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TRACTS 



AMEKICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



^neral Serus. 




VOL. XII 



PRINTED BY THE 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 

.160 NASSAU. STREET, NEW YORK. 



CONTENTS. 



VOL. XII. 

No. Pages. 

474. We must Live, 16 

475. The Ox Sermon, 8 

476. The Missionary Legacy, ....... 4 

477. Napoleon's Argument for the Divinity of Christ, . . 8 

478. Don't be Offended, 4 

479. Training Children for the Conversion of the World, . 24 

480. Prayer for Colleges, 8 

48L Why are you not a Christian? ..... 4 

482. The Hiding-place, 4 

483. Why yet Impenitent ? 4 

484. The Infidel Restored, 4 

485. Divine Counsel. From the book of Proverbs, . . 4 

486. The Navy Surgeon, or the Conversion of Dr. Charles H. 

Broughton, U. S. Navy, 24 

487. Col. David Mack, the faithful Steward, . . . ■ '. 20 

488. Divine Grace Illustrated, .4 

489. Three Words, 4 

490. Procrastination, 4 

491. Dancing as a Social Amusement, 16 

492. Poor William, 4 

493. Beware of Bad Books, 4 

494. The Spirit of Christ, ExempUfied in Labors for the Conver- 

sion of the World, 20 

495. The Horrors of Remorse, ....... 4 

496. Why will you Die ? 4 

497. Cars Ready ! 4 

498. The Aurora Borealis, 4 

499. The Haymow, 4 

500. " The Door was Shut," or the Crisis of the Immortal Soul, 24 



4 CONTENTS. 

No. Pages. 

501. The Infidel's Confession. A Narrative, .... 4 

502. Appeal in behalf of the Christian Sabbath. By S. S. 

Schmucker, D. D., l6 

503. True Conversion ; a Dialogue from Pilgrim's Progress. . 8 

504. Christ in his Members, .- . 4 

505. Will you be Saved? 4 

506. The Gospel for the Poor. By Rev. John M. Mason, D.' D., 24 

507. The Missing Disciple, ....... 4 

508. George Taylor. An authentic Narrative, .... 4 

509. The Lost Son, 4 

510. Mrs. Venn. By Rev. Henry Venn, 16 

511. The Brazen Serpent. By Rev. Edward D. Griffin, D. D, 8 

512. Murderers of Fathers and Murderers of Mothers. By Rev. 

Edward Hitchcock, D. D., 16 

513. Christ Precious to all True Believers. By President Davies, 20 

514. Pardon for the Greatest Sinners. By President Edwards,. 12 

515. Novel-Reading, 4 

516. Messiah's Throne. By Rev. John M. Mason, D. D., . 20 

517. The Substance of the Gospel. By Rev. Ralph Wardlaw, D. D., 4 

518. Salvation to the Uttermost, 16 

519. The Church in the House. By Rev. James Hamilton, Na- 

tional Scotch Church, London, 20 

520. The Hope of the Righteous. By President Davies, . 20 

521. Christ a Covert from the Tempest. By Rev. Dr. Griffin, . 8 

522. Mary of Toulouse, . . . . . . . 28 



]¥o. 474. 



( i 



WE MUST LIVE." 




A LADY who was engaged as a Sabbath-school teacher 
had reason to suspect that her scholars often bought sweet- 
meats on the Lord's day. On inquiry, she ascertained this 
to be the fact ; and having found out the shop at which the 
little girls supplied themselves, she called on the woman 
who kept it, and spoke seriously to her on the impropriety 
of her conduct ; observing to her, that she not only broke the 
commandment of God by following her business on the Lord's 
day, and deprived herself of the privilege of attending the 
VOL. xii. l"^- 



2 "WE MUST LIVE." 

house of prayer, and listening to the blessed Gospel, but that 
she was guilty of tempting many others to do wrong — in 
particular, those Sabbath-school girls to whom her open shop 
presented an occasion of sin, and led them to slight the in- 
structions they received. 

The woman seemed to feel what was said to her, and 
promised she would speak to her husband, and try if they 
could not shut up shop and attend public worship on the 
morning of the Lord's day ; at the same time observing, that 
they were not Sabbath-breakers so bad as many ; for there 
were many shops kept open all day, but she always made a 
point of " keeping her church" in the afternoon. 

"As to that," replied the lady, "the conduct of others is 
not our rule ; nor will it justify us to compare our conduct 
with theirs. What is wrong in itself is forbidden to us ; and 
if we do it in ever so small a degree, we must answer for it. 
If a man were taken up and tried for stealing a few shil- 
lings, the judge would not let him off because there was 
another man who had stolen a hundred pounds. And if a 
man had committed murder, it would be no excuse for him 
to say, that he had only killed one person, while there was 
another who had killed two or three." 

The woman admitted the truth of this reasoning, and 
again said she would try what could be done. 

" I am quite sure," replied the lady, "that if you try in 
sincerity, and beg of God to give you grace to stand firm 
against what is sinful, it is very possible for you to succeed. 
There are many hard-working people to whom a shilling is 
quite as much as it is to you, who yet live without breaking 
the Sabbath, because they know it would be sinful ; and 
what is possible to them is possible to you. No person is 
obliged by circumstances to sin against God." 

On taking leave, the lady gave her Tracts on the impor- 
tance of keeping holy the Sabbath-day, and begged her to 
read them with serious consideration, to forsake every sinful 
way, and turn to the Saviour of sinners ; reminding her that 



"WE MUST LIVE." 3 

Sabbaths, and seasons of grace, and offers of mercy, would 
soon cease for ever. 

The next Lord's day, as the lady was returning from the 
Sabbath-school, she observed, to her great sorrow, the shop 
open, and the sticks of peppermint, and the glasses of candy, 
and trays of gingerbread set forth in as tempting display as 
ever ; and two of her own little scholars were indulging 
themselves with a look, though they assured her they had 
no intention of buying. She told them that it was wrong 
to go in the way of evil ; and that even to look upon and 
wish for things that it is not right for us to have, is commit- 
ting sin in our hearts. She desired them to look at the 3d 
chapter of Genesis and the 6th verse, and the 7th chapter 
of Joshua and the 20th and 21st verses, and there see what 
sad mischief came from looking on forbidden things ; and 
she promised in the afternoon to talk over with them these 
portions of Scripture. Then bidding them hasten home, she 
opened the shop-door, and at the sound of the little bell forth 
came the mistress of the shop, expecting to meet a customer. 
The woman's countenance expressed shame — that of her 
visitor, sorrow. 

" I am truly grieved, Mrs. C , to find your shop still 

open. I had hoped, from our conversation the other day, 
that you would have made up your mind to remembe? the 
Sabbath-day to keep it holy." 

" Why, yes, ma'am, I did mean to do so. I am really 
very sorry to keep open shop ; but you know we mt;st live — 
and we take more on Sundays than on any other day in the 
week." 

" But we are told in the Bible, that ' the blessing of the 
Lord maketh rich,' Prov. 10 : 22 ; and we cannot expect his 
blessing, if we act in disobedience to his law. On the other 
hand, those who have trusted God, and acted in obedience 
to his will, and in so doing have seemed to sacrifice their 
present interests, have not only enjoyed peace of mind and 
spiritual profit, but have even found in keeping God's com- 



4 "WE MUST LIVE." 

mandments a present temporal reward. He has the hearts 
of all men in his hands, and he has often so ordered it, that 
when people have begun conscientiously to do what is right, 
instead of being losers by it, they have from that very time 
prospered more than ever. I have heard and known of 
many such instances." 

" Yes, ma'am, I don't doubt it. I am quite sure that 
those who keep the Sabbath are much happier ; and I do 
hope that when we get on a little, we shall be able to do so 
too ; it is quite my wish to do so." 

" But suppose you should not live to get on a little, or to 
get so much as you would think necessary to justify you in 
shutting up your shop on the Sabbath ?" 

"It is to be hoped we shall, ma'am ; we are but young 
beginners, as one may say." 

" The more reason that you should be careful to begin in 
the right way. Besides, if I mistake not, you are now in 
mourning for a sister younger than yourself." 

" Yes, ma'am, I lost a brother and a sister near together. 
My sister was not married ; but my poor brother left a wid- 
ow and three small children." 

"And suppose you should be called away by death, would 
it not be a poor plea to give at the bar of God, that you in- 
tended to obey his laws when you had got on a little more 
in the world ; and a poor consolation for yourself, when 
your soul was ruined, to say that you neglected it because 
you had other things to attend to first ? Jesus Christ has 
commanded us to ' seek first the kingdom of Grod and his 
righteousness ;' and to expect that all other needful things 
shall be added thereunto." Matt. 6 : 33. 

The woman's husband then came from an adjoining 
room, and joined the conversation, saying, " I wish, with all 
my heart, there was a ten-pound penalty for keeping open 
shop on Sundays. I should be glad enough to shut up ours, 
if every body else was obliged to do the same." 

" My friend," replied the visitor, "will you allow me to 



"WE MUST LIVE." 5 

say, that that very wish proves you to be under the infl uence 
of two great and ruinous mistakes. In the first place, you 
seem to think there are no penalties but those inflicted ac- 
cording to human laws and by earthly magistrates, and for- 
get that God has enacted penalties for breaking his laws, 
infinitely more dreadful than the severest which human 
judges can inflict. ' The wages of sin is death.' 'The soul 
that sinneth, it shall die.' ' Fear him who is able to destroy 
both soul and body in hell.' Eom. 6 : 23 ; Ezek. 18:4; 
Matt. 10 : 28. How is it that the loss of a trifling sum of 
money, or a few days' imprisonment, or a little disgrace 
among our fellow-men, should be thought so much of, while 
the threatenings of God are set at naught ?" 

" Why, you know God is very merciful." 

" Indeed he is, my friend ; and because he is so, you and 
I are not consumed, but are yet living, and within the sound 
of the blessed Gospel, and where the Son of man has power 
to forgive sin. Mark 2 : 10. But do not let us abuse this 
great and glorious truth, as if God were too merciful to do 
as he has said, and punish the sinner who rejects and makes 
light of the only way of mercy. The mercy of God has 
provided a Saviour — a gracious and an all-sufficient Saviour ; 
and mercy through him is freely offered to sinners ; but if 
one goes his way to his farm, and another to his mercJian- 
dise, and refuses to come when Jesus calls, what can be 
expected but that they should be for ever shut out from the 
blessings they despise ? Your mistake, my friend, evidently 
arises from want of faith, from not believing that the God 
of truth really means what he says, and that the things 
which are not seen are as real as the things which are seen, 
and infinitely more important. The promises of God to 
those who obey and trust him, are far more certain and val- 
uable than any thing that our fellow-creatures can confer 
upon us, or than any thing that this world can afford ; and 
the threatenings of God are as sure as his promises, and far 
more terrible than all the sufferings and punishments that 



6 "WE MUST LIVE." 

earthly magistrates can inflict. Now, if you really believe 
this, surely it is reason enough for you to leave off what you 
acknowledge to be sinning against God." 

" Why, very true ; but what is to be done ? You know 
WE MUST LIVE. But, as I Said before, if other people would 
shut up their shops, I should be willing and glad to- shut up 
mine." 

" This is the other mistake to which I referred. You 
seem to think that you should be willing to obey God, if it 
did not at all interfere with your worldly interests — if you 
were quite sure that you should lose nothing by it. Now, 
I can easily think it must be very trying for a conscientious 
shopkeeper to shut up his shop, and see his neighbors open 
theirs, and customers flock to them ; or for a workman to 
lay aside his work and know that others pursue theirs, and 
make seven days' profit while he makes only six. But all 
our transactions with God must be carried on in the way of 
faith and obedience, and these very things are trials whether 
or not we do love, and believe, and serve him. We must 
expect sacrifices in the way of duty ; for our Lord has said, 
that whosoever will not deny himself, and take up his cross 
daily, and follow him, cannot be his disciple. Luke 9 : 23. 
You say that you muit live ; but what does Jesus Christ 
say ? ' Whosoever will save his life, shall lose it ; and who- 
soever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it. For what 
is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose 
his own soul ; or what shall a man give in exchange for his 
soul V " Matt. 16 : 25, 26 ; Luke 14 : 26, 27. 

.-Tp|. Another case may be mentioned. 

John H was the son of a hairdresser, and assisted 

his father in the business. After living to the age of two 
or three-and-twenty in carelessness and irreligion — spending 
the early part of the Sabbath in pursuing his worldly call- 
ing, and the afternoon and evening of the day in gay com- 
pany and sinful pleasures — he was brought under the sound 



"WE MUST LIVE." 7 

of the Gospel. The word came with power to his heart. 
Under the Holy Spirit's teaching, he was led to see himself 
a sinner. He was directed to the only way of salvation, 
through the blood and righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and he became a new man. He now perceived that the 
things he had long pursued were trifling, worthless, and 
mischievous ; and that he had neglected the " one thing 
needful." The things that were gain to him, he now count- 
ed loss for Christ. The world was crucified to him, and he 
to the world ; and his chief concern was to " win Christ, 
and be found in him, not having his own righteousness, 
which is of the law," and which he knew could never jus- 
tify him ; yet desiring to walk in all the commandments and 
ordinances of the Lord blameless ; to show forth the praises 
of Him who had called him out of darkness into marvellous 
light ; and to " walk worthy of the Lord, unto all pleasing." 
2 Cor. 5:17; Luke 10:42; Phil. 3:7-10; Gal. 6:14; 
Luke 1 :6; 1 Pet. 2:9; Col. 1 : 10. 

This change of character in the young man was by no 
means pleasing to his ungodly parents. "When they found 
that, instead of spending the Sabbath evening as he had 
been used to do, at a tea-garden or some place of amusement, 
he was either reading his Bible, or listening to the preaching 
of the Gospel, or holding converse with such as feared .the 
Lord, Mai. 3:16, they mocked and jeered him, and said he 
was beside himself; but yet indulged a hope that he would 
soon lay aside these new fancies, as they called them, and 
return to his old practices. It seemed to tell well for this 
young man's sincerity, that he was struck with the sin of 
spending what he had been used to reckon his own time in 
sinful iileasure, before he thought of the sin of working on 
the Sabbath morning for his father's profit. However, it 
was not long before he was convinced of this also ; and, as 
new desires were awakened in his mind, as he thirsted to 
know more of Jesus, and learned to esteem the Sabbath " a 
delight, holy of the Lord, and honorable," he desired to de- 



8 " WE MUST LIVE." 

vote the whole of it to the holy purposes for which it was 
set apart. This wish he respectfully intimated to his father ; 
and entreated that he might be excused from attending in 
the shop, or going out to dress hair, on the Lord's day 
morning. 

At this his father was enraged beyond measure, and 
threatened to turn him out of doors if he heard any more of 
his puritanical nonsense. " We must live," said the father ; 
" other people in our line wait on their customers on a Sun- 
day, and you very well know that we take more money on 
that day than on any other day in the week. We might as 
well shut up shop altogether as shut it up on a Sunday. 
Would you have a good business thrown away for your 
whims ; a business which is likely, sooner or later, to be 
your own ; and a business on which your poor mother and all 
these helpless children" — John was the eldest of a numer- 
ous family — " depend for support ? If your religion teaches 
you to disobey your parents and expose your family to in- 
jury, it is not worth much." 

These arguments distressed and for a time silenced the 
young man, though he felt conscious that he loved his family 
far more than he had ever done before, and would cheerfully 
have worked for them night and day. But though he could 
not at once show the hollowness of his father's reasonings, 
he was not convinced by them, and he was miserable when 
he went into the shop in obedience to his father, for he felt 
that he was acting in disobedience to God. In a short time, 
however, it pleased God farther to enlighten his mind, and 
to give more consistency to his views, and more decision to 
his purposes ; and he was then enabled to see that he 
" ought to obey God rather than men," Acts 5 : 29, and 
that not even the wishes of his father or mother, any more 
than personal interests and inclinations, must be allowed to 
stand in the way of obedience to Christ. Luke 14 : 26, 27. 

Having in vain attempted to eflect such an arrangement 
with his father as would allow him to carry out his convic- 



"WE MUST LIVE.' 9 

tions, J. H. declared he must leave his father's roof and 
seek employment elsewhere. He w^ent, and passed through 
many trials and privations in consequence of his conscien- 
tious determination, and of his father's unkindness and bit- 
terness against him ; for he declared that his son should 
never again enter his doors. 

Meanwhile his place in his father's shop was filled by a 
dashing young man, quite free from any conscientious scru- 
ples about pursuing either business or pleasure on the Lord's 
day ; and for a time matters went on swimmingly. But not 
many months had elapsed before it appeared that the young 
man was too fond of pleasure, that he made no scruple of 
wasting his master's time on the week-days and neglecting 
his business. Some of the best customers became displeased, 
and called loudly for the return of the steady young man 
who had waited on them so satisfactorily. The master, who 
still continued inexorable towards his son, waived the inti- 
mations of his customers, reprimanded his assistant, and paid 
more than ordinary attention to the business himself But 
it could not escape observation, that his assistant spent more 
money on dress and pleasure-taking than his regular earn- 
ings could at all justify ; and there was reason to suspect 
that the till and show-glasses w^ere taxed to supply the 
deficiency. 

At length some instances of neglect and impertinence in 
the young man so offended one principal and influential cus- 
tomer, that he called on the master to say he would be no 
longer waited on by his assistant, and desired, in plain terms, 
to know why he was deprived of the services of his former 
attendant. " Why, sir, to say the truth," repUed the hair- 
dresser, not doubting that his customer would fully concur 
in his decision, " it was impossible to keep John at home 
any longer. He became righteous overmuch, and would 
not work on Sundays ; and you know, sir, it would not do 
for us to disappoint gentlemen on a Sunday more than any 
other day. We must live ; and we must mind our business, 

VOL. XII. 2 



IQ • ^VE MUST LIVE.- 

or it will not mind us." " But," replied the gentleman, " if 
the appointment were altered there would be no disappoint- 
ment. Though I am not so particular myself as I ought to 
be, I do not blame the young man if he is scrupulous. As 
far as I am concerned, if he comes back, I shall be wiUing 
to accommodate ; and, most likely, others would do the 
same. But, Mr. H., I must say, if you continue to employ 
this upstart, I must seek elsewhere for some one to serve 
me." The hint was sufficiently intelligible and emphatic. 
The assistant was forthwith dismissed, and John returned 
home, with an express engagement that no Sunday work 
should be required of him. 

John's religion taught him to be conscientiously diligent 
and obliging where no sacrifice of principle was involved, as 
well as conscientiously firm where it was. His consistency 
gained him respect and good-will, and softened prejudice. 
Difficulties are much more easily surmounted when they are 
opposed in earnest, than when they are merely speculated 
upon ; and at no very distant period from John's return, the 
shop was entirely closed on the Sabbath, and the whole fam- 
ily were seen flocking to the long-neglected courts of the 
Lord's house. 

But it is not Sabbath-breakers only who fancy they are 
obliged to do what God has forbidden, or that which tends 
to evil. There was a farmer who labored hard to support 
a numerous family by cultivating a few acres of land, and 
did support them in comfort and respectability, all the labor 
of the farm being performed by himself, with the assistance 
of his elder boys. He had a notable wife, too, and a tidy, 
industrious daughter, who managed between them all the 
in-door operations ; while a group of little ones might be 
seen playing around the cottage. The family and the 
dwelling always appeared clean and decent, and the children 
were remarked for civility and good behavior, and espe- 
cially for constant and punctual attendance at the Sabbath- 



•WE MLiSr LIVE/- 11 

school. Still, there is no doubt that they found enough to 
do to get along, with so large a family to maintain and a 
heavy rent to pay. 

In an evil hour it was suggested to them that it might 
answer their purpose to open a beer-shop. "It is not ex- 
actly what we should have chosen," said they, " but wte 
MUST LIVE ; and it may be as well to turn an honest penny 
that way as any other. It is very different from selling beer 
to be drunk on the premises ; that we would not do on any 
account. No — it would spoil the comfort of the family to 
have people sitting in the house to smoke and drink ; and it 
would be very injurious to the children. "We certainly should 
not think of doing that." 

After a few months' trial it was found that they did not 
make enough to give them a living. By and by they be- 
came less scrupulous, and determined to " open the house," 
as they called it ; that is, to obtain a license for selling beer 
to be drunk on the premises. Both the parents declared 
themselves very reluctant to take the step ; but they recon- 
ciled themselves to it by saying. We iviust live ; and by de- 
claring their fixed intention that their children, especially 
the eldest girl, now sixteen or seventeen years of age, should 
never be permitted to wait upon company, or even to come 
into the room used for their reception. This was three y^ars 
ago ; and how is it now ? As some of the customers chose 
to have spirits, it was found necessary to have a spirit license, 
"for," said they, "we must live ; and in order to do this, 
we must please our customers." Some customers chose to 
sit late at night, and to sing vulgar songs ; and the father of 
t]je family is often diverted from his regular employ to keep 
company vnih. his guests ; and the mother, when busy and 
harassed, often calls her daughter to assist her in waiting 
upon them ; and the girl had much rather be going in and 
out with beer, and catching a part of the song or the con- 
versation, than doing house- work. Now, too, the Sabbath 
is abused ; for if they intend to live by the house, as they 



X2 "WE MUST LIVE." 

sometimes observe, they cannot shut the doors on Sunday 
against those who enter them every other day of the week. 
The Sabbath-school is altogether deserted, and public wor- 
ship nearly so. The boys have learned rude and profane 
expressions ; they have cast off their former civility, and 
have been known to rob the gardens which formerly they 
protected. The daughter has become giddy, pert, and bold 
in her manners. The whole family has, in every particular, 
sunk lower in respectability and comfort with every step 
taken at the suggestion of worldly policy, and at variance 
with better judgment and feelings, and which required the 
vague apology — " We must live." 

Nor is this specious but hollow plea confined to the 
humbler classes of society. There are many individuals of 
ample resources or high standing in the world, and some 
even in the Christian Church, who adopt it. What says 
the merchant, when remonstrated with on the certain and 
well-known effects of his merchandise in spreading vice and 
misery through the community ? "I am sorry for it. I do 
not wish a bad use to be made of what I sell ; but people 
will have it ; and if I do not make money by it, somebody 
else will ; and I and my family must liveT 

Has not a religious bookseller been heard, with perfect 
complacency, to say of certain infidel, profane, or licentious 
publications which he keeps for sale, " What an immense 
run they have had ; how many I have sold." And he, too, 
if reminded of their corrupting tendency, regrets that the 
public taste is not rectified. He would much rather sell as 
many books of an instructive and pious tendency, and derive 
as good a profit from them ; but what he does in the way of 
trade is not exactly a matter of choice, he " must live.'' 

A landloi'd knowingly lets his premises for the purpose 
of carrying on some pursuit either absolutely criminal in 
itself, or confessedly and extensively injurious in its effects ; 
but what is he to do ? A good rent is ofiered, and the re- 



•WE ML ST LIVE.- 13 

monstrances of conscience are silenced with, " We must 
.turn our property to good account ; we must lrte." 

In a word, lucrative employment, however morally ob- 
jectionable, is sought, and " tricks of tradej' as they are 
called, however questionable, are adopted and justified by 
the plea, " AYe imtst live." 

It is readily admitted, that Christians ought to exercise 
charity and candor towards one another, and judge not, that 
they be not judged. It would not be easy or right for one 
to prescribe the exact line of conduct that another ought to 
pursue, in matters that are at all questionable ; but those 
who sincerely desire to approve themselves to God, who trieth 
the heart, will impartially examine themselves whether they 
really do what duty requires, and to the fullest extent that 
circumstances will admit. 

A chemist mid druggist lately remarked to the writer, 
'* There was a time when I used to court business on the 
Lord's day ; and sheltering myself under the alleged neces- 
sity of being at hand to supply medicine in case of iUness, 
I employed myself in preparing a quantity of tinctures, 
weighing packets of soda-water powders, and many such 
things, noj; because they were needed, but really for the sake 
of saving time on other days. At that time I took more 
money on the Sabbath than on any other day, not a peimy 
in a shilling of which was for matters of real necessity. 
When I began to see it my duty to refuse to sell, on the 
Sabbath, perfumery, cigars, and other matters of mere 
luxury and fancy, I offended a few of my customers, and 
expected to find that I had seriously injured my business ; 
but in a little time people fell into my arrangements, and 
left off coming for such things. I now enjoy my Sab- 
baths undisturbed, except in cases of real need, to which, 
of course, I readily attend. Every customer whom I 
would wish to return, has come back to me ; and, taking 
into account the saving of Sunday expenses, which almost 
invariably countervail Sunday gains, I can say, with hum- 

VOL. XII. 2* 



14 "WE MUST LIVE." 

ble thankfulness, that my prosperity is now greater than 
ever." 

This example is worthy the notice of those whose calling 
seems; in any .way, to require them to pursue a questionable 
line of conduct. It is one thing to be compelled to do what 
we would not ; it is another to choose to do what we need 
not. 

Reader, perhaps you have, in some shape or disguise, 
admitted this plea either deliberately or inadvertently. Will 
you give the matter a moment's consideration ? Take your- 
self to task ; allow and invite conscience to speak out ; en- 
deavor to enlighten it by referring to " the law and the testi- 
mony," and to rouse and stimulate it to fidelity by realizing 
the presence and scrutiny of a heart-searching God. 

You " MUST LIVE." But wlieu you are tempted to secure 
a livelihood, or even life itself, by sinning against God, bear 
in mind that you are entirely dependent on his blessing for 
success ; and that every act of injustice, wicked policy, or 
sin of any kind, has a direct tendency to provoke him to 
withhold his blessing and blast your best-laid schemes and 
most diligent endeavors. "Except the Lord build the 
house, they labor in vain that build it," Psalm 1^:1; and 
alas for that city, or house, or project, that is built under his 
curse. Josh. 6 : 26 ; 1 Kings, 16 : 34. Even success, which, 
when it crowns a lawful enterprise, pursued by lawful means, 
is to be traced to the blessing of God, must be regarded as a 
curse when it attends a bad cause, or the employment of 
wicked measures. See Psalms 78 : 29-31 ; 106 : 14, 45. 

You " MUST LIVE :" yes, and you luill live all the days of 
your appointed time ; but it is not necessary to your being, or 
your well-being, that you should live in a certain style, or 
accumulate a certain amount of property. A little, with the 
blessing of God and a good conscience, will go a great way. 
" Better is a little with righteousness, than great revenues 
without right." Prov. 16:8. "A little that a righteous man 
hath, is better than the riches of many wicked." Psa. 37 : 16. 



"WE MUtiT LIVE.' 15 

You " jvmsT LIVE." Nay, it is not absolutely necessary 
even that you should live. A great man once said, when 
pressed by his friends not to set sail in prospect of a storm 
coming on, "It is necessary that I should sail ; it is not 
necessary that I should live." A consistent Christian will 
reckon even his life second to his duty ; and there is no sac- 
rifice, however great, if made in obedience to the clear com- 
mands of God, that will not be abundantly recompensed. 

You " iMUST LIVE." There is something more certaixi. 
You 7nust die. And what value will you then set on all 
that you have gained by disobedience to God ? You will 
feel towards it as Judas did towards the price of iniquity — 
anxious to cast it away, and to get your hands washed from 
the guilt of having grasped it. It would be well, whenever 
a gamful temptation presents itself, whenever an inclination 
is felt to pursue a practice which needs some apolog}^ to 
think for a moment, " How should I feel towards this temp- 
tation if I were on my dying bed ? Should I be satisfied 
with this reason, this apology for my conduct, if I were sure 
that this very night I should be called to give in my account 
to the Judge of all?" 

You " MUST LIVE." Yes, you must live for ever. And 
how, and where will you live ? If you persist in a course 
of siiming against God, you will inevitably be the subject of 
his wrath for ever and ever ; for " God shall bring every 
work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be 
good, or whether it be evil." Eccles. 12 : 14. "For we 
must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ ; that 
every one may receive the things done in his body, according 
to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." 2 Cor. 
5:10. " The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the 
nations that forget God." Psalm 9 : 17. • 

But if you forsake what is evil, and conscientiously en- 
deavor to act in obedience to God — how then ? Can you 
thus insure a life of eternal happiness ? No ; you have 
already sinned, and forfeited heaven, and deserved the loss 



IG "WE MUST LlVi:." 

of your soul ; and, though you have destroyed, you cannot 
save yourself. There is but one Saviour, and one way of 
salvation : it is by casting yourself, as a poor perishing sin- 
ner, on the mercy of God, in and through his dear Son ; it 
is by a simple dependence on the righteousness and death 
of the Lamb of God, who died that sinners niight live. 
There is no salvation to be found elsewhere ; but he is able 
and willing to save to the uttermost all that come unto God 
by him. If you are joined to him by a living faith, your 
faith will work by love, and lead you to choose and practise 
those things that are pleasing in his sight. Thus, and thus 
alone, can you realize the happy experience of living to 
Christ on earth, and living with Christ in endless glory in 
heaven. Then, to you to live will be Christ, and to die, 
gain. 

where shall rest be found — 

Rest for the weary soul ? 
'Twere vain the ocean depths to sound, 

Or pierce to either pole. 

The world can never give 

The bliss for which we sigh ; 
'Tis not the whole of life to live, 

Nor all of death to die. 

Beyond this vale of tears 

There is a life above, 
Unmeasur'd by the flight of years ; 

And all that life is love. 
There is a death whose pang 

Outlasts the fleeting breath : 
what eternal horrors hang 

Around " the second death." 

Lofd God of truth and grace, 

Teach us that death to shun, 
Lest we be banish'd from thy face, 

And evermore undone. Montgomery. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Wo. 475. 

THE OX SERMON. 



Among the laws given by the divine Lawgiver through 
Moses to the Jews, was the following : "If an ox gore a man 
or a woman that they die, then the ox shall be surely stoned ; 
but the owner of the ox shall be quit. But if the ox ivcre 
wont to push with his horn in time past, and it hath been 
testified to his owner, and he hath not kept him in, but he 
hath killed a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned, and 
his owner also shall be put to death." Exod. 21 : 28, 29. 

The principle of this law is a very plain one, and a very 
broad one — here applied in a specific case, but extending to 
ten thousand others. It is this. Eveiy man is responsible 
to God for the evils wliich result from his selfishness, or his 
indifierence to the welfare of others. 

Ages before this law was given, God says to Noah, 
" Your blood of your lives will I require : at the hand of 
every beast will I require it, and at the hand of man." A 
stigma shall be fixed upon man or beast that shall destroy 
him who is made after the similitude of God. But why, in 
the case first supposed, is the owner quit, or guiltless ? Sim- 
ply because the death is not in any way the result of his 
carelessness or of his selfisliness. From any thing within 
his knowledge, he had no reason to expect such a result. 
But if the ox hath been U'07it to push with his horns, and he 
knew it, he shall be responsible for the consequences, what- 
ever they may be ; for he had every reason to expect that 
mischief would be done, and took no measures to prevent it. 
And if the ox kill a man or woman, the owner hath done 
the murder, and he shall be put to death. Why ? The 
death was the result of his selfishness, or his indifierence to 
the lives of others. And according to the law of God, his 
life shall go for it. The principle of this law is a principle 
of common-sense. 

You see a fellow-creature struggling in the water. You 
know that he can never deliver himself And you know 



2 THE OX SERiMON. 

that a very little assistance, such as you can render, will 
rescue him from a watery grave. You look on and pass by. 
True, you did not thrust him in. But he dies by your neg- 
lect. . His blood will be upon your head. At the bar of God, 
and at the bar of conscience, you are his murderer. Why ? 
You did not kill him. Neither did the owner of the ox lift 
a hand. But he shall surely be 'put to death. You had no 
malice, neither had he. You did not intend his death — at 
the very worst, you did not care. This is just his crime. 
He did not care. He turned loose a wild, fiery, ungoverna- 
ble animal, knowing him to be such ; and what mischief 
that animal might do, or what suffering he might cause, he 
did not care. But God held him responsible. 

Every man is responsible for evils which result from his 
own selfishness or indifierence to the lives of men. In other 
words, to make a man responsible for results, it is not neces- 
sary to prove that he has malice, or that he intended the 
results. The highwayman has no malice against him he 
robs and murders, nor does he desire his death, but his 
money ; and if he can get the money, he does not care. And 
he robs and murders because he loves himself and does not 
care for others ; acting in a different way, but on the same 
selfish principle with the owner of the ox ; and on the very 
same principle is he held responsible. 

In the trial of the owner of the ox, the only questions to 
be asked were these two : Was the ox ivont to push with his 
horn in time past ? Did the owner know it when he let 
him loose ? If both these questions were answered in the 
affirmative, the owner was responsible for all the conse- 
quences. This is a rule which God himself has established. 

Is INTOXICATING LIQUOR wout to producc miscry, and 
wretchedness, and death ? Has this been testified to those 
who make and deal in it as a beverage ? If these two things 
can be established, the inference is inevitable — they are 
responsible on a principle perfectly intelligible, a principle 
recognized and proclaimed, and acted upon by God himself 

Turn then your attention to these two facts. 1 . Intoxi- 



THE OX SERMOX. 3 

eating liquor is loont to prochice misery. 2. Those who 
.make or traffic in it, knoiv this. 

1. Upon the first point it will be sufficient to remind 
you of the hopes which intoxicating liquor has blasted, and 
the tears it has caused to flow. Let any one of us count up 
the number of its victims which we have known — consider 
their character and standing in society — their once happy 
families and prospects, and what a fearful change has a few 
years' use of strong drink produced. Yexj few but remem- 
ber twenty, thirty, fifty, or one hundred families ruined in 
this way. Some of them were once our intimate friends — 
and their story is soon told. 

They drank occasionally, for the sake of company, or 
merely for exhilaration. The relish for stimulants was thus 
acquired, and habits of dissipation formed. They became 
idle, and of course uneasy. And they continued to drink, 
partly to gratify taste and partly to quiet conscience. They 
saw the ruin that was coming upon them, and they made 
some earnest but inefiectual struggles against it. But the 
resistance became weaker and weaker — by and by the strug- 
gle is ended — they float with the current, and where are 
they ? One has been found by the temperance reformation, 
a mere Avreck in property, character, body, and mind, and 
reclaimed. Another is dead : his constitution could not bear 
his continued dissipation. Another died in a fit ; anotlfer 
was found by the road-side one cold morning, a stiffened 
corpse. Another was thrown from his horse, and is a crip- 
ple for life, but still can contrive means to pay a daily visit 
to the dram-shop. Another is a mere vagabond, unprinci- 
pled and shameless — wandering from shop to shop, a fit com- 
panion for the lowest company, a nuisance to society and a 
curse to his kindred. Another is in the penitentiary for a 
crime which he committed in a drunken frolic. 

Go into the crowded court-house and you may see an- 
other ; his countenance haggard and ghastly, and his eye 
wildly rolling in despair. What has he done ? One night, 
after spending -all his money for drink, and loitering about 
till all the shops were closed, he returned to his mi.serable 



4 THE OX SERMON. 

habitation. He found a few coals on the hearth, and his 
wife and children sitting by them. He threw one child this 
way and another that, for he was cold. His wife remon- 
strated, and withal told him that what little fire there was 
was none of his providing. With many a horrid oath he 
declared he would not be scolded after that sort. ' He would 
let her know who should govern, and by way of supporting 
his authority, beat her brains out with the last remaining 
stick of wood. He did not mean to kill her. Her dying 
struggles brought him to his senses, and he stood horror- 
struck. He would give almost any thing that the deed were 
not done. If that could restore her to life, he would be almost 
ready to give a pledge never to taste intoxicating liquor again. 
Now look at the wretchedness of his family. For years he 
has made very little provision for them ; they have lived as 
they could, half naked and half starved, and not educated at 
all — with a most wretched example before their eyes. What 
encouragement had the wife or the children to attempt any 
thing — to make any exertion ? The children are abused and 
trampled on at home, and they grow up without self-respect, 
without shame, and without principle. Can any thing good 
be expected of them ? And if they do rise, it must be through 
a world of difficulty. 

How many thousand families have been ruined in some 
such way as this. The father was a drunkard, and the 
mother — what could she do ? She endured, hoping against 
hope — and for the children's sake bore up against the cur- 
rent ; and many a time disguised a sad despairing heart un- 
der a joyful countenance, till at length she died of a broken 
heart, or died by the hands of him who had sworn to protect 
her. 

These, and things like these, are the effects of intoxicat- 
ing liquor — not casual, accidental, but common, natural 
effects, seen everywhere, in every toviai, in every neighbor- 
hood, and in every connection. Look which way we will, 
we see some of these effects. The greatest wretchedness 
which human nature in this world is called to endure, is con- 
nected with the use of inebriating drink. There is nothing 



THE OX SERMON. 5 

else that degrades and debases man like it — nothing so mean 
that a drunkard will not stoop to it — nothing too base for 
him to do to obtain his favorite drink. Nothing else so sinks 
the whole man — so completely destroys not only all mora] 
principle, but all self-respect, all regard to character, all 
shame, all human feeling. The drunkard can break out 
from every kind of endearing connection, and break over every 
kind of restraint ; so completely extinct is human feeling, 
that he can be drunk at the funeral of his dearest relative, 
and call for drink in the last accents of expiring nature. 

Now look at a human being, whom God has made for 
noble purposes, and endowed with noble faculties, degraded, 
disgraced, polluted, unfit for heaven, and a nuisance on earth. 
He is the centre of a circle — count up his influence in his 
family and his neighborhood — the wretchedness he endures, 
and the wretchedness he causes — count up the tears of a 
wretched wife who curses the day of her espousals, and of 
wretched children who curse the day of their birth. To all 
this positive evil which intoxicating liquor has caused, add 
the happiness which but for it this family might have en- 
joyed and communicated. Go through a neighborhood or a 
town in this way, count up all the misery which follows in 
the train of intoxicating liquor, and you will be ready to ask. 
Can the regions of eternal death send forth any thing more 
deadly ? AYherever it goes, the same cry may be heard? — 
lamentation, and mourning, and woe ; and whatever things 
are pure, or lovely, or venerable, or of good report, fall before 
it. These are its effects. Can any man deny that " the ox 
is wont to push with his horn ?" 

2. Has this been testified to the oivner ? Are the makers 
and venders aware of its effects ? The effects are manifest, 
and they have eyes, ears, and understandings, as well as 
others. They know that whatever profit they make is at 
the expense of human life or comfort ; and that the tide which 
is swelled by their unhallowed merchandise sweeps ten thou- 
sand yearly to temporal and eternal ruin. But this is not 
all. The attention of the public has been strongly turned 
to this subject. The minds of men have been enlightened, 
VOL. xir. 3 



6 THE OX SERMON. 

and their responsibility pressed home upon them. The sub- 
ject has been presented to them in a new Hght, and men 
cannot but see the absurdity of reprobating the tempted, 
while the tempter is honored — of blaming drunkards, and 
holding in reputation those whose business it is to make 
drunkards. 

But are the makers of intoxicating liquor aware of its 
effects ? Look at the neighborhood of a distillery — an influ- 
ence goes forth from that spot which reaches miles around — 
a kind of constraining influence, that brings in the poor, and 
wretched, and thirsty, and vicious. Those who have money 
bring it — those who have none, bring corn — those who have 
neither, bring household furniture — those who have nothing, 
bring themselves and pay in labor. Now the maker knows 
all these men, and knows their temperament, and probably 
knows their families. He can calculate effects, and he sends 
them ofi^ one to die by the way, another to abuse his family, 
and another just ready for any deed of wickedness. Will he 
say that he is not responsible, and like Cain ask, " Am I my 
brother's keeper ?" He knew what might be the result, and 
for a mere pittance of gain was willing to risk it. Whether 
this man should abuse his family, or that man die by the 
way, so his purpose was answered, he did not care. The ox 
was wont to push with his horn, and he knew it ; and for a 
little paltry gain he let him loose, and God will support his 
law by holding him responsible for the consequences. 

But a common excuse is, that " very little of our manu- 
facture is used in the neighborhood ; we send it off?' And 
are its effects any less deadly ? In this way you avoid seeing 
the efiects, and poison strangers instead of neighbors. Wliat 
would you say to a man who traded in clothes infected with 
the smallpox, and who would say by way of apology, that 
he sent them off— he did not sell any in the neighborhood ? 
Good man I he is willing to send disease and death all abroad ; 
but he is too kind-hearted to expose his neighbors. Would 
you not say to him, you may send them off, but you can- 
not send off the responsibility ? The eye of God goes with 
them, and all the misery which they cause will be charged 



THE OX SERMON. 7 

to you. So we say to the man who sends off his intoxicat- 
ing Hquor. 

" But if I do not make it and traffic in it, somebody else 
will." What sin or crime cannot be excused in this way? 
I know of a plot to rob my neighbor ; if I do not plunder 
him, somebody else will. Is it a privilege to bear the respon- 
sibility of sending abroad pestilence and misery and death ? 
" Our cause is going down," thought Judas, " and a price is 
set upon the head of our Master, and if I do not betray him 
somebody else will. And why may not I as well pocket the 
money as another ?" If you consider it a privilege to pocket 
the wages of unrighteousness, do so. But do not pretend to 
be the friend of God or man while you count it a privilege 
to insult the one and ruin the other ? 

Says another, " I wish it were banished from the earth. 
But then what can I do ?" What can you do ? You can 
keep one man clear ; you can wash your own hands of this 
wretched business. And if you are not willing to do that, 
very little reliance can be placed on your good wishes. He 
that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much. I can 
hardly conceive any thing more inconsistent with every gen- 
erous feeling, every noble principle, than the traffic in intoxi- 
cating liquor at the present day. The days of ignorance on 
this subject have passed by ; every man acts with his eyes 
open. 

Look at the shop and company of the retailer. There he 
stands in the midst of dissipation, surrounded by the most 
degraded and filthy of human beings, in the last stages of 
earthly wretchedness. His business is to kindle strife, to 
encourage profanity, to excite every evil passion, to destroy 
all salutary fears, to remove every restraint, and to produce 
a recklessness that regards neither God nor man. And how 
often in the providence of God is he given over to drink his 
own poison, and to become the most wretched of this wretch- 
ed company. Who can behold an instance of this kind with- 
out feeling that God is just. "He sunk down into the pit 
which he made ; in the net which he hid is his own foot 
taken." 



8 THE OX SERMON. 

Another will say, " I neither make nor traffic in it." But 
you drink it occasionally, and your example goes to support 
the use of it. You see its tremendous efiects, and yet you 
receive it into your house and bid it God speed. As far as 
your influence supports it and gives it currency, so far are 
you a partaker of its evil deeds. If you lend your influence 
to make the path of ruin respectable, or vi^ill not help to 
aihx disgrace to that path, God will not hold you guiltless. 
You cannot innocently stand aside and do nothing. 

A deadly poison is circulating over the land, carrying 
disease and desolation and death in its course. The alarm 
has been given. Its deadly effects have been described, seen, 
and felt. Its victims are of every class ; and however wide 
the diflerence in fortune, education, intellect, it brings them 
to the same dead level. An efibrt has been made to stay 
the plague, and a success surpassing all expectation has 
crowned the effort. Still, the plague rages to an immense 
extent. What will every good citizen do ? Will he not 
clear his house, his shop, his premises of it ? Will he not 
take every precaution to defend himself against it, and use 
his influence and his exertions to diminish its circulation and 
thus diminish human misery ? If he fears God or regards 
man, can he stop short of this ? Can he, in his recklessness 
and selfishness say, " Let others take care of themselves — 
I'll make no promises — I'll not be bound — -I am in no dan- 
ger ?" If he can speak and act thus, and stands aloof, and 
continues to drinlt, is he not guilty, and with the distiller 
and vender accountable to God for the perpetuation of these 
mighty evils, which but for his cooperation and agency must 
soon cease to exist ? "I speak as unto wise men ; judge ye 
what I say." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 476, 

THE 



MISSIONARY LEGACY 



In one of those lovely and fertile vales with which Eng- 
land abounds, resided an aged and godly mother. She had 
trained her children for the service of Christ, and was at 
length laid on the bed of affliction. There she exempli- 
fied the power of the Gospel in a meek submission of her- 
self and hers into the hands of God. She was ripening for 
glory about the time the missionary cause was first coming 
into notice. She had heard of the benevolent project of 
those pious men who broached the then ridiculed scheme of 
sending salvation to the heathen ; and just before her death, 
she called her daughter to her bedside, and said, with all 
the solemn, but elevated feeling of a dying Christian, ''Here 
are twenty xjounds ; I ivhh to give it to the onissionary 
cause. It is my 2JcirtictcIar desire, tliat after my death yaii 
will give it to that cause ; and depend upon it, you ivill 
never have any reason to he sorry for having given itT 

This dying bequest the daughter, who had much of her 
mother's spirit, carefully and conscientiously fulfilled. 

At length the first-born son of this daughter, as he grew 
up, gave symptoms of a state of mind and heart as opposite to 
that of his mother and grandmother as can well be imagined. 
As he approached man's estate, he became very profligate, 
utterly unmanageable either by tenderness or authority, and 
brought heart-rending trouble upon his mother. He threw 
off all regard for his friends — forsook them — entered into 
the army, and vanished altogether from their knowledge. 

The providence of God, however, at length brought him 
to India. Here, after some time, he fell into the company 
of a missionary. The man of God dealt faithfully with the 
youth, who was much impressed, and could neither gainsay 
nor get rid of the good man's words. At length his convic- 
tions prevailed, and divine grace subdued his heart. He 
became an altered man, and gave such evidence as satisfied 
the missionary of his true conversion to God. 
VOL. XII. 3* 



2 THE iMlStflO.NARY LEGACV. 

After a prudent trial of his steadfastness, the missiona- 
ries, influenced by a truly liberal and christianlike afiection 
for the young man, procured his discharge from the army, 
and took him under their own immediate care. At length, 
so satisfied were they of the devoted piety, the zeal, and the 
talents of this young convert, that they encouraged him in 
the design of dedicating his talents to the missionary work, 
and this youthful warrior became a humble soldier of the 
cross. 

He soon wrote to his afflicted and bereaved mother, 
stating the great change that had taken place, and detailing 
as well the merciful dealings of the Lord with his soul, as 
the singular change in his employmcHt. All this was ac- 
companied with the most humiliating expressions respecting 
himself, and with entreaties for the forgiveness of that kind 
and pious mother, whose affection he had neither appreci- 
ated nor improved. Let a parent conceive the mingled emo- 
tions of joy and surprise, of rapture and astonishment, which 
filled the mother's heart when she received this letter — 
when she read her profligate son's repentance, and his prayer 
for \\GY forgiveness. " Forgive you, my son," she cried out ; 
" how easy it is for me to forgive you." What a moment 
was that ; what a gush of feeling overcame the good woman 
when she thought of her dying mother and the twenty 
pounds. It was like Joseph's being sent into Egypt to pre- 
pare corn for the famished house of his father and brethren. 
Here was an answer to many prayers ; here was a return 
indeed, more than a hundred-fold, poured immediately into 
her own bosom. It was the Lord's doing, and it was mar- 
vellous in her eyes. 

But this good woman had a younger son, who in his 
early life seemed likely to be the stay of his father's house, 
and the prop of his mother's age. Alas, he also was lured 
into the snare which ruins so many promising youths — evil 
company. He fell into profligate habits, and resolved to go 
to India. 

All this occurred before any information reached the 
family respecting the first son. Of course, the loss of a 
second was enough to break the heart of such a mother. 
The announcement of his resolution to go to India was like 
tearing away the tenderest strings that were entwined 
around her heart. One already lost to her, and a second 



THE MItiSlUNARY J.EGACV. 3 

treading in his steps. It was almost too much for nature 
'to bear, even though supported and secured by grace. All 
that a mother could do she did. She wept, she prayed, she 
entreated — but all in vain. The youth was resolved, and 
it was hopeless to attempt to bring him to a better mind. 
When things were arrived at this point, she gave him up, 
indeed, as lost to herself and his family, but as still in the 
hands of a merciful and gracious God. 

Like a mother, however, whose heart yearned over the 
son of her womb, dear, though fallen, she sent him a small 
sum of money, with as many needful articles as she could 
procure, to render him comfortable, and left him to wander 
far from the peace and simplicity of his native vale. He 
sailed, he arrived in India, without any knowledge of what 
had befallen his brother, or even of what part of the world 
he might be in. 

This youth had not been long in India, before he, too, 
was brought in contact with some of the missionaries. After 
a short time, the sight and conversation of these good men 
reminded him of scenes at home. He recollected his father's 
house, the Gospel, the good instruction of his mother, her 
prayers and tears of love. The seeds sprung up, though in 
a foreign clime, and though a long and threatening winter 
had passed over them. The result was a decided change 
of heart and conduct. Soon after this change, it became 
evident that the climate disagreed with his constitution. 
His health and strength rapidly declined, and it became 
manifest that he would never return to tell his afflicled 
mother what the Lord had wrought for his soul. In this 
situation he was affectionately attended by the missionaries, 
who did all in their power to carry forward the work of 
grace in his heart. They earnestly sought the peace of his 
mind and the good of his soul ; and they had the unspeaka- 
ble happiness of reaping a rich reward of their labor. 

A mysterious and most gracious Providence now directed 
the steps of the elder son to the very place where his brother 
was dying. It will be readily conceived that these two 
brothers, now united by the strong ties of Christian affection 
as well as by those of nature, would feel an indescribable sat- 
isfaction, the one in administering, the other in receiving the 
attention and -services which such circumstances dictated. 
The eldest continued to the last administering to his youn- 



4 THE MIriSiOxNARY LEGACY. 

ger brother all the comfort both for body and soul which was 
ill his power ; and the younger continued to receive, with 
unutterable delight, the brotherly attentions and the spirit- 
ual assistance which had been so mercifully provided him in 
a strange and heathen land. At length he died, and the 
surviving brother wrote to his bereaved mother, announcing 
the peaceful end of her son, and consoling her by the descrip- 
tion of the happy days they had been permitted so unexpect- 
edly and almost miraculously to spend together. 

Before the contents of this letter were known, a report 
that her younger son was dead reached the ear of his 
mother, and filled her heart with sorrow. " My child is 
dead," she thought — "dead in sin against God; dead in a 
foreign land, among strangers, heathens ; not one to speak a 
word of divine truth, to tell him of mercy, of a Saviour's 
dying love, of hope for the chief of sinners ; no kind Chris- 
tian friend to pour out a prayer for his forgiveness, or to di- 
rect his departing spirit to that throne of grace where none 
ever plead in vain." 

Describing her feelings at this juncture, she says, " I 
could not weep, I could not pray ; I seemed to be stupefied 
with horror and agony. At last the letter of my surviving 
son informed me that the brothers had met ; that the eldest 
had witnessed the last moments of the younger ; and that 
this my second son had been met by the missionaries, and 
by them turned from the error of his ways ; that there was 
no doubt of the safety of his state, and that he had died in 
his brother's arms. 0," said she, "it was indeed a cordial 
to my soul. How marvellous are the ways of Heaven, that 
both my sons, after turning aside from the ways of God, and 
from every means of instruction at home, should be con- 
verted to God in a heathen land. the twenty pounds," 
she thought, " and the last declaration of my dear dying 
mother. what blessings to me were hidden in that twenty 
founds,. What do I owe her for that saying, ' You will 
never have cause to repent of giving it to the Missionary 
Society.' Could I have foreseen all this, what would 1 not 
have given." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



i\o. 477. 

NAPOLEON'S ARGUMENT 

FOR 

THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST, 

AND 

THE SCRIPTURES, 

IN A CONVERSATION WITH GENERAL BERTRAND, AT 
ST. HELENA. 

TRANSLATED FBOM THE FRENCH. 

" True, Christ offers to our faith a series of mysteries. 
He commands us authoritatively to believe, and gives no 
other reason than his awful word, / am God. 

*' True, this is an article of mere faith, and upon it de- 
pend all the other articles of the christian system ; but 
the doctrine of the divinity of Christ once admitted, and 
Christianity appears with the precision and clearness of 
algebra ; it has the connectedness and unity of a science. 

** This doctrine resting upon the Bible, best explains the 
traditions prevalent in the world. It throws light upon 
them ; and all the other doctrines of Christianity are strictly 
connected with it, as links of the same chain. The nature 
of Christ's existence is mysterious, I admit ; but this mys- 
tery meets the wants of man — reject it, and the world is 
an inexplicable riddle — believe it, and the history of our 
race is satisfactorily explained. 

** Christianity has one advantage over all systems of 
philosophy and all religions : christians do not delude 
themselves in regard to the nature of things. You can- 
not reproach them with the subtleties and artifices of those 



2 NAPOLEON S ARGUMENT FOR 

idealists who think to solve profound theological problems 
by their empty dissertations. Fools ! their eftbrts are those 
of the infant who tries to touch the sky with his hand, or 
cries to have the moon for his plaything. Christianity 
says simply, * No one hath seen God but God.. God re- 
veals what he is ; his revelation is a mystery which neither 
imagination nor reason can conceive. But when God 
speaks, man must believe.' This is sound common sense. 

" The Gospel possesses a secret virtue of indescribable 
efficacy, a warmth which influences the understanding 
and softens the heart ; in meditating upon it, you feel as 
you do in contemplating the heavens. The Gospel is 
more than a book ; it is a living thing, active, powerful, 
overcoming every obstacle in its way. See upon this 
table this book of books, (and here the emperor touched 
it reverently ;) I never cease reading it, and always with 
new delight. 

" Christ never hesitates, never varies in his instructions, 
and the least of his assertions is stamped with a simplicity 
and a depth which captivate the ignorant and the learned, 
if they give it their attention. 

"Nowhere is to be found such a series of beautiful 
thoughts, fine moral maxims, following one another like 
ranks of a celestial army, and producing in the soul the 
same emotion as is felt in contemplating the infinite ex- 
tent of the resplendent heavens on a fine summer night. 

" Not only is our mind absorbed, it is controlled, and 
the soul can never go astray with this book for its guide. 

" Once master of our mind, the Gospel is a faithful 
fi-iend, our father, and truly our God. A mother has not 
greater care for the infant on her breast. The soul, capti- 
vated by the beauty of the Gospel, is no longer its own. 
God occupies it altogether; he directs its thoughts and 
all its faculties ; it is his. 

" What a proof it is of the divinity of Christ, that, with 



THE DlViXITY OF CHRIST. 3 

SO absolute an empire, his single aim is the spiritual me- 
lioration of individuals, their purity of conscience, their 
union to the truth, their holiness of soul. 

" JNIy last argument is, there is not a God in heaven, if a 
mere man was able to conceive and execute successfully 
the gigantic design of making himself the object of su 
pi'eme worship, by usurping the name of God. Jesus 
alone dared to do this ; he alone said clearly and unfal 
teringly of himself, / am God ; which is quite different 
fiom saying, I a77i a god, or the?'e are gods. History men- 
tions no other individual who has appropriated to himself 
the title of God in the absolute sense. Heathen mytholo- 
gy nowhere pretends that Jupiter and the other gods 
themselves assumed divinity. It would have been on their 
part the height of pride and absurdity. They were dei- 
fied by their posterity, the heirs of the first despots. As 
all men are of one race, Alexander could call himself the 
son of Jupiter. But Greece laughed at the silly assump- 
tion ; and so in making gods of their emperors, the Ro- 
mans were not serious. Mahomet and Confucius merely 
gave out that they were agents of the Deity. Numa's 
goddess Egeria was only the personification of his. reflec- 
tions in the solitude of the woods. The Brahmas of In4ia 
are only deifications of mental attributes. 

" How then should a Jew, the particulars of whose his- 
tory are better attested than that of any of his cotempo- 
raries, — how should he alone, the son of a carpenter, give 
out all at once that he was God, the Creator of all things. 
He arrogates to himself the highest adoration. He con- 
structs his worship with his own hands, not with stones 
but with men. You are amazed at the conquests of Alex- 
ander. But here is a conqueror who appropriates to his 
own advantage, who incorporates with himself not a na- 
tion but the human race. Wonderful ! the human soul 
with all its faculties becomes blended with the existence 
of Christ. 



4 NAPOLEOiM S ARGUMENT FOR 

" And how 1 by a prodigy surpassing all other prodigies 
he seeks the love of men, the most difficult thing in the 
world to obtain ; he seeks what a wise man would fain 
have from a few friends, a father from his children, a wife 
from her husband, a brother from a brother ; in a word, 
the heart ; this he seeks, this he absolutely requires, and 
he gains his object. Hence I infer his divinity. Alexan- 
der, Caesar, Hannibal, Louis XIV, with all their genius, 
failed here. They conquered the world and had not a 
friend. I am perhaps the only person of my day who 
loves Hannibal, Caesar, Alexander. Louis XIV, who shed 
so much lustre upon France and the world, had not a 
friend in all his kingdom, not even in his own family. 
True, we love our children, but it is from instinct, from a 
necessity which the beasts themselves obey ; and how 
many children manifest no proper sense of our kindness 
and the cares we bestow on them, — how many ungi-ateful 
children ! Do your children. General Bertrand, love you ? 
you love them, but you are not sure of being requited. 
Neither natural affection nor your kindness will ever in- 
spire in them such love as christians have for God. When 
you die your children will remember you — doubtless 
while spending your money ; but your grand-children will 
hardly know that you ever existed. And yet you are Ge- 
neral Bertrand ! And we are here upon an island, where 
all your cares and all your enjoyments are centered in 
your family. 

"Christ speaks, and at once generations become his by 
stricter, closer ties than those of blood ; by the most sa- 
cred, most indissoluble of all unions. He Hghts up the 
flame of a love which consumes self-love, which prevails 
over every other love. 

"In this wonderful power of his will we recognize the 
Word that created the world. 

" The founders of other religions never conceived of this 



THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST. 6 

mystical love, which is the essence of Christianity, and is 
"beautifully called charity. 

** Hence it is that they have struck upon a rock. In every 
attempt to effect this thing, namely, to make himself belov- 
ed, man deeply feels his own impotence. 

" So that Christ's greatest miracle undoubtedly is the 
reign of charity. 

** He alone succeeded in liftin<? the heart of man to thino^s 
invisible, and in inducing him to sacrifice temporal things ; 
he alone, by influencing him to this sacrifice, has formed 
a bond of union between heaven and earth. 

" All who sincerely believe in him taste this wonderful, 
supernatural, exalted love, which is beyond the power of 
reason, above the ability of man ; a sacred fire brought 
down to earth by this new Prometheus, and of which 
Time, the great destroyer, can neither exhaust the force 
nor limit the duration. The more I (Napoleon) think of 
this, I admire it the more. And it convinces me absolute- 
ly of the divinity of Christ. 

** I have inspired multitudes with such affection for me 
that they would die for me. God forbid that I should com- 
pare the soldier's enthusiasm with christian charity, whi«h 
are as unlike as their cause. 

*' But after all, my presence was necessary, the lightning 
of my eye, my voice, a word from me ; then the sacred 
fire was kindled in their hearts. I do indeed possess the 
secret of this magical power which lifts the soul, but I 
could never impart it to any one ; none of my generals 
ever learnt it from me ; nor have I the secret of perpetu- 
ating my name and love for me in the hearts of men, and 
to effect these things without physical means. 

" Now that I am at St. Helena ; now that I am alone, 
chained to this rock, who fights and wins empires for me 1 
Where are any to share my misfortune ? any to think of 

VOL. XIT. 4 



6 NAPOLEON S ARGUiMENT FOR 

me] Who bestirs himself for me in Europe ] Who re- 
mains faithful to me 1 where are my friends 1 Yes, two or 
three of you, who are immortalized by this fidelity, ye 
share, ye alleviate my exile." 

Here the emperor's voice choked with grief. 

*' Yes, my life once shone with all the brilliance of the 
diadem and the throne, and yours, Bertrand, reflected that 
brilliance, as the dome of the * Invalids,' gilt by me, reflects 
the rays of the sun. But disasters came, the gold gradu- 
ally became dim, and now all the brightness is effaced by 
the rain of misfortune and outrage with which I am con- 
tinually pelted. We are mere lead now, General Ber- 
trand, and soon I shall be in my grave. 

Such is the fate of gi-eat men ! So it was with Caesar 
and Alexander, and I too am forgotten ! and the name 
of a conqueror and an emperor is a college theme ! our 
exploits are tasks given to pupils by their tutor, who sits 
in judgment upon us, awarding us censure or praise. 

" How different the opinions formed of the gi'eat Louis 
XIV. Scarcely dead, the great king was left alone in his 
solitary chamber at Versailles — neglected by his courtiers 
and perhaps the object of their ridicule. He was no more 
their master. He was a dead body, in his coffin, the prey 
of a loathsome putrefaction 

** And mark what is soon to become of me — assassinat- 
ed by the English oligarchy, I die before my time, and my 
dead body too must return to the earth to become food 
for worms. 

" Such is soon to be the fate of the great Napoleon. 
What a wide abyss between my deep misery and the 
eternal kingdom of Christ, which is proclaimed, loved, 
adored, and which is extending over all the earth ! Is 
this death 1 is it not life rather ? The death of Christ is 
the death of a God." 



THE DIVIMTV OF CHRIST. 



The emperor paused, and as General Bertrand did not 
answer, the emperor resumed : 

" You do not perceive that Jesus Christ is God ? then 
I did wrong to appoint you general !" 



The above is translated fi-om a French Tract, printed 
in Paris, with the title " Napoleon." The naiTative is con- 
fiiTned by a letter from the Rev. Dr. G. de Felice, Pro- 
fessor in the Theological Seminary at Montauban, France, 
in a communication inserted in the New-York Observer 
of April 16, 1842. 

Professor De Felice states, that the Rev. Dr. Bogue 
sent Napoleon at St. Helena a copy of his " Essay on the 
Divine Authority of the New Testament," which eye- 
witnesses attest that he read with interest and satisfaction. 
He also states that similar witnesses attest that he read 
much in the Bible, and spoke of it with profound respect ; 
and further, that there was a religious revival among the 
inhabitants of St. Helena, which extended to the soldiers, 
who prayed much for the conversion and salvation of the 
noble prisoner. Professor De Felice closes his communi- 
cation by translating from a recent French Journal the 
following conversation related by Count de Montholon 
the faithful friend of the Emperor. 

"I know men," said Napoleon, "and I tell you that 
Jesus is not a man ! 

" The religion of Christ is a mystery which subsists by 
its own force, and proceeds from a mind which is not a 
human mind. We find in it a marked individuality, which 
originated a train of words and maxims unknown before, 
Jesus borrowed nothing fiom our knowledge. He ex- 



8 NAPOLEOxX's ARGUMENT, &c. 

hibited in himself the perfect example of his precepts. 
Jesus is not a philosopher ; for his proofs are miracles, 
and from the first his disciples adored him. In fact, learn- 
ino- and philosoiDhy are of no use for salvation ; and Jesus 
came into the world to reveal the mysteries of heaven and 
the laws of the Spirit, 

" Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne and myself founded 
empires ; but upon what did we rest the creations of our 
genius 1 Upon force. Jesus Christ alone founded his em- 
pire upon love ; and at this hour milhons of men would 
die for him. 

" It was not a day or a battle which achieved the tri- 
umph of the christian religion in the world. No, it was a 
long war, a contest for three centuries, begun by the 
apostles, then continued by the flood of christian genera- 
tions. In this war all the kings and potentates of earth 
w^ere on one side : on the other I see no army but a mys- 
terious force, some men scattered here and there in all 
parts of the world, and who have no other rallying point 
than a common faith in the mysteries of the cross. 

** I die before my time, and my body will be given back 
to the earth to become food for worms. Such is the fate 
which so soon awaits him who has been called the great 
Napoleon. What an abyss between my deep misery and 
the eternal kingdom of Christ, which is proclaimed, loved 
and adored, and which is extending over the whole earth ! 
Call you this dying % is it not living rather ] The death of 
Christ is the death of a God!" 



PUBLISHED BT THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 478, 

DON'T BE OFFENDED 



" So he turned and ivent aivay in a rage.'" And why 
did Naaman go away from the prophet in a rage ? 

He was a great and honorable man at the court of Syria, 
a mighty and victorious general, and a favorite of the king ; 
but he teas a leper. In compliance with the advice of a 
little captive Jewess, he took princely gifts and went to the 
prophet Elisha to be cured. Arriving in state at the proph- 
et's dwellmg, where he expected to be received with defer- 
ence and respect, Elisha simply " sent a messenger unto 
him, saying, Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thy 
flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be clean." 
Then it was that " Naaman was wroth, and went away, 
and said, Behold, I thought, he will surely come out to me, 
and stand, and call on the name of the Lord his God, and 
strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper. Are not 
Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the 
waters of Israel ? may I not wash in them, and be clean ? 
So he turned and went away in a rage." 2 Kings, 5:11,12. 

The directions of the prophet, and the manner of con- 
veying them, were mortifyhig to his pride, and therefore 
Naaman was offended. Had it been the poorest servant of 
my household, thought Naaman, with no retinue, no rank, 
and not a shekel of silver to call his own, he could not have 
been received with less distinction, and would have been 
equally able to obtain a cure on terms such as these. 

Again, the directions given were entirely different from 
his preconceived, notions of obtaining a cure, and therefore 
he was offended. He had made up his mind that he was 
to be cured like a great man, and he had brought his talents 
of silver and pieces of gold to pay for it. But no, instead 
of simply standing still and receiving his cure from the 
hands of the prophet with an unhumbled heart, he must 
lay aside all his lofty notions, and do ail act which should 
prove tlmt his heart was humbled, and his pride subdued. 
He must go and wash seven times in Jordan. 

And more, if Naaman was displeased with this mode 
VOL. \ii. 4* 



2 DON'T BE OFFENDED. 

of cure, there ivas no alternative presented, and therefore 
he was offended. He must either go and dip himself seven 
times in Jordan, or he must live and die a leper. Surely, 
he thought, Elisha might come out and listen to me, that if 
I should object to this way of cure, he might tell me of one 
more congenial to my feelings. "So he turned and went 
away in a rage." 

Ah, says my dear impenitent reader, " This was very 
foolish in Naaman, to reject for such reasons the means of 
escaping so dreadful a disease." 

Bear with me, then, while I say, as Nathan to David, 
Thou art the man. Thou art afflicted with a disease worse 
than that of Waaman — the leprosy of s,in ; and unless thou 
art healed by the only means which Christ the good Physi- 
cian has prescribed, the result will be, not the death of the 
body merely, but the ruin of the never-dying soul. 

As Naaman was told by Elisha how to be cured of his 
leprosy, so have you been told that " there is no other name 
under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved," 
but the name of Jesus Christ. Acts 4 : 12. You have 
been told that " God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should 
not perish, but have everlasting life ;" and that while " h(; 
that believeth on the Son hath life, he that believeth not 
the Son, shall not see life, but the tvrath of God abideth on 
him.''' John 3 : 16, 36. And while you have heard the 
only way of salvation faithfully proclaimed, and the conse- 
quences of neglecting it solemnly pointed out, perhaps, like 
Naaman, you have been offended and gone away in a rage. 

The terms of the Gospel are mortifying to the 2^ride of 
the natural heart. " What," say you, "though I am a rich 
man, and an honorable man, and a learned man, cannot I 
purchase salvation with my money or my fame, but must I 
come and crave it upon the same terms as the poor beggar?" 
Or, if neither rich nor learned, you have said, " What, 
though I am an honest man, a sober man, a respectable 
man, a moral man, must I come upon the same terms as the 
thief, or the drunkard, or the profligate ?" And while you 
have been told that all your respectability, all your morality, 
all your self-righteousness can avail nothing in the matter 
of justification ; that the blood of Jesus Christ, and that 
alone, cleanseth from all sin, and that you must either wash 



DON'T BE OFFENDKD. 3 

in that fountain for sin, or remain a poor miserable leper for 
ever, you have been offended, and, like Naaman, gone away 
in a rage. 

But Naaman had prudent servants, and they reasoned 
with him kindly and wisely. When he was turning away 
in a rage, they said to him, " My father, if the prophet had 
bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done 
it ? how much rather when he saith to thee. Wash, and be 
clean ?" Happy for Naaman that he was blessed with these 
kind advisers, and that he listened to their advice. He fol- 
lowed the directions of the prophet, and was healed of his 
leprosy, so that "his flesh came again like the flesh of a 
little child, and he was clean." 

lu like manner I entreat you, go to Jesus, wash in the 
" fountain filled with blood," and be at once healed of the 
leprosy of sin. Why, like Naaman, should you turn away 
in a rage ? My brother, my sister, my father, if thou wert 
commanded to do some great thing, wouldst thou not do it 
to obtain eternal life? how much rather when it is only 
Wash, and be clean — ^believe, and be saved — give up doing, 
that thou mayest merit salvation, and simply trust in Christ, 
who has done all — and rely upon his atonement and right- 
eousness as the only and sufficient ground of hope and de- 
pendence for thee, a poor, perishing, and guilty sinner. 

The writer was once as much offended with salvation by 
grace as thou canst be, till he saw that his best deeds were 
defiled by sin, and that if not saved by free grace manifested 
through Christ the Saviour, he could not be saved at all. 
Will you be offended with Imn for urging and entreating you, 
by all that is momentous in eternity, and heaven, and hell, to 
fly to Christ for mercy, that your precious soul may be saved ? 

Is it with that once dear relative you are offended ; that 
wife, or sister, or daughter, who has left you alone to tread 
the road you once travelled together, the road that leads to 
death ? Oh, do not be offended. If you will destroy your 
own soul by rejecting the only way of salvation, do not re- 
quire her to do the same. Be content to go down to hell 
alone, without requiring one who was once dear to be your 
companion on that doleful journey. But you need not be 
separated ; accompany that dear friend in the road that 
leads to heaven. Trust in the same precious Saviour, and 
you shall meet in the same heaven at last. 



4 DOxN'T BE OFFENDED. 

Is it with the truth you are offended — the truth, that you 
are, by nature, a lost and guilty sinner — that except you 
repent, you must perish — that salvation, if obtained at all, 
must be, not through your own merits, but the merits and 
sufferings of another, and that the honor of that salvation 
will belong not to you, but to Christ, who gave . himself a 
ransom for many ? I am aware that these truths are as 
offensive to the unrenewed heart as were Elisha's directions 
to the proud Naaman, and many who hear them, like him, 
go away in a rage. But 0, my dying fellow-sinner, do not 
be offended. These are Bible truths, whether you believe 
them, or whether you reject them ; and remember, that your 
unbelief or your anger does not alter their nature, they are 
triiths still ; and if you do not believe it before, you will find 
them to be truths when it is too late to avail yourself of that 
knowledge. solemn, solemn words ; and yet they are the 
words of Christ : He that believeth not, shall be damned. 
Mark 16 : 16. 

Is it with tlie Lord Jesus Christ you are offended ? From 
the evident unwilhngness to hear his name mentioned, dis- 
played by some, no less than from the open enmity exhibited 
by others to Christ and his religion, it is, alas, too manifest 
that there are many who are offended with Christ himself 
But why offended with the precious Saviour, who left his 
throne to suffer and agonize on the cross to provide a way 
of salvation for thee, poor sinner ? do not be offended 
with HIM who shed his precious blood to open a fountain for 
sin and unclearmess. Rather come to him as a poor, weary, 
heavy-laden sinner, crying for mercy ; for he has invited thee 
in those blessed words, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matt. 11 : 28. 

Remember, if you, like the Syrian leper, go away in a 
rage, yours will be the loss and the ruin. Suppose Naaman 
had had no faithful servant to expostulate with him, and 
had finally left the prophet in a rage, who would have been 
the loser ? Without doubt, he would have lived and died a 
poor miserable leper. So, my fellow-sinner, will it be with 
thee. If tlwu be ivise, thou shall be ivise for thyself; but 
iftlwu sco)iiest, THOU alone shalt bear it. Prov. 9 : 12. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Wo. 479. 

TRAINING CHILDREN 

FOR 

THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 



If the rising hopes of the church be not destined to dis- 
appointment, if the anticipated conversion of the world be 
not to linger in abeyance and the efforts for its accom- 
plishment to expire, the next generation must surpass the 
present in the devotedness of their piety, the fervency of 
their prayers, and the extent, vigor, and success of their 
enterprises in God's service. The expectation of such an 
advance, under the blessing of the Holy Spirit, enters as 
an essential element into all the calculations of the church 
for the speedy conversion of the nations ; it it be not re- 
alized, these calculations will be confounded. Let the 
church, then, ask, before giving loose to her winged hop§s, 
what indications can be found in the actual condition of 
the rising generation that they w^ill surpass their prede- 
cessors in spiritual power ] What efforts are made suited 
to secure this result 1 If none, then the hopes of the spee- 
dy triumph of th*e Gospel, based on the supposition of this 
approaching improvement, are illusory — mere dreamy 
hopes, unsupported alike by reason and by facts. The 
coming generation will be, under God, w^hat the present 
generation shall make it. Hence the duty of training 
children for the conversion of the world is essential to the 
success of the missionary enterprise. 

In considering this duty, the attention must, in the out- 
set, be directed to the qualifications iNDisPENSABLn 



2 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

CN THE GENERATION THAT SHALL SPREAD THE GoSPEL 
THROUGH THE WORLD. 

The present generation of christians, like the Israehtes 
led out of Egypt by Moses, have been so long ground in 
bondage to worldliness, and corrupted with preyailing spi- 
ritual idolatry, as to be unfit to endure the toil or to enjoy 
the blessings of entering the promised possession of the 
church. They are indeed led to its borders. They have 
sent out their missionaries to explore it, and might enter 
it in triumph if they v^ould. But while here and there a 
Caleb and a Joshua are ready to go forward, the majori- 
ty look at the Anaks in the land, and the cities walled and 
very great, and seem likely for their supineness and un- 
belief to die in the wilderness. The christians that are to 
be the instruments of renovating the world must possess 
qualifications of which the church is at present destitute. 

They must vastly exceed the present generation in the 
extent arid vigor of their benevolent enterprises . Glorious as 
have been the results of modern missions, yet, when com- 
pared with the conversion of all mankind, the work ac- 
complished seems scarcely more than pulling away a lit- 
tle moss in the attempt to remove the Andes. Considered 
as the beginning of continually increasing efforts, the re- 
sult is encouraging and glorious ; considered as a station- 
ary influence, it is utterly disheartening. By the united 
efforts of all the Protestant churches in Christendom not 
more than 1,500 ordained missionaries are sustained 
among the heathen, while from year to year scarcely 
enough are sent out to fill the places of the dead ; little 
more than two and a half millions of dollars are annually 
contributed for the object ; and not one quarter of the sta- 
tions are occupied where Providence has opened the way 
for successful missionary operations. Efforts on this scale 
will never evangelize the world. 

The church must be ready to encamp on every spot 
where the guiding pillar of cloud may rest, until the 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 3 

world is filled with the knowledge of the Lord; and that, 
although to supply one pastor to every 3,000 of the 
600,000,000 heathen will require 200,000 men, a number 
more than ten times as great as that of all the evangelical 
clergy in the United States. Nor is this an impossible 
undertaking; for arithmetical calculations demonstrate 
that the church, even with its present resources, might, 
without great sacrifice, accomplish the work in a quarter 
of a century. But what the present generation only spe- 
culate about, they who shall spread the Gospel through the 
world will do. They will send the living preacher to every 
town, and the Bible and schools to every family on the 
globe — a work, which, however it may be accelerated by 
native preachers, will still demand an enterprise and an 
energy of the possibility of which the church as yet has 
hardly become conscious. 

Conceive now of the church engaged in benevolence on 
a scale adequate to supply the whole world with the 
means of grace within a quarter or a half of a century ; 
picture to yourself the numbers employed, the resources 
applied, the activity and self-denial elicited, and you will 
see a new aspect of christian society ; you will see the 
bustle of worldly enterprise rivalled by the activity of 
missionary business ; you will see a christian community 
in which every hamlet resounds with the preparations of 
benevolence ; you will see a church actuated by the spi- 
rit, though not called literally to imitate the conduct of the 
primitive christians in selling all and devoting it to Christ ; 
a church ready to bind all that they have, as Abraham 
bound Isaac, and lay it on God's altar ; a church whose 
whole existence may be described in the words of the 
apostle, " For me to live is Christ." 

Pre-eminent piety is a qualification necessary for the 
generation that shall evangelize the world. God has pro- 
mised it : " He that is feeble among them at that day shall 
be as David, and the house of David as the angrel of the 



4 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

Lord. The light of the moon shall be as the light of the 
sun, and the light of the sun sevenfold." It is necessary 
in order to sustain the enlarged operations of the church. 
When Zion " lengthens her cords" she must proportion- 
ally " strengthen her stakes." It is easy to cypher out 
how many dollars, and presses, and men will evangelize 
the world ; but without God's Spirit all means and appli- 
ances are to the heathen world but as clothing to the 
corpse, neither warming it nor preserving it from decay. 
It is a law in the economy of grace as well as in 
that of miracles : " The power of working mighty works 
goeth not forth but by prayer and fasting." This law can 
not be evaded. The efficiency of a given force cannot bt 
increased by the addition or improvement of machinery 
beyond a certain limit. The conviction is seizing thought- 
ful minds that the piety which now propels the benevo 
lent operations of the church has nearly reached that limit. 
Something may yet be gained by extending and improv- 
ing the machinery. But to expect by that means to evan- 
gelize the world, without an increase of the holy love which 
propels the work, is expecting a perpetual motion, unat- 
tainable alike in physical mechanics and in spiritual. The 
churches must receive a new baptism with the Holy Ghost. 
The piety of the generation which shall convert the 
world must be marked by deep imvard experience. The 
** form of godliness" without the power thereof may be as 
real and as ruinous in bustling activity as in superstitious 
ceremonies. The activity of the church, inadequate as it 
is, has unquestionably advanced more than the spiritual 
experience of the heart. This disproportion is betokened 
by the instability of many, the fitfulness of their zeal, the 
languor of their prayers, their readiness to be discouraged, 
and the necessity of stimulating them continually with 
pungent appeals in order to secure their charities. Deep 
religious experience wrought by God's Spirit is '* the 
power of godliness." It alone can enable any generation 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 

of christians to meet and. vanquish the gigantic difficulties 
'of spreading the Gospel thiough the world. The strength 
of the church lies in the hidden emotions and struggles 
and prayers of individual souls. Then will the tree of the 
Lord flourish at the last, when every little tendril of the 
root, hidden in its fitting place in the soil, is perpetually 
drawing up nutriment for the trunk and boughs. Then 
will the church be strong and fruitful, when every closet 
is a hidden duct, conveying always spiritual nutriment to 
the system. Then will there be emotions intense as Paul's 
when he cried, " I have great heaviness and continual 
sorrow of heart," and prayers will pervade the church, 
fervent as that of Knox, when he cried, " Lord, give me 
Scotland, or I die ;" fervent as those of David, and Jere- 
miah and Daniel, when they wept rivers of waters for the 
dishonor done to God. Then the efforts of the church will 
spring from the deep humiliation which has learned the 
extent and bitterness of guilt, from the sense of sin which 
bewails its prevalence in the world as the sorest of evils, 
from the experience of human weakness which leads to 
entire reliance on G od, from the love which many waters 
cannot quench, and the faith which says, " I can do all 
things through Christ that strengtheneth me." 

