters
written on real business, intended for immediate effects,
designed to meet prejudices and passions, which such
a religion must at first have awakened.  They contain
not a trace of the circumstances of a later age, or of
the feelings, impressions, and modes of thinking by
which later times were characterized, and from which
later writers could not easily have escaped.  The letters of Paul have a remarkable agreement with his
history.  They are precisely such as might be expected
from a man of a vehement mind, who had been brought
up in the schools of Jewish literature, who had been
converted by a sudden, overwhelming, miracle, who had
been intrusted with the preaching of the new religion
tq the Gentiles, and who was everywhere met by the
prejudices and persecuting spirit of his own nation.
They are full of obscurities growing out of these points
of Paul's history and character, and out of the circumstances of the infant church, and which nothing but an
intimate acquaintance with that early period can illustrate. This remarkable infusion of the spirit of the
first age into the Christian Records, cannot easily be
explained but by the fact, that they were written in
that age by the real and zealous propagators of Christianity, and that they are records of real convictions and
of actual events.




REVEALED RELIGION.             135
There is another evidence of Christianity, still more
internal than any on which I have yet dwelt, an evidence to be felt rather than described, but not less real
because founded on feeling.  I refer to that conviction
of the divine original of our religion, which springs up
and continually gains strength, in those who apply it habitually to their tempers and lives, and who imbibe its
spirit and hopes.  In such men, there is a consciousness
of the adaptation of Christianity to their noblest faculties; a consciousness of its exalting and consoling influences, of its power to confer the true happiness of human nature, to give that peace which the world cannot
give; which assures them, that it is not of earthly origin,
but a ray from the Everlasting Light, a stream from the
Fountain of Heavenly Wisdom and Love. This is the
evidence which sustains the faith of thousands, who
never read and cannot understand the learned books of
Christian apologists, who want, perhaps, words to explain the ground of their belief, but whose faith is of
adamantine firmness, who hold the Gospel with a conviction more intimate and unwavering than mere argument ever produced.
But I must tear myself from a subject, which opens
upon me continually as I proceed. -Imperfect as this
discussion is, the conclusion, I trust, is placed beyond
doubt, that Christianity is true.  And, my hearers, if
true, it is the greatest of all truths, deserving and demanding our reverent attention and fervent gratitude.
This religion must never be confounded with our common blessings.  It is a revelation of pardon, which, as
sinners, we all need.  Still more, it is a revelation of
human immortality; a doctrine, which, however under.
valued amidst the bright anticipations of inexperienced




136     THE EVIDENCES OF REVEALED RELIGION.
youth, is found to be our strength and consolation, and
the only effectual spring of persevering and victorious
virtue, when the realities of life have scattered our visionary hopes; when pain, disappointment, and temptation press' upon us; when this world's enjoyments are
found unable to quench that deep thirst of happiness
which burns in every breast; when friends, whom we
love as our own souls, die; and our own graves open
before us, - To all who hear me, and especially to my
young hearers, I would say, let the truth of this religion
be the strongest conviction of your understandings; let
its motives and precepts sway with an absolute power
your characters and lives.




THE
DEMANDS OF THE AGE ON THE MINISTRY.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
ORDINATION OF THE REV. E, S. GANNETT.
BOSTON, 1824.
MATTHEW X. 16: " Behold I send you forth as sheep in the
midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless
as doves."
THE communication of moral and religious truth is the
most important office committed to men.  The Son of
GoA came into the world, not to legislate for nations,
not to command armies, not to sit on the throne of universal monarchy; but to teach religion, to establish
truth and holiness.  The highest end of human nature is
duty, virtue, piety, excellence, moral greatness, spiritual
glory; and he who effectually labors for these, is taking
part with God, in God's noblest work. The Christian
ministry, then, which has for its purpose men's spiritual
improvement and salvation, and which is intrusted for
this end with weapons of heavenly temper and power,
deserves to be ranked amongst God's most beneficent
institutions and men's most honorable labors.  The
12"*




1 38          THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
occasion requires that this institution should be our principal topic.
How happy a change has taken place since the words
of Christ in the text were spoken! Ministers are no
longer sent forth into the midst of wolves.  Through the
labors, sufferings, and triumphs of apostles, martyrs,
and good and great men in successive ages, Christianity
has become the professed and honored religion of the
most civilized nations, and its preachers are exposed to
very different temptations from those of savage persecution.  Still our text has an application to the present
time.  We see our Saviour commanding his Apostles,
to regard in their ministry the circumstances of the age
in which they lived.  Surrounded with foes, they were
to exercise the wisdom or prudence of which the serpent
was in ancient times the emblem, and to join with it the
innocence -and mildness of the dove.  And, in like manner, the Christian minister is at all periods to regard
the signs, the distinctive marks and character of the age
to which he belongs, and must accommodate his ministry
to its wants and demands.  Accordingly, I propose to
-consider some of the leading traits of the present age,
and the influence which they should have on a Christian
teacher.
I. The state of the world, compared with the past,
may be called enlightened, and requires an enlightened
ministry.  It hardly seems necessary to prove, that re,
ligion should be dispensed by men who at least keep
pace with the intellect of the age in which they live.
Some passages of Scripture, however, have been wrested
to prove, that an unlearned ministry is that which God
particularly honors.  He always chooses, we are told,




oxN pHE MTIMSIChy.            i39
" the'foolish things of the world to confound the wise.')
But texts of this description are misunderstood, through
the very ignorance which they are adduced to support.
The wise, who are spoken of contemptuously in the
New Testament, were not really enlightened men, but
pretenders to wisdom, who substituted dreams of imagination and wild hypotheses for sober inquiry into God's
works, and who knew comparatively nothing of nature
or the human mind. The present age has a quite different illumination from that in'which ancient philosophy
prided itself.  It is marked by great and obvious improvements in the methods of reasoning and inquiry, and
by the consequent discovery and diffusion of a great
mass of physical and moral truth, wholly unknown in
the time of Christ. Now we affirm, that such an age
demands an enlightened ministry.  We want teachers,
who will be able to discern and unfold the consistency
of revealed religion with the new lights which are breaking in from nature; and who will be able to draw, from
all men's discoveries in the outward world and in their
own souls, illustrations, analogies, and arguments for
Christianity.  We have reason to believe, that God,
the author of nature and revelation, has established a
harmony between them, and that their beams are intended to mingle and shed a joint radiance; and, consequently, other things being equal, that teacher is best
fitted to dispense Christianity, whose compass of mind,enables him to compare what God is teaching in his
Works and in his Word, and to present the truths of
religion with those modifications and restraints which
other acknowledged truths require.  Christianity now
needs dispensers, who will make history, nature, and
the improvements of society, tributary to its elucidation




1%40           THE DEMANDS OS' THE AGE'
and support; who will show its adaptation to man as ace
ever progressive being; who will be able to meet the
objections to its truth, which will naturally be started in
an active, stirring, inquiring age; and, though last not
least, who will have enough of mental and moral courage
to detect and renounce the errors in the Church, on
which such objections are generally built.  In such an
age, a. ministry is wanted, which will furnish discussions
of religious, topics, not inferior at least in intelligence to
those which people are accustomed to read and hear on
other subjects.  Christianity will suffer, if at a time
when vigor and acuteness of thinking are carried into all
other departments, the pulpit should send forth nothing
but wild declamation, positive assertion, or dull commonplaces, with. which even childhood is satiated. Religion
must be seen to be the friend and quickener of intellect.
It must be exhibited with clearness of reasoning and
variety of illustration; nor ought it to be deprived of
the benefits of a pure and felicitous diction and of rich:
and glowing imagery, where these gifts fall to the lot of
the teacher.  It is not meant that every minister must
be a man of genius; for genius is one of God's rarest
inspirations; and of all the breathings of genius, perhaps
the rarest is eloquence.  I mean only to say, that the
age demands of those, who devote themselves to the
administration of Christianity, that they should feel themselves called upon for the highest cultivation and fullest
developement of the  intellectual nature.  Instead of
thinking, that the ministry is a refuge for dulness, and
that whoever can escape fromn the plough is fit for God's
spiritual husbandry, we ought to feel that no profession
demands more enlarged thinking and more various ac,
quisitions of truth.




ON THE IUNISTRY.             141
In proportion as society becomes enlightened, talent
acquires influence.  In rude ages bodily strength is the
most honorable distinction, and in subsequent times
military prowess and skill confer mastery and eminence.
But as society advances, mind, thought, becomes the
sovereign of the world; and accordingly, at the present
moment, profound and glowing thought, though breathing only from the silent page, exerts a kind of omnipotent and omnipresent energy.  It crosses oceans and
spreads through nations; and, at one and the same momnent, the conceptions of a single mind are electrifying
and kindling multitudes, through wider regions than the
Roman eagle overshadowed. This agency of mind on
mind, I repeat it, is the true sovereignty of the world,
and kings and heroes are becoming impotent by the side
of men of deep and fervent thought.  In such a state
of things, religion would wage a very unequal war, if
divorced from  talent and cultivated intellect, if comnitted to weak and untaught minds.  God plainly intends, that it should be advanced by human agency;
and does he not then intend, to summon to its aid the
mightiest and noblest power with which man is gifted?
Let it not be said, that Christianity has an intrinsic
glory, a native beauty, which no art or talent of man
can heighten; that Christianity is one and the same,
by whatever lips it is communicated, and that it needs
nothing but the most naked exposition of its truths, to
accomplish its saving purposes.  Who does not know,
that all truth takes a hue and form firom the soul through
which it passes, that in every mind it is invested with
peculiar associations, and that, consequently, the same
truth is quite a different thing, when exhibited by men
of different habits of thought and feeling? Who does




1 42-         THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
not know, that the sublimest doctrines lose in some
hands all their grandeur, and the loveliest all their attractiveness?  Who does not know, how much the
diffusion and power of any system, whether physical,
moral, or political, depend on the order according tc
which it is arranged, on the broad andl consistent views
which are given of it, on the connexions which it is.
shown to hold with other truths, on the analogies by
-which it is illustrated, adorned, and enforced, andc,
though last not least, on the clearness and energy ofthe style in which it is conveyed?  "c Nothing is needed
in religion," some say, " but tile naked truth."  But I
apprehend that there is no such thing as naked truth,
at least as far as moral subjects are concerned.  Truth
which relates to God, and duty, and happiness, and a
future state, is always humanized, if I. may so use the
word, by passing through a human mind; and, when
communicated powerfully, it always comes to us in drapery thrown round it by the imagination, reason, and
moral feelings of the teacher.  It comes to us warm
and living with the impressions and affections which it
has produced in the soul from which it issues; and it
ought so to come; for the highest evidence of moral
truth is found in the moral principles and feelings of
our nature, and therefore it fails of its best support,
unless it is seen to accord with and to act upon these.
The evidence of Christianity, which operates most
universally, is not history nor miracles, but its corre-.
spondence to the noblest capacities, deepest wants, and
purest aspirations of our nature, to the cravings of an
immortal spirit; and when it comes to us from a mind,
in which it has discovered nothing of this adaptation:
and has touched none of these springs, it waits onAge




-oN THE MINISTRY.              143
oi its chief signatures of divinity. Christianity is not,
then, to be exhibited nakedly.  It owes much of Its
power to the mind which communicates it; and the
greater the enlargement and developement of the mind
of which it has possessed itself, and from  which it'flows, the wider and deeper will be its action on other
souls.
It may be said, without censoriousness, that the ordinary mode, in which Christianity has been exhibited
in past times, does not suit the illumination of the present. That mode has been too narrow, technical, pedantic.  Religion has been made a separate business,
and a dull, unsocial, melancholy business, too, instead
of being manifested as a truth which bears on and
touches every thing human, as a universal spirit, which
ought to breathe through and modify all our desires and
pursuits, all our trains of thought and emotion.  And
this narrow, forbidden mode of exhibiting Christianity,
is easily explained by its early history.  Monks shut up
in cells; a priesthood cut off by celibacy from the
sympathies and most interesting relations of life; and
universities enslaved to a scholastic logic, and taught to
place wisdom in verbal subtilties and unintelligible definitions; these took Christianity into their keeping; and
at their chilling touch, this generous religion, so full of
life and affection, became a dry, frigid, abstract system.
Christianity, as it came from their hands, and has been
transmitted by a majority of Protestant divines, reminds
us of the human form, compressed by swathing-bands,
until every joint is rigid, every movernent constrained,
and almost all the beauty and grace of nature obliterated. Instead of regarding it as a heavenly institution,
designed to perfect our whole nature, to offer awakenipn,




144           THE DEMAANDS OF rTI  AGEc
and purifying objects to the intellect, imagination, and
heart, to develope every capacity of devout and social
feeling, to form a rich, various, generous virtue, divines
have cramped and tortured the Gospel into various systems, composed in the main of theological riddles and
contradictions; and this religion of love has been made
to inculcate a monkish and dark-visaged piety, very
hostile to the free expansion and full enjoyment of, all
our faculties and social affections.  Great improvements
indeed in this particular are taking place among Christians of almost every denomination.  Religion has been
brought from:the cell of the monk, and the school of
the verbal disputant, into life and society; and its connexions with all our pursuits and feelings have been
made manifest.  Still, Christianity, I apprehend, is not
viewed in sufficiently broad lights to meet the spirit of
an age, which is tracing connexions between all objects
of thought'and branches of knowledge, and which cannot but distrust an alleged revelation, in as far as it is
seen to want harmonies and affinities with other parts
of God's system, and especially with human nature and
human life.
II. The age in which we live demands not only an
enlightened but an earnest ministry, for it is an age of
earnestness and excitement.  Men feel and think at
present with more energy than formerly.  There is
more of interest and fervor. We learn now from experience what might have been inferred from the purposes of our Creator, that civilization and refinement
are not, as has been sometimes thought, inconsistent
with sensibility; that the intellect may grow without
exhausting or overshadowing the heart.  The human




oN ThE MNISTRY.                1 4 5
mind was never more in earnest than at the present,moment.  The political revolutions, which form  such
broad features and distinctions  of our -age, have sprung
from a new and deep working in the human soul.  MAlen
have caught glimpses, however indistinct,:of the worth,
dignity, rights, -and great interests of their nature;  and
a thirst for untried good, and impatience of long en-.
dured wrongs, have broken out wildly, like the fires of
Etna, and shaken and convulsed the earthl  It is imp.
possible not to discern this increased fervor of mind in
every department -of life.  A new spirit of improvement
is abroad.  The imagination can no longer be confined
to the acquisitions of past ages, but is kindling the passions by vague but noble ideas of blessings never yet
attained. 3Multitudes, unwilling. to wait the slow pace
of that great innovator, time, are taking the work of
reform into their own hands.   Accordinglyj,the reverence for antiquity and for age-hallowed establishments.
and the passion for change and amelioration, are now
arrayed against each other in open hostility, and all great
questions, affecting human happiness, are debated with
the eagerness of party.  The character of the age is
stamped very strongly on its literary productions. Who,
that can compare the present with the past, is not: struck
with the bold and earnest spirit of the literature of ourtimes.  It refuses to waste itself on trifles, or to minister to mere gratification.  Almost all that is written.
has now some bearing on great interests of human nature.  Fiction is no longer a mere amusement; but
transcendent genius, accommodating itself to the character of the age, has seized upon this province of literature, and turned fiction from a toy into a mighty
engine, and, under the light tale, is breathing through
VOL. IIl.              13




146            THA  DEMANDS OP fTHE AGE
the community either its reverence for the old or its
thirst for the new, commrnnicates the spirit and lessons
of history, unfolds tile operations of religious and civil
institutions, and defends or assails new theories of education or morals by exhibiting them in life and action.
The poetry of the age is equlally characteristic.  It has
a deeper and more impressive tone than comes to us
from what has been called the Augustan age of.English
literature.  The regular, elaborate, harmonious strains,
which delighted a former generation, are now accused,
I say not how justly, of playing too much on the surface of nature and of the heart.  Men want and demland a more thrilling note, a poetry which pierces beneath the exterior of life to the depths of the soul, and
which lays open its mysterious workings, borrowing from
the whole outward creation fresh images and correspondences, with which to illuminate the secrets of the world
within us.  So keen is this appetite, that extravagances
of imagination, and gross violations both of taste and
moral sentiment, are forgiven, when conjoined with what
awakens strong emotion; and unhappily the most stirring is the most popular poetry, even though it issue
from the desolate soul of a misanthrope and a libertine,
and exhale poison and death.
Now, religion ought to be dispensed in accommodation to this spirit and character of our age.  Men desire
excitement, and religion must be communicated in a
more exciting form.  It must be seen not only to correspond and to be adapted to the intellect, but to furnish
nutriment and appeals to the highest and profoundest
sentiments of our nature.  It must not be exhibited in
the dry, pedantic devisions of a scholastic theology; nor
must it be set forth and tricked out in the light drapery




ON THE MINISTRY.              147
of an artificial rhetoric, in prettinesses of style, in measured sentences, with an insipid floridness, and in the
form  of elegantly feeble essays.  No; it must come
front the soul in the language of earnest conviction
and strong feeling.  AMen will not now be trifled with.
They listen impatiently to great subjects treated with
apathy.  They want a religion which will take a strong
hold upon them; and no system, I am  sure, can now
maintain its ground, which wants the power of awakening real and deep interest in the soul.  It is objected
to Unitarian Christianity, that it does not possess this
heart-stirring energy; and if so, it will, and still more,
it ought to fall; for it does not suit the spirit of our
finmes, nor the essential and abiding spirit of human nature.  Men will prefer even a fanaticism  which is in
earnest, to a pretended rationality, which leaves untouched all the great springs of the soul, which never
lays a quickening hand on our love and veneration, our
awe and fear, our hope and joy.
It is obvious, I think, that the spirit of the age, which
demands a more exciting administration of Christianity,
begins to be understood and is responded to by preachers.  Those of us, whose memory extends back but a
little way, can see a revolution taking place in this country.  " The repose of the pulpit" has been disturbed.
In England, the Established Church gives broad symptoms of awaking; and the slumbering incumbents of a
state religion, either reused by sympathy, or aware of
the necessity of self-defence, are beginning to exhibit
t h,; energy of the freer and more zealous sects around
them.
In such an age, earnestness should characterize the
ministry; and by this I mean, not a louder voice or a




1T48           THE DEMANDS OF THfE AGE
more vehement gesture; I imean no.tricks of oratory
but a solemn conviction,that religion is a great concern, and a solemn purpose that its. claims shall be felt
by; others.  To suit such an age, a minister must comemunicate: religion, not only as a resulit of reasoning,
but as a matter of experiencen, with that' inexpressible
character of reality, that life and power,. which accompany truths drawn from. a man's own soul.  We ought
to speak.of religion as something which. we ourselves
know.' Its influences, struggles, joys, sorrows, triumphs,
should be delineated from  our own history.  The life
and sensibility which we would spread., should be strong
in our own breasts.. This is the only genuine, unfailing spring of an earnest ministry.. ~ Men may work
themselves for a time into a fervor by artificial means;
but, the flame is -unsteady, Ia crackling.of thorns" on
a- cold hearth;and. after all, it is. hard for the most
successful art to give, even for a time,. that soul-subduing tone to. the voice, that air of native feeling to the
countenance, and that raciness and freshness to the conceptions, which come from  an experimental conviction
of religious truth;- and, accordingly, I would suggest,
that the most:important part of theological education,.
even in this enlightened age, is not the communication
of knowledge, essential as that is, but the conversion
and exaltation: of religious knowledge into a living, practical, and soul-kindling'conviction.  Much as the age
requires intellectual culture in a minister, it requires
still more, that his. acquisitions of truth should be instinct with life and feeling; that he should- deliver his
message, not mechanically and "o in the line of his profossion," but with the sincerity  and earnestness of a
man.. bent. on'reat effects, that he shoul  speak. of'




'ON THE MINISTRY.               149
God, of Christ, of the dignity and loveliness of Chris.
tian virtue, of heaven and redemption, not as of traditions and historical records, about which he has only
read, but as of realities which he understands and feels
in the very depths of his soul.
III. The present is an age of free and earnest inquiry
on the subject of religion, and, consequently, an age in
which the extremes of skepticism  and bigotry, and a
multiplicity of sects, and a diversity of interpretations
of the Sacred Volume, must be expected; and these
circumstances of the times influence and modify the
duties of the ministry.  Free inquiry cannot exist without generating a degree of skepticism; and against this
influence, more disastrous than any error of any sect,
a minister is bound to erect every barrier. The human
mind, by a natural reaction, is undoubtedly tending,
after its long vassalage, to licentious speculation.  Men
have begun to send keen, searching glances into old
institutions, whether of religion, literature, or policy;
and have detected so many abuses, that a suspicion of
what is old has in many cases taken place of the veneration for antiquity.  In such an age, Christianity must
be subjected to a rigid scrutiny. Church establishments
and state patronage cannot screen it from investigation;
and its ministers, far from being called to remove it
from the bar of reasons where God has chosen that it
should appear, are only bound to see that its claims be
fairly and fuilly made known; and to this they are solemnly bound; and, consequently, it is one of their first
duties to search deeply and understand thoroughly the
true foundations and evidences, on which the religion
stands.  Now it seems to-me, that just in proportion as




'IA~a        TIE DEMANDS OPP ThE AGE
the human mind makes progress, the inward evidences
of Christianity, the; marks of divinity which it wears:on
its own brow, are becoming more and more important.
I refer to the evidences!which are drawn from itss ex
cellence, purity, and happy influences; from its adaptation to the spiritual wants, to the weakness and- the
greatness of human nature;-from the original and unborrowed character;.the greatness — of soul, and the
celestial loveliness of -its Founder; from. its unbounded
benevolence, corresponding with the spirit of the universe; and from its views of God's parental character
and purposes, of human duty and perfection, and of a
future state; views manifestly tending to the exaltation
and perpetual improvement of our nature, yet wholly
opposed to -the character of the age in which they were
unfolded.  The historical and miraculous proofs of
Christianity are indeed essential and impregnable; buts
without superseding these, the inward proofs, of which
I speak, are becoming more and more necessary, and
exert a greater power, in proportion as the moral discernment and sensibilities of men are strengthened and
enlarged.  And, if this be true, then Christianity is endangered, and skepticismn fortified, by nothing so much
as by representations of the religion, which sully its native lustre- and darken its inward signatures of a heavenly origin; and, accordingly, the first and most solemn
duty of its ministers is, to resue it from  such perversions; to see that it be not condemned for doctrines for
which it is in no respect responsible; and to vindicate
its' character as eminently a rational religion, that is, a
religion consistent with itself, with the great principles
of;human nature, with God's acknowledged attributes,
and with those indestructible convictions, which spring




ONS THE MINISTRY.             151
almost instinctively from  our moral constitution, and
which grow  stronger and stronger as the human mind
is.developed.  A  professed revelation, carrying contradiction on its front, and wounding those sentiments
of justice and goodness, which are the highest tests of
moral truthj cannot stand; and those who thus exhibit
Christianity, however pure their aim, are shaking its
foundations more deeply than its open and inveterate
foes.
But free inquiry not only generates occasional skepticism, )but much more a diversity of opinion among
the-believers of Christianity; and to this the ministry
must have a special adaptation, In such an age, the
ministry must in a measure be controversial.  In par
ticular,. a minister, who after serious investigation attaches himself to that class of Christians, to which we
of this religious society are. known to belong, cannot
but feel that the painful office of conflict with other
denominations is laid upon him; for, whilst we deny
the Christian name to none who. acknowledge Jesus as
their Saviour and Lord, we do deliberately believe,
that, by many who confess him, his religion is mournfully disfigured.  We believe,. that piety at present is
robbed in no small degree of its singleness, energy, and
happiness, by the multiplication in the church of objects
of supreme worship; by the division of the One God
into three persons, who sustain different relations to
mankind; and, above all, by the dishonorable views
formed of the moral character and administration of the
Deity.  Errors relating to God seem to us among the
most pernicious that can grow up among Christians; for
they darken, and, in the strong language of Scripture,
"turn into blood, " the Sun of the Spiritual Universe.




1 5$2    -    THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
Around just views of the Divine character all truths
and all virtues naturally gather; and although some
minds of native irrepressible vigor may rise to greatness, in spite of dishonorable conceptions of God, yet,
as a general rule, human nature cannot spread to its
just and full proportions under their appalling, enslaving, heart-withering control. We discover very plain-l
ly, as we think, in the frequent torpor of the conscience
and heart in regard to religious obligation, the inelancholy influences of that system, so prevalent among us,
which robs our heavenly Father of his parental attributes.  Indeed it seems impossible for the conscience,
under such injurious representations of the Divine character, to discharge intelligently its solemn office of enforcing love to God as man's highest duty; and, accordingly, when religious excitements take place under
this gloomy system, they bear the marks of a morbid
action, much more than of a healthy, restorative process of the moral nature.
These errors a minister of liberal views of Christianity will feel himself bound to withstand.  But let me
not be understood, as if I would have the ministry given
chiefly to controversy, and would turn the pulpit into a
battery for the perpetual ^ ——.it of adverse sects.  0,
no.  Other strains than those of warfare should predominate in this sacred place.  A  minister may be
faithful to truth, without brandishing  perpetually the
weapons of controversy. Occasional discussions of disputei doctrines are indeed demanded by the zeal with
which error is main lined.  But it becolnes the preacher to remember, that there is a silent, indirect influence,
more sure and powerful than direct assault on false opinions.  The most effectual method of expelling error,




ON THE MINISTRY.              153
is, not to meet it sword in hand, but gradually to instil
great truths, with which it cannot easily coexist, and
by which the mind outgrows it. Men who have been
recovered from false systems, will generally tell you,
that the first step of their deliverance was the admission
of some principle which seemed not to menace their
past opinions, but which prepared the mind for the entrance of another and another truth, until they were
brought, almost without suspecting it, to look on:almost
every doctrine of religion with other eyes, and in another and more generous light.  The old superstitions
about ghosts and dreams were not expelled by argument, for hardly a book was written against them; but
men gradually outgrew them; and the spectres, which
had haunted the terror-stricken soul for ages, fled before
an improved philosophy, just as they were supposed to
vanish before the rising sun.  And, in the same manner,
the errors which disfigure Christianity, and from which
no creed is free, are to yield to the growth of the human mind.  Instead of spending his strength in tracking
and refuting error, let the minister, who would serve
the cause of truth, labor to gain and diffuse more and
more enlarged and lofty views of our religion, of its
nature, spirit, and end.  Let him  labor to separate
what is of universal and everlasting application, from
the local and the temporary; to penetrate beneath the
letter to the spirit; to detach the primary, essential,
and all-comprehending principles of Christianity from
the incrustations, accidental associations, and subordinate appendages by which they are often obscured;
and to fix and establish these in men's minds as the
standard by which more partial views are to be tried.
Let him especially set forth -the great moral purpose of




-154          THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
Christianity, always teaching, that Christ came to de.
liver from  the power still more than from  the punishment of sin; that his most important operation is within us; and that the highest end of his mission is, the
erection of God's throne in the soul, the inspiration of
a fervent filial piety, a piety founded in confiding views
of God's parental character, and manifested in a charity
corresponding to God's unbounded and ever-active love.
In addition to these efforts, let him strive to communicate the just principles of interpreting the Scriptures,
that men, reading them  more intelligently, may read
them with new interest, and he will have discharged his
chief duty in relation to controversy.
It is an interesting thought, that, through the influences now described, a sensible progress is taking place
in men's conceptions of Christianity.  It is a plain matter of fact, that the hard features of that religious system, which has been "' received by tradition from  our
fathers," are greatly softened; and that a necessity is
felt by those who hold it, of accommodating their representations of it more and more to the improved philosophy of the human mind, and to the undeniable principles of natural and revealed religion.  Unconditional
Election is seldom heard of among us. The Imputation of Adam's sin to his posterity, is hastening to join
the exploded doctrine of Transubstantiation. The more
revolting representations of man's state by nature, are
judiciously kept out of sight; and, what is of still greater importance, preaching is incomparably more practical than formerly.  And all these changes are owing,
not to theological controversy so much as to the general
progress of the human mind.  This progress is especially discernible in the diminished importance now as



ON THE MINISTRY.              155
cribed to the outward parts of Christianity. Christians,
having grown up to understand that their religion is a
spirit and not a form, are beginning to feel the puerility
as well as guilt of breaking Christ's followers into factions, on such questions as these, How much a Bishop
differs from a Presbyter? and, How great a quantity
of water should be used in baptism? And, whilst they
desire to ascertain the truth in these particulars, they
look back on the uncharitable heat with which these
and similar topics were once discussed, with something
of the wonder which they feel, on recollecting the violence of the Papists during the memorable debate,
Whether the Virgin Mary were born with original sin?
It is a consoling and delightful thought, that God, who
uses Christianity to advance civilization and knowledge,
makes use of this very advancement to bring back Christianity to a purer state, thus binding together, and carrying forward by mutual action, the cause of knowledge
and the cause of religion, and strengthening perpetually
their blended and blessed influences on human nature.
IV. The age is in many respects a corrupt one, and
needs and demands in the ministry a spirit of reform.
The age, I say, is corrupt; not because I consider it
as falling below the purity of past times, but because
it is obviously and grossly defective, when measured by
the Christian standard, and by the lights and advantages which it enjoys.  I know nothing to justify the
cry of modern degeneracy, but rather incline to the belief, that here at least the sense of religion was never
stronger than at present.  In comparing different peri
ods as to virtue and piety, regard must be had to differ.
ence of circumstances.  It would argue little wisdom




t 56          THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
or candor, to expect the same freedom  from  luxury ana
dissipation in this opulent and flourishing community,
as marked the first settlement of our country, when the
inhabitants, scarcely sheltered from the elements, and
almost wholly cut off from intercourse with the civilized word, could command little more than the necessaries of life; and yet it is through superficial comparisons in such particulars, that the past is often magnified
at the expense of the present.  I mean not toa strike a
balance between this age and former ones.  I look on
this age in the light of Cllristianity, as a minister ought
to look upon it; and whilst I see, much to cheer and
encourage, I see much to make a good man mourn, and
to stir up Christ's servants to prayer and toil.  That
our increased comforts, improved arts, and overflowing
prosperity are often abused to licentiousness; that Christianity is with multitudes a mere name and form; that
a practical atheism, which ascribes to nature and fortune the gifts and operations of God, and a practical
infidelity, which lives and cares and provides only for
the present state, abound on every side of us; that
much which is called morality, springs from a prudent
balancing of the passions, and a discreet regard to
worldly interests; that there is an insensibility to God,which, if our own hearts were not infected by it, would
shock and amaze us; that education, instead of guarding and rearing the moral and religious nature as its supreme care,- often betrays and sacrifices it to accomplishments and acquisitions which relate only to the
present life; that there is a mournful prevalence of dissoluteness among the young, and of intemperance among
the poor; that the very religion of peace is made a
torchbof discord; and that the fires of uncharitableness




ON THE MINISTRY-.             157
and bigotry, fires kindled. from hell, often burn on altars
consecrated to the true God;-that such evils exist,
who does not know?  What Christian can look round
him and say, that the state of society corresponds to
what men may and should be, under the light of the
Gospel: and in an age of advanced intelligence?  As
for that man, who, on surveying the world, thinks its
condition almost as healthy as can be desired or hoped;
who sees but a few superficial blots on the general aspect
of society; who thinks the ministry established for no
higher end, than to perpetuate the present state of morals
and religion; whose heart is never burdened and sorrowsmitten by the fearful doom to which multitudes around
him are thoughtlessly hastening;- 0, let not that man
take on him  the care of souls.  The physician, who
should enter an hospital to congratulate his dying patients
on their pleasant sensations, and rapid convalescence,
would be as faithful to his trust as the minister who sees
no deep moral maladies around him.  No man is fitted
to withstand great evils with energy, unless he be impressed by their greatness.  No man is fitted to enter
upon that warfare with moral evil, to which the ministry
is set apart, who is not pained and pierced by its extent
and woes; who does not burn to witness and advance a
great moral revolution in the world.
Am  I told, that "romantic expectations of great
changes in society will do more harm than good; that
the world will move along in its present course, let the
ministry do what it may; that we must take the present
state as God has made it, and not waste our strength in
useless lamentation for incurable evils."  I hold this
language, though it takes the name of philosophy, to be
wholly unwarranted by experience and revelation.  If
voL. TIT.             14




158           THIE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
there be one striking feature in human nature, it is its
susceptibleness of improvement; and who is authorized
to say, that the limit of Christian improvement is reached? that, whilst science and art, intellect and imagination, are extending their domains, the conscience and
affections, the moral and religious principles of our nature, are incapable of increased power and elevation?
Have we not pledges, in man's admiration of disinterested, heroic love; in his power of conceiving antd
thirsting for unattained heights of excellence; and in the
splendor and sublimity of virtue already manifested in
not a few who I' shine as lights " in the darkness of past
ages, that man was created for perpetual moral and religious progress? True, the minister should not yield
himself to romantic anticipations; for disappointment
may deject him.  Let him not expect to break in a moment chains of habit, which years have riveted, or to
bring back to immediate intimacy with God souls which
have wandered long and far from him. This is romance;
but there is something to be dreaded by the minister
more than this; I mean, that frigid tameness of mind,
too common in Christian teachers, which confounds the
actual and the possible; which cannot burst the shackles
of custom; which never kindles at the thought of great
improvements of human nature; which is satisfied if religion receive an outward respect, and never dreams of
enthroning it in men's souls; which looks on the strongholds of sin with despair; which utters by rote the solemn and magnificent language of the Gospel, without
expecting it to II work mightily"; which sees in the
ministry a part of the mechanism of society, a useful
guardian of public order, but never suspects the powers
with which it is armed by Christianity.




ON THE MINISTRY                159
The ministry is indeed armed with great powers for
great effects.  The doctrines which Christianity commits to its teachers, are mlighty engines.  The perfect
character of God; the tender and solemn attributes,
which belong to him as our Father and Judge; his purposes of infinite and everlasting mercy towards the human race; the character and history of Christ; his
entire, self-immolating devotion to the cause of mankind; his intimate union with his followers; his sufferings, and cross, his resurrection, ascension, and intercession; the promised aids of the Holy Spirit; the
immortality of man; the retributions which await the
unrepenting, and the felicities and glories of heaven, -
here are truths, able to move the whole soul and to war
victoriously with its host of passions.  The teacher, to
whom are committed the infinite realities of the spiritual
world, the sanctions of eternity, " the powers of the life
to come," has instruments to work with, which turn to
feebleness all other means of influence.  There is not
heard on earth a voice so powerful, so penetrating, as
that of an enlightened minister, who, under the absorbing influence of these mighty truths, devotes himself a
living sacrifice, a whole burnt-offering, to the cause of
enlightening and saving his fellow-creatures.
No; there is no romance in a minister's proposing,
and hoping to forward, a great moral revolution on the
earth; for the religion, which he is appointed to preach,
was intended and is adapted to work deeply and widely,
and to change the face of society.  Christianity was not
ushered into the world with such a stupendous preparation; it was not foreshown through so many ages by
enraptured prophets; it was not proclaimed so joyfully
by the songs of angels; it was not preached by such




160           THE DEMANDS OF THE AGE
holy lips and sealed by such precious blood, to be only
a pageant, a form, a sound, a show. 0, no. It has
come from heaven, with heaven's life and power, - come
to "make all things new," to make "the wilderness
glad and the desert blossom as the rose," to break the
stony heart, to set free the guilt-burdened and earthbound spirit, and to " present it faultless before God's
glory with exceeding joy." With courage and hope
becoming such a religion, let the minister bring to his
work the concentrated powers of intellect and affection,
and God, in whose cause he labors, will accompany and
crown the labor with an almighty blessing.
My brother, you are now to be set apart to the Christian ministry. I bid you welcome to its duties, and
implore for you strength to discharge them, a long and
prosperous course, increasing success, and everlasting
rewards. I also welcome you to the connexion which
is this day formed between you and myself. I thank
God for an associate, in whose virtues and endowments
I have the promise of personal comfort and relief, and,
still more, the pledges of usefulness to this people.  I
have lived too long, to expect unmingled good in this or
In any relation of life; nor am I ignorant of the difficulties and trials, which are thought to attend the union
of different minds and different hands in the care of the
same church.  God grant us that singleness of purpose,
that sincere concern for the salvation of our hearers,
which will make the success of each the happiness of
both. I know, for I have borne, the anxieties and sufferings which belong to the first years of the Christian
ministry, and I beg you to avail yourself of whatever
aid my experience can give you. But no human aid




ON THE MINISTRY.              161,an lift every burden from  your mind; nor would the
truest kindness desire for you exemption from the universal lot.  May the discipline, which awaits you, give
purity and loftiness to your motives; give energy and
tenderness to your character, and prepare you to minister
to the wants of a tempted and afflicted world, with that
sympathy and wisdom, which fellowship in suffering can
alone bestow.  iBIay you grow in grace, and in the spirit
of the ministry, as you grow in years; and, when the
voice which now speaks to you shall cease to be heard
within these walls, may you, my brother, be left to enjoy
and reward the confidence, to point out the path and the
perils, to fortify the virtues, to animate the piety, to
comfort the sorrows, to save the souls of this much
loved people.
Brethren of this Christian Society! I rejoice in the
proof, which this day affords, of your desire to secure
the administration of Christ's word and ordinances to
yourselves and your children; and I congratulate you
on the prospects which it opens before you. The recollections, which rush upon my mind, of your sympathy
and uninterrupted kindness through the vicissitudes of
my health and the frequent suspensions of my labors,
encourage me to anticipate for my young brother that
kindness and candor, on which the happiness of a minister so much depends. I cannot ask for him sincerer
attachment, than it has been my lot to enjoy.  I remember, however, that the reciprocation of kind feelings is
not the highest end of the mih;4try; and, accordingly,
my most earnest desire and prayer to God is, that, with
a new pastor, he may send you new  influences of'his
spirit, andi that, through our joint labors, Christianity,
14.*




162   THE DEMANDS OP THE AGE ON THE MINISTRY.
being rooted in your understandings and hearts, may
spring up into a rich harvest of universal goodness.
5May a more earnest concern for salvation, and a thirst
for more generous improvement, be excited in your
breasts. May a new life breathe through the worship of
this house, and a new love join the hearts of the worshippers.  May our ministry produce everlasting fiuits;
and on that great day, which will Summon the teacher
and tne taught before the judgment-seat of Christ, may
you, my much loved and respected people, be "' our
joy and crown "; and may we, when all hearts shall be
revealed, be seen to have sought your good with unfeigned and disinterested love!




UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
DEDICATION OF THE SECOND CONGREGATIONAL
UNITARIAN CHURCH.
NEW YORK, 1826.
MARK xii. 29, 30: "And Jesus answered him, The first of all the
commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one
Lord. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with
all thy strength. This is the first commandment."
WE have assembled to dedicate this building to the
worship of the only living and true God, and to the
teaching of the religion of his son, Jesus Christ.  By
this act we do not expect to confer on this spot of ground
and these walls any peculiar sanctity or any mysterious
properties.  We do not suppose, that, in Consequence
of rites now performed, the worship offered here will
be more acceptable than prayer uttered in the closet,
or breathed from the soul in the midst of business; or
that the instructions delivered from this pulpit will be
more effectual, than if they were uttered in a private
dwelling or the open air. By dedication we understand




164             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
only a solemn expression of the purpose for which this
building is reared, joined with prayer to Him, who
alone can crown our enterprise with success, that our
design may be accepted and fulfilled.  For this religious
act, we find indeed no precept in the New Testament,
and on this account some have scrupled as to its propriety.  But we are not among those who consider the
written Word as a statute-book, by the letter of which
every step in life must be governed.  We believe, on
the other hand, that one of the great excellences of
Christianity is, that it does not deal in minute regulation, but that, having given broad views of duty, and
enjoined a pure and disinterested spirit, it leaves us
to apply these rules and express this spirit according
to the promptings of the divine monitor within us, and
according to the claims and exigencies of the ever varying conditions in which we are placed. We believe,
too, that revelation is not intended to6 supersede'God's
other modes of instruction; that it is not intended to
drown, but to make more audible, the voice of nature.
Now, nature dictates the propriety of such an act as we
are this day assembled to perform.  Nature has always
taught men, on the completion of an important structure, designed for public and lasting good, to solemnize
its first appropriation to the purpose for which it was
reared, by some special service.  To us there is a
sacredness in this moral instinct, in this law written on
the heart; and in listening reverently to God's dictates,
however conveyed, we doubt not that we shall enjoy
his acceptance and blessing.
I have said, we dedicate this building to the teaching
of the Gospel of Christ.  But in the present state of
the Christian church, these words are not as definite as




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           165
they one day will be.  This Gospel is variously interpreted.  It is preached in various forms.  Christendom
is parcelled out. into various sects.  WVhen, therefore,
we see a new house of worship reared, the question
immediately arises, To what mode of teaching Christianity is it to be devoted?  I need not tell you, my
hearers, that this house has been built by that class of
Christians, who are called Unitarians, and that the Gospel will here be taught, as interpreted by that body of
believers.  This you all know; but perhaps all present
have not attached a very precise meaning to the word,
by which our particular views of Christianity are designated.  Unitarianism has been made a term of so much
reproach, and has been uttered in so many tones of
alarm, horror, indignation, and scorn, that to many it
gives only a vague impression of something monstrous,
impious, unutterably perilous.'To such, I would say,
that this doctrine, which is considered by some as the
last and most perfect invention of Satan, the consummation of his blasphemies, the most cunning weapon
ever forged in the fires of hell, amounts to this, - That
there is One God, even the Father; and that Jeslus
Christ is not this One God, but his son and messenger,
who derived all his powers and glories from the Universal Parent, and who came into the world not to claii a
supreme hornage for himself, but to carry up the soul
to his Father as the Only Divine Person, the Only Ultimate Object of religious worship.  To us, this doctrine
seems not to have sprung from hell, but to have descended from the throne of God, and to invite and
attract us thither.  To us it seems to come from  the
Scriptures, with a voice loud'as the sound of many
waters, and as articulate and clear as if Jesus, in a




166            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
bodily form, were pronouncing it distinctly in our ears.
To this doctrine, and to Christianity interpreted in consistency with it, we dedicate this building.
That we desire to propagate this doctrine, we do not
conceal.  It is a treasure, which we wish not to confine
to ourselves, which we dare not lock up in our own
breasts.  We regard it as given to us for others, as well
as for ourselves. We should rejoice to spread it through
this great city, to carry it into every dwelling, and to
send it far and wide to the remotest settlements of our
country. Am I asked, why we wish this diffusion?
We dare not say, that we are in no degree influenced
by sectarian feeling; for we see it raging around us, and
we should be more than men, were we wholly to escape
an epidemnic passion.  We do hope, however, that our
main purpose and aim is not sectarian, but to promote
a purer and nobler piety than now prevails.  We are
not induced to spread our opinions by the mere conviction that they are true; for there are many truths, historical, metaphysical, scientific, literary, which we have
no anxiety to propagate.  We regard them as the highest, most important, most efficient truths, and therefore
demanding a firm testimony, and earnest efforts to make
them  known.  In thus speaking, we do not mean, that
we regard our peculiar views as essential to salvation.
Far firom us be this spirit of exclusion, the very spirit
of antichrist, the worst of all the delusions of Popery
and of Protestantism.  We hold nothing to be essential,
but the simple and supreme dedication of the mind,
heart, and life to God and to his will.  T'his inward
and practical devotedness to the Supreme Being, we are
assured, is attained and accepted under all the forms of
Christianity. We believe, however, that it is favored




MOST AVORABLE'TO PIETY.           167
by that truth which we maintain, as by no other system
of faith.  We regard  Unitarianism  as peculiarly the
friend of inward, living, practical religion.  For this we
value it.  For this we would spread it; and we desire
none to embrace it, but such as shall seek and derive
from it this celestial influence.
This character and property of Unitarian Christianity, its fitness to promote true, deep, and living piety,
being our chief ground of attachment to it, and our
chief motive for dedicating this house to its inculcation,
I have thought proper to make this the topic of my
present discourse.  I do not propose to prove the truth
of Unitarianism  by Scriptural authorities, for this argument would exceed the limits of a sermon, but to show
its superior tendency to form  an elevated religious character.  If, however, this position can be sustained, I
shall have contributed no weak argument in support of
the truth of our views; for the chief purpose of Christianity undoubtedly is, to promote piety, to bring us to
God, to fill our souls with that Great Being, to make
us alive to him; and a religious system can carry no
more authentic mark of a divine original, than its obvious, direct, and peculiar adaptation to quicken and raise
the mind to its Creator. - In speaking thus of Unitarian
Christianity as promoting piety, I ought to observe, that
I use this word in its proper and highest sense.  I mean
not every thing which bears the name of piety, for under
this title superstition, fanaticism, and formality are walking abroad and claiming respect. I mean not an anxious
frame of mind, not abject and slavish fear, not a dread
of hell, not a repetition of forms, not church-going, not
loud profession, not severe censure of others' irreligion;
but filial love and reverence towards God, habitual grati



168            UNITARLIAN CHRISTIANITY
tude, cheerful trust, ready obedience, and, though last
not least, an imitation of the ever-active and unbounded
benevolence of the Creator.
The object of this discourse requires me to speak
with great freedom of different systems of religion. But
let me not be misunderstood.  Let not the uncharitableness, which I condemn, be lightly laid to my charge.
Let it be remembered, that I speak only of systems,
not of those who embrace them.  In setting forth with
all simplicity what seem to me the good or bad tendencies of doctrines, I have not a thought of giving stand.
ards or measures by which to estimate the virtue or vice
of their professors.  Nothing would be more unjust,
than to decide on men's characters from their peculiarities of faith; and. the reason is plain.  Such peculiarities are not the only causes which impress and determine
the mind. Our nature is exposed to innumerable other
influences. If indeed a man were to know nothing but
his creed, were to meet with no human beings but those
who adopt it, were to see no example and to hear no
conversation, but such as were formed by it; if his
creed were to meet him everywhere, and to exclude
every other object of thought; then his character might
be expected to answer to it with great precision.  But
our Creator has not shut us up in so narrow a school.
The mind is exposed to an infinite variety of influences,
and these are multiplying with the progress of society.
Education, friendship, neighbourhood, public opinion,
the state of society, " the genius of the place" where
we live, books, events, the pleasures and business of life,
the outward creation, our physical temperament, and innumerable other causes, are perpetually pouring in upon
the soul thoughts, views, and emotions; and these influ.




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          169
ences are so complicated, so peculiarly combined in the
ease of every individual, and so modified by the original
susceptibilities and constitution of every mind, that on
no subject is there greater uncertainty, than on the
formation of character.  To determine the precise operation of a religious opinion amidst this host of influences, surpasses human power.  A  great truth may
be completely neutralized by the countless impressions
and excitements, which the mind receives from other
sources; and so a great error may be disarmed of much
of its power, by the superior energy of other and better views, of early habits, and of virtuous examples.
Nothing is more common than to see a doctrine believed without swaying the will. Its efficacy depends,
not on the assent of the intellect, but on the place which
it occupies in the thoughts, on the distinctness and vividness with which it is conceived, on its association with
our common ideas, on its frequency of recurrence, and
on its command of the attention, without which it has
no life. Accordingly, pernicious opinions are not seldom held by men of the most illustrious virtue. I mean
not, then, in commending or condemning systems, to
pass sentence on their professors.  I know the power
of the mind to select from a multifarious system, for
its habitual use, those features or principles which are
generous, pure, and ennobling, and by these, to sustain
its spiritual life amidst the nominal profession of many
errors.  I know that a creed is one thing, as written
in a book, and another, as it exists in the minds of its
advocates.  In the book, all the doctrines appear in
equally strong and legible lines.  In the mind, many
are faintly traced and seldom recurred to, whilst others
are inscribed as with sunbeams, and are the chosen,
VOL-. II,             1.5




170            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
constant lights of the soul.  Hence, in good men of
opposing denominations, a real agreement may subsist
as to their vital principles of faith; and amidst the
division of tongues, there may be unity of soul, and the
same internal worship of God. By these remarks, I
do not mean that error is not evil, or that it bears no
pernicious fruit.  Its tendencies are always bad.  But
I mean, that these tendencies exert themselves amidst
so many counteracting influences; and that injurious
opinions so often lie dead, through the want of mixture
with the common thoughts, through the mind's not
absorbing them, and changing them into its own substance; that the highest respect may, and ought to
be cherished for men, in whose creed we find much to
disapprove.  In this discourse I shall speak freely, and
some may say severely, of Trinitarianism; but I love
and honor not a few of its advocates; and in opposing what I deem their error, I would on no account
detract from their worth.  After these remarks, I hope
that the language of earnest discussion and strong conviction will not be construed into the want of that
charity, which I acknowledge as the first grace of our
religion.
I now proceed to illustrate and prove the superiority
of Unitarian Christianity, as a means of promoting a
deep and noble piety.
I. Unitarianism is a system most favorable to piety,
because it presents to the mind One, and only one, Infinite Person, to whom supreme homage is to be paid.
It does not weaken the energy of religious sentiment
by dividing it among various objects.  It collects and
concentrates the soul on One Father of unbounded,
undivided, unrivalled glory.  To Him  it teaches the




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          171
mind to rise through all beings. Around Him it gathers
all the splendors of the universe.  To Him it teaches
us to ascribe whatever good we receive or behold, the
beauty and magnificence of nature, the liberal gifts of
Providence, the capacities of the soul, the bonds of
society, and especially the riches of grace and redemption, the mission, and powers, and beneficent influences
of Jesus Christ.  All happiness it traces up to the
Father, as the sole source; and the mind, which these
views have penetrated, through this intimate association
of every thing exciting and exalting in the universe with
One Infinite Parent, can and does offer itself up to
him with the intensest and profoundest love, of which
human nature is susceptible.  The Trinitarian indeed
professes to believe in one God, and means to hold
fast this truth. But three persons, having distinctive
qualities and relations, of whom one is sent and another
the sender, one is given and another the giver, of whom
one intercedes and another hears the intercession, of
whom one takes flesh and another never becomes incarnate, -three persons, thus discriminated, are as truly
three objects of the mind, as if they were acknowledged
to be separate divinities; and, from the principles of
our nature, they cannot act on the mind as deeply and
powerfully as one Infinite Person, to whose sole goodness all happiness is ascribed.  To multiply infinite
objects for the heart, is to distract it.  To scatter the
attention among three equal persons, is to impair the
power of each.  The more strict and absolute the
unity of God, the more easily and intimately all the
Impressions and emotions of piety flow together,' and
are condensed into one glowing thought, one thrilling
love. No language can express the absorbing energy




172            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
of the thought of one Infinite Father.  When vitally
implanted in the soul, it grows and gains strength for
ever. It enriches itself by every new view of God's
word and works; gathers tribute from all regions and
all ages; and attracts into itself all the rays of beauty,
glory, and joy, in the material and spiritual creation.
My hearers, as you would feel the full influence of
God upon your souls, guard sacredly, keep unobscured
and unsullied, that fundamental and glorious truth, that
there is One, and only One Almighty Agent in the
universe, one Infinite Father.  Let this truth dwell in
me in its uncorrupted simplicity, and I have the spring
and nutriment of an ever-growing piety.  I have an
object for my mind towards which all things bear me.
I[-know whither to go in all trial, whom to bless in all
joy, whom to adore in all I behold. But let three persons claim  from me supreme homage, and claim it on
different grounds, one for sending and another for coming to my relief, and I am divided, distracted, perplexed.
My frail intellect is overborne.  Instead of One Father,
on whose arm I can rest, my mind is torn from object
to object, and I tremble, lest among so many claimants
of supreme love, I should withhold from one or another
his due.
II. Unitarianism is the system most favorable to piety, because it holds forth and preserves inviolate the
spirituality of God.  I"God is a spirit, and they that
worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth."
It is of great importance to the progress and elevation
of the religious principle, that we should refine more
and more our conceptions of God; that we should separate from him all material properties, and whatever is
llmted or imperfect in our own nature; that we should




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           173
regard him as a' pure intelligence, an unmixed and infinite
Mind. When it pleased God to select the Jewish people and place themn under miraculous interpositions, one
of the first precepts given them was, that they should
not represent God under any bodily form, any graven
image, or the likeness of any creature.  Next came
Christianity, which had this as one of its great objects,
to render religion still more spiritual, by abolishing the
ceremonial and outward worship of former times, and
by discarding those grosser modes of describing God,
through which the ancient prophets had sought to impress
an unrefined people.
Now, Unitarianism  concurs with this sublime moral
purpose of God.  It asserts his spirituality.  It approaches him under no bodily form, but as a pure spirit,
as the infinite and the universal Mind.  On the other
hand, it is the direct influence of Trinitarianismn to materialize men's conceptions of God; and, in truth, this
system is a relapse into the error of the rudest and earliest ages, into the worship of a corporeal God.  Its
leading feature is, the doctrine of a God clothed with a
body, and acting and speaking through a material frame,
- of the Infinite Divinity dying on a cross; a doctrine,
which in earthliness reminds us of the mythology of the
rudest pagans, and which a pious Jew, in the twilight of
the Mosaic religion, would have shrunk from with horror.
It seems to me no small objection to the Trinity, that it
supposes God to take a body in the later and more improved ages of the world, when it is plain, that such a
manifestation, if needed at all, was peculiarly required
in the infancy of the race.  The effect of such a system
in debasing the idea of God, in associating with the
Divinity humnan passions and infirmities, is too obvious
15 




174           UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
to need much elucidation. On the supposition that the
second person of the Trinity became incarnate, God
may be said to be a material being, on-the same general
ground, on which this is affirmed of man; for man is
material only by the union of the mind with the body;
and the very meaning of incarnation is, that God took a
body, through which he acted and spoke, as the human
soul operates through its corporeal organs. Every bodily
affection may thus be ascribed to God. Accordingly
the Trinitarian, in his most solemn act of adoration, is
heard to pray in these appalling words: " Good Lord,
deliver us; by the mystery of thy holy incarnation, by
thy holy nativity and circumcision, by thy baptism, fasting, and temptation, by thine agony and bloody sweat,
by thy cross and passion, good Lord, deliver us." Now
I ask you to judge, from the principles of human nature,
whether to worshippers, who adore their God for his
wounds and tears, his agony, and blood, and sweat, the
ideas of corporeal existence and human suffering will
not predominate over the conceptions of a purely spiritual essence; whether the mind, in clinging to the man,
will not lose the God; whether a surer method for depressing and adulterating the pure thought of the Divinity
could have been devised.  That the Trinitarian is unconscious of this influence of his faith, I know, nor do
I charge it on him as a crime.  Still it exists, and cannot be too much deplored.
The Roman Catholics, true to human nature and
their creed, have sought, by painting and statuary, to
bring their imagined God before their eyes; and have
thus obtained almost as vivid impressions of him, as if
they had lived with him on the earth.  The Protestant
condemns them for using these similitudes and represen



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           175
tations in their worship; but, if a Trinitarian, he does so
to his own condemnation. For if, as he believes, it was
once a duty to bow in adoration before the living body
of his incarnate God, what possible guilt can there be in
worshipping before the pictured or sculptured memorial
of the same being? Christ's body may as truly be represented by the artist, as any other human form; and its
image may be used as effectually and properly, as that
of an ancient sage or hero, to recall him with vividness
to the mind.- Is it said, that God has expressly forbidden the use of images in our worship? But why was
that prohibition laid on the Jews?  For this express
reason, that God had not presented himself to them in
any form, which admitted of representation. Hear the
language of Moses:'" Take good heed lest ye make
you a graven image, for ye saw no manner of similitude
on the day that the Lord spake unto you in Horeb out
of the midst of the fire."'  If, since that period, God
has taken a body, then the reason of the prohibition has
ceased; and if he took a body, among other purposes,
that he might assist the weakness of the intellect, which
needs a material form, then a statue, which lends so
great an aid to the conception of an absent friend, is not
only justified, but seems to be required.
This materializing and embodying of the Supreme
Being, which is the essence of Trinitarianism, cannot
but be adverse to a growing and exalted piety.  Human
and divine properties, being confounded in one being,
lose their distinctness.  The splendors of the Godhead
are dimmed. The- worshippers of an incarnate Deity,
through the frailty of their nature, are strongly tempted
* Deut. iv. 15, 16. — The arrangement of the text is a little changed. to
put the reader immediately in possession of the meaning.




. X  UNtTARtAN CRISRTlANT1
to fasten chiefly on his human attributes; and their d-evc
tion, instead of rising to the Infinite God, and taking the
peculiar character which infinity inspires, becomes rather
a human affection, borrowing much of its fervor from the
ideas of suffering, blood, and death.  It is indeed possible, that this God-man (to use the strange phraseology
of Trinitarians) may excite the mind more easily, than a
purely spiritual divinity; just as a tragedy, addressed to
the eye and ear, will interest the multitude more than the
contemplation of the most exalted character.  But the
emotions, which are the most easily roused, are not the
profoundest o-r most enduring.  This human love, inspired by a human God, though at first more fervid,
cannot grow and spread through the soull, like the reverential attachment, which an infinite, spiritual Father
awakens-.  Refined conceptions of God, though more
slowly attained, have a more quickening and all-pervading
energy, and admit of perpetual accessions of brightness,
life, and strength.
True, we shall be told, that Trinitarianism has corEverted only one of its three persons into a human Deity,
and that the other two remain purely spiritual beings.
But who does not know, that man will attach himself
most strongly to the God who has become a man? Is
not this even a duty, if the Divinity has taken a body to
place himself within the reach of human comprehension
and sympathy?  That the Trinitarian's views of the
Divinity will be colored more by his visible, tangible,
corporeal God, than by those persons of the Trinity,
who remain comparatively hidden in their invisible and
spiritual essence, is so accordant with the principles of
our nature, as to need no labored proof.
My friends, hold fast the doctrine of a purely spliritll




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.             177
Divinity. It is one of the great supports and instruments
of a vital piety.  It brings God near, as no other doctrine can.  One of the leading purposes of Christianity
is, to give us an ever-growing sense of God's immediate
presence, a consciousness of him  in our souls.  Now,
just as far as corporeal or limited attributes enter into
our conception of him, we remove him  from  us.  He
becomes an outward, distant being, instead of being
viewed and felt as dwelling in the soul itself.  It is an
i-lnspeakable benefit of the doctrine of a purely spiritual
God, that he can be regarded as inhabiting, filling our
spiritual nature; and, through this union with our minds,
ihe can and does beconme the object of an intimacy and
friendship, such as no embodied being can call forth.
III. Unitarianism  is the system  most favorable to
piety, because it presents a distinct and intelligible object
of worship, a being, whose nature, whilst inexpressibly
sublime, is yet simple and suited to human apprehension.
An infinite Father is the most exalted of all conceptions,
and yet the least perplexing.  It involves no incongruous ideas.  It is illustrated by analogies from our own
nature.  It coincides with that funrdamental law of the
intellect, through which we demand a cause proportioned
to effects.  It is also as interesting as it is rational; so
that it is peculiarly congenial with the improved mind.
The sublime simplicity of God, as he is taught in Unitarianism, by relieving the understanding friom perplexity,
and by placing him within the reach of thought and affection, gives him peculiar power over the soul.  Trinitarianism, onl the other hand, is a riddle.  Men call it a
mystery; but it is mysterious, not like the great truths
of religion, t3y its vastness and grandeur, but by the
irrecoincilable ideas whbich it involves.  One God, con



1 79           UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
sisting of three persons or agents, is so strange a being,
so unlike our own minds, and all others with which we
hold intercourse, is so misty, so incongruous, so contradictory, that he cannot be apprehended with that distinctness and that feeling of reality, which belong to the:
opposite system.  Such a heterogeneous being, who is:
at the samne mroment one add many; who includes in his
own nature the relations of Father and Sonl, or, in other
words, is Father antd Son to himself; who, in one of
his persons, is at the same moment the Supreme God
and a mortal, man, omniscient and ignorant, almighty and
impotent; such a being is certainly the most puzzling
and distracting object ever presented to human thought.
Trinitarianism, instead of teaching an, intelligible God,.
offers to the mind a strange compound of hostile attributes, bearing plain marks of those ages of darkness,
when Christianity shed but a fainit ray, and the diseased
fancy teemed with prodigies and unnatural creations. Iir
contemplating a being, who presents such different and
inconsistent aspects, the mind finds nothing to rest upon,
and, instead of receiving distinct and harmonious impressions, is disturbed by shifting, unsettled images..
To commune with such a being must be as hard, as to
converse with a man of three different countenances?
speaking with three d~ifferent tongues.  The believer in:
this system  must forget it, when he prays, or he could
find no repose in devotion.  Who can compare it, iIr
distinctness, reality, and power, with the simple doctrine:
of One Infinite- Father?
IV. Unitarianism  promotes a fervent and enlightened
piety, by asserting the absolute and unbounded perfection of God's character.  This is the highest service
which can be rendered to mankind.  J st and generous




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY             179
conceptions of the Divinity are the soul's true wealth.
To spread these is to contribute more effectually, than
by any other agency, to the progress and happiness of
the intelligent creation.  To obscure God's glory is
to do greater wrong, than to blot out the sun.  The
character and influence of a religion must answer to
the views which it gives of the Divinity; and there is
a plain tendency in that system, which manifests the
divine perfections most resplendently, to awaken the
sublimest and most blessed piety.
Now, Trinitarianism has a fatal tendency to degrade
the character of the Supreme Being, though its advocates, I am sure, intend no such wrong.  By multiplying divine persons, it takes from  each the glory of
independent, all-sufficient, absolute perfection.   This
may be shown in various particulars.  And in the first
place, the very idea, that three persons in the Divinity
are in any degree important, implies and involves the
imperfection of each; for it is plain, that if one divine
person possesses all possible power, wisdom, love, and
happiness, nothing will be gained to himself or to the
creation by joining with him two, or two hundred other
persons.  To say that he needs others for any purpose
or in any degree, is to strip him of independent and allsufficient majesty.  If our Father in heaven, the God
and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is not of himself
sufficient to all the wants of his creation; if, by his
union with other persons, he can accomplish any good
to which he is not of himself equal; or if he thus acquires a claim to the least degree of trust or hope, to
which he is not of himself entitled by his own independent attributes; then it is plain, he is not a being of
infinite and absolute perfection.  Now  Trinitarianism




180             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
teaches, that the highest good accrues to the human
race from  the existence of three divine persons, sustaining different offices and relations to the world; and
it regards the Unitarian, as subverting the foundation
of human hope, by asserting that the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus is alone and singly God.  Thus it
derogates from his infinite glory.
In the next place, Trinitarianism degrades the character of the Supreme Being, by laying its disciples
under the necessity of making such a distribution of
offices and relations among the three persons, as will
serve to designate and distinguish them; for in this way
it interferes with the sublime conceptions of One Infinite Person, in whom all glories are concentred.  If we
are required to worship three persons, we must view
them in different lights, or they will be mere repetitions
of each other, mere names and sounds, presenting no
objects, conveying no meaning to the mind.   Some
appropriate character, some peculiar acts, feelings, and
relations'must be ascribed to each.  In other words,
the glory of all must be shorn, that some special distinguishing lustre may be thrown on each.  Accordingly, creation is associated peculiarly with the conception of the Father; satisfaction for human guilt with
that of the Son; whilst sanctification) the noblest woirk
of all, is given to the Holy Spirit as his more particllar work. By a still more fatal distribution, the work
of justice, the office of vindicating the rights of the
Divinity, falls peculiarly to the Father, whilst the loveliness of interposing mercy clothes peculiarly the person
of the Son. By this unhappy influence of Trinitarian.
ism, from which common minds at least cannot escape,
the splendors of the Godhead, being scattered among




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          181
bhree objects, instead of being united in One Infinite
Father, are dimmed; and he, whose mind is thoroughly
and practically possessed by this system, can hardly
conceive the effulgence of glory in which the One God
offers himself to a pious believer in his strict unity.
But the worst has not been told.  I' observe, then,
in the third place, that if Three Divine Persons are
believed in, such an administration or government of
the world must be ascribed to them, as will furnish
them with a sphere of operation.  No man will admit
three persons into his creed, without finding a use for
them.  Now it is an obvious remark, that a system  of
the universe, which involves and demands more than
one Infinite Agent, must be wild, extravagant, and unworthy the perfect God; because there is no possible
or conceivable good, to which such an Agent is not
adequate.  Accordingly we find Trinitarianism connecting itself with a scheme of administration, exceedingly
derogatory to the Divine character.  It teaches, that
the Infinite Father saw fit to put into the hands of our
first parents the character and condition of their whole
progeny; and that, through one act of disobedience,
the whole race bring with them  into being a corrupt
nature, or are born depraved.   It teaches, that the
offences of a short life, though begun and spent under
this disastrous inlfluence, merit endless punishment, and
that God's law threatens this infinite penalty; and that
man is thus burdened with a guilt, which no sufferint
of the created universe can expiate, which nothing but
the sufierings of an Infinite Being can purge away.
In this condition of' human nature, Trinitarianism finds
a sphere' of action for its different persons.  I am aware
that some Trinitarians, on hearing this statement of their
VOL. Il.               16




182            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
system, may reproach me with ascribing to them the
errors of Calvinism, a system which they abhor as much
as ourselves.  But none of the peculiarities of Calvinism  enter into this exposition.  I have given what I
understand to be the leading features of Trinitarianism
all the world over; and the benevolent professors of
that faith, who recoil from  this statement, must -blame
not the preacher, but the creeds and establishments by
which these doctrines are diffused.  For ourselves, we
look with horror and grief on the views' of God's government, which are naturally and intimately united with
Trinitarianism.  They take from us our Father in heaven, and substitute a stern and unjust lord.  Our filial
love and reverence rise up against them.  We say to
the Trinitarian, touch any thing but the perfections of
God.  Cast no stain on that spotless purity and loveliness. We can endure any errors but those, which
subvert or unsettle the conviction of God's paternal
goodness.  Urge not upon us a system, which makes
existence a curse, and wraps the universe in gloom.
Leave us the cheerful light, the free and healthful atmosphere, of a liberal and rational faith; the ennobling
and consoling influences of the doctrine, which nature
and revelation in blessed concord teach us, of One
Father of unbounded and inexhaustible love.
V. Unitarianism is peculiarly favorable to piety, because it accords with nature, with the world around and
the world within us; and through this accordance it
gives aid to nature, and receives aid from it, in impressing the mind with God. We live in the midst of a
glorious universe, which was meant to be a witnrss and
a preacher of the Divinity; and a revelation from God
may be expected to be in harmony with this system,




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          183
and to carry on a common ministry with it in lifting the
soul to God. Now,'Unitarianism is in accordance with
nature.  It teaches One Father, and so does creation,
the more it is explored. Philosophy, in proportion as
it extends its views of the universe, sees in it, more
and more, a sublime and beautiful unity, and multiplies
proofs, that all things have sprung from one intelligence,
one power, one love.  The whole outward creation
proclaims to thie Unitarian the truth in which he delights.
So does his own soul.  But neither nature nor the soul
bears one trace of Three Divine Persons. Nature is no
Trinitarian.  It gives not a hint, not a glimpse of a tripersonal author.  Trinitarianism is a confined system,
shut up in a few texts, a few written lines, where many
of the wisest minds have failed to discover it.  It is
not inscribed on the heavens and the earth, not borne
on every wind, not resounding and reechoing through
the unlverse.  The sun and stars say nothing of a God
of three persons.  They all speak of the One Father
whom we adore.  To outr ears, one and the same voice
comes from  God's word and works, a full and swelling
strain, growing clearer, louder, more thrilling as we
listen, and with one blessed influence lifting up our souls
to the Almighty Father.
This accordance between nature and revelation increases the power of both oxer the mind.  Concurring
as they do in one impression, they make that impression deeper.  To men of reflection, the conviction of
the reality of religion is exceedingly heightened, by a
perception of harmony in the views of it which they
derive from various sources.  Revelation is never received with so intimate a persuasion of its truth, as
when it is seen to conspire to the same ends and i:t



l84            UNITARIAN CIMISTIANITY
pressions, for which all other things are made.  It it
no small objection to Trinitarianism, that it is an insulated doctrine, that it reveals a God whom we meet
nowhere in the universe.  Three Divine Persons, I repeat it, are found only in a few texts, and those so dark,
that the gifted minds of Milton, Newton, and Locke,
could not find them  there.  Nature gives them  not a
whisper of evidence.  And can they be as real and
powerful to the mind, as that One Father, whom the
general strain and common voice of Scripture, and the
universal voice of nature call us to adore?
VI. Unitarianism  favors piety by opening the mind
to new and ever-enlarging views of God.  Teaching, as
it does, the same God with nature, it leads us to seek
him in nature.  It does not shut us up in the written
word, precious as that manifestation of the Divinity is.
It considers revelation, not as independent of his other
means of instruction; not as a separate agent; but asa part of the great system  of God for enlightening and
elevating the human soul; as intimately joined with
creation and providence, and intended to concur with
them; and as given to assist us in reading the volume
of the universe.  -Thus Unitarianism, where its genuine
influence is experienced, tends to enrich and fertilize
the mind; opens it to new lights, wherever they spring
up; and, by combining, makes more efcient, the means
of religious knowledge.  Trinitarianism, on the other
hand, is a system which tends to confine the mind; to
shut it up in what is written; to diminish its interest
in the universe' and to disincline it to bright and
enlarged views of God's works. -  This effect will be
explained, in the first place, if' we consider, that the
peculiarities of Trinitaria..isnm  differ so much from: the




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          1i85
teachings of the universe, that he who attaches himself to the one, will be in danger of losing his interest
ia the other.  The ideas of Three Divine Persons, of
God clothing himself in flesh, of the infinite Creator
saving the guilty by transferring their punishment to
an innocent being-, these ideas cannot easily be made
to coalesce in the mind with that which nature gives,
of One Almighty Father and Unbounded Spirit, whom
no worlds can contain, and whose vicegerent in the
human breast pronounces it a crime, to lay the penalties of vice on the pure and unoffending.
But Trinitarianism  has a still more positive influence
in shutting the mind against improving views from the
universe.  It tends to throw gloom  over God's works.
Imagining that Christ is to be exalted, by giving him
an exclusive agency in enlightening and recovering mankind, it is tempted to disparage other lights and influences; and, for the purpose of magnifying his salvation,
it inclines to exaggerate the darkness and desperateness
of man's present condition.  The mind thus impressed,
naturally leans to those views of nature and of society,
which will strengthen the ideas of desolation and guilt.
It is tempted to aggravate the miseries of life, and to
see in them  only the marks of divine displeasure and
punishing justice; and overlooks their obvious fitness
and design to awaken our powers, exercise our virtues,
and strengthen our social ties.  In like manner, it exaggerates the sins of men, that the need of an Infinite
atonement may be maintained.  Sonme of the most affecting tokens of God's love within and around us are
obscured by this gloomy theology.  The glorious faculties of the, soul, its high aspirations, its sensibility to
the great and good in clharacter, its sympathy with dis6 *




186             UNITARIAN CHIRfSTIANIrY
interested and suffering virtue, its benevolent and re-.gious instincts, its thirst for a happiness not found on
earth, these are overlooked or thrown into the shades
that they may not disturb the persuasion of man's natural corruption.   Ingenuity is employed to disparage:
what is interesting in the human- character.  Whilst the
bursts  of passion in the newborn  child are gravely
urged as indications of a native, rooted corruption.,; its
bursts of affection, its sweet smile, its innocent and:
irrepressible joy, its loveliness and beauty, are not listened to, though they plead more eloquently its alliance
with higher natures.  The sacred and tender affections
of home; the unwearied watchings and cheerful sacrifices of parents; the reverential, grateful assiduity of
children, smoothing an aged father's or mother's descent
to the grave;, woman's love, stronger than death;. the
friendship of brothers and sisters; the anxious affection, which tends around the bed of sickness; the subdued voice, which breathes comfort into the mourner'sheart; all the endearing offices, which shed a serene
light through our dwellings; these are explained away
by the thorough advocates of this system, so as to include no real virtue, so as to consist with a natural
aversion to goodness.  Even the higher efforts of disinterested benevolence, and the most unaffected expressions of piety, if not connected with what is called
" the true faith,  are, by the most rigid disciples of the
doctrine which I oppose, resolved into the passion for
distinction, or some other working of " unsanctified nature. "  Thus, Trinitarianism  and its kindred doctrines
have a tendency to veil God's goodness, to sully his
fairest works, to dimn the lustre of those innocent and
pure affections, which a divine' breath kindles in the




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           187
soul, to blight the beauty and freshness of creation, and
in this way to consume the very nutriment of piety.
We know, and rejoice to know, that in multitudes this
tendency is counteracted by a cheerful temperament, a
benevolent nature, and a strength of gratitude, which
bursts the shackles of a melancholy system.  But from
the nature of the doctrine, the tendency exists and is
strong; and an impartial observer will often discern it
resulting in gloomy, depressing views of life and the
universe.
Trinitarianism, by thus tending to exclude bright
and enlarged views of the creation, seems to me not
only to chill the heart, but to injure the understanding,
as far as moral and religious truth is concerned.  It
does not send the mind far and wide for new and elevating objects; and we have here one explanation of
the barrenness and feebleness, by which  theological
writings are so generally marked.  It is not wonderful,
that the prevalent theology should want vitality and enlargement of thought, for it does not accord with the
perfections of God and the spirit of the universe.  It
has not its root in eternal truth; but is a narrow, technical, artificial system, the fabrication of unrefined ages,
and consequently incapable of being blended with the
new lights which are spreading over the most interesting subjects, and of being incorporated with the results
and anticipations of original and progressive minds.  It
stands apart in the mind, instead of seizing upon new
truths, and converting them  into its own nutriment.
With few exceptions, the Trinitarian theology of the
present day is greatly deficient in freshness of thought,
and in power to awaken the interest and to meet the
intellectual and spiritual wants of thinking men.  I see




l88            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
indeed superior minds and great minds among the adz
herents of the prevalent system; but they seem to me
to move in chains, and to fulfil poorly their high function of adding to the wealth of the human intellect.  In
theological discussion, they remind me more of Samson
grinding in the narrow mill of the Philistines, than of
that undaunted champion achieving victories for God's
people, and enlarging the bounds of their inheritance.
Now, a system which has a tendency to confine the
mind, and to impair its sensibility to the manifestations
of God in the universe, is so far unfriendly to piety, to
a bright, joyous, hopeful, evergrowing love of the Creator. It tends to generate and nourish a religion of a
melancholy tone, such, I apprehend, as now predominates in the Christian world.
VII. Unitarianism promotes piety, by the high place
which it assigns to pibty in the character and work of
Jesus Christ. What is it which the Unitarian regards
as the chief glory of the character of Christ? I answer, his filial devotion, the entireness with which he
surrendered himself to the will and benevolent purposes
of God. The piety of Jesus, which, on the supposition
of his Supreme Divinity, is a subordinate and incongruous, is, to us, his prominent and crowning, attribute.
We place his "' oneness with God," not in an unintelligible unity of essence, but in unity of mind and heart,
in the strength of his love, through which he renounced
every separate interest, and identified himself with his
Father's designs.  In other-words, filial piety, the consecration of his whole being to the benevolent will of
his Father, this is the mild glory in which he always
offers himself to our minds; and, of consequence, all
our sympathies with himn, all our love and veneration




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          189
towards him, are so many forms of delight in a pious
character, and our whole knowledge of him incites us
to a like surrender of our whole nature and existence
to God.
In the next place, Unitarianism teaches, that the
highest work or office of Christ is, to call forth and
strengthen piety in the human breast; and thus it sets
before us this character as the chief acquisition and end
of our being.  To us, the great glory of Christ's mission consists in the power with which he "1 reveals the
Father," and establishes the " kingdom or reign of God
within" the soul.  By the crown which he wears, we
understand the eminence which lie enjoys in the most
beneficent work in the universe, that of bringing back
the lost mind to the knowledge, love, and likeness of its
Creator.  With these views of Christ's office, nothing
can seem to us so important as an enlightened and profound piety, and we are quickened to seek it, as the
perfection and happiness to which nature and redemption jointly summon us.
Now we maintain, that Trinitarianism obscures and
weakens these views of Christ's character and work;
and this it does, by insisting perpetually on others of
an incongruous, discordant nature.  It diminishes the
power of his piety.  Making him, as it does, the Supreme Being, and placing him as an equal on his Father's throne, it turns the mind from him as the meekest
worshipper of God;. throws into the shade, as of very
inferior worth, his self-denying obedience; and gives
us other grounds for revering him, than his entire homage, his fervent love, his cheerful self-sacrifice to the
Universal Parent.  There is a plain incongriity in the
belief of his Supreme Godhead with the ideas of filial




190            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
piety and exemplary devotion. The mind, which has
been taught to regard him as of equal majesty and
authority with the Father, cannot easily feel the power
of his character as the affectionate son, whose meat it
was to do his Father's will.  The mind, accustomed to
mnake him the ultimate object of worship, cannot easily
recognise in him the pattern of that worship, the guide
to the Most High.  The characters are incongruous,
and their union perplexing, so that neither exerts its full
energy on the imind.
Trinitarianism also exhibits the work as well as character of Christ, in lights less favorable to piety.  It does
not make the promotion of piety his chief end.  It
teaches, that the highest purpose of his mission was
to reconcile God to man, not man to God.  It teaches,
that the most formidable obstacle to human happiness
lies in the claims and threatenings of divine justice.
Hence, it leads men to prize Christ more for answering
these claims and averting these threatenings, than for
awakening in the human soul sentiments of love towards
its Father in heaven.  Accordingly, multitudes seem
to prize pardon more than piety, and think it a greater
boon to escape, through Christ's sufferings, the fire of
hell, than to receive,' through his influence, the spirit
of heaven, the spirit of devotion.  Is such a system
propitious to a generous and ever-growing piety?
If I may be allowed a short digression, I would conclude this head with the general observation, that we
deem our views of Jesus Christ more interesting than
those of Trinitarianism.  We feel that we should lose
much, by exchanging the distinct character and mild
radiance with which he offers himself to our minds, for
the confused and irreconcilable glories wiith which that




.MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          191
system labors to invest him.  According to Unitarianism, he is a being who may be understood, for he is
one mind, one conscious nature. According to the opposite faith, he is an inconceivable compound of two
most dissimilar minds, joining in one person a finite
and infinite nature, a soul weak and ignorant, and a
soul almighty and omniscient. And is such a being a
proper object for human thought and affection?-I add,
as another important consideration, that to us Jesus,
instead of being the second of three obscure unintelligible persons, is first and preeminent in the sphere
in which he acts, and is thus the object of a distinct
attachment, which he shares'with no equals or rivals.
To us, he is first of the sons of God, the Son by peculiar nearness and likeness to the Father.  He is first
of all the ministers of God's mercy and beneficence,
and through him the largest stream of bounty flows to
the creation.  PHe is first in God's favor and love, the
most accepted of worshippers, the most prevalent of
intercessors.  In this mighty universe, framed to be a
mirror of its Author, we turn to Jesus as the brightest
image of God, and gratefully yield him a place in our
souls, second only to the Infinite Father, to whom  he
himself directs our supreme affection.
VIII. I now proceed to a great topic. Unitarianism
promotes piety, by meeting the wants of man as a sinner.  The wants of the sinner may be expressed almost
in one word.  He wants assurances of mercy in his
Creator.  He wants pledges, that God is Love in its
purest form, that is, that He has a goodness so disinterested, free, full, strong, and immutable, that the
ingratitude and disobedience of his creatures cannot
overcome it. This unconquerable love, which in Scrip



1 92           UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
ture's denominated grace, and which waits not for
merit to call it forth, but flows out to the most guilty,
is the sinner's only hope, and it is fitted to call forth
the most devoted gratitude.  Now, this grace or mercy
of God, which seeks the lost, and receives and blesses
the returning child, is proclaimed by that faith which
we advocate, with a clearness and energy, which cannot
be surpassed.  Unitarianism will not listen for a moment to the common errors, by which this bright attribute is obscured.  It wTill not hear of a vindictive wrath
in God, which must be quenched by blood; or of a justice, which binds his mercy with an iron chain, until its
demands are satisfied to the full.  It will not hqar that
God needs any foreign influence to awaken his mercy;
but teaches, that the yearnings of the tenderest human
parent towards a lost child, are but a faint image of
God's deep and overflowing compassion towards erring
man.  This essential and unchangeable propensity of
the Divine Mind to forgiveness, the Unitarian beholds
shining forth through the whole Word of God, and
especially in the mission and revelation of Jesus Christ,
who lived and died to make manifest the inexhaustible
plenitude of divine grace; and, aided by revelation,
he sees this attribute of God everywhere, both around
him and within him. He sees it in the sun which shines,
and the rain which descends on the evil and unthankful;
in the peace, which returns to the mind in proportion
to its return to God and duty; in the sentiment of cornm
passion, which springs up spontaneously in the human
breast towards the fallen and lost; and in the moral inatinct, which teaches us to cherish this compassion as
a sacred principle, as an emanation of God's infinite
love.  In truth, Unitarianism  asserts so strongly the




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          193
mercy of God, that the reproach thrown upon. it is, that
it takes from the sinner the dread of punishment, -- a
reproach wholly without foundation; for our system
teaches that God's mercy is not an instinctive tenderness, which cannot inflict pain; but an all-wise love,
which desires the true and lasting good of its object,
and consequently desires first for the sinner that restoration to purity, without which, shame, and suffering, and
exile from  God and heaven are of necessity and unalterably his doom. Thus Unitarianism holds forth God's
grace and forgiving goodness most resplendently; and,
by this manifestation of him, it tends to awaken a
tender and confiding piety; an ingenuous love, which
mourns that it has offended; an ingenuous aversion- to
sin, not because sin brings punishment, but because it
separates tlhe mind from this merciful Father.
Now  we object to Trinitarianism, that itobscures
the mercy of God.  It does so in various ways.  We
have already seen, that it gives such views of God's
government, that we can hardly conceive of this attribute as entering into his character.  Mercy to the sinner is the principle of love or benevolence in its highest form; and surely this cannot be expected from a
being who brings us into existence burdened with hereditary guilt, and who threatens with endless punishment and woe the heirs of so frail and feeble a nature.
With such a Creator, the idea of mercy cannot coalesce; and I will say more, that, under such a government, man would need nomercy; for he would owe no
allegiance to such a maker, and could not of course
contract the guilt of violating it; and, without guilt, no
grace or pardon would be wanted.  The severity of this
system  would place him on the gr0ound of an injured
VOL. III.             I?




194             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
being.  The wrong would lie on the side of theCreator.
In the next place, Trinitarianism  obscures God's
mercy, by the manner in which it supposes pardon to
be communicated. It teaches, that God remits the punishment of the offender, in consequence of receiving an
equivalent from an innocent person; that the sufferings
of the sinner are removed by a full satisfaction made
to divine justice, in the sufferings of a substitute.  And
is this "I the quality of mercy "? What means forgiveness, but the reception of the returning child through
the strength of parental love?  This doctrine invests
the Saviour with a claim of merit, with a right to the
remission of the sins of his followers; and represents
God's reception of the penitent as a recompense due
to the worth of his Son. And is mercy, which means
free and undeserved love, made more manifest, more
resplendent, by the introduction of merit and right as
the ground of our salvation? Could a surer expedient
be invented for obscuring its freeness, and for turning
the sinner's gratitude from the sovereign who demands,
to the sufferer who offers, full satisfaction for his guilt?
I know it is said, that Trinitarianlism magnifies God's
mercy, because it teaches, that he himself provided the
substitute for the guilty.  But I reply, that the work
here ascribed to mercy is not the most appropriate, nor
most fitted to manifest it and impress it on the heart.
This may be made apparent by familiar illustrations.
Suppose that a creditor, through compassion to certain
debtors, should persuade a benevolent and opulent man
to pay him in their stead.  Would not the debtors see
a greater mercy, and feel a weightier obligation, if they
were to receive a free, gratuitous release?  And will




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           195
not their chief gratitude stray beyond the creditor to
the benevolent substitute? Or, suppose that a parent,
unwilling to inflict a penalty on a disobedient but feeble child, should persuade a stronger child to bear it.
Would not the offender see a more touching mercy in a
free forgiveness, springing immediately from a parent's
heart, than in this circuitous remission? And will he
not be tempted to turn with his strongest love to the
generous sufferer? In this process of substitution, of
which Trinitarianism boasts so loudly, the mercy of
God becomes complicated with the rights and merits
of the substitute, and is a more distant cause of our
salvation. These rights and merits are nearer, more
visible, and more than divide the glory with grace and
mercy in our rescue. They turn the mind from Divine
Goodness, as the only spring of its happiness, and only
rock of its hope. Now this is to deprive piety of one
of its chief means of growth and joy. Nothing should
stand between the soul and God's mercy. Nothing
should share with mercy the work of our salvation.
Christ's intercession should ever be regarded as an application to love and mercy, not as a demand of justice,
not as a claim of merit.  I grieve to say, that Christ,
as now viewed by multitudes, hides the lustre of that
very attribute which it is his great purpose to display.
I fear, that, to many, Jesus wears the glory of a more
winning, tender mercy, than his Father, and that he is
regarded as the sinner's chief resource.  Is this the
way to invigorate piety?
Trinitarians imagine, that there is one view of their
system  peculiarly fitted to give peace and hope to the
sinner, and consequently to promote gratitude and love.
It is this. They say, it provides an Infinite substitute




196             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
for the sinner, than which nothing can give greater re.
lief to the burdened conscience.  Jesus, being the second person of the Trinity, was able to make infinite
satisfaction for sin; and what, they ask, in Unitarianism, can compare with this? I have time only for two
brief replies.  And first, this doctrine of an Infinite
satisfaction, or, as it is improperly called, of an Infinite
atonement, subverts, instead of building up, hope; because it argues infinite severity in the government which
requires it.  Did I believe, what Trinitarianism  teaches, that not the least transgression, not even the first
sin of the dawning mind of the child, could be remitted
without an infinite expiation, I should feel myself living under a legislation unspeakably dreadful, under laws
written, like Draco's, in blood; and, instead of thanking the Sovereign for providing an infinite substitute, I
should shudder at the attributes which render this expedient necessary.  It is commonly said, that an infinite
atonement is needed to make due and deep impressions
of the evil of sin.  But He who framed all souls, and
gave them their susceptibilities, ought not to be thought
so wanting in goodness and wisdom, as to have constituted a universe, which demands so dreadful and degrading a method of enforcing obedience, as the penal
sufferings of a God.  This doctrine, of an Infinite substitute suffering the penalty of sin, to manifest God's
wrath against sin, and thus to support his government,
is, I fear, so familiar to us all, that its severe character
s overlooked.  Let me, then, set it before you, in new
terms, and by a new  illustration; and if, in so doing, I
may wound the feelings of some who hear me, I beg
them to believe, that I do -it with pain, and from no
impulse but a desire to serve the cause of truth.



iMiOS-T FAVORABLE TO PIETY.       197
Suppose, then, that a teacher should come among you,
and should tell you, that the Creator, in order to pardon his own children, had erected a gallows in the centre of the universe, and had publicly executed upon it,
in room of the offenders, an Infinite Being, the partaker
of his own Supreme Divinity; suppose him to declare,
that this execution was appointed, as a most conspicu
ous and terrible manifestation of God's justice, and of
the infinite woe denounced by his law; and suppose
him to add, that all beings in heaven and earth are required to fix their eyes on this fearful sight, as the most
powerful enforcement of obedience and virtue. Would
you not tell him, that he calumniated  his Maker?
Would you not say to him, that this central gallows
threw gloom over the universe; that the spirit of a government, whose very acts of pardon were written in
such blood, was terror, not paternal love; and that the
obedience which needed to be upheld by this horrid
spectacle, was nothing worth?  Would you not say to
him, that even you, in this infancy and imperfection
of your being, were capable of being wrought upon by
nobler motives, and of hating sin through more generous views; and that much more the angels, those pure
flames of love, need not the gallows and an executed
God to confirm their loyalty? You would all so feel,
at such teacling as I have supposed; and yet how does
this differ from the popular doctrine of atonement?
According to this doctrine, we have an Infinite Being
sentenced to suffer, as a substitute, the death of the
cross, a punishment more ignominious and agonizing
than the gallows, a punishment reserved for slaves and
the vilest malefactors; and he suffers this punishment,
that he may show forth the terrors of God's law, and
17*




198            UNITARIAN CHIRISTIANITY
strike a dread of sin through the universe. -  I am in&
deed aware, that multitudes, who profess this doctrine,
are not accustomed to bring it to their minds distinctly
in this light; that they do not ordinarily regard the
death of Christ as a criminal execution, as an infinitely
dreadful infliction of justice, as intended to show, that;
without an infinite satisfaction, they must hope nothing
from  God.  Their minds turn, by a generous instinct,
from these appalling views, to the love, the disinterestedne~ss, the moral grandeur and beauty of the sufferer;
and through such thoughts they make the cross a source
of peace, gratitude, love, and hope; thus affording a
delightful exemplificationi of the power of the human
mind, to attach itself to what is good and purifying in
the most irrational system.  Not a few may shudder
at the illustration which I have here given; but in what
respects it is unjust to the popular doctrine of atonemnent, I cannot discern.  I grieve to shock sincere
Christians, of whatever name; but I grieve more for
the corruption of our common faith, which I have now
felt myself bound to expose.
I have a second objection to this doctrine of Infinite
atonement.  When examined minutely, and freed from
ambiguous language, it vanishes into air.  It is wholly
delusion.  The Trinitarian tells me, that, according
to' his system, we have an infinite substitute; that the
Infinite God was pleased to bear our punishment, and
consequently, that pardon is made sure.  But I ask
him, Do T understand you?  Do you mean, that the
Great God, who never changes, whose happiness is the
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, that this Eternal
Being really bore the penalty of nmy sins, really sufflered
and died? Every pious man, when pressed by this




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          199
question, answers, No.  What, then, does the doctrine
of Infinite atonement mean? Why, this; that God took
into union with himself our nature, that is, a human
body and soul; and these bore the suffering for our sins;
and, through his union with these, God may be said to
have borne it himself.  Thus, this vaunted system  goes
out, —in words.  The Infinite victim proves to be frail
man, and God's share in the sacrifice is a mere fiction.
I ask with solemnity, Can this doctrine give one moment's ease to the conscience of an unbiassed, thinking
man? Does it not unsettle all hope, by making the
whole religion suspicious and unsure?  I am compelled
to say, that I see in it no impression of majesty, or wisdom, or love, nothing worthy of a God; and when I
compare it with that nobler faith, which directs our eyes
and hearts to God's essential niercy, as our only hope, I
am amazed that any should ascribe to it superior efficacy, as a religion for sinners, as a means of filling the
soul with pious trust and love.  I know, indeed, that
some will say, that, in giving up an infinite atonement, I
deprive myself of all hope of divine favor.  To such,
I would say, You do wrong to God's mercy. On that
mercy I cast myself without a fear.  I indeed desire
Christ to intercede for me.  T regard his relation to me
cas God's kindest appointment.  Through him, "' grace
and truth come "' to me from Heaven, and I look forward to his friendship, as among the highest blessings
of my whole future being.  But I cannot, and dare not
ask him, to offer an infinite satisfaction for my sins; to
appease the wrath of God; to reconcile the Universal
Father to his own offspring; to open to me those arms
of Divine mercy, which have encircled and borne me
from the first moment of my being.  The essential and




200            UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY~
unbounded mercy of my Creator, is the foundation of
my hope, and a broader and surer the universe cannot
give me.
IX. I now proceed to the last consideration, which
the limits of this discourse will permit me to urge.  It
has been more than once suggested, but deserves to be
distinctly stated.  I observe, then, that Unitarianism
promotes piety, because it is a rational religion.  By
this, I do not mean that its truths can be fully comprehended; for there is not an object in nature or religion,
which has not innumerable connexions and relations beyond our grasp of thought.  I mean, that its doctrines'
are consistent with one another, and with all established
truth. Unitarianism is in harmony with the great and
clear principles'of revelation; with the laws and powers
of human nature; with the dictates of the moral sense;
with the noblest instincts and highest aspirations of tile
soul; and with the lights which the universe throws on
the character of its author.  We can hold this doctrine
without self-contradiction, without rebelling against our
rational and moral powers, without putting to silence the
divine monitor in the breast.  And this is an unspeakable benefit; for a religion thus coincident with reason,
conscience, and our whole spiritual being, has the foundations of universal empire in the breast; and the heart,
finding no resistance in the intellect, yields itself wholly,
cheerfully, without doubts or misgivings, to the love of
its Creator.
To Trinitarianism we object, what has always been
objected to it, that it contradicts and degrades reason,
and thus exposes the mind to the worst delusions.
Some of its advocates, more courageous than prudent,
lhave even recommended " the prostration of the under



MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.           201
standing," as preparatory to its reception.  Its chief
doctrine is an outrage on our rational nature.  Its three
persons who constitute its God, must either be frittered
away into three unmeaning distinctions, into sounds signifying nothing; or they are three conscious agents, who
cannot, by any human art or metaphysical device, be
made to coalesce into one being; who cannot be really
viewed as one mind, having one consciousness and one
will. Now a religious system, the cardinal principle of
which offends the understanding, very naturally conforms
itself throughout to this prominent feature, and becomes
prevalently irrational.  He who is compelled to defend
his faith in an) rparticular, by the plea, that human reason
is so depraved through the fall, as to be an inadequate
judge of religion, and that -God is honored by our reception of what shocks the intellect, seems to have no defence left against accumulated absurdities.  According
to these principles, the fanatic who exclaimed, " I believe, because it is impossible," had a fair title to canonization. Reason is too godlike a faculty, to be insulted
with impunity.  Accordingly, Trinitarianism, as we have
seen, links itself with several degrading errors; and its
most natural alliance is with Calvinism, that cruel faith,
which, strippingG-od of mercy and man of power, has
made Christianity an instrument of torture to the timid,
and an object of doubt or scorn to hardier spirits.  I
repeat it, a doctrine which violates reason like the Trinity, prepares its advocates, in proportion as it is incorporated into the mind, for worse and worse delusions.  It
breaks down the distinctions and barriers between truth
and falsehood.  It creates a diseased taste for prodigies,
fictions, and exaggerations, for startling mysteries, and
wild dreams of' enthusiasm.  It destroys the relish for




202             UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY
the simple, chaste, serene beauties of truth. Especially
when the prostration of understanding is taught as an act
of piety, we cannot wonder, that the grossest superstitions should be devoured, and that the credulity of the
multitude should keep pace with the forgeries of imposture and fanaticism.  The history of the Church is
the best comment on the effects of divorcing reason
from religion; and if the present age is disburdened of
many of the superstitions under which Christianity and
human nature groaned for ages, it owes its relief in no
small degree to the reinstating of reason in her longviolated rights.
The injury to religion, from irrational Joctrines when
thoroughly believed, is immense. The human soul has
a unity. Its various faculties are adapted to one another.
One life pervades it; and its beauty, strength, and
growth depend on nothing so much, as on the harmony
and joint action of all its principles.  To wound and
degrade it in any of its powers, and especially in the
noble and distinguishing power of reason, is to inflict on
it universal injury.  No notion is more false, than that
the heart is to thrive by dwarfing the intellect; that perplexing doctrines are the best food of piety; that religion flourishes most luxuriantly in mist and darkness.
Reason was given for God as its great object; and for
him it should be kept sacred, invigorated, clarified, protected from human usurpation, and inspired with a meek
self-reverence.
The soul never acts so effectually or joyfully, as when
all its powers and affections conspire; as when thought
and feeling, reason and sensibility, are called forth together by one great and kindling object.  It will never
devote itself to God with its whole energy, whilst its




MOST FAVORABLE TO PTETY.          203
guiding faculty sees in him a being to shock and confound it. We want a harmony in our inward nature.
We want a piety, which will join light and fervor, and
on which the intellectual power will look benignantly.
We want religion to be so exhibited, that, in the clearest
moments of the intellect, its signatures' of truth will grow
brighter; that, instead of tottering, it will gather strength
and stability from  the progress of the human mind.
These wants we believe to be met by Unitarian Christianity, and therefore we prize it as the best friend of
piety.
I have thus stated the chief grounds, on which I rest
the claim of'Unitarianism to the honor of promoting an
enlightened, profound, and happy piety.
Am I now asked, why we prize our system, and why
we build churches for its inculcation? If I may be
allowed to express myself in the name of conscientious'Unitarians, who apply their doctrine to their own hearts
and lives, I would reply thus: We prize and would
spread our views, because we believe that they reveal
God to us in greater glory, and bring us nearer to him,
than any other. We are conscious of a deep want,
which the creation cannot supply, the want of a Perfect
Being, on whom the strength of our love may be centred, and of an Almighty Father, in whom  our weaknesses, imperfections, and sorrows may find resource;
and such a Being and Father, Unitarian Christianity sets
before us.  For this we prize it above all price.  We
can part with every other good.  We can endure the
darkening of life's fairest prospects. But this bright,
consoling doctrine of One God, even the Father, is
dearer than life, and we cannot let it go. -  Through




204            UNITA'RIN CHRISTIANITY
this faith, every thing grows brighter to our view.  Borni
of such a Parent, we esteem our existence an inestimable gift.  We meet everywhere our Father, and his
presence is as a sun shining on our path.  We see him
in his works, and hear his praise rising from every spot
which we tread.  We feel him near in our solitudes, and
sometimes enjoy communion with him more tender than
human friendship.  We see him in our duties, and perform them more gladly, because they are the best tribute we can offer our Heavenly Benefactor.  Even' tlhe
consciousness of sin, mournful as it is, does not subvert
our peace; for, in the mercy of God, as made manifest
in Jesus Christ, we see an inexhaustible fountain of
strength, purity, and pardon, for all who, in filial reliance, seek these heavenly gifts. -  Through this faith,
we are conscious of a new benevolence springing up to
our fellow-creatures, purer and more enlarged than natural affection.  Towards all mankind we see a rich and
free love flowing from the common Parent, and, touched
by this love, we are the friends of all.  We compassionate the most guilty, and would win them back to
God.- Through this faith, we receive the happiness of
an ever-enlarging hope.  There is no good too vast for
us to anticipate for the universe or for ourselves, from
such a Father as we believe in. We hope from him,
what we deem his greatest gift, even the gift of his own
Spirit, and the happiness of advancing for ever in truth
and virtue, in power and love, in union of mind with the
Father and the Son. —We are told, indeed, that our
faith will not prove an anchor in the last hour.  But we
have known those, whose departure it has brightened;
and our experience of its power, in trial and peril, has
proved it to be equal to all the wants of human nature.




MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.          205
We doubt not, that, to its sincere followers, death will
be a transition to the calm, pure, joyful mansions, pre
pared by Christ for his disciples. There we expect to
meet that great and good Deliverer.  With the eye of
faith, we already see him looking round him with celestial love on all of every name, who have imbibed his
spirit.  His spirit; his loyal and entire devotion to the
will of his Heavenly Father; his universal, unconquerable benevolence, through which he freely gave from his
pierced side his blood, his life for the salvation of the
world; this divine love, and not creeds, and names, and
forms, will then be found to attract his supreme regard.
This spirit we trust to see in multitudes of every sect
and name; and we trust, too, that they, who now reproach us, will at that day recognise, in the dreaded
Unitarian, this only badge of Christ, and will bid him
welcome to the joy of our common Lord. —I have thus
stated. the views with which we have reared this building.  We desire to glorify God, to promote a purer,
nobler, happier piety. Even if we err in doctrine, we
think that these motives should shield us from reproach;
should disarm that intolerance, which would exclude us
from the church on earth, and from  our Father's house
in heaven.
We end, as we began, by offering up this building to
the Only Living and True God. We have erected it
amidst our private habitations, as a remembrancer of
our Creator.  We have reared it in this busy city, as a
retreat for pious meditation and prayer.  We dedicate
it to the King and Father Eternal, the King of kings
and Lord of lords.  We dedicate it to his TUnity, to
his unrivalled and undivided Majesty.  We dedicate it
to the praise of his fiee, unbought, unmerited grace.
VOL. III.             18




206  UNITARIAN CHRISTANITY MOST FAVORABLE TO PIETY.
We dedicate it to Jesus Christ, to the memory of his
love, to the celebration of his divine virtue, to the
preaching of that truth, which he sealed with blood.
We dedicate it to the Holy Spirit, to the sanctifying
influence of God, to those celestial emanations of light
and strength, which visit and refresh the devout mind.
We dedicate it to prayers and praises, which, we trust,
will be continued and perfected in heaven. We dedicate it to social worship, to Christian intercourse, to the
communion of saints.  We dedicate it to the cause of
pure morals, of public order, of temperance, uprightness, and general good will. We dedicate it to Christian admonition, to those warnings, reinonstrances, and
earnest and tender persuasions, by which the sinner may
be arrested, and brought back to God.  We dedicate it
to Christian consolation, to those truths which assuage
sorrow, animate penitence, and lighten the load of human
anxiety and fear.  We dedicate it to the doctrine of
Immortality, to sublime and joyful hopes which reach
beyond the grave.  In a word, we dedicate it to the
great work of perfecting the human soul, and fitting it
for nearer approach to its Author.  Here may heart
meet heart. Here may man meet God. From this
place may the song of praise, the ascription of gratitude,
the sigh of penitence, the prayer for grace, and the holy
resolve, ascend as fragrant incense to Heaven; and,
through many generations, may parents bequeath to their
children this house, as a sacred spot, where God had
"lifted, upon them  his countenance," and given them
pledges of his everlasting love.




THE
GREAT PURPOSE OF CHRISTIANITY.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
INSTALLATION OF THE REV. M. I. MOTTE.
BOSTON, 1828.
2 TIMOTHY i. 7: " For God hath not given us the spirit of fear,
but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
WHY was Christianity given? Why did Christ seal
it with his blood? Why is it to be preached? What
is the great happiness it confers?  What is the chief
blessing for which it is to be prized? What is its preeminent glory, its first claim on the gratitude of mankind?  These are great questions.  I wish to answer
them plainly, according to the light and ability which
God has given me.  I read the answer to them in the
text. There I learn the great good which God confers through Jesus Christ.  " He hath given us, not
the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a
sound mind."  The glory of Christianity is, the pure
and lofty action which it communicates to the human
mind.  It does not breathe a timid, abject spirit.  If it
did, it would deserve no praise. It gives power, energy,




208              THE GREAT PURPOSE
courage, constancy to the will; love, disinterestedness,
enlarged affection to the heart; soundness, clearness,
and vigor to the understanding.  It rescues him, who
receives it, from  sin, from  the sway of the passions;
gives him the full and free use of his best powers;
brings out and brightens the divine image in which
he was created; and, in this way, not only bestows the
promise, but the beginning, of heaven.  This is the excellence of Christianity.
This subject I propose to illustrate.  Let me begin
it with one remark, which I would willingly avoid, but
which seems to me to be demanded by the circumstances in which I am placed.  I beg you to remember,
that in this discourse I speak in my own name, and in
no other. I am not giving you the opinions of any sect
or body of men, but my own. I hold myself alone
responsible for what I utter.  Let none listen to me for
the purpose of learning what others think.  I indeed belong to that class of Christians, who are distinguished
by believing that there is one God, even the Father,
and that Jesus Christ is not this one God, but his dependent and obedient Son. But my accordance with
these is far from being universal, -nor have I any desire to extend it.  What other men believe, is to me
of little moment.  Their arguments I gratefully hear.
Their conclusions I am free to receive or reject.  I
have no anxiety to wear the livery of any party.  I indeed take cheerfully the name of a Unitarian, because
unwearied efforts are used to raise against it a popular
cry; and I have not so learned Christ, as to shrink
from reproaches cast on what I deem  his truth.  Were
the name more honored, I should be glad to throw it
off; for I fear the shackles which a party connexion im




oP CRIST'IANITY.              209
poses.  I wish to regard myself as belonging, nolt to a
sect, but to the community of free minds, of lovers of
truth, of followers of Christ, both on earth and in heaven.  I desire to escape the narrow walls of a particular church, and to live under the open sky, in the broad
light, looking far and wide, seeing with my own eyes,
hearing with my own ears, and following truth meekly,
but resolutely, however arduous or solitary be the path
in which she leads.  I am, then, no organ of a sect,
but speak from myself alone; and I thank God that I
live at a time, and under- circumstances, which make
it my duty to lay open my whole mind with freedom
and simplicity.
I began with asking, What is the main design and
glory of Christianity? and I repeat the answer, that its
design is to give, not a spirit of fear, but of power, of
love, and of a sound mind. In this its glory chiefly
consists.  In other words, the influence, which it is
intended to exert on the human mind, constitutes its
supreme honor and happiness.  Christ is a great Saviour, as he redeems or sets free the mind, cleansing
it from evil, breathing into it the love of virtue, calling
forth its noblest faculties and affections, enduing it with
moral power, restoring it to order, health, and liberty.
Such was his great aim.  To illustrate these views will
be the object of the present discourse.
In reading the New Testament, I everywhere meet
the end here ascribed to Jesus Christ. He came, as I
am there taught, not to be an outward, but inward deliverer; not to rear an outward throne, but to establish
his kingdom within us. He came, according to the express language and plain import of the sacred writers,
"tto save us from  sir," "to  bless us by turning us




210              THE GREAT PURPOSE
from our iniquities," " to redeem us " from  corruptions
I"handed down by tradition," to form  "Ca glorious and
spotless church" or community, to "' create us anew
after the image of God," to make us by his Cc promises
partakers of a divine nature," and to give us pardon
and heaven by calling us to repentance and a growing
virtue.  In reading the New Testament, I everywhere
learn, that Christ lived, taught, died, and rose again,
to exert a purifying and ennobling influence on the
human character; to make us victorious over sin, over
ourselves, over peril and pain; to join us to God by
filial love, and, above all, by likeness of nature, by participation of his spirit.  This is plainly laid down in
the New Testament as, the supreme end of Christ.
Let me now ask, Can a nobler end be ascribed to
Jesus? I affirm, that there is, and can be, no greater
work on earth, than to purify the soul from evil, and
to kindle in it new light, life, energy, and love. I
maintain, that the true measure of the glory of a religion is to be found in the spirit and power, which it
communicates to its disciples.  This is one of the plain
teachings of reason.  The chief blessing to an intelligent being, that which makes all other blessings poor,
is the improvement of his own mind.  Man is glorious
and happy, not by what he has, but by what he is. He
can receive nothing better or nobler than the unfolding
of his own spiritual nature.  The highest existence in
the universe is Mind; for God is mind; and the developement of that principle which assimilates us to God,
must be our supreme good.  The omnipotent Creator,
we have reason to think, can bestow nothing greater
than intelligence, love, rectitude, energy of will and of
benevolent action; for these axe the splendors of his




OF CRISTIANITY.               211 
own nature.  We adore him for these.  In imparting
these, he imparts, as it were, himself.  We are too apt
to look abroad for good.  But the only true good is
within.  In this outward universe, magnificent as it is,
in the bright day and the starry night, in the earth and
the skies, we can discover nothing so vast as thought,
so strong as the unconquerable purpose of duty, so subr
lime as the spirit of disinterestedness and self-sacrifice.
A mind which withstands all the powers of the outward
universe, all the pains which fire and sword and storm
can inflict, rather than swerve from uprightness, is nobler than the universe.  Why will we not learn the
glory of the soul?  We are seeking a foreign good.
But we all possess within us what is of more worth
than the external creation.  For this outward system
is the product of Mind.  All its harmony, beauty, and
beneficent influences are the fruits and manifestations
of Thought and Love; and is it not nobler and happier, to be enriched with these energies, from which
the universe springs, and to which it owes its magnificence, than to possess the universe itself?  It is not
what we have, but what we are, which constitutes our
glory and felicity.  The only true and durable riches
belong to the mind. A soul, narrow and debased, may
extend its possessions to the ends of the earth, but is
ipoor and wretched still.  It is through inward health
that we enjoy all outward things.  Philosophers teach
us, that the mind creates the beauty which it admires
in nature; and we all know, that, when abandoned to
evil passions, it can blot out this beauty, and spread
over the fairest scenes the gloom of a dungeon.  We
all know, that by vice it can turn the cup of social happiness into poison, and the most prosperous condition




212              TilH GREAT rPUi'OSi
of life into a curse.  From  these views we learn, that
the true friend and Saviour, is not he who acts for us
abroad, but who acts within, who sets the soul free,
touches the springs of thought and affection, binds us
to God, and, by assimilating us to the Creator, brings
us into harmony with the creation. Thus the end, which
we have ascribed to Christ, is the most glorious and
beneficent which can be accomplished by any power on
earth or in heaven.
That the highest purpose of Christianity is such as
has now been affirmed, might easily be shown from a
survey of all its doctrines and precepts.  It might be
shown, that every office with which Jesus Christ is invested, was intended to give him power over the human
character; and that his great distinction consists in the
grandeur and beneficence of his influence on the soul.
But a discussion of this extent cannot be comprehended
in a single discourse.  Instead of a general survey of
the subject, I shall take one feature of it, a primary and
most important one, and' shall attempt to show, that the
great aim of this is to call forth the soul to a higher
life, to a nobler exercise of its power and affections.
This leading feature of Christianity is, the knowledge
which it gives of the character of God-. Jesus Christ
came to reveal the Father.  In the prophecies concerning him  in the Old Testament, no characteristic
is so frequently named, as that he should spread the
knowledge of the true God.  Now I ask, What constitutes the importance of such a revelation?  Why has
the Creator sent his Son to make himself known?  1
answer, God is most worthy to be known, because he
is the most quickening, purifying, and ennobling object
for the mind; and his great purpose in revealing him



OF CHRISTIANITY.              213
self is, that he may exalt and perfect human nature.
God, as he is manifested by Christ, is another name
for intellectual and moral excellence; and, in the knowledge of him, our intellectual and moral powers find their
element, nutriment, strength, expansion, and happiness.
To know God is to attain to the sublimest conception
in the universe.  To love God, is to bind ourselves to
a being, who is fitted, as no other being is, to penetrate
and move our whole hearts; in loving whom, we exalt
ourselves; in loving whom, we love the great, the good,
the beautiffdl, and the infinite; and under whose influ*ence, the soul unfolds itself as a perennial plant under
the cherishing sun.  This constitutes the chief glory of
religion.  It ennobles the soul.  In this its unrivalled
dignity and happiness consist.
I fear, that the world at large think religion a very
different thing from what has now been set forth.  Too
many think it a depressing, rather than an elevating
service, that it breaks rather than ennobles the spirit,
that it teaches us to cower before an almighty and irresistible being; and I must confess, that religion, as it
has been generally taught, is any thing but an elevating
principle.  It has been used to scare the child, and
appal the adult. BMen have been virtually taught to
glorify God by flattery, rather than by becoming excellent and glorious themselves, and thus doing honor
to their Maker.  Our dependence on God has been
so taught, as to extinguish the consciousness of our free
nature and moral power. Religion, in one or another
form, has always been an engine for crushing the human soul.  But such is not the religion of Christ.  If
it were, it would deserve no respect. We are not, we
carnnot be bound to prostrate ourselves before a deity




214              THE GREAT PURPOSE
who makes us abject and base. That moral principle
within us, which calls us to watch over and to perfect
our own souls, is an inspiration, which no teaching cal
supersede or abolish.  But I cannot bear, even in way'
of argument, to speak of Christianity as giving views
of God depressing and debasing to the human mind.
Christ hath revealed to us God as The Father, and as
a Father in the noblest sense of that word.  He hath
revealed him, as the author and lover of all souls, desiring to redeem all from  sin, and to impress his likeness more and more resplendently on all; as. proffering
to all that best gift in the- universe, his " holy spirit ";
as having sent his beloved Son to train us up, and to
introduce us to an' inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled,
and unfading in the heavens." Such is the God of
Jesus Christ; a being not to break the spirit, but to
breathe trust, courage, constancy, magnanimity, in a
word, all the sentiments which form an elevated mind.
This sentiment, that the knowledge of God, as given
by Christ, is important and glorious, because quickening and exalting to the human soul, needs to be taught
plainly and forcibly.  The main ground of the obligation of being religious, I fear, is not understood among
the multitude of Christians. - Ask them, why they must
know and worship God? and I fear, that, were the heart
to speak, the answer would be, Because he can do with
us what he will, and consequently our first concern
is to secure his favor.  Religion is a calculation of interest,. a means of safety.  God' is worshipped too often
on the same principle on which flattery and' personal
attentions are lavished on human superiors, and the
worshipper cares not how abjectly he bows, if he may
win to his side the power which he cannot resist.  I




'OF CHRISTIANITY.             215
look with deep sorrow on this common perversion of
the highest principle of the soul.  My friends, God is
not to be worshipped, because he has much to give,
for on this principle a despot, who should be munificent
to his slaves, would merit homage.  He is not to be
adored for mere power; for power, when joined with
selfishness and crime, ought to be withstood, and the
greater the might of an evil agent, the holier and the
loftier is the spirit which will not bend to him.  True
religion is the worship of a perfect being, who is the
author of perfection to those who adore him. On this
ground, and on no other, religion rests.
Why is it, my hearers, that God has discoverd such
solicitude, if I may use the word, to make himself
known and obtain our worship? Think you, that he
calls us to adore him from a love of homage or service? Has God man's passion for ruling, man's thirst
for applause, man's desire to have his name shouted
by crowds?  Could the acclamations of the universe,
though concentrated into one burst of praise, give our
Creator a new or brighter consciousness of his own ma
jesty and goodness? O! no. He has manifested himself to us, because, in the knowledge and adoration of
his perfections, our own intellectual and moral perfection is found.  What he desires, is, not our subjection,
but our excellence.  He has no love of praise.  He
calls us as truly to honor goodness in others as in himself, and only claims supreme honor, because he transcends all others, and because he communicates to the
mind which receives him, a light, strength, purity, which
no other being can confer. God has no love of empire.
It could give him no pleasure to have his footstool worn
by the knees of infinite hosts.  It is to make us his




2 1 6            THE GREAT PURPOSE
children in the highest sense of that word, to make us
more and more the partakers of his own nature, not
to multiply slaves, that he hath sent his Son to make
himself known.  God indeed is said to seek his own
glory; but the glory of a creator must consist in the
glory of his works; and we may be assured, that he
cannot wish any recognition of himself, but that which
will perfect his noblest, highest work, the immortal
mind.
Do not, my friends, forget the great end for which
Christ enjoins on us the worship of God.  It is not,
that we may ingratiate ourselves with an almighty agent,
whose frown is destruction.  It is, that we may hold
communion with an intelligence and goodness, infinitely
surpassing our own; that we may rise above imperfect
and finite natures; that we may attach ourselves by love
and reverence to the best Being in the universe; and
that, through veneration and love, we may receive into
our own minds the excellence, disinterestedness, wisdom, purity, and power, which we adore. This reception of the divine attributes, I desire especially to hold
forth, as the most glorious end for which God reveals
himself.  To praise him is not enough.  That homage,
which has no power to assimilate us to him, is of little
or no worth.  The truest admiration is that by which
we receive other minds into our own.  True praise is a
sympathy with excellence, gaining strength by utterance.
Such is the praise which God demands. Then only is
the purpose of Christ's revelation of God accomplished,
when, by reception of the doctrine of a Paternal Divinity, we are quickened to " follow him, as dear children,"
and are " filled with his fulness," and become "1 his temples," and "s dwell in God, and have God dwelling in
ourselves."