The generation that is to evangelize the world must 
better understand than is usual with christians, and more 
consistently practise the principles of the Bible. If many 
scriptural principles are to be interpreted by the preva- 
lent conduct of the church, their force is gone. In the 
common customs of christians is a Talmud to the church, 
which, worse than the traditions of the Rabbins, makes 
the command of God of no effect. Two or three exempli- 
fications must suffice. 

The Bible commands, " Whatever ye do, do all for the 
glory of God." Can he be obeying this command who 
forgets his religion in the excitement of politics 1 who 
I'egulates his mercantile transactions by the principles of 

VOL. XIT. 5 



b TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

selfishness and the maxims of the world 1 who shuts out 
his piety from his common conversation ] who puts on his 
sacred robes, like Aaron, when he goes to the temple, 
and casts them aside when he goes to the field or the 
shop ? who " cantons off a little Goshen " in a corner of the 
day and admits on it the light of Scripture and of prayer, 
but leaves the rest in Egyptian darkness 1 whose guiding 
principle is not, *' What saith the Lord," but, " What 
is tolerated by common custom 1" and who screens with 
his religion the wicked institutions, the genteel con-up- 
tions, and the fashionable follies of society 1 If such a re- 
ligion were spread through the world, what would it avail 
but to gild its iniquities without removing them ] 

The Bible says, '* Seek ye first the kingdom of God." 
How does the worldly professor explain this 1 Ask his 
thoughts and they will testify, " We were directed to 
God a few minutes this morning, though even then scat- 
tered and wandering ; but all day we have been fixed on 
worldly schemes." Ask his desires and they will testify, 
" On rare occasions we are fixed on things above, but day 
by day we fasten with all our might on worldly acquisi- 
tions." Ask his tongue and it will testify, " My conversa- 
tion savors of this world." Ask that highest of his facul- 
ties, reason, and her testimony is, ** My common business 
is to devise plans for worldly advantage." His lips pro- 
fess that he seeks first the kingdom of God ; his whole life 
testifies that he seeks first the world. 

The Bible says, *' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- 
self" Does he obey this, who, for enjoyment and luxury, 
spends fifty dollars on himself as often as he gives one to 
save the whole human race 1 who shrinks from every 
effort that is not pleasant and convenient 1 who refuses 
every sacrifice that involves real self-denial and crosses 
pampered self? 

Very differently must the generation that shall evange- 
lize the world apply these and kindred texts. They must 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 7 

live SO that their daily practice shall declare that they are 
not their own ; so that one will need only to look at their 
conduct to know that they live not to lay up treasure on 
earth, bat in heaven. 

TJiey icill need to possess in mass the character of re- 
formers. Such is the character which Paul exemplified, 
which Wesley, and Knox, and Luther, and Martyn more 
or less imperfectly exhibited. When God has had a great 
work to be done, he has raised up such men as these to 
perform it. But the conversion of the world, the most 
stupendous of all reformations, immeasurably surpassing 
that of Luther, and demanding a proportionally greater 
development of spiritual power, is not to be the work of 
an individual. It demands a whole generation of reform- 
ers : a whole church animated as a mass with the burning 
energy, the uncompromising steadfastness, the heroic be- 
nevolence, the glowing love of the truth, and the deep 
piety, which animated Luther and Paul. In times of revo- 
lution, when great interests are at stake, great principles 
defended, and great changes in progress, the people as a 
whole exhibit an intensity of feeling and effort which, at 
another time, would be extraordinary in a single indivi- 
dual. The conversion of the world is to be the greatest 
of all revolutions, accomplished gradually and in quiet, 
but pulling down the most massive of the old strongholds 
of error, and changing the whole aspect of the world. The 
actors in it must exhibit the intensity of feeling and effort 
which such an era demands. The cause must go down 
deep into men's hearts ; love to God and men must un- 
derlie and heave the christian community throughout ; and 
the church, with all the fire of revolution, and all the en- 
erg^v of the mig^htiest reformation, and all the love, humi- 
lity and faith which become the disciples of Christ, must 
throw themselves into the work as the one business of life, 
as the vital interest of society, as the end of all heroism, 
the sum of all greatness, the grand object of the existence 



8 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

of the world. At present, low spiritual attainments are the 
characteristic of the church, pre-eminent piety the excep- 
tion ; before the world will be converted, pre-eminent piety 
must be the characteristic, low attainments the exception. 

The present tendency of all benevolent efforts to asso- 
ciation is an indication of the design of Providence to 
spread the Gospel through the world, not by one or two 
distinguished reformers, but by the energy and prayers 
of the mass of the church. When about to lay the founda- 
tion of civil and religious liberty, and of his kingdom in 
the new world, he raised up, iiot a Luther or a Paul, but 
a whole race of Puritans, a whole generation of reformers. 
When about to convert the nations to himself, he will 
raise up a yet nobler and a godlier race as actors in it. 

Such are some of the indispensable qualifications of the 
christians who shall evangelize the world, or who shall 
even commence operations on such a scale as will, within 
a reasonable period, secure the result. All christians, who 
expect the spread of the Gospel through the world, are 
expecting that ere long such a character will be exhibited 
by the church. 

But as yet there is no evidence that these expec- 
tations ARE about to be REALIZED. The present genera- 
tion of christians exhibit no evidence that they are about 
to rise to higher piety and to discharge their hitherto ne- 
glected duty to the perishing world. We discover no such 
cheering indications in those that are coming upon the 
stage. The young are not converted. To select at random 
a single instance, here is a church numbering 305 mem- 
bers, only 28 of whom are under 21 years of age. Con- 
nected with this church is a congregation comprising 159 
families, in 120 of which one or both of the parents pro- 
fess religion. Thus while three fourths of the families en- 
joy the counsels of a pious parent, almost all of the youth 
are living in impenitence. This instance is far from being 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 9 

an unfavorable specimen of the state of the churches gene- 
rally. What does the fact argue but a serious defect of 
some kind in the training of children, that, while so con- 
siderable a proportion of parents are professedly Christ's 
disciples, yet, with all the co-operation of pastors, Sab- 
bath-schools, maternal associations, and publications for 
the young, so few throughout the country become chris- 
tians in early life ? And the young who do experience 
religion are not rising to any higher jnety or putting forth 
more strenuous efforts than their predecessors. What then 
is the ground to expect that the church will be better 
qualified to evangelize the world thirty years hence than 
at present, or will do any more to accomplish it % Facts, 
BO far as the present condition of the young is concerned, 
compel the answer, none. 

Whence, then, is to come the generation pious and en- 
ergetic enough to send the Gospel to all mankind % The 

CHURCH MUST TRAIN HER CHILDREN FOR THE WORK OF 

EVANGELIZING THE WORLD. The dreamy expectation of a 
rapid growth in piety, while no preparation is made to 
effect it, is as ruinous as it is delusive ; it satisfies the 
church with inaction through the vague hope of miracu- 
lous improvement. Shall we supinely fold our hands and 
wait for God to raise up helpers — to send us Gideons and 
Samsons ] Will the Lord open windows in heaven to 
make this thing be % Away with expectations so indefi- 
nite, presuming and irreverent. One Jonathan and his 
armor-bearer, meeting the foe in the strength of the Lord, 
may expect to conquer ; but thousands supine in their 
tents look in vain for victory from Jehovah. It dishonors 
God to rely on his now working miracles to endow the 
church with the high qualifications indispensable to secure 
the salvation of mankind. We have no right to expect the 
rising generation to attain these qualifications without 
sedulous, systematic, persevering education. Without 

VOL. XII. 5* 



10 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

this, according to the whole course of human events, the 
church in their day will be as small, as inefficient, and as 
worldly as in our own. It is, then, the business of the 
church to begin and to prosecute with all her energy the 
work of training her children to save the world. 

Christians have no alternative. If they will not give up 
their cherished hopes, if they mean not to suffer the op- 
portunities every where opening for the spread of the Gos- 
pel to remain for another generation unoccupied, and the 
calls for help which every breeze sweeps to our ears to 
remain unheeded, they must train their children for the 
conversion of the world. Living, as we do, at a time 
when the foundations of idolatry are tottering, when the 
iron gates of the nations are shaken open, and changes 
are sweeping over the world with the swiftness and 
power of the whirlwind, we must leave to our children 
the sublime but dangerous legacy of deciding the most 
momentous questions in the progress of society, of fight- 
ing the most decisive battles for the truth, of improving 
the noblest opportunities for spreading the Gospel, which 
ever signalized the history of the church. 

Never was a trust more solemn committed to men than 
that now committed to the church, the training through 
infancy to manhood of those who are to be the decisive 
actors in the momentous scenes about to open on the 
world. Wo to the church, if she so train her children 
that, like the ill trained sons of Eli, they take the ark out 
into the most momentous of conflicts only to abandon it 
to the foe. Wo to her and to the world, if she so ne- 
glect her children that, through their waiit of qualifications 
for their responsibilities, the nations shall stretch out their 
arms in vain to God, idolatry shall crumble into atheism, 
emancipated mind become the enemy of piety, supersti- 
tion enlarge her shadow, corrupt Christianity consummate 
her usurpations, and for untold years worldliness, like a 
new deluge, roll its waves over the earth. Standing as she 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 11 

doeii on the verge of great events, hearing the not 3 of 
'preparation, the cry for deliverance, the defiance of ene- 
mies, and seeing the hand of God moving the nations as 
of old he moved the tops of the mulberry trees as a signal 
to advance, the church must not only do her utmost in 
her own person, but must with all her might train her 
children for the conversion of the world. The fact that 
the revival of the missionary spirit was accompanied by 
the introduction of the Sabbath-schools and other modern 
institutions for the relig-ious traininsr of children, is a re- 
markable coincidence by which Providence is pointing 
out the indispensable connection between such training 
and the advancement of Christ's kingdom. 

The family is the school in ivhich this training must he 
accomplished. High as are the qualifications for evange- 
lizing the world, every parent is under obligation to make 
it his grand object in the education of his children to se- 
cure to them these qualifications. Pastors and teachers, 
and all interested for the young, should indeed have the 
same objects for their efforts and prayers ; but the great 
responsibility rests on parents; it cannot be transferred 
from them ; they must bear it to the judgment. If chiis- 
tian parents would earnestly engage in this work, God 
would bless it with success. If, as we expect, the m^ss 
of children will, in a future age, be converted in their 
childhood, it will not be by a miracle, but by God's blessing 
on faithful training and earnest prayer. This is the very 
object for which the world is divided into families, that 
each child may have the training which, as an immortal 
being and a servant of God, it needs. God's promises of a 
blessing on such efforts are full and explicit. Facts cor- 
roborate the promises. The established connection be- 
tween means and ends would be broken, if the church, 
making the conversion of the world the first object in 
training her children, should systematically, prayerfully, 
and earnestly pursue it, and yet fail of success. 



12 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

Let every pious parent regard his family as a little 
school for the church, and act as a teacher designated by the 
Savior on purpose to train the children for his service, and 
we shall see the glorious result. Let parents neglect this 
duty, and their children will prove incompetent to meet 
the responsibilities awaiting them, and the parents must 
answer for the ruin that will ensue. The laws of Lycur- 
gus required that all the children of Sparta should be 
trained for the state. Jesus teaches his subjects to be- 
lieve that children are a heritage of the Lord, and to train 
them for the church. The laws of Lycurgus were obeyed ; 
and generation after generation of hardy soldiers grew up 
and made their little city mistress of all Greece. And if 
the laws of Christ be obeyed, will there not grow.up sol- 
diers of the cross, ready, like Paul, to suffer the loss of all 
things that they may win Christ ; and able to push the 
triumphs of the cross to the ends of the earth 1 Training 
children for the state made Sparta irresistible : can the 
church be conquered when her children are trained to her 
service, when " her sons shall come from far, and her 
daughters shall be nursed at her side V 

There must be some prevalent and culpable de- 
ficiency IN TRAINING THE CHILDREN OF THE CHURCH. 

This is evident, because so large a proportion of them are 
living in impenitence, and so few appear to be pressing 
on toward the qualifications needed for the duties which 
await them. Some of these deficiencies will be mentioned. 
1. Parents aim at nothing higher than the conversion of 
their children. The burthen of their anxiety, their pray- 
ers, their conversation as to the spiritual concerns of their 
children is that they may be converted : when this is 
gained they feel that their prayers are answered, their 
work done. It is indeed a solemn responsibility that the 
parent must be chiefly instrumental in deciding for heaven 
or for hell the destiny of the immortal beings committed 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 13 

in a state of helplessness to his care. It is a blessed re- 
ward to the parent who has seen a child die in the hopes 
of the Gospel, to believe that he has given being to one 
of the angelic choir of heaven. But to train a child with 
no higher end than its own conversion will never fit it 
to act its part in the renovation of the world. Christ re- 
quires the parent to train his child to do good; to make 
it his first and constant desire, and prayer, and effort to 
qualify his children to accomplish the utmost of which their 
energies are capable for the advancement of the church. 

This deficiency is a gi'and reason why children are not 
converted. A desire only for the child's salvation from 
hell, may be selfish, actuated, however earnest, by little 
more than natural affection. Ought the parent to expect 
prayers to be heard, aiming only at the welfare of a 
dear child, not at the advancement of Christ's cause 1 

Many parents have a secret fear that their children will 
become missionaries. This fear hangs as a millstone on 
their prayers and efforts to train their children for the con- 
version of the world ; it makes them teach them with a 
stammering tongue, if at all, that they are not their own ; 
it makes them use many limitations and qualifications in 
teaching the duty of living solely for God, and of counting 
all things but loss for him. If such a fear exists, the 
parent ought to doubt his own sincerity in consecrating 
the child to God, yea, and his own piety ; for Christ has 
said, " He that loveth son or daughter more than me, is 
not worthy of me." 

We are not, however, to train our children merely to 
be missionaries and ministers ; all are not called to these 
offices ; nor yet are we merely to select one and train 
that for the ministry, while the rest are trained for the 
world. We are to train all to the missionary spirit and 
the missionary work ; to train all to feel that they are 
placed on earth, not to enjoy themselves only, not to ac- 
quire property and honor, not to get a livhig, but to serve 



14 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

God and do good ; that to this end all other pursuits must 
be made subservient, all needful labor and self-denial en- 
dured. We need men like Harlan Page among laymen, 
as much as men like Payson and Martyn among minis- 
ters and missionaries. There are a few in almost every 
church w^ho, when removed, are missed and mourned by 
the whole church, scarcely knowing how to get along with- 
out their efforts or their prayers. But there are too many 
who can easily be spared. Parents should aim to train 
their children so to be 'pillars in the temple of God, that 
their removal shall be a manifest breach upon the church. 

2. Parents do 7iot tnake it their first object, in training 
children, to prepare them to serve God. If the conduct 
of parents is a key to their feelings, the most, even of 
those desiring the salvation of their children, make their 
temporal welfare the first object, the salvation of their 
souls secondary, while the object of fitting them for emi- 
nent usefulness is sunk almost out of sight. In selecting 
their places of education, their trades and professions, 
their places of settlement, parents usually regard chiefly, if 
not solely, the temporal welfare of their children. Not 
only the child's usefulness and his conversion, but even 
his moral character is often made wholly secondary to 
the regard to worldly advantage. The maxims on which 
parents educate their children are the maxims of the 
world : whatever their precepts, they insensibly accustom 
them to be influenced primarily by regard to worldly ac- 
quisitions, to worldly honor and popularity. Truth com- 
pels the declaration, that worldly advantage is the first ob- 
ject for which the majority of parents train their children; 
if not first on their lips, it is first in their thoughts and 
first in their plans. Truth equally demands the declara- 
tion, that he who educates his child on these principles 
is recreant to his Maker, false to his trust, faithless to his 
child, regardless of his vows and his duty to the world. 

The first duty of a parent to his child is to train it as 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 15 

an immortal being. Let the whole world cry shame on 
the parent who has received from God an immortal being 
helpless and ignorant, and abuses his superior knowledge, 
abuses his office of teacher and the trust reposed in him 
by his unsuspecting child, to make it lose the crown of 
glory which it might win, to train it to seek its portion 
in this life of vanity, to leave it untaught as to the glorious 
service of God. 

The fundamental principle of christian education is, 
" Seek ye first the kingdom of God." In all the parent's 
plans and wishes for the child from infancy to manhood, 
he must seek first the advancement of Christ's kingdom ; 
he is never to swerve from that object to secure to him- 
self more enjoyment from the child, or to secure to the 
child greater worldly advantages. The guiding question 
from first to last must be, how can I do most good 
through this child 1 Said a Spartan mother, as she waited 
at the city gate, to the messenger from the army, " How 
has gone the battle]" *'Thy three sons are slain," was 
the reply. *' Sir," cried the woman, with indignation, " I 
asked not for my sons, but for my country ; How stand 
the arms of Sparta 1" With a nobler spirit let every 
christian parent feel that his children belong to Christ ; 
let his first solicitude be that they do their duty to him 
in upholding and promoting his cause. 
. To secure this object should elicit the strongest desires 
which the parent ever feels for his child. Mark the emo- 
tions of that parent whose child is very sick ; mark the 
anxiety of that parent whose child is just entering a new 
business, or commencing active life for himself It is infi- 
del, it is heathenish to feel less for the safety of the soul 
than of the body ; less for the child's faithfulness and suc- 
cess in serving God than in serving the world. If parents 
would train their children to convert the world, the object 
must be imbedded in the centre of their hearts. Then 
will their feelings and prayers be like what Jeremiah en- 



16 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

joins on parents amid the distress of Jerusalem, " Arise, 
cry out in the night ; in the beginning of the watches pour 
out thy heart like water before the Lord; lift up thine 
hands toward him for the life of thy young children." 

After all that has been done for missions, .the church 
seems yet scarcely awake to the reality and grandeur of 
her duty; she has not yet grasped her new responsi- 
bilities and relations, nor become really conscious that on 
her is actually devolving the conversion of the world. In 
the midst of a new era she is clinging to the habits of for- 
mer times ; as if an army should bring the quiver and the 
bow into the fields of modern warfare. Let the disciples 
of Christ awake to the sublimity of their position ; let them 
understand that they are not private men and women 
only, buried- in the retirement of the country or the 
crowds of the city, delving life away solely in their own 
petty concerns, and stretching their thoughts no farther 
than the street on which they live ; let them understand 
that " the Lord hath given a banner to them that fear him, 
that they may display it for the truth ;" that the banner 
is in their hands, and they must give account why it floats 
not over the nations ; let them feel that they live in a 
period in which every individual of the church must be 
able to say with the apostle, "For me to live is Christ;" 
then will they feel that their children, the dearest of 
earthly treasures, belong to God, and it will be their first 
desire that they may live to promote his cause. 

3. The conduct of parents and teachers contradicts their 
instructions. It may not, perhaps, be too much to say 
that the present system of education, as a whole, is in 
contradiction to the professed object of the church in 
training her children. Religion should be the foundation 
and the evident end of all instruction; but it is intro- 
duced into schools mostly as an appendage, and even that 
introduction is contested. Education ought to be the 
handmaid of religion ; we regard it as a triumph if reli- 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 17 

gion is permitted to be the handmaid of education. Re- 
ligion should be the foundation of the whole system, and 
we scarcely succeed in bringing it in as a cornice or a 
moulding. And is this educating children for the conver- 
sion of the world] Can children believe that to advance 
Christ's cause is the one business of life, while day after 
day and year after year they are toiling in pursuit of an 
education in which religion never appears as the origin 
and end of all their efforts 1 Can they believe that this is 
a preparation for a life to be wholly devoted to spread- 
ing the Gospel and doing good 1 The great business of 
a child for years is usually going to school ; and if the re- 
lio-ious influence of the school be confined to readino;' the 
Scriptures once a day, how can the child avoid the con- 
clusion that religion has little to do with the main busi- 
ness of life ; that it may be crowded into corners and yet 
receive its full share of attention 1 The subject is one of 
difficulty, but one which demands the consideration of the 
church. If christians ought to educate their children for 
the conversion of the world, the whole system of education 
should be such as not to belie the professions and teach- 
ings of the parent, such that in all its practical operations 
from day to day the child may feel an influence, speaking 
louder than words, that he is not his own, but is trained 
for Christ. The histoiy of one large school may be cited, 
the cherished object of whose Principal is to train the pu- 
pils for usefulness in the church, in which, with the most 
successful pursuit of study, the most animating religious 
results have been exhibited. Of the eight years of its ex- 
istence, four have been years of revivals, in one of which 
all, and in the other three of which nearly all, of the pu- 
pils who entered without religion became hopefully pi- 
ous ; no year since the first has passed without numerous 
conversions ; and elevated purposes and habits of benevo- 
lence have been formed. It may be added, to our re- 
proach, that Mohammedans and the heathen educate their 
VOL. xn. 6 



18 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

children, if at all, entirely on the basis of their religion. 
The parent may contradict his own instructions by fit- 
fulness in religion, at one time burning with zeal for his 
children's salvation, at another buried in worldliness ; he 
may do it by formality in family worship, by secular con- 
versation and by sloth on the Sabbath, by absence for 
slight causes from the sanctuary and the place of social 
worship, by conformity to worldly maxims and fashions, 
by anger and revenge ; he may do it by worldliness, by 
accumulating his gains on the principles of selfishness and 
never denying himself to secure the means of giving to 
the Lord ; he may do it by excusing himself from contri- 
buting to the spread of the Gospel in order to lay up pro- 
perty for his children to inherit. Let it be understood that 
children are not educated merely or chiefly by set admo- 
nition and instruction ; there may even be too much 
religious exhortation, producing weariness and disgust. 
They are educated by the exhibitions of feeling which 
they witness, by the conduct of their superiors, by the 
conversation which they overhear, and by the varied 
incidents on which instruction may be grafted. The 
child is never out of school ; every day his education ad- 
vances ; and if the every day operations of the school and 
of the family teach worldliness, whatever the instruction 
of the lips, the child will learn the lesson of the conduct. 
The child, therefore, cannot be trained for the conversion 
of the world, unless the conduct as well as the lips of the 
parent habitually proclaim, " Seek ye first the kingdom 
of God." But it is impossible for the parent to make it ap- 
jyear to tlie child that it is his first purpose to train the 
child for God, unless it really is so. Hence the grand de- 
ficiency in the way of training children for the conversion 
of the world is the deficiency of parental piety. To train 
children to live not for themselves but for others, to prac- 
tise self-denial, to devote all with supreme devotedness 
to God, demands the same character of the parent, a heart 



THE CONVEKSION OF THE WORLD. 19 

full of love, an untiring watchfulness and diligence, and a 
'life of holy obedience and humble prayer. 

4. Parents do not begin to train their childre7i for 
the coni'crsion of the world early enough. They often do 
not expect their conversion till they are ten, or twelve 
years old. Previous to that time their efforts and prayers 
are all prospective. But it is evident children may be con- 
verted at a very tender age. President Edwards describe^i 
the conversion of a girl four yetirs old, who adorned the 
christian profession during a long life. Mrs. Huntington 
records that she distinctly recollects deliberating, at the 
age of three years, whether she would give her heart to 
God then or defer it, and deciding to defer it. In respect 
to their very infants, parents should feel that 7ww is the 
accepted time, and their prayers should be for their imme- 
diate conversion. The missionary Williams relates that 
the mothers in the South Sea Islands, even before a child 
was born, used to go to the temples with the requisite of- 
ferings, where the priest performed the ceremony of in- 
fusing "the spirit of the god" into the child. After its 
birth the same rite was repeated. The same writer tells 
us that the mothers in New Zealand used to thrust little 
gravel stones down the throats of their children to give 
them hard hearts and to make them dauntless warrio'rs. 
Would that christian parents were in earnest that their 
children should be filled from their birth with the Spirit of 
Jehovah and their stony hearts made soft in regeneration. 

The church demands the early conversion of children as 
essential to her progress, that long indulgence may not 
give to sin strength to hamper through life the renewed 
man's efforts to do good, and compel him to expend in 
combating overgrown sinful propensities the strength 
which is needed for the service of Christ ; the church de- 
mands it, that, by long discipline, the young may be train- 
ed as veterans .in the army of the Lord. If we expect the 
Spirit to renew hearts hardened by half a lifetime of sin. 



20 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

why not much more the heart that is in the tenderness of 
childhood] Why must men spend twenty or thirty years 
in pulling down the church before they begin to build it 
up 1 What but the too successful delusions of the adversa- 
ry thus secures to him the services of the young for years 
before they begin to serve Christ, gains a vantage ground 
for sin in their hearts which will embarrass all their future 
efforts to do good, and persuades the church to believe 
that it cannot be otherwise ] Let parents feel as Hannah 
felt, that every child is a gift from the Lord, and desire, as 
she did, to " give him to the Lord all the days of his life." 
5, Parents and teachers Jail to make children acquainted 
with the wants of the world ajid the operations of missions. 
The whole of history should be studied in the light of the 
grand scheme of redemption, as showing in all the revo- 
lutions of the nations the hand of God overturning, over- 
turning, overturning in order to establish the kingdom 
of Christ. Fully to accomplish this end, all history would 
need to be rewritten ; for from the writings of the most 
of historians the scholar learns nothing of the relation of 
all events to God's grand design of establishing the Me- 
diatorial kingdom. The present condition of the world 
should be studied as to its miseries, its wickedness, and 
its need of the Gospel. The efforts of christians to spread 
the Gospel, the obstacles, the success, the present condi- 
tion of missions should be familiar to the youthful mind. 
This knowledge is as essential to an education for the con- 
version of the world, as a knowledge of arithmetic ; and 
yet it is knowledge which both parents and teachers in 
the church are, to a lamentable extent, unable to impart, 
because, although it lies within the reach of all, they have 
never been interested themselves to learn. A single sign 
of this deficiency may be found in the fact that few of the 
children of the church are usually found at the monthly 
concert. Question them on missionary subjects, and their 
ignorance will too generally show that the church is not 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 21 

training her children for the conversion of the world. 
" 6. Children arc not trained to act habitually for the 
conversion of the world. A little girl who once gave to 
the missionary cause a pair of mittens of her own knitting, 
had awakened in her heart a benevolent interest in the 
cause which nothing but her own action in its behalf 
could have excited. The heathen accustom their little 
children to act in the services of idolatry : when the car 
of Juggernaut is drawn, the hands of children seize the 
rope. Look at the following picture of a man carrying his 
offering to the idol : himself carries a fowl; his oldest son, 
six years old, carries three sweet potatoes ; his daughter, 
three years old, carries a cocoa-nut ; then follows the mo- 
ther with a brass plate full of rice, and the little infant, 
one year old, bearing a plantain in its tiny hands. So let 
christian parents train their children to act for Christ. 

But it is not enough for a child to carry his mite now 
and then to the treasury of the Lord; although many, 
even of the children of the church, are not taught to do 
that. The theory of training children for the conversion 
of the world, is that they must be taught to regard this as 
the grand object of the whole life. But if the child's own 
efforts for this object come only at rare and distant inter- 
vals, practice and theory are in collision ; if the child has 
spent all his childhood scarcely doing any thing to con- 
vert the world, how can it be expected that, all at once, 
when he becomes a man, he will live for this object and 
subordinate to it all his plans and all his powers ] Yet the 
most of children will scarcely find any thing in their daily 
pursuits to teach them, " Ye are not your own." Here is 
a radical defect ; the church is teaching her children that 
doing good will be the business of life ; she should make 
it their business now. Like Christ when, at the age of 
twelve, he said to his astonished parents, " Wist ye not 
that I must be about my Father's business 1" children 
should be L'm])loyed in doing good. Every day there 

VOL. xn. 6* 



22 TRAINING CHILDREN FOR 

should be something about their pursuits practically to 
impress the great lesson, *' Ye are not your own." 

It .is, therefore, a mistake merely to give children money 
to deposit in the contribution-box. This only makes them 
carriers of the gifts of others, like the plates which are 
circulated for the charities of a congregation. Let them 
be trained to appropriate of their own little treasures ; 
to labor for the procurement of money, or to make ar- 
ticles for the needy ; to deny themselves what they really 
value for the sake of doing good ; in a word, to have on 
foot some plan of benevolence which shall daily occupy 
their thoughts or their hands ; let what they give and what 
they do be of their own ; and let them be not forced to 
do this, bat trained so to feel for the perishing as to do it 
voluntarily and with spirit. Nor should they feel that 
giving alms is the only way of acting for the renovation 
of mankind ; let them be taught to live to do good ; to 
make it their daily object to spread all the happiness that 
is possible through the whole sphere of their influence. 
Thus, both in theory and practice, they will be taught that 
to do good is the object of life, and habituated, as their pow- 
ers and opportunities of usefulness enlarge, to feel the obli- 
gation of improving them all for the benefit of mankind. 

Christian parents, are you hoping, praying, laboring for 
the conversion of the world 1 Do your hearts thrill with 
the crowding signs of great events to come ] In your 
hands, under God, is the fulcrum on which the scale shall 
turn. On you, as instruments, rests the responsibility of 
furnishing and disciplining the soldiers of Christ, and thus 
of deciding whether victory or defeat awaits the church. 
On you rests the destiny not only of the hundreds of 
millions now living in heathenism, but of the generation 
that is crowding upon the scene of action. Be entreated 
to be faithful to your trust, and train your children to 
save the world. 



THE CONVERSION OF THE WORLD. 23 

Fo7- their sakes do it. It is a law of God's universe, " It 
is more blessed to give than to receive." Would you do 
your children good 1 forget not this inviolable law. In 
heaven love prompts all to seek the good of all, and all 
are blessed. On earth, where men are grasping rather 
than giving, is wretchedness. You cannot train your child 
to blessedness but by training it to benevolence. It has 
been said that "hell is the only thing that is always re- 
ceiving and never giving ;" but selfishness bears this 
very mark of the bottomless abyss. Trahi your child 
otherwise than to supreme benevolence, and you make 
its heart a vortex of selfishness, an all-absorbing hell. As 
well cast your child with the heathen into the Ganges, 
as plunge it in the abyss of selfishness ; as well make it 
pass through the fire to Moloch, as doom it to pass through 
the fires of covetousness and rapacity into the fire that ne- 
ver shall be quenched. 

Nor is there conceivable a nobler destiny than that 
which awaits your children, if you train them as God de- 
mands. Abraham was the father of the Jews ; in answer 
to Daniel's prayers they were liberated from Babylon ; 
Paul preached the Gospel in many nations ; Luther was 
the instrument of the Reformation ; but more honored 
than all, the generation which God shall use to convert 
the world, the generation before whose efforts God shall 
finally smite down the strong holds of irreligion through 
the earth. If we may judge of heavenly things by earth- 
ly, it would seem as if that generation must be signalized 
in heaven, while in the distant ages of eternity they shall 
point them out among the myriads of the blessed and say, 
** There is one of the generation by whom the Gospel 
triumphed through the earth." O christian parents, fail 
not to train your children for this honor — an honor sur- 
passed only by the ignominy awaiting them if they meet 
their peculiar responsibilities only to neglect them, and 
occupy the fairest opportunity of completing the triumph 



2i TRAINING CHILDREN, &c. 

of the church only to make shipwreck of her hopes. 

Let the woes and sins of the world urge you to train your 
children to save it. Can you endure the thought that 
another whole generation of heathen shall march in slow 
procession across the stage of life, and plunge .unwaraed 
and unenlightened into the abyss ] Yet so it must be if 
the young be not trained to save them. The destiny of 
the world hangs on the children of the church. 

For your own sakes, train your children for Christ. 
God has intrusted them to you as a precious talent ; you 
have consecrated them to him and vowed to train them 
for his service. How will you stand in the judgment, if 
you have received a child in trust from God, and are train- 
ing it for the world, training God's child for the world, 
sacrificing one of Christ's little ones to the devil, fitting 
God's child for perdition ] 

For God's sake, train your children for Him. They 
belong to God. You have no right to train them for 
aught but his service. What if you succeed in training 
them to the most successful pursuit of wealth and honor, 
you are robbing God. All the capacity and power, the 
shining ability and successful enterprise which your train- 
ing has elicited for the world, all is stolen from God ; it 
is all due to building up his cause. Christian parent, do 
you love the God who made you 1 — the Savior who re- 
deemed you % — the church to which you have consecrated 
your all ] How then can you fail to train solely for that 
God, that Savior, that church, the children God has given 
you % Hear the voice of the Redeemer; he calls you each 
by name, ** Lovest thou me V Does your soul answer, 
*' Yea, Lord !" — then heed your Savior's message, ** Feed 
my lambs." 



A piemiuin of $50, offered by a benevolent christian, was awarded to 
the author of this Tract. 



nro. 480. 

PRAYER FOR COLLEGES 

AND 

LITERARY AND PROFESSIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



The number of colleges in the United States exceeds 
one hundred, and the number of their students exceeds ten 
thousand. Besides, there are more than seventy institutions 
of theology, law, and medicine, with upwards of five thou- 
sand students. Add to these, 164,159 pupils, of both sexes, 
in 3,242 academies and grammar-schools, as reported in the 
census for 1840, together with the instructors in all the in- 
stitutions mentioned, and we have an aggregate of the taught 
and teachers amounting to not far from two hundred thou- 
sand. 

With these facts before us, our appeal is to Christians of 
all denominations, on the duty and importance of prayer for 
the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit upon our literary 
and professional seminaries. Christian, fix your eye upon 
them ; consider their number, their location at points of in- 
fluence all over the land ; the number of immortal minds in 
them, and the powerful minds acting upon them in the work 
of instruction. What shall our young men do in future years 
to save souls or destroy them, to honor or to tlishonor God 
who made them ? What shall be their eternity ; blissful 
among the redeemed, or wretched among the lost ? They 
are soon to act upon the m creasing millions of minds in our 
country. Few of them, probably, are yet prepared by divine 
grace to exert influence for good. Is not this then a subject 
to drive the Christian into his closet, and to keep him long 
and earnestly wi'estUng with " the angel of the covenant," 
on behalf of these sons of learning ? Without the presence 
and power of the Holy Spirit, unconverted students are never 
renewed ; Christian students are not spiritually prosperous. 
Is it not then a duty to implore His blessed and mighty influ- 
ence upon our seminaries of learning ? 



2 PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 

The scene has been presented in several past years, of 
many of the churches of our country assembled around " the 
throne of grace," to pray for the visits of the Spirit to these 
seminaries. The reasons for " continuing instant in prayef " 
for them, abide in full force. Let it be considered by every 
Christian, that they stand closely connected with the pros- 
perity or the declension of Zion ; that the subjects of prayer, 
impressed by the Holy Spirit on the minds of Christians, 
cannot be guiltlessly neglected ; and that Christians must 
act on that direction of the word, " pray for all men," in its 
application to those who are in a course of education. Let 
it be remembered how God has heretofore shown himself 
ready to bless, in granting his Holy Spirit in a remarkable 
manner upon our seminaries ; especially that in one year — 
a year of college revivals peculiarly — fourteen of these insti- 
tutions were thus graciously visited. 

Let an argument also be drawn from the scenes of col- 
lege revivals, of the intense interest of which none know so 
well as those who have lived among them. Thoughtful 
solemnity has been visible in the countenance of many a 
young man. The conflicts of rivalry and ambition have 
been repressed ; the revels of dissipation, the taugh of 
thoughtless mirth and gayety, and the scofis of youthful 
unbelief silenced. The chapel has been the place of " prayer 
ardent, opening heaven ;" the recitation-room a scene of seri- 
ousness ; the students' walk a season for tender and anxious 
thought, for conversation with some associate on eternal 
things, perhaps for sweet communion on the Christian hope. 
Christian instructors and students have seen young men be- 
come inquirers, of whom they had scarce dared to hope for 
such things ; have heard from lips accustomed to ribaldry, 
jesting, profaneness, the inquiry, " What must I do to be 
saved?" have witnessed with wonder and delight the sol- 
emn stillness pervading the college prayer-meeting and con- 
ference, and rejoiced with " the angels of God" over many a 
young student repenting. The seasons of sacramental com- 
munion have been rendered interesting and tender by young 
men of talent, scholarship, promise, confessing Christ before 
men, and taking upon them vows of consecration to his ser- 
vice ; while, with tears of gratitude and sacred joy. Chris- 
tians have exclaimed, " What hath God wrought !" Inter- 
esting as are the scenes of revival in a congregation, sur- 



PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 3 

passingly so are revival scenes within the walls of college, 
when " the Lord is there." 

Additional to these motives of appeal to Christians on 
this subject, there are some which we would press more 
especially. 

I. Revivals of religion in our seminaries of learning, 
bring many young men to consecrate their talents and at- 
tainments to the service and glory of Christ. The con- 
verted student has found the truth that he is " not his own," 
but "bought with a price;" and that he is bound to "live 
no more unto himself," but " unto Him who died for him 
and rose again." What more delightful spectacle than to 
see the educated yomig man coming forward to lay all his 
attainments at the feet of Christ Jesus his Lord ; and 
whether in the Christian ministry or any other profession, 
acting on that instruction, " Glorify God in your body and 
your spirit, which are God's." In contrast with this, can 
there be a more melancholy sight than that of unconsecrated, 
perverted, abused, Avasted talents and education ; poisoned 
perhaps by religious error or infidelity, debased by vice, or 
disgraced by indolence and uselessness ? Whatever may be 
his profession, the opinions, habits, and example of the man 
of liberal education, will be felt by men around him. In- 
difference to religion and decent and respectable impenitence, 
or unbelief and rejection of the truth, will either of them in- 
sure liim followers, imitators, and company in the way to 
destruction. But if, while in his course of education, he has 
entered on the Christian life — if he goes up into successive 
positions of public influence with " the love of God" in his 
heart, "the Spirit of Christ" in him, a man of prayer, of 
living faith, of decided Christian example, he will be, in his 
influence as a Christian upon his fellow-men, an unspeaka- 
ble blessing. The great day of the revelation of secret things 
alone can declare all the good he will have done. 

II. The literary and ijrofessional histitutions of our 
country furnish the great iiroportion of men for the various 
stations of resiionsihility and usefulness. 

1 . The Christian ministry is one of these. They who, 
as in the sacred office, will lead immortal men to heaven or 
to hell, are in these seminaries. Is an irreligious man fit 
for the holy ministry ? Can talents, learning, morality, 
amiableness of social character, fit anv one for such a work? 



4 PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 

Who feels safe in committing himself to the guidance of such 
a one as a religious teacher ? Who can be willing to seat 
his family, Sabbath after Sabbath, for years, before a pulpit 
where an unconverted man, in the pride of talent, and per- 
haps in the flippancy of unbelief, delivers the maxims of a 
heartless morality, or the sickening sentimentalism of sober 
ungodliness, or the announcements of " damnable heresy ?" 
What considerate man, even without religion in his own 
heart, can be v/illing to see clerical ordinations only the put- 
ting of men into the office of the ministry that they may 
" eat a piece of bread ;" the laying of ordaining hands on 
ungodly heads ; and thus what should be a devout religious 
solemnity turned to be the profane setting apart of men to 
the solemn service of the devil, as " blind leaders of the 
blind ?" That this may not be so, we must pray that the 
grace of God may preside over the minds of our young men 
in the seats of science when they make choice of their pro- 
fessions, and that such may be the tone of piety, and such the 
prevalent views of obligation to God, that no young man shall 
trust himself a moment to think of the ministry as his pro- 
fession, except he have evidence to believe himself a Chris- 
tian, and is conscious of "desiring the office of a bishop" 
from love to God and to the souls of men. " Good ministers 
of Jesus Christ" are unspeakable blessings to the church and 
the world. Ungodly ministers are a curse to both. And 
that institution, whether literary or professional, in which 
unconverted young men are countenanced in their entrance 
into the ministry, cannot be other than a place on which the 
eye of God is fixed in righteous indignation. 

2. Serious and devoted piety is needful to the man in the 
legal profession, to make his influence salutary upon men 
around him. He has intercourse with men of all classes in 
society. If indifierent or unfriendly to religion and the doc- 
trines of " the cross," no man can oppose them in the circles 
of the legal profession more successlully than he. A great 
man upon the bench, with aversion in his heart to the fun- 
damental articles of the Christian faith, in his social inter- 
course with lawyers, has it in his power to enlist strong 
minds against " the faith of Christ" to an extent most fear- 
Ihl. A great man, on the other hand, who has learned in 
his early life and studies to reverence and love the religion 
of the Gospel and its truths, and to practise and honor its 



PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 5 

precepts, can do an amount of good to his brethren of the 
profession, in which the minister of the Gospel himself may 
not surpass him. 

3. Personal religion is a most desirable qualification in 
the inliyucian. His intercourse is with the rich and the poor, 
the high and the low, the learned and the ignorant, and with 
people at all periods in life, and this too at times and under 
circumstances when he has some of the best possible advan- 
tages for doing good to their immortal spirits. The physician 
who thinks of the sin-diseased soul as well as the frail body 
of his patient ; who enters the sick room with a prayerful 
spirit ; who commends his professional work habitually to 
the blessing of the great Physician ; who can sympathize 
with the sufferer under his care, not only as in one sense a 
creature of a day, but in another sense a being of eternity : 
a physician who, as a Christian, can " rejoice with them that 
do rejoice," and " weep with them that weep ;" such a phy- 
sician is an inestimable gift of Providence to a community. 
AYhat a contrast to such a one is he who never lifts a prayer 
to God for his patients ; who forgets their immortal spirits 
and all their interests in eternity, and who, perhaps, unites 
with professional skill and general morality and respectability 
of character, the dangerous faith of false doctrines, or the 
gloomy scepticism of infidelity. 

4. The Christian excellence which has sometimes been 
manifest in men of official and 2'>olitical stations in our coun- 
try, has done something to make us desire that more such 
men may be found. It ought not to be asked that every 
young man who becomes a subject of divine grace shall of 
course be a preacher of the Gospel. A prosperous religious 
condition of our seminaries Avould prepare the way for our 
being blessed with Christian legislators, judges, and rulers. 
Dangers beset public men at every step, against which there 
is no adequate protection but the grace of God in their hearts. 
Their dependence on popular favor, and the temptations un- 
der which they are, amidst the conflicts of parties and the 
excitements of competition and ambition, render them liable 
often to do wrong from " fear of man," when they should do 
right in " the fear of God." Religion in the heart alone can 
prepare them to carry into official stations a living and seri- 
ous consciousness of responsibility to God ; and whether in 
the work of legislation or of administration, to maintain a 

VOL. XII. 7 



e PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 

sacred regard for the decisions of the statute-book of the 
Lord Jehovah. 

o. The iirofesiuon of teaching in the various departments 
of science is one of high importance, and needs to be sancti- 
fied by rehgion in those who engage in it. Men of hterary 
eminence and enterprise, loving rehgion, and " hving accord- 
ing to God in the spirit," are inestimable blessings to our 
country. They commend things heavenly and divine to their 
pupils. They set them the example of the devotion of tal- 
ents and learning to the service and honor of God ; they 
teach how to bring the resources of science to aid in spread- 
ing the knowledge of God in the earth. Without accompa- 
nying grace in teachers, education is liable to become the 
handmaid of error, and painfully efficient in poisoning our 
fountains of learning. The spirit and habits of our literary 
men may become deadening to the interests of religion — cold, 
speculative, proud, adventurous, sceptical, demoralizing. 
Woe to the religious interests of our country, when the spirit 
of unsanctified literature in our faculties of instruction shall 
have ascendency over the spirit of piety. The supplications 
of the people oi" God must obtain the interposition of divine 
grace to prevent this. 

6. Other stations, generally filled from the ranks of edu- 
cated men, and in which grace is desirable to sanctify talents 
and learning, we have room only to mention. The editor, 
the professional author, the artist and man of practical sci- 
ence, the agent of Christian benevolence, the trustee and 
visitor of a literary institution, the traveller upon enterprises 
of literary and scientific research ; in short, the man of edu- 
cation, wherever he may be placed, needs to have the grace 
of God in his heart. He can everywhere nobly help or dis- 
astrously hinder the progress of Christian truth and the sal- 
vation of men. Earnestly to be desired is it, that the men in 
all the walks of literary life may " walk with God ;" that 
their spirits may commune with the Holy Spirit ; that they 
may have it in their hearts as faithfully to watch for the 
souls of men as for the advancement of their minds in know- 
ledge ; and that they themselves may be educated, not only 
for the employments of "the life that now is," but for the 
service of God in a blessed eternity. 

If, then, our academies, colleges, and professional semi- 
naries are to furnish men for all these stations and employ- 



PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 7 

ments, what fountains of good or evil they are to be to the 
church and to the world. With what constancy should the 
Christian keep his eye on them, and carry them on his heart 
when he goes to the throne of grace. In what faith should 
he commend them to the Spirit of truth and grace for his 
guardianship and his sanctifying influences. 

III. We have another argument on this subject, as it 
involves the qnritual prosperity of pious young men in a 
course of educatimi. Christian students are not safe from 
the danger of spiritual decline while in the pursuits of learn- 
ing. Not even the theological seminary, where the studies 
have direct reference to preparation to preach the Gospel, is 
certain to be the place of the spiritual thrift of souls. The 
spirit .of sacred literature even may outstrip the spirit of piety, 
because study is pursued as an intellectual affair simply. 
Christians should know that the dangers of spiritual declen- 
sion are as great in a theological seminary, as in a church or 
any other body of religious men. The Christian student, in 
the college or the professional seminary, may suffer as much 
as any other Christian, from religious languor, from spiritual 
darkness, perplexity, doubts concerning his good estate ; may 
live with very slender comfort ; go trembling through his 
collegiate course, and through his professional course, and 
may even go into the ministry in a state of spiritual lassi- 
tude, and consequently do his work under the disadvantages 
of much abridgment of his comfort and of the energy and 
decision of his Christian example. Christian, pray for the 
residence of the Holy Spirit in our seminaries, for the sake 
of the spiritual prosperity and enjoyment of your yomig 
brethren in Christ there ; and that, as prosperous Christians, 
they may exert the better influence upon their associates in 
study, and be gathering spiritual strength for the duties 
which will devolve upon them in professional life. 

IV. One more argument on this important subject we 
draw from the ivants of both the church and the world. 
Twenty thousand ministers of the Gospel are needed at this 
moment for our own country. To prosecute the great enter- 
prises of Christian benevolence in unevangelized lands, su- 
peradded thousands and tens of thousands are wanted. From 
the north and the south, from the east and the west comes 
the cry of dying men for " the bread of life " and " the waters 
of salvation." Men of education and talent, without grace, 



8 PRAYER FOR COLLEGES. 

will not hear, feel, and answer these appeals for help. Look, 
Christian, at the low and alarming state of religion in almost 
every college and other seminary in our country, and ask 
Avhence are to come the men who will consecrate themselves, 
whether at home or abroad, to the world's conversion, in the 
labors of missionary love. While we faint in prayer, the 
work of spiritual destruction keeps on among men, with all 
the efficiency which can be given it by the* energy of sin, and 
the untiring activity of the adversary of souls. "It is high 
time to awake out of sleep." God has heard prayer for our 
seminaries in other years, and rich have been the bestow- 
ments of his grace. Still will he hear, " if we call upon him." 
Let us think day and night of the institutions of learning 
with which our country is dotted, of the spiritual declension 
which reigns in them, of the two hundred thousand immor- 
tal minds in them, or presiding over them, all needing either 
the converting or the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit. 
Not alone for these either, but for the institutions of learning 
throughout the whole Christian world, the hope of the church 
and of j)erishing men, " let us lift up our hearts with our 
hands unto God in the heavens," to Zion's King, " who alone 
doeth wondrous things." 

Many have observed the last Thursday in February as 
an annual season of prayer for our seminaries ; but. Chris- 
tian, do not wait for that day before you awake to this duty. 
" The concert for colleges" should last the year round,. in the 
closets, the families, the assemblies of Christians for prayer. 
For it is written of all the subjects of prayer, and this among 
them, " Prmj ivithout ceamig^r " Pray without ceasing." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. 481. 

WHY ARE YOU NOT A CHRISTIAN ? 



1 . It is not, that to be a Christian is no2yrivilege. "God- 
liness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life 
that now is, and of that which is to come." Piety accords 
with the great laws, and design, and necessities of our be- 
ing. The Christian graces embody a compliance with duty 
and the will of God, demanded by reason, satisfying to con- 
science, and giving a peace unknown before. It is a privi- 
lege to receive forgiveness of sins, to inherit the promises, to 
possess the spirit of adoption, to share the covenant protec- 
tion of God in life, to catch sweet foretastes of heavenly 
bliss in the midst of earthly trials, to have a hope that sur- 
vives the grave, and when we die, to be admitted to the rest 
that remaineth for the people of God. Why then are you 
not a Christian ? 

2. It is not, that you are not at liberty to be a Christian. 
In the atonement of Christ, and the gift of the Holy Spirit, 
are found all the riches of grace that the wants of your 
soul can require. You are not obliged to continue in sin, 
and live estranged from God. No law of God or of his 
providence constrains you to remain in disobedience and 
under the condemnation of sin. No framework of 'your 
being shuts you out from the privilege of repentance and 
reconciliation to God. You were made to love and serve 
him, and the lamentation is, that you have declined his 
service so long, and are impenitent and unpardoned now. 

Think you that you are forbidden to return in penitence 
to God and the portions of his children ? Does he fence in 
the pastures of grace, that you may not enter, and refuse you 
the waters of life ? Does he close against you the avenue 
to his favor and kingdom, and doom you to a life of sin, a 
death of despair, and an eternity of woe ? May you not 
repent, trust in his grace, and be pardoned and saved ? 
Yes, yes, you may. We utterly mistake his character, and 
word, and the laws of our being, to think otherwise. Rest 
assured that no bar is across the pathway of your return to 
God, no impediment from the throne interposes. You may 

VOL. XII. 7* 



2 WHY ARE YOU NOT A CHRISTIAN ? 

admit the full pressure of your sins and necessities, urging 
you to seek delivering grace. Under the deepest conviction 
of the guilt and hopeless wretchedness of a state of disobe- 
dience, you may know that the way is open to the mercy- 
seat, and that the redemption which is in Christ awaits your 
coming to it. You need not live in exile from the city of 
God. You are under no necessity of continuing an alien 
and a stranger to the kingdom of grace. You are not obliged 
to bow down your back alway under sin, and be left to its 
poor inheritances in this life, and its bitter wailings in the 
next. Another course lies open to you. Other auspices 
offer themselves in your behalf Other voices crowd on 
your ear ; and it only abuses the principles of your moral 
being, and wrongs the sources of help around you, to re- 
main unpardoned in your sin, and fail of the grace of God. 
Why then are you not a Christian ? 

3. It is not, that you ought not to he one. Duty and 
privilege unite in saying this. Conscience is on the side of 
religion. It would have you be what God and duty require, 
and its voice you ought to obey. Its approbation you have 
not now, and if you hold out in impenitence till probation 
closes, it will be to you the worm that never dies. You are 
waging an unnatural war on this great principle of your being, 
while you remain in disobedience to God, and doing violence 
to its most solemn dictates. You know that you ought not 
to obey sinful lusts, and let them urge you on against the 
remonstrances of wisdom, and plunge you in despair. Duty 
is clear, obligation pressing ; truth, like sunlight on the way 
of your return to God. Why then are you not a Christian ? 

4. It is not, that you have not need to be one. Have 
you never sinned ? Are you in yourself perfect before God, 
like the angels ? Are you excepted from the common apos- 
tasy of our race, from its guilt and condemnation under law, 
and its dependence on the grace of God to justify and save ? 
Are you not, on the other hand, conscious of sin, and of the 
Avants of one who is without righteousness, and needs pro- 
pitiation ? Can you hope for the favor of God, except 
through forgiveness and looking to Jesus, that only "name 
under heaven given among men, whereby we can be saved ?" 
If our oAvn heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, 
and knoweth all things. The short-comings of your life, 
and the wanderings of your heart from rectitude, every se- 



WHY ARE VUU NOT A CHRISTIAN ? 3 

cret sin or open iniquity, all unhallowed desire and forbidden 
lusts, all impiety towards God or wrong against your fellow- 
men, incur the penalty of law, and show how much you 
need forgiveness. They shut you up to the remedy of grace. 
They point to Calvary. They plead for atoning blood, and 
poise the question of your eternal life on the issue of your 
fleeing for refuge to the hope set before you in the Gospel. 
God has no other way of saving sinners : failing of this, you 
must meet the penalties of law. They lie directly before 
you, and unless you retrace your steps, and gain shelter in 
Christ, the universe camiot save you from the perdition of 
ungodly men. Why then are you not a Christian ? 

5. It is not, that all good beings tcould not have you he 
one. Their sympathies and counsels lie along the pathway 
of your return to God. All on earth who have tasted the 
sweetness of forgiving love, would beckon you to the foun- 
tain of mercy in the Gospel, saying, " Come thou with us, 
and we will do thee good." Angels in heaven unite in this 
harmony of the good to gain you. They are ministering 
spirits sent forth to this intent. They seek after you, as the 
shepherd his "sheep which is lost." " Verily I say unto 
you, there is joy in heaven, in the presence of the angels of 
God, over one sinner that repenteth." Or would you listen 
to the entreaties of the throne itself, as they break in mercy 
over you, and call you from the ways of sin ? " As I live," 
saith God, " I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, 
but that he turn from his wicked way, and live." So the 
Son, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest ;" and the Holy Ghost saith, " To- 
day, if you will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." 
"Why then not a Christian ? 

In the name of truth, righteousness, heaven's mercy, and 
the urgent necessities of your case, ivhij not ? What hin- 
ders ? what obstacle lies in the way ? what is the Achan 
of trouble in the camp ? what the fell destroyer that with- 
holds your voluntary submission to God, and prolongs your 
alliance with sin and the second death ? 

Whatever it is, it can have no good foundation, no justi- 
fying principle. Whether it rises out of the obliquities of 
your own heart, or from malignant influences around you, 
its complexion is the same. It is an enemy still, by what- 
ever arts it beguiles and deceives. It is unworthy of you. 



4 WHY ARE YOU NOT A CHRISTIAN ? 

It belies reason, wounds conscience, resists tlie Spirit of God, 
and betrays the peace of the soul. You ought not to be 
in subjection to it, "no, not for an hour" or a moment. It 
is from the kingdom of darkness ; its nature is disobedience, 
its work perfected is woe. Why, then, yield to it ? That 
you have hitherto, is your sin. Corrupt lusts, or- influences 
from this world, or from the pit, are not meet to be the 
guides of the immortal mind. They do but " drown men's 
souls in destruction and perdition," and you have many 
helps to break away from them. 

All good influences in the universe are in correspondence 
with the legitimate principles of your own being, to throw 
off the empire of sin, and bring you benignly into the liberty 
of the Gospel. Truth pleads, reason accords, conscience 
prompts, the Spirit of God strives with you, and all good 
beings in heaven and on earth are ready to welcome you to 
the mercy-seat ; and why " yield yourself the servant of 
sin mito death," and not "of righteousness unto everlasting 
life?" "The Spirit and the bride say. Come;" and why 
not come ? " Behold, I stand at the door and knock," says 
the benevolent Saviour ; and why not " open the door," and 
let him come in ? Even the throbbings of your own spirit 
demand this of you, and put in the constraining plea of the 
" soul immortal," to be at peace with its God. 

And shall these conspiring influences, and this plea 
avail ? Are they the voice of God to you, and do you say, 
it is enough ? Are the repentings of your heart enkindled, 
and do you get strength to give up the controversy, and sub- 
mit to God ? As one come to himself, do you suri'ender to 
truth, to conscience, and the Spirit of all grace, and as a 
lost sinner, do you look to the Lamb of God which taketh 
away sin, and in penitence and submission of soul, do you 
believe upon him ? Here lie the promises, and doing this, 
they are yours. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 48^. 



THE 



HIDING-PLACE. 



"VYe want a hiding-place from ca?-e and trouble. There 
are times of trial, days of adversity, through which we must 
all pass. If we may not hope to escape scenes of trial, it 
is a great thing to be assured of support while passing 
through them. God is known in the palaces of Zion as a 
refuge at such times. He has said, " As thy daj^s, so shall 
thy strength be." His people have felt their need of a 
hiding-place in the dark and cloudy day of adversity, when 
the waves of trouble have rolled in upon them. 

We need a hiding-place from the ayiger of God. It is 
the testimony of Scripture, that " God is angry with the 
wicked every day ;" and he declares, " Ye have kindled a 
fire in mine anger, which shall burn for ever." Jer. 17 : 4. 
And again, " A fire is kindled in mine anger, and shall burn 
unto the lowest hell." Deut. 32 : 22. If there be any 
truth in Scripture, the sinner has reason to fear the dis- 
pleasure of God. There is a day coming when " upon .the 
wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and a horri- 
ble tempest : this shall be the portion of their cup." Psa. 
11 : 6. From this tempest the sinner needs a covert — a 
hiding-place from Jehovah's anger. 

We need a hiding-place from conscience. This is in- 
separable from the sinner's self It will go with him where 
he goes, and remain with him where he remains, and make 
him miserable. True, in this world it may be quieted ; it 
may be lulled to sleep ; it may be seared ; but it is not dead, 
it only sleepeth. The time will come when it will awake, 
and then it will bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder. 
The reproaches of others we may endure ; but who can bear 
the reproaches of himself, and that for ever ? 

We need a hiding-place from hell. That is, sin, con- 
science, and the wrath of God combined, and enduring for 



2 THE HIDING-PLACE. 

ever. To it every impenitent sinner is exposed; for "these 
shall g-o away into everlasting punishment." Matt. 25 : 46. 
It is clear, then, that we need a hiding-place. We are 
sensible of our need. We know our exposure ; and there 
are times when we feel it, and when, perhaps, we are dis- 
posed to inquire for a place of safety. Is there, then, a 
place to which we may flee and be safe ? Yes, 

JESUS CHRIST IS OUR HIDING-PLACE. 

He is our hiding-place in times of trouble. Though per- 
secuted, we are not forsaken ; though cast down, we are not 
destroyed. 2 Cor. 4:9. He hath said, " When thou passest 
through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the 
rivers, they shall not overflow thee." Isa. 43 : 2. Flee to 
this refuge, ye afflicted ones, and " He shall deliver thee in 
six troubles ; yea, in seven there shall no evil touch thee." 
Job 5 : 19. He " will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." 
Heb. 13 : 5. 

He is our hiding-place from the ivrath of God. He is 
so because he has borne that wrath for us, and we by faith 
in him are delivered from condemnation. " Being justified 
by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ." Gal. 3 : 13 ; Rom. 5 : 1, and 8 : .1. 

He is our hiding-place from the reproaches of conscience 
and from hell. He, and he alone can deliver from hell- 
torments ; and he is able and mighty to save. Says the 
Psalmist, " Thou art my hiding-place ; thou shalt preserve 
me from trouble ; thou shalt compass me about with songs 
of deliverance." Psalm 32 : 7. 

We want a hiding-place that is safe and accessible ; and 
Jesus Christ is just such as we need, and all we need. 

He is a safe hiding-place. He is possessed of all power. 
He is the infinite and eternal God, as well as man — God 
manifest in the flesh. 1 Tim. 3 : 16. All creatures, all 
elements, all worlds are under his control ; and they who 
flee to him are safe. Do troubles arise, he 

" Can make each cloud of care, 
And e'en the gloomy vale of death, 
A smile of glory wear." 

Do enemies stand up against his chosen ? " He that sitteth 
in the heavens shall laugh : the Lord shall have them in 
derision. He shall speak unto them in his wrath, and vex 



THE FIIDING-PLACE. 3 

them in his sore displeasure. He shall break them with a 
rod of iron, and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel." 
Psa. 2 : 4-9. Do their o^^n-l sins entangle, and Satan accuse, 
and conscience condemn ? In Jesus Christ they are safe ; for 
" there is now no condemnation to them which are in Christ 
Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." 
Rom. 8:1. "Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ 
that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who is even at 
the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." 
Rom. 8 : 34. Their deliverer is mighty. They trust in a 
divine Redeemer. They have taken refuge in a hiding-place 
that can never fail — a covert which no tempest can over- 
throw. His blood cleanseth from all sin. 1 John, 1:7. 

He is an accessible hiding-place. It is open to all, and 
available to all who will enter. " Him that cometh to me, 
I Avill in no wise cast out." John 6 : 37. Not only is Jesus 
Christ accessible because of his divi?iity, by which he is 
everywhere present, and ever able to succor them who flee 
to him ; but he is also accessible because of his hwnajiity, as 
it is by the possession of our nature that he is qualified to be 
our Saviour — our merciful and faithful High-priest. It is as 
a man that he is presented to us by the prophet: " A man 
shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from 
the tempest." Isa. 32 : 2. It is also written, " For there 
is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the 
man Christ Jesus ; who gave himself a ransom for all, to 
be testified in due tune." 1 Tim. 2 : 5, 6. And in anoj^her 
place, "Forasmuch then as the children are partakers ol 
flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the 
same ; that through death he might destroy him that had 
the power of death. Wherefore in all things it behoved him ' 
to be made like unto his brethren ; that he might be a mer- 
ciful and faithful High-priest in things pertaining to God, to 
make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that 
he himself hath sufiered, being tempted, he is able to succor 
them that are tempted." Heb. 2 : 14-18. "For we have 
not a high-priest which cannot be touched with the feeling 
of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we 
are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the 
throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace 
to help in time of need." Heb. 4 : 15, 16. Being a man, 
and having been tempted as a man, and having sufiered as 



4 THE HIDING-PLACE. 

a man, he knows our frame, and can sympathize with his 
people in all their trials and temptations. He can be touched 
with their infirmities, and so is peculiarly accessible to the-m. 
For the same reason he is also accessible to sinners. He 
died for sinners. He came to seek and to save the lost. 
Matt. 18 : 11. They approach a Redeemer who, while he 
is mighty, is at the same time possessed of human sympa- 
thies — the friend of sinners. Are you inquiring what you 
must do to be saved ? Look to Jesus Christ — flee to this 
hiding-place, for it is available. Jesus has a human heart 
as well as divine compassion. "The Son of man — a man 
of sorrows and acquainted with grief," is our hiding-place 
and covert. Embrace him, and you shall find rest to your 
soul ; and his rest is glorious. Matt. 11 : 28-30 ; Isa. 11 : 10. 

Jesus Christ is an eternal hiding-place. It will endure 
for ever. He ever liveth — " Jesus Christ, the same yester- 
day, to-day, and for ever." Heb. 7 : 25, and 13 : 8. They 
Avho flee hither shall never be left exposed. They trust 
in one who will shield them in every hour of. danger ; who 
Avill be their defence in every storm ; who will hide them 
in his pavilion, in the secret of his tabernacle, and take them 
to everlasting mansions. Psa. 27 : 5 ; John 14 : 2, 3. 

Jesus Christ is a hiding-place in all respects adapted to 
our ivants ; for he is both divine and human, God and man 
in one person. There is no want in our natures or circum- 
stances which is not met by his all-sufficiency. Whatever 
may be our sense of need, we may go to Jesus with full con- 
fidence of its supply and relief Poor dejected and desponding 
saint, look to this hiding-place, enter in, and be safe and happy. 
Poor, miserable, perishing sinner, look to this hiding-place, 
flee to it, and receive remission of sins, and a title to heaven. 

Dangers impend on every side. sinner, the storm 
gathers around you, and where will you look for safety, if 
not to Jesus ? And will you look to him ? why will you 
die ? Why continue exposed to the storm of wrath with a 
place of safety full in view ? Why perish when Jesus in- 
vites you to his arms ? Lift up your eyes. Behold the 
Lamb of God. See the hiding-place ; and enter ere you die. 
Ezek. 33 : 11 ; John 1 : 29 ; Heb. 4:11. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 483, 



WHY YET IMPENITENT? 



Is not an atonement made for man in sin, a fountain of 
grace opened in his behalf, and the invitation sent forth, 
" Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters ?" 

Does not impenitence incur the displeasure of God, ex- 
clude you from the joys of his presence, and from the inher- 
itance of his kingdom ? Is it not manifestly a state of sin 
and wrong, without justification or excuse, opposed alike to 
your duty to yourself, your fellow-men, and to God ? 

Are you not at full liberty to repent and be reconciled 
to God ? Have you not, indeed, many helps thereto, under 
the light of the Gospel and the riches of divine grace ? 

Would not Christians on earth and angels in heaven re- 
joice over your repentance, and the triune God welcome your 
return as the father his prodigal son, saying, " This my son 
was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found?" 
"Why then are you impenitent ? Why yet in a state of alien- 
ation from God ? What are the special occasions of this ? 
Your OA\Ti consciousness can best detect them, and are. you 
willing to inquire ? 

May it be, that you do not fairly examine the mthject oj 
religion, and come to deliberate and candid conclusions re- 
specting it ? But this is not worthy of you, or wise. The 
great facts of true religion exist independently of us ; it has 
bearings upon us, whether we willingly respond to them or 
not. Its claims cross our path, go where we will, and are 
charged with interests too deep and lasting to be neglected. 
They live to reward us or to be a swift witness against us. 
They involve our relations to God, to duty, to grace, to the 
judgment-day, and eternity. The life or death of the soul is 
the issue which religion makes, and it is unworthy of us not 
fully to investigate its claims, and form conclusions respect- 

VOL. XII. '^ 



2 WHY YET IMPENITENT ? 

ing it by which we intend to abide. Results will come, 
whether we are ready for them or not ; and the part of wis- 
dom is, to foresee the evil, and hide om'selves. 

Or is it that you resist the convictions of your own judg- 
ment on the subject of religion ? In the light of truth, and 
against the voice of reason, do you hold out in the way of 
your own heart, and refuse the mercy of the Gospel ? But 
would you deliberately do this in any other interest ? Or 
are your relations to God and the salvation of the soul the 
only point on which you will belie all your serious convic- 
tions ? To do thus, would bring ruin in any other relation, 
and you must not expect to escape it in the government of 
God. In such a course, if God is on the throne and will do 
right, you can have no hope. 

Or do you harbor some specific ivro7ig, which hinders 
you, notwithstanding your convictions, from becoming recon- 
ciled to God ? Give up, then, that wrong. Forego that 
indulgence. It will in the end "bite like a serpent, and 
sting like an adder." Break away from it, at whatever cost. 
God will make his love better to you than any form of sin 
can be. If even " thine eye offend," and lead thee into sin, 
" pluck it out, and cast it from thee. It is better for thee to 
enter into life with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast 
into hell, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
quenched." 

Or have you imbibed a prejudice against spiritual relig- 
ion ? But all rehgion, to be of any value, must be spiritual. 
Reason teaches this. What would you think of a friendship 
which is not from the heart ? Arid must we not love God 
with all the heart, and in newness of life keep his com- 
mands ? Is not this right ? Should we not yield all that 
is impure and unholy, confessing and forsaking our sins, and 
turning to the Lord in supreme afiection of soul ? Would 
you fellowship hypocrisy, and make a mock at sin ? Be- 
sides, who is he that shall harm us, if we be followers of that 
which is good ? Cannot God take care of his own children, 



WHY YET IMrEXITEXT? 3 

and cast his everlasting arms around those who fly for refuge 
to lay hold on the hope set before- them in the Gospel ? 

But is the point of your hinderance this, that you ivrong 
conscience on the subject of religion ? Through fear of the 
truth, or from any cause, are you acting the part of a traitor 
to your own deliberate convictions ? By resort to worldly 
amusements, vain company, light reading, or doctrinal error, 
are you seeking to check the serious tendencies of your own 
mind, and to turn a deaf ear to the remonstrances of that 
monitor within you ? If so, you are doing a fearful work ; 
you are laying the axe at the root of all your prospects for 
immortality. You are preparing a bed of scorpions, to fasten 
for ever upon your destroyed and withering soul. 

In thus wronging conscience, yoic are resisting also the 
influences of the Holy Spirit, and trifling with the last 
provision of mercy in your behalf. By withholding your eyes 
from the truth, seeking to cover your sin, and stifling your 
own solemn convictions of duty, you are "doing despite to 
the Spirit of grace," turning aside the only hand that can 
reach you, shutting yourself out from the way of life, and 
sealing the doom of your immortal spirit. There is "no 
more sacrifice for sin" to be made, no other economy of 
mercy to save you. Resist the truth, stupefy conscience, 
and quench the Spirit, and the deed is done ; there remains 
only the "certain fearful looking for of judgment," and that 
"fiery indignation" which must be the portion of the lost 
soul. 

Do you yet cling to the hope, that possibly you may in 
some ivay escape, though you "neglect so great salvation?" 
How can you escape ? It would involve the giving up of 
truth, the surrender of right, and the triumph of sin against 
the throne of God. God will not deny himself, nor mar the 
peace of the universe, nor abandon his promise to those who 
take refuge in his mercy, that he may screen impenitent 
men from their just doom. Flee then from this last resort 
of a deluded mind, and before conscience is seared and the 



4 WHY YET IMPENITENT ? 

Spirit has left you, seek Him who is the refuge from the 
storm, and the hiding-place from the tempest. 

But here you say, and with solicitude it may be, I do not 
know u-liat it is to repent and be reconciled to God. Sup- 
pose you do not ; yet on this point you can be advised, and it 
is the point on which your everlasting well-being turns. God 
is not a hard master, nor are his commands grievous. By 
the prophet he addresses you : " Only acknowledge thine 
iniquity, that thou hast transgressed against the Lord thy 
God." " Whoso confesseth and forsaketh his sin, shall have 
mercy." And can any thing short of this extract the barbed 
arrow from your bosom, give you peace of conscience, and 
assure your heart before God ? In contrition of spirit, then, 
confess your sins to God, imploring forgiveness through the 
atoning blood of Christ. In brokenness of heart yield up all 
that is wrong in you, and fall at once and without reserve 
into the arms of divine mercy. Look at the prodigal son, as 
in want he comes to his father, saying, "Father, I have sin- 
ned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more wor- 
thy to be called thy son." See that publican in the temple, 
as he smites on his breast, and cries, "God be merciful to 
me a sinner." Go and do likewise, lifting your eye in faith 
to "the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the 
world." This, reason demands — to this, conscience prompts, 
and the Spirit of God moves the soul. Doing this, you yield 
to the agencies sent from above to help you, you meet the 
terms of forgiveness, and wake up in newness of life in Christ 
Jesus. Thus repenting and believing, you gain the sweet 
consciousness of doing right, the burden of sin is removed, 
you are reconciled to God, and get foretastes of that "joy 
unspeakable and full of glory, which fadeth not away." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



iVo. 484< 

THE 



INFIDEL RESTORED 



Mr. Nathaniel L. Coombes was a printer in the city of 
New York, and for several years was a reputable member 
of a Christian church. He was honest and honorable in his 
business transactions, cautious in selecting his associates, 
careful of the reputation of others, and watchful to maintain 
an unimpeachable character for morality and integrity. 

But he was called to meet unexpected trials and diffi- 
culties, from which he found a temporary relief in the use 
of alcoholic stimulants, and to these he soon resorted with a 
most dangerous frequency. He also conceived the idea of 
writing a popular novel, and for some months devoted to it 
all the time he could command, including, at length, the 
hours of the holy Sabbath ; and by degrees he deserted the 
sanctuary, rejected the Bible, and became confirmed in in- 
temperance and infidelity. So decided Avas his rejection of 
evangelical truth, that he left the printing-office in the Tract 
Society house, where he had been engaged for some years, 
assigning as the only reason, that he could not conscientious- 
ly aid in printing religious Avorks. He was often very un- 
happy, and would sometimes say to his employer, " I am a 
miserable being, looking forward to annihilation. I would 
give the world if I could believe as you do. I see that your 
religion makes you cheerful ; but it is all a delusion. I know 
that you are wrong, and that I am right." In this state of 
mind he continued for some years. 

At the introduction of what is called the Washingtonian 
Temperance Reformation, he was among the first to sign 
the pledge, and became an able advocate of total abstinence ; 
but he remained an enemy to religion, and was as free to 
make known his infidelity as his conversion to temperance. 

At length, about the year 1843, the hand of God was 
laid upon him, and, in connection with the approaches of a 
premature old age, he found that his bodily strength M^as 
lailing. He was led to reflection. He "thought on his 

VOL. XII. ^* 



2 THE INFIDEL RESTORED. 

ways." Yet it was not until after many months that his 
enmity to God appeared gradually to yield to the force of 
truth, under the power of the Holy Spirit. 

At this point in his history one of the missionaries of the 
New York City Tract Society called upon him at the request 
of a person who cared for his soul. Mr. Coombes received 
this friend with a cordiality and an expression of pleasure 
that much encouraged him. " I am glad to see you," he 
said ; " I want you to pray for me. You are a happy man ; 
but I am unhappy. that I could feel as you feel I you 
derive comfort from the Bible ; but — " 

"But what ?" said his friend. 

His reply was, " I cannot receive all that the Bible con- 
tains." 

This presented a subject for conversation which was long 
continued, his friend saying, as he was about to leave him, 
" This much you can understand, you are a sinner, and you 
need a Saviour ; let this, and this alone occupy your mind." 
Prayer was then oiiered, previous to which he was asked if 
there was any thing which he particularly desired. 

"Do beg of God," said he, "to hear prayer for me; / 
leant light.'''' 

During prayer he was much affected, and after the in- 
terview he wept aloud, and exclaimed, "I wish that I was 
a Christian. Oh how can I become a Christian ? How 
must I pray for it ? If constant desire be prayer, then there 
is no lack of prayer with me." 

The anxiety of his mind became intense ; he felt his 
sinfulness, and one day said to a friend who was about to 
pray with him, " You say that your Saviour is able to save 
the chief of sinners, do then ask him to save me." Such, 
indeed, was the depth of his conviction of sin, that he felt 
that he must perish without hope. 

But the day of deliverance came. As two friends sat 
by his bedside, he was asked, " How is it with you now, Mr. 
Coombes ?" 

" I am happy," was his reply. 

"And what makes you happy?" 

" I have found the right foundation, and all my happi- 
ness is built upon it." 

" Do you now receive Jesus Christ as a divine Saviour ?" 

" I DO," said he. 



THE INFIDEL RESTORED. 3 

This avowal of his iaith deeply aflected all who were 
present, and they united in singing the beautiful hymn, 

" Amazing grace ! — how sweet the sound — 
That saved a wretch like me : 
I once was lost, but now am found — 
Was blind, but now I see." 

From this time it was pleasing to discover in him every 
day some new evidence of the reality of the blessed change. 
He had been extensively knoAvn, and many gathered around 
him, to whom he spoke decidedly of the reality of religion, 
and the change which he hoped had been wrought in him. 
Among those Avho called was his former employer. He saw 
the grace of God, and was glad. 

It was particularly observable, that he had a deep sense 
of the sin of his wayward life, and an earnest desire as far 
as possible to undo the evil he had done. On one occasion 
he said, " I have done much injury in the M'orld by my infi- 
delity, and wounded the minds of many good people ; but 
could I live my life over again, it should be all devoted to 
God : I would seek to be a second Whitefield." 

Of a pious lady he made this request : " Will you exam- 
ine all my books and writings, and destroy Avhatever may be 
tinctured with infidelity ? Will you promise me this, and 
whatever may be the feelings of others, obey my wishes in 
this respect." The promise was given — ^he then was satis- 
fied. 

His relatives had heard him rail against religion as an 
imposture, but now when some of them were present he 
thus addressed them : " I am fifty-eight years of age : twen- 
ty-three years I have been an opposer of the religion of Je- 
sus Christ — the religion that He established who is the only 
ISaviour of the world. For two years past, I have been A^ery 
unhappy concerning this matter. One day the question 
came into my mind all in a moment, ' What am I ?' I then 
said to myself. Many of us do not acknowledge the immor- 
tality of the soul, and try to believe that man dies like a 
brute, and sinks into annihilation. It is an awful thought. 
Man is above the brute, and has that which the brute has 
not. God must have some plan respecting his intelligent 
creatures, and it is for man that he keeps the world in ex- 



^ - THE INFIDEL RESTORED. 

istence. I then felt that he was my Creator, but I still felt 
much opposed to prayer. After some time I resolved to try 
the efficacy of prayer. I then prayed to the Lord to lead 
me in the right way. I continued to pray for three weeks, 
and then the way was made jDlain to me. Light. broke into 
my mind. The heavy load with which I had been burdened 
was then gone. I no longer feared to die, but wished to do 
whatever might please God. I now expect soon to die ; but 
death will be to me a welcome messenger, whenever my 
Saviour sees fit to call me." 

" You now are clothed, and in your right mind," said 
one. " Yes," said he, " I am clothed in the righteousness of 
Jesus Christ, and he is able to save." Something was said 
to him concerning a Christian friend, when he exclaimed, 
" Poor wretch that I was, how often have I ridiculed that 
man ; but now I love him as a brother." 

He endured great pain, yet did not murmur. With calm 
resignation he would sometimes say, " God's messengers are 
coming, but he does not see fit to hasten them, for my work 
is not yet done." Then after meditating, he would exclaim, 
" Love divine, what hast thou done." During the last 
week of his life his sufferings increased. "When in extreme 
agony his faith triumphed, and he cried out, " Let the storm 
f age, and all the powers of darkness come against me ; they 
cannot harm me, for the eternal God is my refuge." To his 
wife he said, " You need not fear passing through tile dark 
valley, if you have Him to lean upon that Lhave. If I can 
glorify God by suffering, I am willing to suffer." In this 
state of mind he continued ; his soul was happy ; he feared 
no evil, for the Lord was with him : and trusting in the 
merits of Christ, he died in holy triumph. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



DIYINE COUNSEL, 

. FROM THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 



The fear of the Lord is the beginnmg of knowledge ; but 
fools despise wisdom and instruction. My son, hear the in- 
struction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother : 
for they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and 
chains about thy neck. 

My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my com- 
mandments with thee ; so that thou incline thine ear unto 
wisdom, and apply thy heart to understanding ; yea, if thou 
criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for under- 
standing ; if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her 
as for hid treasures ; then shalt thou understand the fear of 
the Lord, and find the knowledge of God. 

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart ; and lean not 
unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge 
him, and he shall direct thy paths. 

Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man 
that getteth understanding : for the merchandise of it is bet- 
ter than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than 
fine gold. She is more precious than rubies : and all the 
things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. 
Length of days is in her right hand ; and in her left hand 
riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and 
all her paths are peace. 

Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go : keep her, 
for she is thy life. Enter not into the path of the wicked, 
and go not in. the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by 
it, turn from it, and pass away. For they sleep not, except 



2 DIVINE COUNSEL. 

they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, 
unless they cause some to fall. For they eat the bread .of 
wickedness, and drinlt the wine of violence. But the path 
of the just is as the shining light, that shine th more and 
more unto the perfect day. 

My son, attend unto my wisdom, and bow thine ear to 
mine understanding : that thou mayest regard discretion, 
and that thy lips may keep knowledge. For the lips of a 
strange woman drop as a honey-comb, and her mouth is 
smoother than oil : but her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp 
as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death ; her steps 
take hold on hell. Lest thou shouldest ponder the path of 
life, her ways are movable, that thou canst not know them. 
Hear me now, therefore, ye children, and depart not from 
the words of my mouth. Remove thy way far from her, and 
come not nigh the door of her house : lest thou give thine 
honor unto others, and thy years unto the cruel : lest stran- 
gers be filled with thy wealth, and thy labors be in the house 
of a stranger ; and thou mourn at the last, when thy flesh 
and thy body are consumed, and say, How have I hated in- 
struction, and my heart despised reproof I 

My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not 
the law of thy mother : bind them continually upon thine 
heart, and tie them about thy neck. When thou goest, it 
shall lead thee ; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee ; and 
when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the com- 
mandment is a lamp ; and the law is light ; and reproofs of 
instruction are the way of life : to keep thee from the evil 
woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman. 
Lust not after her beauty in thy heart ; neither let her take 
thee with her eyelids. For by means of a whorish woman 
a man is brought to a piece of bread : and the adulteress 
will hunt for the precious life. Can a man take fire in his 
bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon 



DIVINE COUNSEL. 3 

hot coals, and his feet not he hurned ? So he that goeth 
in to his neighbor's wife ; whosoever toucheth her shall not 
be innocent. Men do not despise a thief, if he steal to 
satisfy his soul when he is hungry ; but if he be found, he 
shall restore sevenfold ; he shall give all the substance of his 
house. But whoso committeth adultery with a woman, 
lacketh understanding : he that doeth it, destroyeth his own 
soul. A wound and dishonor shall he get ; and liis reproach 
shall not be wiped away. 

My son, keep my words, and lay up my commandments 
with thee. Keep my commandments, and live ; and my 
law as the apple of thine eye. Bind them upon thy fingers, 
write them upon the table of thine heart. Say unto wisdom. 
Thou art my sister ; and call understanding thy kinswoman : 
that they may keep thee from the strange woman, from the 
stranger which flattereth with her words. For at the win- 
dow of my house I looked through my casement, and beheld 
among the simple ones, I discerned among the youths, a 
young man void of understanding, passing through the street 
near her corner ; and he went the way to her house, in the 
twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night : and 
behold, there met him a woman with the attire of a harlot, 
and subtle of heart. (She is loud and stubborn ; her feet 
abide not in her house : now is she without, now in the 
streets, and lieth in wait at every corner.) So she caught 
him, and kissed him, and with an impudent face said unto 
him, I have peace-offerings with me ; this day have I paid 
my vows. Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently 
to seek thy face, and I have found thee. I have decked my 
bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine 
linen of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, 
and cinnamon. Come, let us take our fill of love until the 
morning : let us solace ourselves with loves. For the good- 
man is not at home, he is gone a long journey : he hath taken 



4 DIVINE COUNSEL. 

a bao- of money with him, and will come home at the day 
appointed. With her much fair speech she caused him to 
yield', with the flattering of her lips she forced him. He 
goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, 
or as a fool to the correction of the stocks ; till a dart strike 
through his liver ; as a bird hasteth to the snare, and know- 
eth not that it is for his life. Hearken unto me now, there- 
fore, ye children, and attend to the words of my mouth. 
Let not thine heart decline to her ways, go not astray in her 
paths. For she hath cast down many wounded ; yea, many 
strong men have been slain by her. Her house is the way 
to hell, going down to the chambers of death. 

Unto you, men, I call ; and my voice is to the sons of 
men. Counsel is mine, and sound wisdom : I am under- 
standing ; I have strength. By me kings reign, and princes 
decree justice. By me princes rule, and nobles, even all the 
judges of the earth. I love them that love me ; and those 
that seek me early shall find me. Riches and honor are 
with me ; yea, durable riches and righteousness. ]N[ow 
therefore hearken unto me, ye children; for blessed are 
they that keep my ways. Hear instruction, and be wise, 
and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that heareth me, 
watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my 
doors. For whoso findeth me findeth life, and shall obtain 
favor of the Lord. But he that sinneth against me wrongeth 
his own soul : all they that hate me love death. 

My son, if thy heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even 
mine. Yea, my reins shall rejoice, when thy lips speak right 
things. 

Prov. 1:7-9; 2: 1-5 ; 3:5, 6, 13-17 ; 4 : 13-18 ; 5 : 1-12 ; 
G : 20-33 ; 7 : 1-27 ; 8 : 4, 14-18, 32-3G ; 23 : 15, 16. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 486. 

THE 



NAVY SURGEON; 



CONVERSION OP DR. CHA'S H. BROUGHTON, 

LATE OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY. 



Although educated in a christian community, the sub- 
ject of the following pages had for many years neglect- 
ed " the one thing needful." Possessed of a cultivated 
mind and an amiable heart, he attracted to his friend- 
ship many of the young and the gay, among w^hom he 
moved as an object of peculiar endearment. In the midst 
of earthly loves however, he forgot the love of God, and 
seldom, if ever, lifted his eye from the circle of friends 
around him, to seek that Friend ** which sticketh closer 
than a brother." 

In the winter of 1842 it pleased God to pour out his 
Spirit in a remarkable manner upon the congregation 

in N , Virginia, to vv^hich his parents were attached. 

The old and the young, the moral and profane, were alike 
made the trophies of redeeming grace. Our young friend, 
in the mean time, had been ordered by Government to 
the Gulf of Mexico. An account of the work of God was 
communicated to him by a devoted sister, who also in- 
formed him of the conversion of many of his old asso- 
ciates, and among them some of the members of his 
own family. 

This intelligence seems to have been the special means 
employed by God, in arousing his attention to spiritual 
and eternal things. God is also the hearer of prayer, 
and his Spirit can reach at once the family at home and 
the youth in a distant port. 
vor.. xii. 9 



2 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

The following extracts from his letters will exhibit 
the interest he felt when hearing of the revival in his 
native place. 

*' I was deeply affected, you may be sure, by the in- 
teresting intelligence contained in your last letter ; and 
had wealth beyond the dreams of avarice become ours, 
I should have rejoiced less than at the news of an 
awakening in our own family and town." 

In a letter dated Key West, Aj^ril 15, he says, "Plea- 
sant and sweet as the voices of those I love were the 
messengers from home, that came to me by the last mail. 
They were full of comfort, and raised my heart to the 
Giver of all good, that even here, where there is no 
sound of Sabbath bell, where the servants of the Lord 
are not, and where the wicked seem to strive without 
restraint, he has provided such rich banquets for me in 
the gratulations of distant friends, and in their sympathy 
and advice. To know too, that nearly all the members 
of my family have, through Christ, been accepted of God, 
to know that His Spirit is still spreading and extending 
among the people of my native town, and that many 
friends, out of the family, but still dear to my remem- 
brance, have felt his influence and forsaken evil, to hear 
also that the circle of his operations is spreading far- 
ther and farther about the country — Oh what rapture, 
what overflowing of eyes and heart did all this cause 
me ! What praises too do I not owe to the Judge of 
all the earth, that he has not suffered me to harden my 
heart in the midst of all these wonders, but has answered 
the intercessions made in my behalf with the effectual 
operations of his Spirit?" 

The struggles and conflicts through which his mind 
passed, when under the special teachings of the Spirit, 
together with his ultimate acquiescence in God's plan of 
saving sinners, are stated by himself in two letters bear- 
ing date March 4, and April 15. In the former he says — 



THE SA\'Y SURGEON. 3 

** I hasten to answer your solicitous inquiry — *Do you 
feel yourself a poor, lost sinner, with no hope but in 
Christ, and no joy but in his love V I do indeed humbly 
and earnestly trust that the Spirit of God has purged 
my vision to the beholding of the wickedness of my own 
heart, and shocked and sickened me with the loathsome 
spectacle. By that operation I have beheld and compre- 
hended the web of sophistry in which sin had entangled 
my soul, in the hour of temptation lulling my conscience 
into security by crying peace, peace, when there was no 
peace, and with all the serpent's subtlety persuading me, 
* Thou shalt not surely die,' when God had said, * Tkou 
shalt die' 

** Oh how clearly did I see its treachery and deceit, 
its wickedness and folly, and how gladly did I turn from 
the Syren I had listened to, to trust in the Lord, and to 
wrestle with him for the hope that is in Christ ! But oh, 
how hard it was to turn — to close my ears to the elo- 
quent pleadings of sin and Satan — to believe that the 
Savior could pity and love a wretch who had so often 
witnessed the wonderful works of his Providence, yet 
went straightway and sinned again ! Yet He renjem- 
bered 'that we are but flesh — a wind that passeth away 
and cometh not again,' and gi'aciously condescended to 
bruise the head of the serpent that had beguiled me, so 
that I now hope that * old things have passed away, and 
all thins^s have become new.' 

** And how differently now do this world and this life 
appear ! What to me are the cold and unsympathising 
regards, the unwilling praise that might be wrung from 
the world by a life spent in its service, to the joy that 
is in heaven *over one sinner that repenteth ?' What are 
the cares and sorrows of worldly ambition, compared with 
the love, de&ire, faith and hope that fill the heart in me- 
ditating upon the goodness of God, and in reading his 
word with spiritual discernment ? Surely * the evidence 



4 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

of thino-s hot seen, and the substance of things hoped 
for,' are joys that surpass all the joys that flow from 
sensual objects. 

" I need no further evidence of my sinful nature than 
that even now I transgress daily, having cause often to 
grieve that the fear of the Lord is not always before 
my eyes, that my faith is too weak, and that I am liable 
to be influenced by the fear of ridicule and the habits of 
those around me. My eyes have been opened, however, 
to see that this results chiefly from the neglect of some 
christian duty, and I am thus warned to be earnest at, all 
times; for I find that nothing but God's Holy Spirit 
strengthening me, can so work upon my heart as to des- 
troy the influence of its old habits and associations : nor 
is this ever withheld when I seek it." 

In his second letter his statements are more minute, 
and the exercises of his mind are given in a more graphic 
and interesting manner. 

" The means God has made use of in drawing me to 
himself, are to me inconceivable. I understand but this, 
that ' whereas I was blind, now I see.' There was sor- 
row following the known commission of sin — there was 
the desire for reformation — there was the sharp conflict 
between conviction and depraved but rooted natural ha- 
bits — there was the frequent triumph of the latter — there 
was the deep feeling of wounded pride, self-abasement, 
and complete humiliation, in consequence of my own 
will not being sufficient for reformation — there was the 
consciousness that I should perish except I did repent 
— there was the agony with which I looked upon eter- 
nity, dark and cheerless, without joy and without even 
hope — there was the anxious inquiry, ' What shall I do 
to inherit eternal life ]' — and then, thank God, there was 
gushing prayer, * God be merciful to me a sinner ' — then 
came answers like revelations from heaven — then did I 
seem to hear, ' Me for him, life for life I offer ; on me 



THE XAVY SURGE OX. 5 

let thine anger fall ; account me man. I for his sake 
will leave thy bosom, and this glory next to thee freely 
put off; and for him lastly die.' 

" It seemed to me as if God * reasoned with me,' s(» 
quickly were my questions answered, so fully were my 
doubts removed. Then did I feel, 

" ' The sweet comfort and peace 
*" Of a soul iu its earliest love.' 

(Thank you for that hymn, I have it literally hy hearty 
How mysterious do my former blindness and my present 
light appear ! I used to feel quite secure ; imagined that 
I loved God, and that God loved me. I worshipped him 
in the self-righteous spirit of Socrates, or as the Indian 
worships his Manitou, or the Turk confides in his des- 
tiny ; knowing nothing of natural depravity and enmity 
to God, and the inevitable necessity of a Savior ; know- 
ing not that without Christ * we can do nothing,' and 
that salvation is not of ourselves, but the gift of God. * O 
the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and know- 
ledge of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, 
and his ways past finding out!' 

** And now, what a blessed thing it is to know- and 
love this Savior ! * Shall tribulation, or distress, or per- 
secution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword, 
separate me from the love of Christ V I trust not, with 
the help of God. Though troubles and trials surround 
me here as a fiery furnace, there is One walking with me 
like the Son of God, as with the Jewish youths, and the 
smell of fire shall not pass upon me. How beautiful is 
the following verse in Isaiah, * Fear not, for I have re- 
deemed thee. I have called thee by thy name, and thou 
art mine. When thou passest through the waters I will 
be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not 
ovei-flow thee. When thou walkest through the fire 
thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle 
upon thee.* 

VOL. XII. 9* 



6 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

''These things are my comfort, my very present help 
in time of need. For the daily duties of a heavenly life, 
I have that best of guides — the Bible, read by the light 
of the Spirit ; and for my commentator I have Baxter's 
Saints' Rest— a book filled with the breath of active hope 
and love, as if, to use his own words, ' the things written 
there had been engr-aved on his heart by a beam from the 
face of the Son of God.' The Tracts you sent me are 
very appropriate and please me much, especially those 
entitled, * Do I grow in grace ]' and * Advice to young 
converts.' My companions, I dare say, think me less of a 

* good fellow ' now than they did ; but the christian who 
acts consistently with his faith, must command respect 
fr-om all but fools, and the esteem of such, or indeed of 
any, is of small value compared with the love of God. 

* I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be re- 
vealed in us.' These things, however, God has tempered 
to me, and I go on my course without exciting the oppo- 
sition or ridicule of those around me. Generally, and I 
speak it in their praise, my brother officers, though caring 
for none of these things themselves, respect the feelings 
and opinions of others, and have the good sense to dis- 
tinoruish between disinclination for their occupations, and 
dislike for themselves." 

The following extract from a letter dated Key West, 
March 16, furnishes many pleasing evidences of the tho- 
roughness of the change which had taken place in the 
heart of Dr. Broughton. It also exhibits the groanings of 
his soul while situated amid influences adverse to its spi- 
ritual advancement and comfort. 

** It is a source of regret to me that I cannot be more 
alone, to indulge in pious exercises and reflections with 
greater ease aad freedom; and to escape the conversation 
of the persons around me, I have sometimes gone ashore 
in a savage country with a musket to protect me, that I 



THE InAVV «L'KGE0X. . 7 

might be alone with God. Yet even the conduct and 
conversation of my messmates teaches me humility, in- 
asmuch as I, * know^ing the judgment of God, that they 
w^hich commit such things are worthy of death, have nof 
only done the same, but had pleasure in those that do 
them.' Thus when I see ignorance and folly in others, 
far fi'om feeling any self complacency, I derive the lesson 
that the good I may have is not of myself, but from the 
giace of God. 

" Blessed be God too, that the new desires and im- 
pulses he has planted in me, he has not forgotten to wa- 
ter and increase. I felt not shame but joy, a few days 
ago, when appealed to to decide an argument about the 
propriety of some pleasurable sin, to hear its advocate ex- 
claim, * Oh the doctor takes his morality from the Bible.' 
And yet, not a long time has elapsed since I should have 
been ashamed to have him see me with the Bible in 
my hand ! 

"I have been always fond of acquiring knowledge; 
but latterly, how changed is the motive. Once, every fact 
that I added to my hive, every new idea that flashed 
upon my mind, every labor that was undertaken, and 
every task performed, was but a snare to my feet, a 
temptation in my path. Ostentatious display was the mo- 
tive, and self-conceit the result. And great indeed was 
the barrier of pride and self-reliance with which I had 
thus fortified my heart. The grace of God, however, has 
been greater, and the knowledge of Christ is now my 
highest aim, my chief hope. A mine of wisdom has been 
opened to me in the Gospel by the light of grace, where 
T had previously gi'oped about in darkness. 

" In the wonders of scientific research I now can hear 
the voice of God, and see his hand. In the history of 
the past I can watch his providence working out its own 
ends, and so disposing events as to make them work to- 
gether for his own glory and the advancement of his king- 



8 THE XAVY SURGEON. 

dom. Even my imagination, that enemy to truth and 
heightener of sinful lusts has, under the gentle influence 
of Christ, become an associate with faith and hope and 
love, in strengthening my convictions and quickening my 
perceptions of heavenly things. There are sins, alas too 
numerous, that do easily beset me, and w^hich sometimes 
bring the fear that my ' goodness is as the morning cloud,' 
that I am still under the dominion of sin and Satan, and 
that the hope of eternal life with me is a mere delusion. 
" I endeavor to forsake sinful pleasures, for I have 
ceased to delight in them. An easy disposition however 
often induces me to yield. May God forgive me, and 
strengthen me by his grace to hold on in * patient con- 
tinuance in well doing ' — to trust less in myself, and more 
in Christ — to watch and pray lest I enter into temptation. 
Your prayers, my dear sister, I am sure I have. I have 
written a long account of my feelings upon religion. It 
is a subject that engages my thoughts continually, and 
which has precedence of every other, so that I should 
not tire were I to write ever so much more. You will 
feel with me and for me, and can fully appreciate my 
situation." 

When a soul is converted it is impossible for it to be 
idle. Salvation may begin with itself, but can only end 
with all who need it. The feelings of Dr. Broughton on 
this subject are exhibited in a communication, dated 
Indian Key, May, 1842. 

'* It is the high privilege of my vocation not only to 
minister physical reHef to suffering man, but also in the 
car of him who thought to die hopeless and unpitied, to 
speak words of sympathy, comfort and peace. Of what 
priceless value then — and at what small cost — is a simple 
pressure of the hand, accompanied with a whisper of that 
love that requires of the most hardened sinner the exer- 
cise of faith alone for salvation. 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 9 

" I have for some time past been deeply interested and 
affected by the accounts that reach us of the revival of 
religion, and the progress of temperance at the North. 
They surpass all human conception, and ought alone to 
convict sinners, as the great light from heaven did Saul. 
How visible are the workings of God's Spirit ! I look 
with wonder and confidence to these movements and the 
missionary cause, as the setting of the tide towards the 
kingdom of heaven universal upon earth. Inquiries into 
the future, farther than depends upon the promises oi 
God, are generally vain and useless. But these promises 
should urge christians onward — not to ask, * Are all things 
ready ?' — but earnestly to labor that the knowledge of 
salvation may be spread abroad, and freely to give as 
they have freely received, the glad tidings of * good will 
to men.' 

" I am perhaps canied beyond the humility proper 
for me, in thus expressing my opinion ; but these are 
matters that I feel zealous about, and my mouth speaks 
out from the fulness of my heart. I feel my benevolent 
sympathies expand the more, the more they are gratified. 
Like the circle in water that starting from one point 
spreads itself over the whole surface, so charity with* me, 
by God's blessing, though beginning at home, did not 
stop there. My first desires were for myself, then my 
family, my friends and acquaintances came next, then 
my country, then all human kind ; and, glory to God, 
his work seems to prosper in all. Please tell Thomas, 
that as he is my purser I make him my almoner also, 
and commission him to make an offering for me at the 
concerts of prayer for missions, and also for Sabbath 
schools." 

Converted on board a man of war, and separated by 
his situation from the privileges of the sanctuary, the 
heart of Dr. Broughton, like that of David panted for 



10 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

the courts of the Lord's house. His feelings, together 
with his high appreciation of the Holy Scriptui'es in his 
temporary exile from the house of God, may be learned 
from a letter dated Indian Key, June 17, 1812. 

** God knows what is best for me, but I cannot feel 
here, while surrounded by persons whose associations 
and habits influence me somewhat, as if I had given my 
whole soul to Christ. Too often do I feel bowed to the 
dust with shame that having understood so great salva- 
tion, I have not buckled on the whole armor of God to 
guard it against all assaults of the enemy of souls. I 
sometimes fear that my peace has been presumption, so 
liable am I to be led away from the Spirit by trusting for 
strength to myself. Oh for the sympathy and companion- 
ship of christian friends ! Oh for the benefit of pious 
example and conversation, for holy Sabbath days and the 
enforcement of the Gospel by teachings, persuasions and 
alarms ! 

" Yet God has stood by me in the greatest straits, and 
every fresh conviction of sin and unworthiness has been 
joined with fresh conviction of the necessity of a Savior. 
Like Pilate, I used often to ask, ' What is truth V and 
like him, too often I would not wait for an answer. I 
used to think that truth was something that people wished 
or imagined to be so ; that every man's notion of what 
was true depended upon prejudice, and that all questions 
might have as much said upon one side as on the other. 
But how different is Revealed Truth ! He that has it 
knows it, feels it, it is Ids. The combined powers of the 
world and of Satan cannot take it from him ; it is a part 
of him — the sure * evidence of things not seen.' 

'* Oh, I have felt my whole frame tingle and my hands 
clasp in ecstacy, as in the Bible the Spirit of truth and 
love has revealed to me mighty and wonderful things, 
such as I could have never known or even dreamed of. 
And I have hated the flesh, whose sluggishness, whose 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 11 

passions have made us to see these things * in part ' 
only. Certainly nothing can be more powerful than this 
truth, to comfort, to exalt, to redeem, I cannot refrain 
in my letters from pouring out my feelings to you on this 
subject. They find here no other earthly vent, and you, 1 ain 
sure, will be interested by them, while it is a relief to me." 

In a letter dated August 12, we find the following 
consolatory language in reference to some afflictions in 
the family. 

" You must have had a season of distress, but I am 
sure you all have found that it was good to be afflicted. 
How forcibly, when I think of it all, am I impressed 
with the truth * that affliction cometh not forth out of the 
dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground.* No 
human prudence can foresee or avoid them — no human 
skill can remove them, or even understand the manner 
in which they cease to operate. God alone can wound 
or heal, can break or make whole again. 

*' And is it not w^ise and just in Christ to take us up 
into the wilderness to be tempted as he was, to fast and 
to pray as he did, and to drink with him the bitter cup; 
as well as to permit us to eat of his body and drink *of 
his blood ] Are * the sufferings of this present time to be 
compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us ]' 
But alas, alas, how little can I myself feel or practice 
these convictions. When God withdraws his face to 
try me, how soon do I fall into hopelessness and hard- 
ness of heart ; and it is only his abundant mercy that 
brings me back to his favor, and makes my errors and 
sins cover me with liumility, imparting the consciousness 
that Christ is the only refuge for the soul, and the only 
object worthy of love and abiding confidence. 

"If, too, when I have 'done all commanded,' T am 
still an ' unprofitable servant,' how much more so wnen 
I transgress daily, if not in open sin, at least in the no- 



12 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

gleet of the proper exercises of faith and love — in sinful 
and perverse thoughts, words and affections 1 But there 
is One who ever liveth to make intercession, and the 
merit of whose atonement will remove the imperfections 
and make acceptable the services of him who is vile and 
despicable in his own eyes." 

But a short time after this the vessel in which Dr. 
Brouo^hton had been an involuntary exile from the means 
of grace, was ordered home. What were the emotions 
with which he met his parents, brothers and sisters, can 
better be imagined than described. During his absence 
his father, three brothers, a sister, a brother-in-law and 
himiself, had all been hopefully converted to God. The 
family had become indeed a christian family, and the 
very ark of God seemed to have taken its abode within 
its walls. Nor was this all. Almost all his acquaintances 
and old friends were now members of the church. Oh 
how great a change in so short a time. And how agree- 
able were all these things to the young convert from the 
everglades of Florida ! 

But there was another joy for the heart of this young 
disciple. Long had he been panting and sighing after 
the ordinances of God. Long had he been groaning in 
spirit while in a desert of the means of grace. But now 
the sweet Sabbath shines around him ; the church-bell 
drops its notes upon his ear ; thronging multitudes crowd 
the still streets, and the sanctuary is open for his recep- 
tion. High privileges these — holy seasons these ! And 
as he entered the house of God, and there sat among 
his people ; as the commingling voices of the worshippers 
beo-an to arise ; as the accents of prayer and public in- 
struction were uttered ; and especially as the cloud that 
had sheltered him in the wilderness re-appeared in God's 
temple, diffusmg all around a spiritual baptism — how 
truly did the heart of our young friend unite with that 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 13 

of the pilgrim at Luz, *' This is none other than the 
house of God, and this is the gate of heaven !" 

Nor did he delay to fulfil the vow he had made in 
a distant land, of dedicating himself tvliolly to the ser- 
vice of God. On November 27, 1842, together with four 
others, one of them a converted Roman Catholic, he 
made a public profession of the faith of the Gospel, 
and for the first time sat down at the table of Christ 
among his people. 

' How sweet and awful is the place, 

* With Christ w ithin the doors, 
" While everlasting Love displays 
" The choicest of her stores!" 

And sweet no doubt our young brother felt it to be — 
a day of espousals — a day of communion with Christ 
and his people — a day never to be forgotten. 

For several months after his connection with the church 
our young friend held the office of surgeon on board a 
ship of the line, then lying in port. He now enjoyed the 
privilege of attending the sanctuary regularly, and of 
mingling his christian sympathies with those of his breth- 
ren. His pastor has often noticed the steady fixedifess 
of his dark eye, and the animated glow of his earnest 
countenance under the preaching of the word. His ar- 
dor was amazing, and yet it was so internal, so deep as 
not to be noticed by any save his most intimate friends. 
He often visited his pastor in his study to converse about 
spiritual and eternal things. On most of these occasions 
he would replenish himself with Tracts, which he dis- 
tributed among the sailors as he had opportunity. For 
the seaman he felt a deep sympathy. He knew his des- 
titution, and had a heart to relieve, so far as he could, the 
inconveniences to which he was subject. 

A judicious friend of his having suggested to the 

VOL. XTI. 10 



14 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

writer that his talents might probably be available for 
the pulpit, the Tract entitled, ** Call and qualifications 
for the Gospel Ministry," was put in his hands. This 
Tract he read carefully and with much prayer. It laid 
before him a field of usefulness larger than had pre- 
viously occurred to his mind. Many difficulties, however, 
arose. He was in his country's service. He was in 
not only an honorable but a useful profession. Change 
was uncertain. He might not be qualified — he might not 
be called. All these objections arose. His desire for 
usefulness, however, had v/ell nigh conquered them all 
when he was suddenly ordered by government to a 
cruise among the West India Islands. This circumstance 
placed his mind in great trouble. As a conviction of duty, 
however, he obeyed his country's call, saying to me as 
we parted, " I hope to have my mind made up by my 
return." 

It appears from his letters afterwards that he altogether 
relinquished this idea of preaching. His humility, his 
consciousness of the greatness of the work, together pro- 
bably with the disadvantageous situation he occupied to 
decide such a question, brought him to this result. Still, 
he " being dead speaketh ;" and the writer earnestly 
hopes that even his quenched desire may excite the heart 
of some other of like spirit to fill his place in publishing 
salvation to a lost world. 

The first letter received from Dr. Broughton after his 
departure was dated Nassau, New Providence, Jan. 20, 
1843. In this he writes — 

" I feel much ashamed of the despondency I exhibited 
lust before leaving home. I knew that I was about to be 
subjected to trial and privation ; and looking only to 
myself I felt discouraged and afraid of sinking. The 
Lord, however, has graciously stretched out his hand to 
me though of little faith, and so far I have had blessed 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 15 

experience that he will not forsake those who look to 
nim for help. I am amazed at myself that I have had 
so little faith. If God's ways were as our ways, or his 
thoughts as our thoughts, I should long ago have fallen 
from his favor. But while Christ ever liveth to make in- 
tercession, Oh who or what shall separate us from the 
love of God 1 

*' I feel happy to think that, though far away from you 
all, we meet together morning and evening at the throne 
of gi'ace, and that our Sabbaths, our God, and our Savior 
are the same. You must write to me all the new things 
which occur in the church, and what the result may be 
of the season you expect in February. Send me on also, 
to Pensacola, your numbers of the Missionary Chronicle 
when you shall have finished reading them, and give my 
affectionate regards to the many and kind friends that 
God has given me." 

The following letter dated Matanzas, Cuba, Feb. 20, 
will be read with interest. 

*' One could scarcely imagine a situation more unfavor- 
able than mine for reading and meditation, and yet I am 
surprised to find that I can acquire and digest know- 
ledge here as well almost as under more convenient cir- 
cumstances. The frivolous conversation that is often car- 
ried on around me creates a want of occupation, and 
books and self-study come kindly in to supply it. My 
slothfiil flesh tries hard to wheedle me into the belief 
that there is * a lion in the way,' and that it is useless to 
try to read ; but I am otherwise constrained to make the 
effort, which is generally successful. I also find much 
time when the officers are asleep or keeping their watch 
on deck. I have thus read Scott's ' Force of Truth,' New- 
ton's * Life and Letters,' ' Mammon,' several Tracts, and 
have made progress in familiarising myself with our 
larger catechism. 



16 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

" Passages of the Bible are sometimes brought home 
to my heart with great force, though generally my con- 
ceptions are not so clear as I could wish. This, however, 
is an incentive to perseverance and diligence. Mammon 
is a very scrutinizing book, and I trust it has done me 
(rood. It has certainly opened my eyes to behold a 
beauty in economy, which the phlegmatic maxims of 
Franklin could never bring me to perceive. Newton, 
too, 1 have enjoyed much. One of his letters seemed to 
take scales from my eyes, and gave me a clue to under- 
stand how, through a dark period of doubt and distress, 
an unseen hand had been keeping alive the fire in my 
heart which Satan vy^as striving to quench. I can now 
bless the hand that chastened me, and own with wonder 
and admiration that he doeth all things well. Now I 
know, not because of what was told me, but because * I 
have seen him and heard him myself 

'* I see the hand of God in many of the events of my 
past life, how he has been before me as a refiner of sil- 
ver, waiting for me with compassionate forbearance, and 
wooing me to take his image while I have been heaping 
dross in the way, and my neck has been a sinew of iron, 
and my brow brass. And what is man's heart, that God 
should love it so, and be resolved to win it 1 It is strange 
enough that he should stoop to save us ; but how much 
more wonderful is it that he should draw us to him 
against our efforts! 

" You would scarcely believe me, were I to tell you 
what narrow conceptions I had formed of God's love, 
and how ignorant I was of his ways. A short time be- 
fore I left home I read in Pilgrim's Progress the de- 
scription of the man in the iron ca^e, and my heart feared 
that the case was mine ; it was so much like what I felt, 
it was so much like what I deserved. Like David I was 
afraid lest I should one day perish. But He who know- 
eth our frame sustained me by his word which preached 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 17 

perseverance in so many places that even unbelief waa 
convinced, and I was enabled calmly to wait for him 
who * has the words of eternal life.' Since then I trust 
J am prepared to say, in whatever frame I am, * Hope 
thou in God, for I shall yet praise him.' 

" It is a great source of comfort to study the providence 
of God towards me, and to see in many apparent evils 
how much good can be extracted. He has disappointed 
hopes that I had formed of earthly happiness, only that 
I might seek and prize the more the * rest ' that * remain- 
eth.' He has placed me here amid trial and privation 
that I may learn my own weakness, and be taught to 
rely solely on him. He has taken me, so young in grace, 
from those means and ordinances by which his mercy 
refreshes others, that I might look immediately to him 
without helps and aids. • 

" One thinsc at first distressed me much, the limited 
sphere of usefulness in which I live. I am now sure, 
however, that there are few situations on earth in which 
a conscientious christian cannot make himself useful. 
Even in the midst of worldly associations he can observe 
the specious arguments by which unbelief hides itself in 
the natural heart, and knowing himself to have begn si- 
milarly deceived, he can endeavor to convince others that 
Eternal Life consists not in vain speculations about 
* fixed fate, free will, fore-knowledge absolute,' nor in the 
adoption of the mere forms of church worship; but in 
repentance unto life and faith in the atonement of Christ. 
This, to be sure, is looked upon as puritanical ; and hu- 
man reason will rather delight itself in measuring eter- 
nal truth by its own standard, than in considering itself 
imperfect, and that faith in God's revealed word is the 
only true wisdom. 

" It is something, however, to tell such that they are 
wrong, and to have good books at hand which they 
will sometimes read, if from no other motive, to fill up 

VOL. xn. 10* 



18 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

the vacancy of their time. I have also an additional pri- 
vilege. The captain has requested me to read prayer? 
on Sundays ; and then I can select what parts of Scrip- 
ture I wish to read, and with God's help I shall not 
be wanting in a word of exhortation, though not a pro- 
phet nor a prophet's son." 

We have already noticed the fact that Dr. Broughton 
when leaving home had serious thoughts of preparing 
for the christian ministry. The following letter from 
Pensacola, dated April 24, alludes to this subject, and 
also exhibits the deep interest he felt in the spiritual 
welfare of seamen. 

*' The denunciations of the Bible against time unim- 
proved and duty unperformed, and the promises held out 
to even feeble attempts, had filled my mind with the de- 
sire to devote myself to a cause in which I might hope, 
by the Divine blessing, to be in some humble degree 
useful. But my charity was unwilling to begin where it 
should have done. Sloth and selfishness magnified the 
difficulties I should encounter among those around me, 
till it seemed a matter almost impossible that I should 
be useful here ; and I am ashamed while I make the 
confession, that the privations I must endure in my pre- 
sent position, and the constant need for caution and 
watching lest the cause of Christ should suffer reproach 
through my weakness, may have had some influence in 
cloiiding my understanding and directing my thoughts 
to the sacrifice of myself that I proposed to make. 

" I had not then experienced how prone the heart is 
to pervert the leadings of the Spirit, by mixing with them 
the desires of our own foolish and fond imaginations. Nor 
had I then reflected that many sailors were themselves 
heathen, so far as the lack of Gospel preaching, and 
minds darkened by ignorance and superstition, and hearts 
under the dominion of Satan could so be considered 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 19 

But now that christian philanthropy has opened her 
heart to them, and persons unconnected with them are 
seeking their welfare, it certainly became ine^ from my 
relation to them and from the peculiar opportunities I 
possess, to take up their cause and to endeavor to help 
it forward by whatever means the Lord has given me." 

In another letter, June 16, he says, " I have seen no 
reason to regret the conclusion I was brought to on the 
subject of the ministry : on the contrary, in a letter from 
Mobile containing information that a present of the Evan- 
gelical Library had been made to the crew of the B., I 
have been encouraged by the expression that * the moral 
advancement of the seamen around me was the no- 
blest of all ends ;' and I hope to make it my chief con- 
cern hereafter to be conscientious in the discharge of 
this duty." 

A short time after this we find his vessel again cruis- 
ing among the West India Islands. While at Havana 
he fell in with a congenial spirit, a young physician from 
the United States who was *- exerting himself as far as 
he had the power, to spread the knowledge of the truth 
around him," of whom he says, " The doctor's company 
was a great comfort to me, and has strengthened -and 
encouraged me not a little." 

In writing from Cienfuegos, under date of Sept. 11, 
he thus alludes to the religious condition of the place. 

" The fooleries of the Catholics have lost nothing in 
the hands of the people of this place. Friday, the 8th, 
was the feast of the nativity of the Virgin Mary ; and her 
image, bedizened with silk and spangles, was to have 
been paraded through the streets in procession, but the 
succession of rainy weather has put a stop to the mum- 
mery. Yesterday (Sunday) evening was however cele- 
brated by a ball, I presume in honor of ' nuestra Senora,* 
(our Lady.) To this, in common with the officers, I re 



20 THE NAVY SURGEON, 

ceived a card in which 'Seiior Dr. B.' was informed that 
the committee of arrangements, desirous of eclat in the 
discharge of their office, solicited his assistance. Whether 
the efforts of the committee unassisted by Dr. B. were 
sufficient to make the entertainment a brilliant one, I 
cannot decide. My country is welcome to the honor of 
the invitation, no doubt intended in all decency and cour- 
tesy ; but while I may be gratified to have her honored 
abroad by the civilities of strangers, I cannot but pity 
the poor deluded souls who are taught to * reject the 
commandment of God that they may receive the tradition 
of men.' Of a truth, from what I learn, the curse of God 
is upon them. They prostrate themselves before Vice 
and Ignorance with the willingness of the worshippers 
of Juggernaut. No social ties are sacred, no virtues are 
practised or respected. It is indeed a nation that has 
drunk deep of the wine of the fornication of the beast. 
Soul sickening are some of the accounts I have heard of 
the state of morals here." 

With the exception of a small note, the following is 
the last of Dr. Broughton's letters, dated Pensacola, 
Nov. 2, 1843. 

" Ere long I hope and believe that God will direct my 
way to you all, though I must say that the pleasurable 
anticipations I had formed of this event have been not 
a little diminished by the painful intelligence you com- 
municate of the apparently declining state of religion in 
the church. My great desire of returning among you 
was, that I might have my faith increased and strength- 
ened by the example and counsel of faithful christians, 
that I might be better able to make known among men 
the ways of God. I trust that the hope of increasing 
mere selfish comfort and enjoyment was only a secondary 
motive, for I have learned in part to bear with content- 
ment the privation of these, in the belief that an eternity 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 21 

of enjoyment will be sufficient to satisfy my most long- 
ing desires. 

" Wherever I go, the cry of creation groaning under 
the curse enters my ear, and the voice within me whis- 
pers, * What art thou, O atom 1 that thou shouldest re- 
gard thyself; that thou shouldest bury God's talent in 
the ground, or consume his Spirit on thy lusts !' Feeble 
indeed have my efforts been, but God despiseth not 'the 
day of small things.* 

** Since God has enlarged my confidence in him, I am 
less perplexed with the superiority of others in natural 
endowments, and I can argue in a spirit of more candor 
than formerly, being now more desirous of elevating the 
truth than of exalting myself I have so often failed 
when venturing in my own strength to defend the truth 
of God, in consequence of the greater ability of some of 
my associates, that I am now quite willing that God 
should defend his own truth, and content myself w^ith 
opposing ' the sword of the Spirit ' to the lovers of the 
world, trusting that its Author will cause it to smite 
where he willeth that they should have repentance and 
the knowledge of Him. There are many kinds of 
voices in the world which speak of God to these men, 
and though they have least disposition to listen to the 
plainest one, yet all the others are but the echoes of 
this, and with proper light may be known to depend 
upon it. It is in this way that conversation upon almost 
any subject may be brought home to the word of God, 
and thus rendered profitable. 

" But let me tell you of one application I made of 
the texts you quoted in your letter. Since God has en- 
larged my confidence in him, I have discovered my re- 
lationship by grace to a much larger family than that 
to which I am bound by nature, and although his Spirit 
has prompted me to pray with much earnestness for 
the enlargement and establishment of his kingdom upon 



22 THE NAVy SURGEON. 

earth, yet I have been led to regard with special in- 
terest' in prayer my own family and church. This I 
know is often with you all a subject of prayer, and we 
must pray in faith, that God may grant our- requests. 
I believe that he does answer prayer thus offered, not 
only from his word and the experience of christians of 
whom I have read or with whom I have conversed, 
but also from indubitable evidence in my own experi- 
ence. I think too, that the experience of churches is 
the same with that of individual christians, and that 
sunshine and clouds are necessary to the perfecting 
of faith in both. 

" We are all short-sighted, but experience has taught 
me, at no small cost, what I dare say it must teach all, 
that in the day when the candle of the Lord shines upon 
us, we are prone to be satisfied with ourselves, and to 
use your own words, * to think it impossible that we 
should ever get back to our former cold state.' We are 
apt in this condition to imagine that we have a supply 
of God's grace, which will last us at least for some time 
to come, and thus grow careless about the use of the 
means of sustaining our spiritual life. The manna, how- 
ever, that is so covetously laid up, corrupts, and we dis- 
cover by sad experience that as natural life must be 
supported by daily food, equally true is it that only daily 
supplies can sustain the life and vigor of our faith. If 
the means are used with the belief that God will deliver 
us, even our temporary decline will become a blessing, 
for in overcoming it we shall have greater strength and 
confidence than before. Perseverance in effort is the kind 
of faith that I have found to remove mountains. It is 
not sighing but runriing that wins the race. I have found 
no remedy for suffering and for distressing thoughts like 
doing. Active obedience is the evidence of that faith 
which quenches all the fiery darts of Satan. If then we 
who are members of an unhealthy church are patient 



THE NAVY SURGEON. 23 

and faithful, we can confidently expect that God w\V 
answer our prayers, a,nd that bread thus cast upon the 
waters will return after many days. 

" I am afraid, from consciousness of my youth and 
want of wisdom, that what I have written may have 
been written with the haste of presumption, and may be 
so considered by you ; but it has been the result of ex- 
perimental reading of God's v/ord and of prayer, and I 
have expressed myself thus, not because I think I know 
the truth more or better than others, but because I think 
that the ways of God to me have been wonderful, and 
that the experience of the humblest child of God may 
be read by others with profit." 

But a short time after the date of the above Dr. 
Broughton commenced his voyage homeward. While 
stopping a short time in the West Indies he was seized 
with fever. It was principally of a nervous character, 
and seemed to threathen his life. He reached home, 
however, early in the next month. He was emaciated, 
and his appearance excited the sympathy of all who 
saw him. He survived about two weeks. On the 22d 
of December, 1S43, he breathed his last, calmly reclining 
on the bosom of God his Savior. 

His exercises on his death-bed were deeply interest- 
ing, but were frequently interrupted by mental aberra- 
tions. On one occasion he said to his mother, "I saw 
myself all pollution and sin ; and it seems to me that just 
a drop of a Savior's blood fell on me, which removed all 
my pollutions and gave me acceptance with God." 

Just before he expired he leaped up in the bed ex- 
claiming, " Where is Abraham's bosom 1 Where is Abra- 
ham's bosom V The physician in attendance replied, 
*• Doctor, Abraham is not here." — " Abi'aham not here !" 
he exclaimed with amazement — "Abraham not here!" 
and fell back upon his pillow and died ! Thus vanished 



24 THE NAVY SURGEON. 

into the light of heaven this blaze of piety, which God 
had so wonderfully created and sustained. 

On the next Sabbath his funeral was attended by a 
very large concourse of citizens and naval officers. The 
sermon was preached from Heb. 11:4," He being dead 
yet speaketh." The impression was deep and solemn, 
and all seemed to be amazed at the wonderful example 
of his grace, which God had produced on the coasts of 
Florida without the ordinary means of salvation. "JVe 
followed the hearse to the silent grave where, within 
walls of brick and amid rows of ever-blooming cedars, 
we deposited the body of our dear beloved Broughton 
with christian and military honors. Venerated parents, 
brothers and sisters, and a large circle of friends com- 
mingled their tears at his tomb, remembering his vir- 
tues, and mourning his early loss. 

*' But no, he is not lost — 
" In heaven his spirit shines, 
" While here, the trarrie once tost, 
" In hope of life reclines. 

"He is not lost — a ray 
" From e'en his tomb ascends, 
•* Which marks to bliss the way, 
" And Jesus recommends. 

"That way may others tread, 
"Upon that Savior trust, 
" And find, as he, the dead 
"Have comforts in the dust.'' 



JVo. 487. 



COL. DAVID MACK, 



FAITHFUL STE¥ARD. 



" It is required in stewards that a man be found faith- 
ful." Every man is a steward of God, the universal Pro- 
prietor. Men are not their own, but his ; and their bodies 
and souls, their time and influence, their wealth and chil- 
dren, all belong to him. These are talents committed to 
their care, with the com.m.and, " Occupy till I come." It 
is therefore Atheistic and rebellious to say, " I and these 
possessions are mine : who is Lord over me ?" And it is 
disloyal to feel and conduct, as if we and our possessions 
were to be disposed of according to our own good pleasure. 
But, on the other hand, it is angelic and Christian, both in 
word and deed, to feel and to say as did King David to the 
King of kings, " All things come of thee, and of thine own 
have we given thee." This is right ; and though it be not 
so with the creatures of God generally on the earth, there 
are some who, like Moses, are faithful in all their house ; 
men who, like Abraham, command their households ajfter 
them ; men who, like the primitive saints, say not that 
aught of the things which they possess are their own. 

To such a man would we direct the reader of these 
pages — a man known to many in our land, and worthy of 
being known to more, and imitated by all ; for his memo- 
rial is among the just, who shall be in everlasting remem- 
brance. He was a man remarkable in his ancestry and 

VOL. XII. 11 



2 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

early training ; in his own family ; in his influence on 
society ; in his acquisition and use of intelligence and 
wealth ; in his general benevolence and interest in the 
spiritual welfare of others ; in his growth in grace, long 
life, peaceful death, and eternal glory. 

We speak of Colonel David Mack, of Middlefield, 
Massachusetts, who died March 24, 1845, being more than 
ninety-four years old. He was born December 10, 1750, 
in Hebron, Connecticut. He was of Puritan descent : his 
ancestors were noble ones, for the blood of the Pilgrims ran 
in their veins, and the love of the Pilgrims' God burned in 
their hearts. His great-grandfather, Josiah Mack, came 
from Scotland, and settled in Lyme, Connecticut; his 
grandfather. Deacon Josiah Mack, removed from Lyme to 
Hebron ; his father, Elisha Mack, followed his son David 
from Hebron to Middlefield, not long to enjoy his new 
home, being suddenly killed in the fifty-sixth year of his 
age. Colonel Mack's mother was Mary Ellis, daughter of 
John Ellis, of Sandwich, Massachusetts, who died in 1819, 
aged eighty-six. His wife was Mary, daughter of John 
and Abigail Talcott, to whom he was married April 24, 
1774. She was born in Hebron, and died in Middlefield, 
July 11, 1827, at the age of seventy years. These all had 
not only the names of the ancient worthies, but like them 
they lived and " died in faith," satisfied with long life, 
and blessed with the heritage of the Lord — a numerous 
posterity. Colonel Mack and his wife had each fifteen 
brothers and sisters ; and Jabez Ellis, his maternal uncle, 
lived till he was one hundred years and forty days old, and 
was connected with his wife in marriage seventy-six years ! 

In those days, family government had not changed 
hands : children were subject to their parents. But not so 
all . there were some who, like the sons of Eli, made them- 
selves vile and were not restrained ; and it was among such 
that Colonel Mack was situated in his youth. But his 
parents prevented him from running to the same excess of 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. . 3 

riot. They absolutely debarred him from attending the 
fairs, horse-races, dances, and other amusements in which 
his neighbors freely indulged. And when David — feeling, 
as he did, that this separating him from all associates was 
unreasonable and unjust — ventured to remonstrate with his 
father, as they were together in the field, the reply of the 
good man was, " My son, I do this to save you from ruin ; 
for mark me, those young men will assuredly come to a 
bad end." This prophetic speech was sadly and literally 
fulfilled : three of them expiated their crimes on the gal- 
lows, others were sent to the state prison, and all came to 
a lamentable and disgraceful end. Companions of fools, 
they were destroyed. 

Not so with him who was trained in the way he should 
go, and did not depart from it when he was old. He 
honored his father and mother, and his days were long in 
the land which the Lord gave him ; and that too, notwith- 
standing imminent exposure to death. 

As he removed his family from Hebron to Middlefield, 
in crossing the river at Norwich, the unexpectedly high 
water swept them rapidly down the current to the point of 
being carried over the dam ; when looking for death^ and 
the spectators giving them up for lost, Providence, at the 
moment of despair, ordered a way for their escape safe to 
land. 

Afterwards, as he was hunting in the deep snows in 
pursuit of a large deer, the animal suddenly turned on him, 
pressed its antlers against his breast, and set its fore feet on 
both his snow-shoes, holding him fast; and thus crippled, 
it was with difficulty that he got in hand his hunting-knife, 
and with his utmost remaining strength drew it across the 
deer's throat ; when the animal struck him with the hind 
foot a terrible blow upon one of his temples, which com- 
pletely stunned, and almost killed him. As near as 
he could judge, he lay senseless about an hour. On re- 
covering, his iival thought was, " I am dead !" but rising 



4 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

up, he found that the deer was dead, and lying prostrate at 
his feet. 

Thus was Le delivered out of his distresses, that he 
might serve his generation by the will of God, and that God 
might fulfil the promise of long life to one who honored his 
parents, not only while they lived, but long after they had 
departed this life. " He once desired me," says his min- 
ister,* " to go with him to the graves of his father and 
mother, for which he had just obtained new monuments. 
As we stood there, I said to him, ' You seem by this act 
to renew their memory, as if they had died but yesterday.' 
' Yes,' said he, ' I wish to do all I can, while I live, to 
honor the name of my father and mother. But for them, I 
should have been a poor wretched outcast upon the earth.' 
And the old man of ninety years, in the full possession of 
his faculties, shook with emotion and wept like a child." 
Blessed are the parents who, more than half a century 
after their death, can draw such a tribute from an aged 
son. Their names are not widely known on the earth, nor 
need they be ; it is enough that they sit down with Abra- 
ham, the father of the faithful, and Isaac and Jacob, in the 
kingdom of God. 

And not only did Colonel Mack honor his parents : "he 
rose up before the hoary head, and honored the face of the 
old man." While yet a youth, an aged man of choleric 
temper had, from some unknown cause, contracted towards 
him a strong dislike. Meeting him one day, Mr. Mack sa- 
luted him respectfully, but received only the unkind reply, 
" Don't speak to me." " I shall speak to you," said he, 
" for I have always been accustomed to respect age, and I 
always intend to do it." This changed his churlishness 
towards him ever after into civility ; thus exemplifying the 

* Reverend Edward Clarke, to whose sermon delivered at Colonel 
Mack's funeral, we are indebted for a number of facts embodied in this 
sketch. 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 5 

truth, that "A soft answer turneth away wrath." It may- 
be remarked in passing, that this respect for his parents and 
the aged was a result of parental fidelity. They were 
obedient to their Heavenly Father, and reverenced tlie 
" Ancient of Days " in securing the obedience and rever- 
ence of their son ; and they who honor me, saith God, will 
I honor. 

The son, thus faithfully dealt with, was in his turn 
faithful in all his house. He too ruled well, having his 
children in subjection. " My father," says one of them, 
" excelled in government. He never inflicted punishment 
without fully setting forth the criminality of the offence 
and its evil consequences, calmly and coolly, without 
excitement or passion ; but he did not desist till there was 
a perfect yielding, a full confession and promise of amend- 
ment ; and would often add, ' It is because I love you that 
I punish.' " No doubt it was, for " he that spareth the rod 
hateth his son, but he who loveth him chasteneth him 
betimes." 

" We were," he continues, " kept in on the Sabbath, 
and taught the catechism, and had other religious instruc- 
tion, which he faithfully imparted. He never allowed his 
children to be absent in the evening without his permission, 
and he required their return by nine o'clock. And not 
only did he command his children, but his household. He 
had for several years twenty or more in his family in the 
summer ; and in the most hurrying time of business he in- 
sisted that all under his care should be present at family 
devotions, and attend public worship on the Sabbath. If 
a hired man persisted in using profane language, he dis- 
missed him. 

Such fidelity in the stewardship God crowned with his 
blessing. He gave him thirteen children, three sons and 
ten daughters, all of whom lived to be married, and twelve 
of them became members of the church of Christ. They 
are honored of God and their country, and their cliildrcn 

VOL. XII. 11* 



li THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

in their turn are rising up and calling them blessed. His 
descendants, living and dead, were, at the time of his 
decease, about two hundred : there were eight or ten of the 
fifth generation, his grandchildren's grandchildren, 

These, as well as his other relatives, he regarded as a 
high trust concerning which God would require an account 
of his stewardship. For their temporal and spiritual wel- 
fare he labored, prayed, and counselled. As evidence of 
this, and of his general Christian character, a few extracts 
will here be given from letters written in the later period 
of his life ; for he brought forth fruit in old age. 

Writing to a child, December 10, 1824, he says, " By 
the grace of God, I have been carried through the various 
stages of manhood, and am this day seventy-four years old. 
I have set apart this day for prayer, and have been reading 
tlie forty-second Psalm. I have enjoyed in some measure 
the light of God's countenance. O, it is good to draw nigh 
to God, for he has styled himself a prayer-hearing God ; 
and never said to the seed of Jacob, seek my face in vain." 

" December 12, Lord's Day. I had great desire to enjoy 
the light of God's countenance, for which I attempted to 
pray ; and I think my poor feeble attempts were not in 
vain. My enjoyment continued through the day and 
evening. Thanks to Almighty God, that he can subdue 
the hardest heart, and bring such sinful rebels as T am to 
bow before him. When I look back on my life, and see 
how I have lived more than forty years since I experienced 
religion, if indeed I ever did, I have reason to blush and be 
ashamed, and repent in dust and ashes. I feel that I have 
more reason to be thankful to God than any of the sinful 
race. If he should see fit to continue me in life, my prayer 
to him is, that he would make me more faithful in his 
service, and that the remainder of my days may be filled 
up with duty and usefulness to God and man." 

In 1832, he writes, "Alas! my dear children, wiih 
shame and confusion of face I am often confessing before 



THE FAITHFUL STEWAFtD. 7 

the throne of grace, that when I would do good evil is pres- 
ent with me ; that while I delight in the law after the inner 
man, I am so drawn aside by my indwelling corruptions, 
the snares of the world, and Satan's temptations, that were 
it not for a strong belief that I have an advocate with the 
Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, who is the propitiation 
for our sins and the sins of the whole world, I could have 
no confidence towards God, being condemned by my own 
heart. In short, I can do no other than allow that all my 
best services are defiled with sin, and need to be washed in 
that fountain which the Lord has opened for sin and un- 
cleanness." 

In 1835, he w^rote to a brother: "For many years I 
have thought much on the importance of being prepared for 
death ; but it appears to me that during the last year I have 
grown more in the knowledge of Christ than in any previ- 
ous year of my life. I can say in my most favored mo- 
ments, I knoio him, I love him, / am his, and he is mine. 
No name awakens such tender and interesting feelings in 
my mind as his ; nor is there any being in the universe 
whom I so much delight to honor, or desire to see. And 
why should it not be so ? We are under greater obliga- 
tions to him than to all the world besides. We have'moro 
to do with him every day of our lives than with any other 
being in the universe. No being in heaven is so much be- 
loved as he is ; none has manifested such love towards us 
as he has. No wonder that our heart and flesh should cry 
out for him. 

" My dear brother, if you and I are what we profess to 
be, we shall in a short time be with him, where he is, to 
behold his glory which he had with the Father before the 
world was. Although my health is good, my reason tells me 
the time I have to stay here is short. I often look over my 
life, to see if I have done anything on which I could place 
the least dependence, viewing it as righteous in the sight of 
a holy God ; but comparing my life with his holy word, I 



8 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

am constrained to say, that in all things I have come sliort 
of my duty. I have nowhere to go but to God through- 
Christ, and plead for mercy in his name." 

Again he writes, December 10, 1835 : " My dear chil- 
dren, I am this day eighty-five years old. I have spent 
most of the day in calling to mind the numerous blessings 
of which God, in his holy providence, has made me the un- 
worthy partaker, and in reading and meditating upon the 
25th and 29th chapters of Genesis, the 34th chapter of 
Exodus, 32d of Deuteronomy, and the two last chapters of 
Joshua. I enjoy good health, and have attended meeting 
every Sabbath this season. When I call to mind what God 
has done for me, and what miserable improvement I have 
made of his numerous mercies, I have great reason to be 
humbled before him." 

"December 31. In the good providence of God, I am 
brought to the close of another year. There is no closing 
year in eternity. The solemn influence of this season is 
among the means of grace connected with a probationary 
state. Before the close of another year the writer, or the 
reader of these lines, may be where all such influences 
will cease, and leave them to the unchanging retributions 
of eternity. The Spirit of God will strive mightily with 
many at this solemn season. As we look back on time 
from another world, we shall find that every such oppor- 
tunity of religious impression was designed to bring us to 
repentance. The history of another year of probation for 
eternity is about to be sealed up for the judgment. The 
glass that marks off* another precious portion of our state of 
trial is about to be turned. It may be, that many will re- 
member this closing season in eternity, as the period when 
the Spirit of God was resisted for the last time, and took 
Ills everlasting flight. 

'' My dear children, it becomes you and me faithfully to 
examine the foundation of our hope, and see to it, that we 
are not deceived ; that when God shall call us hence we 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 9 

ma}- be prepared for the summons ; our work done, and 
well done, for which ' the time is short.' " 

"January 1, 1836. 1 have been loudly admonished the 
year past by the deaths of many aged friends. They have 
fallen on my right hand and on my left. I am the oldest 
man in town — there is not one living who was here when I 
came. In one sense I am almost alone ; in another, I am 
not alone. I enjoy the presence and smiles of my Saviour 
in my room, which is the best of company. I have great 
enjoyment on the Sabbath in going to the house of God, in 
hearing the Gospel, and in visiting my Christian friends on 
week days. If I am not deceived, my evidences for hea- 
ven are brighter, and my faith stronger, as I advance in 
life. Yet many times I see myself to be so great a sinner, 
it seems impossible I should be of that happy number whose 
sins are forgiven. And yet I do not despair of mercy on 
account of the greatness of my sins, for I firmly believe that 
the atonement which Christ has made is sufficient to atone 
for my sins and for the sins of the whole world. He 'came 
not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance,' such as 
feel themselves to be sinners, old sinners. ^^ 

In 1836, he thus addressed his grandchildren. " My 
dear and much esteemed grandchildren : God, in his holy 
providence, has lengthened out my unprofitable life much 
longer than I expected. He has bestowed upon me many 
blessings. My health is as good as it ever was. I can 
read with spectacles, and some without. My hearing is 
perfect. Although my health is good, my reason tells me 
I have but a short time to stay in this world of trouble and 
sin. May I so live, that when God calls me home to be 
here no more, I may be found watching, and enabled, 
through grace in Christ Jesus, to give up joyfully my spirit 
to him who gave it. 

" It is uncertain whether you will ever hear from your 
aged grandfather again in this way ; will you therefore, my 
dear grandchildren, allow me to give you a few words of 



10 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

advice ? I have great concern for your temporal and spiri- 
tual good ; and knowing, as I do from experience, how lia-. 
ble young people are to go astray from the commands of 
God into forbidden paths, I would warn you of your danger. 
May you not be tempted to sin ; or if tempted, may you be 
supported and delivered, and be kept from the vanities and 
sensualities of this evil world. 'Hear counsel and receive 
instruction, that thou mayest be wise in thy latter end.^ 
Be careful what company you associate with, for such will 
be your character. ' He that walketh with wise men shall be 
wise, but the companion of fools shall be destroyed.' ' The 
beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water, there- 
fore leave off contention before it be meddled with.' ' He 
that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great 
waster;' therefore be industrious in some honest calling. 

"Never marry for riches or beauty, for ' beauty is vain,' 
and ' riches take to themselves wings and fly away.' Ex- 
ercise judgment. Be well acquainted with the temper and 
disposition of your intended bosom friend before you decide. 
Lay hand suddenly on no one. When you commence 
housekeeping, be careful to erect the family altar. If you 
are blessed with children, and desire that they may be a 
blessing to you, do your duty faithfully to them ; pray 
with and for them ; train them up for God. 

" Let me enjoin it upon you, as an incumbent duty, often 
to read your Bible, with prayer to God for a right under- 
standing of what you read. It is of infinite importance that 
we understand the truths contained in that holy book, for 
by them we must be judged at the last day, and by a Judge 
that cannot be deceived. ' Remember the Sabbath day to 
keep it holy.' Be always ready to do your part in sup- 
porting the Gospel. The man who is not willing to sup- 
port the Gospel, cannot with propriety be called a good 
member of society. ' Despise not the poor because he is 
poor.' The great object of our existence is to glorify God, 
m whom we live and have our being, and who bestows all 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. . 11 

our comforts. Take heed that you faithfully perform all 
the duties and business of life from a regard to his com- 
mands and with reference to his glory. We are placed in 
this world to labor for him, (not to become rich and great,) 
and to do all the good we can. Let it be your aim to have 
the glory of God as your ultimate end in all you do, that 
you may answer the end of your creation. I should be 
glad once more to see you all, but I do not expect to. I 
desire to commit you to, and leave you with, the Father of 
all mercies and God of all grace. 

" That you may be directed safely through an evil world 
to God's heavenly kingdom, is the sincere prayer of your 
aged grandfather, David Mack." 

By such counsels as these, and a corresponding ex- 
ample, and fervent prayers, he was a faithful steward in 
the care of the children which God gave him, and also of 
his children's children ; and this labor was not in vain in 
the Lord, for most of his grandchildren are hopefully pious. 
How great his reward on earth, and in heaven ! " Well 
done, good and faithful." 

Not only was Colonel Mack a patriarch in the family 
relation ; he was a prince among the people. His active 
piety was allied to that knowledge which is power ; and 
in the improvement of his mind we see the fidelity of the 
steward. His early advantages were very limited, for pre- 
vious to his marriage he had been to school but six weeks. 
He once expostulated with his father, because he did not 
give him more opportunity to attend school. His father re- 
plied, " David, I never went to school but three weeks in 
my life ; you have been six, and ought to be satisfied !" 
But this did not satisfy him. He afterwards went to the 
common school of those days with his own children. His 
eldest son, the Honorable David Mack, of Amherst, Massa- 
chusetts, was six years old when he went to school with his 
father and spelled in the same class. And he often exulted, 



12 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

in true childish emulation, when he was able to get above 
liis father in spelling. 

Thus improving his mind, Colonel Mack made his one 
talent ten ; he increased in understanding, for he laid fast 
nold of instruction. He became wise and walked with wise 
men. He kept along with the progress of the times. He was 
a friend and patron of learning, and gave large sums in aid 
of public seminaries. He assisted indigent young men in 
their studies, and offered his three sons a liberal education. 
Two of them were obliged to relinquish their studies in con- 
sequence of the failure of their health ; the third, Honorable 
Elisha Mack, of Salem, graduated at Williams' College. In 
all this, faithful over a little, God made him ruler over much. 

With the improvement of his intellectual powers there 
came another talent. Influence idth others. This reward of 
well-doing he employed as a fresh trust faithfully to be used. 
A clergyman who knew him well, remarked, " Colonel Mack 
hi one of the most perfect examples of nature's noblemen : 
having surmounted all obstacles to his advancement in life, 
he combines the most far-seeing sagacity, with the greatest 
amount of practical wisdom, and all guided and controlled 
by elevated and incorruptible principle." 

His life is identified with the entire history of the town 
m which he lived ; in his prime he was prominent in all its 
public affairs, constantly filling some office of trust and 
honor, as selectman, assessor, justice of the peace, repre- 
sentative to the Legislature, colonel of the militia, and dea- 
con of the church. To this last office he was early ap- 
pointed, and served in it acceptably until he resigned at 
seventy-five years of age. 

With his military honors there is connected an incident 
which illustrates his patriotism, decision, and magnanimity. 
At the time of " Shay's insurrection," he was captain of a 
company of militia, and a requisition was sent to him to 
appear in Springfield with a certain number of men, and 
join the governmental force. He accordingly drafted his 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 13 

men, and gave orders for their appearance next morning 
prepared to march. But in the mean time the company- 
met, appointed new officers, and declared in favor of the 
Insurgents ; they surrounded and entered his house, declar- 
ing him to be "a prisoner of war." Captain Mack con- 
ducted himself with his usual self-possession. After exert- 
ing himself to the utmost to persuade them to desist from 
their course of folly and treason, he asked for a furlough 
of three days, which they granted. At their request he 
wrote it, and having secured the signatures of the newly 
appointed officers, he put the document in his pocket and 
hastened to Springfield, repaired to head-quarters, presented 
himself to General Shepard, and exhibited his furlough. 
After examining it, the general said, " Captain Mack, as you 
have no men to fight with you, you may go home : we shall 
attend to the men who have signed this paper." And this 
the general did, by lodging them in Northampton jail, where 
in their distress they earnestly and humbly besought Captain 
Mack to use his influence in procuring their release. With 
a magnanimity which delights in blessing enemies, he ex- 
erted himself in their behalf, and secured their pardon. 

It was principally by his agency that Middlefield was 
incorporated into a tovv^n, the advantages of which were 
from the first foreseen by him. Having obtained a knowl- 
edge of the region while hunting, and defined the bound- 
aries for a new town, he called a meeting of the citizens to 
consider the matter. They approved the object, but dreaded 
the expense and the opposition of the interested towns. He 
told them he would undertake the business : if successful, 
they should defray the expenses ; if he failed, the loss 
should be his own. They consented, and he succeeded. 
The act of incorporation was granted March 12, 1783. 
It was also mainly through his agency that the meeting- 
house was erected, in 1791. Previous to this, religious 
meetings were held in his barn and large chambers of his 
house, and town meetings in his kitchen. He occupied the 

VOL. xir, 12 



14 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

pew in which he was first seated, fifty-four years, during 
which period more than thirty, who were at different times 
his seat-mates, deceased. 

He attended constantly on divine worship. He was not 
afraid of the snow and vapor, the stormy wind, rain, or dis- 
tance ; and obstacles which would keep at home two-thirds 
of a congregation of common Christians in the prime of life, 
were no impediment to him at fourscore years and ten, a 
period when even "the grasshopper is a burden." But 
" love knows no burden," and hence it was easy for him to 
go to the house of the Lord, for he " loved the gates of Zion 
more than all the dwellings of Jacob." The Lord, his trea- 
sure, was there — his heart was with his treasure, and his 
body went with his heart. He was glad to go; he was 
joyful in God's house ; he sat there with great delight, and 
the preaching seemed better and better. This is the secret 
of being always able to go to church ; while it is no secret 
at all, that those who are easily discouraged because of tlie 
way, are the ones who have no heart for it. 

Colonel Mack had a heart for it ; and for years, until 
there was a religious society in Middlefield, he attended 
divine worship at Chester, whither he went on foot six miles 
during a great portion of the year. And in the winter's 
cold on those mountains, where God " giveth snow like 
wool and scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes," he frequently 
went with an ox-sled carrying his own and his neighbors' 
families. This occupied him from sunrise to sunset, and 
frequently longer. In all this, he was a faithful steward, 
and the "Lord of the Sabbath" gave him almost five thou- 
sand Sabbath days, to prepare for the " rest which remain- 
eth" — each one of them more precious to him than a 
thousand days in the palaces of sin. Thus he honored 
God, and God honored him with influence with others, so 
that " men gave ear unto him, and waited, and kept silence 
at his counsel." 

Another talent whicli God commits to men as his stew- 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. . 15 

ards, is wealth. This he gave to Colonel Mack ; not in 
money by inheritance to the amount of a penny, but simply 
the " power to get wealth," in a strong constitution, good 
health, a keen discernment, sound judgment, and untiring 
industry. Besides the land on which he settled, then a 
wilderness, he used facetiously to say, that when he re- 
moved to Middlefield his property consisted of a poor horse, 
an axe, and his wife and child. He purchased his land at 
Becket, in 1773, for a horse valued at forty dollars, when 
returning from his first trading adventure, which was 
among the Indians on the borders of Lake Champlain. He 
cleared two acres which he sowed to grain, and built a log- 
house in the summer of 1774, which was preparatory to his 
removal the following year ; and he said, the first crop he 
gathered was the largest he ever saw ; and that a kind Pro- 
vidence continued to srive the most bountiful returns to the 

o 

labor of his hands. 

He frequently walked six miles through the woods to 
another settlement, to do a day's work for a little money or 
meat ; and once, when he lost his way in the woods, he 
climbed a tree to avoid the bears and wolves, and there 
spent the night. While clearing his land, he returned to 
Hebron to work a month in the hay season, for ten dollars, 
an extra price for those days. 

It was six years after he began to clear his farm before 
he owned a yoke of oxen, and these he bought with the 
skins of deer which he caught in the hard winter and deep 
snows of 1780 — a winter " of which our fathers have told 
us." And then needing some iron-work to make his new 
team available, as he could not pay down and would not ask 
a stranger to trust him, he went to a blacksmith with whom 
he was acquainted, living sixty miles from his home, and set- 
lied the bill the next spring with maple sugar ; and all this 
too, when (in the time occupied for the journey) sixty miles 
were as long as, in many cases, six Imndred miles are now! 

Thus it was not much that he had to begin with ; and 



16 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

he made it, like the faithful steward, to gain five and ten ; 
and then again it was increased to hundreds and thousands in 
return for his fidelity in a little. " His root was spread out 
by the waters, and the dew lay all night on his branch." 
He was industrious, economical and faithful ; so prompt 
in the payment of his debts that no one, in any instance, 
during his long business life, called for money due from 
him without his paying it : a peculiar excellence and wor- 
thy of all imitation. 

He found that honesty was the best policy at all times 
and places, and that the only thing needful for an enterprise 
which could not prosper by integrity, was its discontinu- 
ance. He was a merchant as well as a farmer ; and he 
established many young men in the mercantile business in 
the adjacent towns. He also established in business the 
first blacksmith, the first boot and shoemaker, and the first 
saddle and harnessmaker, who followed their respective 
trades in Middlefield. It was his rule to take an account 
of stock yearly, and to keep an accurate account of each 
branch of his business ; and when any proved unproductive, 
it was relinquished. In this way, from small beginnings, 
he rose to affluence ; his basket and store were replenished, 
and his barns filled with plenty. 

And what did he do with it all 1 Did he spend it for dis- 
play, and the indulgence of vanity and pride ? No. DM 
he lay it up for his children? No. When they left the 
paternal roof he gave them a respectable outfit ; but not 
enough to make them indolent, or lax in their efforts. If 
they wanted more, like him they must labor for it. The 
rest of his property, except what he needed to support him 
in old age, was employed in objects of benevolence. 

This is the more remarkable, as in his day it was the 
custom less than now, to promote benevolent enterprises. 
In this he was, as a good steward must always be, in ad- 
vance of the times in which he lived. In large sums he 
bestowed more than eighteen thousand dollars; and his 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 17 

smaller offerings, here a little and there a little, to promote 
human welfare, are supposed to have been not less than 
eighteen thousand dollars more. He was one of the found- 
ers of the Hampshire Missionary Society ; and he made 
himself, by his contributions, a life member of twelve be- 
nevolent societies ; and, at a period when it was regarded as 
doubtful whether all the missionary societies in the country 
could support one missionary in a foreign land, he removed 
that doubt by a donation of one thousand dollars, which at 
that time was an almost unparalleled act of liberality. 

In his charities he sought not the praise of men ; he im- 
parted from love to Christ and the souls for whom Christ 
died : he remembered how the Lord Jesus had said, " It is 
more blessed to give than to receive." He did it because 
he wished to be a faithful steward, both in doing good to 
those who are far off, and to those who are nigh. 

He aided very many young persons in attending school, 
and others in acquiring a liberal education. He was fond 
of distributing Tracts when travelling, and within a few 
years circulated many volumes of the Evangelical Family 
Library. In the year 1814, he presented each of his chil- 
dren with a set of Scott's Family Bible, which cost him 
three hundred and sixty dollars. He left for the cKurch 
and society of which he had so long been a member, a fund 
of three thousand dollars for the support of the Gospel in 
all coming time. 

He made two wills at an interval of twenty-eight years, 
in which of course he appointed another as the executor, 
but he lived to be his own executor, paying his bequests, 
and settling his accounts to the uttermost farthing ; so that, 
in fulfilling his last testament, nothing remained to be 
looked after when he was gone, but his wearing apparel, 
the large Bible, Scott's Family Bible, a Psalm Book, the 
case in which he had kept them, and the spectacles with 
which he had read them. Not a pound — no, not a penny, 
has been found hid in the earth or laid up in a napkin. 

VOL. XII. 12* 



18 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

Such is a brief view of his stewardship in the use of 
his Lord's money. He obeyed the command, " Occupy 
till I come." He was not weary in well-doing ; but was 
steadfast, abounding unto the end. The writer of this 
recollects hearing him say, not long before his death, to a 
merchant who thought of buying his wool, " You must 
give me for it what it is worth, for, if you do not, you will 
defraud the Lord ; it is his, and what I receive for it is to 
be placed in his treasury." 

It is refreshing to find a man in this lost and selfish 
world with a just and generous heart. It is delightful to 
find among the stewards of God, as all men are, one who 
feels the force of that relation, bows to its claims, fulfils its 
duties, and receives the crown of the faithful. We rejoice 
that so many of the dead leave behind them a blessed me- 
morial ; that light gilds their track, and that we may speak 
of them as being in heaven, with the feeling that they are 
in their appropriate sphere. " Well done, good and faith- 
ful servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few things, 
I will make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into 
the joy of thy Lord." What a gracious and glorious re- 
ward ! 

Colonel Mack was not too faithful. He did not do too 
much for the Saviour who died for him. He felt that he 
had done too little, that he merited nothing, that he was 
saved by grace. His hope was in Christ, and in him alone. 
This is evident from his letters already noticed, and the 
same feeling attended him till he finished his course. 

His eldest son, speaking of a visit made him a year or 
two before his departure, says, " As I was about to take 
leave of him, he took me by the hand and said, ' My son, I 
may never see you again in this world. I wish you to 
pray much for me, but do not pray that I may live any 
longer. I have lived long enough in this wicked world.' 
I asked him if he felt prepared to die ? 'I think I do ; I 
have no righteousness of my own ; it would be just in God 



THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. - 19 

to cast me off forever. If I ever get to heaven, it will be 
through the atonement that Christ has made.' 

" At that interview he said, ' The Scriptures never 
appeared so precious as they now do. Every sermon our 
minister preaches is better and better. The society of 
Christian friends was never so precious. It seems a great 
part of the time that the Saviour is with me in my room, 
and communion with him is delightful. I have great en- 
joyment in my bed ; when I awake in the night my Saviour 
is precious to me. I have not for a long time allowed my- 
self to close my eyes in sleep, until my mind was in such 
a frame as I was willing to awake with in eternity.' He 
continued in the same state of mind most of the time until 
he died. His end was peace. He left the world, relying 
solely on the merits of Christ for acceptance with God." 

Such is a brief and imperfect sketch of a steward " found 
faithful ;" a man remarkable for a pious and venerable 
ancestry ; early trained in the way he should go ; him- 
self ruling well, and religiously instructing his children, 
and others under his care ; improving his mind, with almost 
no instruction, till he became wiser than his teachers ; from 
nothing to begin with, accumulating an estate, and at the 
same time quietly dispensing it like the light and the dew — 
thousands on thousands in the broad deep river, and in the 
small rain on the tender herb ; owing no man anything but 
love, (unless others preferred that he should be in their 
debt,) for he never once said, " Go, and come again, and 
to-morrow I will give," when he had it by him. His 
policy was honesty ; and his integrity firmer than the gra- 
nite of the mountains on which he lived : that has been 
blasted and moved — his integrity never. He was a man of 
stability, always in his place every day, as he was on the 
Sabbath day, for fifty-four years, regularly in the same pew 
in the house' of God ! 

And after all was done, his hope was in Christ alone 
He felt himself to be nothing but a sinner saved by grace ; 



20 THE FAITHFUL STEWARD. 

and like Paul, preeminent among sinners so saved, as being 
chief. His days were prolonged, not only while a thou- 
sand fell at his side, and ten tnousand at his right hand, but 
while twenty-five hundred millions of our race died ! 

He lived till satisfied with long life. When his pastor 
asked him near its close, if his life seemed short, he did 
not say, like Jacob, " Few and evil have the days of the 
years of my life been," but he said, " When I look at my 
life, taken as a whole it seems short, like a handbreath 
before me ; but when I look at the gradual and astonishing 
changes which have taken place, and when I trace them 
from the commencement to the great result, and when I 
look at my posterity, my children's children, I almost feel 
that I have lived forever !" 

Though his hearing was yet perfect, and his eye 
scarcely dim, and his natural force not much abated, he 
did not wish to live longer : — his days were full, his work 
was done, he chose to depart ; " and he was not, for God 
took him." "Let me die the death of the righteous, and 
let my last end be like his." 

That it may be so, my friends, with you, live as he 
lived. Make the most of your various trusts. Save your- 
selves and your children from the way to ruin. Cultivate 
your minds. Let your influence be all on the side of 
virtue and religion. Devote your hearts and possessions to 
the service of God, and learn that the way to be stewards 
of more, is to " honor the Lord with your substance and 
the first fruits of all your increase." " Bring ye all the 
tithes into the store-house, and prove me herewith, saith 
the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of 
heaven, and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be 
room enough to receive it. And ye shall be mine, saith 
tne Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels !" 

THE END. 



]Vo. 488, 



DIVINE GRACE ILLUSTIIATED, 



I FIRST became acquainted with Mr. G in 1840. 

He was at the head of a numerous and interesting family : 
a professed Universalist, a gambler, a drunkard, and awfully 
profane. He kept a large and splendid hotel in one of the 
county-towns in Pennsylvania. Circumstances led him to 
quit the public-house and the vending of intoxicating drinks, 
and engage industriously in mechanical business. In a re- 
vival of religion which occurred in the village during the 
spring of 1842, he and his excellent lady were hopefully con- 
verted. In a few months they publicly professed Christ, 
and in the presence of many witnesses were received into the 
church then under my care. The occasion was one of deep 
interest to the numerous audience, especially as they were 
well acquainted with his former character. 

Previous to his being awakened, he treated the Bible with 
levity, and Christians with marked rudeness. As a friend 

and neighbor, I called to see the family when Mrs. G 

was evidently in a degree serious. The conversation t(?ok a 
religious turn. He was rude and insulting, while I expressed 
a trembling solicitude for his soul, and the fear that it Avould 
be lost — lost for ever. In reply to her inquiries respecting 
the interview, he afterwards said to his lady, " I thought I 
would try and get him angry." 