OF CHRISTIANITY.              217
l have endeavoured to show the; great purpose of the
Christian doctrine respecting G-od, or in what its importance and glory consist.  Had I time, I might show,
that every other doctrine of our religion has the same
end' I might particularly show how wonderfully fittedl
are the character, example, life, death, resurrection, and
all the offices of Christ, to cleanse the mind from moral
evil, to quicken, soften, elevate,. and transform  it into
the divine image; and I might show that these are the
influences which true faith derives from him, and through
which he works out our salvation.  But I cannot enter
on, this fruitful subject.  Let -me only say, that I see
everywhere in Christianity, this great design of liberating and raising the human mind, on which I have enlarged.  I see in Christianity nothing narrowing or depressing, nothing of the littleness of the systems which
human fear, and craft, and ambition have engendered.
I' meet there no minute legislation, no descending to
precise details,'no arbitrary injunctions, no yoke of ceremonies, no outward: religion.  Every thing breathes
freedom, liberality, enlargement.  I meet there, not a
formal, rigid creed, binding on the intellect, through all
ages, the mechanical, passive repetition of the same
words, and the same ideas; but I meet a few grand, allcomprehending truths, which are given to the soul, to be
developed and applied by itself; given to it, as seed to
the sower, to be cherished and expanded by its own
thought, love, and obedience into more and more glorious fruits of wisdom  and virtue.  I see it everywhere
inculcating an enlarged spirit of piety and philanthropy,
leaving each of us to manifest this spirit according to the
monitions of his individual conscience.  I hear it everywhere calling the soul to freedom  and power, by calling
VOL. III.              19




218              THE GREAT -PURPOSE't to guard against the senses, the passions, the appetites)
through which it is chained, enfeebled, destroyed. I see
it everywhere aiming to give the mind power over the
outward world, to make it superior to events, to suffering, to material nature, to persecution, to death.  I see
it everywhere aiming to give the mind power over itself,
to invest it with inward sovereignty, to call forth within
us a mighty energy for our own elevation.  I meet in
Christianity only discoveries of a vast, bold, illimitable
character; fitted and designed to give energy and expansion to the soul. By its doctrine of a Universal Father,
it sweeps away all the barriers of sect, party, rank, and
nation, in which men have labored to shut up their love;
makes us members of an unbounded family; and establishes sympathies between man and the whole intelligent
creation. In the character of Christ, it sets before us
moral perfection, that greatest and most quickening miracle in human history, a purity, which shows no stain or
touch of the earth, an excellence unborrowed, unconfined, bearing no impress of any age or any nation, the
very, image of the Universal Father; and it encourages
us, by assurances of God's merciful aid, to propose this
enlarged, unsullied virtue, as the model and happiness
of our moral nature.  By the cross of Christ, it sets
forth the spirit of self-sacrifice with an energy never
known before, and, in thus crucifying selfishness, frees
the mind from its worst chain. By Christ's resurrection,
it links this short life with eternity, discovers to us in the
fleeting present, the germ of an endless future, reveals
to us the human mind ascending to other worlds, breathing a freer air, forming higher connexions, and summons
us to a force of holy purpose becoming such a destination. To conclude, Christianity everywhere sets before




,OF CHRISTIANITY.             219
us God in the character of infinitely free, rich, boundless
Grace, in a clemency which is "not overcome by evil,
but overcomes evil with good;" and a more animating
and ennobling truth, who of us can conceive? I have
hardly glanced at what Christianity contains.  But who
does not see that it was sent from Heaven, to call forth
and exalt human nature, and that this is its great glory?
It has been my object in this discourse to lay open
a great truth, a central, all-comprehending truth of
Christianity. Whoever intelligently and cordially embraces it, obtains a standard by which to try all other
doctrines, and to measure the importance of all other
truths.  Is it so embraced?  I fear not.  I apprehend
that it is dimly discerned by many who acknowledge it,
whilst on many more it has hardly dawned.  I see other
views prevailing, and prevailing in a greater or less degree among all bodies of Christians, and they seem to
me among the worst errors of our times. Some of these
I would now briefly notice.
1. There are those, who, instead of placing the glory
of Christianity in the pure and powerful action which it
gives to the human mind, seem to think, that it is rather
designed to substitute the activity of another for our own.
They imagine the benefit of the religion to be, that it
enlists on our side an almighty being who does every
thing for us.  To disparage human agency, seems to
them the essence of piety.  They think Christ's glory
to consist, not in quickening free agents to. act powerfully on themselves, but in changing them by an irresistible
energy.  They place a Christian's happiness, not so
much in powers and affections unfolded in his own breast,
as in a foreign care extended over him, in a foreign wisdom which takes the place of his own intelligence. Now,




220              THE.GREAT PURPOSE
the great purpose of Christianity is, not to procure or
offer to the mind a friend on whom it may passively
lean, but to make the mind itself. wise, strong, and efficient.  Its end is, not that wisdom and strength, as subsisting in another, should do every thing for us, but that
these attributes should grow perpetually in our own souls.
According to Christianity, we are not carried forward as
a weight by a foreign agency; but God, by means suited
to our moral nature, quickens and strengthens us to walk
ourselves.  The great design of Christianity is, to build
up in our own souls a power to withstand, to endure, to
triumph.  Inward vigor is its aim.  That we should do
most for ourselves and most for others, this is the glory
it confers, and in this its happiness is found.
2. I pass to another illustration of the insensibility of
men to the great doctrine, that the happiness and glory
of Christianity consist in the healthy and lofty frame to
which it raises the mind.  I refer to the propensity of
multitudes to make a wide separation between religion
or Christian virtue, and its rewards.  That the chief reward lies in the very spirit of religion, they do not
dream.  They think of being Christians for the sake
of something beyond the Christian character, and something more precious.  They think that Christ has a
greater good to give, than a strong and generous love
towards God and mankind; and would almost turn from
him with scorn, if they thought him only a benefactor
to the mind. It is this low view, which dwarfs the piety
of thousands.  Multitudes are serving God for wages
distinct from the service, and hence superstition, slavishness, and formality are substituted for inward energy
and spiritual worship.
3. Men's ignorance of the great truth stated In this




OF CHRISTIANITY.              22
discourse, is seen in the low ideas attached by multitudes to the word, salvation.  Ask multitudes, what is
the chief evil from which Christ came to save them,
and they will tell you, "I From  hell, from penal fires,
from future punishment."  Accordingly, they think that
salvation is something which another may achieve for
them, very much as a neighbour may quench a conflagration that menaces their dwellings and lives.  That
word, hell,which is used so seldom in the sacred pages,
which, in a faithful translation, would not once occur
in the writings of Paul, and Peter, and John, which
we meet only in four or five discourses of Jesus, and
Wvhich all persons, acquainted with Jewish geography,
know to be a metaphor, a figure of speech, and not
a literal expression, this word, by a perverse and exaggerated use, has done unspeakable injury to Christianity.  It has possessed and diseased men's imaginations with outward tortures, shrieks, and flames; given
them the idea of an outward ruin as what they have
chiefly to dread; turned their thoughts to Jesus, as an
outward deliverer; and thus blinded them to his true
glory, which consists in his setting free and exalting
the soul.  Men are flying from an outward hell, when
in truth they carry within them the hell which they
should chiefly dread.  The salvation which man chiefly
needs, and that which brings with it all other deliverance, is salvation from the evil of his own mind. There
is something far worse than outward punishment.  It is
sin; it is the state of a soul, which has revolted from
God, and cast off its allegiance to conscience and the
divine word; which renounces its Father, and hardens
itself against Infinite Love-; which, endued with divine
Dowers, enthralls itself to animal lusts; wJk:ch makes
19 *




222              THE GREAT PURPOSt
gain its god; which:-has capacities of boundless and
ever-growing love, and shuts itself up in the dungeon
of private interests; which, gifted with a. self-directing
power, consents to be a slave, and is passively formed
by custom, opinion, and changing events; which, living
under God's eye, dreads man's frown or scorn, and
prefers human praise to its own calm consciousness of
virtue; which tamely yields to temptation, shrinks with
a coward's baseness from the perils of duty, and sacrifices its glory and peace in parting with self-control.
No ruin can be compared to this.  This the impenitent
man carries with him beyond the grave, and there meets
its natural issue, and inevitable retribution, in remorse,
self-torture, and woes unknown on earth. This we
cannot too strongly fear.  To save, in the highest sense
of that word, is to lift the fallen spirit from this depth,
to heal the diseased mind, to restore it to energy and
freedom  of thought, conscience, and love.  This was
chiefly the salvation for which Christ shed his blood.
For this the holy spirit is given; and to this all the
truths of Christianity conspire.
4. Another illustration of the error which I am  laboring to expose, and which places the glory and importance of Christianity in something besides its quickening influence on the soul, is afforded in the common
apprehensions formed of heaven, and of the methods
by which it may be obtained. Not a few, I suspect,
conceive of heaven as a foreign good.~ It is a distant
country, to which we are to be conveyed by an outward
agency. How slowly do men learn, that heaven is the
perfection of the mind, and that Christ gives it now
just as far as he raises the mind to celestial truth and
virtue.  It is true, that this word is often used to ex



OF CHRISTIANITY.             223
press a future felicity; but the blessedness of the future
world is only a continuance of what is begun here.
There is but one true happiness, that of a mind unfolding its best powers, and attaching itself to great
objects; and Christ gives heaven, only in proportion
as he gives this elevation of character.  The disinterestedness, and moral strength, and filial piety of the
Christian, are not mere means of heaven, but heaven
itself, and heaven now.
The most exalted idea we can form of the filture
state is, that it brings and joins us to God.  But is not
approach to this great being begun on earth?  Another
delightful view of heaven is, that it unites us with the
good and great of our own race, and even with higher
orders of beings.  But this union is one of spirit, not
of mere place; it is accordance of thought and feeling,
not an outward relation; and does not this harmony
begin even now? and is not virtuous friendship on earth
essentially the pleasure which we hope hereafter? What
place would be drearier than the future mansions of
Christ, to one who should want sympathy with their
inhabitants, who could not understand their language,
who would feel himself a foreigner there, who would
be taught, by the joys which he could not partake, his
own loneliness and desolation? These views, I know,
are often given with greater or less distinctness; but
they seem to me not to have brought home to men
the truth, that the fountain of'happiness must be in
our own souls.  Gross ideas of futurity still prevail.  I
should not be surprised if to some among us the chief
idea of heaven were that of a splendor, a radiance,
like that which Christ wore on the Mount of Transfiguration.  Let us all consider, and it is a great truth,




224              THE GREAT PURPOSE
that heaven; has no lustre surpassing that of intellectua
and, moral worth; and that, were the effulgence of tlie
sun; and stars concentrated in the Christian, even, this
would be darkness, compared with the pure beamings
of wisdom-, love, and power from his mind. Think not,
then, that Christ has come to give heaven as something,
distinct from virtue.  Heaven is the freed and sanctified mind, enjoying God through accordance with his
attributes, multiplying its bonds and sympathies with
excellent beings, putting forth noble powers, and ministering, in union with, the enlightened and holy, to the
happiness and virtue of the universe.
My friends, I fear I have been guilty of repetition.
But I feel the greatness of the truth which I deliver,
and I am anxious to make it plain.  Men need to be
taught it perpetually.  They have always been inclined
to look to Christ for something better, as they have
dreamed, than the elevation of their own souls.  The
great purpose of Christianity to unfold and strengthen
and lift up the mind, has been perpetually thrown out
of sight.  In truth, this purpose has been more than
overlooked.  It has been reversed.  The very religion
given to exalt human nature, has been used to make it
abject.  The very religion which was given to create a
generous hope, has been made an instrument of servile
and torturing fear.  The very religion which came from
God's goodness to enlarge the human soul with a kindred goodness, has been employed to narrow  it to a
sect, to rear the Inquisition, and to kindle fires for the
martyr.  The very religion given to make the understanding and conscience fiee, has, by a criminal perversion, served to break them into subjection to priests,
ministers, and human creeds.  Ambition and craft have




OFr CgRISTIANITY.            225
seized. on the solemn doctrines of an omnipotent God
and of future punishment, and turned them  into engines against the child, the trembling female, the ignorant. adult, until the skeptic has been emboldened to
charge on religion the chief miseries and degradation
of human nature.  It is from  a deep and sorrowful
conviction of the injuries inflicted on Christianity and
on the human soul, by these perversions and errors,
thatiI have reiterated the great truth of this discourse.
I would rescue  our holy faith from  this dishonor.
Christianity has no tendency to break the human spirit,
or to make man a slave.  It has another aim; and as
far as it is understood, it puts forth another power.
God sent it from  heaven, Christ sealed it with his
blood, that it might give force of thought and purpose
to the human mind, might free it from all fear but: the
fear of wrong-doing, might make it free of its fellowbeings, might break from it every outward and inward
chain.
My hearers, I close with exhorting you to remember
this great purpose of our religion.  Receive Christianity as given to raise you in the scale of spiritual
being. Expect from it no good, any farther than it
gives strength and worth to your characters. Think
not, as some seem to think, that Christ has a higher
gift than purity to bestow, even pardon to the sinner.
He does bring pardon. But once separate the idea of
pardon from purity; once imagine that forgiveness is
possible to him who does not forsake sin; once make it
an exemption from outward punishment, and not the
admission of the reformed mind to favor and communion with God; and the doctrine of pardon becomes
your peril, and a system so teaching it, is fraught with




226              THEM GREAT PURPOSE
evil. Expect no good from Christ, any farther than
you are exalted by his character and teaching.  Expect
nothing from  his cross, unless a power comes from it,
strengthening you to " bear his cross," to " drink his
cup,~" with his own unconquerable love.  This is its
highest influence.  Look not abroad for the blessings
of Christ.  His reign and chief blessings are within
you. The human soul is his kingdom. There he gains
his victories, there rears his temples, there lavishes his
treasures.  His noblest monument is a mind redeemed
from iniquity, brought back and devoted to God, forming itself after the perfection of the Saviour, great
through its power to suffer for truth, lovely through its
meek and gentle virtues.  No other monument does
Christ desire; for this will endure and increase in
splendor, when earthly thrones shall have fallen, and
even when the present order of the outward universe
shall have accomplished its work, and shall have passed
away.




LIKENESS TO GOD.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
ORDINATION OF THE REV. F. A. FARLEY.
PROVIDENCE, R. I. 1828.
EPHESIANS V. I: "Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear
children."
To promote true religion is the purpose of the Christian ministry.  For this it was ordained.  On the present occasion, therefore, when a new teacher is to be
given to the church, a discourse on the character of
true religion will not be inappropriate.  I do not mean,
that I shall attempt, in the limits to which I am now
confined, to set before you all its properties, signs, and
operations; for in so doing I should burden your memories with divisions and vague generalities, as uninteresting as they would be unprofitable.  My purpose
is, to select one view of the subject, which seems to me
of primary dignity and importance; and I select this,
because it is greatly neglected, and because I attribute
to this neglect much of the inefficacy, and many of the
corruptions, of religion.




LIKENESS TO GOD.
The text calls us to follow or imitate God, to seek
accordance with or likeness to him; and to do this,
not fearfully and faintly, but with the spirit and hope
of beloved children.  The doctrine which I propose
to illustrate, is: derived. immediately from  these words,
and is incorporated with the whole New Testament.  I
affirm, and would maintain, that true religion consists
in proposing, as our great end, a growing likeness to
the Supreme Being.,' Its noblest influence consists in
making us more and more partakers of the Divinity.
For this it is to be preached.  Religious instruction
should aim chiefly to turn men's aspirations and efforts
to that perfection of the soul, which constitutes it a
bright image of God.  Such is the topic now  to be
discussed; and I implore Him, whose glory I seek, to
aid me in unfolding and enforcing it with simplicity and
clearness, with a calm and pure zeal, and with unfeigned
charity.
I begin with observing, what all indeed will understand, that the likeness to God, of which I propose to
speak, belongs to man's higher or spiritual nature.  It
has its foundation in the original and essential capacities of the mind.  In proportion as these are unfolded
by right and vigorous exertion, it is extended and
brightened.  In proportion as these lie dormant, it is
obscured.  In proportion -as they are perverted and
overpowered by the appetites and passions, it is blotted
out.  In truth, moral evil, if unresisted and habitual,
may so blight and lay waste these capacities, that the
image of God in man may seem to be wholly destroyed.
The importance of this assimilation to our Creator,
is a topic which needs no labored discussion.  All men,
of whatever name, or sect, or opinion, will meet me




LKNESS TO GOD.                229
on this ground.  All,  I presume, will allow, that no
good in the compass of the universe, or within the gift
of omnipotence, can be compared to a resemblance of
God, or to a participation of his attributes.  I fear no
contradiction here'.  Likeness to God is the supremne
gift.  He can communicate nothing so precious, glorious, blessed, as himself.  To hold intellectual and moral
affinity with the Supreme Being, to partake his spirit,
to be his children by derivations of kindred excellence,
to bear a growing conformity to the perfection which
we adore, this is a felicity which obscures and annihilates all other good.
It is only in proportion to this likeness, that we can
enjoy either God or the universe.  That God can be
known and enjoyed only through sympathy or; kindred
attributes, is a doctrine which even Gentile philosophy
discerned.  That'the pure in heart can alone see and
commune with the pure Divinity, was the sibime instructioi of ancient sages as well as 6f inspired' prophets.  It is indeed the lesson of daily experience.  iT6
understand a great and good being, we must have the'
seeds of the same excellence.  How quickly, by what
an instinct, do accordant minds recognise one another!
No attraction is so powerful as that which subsists
between the truly wise and good; whilst the brightest
excellence is lost on those who have nothing congenial
in their'own breasts.  God becomes a real being to us,
in proportion as his owfi' nature is unfolded within us.
To a man who is growiling in' the likeness of God, faitih
begins even here to change' into vision.  lHe carries
within himself a proof of a Deity, which can only be
understood by experience.  He more than believes, he
feels the Divine presence; and gradually rises to an
vorL. IiI.            20




230                LIKENESS TO GcO.
intercourse with his Maker, to which it is not irreverent to apply the name of friendship and intimacy.  The
Apostle John intended to express this truth, when he
tells us, that he, in whom  a principle of divine charity
or benevolence has become a habit and life, " dwells in
God and (God in him."
It is plain, too, that likeness to God is the true and
only preparation for the enjoyment of the universe.  In
proportion as we approach and resemble the mind of
God, we are brought into harmony with the creation;
for, in that proportion, vwe possess the principles from
which the universe sprung; we carry within ourselves
the perfections, of which its beauty, magnificence, order,
benevolent adaptations, and boundless purposes, are the
results and manifestations.  God unfolds himself in his
works to a kindred mind. It is possible, that the birevity
of these hints may expose to the charge of mysticism,
what seems do me the calmest and clearest truth.  I
think, however, that every reflecting man will feel, that
likeness to God must be a principle of sympathy or
accordance with his creation; for the creation is a birth
and shining forth of the Divine Mind, a work through
which his spirit breathes,.  In proportion as we receive
this spirit, we possess within ourselves the explanation
of what we see.  We discern more and more of God in
every thing, from the frail flower to the everlasting stars.
Even in evil, that dark cloud which hangs over the
creation, we -discerln rays of light and hope, and gradually come to see., in suffering and temptation, proofs
and instruments of the sublimest purposes of Wisdom
and Love.
I have offered these very imperfect views, that I may
show the great importance of the doctrine which I am




LAKENESS OF GOD.               231
solicitous to enforce. I would teach, that likeness to
God is a good so unutterably surpassing all other good,
that whoever admits it as attainable, must acknowledge
it to be the chief aim of life. I would show, that the
highest and happiest office of religion is, to bring the
mind into growing accordance with God; and that by
the tendency of religious systems to this end, their
truth and worth are to be chiefly tried.
I am aware that it may be said, that the Scriptures,
in speaking of man as made in the image of God, and
in calling us to imitate him, use bold and figurative
language.  It may be said, that there is danger from too
literal an interpretation; that God is an unapproachable
being; that I am  iiot warranted in ascribing to man a
like nature to the Divine; that we and all things illustrate the Creator by contrast, not by resemblance; that
religion manifests itself chiefly ini convictions and acknowledgments of utter worthlessness; and that to talk
of the greatness and divinity of the human soul, is to
inflate that pride through which Satan fell, and through
which man involves himself in that fallen spirit's ruin.
I answer, that, to me, Scripture and reason hold a
different language.  In Christianity particularly, I meet
perpetual testimonies to the divinity of human nature.
This whole religion expresses an infinite concern of
God for the human soul, and teaches that he deems no
methods too expensive for its recovery and exaltation.
Christianity, with one voice, calls me to turn my regards and care to the spirit within me, as of mnore worth
than the whole outward world.  It calls us to " be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect;" and every
where, in the sublimity of its precepts, it implies and




232                LIKENESS OF GOD0
recognises the sublime capacities of the being to whora
they are addressed.  It assures us that human virtue
is "in the sight of God of great price," and speaks of
the return of a human being to virtue as an event which
increases the joy of heaven.  In the New  Testament,
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the brightness of his
glory, the express and unsullied image of the Divinity,
is seen mingling with men as a friend and brother,
offering himself as their example, and'promising to his
true followers a share in all his splendors and joys.,
In the New Testament, God is said to communicate his
own spirit, and all his fulness to the human soul.  In.
the New Testament man is exhorted to aspire after
" honor, glory, and immortality"; and Heaven, a word
expressing the nearest approach to God, and a divine.happiness, is everywhere proposed as the end of his
being.  In truth, the very essence of Christian faith is,
that we trust in God's mercy, as revealed in Jesus
Christ, for a, state of celestial purity, in which we shall
grow for ever in the likeness, and knowledge, and enjoyment of the Infinite Father.  Lofty views of the
nature of man are bound up and interwoven with the
whole Christian system.  Say not, that these are at,
war with humility; for who was ever humbler than
Jesus, and yet who ever possessed such a consciousness
of greatness and divinity?  Say not that man's business
is to think of his sin, and not of his dignity; for great
sin implies a great capacity; it is the abuse of a noble
nature; and no man can be deeply and rationally contrite, but he who feels, that in wrong-doing he has
resisted a divine voice, and warred against\ a divine
principle, in his own soul. -I need not, I trust, pursue
the argument from  revelation..  There is an argumn. e




LIKENESS TO GOD.              233
from nature and reason, which seems to me so convincing, and is at the same time so fitted to explain what I
mean by man's possession of a like nature to God, that
I shall pass at once to its exposition.
That man has a kindred nature with God, and may
bear most important and ennobling relations to him,
seems to me to be established by a striking proof. This
proof you will understand, by considering, for a moment, how we obtain our ideas of God.  Whence come
the conceptions which we include under that august
name?  Whence do we derive our knowledge of the
attributes and perfections which constitute the Supreme
Being? I answer, we derive them from our own souls.
The divine attributes are first developed in ourselves,
and thence transferred to our Creator.  The idea of
God, sublime and awful as it is, is the idea of our own
spiritual nature, purified and enlarged to infinity.  In
ourselves are the elements of the Divinity.  God, then,
does not sustain a figurative resemblance to man.  It is
the resemblance of a parent to a child, the likeness of a
kindred nature.
We call God a Mind.  He has revealed himself as a
Spirit.. But what do we know of mind, but through the
unalcding of this principle in our own breasts? That unbounded spiritual energy which we call God, is conceived
by us only through consciousness, through the knowledge
of ourselves. — We ascribe thought or intelligence to
the Deity, as one of his most glorious attributes.  And
what means this language?  These ternis we have
framed to express operations or faculties of our own
souls. The Infinite Light would be for ever hidden from
us, did not kindred rays dawn and brighten within us.'God is another name for human intelligence raised above
20*




234               LIKENESS TO GOD:
all error and imperfections and extended to all possibik
truth.
The same is true of God's goodness.  How do we
understand this, but by the principle of love implanted
in the human breast?  Whence is it, that this divine attribute is so faintly comprehended, but from the feeble
developement of it in the multitude of men? Who can,
understand the strength, purity, fulness, and extent of
divine philanthropy, but he in whom selfishness has been
swallowed up in love?
The. same is true of all the moral perfections of the:
Deity.  These are comprehended by us, only through
our own moral nature.  It, is conscience within us,
which, by its approving and condemning: voice, interprets to us God's love of virtue and hatred of sin; and
without conscience, these glorious conceptions would
never have opened on the mind.  It is the lawgiver in
our own breasts, which gives us the idea of divine authority, and binds us to obey it.  The soul, by its sense
of right, or its perception of moral distinctions, is
clothed with sovereignty over itself, and through this
alone, it understands and recognises the Sovereign of
the Universe.  Men, as by a natural inspiration, have
agreed to speak of conscience as the voice of God, as
the Divinity within  us.  This principle, reverently
obeyed, makes us more and more partakers of the moral
perfection of the Supreme Being, of -that very excellence, which constitutes the rightfulness of his sceptre,
and enthrones him over the universe.  Without this ins
ward law, we should be as incapable of receiving a law
from Heaven, as the brute.  Without this, the thunders
of Sinai might startle the outward ear, but would- have
no meaning, no authority to the mind. T have expressed




LIKENESS TO GOD.             235
here a great truth. Nothing teaches so encouragingly
our relation and resemblance to God; for the glory of
the Supreme Being is eminently moral.  We blind ourselves to his chief splendor, if we think only or mainly
of his power, and overlook those attributes of rectitude
and goodness, to which he subjects his omnipotence,
and which are the foundations and very substance of his
universal and immutable Law.  And are these attributes
revealed to us through the principles and convictions of
our own souls? Do we understand through sympathy
God's perception of the right, the good, the holy, the
just? Then with what propriety is; it said, that in his
own image he made man 
I am aware, that it may be objected to these views,
that we receive our idea of God from the universe,
from his works, and not so exclusively from our own
souls.  The universe, I know, is full of God.  The
heavens and earth declare his glory.  In other words,
the effects and signs of power, wisdom, and goodness,
are apparent through the whole creation.  But apparent
to what?  Not to the outward eye; not to the acutest
organs of sense; but to a kindred mind, which interprets the universe by itself.  It. is only through that
energy of thought, by which we adapt various and complicated means to distant ends, and give harmony and a
common bearing to multiplied exertions, that we understand the creative intelligence which has established the
order, dependencies, and harmony of nature.  We see
God around us, because he dwells within us. It is by
a kindred wisdom, that we discern his wisdom in his
works.  The brute, with an eye as piercing as ours,
looks on the universe; and the page, which to us is
radiant with characters of greatness and goodness, is to




236               LUtENESS TO GOD.
him a blank.  In truth, the beauty and glory of God's
works, are revealed to the mind by a light beaming from
itself. We discern the impress of God's attributes in
the universe, by accordance of nature, and enjoy them
through sympathy. — I hardly need observe, that these
remarks in relation to the universe apply with equal, if
not greater force, to revelation.
I shall now be met by another objection, which to
many may seem strong.  It will be said, that these various attributes of which I have spoken, exist in God in
Infinite Perfection, and that this destroys all affinity between the human and the Divine mind.  To this I have
two replies.  In the first place, an attribute, by becoming perfect, does not part with its essence.  Love, wisdom, power, and purity do not change their nature by
enlargement.  If they did, we should lose the Supreme
Being through his very infinity.  Our ideas of himn would
fade away into mere sounds. For example, if wisdom
in God, because unbounded, have no affinity with that
attribute in man, why apply to him that term?  It must
signify nothing. Let me ask what we mean, when we
say that we discern the marks of intelligence in the universe?  We mean, that we meet there the proofs of a
mind like our own.  We certainly discern proofs of no
other; so that to deny this doctrine would be to deny
the evidences of a God, and utterly to subvert the foundations of religious belief.  What man can examine the
structure of a plant or an animal, and see the adaptation
of its parts to each other and to common ends, and not
feel, that it is the work of an intelligence akin to his own,
and that he traces these marks of design by the same
spiritual energy in which they had their origin?
But I would offer another answer to this objection,




LIKENESS TO GOD.              237
that God's infinity places him beyond the resemblance
and approach of man.  I affirm, and trust that I do not
speak too strongly, that there are traces of infinity in the
human mind; and that, in this very respect, it bears a
likeness to God.  The very conception of infinity, is
the mark of a nature to which no limit can be prescribed.
This thought, indeed, comes to us, not so much from
abroad, as from our own souls.  We ascribe this attribute to God, because we possess capacities and wants,
which only an unbounded being can fill, and because we
are conscious of a tendency in spiritual faculties to unlimited expansion. We believe in the Divine infinity,
through something congenial with it in our own breasts.'I hope I speak clearly, and if not, I would ask those to
whom  I am  obscure, to pause before they condemn.
To me it seems, that the soul, in all its higher actions,
in original thought, in the creations of genius, in the
soarings of imagination, in its love of beauty and grandeur, in its aspirations after a pure and unknown joy,
and especially in disinterestedness, in the spirit of selfsacrifice, and in enlightened devotion, has a character of
infinity. There is often a depth in human love, which
may be strictly called unfathomable.  There is sometimes a lofty strength in moral principle, which all the
power of the outward universe cannot overcome. There
seems a might within, which can more than balance all
might without.  There is, too, a piety, which swells into
a transport too vast for utterance, and into an immeasurable joy. I am speaking, indeed, of what is uncommon,
but still of realities.  We see, however, the tendency
of the soul to the infinite, in more familiar and ordinary
forms. Take, for example, the delight which we find
in the vast scenes of nature, in prospects which spread




238               LIKENESS TO GOD.
around us without limits, in the immensity of the heavens
and the ocean, and especially in the rush and roar of
mighty winds, waves, and torrents, when, amidst our
deep awe, a power within seems to respond to the omnipotence around us.  The same principle is seen in the
delight ministered to us by works of fiction or of imaginative art, in which our own nature is set before us in
more than human beauty and power.  In truth, the soul
is always bursting its limits.  It thirsts continually for
wider knowledge.  It rushes forward to untried happiness. It has deep wants, which nothing limited can
appease.  Its true element and end is an unbounded
good. Thus, God's infinity has its image in the soul;
and through the soul, much more than through the universe, we arrive at this conception of the Deity.
In these remarks I have spoken strongly.  But I have
no fear of expressing too strongly the connexion between
the Divine and the human mind.  My only fear is, that I
shall dishonor the great subject.  The danger to which
we are most exposed, is that of severing the Creator
from his creatures.  The propensity of human sovereigns to cut off communication between themselves and
their subjects, and to disclaim a common nature with
their inferiors, has led the, multitude of men, who think
of God chiefly under the character of a king, to conceive of him as a being who places his glory in multiplying distinctions between himself and all other beings.
The truth is, that the union between the Creator and the
creature surpasses all other bonds in strength and intimacy.  He penetrates all things, and delights to irradiate
all with his glory.  Nature, in all its lowest and inanimate forms, is pervaded by his power; and, when
quickened by the mysterious property of life, how won



LIKENESS TO GOD.              239
derfully does it show forth the perfections of its Author!
How much of God may be seen in the structure of a
single leaf, which, though so frail as to tremble in every
wind, yet holds connexions and living communications
with the earth, the air, the clouds, and the distant sun,
and, through these sympathies with the universe, is itself a revelation of an omnipotent mind! God delights
to diffuse himself everywhere. Through his energy, unconscious matter clothes itself with proportions, powers,
and beauties, which reflect his wisdom and love.  How
much more must he delight to frame conscious and
happy recipients of his perfections, in whom his wisdom
and love may substantially dwell, with whom he may
form spiritual ties, and to whom he may. be an everlasting spring of moral energy and happiness! How far
the Supreme Being may communicate his attributes to
his intelligent offspring, I stop not to inquire.  But that
his almighty goodness will impart to them powers and
glories, of which the material universe is but a faint emblem, I cannot doubt.  That the soul, if true to itself
and its Maker, will be filled with God, and will manifest
him, more than the sun, I cannot doubt.  Who can
doubt it, that believes and understands the doctrine of
human immortality?
The views which I have given in this discourse, respecting man's participation of the Divine nature, seem
to me to receive strong confirmation, from the title or
relation most frequently applied to God in the New
Testament; and I have reserved this as the last corroboration of this doctrine, because, to my own mind, it
is singularly affecting.  In the New Testament God is
made known to us as a Father; and a brighter feature
of that book cannot be named. Our worship is to be




240               LIKENESS TO GOD.
directed to him as our Father.  Our whole religion is to
take its character from this view of the Divinity.  In
this he is to rise always to our minds. And what is it
to be a Father? It is to communicate one's own nature,
to give life to kindred beings  and the highest function
of a Father is to educate the mind of the child, and to
impart to it what is noblest and happiest in his own
mind. God is our Father, not merely because he created us, or because he gives us enjoyment; for he created
the flower and the insect, yet we call him  not their
Father. This bond is a spiritual one. This name belongs to God, because he frames spirits like himself, and
delights to give them what is most glorious and blessed
in his own nature.  Accordingly, Christianity is said,
with special propriety, to reveal God as the Father, because it reveals him as sending his Son to cleanse the
mind from every stain, and to replenish it for ever with
the spirit and moral attributes of its Author.  Separate
from God this idea of his creating and: training up beings
after his own likeness, and you rob him of the paternal
character.  This relation vanishes, and with it vanishes
the glory of the Gospel, and the dearest hopes of the
human soul.
The greatest use which I would make of the principles laid down in this discourse, is to derive from them
just and clear views of the nature' of religion.  What,
then, is religion?  I answer; it is not the adoration of a
God with whom we have no common properties; of a
distinct, foreign, separate being; but of an all-commnunicating Parent.  It recognises and adores God, as a being whom  we know through our own souls, who has
made man in his own image, who is the perfection of our




LIKENESS TO GOD.               241
own spiritual nature, who has sympathies with us as
kindred beings, who is near us, not in place only like
this all-surrounding atmosphere, but by spiritual influence
and love, who looks on us with parental interest, and
whose great design it is to communicate to us for ever,
and in freer and fuller streams, his own power, goodness,
and joy.  The conviction of this near and ennobling
relation of God to the soul, and of his great purposes
towards it, belongs to the very essence of true religion;
and true religion manifests itself chiefly and most conspicuously in desires, hopes, and efforts corresponding
to this truth.  It desires and seeks supremely the:assimilation of the mind to God, or the perpetual unfolding
and enlargement of those powers and virtues by which it
is constituted his glorious image.  The mind, in' proportion as it is enlightened and penetrated by true religion,
thirsts and: labors for a godlike elevation.  What else,
indeed, can it seek, if this good be placed within its
reach?  If I am capable of receiving and reflecting the
intellectual and moral glory- of my Creator, what else in
comparison shall I desire?  Shall I deem a property in
the outward universe as the highest good, when I may
become partaker of the very mind from which it springs,
of the prompting love, the disposing wisdom, the quickening power, through which its order, beauty, and benefi.cent influences subsist? True religion is known by
these high aspirations, hopes, and efforts.  And this is
the religion which most truly honors God.  To honor
him, is not to tremble before him as an unapproachable
sovereign, not to utter barren praise which leaves us as
t found us.  It is to become what we praise.  It is
o approach God as an inexhaustible Fountain of light,
power, and purity.  It is to feel the quickening and
VOL. III.              21




242                LIKENESS TO GOD.
transforming energy of his perfections.  It is to thirst
for the growth and invigoration of the divine principle
within us.  It is to seek the very spirit of God.  It is
to trust in, to bless, to thank him for that rich grace,
mercy, love, which was revealed and proffered by Jesus
Christ, and which proposes as its great end the perfection of the human soul.
I regard this view of religion as infinitely important.
It does more than all things to make our connexion with
our Creator ennobling and happy; and, in proportion as
we want it, there is danger that the thought of God may
itself become the instrument of our degradation.  That
religion has been so dispensed as to depress the human
mind, I need not tell you; and it is a truth which ought
to be known, that the greatness of the Deity, when separated in our thoughts from his parental character, especially tends to crush human energy and hope.  To a.trail, dependent creature, an omnipotent Creator easily
becomes a terror, and his worship easily degenerates into
servility, flattery, self-contempt, and selfish calculation.
Religion only ennobles us, in as far as it reveals to us
the tender and intimate connexion of God with his
creatures, and teaches us to see in the very greatness
which might give alarm, the source of great and glorious
communications to the human soul.  You cannot, my
hearers, think too highly of the majesty of God.  But
let not this majesty sever him from you.  Remember,
that his greatness is the infinity of attributes which yourselves possess.  Adore his infinite wisdom; but remember that this wisdom rejoices to diffuse itself, and let an
exhilarating hope spring up, at the thought of the immeasurable intelligence which such a Father must comnmunicate to his children.  In like manner adore his




LIKENESS TO GOD.             243
power.  Let the boundless creation fill you with awe
and admiration of the energy which sustains it.  But
remember that God has a nobler work than the outward
creation, even the spirit within yourselves; and that it
is his purpose to replenish this with his own energy, and
to crown it with growing power and triumphs over the
material universe. Above all, adore his unutterable
goodness.  But remember, that this attribute is particularly proposed to you as your model; that God calls
you, both by nature and revelation, to a fellowship in his
philanthropy; that he has placed you in social relations,
for the very end of rendering you ministers and representatives of his benevolence; that he even summons
you to espouse and to advance the sublimnest purpose of
his goodness, the redemption of the human race, by exending the knowledge and power of Christian truth. It
is through such views, that religion raises up the soul,
and binds man by ennobling bonds to his Maker.
-To complete my views of this topic, I beg to add an
important caution.  I have said that the great work of
religion is, to conform ourselves to God, or to unfold
the divine likeness within us.  Let none infer from this
language, that I place religion in unnatural efoirt, in
straining after excitements which do not belong to the
present state, or in any thing separate from the clear and
simple duties of life. I exhort you to no extravagance.
1 reverence human nature too much to do it violence.
I see too much divinity in its ordinary operations, to
urge on it a forced and-vehement virtue.  To grow in
the likeness of G-od, we need not cease to be men.
This likeness does not consist in extraordinary or miraculous gifts, in supernatural additions to the soul, or in
any thing foreign to our original constitution; but in our




244               LIKENESS TO GOD.
essential faculties, unfolded by vigorous and conscientious exertion in the ordinary circumstances assigned by
God. To resemble our Creator, we need not fly from
society, and entrance ourselves in lonely contemplation
and prayer.  Such processes might give a feverish
strength to one class of emotions, but would result in
disproportion, distortion, and sickliness of mind.  Our
proper work is to approach God by the free and natural
unfolding of our highest powers, of understanding, conscience, love, and the moral will.
Shall I be told that, by such language, I ascribe to
nature the effects which can only be wrought in the soul
by the Holy Spirit?  I anticipate this objection, and
wish to meet it by a simple exposition of my views. I
would on no account disparage the gracious aids and in
fluences which God imparts to the human soul.  The
promise of the Holy Spirit is among the most precious
in the Sacred Volume.  Worlds could not tempt me to
part with the doctrine of God's intimate connexion with
the mind, and of his free and full communications to it.
But these views are in no respect at variance with what
I have taught, of the method by which we are to grow
in the likeness of God.  Scripture and experience concur in teaching, that,' by the Holy Spirit, we are to
understand a divine assistance adapted to our moral freedom, and accordant with the fundamental truth, that
virtue is the mind's own work.  By the Holy Spirit, I
understand an aid, which must be gained and made
effectual by our own activity; an aid, which no more
interferes with our faculties, than the assistance which
we receive from our fellow-beings; an aid, which silently mingles and conspires with all other helps and means
of goodness; an aid, by which we unfold our natural




LIKEINESS TO GOD.             245
-powers in a natural order, and by which we are strengthened to understand and apply the resources derived friom
our munificent Creator.  This aid we cannot prize too
much, or pray for too earnestly. But wherein, let me
ask, does it war with the doctrine, that God is to be approached by the exercise and unfolding of our highest
powers and affections, in the ordinary circumstances of
human life?
I repeat it, to resemble our Maker we need not quar
rel with our nature or our lot.  Our present state, made
up, as it is, of aids and trials, is worthy of God, and
may be used throughout to assimilate us to him.  For
example, our domestic ties, the relations of neighbourhood and country, the daily interchanges of thoughts
and feelings, the daily occasions of kindness, the daily
claims of want and suffering, these and the other circumstances of our social state, form the best sphere and
school for that, benevolence, which is God's brightest
attribute; and we should make a sad exchange, by substituting for these natural aids, any self-invented artificial means of sanctity.  Christianity, our great guide
to God, never leads us away from  the path of nature,
and never wars with the unsophisticated dictates of
conscience.  We approach our Creator by every right
exertion of the powers he gives us.  Whenever we invigorate the understanding by honestly and resolutely
seeking truth, and by withstanding whatever might warp
the judgment; whenever we invigorate the conscience
by following it in opposition to the passions; whenever
we receive a blessing gratefully, bear a trial patiently,
or encounter peril or scorn with moral courage; whenever we perform a disinterested deed; whenever we lift
up the heart in true adoration to God; whenever we
21*




246                LIKiENEsSS TO GOD.
war against a habit or desire which is strengthening
itself against our higher principles; whenever we think,
speak, or act,. with moral energy, and resolute devotion
to duty, be the occasion ever so humble, obscure, familiar; then the divinity is growing within us, and we
are ascending towards our Author. True religion thus
blends itself with common life.  We are thus to draw
nigh to God, without forsaking men.  We are thus,
without parting with our human nature, to clothe ourselves with the divine.
My views on the great subject of this discourse have
now been given.  I shall close with a brief consideration of a few objections, in the course of which I shall
offer some views of the Christian ministry, which this
occasion and the state of the world, seem to me to deo
mand. -I anticipate from some an objection to this discourse, drawn as they will say from  experience.  I may
be told, that, I have talked of the godlike capacities of
human nature, and have spoken of man as a divinity;
and where, it will be asked, are the warrants of this
high. estimate of our race? I may be told that I dream,
and that I have peopled the world with the creatures
of my lonely imagination. What! Is it only in dreams,
that beauty and loveliness have beamed on me from the
human countenance, that I have heard tones of kinds
ness, which have thrilled through my heart, that I have
found sympathy in suffering, and a sacred joy in friendship? Are all the great and good men of past ages
only dreams?. Are such names as Moses, Socrates,
Paul, Alfred, Milton, only the fictions of my disturbed
slumbers?  Are the great deeds of history, the discoveries of philosophy, the creations of genius, only visions 




tLIKENESS TO GOD.             247
O! no..  I do not dream. when I speak of the divine
ca.pacities of human nature.  It is a real page in which
I;read of patriots and martyrs, of Fenelon and HIoward,
of; Hampden. and Washington.  And tell me not that
these were prodigies, miracles, immeasurably separated:from their race; for the very reverence, which has treasured up and hallowed their memories, the very sentiments of admiration and love with which their names
are now heard, show that the principles of their greatness are diffused through all your breasts.  The germs
of sublime virtue are scattered liberally on our earth.
HIo~w often, have I seen in the obscurity of domestic
life,; a strength of love, of endurance, of pious trust, of
virtuous resolution, which in a public sphere would have
attracted public homage.  I cannot but pity the man,
who recognises nothing godlike in his own nature.  I
see the marks of God in the heavens and the earth,
but how much more in a liberal intellect, in magnanimity., in unconquerable rectitude, in a philanthropy
which forgives every wrong, and- which never despairs
of the cause.of Christ and human virtue.  I do and I
must reverence human nature.  Neither the sneers of
a -worldly skepticism, nor the groans of a gloomy theology, disturb my faith in its godlike powers and tendencies.  I know how it is despised, how it has been
oppressed, how civil and religious establishments have
for ages conspired to crush it.  I know its history.  I
shut my eyes on none of its weaknesses and crimes.
I understand- the proofs, by which despotism demonstrates, that man is a wild,, beast, in want of a mastier,
and only safe in chains.  But, injured, trampled on, and
scorned as our nature is, I still turn to it with intense
sympathy and strong hope.  The signatures of its origin




248               LIKENESS TO GOD.
and its end are impressed too deeply to be ever wholly
effaced.  I bless it for its kind affections, for its strong
and tender love.  I honor it for its struggles against
oppression, for its growth and progress under the weight
of so many chains and prejudices, for its achievements
in science and art, and still more for its examples of
heroic and saintly virtue.  These are marks of a divine
origin and the pledges of a celestial inheritance; and I
thank God that my own lot is bound up with that of tlhe
humnan race.
But another objection starts up.  It may be said,
"Allow  these views to be true; are they fitted for the
pulpit? fitted to act on common minds? They may be
prized by men of cultivated intellect and taste; but can
the multitude understand them?  Will the multitude
feel them?  On whom has a minister to act?  On men
immersed in business, and buried in the flesh; on men,
whose whole power of thought has been spent on pleasure or gain; on men chained by habit and, wedded to
sin. Sooner may adamant be riven by a child's touch,
than the human heart be pierced by refined and elevated sentiment.  Gross instruments will alone act on
gross minds.  Men sleep, and nothing but thunder,
nothing but flashes from the everlasting fire of hell,
will thoroughly wake them."
I have all along-felt that such objections would be
made to the views I have urged.  But they do not
move me.  I answer, that I think these views singularly
adapted to the pulpit, and I think them full of power.
The objection is that they are refined.  But I see God
accomplishing his noblest purposes by what may be
called refined means.  All the great agents of nature,
attraction, heat, and the principle of life, are refined,




LIKENESS TO GOD.               249
spiritual, invisible, acting gently, silently, imperceptibly; and yet brute matter feels their power, and is
transformed by them into surpassing beauty.  The electric fluid, unseen, unfelt, and everywhere diffused, is
infinitely more efficient, and ministers to infinitely nobler
productions, than when it breaks forth in thunder. Much
less can I believe, that in the moral world, noise, menace, and violent appeals to- gross passions, to fear and
selfishness, are God's chosen means of calling forth
spiritual life, beauty, and greatness.  It is seldom that
human nature throws off all susceptibility of grateful
and generous impressions, all sympathy with superior
virtue; and here are springs and principles to which a
generous teaching, if simple, sincere, and fresh from
the soul, may confidently appeal.
It is said, men cannot understand the views which
seem to me so precious.  This objection I am anxious
to. repel, for the common intellect has been grievously
kept down and wronged through the belief of its incapacity.' The pulpit, would do more good, were not
the mass' of men looked upon and treated as children.
Happily for the race, the time is passing away, in which
intellect was thought the monopoly of a few, and the:majority were given over to hopeless ignorance.  Science is leaving her solitudes to enlighten the multitude.
How much more may religious teachers take courage
to speak to men on subjects, which are nearer to them
than the properties and laws of matter, I mean their
own souls.  The multitude, you say, want capacity to
receive great truths relating to their spiritual nature.
But what, let me ask you, is the Christian religicn?
A  spiritual system, intended to turn men's minds upon
themselves, to frame them  to watchfulness over thought,




250               LIKENESS TO GOD.
imagination, and passion, to establish them in an intimacy with their own souls. What are all the Christian
virtues, which men are exhorted to love and seek? I
answer, pure and high motions or determinations of the
mind.  That refinement of thought, which, I am told,
transcends tile common intellect, belongs to the very
essence of Christianity. In confirmation of. these views,
the human mind seems to me to be turning itself more
and more inward, and to be growing more alive to its
own worth, and its capacities of progress.  The spirit
of education shows this, and so does the spirit of freedom.  There is a spreading conviction that man was
made for a higher purpose than to be a beast of burden,
or a creature of sense.  The divinity is stirring within
the human breast, and demanding a culture and a liberty worthy of the child of God.  Let religious teaching correspond to this advancement of the mind.  Let
it rise above the technical, obscure, and firigid theology
which has come down to us from  times of ignorance,
superstition, and slavery.  Let it penetrate the human
soul, and reveal it to itself.  No preaching, I believe,
is so intelligible, as that which is true to human nature,
and helps men to read their own spirits.
But the objection which I have stated not only represents men as incapable of understanding, but still more
of being moved, quickened, sanctified, and saved, by
such views as I have given.  If by this objection nothing more is meant, than that these views are not alone
or of themselves sufficient, I shall not dispute it; for
true and glorious as they are, they do not constitute
the whole truth, and I do not expect great moral effects
from narrow and partial views of our nature.  I have
spoken of the godlike capacities of the soul.  But other




,IIKENESS TO GOD.             251
and very different elements enter into the human being.
Man has animal propensities as well as intellectual and
moral powers.  He has a body as well as mind.  He
has passions to war with reason, and self-love with conscience.  He is a free being, and a tempted being, and
thus constituted he may and does sin, and often sins
grievously.  To such a being, religion, or virtue, is a
conflict, requiring great spiritual effort, put forth in habitual watchfulness and prayer; and all the motives are
needed, by which force and constancy may be communicated to the will.  I exhort not the preacher, to talk
perpetually of man as ks made but a little lower than the
angels."  I would not narrow him to any class of topics.
Let him adapt himself to our whole and various nature.
Let him summon to his aid all the powers of this world,
and the world to come.  Let him bring to bear on the
conscience and the heart, God's milder and more awful
attributes, the promises and threatenings of the divine
word, the lessons of history, the warnings of experience.
Let the wages of sin here and hereafter be taught clearly and. earnestly.  But amidst the various motives to
spiritual effort, which belong to the minister, none are
more quickening than those drawn from the soul itself,
and from God's desire and purpose to exalt it, by every
aid consistent with its freedom. These views I conceive
are to mix with all others, and without them all others
fail to promote a generous virtue.  Is it said, that the
minister's proper work is, to preach Christ, and not the
dignity of human nature?  I answer, that Chrimt's greatness is manifested in the greatness of the nature which
he was sent to redeem; and that his chief glory consists
in this, that he came to restore God's image where it
was obscured or effaced, and to give an everlasting im



252                LIKENESS TO GOD.
pulse and life to what is divine within us.  Is it said,
that the malignity of sin is to be the minister's great
theme? I answer, that this malignity can only be understood and felt, when sin is viewed as the ruin of God's
noblest work, -as darkening a light brighter than the
sun, as carrying discord, bondage, disease, and death
into a mind framed for perpetual progress towards its
Author.  Is it said, that terror is the chief instrument
of saving the soul? I answer, that if by terror, be meant
a rational and moral fear, a conviction and dread of the
unutterable evil incurred by a mind which wrongs, betrays, and destroys itself, then I anm the last to deny its
importance. - But a fear like this, which regards the
debasement of the soul as the greatest of evils, is plainly
founded upon and proportioned to our conceptions of
the greatness of our nature.  The more common terror,
excited by vivid images of torture and bodily pain, is
a very cuestionable means of virtue. When strongly
awakened, it generally injures the character, breaks men
into cowards and slaves, brings the intellect to cringe
before human authority, makes man abject before his
Maker, and, by a natural: reaction of the mind, often
terminates in a presumptuous confidence, altogether dis
tinct from  virtuous self-respect, and singularly hosti-e
to the unassuming, charitable spirit of Christianity. The
preacher should rather strive to fortify the soul against
physical pains, than to bow it to their mastery, teaching it to dread nothing in comparison with sin, and to
dread sin as the ruin of a noble nature.
Men, I repeat it, are to be quickened and raised by
appeals to their highest principles.  Even the convicts
of a prison may be touched by kindness, generosity, and
especially by a tone, look, and address, expressing hope




LIKENESS TO GOD.               253
and respect for their nature.  I know, that the doctrine
of ages has been, that terror, restraint, and bondage are
the chief safeguards of human virtue and peace.  But
we have begun to learn, that affection, confidence, respect, and fireedom  are mightier as well as nobler
agents.  Men can be wrought upon by generous influences. I would that this truth were better understood by
religious teachers. From the pulpit, generous influences
too seldom  proceed.  In the church, men too seldom
hear a voice to quicken  and exalt them.  Religion,
speaking through leer public organs, seems often to forget
her natural tone of elevation.  The character of God,
the principles of his government, his relations to the
human family, the purposes for which he brought us into
being, the nature which he has given us, and the condition in which he has placed us, these and the like topics,
though the sublimest which can enter the mind, are not
unfrequently so set forth as to narrow and degrade the
hearers, disheartening and oppressing with gloom  the
timid and sensitive, and infecting coarser mlinds with the
unhallowed spirit of intolerance, presumption, and exclusive pretension to the favor of God.  I know, and rerejoice to know, that preaching in its worst forms does
good; for so bright and piercing is the light of Christianity, that it penetrates in a measure the thickest clouds
in which men contrive to involve it. But that evil mixes
with the good, I also know; and I should be unfaithful
to my deep convictions, did I not say, that human nature
requires for its elevation, more generous treatment from
the teachers of religion.
I conclude with saying, let the minister cherish a reverence for his own nature.  Let him  never despise it
even in its most forbidding forms. Let him delight in
VOL  IIo               Q2




254               LIKENESS TO GOD.
its beautiful and lofty manifestations.  Let him hold fast
as one of the great qualifications for his office, a faith in
the greatness of the human soul, that faith, which looks
beneath the perishing body, beneath the sweat of the
laborer, beneath the rags and ignorance of the poor, beneath the vices of the sensual and selfish, and discerns
in the depths of the soul a divine principle, a ray of the
Infinite Light, which may yet break forth and " shine as
the sun " in the kingdom of God. Let him strive to
awaken in men a consciousness of the heavenly treasure within them, a consciousness of possessing what is
of more worth than the outward universe. Let hope
give life to all his labors. Let him speak to men, as to
beings liberally gifted, and made for God. Let him always look round on a congregation with the encouraging
trulst, that he has hearers prepared to respond to the
simple, unaffected utterance of great truths, and to the
noblest workings of his own mind. Let him feel deeply
for those, in whom the divine nature is overwhelmed by
the passions. Let him sympathize tenderly with those,
in whom it begins to struggle, to mourn for sin, to thirst
for a new life. Let him guide and animate to higher
and diviner virtue, those in whom it has gained strength.
Let him strive to infuse courage, enterprise, devout trust,
and an inflexible will, into men's labors for their own
perfection.  In one word, let him cherish an unfaltering
and growing faith in God as the Father and quickener
of the human mind, and in Christ as its triumphant and
immortal friend.  That by such preaching he is to work
miracles, I do not say.  That he will rival in sudden
and outward effects what is wrought by the preachers of
a low and terrifying theology, I do not expect or desire.
That all will be made better, I am far from believing.




LIKENESS TO GOD.             255
HIis office is, to act on fiee beings, who, after all, must
determine themselves; who have power to withstand all
foreign agency; who are to be saved, not by mere
preaching, but by their own prayers and toil.  Still I
believe that such a minister will be a benefactor beyond
all praise to the human soul.  I believe, and know, that,
on those who will admit his influence, he will work
deeply, powerfiully, gloriously.  His function is the sublimest under heaven; and his reward will be, a growing
power of spreading truth, virtue, moral strength, love,
and happiness, without limit and without end.








THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
DISCOURSE
AT
THE DEDICATION OF DIVINITY HALL,
CAMBRIDGE, 1826.
LUKE iv. 32: " His word was with power."
WE are assembled to set apart and consecrate this
building to the education of teachers of the Christian
religion. Regarding, as we do, this religion as God's
best gift to mankind, we look on these simple walls,
reared for this holy and benevolent work, with an interest, which more splendid edifices, dedicated to inferior
purposes, would fail to inspire.  We thank God for the
zeal which has erected them.  We thank him for the
hope, that here will be trained, and hence will go forth,
able ministers of the New Testament.  God accept our
offering and fulfil our trust. May he shed on this spot
the copious dew of his grace, and compass it with his
favor as with a shield.
To what end do we devote this building? How may
this end be accomplished? These questions will guide
our- present reflections.
22 *




258            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
To what end is this edifice dedicated?  The answer
to this' question may be given in various forms or expanded into various particulars.  From  this wide range
of topics, I shall select one, which from its comprehensiveness and importance, will be acknowledged to deserve peculiar attention.  I say, then, that this edifice
is dedicated to the training of ministers, whose word,
like their Master's, shall be " with power."  Power,
energy, efficiency, that is the endowment to be communicated most assiduously by a theological institution.
Such is the truth, which I would now develope.  My
meaning may easily be explained.  By the power, of
which I have spoken, I mean that strong action of the
understanding, conscience, and heart, on moral and religious truth, through which the preacher is quickened
and qualified to awaken the same strong action in others.
I mean energy of thought and feeling in the minister,.creating for itself an appropriate expression, and propagating itself to the hearer.  What this power is all men
understand by experience. All know, how the same
truth differs, when dispensed by different lips; how doctrines, inert and uninteresting as expounded by one
teacher, come fraught with life from another; arrest
attention, rouse emotion, and give a new spring to the
soul.  In declaring this power to be the great object of
a theological institution, I announce no discovery.  I
say nothing new.  But this truth, like many others, is
too often acknowledged only to be slighted.  It needs
to be brought out, to be made prominent, to become
the living, guiding principle of education for the ministry.
Power, then, I repeat it, is the great good to be communicated by theological institutions. To impart knowledge is indeed their indispensable duty, but not their




THE CHIBU'rIAN MJINSTRY.          259
whole, nor most arduous, nor highest work. Knowledge
is the means, power the end.  The former, when accumulated, as it often is, with no strong action of the
intellect, no vividness of conception, no depth of conviction, no force of feeling, is of little or no worth to
the preacher.  It comes from him as a faint echo, with
nothing of that mysterious energy, which strong conviction throws into style and utterance.  His breath, which
should kindle, chills his hearers, and the nobler the truth
with which he is charged, the less he succeeds in carrying it far into men's souls.  We want imore than knowledge.  We want force of thought, feeling, and purpose.
What profits it to arm the pupil with weapons of heavenly temper, unless his hands be nerved to wield them
with vigor and success?  The word of God is indeed
I' quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged
sword; " but when committed to him who has no kindred energy, it does not and cannot penetrate the mind.
Power is the attribute, which crowns all a minister's
accomplishments.  It is the centre and grand result, in
which all his studies, meditations, and prayers should
meet, and without which his office becomes a form and
a show.  And yet how seldom  is it distinctly and earnestly proposed as the chief qualification for the sacred
office! How seldom do we meet it! How often does
preaching remind us of' a child's arrows shot against a
fortress of adamant.  How  often does it seem a mock
fight.  We do not see the earnestness of real warfare;
of men bent on the accomplishment of a great good.
We want powerful ministers, not graceful declainlers,
not elegant essayists, but men fitted to act on men, to
make themselves felt in society.
I: have said that the communication of power is the




260            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
great end of a theological institution.  Let not this
word give alarm.  I mean by it, as you must have seen,
a very different power from that which ministers once
possessed, and which some still covet.  There have
been times, when the clergy were rivals in dominion
with kings; when the mitre even towered above the
diadem; when the priest, shutting God's word on the
people, and converting its threatenings and promises into instruments of usurpation, was able to persuade men,
that the soul's everlasting doom hung on his ministry,
and even succeeded in establishing a sway over fiery and
ferocious spirits, which revolted against all other control. This power, suited to barbarous times, and, as
some imagine, a salutary element of society in rude,
lawless ages, has been shaken almost everywhere by
the progress, of intellect; and in Protestant countries,
it is openly reprobated and renounced. It is not to
reestablish this, that these walls have been reared.  We
trust, that they are to be bulwarks against its encroachments, and that they are to send forth influences more
and more hostile to every form of spiritual usurpation.
Am I told that this kind of power is now so fallen
and so contemned, that to disclaim or to oppose it
seems a waste of words? I should rejoice to yield myself to this belief.  But unhappily the same enslaving
and degrading power may grow up under Protestant
as under Catholic institutions.  In all ages arid all
churches, terror confers a tremendous influence on him
who can spread it; and, through this instrument, the
Protestant minister, whilst disclaiming Papal pretensions, is able, if so minded, to build up a spiritual
despotism.  That this means of subjugating the mind
should be too freely used and dreadfully perverted, we




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.           261
cannot wonder, when we consider that no talent is re
quired to spread a panic, and that coarse minds and
hard hearts are signally gifted for this work of torture.
The progress of intelligence is undoubtedly narrowing
the poiwer, which the minister gains by excessive appeals to men's fears, but has by no means destroyed it;
for as yet the intellect, even in Protestant countries,
has exerted itself comparatively little on religion; and,
ignorance begetting a passive, servile state of mind, the
preacher, if so disposed, finds little difficulty in breaking some, if not many, spirits by terror.  The effects
of this ill-gotten power are mournful on the teacher
and the taught.  The panic-smitten hearer, instructed
that safety is to be found in bowing to an unintelligible creed, and too agitated for deliberate and vigorous
thought, resigns himself a passive subject to his spiritual
guides, and receives a faith by which he is debased.
Nor does the teacher escape unhurt; for all usurpation
on men's understandings begets, in him who exercises
it, a dread and resistance of the truth which threatens
its subversion.  Hence ministers have so often fallen
behind their age, and been the chief foes of the master
spirits who have improved the world.  They have felt
their power totter at the tread of an independent thinker.
By a kind of instinct, they have fought against the light,
before which the shades of superstition were vanishing,
and have received their punishment in the darkness and
degradation of their own minds.  To such power as
we have described, we do not dedicate these walls.
We would not train here, if we could, agents of terror,
to shake weak nerves, to disease the imagination, to lay
a spell on men's faculties, to guard a creed by fires
more consuming than those whi:h burned on Sinai




262            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
Believing that this method of dominion is among the
chief obstructions to an enlightened faith, and abhorring
tyranny in the pulpit as truly as on the throne, we would
consecrate this edifice to the subversion, not the participation, of this unhallowed power.
Is it then asked, what I mean by the power which
this institution should aim  to communicate?  I mean
power to act on intelligent and free beings, by means
plroportioned to their nature.  I mean power to call into
healthy exertion the intellect, conscience, affections, and
moral will of the hearer.  I mean force of conception,
and earnestness of style and elocution.  I mean, that
truth should be a vital principle in the soul of the
teacher, and should come firom  him  as a reality.  I
mean,- that his whole moral and intellectual faculties
should be summoned to his work; that a tone of force
and resolution should pervade his efforts; that, throwing
his soul into his cause, he should plead it with urgency,
and should concentrate on his hearers all the influences
which consist with their moral freedom.
Every view which we can take of the ministry will
teach us, that nothing less than the whole amount of
power in the individual can satisfy its demands.  This
we learn, if we consider, first, the weight and grandeur
of the subjects which the minister is to illustrate and
enforce.  He is to speak of God, the King and Father
Eternal, whose praise no tongue of men or angels can
worthily set forth.  He is to speak of the soul, that ray
of the Divinity, the partaker of God's own immortality,
to which the outward universe was made to minister,
and which, if true to itself, will one day be clad with
a beauty and grandeur such as nature's loveliest and




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY            263
sublimest scenery never wears.  He is to speak, not of
this world only, but of invisible and more advanced
states of being; of a world too spiritual for the fleshly
eye to see, but of which a presage and earnest may be
found in the enlightened and purified mind.  He has to
speak of virtue, of human perfection, of the love which
is due to the Universal Father and to fellow-beings, of
the intercourse of the soul with its Creator, and of all
the duties of life as hallowed and elevated by a reference
to God and to the future world.  He has to speak of
sin, that essential evil, that only evil, which, by its
unutterable fearfulness, makes all other calamities unworthy of the name.  He is to treat, not of ordinary
life, nor of the most distinguished agents in ordinary
history, but of God's supernatural interpositions; of
his most sensible and immediate providence; of men
inspired and empowered to work the most important
revolutions in society; and especially of Jesus Christ,
the Son of God, the theme of prophecy, the revealer
of grace and truth, the Saviour from sin, the conqueror
of death, who hath left us an example of immaculate
virtue, whose love passeth knowledge, and whose history, combining the strange and touching contrasts of
the cross, the resurrection, and a heavenly throne, surpasses all other records in interest and grandeur.  IHe
has to speak, not of transitory concerns but of happiness
and misery transcending in duration and degree the most
joyful and suffering condition of the present state.  He
has to speak of the faintly shadowed, but solemn consummation of thi3 world's eventful history; of the coming of the Son of Man, the resurrection, the judgment,
the retributions of the last day.  Here are subjects of
intense interest. They claim and should call forth the




264             TIE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
mind's whole power, and are infinitely wronged when
uttered with cold lips and from an unmoved heart.
If we next consider the effects, which, through these
truths, the minister is to produce, we shall see that his
function demands and should be characterized by power.
The first purpose of a minister's function, which is to
enlighten the understanding on the subject of religion,
is no easy task; for all religious truth is not obvious,
plain, shining with an irresistible evidence, so that a
glance of thought will give the hearer possession of the
teacher's mind.  We sometimes talk, indeed, of the
simplicity of religion, as if it were as easy as a child's
book, as if it might be taught with as little labor as
the alphabet.  But all analogy forbids us to believe, that
the sublimest truths can be imparted or gained with
little thought or effort, and the prevalent ignorance
confirms this presumption.  Obstacles neither few nor
small to a clear apprehension of religion, are found in
the invisibleness of its objects; in the disproportion
between the Infinite Creator and the finite mind; in the
proneness of human beings to judge of superior natures
by their own, and to transfer to the spiritual world the
properties of matter and the affections of sense; in the
perpetual pressure of outward things upon the attention; in the darkness which sin spreads over the intellect; in the ignorance which yet prevails in regard to
the human mind; and, though last not least, in the
errors and superstitions which have come down to us
from past ages, and which exert an unsuspected power
on our whole modes of religious thinking.  These obstacles are strengthened by, the general indisposition to
investigate religion freely and thoroughly.  The tone of
authority with which it has been taught, the terror and




THE CIHRSTIAN MINISTRY.           265
obscure phraseology in which it has been shrouded, and
the unlovely aspect which it has been made,.to wear,
have concurred to repel from it deliberate and earnest
attention, and to reconcile men to a superficial mode of
thinking which they would scorn on every other subject.
Add to this, that the early inculcation and frequent
repetition of religion, by making it familiar, expose it to
neglect.  The result of all these unfavorable influences,
is, that religious truth is more indistinctly apprehended,
is more shadowy and unreal to the multitude, than any
other truth; and, unhappily, this remark; applies with
almost equal truth to all ranks of society and all orders
of intellect.   The loose conceptions of Christianity
which prevail among the high as well as the low, do not
deserve the name of knowledge.   The loftiest minds
among us seldom  put forth their strength on the very
subject, for which intelligence was especially given. A
great revolution is needed here.  The human intellect
is to be brought to act on religion with new power.  It
ought to prosecute this inquiry with an intenseness, with
which no other subject is investigated.  And does it require no energy in the teacher, to awaken this power
and earnestness of thought in others, to bring religion
before the intellect as its worthiest object, to raise men's
traditional, lifeless, superficial faith into deliberate, profound conviction?
That the ministry should be characterized by power
and energy, will be made more apparent, if we consider
that it is instituted to quicken, not only the intellect but
the conscience; to enforce the obligations, as well as illustrate the truth, of religion.  It is an important branch
of the minister's duty, to bring home the general principles of duty -to the individual mind; to turn it upon
VOL. IX1.             23




266             THE CHRISIAN MIMSTRY.
itself; to rouse it to a resolute, impartial survey of its
wnole responsibilities and ill deserts.  And is not energy needed to break through the barriers of pride and
self-love, and to place the individual before a tribunal in
his own breast, as solemn and searching as that which
awaits him at the last day?  It is not indeed so difficult
to rouse, in the timid and susceptible, a morbid susceptibility of conscience, to terrify weak people into the
idea, that they are to answer for sins inherited from the
first fallen pair, and entailed upon them by a stern necessity.  But this feverish action of the conscience is its
weakness, not its strength; and the teacher who would
rouse the Inoral sense to discriminating judgment and
healthful feeling, has need of a vastly higher kind of
power than is required to darken and disease it.
Another proof that the ministry should be characterized by power, is given to us by the consideration, that
it is intended to act on the affections; to exhibit religionr in its loveliness and venerableness, as well as in
Its truth and obligation; to concentrate upon it all the
strength of moral feeling.  The Christian teacher has
a great work to do in the human heart.  His function
has, for its highest aim, to call forth towards God the
profoundest awe, attachment, trust, and joy, of which
human nature is capable. Religion demands, that He
who is supreme in the universe, should be supreme in
the human soul. God, to whom belongs the mysterious
and incommunicable attribute of Infinity; who is the
fulness and source of E'fe and thought, of beauty/and
power, of love and happiness; on whom  we depend
more intimately than the stream  on the fountain, or the
plant on the earth in which it is rooted, —this Great
Being ought to call forth peculiar emotions, and to move




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.            267
asnd sway the soul, as he pervades creation, with unrivalled energy.  It is his distinction, that he unites in
his nature infinite majesty and infinite benignity, the
most awful with the most endearing attributes, the tenderest relations to the individual with the grandeur of
the universal sovere;gn; and, through this nature, he is
fitted to act on the mnind as no other being can,'to
awaken a love more intense, a veneration more profound, a sensibility of which the soul knows not its capacity until it is penetrated and touched by God.  To
bring the created mind into living union with the Infinite
Mlind, so that it shall respond to him through its whole
being, is the noblest flnction, which this harmonious and
beneficent universe performs.  For this, revelation was
given.   For this, the ministry was instituted.   The
Christian teacher is to make more audible, and to interpret, the voice in which the beauty and awfulness of nature, the heavens, the earth, fruitful seasons, storms and
thunders, recall men to their Creator.  Still more, he is
to turn them to the clearer, milder, more attractive
splendors, in which the Divinity is revealed by Jesus
Christ.  His great purpose, I repeat it, is, to give vitality to the thought of God in the human mind; to make
his presence felt; to make him a reality, and the most
powerful reality to the soul.  And is not this a work requiring energy of thought and utterance?  Is it easy, in
a world of matter and sense, amidst crowds of impressions rushing in fromn abroad, amidst the constant and
visible agency of second causes, amidst the anxieties,
toils, pleasures, dissipations, and competitions of life, in
the stir and bustle of society, and in an age when luxury
wars with spirituality, and the developement of nature's
resources is turning men's trust from  the Creator, — is




268'           TIHE CHRISTIAN' MIINSTRYo
it easy, amidst these gross interests andS distracting infflu
ences, to raise men's minds to the invisible Divinity,, to
fix: impressions of God deeper and more enduring than.
those which are received from all, other beings, to make
him the supreme object, spring,.and motive of the soul?
We have seen how deep and strong are the affections
which the minister is to awaken towards God.  But
strength of religious impression is not his whole work..
From the imperfections of our nature, this very strength
has its dangers.  Religions in becoming fervent, often
becomes morbid.  It is the minister's duty to inculcate
a piety characterized by wisdom as much as by warmth;
to meditate, if I may so speak, between the reason and
tile affections, so that, with joint energy and in blessed
harmony, they may rise together and offer up the undivided soul to God. Whoever understands the strength
of emotion ill man's nature, and how hardly the balance
of the soul is preserved, need not be told of the arduousness of this work.  Devout people, through love of
excitement, and through wrong views of the love of
God, are apt to cherish the devotional feelings, at the
expense, if not to the exclusion, of other parts of our
nature.  They seem to imagine that piety, like the Upas
tree, makes a desert where it grows; that the mind, if
not'the body, needs a cloister.  The natural movements
of the soul are repressed; the social affections damped-;
the grace, and ornament, and innocent exhilarations of
life frowned upon; and a gloomy, repulsive religion is.
cultivated Wvhich, by way of compensation for its privations, claims a monopoly of God's favor, abandoning
all to his wrath who will not assume its own sad livery
and echo its own sepulchral tones.  Through such exhibitionsj, religion has lost its honor; and, though the;




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.           269
most ennobling of all sentiments, dilating the soul with
vast thoughts and an unbounded hope, has been thought
to contract and degrade it.  The minister is to teach
an earnest but enlightened religion; a piety, which,
far from wasting or eradicating, will protect, nourish,
freshen the mind's various affections and powers; which
will add force to reason, as well as ardor to the heart;
which will at once bind us to God, and cement and
multiply our ties to our families, our country, and mankind; which will heighten the relish of life's pleasures,
whilst it kindles an unquenchable thirst for a purer happiness in the life to come.  Religion does not mutilate
our nature.  It does not lay waste our human interests
and affections, that it may erect for God a throne amidst
cheerless and solitary ruins, but widens the range of
thought, feeling, and enjoyment.  Such is religion; and
the C'hristian ministry, having for its end the communication of this healthful, well-proportioned, and all-comprehending piety, demands every energy of thought,
feeling, and utterance, which the individual can bring to
the work.
The time would fail me to speak of the other affections and sentiments which the ministry is instituted to
excite and cherish, and I hasten to another object of the
Christian teacher, which, to those who know themselves,
will peculiarly illustrate the power which his office demands.  It is his duty to rouse men to self-conflict, to
warfare with the evil in their own hearts.  This is in
truth the supreme evil.  The sorest calamities of life,
sickness, poverty,. scorn, dungeons, and death, form a
less amount of desolation and suffering than is included
in that one word, sin, —in revolt from God, in disloyalty to conscience, in the tyranny of the passions, in the
23 *




27C0            THE CHRISTIAN MINIISTRY.
thraldom of the soul's noblest powers.  To; redeem  men
from smin was Christ's great end..  To pierce them with
a new  consciousness. of sin-, so- that they: shall groan
under it, and strive against it, and through prayer and
watching master it, is an essential, part of the. minister's
work.  Let him not satisfy himself with awakening, by
his: eloquence, occasional emotions of gratitude or symrnpathy.  He must rouse the soul to solemn, stern resolve
against its own deep and cherished corruptions, or he
only makes a show of assault, and leaves the foe. intrenched, and unbroken within.  We see, then, the arduousness of the minister's work.  He is called to war
with the might of the human passions, with the whole
power of moral evil. IHe is to enlist men, not for. a
crusade, nor for extermination of heretics, butt to fight
a harder battle within, to expel sin in all its forms,; and
especially their besetting sins, from the strongholds of
the heart.  I know no task so arduous, none which demands equal power.
I, shall take but one more view of the objects for
which the Christian ministry was instituted, and from
which we infer that it should be fraught with energy.
It is the duty of the Christian teacher to call forth in
the soul a conviction of its immortality,: a thirst for
a higher existence, and a grandeur and elevation of
sentiment, becoming a.being who is to live, enjoy, and
advance for ever.  His, business is with men, not as
inhabitants of this world, but as related to invisible
beings, and to purer and happier worlds.  The minister
should look with reverence on the human soul as having
within itself the germ of heaven., He should recognise,
In the ignorant and unimproved, vast spiritual faculties
given for perpetual enlargement, -just as the artist of




THE'CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.         2'71
genius sees in the unhewn marble the capacity of being
transformed into a majesty and grace, which will command the admiration of ages.  In correspondence with
these views, let him  strive to quicken men to a consciousness of their inward nature and of its affinity with
God, and to raise their steadfast aim and hope to its interminable progress and felicity.:Such:is his function.
Perhaps I may be told, that men are incapable of rising, under the best instruction, to this height of thought
and: feeling.  But let us never despair of our race.
There -is, I am sure, in the human soul, a deep consciousness, which responds to him who sincerely, and
with the language of reality, speaks to- it of the great
and everlasting purposes for which it was created.
There are sublime instincts in man.  There is in human nature, a want which the world cannot supply; a
thirst for objects on -which:to pour forth more fervent
admiration and love, than visible things awaken; a thirst
for the unseen, the infinite, and the everlasting.  Most
of you who hear have probably had moments, when a
new light has seemed to dawn, a new life to stir within
you; when you have aspired after an unknown good;
when you have been -touched' by moral greatness and
disinterested love; when you have longed to break every
chain of selfishness and sensuality, and enjoy a purer
being.  It is on this part of our nature that religion is
founded.  To this Christianity is addressed. The power to speak to this, is the noblest which God has imparted to man or angel, and should be coveted above
all things by the Christian teacher.
The need of power in the ministry has been made
apparent, from the greatness of the truths to be dispensed and the effects to be wrought by the Christian




272            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
teacher.  The question then comes, How may the stau
dent of theology be aided in gaining or cherishing this
power? Under what influences should he be placed?
What are the springs or foundations of the energy which
he needs?  How may he be quickened and trained to
act most efficiently on the minds of men? In answering these questions, we of course determine the character which belongs to a theological institution, the spirit
which it should cherish, the discipline, the mode of
teaching, the excitements, which it should employ.
From this wide range, I shall select a few topics which
are recommended at once by their own importance and
by the circumstances in which we are now placed.
1. To train the student to power of thought and utterance, let him be left, and, still more, encouraged, to
free investigation.  Without this a theological institution becomes a prison to the intellect and a nuisance
to the church.  The mind grows by free action.  Confine it to beaten paths, prescribe to it the results in
which all study must end, and you rob it of elasticity
and life. It will never spread to its full dimensions.
Teach the young man, that the instructions of others
are designed to quicken, not supersede his own activity;
that he has a divine intellect for which he is to answer
to God, and that to surrender it to another, is to cast
the crown from his head, and to yield up his noblest
birthright. Encourage him, in all great questions, to
hear both sides, and to meet fairly the point of every
hostile argument.  Guard him against tampering with
his own mind, against silencing its whispers and objections, that he may enjoy a favorite opinion undisturbed.
Do not give him the shadow for the substance of freedom, by telling him to inquire, but prescribing to him




TIE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.           273
the convictions at which he must stop.  Better show
him honestlye his chains, than mock the slave with the
show of liberty.
I know the objection to this course.  Its puts to hazard, we are told, the religious principles of the young.
The objection is not without foundation.  The danger
is not unreal. But I know no method of forming a
manly intellect, or a manly character, without danger.
Peril is the element in which power is developed.  Remove the youth firom every hazard, keep him in leadingstrings lest he should stray into forbidden paths, surround him with down lest he should be injured by a fall,
shield him from wind and storms, and you doom him to
perpetual infancy.  All liberty is perilous, as the despot
truly affirms; but who would therefore seek shelter under a despot's throne?  Freedom  of will is almost a
tremendous gift; but still, a free agent, with all his capacity of crime, is infinitely more interesting and noble
than the most harmonious and beautiful machine.  Freedom is the nurse of intellectual and moral vigor.  Better expose the mind to error,' than' rob it of hardihood
and individuality.  Keep not the destined- teacher of
mankind from  the perilous field, where the battle between Truth and Falsehood is fought.  Let hint grapple
with difficulty, sophistry, and error.  Truth is a colnquest, and no man holds her so fast as he who has won
her by conflict.
That cases of infidelity may occur in institutions conducted on free principles, is very possible, though' our
own experience gives no ground for fear.  But the student,, who, with all the aids to Christian belief which are
furnished in a theological seminary, still falls'a prey co
skepticism, is'not the man to be trusted with the cause




274            TIHE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
of Christ.  He is radically deficient.  He wants that
congeniality with spiritual and lofty truths, without which
the evidences of religion work no deep conviction, and
without which the faith that might be instilled by a
slavish institution, would be of little avail.  An upright mind may indeed be disturbed and shaken for a
time by the arguments of skepticism; but these will
be ultimately repelled, and, like conquered foes, will
strengthen the principle by which they have been subdued.
Nothing, I am sure, can give power like a free action
of the mind.  Accumulate teachers and books, for these
are indispensable.  But the best teacher is he who
awakens in his pupils the power of thought, and aids
them to go alone. It is possible to weaken and encumber the mind by too much help. The very splendor
of a teacher's talents may injure the pupil; and a superior man, who is more anxious to spread his own creed
and his own praise, than to nourish a strong intellect
in others, will only waste his life in multiplying poor
copies, and in sending forth into the churches tame
mimics of himself.
To free inquiry, then, we dedicate these walls. We
invite into them the ingenuous young man, who prizes
liberty of mind more than aught within the gift of sects
or of the world.  Let Heaven's free air circulate, and
Heaven's unobstructed light shine here, and let those
wvho shall be sent hence, go forth, not to echo with
servility a creed imposed on their weakness, but to
utter, in their own manly tones, what their cwn free
investigation and deep conviction urge them to preach
as the truth of God.
2. In the second place, to give power to the teacher,




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.           275
nle should be imbued, by all possible inculcation and
excitement, with a supreme and invincible love of truth.
This is at once the best defence against the perils of
free inquiry, and the inspirer of energy both in thought
and utterance.  The first duty of a rational being is to
his own intellect; for it is through soundness and honesty of intellect that he is to learn all other duties.  I
know no virtue more important and appropriate to a
teacher, and especially a religious teacher, than fairness
and rectitude of understanding, than a love of truth
stronger than the love of gain, honor, life; and yet, so
far from being cherished, this virtue has been warred
against, hunted down, driven to exile, or doomed to the
stake, in almost, every Christian country, by ministers,
churches, religious seminaries, or a maddened populace.
In the glorious company of heroes and martyrs, a high
rank belongs to him, who, superior to the frowns or the
sneers, the pity or the wrath, which change of views
would bring upon him, and in opposition to the warping influences of patronage, of private friendship, or ambition, keeps his mind chaste, inviolate, a sacred temple
for truth, ever open to new light from Heaven; and who,
faithful to his deliberate convictions, speaks simply, and
firmly, what his uncorrupted mind believes.  This love
of truth gives power, for it secures a growing knowledge
of truth; and truth is the mighty weapon by which the
victories of religion are to be wrought out.  This endures, whilst error carries with it the seeds of decay.
Truth is an emanation from God, a beam of his wisdom,
and immutable as its source; and, although its first influences may seem to be exceeded by those of error, it
grows stronger, and strikes deeper root, amidst the fluctuations and ruins of false opinions.  Besides, this loyal.




276             THE. CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
ty to truth not only leads to its acquisitions but, still
more, begets a vital acquaintance with it, a peculiar convlction, which gives directness, energy, and authority to
teaching.  A minister, who has been religiously just to
his own understanding, speaks with a tone of reality, of
calm confidence, of conscious uprightness., which cannot
be caught by the servile repeater of other men's notions,
or by the passionate champion of an unexamined creed.
A look, an accent, a word, from a single-hearted inquirer
after truth, expressing his deliberate convictions, has a
peculiar power in fortifying the convictions of others,
To the love of truth, then, be these walls consecrated,
and here may every influence be combined to build it up
in the youthful heart.
3. To train powerful ministers, let an institution avail
itself of the means of forming a devotional spirit, and
imbuing the knowledge of the student with religious sensibility. Every man knows, that a cultivated mind,
under strong and generous emotion, acquires new command of its resources, new energy and fulness of thought
and expression; whilst, in individuals of a native vigor
of intellect, feeling almost supplies the place of culture,
inspiring the unlettered teacher with a fervid, resistless
eloquence, which no apparatus of books, teachers, criticism, ancient languages, and general literature can impart.  This power of sensibility to fertilize and vivify
the intellect is not difficult of explanation.  A  strong
and pure affection concentrates the attention on its objects, fastens on them the whole soul, and thus gives
vividness of conception.  It associates, intimately, all
the ideas which are congenial with itself, and thus causes
a rush of thought into the mind in moments of exciteinent.  Indeed, a strong emotion seems to stir up the




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.           277
soul from its foundations, and to attract to itself, and to
impregnate with its own fire, whatever elements, conceptions, illustrations, can be pressed into its own service.
Hence it is, that even ordinary men, strongly moved,
abound in arguments, analogies, and fervent appeals,
which nothing but sensibility could have taught. Every
minister can probably recollect periods, when devotional
feeling has seemed to open a new fountain of thought
in the soul.  Religious affection instinctively seeks and
seizes the religious aspect of things.  It discerns the
marks of God, and proofs and illustrations of divine
truth, in all nature and providence; and seems to surround the mind with an atmosphere which spreads its
own warm hues on every object which enters it.  This
attraction, or affinity, if I may so say, which an emotion
establishes among the thoughts which accord with itself,
is one of the very important laws of the mind, and is
chiefly manifested in poetry, eloquence, and all the
higher efforts of intellect, by which man sways his fellowbeings. Religious feeling, then, is indispensable to a
powerful minister.  Without it, learning and fancy may
please, but cannot move men profoundly and permanent1y.  It is this, which not only suggests ideas, but gives
felicity and energy of expression. It prompts (' the
words that burn"; those mysterious combinations of
speech, which send the speaker's soul like lightning
through his hearers, which breathe new life into old and
faded truths, and cause an instantaneous gush of thought
and feeling in susceptible minds.
We dedicate this institution, then, to religious feeling.
Here let the heart muse, till the fire burns.  Here let
prayer, joined with meditation on nature and Scripture,
and on the fervid writings of devout men, awaken the
VOL. III.              24




278            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
whole strength of the affections.  But on no point is
caution more needed than on this. Let it never be forgotten, that we want. genuine feeling; not its tones,
looks, and gestures, not a forced ardor and factitious
zeal. Woe to that institution, where the young man is
expected to repeat the language of emotion, whether he
feel it or not; where perpetual pains are taken, to chafe
the mind to a warmth which it cannot sustain.  The
affections are delicate and must not be tampered with.
They cannot be compelled. Hardly'any thing is more
blighting to genuine sensibility, than to assume its tones
and badge where it does not exist.  Exhort the student
to cherish devout feeling, by intercourse with God, and
with those whom God has touched.  But exhort him
as strenuously, to abstain from every sign of emotion
which the heart does not prompt.  Teach him  that
nothing grieves more the Holy Spirit, or sooner closes
the mind against heavenly influences, than insincerity.
Teach him  to be simple, ingenuous, true to his own
soul.  Better be cold, than affect to feel.  In truth,
nothing is so cold as an assumed, noisy enthusiasm.  Its
best emblem is the northern blast of winter, which
freezes as it roars.  Be this spot sacred to Christian
ingenuousness and sincerity.  Let it never be polluted
by pretence, by affected fervor, by cant and theatric
show.
4. Another source of power in the ministry, is Faith;
by which we mean, not a general belief in the truths
of Christianity, but a confidence in the great results,
which this religion and the ministry are intended to promote.  It has often been observed, that a strong faith
tends to realize its objects; that all things become possible to him who thinks them so. Trust and hope breathe




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.          279
animation and force.  He, who despairs of great effects,
never accomplishes them.  All great works have been
the results of a strong confidence, inspiring and sustaining strong exertion.  The young man, who cannot conceive of higher effects of the ministry than he now beholds, who thinks that Christianity has spent all its
energies in producing the mediocrity of virtue which
characterizes Christendom, and to whom the human soul
seems to have put forth its whole power and to have
reached its full growth in religion, has no call to the ministry.  Let not such a man put forth his nerveless hands
in defence of the Christian cause.  A voice of confidence has been known to rally a retreating army, and to
lead it back to victory; and this spirit-stirring tone belongs to the leaders of the Christian host. The minister,
indeed, ought to see and feel, more painfully than other
men, the extent and power of moral evil in individuals,
in the church, and in the world. Let him weep over
the ravages of sin.  But let him  feel, too, that the
mightiest power of the universe is on the side of truth
and virtue; and with sorrow and fear let him join an
unfaltering trust in the cause of human nature.  Let him
look on men, as on mysterious beings, endued with a
spiritual life, with a deep central principle of holy and
disinterested love, with an intellectual and moral nature
which was made to be receptive of God. To nourish
this hopeful spirit, this strengthening confidence, it is important that the minister should understand and feel, that
he is not acting alone in his efforts for religion, but in
union with God and Christ, and good beings on earth
and in heaven.  Let him regard the spiritual renovation
of mankind, as God's chief purpose, for which nature
and providence are leagued in holy cooperation.  Let




280            THIE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
him feel himself joined in counsel and labor, with that
great body of which Christ is the head, with the noble
brotherhood of apostles and martyrs, of the just made
perfect, and, I will add, of angels; and, speaking with a
faith becoming this sublime association, he will not speak
in vain.  To this faith, to prophetic hope, to a devout
trust in the glorious issues of Christianity, we dedicate
these walls; and may God here train up teachers, worthy to mingle and bear a part, with the holy of both
worlds, in the cause of man's redemption.
5. Again, that the ministry may be imbued with new
power, it needs a spirit of enterprise and reform. They
who enter it should feel that it may be improved.  We
live in a stirring, advancing age; and shall not the noblest function on earth partake of the general progress?
Why is the future ministry to be a servile continuation
of the past? Have all the methods of operating on
human beings been tried and exhausted? Are there no
unessayed passages to the human heart?  If we live in
a new era, must not religion be exhibited under new aspects, or in new relations? Is not skepticism taking a
new form? Has not Christianity new foes to contend
with?  And are there no new weapons and modes of
warfare, by which its triumphs are to be insured? If
human nature is manifesting itself in new lights, and
passing through a new and most interesting stage of its
progress, shall it be described by the commonplaces, and
appealed to exclusively by the motives, which belonged
to earlier periods of society? May not the mind have
become susceptible of nobler incitements than those
which suited ruder times?  Shall the minister linger behind his age, and be dragged along, as he often has been,
in the last ranks of improvement?  Let those who are




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.         281
to assume the ministry be taught, that they have something more to do than to handle old topics in old ways,
and to walk in beaten and long-worn paths. Let them
inquire, if new powers and agents may not be brought
to bear on the human character.  Is it incredible, that
the progress of intellect and knowledge should develope
new resources for the teacher of religion, as well as for
the statesman, the artist, the philosopher?  Are there
no new combinations and new uses of the elements of
thought, as well as of the elements of nature? Is it
impossible that in the vast compass of Scripture, of
nature, of Providence, and of the soul, there should be
undisclosed or dimly defined truths, which may give a
new impulse to the human mind? We dedicate this
place, not only to the continuance, but to the improvenment of the ministry; and let this improvement begin,
at once, in those particulars, where the public, if not the
clergy, feel it to be wanted.  Let those, who are to be
educated here, be admonished against the frigid eloquence, the school-boy tone, the inanimate diction, too
common in the pulpit, and which would be endured nowhere else.  Let them speak in tones of truth and nature, and adopt the style and elocution of men, who
have an urgent work in hand, and who are thirsting for
the regeneration of individuals and society.
6. Another source of power, too obvious to need
elucidation, yet too important to be omitted, is, an independent spirit. By which I mean, not an unfeeling
defiance of the opinions and usages of society, but that
moral courage, which, through good report and evilreport, reverently hears, and fearlessly obeys, the voice
of conscience and God. He who would instruct men,
must not fear them.  He who is to reform society, must
24*




282            THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
not be anxious to keep its level. Dread' of opinion
effeminates preaching, and takes from truth its pungency.
The minister so subdued, may flourish his weapons in
the air, to the admiration of spectators, but will never
pierce the conscience.  The minister, like the good
knight, should be without fear.  Let him cultivate that
boldness of speech, for which Paul- prayed.  Let him
not flatter great or small. Let him not wrap up reproof
in a decorated verbiage.  Let him make no compromise
with evil because followed by a multitude, but, for this
very cause, lift up against it a more earnest voice.  Let
him  beware of the shackles which society insensibly
fastens on the mind and the tongue.  Moral courage is
not the virtue of our times.  The love of popularity is
the all-tainting vice of a republic.  Besides, the increasing connexion between a minister and the community,
whilst it liberalizes the mind, and counteracts professional
prejudices, has a tendency to enslave him to opinion, to
wear away the energy of virtuous resolution, and to
change him from an intrepid guardian of virtue and foe
of sin, into a merely elegant and amiable companion.
Against this dishonorable cowardice, which smoothes
the thoughts and style of the teacher, until they glide
through the ear and the mind without giving a shock to
the most delicate nerves, let the young man be guarded.
We dedicate this institution to Christian independence.
May it send forth brave spirits to the vindication of truth
and religion.
7. I shall now close, with naming the chief source
of power to the minister; one, indeed, which has been
in a measure anticipated, and all along implied, but
which ought not to be dismissed without a more distinct annunciation.  I refer to that spirit, or frame, or




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.          283
sentiment, in which the love of God, the love of men,
the love of duty, meet as their highest result, and in
which they are perfected and most gloriously displayed;
I mean the spirit of self-sacrifice, -the spirit of martyrdomI This was the perfection of Christ, and it is the
noblest inspiration which his followers derive from him.
Say not that this is a height to which the generality of
ministers must not be expected to rise.  This spirit is
of more universal obligation than many imagine.  It
enters into all the virtues which deeply interest us.  In
truth, there is no thorough virtue without it.  Who is
the upright man? HIe, who would rather die than defraud. Who the good parent? He, to whom his children are dearer than life. Who the good patriot? i He,
who counts not life dear in his country's cause. Who
the philanthropist?  He, who forgets himself in an
absorbing zeal for the mitigation of human suffering,
for the freedom, virtue, and illumination of men.  It is
not Christianity alone which has taught self-sacrifice.
Conscience and the divinity within us, have in all ages
borne testimony to its loveliness and grandeur, and history borrows from it her chief splendors.  But Christ
on his cross has taught it with a perfection unknown
before, and his glory consists in the power with which
he breathes it.  Into this spirit, Christ's meanest disciple is expected to drink. How much more the teachers and guides of his church! He who is not moved
with this sublime feature of our religion, who cannot rise
above himself, who cannot, by his own consciousness,
comprehend the kindling energy and solemn joy, which
pain or peril in a noble cause has often inspired, - he,
to whom this language is a mystery, wants one great
mark of his vocation to the sacred office.  Let him




284             ThE CHRESTIAN MINISTREY.
enlist under any standard rather than the cross.  To
preach with power, a man must feel Christianity to be
worthy of the blood which it has cost; and, espousing
it as the chief hope of the human race, must contemn
life's ordinary interests, compared with the glory and
happiness of advancing it.  This spirit of self-exposure
and self-surrender, throws into preachers an  energy
which no other principle can give. In truth, such power
resides in disinterestedness, that no man can understand
his full capacity of thought and feeling, his strength
to do and suffier, untii he gives himself, with a single
heart, to a great and holy cause.  New faculties seem
to be created, and more than human might sometimes
imparted, by a pure fervent love.  Most of us are
probably strangers to the resources of power in our
own breasts, through the weight and pressure of the
chains of selfishness.  We consecrate this institution,
then, to that spirit of martyrdom, of disinterested attachment to the Christian cause, through which it first
triumphed, and for want of which its triumphs are now
slow.  In an age of luxury and self-indulgence, we
would devote these walls to the training of warm, manly,
generous spirits.  May they never shelter the self-seeking slaves of ease and comfort, pupils of Epicurus rather than of Christ.  God send from this place devoted
and efficient friends of Christianity and the human race.
My friends, I have insisted on the need, and illustrated the sources, of power in the ministry.  To this
end, may the institution, in whose behalf we are now
met together, be steadily and sacredly devoted.  I
would say to its guardians and teachers, Let this be
your chief aim. I would say to the students, Keep
this in sight in all your studies.  Never forget your




THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.          285
great vocation; that you are to prepare yourselves for
a strong, deep, and beneficent agency on the minds of
your fellow-beings. Everywhere I see a demand for
the power on which I have now insisted. The cry
comes to me from society and from the church.  The
condition of society needs a more efficient administration of Christianity.  Great and radical changes are
needed in the community to make it Christian.  There
are those indeed, who, mistaking the courtesies and
refinements of civilized life for virtue, see no necessity
of a great revolution in the world.  But civilization,
in hiding the grossness, does not break the power of
evil propensities.  Let us not deceive ourselves.  Multitudes are living with few thoughts of G-od, and of the
true purpose and glory of their being.  Among the
nominal believers in a Deity and in a judgment to come,
sensuality, and ambition, and the love of the world, sit
on their thrones, and laugh to scorn the impotence of
preaching. Christianity has yet a hard war to wage,
and many battles to win; and it needs intrepid, powerful ministers, who will find courage and excitement, not
dismay, in the strength and number of their foes.
Christians, you have seen in this discourse, the purposes and claims of this theological institution.  Offer
your fervent prayers for its prosperity.  Besiege the
throne of mercy in its behalf.  Cherish it as the dearest hope of our churches.  Enlarge its means of usefuilness, and let your voice penetrate its walls, calling
aloud and importunately for enlightened and powerful
teachers.  Thus joining in effort with the directors and
instructors of this seminary, doubt not that God will
here train up ministers worthy to bear his truth to present and future generations.  If on the contrary you




286             THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.
and they slumber, you will have erected these walls.
not to nourish energy, but to be its tomb, not to bear
witness to your zeal, but to be a melancholy monument
of fainting effort and betrayed truth.
But let me not cast a cloud over the prospects of
this day. In hope I began, — with hope I will end.
This institution has noble distinctions, and has afforded
animating pledges.  It is eminently a free institution,
an asylum  from  the spiritual despotism, which, in one
shape or another, overspreads the greatest part of Christendom.  It has already given to the churches a body
of teachers, who, in theological acquisitions and ministerial gifts, need not shrink from comparison with their
predecessors or contemporaries.  I see in it means and
provisions, nowhere surpassed, for training up enlightened, free, magnanimous, self-sacrificing friends of truth!.
In this hope, let us then proceed to the work, which
has brought us together.  With trust in God, with love
to mankind, with unaffected attachment to Christian
truth, with earnest wishes for its propagation through all
lands and its transmission to remotest ages, let us now,
with one heart and one voice, dedicate this edifice to
the One living and true God, to Christ and his Church,
to the instruction and regeneration of the human soul.




THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
DISCOURSE
DELIVEREDI
TO T'HF RELIGIOUS SOCIETY IN FEDERAL-STREET,
BOSTON.
EPHESIANS vi. 1, 2: " Children, obey your parents in the Lord.
for this is right. Honor thy father and thy mother, which is
the first commandment with promise."
FROM  these words I propose to point out the duties of
children to their parents.  My young friends, let me
ask your serious attention.  I wish to explain to you
the honor and obedience which you are required to
render your parents; and to impress you with the importance, excellence, and happiness of this temper and
conduct.
It will be observed, in the progress of this discourse,
that I have chiefly in view the youngest part of my
hearers; but I would not on this account be supposed
to intimate, that those who have reached more advanced
periods of life, are exempted from  the obligation of
honoring their parents.  However old we may be, we
should never forget that tenderness which watched over
our infancy, which listened to our cries before we could




288            THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
articulate our wants, and was never weary with minis
tering to our comfort and enjoyments. There is scarce,
ly any thing more interesting than to see the man retaining the respect and gratitude which belong to the
child; than to see persons, who have come forward
into life, remembering with affection the guides and
friends of their youth, and laboring by their kind and
respectful attention to cheer the declining years, and
support the trembling infirmities, of those whose best
days were spent in solicitude and exertion for their happiness and improvement.  He who suffers any objects
or pursuits to shut out a parent from  his heart, who
becomes so weaned from  the breast which nourished
and the arms which cherished him, as coldly to forsake
a parent's dwelling, and neglect a parent's comfort, not
only renounces the dictates of religion and morality,
but deserves to be cast out from society as a stranger
to the common sensibilities of human nature.
Tn the observations I am now to make, all who have
parents should feel an interest; for some remarks will
apply to all. But I shall principally confine myself to
those, who are so young as to depend on the care and
to live under the eye of their parents; who surround a
parent's table, dwell beneath a parent's roof, and hear
continually a parent's voice. To such the text addresses
itself, " Honor and obey your father and mother."
I shall now attempt to explain and enforce what;s
here required of you.
First, you are required to view and treat your parents
with respect. Your tender, inexperienced age requires
that you think of yourselves with humility, and conduct
yourselves with modesty; that you respect the superior
age and wisdom  and improvements of your parents,




THEI  DT'IES OF CHILDREN.         289
-and observe towards them  a submissive deportment.
Nothing is more unbecoming in you, nothing will ren-der you more unpleasant in the eyes of others, than froward or contemptuous conduct towards your parents.
There are children, and I wish I could say there are
only a few, who speak to their parents with rudeness,
grow sullen at their rebukes, behave -in their presence
as if they deserved no attention, hear them  speak without noticing them, and rather ridicule -than honor them..
There -are many children at the present day, who think
-more highly'of themnselves than of their elders; who
think that their own wishes are first to be.gratified;  who
abuse the' condescension and kindness of their parents,
and treat themn as servants rather than superiors.
Beware, my young friends, lest you grow  up with
t:his assurmning and selfish spirit.  Regard your parents
as kindly given you by God, to support, direct, and
govern you in your present state -of weakness and
inexperience.  Express your respect for them in your
Inanner and conversation.  Do not neglect those outward signs of dependence'and inferiority which suit
your age.  You are young, and you should therefore
take the lowest place, and rather retire than thrust
yourselves forward into notice.  You have much to
learn, and you should therefore hear instead of seeking to be heard.  You are dependent, and you should
therefore csk instead of demancding what you desire;
and you should receive every thing from  your parents
as a favor, and not as a debt.  t do not mean to urge
upon you a slavish fear of your parents.  Love them,
and love them  ardently; but rmingle a sense of their
superiority with your love,  Feel a confidence in their
kindness; but letr not t'lis confidence make you rude
VOL. III.               5




290           T'HE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
and presumptuous, and  lead to indecent familiarity.
Talk to them with openness and freedom; but never
contradict with violence; never answer with passion or
contem.nptL
The Scriptures say,'Cursed be he that setteth light
by his father or his mot.ter."  " The eye that mocketh
at his father, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out,
and the young ravens shall eat it."  The sacred history
teaches ius, that when Solomon, on his throne, saw his
mother approaching him, he rose to meet her, and bowed
himself unto her, and caused a seat to be set for her on
his right hand. Let this wise and great king teach you
to respect your parents.
Seconlldly, You should be grateful to your parents.
Consider how much you owe them. The time has
been,,,nd  it was not a long time past, when you de.
pended wholly on their kindness, when you had no
strength to make a single effort for yourselves, when
you ccadd neither speak, nor walk, and knew not the
use of any of your powers. Had not a parent's arnl
supported you, you must have fallen to the earth and
perished.  Observe with attention the infants which
you so often see, and consider that a little while ago
you were as feeble as they are; you were only a burden
and a care, and you had nothing with which you could
repay your parents' affection.  But did they forsake
you? How many sleepless nights have they been disturbed by your cries! When you were sick, how tenderly did they hang over you!  With what pleasure
have they seen yolu grow up in health to your present
state! and what do you now possess, which you have
not r.ceived from their hands?  God indeed is your
great parent, your best friend, and from him every good




THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.         291
gift descends; but God is pleased to bestow every thing
upon you through the kindness of your parents. To
your parents you owe every comfort; you owe to them
the shelter you enjoy from the rain and cold, the raiment which covers and the food which nourishes you.
While you are seeking amusement, or are employed in
gaining knowledge at school, your parents are toiling
that you may be happy, that your wants be supplied,
that your minds may be improved, that you may grow
up and be useful in the world.  And when you consider
how often you have forfeited all this kindness, and yet
how ready they have been to forgive you, and to continue their favors, ought you not to look upon them
with the tenderest gratitude? What greater monster
can there be than an unthankful child, whose heart is
never warmed and melted by the daily expressions of
parental solicitude; who, instead of requiting his best
friend by his affectionate conduct, is sullen and passionate, and thinks that his parents have done nothing
for him, because they will not do all he desires?   lMy
young friends, your parents' hearts have ached enough
for you already; you should strive from this time, by
your expressions of gratitude and love, to requite their
goodness. Do you ask how you may best express these
feelings of respect and gratitude, which have been enjoined? In answer, I would observe,
Thirdly, That you must make it your study to obey
your parents, to do what they command, and do it cheerfrilly. Your own hearts will tell you that this is a most
natural and proper expression of honor and love.  For
how often do we see children opposing their wills to
the will of their parents; refusing to comply with absolute commands; growing more obstinate, the more they




29'2          THE DUTIES OF'CmLDREN1.
are required to do what they dislike; and at last sulIenl,
and unwillingly obeying, because they can no longer
refuse without exposing themselves to punishment,
Consider, my young firiends, that' by such conduct you.
very much displease God, who has given you parents,
that they may control your passions and train you up
in the way you should go. Consider how nmch better
they can decide for you, than you can for yourselves.
You know but little of the world in which you live.
You hastily catch at every thing which promises youe
pleasure; and unless the authority of a parent should
restrain you, you would soon rush into ruin, without a
thought or a fear. In pursuing your own inclinations,.
your health would be destroyed, your minds would run
waste, you would grow up slothful, selfish, a trouble to
others, and burdensome to yourselves.  Submit, then,
cheerfully to your parents. Have you not experienced
their goodness long enough to know that they wish to
make you happy, even when their commands are most
severe? Prove, then, your sense- of their goodness by
doing cheerfully what they require.  When they oppose
your wishes, do not think that you have more knowledge
than they. Do not receive their commands with a sour,
angry, sullen, look, which says louder than words, that
you obey only because you dare not rebel. If they
deny your requests, do not persist in urging them; but
consider how many requests they have already granted
you. Consider that you have no claimn upon them, and
that it will be base and ungrateful for you, after all
their tenderness, to murmur and complain.  Do not
expect that your parents are to give up every thing to
your wishes; but study to give up every thing to theirs,
Do not wait for them to tlhreaten.; but, when a look tell




TIHE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.        293
you what they want, fly to perform it.  This is the way
in which you can best reward them for all their pains
and labors. In this way you will make their houses
pleasant and cheerful.  But if you are disobedient,
perverse, and stubborn, you will be uneasy yourselves,
and will make all around you unhappy.  You will make
home a place of contention, noise, and anger; and your
best friends will have reason to wish that you had never
been born.  A disobedient child almost always grows
up ill-natured and disobliging to all with whom he is
connected. None love him, and he has no heart to
love any but himself.  If you would be amiable in your
temper and manner, and desire to be beloved, let me
advise you'to begin life with giving up your wills to
your parents.
Fourthly, You must further express your respect,
affection, and gratitude, by doing all in your power to
assist and oblige your parents. Children can very soon
make some return for the kindness they receive. Every
day you can render your parents some little service,
and often save them many cares, and sometimes not a
little expense. There have been children, who in early
life have been great supports to their sick, poor, and
helpless parents.  This is the most honorable way in
which you call be employed. YouI must never think too
highly of yourselves to be unwilling to do any thing for:hose who have done so much for you. You should
never let your amusements take such a hold of your
minds, as to make you slothful, backward, and unwilling, when you are called to serve your parents.
Some children seem to think that they have nothing to
seek but their own pleasure. They will run from every
tak which is imposed on them; and leave their parents
25*




294            THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
to want many comforts, rather than expose themseive~;
to a little trouble.  But consider, had they loved your
no better than you loved theml, how wretched would
have been your state!  There are some children, who
not only refuse to exert themselves for their parents, but
add very much to their cares, give them unnecessary trouble, and, by carelessness, by wasting, by extravagance,
hellp to keep them- in poverty and toil.  Such children>
as. they grow up, instea-d of seeking to provide for them:
selves:, generally grow more and: more burdensome to,
their friends, and lead useless, sluggish, and often prof-.
ligate lives.  My young friends, you- should be asha-ned,
after having given your parents so much pain, to multiply their cares and labors unnecessarily.  You should
learn very early, to be active in pleasing them;, and
active in doing what you can for yourselves.  Do not
waste- all your spirit upon play;. but learn to be useful.
Perhaps the timne is coming, when your parents will
need as much attention from you as you have- received
from them; and you should endeavour to form. such industrious, obliging habits, that you may render their last'
years as happy as they have rendered the first years of
your existence.
Fifthly, You should express your respect for. your
parents, and your sense of their kindness and superiorwisdom, by placing  unreserved confidence in them.
This is a very important part of your duty.  Children
should learn to be lhonest, sincere, and open-hearterd
to their parents.  An artful, hypocritical child is one
of the most unpromising characters in the world.  You
should have no secrets which you are unwilling to disclose to your parents, If you' have done wrong, you
%hould openly confess it, and ask that forgiveness whichl




THE DUTIES OF1 CHILDREN.        295
a parent's heart is ready to bestow.  If you wish to
undertake any thing, ask their consent.  Never begin
any thing in the hope that you can conceal your design.
If you once strive to impose on your parents, you will
be led on, from one step to another, to invent falsehoods, to practise artifice, till you will become con.
temptible and hateful.  You will soon be detected, and
then none will trust you.  Sincerity in a child will make
up for many faults. Of children, he is the worst, who
watches the eyes of his parents, pretends to obey as
long as they see him, but as soon as they have turned
away, does what they have forbidden.  Whatever else
you do, never deceive.  Let your parents always learn
your faults from your own lips; and be assured they
will never love you the less for your openness and sincerity.
Lastly, You must prove your respect and gratitude
to your parents by attending seriously to their instructions and admonitions, and by improving the advantages
they afford you for becoming wise, useful, good, and
happy for ever. I hope, my young friends, that you
hive parents who take care, not only of your bodies,
but your souls; who instruct you in your duty, who talk
to you of your God and Saviour, who teach you to pray
and to read the Scriptures, and who strive to give you
such knowledge, and bring you up in such habits, as
will lead you to usefulness on earth, and to happiness
in heaven.  If you have not, I can only pity you; I
have little hope that I can do you good by what I have
here said.  But if your parents are faithful in instructing
and guiding you, you must prove your gratitude to themr
and to God, by listening respectfully and attentively to
what they say; by shunning the temptations of which




296           THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.
they warn you, and by walking in the paths they mark
out before you. You must labor to answer their hopes
and wishes, by improving in knowledge; by being industrious at school; by living peaceably with your companions; by avoiding all profane and wicked language;
by fleeing bad company; by treating all persons with
respect; by being kind and generous and honest, and
by loving and serving your Father in heaven.  This is
the happiest and most delightful way of repaying the
kindness of your parents. Let them see you growing
up with amiable tempers and industrious habits; let
them see you delighting to do good, and fearing to
offend God; and they will think you have never been
a burden.  Their fears and anxieties about you, will
give place to brighter views.  They will hope to see
you prosperous, respected, and beloved in the present
world.  But if in this they are to be disappointed, if
they are soon to see you stretched on the bed of sickness and death, they will still smile amidst their tears,
and be comforted by the thought that you are the children of God, and that you are going to a Father that
loves you better than they.  If, on the contrary, you
slight and despise their instructions, and suffer your
youth to run waste, you will do much to embitter their
happiness and shorten their days.  Many parents have
gone to the grave broken-hearted by the ingratitude,
perverseness, impiety, and licentiousness of their children.  My young friends, listen seriously to parental
admonition.  Beware, lest you pierce with anguish that
breast on which you have so often leaned. Beware,
lest b) early contempt of instruction, you bring yourselves to shame and misery in this world, and draw on
your heads still heavier ruin in the world beyond the;rave.




THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN.         297
Children, I have now set before you your duties.
iLel me once more beseech you to honor your father
and mother. Ever cling to them with confidence and
love.  Be to them  an honor, an ornament, a solace,
and a support.  Be more than they expect, and if possible be all that they desire. To you they are now looking with an affection which trembles for your safety.
So live, that their eyes may ever fix on you with beams
of hope and joy.  So live, that the recollection of you
may soothe their last hours.  May you now walk by
their side in the steps of the holy Saviour, and through
his grace may you meet again in a better and happier
world.  Amen.








HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
I PETER ii. 17: " Honor all men."
AMONG the many and inestimable blessings of Chris.
tianity, I regard, as not the least, the new sentiment
with which it teaches man to look upon his fellowbeings; the new interest which it awakens in us towards every thing human; the new importance which it
gives to the soul; the new relation which it establishes
between man and man. In this respect, it began a
mighty revolution, which has been silently spreading
itself through society, and which, I believe, is not to
stop, until new ties shall have taken place of those
which have hitherto, in the main, connected the human
race.  Christianity has as yet but begun its work of
reformation.  Under its influences, a new order of society is advancing, surely though slowly; and this beneficent change it is to accomplish in no small measure
by revealing to men their own nature, and teaching
them to "honor all " who partake it.
As yet Christianity has done little, compared with
what it is to do, in establishing the true bond of union
between man and man.  The old bonds of society still
continue in a great degree.  They are instinct, interests




300            HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
force. The true tie, which is mutual respect, calling
forth mutual, growing, never-failing acts of love, is as
yet little known. A new revelation, if I may so speak,
remains to be made; or rather, the truths of the old
revelation in regard to the greatness of human nature,
are to be brought out from  obscurity and neglect.  The
soul is to be regarded with a religious reverence, hitherto unfelt; and the solemn claims of every being to
whomn this divine principle is imparted, are to be established on the ruins of those pernicious principles,
both in church and state, which have so long divided
mankind into the classes of the abject Mbany and the
self-exalting Few.
There is nothing of which men know  so little, as
themselves.  They understand incomparably more of
the surrounding creation, of matter, and of its laws,
than of that spiritual principle, to which matter was
made to be the minister, and without which the outward universe would be worthless.  Of course, no man
can be wholly a stranger to the soul, for the soul is
himself, and he cannot but be conscious of its most
obvious workings.  But it is to most a chaos, a region
shrouded in ever-shifting mists, baffling the eye and
bewildering the imagination.  The affinity of the mind
with God, its moral power, the purposes for which its
faculties were bestowed, its connexion with futurity,
and the dependence of its whole happiness on its own
right action and progress, - these truths, though they
might be expected to absorb us, are to most men little
more than sounds, and to none of us those living realities, which, I trust, they are to become.  That conviction, without which we are all poor, of the unlimited
and immortal nature of the soul, remains in a great




HfONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.           301i
degree to be developed.  Mlen have as yet no just
respect for themselves, and of consequence no just respect for others.  The true bond of society is thus
wanting; and accordingly there is a great deficiency
of Christian benevolence.  There is indeed much instinctive, native benevolence, and this is not to be
despised; but the benevolence of Jesus Christ, which
consists in a calm purpose to suffer, and, if need be, to
die, for our fellow-creatures, the benevolence of Christ
on the cross, which is the true pattern to the Christian,
this is little known; and what is the cause?  It is this.
We see nothing in human beings to entitle them to
such sacrifices; we do not think them worth suffering
for. Why should we be martyrs for beings, who awaken
in us little more of moral interest than the brutes?
I hold, that nothing is to mlake man a true lover of
man, but the discovery of something interesting and
great in human nature.  We must see and feel, that a
human being is something important and of immeasurable importance.  We must see and feel the broad
distance between the spiritual life within us, and the
vegetable or animal life which acts around us.  I cannot
love the flower, however beautiful, with a disinterested
affection, which will make me sacrifice to it my own
prosperity. You will in vain exhort me to attach myself, with my whole strength of affection, to the inferior
animals, however useful or attractive; and why not?
They want the capacity of truth, virtue, and progress.
They want that principle of duty, which alone gives
permanence to a being; and accordingly they soon lose
their individual nature, and go to mingle with the general mass.  A human being deserves a different affection from what we bestow on inferior creatures, for he
VOL. TII.             26




302            HRONOR DUE TO ALL AlEN.
has a rational and moral nature, by which he is to endure
for ever, by which he may achieve an unutterable happiness, or sink into an unutterable woe. He is more
interesting through what is in him, than the earth or
heavens; and the only way to love him aright, is to
catch some glimpse of this immortal power within him.
Until this is done, all charity is little more than instinct;
we shall embrace the great interests of human nature
with coldness.
It may be said, that Christianity has done much to
awaken benevolence, and that it has taught men to call
one another brethren.  Yes, to call one another so; but
has it as yet given the true feeling of brotherhood? We
undoubtedly feel ourselves to be all of one race, and
this is well.  We trace ourselves up to one pair, and
feel the same blood flowing in our veins. But do we
understand our spiritual Brotherhood?  Do we feel
ourselves to be derived from  one Heavenly Parent, in
whose image we are all made, and whose perfection we
may constantly approach?  Do we feel that there is
one divine life in our own and in all souls? This seems
to me the only true bond of man to man. Here is a
tie more sacred, more enduring, than all the ties of this
earth.  Is it felt, and do we in consequence truly honor one another?
Sometimes, indeed, we see men giving sincere, profound, and almost unmeasured respect to their fellowcreatures; but to whom?  To great men; to men distinguished by a broad line from  the multitude; to men
preeminent by genius, force of character, daring effort,
high station, brilliant success. To such, honor is given;
but this is not to "'honor all men "; and the homage
paid to such, is generally unfriendly to that Christian




HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.           303
estimate of human beings for which I am now pleading.
The great are honored at the expense of their race.
They absorb and concentrate the world's admiration,
and their less gifted fellow-beings are thrown by their
brightness into a deeper shade, and passed over with a
colder contempt.  Now I have no desire to derogate
from the honor paid to great men, but I say, Let them
not rise by the depression of the multitude.  I say, that
great men, justly regarded, exalt our estimate of the
human race, and bind us to the multitude of men more
closely; and when they are not so regarded, when they
are converted into idols, when they serve to wean our
interest from ordinary men, they corrupt us, they sever
the sacred bond of humanity which should attach us to
all, and our characters become vitiated by our very admiration of greatness.  The true view of great men is,
that they are only examples and manifestations of our
common nature, showing what belongs to all souls,
though unfolded as yet only in a few. The light which
shines from them is, after all, but a faint revelation of
the power which is treasured up in every human being.
They are not prodigies, not miracles, but natural developements of the human soul.  They are indeed as
Inen among children, but the children have a principle
of growth which leads to manhood.
That great men and the multitude of minds are of
one family, is apparent, I think, in. the admiration
which the great inspire into the multitude.  A sincere,
enlightened admiration always springs from something
congenial in him who feels it with him who inspires it.
He that can understand and delight in greatness, was
created to partake of it; the germ is in him; and sometimes this admiration, in what we deem inferior minds,




304            HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
discovers a nobler spirit than belongs to the great man
who awakens it; for sometimes the great man is so
absorbed in his own greatness as to admire no other;
and I should not hesitate to say, that a common mind,
which is yet capable of a generous admiration, is destined to rise higher than the man of eminent capacities,
who can enjoy no power or excellence but his own.
/When I hear of great men, I wish not to separate them
fiom their race, but to blend them with it.  I esteem
it no small benefit of the philosophy of mind, that it
teaches us that the elements of the greatest thoughts
of the man of genius, exist in his humbler brethren,
and that the faculties which the scientific exert in the
profoundest discoveries, are precisely the same with
those which common men employ in the daily labors
of life.
To show the grounds on which the obligation to
honor all men rests, I might take a minute survey of
that human nature which is common to all, and set
forth its claims to reverence.  But, leaving this wide
range, I observe that there is one principle of the soul,
which makes all men essentially equal, which places
all on a level as to means of happiness, which may
place in the first rank of human beings those who are
the most depressed in worldly condition, and which
therefore gives the most depressed a title to interest
and respect.  I refer to the Sense of Duty, to the
power of discerning and doing right, to the moral and
religious principle, to the inward monitor which speaks
in the name of God, to the capacity of virtue or ex.
cellence.  This is the great gift of God.  We can conceive no greater.  In seraph and archangel, we can




HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.            305
conceive no higher energy than the power of virtue, or
the power of forming themselves after the will and moral
perfections of God. This power breaks down all barriers between the seraph and the lowest human being;
it makes them brethren.  Whoever has derived from
God this perception and capacity of rectitude, has a
bond of union with the spiritual world, stronger than all
the ties of nature.  He possesses a principle which, if
he is faithful to it, must carry him forward for ever, and
insures to him the improvement and happiness of the
highest order of beings.
It is this moral power, which makes all men essentially equal, which annihilates all the distinctions of this
world.  Through this, the ignorant and the poor may
become the greatest of the race; for the greatest is he
who is most true to the principle of duty.  It is not
improbable, that the noblest human beings are to be
found in the least favored conditions of society, among
those, whose names are never uttered beyond the narrow circle in which they toil and suffer, who have but
" two mites " to give away, who have perhaps not even
that, but who "' desire to be fed with the crumbs which
fall from the rich man's table; " for in this class may
be found those, who have withstood the severest temptation, who have practised the most arduous duties, who
have confided in God under the heaviest trials, who have
been most wronged and have forgiven most; and these
are the great, the exalted.  It matters nothing, what the
particular duties are to which the individual is called, —
how minute or obscure in their outward form.  Greatness in God's sight lies, not in the extent of the sphere
which is filled, or of the effect which is produced, biut
altogether in the power of virtue in the soul, in the en26 *




306           iHONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
ergy with which God's will is chosen, with which trial iX
borne, and goodness loved and pursued.
The sense of duty is the greatest gift of God.  The
Idea of Right is the primary and the highest revelation
of God to the human mind, and all outward revelations
are founded on and addressed to it.  All mysteries of
science and theology fade away before the grandeur of
the simple perception of duty, which dawns on the mind
of the little child. That perception brings him into the
moral kingdom  of God.  That lays on him  an everlasting bond.  He, in whom  the conviction of duty is
unfolded, becomes subject from that moment to a law,
which no power in the universe can abrogate. He forms
a new and indissoluble connexion with God, that of an
accountable being.  He begins to stand before an inward
tribunal, on the decisions of which his whole happiness
rests; he hears a voice, which, if faithfully followed,
will guide him to perfection, and in neglecting which he
brings upon himself inevitable misery.  We little understand the solemnity of the moral principle in every
human mind. We think not how awful are its functions.
We forget that it is the germ of immortality,  Did we
understand it, we should look with a feeling of reverence
on every being to whom it is given.
Having shown in the preceding remarks, that there is
a foundation in the human soul for the honor enjoined in
our text towards all men, I proceed to observe, that, if
twe look next into Christianity, we shall find this duty
enforced by new and still more solemn considerations.
T'his whole religion is a testimony to the worth of man
in the sight of God, to the importance of human nature,
to the infinite purposes for which we were framed. God
is there set forth, as sending to the succour of his humaD




HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.             307
Family, his Beloved Son, the bright image and representative of his own perfections; and sending him, not
simply to roll away a burden of pain and punishment
(for this, however magnified in systems of theology, is
not his highest work), but to create men after that divine
image which he himself bears, to purify the soul from
every stain, to communicate to it new power over evil,
and to open before it Immortality as its aim and destination,- Immortality, by which we are to understand,
not merely a perpetual, but an ever-improving and celestial being.  Such are the views of Christianity.  And
these blessings it proffers, not to a few, not to the educated, not to the eminent, but to all human beings, to
the poorest, and the most fallen; and we know, that,
through the power of its promises, it has in not a few instances raised the most fallen to true greatness, and given
them in their present virtue and peace, an earnest of the
Heaven which it unfolds.  Such is Christianity.  Men,
viewed in the light of this religion, are beings cared for
by God, to whom he has given his Son, on whom he
pours forth his Spirit, and whom he has created for the
highest good in the universe, for participation in his own
perfections and happiness.  My friends, such is Christi.
anity.  Our skepticism  as to our own nature cannot
quench thebright light which that religion sheds on the
soul and on the prospects of mankind; and just as far
as we receive its truth, we shall honor all men.
I know I shall be told that Christianity speaks of man
as a sinner, and thus points him out to abhorrence and
scorn.  I know it speaks of human sin, but it does not
speak of this as indissolubly bound up with the soul, as
entering into the essence of human nature, but as a temprary stain, which it calls on us to wash away.  Its




308            HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
greatest doctrine is, that the most lost are recoverable$
that the most fallen may rise, and that there is no height
of purity, power, felicity in the universe, to which the
guiltiest mind may not, through penitence, attain. Christianity indeed gives us a deeper, keener feeling of the
guilt of mankind, than any other religion.  By the revelation of perfection in the character of Jesus Christ, it
shows us how imperfect even the best men are.  But
it reveals perfection in Jesus, not for our discouragement, bhut as our model, reveals it only that we may
thirst for and approach it.  From  Jesus I learn what
man is to become, that is, if true to this new light; and
true he may be.
Christianity, I have said, shows man as a sinner, but
I nowhere meet in it those dark views of our race
which would make us shrink from it as from a nest of
venomous reptiles.  According to the courteous style
of theology, man has been called half brute and half
devil.  But this is a perverse and pernicious exaggeration.  The brute, as it is called, that is, animal, appetite
is indeed strong in human beings; but is there nothing
within us but appetite? Is there nothing to war with it?
Does this constitute the essence of the soul?  Is it not
rather an accident, the result of the mind's union with
matter? Is not its spring in the body, and may it not
be expected to perish with the body? In addition to
animal propensities, I see the tendency to criminal excess in all men's passions.  I see not one only, but
many Tempters in every human heart.  Nor am I insensible to the fearful power of these enemies to our
virtue.  But is there nothing in man but temptation, but
propensity to sin? Are there no counterworking powers? no attractions in virtue? no tendencies to God 




HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.             309
ao sympathies with sorrow? no reverence for greatness?
no moral conflicts? no triumphs of principle?  This
very strength of temptation seems to me to be one of
the indications of man's greatness.  It shows a being
framed to make progress through difficulty, suffering,
and conflict; that is, it shows a being designed for the
highest order of virtues; for we all feel by an unerring
instinct, that virtue is elevated in proportion to the obstacles which it surmounts, to the power with which it is
chosen and held fast.  I see men placed by their Creator on a field of battle; but, compassed with peril that
they may triumph over it; and, though often overborne,
still summoned to new efforts, still privileged to approach
the Source of all power, and to seek c" grace in time of
need," and still addressed in tones of encouragement by
a celestial Leader, who has himself fought and conquered, and holds forth to them his own crown of righteous.
ness and victory.
From these brief views of human nature and of
Christianity, you will see the grounds of the solemn obligation of honoring all men, of attaching infinite importance to human nature, and of respecting it, even in its
present infant, feeble, tottering state.  This sentiment
of honor or respect for human beings, strikes me more
and more as essential to the Christian character.  I conceive that a more thorough understanding and a more
faithful culture of this, would do very much to carry forward the church and the world.  In truth, I attach to
this sentiment such importance, that I measure by its
progress the progress of society.  I judge of public
events very much by their bearing on this.  I estimate
political revolutions, chiefly by their tendency to exalt
men's conceptions of their nature, and to inspire them




310            HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
with respect for one another's claims.  The present
stupendous movements in Europe naturally suggest, and
almost force upon me, this illustration of the importance
which I have given to the sentiment enjoined in our
text. Allow me to detain you a few moments on this
topic.
What is it, then, I ask, which makes the present
revolutionary movement abroad so interesting? I answer, that I see in it the principle of respect for human
nature and for the human race, developing itself more
powerfully, and this to me constitutes its chief interest.
I see in it proofs, indications, that the mind is awakening
to a consciousness of what it is, and of what it is made
for. In this movement I see man becoming to himself a
higher object.  I see him attaining to the conviction of
the equal and indestructible rights of every human being.
I see the dawning of that great principle, that the individual is not made to be the instrument of others, but
to govern himself by an inward law, and to advance
towards his proper perfection; that he belongs to himself and to God, and to no human superior. I know,
indeed, that, in the present state of the world, these conceptions are exceedingly unsettled and obscure; and in
truth, little effort has hitherto been made to place them
in a clear light, and to give them a definite and practical
form in men's minds.  The multitude know not with
any distinctness  what they want.  Imagination, unschooled by reason and experience, dazzles them with
bright but baseless visions.  They are driven onward
with a perilous violence, by a vague consciousness of not
having found their element; by a vague yet noble faith
in a higher good than they have attained; by impatience
under restraints, which they feel to be degrading.  In




HONOR DUE TO ALL MrN.i            311
this violence, however, there is nothing strange, nor
ought it to discourage us.  It is, I believe, universally
true, that great principles, in their first developement,
manifest themselves irregularly.  It is so in religion. In
history we often see religion, especially after long depression, breaking out in vehemence and enthusiasm,
sometimes stirring up bloody conflicts, and through
struggles establishing a calmer empire over society.  In
like manner, political history shows us, that men's consciousness of their rights and essential equality has at
first developed itself passionately.  Still the consciousness is a noble one, and the presage of a better social state.
Am I asked, what I hope from the present revolutionary movements in Europe? I answer, that I hope
a good which includes all others, and which almost hides
all others from my view. I hope the subversion of institutions, by which the true bond between man and man
has been more or less dissolved, by which the will of
one or a few has broken down the will, the heart, the
conscience of the many; and I hope that, in the place
of these, are to grow up institutions, which will express,
cherish, and spread far and wide a just respect for human nature, which will strengthen in men a consciousness
of their powers, duties, and rights, which will train the
individual to moral and religious independence, which
will propose as their end the elevation of all orders of
the community, and which will give full scope to the
best minds in this work of general improvement.  I do
not say, that I expect it to be suddenly realized.  The
sun, which is to bring on a brighter day, is rising in thick
and threatening clouds.  Perhaps the minds of men
were never more unquiet than at the present moment.




312           1HoNOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
Still I do not despair.  That a higher order of ideas or
principles is beginning to be unfolded; that a wider phib
lanthropy is beginning to triumph over the distinctions of
ranks and nations; that a new feeling of what is due to
the ignorant, poor, and depraved, has sprung up; that
the right of every human being to such an education as
shall call forth his best faculties, and train him more and
more to control himself, is recognised as it never was
before; and that government is more and more regarded
as intended not to elevate the few, but to guard the rights
of all; that these great revolutions in principle have
commenced and are spreading, who can deny? and to
me they are prophetic of an improved condition of human nature and human affairs. -  0, that this melioration might be accomplished without blood! As a Christian, I feel a misgiving, when I rejoice in any good,
however great, for which this fearful price has been paid.
In truth, a good so won is necessarily imperfect and generally transient.  War may subvert a despotism, but
seldom builds up better institutions.  Even when joined,
as in our own history, with high principles, it inflames
and leaves behind it passions, which make liberty a feverish conflict of jealous parties, and which expose a
people to the tyranny of faction under the forms of freedom.  Few things impair men's reverence for human
nature, more than war; and did I not see other and holier influences than the sword, working out the regeneration of the race, I should indeed despair.
In this discourse I have spoken of the grounds and
importance of that honor or respect which is due from
us, and elljoined on us, towards all human beings.  The
various forms, in which this principle is to be exercised
or manifested, I want time to enlarge on.  I would only




HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.            313
say, o "Honor all men."  Honor man, from  the beginning to the end of his earthly course. Honor the
child. Welcome into being the infant, with a feeling
of its mysterious grandeur, with the feeling, that an
immortal existence has begun, that a spirit has been
kindled which is never to be quenched.  Honor the
child.   On this principle, all good education rests.
Never shall we learn to train up the child, till we take
it in our arms, as Jesus did, and feel distinctly that
"' of such is the -kingdom  of heaven."  In that short
sentence is taught the spirit of the true system  of education; and for want of understanding it, little effectual
aid, I fear, is yet given to the heavenly principle in the
infant soul. -  Again.  Honor the poor.  This sentiment of respect is essential to improving the connexion
between the more and less prosperous conditions of
society.  This alone makes beneficence truly godlike.
Without it, almsgiving degrades the receiver.  We
must learn how slight and shadowy are the distinctions
between us and the poor; and that the last in outward
condition may be first in the best attributes of humanity.
A  fraternal union, founded on this deep conviction,
and intended to lift up and strengthen the exposed and
tempted poor, is to do infinitely more for that suffering
class, than all our artificial associations; and till Christianity shall have breathed into us this spirit of respect
for our nature, wherever it is found, we shall do them
little good.  I conceive, that in the present low state
of Christian virtue, we little apprehend the power which
might be exerted over the fallen and destitute, by a benevolence which should truly, thoroughly recognise in
them the image of God.
Perhaps none of us have yet heard or can compreVOL. Iniu             27




314            HONOR DUE TO ALL MEN.
hend the tone of voice, in which a man, thoroughly impressed with this sentiment, would speak to a fellowcreature.  It is a language hardly known on earth; and
no eloquence, I believe, has achieved such wonders as
it is destined to accomplish.  I must stop, though I
have but begun the application of the principle which
I have urged.  I will close as I began, with saying,
that the great revelation which man now needs, is a
revelation of man to himself.  The faith which is most
wanted, is a faith in what we and our fellow-beings
may become, a faith in the divine germor principle in
every soul.  In regard to most of what are called the
mysteries of religion, we may innocently be ignorant.
But the mystery within ourselves, the mystery of our
spiritual, accountable, immortal nature, it behoves us
to explore.  Happy are they who have begun to penetrate it, and in whom it has awakened feelings of awe
towards themselves, and of deep interest and honor
towards their fellow-creatures.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
ROMANS i. 16: "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ."
PART I.
THESE words of Paul are worthy of his resolute and
disinterested spirit.  In uttering them  he was not an
echo of the multitude, a servile repeater of established
doctrines. The vast majority around him were ashamed
of Jesus.  The cross was then coupled with infamy.
Christ's name was scorned as a malefactor's, and to
profess his religion was to share his disgrace.  Since
that time what striking changes have occurred    The
cross now hangs as an ornament from the neck of beauty.
It blazes on the flags of navies, and the standards of
armies. Millions bow before it in adoration, as if it were
a shrine of the divinity.  Of course, the temptation to
be ashamed of Jesus is very much diminished.  Still it
is not wholly removed.  Much of the homage now paid
to Christianity is outward, political, worldly, and paid
to its corruptions much more than to its pure and lofty
spirit; and accordingly its conscientious and intrepid
friends must not think it a strange thing to be encountered with occasional coldness or reproach.  We may




316          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
still be tempted to be ashamed of our religion, by being
thrown among skeptics, who deny and deride it. We
may be tempted to be ashamed of the simple and rational doctrines of Christ, by being brought into connexion with narrow zealots, who enforce their dark and
perhaps degrading peculiarities as essential to salvation.
VWTe may be tempted to be ashamed of his pure, meek,
and disinterested precepts, by being thrown among the
licentious, self-seeking, and vindictive.  Against these
perils we should all go armed.  To be loyal to truth
and conscience under such trials, is one of the signal
proofs of virtue.  No man deserves the name of Christian, but he who adheres to his principles amidst the
unbelieving, the intolerant, and the depraved.
"I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ." So
said Paul.  So would I say.  Would to God that I
could catch the spirit as well as the language of the
Apostle, and bear my testimony to Christianity with the
same heroic resolution. Do any ask, why I join in this
attestation to the gospel?  Some of my reasons I propose now to set before you; and in doing so, I ask the
privilege of speaking, as the Apostle has done, in the
first person; of speaking in my own name, and of laying
open my own mind in the most direct language. There
are cases, in which the ends of public discourse may
be best answered by the frank expression of individual
feeling; and this mode of address, when adopted with
such views, ought not to be set down to the account
of egotism.
I proceed to state the reasons why I am not ashamed
of the gospel of Christ; and I begin with one so impor
tant, that it will occupy the present discourse.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.        317
1 am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because
it is true.  This is my first reason.  The religion is
true, and no consideration but this could induce me to
defend it. I adopt it, not because it is popular, for false
and ruinous systems have enjoyed equal reputation; nor
because it is thought to uphold the order of society, for
I believe that nothing but truth can be permanently
useful.  It is true; and I say this not lightly, but after
deliberate examination.  I am not repeating the accents
of the nursery.  I do not affirm the truth of Christianity, because I was so taught before I could inquire, or
because I was brought up in a community pledged to
this belief.  It is not unlikely, that my faith and zeal
will be traced by some to these sources; and believing
such imputations to be groundless, fidelity to the cause
of truth binds me to repel them.  The circumstance of
having been born and educated under Christianity, so
far from disposing me to implicit faith, has often been
to me the occasion of serious distrust of our religion.
On observing how common it is for men of all countries
and names, whether Christians, Jews, or Mahometans,
to receive the religion of their fathers, I have again
and again asked myself, whether I too was not a slave,
whether I too was not blindly walking in the path of
tradition, and yielding myself as passively as others to
an hereditary faith.  I distrust and fear the power of
numbers and of general opinion over my judgment;
and few things incite me more to repel a doctrine than
intolerant attempts to force it on my understanding.
Perhaps my Christian education and connexions have
inclined me to skepticism, rather than bowed my mind
to authority.
It may still be said, that the pride and prejudices
27 *




318           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
and motives of interest, which belong to my profession
as a Christian minister, throw a suspiciousness over
my reasoning and judgment on the present subject.  I
reply, that to myself I seem as free from biases of this
kind, as the most indifferent person.  I have no priestly
prepossessions.  I know and acknowledge the corruptions and perversions of the ministerial office from the
earliest age of the church.   I reprobate the tyranny
whlich it exercises so often over the human mind.  I
recognise no peculiar sanctity in those who sustain it.
I think, then, that I come to the examination of Christianity with as few blinding partialities as any man. I
indeed claim  no exemption from  error; I ask no implicit faith in my conclusions; I care not how jealousiy
and thoroughly my arguments are sifted.  I only ask,
that I may not be prejudged as a servile or interested
partisan of Christianity.  I ask that I may be heard as
a friend of truth, desirous to (id my fellow-creatures in
determining a question of great and universal concern.
I appear as the advocate of Christianity, solely because
it approves itself to my calmest reason as a revelation
from  God, and as the purest, brightest light which He
has shed on the human mind. I disclaim all other motives. No policy, no vassalage to opinion, no dread
of reproach even from the good, no private interest, no
desire to uphold a useful superstition, nothing in short
but a deliberate conviction of the truth of Christianity,
induces me to appear in its ranks. I should be ashamed
of it, did I not believe it true.
In discussing this subject, I shall express my convictions strongly; I shall speak of infidelity as a gross
and perilous error.  But in so doing,' beg not to be




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.           319
uanderstood as passing sentence on the character of individual unbelievers. I shall show that the Christian
religion is true, is from God; but I do not therefore
conclude, that all who reject it are the enemies of God,
and are to be loaded with reproach. I would uphold
the truth without ministering to uncharitableness.  The
criminality, the damnable guilt of unbelief in all imaginable circumstances, is a position which I think untenable; and persuaded as I am, that it prejudices the
cause of Christianity, by creating an antipathy between
its friends and opposers, which injures both, and drives
the latter into more determined hostility to the truth,
I think it worthy of a brief consideration in this stage
of the discussion.
I lay it down as a principle, that unbelief, considered
in itself, has no moral quality, is neither a virtue nor
a vice, but must receive its character, whether good or
bad, from the dispositions or motives which produce or
pervade it.  Mere acts of the understanding are neither
right nor wrong.  When I speak of faith as a holy or
virtuous principle, I extend the term  beyond its primitive meaning, and include in it not merely the assent,of the intellect, but the disposition or temper by which
this assent is determined, and which it is suited to confirm; and I attach as broad a signification to unbelief,
when I pronounce it a crime.  The truth is, that the
human mind, though divided by our philosophy into
many distinct capacities, seldom  or never exerts them
separately, but generally blends them in one act.  Thus
in forming a judgment, it exerts the will and affections,
or the moral principles of our nature, as really as the
power of thought.  Men's passions and interests mix
with, and are expressed in, the decisions of the intel



320           EVIDENCES OF CIRISTIANITr.
lect. In the Scriptures, which use language freely, and
not with philosophical strictness, faith and unbelief are
mental acts of this complex character, or joint products
of the understanding and heart; and on this account
alone, they are objects of approbation or reproof.  In
these views, I presume, reflecting Christians of every
name agree.
According to these views, opinions cannot be laid
down as unerring and immutable signs of virtue and
vice.  The very same opinion may be virtuous in one
man and vicious in another, supposing it, as is very
possible, to have originated in different states of mind~
For example, if through -envy and malignity I should
rashly seize on the slightest proofs of guilt in my neighbour, my judgment of his criminality would be morally
wrong.  Let another man arrive at the same conclusion, in consequence of impartial inquiry and love of
truth, and his decision would be morally right.  Still
more, according to these views, it is possible for the
belief of Christianity to be as criminal as unbelief. Undoubtedly the reception of a system, so pure in spirit
and tendency as the gospel, is to be regarded in general
as a favorable sign.  But let a man adopt this religion,
because it will serve his interest and popularity; let
him  shut his mind against objections to it, lest they
should shake his faith in a gainful system; let him
tamper with his intellect, and for base and selfish ends
exhaust its strength in defence of the prevalent faith,
and he is just as criminal in believing, as another would
be in rejecting Christianity under the same bad impulses.  Our religion is at this moment adopted, and
passionately defended by vast multitudes, on the ground
of the very same pride, worldliness, love of popularity,




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         321
and blind devotion to hereditary prejudices, which led
the Jews and Heathens to reject it in the primitive age;
and the faith of the first is as wanting in virtue, as was
the infidelity of the last.
To judge of the character of faith and unbelief, we
must examine the times and the circumstances in which
they exist.  At the first preaching of the gospel, to believe on Christ was a strong proof of an upright mind;
to enlist among his followers, was to forsake ease, honor,
and wordly success; to confess him was an act of signal
loyalty to truth, virtue, and God.  To believe in Christ
at the present morlent has no such significance.  To
confess him argues no moral courage.  It may even betray a servility and worldliness of mind. These remarks
apply in their spirit to unbelief.  At different periods,
and in different conditions of society, unbelief may express very different states of mind.  Before we pronounce it a crime, and doom it to perdition, we ought to
know the circumstances under which it has sprung up,
and to inquire with candor whether they afford no palliation or defence.  When Jesus Christ was on earth,
when his miracles were wrought before men's eyes, when
his voice sounded in their ears, when not a shade of
doubt could be thrown over the reality of his supernatural works, and not a human corruption had mingled with
his doctrine, there was the strongest presumption against
the uprightness and the love of truth of those who re —
jected him.  He knew too the hearts and the lives of
those who surrounded him, and saw distinctly in their
envy, ambition, worldliness, sensuality, the springs of
their unbelief; and accordingly he pronounced it a
crime.  Since that period, what changes have taken
place! Jesus Christ has left the world.  His miracles




322           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
are events of a remote age, and the proofs of therny,
though abundant, are to many perfectly unknown; and.
what is incomparably more important, his religion has
undergone corruption, adulteration, disastrous change,
and its likeness to its Founder is in no small degree effaced.  The clear, consistent, quickening truth, which
came firom the lips of Jesus, has been exchanged for a
hoarse jargon and vain babblings.  The stream, so pure
at the fountain, has been polluted and poisoned through
its whole course.  Not only has Christianity been overwhelmed by absurdities, bLut by impious doctrines, which
have made the Universal Father, now a weak and vain
despot, to be propitiated by formls and flatteries, and
now an almighty torturer, foreordaining multitudes of his
creatures to guilt, and then glorifying his justice by their
everlasting woe.  When I think what Christianity has
become in the hands of politicians and priests, how it
has been shaped into a weapon of power, how it has
crushed the human soul for ages, how it has struck the
intellect with palsy and haunted the imagination with superstitious phantoms, how it has broken whole nations to
the yoke, and frowned on every free thought; when I
think how, under almost every formn of this religion, its
ministers have taken it into their own keeping, have
hewn and compressed it into the shape of rigid creeds,
and have then pursued by menaces of everlasting woe
whoever should question the divinity of these works of
their hands; when I consider, in a word, how, under
such influences, Christianity has been and still is exhibited, in forms which shock alike the reason, conscience,
and heart, I feel deeply, painfully, what a different system  it is. from that which Jesus taught, and I dare not
apply to unbelief the terms of condemnation which he,
longed to the infidelity of the primitive age.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         323
Perhaps I ought to go further.  Perhaps I ought to
say, that to reject Christianity under some of its corruptions is rather a virtue than a crime.  At the present
moment, I would ask, whether it is a vice to doubt the
truth of Christianity, as it is manifested in Spain and
Portugal? When a patriot in those benighted countries,
who knows Christianity only as a bulwark of despotism,
as a rearer of inquisitions, as a stern jailer imrmuring
wretched women in the convent, as an executioner
stained and reeking with the blood of the friends of freedom; I say, when the patriot, who sees in our religion
tle instrument of these crimes and woes, believes and
affirms that it is not from God, are we authorized to
charge his unbelief on dishonesty and corruption of
mind, and to brand him as a culprit?  May it not be
that the spirit of Christianity in his heart emboldens him
to protest with his lips against whlat bears the name?
And if he thus protest, through a deep sympathy with
the oppression and sufferings of his race, is he not nearer the kingdom of God than the priest and inquisitor
who boastingly and exclusively assume the Christian
name? Jesus Christ has told us, that ": this is the condemnation " of the unbelieving, " that they love darkness rather than light;" and who does not see, that this
ground of condemnation is removed, just in proportion
as the light is quenched, or Christian truth is buried in
darkness and debasing error?
I know I shall be told that a man in the circumstances
now supposed, would still be culpable for his unbelief,
because the Scriptures are within his reach, and these
are sufficient to guide him to the true doctrines of Christ.
But in the countries of which I have spoken, the Scriptures are not common; and if they were, I apprehend




324           EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY
that we should task human strength too severely, in requiring it, under every possible disadvantage, to gain the
truth from this source alone.  A man, born and brought
up in the thickest darkness, and amidst the grossest corruptions of Christianity, accustomed to hear the Scriptures
disparaged, accustomed to connect false ideas with their
principal terms, and wanting our most common helps of
criticism, can hardly be expected to detach from the
mass of error which bears the name of the Gospel, the
simple principles of the primitive faith.  Let us not exact too much of our fellow-creatures.  In our zeal for
Christianity, let us not forget its spirit of equity and
mercy. -In these remarks I have taken an extreme
case.  I have supposed a man subjected to the greatest
disadvantages in regard to the knowledge of Christianity.
But obstacles less serious may exculpate the unbeliever.
In truth, none of us can draw the line which separates
between innocence and guilt in this particular.  To
measure the responsibility of a man, who doubts or denies Christianity, we must know the history of his mind,
his capacity of judgment, the early influences and prejudices to which he was exposed, the forms under which
the religion and its proofs first fixed his thoughts, and
the opportunities since enjoyed of eradicating errors,
which struck root before the power of trying them was
unfolded.  We are not his judges.  At another and an
unerring tribunal he must give account.
I cannot, then, join in the common cry against infidelity as the sure mark of a corrupt mind.  That unbelief often has its origin in evil dispositions, I cannot
doubt.  The character of the unbeliever often forces us
to acknowledge, that he rejects Christianity to escape its
rebukes; that its purity is its chief offence; that he




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          325
seeks infidelity as a refuge from  fear and virtuous restraint.  But to impute these unholy motives to a man
of pure life, is to judge rashly, and it may be unrighteously.  I cannot look upon unbelief as essentially and
unfailingly a crime.  But I do look upon it as among
the greatest of calamities.  It is the loss of the chief aid
of virtue, of the mightiest power over temptation, of the
most quickening knowledge of God, of the only unfailing light, of the only sure hope.  The unbeliever
would gain unspeakably by parting with every possession
for the truth which he doubts or rejects.  And how
shall we win-M Im to the faith?  Not by reproach, by
scorn, by tones of superiority; but by paying due respect to his understanding, his virtues, and his right of
private judgment; by setting before him Christianity in
its simple majesty, its reasonableness, and wonderful
adaptation to the wants of our spiritual nature; by exhibiting its proofs without exaggeration, yet in their full
strength; and, above all, by showing in our own characters and lives, that there is in Christianity a power to
purify, elevate, and console, which can be found in no
human teaching.  These are the true instruments of
conversion.  The ignorant and superstitious may indeed
be driven into a religion by menace and reproach.  But
ite reflecting unbeliever cannot but distrust a cause
which admits such weapons.  He must be reasoned
with as a man, an equal, and a brother.  Perhaps we
may silence him for a time, by spreading through the
community a fanatical excitement, and a persecuting
hatred of infidelity.  But as by such processes Christi
anity would be made to take a more unlovely and irrational form, its secret foes would be multiplied; its
brightest evidence would be dimmed, its foundation
VOL. III.              28




326           EVIDENCES -OF CHRISTIANITY.
sapped, its energy impaired; and whenever the time
should arrive for throwing off the mask (and that time
would come), we should learn, that in the very ranks of
its nominal disciples, there had been trained a host of
foes, who would burn to prostrate the intolerant faith,
which had so long sealed their lips, and trampled on the
rights and freedom of the human mind.
According to these views, I do not condemn the unbeliever, unless he bear witness against himself by an
immoral and irreligious life. It is not given me to search
his heart.  But this power is given to himself, and as a
friend, I call upon him to exert it; I ask him to look
honestly into his own mind, to question his past life, and
to pronounce impartial sentence on the causes of his unbelief. Let him ask himself, whether he has inquired
into the principles and proofs of Christianity deliberately
and in the love of truth; whether the desire to discover
and fulfil his duties to God and his fellow-creatures has
governed his examination; whether he has surrendered
himself to no passions or pursuits which religion and
conscience rebuke, and which bar the mind and sear the
heart against the truth.  If, thus self-questioned, his
heart acquit him, let no man condemn him, and let him
heed no man's condemnation. But if conscience bear
witness against him, he has cause to suspect and dread
his unbelief.  He has reason to fear, that it is the fruit
of a depraved mind, and that it will ripen and confirm
the depravity from which it sprung.
I know that there are those, who will construe what
they will call my lenity towards unbelief, into treachery
towards Christianity.  There are those who think, that
unless skepticism  be ranked among the worst crimes,
and the infidel be marked out for abhorrence and dread,




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY          327
the multitude of men will lose their hold on the gospel.
An opinion more discreditable to Christianity cannot
easily be advanced by itsfriends.  It virtually admits,
that the proofs of our religion, unless examined under
the influence of terror, cannot work conviction; that
the gospel cannot be left, like other subjects, to the
calm and unbiassed judgment of mankind. It discovers
a distrust of Christianity, with which I have no sympathy. And here I would remark, that the worst abuses
of our religion have sprung from this cowardly want of
confidence in its power.  Its friends have feared, that
it could not stand without a variety of artificial buttresses   They have imagined, that men must now be
bribed into faith by annexing to it temporal privileges,
now driven into it by menaces and inquisitions, now
attracted by gorgeous forms, now awed by mysteries
and superstitions; in a word, that the multitude must
be imposed upon, or the religion will fall. I have no
such distrust of Christianity; I believe in its invincible
powers.  It is founded in our nature.  It meets our
deepest wants.  Its proofs as well as principles are
adapted to the common understandings of men, and
need not to be aided by appeals to fear or any other
passion, which would discourage inquiry or disturb the
judgment.  I fear nothing for Christianity, if left to
speak in its own tones, to approach men with its unveiled, benignant countenance.  I do fear much from
the weapons of policy and intimidation, which  are
framed to uphold the imagined weakness of Christian
truthl.
I now come to the great object of this discourse, -
an exhibition of the proofs of Christianity; — and I be




328           EPEVIDENCES OF CHtISTIANITY
gin with a topic which is needed to prepare some, i
not many,. to estimate these proofs fairly, and according
to their true weight.  I begin with the position, That
there is nothing in the general idea of Revelation at
which Reason ought to take offence, nothing inconsistent with any established truth, or with our best views
of God and Nature.  TI his topic meets a prejudice notvery rare.  I repeat it then, Revelation is nothing
incredible, nothing which carries contradiction on its
face, nothing at war with any great principles of reasons
or experience.  On hearing of God's teaching us by
some other means than the fixed order of nature, we
ought not to be surprised, nor ought the suggestion to
awaken resistance inh our minds.
Revelation is not at war with nature.  From  the.necessity of the case, the earliest instruction must have
come to human beings from this source. If our race had
a beginning (and nothing but the insanity of Atheism,
can doubt this), then its first members, created as they
were without humnan parentage, and having no resource
in the experience of fellow-creatures who had preceded
them, required an immediate teaching from their Creator; they would have perished without it. Revelation.
was the very commencement of human history, the
foundation of all later knowledge and improvement.  It
was an essential part of the course of Providence, and
must not then be regarded as a discord in. God's general system.
Revelation is not at war with nature. Nature prompts
us to expect it from  the relation which God bears to
the human race.  The relation of Creator is the most
intimate which can subsist; and it leads us to anticipate
a. free and affectionate intercourse with the creature,




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         329
That the Universal Father should be bound by a parental interest to his offspring, that he should watch
over and assist the progress of beings whom he has
enriched with the divine gifts of reason and conscience,
is so natural a doctrine, so accordant with his character, that various sects, both philosophical and religious,
both anterior and subsequent to Christianity, have believed, not only in general revelation, but that God
reveals himself to every human soul.  When I think of
the vast capacities of the human mind, of God's nearness to it, and unbounded love towards it, I am disposed to wonder, not that revelations have been made,
but that they have not been more variously vouchsafed
to the wants of mankind.
Revelation has a striking agreement with the chief
method which God has instituted for carrying forward
individuals and the race, and is thus in harmony with
his ordinary operations. Whence is it, that we all
acquire our chief knowledge? Not from the outward
universe; not from  the fixed laws of material nature;
but from intelligent beings, more advanced than ourselves.  The teachings of the wise and good are our
chief aids.  Were our connexion with superior minds
broken o;ff had we no teacher but nature with its fixed
laws, its unvarying revolutions of night and day and
seasons, we should remain for ever in the ignorance of
childhood. Nature is a volume, which we can read
only by the help of an intelligent interpreter.   The
great law under which man is placed, is, that he shall
receive illumination and impulse from  beings more improved than himself.  Now revelation is only an extension of this universal method of carrying forward mankind.  In this case, God takes on himself the office
28 




330          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
to which all rational beings are called.  He becomes
an immediate teacher to a few, communicating to them
a higher order of truths than had before been attained'
which they in turn are to teach to their race.  Here is
no; new  power or element introduced into the system,
but simply an enlargement of that agency on which tire
progress of man chiefly depends.
Let me next ask you to consider, Why or for what
end God has ordained, as the chief means of humaIr
improvement, the communication of light from superior
to inferior minds; and if it shall then appear, that revelation is strikingly adapted to promote a similar though
more important end, you will have another mark of
agreement between revelation and his ordinary Providence.  Why is it that God has made men's progress
dependent on instruction from their fellow-beings? Why
are the more advanced commissioned to teach the less
informed? A great purpose, I believe the chief purpose, ism, to establish interesting relations among men,
to bind them to one another by generous sentiments, to
promote affectionate intercourse, to call forth a purer
love than could spring from a communication of mere
outward gifts.  Now it is rational to believe, that the
Creator designs to bind his creatures to Himself as truly
as to one another, and to awaken towards himself even
stronger gratitude, confidence, and love; for these senitiments towards G-od are more happy and ennobling
than towards any other being; and it is plain that revelation, or immediate divine teaching, serves as effectually to establish these ties between God and man, as
human teaching to attach men to one another.  We
see, then, in revelation an end corresponding to what
the Supreme Being adopts in his common providence.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY           331
That the end here affirmed is worthy of his interposition, who can doubt?  His benevolence can propose
no higher purpose, than that of raising the minds and
hearts of his creatures to himself.  His parental character is a pledge that he must intend this ineffable happiness for his rational offspring; and Revelation is sited to this end, not only by unfolding new doctrines in
relation to God, but by the touching proof which it
carries in itself of the special interest which he takes
in his human family.  There is plainly an expression
of deeper concern, a mlore affectionate character, in this
mode of instruction, than in teaching us by the fixed
order of nature.  Revelation is God speaking to us in
our own language, in the accents which human friendship employs.  It shows a love, breaking through the
reserve and distance, which we all feel to belong to the
method of teaching us by his works alone.  It fastens
our minds on him.  We can look on nature, and not
think of the Being whose glory it declares; but God
*s indissolubly connected with, and indeed is a part of,
the idea of revelation.  How  much nearer does this
direct intercourse bring him to the mass of mankind!
On this account revelation would seem to me important,
were it simply to repeat the teachings of nature.  This
reiteration of great truths in a less formal style, in kinder, more familiar tones, is peculiarly fitted to awaken
the soul to the presence and benignity of its heavenly
Parent.  I see, then, in revelation a purpose corresponding with that for which human teaching was instituted. Both are designed to bring together the teacher
and the taught in pure affiections.
Let me next ask you to consider, what is the kind
of instructioln which the higher minds among men are




332           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
chiefly called to impart to the inferior. You will here
see another agreement between revelation and that ordinary human teaching, which is the great instrument
of improving the race.  What kind of instruction is
it, which parents, which the aged and experienced, are
most anxious to give to the young, and on which the
safety of this class mainly depends?  It is instruction
in relation to the Future, to their adult years, such as
is suited to prepare them fcr the life that is opening
before them.  It is God's will, when he gives us birth,
that we should be forewarned of the future stages of
our being, of approaching manhood or womanhood, of
the scenes, duties, labors, through which we are to
pass; and for this end he connects us with beings, who
have traversed the paths on which we are entering, and
whose duty it is to train us for a more advanced age.
Instruction in regard to Futurity is the great means
of improvement. Now the Christian revelation has for
its aim  to teach us on this very subject; to disclose
the life which is before us, and to fit us for it.  A Future state is its constant burden.   That God should
give us light in regard to that state, if he designs us
for it, is what we should expect from his solicitude to
teach us in regard to what is future in our earthly existence.  Nature thrists for, and analogy almost promises, some illumination on the subject of human destiny. This topic I shall insist on more largely hereafter.
I wish now simply to show you the agreement of revelation, in this particular, with the ordinary providence
of God.
I proceed to another order of reflections, which to
my own mind is particularly suited to meet the vague
idea, that revelation is at war with nature.  To judge




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          333
of nature, we should look at its highest ranks of beings.
W e should inquire of the human soul, which we all feel
to be a higher existence than matter.  Now I maintain,
that there are in the human soul wants, deep wants,
which are not met by the influences and teachings, which
the ordinary course of things affords.  I am aware that
this is a topic to provoke distrust, if not derision, in the
low-minded and sensual; but I speak what I do know;
and nothing moves me so little as the scoffs of men who
despise their own nature.  One of the most striking
views of human nature, is the disproportion between
what it conceives and thirsts for, and what it finds or
can secure in the range of the present state.  It is prone
to stretch beyond its present bounds.  Ideas of excellence and happiness spring up, which it cannot realize
now.  It carries within itself a standard, of which it daily and hourly falls short.  This self-contradiction is the
source of many sharp pains.  There is, in most men, a
dim consciousness, at least, of being made for something higher than they have gained, a feeling of internal
discord, a want of some stable good, a disappointment in
merely outward acquisitions; and in proportion as these
convictions and wants become distinct, they break out in
desires of illumination and aids fiom  God not found in
nature.  I am aware, that the wants of which I have
spoken are but faintly developed in the majority of men.
Accustomed to give their thoughts and strength to the
outward world, multitudes do not penetrate and cannot
interpret their own souls.  They impute to outward
causes the miseries which spring from an internal fountain. They do not detain, and are scarcely conscious
of the better thoughts and feelings, which sometimes
dart through their minds.  Still there are few, who are




334          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
not sometimes dissatisfied with themselves, who do not
feel the wrong which they have done to themselves, and
who do not desire a purer and nobler state of mind.
The suddenness, with which the multitude are thrilled
by the voice of fervent eloquence, when it speaks to
them of the spiritual world in tones of reality, shows
the deep wants of human nature even amidst ignorance
and degradation.  But all men do not give themselves
wholly to outward things.  There are those, and not
a few, who are more true to their nature, and ought
therefore to be regarded as its more faithful representatives; and in such, the wants, of which I have spoken,
are unfolded with energy.  There are those, who feel
painfully the weight of their present imperfection; who
are fired by rare examples of magnanimity and devotion;
who desire nothing so intensely as power over temptation, as elevation above selfish passions, as conformity
of will to the inward law of duty, as the peace of conscious rectitude and religious trust; who would rejoice
to lay down the present life for that spotless, bright,
disinterested virtue, of which they have the type or
germ in their own minds.  Such men can find no resource but in God, and are prepared to welcome a revelation of his merciful purposes as an unspeakable gift.
I say, then, that the human mind has wants which nature
does not answer.  And these are not accidental feelings, unaccountable caprices, but are deep, enduring,
and reproduced in all ages under one or another form.
They breathe through the works of genius; they burn
in the loftiest souls.  Here are principles implanted by
God in the highest order of his creatures on earth, to
which revelation is adapted; and I say, then, that revelation is any thing but hostility to nature.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          335
I will offer but one more view in illustration of this
topic. I ask you to consider, on what Principle of human nature the Christian revelation is intended to bear
and to exert influence, and then to inquire whether the
peculiar importance of this principle be not a foundation
for peculiar interposition in its behalf.  If so, revelation
may be said to be a demand of the human soul, and its
imagined incongruity with nature will disappear.  For
what principle or faculty of the mind, then, was Clristianity intended?  It was plainly not given to enrich
the intellect by teaching philosophy, or to perfect the
imnagination and taste by furnishing sublime and beautiful models of composition.  It was not meant to give
sagacity in public life, or skill and invention in common
affairs. It was undoubtedly designed to develope all
these faculties, but secondarily, and through its influence
on a higher principle.  It addresses itself primarily,
and is especially adapted, to the Moral power in man.
It regards and is designed for man as a moral being,
endued with conscience or the principle of duty, who is
capable of that peculiar form of excellence which we
call righteousness or virtue, and exposed to that peculiar evil, guilt. Now the question offers itself, Why
does God employ such extraordinary means for promoting virtue rather than science, for aiding conscience
rather than intellect and our other powers?  Is there a
foundation in the moral principle for peculiar interpositions in its behalf?  I affirm that there is.  I affirm
that a broad distinction exists between our moral nature
and our other capacities.  Conscience is the Supreme
power within us.  Its essence, its grand characteristic,
is Sovereignty.  It speaks with a divine authority.  Its
office is to command, to rebuke, to reward; and happi



336           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
ness and honor depend on the reverence with which
we listen to it.  All our other powers become useless
and worse than useless, unless controlled by the principle of duty.  Virtue is the supreme good, the supreme
beauty, the divinest of God's gifts, the healthy and harmonious unfolding of the soul, and the germ of immortality. It is worth every sacrifice, and has power to
transmute sacrifices and sufferings into crowns of glory
and rejoicing.  Sin, vice, is an evil of its own kind, and
not to be confounded with any other. Who does not
feel at once the broad distinction between misfortune
and crime, between disease of body and turpitude of
soul? Sin, vice, is war with the highest power in our
own breasts, and in the universe.  It makes a being
odious to himself, and arms against him the principle
of rectitude in God and in all pure beings.  It poisons
or dries up the fountains of enjoyment, and adds unspeakable weight to the necessary pains of life.  It is
not a foreign evil, but a blight and curse in the very
centre of our being.  Its natural associates are fear,
shame, and self-torture; and, whilst it robs the present
of consolation, it leaves the future without hope.  Now
I say, that in this peculiar ruin wrought by moral evil
and in this peculiar worth of moral goodness, we see
reasons for special interpositions of God in behalf of
virtue, in resistance of sin.  It becomes the Infinite
Father to manifest peculiar interest in the moral condition and wants of his creatures.  Their great and continued corruption is an occasion for peculiar methods
of relief; and a revelation given to restore them, and
carry them forward to perfection, has an end which justifies, if it does not demand, this signal expression of
parental love.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANIl Y.         837
The preceding views have been offered, not as sufficient to prove that a revelation has been given, but
for the purpose of removing the vague notion that it
is at war with nature, and of showing its consistency
with the spirit and principles of the divine admninistration. I proceed now to consider the direct and positive
proofs of Christianity, beginning with some remarks on
the nature and sufficiency of the evidence on which it
chiefly relies.
Christianity sprung up about eighteen hundred years
ago.  Of course its evidences are to be sought in history.  We must go back to the time of its birth, and
understand the condition in which it found the world,
as well as the circumstances of its origin, progress, and
establishment; and happily, on these points, we have
all the light necessary to a just judgment.  We must
not imagine, that a religion, which bears the date of so
distant an ages must therefore be involved in obscurity.
We know enough of the earliest times of Christianity
to place the question of its truth within our reach.  The
past may be known as truly as the present; and I deem
this principle so important in the present discussion
that I ask your attention to it.
The past, I have said, may be known; nor is this
all; we derive from it our most important knowledge.
Former times are our chief instructors.  Our political,
as well as religious institutions, our laws, customs, modes
of thinking, arts of life, have, come down from earlier
ages, and most of them are unintelligible without a light
borrowed from history.
Not only are we able to know the nearest of past
ages, or those which touch on our own times, but those
which are remote.  No educated man doubts any more
voGr, TY.              29




338          EVIDENCES OF CIIRISTIANITY.
of the victories of Alexander or Cwsar, before Christ,
than of Napoleon's conquests in our own day.  So open
is our communication with some ages of antiquity, so
many are the records which they have transmitted, that
we know them  even better than nearer times; and a
religion which grew  up eighteen hundred years ago,
may be more intelligible and accompanied with more
decisive proofs of truth or falsehood, than one which is
not separated from us by a fourth part of that duration.
From the, nature of things, we may and must know
much of the past; for the present has grown out of the
past, is its legacy, fruit, representative, and is deeply
impressed with it. Events do not expire at the moment
of their occurrence.  Nothing takes place without leaving traces behind it; and these are in many cases so
distinct and various, as to leave not a doubt of their
cause.  We all understand, how, in the material world,
events testify of themselves to future ages.  Should we
visit an unknown region, and behold masses of lava
covered with soil of different degrees of thickness, and
surrounding a blackened crater, we should have as firm
a persuasion of the occurrence of remote and successive volcanic eruptions, as if we had lived through the
ages in which they took place. The chasms of the
earth would report how terribly it had been shaken,
and the awful might of long-extinguished fires would
be written in desolations which ages had failed to efface. Now conquest, and civil and religious revolutions, leave equally their impressions on society, leave
institutions, manners, and a variety of monuments, which
are inexplicable without them, and which, taken togeth.
er, admit not a doubt of their occurrence.  The past
stretches into the future, the present is crowded with it,
and can be interpreted only by the light of history.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         339
But besides these effects and remains of earlier times,
we have other and more distinct memorials of the past,
which, when joined with the former, place it clearly
within our knowledge. I refer to books. A book is
more than a monument of a preceding age.  It is a
voice coming to us over the interval of centuries.  Language, when written, as truly conveys to us another's
mind as when spoken.  It is a species of personal intercourse.  By it the wise of former times give us their
minds as really, as if by some miracle they were to rise
from the dead and communicate with us by speech.
From  these remarks we learn that Christianity is not
placed beyond the reach of our investigations by the
remoteness of its origin; and they are particularly applicable to the age in which the gospel was first given
to the world.  Our religion did not spring up before
the date of authentic history.  Its birth is not hidden
in the obscurity of early and fabulous times.  We have
abundant means of access to its earliest stages; and,
what is very important, the deep and peculiar interest
which Christianity has awakened, has fixed the earnest
attention of the most learned and sagacious men on the
period of its original publication, so that no age of antiquity is so thoroughly understood.  Christianity sprung
up at a time, when the literature and philosophy of
Greece was spread far and wide, and had given a great
impulse to the human mind; and when Rome by unexampled conquests had become a centre and bond of
union to the civilized world and to many half civilized
regions, and had established a degree of communication
between distant countries before unknown. We are not,
then, left to grope our way by an unsteady light. Our
means of information are various and great. We have




340          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
incontestable facts in relation to the origin of our reIigion, from which its truth may be easily deduced. A
few of these facts, which form the first steps of our
reasoning on this subject, I will now lay before you.
1. First, then, we know with certainty the time when
Christianity was founded.  As to this fact, there is and
can be no doubt.  Heathen and Christian historians
speak on this point with one voice.  Christianity was
first preached in the age of Tiberius.  Not a trace of
it exists before that period, and afterwards the marks
and proofs of its existence are so obvious and acknowledged as to need no mention.  Here is one important
fact placed beyond doubt.
2. In the next place, we know the place where Christianity sprung up.  No one can dispute the country of
its birth. Its Jewish origin is not only testified by all
history, but is stamped on its front and woven into its
frame.  The language in which it is conveyed, carries
us at once to Judea.  Its name is derived friom  Jewish
prophecy. None but Jews could have written the New
Testament.  So natural, undesigned, and perpetual are
the references and allusions of the writers to the opinions and manners of that people, so accustomed are
they to borrow from  the same source the metaphors,
smilitudes, types, by which they illustrate their doctrines, that Christianity, as to its outward forr, may be
said to be steeped in Judaism.  We have, then, another established fact.  We know where it was born.
3. Again, we know the individual by whom Christianity was founded. We know its Author, and from
the nature of the case this fact cannot but be known.
The founder of a religion is naturally and necessarily
the object of general inquiry. Wherever the new faith




EVIDENCEtS OF CHRISTIANITY.         3I41
is carried, the first and  most eager questions are,
" From whom does it come? On whose authority does
it rest?"  Curiosity is never more intense, than in regard to the individual, who claims a divine commission
and sends forth a new religion.  He is the last man to
be overlooked or mistaken.  In the case of Christianity
especially, its founder may be said to have been forced
on men's notice, for his history forms an essential part
of his religion.  Christianity is not an abstract doctrine, which keeps its author out of sight.  He is its
very soul.  It rests on him, and finds its best illustration in his life.  These reflections however may be
spared.   The simple consideration, that Christianity
must have had an author, and that it has been always
ascribed to Jesus, and to no one else, places the great
fact, which I would establish, beyond doubt.
4. I next observe, that we not only know the founder
of Christianity, but the ministers by whom he published
and spread it through the world. A new religion must
have propagators, first teachers, and with these it must
become intimately associated.  A  community can no
more be ignorant as to the teachers who converted it
to a new faith, than as to the conqueror who subjected
it to a new government; and where the art of writing
is known and used for recording events, the latter fact
will not more certainly be transmitted to posterity than
the former.  We have the testimony of all ages, that
the men called Apostles were the first propagators of
Christianity, nor have any others been named as sustaining this office; and it is impossible that, on such a
point, such testimony should be false.
5. Again; we know not only when, and where, and
by whom Christianity was introduced;-we know, firom,29.




342           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
a great variety of sources, what in the main this reliL
gion was, as it came from the hands of its founder,
To assure ourselves on this point, we need not recur
to any sacred books.  From  the age following that of
Christ and the Apostles, down to the present day, we
have a series, and an almost numberless host, of writers
on the subject of Christianity; and whilst we discover
in them a great diversity of opinions, and opposite interpretations of some of Christ's teachings, yet on the
whole they so far agree in the great facts of his history, and in certain great principles of his religion, that
we cannot mistake as to the general character of the
system  which he taught.  There is not a, shadow  of
reason for the opinion that the original system which
Jesus taught was lost, and a new  one substituted and
fastened on the world in his name.  The many and
great corruptions of Christianity did not and could not
hide its principal features.  The greatest corruptions
took place in the century which followed the death of
the Apostles, when certain wild and visionary sects
endeavoured to establish a union between the new religion and the false philosophy to which they had been
wedded in their heathen state.  You may judge of their
character and claims, when I tell you, that they generally agreed in believing, that the God who made the
world, and who was worshipped by the Jews, was not
the supreme God, but an inferior and imperfect Deity,
and that matter had existed from eternity, and was
essentially and unchangeably evil. Yet these sects endeavoured to sustain themselves on the writings which
the great body of Christians received and honored as
the works of the Apostles; and, amidst their delusions,
they recognised and taught the miracles of Christ, his




EVIDENCES OF CHRiSTIANITY.           345
resurrection, and the most important principles of his
religion; so that the general nature of Christianity, as
t came firom its Founders may be ascertained beyond
a doubt.  Here another great point is fixed.
6. I have now stated to you several particulars relating to Christianity, which admit no doubt; and these
indisputable facts are of great weight in a discussion of
the Christian evidences.  There is one point more, of
importance, which cannot be settled so expeditiously as
these.  I hope, however, enough may be said to place
it beyond doubt, without exceeding the limits of a discourse; and I invite to it your serious attention.  I say,
then, that we not only know in general what Christianity was at its first promulgation; but we know precisely what its first propagators taught, for we have
their writings.  We have their religion under their own
hands.  We have particularly four narratives of the life,
works, and words of their Master, which put us in possession of his most private as well as public teaching.
It is true, that without those writings we should still
have strong  arguments for the truth  of Christianity;
but we should be left in doubt as to some of its important principles; and its internal evidence, which corroborates, and, as some think, exceeds the external,
would be very much impaired.  The possession of the
writings of the first propagators of the gospel, must
plainly render us great aid in judging of its claims.
These writings, I say, we have, and this point I would
now establish.
I ram  aware that the question, to which I now  ask
your attention, is generally confined to professed students.  But it is one on which men of good sense are
competent to judge, and its great importance  gives it a
claim to the serious consideration of every Christian




344          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
The question is, whether the four Gospels are genus
ine, that is, whether they were written by those to whom
they are ascribed. To answer it, let us consider how
we determine the genuineness of books in general.  IS
begin with the obvious remark, that to know the author
of a work, it is not necessary that we should be eyewitnesses of its composition.  Perhaps of the numbers
less publications of the present day, we have not seen
one growing under the pen of the writer.  By far the
greater number come to us across the ocean, and yet
we are as confident in regard to their authors as if we
had actually seen them  first committed to paper.  The
ascription of a book to an individual, during his life,
by those whe are interested in him, and who have the
best means of knowing the truth, removes all doubts as
to its author. A strong and wide-spread conviction of
this kind must have a cause, and can only be explained
by the actual production of the work by the reputed
writer. It should here be remembered that there is
a strong disposition in men to ascertain the author of
an important and interesting work.  We have had a
remarkable illustration of this in our own times.  The
author of " Waverley " saw fit to wrap himself for a time
Sn mystery; and what was the consequence? No subject in politics or science was agitated more generally
than the question to whom the work belonged. It was
not only made a topic in almost every periodical publication, but one book was expressly written to solve the
problem.  The instance, I know, was remarkable; but
this inquisitiveness in regard to books is a principle of
our nature, and is particularly active, when the book in
debate is a work of singular authority.
T have spoken of the confidence which we feel as to




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.        345
the authors of books published in our own times. But
our certainty is not confined to these.  Every reading
man is as sure that Hume and Robertson wrote the
histories which bear their names, as that Scott has in
our own time sent out the " Life of Bonaparte." Those
eminent men were born more than -a hundred years
ago, and they died before the birth of most to whom
I speak. But the communication between their times
and our own is so open and various, that we know their
literary labors as well as those of the present day.
Not a few'persons now living have had intercourse
with some of the contemporaries of these historians;
and through this channel in particular, we of this generation have the freest access to the preceding, and
know its convictions in regard to the authors of interesting books as fully as if we had lived in it ourselves.
That the next age will have the same communication
with the present as the present has with the past, and
that these convictions of our predecessors will be transinitted by us to our immediate successors, you will
easily comprehend; and you will thus learn the respect
which is due to the testimony of the third generation
on such a subject.
In what has now been said, we see with what confidence and certainty we determine the authors of writings published in our own age or in the times nearest
our own.  These remarks may be easily applied to
the productions of antiquity.  \WThen the question arises,
whether an ancient book was written by the individual
whose name it bears, we must inquire into the opinion
of his contemporaries, or of those who succeeded his
contemporaries so nearly as to have intimate communication with them.  The competency of these to a just




346           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
judgment on the subject, we have seen; and if they
have transmitted their convictions to us in undisputed
writings, it ought to be decisive.  On this testimony,
we ascribe many ancient books to their authors with
the firmest faith; and, in truth, we receive as genuine
many works of antiquity on far inferior proofs.  There
are many books of which no notice can be found for
several ages after the time of their reputed authors.
Still the fact, that, as soon as they are named, they
are ascribed undoubtingly, and by general consent, to
certain authors, is esteemed a sufficient reason for
regarding them as their productions, unless some opposite proof can be adduced.  This general reception
of a work as having come from a particular writer, is
an effect which requires a cause; and the most natural
and obvious explanation of his being named, rather than
any other man, is, that he actually composed it.
I now proceed to apply these principles to the four
histories of Christ, commonly called Gospels.  The
question is, what testimony respecting their authors
has come down to us from the age of their reputed
authors, or from times so near it and so connected with
it, as to be faithful representatives of its convictions.
By this testimony, as we have seen, the genuineness
of the books must be decided.  And I begin with admitting that no evidence on the subject is to be derived
from contemporary writers. No author, living in the
age of the first propagators of Christianity, has named
the Gospels.  The truth is, that no undisputed writings of their immediate converts have been preserved.
A  few  tracts, bearing the name of men acquainted
with the Apostles, have indeed come down to us; but
so much uncertainty hangs over their origin, that I am




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.        347
unwilling to ground on them any reasoning.  Nor ought
we to wonder that the works of private Christians of the
primitive age are wanting to us; for that was an age of
persecution, when men were called to die rather than
write for their religion.  I suppose too, that during the
times of the Apostles, little importance was attached to
any books but such as were published or authorized by
these eminent men; and, of course, what was written
by others was little circulated, and soon passed away.
The undisputed writings of the early Christians begin
about seventy years after the times of the Apostles.
At that period there probably remained none of the first
converts or contemporaries of the Apostles.  But there
were living not a few, who had been acquainted with the
last survivors of that honored generation.  When the
Apostles died, they must have left behind a multitude
who had known them; and of these not a few must have
continued many years, and must have had intercourse
with the new generation which sprung up after the apostolic age.  Now in the times of this generation, the
series of Christian authors begins.  Although, then, we
have no productions of the apostolic age to bear witness
to the Gospels, we have writings from the ages which
immediately followed it, and which, from their connexion with it, ought, as we have seen, to be regarded as
most credible witnesses on such a subject. WThat, then,
do these writings teach? I answer, Their testimony is
clear and full.  We learn from them, not only that the
Gospels existed in those times, but that they were widely diffused, that they were received as the writings of
the men whose names they bear, and that they were regarded with a confidence and veneration yielded to no
other books.  They are quoted as books given by their




348          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
-revered authors to the Christian community, to be public
and enduring records of the religion; and they are
spoken of as read in the assemblies which were held for
the inculcation and extension of the faith.  I ask you to
weigh this testimony. It comes to us from times connected intimately with the first age.  Had the Gospels
been invented and first circulated among the generation
which succeeded the Apostles, could that generation
have received them, as books known and honored before
their time, and as the most authoritative and precious
records transmitted to them from their fathers and predecessors?  The case may seem too plain to require
explanation; but as many are unaccustomed to inquiries
of this kind, I will offer an example.  You well know,
that nearly a century ago a great religious excitement
was spread through this country chiefly by the ministry
of Whitefield. Suppose now that four books were a
this moment to come forth, bearing the names of four of
the most distinguished men of that period, of Whitefield, of the venerable Edwards, and of two others intinately associated with them  in their religious labors;
and suppose these books not only to furnish narratives
of what then took place, but to contain principles and
rules urged with all possible earnestness and authority on
the disciples or admirers of these religious leaders.  Do
you think it possible that their followers of the present
day, and the public, could be made to believe, that these
books had been published by their pretended authors,
had been given as standards to a religious community,
and had been handed down as venerated books, when
no such works had been heard of before? This is but a
faint illustration; for Whitefield and Edwards are names
of little weight or authority, compared with what tle
Apostles possessed in the primitive church.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         349
We have, then, strong and sufficient reasons for believing that the histories called Gospels were received,
in the times of the Apostles, as works of those whose
names they bear; and were handed down as theirs with
veneration by their contemporaries.  Will any say that
all this may be true, but that, during the lives ofLthe
Apostles, books forged in their names may have obtained general currency?  To this extravagant supposition it would be sufficient to reply, according to my previous remarks, that the general ascription of a book to
an author during his life, is the ground on which the genuineness of the most unquestioned works depends. But
I would add, that this evidence is singularly conclusive
in the present case.  The original propagators of Christianity, to whom the Gospels were ascribed, were, from
their office, among the public men of their age.  They
must have travelled extensively.  They must have been
consulted by inhabitants of various countries on the subject of the new religion.  They must have been objects
of deep interest to the first converts.  They lived in the
world's eye.  Their movements, visits, actions, words,
and writings, must have awakened attention.  Books
from their hands must have produced a great sensation.
We cannot conceive a harder task, than to impose writings, forged in their name, on Christians and Christian
communities, thus intimately connected with them, and
so alive to their efforts for the general cause.  The opportunities of detecting the falsehood were abundant;
and to imagine falsehood to prosper under such circumstances, argues a strange ignorance of literary history
and of human nature.
Let me add, that the motives of the first Christians,
to ascertain distinctly whether writings ascribed to the
VOL. III.             30




350          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
Apostles were truly theirs, were the strongest which can
be conceived. I have mentioned, in my previous remarks, the solicitude of the world to learn the author of'I Waverley."  The motive was mere curiosity; and yet
to what earnest inquiries were multitudes impelled. The
name of the author was of little or no moment. The
book was the same, its portraits equally vivid, its developements of the human heart equally true and powerful,
whether the author;were known or not.  So it is with
most works. Books of science, philosophy, morals,
and polite literature, owe their importance and authority, not to their writers, but to their contents.  Now, the
four Gospels were different in this respect.  They were
not the same to the first converts, come from whom they
might.  If written by Apostles or by their associates,
they had an authority and sacredness, which could belong to them  on no other condition.  They became
books of laws to the Christian community, became
binding on their consciences and lives.  To suppose
such books received blindly and without inquiry, by
great numbers who had all the means of ascertaining
their true origin, is to suppose the first converts insane
or idiots, a charge which I believe their worst enemies
will not think of urging against them, and which the
vast superiority of their religious and moral system to
all the philosophical systems of the times abundantly
disproves.
I have - now finished what is called the historical or
external evidence of the genuineness of the four Gospels; that is, the evidence drawn from their being received and revered as the writings of the Apostles in the
first and succeeding ages of Christianity.  But before
leaving this head, I would notice a difficulty which may




EVIDENCES OF CHRnISTIANITY.        351
press on some minds.  I suppose, that many of you
have heard, that very early, probably about the beginning of the second century, writings were forged in the
name of the Apostles; and some may ask why the four
Gospels may not belong to this description. The answer
is, that the Gospels, as we have seen, were received and
honored by the great body of Christians, in the first and
succeeding ages of Christianity, as writings of Apostles
or their associates.  The forgeries are known to be forgeries, because they were not so received, because they
were held in no veneration, but were rejected as fictitious
by the Christian community.  Here is a broad line of
distinction. It must not surprise us, that in the great
excitement produced by the first publication and triumphs of Christianity, a variety of extravagant notions
should spring up, and that attempts should be made to
blend the new religion with established systems; and as
the names of the first propagators of the Gospel were
held in peculiar reverence, we cannot wonder that the
leaders of sects should strive to attach an apostolic
sanction to their opinions, by sending abroad partly true
and partly false accounts of the preaching of these eminent men.  Whether these writings were sent forth as
compositions of the Apostles, or only as records of
their teaching, made by their hearers, is a question open
to debate; but as to their origin there can be little
doubt. We can account for their existence, and for the
degree of favor which they obtained.  They were generally written to give authority to the dreams or speculations of some extravagant sects, to which they were
very much confined, and with which most of them
passed away. There is not a shadow of reason for
confounding with these our Gospels, which were spread




352          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
from the beginning through the Christian world, and
were honored and transmitted as the works of the venerated men by whose names they were called.
Having now given the historical argument in favor of
the genuineness of the Gospels, that is, in favor of their
being written by their reputed authors, I now add, that
there are several presumptive and internal proofs of the
same truth, which, taken alone, have great weight, and,
when connected with the preceding, form an amount of
evidence not easily withstood.  I have time to glance at
only a few of these.
It is a presumption in favor of the claims of an
author, that the book ascribed to him has never been
assigned to any other individual.  Now I am not aware,
that unbelief has in any age named any individuals, to
whom the Gospels may be traced rather than to those
whose names they bear. We are not called upon to
choose between different writers.  In common cases,
this absence of rival claims is considered as decisive in
favor of the reputed author, unless the books themselves
give ground to suspect another hand. Why shall not
this principle be applied to the Gospels as well as to all
other works?
Another presumption in favor of the belief that these
histories were written by the first propagators of Christianity, arises from  the consideration, that such books
were to be expected from them. It is hardly conceivable that the Apostles, whose zeal carried abroad their
system through so many nations, and who lived in an
age of reading and writing, should leave their doctrines
to tradition, should neglect the ordinary precaution of
embodying them in the only permanent form, the only
one in which they could be accurately transmitted, and




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         353
by which all other systems were preserved. It is rear
sonable to suppose that they wrote what they taught;
and if so, it is hardly possible that their writings should
oe lost.- Their accounts must have been received and
treasured up just as we know the Gospels were cherished; and hence arises a strong presumption in favor
of the genuineness of these books.
Again; these books carry one strong mark of having
been written in the time of the Apostles.  They contain
no trace of later times, nothing to indicate that the
authors belonged to another age.  Now  to those of
you, who are acquainted with such subjects, it is hardly
necessary to observe, how difficult it is for a writer to
avoid betraying the period in which he lives; and the
cause is very obvious.  Every age has its peculiarities,
has manners, events, feelings, words, phrases of its
own; and a man brought up among these falls so naturally under their influence, and incorporates them  so
fully with his own mind, that they break out and manifest themselves, almost necessarily and without his consciousness, in his words and writings.  The present
makes an impression incomparably more vivid than the
past, and accordingly traces of the real age of a writer
may almost always be discovered by a critical eye,
however anxious he may be to assume the style and
character of a preceding age. Now the Gospels betray
no marks of the feelings, manners, contentions, events
of a period later than that in which the Apostles lived;
and when we consider, that, with the exception of Luke's
history, they have all the appearance of having come
from plain men, unused to composition, this argument
applies to them with peculiar force.  Under this head,
I might place before you the evidence of the genuine30 *




S54          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
ness of these books derived from  the language, dialect,
idiom, in which they are written. You can easily understand, that by these helps the country and age of a
writing may often be traced; but the argument belongs
to the learned.  It may however be satisfactory to
know, that the profoundest scholars see in the dialect
and idiom of the Gospels, a precise accordance with
what might be expected of Jews, writing in the age of
the Apostles.
Another internal proof, and one within the reach of
all, may be gathered from the style and character of
the evangelical narratives.  They are written with the
simplicity, minuteness, and ease, which are the natural
tones of truth, which belong to writers thoroughly acquainted with their subjects, and writing from reality.
You discover in them nothing of the labor, caution,
and indistinctness, which can scarcely be escaped by
men who are assuming a character not their own, and
aiming to impose on the world.  There is a difference
which we have all discerned and felt, though we cannot
describe it, between an honest, simple-hearted witness,
who tells what he has seen or is intimately acquainted
with, and the false witness, who affects an intimate
knowledge of events and individuals, which are in whole
or in part his own fabrication.  Truth has a native
frankness, an unaffected freedom, a style and air of its
own, and never were narratives more strongly characterized by these than the Gospels.  It is a striking
circumstance in these books, that whilst the life and
character which they portray, are the most extraordinary in'history, the style is the most artless.  There is
no straining for epithets or for elevation of' language to
suit the dignity of the great personage Nwho is the s:xb



EVIDrENCES OF C IUrsTIANITY.       355
lect. You hear plain men telling you what they know,
of a character which they venerated too much to think
of adorning or extolling.  It is also worthy of remark,
that the character of Jesus, though the most peculiar
and exalted in history, though the last to be invented
and the hardest to be sustained, is yet unfolded through
a great variety of details and conditions, with perfect
unity and consistency.  The strength of this proof can
only be understood by those who are sufficiently acquainted with literary history, to appreciate the difficulty
of accomplishing a consistent and successful forgery.
Such consistency is, in the present case, an almost infallible test.  Suppose four writers, of a later age, to
have leagued together in the scheme of personating the
first propagators of Christianity, and of weaving, in
their name, the histories of their Master's life.  Removed as these men would have been from the original,
and having no model or type of his character in the
elevation of their own minds, they must have protrayed
him with an unsteady hand, must have marred their
work with incongruous features, must have brought
down their hero on some occasion to the ordinary views
and feelings of men, and in particular must have been
warped in their selection and representation of incidents
by the private purpose which led them to this singular
co6peration.  That four writers, under such circumstances, should sustain throughout so peculiar and elevated a character as Jesus, and should harmonize with
each other in the delineation, would be a prodigy which
no genius, however preeminent, could achieve. I say,
then, that the narratives bear strong internal marks of
having been drawn from  the living original, by those
who had the best means of knowing his character and
fife.




356           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
So various, strong, sufficient are the proofs that the
four Gospels are the works of the first preachers of
Christianity, whose name they bear. I will only add,
that the genuineness of few ancient books is supported
by proofs equally strong.  Most of the works, which
have come down to us from  antiquity, and which are
ascribed to their reputed writers with undoubting confidence, are so ascribed on evidence inferior to that on
which the claims of the Evangelists rest.  On this point
therefore not a doubt should remain.
Here I pause.  The proofs of Christianity, which are
involved in or founded on the facts now established,
will be the subjects of future discussion.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANII Y.       357
PART II.
I HAVE now stated some of the great facts relating
to the origin of Christianity, of which we have clear
and full proof.  We know when and where this religion
sprung up.  We know its Author, and the men whom
hie employed as the first propagators of his doctrine.
Wee know the great features of the religion as it was
originally taught; and still more, we have the writings
of its first teachers, by which its precise character is
placed beyond doubt. I now proceed to lay before you
some of the arguments in support of Christianity, which
are involved in or are founded on these facts.  I must
confine myself to a few, and will select those to which
some justice may be done in the compass of a discourse.
I. I believe Christianity to be true, or to have come
from God, because it seems to me impossible to trace
it to any other origin.  It must have had a cause, and
no other adequate cause can be assigned.  The incongruity between this religion and all the circumstances
amidst which it grew up, is so remarkable, that we are
compelled to look beyond and above this world for its
explanation.  When I go back to the origin of Christianity, and place myself in the age and country of its
birth, I can find nothing in the opinions of men, or in
the state of society, which can account for its beginning or diffusion.  There was no power on earth to




358           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
create or uphold such a system.  There was nothing
congenial with it in Judaism, in heathenismn, or in the
state of society among the most cultivated communities.
If you study the religions, governments, and philosophical systems of that age, you will discover in them
not even a leaning towards Christianity.   It sprung
up in opposition to all, making no compromise wit-h:
human prejudice or passion; and it sprung up, noet
only superior to all, but possessing at its very beginning
a perfection, which has been the admiration of ages,
and which, instead of being dimmed by time, has come
forth more brightly, in proportion to- the progress of
the human, mind.
I know, indeed, that, at the origin of our religionthe old heathen worship had fallen into disrepute among
the enlightened classes through tihe Roman Empire, and
was gradually losing its hold on the populace.  Accordingly some have pretended that Christianity grew from
the ruins of the ancient faith.  But this is not true;
for the decline of the heathen systems was the product
of causes singularly adverse to the origination of such a
system as Christianity.  One cause was the monstrous
depravity of the age, which led multitudes to an utter
scorn of religion in all its forms and restraints, and
which prepared others to exchange their old worship
for still grosser and more licentious superstitions, particularly for the magical arts cf Egypt.  Surely this
corruption of manners, this wide-wasting moral pestilence, will not be considered by any as a germ  of the
Christian religion.  Another principal agent in loosening the foundations of the old systems, was Philosophy,
a noble effort indeed of the human intellect, but one
which did nothing to prepare the way for Christianity.,




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          S59
The most popular systems of philosophy at the birth
of Christianity were the Skeptical and the Epicurean,
the former of which turned religion into a jest, denied
the possibility of arriving at truth, and cast the mind on
an ocean of doubt in regard to every subject of inquiry;
whilst the latter placed happiness in ease, inculcated a
calm  indifference both as to this world and the next,
and would have set down the Christian doctrine of selfsacrifice, of suffering for truth and duty, as absolute insanity.  Now I ask in what single point do these systems touch Christianity, or what impulse could they
have given to its invention.  There was indeed another
philosophical sect of a nobler character; I mean the
Stoical.  This maintained that virtue was the supreme
good, and it certainly nurtured some firm and lofty spirits amidst the despotism whiich then ground all classes
in the dust.  But the self-reliance, sternness, apathy,
and pride of the Stoic, his defiance and scorn of mankind, his want of sympathy with human suffering, and
his extravagant exaggerations of his own virtue, placed
this sect in singular opposition to Christianity; so that
our religion might as soon have sprung from Skepticism
and Epicureanism,  as fiom Stoicism. There was another system, if it be worthy of the name, which prevailed
in Asia, and was not unknown to the Jews, often called
the Oriental philosophy.  But this, though certainly an
improvement on the common heathenism, was visionary
and mystical, and placed happiness in an intuition or
immediate perception of God, which was to be gained
by contemplation and ecstasies, by emaciation of the
body, and desertion of the world.  I need not tell you
how  infinitely removed was the practical, benevolent
spirit of Christianity, from  this spurious sanctity and




360          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
profitless enthusiasm.  I repeat it, then, that the various
causes which were silently operating against the established heathen systems in the time of Christ, had no
tendency to suggest and spread such a religion as he
brought, but were as truly hostile to it as the worst
forms of heathenism.
We cannot find, then, the origin of Christianity in
the heathen world.  Shall we look for it in the Jewish?
This topic is too familiar to need much exposition.
You know the character, feelings, expectations of the descendants of Abraham at the appearing of Jesus; and
you need not be told, that a system, more opposed to
the Jewish mind than that which he taught, cannot be
imagined.  There was nothing friendly to it in the soil
or climate of Judea.  As easily might the luxuriant
trees of our forest spring from the sands of an Arabian
desert.  There was never perhaps a national character
so deeply stamped as the Jewish. Ages after ages of
unparalleled suffering have done little to wear away its
indelible features.  In the time of Jesus the whole influence of education and religion was employed to fix it
in every member of the state.  In the bosom  of this
community, and among its humblest classes, sprung up
Christianity, a religion as unfettered by Jewish prejudices, as untainted by the earthly, narrow views of the
age, as if it had come from  another world.  Judaism
was all around it, but did not mar it by one trace, or
sully its brightness by a single breath.  Can we find,
then, the cause of Christianity in the Jewish any more
than in the heathen world?
Christianity, I maintain, was not the growth of any
of the circumstances, principles, or feelings of the age
in which it appeai'ed.  In truth, one of the great dis



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          361
u.nctions of the Gospel is, that it did not grow.  Thne
conception, which filled the mind of Jesus, of a religion
more spiritual, generous, comprehensive, and unworldly
than Judaism, and destined to take its place, was not of
gradual formation.   We detect no signs of it, and no
efforts to realize it, before his time; nor is there an appearance of its having been gradually matured by Jesus
himself.  Christianity was delivered from  the first in its
full proportions, in a style of singular freedom and boldness, and without a mark of painful elaboration.  This
suddenness with which this religion broke forth, this
maturity of the system at the very moment of its birth,
this' absence of gradual developemlent, seems to me a
strong mark of its divine original.  If Christianity be a
human invention, then I can be pointed to something in
the history of tile age which impelled and fitted the mind
of its author to its production; then I. shall be able to
find some germ of it, some approximation to it, in the
state of things amidst which it first. appeared.  How was
it, that from thick darkness there burst forth: at., once
meridian light?  Were I told that the sciences of the
civilized world had sprung up to perfection at once,
amidst a barbarous horde, I should pronounce it incredible.  Nor can I easily believe, that Christianity, the religion of unbounded love, a religion which broke down
the barrier between Jew and Gentile, and the barriers between nations, which proclaimed one Universal Father,
which abolished forms and substituted the worship of the
soul, which condemned alike the false greatness of the
Roman and the:false holiness of the Jew, and which
taught an elevation of virtue, that the growing knowledge
of succeeding ages has made more admirable;- I say,
I cannot easily believe, that such a religion was suddenly,
VOL,. Ill.             3




362           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
immediately struck out by human ingenuity, among a
people distinguished by bigotry and narrowness of spirit,
by superstitious reliance on outward worship, by hatred
and scorn of other nations, and by the proud, impatient
hope of soon bending all nations to their sway.
Christianity, I repeat its was not the growth of the
age in which it appeared.  It had no sympathy with that
age.  It was the echo of no sect or people.  It stood
alone at the moment of its birth.  It used not a word of
conciliation.  It stooped to no error or passion. It had
its own tone, the tone of authority and superiority to the
world.  It struck at the root of what was everywhere
called glory, reversed the judgments of all former ages,
passed a condemning sentence on the idols of this
world's admiration, and held forth, as the perfection of
human nature, a spirit of love, so pure and divine, so
free and full, so mild and forgiving, so invincible in fortitude yet so tender in its sympathies, that even now few
comprehend it in its extent and elevation.  Such a religion had not its origin in this world.
I have thus sought to unfold one of the evidences of
Christianty.  Its incongruity with the age of its birth, its
freedom from earthly mixtures, its original, unborrowed,
solitary greatness, and the suddenness with which it
broke forth amidst the general gloom, these are to me
strong indications of its divine descent. I cannot reconcile them with a human origin.
II. Having stated the argument in favor of Christianity, derived from  the impossibility of accounting for it
by the state of the world at the time of its birth, I proceed, in the second place, to observe, that it cannot be
accounted for by any of the motives which instigate men




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          363
t the fabrication of religions.  Its aims and objects are
utterly irreconcilable with imposture.  They are pure,
lofty, and worthy of the most illustrious delegate of
heaven.  This argument deserves to be unfolded with
some particularity.
MIen act from  Motives.  The inventors of religions
have purposes to answer by them.  Some systems have
been framed by legislators to procure reverence to
their laws, to bow the minds of the people to the civil
power; and some have been forged by priests, to establish their sway over the multitude, to form  themselves
into a dominant caste, and to extort the wealth of the
industrious.   Now  I affirm, that Christianity cannot
be ascribed to any selfish, ambitious, earthly motive.
It is suited to no private end.  Its purpose is generous
and elevated, and thus bears witness to its heavenly
origin.
The great object which has seduced men to pretend
to inspiration, and to spread false religions, has been
Power, in one form or another, sometimes political
power, sometimes spiritual, sometimes both. Is Christianity to be explained by this selfish aim?  I answer,
No.  I affirm   that the love of power is the last principle to be charged on the Founder of our religion.
Christianity is distinguished by nothing more than by its
earnest enforcement of a meek and humble spirit, and
by its uncompromising reprobation of that passion for
dominion, which had in all ages made the many the prey
of the few, and had been worshipped as the attribute
and impulse of the greatest minds.  Its tone on this
subject was original, and altogether its own. Jesus felt,
as none had felt before, and as few feel now, the baseness of selfish ambition, and the grandeur of that benev



364           EVIDENCES OF' CHRISTIANITY.
olence which waves every mark of superiority, that -it
may more effectually bless mankind.  He taught: this
lesson, not only in the boldest language, but, accomtnodating himself to the emlIlernatical mode of religious
instruction prevalent in the East, be set before his disciples a little child as their pattern, and himself washed
their feet.  His whole life was a commentary on his
teaching,   Not a trace of the passion for distinction and
swvay can be detected in the artless narratives of his
historians.  He wore no badge of superiority, exacted no signs of homage, coveted no attentions, resented
no neglect. He discouraged the ruler who prostrated
himself before him  with flattering salutations, but re —
ceived with affectionate sensibility the penitent who
bathed his feet with her tears.  He lived with his obscure disciples as a friend, and mixed freely with all
ranks of the community.  He placed himself in the way
of scorn, and advanced to meet a death, more suited
than any other imaginable event,sto entail infamy on hisi
name.  Stronger marks of an infinite superiority to what
the world calls glory, cannot be conceived than we meet
in the history of Jesus.
I have named two kinds of power, Political and
Spiritual, as the ordinary objects of false religions.  I
wish to show you more particularly the elevation of
Christianity above these aims.  That the Gospel was
not framed from  political purposes, is too plain to require proof; but its peculiarity in this respect is not
sufficiently considered.  In ancient times, religion was
everywhere a national concern.  In Judea the unionbetween religion and government was singularly close;
and political sovereignty was one of the chief.splendors,,.with which the Jewishl iagination had surroun&



EVIDENCES OF CHRIS'IANITY.         365
ed the expected Messiah.  That in such an age and
country, a religion should arise, which hardly seems to
know that government exists; which makes no reference to it except in a few general inculcations of obedience to the civil powers; which says not a word nor
throws out a hint of allying itself with the state; which
assumes to itself no control of political affairs, and intermeddles with no public concerns; which has no tendency, however indirect, to accumulate power in particular hands; which provides no form of national worship
as a substitute for those which it was intended to destroy; and which treats the distinctions of rank and
office as worthless in comparison with moral influence
and. an unostentatious charity; — that such a religion
should spring up in such a state of the world is a remarkable fact.  We here see a broad  line between
Christianity and other systelns, and a striking proof of
its originality and elevation. Other systems were framed
for communities; Christianity approached men as Individuals.  It proposed, not the glory of the state, but
the perfection of the individual mind.  So far from beino contrived to build up political power, Christianity
tends to reduce and gradually to supplant it, by teaching
men to substitute the sway of truth and love for menace
and force, by spreading through all ranks a feeling of
brotherhood altogether opposed to the spirit of domination, and by establishing principles which nourish selfrespect in every human being, and teach the obscurest
to look with an undazzled eye on the most powerful of
their race.
Christianity bears no mark of the hands of a politician. One of its main purposes is to extinguish the
very spirit which the ambitious statesman most anxiously
31 *




g.i6~6        EVIDENCES OF CIHRISTIANITY.
cherishes, and on which he founds his success.  It pros
scribes a narrow  patriotism, shows no mercy to the
spirit of conquest, requires its disciples to love other
countries as truly as their own, and enjoins a spirit of'
peace and forbearance in language so broad and earnest,)
that not a few of its professors consider war in every
shape and under all circumstances as a crime.  The
hostility between Christianity and all the political maxims of that age, cannot easily be comprehended at the'
present day.  No doctrines were then so rooted, as,
that conquest was the chief interest of a nation, and
that an exclusive patriotism  was the first and' noblest
of social virtues.  Christianity, in loosening the tie
which bound man to the state, that it might connect
him: with his race, opposed itself to what was deemed
the vital principle of' national safety and grandeur, and
commenced' a political revolution as original and unsparing as the religious and moral reform  at which it'
aimed.
Christianity, then, was, not framed for political purposes.  But I shall be' asked, whether it stands equally
clear of the charge of being intended to accumulate
Spiritual power.  Some may ask, whether its founder
was not instigated by the passion for religious domination, whether he did not aim to subdue men's minds,
to dictate to the faith of the world, to make himself the
leader of a spreading sect, to stamp his name as a prophet on human history, and thus to secure the prostration of multitudes to his will, more abject and entire'
than kings and conquerors can achieve.
To this I might reply by what I have said of the
character of Jesus, and of the spirit of his religion.
It is plain, that the founder of Christianity had a per



EVIDENCES: OF CHRISTIANITY.          367
ception, quite peculiar to himself, of the moral beauty
and greatness of a disinterested, meek, and self-sacrificing spirit, and such a person was not likely to meditate the subjugation of the world to himself.   But,
leaving this topic, I observe, that on examining Christianity we discover none of the features of a religion
framed for spiritual domination.  One of the infallible
marks of such a system is, that it makes some terms
with the passions and prejudices of men.  It does not,
cannot provoke and ally against itself all the powers,
whether civil or religious, of the world.  Christianity
was throughout uncompromising and exasperating, and
threw  itself in the way of hatred and scorn.  Such a
system  was any thing but a scheme for seizing the
spiritual empire of the world.
There is another mark of a religion which springs
from  the love of spiritual domination.  It infuses a
servile spirit.  Its author, desirous to stamp his name
and image on his followers, has an interest in curbing
the free action of their minds, imposes on them arbitrary doctrines, fastens on them  badges which may
separate them  from others, and besets them with rules,
forms, and distinctive observances, which may  perpetually remind them of their relation to their chief;
Now  I see nothing in Christianity of this enslaving
legislation.  It has but one aim, which is, not to exalt
its teacher, but to improve the disciple; not to fasten
Christ's name on mankind, but to breathe into them
his spirit of universal love.  Christianity is not a religion of formIs.  It has but two ceremonies, as simple
as they are expressive; and these hold so subordinate
a place in the New Testament, that some of the best
Christians question or deny their permanent obligationm




368.FVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
Neither is it a narrow creed, or a mass of doctrines
which find -no support in our rational nature.  It may
be summed up in a few great, universal, immutable principles, which reason and conscience, as far as they are
unfolded, adopt and rejoice in, as their own everlasting
laws, and which open perpetually enlarging views to
the mind.  As far as I am a Christian, I am free.  My
religion lays on me not one chain.  It does not prescribe a certain range for my mind, beyond which nothing can be learned.  It speaks of God as the Universal
Father, and sends me to all his works for instruction.
It does not hem  me round with a mechanical ritual,
does not enjoin forms, attitudes, and hours of prayer,
does not descend to details of dress and food, does
not put on me one outward badge.  It teaches and
enkindles love to God, but commands no precise expressions of this sentiment.  It prescribes prayer; but
lays the chief stress on the prayer of the closet, and
treats all worship as worthless but that of the mind and
heart. It teaches us to do good, but leaves us to devise for ourselves the means by which we may best
serve mankind. In a word, the whole religion of Christ
may be summed up in the love of God and of mankind, and it leaves the individual to cherish and express
this spirit by the methods most accordant with his own
condition and peculiar mind. Christianity is eminently
the religion of freedom.  The views which it gives of
the parental, impartial, universal goodness of God, and
of the equal right of every human being to inquire into
his will, and its inculcations of' candor, forbearance,
and mutual respect, contribute alike to freedom of
thought and enlargement of the heart.  I repeat it,
Christianity lays on nme no chains.  It. is any thing but
a contrivance for spirtual domination.




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          369
I am aware that I shall be told, that Christianity, if
judged by its history, has no claim  to the honorable
title of a religion of liberty.  I shall be told, that no
system  of heathenism  ever weighed more oppressively
on men's souls; that the Christian ministry has trained
tyrants, who have tortured, now the body with material
fire, and now the- mind with the dread of fiercer flames,
and who have proscribed and punished free thought and
free speech as the worst of crimes.  I have no disposition to soften the features of priestly oppression; but
I say, let not Christianity be made to answer for it.
Christianity gives its ministers no such power.  They
have usurped it in the face of the sternest prohibitions,
and in opposition to the whole: spirit of their Master.
Christianity institutes no priesthood, in the original and
proper sense of that word.  It has not the name of
priest among its officers; nor does it confer a shadow
of priestly power.  It invests no class of men with peculiar sanctity, ascribing to their intercessions a special
influence over God, or suspending the salvation of the
private Christian on ceremonies which they alone can
administer.  Jesus indeed appointed twelve of his immediate disciples to be the great instruments of propagating his religion; but nothing can be simpler than
their office.  They went forth to make known through
all nations the life, death, resurrection, and teachings
of Jesus Christ; and this truth they spread freely and
without reserve.  They did not give it as a mystery
to a few who were to succeed them  in their office, and
according to whose direction it was to be imparted to
others.  They communicated it to the whole body of
converts, to be their equal and common property, thus
securing to all the invaluable rights of the mind.  It




370           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY
is true, they appointed ministers or teachers in the
various congregations which they formed; and in that
early age, when the religion was new and unknown, and
when oral teaching was the only mode of communicating
it, there seems to have been no way for its diffusion
but this appointment of the most enlightened disciples
to the work of instruction.  But the New Testament
nowhere intimates, that these men were to monopolize
tile privilege of studying their religion, or of teaching
it to others. Not a single man can claim under Christianity the right to interpret it exclusively, or to impose
his interpretation on his brethren.  The Christian minister enjoys no nearer access to God, and no promise
of more immediate illumination, than other men. He
is not intrusted with the Christian records more than
they, and by these records it is both their right and duty
to try his instructions.  I have here pointed out a noble
peculiarity of Christianity.  It is the religion of liberty.
It is in no degree tainted with the passion for spiritual
power. 1" Call no man master, for ye are all brethren,"
is its free and generous inculcation, and to every form
of freedom it is a friend and defence.
We have seen that Christianity is not to be traced to
the love of power, that master passion in the authors of
false religions.  I add, that no other object of a selfish
nature could have led to its invention.  The Gospel is
not of this world. At the time of its origin no ingenuity could have brought it to bear on any private or
worldly interest. Its spirit is self-denial. Wealth, ease,
and honor, it counts among the chief perils of life, and
it insists on no duty more earnestly than on that of putting them to hazard and casting them from  us, if the
cause of truth and humanity so require.  And these




EVIDENCES OF CnRISTIANITY.         37 j
maxims were not mere speculations or rhetorical commonplaces in the times of Christ and his Apostles.
The first propagators of Christianity were called upon
to practise what they preached, to forego every interest
on its account.  They could not but foreknow, that
a religion so uncompromising and pure would array
against them the world.  They did not merely take the
chance of suffering, but were~sure that the whole weight
of scorn, pain, and worldly persecution would descend
on their heads. How inexplicable, then, is Christianity
by any selfish object, or any low aim?
The Gospel has but one object, and that too plain
to be mistaken.  In reading the New Testament, we
see the greatest simplicity of aim.  There is no lurking
purpose, no by-end, betraying itself through attempts
to disguise it.  A  perfect singleness of design runs
through the records of the religion, and is no mean
evidence of their truth.  This end of Christianity is
the moral perfection of the human soul.  It aims and
it tends, in all its doctrines, precepts, and promises, to
rescue men from the power of moral evil; to unite them
to God by filial love, and to one another in the bonds
of brotherhood; to inspire them  with a philanthropy
as meek and unconquerable as that of Christ; and to
kindle intense desire, hope, and pursuit of celestial and
immortal virtue..And now, I ask, what is the plain inference from
these views?  If Christianity can be traced to no selfish or worldly motive, if it was framed, not for dominion, not to compass any private purpose, but to raise
men above themselves, and to conform them to God,
can we help pronouncing it worthy of God? And to
whom but to God can we refer its origin? Ought we




372           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
not to recognise in the first propagators of such a faith
the holiest of men, the friends of their race, and the
messengers of Heaven?  Christianity, from  its very
nature, repels the charge of imposture.  It carries in
itself the proof of pure intention.  Bad men could not
have conceived it, much less have adopted it as the
great object of their lives.  The supposition of selfish
men giving up every private interest to spread a system
which condemned themselves, and which tended only
to purify mankind, is an absurdity as gross as can be
found in the most irrational faith.  Christianity, therefore, when tried by its Motives, approves itself to be
of God.
III. I now proceed to another and very important
ground of my belief in the divine origin of Christianity.
Its truth was attested by miracles.  Its first teachers
proved themselves the ministers of God by supernatural
works. They did what man cannot do, what bore the
impress of a divine power, and what thus sealed the
divinity of their mission.  A  religion so attested must
be true.  This topic is a great one, and I ask your
patient attention to it.
I am aware that a strong prejudice exists in some
minds against the kind of evidence which I have now
adduced.  Miracles seem  to them to carry a confutation in themselves.   The presumption against them
seems next to infinite.  In this respect, the present
times differ from  the past.  There have been ages,
when men believed any thing and every thing; and the
more monstrous the story, the more eagerly was it received by the credulous multitude.  In the progress of
knowledge men have come to see, that most of the prod



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          of72
igles and supernatural events in which their forefathers
believed, were fictions of fancy, or fear, or imposture.
The light of knowledge has put to flight the ghosts
and witches which struck terror into earlier times.  We
now know, that not a few  of -the appearances in the
heavens, which appalled nations, and were interpreted
as precursors of divine vengeance, were natural effiects.
We have learned, too, that ahighly excited imagination
can work some of the cures once ascribed to magic;
and the lesson taught us by these natural solutions of
apparent miracles, is, that accounts of supernatural
events are to be sifted with great jealousy and received
with peculiar care.
But the result of this new light thrown on nature and
history is, that some are disposed to discredit all miracles indiscriminately.  So many having proved groundless, a sweeping sentence of condemnation is passed on
all.  The human mind, by a natural reaction, has passed
from extreme credulousness, to the -excess of incredulity.  Some persons are even hardy enough to deride the
very idea of a miracle.  They pronounce the order of
nature something fixed and immutable, and all suspensions of it incredible.  This prejudice, for such it is,
seems to deserve particular attention; for, until it is
removed, the evidences of Christian miracles will have
little weight.  Let us examine it patiently and impartially.
The skeptic tells me, that the order of nature is
fixed. I ask him, By whom or by what is it fixed? By
an iron fate? By an inflexible necessity? Does not
nature bear the signatures of an  intelligent Cause?
Does not the very idea of its order imply an ordaining
or disposing Mind?  Does not the universe, the more
VOL. II,              32




374           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY,
it is explored, bear increasing testimony to a Being su.
perior to itself?  Then the order of nature is fixed by
a Will which can reverse it. Then a power equal to
miracles exists.  Then miracles are not incredible.
It may be replied, that God indeed can work miracles, but that he will not.  He will not?  And how
does the skeptic know this?  Has God so told him?
This language does not become a being of our limited
faculties; and the presumptuousness which thus makes
laws for the Creator, and restricts his agency to particular modes, is as little the spirit of true philosophy as
of religion.
The skeptic sees nothing in miracles, but ground
of offence.  To me, they seem to involve in their very
nature a truth so great, so vital, that I am not only
reconciled to them, but am disposed to receive joyfully
any sufficient proofs of their having been performed.
To the skeptic, no principle is so important as the uniformity of nature, the constancy of its laws.  To me,
there is a vastly higher truth, to which miracles bear
witness, and to which I welcome their aid. What I
wish chiefly to know is, that Mind is the supreme power
in the universe; that matter is its instrument and slave;
that there is a Will to which nature can offer no obstruction; that God is unshackled by the laws of the
universe, and controls them at his pleasure.  This absolute sovereignty of the Divine Mind over the universe,
is the only foundation of hope for the triumph of the
human mind over matter, over physical influences, over
imperfection and death.  Now it is plain, that the strong
impressions which we receive through the senses from
the material creation, joined to our experience of its
regularity, and to our instinctive trust in its future uni



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY          375
formity, do obscure this supremacy of God; do tempt
us to ascribe a kind of omnipotence to nature's laws,
and to limit our hopes to the good which is promised
by these.  There is a strong tendency in men to attach
the idea of necessity to an unchanging regularity of
operation, and to imagine bounds to a being who keeps
one undeviating path, or who repeats himself perpetually.  Hence, I say that I rejoice in miracles.  They
show and assert the supremacy of }Mind in the universe.
They manifest a spiritual power, which is in no degree
enthralled by the laws of matter.  I rejoice in these
witnesses to so great a truth.  I rejoice in whatever
proves, that this order of nature, which so often weighs
on me as a chain, and which contains no promise of
my perfection, is not supreme and immutable, and that
the Creator is not restricted to the narrow modes of
operation with which I am most familiar.
Perhaps the form in which the objection to miracles
is most frequently expressed, is the following; c It is
derogatory," says the skeptic, " to the perfect wisdom
of God, to suppose him to break in upon the order of
his own works.  It is only the unskilful artist who isobliged to thrust his hand into the machine for the
purpose of supplying its defects, and of giving it a new
impulse by an immediate agency."  To this objection
I reply, that it proceeds on false ideas of God and of
the creation.  God is not an artist, but a Moral Parent
and Governor; nor is the creation a machine.  If it
were, it might be urged with greater speciousness, that
miracles cannot be needed or required.  One of the
most striking views of the creation, is the contrast or
opposition of the elements of which it consists.  It includes not only matter but mind, not only lifeless and




376           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
unconscious Inasses, but rational beings, free agents;
and these are its noblest parts and ultimate objects.
The material universe was framed not for itself, but for
these.  Its order was not appointed for its own sake,
but to instruct and improve a higher rank of beings,
the intelligent offspring of God; and whenever a departure from this order, that is, whenever miraculous
agency can contribute to the growth and perfection of
his intelligent creatures, it is demanded by his wisdom,
goodness, and all his attributes.  If the Supreme Being
proposed only such ends as mechanism can produce,
then he might have framed a machinery so perfect and
sure as to need no suspension of its ordinary movements. But he has an incomparably nobler end. His
great purpose is to educate, to rescue from  evil, to
carry forward for ever the free, rational mind or soul;
and who that understands what a free mind is, and
what a variety of teaching and discipline it requires, will
presume to affirm, that no lights or aids, but such as
come to it through an invariable order of nature, are
necessary to unfold it?
Much of the difficulty in regard to miracles, as I
apprehend, would be removed, if we were to consider
inore particularly, that the chief distinction of intelligent beings is Moral Freedom, the power of determnining themselves to evil as well as good, and consequently the power of involving themselves in great
misery.  When God made man, he framed not a machine, but a free being, who was to rise or fall according to his use or abuse of his powers.  This capacity,
at once the most glorious and the most fearful which
we can conceive, shows us how the human' race may
have come into a condition, to which the illumination




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         877
of nature was inadequate.  In truth, the more we consider the freedom of intelligent beings, the more we
shall question the possibility of establishing an unchangeable order which will meet fully all their wants; for
such beings, having of necessity a wide range of action,
may bring themselves into a vast variety of conditions,
and of course may come to need a relief not contained
in the resources of nature.  The history of the human
race illustrates these truths.  At the introduction of
Christianity, the human family were plunged into gross
and debasing error, and the light of nature had not
served for ages to guide them back to truth.  Philosophy had done its best, and failed.  A  new element, a
new power seems to have been wanting to the progress
of the race.  That in such an exigence miraculous aid
should be imparted, accords-with our best views of
God.  I repeat it; were men mechanical beings, an
undeviating order of nature might meet all their wants.
They are free beings, who bear a moral relation to God,
and as such may need, and are worthy of, a more
various and special care than is extended over the irrational creation.
When I examine nature, I see reasons for believing
that it was not intended by God to be the only method
of instructing and improving mankind.  I see reasons,
as I think, why its order or regular course should be
occasionally suspended, and why revelation should be
joined to it in the work of carrying forward the race.
I can offer only a few considerations on this point, but
they seem to me worthy of serious attention. - The first
is, that a fixed, invariable order of nature does not give
us some views of God which are of great interest and
importance, or at least it does not give them with that
32 




378           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITtV.
distinctness which we all desire. It reveals hin as tile
Universal Sovereign who provides for the whole or for
the general weal, but not, with sufficient clearness, as
a tender' father, interested in the Individual. I see, in
this fixed order, his care of the race, but not his constant, boundless concern for myself.  Nature speaks of
a general Divinity, not of the friend and benefactor of
each living soul.  This is a necessary defect attending
an inflexible, unvarying administration by general laws;
and it seems to require that God, to carry forward the
race, should reveal himself by some other manner than
by general laws. No conviction is more important to
human improvement than that of God's paternal interest
in every human being; and how can he communicate
this persuasion so effectually, as by suspending nature's
order, to teach, through an inspired messenger, his par
ternal love?
MyT second remark is, that, whilst nature teaches many
important lessons, it is not a direct, urgent teacher,
Its truths are not prominent, and consequently men may
neglect it, and place themselves beyond its influence.
For example, nature holds out the doctrine of One
God, but does not compel attention to it. God's name
is not written in the sky in letters of light, which all
nations must read, nor sounded abroad in a voice, deep
and awful as thunders, so that all must hear.  Nature
is a gentle, I had almost said, a reserved teacher, demanding patient thought in the learner, and may therefore be unheeded.  Men may easily shut their ears and
harden their hearts against its testimony to God.  Accordingly we learn, that, at Christ's coming, almost all
nations had lost the knowledge of the true glory of the
Creator, and given themselves up to gross superstitions.




sVIDENCtS OF CHRISTIANITY.         379
To such a condition of the world, nature's indirect and
unimposing mode of instruction is not fitted, and thus it
furnishes a reason for a more immediate and impressive
teaching. In such a season of moral darkness, was it not
worthy of God to kindle another and more quickening
beam? When the long repeated and almost monotonous
language of creation was not heard, was it unworthy of
God to speak with a new and more startling voice?
What fitter method was there for rousing those whom
nature's quiet regularity could not teach, than to interrupt its usual course?
I proceed to another reason for expecting revelation
to be added to the light of nature.  Nature, I have
said, is not a direct or urgent teacher, and men may
place themselves beyond its voice.  I say, thirdly, that
there is one great point, on which we are deeply concerned to know the truth, and which is yet taught so
indistinctly by nature, that men, however disposed to
learn, cannot by that light alone obtain full conviction.
What, let me ask, is the question in which each man
has the deepest interest?  It is this, Are we to live
again; or is this life all? Does the principle of thought
perish with the body; or does it survive?  And if it
survive, where? how  in what condition? under what
law?  There is an inward:voice which speaks of judgment to come. Will judgment indeed come? and if so,
what award may we hope or fear?  The Future state
of man, this is the great question forced on us by our
changing life, and by approaching death.  I will not
say, that on this topic nature throws no light.  I think
it does; and this light continually grows brighter to them
whose eyes revelation has couched and made strong
To see.  iBut nature alone does not meet our wants.  I




380           EVIDENCES OF CHBISTIANITY.
might prove this by referring you to the ages precede
ing Christ, when the anxious spirit of man constantly
sought to penetrate the gloom beyond the grave, when
imagination and philosophy alike plunged into the future,
but found no resting-place.  But every man must feels
that, left to nature as his only guide, he must wander in
doubt as to the life to come.  Where, but from  God
himself, can I learn my destination?  I ask at the
mouth of the tomb for intelligence of the departed, and
the tomb gives me no reply.  I examine the various
regions of nature, but I can discover no process for
restoring the mouldering body, and no sign or track of
the spirit's ascent to another sphere.. I see the need
of a power above nature to restore or perpetuate life
after death; and if God intended to give assurance of
this life, I see not how he can do it but by supernatural
teaching, by a miraculous revelation.  Miracles are the
appropriate, and would seem to be the only mode of
placing beyond doubt man's future and immortal being;
and no miracles can be conceived so peculiarly adapted
to. this end as the very ones which hold the highest
place in Christianity, — I mean the resurrection of
Lazarus, and, still more, the resurrection of Jesus.
No man will deny, that, of all truths, a future state is
most strengthening to virtue and consoling to humanity.
Is it then unworthy of God to employ miracles for the
awakening or the confirmation of this hope?  May they
not even be expected, if nature, as we have seen, sheds
but a faint light on this most interesting of all verities?
I add one more consideration in support of the position, that nature was not intended to be God's only
method of teaching mankind.  In surveying the human
mind, we discover a principle which singularly fits it to




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         381
be wrought upon and benefited by miraculous agency,
and which might therefore lead us to expect such interposition.  I refer to that principle of our nature, by
which we become in a measure insensible or indifferent to what is familiar, but are roused to attention and
deep interest by what is singular, strange, supernatural.
This principle of wonder is an important part of our
constitution; and that God should employ it in the
work of our education, is what reason might anticipate.
I see, then, a foundation for miracles in the human
mind; and, when I consider that the mind is God's noblest work, I ought to look to this as the interpreter
of his designs.  We are plainly so constituted, that the
order of nature, the more it is fixed, excites us the less.
Our interest is blunted by its ceaseless uniformity.  On
the contrary, departures from this order powerfully stir
the soul, break up its old and slumbering habits of
thought, turn it with a new solicitude to the Almighty
Interposer, and prepare it to receive with awe the communications of his will.  Was it unworthy of God, who
gave us this sensibility to the wonderful, to appeal to it
for the recovery of his creatures to himself?
I here close my remarks on the great objection of
skepticism, that miracles are inconsistent with the divine
perfections; that the Supreme Being, having established
an order of operation, cannot be expected to depart
from it.  To me, such reasoning, if reasoning it may be
called, is of no weight. When I consider God's pa —
ternal and moral relation to mankind, and his interest in
their progress; when I consider how accordant it is
with his character that he should make himself known
to them by methods most fitted to awaken the mind and
heart to his goodness; when I consider the need we




382.         EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
have of illumination in regard to the future life, more dis4
tinct and full than the creation affords; when I consider
the constitution and condition of man, his free agency,
and the corruption into which he had fallen; when'I
consider how little benefit a being so depraved was likely to derive from an order of nature to which he had
grown familiar, and how plainly the mind is fitted to. be
quickened by miraculous interposition;- I say, when
I take all these things into view, I see, as I think, a
foundation in nature for supernatural light and aid, and I
discern in a miraculous revelation, such as Christianity,
a provision suited at once to the firame and wants of the
human soul, and to the perfections of its Author.
There are other objections to miracles, though less
avowed, than that which I have now considered, yet
perhaps not less influential, and probably operating on
many minds so secretly as to be unperceived.  At two
of these I will just glance.  Not a few, I am confident,
have doubts of the Christian miracles, because they see
none now. Were their skepticism to clothe itself in language, it would say, " Show  us miracles, and we will
believe them.  We suspect them, because they are
confined to the past." Now this objection is a childish
one.  It may be resolved into the principle, that nothing in the past is worthy of belief, which is not repeated
in the present. Admit this, and where will incredulity
stop? How many forms and institutions of society.
recorded in ancient history, have passed away.  Has
history, then, no title to respect?  If indeed the human
race were standing still, if one age were merely a copy
of preceding ones, if each had precisely the same wants,
then the miracles required at one period would be reproduced in all. But who does not know that there is a




EVIDENCES OF CIIRISTIANITY.        383
progress in human affairs? that formerly mankind were
in a different stage from that through which they are
now passing? that of course the education of the race
must be varied? and that miracles, important once, may
be superfluous now?  Shall we bind the Creator to
invariable modes of teaching and training a race whose
capacities and wants are undergoing a perpetual chanrge?
Because in periods of thick darkness God introduced a
new religion by supernatural works, shall we expect
these works to be repeated, when the darkness is scattered and their end attained?  Who does not see that
miracles, fronm their very nature, inust be rare, occasional, limited?  Would not their power be impaired
by frequency? and would it not wholly cease, were
they so far multiplied as to seem a part of the order of
nature?
The objection I am  now considering, shows us the
true character of skepticism.  Skepticism is essentially
a narrowness of mind, which makes the present moment
the measure of the past and future.  It is the creature
of sense.  In the midst of a boundless universe, it can
conceive no mode of operation but what falls under
its immediate observation.  The visible, the present, is
every thing to the unbeliever.  Let him but enlarge his
views; let him look round on the immensity of the universe; let him  consider the infinity of resources which
are comprehended in omnipotence; let him represent to
himself the manifold stages through which the human
race is appointed to-pass; let him remember that the
education of the ever-growing mind must require a
great variety of discipline; and especially let him admit
the sublime thought, of which the germ  is found in
nature, that man was created to be trained for, and to




384          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY
ascend to, an incomparably higher order of existence
than the present, -and he will see the childishness of
making his narrow experience the standard of all that
is past and is to come in human history.
It is strange, indeed, that men of science should fall
into this error.  The improved science of the present
day teaches them, that this globe of ours, which seems
so unchangeable, is not now what it was a few thousand
years ago.  They find proofs by digging into the earth,
that this globe was inhabited before the existence of
the human race, by classes of animals which have perished, and the ocean peopled by races now unknown9
and that the human race are occupying a ruined and
restored world.  Men of science should learn to free
themselves from the vulgar narrowness which sees nothing in the past but the present, and should learn the
stupendous and infinite variety of the dispensations of
God.
There is another objection to miracles, and the last
to be now considered, which is drawn from  the wellknown fact, that pretended miracles crowd the pages
of ancient history. No falsehoods, we are told, have
been more common than accounts of prodigies, and
therefore the miraculous character of Christianity is a
presumption against its truth.  I acknowledge that this
argument has its weight; and I am ready to say, that,
did I know nothing of Christianity, but that it was a
religion full of miracles; did I know nothing of its
doctrines, its purpose, its influences, and whole history,
I should suspect it as much as the unbeliever.  There
is a strong presumption against miracles, considered
nakedly, or separated from their design and from all
circumstances which explain and support them. There




EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          385
is a like presumption against events not miraculous, but
of an extraordinary character.. But this is only a reason for severe scrutiny and slow belief, not for resisting
strong and multiplied proofs. I blame no man for doubting a report of miracles when first brought to his ears.
Thousands of absurd prodigies have been created by
ignorance and fanaticism, and thousands  more been
forged by imposture.  I invite you, then, to try scrupulously the miracles of Christianity; and, if they bear
the marks of the superstitious legends of false religions,
do not spare them.  I only ask for them  a fair hearing
and: calm investigation.
It is plainly no sufficient argument for rejecting all
miracles, that men have believed in many which are
false.  If you go back to the times when miraculous
stories were swallowed most greedily, and read the
books then written on history, geography, and natural
science, you will find all of them crowded with error;
but do they therefore contain nothing worthy your trust?
is there not a vein of truth running through the prevalent falsehood?  And cannot a sagacious mind very
often detach the real from the fictitious, explain the origin of many mistakes, distinguish the judicious and honest from  the credulous or interested narrator, and by
a comparison of testimonies:detect the latent truth?
Where will you stop, if you start with believing nothing
on points where former ages have gone astray?  You
must pronounce all religion and all morality to be delu.
sion, for on both topics men have grossly erred.  Nothing is more unworthy of a philosopher, than to found a
universal censure on a limited number of unfavorable
facts.  This is much like the reasoning of the misanthrope, who, because he sees much vice, infers that
VOL. MIx.              33




386           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
there is no virtue, and, because he has sometimes been
deceived, pronounces all men hypocrites.
I maintain that the multiplicity of false miracles, far
from disproving, gives support to those on which Christianity rests; for, first, there is generally some foundation for falsehood, especially when it obtains general
belief. The love of truth is an essential principle of
human nature; men generally embrace error on account
of some precious ingredient of truth mixed with it, and
for the time inseparable from it.  The universal belief
of past ages in miraculous interpositions, is to me a
presumption that miracles have entered into human history. Will the unbeliever say, that it only shows the
insatiable thirst of the human mind for the supernatural?
I reply, that, in this reasoning, he furnishes a weapon
against himself; for a strong principle in the human
mind, impelling men to seek for and to cling to miraculous agency, affords a presumption that the Author of
our being, by whom this thirst for the supernatural was
given, intended to furnish objects for it, and to assign it
a place in the education of the race.
But I observe, in the next place, and it is an observation of great importance, that the exploded miracles
of ancient times, if carefully examined, not only furnish
a general presumption in favor of the existence of genuine ones, but yield strong proof of the truth of those
in particular upon which Christianity rests.  I say to
the skeptic, You affirm  nothing but truth in declaring
history to abound in false miracles; I agree with you
in exploding by far the greater part of the supernatural
accounts of which ancient religions boast.  But how
do we know these to be false?  We do not so judge
without proofs.  We discern in them the marks of de



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         387
lusion. Now I ask you to examine these marks, and
then to answer me honestly, whether you find them  in
the miracles of Christianity.  Is there not a broad line
between Christ's works and those which we both agree
in rejecting?  I maintain that there is, and that nothing
but ignorance can confound the Christian miracles with
the prodigies of heathenism.  The contrast between
them is so strong as to forbid us to refer them to a common origin.  The miracles of superstition carry the
brand of falsehood in their own nature, and are disproved by the circumstances under which they were
imposed on the multitude.  The objects, for which they
are said to have been wrought, are such as do not require or justify a divine interposition.  Many of them
are absurd, childish, or extravagant, and betray a weak
intellect or diseased imagination.  iN'any can be explained by natural causes.  MIany are attested by persons who lived in different countries and ages, and
enjoyed no opportunities of inquiring into their truth.
We can see the origin of many in the self-interest of
those who forged them, and can account for their reception by the condition of the world.  In other words,
these spurious miracles were the natural growth of the
ignorance, passions, prejudices, and corruptions of the
times, and tended to confirm  them.  Now  it is not
enough to say, that these various marks of falsehood
cannot be found in the Christian miracles.  We find
in thenl characters directly the reverse.  They were
wrought for an end worthy of God; they were wrought
in an age of improvement; they are marked by a majesty, beneficence, unostentatious simplicity, and wisdorn,
which separate them immeasurably from the dreams of
a disordered fancy or the contrivances of imposture.




388          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
They can be explained by no interests, passions, or prejudices of men.  They are parts of a religion, which was
singularly at variance with established ideas and expectations, which breathes purity and benevolence, which
transcended the improvements of the age, and which
thus carries with it the presumption of a divine original.
Whence this immense distance between the: two classes
of miracles? Will you trace both to one source, and
that a polluted one?  Will you ascribe to one spirit,
works as different as: light and darkness, as earth and
heaven? I am not, then, shaken in my faith by the false
miracles of other religions.  I have no desire to keep
them out of sight,; I summon them as my witnesses.
They show me how naturally imposture and superstition
leave the stamp of themselves on their fictions. They
show how man, when he aspires to counterfeit God's
agency, betrays more signally his impotence and folly.
When I place side by side the mighty works of Jesus
and the prodigies of heathenism, I see that they can no
more be compared with one another, than the machinery
and mock thunders of the theatre can be likened to the
awful and beneficent powers of the universe.
In the preceding remarks on miracles, I have aimed
chiefly to meet those general objections by which many
are prejudiced against supernatural interpositions universally, and are disinclined to weigh any proof in their
support.  Hoping that this weak skepticism  has been
shown to want foundation in nature and reason, I proceed now to state more particularly the principal grounds
on which I believe that the miracles ascribed to Jesus
and the first propagators of Christianity, were actually
wrought in attestation of its truth.
The evidences of facts are of two kinds, presumptive




EVIDENCES OP CHRISTIANITY.          359
and direct, and both meet in support of Christian miraales.  First, there are strong presumptions in its favor.
To this class of proofs, belong the views already given
of the accordance of revelation and miracles with the
wants and principles of human nature, with the perfections of God, with his relations to his human family, and
with his ordinary providence. These I need not repeat.
I will only observe, that a strong presumption in support
of the miracles arises from the importance of the religion to which they belong.  If I were told of supernatural works performed to prove, that three are more than
one, or that human life requires food for its support, I
should know  that they were false.  The presumption
against them would be invincible.  The author of nature
could never supersede its wise and stupendous order to
teach what falls within the knowledge of every child.
Extraordinary interpositions of God suppose that truths
of extraordinary dignity and beneficence are to be imparted.  Now, in Christianity, I find  truths of transcendent importance, which throw into shade all the discoveries of science, and which give a new character,
aim, and interest, to our existence.  Here is a fit occasion for supernatural interposition.  A presumption exists in favor of miracles, by which a religion so worthy
of God is sustained.
But a presumption in favor of facts, is not enough.
It indeed adds much force to the direct proofs; still
these are needed, nor are they wanting to Christianity.
The direct proofs of facts are chiefly of two kinds;'hey consist of testimony, oral or written, and of effects,
-races, monuments, which the facts have left behind
them.  The Christian miracles are supported by both..-We have first the most unexceptionable Testimo3.




390          EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
ny, nothing less than that of contemporaries and eye"
witnesses, of the companions of Jesus and the first
propagators of his religion.  We have the testimony of
men who could not have been deceived as to the facts
which they report; who bore their witness amidst perils
and persecutions; who bore it on the very spot where
their Master lived and died; who had nothing to gain,
and every thing to lose, if their testimony were false;
whose writings breathe the sincerest love of virtue and
of mankind; and who at last sealed their attestations
with their blood.  5More unexceptionable witnesses to
facts cannot be produced or conceived.
Do you say, 1' These witnesses lived ages ago; could
we hear these accounts from  their own lips, we should
be satisfied"? I answer, You have something better
than their own lips, or than their own word taken alone.
You have, as has been proved, their writings.  Perhaps you hear with some surprise that a book may be
a better witness than its author; but nothing is more
true, and I will illustrate it by an imaginary case in our
own times.
Suppose, then, that a man claiming to be an eyewitness should relate to me the events of the three
memorable days of July, in which the last revolution
of France was achieved; suppose next, that a book,
a history-of that revolution, published and received as
true in France, should be sent to me from that country.
Which is the best evidence of the facts? J say the
last.  A single witness may deceive; but that a writer
should publish in France the history of a revolution,
which never occurred there, or which differed essentially
from the true one, is, in the highest degree, improbable;
and that such a history should obtain currency, that it




EVDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.           391
should not be instantly branded as a lie, is utterly impos.
sible.  A history received by a people as true, not only
gives us the testimony of the writer, but the testimony
of the nation among whom  it obtains credit.  It is a
concentration of thousands of voices, of many thousand
witnesses.  I say, then, that the writings of the first
teachers of Christianity, received as they were by the
multitude of Christians in their own times and in those
which immediately followed, are the testimonies of that
multitude as well as of the writers.  Thousands, nearest
to the events, join in bearing testimony to the Christian
miracles.
But there is another class of evidence, sometimes
more powerful than direct witnesses, and this belongs to
Christianity.  Facts are often placed beyond doubt by
the effects which they leave behind them.  This is the
case with the miracles of Christ.  Let me explain this
branch of evidence.  I am told, when absent and distant from your city, that on a certain day, a tide, such as
had never been known, rose in your harbour, overflowed
your wharves, and rushed into your streets; I doubt the
fact; but hastening here, I see what were once streets,
strewed with sea-weed, and shells, and the ruins of
houses, and I cease to doubt.  A witness may deceive,
but such effects cannot lie.  All great events leave
effects, and these speak directly of the cause. What, I
ask, are the proofs of the American revolution? Have
we none but written or oral testimony?  Our free constitution, the whole form of our society, the language
and spirit of our laws, all these bear witness to our English origin, and to our successful conflict for independence.  Now  the miracles of Christianity  have left
effects, which equally attest their reality, and cannot be




392          RVfDEI CEfS  Of CHFIlSTIAN.IT.
explained without them.  I go back to the age of Jesta.
Christ, and I am immediately struck with the commencement and rapid progress of the most remarkable'
revolultion in the annals of the world.  I see a new religion, of a character altogether its own, which bore no
likeness to any past or existing faith, spreading. in a few
years through all civilized nations, and; introducing a new
era, a new state of society, a change of the human mind,
which has broadly distinguished all following ages. Here
is a plain fact, which the skeptic will not deny, however
fhe may explain it.  I see this religion issuing from an
obscure, despised, hated people.  Its founder had died
on the cross, a mode of punishment as disgraceful as the
pillory or gallows of the present day.  Its teachers were
poor men, without rank, office, or education, taken from
the fishing-boat and other occupations whi;.ch had never
furnished teachers to mankind.  I see these men beginning their work on the spot where their Master's blood
had been shed, as of a common malefactor; and I hear
them summoning first his murderers, and then all nations
and all ranks, the sovereign on the throne, the priest in
the temple,. the great and the learned, as well as the poor
and the ignorant, to renounce the faith and the worship
which had been hallowed by the veneration of all ages,.
and to take the yoke of their crucified Lord.  I see
passion and prejudice, the sword of the magistrate, the
curse of the priest, the scorn of the philosopher, and
the fury of the populace, joined to crush this common
enemy; and yet, without a human weapon and in opposition to all human power, I see the humble Apostles of
Jesus winning their way, overpowering prejudice, breaking the ranks of their opposers, changing enemies into
friends, breathing into multitudes a calm spirit of mar



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.         393
tyrdom, and carrying to the bounds of civilization, and
even into half-civilized regions, a religion which has contributed to advance society more than all other causes
combined.  Here is the effect.  Here is 1 monument
more durable than pillars or triumphal aiones.  Now I
ask for an explanation of these effects. If Jesus Christ
and his Apostles were indeed sent and empowered by
God, and wrought miracles in attestation of their mission, then the establishment of Christianity is explained.
Suppose them, on the other hand, to have been insane
enthlusiasts, or selfish impostors, left to meet the whole
strength of human opposition, with nothing but their own
power or rather their own weakness, and you have no
cause for the stupendous effect I have described.  Such
men could no more have changed the face of the world,
than they could have turned back rivers to their sources,
sunk mountains into valleys, or raised valleys to the
skies.  Christianity, then, has not only the evidence of
unexceptionable witnesses, but that of effects; a proof
which will grow stronger by comparing its progress with
that of other religions, such as Mahometanism, which
sprung from human passions, and were advanced by human power.
IV. Having given my views on the subject of Christian miracles, I now pass to the last topic of this discourse.  Its extent and importance will lead me to enlarge upon it in a subsequent discourse; but a discussion
of Christian evidences, in which it should find no place,
would be essentially defective.  I refer to the proof of
Christianity derived from the Character of its Author.
The character of Jesus was Original.  He formed a
new era in the moral history of the human race. His




394          EVIDENCES OF GHRISTIANITY.
perfection was not that of his age, nor a copy of the
greatness which had long engrossed the world's admiration. Jesus stood apart from other men. He borrowed
from none and leaned on none.  Surrounded by men of
low thoughts, he rose to the conception of a higher form
of human virtue than had yet been realized or imagined,
and deliberately devoted himself to its 1promotion, as the
supreme object of his life and death.  Conscious of being dedicated to this great work, hle spoke with a calm
dignity- an unaffected elevation, which separated him
from all other teachers.  URsupported, he never wavered; sufficient to himself, he refused alliance with wealth
or power. Yet, with all this self-subsistence and uncompromising energy, his character was the mildest, the
gentlest, the most attractive, ever manifested among men,
It could not have been a fiction, for who could have
conceived it, or who could have embodied the conception in such a life as Jesus is said to have led, in actions,
words, manners, so natural and unstudied, so imbued
with reality, so worthy of the Son of God?
The great distinction of Jesus was a philanthropy
without mixture and without bounds; a philanthropy,
uniting grandeur and meekness in beautiful proportions;
a philanthropy, as wise as it was fervent, which comprehended the true wants and the true good of man, which
compassionated, indeed, his sufferings from  abroad, but
which saw in the soul the deep fountain of his miseries,
and labored), by regenerating this, to b)ring him to a pure
and enduring happiness.  So peculiar, so; unparalleled
was the benevolence of Jesus, that it has impressed itself oil all future times.  There went forth a virtue, a
beneficent influence from his character, which operates
even now.  Since the death of Christ, a spirit of htt



EVIDENCES OF CMRISTIANITY.          395
inanity, unknown before, has silently diffused itself over
a considerable portion of tile earth.  A  new standard
of virtue has gradually possessed itself of the veneration
of men.  A  new power has been acting on society,
which has done more than all other causes combined, to
disarm the selfish passions, and to bind men strongly to
one another and to God.  What a monument have we
here to the virtue of Jesus 1 and if Christianity has such
a Founder, it must have come from Heaven.
There are other remarkable proofs of the power and
elevation of the character of Christ.  It has touched
and conciliated not a few of the determined adversaries
of his religion.  Infidelity, whilst it has laid unsparing
hands on the system, has generally shrunk from offering
violence to its Author.  In truth, unbelievers have occasionally borne eloquent testimony to the benignant and
celestial virtues of Jesus; and I record this with pleasure, not only as honorable to Christianity, but as showing that unbelief does not universally sear the moral
feelings, or breathe hostility to goodness.  Nor is this
all.  The character of Christ has withstood the most
deadly and irresistible foe of error and unfounded claims,
I mean, Time.  It has lost nothing of its elevation by
the improvements of ages.  Since he appeared, society
has gone forward, men's views have become enlarged,
and philosophy has risen to conceptions of far purer virtues than were the boast of antiquity.  But, however
the human mind may have advanced, it must still look
upward, if it would see and understand Christ. He is
still above it. Nothing purer, nobler, has yet dawned
on human thoughts.  Then Christianity is true.  The
delineation of Jesus in the Gospels, so warm with life,
and so unrivalled in loveliness and grandeur, required the




396          EVIDENCES OP C1iRISTJANITY.
existence of an original. To suppose that this character
was invented by unprincipled men, amidst Jewish and
heathen darkness, and was then imposed as a reality in
the very age of the founder of Christianity, argues an
excess of credulity, and a strange ignorance of the
powers and principles of human nature.  The character
of Jesus was real; and if so, Jesus must have been
what he professed to be, the Son of God and the revealer of his mercy and his will to mankind.
I have now completed what I proposed in this discourse.  I have laid before you some of the principal
evidences of Christianity.  I have aimed to state them
without exaggeration.  That an honest mind, which
thoroughly comprellends them, can deny their force,
seems to me hardly possible.  Stronger proofs may indeed be conceived; but it is doubtful, whether these
could be given in consistency with our moral nature, and
with the moral government of God.  Such a government requires, that truth should not be forced on the
mind, but that we should be left to gain it, by an upright
use of our understandings, and by conforming ourselves
to what we have already learned. God might indeed
shed on us an overpowering light, so that it would bhe
impossible for us to lose our way; but in so doing, hpe
would annihilate an important part of our present probation. It is then no objection to Christianity, that its
evidences are not the very strongest which might be
given, and that they do not extort universal assent.  In
this respect, it accords with other great truths. These
are not forced on our belief.  Whoever will, may shut
his eyes on their proofs, and array against them objections. In the measure of evidence with which Christi



EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.          397
anity is accompanied, I see a just respect for the freedom of the mind, and a wise adaptation to that moral
nature, which it is the great aim of this religion to carry
forward to perfection.
I close as I began. I am not ashamed of the gospel
of Christ; for it is True.  It is true: and its truth is to
break forth more and more gloriously.  Of this I have
not a doubt.  I know indeed that our religion has been
questioned even by intelligent and good men; but this
does not shake my faith in its divine original or in its ultimate triumphs.  Such men have questioned it, because
they have known it chiefly by its corruptions.  In pro
portion as its original simplicity shall be restored, the'doubts of the well-disposed will yield.  I have no fears
from  infidelity; especially firom  that form of it, which
some are at this moment laboring to spread through our
country; I mean, that insane, desperate unbelief, which
strives to quench the light of nature as well as of revelation, and to leave us, not only without Christ, but without God.  This I dread no more than I should fear the
efforts of men to pluck the sun from his sphere, or to
storm  the skies with the artillery of the earth.  We
were made for religion; and unless the enemies of our
faith can change our nature, they will leave the foundation of religion unshaken.  The human soul was created
to look above material nature.  It wants a Deity for its
love and trust, an Immortality for its hope.  It wants
consolations not found in philosophy, wants strength in
temptation, sorrow, and death, which human wisdom
cannot minister; and knowing as I do, that Christianity
meets these deep wants of men, I have no fear or
doubt as to its triunmphs.  IMe catnnot long live without
VOL. III.             34




39$           EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
religion.  In France there is a spreading dissatisfaction
with the skeptical spirit of the past generation.  A philosopher in that country would now blush to quote Voltaire as an authority in religion.  Already Atheism  is'dumb where once it seemed to bear sway.  The greatest minds in France are working back their way to the
light of truth.  Many of them  indeed cannot yet be
called Christians; but their path, like that of the wise
men of old who carne star-guided from  the East, is
towards Christ.  I am not ashamed of the Gospel of
Chlrist.  It has an immortal life, and will gather strength
from the violence of its foes. lt is equal to all the wants
of men.  The greatest minds have found in it the light
which they most anxiously desired. The most sorrowBill and broken spirits have found in it a healing balm for,
their woes.  It has inspired the sublimest virtues and
the loftiest hopes.  For the curruptions of such a religion I weep, and I should blush to be their advocate;
but of the Gospel itself, I can never be ashamed.
END OF VOL. All.












THE
W T0 R K S
OF
WILLIAM E. CHANNING, D. D.
TWELFTH COMPLETE EDITION,
WITlI
AN INTRODUCTION.
VOL. IV.
BOSTON:
CROSBY, NICHOLS, AND COMPANY.
NEW YORK:
C. S. FRANCIS AND COMPANY.
18 5D 3.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by
GEORGE  G. CHANNING,
in tne Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massacnusetm
Printed by
MUNROE AND FRANCIS
B o s t o n.




CONTENTS OF VOL. IV.
PAGE
CHARACTER OF CHRIS..                               7
CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.                  31
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM: DISCOURSE AT THE ANNUAL ELECTION,
MAY 26, 1830..                                 67
SELF-DENIAL..    105
THE IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER.. 135
THE EVIL OF SIN.. 151
IMMORTALITY........,...                       169
LOVE TO CHRIST.. 183
LOVE TO CHRIST.                                    199
THE FUTURE LIFE......217
WAR........,, 237
MINISTRY FOR THE POOR: DISCOURSE BEFORE'THE BENEVO.
LENT FRATERNITY OF CHURCHES.. 265
CHRISTIAN WORSHIP: DISCOURSE AT THE DELi1,I!ON OF THE
UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, NEWPORT, RHODE
ISLAND.....,.       303
THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL: DISCOURSE PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE
SUNDAY - SCHOOL SOCIETY.                       355
tHE PHILANTHROPIST: A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE
REV. NOAH WORCESTER, D. D..                   387








DISCOU RSES.








CHARACTER OF CHRIST.
M'ATTHREW XVii. 5: 1' This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well
pleased."
THEIE character of Christ may be studied for various
purposes.  It is singularly fitted to call forth the heart,
to awaken love, admiration, and moral delight.  As an
example, it has no rival.  As an evidence of his religion, perhaps it yields to no other proof; perhaps no
other has so often conquered unbelief.  It is chiefly
to this last view of it, that I now ask your attention.
The character of Christ is a strong confirmation of the
truth of his religion.  As such, I wolld row  place it
before you.  I shall not, however, think only of confirming your faithl; the very illustrations, which I shall
adduce for this pulrpose, wvill show the claims of Jesus to
our reverence, obedience, imitation, and fervent love.
The more we contemplate Christ's character, as exhibited in the Gospel, the more wve shall be impressed
with its genuineness and reality.  It was plainly drawn
frotm tlhe life.  The narratives of the Evangelists bear
the marks of truth, perhaps beyond all other histories.
They set before us the most extraordinary being who
ever appeared on earth, and yet tlhey are as artless as




8                CHARACTER OF CHRIST.
the stories of childhood.  The authors do not think of
themselves. They have plainly but one aim, to show us
their Master; and they manifest the deep veneration
which he inspired, by leaving him to reveal himself,
by giving us his actions and sayings without comment,
explanation, or eulogy.  You see in these narratives
no varnishing, no high coloring, no attempts to make
his actions striking, or to bring out the beauties of his
character.  We are never pointed to any circumstance
as illustrative of his greatness.  The Evangelists write
with a calm trust in his character, with a feeling that
it needed no aid firom  their hands, and with a deep
veneration, as if commeint or praise of their own were
not worthy to mingle with the recital of such a life.
It is the effect of our familiarity with the history of
Jesus, that we are not struck by it as we ought to be.
We read it before we are capable of understanding its
excellence.  His stupendous works become as familiar
to us as the events of ordinary life,:and his high offices
seem  as much matters of course, as the common relations wvhich men bear to each other.  On this account,
it is fit for the ministers of religion to do what the
Evangelists did not attempt, to offer comments on
Christ's character, to bring out its features, to point
men to its higher beauties, to awaken their awe by unfolding its wonderful majesty.  Indeed, one of our most
important functions, as teachers, is to give freshness
and vividness to truths which have become worn, I had
almost said tarnished, by long and familiar handling.
We have to fight with the power of habit.  Through
habit, men look on this glorious creation with insensibility, and are less movred by the all-enlightening sun
than by a show of fire-works. It is the duty of a moral




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.                9
and religious teacher, almost to create a new sense in
men, that they may learn in what a wrorld of beauty and
magnificence they live.  And so in regard to Christ's
character; men become used to it, until they ilnagine,
that there is somethino more admirable in a great man
of their own day, a statesman or a conqueror, than in
Him, the latchet of whose shoes statesmen and conquerors are not worthy to unloose.
In this discourse, I wish to show that the character
of Christ, taken as a whole, is one which could not
have entered the thoughts of man, could not have been
imagined or feigned; that it bears every mark of genuineness and truth; that it ought therefore to be acknowledged as real and of divine original.
It is all-important, my friends, if we would feel the
force of this argument, to transport ourselves to the
times when Jesus lived.  NWe are very apt to think, that
he was moving about in such a city as this, or among
a people agreeing with ourselves in modes of thinking and habits of life.  But the truth is, he lived in a
state of society singularly remote fiom  our own.  Of
all nations, the Jewish was the most strongly marked.
The Jew  hardly felt himself to belong to the human
family.  Hie was accustomed to speak of himself as
chosen by God, holy, clean; whilst the Gentiles were
sinners, dogs, polluted, unclean.  His common dress,
the phylactery on his brow  or arm, the hem  of his
garment, his food, the ordinary circumstances of his
life, as well as his temple, his sacrifices, his ablutions,
all held him  up to himself, as a peculiar favorite of
God, and all separated him  from the rest of the world.
With other nations he could not eat or marry.  They




;1  CHARACTERt 0'OF CUHRIST.
were unworthy of his communion.  Still, with all these
notions of superiority, he saw  himself conquered by
those whom he despised. He was obliged to wear the
shackles of Rome, to see Roman legions in his territory, a Roman guard near his temple, and a Roman
tax-gatherer extorting, for the support of an idolatrous
government and an idolatrous worship, what he regarded as due only to God.  The hatred which burned
in the breast of the Jew towards his foreign oppressor,
perhaps never glowed with equal intenseness in any other conquered state.  He had, however, his secret consolation.  The time was near, the prophetic age was
at hand, when Judea was to break her chains and rise
from  the dust.  Her long-promised king and deliverer
was near, and was coming to wear the crown of universal empire.  From  Jerusalem  was to go forth his
law, and all nations were to serve the chosen people
of God.  To this conqueror the Jews indeed ascribed
the office of promoting religion; but the religion of
Moses, corrupted into an outward service, was to them
the perfection  of human nature.  They clung to its
forms with the whole energy of their souls.  To the
Mosaic institution, they ascribed their distinction from
all other nations.  It lay at the foundation of their hopes
of dominion.  I believe no strength of prejudice ever
equalled the intense attachment of the Jew to his peculiar national religion.  You may judge of its power by
the fact of its having been transmitted through so many
ages, amidst persecution and sufferings which would
have subdued any spirit but that of a Jew.  You must
bring these things to your mind.  You lmust place yourselves in the midst of this singular people.
Among this singular people, burning with impatient




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.             11
expectation, appeared Jesus of Nazareth.  His, first
words were, "c Repent, for the kingdom of heaven, is at
hand."  These words we hear with little emotion; but
to the Jews, who had been watching for this kingdom
for ages, and who were looking for its immediate manifestation, they must have been awakening as an earthquake.  Accordingly we find Jesus thronged by multitudes which no building could contain.  He repairs to a
mountain, as affording him advantages for addressing
the crowd. I see them surrounding him with eager
looks, and ready to drink in every word from his lips.
And what do I hear? Not one word of Judea, of
Rome, of freedom, of conquest, of the glories of God's
chosen people, and of' the thronging of all nations to
the temple on Miount Zion.  Almost every word was
a death-blow to the hopes and feelingS, which glowed
through the whole people, and were consecrated under
the name of religion. He speaks of the long-expected
Kingdom  of Heaven; but speaks of it as a felicity
promised to, and only to be partaken by, the humble
and pure in heart.  The righteousness of the Pharisees,
that which was deemed the perfection of religion, and
which the new deliverer was expected to spread far
and wide, he pronounces worthless, and declares the
kingdom  of Heaven, or of the Messiah, to be shut
against all who do not cultivate a new, spiritual, and
disinterested virtue.  Instead of war and victory, 1e
commands his impatient hearers to love, to forgive,
to bless their enemies; and holds forth this spirit of
benignity, mercy, peace, as the special badge of the
people of the true Messiah.  Instead of national interests and glories, lie commands them to seek first a
spirit of impartial charity and love, unconfined by t-he




12               CU-1ARACTER  OF CHRIST.
bounds of tribe or nation, and proclaims this to be the
happiness and honor of the reign for which they hoped.
Instead of this world's riches, which they expected to
flow from all lands into their own, he commands them
to lay up treasures in heaven, and directs them to an
incorruptible, immortal life, as the true end of their
being.  Nor is this all., He does not merely offer himself as a spiritual deliverer, as the founder of a new
empire of inward piety and universal charity; he closes
with language announcing a more mysterious office.' I Many will say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord,
have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name
done many wonderful works?  And then will I profess
unto them, I never knew you; depart from me, ye that
work iniquity."  Here I meet the annunciation of a
character as atust as it must have been startling.  I
hear him foretelling a dominion to be exercised in the
fuiture world.  He begins to ahnounce, what entered
largely into his future teaching, that his power was not
bounded to this earth.  These words I better understand, when I hear him  subsequently declaring, that,
after a painful death, he was to rise again and ascend
to heaven, and there, in a state of premninent power and
glory, was to be the advocate and judge of the human
race.
Such are some of the views given by Jesus, of his
character and reign, in the Sermon on the  Tlount.
Immediately afterwlards, I hear another lesson friom him,
bringing;?ut some of these truths still more strongly.
A Roman centurion makes application -to himi for the
cure of a servant, whom he particularly valued; and on
expressing, in a strong manner, his conviction of the
power of Jesus to heal at a distance, Jesus, accordillg




CHARACT'ER OF (:IRIST'.           13
to the historian, "c marvelled, and said to those that followed, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so gleat
faith in Israel; and I say unto you, that many shall come
from the east and west, and shall sit down wvith Abraham,
and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; but the
clhildren of the kingdom " (that is, the Jews) " shall be
cast out." Here all the hopes which the Jews had cherished of an exclusive or peculiar possession of the Messiah's kingdom, were crushed; and the reception of the
despised Gentile world to all his blessings, or, in other
words, the extension of his pure religion to the ends of
the earth, began to be proclaimed.
Here I pause for the present, and I ask you, whether
the character of Jesus be not the most extraordinary in
history, and wholly inexplicable on human principles.
Review the ground over which we have gone. Recollect that he was born and grew up a Jew, in the midst
of Jews, a people burning with one passion, and throwing their whole souls into the expectation of a national
and earthly deliverer.. Ite grew up among them in poverty, seclusicn, and labors fitted to contract his thoughts,
purposes, and hopes; and yet we find him  escaping
every influence of education and society.  We find him
as untouched by the feelings vwhich prevailed universally
around him, which religion and patriotism concurred to
consecrate, which the mother breathed into the ear of the
clhild, and which the teacher of the synagogue strengthened in the adult, as if he had been brought up in aneTher
world. We find him conceiving a sublime purpose, such
as had never dawned on sane or hero, and see him possessed with a consciousness of sustaining a relation to
God and mankind, and of being invested with powers in
this world and the world to come, such as had never enVOLT. I.              2




14              CHARACTER OF CHRIST
tered the human mind.  Whence now, I ask, came tile
conception of this character?
Will any say it had its origin in imposture; that it was
a fabrication of a deceiver?  I answer, the character
claimed by Christ excludes this supposition, by its very
nature.  It was so remote firom all the ideas and anticipations of the times, so unfit to awaken sympathy, so
unattractive to the heathen, so exasperating to the Jew,
that it was the last to enter the mind of an impostor. A
deceiver of the dullest vision must have foreseen, that it
would expose him_ to bitter scorn, abhorrence, and persecution, and that he would be left to carry on his work
alone, just as Jesus always stood alone, and could find
not an individual to enter into his spirit and design.
What allurements an unprincipled, self-seeking man could
find to such an enterprise, no common ingenuity can
discover.
I affirm next, that the sublimity of the character claimed by Christ forbids us to trace it to imposture.  That a
selfish, designing, depraved mind could have formed the
idea and purpose of a work unparalleled in beneficence,
in vastness, and in moral grandeur, would certainly be a
strange departure from  the laws of the human mind.  I
add, that if an impostor could have lighted on the conception of so sublime and wonderful a work as that
claimed by Jesus, he could not, I say, he could not have
thrown into his personation of it the air of truth and reality.  iThle part would have been too high for him.
He would have overacted it or fallen short of it perpetually.  His true character would have rebelled against
his assumed one.  We should have seen something
strained, forced, artificial, awkward, showing that he was
not in his true sphere.  To act up to a character so sin



CHARACTER OF CHRIST.             15
gular and grand, and one for which no precedent could
be found, seems to me utterly impossible for a man who
had not the true spirit of it, or who was only wearing it
as a mask.
Now, how stands the case with Jesus?  Bred a Jewish peasant or carpenter, he issues from  obscurity, and
claims for himself a divine office, a superhuman dignity,
such as had not been imagined; and in no instance does
he fall below the character.  The peasant, and still more
the Jew, wholly disappears.. We feel that a new being,
of a new order of mind, is' taking a part in human affailrs.
There is a native tone of grandeur and authority in his
teaching.  He speaks as a being related to the whole
human race.  Hiis mind never shrinks within the ordinary limits of human agency.  A  narrower sphere than
the world never enters his thoughts.  He speaks in a
natural, spontaneous style, of accomplishing the most arduous and important change in human affairs.  This unlabored manner of expressing great thoughts is particularly worthy of attention.  You never hear from  Jesus
that swelling, pompous, ostentatious language, which almost necessarily springs from an attempt to sustain a character above our powers.  He talks of his glories as one
to whom they were familiar, and of his intimacy and oneness with God, as simply as a child speaks of his connexion with his parents.  He speaks of saving and judging the world, of drawing all men to himself, and of
giving everlasting life, as we speak of the ordinary powers
which we exert.  He makes no set harangues about the
grandeur of his office and character.  His consciousness
of it gives a hue to his whole language, breaks out in indirect, undesigned expressions, showing that it was the
deepest and most familiar of his convictions.  This ar



16              CimARAC'TE'  OF ClRiST.'
gument is only to be understood by reading the Gospels
with a wakeful mind and heart.  It does not lie on their
surface, and it is the stronger for lying beneath it. When
I read these books with care, when I trace the unaffected majesty which runs through the life of Jesus, and see
him never falling below his sublime claims amidst poverty, and scorn, and in his last agony; I have a feeling of
the reality of his character which I cannot express.  I
feel that the Jewish carpenter could no more have conceived and sustained this character under motives of imposture, than an infant's arm could repeat the deeds of
Hercules, or his unawakened intellect comprehend and
rival the matchless works of genius.
Am  I told that the claims of Jesus had their origin,
not in imposture but in enthusiasm; that the imagination,
kindled by strong feeling, overpowered the judgment so
far as to give him the notion of being destined to some
strange and unparalleled work?  I know that enthusiasm,
or a kindled imagination, has great power; and we are
never to lose sight of it, in judging of the claims of religious teachers.  But I say first, that, except in cases
where it amounts to insanity, enthusiasm works, in a
greater or less degree, according to a man's previous
conceptions and modes of thought.  In Judea, where
the minds of men were burning with feverish expectation
of a Messiah, I can easily conceive of a Jew imagining
that in himself this ardent conception, this ideal of glory,
was to be realized.  I can conceive of his seating himself in fancy on the throne of David, and secretly pondering the means of his appointed triumphs.  But that a
Jew should fancy himself the Messiah, and at the same
time should strip that character of all the attributes which
had fired his youthful imagination and heart, — that he




CHARACTER OF CHRIST                 17
should start aside firom all the feelings and hopes of his
age, and should acquire a consciousness of being destin.
ed to a wholly new career, and one as unbounded as it
was new, this is exceedingly improbable; and one thing
is certain, that an imagination so erratic, so ungoverned,
and able to generate the conviction of being destined to
a work so immneasurably disproportioned to the power of
the individual, must have partaken of insanity.  Now, is
it conceivable, that an individual, mastered by so wild
and fervid an inmag;nation, should have sustained the dignity claimed by' Christ, should have acted worthily the
highest part ever assumed on earth?  Would not his enthusiasm t-;ave bro:h1ecl out amnidst the peculiar excitements
of the life of Jesus.,and have left a touch of madness on
his teachina and conduclet?  Is it to such a man that we
should look for the Inculcation of a new and perfect form
of virtue, and for me exepllification of humanity in its
fairest forma?
The charge oif an extravagant, self-deluding enthusiasm
is the lait to be tastened on Jesus.'Where can we find
the traces of it i.X miS Iist.Ul sy?  Do we detect them  in
the calm  aithoriv  fr' his precepts; in the mild, practical, and ben-fiuent -nirit of his religion; in the unlabored
simplicity of tlhe language with which he unfolds his high
powers, and the sublire truths of religion; or in the
good sense, the k-riowledge of human nature, which he
always discovers in his estimate and treatment of the different classes of men witl whom  he acted?  Do we
discover this enthusiasm in the singular fact, that whilst
he claimed power in the future world, and always turned
men's minds to Heaven, he never indulged his own imagination, or stimulated that of his disciples, by giving
vivid pictures, or any minute description, of that unseen
2*




18               CIHARACTER OF CHRIST.
state?  The truth is, that, remarkable as was the character of Jesus, it was distinguished by nothing more than
by calmness and self-possession.  This trait pervades his
other excellences. }How calm was his piety! Point me,
if you can, to one vehement, passionate expression of
his religious feelings.  Does the Lord's Prayer breathe
a feverish enthusiasm?  The habitual style of Jesus on
the subject of religion, if introduced into many churches
of his followers at the present day, would be charged
with coldness.  The calm and the rational character of
his piety is particularly seen in the doctrine which he so
earnestly inculcates, that disinterested love and self-denying service to our fellow-creatures are the most acceptable worship we can offer to our Creator.  His benevolence, too, though singularly earnest and deep, was composed and serene.  He never lost the possession of himself in his sympathy with others; was never hurried into
the impatient and rash enterprises of an enthusiastic philanthropy; but did good with the tranquillity and constancy which mark the providence of God.  The depth of
his calmness may best be understood by considering the
opposition made to his claims.  His labors were everywhere insidiously watched and industriously thwarted by
vindictive foes, who had even conspired to compass,
through his death, the ruin of his cause.  Now, a feverish enthusiasm, which fancies itself to be intrusted with
a great work of God, is singularly liable to impatient indignation under furious and malignant opposition.  Obstacles increase its vehemence; it becomes more eager
and hurried in the accomplishment of its purposes, in
proportion as they are withstood.  Be it therefore remembered, that the malignity of Christ's foes, though
aever surpassed, and for the tlune trirumphant, never




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.             19
robbed him of self-possession, roused no passion, and
threw no vehemence or precipitation into his exertions.
He did not disguise from himself or his followers the
impression made on the multitude by his adversaries.
He distinctly foresaw the violent death towards which
he was fast approaching.  Yet, confiding in God, and
in the silent progress of his truth, he possessed his soul
in peace.  Not only was he calm, but his calmness
rises into sublimity when we consider the storms which
raged around him, and the vastness of the prospects in
which his spirit found repose.  I say, then, that serenity and self-possession were peculiarly the attributes of
Jesus.  I affirm, that the singular and sublime character claimed by Jesus, can be traced neither to imposture, nor to an ungoverned, insane imagination.  It can
only be accounted for by its truth, its reality..I began with observing how our long familiarity with
Jesus blunts our minds to his singular excellence.  We
probably have often read of the character which he
claimed, without a thought of its extraordinary nature.
But I know nothing so sublime.  The plans and labors
of statesmen sink into the sports of children, when
compared with the work which Jesus announced, and
to which he devoted himself in life and death, with
a thorough consciousness of its reality.  The idea of
changing the moral aspect of the whole earth, of recovering all nations to the pure and inward worship of
one God, and to a spirit of divine and fraternal love,
was one of which we meet not a trace in philosopher
or legislator before him. The human mind had given
no promise of this extent of view.  The conception of
this enterprise, and the calm, unshaken expectation of
success, in one who had no station and no wealth, who




20(              CfARAT]c Rg OP C1HR-'ST.'
cast from  him the sword with abhorrence, and Wtho froibade his disciples to use any weapons but those of love,
discover a wonderful trust in the power of God and the
power of love;- and when, to this we add, that Jesus
looked not only to the triumph of his pure faith in the
present world, but to a mighty and beneficent power ill
I-eaven, we witness a vastness of purpose, a grandeul
of thought and feeling, so original, so superior to the
worlings of all other minds, that nothing but our famili-'
arity can prevent our contemplation of it with wonder
and profound awe,.  I confess, whlen I can escape the
deadening power of habit, and can receive the full im
port of such passages as the following, --  Come unto
me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I wil1
give you rest,"- G-  I am corne to seek andt to save that
which was lost," —6 H-oe that confesseth me before
men, hitl will I c'onfess before my Father in Heaven,"
-' Vh.osoever shall:be ashamed of me before men,
of him shiall thte Son of MIan b:e ashamed when he cometh in the* glory of the Father with the holy angels,'7
-'" In my Father's house are many mansions; I go
to prepare a place for you: "-     say, when I can
succeed in realizing the import of such passages, I feel
myself listening to a being, such as never before and
never since spoke in huran  language.  I am  awed by
the conscioussness of greatness which these simple words
express; and when I: connect this greatness with the
proofs of Christ's miracles which I gave you!in:a former discourse I'am  comnpelled to exclaim with the cen-'tirion, " Truly,~ this 1was7 the Son Bf God."
I have thus, my friends, set before you'one view of
Jesus1 Clhrist,'whi-ch ishows'hirn to have been the most




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.            21
extraordinary being who ever lived. I invite your attention to another; and I am not sure, but that it is
still more striking.  You have seen the consciousness
of greatness which Jesus possessed; I now ask you to
consider, how, with this consciousness, he lived among
men.  To convey my meaning more distinctly, let me
avail myself of an imaginary case.  Suppose you had
never heard the particulars of Christ's history, but were
told in general, that, ages ago, an extraordinary man
appeared in the world, whose mind was wholly possessed with the idea of having come from God, who regarded himself as clothed with divine power and charged
with the sublimest work in the universe, who had the
consciousness of sustaining a relation of unexampled
authority and beneficence, not to one nation or age, but
to all nations and all times,- and who anticipated a
spiritual kingdom and everlasting power beyond the
grave.  Suppose you should be told, that, on entering
the world, he found not one mind able to comprehend
his views, and felt himself immeasurably exalted in
thought and purpose above all around him, and suppose
you should then be asked what appearance, what mode
of life, what tone, what air, what deportment, what intercourse with the multitude seemed to you to suit such
a character, and were probably adopted by him; how
would you represent him to your minds?  Would you
not suppose, that, with this peculiar character, he adopted some peculiar mode of life, expressive of his superiority to and separation from all other men? Would
you not expect something distinctive in his appearance?
Would you not expect him to assume some badge, and
to exact some homage?  Would you not expect, that,
with a mind revolving such vast thoughts, and raised




22              CHARACTER OF CIIRIST.T
above the earth, he would look coldly on the ordinary
gratifications of men? that, with a mind spreading itself
over the world, and meditating its subjection to his
truth, he would take little interest in ordinary individuals? and that, possessing, in his own doctrine and
character, a standard of sublime virtue, he would attach
little importance to the low attainments of the ignorant
and superstitious around him? Would you not make
him a public character, and expect to see him laboring
to establish his ascendency among public men?  Would
you not expect to see his natural affections absorbed in
his universal philanthropy; and would not private attachments seem to you quite inconsistent with his vast
superiority, and the immensity of his purposes? Would
you not expect him to avail himself of the best accommodations the world could afford?  Would you not
expect the great Teacher to select the most sacred
spots for his teaching, and the Lord of all to erect some
conspicuous seat, from which should go forth the laws
which were to reach the ends of the earth-? Would you
not, in a word, expect this extraordinary personage to
surround himself with extraordinary circumstances, and
to maintain a separation from  the degraded multitude
around him?
Such, I believe, would be the expectation of us all 
and what was the case with Jesus? Read'his history.
Hie comes with the consciousness of more than human
greatness, to accomplish an infinite work; and where
do you find him?  What is his look? what his manner?
How does he converse, hoxw live with men?  His appearance, mode of life, and intercourse are directly the
reverse of what we should'have supposed.  He comes
in the ordinary dress of the class of society in which he




CHARACTER OF C1t1I1ST.           23
Dad grown up.  He retreats to no solitude, like.John,
to strike awe, nor seekslany spot which had been consecrated in Jewish history.  Would you find him?  Go
to the house of Peter, the fisherman.  Go to the well
of Samaria, where he rests after the fatigues of his
journey.  Would you hear him teach?  You may find
him, indeed, sometimes in the temple, for that was a
place of general resort; but commonly you may find
him instructing in the open air, now fiom a boat on the
Galilean lake, now on a mount, and now in the streets
of the crowded city.  He.has no place wherein to lay
his head, nor will he have one.  A  rich ruler comes
and falls at his feet.  He says, "Go, sell what thou
hast, and give to the poor, and then come and follow
me."  Nor was this all.  Something more striking remains to be told. He did not merely live in the streets,
and in the houses of fishermen.  In these places, had
he pleased, he might have cleared a space around him,
and raised a barrier between himself and others.  But
in these places, and everywhere, he lived with men as
a man, a brother, a friend, sometimes a servant; and
entered, with a deep, unexampled sympathy, into the
feelings, interests,'wants, sorrows of individuals, of ordinary men, and even of the most depressed, despised,
and forsaken of the race.  Here is the most striking
view of Jesus.  This combination of the spirit of humanity, in its lowliest, tenderest form, with the consciousness of unrivalled and divine glories, is the most
wonderful distinction of this wonderful character.  Here
we learn the chief reason, why he chose poverty, and
refused every peculiarity of manner and appearance.
lHe did this because he desired to come near to the
multitude of men, to make himself accessible to all, to




24               CHIARACTER OF CHRIST.
pour out the fuillness of his sympathy upon all, to know
and weep over their sorrows and sins, and to manifest
his interest in their affections and joys.
I can offer but a few instances of this sympathy of
Christ with human nature in all its varieties of character and condition.  But how beautiful are they!  At
the very opening of his iministry, we find him  present
at a marriage, to which he and his edisciples had been
called.  Among the Jews this was an occasion of pe.culiar exhilaration and festivity; but Jesus did not therefore decline it. He knew what aibections, joys, sorrows,
and moral influences are bound up in this institution, and
he went to the celebration, not as an ascetic, to frown
on its bright hopes and warm  congrattulations, but to
sanction it by his presence, and to heighten its enjoyments.  How little does this comport with the solitary
dignity which we should have pronounced most accordant with his character, and what a spirit of humanity
does it breathe  But this event stands almost alone
in his history.  His chief sympathy was not with them
that rejoice, but with the ignorant, sinful, sorrowful;
and with these we find him cultivating an habitual intimacy.  Though so exalted in thought and purpose,
he chose uneducated men to be his chief disciples;
and he lived with themn, not as a superior, giving occasional and formal instruction, but became their companion, travelled with them on foot, slept in their dwellings,
sat at their tables, partook their plain fare, communicated to them his truth in the simplest form; and though
they constantly misunderstood him, and never received
his full meaning, he was never wearied with tealchingthem.   So familiar was his intercourse, that we find
Peter reproving him  with an affectionate zeal, for an



CHARACTER OF CHRItS.             25
nouncing his approaching death, and we find John leaning on his bosom.  Of his last discourse to these disciples I need not speak.  It stands alone among all writritgs for the union of tenderness and majeoty.  His own
sorrows are forgotten in his solicitude to speak peace
and comfort to his humble followers~
The depth of his human sympathies was beautifully
manifested when children were brought to him.  His
disciples, judging as all men would judge, thought that
he who was sent to wear the crown of universal empire,
had too great a work before him to give his time and attention to children, and reproved the parents who brought
them; but Jesus, rebuking his disciples, called to him
the children.  Never, I believe, did childhood awaken
such deep love as at that moment.  He took them in
his arms and blessed them, and not only said that " of
such was the kingdom  of heaven," but added, " He
that receiveth a little child in my name, receiveth me; 
so entirely did he identify himself with this primitive,
innocent, beautifil form of human nature.
There was no class of human beings so low as to be
beneath his sympathy.  He not merely taught the publican and sinner, but, with all his consciousness of purity,
sat down and dined with them, and, when reproved by
the malignant Pharisee for such companionship, answered
by the touching parables of the Lost Sheep and the
Prodigal Son, and said, 1" I am come to seek and to
save that which was lost."
No personal suffering dried up this fountain of love
in his breast. On his way to the cross, he heard some
women of Jerusalem  bewailing him, and at the sound,
forgetting his own grief, he turned to them  and said,
rol. TrV.         3




26            ~ CHARACTER OF CHRIST.
" Women of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep foM
yourselves and your_ children."  On the cross, whilst
his mind was divided between intense suffering, and the
contemplation of the infinite blessings in which his sufferings were to issue, his eye lighted on his mother and
John, and the sensibilities of a son and a friend mingled
with the sublime consciousness of the universal Lord
and Saviour.  Never before did natural affection find so
tender and beautiful an utterance.  To his mother he
said, directing her to John,' Behold thy son; I leave
my beloved disciple to take my place, to perform  my
filial offices, and to enjoy a share of that affection with
which you have followed me through life;" and to John
he said, G" Behold thy mother; I bequeath to you the
happiness of ministering to my dearest earthly friend."
Nor is this all.  The spirit of humanity had one higher
triumph. Whilst his enemies surrounded him with a
malignity unsoftened by his last agonies, and, to give the
keenest edge to insult, reminded him scoffingly of the
high character and office which he had claimed, his only
notice of them was the prayer,' Father, forgive them,
they know not what they do."
Thus Jesus lived with men; with the consciousness
of unutterable majesty, he joined a lowliness, gentleness, humanity, and sympathy, which'have no example
in human history. I ask you to contemplate this wonderful union.  In proportion to the superiority of Jesus
to all around him, was the intimacy, the brotherly love,
with which he bound himself to them.  I maintain.
that this is a character wholly remote from  human
conception.  To imagine it to be the production of
imposture or enthusiasm, shows a strange unsoundness




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.            27
of mind. I contemplate it with a veneration second
only to the profound awe with which I look up to
God. It bears no mark of human invention. It was
real.  It belonged to and it manifested the beloved Son
of God.
But I have not done.  May I ask your attention a
few moments more? We have not yet reached the
depth of Christ's character. We have not touched the
great principle, on which his wonderful sympathy was
founded, and which endeared to him his office of universal Saviour.  Do you ask what this deep principle was?
I answer, it was his conviction of the greatness of the
human soul. He saw in man the impress and image of
the divinity, and therefore thirsted for his redemption,
and took the tenderest interest in him, whatever might
be the rank, character, or condition in which he was
found.  This spiritual view of man pervades and distinguishes the teaching of Christ.  Jesus looked on men
with an eye which pierced beneath the material frame.
The body vanished before him. The trappings of the
rich, the rags of the poor, were nothing to him. He
looked through them, as though they did not exist, to the
soul; and there, amidst clouds of ignorance and plaguespots of sin, he recognised a spiritual and immortal
nature, and the germs of power and perfection which
might be unfolded for ever. In tile most fallen and depraved man, he saw a being who might become an angel
of light. Still more, he felt that there was nothing in
himself to which men might not ascend. His own lofty
consciousness did not sever him from the multitude; for
he saw in his own greatness the model of what men might




28              CHARACTER OF'CHRIST
become.  So deeply was he thus impressed, that again
and again, in speaking of his future glories, he announced,
that in these his true followers were to share.  They
were to sit on his throne, and partake of his beneficent
power.
Here I pause, and indeed I know not what can be
added to heighten the wonder, reverence, and love,
which are due to Jesus.  When I consider him, not
only as possessed with the consciousness of an unexampled and unbounded majesty, but as recognising a kindred nature in human beings, and living and dying to
raise them to a participation of his divine glories; and
when I see him under these views allying himself to
men by the tenderest ties, embracing thenm with a spirit
of humanity, which no insult, injury, or pain could for a
moment repel or overpower, I am filled with wonder as
well as reverence and love.  I feel that this character is
not of human invention, that it was not assumed through
fraud, or struck out by enthusiasm; for it is infinitely
above their reach.  When I add this character of Jestus
to the other evidences of his religion, it gives to what
before seemed so strong, a new and a vast accession of
strength; I feel as if I could not be deceived.  The
Gospels must be true; they were drawn from a living
original; they were founded on reality.  The character
of Jesus is not a fiction; he was what he claimed to be,
and what his followers attested.  Nor is this all.  Jesus
not only was, he is still, the Son of God, the Saviour
of the world.  lIe exists nowv; he has entered that
Heaven, to which he always looked forward on earth.
There he lives and reigns.  With a clear, calm faith, I
see him in that state of glory; and I confidently expect,




CHARACTER OF CHRIST.            29
at no distant period, to see him face to face.  We have
indeed no absent friend whom we shall so surely meet.
Let us then, my hearers, by imitation of his virtues
and obedience to his word, prepare ourselves to join
him in those pure mansions, where he is surrounding
himself with the good and pure of our race, and will
communicate to them for ever his own spirit, power,
and joy.
8'~B








CHRISTIANITY  A  RATIONAL  RELIGION.
ROMANS i. 16: " I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ."
SUCH was the language of Paul; and every man will
respond to it, who comprehends the character and has
felt the influence of Christianity.  In a former discourse, I proposed to state to you some reasons for
adopting as our own the words of the Apostle, for joining in this open and resolute testimony to the gospel
of Christ.  I observed, that I was not ashamed of the
gospel, first because it is True, and to this topic the
discourse was devoted.  I wish now to continue the
subject, and to state another ground of undisguised
and unshaken adherence to Christianity.  I say, then,
I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because it is
a rational religion.  It agrees with reason; therefore I
count it worthy of acceptation, therefore I do not blush
to enrol myself among its friends and advocates.  The
object of the present discourse will be the illustration
of this claim of Christianity. I wish to show you the
harmony which subsists between the light of God's
word, and that primitive light of reason, which he has
kindled within us to be our perpetual guide.  If, in
treating this subject, I shall come into conflict with any




32         CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
class of Christians, I trust I shall not be considered
as imputing to them any moral or intellectual defect.
I judge men by their motives, dispositions, and lives,
and not by their speculations or peculiar opinions; and
I esteem piety and virtue equally venerable, whether
found in friend or foe.
Christianity is a Rational religion.  Were it not so,
I should be ashamed to profess it.  I am aware that it
is the fashion with some to decry reason, and to set up
revelation as an opposite authority.  This error though
countenanced by good men, and honestly maintained
for the defence of the Christian cause, ought to be
earnestly withstood; for it virtually surrenders our religion into the hands of the unbeliever.  It saps the
foundation to strengthen the: building.  It places our
religion in hostility to human nature, and gives to its
adversaries the credit of vindicating the rights and noblest powers of the mind.
We must never forget that our rational nature is the
greatest gift of God. For this we owe him our chief
gratitude.  It is a greater gift than any outward aid
or: benefaction, and no doctrine which degrades it can
come from its Author.  The developement of it is the
end of our being.  Revelation is: but a means, and is
designed to concur with nature, providence, and God's
spirit, in carrying forward reason to its perfection.  I
glory in Christianity because it enlarges, invigorates,
exalts, my rational nature,  If* I: could not be a Christian without ceasing to? be rational, I should not hesitate
as to my choice.  I feel; myself bound to sacrifice to
Christianity property, reputation,: life; but I ought not
to sacrifice to any religion, that reason which lifts me
above! the brute and constitutes me a man.  I can con



CHRISTIANITY A RATINAL RELIGION.        33
ceive no sacrilege greater than to prostrate or renounce
the highest faculty which we have derived from  God.
In so doing we should ofier violence to the divinity
within us.  Christianity wages no war with, reason, but
is one with it, and is given to be its helper and friend.
I wish, in the present discourse, to illustrate and
confirm  the views now  given.  My remarks will be
arranged under two heads.  I propose, first, to show
that Christianity is founded on, arid'supposes, the authority of reason, and cannot therefore oppose it without
subverting itself.  lIy object in this part of the discourse will be to expose the error of those who hope
to serve revelation by disparaging reason.  I shall theti,
in the second place, compare Christianity and the light
of reason, to show their accordance; and shall prove,
by descending to particulars, that Christianity is erninently a rational religion.  iMy aim, under this head,
will be to vindicate the Gospel from the reproaches of
the unbeliever, and to strengthen the faith and attachment of its friends. -  Before I begin, let me observe
that this discussion, from the nature of the subject,
must assume occasionally an abstract form, and will demand serious attention.  I am to speak of Reason, the
chief faculty of the mind; and no simplicity of language
in treating such a topic can exempt the hearer from  the
necessity of patient effort of thought.
I am to begin with showing that the Christian reve
lation is founded on the authority of reason, and consequently cannot oppose it; and here it may be proper
to settle the meaning of the word Reason.  One of the
most important steps towards the truth is to determine
the import of terms.  Very often fierce controversies
have sprung from obscurity of language, and the parties,




34        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
on explaining themselves, have discovered that they
have been spending their strength in a war of words.
What, then, is reason?
The term  Reason is used with so much latitude,
that to fix its precise limits is not an easy task. In this
respect it agrees with the other words which express
the intellectual faculties. One idea, however, is always
attached to it.  All men understand by reason the highest faculty or energy- of the mind.  Without laboring
for a philosophical definition that will comprehend all
its exercises, I shall satisfy myself with pointing out
two of its principal characteristics or functions.
First, it belongs to reason to comprehend Universal truths.  This is among its most important offices.
There are particular and there are universal truths.
The last are the noblest, and the capacity of perceiving
them is the distinction of intelligent beings; and these
belong to reason. Let me give my meaning by some
illustrations.  I see a stone falling to the ground.  This
is a particular truth; but I do not stop here.  I believe
that not only this particular stone falls towards the
earth, but that every particle of matter, in whatever
world, tends, or, as is sometimes said, is attracted
towards all other matter.  Here is a universal truth,
a principle extending to the whole material creation,
and essential to its existence.  This truth belongs to
reason. —Again, I see a man producing some effect, a
manufacture, a house.  Here is a particular truth.  But
I am not only capable of seeing particular causes and
effects; I am  sure that every thing which begins to exist, no matter when or where, must have a cause, that
no change ever has taken place or ever will take place
withotlt a cause.  Here is a universal truth, something




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.        35
true here and everywhere, true now and through eternity; and this truth belongs to reason. -Again, I see with
my eyes, I traverse with my hands, a limited space; but
this is not all. I am sure, that, beyond the limits which
my limbs or senses reach, there is an unbounded space;
that, go where I will, an infinity will spread around me.
HIere is another universal truth, and this belongs to reason. The idea of Infinity is indeed one of the noblest
conceptions of this faculty. - Again, I see a man conferring a good on another.  Here is a particular truth or
perception. But my mind is not confined to this. I
see and feel that it is right for all intelligent beings, exist
when or where they may, to do good, and wrong for them
to seek the misery of others.  Here is a universal truth,
a law extending from God to the lowest human being;
and this belongs to reason.  I trust I have conveyed to
you my views in regard to the first characteristic of this
highest power of the soul.  Its office is to discern universal truths, great and eternal principles.  But it does
not stop here.  Reason is also exercised in applying
these universal truths to particular cases, beings, events.
For example, reason teaches me, as we have seen, that
1ll changes without exception require a cause; and in
conformity to this principle, it prompts me to seek the
particular causes of the endless changes and appearances
which fall under my observation.  Thus reason is perpetually at work on the ideas furnished us by the senses.
by consciousness, by memory, associating them with its
own great truths, or investing them with its own universality.
I now proceed to the second function of reason, which
is indeed akin to the first. — Reason is the power which
tends, and is perpetually striving, to reduce our various




36         CIIRISTIANITY A RATIONAi  RELIGION.
thoughts to Unity or Consistency. Perhaps the most
iundamental conviction of reason is, that all truths agree
together; that inconsistency is the mark of error.  Its
intensest, most earnest effort is to bring concord into the
intellect, to reconcile what seem to be clashing views.
On the observation of a new fact, reason strives to incorporate it with former knowledge.  It can allow nothing
to stand separate in the mind.  It labors to bring together scattered truths, and to give them the strength and
beauty of a vital order.  Its end and delight is harmony.
It is shocked by an inconsistency in belief, just as a fine
ear is wounded by a discord.  It carries within itself an
Instinctive consciousness, that all things which exist are
intimately bound together; and it cannot rest until it has
connected whatever we witness with the infinite whole.
Reason, according to this view, is the most glorious form
or exercise of the intellectual nature.  It corresponds to
the unity of God and the universe, and seeks to make
the soul the image and mirror of this sublime unity.
I have thus given my views of reason; but, to prevent
a.1 perversion, before I proceed to the main discussion,
let me offer a word or two more of explanation.  In this
discourse, when I speak of the accordance of revelation
with reason, I suppose this faculty to be used deliberateiy, conscientiously, and with the love of truth. 3Mien often baptize with the name of reason their prejudices, unexamined notions, or opinions adopted through interest,
pride, or other unworthy biasses.  It is note uncommon
to hear those who sacrifice the plainest dictates of the
rational nature to impulse and passion, setting themselves
up as oracles of reason.  Now  when I say revelation
must accord with reason, 1T do not mean by the term the




~CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL -RELIGION.     37
t-orrupt and superficial opinions of men who have betrayed and debased their rational powers.  I mean reason,
calmly, honestly exercised for the acquisition of truth and
Sthe invigoration of virtue.
After these explanations, I proceed to the discussion
of the two leading principles to which this Discourse is
devoted.
First, I am to show that revelation is founded on the
authority of reason, and cannot therefore oppose or disparage it without subverting itself.  Let me state a few
of the considerations which convince me of the truth of
this position.  The first is, that reason alone makes us
capable of receiving a revelation.  It must previously
exist and operate, or we should be wholly unprepared for
the communications of Christ.  Revelation, then, is built
on reason.  You will see the truth of these remarks if
you will consider to whom revelation is sent.  Why is it
given to men rather than to brutes?  Why have not
God's messengers gone to the fields to proclaim his glad
tidings to bird and beast?  The answer is obvious.
These want reason; and, wanting this, they have no capacity or preparation for revealed truth.  And not only'would revelation be lost on the brute; let it speak to the
child, before his rational faculties have been awakened,
and before some ideas of duty and his own nature have
been developed, and it might as well speak to a stone.
Reason is the preparation and ground of revelation.
This truth will be still more obvious, if we consider,
not only to whom, but in what way, the Christian revelation is communicated. How is it conveyed? In words.
Did it make these words? No. They were in use ages
before its birth. Again I ask, Did it make the ideas or
vo1r. TV.             4




:38       CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
thoughts which these words express? No. If the hear —
ers of Jesus had not previously attached ideas to the
terms which he employed, they could not have received
his meaning.  He might as well have spoken to them in
a foreign. tongue.  Thus the ideas which enter into
Christianity subsisted before.  They were ideas of reason; so that to this faculty revelation owes the materials
of which it is composed.
Revelation, we mIust remenmber, is not our earliest
teacher.  Man is not born with the single power of
reading God's word, and sent immediately to that guide.
His eyes open first on another volume, that of the creation.  Long before he can read the Bible, he looks
round on the earth and sky.  He reads the countenances
of his friends, and hears and understands their voices.
He looks, too, by degrees within himself, and acquires
some ideas of'his own soul.  Thus his first school is
that of nature and reason, and this is necessary to prepare him for a communication from Heaven. Revelation
does not find the mind a blank, a void, prepared to receive unresistingly whatever may be offered; but finds it
in possession of various knowledge from nature and experience, and, still more, in possession of great principles, fundamental truths, moral ideas, which are derived
from itself, and which are the germs of all its future inmprovement. This last view is peculiarly important.  The
mind does not receive every thing from  abroad.  Its
great ideas arise from itself, and by those native lights it
reads and comprehends the volumes of nature and revelation.  We speak, indeed, of nature and revelation as
making known to us an intelligent First Cause; but the
ideas of intelligence and causation we derive originally
friom our own nature''he elements of the idea of God




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.       39
we gather from ourselves.  Power, wisdom, love, virtue,
beauty, and happiness, words which contain all that is
glorious in the universe and interesting in our existence,
express attributes of the mind, and are understood by us
only through consciousness.  It is true, these ideas or
principles of reason are often obscured by thick cloutds,
and mingled with many and deplorable errors.   Still
they are never lost.  Christianity recognises them, is
built on them, and needs therm as its interpreters.  If
an illustration of these views be required, I would point
you to what may be called the most fundamental idea of
religion.  I mean the idea of right, of duty.  Do we
derive this originally and wholly from  sacred books?
HEas not every human being, whether born within or beyond the bounds of revelation, a sense of the distinction
between right and wrong?  Is there not an earlier voice
than revelation, approving or rebuking men according to
their deeds? In barbarous ages is not conscience heard?
And does it not grow more articulate with the progress
of society?  Christianity does not create, but presupposes the idea of duty; and the same may be said of
other great convictions. Revelation, then, does not stand
alone, nor is it addressed to a blank and passive mind.
ITt was meant to be a joint worker with other teachers,
with nature, with Providence, with conscience, with our
rational powers; and as these all are given us by God,
they cannot differ from  each other.  God must agree
with himself.  He has but one voice.  It is man who
speaks with jarring tongues.  Nothing but harnlony can
come from  the Creator; and, accordingly, a religion
claiming to be firom  God, can give no surer prpof of
falsehood than by contradicting those previous truths
which God is teaching by our very nature.  We have




40G        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
thus seen that reason prepares us for a divine communncation, and that it furnishes the ideas or materials of
which revelation consists.  This is my first considerati.on.
I, proceed to a second.  I affirmn, then, that revelatioin
rests on the authority of reason, because to this faculty
it submits the evidences of its truth, and nothing but the
approving sentence of reason binds us to receive and
obey it.  This is a very weighty consideration.  Christianity, in placing itself before the tribunal of reason and
in resting its claims on the sanction of this faculty, is one
of the chief witnesses to the authority and dignity of our
rational nature.  That I have ascribed to this faculty its
true and proper office, may be easily made to appear. I
take the New Testament in hand, and on what ground do
I receive its truths as divine? I see nothing on its pages
but the same letters in which other books are written.
No miraculous voice from  Heaven assures me that it is
God's word, nor does any mysterious voice within my
soul command me to believe the supernatural works of
Christ.  How, then, shall I settle the question of the
origin of this religion? I must examine it by the same
rational faculties by which other subjects are tried.  I
must ask what are its evidences, and I must lay them'
before reason, the only power by which evidence can be
weighed. I have not a distinct faculty given me for
judging a revelation.  I have not two understandings,
one for inquiring into God's word and another into his
works.  As with the same bodily eye I now look on the
earth, now on the heavens, so with the same power of
reason I examine now nature, now revelation.  Reason;
must collect and weigh the various proofs of Christianity.
It must especially compare this system with. those great




t'URISTANITV A }RATIONAL RtELIGION.      4 i
nmoral convictions, which are written by the finger of
God on the heart, and which make man a law to himself.  A religion subverting these, it must not hesitate
to reject, be its evidences what they may.  A. religion:
for example, commanding us to hate and injure society,
reason must instantly discard, without even waiting to
examine its proofs.  From  these views we learn, not
only that it is the prov ince of reason to judge of the truth
of Christianity, but, what is still more important, that
the rules or tests by which it judges are of its own dictation.  The laws which it applies in this case have
their origin in itself.  No one will pretend, that revelatioIn can prescribe the principles by which the question
of its own truth should be settled; for, until proved to
be true, it has no authority.  Reason must prescribe
the tests or standards, to which a professed communication from God should be referred; and among these
none are more important than that moral law, which
belongs to the very essence, and is the deepest conviction, of the rational nature.  Revelation, then, rests
on reason, and, in opposing it, would act for its own
destructi ona
I have given two views.  I have shown that revelation draws its ideas or materials from reason, and that it
appeals to this power as the judge of its truth.  I now
-assert, thirdly, that it rests on the authority of reason,
because it needs and expects this faculty to be its interpreter, and without this aid would be worse than useless.
How is the right of interpretation, the real meaning, of
Scriptures to be ascertained? I answer, By reason.  I
know of no process by which the true sense of the New
Testament is to pass from  the page into my mind without the use of my rational faculties.  It will not be pre4{ #




42'       CHRISTIAN'lTY A RATIONAL RELGION.
tended that this book is so exceedingly plain, its words
so easy, its. sentences so short, its meaning so e-xposed
on the surface, that the whole truth may be received in a
nmioment and without any intellectual effort.  There is
no such miraculous simplicity in, the Scriptuires.  I1ni
truch, no book can be written so simply as to need no'
exercise of reason.  Almost every word has more thain
one' meaning, and judgment is required to select the'
particular sense intended by the writer.  Of all books,
perhaps the Scriptures need most the -use' of reason for'
their just interpretation; and this, not from any imperfection, but from  the' strength, boldness, and figurative
character of their style, and from  the distance of the'
time when they were written.  I open the New Testament and' my eye lights on this passage; "- If thy hand
offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee.'"  Is this
language to be interpreted in its plainest and most obvious sense?. Then I must mutilate- my body, and become
a suicide.  I look again, and I find Jesus using these
words to the Jews;' Fill ye up the measure of your
iniquities."  Am  I to, interpret this according to the
letter, or the first ideas which it suggests?  Then Jesus
commanded his hearers to steep themselves in crime,
and was himself a minister of sin.  It is only by a deliberate use of reason, that we can penetrate beneath the:
figurative, hyperbolical, and often obscure style of the
New Testament, to the real meaning. Let me go to
the Bible, dismissing my reason and taking the first impression which the words convey, and there is no absurdity, however gross, into which I shall not fall.  I
shall ascribe a limited body to God, and unbounded
knowledge to man, for I read of God having limbs, and
af man knowing all things.  Nothing is plainer, than




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.      43
that I must compare passage with passage, and limit one
by another, and especially limit all by those plain and
universal principles of reason, which are called common
sense, or I shall make revelation the patron of every
folly and vice.  So essential is reason to the interpretation of the Christian records.  Revelation rests upon
its authority.  Can it then oppose it, or teach us to hold
it in light esteem?
I have now furnished the proofs of my first position,
that revelation is founded on reason; and in discussing
this, I have wished not only to support the main doce
trine, but to teach you to reverence, more perhaps than
you have done, your rational nature.  This has been
-decried by theologians, until men have ceased to feel its
sacredness and dignity.  It ought to be regarded as
God's greatest gift.  It is his image within us.  To red
nounce it would be to offer a cruel violence to ourselves,
to take our place among the brutes.  Better pluck out
the eye, better quench the light of the body, than the
light within us.  We all feel, that the loss of reason,
when produced by disease, is the most terrible calamity
of life, and we look on an hospital for the insane as the
receptacle for the most pitiable of our race.  But, in
one view, insanity is not so great an evil as the prostra.
tion of reason to a religious sect or a religious chief; for
the first is a visitation of Providence, the last is a voluntary act, the work of our own hands.
I am aware, that those who have spoken most contemptuously of human reason, have acted from a good
motive; their aim has been to exalt revelation.'T'hey
have thought that by magnifying this as the only means
of divine teaching, they were adding to its dignity.  But
truth gains nothing by exaggeration; and Christianity,




44        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGtON.
as we have seen, is undermined by nothing more effecttually, than by the sophistry which would bring discredit
on our rational powers.  Revelation needs no such support.  For myself I do not find, that, to esteem Christianity, I must think it the only source of instruction tc
which I must repair.  I need not make nature dumb, to
give power or attraction to the teaching of Christ. The
last derives new interest and confirmation from its harmony with the first.  Christianity would furnish a weapon against itself, not easily repelled, should it claim  the
distinction of being the only light vouchsafed by God to
men; for, in that case, it would represent a vast majority of the human race as left by their Creator without
guidance or hope.  I believe, and rejoice to believe,
that a ray from  Heaven descends on the path of every
fellow-creature.  The heathen, though in darkness when
compared with the Christian, has still his light; and it
comes from the same source as our own, just as the
same sun dispenses1 now the faint dawn, and now the
perfect day.  Let not nature's teaching be disparaged.
It is from God as truly as his word.  it is sacred, as
truly as revelation.  Both are manifestations of one infinite mind, and harmonious manifestations; and without
this agreement the claims of Christianity could not be
sustained.
In offering these remarks, I have not forgotten that
they will expose me to the reproach of ministering to
"' the pride of reason"; and I may be told, that there
is no worse form of pride than this.  The charge is so
common, as to deserve a moment's attention.  It will
appear at once to be groundless, if you consider, that
pride finds its chief nourishment and delight in the idea
of our own superiority.  It is built on something pecu



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.      45
liar and distinctive, on something which separates us
from others and raises us above them, and not on powers which we share with all around us.  Now, in speaking, as I have done, of the worth and dignity of reason,
I have constantly regarded and represented this faculty
as the common property of all human beings.  I have
spoken of its most important truths as universal and unconfined, such as no individual can monopolize or make
the grounds of personal distinction or elevation.  I have
given, then, no occasion and furnished no nutriment to
pride.  I know, indeed, that the pride of reason or of
intellect exists; but how does it chiefly manifest itself?
Not in revering that rational nature, which all men have
derived fromn God; but in exaggerating our particular
acquisitions or powers, in magnifying our distinctive
views, in looking contemptuously on other minds, in
making ourselves standards for our brethren, in refusing
new lights, and in attempting to establish dominion over
the understandings of those who are placed within our
influence. Such is the most common form of the pride
ofintellect.  It is a vice confined to no sect, and perhaps will be found to prevail most where it is most disclaimed.
I doubt not that they who insist so continually on the
duty of exalting Scripture above reason, consider themselves as particularly secured against the pride of reason.  Yet none, I apprehend, are more open to the
charge.  Such persons are singularly prone to enforce
their own interpretations of Scripture on others, and to
see peril and crime in the adoption of different views
from their own.  Now, let me ask, by what power do
these men interpret revelation?  Is it not by their reason? Have they any faculties but the rational ones, by




46         CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
which to compare Scripture with Scripture, to explain
figurative language, to form conclusions as to the will of
God? Do they not employ on God's word the same
intellect as on his works?  And are not their interpretations of both equally results of reason?  It follows,
that in imposing on others their explications of the
Scriptures, they as truly arrogate to themselves a superiority of reason, as if they should require conformity to
their explanations of nature.  Nature and  Scripture
agree in this, that they cannot be understood at a glance.
Both volumes demand patient investigation, and task all
our powers of thought.  Accordingly it is well known,
that as much intellectual toil has been spent on theological systems as on the natural sciences; and unhappily
it is not less known, that as much intellectual pride has
been manifested in framing and defending the first as the
last. I fear, indeed, that this vice has clung with peculiar obstinacy to the students of revelation.  Nowhere, 1
fear, have men manifested such infatuated trust in their
own infallibility, such overweening fondness for their own
conclusions, such positiveness, such impatience of contradiction, such arrogance towards the advocates of different opinions, as in the interpretation of the Scriptures;
and yet these very men, who so idolize their own intellectual powers, profess to humble reason, and consider a
criminal reliance on it as almost exclusively chargeable
on others.  1'he true defence against the pride of reason, is, not to speak of it contemptuously, but to reverence it as God's inestimable gift to every human being,
and as given to all for never-ceasing improvements of
which we see but the dawn in the present acquisitions
Dof the noblest mind.




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.       47
I have now completed my views of the first principle,
which I laid down in this discourse; namely, that the
Christian revelation rests on the authority of reason.
Of course, it cannot oppose reason without undermining and'destroying itself.  I maintain, however, that it
does not oppose, that it perfectly accords with reason.
it is a rational religion.  This is my second great position, and to this I ask your continued attention.  This
topic might easily be extended to a great length.  1
might state, in succession, all the principles of' Christianity, and show their accordance with reason.  But
I believe that more general views will be more useful,
and such only can be given within the compass of a
discourse.
In the account which I gave you of reason, in the
beginning of this discourse, I confined myself to two
of its functions, namely, its comprehension of universal
truths, and the effort it constantly makes to reduce the
thoughts to harmony or consistency.  Universality and
Consistency are among the chief attributes of reason.
Do we find these in Christianity? If so, its claim to
the character of a rational religion will be established.
These tests I will therefore apply to it, and I will begin
with Consistency.
That a religion be rational, nothing more is necessary than that its truths should consist or agree with
one another, and with all other truths, whether derived
fiorn outward nature or our own souls.  Now I affirm,
that the Christian doctrines have this agreement; and
the more we examine, the more brightly this mark of
truth will appear.  I go to the Gospel, and I first compare its various parts with one another.  Among these
I find perfect harmony; and what makes this more re.




48         CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
markable is, that Christianity is not taught systematically, or like a science.  Jesus threw out, if I may so
speak, his precepts and doctrines incidentally, or as
they- were required by the occasion, and yet, when they
are brought together, they form a harmonious whole.
I do not think it necessary to enlarge on this topic, because I believe it is not questioned by infidelity.  I will
name but one example of this harmony in Christianity.
All its doctrines and all its precepts have that species
of unity, which is most essential in a religion, that is,
they all tend to one object.  They all agree in a single
aim or purpose, and that is to exalt the human character to a height of virtue never known before.  Let the
skeptic name, if he can, one Christian principle which
has not a bearing on this end.  A  consistency of this
kind is the strongest mark of a rational religion which
can be conceived.  Let me observe, in passing, that,
besides this harmony of the Christian doctrines with one
another, there is a striking and beautiful agreement between the teachings of Jesus and his character, which
gives confirmation  to both.   Whatever Jesus taught,
you may see embodied -in himself.  There is perfect
unity between the system and its Founder.  His life republished what fell from his lips.  With his lips he enjoined earnestly, constantly a strong and disinterested
philanthropy; and how harmoniously and sublimely did
his cross join with his word in enforcing this exalted
virtue    With his lips he taught the mercy of God to
sinners; and of this attribute he gave a beautiful illustration in his own deep interest in the sinful, in his free
intercourse with the most fallen, and in his patient efforts
to recover them to virtue and to filial reliance on their
Father in Heaven.   So, his preaching turned much




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.      49
on the importance of raising the mind above the world;
and his own life was a constant renunciation of worldly
interests, a cheerful endurance of poverty that be might
make many truly rich.  So, his discourses continually
revealed to man the doctrine of immortality; and in his
own person he brought down this truth to men's senses,
by rising from the dead and ascending to another state
of being.- I have only glanced at the unity which subsists between Jesus and his religion.  Christianity, from
every point of view, will be found a harmonious system.  It breathes throughout one spirit and one purpose.  Its doctrines, precepts, and examples have the
consistency of reason.
But this is not enough.  A  rational religion must
agree not only with itself, but with all other truths,
whether revealed by the outward creation or our own
souls.  I take, then, Christianity into the creation, I
place it by the side of nature.  Do they agree?  I say,
Perfectly.  I can discover nothing, in what claims to
be God's word, at variance with his works.  This is
a bright proof of the reasonableness of Christianity.
When I consult nature with the lights modern science
affords, I see continually multiplying traces of the doctrine of One God.  The more I extend my researches
into nature, the more I see that it is a whole, the product of one wisdom, power, and goodness.  It bears
witness to one Author, nor has its testimony been
without effect; for although the human mind has often
multiplied its objects of worship, still it has always
tended towards the doctrine of the divine unity, and
nas embraced it more and more firmly in the course of
human improvement.  The Heathen, while he erected.nany altars, generally believed in one Supreme DiVOL. IV.              5




50        CHIRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
vinity, to whom the inferior deities were subjected and
from  whom they sprung.  Need I tell you of the harmony which subsists between nature and revelation in
this particular?  To Christianity belongs the glory of
hlaving proclaimed this primitive truth with new power,
and of having spread it over the whole civilized world.
-  Again.  Nature gives intimation of another truth,
I mean of the universal, impartial goodness of God.
When I look round on the creation, I see nothing to
lead me to suspect that its Author confines his love to
a few.  The sun sends no brighter beam into the palace
of the proudest king, than into the hut of the meanest
peasant.  The clouds select not one man's fields rather
than his neighbour's, but shed down their blessings on
rich and poor, and, still more, on the just and the unjust.
True, there is a variety of conditions among men; but
this takes place, not by any interposition of God, but by
fixed and general laws of nature.  Impartial, universal
goodness is the character in which God is revealed by
his works, when they are properly understood; and
need I tell you how brightly this truth shines in the
pages of Christianity, and how this religion has been
the great means of establishing it among men?- Again.
When I look through nature, nothing strikes me more
than the union which subsists among all its works.
Nothing stands alone in the creation.  The humblest
plant has intimate connexions with the air, the clouds,
the sun.  Harmony is the great law of nature, and how
strikingly does Christianity coincide here with God's
works; for what is the design of this religion, but to
bring the human race, the intelligent creation of God,
into a harmony, union, peace, like that which knits
together the outward universe?  I will give another




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.         51
illustration.  It is one of the great laws of nature, that
good shall come to us through agents of God's appointment; that beings shall receive life, support, knowledge,
and safety through the interposition and labors and sufferings of others.  Sometimes whole communities are
rescued from  oppression and ruin chiefly by the efforts
and sacrifices of a wise, disinterested, and resolute individual.  How accordant with this ordination of nature
is the doctrine of Christianity, that our Heavenly Father, having purposed our recovery from sin and death,
has instituted for this end the agency and mediation of
his Son; that he has given an illustrious deliverer to
the world, through whose toils and sufferings we may
rise to purity and immortal life. - I say, then, that revelation is consistent with nature, when nature is truly
interpreted by reason.  I see it bringing out with noonday brightness the truths which dawn in nature; so that
it is reason inl its most perfect form.
I have thus carried Christianity abroad into nature.
I now carry it within, and compare it with the human
soul; and is it consistent with the great truths of reason
which I discover there?  I affirm, that it is.  When I
look into the soul, I am at once struck with its immeasurable superiority to the body.  I am  struck with the
contrast between these different elements of my nature,
between this active, soaring mind, and these limbs and
material organs which tend perpetually to the earth, and
are soon to be resolved into dust.  How consistent is
Christianity with this inward teaching!  In Christianity,
with what strength, with what bold  relief, is the supremacy of the spiritual nature brought out!  What
contempt does Jesus cast on the body and its interests,
when compared with the redemption of the soul! —




52        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
Another great truth dawns on me when I look within
I learn more and more, that the great springs of happiness and misery are in the mind, and that the efforts of
men to secure peace by other processes than by inward
purification, are vain strivings; and Christianity is not
only consistent with, but founded on, this great truth;
teaching us, that the kingdom of heaven is within us,
and proposing, as its great end, to rescue the mind
from evil, and to endue it with strength and dignity
worthy its divine origin. - Again, when I look into the
soul I meet intimations of another great truth.  I discern in it capacities which are not fully unfolded here.
I see desires which find no adequate good on earth.  I
see a principle of hope always pressing forward into
futurity.  Here are marks of a nature not made wholly
for this world; and how  does Christianity agree with
this teaching of our own souls?  Its great doctrine is
that of a higher life, where the spiritual germ within us
will open for ever, and where the immortal good after
which the mind aspires will prove a reality.   Had I
time, I might survey distinctly the various principles of
the soul, the intellectual, moral, social, and active, and
might show you how Christianity accords with them all,
enlarging their scope and energy, proposing to them
nobler objects, and aiding their developement by the
impulse of a boundless hope.  But, commending these
topics to your private meditation, I will take but one
more view of the soul.  When I look within, I see
stains of sin, and fears and forebodings of guilt; and
how adapted to such a nature is Christianity, a religion
which contains blood-sealed promises of forgiveness to
the penitent, and which proffers heavenly strength to
fortify us in our conflict with moral evil. - I say, then,




CHRtliSTIANITY A RATiON.AL RELIGION.    53
Christianity consists with the nature within us, as well
as with nature around us.  The highest truths in respect
to the soul awe not only responded to, but are carried
out by Christianity, so that it deserves to be called the
perfection of reason.
I have now shown, in a variety of particulars, that
Christianity has the character of Consistency, and thus
satisfies the first demand of reason.  It does not divide
the mind against itself, does not introduce discord into
the intellect, by proposing doctrines which our consciousness and experience repel.  But these views do
not exhaust the present topic.  It is not enough to
speak of Christianity as furnishing views which harmonize with one another, and with all known truth.  It
gives a new and cheering consistency to the views with
which we are furnished by the universe. Nature and
providence, with all their beauty, regularity, and beneficence, have yet perplexing aspects. Their elements
are often seen in conflict with one another.  Sunshine
and storms, pleasure and pain, success and disaster)
abundance and want, health and sickness, life and death,
seem to ordinary spectators to be mixed together con.
fusedly and without aim.  Reason desires nothing so
earnestly, so anxiously, as to solve these discordant
appearances, as to discover some great, central, reconi
ciling truth, around which they may be arranged, and
from which they may borrow light and harmony.  This
deep want of the rational nature, Christianity has sups
plied. It has disclosed a unity of purpose in the seemingly hostile dispensations of providence, and opened
to the mind a new world of order, beauty, and benevolent design.  Christianity, revealing, as it does, the
unbounded mercy of God to his sinful creatures; reP..




15j4       CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGTON.
vealing an endless futurity, in which the inequalities of
the present state are to be redressed, and which reduces
by its immensity the sorest pains of life to light and
momentary evils; revealing a Moral Perfection, which
is worth all pain and conflicts, and which is most effectually and gloriously won amidst suffering and temptation; revealing in Jesus Christ the sublimity and rewards of tried and all-enduring virtue; revealing in Him
the founder of a new moral kingdom  or power, which
is destined to subdue the world to God; and proffering
the Holy Spirit to all who strive to build up in themselves and others the reign of truth and virtue; Christianity, I say, by these revelations, has poured a flood
of light over nature and providence, and harmonized the
infinite complexity of the works and ways of God.
Thus it meets the first want of the rational nature, the
craving for consistency of views.  It is reason's most
effectual minister and friend.  Is it not, then, eminently
a Rational Faith?
Having shown that Christianity has the character of
consistency, I proceed to the second mark or stamp of
reason on a religion, that is, Universality; and this I
claim for Christianity.  This indeed is one of the most
distinguishing features of our religion, and so obvious
and striking as to need little illustration.  When I examine the doctrines, precepts, and spirit of Christianity,
I discover, in them all, this character of Universality.
I discover nothing narrow, temporary, local. The Gospel bears the stamp of no particular age or country.
It does not concern itself with the perishable interests
of communities or individuals; but appeals to the Spiritual, Immortal, Unbounded principle in human nature.
Its aim is to direct the mind to the Infinite Being, annd




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.       55
"to an Infinite good.  It is not made up, like other religions, of precise forms and details; but it inculcates
immutable and all-comprehending principles' of duty,
leaving every man to apply them for himself to the
endless variety of human conditions.  It separates from
God the partial, limited views of Judaism and heathenism, and holds him forth in the sublime attributes of the
Universal Father.  In like manner, it inculcates philanthropy without exceptions or bounds; a love to man
as man, a love founded on that immortal nature of
which all men partake, and which binds us to recognise
in each a child of God and a brother.  The spirit of
bigotry, which confines its charity to a sect, and the
spirit of aristocracy, which looks on the multitude as an
inferior race, are alike rebuked by Christianity; which,
eighteen hundred years ago, in a narrow and superstitious age, taught, what the present age is beginning to
understand, that all men are essentially equal, and that
all are to be honored, because made for immortality and
endued with capacities of ceaseless improvement.  The
more I examine Christianity, the more I am struck with
its universality.  I see in it a religion made for all regions and all times, for all classes and all stages of society. It is fitted, not to the Asiatic or the European,
but to the essential principles of human nature, to man
-under the tropical or polar skies, to all descriptions of
intellect and condition.  It speaks a language which all
men need and all can understand; enjoins a virtue,
which is man's happiness and glory in every age and
clime; and ministers consolations and hopes which answer to man's universal lot, to the sufferings, the fear,
and the self-rebuke, which cleave to our nature in every
-outward change.  I see in it the light, not of one na



CfRtISTANIrY A RArIOrT, L IALIGION.
tion, but of the world; and a light reaching beyond the
world, beyond time, to higher modes of existence and
to an interminable futurity.  Other religions have been
intended to meet the exigencies of particular countries
or timnes, and therefore society in its progress has out.
grown them; but Christianity meets more and more the
wants of the soul in proportion to the advancement of
our race, and thus proves itself to be Eternal Truth.
After these remarks, may I not claim for Christianity
that character of universality which is the highest distinction of reason?  To understand fully the confirmation which these views give to the Gospel, you must
compare it with the religions prevalent in the age of
Christ, all of which bore the marks of narrow, local,
temporary institutions. How striking-the contrast! And
how singular the fact, that amid this darkness there
sprung up a religion so consistent and universal, as to
deserve to be called the perfection of reason!
I do and must feel, my friends, that the claim of
Christianity to the honor of being a rational religion,
is fully established.  As such I commend it to you.
As such it will more and more approve itself, in proportion as you study and practise it. You will never
find cause to complain, that by adopting it you have enslaved or degraded your highest powers.  Here, then,
I might stop, and might consider my work as done.
But I am aware that objections have been made to the
rational character of our religion, which may still linger
in the minds of some of my hearers. A brief notice
of these may aid the purpose, and will form  a proper
conclusion, of this discourse.
I imagine that were some wbol are present to speak,




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.      57
they would tell me, that if Christianity be judged by its
fruits, it'deserves any character but that of rational.  I
should be told that no religion has borne a more abundant
barvestof extravagance and fanaticism.  I should be told
that reason is a calm, reflecting, sober principle, and I
should be asked whether such is the character of the
Christianity which has overspread the world.  Perhaps
some of you will remind me of the feverish, wild, passionate religion, which is now systematically dispersed
through our country, and I shall be asked whether a system under which such delusions prevail can be a rational
one.
To these objections I answer, You say much that is
true.  I grant that reason is a calm and reflecting principle, and I see little calmness or reflection among many
who take exclusively the name of Christ.  But I say,
you have no right to confound Christianity with its professors.  This religion, as you know, has come down to
us through many ages of darkness, during which it must
have been corrupted and obscured.  Common candor
requires that you should judge of it as it came from its
Founder.  Go, then, to its original records; place yourselves near Jesus; and tell me if you ever found yourselves in the presence of so calm a teacher.  We indeed
discern in Jesus great earnestness, but joined with entire self-control.  Sensibility breathes through his whole
teaching and life, but always tempered with wisdom.
Amidst his boldest thoughts and expressions, we discover no marks of ungoverned feeling or a diseased imagination.' Take, as an example, his longest discourse, the
Sermon on the Mount.  How weighty the thoughts!
How grave and dignified the style! You recollect, that
the multitude were astonished, not at the passionate




58        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
vehemence, but at the authority, with which he spoke.
Read next the last discourse of Jesus to his disciples in
St. John's Gospel.  What a deep, yet mild and subdued
tenderness mingles with conscious greatness in that wonderful address.  Take what is called the Lord's Prayer,
which Jesus gave as the model of all prayer to God.
Does that countenance fanatical fervor, or violent appeals
to our Creator?  Let me further ask, Does Jesus anywhere place religion in tumultuous, ungoverned emotion?
Does he not teach us, that obedience, not feeling, marks
and constitutes true piety, and that the most acceptable
offering to God is to exercise mercy to our fellow-creatures?  When I compare the clamorous preaching and
passionate declamation, too common in the Christian
world, with the composed dignity, the deliberate wisdom, the freedom from all extravagance, which characterized Jesus, I can imagine no greater contrast; and I
am sure that the fiery zealot is no representative of
Christianity.
I have done with the first objection; but another class
of objections is often urged against the reasonable character of our religion.  It has been strenuously maintained, that Christianity contains particular doctrines which
are irrational, and which involve the whole religion to
which they are essential, in their own condemnation.
To this class of objections I have a short reply.  I insist that these offensive doctrines do not belong to Christianity, but are human additions, and therefore do not
derogate from its reasonableness and truth.  What is the
doctrine most frequently adduced to fix the charge of
irrationality on the Gospel?  It is the Trinity.  This is
pronounced by the unbeliever a gross offence to reason.
It teaches that there is one God, and yet th.at there are




CIHRiSTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.      59
three divine persons.  According to the doctrine, these
three persons perform different offices, and sustain different relations to each other.  One is Father, another his
Son.  One sends, another is sent.  They love each
othcr) converse with each other, and make a covenant
with each other; and yet, with all these distinctions, they
are, according to the doctrine, not different beings, but
one being, one and the same God.  Is this a rational
doctrine? has often been the question of the objector to
Christianity.  I answer, No.  I can as easily believe
that the whole human race are one man, as that three infinite persons, performing such different offices, are one
God.  But I maintain, that, because the Trinity is irrational, it does not follow that the same reproach belongs
to Christianity; for this doctrine is no part of the Christian religion.  I know, there are passages which are continually quoted in its defence; but allow me to prove
doctrines in the same way, that is, by detaching texts
from their connexion and interpreting them without reference to the general current of Scripture, and I can prove
any thing and every thing from the Bible. I can prove,
that God has human passions.  I can prove transubstantiation, which is taught much more explicitly than the
Trinity.  Detached texts prove nothing.  Christ is called God; the same title is given to Moses and to rulers.
Christ has said, " I and my Father are one;" so he
prayed that all his disciples might be one, meaning not
one and the same being, but one in affection and purpose.
I ask you, before youl judge on this point, to read the
Scriptures as a whole, and to inquire into their general
strain and teaching in regard to Christ.  I find him uniformly distinguishing between himself and God, calling
himself, not God the Son, but the Son of God, contin,




60        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
ually speaking of himself as sent by God, continually
referring his power and miracles to God.  I hear him
saying, that of himself he can do nothing, and praying to
his Father under the character of the only true God.
Such I affirm to be the tenor, the current, the general
strain of the New  Testament; and the scattered passages, on which a different doctrine is built, should
have no weight against this host of witnesses.  Do not
rest your faith on a few texts.  Sometimes these favorite
texts are no part of Scripture. For example, the famous passage on which the Trinity mainly rests, " There
are three that bear record in Heaven, the Father, the
Word, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one," —
this text, I say, though found at present in John's Epistle, and read in our churches, has been pronounced by
the ablest critics a forgery; and a vast majority of the
educated ministers of this country are satisfied, that it is
not a part of Scripture.  Suffer no man, then, to select
texts for you as decisive of religious controversies.
Read the whole record for yourselves, and possess yourselves of its general import.  I am very desirous to separate the doctrinie in question from Christianity, because
it fastens the charge of irrationality on the whole religion.
It is one of the great obstacles to the propagation of the
Gospel.  The Jews will not hear of a Trinity.  I have
seen in the countenance, and heard in the tones of the
voice, the horror with which that people shrink from the
doctrine, that God died on the cross.  Mahometans, too,
when they hear this opinion from Christian missionaries,
repeat the first article of their faith, (' There is one
God ~" and look with pity or Scorn on the disciples of
J esus, as deserters of the plainest and greatest truth of
religion.  Even the Indian of our wilderness, who wor



CHRISTIANITY A, RATIONAL RELIGON.       61
ships the Great Spirit, has charged absurdity on the
teacher who has gone to indoctrinate him in a Trinity.
HIow many, too, in Christian countries, have suspected
the whole religion for this one error.  Believing, then, as
I do, that it forms no part of Christianity, my allegiance
to Jesus Christ calls me openly to withstand it.  In
so doing I would wound no man's feelings. I doubt not,
that they who adopt this doctrine intend, equally with
those who oppose it, to render homage to the truth and
service to Christianity.  They think that their peculiar
faith gives new interest to the character and new authority
to the teaching of Jesus. But they grievously err. The
views, by which they hope to build up love towards
Christ, detract from the perfection of his Father; and I
fear, that the kind of piety, which prevails now in the
Christian world, bears witness to the sad influence of
this obscuration of the true glory of God. We need
not desert reason or corrupt Christianity, to insure the
purest, deepest love towards the only true God, or
towards Jesus Christ, whom he has sent for our redemption.
I have named one doctrine, which is often urged
against Christianity as irrational.  There is one more on
which I would offer a few  remarks.  Christianity has
often been reproached with teaching, that God brings
men into life totally depraved, and condemns immense
multitudes to everlasting misery for sins to which their
nature has irresistibly impelled them.  This is said to be
irrational, and consequently such must be the religion
which teaches it.  I certainly shall not attempt to vindicate this theological fiction.  A more irrational doctrine
could not, I think, be contrived; and it is something
worse; it is as immoral in its tendency, as it is unreaVOL. IV.              6




62        CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION
sonable.  It is suited to alienate men from  God and
from one another. Were it really believed (which it
cannot be), men would look up with dread and detestation to the Author of their being, and look round with
horror on their fellow-creatures.  It would dissolve society.  Were men to see in one another wholly corrupt
beings, incarnate fiends, without one genuine virtue, society would become as repulsive as a den'of lions or a
nest of vipers.  All confidence, esteem, love, would
die; and without these, the interest, charm, and worth
of existence would expire. What a pang would shoot
through a parent's heart, if he were to see in the smiling
infant a moral being continually and wholly propense
to sin, in whose mind were thickly sown the seeds of
hatred to God and goodness, and who had commenced
his existance under the curse of his Creator?- What
good man could consent to be a parent, if his offspring
were to be born to this infinitely wretched inheritance?
I say, the doctrine is of immoral tendency; but I do not
say that they who profess it are immoral.  The truth is,
that none do or can hold it in its full and proper import.
I have seen its advocates smile as benignantly on the
child whom their creed has made a demon, as if it were
an angel; and I have seen them mingling with their fellow-creatures as cordially and confidingly as if the doctrine of total depravity had never entered their ears.
Perhaps the most mischievous effect of the doctrine is
the dishonor which it has thrown on Christianity.  This
dishonor I would wipe away. Christianity teaches no
such doctrine.  Where do you find it in the New Testament? Did Jesus teach it, when he took little children in his arms and blessed them, and said " Of such' the kingdom of God"?  Did Paul teach it, when




CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.       63
hie spoke of the Gentiles, who have not the law, or a
written revelation, but who do by nature the things contained in the law? Christainity indeed speaks strongly
of human guilt, but always treats men as beings who
have the power of doing right, and who have come into
existence under the sSmile of their Creator.
I have now completed my vindication of the claim c
the Gospel to the character of a rational religion; and
my aim has been, not to serve a party, but the cause of
our common Christianity. At the present day, one of
the most urgent duties of its friends is, to rescue it from
the reproach of waging war with reason.  The character of our age demands this.  There have been times
when Christianity, though loaded with unreasonable doctrines, retained its hold on men's faith; for men had
not learned to think.  They received their religion as
children learn the catechism; they substituted the priest
for their own understandings, and cared neither what
nor why they believed.  But that day Is gone by, and
the spirit of freedom, which has succeeded it, is subjecting Christianity to a scrutiny more and more severe;
and if this religion cannot vindicate itself to the reflecting, the calm, the wise, as a reasonable service, it
cannot stand.  Fanatical sects may, for a time, spread
an intolerant excitement through a community, and impose silence on the objections of the skeptical.  But
fanaticism is the epidemic of a season; it wastes itself by
its own violence. Sooner or later the voice of reflection
will be heard.  MAen will ask, What are the claims of
Christianity?  Does it bear the marks of truth?  And
if it be found to war with nature and reason, it will be,
and it ought to be abandoned.  On this ground, I am
anxious that Christianity should be cleared from  all




64         CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION.
hunian additions and corruptions. If indeed irrational
doctrines belong to it, then I have no desire to separate
them from it.  I have no desire, for the sake of upholding the Gospel, to wrap up and conceal, much less to
deny, any of its real principles.  Did I think that it
was burdened with one irrational doctrine, I would say
so, and I would leave it, as I found it, with this millstone round its neck.  But I know none such.  I meet,
indeed, some difficulties in the narrative part of the
New  Testament; and there are arguments in the Epistles, which, however suited to the Jews, to whom  they
were first addressed, are not apparently adapted to men
at large; but I see not a principle of the religion, which
my reason, calmly and impartially exercised, pronounces inconsistent with any great truth. I have the strongest conviction, that Christianity is reason in its most
perfect form, and therefore I plead for its disengagement
from the irrational additions with which it has been
clogged for ages.
With these views of Christianity, I do and I must
hold it fast.  I cannot surrender it to the cavils or scoffs
of infidelity.  I do not blush to own it, for it is a rational religion.  It satisfies the wants of the intellect as
well as' those of the heart.  I know that men of strong
minds have opposed it.  But, as if Providence intended
that their sophistry should carry a refutation on its own
front, they have generally fallen into errors so gross
and degrading, as to prove them to be any thing rather
than the apostles of reason.  When I go from the study
of Christianity to their writings, I feel as if I were
passing from the warm, bright sun into a chilling twilight, which too often deepens into utter darkness.  I
am not, then, ashamed of the Gospel.  I see it glori



CHRISTIANITY A RATIONAL RELIGION        65
fled by the hostile systems which are reared for its destruction. I follow Jesus, because he is eminently " the
Light "; and I doubt not, that, to his true disciples, he
will be a guide to that world, where the obscurities of
our present state will be dispersed, and where reason as
well as virtue will be unfolded under the quickening influence and in the more manifest presence of God.
6'








SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
DISCOURSE
PREACHED AT THE ANNUAL ELECTION,
MAY 26, 1830.
IoHN viii. 31, 32. 36: "Then said Jesusto those Jews which
believed on him, If ye continue in'my word, then are ye my:disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth
shall make you free."  " If the Son therefore shall make you
free, ye shall be free indeed."
THE Scriptures continually borrow from nature and
social life, illustrations and emblems of spiritual truth.
The character, religion, and blessings of Jesus Christ,
are often placed before us by sensible images.  His
influences on the mind are shadowed forth by the light
of the sun, by the vital union of the head with the
members, by the shepherd bringing back the wandering flock, by the vine which nourishes and fructifies
the branches, by the foundation sustaining the edifice,
by bread and wine invigorating the animal frame.  In
our text we have a figurative illustration of his influence or religion, peculiarly intelligible and dear to this
community.  He speaks of himself as giving freedom,
that great good of individuals and states; and by th-is




68                 SPIRIT UAL FI{REDOM.
similitude he undoubtedly intended to place before men',
in a strong and attractive light, that spiritual and inward liberty which his truth confers on its obedient
disciples.  Inward, spiritual liberty, this is the great
gift of Jesus Christ.  This will be the chief topic of
the present discourse.  I wish to show, that this isthe supreme good of men, and that civil and political
liberty has but little worth, but as it springs from and
invigorates this.
From what I have now said, the general tone of this
discourse may be easily anticipated.  I shall maintain,
that the highest interest of communities, as well as
individuals, is a spiritual interest; that outward and
earthly goods are of little worth, but as bearing on the
mind, and tending to its liberation, strength, and glory.
And I am fully aware that in taking that course, I lay
myself open to objection.  I shall be told, that I show
my ignorance of human nature, in attempting to interest men by such refined views of society; that I am
too speculative; that spirtual liberty is too unsubstantial and visionary to be proposed to statesmen as an
end in legislation; that the dreams of the closet should
not be obtruded on practical men; that gross and tangible realities can alone move the multitude; and that
to talk to politicians of the spiritual interests of society
as of supreme importance, is as idle as to try to stay
with a breath the force of the whirlwind.
I anticipate such objections.  But they do not move
me.  I firmly believe, that the only truth which is to
do men lasting good, is that which relates to the soul,
which carries them into its depths, which reveals to
them its powers and the purposes of its creation.' The
progress of society is retarded, by nothing more than




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.              69
by the low views which its leaders are accustomed to
take of human nature. Man,has a mind as well as a
body, and this he ought to know; and till he knows it,
feels it, and is deeply penetrated by it, he knows nothing
aright. His body should, in a sense, vanish away before his mind; or, in the language of Christ, he should
hate his animal life in comparison with the intellectual
and moral life which is to endure for ever.  This doctrine, however, is pronounced too refined.  Useful and
practical truth, according to its most improved expositors, consists in knowing that we have an animal nature,
and in making this our chief care; in knowing that we
have mouths to be filled, and limbs to be clothed; that
we live on the earth, which it is our business to till; that
we have a power of accumulating wealth, and that this
power is the measure of the greatness of the community! For such doctrines I have no respect.  I know
no wisdom but that which reveals man to himself, and
which teaches him to regard all social institutions, antd'his whole life, as the means of unfolding and exalting the
spirit within him.  All policy which does not recognise
this truth, seems to me shallow.  The statesman who
does not look at the bearing of his measures on the mind
of a nation, is unfit to touch one of men's great interests. Unhappily, statesmen have seldom understood
the sacredness of human nature and human society.
Hence, policy has become almost a contaminated word.
Hence, government has so often been the scourge of
mankind.
I mean not to disparage political science.  The best
constitution and the best administration of a state, are
subjects worthy of the profoundest thought.  But there
are deeper foundations of public prosperity than these.




70                SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
The statesman who would substitute these for that virtue which they ought to subserve and exalt, will only add
his name to the long catalogue which history preserves
of baffled politicians.  It is idle to hope, by our shortsighted contrivances, to insure to a people a happiness
which their own character has not earned.  The everlasting laws of God's moral government we cannot repeal; and parchment constitutions, however wise, will
prove no shelter from  the retributions whbich fall on a
degraded community.
With these convictions, I feel that no teaching is so
practical as that which impresses on a people the importance of their spiritual interests.  With these convictions, I feel that I cannot better meet the demands of
this occasion, than by leading you to prize, above all
other rights and liberties, that inward freedom  which
Christ came to confer.  To this topic I now solicit
your attention.
And first, I may be asked what I mean by Inward,
Spiritual Freedom. The common and true answer is,
that it is freedom from sin.  I apprehend, however, that
to many, if not to most, these words are too vague to
convey a full and deep sense of the greatness of the
blessing. Let me, then, offer a brief explanation; and
the most important remark in illustrating this freedom,
is., that it is not a negative state, nor the mere absence
of sin; for such a freedom  may be ascribed to inferior
animnals, or to children before becoming moral agents.
Spiritual freedom is the attribute of a mind, in which
reason and conscience have begun to act, and which is
free through its own energy, through fidelity to the truth,
through resistance of temptation.  I cannot therefore
better give my views, of spiritual freedom, than by say.



SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.                71
Mng, that it is moral energy or force of holy purpose put
forth against the senses, against the passions, against the
world, and thus liberating the intellect, conscience, and
will, so that they may act with strength and unfold themselves for ever.  The essence of spiritual freedom  is
power.  A man liberated from sensual lusts by a palsy,
would not therefore be inwardly free.  He only is free,
who, through self-conflict and moral resolution, sustained
by trust in God, subdues the passions which have debased him, and, escaping the thraldom of low objects,
binds himself to pure.and lofty ones.  That mind alone
is free, which, looking to God as the inspirer and rewarder of virtue, adopts his law, written on the heart
and in his word, as its supreme rule, and which, in obedience to this, governs itself, reveres itself, exerts faithfully its best powers, and unfolds itself by well-doing, in
whatever sphere God's providence assigns.
It has pleased the All-wise Disposer to encompass
us from  our birth by difficulty and allurement, to place
us in a world where wrong-doing is often gainful, and
duty rough and perilous, where many vices oppose the
dictates of the inward monitor, where the body presses
as a weight on the mind, and matter, by its perpetual
agency on the senses, becomes a barrier between us and
the spiritual world.  We are in the midst of influences,
which menace the intellect and heart; and to be free, is
to withstand and conquer these.
I call that mind free, which masters the senses, which
protects itself against animal appetites, which contemrns
pleasure and pain in comparison with its own energy,
which penetrates beneath the body and recognises its
own reality and greatness, which passes life, not in asking what it shall eat or drink, but in hungering, thirst.
ing, and seeking after righteousness.