Soon after that visit, Mrs. G became more anxious 

for her salvation, and found peace in believing. Such was 
her joy, and such the preciousness of Christ to her, that she 
could not refrain from speaking even to him of the exquisite 
happiness she found in her Saviour ; and as he came in one 
day, she exclaimed, " Oh, Mr. G , I have found the Sav- 
iour precious to my soul I" This was uttered with all the 
emotion of a, bursting heart in its first love. He replied, 
" Have you ? I am glad of it." He took his seat, and sul- 
lenly said within himself, " Ah, I'll soon bring her about." 

As he returned to his business, he reflected upon the sen- 



2 DIVINE GRACE ILLUSTRATED. 

timent, " Ah, I'll soon bring her' about ;" and a feeling of 
self-condemnation, and even hoiror, came over his mind. His 
conviction of sin was truly pungent. A few days passed by. 
His wife felt that their neglected family must be called to- 
gether for worship, and taking the opportunity when all were 
present, she proposed the subject to Mr. Gr . The aston- 
ished and affected group were seated, and she read a chap- 
ter and expressed a wish that he would lead in prayer. The 
I'amily bowed, and amid unutterable emotion and flowing 

tears, Mr. G offered supplications to that God whose 

name he had so often and so awfully profaned. Still, his 
anxious mind found no comfort. He studied the Bible, and 
prayed in secret. His mind was filled with anguish Mdien 
he thought of the past, the present, and the future. 

He went to meeting and listened to the Gospel, and on 
one occasion, opportunity being given for any one who might 
M'ish to speak, he arose, and with quivering lips and trem- 
bling voice, addressed the crowded audience to this effect : 
" Friends and neighbors, I fear that my day of grace is past. 
Oh what a sinner I have been. But if there is no hope for 
me, I would entreat you to attend to religion and prepare to 
meet God. Oh be in earnest to secure salvation." This 
was said with deep emotion and solemnity, and it came with 
peculiar power. 

Soon after that memorable meeting, Mr. G found a 

calm and sweet peace in Christ. It was marked by no 
bm-sting rapture ; but it was a deep, unostentatious love to 
God, to the Bible, to prayer, and to immortal souls. His 
life was the exhibition of a uniform, humble, all-pervading, 
amiable, decided piety. The change was w great that all 
could see, and even Universalists could not question the gen- 
uineness, sincerity, and excellence of his piet5^ 

His disposition, naturally quick and fiery, became, by the 
grace of God, truly meek and patient. In this respect the 
change was wonderful. A fierce lion and a gentle lamb 
will express the contrast in his character. During the year 
after his conversion till his death, he was an ornament to 
the church. I frequently visited him in his last sickness. 
He highly prized the society of Christians and their prayers. 
Communion with a soul so ripe for heaven, as it was about 
to spread its pinions for the upward fiightj was indeed a pre- 
cious privilege. Fully sensible that his time had arrived, he 



DIVINE GRACE ILLUSTRATED. 3 

1-ejoiced to go from this world of sin to the immediate pres- 
ence of his Redeemer above, vs^here he should awake with 
his perfect likeness. 

A little before he died, I inquired of him what were his 
feelings respecting TJniversalism. He said he never felt 
entirely satisfied with it — it was wrong — it was false. I 
learned that, previous to his conversion, he had twice pre- 
pared to take his own life. But grasping the weapon to' 
give the fatal stab, he seemed to hear a voice saying, " Stay 
thine hand, for eternal 'punishment may be a reality .'" And 
he could not commit the deed. Thus he was saved from 
ruin, and his family from the consequent agony. He ofiered 
most earnest and touching prayers in his sickness for a 
brother-in-law who was a Universalist preacher. Said he, 
" that brother P could have my feelings on this sub- 
ject." 

On the morning of his departure, he expressed a wish 
that he might see the rising sun in his bright beams before 
he should go to gaze upon the Sun of righteousness, and 
be ravished with the splendors of his noontide glories. He 

requested that Mrs. G would raise the curtain, that he 

might see the light. At first it was raised a little. He 
desired her to raise it still higher. She did so, and a strong 
light shone in upon him. " That will do," said he, and in 
a few moments he slept in death. His "day-star from on 
high," that precious hope inspired by the Gospel, went not 
down " behind the darkened w^est/' nor was it " obscured 
among the tempests of the sky." No ; but it melted " away 
into the light of heaven ;" and I trust that his soul now 
shines, a precious gem, in his Redeemer's crown. 

In conclusion, let it be distinctly noted and remembered, 
that the subject of this narrative was not frightened into 
religion, nor was he thrown into a frenzy of excitement. 
His deep emotions and thorough change of life were the 
result of a conviction of sober, momentous truth, through 
the Spirit of God. 

Others may be tempted to imbibe the sentiments which 

wellnigh brought Mr. G to a suicidal death, and from 

which he was twice rescued by an imagined voice from 
heaven, saying, " Stay thine hand, for eternal ininhhment 
may he a reality!'' But our particular desires or belief 
respecting future awards Mill not annihilate the retribution 



4 DIVINE GRACE ILLUSTRATED. 

with which a righteous God threatens the impenitent. Its 
fearful reahty is unchanged. " The soul that sinneth, it 
shall die." 

Blessed be God, salvation is freely offered, through Christ, 
to the chief of sinners. Believe on him, and thou shalt be 
saved. Oh salvation, ample, rich, glorious, eternal ! All 
who will, may take the water of life freely. And, fellow- 
immortal, have you tasted that pure stream of life and love 
issuing from the throne of mercy ? Oh, be in earnest to 
secure salvation for thy soul, thine immortal soul, compared 
with which worlds are valueless. Heaven speaks in melt- 
ing tones, saying, " Him that cometh unto me, I will in no 
wise cast out." And what, what is the response of thine 
heart ? Does it welcome a bleeding Saviour as the portion 
of thy soul ; or does thine heart turn away with cold indif- 
ference from that glorious Redeemer who is the song and 
rejoicing of all the heavenly hosts ? Ah, look upon the vic- 
tim of the cross as he is fainting, and groaning, and dying, 
for the redemption of thy soul from eternal ruin ; behold the 
sympathizing tombs bursting, rocks rending, and the heavens 
robed in mourning. And look, again, to a future judgment, 
and behold the Avorlds passing away with a great noise at 
his frown, and the elements miclting with fervent heat, and 
reflect, What wilt thou do, and how wilt thou feel, when 
HE shall make inquisition for blood ? 

But he is now on the throne of mercy, waiting to be 
gracious. And wilt thou still trifle with his authority and 
love, his compassion and grace, and destroy thy blood-bought 
soul ? If so, truly thou canst never reproach him with thy 
ruin. Nor will he alleviate the untold anguish of remorse 
which shall fill thy cup of trembling in eternity. that 
you understood this ; that you would consider your latter 
end. Look unto Jesus, who is exalted to give repentance 
and remission of sins. Believe in him, trust in his mercy, 
and obey his will, and you shall live for ever. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



J¥©. 489. 

THEEE ¥ORDS. 



Mr. F , a merchant of C county, Pennsylvania, 

was accustomed to answer all who remonstrated with him 
on the sin and danger of his ungodly life by saying, that he 
only v/anted, before death, time enough to say three words, 
Lord, have mercy! and all would be safe for eternity. A 
short time since, he was suddenly killed. He had turned a 
drunkard out of his store ; and while both were greatly ex- 
cited, partially intoxicated, and awfully profane, the drunk- 
ard seized a stone, and killed him on the spot. He breathed 
a few times after the fatal blow, but never spoke again. 
The three words which his blinded and foolish heart imag- 
ined would, like a charm, draw down the divine blessing, 
he was never permitted to utter. 

Delay is dangerous, are three words which the provi- 
dence and the book of God call on all prayerfully and se- 
riously to consider. " Boast not thyself of to-morrow." 
"Who can tell what a day may bring forth? " The night," 
the night of death " cometh, when no man can work" for 
eternity. This night you rnay die — this night the lamp of 
life may be put out. This night you may lie down on a 
bed from which you shall rise no more, till you are " carried 
out to be buried." To-day, you may "inquire of the Lord," 
and find mercy ; to-morrow, your doom may be sealed, and 
the grace you have spurned be utterly withdraAvn. It was 
the sad saying of a dying king, "I must now die before I 
begin to live." Alas, for those who, when the hand of death 
is upon them, are far from the city of refuge ; and even when 
an opportunity of uttering a cry for mercy is afforded, find, 
too late, that the grace they have abused is in justice with- 
held, and the door of mercy closed against them for ever. 
VOL. XII. 1*3 



THREE WORDS. 



As you would be happy here, and safe for eternity, be- 
ware of delaij. Say rather, "What is to-morrow, that I 
should boast of it, or trust in it ? It may perhaps be my 
neighbor's, but may never be mine. And what then ? Shall 
I suspend -heaven, eternity, the life of my soul, on an un- 
certainty? Can I lie down and sleep unconcerned another 
night, while God is my enemy ; and when I know not but 
ere to-morrow dawns, the storm of wrath may burst upon 
me ? Time enough to-morrow, to have the pollution of the 
soul washed away ? Time enough to-morrow, to seek the 
repeal of my sentence of death, when this night the exe- 
cutioner death may do his office? Awake, my soul, to 
a sense of thy danger. Plead for mercy. Flee from the 
wrath to come. The Judge standeth at the door." 

And dream not that a dying prayer, a few deeds of 
kindness to your neighbors — your charity, your morality, 
will save you. No matter to what refuge you have fled, 
or on what plea you are depending, if you have not fled 
to Jesus, and sought shelter under his blood, all, all will 
be swept away with the lost soul, when the storm of God's 
displeasure breaks on a wicked world. Your refusing to 
believe the truths of the Bible, will not make them false. 
Your refusal to believe in the coming judgment, will not 
delay its approach. Why, why, then, will you choose 
death ? You may yet escape. To-day, if you will hear his 
voice, you are safe for eternity. 0, harden not your heart. 
Sleep not another night in your sins. Their wages, their 
dreadful wages may, before to-morrow dawns, be the wind- 
ing-sheet of your soul. Woe is me for you, if, covered with 
guilt, and in danger of eternal death, you yet turn away 
from the ofler of mercy. Will you not humble yourself 
before the throne of the injured, insulted Lamb of God, and 
pray to him for your life, your soul's life ? If you will not 
plead this night for mercy ; if, after this warning in the 
name of a neglected God, you can lie down on your bed, 
without bending your knees before him, and supplicating 



THREE WORDS 3 

pardon through the blood of his Son ; then, to-morrow you 
may be left with a seared conscience, and your day of mercy 
ended — ^}^ou may be where pardon will never be found. 

But, dear reader, I hope better things of you ; and there- 
fore, in the name of that God who will judge both you and 
me, I entreat you to hear his voice, saying, " Believe the 
Gosj^el.'' Three uwch, addressed to you now from your 
Creator and Judge, before whose tribunal you must soon 
answer for the manner in which you regard them. " Be- 
lieve the Gospel," proclaiming peace and pardon by the Mes- 
siah, the eternal Son of God : believe u\ his name, rely on 
his righteousness, and receive salvation and eternal life, as 
the fruit of his purchase, and the free grace of God.* 

To obey this command of God is, to believe in the tnie 
and proper deity of the Lord Jesus Christ ; to receive him, 
and see the soul's need of him in all his offices, as our Proph- 
et, our Priest, and our King ; to see how, by his atonement, 
the claims of justice against the believing soul are blotted 
out, and the sentence of death cancelled. It is, to trust in 
him as the only Saviour ; to rely on him, as an all-sujficieiit 
Saviour, able to save to the uttermost, and his blood to 
cleanse from all sin. Acts 4:12; 1 John, 1:7; Heb. 7 : 25. 
You must rely on him as youi- oivn Saviour. A heartless 
belief that Christ died for others, will not save you. Devils 
and hypocrites have such a faith, and yet perish eternally. 
Bread \vill not nourish you, if you do not eat it. " Wine 
and milk," the blessings of salvation spread before you in 
the Gospel, will not save, if you do not yourself eat and live. 
"God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten 
Son, that ivhosoever believeth on him should not perish, but 
have everlasting life." John 3:16. 

This giving of the Son of God by the Father, in the 
offer of the Gospel, warrants you to take Jesus as your own 
Saviour, your- Lord, and your God; and to say, "He loved 
me, he gave himself for me." Yes, on the ground of this 
gift, and the offer made by the God of truth, you may con- 



4 THREE WORDS. 

fidently say, "I believe that I may thus take and appropri- 
ate Christ as my own Saviour : not because, by my repent- 
ance, or by any works of my own, I have merited this mercy ; 
but because I am poor and miserable, ready to perish, and 
far from righteousness; and because Christ declares in his 
word, that he died for stich. I believe this testimony ; I 
am perishing with hunger ; the God of mercy oflers to all 
the bread of life, and I will not 'make him a liar,' by re- 
fusing to believe that he means me. The free offer of the 
bread of life to all, is warrant to me to take it, and live for 
ever — to eat, and never die. 'Believe on the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' I take him at his word : 
I have nothing of my own to merit his favor. ' Lord, I be- 
heve ; help thou mine unbelief " 

Go to him in earnest and persevering prayer, that you 
may feel your need of an interest in Christ, and be enabled 
to cast yourself wholly on his mercy ; renouncing all de- 
pendence on your own righteousness for pardon ; fleeing from 
all other refuges, as utterly vain, to him who alone is able 
and willing to give life and relief Do you say you cannot 
ask, you cannot pray aright? The Bible tells you, yea, 
commands you to go instantly to Jesus ; to receive and rest 
on him ; and with him the Holy Spirit will be given — yea, 
faith, repentance, love, and every saving blessing. All are 
the purchase of the blood of Christ : all are free gifts — gifts, 
God for Christ's sake only will bestow — gifts, thus given for 
the asking, free as the air you breathe — free as the running 
stream. Come, then, as one utterly worthless and helpless, 
to receive salvation as the purchase of the precious blood of 
Jesus : thus come to God, through the .Son whom he spared 
not, and heaven is yours. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 4»0. 

PROCRASTINATION. 



It was in the closing week of April that I visited a man 
about thirty years of age, upon whom consumption was just 
finishing its work. '' I have sent for you," said he, " because 
time seems to be getting short with me. I suppose that I 
am a sinner, though whether worse than others, or not, I do 
not know : to be sure, I have run into almost every sin that 
a man could commit ; so I may as well confess that I am a 
great sinner. I have been confined here ever since last May, 
and now I think it is nearly over with me — so I want you 
to prepare me for death." 

" My friend," I replied, " no man can prepare you for 
death ; but God can do it. I can pray for you, but this will 
not avail you, unless you pray for yourself. Listen to me, 
then, and I will endeavor to show you what your condition 
is in the sight of God, and the only way in which you can 
obtain salvation." 

I then told him that all men have a sinful nature, and 
are wilful transgressors of the holy law of God ; that they 
are, therefore, under condemnation, and righteously degerve 
to suffer ; that it would be inconsistent with divine perfec- 
tion to pardon sin, unless such satisfaction were given as 
would magnify the law and make it honorable ; that no man 
could give such satisfaction on his own behalf, nor could it 
be given for him by another, unless he that gave it were both 
God and man ; that for the Almighty to provide a Mediator 
who should "put away sin by the sacrifice of himself," was 
an act of condescension of which man was altogether unwor- 
thy ; yet " God so loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have everlasting Hfe," and that now they who 
come to God -as guilty, condemned, ruined, and helpless sin- 
ners, casting themselves upon the merits of Christ, obtain 
forgiveness and a new heart ; and this, although their sins 
were of the deepest dye ; for " Jesus Christ is able to save, 
VOL. XII. " 13* 



2 PRUCRAtiTINATION. 

even to the uttermost, all that come unto God by liim, see- 
mg he- ever liveth to make mtercession for them." 

After endeavoring to unfold these interesting truths w^itli 
all possible simplicity and tenderness, I prayed with the sick 
man, and left him to meditate upon the things he had heard. 
The next morning he died ; and as I looked upon his lifeless 
remains, my mind was agitated by the question, "Where is 
the departed spirit ? " Man dieth and wasteth away ; yea, 
man giveth up the ghost, and where is he ?" I saw in this 
man no deep conviction of guilt, no hatred of sin, no love of 
holiness ; nothing but that desire for safety which may pro- 
ceed from dread of punishment ; and this so faint, that dur- 
ing eleven m.onths' sickness he sought no ministerial coun- 
sel, until death was knocking loudly at the door. He erred 
exceedingly : while he had health, he neglected to serve 
God, and trusted to a death-bed conversion. Was he sin- 
gular in this ? ~ 

It is the common practice of u7iconverted persons. He 
that puts off the commencement of a life of piety for any 
period, however short, puts it off until he may be on a bed 
of sickness, or even in the arms of death. Yet this is done 
by men in all their progress to the eternal world. The youth 
is admonished to remember his Creator, and he perhaps 
resolves to do it ; but he puts it off until he has finished his 
course of study. Then, fascinated by worldly pleasure, he 
puts it off until settled in life ; but he has then many cares, 
and his time is occupied ; yet he hopes soon to have more 
leisure, and then to become a Christian. But as he ad- 
vances in age, cares increase, and one postponement of this 
great work follows another, until the snow of winter falls 
upon his head, and even then he will look forward to the 
future, and hope that a death-bed conversion may suffice. 
At length he is prostrated by sickness, but it produces no 
salutary effect, and he goes on dreaming of time enough yet, 
until his spirit leaves the body, and the solemn realities of 
eternity force themselves upon his attention in all their ter- 
rific magnitude. " Procrastination is the thief of time," and 
while men thus lose their time, they lose their souls. 



rROCRASTlNATIUX. . 3 

It is unwise. The more important any affair is, the 
more prompt should be the attention given to it. But here 
is an affair, as much more important than all others as eter- 
nity is longer than time, habitually neglected, and this under 
the vain delusion that another time may be more convenient 
than the present. But depravity strengthens by age, and 
the heart grovv^s harder and less susceptible of impression, 
every hour that neglect is continued. 

It is sinful. It is withholding from God the obedience 
due to him. It is perversely adhering to the service of 
-Satan. It is criminally neglecting the great salvation that 
divine mercy has provided. By it, talents are abused, time 
is wasted, conscience is seared, the strivings of the Holy 
Spirit are resisted, guilt is increased, and wrath is treasured 
up " against the day of wrath." 

It is dangerous. How do they who thus trifle with 
divine forbearance, know that, at a future season, God will 
grant them repentance imto life ? I visited a young man 
whose days were evidently drawing to a close, but he mis- 
took the shades of evening for passing clouds ; and when 
urged to spend his few remaining hours in preparing to meet 
his God, replied, " You suppose that I shall die ; but I shall 
recover, and there is time enough yet." About forty-eight 
hours afterwards he was sitting in an easy-chair, when his 
friends noticed a change in his appearance, and prepared to 
lay him on a bed. While thus employed, one of them asked 
him if he was prepared to die. He answered, "No," and it 
was his last word, for he died in their arms. I have visited 
persons in the flower of their days who have been infatuated 
by the like delusion, and died in a similar manner. Often 
have I visited the aged when about to die, and found that 
the habit of putting off was never more strong than then. 
Often have I visited the sick of different ages, and found 
them so insensible that they could neither converse nor unite 
in prayer ; and often in that precarious state, in which call- 
ing their attention to any subject was strictly forbidden by 
their medical attendants. 

Why do men act thus ? Not because religion is a hard 



4 PROCRASTINATION, 

service, for the yoke of Christ is easy, and his burden is 
light ; not because it is gloomy, for its ways are pleasant- 
ness, and its paths are peace. Nor is it because God will 
not requite such conduct ; for, upon those that persevere in 
neglecting salvation, he will, most assuredly, execute that 
sentence, " Because they hated knowledge, and did not choose 
the fear of the Lord ; they would none of my counsel ; they 
despised all my reproof ; therefore shall they eat of the fruit 
of their own way, and be filled with their own devices." 
No : the reason why they act thus is, " the carnal mind is 
enmity against God," and that is the mind by which they 
are influenced. 

What aivaits them ? They love not holiness, but perse- 
veringly avoid it. Death will not reverse this state of mind, 
for then they that are holy will be holy still, and they that 
are unholy will be unholy still. In eternity, therefore, they 
cannot enjoy the society of God, or angels, or glorified spirits, 
for all these are holy ; nor can heaven be their home, for its 
atmosphere is holy, and utterly uncongenial to their spirits. 
Holiness and happiness are inseparable, and so are their op- 
posites. Unholy souls, therefore, must necessarily be driven 
away in their wickedness, far from God, far from happiness, 
and far from hope ; while the reflection that they have been 
their own destroyers, will for ever add intensity to their 
sorrows. 

Dear reader, What are you doing ? Have you experi- 
enced that change of heart, without which you cannot en- 
ter the kingdom of heaven ? If not, hazard no longer your 
eternal safety. Hepent and be converted to-day, for to-day 
you may be saved. But delay not till to-morrow, for the 
Bible contains no promise that God will save you then. 

" Behold, now is the accepted time ; behold, now is the 
day of salvation."' 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETV. 



Wfo. 491. 

DANCING, 

AS 

A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 



"Good-will towards men" is the distinctive and love- 
liest feature of the Gospel. Its original is far back in the 
bosom of eternal love. Its brightest illustration was seen in 
the life and death of Him who " is the image of the invisi- 
ble God." Its impress is upon every Christian heart, and 
that alone is truly a Christian life which exhibits it. 

Natural religion, or pagan philosophy even, may require 
and forbid, to a limited extent, the same as the Gospel. 
But from this, their highest common level, rises clear and 
shining, as the golden tower from the dark, massive wall, 
the distinctive trait of our religion. A peculiar tenderness 
of regard to the welfare of others, distinguishes the religion 
of the Gospel from all other religions, and the true from the 
false disciple. When this feature is seen, the glory of the 
Gospel appears. When it is obscured, our religion, shorn of 
its peculiar excellence, sinks undistinguished in the darkness 
of false religions. Hence the frequency and earnestness with 
which the precepts of the Gospel harmonizing with this 
peculiarity, are urged. 

" Abstain from all ajypearance of evil,'' is one of them. 
Other religions may enjoin abstinence from evil : the Gos- 
pel, in the fulness of its " good- will towards men," requires 
us to abstain from the a'p'pearance of it. Actual evil will 
injure ourselves ; the appearance of it may injure others. 
Selfishness may restrain from self-injury ; but in the self- 
denial of avoiding what might otherwise be proper, lest the 
appearance may injure another, is the purest benevolence. 
And the moment the Christian life fails to exhibit this, it is 



2 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

lowered from its heavenly elevation to that of the mere 
moralist ; the brightest gem is struck from the Saviour's 
crown, and the Gospel is presented to the world stripped of 
its distinguishing excellence. 

" Giving no offence in miy thing''' is a connected pre- 
cept, pointing only to another development of " good-will 
towards men." But it is one of the most lovely and im- 
portant. So close is the sympathy between Christian hearts, 
so pure and delicate the bonds which unite them, that he 
who touches them rudely, feels the vibration of sadness in 
his own bosom. No appeal so tests the genuineness of a 
Christian spirit, as that which comes from a brother beloved, 
yet grieved by us. And in no way is the religion of the 
Gospel exhibited in its surpassing excellence, more than by 
the carefulness it enjoins to avoid " offence in any tiling T 
Though "it must needs be that offences come," yet Christ 
sealed up the history of a false disciple by the solemn denun- 
ciation, "Woe to him by whom the oflence cometh." 

" Let your light so shi?ie,'' is another gospel precept laid 
along the whole Christian life, touching it at every point. 
So perversely susceptible is the impenitent heart to impres- 
sions against religion, so easily are its prejudices against those 
who profess it awakened, that the life cannot be too carefully 
guarded. Eveiy eye is fixed upon it. As he who holds a 
torch is distinctly seen by the crowd who stand at a distance 
in darkness, so in him who is robed in a luminous profession, 
every movement is noticed. By it irreligious men will be 
drawn to Christ, or repelled from him. Hence the earnest 
injunction, "Let your light so shine before men." It is for 
the good of those who behold. Every ray of it is to be 
directed to this single result, that they may '^glorify your 
Father which is in heaven r 

What these precepts require, is just what the spirit of 
this world will not do. It will seek its own. Nothing save 
the spirit of Christ, in himself, or in the renewed heart, will 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. . 3 

.Jjreathe such tender and self-denying regard for the feelings 
iand welfare of others. But how brightly it shone in him. 
Never did he offend the pious sensibihties of the humblest 
disciple. Never did his example lead astray, or peril the 
soul even of his bitterest enemy. 

How the same spirit illumined the life of Paul. When 
the question of eating things offered to idols arose, yielding 
personal rights, convenience, and gratification, how promptly 
did he say, " If meat make my brother to offend, I will eat 
no flesh while the world standeth." Though it was not, in 
his estimation, in itself sinful, yet like his Master, " he 
pleased not himself," lest he should "hinder the Gospel of 
Christ." He would " abstain from the appearance of evil," 
would .give "no offence in any thing ;" and would and did 
let his "light so shme before men," as to evince the sincerity 
of his "heart's desire and prayer to God," that they might 
be saved. 

Fellow-Christian, will you ponder these precepts of the 
religion you profess, and then follow me in the inquiry, 
whether the practice of dancing, by church-members, is 
consistent with the life of " holy conversation and godliness" 
they require. 

1. Has it the '' appearance of evil V To this there can 
be but one honest reply. There is a remarkable confession 
made by those who advocate the amusement of dancing, 
when they plead that it is wo\ in iUelf q\SS.. That it has 
the appearance of it, is virtually admitted, in the very plea 
that it is in appearance only. Let this, then, its main de- 
fence, be admitted to the full : still, does there not remain, 
unjustified, the very thing which the spirit and letter of the 
gospel precept forbids ? Why do Christians feel misgivings 
in the indulgence ? Why shrink from the public gaze ? Is 
there not herein the unspoken confession of an apparent in- 
consistency ? 

Take God's word in your hand as you go, and read, 



4 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

"Be not conformed to tliis world." Then enter the low 
haunt of revelry, or the private dancing-party, or the ball- 
room of the giddy and godless. Then suppose a number of 
devout and living Christians mingle in the dissipating scene 
you behold. Stop, and muse a wliile. Think of the holy 
calling, the professed godly life of some you see there. Look 
upon those called the sons and the daughters of the Lord 
Almighty. Remember, that they have solemnly promised 
to "walk worthy of God," who hath called them to his 
kingdom and glory. Take with you the most consistent 
Christian you know, or the most candid impenitent man. 
As you stand with them at the entrance to these scenes, 
will not the Christian be shocked, and the impenitent man 
ask, " What do ye more than others V And can you shake 
oft^ the conviction from your own conscience, that there is 
at least the "appearance of evil;" and as such, that it is 
most expressly and solemnly forbidden by the religion you 
profess ? 

2. Does it give offence to Christian brethren? Without 
an inquiry of them, we might safely reply. But we have 
their own full testimony. Were it only the few, and these 
the weakest of the flock, who are grieved, still it would 
indicate the mind of Christ, and our duty, as those possess- 
ing " the same mind." Hear his own words : " Whoso shall 
ofiend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were 
better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, 
and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." But 
not to the few merely, is the oflence. " A voice as the 
sound of many waters," is heard in reply. The great mass 
of the most worthy and devoted ministers and private Chris- 
tians believe dancing to be utterly inconsistent with a pro- 
fession of the religion of the Gospel. They are grieved, 
deeply grieved, that a few continue it. 

The appeal is full of tenderness. It comes from those 
who mourn over the reproach of Zion. It comes from 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. . 5 

broken-hearted parents, whose children have been dra^\^l 
away from the fold of Christ. It comes from pastors, weep- 
ing over many a ruined lamb of the flock, the first step in 
whose downward course was taken in the ballroom or pri- 
vate dancing-party. Had the same appeal been made to 
Paul, what would he have done ? If no evil, save in 
appearance only, yet, knowing the offence to Christian 
brethren, would he not have instantly resolved not to repeat 
it, " while the world standeth ?" And on what principle 
can any Christian do otherwise ? Can that be a renewed 
heart, on which the appeal falls powerless, and from which 
the loved indulgence repels it ? 

3. Does it 2yrev€?it the light of a Christiaji life from so 
shining as to lead men to glo^'ify God ? God is glorified 
when the power and excellence of his grace appear. The 
artist is honored by every perfect specimen of his skill, and 
disgraced by that which is marred or tarnished. Every 
professed Christian is before the world as an illustration of 
what God's grace can do. If presented in a false light, He 
is dishonored. " Do all to the glory of God," is the grand 
direction of the renewed heart and life. Is this the design 
of dancing ? Does the grace of God shine forth in the ball- 
room ? Do its gayety and dissipation " show forth the praises 
of Him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvel- 
lous light ?" 

God is glorified when, by a blameless example, fellow- 
Christians are kept from temptation, and led up to higher 
attainments in piety. It shows his own workmanship more 
perfect and lovely. But is such the influence upon those 
who follow you to the ballroom ? If safe for you, may not 
the weaker, or the younger, fall into sin, started in their 
course by your example ? This is a view of great solemnity. 
No man goes wrong in this matter, alone. He draws others 
with him, and they are generally those who need all the 
power of a better influence. Many a pastor's heart bleeds 

VOL. XIT. 14 



6 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

to-day over the young and tlie inexperienced, tlius fallen into 
the wiles of the destroyer. 

God is glorified, when wicked men are forced to confess 
the great difference between a truly Christian life,, and their 
own. The sentiment is utterly false, that partial conform- 
ity will secure the favor of the world. Men love consist- 
ency, and full well they know, that no other life is conformed 
to the Gospel, but that which is kept " unspotted from the 
world." Captain "Wilson, of missionary memory, after his 
conversion, still lingered with his gay and wicked associates. 
He hoped, by partial indulgence in. their pleasures, to con- 
ciliate their favor towards religion. But he soon learned 
his mistake. In the experiment he had offended God, and 
perilled his own soul ; and what was the result ? His asso- 
ciates only laughed him to scorn as a hypocrite, and despised 
his religion. "I see Christians most forward and eager in 
amusements," said a youth, as he lingered on the brink of 
apostasy. Hardened and repelled by the view, he plunged 
into the dark gulf — a specimen of many similar sad results 
from the same cause. 

Irreligious men do, indeed, love to meet the Christian 
where his inconsistency will most fully appear. Every arti- 
fice is employed to draw him there. Great esteem towards 
himself, and an unusual tenderness of regard for his religion, 
are sometimes expressed. It is feared that his influence 
will be diminished, or that religion will be thought gloomy, 
if he declines what they call innocent recreation. But, like 
the traitor kiss, all is deceptive. The moment he yields, 
they exult over him as fallen. His light becomes darkness. 
Their diseased eyes are no longer pained by it. Conscience 
is quieted — prejudices strengthen — souls are ruined. 

Fellow- Christian, in view of these results, you will not, 
you cannot hesitate for a moment, as to your duty. You 
have bound your soul to God, by a solemn oath, to conform 
your life to the precepts of the Gospel. Can you do it. as 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 7 

you indulge in that Avhich all confess has the " ap'pearance 
of evil V\ Can you do it by continuing a practice which 
Christian brethren " have told you often, and now tell you, 
even weeping," ofiends and most deeply grieves them, and 
by which your light can never " 6'o shine before men," as to 
lead them to " glorify your Father which is in heaven ?" 

To complete the view, only a single point remains to be 
noticed. A duty we owe to God, and expressly enjoined by 
him, is to be done, however it may be viewed by others, or 
whatever the probable results. Peter was to visit the cen- 
turion of Cesarea, though his brethren were offended that he 
went "in to men uncircumcised." Abraham was to take 
the child of promise to Mount Moriah, though it appeared 
so unnatural, and the consequences so ruinous to the hope 
of Israel, and the kingdom of the Messiah. But in these 
and all similar cases, a duty was enjoined. God expressly 
commanded. The neglect would have been sin. Is, then, 
dancing a duty God expressly requires? Is there sin in 
neglecting it ? 

Two kinds of dancing arc mentioned in the Bible. One 
was a religious act, expressive of grateful joy for some sig- 
nal deliverance, and in the performance of which the saxes 
did not imite. See Exod. 15 : 20 ; Judg. 11 : 34 ; 1 Sam. 
18 : 6 ; 2 Sam. 6 : 14 ; Psa. 30 : 11, and Jer. 31 : 4. The 
other was a wcial amusemeiit, to which a religious service 
had been perverted ; and those were deemed vile and impi- 
ous who indulged in it. Three instances are mentioned. 
The " vain fellows " and shameless, to whom Michal al- 
ludes, 2 Samuel, 6 : 20. The irreligious families whose 
"children dance," and who are represented as saying to 
God, " Depart from us ; for we desire not the knowledge of 
thy ways." Job 21 : 7-14. And finally, that scene of im- 
pieties which commenced with the dancing of Herodias* 
daughter, and ended with the rash promise of Herod, and 
th6 murder of John the Baptist. Matthew 14:6. 



8 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

If, then, " a time to dance " is any thing more than a 
simple expression of joy in contrast with " a time to mourn,", 
to which of these kinds of dancing does it refer ? If to the 
first, it has no appHcation to our inquiry. We are consider- 
ing, not a rehgious service, but a social amusement. If it 
refers to the second, it cannot imply either a command or 
permission even ; but is simply a declaration of what is done 
by men. It no more implies commendation, than the decla- 
ration, " a time to lose," does of the gambler's hazards, by 
which he loses all. But the very opposite is true. For the 
only instances of social dancing to which the Bible alludes, 
are so mentioned as never to indicate approval, but usually 
distinct disapproval. The propriety of it is left as little 
doubtful as that of Noah's drunkenness, or the causing a 
son or daughter " to pass through the fire to Moloch." 

Instead of permitting, therefore, God's word pointedly 
condemns dancing as a social amusement. But if it were 
not so, one thing all confess : it is not a Christian duty, the 
neglect of which would be sin. That God does not forbid 
it, is the most for which any contend. And in this very plea 
there is the implied confession, that he does not require it. 
And if there is no sin in not doing what so obviously vio- 
lates the precepts of the Gospel, and is so connected with 
evil results to others, must there not be sin in doing it ? 

By the performance of duty, a certain effect is produced 
upon the feelings of the Christian heart. By sinful indul- 
gence a different eflect is produced. Tell me, my brother, 
which of these effects follows from dap.cing ? Have you 
returned from the place of 

"Revelry, and dance, and frantic song," 

with a heart light, and full of sweet confidence in God ? 
Have you then bowed in your closet devotions, assured of his 
approving smile ? Or have you neglected, or hurried through 
them, as if conscious of the solemn mockery ? Has your 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. . 9 

heart shrunk from approaching God, until the vividness of 
the scenes in which you have just mingled has passed 
away ? Have you found that " the end of mirth is heavi- 
ness?" Has any such efiect resulted from abstaining from 
the indulgence ? Which, then, is duty ? Which injures, 
which benefits your own soul ? 

Chosen pleasures reveal the state of the heart. " Only 
let me be assured that one is truly religious," said an emi- 
nent divine, " and I will not object to his dancing;" so con- 
fident was he that a real Christian would have no heart for 
it. And is it possible, that one who abides in Christ, and is 
with him " crucified to the world," can indulge in that which 
is so hostile to the life of God in the soul ? Like the fabled 
flower of antiquity, it may cause pleasant laughter upon the 
lips, but is at the same time conveying deadly poison to the 
vitals. It checks the current of the spiritual life, chills the 
affections, and tears the heart away from Christ. 0, is it 
possible, that one in the robes of heaven should plunge 
down so low ; that one who has tasted the joys of the re- 
deemed, should ever again relish the frivolity and empty 
pleasures of the ballroom ; that one who professes to labor 
"together with God," in the salvation of perishing semis, 
should do what is so hazardous to his own soul, and so cer- 
tainly injurious to others ? 

Let us inquire, now, if it is consistent for Christians to 
teach THEIR CHILDREN that which is so inconsistent for them- 
selves ? The precepts of the Gospel are here also to be our 
guide. They are binding, not only in some relations, but in 
eveiy relation you sustain. And not in a part merely, but 
in all these relations you are connected with the church of 
Christ. As a Chrhtian 'parent, you are bound to Christ. 
\\\ this very relation you are in covenant with Christian 
brethren. And not only is the church deeply interested in 
the spiritual welfare of your children, but the dearest in- 
terests of other Christian families will be vitally affected 
VOL. xii. 14* 



10 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

by the manner in which you train your own. It is clear, 
then, 

1. That what has the " appearance of evil " in yourself, 
will have the same appearance when allowed to your chil- 
dren. Although the indulgence be not your own, the ap- 
proval of it is. If there is evil in the one case, there is in 
the other. For approval of sin, is sin. So it appears to 
Christian brethren. So it appears to their children. So it 
appears to other parents, who profess to be bound by no such 
holy precepts as you acknowledge. Some of them fear to 
follow with their children, where you lead yours. They 
cannot believe that dancing is any part of " the nurture and 
admonition of the Lord." think, Christian parent. Pause, 
and pray long and earnestly, and you will never consent that 
a child of yours shall be seen in the ballroom. " Their 
children dance,'' is a characteristic, not of Christian fami- 
lies, but of those asking, "What is the Almighty, that we 
should serve him ?" 

2. Brethren are grieved, when you teach your children 
that which grieves them when done by yourself It may 
affect them even more deeply. Their families may be influ- 
enced more by the example of your children, than by your 
own. What can inflict a deeper wound upon a Christian 
father's heart, than your allowance of sinful amusements to 
your family ? His children point to it in their importunity. 
They tell him that you are a church-member. He must 
yield, or, by refusing, be compelled to seem severe and big- 
oted. He must be silent, or reply that your example is 
unworthy a Christian parent. This is the torturing dilemma 
into which you bring other parents. Some have yielded, 
and fallen into sin. Others have stood firm, while their 
children have broken away from parental control to follow 
yours, and been ruined. 

could all the sorrows of a single mother's heart be 
whispered in your ear — or could you follow a single youth, 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. H 

led thus into temptation, entering this outer edge of the 
whirlpool, to be borne in narrower and swifter circles, until 
he plunges down the boiling centre, and disappears for ever, 
you would understand why a parent's heart so pleads with 
you now. 

3. That which prevents the light of a Christian life from 
so shining in you as to glorify God, will do the same when 
taught to your children. Your example is to be not only 
that of a Christian, but that of a Chrisiian 'parent. Train- 
ing your household in the fear of God, should be one of the 
brightest rays of that light which is to "shine before men." 
In nothing does the grace of God more distinctly appear. 
In nothing can it be more easily obscured. Through you it 
is to shine for the guidance of other parents and households. 
But is dancing any part of the "nurture and admonition" 
the grace of God teacheth ? Does not the most thoughtless 
trifler with things divine, know the ballroom to be a place 
preeminently "without God ?" Do not its scenes glare out 
upon the world, as destitute of any thing Christian as the 
most godless could wish ? 

But when all this is admitted, one plea remains. It is 
said, that when more privately done, the evils of dan«ing 
are avoided. Were this true, can it be so done ? However 
privately begun, can it be kept so ? Are not its outward 
tendencies sure ? The flame may be concealed when first 
kindled, but it will burst forth unless speedily extinguished. 
Set up a theatre in your own dwelling, and will not your 
children, true to the vitiated taste you have nourished, seek 
more public gratification ? Indulge them in the social glass 
at home, and will they not seek it elsewhere ? So the social 
dancing-party is the private entrance to all the dissipation 
of the ballroom. How often, by this deceptive process, do 
parents draw forth a passion they cannot control, and which, 
"when it is finished, bringeth forth death." When will 
they learn, that the end over which they mourn, is but the 



12 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

natural consequence of the beginning they approved. It is 
like giving your children poison, and then weeping in bitter- 
ness over them as they are seen sick and dying 

How many are pained that their children are so thought- 
less of God. But why should they not be thoughtless ? 
What are the influences thrown around the youthful heart, 
just when there is most hope of its being drawn to Christ, 
and yet most danger of its being hopelessly hardened ? How 
are all the thoughts engrossed in preparation for the gay 
assembly. What feverish excitement while in it. When it 
is passed, how is the heart sealed against serious reflection. 
By a succession of these scenes, though separated by long 
intervals, the choicest years of youth are wasted. The soul 
is ruined ; for how often their probation and dances end to- 
gether. By parental, but cruel indulgence, the process was 
commenced. The entrance was flowery, the end shrouded 
ill eternal darkness. A parent who does this, seems like the 
heathen mother, pleasing her infant with flowers, that she 
may drop it a smiling, and therefore a more acceptable sac- 
rifice, into the arms of the monster opening a fiery furnace 
within to consume it. 

Christian parent, you know not what you do when you 
draw out the latent passion of your child for this amusement. 
It may soon spurn all control or persuasion. That of the 
gambler is not more insatiate. 

"I was once called," says an aged pastor, "to visit a 
young lady who was said to be ill despair. She had, at 
some time previous, been serious, and had, it was hoped, 
resolutely set her face Zionward. In an evil hour, some of 
her former associates called on her to accompany them to a 
ball. She refused to go. The occasion, the company, the 
parade and gayety, were all utterly dissonant from her pres- 
ent feelings. With characteristic levity and thoughtlessness, 
they employed persuasion and ridicule ; and finally so far 
prevailed, that with a desperate effort to shake oft' her con- 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 13 

victions and regain her former security, she exclaimed, 
' Well, I u-ill go, if I am damned for it!' God took her 
at her word. The blessed Spirit immediately withdrew his 
influences, and instead of the anxious sigh, and longing de- 
sire to be freed from the body of sin and death, succeeded, 
by turns, the calmness and the horrors of despair. 

" The wretched victim knew that the Spirit had taken 
his final leave : no compunctions for sin, no tears of peni- 
tence, no inquiries after God, no eager seeking of the ' place 
where Christians love to meet,' now occupied the tedious 
hours. Instead of the bloom and freshness of health, there 
came the paleness and haggardness of decay. The wan and 
sunken cheek, the ghastly, glaring eye, the emaciated limb, 
the sure precursors of approaching dissolution, were there. 
The caresses of friends, the suggestions of afi^ection, were all 
unheeded. The consolations of piety, the last resource of 
the miserable, were to her but the bitterness of death. In 
this state of mind, I was called to visit her. When I entered 
the room, and beheld her pale and emaciated, and reflected 
that the ravages of her form icithout but faintly shadoAved 
forth the wreck and desolation ivitliin, I was almost over- 
powered. Never had I conceived so vivid an idea of .the 
woe and misery of those who have 'quenched the Spirit.' 

" I proposed prayer. The word threw her into an agony. 
She utterly refused. No entreaties of friends, no arguments 
drawn from the love of God, or from the fulness and freeness 
of atoning blood, could prevail to shake her resolution. I 
left her without being able to find a single avenue to her 
heart, or to dart one ray of comfort into the dark bosom, 
which, to all human view, was soon to be enveloped in the 
blackness of darkness for ever. Never shall I forget the 
dreadful expression of that ghastly countenance, the tones of 
that despairing voice. The impression is as vivid as though 
it had been but yesterday. that all the young, gay, 
thoughtless ones, who stifle the convictions of" conscience, 



14 DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AiMUSExMENT. 

and repress the rising sigh, and dance along the brink of 
utter reprobation and despair, would read, and lay to heart 
the warning." that every parent would ponder the awful 
results of cherishing a passion in the youthful bosom, which 
may be used by Satan and wicked associates so fearfully to 
ruin the soul. 

An eminent divine, of great experience in the work of 
God's grace, was accustomed to regard the use of ardent 
sjnrits, and dancing, as two of the influences most hostile 
to the soul. With great solemnity, he used to allude to the 
case of a young man, a leader in the ballroom. To shield 
himself from the influence of a revival, at the time in prog- 
ress, he sought to multiply dancing-assemblies, and to draw 
others into them. But he could not escape Godi' ^judgme?its, 
if he could his mercies. He was suddenly laid upon a bed 
of sickness. Death seemed near. In awful distress, he 
begged for the mercy he had before despised. When thus 
borne down, hopeless of recovery, he seemed penitent, became 
exceeding joyful, and earnestly and solemnly warned his asso- 
ciates ; and it was thought by pious friends a most remarka- 
ble case of death-bed conversion. 

But unexpectedly he recovered. With returning health, 
his religion so rapidly disappeared, that the first thing he 
did was to persuade his associates to make arrangements for 
another ball. Godless as they were, they were shocked at 
the proposal. But his persuasion overcame their scruples. 
The evening came, and in the midst of the glare and revelry 
of its scenes, he fell to the floor as if touched by the finger 
of an offended God — was borne a raving maniac to his home, 
which he had scarcely reached, when death sealed up his 
history for the final judgment. The passion for dancing 
held firm yet concealed possession of his soul, even when 
death stood by, and friends supposed he had forsaken all. 
It had been cherished in early youth, had grown with his 
growth, and strengthened with his strength. O with what 



DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 15 

agony would parental hearts have answered our inquiry, 
bleeding at that hour over a ruined child I Reader, may 
God in infinite mercy spare you from such experience ; 
but icill he, if you allow your children in that which pro- 
duced it ? 

Had that youth died when joyful in a false hope, his 
passion would have been developed in eternity, beyond our 
sight. But God spared him, that it might be done here — a 
solemn warning to parents who cruelly allow a passion to 
be cherished in their children, which first deceives, and then 
throws its chains of darkness around the soul for ever. 

Now, professed disciples of Jesus, our appeal is to you. 
The religion you profess has, for its distinctive feature, a 
tender regard for the good of others. As such, you are to 
exhibit it to the world by abstaining from the " appearance 
of evil," by giving "no ofience" to Christian brethren, and 
by the light of a holy example, so shining that God may be 
glorified. This you can never do by mingling with the 
world in an amusement which you must confess has the 
"appearance of evil," which your brethren assure you, with 
tears, most deeply grieves them, and which so certainly is 
not done " to the glory of God." It caimot be among things 
indifferent. If not a positive duty, the neglect of which 
would be sin, then the indulgence must be guilty, deeply and 
dreadfully so. 

Beloved brethren, " Be not deceived." Review the con- 
siderations which have been suggested, in your closet. Pray 
that God will direct you. If dancing be a duty, implore his 
grace to aid you in its faithful performance. Do you hesi- 
tate ? Why ? Is conscience in conflict with your desires ? 
Are there misgivings in your heart ? pause, reflect. Will 
you deliberately do that in which you cannot ask God to 
bless you ? Wait not until the temptation comes. But now, 
alone with God, before you turn your eye from this appeal, 
decide. Let it be now fixed, changeless — a decision which 



IQ DANCING, AS A SOCIAL AMUSEMENT. 

will give present peace, and which shall come up in joyful 
remembrance at a dying hour. 

Christian parent, let the heart of a parent plead with you, 
All the reasons for abandoning, the sinful indulgence your- 
self, are equally clear in showing that you cannot allow it 
to your children, and be blameless. There is a higher and 
holier than natural affection. What more dear to us than 
the souls of our children ? What responsibility like this ? 
The soul of your beloved child seems laid upon your own. 
With what sacred, guardian care, should it be protected from 
every poisonous influence. The young know not the danger 
of slight beginnings. We do. And shall we cruelly leave 
them to wind around themselves the soft and silken web, 
which may harden into bonds of iron upon the soul ? 

But you hope it will not end thus with yoio' children. 
So have others hojjed, Avho are now bowed down beneath 
parental sorrows. Will you, then, lead your children into 
temptation, in the presumptuous hope that God will save 
them from it? plant not thus your dying pillow with 
thorns. Will you, as you are dying, regret that your chil- 
dren have been no more faithfully trained to the dance or 
ballroom ? Or, as you close the eyes of a beloved child in 
death, will you have bitter reflection in the remembrance 
that he has been guarded from all these ruinous influences ? 
say, will not all your sorrows have a diflerent source, and 
your sweetest consolation come from this ? then be wise — 
wise for yourself and wise for your cliildren. Let your au- 
thority and aflection as a parent encircle them. Herein is a 
saving influence God has intrusted to your hands. Be faith- 
ful to your children now. They will hereafter rise up and 
call you blessed for it ; and your decision to-day may be 
among your most precious remembrances, when Christ shall 
present them, with you, " faultless before the presence of his 
glory, with exceeding joy." 



POOR ¥ILLIAM. 



The grace of God is displayed no less in the depths of 
poverty and ignorance to which it descends, than in the 
higher walks of life of which it forms the brightest ornament. 
This truth has a pleasing illustration in the following nar- 
rative of William Phinney, who was born in Lebanon, Con- 
necticut, about the year 1740 ; and whom, though more 
than a century has since elapsed, the writer well knew. 

He was lame and deformed, and could never stand up- 
right or walk unless supported by two staves. His parents 
were poor ; he had not strength of limb to use the imple- 
ments of husbandry ; he could scarcely express himself so as 
to be understood by strangers ; and his mind and memory 
were so weak, that all efforts to teach him to read were un- 
avaihng. He was cross, intractable, mischievous, perverse. 
He seemed almost destitute of reflection, or consciousness of 
right and wrong : he gave way to an uncontrolled appetite, 
whether for food or strong drink ; he often used the most pro- 
fane, obscene, and opprobrious language ; and thus exhibited 
without restraint, and in its most fearful aspects, the native 
depravity of the human heart. He gave no indications of 
religious influence on his mind, or any just apprehension of 
God, or the future world ; and could be controlled only by 
the fear of corporal punishment. 

Young children, who were weaker than himself, it was 
his pleasure to annoy, by attempting to run after them, or 
throwing sticks or stones at them ; so that he became a terror 
to those sportive and happy groups, which so often give life 
and joy to the family and the social circle. Few human 
beings, probably, have had less in them that was attractive 
or hopeful as tD the present or the future world. Thus poor 
William continued till near middle life, loving no one, beloved 
by no one, deformed in soul and body, and verifying that 

VOL. XII. 15 



2 POOR WILLIAM. 

appalling description of the apostle, " hateful and hating one 
another.." 

" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his 
spots ?" " Then may they also do good who are accustomed 
to do evil," and, by the power of snpcrabounding grace, vile, 
degraded WilHam may yet " shine above the brightness of 
the firmament, and as the stars for ever and ever." 

A little before the war of the revolution, when the state 
of religion throughout the country was generally low, the 
presence of the Holy Spirit was enjoyed by the people among 
whom William dwelt ; many promising youth were brought 
to Christ, and in the fervor of their love and joy they some- 
times, between the public exercises of the Sabbath in sum- 
mer, gathered under the shadow of a tree near the house of 
God, AAhere they conversed, read, and sung hymns of praise. 
One day poor William, who generally attended the sanc- 
tuary, strolled in among them ; and the Holy Spirit there 
reached his heart, arousing his conscience, alarming him on 
account of his sins, and drawing his attention to the con- 
cerns of his soul. 

His feeble mind, which never beibre was known to be 
permanently aflected by any thing that did not appeal directly 
to his senses, now became fixed on the subject of his salva- 
tion and preparation to meet his linal Judge. Terrified in 
view of the wrath of God, and of his own dark and hopeless 
condition as a sinner, he earnestly implored instruction ; nor 
was he satisfied with any thing until Christ, the great atoning 
sacrifice for sin, the " one mediator between God and man," 
was clearly set before him. His pastor spared no pains to 
pour the simplest gospel truths into his dark mind ; and 
most evidently that blessed and invisible Agent who awoke 
his conscience, led him by faith to the crucified Redeemer, 
and thus gave peace to his troubled spirit. 

From that time no profane or irreverent language escaped 
liis li])s ; he was no longer perverse and mischievous ; he was 
now easily controlled in respect to the evil habits he had 
ii)ruied. and bceame submissive and gentle as a child. He 



rOOR WILLIAM. 3 

feared and loved God. Nothing delighted him more than 
to hear Christians talk of Christ, the riches of his mercy, 
and all he has done to save lost men. His wild countenance 
assumed a milder aspect ; his temper became peaceful and 
happy, and little children flocked to him, and delighted in 
him as a companion in their harmless sports. The trans- 
formation was observed by the older and more discerning 
with astonishment, for they saw in him marked evidence that 
he had indeed become " a new creature in Christ Jesus." 

It was at first doubted by some, whether one so weak in 
mind should be received into the church ; but he publicly 
professed his faith, and was admitted to full communion. 
He showed a peculiar love to the people of God ; and when 
he learned that others were seriously inclined, would visit 
them, and inquire after their state with a simplicity and 
seriousness often truly afiecting. His faithful pastor was 
especially endeared to him. Hearing of the good man's death, 
William, though then some miles distant, hastened to attend 
the funeral, accosting the mourning son of the deceased, 
whom he met at the door, in this singular language : "They 

tell, Mr. S dead — I be glad on't :" that is, he rejoiced 

that he had "kept the faith," '-finished his course," and 
gone to receive the " crown of righteousness reserved for .him 
against that day.'" 

AVilliam's Christian walk was generally consistent. In 
a few instances he was known to exhibit a wrong temper, 
but his sorrow for it Avas most sincere. On one occasion, 
before the present principles of total abstinence from intoxi- 
cating drinks prevailed, a designing young man, being alone 
with him, gave him a sweet mixed liquor, by which he was 
intoxicated. AYhen he came to himself, and knew what had 
been done, he cried and wept bitterly, and gave the most sat- 
isfactory evidence of true repentance before God and man. 

Generally, he was happy in the enjoyment of God and 
the anticipation of heaven. Sometimes he was clouded with 
fears and temptation, but he would say, " The devil come, 
pick me all to pieces — I cry — pray — pray hard to my blessed 



4 roOR WILLIAM. 

Master — the devil then go away." Thus William pursued 
his course till advanced years, when the Master called him. 
to sit down in his kingdom. 

An aged pastor, Rev. S B , in whose father's 

house William long resided, says, " I well remember this 
poor, rich man. What I have seen in him and heard from 
his lips, showing his love to every one who he thought loved 
Christ ; his love to the word of God, though he could not 
read it, and to the house and the ordinances of God ; his 
reverence for the names of God and the titles of Christ ; and 
his interest in every case of the hopeful conversion of a sin- 
ner, were such as carried conviction to my mind and heart 
that he was one of the most wonderful instances of the 
power of divine grace. Notwithstanding the deformity of 
his person, there was a sweetness in his voice when he spoke 
of sin in himself, or of the Saviour^ or the Bible, of his pas- 
tor or other Christian friends, of the ordinances of God, or 
of heaven, which carried demonstration, both to the friends 
and enemies of Christ, of the reality of his conversion from 
the love of sin to the love of holiness." 

Can deniers of the Bible, and of those truths distinguished 
as evangelical, produce, in all their annals, such an example 
of moral elevation as was eftected in poor William ? Did 
Deism or Universalism ever work such a change ? Such 
results are effected only by the word and Spirit of God. 

Is the reader, with all his superior advantages, living 
" without hope and without God in the world ?" Let not 
poor William stand in the judgment a witness against you. 
" Christ" must be formed "in you the hope of glory," you 
must trust his merits and receive him into your heart, or to 
that blessed world Avhere poor William is uttering the praises 
of Jehovah, and is exalted in splendor far more bright than 
ever clothed an earthly monarch, you can never come. 
[Prepared by Rev. Timothy Stone, Cornwall, Connecticut.] 



rUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 493. 



BEWARE OF BAD BOOKS. 



AVhy, what harm \Aill books do me ? The same harm 
that personal intercourse would with the bad men who wrote 
them. That "A man is known by the company he keeps," 
is an old proverb ; but it is no more true than that a man's 
character may be determined by knowing Avhat books he 
reads. If a good book can be read without making one bet- 
ter, a bad book cannot be read without making one worse. 

Lord Bacon makes the pithy remark, that "In the body 
there are three degrees of that we receive into it, aliment, 
medicine, and poison ; whereof aliment is that which the 
nature of man can perfectly alter and overcome ; medicine 
is that which is partly converted by nature and partly con- 
verteth nature ; and poison is that which worketh w^holly 
upon nature, without nature being able to work at all upon 
it : so in the mind, tvhatsoever knoicledge reason cannot at 
all u'ork iqion and convert, is a mere intoxication, and en- 
dangereth a dissolution of the mind and ttnder standing'' 

Bad books are like ardent spirits ; they furnish neither 
"aliment" nor "medicine" — they are "j^oiso??." Both in- 
toxicate — one the mind, the other the body ; the thirst for 
each increases by being fed, and is never satisfied ; both 
ruin — one the intellect, the other the health, and together, 
the soul. The makers and venders of each are equally 
guilty and equally corrupters of the community; and the 
safeguard against each is the same — total abstinence from 
all that intoxicates mind or body. 

Here we have a definition of what we mean by ''■bad 
books:'' whatever books neither feed the mind nor purify 
the heart, but intoxicate the mind and corrupt the heart. 
Works of science, art, history, theolog}', etc., furnish "ali- 
ment" or "medicine:" books of fiction, romance, infidelity, 
war, piracy, and murder, are '' poison,'' more or less diluted, 
and are as much to be shunned as the drunkard's cup. They 
will "bite like a serpent, and sting like an adder." 

Books of mere fiction and faiwy are generally bad in 

VOL. XII. 15* 



2 BEWARE OF BAD BOOKS. 

their character and influence. Their authors are commonly 
bad men, and Avicked men do not often write good books. A , 
stream does not rise higher than its fountain. Their prin- 
ciples are often corrupt, encouraging notions of chivalry, 
worldly honor, and pleasure, at war with the only true code 
of morals. They insult the understanding of the reader, by 
assuming that the great object of reading is amusement. 
The effects are such as might be expected. Familiarity 
with popular fiction gives a disrelish for simple truth ; en- 
genders a habit of reading merely for amusement, which 
destroys the love of sober investigation, and blasts the hope 
of mental improvement; renders scientific and historical 
reading tedious ; gives false views of the perfectibility of 
human nature, thus leading to disappointments in the rela- 
tions of life ; and dwarfs the intellectual and moral powers, 
except the imagination, which is rendered morbid and un- 
healthy by constant excitement. The Bible becomes a 
wearisome book; spiritual classics, like those of Baxter, 
Bunyan, Flavel, and Doddridge, though glowing with celes- 
tial fire, become insipid and uninteresting; and the influ- 
ence of the pulpit is undermined, by diverting the attention 
from serious things, and lessening the probability that truth 
will take effect upon the conscience ; or if it does for a time, 
the bewitching novel furnishes a ready means of stifling 
conviction and grieving away the Spirit of God. A mer- 
chant in H. was under conviction for sin, during a revival 
of religion. A pious friend called, and, to his surprise, found 
him engaged in reading a worthless novel. To his remon- 
strance against such trifling, he replied, " I'm so interested 
in this book, I must finish it ; and tJien I will attend to the 
aflairs of my soul." He finished the book. He attended to 
the concerns of his soul — never I Thousands have perished 
by similar seductive influences. 

Beivare of the foul and exciting roinance. All that is 
said above will apply with tenfold intensity to this class of 
reading, for which it paves the Avay. The writer of modern 
romance chooses his scenes from the places of debauchery 
and crime, and familiarizes the reader with characters, sen- 
timents, and events, that should be known only to the police. 
Licentious scenes and obscene imagery are unblu shingly in- 
troduced, and the imagination polluted by suggestions and 
descriptions revolting to the pure in heart. '' Ptiblic poi- 



BEWARE OF BAD BOOKS. 3 

S07ters'' was the title long since justly given to writers of 
this class. It was lately testified in open court, by the father 
of one whose guilty course has brought ruin upon herself, 
disgrace upon her lamily, and death upon her lover, that all 
was occasioned by his daughter's "reading the impure works 
of Eugene Sue and Bulwer." To yield to such a hellish 
charm, is like the voluntary sacrifice of one's body and soul 
on the drunkard's altar. Mental deliriitm tremens is as sure 
a consequence of habitual intoxication from such reading, 
as is that awful disease the certain end of the inebriate. 
Beware of it I 

Beware of injidel books, and of all writings which ridi- 
cule the Bible. You will meet them, with a more or less 
guarded avowal of their object, in the newspaper, the tract, 
and the volume. Infidelity is a system of negations; it is 
nothing — believes nothing — does nothing good. Beware of 
it, in whatever form it approaches you, as you value tem- 
poral happiness and prosperity, the peace of society, and 
eternal well-being. No man enters eternity an infidel. 

Beware of books of ivar, inracij, and murder. The first 
thought of crime has been suggested by such books. The 
murderer of Lord William Russell confessed on the scaflbld, 
that the reading of one such book led him to the commission 
of his crime. Another, who was executed for piracy, was 
instigated to his course by a book of piratical tales. The 
state-prisons are filled with criminals who were incited to 
crime by similar means. They stimulate the love t)f ad- 
venturous daring, cultivate the baser passions, and prompt 
to deeds of infamy. Away with them I 

Do you still need to be persuaded to beware of the poison 
that would paralyze your conscience, enervate your intellect, 
pervert your judgment, deprave your life, and perhaps ruin 
your soul? 

Beware of bad books, because if you, and others like 
you, ivill let them alone, they ivill soon cease to be ind)lished. 
Every such book you buy encourages the guilty publisher 
to make another. Thus you not only endanger your own 
morals, but pay a premium on the means of ruining others. 

Beware, because your example is contagious. Your 
child, your- servant, your neighbor, may be led to read what 
will be injurious for time and eternity; or not to "touch the 
unclean thing," as your example may prompt. 



4 BEWARE OF BAD BOOKS. 

Beware, because good books are ])lerity and cheap, and 
it is folly to feed on chaff or poison, when substantial, health- 
ful food may as well be obtained. 

Beware of bad books, because they waste your ■ time. 
"Time is money;" it is more — it is eternity! You live in 
a sober, redeemed world, and it is worse than folly to fritter 
aAvay the period of probation in mere amusement. God 
did not bring us into being, and sustain that being — the Re- 
deemer did not shed his blood a ransom for our sins — the 
Holy Spirit has not bestowed upon us the book divine, that 
we might flit from flower to flower like the butterfly, neg- 
lecting all the ends of rational and immortal being, and go 
to the judgment mere triflers. 

Beware of bad books, because principles imbibed and 
images gathered from them ivill abide in the memory and 
imagination for ever. The mind once polluted is never freed 
from its corruption — never, unless by an act of boundless 
grace, through the power of the Spirit of God. 

Beware of them, because they are one of the most fruit- 
fid sources of eternal destruction. They are read in solitude. 
Their ravages are internal. Foundations of morality are 
undermined. The fatal arrow is fixed in the soul, while the 
victim only sees the gilded feather that guides its certain aim. 
He is lost, and descends to a hell the more intolerable, from 
a contrast with the scenes of fancied bliss with which the 
heart was filled by the vile, though gifted destroyer. The 
precious book of life was given to show you how you might 
secure the enrolment of your name among the saints in light ; 
but you chose the book of death, with present fascinations 
of a corrupt press, and the surest means of securing a dread- 
ful doom. If your epitaph were truly written, the passer- 
by in graveyard would read, 

"M ACQUIRED A TASTE FOR READING BAD BOOKS, DIED 

WITHOUT HOPE, AND 'WENT TO HIS OWN PLACE.' " 

Shall this be your epitaph, dear reader ? If not, make 
this pledge before God : " Hencefortlb I ivill beware of bad 
books, and never read ivhat can intoxicate, pollute, or de- 
prave the mind and heart'' 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



I\o. 401, 

THE 



SPIRIT OF CHRIST, 

EXEMPLIFIED IN LABORS FOR THE CONVERSION OF 
THE WORLD. 



Our blessed Lord, when on earth, collected around him 
a little band of disciples, whom he instructed in the things 
of his kingdom, and imbued with his own spirit, and to 
whom, when he left the world, he gave this explicit com- 
mand : Go ye, and disciple all nations. 

They went forth at his bidding, and labored faithfully 
to fulfil this command of their Master ; and by his blessing 
on their efforts, they greatly increased the number of his 
disciples. These again prosecuted the same object, and 
from that time to the present, though at some seasons the 
number of these disciples has been small, and their influ- 
ence limited by their want of faith and zeal, there always 
have been some who have loved their Divine Master and 
his cause, and who have, with more or less diligence, labor- 
ed in their appropriate work of fulfilling his command. 

To this company of disciples, you, my brother, profess 
to belong. You say, by your Christian profession," that 
you are a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ — that you have 
been bought with his blood, sanctified by his Spirit, and 
justified by his grace. You acknowledge that you "arc 
not your own," that you have been " bought with a price," 
and that you are bound to "glorify God in your body, 
and in your spirit, which are his." You admit the entire 
conclusiveness of the Apostle's reasoning, when he says, 
" We thus judge, that if One died for all, then were all 
dead ; and that he died for all, that they which live should 
not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him wliioh 
died for them, and rose again." And you t^urtiicr admit, 
if you have undcrstandingly assumed the station and re 
Bponsibilities of a disciple of Christ, that the command, 



2 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

" Go ye, and disciple all nations," is binding on you, to 
the extent of your influence and means. To be devoted to' 
the service of Christ, you have, in your public profession 
of religion, given a solemn pledge. And now, if your pledge 
vvas an honest one — if your profession, in your own view, 
means any thing — you frequently inquire, Hoiu shall I 
shoiD the spirit of my Saviour, in labors and sacrifices for the 
conversion of the ivorld ? To answer this inquiry is the 
object of this Tract. 

1. If you would show his spirit, you must have his 
spirit. Your first care relates to the state of your own 
heart. The spirit of benevolence, of love to God and love 
to man, must have a home in your own bosom. This was 
the distinguishing trait in the character of Christ, while he 
vvas on earth ; and if you would be his follower, and manl- 
iest his spirit, you must be like him in this respect. 

You must cultivate a deep and thorough acquaintance 
with the Bible. This holy book must not only be read, but 
studied. Its language, thoughts, and spirit must become 
the food and delight of your own soul. Thousands of pro- 
fessed Christians read the Scriptures as though they read 
them not. They pass their eye over the pages of the sa- 
cred volume, but do not think intensely on what they read 
— do not drink long and full draughts at this fountain of 
truth and holiness. By such reading you will never attain 
or cherish the spirit of Christ. There must be a searching 
for truth as for hid treasure. There must be a " thirsting: 
for God, for the living God," while consulting his word. 

A spirit of prayer must be juaintained. Jesus was a man 
of prayer ; and no man can possess and exhibit his spirit, 
who does not, in this respect, imitate him. If you would 
honor him, and be useful in his work, you must hold habit- 
ual communion with him in prayer. Your closet must be 
the place where you gain strength to maintain your spirit, 
ual conflict, and fight the battles of the Lord. There, under 
His view, and with His help, you must gird on the armor, 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. . 3 

and prepare yourself to maintain and promote His cause. 
Never, no, never neglect your closet. If you fail here, you 
will fail everywhere. 

2. Let your example be such as to impress on others the 
conviction that you are honest in your religious profession. 
The great influence of example all admit ; and yet, prob- 
ably, h\w professed Christians are aware how much their 
own example is concerned in advancing or hindering the 
progress of religion on earth. The force of example is the 
great power v/hich the professed disciple of Christ wields, 
either in building up or subverting the kingdom which he 
professes to love. And every member of the Christian 
church, whatever may be his station, wields this power with 
present and eternal effect, on the destinies of the immortal 
souls around him. By it he contributes, with a direct and 
powerful energy, to form their characters and put the stamp 
of eternal salvation or reprobation upon them. If you 
would show the spirit of the Saviour, and build up his king- 
dom, your example must be good. 

It is not enough for you to know that your example is 
not directly and positively bad ; that no immoralities are 
allowed to cleave to you in your conduct and intercourse 
Vk^ith your fellow-men. If your notions of morality are in- 
distinct and loose ; if your conscience can easily tolerate a 
departure from the rules of strict integrity in your dealings 
with others ; if you manage your worldly business on 
worldly principles and maxims, and allow yourself, because 
others do, to pursue a course which your conscience does 
not approve — what do you more than others ? In such a 
case, it is not only certain that your example is not good, 
and that you will not advance the Saviour's cause by the 
most powerful means you possess ; but it is clear, also, that 
your own soul is in danger, and you have fearful reason to 
apprehend ih&X you are a stranger to the spirit of Christ, 
and have no part in his salvation. 

If you would show the spirit of Christ in etforts to con- 



4 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

vert the world, your example must be positively good. It 
must .be healthful on those who feel its influence. In your 
spirit and movements you must exhibit a pattern which it 
will be safe for others to imitate. Unless this, is true of 
your example, you will not do what you are bound to do, 
and what you have promised to do, in extending the Sav- 
iour's kingdom. 

Are you at the head of a family? Your first duty, in 
endeavoring to show the spirit and do the work of the Re- 
deemer, is to set before your household a visible pattern of 
Christian life. In the domestic circle, the influence of your 
example will be first and most powerfully felt. The com- 
panion of your life, the children of your love, and the in- 
mates of your dwelling, will see and feel, and, to some extent, 
imitate your example. The prattling child whom you 
dandle on your knee, or who plays about the room in seem- 
ing thoughtlessness, while you, in the unrestrained habits 
of the domestic circle, are showing the ruling temper of 
your life, will soon catch something of its parent's spirit, and 
feel the effects of your example. And your children from 
six to twelve years of age, cannot be deceived respecting 
the ruling principle of your life. They may not be able to 
analyze your motives, or to describe the attributes of your 
character, but they feel the influence of your example. 
They feel whether your treasure is in heaven or on earth. 
They feel whether your religion consists in mere family 
devotions and a regular routine of services performed at 
stated intervals, or is carried into all the business of life, 
and is the ruling principle which controls all your conduct. 
They may not be able to say whether or not you are a 
true Christian ; but they w'lW feel, in the influence on them- 
selves, whether you are a true Christian or not. 

Let the child see that his parents are worldly-minded, 
frivolous, or pleasure-loving ; let him see that their conver- 
sation, plans, pursuits, and solicitudes, are respecting the 
things of time ; let him see little or none of the spirit of 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. ' 5 

religion breathed forth in the domestic circle, or in the daily 
business of life ; and let him see that the religion of his 
parents consists in some forms of worship at stated seasons j 
and the tendency of their example will be, to make him either 
a religious formalist or a careless scorner. 

Quite a different influence from this must your example, 
my brother, exert on your household, if you would show 
the spirit of the Saviour in efforts for the world's conversion. 
Your children must be made to know and feel that the high 
and controlling purpose of your life is to honor Christ and 
save the souls of men. They must learn this from what 
they see of your spirit and plans and movements. They 
must learn it from your prayers, your conversation, your 
doings. They must learn it from the papers and books 
which you furnish them to read ; from the manner in 
which you employ your time ; from the object which you 
hold up before your own view and their view as the end 
of your industrious attention to your secular business ; and 
from the manner in which you dispose of your property. 
Your example must be such that, if your children should 
embody their thoughts in language, they would say, " Our 
parents labor industriously, live economically, and deny 
themselves — not to hoard up wealth for our use when they 
are gone ; not to aggrandize themselves and us, by endeav- 
oring to outshine our neighbors in the elegance of our dress, 
or the splendor of our establishment ; not to afford us the 
means of living without industry ; but that they may do 
good in the world ; that they may educate us to be useful, 
and that they may have the means of contributing for the 
extension of the Saviour's kingdom." 

You can impress such sentiments as these on the minds 
of your children ; and unless you do it, you fail in your 
duty ; you do not, where it is most needed, and where it will 
be most effectual, exhibit the spirit of your Saviour in efforts 
to extend his kingdom. The thing is practicable. And 
this, it may be repeated, is your first duty with reference 

VOL. XI I. 16 



6 * THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

to the conversion of the world. Children, educated in this 
manner^ will follow the footsteps of their parents, and be. 
efficient agents in the world's renovation. 

You are a member of the church. This relation you 
sustain, whether you are at the head of a family or not ; 
and in this relation your example will be of incalculable 
benefit or injury to the cause of Christ. I say, it will be, 
for it cannot be otherwise. The spirit you breathe, the 
habits you adopt, and the course you pursue, will be felt by 
your brethren. Say not, as an excuse for any negligence 
in duty, that you are but one, and among the weakest. 
There never can be a member of a Christian church, whose 
example will not exert a direct influence on the state of the 
church, and, of course, on the cause of Christ. You have 
given a solemn pledge to walk with your brethren in a 
course of Christian duty ; and to combine your influence 
with theirs in building up the kingdom of the Redeemer. 
See that you redeem this pledge, by setting an example 
which it will be safe for your brethren to follow. 

On a certain Sabbath it is announced that your usual 
meeting for prayer is to be held on a specified day during 
the week. Arrange your worldly business so as to attend 
that meeting — and always attend it, whether it occurs month- 
ly or otherwise. But perhaps you will say, " My worldly 
business presses, I cannot attend this week, I cannot attend 
habitually without a sacrifice." So much the better. One 
reason why you ought to attend is, that it will cost you a 
sacrifice ; and your example in being willing to make this 
sacrifice, is what your brethren need. It will do them good. 
It will show them that you expect your profession of religion 
to cost you something ; and it will encourage them to do 
likewise. 

But perhaps — if you are but half a Christian, as too 
many professors of religion are — you may ask, '' What 
can be the harm in my staying away from the meeting ?" 
Vour minister will not be encouraged and animated b} 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 7 

your presence, when he wants lo see all his flock together. 
Your Christian brother will notice your absence, and feel a 
degree of despondency. Your children or your associates 
will see, or think ihey see, that you care more for your 
worldly business or pleasure, than you do for the interests 
of the church and the salvation of the world. Your ungod- 
ly neighbors, who know that the meeting was appointed, 
will notice that you pay no regard to it, and their inference 
will be, that your profession exerts little control over you, 
that you are as worldly as themselves. Say not, then, that 
there can be no harm in your neglect to attend the meeting. 
Your example is seen and felt by many, in the church and 
out of it. Unless Providence prevents, you should always 
be present at the meetings of the church. 

The season of the monthly concert of prayer is come. 
Do you purpose to attend it ? Do you always attend ? If 
not, you fail in duty, and are not doing what you can to 
exhibit the spirit of Christ, and to convert the world. Do 
you say that a determination always to be present, at these 
deeply interesting and important seasons, would subject you 
to some inconvenience and loss ? Very well, so let it be. 
When you gave your solemn pledge to be a servant of Jesus 
Christ, and an agent in building up his kingdom, did .you 
mean to do no more than what your worldly convenience 
would allow ? Then you are dishonest, and are none of his. 
When you made your public vow to deny yourself, and 
take up the cross and follow Christ, did you not expect that 
it would cost you something to keep that vow ? If you did, 
now there is an opportunity to show your sincerity, and to 
prove that you were honest in professing subjection to the 
Lord Jesus Christ. The monthly concert of prayer is one 
of the most important means for the conversion of the world. 
Unless prevented by Providence, you have no right to be 
absent from that season of special prayer for Zion's interests. 

You should be present for your example^ s sake, that you 
may encourage your pavStor and your brethren by the pres- 



8 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

er.ce of one on whom they may rely as a persevering 
helper in the good work. You should be present for your 
ovm sake, especially if you are obliged to make some sac- 
rifice to go, as it will teach you self-denial, warm your 
heart, and quicken your determination to be devoted to the 
cause of Christ. You should be present for your neighbor's 
sake, that you may take away from the ungodly the occa- 
sion of saying, " There is a professor of religion who cares 
nothing for the conversion of the world ; for, while his 
brethren are together for prayer, he is eagerly pursuing his 
business." 

Christian professor, remember that your example is 
seen and noticed and felt by many ; by your family, your 
pastor, your brethren, and by the irreligious world around 
you. See to it, then, that you exhibit a good example. It 
must be good, or you do not show the spirit of your Saviour, 
in efforts to extend the influence of the gospel. It must be 
good, or you are false to your public pledges and covenant 
vows. It must be good, or you do, under the garb of friend- 
ship, traitorously betray the interests of Jesus Christ. 

3. Engage in systematic, zealous, and untiring efforts 
to convert your fellow -men. 

Jesus " went about doing good." Are you a follower, 
an imitator of him ? Then his example marks out the course 
of your duty. You must labor habitually and perseveringly 
to do good — to save the souls of men. By his labors, the 
Saviour conferred rich and everlasting benefits on the hu- 
man family. You, my brother, though you are feeble, and 
though " without Him you can do nothing," must resolve, 
in his strength, that the world shall be the better for your 
living in it. There is no arrogance in this. Such a reso- 
lution may and should be made in full view and under a 
deep sense of your own insufficiency and weakness. Though 
you might adopt the language of the Apostle and say, I am 
"less than the least of all saints;" yet, with the same 
Apostle, you may say, " / can do all things through Christ 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 9 

which strengtheneth 7we." Determine then, looking up to 
him for aid, that the world shall feel your influence. De- 
termine that, Christ assisting you, you will be instrumental 
in saving many of your fellow-men. 

To prepare you for this work, reflect that Christ saves 
his people that they may serve him, not merely that they 
may he saved ; not mainly that they may be happy in the 
world to come, and have a harp of gold and a crown of 
glory in heaven, though this, if they are faithful, is their 
sure reward ; but he saves them that they may do his 
work, be his representatives among men, the instruments 
of saving others and of renovating the world. This is their 
appropriate business, and for this purpose, mainly, the Sav- 
iour calls them into his family. For this object you, my 
brother, have been called, if you are indeed a disciple. 
And your most solicitous inquiry should be. How shall I 
fulfil the purposes of my high calling ? 

Labor sysiematlcally. Place your object distinctly be- 
fore your mind, and then pursue it with steady, undeviating 
purpose. Many professed Christians seem to act at random 
in whatever they do to promote the cause of Christ. They 
have no settled principles of action — no fixed purposes. 
They wait for some unusual impulse, and while they /eel 
it, throw themselves into a course of Christian eflTort, and 
labor, it may be, very strenuously, but without plan or sys- 
tem, and of course with little good effect. When the im- 
pelling influence is removed, when the gale ceases to blow, 
they sink down again into listless inactivity ; perhaps, into 
criminal backsliding. Such short and fitful efforts are the 
bane of Christian influence. Tliey give an inconsistency 
to the character of professors of religion, which is the great- 
est obstacle to their usefulness and the world's conversion. 
Be not like unto them. 

Fix deeply in your mind that you are to labor constant- 
ly, earnestly; and do all you can for the building up of 
Christ's kingdom. Then adopt your system, and lay your 

VOL. XII. 16* 



10 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

plans accordingly. Christians operate in different spheres 
and departments ; yours is one, and your neighbor's, per- 
haps, another. But each of you has an appropriate work. 
And there are duties devolving on all; to the discharge of 
vi^hich, if you would show the spirit of the Saviour, you 
must feel sacredly and irrevocably devoted. 