72               BSPIRITUAL FREIDO'.
I call that mind free, which escapes the bondage of
matter, which, instead of stopping at the material universe and making it a prison wall, passes beyond it to its
Author, and finds in  the radiant signatures which it
everywhere bears of the Infinite Spirit, helps to its own
spiritual enlargement.
I call that mind free, which jealously guards its intellectual rights and powers, which calls no man master,
which does not content itself with a passive or hereditary faith, which opens itself to light whencesoever it
may come, which receives new truth as an angel from
heaven, which, whilst consulting others, inquires still
more of the oracle within itself, and uses instructions
from abroad, not to supersede but to quicken and exalt
its own energies.
I call that mind free, which sets no bounds to its love,
which is not imprisoned in itself or in a sect, which rec —
ognises in all human beings the image of God and the
rights of his children, which delights in virtue and sympathizes with suffering wherever they are seen, which
conquers pride, anger, and sloth, and offers itself up a
willing victim to the cause of mankind.
I call that, mind free, which is not passively framed
by outward circumstances, which is not swept away by
the torrent of events, which is not the creature of iccidental impulse, but which bends events to its own improvemlent, and acts fiom an inward spring, from  immutable principles which it has deliberately espoused.
If call that mind free, which protects itself against the
usu:trpations of society, which does not cower to humnan
opinion, which feels itself accountable to a higher tribunal than man's, which respects a higher law than fashion,
which respects itself too much to be the slave or tool
of the many or the few




SPIRITUAL FBREEDOM.                73
I call that mind free, which, through confidence in God:and in the power,of virtue, has cast off all fear but that
of wrong-doing, which no menace or peril can enthrall,
which is calm in the midst of tumults, and possesses itself though all else be lost.
I call that mind free, which resists the bondage of
habit, which  does not mechanically repeat itself and
copy the past, which does not live on its old virtues,
which does n-ot enslave itself to precise rules, but which
":rgets what is behind, listens for new and higher mo-nitions of conscience, and rejoices to pour itself forth in
fresh and higher exertions.
I call that mind free, which is jealous of its own freedom, which guards itself fromn being merged in others,
which guards its empire over itself as nobler than the,empire of the world.
In-finne, I call that mind -free, which, conscious of its
affinity with God, and confiding in his promises by Jesus
Christ, devotes itself fiithfully to the unfolding of all its
powers, which passes the bounds of time and death,
which hopes to advance for ever, and which finds inexhaustible powerl both for action and suffering, in the
prospect of immortality.
Such is the spiritual freedom  which Christ came to
give.  It consists in Inoral force, in self-control, in the
enlargenlent of tholluht and aafection, and in the unrestrained action of our best powers.  This is the great
good of Cthristianity, nor can  we conceive a greater
within the gift of God.  I know thiat to many, this will
seem too refined a good to be proposed as the great end
of society and government.  But our skepticism cannot
change the nature of things.  I know  how  little this
freedorn  is understood or enjoyed, how  enslaved men
VOL. IV.               7




7 4                SPIRITUAL FREE ADU.
are to sense, and passion, and the world; and I know,
too, that through this slavery they are wretched, and
that while it lasts no social insttution can give them
happiness.
I now proceed, as I proposed, to show, that civil or
political liberty is of little worth, but as it springs from,
expresses, and invigorates this spiritual freedom.  I account civil liberty as the chief good of states, because it
accords with, and ministers to, energy —and elevation of
mind.  Nor is this a truth so remote or obscure as to
need laborious proof or illustration.  For consider what
civil liberty means.  It consists in the removal of all restraint, but such as the public weal demands.  And what
is the end and benefit of removing restraint?  It is that
men may put forth their powers, and act from  themselves.  Vigorous and invigorating action is the -chief
fruit of all out!ard freedom.  Why break the cllains
firom the captive, but that be may bring into play his liberated limbs?  Why open his prison, but that he may
go forth, and open his eyes on a wide prospect, and
exert and enjoy his various energies? Liberty, which
does not minister to action and the growth of power, is
only a name, is no better than slavery.
The chief benefit of free institutions is clear and tinutterably precious.  Their chief benefit is, that they aid
freedoni of mind,, that they give scope to man's faculties7
that they throw  him  on his own resources, and sum-.mon himn to work out his own happiness.  It is, that,
by removing restraint from  intellect, they favor force,
originality, and enlargement of thought.  It is, that, by
removing restraint fiom worship, they favor the ascent
of the soul to God.  It is, that, by removing restraint




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.                 75
from  industry, they stir up invention and enterprise to
explore and subdue the material world, and thus rescue
the  race from  those sore  physical wants and  pains,
which  narrow  and blight the mind.  It is, that they
cherish noble sentiments, frankness, courage, and selfrespect.
Free institutions  contribute  in no  small degree to
freedom  and force of mind, by teaching the essential
equality of men, and their right and  duty to govern,
themselves; and I cannot but consider the superiority
of an elective goveiirnlent, as consisting very much in
the testimony which it bears to these ennobling truths.
It has often been said, that a good code of laws, and
not tlie form  of government, is what determines a people's happiness.  But good laws, if not splinging friom
the community, if imposed by a master, would lose
much of their value.  The best code is that which has
its origin in the will of the people who obey it; which,
Whlilst it speaks with authority, still recognises self.
government as the primary right and duty of a rational
being; and which thus cherishes in the individual. be
his condition what it may, a just self-respe:t.
We mlay learn, that the chief good and the moat
precious friuit of civil liberty, is spiritual freedom  and
power, by considering what is the chief evil of tyranry.
I know  that tyranny does evil by invading men's outward inter ests,  by making property and lift insecure,
by robbing the laborer to pamper the noble and king.
But its worst influence is within.  Its chief curse is,
that it breaks and tames the spirit, sinks man in his
own eyes, takes away vigor of thought and actioll, substitutes for conscience an outwsard rule,  iakes hinm  abject,. cowardly, a parasite and a cringing slave.  This




*:              SSPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
is the curse of tyranny.  It wars with the soul, and
thus it wars with God.   ATWe read in. theologians and
poets, of angels fighting against the Creator, of battlesin heaven.  But God's throne in heaven is unassailable.
The only war against God is against his image, against
the (livine principle in the soul, and this is waged by
tyranny in all its forms.  WTe here see the chief curse
of tyranny; and this should teaehl us that civil freedom
is a blessing, chiefly as it re-verences the human soul,
and ministers to its growth and power.
Without this inward, spiritual fi'eedomn, outward liberty is of little worth. What boots it, that i am crushed
by no foreign yoke, if through ignorance and vice,
through selfishness and fear, I want the command of
my own mind?  The worst tyrants are those which
establish themselves in our own breast.  The man who
wants force of principle and purpose, is a slave, however free the air he breathes.  The mind, after all, is.
our only possession, or, in other words, we possess alt
things through its energy and enlargement; and civil in.
stitutions are to be estimated by the free and pure minds
to which they give birth.
It will be seen from  these remarks, that I consider
the freedom  or moral strength of the individual mind,
as the supreme good, and the highest end of government..  I am  aware that other views are often- taken.
It -is said that government is intended for the public,
for the community, not for the individual.  The idea of
a national interest prevails in the mni'nds of statesmen,.
and to this it is thought that the individual may be sacrificed..  But I would; maninta-in, that the individual is
not made for the state, so much as the state for the individual,    A  man is not created for political, relations




SPIRiTUAL PFREEDOM.              77
As his highest end, but for indefinite spiritual progress)
and is placed in political relations as the means of his
progress. The human soul is greater, lnoore sacred, than
the state, and must never be sacrificed to it.  The
human soul is to outlive all earthly institutions.  The
distinction of nations is to pass away.  Thrones, which
have stood for ages, are to meet the doom  pronounced
upon all man's works.  But the individual mind survives, and the obscurest subject, if true to God, will
rise to a power.never wielded by earthly i)otentates.
A  human being is a member of the community, not
as a limb is a member of the body, or as a wheel is a
part of a machine, intended only to contribute to some
general, joint result. IHe was created, not to be mlerged
in the whole, as a drop in the ocean, or as a particle
of sand on the sea-shore, and to aid only in composing
a mass.  He is an ultimate being, made for his own
perfection as the highest end, made to maintain an. individual existence, and to serve others only as far as
consists with hiis owni virtue and progress.  Hitherto
governments have tended greatly to obscure this importance of the individual, to depress him  in his own
eyes, to give him the idea of an outward interest more
important than' the invisible soul, and of an outward
authority more sacred than the voice of God in his
own secret conscience.  Rulers have called the private
man the property of the state, meaning generally by the
state themnselves, and thus the many have been inmmaolated to the few, and have even believed that this was
their highest destination.  These views cannot bhe too
earnestly withstood.  Nothing seems to me so needful
as to give to the mind the consciousness, which governments have done so much to suppress, of its own sep.
7*




SPIRITUAL FREEDMOMI.
arate worth.  Let the individual: feel, that, through hAi
immortality, he, may concentrate in his own being a
greater good than that of nations.  Let him  feel that he,
is placed in the community,  not to part with his indi —
viduality, or to become a tool, but that he should find:
a sphere for his various powers, and a preparation for
immortal glory.  To me, the progress of society consists in nothing more, than in. bringing out the individual, in giving him  a: consciousness of his own being,
and in quickening him, to strengthen  and elevate his
own mind..
In  thlus maintaining that the individual' is the end
of social institutions,. I may be thought to discourage
public eff6rts and the sacrifice of private interests to,
the state.  Far from  it,  No. man, I affirm, will serve
his fellow-beings so effectually, so fervently, as he who]
is not their slave; as he who, casting off every other
yoke, subjects himself to the law  of duty in his owIr
mind.-  For this law enjoins a disinterested and generous spirit, as mani's glory and likeness to his  lraker,
Individuality, or moral self-subsistence, is the' surest
foundation of an all-comprehending love.  No man so
multiplies his bonds with  the community, as he who
watches most jealously over his own, perfection.  There
is a beautiful harmony between the good of the state
and the moral fieedom  and dignity of the individual.
Were it not so, were these interests in any case discordant, were an individual ever called to serve hiscountry by acts debasing his own mind, bhe ought not
to waver a moment as to the good which hle should
prefer.  Property, life, he should joyfully surrender to
the state.  But his soul he mirst'never stain or enslave.
From  poverty,  pain, the rack, tile gibbet, he should




SPIRITUAL FRTEEDOM.              79
not recoil; but for no good of others ought he to part
with self-control, or violate the inward law. WVe speak
of the patriot as sacrificing himself to the public weal
Do we mean, that he sacrifices what is most properly
himself, the principle of piety and virtue?  Do we
not feel, that, however great may be the good, which,
through his sufferings, accrues to the state, a greater
and purer glory redounds to himself, and that the most
precious fruit of his disinterested services, is the strength
of resolution and philanthropy which is accumulated in
his own soul?
I have thus endeavoured to illustrate and support the
doctrine, that spiritual freedom, or force and elevation
of soul, is the great good to which civil freedom is subordinate, and which all social institutions should propose
as their supreme end.
I proceed to point out some of the means by which
this spiritual liberty may be advanced; and, passing
over a great variety of topics, I shall confine myself to
two;-Religion and Government.
I begin with Religion, the mightiest agent in human
affairs.  To  this belongs preeminently  the work of
freeing and elevating the mind.  All other means are
comparatively impotent.  The sense of God is the only
spring, by which the crushing weight of sense, of the
world, and temptation, can be withstood.  Without a
consciousness of our relation to God, all other relations
will prove adverse to spiritual life and progress.  I
have spoken of the religious sentiment as the mightiest
agent on. earth.   It has accomplished more, it has
strengthened men to do and suffer more, than all other
principles.  It can sustain the mind against all other




o80               SPIRITUAL PREEDOM.
powers.  Of all principles it is the deepest, the most
ineradicable.  In its perversion, indeed, it has been
fruitful of crime and woe; but the very energy which
it has given to the passions, when they have mixed
with and corrupted it, teaches us the omnipotence with
which it is imbued.
Religion gives life, strength, elevation to the mind,
by connecting it with the Infinite Mind; by teaching it
to regard itself as the offspring and care of the Infinite
Father, who created it that he might communicate to it
his own spirit and perfections, who framed it for truth
and virtue, who framed it for himself, who subjects it
to sore trials, that by conflict and endurance it may
grow strong, and who has sent his Son to purify it
from  every sin, and to clothe it with immortality.  It is
religion alone, which nourishes patient, resolute hopes
and efforts for our own souls. Without it, we can hardly escape self-contempt, and the contempt of our race.
Without God, our existence has no support, our life no
aim, our improvements no permanence, our best labors
no sure and enduring results, our spiritual weakness no
power to lean upon, and our noblest aspirations and
desires no pledge of being realized in a better state.
Struggling virtue has no friend; suffering virtue no
promise of victory.  Take away God, and life becomes
mean, and man poorer than the brute, — I am  accustomred to speak of the greatness of' thuman nature e; but
it is great only through its parentage; great, because
descended firom  God, because connected Nwith a goodness and power fiom which it is to be enriched for ever;
and nothing but the consciousness of this connexion,
can give that hope of elevation, through which alone
the mind is to rise to true strength and liberty.




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.              81
All the truths of religion conspire to one end, spiritual
liberty.  All the objects which it offers to our thoughts
are sublime, kindling, exalting.  Its fundamental truth is
the existence of one God, one Infinite and Everlasting
Father; and it teaches us to look on- the universe as pervaded, quickened, and vitally joined into one harmonious
and beneficent whole, by his ever-present and omnipotent
love.  By this truth it breaks the power of matter and
sense, of present pleasure and pain, of anxiety and fear.
It turns the mind from the visible, the outward and perishable, to the Unseen, Spiritual, and Eternal, and, allying it with pure and great objects, makes it free.
I well know, that what I now say, may seem to some
to want the sanction of experience.  By many, religion
is perhaps regarded as the last principle to give inward
energy and freedom.  I may be told of its threatenings,
and of the bondage which they impose.  I acknowledge
that religion has threatenings, and it must have themn;
for evil, misery, is necessarily and unchangeably bound
up with wrong-doing, with the abuse of moral power.
From the nature of things, a mind disloyal to God and
duty, must suffer; and religion, in uttering this, only reechoes the plain teaching of conscience.  But let it be
remembered, that the single end of the threatenings of
religion, is to make us spiritually firee.  They are all directed against the passions which enthrall and degrade us.
They are weapons given to conscience, with which to
fight the good fight, and to establish its throne within us.
When not thus used, they are turned from their end; and
if by injudicious preaching they engender superstition, let
not the fault be laid at the door of religion.
I do not indeed wonder that so many doubt the power
of religion to give strength, dignity, and freedom to the




82                 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
mind.  What bears this name too often yields no such
fruits. HIere, religion is a form, a round of prayers and
rites, an attempt to propitiate God by flattery and fawning.  There, it is terror and subjection to a minister or
priest; and there, it is a violence of emotion, bearing
away the mind like a whirlwind, and robbing it of selfdirection.  But true religion disclaims connexion with
these usurpers of its name.  It is a calm, deep conviction of God's paternal interest in the improvernent, happiness, and honor of his creatures; a practical persuasion, that he delights in virtue and not in forms and flatteries, and that he especially delights in resolute effort to
conform ourselves to the disinterested love and rectitude
which constitute his own glory.  It is for this religion,
that I claim the honor of giving dignity and freedom to
the mind.
The need of religion to accomplish this work, is in no
degree superseded by what is called the progress of society.  I should say that civilization, so far from  being
able of itself to give moral strength and elevation, includes
causes of degradation, which nothing but the religious
principle can withstand.  It multiplies, undoubtedly, the
comforts and enjoyments of life; but in these I see sore
trials and perils to the soul.  These minister to the sensual element in humnan nature, to that part of our constitulion, which allies, and too often enslaves us, to' the
earth.  Of consequence, civilization needs, that proportional aid should be given to the spiritual element in man,
and I know not where it is to be found but in religion.
W'ithout this, the civilized man, with all his properties
and refinements, rises little in true dignity above the savage whom he disdains. You tell me of civilization, of
its arts and sciences, as the sure instruments of human




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.                83
elevation. You tell me, how by these man masters and
bends to his use the powers of nature.  I know he masters them, but it is to become in turn their slave.  He
explores and cultivates the earth, but it is to grow more
earthly.  He explores the hidden mine, but it is to forge
himself chains.  lHe visits all regions, but therefore lives
a stranger to his own soul.  In the very progress of civilization, I see the need of an antagonist principle to the
senses, of a power to free man from matter, to recall him
from the outward to the inward world; and religion alone
is equal to so great a work.
The advantages of civilization have their peril.  In
such a state of society, opinion and law impose salutary
restraint, and produce general order and security.  But
the power of opinion grows into a despotism, which more
than all things, represses original and free thought, subverts individuality of character, reduces the community
to a spiritless monotony, and chills the love of perfection.
Religion, considered simply as the principle, which balances the power of human opinion, which takes man out
of the grasp of custom and fashion, and teaches him to
refer himself to a higher tribunal, is an infinite aid to
moral strength and elevation.
An important benefit of civilization, of which we hear
much from the political economist, is the division of labor, by which arts are perfected.  But this, by confining
the mind to an unceasing round of petty operations, tends
to break it into littleness.  We possess improved fabrics,
but deteriorated men.  Another advantage of civilization
is, that manners are refined, and accomplishments multiplied; but these are continually seen to supplant simpli.
city of character, strength of feeling, the love of nature,
the love of inward beauty and glory.  Under outward




84               SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
courtesy, we see a cold selfishness, a spirit of calcula
tion, and little energy of love.
I confess I look round on civilized society with many
fears, and with more and more earnest desire, that a regenerating spirit from heaven, from religion, may descend
upon and pervade it.  I particularly fear, that various
causes are acting powerfully among ourselves, to inflame
and madden that enslaving and degrading principle, the
passion for property.  For example, the absence of hereditary distinctions in our country, gives prominence to
the distinction of wealth, and holds up this as the chief
prize to ambition.  Add to this the epicurean, self-indulgent habits, which our prosperity has multiplied, and
which crave insatiably for enlarging wealth as the only
means of gratification.  This peril is increased by the
spirit of our times, which is a spirit of commerce, industry, internal improvements, mechanical invention, political economy, and peace. Think not that I would disparage commerce, mechanical skill, and especially pacific
connexions among states.  But there is danger that these
blessings may by perversion issue in a slavish love of
lucre.  It seems to me, that some of the objects which
once moved men most powerfully, are gradually losing
their sway, and thus the mind is left more open to the
excitement of wealth.  For example, military distinction
is taking the inferior place which it deserves; and the
consequence will be, that the energy and ambition, which
hlave been exhausted in war, will seek new directions;
and happy shall we be if they do not flow into the channel of gain.  So I think that political eminence is to be
less and less coveted; and there is danger that the energies absorbed by it will be spent in seeking another kind
of dominion, the dominion of property. And if such




SPlRITUAL PREEIJDOM.              85
be the result, what shall we gain by what is called the
progress of society?  What shall we gain by national
peace, if men, instead of meeting on the field of battle,
wage with one another the more inglorious strife of dishlonest and rapacious traffic? What shall we gain by the
waning of political ambition, if the intrigues of the exchange take place of those of the cabinet, and private
pomp and luxury be substituted for the splendor of public life?  I am  no foe to civilization.  I rejoice in its
progress.  But I mean to say, that, without a pure religion to modify its tendencies, to inspire and refine it, we
shall be corrupted, not ennobled by it.  It is the excellence of the religious principle, that it aids and carries
forward civilization, extends science and arts, multiplies
the conveniences and ornaments of life, and at the same
time spoils them of their enslaving power, and even converts them  into means and ministers of that spiritual
freedom, which, when left to themselves, they endanger
and destroy.
In order, however, that religion should yield its full
and best fruits, one thing is necessary; and the times
require that I should state it with great distinctness.  It
is necessary that religion should be held and professed in
a liberal spirit. Just as far as it assumes an intolerant,
exclusive, sectarian form, it subverts, instead of strengthening, the soul's freedom, and becomes the heaviest and
most galling yoke which is laid on the intellect and conscience.  Religion must be viewed, not as a monopoly
of priests, ministers, or sects, not as conferring on any
man a right to dictate to his fellow-beings, not as an instrument by which the few may awe the many, not as
bestowing on one a prerogative which is not enjoyed by
all, but as the property of every human being, and as the
VOl. Tr.               8




86               WSPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
great subject for every human mind.  It must be regarded as the revelation of a common Father, to whom
all have equal access, who invites all to the like immediate communion, who has no favorites, who has appointed
no infallible expounders of his will, who opens his works
and word to every eye, and calls upon all to read for
themselves, and to follow fearlessly the best convictions of
their own understandings.  Let religion be seized on by
individuals or sects, as their special province; let them
clothe themselves with God's prerogative of judgment;
let them succeed in enforcing their creed by penalties of
law, or penalties of opinion; let them succeed in fixing a
brand on virtuous men, whose only crime is free investigation; and religion becomes the most blighting tyranny
which can establish itself over the mind.  You have all
heard of the outward evils, which religion, when thus
turned into tyranny, has inflicted; how it has dug dreary
dungeons, kindled fires for the martyr, and invented instruments of exquisite torture.  But to me all this is less
fearful than its influence over the mind.  When I see
the superstitions which it has fastened on the conscience,
the spiritual terrors with which it has haunted and spbdued the ignorant and susceptible, the dark, appalling
views of God which it has spread far and wide, the
dread of inquiry which it has struck into superior understandings, and the servility of spirit which it has made to
pass for piety, -- when I see all this, the fire, the scaffold,
and the outward inquisition, terrible as they are, seem to
me inferior evils.  I look with a solemn joy on the heroic spirits, who have met freely and fearlessly pain and
death in the cause of truth and human rights. But there
are other victims of intolerance, on whom I look with
unmixed sorrow. They are those, who, spell-bound by




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM                87
early prejudice, or by intimidations from the pulpit and
the press, dare not think; who anxiously stifle every
doubt or misgiving in regard to their opinions, as if to
doubt were a crime; who shrink from the seekers after
truth as from infection; who deny all virtue, which does
not wear the livery of their own sect; who, surrendering to others their best powers, receive unresistingly a
teaching which wars against reason and conscience;
and who think it a merit to impose on such as live within their influence, the grievous bondage, which they
bear themselves.  How  much to be deplored is it,
that religion, the very principle which is designed to
raise men above the judgment and power of man, should
become the chief instrument of usurpation over the
soul.
Is it said, that in this country, where the rights of
private judgment, and of speaking and writing according to our convictions, are guarantied with every solemnity by institutions and laws, religion can never
degenerate into tyranny; that here its whole influence
must conspire to the liberation and dignity of the mind?
I answer, we discover little knowledge of human nature,
if we ascribe to constitutions the power of charming to
sleep the spirit of intolerance and exclusion.  Almost
every other bad passion may sooner be put to rest; and
for this plain reason, that intolerance always shelters
itself under the name and garb of religious zeal.  Because we live in a country, where the gross, outward,
visible chain is broken, we must not conclude that we
are necessarily free.  There are chains not made of
iron, which eat more deeply into the soul.  An espionage of bigotry may as effectually close our lips and
chill our hearts, as an armed and hundred-eyed police.




88                 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
There  are countless ways by which  men in a free
country may encroach on their neighbours' rights.  In
religion, the instrument is ready made and always at
hand.  I refer to opinion, combined and organized in
sects, and swayed by the clergy.  We say we have, no
Inquisition.  But a sect skilfully organized, trained to
utter one cry, combined to cover with reproach whoever may differ from themselves, to drown the free expression of opinion by denunciations of heresy, and to
strike terror into the multitutle by joint and perpetual
mena6e, - such a sect is as perilous and palsying to
the intellect as the Inquisition.  It serves the ministers
as effectually as the sword.  The present age is notoriously sectarian, and therefore hostile to liberty.  One
of the strongest features of our times, is the tendency
of men to run into associations, to lose themselves in
masses, to think and act in crowds, to act from the excitement of numbers, to sacrifice individuality, to identify themselves with parties and sects. At such a period,
we ought to fear, and cannot too much dread, lest a
host should be marshalled under some sectarian standard, so numerous and so strong, as to overawe opinion, stifle inquiry, compel dissenters to a prudent silence, and thus accomplish the end, without incurring the
odium, of penal laws.  We have indeed no small protection  against this evil, in the multiplicity of sects.
But let us not forget, that coalitions are as practicable
and as perilous in church as in state; and that minor
differences, as they are called, may be sunk, for the
purpose of joint exertion against a common foe.  Happily, the spirit of this people, in spite of all narrowing
influences, is essentially liberal.  Here lies our safety.
The liberal spirit of the people, I trust, is more and




sIRMtUAL PREtDoM.               89
nmore to temper and curb that exclusive spirit, which
is the besetting sin of their religious guides.
In this connexion I may be permitted to say, and I
say it with heartfelt joy, that the government of this
Commonwealth has uniformly distinguished itself by the
spirit of religious freedom.  Intolerance, however rife
abroad, has found no shelter in our halls of legislation,
As yet, no sentence of proscription has been openly or
indirectly passed on any body of men for religious opinions.  A  wise and righteous jealousy has watched over
our religious liberties, and been startled by the first
movement, the faintest sign, of sectarian ambition.  Our
Commonwealth can boast no higher glory.  May none
of us live to see it fade away.
I have spoken with great freedom of the sectarian
and exclusive spirit of our age.  I would earnestly recommend liberality of feeling and judgment towards men
of different opinions.  But, in so doing, I intend not
to teach, that opinions are of small moment, or that we
should make no effort for spreading such as we deem
the truth of God. I do mean, however, that we are to
spread them by means which will not enslave ourselves
to a party, or bring others into bondage.  We must
respect alike our own and others' minds.  We must not
demand a uniformity in religion which exists nowhere
else, but expect, and be willing, that the religious principle, like other principles of our nature, should manifest itself in different methods and degrees.  Let us not
forget, that spiritual, like animal life, may subsist and
grow  under various forms.  Whilst earnestly recommending what we deem the pure and primitive faith,
let us rernember, that those who differ in word or speculation, may agree in heart; that the spirit of Chris,




90               SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
tianity, though mixed and encumbered with error, 1i
still divine; and that sects which assign different ranks
to Jesus Christ, mlay still adore that godlike virtue,
which constituted him the glorious representative of his
Father.  Under the disguises of Papal and Protestant
Creeds, let us learn to recognise the lovely aspect of
Christianity, and rejoice to believe, that, amidst dissonant forms and voices, the common Father discerns and
accepts the same deep filial adoration.  This is true freedom and enlargement of mind, a liberty which he who
knows it would not barter for the widest dominion which
priests and sects have usurped over the human soul.
I have spoken of Religion; I pass to Government,
another great means of promoting that spiritual liberty,
that moral strength and elevation, which we have seen
to be our supreme good.  I thus speak of government,
not because it always promotes this end, but because it
may and should thus operate.  Civil institutions should
be directed chiefly to a moral or spiritual good, and,
until this truth is felt, they will continue, I fear, to be
perverted into instruments of crime and misery.  Other
views of their design, I am  aware, prevail.  We are
sometimes told, that government has no purpose but an
earthly one; that, whilst religion takes care of the soul,
government is to watch over outward and bodily interests. This separation of our interests into earthly and
spiritual, seems to me unfounded.  There is a unity in
our whole being.  There- is one great end for which
body and mind were created, and all the relations of
life were ordained; one: central aim, to which our wvhole
being should tend; and this is the unfolding of our
intellectual and moral nature; and no man thorougtly
understands government, but he who reverences it as




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.                91
a part of God's stupendous machinery for this sublime
design.  I do not deny that government is instituted to
watch over our present interests.  But still it has a spiritual or moral purpose, because present interests are, in
an important sense, spiritual; that is, they are instruments and occasions of virtue, calls to duty, sources of
obligation, and are only blessings when they contribute
to the health of the soul.  For example, property, the
principal object of legislation; is the material, if I may
so speak- on which justice acts, or through which this
cardinal virtue is exercised and expressed; and property
has no higher end than to invigorate, by calling forth,
the principle of impartial rectitude.
Government is the great organ of civil society, and
we should appreciate the former more justly, if we better understood the nature and foundation of the latter.
I say, then, that society is throughout a moral institution.
It is something very different from an assemblage of animals feeding in the same pasture.  It is the combination
of rational beings for the security of right.  Right, a
moral idea, lies at the very foundation of civil communities; and the highest happiness which they confer, is the
gratification of moral affections.  We  are  sometimes
taught, that society is the creature of compact, and selfish calculation; that men agree to live together for the
protection of private interests.  But no.  Society is of
earlier and higher origin.  It is God's ordinance, and
answers to what is most godlike in our nature.  The
chief ties that hold men together in communities, are not
self-interests, or compacts, or positive institutions, or
force.  T'hey are invisible, refined, spiritual ties, bonds
of the mind and heart.  Our best powers and affections
Crave instinctively for society as the sphere in which




92                SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
they are to find their life and happiness. That men may
greatly strengthen and improve society by written constitutions, I readily grant.  There is: however, a constitution which precedes all of men's making, and after
which all others are to be formed; a constitution, the
great lines of which are drawn in our very nature; a
primitive law of justice, rectitude, and philanthropy,
which all other laws are bound to enforce, and from
which all others derive their validity and worth.
Am I now asked, how government is to promote
energy and elevation of moral principle? I answer,
not by making the various virtues matters of legislation,
not by preaching morals, not by establishing religion;
for these are not its appropriate functions. It is to serve
the cause of spiritual freedom, not by teaching or persuasion, but by action; that is, by rigidly conforming
itself, in all its measures, to the moral or Christian law;
by the most public and solemn manifestations of reverence for right, for justice, for the general weal, for the
principles of virtue.  Government is the most conspicuous of human institutions, and were moral rectitude
written on its front, stamped conspicuously on all its
operations, an immense power would be added to pure
principle in the breasts of individuals.
To be more particular, a government may, and
should, ennoble the mind of the citizen, by continually
holding up to him the idea of the general good.  This
idea should be impressed in characters of light on all
legislation; and a government directing itself resolutely
and steadily to this end, becomes a minister of virtue.
It teaches the citizen to attach a sanctity to the public
weal, carries him beyond selfish regards, nourishes magnanimity, and the purpose of sacrificing himself, as far




SPTRITUAL FREEDOM.               93
as virtue will allow, to the commonwealth. On the
other hand, a government which wields its power for
selfish interests, which sacrifices the many to a few, or
the state to a party, becomes a public preacher of crime,
taints the mind of the citizen, does its utmost to make
him  base and venal, and prepares him, by its example,
to sell or betray that public interest for which he should
be ready to die.
Again, on government, more than on any institution,
depends that most important principle, the sense of
justice in the community.  To promote this, it should
express, in all its laws, a reverence for right, and an
equal reverence for the rights of high and low, of rich
and poor.  It should choose to sacrifice the most dazzling advantages, rather than break its own faith, rather
than unsettle the fixed laws of property, or in any way
shock the sentiment of justice in the community.
Let me add one more method by which government
is to lift up and enlarge the minds of its citizens.  In its
relations to other governments, it should inviolably adhere to the principles of justice and philanthropy.  By
its moderation, sincerity, uprightness, and pacific spirit
towards foreign states, by abstaining from secret arts and
unfair advantages, by cultivating free and mutually beneficial intercourse, it should cherish among its citizens the
ennobling consciousness of belonging to the human family, and of having a common interest with the whole
human' race.  Government only fulfils its end, when it
thus joins with Christianity in inculcating the law of uni..
versal love.
Unhappily, governments have seldom  recognised as
the highest duty, the obligation of strengthening pure and
noble principle in the community. I fear, they are even




94-               SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
to be numbered among the chief agents in corrupting nations. Of all the doctrines by which vice has propagated
itself, I know none more pernicious than the maxim, that
statesmen are exempted from the common restraints of
morality, that nations are not equally bound with individuals by the eternal laws of justice and philanthropy,
Through this doctrine, vice has lifted its head unblushingly in the most exalted stations.  Vice has seated itself on the throne.  The men who have wielded the
power and riveted the gaze of nations, have lent the
sanction of their greatness to crime.  In the very heart
of nations, in the cabinet of rulers, has been bred a
moral pestilence, which has infected and contaminated
all orders of the state.  Through the example of rulers,
private men have learned to regard the everlasting law as
a temporary conventional rule, and been blinded to the
supremacy of virtue.
That the prosperity of a people is intimately connected with this reverence for virtue, which I have inculcated
on legislators, is most true, and cannot be too deeply
felt.  There is no foundation for the vulgar doctrine,
that a state may flourish by arts and crimes.  Nations
and individuals are subjected to one law.  The moral
principle is the life of communities.  No calamity can
befall a people so great, as temporary success through a
criminal policy, as the hope thus cherished of trampling
with impunity o01  the authority of God.  Sooner or
later, insulted virtue avenges itself terribly on states as
well as on private men. We hope, indeed, security
and the quiet enjoyment of our wealth, from  our laws
and institutions. But civil laws find their chief sanction
in the law written within by the finger of God. In proportion as a people enslave themselves to sin, the foun



SPIRITUAL FREEDOMI.                95
tain of public justice becomes polluted.  The mnost
wholesome statutes, wanting the support of public opinion, grow  impotent.  Self-seekers, unprincipled  men,
by flattering bad passions, and by darkening the public
mind, usurp the seat of judgment and places of power
and trust, and turn free institutions into lifeless forms or
instruments of oppression.  I especially believe, that
communities suffer sorely by that species of immorality
which the herd of statesmen have industriously cherished as of signal utility, I mean, by hostile feeling towards
other countries.  The common doctrine has been, that
prejudice and enmity towards foreign states, are means
of fostering a national spirit, and of confirming union at
home.  But bad passions, once instilled into a people,
will never exhaust themselves  abroad.  Vice  never
yields the fruits of virtue.  Injustice to strangers does
not breed justice to our friends.  Malignity, in every
form, is a fire of hell, and the policy which feeds it, is
infernal.  Domestic feuds and the madness of party are
its natural and necessary issues; and a people hostile to
others, will demonstrate in its history, that no form of
inhumanity or injustice, escapes its just retribution.
Our great error as a people is, that we put an idolatrous trust in our friee institutions; as if these, by some
magic power, must secure our rights, however we enslave ourselves to evil passions.  We need to learn that
the forms of liberty are not its essence; that, whilst the
letter of a free constitution is preserved, its spirit may
be lost; that even its wisest provisions and most guarded
powers may be made weapons of tyranny.  In a counr
try called free, a majority may become a faction, and a
proscribed minority may be insulted, robbed, and oppressed. Under elective governments, a dominant party




96               SPIRITUAL FREEDOiM.
may become as truly a usurper, and as treasonably conspire against the state, as an individual who forces his
way by arms to the throne.
I know that it is supposed, that political wisdom can
so form institutions, as to extract from themn freedom,
notwithstanding a people's sins.  The chief expedient
for this purpose has been, to balance, as it is called,
men's passions and interests against each other, to use
one man's selfishness as a check against his neighbour's,
to produce peace by the counteraction and equilbrium
of hostile forces.  This whole theory I distrust.  The
vices can by no management or skilful poising be made
to do the work of virtue.  Our own history has ah'eady
proved this.  Our government was founded on the doctrine of checks and balances; and what does experience
teach us?  It teaches, what the principles of our nature
might have taught, that,) whenever the country is divided into two great parties, the dominant party will possess itself of both branches of the legislature, and of the
different departments of the state, and will move towards
its objects with as little check, and with as determined
purpose, as if all powers were concentrated in a single
body.  There is no substitute for virtue.  Free institutions secure rights, only when secured by, and when invigorating that spiritual freedom, that moral power and
elevation, which I have set before you as the supremen
good of our nature.
According to these views, the first duty of a statesman is to build up the moral energy of a people.  This
is their first interest; and he who weakens it, inflicts
an injury which no talent can repair; nor should any
splendor of services, or any momentary success, avert
from him the infamy which he has earned. Let public




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.               97
men learn to think more reverently of their function.
Let them  feel that they are touching more vital interests than property.  Let them fear nothing so much as
to sap the moral convictions of a people, by unrighteous
legislation, or a selfish policy.  Let them  cultivate in
themselves the spirit of religion and virtue, as the first
requisite to public station.  Let no apparent advantage
to the community, any more than to themselves, seduce
them  to the infraction of any moral law.  Let them
put faith in virtue as the strength of nations.  Let them
not be disheartened by temporary ill success in upright
exertion.  Let them  remember, that while they and
their contemporaries live but for a day, the state is to
live for ages; and that Time, the unerring arbiter, will
vindicate the wisdom as well as the magnanimity of the
public man, who, confiding in the power of truth, justice, and philanthropy, asserts their claims, and reverently follows their monitions, amidst general disloyalty and
corruption.
I have hitherto spoken of the general influence which
government should exert on the moral interests of a
people, by expressing reverence for the moral law in
its whole policy and legislation.  It is also bound to
exert a more particular and direct influence.  I refer
to its duty of preventing and punishing crime.  This is
one of the chief ends of government, but it has received
as yet very little of the attention which it deserves.
Government, indeed, has not been slow to punish crime,
nor has society suffered for want of dungeons and gibbets.  But the prevention of crime and the reformation
of the offender have nowhere taken rank among the
first objects of legislation.  Penal codes, breathing vengeance, and too often written in blood, have been set
VOL. IV.               9




SPIRITUAL FREEDOiMI.
in array against the violence of human passions, and the
legislator's conscience has been satisfied with enacting
these.  Whether by shocking humanity he has not inultiplied offenders, is a question. into which he would do
wisely to inquire.
On the means of preventing crime, I want time, and
still more ability, to enlarge.  I would only say, that
this object should be kept in view through the whole of
legislation.  For this end, laws should be as few and as
simple as may be; for an extensive and obscure code
multiplies occasions of offence, and brings the citizen
unnecessarily into collision with the state.  Above all,
let the laws bear broadly on their fiont the impress of
justice and humanity, so that the moral sense of the
community may become their sanction.  Arbitrary and
oppressive laws invite offence, and take from  disobedience the consciousness of guilt.  It is even wise to
abstain from  laws, which, however wise and good in
themselves, have the semblance of inequality, which
find no response in the heart of the citizen, and which
will be evaded with little remorse.  The wisdom  of
legislation is especially seen in grafting laws on conscience.  I add, what seems to me of great importance, that the penal code should be brought to bear
with the sternest impartiality on the rich and exalted,
as well as on the poor and fallen.  Society suffers fromn
the crimes of the former, not less than by those of the
latter.  It has been truly said, that the amount of property taken by theft and forgery, is small compared with
what is taken by dishonfest insolvency.  Yet the thief
is sent to prison, and the dishonest bankrupt lives per
haps in state.  The moral sentiment of the community
is thus corrupted; and, for this and other solemn rea



SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.              99
sons, a reform is greatly needed in the laws which respect insolvency. I am shocked at the imprisonment
of the honest debtor; and the legislation, which allows
a creditor to play the tyrant over an innocent man,
would disgrace, I think, a barbarous age.  I am not
less shocked by the impunity with which criminal insolvents continually escape, and by the lenity of the
community towards these transgressors of its most essential laws.
Another means of preventing crime, is to punish it
wisely; and by wise punishment, I mean that which aims
to reform the offender.  I know that this end of punishment has been questioned by wise and good men.  But
what higher or more practicable end can be proposed?
You say, we must punish for example.  But history
shows that what is called examplary punishment cannot boast of great efficiency.  Crime thrives under severe penalties, thrives on the blood of:offenders.  The
frequent exhibition of such punishments hardens a
people's heart, and produces defiance and reaction in
the guilty.  Until recently, government seems to have
labored to harden the criminal by throwing him into
a crowd of offenders, into the putrid atmosphere of a
common prison.  Humanity rejoices in the reform,
which, in this respect, is spreading through our country.
To remove the convict firom bad influences is an essential step to his moral restoration.  It is however but a
step.  To place him under the aid of good influence
is equally important; and here individual exertion must
come to the aid of legislative provisions. Private Christians, selected at once for their judiciousness and philanthropy, must connect themselves with the solitary
prisoner, and by manifestations of a sincere fraternal




100              SPIRIVIrAL FREEDOMl.
interest, by conversation, books, and encouragement,
must touch within him chords which have long ceased
to vibrate; must awaken new hopes; must show him
that all is not lost, that God, and Christ, and virtue,
and the friendship of the virtuous, and honor, and immortality, may yet be secured. Of this glorious ministry of private Christianity, I do not despair.  I know
I shall be told of the failure of all efforts to reclaim
criminals. They have not always failed. And besides,
has philanthropy, has genius, has the strength of humanity, been fairly and fervently put forth in this great concern? I find in the New Testament no class of human beings whom  charity is instructed to forsake.  I
find no exception made by Him who came to seek and
save that which was lost.  I must add, that the most
hopeless subjects are not always to be found in prisons.
That convicts are dreadfully corrupt, I know; but not
more corrupt than some who walk at large, and are
not excluded from  our kindness.  The rich man who
defrauds is certainly as criminal as the poor man who
steals.  The rich man who drinks to excess contracts
deeper guilt, than he who sinks into this vice under the
pressure of want.  The young man who seduces innocence, deserves more richly the House of Correction,
than the unhappy female whom he allured into the path
of destruction.   Still more,'I cannot but remember
how much the guilt of the convict results from the general corruption of society.  When I reflect, how much
of the responsibility for crimes rests on the state, how
many of the offences, which are most severely punished, are to be traced to neglected education, to early
squalid want, to temptations and exposures which society might do much to relieve,  I feel that a spirit




SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.             10t
of mercy should temper legislation; that we should not
sever ourselves so widely from our fallen brethren; that
we should recognise in them the countenance and claims
of humanity; that we should strive to win them back
to God.
I have thus spoken of the obligation of government
to contribute by various means to the moral elevation
of a people. I close this head with expressing sorrow,
that an institution, capable of such purifying influences,
should so often be among the chief engines of a nation's
corruption.
In this discourse I have insisted on the supreme importance of-virtuous principle, of moral force, and elevation in the community; and I have thus spoken, not
that I might conform to professional duty, but from deep
personal conviction.  I feel, as I doubt not many feel,
that the great distinction of a nation, the only one worth
possessing, and which brings after it all other blessings,
is the prevalence of pure principle among the citizens.
I wish to belong to a state, in the character and institutions of which I may find a spring of improvement,
which I can speak of with an honest pride, in whose
records I may meet great and honored names, and
which is making the world its debtor by its discoveries
of truth, and by an example of virtuous freedom.  0
save me from a country which worships wealth, and
cares not for true glory; in which intrigue bears rule;
in which patriotism borrows its zeal from the prospect
of office; in which hungry sycophants besiege with supplication all the departments of state; in which public
men bear the brand of vice, and the seat of government
is a noisome sink of private licentiousness and political
corruption.  Tell me not of the honor of belonging to
~9*:




10O2              SPIRITUAL FREEDOM.
a free country.  I ask, does our liberty bear generous
fruits? Does it exalt us in manly spirit, in public virtue, above countries trodden under foot by despotism?
Tell me not of the extent of our territory.  I care not
how large it is, if it multiply degenerate men.  Speak
not of our prosperity.  Better be one of a poor people,
plain in manners, revering God and respecting themselves, than belong to a rich country which knows no
higher good than:riches.  Earnestly do I desire for this
country, that, instead of copying Europe with an' undiscerning servility, it may have a character ofrits own,
corresponding to the freedom  and equality of our institutions.  One Europe is enough.  One Paris: is enough.
How much to be desired is it, that, separated as we
are from  the eastern continent by an ocean, we should
be still more widely separated by simplicity of manners,
by domestic purity, by inward piety, by reverence for
human nature, by moral independence, by withstanding
that subjection to fashion and that debilitating sensuality,
which characterize the most civilized portions of the
old world.
Of this country I may say with peculiar emphasis,
that its happiness is bound up in its virtue.  On this
our union can alone stand firm.'Our union is not like
that of other nations, confirmed by the habits of ages,
and riveted by force.  It is a recent, and still more, a
voluntary union.  It is idle to talk of force as: binding
us together.   Nothing can retain a member of this
confederacy, when resolved on separation.  The; only
bonds that can permanently unite us, are moral ones.
That there are repulsive powers, principles of discord,
in these States, we all feel.  The attraction which is
to counteract them, is only to be found in a calm wis



SPIRITUAL PREEDOM.             103
dom, controlling the passions, in a spirit of equity and
regard to the common weal, and in virtuous patriotism,
clinging to union as the only pledge of freedom and
peace.  The union is threatened by sectional jealousies,
and collisions of local interests, which can be reconciled
only by a magnanimous liberality.  It is endangered by
the prostitution of executive patronage, through which
the public treasury is turned into a fountain of corruption, and by the lust for power, which perpetually convulses the country for the sake of throwing office into
new hands; and the only remedy for these evils, is to be
found in the moral indignation of the community, in a
pure, lofty spirit, which will overwhelm with infamy this
selfish ambition.
To the Chief Magistrate of this Commonwealth, and
to those associated with him in the Executive and Legislative departments, I respectfully commend the truths
which have now been delivered; and, with the simplicity
becoming a minister of Jesus Christ, I would remind
them of their solemn obligations to God, to their fellowcreatures, and to the interests of humanity, freedom,
virtue, and religion. IWe trust that in their high stations,
they will seek, not themselves, but the public weal, and
will seek it by inflexible adherence to the principles of
the Constitution, and still more to the principles of God's
Everlasting Law..








SELF-DENIAL.
M'~AT'rITEW XVi. 24: "Then said Jesus unto his disciples, if any
man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his
cross, and follow me."
TIIis passage is an example of our Saviour's mode of
teaching.  He has given us his truth in the costume of
the age; and this style is so common in the New Testament, that an acquaintance with the usages of those times
is necessary to the understanding of a large part of his
instructions.  The cross was then a mode of punishment
reserved for the greatest criminals, and was intended to
inflict the deepest disgrace as well as sorest pain.  " To
take up the cross " had therefore become a proverbial
expression of the most dreaded suffering and shame.
By this phrase in the text, Jesus intended to teach, that
no man could become his disciple without such a deep
conviction of the truth and excellence of his religion, as
would fortify the mind against persecution, reproach, and
death.  The command "to deny ourselves " is more
literal, but is an instance of what is very common in our
Saviour's teaching, I mean, of the use of unlimited'expressions, which require to be restrained by the good
sense of the hearer, and which, if taken without consid



M 06ELF- DEL TAL.
erable modification, may lead into pernicious error.  We
know that this precept, for want of a wise caution, has
driven men to self-inflicted penance and to the austerities
of the- cloister and wilderness; and it is one among many
proofs of the necessity of a calm and sober judgment to
a-beneficial use of Christianity.
In thi-s discourse IE shall offer remarks on the limits or
just extent of Christian Self-denial, and on the design of
Providence, in so constituting us, as to make self-denial
necessary; and in discussing these topics I shall set before you its obligation, necessity, and excellence.
We are to deny ourselves;. but how far? to what extent?  This is our first inquiry.  Are we to deny ourselves wholly? To deny ourselves in every power, faculty, and affection of our nature?  Has the duty no
bounds?  For example, are we to deny the highest part
of our nature, I mean conscience, or the moral faculty?
Are we to oppose our sense of right, or desire of virtue?
Every Christian says, No. Conscience is sacred; and
revelation is intended to quicken, not resist it.
Again, are we to deny reason, the intellectual faculty,
by which we weigh evidence, trace out causes and effects,
ascend to universal truths, and seek to establish harmony
among all our views?  The answer to this question
seems as plain as to the former.  Yet many good men
have seemed to dread reason, have imagined an inconsistency between faith and a free use of our intellectual
powers, and have insisted that it is a religious duty 1" to
prostrate our understandings."   To some this may even
seem  a principal branch of Christian self-denial.  The
error I think is a great one; and believing that the honor,s
progress, and beneficial influence of Christianity are involved in its removal, I wish to give it a brief consideration.




SELF- DENIAL.                107
I:amn told that I must deny reason.  I ask, Must I
deny it, when it teaches me that there is a God? if so,
the very foundation of religion is destroyed, and I am
-abandoned to utter unbelief.  Again, must I deny reason
when it forbids the literal interpretation of the text, which
commands us to hate father and mother -and our own
lives?  If so, I must rupture the most sacred ties of
domestic life, and must add to social vices the crime of.self-murder.  Surely reason, in its teachings on these
great subjects, is not to be denied, but revered and obeyed; and if revered here, where ought it to be conternned
and renuunced?
I am told, that we have a better guide than reason,'even God's word, and that this is to be followed and the
other denied.  But I ask, How do I know that Christianity- is God's word?  Are not the evidences of this
religi,n submitted to reason? and if this faculty be unwvorthy of trust, is not revelation necessarily involved in
the same condemnation?  The truth is, and it ought not
to be disguised, that our ultimate reliance is, and must
be, on our own reason.  Faith in this power lies at the
foundation of all other faith.  No trust can be placed in
God, if we discredit the faculty by which God is discerned. - I have another objection to the doctrine, that
we must deny reason in order to follow revelation.
Reason is the very faculty to which revelation is addressed, and by which alone it can be explained.  Without it
we should be incapable of divine teaching, just as without the eye we should lose the happiest influences of the
sun; and they who would discourage the use of reason,
that we may-better receive revelation, are much like
those, who should bind up or pluck out the eye, that we
might enjoy to the full the splendor of day.




08                  SEL - DEN I IA,.
Perhaps I shall be pointed to the many and gross errors into which reason has fallen on almost every subject,
and shall be told that here are motives for distrusting and
denying it.  I reply, first, by asking how we detect these
errors.  By what power do we learn that reason so often
misguides us?  Is it not by reason itself? and shall we
renounce it on account of its capacity of rectifying its
own wrong judgments? -  Consider next, that on no subject has reason gone more astray than in the interpretation of the Scriptures; so that if it is to be denied on
account of its errors, we must especially debar it fronm
the study of revelation; in other words, we must shut
the word of God in despair, a consequence which, to a
Protestant, is a sufficient refutation of the doctrine from
which it flows.
A common method of enforcing the denial of reason,
is to contrast it with the Infinite Intelligence of God, and
then to ask whether it can be prostrated too submissively, or renounced too humbly, before Him.  I acknowledge reverently the immeasurable superiority of God to
human reason; but I do not therefore contemn or renounce it; for, in the first place, it is as true of the
"rapt seraph " as of man, that his intelligence is most
narrow, compared with the Divine.  Is no honor therefore due to angelic wisdom?  In the next place, I observe that human reason, imperfect though it be, is still
the offspring of God, allied to him intimately, and worthy of its divine Parent.  There is no extravagance inll
calling it, as is sometimes done, " a beam of the infinite
light"; for it involves in its very essence those immutable and everlasting principles of truth and rectitude,
which constitute the glory of the Divine Mind.  It as-,'ends to the sublime idea of God by possessing kindred




SELF- DENIAL.               109
attributes, and knows him  only through its affinity with
him.  It carries within itself the germ of that spiritual
perfection, which is the great end of the creation.  Is
it not, then, truly a " partaker of a divine nature"?.
Can we think oi' speak of it too gratefully or with too:much respect? - The Infinity of God, so far from calling on me to prostrate and annihilate reason, exalts my
conception of it.  It is my faith in this perfection of
the Divine Mind, that inspires me with reverence for
the human, for they are intimately connected, the latter
being a derivation from the former, and endued with the
power of approaching its original more and more through
eternity.: Severed from  God, reason would ilose its
grandeur,  In his infinity it has at once a source and
a pledge of endless and unbounded improvement.  God
delights to communicate himself; and therefore his greatness, far from  inspiring contempt for human reason,
gives it a sacredness, and opens before it the most
elevating hopes.  The error of men is, not ~that they
exaggerate, but that they do not know or suspect, the
worth and dignity of their rational nature.
Perhaps I shall be told, that reason is not to be denied universally, but only in cases where its teachings.
are contradicted by revelation.  To this I reply, that a:
contradiction between reason and a genuine revelation
cannot exist. A doctrine claiming a divine origin would
refiute itself, by opposing any of the truths which reason
intuitively discerns, or which it gathers from  nature.
God is the "Father-of lights" and the'Author of
concord," and he cannot darken and distract the human
mind by jarring and irreconcilable instructions.  He
cannot subvert the authority of the very faculty through
which we arrive at the knowledge of himself.  A reveVOL. IV.              10




10                  SELF- DENIAL.
lation from the Author of our rational nature, will cer
tainly be adapted to its fundamental laws.  I am aware,
that it is very possible to give the name of reason to
rash prejudices and corrupt opinions, and that on this
ground we may falsely pronounce a genuine revelation
to be inconsistent with reason; and our liableness to
this delusion binds us to judge calmly, cautiously, and
in the fear of God.  But if, after a deliberate and impartial use of our best faculties, a professed revelation
seems to us. plainly to disagree with itself or to clash
with great principles which we cannot question, we
ought not to hesitate to withhold from  it our belief.  I
am surer that my rational nature is from God, than
that any book is an expression of his will.  This light
in my own breast is his primary revelation, and all subsequent ones must accord with it, and are in fact intended to blend with and brighten it.  My hearers, as
you value Christianity, never speak of it as in any thing
opposed to mat's rational nature.  Join not its foes in
casting on it this reproach.  It was given, not to supersede our rational faculties, but to quicken and invigorate
them, to open a wider field to thought, to bring peace
into the intellect as well as into the heart, to give harmony to all our views.  We grievously wrong Christianity, by supposing it to raise a standard against reason, or to demand the sacrifice of our noblest faculties. These are her allies, friiends, kindred. With these
she holds unalterable concord.  Whenever doctrines are
taught you from the Christian records, opposing any
clear conviction of reason and conscience, be assured
that it is not the teaching of Christ which you hear.
Some rash human expounder is subsituting his own
vrweak, discordant tones for the voice of God, which they,




'SELF-DENIM;.                 1 1 
no more resemble than the rattling chariot-wheel does
Heaven's awful thunder.- Never, never do violence
to your rational nature. He who in any case admits
doctrines which contradict reason, has broken  down
the great barrier between truth and falsehood, and lays
open his mind to every delusion.  The great mark of
error, which is inconsistency, ceases to shock him.  He
has violated  the first law  of the intellect, and must
pay the fearful penalty.  Happy will it be for him, if,
by the renunciation of reason, he be not prepared for
the opposite extreme, and do not, through a natural
reaction, rush into the excess of incredulity.  In the
records of individuals and of the race, it is not uncommon for an era of intellectual prostration to be followed
by an era of proud and licentious philosophy; nor will
this alternation cease to form this history of the human
mind, till the just rights of reason be revered.
I will notice one more, and a very common one,
in which the duty of denying reason is urged.  We are
told, that there is one case in which we ought to prostrate our understandings, and that is, the case of mys-,teries, whenever they are taught in the word of Goud.
The answer to this popular language is short. "Alysteries, continuing such, cannot, from  their very nature,
be believed, and of consequlence reason incurs no blame
in refusing them assent.  This will appear by considering what a mystery is.  In the language of Scripture,
and in its true sense, it is a secret, something unknown..I say, then, that from its nature it cannot be an object
of belief; for to know and to believe are expressions of
the same act of the mind, differing chiefly in this, that
the former is more applicable to wlhat admits of demonstration, the latter to probable truth.  I lhave no




11t2                SELF. DENIAL.
disposition to deny the existence of mysteries.: Every
truth involves them.  Every object which falls under
our notice, the most common and simple, contains
much that we do not know and cannot now penetrate.
We know not. for example, what it is which holds together the particles of the- meanest stone beneath our
feet, nor the manner in which the humblest plant grows.
That there are mysteries, secrets, things unklnown with.
out numbrer, I should be the last to deny.  I only maintain, and in so doing I utter an identical proposition,
that what is mysterious, secret, unknown, cannot at the
same time be known or an. object of faith.  It is a great
and common. error, to confound facts which we understandd, with the mysteries which lurk under them, and
to suppose that in believing the first we believe the lastBut no two things are more distinct, nor does. the most
thorough knowledge of the one imply the- least perception of the other.  For example, my hand is moved by
the act of my will. This is a plain fact. The words
which convey it are among the most intelligible.  I
believe. it without doubt.  But under this fact, which I
so well know, lies a great mystery.  The manner in
which the will acts on the hand, or the process which
connects them, is altogether unknown.  The fact and
the mystery, as you see, have nothing in common.
The former is so manifest, that I cannot, if I would.
withhold from  it lmy faith.  Of the latter not even a
glimpse is afforded me; not an idea of it has dawned
on the mind; and without ideas, there can, of course,
be no knowledge or belief.  These remarks apply to
revelation as well as to nature.  The subjects of which
revelation treats, God, Christ, human nature, holiness,
heaven, contain infinite mysteries.  What is revealed




SELF — DENTAIL. -            13
mn regard to them is indeed as nothing compared with
what remains secret.  But " secret things belong to
God," and the pride of reason is manifested, not in declining, but in professing, to make them objects of faith.
— It is the influence of time and of intellectual improvement to bring mysteries to light, both in nature and
religion; and just as far as this process goes on, the
belief of them becomes possible and right.  Thus, the
cause of eclipses, which was once a mystery, is now
disclosed, and who of us does not believe it?  In like
manner Christ revealed "C the mysteries of the kingdom
of heaven,' or the purposes and methods of God which
had been kept secret for ages, in relation to the redemption of the world from sin, death, and woe. Being now
revealed, or having ceased to be mysteries, these have
become objects of faith, and reason ranks them  among
its most glorious truths.
From what has been said, we see, that to deny reason
is no part of religion.  Never imagine yourselves called
to prostrate and contemn this noble nature.  Reverence
conscience. Foster, extend, enlighten intellects Never
imagine that you are forsaking God, in reposing a trust
in the faculties he has given you.  Only exercise them
with impartiality, disinterestedness, and a supreme love,of truth, and their instructions will conspire with revelation, and a beautiful harmony will more and more manifest itself in the lessons which God's book.and God's
works, which Christ and conscience teach.
But, if Reason and Conscience are not to be denied,
what is?  I answer, that there are other principles in
our nature.  Man is not wholly reason and conscience.
He has various appetites, passions, desires, resting on
present gratification and on outward objects; some of




114                 SELF- AENAL
which we possess in common with inferior animals, such
as sensual appetites and anger; and others belong more
to the mind, such as love of power, love of honor, love
of property, love of society, love of amusement, or a
taste for literature and elegant arts; but all referring to,
our- present being, and terminating chiefly on ourselves,
or on a few beings who are identified with ourselves.
These are to be- denied or renounced; by which I mean
not exterminated, but renounced  as masters, guides,
lords, and brought into strict and entire subordination to
our moral and intellectual powers.  It is a false idea,
that religion requires the extermination of any principle,
desire, appetite, or passion, which our Creator has implanted.  Our nature is a whole, a beautiful whole, and
no part can be spared.  You might as properly and innocently lop off a limb from the body, as eradicate any
natural desire from the mind.  All our appetites are iri
themselves innocent and useful, ministering to the general weal of the soul.  They are like the elements of
the natural world, parts of a wise and beneficent system,
but, like those elements, are beneficent only when restrained.
There are two remarks relating to our appetites and
desires, which will show their need of frequent denial
and constant control.  In the first place, it is true of
them all, that they do not carry within themselves their
own rule.  They are blind impulses.  Present their objects, and they are excited as easily when gratification
would be injurious as when it would be useful.  We are
not so constituted, for example, that we hunger and
thirst for those things only which will be nutritive and
wholesome, and lose all hunger and thirst at the moment
when we have eaten or drunk enough. We are not so




SELF  DENtAL.                1 15
made, that the desire of property springs up only when
property can be gained by honest means, and that it declines and dies as soon as we have acquired a sufficiency
for ourselves and for usefulness.  Our desires are undiscerning instincts, generally directed to what is useful,
but often clamoring for gratification, which would injure
health, debilitate the mind, or oppose the general good;
and this blindness of desire makes the demand for selfdenial urgent and continual.
I pass to a second remark. Our appetites and desires
carry with them a principle of growth or tendency to
enlargement.  They expand by indulgence, and, if not
restrained, they fill and exhaust the soul, and hence are
to be strictly watched over and denied.  Nature has set
bounds to the desires of the brute, but not to human
desire, which partakes of the illimitableness of the soul
to which it belongs.  In brutes, for example, the animal
appetites impel to a certain round of simple gratifications, beyond which they never pass.  But man, having
imagination and invention, is able by these noble faculties, to whet his sensual desires indefinitely.  He is able
to form new combinations of animal pleasures, and to
provoke appetite by stimulants.  The East gives up its
spices, and the South holds not back its vintage.  Sea
and land are rifled for luxuries.  Whilst the animal finds
its nourishment in a few plants, perhaps1 in a single blade,
man's table groans under the spoils of all regions; and
the consequence is, that in not a few cases the whole
strength of the soul runs into appetite, just as some rich
soil shoots up into poisonous weeds, and man, the
rational creature of God, degenerates into the most
thorough sensualist.   As another illustration of the ten



X116                 SELF - DENIAL.
dency of our desires to grow and usurp the whole mind
take the love of property.  We see this every day gaining dangerous strength, if left to itself, if not denied or
curbed.  It is a thirst which is inflamed by the very copiousness of its draughts.  Anxiety grows with possession. X Riches become dearer by time.  The love of
money, far fiom withering in life's winter, strikes deeper
and deeper root in the heart of age.  He who has more
than he can use or manage, grows more and more eager
and restless for new gains, muses by day and dreams by
night of wealth; and in this way the whole vigor of his
soul, of intellect and affection: shoots up into an intense)
unconquerable, and almost infinite passion for accumulation.
It is an interesting and solemn reflection, that the very
nobleness of human nature may become the means and
instrument of degradation.  The powers which ally us
to God, when pressed into the service of desire and
appetite, enlarge desire into monstrous excess, and irritate appetite into fury.  The rapidity of thought, the
richness of imagination, the resources of invention, when
enslaved to any passion, give it an extent and energy
unknown- to inferior natures; and just in proportion as
this usurper establishes its empire over us, all the nobler
attainments and products of the soul perish.  T''ruth,
virtue, honor, religion, hope, faith, charity, die.  Here
we see the need of self-denial.  The lower principles
of our nature not only act blindly, but, if neglected,
grow indefinitely, and overshadow and blight and destroy
every better growth.  Without self-restraint and selfdenial, the proportion, order, beauty, and harmoniy of
the spiritual nature are subverted, and the soul becomes
as monstrous and deformed, as the body would beconmer




SELF- DENAL.                1 17
were all the nutriment to flow'into a few organs and these
the least valuable, and to break out into loathsome excrescences, whilst the eye, the ear, and the active limbs
should pine, and be palsied, and leave us without guidance or power.
Do any of you now ask, how it comes to pass that
we are so constituted; why we are formed with desires
so blind and strong, and tending so constantly to enlargement and dominion; and how we can reconcile this constitution with God's goodness?  This is our second
question. Some will answer it, by saying, that this
constitution is a sinful nature derived from our first parents; that it comes not from God, but from Adam;
that it is a sad inheritance from the first fallen pair; and
that God is not to be blamed for it, but our original progenitor. But, I confess, this explanation does not satisfy
me.  Scripture says, it was God who made me, not
Adam.  What I was at birth, I was by the ordinance
of God.  Make the connexion between Adamn and his
posterity as close as you will, God must have intended
it, and God has carried it into effect. \My soul, at the
moment of its creation, was as fresh from the hands of
the Deity, as if no human parent had preceded me; and
I see not how to shift off on any other being the reproach of my nature, if it deserve reproach.  But does
it merit blame?  Is the tendency to excess and growth,
which we are conscious of in our passions and appetites, any derogation from the goodness or wisdom of
our Maker? Can we find only evil in such a constitution?  Perhaps it may minister to the highest purpose
of God.
It is true, that as we are now made, our appetites and
desires often war against reason, conscience, and reli



118                 SELF-DENIAL.
gion. But why is this warfare appointed? Not to extinguish these high principles; but to awaken and invigorate them.  It is meant to give them a field for action,
occasion for effort, and means of victory.  True, virtue
is thus opposed and endangered; but virtue owes its
vigor and hardihood to obstacles, and wins its crown by
conflict.  I do not say, that God can find no school for
character but temptation, and trial, and strong desire;
but I do say, that the present state is a fit and noble
school. You, my hearers, would have the path of virtue, from the very beginning, smooth and strewed with
flowers; and would this train the soul to energy?  You
would have pleasure always coincide with duty; and
how, then, would you attest your loyalty to duty? You
would have conscience and desire always speak the
same language, and prescribe the same path; and how,
then, would conscience assert its supremacy? God has
implanted blind desires, which often rise up against reason and conscience, that he may give to these high faculties the dignity of dominion and the joy of victory.  He
has surrounded us with rivals to himself, that we may
love him freely, and by our own unfettered choice erect
his throne in our souls.  He has given us strong desires
of inferior things, that the desire of excellence may
grow stronger than all. Make such a world as you wish,
let no appetite or passion ever resist God's will, no object of desire ever come in competition with duty; and
where would be the resolution, and energy, and constancy, and effort, and purity, the trampling under foot
of low interests, the generous self-surrender, the heroic
devotion, all the sublimities of virtue, which now throw
lustre over man's nature'and speak of his immortality?
You would blot the precept of self-denial from  the




SELF-DENIAL.                119
Scriptures, and the need of it from human life, and, in
so doing, you would blot out almost every interesting
passage in man's history. Let me ask you, when you
read that history, what is it which most interests and
absorbs you, which seizes on the imagination and memory, which agitates the soul to its centre? Who is the
man whom you select from the records of time as the
object of your special admiration? Is it he, who lived
to indulge himself? whose current of life flowed most
equably and pleasurably? whose desires were crowned
most liberally with means of gratification? whose table
was most luxuriantly spread? and whom fortune made
the envy of his neighbourhood by the fulness of her
gifts? Were such the men to whom monuments have
been reared, and whose memories, freshened with tears
of joy and reverence, grow and flourish and spread
through every age? 0 no! He whom we love, whose
honor we most covet, is he who has most denied and
subdued himself; who has made the most entire sacrifice of appetites and passions and private interest to
God, and virtue, and mankind; who has walked in a
rugged path, and clung to good and great ends in persecution and pain; who, amidst the solicitations of ambition, ease, and private friendship, and the menaces of
tyranny and malice, has listened to the voice of conscience, and found a recompense for blighted hopes
and protracted suffering, in conscious uprightness and
the favor of God. Who is it that is most lovely in
domestic life? It is the Martyr to domestic affection,
the mother forgetting herself, and ready to toil, suffer,
die for the happiness and virtue of her children.  Who
is it that we honor in public life? It is the Martyr to
his country, he who, serves her, not when she has hon



120                  SELF- DENIAL
ors for his brow  and wealth for his coffers, but who
clings to her in her danger and falling glories, and thinks
life a cheap sacrifice' to her safety and freedom. Whom
does the church retain in most grateful remembrance,
and pronounce holy and blessed? The self-denying,
self-immolating apostle, the fearless confessor, the:devoted martyr, men who have held fast the truth even in
death, and bequeathed it to future ages amidst blood.
Above all, to what moment of the life of Jesus does
the Christian turn, as the most affecting and sublime
illustration of his divine character?  It is that moment,
when, in the spirit of self-sacrifice, denying every human passion, and casting away every earthly interest,
he bore the agony and shame of the cross.  Thus all
great virtues bear the impress of self-denial:; and were
God's present constitution of our nature and life so
reversed as to demand'no renunciation of desire, the
chief interest and glory of our present being would pass
away. There would be nothing in history to thrill us
with admniration..  We should have no consciousness of
the power and- greatness of the soul.  We should love
feebly and. coldly, for we should find nothing in.one
another to love earnestly.  Let us not, then, complain
of Providence because it has made self-denial necessary; or complain of religion: because it summons us to
this work.  Religion and nature here hold one language.
Our own souls bear witness to the teaching of Christ,
that it is the " narrow way " of self-denial " which lead
eth unto life."
My, friends, at death, if reason is spared to us and
memory retains its, hold,on the past, will it gratify us
to see, that we have lived, not to deny, but to indulge
ourselves, that we have bowed our souls to any passion,




SELF-DENIAL.                121
that we gave the reins to lust, that we were palsied by
sloth, that, through love of gain, we hardened ourselves
against the claims of humanity, or, through love of
man's favor, parted with truth and moral independence,
or that in any thing reason and conscience were sacrificed to the impulse of desire, and God forgotten for
present good?  Shall we then find comfort in remembering our tables of luxury, our pillows of down, our
wealth amassed and employed for private ends, or our
honors won by base compliance with the world? Did
any man at his death ever regret his conflicts with himself, his victories over appetite, his scorn of impure
pleasures, or his sufferings for righteousness' sake?
Did any man ever mourn, that he had impoverished
himself by integrity, or worn out his frame in the service of mankind? Are these the recollections which
harrow the soul, and darken and appall the last hour?
To whom is the last hour most serene and full of hope?
Is it not to him, who, amidst perils and allurements, has
denied himself, and taken up the cross with the holy
resolution of Jesus Christ?
VOL. IV.              11








SELF-DENIAL.
MATTHEW XVi. 24: " Then said Jesus unto his disciples, if any
man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his
cross, and follow me."
IN the preceding discourse, I spoke of the just limits
and moral dignity of self-denial.  I resume the subject,
because it throws much light on the nature of true virtue, and helps us to distinguish moral goodness from
qualities which resemble it. Clear conceptions on this
point are inestimable. To love and seek excellence, we
must know what it is, and separate it from  counterfeits.
For want of just views of virtue and piety, men's admiration and efforts are often wasted, and sometimes
carry them wide of the great object of human life. Perhaps truth on this subject cannot be brought out more
clearly than by considering the nature of Self denial.
Such will be the aim of this discourse.
To deny ourselves,- is to deny, to withstand, to renounce whatever, within or without, interferes with our
conviction of right, or with the will of God.  It is to
suffer, to make sacrifices, for duty or our principles.
The question now offers itself, What constitutes the
singular merit of this suffering? Mere suffering, we




124                  SELP- bENIAL.
all know, is not virtue. Evil men often endure paii
as well as the good, and are evil still.  This and this
alone constitutes the worth and importance of the sacrifice, suffering, which enters into self-denial, that it
springs from and manifests Moral Strength, power over
ourselves, force of purpose, or the mind's resolute determination of itself to duty.  It is the proof and result
of inward energy.  Difficulty, hardship, suffering, sacrifices, are tests and measures of Moral Force, and the
great means of its enlargement.  To withstand these is
the same thing as to put forth power.  Self-denial, then,
is the will acting with power in the choice and prosecution of duty.  Here we have the distinguishing glory
of self-denial, and here we have the essence and distinction of a good and virtuous man.
The truth to which these views lead us, and which
I am now solicitous to enforce, is this, that the great
characteristic of a virtuous or religious mind is strength
of: Moral purpose.  This force is the measure of excellence.  The very idea of Duty implies that we are
bound to adopt and pursue it with a stronger and more
settled determination than any other object, and virtue
consists in fidelity to this primary dictate of conscience.
We have virtue only as far as we exert inward energy,
or as far as we put forth a strong and overcoming will
in obeying the law of God and of our own minds. Let
this truth be deeply felt.  Let us not confide in good
emotions, in kind feelings, in tears for the suffering, or
in admiration of noble deeds.  These are not goodness,
in the moral and Christian sense of that word.  It is
force of upright and holy purpose, attested and approved by withstanding trial, temptation, allurement,
and suffering; it is this, in which virtues consists.  I




SELF- DENIAL.                125
know nothing else which an enlightened conscience approves, nothing else which God will accept.
I am aware, that if I were called upon to state my
ideas of a perfect character, I should give an answer that
would seem at first to contradict the doctrine just expressed, or to be inconsistent with the stress which I
have laid on strength of moral purpose.  I should say,
that perfection of mind, like that of the body, consists
of two elements, of strength and beauty; that it consists
of firmness and mildness, of force and tenderness, of.
vigor and grace. It would ill become a teacher of Christianity to overlook the importance of sympathy, gentleness, humility, and charity, in his definition of moral excellence.  The amiable, attractive, mild attributes of the
mind are recommended as of great price in the sight of
God, by Him who was emphatically meek and lowly in
heart.  Still I must say, that all virtue lies in strength of
character or of moral purpose; for these gentle, sweet,
winning qualities rise into virtue only when pervaded and
sustained by moral energy.  On this they must rest, by
this they must be controlled and exalted, or they have no
moral worth. I acknowledge love, kindness, to be a great
virtue; but what do I mean by love, when I thus speak?
Do I mean a constitutional tenderness? an instinctive
sympathy? the natural and almost necessary attachment
to friends and benefactors? the kindness which is inseparable from our social state, and which is never wholly
extinguished in the human breast? In all these emotions
of our nature, I see the kind design of God; I see a
beauty; I see the germ and capacity of an ever-growing
charity.  But they are not virtues, they are not proper
objects of moral approbation, nor do they give any sure
pledge of improvement.  This natural amiableness I too
1.I *




126                  SELF-DENIAL.
often see in company with sloth, with uselessness, with
the contemptible vanity and dissipation of fashionable life.
It is no ground of trust, no promise of fidelity, in any
of the great exigencies of life.  The love, the benevolence, which I honor as virtue, is not the gift of nature
or condition, but the growth and manifestation of the
soul's moral power.  It is a spirit chosen as excellent,
cherished as divine, protected with a jealous care, and
especially fortified by the resistance and subjection of
opposite propensities.  It is the soul, determining itself
to break every chain of selfishness, to enlarge and to invigorate the kind affections, to identify itself with other
beings, to sympathize, not with a few, but with all the
living and rational children of God, to honor others'
worth, to increase and enjoy their happiness, to partake
in the universal goodness of the Creator, and to put
down within itself every motion of pride, anger, or sensual desire, inconsistent with this pure charity.  In other
words, it is strength, of holy purpose, infused into the
kind affections, which raises them into virtues, or gives
them  a moral worth, not found in constitutional amiableness.
I read in the Scriptures the praises of meekness.
But when I see a man meek or patient of injury through
tameness, or insensibility, or want of self-respect, passively gentle, meek through constitution or fear, I look
on him  with feelings very different from veneration.  It
is the meekness of principle; it is mildness replete with
energy; it is the forbearance of a man who feels a
wrong, but who curbs anger, who though injured resolves to be just, who voluntarily remembers that his foe.s a man and a brother, who dreads to surrender himself
to his passions, who in the moment of provocation sub



SLF - DENTAL.               127
Jects himself to reason and religion, and who holds fast
the great truth, that the noblest victory over a foe is to
disarm and subdue him by equity and kindness, - it is
this meekness which I venerate, and which seems to
me one of the divinest virtues.  It is moral power, the
strength of virtuous purpose, pervading meekness, which
gives it all its title to respect.
It is worthy of special remark, that without this moral
energy, resisting passion and impulse, our tenderest attachments degenerate more or less into weaknesses and
immoralities; sometimes prompting us to sympathize
with those whom we love, in their errors, prejudices,
and evil passions; sometimes inciting us to heap upon
them injurious praises and indulgences: sometimes urging us to wrong or neglect others, that we may the more
enjoy or serve our favorites; and sometimes poisoning
our breasts with jealousy or envy, because our affection
is not returned with equal warmth.  The principle of
love, whether exercised towards our relatives or our
country, whether manifested in courtesy or compassion,
can only become virtue, can only acquire purity, consistency, serenity, dignity, when imbued, swayed, cherish
ed, enlarged by the power of a virtuous will, by a selfdenying energy.  It is Inward Force, power over ourselves, which is the beginning and the end of virtue.
What I have now said of the kind affections is equally true of the religious ones.  These have virtue in
them, only as far as they are imbued with self-denying
strength.  I know that multitudes place religion in feeling.  Ardent sensibility is the measure of piety.  He
who is wrought up by preaching or sympathy into extraordinary fervor, is a saint; and the less he governs himself in hi; piety, the more he is looked upon as inspired




But 1 know of no religion which has moral worth or is
acceptable to God, but that which grows from  and is
nourished  by our own spiritual, self-denying energy.
Emotion towards God, springing up without our own
thought or care, grateful feelings at the reception of signal benefits, the swelling of the soul at the sight of nature, tenderness awakened by descriptions of the love
and cross of Christ, these, though showing high capacities, though means and materials of piety, are not of
themselves acceptable religion.  The religious character
which has true virtue, and which is built upon a rock, is
that which has been deliberately and resolutely adopted
and cherished, as our highest duty, and as the friend and
strengthener of all other duties; and which we have'
watched over and confirmed by suppressing inconsistent
desires and passions, by warring against selfishness and
the love of the world.
There is one fact very decisive on this subject.  It is
not uncommon to see people with strong religious feeling,
who are not made better by it; who at church or in other
meetings are moved perhaps to tears, but who make no
progress in self-government or charity, and who gain
nothing of elevation of mind in their common feelings and
transactions. They take pleasure in religious excitement,
just as others delight to be interested by a fiction or a
play.  They invite these emotions because they suppose
them to aid or insure salvation, and soon relapse into
their ordinary sordidness or other besetting infirmities.
Now to give the name of Religion to this mockery, is
the surest way to dishonor it.  True religion is not mere
emotion, is not something communicated to us without
our own moral effort.  It involves much self-denial.  Its
great character    is, not feeling, but the subjection of




SELF-DENIAL.                  129
our wills, desires, habits, lives, to the will of God, from
a conviction that what he wills is the perfection of virtue, and the true happiness of our nature.  In genuine
piety the mind chooses as its supreme good, the moral
excellence enjoined  by its Author, and resolutely renounces whatever would sully this divine image, and so
disturb its communion with God.  This religion, though
its essence be not emotion, will gradually gather and
issue in a sensibility, deeper, intenser, more glowing,
than the blind enthusiast ever felt; and then only does it
manifest itself in its perfect form, when, through a selfdenying and self-purifying power, it rises to an overflowing love, gratitude, and joy towards the Universal
Father.
In insisting on the great principle, that religion, or virtue, consists in strength of moral purpose, in the soul's
resolute determination of itself to duty, I am satisfied
that I express a truth, which has a witness and confirnation in the breast of every reflecting man.  We all of us
feel, that virtue is not something adopted from necessity,
something to which feeling impels us, something which
comes to us from constitution, or accident, or outward
condition; but that it has its origin in our moral freedom,
that it consists in moral energy; and accordingly we all
measure virtue by the trials and difficulties which it overcomes, for these are the tests and measures of the force
with which the soul adopts it. Every one of us, who
has adhered to duty, when duty brought no recompense
but the conviction of well-doing, who has faced the perils
of a good but persecuted cause with unshrinking courage, who has been conscious of an inward triumph over
temptation, conscious of having put down bad motives
and exalted good ones in his own breast, must remember




130                  SELF- DENIAL.
the clear, strong, authentic voice, the accents of peculiar
encouragement and joy, with which the inward judge
has at such seasons pronounced its approving sentence.
This experience is universal, and it is the voice of nature and of God, in confirmation of the great truth of
this discourse.
I fear, that the importance of strength in the Christian
character has been in some degree obscured by the habit
of calling certain Christian graces of singular worth by
the name of passive virtues.  This name has been given
to humility, patience, resignation; and I fear, that the
phrase has led some to regard these noble qualities as
allied to inaction, as wanting energy and determination.
Now the truth is, that the mind never puts forth greater
power over itself, than when, in great trials, it yields up
calmly its desires, affections, interests to God.  There
are seasons, when to be still demands immeasurably
higher strength than to act.  Composure is often the
highest result of power.  Think you it demands no
power to calm the stormy elements of passion, to moderate the vehemence of desire, to throw off the load of
dejection, to suppress every repining thought, when the
dearest hopes are withered, and to turn the'wounded
spirit from dangerous reveries and wasting grief, to the
quiet discharge of ordinary duties?  Is-there no power
put forth, when a man, stripped of his property, of the
fruits of a life's labor, quells discontent and gloomy forebodings, and serenely and patiently returns to the tasks
which Providence assigns?  I doubt not, that the allseeing eye of God sometimes discerns the sublimest human energy under a form and countenance, which by
tneir composure and tranquillity indicate to the human
spectator only passive virtues.




SELF- DENIAL.               131
The doctrine of this discourse is in every view interesting. To me it goes further than all others to
explain the present state.  If moral strength, if inward
power in the choice and practice of duty, constitute excellence and happiness, then I see why we are placed
in a world of obstructions, perils, hardships, why duty
is so often a "narrow  way," why the warfare of the
passions with conscience is so subtile and unceasing;
why within and without us are so many foes to-rectitude; for this is the very state to call forth and to
build up moral force.  In a world where duty and
inclination should perfectly agree, we should indeed
never err, but the living power of virtue could not
be developed.  Do not complain, then, of life's trials.
Through these you may gain incomparably higher good,
than indulgence and ease.  This view reveals to us
the impartial goodness of God in the variety of human
conditions. We sometimes see individuals, whose peculiar trials are thought to make their existence to them
an evil. But among such may be found the most favored children of God.  If there be a man on earth to be
envied, it is he, who, amidst the sharpest assaults from
his own passions, from fortune, from society, never falters in his allegiance to God and the-inward monitor. So
peculiar is the excellence of this moral strength, that I
believe the Creator regards one being who puts it forth,
with greater complacency than he would look on a world
of beings, innocent and harmless through the necessity
of constitution.  I know not that human wisdom has arrived at a juster or higher view of the present state, than
that it is intended to call forth power by obstruction, the
power of intellect by the difficulties of knowledge, the
power of conscience and virtue by temptation, allure



132                  SELF-D DENIAL,
ment, pleasure, pain, and the alternations of prosperous
and adverse life.  When I see a man holding faster his
uprightness in proportion as it is assailed, fortifying his
religious trust in proportion as Providence is obscure;
hoping in the ultimate triumphs of virtue, more surely
in proportion to its present afflictions; cherishing philanthropy amidst the discouraging experience of men's
unkindness and unthankfulness; extending to others a
sympathy which his own sufferings need, but cannot obtain; growing milder and gentler amidst what tends to
exasperate and harden; and through inward /principle
converting the very incitements to evil into the occasions of a victorious virtue, - I see an explanation, and
a noble explanation, of the present state.  I see a good
produced, so transcendent in its nature as to justify
all the evil and suffering under which it grows up.  I
should think the formation of a few such minds worth
all the apparatus of the present world.  I should say,
that this earth, with its continents and oceans, its seasons and harvests, and its successive generations, was
a work worthy of God, even were it to accomplish no
other end than the training and manifestation of the
illustrious characters which are scattered through history. And when I consider, how small a portion of
human virtue is recorded by history, how superior in
dignity, as well as in number, are the unnoticed, un-'honored saints and heroes of domestic and humble life,
I see a. light thrown over the present state which more
than reconciles me to all its evils.
The views given in this discourse of the importance
of, moral power, manifested in great trials, may be employed to shed a glorious and perhaps a new light on
the character and cross of Christ.  But this topic can




SEL-DENIAL.                 133
now  be only suggested  to your- private meditation.
There is, however, one practical application  of our
subject, which may be made in a few words, and which
I cannot omit.  I wish to ask the young who hear me,
and especially of my own sex, to use the views now offered in judging and forming their characters.  Young
man, remember that the only test of goodness, virtue,
is moral strength, self-denying energy.  You have generous and honorable feelings, you scorn mean actions,
your heart beats quick at the sight or hearing of courageous, disinterested  deeds, and all these are interesting qualities; but, remember, they are the gifts of
nature, the endowments of your susceptible age.  They
are not virtue.  God and the inward monitor ask for
more.  The question is, Do you strive to confirm, into
permanent principles, the generous sensibilities of the
heart?  Are you watchful to suppress the impetuous
emotions, the resentments, the selfish passionateness,
which are warring against your honorable feelings? Especially do you subject to your moral and religious
convictions, the love of pleasure, the appetites, the
passions, which form the great trials of youthful virtue?
Here is the field of conflict to which youth is summoned.
Trust not to occasional impulses of benevolence, to
constitutional courage, frankness, kindness, if you surrender yourselves basely to the temptations of your age.
No man who has made any observation of life, but will
tell you how often he has seen the promise of youth
blasted; intellect, genius, honorable feeling, kind affection, overpowered and almost extinguished, through
the want of moral strength, through a tame yielding to
pleasure and the passions.  Place no trust in your good
propensities, unless these are fortified, and upheld, and
VOL. IV.               12




134                 SELF-DENIAL.
improved by moral energy and self-control. - To all of
us, in truth, the same lesson comes.  If any man will
be Christ's disciple, sincerely good, and worthy to be
named among the friends of virtue, if he will have inward peace and the consciousness of progress towards
Heaven, he must deny himself, he must take the cross,
and follow Christ in the renunciation of every gain and
pleasure inconsistent with the will of God.




THE
IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER
1 PETER ii. 21: " Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps."
T'HE example of Jesus is our topic.  To incite you to
follow it, is the aim of this discourse. Christ came to
give us a religion,- but this is not all. By a wise and
beautiful ordination of Providence, he was sent to show
forth his religion in himself.  He did not come to sit in
a hall of legislation, and from some commanding eminence to pronounce laws and promises. He is not a
mere channel through which certain communications
are made from God; not a mere messenger appointed
to utter the words which he had heard, and then to disappear,;and to sustain no further connexion with his
message. He came, not only to teach with his lips, but
to be a living manifestation of his religion, - to be, in
an important sense, the religion itself.
This is a peculiarity worthy of attention. Christianity
is not a mere code of laws, not an abstract system such
as theologians frame. It is a living, embodied religion.
It comes to us in a human form; it offers itself to our
eyes as well as ears; it breathes, it moves in our sight.
It is more than precept; it is example and action




136             THE IMITABLENESS OF
The importance of example, who does not understand?  How much do most of us suffer from the presence, conversation, spirit, of men of low  minds by
whom we are surrounded!  The temptation is strong,
to take as our standard, the average character of the
society in which we live, and to satisfy ourselves with
decencies and attainments which secure to us among the
multitude the name of respectable men.  On the other
hand, there is a power (have you not felt it?) in the
presence, conversation, and example of a man of strong
principle and magnanimity, to lift us, at least for the
moment, from our vulgar and tame habits of thought,
and to kindle some generous aspirations after the excellence which we were made to attain. I hardly need say
to you, that it is impossible to place ourselves under any
influence of this nature so quickening as the example of
Jesus.  This introduces us to the highest order of virtues.  This is fitted to awaken the whole mind.  Nothing has equal power to neutralize the coarse, selfish, and
sensual influences, amidst which we are plunged, to refine our conception of duty, and to reveal to us the perfection on which our hopes and most strenuous desires
should habitually fasten.
There is one cause, which has done much to defeat
this good influence of Christ's character and example,
and which ought to be exposed. It is this. Multitudes,
I am afraid great multitudes, think of Jesus as a being
to be admiyed, rather than approached.  They have
some vague conceptions of a glory in his nature and
character which makes it presumption to think of proposing him as their standard.  He is thrown so far from
them, that he does them little: good.  Many feel that a
close resemblance of Jesus Christ is not to be expected'




CHRIST'S CHARACTER.             137
that this, like many other topics, may serve for declamation in the pulpit, but is utterly incapable of being
reduced'to practice.  I think I am touching here an
error, which exerts a blighting influence on not a few
minds.  Until men think of the religion, and character
of Christ as truly applicable to them, as intended to be
brought into continual operation, as what they must incorporate with their whole spiritual nature, they will
derive little good from  Christ.  Men think indeed to
honor Jesus, when they place him  so high as to discourage all effort to approach him. They really degrade
him.  They do not understand his character; they
throw a glare over it, which hides its true features.
This vague admiration is the poorest tribute which they
can pay him.
The manner in which Jesus Christ is conceived and
spoken of by many, reminds me of what is often seen
in Catholic countries, where a superstitious priesthood
and people imagine that they honor the Virgin Mary
by loading her image with sparkling jewels and the
gaudiest attire.  A Protestant of an uncorrupted taste
is at first shocked, as if there was something like profanation in thus decking out, as for a theatre, the meek,
modest, gentle, pure, and tender inother of Jesus.  It
seems to me, that something of the same superstition is
seen in the indefinite epithets of admiration heaped upon
Jesus; and the effect is, that the mild and simple beauty
of his character is not seen.  Its sublimity, which had
nothing gaudy or dazzling, which was plain and unaffected, is not felt; and its suitableness as an example to
mankind, is discredited or denied.
I wish, in this discourse, to prevent the discouraging
influence of the greatness of Jesus Christ; to show. that,
12*




1 S8            THE IMITABLENESS O0
however exalted, he is not placed beyond the reach of
our sympathy and imitation.
I begin with the general observation, that real greatness of character, greatness of the highest order, far
from being repulsive and discouraging, is singularly accessible and imitable, and, instead of severing a being
from  others, fits him to be their friend and model.  A
man'who stands apart from his race, who has few points
of contact with other men, who has a style and manner
which strike awe, and keep others far from him, whatever rank he may hold in his own and others' eyes,
wants, after all, true grandeur of mind; and the spirit
of this remark, I think, may be extended beyond men
to higher orders of beings, to angels and to Jesus Christ.
A great soul is known by its enlarged, strong, and tender
sympathies.  True elevation of mind does not take a
being out of the circle of those who are below him, but
binds him faster to them, and gives them advantages for
a closer attachment and conformity to him.
Greatness of character is a communicable attribute;
I should say, singularly communicable.  It has nothing
exclusive in its nature.  It cannot be the monopoly of
an individual, for it is the enlarged and generous action
of faculties and affections which enter into and constitute all minds, I mean reason, conscience, and love, so
that its elements exist in all.  It is not a peculiar or exclusive knowledge, which can be shut up in one or a few
understandings; bhut the comprehension of great and
universal truths, which are the proper objects of every
rational being.  It is not a devotion to peculiar, exclusive objects, but the adoption of public interests, the
consecration of the mind to the cause of virtue and hap



UHRIST'S CHARACTER.             139
press in the creation, that is, to the very cause which
all intelligent beings are bound to espouse.  Greatness
is not a secret, solitary principle, working by itself and
refusing participation, but frank and open-hearted, so
large in its views, so liberal in its feelings, so expansive
in its purposes, so beneficent in its labors, as naturally
and necessarily to attract sympathy and cooperation.
It is selfishness that repels men; and true greatness has
not a stronger characteristic than its freedom from every
selfish taint.  So far from being imprisoned in private
interests, it covets nothing which it may not impart.  So
far from being absorbed in its own distinctions, it dish
cerns nothing so quickly and joyfully as the capacities
and pledges of greatness in others, and counts no labor
so noble as to call forth noble sentiments, and the consciousness of a divine power, in less improved minds.
I know that those who call themselves great on earth,
are apt to estrange themselves from their inferiors; and
the multitude, cast down by their high bearing, never
think of proposing them as examples. But this springs
wholly from the low conceptions of those whom we call
the great, and shows a mixture of vulgarity of mind with
their superior endowments. Genuine greatness is marked
by simplicity, unostentatiousness, self-forgetfulness, a
hearty interest in others, a feeling of brotherhood with
the human family, and a respect for every intellectual
and immortal being as capable of progress towards its
own elevation.  A superior mind, enlightened and kindled by just views of God and of the creation, regards
its gifts and powers as so many bonds of union with
other beings, as given it, not to nourish self-elation, but
to be employed for others, and still more to be commu.
nicated to others.  Such greatness has no reserve, and




140              THE ILAMITASLENESS OF'
especially no affected dignity of deportment.  It is toe
conscious of its ownl power, to need, and too benevolent to desire, to entrench itself behind forms and ceremonies; and when circumstances permit such a character to manifest itself to inferior beings, it is beyond all
others the most winning, and most fitted to impart itself,
or to call forth a kindred elevation of feeling.  I know
not in history an individual so easily comprehended as.esus Christ, for nothing is so intelligible as sincere, disinterested love.  I know not any being who is so fitted
to take hold on all orders of minds; and accordingly he
drew after him the unenlightened, the publican, and the
sinner.  It is a sad mistake, then, that Jesus Christ is
too great to allow us to think of intimacy with him, and
to think of making him our standard.
Let me confirm  this truth by another order of reflections. You tell me, my hearers, that Jesus Christ is so
high that he cannot be your model; I grant the exaltation of his character.  I believe him to be a more than
human being.  In truth, all Christians so believe him.
Those who suppose him not to have existed before, his
birth, do not regard him as a mere man, though so reproached.  They always separate him by broad distinctions from other men.  They consider him  as enjoying
a commUnion with God,. and as having received bifts,
endowments, aid, lights from  himn, granted to no other,
and as having exhibited a spotless purity, which is the
highest distinction of I-eaven.  All admit, and joyfully
admit, that Jesus ChIrist, by his greatness and goodness,
throws all other human attainments into obscurity.  But
on this account he is not less a standard, nor is he to
discourage us, but on the contrary to breathe into us a




CHRIST'S CHARACTER.             141
more exhilaratingl hope; for though so far above us,
he is still one of us, and is only an illustration of the
capacities which we all possess.  This is a great truth.
Let me strive to unfold it.  Perhaps I cannot better
express my views, than by saying, that I regard all
minds as of one family.  When we speak of higher orders of beings, of angels and archangels, we are apt to
conceive of distinct kinds or races of beings, separated
from  us and from  each other by impassable barriers.
But it is not so.  All minds are of one family.- There
is no such partition in the spiritual world as you see in
the material.  In material nature, you see wholly distinct classes of beings.  A mineral is not a vegetable'
and makes no approach to it; these two great kingdoms
of nature are divided by immeasurable spaces.  So,
when we look at different races of animals, though all
partake of that mysterious property, life, yet, what an
immense and impassable distance is there between the
insect and the lion.  They have no bond of union, no
possibility of communication.   During the lapse of ages,
the animalcules which sport in the sunbeams a summer's
day and then perish, have made no approximation to the
king of the forests.  But in the intellectual world there
are no such barriers.  All minds are essentially of one
origin, one nature, kindled from one divine flame, and
are all tending to one centre, one happiness. This great
truth, to us the greatest of truths, which lies at the foundation of all religion'and of all hope, seems to me not
only sustained by proofs which satisfy the reason, but to
be one of the deep instincts of our nature.  It mingles, unperceived, with all our worship of God, which
uniformly takes for granted that he is a Mind having
thought, affection, and volition like ourselves.  It runs




142              THE IMITABLENESS OF
through false religions; and whilst, by its perversionr
it has made them  false, it has also given to them whatever purifying power they possess.  But passing over
this instinct, which is felt more and more to be unerring
as the intellect is improved, this great truth of the unity
or likeness of all minds, seems to me demonstrable firom
this consideration, that Truth, the object and nutriment
of mind, is one and immutable, so that the whole family
of intelligent beings must hlave the same views, the sanle
motives, and the same general ends.  For example, a
truth of mathematics, is not a truth only in this world,
a truth to our minds, but a truth everywhere, a truth in
heaven, a truth to God, who has indeed framed his creation according to the laws of this universal science.
So, happiness and misery, which lie at the foundation
of morals, must be to all intelligent beings what they are,
to us, the objects, one of desire and hope, and the other
of aversion; and who can doubt that virtue and vice
are the -same everywhere as on earth, that in every
community of beings, the mind which devotes itself to
the general weal, must be more reverenced than a mind
which would subordinate the general interest to its own.
Thus all souls are one in nature, approach one another,
and have grounds and bonds of communion with one
another.  I am not only one of the human race; I am
one of the great intellectual family of God.  There is
no spirit so exalted, with which I have not comnmon
thoughts and feelings.  That conception which I have
gained, of One Universal Father, whose love is the
fountain and centre of all t}hings, is the dawn of the
highest and most magnificent views in the universe -
and if I look up to this being with filial love, I have the
spring and beginning of the noblest sentiments and joys




CHiRIST'S CHARACTER.            143
which are known in the universe.  No greatness, therefore, of a being, separates me from  him or makes him
unapproachable by me. The mind of Jesus Christ,
my hearer, and your mind are of one family; nor was
there any thing in his, of which you have not the principle, the capacity, the promise in yourself.  This is
the very impression which he intends to give.  He
never held himself up as an inimitable and unapproachable being; but directly the reverse.  He always spoke
of himself as having come to communicate himself to
others. He always invited men to believe on and adhere to him, that they might receive that very spirit, that
pure, celestial spirit, by which he was himself actuated.
"' Follow me," is his lesson. The relation which he came
to establish between himself and mankind, was not that
of master and slave, but that of friends.  He compares
himself, in a spirit of divine benevolence, to a vine,
which, you know, sends its own sap, that by which it is
itself nourished, into all its branches.  We read, too,
these remarkable words in his prayer for his disciples,
C "I have given to them  the glory thou gavest me;'
and I am persuaded that there is not a glory, a virtue,
a power, a joy, possessed by Jesus Christ, to which his
disciples will not successively rise.  In the spirit of
these remarks, the Apostles say, "1 Let the same mind
be in you which was also in Christ."
I have said, that all minds being of one family, the
greatness of the mind of Christ is no discouragement to
our-adoption of him as our model. I now observe, that
there is one attribute of mind to which I have alluded,
that should particularly animate us to propose to ourselves a sublime standard, as sublime as.Jesus Christ.
I refer to the principle of growth in human nature. We




1 44             THE IISTABLENE1SS OF
were made to grow.  Our faculties are germs, and given
for an expansion, to which nothing authorizes us to set
bounds.  The soul bears the impress of:illimitableness,
in the thirst, the unquenchable thirst, which it brings
with it into being, for a power, knowledge, happiness,
which it never gains, and which always carry it forward
into futurity.  The body soon reaches its limit.  But
intellect, affection, moral energy, in proportion:to -.their
growth, tend to further enlargement, and every acquisition is an impulse to something higher.  When I consider this principle or capacity of the human soul, I
cannot restrain the hope which it awakens.  The partition-walls which imagination has reared between men
and higher orders' of beings vanish.  I no longer see
aught to prevent our becoming whatever was good and
great in Jesus on earth.: In truth, I feel my utter inability to conceive what a mind is to attain which is to
advance for ever.  Add but that element, eternity, to
man's progress, and the results of his existence surpass,
not only human, but angelic thought.  Give me this,
and the future glory of the human mind becomes to me
as incomprehensible as God himself.  To encourage
these thoughts and hopes, our Creator has set before us
delightful exemplifications, even now, of this principle
of growth both in outward nature and in the human
mind. We meet them in nature. Suppose you were
to carry a man, wholly unacquainted with vegetation, to
the most majestic tree in our forests; and, whilst he was
admiring its extent and proportions, suppose you should
take from the earth at its root a little downy substance,
which a breath might blow away, and say to him, That
tree was once such a seed as this; it was wrapped up
here; it once lived, only within these delicate fibres, this




CHRIST'S CHARACTER.             145
narrow compass.  With what incredulous wonder would
he regard you! And if by an effort of imagination,
somewhat Oriental, we should suppose this little seed
to be suddenly endued with thought, and to be told that
it was one day to become this mighty tree, and to cast
out branches which would spread an equal shade, and
wave with equal grace, and withstand the winter winds;
with what amazement may we suppose it to anticipate
its future lot!  Such growth we witness in nature.  A
nobler hope we Christians are to cherish; and still more
striking examples of the growth of mind are set before
is in human history.  BWe wonder indeed when we are
told, that one day we shall be as the angels of God.  I
apprehend that as great a wonder has been realized already on the earth.  I apprehend that the distance between the mind of Newton and of a Hottentot may
have been as great as between Newton and an angel.
There is another view still more striking.  This Newton, who lifted his calm, sublime eye to the heavens,
and read among the planets and the stars, the great law
of the material universe, was, forty or fifty years before,
an infant, without one clear perception, and unable. to
distinguish his nurse's arm from the pillow on which he
slept.  Howard, too, who, under the strength of an allsacrificing benevolence, explored the depths of human
suffering, was, forty or fifty years before, an infant
wholly absorbed in himself, grasping at all he saw. and
almost breaking his little heart with fits of passion, when
the idlest toy was withheld.  Has not man already
traversed as wide a space as separates him firom angels?
And why must he stop?  There is no extravagance in
the boldest anticipation.  We may truly become one
with Christ, a partaker of that celestial mind.  He IS
VOL. IV.              1 3




146              THE IMITABLENESS OF
truly our brother, one of our family.  Let us make himrn
our constant model.
I know not that the doctrine now laid down, is liable
but to one abuse.  It may unduly excite susceptible
minds, and impel to a vehemence of hope and exertion
unfavorable in the end to the very progress which is proposed.  To such I would say, Hasten to conform yourselves to Christ, but hasten according to the laws of your
nature.  As the body cannot by the concentration of its
whole strength into one bound, scale the height of a
mountain, neither can the mind free every obstacle and
achieve perfection by an agony of the will.  Great efibfrt
is indeed necessary; but such as can be sustained, such
as fits us for greater, such as will accumulate, not exhaust, our spiritual force.  The soul may be overstrained
as truly as the body, and it often is so in seasons of extraordinary religious excitement; and the consequence
is, an injury to the constitution of the intellect and the
heart, which a life may not be able to repair.  I rest the
hopes for human nature, which I have now expressed,
on its principle of growth; and growth, as you well
know, is a gradual process, not a convulsive start, accomplishing the work of years in a moment.  All great
attainments are gradual.  As easily might a science be
mastered by one struggle of thought, as sin be conquered
by a spasm  of remorse.  Continuous, patient effort,
guided by wise deliberation, is the true means of spiritual progress.. In religion, as in common life, mere force
of vehemence will prove a fallacious substitute for the
sobriety of wisdom.
The doctrine which I have chiefly labored to maintain'n this discourse, that minds are all of one family, are all




CHRIST'S CHARACTER.              147
brethren, and may be more and more nearly united to
God, seems to me to have been felt peculiarly by Jesus
Christ; and if I were to point out the distinction of his
greatness, I should say it lay in this.  He felt his superiority, but he never felt as'if it separated him from mankind.  He did not come among us as some great men
would visit a colliery, or any other resort of the ignorant
and corrupt, with an air of greatness, feeling himself
above us, and giving benefits as if' it were an infinite condescension.  He came and mingled with us as a firiend
and a brother.  He saw in every human being a mind
which might wear his own brightest glory.  He was severe only towards one class of men, and they were those
who looked down on the multitude with contempt.  Jesus respected human nature; he felt it to be his own.
This was the greatness of Jesus Christ.  He felt, as no
other felt, a union of mind with the human race, felt that
all had a spark of that same intellectual and immortal
flame which dwelt in himself.
I insist on this view of his character, not only to encourage us to aspire after a likeness to Jesus; I consider
it as peculiarly fitted to call forth love towards him.  If
I regard Jesus as an august stranger, belonging to an entirely different class of existence from myself, having no
common thoughts or feelings with me, and looking down
upon me with only such a sympathy as I have with an
inferior animal, I should regard him  with a. vague awe;
but the immeasurable space between us would place him
beyond friendship and affection.  But when I feel, that
all minds form  one family, that I have the same nature
with Jesus, and that lie came to communicate to me, by
his teaching, example, and intercession, his own mind, to




148              THE IMITABLENESS OF
bring me into communion with what was sublimest, purest, happiest in himself, then I can love him as I love no
other being, excepting only Him who is the Father alike
of Christ and of the Christian.  With these views, I
feel that, though ascended t~o Heaven, lhe is not gone
beyond the reach of our hearts; that lie has now the
same interest in mankind as when he entered their dweilings, sat at their tables, washed their feet; and that
there is no being so approachable, none with whom such
unreserved intercourse is to be enjoyed in the future
world.
Believing, as I do, that I have now used no inflated
language, but have spoken the words of truth and soberness, I exhort you with calmness, but earnestness, to
choose and adopt Jesus Christ as your example, with
the. whole energy of your wills.  I exhort you to resolve
on following him, not, as perhaps you have done, with a
faint and yielding purpose, but with the full conviction,
that your whole happiness is concentrated in the force
and constancy of your adherence to this celestial guide.
My friends, there is no other happiness.  Let not tne
false views of Christianity which prevail in the world,
seduce you into the belief, that Christ can bless you in
any other way than by assimilating you to Iris own virtue,
than by breathing into you his own mind.  Do not imagine that any faith or love towards Jesus can avail you,
but that which quickens you to conform yourselves to his
spotless purity and unconquerable rectitude.  Settle it
as an immovable truth, that.neither in this world nor in
the next can you be happy, but in proportion to the
sanctity and elevation of your characters.  Let no nan
imagine, that through the patronage or protection of Je



CHRIST'S CHARACTER.              149
Sels Christ, or any other being, he can find peace or any
sincere good, but in the growth of an enlightened, firm,
disinterested, holy mind.  Expect no good from Jesus,
any farther than you clothe yourselves with excellence.
He can impart to you nothing so precious as himself, as
his own mind; and believe me, my hearers, this mind may
dwell in you.  His sublimest virtues may be yours.
Admit, welcome this great truth.  Look up to the illustrious Son of God, with the conviction that you may become one with hlim  in thought, in feeling, in power, in
holiness.  His character will become a blessing, just as
far as it shall awaken in you this consciousness, this hope.
The most lamentable skepticism  on earth, and incomparably the most common, is a skepticism  as to the
greatness, powers, and high destinies of human nature.
In this greatness I desire to cherish an unwavering faith.
Tell me not of the universal corruption of the race.
Humanity has already, in not a few  instances, borne
conspicuously the likeness of Christ and God.  The
sun grows dim, the grandeur of outward nature shrinks,
when compared with the spiritual energy of men, who,
in the cause of truth, of God, of charity, have spurned
all bribes of ease, pleasure, renown, and have withstood
shame, want,;persecution, torture, and the most dreaded
forms of death.  In such men I learn that the soul was
made in God's image, and made to conform itself to the
loveliness and greatness of his Son.
Mly Friends, we may all approach Jesus Christ.  For
all of us he (lied, to leave us an example that we should
follow his steps.  By earnest purpose, by self-conflict,
by watching and prayer, by faith in the Christian promrn
ises, by those heavenly aids and illuminations, which he
1 3




150    THE IMITABLENESS OF CHRIST'S CHARACTER.
that seeketh shall find, we may all unite ourselves, in
living bonds, to Christ, may love as he loved, may act
friom his principles, may suffer with his constancy, may
enter into his purposes, may sympathize with his selfdevotion to the cause of God and mankind, and, by liked
ness of spirit, may prepare ourselves to meet him as our
everlasting friend.




THE EVIL OF SIN.
PROVER3S xiv. 9: " Fools make a mock at sin."
MY aim  in this discourse is simple, and may be ex
pressed in a few  words.  I wish to guard you against
thinking lightly of sin.  No folly is so monstrous, and
yet our exposure to it is great.  Breathing an atnosphere tainted with moral evil, seeing and hearing sin
in our daily walks, we are in no small danger of overlooking its malignity.   This malignity I would set
before you with all plainness, believing that the eflbrt
which is needed to resist this enemy of our peace, is to
be called forth by fixing on it our frequent and serious
attention.
I feel as if a'difficulty lay at the very threshold of
this discussion, which it is worth our while to remove.
The word Sin, I apprehend, is to many obscure, or
not sufficiently plain.  It is a word seldom used in common life.  It belongs to theology and the pulpit.  By
not a few people, sin is supposed to be a property of our
nature, born with us; and we' sometimes hear of the child
as being sinful before it can have performed any action
From  these and other causes, the word gives to many
confused notions.  Sin, in its true sense, is the viola



152                 Tie EVIL OF SIN.
tion of duty, and cannot, consequently, exist, before
conscience has begun to act, and before power to obey
it is unfolded.  rTo sin is to resist our sense of right,
to Pppose known obligation, to cherish feelings, or
commit deeds, which we know to be wrong.  It is, to
withhold from  God the reverence, gratitude, and obedience, which our own consciences pronouince to be due
to that great and good Being.   It is, to transgress
those laws of equity, justice, candor, humanity, disinterestedness, which we all feel to belong and to and
swer to our various social relations.  It is, to yield ourselves to those appetites which we know to be the
inferior principles of our nature, to give the body a
mastery over the mind, to sacrifice the intellect and
heart to the senses, to surrender ourselves to ease and
indulgence, or to prefer outward accumulation and power to strength and peace of conscience, to progress towards perfection.  Such is sin.  It is voluntary wrongdoing.  Any gratification injurious to ourselves, is sin.
Any act injurious to our neighbours, is sin.  Indifference to our Creator, is sin.  The transgression of any
command which this excellent Being and rightful Sovereign has given us, whether by conscience or revelation,
is sin.  So broad is this term.  It is as extensive as
duty.  It is not some mysterious thing wrought into our
souls at birth.  It is not a theological subtilty.  It is
choosing and acting in opposition to our sense of right,
to known obligation.
Now, according to the Scriptures, there is nothing
so evil, so deformed, so ruinous as sin.  All pain, poverty, contempt, affliction, ill success, are light, and
not to be named with it.  To do wrong is more pernicious than to incur all the calamities which nature or




TIE EVIL OF SIN.               153
human malice can heap upon us.  According to the
Scriptures, I am  not to fear those who would kill this
body, and have nothing more that they can do.  Such
enemies are impotent, compared with that sin which
draws down the displeasure of God, and draws after it
misery and death to the soul.  According to the Scriptures, I am  to pluck out even a right eye, or cut off
even a right arm, which would ensnare or seduce me
into crime.  The loss of the most important limbs and
organs, is nothing compared to the loss of innocence.
Such you know is the whole strain of Scripture.  Sin,
violated duty, the evil of the heart, this is the only evil
of which Scripture takes account.  It was from  this
that Christ carne to r'deem us.  It is to purify us from
this stain, to set us free from this yoke, that a new and
supernatural agency was added to God's other means
of promoting huran happiness.
It is the design of these representations of Scripture,
to lead us to connect with sin or wrong-doing the ideas
of evil, wretchedness, and debasement, more strongly
than with any thing else; and this deep, deliberate conviction of the wrong and evil done to ourselves by sin,
is not simply a command of Christianity.  It is not an
arbitrary, positive precept, which rests solely on the
word of the lawgiver, and of which no account can
be given but that he wills it.  It is alike the dictate
of natural and revealed religion, an injunction of conscience and reason, founded in our very souls, and confirmed by constant experience.  To regard sin, wrongdoing, as the greatest of evils, is God's command, proclaimed from  within and without, from  Heaven and
earth; and he who does not hear it, has not learned
the truth on which his whole happiness rests.: This I
propose to illustrate.




1554               THE EVIL OF SIN.
1. If we look within, we find in our very nature a
testimony to the doctrine, that sin is the chief of evils,
a testimony which, however slighted or smothered, will
be recognised, I think, by every one who hears me.
To understand this truth better, it may be usefil to
inquire into and compare the different kinds of evil.
EIvil has various forms, but these may all be reduced
to two great divisions, called by philosophers natural
and moral.  By the first, is meant the pain or suffering
which springs firom  outward condition and events, or
from  causes independent of the will.  The latter, that
is, moral evil, belongs to character and conduct, and
is commonly expressed by the words sin, vice, transgression of the rule of right.  NOow I say, that there
is no man, unless he be singularly hardened and an
exception to his race, who, if these two classes or divisions of evil should be clearly and fully presented him
in moments of calm  and deliberate thinking, would not
feel, through the very constitution of his mind, that
sin or vice is worse and more to be dreaded than pain.
I am willing to take from  among you, the individual
who has studied least the great questions of morality
and religion, whose mind has grown up with least discipline. If I place before such a hearer two examples
in strong contrast, one of a man gaining great property
by an atrocious crime, and another exposing himself
to great suffering through a resolute purpose of duty,
will he not tell me at once, from a deep moral sentiment, which leaves not a doubt on his mind, that the
last has chosen the better part, that he is more to be
envied than the first?  On these great questions, What
is the chief good? and What the chief evil? we are
instructed by our own nature.  An inward voice has




THIE EVIL OF SIN.             1 55
told men, even in heathen countries, that excellence of
character is the supreme good, and that baseness of soul
and of action involves something worse than suffering.
W\Ve have all of us, at some periods of lif'e had the
same conviction; and these have been the periods when
the mind has been healthiest, clearest, least perturbed by
passion. Is there any one here who does not feel, that
what the divine faculty of conscience enjoins as right,
has stronger claims upon him than what is recommended
as merely agreeable or advantageous; that duty is some.
thing more sacred than interest or pleasure; that virtue
is a good of a higher order than gratification; that crime
is something worse than outward loss?  What means
the admiration with which we follow the conscientious
and disinterested man, and which grows strong in proportion to his sacrifices to duty? Is it not the testimony
of our whole souls to the truth and greatness of the
good he has chosen? What means the feeling of abhorrence, which we cannot repress if we would, towards
him who, by abusing confidence, trampling on weakness,
or hardening himself against the appeals of mercy, has
grown rich or great?  Do we think that such a man has
made a good bargain in bartering principle for wealth?
Is prosperous fortune a balance for vice?  In our deliberate moments, is there not a voice which pronounces
his craft folly, and his success misery?
And, to come nearer home, what conviction is it,
which springs up most spontaneously in our more reflecting moments, when we look back without passion on our
own lives?  Can vice stanlvd that calm look?. Is there
a single wrong act, which we would not then rejoice to
expunge firom the unalterable records of our de-ds? Do
we ever congratulate ourselves on having despised the




156              rTHE EVIL OF SIN.
inward monitor, or revolted against God? To what
portions of our history do we return most joyfully? Are
they those in which we gained the world and lost the soul,
in which temptation mastered our principles, which levity and sloth made a blank, or which a selfish and unprincipled activity made worse than a blank, in our existence? or are they those in which we suffered, but
were true to conscience, in which we denied ourselves
for duty, and sacrificed success through unwavering
rectitude?  In these moments of calm recollection, do
not the very transgressions at which perhaps we once
mocked, and which promised unmixed joy, recur to
awaken shame and remorse? And do not shame and
remorse involve a consciousness that we have sunk beneath our proper good? that our highest nature, what
constitutes our true self, has been sacrificed to low interests and pursuits?  I make these appeals confidently.
I think my questions can receive but one answer. Now,
these convictions and emotions, with which we witness
moral evil in others, or recollect it in ourselves, these
feelings towards guilt, which mere pain and suffering
never excite, and which manifest themselves with more
or less distinctness in all nations and all stages of society,
these inward attestations that sin, wrong-doing, is a peculiar evil, for which no outward good can give adequate
compensation, surely these deserve to be regarded as
the voice of nature, the voice of God.  They are accompanied with a peculiar consciousness of truth. They
are felt to be our ornament and defence.  Thus our na.
ture teaches the doctrine of Christianity, that sin, or
moral evil, ought of all evils to inspire most abhorrence
and fear.
Our first argument has been drawn from  Sentiments




THE EVIL OF SIN.                157
from deep and almost instinctive feeling, from the handwriting of the Creator on the soul.  Our next, may be
drawn from experience.  We have said, that even when
sin or wrong-doing is prosperous, and duty brings suffering, we feel that the suffering is a less evil than sin. I
now add, in the second place, that sin, though it sometimes prospers, and never meets its full retribution on
earth, yet, on the whole, produces more present suiffieing
than all things else; so that experience warns us against
sin or wrong-doing as the chief evil we can incur.
Whence come the sorest diseases and acutest bodily
pains?  Come they not from  the lusts warring in our
members, from criminal excess?  What chiefly generates poverty and its worst sufferings?  Is it not to evils
of character, to the want of self-denying virtue, that we
must ascribe chiefly the evils of our outward condition?
The pages of history, how is it that they are so dark
and sad?  Is it not, that they are stained with crime?
If we penetrate into private life, what spreads most
misery through our homes?  Is it sickness, or selfishness? Is it want of outward comforts, or want of inward discipline, of the spirit of love? What more do
we need to: bring -back Eden's happiness, than -iEden's
sinlessness? How light a burden would be life's necessary ills, were they not aided by the crushing weight of
our own and others' faults and crimes? How fast would
human woe vanish, were human selfishness, sensuality,
injustice, pride, impiety, to yield to the pure and benign'influences of Christian truth?  How many of us know,
that the sharpest pains we have ever suffered, have been'the wounds of pride, the paroxysms of passion, the
stings of remorse; and where this is not the case, who
of us, if he were to know his own soul, would not see,
voT. TV.               14




5&8               THE EVIL OF SIN.
that the daily restlessness of life, the wearing uneasiness
of the mind, which, as a whole, brings more suffering
than acute pains, is altogether the result of undisciplined
passions, of neglect or disobedience of God?  Our discontents and anxieties have their origin in moral evil.
The lines of suffering on almost every human countenance have been deepened, if not traced there, by unfaithfiulness to conscience, by departures firom duty. To
do wrong is the surest way to bring sufiering; no wrong
deed ever failed to bring it.  Those sins which are followed by no palpable pain, are yet terribly avenged even
in this life.  T'hey abridge our capacity of happiness,
impair our relish for innocent pleasure, and increase our
sensibility to suffering.  They spoil us of the armnour of
a pure conscience, and of trust in God, without which
we are naked amidst hosts of foes, and are vulnerable
by all the changes of life.  Thus, to do wrong is to inflict the' surest injury on our own peace.  No enemy
can do us equal harm with what we do ourselves, whenever or however we violate any moral or religious obli.gation.
I have time but for one more view of moral evil or
sin, showing that it is truly the greatest evil.  It is this.
The miseries of disobedience to conscience and God
are not exhausted in this life.  Sin deserves, calls for,
and  will bring  down Future, greater misery.   This
Christianity teaches, and this nature teaches.  Retribution is not a new doctrine brought by Christ into the
world.  Though darkened and corrupted, it was spread
everywhere before lie came.  It carried alarm to rude
nations, which nothing on earth could terrify.  It mixed
with all the false religions of antiquity, and it finds a re,,




THE EVIL OF SIN.                1.59
sponse now in every mind not perverted by sophistry.
That we shall carry with us into the future world our
present minds, and that a character, formed in opposition to our highest faculties and to the will of God, will
produce suffering in our future being, these are truths,
in which revelation, reason, and conscience remarkably
conspire~
I know, indeed, that this doctrine is sometimes questaoned.  It is maintainzed by some among us, that punishment is confined to the present state; that in changing worlds we shall change our characters; that moral
evil is to be buried with the body in the grave.  As this
opinion spreads indulstriously, and as it tends to diminish
the dread of sin, it deserves some notice.  To my
mind, a more irrational doctrine was never broached.
In the first place, it contradicts all our experience of the
nature and laws of the mind.  Tihere is nothing more
striking in the mind, than the connexion of its successive states.  Our present knowledge9 thoughts, feelings,
characters, are the results of former impressions, passions, and pursuits.   We are ihis mornent what the past
has made us; and to suppose, that at death the influences of our whole past course are to cease on our
minds, and that a character is to spring up altogether at
war with what has preceded it, is to suppose the most
important law or principle of the mind to be violated, is
to destroy all analogy between the present and fiuture,
and to substitute for experience the wildest dreams of
fancy.  In truth, such a sudden revolution in the character, as is here supposed, seems to dlestroy a man's
identity.  The individual thus transformed, can hardly
seem  to himself or to others the same being.  It is
equivalent to the creation of a new soul.




160                THE EVIL OF SIN.
Let me next ask, what fact can be adduced in proof
or illustration of the power ascribed to death, of changing and purifying the mind? What is death? It is the
dissolution of certain limbs and organs by which the
soul now acts.  But these, however closely connected
with the mind, are entirely distinct from its powers, frtom
thought and will, firom conscience and affection.  Why
should the last grow pure firom  the dissolution of the
first?'Why shall the mind put on a new character, by.
laying aside the gross instruments tlhrough which it now
operates?  At death, the hands, the feet, the eye, and
the ear' perish/  But they often perish during life; and
does character change with them?  It is true that our
animal appetites are weakened and sometimes destroyed
by the decay of the bodily organs on which they depend.  But our deeper principles of action, and the
moral complexion of the mind, are not therefore reversed.  It often happens, that the sensualist, broken
down by disease, which excess has induced, comes to,
loathe the luxuries to which he was once enslaved; but
do his selfishness, his low habits of thought, his insensibility to God, d6cline and perish with his animal desires? Lop off the- criminal's hands; does the disposition to do mischief vanish with them?  When the feet
mortify, do we see a corresponding mortification of the
will to go astray?  The loss of sight or hearing is a
partial death; but is a single vice plucked from the mind,
or one of its strong passions palsied, by this destruction:
of its chief corporeal instruments?
Again; the idea that by dying, or changing worlds, a
man may be made better or virtuous, shows an ignoranceof the nature of moral goodness or virtue.  This.belongs to free beings; it supposes moral liberty.. A mar




N'rE EVIL OF SIN.
cannot be made virtuous, as an instrument maybe put
in tune, by a foreign hand, by an outward force.  Virtue is that to which the man himself contributes.  It is
the fruit of exertion.  It supposes conquest of temptation.  It cannot be given from  abroad to one who
Las wasted life, or steeped himiiself in criime.  To suppose moral goodness breathed from  abroad into the
guilty mind, just as health may be imparted to a sick
body, is to overlook the distinction between corporeal
and intellectual natures, and to degrade a free being
into a machine.
I will only add, that to suppose no, connexion to
exist between the present and the future character, is
to take away the use of the present state.  Why are we
placed in a state of discipline, exposed to temptation,
encompassed with suffering, if, without discipline, and
by a sovereign act of omnipotence, we are all of us,
be ourt present characters what they may, soon and
suddenly to be made perfect in virtue, and perfect in
happiness?
Let us not listen for a moment to- a doctrine so irrational, as that our present characters do not follow
us into a future world.  If we are to live again, let
us settle it as a sure fact, that we shall carry with us
our present minds, such as we now make then; that
we shall reap good or ill according to their improvement or corruption; and, of consequence, that every act,
which afffects character, will reach in its influence beyond the grave, and have a bearing on our future weal
or woe.  We are now framing our future lot.  He who
does a bad deed says, more strongly than words can
utter,'"I cast away a portion of future  good, I resolve
on future pain."
14*




l 62                TirE EVIL OP SIN'
I proceed now to an important and solemn remark,
in illustration of the evil of sien.  It is plainly implied'
in Scripture, that we shall suffer much more from  sin,
evil tempers, irreligion, in the future world, than we
suffer here.  This is one main distinction between the
two states.  In the present world, sin does indeed bring
witl it many pains, but not full, or exact retribution,
and sometimes it seems crowned with prosperity; and
the cause of this. is obvious.  The present world is a
state for the formation; of character.  It is meant to
be a state of trial, where we are to act freely, to have
opportunities of wrong as well as right actions, and to,
become virtuous amidst temptation.  Now such a purpose- requires- that sin., or wrong-doing, should not
regularly and inlfallibly produce its full and. immediate
punishment.  For, suppose', my hearers, that, at the
very instant of a bad purpose or a bad deed, a sore
and awful penalty were tmfailingly to light upon you;
would this be. consistent with trial? would you have
moral freedom? would you not live under compulsion?
Who would do wrong, if judgment were to come like
lightning after every evil deed?  In such a world, fear
would suspend our liberty and- supersede conscience.
Accordingly sin, though, as we have seen, it produces
great misery, is still left to compass mnany of its objects,
often to prosper, often to be gain.  Vice, bad as it is,
has often many pleasures in its train.  The worst men
partake, equally with the good, the light of the sun,
the rain, the harvest, the accommodations and improvements of civilized life, and sometimes accu-mulate more
largely outward goods.  And thus sin has its pleasures,
and:escapes many of its natural and: proper fruits.  We
live in a world where, if we please, we may forget our



TrLE EVIL OF SIN.              1603
selves, may delude ourselves, may intoxicate our minds
with false hopes, and may find for a time a deceitful
joy in an evil course.  In this respect the future will
differ' from  the present world.  After death, character
will produce its full effect.  According to the Scriptures, the color of our future existence will be wholly
determined by the habits and principles which we carry
into- it.  The circumstances which in this life prevent
vice, sin, wrong-doing, from inflicting pain, will not
operate hereafter.  There the evil mind will be exposed
to its own terrible agency, and nothing, nothing will
interfere between the transgressor and his own awakened conscience.  I ask you to pause, and weigh this
distinction between the present and future.  In the
present life, -we have, as I have said, the means of escaping, amusing, and forgetting ourselves.  Once, in
the course of every daily revolution of the sun, we
all of us find refuge, and many a long refuge, in sleep;
and he who has lived without God, and in violation of
his duty, bears not, for hours, a whisper of the monitor
within.  But sleep is a function of our present animal
franie, and let not the transgressor anticipate this boon
in the world of retribution before him.  It may be, and
he has reason to fear, that in that state repose will not
weigh down his eyelids, that conscience will not slumber
there, that night and day the same reproaching voice
is to cry within, that unrepented sin will fasten with
unrelaxing grasp on the ever-waking soul.  What an
immense change in. condition would the removal of this
single alleviation of suffering produce?
Again; in the present state, how many pleasant sights,
scenes, voices, motions, draw us fiom  ourselves; and
he who has done wrong, how' easily may he forget it,




1 64               THE EVIL OF SIN,
perhaps mock at it, under the bright light of this sun,
on this fair earth, at the table of luxury, and amidst
cheerful associates.  In the state of retribution, he who
has abused the present state, will find no such means
of escaping the wages of sin.  The precise mode in
which such a man is to exist hereafter, I know  not.
But I know, that it will offer nothing to amuse him,
to dissipate thought, to turn him  away from  himself;
nothing to which he can fly for refuge from the inward
penalties of transgression.
Inthe present life, I have said, the outward creation,
by its interesting objects, draws the evil man from himself._ It seems to me probable, that, in the future, the
whole creation will, through sin, be turned into a source
of suffering, and will perpetually throw back the evil
mind on its own transgressions. I can briefly state the
reflections which lead to *this anticipation.  The Scriptures strongly imply, if not positively teach, that in the
future life we shall exist in connexion with some material firame; and the doctrine is sustained by reason;
for it can hardly be thought, that in a creation which
is marked by gradual change and progress, we should
make at once the mighty transition from  our present
state into a purely spiritual or unembodied existence.
Now  in the present state we find, that the mind has
an immense power over the body, and, when diseased,
often communicates disease to its sympathizing com-panion.  I believe, that, in the future state, the mind
will have this power of conforming its outward frame
to itself, incomparably more than here. We must never
forget, that in that world mind or character is to exert
an all-powerful sway; and accordingly, it is rational to
brelieve, that the corrupt and deformed mind, which




THE EVIL OF SIN.               165
wants moral goodness, or a spirit of concord with God
and with the universe, will create for itself, as its fit
dwelling, a deformed body, which will also want concord or harmony with all things around it.  Suppose
this to exist, and the whole creation which now amuses,
may become an instrument of suffering, fixing the soul
with a more harrowing consciousness on itself.  You
know that even now, in consequence of certain derangements of the nervous system, the beautiful light gives
acute pain, and sounds, which once delighted us, become
shrill and distressing.  How often this excessive irritableness of the body has its origin in moral disorders,
perhaps few of us suspect.  I apprehend, indeed, that
we should be all amazed, were we to learn to what extent the body is continually incapacitated for enjoyment,
and made susceptible of suffering, by sins of the heart
and life.  That delicate part of our organization, on
which sensibility, pain, and pleasure depend, is, I believe, peculiarly alive to the touch of moral evil.  How
easily, then, may the mind hereafter frame the future
body according to itself, so that, in proportion to its
vice, it will receive, through its organs and senses, Impressions of gloom, which it will feel to be the natural
productions of its own depravity, and which will in this
way give a terrible energy to conscience!  For myself,
I see no need of a local hell for the sinner after death.
When I reflect, how, in the present world, a guilty
mind has power to deform  the countenance, to undermine health, to poison pleasure, to darken the fairest
scenes of nature, to turn prosperity into a curse, I can
easily understand how, in the world to come2 sin, working without obstruction according to its own nature,.
should spread the gloom of a dungeon over the whole




166                THE EVIL OF SIN
creation, and wherever it goes, should turn the universe
into a hell.
In these remarks I presume not to be the prophet of
the future world.  I only wish you to feel how terribly
sin is hereafter to -work its own misery, and how false
anti dangerous it is to argue from your present power
of escaping its consequences, that you may escape them
in the life to come.  Let each of us be assured, that by
abusing this world, we shall not earn a better.  The
Scriptures announce a state of more exact and rigorous
retribution than the present.  Let this truth sink into
our hearts.  It shows us, what I have aimed to establish, that to do wrong is to incur the greatest of calamities, that sin is the chief of evils. BMay I not say, that
nothing else deserves the name? No other evil will follow us beyond the grave. Poverty, disease, the world's
scorn, the pain of bereaved affection, these cease at the
grave.  The purified spirit lays down there every burden.  One and only one evil can be carried from  this
world to the next, and that is, the evil within us, moral
evil, guilt, crime, ungoverned  passion, the depraved
mind, the memory of a wasted or ill-spent life, the
character which has grown up under neglect of God's
voice in the soul and in his word.  This, this will go
with us, to stamp itself on our future frames, to darken
our future being, to separate us like an impassible gulf
from our Creator and from  pure and happy beings, to
be as a consuming fire and an undying worm.
I have spoken of the pains and penalties of moral
evil, or of wrong-doing, in the world to come.  How
long they will endure, I know not. Whether they will
issue in the reformation and happiness of the sufferer,
or will terminate in the extinction of his conscious




THE EVIL OF SIN.                167
being, is a question on which Scripture throws no clear
light.  Plausible arguments liay be adduced in support
of both these doctrines.  On this and on other points
revelation aimns not to give precise information, but to
fix in us a deep impression, that great suffering awaits
a disobedient, wasted, immoral, irreligious life.  To
fasten this impression, to make it a deliberate and practical conviction, is more needful than to ascertain the
mode or duration of future suffering.  MIay the views
this day given, lead us all to self-communion, and to
new energy, watchfulness, and prayer against our sins.
May they teach us, that to do wrong, to neglect or violate any known duty, is of all evils the most fearful.
Let every act, or feeling, or motive, which bears the
brand of guilt, seem to us more terrible than the worst
calamities of life.  Let us dread it more than the agonies of the most painful death.








IMMORTALITY.
2 rTIMOTHY i. 10: " Our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished
death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through
the Gospel."
IMMORTALITY is the glorious discovery of Christianity.
I say discovery, not because a future life was wholly
unknown before Christ, but because it was so revealed
by him as to become, to a considerable extent, a new
doctrine. Before Christ, immortality was a conjecture
or a vague hope.  Jesus, by his teaching and resurrection, has made it a certainty.  Again, before Christ, a
future life lent little aid to virtue.  It was seized upon
by the imagination and passions, and so perverted by
them  as often to minister to vice.  In Christianity this
doctrine is wholly turned to a moral use; and the Future is revealed only to give motives, resolution, force,
to self-conflict and to a holy life.
My aim in this discourse is, to strengthen, if I may,
your conviction of immortality; and I have thought
that I may do this by showing, that this great truth is
also a dictate of nature; that reason, though unable to
establish it, yet accords with and adopts it; that it is
written alike in God's word and in the soul. It is plain.
VOL. IV.               15




170                IMMORTALITY.
ly rational to expect, that, if man was made for irnmortality, the marks of this destination will be found in his
very constitution, and that these marks will grow stronger in proportion to the unfolding of his faculties.  I
would show, that this expectation proves just, that the
teaching of revelation, in regard to a future life, finds a
strong response in our own naturet;.
This topic is the more important, because to some
men there seem to be appearances in nature unfavorable to immortality.  To many, the constant operation
of decay in all the works of creation, the dissolution of
all the forms of animal and vegetable nature, gives.a
feeling, as if destruction were the law to which we and
all beings are subjected.
It has often been said by the skeptic, that the races
or classes of being are alone perpetual, that all the
individuals which compose them are doomed to perish.
Now I affirm, that the more we know of the MIind, the
more we see reason to distinguish it from  the animal
and vegetable races which grow and decay around us;
and that in its very nature we see reason for exempting
it from the Universal law of destruction. To this point,
I now ask your attention.
When we look round us on the earth, we do indeed
see every thing changing, decaying, passing away; and
so inclined are we to reason from analogy or resemblance, that it is not wonderful that the dissolution of
all the organized forms of matter should seem to us to
announce our own destruction.  But we overlook the
distinctions between matter and nlind; and these are so
Immense as to justify the directly opposite conclusion
Let me point out some of these distinctions.




IMMORTALITY.                  171
1. When we look at the organized productions of nature, we see that they require only a limited' time and
most of them a very short time, to reach their perfection,
and accomplish their end.  Take, for example, that noble production, a tree.  Having reached a certain heiglit
and borne leaves, flowers, and fruit, it has nothing more
to do.  Its powers are fully developed; it has no hidden
capacities, of which its buds and fruit are only the beginnings and pledges.  Its design is fulfilled; the principle of life within it can effect no more.  Not so the
mind.  We can never say of this, as of the full-grown
tree in autumn, It has answered its end, it has done its
work, its capacity is exhausted.  On the contrary, the
nature, powers, desires, and purposes of the mind are
all undefined.  We never feel, when a great intellect has
risen to an original thought, or a vast discovery, that it
has now accomplished its whole purpose, reached its
bound, and can yield no other or higher fruits.  On the
contrary, our conviction of its resources is enlarged; we
discern more of its affinity to the inexhaustible intelligence of its Author.  In every step of its progress, we
see a new impulse gained and the pledge of nobler acquirements.  So, when a pure and resolute mind has
made some great sacrifice to truth and duty, has manifested its attachment to God and man in singular trials,
we do not feel as if the whole energy of virtuous principle were now put forth, as if the measure of excellence
were filled, as if the maturest fruits were now borne, and
henceforth the soul could only repeat itself.  We feel,
on the contrary, that virtue by illustrious efforts replenishes instead of wasting its life; that the mind by perseverence in well-doing, instead of sinking into a mechanical tameness, is able to conceive of higher duties, is




172                  IMMORTALITY.
armed for a nobler daring, and grows more efficient in
charity.  The mind, by going forward, does not reach
insurirmoutable prison-walls, but learns more and more
the boundlessness of its powers, and of the range for
which it was created.
Let me place this topic in another light, which may
slhow, even more strongly, the contrast of the mind with
the noblest productions of matter.  My meaning may
best be conveyed by reverting to the tree.  We consider
the tree as having answered its highest purpose, when it
yields a particular fruit.  We judge of its perfection by
a fixed, positive, definite product.  The mind, however,
in proportion to its improvement, becomes conscious
that its perfection consists not in fixed, prescribed effects,
not in exact and defined attainments, but in an original,
creative, unconfinable energy, which yields new products,
which carries it into new fields of thought and new efforts for religion and humanity.  This truth indeed is so
obvious, that even the least improved may discern it.
You all feel, that the most perfect mind is not that which
works in a prescribed way, which thinks and acts according to prescribed rules, but that which has a spring
of action in itself, which combines anew the knowledge
received from other minds, which explores its hidden
and multiplied relations, and gives it forth in fresh and
higher forms.  The perfection of the tree, then, lies in
a precise or definite product.  That of the mind lies in
an indefinite and boundless energy.  The first implies
limits.  To set limits to the mind, would destroy that
original power in which its perfection consists.  Here,
then, we observe a distinction between material forms
and the mind; and from the destruction of the first,
which, as we see, attain perfection and fulfil their pur



tVlNmORTALITY.              17 3
pose in a limited duration, we cannot argue to the destruction of the last, which plainly possesses the capacity
of a progress without end.
2. We have pointed out one contrast between the
mind and material forms.  The latter, we have seen, by
their nature have bounds.  The tree in a short time, and'by rising and spreading a short distance, accomplishes its
end.  I now add, that the system of nature to which the
tree belongs, requires that it should stop where it does.
Were it to grow for ever, it would be an infinite mischief.
A single plant, endued with the principle of unlimited
expansion, would in the progress of centuries overshadow
nations and exclude every other growth, would exhaust
the earth's whole fertility.  lMaterial forms, then, must
have narrow bounds, and their usefulness requires that
their life and growth should often be arrested even before
reaching the limits prescribed by nature.  But the indefinite expansion of the mind, instead of warring with and
counteracting the system of creation, harmonizes with and
perfects it.  One tree, should it grow for ever, would
sxclude other forms of vegetable life.  One mind, in
proportion to its expansion, awakens and in a sense
creates other minds.  It multiplies, instead of exhausts
ing, the nutriment which other understandings need.  A
mind, the more it has of intellectual and moral life, the
more it spreads life and power around it.  It is an everenlarging source of thought and love.  Let me here add,
that the mind, by unlimited growth, not only yields a
greater amount of good to other beings, but it produces
continually new forms of good.  This is an important
distinction.  Were the tree to spread inldefinitely, it
would abound more in fruit, but in fruit of the same
15*




174                 IMMORTALITY.
kind; and, by excluding every other growth, it would
destroy the variety of products, which now contribute
to health and enjoyment.  But the mind, in its progress,
is perpetually yielding new fruits, new forms of thought
and virtue and sanctity.  It always contains within itself
the germs of higher influences than it has ever put forth,
the buds of fiuits which it has never borne.  Thus the
very reason which requires the limitation of material
forms, I mean the good of the whole system, seems to
require the unlimited growth of mind.
3. Another distinction between material forms and the
mind is, that to the former destruction is no loss.  They
exist for others wholly, in no degree for themselves;
and others only call sorrow for their fall.  The mind, on
the contrary, has a deep interest in its own existence.
In this respect, indeed, it is distinguished firom the animal
as well as the vegetable.  To the animal, the past is a
blank, and so is the future.  The present is every thing.
But to the mind the present is comparatively nothing.
Its great sources of happiness are memory and hope.
It has power over the past, not only the power of recalling it, but of turning to good all its experience, its errors
and sufferings as well as its successes.  It has power
over the future, not only the power of anticipating it, but
of bringing the present to bear upon it, and of sowing
for it the seeds of a golden harvest.  To a mind capable
of thus connecting itself with all duration, of spreading
itself through times past and to come, existence becomes
infinitely dear, and, what is most worthy of observation,
its interest in its own being increases with its progress in
power and virtue.  An improved mind understands the
greatness of its own nature, and the worth of existence,




iMMORTALITY.                 175
as these cannot be understood by the unimproved.  The
thought of its own destruction suggests to it an extent of
ruin, which the latter cannot comprehend.  The thought
of such faculties as reason, conscience, and moral will,
being extinguished, -of powers, akin to the divine energy, being annihilated by their Author, — of truth and
virtue, those images of God, being blotted out, —of
progress towards perfection, being broken off almost at
its beginning, - this is a thought fitted to overwhelm  a
mind, in which the consciousness of its own spiritual nature is in a good degree unfolded.  In other words, the
more the mind is true to itself and to God, the more it
clings to existence, the more it shrinks from extinction
as an infinite loss.  Would not its destruction, then, be
a very different thing from  the destruction of material
beings, and does the latter furnish an analogy or presumption in support of the former?  To me, the undoubted
fact, that the mind thirsts for continued being, just in
proportion as it obeys the will of its Maker, is a proof,
next to irresistible, of its being destined by him for immortality.
4. Let me add one more distinction between the mind
and material forms.  I return to the tree.  We speak of
the tree as destroyed.  We say that destruction is the
order of nature, and some say that man must not hope to
escape the universal law. Nowv we deceive ourselves in
this use of words.  There is in reality no destruction in
the material world.  True, the tree is resolved into its
elements.  But its elements survive, and, still more,
they survive to fulfil the same end which they before accomplished.  Not a power of nature is lost.  The particles of the decayed tree are only left at liberty to form




I 76                IMMOkWALITVl'
new, perhaps more beautiful and useful'combinationrs
They may shoot up into more luxuriant foliage, or enter
into the structure of the highest animals.  But were
mind to perish, there would be absolute, irretrievable
destruction; for mind, from its nature, is something individual, an uncompounded essence, which cannot be
broken into parts, and enter into union with other minds.
1 am myself, and can become no other being.  My experience, my history, cannot become my neighbour's.
Iy consciousness,.my memory, my interest in my past
life, my affections, cannot be transferred.  If in any irnstance I have withstood temptation, and through such
resistance have acquired power over myself and a claim
to the approbation of my fellow-beings, this resistance,
this power, this claimn are my own; I cannot make them
another's.  I can give away my property, my limbs 
but that which makes myself, in other words, my consciousness, my recollections, my feelings, my hopes,
these can never become parts of another mind.  In the
extinction of a thinking, moral being, who has gained
truth and virtue, there would be an absolute destruction.
This event would not be as the setting of the sun, which
is a transfer of light to new regions; but a quenching of
the light.  It would be a ruin such as nature nowhere
exhibits, a ruin of what is infinitely more precious thanthe outward universe, and is not, therefore, to be inferred
fiom any of the changes of the material world.
I am  aware, that views of this nature, intended to
show us that immortality is impressed on the soul itself,
fail to produce conviction from various causes.  There
are not a few, who are so accustomed to look on the
errors and crimes of society, that human nature seenms
to them little raised above the brutal; and they hear,




IMMORTALITY.                 177
with a secret incredulity, of those distinctions and capacities of the mind which point to its perpetual existence.
To such men, I might say, that it is a vicious propensity which leads them to fasten continually and exclusively
on the sins of human nature; just as it is criminal to fix
the thoughts perpetually on the miseries of human life,
and to see nothing but evil in the order of creation and
the providence of God.  But, passing over this, I allow
that human nature abounds in crime.  But this does not
destroy my conviction of its greatness and immortality.
I say, that I see in crime itself the proofs of human
greatness and of an immortal nature.  The position
may seem extravagant, but it may be fully sustained.
1 ask you first to consider, what is implied in crime.
Consider in what it originates.  It has its origin in the
noblest principle that can belong to any being; I mean,
in moral freedom.  There can be no crime without liberty of action, without moral power.  We'e man a
machine,, were he a mere creature of sensation and impulse, like the brute, he could do no wrong.  It is only
because he has the faculties of reason and conscience,
and a power over himself, that he is capable of contracting guilt.  Thus great guilt is itself a testimony to the
high endowments of the soul.
In the next place, let me ask you to consider, whence
it is that man sins.  He sins by being exposed to temptation.   Now the great design of temptation plainly is,
that the soul, by withstanding it, should gain strength,
should make progress, should become a proper object
of divine reward.  That is, man sins through an exposure which is designed to carry him forward to perfection, so that the cause of his guilt points to a continued
and improved existence.




1 78                DIiMORTALITY.
In the next place, I say, that guilt has a pecular coni
sciousness belonging to it, which speaks strongly of a fu.
ture life. It carries with it intimations of retribution.  Its
natural associate is fear.  The connexion of misery with
crime is anticipated by a kind of moral in-stinct; and the
very circumstance, that the unprincipled man sometimes
escapes present suffering, suggests more strongly a future
state, where this apparent injustice will be redressed,
and where present prosperity swill become an aggravation
of woe.  Guilt sometimes speaks of a future state even
in loudel and more solemn tones than virtue.  It has
been known to overwhellm the spirit with terrible forebodings, and has found thlrough its presentiments the
hell which it feared.  rT'hus guilt does not destroy, but
corroborates, the ptroofs contained in the soul itself of
its own future being.
Let me add one more thought.  The sins, which
abound in the world, and which are so often adduced to
chill our belief in the capacities and vast prospects of
human nature, serve to place in stronger relief, and in
brighter light, the examples of piety and virtue, which
all must acknowledge, are to be found among the guilty
multitude.  A  mind which, in such a world, amidst so
many corrupting influences, holds fast to truth, duty, and
God, is a nobler mind than any which could be formed
in the absence of such temptation.  Thus the great sinfulness of the world makes the virtue which exists in -it
more glorious; and the very struggles which the good
man has to maintain with its allurements and persecutions,
prepare him for a brighter reward.  To me sluchl views
are singularly interesting and encouraging.  I delight to,
behold the testimony which sin itself furnishes to man's
greatness and immortality.  I indeed see great guilt on




iMORLrTALrTY.                 7 9
earth; but I see it giving occasion to great moral
strength, and to singular devotion and virtue in the good,
and thus throwing on hunman nature a lustre which more
than compensates for its own deformity.  I do not shut
my eyes on the guilt of my race.  I see, in history,
human malignity, so aggravated, so unrelenting, as even
to pursue with torture, and to doom to the most agonizing death, the best of human beings. But when I see
these beings unmoved by torture; meek, and calm, and
forgiving in their agonies; superior to death, and never
so glorious as in the last hour, -I forget the guilt which
persecutes thenm, in my admiration of their virtue.  In
their sublime constancy, I see a testimony to the worth
and immortality of human nature, that outweighs the
wickedness of which they seem to be the victims; and
I feel an assurance, which nothing can wrest from me,
that the godlike virtue, which has thus been driven from
earth, will find a home, an everlasting home, in its native
heaven.  Thus sin itself becomes a witness to the future
life of man.
I have thus, my hearers, endeavoured to show, that
our nature, the more it is inquired into, discovers more
clearly the impress of immortality.  I do not mean, that
this evidence supersedes all other.  From its very nature it call only be understood thoroughly by improved
and purified minds.  The proof of immortality, which is
suited to all understandings, is found in the Gospel,
sealed by the blood and confirmed by the resurrection
of Christ.  But this, I think, is made more impressive,
by a demonstration of its harmony with the teachings
of nature.  To me, nature and revelation speak with
one voice on the great theme of man's fiuture being.
Let not their joint witness be unheard.




It 80               IMMORTALITY.
How full, how bright, are the evidences of this grand
truth.  How weak are the common arguments, which
skepticism  arrays against it.  To me there is but one
objection against immortality, if objection it may be
called, and this arises from the very greatness of the
truth.  My mind sometimes sinks under its weight, is
lost in its immensity; I scarcely dare believe that such
a good is placed within my reach.  When I think of
myself, as existing through all future ages, as surviving
this earth and that sky, as exempted fiom every imperfection and error of my present being, as clothed with
an angel's glory, as comprehending with my intellect and
embracing in my affections an extent of creation compared with which the earth is a point; when I think of
myself, as looking on the outward universe with an organ of vision that will reveal to me a beauty and harmony and order not now imagined, and as having an access
to the minds of the wise and good, which will make
them in a sense my own; when I think of myself, as
forming friendships with innumerable beings of rich and
various intellect and of the noblest virtue, as introduced
to the society of heaven, as meeting there the great and
excellent, of whom I have read in history, as joined
with CC the just made perfect " in an ever-enlarging ministry of benevolence, as conversing with Jesus Christ
with the familiarity of friendship, and especially as having an immediate intercourse with God, such as the
closest intimacies of earth dimly shadow forth; — when
this thought of my future being comes to me, whilst I
hope, I also fear; the blessedness seems too great; the
consciousness of present weakness and unworthiness is
almost too strong for hope.  But when, in this frame of
mind. I look round on the creation, and see there the




iMMORTALITY.                181
marks of an omnipotent goodness, to which nothing is
impossible, and from which every thing may be hoped;
when I see around me the proofs of an Infinite Father,
who must desire the perpetual progress of his intellectual offspring; when I look next at the human mind, and
see what powers a few years have unfolded, and discern
in it the capacity of everlasting improvement; and es —
pecially when I look at Jesus, the conqueror of death,
the heir of immortality, who has gone as the forerunner
of mankind into the mansions of light and purity, I can
and do admit the almost overpowering thought of the'everlasting life, groivth, felicity of the human soul.
To each of us, my friends, is this felicity offered; a
good which turns to darkness and worthlessness the
splendor and excellence of the nlost favored lot on earth.
T say, it is offered. It cannot be forced on us; from its
nature, it must be won.  Immortal happiness is nothing
mnore than the unfolding of our own minds, the full,
bright exercise of our best powers; and these powers
are never to be unfolded here or hereafter, but through
our own free exertion. To anticipate a higher existence
whilst we neglect our own souls, is a delusion on which
reason frowns no less than revelation.  Dreamn not of a
heaven into which you may enter, live here as you may.
To such as waste the present state, the future will not,
cannot, bring happiness.  There is no concord between
them  and that world of purity.  A  hurman being, who
has lived without God, and without self-improvement,
can no more enjoy Heaven, than a mouldering body,
lifted from  the tomb, and placed amidst beautiful prospects, can enjoy the lig:' through its decayed eyes, or
feel the balmy air which blows away its dust. My hearers, immortality is a glorious doctrine; but not given us
voL. TV.              16




182                IMMORTALITY.
i'or speculation or amusement.  Its happiness is to be
realized only through our own struggles with ourselves,
only through our own reaching forward to new virtue
and piety.  To be joined with Christ in Heaven, we
must be joined with him now in spirit, in the conquest
of temptation, in charity and well-doing.  Immortality
should begin here. The seed is now to be sown, which
is to expand for ever.  " Be not weary then in welldoing; for in due time we shall reap, if we faint not.'




LOVE TO CHRIST.
EIHIESIANs vi. 24: "' Grace be with all them that love our Lord
Jesus Christ in sincerity."
I PRorosE in this discourse, to speak of Love to Christ,
and especially of the foundations on which it rests.  I
will not detain you by remarks on the importance of
the subject.  I trust, that you feel it, and that no urgency is needed to secure your serious attention.
Love to Christ is said, and said with propriety, to
be a duty, not of Natural, but of Revealed religion.
Other precepts of Christianity are dictates of nature
as well as of revelation.  They result from the original
and permanent relations which we bear to our Creator
and our fellow-creatures; and are written by God on
the mind, as well as in the Bible.  For example, gratitude towards the Author of our being, and justice and
benevolence towards men, are inculcated with more or
less distinctness by our moral faculties; they are parts
of the inward law which belongs to a rational mind; and
accordingly, wherever men are found, you firid some
conviction of these duties, some sense of their obligation to a higher power and to one another.  But the
same is not true of the duty of love to Jesus Christ;
for as the knowledge of him  is not communicated by




184                ELOVE TO" CHRI'ST
nature, as his name is not written, like that of God,
on the heavens and earth, but is confined to countries
where his Gospel is preached, it is plain that no senseof obligation to him  can be felt beyond these bounds..
No regard is due or can be paid to him beyond these.
It is. commonly said, therefore, that love to Christ is a
duty of revealed., not natural religion, an.d this language
is correct; but let it not mislead us.  Let us not iniagine% that attachment to Jesus is a'n arbitrary duty, that
it is unlike our other duties, that it is separate firom'
common virtue, or that it is not founded, like all virtues, in our constitution, or net recognised and enforced
by natural conscience.  We say, that nature does not
enjoin this regard to the Saviour, simply because it
does not make him known; but, as soon as he is made
known, nature enjoins love and veneration towards him
as truly as towards God or towards excellent men.,
Reason and conscience teach us to regard him with a
strong and tender interest.  Love to him is not an arbitrary precept.  It is not unlike our other affections;
it requires for its culture no peculiar influences from
heaven; it stands on the same ground with all our duties; it is to be strengthened by the same means.  It
is essentially the same sentiment, feeling, or p rinciple,
which we put forth toward's other excellent beings,
whether in heaven or on earth.
I make these remarks, because I apprehend that the
duty of loving Jesus Christ has been so urged, as to,
seem: to many particularly mysterious and obscure; and
the consequence has been, that by some it has beeni
neglected as unnatural, unreasonable, and unconnected
with commoh life; whilst others, in seeking to cherish
it, have rushed. into  wild,, extravagant, and feverish.




LOVE To CHRIST.               l85
emotions.  I would rescue, if I can, this duty from
neglect on the one hand, and from abuse on the other;
and to do this, nothing is necessary, but to show the
true ground and nature of love to Christ.  You will
then see, not only that it is an exalted and generous
sentiment, but that it blends with, and gives support
to, all the virtuous principles of the mind, and to all
the duties, even the most common, of active life.
There is another great good, which may result from
a just explanation of the love due to Christ.  You will
see, that this sentiment has no dependence, at least
no necessary dependence, on the opinions we may form
about his place, or rank, in the universe.  This topic
has convulsed the church for ages.   Christians have
cast away the spirit, in settling the precise dignity, of
their Master.  That this question is unirnportant, I do
not say.  That some views are more favorable to love
towards him than others, I believe; but I maintain that
all opinions, adopted by different sects, include the foundation, on which veneration and attachment are due to
our common  Lord.  This truth, for I hold it to be a
plain truth, is so fitted to heal the wounds and allay tile
uncharitable fervors of Christ's divided church, that I
shall rejoice, if I[ can set it forth to others as clearly
as it rises to my own mind.
To accomplish the ends now expressed, I am led to
propose to you one great but simple question.  What is
it that constitutes Christ's claim to love and respect"?
What is it that is to be loved in Christ?  Why are we
to hold him dear? I answer, There is but one ground
for virtuous affection,- in the" universe, but one object
worthy of cherished and enduring love in heaven or on
earths, and that is, Moral Goodness.  I make no excep16 *'




186                 LOVE TO' CHRIST.
tions.  My principle applies to all beings, to the Coread
tor as well as to his creatures.  The claim of God to
the love of his rational offspring rests on the rectitude
and benevolence of his- will.  It is the moral beauty and
grandeur of his character, to: which alone we are bound
to pay homage.  The only power, which can and ought
to be loved, is a beneficent and righteous power.  The
creation is glorious, and binds us to supreme and everlasting love to God, only because it sprung from  and
shows forth tais energy of goodness; nor has any being.
a claim  on love, any farther than  this same 6 energy
dwells- in hi-m), and is manifested in him-.  I know  no
exception to this principle. I can conceive of no being,
who can lave any clai-m to affection but what rests oin
his character, meaning by this the spirit and principles
which constitutei his mlind, and from which he acts; nor
do I know but one character which entitles a being to
our hearts, and it is that which the Scriptures express,
by the word Righteousness; which in man is often
called Virtue, in God, Holiness; which consists essentially in supreme reverence for and adoption of what is
right; and of which benevolence, or universal charity,.
is the brightest manifestation.
After these remarks, you will easily understand what
I esteem the ground of love to Christ.  It is his spotless purity, his moral perfection, his unrivalled goodness.  It is the spirit of hlis religion, which is the spirit
of God, dwelling in him without measure.  Of consequence to love Christ is to love the perfection of virtue,
of righteousness, of benevolence; and the great excellence of this love is, that, by cherishing it, we imbibe,
we strengthen in our own souls,. the most illustrious virtue, and through Jesus becomne like to God.




LOVE TO CIRIST.                187
From the view now given, you see that love to Jesus
Christ is a perfectly natural sentiment; I mean, one
which our natural sense of right enjoins and approves,
and which our minds are constituted to feel and to cherish, as truly as any affection to the good whom we know
on earth.  It is not a theological, mysterious feelings
which some supernatural and inexplicable agency must
generate within us.  It has its foundation or root in the
very frame of our minds, in that'sense of right by which
we are enabled to' discern, and bound to love, perfection.
I observe next, that, according to this view, it is, as.
have said, an exalted and generous affection; for it
brings us into communion and contact with the sublimest
character ever revealed among men.  It includes and
nourishes great thoughts and high aspirations, and gives
us here on earth- the benefit of intercourse with celestial
beings.
Do you not also see, that the love of Christ, according to the view now given of it, has no dependence on
any particular views which are formed of his nature by
different sects?  According to all sects, is he not perfect, spotless in virtue, the representative and resplendent
image of the moral goodness and rectitude of God?
However contending sects may be divided as to other
points, they all agree in the moral perfection of his character.  All recognise his most glorious peculiarity, his
sublime and unsullied goodness. All therefore see in him
that which alone deserves love and veneration.
I am aware, that other views are not uncommon.  It
is said, that a true love to Christ requires just opinions
concerning him, and that they who form different opinions of him, however they may use the same name, do
not love the same being. We must knotw him, it Is said,




188                LOVE TO CHRIST.
in order to esteem him as we ought. Be it so. To
love Christ we must know  hirnm.  But what must we
know respecting him?  lMust we know his countenance
and form, must we know the manner in which he existed
before his birth, or the manner in which he now exists?
3Must we know his precise rank in the universe, his precise power and influence?  On all these points, indeed,
just views would be gratifying and auxiliary to virtue.
But love to Christ may exist, and grow strong without
them.  What we need to this end, is the knowledge of
his mind, his virtues, his principles of action.  No matter how profoundly we speculate about Christ, or how
profusely we heap upon him  epithets of praise and admiration; if we do not understand the distinguishing
virtues of his character, and see and feel their grandeur,
we are as ignorant of' him as if wre had never heard his
name, nor can we offer him an acceptable love.  I desire indeed to know Christ's rank in the universe; but
rank is nothing, except as it proves and manifests superior virtue.  High station only degrades a being who fills
it unworthily.  It is the mind which gives dignity to the
office,.not the office to the mind.  All glory is of the
soul.  Accordingly we know little or nothing of another
until we look into his soul.  T cannot be said to know a
being of a singularly great character, because I have
learned firom what region he came, to what family he belongs, or what rank he sustains.  I can only know him
as far as I discern the greatness of his spirit, the unconquerable strength of his benevolence, his loyalty to God
and duty, his power to act and suffer in a good and
righteous cause, and his intimate communion with God.
Who knows Christ best?  I answer, It is he who, in
reading his history, sees and feels most distinctly and




LOVE TO CHRIST.              189
deeply the perfection by which he was distinguished.
Who knows Jesus best? It is he, who, not resting in
general and almost unmeaning praises, becomes acquainted with what was peculiar, characteristic, and individual
in his mind, and who has thus framed to himself, not a
dim image called Jesus, but a living being, with distinct
and glorious features, and with all the reality of a wellknown friend. Who best knows Jesus? I answer, It
is he, who deliberately feels and knows, that his character is of a higher order than all other characters which
have appeared on earth, and who thirsts to commune
with and resemble it.  I hope I am plain.  When 1
hear, as I do, men disputing about Jesus, and imagining
that they know him by settling some theory as to his
generation in time or eternity, or as to his rank in the
scale of being, I feel that their knowledge of him' is
about as great as I should have of some saint or hero, by
studying his genealogy.  These controversies have built
up a technical theology, but give no insight into the mind
and heart of Jesus; and without this the true knowledge
of him cannot be enjoyed.  And here I would observe,
not in the spirit of reproach, but from a desire to do
good, that I know not a more effectual method of hiding
Jesus from us, of keeping us strangers to him, than the
inculcation of the doctrine which makes him the same
being with his Father, makes him God himself.  This
doctrine throws over him a mistiness. For myself, when
I attempt to bring it home, I have not a real being before me, not a soul which I can understand and sympathize with, but a vague, shifting image, which gives nothing of the stability of knowledge.  A being, consisting
of two natures, two souls, one Divine and another human, one finite and another infinite, is madegip of quali




190                LOVE TO CHRIST.
ties which destroy one another, and leave nothing for distinct apprehension.  This compound of different minds,
and of contradictory attributes, I cannot, if I would, regard as one conscious person, one intelligent agent.  It
strikes me almost irresistibly as a fiction.  On the other
hand, Jesus, contemplated as he is set before us in the
Gospel, as one mind, one heart, answering to my own in
all its essential powers and affections, but purified, enlarged, exalted, so as to constitute him the unsullied image of God and a perfect model, is a being who bears
the marks of reality, whom I call understand, whom I
can receive into my heart as the best of friends, with
whom I can become intimate, and whose society I can
and do anticipate among the chief blessings of my future
being.
liMy friends, I have now  stated, in general, what
knowledge of Christ is most important, and is alone required in order to a true attachment to him.  Let me
still farther illustrate my views, by descending to one or
two particulars. Among the various excellences of Jesus, he was distinguished by a benevolence so deep, so
invincible, that injury and outrage had no power over it.
His kindness towards men was in no degree diminished
by their wrong-doing.  The only intercession which he
offered in his sufferings, was for those who at that very
moment were wreaking on him their vengeance; and,
what is more remarkable, he not only prayed for them,
but with an unexampled generosity and candor, urged in
their behalf the only extenuation which their conduct
would admit.  Now, to know Jesuls Christ, is to understand this attribute of his mind, to understand the strength
and triumph of the benevolent principle in this severest
trial, to understand the energy with which he then held




LOVE TO CHRIST.               191
fast the virtue which he had enjoined. It is to see in
the mind of Jesus at that moment a moral grandeur which
raised him above all around him.  This is to know him.
I will suppose now a man to have studied all the controversies about Christ's nature, and to have arrived at the
truest notions of his rank in the universe.  But this incident in Christ's history, this discovery of his character,
has never impressed him; the glory of a philanthropy
which embraces one's enemies, has never dawned upon
him.  With all his right opinions about the Unity, or the
Trinity, he lives, and acts towards others, very much as
if Jesus had never lived or died. Now I say, that such
a man does not know Christ.  I say, that he is a stranger to him.  I say, that the great truth- is hidden firom
him; that his skill in religious controversy is of little
more use to him than would be the learning by rote of a
language which he does not understand.  He knows the
name of Christ, but the excellence which that name imports, and which gives it its chief worth, is to him as an
unknown tongue.
I have refekred to one view of Christ's character.  I
might go through his whole life.  I will only observe,
that in the New Testament, the crucifixion of Jesus is
always set forth as the most illustrious portion of his history. The spirit of self-sacrifice, of deliberate selfimmolation, of calm, patient endurance of the death of
the cross, in the cause of truth, piety, virtue, human
happiness, - this particular manifestation of love is always urged upon us in the New Testament, as the
crowning glory of Jesus Christ.  To understand this
part of his character; to understand him when he gave
himself up to the shame and anguish of crucifixion; to
understand that sympathy with human misery, that love




192                LOVE TO CHRIST.
of humnan nature, that thirst for the recovery of the
human soul, that zeal for human virtue, that energy of
moral principle, that devotion to God's purposes, through
which the severest suffering was chosen and borne, and
into which no suffering, or scorn, or desertion, or ingratitude, could infuse the least degree of selfishness, unkindness, doubt, or infirmity, - to understand this, is to understand Jesus; and he who wants sensibility to this, be
his speculations what they may, has every thing to learn
respecting the Saviour.
You will see, from the views now given, that I consider love to Christ as requiring nothing so much, as that
we fix our thoughts on the excellence of his character,
study it, penetrate our minds with what was peculiar in
it, and cherish profound veneration for it; and consequently I fear, that attachment to him has been diminished by the habit of regarding other things in Christ as
more important than his lovely and sublime virtues.
Christians have been prone to fix on something mysterious in his nature, or else on the dignity of his offices,
as his chief claim; and in this way his supreme glory
has been obscured.  His nature and offices I, of course,
would not disparage; but let them not be exalted above
his MNoral Worth.  I maintain that this gives to his nature and offices all their claims to love and veneration,
and that we understand them only as far as we see this
to pervade them. This principle I would uphold against
Christians of very different modes of faith.
First, there are Christians who maintain that Jesus
Christ is to be loved as the Son of God, understanding
by this title some mysterious connexion and identity with
the Father. Far be it from nme to deny, that the Divine
Sonship of Jesus constitutes his true claim on our affec



LOVE TO CHRIST.               193
tion; but I do deny, that the mysterious properties of
this relation form any part of this claim; for it is very
clear that love to a being must rest on what we know
of him, and not on unknown and unintelligible attributes.
In saying that the Divine Sonship of Jesus is the great
foundation of attachment to him, I say nothing inconsistent with the doctrine of this discourse, that the moral
-excellence of Jesus is the great. object and ground of
the love which is due to him,  Indeed, I only repeat
the principle, that he is to be loved exclusively for the
virtues of his character; for what, I ask, is the great
idea involved in his filial relation to God? To be the
Son of God, in the chief and highest sense of that
term, is to bear the likeness, to possess the spirit, to be
partaker of the moral perfections of God.  This is the
essential idea.  To be God's Son is to be united with
him by consent and accordance of mind. Jesus was
the only begotten Son, because he was the perfect image
and representative of God, especially of divine philanthropy; because he espoused as his own the benevolent
purposes of God towards the human race, and yielded
himself to their accomplishment with an entire selfsacrifice.  To know Jesus as the Son of God, is not
to understand what theologians have written about his
eternal generation, or about a mystical, incomprehensible
union between Christ and his Father.  It is something
far higher and more instructive.  It is to see in Christ,
if I may say so, the lineaments of the Universal Father.
It is to discern in him a godlike purity and goodness.
It is to understand his harmony with the Divine Mind,
and the entireness and singleness of love with which he
devoted himself to the purposes of God, and the in-:terests of the human race.  Of consequence, to love
VOL. IV.              17




194                LOVE TO CHRIST.
Jesus as the Son of God, is to love the spotless purity
and godlike charity of his soul.
There are other Christians who differ widely from,
those of whom I have now spoken, but who conceive
that Christ's Offices, Inspiration, Miracles, are his chief
claims to veneration, and who, I fear, in extolling these,
have overlooked what is incomparably more glorious,
the moral dignity of his mind, the purity and inexhaustibleness of his benevolence.  It is possible, that to
many who hear me, Christ seems to have been more
exalted when he received firom  his Father supernatural
light and truth, or when with superhuman energy he
quelled the storm and raised the dead, than when he
wept over the city which was in a few days to doom
him to the mnost shameful and agonizing death; and yet,
his chief glory consisted in the spirit through which
these tears were shed.  Christians have yet to learn that
inspiration, and miracles, and outward dignities, are nothing compared with the soul.  We all need to understand
better than we have done, that noble passage of Paul,
" Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and understand all mysteries, and have all faith, so
that I could remove mountains, and have not charity
[disinterestedness, love], I am nothing;" and this is as
true of Christ as of Paul.  Indeed it is true of all
beings, and yet, I fear, it is not felt as it should be by
the rultitude of Christians.
You tell me, my fiiends, that Christ's unparalleled
inspiration, his perpetual reception of light fiom God,
that this was his supreme distinction; and a great distinction undoubtedly it was: but I affirm, that Christ7s
Ispiration, though conferred on him  without measure,
gives him no claim to veneration or love, any farther




LOVE TO CHRIST.              195
than -it found within him a virtue, which accorded with,
welcomed, and adopted it; any farther than his own
heart responded to the truths he received; any farther
than he sy mpathized with, and espoused as his own, the
benevolent purposes of God, which he was sent to announce; any farther than the spirit of the religion which
he preached was his own spirit, and was breathed from
his life as well as from his lips.  In other wordcs, his
inspiration was made glorious through his virtues. Mere
inspiration seems to me a very secondary thing.  Suppose the greatest truths in the universe to be revealed
supernaturally to a being who should take no interest in
them, who should not see and feel their greatness, but
should repeat them mechanically, as they were put into
his mouth by the Deity. Such a man would be inspired, and would teach the greatest verities, and yet
he would be nothing, and would have no claim to reverence.
The excellence of Jesus did not consist in his mere
inspiration, but in the virtue and love which prepared
-him to receive it, and by which it was made effectual
to the world. He did not passively hear, and mechanically repeat, certain doctrines from God, but his whole
soul accorded with what he heard. Every truth which
he uttered came warm and living from his own mind;
and it was this pouring of his own soul into his instructions, which gave them much of their power.  Whence
came the authority and energy, the conscious dignity,
the tenderness and sympathy, with which Jesus taught?
They came not from inspiration, but from the mind of
him who was inspired. His personal virtues gave power
to his teachings; and without these no inspiration could




1 96               LOVE TO CHRIST.
have made him the source of such light and strength as
he now communicates to mankind.
My friends, I have aimed to show in this discourse,
that the virtue, purity, rectitude of Jesus Christ, is his
most honorable distinction, and constitutes his great
claim to veneration and love.  I can direct you to nothing in Christ, more important that his tried, and victorious, and perfect goodness.  Others may love Christ for
mysterious attributes; I love him for the rectitude of
his soul and his life.  I love him for that benevolence,
which went through Judea, instructing the ignorant,
healing the sick, giving sight to the blind.  I love him
for that universal charity, which comprehended the despised publican, the hated Samaritan, the benighted
heathen, and sought to bring a world to God and to
happiness.  I love him for that gentle, mild, forbearing
spirit, which no insult, outrage, injury could overpower;
and which desired as earnestly the repentance and happiness of its foes, as the happiness of its friends.  I
love him for the spirit of magnanimity, constancy, and
fearless rectitude, with which, amidst peril and opposition, he devoted himself to the work which God gave
him to do.  I love him  for the wise and enlightened
zeal with which he espoused the true, the spiritual interests of mankind, and through which he lived and died
to redeem them from every sin, to frame them after his
own godlike virtue. I love him, I have said, for his
moral excellence; I know nothing else to love. I know
nothing so glorious in the Creator or his creatures.
This is the greatest gift which God bestows, the great.
est to be derived from his Son.




LOVE TO CHRIST.               197
You see why I call you to-cherish the love of Christ.
This love I do not recommend as a luxury of feeling,
as an ecstasy bringing immediate and overflowing joy.
I view it in a nobler light.  I call you to love Jesus,
that you may bring yourselves into contact and conimmunion with perfect virtue, and may become what you
love.  I know no sincere, enduring good but the moral
excellence which  shines forth in Jesus Christ.  Your
wealth, your outward comforts and distinctions, are
poor, mean, contemptible, compared with this; and to
prefer them to this is self-debasement, self-destruction.
May this great truth penetrate our souls; and may we
bear witness in our common lives, and especially in trial,
in sore temptation, that nothing is so dear to us as the
virtue of Christ.
17a








LOVE TO CHRIST.
EPHESIANS Vi. 24: " Grace be with all them that love our Lord
Jesus Christ in sincerity."
IN the preceding discourse, I considered the nature and
ground of love to Christ. The subject is far from being
exhausted.   I propose now, after a few remarks on the
importance and happiness of this attachment, to call
your attention to some errors in relation to it, which
prevail in the Christian world.
A virtuous attachment purifies the heart.  In loving
the excellent, we receive strength to follow them.  It
is happy for us when a pure affection springs up within
us, when friendship knits us with holy and generous
minds. It is happy for us when a being of noble sentiments and beneficent life enters our circle, becomes
an object of interest to us, and by affectionate intercourse takes a strong hold on our hearts. Not a few
can trace the purity and elevation of their minds, to
connexion with an individual who has won them by
the beauty of his character to the love and practice of
righteousness.  These views show us the service which
Jesus Christ has done to mankind, simply in offering
himself before them  as an object of attachment ant'd




200                LOVE TO' CIIR[ST.
affection.  In inspiring love, he is a benefactor.  A
mnan brought to see and feel the godlike virtues of
Jesus Christ, who understands his character and is
attracted and won by it, has gained, in this sentiment,
immense aid in his conflict with evil and in his pursuit
of perfection.  And he has not only gained aid, but
happiness; for a true love is in itself a noble enjoyment.
It is the proper delighlt of a rational and moral being,
leaving no bitterness or shame behind, not enervating
like tile world's pleasures, but giving energy and a lofty
consciousness to the mind.'Our nature was farnled for virtuous attachments.
How strong and interesting are the affections of domestic life, the conjugal, parental, filial ties. But the heart
is not confined to our homes, or even to this world.
There are more sacred attachments than these, in which
instinct has'no part, which have their origin in our
highest faculties, which. are less tumultuous and impassioned than the affections of nature, but more enduring,
more capable of growth, more peaceful, far happier,
and far nobler.  Such is love to Jesus Christ, the most
purifying, and the happiest attachment, next to the love
of our Creator, which we can form.  I wish to aid you
in cherishing this sentiment, and for this end I have
thought, that in the present discourse it would be well to
point out some wrong views, which I think have obstructed it, and obscured its glory.
I apprehend, that, among those Christians who bear
the name of Rational, fiom the importance which they
give to the exercise of reason in religion, love to Christ
has lost something of its honor, in consequence of its
perversion.  It has too often been substituted for practical religion.  Not a few have professed a very fervent




LOVE TO CHRIST.               201
attachment to Jesus, and have placed great confidence
in this feeling, who, at the same time, have seemed to
think little of his precepts, and have even spoken of
them as unimportant, compared with certain doctrines
about his person or nature.  Gross errors of this kind
have led, as it seems to me, to the opposite extreme.
They have particularly encouraged among calm  and
sober people the idea, that the great object of Christ
was to give a religion, to teach great and everlasting
truth, and that our concern is with his religion rather
than with himself.  The great question, as such people
say, is, not what Jesus was, but what he revealed.  In
this way a distinction has been made between Jesus and
his religion; and, whilst some sects have done little but
talk of Christ and his person, others have dwelt on the
principles he taught, to the neglect, in a measure, of
the Divine Teacher.  I consider this as an error, to
which some of us may be exposed, and which therefore
deserves -consideration.
Now, I grant, that Jesus Christ came to give a religion, to reveal truth.  This is his great office; but I
maintain, that this is no reason for overlooking Jesus;
for his religion has an intimate and peculiar connexion
with himself.  It derives authority and illustration from
his character. Jesus is his religion embodied, and made
visible.  The connexion between him  and his system is
peculiar.  It differs altogether from that which ancient
philosophers bore to their teachings.  An ancient sage
wrote a book, and the book is of equal value to us,
whether we know its author or not.  But there is no
such thing as Christianity without Christ.  We cannot
know it separately from him.  It is not a book which
Jesus wrote.  It is his conversation, his character, his




202                LOVE TO CHRIST.
history, his life, his death, his resurrection.  He pervades it throughout.  In loving him, we love his religion; and a just interest in this cannot be awakened:,
but by contemplating it as it shone forth in himself.
Christ's religion, I have said, is very imnperlfect without himself; and therefore they who wolld make an,abstract of his precepts, and say that it is enough to
follow these without thinking of their autllor, grievously
mistake, and rob the system of much  of its energy.  I[
mean not to disparage the precepts of Christ, considered
in themselves.  But their full power is only to be understood and felt, by those who place themselves near
the Divine Teacher, who see the celestial fervor of
his affection wvhilst he utters them, who follow his steps
from Bethlehem to Calvary, and witness the expression
of his precepts in his own life.  These come to me almost as new precepts, when I associate them with Jesus.
His command to love my enemies, becomes intelligible
and bright, when I stand by his cross and hear his
prayer for his murderers.  I understand what he meant
by the self-denial which he taught, when I see him foregoing the comforts of life, and laying down life itself,
for the good of others.  I learn the true character of
that benevolence, by which human nature is perfected,
how it unites calmness and earnestness, tenderness and
courage, condescension and dignity, feeling and a6tion 
this I learn in the life of Jesus as no words could teach
me.  So I am  instructed in the nature of piety by the
same model.  The command to love God with all my
heart, if only written, might have led me into extravagance, enthusiasm, and neglect of common duties; for
religious excitement has a peculiar tendency to excess;
but in Jesus I see a devotion to God, entire, perfect,




LOVW TO CHRIST.               203
never remitted, yet without the least appearance of passion, as calm and self-possessed as the love which a good
mind bears to a parent; and in him  I am  taught, as
words could not teach, how to join supreme regard to
my Creator, with active charity and common duties towards my fellow-beings.
And not only the precepts, but the great doctrines
of Christianity, are bound up with Jesus, and cannot
be truly understood without him.  For'example, one of
the great doctrines of Christianity, perhaps its chief, is
the kind interest of God in all his creatures, not only
in the good but in the evil; his placable, clement, merciful character; his desire to recover and purify and
make for ever happy even those who have stained themselves with the blackest guilt.  The true character of
God in this respect I see indeed in his providence, I
read it in his word, and for every manifestation of it I
am grateful.  But when I see his spotless and beloved
Son, to whom his power was peculiarly delegated, and
in whom he peculiarly dwelt, giving singular attention
to the most fallen and despised men, casting away all
outward pomp that he might mingle familiarly with the
poor and neglected; when I see him  sitting at table
with the publican and the sinner, inviting them to approach him  as a friend, suffering the wonman whose
touch was deemed pollution, to bedew  his feet with
tears; and when I hear him in the midst of such a concourse saying, "I am come to seek and to save that
which was lost,' —I have a conviction of the lenity,
benignity, grace, of that God whose representative and
chosen minister he was, such as no abstract teaching
could have given me. Let me add one more doctrine,
that of immortality.  I prize every evidence of this




204                LOVE TO CHRIST.
great truth; I look within and without me, for some
pledge that I am not to perish in the grave, that this
mind, with its thoughts and affections, is to live, and
improve, and be perfected, and to find that joy for which
it thirsts and which it cannot find on earth.  Christ's
teaching on this subject is invaluable; but what power
does this teaching gain, when I stand by his sepulchre,
and see the stone rolled away, and behold the great
revealer of immortality, rising in power and triumph,
and ascending to the life and happiness he had promised!
Thus Christianity, from beginning to end, is intimately connected with its Divine teacher.  It is not
an abstract system.  The rational Christian who would
think of it as such, who, in dwelling on the religion,
overlooks its Revealer, is unjust to it.  Would he see
and feel its power, let him see it warm, living, breathing, acting in the mind, heart, and life of its Founder.
Let him love it there.  In other words, let him  love
the character of Jesus, justly viewed, and he will love
the religion in the way most fitted to make it the power
of God unto salvation.
I have said that love to Christ, when he is justly
viewed, that is, when it is an enlightened and rational
affection, includes the love of his whole religion; but I
beg you to remember that I give this praise only to an
enlightened affection; and such is not the most common,
nor is it easily acquired.  I apprehend that there is no
sentiment, which needs greater care in its culture than
this. Perhaps, in the present state of the world, no
virtue is of more difficult acquisition than a pure and
intelligent love towards Jesus.  There is undoubtedly
much of' fervent feeling towards him  in the Christian




LOVE TO CHRIST.               205
world.  But let me speak plainly.  I do it from no uncharitableness.  I do it only to warn my fellow Christians. The greater part of this affection to Jesus seems
to me of very doubtful worth.  In many cases, it is aln
irregular fervor, which impairs the force and soundness
of the mind, and which is substituted for obedience to
his precepts, for the virtues which ennoble the soul.
Much of what is called love to Christ I certainly do not
desire you or myself to possess.  I know of no sentiment which needs more to be cleared from error and
abuse, and I therefore feel myself bound to -show you
some of its corruptions.
In the first place,.I am  persuaded that a love to
Christ of quite a low character is often awakened by an
injudicious use of his sufferings.  I apprehend, that if
the affection which many bear:to Jesus were analyzed)
the chief ingredient in it would be found to be a tenderness awakened by his cross. In certain classes of Christians, it is common for the religious teacher to delineate
the bleeding, dying Saviour, and to detail his agonies,
until men's natural sympathy is awakened; and when
assured that this deep woe was borne for themselves,
they almost necessarily yield to the softer feelings of
their nature.  I mean not to find fault with this sensibility.  It is happy for us that we are made to be touched
by others' pains. Woe to him, who has no tears for
mortal agony.  But in this emotion there is no virtue,
no moral worth; and we dishonor Jesus, when this is
the chief tribute we offer him.  I say there is no moral
goodness in this feeling.  To be affected, overpowered
by a crucifixion, is the most natural thing in the world.
Who of us, let me ask, whether religious or not, ever
went into a Catholic church, and there saw the picture
VOLt. IV.             18




206                LOVE TO CHR[ST.
of Jesus hanging from his cross, his head bending under
the weight of exhausting suffering, his hands and feet
pierced with nails, and his body stained with his opel
wounds, and has not been touched by the sight?  Suppose that, at this moment, there were lifted up among us
a human form, transfixed with a spear, and from which
the warm life-blood was dropping in the midst of us.
Who would not be deeply moved? and when a preacher, gifted with something of an actor's power, places the
cross, as it were, in the midst of a people, is it wonderful that they are softened and subdued?  I mean not
to censure all appeals of this kind to the human heart.
There is something interesting and encouraging in the
tear of compassion.  There was wisdom in the conduct
of the Moravian Missionaries in Greenland, who, finding
that the rugged and barbarous natives were utterly insensible to general truth, depicted, with all possible vividness, the streaming blood and dying agonies of Jesus,
and thus "caught the attention of the savage through his
sympathies, whom they could not interest through his
reason or his fears.  But sensibility thus awakened, is
quite a different thing from true, virtuous love to Jesus
Christ; and, when viewed and cherished as such, it
takes the place of higher affections.  I have often been
struck by the contrast between the use made of the cross
in the pulpit, and the calm, unimpassioned manner in
which the sufferings of Jesus are detailed by the Evangelists. These witnesses of Christ's last moments, give
you in simple language the particulars of that scene,
without one remark, one word of emotion; and if you
read the Acts and Epistles, you will not find a single instance, in which the Apostles strove to mnake a moving
picture of his crucifixion.  No; they honored Jesus too




LOVE TO CHRIST.               207
much, they felt too deeply the greatness of his character,
to be moved as many are by the circumstances of his
death.  Reverence, admiration, sympathy with his sublime spirit, these swallowed up, in a great measure, sympathy with his sufferings.  The cross was to them  the
last, crowning manifestation of a celestial mind; they
felt that it was endured to communicate the same mind
to them and the world; and their emotion was a holy
joy in this consummate and, unconquerable goodness.
To be touched by suffering is a light thing.  It is not
the greatness of Christ's sufferings on the cross which is
to move our whole souls, but the greatness of the spirit
with which he suffered.  There, in death, he proved his
entire consecration of himself to the cause of God and
mankind.  There his love flowed forth towards his
friends, his enemies, and the human race.  It is moral
greatness, it is victorious love, it is the energy of principle, which gives such interest to the cross of Christ.
We are to look through the darkness which hung over
him, through his wounds and pains, to his unbroken, disinterested, confiding spirit.  To approach the cross for
the purpose of weeping over a bleeding, dying friend,
is to lose the chief influence of the crucifixion.  We
are to visit the cross, not to indulge a natural softness,
but to acquire firmness of spirit, to fortify our minds for
hardship and suffering in the cause of duty and of human
happiness.  To live as Christ lived, to die as Christ
died, to give up ourselves as sacrifices to God, to conscience, to whatever good interest we can advance, —
these are the lessons written with the blood of Jesus
His cross is to inspire us with a cahnlm courage, resolution,
and superiority to all temptation.  I fear (is my feat
groundless?) that a sympathy which enervates rather




208                LOVE TO CHRIST.
than fortifies, is the impression too often received from
the crucifixion.  The depression with which the Lord's
table is too often approached, and too often left, shows,
-1 apprehend, that the chief use of his sufferings is little
understood, and that he is loved, not as a glorious sufferer
twho died to spread his own sublime spirit, but as a man
of sorrows, a friend bowed down with the weight of
grief.
In the second place, love to Christ of a very defective kind, is cherished in many, by the views which they
are accustomed to take of themselves.  They form  irrational ideas of their own guilt, supposing it to have its
origin in their very creation, and then represent to their
imaginations an abyss of fire and torment, over which
they hang, ifto which the anger of God is about to precipitate them, and from  which nothing but Jesus can
rescue them.  Not a few, I apprehend, ascribe to Jesus
Christ a greater compassion towards them than God is
supposed to feel.  His heart is tenderer than that of the
Universal Parent, and this tenderness is seen in his'
plucking them by a mighty power from tremendous and
infinite pain, from  everlasting burnings.  Now, that Jesus, under such circumstances should excite the mind
strongly, should become the object of a very intense attachment, is almost necessary; but the affection so excited is of very little worth.  Let the universe seem  to
me wrapped in darkness, let God's throne send forth no
light but blasting flashes, let Jesus be the only bright
and cheering object to my affrighted and desolate'soul,
and a tumultuous gratitude will carry me towards himn
just as irresistibly as natural instinct carries the parent
animal to its young.  I do and must grieve at the modes
commonly used to make Jesus Christ an interesting be



LOVE TO CHRIST.                 209
ing   Even the Infinite Father is stripped of his glory
for the sake of throwing a lustre round the Son.  The
condition of man is painted in frightful colors which cast
unspeakable dishonor on his Creator, for the sake of
magnifying the greatness of Christ's salvation.  Man is
stripped of all the powers which make him a responsible
being, his soul harrowed with terrors, and the future illumined only by the flames which are to consume him,
that his deliverer may seem more necessary; and when
the mind, in this state of agitation, in this absence of
self-control, is wrought up into a fervor of gratitude to
Jesus, it is thought to be sanctified.   This selfish, irrational gratitude, is called a virtue.  Much of the love
given to Jesus, having the origin of which I now speak,
seems to nme of no moral worth.  It is not the soul's
free gift, not a sentiment nourished by our own care from
a conviction of its purity and nobleness, but an instinctive, ungoverned, selfish feeling.  Suppose, my friends,
that in a tempestuous night you should find yourselves
floating towards a cataract, the roar of which should announce the destruction awaiting you, and that a fellowbeing of great energy, should rush through the darkness,
and bring you to the shore; could you help embracing
him with gratitude?  And would this emotion imply any
change of character?  Would you not feel it towards
your deliverer, even should he have acted from mere impulse, and should his general character be grossly defective?  Is not this a necessary working of nature, a
fruit of terror changed into joy?  I mean not to condemn it; I only say it is not virtue.  It is a poor tribute
to Jesus; he deserves something far purer and nobler.
The habit of exaggerating the wretchedness of man's
condition, for tle purpose of rendering Jesus more
18 




21 0               LOVE TO CHRIST.
necessary,, operates very seriously to degrade men's love
to Jesus, by accustoming them to ascribe to him a low
and commonplace character.  I wish this to be weighed.
They who represent to themselves the whole human
race as sinking by an hereditary corruption into an abyss
of flane and perpetual woe, very naturally think of Jesus
as a being of overflowing compassion, as impelled by a
resistless pity to fly to the relief of these hopeless victims; for this is the emotion that such a sight is fitted to
produce. Now this overpowering compassion, called
forth by the view of exquisite misery, is a very ordinary
virtue; and yet, I apprehend, it is the character ascribed
above all others to Jesus.  It certainly argues no extras
ordinary goodness, for it is an almost necessary impulse
of nature.  Were you, my friends, to see millions and
millions of the human race on the edge of a fiery gulf,
where ages after ages of torture awaited them, and were
the shrieks of millions who had already been plunged
into the abyss to pierce your ear, - could you refrain
from an overpowering compassion, and would you not
willingly endure hours and days of exquisite pain to give
these wretched millions release? Is there any man who
has not virtue enough for this? I have known men of
ordinary character hazard their lives under the impulse
of compassion, for the rescue of fellow-beings from infinitely lighter evils than are here supposed.  To me it
seems, that to paint the misery of human beings in these
colors of fire and blood, and to ascribe to Christ the
compassion which such misery must awaken, and to
make this the chief attribute of his mind, is the very
method to take from his character its greatness, and to
weaken his claim on our love.  I see nothing in Jesus
of thle overpowering compassion which is often ascribed'




LOVE TO CHRIST.               211
to him.  His character rarely exhibited strong emotion.
It was distinguished by calmness, firmness, and conscious dignity. Jesus had a mind too elevated to be
absorbed and borne away by pity, or any other passion.
He felt indeed deeply for human suffering and grief;
but his chief sympathy was with the Mind, with its sins
and moral diseases, and especially with its capacity of
improvement and everlasting greatness and glory.  He
felt himself commissioned to quicken and exalt irnmortal beings.  The thought which kindled and sustained
him, was that of an immeasurable virtue to be conferred
on the mind, even of the most depraved; a good, the
very conception of which implies a lofty character, a
good, which as yet has only dawned on his most im
proved disciples.  It is his consecration to this sublime
end. which constitutes his glory; and no farther than
we understand this, can we yield him the love which his
character claims and deserves.
I have endeavoured to show the circumstances which
have contributed to depress and degrade men's affections towards Jesus Christ.  To me the influence of
these causes seems to be great.  I know of no feeling
more suspicious than the common love to Christ.  A
true affection to him, indeed, is far from being of easy
acquisition.  As it is the purest and noblest we can
cherish, with the single exception of love to God, so it
requires the exercise of our best powers.  You all must
feel, that an indispensable requisite or preparation for
this love is to understand the character of Jesus.  But
this is no easy thing.  It not only demands that we
carefully read and study his history; there is another
process more important.  We must begin in earnest to
convert into practice our present imperfect knowledge




212                LOVE TO CHRIST.
of Christ, and to form ourselves upon him as far as he
is now  discerned.  Nothing so much brightens and
strengthens the eye of the mind to understand an excellent being, as likeness to him. We never know a great
character until something congenial to it has grown up
within ourselves.  No strength of intellect and no study
can enable a man of a selfish and sensual mind to comprehend Jesus.  Such a mind is covered with a mist 
and just in proportion as it subdues evil within itself, the
mist will be scattered, Jesus will rise upon it with a sunliike brightness, and will call forth its most fervent and
most enlightened affection.
I close with two remarks. You see, by this discourse,
how important to the love of Christ it is, to understand
with some clearness the purpose for which he came into
the world.  The low views prevalent on this subject,
seem to me to exert a disastrous influence on the whole
character, and particularly on our feelings towards Christ.
Christ is supposed to have come to rescue us from an
outward hell, to bear the penalties of an outward law.
Such benevolence would indeed be worthy of praise;
but it is an inferior form  of benevolence.  The glory
of Christ's character, its peculiar brightness, seems to
me to consist in his having given himself to accomplish
an inward, moral, spiritual deliverance of mankind. He
was alive to the worth and greatness of the human soul.
He looked through what men were, looked through the
thick shades of their idolatry, superstition, and vice,
and saw in every human being a spirit of divine origin
and godlike faculties, which might be recovered from
all its evil, which might become an image and a temple
of God.  The greatness of Jesus consisted in his de



LOVE TO CHRIST.               213
voting himself to call forth a mighty power in the human
breast, to kindle in us a celestial flame, to breathe into
us an inexhaustible hope, and to lay within us the foundation of an immovable peace.  His greatness consists
in the greatness and sublimity of the action which he
communicates to the human soul. This is his chief glory.
To avert pain and punishment is a subordinate work.
Through neglect of these truths, I apprehend that the
brightness of Christ's character is even now much obscured, and perhaps least discerned by some who think
they understand him best.
My second remark is, that, if the leading views of
this discourse be just, then love to Jesus Christ depends
very little on our conception of his rank in the scale of
being.  On no other topic have Christians contended
so earnestly, and yet it is of secondary importance
To know Jesus Christ is not to know the precise place
he occupies in the universe.  It is something more; it
is to look into his mind; to approach his soul; to comprehlend his spirit; to see how  he thought, and felt,
and purposed, and loved; to understand the workings
of that pure and celestial principle within him, through
which he came among us as our friend, and lived and
died for us. I am persuaded that controversies about
Christ's person, have in one way done great injury.
They have turned attention from  his character.  Suppose, that, as Americans, we should employ ourselves
in debating the questions, where Washington was born,
and from what spot he came when he appeared at the
head of our armies; and that, in the fervor of these
contentions, we should overlook the character of his
mind, the spirit that moved within him, the virtues
which distinguished him, the beamings of a noble, mag



214                LOVE TO CHRIST.
nanimous soul, -how  unprofitably should we be employed! Who is it that understands Washington?  Is
it he, that can settle his rank in the creation, his early
history, his present condition? or he, to whom the
soul of that great man is laid' open, who comprehends
and sympathizes with his generous purposes, who understands the energy with which he espoused the cause
of freedom and his country, and who receives through
admiration a portion of the same divine energy?  So
in regard to Jesus, the questions which have been agitated about his rank and nature are of inferior moment.
His greatness belonged not to his condition, but to his
mind, his spirit, his aim, his disinterestedness, his calm,
sublime consecration of himself to the high purpose of
God.
My hearers, it is the most interesting event in human
history, that such a being as Jesus has entere'd our
world, to accomplish the deliverance of our minds from
all evil, to bring them to G-od, to open heaven within
them, and thus to fit them for heaven.  It is our greatest privilege that he is brought within our view, offered
to our imitation, to our trust, to 6ur love.  A  sincere
and enlightened attachme.nt to him is at once our honor and our happiness, a spring of virtuous action, of
firmness in suffering, of immortal hope. But remember,
it will not grow up of itself.  You must resolve upon it,
and cherish it.  You must bring Jesus near, as he lives
and moves in the Gospel.  You should meet him in the
institution, which he especially aipointed for the corn
memoration of himself.  You sh, uld seek, by prayer,
God's aid in strengthening your wve to the Saviour.
You should learn his greatness and ieneficence by learning the greatness and destination of the souls which he




LOVE TO CHRIST.             215
tame to rescue and bless.  In the last place, you should
obey his precepts, and through this obedience should
purify and invigorate your minds to know and love him
more.  "C Grace be with all them that love our Lord
Jesus Christ in sincerity."








THE FUTURE LIFE.
DISCOURSE
PREACHED
ON EASTER SUNDAY, 1834, AFTER THE DEATH OF AN
EXCELLENT AND VERY DEAR FRIEND.
EPHESIANsr i. 20: " He raised him from the dead, and set him at
his own right hand in the heavenly places."
THIS day is set apart by the Christian world to the
commemoration of Christ's resurrection.  MIany uses
may be made of this event, but it is particularly fitted
to confirm the doctrine of another life, and to turn our
thoughts,, desires, hopes towards another world. I shall
employ it to give this direction to our minds.
There is one method in which Christ's resurrection
gives aid to our faith in another life, which is not often
dwelt on, and which seems to me worthy of attention.
Our chief doubts and difficulties in regard to that state,
spring chiefly from the senses and the imagination, and
not from the reason.  The eye, fixed on the lifeless
body, on the wan features and the motionless limbs,
— and the imagination, following the frame into the dark
tomb, and representing to itself the stages of decay
VOL. IV.              1 9




218                THE FUTURE LIFE.
and ruin, are apt to fill and oppress the mind with disc
couraging and appalling thoughts.'ile senses can detect
in the pale corse not a trace of the activity of that spirit
which lately moved it.  Death seems to have achieved
an entire victory; and when reason and revelation speak
of continued and a higher life, the senses and imagination, pointing to the disfigured and mouldering body,
obscure by their sad forebodings the light which reason and revelation strive to kindle in the bereaved soul.
Now, the resurrection of Christ meets, if I may so
say, the senses and imagination on their own ground,
contends with them with their own weapons.  It shows
us the very frame, on which death, in its most humiliating form, had set its seal, and which had been committed in utter hopelessness to the tomb, rising, breathing,
moving with new life, and rising not to return again to
the earth, but, after a short sojourn, to ascend from the
earth to a purer region, and thus to attest man's destination to a higher life. These facts, submitted to the
very senses, and almost necessarily kindling the imagination to explore the unseen world, seem to me particularly suited to overcome the main difficulties in the way
of Christian faith. Reason is not left to struggle alone
with the horrors of the tomb. The assurance that Jesus
Christ, who lived on the earth, who died on the cross,
and was committed a mutilated, bleeding frame to the
receptacle of the dead, rose uninjured, and then exchanged an earthly for a heavenly life, puts to flight
the sad auguries, which rise like spectres from  the
grave, and helps us to conceive, as in our present weakness we could not otherwise conceive, of man's appointed triumph over death.
Such is one of the aids given by the resurrection,




THE FUTURE LIFE.               219
to faith in immortality.  Still this faith is lamentably
weak in the multitude of men.  To multitudes, Heaven
is almost a world of fancy.  It wants substance.  The
idea of a world, in which beings exist without these
gross bodies, exist as pure spirits, or clothed with refined and spiritual frames, strikes them  as a fiction.
What cannot be seen or touched, appears unreal.  This
is mournful, but not wonderful; for how can men, who
immerse themselves in the body and its interests, and
cultivate no acquaintance with their own souls and spiritual powers, comprehend a higher, spiritual life? There
are multitudes who pronounce a man a visionary, who
speaks- distinctly and joyfully of his future being, and
of the triumph of the mind over bodily decay.
This skepticism  as to things spiritual and celestial,
is as irrational and unphilosophical as it is' degrading.
We have more evidence that we have souls or spirits,
than that we have bodies.  We are surer that we think,
and feel, and will, than that we have solid and extended
limbs and organs.  Philosophers have said much to disprove the existence of matter and motion, but they have
not tried to disprove the existence of thought; for it is
by thought they attempt to set aside.the reality of material nature.
Farther, how  irrational is it, to imagine that there
are no worlds but this, and no higher modes of existence than our own! Who that sends his eye through
this immense creation, can doubt that there are orders
of beings superior to ourselves, or can see any thing
unreasonable in the doctrine, that there are states in
which mind exists less circumscribed and clogged by
matter than on earth'; in other words, that there is a
spiritual world?  It is childish to make this infant life




220               THE FUTURE LIFE.
of ours the model of existence in all other worlds. The
philosopher, especially, who sees a vast chain of beings and an infinite variety of life on this single globe,
which is but a point in creation, should be ashamed of
that narrowness of mind, which can anticipate nothing
nobler in the universe of God than his present mode
of being.
How, now, shall the doctrine of a future, higher life,
the doctrine both of reason and revelation, be brought
to bear more powerfully on the mind, to become more
real, and effectual? Various methods might be given.
-I shall confine myself to one.  This method is, to
seek some clearer, more definite conception of the future state.  That world seems less real, for want of
some distinctness in its features.  We should all believe it more firmly if we conceived of it more vividly.
It seems unsubstantial, from its vagueness and dimness.
I think it right, then, to use the aids of Scripture and
Reason in forming to ourselves something like a sketch
of the life to come.  The Scriptures, indeed, give not
many materials for such a.delineation, but the few they
furnish are invaluable, especiallywhen we add to these
the lights thrown over futurity by the knowledge of
our own spiritual nature. Every new law of the mind,
which we discover, helps us to comprehend its destiny;
for its future life must correspond to its great laws and
essential powers.
These aids we should employ to give distinctness to
the spiritual state; and it is particularly useful so to do,
when excellent beings, whom we have known and loved,
pass from earth into that world.  Nature prompts us
to follow them to their new abode, to inquire into their
new life, to represent to ourselves their -new happiness;




TomE FUTURE lIFE.             221
and perhaps the spiritual world never becomes so near
and real to us, as when we follow into it dear friends,
and sympathize with them in the improvements and enjoyments of that blessed life.  Do not say that there is
danger here of substituting imagination for Truth. There
is no danger if we confine ourselves to the spiritual views
of Heaven, given us in the New Testament, and interpret these by the principles and powers of our own souls.
To me the subject is too dear and sacred to allow me
to indulge myself in dreams.  I want reality; I want
truth; and this I find in God's word and in the human
soul.
When our virtuous friends leave the world, we know
not the place where they go.  We can turn our eyes to
no spot in the universe, and say they are there.  Nor is
our ignorance here of any moment. It is unimportant
what region of space contains them. Whilst we know
not to what place they go, we know what is infinitely
more interesting, to what beings they go. We know not
where Heaven is, but we know Whom it contains, and
this knowledge opens us an infinite field for contempla-.
tion and delight.
I. Our virtuous friends, at death, go to Jesus Christ.
This is taught in the text. 1" God raised him from the
dead, and exalted him to Heaven."  The New Testament always speaks of Jesus as existing now in the spiritual world; and Paul tells us that it is the happiness of
the holy, when absent from the body, to be present with
the Lord.  Here is one great fact in regard to futurity.
The good, on leaving us here, meet their Saviour; and
this view alone assures us of their unutterable happiness.
In this world, they had cherished acquaintance with Jesus through the records of the Evangelists. They had
I19*




222              iTHE FUTURE LIFE.
followed him through his eventful life with veneration and
love, had treasured in their memories his words, works,
and life-giving promises, and, by receiving his spirit, had
learned something of the virtues and happiness of a
higher world.  Now they meet him, they see him
He is no longer a faint object to their mind, obscured by
distance and by the mists of sense and the world. He
is present to them, and more intimately present than we
are to each other.  Of this we are sure; for whilst the
precise mode of our fuiture existence is unknown, we do
know, that spiritual beings in that higher state must approach and commune with each other more and more
intimately in proportion to their progress.  Those who
are newly born into Heaven meet Jesus, and meet firom
him the kindest welcome.  The happiness of the Saviour, in receiving to a higher life a human being who has
been redeemed, purified, inspired with immortal goodness
by his influence, we can but imperfectly comprehend.
You can conceive what would be your feelings, on welcoming to shore your best friend, who had been tossed
on a perilous sea; but the raptures of earthly reunion
are faint compared with the happiness of Jesus, in receiving the spirit for which he died, and which under his
guidance has passed with an improving virtue through a
world of sore temptation.  We on earth meet after our
long separations to suffer as well as enjoy, and soon to
part again.  Jesus meets those who ascend from earth
to Heaven, with the consciousness that their trial is past,
their race is run, that death is conquered.  WVith his farreaching prophetic eye he sees them entering a career of
joy and glory never to end.  And his benevolent welcome is expressed with a power which belongs only to
the utterance of Heaven, and which communicates to




FTHE FUTURE LIFE.             223
them  an immediate, confiding, overflowing joy.  You
know that on earth we sometimes meet human beings,
whose countenances, at the first view, scatter all distrust,
and win from us something like the reliance of a longotried friendship.  One smile is enough to let us into their
hearts, to reveal to us a goodness on which we may rec
pose.  That smile with which Jesus will meet the newborn inhabitant of Heaven, that joyful greeting, that
beaming of love from him who bled for us, that tone of
welcome, - all these I can faintly conceive, but no language can utter them.  The joys of centuries will be
crowded into that meeting.  This is not fiction.  It is
truth founded on the essential laws of the mind.
Our friends, when they enter Heaven, meet Jesus
Christ, and their intercourse with him. will be of the
most affectionate and ennobling character.  There will
be nothing of distance in it.  Jesus is indeed sometimes
spoken of as reigning in the future world, and sometimes
imagination places him- on a real and elevated throne.
Strange that such conceptions can enter the minds of
Christians.  Jesus will indeed reign in Heaven, and so
he reigned on earth.  He reigned in the fishing-boat,
from  which he taught; in the humble dwelling, where
he gathered round him listening and confiding disciples.
His reign is not the vulgar dominion of this world.  It
is the empire of a great, godlike, disinterested being,
over minds capable of comprehending and loving him.
In Heaven, nothing like what we call government on
earth can exist, for government here is founded in human
weakness and guilt.  The voice of command is never
heard among the spirits of the just.  Even on earth, the
most perfect government is that of a family, where parents employ no tone but that of affectionate counsel,




224               THE FUTURE LIFE
where filial affection reads its duty in the mild look and
finds its law and motive in its own pure impulse. Christ
will not be raised on a throne above his followers.  On
earth he sat at the same table with the publican and sinne'.  Will he recede from the excellent whom he has
fitted for celestial mansions?  How minds will communicate with one another in that world, we know not; but
we know that our closest embraces are but types of the
spiritual nearness which will then be enjoyed; and to
this intimacy with Jesus the new-born inhabitant of
Heaven is admitted.
But we have not yet exhausted this source of future
happiness.  The excellent go from earth not only to receive a joyful welcome and assurances of eternal love
frorn the Lord.  There is a still higher view.  They
are brought by this new intercourse to a new comprehension of his mind, and to a new reception of his spirit.
It is indeed a happiness to know that we are objects of
interest and love to an illustrious being; but it is a greater happiness, to know deeply the sublime and beautiful
character of this being, to sympathize with hinm, to enter
into his vast thoughts and pure designs, and to brcome
associated with him in the great ends for which he liveqs
Even here in our infant and dim state of being, we learn
enough of Jesus, of his divine philanthropy triumphant
over injuries and agonies, to thrill us with affectionate
admiration.  But those in Heaven look into that vast,
godlike soul, as we have never done.  They approach
it, as we cannot approach the soul of the most confiding
friend; and this nearness to the mind of Jesus awakens
in themselves a power of love and virtue, which they
little suspected during their earthly being.  I trust I
speak to those, who, if they have ever been brought




THE FUTURE LIFE               225
into connexion with a noble human being, have felt, as it
were, a new spirit, and almost new capacities of thought
and life, expanded within them.  We all know, how a
man of. mighty genius and of heroic feeling, can impart
himself to, other minds, and raise them for a time to
something like his own energy; and in this we have a
faint delineation of the power to be exerted on the minds
of those who approach Jesus after death.  As nature at
this season springs to a new life under the beams of the
sun, so will the human soul be warmed and expanded
under the influence of Jesus Christ.  It will then become truly conscious of the immortal power treasured
up in itself.  His greatness will not overwhelm  it, but
will awaken a corresponding grandeur.
Nor is this topic yet exhausted.  The good, on approaching Jesus, will not only sympathize with his spirit,
but will become joint workers, active, efficient ministers,
in accomplishing his great work of spreading virtue and
happiness. We must never think of Heaven as a state of
inactive contemplation, or of unproductive feeling. Even
here on earth, the influence of Christ's character is seen
in awakening an active, self-sacrificing goodness.  It
sends the true disciples to the abodes of the suffering.
It binds them by new ties to their race.  It gives them
a new consciousness of being created for a ministry of
beneficence; and can they, when they approach more
nearly this divine Philanthropist, and learn, by a new
alliance with him, the fulness of his love, can they fail
to consecrate themselves to his work and to kindred
labors, with an energy of will unknown on earth?  In
truth, our sympathy with Christ could not be perfect, did we not act with him.  Nothing so unites
beings as cooperation in the same glorious cause,




226               THE FUTURE LIFE.
and to this union with Christ the excellent above are
received.
There is another very interesting view of the future
state, which seems to me to be a necessary consequence
of the connexion to be formed there with Jesus Christ.
Those who go there from  among us, must retain the
deepest interest in this world.  Their ties to those thehave left are not dissolved, but only refined.  On this
point, indeed, I want not the evidence of revelation; I
want no other evidence than the essential principles and
laws of the soul.  If the future state is to be an improvement on the present, if intellect is to be invigorated
and love expanded there, then memory, the fundamental
power of the intellect, must act with new energy on the
past, and all the benevolent affections, which have been
cherished here, must be quickened into a higher life. To
suppose the present state blotted out hereafter from the
mind, would be to destroy its use, would cut off all connexion between the two worlds, and would subvert responsibility; for how can retribution be awarded for a
forgotten existence?  No; we must carry the present
with us, whether we enter the world of happiness or
woe. The good will indeed form new, holier, stronger
ties above; but under the expanding influence of that
better world, the human heart will be capacious enough
to retain the old whilst it receives the new, to remember
its birth-place with tenderness whilst enjoying a maturer
and happier being. Did I think of those who are gone,
as dying to those they left, I should honor and love them
less. The man who forgets his home when he quits it,
seems to want the best sensibilities of our nature; and
if the good were to forget their brethren on earth in their
new abode, were to cease to intercede for them in their




THE FUTURE LIFE.             227
nearer approach to their common Father, could we think
of them as improved by the change?
All this I am compelled to infer from the nature of
the human mind.  But when I add to this, that the newborn heirs of heaven go to Jesus Christ, the great lover
of the human family, who dwelt here, suffered here, who
moistened our earth with his tears and blood, who has
gone not to break off but to continue and perfect his
beneficent labors for mankind, whose mind never for a
moment turns from our race, whose interest in the progress of his truth and the salvation of the tempted soul,
has been growing more and more intense ever since he
left our world, and who has thus bound up our race with
his very being,-when I think of all this, Iam sure that
they cannot forget our world. Could we hear them, I
believe they would-tell us that they never truly loved the
race before; never before knew, what it is to sympathize with human sorrow, to rejoice in human virtue, to
mourn for human guilt.  A new fountain of love to man
is opened within them. They now see what before
dimly gleamed on them, the capacities, the mysteries of
a human soul.  The significance of that word Immortality is now apprehended, and every being destined to it
rises into unutterable importance.  They love human
nature'as never before, and human friends are prized as
above all price.
Perhaps it may be asked, whether those born into
Heaven, not only remember with interest, but have a
present immediate knowledge of those whom they left
on earth? On this point, neither Scripture nor the
principles of human nature give us light, and we are of
course left to uncertainty.  I will only say, that I know
nothing to prevent such knowledge.  We are indeed




228               1 HE FUTURE LIFE.
accustomed to think of Heaven as distant; but of this
we have no proof.  Heaven is the union, the society of
spiritual, higher beings.  May not these fill the universe,
so as to make Heaven everywhere? are such beings
probably circumscribed, as we are, by material limits?
Milton has said, —
"Millions of spiritual beings walk the earth
Both when we wake and when we sleep."
It is possible that the distance of Heaven lies wholly
in the veil of flesh, which we now want power to penetrate. A new sense, a new eye, might show the spiritual world compassing us on every side.
But suppose Heaven to be remote. Still we on earth
may be visible to its inhabitants; still in an important
sense they may be present; for what do we mean by
presence? Am I not present to those of you who are
beyond the reach of my arm, but whom I distinctly see?
And is it at all inconsistent with our knowledge of nature, to suppose that those in Heaven, whatever be their
abode, may have spiritual senses, organs, by which they
may discern the remote as clearly as we do the near?
This little ball of sight can see the planets at the distance of millions of miles, and by the aids of science,
can distinguish the inequalities of their surfaces.  And
it is easy for us to conceive of an organ of vision so sensitive and piercing, that from our earth the inhabitants of
those far-rolling worlds might be discerned. Why, then,
may not they who have entered a higher state, and are
clothed with spiritual frames, survey our earth as distinctly as when it was their abode?
This may be the truth; but if we receive it as such,
let us not abuse it.  It is liable to abuse.  Let us not




THEf FUTURE LIFE.             229
think of the:departed, as looking on us with earthly,
partial affections.  They: love us more than ever, but
with a refined and spiritual love. They have now but
one wish for us, which is, that we may fit ourselves to
join them in their mansions of benevolence and piety.
Their spiritual vision penetrates to our souls.  Could
we hear the'r voice, it would not be an utterance of personal attachment, so much as.a quickening call to greater
effort, to more resolute self-denial, to a wider charity, to
a meeker endurance, a more filial obedience of the will
of God.  Nor must we think of them  as appropriated
to ourselves.  They are breathing now an atmosphere
of divine benevolence. They are charged with a higher
mission than when they trod the earth. And this thought
of the enlargement of their love should enlarge ours,
and carry us beyond selfish regards to a benevolence
akin to that with which they are inspired.
It is objected, I know, to the view I have given of
the connexion of the inhabitants of Heaven with:this
world, that it is inconsistent with their happiness.  It is
said, that if they retain their knowledge of this state, they
must suffer from the recollection or sight of our sins and
woes; that to enjoy Heaven, they must wean themselves
from the earth. This objection is worse than superficial.  It is a reproach to Heaven and the good.  It
supposes, that the happiness of that world is founded in
ignorance, that it is the happiness of the blind man, who,
were he to open his eye on what exists around him,
would be filled with horror.  It makes Heaven an Elysium, whose inhabitants perpetuate their joy by shutting
themselves up in narrow bounds, and hiding themselves
from the pains of their fellow-creatures.  But the good,
from their very nature, cannot thus be confined. Heaven
VOL. IV.              20




230               THE FUTURE LIf'E
would be a prison, did it cut them off from sympathy
with the suffering.  Their benevolence is too pure, too
divine, to shrink from  the sight of evil,  Let me add,
that the objection before us casts reproach on God.  It
supposes that there are regions of his universe, which
must be kept out of sight, which, if seen, would blight
the happiness of the virtuous.  But this cannot be true.
There are no such regions, no secret places of woe
which these pure spirits must not penetrate.  There is
impiety in the thought.  In such a universe there could
be no Heaven.
Do you tell me that according to these views, suffering must exist in that blessed state?  I reply, I do and
must regard Heaven as a world of sympathy.  Nothing,
I believe, has greater power to attract the regards of its
benevolent inhabitants, than the misery into which any
of their fellow-creatures may have fallen. The suffering
which belongs to a virtuous sympathy, I cannot, then,
separate from  Heaven.  But that sympathy, though it
has sorrow, is far from being misery. Even in this
world, a disinterested compassion, when joined with
power to minister to suffering, and with wisdom to comprehend its gracious purposes, is a spirit of peace, and
often issues in the purest delight.  Unalloyed as it will
be in another world, by our present infirmities, and ens
lightened by comprehensive views of God's perfect government, it will give a charm  and loveliness to the sublimer virtues of the blessed, and, like all other forms of
excellence, will at length enhance their felicity.
IT. You see how much of Heaven is taught us in the
single truth, that they who enter it, meet and are united
to Jesus Christ.  There are other interesting views at




THE FUTURE LIFE.              231
which I can only glance. The departed go not to Jesus
only.  They go to the great and blessed society which
is gathered round him, to the redeemed from all regions
of earth, " to the city of the living God, to an innumerable company of angels, to the church of the first-born,
to the spirits of the just made perfect."  Into what a
glorious community do they enter! And how they are
received you can easily understand.  We are told, there
is joy in heaven over the sinner who repenteth; and will
not his ascension to the abode of perfect virtue, communicate more fervent happiness?  Our friends who leave
us for that wonrld, do not find themselves cast among
strangers.  No desolate feeling springs up of having exchanged their home for a foreign country.  The tenderest accents of human friendship never approached in
affectionateness the voice of congratulation, which bids
them welcome to their new and everlasting abode. In
that world, where minds have surer means of revealing
themselves than here, the newly arrived immediately see
and feel themselves encompassed with virtue and goodness; and through this insight into the congenial spirits
which surround them, intimacies stronger than years can
cement on earth, may be created in a moment.
It seems to me accordant with all the principles of
human nature, to suppose that the departed meet peculiar
congratulation from friends who had gone before them to
that better world; and especially from all who had in
any way given aids to their virtue; from parents who
had instilled into them the first lessons of love to God
and man; from  associates, whose examples Ilad won
them to goodness, whose faithful counsels deterred them
from sin.  The ties created by such benefits must be
eternal.- The grateful soul must bind itself with peculiar
affection to such as guided it to immortality.




232               THE FUTURE LIFE.
In regard to "the happiness of the intercourse of the
future state, all of you, I trust, can form  some apprehensions of it.  If we have ever known the enjoyments
of friendship, of entire confidence, of co6peration in
honorable and successful labors with those we love, we
can comprehend something of the felicity of a world,
where souls, refined from selfishness, open as the day,
thirsting for new truth and virtue, endued with new power
of enjoying the beauty and grandeur of the universe,
allied in the noblest works of benevolence, and continually discovering new  mysteries of the Creator's power
and goodness, communicate themselves to one another
with the freedom of perfect love.  Tilhe closest attachments of this life are cold, distant, stranger-like, compared with theirs. How they communicate themselves,
by what languiage or organs, we know not. But this we
know, that in the progress of the mind, its power of imparting itself must improve.  The eloquence, the thrilling, inspiring tones, in which the good and noble sometimes speak to us on earth, may help us to conceive the
expressiveness, harmony, energy of the language in
which superior beings reveal themselves above.  Of
what they converse we can better judge. They who
enter that world, meet beings whose recollections extend
through ages, who have met together perhaps from various worlds, who have been educated amidst infinite
varieties of condition, each of whom has passed through
nis own discipline and reached his own peculiar form of
perfection, and each of whom is a peculiar testimony to
the providence of the Universal Father. What treasures of memory, observation, experience, imagery, illustration, must enrich the intercourse of Heaven! One
angel's history may be a volume of more various truth,




TIM, FUTURE LIFM.             233
than all the records of our race. -After all, how little
can our present experience help us to understand the
intercourse of Heaven, a communion marred by no
passion, chilled by no reserve, depressed by no consciousness of sin, trustful as childhood, and overflowing
with innocent joy, a communion in which the noblest
feelings flow fresh from the heart, in which pure beings
give familiar utterance to their divinest inspirations, to
the Wonder which perpetually springs up amidst this
ever-unfolding and ever-mysterious universe, to the raptures of adoration and pious gratitude, and to the swellings of a sympathy which cannot be-confined.
But it would be wrong to imagine that the inhabitants of Heaven only converse.  They who reach that
world,-enter on a state of action, life, effort.  We are
apt to think of the future world as so happy that none
need the aid of others, that effort ceases, that the good
have nothing to do, but to enjoy.  Tile truth is, that
all action on earth, even the intensest, is but the sport
of childhood, compared with the energy and activity of
that higher life.  It must be so.  For what principles
are so active as intellect, benevolence, the love of truth,
the thirst for perfection, sympathy with the suffering,
and devotion to God's purposes; and these are the everexpanding principles of the future life.  It is true, the
labors which are now laid on us for food, raiment,
outward interests, cease at the grave.  But far deeper
wants than those of the body are developed in Heaven
There it is that the spirit first becomes truly conscious
of its capacities; that truth opens before us in its infinity; that the universe is seen to be a boundless sphere
for discovery, for science, for the sense of beauty, for
beneficence, and for adoration.  There new objects to
20*




234               THE FUTURE LIFE.
live for, which reduce to nothingness present interests,
are constantly unfolded.  We must not think of Heaven
as a stationary community.  I think of it as a world of
stupendous plans and efforts for its own improvements
I think of it, as a society passing through successive
stages of developement, virtue, knowledge, power, by
the energy of its own members.  Celestial genius is
always active to explore the great laws of the creation
and the everlasting principles of the mind, to disclose
the beautiful in the universe, and to discover the means
by Which every soul may be carried forward.  In that
world, as in this, there are diversities of intellect, and
the highest minds find their happiness and progress in
elevating the less improved.  There the work of education, which began here, goes on without end; and a
diviner philosophy than is taught on earth, reveals the
spirit to itself, and awakens it to earnest, joyful effort
for its own perfection.
And not only will they who are born into Heaven,
enter a society full of life and action for its own developement.  Heaven has connexion with other worlds.
Its inhabitants are God's messengers through the creat.on.  They have great trusts.  In the progress -of
their endless being, they may have the care of other
worlds.  But I pause, lest to those unused'to such
speculations, I seem  to exceed the bounds of calm anticipation.  What I have spoken seems to me to rest
on God's word and the laws of the mind, and these
laws are everlasting.
On one more topic I meant to enlarge, but I must
forbear.  They who are born into Heaven, go not only
to Jesus, and an innumerable company of pure beings.




THE, FUTURE LIFE.              235
They go-to God.  They see Him with a new light in
all his works.  Still more, they see Him, as the Scriptures teach, face to face, that is, by Immediate Communion.  These new  relations of the ascended spirit
to the Universal Father, how near! how  tender! how
strong! how exalting!  But this is too great a subject
for the time which remains.  And yet it is the chief
element of the felicity of Heaven.
The views now given of the future state, should make
it an object of deep interest, earnest hope, constant
pursuit.  Heaven is, in truth, a glorious reality.  Its
attraction should be felt perpetually.  It should overcome the force with which this world draws us to itself.
Were there a country on earth uniting all that is beautiful in nature, all that is great in virtue, genius, and
the liberal arts, and numbering among its citizens, the
most illustrious patriots, poets, philosophers, philanthropists of our age, how eagerly should we cross the
ocean to visit it!  And how immeasurably greater is
the attraction of Heaven!  There live the elder brethren of the creation, the sons of the morning, who sang
for joy at the creation of our race; there the great and
good of all ages and climes; the friends, benefactors,
deliverers, ornaments of their race; the patriarch, prophet, apostle, and martyr; the true heroes of public,
and still more of private, life; the father, mother, wife,
husband, child, who, unrecorded by man, have walked
before God in the beauty of love and self-sacrificing
virtue.  There are all who have built up in our hearts
the power of goodness and truth, the writers from whose
pages we have received the inspiration of pure and
lofty sentiments, the friends whose countenances have




236               THE FUTURE LIFE.
shed light through our dwellings, and peace and strength
through our hearts.  There they are gathered together,
safe from every storm, triumphant over evil; -and they
say to us, Come and join us in our everlasting blessedness; Come and bear part in our song of praise; Share
our adoration, friendship, progress, and works of love.
They say to us, Cherish now in your earthly life, that
spirit and virtue of Christ which is the beginning and
dawn of Heaven, and we shall soon welcome you, with
more than human friendship, to ourown immortality.
Shall that voice speak to us in vain?  Shall our worldliness and unforsaken sins, separate us, by a gulf which
cannot be passed, from the society of Heaven?




WAR.
DISCOURSE
DELIVERED JANUARY 25, 1835.
JAMES iv. 1: "Whence come wars and fightings among you.?"
I ASK your attention to the subject of public war. I
am aware, that to some this topic may seem to have political bearings, which render it unfit for the pulpit; but
to me it is eminently a moral and religious subject.  In
approaching it, political parties and interest vanish firom
my mind.  They are forgotten amidst the numerous miseries and crimes of war.  To bring war to an end was
one of the purposes of Christ, and his mninisters are
bound to concur with him in the work.  The great difficulty on the present occasion, is, to select some point
of view from the vast field which opens before us.  After some general remarks, I shall confine myself to a
single topic, which at present demands peculiar attention.
Public war is not an evil which stands alone, or has
nothing in common with other evils.  It belongs, as the
text intimates, to a great family.  It may be said, that
society, through its whole extent, is deformed by war.




238                      WAR.
Even in families we se6 jarring interests and passions,
invasions of rights, resistance of authority, violence,
force; and in common life, how continually do we see
men struggling with one another for property or distinction, injuring one another in word or deed, exasperated
against one another by jealousies, neglects, and mutual
reproach.  All this is essentially war, but war restrained,
hemmed in, disarmed by the opinions and institutions of
society.  To limit its ravages, to guard reputation, property, and life, society has instituted government, erected
the tribunal of justice, clothed the legislator with the
power of enactlng equal laws, put the sword into the
hand of the magistrate, and pledged its whole force to
his support.  Human wisdom  has been manifested in
nothing more conspicuously than in civil institutions for
repressing war, retaliation, and passionate resort to force,
among the citizens of the same state.  But here it has
stopped. Government, which is ever at work to restrain
the citizen at home, often lets him loose, and arms him
with fire and sword against other communities, sends out
hosts for desolation and slaughter, and concentrates the
whole energies of a people in the work of spreading
misery and death.  Government, the peace-officer at
home, breathes war abroad, organizes it into a science,
reduces it to a system, makes it a trade, and applauds
it as if it were the most honorable work of nations.
Strange that the wisdom which has so successfully put
down the wars of individuals, has never been inspired
and emboldened to engage in the task of bringing to an
end the more gigantic crimes and miseries of public
war.  But this universal pacification, until of late, has
hardly been thought of; and in reading history we are
almost tempted to believe, that the chief end of govern



WAR.                    239
ment in promoting internal quiet, has been to accumulate greater resources for foreign hostilities.  Bloodshed
is the staple of history, and men have been butchered
and countries ravaged, as if the human frame had been
constructed with such exquisite skill only to be mangled,
and the earth covered with fertility only to attract the
spoiler.
These reflections, however, it is not my intention to
pursue.  The miseries of war are not my present subject. One remark will be sufficient to place them in
their true light.  What gives these miseries preeSminence among human woes, - what should compel us to
look on them with peculiar horror, - is, not their awful
amount, but their origin, their source. They are miseries
inflicted by man on man. They spring from depravity
of will.  They bear the impress of cruelty, of hardness
of heart.  The distorted features, writhing frames, and
shrieks of the wounded and dying, - these are not the
chief horrors of war: they sink into unimportance compared with the infernal passions which work this woe.
Death is a light evil when not joined with crime. Had
the countless millions destroyed by war, been swallowed
up by floods or yawning earthquakes, we should look
back awe-struck, but submissive, on the mysterious
providence which had thus filfilled the mortal sentence
originally passed on the human race.  But that man,
born of woman, bound by ties of brotherhood to man,
and commanded by an inward law and the voice of God
to love and do good, should, through selfishness, pride,
revenge, inflict these agonies, shed these torrents of
human blood, — here is an evil which combines with
exquisite suffering fiendish guilt.  All other evils fade
before it.