1. Labor for the conversion of your children. This, if 
you are at the head of a family, is your first duty with 
reference to the world's conversion. I have already spoken 
of your example before your children. I now speak of 
your direct efforts for their conversion. Adopt it as a truth 
taught in the word of God, and corroborated by experience, 
that if you are faithful in this work, you may expect to be 
successful. Let your children see and know that you have 
this object in view. Let your conversation, your teaching, 
your prayers, your family government, show plainly what 
your object is. Let them see that your heart is set upon it, 
and that you cannot rest till they are brought into the fold 
of Christ. The means you adopt must vary in some degree 
with the age and circumstances of your children. Much 
kindness, care, and skill are necessary in selecting these 
means. But if your heart is unalterably fixed on the object, 
its promptings, guided by the word of God, will supply you 
with means and motives and persevering diligence. Never, 
never give up, nor lose sight of this object, till it is attained. 

The Christian who is the instrument of saving his own 
children, and who forms them to be active agents in saving 
others, performs his first great duty towards the conversion 
of the world. He, in this way, not only exerts a present 
influence for Christ, by adding his own sons and daughters 
to the company of believers, but through them he extends 
his influence to succeeding generations ; and many will 
hereafter regard him, not only as their natural progenitor, 
but as their spiritual father, through whose efforts they were 
made servants of Christ on earth, and joyful saints around 
his throne on high. 



THE SriRlT OF CHRIST. 11 

But if the professed Christian, by negligence or sloth, 
should fail in this work, as he is very likely to do, if, under 
some of the forms of religion, he trains up his children 
to seek their portion in this world, he begins, and takes 
nieasures to perpetuate, a mischief of incalculable amount 
and eternal duration. These partly Christian-taught world- 
lings often present a more brazen front and determined op- 
position to spiritual religion, tiian the children of irreligious 
parents. They are, in almost all communities, among the 
most formidable obstacles to the salvation of vsouls and the 
conversion of the world. They learned from their parents 
that a profession of religion did not mean much, that it might 
be held in connection with a worldly spirit and a heedless 
neglect of others' salvation ; and now they are mere nominal 
Christians, exerting the same deadly influence themselves ; 
or they live in utter neglect of religious duties, which paren- 
tal influence led them to despise. 

Christian parents, set your hearts on the conversion of 
jTpur children. Pursue this object as your first business on 
earth; and pursue it till it is efTected, or you die in the 
attempt. You will not, if your heart be full of this object, 
labor in vain. God will bless your efforts. His word says, 
Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is' old 
he will not depart from it. 

2. Whether or not you have children of your own — 
whether you are young or old, your neighbors have chil- 
dren, many of whom need your efforts to bring them into the 
fold of Christ. Engage, then, in vigorous and untiring efforts 
to save the children and youth of your neighborhood. Have 
you a Sabbath school ? Aid it constantly by a cheerful, 
stirring, energetic agency. Have you no Sabbath school ? 
Then form one. Whether you are old or young, rich or 
poor, male or female, begin a school. If no one, at first, 
will assist you, and if you cannot get together more than 
two scholars, commence a school. In either case, stand 
always ready to act as a teacher, or as a visitor to collect 



12 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

scholars, or as an agent of some kind, ever prepared to do 
any work to sustain these nurseries of Christian knowledge 
and piety. Labor either in or for Sabbath schools, as long 
as God gives you strength to do it. And labor directly for 
the conversion of the members of the school. You can 
bring some neglected child or wayward youth into tlie 
school. Do it. Then do it again, in another case. And 
say not that you have the spirit of the Saviour, unless you 
are willing to " go out into the highways and hedges, and 
compel them to come in, that his house may be filled." 

Remember, too, that there are thousands of children and 
youth within the limits of our extended country, who are 
not brought under the influence of Sabbath school instruc- 
tion, whose welfare, though you cannot visit them personally, 
you can effectually promote. Combine your influence and 
efforts with others, to extend the blessings of these institu- 
tions to every city, village, and township of our land. 

Engage, also, in other plans for the benefit of the rising 
generation. Exert your influence to have the right kind 
of teachers employed in common schools. Let any and 
every judicious plan for the intellectual and moral improve- 
ment of youth have your cordial approbation and your 
wifling support. 

In short, manifest the spirit of the Saviour in being de- 
voted to the work of seeking the salvation of the rising gen- 
eration. Deny yourself — as you are bound to do by the 
terms of your discipleship ; engage in faithful and perse- 
vering efforts to spread the beauty of holiness over the 
youth of our country. Show yourself a Christian and a 
patriot, by your exertions for this purpose ; and never omit 
them, till your Lord calls you into his upper kingdom. 

3. Are there not many of adult age around you, with 
whom you have intercourse, who are living in a state of 
impenitence ? You are hound, by your allegiance to Jesus 
Christ, to make direct and continued efforts for their conver- 
sion. What, my brother, are you doing for them '' Do 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 13 

you ask, What shall I do ? Sjyeak to them about their eter- 
nal interests. Urge them affectionately and earnestly to 
attend to the salvation of their souls. Do it repeatedly, 
and do it with a heart overflowing with anxiety on account 
of their carelessness, guilt, and danger. It may be — it has 
often been in such cases — that by these means you may 
awaken solicitude in their bosoms, and thus save souls from 
death. 

Do any of your neighbors neglect public worship ? 
Try to persuade them to attend. Afford them all the 
facilities for doing it that you are able to do. Offer them a 
seat, and sit in the aisle yourself, if there is no other place 
for you. At any rate, do something, to get reluctant indi- 
viduals into the house of God, and thus to save the dying 
souls around you. 

When you take a man into your employment, make it 
an invariable condition that he regularly attend public wor- 
ship. Have no such arrangements in your dwelling as to 
prevent your household from going habitually to the house 
of God. Go without your dinner on the Sabbath, rather 
than keep any of your family employed in cooking. And 
if you are a wealthy man, and ride to church in your car- 
riage, let it be so arranged that your coachman may attend 
the public service. If this cannot be done, then go to your 
place of worship on foot. Never keep a being, who has a 
soul, away from public worship, to contribute to your tem- 
poral comfort, unless you are sick upon your bed. 

Not only converse privately with your impenitent 
friends and neighbors, and urge them to love and serve 
God, but go also, at least once a week, with one or two of 
your brethren, and hold a meeting for prayer and confer- 
ence among those who are living estranged from God. 
Here collect as large a number as you can, and talk and 
pray in such a manner that they will believe you are in 
earnest for their salvation. This can be done. This must 
be done far more extensively than ever it has been, or the 



14 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

Gospel will never be preached to every creature. Make 
no excuse. Do it. 

The systematic circulation of religious Tracts and 
books, affords a very favorable opportunity for doing good — 
for conversing with your neighbors on their eternal inter- 
ests. Neglect not to avail yourself of this means of enrich- 
ing your own soul with the active graces of the Christian 
life, and of imparting. the bread of heaven to the famishing 
around you. Imitate the Saviour by going about doing 
good in this manner. But perhaps you live where no such 
effort has been commenced. Then commence it. Get 
some of your friends to join you, and begin the distribution 
in your village, or township, or city. And if nobody wall 
join you, select a district yourself, and buy the Tracts, and 
present one monthly, or oftener, to every family in that 
district. If you are so poor that you cannot spend twenty 
or ten cents for Tracts, once a month — and it may be so, 
for many who are rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, 
are, nevertheless, poor in this world — then go to some 
wealthy professor of religion, and beg him to furnish you 
the money, and pledge yourself to distribute the Tracts. 
If he refuses to aid you, and you can find none in your 
neighborhood who will furnish the money, then sit down 
and write to the Tract Society, stating the circumstances, 
and requesting a grant of Tracts. If you do this, with 
your heart full of the object, you will be supplied with 
Tracts for your benevolent work. If you are ready to 
bestir yourself with zeal and energy in this work, you will 
not long be destitute of the means. 

Let every reader of (his Tract do another thing. Hav- 
ing read it yourself, take it in your hand and go to some 
brother in the church. Perhaps you may find one who is 
not sufficiently awake to the duty of manifesting the spirit 
of the Saviour, in efforts to convert the world. Go to such 
an one. Do not leave the Tract in his house, and depart, 
saying nothing about it. Perhaps he has already one of 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 15 

the same kind, which he has not read. But sit down with 
him ; read it over ; converse about it, and endeavor to kin- 
die in his soul, and your own too, a glowing desire for tiie 
salvation of men. Do this in another case, and then in 
another. By this means you may awaken a new and bet- 
ter spirit in some of your brethren, and thus increase the 
number and the activity of the agents in the Saviour's 
cause. If you quicken a Christian in duty, you increase 
the means for the world's conversion. 

4. " The field is the world.^^ Lift up your eyes, my 
brother, and look over this field. Its extreme limits only 
should bound your efforts for man's salvation. The mill- 
ions in Christian lands, who are destitute of the privileges 
of the Gospel, and the hundreds of millions in the heathen 
world, who have never heard of a Saviour, should come in 
for a large share in your liveliest sympathies and most 
strenuous efforts. It is too late for you to ask, How can I 
benefit those afar off? You know, or might know, how 
you can do it. You can aid efficiently in sending Tracts, 
and the Bible, and missionaries of the cross, to all the des- 
titute on the globe. You can prosecute your worldly occu- 
pation with the fixed determination to glorify God and save 
the souls of men with the avails of your business, you 
can labor on your farm, or toil in your shop, or traffic in 
your merchandise, or pursue the business of your profes- 
sion, or manage your already accumulated estate, with the 
supreme and unalterable design of devoting a liberal por- 
tion of your property to the object of converting the world. 
And this you are bound to do, by the very terms of your 
discipleship, and by all the obligations of your oath of alle- 
giance to the Son of God. And if you utterly fail to do 
this — if you feel no obligations binding you to faithfulness 
in this respect — you are a traitor to his interests, an Achan 
in his camp, a Judas among his disciples ! 

There are many professed Christians who are willing to 
give something to the various benevolent objects of the day, 



16 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

if they are called wpon to do it ; that is, if some brother 
comes and solicits their subscription or donation ; but at the 
same time, they are very willing that the collector should 
not come ; and if not thus called upon, they will give no- 
thing, except perhaps a trifle at congregational collections, 
from one year's end to another. Be not, my brother, like 
unto them. Have a regular system of giving. Comply 
with the spirit of the inspired direction : " Upon the first 
day of the week, let every one of you lay by him in store, 
as God hath prospered him.'' Lay your plans beforehand. 
At the beginning of the year, determine how much you 
will give, if God prospers you, at each monthly concert of 
prayer, and then always go to that meeting and carry the 
money yourself. If at any time Providence hinders your 
going — and let nothing but Providence hinder you — hand 
your donation to the receiver during the month, or take 
double the money in your hand to the next meeting. De- 
termine, also, how much you will give to the Bible, Tract, 
Foreign and Domestic Missionary, and Education Societies. 
Give liberally to each ; and if no collector calls, go and 
present your money to some one who will forward it to its 
destined object. Regard the apostolic rule, and " make up 
your bounty beforehand, that the same may be ready, as a 
matter of bounty, and not as of covetousness." Be cheer- 
ful in your giving, remembering that " God loveth a cheer- 
ful giver." And as it regards the amount, remember the 
inspired statement, " Fie that soweth sparingly, shall reap 
also sparingly ; and he that soweth bountifully, shall reap 
also bountifully." 

I pretend not to determine how much any person must 
give. His own means and his own conscience must decide 
this question. Every Christian is bound to give some- 
thing — to give liberally, according to his means. Some 
general rules, however, for deciding this question, may be 
given. Under the Old Testament dispensation, God re- 
quired of his people a tenth of the yearly growth of their 



THE SPIRIT OF CIIKIST. 17 

fields, and of the increase of their flocks and herds, to he 
devoted to religious purposes. Can he require anything 
less under the New Testament dispensation ? Another 
rule: By your profession of religion, you have come under 
obligations to do all you can for the conversion of men. 
This you owe to Him who bought you with his blood. 
Does not this obligation require you to give all you can for 
the conversion of the world ? It certainly does. Lot the 
question then be. How much can I give, in consistency with 
my plain and unquestioned duty to myself and family, fur 
the purpose of supplying this fallen world with the means 
of salvation ? This is the true question. 

But, my brother, in deciding this question, consult not 
your selfish and worldly feelings ; take no counsel of the 
flesh; reject the temptation to indulge in this or that un- 
necessary expense for the aggrandizement of yourself and 
family. What right has a Christian to indulge in an ex- 
pensive style of living, in golden ornaments, in expenses 
for unnecessary travelling, in costly furniture, dazzling 
equipage, or a splendid establishment. Is it not better for 
you to live without these things, than for your fellow-men 
to live without the means of salvation ? And are you not 
bound to " love your neighbor as yourself?" Do you* not 
profess to be a disciple and follower of Him who, when on 
earth, " had not where to lay his head ?" O Christian, if 
you have a disposition to indulge in unnecessary expenses 
and an extravagant style of living, or to hoard up your 
gains in order to be rich, let shame and blushing cover you. 
Look at the example of Jesus, and repent. And when you 
would decide how much you ought to give for building up 
the kingdom of Christ, go into your closet, cast yourself on 
your knees before Him 7vho, though he was rich, yet for our 
sakes became poor, and ask him how much it is your duty 
to give. If you do this in honest sincerity, with an earnest 
desire to know your duty, you will be guided aright. 

Immediately connected with this subject is another, of 
VOL. XII. 17 



18 THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 

vast importance in tlie work of evangelizing the world. To 
sustain our various and necessary religious enterprises, re- 
quires the active agency of many hands, in moving forward 
the different parts of the diversified system. Collectors, 
committees, active officers of benevolent societies, and a 
prompt attendance on their public meetings, are all needed. 

Some Christian professors, who do not refuse to give 
their money, when called upon, are criminally unwilling to 
give a portion of theii time to agencies of this sort. They 
always beg to be excused ; having many pleas of the press- 
ure of business, and the want of time. My brother, for 
what was time given you 1 Was it that you might attend 
exclusively to your own private business or pleasure, and 
neglect the interests of Christ's cause 1 Was this what you 
meant, when you entered into solemn covenant with Jesus 
Christ, to be his servant, to deny yourself for him, and to be 
an agent in building up his kingdom ? If you so under- 
stood the matter. He did not ; and he will hold you re- 
sponsible for fulfilling your obligations as he understands 
them. Examine this matter again. No time to give to 
these agencies ! What if Jesus had said that he had no 
time to come down to earth on his message of mercy ? 
What if apostles had pleaded a want of time, when com- 
manded to go forth and preach the gospel ? What if the 
active Christians of modern days, who have organized and 
sustained all our plans of benevolent effort, and who have 
labored, most of them without compensation, to awaken the 
attention of others to the object, and to enlist the services 
of their fellow-Christians in the work of converting the 
world — what if these had excused themselves from the 
good and necessary work for want of time ? Many of them 
might have made this excuse with as good reason as you. 
Never, my brother, make this excuse again. You have 
time to do all your duty. 

If you have no inclination — and this is the true secret of 
your reluctance — then go to your closet, and stay there on 



THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. 19 

your knees before God, till you get an inclination, and a 
warm heart to engage actively in his service. And then 
go forth to duty ; cheerfully assume the responsibilities of 
a committee-man, or collector of funds, or any other agency 
which God requires you to sustain, and it will surprise you 
to learn how he will enable you to redeem time to engage 
in his work, while you neglect not your own appropriate 
worldly business. Try it faithfully, and learn for yourself. 
And now, my Christian brother, I must take my leave of 
you. But I am unwillinoj to do it, till you have given a 
new pledge to the Lord Jesus Christ to be faithful in his 
service, and to devote to the advancement of his cause the 
entire energies of your being. What say you — will you do 
it ? For your encouragement, look around you. See the 
field already white to the harvest. See the laborers enter- 
ing this field ; one toiling in this part of it, another in that. 
Some have entered on this work amidst the snows of Green- 
land and Siberia ; others are toiling on the sultry plains of 
India. Some are erecting the standard of the cross in the 
land where the Saviour lived and toiled and died ; others 
are unfurling the banner of salvation on the distant islands 
of the sea. Some have gone to the neglected arid abused 
tribes in our western wilderness ; while others expend their 
efforts in circulating che Bible and Tracts, in establishing 
Sabbath schools, and in building up the walls of Zion in 
waste and destitute portions of our own Christian land. See, 
also, how the Saviour fulfils his promise to be with them 
and give success to their efforts. See " the wilderness and 
solitary place glad for them, and the desert blossoming like 
the rose." 

To sustain these laborers in foreign and donnestic fields, 
and to increase their number a hundred fold, every Chris- 
tian man and woman is called upon to arise and help. 
Blessed be jGod, many have heard the call, and have con- 
secrated tiiemselves to the work. By their prayers and 
contributions, with ready hands and willing hearts, they 



20 THE SPIRIT OF CHJilST. 

have a fixed purpose to sustain this benevolent enterprise 
as long as they live. They feel it to be their first and great 
business. They have " opened their mouth to the Lord." 
and they will not go back. The Lord increase the number 
of such church members a thousand fold ! 

And will you, my brother, keep back from the work ? 
Will you permit your brethren to toil without your ready 
and efficient cooperation ? Will you withhold your example, 
your influence, your active efforts, your money ? Or will 
you give in stinted measures, and grudge the time you 
spend in this blessed work ? No — if you are a Christian 
you will not do this. You will come up " to the help of 
the Lord against the mighty." You will gird on the har- 
ness, and never put it off" till you go home to glory. Do 
it, Christian brother, and the Lord will bless you. Do it, 
and you will cheer your fellow-laborers and hasten on the 
work. Do it, and you will see that the agency of man, 
blessed and rendered efficient by the Spirit of God, will 
carry salvation through the earth. Do it faithfully — do it 
till you die ; and then, whether or not you hear the song on 
earth, you will hear it in heaven, and unite in it, and help 
to swell the triumphant strains of the loud chorus : " The 
kingdoms of this world are heco7ne the kingdoms of our Lord, 
and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.^' 



rLBI.lSHtn BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIKTY, 



]Vo. 495. 



THE 



HORRORS OF REMORSE. 



■M J- 



i^;f#Jii V y 

^vWv'.'ii!!#'.::.,,i 




D Y was a young man of highly respectable 

and wealthy parentage — the pride of his father, and the 
boast of his family. Having finished his classical education 

at U college, he commenced the study of the law in the 

— , in the state of New York. 



city of 

The gentleman with whom he was engaged in the pur- 
suit of" legal science, was given to the occasional indulgence 
of the cup, and was, withal, strongly inclined to sceptical 
views on the subject of Christianity. Our young student, 
although piously educated — for his father was a devoted 

VOL. xu. 17* 



2 THE HORRORS OF REMORSE. 

man of God — admiring, in common with others, the talents 
of his master, conld easily apologize lor his corrupt habits, 
as the result of infirmities not uncommon to great men ; 
while he was prepared to look npon that independence of 
spirit, which could dare to call in question the divine au- 
thority of a religion which had received the sanction of ages, 
as indicative of altogether a superior order of mind. Under 
these circumstances, it is not surprising that he should begin 
to look with a jealous eye upon the religion of his father. 
Such was the fact. He gave himfielf to the reading of the 
infidel books which were current at that time — it being now 
about thirty-five years since — and became, as he supposed, a 
confirmed infidel. 

He did not disclose his views to his father, until some 
years alter he had completed the study of the law, and had 
himself engaged in the active business of life. The disclos- 
ure, when made, was deeply painful to the heart of his good 
old father. But he was his darling son ; he was a man of 
talents, highly respected, of fine manners, and high promise. 
By those modest, and seemingly honest suggestions of doubt, 
on certain points connected with the Christian system, as the 
doctrine of the Trinity, for instance, he would work his insid- 
ious w^ay to his father's heart, and so far stagger the good 
man's faith, as often to fill him with the deepest gloom, and 
agonize his soul with despairing apprehensions about the 
great subject of his immortal hopes. 

In this manner some three or four years passed away. 
The son laboring to work his father over to infidelity, aud 
the father struggling to maintain his hold on God. At 
length the painful conflict of faith with infidelity was brought 
to a close. The father sickened, and with a countenance 
beaming with the hope of glory, and his eye fixed on Jesus 
as the resurrection and the life, died. 

No sooner had the spirit of the father fled, than floods 
of conviction, torrents of deep and overwhelming anguish, 
rolled upon the son. In his distress he cried to God, con- 
fessed his infidelity, blessed the memory of his father, and 
thanked God who had kept him steadfast unto the end. His 
scepticism vanished in a moment. He felt that his soul was 
left naked and utterly defenceless before that mighty One 
of Calvary whom he had affected to despise. 

The sins of his life seemed to concentrate into two points. 



THE HORRORS OF REMORSE. 3 

The one, that he had contemned Jesus Christ ; the other, 
that he ha.d labored to persuade his father to abjure his re- 
ligion. With reference to each of these points, he viewed 
himself with the most profound abhorrence and detestation. 
He had been Riled with the pride of intellectual superiority. 
His mind was altogether above the influence of what he 
would term "the superstitious notions" which controlled 
others. He had himself accumulated a fortune, and he an- 
ticipated a large inheritance from his father ; but all these 
things were annihilated from his view, when the Spirit of 
God set his sins in order before him. 

His mental agony, at times, seemed almost insupporta- 
ble. He often prostrated himself on the carpet in his room, 
in presence of the writer, and would call over the name of his 
father, and speak of his virtues and his prayers. "Yes," he 

would say, " prayers for your base, your urmatural son D 

Y , who, but for the interposition of a merciful God, had 

persuaded you, my father, my father, to abjure your blessed 
Saviour." At the mentioning of the name of the Saviour, 
he would break forth in prayer, and pour out his soul to all 
but utter exhaustion, in the depth of his agony. Often when 
walking the floor, he would cry out, in the anguish of his 
spirit, "Wretch that I am : I have denied my Saviour — I 
am guilty of the sin of damning my father's soul ; because it 
would have been damned, if God had not held him up. I 
'Wanted to make my fat he/- an infidel, and in that desire I 
had the spirit of a devil." 

The Avriter went with him, on a certain occasion, to visit 
a friend who was employed in conducting a furnace. We 
were in the establishment at the time the workmen were 
pouring out the melted ore, like liquid fire. After having 
looked at it for a few moments, he turned to me, and with 
trembling lip, his face pale as death, said, 

" My friend, were that lava to be poured upon my flesh, 
the pain it would inflict would be less than the agony, and 
anguish, and horror of mind which I experience almost in- 
cessantly during my wakeful moments, and which often fill 
my nightly visions. There is no need that hell should be 
composed of elemental fire, as a means of punishing the un- 
godly. Sir, G(xl has let my conscience loose upon me, and 
that is more painful to me than if I were bathed, as to my 
body, in that liquid element. The fire that burns within 



4 THE HORRORrf OF REMORSE. 

fastens upon the soul, the spiritual portion of man. The 
agony which it occasions, is the agony of an mimortal na- 
ture, and God has chosen the most highly adapted elements 
in the material world to convey to our minds, as far as the 
nature of the case admits, some appropriate idea of- the in- 
conceivable intensity of that anguish which the soul will 
feel when he shall leave it to lyrey upon itself to all eter- 

A man who had so sinned against the instructions of his 
youth, who had so much and so long troubled the faith and 
darkened the hopes of a pious father, and poured such con- 
tempt on the cross of Christ, might well be expected to en- 
dure no ordinary conviction. Under the anguish of mind 
which has here been but feebly portrayed, he continued for 
the space of nearly three months, when it pleased God to 
beam upon his soul with the mild influence of hope. He 
became a most devoted disciple of Jesus, and a bold defender 
of his cause. His voice was heard in the conference-room, 
and in the social praying-circle, in humble acknowledgment, 
as being one born, like Paul, "out of due time," and brought 
back, by the hand of sovereign mercy, from the very mouth 
of hell. He has, some years since, gone to his rest, where, 
doubtless, he has met the sainted spirit of his father, and 
where, amid the mighty company of the redeemed, we trust 
he is contributing, to the full extent of his immortal powers, 
to swell the tide of heavenly song. 

Let it be remembered, that it is one thing to scout at the 
idea of an elementary hell, as many infidels and Univer- 
salists do, under the persuasion, cheering to an impenitent 
heart, that now they may indulge in sin without the appre- 
hension of danger — and that it is quite another, to break away 
from the control of that mighty God, "who knoivs lioiv to 
reserve the unjust unto the day oi judgment to be ininhhedy 
Let the experience of the subject of this narrative be remem- 
bered, and the import of that solemn declaration be well 
weighed : " Sir, God has let my conscience loose upon 

ME." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 496. 

WHY WILL YOU DIE? 



It is the expostulation of infinite Love. With a com- 
passion and condescension which angels can never measure, 
the Lord of glory bends from his throne to warn you of your 
danger, and invite you to turn and live. 

Will you not hear Him, your Creator, speaking to you in 
a voice so solemn and so tender ? He knows that you must 
die, unless you turn. His honor, justice, truth, and the in- 
terests of the universe demand it. He would tarnish the 
lustre of his throne, he would lose the reverence and confi- 
dence of angels, he would cease to be God, should he save 
you without repentance. It is therefore a settled, eternal 
principle of his throne — the sinner must turn, or die. In the 
nature of things it is certain. Sin, persevered in, must de- 
stroy you, in whatever world you may be placed. Were you 
before the throne of God, amid the glories of heaven and the 
songs of angels, sin, cherished in the heart, would make you 
wretched. By the very laws of your being, therefore, you 
must turn or die. 

But why will you die ? AYhy will you not turn ? Are 
the pleasures of sin too great to be relinquished ? Are they 
sufficient to counterbalance the pains of death ? What are 
the pleasures of sin ? The excitements of an impure im- 
agination, of unhallowed passion, of depraved appetite — 
transient as the morning dew, and diminished by every re- 
peated indulgence — unsatisfying and vain. Have you not 
found them so ? 

But what are the pains of death ? What is it to die ? 
I speak not of the death of the body. That you cannot 
avoid. It comes alike to all. There is another death infi- 
nitely more dreadful — the death of the soul. Not its anni- 
hilation. That were comparatively a blessing. It is to lose 
the favor of God, to be shut out of heaven, to be consigned 



2 WHY WILL YOU DIE? 

to tlie darkness of the bottomless pit, to lose eveiy vestige 
of virtue, to be abandoned to the unrestrained rage of all 
unholy passions, to the cravings of ungratified desire, to the 
just Avrath of God, to the horrors of remorse, to the com- 
panionship of fiends, and the agonies of despair. This is to 
die. This is the second death. And it is death eternal. 
The pleasures of sin " are for a season." But the pains of 
death are for ever. " The worm dieth not, and the fire is 
not quenched." Will you rush upon such a death ? 

Do you say, there is no danger, that your ways are not 
evil ? But are they holy ? You know who has said, " With- 
out holiness no man shall see the Lord," and " he that is 
not with me, is against me." If you have not sincerely 
repented, if you have not cordially received the Lord Jesus 
Christ as your Saviour, if you have not been renewed in the 
spirit of your mind, you are most assuredly walking in the 
way to death. But perhaps you feel this, and go to the 
other extreme. 

Is it, then, the recklessness of despair? Is there no 
hope ? Has God " in anger shut up his tender mercies ?" 
Have you adopted the unbelieving language of ancient 
Israel, " If our transgressions and our sins be upon us, and 
we pine away in them, how should we then live ?" God 
has indeed uttered awful denunciations against transgressors. 
But does he therefore delight in their death ? Hear his own 
declaration — his solemn oath : "As I live, saith the Lord 
God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; but 
that the wicked turn from his way, and live." 

God is love. Can infinite Benevolence delight in sufixjr- 
ing ? God is your Creator, your Father. Can a tender 
father take pleasure in the death of his children ? You 
instantly repel the horrid thought. Can God then take 
delight in your death ? What has he not done to convince 
you that he takes no such delight ? Has he not given his 
only begotten Son, has he not given you his word, his Sab- 
bath, the ministry of the gospel ? How many tender calls, 
how many blessed influences has he sent after you. What 



WHY WILL YOU DIE ? . 3 

more could he have done to show you that he has no dehght 
in your death, but rather that you turn and Uve ? 

Is it his fearful justice that discourages you ? "Well it 
might but for that wonderful expedient which his own in- 
finite wisdom devised. The claims of justice have been met 
by the death of his beloved Son. " Christ Jesus came into 
the world to save sinners. He was made a curse for us. He 
bore our sins in his own body on the tree. He gave himself 
a ransom for many." Justice and mercy are now reconciled, 
are glorified. God can " be just, and the justifier of him 
that believeth." Why then Avill you die ? 

Are you holden by the cords of your iniquity ? I know 
that the chains of sin are strong, and that you in yourself 
are weak. But is there not One able to help you, and does 
he not proffer his aid ? He who commands, Repent, is also 
"exalted to give repentance and remission of sins." He 
who says. Return unto me, invites you also to say, " Turn 
me, and I shall be turned." Go to the work with sincere 
and earnest effort, trusting in him to " work in you to will 
and to do," and you will not fail. 

The way, then, is plain ; the encouragement ample. 
" All things are ready." If you die, it will be because you 
choose to die. But why will you die ? Why spurn the only 
life suited to your nature ; the only happiness that can iill 
an immortal mind ? Why will you destroy that soul, so 
noble in its origin, so sublime in its nature, so wonderful in 
its powers, so vast in its capacities ! Restored to the perfec- 
tion and beauty of the divine image, it might shine before 
the throne of God an angel of light. In its ever-increasing 
knowledge, in the contemplation of the divine glory, in the 
exercise of all holy affections, in the smiles of divine favor, 
in the fellowship of angels, and amid the pure and lovely 
scenes of heaven, what immeasurable happiness might it 
realize in the progress of unwasting ages. Oh, why will 
you despise such boundless bliss ? Why rush upon death ? 
Why plunge that immortal spirit into utter and irretrievable 
ruin, and quench its lustre in everlasting night ? 



4 WHY WILL YOU DIE? 

Is it any wonder that the Son of God should weep over 
such a scene ? You cannot die without most fearful guilt 
and aggravated condenniation. What motives must you 
despise, what cords of love must you break, before you can 
perish I The light of divine truth, the compassion of a dying 
Saviour, the instructions of the sanctuary, the warnings and 
entreaties of friends, perhaps the counsels, examples, and 
prayers of pious parents, and it may be their injunctions 
pressed home upon the heart around the dying bed, the 
warnings of conscience, and the strivings of the Spirit — these 
are the sacred influences that have been cast around you to 
keep you from ruin. Why will you break through them all, 
and urge your way down to death ? If you perish, yours 
must be a doom deeper than that of common sinners. Why 
then will you die ? 

Still the tender expostulation is heard. It comes from 
the garden of Gethsemane, from the hall of Pilate, from the 
hill of Calvary, from every bleeding wound of the expiring 
Saviour^ from the tomb of Joseph, from the throne of glory, 
from the harps of angels, from the songs of the redeemed ; 
it is repeated by saints on earth, reiterated in the soul by 
conscience and the Spirit ; it comes back from the grave, and 
from the bar of judgment ; it comes up from the bottomless 
pit, amidst the wailings of the lost, with piercing cry, Why 
ivill you die ? 

And now, fellow-sinner, ivill you die ? Will you not 
turn and live ? Has any feeling of tenderness been awak- 
ened in your bosom by this appeal ? Oh, cherish it. Do 
not defer the subject, as you have often done before. Be- 
ware how you grieve the Spirit. Go immediately to God, 
throw yourself at his feet, and w4th a broken heart confess 
your sins, implore his forgiveness, and resolve, trusting in 
his grace, henceforth to live to his glory. " Believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 497. 

CAES READY! 



''Cars ready/'' — "Boat ready T — "Stage ready!'' 
What traveller has not felt the stirring influence of these 
words, especially w^ien he has been delayed upon his jour- 
ney ? Having been thus detained several hours at one of 
our great railroad depots, I was led to reflect upon the scene, 
and I hope not without some personal benefit. 

Beneath the large upper room where the passengers 
waited, the railroad tracks from the East and the West, the 
North and the South, centred. The hall was large and com- 
fortable ; provided with abundant refreshments, and oppor- 
tunity was afforded for reading and conversation. Yet none 
seemed contented ; all waited impatiently for the signal to 
be off, not even laying aside their hats and outer garments ; 
and some standing for hours at the windows, to catch the first 
glimpse of the cars that were to carry them on. And when- 
ever a steam- whistle or engine-bell was heard, all would rush 
towards the windows ; nor could they suppress a murmur of 
disappointment when they found that only a freight train had 
arrived, or engines were mancEuvi-ing about the depot. After 
a time the hall bell rang, and the announcement came, "Cars 
ready for Boston and Albany I" when all sprung to their 
feet, and more than half instantly disappeared. But the 
rest were obviously disappointed that their turn to go had 
not come. Nor did it come till a dark and stormy evening 
had set m. But when the signal was given, " Cars for New 
Haven ready !" I did not see that any of us were less anx- 
ious to go, through fear that, out of the regular time as we 
were, and dark as it was, a collision with other trains might 
occur, which did in fact take place, with loss of limbs and 
Ufe. 

As I witnessed these scenes. What a striking represen- 
tation have we here, said I to myself, of this world I As 
travellers are almost constantly arriving at this depot, and 
as often departing, so it is with those entering life and pass- 
ing into eternity. In both cases their stay is short. Arriv- 
ing at this spot, they ascertain when the train starts upon the 

VOL. XTT. 18 



2 I'ARS READY ! 

route they wish to travel ; and having secured their tickets, 
they take care to be ready when the signal is given — satis- 
fied if, in such circumstances, they can snatch a hasty meal. 
The end of their journey, especially if going home, engrosses 
their attention so much, and promises so much, that they 
cheerfully submit to many inconveniences by the way. 
Alas, here the analogy fails. The traveller to eternity 
seems to feel as if he had reached a permanent home, and 
as if his main bushiess should be, to adorn it and make it 
pleasant and attractive ; and the thing which he is most apt 
to neglect is, to secure a passport for the final stage of his 
journey. He too often puts oft^ the preparation as long as 
possible, and frequently till it is too late, and he is forced to 
go unprepared ; for go he must, when the summons comes. 
And instead of watching and waiting for the signal, it too 
often startles him out of a delirious dream, and overwhelms 
him with anguish. 

As I saw some standing, hour after hour, at the windows 
of the depot, watching for the opportunity to go, I could not 
but inquire, why the real Christian should not, in like man- 
ner, be waiting always for the chariot of his Lord to convey 
him to his heavenly home ? Does he not love that home 
better than this world ? Are not his dearest friends there, 
ready to welcome him ? And even though he must pass 
through the dark valley and shadow of death to reach the 
place, yet will not holy desire, and strong hope and faith 
urge him on? Some such saints there certainly have been. 
Says Jacob, " I have waited for thy salvation, Lord." 
"All my appointed time will 1 wait," said Job, "till my 
change come." " I have a desire," said Paul, " to depart 
and be with Christ, w^hich is far better." But alas, how 
few do not shrink back in anguish, when disease or danger 
rings in their ears the warning of departure. What a severe 
rebuke to most Christians it is, to see all the crowd at a rail- 
road depot ready and anxious to depart, while they cling to 
their meagre accommodations and enjoyments on earth, and 
shudder and draw back when summoned to their home in 
heaven. Can it be that they really love that home, and the 
bright and glorious spirits congregated there ? 

At the depot men act rationally and consistently ; and 
therefore usually succeed in their plans. But suppose it 
necessary to place a class of men along our raih'oads, whose 



CARS READY ! 3 

sole business should be to persuade travellers to secure tick- 
ets, and be ready when the cars should start. Suppose these 
persons should be continually exhorting all around them, not 
to forget whither they were going ; nor to omit securing their 
regular tickets and seats. And suppose that, in spite of these 
efforts, more than half of the travellers should disregard their 
warnings and entreaties, and as a consequence be lefl behind, 
or be thrown into inextricable difficulty by the way. We 
could not but regard all this as proof of strange infatuation. 
And yet this is a course like that which is taken by most 
men in regard to eternity. As they hurry on from one stage 
to another of the journey of life, there is a class of men meet- 
ing them at every turn, whose business it is to warn them 
of their need of preparation for their last journey, and of 
securing a passport that will carry them through the dark 
valley, and be acknowledged at the portals of heaven. But 
with how little success do these men labor. The great ma- 
jority, in spite of their warnings and persuasions, pass on 
with no such preparation ; and when death rings his piercing 
note in their ears, they awake to their condition only to learn 
that it is too late. And yet, among men, except a few de- 
votedly pious, this infatuation is never blamed ; nay, it is 
thought to be sober reason. Oh, that the lesson taught on 
this subject at a railroad depot, might not be lost. 

Traveller in the railroad car, the steamboat, or the stage, 
have you considered that you are also a traveller to eterni- 
ty ? That journey you must perform, willing or unwilling, 
prepared or unprepared. And, without preparation, that 
journey will be disastrous in the extreme ; but with it, the 
end will he Joy unspeakable and full of glory. The prepa- 
ration may all be summed up in one short sentence : a new 
HEAP^T, AND FAITH IN Jesus ChPcIST. Have you become a 
new creature in him ? You do not complain that certain 
conditions are rigorously insisted on in our public convey- 
ances, even though you cannot see the reason of them all. 
Is it not much more reasonable, that you should submit to the 
terms fixed by an infinitely wise and merciful God, on which 
you can be conducted to the heavenly city ; and does it seem 
a hard saying, that you must be born again, or you cannot 
Bee the kingdom of God? Yet it may be, that while you 
act so reasonably in promptly complying with the terms 
fixed on the railroad, or the boat, or the stage, you have 



4 CARS READY! 

hitherto neglected acquiescence in those only conditions of 
the infinite God, on which you can be saved. 

My friend, there is one circumstance that renders this 
neglect of yours perilous in the extreme. When you have 
ascertained the hour of departure of the car, the boat, or the 
stage, you can safely use the intervening time for business, 
or pleasure ; neglecting to secure a ticket till a few moments 
before you start. But in respect to the time of leaving the 
world, you can make no such calculations. " As the fishes 
that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught 
in the snare ; so are the sons of men snared in an evil time, 
when it falleth suddenly upon them." When you enter the 
car, the steamboat, or the stage, remember that a collision, 
an explosion, or an upsetting, may hurry you in an instant 
into eternity. The only security, then, consists in being 
always ready for your departure. Your passport must al- 
ways be carried, not in your pocket, but in your heart. If 
not obtained till you hear the summons to go, the case is 
almost hopeless. And God has wisely hid from you the 
hour when it will come. 

The infatuation of such neglect appears more manifest, 
when we reflect upon the infinitely greater importance of 
bemg prepared for eternity, than for any worldly change. If 
a man is left behind by the car, the boat, or the stage, he 
does not usually experience an irremediable loss ; and even 
though he thus fails to secure most important worldly objects, 
his loss can usually be more or less repaired ; at least, it can 
be computed. But to go out of the world unprepared, is to 
sustain an infinite and eternal loss. It can never be reme- 
died — never made less. Such a man loses the favor of God, 
and of all holy beings ; nay, the unspeakable joys of heaven. 
Still more, he is plunged into perdition that has no relief, 
and no end. Can it be that he who reads these pages is in 
such a condition ? As he hears the summons, " Cars ready I" 
"Boat ready I" "Stage ready!" let him be reminded how 
soon a more startling summons will break upon his ear : 
" Prepare to meet thy God." And let him not rest easy 
another hour, till, " by the washing of regeneration, and the 
renewing of the Holy Ghost," he is prepared to say, when- 
ever he hears his heavenly Master call, " Come, Lord Jesus, 
come quickly I" 

PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



r¥o. 498. 

THE 



AURORA BOREALIS 



But few that saw it will ever foroet the Aurora which 
occurred in the winter of 1836-7. It was pronounced at 
the time the most brilliant and general that had been seen 
by any living man. It was not confined, as it usually is, to 
the northern section of the heavens. The whole horizon was 
illumined by arches of fiery hue, from which columns and 
sheaves of light shot up towards the zenith, forming there a 
fiery coronet of the most transcendent beauty. The agita- 
tion of these columns and sheaves was sometimes very great. 
Of a sudden these agitations would cease, and the light 
would die away ; but in a moment these columns would 
shoot up again in increased size, and with greater splendor, 
giving an appearance of brilliancy and grandeur to the heav- 
ens which called forth the acclamations of the admiring be- 
holders. For some weeks previous the earth had been cov- 
ered with a deep snow ; and such was the effect upon it of 
the Aurora, that streets, fields, and houses looked as if they 
were covered with blood. This remarkable phenomenon 
only disappeared from the sky as the morning light bega*n to 
dawn. 

Soon afterwards I observed, on Sabbath evening, and on 
the evening of the weekly lecture, in a corner of my lecture- 
room, a female who was a stranger to me, and, obviously, to 
the place. Her attention was marked ; her attendance be- 
came regular. Weeks passed away without my knowing 
who she was. I received a request to visit a family where 
was a woman anxious about her soul. As I entered the 
door I was met by the stranger I had seen in the lecture- 
room. Taking my seat by her side, and hearing her frank 
and simple account of her feelings, I asked her if she under- 
stood the plan of salvation through Jesus Christ. Her reply 
was, " I am afraid I do not." 

" Then, madam," said I, "will you permit me to explain 
it to you in a brief and simple manner .'" 

VOL. Xll. 18* 



2 THE AURORA BOREALIS. 

" That," said she, " is the very thing I want you to do." 
" Well, then," said I, addressing her personally, and ap- 
plying every word to herself, "you are a sinner in heart and 
in life. God is angry with you every day. Every sin you 
have ever committed deserves eternal banishment' from God. 
So that you deserve to die as often as you have sinned. 
From the guilt and punishment of sin you cannot relieve 
yourself — nor can man or angel relieve you — nor can bap- 
tism or the Lord's supper, or any other rite, relieve you. 
And such is the nature of your sin, and of the justice and 
government of God, that you cannot be saved unless law 
and justice are satisfied for the many sins you have commit- 
ted." 

Looking at me with a tearful eye, she replied in a sub- 
dued tone, " I feel all this in my soul. My fear of the anger 
of God, which my sins have kindled, is so great that I can- 
not sleep or eat. My tears flow day and night." 

"But," said I, " there is a way of escape from the guilt 
and the punishment of sin. You are a sinner ; and Jesus 
Christ has died for sinners. He bore the sins of all who 
ever have, or ever will believe upon him, in his own body 
on the tree. The law requires us to be righteous, in order 
to enter heaven ; and Christ Jesus is the end of the law for 
righteousness to every one that believes upon him. If you 
feel yourself to be a sinner, you have nothing to do but to 
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ in order to be saved. If you 
repent of sin, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ — if you 
believe what Jesus teaches, if you do as he commands — if 
now, without a moment's delay, you can trust your soul 
and its concerns in the hands of Jesus Christ, without wait- 
ing until you are either better or worse, he will certainly 
save you ; for he says, ' Come unto me, all ye that are weary 
and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' " 

With her eye fixed upon me, she drank in every word 
that I uttered ; and when I concluded, she promptly replied, 
*' This is just the way that suits my case." "Are you will- 
ing now," said I, "to believe in Christ, to take him to be 
your Saviour from all sin?" "Yes," said she, with all 
eagerness, "yes, I take him now to be my Saviour; I cast 
myself now upon the merits of his atonement." 

I prayed with her. I felt that there was a new trophy 
to redeeming grace and love before me. 



THE AURORA BOREALIS. 3 

I now felt desirous to know something about her history 
the leading incidents of which she gave me with great frank- 
ness. She was born and educated a Roman Catholic. 
Though well educated, she was on the subject of religion 
extremely ignorant. Although now in mid-life, all the at- 
tention she ever gave to her soul was to go to mass and to 
confession ; and even that she had given up for years, con- 
vinced of their utter worthlessness. And up to the evening 
of the Aurora Borealis, she never had a conviction of her 
sinfulness. With thousands of others she gazed upon the 
brilhant heavens, and the apparently crimsoned earth. The 
thought of the final conflagration, and of her utter unfitness 
to meet that dread scene, seized her mind, and she retired to 
her room deeply impressed wth the greatness of God, and 
her own sinfulness and ingratitude. Then was made the 
first of those impressions Avhich resulted in her conversion. 

Her husband was a Frenchman, of Protestant parentage, 
but utterly regardless of religion. When he returned home, 
she told him of my conversation with her, and its effects 
upon her mind and heart. She read to him from the Bible, 
and prayed wath him. With his consent she erected the 
family altar. Her fidelity to him created some restiveness, 
and he refused to hear her. In the deepest distress she 
sought my advice. I told her to increase her supplications 
for him in private, but to do nothing that would fret his 
mind, as that would be to defeat her great object. She re- 
tired, resolved to follow my advice. 

Some weeks had passed away without my knowing any 
thing of what was going on in this little family. On a Sab- 
bath evening, and when with a dejected spirit I was think- 
ing that I had spent my strength for naught, she appeared 
in my study with her husband. She narrated her conversa- 
tion and prayers with him, and he frankly confessed his op- 
position of heart to her change of mind, and especially to her 
conduct towards him in pressing religion upon him on all 
occasions. " But," said he, " her prayers and tears have 
broke my heart." 

"1 told John," said she, "that if you w^ould tell him 
what you told me, he would love God too, and that he would 
feel better in his mind and heart. I have strove to tell him 
all, but he does not understand me well enough, and I wish 
you to tell him about Jesus Christ." After hearing with 



4 THK AURORA BOREALIS. 

intense interest their narratives as to each other's conduct, I 
spread out before John the plan of salvation, essentially as 
I had done a few weeks previous before his wife. When I 
got through, I asked him, " How does this plan appear to 
you ?" His reply was, "It is the very one for me — I can 
now and cordially embrace it." I prayed with them; and 
when we rose from our knees, John seemed a changed man. 
Before he left my study, he felt that he could rejoice in Christ 
as his Saviour. 

Not long after, they professed their faith in Christ, and 
although for years beyond the bounds of my ministry, I be- 
lieve they yet live to adorn that profession ; and their con- 
version may be traced up as a means, under God, to the 
Aurora Borealis. 

How plainly this narrative teaches the following truths. 

1 . The means of God for impressing the minds of sinners, 
and leading them to himself for pardon and salvation, are 
exhaustless. 

2. A clear understanding of the plan of salvation through 
a Saviour — of its freeness and fulness — of its sovereign effi- 
cacy when truly relied on, is the only sure way of securing 
peace to the anxious sinner. 

3. How important that the believing wife should labor 
for the salvation of the unbelieving husband, and the believ- 
ing husband for that of the unbelieving wife. 

A word to the reader of this narrative. Are you a care- 
less sinner ? H the Aurora so impressed the mind of this 
woman, what will be your impressions when the elements 
shall melt with fervent heat — when the earth with all that 
it contains, shall be consumed ? Are you an anxious sinner ? 
Then Jesus died for sinners ; and he died for you, because 
you are a sinner. To be saved, you have only to believe 
upon him. Are you a Christian ? Then rise from the pe- 
rusal of this narrative with the resolution to labor for the 
conversion of some soul, as this woman labored for the con- 
version of her husband, and yours may not be a starless 
crown. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETV. 



No. 499. 



THE HAYMOW. 



My first settlement in the ministry was in a valley in 
one of the middle states, beautiful beyond description. A 
broad and winding river enters it at the north, and after a 
course of fifteen miles, makes its exit at the south. The 
valley seems as if expressly made for the home of the Indian ; 
and for moons beyond the power of his arithmetic to calcu- 
late, the red man fished in that river, and planted his corn 
in that rich bottom, and sought his game upon the moun- 
tains. And before he could be compelled to yield it, he 
made the white man feel the power of his anger in many a 
dreadful surprise. 

Early in the history of the settlement of this valley, a 
church was collected there, which continued a feeble exist- 
ence until 18 — , when I became its pastor. Young, ardent, 
and without experience, I here commenced my ministry, in 
a community proverbial both for its intelligence and its 
disregard of religion, amid external opposition, and with a 
church small, and rent by internal discords. 

I entered on my duties with zeal, and was diligent in 
their performance. I prepared my sermons with care' and 
thought them conclusive ; but few heard them, and none 
seemed convinced by them. I felt deeply, but my hearers 
seemed unmoved. My preaching seemed more to excite the 
opposition of the wicked, than the prayers of the pious. I 
seemed to labor in vain. 

There was among my people a man in mid-life, a Ger- 
man by birth, and a remarkably simple-hearted, pure-minded 
Christian. Whoever was absent, he was always present at 
the place of prayer. One evening, early in December, as 
I was about retiring to rest, I heard a knock at my door, 
and my German friend was introduced, his countenance 
full of emotion. On taking his seat, his first words were 
these : " My dear pastor, I have come to tell you that the 
Lord is about to revive his work here." Surprised at his 
appearance and language, and at the lateness of his visit, I 



2 THE HAYMOW. 

asked him, " Why do you think so ?" He repHed as fol- 
lows : "About eight o'clock this evening, I went up to my 
haymow to give hay to my cattle ; and whilst there the 
Spirit of God came upon me, and has kept me there praying 
until nov/. I feel that God is about to revive his work, and 
I could not go in to my family until I told you." The entire 
simplicity and earnestness of the good man convinced me 
that God had vouchsafed to visit his servant. After some 
conversation we parted, mutually agreeing to pray and labor 
lor a revival of religion, and to engage as many as we could 
to do the same. 

A few days convinced me that the spirit of prayer was 
on the increase. Meetings for prayer were numerously at- 
tended. The church on the Sabbath became more full and 
solemn. And a few weeks after that evening of wrestling 
with God on the haymow, found me in the midst of the first 
revival of my ministry, and one of the most precious I ever 
witnessed. 

Permit me to narrate a few incidents Avhich occurred dur- 
ing the progress of this revival, and which illustrate some 
great truths that should not be forgotten. 

Among the first that expressed seriousness, was a fash- 
ionable and well-educated young lady, belonging to one of 
our richest families. She was the pride of a mother whose 
ambition it was to have her shine in elegant society. Miss 

E expressed a hope in Christ. In a few days she was 

sent to spend the winter in one of our principal cities, with 
some gay friends, who were directed to take her to all the 
fashionable amusements. She yielded to the temptation ; 
and when she returned in the spring seemed farther from 
the kingdom of heaven than ever. Another refreshing was 
soon enjoyed, when the former feelings of this young lady 
returned ; she became hopefully pious, and in a few months 
the wife of a godly minister. And her large family, per- 
haps influenced by her example, followed her into the fold 
of Christ. 

There was in the place a young man, a profane, but yet 
an industrious mechanic. Like Nicodemus, he came to me 
by night to know what he should do to be saved. His visits 
Avere often repeated. He thought he understood and could 
joyfully embrace the plan of salvation through Jesus Christ. 
Yielding to the influence of one wicked companion, in a few 



THE HAVMUU'. 3 

weeks he forsook the house of prayer and the people of God. 
As long as 1 knew him afterAvards he was amongst the most 
obdurate men I ever knew. He ripened for ruin ; and not 
long ago, with one stroke, as the woodman removes the sap*- 
ling out of his way, God cut him down. It is a fearful thing 
to quench the Spirit. 

Mr. C was a pleasant, moral, and interesting man. 

Under the prayers and conversations of a pious mother, he 
grew up a friend to the institutions of religion. His mind 
became deeply interested. But a more convenient season 
was always an excuse for the putting aside of present duty. 
In the midst of the revival, when some of the sturdy cedars 
of Lebanon were bowing, his aged mother, with tears, be- 
sought him to make God his portion. "Mother," said he, 
"you are dependent upon me for a subsistence, and so are 
my motherless children. To provide for you all is my pleas- 
ure and my duty. I am now engaged in a very profitable 
work among the mountains, and when I have made enough 
to support you all comfortably, in connection with my own 
industry, I promise you I will attend to religion. But you 
must excuse me now." And with a solemn warning against 
the folly of such reasoning from the lips of his aged mother, 
he hastened to his busmess among the mountains. In a 
few days he was brought back to that mother, and was laid 
at her feet a mutilated corpse. Before he could escape its 
track, a log of timber rolling down a steep precipice, caught 
him, and rolling over him, almost ground him to powller. 
And as we laid him down in the grave, I heard that mother 
exclaim in the bitterness of her sorrow, "Would to God I 
had died for thee, my son, my son," the folly of boasting 
of to-morrow, as we know not what a day may bring forth. 

Some of our pious people undertook the circulation of 
religious Tracts. The Tract, " The Way to be Saved," was 
selected for the purpose of placing in the hands of our people 
a plain and simple guide to the Saviour of sinners. One of 
these was placed in the shop of a mechanic who was noted 
for his profanity and vulgarity. Blotting out the word 
"saved" in the title of the Tract, he wrote in its place 
" damned ;" so that the title, thus altered, read, " The way 
to be damned." Now, tearing it nearly in two, he flung it 
into the street. It was soon picked up by a young M^oman 
deeply serious, who carried it home. She read it with care ; 



4 THE HAYMOW. 

she pasted the torn leaves together, and read it again and 
again. She went as directed, and fomid peace and joy in 
beUeving. And in a conversation with her about her hope, 
she drew from her bosom this mutilated Tract, saying, "This 
is the little book that told me the way to the cross." Thus 
it is that God often makes the wrath of man to praise him. 
These incidents teach us, 

1 . That when faithfully and pra yerfully discharging duty, 
ministers must not be unduly discouraged by unpropitious 
external circumstances. If they go forth weeping, bearing 
precious seed, they will return again with rejoicing, bring- 
ing their sheaves with them. 

2. They teach us the power of prayer. It moves the 
hand that moves the world. That revival, with its conse- 
quent blessings, I have ever traced, under God, to that prayer 
on the haymow. The prayer that God inspires, he will 
answer. 

3. They teach us the awful guilt of parents who sacri- 
fice the souls of their children at the shrines of worldly am- 
bition. And alas, how many such parents there are. 

4. They utter warning notes in the ears of those who 
quench the strivings of the Spirit, or who postpone the duty 
of submission to God noiv to an uncertain future. 

5. They teach us, that even pearls cast before swine may 
not be in vain. Through the wickedness of the wicked, God 
is ever accomplishing his purposes of love. How invincible 
the combined agencies of mercy, when even one mutilated 
Tract becomes the instrument of life from the dead to a 
human soul. 

Years have passed away since this revival occurred. 
Some of its subjects have already entered on their reward. 
That simple-hearted, pious German, has gone up to his 
Saviour, But the influences of that prayer on the haymow 
will live for ever. Good men never die. They rest from 
their labors, but their works do follow them. May our 
churches never want members like him who wrestled and 
prevailed with God on the haymo\\^ 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT. SOCIETY. 



nro. 500. 



"THE DOOR WAS SHUT;" 

OR, 

THE CRISIS OF THE IMMORTAL SOUL. 



In the well-known parable of the ten virgins, Matthew 
25, it is recorded that, " while they went to buy, the bride- 
groom came ; and they that were ready went in with him 
to the marriage ; and the door was shut.'' So to every 
man living there is a moment, somewhere between the cra- 
dle and the grave, when "the door is shut," either includ- 
ing or excluding him for ever. " Afterwards came also the 
other virgins, saying. Lord, Lord, open to us. But he an- 
swered and said. Verily, I say unto you, I know you not.'* 
When once the door is thus shut, it can no more be opened. 
Saved, or lost for eternity, is the result. It is the crisis of 
the soul, which has then passed from a state of probation to 
one of fixed and changeless retribution. And this doom of 
the unpardoned sinner may be passed by an offended God 
when the subject of it is unconscious of the fact, is in the 
midst of life, and perhaps is least apprehensive of such an 
overwhelming decision. Are there, then, any indications 
in the word of God, or in the facts of his providence, by 
which we can learn when we are, for the last time, ap- 
proaching the open door of heaven ? 

Look at the history of wicked men in the Bible. When 
the blood of his brother cried to God from the ground 
against Cain, God did not kill him, but he set a mark upon 

VOL. xir. 19 



2 "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

him, and sent him out a vagabond and reprobate upon the 
earth. So with the old world: God said to Noah, "The 
end of all flesh is come before me." Gen. 6 : 13. Yet it 
was a hundred years from the issuing of that decree and the 
command, " Make thee an ark," to the terrible catastrophe ; 
and all the while Noah preached, and wept, and vexed his 
righteous soul for them ; and they bought and sold, they 
planted, they builded, they married and were given in 
marriage ; but they were doomed. So it was with Pharaoh. 
God sent his wonders upon him, to manifest his own glory ; 
at the same time saying to Moses, " Pharaoh will not hear 
thee." There was no more hope for Pharaoh when the rod 
of Moses became a serpent before him, than when ingulfed 
in the Red Sea. So with Saul, when the Spirit of the Lord 
departed from him, and an evil spirit from the Lord troubled 
him. So with Ephraim, and the Israelites on many occa- 
sions. 

But in the New Testament, and under the plain and 
authoritative teaching of the Lord from heaven, we have the 
most decisive examples on this point. Towards the latter 
part of his ministry, our blessed Lord was accustomed, when 
a crowd of scribes and Pharisees were about him, to impart 
his divine lessons in parables publicly, and afterwards to 
explain them to his disciples. And when it was inquired 
why he did so, he made this memorable reply : " That see- 
ing, they may see and not perceive ; and hearing, they may 
hear and not understand." When he had wrought wonders 
before them, they ascribed it to his intimacy with demons ; 
and when he had spoken plainly, and as never man spake^ 
they were enraged rather than converted ; they had passed the 
point beyond which mercy would ever reach them. They 
were given over to judicial blindness, and consequent perdi- 
tion. To them, as a class, he had but one more address to 
make. That was when he went up to Jerusalem for tlie 



THE DOOR WAS SHUT, 



3 



■ last time, and stood in the temple at the great feast — the 
Jewish nation assembled around him — and pointing to the 
scribes and Pharisees, as they sat in Moses' seat, he por- 
trayed their character, and eight times reiterated the terrible 
sentence, " Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo- 
crites !" " Fill ye up, then, the measure of your iniquity. 
Ye serpents ! ye generation of vipers ! how can ye escape 
the damnation of hell ?" " The door was shut." 

On the same occasion, as he looked upon the city of 
Jerusalem, he wept and exclaimed, " If thou hadst known, 
even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong 
unto thy peace ! But now they are hid from thine eyes, 
because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation." Luke 
19 : 42, 44. " Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." 
Matt. 23 : 38. This was forty years before the city was 
destroyed; but "the door was shut." 

In accordance with these facts, are numerous warnings 
of the Bible. " There is a sin unto death." 1 John, 5 : 16. 
" For if we sin wilfully, after that we have received the 
knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice 
for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and 
fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries." Seb. 
10 : 26. " It is impossible for those who were once enlight- 
ened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made 
partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word 
of God, and the powers of the world to come, if they shall 
fall away, to renew them again unto repentance ; seeing 
they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put 
him to an open shame." Heb. 6:4. 

That which the word of God so unequivocally declares 
and illustrates, his providence also still continues to affirm. 
None who have stood by the death-bed of impenitent men, 
doubt that there are still multitudes who outlive their dav 



4 -THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

of grace, and become vessels of wrath, fitted for destruction. 
Nor is it the abandoned profligate alone that takes up the 
lamentation : he wlio has " heard gladly" and " done many 
things," as well as the reckless sinner — the nominal believer 
as well as the scoffing infidel — is suddenly destroyed, and 
cries out in agony, " He will not hear me — it is too late — 
too late !" 

Nor is it certain that this crisis may not be reached long 
before the period of old age. It appears from the bills of 
mortality, kept in tlie most healthy portions of our land, that 
one half of all who are born, die under seventeen years of 
age ; and of those who live, the mass of church members 
are received in youth. To them " the door is shut," and 
shuts them in, if they are true disciples. In almost every 
revival of religion the body of converts are from the circles 
of youth. In a revival of religion in Jackson county, Ga., 
in the summer of 1846, out of eighty hopeful conversions, 
sixty-three of whom united with the church, not more than 
three or four were past the age of twenty-five. In the great 
work in Athens, which followed, there was a similar pro- 
portion of youth. In other revivals in the same state, in 
1845 and 1846, including in all not far from five hundred 
additions to the churches, at least as large a proportion were 
from twelve to twenty-five years of age ; and these facts are 
perhaps a fair average throughout the country. Ponder it, 
ye who are putting far oif the evil day, and trusting to ad- 
vanced life to enter the gate of heaven ! 

There is another view by which many seek to shield 
themselves from the arrows of truth. They are disposed to 
say, " If this crisis comes before death, and even early in 
life, it will be in the commission of some atrocious act of 
wickedness, or course of abandonment to sin. I am surely 
in no danger, in the calm, unrufiied pathway of a moral 
life." But beware, lest a fatal delusion be practised upon 



"THE liOOK WAS SHUT." 5 

you by the father of lies. Look at one or two illustrations 
of this matter. A greater distance can scarcely be con- 
ceived between two mere men, than there was between 
George Washington in his last days, and a robber on the 
gallows. But what was the crisis with eacli of them ? 

With the robber, it was not when he presented the pis- 
tol to his victim's breast, in that last act of infamy for whicli 
he was condemned to be hung. When the chaplain in- 
quired of him, what had brought him to that dreadful end, 
he replied, " When I was a schoolboy, 1 stole a gold pin ; and 
O," said he, " 1 would have given the world, the moment it 
was done, if it had been back again. But I was not de- 
tected, and did not return it. I was emboldened in sin. I 
next took a knife ; then a roll of cloth, etc., and here I am." 
The struggle of conscience was in his first act of transgres- 
sion, and he was lost to virtue from that hour. 

Look now at Washington. How glorious his career m 
the Revolution, and how transcendently so the hour when 
he stood before Congress to deliver up to them his sword, 
his commission, and his authority, and return to his farm. 
But that was not the crisis with him. With his character, 
he coifld not have done otherwise on that occasion. "We 
must look far back into the nursery to find the moment that 
formed him for unparalleled greatness. When he confessed 
his fault in the matter of the cherry-tree ; or ordered his 
trunks brought back, when his heart was set upon going to 
sea, saying, "I will not grieve a mother's heart;" then 
were established in him the principles of his future renown. 

In like manner, the soul may receive its character for 
immortality far back of those marked external acts which 
make it apparent to the person and the world. 

Let it also be considered, that every sinner is dependenl 
upon the Spirit of God, which may at any time leave him 
to himself. 

VOL. XII. . 19* 



Q "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

In this respect, he may be compared to a ship upon 
the Niagara river, between lake Erie and the falls. The 
calm, still waters of the lake are above it, the thunder- 
ing precipice below, and all the way between a constantly 
increasing current, bearing it downward ; while a propi- 
tious breeze is blowing towards the lake, sufficient to over- 
come the power of the current and waft it upward to the 
lake. But the sails are all furled ; the captain and all on 
board wish to enjoy the pleasant scenery around them. 
Some doubt whether there is any cataract; others think 
there is, but that it is so far off that it need not be feared 
yet ; they can turn at any time. Thus they float merrily 
along, amid wine, and song, and dance, and revelry, so in- 
tent upon their pleasure that for hours they do not notice a 
fearful fact, that the wind has ceased to Mow. At length 
they are roused from their dream of security, and look out 
upon the calm, blue heavens : not a leaf moves. They are 
filled with dismay. The captain cries out, " About ship — 
put on all her canvass." " Ay, ay, sir," replies the helms- 
man, and the helm is " hard up." The sails are spread, 
but they flap against the masts. There is no power in the 
helm. She turns her prow to the lake of safety ; tfUt it is 
only to float backwards down the stream. The current in- 
creases ; they shriek aloud for help ; but help cannot come. 
They ply their oars, but there is no perceptible, check to the 
descent. Islands and green banks seem to be gliding past 
them like magic; the thundering roar of the cataract is 
heard ; now tliey enter the curling and eddying rapids ; a 
few moments of agonizing cries of despair, and a few of 
breathless, silent, shivering expectation, and the noble ship 
plunges into tlie abyss, and is dashed to atoms. But when 
was that ship lost ? Not merely when it struck the foaming 
flood, but when the wind ceased to blow upon it, as it floated 
quietly on that smooth stream; when the only agency that 



"TJIK DOOR WAS SHUT." 7 

could possibly arrest its downward course, ceased to act; 
then destruction was as sure as at the last moment. 

In like manner, the soul that God lias left may float 
down the stream of time, and dream of safety and future 
repentance, while it is lost. Its day of merciful visitation 
is passed. " The door is shut." 

If, then, we are liable at any moment to pass the bound- 
aries of hope, and those bounds are not always made obvi- 
ous by the commission of heinous acts of wickedness, how 
important is the inquiry, What circumstances indicate its 
approach ? 

The general principle is clearly laid down in the Bible. 
It is when one is brought, under the united energy of all the 
influences that God has appointed to affect the heart, to the 
very threshold of heaven's gate, and there deliberately de- 
cides to enter, or not to enter. He is enlightened — instructed 
in the Gospel — made to taste of the heavenly gift — to feel 
the reality of an atoning sacrifice — partakes of the influences 
of the Holy Ghost, and thus is convinced of sin. His con. 
viction sends him to the good word of God for additional in- 
struction ; that word lays full before him the powerful real- 
ities pertaining to the world to come. Thus, with the voice 
of conscience quickened by the Spirit of God, the cross of 
Christ, death, judgment, heaven, and hell before him, he 
decides, and that decision may be for eternity. It may be 
God's last call ; and if slighted, these influences may never 
be renewed so as to lead that soul to repentance. But while 
the general principle is plain, its application is as various as 
the pursuits and characters of men. We will, therefore, 
look at some of the most common forms in which persons 
are brought to such a decision. 

Many pass this crisis when brought almost to the pur- 

rOSE OF GIVING UP THEIR CHOSEN FORM OF SIN. 



g "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

With some, the love of money is the ruling passion. 
With them gold is god, and gain is godliness; but there 
comes a time when the voice of Christ is heard, saying, 
" What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and 
lose his own soul ?" 

Such a man was D , a merchant in Indiana. He 

had been most ardently devoted to the attainment of wealth, 
and none too scrupulous of the means of increasing it. But 
his attention was awakened to the interests of his soul. Like 
Nicodemus of old, he came to the writer by night to inquire 
upon the subject. He said he knew his soul was in danger ; 
that religion was necessary ; " but," said he, " if I become 
a Christian, I mut^t give up my store, for no man can do 
business here upon Christian principles and make money." 
There he stood, with his store in one scale, and God and 
eternity in the other, deliberately weighing one against the 
other. Long and fearful was the struggle, for the scales 
were equipoised, and it was his crisis ; but at length, by 
the grace of God, his hold upon the world was relinquished, 
and he closed with the overtures of mercy. " The door was 
shut," and shut him in. He has since gone to his rest. 

On the other hand, look at the young man in the Gospel. 
He came to Christ with candid inquiries after the way of 
life ; he was eminently moral and amiable, so that the Sav- 
iour said, " Thou art not far from the kingdom of heaven ;" 
but he was rich, and his heart was fixed upon his wealth ; 
and when the searching requisition of Christ was addressed 
to him — " Go, sell all that thou hast, and give to the poor ; 
and come, follow me " — he was brought to the same awful 
moment. His riches were in one scale, and Christ in the 
other. He lingered, and sorrowed, but he went away, and 
we never more hear of his coming to the Saviour, or ap- 
proaching the kingdom of God. 

So multitudes of the votaries of wealth, when conscience 



"THE l;OOR WAS SHUT." 9 

-speaks and the Spirit moves, pause and hesitate, and almost 
determine to leave all and follow Christ. It is the crisis. 
They reluctantly, but deliberately cleave to their worldly 
enterprise and treasures ; God gives them up, and " the 
door is shut." They pass on, perhaps, through years of* 
prosperous business, and surrounded with numerous sources 
of earthly joy, till in an unexpected moment they are sum- 
moned to the bar of judgment. Then they cry, " Lord, 
Lord, open unto us ;" but there is none to hear. 

Again, with others, amhition is the ruling passion — to be 
deemed great and distinguished among men. Avarice to 
them is a sordid passion ; money is freely sacrificed at the 
altar of fame. But there comes a period when^they sigh 
for immortal blessedness. 

Two lawyers in I were awakened under the same 

means of grace ; and the truth, applied by the Holy Spirit, 
came home with power to their consciences. 

One of them had been somewhat sceptical, and great 
pride of character stimulated him to resist. He tried to 
absent himself from the house of God, but a resistless agency 
impelled him to go. He feigned indifference, and struggled 
to parry off the shafts of truth ; but they sunk deeper and 
deeper into his heart. The conflict became intense. Pres- 
ent reputation in one scale, and life and death in the other. 
At length he decided ; rushed to the minister to inquire the 
way of salvation ; threw aside the garb of feigned indiffer- 
ence, and found peace in believing. 

The other had been religiously educated, was a nominal 
believer in the evangelical doctrines, and knew well the 
position which he occupied ; but he was a candidate for the 
legislature. When conversed with, he said, " I know that 
I have a more important election to secure than thfit for 
which I am a candidate here. But I have concluded to de- 
fer attention to the subject till after the political question is 



IQ " THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

settled, and then I intend to make the salvation of my soul 
my great object until it is secured." He was reminded 
that he was saying to the Spirit, " Go thy way for this time ; 
when I have a convenient season I will call for thee." He 
acknowledged it was so, but remained resolute in his deter- 
mination to do it. He plunged into the turmoil of a politi- 
cal struggle, the more dangerous because in a region and at 
a time when success required him to open the floodgates of 
intemperance for the corruption of the people. He failed 
in his election ; and instead of seeking the salvation of his 
soul, he sought the intoxicating cup to drown the shame of 
defeat — and became a sot ! 

Now look at those two men, standing side by side at the 
open door of heaven, almost persuaded to enter. How sim- 
ilar their situation ! Who would not have regarded the 
prospect of the nominal believer as the most encouraging ; 
but in a few moments "the door was shut;" one had en- 
tered, and the other was upon the outside. How fearfully 
have their paths since separated ! How much more so will 
they separate in all coming eternity ! 

But with the young, among whom this hour of decision 
is usually passed, pleasure in some form has usually more 
charms than either wealth or fame. 

Two young men, who were intimate friends, were pur- 
suing an academical course of study together, when their 
attention, with several of their schoolmates, was called to 
the subject of religion. They continued for 5ome time 
deeply and similarly impressed, and were brought appar- 
ently near to the kingdom of God. To all human appear- 
ance one was as likely to become a Christian as the other. 

At length one of them yielded the controversy, accepted 
of salvation through grace, and was made partaker of the 
heavenly gift. He is now a beloved and devoted minister, 
near Lake Michigan, and from him this account is received. 



"TIIE DOOR WAS SHUT." n 

The other continued to resist, though the tears and en- 
treaties of his friend were now added to other influences. 
He had been a votary of worldly pleasure, and he still look- 
ed with longing eyes to the ballroom. At length, as they 
walked one moonlight evening, and the powers of the world 
to come were set before him, they came to a large stone, 

upon which they sat. While Mr. K pressed his friend 

to an immediate decision, he rose, and lifting up his hand to 
heaven, exclaimed, " I swear, I will have the pleasures of 
this ivorld, come what may /" " The door was shut." All Mr. 

K could do was to note the progress of his friend in 

silent anguish. He had deliberately rejected God, and God 
rejected him. He cast off fear, and restrained prayer — ■ 
gave himself up to the riot and the dance with redoubled 
eagerness. But he was soon smitten with a disease, that 
crippled one of his limbs. He would then hobble to the 
ballroom and dance upon his crutches. The Lord smote his 
other limb, and disabled them both. He would then beg to 
be carried to the room, that he might see the gay company, 
and be a spectator of their mirth. The Lord sent the same 
disease to his eyes and destroyed his sight, so that he was 
obliged to be confined in a dark room for several years, 
where every beam of light was like a lance piercing his 
head. There he lingered, a poor, blind cripple till he died, 
reckless about eternity — all his chastisements having made 
no impression on his obdurate heart. 

The same point was strikingly illustrated in the history 
of two brothers in Massachusetts. Together they were 
seeking salvation. They continued for several weeks, and 
often renewed a covenant, never to give over till they had 
obtained the religion of Jesus. Suddenly, one of them neg- 
lected meetings, and shunned the company of his brother. 
Soon after he received an invitation to a ball, and determined 
to accept it. His brother with tears endeavored to prevail 



12 "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

on him to change his purpose and attend a prayer-meeting, 
which was to be held on the same evening. He still ad- 
hered to his determination to attend the ball, but expressed 
a decided resolution to make a business of seeking salvation 
as soon as it was over. The time came, and the brothers 
went ; one to the prayer-meeting — the other to the ball. 
Soon after the meeting commenced, the one who was pres- 
ent was brought to rejoice in the hope of pardoned sin. 
About the same time his brother was standing at the head 
of the ballroom, prepared to lead down the dance with the 
hand of a young lady ; and, while the musician was tuning 
his viol, without a moment's warning, he sallied back and 
fell dead on the floor! " The door was shut" to both — the 
one taken, and the other left. 

Even the blooming and delicate young lady is not ex- 
empt from this peril. Emily was a member of a Bi- 
ble class in Philadelphia. Many of the class were awak- 
ened and hopefully converted while she was quite young. 
Her own heart was deeply impressed, and she was some- 
times almost persuaded to be a Christian. For many weeks 
she continued serious ; but, at length, she began to be re- 
miss and absent herself from the class, and after much en- 
treaty to be more attentive, she left the class entirely. She 
went into the company of giddy associates, became fond of 
dress and amusements, and hardened her heart against every 
serious consideration. 

When about seventeen years of age, she was seized with 
a rapid consumption. She awoke to a consciousness of her 
condition, and found herself unprepared to die. The pastor 
called and found her pale and emaciated, in the last stages 
of consumption, which had made dreadful ravages upon her 
constitution. She was greatly affected at his visit, and ex- 
claimed, " O, father S , have you found me at last ! I 

have often avoided seeing you, but I can fly no more. 



"THE DOOR WAS SHUT." lo 

'Here you find me dying. I have no expectation of recov- 
ery, and I have no hope. I have lived without God and 
without hope, and now I must die the same. O, sir, what 
a dreadful condition I am in ! Five years ago, I had pardon 

and salvation offered me. Five years ago, when Ann • 

and Eliza H gave their hearts to God, the Spirit strove 

with me powerfully. I was almost persuaded to be a 
Christian ; and O, what a blessed thing it would have been ! 
But I left the class, went into wild company, and followed 
the fashions of the world. Thus I grieved away the Holy 
Spirit. But my heart has never been at rest : I have had 
no happiness in sin ; and now what I feared has come upon 
me. My heart is so hard I cannot repent, and, (bursting 
into tears,) like Esau, I have sold my birthright. I am a 
reprobate. I must lie down in everlasting sorrow. I can- 
not pray ; and if I could, I should not be heard." 

When it was proposed to read the Bible, she said, " It 
will do no good." " Shall we pray with you ?" " It will 
do no good." When conversed with, she still replied, '^ It 
ivill do no good." The next day about noon she failed so 
fast, that her hands and feet began to grow cold, and when 
she felt the chill of death, she began to cry aloud, " O, I 
can't die ; I am not fit to die ; you must not let me die. 
If I die, I am lost for ever. O, send for the doctor; can't he 
save my life? O, must I die in my guilt!" Her cries 
were heard through the neighborhood. Her little brother 
burst into tears, and said, " O, Emily, why don't you pra}- 
to God 1 why don't you pray for mercy ?" " O, there is no 
mercy for me: I have abused mercy. When God offered 
me mercy, I rejected it. Now there is no mercy for me. I 
have * shut the door ' of mercy against myself!" Thus she 
continued her cries, growing weaker and weaker, till her 
voice was hushed in death. 

The diary of every minister of much experience would 

VOL. XIT. 20 



14 



'THE DOOR WAS SHUT. 



present similar cases ; and when the great book of God sliall 
be opened, and the history of all be exhibited, what affect- 
ing scenes will be presented to view ! 

On the other hand, how glorious the result of a different 
decision. Geo. L was a young man of great intel- 
lectual power and promise. While a senior in college, he 
staid at home one Sabbath day to devour a novel. But the 
Spirit of God met him, and produced such overwhelming 
conviction, that he was almost driven to a phrenzy of despair. 
When the tumult of his feelings had subsided, his reflections 
were still keen and painful. He relinquished his studies, 
and returned to his friends. Fie prayed and wept night and 
day in secret, afraid to disclose his feelings to any one. He 
suffered his minister to pass him without daring to speak. 
At length, by a mighty struggle, he called a pious sister 
aside, burst into a flood of tears, and disclosed his convic- 
tions. She threw her arms around his neck and wept for 
joy at such intelligence. Still, there was a deadly struggle 
between the convictions of conscience and his love of the 
world. 

As if to let temptation exert its utmost power over him, 
he stole out by night, under all the pressure of his 'convic- 
tions, and took his way to a ballroom, where an assemblage 
of his well-known companions were engaged in the dance. 
He entered the hall, brilliant with lights and glittering with 
the attractions of beauty and fashion. He was welcomed 
with the smiles of the young and beautiful. " Can I give 
this up ?" he asked himself: it was a moment big with 
eternal consequences. The scales were equiponderant. 
One decisive act was to settle his immortal destiny. " I will 
give vp the world — I will decide for God,^' he thought within 
himself, and, turning round, rushed out of the room, never 
more to join the fascinating dance. 

He sought his chamber, while deep waters still broke 



"THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 15 

'over him. There he found a letter from his pastor, and as 
he read it, his heart melted, he dropped on his knees and 
poured out his soul unto God. A flash of glory from the 
cross burst upon him, and Christ appeared a precious, jjrc- 
cious Saviour. " The door was shut." Having been lono- 
in the ministry, he is permitted to reckon more than a thou- 
sand hopeful conversions, as the fruit of his labors. 

Thus unnumbered multitudes pass the crisis of the soul, 
when called by the Spirit of God to weigh deliberately their 
ohosen objects of sinful pursuit with the claims of God to 
their supreme love and obedience. 

But others approach still nearer the door of mercy, 
and never enter. They feel that they would gladly give up 
all for Christ ; earth has lost its charms ; its transient pleas- 
ures have become tasteless ; they sigh and mourn in secret 
places, but find no rest. The difficulty is, they have met 
a cross, which, in some form, lies directly across their path, 
and they are not quite willing to take it up. It may be 
some positive religious duty, humbling to the pride of the 
natural heart. Perhaps the man is the head of a family, 
and has never acknowledged God, or worshipped him with 
his household. 

A farmer in M had lived to be the father of three 

children, while buried in the cares and toils of the farm. 
He seemed to care more for his oxen than his soul, and 
think more of his calves and lambs than of the spiritual 
welfare of his children. When his eldest daughter was 
about six years of age, his attention was called to the inter- 
ests of his soul ; and, as he was at work in the door-yard 
one morning, that little daughter came to him, and with the 
artless simplicity of childhood said, " Pa, why don't you 
pray with us ?" As he made no reply, she continued, " We 
never heard you pray, pa — wont you pray with us ?" 



j^^ "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

That simple appeal sunk into his heart. He went to his 
field, and/ as he followed the plough, the question seemed to 
ring in his ears, " Why don't you pray with us ?" It 
awoke unutterable reflections. He looked over the whole 
period that he had been a husband, and saw that he had 
done nothing for the spiritual welfare of his family. He re- 
membered that he had taken far greater pains to sow good 
seed in his field, than in the hearts of his children. His 
tears fell in the furrow. When the toils of the day were 
ended, and he sat by the evening fireside, with the little 
group around him, that awful question came rushing upon 
him again, " Pa, why don't you pray with us ?" A tempest 
of conflicting emotions raged within him. " I ought," he 
said to himself; " but can I ? they know how worldly I have 

been — how wicked : my sins " It was the crisis of his 

soul. Almost weighed down to the earth, he took his Bible, 
read a portion of Scripture, and prostrated himself before 
the Lord. Having taken up the heaviest cross that lay in 
his way, it was easy to surrender all and enter upon the 
discharge of every Christian duty. He rose with a calm 
submission to the will of God, and determination to follow 
Christ. He has long been an active member of the church. 

But others have not the responsibility of families, and to 
them the cross comes in another form. Perhaps it is in 
disclosing their feelings upon the subject. They wish to be- 
come Christians, but they would do it secretly — not even 
their dearest friends must know it, till they are fully estab- 
lished in Christian hope and joy. 

The writer will never forget the emotion produced at a 

religious meeting, during a revival in N , by the following 

narrative, related by Rev. Joseph Whiting, now gone to his 
gracious reward. Said he, "During a revival of religion 
in Yale College, several years ago, two young men were 
awakened at the same time. One of them had been re- 



THE DOOR WAS t^HUT. 



1.7 



'markably correct in his general deportment, and was amia- 
ble in his disposition : the other was a wald, frolicsome, 
sportive youth. As they walked one evening, they agreed 
to call upon the professor of theology and make known to 
him their anxiety, and seek advice. They came to the 
gate, when the amiable young man leaned over the fence 
and said, ' I believe I wont go in ; 1 don't know as it will 
do me any good.' His companion replied, ' You can do 
as you please ; but, for myself, I feel that I need all tiie 
counsel that men of experience can give : I am resolved to 
go in.' Here they parted. The former passed on. He 
smothered the flame in his own breast, and shrunk from the 
cross and fi'om Christian counsel. He was soon found to 
be declining, not only in religious feeling, but in correctness 
of moral deportment ; and before the time to graduate ar- 
rived, he had wandered so far as to be expelled from college 
for immorality : he sunk rapidly in vice, went to the West 
Indies, and there died, not long after, a miserable sot. The 
other went in, opened his heart, and received direction in the 
way of life. He soon found peace in believing, entered the 
ministry, and now stands before you, a redeemed sinner, 
saved by grace." 

Thus unnumbered multitudes pass the crisis when 
standing at the very threshold of heaven. Our limits would 
not allow an illustration of every form in which this cross 
is presented : it may be the confession of an injury to the 
person, character, or property of another ; it may be for- 
giveness of an enemy ; it may be to make restitution for 
some fraudulent transaction, or renounce a favorite system 
of belief; but whatever it is, heaven is only to be entered 
by taking it up, and the soul stands and trembles in agony, 
till the awful decision is made, and " the door is shut." So 
terrible is the conflict, that often strong men, educated, 
able, honorable men, having great pride of character to be 

VOL. XII. 20* 



TO "THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

slain, are deprived of physical strength and prostrated on 
the earth. 

With many, the scale is turned by the injiuence of 
friends. Christ has said, " He that cometh to me,- and hat- 
eth not (that is, comparatively) father and mother, and wife 
and children, he canno+ be my disciple;" but the test is a 
severe one, and multitudes make shipwreck of their souls 
upon it. 

Mr. and Mrs. , very respectable people in New 

York, were awakened to feel the terrors of the world to 
come, but could not be prevailed upon then to decide for 

Christ, for fear of offending Mrs. 's parents, who were 

Universalists. They expected soon to remove to Ohio, and 
intended then to become religious. Soon after their removal 
they were surrounded by a powerful revival. Their im- 
penitent friends and neighbors were converted, and added 
their entreaties to those of the church and pastor, mingled 

with prayers and tears, that Mr. and Mrs. would join 

them. They replied that they were left of the Spirit of God, 
to a hard heart and a reprobate mind. They continued in- 
different to all around them, manifesting the utmost reck- 
lessness in regard to the realities of eternity. Shortly after, 

Mrs. was brought to a dying bed. " 1 called to see 

her," says the pastor, " and found her more hardened than 
before, and in that awful state she was hurried unexpectedly 

into the presence of her Judge. Mr. is still living, 

and to all human appearance, a vessel of wrath fitted to 
destruction." 

How different the result with the daughter of an English 
nobleman. When her attention was directed to the salva- 
tion of the soul, she forsook every worldly pleasure and gave 
herself up to serious consideration and retirement. Her 
father, a doting parent, but a Christless worldling, was filled 
with grief and mortification that his daughter should relin- 



" THE DOOll WAS SHUT, 



10 



'quish all her prospects of worldly preferment and become a 
gloomy Christian. He resorted to every device to allure 
her back to the gayeties of life, but in vain. At length, he 
invited a few select young ladies to his house, whh the in- 
tention of beguiling her into a performance upon the piano, 
in which she was very distinguished, with the hope that 
some animating waltz or hornpipe might reclaim her to the 
world. Her young associates all understood the plan, and 
united in the effort. The evening was passing in pleasant 
conversation when music was proposed ; one and another 
of the young ladies were called upon, and gratified the com- 
pany with their enchanting strains. At length the daughter 
was called for : all was expectation ; to refuse would be a 
violation of good manners ; to comply, they thought the ac- 
complishment of their wishes. She took her seat at the 
instrument, and ran up and down the keys as none but she 
could do. The noble lord looked certain of success ; when, 
mellowing down the thrilling tones of her voluntary into a 
rich and melodious accompaniment, she sung wdth a clear, 
seraphic voice, the hymn of which the following is a part : 

"No room for mirlJi or trifling here. 
For worldly hope or worldly fear, 

If life so soon is gone : 
If now the Judge is at the door, 
And all mankind must stand before 

Th' inexorable tJirone. 

No matter which my thoughts employ, 
A moment's misery or joy ; 

But O, when both shall end. 
Where shall I find my destined place "? 
■ Shall I my everlasting days 
With fiends, or angels spend ? 



20 - THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 

Nothing is worth a thought beneath, 
But how I may escape the death 

That never, never dies : 
HoAv make my own election sure, 
And when I fail on earth, secure 

A mansion in the skies." 

It was a victory, but not such as the nobleman expected ; 
for, as she turned from the piano, at the close of the song, he 
was bathed in tears, and from that time became a zealous 
advocate of the cause which he had so heartily despised. 
She was not only established herself upon the rock, but per- 
mitted to draw her beloved parent with her. 

In other cases this crisis is brought about by special 
providences. A college classmate of the writer, the son of 

a wealthy gentleman in P , was a miserable devotee of 

pleasure. The bowl, the dance, the jovial club, were his 
chief delight. He resisted the efforts of Christian friends for 
his salvation, and few wished to make themselves the butt 
of ridicule by attempting to talk with him about his soul. 
All the hallowed influences of a little season of refreshing 
in college, made no sensible impression upon him. Even 
the prayers and tears of a pious mother seemed to be lost. 

At length C 's seat at the college exercises was empty ; 

and it was understood that he was summoned away to stand 
by the bedside of that mother, apparently drawing nigh to 
death. Several weeks elapsed before his return ; and when 
he arrived, the badge of mourning evinced that a sore 
earthly bereavement had befallen him. Sadness sat upon 
the brow that had been a stranger to care and grief. " Is 
it the effect of his affliction, or is it a discovery of himself ?" 
was the anxious inquiry of all who felt for his salvation. 
Nor did that inquiry long remain unanswered. " Where is 
your prayer-meeting to-night ?" inquired he of an humble 
follower of Christ, that before he would have disdained to 



THE DOOR WAS SHU'J 



21 



'greet with respect. He was pointed to the room. When 
the hour arrived he was there ; and never shall I forget the 

interest of that hour, when the proud Edward C bowed 

the knee with us in that upper chamber. There he told us 
that the dying counsel and prayers of his mother, together 
with her joyful and triumphant death, had wrought, through 
grace, that change in him which all other means had failed 
to do. He is now a devoted minister of the Gospel. 

But how hopeless the condition of those who at such a 
moment hesitate, and turn their backs upon the open door 
of heaven. Even the heathen have a proverb, that " Whom 
affliction will not soften, the gods abandon as desperate." 
Thousands look back to such a period, as shedding the last 
ray of light upon their darkened way. When stripped of 
worldly wealth, laid upon a bed of anguish, or weeping over 
the cold remains of some cherished child, companion, or 
friend, they felt the transitoriness of all earthly joys, and 
wore almost persuaded to be Christians. 

But once more : untold multitudes pass this fearful cri- 
sis in seasons of special attention to the subject of religion in 
the community where they live. The thousands who at 
such times are sealed to the day of redemption, ma}^ be 
known by their public avowal of Christ; but the thousands 
who seal their everlasting ruin, will never be known till the 
great book of God is opened. What is the general aspect 
of such a season 1 When the Spirit is poured out upon a 
people, the house of God is crowded. Breathless stillness 
pervades the assembly. Truth penetrates more or less 
deeply the mass of the congregation. Many are awakened, 
and perhaps many converted ; but what becomes of the 
remainder ? They sink back into indifference, and few 
inquire, " Will it be possible to renew them again unto re- 
pentance?" Before another season of refreshing comes, 
many have passed away ; and when it comes, they who 



22 



'THE DOOR WAS SHUT. 



felt most deeply before, are not the persons to feel most 
deeply again. Ministers of the largest experience upon the 
subject, give it as the result of their observation, that persons 
hardly ever are awakened after passing through two or three 
seasons of the outpouring of the Spirit. At such a time, all 
the instrumentalities provided b}'- Infinite Benevolence to 
affect the heart, are brought to bear upon it. The Gospel 
is preached with earnestness, power, and frequency ; Chris- 
tians pray much and with strong faith ; private conversa- 
tions are frequent, pointed, and faithful ; friends and asso- 
ciates are converted, and add their solicitations with all the 
ardor of their first love. It becomes the universal theme of 
conversation ; the tide of worldliness is arrested ; the Spirit 
breathes upon the soul : and if all this proves insufficient, 
and the stubborn heart resists, is it wonderful that the Mas- 
ter of the house should rise up and " shut to the door?" 

Having now traced some of those forms in which this 
crisis is met, let us pause and contemplate the scene before 
us. 

How critical the position of a serious, reflecting sinner ! 
He stands upon the summit of a hill, pondering which side 
he will descend. It is said that the waters of the Missouri 
and Columbia rivers originate within a few yards of each 
other, upon the top of the Rocky mountains. As the rain 
descends upon that lofty point, how slight a breath of air 
from east or west will waft the drops to one side or the 
other; but when they have commenced their downward 
course upon the mountain side, how hard to arrest their 
progress. They mingle with other streams, dashing and 
foaming over precipices, and through dark ravines, till they 
are merged in the deep current of a mighty river, rolling 
with resistless power towards the ocean. Those upon the 
west side are borne out to be rocked upon the ever-heaving 



"THE DOOR WAS SHUT." 23 

*bosom of the broad and calm Pacific. Those upon the east, 
are hurled into the raging billows of the stormy Atlantic, to 
be made the sport of a thousand tempests. At their com- 
mencement, how near and how much alike ; but in their 
end how widely separated ! 

Impenitent friend, in whose bosom a faithful monitor is 
now heard, saying, " Listen to the voice of wisdom ; enter, 
while you may, the gate of life," it may be that you now 
stand upon the top of that mountain. On the one side of 
you, far out of sight, lies the ocean of God's love, with which 
the river of life is connected — an ocean shoreless, cloudless, 
pacific ; on the other side, the foaming billows of his wrath, 
equally shoreless, sunless, tempestuous ; and a muddy stream 
rushes from your feet into that bottomless abyss. A breath 
may convey 3/ou now to one of these streams or the other. 
A heedless word, a look, a laugh, a sneer, an amusement, 
a trifling book, a business call, may waft you to the decliv- 
ity towards that boisterous ocean. A tear, a sigh, a kind 
word, a pressure of the hand of Christian sympathy, a verse 
of the Bible, a page of pious reading, under the blessing of 
the Spirit, may bear you to the other side. O, beware, for 
your soul's sake beware, to what influences you yielS at 
this moment. Decide for God and heaven while you may. 
Embark upon that river of life, and drink of its soul-refresh- 
ino; waters. Linijer not on that fearful summit, where one 
Step may plunge you into that tide whose dark waters will 
bear you to a hopeless, returnless distance from God, from 
peace, from heaven ! 

And how responsible the position of those associated with 
a sinner at these crises of his being. The weight of a finger 
may push him over the brink of endless woe. A word, an 
act, a look of Christian solicitude, may win him to glory and 
to God. At such a moment how cautiously should the 
Christian guard his life, his tongue, his heart, that no move- 



24 "THE UOOR WAS S£IU1. 

ment of his may weaken the claims of God upon the sin- 
ner's .conscience. How agonizing to the Christian will be 
the reflection, " My son, my daughter, came to the open door 
of heaven, and were just ready to enter in ; but my levity, 
or worldliness, or silence, discouraged them. They have 
passed by, and that door is shut for ever !" " My impeni- 
tent husband, or friend, was almost persuaded ; he seemed 
dejected and reserved, and I attempted to cheer him, but not 
with pious counsel and tears. He has passed the crisis, and 
is shut out of the kingdom of God !" 

May the Holy Spirit awaken you, dear reader, to know 
the time of your merciful visitation, and attend to the things 
that belong to your peace before they shall be hid for ever 
from your eyes ! 



rUULigHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIKTV. 



No. 501. 

THE 



INFIDEL'S CONFESSION 

A NARRATIVE, 

FROM THE CONNECTICUT EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE. 



At a meeting for prayer and religious conference, the 
conversation turned on some of the great doctrines of the 
Gospel, when a man present, who had long been known as 
an opposer of religion, made the inquiry, whether a person 
who is truly seeking after God, has a fear that any purpose 
of God will prevent his salvation. The question being an- 
swered in the negative, with explanations, he replied, to the 
surprise of all, " I am satisfied." 

On the next Sabbath, this man made to the congregation 
the following public declaration in writing. 

" It having pleased the kind Sovereign of the universe to 
open my eyes, in some measure, to see the depravity and 
poison of my own heart ; to see my desperate situation while 
opposed to God, and to the way of salvation by a kind Sav- 
iour ; to see my total inability to rectify my own heart, or 
recover myself from the fatal disease of sin and death ;* to 
see, if I am ever relieved from the plague of a proud and 
vitiated heart, and made to rejoice in the salvation of Christ, 
it must be wholly owing to the forfeited mercy and unmerited 
grace of a compassionate Redeemer : with these things fast- 
ened on my mind, and to abide, I hope, as long as I live, I 
would wish to make some communications to this religious 
assembly, which I hope may be kindly received by them. 

" For several years past my mind and afiections have 
been much alienated from the new and living way of salva- 
tion by Jesus Christ. I have fallen into the most uncomfort- 
able doubts of his divinity ; have doubted the authenticity 
of the blessed word ; have embraced irreligious and hateful 
errors ; have turned my back on the blessed Redeemer, wdiile 
his friendly hand has reached out a pardon to me, and urged 
me to take it, even while his head was filled with the dew, 

VOL. XIT. 21 



2 THE INFIDEL'S CONFESSION. 

and his locks with the drops of the night. I have run away 
from the blessed God, while his tender mercies were all 
around me, and with a sweet voice saying unto me, Turn 
ye, turn ye ; why will ye die ? I have lived in dreadful se- 
curity, and stopped my ears against the most melting invita- 
tions of the Saviour of the world. I have spent much time 
in reading books which were calculated to shake my belief 
in that holy word, which, had I sincerely believed, would 
have given me great comfort in God, and served in a great 
measure to smooth the rugged path of life. I have been 
guilty of many errors in sentiment, and in practice. I have 
shghted the blessed religion of Jesus Christ, the ministers of 
the Gospel, and professors of religion. I have spoken lightly 
of the religious attention in this place, and have neglected 
to attend religious conferences, which, by God's Holy Spirit, 
are undoubtedly instrumental of true conviction. I have 
been given to many open immoralities, and have not been 
circumspect in my behavior, to set a good example before 
those who took knowledge of me. 

" And now, in every instance wherein I have oiTended 
my heavenly Father and mankind, I would freely acknow- 
ledge my great sin and numerous transgressions, imploring 
the forgiveness of that Almighty Being, against whom I have 
unreasonably, and without the least provocation, so often 
transgressed, and Avho only can bestow pardon and eternal 
life on the chief of sinners. It appears one of the most dis- 
tinguished mercies, that when people have run into error, 
and marred themselves by sin, there is a Being to whom they 
may apply, with broken hearts, and who will blot out their 
sin with his own blood, and give them to eat of the bread of 
life. ' He that covereth his sins shall not prosper ; but whoso 
confesseth and fbrsaketh them shall have mercy.' Certainly 
there can be no exchange so happy as this : to part with a 
proud and wicked heart for a humble and sanctified one ; to 
resign our enmity for love, our selfishness for benevolence, 
our filthy self-righteousness for the spotless robes of a glori- 
ous Mediator, and our love of sin and death for holiness and 
eternal life. 

" With the foregoing considerations on my mind, I will 
implore a prayer-hearing God to lend a listening ear to my 
requests, which I pray God to help me make with sincerity. 
God, my first desire is for a rectified heart, to have sin 



THE INFIDEL'S CONFESSIOX. 3 

'slain, and a principle of true holiness and love to God im- 
planted in its stead, and a heart of constant repentance and 
unfeigned sorrow for sin. I pray God to grant me, all my 
life, a deep sense of my own unworthiness and ill desert ; I 
pray to realize it as long as I live ; to lie in the very dust, 
at the feet of the great Sovereign of the universe ; to extol, 
magnify, and glorify the riches of his moral rectitude, his 
glorious attributes, his infinite perfections ; to entreat of him, 
for Christ's sake, to give me his blessed Spirit, to lead and 
guide me into all truth, to make me steadfast in a life of 
religion, to save me from unbelief, from backsliding, and 
apostasy ; and finally, to engage me to resolve, in the strength 
of the great Redeemer, to take his yoke on me, which is 
easy, and his burden, which is light, and learn of him, who 
is meek and lowly, that I may find rest to my soul. 

" I hope that God, by his great mercy and rich grace, has 
given me to hunger for the bread of life, and thirst for living 
waters ; that he has given me to see that Christ is the way, 
the truth, and the life, and that there is salvation in no other 
way. And now, before God and this solemn assembly, and 
I hope with a broken and sincere heart, I renounce the heart- 
tormenting and heaven-provoking principles of infidelity, so 
dishonoring to God and pernicious to mankind. But before 
I close this writing, I must drop a few hints to those with 
whom I have associated in infidelity for some years past. 

" You will not view me as reflecting on you, for I sin- 
cerely pity you. I tremble for the fatal mistake you 'are 
making. Is deism a good scheme to embrace in death ? Is 
there comfort in it of a happy immortality ? Will it make a 
dying hour serene and joyful ? Can you expect to find a 
smiling God out of Christ ? Can you be satisfied that infidel 
principles are calculated to humble the proud and rebellious 
hearts of mankind, and to exalt the Most High ? Will you 
not be persuaded to abandon a scheme which excludes prayer 
and shuts out all heavenly contemplation ? Can you bring 
up your dear children, and never pray to God lor them, nor 
mention a word concerning religion and the great God, for 
fear their minds may be prepossessed in favor of a scheme, 
of which, if they had come to riper years, they would dis- 
cover the fraud, and disbelieve it for themselves ? When 
your offspring come before you with wishful countenances, 
asking fbr bread, do you never think of the bread of life ; 



4 THE INFIDEL'S CONFESSION. 

that their souls are famishing while their bodies are nour- 
ished ? 

"I will mention but one more consideration, and that a 
dreadful and awful one. You must meet your beloved chil- 
dren before God's bar, and there ansM^er how you have con- 
ducted towards them. Should they, in consequence of your 
total neglect to instruct them in religion, be doomed to a 
dreadful hell, will they not shriek out these heart-rending 
words, with horrid emphasis, ' Father, you never told me of 
this dreadful place — you never told me of a glorious escape, 
a glorious relief by Jesus Christ — and must I lie in this dis- 
mal burning lake ? unhappy, that you was ever made 
an instrument of my existence I' Now, will you come to 
the loving Saviour, and bring your whole families with you ? 
There is bread enough in our Father's house. I pray God 
that he will in great mercy be pleased to open your eyes, to 
discern wondrous things in that law which you have re- 
jected, and to see ineffable beauty in that Saviour whom you 
have disowned." 

The above communication was exhibited. Lord's day, 
April 14, 1799, to a numerous audience. Many of them 
were much affected, and most of the infidels alluded to were 
also present. The author of the communication says, that 
being at meeting on the Lord's day, hearing the names of 
ten persons called, who were propounded to join the church, 
his mind was struck with the cutting idea, that an eternal 
separation was about to take place between people of the 
same congregation, neighborhood, and family. And as there 
was room enough, he could see nothing to hinder him from 
coming to Christ too, but his own unwillingness. These 
were about the first of his impressions. His convictions 
continued, and increased for a number of weeks, luitil he 
was brought, as he confessed, to see his desperate situation, 
while opposed to God, and the way of salvation by a kind 
Saviour ; and to see that Christ was " the way, the truth, and 
the life," and cordially, as he hopes, to accept of him. 

JEREMIAH HALLOCK. 

West Simsbury, August 18, 1800. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



APPEAL IN BEHALF 

OF THE 

CHRISTIAN SABBATH. 



BY S. S. SCHMUCKER, D. D. 

Fellow-Citizens — We address you as those whom the 
Creator has invested with the power of moral agents, and to 
whom he has granted free institutions ; as those, on whom 
he has devolved the high but arduous duty of self-govern- 
ment. No despot controls our civil interests : no bigot has 
power to infringe our rights of conscience. We are as yet 
secure in the enjoyment of life, liberty, and the pursuit of 
temporal happiness, under the progressive lights of reason 
and science ; and in the prosecution of our higher, our 
innnortal interests, according to the dictates of our own 
consciences, none daring to molest us or make us afraid. 
Both these interests, however, need to be guarded agains-t 
dangerous enemies, and both are materially affected by the 
institution to which we now invite your serious attention. 
We therefore need no apology for addressing you on the 
subject of the Christian Sabbath. 

The word of God, we believe, inculcates the divine obli- 
gation to consecrate one day in seven to rest from secular toil, 
and to exercises of religious devotion. This was enacted 
at the end of the creative week, for reasons equally appli- 
cable to all nations and all generations : " Because in six 
days the Lord created the heavens and the earth, and rested 
on the seventh from all the works which he had made." 
And as he created the heavens and the earth, not for the 

VOL. XJI. 21* 



2 APPEAL Ii\ BEHALF OF 

Jews only, but for all nations, so the example of his resting 
and saiictifying the seventh day, must also have been de- 
signed for all. Here we find the original and formal institu- 
tion of the Sabbath. In Exod. 20: 8-11, it is evidently 
spoken of as already existing and known. The language, 
" Remember the Sabbath day," etc., implies a previous 
acquaintance with it. The same is true of Exod. 16. More- 
over, the declaration of the Saviour, that the Sabbath was 
made for man, forbids the idea of its restriction to the Israel- 
ites alone, and implies that it was intended for all mankind, 
and therefore appropriately instituted at that early day. 
That the Sabbath was appointed at the time just stated, is 
moreover sustained by the fact, that the division of time into 
weeks was found among the most ancient nations, as far 
back as history and tradition extend. It was found among 
the Egyptians, Assyrians, Phoenicians, Ancient Chinese, 
Indians, Arabians, and others. No other rational account 
of the general prevalence of the hebdomadal division of time 
in the earliest ages of antiquity can be given, than that it 
was spread by tradition from the family of Noah, who had 
derived it from our first parents. 

We claim not that the identical hours must be observed 
over the whole earth ; for, unless the night were employed, 
this would be physically impossible. Had the popular the- 
ory of antiquity proved true, that the earth is an extended 
plain, the same twelve hours might have been observed for 
the active duties of the Sabbath by all men. But how can 
the inhabitants of a revolving sphere, illuminated from one 
fixed point, all have their Sabbath day, or any other day, at 
the same time ? We need scarcely remind any of you, 
that if colonies had simultaneously emigrated from Eden, 
and proceeded half round the globe, they would have been 
involved in midnight, whilst the meridian sun illumined 
their starting point : and if they continued their progress 
jUl they completed the circuit, each having faithfully kept 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. 3 

the seventh day as Sabbath, they would find themselves 
observing different days. But though the simultaneousness 
of sabbatic observance will be conceded as unnecessary, it 
is evident, that whilst these divergant colonies might both 
regularly observe the seventh day, counting from the time 
they started, yet when they met, as they would be observ- 
ing different days, they must either have two conflicting 
Sabbaths, or one of them must change its day and adopt 
that of the other. Since the Creator has made it physically 
impossible to observe the same hours, or even, in some cases, 
the same day ; does he not thus evidently teach us, that it 
was not unalterably the seventh day of the week, but the 
religious observance of the seventh portion of time w^hich 
essentially constitutes his Sabbath ; while, in the Old 
Testament dispensation, the seventh day was confessedly 
appointed? During the Mosaic dispensation, the same pro, 
portion of time was reiterated, with various ceremonial 
injunctions, and the Sabbath, like the rainbow of old, em- 
ployed as a type or sign to the Israelites, without altering 
its primitive relation to other nations. This ceremonial 
character and its appendages, which were peculiar to the 
Mosaic economy, and " were shadows of things to come, of 
which Christ is the body," Paul tells the Colossians (2 : 16) 
were abolished in the New Testament, with the other types 
and shadows of the old ; but the primitive design and obli- 
gation remained to sanctify the seventh portion of time. 
The inspired apostles, doubtless for wise reasons, selected 
the day of our Lord's resurrection, the first day of the 
week, for their stated seventh-day religious services, perhaps 
to connect the Saviour's triumph over death and the powers 
of hell, with the perpetual public devotions of Christians, 
and possibly to prevent the ceremonial aspects of the Jewish 
Sabbath from becoming connected with that of Christians, 
to which there would have been a constant tendency, if the 
same day had been retained. 



4 . APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

That the inspired apostles, and primitive Christians under 
their guidance, selected the first day for their regular weekly 
public exercises, we tliink, needs no labored argument. 
Luke the evangelist, not only tells us, that the disciples 
came together on the first day to break bread, that is, to 
celebrate the communion, but he says, on the first day of 
the week, when they came together for this purpose, Paul 
preached to them ; implying that it was their custom so to 
convene. Paul also directs the Christians of Corinth and 
Galatia to hold their charitable collections on the first, or, 
as St. John calls it, " the Lord's day," for the obvious reason, 
that then they were assembled. 1 Cor. 16 : 1, 2. Indeed, 
the resurrection of Christ was so decidedly the culmi- 
nating and crowning scene in the work of redemption, it 
was so obviously the day of triumph for Christ, for Chris- 
tianity, and for Christians, that the disciples from the begin- 
ning very naturally regarded it as the day most closely con- 
nected with their religion and worship, and observed it 
as such. And the divine Saviour himself seems to have 
evinced his approbation of the practice. We have no 
account of his having met with them after his resurrection 
on the Jewish Sabbath ; but every instance of his appear- 
ance to them was on the first day of the week, on the Lord's 
day. It was on this day that he favored their assembly 
with his presence, and pronounced his benediction, " Peace 
be with you." It was on this day that he poured out his 
Spirit upon them, and bestowed the gift of tongues ; and it 
was on this day, also, that he revealed himself and the pro- 
phetic history of his church to St. John at Patmos. Luke 
24 : 36. Levit. 23: 15, 16. Acts 2:1. 

That this day was religiously observed by Christians, in 
regular succession during the first three centuries, is evident 
from the testimony of Ignatius, Justin Martyr, Tertullian, 
Clement of Alexandria, and Cyprian. Eusebius, of the 
fourth century, tells us that Christians were so well known 



THE CHRISTIAN SAUBATH. 5 

by the fact of their observing the Lord's day, that the hea- 
then, when wishing to know whether any person was a disci- 
ple of Christ, decided by his answer to the inquiry. Dost 
thou observe the Lord^s day ? In the fourth century, Con- 
stantine, the first Christian emperor, enacted civil laws, re- 
quiring abstinence from secular labor on the Lord's day ; and 
from that time to the present, similar prohibitions, more or 
less stringent, are embodied in the code of every Christian 
nation. 

Nor do these United States form an exception. It is 
true, our national constitution provided that Congress shall 
not give the preference of legal establishment to any form 
of religion, by which is meant form of Christianity ; for 
Christianity was at that time legally acknowledged in all 
the colonies, and in several of them, one or other Christian 
denomination was established by law in preference to all 
others. But though they made no formal enactment either 
of Christianity or the Christian Sabbath, by implication they 
acknowledged both. The constitution did not revoke the 
well-known existing acknowledgment of Christianity in the 
State governments, and itself provides that Sunday shall not 
be counted in the ten days, within which bills are ordinarily 
to be returned by the President. And the same men who 
framed that instrument, also decreed that all the public offices 
of the Legislative, Judicial, and Executive departments of 
government shall be closed on that day. The government 
also directs all chaplains in the navy to perform service 
twice on the Lord's day, and even prescribes the infliction 
of penalties, if any members of the crew are guilty of dis- 
orderly conduct on such occasions. In many States of our 
Union, where the day of the Lord is grossly desecrated, the 
legal provision is satisfactory, if faithfully executed. It is 
only the negative observation of the Sabbath, abstinence 
from secular labor, that civil government has a right to en- 
force : far be the day, when our rulers shall venture the 



5 APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

dictation of any particular religious exercises ; and should 
the attempt ever be made, we trust there will be patriotism 
enough in the land to defeat it. While yet a British colony, 
as early as 1705, the service of civil process was prohibited 
by law, in Pennsylvania ; and about ten years after our inde- 
pendence was achieved, in 1794, a general prohibition of all 
worldly employment on the Lord's day was enacted. Sim- 
ilar laws were passed by other State Legislatures at an 
early day. It remains for you, fellow-citizens, to give effi- 
cacy to these laws as well by your faithful example, as by 
the infliction of their penalties on transgressors. 

And can it be questioned, at this late day, whether this 
recognition of the Christian Sabbath was the dictate of wis- 
dom in our fathers ? Can it have been the result of weak- 
headed superstition ; or rather, was it not the product of 
matured civil wisdom, and enlightened political philosophy ? 
Do we not recognize in it the action of minds capable of 
rising above the clouds of prejudice and sense, and enjoying 
a pure and just perception of the highest interests of human- 
ity, not only present, but prospective, and eternal ? 

To decide this question, let us inquire what are the in- 
fluences of the Sabbath on all the cardinal interests of ma.n, 
in his physical, intellectual, and moral nature. What are 
called our physical wants and comforts, constitute by far the 
larger portion of the necessities and happiness of the mass 
of the community. Whether the observance of the Sab- 
bath tends to relieve the one and secure the other, therefore, 
presents itself as a most pertinent inquiry to every friencl 
of his country and humanity. 

This is not simply a theological or political question, but 
a vital topic of personal and individual economy. Physicians 
of cfreat eminence and number have attested that the neces- 

o 

sity of a Sabbath is a law of our physical nature, written by 
the finger of God on our mental and bodily constitution. 
The Sabbath is emphatically the poor man's boon : it relieves 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. 7 

■the laborer from worldly toil, from corroding cares of busi- 
ness, and from incessant physical efforts; thus promoting 
health of body, and vigor of mind. Experience has clearly 
proved the universal necessity of something like a hebdom- 
adal recess for permanent health and vigor ; has evinced 
the claims of the seventh day of rest to be founded in nature 
as well as revelation. The bow, never unstrung, loses its 
elasticity. Labor unremitted consumes the vital powers of 
body and mind. If, therefore, man has no right to commit 
suicide, he is not authorized to labor on the Sabbath, for by 
so doing he must abridge his life. God, who knows what is 
in man, compels us to daily intermissions of labor, by the 
alternation of day and night. But this being insufficient, he 
has also appointed one day of rest in seven, by which the 
recuperative powers of the system are preserved, and life 
prolonged. 

Dr. Harrison says, " Incessant toil wears out the energies 
of man's limited strength." All experience is expressive of 
this universal proposition, that a longer life and a greater 
degree of health are the sure results of a careful regard to 
the commandment, ^' Reme7nher the Sahhatli-day to keep it 
holy.''' Dr. Mussey, of Ohio Medical College, a close ajid 
enlightened observer of nature, affirms, " There cannot be 
a reasonable doubt, that under the due observance of the 
Sabbath, life would, on the average, be prolonged more than 
one-seventh of its whole period." Dr. Farre, in his testi- 
mony before the Committee of the British House of Com- 
mons, maintains these two positions: 1. "That men who 
labor but six days in a week, will be more healthy and live 
longer, tlian those who labor seven ; and 2. That they will 
do more work, and do it in a better manner." And the 
distinguished Dr. Warren, of Boston, confessedly standing 
in the foremost ranks of his profession, says, " I concur en- 
tirely in the opinion expressed by Dr. Farre, whom I know 
to be a physician of the highest respectability." Scores 



Q APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

of other physicians of the first rank in our country and in 
England, have testified to the same positions. 

Thus it is evident, that the religion of the Sabbath 
secures the temporal as well as the spiritual interests of 
man, by reinvigorating his physical energies. But it also 
advances the same object by increased moral impulse. 
With motives drawn from eternity, it enforces those habits 
of integrity, industry, frugality, and forethought, in "pro- 
viding for them that are of our own household," which 
naturally secure the comfort of families and the prosperity 
of nations. Does the amount of our profits depend on the 
labor performed by us and those in our employment ? It is 
the observance of the Sabbath which enables us to accom- 
plish more than its neglect. Does the success of our 
business depend on the honesty and trustworthiness of those 
to whom portions of it must be confided ? What can better 
promote this object than the ordinances of the Sabbath, by 
which they and all their doings through the week are 
statedly brought under the all-seeing eye of Jehovah, and 
fidelity is impressed on them by the anticipated retributions 
of eternity ? How many thousands of dollars are lost by 
employers, in little petty sums, purloined by laborers and 
clerks, who would never allow themselves such liberties, if 
their consciences were quickened by the stated ministrations 
of the Sabbath ! And how many thousands of cases of gross 
dishonesty, of larceny, and even robbery, may be traced to 
the neglect of the restraining influence of the Sabbath ! 
This sacred institution has therefore a just and urgent claim 
on all the laboring and business classes, and ought to receive 
their hearty and efiicient support. 

But man is an intellectual as well as a physical being; 
he partakes of the nature of angels as well as of the lower 
animals, and it becomes us as philanthropists and as Chris- 
tians to inquire, how this second department of our interests 
is afi^ected hv the Sabbath. So intimate is the connection 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. g 

- between soul and body, so various and constant the recipro- 
cal influence of the one upon the other, as to have led Dr. 
Rush to maintain, that for all the purposes of medical prac- 
tice, they may be treated as one. Without admitting tlie 
philosophical absurdity, which he does not affirm, that 
matter and mind, that flesh and thoughts are the same, the 
intimacy of their connection, the strength of their sympa- 
thies, and the constancy of their reciprocal influence, are 
matters of daily observation. Does not that which fatigues 
the body, also disqualify the mind for action ? And is not 
occasional stated rest as much a matter of constitutional 
necessity, as deeply engraven as a law of nature and of 
God on the structure of the mind as of the body ? All the 
testimony we have adduced for the necessity and advantage 
of bodily rest, is equally applicable to the mind. Indeed, 
if there is any difference, the necessity for occasional mental 
relaxation is greater. The neglect of Sabbath rest, not only 
impairs the efficiency of those who are guilty of violence to 
this law of their nature, but has often unhinged the most 
powerful intellects, and prematurely extinguished the most 
brilliant lights of literature and science. , Among the for- 
mer we may mention, as a melancholy example, Lord Cas- 
tlereagh of England ; and of the latter, if we are rightly 
informed, a late eminent jurist of Pennsylvania, whose 
lifestrings seem to have been snapped by over-tension, un- 
relieved by Sabbath intermissions. Do not such solemn 
cases present a powerful appeal to the sons of genius, in the 
different professions ? If they neither fear God nor regard 
man, yet for their own sakes ought they not to regard this 
divine institution ? Nor are these cases rare. The ner- 
vous system especially, requires rest. " The sacred quiet- 
ness of the Sabbath," says Dr. Harrison, " takes off" from 
the brain that excessive fulness of blood, which the mental 
and bodily exercise of six days is calculated to produce." 
" And the working of the mind," says Dr. Farre, " in one 

VOL. XIT. 22 



20 APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

continued train of thought, is destructive of life in the most 
distinguished class of society, and senators themselves need 
reform in this particular. I have observed many of them 
destroyed by neglecting this economy in life." 

But the whole of man is not discussed, when his physical 
and intellectual nature has been viewed. The highest, the 
noblest, the moral powers yet remain : those which, rightly 
improved, make the good man kin to angels; those which give 
proper direction to all his energies on earth, and qualify him 
for taking his place in the ranks of the ministering spirits in 
heaven. It is these powers that the Sabbath is especially 
calculated to cultivate. These it elevates and links in sym- 
pathy to the throne of God, and by thus bringing our whole 
life into near relation with eternity and heaven, diffuses the 
fragrance of the better world over the occupations and en- 
joyments of this. The faithful consecration of the Sabbath 
gives a higher direction to the efforts of the individual ; it 
purifies and elevates the intercourse and enjoyments of the 
domestic and social circles; it is a balance-wheel to the 
nation amid the heavings and commotions of the political 
elements ; it pronxises to bind nations together in the bond of 
one united brotherhood; and it conducts the Church universal, 
as the light of the world, through the wilderness of life, to 
that eternal Sabbath in heaven, of which it is on earth the 
delightful emblem. Let us contemplate these influences a 
little more in detail. 

Must we not all concede, that man, as an individual, has 
various adverse influences to contend with ? Do not his 
passions naturally tend to earth ? Is he not in danger, in 
the pursuit of earthly enjoyments and possessions, to forget 
his eternal destiny ? Amid the fascinations of pleasure, the 
delusions and infatuation of wealth and honor and power, is 
he not in danger of regarding these as ends instead of means, 
and mistaking them for his chief good ? How necessary 
and salutary to him nmst be the influence of tlie Sabbath, 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. J^J 

which, by statedly interrupting his career, and inviting him 
to the house of God, teaches him the guilt and danger of his 
error, shows him the proper use of every earthly good, and 
points him to that hereafter where he must render an ac- 
count, not only of all the earthly advantages he possessed, 
but also of the manner in which he acquired them ! 

How many individuals, through neglect of Sabbath 
ordinances, have had the sense of moral obligation effaced 
from their minds, and, in an hour of temptation, have fallen 
into dishonesty or other crime, involving themselves and 
their family in ruin and disgrace ! In how many Sabbath- 
breaking families are there discord and envyings and jeal- 
ousy, which the ordinances of God's holy day would allay ! 
What can be better calculated to commend to husband and 
wife mutual forbearance and affection, to teach children to 
love and obey their parents, to cultivate mutual afTection for 
each other, and thus to make the family on earth, in some 
humble measure, resemble the family in heaven ? May not 
many unhappy families here see the cause of their mis- 
fortunes ? Need parents wonder at the disobedience, or 
dishonesty or dissipation of their children, if they have with- 
held from them the restraining, purifying influence, of 
Sabbath ordinances, if they have taught them by their own 
example, that the doctrines and duties inculcated by religion 
are of no importance ? 

What better corrective can be applied to the corrosions 
of envy, jealousy, and strife in social circles, than to have 
their members statedly convened in the house of God, and 
to sit under the purifying, harmonizing, elevating influence 
of the Gospel ? There the rich and the poor are brought 
together, where the distinctions of riches are forgotten. 
There all are taught humility in the presence of Jehovah, 
whilst the infinite sublimity and elevation of the Creator 
over his creatures, throws into the shade the little hair- 
breadth differences br't^\■^o^ the rronturrs ihomsolvos. There 



22 APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

rulers are taught to feel on an equality with those they gov- 
ern, to feel that they have a ruler over them, to whom they 
must render an account for their public and official, no less 
than their private actions. In short, the interests-and influ- 
ence of the Sabbath are identical with those of religion 
itself, and of the church of God. Well did the French infi- 
dels understand this connection, when, during their reign of 
terror, they abolished the Sabbath, and substituted the tenth 
day for a time of rest, as the surest method of obliterating 
Christianity itself from the minds of men. 

Far be it from us to stigmatize as infidels all who differ 
from us on the sanctifi cation of the Sabbath ; yet it cannot 
be denied, that just in as far as they promote its desecration, 
they actually undermine one of the main pillars of the Chris- 
tian church, and sacrifice the highest interests of our race. 
Is it not mainly by the exercises of the Sabbath, that sinners 
are converted from the paths of error and added to the peo- 
ple of God ? That members of the church are instructed 
in their duties and quickened in their discharge ? That 
they are taught to feel their high and holy calling to be the 
salt of the earth and the lights of the world ? In short, is 
it not by the stated ordinances of the Lord's day, that the 
Christian church publishes and extends those high and holy 
principles of moral purity, benevolence and charity, of good 
will towards men and glory to God in the highest, by which 
the family of man are to be united in one universal brother, 
hood ; by which all violence and oppression, and wars and 
rumors of wars are eventually to be banished from the earth, 
and this world of sin and misery to be brought under the 
benign and happy reign of the Prince of Peace ? Surely, 
then, the highest interests of all men are wrapped up in the 
proper consecration of the Sabbath, nor can he be regarded 
as their enlightened friend, who allows himself directly or 
indirectly to lend his aid to bring into disrepute that ordi- 
nance of heaven, " Remember the Sahbath-day to keep it holy.^' 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. 



13 



If these views be correct, fellow- citizens, how greatly 
is it to be deplored, that so many in our land yet act in vio- 
lation of them ! Of the openly vicious, who spend the day 
in rioting and drunkenness, we do not now speak. They 
can be effectually restrained only by the arm of the law. 
But how many, who are otherwise moral men and good citi- 
zens, desecrate this holy day ! How many merchants travel 
to or from the marts of business ! Hoav many farmers on 
the highways deny to themselves and their teams that rest 
which God designed for them, and which they have no right 
to withhold from the irrational animals that toil for their 
benefit ! And are there not great men who have lent their 
influence to Sabbath desecration ? Do not some dignified 

o 

judges employ the Sabbath in reaching their place of busi- 
ness, thus lending their potential example to promote that 
immorality which they are wont officially to deplore ? Yea, 
are there not some professed disciples of him who was the 
Lord of the Sabbath, who allow themselves, for otlier than 
works of necessity and mercy, to invade the sacred hours 
of that holy day ? We implore all of every class who feel 
guilty, to reflect upon the influence of their example. If it 
is allowable for you to disregard this holy day, why is i^ not 
equally so for all others ? And what would thus become 
of the Lord's day, of tile order of society, of the stability of 
our civil institutions, of the church of God, of the best inter- 
ests of our race ? The conservatory influence by which 
alone the Sabbath can be rescued from continued desecra- 
tion, cannot be expected to emanate from the unprincipled 
and irreligious. It is therefore to those otherwise virtuous, 
to the disciples of Christ, and especially to ministers of the 
Gospel, that we make our appeal. We beseech you to unite 
your influence in sustaining the laws which prohibit all sec- 
ular labor on the Sabbath, and to extend and deepen the 
popular conviction of the importance, benevolence, and sal- 
utary tendency of the proper observance of that day of rest. 
VOL. XII. " 22* 



14 APPEAL IN BEHALF OF 

Especially, also, should you exert your influence to res- 
cue the public works throughout our land from being per^- 
verted to Sabbath desecration. Is it not a melancholy fact, 
that the spirit of moral anarchy which is abroad in the world, 
has seized the grandest inventions of the age, and made the 
discoveries of science tributary to the cause of iniquity in- 
stead of holiness, of Satan instead of God ; and instead of 
erecting them into pillars to support the fair temple of our 
liberties, has converted them into battering rams to shatter 
its walls ? Yes, is it not true, that our public works are vast 
engines of Sabbath desecration ? Are not our railroads and 
canals, with few praiseworthy exceptions, so many great 
channels through which a regular stream of Sabbath dese- 
cration, week after week, flows throughout the length and 
breadth of our land ? This need not, and ought not to be 
so. The laws of many States neither require nor justify 
it ; and all friends of our country should unite in respectful 
but urgent appeals to canal commissioners and railroad 
companies for speedy reform. If further legislative action 
is deemed requisite, all true patriots and Christians should 
cordially cooperate in obtaining it. 

Amongst the most fruitful sources of crime in our coun- 
try is Sabbath desecration. Of one hundred men admitted 
to the Massachusetts state prison in one year, nine out of 
ten had been habitual violators of the Lord's day and neg- 
lecters of public worship ; and the keeper affirms that hun- 
dreds of convicts have lamented their desecration of the 
Sabbath, as the first and fatal step in their downward prog- 
ress to ruin. Self-interest, therefore, as well as patriotism, 
philanthropy, and religion, call on us to be active in remov- 
ing these prolific sources of human misery and crime and 
public expenditure. The proper observance of the Sabbath 
will do more to suppress criminal offences, and to secure the 
rights of person and property, than all the jails, penitentia- 
vies, and gibbets in the land. For the Sabbath was designed, 



THE CHRISTIAN SABBATH. 25 

not only to vindicate tlie rights of God to our adoration, love, 
and obedience, but also to promote the security and happi- 
ness of man, and the requisite repose even for irrational 
animals in our employment; which, if permitted to rest one 
day in seven, will do more work in the remaining six, will 
live longer and enjoy better health. 

Nor are we without encouragement in this enterprise. 
The God of the Sabbath has smiled on the efforts of his chil- 
dren. Great progress has been made in waking up public 
attention. Numerous conventions have been held in differ- 
ent parts of the country, and the first intellects of the na- 
tion have brought the tribute of their influence and prayers. 
Sabbath mails have been stopped on about 100,000 miles 
of road, and thus thousands of persons previously employed 
on the Lord's day have been restored to its rest and privi- 
leges. Sabbath-breaking, by travelling and other secular 
pursuits, is becoming more disreputable. Steam-boats, canal 
boats, and stages have been discontinued on some routes ; 
and there is every reason to believe, ihat if the wise and 
good and patriotic of our land persevere, and especially, if 
ministers of the Gospel generally bring the influence of the 
pulpit to bear on this subject, the day is not far distant wljen, 
by the blessing of the God of the Sabbath, the greater part 
of our nation will be at least externally a Sabbath-keeping 
people. 

But let us remember at every step of our progress, that 
abstinence from secular employment does not constitute the 
whole of Sabbath consecration, though it is all that the arm 
of civil power can or ought to enforce. Let us at the same 
lime, by the light of our example and by the kindly influ- 
ences of moral suasion, invite our fellow-citizens to the 
higher, the spiritual consecration of the day of God. Espe- 
cially, let the attractive influences of the Christian pulpit 
exert their power and carry on the blessed work, by dif- 
fusing intelligence, by inculcating correct principles, and, 



IQ APPEAL IN BEHALF OF THE CHR1STL\N SABBATH. 

through the aid of the Spirit, by cherishing that love to God 
and Iqve to man which constitute the best worship of the 
Creator. Thus combining external with internal consecra- 
tion, we shall yield acceptable obedience to the command 
of Jehovah, to remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy ; 
individual and domestic happiness will be diffused through, 
out our borders, the pillars of our government will be 
strengthened, the Church of God in all her branches 
will prosper, and our nation enjoy the blessedness of that 
people whose God is the Lord ! 



Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love, 
But there's a nobler rest above : 
To that our longing souls aspire, 
With ardent love and strong desire. 

No more fatigue, no more distress, 
Nor sin, nor death, shall reach the place ; 
No groans shall mingle with the songs 
Which warble from immortal tongues. 

No rude alarms of raging foes ; 
No cares to break the long repose ; 
No midnight shade, no clouded sun. 
But sacred, high, eternal noon. 

O long-expected day, begin ! 
Dawn on this world of woe and sm : 
Fain would Ave leave this weary road, 
To sleep in death, and rest in God. 

DonDRlDOH. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



I¥o. J03. 

TRUE COIVERSIOI. 

A DIALOGUE 
BETWEEN HOPEFUL AND CHRISTIAN. 

FROM BUNYAN's PILGRIM's PROGRESS. 



Christian. How came you to think at first of doing 
what you do now ? 

Hopeful. Do you mean, how I came at first to look 
after the good of my soul ? 

Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. 

Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those 
things which were seen and sold at our fair ; things which 
I believe now would have, had I continued in them still, 
drowned me in perdition and destruction. 

Chr. What things were they ? 

Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also 
I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, swearing, 
lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, that 
tended to destroy the soul. But I found at last, by hearing 
and considering of things that are divine, which, indeed, I 
heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful that was put to 
death for his faith and good living in Vanity Fair, that the 
end of these things is death, Rom. 6 : 21-23 ; and that for 
these things' sake the wrath of God cometh upon the chil- 
dren of disobedience. Eph. .5 : 6. 

Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of 
this conviction ? 



2 TRUE CONVERSION. 

Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil 
of sin,- nor the damnation that follows upon the commission 
of it ; but endeavored, when my mind at first began to be 
shaken with the word, to shut mine eyes against the light 
thereof. 

Chr. But what was the cause of your acting thus under 
the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you ? 

Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignoranl that this 
was the work of God upon me. I never thought that by 
awakenings for sin, God at first begins the conversion of a 
sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was 
loath to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with my 
old companions, their presence and actions were so desirable 
unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon 
me, were such troublesome and such heart- affi'ighting hours, 
that I could not bear, no, not so much as the remembrance 
of them upon my heart. 

Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your 
trouble ? 

Hope. Yes, verily, but it would come into my mind 
again ; and then I would be as bad, nay, worse, than I was 
before. 

Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind 
again ? 

Hope. Many things: as, 1. If I did but meet a good 
man in the streets ; or, 2. If I have heard any read in the 
Bible ; or, 3. If my head did begin to ache ; or, 4. If I 
were told that some of my neighbors were sick ; or, 5. If 1 
heard the bell toll for some that were dead ; or, 6. If I thought 
of dying myself; or, 7. If I heard that sudden death hap- 
pened to others. 8. But especially when I thought of my- 
self, that T must quickly come to judgment. 



TRUE CONVERSION. 3 

Chr. And could you at any time, with ease, get ofT the 
guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came upon you ? 

Hope. No, not I ; for then they got faster hold of my 
conscience ; and then, if I did but think of going back to 
sin — though my mind was turned against it — it would be 
double torment to me. 

Chr. And how did you do then ? 

Hope. I thought I must endeavor to mend my life ; or 
else, thought I, I am sure to be damned. 

Chr. And did you endeavor to mend ? 

Hope. Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, but sinful 
company too, and betook me to religious duties ; as praying, 
reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, 
etc. These things did I, with many others, too much here 
to relate. 

Chr. And did you think yourself well then ? 

Hope. Yes, for a while ; but at the last my trouble came 
tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all my 
reformations. 

Chr. How came that about, since you were now re- 
formed ? 

Hope. There were several things brought it upon me, 
especially such sayings as these : " All our righteousnesses 
are as filthy rags." Isa. 64 : 6. " By the works of the law 
shall no flesh be justified." Gal. 2 : 16. " When ye have 
done all these things, say. We are unprofitable," Luke 17 : 
10 ; with many more such like. From whence I began to 
reason with myself thus : If all my righteousnesses are as 
filthy rags, if by the deeds of the law no man can be justi- 
fied, and if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable, 
then is it but a folly to think of iieaven by the law. I farther 
thought thus : If a man runs a hundred pounds into the shop- 



4 TRUE CONVERSION. 

keeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall 
buy ; yet if his old debt stand still in the book uncrossed, 
the shopkeeper may sue him for it, and cast him into prison, 
till he shall pay the debt. 

Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself? 

Hope. Why, I thought thus with myself: I have by my 
sins run a great way into God's book, and my now reform- 
ing will not pay off that score. Therefore I would think 
still, under all my present amendments, But how shall I be 
freed from that damnation that I brought myself in danger 
of by my former transgressions ? 

Chr. a very good application ; but pray go on. 

Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me ever since 
my late amendments is, that if I look narrowly into the best 
of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with 
the best of that I do ; so that now I am forced to conclude, 
that notwithstanding my former fond conceits of myself and 
duties, 1 have committed sin enough in one day to send me 
to hell, though my former life had been faultless. 

Chr. And what did you do then ? 

Hope. Do! I could not tell what to do, until I broke 
my mind to Faithful ; for he and I were well acquainted. 
And he told me, that unless I could obtain the righteousness 
of a Man that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all 
the righteousness of the world, could save me. 

Chr. And did you think he spake true ? 

Hope. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satis- 
fied with my own amendments, I had called him fool for his 
pains ; but now, since I see my own infirmity, and the sin 
which cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced 
to be of his opinion. 

Chr. But did you think, when at first he suggested it to 



TRUE CONVERSION. 5 

-you, that there was such a man to be found, of whom it 
might justly be said that he never committed sin ? 

Hope. I must confess the words at first sounded strange- 
ly ; but after a little more talk and company with him, I 
had full conviction about it. 

Chr. And did you ask him what man this was, and 
how you must be justified by him ? 

Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, that 
dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. Heb. 10 : 12- 
21. And thus, said he, you must be justified by him, even 
by trusting to what he hath done by himself in the days of 
his flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the tree. Rom. 
4:5; Col. 1 : 14 ; 1 Pet. 1:19. I asked him further, how 
that man's righteousness could be of such efficacy, to justify 
another before God. And he told me he was " the mighty 
God," and did what he did, and died the death also, not for 
himself, but for me ; to whom his doings, and the worthiness 
of them, should be imputed, if I believed on him. 

Chr. And what did you do then ? 

Hope. I made my objections against believing, for 1 
thought he was not willing to save me. 

Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? 

Hope. He bid me go to Him and see. Then I said it 
was presumption. He said. No ; for I was invited to come. 
Matt. 11 : 28. Then he gave me a book of Jesus' inditing, 
to encourage me the more freely to come ; and he said con- 
cerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood 
firmer than heaven and earth. Matt. 24 : 35. Then I asked 
him what I must do when I came ; and he told me I must 
entreat upon my knees. Psalm 95 : 6 ; Dan. 6:10, with 
all my heart and soul, Jer. 29 : 12, 13, the Father to reveal 
him to me. Then I asked him further, how I must make 

VOL. XIT. 23 



6 TRUE CONVERSION. 

my supplications to him; and he said, Go, and thou shalt 
find him upon a mercy-seat, where he sits all the year long 
to give pardon and forgiveness to them that come. Exod. 
25 : 22 ; Lev. 16 : 2 ; Num. 7 : 89 ; Heb. 4 : 16. -I told him 
that I knew not wliat to say when I came ; and he bade me 
say to this effect : God be merciful to me a sinner, and make 
me to know and believe in Jesus Christ ; for I see, that if 
his righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that 
righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard 
that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy 
Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world ; and 
moreover, that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a 
poor sinner as I am. And I am a sinner indeed. Lord, 
take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy grace in 
the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ. 
Amen. 

Chr. And did you do as you were bid ? 

Hope. Yes, over, and over, and over. 

Chr. And did the Father reveal the Son to you ? 

Hope. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, 
nor fifth, no, nor at the sixth time neither. 

Chr. What did you do then ? 

Hope. What ? why, I could not tell what to do. 

Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? 

Hope. Yes ; and a hundred times twice told. 

Chr. And what was the reason you did not ? 

Hope. I believed that it was true which hath been told 
me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this Christ, all 
the world could not save me ; and therefore, thought I with 
myself, if I leave off, I die, and I can but die at the throne 
of grace. And withal this came into my mind : " If it tarry, 
wait for it ; because it will surely come, and will not tarry." 



TRUE CONVERSION. 7 

■ Hab. 2:3. So I continued praying until the Father showed 
me his Son. 

Chr. And how was he revealed unto you ? 

Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with 
the eyes of my understanding, Eph. 1 : 18, 19; and thus 
it was. One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at 
any one time in my life ; and this sadness was tlirough a 
fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And 
as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlast- 
ing damnation of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the 
Lord Jesus looking down from heaven upon me, and say- 
ing, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved." Acts 16 : 31. 

But I replied. Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner : 
and he answered, " My grace is sufRcient for thee." 2 Cor. 
12 : 9. Then I said, " But, Lord, what is believing ?" And 
then I saw from that saying, " He that cometh to me shall 
never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never 
thirst," John 6 : 35, that believing and coming was all one ; 
and that he that came, that is, that ran out in his heart and 
affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believect in 
Christ. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked 
further, " But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am be 
indeed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee ?" And I 
heard him say, " And him that cometh to me I will in no 
wise ccfst out." John 6 : 37. Then I said. But how. Lord, 
must I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my faith 
may be placed aright upon thee ? Then he said, " Christ 
Jesus came into the world to save sinners." 1 Tim. 1 : 15. 
He is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that 
believes. Rom. 10 : 4, and chap. 4. He died for our sins, 
and rose again for our justification. Rom. 4 : 25. He loved 



8 ^ TRUE CONVERSION. 

US, and washed us from our sins in his own blood. Rev. 
1 : 5. . He is the Mediator between God and us. 1 Tim. 2 : 5. 
He ever liveth to make intercession for us. Heb. 7 : 25. 
From all which I gathered, that I must look for righteous- 
ness in his person, and for satisfaction for my sins by his 
blood: that what he did in obedience to his Father's law, 
and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for himself, 
but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thank- 
ful. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of 
tears, and mine affections running over with love to the 
name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ. 

Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul in- 
deed. But tell me particularly what effect this had upon 
your spirit. 

Hope. It made me see that all the world, notwithstand- 
ing all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemna- 
tion. It made me see that God the Father, though he be 
just, can justly justify the coming sinner. It made me 
greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and con- 
founded me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; for there 
never came a thought into my heart before now that showed 
me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy 
life, and long to do something for the honor and glory of the 
name of the Lord Jesus. Yea, I thought that had I now a 
thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for 
the sake of the Lord Jesus. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETy. 



IVo. 304, 

CHRIST IN HIS MEMBERS. 



" I was hungry, and ye gave me meat ; 
I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; 
I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; 
I was naked, and ye clothed me ; 
I was sick, and ye visited me; 
I was in prison, and ye came unto me." 

More than thirty years ago we had a near neighbor, intel- 
ligent, naturally amiable, and affectionate. Her husband 
was young, active, industrious, and enterprising ; in good 
business, of regular habits, and promising fair to become one 
of our most useful citizens. In the year 1814 she was evi- 
dently renewed by divine grace, and became a lovely Chris- 
tian. Often did the sweetness of her first Christian love 
cheer the hearts of the pious, and presage a peculiarly happy 
and useful life. On the 25th of December of that year, she 
openly declared herself to be on the Lord's side, by a public 
profession of religion. Three lovely children cheered the 
family circle and enjoyed her affections. Pleasant and hap- 
py were those days, with a bright prospect of many more to 
come. But " clouds and darkness are round about thee," 
Jehovah. " Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the 
great waters, and thy footsteps are not known." 

In the autumn of 1815, while all her hopes were in their 
freshness, God was pleased to send mortal sickness into the 
family, which took first the youngest of her three children, 
then the second, and then, in a few weeks, the husband and 
father. She followed her husband to the grave, leading her 
little son, the only survivor of her family. We can scarcely 
say she wept. Her grief was too deep for tears. But she 
bowed in humble submission, saying, " The Lord gave, and 
the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the 

VOL. XII. 2^^ 



2 CHRIST IN HIS MEMBERS. 

Lord." Her solitary dwelling was indeed " the house of 
mourning." 

Could there be an additional ingredient in her cup of 
sorrows ? In the untimely and forced sale of property, she 
and her orphan son had not a house where to lay their head. 
She went her sohtary way, with her only surviving dear 
one, and took up her abode in a hired dwelling. But she 
leaned on the arm which supports the widow and the father- 
less. "We never heard of a murmuring word. She was 
happy in her God and Saviour. Her friends sympathized in 
her afflictions, though not able to afford much pecuniary aid. 
Her shears and her needle furnished supplies for her wants ; 
while humble gratitude and praise for the blessed consola- 
tions and glorious hopes of the Gospel, ceased not to flow 
from a heart smitten by the hand of a Father. 

After a few years, she began to be distressed with pains 
in her head. These continued long, and resulted in deafness 
incurable, and mental derangement. Her cup of sorrows 
was full, and the waves rolled over her. All the attention 
and kindness of friends could not keep her from wander- 
mg. The asylums for the insane and the poor were not 
then as they are now. Great were the grief and anxiety 
of friends and neighbors, as they watched her, or followed 
her from place to place. At length she wandered into a 
neighboring county, and was humanely taken care of in a 
poor-house. After several months, she was found by an 
officer of the church of which she was a member. He was 
deeply affected at the interview. Marks of suffering wore 
found upon her ; not imputable to unkindness in the keepers, 
but to the want of means and skill in the proper care of the 
deaf and insane. She entreated him not to leave her. Nor 
did he, till he had given assurance that he would return 
again. The church met. Her case was stated. And more 
than one, in thinking of her character and condition, could 
not bear the thought of leaving this disciple of Christ in 



CHRIST IN IIIS MEMBERS. 3 

the poor-house. It seemed almost as though the Master him- 
self were suffering there. Our sister had not forfeited her 
Christian character, nor even brought a stain upon it. She 
had always, even in her insane wanderings, so far as we 
knew, maintained her love to Christ, to the Gospel, and 
to the Church. She was a real, though a deeply afflicted 
Christian. She could not be left in the poor-house. 

" She sued so humbly for relief, 
That we could never say her nay." 

During ten or twelve years she has been sustained chiefly 
by the contributions of the church. She says and does un- 
reasonable things ; but she fears to do wrong. Those who 
hear her pray, bear witness to her composure, and propriety, 
and earnestness in the exercise. She always prays for the 
church, and for her pastor. When she enjoys ordinary 
health, she labors diligently in the M^ork which she can do. 

She cannot hear preaching at all, nor a prayer, nor read- 
ing, nor conversation, except with the one who has her in 
charge. Yet with a slate and pencil an interchange of 
thought may sometimes be made very interesting and profit- 
able. Every pleasant Sabbath she may be seen with her 
guardian at the house of God. She behaves with perfect 
decorum, disturbs no one, and is unnoticed by strangers. She 
loves to be there. It is refreshing to her to be in the house 
of God, to receive the salutations of friends, and to give them 
the hand of friendship. She reads the Bible and loves it. 
She loves the Saviour and all that love him. We recog- 
nize in her an humble disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus. 
Learn, 

1. To recognize Christ in his members. "I was hun- 
gry, and ye gave me meat." Not that every one in want, 
or trouble, is a member of Christ. For, by indolence or 
vice, by fanaticism or crime, or by some other fault, persons 
may be destitute or atHicted. Such are not members of 
Christ. Do them good, as Christ did to all sorts of people, 



4 CHRIST IN HIS MEMBERS. 

teaching and feeding them, in a due exercise of compassion. 
But recognize the pecuHar claims of the members of Christ 
Avhen in want or distress. If the pious, like her whose nar- 
rative has been given, are in want or distress by .the provi- 
dence of CTod ; or if they, for Christ's sake, are despoiled of 
their goods, turned out of doors, driven into exile, beaten, or 
cast into prison — be sure to recognize them as the members 
of Christ. Due care and examination will generally enable 
us to distinguish them. We may find the members of 
Christ, as Obadiah did a hundred of the Lord's prophets ; or 
as Onesiphorus did the apostle Paul, when he was in Rome, 
and " sought him out diligently." 2 Tim. 1 : 17. Learn, 

2. To relieve Christ in his members. To feed, to clothe, 
to receive, to protect, to visit, to comfort believers in want, 
or trouble, is to relieve Christ ; as he says, "Ye did it unto 
ME." So Obadiah hid the Lord's prophets in a cave, and 
fed them. So Onesiphorus refreshed Paul in prison, and 
" was not ashamed of his chain." So the Macedonian Chris- 
tians sent once and again to relieve Paul, and once by their 
good minister Epaphroditus, who was nigh unto death in the 
same service. They also gave bountifully for the relief of 
the poor saints at Jerusalem. Such sacrifices are pleasing 
to the King, who will say, "Ye did it unto me." Learn, 

3. To be afraid of failing to relieve Christ in his mem- 
bers. Through ignorance, or carelessness, or want of sym- 
pathy, or some selfish plea, members of the church may fail 
to recognize or relieve Christ in his needy and afflicted ones. 
But, if they fail from such causes, when they might know, 
and could give, how fearful the prospect. Their failure may 
arise from want of true love either to Christ or his members. 
If so, the King shall say unto them, "Ye did it not to me." 
*' And these shall go away into everlasting punishment." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. 303. 

WILL YOU BE SAYED? 



You have a soul worth millions of worlds. It needs 
salvation, because it is lost, sinful, and guilty. Unless 
saved by grace, you will for ever perish. If ever saved, 
you must be willing to be saved. Will you be saved ? If 
you will, then, 

1. Settle it firmly in your mind that there is a great and 
glorious God ; that Jesus Christ is the only begotten Son 
of God, and the only Saviour of lost men ; that the Bible is 
the true word of God ; that there is a glorious heaven and 
a dreadful hell, in one of which the judgment of God will 
soon fix your soul, there to abide for ever. 

2. Be assured that the last sentence will be passed upon 
you, according as your works in this life are good or bad. 
Remember, that it is very difficult to get to heaven, but that 
the way to hell is broad and easy. Never forget that your 
heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked ; 
that the devil is busy, cunning, and malignant; and that 
the world spreads its snares on every side. Y'our time is 
short, your work is great, your enemies are strong, and 
your strength is small. Your case is exceedingly solemn. 

3. Consider that the glories of heaven are worth all 
your care and pains ; that hell is so terrible as to make your 
earnest and speedy flight from it most reasonable ; and 
that if you die in your sins, it would be better for you if 
you had never been born. All the troubles of this world 
are light to him who will soon be at rest in the bosom of 
his God. All the riches, honors, and pleasures of earth, 
are a poor gain to him who must soon lie down in sorrow 
and dwell in everlasting^ burnino-s. How terrible will hell 
be to those who have had many good things here. 

4. Seriously say to yourself, " I may yet reach heaven, 
and avoid the fearful torments of hell. If saved, what a 
God shall I enjoy for ever and ever. If lost at last, how 
can I bear the weight of God's displeasure ? There is yet 
hope. The door of mercy and the gate of heaven are yet 
open. If I fail of salvation, my doom will be as just as it 
will be fearful. God's offers are free and frequent, sincere 



2 WILL YOU UK SAVE[)1 

and earnest. And shall I murder my own soul ? Shall it 
be written on my prison for ever, * Here is a self- destroyer, 
a despiser of gospel grace ?'" 

5. Solemnly ask yourself, ''What is there in sin that I 
should love it so ? Can I dig the pearl of happiness out 
of the dunghill of this world ? Can I certainly attain the 
houses, lands, honors, or friends I seek ? If I can get them, 
may they not make me anxious in life and torment me in 
death ? Is it not my greatest wisdom to be wise unto 
salvation ? Is it not my best work to work out my salva- 
tion with fear and trembling?" 

6. Search and try your heart. Is your love unfeigned ? 
Is your faith saving faith ? Is your humility deep ? Is 
your repentance godly sorrow? Is your face really set 
towards Zion ? Is sin in your eyes hateful ? Do you love 
the whole law of God? Is Jesus Christ just such a Sav- 
iour as you think you need ? Do you Avish to be found in 
liim ? Have you renounced all for him ? 

7. Never seek any other way of salvation than that of 
the Gospel. Jesus says, " I am the door : I am the way, 
the truth, and the life. No man cometh unto the Father 
but by me. Without me ye can do nothing." Whoever 
attempts to go to heaven in any other way, is said in Scrip- 
ture to be "a thief and a robber." The tears, and groans, 
and cries, and good works of yourself and all your friends, 
cannot atone for a single sin. "Without the shedding of 
blood, there is no remission." The blood of Jesus alone 
can cleanse you. He is full of mercy, full of pity, full of 
grace. He is the most loving of all who ever dwelt on 
earth. He never tramples on a broken heart. 

V^ILL YOU BE SAVED ? 

1. Then come, a lost, undone, miserable, hopeless, help- 
less sinner, to Christ, the all-sufficient and merciful Saviour. 
Cry out, "Lord, save me, or I perish." Look to him and 
say, " My Lord, and my God." Leave him not, but say, 
*'Lord, to whom shall I go ? Thou hast the words of 
eternal life. Thy blood can cleanse me from all sin ; yea, 
though my sins be as scarlet, they shall be as wool ; though 
they be red like crimson, they shall be as snow, if only thy 
blood shall be applied." 

2. Come, as an humble, penitent sinner. Come trem- 



WILL VOU BE SAVED? 3 

bling, Avith tears in )'our eyes and with deep sorrow in your 
heart. Come, as one ill-deserving in the sight of God and 
in your own sight. Like the publican, in humility and grief 
say, " God be merciful to me a sinner." Say as the Cen- 
turion, *' Lord, I am not w^orthy that thou shouldst come 
under my roof." Say, "I am guilty, awfully guilty. I 
have sinned against love, and mercy, and truth, and holi- 
ness. Yet there is mercy with thee. That is all my hope. 
I part with all my sins. I confess I deserve no good thing. 
Have mercy upon me, God, not for my sake, but for 
Christ's sake." 

3. Come, as vile, to be cleansed at the fountain of grace. 
Humbly say, " Not Lazarus, with all his sores, nor Job with 
his boils, sitting in the ashes, were so filthy and odious in 
the sight of man, as I am in the sight of a pure and holy 
God on account of my sins. Sin cleaves to every thought, 
every duty, every enjoyment. I abhor myself. Unclean, 
unclean. wash me in thy blood." 

4. Come, feeling your grievous bondage. Say, *' Lord, 
thou hast paid a full ransom for me. Thou hast redeemed 
me by thy blood, more precious than ten thousand worlds. 
Take off these fetters of iniquity. Let me not be held by 
the cords of my sins. Rescue me out of this dungeon of 
depravity. I am sunk down in worldliness. Quicken me. 
If thou wilt make me free, I shall be free indeed." 

5. Come to Christ as the great Physician. Tell him of 
the plague of a hard heart, of the agonies of a wountied 
conscience, and of the anguish of a w^ounded spirit. Tell 
him there is no soundness in you ; that the whole head is 
sick and the w^hole heart faint, and that you are covered 
with wounds and bruises and putrefying sores. If you 
touch even the hem of his garment you will be made whole. 

6. Come, weary and heavy-laden under the burden of 
your sins, that Christ may give rest to your soul. He can 
take away also the burden of all your griefs. No one com- 
forts like Christ. 

v. Come to Christ, as the poor come to the rich, for 
alms. Bring no price in your hand. You must " buy" of, 
him, but it must be " without money and without price." 
" The full soul he sends empty away." Bring not your 
own righteousnesses. They are all as filthy rags. Say, 
*'I want grace, faith, love, hope, zeal, righteousness, pa- 



4 WILL YOU BE SAVED ? 

tience, every thing, and I have nothing to give in return. 
O take me, a 'poor sinner." 

8. Come to Christ, hungering and thirsting. He is the 
Bread of heaven. He is the water of life. Cry to him, 
" Lord, give me the hidden manna. Let me have at least 
tlie crumbs that fall from the children's table. Give me 
the water thou gavest to the woman at Jacob's well. Yea, 
pour floods upon me, for I am poor, and needy, and thirsty 
too." 

9. Come to Christ to teach you. Come, feeling your 
ignorance. Jesus says, " Learn of me, for I am meek and 
lowly ;" as if he had said, ** I will not upbraid you for your 
dulness. I will teach you the same lesson over and over 
again." Say, " Lord, I would be thy disciple. I am igno- 
rant and blind. Open thou mine eyes." 

10. Come in all your weakness. Trust in Christ as the 
Captain of your salvation. If he shall be with you, you 
will be safe. He says, " My grace is sufficient for thee." 

1 1 . Come, as a condemned criminal, to Christ your advo- 
cate with God. Your crimes are many and great. Your 
accusers are many and unrelenting. The law pronounces 
you accursed. " God is angry with the wicked every day." 
But Jesus has undertaken for such as you. Entreat him, 
** Lord, stand between the justice of God and my perishing 
soul." 

12. Come, as a willing servant, to Christ your Lord and 
Master. Obey, honor, love, and serve him, even unto death. 
Let your heart go out after him, let your tongue praise him, 
let your hands work for him., let your feet walk in his paths. 
Esteem none of his commands grievous. Have respect to 
all his commandments. 

13. Come to Christ as your portion. Make him your 
all in all. He is wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, 
redemption. He is more. His word is life. His smile is 
joy. His plaudit is eternal glory. To be with him and to 
be like him, is heaven. 

Thus come to Christ, and you ivill he saved, for the 
mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. 

[The above pages have been condensed from an old author.] 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 506. 

THE 

GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

BY REY. JOHN" M. MASON, D.D. 



The Old Testament closes with a remarkable prediction 
concerning Messiah and his forerunner. " Behold, I will 
send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great 
and dreadful day of the Lord : and he shall turn the heart 
of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children 
to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a 
curse." Accordingly, at the appointed time, came John 
the Baptist, in the spirit and power of Elias, saying, " Re- 
pent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at handT In his 
great work of preparing the way of the Lord, he challenged 
sin without respect of persons. The attempt was hazard- 
ous ; but feeling the majesty of his character, he was not 
to be moved by considerations which divert or intimidate 
the ordinary man. Name, sect, station, were alike to bim. 
Not even the imperial purple, when it harbored a crime, 
afforded protection from his rebuke. His fidelity in this 
point cost him his life. For having reproved Herod, for 
Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, and for all the evils 
which Herod had done, he was thrown into prison, and at 
length sacrificed to the most implacable of all resentments, 
the resentment of an abandoned woman. 

It was in the interval between his arrest and execution 
that he sent to Jesus the message on which my text is 
grounded. As his office gave him no security against the 
workings of unbelief in the hour of temptation, it is not 
strange, if, in a dungeon and in chains, his mind was in- 
vaded by an occasional doubt. The question by two of his 
VOL. XII. 24 



2 C(1S1>EL FOR THE POOR. 

disciples, " Art thou he that should come, or do we look for 
another?" has all the air of an inquiry for personal satis- 
faction ; and so his Lord's reply seems to treat it. " Go 
your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and 
heard ; how that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers 
are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, to the 
POOR THE Gospel is preached." Luke 7 : 22. The an- 
swer is clear and convincing-. It enumerates the very signs 
by which the church was to know her God, for whom she 
had waited ; and they were enough to remove the suspi- 
cions and confirm the soul of his servant John. 

Admitting that Jesus Christ actually wrought the works 
here ascribed to him, every sober man will conclude wdth 
Nicodemus, " We know that thou art a teacher come from 
God ; for no man can do these miracles that thou doest, ex- 
cept God be -with him." It is not, however, my intention 
to dwell on the miraculous evidence of Christianity. The 
article wdiich I select as exhibiting it in a plain but inter- 
esting vicM^, is, the preachixg of Gospel to the poor. 

In scriptural language, " the poor," who are most ex- 
posed to suffering and least able to endure it, represent all 
who are destitute of good necessary to their perfection and 
happiness ; especially those who feel their want, and are 
disconsolate — especially those who are anxiously waiting 
for the consolation of Israel. Thus, in Psalm 40 : 17, "I 
am poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon me." Thus, 
in Isaiah 41 : 17, "When the poor and needy seek water 
and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the 
Lord will hear them ; I the God of Israel will not forsake 
them." Thus also, chapter 61 : 1, "The Lord hath anointed 
me to preach good tidings to the meekr the same word with 
that rendered " poor ;" and so it is translated by Luke, chap- 
ter 4 : 18, to "preach the Gospel to the jjoor," which is 
connected, both in the prophet and evangelist, with " heal- 
ing the hrnl-PD-hrartpd.'' Onr TiOrd, tlierefore. refers Jolin, 



liUtPKL roK THE I'UUB. 3 

as he did the Jews in the synagogue at Nazareth, to this 
very prediction as fulfilled in himself. So that his own 
definition of his OAvn religion is, a system of consolation for 
the tvretclied. This is so far from excluding the literal poor, 
that the success of the Gospel with thein is the pledge of 
its success with all others ; for they not only form the ma- 
jority of the human race, but they also bear the chief bur- 
den of its calamities. Moreover, as the sources of pleasure 
and pain are substantially the same in all men ; and as 
affliction, by suspending the influence of their artificial dis- 
tinctions, reduces them to the level of their common nature, 
whatever, by appealing to the principles of that nature, pro- 
motes the happiness of the multitude, must equally promote 
the happiness of the residue ; and whatever consoles the 
one, must, in like circumstances, console the other also. 
As we cannot, therefore, maintain the suitableness of the 
Gospel to the literal poor, who are the mass of mankind, 
without maintaining its prerogative of comforting the 
afflicted ; nor, on the contrary, its prerogative of comforting, 
separately from its suitableness to the mass of mankind, I 
shall consider these two ideas as involving each other. 

I. AYith this explanation, the first thing which demands 
your notice is the fact itself — Gospel preached to the 

POOR. 