240                     WAR.
Such are the dark features of war. I have spoken
of them strongly, because humanity and religion demand
from us all a new and sterner tone on this master evil.
But it is due to human nature to observe, that whilst war
is, in the main, the offspring and riot of the worst passions, better principles often mix with it and throw a veil
over its deformity.  Nations fight not merely for revenge
or booty.  Glory is often the stirring word; and glory,
though often misinterpreted and madly pursued by crime,
is still an impulse of great minds, and shows a nature
made to burn with high thoughts, and to pour itself forth
in noble deeds. Many have girded themselves for battle
from pure motives; and, as if to teach us that unmingled
evil cannot exist in God's creation, the most ferocious
conflicts have been brightened by examples of magnanimous and patriotic virtue.  In almost all wars, there is
some infusion of enthusiasm; and in all enthusiasm, there
is a generous element.
Still war is made up essentially of crime and misery,
and to abolish it is one great purpose of Christianity,
and should be the earnest labor of philanthropy; nor is
this enterprise to be scoffed at as hopeless.  The tendencies of civilization are decidedly towards peace.
The influences of progressive knowledge, refinement,
arts, and national wealth, are pacific.  The old motives
for war are losing power. Conquest, which once maddened nations, hardly enters fnow into the calculation of
statesmen.  The disastrous and disgraceful termination
of the last career of conquest which the world has
known, is reading a lesson not soon to be forgotten.  It
is now thoroughly understood, that the developement of
a nation's resources in peace is the only road to prosperity; that even successful war makes a people poor,




WAR.                     241
crushing them with taxes and crippling their progress in
industry and useful arts. We have another pacific influ
ence at the present moment, in the increasing intelligence
of the middle and poorer classes of society, who, in
proportion as they learn their interests and rights, are
unwilling to be used as materials of war, to suffer and
bleed in serving the passions and glory of a privileged
few. Again; science, commerce, religion, foreign travel,
new facilities'of intercourse, new exchanges of literature,
new friendships, new interests, are overcoming the old
antipathies of nations, and are silently spreading the
sentiment of'human brotherhood, and the conviction
that the welfare of each is the happiness of all.  Once
more; public opinion is continually gaining strength in
the civilized and Christian world; and to this tribunal all
states must in a measure bow.  Here are pacific influences.  Here are encouragements to labor in the cause
of peace.
At the present day, one of the chief incitements to
war is to be found in false ideas of honor.  Military
prowess and military success are thought to shed peculiar
glory on a people; and many, who are too wise to be
intoxicated with these childish delusions, still imagine
that the honor of a nation consists peculiarly in the spirit
which repels injury, in sensibility to wrongs, and is therefore peculiarly committed to the keeping of the sword.
These opinions I shall now examine, beginning with the
glory attached to military achievements.
That the idea of glory should be associated strongly
with military exploits, ought not to be wondered at.
From the earliest ages, ambitious sovereigns and states
have sought to spread the military spirit, by loading it
with rewards. Badges, ornaments, distinctions, the most
VOL. IV.              21




242                     WMAR.
flattering and intoxicating, have been the prizes of war.
The aristocracy of Europe, which commenced in bal-.
barous ages, was founded on military talent and success;
and the chief education of the young noble, was for a
long time little more than a training for battle, - hence
the strong connexion between war and lonor.  All past
ages have bequeathed us this prejudice, and the structure
of society has given it a fearful force.  Let us consider
it with some particularity.
The idea of honor is associated with war.  But to
whom does the honor belong? If to any, certainly not
to the mass of the people, but to those who are particularly engaged in it.  The mass of a people, who stay at
home, and hire others to fight, - who sleep in their
warm beds, and hire others to sleep on the cold and
damp earth, -who sit at their well-spread board, and
hire others to take the chance of starving, who nurse the
slightest hurt in their own bodies, and hire others to expose themselves to mortal wounds and to linger in comfortless hospitals; - certainly this mass reap little honor
fiom war; the honor belongs to those immediately engaged in it.  Let me ask, then, what is the chief business of war? It is to destroy human life; to mangle
the limbs; to gash and hew the body; to plunge the
sword into the heart of a fellow-creature; to strew the
earth with bleeding fiames, and to trample them under
foot with horses' hoofs.  It is to batter down and burn
cities; to turn fruitful fields into deserts; to level tJhe
cottage of the peasant and the magnificent abode of opulence; to scourge nations with famine; to nmultiply
widows and orphans.   Are these honorable deeds?
Were you called to name exploits worthy of demons,
would you not naturally select such as these    G-rant




WAR.                     243
that a necessity for them may exist; it is a dreadful
necessity, such as a good man must recoil from with instinctive horror; and though it may exempt them fromn
guilt, it cannot turn them into glory.  We have thought
that it was honorable to heal, to save, to mitigate pain,
to snatch the sick and sinking from the jaws of death.
We have placed among the revered benefactors of the
human race, the discoverers of arts which alleviate hluman sufferings, which prolong, comfort, adorn, and cheer
human life; and if these arts be honorable, where is the
glory of multiplying and aggravating tortures and death?
It will be replied, that the honorableness of war consists not in the business which it performs, but in the
motives from which it springs, and in the qualities which
it indicates.  It will be asked, Is it not honorable to
serve one's country, and to expose one's life in its
cause?  Yes, our country deserves love and service;
and let her faithful friends, her loyal sons, who under
the guidance of duty and disinterested zeal, have poured
out their blood in her cause, live in the hearts of a
grateful posterity.  But who does not know, that this
moral heroism  is a very different thing from  the commoll military spirit?  Who is so simple as to believe,
that this all-sacrificing' patriotism of principle is the
motive which fills the ranks of war, and leads men to
adopt the profession of arms?  Does this sentiment
reign in the common soldier, who enlists because driven
from all other modes of support, and hires himself to
be shot at for a few cents a-day? Or does it reign in
the officer, who, for pay and promotion, from the sense
of reputation, or dread of disgrace, meets the foe with
a fearless front?  There is, indeed, a vulgar patriotism
nourished by war; I mean that which burns to humble




244                     WAR.
other nations, and to purchase for our own the exultation of triumph and superior force.  But as for true
patriotism, which has its root in benevolence, and which
desires the real and enduring happiness of our country,
nothing is more adverse to it than war, and no class of
men have less of it than those engaged in war. Perhaps in no class is the passion for display and distinction
so strong; and in accordance with this infirmity, they
are apt to regard as the highest interest of the state,
a career of conquests, which makes a show and dazzles
the multitude, however desolating or unjust in regard to
foreign nations, or however blighting to the prosperity
of their own.
The motives which generally lead to the choice of
a military life, strip it of all claim to peculiar honor.
There are employments, which from their peculiar character, should be undertaken only from high motives.
This is peculiarly the case with the profession of arms.
Its work is bloodshed, destruction, the infliction of the
most dreaded evils, not only on wrong-doers, oppressors, usurpers, but on the innocent, weak, defenceless.
From this task humanity recoils, and nothing should
reconcile us to it but the solemn conviction of duty to
God, to our country, to mankind.  The man who undertakes this work solely or chiefly to earn money or
an epaulette, commits, however unconsciously, a great
wrong.  Let it be conceded, that he who engages in
military life, is bound, as in other professions, to insure
from his employers the means of support, and that he
may innocently seek the honor which is awarded to
faithful and successful service.  Still, from the peculiar
character of the profession, from the solemnity and
terribleness of its agency, no man can engage in;t in



WAR.                    245
nocently or honorably, who does not deplore its necessity, and does not adopt it from generous motives, from
the power of moral and public considerations.  That
these are not the motives which now fill armies, is too
notorious to need proof. How common is it for military
men to desire war, as giving rich prizes and as advant
cing them in their profession. They are willing to slaughter their fellow-creatures for money and distinction;and is the profession of such men peculiarly glorious? I
am not prepared to deny that human life may sometimes
be justly taken; but it ought to be taken under the
solemn conviction of duty and for great public ends.
To destroy our fellow-creatures for profit or promotion,
is to incur a guilt from which most men would shrink,
could it be brought distinctly before their minds.  That
there may be soldiers of principle, men who abhor the
thought of shedding human blood, and who consent to
the painful office only because it seems to them imposed
by their country and the best interests of mankind, is
freely granted. Such men spring up especially in periods of revolution, when the liberties of a nation are at
stake.  But that this is not the spirit of the military
profession, you know.  That men generally enter this
profession from  selfish motives, that they hire themselves to kill for personal remuneration, you know.
That they are ready to slay a fellow-creature, from inducements not a whit more disinterested than those
which lead other men to fell an ox or crush a pernicious
insect, you know; and, of consequence, the profession
has no peculiar title to respect.  It is particularly degraded by the offer of prize-money.  The power of
this inducement is well understood.  But is it honorable
to kill a fellow-creature for a share of his spoils?  A
21*i~




246                      WAR,
nation which offers prize-money, is chargeable with the
crime of tainting the mind of the soldier.  It offlers him
a demoralizing motive to the destruction of his fellowcreatures.  It saps high principle in the minds of those
who are susceptible of generous impulses.  It establishes the most inhuman method of getting rich which civilized men can pursue.  I know that society views this
subject differently, and more guilt should be attached to
society than to the soldier; bhut still the character of
the profession remains degraded by the motives which
most commonly actuate its members; and war, as now
carried on, is certainly among the last vocations to be
called honorable.
Let not these remarks be misconstrued.  I mean not
to deny to military men equal virtue with other classes
of society.  All classes are alike culpable in regard to
war, and the burden presses too heavily on all, to allow
any to take up reproaches against others.  Society has
not only established and exalted the military profession,
but studiously allures men into it by bribes of vanity,
cupidity, and ambition.  They who adopt it, have on
their side the suffrage of past ages, the sanction of opinion and law, and the applauding voice of nations; so
that justice commands us to acquit them of peculiar
deviations firom duty, or of falling below society in moral
worth or private virtue.
MIuch of the glare thrown over the' military profession, is to be ascribed to the false estimate of courage,
which prevails through the Christian world. 5Men are
dazzled by this quality.  On no point is popular opinion
more perverted and more hostile to Christianity, and
to this point I would therefore solicit particular attention.  The truth is, that the delusion on this subject has




WAR.                     247
come down to us from remote ages, and has been from
the beginning a chief element of the European character.  Oumr northern ancestors, who overwhelmed the
Roman empire, were fanatical to the last degree in respect to military courage.  They made it the first of
virtues.  One of the chief articles of their creed -was,
that a man dying on the field of battle, was transported
at once to the hall of their god Odin, a terrible paradise,
where he was to quaff for ever delicious draughts from
the skulls of his enemies.  So rooted was this fanaticism, that it was thought a calamity to, die of disease
or old age; and death by violence, even if inflicted by
their own hands, was thought more honorable than to
expire by the slow, inglorious processes of nature. This
spirit, aided by other causes, broke out at length into
chivalry, the strangest mixture of good and evil, of mercy and c'ruelty, of insanity and generous sentiment, to
be found in human history.  This whole institution
breathed an extravagant estimation of courage.  To be
without fear was the first attribute of a good knight.
Danger was thirsted for, when it might innocently be
shunned.  Life was sported with wantonly.  Amusements full of peril, exposing even to mortal wounds,
were pursued with passionate eagerness.  The path to
honor lay through rash adventures, the chief merit of
which was'the scorn of suffering and of death which
they expressed. This fanaticism has yielded in a measure to good sense, and still more to the spirit of Christianity.  But still it is rife; and not a few imagine fearless courage to be the height of glory.
That courage is of no worth, I have no disposition
to affirm.  It ought to be prized, sought, cherished.
Though not of itself virtuous, it is an important aid to




248                      WAR.
virtue. It gives us the command of our faculties wheti
needed most.  It converts the dangers which palsy the
weak, into springs of energy. Its firm look often awes
the injurious, and silences insult.  All great enterprises
demand it, and without it virtue cannot rise into magnanimity.  Whilst it leaves us exposed to many vices,
it saves us from one class peculiarly ignominious, -froim
the servility, deceit, and base compliance, which belong
to fear.  It is accompanied too with an animated consciousness of power, which is one of the high enjoyments of life.  We are bound to cherish it as the safeguard of happiness and rectitude; and when so cherished
it takes rank among the virtues.
Still, courage considered in itself, or without reference to its origin and motives, and regarded in its common manifestations, is not virtue, is not moral excellence; and the disposition to exalt it above the spirit of
Christianity, is one of the most ruinous delusions which
have been transmitted to us from barbarous times.  In
most men, courage has its origin in a happy organization
of the body.  It belongs to the nerves rather than the
character.  In some, it is an instinct bordering on rashness.  In one man, it springs from  strong passions obscuring the idea of danger.  In another, from  the want
of imagination or from the incapacity of bringing fuiure
evils near.  The courage of the uneducated may often
be traced to stupidity; to the absence of thoughlt and
sensibility.  Alany are courageous from the dread of the
infamy absurdly attached to cowardice.  One terror expels another.  A bullet is less formidable than a sneer
To show the moral worthlessness of mere courage, of
contempt of bodily suffering and pain, one consideration
is sufficient; —the most abandoned have possessed it




WAR                       249
in perfection.  The villain often hardens into the thorough hero, if courage and heroism be one.  The more
complete his success in searing conscience and defying
God, the more dauntless his daring. Long-continued
vice and exposure naturally generate contempt of life
and a reckless encounter of peril.  Courage, considered
in itself or without reference to its causes, is no virtue
and deserves no esteem.  It is found in the best and
the worst, and is to be judged according to the qualities
from  which it sprinigs and with which it is conjoined.
TlFhere is in truth  a virtuous, glorious courage; but it
happens to be fbund least in those who are most admired
for bravery.  It is the courage of principle, which dares
to do right in the face of scorn, which puts to hazard
reputation, rank, the prospects of advancement, the
sympathy of friends, the admiration of the world, rather
than violate a conviction of duty.  It is the courage of
benevolence and piety, which counts not life dear. in
vithstanding error, superstition, vice, oppression, injustice, and the mightiest foes of human improvement and
happiness.  It is moral energy, that force,of will in
adopting duty, over which nenace and suffering have
no power.  it is the courage of a soul, which reverences itself too much to be greatly moved about what
befalls the body; which thirsts so intensely for a pure
inward life, that it can yield up the animal life without
fear; in which the idea of moral, spiritual, celestial
good has been unfolded so brightly as to obscure all
worldly interests; which aspires after immortality, and
therefore heeds little the pains or pleasures of a day;
which has so concentred its whole power and life in the
love of godlike virtue, that it even finds a joy in the
perils and sufferings by which its loyalty to God and




250                      WAoR.
virtue may be approved.  This courage may be called
the perfection of humanity, for it is the exercise, result7
and expression of the highest attributes of our' nature.
Need I tell you, that this courage has hardly any thing
in common with what generally bears the name, and has
been lauded by the crowd to the skies?  Can any man7
not wholly blinded to moral distinctions, compare or
confound with this divine energy, the bravery derived
firom  constitution, nourished by ambitionm, and blazing
out in resentment, which forms the glory of military
men and of men of the world?  The courage of military and ordinary life, instead of' resting on high and
unchangeable principles, F-Pds its chief motive in the
opinions of the world, and its c-hief reward in vulgar
praise.  Superior to bodily pain,, it crouches before cen
sure, and dares not face the scorn which faithfulness
to God and unpopular duty must often incur.  It wears
the appearance of energy, because it conquers one
strong passion, fear; but the other passions it leaves unmastered, and thus differs essentially from moral strength
or greatness, which consists is subjecting all appetitesq
and desires to a pure and high standard of rectitude
Brilliant courage, as it is called, so far fiom  being a
principle of universal self-control, is often joined with
degrading pleasures, with a lawless spirit, with general
licentio-usness of manners, with a hardihood which defies God as well as man, and which, not satisfied with,
scorning death, contemns the judgment that is to follow.
So wanting in moral worth is the bravery which has so
long been praised, sung, courted, adored.  It is time
that it should be understood.  It is time that the old,
barbarous, indiscriminate worship of mere courage shou!d
give place to a wise mnoral judgmnen t.  This fanatic*ism




WAR..                     251
has done much to rob Christianity of its due honor.
Mlen, who give their sympathies and homage to the fiery
and destructive valoii of the soldier, will see little attraction in the mild and peaceful spirit of Jesus.  His
unconquerable forbearance, the most genuine and touching expression of his divine philanthropy, may even seem
to them a weakness.  We read of those who, surrounding the cross, derided the meek sufferer.  They did it
in their ignorance.  More guilty, more insensible are
those, who, living under the light of Christianity, and
yielding it their assent, do not see in that cross a glory
lwhich pours contempt on the warrior.  WVill this delusion( never cease?  Will men never learn to reverence
disinterested love?  Shall the desolations and woes of
ages bear their testimony in vain against the false glory
which has so long dazzled the world?  Shall Christ,
shall moral perfection, shall the spirit of heaven, shall
God manifest in his Son, be for ever insulted by the
worship paid to the spirit of savage hordes?   Shall
the cross ostentatiously wore on the breast, never come
to the heart, a touching emblem  and teacher of allsuffering love?-I do not ask these questions in despair.
Whilst we lament the limited triumphs of Christianity
over false notions of honor, we see and ought to recognise its progress.'War is not now the only or chief
path to glory.  The greatest names are not now written
in blood.  The purest famne is the Imeed of genius, philosophy, philanthropy, anld piety, dlevoting themselves to
the best interests of humanity.  The passion for military glory is no longer, as once, able of itself to precipitate nations into war.  In all this let us rejoice.
In the preceding remarks, I aimed to show that the
glory awarded to military prowess and success, is un



252                      WAR.
founded, -  to show the deceitfulness of the glare which
seduces many into the admiration of war.  I proceed
to another topic, which is necessary to give us a full
understanding of the pernicious influence exerted by the
idea of honor in exciting nations to hostility.  There
are many persons who have little admiration of warlike achievements, and are generally inclined to peace,
but who still imagine that the honor of a nation cons
sists peculiarly in quickness to feel and repel injury,
and who, consequently, when their country has been
wronged, are too prone to rush into war.  Perhaps its
interests have been slightly touched.  Perhaps its wellbeing imperiously demands continued peace.  Still its
honor is said to call for reparation, and no sacrifice is
thought too costly to satisfy the claim.  That rational
honor should be dear, and guarded with jealous care,
no man will deny; but in proportion as we exalt it, we
should be anxious to know precisely what it means, lest
we set up for our worship a false, unjust, merciless deity,
and instead of glory shall reap sharne.  I ask, then, in
what does the honor of a nation consist? What are
its chief elements or constituents?  The common views
of it are narrow and low.  Every people should study
it; and in proportion as we understand it, we shall learn
that it has no tendency to precipitate nations into war.
What, I ask again, is this national honor, from which
no sacrifice must be withheld?
The first element of a nation's honor is undoubtedly
justice.  A people, to deserve respect, must lay dowsn
the maxim, as the foundation of its intercourse with
other communities, that justice, - a strict regard to the
rights of other states, - shall take rank of its interests.
A  nation without reverence for right, can never plead




WAR.                    253
in defence of a war, that this is needed to maintain its
honor, for it has no honor to maintain.  It bears a
brand of infamy, which oceans of human blood cannot
wash away.  With these views, we cannot be too much
shocked by the language of a chief magistrate recently
addressed to a legislative body in this country.
" No community of men," he says, 6 in any age or
nation, under any dispensation, political or religious,
has been governed by justice in its negotiations or conflicts with other states.  It is not justice and magnanimity, but interest and ambition, dignified under the
name of State policy, that has governed, and ever will
govern, masses of men acting as political communities.
Individuals may be actuated by a sense of justice; but
what citizen in any country would venture to contend
for justice to a foreign and rival community, in opposition to the prevailing policy of his state, without forfeiting the character of a patriot? "
Now, if this be true of our country, and to our own
country it was applied, then, I say, we have no honor
to fight for. A people systematically sacrificing justice
to its interests, is essentially a band of robbers, and
receives but the just punishment of its profligacy in the
assaults of other nations. But it is not true that nations
are so dead to moral principles.  The voice of justice
is not always drowned by the importunities of interest;
nor ought we, as citizens, to acquiesce in an injurious
act, on the part of our rulers, towards other states, as
if it were a matter of course, a necessary working of
human selfishness.  It ought to be reprobated as indignantly as the wrongs of private men.  A people strictly
just has an honor independent of opinion, and to which
opinion must pay homage. Its glory is purer and more
VOL. IV.              22




254                      WAR.
enduring than that of a thousand victories.  Let not
him who prefers for his country the renown of military
spirtit and success to that of justice, talk of his zeal
for its honor.  tHe does not know the meaning of the
word.  He belongs to a barbarous age, and desires for
his country no higher praise than has been gained by
many a savage horde.
The next great element of a nation's honor is a spirit
of philanthropy.  A people ought to regard itself as a
member of the human family, and as bound to bear
part in the work of human improvement and happiness.
The obligation of benevolence, belonging to men as
individuals, belongs to them in their associated capacities.  We have indeed no right to form an association
of whatever kind, which severs us from the human race.
I care not though men of loose principles scoff at the
idea of a nation respecting the claims of humanity.
Duty is eternal, and too high for human mockery; and
this duty in particular, so far from being a dream, has
been reduced to practice. Our own country, in framing
its first treaties, proposed to insert an article prohibit.
ing privateering; and this it did in the spirit of human-,
ity to diminish the crimes and miseries of war. England, from philanthropy, abolished the slave trade and
slavery. No nation stands alone; and each is bound
to consecrate its influence to the promotion of equitable,
pacific, and beneficent relations among all countries,
and to the diffusion of more liberal principles of intercourse and national law.  This country is intrusted by
God with a mission for humanity.  Its office is to commend to all nations free institutions, as the sources of
public prosperity and personal dignity; and I trust we
desire to earnn the thanks and honor of nations by fidelity




WA&&                     255
to our trust.  A  people reckless of the interest of the
world, and profligately selfish in its policy, incurs far
deeper disgrace than by submission to wrongs; and
whenever it is precipitated into war by its cupidity, its
very victories become monument' of its guilt, and deserve the execration of present and coming times.
I now come to another essential element of a nation's
honor; and that is, the existence of institutions which
tend, and are designed, to elevate all classes of its citizens. As it is the improved character of a people which
alone gives it an honorable place in the world, its
dignity is to be measured chiefly by the extent and efficiency of its provisions and establishments for national
improvel-ent, -for spreading education flar and wide, -
for purifying morals and refining manners, -for enlightening the ignorant and succouring the miserable, —for
building up intellectual and moral power, and breathing
the spirit of true religion.'The degree of' aid given to
the individual in every condition, for unfolding his best
powers, determines the rank of a nation.  Mere wealth
adds nothing to a people's glory; it is the nation's soul
which constitutes its greatness.  Nor is it enough for a
country to possess a select class of educated, cultivated
men; for the nation consists of the many, not the few;
and where the mass are sunk in ignorance and sensuality; there you see a degraded community, even though
an aristocracy of science be lodged in its bosom. It is the
moral and intellectual progress of the people, to which
the patriot should devote himself as the only dignity
and safeguard of the state.  How needed this truth!
In  all ages, nations have imagined that they were
glorifying themselves by triumphing over foreign foes,
whilst at homle they have been denied every ennobling




256                     WAR.
institution; have been trodden- under foot by tyranny,
defrauded of the most sacred rights of humanity,'enslaved by superstition, buried in ignorance, and cut off
fiom all the means of rising to the dignity of men.
They have thought that they were exalting themselves,
in fighting for the very despots, who ground them in the
dust.  Such has been the common notion of national
honor; nor is it yet effaced.  How many among ourselves are unable to stifle their zeal for our honor as
a people, who never spent a thought on the institutions and improvements which ennoble a community,
and whose character and examples degrade and taint
their country, as far as their influence extends?
I have now given you the chief elements of national
honor; and a people cherishing these can hardly be
compelled to resort to war. I shall be told, however,
that an enlightened and just people though less exposed to hostilities, may still be wronged, insulted, and
endangered; and I shall be asked, if in such a case its
honor do not require it to repel injury, -if submission
be not disgrace?  I answer, that a nation which submits to wrong from timidity, or a sorbid love of ease
or gain, forfeits its claim to respect.  A faint-hearted,
self-indulgent people, cowering under menace, shrinking from peril, and willing to buy repose by tribute or
servile concession, deserves the chains which it cannot
escape. But to bear much and long from a principle
of humanity, from reverence for the law of love, is noble; and nothing but moral blindness and degradation
induce men to see higher glory in impatience of injury
and quickness to resent.
Still I may be asked, whether a people, however forbearing, may not sometimes owe it to its own dign;ty




WAIL                     257
and safety to engage in war?  I answer, yes.  When
the spirit of justice, humanity, and forbearance, instead
of spreading peace, provokes fresh outrage, this outrage
must be met and repressed by force.  I know that many
sincere Christians oppose to this doctrine the precept of
Christ, "1 Resist not evil." But Christianity is wronged
and its truth exposed to strong objections, when these
and the like precepts are literally construed. The whole
legislation of Christ is intended to teach us the spirit
from which we should act, not to lay down rules for outward conduct.  The precept, 1G Resist not evil," if
practised to the letter, would annihilate all government in
the family and the state; for it is the great work of government to resist evil passions and evil deeds.  It is indeed our duty, as Christians, to love our worst enemy,
and to desire his true good; but we are to love not only
our enemy, but our families, friends, and country, and to
take a wise care of our own rights and happiness; and
when we abandon to the violence of a wrong-doer these
fellow-beings, and these rights, commended by God to
our love and care, we are plainly wanting in that expanded benevolence which Christianity demands.  A
nation, then, may owe it to its; welfare and dignity to engage in war; and its honor dlemiands that it should-rmeet
the trial with invincible resolutionl.  it ought, at such a
mroment, to dismiss all fear, except the fear of its own
passions, -- the fear of the crimes to which the exasperations and sore temptations of public hostilities expose:
a state.
I have admitted that a nation's hlonor inay require its
citizens to engage in war; but it re.quires thenm to engage ill it wxisely, --- with a full conSsc ioutsness of rectitude
snd with unfeigned -sorrow.  On no other conditions
22 




2598                     WA
does war comport with national dignity; and these deserve a moment's attention.  A people must engage in
war wisely; for rashness is dishonorable, especially in
so solemn and tremendous a concern.  A nation must
propose a wise end in war; and this remark is the more
important, because the end or object which, according
to common speech, a people is bound by its honor to
propose, is generally disowned by wisdom. How comH
mnon it is to hear, that the honor of a nation requires it
to seek redress of grievances, —reparation of injuries.
Now, as a general rule, war does not and cannot repair
injuries.  Instead of securing  compensation for past
evils, it almost always multiplies them.  As a general
rule, a nation loses incomparably more by war than it has
previously lost by the wrong-doer.  Suppose, for examrpie, a people to have been spoiled by another state of
"five millions of dollars.'"  To recover this by war, it
mnust expend fifty or a hundred millions more, and will,
almost certainly, come forth from  the contest burdened
with debt.  Nor is this all.  It loses more than wealth.
It loses many lives.  Now, life and property are not to
ba balanced against each other.  If a nation, by slaying
a single innocent man, could possess itself of the wealth
of worlds, it would have no right to destroy him for that
cause alone.  A human being cannot be valued by silver
and gold; and, of consequence, a nation can never be
authorized to sacrifice or expose thousands of lives, for
the mere recovery of property of which it has been
spoiled.  To secure compensation for the past, is very
seldom  a sufficient object for war.  The true end is,
security for the future. An injury inflicted by one nation
on another, may manifest a lawless, hostile spirit, firom
which, if unresisted, future and increasing outrages are




WAR.                     259
to be feared, which would embolden other communities
in wrong-doing, and against which neither property, nor
life, nor liberty, would be, secure.  To protect a state
from this spirit of violence and unprincipled aggression,
is the duty of rulers; and protection may be found only
in war.  Here is the legitimate occasion and the true
end of an appeal to arms.  Let me ask you to apply
this rule of wisdom to a case, the bearings of which
will be easily seen.  Suppose, then, an injury to have
been inflicted on us by a foreign nation a quarter of a
century ago.  Suppose it to have been inflicted by a
government which has fallen through its lawlessness, antd
which can never be restored.  Suppose this injury to
have been followed, during this long period, by not one
hostile act, and not one sign of a hostile spirit.  Suppose a disposition to repair it to be expressed by the
head of the new government of the injurious nation;
and suppose further, that our long endurance has not exposed us to a single insult from  any other power since
the general pacification of Europe.  Under these circumstances, can it be pretended, with any show of reason, that threatened wrong, or that future security, requires us to bring upon ourselves and the other nation
the horrors and miseries of war?  [Does not wisdom
join with humanity in reprobating such a conflict?
I have said that the honor of a nation requires it to
engage in a war for a wise end.  I add, as a more inra
portant rule, that its dignity demands of it to engage in
no conflict without a full consciousness of rectitude.  i.
must not appeal to arms for doubtful rights.  It must
not think it enough to establish a probable claim.  The
true principle for a nation, as for an individual, is, that it
will suffer rather than do wrong.  It should prefer being




260                     WAA.
injured to the hazard of doing injury.  To secure to
itself this full consciousness of rectitude, a nation should
always desire to refer its disputes to an impartial umpire.
It cannot too much distrust its own judgment in its own
cause.  That same selfish partiality which blinds the individual to the claims of a rival or foe, and which has
compelled society to substitute public and disinterested
tribunals for private war, disqualifies nations, more or
less, to determine their own rights, and should lead them
to seek a more dispassionate decision.  The great idea
which should rise to the mind of a country on meditating
war, is rectitude. In declaring war, it should listen only
to the voice of duty.  To resolve on the destruction of
our fellow-creatures without a command from conscience,
-  a commission from God, -  is to bring on a people a
load of infamy and crime.  A nation, in declaring war,
should be lifted above its passions by the fearfulness and
solemnity of the act.  It should appeal with unfeigned
confidence to Heaven and earth for its uprightness of purpose.  It should go forth as the champion of truth and
justice, as the minister of God, to vindicate and sustain
that great moral and national law, without which life has no
security, and social improvements no defence. It should
be inspired with invincible courage, not by its passions,
but by the dignity and holiness of its cause.  Nothing in
the whole compass of legislation is so solemn as a declaration of war.  By nothing do a people incur such tree
mendous responsibility.  Unless justly waged, war involves a people in the guilt of murder.  The state
which, without the command of justice and God, sends
out fleets and armies to slaughter fellow-creaturles must
answer for the blood it sheds, as truly as the assassin for
the death of his victim.  Oh, how  loudly does the




WAR.                    261
voice of blood cry to Heaven from the field of battle,
Undoubtedly, the men whose names have come down to
us with the loudest shouts of ages, stand now before the
tribunal of eternal justice condemned as murderers; and
the victories which have been thought to encircle a nation with glory, have fixed the same brand on multitudes
in the sight of the final and Almighty Judge. I-Iow essential is it to a nation's honor that it should engage in
war with a full conviction of rectitude!
But there is one more condition of an honorable war.
A nation should engage in it with unfeigned sorrow. It
should beseech the throne of grace with earnest supplication, that the dreadful office of destroying fellow-beings
may not be impose'd on it.  War concentrates all the
varieties of human misery, and a nation which can inflict these without sorrow, contracts deeper infamy than
from  cowardice.  It is essentially barbarous; and will
be looked back upon by more enlightened and Christian
ages, with the horror with which we recall the atrocities
of savage tribes. Let it be remembered that the calamities of war. its slaughter, famine, and desolation, instead
of being confined to its criminal authors, fall chiefly on
multitudes who have had no share in provoking and no
voice in proclaiming it; and let not a nation talk of its
honor, which has no sympathy with these woes, which
is steeled to the most terrible sufferings of humanity.
I have now  spoken, my friends, of the sentiments
with which war should be regarded.  Is it so regarded?
When recently the suggestion of war was thrown out to
this people, what reception did it meet? Was it viewed
at once in the light in which a Christian nation should
immediately and most earnestly consider it? Was it
Teceived as a proposition to slaughter thousands of our




262                     WAR.
fellow-creatures?  Did we feel as if threatened with a
calamity more fearful than earthquakes, famine, or pestilence?  The blight which might fall on our prosperity,
drew attention; but the thought of devoting as a people,
our power and resources to the destruction of mankind,
of those whom  a common nature, whom  reason, conscience, and Christianity command us to love and save,'did this thrill us with horror? Did the solemn inquiry
break forth through our land, is the dreadfil necessity
indeed laid upon us to send abroad death and woe? No.
There was little manifestation of the sensibility with
which men and Christians should look such an evil in the
face.  As a people, we are still seared and blinded to
the crimes and miseries of war.  The principles of
honor, to which the barbarism and infatuation of dark
ages gave birth, prevail among us.  The generous, merciful spirit of our religion is little understood. The law
of love preached from the cross and written in the blood
of the Saviour, is trampled on by public men.  The
true dignity of man, which consists in breathing and
cherishing God's spirit of justice and philanthropy
towards every human being, is counted folly in comparison with that spirit of vindictiveness and self-aggrandize.ment, which turns our earth into an image of the abodes
of the damned. How long will the friends of humanity,
of religion, of Christ, silently, passively, uncomplainingly, suffer the men of this world, the ambitious, vindictive, and selfish, to array them  against their brethren
in conflicts which they condemn and abhor? Shall not
truth, humanity, and the mild and holy spirit of Christianity, find a voice to rebuke and awe the wickedness
which precipitates nations into war, and to startle and
awaken nations to their fearful responsibility in taking




WAR.                    263
arms against the children of their Father in heaven?
Prince of Peace! Saviour of men! speak in thine
own voice of love, power, and fearful warning; and redeem the world for which thou hast died, from lawless
and cruel passions, from the spirit of rapine and murder
from the powers of darkness-and hell!








MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
DISCOURSE
DELIVERED
BEFORE THE BENEVOLENT FRATERNITY OF CHURCH1ES,
BOSTON, APRIL 9, 1835.
LUK.E iv. 18: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he
hath anointed me to preach the Gospel to the poor."
WaTF are met together on the first anniversary of the
Benevolent Fraternity of Churches, an institution formed for the purpose of providing a ministry for the poor,
and of thus commuinicating moral and spiritual blessings
to the most destitute portion of the community.  We
may well thank God for living in a state of' society, in
which such a design finds cordial support.  We should
rejoice in this token of human progress.  MIan has always felt for the outward wants and sufferings of man.
This institution shows, that he is alive to the higher capacities, the deeper cravings of his fellow-beings.  This
institution is one of the forms in which the spirit of
Christianity is embodied, a spirit of reverence and love
for the human soul, of sympathy with its fall, of intense
desire for its redemption.
VOL. IV.              23




266            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
On this occasion there is but one topic of which I can
speak, and that is the claims of the poor as Moral, Spiritual beings; and it is a topic on which I enter with a
consciousness of insufficiency. The claims of outward
and worldly things I can comprehend.  I can look
through wealth, pomp, rank.  I can meet unmoved the
most imposing forms of earthly dignity; but the immortal principle in the heart of the poorest human being, I
approach with awe.  There I see a mystery in which
my faculties are lost.  I see an existence, before which
the duration of the world and the outward heavens is a
span. I say that I see it. I am not surrendering myself to imagination; I have a consciousness of truth, or
rather a consciousness of falling beneath the truth.  I
feel, then, my incompetency to be just to this subject.
But we must do what we can. No testimony, however
feeble, if lifted up in sincerity in behalf of great principles, is ever lost.  Through weak man, if sanctified
by a simple, humble love of truth, a higher power
than man's is pleased to work.  May that power overshadow us, and work within us, and open every soul to
truth.
To awaken a Spiritual interest in the poor, this is my
object.  I wish not to diminish your sympathy with
their outward condition; I would increase it. But their
physical sufferings are not their chief evils.  The great
calamity of the poor is not their poverty, understanding
this word in the usual sense, but the tendency of their
privations, and of their social rank, to degradation of
mind.  Give them  the Christian spirit, and their lot
would not be intolerable.  Remove froml them the misery which they bring on themselves by evil-doing, and
separate from their inevitable sufferings the aggravations




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           267
which come from crime, and their burden would be light
compared with what now oppresses them.
The outward condition of the poor is a hard one.  I
mean not to criticize it with the apathy of the stoic, to
deny that pain is an evil, privation a loss of good.  But
when I compare together different classes as existing at
this moment in the civilized world, I cannot think the
difference between the rich and the poor, in regard to
mere physical suffering, so great as is sometimes imagined.  That some of the indigent among us die of scanty
food, is undoubtedly true; but vastly more in this community die from eating too much, than from eating too
little; vastly more from excess, than starvation.  So as
to clothing, many shiver from want of defences against
the cold; bhut there. is vastly more suffering among the
rich from  absurd and criminal modes of dress, which
fashion has sanctioned, than among the poor from deficiency of raiment. Our daughters are oftener brought
to the grave by their rich attire, than our beggars by
their nakedness.  So the poor are often over-worked,
but they suffer less than many among the rich who have
no work to do, no interesting object to fill up life, to
satisfy the infinite cravings of man for action.  According to our presentnmodes of education, how nmany of our
daughters are victims of ennui, a misery unknown to the
poor, and more intolerable than the weariness of excessive toil!  The idle young man spending the day in exhibiting his person in the street, ought not to excite the
envy of the overtasked poor, and this cumberer of the
ground is found exclusively amcng the rich.
I repeat it, the condition of the poor deserves sympathy; but let us not, by exaggeration of its pains, turn
away our minds fromnthe great inward sources of their




268            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
misery.  In this city, the condition of a majority of the
indigent is such as would be thought eligible elsewhere.
Insure to a European peasant an abundance of wheaten
bread through every season of the year, and he would
bless his easy lot.  Among us, many a poor family, if
doomed to live on bread, would murmur at its hard fare;
and accordingly the table of the indigent is daily spread
with.condiments and viands hardly known in the cottage
of the transatlantic laborer. The Greenlander and Laplander dwelling in huts and living on food compared
with which the accommodations of our poor are abundant,
are more than content.  They would not exchange their
wastes for our richest soils and proudest cities.  It is
not, then, the physical suffering of the poor, but their
relation to the rest of society, the want of means of inward life, the degrading influences of their position, to
which thei'r chief misery is to be traced.
Let not the condition of the poor be spoken of as necessarily wretched.  Give them the Christian spirit, and
they would find in their lot the chief elements of good.
For example, the domestic affections may and do grow
up among the poor, and these are to all of us the chief
springs of earthly happiness.  And it deserves consideration, that the poor have their advantages as well as disadvantages in respect to domestic ties.  Their narrow
condition obliges them to do more for one another, than
is done among the rich; and this necessity, as is well
known, sometimes gives a vigor and tenderness to the
love of parents and children, brothers and sisters, not
always found in the luxurious classes, where wealth destroys this mutual dependence, this need of mutual help.
Nor let it be said, that the poor cannot enjoy domestic
happiness for want of the means of educating their chilb




atN1ISTY FoRt T1IE POOR.         269
dren.  A sound moral judgment is of more value in education, than all wealth and all talent.  For want of this,
the children of men of genius and opulence are often the
worst trained in the community; and if, by our labors,
we can communicate this moral soundness to the poor,
we shall open among them the fountain of the only pure
domestic felicity.
In this country, the poor might enjoy the most important advantages of the rich, had they the moral and religious cultivation consistent with their lot.  Books find
their way into every house, however mean; and especially that book which contains more nutriment for the intellect, imagination, and heart, than all others; I mean,
of course, the Bible.  And I am confident, that among
the poor are those, who find in that one book, more enjoyment, more awakening truth, more lofty and-beautiful
imagery, more culture to the whole soul, than thousands of
the educated find in their general studies, and vastly more
than millions among the rich find in that superficial, transitory literature, which consumes all their reading hours.
Even the pleasures of a refined taste are not denied
to the poor, but might easily be opened to them  by a
wise moral culture.  True, their rooms are not lined
with works of art; but the living beauty of nature opens
on the eyes of all her children; and we know from the
history of self-educated genius, that sometimes the inhabitant of a hovel, looking out on the serene sky, the illumined cloud, the setting sun, has received into his rapt
spirit, impressions of divine majesty and loveliness, to
which the burning words of poetry give but faint utterance.  True, the rich may visit distant scenery, and
feed their eyes on the rarest and most stupendous manifestations of creative power; but the earth and common
23




270            MINISTRY FORl THE POOR.
sky reveal, in some of their changeful aspects, a grandeur as awful as Niagara or the Andes; and nothing is
wanting to the poor man in his ordinary walks, but a
more spiritual eye to discern a beauty which has never
yet been embodied in the most inspired works of sculpture or painting.
Thus for the poor, as for all men, there are provisions
for happiness; and it deserves remark, that their happiness has a peculiar dignity.  It is more honorable to be
content with few outward means, than with many; to be
cheerful amidst privation, than amidst overflowing plenty~
A poor man, living on bread and water, because he will
not ask for more than bare sustenance requires, and leading a quiet, cheerful life through his benevolent sympathies, his joy in duty, his trust in God, is one of the true
heroes of the race, and understands better the meaning
of happiness, than we, who cannot be at ease unless we
clothe ourselves " in purple, and fare sumptuously every
day," unless we surround, defend, and adorn ourselves
with all the products of nature and art.  HIis scantiness
of outward means is a sign of inward fulness, whilst the
slavery in which most of us live, to luxuries and accommodations, shows the poverty within.
l  have given the fair side of the poor man's lot.  I
have shown the advantages placed within his reach; but
I do not therefore call. him happy.  His advantages are
too commonly lost through want of inward culture. The
poor are generally wretched, with many means of good.
Think not that I mean to throw one false color on their
actual state.  It is miserable enough to awaken deep
sympathy; but their misery springs not so much from
physical causes, which cannot be withstood, as from
moral want.  The moral influences of their condition,




MINISTRY FOR ITH-E POOR.          27 
of their rank in society, of their connexion with other
classes, these are more terrible than hunger or cold,
and to these I desire to turn your chief regard.
What, then, are the moral influences of poverty, its
influences on character, which deserve our chief attention? As one of its most fatal effects, I would observe,
in the first place, that it impairs, often destroys, selfrespect.  I know, and rejoice to know, that the institutions of this country do much to counteract this influx
ence of poverty; but still it exists and works frequent
debasement.  It is hard for any of us to interpret justly
our own nature, and how peculiarly hard for the poor!
Uninstructed in the import and dignity of their rational
and moral powers, they naturally measure themselves
by their outward rank. Living amidst the worshippers
of wealth, they naturally feel as if degraded by the want
of it. They read in the looks, tones, and manners of
the world, the evidences of being regarded as an inferior race, and want inward force to repel this cruel, disheartening falsehood.  They hear the word respectable
confined to other conditions, and the word loiw applied
to their own.  Now, habitual subjection to -slight or
contempt, is crushing to the spirit.  It is exceedingly
hard for a human being to comprehend and appreciate
himself, amidst outward humiliation. There is no greater man than he who is true to himself, when all around
deny and forsake him. Can we wonder that the poor,
thus abandoned, should identify themselves with their
lot; that in their rags they should see the sign of inward
as well as outward degradation?
Another cause which blights their self-respect, is
their dependence for pecuniary aid.  It is hard to ask
alms and retain an erect mind.   Dependence breeds




272             MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
servility, and he who has stooped to another cannot be
just to himself.  The want of self-respect is a preparation for every evil.  Degraded in their own and others'
esteem, the poor are removed from the salutary restraint
of opinion; and having no caste to lose, no honor to
forfeit, often abandon themselves recklessly to the grossest vice.
2. The condition of the poor is unfriendly to the
action and unfolding of the intellect, a sore calamity
to a rational being.  In most men, indeed, the intellect
is narrowed by exclusive cares for the body.  In most,
the consciousness of its excellence is crushed by the
low uses to which it is perpetually doomed.  But still,
in most, a degree of activity is given to the mind by
the variety and extent of their plans for wealth or subsistence.  The bodily wants of most, carry them  in
a measure into the future, engage them  in enterprises
requiring invention, sagacity, and skill.  It is the unhappiness of the poor, that they are absorbed in immediate wants, in provisions for the passing day, in obtaining the next meal, or in throwing off a present burden.
Accordingly their faculties " live and move," or rather
pine and perish, in the present moment.  Hope and
Imagination, the wings of the soul, carrying it forward
and upward, languish in the poor; for the future is
uninviting.  The darkness of the present broods- over
coming years.  The great idea, which stirs up in othler
men a world of thought, the idea of a better lot, has
almost faded firom the poor man's mind.  He almost
ceases to hope for his children, as well as for himrself.
Even parental love, to many the chief quickener of
the intellect, stagnates thougll despair.  Thlus poverty
starves the mind.




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           273
And there is another way in which it produces this
effect, particularly worthy the notice of this assembly
The poor have no society beyond their own class; that
is, beyond those who are confined to their own narrow
field of thought.  We all know, that it is contact with
other minds, and especially with the more active and
soaring, from  Mwhich the intellect receives its chief impulse. Few of us could escape the paralyzing influence of perpetual intercourse with the uncultivated, sluggish, and narrow-minded; and here we see, what I wish
particularly to bring to view, how the poor suffer from
the boasted civilization of our times, which is built so
much on the idea of Property.  In communities little
advanced in opulence, no impassable barrier separates
different classes, as among ourselves.  The least improved are not thrown to a distance from those, who,
through natural endowment or peculiar excitement, think
more strongly than the rest; and why should such division exist anywhere?  How cruel and unchristian are
the pride and prejudice which form  the enlightened
into a caste, and leave the ignorant and depressed to
strengthen and propagate ignorance and error without
end.
3. I proceed to another evil of poverty, its disastrous influence on the domestic affections. Kindle these
affections in the poor man's hut, and you, give him  the
elements of the best earthly happiness.  But the more
delicate sentiments find much to chill them in the abodes
of indigence.  A family crowded into a single and often
narrow apartment, which must answer at once the ends
of parlour, kitchen, bed-room, nursery, and hospital,
must, without great energy and self-respect, want neatness, order, and comfort.  Its members are perpetually




274            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
exposed to annoying, petty interference. The decencies
of life can be with difficulty observed. Woman, a drudge,
and in dirt, loses her attractions.  The young grow up
without the modest reserve and delicacy of feeling, in
which purity finds so much of its defence. Coarseness
of manners and language, too sure a consequence of a
mode of life which allows no seclusion, becomes the habit
almost of childhood, and hardens the mind for vicious intercourse in future years.  The want of a neat, orderly
home, is among the chief evils of the poor. Crowded
in filth, they cease to respect one another.  The social
affections wither amidst perpetual noise, confusion, and
clashing interests.  In these respects, the poor often
fare worse than the uncivilized.  True, the latter has a
ruder hut, but his habits and tastes lead him to live
abroad. Around him is a boundless, unoccupied nature,
where he ranges at will, and gratifies his passion for
liberty. Hardened from infancy against the elements,
he lives in the bright light and pure air of heaven.  In
the city, the poor man must choose between his close
room, and the narrow street.  The appropriation of almost every spot on earth to private use, and the habits
of society, do not allow him to gather his family, or
meet his tribe, under a spreading tree. He has a home,
without the comforts of home. He cannot cheer it by
inviting his neighbours to share his repast.  He has few
topics of conversation with his wife and children, except their common wants.  Of consequence, sensual
pleasures are the only means of ministering to that craving for enjoyment, which can never be destroyed in human nature.  These pleasures, in other dwellings, are
more or less refined by taste.  The table is spread with
neatness and order; and a decency pervades the meal,




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           275
which shows that man is more than a creature of sense.
The poor man's table strewed with broken food, and
seldom approached with courtesy and self-respect, serves
too often to nourish only a selfish, animal life, and to
bring the partakers of it still nearer to the brute.  I
speak not of what is necessary and universal; for poverty, under sanctifying influences, may find a heaven in
its narrow home; but I speak of tendencies which are
strong, and which only a strong religious influence can
overcome.
4. I proceed to another unhappy influence exerted
on the poor.  They live in the sight and in the midst
of innumerable indulgences and graftifications, which are
placed beyond their reach.  Their connexion with the
affluent, though not close enough for spiritual communication, is- near enough to inflame appetites, desires,
wants, which cannot be satisfied.  From  their cheerless
rooms, they look out on the abodes of luxury.  At their
cold, coarse meal, they hear the equipage conveying
others to tables groaning under plenty, crowned with
sparkling wines, and fragrant with the delicacies of ev.ery
clime. Fainting with toil, they meet others unburdened,
as they think, with a labor or a care.  They feel, that
all life's prizes have fallen to others.  Hence burning
desire. Hence brooding discontent. Hence envy and
hatred.  Hence crime, justified in a measure to their
own minds, by what seem to them the unjust and cruel
inequalities of social life.  Here are some of the miseries of civilization.  The uncivilized man is not exasperated by the presence of conditions happier than his
own.  There is no disproportion between his idea of
happiness and his lot.  Among the poor the disproportion is infinite. You all understand how much we judge




276            MINISTRY FOR THIE POOR.
our lot by comparison.  Thus the very edifices, which
a century ago seemed to our fathers luxurious, seem
now to multitudes hardly comfortable, because surrounded by more commodious and beautiful dwellings.  We
little think of the gloom added to the poor by the contiguity of the rich.  They are preyed on by artificial
wants, which can only be gratified by crime. They are
surrounded  by enjoyments, which fraud or violence
can make their own. Unhappily the prevalent, I had
almost said, the whole spirit of the rich, increases these
temptations of the poor. Very seldom does a distinct,
authentic voice of wisdom come to them from the high
places of society, telling them  that riches are not happiness, and that a felicity which riches cannot buy, is
within reach of all. Wealth-worship is the spirit of the
prosperous, and this is the strongest possible inculcation
of discontent and crime on the poor.  The rich satisfy
themselves with giving alms to the needy.  They think
little of more fatal gifts, which they perpetually bestow.
They think little, that their spirit and lives, their selfindulgence and earthliness, their idolatry of outward
prosperity, and their contempt of inferior conditions,
are perpetually teaching the destitute, that there is but
one good on earth, namely, property, the very good in
which the poor have no share.  They little think, that
by these influences they do much to inflame, embitter,
and degrade the minds of the poor, to fasten them to
the earth, to cut off their communication with Heaven.
5. I pass to another sore trial of the poor.  Whilst
their condition, as we have seen, denies them many
gratifications, which on every side meet their view and
inflame desire, it places within their reach many debasing gratifications.  Human nature has a strong thirst




-MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.          277
for pleasures which excite it above its ordinary tone,
which relieve the monotony of life. This drives the
prosperous from their pleasant homes to scenes of novelty and stirring amusement.  How strongly must it
act on those who are weighed down by anxieties and
privations! How intensely must the poor desire to forget for a time the wearing realities of life! And what
means of escape does society afford or allow them?
What present do civilization and science make to the
poor? Strong drink, ardent spirits, liquid poison, liquid
fire, a type of the fire of hell! In every poor man's
neighbourhood flows a Lethean stream, which laps him
for a while in oblivion of all his humiliations and sorrows!  The power of this temptation can be little understood by those of us, whose thirst for pleasure is regularly supplied by a succession of innocent pleasures,
who meet soothing and exciting objects wherever we
turn.  The uneducated poor, without resource in books,
in their families, in a well-spread board, in cheerful
apartments, in places of fashionable resort, and pressed
down by disappointment, debt, despondence, and exhausting toils, are driven by an impulse dreadfully strong,
to the haunts of intemperance; and there they plunge
into a misery sorer than all the tortures invented by
man. They quench the light of reason, cast off the
characteristics of humanity, blot out God's image as far
as they have power, and take their place among the
brutes.  Terrible misery! And this, I beg you to remember, comes to them  from  the very civilization in
which they live. They are victims to the progress of
science and the arts; for these multiply the poison which
destroys them.  They are victims to the rich; for it is
the capital of the rich, which erects the distillery, and
VOL. Iv.              24




278             MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
surrounds them with temptations to self-murder.  They
are victims to a partial advancement of society, which
multiplies gratifications and allurements, without awakening proportionate moral power to withstand them.
Such are the evils of poverty.  It is a condition,s
which offers many and peculiar obstructions to the developement of intellect and affection, of self-respect and
self-control.  The poor are peculiarly exposed to discouraging views of themselves, of human nature, of human life.  The consciousness of their own intellectual
and moral power slumbers.  Their faith in God's goodness, in virtue, in immortality, is obscured by the darkness of their present lot.  Ignorant, desponding, and
sorely tempted, have they not solemn claims on their
more privileged brethren, for aids which they have
never yet received?
I have thus shown, as I proposed, that the chief
evils of poverty are moral in their origin and character;
and for these I would awaken your concern.  With
physical sufferings we sympathize.  When shall the
greater misery move our hearts?  Is there nothing to
startle us in the fact, that in every large city dwells a
multitude of human beings, falling or fallen into extreme
moral degradation, living in dark, filthy houses, or in
damp, unventilated cellars, where the eye lights on no
beauty and the ear is continually wounded with discord,
where the outward gloom is a type of the darkened
mind, where the name of God is heard ohly when profaned, where charity is known only as a resource for
sloth, where the child is trained amidst coarse manners,
impure words, and the fumes of intemperance, and is
thence sent forth to prowl as a beggar.  From  these
abodes issues a louder, more piercing cry for help and




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           279
strength, than physical want ever uttered. 1 do not mean
that all the poor are such as I have described.  Far
from it.  Among them are the " salt of the earth," the
" lights of the world," the elect of God.  There is no
necessary connexion of poverty and crime. Christianity
knows no distinction of rank, and has proved itself equal
to the wants of all conditions of men.  Still poverty
has tendencies to the moral degradation which I have
described; and to counteract these, should be esteemed
one of the most solemn duties and precious privileges
bequeathed by Christ to his followers.
From the views now given of the chief evils of poverty, it follows, that 5Moral and Religious culture is the
great blessing to be bestowed on the poor.  By this, it
is not intended that their physical condition demands no
aid. Let charity minister, to their pressing wants and
sufferings. But let us bear it in mind, that no charity
produces permanent good, but that which goes beneath
the body, which reaches the mind, which touches the
inward springs of improvement, and awakens some
strength of purpose, some pious or generous emotion,
some self-respect.  That charity is most useful, which
removes obstructions to well-doing and temptations to
evil from the way of the poor, and encourages them to
strive for their own true good. Something, indeed, may
be done for the moral benefit of the indigent by wise
legislation; I do not mean by poor-laws; but by enactrments intended to remove, as far as possible, degrading circumstances from their condition. For example,
the laws should prohibit the' letting of an apartment to
a poor family, which is not tenantable, which cannot but
injure health, which cannot be ventilated, which wants
the necessary means of preventing accumulations of




280            MINISTRY FOR TIE. POOR.
filth. Such ordinances, connected with provisions for
cleansing every alley, and for carrying pure, wholesome
water in abundance to every dwelling, would do not a
little for the health, cleanliness, and self-respect of the
poor; and on these, their moral well-being in no small
degree depends.
Our chief reliance, however, must be placed on more
direct and powerful means than legislation.  The poor
need, and must receive MIoral and Religious Culture,
such as they have never yet enjoyed.  I say Culture;
and I select this term, because it expresses the developement of Inward Principles; and without this, nothing effectual can be done for rich or poor. Unhappily,
religion has been, for the most part, taught to the poor
mechanically, superficially, as a tradition.  It has been
imposed on them as a restraint, or a form; it has been
addressed to the senses, or to the sensual imagination,
and not to the higher principles.  An outward hell, or
an outward heaven, has too often been the highest motive brought to bear on their minds.  But something
more is wanted; a deeper work, an inward culture, the
developement of the reason, the conscience, the affections, and the moral will.  True religion is a life unfolded within, not something forced on us from abroad.
The poor man needs an elevating power within, to resist
the depressing tendencies of his outward lot.  Spiritual.
culture is the only effectual service we can send him,
and let his misery plead with us to bestow it to the extent of our power.
Had I time, I might show that moral and religious
principles, as far as they are strengthened in the breasts
of the poor, meet all the wants and evils which have
now been portrayed; that they give them: force to bear




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.            281
up against all the adverse circumstances of their lot, inspire them with self-respect, refine their manners, give
impulse to their intellectual powers, open to them. the
springs of domestic peace, teach them to see without
murmuring, the superior enjoyments of others, and rescue them from the excesses into which multitudes are
driven by destitution and despair.  But these topics are
not only too extensive, but are to a degree familiar,
though by no means felt as they should be.  I conceive
that I shall better answer the purpose of awakening a
spiritual interest in this class of society, by confining
myself to a single point, by showing, that the A'foral and
Religious Culture which I claim  for the poor, is the
highest cultivation which a human being can receive.
We are all of us, I fear, blinded on this subject, by the
errors and prejudices of our own education.  We are
apt to imagine, that the only important culture of a human being comes from libraries, literary institutions, and
elegant accomplishments; that is, from means beyond
the reach of the poor.  Advantages offered by wealth
seem to us the great, and essential means of bringing
forward the human mind.  Perhaps we smile at hearing
the word cultivation applied to the poor.  The best
light which their condition admits, seems darkness compared with the knowledge imparted by our seminaries of
learning; and the highest activity of mind to which they
can be excited, is scornfully contrasted with what is
called forth in their superiors by works of philosophy
and genius. There is, among not a few, a contemptuous
estimate of the culture which may be extended to the
poor, of the good which they are capable of receivingand hence, mtuchl of the prevalent indifference as to furnishing them the means of spiritual growth. Now this is
O4 A




282            MIJNISTRY FOR THE POOR.
a weak and degrading prejudice. I affirm, that tie highest:culture is open alike to rich and poor.  I affirm, that
the rich may extend their most precious acquisitions to
the poor.  There is nothing in indigence to exclude the
noblest improvements.  The impartial Father designs
his best gifts for all. Exclusive good, or that which only
a few can enjoy, is comparatively worthless.  Essential
good, is the most freely diffused. It is time to put away
our childish notions as to human improvement; it is time
to learn, that advantages which are a monopoly of the
few, are not necessary to the developement of human
nature, that the soul grows best by helps which are.
accessible to all.
The truth is, that there is no cultivation of the human
being, worthy of the name, but that which begins and
ends with the Moral and Religious nature.  No other
teaching can make a JMan.  We are striving, indeed, to
develope the soul almost exclusively by intellectual
stimulants and nutriment, by schools and colleges, by
accomplishments and fine arts.  We are hoping to form
men and women by literature and science; but all in
vain.  We shall learn in time that moral and religious
culture is the foundation and strength of all true cultivation; that we are deforming human nature by the means
relied on for its growth, and that the poor who receive a
care which awakens their consciences and moral sentic
ments, start under happier auspices than the prosperous,
who place supreme' dependence on the education of the
intellect and the taste.
It is common to measure the' cultivation of men by
their knowledge; and this is certainly an important element and means of improvement.  But knowledge is
various, differing in different men according to the obh



MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           283
jects which most engage their minds; and by these
objects its worth must be judged.  It is not the extent,
but the kind of knowledge, which determines the measure of cultivation.  In truth, it is foolish to talk of any
knowledge as extensive. The most eminent philosopher
is of yesterday, and knows nothing.  Newton felt that
he had gathered but a few pebbles on the shores of a
boundless ocean.  The moment we attempt to penetrate
a subject, we learn that it has unfathomable depths. The
known is a sign of the infinite unknown.  Every discovery conducts us to an abyss of darkness.  In every
thing, from the grain of sand to the stars, the wise man
finds mysteries, before which his knowledge shrinks into
nothingness.  It is the kind, not the extent of knowledge, by which the advancement of a human being must
be measured; and that kind which alone exalts a man,
is placed within the reach of all.  Moral and Religious
Truth, this is the treasure of the intellect, and all are
pooi without it.  This transcends physical truth, as far
as mind transcends matter, or as heaven is lifted above
earth.  Indeed, physical science parts with its chief
dignity, when separated from morals; when it is not
used to shadow forth, confirm, and illustrate spiritual
truth.
The true cultivation of a human being, consists in
the developement of great moral ideas; that is) the
Ideas of God, of Duty, of Right, of Justice, of Love,
of Self-sacrifice, of f'Moral Perfection as manifested in
Christ, of Happiness, of Immortality, of Heaven.  The
elements or germs of these ideas, belong to every soul,
constitute its essence, and are intended for endless ex-s
pansion.  These are the chief distinctions of our nature; they constitute our humanity.  To unfold these




284             MfNINSTY FOR THE POO0.
is the great work of our being.  The Light in whicL
these ideas rise on the mind, the Love which they
awaken, and the Force of Will with which they are
brought to sway the outward and inward life, here and
here only, are the measures of human cultivation.
These views.show us, that the highest culture is within the reach of the poor.  It is not knowledge poured
on us from abroad, but the developement of the elementary principles of the soul itself, which constitutes the
true growth of a human being.  Undoubtedly, knowledge from abroad is essential to the awakening of these
principles.  But that which conduces most to this end,
is offered alike to rich and poor.  Society and Experience, Nature and Revelation, cur chief moral and religious teachers, and the great quickeners of the soul, do
not open their schools to a few favorites, do not initiate
a small caste into their mysteries, but are ordained by
God to be lights and blessings to all.
The highest culture, I repeat it, is in reach of the
poor, and is sometimes attained by them.  Without science, they are often wiser than the philosopher.  The
astronomer disdains then), but they look above his stars,
The geologist disdains them, but they look deeper than
the earth's centre; they penetrate their own souls, and
find there mightier, diviner elements, than upheaved continents attest.  In other words, the great ideas of wnlch
I have spoken, may be, and often are, runfolde-d more in
the poor man tha.n armong the learned or renowned; and:
in this case the poor man is the most cultivated.  For
example, take the idea of justice. Suppose a nmran, eminent for acquisitions of knowledge, but in whom  this
idea is but faintly developed.  By justice he understands little more than respect for the rights of property.




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.            285
That it means respect for all the rights, and especially
for the moral claims, of every human being, of the lowest as well as most exalted, has perhaps never entered
his mind, much less been expanded and invigorated into
a broad, living conviction. Take now the case of a
poor man, to whom, under Christ's teaching, the idea of
the Just has become real, clear, bright, and strong; who
recognises, to its full extent, the right of property,
though it operates against himself; but who does not
stop here; who comprehends the higher rights of men
as rational and moral beings, their right to exercise and
unfold all their powers, their right to the means of improvement, their right to search for truth and to utter
their honest convictions, their right to consult first the
monitor in their own breasts and to follow wherever it
leads, their right to be esteemed and honored according
to their moral efforts, their right, when injured, to sympathy and succour against every'oppressor. Suppose, I
say, the poor man to rise to the comprehension of this
enlarged justice, to revere it, to enthrone it over his actions, to render to every human being, friend or foe,
near or far off, whatever is his due, to abstain conscientiously, not only from injurious deeds, but from injurious
thoughts, judgments, feelings, and words.  Is he not a
more cultivated man, and has he not a deeper foundation
and surer promise of truth, than the student, who, with
much outward knowledge, does not comprehend men's
highest rights, whose scientific labors are perhaps degraded by injustice towards his rivals, who, had he power,
would fetter every intellect which threatens to outstrip
his own?
The great idea on which human cultivation especially
depends, is that of God.  This is the concentration of




2&6             MINIS'RY FOR THE POOR.
all that Is beautiful, glorious, holy, blessed.  It transcends immeasurably in worth and dignity all the science
treasured up in cyclopedias or libraries; and this may be
unfolded in the poor as truly as in the rich.  It is not an
idea to be elaborated by studies, which can be pursued
only in leisure or by opulence.  Its elements belong to
every soul, and are especially to be found in our moral
nature, in the idea of duty, in the feeling of reverence,
in the approving sentence which wte pass on virtue, in
our disinterested affections, and in the wants and aspirations which carry us toward the Infinite.  There is but
one way of unfolding these germs of' tile idea of God,
and that is, faithfulness to the best convictions of duty
and of the Divine Will, which we have hitherto gained.
God is to be known by obedience, by likeness, by sympathy, that is, by moral means, which are open alike to
rich and poor.  Many a man of science has not known
him. The pride of science, like a thick cloud, has
hidden from the philosopher the Spiritual Sun, the only
true light, and for want of this quickening ray, he has
fallen in culture far, very far, below the poor.
These remarks have been drawn from  me by the
proneness of our times to place lhuman culture in physical knowledge, and especially in degrees of it denied to
the mnass of the people.  To this knowledge Iwould on
no account deny great value.  In its place, it is an irnportant means of human improvement.  I look with admiration on the intellectual force, which  combines and
masters scattered facts, and by analysis and comparison
ascends to the general laws of the material universe.
But the philosopher, who does not see in the force witbh
in him, something nobler than the outward nature which
he analyzes, who, in tracing mechanical and chemical




MINIS'PY FOR'THE PooR.           287
a.gencies, is unconscious of a higher action in Ills own
soul, who is not led by all finite powers to the Omnlpotent, and who does not catch, in the order and beauty
of the universe, some glimpses of Spiritual Perfection,
slops at the very threshold of the temple of truth. Miserably narrow is the culture which confines the soul to
Matter, which turns it to the Outward as to something
nobler than itself.  I fear, the spirit of science, at the
present day, is too often a degradation rather than the
true culture of the soul.  It is the bowing down of the
heaven-born spirit before unthinking mechanism.   It
seeks knowledge, rather for animal, transitory purposes,
than for the nutriment of the imperishable inward life;
and yet the worshippers of science pity or conternn the
poor, beca'use denied this means of cultivation.  Unhappy poor! shut out from libraries, laboratories, and learned institutes! In view of this world's wisdom, it avails
you nothing, that your own nature, manifested in your
own and other souls, that God's word and works, that
the ocean, earth, and sky, are laid open to you; that you'
may acquaint yourselves with the Divine Perfections,
with the character of Christ, with the duties of life, with
the virtues, the generous sacrifices, and the beautiful and
holy emotions, which are a revelation and pledge of
heaven.  All these are nothing, do not lift you to the
rank of cultivated men, because the mysteries of the telescope and microscope, of the air-pump and crucible,
are not revealed to you!  I would they were revealed
to you.  I believe the time is comning when Christian
benevolence will delight in spreading all truth and all refinements through all ranks of society.  But meanwhile
be not discouraged.  One ray of moral and religious
truth is worth all the wisdom of the schools.  One les



288            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
son from Christ will carry you higher than years of
study under those who are too enlightened to follow this
celestial guide.
Mly hearers, do not contemn the poor man for his ignorance.  Has he seen the Right?  Has he felt the
binding force of the Everlasting Moral Law?  Has the
beauty of virtue, in any of its forms, been revealed to
him?  Then he has entered the highest school of wisdom.  Then a light has dawned within him, worth all
the physical knowledge of all worlds.  It almost moves
me to indignation, when I hear the student exalting his
science, which at every step meets impenetrable darkness, above the idea of Duty and above veneration for
goodness and God.  It is true, and ought to be understood, that outward nature, however tortured, probed,
dissected, never reveals truths so sublime or precious,
as are wrapped up in the consciousness of the meanest
individual, and laid open to every eye in the word of
Christ.
I trust it will not be inferred from what I have said of
the superiority of moral and religious culture to physical
science, that the former requires or induces a neglect or
disparagement of the latter.  No, it is the friend of all
truth, the enemy of none.  It is propitious to intellect,
and incites to the investigation of the laws and order of
the universe.  This view deserves a brief illustration,
because an opposite opinion has sometimes prevailed, because reproach has sometimes been thrown on religiois
culture, as if it narrowed the mind and-barred it against
the lights of physical science.  There cannot be a more
groundless charge.  Superstition contracts and darkens
the mind; but that living faith in moral and religious
truth, for which I contend as the highest culture of rich




.MYNIST.Ri FORt. TiE POoR.            39
and poor, is in no respect narrow or exclusive.  It does,not fasten the mind for ever -on a few barren doctrines.
In proportion to its growthl, it cherishes our whole nalure, gives a wide range to thought, opens the intellect to
the true, and the imagination to the beautiful.- The
great principles of moral and religious science, are, above
all others, fruitful, life-giving, and have intimate connexions with all other truth.  The Love towards God and
man, which is the centre in which they meet, is the very
spirit of research into nature.  It finds perpetual delight
hn tracing out the harmonies and vast and beneficent arrangements of creation, and inspires an interest in the
works of the Universal Father, more profound, intense,
enduring, than philosophical curiosity.  I conceive, too,
that faith in moral and religious truth has strong affinities
with the scientific spirit, and thus contributes to its perfection.  Both, for exan'iple, have the same objects, that
is, universal truths.  A.s another coincidence, I would
observe, that it is the highest prerogative of scientific
genius, to interpret obscure signs, to dart from faint hints
to sublime discoveries, to read in a few  fragments the
i)istory of vanished worlds and ages, to detect in the falling apple the law which rules the spheres.  Now it is the
property of moral and religious faith, to see in' the finite:
the manifestation of the Infinite, in the present the germ
of the boundless future, in the visible the traces of the;
Incomprehensible Unseen, in the powers and wants of
the soul its imperishable destiny.  Such is the harmony
between the religious and the philosophical spirit.  It is
to a higher moral and religious culture, that I look for a
higher interpretation of nature.  The laws of nature, we
must remember, had their origin in the Mind (c  God.
Of this they are the product, expression, and type; and
vQOLj Iv.,             25




290            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
I cannot but believe, that the human mind which best
understands, and which partakes most largely of the divine, has a power of interpreting nature, which is accorded to no other.  It has harmonies with the system
which it is to unfold.  It contains in itself the principles
which gave birth to creation.  As yet, science has hardly penetrated beneath the surface of nature.  The principles of animal and vegetable life, of which all organized
beings around us are but varied modifications, the forces
which pervade or constitute matter, and the links between matter and mind, are as yet wrapped in darkness;
and how little is known of the adaptations of the physical
and the spiritual world to one another   Whence is light
to break in on these depths of creative wisdom? I look
for it to the spirit of philosophy, baptized, hallowed, exalted, made piercing by a new culture of the moral and
religious principles of the humani soul.
The topic opens before me as I advance.  The supe-.
riority of moral and religious to all other culture, is confirmed by a throng of arguments not yet touched.  The
peculiar wisdom which this culture gives, by revealing to
us the end, the Ultimate Good of our being, which
nothing else teaches; the peculiar power which it gives,
power over ourselves, so superior to the most entensive
sway over the outward universe; the necessity of moral
and religious culture to make knowledge a blessing, to
save it from being a curse; these are weighty considerations which press on my mind, but cannot be urged.
They all go to show, that the culture which the poor
may receive, is worth all others; that in sending among
them religious and n-doral influences, you send the highest
good of the universe.
SMy friends, I have now set before you the chief evils




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.           29 
of the poor, and have shown you the greatness and dignity of the culture which is within their reach; and the
great conviction, which I wish by these views to carry
home to every mind, is, that we are solemnly bound to
cherish and manifest a strong moral and religious interest
in the poor; and to give them, as far as we have power,
the means of moral and religious cultivation.  Your
sympathies with their bodily wants and pains, I, of
course, would not weaken.  We must not neglect their
bodies under pretence of caring for their souls; nor
must we, on the other hand, imagine, that in providing
for their outward wants, we have acquitted ourselves of
all Christian obligations.  To scatter from our abundance
occasional alms, is not enough; we must bring them  to
our minds as susceptible of deeper evils than hunger and
cold; and as formed for higher goods than food or the
cheering flame.   The love of Christ toward them,
should seem to us no extravagance, no blind enthusiasm,
but a love due to human nature in all its forms.  To
look beyond the outward to the spiritual in man, is the
great distinction of Christian love.  The soul of a fellow-creature must come out, if I may so say, and become more visible and prominent to us than his bodily
frame.  To see and estimate the spiritual nature of the
poor, is greater wisdom than to span earth or heaven.
To elevate this, is a greater work than to build cities.
To give moral life to the fallen, is a higher achievement
than to raise the dead from their graves.  Such is the
philanthropy which characterizes our religion; and without this, we can do little effectual good to the poor.
I am  here teaching a difficult, but great duty.  To
acquire and maintain an unaffected conviction of the superiority of the spiritual in man to every thing outward, is




292             MINISTRY FOR THE: POCO
a hard task, especially to, the prosperous, and yet among:
the most essential:.  In the poor man, walking..through
our streets, with a haggard countenance and tottering
step, we ought to see something greater than all the opulence and splendor which sturround him. On this foundation of respect for every soul, are built all social duties,
and none can be thoroughly performed without it.  On
this point i feel th-at I use no swollen language.  Words
cannot exaggerate the worth of the soul..'We have all
felt when looking above us into the atmosphere, that
there was an infinity of space, xtvlicll we could not explore.  When I look into man's spirit and see there the,
germs of an immortal life, I feel nmore deeply that an infinity lies hid beyond what I see.  In the idea of D)uty,
which springs up in every human heart, I discern a Law
more sacred and boundless than gravitation, which binds
the soul to a more glorious universe than that to -whichl
attraction binds the body, and which is to endure though
the laws of physical nature pass away. Every moral
sentiment, every intellectual action, is to me a hint, a
prophetic sign, of a spiritual power to be expanded for
ever, just as a faint ray from a distant star is significant
of unimaginable splendor.  And if this be true, is not a
human being wronged, greatly wronged, who awakens in
his fellow-creatures no moral concern, who receives fromn
them no spiritual care?
It is the boast of our country, that the civil and
political rights of every hutlan being are secured; that
impartial law  watches alike over rich and poor.  But
man has other, and more important, than civil rights;
and this is especially true of the poor.  To him  who
owns nothing, what avails it that he lives in a country
where property is inviolable;. or what rmighty boon is i




MINISTIRY FOR THIE POOL.         293
to him, that every citizen is eligible to office, when his
condition is an insuperable bar to promotion? To the
poor, as to all men, moral rights are most important;
the right to be regarded according to their nature, to
be regarded, not as animals or material instruments,
but as men; the right to be esteemed and honored,
according to their fidelity to the moral law; and their
right to whatever aids their fellow-beings can offer for
their improvement, for the growth of their highest powers.  These rights are founded on the supremacy of the
moral nature, and until they are recognised the poor are
deeply wronged.
Our whole connexion with the poor should tend to
awaken in them the consciousness of their moral powers
and responsibility, and to raise them in spirit and hope
above their lot. They should be aided to know themselves, by the estimate we form of them.  They should
be rescued from  self-contempt, by seeing others impressed with the great purpose of their being.  We
may call the poor unfortunate, but never call them low.
If faithful to their light, they stand among the high.
They have no superiors, but in those who follow a
brighter, purer light; and to withhold from them respect, is to defraud their virtue of a support, which is
among the most sacred rights of man. Are they morally
fallen and lost?  They should still learn, in our unaffected concern, the worth of the fallen soul, and learn
that nothing seems to us so fearful as its degradation.
This moral, spiritual interest in the poor, we should
express and make effectual, by approaching them, by
establishing an intercourse with them, as far as consists
with other duties.  We must live with them, not as
another race, but as brethren. Our Christian principles
25.




294             MNISTRY FOR THE POOR.
must work a new miracle, must exorcise and expel thi
spirit of caste. The outward distinctions of life must
seem  to us not "a great gulf," but superficial lines,
which the chances of a day may blot out, and which are
broad only to the narrow-minded.  How can the educated and improved communicate themselves to their
less favored fellow-creatures, but by coming near them?
The strengthl, happiness, and true civilization of a commnuity, are determined by nothing more than by this
fiaternal union among all conditions of men.  Without
this, a civil war virtually rages in a state.  For the
sake of rich as well as poor, there should be a mutual
interest binding thern together; there should be but one
caste, that of humanity.
To render this connexion interesting and useful, we
must value and cultivate the power of acting morally on
the poor.  There is no art so divine as that of reaching
and quickening other minds.  Do not tell me you are
unequal to this task.  What! call yourselves educated9and yet want power to approach and aid your unimproved fellow-creatures?  Of what use is education, if
it do not fit us to receive and give freely in our various
social connexions?  How wasted has been our youth,
if it has taught us only the dialect and manners of a select class, and not taught us the language of humanity,
not taught us to mix with and act on the mass of our
fellow-creatures? How far are you raised above the
poor, if you cannot comprehend, guide, or sway themr?
The chief endowment of a social being, I mean the
power of imparting what is true and good in your own
souls, you have yet to learn.  You cannot learn it too
soon.
Yec - call you to seek and use the power of speak



MIXNISTRY FOR THE POOR.         ~95
~1ng to: the mindsi of the ignorant and poor, and especially
of the poor child.  Strive, each of you, to bring at
least one human being to the happiness for which God
made him. Awaken him to some inward moral activ'ty,
for on this, not on mere outward teaching, the improvement; of rich and poor alike depends.  Strive to raise
him  above the crushing necessities of the body, by
turning him  to the great, kindling purpose of his being.  Show him, that the fountain of all happiness is
within us, and that this fountain may be opened alike
in every soul. Show him, how much virtue and peace
he may gain by fidelity to his domestic relations; how
much progress he may make by devout and resolute use
of his best opportunities; what a near union le may
form  with God; how beneficent an influence he may
exert in his narrow sphere; what heroism may be exercised amidst privations and pains; how suffering may
be turned to glory; how heaven may begin in the most
unprosperous condition on earth.  Surely he who can
carry such truths to any human being, is charged with
a glorious mission from above.
In these remarks, I have urged on all who hear me,
a personal interest in the moral well-being of the poor.
I am aware, however, that many can devote but little
personal care to this work.  But what they cannot do
themselves, they can do by others; and this I hold to
be one of our most sacred duties as Christians.  If we
cannot often visit the poor ourselves, we may send
those who are qualified to serve them better.  We call
support ministers to study and apply the means of: enlightening, comforting, reforming, and saving the ignor
rant and depressed.  Every man, whotn God has prospered, is bound to contribute to this work.  The Chris



296            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
tian ministry is indeed a blessing to all, but above all
to the poor. We, who have leisure and quiet homes,
and can gather round us the teachers of all ages in their
writings, can better dispense with the living teacher,
than the poor, who are unused to learn from  books,
and unaccustomed to mental effort, who can only learn
through the eye and ear, through the kind look and
the thrilling voice.  Send them the ministers of God's
truth and grace.  And think not, that this office may
be filled by any who will take it.  There are some I
know, perhaps not a few, who suppose the most common
capacities equal to the Christian ministry in general,
and who, of course, will incline to devolve the office of
teaching the ignorant and destitute on men unfit for
other vocations.  Away with this disgraceful error! If
there be an office worthy of angels, it is that of teaching Christian truth.  The Son of God hallowed it, by
sustaining it in his own person.  All other labors sink
before it.  Royalty is impotence and a vulgar show,
compared with the deep and quickening power, which
many a Christian teacher has exerted on the immortal
soul.  Profound intellect, creative genius, thrilling eloquence, can nowhere find such scope and excitement,
as in the study and communication of moral and religious truth, as in breathing into other minds the wisdom and love which were revealed in Jesus Christ; and
the time will come, when they will joyfully consecrate
themselves to this as their true sphere.  That the ministry of the poor may be sustained by a man wanting
some qualifications for a common congregation, is true;
but he needs no ordinary gifts, a sound judgment, a
clear mind, an insight into human nature, a spirit of
patient research, the power of familiar and striking illus



MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.            297
tration of truth, a glowing heart, an unaffected selfdevotion to the service of mankind.  Such men we are
bound to provide for the poor, if they can be secured.
He who will not contribute to the moral and religious
culture of the destitute, is unworthy to live in Christen.
dorn.  He deserves to be banished beyond the light
which he will not spread.  Let him  deny his religion
if he will; but to believe in it, and yet not seek to impart it to those who carl receive no other treasure, is to
cast contempt on its excellence, and to harden himself
against the most sacred claims of humanity.
Mv friends, it is a cause of gratitude, that so much
has been done in this city to furnish such a ministry
as now has been described.  The poor, I believe, are
provided for here as in no other place in our country.
The Fraternity of Churches, which I address, have in
their service three ministers for this work, and the number, it is expected, will be increased; and we all know
that they have not labored in vain.  Their good influence we cannot doubt.  The cause has been signally
prospered by God.  Since the institution of this ministry, it has not only carried instruction, counsel, reproof,
hope, and moral strength to multitudes, who would otherwise have heard no encouraging voice, would have
met no outward remembrances of Christian duty.  It
has produced in other classes of society still more promising effects.  It has produced a connexion of the rich
with the poor, a knowledge of their real state and wants,
a symlpathy with them, an interest in their well-being,
which are the signs of a lasting improvement in society.
This ministry has not been lifeless machinery.  It has
vitality, earnestness, force.  It does not rest in a round
of regular services, but seeks new means of reaching the




298            MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.
poor.  It particularly seeks to act on the children.  Not
content with gathering them in Sunday-schools, it forms
congregations of them  for xvorship, and adapts to them
the ordinary services of the church, so as to fix attention
and touch the heart.  What an invaluable service to
hunlanity! Formerly, these children, unprovided with
the means of public worship, never guided by their
parents to the house of prayer, wasted and worse than
wasted the Sunday in the streets, and found or made
this holy season, a day of peculiar temptation and crime.
Whilst the ministers of the poor are faithful to the adult,
they give a special care to children, and through the
child often reach the parent's heart.  Through their
efforts, the young who had been brought up to beg,
have often been sent to the public school or the Sunday
school, and in this way many a heedless foot, going
down to ruin, has been turned to the path of duty.  It
is confidently stated, that since the establishment of this
ministry a few years ago, street beggary has decreased,
notwithstanding the rapid growth of our population.
Happily, men of intelligence and noble hearts are willing
to enter this field, and new laborers are needed.  It is
important that the ministers of the poor should extend
their care beyond the most indigent, to that class from
which the ranks of indigence are recruited, I mean to
that class of laborers who are hovering over the brink
of poverty, who depend on each day's toil. for each
day's food, and whom a short sickness or deficiency of
employment reduces to want. Among these, the degrading infidelity of our days finds many of its victims,
and on this account they peculiarly need to be visited
by Christian friendship, and the light of truth.  To connect these with regular congregations, and to incite them
to contribute to the support of public worship, some




MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.            299
part of what they now too generally expend in pernicious indulgences, would be to render an essential service to morals and religion.
The work of a minister for the poor, covers much
ground, and it demands superior minds.  This body of
men are set apart, not only to act on individuals, but
to study poverty in all its aspects, in its causes, its influences, its various shapes, its growth, and its decline,
and thus to give light to the legislator and philanthropist
in the great work of its prevention and cure.  To me,
this ministry is peculiarly interesting, regarded as the
beginning of a series of operations for banishing from
society its chief calamity and reproach, and for changing the face of the civilized and Christian world. I see
in it the expression of a silently growing purpose, that
Christian communities shall not always be deformed and
disgraced by the presence of an ignorant, destitute, miserable horde; that in the bosom  of civilization there
shall no longer exist a more wretched, degraded portion
of human beings, than can be found in savage life.
This horrible contrast of condition, which all large cities present, has existed too long.  Shall it endure for
ever?  My friends, we all, as well as others, have
hitherto been dreadfully insensible to this sorest evil
under the sun.  Long use has hardened us to it.  We
have lived  comfortably, perhaps luxuriously, in our
dwellings, whilst within a stone's throw, were fellowcreatures, the children of our Father in heaven, as nobly born and gifted as ourselves, in whose countenances
might be read brutal ignorance, hopeless misery, and
degrading vice.  WXe have passed them  in the street,
not oily without a tear but without a thought.  0, hoxs
seldom has a pang shot through our hearts at the sight
of our ruined fellow-creatures! Shall this insensibilfty




300             MINISTRY FOR THE POOVR.
conrtinue for ever?  Shall not a new love succeed to
this iron hardness of heart?  Do not call the evil remediless.  Sure I am, that at this moment there is enough
of piety, philanthropy, and moral power in this community, to work deep changes in the poorer classes,
could these energies, now scattered and slumbering, be
brought to bear wisely and perseveringly on the task,
Shall we decline this work?  If so, we decline the
noblest labor of philanthropy.  If so, we must suffer,
and we ought to suffer.  Society ought to be troubled,
to be shaken, yea convulsed, until its solemn debt to the
ignorant and poor be paid.  Poor there will be, but
they need not, must not exist as a degraded, hopeless
caste.  They need not, must not be cut off from the
brotherhood of humanity.  Their children must not be
left to inherit and propagate their crimes and woes.  To
put an end to such a class, is the highest office of Christian philanthropy.  Do you ask how it is to be done?
I answer, Christianity has wrought mighty revolutions,
and in these we have an earnest of what it is able and
destined to accomplish.  Let us bring this into new
contact with the poor.  Let us send forth men, imbued'with its spirit, to. preach it to the poor, and still more to
study poverty in all its forms, that the moral pestilence
which has so long ravaged the Christian world, may at
last be stayed.
I now see before me the representatives of several
congregations of this city, which have united to support
the ministry for the poor.  Thanks to God, for this'
manifestation of the spirit and power of Christianity.
This connexion, framed only for,pu'poseas of Christian
philanthropy, looking only to the  spiritual relief of our
depressed fellow-creatures, and incapable of being per



MINISTRY FOR THE POOR.!301
verted to the accumulation of ecclesiastical power, is
the Ihappiest means which could be devised, to bring our
churches into stronger sympathy and closer friendship,
without infringing, in the smallest degree, that principle
of independence or self-government on which they are
built. Is it not a plain truth, that every Christian cor,gregation, besides providing for its own spiritual wants,
is bound to devote itself to the general cause of Christianity, and to provide for spreading its own light and
privileges-to the destitute?  By this fraternity we are
discharging, in part, this. sacred obligation.  May it be
sustained with increasing zeal, with unshaken faith, with
glorious success.
My friends, is it necessary that I should urge you
to contribute of your substance to the work which has
now been laid before you?  I am speaking to the prosperous.  Let the Goodness which has prospered you,
teach you the spirit in which your wealth or competence
should be used.  What is the true use of prosperity?
Not to minister to self-indulgence and ostentation; not
to widen the space between you and the less prosperous; not to multiply signs of superior rank; not to
raise us to an eminence, whence we may look down on
the multitude as an inferior race; butt to multiply our
bonds of union with our fellow-creatures, to spread our
sympathies far and wide, to give us nobler spheres of
action, to make us more eminently the delegates ar.d
representatives of divine beneficence.  WThat is the true
use of increasing wealth in a city?  It is not, that more
magnificent structures should be reared, but that our
dwellings should be inhabited by a more intelligent and
virtuois people; that institutions for awakening intel-!ectual and moral life should be brought to bear on the
voL.. iv              26




802            MINISTRY FOR Till POOR.
whole community; that the individual may be carried
forward to his true happiness and perfection; that society may be bound together by stronger and purer
bonds, and that the rigid laws of earthly governments
may be more and more superseded by the Law of
Love. Without such influences, wealth is turned into
a snare and curse.  If, indeed, our prosperity is to be
used to spread luxurious and selfish modes of life, to
form a frivolous class of fashion, to produce more striking contrasts between unfeeling opulence and abject penury, to corrupt manners and harden the heart, better
were it for us, that, by the just judgment of God, it
should be sunk into the depths of the sea.  It avails
little, that intercourse is more polished, and a new grace
is thrown over life.  The simple question is, Do we
better understand and more strongly feel our relations to
God and to our fellow-creatures?  Without this, our
boasted civilization is a whited sepulchre, fair to the
eye, but inwardly " fulll of dead men's bones and all
uncleanness." -But I cannot end this discourse with
the voice of warning.  You deserve to hear the voice
of encouragement and hope. One good work you are
carrying on, as this anniversary testifies.  One institution for instructing the ignorant and raising up the fallen,
you have sustained.   I;et it not fall.  Extend and
strengthen it.  Mlake it permanent.  Bind it up with
the institutions which you support for your own religious
improvement.  Transmit it to your children.  Let your
children learn, from this your example, to take part in
the cause of Christ, of prophets and apostles, of holy
men of all ages, in the work of regenerating society,
and of extending to the whole human family, the light
and blessings of the Christian faith.




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
DISCOURSE
AT THE
DEDICATION OF THE UNITARIAN CONGREGATIONAL
CHURCH,
NEWPORT, RHODE ISLAND, July 27, 1836.
JOHN iv. 23, 24: " The hour cometh, and now is, when the true
worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for
-the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit; and
they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth."
THE dedication of an edifice to the worship of God
is a proper subject of gratitude and joy.  Even if the
consecration be'made by Christians from  whom  we
differ in opinion, we should still find satisfaction in the
service.  We should desire that our neighbours, whose
convictions of truth and duty require them to separate
from  us in religious services, should enjoy the same
accommodations with ourselves; and it should comfort
us to think, that Christianity is so eminently "the
power of God unto salvation," its great truths so plain
and so quickening, that among all sects acknowledging
Christ and consulting his word, its purifying influences,
however counteracted by erroneous views, will more or




304              CHRISTIAN VW'ORSHIP.
less be felt.  We should rejoice to think, that God can
be monopolized by no party; that his spirit is a universal presence; that religion, having its root in the
soul of man, can live and flourish amidst many errors;
that truth and goodness can no more be confined to a
single church, than the light of the sun can be shut up
in a private dwelling; that amidst all the diversities of
forms, names, and creeds, acceptable worship may be
offered to God, and the soul ascend to Heaven.
It is the custom of our times to erect beautiful structures for the purposes of the present life, for legislation,
for literature, for the arts.  But important as these
interests are, they are not the noblest. rAan's highest
relations are not political, earthly, human.  His whole
nature is not exhausted in studying and subduing outward nature, in establishing outward order, in storing
the mind with knowledge which may adorn and comfort his outward life.  He has wants too deep, and
powers and affections too large for the outward world.
He comes from  God.  His closest connexion is with
God; and he can find life and peace only in the
knowledge of his Creator.  Man's glory or true end is
not revealed to us in the most magnificent structure
which the architect ever reared for earthly uses.  An
humble spire pointing Heavenward from  an obscure
church, speaks of man's nature, man's dignity, inan's
destiny, more eloquently than all the columns and arches
of Greece and Rome, the mausoleums of Asia, or the
pyramids of Egypt.  Is it not meet, then, to be gratefull
and joyful, when a house is set apart to the worship c f
God?
This edifice where we now meet is not indeed wholly
new.  Its frame is older than the oldest of us.  But so




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             305
great are the changes which it has undergone, that,
were they who laid its foundations to revisit the earth,
they would trace hardly a feature of their work; and
as it is now entered by a new religious congregation,
there is a fitness in the present solemnity, by which we
dedicate it to the worship of God.  My purpose in this
discourse, is to show that we should enter this edifice
with gratitude and joy; first, because it is dedicated to
Worship in the most general sense of that term; and,
in the second place, on account of the particular worship to which it is set apart.  I shall close with some
remarks of a personal and local character, which may
be allowed to one who was born and brought up on this
island, whose heart swells with local attachment, and
whose memory is crowded with past years, as he stands,
after a long absence, within these walls where he sat
in his childhood, and where some of his earliest impressions were received.
I. We ought to enter this house with gratitude and
joy, for it is dedicated to Worship.  Its end is, that
men should meet within its walls to pay religious homage; to express and strengthen pious veneration, love,
thankfulness, and confidence; to seek and receive pure
influences from  above; to learn the will of God; and
to consecrate themselves to the virtue in which he
delights.  This edifice is reared to the glory of God,
reared like the universe to echo with his praise, to be
a monument to his being, perfection, and dominion.
Worship is man's highest end, for it is the employment
of his highest faculties and affections on the sublimest
object. We have much for which to thank God, but
for nothing so much as for the power of knowing and
26 *




306               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
adoring Himself.   This creation is a glorious spec5
tacle; but there is a more glorious existence for our
mninds and hearts, and that is the Creator.  There is
something divine in the faculties by which we study
the visible world, and subject it to our wills, comfort5
enjoyment.  But it is a diviner faculty, by which we
penetrate beyond the visible, fre-s ourselves of the infinite
and the mutable, and ascend to tile Infinite and the
Eternal.  It is good tc, make earth and ocean, winds
and flames, sun and stars, tributary to our present wellbeing.  How much better to make them  ministers to
our spiritual wants, teachers of heavenly truth, guides
to a more glorious Being than themselves, bonds of
union between man and his AMaker!
There have been those who have sought to disparage
worship, by representing it as an arbitrary, unnatural
service, a human contrivance, an invention for selfish
ends.  Had I time, I should be glad to disprove this
sophistry, by laying open to you human nature, and
showing the deep foundation laid in all its principles
and wants for religion; but I can meet the objection
only by a few remarks drawn from  history.   There
have been, indeed, periods of history in which the influence of the religious principle seems to have been
overwhelmed; but in this it agrees with other great
principles of our nature, which in certain stages of the
race disappear.  There are certain conditions of society, in which the desire of knowledge seems almost
extinct among men, and they abandon themselves for
centuries to brutish ignorance.  There are cornmmunities, in which the natural desire of reaching a better
lot gives not a sign of its existence, and society remains,satownary for ages.  There are some, in which even




CHIItSTIAN WORSHIP.             307
the parental affection is so far dead, that the new-born
child is cast into the stream  or exposed to the storm.
So the religious principle is in some periods hardly to be
discerned; but it is never lost.  No principle is more
universally manifested.  In the darkest ages there are
some recognitions of a superior power.  Man feels that
there is a being above himself, and he clothes that being
in what to his rude conception is great and venerable.
In countries where architecture was unknown, men chose
the solemn wood or the mountain top for worship; and
when this art appeared, its monuments were temples to
God.  Before the invention of letters, hymns were
composed to the Divinity; and music, we have reason
to think, was the offspring of religion.  Music in its infancy was the breathing of man's fears, wants, hopes,
thanks, praises, to an unseen power. You tell me, my
skeptical friend, that religion is the contrivance of the
priest. How came tlhe priest into being? What gave
him his power?  Why was it that the ancient legislator
professed to receive his laws from the gods?  The fact
is a striking one, that the earliest guides and leaders of
the human race looked to the heavens for security and
strength to earthly institutions, that they were compelled
to speak to men in a higher name than man's. - Religion
was an earlier bond and a deeper foundation of society
than government.  It was the root of civilization.  It
has founded the mightiest empires; and yet men question whether religion be an element, a principle of human
nature!
In the earliest ages, before the dawn of science, man
recognised an immediate interference of the Divinity in
whatever powerfully struck his senses.  To the savage
the thunder was literally God's voice, the lightning his




308              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
arrow, the whirlwind his breath.  Every unusual event
was a miracle, a prodigy, a promise of good, or a menace of evil from  Heaven.  These rude notions have
faded before the light of science, which reveals fixed
laws, a stated order of nature. But in these laws, this
order, the religious principle now finds confirmations of
God, infinitely more numerous and powerful than the
savage found in his prodigies.  In this age of the world,
there is a voice louder than thunder and whirlwinds, attesting the Divinity; the voice of the wisely interpreted
works of God, everywhere proclaiming wisdom unsearchable, harmony unbroken, and a benevolent purpose
in what to ages of ignorance seemed ministers of wrath.
In the present, above all times, worship may be said to
have its foundation in our nature; for by the improvements of this -nature, we have placed ourselves nearer to
God as revealed in his universe.  The clouds which
once hung over the creation are scattered.  The heavens,
the earth, the plant, the human frame, now that they are
explored by science, speak of God as they never did
before. His handwriting is brought out, where former
ages saw but a blank.  Nor is it only by the progress of
science, that the foundation of religion is made broader
and deeper.  The progress of the arts, in teaching us
the beneficent uses to which God's works may be applied, in extracting from  them  new  comforts, and in
diminishing or alleviating human suffering, has furnished
new testimonies to the goodness of the Creator.  Still
more, the progress of society has given new power and
delicacy to the sense of beauty in human nature, and in
consequence of this, the creation of God has become a
far more attractive, lovely, and magnificent work than
men looked on in earlier times.  Above all, the moral




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.              309
susceptibilities and wants, the deeper and more refined
feelings, which unfold themselves in the course of human
improvement, are so many new capacities and demands
for religion.  Our nature is perpetually developing new
senses for the perception and enjoyment of God.  The
human race, as it advances, does not leave religion behind it, as it leaves the shelter of caves and forests;
does not outgrow faith, does not see it fading like the
mist before its rising intelligence.  On the contrary, religion opens before the improved mind in new grandeur.
God, whom uncivilized man had narrowed into a local
and tutelar Deity, rises with every advance of knowledge
to a loftier throne, and is seen to sway a mightier sceptre.
The soul, in proportion as it enlarges its faculties and
refines its affections, possesses and discerns within itself
a more and more glorious type of the Divinity, learns
his spirituality in its own spiritual powers, and offers him
a profounder and more inward worship.  Thus deep is
the foundation of worship in human nature.  Mben may
assail it, may reason against it; but sooner can the laws
of the outward universe be repealed by human will,
sooner can the sun be plucked from his sphere, than the
idea of God can be erased firon  the human spirit, and
his worship banished fromn the earth.  All other wants
of man are superficial.  His animal wants are but for a
day, and are to cease with the body.  The profoundest
of all human wants is the want of God.  Mind, spirit,
must tend to its source.  It cannot find happiness but in
the perfect Mind, the Infinite Spirit.  Worship has survived all revolutions.  Corrupted, dishonored, opposed,
it yet lives.  It is immortal as its Object, immortal as
the soul from which it ascends.
Let us rejoice, then, in this house. It is dedicated to




310              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
Worship; it can have no higher use.  The heaven of
heavens has no higher service or joy. The universe has
no higher work. Its chief office is to speak of God. The
sun in awakening innumerable forms of animal and vegetable life, exerts no influence to be compared with what
it puts forth in kindling the human soul into piety, in
being a type, representative, preacher of the glory of
God.
II. I have now spoken of worship in the most general
sense.  I have said that this house, considered as separated to the adoration of God, should be entered joyfully and gratefully, without stopping to inquire under
what particular views or forms, God is here to be adored.
I now proceed to observe, that when we consider the
particular worship which is here to be offered, this occasion ought to awaken pious joy.  I need not tell you,
that whilst the religious principle is a part of man's nature, it is not always developed and manifested under the
same forms.  Men, agreeing in the recognition of a
Divinity, have not agreed as to the service he may acr
cept.  Indeed it seems inevitable, that men, who differ
in judgment on all subjects of thought, should form different apprehensions of the invisible, infinite, and mysterious God, and of the methods of adoring him.  Uniformity of opinion is to be found nowhere, and ought to
be expected least of all in religion.  Who, that considers the vast, the indescribable diversity in men's capaci
ties and means of improvement, in the discipline to
which they are subjected, in the schools in which they
are trained, in the outward vicissitudes and inward conflicts through which they pass, can expect them to arrive at the same conclusions in regard to their origin and




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.              31 
destiny, in regard to the Being from whom they sprung,
and the world toward which they tend.  Accordingly,
religion has taken innumerable forms, and some, it must
be acknowledged, most unworthy of its objects.  The
great idea of God has been seized upon by men's selfish
desires, hopes, and fears, and often so obscured that little of its purifying' power has remained. Man, full of
wants, conscious of guilt, exposed to suffering, and peculiarly struck by the more awful phenomena of nature,
has been terror-smitten before the unseen, irresistible
power with which he has felt himself encompassed.
H-ence to appease his wrath and to sectire his partial regards, has been the great object of worship.  Hence
worship has been so often a pompous machinery, a tribute of obsequious adulation, an accumulation of gifts and
victims.  Hence worship has been the effobrt of nations
and individuals, to bend the Almighty to their particular
interests and purposes, and not the reverential, grateful,
joyful, filial lifting up of the soul to Infinite Greatness,
Goodness, Rectitude, and Purity. Even under Christi
anity human infirmity has disfigured the thought of God.
Wrorship has been debased, by fear and selfishness, into
a means of propitiating wrath, calming fear, and securing
future enjoyment.  All sects have carried their imperfection into their religion.  None of us can boast of
exemption from the common frailty. That this house is
to be set apart to a perfect, spotless, unerring worship,
none of us are so presumptuous as to hope.  But I believe, that in the progress of society and Christianity,
higher and purer conceptions of the Divinity have been
unfolded; and I cannot but believe, that the views of
God and of his worship to which this house is now consecrated, are so far enlightened, enlarged, purified, as to




312               CHtRISTIAN WORSHIP.
justify us in entering its walls with great thankfulness
and joy.
This house is not reared to perpetuate the superstitions
of past ages nor of the present age.  It is not reared to
doom the worshipper to continual repetition of his own
or other delusions.  It is reared for the progress of truth,
reared in the faith that the church is destined to new
light and new purity, reared in the anticipation of a happier, holier age. As I look round, I am met by none
of the representations of the Divinity, which degraded
the ancient temples.  My eyes light on no image of
wood or stone, on no efforts of art to embody to the eye
the invisible Spirit.  As I look round, I am met by none
of the forms, which Providence, in accommodation to a
rude stage of society, allowed to the Jewish people.
No altar sends up here the smoke of incense or victims.
No priesthood, gorgeously arrayed, presents to God the
material offerings of man. Nor are my eyes pained by
cumbersome ceremonies, by which in later ages Christianity was overlaid, and almost overwhelmed. No childish pomps, borrowed from Judaism and Heathenism,
obscure here the simple majesty, the sublime spiritual
purpose of Christianity.  Nor is this house reared for
the promulgation of doctrines which tend to perpetuate
the old servility with which God was approached, to
make man abject in the sight of his Maker, to palsy him
with terror, to prostrate his reason.  This house is
reared to assist the worshipper in conceiving and offering
more and more perfectly the worship described in the
text, the worship of'the Father in spirit and in truth.
On this topic, on the nature of the worship to be offered
in this house, I have many reflections to offer.  My illustrations may be reduced to the folloVwing h1eads:



CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             313
This house is reared, first, for the worship of One Infinite Person, and one only; of Him whom Jesus always
distinguished and addressed as the Father.  In the next
place, it is erected for the worship of God under the
special character of Father, that is of a Parental Divinity.  In the last place, it is set apart to the worship of
Him in Spirit and in Truth,
First, You have prepared this edifice, that here you
may worship One Infinite Person, even Him  and Him
only whom  Jesus continually calls the Father.  One
would think, that on this point there could be no difference among Christians.  One would think, that Jesus
had placed the Object of Christian worship beyond all
dispute. It is hard to conceive more solemn, more definite language than he has used.  " The hour cometh
and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the
Father in spirit and in truth, for the Father seeketh such
to worship him."  Yet it is well known, that very many
Christians deny that one person, the Father, is the only
proper object of supreme worship.  They maintain that
two other persons, the Son and the Holy Spirit, are to
be joined with him in our adoration, and that the most
important distinction of the Christian religion is the worship of God in three persons. Against this human exposition of Christianity we earnestly protest.  Whilst
we recognise with joy, the sincerity and piety of those
who adopt it, we maintain that this gross departure from
the simplicity and purity of our faith, is fraught with evil
to the individual and the church.  This house is reared
to be a monument to the proper unity of God.  We
worship the Father.
All the grounds of this peculiarity of our worship,
cannot of course be expounded in the limits of a disVOL. IV.              27




314              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
course, nor indeed do we deem any labored exposition
necessary.  We start from  a plain principle.  We affirm, that if any point in a religious system must be
brought out explicitly, must not be left to inference, but
set forth in simple, direct, authoritative language, it is the
Object of worship.  On this point we should expect peculiar explicitness, if a revelation should be communicated for the purpose of giving a new direction to men's
minds in this particular.  Now, among Jews and Gentiles the worship of three infinite persons, one of whom
was clothed with a human form, was unknown; and, of,
consequence, if this strange, mighty innovation had been
intended by Jesus and had constituted the most striking
peculiarity of his system, it must have been announced
with all possible clearness and strength.  Be it then remembered, that Jesus, in a solemn description of the
true worship which he was to introduce, made not an allusion to this peculiarity, but declared, as the characteristic to the true worshippers, that they should worship
the Father in spirit and in truth. Be it also remembered,
that Jesus never enjoined the worship of three persons,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Not one injunction to
this effect can be found in the Gospel or in the writings
of the Apostles.  This strange worship rests on inference alone.  " The true worshippers (says the text)
shall worship the Father."  When his disciples came to
him to be instructed in prayer, he taught them to say,
Our Father.  In his last affectionate discourse, he again
and again taught his disciples to pray to the Father in
his name.  This dying injunction, so often and so tenderly repeated, should not for slight reasons be explained
away.  Still more, just before his death, Jesus himself,
in presence of his disciples, prayed to the Father, and




CHRISTIAN WORSHIIP.            315
prayed in this language: Father, This is life eternal, that
they (i. e. men) should know thee, the only true God,
and Jesus Christ whom thout hast sent.
To these remarks it is common to reply, that we read
in the New Testament, that Jesus was again and again
worshipped, and that in admitting this he manifested himself to be the object of religious adoration.  It is wonderful that this fallacy, so often exposed, should be still
repeated.  Jesus indeed received worship or homage,
but this was not offered as adoration to the Infinite God;
it was the homage which, according to the custom of the
age and of the eastern world, was paid to men invested
with great authority whether in civil or religious concerns.
Whoever has studied the Scriptures with the least discernment must know, that the word, worship, is used in
two different senses, to express, first, the adoration due
to the Infinite Creator, and secondly, the reverence
which was due to sovereigns and prophets, and which of
course belonged peculiarly to the most illustrious representative of God, to his beloved Son. Whoever understands the import of the English language in the time
when our translation was made, must know that the word
was then used to express the homage paid to human superiors, as well as the supreme reverence belonging to
God alone. Let not an ambiguous word darken the
truth. We are sure, that the worship paid to Christ
during his public ministry, was rendered to him as a divine messenger, and not as God; for, in the first place,
it was offered, before his teachings had been sufficiently
full and distinct to reveal the mystery of his nature, supposing it to have been divine.  We pronounce it not
merely improbable but impossible, that Jesus, a poor
man, a mechanic from Galilee, at the beginning of his




$316             CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
mission, when his chosen disciples were waiting for his
manifestation as an earthly prince, should have been adored as the everlasting invisible God.  Again, the titles
given him by those who worshipped him, such as Good
Teacher, Son of David, Son of God, show us, that the
thought of adoring him-as the Self-Existent, Infinite IDivinity, had no place in their minds.  But there is one
consideration which sets this point at rest.  The worship
paid to Jesus during his ministry was offered him in public, in sight of the Jewish people.  Now, to the Jews,
no crime was so flagrant as the paying of divine homage
to a human being, such as they esteemed Jesus to be.
Of consequence, had they seen in the marks of honor
yielded to Jesus, even an approach to this adoration,
their exasperation would have burst forth in immediate
overwhelming violence on the supposed impiety.  The
fact, that they witnessed the frequent prostration of men
before Jesus, or what is called the worship of him, without once charging it as a crime, is a demonstration that
the act was in no respect a recognition of him as the supreme God.
It is worthy of remark, that the passages which are
announced as the strongest proofs of the divine worship
of Christ, directly disprove the doctrine, if the connexion be regarded.  One of these texts is the declaration
of Jesus, that we must "honor the Son even as we
honor the Father.'" Hear the whole passage: "' The
Father bath given all judgment to the Son, that all men
should honor the Son, as they honor the Father. He
that honoreth not the Son, honoreth not the Father who
sent him." *  You observe, that it is not the supreme
underived divinity of Christ, but the power given him by
i John v. 22, 23.




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.            3 7
his Father, which is here expressly declared to be the
foundation of the honor challenged for him, and that we
are called to honor him, as sent by God.  Another passage much relied on is the declaration of Paul, that " at
the name of Jesus every knee should bow and every
tongue acknowledge him Lord." Read the whole text:
"' God hath highly exalted him, and given him a name
above every name, that in the name of Jesus every knee
should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and
things under the earth; and that every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God
the Father." *  Could language express more clearly,
the distinct, derived, and dependent nature of Jesus
Christ, or teach that the worship due him is subordinate,
having for its foundation the dignity conferred on him
by God, and terminating on the Father as its supreme
object.
This house, then, is erected to the supreme worship
of the Father, to the recognition of the Father only as
the self-existent Infinite God. Homage will here be paid
to Jesus Christ, and, I trust, a far more profound and
affectionate homage than he received on earth, when his
spiritual character and the true purposes of his mission
were almost unknown.  But we shall honor him as the
Son, the brightest image, the sent of God, not as God
himself.  We shall honor him as exalted above every
name or dignity in heaven or earth, but as exalted by
God for his obedience unto death.  TWe shall honor him
as clothed with power to give life, and judge, but shall
remember that the Father hath given all judgment and
quickening energy to the Son. We look up with delight
and reverence to his divine virtues, his celestial love, his
" Philippians ii. 3.




318               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP
truth, his spirit; and we are sure that in as far as we
imbibe these from the affectionate remembrance of his
life, death, and triumphs, we shall render the worship
most acceptable to this disinterested friend of the human
race
I have said that this house is set apart to the worship
of the Father.  But this term  expresses not only the
Person, the Being to whom it is to be paid. It expresses
a peculiar character.  It ascribes peculiar attributes to
God.  It ascribes to him the Parental relation and the
disposition of a Parent.  I therefore observe, in the
second place, that this house is reared to the adoration
of God in his Paternal character.  It is reared to a Parental Divinity.  To my own mind this view is more
affecting than the last.  Nothing so touches me, when I
look round these walls, as the thought that God is to be
worshipped here as the Father.  That God has not always been worshipped as a Father, even amnong Christians, you well know.:Men have always inclined to
think, that they honor God by placing him on a distant
throne, much more than by investing him with the mild
lustre of parental goodness.  They have made him a
stern sovereigns giving life on hard terms, preferring his
own honor to the welfare of his creatures, demanding an
obedience which he gives no strength to perform, preparing endless torments for creatures whom he brings
into being wholly evil, and refusing to pardon the least
sin, the sin of the child, without an infinite satisfaction.
Men have too often been degraded, broken in spirit,
stripped of manly feeling, rather than lifted up to true
dignity, by their religion.  H-ow  seldom  has worship
breathed  the  noblest sen'ti'mentS of houmnan  nature P




CCHRISTIAN WORSHIP.            819
Thanks to Jesus Christ, that he came to bring us to a
purifying, ennobling, rejoicing adoration. He has revealed the Father. His own character was a bright revelation of the most lovely and attractive attributes of the
Divinity, so that he was able to say, " He that hath
seen me hath seen the Father."  By his manifestation
of the Parental character of God, he created religion
anew.  He breathed a new  and heavenly spirit into
worship.  He Ilas made adoration a filial communion,
assimilating us to our Creator.  Ought we not, then, to
rejoice in this house as set apart to the worship' of the
Father, to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ?
The Father!  In this one word what consoling,
strengthening, ennobling truth is wrapped up.  In this
single view of God, how much is there to bind us to
him, with strong, indissoluble, ever-growing love, and to
Imake worship not only oufr chief duty, but our highest
privilege and joy.  The Father! can it be, that " the
High and Holy One who inhabiteth eternity,"   the
Lord of heaven and earth," the Majesty of the universe,
tears to us this relation, reveals himself under this
name, and that we, so weak and erring, may approach
him with the hope of children! Who cannot comprehend the dignity and blessedness of such worship?
WTho does not feel, that the man, to whom God's parental character is a deep-felt reality, has in this conviction a fountain of strength, hope, and purity springing up into everlasting life?
But to offer this true worship, we must understand
distinctly what we mean, when we call God the Father.
The word has a deep and glorious import, and in as far
as this is unknown, religion will want life and  owero




3820              CIRHSTIAN WORISHI.
Is it understood?  I am bound to say, that there seem's
to me a want of purity, of spirituality in the conception
of God's parental relation, even among those Christians
who profess to make it the great foundation and object
of their worship.  Too many rest in vague conceptions
of God as their C'reator, who supplies their;vants, and
who desires their' happiness, and they think, that, thus
regarding him, they know the Father.  Such imperfect
views incline me to state at some length wihat I deera
tile truth on this point.  No truth is so essential to
Christian worship.  No truth sheds such a flood of light
on the whole subject of religion.
My friends, you are to come here to worship the
Father.  What does this term  import?  It does not
mean merely that God is your Creator.  He- is indeed
the Creator, and' as such let him be adored.  This is
his sole prerogative.  His and his only is the mysteria
ous power, which filled the void space with a universe-.
His the Almighty voice, which called the things which
were not, and thliey came forth.  The universe is a
perpetual answer to this creating Word.  For this, worshlip God.  In every thing hear an exhortation to adore.
In the grandeur, beauty, order of nature, see a higher
glory than its own, a mysterious force deeper than all
its Inotions; and from its countless voices, from its mild
and awful tones, gather the one great lesson which they
conspire' to teach, the majesty of their Author.
But, my friends, God is more than Creator. To create is not to be a Father in the highest sense of that
term.  Ile created the mountain, the plant, the insect,
but we do not call him their father.  We do not call the
artist the father of the statue which he models, nor the
mechanician the father of the machine he contrives.  It




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.              321
is the distinction of a father, that he communicates an
existence like his own.  The father gives being to the
child, and the very idea of the child is, that he bears
the image as well as receives existence from the power
of the parent.  God is the Father, because he brings
into life minds, spirits, partaking of energies kindred to
his own attributes.  Accordingly the Scripture teaches
us, that God made man in his own image, after his own
likeness.  5HIere is the ground of his paternal relation to
the human race, and hence he is called in an especial
sense the Father of those who make it the labor of life
to conform  themselves more and more to their divine
original.  God is  6 the Father of spirits."'
My friends, we are not wholly matter, we are not
wholly flesl:h. Were we so, we could not call God our
Father.  God is a spirit, says the text, and we are
spirits also.  This our consciousness teaches.  We are
conscious of a principle superior to the body which
comprehends and controls it.  We are conscious of
faculties higher than the senses. We do something more
than receive impressions passively, unresistingly, like the
brute, from the outward world.  We analyze, compare,
and combine anew the things which we see, subject the
outward world to the inquisition of reason, create sciences, rise to general laws, and through these establish
an empire over earth and sea.  We penetrate beneath
the surface which the senses report; search for the hidden causes, inquire for the ends or purposes, trace out
the connexions, dependencies, and harmonies of nature; discover a sublime unity amidst its boundless variety, and order amidst its seeming confusion; rise to
the idea of one all-comprehending and all-ordaining
Mklind; and thus by thought make as it were a new




3.22             CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
universe radiant with wisdom, beneficence, and beauty,
We are not mere creatures of matter and sense.  7We
conceive a higher good than comes from  the senses-.
We possess, as a portion of our being, a law higher
than appetite, nobler and more enduring than all the
laws of matter, the Law  of Duty.  We discern, we
approve, the Right, the Good, the Just, the Holy, and
by this sense of rectitude are laid under obligations,
which no- power of the outward universe. can dissolve.
We have within us a higher force than all the forces of
material nature, a powver of will which can adhere to
duty and to God in opposition to all the might of the
elements, and all the malignity of earth or hell.  We
have thoughts, ideas, which do not come from matter,
the Ideas of the Infinite, the Everlasting, the Irmutable, the Perfect.  Living amidst the fiail, the limited;
the changing, we rise to the thought of Unbounded,
Eternal, Almighty Goodness.  Nor is this all.  While
matter obeys mechanical and irresistible laws, and is
bound by an unrelaxing necessity to the same fixed, unvarying movements, we feel ourselves to be Free.  We
have power over ourselves, over thought and desire,
power to conform ourselves to a law written on our
hearts, and' power to resist this law. Man must never'be
confounded with the material, mechanical world around
him.  He is a spirit.  He  ias capacities, thoughts,
impulses, which assimilate him to God. His reason is
a ray of the Infinite Reason; his conscience, an oracle
of the Divinity, publishing the Everlasting Law of Rectitude.  Therefore God is his Father.  Therefore he is
bound to his MIaker by a spiritual bond.  This we must
feel, or we know nothing of the parental relation of God
to the human race,




'a0RIsTIAN WORSHIP.            323
iGod Is the Father, and as such let him  be worshipped.  He is the Father.  By this I understand that he
has given being not only to worlds of matter, but to a
rational., moral, spiritual universe, and still more I understand, not only that he has created a spiritual family
in heaven and on earth, but that he manifests towards
them  the attributes and exerts on them  the influences
of a Father.  Some of these attributes and influences I
will suggest, that the parental character in which God
is to be worshipped may be more distinctly apprehended
and -more deeply felt.
First, then, in calling God the Father, I understand
that he loves his rational and moral offspring with unbounded affection.  Love is the fundamental attribute
of a Father.  How deep, strong, tender, enduring the
attachment of a human parent! But this shadows forth
feebly the Divine Parent.  He loves us with an energy
like that with which he upholds the universe. The
human parent does not comprehend his child, cannot
penetrate the mystery of the spiritual nature which lies
hid beneath the infant form.  It is the prerogative of
God alone, to understand the immortal mind to which
he gives life. The narrowest human spirit can be comprehended in its depths and destiny by none but its
Maker, and is more precious in his sight than material
worlds.  Is he not peculiarly its Father?
Again, in calling God the Father, I understand that it
is his chief purpose in creating and governing the universe, to educate, train, form, and ennoble the rational
and moral being to whom  he has given birth.  Education is the great work of a parent, and he who neglects it is unworthy the name.  God gives birth to the
mind, that it may grow and rise for ever, and its pro



324               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
gress is the end of all his works.  This outward urnverse, with its sun and stars, and mighty revolutions, is
but a school in which the Father is training his children.  God is ever present to the human mind to carry
on its education, pouring in upon it instruction and incitement from the outward world, stirring up everlasting
truth within itself, rousing it to activity by pleasure and
pain, calling forth its affections by surrounding fellowcreatures, calling it to duty by placing it amidst various
relations, awakening its sympathy by sights of sorrow,
awakening its imagination by a world of beauty, and especially exposing it to suffering, hardship, and temptation, that by resistance it may grow strong, and by seeking help from  above, it may bind itself closely to its
Maker.  Thus he is the Father.  There are those who
think, that God, if a parent, must make our enjoyment
his supreme end. He has a higher end, our intellectual
and moral education. Even the good human parent
desires the progress, the virtue of his child more than
its enjoyment.  God never manifests himself more as
our Father, than in appointing to us pains, conflicts,
trials, by which we may rise to the heroism of virtue,
may become strong to do, to dare, to suffer, to sacrifice
all things at the call of truth and duty.
Again, in calling God a Father, I understand that he
exercises authority over his rational offspring.  Authority is the essential attribute of a father.  A  parent,
worthy of that name, einbodies and expresses both irn
commands and actions, the  everlasting law  of Duty.
His highest function is to bring out in the minds of his
children the idea of Right, and to open to them  the
perfection of their nature.  It is too common a notion,
that God, as Fatherl  must be more disposed to bless




"CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.            325'han to command.  IHis commlands -are among his chief
blessings.  He: never speaks with more parental kindness than by that inward voice, which teaches duty and
excites and cheers to its performance.  Nothing is so
strict, so inflexible in enjoining the right and the good,
as perfect love.  This can endure no moral stain in its
object. The whole experience of life, rightly construed,
is a revelation of God's parental authority and righteous
retribution.
Again.  When I call God the Father, I understandthat he -communicates Himself, his own spirit, what is
most glorious in his own nature to his rational offspring;
a doctrine almost overwhelming by its grandeur, but yet
true, and the very truth which shines most clearly from
the Christian Scriptures.  It belongs to a parent to
breathe into the child whatever is best and loftiest in his
own soul, and for this end a good father seeks every approach to the mind of the child.  Such a father is God.
He has created us not only to partake of his works, but
to be 1" partakers of a divine nature," not only to receive his gifts, but to receive Himself.  As he is a pure
spirit, he has an access to the minds of his children, not
enjoyed by human parents.  Te pervades, penetrates
our souls.  All other beings, our nearest friends, are far
from us, foreign to us, strangers) compared with God'.
Others hold intercourse with us through the body. He
is in immediate contact with our souls.  We do not
discern him -because he is too near, too inward, too deep
to be recognised by our present imperfect consciousness.
And he is thus near, not only to discern, but to act, to
influence, to give his spirit, to communicate to us divinity.  This is the great paternal gift of God.  He has
greater gifts than the world.  He confers more than the
VOL. iv.             28




326               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
property of the earth and heavens.  The very attributes
from which the earth and heavens sprung, these he im,
parts to his rational offspring.  Even his disinterested,
impartial, universal goodness, which diffuses beauty, life,
andl happiness, even this excellence it is his purpose to
breathe into and cherish in the human soul.  In regard
to the spiritual influence, by which God brings the created
spirit into conformity to his own, I would that I could
speak worthily.  It is gentle, that it may not interfere
with our freedom.  It sustains, mingles with, and moves
all our faculties.  It acts through nature, providence,
revelation, society, and experience; and the Scriptures,
confirmed by reason and the testimonies of the wisest
and best men, teach us, that it acts still more directly.
God, being immediately present to the soul, holds immediate communion with it, in proportion as it prepares itself to receive and to use aright the heavenly inspiration.
He opens the inward eye to himself, communicates secret mohitions of duty, revives and freshens our convic-.
tions of truth, builds up our faith in human immortality,
~unseals the deep, unfathomed fountains of Love within
us, instils strength, peace, and comfort, and gives victory over pain, sin, and death.
This influence of God, exerted on the soul to conform
it to himself, to make it worthy of its divine parentage,
this it is which most clearly manifests what is meant by
his being our Father.'We understand his parental relation to us, only as far as we comprehend this great purpose and exercise of his love.  WVe must have faith in
the human soil as receptive of thie divinity, as made for
greatness, for spiritual elevation, for likeness to God, or
Godl's character as a Father will be to us as an unrevealed mystery.  If we think, as so many seem to think,




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.              327
that God has made us only for low pleasures and attainments, that our nature is incapable of godlike virtues,
that our prayers for the Divine Spirit are unheard, that
celestial influences do not descend into the human soul,
that God never breathes on it to lift it above its present
weakness, to guide it to a more perfect existence, to
unite it more intimately with himself, then we know but
faintly the meaning of a Father in Heaven.  The great
revelation in Christianity of a Paternal Divinity, is still
to be made to us.
I might here pause in the attempt to give distinct conceptions of the Father whom  we are to worship; but
there are two views so suited to us, as sinful and mortal
beings, that I cannot pass them  over without brief notice.  Let me add, then, that in speaking of God as
the Father, I understand, that he looks with overflowing
compassion on suchi of his rational offspring as forsake
him, as forsake the law of duty.  It is the property of
the human parent to follow with yearnings of tenderness
an erring child; and in this lie is a faint type of God,
who sees his lost sons " a great way off," who to recover his human family spared not his beloved Son, who
sends his regenerating spirit into the fallen soul, sends
rebuke, and shame, and fear, and sorrow, and awakens
the dead in trespasses and sins, to a higher life than that
which the first birth conferred.
I also understand, in calling God the Father, that he
destines his rational, moral creature to Immortality.
HIow ardently does tilhe human parent desire to prolong
the life of his child.  And how much more must lie,
who gave being to the spirit with its unbounded faculties,
desire its endless being.  God is our Father, for he has
made us to bear the image of his own eternity as well as




328               CHRISTIAN, WOeRSME
of his other attributes.  Other things pass away, fo
they fulfil their end; but the soul, which never reaches
its goal, whose developement.is'never complete, is never
to disappear from the universe.  God created it to receive for ever of his fulness.  His fatherly love is not
exhausted in] what he now bestows.  There is a higher
life.  Human perfection is not a dream.  The brightest
visions of genius fade before the realities of excellence
and happiness to which good men are ordained.  In that
higher life, the parental character of God will break forth
from  the clouds which now  obscure it.  His bright
image in his children will proclaim the Infinite Father.
I have thus, my friends, set before you the true object of Christian worship. You are here to worship
God as your spiritual parent, as the Father of your spirits, whose great purpose is your spiritual perfection,
your participation of a divine nature.  I hold this views
of God to be the true, deep foundation of Christian
worship. On your reception of it depends the worth of
the homage to be offered here.  It is not enough to
think of God as operating around and without you, as
creating material worlds, as the former of your bodies,
as ordaining the revolution of seasons for your animal
wants.  There is even danger in regarding God exclusively as the author of the outward universe.  There is
danger, lest you feel as if you were overlooked in this
immensity, lest you shrink before these mighty masses
of matter, lest you see in the unchangeable laws of nature, a stern order to which the human being is a victim,
and which heeds not the pamy individual in maintaining
the general good.  It is only by regarding God as more
than Creator, as you-lr spiritlal Father, as having made
yout to partake of his spiritual attributes, as having give-n




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP,              329
you a spiritual power worth more than the universe, it is
only by regarding his intimacy with the soul, his paternal
concern for it, his perpetual influence on it, it is only by
these views that worship rises into filial confidence, hope,
joy, and rapture, and puts forth a truly ennobling power.
Worship has too often been abject, the offering of fear
or selfishness. "God's greatness, though a pledge of
greatness to his children, and his omnipotence, though
an assurance to us of mighty power in our conflict with
evil, have generated self-contempt and discouraged access to him.  MIy friends, come hither to worship God
as your Spiritual Father.  No other view can so touch
and penetrate the soul, can place it so near its Maker,
can open before it such vast prospects, can awaken such
transports of praise and gratitude, can bow the soul in
such ingenuous sorrow for sin, can so fortify you for
the conflict against evil.  Ought we not to rejoice that
this house is reared for the worship of the spiritual
Father?
The exposition which I have given under this head,
of the parental relation of God to the human race, is
one in which I take the deepest interest.  I have felt,
however, as I proceeded, that very possibly objections
would spring up in the minds of some who hear me.
There are not a few who are skeptical as to whatever
supposes a higher condition of human nature than they
now observe.  Perhaps some here, could they speak,
would say, " AWe do not see the m-rarks of tlils fatherly
interest of God in man of which you have spoken. We
do not see in man the signs of a being so beloved, so
educated, as you have supposed.  His weakness, sufferings, and sins, are surely no proofs of ]is having been
areated to receive God's spirit, to partake of the divini28 *




330"              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
ty."  On this point I have much to say, but my answer
must be limited to a few words.  I reply, that the love
of an Infinite Father may be expected often to work in
methods beyond the comprehension of our limited minds.
An immortal being in his infancy cannot of course comprehend all the processes of his education, many o[
which look forwardito ages too distant for the imagination to explore.  I would add, that notwithstanding the
darkness which hangs over human life on account of the
greatness of our nature, we can yet see bright signatures
of the parental concern of God, and see them in the
very circumstances which at first create doubt.  Because we suffer, it ouglht not to be inferred that God is
not a Father.  Suffering, trial, exposure, seem  to benecessary elements in the education of a moral being.
It is fit, that a being whose happiness and dignity are to
be found in vigorous action and in forming himself,
should be born with 1undeveloped  capacities, and be'
born into a world of mingled difficulties and aids.  We
do see, that energy of thought, will, affection, virtue,
the energy which is our true life and joy, often springs
from trial.  We can see, too, that it is well that society,
like the'individual,- should begin in imperfection; be-;
cause men in this way become to each other means of
discipline, because joint sufferings and the necessity of
joint efforts awaken both the affections and the faculties,
because occasion and incitement are thus given to generous sacrifices, to heroic struggles, to the most beautiful
and stirring manifestations of philanthropy, patriotism,
and devotion.  Were I called on to prove God's spiritual parental interest in us, I would point to the trials,
temptations, evils of life; for to these we owe the character, of Christ, we owe the apostle and martyr, we owe




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             331
the moral force and deep sympathy of private and domestic life, we owe the devolopement of what is divine
in human nature. Truly God is our Father, and as
such to be worshipped.
Having thus set forth very imperfectly, but from  a
full heart, the excellence of the homage which is here
to be rendered to God in his Parental character, I
ought now to proceed, according to the plan of this
discourse, to show that we should enter this house with
joy, because it is set apart to the worship of God in
Spirit and in Truth, to an Inward not outward worship.  In discussing this topic, I might enlarge on the
vast'and beneficent revolution which Jesus. Christ
wrought in religion, by teaching that God is a spirit,
and to be spiritually adored. I might show how much
he wrought for human elevation and happiness, when,
in pronouncing the text, he shook the ancient temples
to their foundations, quenched the fire on the heathen
and Jewish altars, wrested, the instruments of sacrifice
from the hand of the priest, abolished sanctity of place,
and consecrated the human soul as the true house of
God.  But the nature, grandeur, benefits of this spiritual worship, are subjects too extensive for our present consideration.  Instead of discussion, I can only
use the words of exhortation.  I can only say, that you,
who are to assemble in this place, are peculiarly bound
to inward worship, for to you especially Christianity is
an inward system.  iMost other denominations expect
salvation more or less from what Jesus does abroad,
especially from his agency on the mind of God. You
expect it from what he does within your own minds.
His great glory, according to your views, lies in ibis




~332            dCHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
influence on the human soul, in the communication of
his spirit to his followers.  To you salvation, heaven,
and hell have their seat in the soul.  To you, Christianity is wholly a spiritual system.  Come, then, to this
place to worship with the soul, to elevate the spirit to
God.  Let not this house be desecrated by a religion
of show.  Let it not degenerate into a place of forms.
Let not your pews be occupied by lifeless machines.
Do not come here to take part in lethargic repetitions
of sacred words.  Do not come from  a cold sense of
duty, to quiet conscience with the thought of having
paid a debt to God. Do not come to perform a present
task to insure a future heaven.  Come to find heaven
l1ow, tt anticipate the happiness of that better world
by breathing its spirit, to bind your souls indissolubly
to your Maker. Come to worship in spirit and in truth,
that is, intelligently, rationally, with clear judgment,
with just and honorable conceptions of the Infinite Father, not prostrating your understandings, not renouncing
the divine gift of reason, but, offering an enlightened
homage, such as is due to the Fountain of intelligence
and truth. -Come to worship with the heart as well as
intellect, with life, fervor, zeal.  Sleep over your business if you will, but not over your religion. -Come
to worship with strong conviction, with living faith in a
higher presence than mneets the eye, with a feeling of
God's presence not only around you, but in the depths
of your souls. -Come to worship with a filial spirit,
not with fear, dread, and gloom; not with sepulchral
tones and desponding looks, but with humble, cheerful,
boundless trust, with overflowing gratitude, with a love
willing and earnest to do and to suffer whatever may approve your devotion to God. -Come to worship him




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             333
with what he most delights in, with aspiration for spiritual right and life; come to cherish and express desires
for virtue, for purity, for power over temptation, stronger and more insatiable than spring up in your most eager
pursuits of business or pleasure; and welcome joyfillly
every holy impulse, every. accession of strength to virtuous purpose, to the love of God and man. - In a
word, come to offer a refined, generous worship, to
offer a tribute worthy of Him who is the Perfection of
truth, goodness, beauty, and blessedness.  Adore him
with the calmest reason and the profoundest love, and
strive to conform yourselves to what you adore.
I have now, my friends, set before you the worship
to which this building is set apart, and which, from its
rational, filial, pure, and ennobling character, renders
this solemnity a season for thankfulness and joy.  I
should not however be just to this occasion, or to the
great purpose of this house, if I were to stop here. HMy
remarks have hitherto been confined to the worship
which is to be offered within these walls, to the influence
to be exerted on you when assembled here. But has
this house no higher end than to give an impulse to
your minds for the very few hours which you are to
spend beneath its roof?  Then we have little reason
to enter it with joy.  The great end for which you are
to worship here is, that you may worship everywhere.
You are to feel God's presence here, that it may be
felt wherever you go, and whatever you do.  The very
idea of spiritual homage is, that it takes possession of
the soul, and becomes a part of our very being.  The
great design of this act of dedication is, that your houses,
your places of business, may be consecrated to God.




334              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
This topic of omnipresent worship I cannot expand.
One view of it, however, I must not omit.  Froil the
peculiar character of the worship to which this house
is consecrated, you learn the kind of worship which
you should carry from  it into your common lives.
It is not uncommon for the Christian teacher to say to
his congregation, that, when they leave the church, they
go forth into a nobler temple than one made with hands,
into the temple of the Creation, and that they must go
forth to worship God in his works.  The views given
of the true worship in this discourse, will lead me to a
somewhat different style of exposition.  I will, indeed,
say to you, go from this house to adore God as he is
revealed in the boundless universe.  This is one end of
your worship here.  But I would add, that a higher
end is, that you should go forth to worship him as he is
revealed in his rational and moral offspring, and to worship him by fulfilling, as you have power, his purposes
in regard to these.  My great aim in this discourse has
been to show, that God is to be adored here as the
Father of rational and moral beings, of yourselves and
all mankind; and such a worship tends directly and is
designed to lead us, when we go hence, to recognise
God in our own nature, to see in men his children,
to respect and serve them for their relationship to the
Divinity, to see in them signatures of greatness amidst
all their imperfection, and to love them with more than
earthly love.  We must not look round on the universe
with awe and on man with scorn; for man, who can
comprehend the universe and its laws, "is greater than
the universe, which cannot comprehend itself."  God
dwells in every human being more intimately than in the
outward creation.  The voice of God comes to us in




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             335
the ocean, the thunder, the whirlwind; but how nuch
more of God is there in his inward voice, in the intuitions
of reason, in the rebukes of conscience; in the whispers
of the Holy Spirit.  I would have you see God in the
awful mountain and the tranquil valley; but more, much
more in the clear judgment, the moral energy, the disinterested purpse, the pious gratitude, the immortal hope
of a good man.  Go from this house to worship God
by reverencing the human soul as his chosen sanctuary.
Revere it in yourselves, revere it in others, and labor to
carry it forward to perfection.   Worship God within
these walls, as universally, impartially good to his human
offspring; and g6 forth to breathe the same spirit.  Go
forth to respect the rights, and seek the true, enduring
welfare of all within your influence.  Carry with you the
conviction, that to trample on a human being, of whatever color, clime, rank, condition, is to trample on God's
child; that to degrade or corrupt a man, is to deface a
holier temple than any material sanctuary. Mercy, Love,
is more acceptable worship to God, than all sacrifices or
outward offerings. The most celestial worship ever paid
on earth was rendered by Christ, when he approached
man, and the most sinful man, as a child of God, when
he toiled and bled to awaken what was Divine in the human soul, to regenerate a fallen world.  Be such the
worship which you shall carry from this place. Go forth
to do good with every power which God bestows, to
make every place you enter happier by your presence, to
espouse all human interests, to throw your vwhole weight
into the scale of human freedom  and improvement, to
withstand all wrong, to uphold all right, and especially to
give light, life, strength to the immortal soul.  He who
rears up one child in Christian virtue, or recovers one




$36              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
fellow-creature to God, builds a temple more precious
than Solomon's or St. Peter's, more enduring than earth
or heaven.
I have now finished the general discussion which this
occasion seemed to me to require, and I trust that a few
remarks of a personal and local character will be received with indulgence. It is with no common emotion that
I take part in the present solemnity.  I stand now to
teach, where in my childhood and youth I was a learner.
The generation which I then knew has almost wholly
disappeared. The venerable man, whose trembling voice
I then heard in this place, has long since gone to his reward.  My earliest friends, who watched over my childhood and led me by the hand to this spot, have been
taken.  Still my emotions are not sad.  I rejoice; for
whilst I see melancholy changes around me, and still
more feel, that time, which has bowed other frames, has
touched my own, I see that the work of human improvement has gone on. I see that clearer and brighter truths,
than were opened on my 3own youthful mind, are to be
imparted to succeeding generations.  Herein I do and
will rejoice.
On looking back to my early years, I can distinctly
recollect unhappy influences exerted on my mind by the
general tone of religion in this town.  I can recollect,
too, a corruption of morals among those of my own age,
which made boyhood a critical, perilous season.  Still I
must bless God for the place of my nativity; for as my
mind,unfolded, I became more and more alive to the
beautiful scenery which now attracts strangers, to our
island. -[My first liberty was used in roaming over the
neighbouring fields and shores; and amid this glorious




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             337
nature, that love of liberty sprang up, which has gained
strength within me to this hour.  I early received impressions of the great and the beautiful, which I believe
have had no small influence in determining my modes of
thought and habits of life.  In this town I pursued for a
time my studies of theology.  I had no professor or
teacher to guide me-; but I had two noble places of study.
One was yonder beautiful edifice, now so frequented and
so useful as a public library, then so deserted that I spent
day after day and sometimes week after week amidst its
dusty volumes, without interruption from a single visitor.
The other place was yonder beach, the roar.of which
has so often mingled with the worship of this place, my
daily resort, dear to me in the sunshine, still more attractive in the storm.  Seldom  do I visit it now without
thinking of the work, which there, in the sight of that
beauty, in the sound of those waves, was carried on in
my soul.  No spot on earth has helped to form me iso
much as that beach.  There I lifted up my voice in
praise amidst the tempest.  There, softened by beauty,
I poured out my thanksgiving and contrite confessions.
There, in reverential sympathy with the mighty power,
around me, I became conscious of power within. There
struggling thoughts and emotions broke forth, as if moved to utterance by nature's eloquence of the winds and
waves.  There began a happiness surpassing all worldly
pleasures, all gifts of fortune, the happiness of communing with the works of God.  Pardon me this reference
to myself. I believe that the worship, of which I have
ilbis day spoken, was aided in my own soul by the
scenes in which my early life was passed.  Amidst these
scenes, and in speaking of this worship, allow met to
voL. Iv.              29




338               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
thank God that this beautiful island was the place of my
birth.
Leaving what is merely personal, I would express my
joy, and it is most sincere, in the dedication of this house,
regarded as a proof and a means of the diffusion of
Christian truth.  Some perhaps may think, that this joy
is not a little heightened by seeing a church set apart to
the particular sect to which I am said to belong.  But-I
trust, that what you have this day heard will satisfy most
if not all who hear, that it is not a sectarian exultation to
which I am giving utterance.  I indeed take pleasure in
thinking, that the particular views which I have adopted
of the disputed doctrines of religion, will here be made
known; but I rejoice much more in thinking, that this
house is pledged to no peculiar doctrines, that it is not
erected to bind my own or any man's opinions on this or
on future times, that it is consecrated to free investigation
of religious truth, to religious progress, to the right of
private judgment, to Protestant and Christian liberty.
Mlost earnestly do I pray, that a purer theology, that diviner illuminations, that a truer worship than can now be
found in our own or in any sect, may be the glory of this
house.  We who now consecrate it to God, believe in
human progress.  We do not say to the spirit of truth,
" Thus far and no farther."  We reprobate the exclusive, tyrannical spirit of the churches of this age, which
denounce as an enemy to Christianity, whoever in the
use of his intellectual liberty, and in the interpretation
of God's word for himself, may differ from the traditions and creeds which have been received fronm fallible
forefathers.  WTe rear these waIls not to a sect, but to
religious, moral, intellectual, Protestant, Christian libh
erty.




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.              339
I rejoice that this temple of liberty is opened on this
spot.  I feel that this town has a right to an establishment, in which conscientious Christians may inquire and
speak without dreading the thunders of excommunication,
in which Protestanism will not be dishonored by the usurpations of tile Romish Chturch.  This island, like the
State to which it belongs, was originally settled by men
who came hither for liberty of conscience, and in assertion of the right to interpret for themselves the word of
God.  Religious freedom  was the very principle on
which this town was founded, and I rejoice to know, that
the spirit of religious freedom has never wanted champions here. I have recently read a very valuable discourse,
which was delivered in this town about a century ago,
and just a century after the cession of this island to our
fathers by the Indians, and which breathes a liberality of
thought and feeling, a reverence for the rights of the understanding and the conscienc'e, very rare at that time in
other parts of the country, and very far from being universal now.  Its author, the Rev. ]MIr. Callender, was
pastor of the first Baptist church in this place, the oldest
of our churches, and it was dedicated to a descendant
of the venerable Coddington, our first Governor.  The
spirit of religious liberty which pervades this discourse,
has astonished as well as rejoiced me, and it should
thrill the hearts of this people.  Let me read a few sentences:
" It must be a mean contracted way of thinking, to
confine the favor of God, and the power of godliness, to
one set of speculative opinions, or any particular external forms of worship.  How hard must it be to imagine,
that all other Christians but ourselves, must be formal,
and hypocritical, and destitute of the grace of God,




340              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
because their education or capacity differs from ours, or
that God has given them more or less light than to us;
though we cannot deny; they give the proper evidence
of their fearing God by their working righteousness, and
show their love to him by keeping what they understand
he has commanded; and though their faith in Christ Jesus purifies their hearts and works by love and overcomes
the world. It would be hard to show, why liberty of
conscience, mutual forbearance and good will, why brotherly kindness and- charity is not as good a centre of unity
as a constrained uniformity in external ceremonies, or a
forced subscription to ambiguous articles.  Experience
has dearly convinced the world that unanimity in judgment and affection cannot be secured by penal law.
Who can tell, why the unity of spirit in the bonds of
peace is not enough for Christians to aim at? And who
can assign a reason why they may not love one another
though abounding in their own several senses? And
why if they live in peace, the God of love and peace
may not be with them?
" There is no other bottom  but this to rest upon, to
leave others the liberty we should desire ourselves, the
liberty wherewith Christ hath made them free."
Such was the liberal spirit expressed in this town a
hundred years ago. I would it were more common in
our own day.
Another noble friend of religious liberty threw a lustre
on this island immediately before the revolution. I mean
the Rev. Dr. Stiles, pastor of the Second Congregational Church, and afterwards President of Yale College.
This country has not perhaps produced a more learned
man.  To enlarged acquaintance with physical science
he added extensive researches into philology, his-tory, and




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             341
antiquities; nor did his indefatigable mind suffer any
opportunity to escape him, of adding to his rich treasures of knowledge.  His virtues were proportioned to
his intellectual acquisition.  I can well remember how
his name was cherished among his parishioners, after
years of separation. His visit to this place was to many
a festival. When little more than a child, I was present at some of his private meetings with the more religious part of his former congregation; and I recollect
how I was moved by the tears and expressive looks
with which his affectionate exhortations were received.
In his faith he was what was called a moderate Calvinist; but his heart was of no sect.  He carried into his
religion the spirit of liberty which then stirred the whole
country.  Intolerance, church-tyranny in all its forms,
he abhorred.  He respected the right of private judgment, where others would have thought themselves authorized to restrain it.  A young man, to whom he had
been as a father, one day communicated to him doubts
concerning the Trinity.  He expressed his sorrow; but
mildly, and with undiminished affection told him to go
to the Scriptures, and to seek his faith there and only
there.  His friendships were confined to no parties.
HIe desired to heal the wounds of the divided church
of Christ, not by a common creed, but by the spirit of
love.  He wished to break every yoke, civil and ecclesiastical, from men's necks.  To the influence of this
distinguished man in the circle in which I was brought
up, I may owe in part the indignation which I feel towards every invasion of human rights.  In my earliest
years, I regarded no human being with equal reverence.
I have his form before me at this moment almost as distinctly as if I had seen him yesterday, so strong is the
29 *




342              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
impression made on the child through the moral affections.
Let me add one more example of the spirit of religious freedom  on this island.  You may be surprised,
perhaps, when you hear me name in this connexion the
venerable man, who once ministered in this place, the
Rev. Dr. Hopkins. His name is indeed associated with
a stern and appalling theology, and it is true, that he
wanted toleration towards those who rejected his views.
Still in forming his religious opinions, he was' superior
to human authority; he broke away from human creeds;
he interpreted God's word for himself; he revered reason, the oracle of God within him.  His system, however fearful, was yet built on a generous foundation.
He maintained that all holiness, all moral excellence,
consists in benevolence, or disinterested devotion to the
greatest good; that this is the character of God; that
love is the only principle of the divine administration.
He taught that sin was introduced into the creation, and
is to be everlastingly punished, because evil is necessary
to the highest good.  To this government, in which the
individual is surrendered to the well-being of the whole,
he required entire and cheerful submission.  Other Calvinists were willing that their neighbours should be predestined to everlasting misery for the glory of God.
This noble-minded man demanded a more generous and
impartial virtue, and maintained that we should consent
to our own perdition, should be willing ourselves to be
condemned, if the greatest good of the universe, and
the manifestation of the divine perfections should so require.  True virtue, as he taught, was an entire surren.
der of personal interest to the benevolent purposes of
God.  Self-love he spared in none of its movements




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             343
Hle called us to seek our own happiness as well as that
of others, in a spirit of impartial benevolence; to do
good to ourselves, not from  self-preference, not from
the impulse of personal desires, but in obedience to that
sublime law, which requires us to promote the welfare
of each and all within our influence.  I need not be
ashamed to confess the deep impression which this system  made on my youthful mind.- I am grateful to this
stern teacher for turning my thoughts and heart to the
claims and majesty of impartial, universal benevolence.
From such a man, a tame acquiescence in the established theology was not to be expected.  He indeed accepted the doctrine of predestination in its severest
form; but in so doing, he imagined himself a disciple
of reason as well as of revelation.  He believed this
doctrine to be sustained by profound metaphysical argumentation, and to rest on the only sound philosophy
of the human mind, so that in receiving it, he did nott
abandon the ground of reason.  In accordance with his
free spirit of inquiry, we find him making not a few important modifications of Calvinism.  The doctrine that
we are liable to punishment for the sin of our first parent, he wholly rejected; and not satisfied with denying
the imputation of Adam's guilt to his posterity, he subverted what the old theology had set forth as the only
foundation of divine acceptance, namely the imputation
of Christ's righteousness or-merits to the believer.  The
doctrine that Christ died for the elect only, found no
mercy at his hands.  He taught that Christ suffered
equally for all mankind.  The system of Dr. Hopkins
was indeed an effort of reason to reconcile Calvinism
with its essential truths. Accordingly his disciples were
sometimes called, and willingly called, Rational Calvin



$44              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
ists.  The impression which he made was much greater
than is now supposed.  The churches of New England
received a decided impression from  his views; and
though his name, once given to his followers, is no
longer borne, his influence is still felt.  The conflict
now going on in our country, for the purpose of mitigating the harsh features of Calvinism, is a stage of the
revolutionary movement to which he more than any man
gave impulse.  I can certainly bear witness to the spirit
of progress and free inquiry which possessed him.  In
niy youth, I preached in this house at the request of
the venerable old man.  As soon as the services were
closed, he turned to me with an animated benignant
smile, and using a quaintness of expression which I
need not repeat, said to me, that theology was still imperfect, and that he hoped I should live to carry it towards perfection.  Rare and most honorable liberality
in the leader of a sect! He wanted not to secure a
follower, but to impel a young mind to higher truth.  I
feel, that ability has not been given me to accomplish
this generous hope; but such quickening language from
such lips, though it could not give strength, might kindle
desire, and elevate exertion. - Thus the spirit of religious freedom has not been wanting to this island.  May
this spirit, unawed by human reproach, unfettered by
human creeds, availing itself gratefully of human aids,
and, above all, looking reverently to God for light,
dwell in the hearts of those who are to minister, and
of those who shall worship within these walls.  May
this spirit spread far and wide, and redeem the Christian world from the usurpations of Catholic and Protestant infallibility, from uncharitableness, intolerance, per



CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             345
secution, and every yoke which;has:crushed the human
soul.
I have done with the personal and the local.  In
conclusion, let me revert for one moment to the great
topic of this discourse.  My friends, the spiritual worship of which T have this day spoken, is something
real.  There is a worship in the spirit, a worship very
different from standing in the church, or kneeling in
the closet, a worship which cannot be confined to set
phrases, and asks not the clothing of outwards forms,
a thirst of the soul for its Creator, an inward voice,
which our nearest neighbour cannot hear, but which
pierces the skies.  To the culture of this spiritual worship, we dedicate this house.  My friends, rest not in
offering breath, in moving the lips, in bending the knee
to your Creator.  There is another, a nearer, a happier
intercourse with Heaven, a worship of love, sometimes
too full and deep for utterance, a union of mind with
him closer than earthly friendships.  This is the worship to which Christ calls.  Christ came not to build
churches, not to rear cathedrals with Gothic arches, or
swelling domes, but to dedicate the human soul to God.
When God " bows the heavens and comes down," it
is not that he may take up his abode beneath the vault
of a metropolitan tempie; it is not that he is drawn by
majestic spires or by clouds of fragrance, but that he
may visit and dwell in the humble, obedient, disinterested soul.  This house is to moulder away.  Temples
hewn from the rock will crumble to dust, or melt in the
last fire. But the inward temple will survive all out
ward change. When winds and oceans and suns shall
have ceased to praise God, the human soul will praise




346               CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
him.  It will receive more and more divine inspirations
of truth and love; will fill with its benevolent ministry
wider and wider spheres; and will accomplish its destiny by a progress towards God as unlimited, as mysterious, as enduring as eternity.




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.            347
NOTE TO PAGE 317.
I have not quoted the verses preceding those which I
have extracted from the Epistle to the Philippians, which
are often adduced in proof of Christ's supreme divinity,
because it is acknowledged by learned men of all denominations, that our translation of the most important
clause is incorrect, and a critical discussion of the sub
ject would have been out of place. I think, however,
that no man, unacquainted with the common theories,
can read any translation and escape the impression, that
Jesus Christ is a derived, dependent, subordinate being,
and a distinct being from the Father. How plain is it,
that in this passage Paul intends by the terms "'God"
and "the Father," not Jesus Christ but another being!
How plain is it, that in the passage chosen as the text
for this discourse, our Saviour intended by these terms
not himself but another being! What other idea could
his hearers receive? What decisive proofs are furnished
by his constant habit of speaking of "the Father" and
of "God," as another being, and of distinguishing himself from him!
NOTE TO PAGE 344.
I understand that the interest expressed by me in the
character of Dr. Hopkins, has surprised some of my townsmen of Newport, who knew him only by report, ox who
saw him in their youth. I do not wonder at this. He
lived almost wholly in his study, and like very retired




348              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
men, was the object of little sympathy. His appearance
was that of a man who had nothing to do with the world
I can well recollect the impression which he made on me
when a boy, as he rode on horseback in a plaid gown
fastened by a girdle round his waist, and with a study
cap on his head instead of his wig.  His delivery in
the pulpit was the worst I ever met with. Such tones
never came from any human voice within my hearing. He
was the very ideal of bad delivery. Then I must say,
the matter was often as uninviting as the manner. Dr.
Hopkins was distinguished by nothing more than by faithfulness to his principles. He carried them out to their
full extent. Believing, as he did, in total depravity, believing that there was nothing good or generous in human nature to which he could make an appeal, believing
that he could benefit men only by setting before them
their utterly lost and helpless condition, he came to the
point without any circumlocution, and dealt out terrors
with an unsparing liberality. Add to all this, that his
manners had a bluntness, partly natural, partly the result
of long seclusion in the country. We cannot wonder
that such a man should be set down as hard and severe.
But he had a true benevolence, and what is more worthy
of being noted, he was given to a facetious style of conversation. Two instances immediately occur to me, which
happened in my own circle. One day he dined at my
father's with a young minister who was willing to comply
with the costume of the day, but whose modesty only
allowed the ruffles to peep from:his breast. The Doctor
said with good humor, "I don't care for ruffles; but
if I wore them, I'd wear them like a man."  I recollect
that on visiting him one day when he was about eighty
years of age, I found his eyes much inflamed by reading
and writing. I took the liberty to recornmend-abstinence
from these occupations. He replied, smilingly, with an




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.            349
amusing story, and then added, " If my eyes won't study,
no eyes for me."  This facetiousness may seem to some
who are unacquainted with the world, not consistent with
the great severity of his theology; but nothing is more
common than this apparent self-contradiction. The ministers, who deal most in terrors,: who preach doctrines
which ought to make their flesh creep, and to turn their
eyes into fountains of tears, are not generally distinguished by their spare forms or haggard countenances.
They take the world as easily as people of a milder creed;
and this does not show that they want sincerity or benevolence.  It only shows how superficially men may
believe in doctrines, which yet they would shudder to
relinquish.  It shows how little the import of language,
which is thundered from the lips, is comprehended and
felt. I should not set down as hard-hearted, a man whose
appetite should be improved by preaching a sermon full
of images and threatenings of " a bottomless hell."  The
best meals are sometimes made after such effusions. This
is only an example of the numberless contradictions in
human life. Men are every day saying and doing, from
the power of education, habit, and imitation, what has
no root whatever in their serious convictions.  Dr. Hopkins, though his style of preaching and conversation did
not always agree, was a sincere, benevolent man. I remember hearing of his giving on a journey all he had to
a poor woman. On another occasion he contributed to
some religious object a hundred dollars, which he had
received for the copyright of a book; and this he gave
from his penury, for he received no fixed salary, and depended, in a measure, on the donations of friends for
common comforts. dWhen he first established himself
in Newport, he was brought into contact with two great
evils, the slave trade and slavery, in both of which a large
part of the inhabitants were or had been engaged. "I-His
VOL. IV. e0




350              CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
spirit was stirred in him," and without "conferring with
flesh or blood," without heeding the strong prejudices
and passions enlisted on the side of these abuses, he bore
his faithful testimony against them from the pulpit and
the press.  Still more, he labored for the education of the
colored people, and had the happiness of seeing the fruits
of his labors in the intelligence and exemplary piety of
those who came under his influence. Much as he disapproved of the moderate theology of Dr. Stiles, he cheerfully cooperated with him in this work. Their names
were joined to a circular for obtaining funds to educate
Africans as missionaries to their own country. These
two eminent men, who, as I think, held no ministerial
intercourse, forgot their differences in their zeal for freedom and humanity.
Dr. Hopkins in conversing with me on his past history,
reverted more frequently to his religious controversies
than to any other event of his life, and always spoke as
a man conscious of having gained the victory; and in
this, I doubt not, that he judged justly. He was true, as
I have said, to his principles, and carried them out fearlessly to their consequences; whilst his opponents wished
to stop half-way. Of course it was easy for a practised
disputant to drive them from their position. They had,
indeed, the advantage of common sense on their side, but
this availed little at a time when it was understood that
common sense was to yield to the established creed.
These controversies are most of them forgotten, but they
were agitated with no small warmth. One of the most
important, and which was confined to the Calvinists,
turned on what were called the "Means of Grace." The
question was, whether the unregenerate could do any
thing for themselves, whether an unconverted man could,
by prayer, by reading the Scriptures, and by public worship, promote his own conversion; whether, in a word.




CHRISTIAN WORSIrIP.            351
any means used by an unregenerate man, would avail to
that change of heart on which his future happiness depended. Dr. Hopkins, true to the fundamental principles
of Calvinism, took the negative side of the question.
He maintained, that man, being wholly depraved by nature, wholly averse to God and goodness, could do nothing but sin, before the mighty power of God had implanted a new principle of holiness within his heart; that,
of course, his prayers and efforts before conversion were
sins, and deserved the divine wrath; that his very struggles for pardon and salvation, wanting, as they did, a
holy motive, springing from the deep selfishness of an
unrenewed soul, only increased his guilt and condemnation. The doctrine was indeed horrible, but a plain,
necessary result of man's total corruption and impotence.
I state this controversy, that the reader may know the
kind of topics in which the zeal and abilities of our fathers
were employed. It also shows us how extremes meet.
Dr. Hopkins contended, that no means of religion or virtue could avail, unless used with a sincere love of religion
and virtue. In this doctrine, all liberal Christians concur.
In their hands, however, the doctrine wears an entirely
different aspect in consequence of their denial of total,
original depravity, that terrible error, which drove Dr.
Hopkins t6 conclusions equally shocking to the reason,
to common sense, and to the best feelings of the heart.
The characteristic disposition of Dr. Hopkins to follow
out his principles, was remarkably illustrated in a manuscript of his which was never published, and which perhaps was suppressed by those who had the charge of his
papers, in consequence of its leaning towards some of the
speculations of the infidel philosophy of the day, in regard
to Utility or the General Good. It fell into my hands
after his death, and struck me so much that I think I can
trust my recollections of it. It gave the author's ideas of




352              CHRISTIAN VVORSHIP.
Moral Good. He maintained that the object of "MAora.
Good," the object on which virtue is fixed, and the
choice of which constitutes virtue, is "natural good,"
or the greatest possible amount of Enjoyment, not our
own enjoyment only, but that of the whole system of
being. He virtually, if not expressly, set forth this " natural good," that is, happiness in the simple sense of enjoyment, as the ultimate good, and made moral good the
means. I well recollect how, in starting froin this principle, he justified eternal punishment. Hie affirmed that
sin or selfishness (synonymous words in his vocabulary)
tended to counteract God's system, which is framed for
infinite happiness, or tended to produce infinite misery.
He then insisted, that by subjecting the sinner to endless,
that is, infinite misery, this tendency was made manifest;
a correspondence was established between the sin and
the punishment, and a barrier was erected against sin,
which was demanded by the greatness of the good menaced by the wrong-doer.
I have thrown together these recollections of a man,
who has been crowded out of men's minds by the thronging events and interests of our time, but who must always
fill an important place in our ecclesiastical history. He
was a singularly blameless man, with the exception of
intolerance towards those who differed from'him. This
he sometimes expressed in a manner which, to those unacquainted with him, seemed a sign of any thing but
benignity. In one point of view, I take pleasure in thinking of him. He was an illustration of the power of our
spiritual nature. In narrow circumstances, with few outward indulgences, in great seclusion, he yet found much
to enjoy.  He lived in a world of thought, above all
earthly passions. He represented to himself, as the result of the divine government, a boundless diffusion of
felicity through the universe, and contrived to merge in:




CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.             353
this the horrors of his theological system. His doctrines,
indeed, threw dark colors over the world around him;
but he took refuge from the present state of things in the
Millennium. The Millennium was his chosen ground. If
any subject of thought possessed him above all others, I
suppose it to have been this. The Millennium was more
than a belief to him. It had the freshness of visible things.
He was at home in it. His book on the subject has an
air of reality, as if written from observation. Hle describes the habits and customs of the Millennium, as one
familiar with them. He enjoyed this future glory of the
church not a whit the less, because it was so much his
own creation. The fundamental idea, the germ, he found
in the Scriptures, but it expanded in and from his own
mind. Whilst to the multitude he seemed a hard, dry
theologian, feeding on the thorns of controversy, he was
living in a region of imagination, feeding on visions of a
holiness and a happiness, which are to make earth all but
heaven. It has been my privilege to meet with other examples of the same character, with men, who, amidst
privation, under bodily infirmity, and with none of those
materials of enjoyment which the multitude are striving
for, live in a world of thought, and enjoy what affluence
never dreamed of; - men having nothing, yet possessing
all things; and the sight of such has done me more good,
has spoken more to my head and heart, than many sermons and volumes. I have learned the sufficiency of the
mind to itself, its independence on outward things.
I regret that I did not use my acquaintance with Dr.
Hopkins to get the particulars of the habits and conversation of Edwards and Whitefield, whom he knew intimately. I value the hints which I get about distinguished
men from their friends, much more than written accounts
of them.  M[ost biographies are of little worth.  The
true object of a biography, which is to give us an insight
30 *




,354             CHRISTIAN WORSHIP.
into men's characters, such as an intimate acquaintance
with them would have furnished, is little comprehended.
The sayings and actions of a man, which breathe most
of what was individual in him, should be sought above all
things by his historian; and yet most lives contain none
or next to none of these. They are panegyrics, not lives.
No department of literature is so false as biography.
The object is, not to let down the hero; and consequently, what is most human, most genuine, most characteristic in his history is excluded. Sometimes one anecdote
will let us into the secret of a man's soul more than all
the prominent events of his life. It is not impossible that
some readers may object to some of my notices of the
stern theologian, to whom this note refers, as too familiar.
This seems to me their merit. They show that he was
not a mere theologian, that he had the sympathies of a
mlan.




THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
DISCOURSE
PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL SOCIETY.
MIATTHEW xix. 13, 14: " Then were there brought unto him little
children, that he should put his hands on them, and pray: and
the disciples rebuked them. But Jesus said, Suffer little children,
and forbid them not, to come unto me; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."
THE subject of this discourse is indicated by the name
of the society, at whose request I appear in this place.
The Sunday-School, this is now to-engage our attention.
I believe, I can best aid it by expounding the principles
on which it should rest and by which it should be guided.
I am not anxious to pronounce an eulogy on this and
similar institutions.  They do much good, but they are
destined to do greater.  They are in their infancy, and
only giving promise of the benefits they are to confer.  They already enjoy patronage, and this will increase certainly, necessarily, in proportion as they shall
grow in efficiency and usefulness.  I wish to say something of the great principles which should preside over
them, and of the modes of operation by which they can
best accomplish their end,  This discourse, though




356              THE' SUNDA-J.SCHOO&
especially designed for Sunday-schools, is, in truth,
equally applicable to domestic instruction. Parents who
are anxious to train up their children in the paths of
Christian virtue, will find in every principle and rule,
now to be laid dowvn, a guide for their own steps. IHow
to reach, influence, enlighten, elevate the youthful mind,
this is the grand topic; and who ought not to be interested in it? for who has not an interest in the young?
I propose to set before you my views under the following heads.  I shall consider, first, the Principle on
which such schools should be' founded; next, their End
or great object; in the third place, What they should
teach; and, lastly, How  they should teach.  These
divisions, if there were time to fill them  up, would
exhaust the subject.  I shall satisfy myself with offering you what seem to me the most important views
under each.
I. I am, first, to consider the principle on which the
Sunday-school should be founded. It must be founded
and carried on in Faith.  You must not establish it from
imitation, nor set it in motion because other sects have
adopted a like machinery.  The Sunday-school must
be founded on and sustained by a strong faith in its usefulness, its worth, its importance.  Faith is the spring
of all energetic action.  Men throw their souls into objects only because they believe them to be attainable and
worth pursuit.  You rnust have faith in your school;
and for this end you must have faith in God; in the
child whom you teach; and in the Scriptures which are
to be taught.
You must have faith in God; and by this I do not
mean a general belief of his existence and perfection,




THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.              357
but a faith in him as the father and friend of the children
whom you instruct, as desiring their progress more than
all human friends, and as most ready to aid you in your
efforts for their good.  You must not feel yourselves
alone.  You must not think when you enter the place
of teaching, that only you and your pupils are present,.
and that you have nothing but your power and wisdom
to rely on for success.  You must feel a higher presence. You must feel that the Father of these children is
near you, and that he loves them with a boundless love.
D)o not thinlk of God as interested only in higher orders of beings, or only in great and distinguished men.
The little child is as dear to him as the hero, as the philosopher, as the angel; for in that child are the germs
of an angel's powers, and God has called him into being
that he may become an angel.  On this faith every
Sunday-school should be built, and on such a foundation
it will stand firm and gather strength.
Again, you must have faith in the child whom you- instruct.  Believe in the greatness of its nature and in its
capacity of improvement.  Do not measure its mind by
its frail, slender form.  In a very few years, in ten years
perhaps, that child is to come forward into life, to take
on him the duties of an arduous vocation, to assume serious responsibilities, and soon after he may be the head
of a family and have a voice in the government of his
country. All the powers which he is to put forth in life,
all the powers which are to be unfolded in his endless
being, are now wrapped up within him.  That mind,
not you, nor I, nor an angel, can comprehend. Feel
that your scholar, young as he is, is worthy of your intensest interest.  Have faith in his nature, especially as
fitted for religion. Do not, as some do, look on the




358              THE' SUNDAY- SCHOOL.
child as born under the curse of God, as naturally h-oso
tile to all goodness and truth.  What! the child totally
depraved! Can it be that such a thought ever entered
the mind of a human being? especially of a parent!
What! ill the beauty of childhood and youth, in that
open brow, that cheerful smile, do you see the brand of
total corruption? Is it,a little fiend who sleeps so sweetly
on his mother's breast?  Was it an infant demon, which
Jesus took in his arms and said, 1s Of such is the kingdom of heaven "?  Is the child, who, as you relate to
him a story of suffering or generosity, listens with a tearful or kindling eye and a throbbing 3heart, is he a child of
hell?  As soon could I look on the'sun, and think it the
source of darkness, as on the countenance of childhood.
or of youth, and see total depravity written there.  My
friends, we should believe any doctrine sooner than this,
for it tempts us to curse the day of our birth; to loathe
our existence; and, by making our Creator our worst
foe and our fellow-creatures hateful, it tends to rupture
all the ties which bind us to God and our race.  My
fiiends, have faith in the child; not that it is virtuous,
and holy at birth; for virtue or holiness is not, cannot
be, born with us, but is a free, voluntary effcrt of a being
who knows the distinction of right and wrong, and who,
if tempted, adheres to the right; but have faith in the
child as capable of knowing and loving the good and the
true, as having a conscience to take the side of duty, as
open to ingenuous motives for well-doing, as created for
knowledge, wisdom, piety, and disinterested love.
Once more, you must have faith in Christianity, as
adapted to the mind of the child, as the very truth fitted
to enlighten, interest, and improve the human being in
the first years of his life.  It is the property of oum




ATE SUNDAY.SCHOOL.                359'eligion, that, whilst it stretches beyond the grasp of the
aughtiest intellect, it contracts itself, so to speak, within
the limits of the narrowest; that, whilst it furnishes matter of inexhaustible speculation to such men as Locke
and Newton, it condescends to the ignorant and becomes
the teacher of babes.  Christianity at once speaks with
authority in the schools of the learned, and enters the
nursery to instil with gentle voice celestial wisdom  into
the ears of infancy.  And this wonderful property of
our religion is to be explained by its being founded on,
and answering to, the primitive and most universal principles of human nature.  It reveals God as a parent;
and the first sentiment which dawns on the child, is love
to its parents.  It enjoins not arbitrary commands, but
teaches the everlasting principles of duty; and the sense
of duty begins to unfold itself in the earliest stages of
our being.  It speaks of a future world and its inhabitants; and childhood welcomes the idea of angels, of
spirits, of the vast, the wonderful, the unseen.  Above
all, Christianity is set forth' in the life, the history, the
character of Jesus; and his character, though so sublime, is still so real, so genuine, so remarkable for simplicity, and so naturally unfolded amidst the common
scenes of life, that it is seized in its principal features by
the child as no other greatness can be.  One of the excellences of Christianity is, that it is not an abtruse
theory, not wrapped up in abstract phrases; but taught
us in facts, in narratives.  It lives, moves, speaks, and
acts before our eyes.  Christian love is not taught us in
cold precepts.  It speaks from  the cross.  So, immortality is not a vague promise.  It breaks forth like the
fnorning from the tomb near Calvary. It becomes a
rlo0io1. rea;lity in the person of the rising Saviour; and




36'0             THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
his ascension opens to our view the heaven into which he
enters.  It is this historical form of our religion, which
peculiarly adapts it to childhood, to the imagination and
heart, which open first in childhood.  In this sense, the
kingdom  of heaven, the religioh of Christ, belongs to
children.  This you must feel.  Believe in the fitness
of our religion for those you teach.  Feel that you have
the very instrument for acting on the young mind, that
you have the life-giving word.
II. Having considered the faith in which the Sundayschool should be founded, I proceed now to consider
the end, the great object, which should be proposed and
kept steadily in view by its friends. To work efficiently
and usefully, we must understand what we are to work
for.  In proportion as an end is seen dimly and unsteadily, our action will be vague, uncertain, and our energy wasted.  What, then, is the end of the Sundayschool? The great end is, to awaken the soul of the
pupil, to bring his understanding, conscience, and heart
into earnest, vigorous action on religious and moral
truth, to excite and cherish in him Spiritual Life.  Inward life, force, activity, this it must be our aim to call
forth and build up in all our teachings of the young,
especially in religious teaching.  You must never forget,
my friends, whether parents or Sunday-School instructers, what kind of a being you are acting upon.  Never
forget that the child is a rational, moral, free being, and
that the great end of education is to awaken rational and
moral energy within him, and to lead him to the free
choice of thle right, to the free determination of himself
to truth and duty.  The child is not a piece of wax to
be moulded at another's pleasure, not a stone to be hewn




THE SUNDAY-SCII00L.             361
passively into any shape which the caprice and interest
of others rmay dictate; but a living, thinking being, made
to act from principles in his own heart, to distinguish for
himself between good and evil, between truth and falsehood, to form himself, to be in an important sense the
author of his own character, the determiner of his own
future being.  This most important view of the child
should never forsake the teacher.  He is a free moral
agent, and our end should be to develope such a being.
He must not be treated as if he were unthinking matter.
You can make a house, a ship, a statue, without its own
consent.  You determine the machines which you form
wholly by your own will.  The child has a will as well
as yourselves.  The great design of his being is, that he
should actfrom himself and on himself.  He can understand the perfection of -his nature, and is created that he
may accomplish it from free choice, from a sense of duty, from his own deliberate purpose.
The great end in religious instruction, whether in the
Sunday-school or family, is, not to stamp our minds irresistibly on the young, but to stir up their own; not to
nake them see with our eyes, but to look inquiringly and
steadily with their own; not to give them a definite
amount of knowledge, but to inspire a fervent love-of
truth; not to form an outward regularity, but to touch
inward springs; not to burden the memory, but to quicken and strengthen the power of thought; not to bind
them  by ineradicable prejudices to our particular sect or
peculiar notions, but to prepare them for impartial, conscientious judging of whatever subjects may, in the
course of Providence, be offered to their decision; not
to impose religion upon them in the form of arbitrary
rules, which rest on no foundation but our own word and
voLT. T v.o,




362                THE SUNDAY. SC1hOOUL.
will, but toe awaken the conscience, the moral discern1ment, so that thley may discern and approve' for themselves wlhat P; erverlastingly right and good   not to tell
tlem that GCod is good, but to help them  to see and feel
his love in all thlOat he does within and around them; not
to tell tlhetn of the dig-,;ily of Christ, but to open their
inward eye to ihe beauty and  grentness of h.is character,
and to enkindle as)irations after a kindred virtue.  In
a word, tlle great object of all schools is, to awaken
intellectual Cand moral life in the child.'Life is the
great thing to he s OLlght in o humnan being.  Hitherto,
most religions and gfovernments have been very mnuchcontrivances for extinguishing  life in the human soul.
Thanks to God, we live to see the dawning of a better
day.
By these remarks, I do not mean that we are never to
give our children a command without assigning our reasons, or an opinion without stating our proofs.  They
must rely or us in tlhe first instance, for much that they
cannot cotrLprehend; but I mean, that our great ain in
controlling them, must be to train them to control themselves, and o11' great aim in giving them instruction, must
be to aid themn in the acquisition of truth for themselves.
As far as )possible, religion should be adapted to their
mrtinds and hea,arts.  We should teach religion as we do
nature.  We/ do not shut up our children from  outward
nature, and ieqiire them to believe in the great laws of
the Creatorl ill the powers of light, heat, steam, gravity,
on our word alone.  We put them  in the presence of
nat ure.'We,delighlt o verify vwhat we teach them of' the
mineral, anil'al, ancd vegetable worlds, by facts placed
lder ltheir own eyec.    We encourage them  to observe
for tlemselves, and to submit to experiment what they




''HE B1ISUN)AY-SH(,OOL          363
hear.  Now, all the great principles of.r+n and religion may be illustrated and confirmed, lilke lihe great laws
of nature, by what falls under the child's own consciousness and experience. Indeed great moral and religious
truths are nearer to him- than the principles of natural
science.  The germs of them are in the soul.  All the
elementary ideas of God and duty and love and happiness come to him from his own spiritual powers and affections.  Mloral good and evil, virtue and vice, are revealed to him in his own motives of action and in the
motives of those around him.  Faith in God and virtue
does not depend on assertion alone.  Religion carries its
own evidence with it more than history or science.  It
should rest more on the soul's own consciousness, experience, and observation.  To wake up the soul to a
clear, affectionate perception of the reality and truth and
greatness of religion, is the great end of teaching.
The great danger of Sunday-schllools is, that they will
fall into a course of mechanical teaching, that they will
give religion as a lifeless tradition, and not as a quickening reality.  It is not enough to use words conveying
truth.  Truth must be so given that the mind will lay
hold on, will recognise it as truth, and will incorporate it
with itself.  The most important truth may lie like a
dead weight on the mind, just as the most wholesome
food, for want of action in the, digestive organs, becomes
an oppressive load.  I do not thinlk that so much harm
is done by giving error to a child, as by giving truth in a
lifeless form.  What is the mnisery of the multitudes in
Christian countries?  Not that they disbelieve Christianity; not they hold great erroes, but that truth lies dead
within them.  They use the most sacred words without
neaning.  They hear of spiritual realities, awful enough




364                THE SUNDAY- SCHOOL.
to raise the dead, with utter unconcern; and one. reason,
of this insensibility is, that teaching in early life was so
mechanical, that religion was lodged in the memory and,
the unthinking belief, whilst the reason was not awakened, nor the conscience nor the heart moved.  According to the common modes of instruction, the.minds of
the young become worn to great truths.  By reading the
Scriptures wvithout thought  or feeling, their minds are
dulled to its most touching and sublime passages; and,
when once a passage lies dead in the mind, its resurrection to life and power is a most difficult work.  Here
lies the great danger of Sunday-schools.  Let us never
forget, that their end is to awaken life in the minds and
hearts of the young.
III. I now proceed to consider what is to be taught
in the Sunday-schools, to accomplish the great end of
which I have spoken; * and this may seem  soon settled., Should I ask you -what is to be taught in the Sundayschool, the answer would be, "' The Christian religion.
The'nstitution is a Christian one, a-nd has for its end the
communication of Christian truth."   I acquiesce in the
answer; but the question then comes, " In what forms
shall the religion be taught, so as to wake uap the life of
the child?  Shall a catechism  be taught? "  I say, No.
A  catechisml is a skeleton, a dead letter, a petrifaction.
Wanting life, it can give none.  A  cold abstraction, it
cannot but make religion repul:sive to pupils whose age
* In the remarks which I am, to make on what is to be taught in the
Sunday-school, I take it for granted that this school is the first stage of as
course of religious instruction, not the whole course; that it prepares for,
but does not include Bible classes, and other classes in which the most
difficult books of Scripture, the evidences of natural and revealed religior,
and a system. of moral philosophy, should be taultihL.




~'HE SUNDAY SC'OOUL              365
demands that truth should be embodied, set before their
eyes, bound up with real life.  A catechism, by being
systematical, may give a certain order and method to
teaching; but systems of theology aire out of place in
Sunday-schools.  They belong to the end, not the beginning, of religious teaching.  Besides they are so generally the constructions of human ingenuity rather than
the living forms of divine wisdom; they gave such undue
prominence to doctrines which have been lifted into importance only by the accident of having been made matters of controversy.; they so often sacrifice common
sense, the plain dictates of reason and conscience, to
the preservation of what is called consistency; they lay
such fetters on teacher and learner, and prevent so
much the free action of'tle mind and heart, that they
seldom enter the Sunday-school but to darken and mislead it.
The Christian religion should be learned not from
catechisms and systems, but fronm the Scriptures, and
especially from  that part -of thie Scriptures in which it
especially resides, in the lhistories, actions, words, sufferings, triumplls of Jesus Christ.  The Gospels, the Gospels, these should be the text-book of Sun!day-schools.
They are more adapted to the child than any other part
of Scripture.  They are full of life, reality, beauty,
power, and in skilful hands are fitted above all writing
to awaken spiritual life in old and young.
The Gospels are to be the study of the Sundayschool teacher, and of all who teach the young; and the
great object of study must be, to penetrate to the spirit
of these divine writings, and, above all things, to comprehenad the spirit, character, purpose, motives, love of Jesus Christ.  He is to be the great study.  In himn, his
31t'




366              T'HE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
religion is revealed as nowhere else.  Much attention' is
now given, and properly given,, by teachers to what may
be called the letter of the Gospels, to the geography of
the country where Christ lived, to the customs to which
he refers, to the state of society which surrounded him.This knowledge is of great utility.  We should strive to
learn the circumstances in which Jesus was placed and
lived, as thoroughly as those, of our own times. We
should study the men among whom he lived, their opinions and passions, their hopes and expectations, the sects
who hated and opposed him, the superstitions which prevailed among the learned and the multitude, and strive to
see all these things as vividly as if we had lived at the
very moment of Christ's- ministry.  But all. this knowledge is to be gained not for its own sake, but as a meansof bringing us near to Jesus, of letting us into the secrets
of his mind, of revealing to us his spirit and character,
and of bringing out the full purpose and import of all that
he did and said.  It is only by knowing the people
among whom he was born, and brought up, and lived,
and died, that we can fully comprehend the originality,
strength, and dignity of his character, his unborrowed,
self-subsistwg excellence, his miraculous love.  We
have very few of us a conception, how  Jesus stood
alone in the age in which he lived, how unsustained he
was in his great work, how he found not one mind to
comprehend his own a not one friend to sympathize with
his great purpose, how every outward influence withstood him; and, for want of this conception, we do not
regard Jesus with the interest which his character should
inspire.
The teachers of the young should strive to be at
home with Jesus, to know him familiarly, to form  a




THE SUNDAY- SCHOOL.            367
clear, vivid, bright idea of him, to see him just as he
appeared on earth, to see him  in the very dress in
which he manifested himself to the men of his age.
They should follow him to the temple, to the mountain
top, to the shores of the sea of Galilee, and should understand the mixed feelings of the crowd around him,
should see the scowl of the Pharisee who listened to
catch his words for some matter of accusation, the imploring look of the diseased seeking healing from  his
words, the gaze of wonder amoug the ignorant, and
the delighted, affectionate, reverential eagerness with
which the single-hearted and humble hung on his lips.
Just in proportion as we can place ourselves near to
Christ, his wisdom, love, greatness will break forth,
and we shall be able to bring him near to the mind of
the child.
The truth is, that few of us apprehend vividly the
circumstances under which Jesus lived and taught, and
therefore much of the propriety, beauty, and authority
of his character is lost.  For example, his outward condition is not made real to us.  The pictures which the
great artists have left us of Jesus, have helped to lead
us astray.  He is there seen with a glory around his
head, and arrayed in a robe of grace and majesty. Now
Jesus was a poor man; he had lived and'wrought as a
carpenter, and he came in the dress common to those
with whom he had grown up.  His chosen companions
were natives of an obscure province, despised for its
ignorance and rude manners, and they followed him in
the garb of men who were accustomed to live by daily
tbil.  Such was the outward condition of Jesus.  Such
was his manifestation to a people burning with expectation of a splendid, conquering deliverer; and in such




368              THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
circumstances he spoke with an authority which awed
both high and low.  In learning the outward circumstances of Jesus, we not merely satisfy a natural curiosity, but obtain a help towards understanding his character and the spirit of his religion.  His condition reveals'to us the force and dignity of his mind, which
could dispense with the ordinary means of inspiring respect.  It shows the deep sympathy of Christ with the
poor of our race, for among these he chose to live.  It
speaks condemnation to those who, professing to believe in Chri-t, separate themselves from the. multitude
of men because of the accident of wealth, and attach
ideas of superiority to dress and show.  From  this illustration you may learn the importance of being acquainted with every part of Christ's history, with his
common life, as well as his more solemn actions and
teachings.  Every thing relating to him  breathes instruction and gives the teacher a power over the mind
of the child.
The Gospels must be the. great study to the Sundayschool teacher.  Many, when they hear of studying the
New Testament, imagine that they must examine commentators to understand better the difficult texts, the
dark passages in that book.  I mean something very
different.'Strive indeed to clear up as far as you can
the obscure portions of Christ's teaching.  There are
texts, which, in consequence of their connexion with
forgotten circumstances of the time, are now of uncertain meaning.  But do not think that the most important
truths of Christianity are locked up in these dark passages of the New Testament.  There is nothing in the
dark, which is not to be found in the plain, portions I:f
Scripture.  Perhaps the highest use of examining dil



TlHE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.                      369
ficult texts, is to discover their harmony with those that
are clear.  The parts of the Gospel, which the Sundayschool teacher should  most study, are those which  need
no great elucidation from criticism, the parables, the
miracles, the  actions, the  suffering, the  prayers, the
tears  of Jesus; and these  are to  be  studied, that the
teacher may  learn  the  spirit, the  soul of Christ, may
come near to that wonderful being, may learn the great
purpose to which he was devoted, the affections which
overflowed his heart, the depth and expansiveness of his
love, the profoundness of his wisdom, the unconquerable  strength  of his trust in  God.i    The  character of
Christ is the sum  of his religion.   It is the clearest, the
most beautiful manifestation  of the  character of God,
far more clear and touching  than  all the  teachings of
nature.   It is also the brightest revelation to us of the
Moral Perfection  which  his precepts  enjoin, of disinterested  love to God  and  man, of faithfulness to principle, of fearlessness in duty, of superiority to the world,
of delight in the Good and the True.   The  expositions
of the Christian virtues in all the volumes of all ages,
Commentaries have their use, but not the highest use. They explain
the letter of Christianity, give the meaning of words, remove obscurities
from the sense, and so far they do great good; but the life, the power, the
spirit of Christianity, they do not unfold. They do not lay open to us the
heart of Christ. I remember that a short time.ago I was reading a book,
not intended to be a religious one, in which some remarks were offered on
the conduct of Jesus, as, just before his death, he descended from the
Mount of Olives, and amidst a crowd of shouting disciples looked on
Jerusalem, the city of his murderers, which in a few hours was to be
stained with his innocent blood. The conscious greatness with which he
announced the ruin of that proud metropolis and its venerated temple, and
nis deep sympathy with its approaching woes, bursting forth in tears, and
making him forget for a moment his own near agonies and the shouts
of the surrounding multitude, were brought to my mind more distinctly
than ever before; and I felt that this more vivid apprehension of Jesus
was worth more than much of the learning in which commentators abound.




370              T'E SUNDAY - SCHOOL.
are cold and dark compared'with the genial light and the
warm coloring in whIich Christ's character sets before us
the spirit of his religion, the perfection of our nature.
The great work, then, of the Sunday-school teacher,
is to teach Christ, and to teach him  not as set forth in
creeds and human systems, but as living and moving
in the simple histories of the Evangelists.  Christ is to
be taught; and by this I mean, not any mystical doctrine about his nature, not the doctrine of the Trinity,
but the spirit of Christ, breathing forth in all that he
said and all that he did.  We should seek, that the
child should know his heavenly friend and Saviour with
the distinctness with which he knows an earthly friend;
and this knowledge is not to be given by teaching him
dark notions about Christ, which have perplexed and
convulsed the church for ages.  The doctrine of the
Trinity seems to me only fitted to throw a mistiness
over Christ, to place him beyond the reach of our understanding and hearts.  When I am  told that Jesus
Christ is the second person in the Trinity, one of three,
persons, who constitute one God, one Infinite mind, I
am plunged into an abyss of darkness.  Jesus becomes
to me the most unintelligible being in the universe.
God I can know.  Man I can understand.  But Christ,
as described in human creeds, a compound being, at
once man and God, a once infinite in wisdom  and ignorant of innumerable truths, and who is so united with
two other persons as to make with them one mind,
Christ so represented baffles all my faculties.  I cannot
lay hold on him.  My -weak intellect is wholly at fault;
and I cannot believe that the child's intellect can better apprehend him.  This is a grave objection to the
doctrine of the Trinity.   It destroys the reality, the




THE SUNDAY-SCHIOOL.             371
distinctness, the touching nearness of Jesus Christ.  It
gives him an air of fiction, and has done more than all
things to prevent a true, deep acquaintance with him,
with his spirit, with the workings of his mind, with the
sublimity of his virtue.  It has thrown a glare over him.,
under which the bright and beautiful features of his character have been very much concealed.
From what I have said, you see what I suppose the
Sunday-school teacher is to learn and teach.  It is the
Christian religion as unfolded in the plainest portions
of the Gospel.  Before leaving this topic, I wish to
offer some remarks, which may prevent all misapprehension of what I have said.  I have spoken against
teaching Christianity to children as a system.  I have
spoken of the inadequacy of catechisms. In thus speaking, I do not mean that the teacher shall have nothing
systematic in his knowledge.  Far from  it.  He must
not satisfy himself with studying separate actions, words,
and miracles of Jesus.  He must look at Christ's history and teaching as a whole, and observe the great features of his truth and goodness, the grand characteristics
of his system, and in this way learn what great impressions he must strive to make on the child, by the particular facts and precepts which each lesson presents.
There ought to be a unity in the mind of the teacher.
His instructions must not be loose fragments, but be
bound together by great views.  Perhaps you may ask,
what are these great views of Christianity, which pervade it throughout, and to which the mind of the learner
must be continually turned?  There are three, which
seem to me especially prominent, the Spirituality of the
religion, its.Disinterestedness, and, lastly, the vastness,
the Infinity of its Prospects.




372               THE SUNDAY- SCHOOL.
The first great feature of Christianity which should
be brought out continually to the child, is its Spirituality.  Christ is a spiritual deliverer.  His salvation is
inward.  This great truth cannot be too much insisted
on.  Christ's salvation is within.  The evils from which
he comes to release us are inward.  The felicity which
he came to give is inward, and therefore everlasting.
tarry then your pupils into  themselves.  Awake in
them, as far as possible, a consciousness of their spiritual nature, of the infinite riches which are locked up
in reason, in conscience, in the power of knowing God,
loving goodness, and practising duty; and use all the
history and teachings of Christ, to set him before them
as the fountain of life and light to their souls.  For
example, when his reign, kingdom, power, authority,
throne, are spoken of, guard them  against attaching an
outward import to these words; teach them that they
mean not an outward empire, but the purifying, elevating influence of his character, truth, spirit, on the human mind.  Use all his miracles as types, emblems, of
a spiritual salvation.  When  your pupils read of his
giving sight to the blind, let them  see in this a manifestation of his character as the Light of the world; and,
in the joy of the individual whose eyes were opened
from  perpetual night on the beauty of nature, let thenm
see a figure of the happiness of the true disciple, who,
by following Christ, is brought to the vision of a more
glorious luminary than the sun, and of a more majestic
and enduring universe than material worlds.  When the
p'recepts of Christ are the subjects of conversation, turn
the mind of the child to their spiritual import.  Let
him see, that the worth of the action lies in the principle, motive, purpose, from wh;ch it springs; that love




THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.             373
to God,. not outward worship, and love to man, not
outward deeds, are the very essence, soul, centre, of
the Christian law.  Turn his attention to the singular
force and boldness of language, in which Jesus calls to
rise above the body and the world, above the pleasures
and pains of the senses, above wealth and show, above
every outward good.  In speaking of the promises and
threatenings of Christianity, do not speak as if goodness
were to be sought and sin shunned for their outward
consequences; but express your deep conviction, that
goodness is its own reward, worth infinitely more than
all outward recompense, and that sin is its own curse,
and more to be dreaded on its own account, than a
burning hell.  When God is the subject of conversation, do not spend all your strength in talking of what
he has made around you; do not point the young to his
outward works as his chief manifestations.  Lead them
to think of him as revealed in their own minds, as the
Father of their spirits, as more intimately present with
their souls than with the sun, and teach them to account
as his best gifts, not outward possessions, but the silent
influences of his spirit, his communications of light to
their minds, of warmth and elevation to their feelings,
and of force to their resolution of well-doing.  Let the
spirituality of Christianity shine forth in all your teachings.  Let the young see how superior Jesus was to
outward things, how he looked down on wealth and
show as below his notice, how he cared nothing for
outward distinctions, how the beggar by the road-side
received from him marks of deeper interest than Pilate
on his judgment-seat or Herod on his throne, how he
looked only at the human spirit and sought nothing but
its recovery and life.
VOL. iv.              32




374               THE SUNDAY- SCHOOL.
I have spoken of the  Spirituality  of Christianity
The next great feature of the religion to be constantly
set before the child, is its Disinterestedness.  The essence of Christianity is generous affection.  Nothing so
distinguishes it as generosity.  Disinterested love not
only breaks out in separate teachings of Christ; it
spreads like the broad light of heaven over the whole religion. Every precept is but an aspect, an expression
of generous love.  This prompted every word, guided
every step, of Jesus.  It was the life of his ministry;
it warmed his heart in death; it flowed out with his
heart's blood.  The pupil should be constantly led to
see and feel this divine spirit pervading the religion.
The Gospels should be used to inspire him with reverence for generous self-sacrifice and with aversion to
every thing narrow and mean.  Let him learn that he is
not to live for himself; that he has a heart to be given
to God and to his fellow-creatures; that he is to do the
will of God, not in a mercenary spirit, but from gratitude, filial love, and from  sincere delight in goodness;
that he is to prepare himself to toil and suffer for his
race.  The cross, that emblem  of self-sacrifice, that
highest form of an all-surrendering love, is to be set before him as the standard of his religion, the banner under
which he is to live, and, if God so require, to die.
There is one other great feature of Christianity, and
that is the vastness, the Infinity of its Prospects.  This
was revealed in the whole life of Jesus.  In all that he
said, we see his mind possessed with the thought of being ordained to confer an infinite good.  That teacher
knows little of Christ, who does not see him filled with
the consciousness of being the author of an everlasting
salvation and happiness to the human race.  IG I am the




THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.             375
resurrection and the life.  Hie that believeth on me shall
never see death." Such was his language, and such
never fell before from human lips.  When I endeavour
to bring to my mind the vast hopes which inspired him
as he pronounced these words, and his joy at the anticipation of the immortal fruits which his life and death
were to yield to our race, I feel how little his character
is yet understood by those who think of Jesus as a man
of sorrow, borne down habitually by a load of grief.
Constantly lead your pupils to observe, how real, deep,
and vivid was the impression on the mind of Jesus, of
that future, everlasting life, which he came to bestow.
Speak to them of the happiness with which he looked
on all human virtue, as being a germ which was to unfold
for ever, a fountain of living water which was to spring
up into immortality, a love which was to expand through
all ages and to embrace the universe.  It is through the
mind of Christ, living, as it did, in a higher world, that
they can best comprehend the reality and vastness of the
prospects of the human soul.
Such are the three great features of the religion which
the teacher should bring most frequently to the mind of
the child.  In these, as in all my preceding remarks,
you perceive the importance which I attach to the character of Christ, as the great means of giving spiritual
light and life to the mind.  The Gospels, in which he is
placed before us so vividly, are in truth the chief repositories of divine wisdom.  The greatest productions of
human genius have little quickening power in comparison with these simple narratives.  In reading the Gospels, I feel myself in presence of one who speaks as
man never spake; whose voice is not of the earth  who
speaks with a tone of reality and authority altogether his




376              THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL
own; who speaks of God as conscious of his immediate presence, as enjoying with him the intimacy of an
only Son; and who speaks of heaven, as most familiar
with the higher states of being. Great truths come from
Jesus with a simplicity, an ease, showing how  deeply
they pervaded and possessed his mind.  No books astonish me like the Gospels.. Jesus, the hero of the story, is a more extraordinary being than imagination has
feigned, and yet his character has an impress of nature,
consistency, truth, never surpassed.  You have all seen
portraits, which, as soon as seen, you felt to be likenesses, so living were they, so natural, so true.  Such
is the impression made on my mind by the Gospels. I
believe that you or I could lift mountains or create a
world as easily as fanaticism or imposture could have
created such a character and history as that of Jesus
Christ.  I have read the Gospels for years, and seldom
read them now without gaining some new or more striking view of the great teacher and deliverer whom they
portray.  Of all books, they deserve most the study of
youth and age.:Happy the Sunday-school in which
their spirit is revealed!
But I have not yet said every thing in favor of them
as the great sources of instruction.  I have said, that
the Christian religion is to be taught from the Gospels.
This is their great, but not their only use.  Much incidental instruction is to be drawn from them.  There are
two great subjects on which it is very desirable to give
to the young the light they can receive, human nature
and human life; and on these points the Gospels furnish
occasions of much useful teaching.  They give us not
only the life and character of Christ, but place him
before us in the midst of human beings and of human




TaIE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.             377
ifairs.  Peter, the ardent, the confident, the false, the
penitent Peter; the affectionate J.hn; the treacherous
Judas, selling his Master for gold; Mary, the mother,
at the cross; Mary Magdalen at the tomb; the woman,
who had been a sinner, bathing his feet with tears, and
wiping them with the hair of her head;-  what revelations of the human soul are these! What depths of our
nature do they lay open! It is a remarkable fact, that
the great masters of painting have drawn their chief subjects from the New Testament; so full is this volume
of the most powerful and touching exhibitions of human
character.  And how much instruction does this book
convey in regard to life as well as in regard to the soul!
I do not know a more affecting picture of human experience than the simple narrative of Luke;-" When
Jesus came nigh to the city, behold, there was a dead
man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she
was a widow; and much people of the city was with
her." The Gospels show us fellow beings in all varieties of condition, the blind man, the leper, the rich
young ruler, the furious multitude. They give practical
views of life, which cannot be too early impressed.
They show us, in the history of Jesus and his Apostles,
that true greatness may be found in the humblest ranks,
and that goodness, in proportion as it becomes eminent,
exposes itself to hatred and repiroach, so that we must
make up our minds, if we wTould be faithful, to encounter shame and loss for God and duty.  In truth, all the
variety of wisdom which youth needs, may be extracted
from these writings.  The Gospels, then, are to be the
great study of the Sunday-school.
I cannot close these remarks- on what is to be taught
32 *




378              TIlE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
in the Sunday-school, without repeating what I have said
of the chief danger of this institution.  I refer to the
danger of mechanical teaching, by which the young
mind becomes worn, deadened to the greatest truths.
The Gospels, life-giving as they are, may be rendered
wholly inoperative by the want of life in the instructor.
So great is my dread of tame, mechanical teaching, that
I am sometimes almost tempted to question the utility of
Sunday-schools.  We, Protestants, in our zeal for the
Bible, are apt to forget, that the very commonness of
the book tends to impair its power, that familiarity
breeds indifference, and that no book, therefore, requires
such a living power in the teacher.  He must beware,
lest he make the Gospels trite by too frequent repetition.
It will often be best for him to assist his pupils in extracting the great principle of truth involved in a precept, parable, or action of Jesus, and to make this the
subject of conversation, without farther reference to the
text by which it was suggested.  If he can lead them
by fit questions, to find this principle in their own consciousness and experience, in their own moral judgments and feelings, and to discover how it should be
applied to their characters and brought out in their
common lives, he will not only convey the -most important instruction, but will give new vividness and
interest to the Scriptures and a deeper conviction of
their truth, by showing how  congenial they are with
human nature, and how intimately connected with human
affairs and with real life.  Let me also mention, as another means of preserving the Scriptures from degradation by too frequent handling, that extracts from biograph ), history, natural science, fitted to make religious




THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.              379
impressions, should be occasionally introduced into the
Sunday-school.   Such seems to me the instruction
which the ends of this institution require.
IV. We have now seen what is to be taught in the.
Sunday-school, and the question now comes, Hlow shall
it be taught?  This is my last head, and not the least
important.  On the manner of teaching, how much depends! I fear it is not sufficiently studied by Sundayschool instructors.   They meet generally, and ought
regularly to meet, to prepare themselves for their tasks.
But their object commonly is to learn wohat they are
to teach, rather than how to teach it; but the last requires equal attention with the first, I had almost said
more.  From  deficiency in this, we sometimes see that
an instructor, profoundly acquainted with his subject,
is less successful in teaching than another of comparatively superficial acquisitions; h knows much, but does
not know the way to the child's mind and heart.  The
same truth, which attracts and impresses from one man's
lips, repels firom another.  At the meeting of the Sunday-school teachers, it is not enough to learn the meaning of the portion of Scripture which is to be the subject of the next lesson; it is more important to select
fiom it the particular topics which are adapted to the
pupil's comprehension, and still more necessary to inquire, under what lights or aspects they may be brought
to his view, so as to arrest attention and reach the heart.
A principal end in the meeting of teachers should be
to learn the art of teaching, the way of approach to the
youthful mind.
The first aim of the teacher will of course be, to fix
the attention of the pupil.  It is in vain that you have




380              TIE SUNDAY- SCHOOL. 
his body in the school-room, if his mind is wanderin~
beyond it, or  refuses to fasten itself on the topic of
discourse.  In common schools attention is fixed by a
severe discipline, incompatible with the spirit of Sundayschools.  Of course the teacher must aim  to secure it
by a moral influence over the youthful mind.
As the first means of establishing an influence over
the young, I would say, you nlust love them.  Nothing
attracts like love. Children are said to be shrewd physiognomists, and read as by instinct our feelings in our
countenances; they know and are drawn to their friends.
I recently asked, how a singularly successful teacher in
religion obtained his remarkable ascendency over the
young.  The reply was, that his whole intercourse expressed affection.  His secret was a sincere love.
The next remark is, that, to awaken in the young
an interest in what you teach, you must take an interest in it yourselves.:,You must not only understand,
but feel, the truth.  Your manner must have the natural
animation, which always accompanies a work into which
our hearts enter.  Accordingly, one of the chief qualifications of a Sunday-school teacher is religious sensibility.  Old and young are drawn by a natural earn~estness of manner.  Almost any subject may be made
interesting, if the teacher will but throw into it his soul
Another important rule is, Let your teaching be intelligible.  Children will not listen to words which excite no ideas, or only vague and misty conceptions.
Speak to them in the familiar, simple language of cornmon life, and if the lesson have difficult terms, define them.  Children love light, not darkness.  Choose
topics of conversation to which their minds are equal,
and pass from one to another by steps which the yoiung




THE SUNDAY- SCHOOL.             381
can follow. Be clear, and you will do much towards
being interesting teachers.
Another suggestion is, Teach  much by questions.
These stimulate, stir up the young mind, and make it
its own teacher.  They: encourage the spirit of inquiry,
the habit of thought.  Questions, skilfully proposed,
turn the child to his own consciousness and experience,
and will often'draw  out from  his own soul the truth
which you wish to impart; and no lesson is so well
learned, as that which a man or a child teaches himself.
Again, Teach graphically where you can.  That is,
when you are discoursing of any narrative of Scripture,
or relating an- incident from  other sources try to seize
its great points and to place it before the eyes of your
pupils.  Cultivate the power of description.  A  story
well told, and in which the most important particulars
are brought out in a strong light, not only fixes attention, but often carries a truth farthest into the soul.
Another rule is, Lay the chief stress on what is most
important in religion.  Do not conduct the child over
the Gospels as over a dead level.  Seize on the great
points, the great ideas.  Do not confound the essential
and the unessential, or insist with the same earnestness on grand, comprehensive, life-giving truths, and
on disputable articles of faith.  Immense injury is done
by teaching doubtful or secondary doctrines as if they
were the weightiest matters of Christianity; for, as time
rolls over the child, and his mind unfolds, he discovers
that one and another dogma, which he was taught to
regard as fundamental, is uncertian if not false, and
his skepticism  is apt to spread from  this weak point
over the whole Christian system.  Make it your aim
to fix in your pupils the grand principles in which the




382              THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
essence of Christianity consists, and which all time and
experience serve to confirm; and, in doing this, you will
open the mind to all truth as fast as it is presented in
the course of Providence.
Another rule is, Carry a cheerful spirit into religious
teaching.  Do not merely speak of Christianity as the
only fountain of happiness.  Let your tones and words
bear witness to its benignant, cheering influence. Youth
is the age of joy and hope, and nothing repels it more
than gloom. Do not array religion in terror. Do not
make God a painful thought by speaking of him as present only to see and punish sin.  Speak of his fatherly
interest in the young with a warm heart and a beaming
eye, and encourage their filial approach and prayers.
On this part, however, you must beware of sacrificing
truth to the desire of winning your pupil.  Truth, truth
in her severest as well as mildest forms, must be placed
before the young.  Do not, to attract them  to duty;
represent it as a smooth and flowery path.  Do not tell
them that they can become good, excellent, generous,
holy, without effort and pain.  Teach them  that the
sacrifice of self-will, of private interest, and pleasure,
to others' rights and happiness, to the dictates of conscience, to the will of God, is the very essence of piety
and goodness.  But at the same time teach them, that
there is a pure, calm joy, an inward peace, in surrendering every thing to duty, which can be found in no
selfish success. Help them to sympathize with the toils,
pains, sacrifices of the philanthropist, the martyr, the
patriot, and inspire contempt of fear and peril in adhering to truth and God.
I will add one more rule. Speak of duty, of religion,
as something real, just as you speak of the interests of




TIHE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.            383
this life. Do not speak, as if you were repeating words
received fiom tradition, but as if you were talking of
things which you have seen and known. Nothing attracts old and young more than a tone of reality, the
natural tone of strong conviction.  Speak to them of
God as a real being, of heaven as a real state, of duty
as a real obligation.  Let them  see, that you regard
Christianity as intended to bear on real and common life,
that you expect every principle which you teach to be
acted out, to be made a rule in the concerns of every
day.  Show the application of Christianity to the familiar scenes and pursuits of life.  Bring it out to them
as the Great Reality.  So teach, and you will not teach
in vain.
I have thus set before you the principles on which
Sunday-schools should rest, and by which they should
be guided.  If they shall, in any degree. conform  to
these principles, and I trust they will, you cannot, my
friends, cherish them with too much care.  Their purpose cannot be spoken of too strongly.  Their end Is,
the moral and religious education of the young, and this
is the most pressing concern of our times. In all times,
indeed, it has strong claims; but it was never, perhaps,
so important as now, and never could its neglect induce
such fearful consequences.  The present is a season of
great peril to the rising generation.  It is distinguished
by a rernarkable.developement of human power, activity,
and freedom.  The progress of science has given men
a new control of nature, and in this way has opened
new sources of wealth and multiplied the means of indulgence, and in an equal degree multiplied temptations
to worldliness, cupidity, and crime.  Our times are still




384              THE SUNDAY.SCHOOL.
more distinguished by the spirit of liberty and innovation.
Old institutions and usages, the old restraints on the
young, have been broken down. Men of all conditions
and ages think, speak, write, act, with a freedom  unknown before.  Our times have their advantages.  But
we must not hide from ourselves our true position.
This increase of power and freedom, of which I have
spoken, tends, in the first instance, to unsettle moral
principles, to give to men's minds a restlessness, a want
of stability, a wildness of opinion, an extravagance of
desire, a bold, rash, reckless spirit., These are times
of great moral danger.  Outward restraints are removed
to an unprecedented degree, and consequently there is a
need of inward restraint, of the controlling power of
a pure religion, beyond what was ever known before.
The principles of the young are exposed to fearful assaults, and they need to be fortified with peculiar care.
Temptations throng on the rising generation with new
violence, and the power to withstand them must be proportionably increased.  Society never needed such zealous efforts, such unslumbering watchfulness for its safety,
as at this moment; and without faithfulness on the part
of parents and good men, its bright prospects may be
turned into gloom.
Sunday-schools belong to this period of society.
They grow naturally from  the extension of knowledge,
in consequence of which more are qualified to teach
than in former times, and they are suited to prepare the
young for the severe trials which await them in life.
As such, let them  be cherished.  The great question
for parents to ask is, how they may strengthen their
children against temptation, how they can imnplant in.them principles of duty, purposes of virtue, which will




THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.              385
withstand all storms, and which will grow up into all that
is generous, just, beautiful, and holy in feeling and action.  The question, how  your children may prosper
most in life should be secondary.  Give them  force of
character, and you give them more than a fortune.
Give them pure and lofty principles, and you give them
more than thrones.  Instil into them Christian benevolence and the love of God, and you enrich them more
than by laying worlds at their feet.  Sunday-schools are
meant to aid you in the great work of forming your children to true excellence.  I say they are meant to aid
you, not to relieve you from.the work, not to be your
substitutes, not to diminish domestic watchfulness and
teaching, but to concur with you; to give you fellowlaborers, to strengthen your influence over your children.
Then give these schools your hearty support, without
which they cannot prosper.  Your children should be
your first care. You indeed sustain interesting relations
to society, but your great relation is to your children;
and in truth you cannot discharge your obligations to society by any service so effectual, as by training up for it
enlightened and worthy members in the bosom of the
family and the church.
Like all schools, the Sunday-school must owe its
influence to its teachers. I would, therefore, close this
discourse with saying, that the most gifted in our congregation cannot find a worthier field of labor than the
Sunday-school.  The noblest work on earth is to act
with an elevating power on a human spirit.  The greatest men of past times have not been politicians or warriors, who have influenced the outward policy or grandeur of kingdoms; but men, who, by their deep wisdom
and generous sentitents, have given light antid life to tlihe
VOL. Iv.              33




386              THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
minds and hearts of their own age, and left a legacy of
truth and virtue to posterity. Whoever, in the humblest
sphere, imparts God's truth to one human spirit, partakes their glory.  He labors on an immortal nature.
He is laying the foundation of imperishable excellence
and happiness.  His work, if he succeed, will outlive
empires and the stars.




THE PHILANTHROPIST.
A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE REV. NOAH
WORCESTER, D. D.
BOSTON, NOVEMBER 12, 1837.
JOHN xiii. 34: " A new commandment I give unto you, That ye
love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one
another."
IT was the great purpose of Christ to create the world
anew, to make a deep, broad, enduring change in human
beings.  He came to breathe his own soul into men, to
bring them through faith into a connexion and sympathy
with himself, by which they would receive his divine
virtue, as the branches receive quickening influences
from the vine in which they abide, and the limbs from
the head to which they are vitally bound.
It was especially the purpose of Jesus Christ to redeem men fiom the slavery of selfishness, to raise them
to a divine, disinterested love.  By this he intended that
his followers should be known, that his religion should
be broadly divided from  all former institutions.  He
meant that this should be worn as a frontlet on the brow,
should beam  as a light from the countenance, should
shed a grace over the manners, should give'tones of




388              THE PHILANTIIROPIST.
sympathy to the voice, and especially should give energy
to the will, energy to do and suffer for others' good.
Here is one of the grand distinctions of Christianity,
incomparably grander than all the mysteries which have
borne its name.  Our knowledge of Christianity is to be
measured, not by the laboriousness with which we have
dived into the depths of theological systems, but by our
comprehension of the nature, e       energy and glory
of that disinterested principle, which Christ enjoined
as our likeness to God, and as the perfection of human
nature.
This disinterestedness of Christianity is to be learned
from Christ himself, and firom no other.  It had dawned
on the world before in illustrious men, in prophets, sages,
and legislators.  But its full orb rose at Bethlehem.
All the preceding history of the world gives but broken
hints of the love which shone forth from  Christ.  Nor
can this be learned fiom  his precepts alone.  We must
go to his life, especially to his cross.  His cross was
the throne of his love.  There it reigned, there it triumphed.  On the countenance of the crucified Saviour
thore was one expression stronger than of dying agony,
-the expression of calm, meek, unconquered, boundless love.  I repeat it, the cross alone can teach us the
energy and grandeur of the love which Christ came to
impart.  There we see its illimitableness; for he died
for the whole world.  There we learn its inexhaustible
placability; for he died for the very enemies whose
hands were reeking with his blood.  There we learn its
self-immolating strength; for he resigned every good
of life, and endured intensest pains in the cause of our
race.  There we learn its spiritual elevation; for he
died not to enrich men with outward and worldly goods,




T'HE PILANTHROPIST.              38'9
but to breathe new life, health, purity, into the soul.
There we learn its far-reaching aim; for he died to give
immortality of happiness.  There we learn its tenderness and sympathy; for amidst his cares for the world,
his heart overflowed with gratitude and love for his honored Inother.  There, in a word, we learn its Divinity;
for he suffered through his participation of the spirit and
his devotion to the purposes of God, through unity of
heart and will with his Heavenly Father.
It is one of our chief privileges as Christians, that we
have in Jesus Christ a revelation of perfect love.  This
great idea comes forth to us from his life and teaching, as
a distinct and bright reality.  To understand this is to
understand Christianity.  To call forth in us a corresponding energy of disinterested affection, is the mission
which Christianity has to accomplish on the earth.
There is one characteristic of the love of Christ, to
which the Christian world are now waking up as from
long sleep, and which is to do more than all things for
the renovation of the world. He loved individual man.
Before his time the most admired form of goodness was
patriotism.   Men loved their country, but cared nothing
for their fellow-creatures beyond the limits of country,
and cared little for the individual within those limits, devoting themselves to public interests, and especially to
what was called the glory of the State.  The legislator,
seeking by his institutions to exalt his country above its
rivals, and the warrior, fastening its yoke on its foes and
crowning it with bloody laurels, were the great names of
earlier times.  Christ loved man, not masses of men;
loved each and all, and not a particular country and
class.  The human being was dear to him  for his own
sake, not for the spot of earth on which he lived, not for
33 *




390              THE PHILANTHROPIST.
the language he spoke, not for his rank in life, but for his
humanity, for his spiritual nature, for the image of God
in which he was made.  Nothing outward in human condition engrossed the notice or narrowed the sympathies
of Jesus.  He looked to the human soul.  That he
loved.  That divine spark he desired to cherish, no
matter where it dwelt, no matter how it was dimmed.
HI-e loved man for his own sake, and all men without exclusion or exception.  His ministry was not confined to
a -church, a chosen congregation.  On the Mount he
opened his mouth and spake to the promiscuous multitude.  From the bosom of the lake he delivered his parables to the throng which lined its shores.  HIis church
was nature, the unconfined air and earth; and his truths,
like the blessed influences of nature's sunshine and rain,
fell on each and all. He lived in the highway, the street,
the places of concourse, and welcomed the eager crowds
which gathered round him from every sphere and rank of
life. Nor was it to crowds that his sympathy was confined.  He did not need a multitude to excite him.
The humblest individual drew his regards.  He took the
little child into his arms and blessed it; he heard the
beggar crying to him by the wayside where he sat for
alms; and in the anguish of death, he administered consolation to a malefactor expiring at his side.  In this
shone forth the divine wisdom as well as love of Jesus,
that he understood the worth of a human being.  So
truly did he comprehend it, that, as I think, he would have
counted himself repaid for all his teachings and mighty
works, for all his toils, and sufferings, and bitter death,
oy the redemption of a single soul.  His love to every
human being surpassed that of a parent to an only child.
Jesus was great in all things, but in nothing greater than




THE P-ILANTHROPIST.           391 
in his comprehension of the worth of a human spirit.
Before his time no one dreamed of it. The many had
been sacrificed to the few.  The mass of men had been
trodden under foot.  History had been bit a record of
struggles and institutions which breathed nothing so
strongly as contempt of the human race.
Jesus was the first philanthropist.  He brought with
him a new era, the era of philanthropy; and from his
time a new spirit has moved over the troubled waters of
society, and will move until it has brought order and
beauty out of darkness and confusion.  The men whom
he trained, and into whom he had poured most largely
his own spirit, were signs, proofs, that a new kingdom
had come.  They consecrated themselves to a work at
that time without precedent, wholly original, such as had
not entered human thought.  They left home, possessions, country; went abroad into strange lands; and not
only put life in peril, but laid it down, to spread the
truth which they had received from their Lord, to make
the true God, even the Father, known to his blinded
children, to make the Saviour known to the sinner, to
make life and immortality known to the dying, to give a
new impulse to the human soul. We read of the mission of the Apostles as if it were a thing of course.
The thought perhaps never comes to us, that they entered
on a sphere of action until that time wholly unexplored;
that not a track had previously marked their path; that
the great conception which inspired them, of converting
a world, had never dawned on the sublimest intellect;
that the spiritual love for every human being, which carried them over ocbans and through deserts, amid scourgings and fastings, and inmprisonments and death, was a
new light from heaven breaking out on earth, a new revw




.392             THIE PH.fLANT ROPlST1,.
elation of the divinity in human nature.  Then it wasg
that man began to- yearn for man with a godlike love,
Then a new voice was heard on earth, the voice of
prayer for the recevery, pardon, happiness of a world,
It was most strange, it was a miracle more worthy of
admiration than the raising of the dead, that from Judea,
the most exclusive, narrow country under heaven, which
hated and scorned all other nations, and shrunk from their'
touch as pollution, should go forth men to proclaim the
doctrine of human brotherlood, to give to every human:
being, however fallen or despised, assurances of God's
infinite love, to break down the barriers of nation and
rank, to pour out their blood like water in the work of
diffusing the spirit of universal love.  Thubs mightily did'
the character of Jesus act on the Spirits of the men withwhom he had lived.  Since that time the civilized world
has been overwhelmed by floods of barbarians, and ages
of darkness have passed.  But some rays of this divine'
light break on us through the thickest darkness.  The'
new impulse given by Christianity was never wholly
spent.  The rude sculpture of the dark ages represented
Jesus hanging from his cross; and however this image
was abused to purposes of superstition,- it still spoke to.
men of a philanthropy stronger than death, which felt
and suffered for every human being; and a softening,
humanizing virtue went from it, which even the barbariarn
could. not wholly resist. In our own times, the character
of Jesus is exerting more conspicuously its true and glorious power.  We have indeed little cause for boasting.
The great features of society are still hard and selfish,
The worth of a human being is a mystery still hid fromr
an immense majority, and the most enlightened among
us have not looked beneath the surface of this great truth-,




THE PHILANTHROPIST.              393
Still there is at this moment an interest in human nature,
a sympathy with human suffering, a sensibility to the
abuses and evils which deform  society, a faith in man's
capacity of progress, a desire of human progress, a desire to carry to evei'y human being the means of. rising
to a better condition and a higher virtue, such as has
never been witnessed before.  Amidst the mercenariness
which would degrade men into tools, and the ambition
which would tread them down in its march toward power, there is still a respect for man as man, a recognition
of his rights, a thirst for his elevation, which is the surest
proof of a higher comprehension of Jesus Christ, and
the surest augury of a happier state of human affairs.
Humanity and justice are crying out in more and more
piercing tones fbr the suffering, the enslaved, the ignorant,
the poor, the prisoner, the orphan, the long-neglected
seaman, the benighted heathen.  I do not refer merely
to new institutions for humanity, for these are not the most
unambiguous proofs of progress.  We see in the common consciousness of society, in the general feelings of
individuals, traces of a more generous recognition of
what man owes to man.  The glare of outward distinction is somewhat dimmed.  The prejudices of caste and
rank are abated.  A man is seen to be worth more than
his wardrobe or his title.  It begins to be understood
that a Christian is to be a philanthropist, and that, in
truth, the essence of Christianity is a spirit of martyrdom
in the cause of mankind.
This subject has been brought to my mind, at the
present moment, by an event in this vicinity, which hasdrawn little attention, but which I could not, without
self-reproach, suffer to pass unnoticed.  Within a few
ldays, a great and good man, a singular example of the




394              THE PIILANTHROPIS'T
philanthropy which Jesus Christ came to breathe into
the world, has been taken away; and as it was my happiness to know him  more intimately than most among
us, I feel as if I were called to bear a testimony to his
rare goodness, and to hold up his exanmple as a Inanifestation of what Christianity can accomplish in the human mind.  I refer to the Rev. Noath Worcester, who
has been justly called the Apostle of Peace, who finished his course at Brighlton daring the last week.  His
great age, for he was almost eighty, and the long and entire seclusion to which debility had coinpelled him, have
probably made his name a strange one to some who hear
me.  In truth, it is common in the present age, for eminent men to be forgotten during their lives, if their lives
are much prolonged.  Society is now  a quick-shifting
pageant.  New actors, hurry the old ones fiom the stage,
The former stability of things is strikingly iinpaired.
The authority which gathered round the aged has declined. The young seize impatiently the prizes of life.
The hurried, bustling, tumultuous, feverish Present,
swallows up men's thoughts, so that he who retires from
active pursuits is as little known to the rising generation
as if he were dead.  It is not wonderful, then, that Dr,
Worcester was so far forgotten by his contemporaries.
But the future will redress the wrongs of the present 
and in the progress of civilization, history will guarid
more and more sacredly the memories of men who have
advanced before their age, and devoted themselves to
great but neglected interests of humanity.
Dr. Worcester's efforts in relation to war, or in the
cause of peace, made him  eminently a public man, and
constitute his chief claim to public consideration; and
these were not founded on accidental circumstances.eor?




THE PHILANTHROPIST.             395
foreign influences, but wholly on the strong and peculiar
tendencies of his mind.  He was distinguished above
all whom I have known, by his comprehension and deep
feeling of the spirit of Christianity; by the sympathy
with which he seized on the character of Jesus Christ
as a manifestation of Perfect Love; by the honor in
which he held the mild, humble, forgiving, disinterested
virtues of our religion. This distinguishing trait of his
mind was embodied and brought out in his whole life
and Conduct.  He especially expressed it in his labors
for the promotion of Universal Peace on the earth.
He was struck, as no other man within my acquaintance
has been, with the monstrous incongruity between the
spirit of Christianity and the spirit of Christian communities; between Christ's teaching of peace, mercy,
forgiveness, and the wars which divide and desolate the
church and the world. Every man has particular impressions which rule over and give a hue to his mind.
Every man is struck by some evils rather than others.
The excellent individual of whom I speak was shocked,
heart-smitten, by nothing so much as by seeing that man
hates man, that man destroys his brother, that man has
drenched the earth with his brother's blood, that man,
in -his insanity, has crowned the murderer of his race
with the highest honors; and, still worse, that Christian hates Christian, that church wars against church,
that differences of forms and opinions array against each
other those whom Christ died to join together in closest
brotherhood, and that Christian zeal is spent in.building
up sects, rather than in spreading the spirit of Christ,
and enlarging and binding together the universal church.
The great evil on which his mind and heart fixed, was
War, Discord, Intolerance, the substitution of force for




396              THE PHILANTHROPIST.
Reason and Love.  To spread peace on earth becamne
the object of his life.  Under this impulse be gave birth
and impulse to Peace Societies.  This new movement
is to be traced to him  above all other len; and his
name, I doubt not, will be handed down to future time
with increasing veneration as the t" Friend of Peace,"
as having given new force to the principles which are
gradually to abate the horrors, and ultimately extinguish
the spirit of war.
The- history of the good man, as far as I have learned
it, is singularly instructive and encouraging.  tHe was
self-taught, self-formed.  He was born in narrow circumstances, and, to the age of twenty-one, was a laborious farmer, not only deprived of a collegiate education, but of the advantages which may be enjoyed in a
more prosperous family.  An early marriage brought
on him the cares of a growing family.  Still he found,
or rather made, time for sufficient improvements to introduce him  into the ministry before his thirtieth year.
He was first settled in a parish too poor to give him
even a scanty support; and he was compelled to take a
farm, on which he toiled by day, whilst in the evening
he was often obliged to use a mechanical art for the
benefit of his family.  He made their shoes-; an occupation of which- Coleridge has somewhere  remarked,
that it has been followed by a greater number of eminent men than any other trade.  By the side of his
work-bench he kept ink and paper, that he might write
down the interesiing thoughts, which he traced out,
or which rushed on him  amidst his humble labors.  I
take pleasure in stating this part of his history.  The
prejudice against manual labor, as inconsistent with personal dignity, is one of the most irrational and perni



TIlE PHILANTHROPIST.            397
cious, especially in a free country. It shows how little
we comprehend the spirit of our institutions, and how
deeply we are tainted with the narrow maxims of the
old aristocracies of Europe. f Here was a man uniting
great intellectual improvement with refinement of manners, who had been trained under unusual severity of
toil.  This country has lost much physical and moral
strength, and its prosperity is at this moment depressed,
by the common propensity to forsake the plough for less
manly pursuits, which are thought however to promise
greater dignity as well as ease.
His first book was a series of letters to a Baptist
minister, and in this he gave promise of the direction
which the efforts of his life were to assume.  The
great object of these letters was, not to settle the controversies about baptism, about the mode of administering it, whether by immersion or sprinkling, or about.the:proper subjects of it, whether chlildren or adults
alone.  His- aim was to show that these were inferior
questions! that differences abotit these ought not to:divide Christians, that the "close communion," as it is
called, of the Baptists, was inconsistent with the liberal
spirit of Christianity, and that this obstruction to Christian unity ought to be removed.
His next publication was what brought him into notice, and gave him an important place in our theological
history.  It was a publication on the Trinity; and what
is worthy of remark, it preceded the animated controversy on that point, which a few years after agitated this
city and commonwealth.  The mind of Dr. Worcester
was turned to this topic not by foreign impulses, but by
its own workings.  He had been brought up in the
strictest sect, that is, as a Calvinist. HI:is first doubts
VOL. IV.              34




398             THE PHILANTHROPIST.
as to the Trinity arose from the confusion, the perplex.
ity, into which his mind was thrown by this doctrine in
his acts of devotion.  To worship three persons as one
and the same God, as one and the same being, seemed
to him difficult, if not impossible. He accordingly resolved to read and examine the Scriptures from beginning to end, for the purpose of ascertaining the true
doctrine respecting God, and the true rank of Jesus
Christ.  The views at which he arrived were so different from what prevailed around him, and some of them
so peculiar, that he communicated them to the public
under the rather quaint title of " Bible News relating to
the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."  His great aim
was to prove, that the Supreme God was one person,
even the Father, and that Jesus Christ was not the Supreme God, but his Son in a strict and peculiar sense.
This idea of " the peculiar and natural sonship" of
Christ, by which he meant that Jesus was derived from
the very substance of the Father, had taken a strong
hold on his mind, and he insisted on it with as much
confidence as was consistent with his deep sense of fallibility. But, as might be expected in so wise and spiritual a man, it faded more and more from his mind, in
proportion as he became acquainted with, and assimilated to, the true glory of his Master.  In one of his
unpublished manuscripts, he gives an account of his
change of view in this particular, and, without disclaiming expressly the doctrine which had formerly seemed
so precious, he informs us that it had lost its importance
in his sight.  The moral, spiritual dignity of Christ,
had risen on his mind in such splendor, as to dim his
old idea of "natural sonship."' In one place he affirms, c" I do not recollect an instance [in the Scrip



THE PHILANTHROPIST.             399
tures] in which Christ is spoken of as loved, honored,
or praised, on any other ground than his 1M[oral dignity."
This moral greatness he declares to be the highest with
which Jesus was clothed, and expresses his conviction,
"' that the controversies of Christians about his natural
dignity, had tended very little to the honor of their
Master, or to their own advantage."  The manuscript
to which I refer, was written after his seventieth year,
and is very illustrative of his character.  It shows that
his love of truth was stronger than the tenacity with
which age commonly clings to old ideas.  It shows him
superior to the theory, which more than any other he
had considered his own, and which had been the fruit
of very laborious study.  It shows how strongly he felt
that progress was the law and end of his being, and how
he continued to make progress to the last hour.  The
work called "' Bible News," drew much attention, and
converted not a few to the doctrine of the proper unity
of God. Its calm, benignant spirit had no small influence in disarming prejudice and unkindness.  He
found, however, that his defection from his original faith
had exposed him to much suspicion and reproach; and
he became at length so painfully impressed with the intolerance which his work had excited, that he published
another shorter work, called " Letters to Trinitarians,"
a work breathing the very spirit of Jesus, and intended
to teach, that diversities of opinion, on subjects the
most mysterious and perplexing, ought not to sever
fiiends, to dissolve the Christian tie, to divide the
church, to fasten on the dissenter from  the common
faith the charge of heresy, to array the disciples of the
Prince of Peace in hostile bands.  These works obtained such favor, that he was solicited to leave the ob



400              THE- PHILANTIHOPIST.
scure town in which he ministered, and to take charge,
in this place, of a periodical called at first the Christian
Disciple, and now better known as the Christian Examiner.  At that time (about twenty-five years ago) I
first saw him.  Long and severe toil, and a most painful disease, had left their traces on his once athletic
frame; but his countenance beamed with a benignity
which at once attracted confidence and affection.  For
several years he consulted me habitually in the conduct
of the work which he edited. I recollect with admiration the gentleness, humility, and sweetness of temper,
with which he endured freedoms, corrections, retrenchments, some of which I feel now to have been unwarranted, and which no other man would so kindly have
borne.   This work was commenced very much for
doctrinal discussions, but his spirit could not brook such
limitations, and he used its pages more and more for the
dissemination of his principles of philanthropy and peace.
At length he gave these principles to the world, in a
form which did much to decide his future career.  He
published a pamphlet, called " A Solemn Review of
the Custom of WVar."  It bore no name, and appeared
without recommendation, but it immediately seized on
attention.  It was read by multitudes in this country,
then published in England, and translated, as I have
heard, into several languages of Europe.  Such was
the impression made by. this work, that a new association, called the Peace Society of Massachusetts, was
instituted in this place.  I well recollect the day of its
formation in yonder house, then the parsonage of this
parish; and if there was a happy man that day on earth,
it was the founder of this institution.  This society gave
birth to all the kindred ones in this country, and its




THE PHILANTHROPIST.            401
influence was felt abroad. Dr. Worcester assumed the
charge of its periodical, and devoted himself for years
to this cause, with unabating faith and zeal; and it may
be doubted, whether any man who ever lived, contributed more than he to spread just sentiments on the subject
of war, and to hasten the era of universal peace.  He
began his efforts in the darkest day, when the whole
civilized world was shaken by conflict, and threatened
with military despotism.   He lived to see more than
twenty years of general peace, and to see through these
years a multiplication of national ties, an extension of
commercial communications, an establishment of new
connexions between Christians and learned men through
the world, and a growing reciprocity of friendly and
beneficent influence among different States, all giving
aid to the principles of peace, and encouraging hopes
which a century ago would have been deemed insane.
The abolition of war, to which this good man devoted
himself, is no longer to be set down as a creation of
fancy, a dream of enthusiastic philanthropy. War rests
on opinion; and opinion is more and more withdrawing
its support.  War rests on contempt of human nature;
on the long, mournful habit of regarding the mass of human beings as machines, or as animals having no higher
use than to be shot at and murdered for the glory of a
chief, for the seating of this or that family on a throne,
for the petty interests or selfish rivalries which have inflamed States to conflict. Let the worth of a human
being be felt; let the mass of a people be elevated; let
it be understood that a man was made to enjoy inalienable
rights, to improve lofty powers, to secure a vast happiness; and a main pillar of war will fall.  And is it not
plain that these views are taking place of the contempt
34 *




402              THE PtHILANTHROPIST.
in which man has so long been held?  War finds another support in the prejudices and partialities of a narrow
patriotism.  Let the great Christian principle of human
brotherhood be comprehended, let the Christian spirit of
universal love gain ground, and just so fast the custom of
war, so long the pride of men, will become their abhorrence and execration.  It is encouraging to see how outward events are concurring with the influences of Christianity in promoting peace; how an exclusive nationality
is yielding to growing intercourse; how different nations,
by mutual visits, by the interchange of thoughts and products, by studying one another's language and literature,
by union of efforts in the cause of religion and humanity,
are growing up to the consciousness of belonging to one
great family. Every railroad, connecting distant regions,
may be regarded as accomplishing a ministry of peace.
Every year which passes without war, by interweaving
more various ties of interest and friendship, is a pledge
of coming years of peace. The prophetic faith with
which Dr. Worcester, in the midst of universal war,
looked forward to a happier era, and which was smiled
at as enthusiasm, or credulity, has already received a
sanction beyond his fondest hopes, by the wonderful
progress of human affairs.
On the subject of war, Dr. Worcester adopted opinions which are thought by some to be extreme.  He interpreted literally the precept, Resist not evil; and he
believed that nations, as well as individuals, would find
safety, as well as "fulfil righteousness," in yielding it
literal obedience.  One of- the most striking traits of his
character, was his confidence in the power of love, I
might say, in its omnipotence.  He believed, that the
surest way to subdue a foe was to become his friend;




rSHE PHILANTIIROPIST.           403
that a true benevolence was a surer defence than swords,
or artillery, or walls of adamant.  He believed, that no
mightier man ever: trod the soil of America than Wile
lialn Penn, when entering the wilderness unarmed, and
stretching out to the savage a hand which refused all
earthly weapons, in token of brotherhood and peace.
There was something grand in the calm confidence with
which he expressed his conviction of the superiority of
moral to physical force.  Armies, fiery passions, quick
resentments, and  the spirit of vengeance, miscalled
honor, seemed to him  weak, low instruments, inviting,
and often hastening, the ruin which they are used to
avert.  Many will think him in error; bhut if so, it was
a grand thought which led him astray.
At the age of seventy, he felt as if he had discharged
his mission as a preacher of peace, and resigned his office as Secretary to the Society, to which he had given
the strength of many years.  He did not, however, retire to unfruitful repose.  Bodily infirmity had increased,
so that he was very much confined to his house; but he
returned with zeal to the studies of his early life, and
produced two theological works, one on the Atonement,
the other on Humean Depravity, or the moral state of man
by nature, which I regard as among the most useful
books on these long-agitated subjects.  These writings,
particularly the last, have failed of the popularity which
they merit, in consequence of a defect of style, which
may be traced to his defective education, and which naturally increased with years.  I refer to his diffuseness,
to his inability to condense his thoughts.  His writings,
however, are not wanting in merits of style.  They are
simple and clear.  They abound to a remarkable degree
in ingenious illustration, and they have often the charm




404              WTIM, PtII.AIN'T1'tROPiB5T.
which original thinking always gives to composition   He
was truly an original writer, not in the sense of making
great discoveries, but in the sense of writing from his
own mind, and not from  books or tradition.  What he
wrote had perhaps been written before; but in consequence of his limited reading, it was new to himself, and
came to him with the freshness of discovery.  Somen.
times great thoughts flashed on his mind as if they had
been inspirations; and in writing his last book, he seems
to have felt as if some extraordinary light had been imparted from above.  After his seventy-fifth year he ceased to write books, but his mind lost nothing of its activity.  He was so enfeebled by a distressing disease, that
he could converse but for a few moments at a time; yet
he entered into all the great movements of the age, with
an interest distinguished from the fervor of youth only
by its mildness and its serene trust.  The attempts made
in some of our cities, to propagate atheistical principles,
gave him much concern; and he applied himself to fresh
inquiries into the proofs of the existence and perfections
of God, hoping to turn his labors to the account of his
erring fellow-creatures.  With this view, he entered on
the study of nature as a glorious testimony to its almighty Author.  I shall never forget the delight which
illumined his countenance a short time ago, as he told
me that he had just been reading the history of the coral,
the insect which raises islands in the sea.  C" How wonderfully," he exclaimed, "is God's providence revealed
in these little creatures!"   The last subject to which
he devoted his thoughts, was slavery.  His mild spirit
could never reconcile itself to the methods in which
this evil is often assailed; but the greatness of the evil
ha deeply felt, and he left several essays on this as on




THE PHILANTHROPIST.              405
the preceding subject, which, if they shall be found unfit
for publication, will still bear witness to the intense, unfaltering interest Fwith which he bound himself to the
cause of mankind.
I have thus given a sketch of the history of a good
man, who lived and died the lover of his kind, and the
admiration of his friends.  Two views of him  particularly impressed me.  The first, was the unity, the harmony of his character.!He had no jarring elements.
His whole nature had been blended and melted into one
strong, serene love.  His mission was to preach peace,
and he preached it not on set occasions, or by separate
efforts, but in his whole life.  It breathed in his tones.
It beamned from his venerable countenance.  He carried
it, where it is least apt to be found, into the religious
controversies which raged around him with great vehemence, but which never excited him to a word of anger
or intolerance.  All my impressions of him are harmonious.  I recollect no discord in his beautiful life.  And
this serenity was not the result of torpidness or tameness; for his whole life was a conflict with what he
thought error.   He made no compromise with the
world, and yet he loved it as deeply and constantly
as if it had responded, in shouts to all his views and
feelings.
The next great impression which I received from
him, was that of the sufficiency of the mind to its own
happiness, or of its independence on outward things.
Hie was for years debilitated, and often a great sufierer;
and his circumstances were very narrow, compelling him
to so strict an economy, that he was sometimes represented, though falsely, as wanting the common comforts
of life. In this tried and narrow condition, he was




406              THE PHILANTHRUIUlo.
among the most contented of men.  He spoke of his
old age as among the happiest portions, if not the very
happiest, in his life.  In conversation his religion manifested itself in gratitude more frequently than in any
other form.  When I have visited him in his last years,
and looked on his serene countenance, and heard his
cheerful voice, and seen the youthful earnestness with
which he was reading a variety of books, and studying
the great interests of humanity, I have felt how'ittle of
this outward world is needed to our happiness.  I have
felt the greatness of the human spirit, which could create
to itself such joy from'ts own resources.  I have felt
the folly, the insanity of that prevailing worldliness,
which, in accumulating outward good, neglects the imperishable soul.  On leaving his house and turning my
face toward this city, I have said to myself, how much
richer is this poor man than the richest who dwell yonder! I have been ashamed of my own dependence on
outward good.  I am always happy to express my obligations to the benefactors of my mind; and I owe it to
Dr. Worcester to say, that my acquaintance with him
gave me clearer comprehension of the spirit of Christ,
and of the dignity of a man.
And he has gone to his reward.  He has gone to that
world of which he carried in his own breast so rich an
earnest and pledge, to a world of Peace.  He has gone
to Jesus Christ, whose spirit he so deeply comprehended
and so freely imbibed; and to God, whose universal,
all-suffering, all-embracing love he adored, and in a humble measure made manifest in his own life.  But he is
not wholly gone; not gone in heart, for I am sure that a
better world has heightened, not extinguished, his affection for his race; and not gone in influence, for hiU




THE PHIIANTItItOPIST.            4-07
thoughts remain in his works, and his memory is laid up
as a sacred treasure in many minds. A spirit so beautiful ought to multiply itself in those to whom  it is made
known. Mlay we all be incited by it to a more grateful,
cheerful love of God, and a serener, gentler, nobler love
of our fellow-creatures.
END OF VOL, IWV