From the remotest antiquity there have been, in all 
civilized nations, men who devoted themselves to the in- 
crease of knowledge and happiness. Their speculations 
were subtle, their arguings acute, and many of their max- 
ims respectable. But to whom were their instructions ad- 
dressed ? To casual visitors, to selected friends, to admiring 
pupils, to privileged orders. In some countries, and on cer- 
tain occasions, when vanity was to be gratified by the acqui- 
sition of fame, their appearances were more public. For 
example, one read a poem, another a history, and a third a 
play, before the crowd assembled at the Olympic games. 



4 , • GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

To be crowned there, was, in the proudest period of Greece 
the summit of glory and ambition. But what did this, 
what did the mysteries of pagan worship, or what the lec- 
tures of pagan philosophy, avail the 2^eople ? Sunk in igno- 
rance, in poverty, in crime, they lay neglected. Age suc- 
ceeded to age, and school to school ; a thousand sects and 
systems rose, flourished, and fell, but the degradation of the 
multitude remained. Not a beam of light found its way 
into their darkness, nor a drop of consolation into their cup. 
Indeed, a plan for raising them to the dignity of rational 
enjoyment, and fortifying them against the disasters of life, 
was not to be expected ; for as nothiiig can exceed the con- 
tempt in which they were held by the professors of wisdom, 
so any human device, however captivating in theory, would 
have been worthless in fact. The most sagacious heathen 
could imagine no better means of improving them than the 
precepts of his philosophy. Now, supposing it to be ever 
so salutary, its benefits must have been confined to a very 
few — the notion that the bulk of mankind may become phi- 
losophers being altogether extravagant. They ever have 
been, and, in the nature of things, ever must be, unlearned. 
Besides, the grovelling superstition and brutal manners of 
the heathen presented insuperable obstacles. Had the plan 
of their cultivation been even suggested, especially if it 
comprehended the more abject of the species, it would have 
been universally derided, and would have merited derision, 
no less than the dreams of modern folly about the perfecti- 
bility of man. 

Under this incapacity of instructing the poor, how 
would the pagan sage have acquitted himself as their com- 
forter ? His dogmas, during prosperity and health, might 
humor his fancy, might flatter his pride, or dupe his under- 
standing ; but against the hour of grief or dissolution he 
had no solace for himself, and could have none for others. 
I am not to be persuaded, in contradiction to every principle 



tiosrr.i, von tui-: poor. 5 

of my animal anJ rational being, that pain, and misfortune, 
and death, are no evils, and are beneath a wise man's re- 
gard. And could I work myself up into so absurd a con- 
viction, how would it promote my comfort ? Comfort is 
essentially consistent with nature and truth. By perverting 
my judgment, by hardening my heart, by chilling my nobler 
AvaiTTith, and stifling my best afiections, I may gi'ow stupid, 
but shall be far enough from consolation. Convert me into 
a beast, and I shall be without remorse ; into a block, and 
I shall feel no pain. But this was not my request. I asked 
you for consolation, and you destroy my ability to receive it. 
I asked you to bear me over death, in the fellowship of im- 
mortals, and you begin by transforming me into a monster. 
Here are no glad tidings : nothing to cheer the gloom of 
outward or inward poverty. And the pagan teacher could 
give no better. From him, therefore, the miserable, even 
of his own country, and class, and kindred, had nothing to 
hope. But to " lift the needy from the dunghill," and wipe 
away the tears from the mourner ; to lighten the burdens 
of the heart ; to heal its maladies, repair its losses, and 
enlarge its enjoyments ; and that under every form of pen- 
ury and sorrow, in all nations, and ages, and circumstances ; 
as it is a scheme too vast for the human faculties, so, had it 
been committed to merely human execution, it could not 
have proceeded a single step, and would have been remem- 
bered only as a frantic reverie. 

Yet all this hath Christianity undertaken. Her voice 
is, without distinction, to people of every color, and clime, 
and condition ; to the continent and the isles ; to the man 
of the city, the man of the field, and the man of the woods ; 
to the Moor, the Hindoo, and the Hottentot ; to the sick 
and desperate ; to the beggar, the convict, and the slave. 
She impairs no faculty, interdicts no aflection, infringes no 
relation ; but taking men as they are, with all their deprav- 
ity and woes, she profilers them peace and blessccbiess. Her 
VOL. XII. 24* 



Q GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

boasting is not vain. The course of experiment has lasted 
through more than fifty generations of men. It is passing 
every hour before our eyes ; and for reasons to be afterwards 
assigned, has never failed, in a single instance, when it -has 
been fairly tried. 

The design is stupendous ; and the least success induces 
us to inquire, by whom it was projected and carried into 
efiect. And what is our astonishment, Avhen we learn, 
that it was by men of obscure birth, mean education, and 
feeble resource ; by men from a nation hated for their relig- 
ion, and proverbial for their moroseness ; by carpenters, and 
tax-gatherers, and fishermen of Judea. What shall we say 
of this phenomenon ? A recurrence to the Jewish scrip- 
tures, which had long predicted it, either surrenders the 
argument, or increases the difficulty. If you admit that 
they reveal futurity, you recognize the finger of God, and 
the controversy is at an end. If you call them mere con- 
jectures, you are still to account for their correspondence 
with the event, and to explain how a great system of benev- 
olence, unheard, unthought of by learned antiquity, came 
to be cherished, to be transmitted for centuries from father 
to son, and at length attempted among the Jews. And you 
are also contradicted by the fact, that however clearly such 
a system is marked out in their scriptures, they were so far 
from adopting it, that they entirely mistook it ; rejected it, 
nationally, with disdain ; persecuted unto death those who 
embarked in it ; and have not embraced it to this day. Yet 
in the midst of this bigoted and obstinate people, sprang up 
the deliverance of the human race. " Salvation is of the 
Jews." Within half a century after the resurrection of 
Christ, his disciples had penetrated to the extremes of the 
Roman empire, and had carried the " Day-spring from on 
high" to innumerable tribes who were "sitting in the re- 
gion and shadow of death." And so exclusively Christian 
is this plan, so remote from the sphere of common effort. 



GOSPEL ruR THE POOR. 7 

that after it has been proposed and executed, men revert 
perpetually to theiu wonted littleness and carelessness. The 
whole face of Christendom is overspread with proofs, that, 
in proportion as they depart from the simplicity of the Gos- 
pel, they forget the multitude as before, and the doctrines 
of consolation expire. In so far, too, as they adapt to their 
own notions of propriety, the general idea which they have 
borrowed from the Gospel, of meliorating the condition of 
their species, they have produced, and are every day pro- 
ducing, effects the very reverse of their professions. Dis- 
content, and confusion, and crimes, they propagate in abun- 
dance. They have smitten the earth with curses, and del- 
uged it with blood ; but the instance is yet to be discovered, 
in which they have "bound up the broken-hearted." The 
fact, therefore, that Christianity is, in the broadest sense of 
the terms, " glad tidings to the poor," is perfectly original. 
It stands without rival or comparison. It has no foundation 
in the principles of human enterprise, and could never have 
existed without the inspiration of that " Father of lights, from 
whom Cometh down every good and every perfect gift." 

II. As the Christian fact is original, so the reasons of 
ITS EFFICACY ARE PECULIAR. Christianity can afford cmiso- 
lation, because it is fitted to our nature and character. I 
specify particulars : 

1. The Gospel proceeds upon the principle of immor- 
tality. 

That our bodies shall die is indisputable. But that 
reluctance of nature, that panting after life, that horror of 
annihilation, of which no man can completely divest him- 
self, connect the death of the body with deep solicitude. 
While neither these, nor any other merely rational consider- 
ations, ascertain the certainty of future being, much less of 
future bliss.' The feeble light which glimmered around 
this point among the heathen, flowed not from investigation, 
but tradition. It was to be seen chiefly among the vulgar, 



8 GOSPEL FUR THE POUR. 

who inherited the tales of their fathers ; and among the 
poets, .who preferred popular fable to philosophic speculation. 
Reason would have pursued her discovery, but the pagans 
knew not how to apply the notion of immortality, even 
when they had it. It governed not, their precepts, it es- 
tablished not their hope. When they attempted to discuss 
the grounds of it, " they became vain in their imaginations, 
and their foolish heart was darkened." The best arguments 
of Socrates are unworthy of a child who has " learned the 
holy Scriptures." And it is remarkable enough, that the 
doctrine of immortality is as perfectly detached, and as 
barren of moral effect, in the hands of modern infidels, as 
it was in the hands of the ancient pagans. They have 
been so unable to assign it a convenient place in their sys- 
tem — they have found it to be so much at variance with 
their habits, and so troublesome in their warfare with the 
Scriptures, that the more resolute of the sect have discarded 
it altogether. With the soberer part of them it is no better 
than an opinion ; but it never was, and never will be a 
source of true consolation, in any system or any bosom, but 
the system of Christianity and the bosom of the Christian. 
" Life and immortality," about which some have guessed ; 
for which all have sighed ; but of which none could trace 
the relations, or prove the existence — are not merely hinted, 
they " are brought to light by the Gospel." This is the 
parting point with every other religion ; and yet the very 
point upon which our happiness hangs. That we shall sur- 
vive the body, and pass from its dissolution to the bar of 
God, and from the bar of God to endless retribution, are 
truths of infinite moment, and of pure revelation. They 
demonstrate the incapacity of temporal things to content 
the soul. They explain why grandeur, and pleasure, and 
fame leave the heart sad. He who pretends to be my com- 
forter without consulting my immortality, overlooks my 
essential want. The Gospel supplies it. Immortality is 



GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 9 

-the basis of her fabric. She resolves the importance of man 
into its true reason — the vahie of his soul. She sees under 
every human form, however rug£:^ed or abused, a spirit un- 
alterable by external change, unassailable by death, and 
endued with stupendous faculties of knowledge ftnd action, 
of enjoyment and suffering ; a spirit, at the same time, de- 
praved and guilty, and therefore liable to irreparable ruin. 
These are Christian views. They elevate us to a height, at 
which the puny theories of the world stand and gaze. They 
stamp new interest on all my relations, and all my acts. 
They hold up before me objects vast as my Avishes, terrible 
as my fears, and permanent as my being. They bind me 
to eternity. 

2. Having thus unfolded the general doctrine of immor- 
tality, the Gospel advances further, informing us, that al- 
though a future life is sure, future blessedness is by no 
tneans a matter of course. This receives instant confirma- 
tion from a review of our character as sinners. 

None but an atheist, or, which is the same thing, a 
madman, will deny the existence of moral obligation, and 
the sanction of moral law : in other words, that it is our 
duty to obey God, and that he has annexed penalties to dis- 
obedience. As little can it be denied, that we have actually 
disobeyed him. Guilt has taken up its abode in the con- 
science, and indicates, by signs not to be misunderstood, 
both its presence and power. To call this superstition, be- 
trays only that vanity which thinks to confute a doctrine by 
giving it an ill name. Depravity and its consequences meet 
us, at every moment, in a thousand shapes ; nor is there an 
individual breathing, who has escaped its taint. Therefore 
our relations to our Creator as innocent creatures have 
ceased, and are succeeded by the relation of rebels against 
his government. In no other light can he contemplate us, 
because Ids judgment is according to truth. A conviction 
of this begets alarm and wretchedness. And, whatever 



10 GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

some may pretend, a guilty conscience is the secret worm 
which preys uj)on the vitals of human peace — the invisit)le 
spell, which turns the draught of pleasure into wormwood 
and gall. To laugh at it as an imaginary evil, is the mark 
of a fool ; for what can be more rational than to tremble at 
the displeasure of an almighty God. If, then, I ask how I 
am to be delivered, or whether deliverance is possible, human 
reason is dumb ; or if she open her lips, it is only to teaze 
me with conjectures, which evince that she knows nothing 
of the matter. Here the Christian verity interferes ; show- 
ing me, on the one hand, that my alarm is well founded — 
that ray demerit and danger are far beyond even my own 
suspicions — that God, with whom I have to do, " will by no 
means clear the guilty ;" but, on the other hand, revealing 
the provision of his infinite wisdom and grace, for releasing 
me from guilt. " God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life." The more I ponder 
this method of salvation, the more I am convinced that it 
displays the divine perfection, and exalts the divine govern- 
ment ; so that " it became Him, for whom are all things, 
and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto 
glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through 
sufferings." Now I know where to obtain the first requisite 
to happiness, pardon of sin. In Christ Jesus the Lord, is 
that justifying righteousness, the w^ant of which, though I 
was ignorant of the cause, kept me miserable till this hour. 
I cling to it, and am safe. His precious blood purges my 
conscience. It extends peace to me as a river, and the 
glory of redemption like a flowing stream. My worst fears 
are dispelled : "the wrath to come" is not for me ; I can 
look with composure at futurity, and feel joy springing up 
with the thought that I am immortal. 

3. In addition to deliverance from wrath, Christianity 
provides relief against the plague of the heart. 



GOSrEI. FOR THE POOR. H 

It will not be contested, that disorder reigns among the 
passions of men. The very attempts to rectify it are a suffi- 
cient concession, and their ill success shows their authors 
to have been " physicians of no value." That particular 
ebullitions of passion have been repressed, and particular 
habits of vice overcome, without Christian aid, is admitted. 
But if any one shall conclude, that these are examples of 
victory over the 'princi'ple of depravity, he will greatly err. 
For, not to insist that the experience of the world is against 
him, we have complete evidence, that all reformations, not 
evangelical, are merely an exchange of lusts ; or rather, the 
elevation of one evil appetite by the depression of another ; 
the strengtJi of depravity continuing the same, li^form only 
varied. Nor can it be otherwise. Untaught of God, the 
most comprehensive genius is unable either to trace the 
original of corruption, or to check its force. It has its foun- 
tain where he least and last believes it to be, but where the 
omniscient eye has searched it out — in the human heart ; 
the heart, filled with enmity against God — the heart, de- 
ceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. But, the 
discovery being made, his measures, you hope, ^yill take 
surer effect. Gluite the contrary. It now defies his po\yer, 
as it formerly did his wisdom. How have disciples of the 
moral school studied and toiled ; how have they resolved, 
and vowed, and fasted, watched, and prayed, travelling 
through the whole circuit of devout austerities, and set 
down at last, wearied in the greatness of their way. But 
no marvel ; the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, nor the 
leopard his spots. Neither can impurity purify itself Here 
again, light from tlie footsteps of the Christian truth breaks 
in upon the darkness, and Gospel again flows from her 
tongue ; the Gospel of a neiv heart — the Gospel of regen- 
erating and sanctifying grace, as the promise, the gift, the 
work of God. " I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and 
ye shall be clean ; from all vour filthincss. and from all 



12 GOSPEL FOn THE POOR. 

your idols, will I cleanse you : a new heart also M'ill I give 
you, and a new spirit will I put within you : and I will 
take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will 
give you a heart of flesh : and I will put my Spirit within 
you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall 
keep my judgments, and do them." Here all our difficulties 
are resolved at once. The spirit of life in Christ Jesus 
quickens the dead in trespasses and sins. The Lord our 
strength works in us all the good pleasure of his goodness, 
and the work of faith with power. That which was im- 
possible with men, is not so with him ; for with him all 
things are possible : even the subduing our iniquities ; cre- 
ating us anew, after his own image, in knowledge, righteous- 
ness, and true holiness ; turning our polluted souls into his 
own habitation through the Spirit, and making us "meet for 
the inheritance of the saints in light." Yerily this is gos- 
pel ; worthy to go in company with remission of sin. And 
shall I conquer at last ? Shall I, indeed, be delivered from 
the bondage and the torment of corruption ? A new sen- 
sation passes through my breast. " I lift up mine eyes to 
the hills from whence cometh my help ;" and with the hope 
of perfecting holiness in the fear of God, hail my immor- 
tality. 

4. Having thus removed our guilt and cleansed our 
afiections, the Gospel proceeds to put us in possession of 
adequate enjoyment. An irresistible law of our being impels 
us to seek happiness. Nor will a million of frustrated hopes 
deter from new experiments, because despair is infinitely 
more excruciating than the fear of fresh disappointment. 
But an impulse, always vehement and never successful, 
multiplies the materials and inlets of pain. This assertion 
carries with it its own proof; and the principle it assumes 
is verified by the history of our species. In every place, 
and at all times, ingenuity has been racked to meet the 
ravenous desires. Occupation, wealth, dignity, science. 



GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 13 

-amusement, all have been tried — are all tried at this hour, 
and all in vain. The heart still repines : the unappeased 
cry is. Give, give. There is a fatal error somewhere, and 
the Gospel detects it. Fallen away from God, we have 
substituted the creature in his place. This is the grand 
mistake — the fraud which sin has committed upon our 
nature. The Gospel reveals God as the satisfying good, and 
brings it within our reach. It proclaims him reconciled in 
Christ Jesus, as our Father, our friend, our portion. It 
introduces us into his presence, with liberty to ask in the 
Intercessor's name ; and asking, to " receive, that our joy 
may be full." It keeps us under his eye, surrounds us with 
his arm, feeds us upon living bread, which he gives from 
heaven, seals us up to an eternal inheritance, and even 
engages to reclaim our dead bodies from the grave, and 
fashion them in beauty which shall vie with heaven. It 
is enough ; my prlyers and desires can go no further ; I 
have got to the "Fountain of living waters. Return to thy 
rest, my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully Avith 
thee." 

This Gospel of immortality, in righteousness, purity, and 
bliss, would be inestimable, were it even obscure, and. not 
to be comprehended without painful scrutiny. But I ob- 
serve again, 

5. That, unlike the systems of men, and contrary to 
their anticipations, the Gospel is as umple as it is glorious. 
Its primary doctrines, though capable of exercising the most 
disciplined talent, are adapted to the common understanding. 
Were they dark and abstruse, they might gratify a specula- 
tive mind, but would be lost upon the multitude, and be 
unprofitable to all as doctrines of consolation. The mass 
of mankind never can be profound reasoners. To omit 
other difficulties, they have not leisure. Instruction, to do 
them good, must be interesting, solemn, repeated, and plain. 
This is the benign office of tlie Gospel. Her principal topics 
VOL. XII. 25 



14 GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

are few ; they are constantly recurring in various connec- 
tions ;.tliey come home to every man's condition ; they have 
an interpreter in his bosom ; they are enforced by motives 
which honesty can hardly mistake, and conscience will 
rarely dispute. Unlettered men, who love their Bible, sel- 
dom quarrel about the prominent articles of faith and duty ; 
and as seldom do they appear apaong the proselytes of that 
meagre refinement which arrogates the title of Philosophi- 
cal Christianity. 

From its simplicity, moreover, the Gospel derives ad- 
vantages in consolation. Grief, whether in the learned or 
illiterate, is always simple. A man bowed down under 
calamity has no relish for investigation. His powers relax ; 
he leans upon his comforter ; his support must be without 
toil, or his spirit faints. Conformably to these reflections, 
we see, on the one hand, that the unlearned compose the 
bulk of Christians, the life of whose souls is in the sub- 
stantial doctrines of the cross ; and on the other, that in the 
time of affliction, even the careless lend their ear to the voice 
of revelation. Precious at all times to believers, it is 
doubly precious in the hour of trial. These things prove, 
not only that the Gospel, when understood, gives a peculiar 
relief in trouble, but that it is readily apprehended — being 
most acceptable Vv^hen we are the least inclined to critical 
research. 

G. The Gospel, so admirable for its simplicity, has also 
the recommendation of truth. The wretch who dreams of 
transport, feels a new sting in his wretchedness, when he 
opens his eyes and the delusion is fled. No real misery can 
be removed, nor any real benefit conferred, by doctrines 
which want the seal of certainty. And were the Gospel of 
Jesus a human invention, or were it checked by any rational 
suspicion that it may turn out to be a fable, it might retain 
Its brilliancy, its sublimity, and even a portion of its inter- 
est, but the charm of its consolation would be ofone. Nay, 



GUSPEL FOR TilK POOR. 15 

'it would add gall to bitterness, by fostering a hope which 
the next hour might laugh to scorn. But we may dismiss 
our anxiety, for there is no hazard of such an issue. Not 
only " grace," but " truth," came by Jesus Christ. " The 
gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth" were 
words of the " Amen, the faithful and true Witness ;" and 
those which he has written in his blessed book are " pure 
words, as silver tried in the furnace, purified seven times." 
His promises can no man deny to be "exceeding great;" 
yet they derive their value to us from assurances, which, by 
satisfying the hardest conditions of evidence, render doubt 
not only inexcusable, but even criminal. " By two immu- 
table things, in which it was imposuhle for God to lie, we 
have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay 
hold upon the hope set before us." Now, therefore, the 
promises of the Gospel, which are " exceeding great," are 
also " precious." We need not scruple to trust ourselves, 
for this hfe and the life to come, upon that word which shall 
stand when heaven and earth pass away. Oh, it is this 
which makes Christianity glad tidings to the depressed and 
perishing. No fear of disappointment. No hope that shall 
make ashamed. Under the feet of evangelical faith is a 
covenant-promise, and that promise is everlasting Rock. " I 
know," said one, whose testimony is corroborated by millions 
in both worlds, " I know whom I have believed, and I am 
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have com- 
mitted unto him against that day." 

Lastly. The Gospel, as a system of consolation, is per- 
fected by the authority and energy which accompany it. 
The devices of man originate in his fancy, and expire with 
his breath. Destitute of power, they play around depravity 
like shadows round the mountain top, and vanish without 
leaving an iippression. Their eflect would be inconsider- 
able, could he manifest them to be true, because he cannot 
compel the admission of truth itself into the human mind. 



IQ GOriPEL FOR THE POOR. 

Indifference, unreasonableness, prejudice, petulance, oppose 
to it an almost incredible resistance. We see this in. the 
affairs of every day, and especially in the stronger conflicts 
of opinion and passion. Now, besides the opposition which 
moral truth has always to encounter, there is a particular 
reason why the truth of the Gospel, though most salutary, 
though attested by every thing within us and around us — 
by life and death — by earth, and heaven, and hell, will not 
succeed unless backed by divine energy. It is this. Sin 
has perverted the understanding of man, and poisoned his 
heart. It persuaded him first to throw away his blessed- 
ness, and then to hate it. The reign of this hatred, which 
the Scriptures call " enmity against God," is most absolute 
in every unrenewed man. It teaches him never to yield a 
point unfriendly to one corruption, without stipulating for 
an equivalent in favor of another. Now, as the Gospel 
flatters no?ie of his corruptions in a)iy shape, it meets with 
deadly hostility from, all his corruptions in every shape. It 
is to no purpose that you press upon him the " great salva- 
tion" — that you demonstrate his errors and their corrective, 
his diseases and their cure. Demonstrate you may, but you 
convert him not. He will occasionally startle and listen, 
but it is only to relapse into his wonted supineness ; and you 
shall as soon call up the dead from their dust, as awaken 
him to a sense of his danger, and prevail with him to em- 
brace the salvation of God. " Where then," you will de- 
mand, "is the preeminence of your Gospel?" I answer, 
with the apostle Paul, that " it is the j^ower of God to sal- 
■vationy When a sinner is to be converted, that is, when 
a slave is to be liberated from his chains, and a rebel from 
execution, that same voice which has spoken in the Scrip- 
tures, speaks by them to his heart, and commands an audi 
ence. He finds the word of God to be " quick and power 
ful, and sharper than any two-edged sword." It sets him 
before the bar of Justice ; strips him of his self-importance ; 



GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. ]7 

'sweeps away his refuge of lies, and shows him that death 
which is " the wages of sin." It then conducts him, all 
trembling, to the divine forgiveness ; reveals Christ Jesus 
in his soul, as his righteousness, his peace, his hope of glory. 
Amazing transition. But is not the cause equal to the 
effect ? " Hath not the potter power over the clay ?" Shall 
God draw, and the lame not run ? Shall God speak, and 
the deaf not hear ? Shall God breathe, and the slain not 
live? Shall God "lift up the light of his countenance" 
upon sinners reconciled in his dear Son, and they not be 
happy ? Glory to his name. These are no fictions. " We 
speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen." 
The record, written not with ink, but wdth the Spirit of the 
living God ; not in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of 
the heart, is possessed by thousands who have been turned 
" from the power of Satan unto God,'^ and will certify that 
the revolution was accomplished by his word. And if it 
perform such prodigies on corruption and death, what shall 
it not perform in directing, establishing, and consoling them 
w4io have already obtained a good hope through grace ? 
He who thunders in the curse, speaks peace in the promise ; 
and none can conceive its influence but they who have ^vit- 
nessed it. For proofs you must not go to the statesman, the 
traveller, or the historian. You must not go to the gay 
profession, or the splendid ceremonial. You must go to the 
chamber of unostentatious piety. You must go to the fam- 
ily anecdote, to the Christian tradition, to the observation of 
faithful ministers. Of the last there are many who, with 
hteral truth, might address you as follows. " I have seen 
this gospel hush into a calm the tempest raised in the bosom 
by conscious guilt. I Jiave seen it melt down the most ob- 
durate into tenderness and contrition. I have seen it cheer 
up the broken-hearted, and bring the tear of gladness into 
eyes swollen with grief I Juive seen it produce and main- 
tain serenity under evils which drive the worldling mad. 
VOL. XII. 25* 



18 GOSl'EL FOR THE POOR. 

I liave seen it reconcile the sufierer to his cross, and send the 
song of praise from Ups quivering with agony. I have see7i 
it enable the most affectionate relatives to part in death, 
not without emotion, but without repining; and with a 
cordial surrender of all that they held most dear to the dis- 
posal of their heavenly Father. I have seen the fading eye 
brighten at the promise of Jesus, ' Where I am, there shall 
my servant be also.' I have seen the faithful spirit released 
from its clay, now mildly, now triumphantly, to enter into 
the joy of its Lord." 

Who, among the children of men, that doubts this rep- 
resentation, would not ivish it to be correct ? Who, that 
thinks it only iwohable, will not welcome the doctrine on 
which it is founded, as " worthy of all acceptation?" And 
who, that knows it to be true, will not set his seal to that 
doctrine as being, most emphatically, gospel preached to 
THE poor ? 

In applying to practical purposes the account which has 
now been given of the Christian religion, I remark, 

1. That it fixes a criterion of Christian "ininistrations. 

If He, who " siiake as never man spake'' has declared 
his own doctrine to abound with consolation to the misera- 
ble, then, certainly, the instructions of others are evangelical 
only in proportion as they subserve the same gracious end. 
A contradiction, not unfrequent among some advocates of 
revelation, is to urge against the infidel its power of comfort, 
and yet to avoid, in their own discourses, almost every prin- 
ciple from which that power is drawn. Disregarding the 
mass of mankind, to whom the Gospel is peculiarly fitted, 
and omitting those truths which might revive the grieved 
spirit, or touch the slumbering conscience, they discuss their 
moral topics in a manner unintelligible to the illiterate, un- 
interesting to the mourner, and without alarm to the pro- 
fane. This is not " preaching Christ." Elegant disserta- 



GOril'EL FOR TlIK POOR. 19 

' tions upon, virtue and vice, upon the evidences of revelation, 
or any other general subject, may entertain the prosperous 
and the gay, but they w^ill not mortify our members which 
are upon the earth ; they will not unsting calamity, nor feed 
the heart with an imperishable hope. "When I go to the 
house of God, I do not want amusement. I want the doc- 
trine which is according to godliness. I want to hear of the 
remedy against the harassings of my guilt, and the disorder 
of my affections. I want to be led from weariness and dis- 
appointment to that goodness which filleth the hungry soul. 
I want to have light upon the mystery of providence ; to be 
taught how the judgments of the Lord are right — how I 
shall be prepared for duty and for trial — how I may pass 
the time of my sojourning here in fear, and close it in peace. 
Tell me of that Lord Jesus, who his own self bare our sins 
in his own body on the tree. Tell me of his intercession 
for the transgressors as their advocate with the Father. Tell 
me of his Holy Spirit, whom they that believe on him re- 
ceive, to be their preserver, sanctifier, comforter. Tell me 
of his chastenings ; their necessity, and their use. Tell me 
of his presence, and sympathy, and love. Tell m.e of the 
virtues, as growing out of his cross, and nurtured by, his 
grace. Tell me of the glory reflected on his name by the 
obedience of faith. Tell me of vanquished death, of the 
purified grave, of a blessed resurrection, of the life everlast- 
ing — and my bosom warms. This is gospel ; these are glad 
tidings to me as a sufferer, because glad to me as a sinner. 
They rectify my mistakes ; allay my resentments ; rebuke 
my discontent ; support me under the weight of moral and 
natural evil. These attract the poor, steal upon the thought- 
less, awe the irreverent, and throw over the service of the 
sanctuary a majesty, which some fashionable modes of ad- 
dress never fail to dissipate. Where they are habitually 
neglected, or lightly referred to, there may be much gran- 
deur, but there is no gospel ; and those preachers have infi- 



20 GO?>rEL FOR THE POOR. 

nite reason to tremble, who, though admired by the great, 
and caressed by the vain, are deserted by the poor, the sor- 
rowful, and such as walk humbly with their God. 

2. We should learn from the Gospel, lessons- of active 
benevolence. 

The Lord Jesus, who " went about doing good," has 
"left us an example that we should follow his steps." 
Christians, on whom he has bestowed affluence, rank, or 
talent, should be the last to disdain their fellow-men, or to 
look with indifierence on indigence and grief. Pride, un- 
seemly in all, is detestable in them, who confess that " by 
grace they are saved." Their Lord and Redeemer, who 
humbled himself by assuming their nature, came to " deliver 
the needy when he crieth, the poor also, and him that hath 
no helper." And surely an object which was not unworthy 
of the Son of God, cannot be unworthy of any who are 
called by liis name. Their wealth and opportunities, their 
talents and time, are not their own, nor to be used according 
to their own pleasure, but to be consecrated by their voca- 
tion as fellow-workers with God. How many hands that 
hang down would be lifted up ; how many feeble knees con- 
firmed ; how many tears wiped away ; how many victims 
of despondency and infamy rescued, by a close imitation of 
Jesus Christ. Go, with your opulence, to the house of 
famine, and the retreats of disease. Go, " deal thy bread 
to the hungry ; when thou seest the naked, cover him ; and 
hide not thyself from thine own flesh." Go, and furnish 
means to rear the offspring of the poor, that they may at 
least have access to the word of your God. Go, and quicken 
the flight of the angel, who has the everlasting Gospel to 
preach unto the nations. If you possess not wealth, employ 
your station in promoting good-will towards men. Judge 
the fatherless, plead for the widow. Stimulate the exer- 
tions of others, who may supply what is lacking on your 
part. Let the beauties of holiness pour their lustre upon 



GUcjrEL FOR THE TOUR. 21 

your distinctions, and recommend to the unhappy that peace 
which yourselves have found in the salvation of God. If 
you have neither riches nor rank, devote your talents. Rav- 
ishing are the accents which dwell on the tongue of the 
learned, when it speaks a word in season to him that is 
weary. Press your genius and your eloquence into the ser- 
vice of the Lord your righteousness, to magnify his word, 
and display the riches of his grace. Who knoweth whether 
he may honor you to be the minister of joy to the disconso- 
late, of liberty to the captive, of life to the dead ? If he 
has denied you Avealth, and rank, and talent, consecrate your 
heart. Let it dissolve in sympathy. There is nothing to 
hinder your rejoicing with them that do rejoice, and your 
weeping with them that weep ; nor to forbid the inter- 
change of kind and soothing offices. '' A brother is born 
for adversity;" and not only should Christian be to Chris- 
tian " a friend that sticketh closer than a brother," but he 
should exemplify the loveliness of his religion to them that 
are without. An action, a word, marked by the sweetness 
of the Gospel, has often been owned of God for producing 
the happiest effects. Let no man, therefore, try to excuse 
his inaction ; for no man is too inconsiderable to augment 
the triumphs of the Gospel, by assisting in the consolation 
which it yields to the miserable. 

3. Let all classes of the unhappy repair to the Christian 
truth, and draw ivater tcithjoy out of its ivells of salvation. 

Assume your own characters, ye children of men ; pre- 
sent your grievances, and accept the consolation which the 
Gospel tenders. Come, now, ye tribes of pleasure, who have 
exhausted your strength in pursuing phantoms that retire at 
your approach. The voice of the ^Son of God in the Gospel 
is, " Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not 
bread, and your labor for that which satisfieth not ? hearken 
diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let 
your soul delight itself in fatness." Come, ye tribes of am- 



22 GOt^PEL FOR THE POOR. 

bition, who burn for the applause of your fellow-worms. 
The voice of the Son of God to you is, "The friendship of 
this world is enmity with God ;" but " if any serve me, him 
will my Father honor." Come, ye avaricious, who pant 
after the dust of the earth on the head of the poor. The 
voice of the Son of God is, "Wisdom is more precious than 
rabies ; and all the things thou canst desire are not to be 
compared unto her : but what shall it profit a man, if he 
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ?" Come, 
ye profane. The voice of the Son of God is, " Hearken 
unto me, ye stout-hearted, that are far from righteousness ; 
behold, I bring near my righteousness." Come, ye formal 
and self sufficient, who say that ye are rich, and increased 
with goods, and have need of nothing ; and know not that 
you are wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
naked. The voice of the Son of God is, "I counsel you to 
buy of me gold tried in the fire, that ye may be rich ; and 
white raiment, that ye may be clothed, and that the shame 
of your nakedness do not appear ; and anoint your eyes with 
eye-salve, that ye may see." Come ye who, being convinced 
of sin, fear lest the fierce anger of the Lord fall upon you. 
The voice of the Son of God is, " Him that cometh unto me 
I will in no wise cast out. I, even I, am he that blotteth 
out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not re- 
member thy sins." Come, ye disconsolate, whose souls are 
sad, because the Comforter is away. The voice of the Son 
of God is, " The Lord hath sent me to appoint unto them 
that mourn in Zion, beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for 
mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heavi- 
ness." Come, ye tempted, who are borne down with the 
violence of the law in your members, and of assaults from 
the evil one. The voice of the Son of God is, "I will be 
merciful to your unrighteousness ; and the God of peace 
shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly." Come, ye chil- 
dren of domestic woe, upon whom the Lord has made a 



GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 23 

.breach, by taking away your counsellors and support. The 
voice of the Son of God is, " Leave thy fatherless children 
with me ; 1 will preserve them alive ; and let thy widows 
trust in me." Come, ye from whom mysterious providence 
has swept away the acquisitions of long and reputable in- 
dustry. The voice of the Son of God is, "My son, if thou 
wilt receive my words," thou shalt have " a treasure in the 
heavens tliat faileth not ;" and mayest " take joyfully the 
spoiling of thy goods, knowing that thou hast in heaven a 
better and an enduring substance." Come, ye poor, who 
without property to lose, are grappling with distress, and 
exposed to w^ant. The Son of God, though the heir of aV 
things, had not where to lay his head ; and his voice to his 
poor is, " Be content with such things as ye have ; for I will 
never leave thee, nor forsake thee : thy bread shall be given 
thee, and thy water shall be sure." Come, ye reproached, 
who find " cruel mockings" a most bitter persecution. The 
voice of the Son of God is, " If ye be reproached for the 
name of Christ, hap^iy are ye ; for the Spirit of God and of 
glory resteth upon you." Come, in fine, ye dejected, whom 
the fear of death holds in bondage. The voice of the Son of 
God is, "I will ransom them from the power of the grave ; 
I will redeem them from death : death, I will be thy 
plagues ; grave, I will be thy destruction : repentance 
shall be hid from mine eyes." Blessed Jesus, thy loving 
kindness shall be my joy in the house of my pilgrimage; 
and I will praise thee while I have any being, for that gos- 
pel WHICH TIIOU IIAST PREACHED TO THE POOR. 



24 GOSPEL FOR THE POOR. 

CHRIST A REFUGE. 

Jesus, lover of my soul, 

Let me to thy bosom fly, 
While the billows near me roll, 

"While the tempest still is high ! 
Hide me, my Saviour, hide. 

Till the storm of life is past ; 
Safe into the haven guide ; 

receive my soul at last. 

Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on thee ; 
Leave, ah, leave me not alone, 

Still support and comfort me. 
All my trust on thee is stay'd ; 

All my help from thee I bring ; 
Cover my defenceless head 

With the shadow of thy wing. 

Thou, Christ, art all I want ; 

More than all in thee I find ; 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick, and lead the blind. 
Just and holy is thy name, 

1 am all unrighte&usness ; 
Vile and full of sin I am, 

Thou art full of truth and grace, cowper. 



]¥o, 507, 

THE 

MISSIM DISCIPLE. 



It was a dark and gloomy evening when the doors of 
an obscure house in Jerusalem were closed upon a little 
number of plain, illiterate men, who, with a few women 
connected with them, had assembled for prayer. And as 
they prayed, they wept at the prostration of all their earth- 
ly hopes. They were discouraged and disheartened, for 
their Lord was taken from them, and he whom they trusted 
to have redeemed Israel was by wicked hands crucified and 
slain. They were weakened also by defection. Their num- 
ber had always been small and feeble. The great, and the 
learned, and the rich, were never with them : Judas had 
apostatized ; Peter, though reclaimed, had once denied his 
Master, and they dared not rely upon him. And now, as 
they looked around the room upon each familiar face, they 
became more disheartened, for they missed another of their 
little number : " Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didymus, 
was not with them.''* How discouraging ! Could it be that 
Thomas had apostatized like Judas, or denied his Lord like 
Peter ? If not, what could have happened ? Wliat had 
prevented him from coming to the prayer-meeting ? 

Thomas had been a forward man, and if not as much so 
as Peter, yet more so than some others ; for once, when Jesus 
informed the disciples of the death of Lazarus, Thomas was 
the first to speak, and proposed to his fellows that they 
should go and die with him ; yet in this day of gloom, in 
this hour of severe trial, when men should have been prompt 
VOL. XII. 26 



2 THE MISSING DISCIPLE. 

if ever, Thomas was missing. But where was he ? Ah, 
where was he ? 

Could Thomas have been sick ? The sacred historian 
is silent on that point. Good men are as liable to sickness 
as others, and when really sick, men are excusable for ab- 
sence from any religious meeting whatever. But are there 
not some whose seats are vacant in the house of God on 
the Sabbath on the plea of ill health, who are at their busi- 
ness early on Monday morning, and continue it through the 
week ? this " Sunday sickness," how it sometimes thins 
the house of God ! And the prayer-meeting is affected 
by it. Indeed the excuses sometimes multiply against the 
prayer-meeting when the Sabbath services are attended. 

We repeat the question: Where was Thomas? Had 
some important worldly business detained him from meet- 
ing with his brethren on that occasio^ii ? Business is some- 
times pleaded in excuse for absence from religious meetings 
during the week, and we can readily imagine cases where 
the excuse is valid ; but it is not always, and probably not 
often. The great end of life is, to serve God and prepare 
for heaven. For this we were brought into the world, and for 
this we have been sustained hitherto, and we should take 
good heed that we suffer not worldly things to hinder, much 
less to exclude this great work of life. Thomas had a soul to 
be saved ; he had been a member of Christ's family for three 
years, as he travelled about the land, and was at this time 
a stranger in Jerusalem. We have no reason to believe 
that business prevented him from meeting with his brethren 
to pray. But whatever may have been his excuse, Thomas 
was the greatest loser by absenting himself from the prayer- 
meeting. For, 

1. Some of the most heavenly consolations were im- 
parted to those who were present. When the disciples 
went in and shut the doors, they were in deep sorrov/. 



THE MISSING DISCIPLE. 3 

The crucifixion, and all the awful scenes of Calvary were 
before them, and as they prayed, they lamented and wept. 
But in the midst of their gloom a heavenly form stands 
among them. It is their Saviour. They know his welcome 
face. They hear his well-known voice, as he says, *' Peace 
he unto you''' What a change came over their feelings. 
Their mourning was turned into joy. " Then were the dis- 
ciples glad when they saio the Lord.'' But Thomas lost all 
this. He was not at the prayer-meeting, and while his 
brethren were filled with joy, he as before was filled with 
sorrow. 

2. The absence of Thomas from the prayer-meeting led 
him to the crying sin of unbelief. When the disciples told 
him that they had seen the Lord, he would not believe it. 
He had evidently become hardened in unbelief. His fel- 
low-disciples were sincere men, and he must have known 
they would not tell him an untruth, and still he would not 
beheve them. His language was most unbelieving. " But 
he said unto them, Except I shall see in his hands the print 
of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, 
and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe." Had 
Thomas been at the prayer-meeting when the Lord c^me 
into the midst of his disciples, he would not have talked in 
this unbecoming manner. But he was away, and the con- 
sequence was, his heart was hardened in unbelief. 

3. Added to all the rest, the conduct of Thomas was 
an injury to the cause of religion. It was said of the dis 
ciples in another case, that the Jewish magistrates took 
knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. They 
remembered that these were the men whom they had found 
uniform in their attachment to their Master and his cause 
for the enemies of Christ always watch the conduct of pro- 
fessed Christians. What must have been their impressions 
to see Thomas absenting himself, while his brethren were 



4 THE MISSING DISCIPLE. 

assembled for prayer. Perhaps they did thus observe him, 
and were hardened in sin on his account. *'Ah/' they 
would exclaim, " here is one of these reformers occupying 
himself with the business or pleasures of the world, while 
his brethren are praying. This is a specimen of the new 
religion. It will soon die away." Thus is religion injured 
by those professed Christians who neglect the meeting for 
prayer. And perhaps religion is injured in another way. 
Some inquiring, yet trembling soul may be hindered. Such 
persons always look to professed disciples for examples ; 
and if these are remiss and careless, the result may be the 
loss of a soul. 

Header, are you a professor of the name of Christ? 
Have you enrolled yourself with his people ? And did you 
not covenant to avoid all sinful stumbling-blocks, and to 
walk with your brethren in unity and love, seeking the pros- 
perity and enlargement of the church of which you are a 
member ? And did you not do this voluntarily ? How 
then can you justify yourself in the neglect of any of those 
means which God has always blessed to the comfort and 
edification of his people ? The prayer-meeting stands prom- 
inent among the means which preserve the life and power 
of religion in the church. It is the spiritual thermometer, 
indicating the warmth or coldness of religion among a peo- 
ple. Let it no longer be neglected, especially by those 
who profess to love Christ ; and when he comes into the 
midst of his people, as he ever does when they assemble 
in his name, let none, like Thomas, be missing from the 
place, lest they fail of the blessing. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. SOS. 

GEORGE TAYLOR. 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



In the years 1820-21, Princeton, New Jersey, was bless- 
ed with a precious revival of religion. The work was still, 
solemn, and powerful. Among the subjects of it were some 
who became useful ministers of Christ. Others besides col- 
lege students felt its power. The distress of many before 
attaining settled peace of mind was pungent, and often con- 
tinued for days. There are pangs as well as joys in the new 
birth. He who believes the contrary, deceives himself. He 
who teaches the contrary, deceives others. The degree and 
duration of this anxious concern are determmed by Him, 
who doeth all things well, and " giveth not account of any 
of his matters." He knows what best suits each case. 

In the village at that time was an Englishman, whose 
name is above given. He was poor, feeble in mind and 
body, and much afflicted with rheumatism. He was honest, 
but very ignorant of divine things. He felt the powers of 
the world to come. He had a deep sense of his sinfulness, 
and awful apprehensions of the wrath of God. At *first 
his case was not distinguished from that of many others. 
But while others obtained relief, and were begotten to a 
lively hope, he sunk into deeper distress. His state of mind 
excited the affectionate interest of the pious around- him. 
He manifested a solemn attention to any thing that showed 
him his vileness. His sleep was short and disturbed. His 
burden of guilt was "avast oppressive load." His appetite 
almost left him, and like David, he "forgat to eat." " Hia 
bones waxed old through his roaring all the day long ; for 
day and night God's hand was heavy upon him. His mois- 
ture was turned into the drought of summer." He often 
feared that it was too late for him to repcHit and turn to 
God. Yet he could not give over seeking. 
VOL. XII. 2G* 



2 GEORGE TAYLOR. 

His chief difficulty was to conceive hoiv a just and holy- 
God could forgive sin, and particularly his sins. He saw 
that .the law was holy, just, and good, in its precept and 
penalty. But he could not see how such a God, with such 
a law, could consistently forgive such a sinner as' he was, or 
indeed any sinner. Many conversed with him, and tried to 
show him how God can be just, and yet justify the ungodly 
who believe in Christ. He also heard some excellent ser- 
mons on the work of Christ as a Redeemer. Still, all was 
dark. " How should man be just with God ?" was the per- 
plexing question. Such phrases as are commonly and very 
properly used to teach the nature of the offices of Christ in 
behalf of sinners, conveyed no idea to him. He knew not 
the language of Canaan. The effect of his distress was 
plainly perceptible in his face. The pious deeply commis- 
erated his state, and the more so because no one had been 
able to afford him any relief At last one explained to him 
some of the sacrifices under the law. He told him how a 
lamb was brought by a guilty man, and laid bound on the 
altar, and how he who had sinned laid his hands upon it, 
confessing his sin, and how its blood became the blood of 
atonement, and how he was thus set free from the guilt of 
breaking the ceremonial law. His friend then said, " Christ 
is our lamb," and, suiting the gestures to the words, repeated 
these lines of Watts' : 

^- My faith would lay her hand 

On that dear head of thine, 

While like a penitent I stand 

And there confess my sin." 

This was enough. To poor George it was life from the 
dead. The day-spring had visited his soul. He said, "I 
understand it now. All is plain. Christ is the lamb to 
take away our sins. Why did not some one tell me this 
before?" His friend said, "We have been telling you the 
same thing all along, but in different words. Did we not 
tell you that Christ is the way, the truth, and the life ; and 
that no man cometh unto the Father but by him ?" 



GEORGE TAYLOR. 3 

George Taylor was received into llie church of Prince- 
ton, August 10, 1821 ; and for a few years, till his death, 
led a devout, consistent life. He held fast his integrity, and 
is now, I trust, singing the song of Moses and the Lamb. 

This short narrative is not intended to illustrate the 
whole of that great change which must pass upon men in 
order to salvation. Nor is it given as a type of conversions. 
God deals variously with men. But it may teach some 
useful lessons. 

1. The use of learning is to make things plain. 

2. There is milk as well as meat in the word of God — 
milk for babes, and meat for strong men. Let each have 
his portion in due season. 

3. Whoever would come to Christ, must be taught of 
God. Jesus said, "No man can come unto me, except the 
Father, which hath sent me, draw him." Reader, if God 
is drawing you, now is your time. If he is calling you, rise 
and follow him. He will not alw^ays call. Left to yourself, 
you will never find the way to God. You must be led by 
the Spirit. Pray like David, " Take not thy Holy Spirit 
from me." 

4. God works when, how, and by what means he will. 
He offers salvation to the rich and the poor, to the learned 
and the rude. But how often are we reminded of those 
words of Christ, "I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven 
and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise 
and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes ; even so. 
Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." Let us thank 
God that he reveals these things to babes, to the weak-minded 
and ignorant who are willing to learn. "The entrance of 
thy word giveth light." " It maketh wise the simple." 

5. Let none despise the Gospel because it is preached to 
the poor, nor because the child and the simple can under- 
stand enough of it to be saved. Pride is as damning as 
murder, and pride of intellect is as ruinous as pride of per- 
son, family, or estate. "The wicked, through the pride of 
his countenance, will not seek after God." "God resisteth 
the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." "The proud, 



4 GEORGE TAYLOR. 

and all that do wickedly, sliall be burned up." You must 
humble yourself as a little child, if you would be saved. 

6." It is always safe to tell of Christ and his love, of his 
death and his grace. This theme has awakened thousands, 
and brought millions to salvation. 

7. How transforming is the doctrine of the cross, when- 
ever understood and received. It is life and it is spirit. 
It cheers, it purifies, it puts men to praying, it makes them 
zealous of good works. Such were its effects on George 
Taylor, as many saw ; on the Greenlanders, as the Mora- 
vians testify ; oij the Indians of New Jersey, as Brainerd 
declares; on the people of Kilmany, as Chalmers states. 
The cross at once subdues and wins. "God forbid that I 
should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

8. And now, dying mortal, you too are a sinner, and you 
too need a Saviour no less than poor Taylor. Unless you 
are brought to strive to enter in at the strait gate, you will 
never be saved. Unless you are brought to loathe and ab- 
hor yourself, you must perish. You must find the Lamb of 
God, by whose blood alone your guilt can be washed away. 
"He that believeth not, shall be damned." It is said of a 
poor Greenlander, that the first time he heard the love and 
death of Christ explained, he said, "If this Saviour died for 
me, he shall be my Saviour." If you will rest all your 
weight upon the precious blood of Christ, your soul shall 
be saved, your sins shall be blotted out, and heaven shall 
be yours. 

O repent and believe ; for why will you die ? 
Since God in great mercy is coming so nigh — 
Since Jesus invites you, the Spirit says, Come, 
And angels are waiting to welcome you home. 

If you die in your sins, many will rise in the judgment 
and condemn you. If you now receive Christ, you will be 
safe for eternity. Will you not receive him ? Will you 
not receive him 7ioiv ? The Bible presents no alternative 

but NOW or NEVER. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 509. 

THE LOST SON. 



I WAS standing by the side of my mother, under the spa- 
cious porch of Dr. Beatty's church, Union-street, Glasgow, 
awaiting the hour for afternoon service. A holy calm hung 
over the city ; no discordant noise broke the solemn stillness 
of the day of rest and worship ; scarcely a whisper was heard 
in the assembly of waiting worshippers who crowded the 
broad pavement on which I stood. All seemed profoundly 
impressed with the solemn and sacred character of the day, 
the place, and the occasion which had called them together. 
It was, in short, a Sabbath in the land of Knox and Chal- 
mers. I had been in this position probably ten or fifteen 
minutes, when I observed two young men turn a corner and 
walk towards the church. They were dressed in their work- 
ing clothes, unshaven and dirty, and slightly intoxicated. As 
they passed the church door they assumed a swaggering, 
irreverent gait, laughed, and finally commenced singing a 
profane song. Some of the bystanders expressed their hor- 
ror at the occurrence, others wondered what had become of 
the police ; but my mother turned to me, and said, " Follow 
these two men, and invite them to a seat in our pew." 

I soon overtook them and delivered my mother's message. 
One laughed scornfully and began to swear ; the other paused 
and pondered, and Avas evidently struck with the nature of 
the invitation. His companion again swore, and was about 
to drag him away. But he still paused. I repeated the invi- 
tation, and in a few seconds he looked in my face and said, 
" When I was a boy like you, I went to church every Sun- 
day. I have not been inside of a church for three years. / 
don't feel Hglit. I believe I will go with you." I seized his 
hand and led him back to the house of God, in spite of the 
remonstrances and oaths of his companion. The doors were 
now open, and the church was filling rapidly ; we entered, 
and I conducted him to the pew where my mother was 
already seated. A most excellent sermon was preached from 
Eccles. 11:1: " Cast thy bread upon the waters ; for thou 



2 THE LOST SON. 

shalt find it after many days." The young man was atten- 
tive, but seemed abashed and downcast. 

•At the conclusion of the service he hastened out of the 
church, but he was closely followed, and soon overtaken by 
my mother, who kindly said to him, " Have you a Bible, 
young man?" "No, ma'am ; but I can get one," was his 
reply. " Well, take my son's Bible until you procure one of 
your own. Read it attentively during the week, and come 
to meeting again next Lord's day. I will always be happy 
to accommodate you with a seat." 

He put the Bible in his pocket and hurried away. At 
family worship that evening my mother prayed fervently for 
the conversion of that young man. 

Next Sunday came, and the next, but the stranger did 
not appear. My mother frequently spoke of him, and ap- 
peared grieved at his absence. He had doubtless been the 
subject of her closet devotions. On the third Sabbath morn- 
ing, while the congregation were singing the first psalm, the 
young man again entered our pew. He was now dressed 
genteelly, and appeared thin and pale, as if from recent sick- 
ness. My mother looked at him with great earnestness, and 
a gleam of satisfaction and thankfulness overspread her pale 
iatellectual features. Immediately after the benediction, 
the stranger laid down my Bible, and left the house with- 
out giving my mother an opportunity she much desired, of 
conversing with him. On one of the blank leaves of the Bible 
we found some writing in pencil, signed " W. 0." The writer 
stated that he had been confined to his room by sickness for 
the previous two weeks. He declared his inability to express 
his gratitude to my mother, for the interest she had mani- 
fested in his spiritual welfare : he asked to be remembered in 
her prayers, and concluded by stating that he was an English- 
man, and would return to his native land in about ten days. 

Years rolled on ; my mother passed to her heavenly rest ; 
I grew up to manhood, and the stranger was forgotten. 

In the autumn of 18 — the ship St. George, of w^hich I 
was the medical officer, anchored in Table Bay. Between 
us and Penguin Island, I observed a man-of-war which I had 



THE LOST PON. 3 

seen before and knew well ; it was her majesty's brig Chan- 
ticleer often gims, Commander Forbes, on a surveying expe- 
dition. The surgeon of the brig, Dr. F , had been my 

preceptor, and I resolved to pay him a visit. After dining 
with the gun-room officers, he proposed that on the following 
day, which was the Sabbath, we should attend meeting in 
Capetown. " It will remind us," he said, " of old times, 
when we used to go arm in arm to church in Union-street." 

Next day, in company with my friend, I attended morn- 
ing service at the Wesley an chapel. At the conclusion of 
worship, a gentleman seated behind me asked to look at my 
Bible. In a few minutes he returned it, and I Avalked into the 
street. I was mounting the steps in front of the hotel where 
I was to dine, when the same gentleman laid his hand on my 
shoulder, and begged to have a few minutes' conversation. 
VYe were shown into a private apartment. As soon as we 
were seated, he examined my countenance with great atten- 
tion and then began to sob ; tears rolled down his cheeks ; 
he was evidently laboring under intense emotion. He ap- 
peared to be about thirty-five years of age, M^as tall and slen- 
der, and neatly dressed, but apparently in bad health. He 
asked me several questions — my name, age, occupation, and 
birthplace. He then inquired if I had not, when a boy, many 
years ago, invited a drunken Sabbath-breaker to a seat "in 
Dr. Beatty's church. I was astonished — the subject of my 
mother's anxiety and prayers was before me. Mutual ex- 
planations and congratulations followed, after which Mr. C 
gave me a short history of his life, from the time he left 
Scotland to the day on which we met so unexpectedly in a 
foreign land. 

He was born in the town of Leeds, in the east-riding of 
Yorkshire, of highly respectable and religious parents, who 
gave him a good education, and trained him up in the way 
of righteousness. When about fifteen his father died, and his 
mother's straitened circumstances obliged her to take him 
from school, and put him to learn a trade, where he imbibed 
all manner of evil, became incorrigibly vicious, and broke his 
mother's heart. Freed now from all parental restraint, he 



4 THE LOST SON. 

left his employers and travelled to Scotland. In the city of 
Glasgow he had lived and sinned for two years, when he was 
arrested in his career through my mother's instrumentality. 
He confessed that, on leaving the church, on the first Sah- 
bath, he was seized with pangs of unutterable remorse. The 
sight of a mother and her son worshipping God together, 
recalled the happy days of his own boyhood, when he went 
to church and Sunday-school, and when he also had a moth- 
er — a mother whose latter days he had imbittered, and whose 
gray hairs he had brought with sorrow to the grave. His 
mental suffering threw him on a bed of sickness, from which 
he arose a changed man. He returned to England, cast him- 
self at the feet of his maternal uncle, and asked and obtained 
forgiveness. His conviction of sin — his battlings with temp- 
tation — his repentance — his victory over the world — the 
growth of his faith in the great atonement — and, finally, his 
peace in believing, formed a deeply interesting and instruc- 
tive narrative. With his uncle's consent he studied for the 
ministry ; and on being ordained, he entered the missionary 
field, and had been laboring for several years in Southern 
Africa. 

" The moment I saw your Bible this morning," he said, 
" I recognized it, and the examination of the writing, which 
is still legible on the blank leaf, assured me that I was not 
mistaken. You now see from what I was rescued by the 
unfathomable love and boundless grace of God, through 
your own and your mother's instrumentality. I was dragged 
from the very brink of infamy and destruction, and saved as 
a brand from the burning. You remember Dr. Beatty's 
text on the day of my salvation : 'Cast thy bread upon the 
waters ; for thou shalt find it after many days.' The proud, 
hardened, scoffing sinner is found, after thirteen years, a 
humble minister of salvation to the benighted heathen ; and 
your sainted mother is doubtless enjoying the reward of 
those who turn many to righteousness — shining as the stars 
for ever and ever." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 510. 

MRS. HENRY VENN. 

BY THE LATE REV. HENRY VENN, 

AUTHOR OF THE COMPLETE DUTY OF MAN. 



The blessed God, whose every act calls for adoration 
from the children of men, saw fit to deprive you, my dear 
children, of the best of mothers, and me of the best of wives, 
long before you could be sensible of your loss. Uncertain 
whether I shall live to propose her to your imitation, I take 
this method of giving you some idea of her mind and life ; 
and should I soon go to my God, I beg each of my beloved 
children to keep a copy of these papers, and read it with 
attention. May the God of your father and of your mother 
make the reading of it useful aiid pleasing to you. 

Pleasing and profitable to myself it will be, thus mi- 
nutely to survey the precious gift I received from God 
when your dear mother was married to me, and the comfort 
I experienced the short ten years it pleased him that sacred 
union should last. 

Your mother's maiden name was Bishop ; but in tliese 
papers I shall call her Mira. She was descended from an 
ancient family in Lincolnshire, of which Sir Cecil Bishop is 
now the head. Her father was of Sidney College, Cam- 
bridge ; a Doctor in Divinity, much celebrated for his public 
exercise in the university when he took his doctor's degree, 
and very eminent for the extent of his learning and great 
abilities. Her mother's name was Fowler, a lady of a good 
family and fortune, near Stowmarket, in Suffolk. The place 
where her parents lived, and where Mira was born in the 
year 1724, was Ipswich. 

Probably my dear children will wonder at the mention 
of Mira's descent and family ; since it has been my constant 
aim, and daily prayer to God, that you may always feel that 

VOL. XTI. 27 



2 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

the poorest parish girl who loves the Lord Jesus is a right 
honorable person, whilst the son of a king, who neglects 
him, is of a base spirit, and in the meanest condition. My 
only reason for taking notice of these particulars is to display 
more the power of God's grace, which conquered in Mira's 
heart that stubborn yet absurd pride which arises from being, 
in the language of the world, well-born. 

The fortune of her parents, together with the church 
preferment which Dr. Bishop long held, was very sufficient 
to have secured an ample provision for his family, large as 
it was ; but yet they were left at his death destitute. This 
event happened just when Mira was beginning to bloom in 
beauty, and to receive hourly admiration upon that account. 
But very soon must this charming flower lose its lovely ap- 
pearance ; for the Lord was pleased to visit her with the 
smallpox of so malignant a sort as to change in some de- 
gree the features of her face, and to leave her, compared 
with her former state, much altered for the worse. 

Upon due consideration of the circumstances of her fam- 
ily, Mira, when near sixteen, desired some proper business 
might be found for her to engage in — a strong proof of good 
sense in vanquishing evil shame, which so often keeps young 
ladies idle and even burdensome at home, rather than ap- 
pear in any lower station of life. Mira's desire in this mat- 
ter was refused, Mrs. Bishop not choosing to part with her. 
The same wisdom and prudence, therefore, which prompted 
her to seek employment abroad, excited her now to improve 
herself at home. She began immediately to learn all sorts 
of domestic business, and determined to be ignorant of noth- 
ing which should be known or done in order to the good 
management of a family. Not content to excel in all needle- 
work, she learned to be expert in every kind of contrivance 
and ingenuity which can be wanted in a housewife. The 
quality and price of every article consumed by a family she 
took care thoroughly to understand, so as not to be obliged 
to trust either to the honesty of tradesmen or servants. Her 
skill in these Instances soon grew to be conspicuous, and gave 



MRS. HENRY VENN. 3 

' her a superiority over many of her sex. Indeed, in so high 
a degree was she mistress of these female accomplishments, 
that with a small income, a large family, visited by much 
company, and with few servants, neatness and cleanliness, 
order, plenty, and yet frugality, were visible, through the 
whole economy of the house, to every eye. 

But whilst Mira was most serviceable to her dear mother 
and brother by her housewifery, neither her person nor un- 
derstanding were neglected ; the utmost neatness ever adorn- 
ed the one, whilst a careful reading of several celebrated 
writers improved and enlarged the other. 

The close of Mrs. Bishop's life it pleased God should 
be very afflictive, not only from a view of her large family 
without any provision, but from a bad state of health, till 
an uncommon disorder brought her to the grave. This was 
a swelling in her throat, which gradually increased till she 
was unable to swallow any sustenance, and she was literally 
starved to death. During the whole of this melancholy 
scene, Mira's filial piety shone out with a beauteous lustre. 
She devoted herself entirely to wait upon her mother, which 
she did so closely as evidently to injure her own health. 

Mrs. Bishop being now deceased, and her brother mar- 
ried, Mira passed three or four years amongst het friends, 
sometimes in one family, sometimes in another ; always 
welcome, because always cheerful, good-natured, and sure 
to be of use wherever she was. At this time, as well as 
before, offers were made to her; two particularly, which, 
in the language of the world, were great ones. Had love 
of show or money governed her mind, these offers would 
not have been refused. But Mira was fixed never to give 
her hand to one who was not, as she judged, of a mind con- 
genial with her own, from whom she should not expect 
improvement with delight ; persuaded that unless there was 
in a husband a fund of good sense and knowledge to fur- 
nish rational conversation, the marriage union must prove 
insipid, and the wife be little more than a nurse for the 
children. 



4 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

It was owing solely to this rare, yet judicious way of 
thinking, with firmness, that Mira, though pleasing in her 
figure, full of life and good-humor, of excellent understand- 
ing, remarkable ingenuity, and perfectly accomplished for 
that middle rank of life in which she was born, refused every 
offer till the twenty-ninth year of her age, and then was 
engaged to your father. 

Previous to this engagement she had acted a noble part. 
A sister of hers, some years younger, was set up in business 
in London — open-hearted, inexperienced, unsuspecting, living 
in the same lodgings with two young ladies as little acquaint- 
ed with the world as herself. The dangers of this situation 
Mira immediately perceived, and from affection, determined, 
by living with her sister, to give her the advantage of her 
prudence, experience, and counsel. The mortification she 
must meet with in this change, quite new to her, was fore- 
seen. No one naturally would more keenly feel the ill-usage 
of every peevish customer, or the being treated with contempt 
as an inferior. Though this grated upon her mind, and hurt 
her pride, she saw it the path of duty, and determined to 
bear it. A violence to her own will tliis, which it required 
no small degree of fortitude to ofier. 

It was in this situation your father first became acquaint- 
ed with Mira. Had either of us been of a worldly spirit, 
we might easily have settled to more advantage, and been 
rich. But we found in each other, what was to us more 
than wealth, a perfect similarity of sentiment on subjects- 
of highest moment, which continued here till her removal 
to glory, and will endure to all eternity in heaven. 

It will be proper to inform my dear girls in what man- 
ner Mira was first led to be serious, and in earnest about 
the salvation of her soul. In early life she knew nothing 
of true religion, nor amongst her acquaintance had ever seen 
a single instance of its glorious power. Barren orthodoxy, 
full of bitter wrath against all dissenters from the Church 
of England, was the religion in which she was brought up ; 
whilst the very same short form of prayer in secret, morning 



MRS. HENRY VENxV. 5 

. and evening, and a customary attendance every Sunday on 
public worship, was accounted devotion sufficient to make a 
good Christian. A general assent to the Bible, as a revela- 
tion of God, in opposition to deism, was deemed faith in 
Christ; and instead of joy in God, from having received 
the atonement, the religion she always heard expressed from 
the pulpit, was a labor to enter into life, by keeping the com- 
mandments, and doing our duty. 

With this sort of religion, it is true, Mira could never be 
satisfied. Several passages in the Bible, which she casually 
looked into, puzzled her much : particularly that, "T-he law 
was given by Moses ; but grace and truth came by Jesus 
Christ." She asked a clergyman to explain in what respects 
Jesus was so superior to Moses, but received no information. 
She was often also deep in thought, endeavoring to find out 
what real advantages Christians now receive from the Lord 
Jesus, who, she was taught to confess, was God, and died 
for men. Unable to make this discovery, she used to wish 
she had seen our Lord work his miracles, and bless the mul- 
titudes around him. Those numerous passages, also, which 
speak of the blessings of the poor and needy, and the prom- 
ises made to them, as she knew not that they described the 
spiritual poverty of all real believers, were too hard for her 
to understand, since she could not conceive that the faver of 
God was confined to any outward state or condition. 

After many passing thoughts of this kind, the first last- 
ing impression was made by the following incident. Her 
mother bid her, when of age, to receive the sacrament, and 
prepare for it against the approaching festival. Accordingly 
Mira began to do it; she very diligently followed all the 
rules laid down in a book called "The Week's Preparation 
for the Lord's Supper." By reading, prayer, and meditation, 
her mind was much affected with a great dread of the 
sacrament, as a tremendous ordinance, and with the danger 
of being an unworthy receiver of it ; her waking thoughts 
did not leave her in the night season, but presented them- 
selves to her mind under the following dream. She was 
VOL. xu. 27* 



6 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

walking-, she dreamed, upon a long, high terrace, when sud- 
denly a flood of waters poured in on every side, from which 
there- seemed to be no way of escape. When the waters 
Avere just ready to overwhelm her, she saw something float- 
ing towards her on the surface ; and as it was approaching, 
thought she heard a voice say, " That is the body of Jesus ; 
if you can touch it, the waters will not drown you." She 
immediately stretched out her hand to do so, when the same 
voice again said, "It is the body of Jesus, but not for you," 
and instantly it vanished. Mira awaked in a loud scream, 
from the horror of her mind ; but not daring to mention what 
had happened, she received the sacrament the Sunday fol- 
lowing in extreme anguish ; for this hideous dream she in- 
terpreted into a portentous sign of her own rejection by Christ 
at the last day : though the whole was evidently no more 
than the effect of a very solemn concern to be duly prepared 
to eat of the symbols of the crucified body of our Lord. Not- 
withstanding, she suffered very much from this dream : so 
strong was its impression, that at the distance of many years 
it would sometimes bring a transient gloom upon her mind. 
It had, however, certainly one good effect — it made her think 
much more of eternity. 

Upon the things of eternity our conversation turned from 
our first acquaintance. Much concerned we both were to 
gain heaven, though very ignorant of the way. We began 
our engagement as two pilgrims, seeking a better country ; 
and as we travelled on, were favored with more light, di- 
recting our steps to the city in which- we were to dwell safely, 
even the Lord Jesus Christ. 

As soon as my connection with Mira was known, she was 
introduced to all my particular friends — friends cemented to 
me by that dearest of all bonds, love to Jesus and his members. 
And now she began to enjoy what was a perfect novelty to 
her, intimacy with persons born of God. She saw that relig- 
ion in them, instead of being a task, was their joy; that, in- 
stead of being worn on a Sunday, or confined to the closet, it 
was the constant enlivening subject of discourse each day. She 



iMRS. HKNRV VENN. 7 

heard them with the freedom of sons and daughters speak 
of their heavenly Father's heart towards them, of their privi- 
leges, of their present happiness, their glorious hope, and 
the blessed exchange of the baubles of sense and time for 
the unsearchable riches of Christ. 

The great regard which Mira met with amongst the 
excellent of the earth, often pained her heart, from a con- 
sciousness of deserving a contrary treatment. The husband 
of one of these friends, in order to facilitate our union, made 
me a present of a very considerable sum, insisting particu- 
larly that I should remember this was not so much to my- 
self, as an expression of the love which he, and his dear lady 
just then gone to heaven, had for Mira, from their first know- 
ledge of her. 

As soon as we were married we lived at Clapham, in 
Surrey, a favorite village, where many London merchants 
choose their country-seats, designhig in general only to enjoy 
themselves. To such, the doctrine of the Gospel, preached 
with zeal and boldness, was very offensive. Of this there 
was soon proof sufficient. But though the husband was so 
zealous, it was thought that Mira, from her vivacity, could 
be no more pleased with such doctrine than themselves. One 
of the ladies who visited Mira was determined to try if it 
were not so, and whether the wife could not be prevaileyd on 
to repress the annoying earnestness of her husband. The 
lady began with observing, that all the gentlemen believed 
that I was a very good man, and very ingenious ; that it was 
only to be wished I would not carry matters to such lengths, 
nor be so alarming in the application of my doctrine. To 
this Mira returned, that I believed all I said, and was under 
the necessity of speaking as the oracles of God spake. The 
lady then urged her to consider her own case — the prospect 
of a large family without a provision, and need of many 
friends ; and that this way of preaching was not the way to 
procure them. " One Friend," replied Mira, " I am sure it 
is ; for the Master Mr. Venn serves is too great and too good 
ever to see him, or his, real losers for faithfulness in his own 



8 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

service." She here spoke under the influence of that faith 
and hope in God vi^hich were soon to be put to a very severe 
trial. . For in the following year, grieved at the obstinate 
rejection of the Gospel, during five years, by the rich almost 
to a man — and there were but few poor in the' place — I 
accepted an offer unexpectedly made me by my very affec- 
tionate friend the earl of Dartmouth. By this change of 
situation our income was reduced more than one half How- 
ever, believing, upon what I thought good grounds, several 
things to be true which were misrepresented, and supposing 
the small income in so cheap a country would be sufficient 
to live upon, I determined to remove to Huddersfield. Ac- 
cordingly we left my native place, and many cordial friends, 
to fix, near two hundred miles distance, amongst strangers. 
In this new situation there was indeed the noblest field 
for a minister of Christ ; people from all the neighborhood 
coming in crowds to hear. And the power of the Lord was 
present, and his word was glorified. More than full exercise 
I had for all my strength, and full employment for all my 
time. What can be conceived more honorable, what more 
delightful, than such a life as this ? "What a desperately 
wicked heart must that be, which was not exceedingly thank- 
ful for such an eligible post. But I would remember to my 
dying hour, with deep humiliation, my provocation before 
the Lord. Though he deigned to make use of me in gath- 
ering a church, though more success was given to my labors 
than is usually found where the Gospel is preached, I was 
still sadly discontented. I saw myself, with an increasing 
family, reduced to what I had never known before — depend- 
ence upon the kindness of friends. I saw I had given up a 
certain sufficient income, and a situation where, if difficulties 
arose, many friends would be glad to relieve me in them, for 
one in which there were none able, however willing ; a sit- 
uation, where the assistance I should receive would be con- 
strued into a mercenary motive for my preaching the Gos- 
pel. I feared also, that distance and absence might cool the 
love of those friends towards me, whose kindness was now 



MRS. HENRY VENN. 9 

become so necessary to make up the scantiness of my in- 
come. 

In these views, unbelief, pride, and selfishness conquered 
me entirely. I was grieved at my own vileness, and self- 
condemned. I lamented and strove in prayer, day and night, 
against my corruptions ; but they bore me away as a torrent, 
and overwhelmed my soul. So that whilst there was yet 
time, before the resignation of my lectureships in London, I 
determined to return thither. Mira, who had much more 
cause on various accounts to be displeased, and more reasons 
eagerly to desire a return, full of faith, still dissuaded me 
from this step. She observed, that it was evidently the act 
of God to fix me here ; therefore those circumstances were 
concealed, which otherwise would have infallibly prevented 
ray coming here — that he was working by me ; consequently 
at this time I could by no means, with a good conscience, 
leave the people to whom I was sent of God to preach the 
Gospel. By her persuasions, and by them alone, was I with- 
held from my purpose of returning into the south ; though 
for more than a year after I yielded to them, the same unbe- 
lief and selfishness miserably tormented and deeply defiled 
my soul. Sovereign, all- conquering grace at last made me 
willing to walk by faith, and not by sight ; to trust God for 
a provision ; and be content to be beholden to the kindness 
of friends, w^ho loved me for my work's sake. 

This very strong act of faith in Mira did not go without its 
gracious reward. It was soon followed by an opening of the 
mysteries of the kingdom, and a revelation of the glory of 
Christ. Hitherto his love had been perceived by her in great 
obscurity. For notwithstanding the pain, torment, and blood 
it cost him to redeem the church, the immortal interests ol 
real believers in him she still thought were left unsecured. 
To her view, the company of the faithful appeared only as an 
army with banners in the field of battle, not as garrisoned in 
a strong city, having salvation for walls and for bulwarks. 
Led on indeed it was by One almighty to save, but yet no 
one individual of his followers could be sure of coming off 



10 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

conqueror. According to Mira's principles, before this period, 
certainty of obtaining eternal glory there was none, not even 
for those whom God had actually justified. In short, huU, 
ifs, and qualifications, made the final issue as absolutely 
dubious as if Christ had never finished the work the Father 
gave him to do. Her eye was therefore of necessity turned 
from the person, work, and love of the almighty Saviour, to 
her own labors, attainments, and marks of grace. Never 
was there a more sincere, and of consequence a more per- 
plexed mind than Mira's, while she continued in this plan 
of doctrine. Scarcely possible is it to tell the deep sighs she 
fetched, the tears she shed, the desponding thoughts she felt 
in her heart, for near seven years. 

Full sanctification, by which she meant a deliverance 
from the rising so much as of one sinful thought, she ago- 
nized to obtain, that from thence she might conclude she was 
a child of Grod, and one meet for glory. But, alas, she found 
herself still evil. And the stirring of corruptions, instead of 
humbling her in her own eyes, and endearing the more the 
Saviour's name, only tormented her with fear, because her 
all was at stake ; and from the feeling of mdwelling sin 
the more she strove against it, she concluded all must be 
lost. In a word, she labored in the fire for that which was 
not bread, and spent her strength for that which could not 
satisfy. 

But when her understanding was enlightened to perceive 
the motive and the end of the law, and the grand diflerence 
between the covenant of works and of redemption, those 
Scriptures which by the Holy Ghost are emphatically called 
strong meat, were made food indeed to her soul. She saw 
the union between the Head of the church, on his eternal 
throne, and every member of his body on earth ; their accept- 
ance before God in him, and their completeness in his right- 
eousness. She understood and believed those Scriptures 
which maintain the impossibility of any one of the sheep of 
Christ perishing, from the promise and oath of Jehovah 
standing engaged to preserve them unto the end. To her 



MRS. HENRY VENN. H 

weary spirit these truths were as the drops which water the 
earth. From henceforth she had but one thing to do — to 
serve, love, adore, and trust in her heavenly Husband, who 
took upon himself to keep her soul night and day, lest any 
should hurt it. Now she could eat her bread with gladness 
and singleness of heart, persuaded by the word and Spirit of 
God, that all her heart could wish was hid for her with 
Christ in God ; and enabled to comprehend with all saints 
what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height of 
the love of Christ : that very sanctification she longed for 
was obtained in a higher degree than ever, and her besetting 
sin was more successfully encountered, by her certainty of 
being in the end made victorious over it. 

In one letter she writes thus : 

"Whatever trouble or uneasiness I meet with, all seems 
to bring me nigher to the blessed Jesus ; as he humbles me 
by showing me my own evil heart, he discovers his love 
more bright and shining, boundless, and beyond all compre- 
hension. As he takes from me any outward blessing, or 
threatens to do so, he is pleased to grant me a lively sense 
of his all-sufficiency. He calls himself my friend, my father, 
my husband. 0, what may I not expect from such endear- 
ing relations I And is he not sufficient to fulfil them all ? 
I know he is. I can trust myself in his hands, and my att. 
I am yet hungering and thirsting, but how delightful is that 
hunger ; how pleasing is that thirst I I would gladly feel 
it till the time come that my spirit shall be satisfied with all 
the fulness of Christ, in the mansions where our joy shall 
last for evermore." ^ ^ 

Three years of conffict and victory through Christ passed 
swiftly, and the appointed time of her departure was at 
hand. At this season it was with her as often is the case 
with the children of God towards the conclusion of their 
life — they revive as the corn, which in a few days makes 
surprising shoots. Several friends remarked with what 
boldness and liberty more than usual .she spoke for Christ ; 
with what faithfulness she gave reproofs where needful; 



12 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

and how enlightened her ideas were of the salvation of God. 
They acknowledge the benefit they received from her, and 
reniember well the unction they felt in several of the last 
conversations they heard from her lips on the things of God. 

For several months before her departure, Mira was in a 
bad state of health. Yet one dreadful conflict more was she 
to sustain before her entrance into everlasting rest. Her 
disorder lay greatly upon her spirits. This was also aggra- 
vated by the assaults of her infernal enemy ; for he was 
suffered to pour in upon her soul most blasphemous sugges- 
tions against the truth of the Bible, and the very existence 
of God. To so great a height were these temptations per- 
mitted to rise, that in the night of the first Sunday in July, 
1767, though the tempestuous wind quite rocked the house, 
it did not even engage her attention, so terrible was the 
storm within. But in due time, God heard her prayer. 
Her tempted, harassed soul he set at liberty, and gave her a 
blessing of peace which never left her, till it was swallowed 
up — there is no room to question — in the joy of her Lord. 

On the 27th of August, the fever which was commis- 
sioned to carry her home, made its appearance ; and at the 
very same time, Mira told a beloved friend she had received 
a manifestation from God her Saviour, more glorious than 
any she had been favored with before. In giving to me 
the account of it, she said it was as clear and distinct an 
evidence of the love of God to her soul, as if she had heard 
the voice of the Lord, saying, " Thou art mine, and I am 
thine ; I have saved thee." During the first seven days, no 
danger was apprehended ; but on the 5th of September, 
some alarming symptoms appeared. The day following she 
said to me, " I am ready, I am willing to depart ; so clear a 
view have I of my Saviour." The day after this, she added, 
" Jesus is so sufficient, I would have nothing mix with him, 
nor do I want one single good work more." On Tuesday 
the 8th, when the fever raged, she laid her hand upon her 
dear friend's head, saymg, " that I could take you up with 
me to everlasting rest." 



MRS. HENRY VENX. 13 

' Upon another friend's asking her whether she could still 
bless God, she answered, smiling, " 0, now is the time for 
him to bless me ;" meaning, that her bodily disease bore 
down the activity of her mind, and rendered her entirely 
passive to receive the communications of his love. 

Two days before her departure, she desired we should 
not pray for her recover)', but for some mitigation of her 
f)ain, and for an easy passage to her Lord. This petition 
was granted ; for though her pain increased till she once 
said, " I think it is greater than I can bear," yet the last 
words she uttered were such as must break from a glorified 
spirit the first moment of its entrance into bliss: " the joy, 
the delight." After lying speechless a good while, she drew 
her breath twice very deep, and fell asleep in Jesus, Sep- 
tember 9, 1767. 

Thus I have given you, my dear children, a brief account 
of the life and death of Mira. 

Several excellences she possessed, of which in the pre- 
ceding relation there is most evident proof. But I will point 
them out more particularly in drawing up her character. 

Mira's natural temper was remarkably cheerful and 
sprightly ; her understanding strong and clear. An open, 
honest countenance was the mirror of her heart, which 
knew no disguise — which paid so sacred a regard to truth, 
that during the whole time I knew her, never could I per- 
ceive she once deviated from it. 

The bee itself was scarce more a stranger to idleness than 
Mira. Her hands or head were always employed in diligent 
application to some business or other. Even with a very 
infirm constitution, her industrious, active spirit was very 
conspicuous. Had her health been good, much more labor 
she would have gone through ; as it was, it is surprising 
how much she did, and with what dispatch, in various par- 
ticulars. As of old, when Dorcas was dead, it is recorded 
to her honor, that they brought forth the marks of her good 
employment of her time ; so when Mira departed, those 

VOL. XII. 28 



14 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

under her care could stand up as witnesses of her filling up 
all her hours with proper, useful employment. To this 
activity of spirit was joined an exemplary observation of the 
duties of her place and station. She was an affectionate 
wife, concerned for my happiness, and evidently more afflicted 
for the sufferings I was called to bear than for her own. As 
a counsellor, she was cool and prudent, endued with much 
foresight, and with penetration into the characters of men. 
As a companion, she was entertaining and new ; so that the 
more I was with her alone, the more I was sure to be 
pleased — to be thankful to God for her, and led to wish, if 
it were lawful, that we had fewer intimates, in order that I 
might enjoy conversation with her the more. As a mother, 
she was loving to all her children, without partiality, and 
without a foolish fondness, the cruel encourager of bad tem- 
pers. Every circumstance respecting their health and im- 
provement was attended to very carefully by her. As a 
friend, she was kind and full of alacrity to serve, often re- 
peating that Scripture, " He that will have friends, must 
show himself friendly." 

Her servants improved under her instructions, taught by 
her to do their business in the best manner, and at the fit- 
test time. Her qualifications they esteemed, and for her 
kindness they loved her ; in her sickness they waited on her 
with a tender assiduity, expressive of their unfeigned regard, 
and sincerely lamented her death. 

Money, that mighty enchantress, had no power to be- 
witch Mira. Though frugal, she was generous. Though 
our circumstances might have been used as a cloak for cov- 
etousness, she abhorred the thought of refusing to give to the 
poor members of Christ what was in her power. 

These excellences, though amiable and pleasing, still 
constituted only the lower part of Mira's character, for she 
was born of God. Jesus Christ was her all. Even the 
graces of the Spirit of God, whenever spoken of so as to 
derogate from the divine righteousness, or shade its lustre, 
fired her soul with a holy jealousy, and brought forth that 



MRS. HENRY VENN. 15 

apostolic feeling-, "God forbid that I should glory, save in 
the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." She who for years was 
continually looking to marks and evidences of personal holi- 
ness as the ground of her hope before God, now had no other 
Ibundation of confidence than the everlasting covenant ; no 
other joy than what sprang from the everlasting love of 
Jesus to his church. To other people she desired that her 
life should show the evidences of the light that was in her, 
and of the union she had with her Head and Husband on 
the throne of glory. But in her own view of herself before 
God, she stood as the thief saved on the cross — as a brand 
plucked out of the fire. 

Such faith was inseparable from humility. Hence, lest 
I should think more highly of her than I ought to think, she 
was very unwilling ever to let me know the manifestations 
she was favored with from the God of her salvation ; and 
though it was not possible entirely to conceal her secret 
devotions from me, she was desirous to do so. 

To conclude, the written word of God was her study and 
delight. She felt the weakness and poverty of all human 
writings, so as to have scarce more inclination than she had 
leisure to peruse them ; but the Scriptures, like the manna 
which came fresh from heaven, and lay round the camp of 
Israel, she found ever new and nourishing. Her manner of 
reading the Bible w^as excellent. She compared Scripture 
with Scripture, taking much pains to gain the true interpre- 
tation, after having earnestly implored the light of the Holy 
Ghost. What was still dark, she laid up iu her mind, wait- 
ing for an opportunity to make inquiry concerning it of some 
who were mighty in the Scriptures. By this means she 
attained to a very clear view of the grand truths of the Gos- 
pel. The incomparable chapters in which Isaiah, John, and 
Paul speak of the glory of Christ, afibrded a feast to her soul. 

Such, in her life, temper, and employment, was Mira. 

My dear children may perhaps be ready to say, And had 
she no faults ? Yes, many. Though really possessed of a 



16 MRS. HENRY VENN. 

measure of each of the excellences abovq-named, she was 
burdened with an evil nature, which often got the ascendant, 
as others might see ; and much oftener caused her to loathe 
herself in her own eyes, and cleave alone to the blood and 
righteousness of God her Saviour, as the anchor of her soul, 
sure and steadfast. 

Such was Mira : imperfect in the eyes of her fellow- 
creatures — vile and sinful in her own ; yet washed, and 
sanctified, and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and 
by the Spirit of our God. 

All circumstances considered, few have been called to 
bear a heavier cross than I was by her death — a cross insup- 
portable, had I not been filled with the joyful assurance of 
Mira's instant admission into glory, upon her ceasing to dwell 
in the body — a cross that must have sunk me, had not the 
comforts of love divine, the consolations of Christ, and the 
fellowship of the Holy Ghost, been given to me. 

Perilous, indeed, is their condition who have a Mira to 
lose, and know their treasure, if they have not in God a 
tried and proved friend and portion. Without this, in such 
a case the pangs of separation are worse than those of tear- 
ing the arm from the shoulder-blade. After such a stroke, 
future life is all a blank. But when such choicest of crea- 
ture-comforts are enjoyed in God as his gift, infinitely inferior 
to himself the giver — in such a case the wound inflicted by 
parting, though deep and long painful, has its raging smart 
soon abated. The certain speedy reunion in a better world 
wipes away the tears, and tends to pacify the aching mind. 



No. oil 



THE 



BRAZEN SERPENT. 



BY REV. EDWARD D. GRTFFIX, D. D. 




Jesus and his salvation were the substance of all the 
ancient shadows, the end of all the Mosaic rites, and the 
burden of every prophet's song. They were the favorite 
theme of the Old Testament and the New. They are the 
subject of the highest songs of the upper world. They bring 
the purest joy to hearts on earth broken for sin. 

There are few types of happier influence to illustrate the 
gospel remedy and the mamier of its application, than the 
brazen serpent. When the Hebrews provoked God in the 
wilderness, he sent among them Jieri/ serpents of a most 
deadly bite — none being able to defend themselves against 
the fell attack. . What a scene of distress was here I Hun- 
dreds lying dead in the camp ; hundreds more writhing in 
torture, and crj'ing in vain for relief ; every one trembling for 

VOL. xu. 28* 



2 THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 

himself; now a child, and then a wife, and then a brother 
crying out under the tormenting bite. What could they do ? 
They hasted away to Moses, and said with tears, " We have 
sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord, and against thee. 
Pray unto the Lord, that he take away the serpents from 
us." And Moses prayed for the people ; and the Lord said 
to him, " Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole : 
and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when 
he looketh upon it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent 
of brass, and put it upon a pole ; and it came to pass, that if 
a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent 
of brass, he lived." Glorious emblem of Him who was ''lifted 
up, that icliosoever believeth in kim should not perish, hut 
have eternal life'' John 3 : 14, 15. 

Let us trace a little more particularly the resemblance 
between this type and the Antitype. 

1 . It was provided for people in a condition someifhat 
o'esenibling that of the race to whom the Saviour was sent. 
Many of them were groaning under the anguish of their 
wounds, and ready to die ; others heard the cries of their 
parents and children around them, and could neither snatch 
them from death nor afford them a moment's relief Such 
is the state of those for whom a Saviour M^as provided. They 
are dying under the tormenting inflictions of sin ; panting 
with restless desires, which nothing can satisfy ; or tossing 
under anguish of conscience, and a " fearful looking for of 
judgment." They behold around them the wide ruins which 
sin has made. They contemplate the present and endless 
misery of their parents and children, without being able to 
afford them any relief The whole race lie in ruins, amidst 
the wide and frightful ravages of the curse — amidst misery 
and death in a countless variety of Ibrms ; walking over clods 
once animated with human life^-seeing their bretiiren hud- 
dled together in the grave, and all the living going down 
after them — sinking, sinking, till they are out of sight ; death 
temporal and death eternal swallowing up all. Such is the 
ruin of a world smitten with the curse of the Almighty. 
What need there was of a Saviour to seize a race going down 
to hell, to force death to resign its prey, and to call sleeping 
nations from the tomb I 

Another resembling circumstance in the condition of the 
people was, that they appeared iienitent. They confessed 



THE BRAZKN SERPENT. 3 

their sins, and implored forgiveness. As soon as these 
symptoms of contrition appeared — and nothing could be done 
before — God ordered the remedy to be presented. In like 
manner, the Saviour is revealed to none but to those who are 
humbled. He came to preach good tidings only to the meek, 
to bind up none but broken hearts. 

2. The brazen serpent had \\\e forin of the fiery serpents, 
but not their poison. So Christ, though he came "in the 
likeness of sinful flesh," and possessed both the body and the 
soul of a man, had none of our depravity. 

3. The bite of the serpents must be cured by the lifting 
up, not of an eagle, but of a serpent. So Christ must take 
upon himself, not " the nature of angels, but — the seed of 
Abraham." " In all things it behooved him to be made like 
unto his brethren." It must be man that is lifted up to 
atone for the sins of man. 

The serpent must be lifted up conspicuously in the midst 
of the camp, where the eyes of all Israel might centre upon 
it ; and the Son of man must be lifted up in the centre of 
the world, on the top of Jerusalem, environed with proofs 
drawn from heaven and earth, brought in from the whole 
body of the Old Testament, and confirmed by the miracles of 
the New ; and there^ in the midst of the world, in the centre 
of light, where all nations might see the reality and the 
divine appointment of the sacrifice, he made expiation for 
the sins of the world. 

This is the chief meaning of his being lifted up. Tlie 
phrase is twice used, in this sense, in other parts of the same 
Gospel. " When ye have lifted up the Son of man, then 
shall ye know that I am he." " And I, if I be lifted up from 
the earth, will draw all men unto me. This he said, signi- 
fying what death he should die. The people answered him," 
for they understood him, " We have heard out of the law that 
Christ abideth for ever; and how sayest thou, the Son of man 
must be lifted up ?" 

There is another sense in which the Son of man was to 
be lifted up, in order to be the Saviour of the world. He 
was to be raised from the dead, and thus openly acquitted 
and accepted, that in his justification we might be acquitted 
and accepted. - He " was raised again for our justification." 

There is yet another sense in which he was to be lifted 
up. He was to ascend into heaven, there " to appear in the 



4 THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 

presence of God for us ;" there to receive and distribute the 
whole inheritance ; there to rule the universe, and complete 
the salvation of his people. Thus he was to be exalted " to 
be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, 
and forgiveness of sins." 

Had not the brazen serpent been lifted up, all who were 
bitten must have died. Not all the physicians in Israel 
could have brought relief. Had any caviller been disposed 
to say, " What is a brazen serpent ? and cannot God heal 
his people without it?" yet, when bitten himself, he must 
have died if he had not looked to that remedy. And although 
the cross of Christ is to some " a stumbling-block," and to 
others "foolishness," yet without it no child of Adam could 
have been saved ; and without a believing application to it, 
all must perish still. 

4. The serpent being thus erected in full view of the 
camp, the people, when bitten, had only to fix their eyes 
upon it, and they lived. Wounded to death, and racked 
with pain, they had only to cast their languishing eyes on 
this serpent of brass, and all the fire within them was 
quenched — all their anguish relieved. Precious symbol ol 
a precious Saviour I When the soul under conviction ol 
guilt, sees hell naked before it, and destruction without a cov- 
ering, let it then catch one view of Christ atoning for the 
sins of the world — of Christ exalted to the seat of intercession 
and rule ; let there be opened upon it one sunshine of God's 
mercy and truth, and all its anguish and fear are soothed, 
and the dying sinner lives : his sense of guilt and wrath is 
changed to a sense of pardoning love — his midnight darkness 
to a morning without clouds. Instead of lying weak and 
helpless under the feet of trampling foes, he feels omnipo- 
tence growing up within him, and he can march boldly 
against earth and hell combined. All that is wanting to 
bring everlasting relief to the most abject guilt and Avretch- 
edness, is to fix a believing eye on Christ — is to embrace 
him as a complete Saviour, and to take, with him, all that 
God has tendered to men — is to rely on him as the great 
High-priest appointed by God to atone and intercede, and 
whose offering God has sworn to accept — is to confide in the 
sincerity of God in this appointment and oath. When these 
great truths open on the soul, and the glory of God is seen 
shininjj in the face of Jesus Christ, the believer sees, that 



THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 5 

were his guilt doubled ten thousand times, he rnip:lit easily 
be Ibrgiven, and feels that if he had ten thousand souls he 
could venture them all upon a precious Saviour — that there 
is a fulness in him for the necessities of all the lost children 
of Adam ; and he wonders why a whole world do not come 
to him and partake. 

It is a great thing to believe these sublime realities. 
The heart of man is prone to unbelief. For God to pardon 
sins so enormous, and be so kind to enemies and rebels, is so 
unlike the human heart, that it is hard lor men to believe it. 
And under the glooms of guilt it seems too good news to be 
true. And then they have but little confidence in God, and 
fear to trust him for so much. They are not in the habit of 
ascribing to him any great desire to make his creatures 
happy. But when the wonders of his love open on the soul, 
and Christ is seen as a lamb upon the altar, and a Lamb in 
the midst of his Father's throne, then the sinner forgets his 
pains ; his glooms are fled ; his conscience, purged " from 
dead works," is filled M'ith peace — with joy unspeakable, and 
full of glory. The vilest sinner has a w'arrant thus to believe, 
thus to receive the Saviour, and thus to rejoice in him. For 
the ofi'er is to all ; and in believing all this, he only believes 
the word and oath of God — an oath s\vorn by himself and 
attested by miracles : he only believes Christ to be what he 
really is — a highway paved to the throne of mercy, by w^iich 
a whole world may go abreast. Such a view, attended as it 
will be, with a willingness to receive him, which will bring 
an instant consciousness of its own existence, cannot fail 
to produce a sense of safety. Christ is seen to be a rock on 
which the soul may rest, and on which it is conscious of 
resting. It knows that it has not a phantom in its embrace, 
but the very God of Israel. 

One look at the brazen serpent was enough to relieve 
the most desperate case. Nothing in the patient — nothing 
which he had done, or had been, or then was, could prevent 
his cure, provided it did not prevent him from looking. Nq 
merit was required for an efficacious look. The bad and the 
good might equally enjoy the privilege. That they were bitten 
was no prevention, but the very reason why they ought to 
look. In like .manner, faith in Clirist will heal the vilest 
sinner that ever descended from Adam, There is nothing in 
any man — nothing which he has done, has been, or is, which 



Q THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 

can prevent his cure, provided it does not prevent him from 
looking. No merit is required, nor any one virtue but >vhat 
is involved in an operative faith. That men are sinners, is 
no prevention. It is the very reason why they ought to look. 
All that is necessary to fit the vilest sinner for heaven, is 
faith in Christ : not a dead faith, hut that faith which accom- 
panies repentance, and produces love and good works ; not a 
belief that Christ died for me in particular, without any 
thing above a selfish -temper, but a holy approbation of all 
that appears of God in his law and works — of all that appears 
of Christ in his gospel and providence. If one's temper and 
life do not reflect the image of God, he never believed in him 
that was lifted up. 

5. On Mdiat easy terms might the poor distressed He- 
brews live. They had not to search the world for physicians, 
and spend all they had, and only grow worse. They had 
only to cast their eyes on the image that was lifted up ; and 
this they might do without money or price, and without going 
out of their way. And equally easy it is to be healed of the 
wounds of sin. Wondrous grace I After men have raised 
such mountains between them and God, and lie buried under 
worlds of guilt, the weight of which is crushing them to the 
lowest hell, has heaven provided that they shall be so read- 
ily forgiven ? Had they been permitted to hope, after doing 
penance for years — after wandering for ages through the 
world — after giving their first-born for their transgression, 
the fruit of their body for the sin of their soul — even then, 
the grace would have transcended thought ; but to have the 
whole debt discharged with no other pain or expense to them 
than to look on Him who was lifted up, this is indeed " the 
exceeding riches of his grace." 

6. And in this way men must be pardoned, if pardoned 
at all. Had God required them to make any part of the 
atonement — that is, to contribute a mite towards answering 
the purpose of their eternal punishment without enduring 
it — on that spot had been entombed the last hope of man : 
there had been an end to all compact between heaven and 
earth. 

On the other hand, after the atonement is provided, there 
can be no salvation to those who hear the Gospel, without 
faith. After the serpent had been erected, had the wounded 
Hebrews neglected to look at it, they would have remained 



THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 7 

in torments till they died. All the physicians in Israel could 
not have relieved them. No other remedy in heaven or 
earth was provided. And if provided, yet, had they refused to 
look, it would liave been in vain. Ot" what avail would it 
have been to say, " What is the use of looking- at this thing ? 
if virtue is in it, cannot that be conveyed but through the 
eyes ?" A thousand such cavils could not mitigate their 
anguish, nor gain for them a moment's respite from death. 
There was, indeed, no such merit in looking. The efficacy 
depended on Gods appointment : it was intended to set forth 
the efficacy of faith in a tjaviour to come. And this Saviour 
may be provided — may be displayed in our streets, yet, if we 
do not hx our eyes upon him, w^e shall die none the better, 
but all the w^orse for this provision. All the strictness of mo- 
rality, all the prayers of ages, the giving of all our goods to 
feed the poor, and our bodies to be burned as martyrs, would 
not avail without faith. It is of no use for unbelief to plead, 
" How can I be benefited by looking on perfection, which only 
shames my guilt ?" What if there is no intrinsic merit in 
faith ? By divine appointment it is made the condition of 
salvation. Nor was this appointment arbitrary. In the 
nature of things, without that holiness which, in the circum- 
stances of men under the Gospel, cannot I'ail to embrace a 
Saviour, there can be no communion with God, no heavenly 
happiness. 

Further, it was calculated to familiarize to the universe 
the great fact of the substitution, lor both parties, God and 
the snmer, to stand, as it were, together at the altar, and 
as the lamb is slain, to consent mutually that its life should 
go for the life of the sinner. Without this consent on the 
part of man, the vicarious exhibition is far less distinct and 
impressive. Also, without this consent, and the accompany- 
ing conviction of need, the sinner can never feel his indebt- 
edness to the Saviour, nor give the glory of his salvation to 
the sacred Three, nor indeed be happy. On these accounts, 
faith in Christ is made the essential condition of salvation. 

And now, my dear reader, suffer me to hold up before 
you the Antitype of the brazen serpent. If you are mourning 
under guilt and filled with anguish, raise your believing 
eyes to Him who is lifted up beibre you to-day, and one look 
will make you whole. Ye who are groping in darkness, look 
hither and be enlightened. Ye who are weak and polluted, 



8 THE BRAZEN SERPENT. 

look and be strong and pure. Ye who complain of hardness 
of heart, cast your eyes upon Him who hangs on the tree 
covered wdth sweat and blood, and be melted into contrition 
and love. Ye who are tempted, look and be delivered. Ye 
who are agonized with doubts respecting your adoption, look 
again, and gain a clearer vision and a firmer assurance. 
VYhatever be your infirmities or your sorrov^^s, look — look 
to Him who is lifted up. As the serpent was erected in the 
centre of the camp, so Christ has been lifted up in the centre 
of the world, that all eyes, from east, west, north, and south, 
may centre there. There he hangs, and every lacerated 
vein bleeds balm for the healing of the nations. He sheds 
influence in every direction to heal all other wounds but his 
own. And from the top of the bloody tree I hear a voice, 
trembling in death, " Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the 
ends of the earth." While millions of eyes are turned thither 
from all the regions of the globe, and millions of souls are 
healed by a look, my heart exclaims, "How much is this 
like that wondrous scene in the wilderness !" I ascend the 
high and trembling mount, whence I have a view of a world 
gazing at the cross by which I stand. I see ten thousand 
eyes, glistening with joy and tears, meet in this centre, from 
Asia, Africa, Europe, and America. I see new faces turned 
this way. I see their distorted features settle into heavenly 
peace as they gaze : and now they brighten, and now they 
shine as Moses' did. I stand and enjoy the transports of 
nations. Ye kingdoms of redeemed sinners, roll hither the 
volume of your united praise. Shout, for the Healer of the 
nations is lifted up. I ibllow him up to heaven. I see him, 
with solemn formality, take his throne. Every eye which 
lately gazed at Calvary follows him hither. He takes the 
reins of government, and a voice, deep as ten thousand thun- 
ders, and sweet as the "influences of Pleiades," issues from 
the glorious throne, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." A mingled 
sound, as " of many waters," responds, " We come, Lord, we 
come." And let us go with them. Let us go and commit 
ourselves eternally to Him who is our righteousness, our 
strength, our all in all. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 5ia. 

MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

AND 

MUKDERERS OF MOTHERS; 

BY REV. EDWARD HITCHCOCK, D. D. 

PRESIDENT OF AMHERST COLLEGE. 



In the Scriptures, as well as in common language, mur- 
der does not always mean the destruction of natural life by 
an act of violence. "Whosoever hateth his brother," says 
John, "is a murderer;" that is, he has the essential spirit 
of a murderer. We say, also, that he is a murderer who 
unnecessarily pursues a course of conduct by which the rep- 
utation or happiness of another is destroyed, and his life 
shortened. In this sense, then, murder is a common crime, 
committed by multitudes who never imagme that they are 
guilty — committed sometimes upon those Avho are truly 
beloved by the murderer, and are his best friends. And 
strange as it may seem, this crime is more common among 
the young than any other class, and their parents are the vic- 
tims. I shall not charge any of my youthful readers with 
being murderers of fathers, and murderers of mothers ; but 
as I point out some of the principal modes in which they 
may become such, let them honestly inquire, whether they 
have not already commenced the fearful work. 

1 . The young man may become the murderer of his fa- 
ther and his mother by maldng the idle and the immoral, 
the ujiprijtdpled w the irreligious, his chosen companions 

* 1 Timothy, 1:9. 
VOL, XII 29 



2 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

The principles on which the remarks I am about to make 
are founded, apply equally to youth of either sex. But for 
the sake of brevity, I shall speak only of young m«n. From 
his earliest days, it is the strong desire and effort of Christian 
parents to preserve the mind of their son free from the im- 
purities and fascinations of vice ; and until they find him 
associating with the idle, the unprincipled, and the immoral, 
they imagine their efforts to be successful. But his choice 
of companions reveals the plague-spot on his heart. He 
would not associate with the wicked, if he did not relish 
their society ; and he would not relish it, if the contagion of 
vice had not invaded his purity of principle and feeling. 
With the love of sin in his heart, what now shall prevent 
the inexperienced youth from the lawless indulgence of his 
passions, with reckless companions to lead the way ? How 
feeble will be the warning voice of parental affection to 
resist the strong current of sinful inclination. As yet he 
knows not from experience the bitter consequences of a sin- 
ful course. But parents know that " the ivages of sin is 
death" — death to all true peace of mind — death to all 
hopes of usefulness and reputation — death temporal, and 
death eternal. The son, however, imagines no danger from 
his associates. He sees in them honorable feelings and noble 
purposes, and only occasionally do they show their aversion 
to what they call bigotry and intolerance in religion, and 
unreasonable strictness of morality. And what danger in 
such society to him, who has so much respect for religion, 
and who knows how to take care of himself? Alas, his 
parents realize that his danger is more imminent than if he 
consorted with the openly profligate, because he feels in no 
danger, and drinks in the poison without knowing it. The 
dreadful anticipation of having their child ruined for this 
world and another, fills their hearts with such anguish as a 
parent only can know. It brings upon them early gray 
hairs, ploughs deep furrows upon their foreheads, and urges 
them prematurely towards the grave. It is in fact slow, but 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 3 

in many cases, certain murder. Yet how easy for you, 
young man, by abandoning those companions, to save your 
parents, and to save yourself I 

2. The young man may murder his father and his moth- 
er by immoral and ungrateful conduct. 

Fearful as parents are, when their son shows a fondness 
for idle or immoral companions, that he will soon become 
like them in practice, they cannot give up the fond hope that 
God's restraining grace and parental admonition may save 
him from actual dissipation and profligacy. But when they 
find that the fear of God and the warnings of conscience 
are so overcome that habitual wickedness is committed, it is 
as if a deep murderer's stab had been aimed at their hearts. 
Can it be, that their darling boy, whom they had success- 
fully taught to be industrious and economical, has become a 
reckless, idle spendthrift ; not merely of money, but of time 
and opportunities far more valuable than money ? Can it be, 
that one lately so obedient to parental authority, and so ten- 
derly alive to his parents' happiness, now tramples on their 
authority, and is indifferent to their feelings ? Can it be, that 
one instructed so carefully to regard the Sabbath as hojy 
time, now devotes that day to the perusal of secular news- 
papers or novels, to wandering about the streets, to rides 
of pleasure, and to the society of irreligious companions ? 
Once he rarely ventured far, by day or by night, without 
parental advice and permission ; and he failed not to kneel, 
at an early hour of the evening, at the family altar of devo- 
tion, as a delightful preparation for early and sweet repose. 
But he has learnt to trust his own feelings when and where 
to go, and what company to keep ; and often is he, when the 
hour of evening prayer arrives, at the convivial board, join- 
ing in the lascivious song and the Bacchanalian shout, instead 
of supplication and praise to Jehovah. Parental admonition 
and entreaty ' awaken only disgust and insolence, and his 
father and mother perceive that they have lost their hold 
upon the conscience of their son. Such a transformation 



4 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

of a frank, open-hearted child, into a reckless, unfeeling prof- 
ligate, changes parental anxiety into agony. And yet their 
feelings must be in a great measure concealed from- him who 
causes their anguish, lest his hard heart should lead him to 
add to his other crimes, mockery and insult towards those 
who gave him birth. Therefore must they bear the trial 
in silence, and let it prey upon their spirits, until they sigh 
for a release from a world that is to them only a scene of 
hopelessness and suffering. 

It is in the way pointed out under this head, that is, by 
immoral and ungrateful conduct, that very many become 
murderers of fathers, and murderers of mothers. Therefore 
let me dwell longer upon this point, and refer to some spe- 
cific examples. 

The time has come when the youth must quit the pater- 
nal roof, to become, it may be, an apprentice in some handi- 
craft, or to engage in mercantile or agricultural pursuits. 
Going to some country town reputed as moral and rehgious, 
his parents feel less solicitude for his safety. But when hints 
reach them of his prodigal habits, irregular houi's, profane 
language, and neglect of business, their hearts begin to 
writhe with torturing anticipations. By letter and personal 
address, they lift loud the note of warning. But in his hag- 
gard countenance and reckless conduct, they read the broad 
marks of dissipation. Out of the reach of watchful and con- 
trolling parents, evil companionship has led to evil actions ; 
and now it will require little short of a miracle to save him 
from ruin. Instead of rising to respectability and distinction, 
as his fond parents had hoped, he will grovel along through 
the years of manhood, useless and known only for his vices, 
seeking only low pleasures and low society, with a broken 
constitution, and a mind ignorant and degraded, until an 
early grave opens to receive him. But often he will drag 
down his broken-hearted parents to the same narrow house ; 
and there will they lie, the murderer and the murdered, 
side by side, till they go up together to the final judgment. 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 5 

It may be, that the youth, on leaving home, is sent to 
the city, and for a time is aware that dangers of almost 
eveiy name will meet him there. But vice soon becomes 
familiar to his observation : fascinating companions, graceful 
in manners, and generous in professions, introduce him to 
the social circle, where a magic influence comes over him 
to dispel every fear of danger. The same companions lead 
him to the theatre, a place where he finds much to amuse 
and delight, and little apparently to injure ; and hence he 
infers that its dangers have been exaggerated by his par- 
ents, and he ventures again and again to the brilliant and 
enchanting spot. The snare is well laid and baited, and 
the bird falls into it and is taken. But this is only the 
gilded entrance to the dark labyrinth of iniquity. With his 
passions excited by the scenes of the theatre, the youth is 
easily lured by cunning companions into the gaming-house, 
and the place of the midnight carousal. Maddened there by 
the alcoholic bowl, he soon becomes as bold and reckless as his 
most unprincipled companions. The next step is to enter her 
house whose " steps take hold on hell." There the last trace 
of moral and religious principle in his bosom is blotted out ; 
the voice of conscience is effectually smothered ; and when 
his purse becomes empty by his dissipation, he is prepared 
to replenish it from the coffers of his employer. Deeper and 
deeper does he dip his hand into the forbidden treasure, until 
detection follows, and the brand of infamy is publicly stamped 
upon his character. If he escapes the penitentiary, it is only 
to be looked upon with scorn by the world, and with pity 
by the Christian ; and after herding for a time with the 
dregs of society, to be thrown into the drunkard's and the 
felon's grave, unnoticed and unlamented. But what a ter 
rible termination of a parent's fond hopes I What a dread 
ful metamorphosis of a beloved son, whom they sent forth 
untarnished, and with lofty expectations, from their Christian 
home I How much worse to bear than the assassin's dagger, 
was each successive development of his depravity ; and how 
VOL. XII. 29* 



Q MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

terribly must the final result have completed a father's and 
a mother's immolation I 

Perhaps the youth leaves home for the college, or the 
academy ; and for one, it may be, where there are many in- 
fluences and strong, in favor of religion and morality. But 
the purest of them has its dangers ; and some of these dan- 
gers are peculiar, and assail the young man unawares, and 
he falls an easy prey to the wiles of the wicked. At home 
he had been taught, that a man could not be placed in any 
circumstances where he could be released from obligations 
to obey the laws of religion and morality, or might connive 
at wickedness in others, and omit to bear testimony against 
it. But in the literary institution to which he attaches 
himself, he finds that he must modify these so-called puri^ 
tanical notions. Certain rules of honor, instead of strict 
moral and religious principle, must regulate all his conduct 
towards his companions. He cannot find any one who can 
tell him exactly what these rules are ; but he is distinctly 
informed, that they require him to close his eyes and ears as 
much as possible against the wickedness of his fellow-stu- 
dents, and to wink at immoral conduct in them, which he 
would feel bound to expose in any other member of the 
community. At any rate, he must suffer undeserved pun- 
ishment himself, rather than expose the evil deeds of a class- 
mate ; and always be ready to vindicate the honor and repu- 
tation of his fellows. At first, his rigid views of duty are 
shocked by such requisitions ; but finding that compliance 
or persecution awaits him, many a young man has not moral 
courage enough to take his firm stand on the platform of the 
Bible. He submits to the trammels imposed upon him, and 
thus sacrifices his independence ; for this is only the begin- 
ning of his degradation. 

Those who have driven him to abandon one important 
point, well know that he can be made to yield others. The 
next step is to draw him into the society of the idle and the 
reckless : and alas, what literary institution does not contain 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 7 

some such ? There for a time he meets Avith little to shock 
his moral sensibilities, except perhaps an occasional joke 
upon religion, an inuendo against bigotry and intolerance, 
and possibly a little profaneness. His companions are in- 
deed jovial, but they are amiable and gentlemanly ; and 
their society occasionally seems almost essential to relieve 
the monotony and cheerlessness of college life. Ere long, 
however, the oath becomes more frequent, the mirth more 
boisterous, and the card-table and the wine-cup are intro- 
duced. To escape detection, these convivial entertainments 
must be deferred till the midnight hour, and of course the 
subsequent day be devoted to recovery from the debauch. 
The youth's literary standing soon sinks ; he loses his habits 
of study, and falls under censure ; but instead of reforming, 
he is irritated by expostulation and warning. Detection 
serves only to lead him to adopt more efiectual measures to 
avoid it in future. 

In short, he has become almost irreclaimably dissipated 
before his parents are aware that he has turned aside at all 
from the right path. They had supposed him possessed of 
superior talents ; and with virtuous principles, that he would 
be proof against temptation. The intimation of his devia- 
tions, therefore, comes upon them with the suddenness and 
severity of the assassin's stab. "With the earnestness of pa- 
rental affection, they immediately appeal to every principle 
in their son which they suppose capable of being called into 
action. They cannot believe that he has so soon abandoned 
his bright hopes of future distinction, nor lost his respect for 
parental authority, or his filial attachments, nor become in- 
sensible to the sanctions of religion. They, therefore, press 
upon him all these considerations ; and that is usually the 
crisis in the young man's history. If parental authority and 
affection triumph, and he relents, and breaks off his bad 
habits, and abandons his evil companions, he will be saved 
from utter ruin. But if his proud heart spurns a parent's 
counsel and exhortation, the last hold upon him is gone, and 



8 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

it will.be but a short time before he reaches the bottom of 
the gulf of infamy. If he should be smuggled through col- 
lege, it will be only to tantalize a little longer his parents' 
hopes, and to throw himself upon the community as a use- 
less weight. Those parents must see him still grovelling 
with the idle and the dissipated ; and thankful should they 
be, if his broken constitution should carry him prematurely 
to the grave by natural disease, before his depravity has out- 
raged society so that he must expiate his crimes in the dun- 
geon for life, or upon the scaffold. But how much easier for 
his wretched parents to fall by the literal murderer's assault, 
than thus to be suspended on the rack of uncertainty year 
after year, and at last to feel life and hope expire together. 
Alas, how many parents are at this moment stretched upon 
that rack, and destined to the same extinction of life and 
hope. 

In all the examples that I have now given, and indeed 
as a general fact, the beginning and chief agent of ruin to 
the inexperienced youth, is the secret convivial frolic with 
jovial and unprincipled companions. And in fact, in no 
other place will his religious principles sooner yield, or pa- 
rental lessons be .forgotten, or the fear of God and man be 
cast off, and his low appetites and passions triumph over 
reason and conscience. For there the lewd and ribald song 
soon salutes his ears; low, vulgar wit takes the place of 
reason; the sober and the religious are made the butt of 
ridicule ; and there, sometimes at least, the cup of intoxica- 
tion goes round, and the youth, perhaps almost for the first 
time, "looks upon the Avine when it is red, when it giveth 
its color in the cup, when it moveth itself aright," until his 
firmest temperance principles are overcome, and the fatal 
cup is lifted to his mouth ; and with that first draught he 
swallows scorpions and daggers. True, he may have no 
suspicion of the dangers that await him there; nay, he 
may suppose that by entering that circle he is only prepar- 
ing himself for the circles of gentility and fashion, and that 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 9 

unless he does tliere learn to sip the alcoholic bowl with 
politeness, he can never be admitted to the society of the 
wealthy and influential. But his father and mother know, 
every experienced man knows, because again and again 
have they seen the fatal process carried through, that the 
young man, however firm he may suppose his principles and 
yet uncorrupt his practice, who enters these convivial cir- 
cles, has placed one foot within the purlieus of hell. He 
has entered a moral Maelstrom, and begun those fatal gy- 
rations, which, without miraculous deliverance, will become 
swifter and s^dfter, narrower and narrower, until he goes 
down like lightning into the central vortex, and disappears 
for ever. terrible delusion I To what multitudes of tal- 
ented and amiable, yet inexperienced young men, has the 
convivial frolic proved fatal for this world and another. 
"Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be 
burnt ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be 
burnt?" 

But parents are not thus deceived ; and as one develop- 
ment after another comes out, as wicked actions succeed to 
wicked companionship, they see and know the fatal end to 
which he is hastening. Though his path be crooked, they 
know how slippery and downward it is, and how difficult 
for one who has entered upon it to thread his way back to 
virtue and to heaven. For one who has thus returned, they 
have seen a thousand buried beneath the waves of ever- 
lasting infamy and despair. Each successive act of wicked- 
ness, therefore, of which their son is guilty, makes a deeper 
and a deeper murderer's stab into their hearts. They know 
that idleness and duplicity, intemperance, profaneness, and 
licentiousness, are sins that not only paralyze the conscience, 
but rot out the heart and the intellect, and leave the mis- 
erable victim to sink down early, a loathsome mass of cor- 
ruption, into hell. 

One other mode of murdering fathers and mothers I 
ought to describe under this head, because it approaches 



10 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

nearer to literal murder than any which has been named. 
As the father approaches the dotage of old age, he is apt 
to repose an overweening confidence in a favorite son, 
and in an unguarded hour, transfers to him his 2yyo2^erty. 
And it would indeed seem that a father might be sure of 
an ample support and kind treatment from an own son, 
whom he had treated thus generously ; for to that father 
he was indebted for existence, for support in infancy, for an 
education, and now for an estate earned by a life of labor. 
But alas, melancholy facts show that there are some so de- 
void of natural afiection, as well as of all honorable feeling 
and religious principle, as to feel their parents to be a bur- 
den, so soon as they have obtained their property ; and who 
will treat them unkindly for the very purpose of shortening 
their days. It is base enough for a child to refuse to sustain 
his aged and feeble parents because they have been unable to 
bequeath him any property. But when they have actually 
done this, it becomes barbarous and detestable in the extreme ; 
and if there be any sin which will provoke God to punish it 
in a special manner, it is this. But why do I enlarge ? For 
he wlio has become so dead to every sentiment of nature and 
religion as to abuse an aged parent, has a conscience too 
deeply enveloped by the callous folds of selfishness and mean- 
ness to be reached by any words of mine. 

3. The young man may murder his father and his mother 
by embracing dangerous religious error. 

Men embrace errors in religion, either because they lead 
unholy lives, or cherish a self-righteous, unsubmissive spirit. 
The more wicked a man's life, the more reckless must he 
be in his opinions, in order to quiet his conscience. Self- 
righteousness and pride require a system of error more re- 
fiined, and more capable of literary embellishment ; and the 
nearer it approaches in appearance to the true Gospel, the 
more acceptable will it be, because conscience, that stern 
advocate for evangelical piety in the heart, will be thus more 
easily satisfied. But it is" essential, that such a system be 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. H 

wanting in all that is vital in the Gospel, or it will not qviiet 
the fears of one who expects to enter heaven without a new 
heart. The particular fonn of error embraced is of little 
consequence in the view of the parent, provided it leave his 
son to rest easy without a nev/ heart. He may fancy that 
he difiers so little from his father that it is of small impor- 
tance ; Avhile yet it is as mysterious to him as it was to JNTic- 
odemus, how a man can be born again. Ignorant of this 
doctrine, his parents know that he differs enough from them 
to shut him out of heaven as certainly as if with the fool he 
had said, "There is no God;" for, "■ Excei:)t a man he horn 
again, lie cannot see the kingdom of GodP 

It is the loss of his soul, not a bigoted attachment to 
a particular creed, that makes these parents so anxious. 
They well know how easy it is for the advocates of almost 
any error, even of Atheism itself, to array a list of names 
distinguished in literature and science as its supporters ; and 
they know, too, how fascinating to the youthful mind, is a 
reputation for talents and learning. "Whatever religious 
opinions such men embrace, the young are ready to suppose 
safe and true; although, in fact, such men are probably .of 
all others most apt to embrace error, because they usually 
give less serious attention to the subject, have more pride 
of opinion, and are usually more stubborn in their preju- 
dices. Besides, when a man has once adopted some plausi- 
ble and popular system of error, and thrown around it the 
drapery of literature and j)hilosophy, he is the most un- 
likely of all men to see his lost condition, and flee to that 
only name under heaven whereby he can be saved. There- 
fore it is that these parents are so distressed when they find 
their son reposing quietly upon the gilded and downy couch 
of error, where he is most likely to be " given up to strong 
delusions to beHcve a lie, that he might be damned." 

4. The young man may murder his father and his moth- 
er by neglecting 2^erso7icd religion. 

The grand object of all their toils and prayers for their 



12 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

child; is his conversion. Until this great change pass over 
him, they feel as if the grand business of life, for which 
chiefly he was created, had been neglected. For, without 
a new heart, they know he must be lost ; and yet he, like 
others, is liable at any moment to be summoned into eter- 
nity. Hence, though he be moral and amiable, a respecter 
of religion, and even distinguished among men, they look 
with comparative indifference and dissatisfaction upon all 
his acquisitions which leave him destitute of a new heart. 
Can it be, that they have brought up a child only to endure 
everlasting misery ? From his earliest days they consecrated 
him in prayer and faith to God ; and as he grew up, every 
opportunity was seized upon to store his mind with the 
truths of religion, and to impress his conscience with his 
guilt and danger. Sometimes his heart seemed to relent, 
and the tear of anxiety was seen in his eye. But these signs 
proved only the morning cloud and early dew ; and though 
the years of his minority are almost or quite gone, he still 
remains unconverted ; and every year the work is delayed, 
only deepens parental anxiety, because the hope of his sal- 
vation so rapidly diminishes. 

During the childhood and youth of most persons, there 
are certain memorable events, each of which forms a sort of 
crisis in their history. One of these is sickness. At such a 
time, when the youth needs the supports of religion, he finds 
that he has none on which he dare rest. His morality, his 
kind feelings towards others, his upright and honorable con- 
duct, and even his attention to the outward forms of religion, 
he finds will not form a resting-place for his soul, in that dark 
valley he seems about to enter. Oh, had he listened to pa- 
rental instruction and entreaty while in health, he might 
now have had a rock to stand upon, amid the surging bil- 
lows. If he should recover, surely he camiot longer neglect 
the great salvation. So feels the youth, and so feel his par- 
ents. He does recover ; but his former stupor creeps over 
him again, and his agonized parents have every reason to 



AND MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 13 

expect that his next sickness will find him, like the last, en- 
tirely unprepared to die. 

It may be that the youth is called to severe affliction, in 
the sudden departure of a brother, a sister, or chosen com- 
panion. A dying friend sounds in his ears a piercing note 
of warning. It falls upon him like a sudden peal of thun- 
der, and awakens him from his deep spiritual slumbers. 
Strong hope that the hour of his conversion has come, springs 
up in the bosom of his aflectionate parents. But the cup of 
happiness, which with a trembling hand they are lifting to 
their lips, is destined to be dashed upon the ground, leaving 
only the dregs of disappointment for them to taste. Their 
son's religious impressions gradually wear away, and he 
sinks into a deeper sleep than ever, while they awake to 
keener suffering. 

Another season of deep solicitude and strong hope to 
Christian parents, is a revival of religion. If their son be 
not awakened and converted then, they know how faint is 
the probability that he will turn to God during the season 
of general indifference that too often follows a time of spe- 
cial religious interest. Nay, they fear, that having resisted 
the special influences of such a season, his heart will be so 
hardened that no future means will avail to subdue it. In- 
tense, therefore, is the anxiety which Christian parents feel 
for their unconverted and unawakened son, during such a 
work. They have long beheld liim twisted and crushed in 
the folds of the hydra-headed monster sin, and now they 
see approaching a more than Herculean Deliverer, ready to 
set the dying captive free. Alas, must they see their child 
spurn the only power that can deliver him, and permit the 
monster to wind another coil around his heart ? He does not, 
indeed, see how bitter is the anguish of disappointment in 
their souls, when the special work of God draws to a close, 
and he remains unconverted. But their closets, the midnight 
hour, the stars of heaven, and the God of heaven Avitness 
their deep distress, when, from a bleeding heart, the parent 
VOL. xir. 30 



14 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, 

exclaims, " Is Ephraira my dear son ? Is he a pleasant 
child ?" " How can I give thee up, Ephraim ? How can I 
deliver thee, Israel ?" Ah, they must give him up ; but it 
will break their hearts. They will go down to an early 
grave, murdered by a beloved son. 

In view of this subject, thus presented, let the young 
man who reads these pages honestly inquire, whether he 
is not really, though perhaps unconsciously, among the 
murderers of fathers, and the murderers of mothers. Is he 
not the child of pious parents, and yet wedded to a compan- 
ionship with those whom he knows to be idle, or unprinci- 
pled, or immoral, or irreligious ? Nay, is he not conscious 
of indulging in some immoral practices ? Has he not forti- 
fied himself in the belief of principles which effectually 
shield him from conviction of sin, and keep the slumbers of 
spiritual death unbroken ? At least, does he not, from year 
to year, neglect personal religion, even under the loudest 
calls and the most urgent appeals, and the rebukes of con- 
science, and the strivings of the Spirit ? If such be your 
character, in any of these respects, little do you know what 
a bitter cup you are compelling your father and mother to 
drink. It is known, that certain poisons may be admin- 
istered in so small doses as to be unnoticed at the time, but 
great enough, by repetition, to insure the death of the vic- 
tim. That fatal act you are practising upon your dearest 
earthly friends, who would gladly endure sufiering and death, 
could they ward them off from you. 

This charge you may think extravagant and untrue. 
The smile of affection meets you under the paternal roof, 
and the tenderest solicitude is manifested for your welfare. 
Ah, natural affection will glow in those parents' hearts till 
they are cold in the grave ; nor will the hope of your con- 
version entirely abandon them, while you live and they can 
pray. But knowing as they do, how dangerous are the com- 
panions with whom you associate, or the evil habits you in- 
dulge, or the religious errors you have embraced, or your 



AMD MURDERERS OF MOTHERS. 15 

long-continued indifference and stupidity respecting your own 
salvation, their hearts sink with discouragement ; they trem- 
ble lest you are given over to blindness of mind and hard- 
ness of heart, and their faith falters when they pray for your 
conversion. Though concealed from your eye, a secret an- 
guish on your account is preying upon their life. The moth- 
er who bore you — she whose tears fell often upon your infant 
cheek, as over your cradle she agonized in prayer for your 
early conversion — she who has often grown pale with mid- 
night watchings by your sick-bed — she who first taught 
your infant lips the language of prayer — she who has fol- 
lowed you with her prayers, and tears, and counsels, in all 
your wanderings — that mother's heart you are now filling 
with deep distress, if indeed that distress and her toils for 
you have not already carried her down to an early grave. 
That father, too, who has cheerfully foregone a thousand 
pleasures, and made a thousand sacrifices, and submitted to 
multiplied cares and toils, for your support and education — 
whose hopes have been centred in you, and Avho has long 
felt as if death would be welcome, could it secure your con- 
version — 0, what desolation reigns in that father's heart, 
as he sees you, after all his prayers and labors, still moviiig 
unconcernedly on the road to death. Or it may be, that his 
early grey hairs ere now have been brought down with 
sorrow to the grave. Oh, you are the murderer of those 
parents, whether you realize it or not, as really as if you had 
stolen to their bed at midnight, and buried the fatal steel in 
their bosoms ; and for that deed you must answer at the 
final day of trial, when the wounds you have inflicted will 
be exposed to the view of the universe. 

But after all, though there is a solemn reality in these 
representations, I am fully aware that most of those who 
are thus the .murderers of fathers, and the murderers of 
mothers, are totally unconscious of the influence they are 
exerting upon their parents' happiness. Nay, though they 
must know that every wrong course they take, and even their 



10 MURDERERS OF FATHERS, ETC. 

continued neglect of religion, cannot but thwart the strong- 
est desires of those parents' hearts, still they cling to them 
with strong attachment. For filial affection is a chord in 
the human heart that retains its sensibility when sin has 
paralyzed every thing besides ; and even the desperate crimi- 
nal, who has set heaven and earth at defiance, melts and 
weeps at the name of father or mother. Would to God I 
could make that chord vibrate, till it should rouse you, ye 
unconverted young men, from the stupor of sin, and convert 
you, from the murderers, into the temporal saviors of your 
parents. Should you see that father and mother in the 
hands of the literal assassin, and their blood were stream- 
ing, and their death-cry came into your ears for help, how 
would you rush to their rescue, though a hundred swords 
were drawn to oppose you. Ah, they are in the assassin's 
hands — but thou, unconverted youth, art the man. They 
are covered with wounds, and their lifeblood is flowing out 
like water. But your sins, your unbelief and stupidity, are 
the sword that has cloven their hearts asunder. They are 
crying for help : but it is to God for your conversion. The 
language of Christ for his murderers is theirs : " Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do." But can 
you be forgiven, if you persist in destroying the peace and 
happiness of those who gave you being, and commit suicide, 
also, upon your own most precious soul ? JSTever ! Yet if you 
will be persuaded to yield your heart to the claims of the 
Lord Jesus Christ, forgiveness, free, and full, and everlasting, 
will be lavished upon you. The wounds you have inflicted 
upon your earthly parents will be healed as if by miracu- 
lous touch ; and your father on earth, and your Father in 
heaven, will joyfully exclaim, " Bring forth the best robe, 
and put it on him ; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes 
on his feet. For this my son was dead, and is alive again ; 
he was lost, and is found." 



mo. 313. 

CHEIST PEECIOUS 

TO 

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

BY REV. SAMUEL DAVIES, 

PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY. 



" Unto you therefore which beHeve," says the apostle, 
"He is precious." 1 Peter, 2: 7. Yes, blessed be God, 
though a great part of the creation is disaffected to Jesus 
Christ ; though fallen spirits, both in flesh and without flesh, 
both upon earth and in hell, neglect him or profess them- 
selves open enemies to him, yet he is precious : precious not 
only in himself, not only to his Father, not only to the choirs 
of heaven, who behold his full glory without a veil, but pre- 
cious to some even in our guilty world — precious to a sort of 
persons of our sinful race who make no great figure in mor- 
tal eyes, who have no idea of their own goodness ; who are 
mean, unworthy creatures in their own view, and who-are 
generally despicable in the view of others : I mean, he is pre- 
cious to all true believers. And though they are but few 
comparatively in our world, yet, blessed be God, there are 
some believers even upon our guilty globe, and I doubt not 
but I am now addressing some such. 

My believing brethren — if I may venture to claim kindred 
with you — I am now entering upon a design, which I know 
you have much at heart ; and that is, to make the blessed 
Jesus more precious to you, and if possible, to recommend 
him to the afibctions of the crowd that neglect him. You 
know, alas, that you love him but little, but very little, 
compared to his infinite excellency and your obligations to 
him ; and you know that multitudes love him not at all. 
Whatever they proless, their practice shows that their carnal 
minds are enmity against him. This you often see, and the 
sight affects your hearts. It deeply affects you to think so 
VOL. XII. 30* 



2 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

much "excellency should be neglected and despised, and so 
much love meet with such base returns of ingratitude. And 
you cannot but pity your poor fellow-sinners, that they are 
so blind to the brightest glory and their own highest inter- 
est, and that they should perish through wilful neglect of 
their deliverer ; perish, as it were, within reach of the hand 
stretched out to save them. This is indeed a very affecting, 
very lamentable, and alas, a very common sight. And will 
you not then bid me God speed in my attempt to recommend 
this precious, though neglected Jesus ? Will you not con- 
tribute your share towards my success in so pious and benev- 
olent a design by your earnest prayers ? 

To you ichicli believe, He is lyreciou?,. He ? Who ? Is 
it mammon, the god of the world ? Is it pleasure, or honor ? 
No ; none of these is the darling of the believing heart. But 
it is He who is the uppermost in every pious heart ; He, who 
is first in the thoughts and affections ; He whom every fHend 
of his must know, even without a name : if it be but said of 
him. He is precious, this is enough to distinguish him from 
all others. " If it be He the apostle means," may every be- 
liever say, " who is most precious to my soul, then I can 
easily point him out, though without a name. It must be 
Jesus, for 0, it is he that is most precious to me." The con- 
nection also of the text directs us to the same person. It is 
he the apostle means, whom he had just described as a liv- 
ing stone, chosen of God, and precious ; the chief corner- 
stone, the great foundation of the Church, that spiritual tem- 
ple of God, so stately and glorious, and reaching from earth 
to heaven ; it is this precious stone, this heavenly jewel, that 
is precious to believers. 

" To you ivhicJi believe, he is precious ;" that is, he is 
highly valued by you. You esteem him one of infinite worth, 
and he has the highest place in your affections. He is dearer 
to your hearts than all other persons and things. The word 
Ti/zi] requires a still stronger translation : "To you that be- 
lieve, he is 2yfeciousness ;" preciousness in the abstract; all 
preciousness, and nothing but preciousness ; a precious stone 
without one blemish. 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 3 

" To YOU WHICH BELIEVE, he IS j^rccioKS ;" that is to say, 
the value of this precious stone is, alas, unknow^ii to the 
crowed. It is so far from being precious, that it is a stone of 
stumbling, and a rock of offence ; a stone disallowed of men, 
verse 4 ; rejected even by the builders, verse 7 ; but you 
behevers, ye happy few, have another estimate of it. Faith 
enables you to see the glories of the blessed Jesus ; and when 
you know him through this medium, you cannot but love 
him. The blind world neglect the Lord of glory, because 
they know him not ; but you believers know him, and there- 
fore to you he is precious. Faith presents him to your view 
in a just light, and directs you to form a proper estimate of 
him. It is truly lamentable that such real excellenc}^ should 
be despised ; but so it will be with the world till they be- 
lieve. The mere speculative recommendati(5n of their rea- 
son, the prepossessions of education in his favor, and the best 
himian means, are not sufficient to render Jesus precious to 
them. Nothing but saving faith can effect this. 

To you THEREFORE tcMcJi helieve, he is 2'>'>'ccious. The 
illative particle therefore shows that this passage is an infer- 
ence from what went before ; and the reasoning seems to be 
this : " This stone is precious to God ; therefore it is preoious 
to you that believe. You have the same estimate of Jesus 
Christ which God the Father has ; and for that very reason 
he is precious to you, because he is precious to him." That 
this is the connection will appear, if you look back to the 
fourth and sixth verses, where you find Jesus described as " a 
chief corner-stone, laid in Zion, elect or chosen, and precious ; 
disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious." 
Men wickedly disapprove this stone, and even many of the 
professed builders of his church reject him. This, says the 
apostle, must be granted. But this is no objection to his 
real worth. He is precious to God, who knows him best, 
and who is a perfect judge of real excellency ; and for that 
very reason he is precious to you that believe. Faith teaches 
you to look upon persons and things in the same light in 
which God views them ; it makes your sentiments conformed 
to his. Christ is the Father's beloved Son, in whom he is 



4 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

well pleased ; and he is your beloved Saviour, in whom you 
are well pleased. 

Is it any wonder that Jesus should be precious to believ- 
ers, when he is so precious in himself, and in his offices — 
so precious to the angelic armies, and so precious to his 
Father ? 

I. He is precious in himself. He is Immanuel, God- 
man ; and consequently, whatever excellences belong either 
to the divine or human nature centre in him. If wisdom, 
power, and goodness, divine or human, created or uncreated, 
can render him worthy of the highest affection, he has a 
just claim to it. Whatever excellences, natural or moral, 
appear in any part of the vast universe, they are but faint 
shadows of his beauty and glory. " All things were created 
by him, and for him : and by him all things consist." Col. 
1 : 16, 17. And whatever excellences are in the effect 
must be eminently in the cause. You do not wonder nor 
censure, when you see men delighted with the glories of the 
sun, and the various luminaries of the sky ; you do not won- 
der nor blame, when they take pleasure in the beautiful 
prospects of nature, or in that rich variety of good things 
which earth and sea, and every element furnishes for the 
support of man, or the gratification of his senses ; you do not 
wonder and blame, when they are struck with mortal beau- 
ty, when you see them admire and approve wisdom, benev- 
olence, justice, veracity, meekness, and mercy ; you never 
think it strange, much less censurable, that men should love 
these things, and count them precious ; and can you be as- 
tonished, can you ridicule or find fault that Jesus is precious 
to poor believers ? If the copy be so fair and lovely, who 
would not love the original, that has eyes to behold it ? Be- 
lievers see so much of the worth of Christ as is sufficient to 
captivate their hearts, and convince them of their guilt in 
loving him no more ; and the clearer their views are of him, 
the more are they mortified at the criminal defects of their 
love ; for 0, they see he deserves infinitely more. 

II. The Lord Jesus is precious in his offices. His me- 
diatorial office is generally subdivided into three parts : 



CHRIST PRECIOUri TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 5 

namely, that of a prophet, of a priest, and of a king ; and 
how precious is Christ in each of these. 

As a 'prophet, how sweet are his instructions to a bewil- 
dered soul. How precious the words of his lips, which are 
the words of eternal life. How delightful to sit and hear 
him teach the way of duty and happiness, revealing the 
Father, and the wonders of the invisible state. How trans- 
porting to hear him declare upon what terms an offended 
God may be reconciled — a discovery beyond the searches of 
all the sages and philosophers of the heathen world. How 
reviving is it to listen to his gracious promises and invita- 
tions to the poor, the weaiy, and heavy laden, the broken- 
hearted, and even to the chief of sinners. The word of Christ 
has been the treasure, the support, and joy of believers in all 
ages. " I have esteemed the words of his mouth," says Job, 
"more than my necessary food." Job 23:12. It is this 
precious Avord the psalmist so often and so highly celebrates. 
He celebrates it as " more to be desired than gold, yea, than 
much fine gold : sweeter also than honey and the honey- 
comb." Psa. 19 : 10. " how love I thy law I" says he ; 
" it is my meditation all the day." Psa. 119 : 97. ." How 
sweet are thy words unto my taste I yea, sweeter than hoiipy 
to my mouth," verse 103 ; " The law of thy mouth is bet- 
ter than thousands of gold and silver," verse 72 ; " Behold, 
I have longed after thy precepts," verse 40 ; " Thy statutes 
have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage," verse 
54 ; " In my affliction, thy word hath quickened me," verse 
50 ; " Unless thy law had been my delights, I should then 
have perished in mine affliction," verse 92. This is the 
language of David, in honor of this divine Prophet, near 
three thousand years ago, when Christ had not revealed the 
full Gospel to the world, but only some rays of it shone 
through the veil of the Mosaic dispensation. And must not 
believers now, who live under the more complete and clear 
instructions of this great Prophet, entertain the same senti- 
ments of him ? Yes, to such of you as beheve, even in this 
age, he is most precious. 

But this external objective instruction is not all that 



6 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

Christ as a prophet communicates ; and indeed, did he do 
no more than this, it would answer no valuable end. The 
mind of man, in his present fallen state, like a disordered 
eye, is incapable of perceiving divine things in a proper 
light, however clearly they are revealed ; and therefore, till 
the perceiving faculty be rectified, all external revelation is 
in vain, and is only like opening a fair prospect to a blind 
eye. Hence, this great Prophet carries his instructions far- 
ther, not only by proposing divine things in a clear objective 
light by his word, but inwardly enlightening the mind, and 
enabling it to perceive what is revealed by his Spirit. And 
how precious are these internal subjective instructions. How 
sweet to feel a disordered, dark mind opening to admit the 
shinings of heavenly day ; to perceive the glory of God in 
the face of Jesus Christ, the beauties of holiness, and the 
majestic wonders of the eternal world. Speak, ye that know 
by happy experience, and tell how precious Jesus appears to 
you, when by his own blessed Spirit he scatters the cloud 
that benighted your understandings, and lets in the rays of 
his glory upon your admiring souls ; when he opens your 
eyes to see the wonders contained in his law, and the glori- 
ous mysteries of his Gospel. What a divine glory then 
spreads upon every page of the sacred volume. Then it in- 
deed appears the book of God, godlike, and worthy its Au- 
thor. precious Jesus, let us all feel thine enlightening 
influences, that experience may teach us how sweet they 
are. Come, great Prophet, come, and make thine own 
Spirit our teacher, and then shall we be divinely wise.- 

Again, the Lord Jesus is precious to believers as a great 
High-jwiest. As a High-priest, he made a complete atone- 
ment for sin by his propitiatory sacrifice on the cross ; and 
he still makes intercession for the transgressors on his throne 
in heaven. It was his sacrifice that satisfied the demands 
of the law and justice of God, and rendered him reconcila- 
ble to the guilty, upon terms consistent with his honor and 
the rights of his government. It was by virtue of this sac- 
rifice that he procured pardon of sin, the favor of God, free- 
dom from hell, and eternal life for condemned obnoxious 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. '/ 

rebels. And you who have ever felt the pangs of a guilty 
conscience, and obtained relief from Jesus Christ, you can 
tell how precious is his atoning sacrifice. How did it ease 
your self-tormenting consciences, and heal your broken hearts. 
How did it change the frowns of an angiy God into smiles 
of love, and your trembling apprehensions of vengeance into 
delightful hopes of mercy. How precious did Jesus appear, 
with a pardon in his hand, with atoning blood gushing from 
his opened veins, and making his cross, as it were, the key 
to open the gates of heaven for your admission. Blessed 
Saviour, our great High-priest, thus appear to us in all thy 
pontifical robes, dyed in thine own blood, and cause us all 
to feel the efficacy of thy propitiation. 

Let us next turn our eyes upwards, and view this great 
High-priest as our Intercessor in the presence of God. There 
he appears as a Lamb that was slain, bearing the memorials 
of his sacrifice, and putting the Father in remembrance of 
the blessings purchased for his people. There he urges it as 
his pleasure, as his authoritative will, that these blessings 
should in due time be conferred upon those for whom they 
were purchased. Li this authoritative manner he could 
intercede, even in the days of his humiliation upon earth, 
because of the Father's covenant engagements with him, 
the accomplishment of which he has a right to demand, 
as well as humbly to petition : " Father, I will that they 
whom thou hast given me, be with me," etc. John 17 : 24. 
Now, how precious must Christ appear in the character of 
Intercessor. That the friendless sinner should have an all- 
prevailing Advocate in the court of heaven to undertake his 
cause ; that the great High-priest should ofier up the grate- 
ful incense of his own merit, with the prayers of the saints ; 
that he should add the sanction of his authoritative will to 
the humble petitions of faith ; that he should urge the claims 
of his people as his own claims, founded upon an unchange- 
able covenant with his Father, of which he has fully per- 
formed the conditions required ; that he should not intercede 
occasionally, but always appear in the holy of holies as the 
constant, ever-living Intercessor, and maintain the same in- 



8 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

terest, the same importunity at all times, even vv^lien the 
petitions of his people languish upon their lips — what de- 
lightful reflecticns are these ; and how warmly, may they 
recommend the Lord Jesus to the hearts of believers. How 
just is the apostle's inference : " Having a High-priest over 
the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart, in 
full assurance of faith ; and let us hold fast the profession of 
our faith without wavering." Heb. 10:21-23. "He is 
able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by 
him ;" for this reason, because "he ever liveth to make in- 
tercession for them." Heb. 7 : 25. May each of us intrust 
his cause to this all-prevailing Advocate, and we shall cer- 
tainly gain it. The unchangeable promise has passed his 
lips, that whatsoever we ask the Father in faith and in his 
name, he will give it us. John 16 : 23. 

Let me add, the kingly office of Christ is precious to be- 
lievers. As King, he gives laws — laws perfectly wise and 
good, and enforced with the most important sanctions, ever- 
lasting rewards and punishments. And how delightful, how 
advantageous, to live under such a government ; to have our 
duty discovered with so much clearness and certainty, which 
frees us from so many painful anxieties ; and to have such 
powerful motives to obedience, which have a tendency to 
infuse vigor and spirit into our endeavors. As King, he ap- 
points ordinances of worship. And how sweet to converse 
with him in these ordinances, and to be freed from perplexity 
about that manner of worship which God will accept, with- 
out being exposed to that question, so confounding to will- 
worshippers, Wlio hath required this at your ha?ids ? As 
Kkig, he is head over all things to his church, and manages 
the whole creation as is most subservient to her good. The 
various ranks of creatures in heaven, earth, and hell, are 
subject to his direction and control ; and they must all co- 
operate for the good of his people. He reclaims, confounds, 
subdues, or destroys their enemies, according to his pleasure. 
And how precious must he be in this august character to 
the feeble, helpless believer. To have an almighty Friend 
sitting at the helm of the universe, with the supreme man- 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 9 

agemcut of all things in his hands ; to be assured that even 
the most injurious enemy can do the beUever no real or last- 
ing injury, but shall at length concur to work his greatest 
good ; and that, come what will, it shall go well with him, 
and he shall at last be made triumphant over all difficulty 
and opposition — what transporting considerations are here. 
But this is not the whole exercise of the royal power of 
Christ. He not only makes laws and ordinances, and re- 
strains the enemies of his people, but he exercises his power 
inwardly upon their hearts. He is the King of souls ; he 
reigns in the hearts of his subjects ; and how infinitely dear 
and precious is he in this view. To feel him subdue the 
rebellion within, sweetly bending the stubborn heart into 
willing obedience, and reducing every thought into a cheer- 
ful captivity to himself, writing his law upon the heart, 
making the dispositions of his subjects a transcript of his 
will, corresponding to it like wax to the seal, how delightful 
is all this. the pleasures of humble submission. How 
pleasant to lie as subjects at the feet of this mediatorial King 
without arrogating the sovereignty to ourselves, for which 
Ave are utterly insufficient. Blessed Jesus, thus reign in our 
hearts ; thus subdue the nations to the obedience of faijth. 
" Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, most Mighty ; and in 
thy majesty ride prosperously, because of truth, and meek- 
ness, and righteousness." Psalm 45 : 3, 4. " Send the rod 
of thy strength out of Sion : rule thou in the midst of thine 
enemies," Psalm 110 : 2 ; rule us, and subdue the rebel in 
our hearts. 

Thus you see the Lord Jesus is precious to believers in 
all the views of his mediatorial office. But he is not pre- 
cious to them alone : he is beloved as far as known, and the 
more known the more beloved ; which leads me to add, 

ni. He is precious to all the angels of heaven. 

St. Peter tells us, that the things now reported to us by 
the Gospel are tilings which ilie angeh desire to look into. 
1 Pet. 1:12. Jesus is the wonder of angels now in heaven ; 
and he was so even when he appeared in the jorm of a ser- 
vant upon earth. St. Paul mentions it as one part of the 
VOL. xir. JU 



10 CHRIST PRF.nOUS TO ALL TRl^E RELIEVERS. 

great -mystery of godliness, that God manifested in the flesh 
uris seen of angels. 1 Tim. 3 : 16. Angels saw him and 
admired and loved him in the various stages of his life from 
his birth to his return to his native heaven. Hear the man 
ner in which angels celebrated his entrance into our world. 
One of them spread his wings and flew with joyful haste to 
a company of poor shepherds that kept their midnight watch 
in the field, and abruptly tells the news, of which his heart 
was full : " Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, 
which shall be to all people ; for to you is born this day, in 
the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord : and 
suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heav- 
enly host." Crowds of angels left their stations in the celes- 
tial court in that memorable hour, and hovered over the 
place where their incarnate God lay in a manger : Jesus, 
their darling, was gone down to earth, and they must follow 
him ; for who would not be where Jesus is ? Men, ungrate- 
ful men, were silent upon that occasion, but angels tuned 
their song of praise. The astonished shepherds heard them 
sing, " Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace : good- 
will to men." Luke 2 : 10-14. When he bringeth his first- 
born into the world, the Father saith, " Let all the angels of 
God worship him." Heb. 1 : 6. This seems to intimate that 
all the angels crowded round the manger where the infant 
God lay, and paid him their humble worship. We are told, 
that when the devil had finished his long process of tempta- 
tions, after forty days, and had left him, the " angels came 
and ministered unto him." Matt. 4:11. When this disa- 
greeable companion had left him, his old attendants were 
fond of renewing their service to him. In every hour of dif- 
ficulty they were ready to fly to his aid. He was seen of 
angels, in his hard conflict in the garden of Gethsemane ; 
and one of them " appeared unto him from heaven, strength- 
ening him." Luke 22 : 43. With what wonder, sympathy, 
and readiness did this angelic assistant raise his prostrate 
Lord from the cold ground, wipe ofi" his bloody sweat, and 
support his sinking spirit -with divine encouragements. But 
0. ye blessed angels, ye usual spectators and adorers of the 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 1 1 

divine glories of our R.edeemer, with what astonishment and 
horror were you struck when you saw him expire on the 
cross I 

" Around the bloody tree, 
Ye pressed with strong desire, 
That wondrous sight to see — 
The Lord of life expire ; 
And could your eyes 
Have known a tear. 
Had dropped it there 
In sad surprise." 

Ye also hovered round his tomb, while he lay in the 
prison of the grave. The weeping women and his other 
friends found you stationed there in their early impatient 
visits to the sepulchre. what wonders then appeared to 
your astonished minds. Could you that pry so deep into the 
secrets of heaven — you that know so well what divine love 
can do, could you have thought that even divine love could 
have gone so far ; could have laid the Lord of glory a pale, 
mangled, senseless corpse in the mansions of the dead ? Was 
not this a strange surprise even to you ? And when the 
appointed day began to dawn, with what eager and joyful 
haste did ye roll away the stone, and set open the prfson 
doors, that the rising Conqueror might march forth I 

'' And when arrayed in light. 
The shining Conqueror rode, 
Ye hailed his rapt'rous flight 
Up to the throne of God ; 

And waved around 

Your golden wings. 

And struck your strings 

Of sweetest sound."' 

"When he ascended on high, he was attended with '• the 
chariots of God, which are twenty thousand, even thousands 
of angels." Psalm 68 : 17, 18. And now, when he is 
returned to dwell among them, Jesus is still the darling of 
angels. His name sounds from alltheir harps, and his love 
is the subject of their everlasting song. St. John once heard 



12 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

them, and I hope we shall ere long hear them, saying with 
a loud voice, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive 
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and 
glory, and blessing." Rev. 5:11, 12. This is the song of 
angels, as well as of the redeemed from among men : 

" Jesus the Lord^ their harps employs^ 
Jesus, my love, they sing ; 
Jesus, the life of all our joys, 

Sounds sweet from every string.'' 

0, my brethren, could we see what is doing in heaven at 
this instant, how would it surprise, astonish, and confound 
us. Do you think the name of Jesus is of as little impor- 
tance there as in our world ? .Do you think there is one 
lukewarm or disaffected heart there among ten thousand 
times ten thousand of thousands of thousands ? 0, no ; there, 
his love is the ruling passion of every heart, and the favorite 
theme of every song. And is he so precious to angels — to 
angels, who are less interested in him, and less indebted to 
him ; and must he not be precious to poor believers bought 
with his blood, and entitled to life by his death ? Yes, you 
that believe have an angelic spirit in this respect ; you love 
Jesus, though unseen, as well as they who see him as he is, 
though alas, in a far less degree. But to bring his worth to 
the highest standard of all, I add, 

IV. He is infinitely precious to his Father, who thor- 
oughly knows him, and is an infallible judge of real worth. 
He proclaimed more than once from the excellent glory, 
" This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear 
ye him." " Behold," says he, " my servant, whom I uphold ; 
mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth." Isa. 42 : 1. He 
is called by the names of the tenderest endearment : his Son, 
his own Son, his dear Son^ the Son of his love. He is a 
stone, disallowed indeed of men : if their approbation were 
the true standard of merit, he must be looked upon as a very 
worthless, insignificant being, unworthy of their thoughts 
and affections. But let men form what estimate of him 
they please, he is chosen of God, and precious. And shall 



CHRIJ^T PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVER:^. 13 

• not the love of the omniscient God. have weight M'ith be- 
lievers to love him too ? Yes, the apostle expressly draws 
the consequence ; he is precious to God, therefore to you that 
believe he is precious. It is the characteristic of even the 
meanest believer, that he is godlike. He is a partaker of 
the divine nature, and therefore views things, in some meas- 
ure, as God does ; and is affected towards them as God is, 
though there be an infinite difference as to the degree. He 
prevailingly loves what God loves, and that because God 
loves it. 

And now, what think you of Christ ? Will you not 
think of him as believers do ? If so, he will be precious to 
your hearts above aU things for the future. Or if you disre- 
gard this standard of excellence, as being but the estimate 
of fallible creatures, will you not think of him as angels do — 
angels, those bright intelligences, to whom he reveals his 
unveiled glories, who are more capable of perceiving and 
judging of him, and who therefore must know him better 
than you — angels, who have had a long acquaintance with 
him at home, if I may so speak, for near six thousand years, 
as God, that is, ever since their creation, and for near two 
thousand years, as God-man ? Since angels, then, who know 
him so thoroughly, love him so highly, certainly you may 
safely venture to love him ; you might safely venture to love 
him implicitly, upon their word. He died for you, which is 
more than ever he did for them ; and will you not love him 
after all this love ? It is not the mode to think much of 
him in our world, but it is the mode in heaven. Yes, blessed 
be God, if he be despised and rejected of men, he is not de- 
spised and rejected of angels. Angels, that know him best, 
love him above all, and as far as their capacity will allow, 
do justice to his merit : and this is a very comfortable thought 
to a heart broken with a sense of the neglect and contempt 
he meets with among men. Blessed Jesus, may not one 
congregation be got together, even upon our guilty earth, 
that shall in this respect be like the angels, all lovers of 
thee ? why should this be impossible, while they are all 

VOL. XII. 31* 



14 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

SO much in need of thee, all so much obliged to thee, and 
thou art so lovely in thyself ? Why should he not be precious 
to every one of you, rich and poor, old and young, white and 
black ? What reason can any one of you give why you in 
particular should neglect him ? I am sure you can give 
none. And will you, without any reason, dissent from all 
the angels in heaven, in a point of which they must be the 
most competent judges ? Will you difier from them, and 
agree in your sentiments of Christ with the ghosts of hell, 
his implacable, but conquered and miserable enemies ? 

If all this has no weight with you, let me ask you far- 
ther. Will you not agree to that estimate of Jesus which his 
Father has of him ? Will you run counter to the supreme 
reason ? Will you set up yourselves as wiser than Omni- 
science ? How must Jehovah resent it, to see a worm on his 
footstool daring to despise Him whom he loves so highly. O 
let him be precious to you, because he is so to God, who 
knows him best. 

But I am shocked at my own attempt. precious Je- 
sus, are matters come to that pass in our world, that crea- 
tures bought with thy blood, creatures that owe all their 
hopes to thee, should stand in need of persuasions to love 
thee ? What horrors attend the thought. However, blessed 
be God, there are some, even among men, to whom he is 
precious. This world is not entirely peopled with the de- 
spisers of Christ. To as many of you as believe, he is pre- 
cious, though to none else. 

Would you know the reason of this ? I will tell you : 
none but believers have eyes to see his glory ; none but they 
are sensible of their need of him ; and none but they have 
learned from experience how precious he is. 

1 . None but believers have eyes to see the glory of Christ. 
As the knowledge of Christ is entirely from revelation, an 
avowed unbeliever who rejects that revelation, can have no 
right knowledge of him, and therefore must be entirely in- 
difierent towards him, as one unknown, or must despise and 
abhor him as an enthusiast or impostor. But one who is 
not an unbeliever in profession or speculation, may yet be 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERt^. 15 

destitute of that faith which constitutes a true believer, and 
which renders Jesus precious to the soul. Even devils are 
very orthodox in speculation ; devils believe and tremble ; 
and they could cry out, " What have we to do with thee, 
thou Jesus of Nazareth ? We know thee who thou art, 
the Holy One of God." Mark 1 : 24. And there are crowds 
among us who believe, after a fashion, that Christ is the 
true Messiah, who yet show by their practices that they neg- 
lect him in their hearts, and are not believers in the full 
import of the character. True faith includes not only a 
speculative knowledge and belief, but a clear, aflecting, real- 
izing view, and a hearty approbation of the things known 
and believed concerning Jesus Christ ; and such a view, 
such an approbation, cannot be produced by any human 
means, but only by the enlightening influence of the Holy 
Spirit shining into the heart. Without such a faith as this, 
the mind is all dark and blind as to the glory of Jesus Christ ; 
it can see no beauty in him, that he should be desired. Hon- 
orable and sublime speculations concerning him may hover 
in the understanding, and the tongue may pronounce many 
pompous panegyrics in his praise ; but the understanding has 
no realizing, atiecting views of his excellency, nor does ^the 
heart delight in him and love him as infinitely precious and 
lovely. The god of this world, the prince of darkness, has 
blinded the minds of them that believe not, lest the light of 
the glorious Gospel of Christ should shine into them. But 
as to the enlightened believer, God, who first commanded 
light to shine out of darkness, has shined into his heart, to 
give him the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in 
the face of Jesus Christ. This divine illumination pierces 
the cloud that obscured his understanding, and enables him 
to view the Lord Jesus in a strong and striking light — a light 
entirely difl^erent from that of the crowd around him — a light, 
in which it is .impossible to view this glorious object without 
loving him. A believer and an unbeliever may be equally 
orthodox in speculation, and have the same notions in theory 
concerning Jesus Christ ; and yet it is certainly true, that 
their views of him are vastly dilFerent. Believers, do you 



16 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

think, that if the Christ-despising multitude around you had 
the same views of his vi^orth and preciousness w^hich you 
have, they could neglect him as they do ? It is impossible. 
You could once neglect him as others do now ; you Avere no 
more charmed with his beauty than they. But 0, when 
you were brought out of darkness into God's marvellous light, 
when the glories of the neglected Saviour broke in upon yc^ur 
astonished minds, then was it possible for you to withhold 
your love from him ? Were not your hearts captivated with 
delightful violence ? You could no more resist. Did not 
your hearts then, as naturally and freely love him whom 
they had once rejected, as ever they loved a dear child or a 
Iriend, or the sweetest created enjoyment ? The improving 
your reason into faith is setting the disordered eye of the 
mind right, that it may be able to see this object : and when 
once you viewed it with this eye of reason restored and im- 
proved, how did the precious stone sparkle before you, and 
charm you with its brilliancy and excellence ? Christ is 
one of those things unseen and hoped for, of which St. Paul 
says, faitlb is the substcuice and evidence. Heb. 11:1. 
Faith gives Christ a present subsistence in the mind, not as 
a majestic phantom, but as the most glorious and important 
reality : and this faith is a clear, affecting demonstration, or 
conviction, of his existence, and of his being in reality what 
his word represents him. It is by such a faith, that is, un- 
der its habitual influence, that the believer lives ; and hence, 
while he lives, Jesus is still precious to him. 

2. None but believers are properly sensible of their need 
of Christ. They are deeply sensible of their ignorance and 
the disorder of their understanding, and therefore they are 
sensible of their want of both the external and internal in- 
structions of this divine Prophet. But as to others, they are 
puffed up with intellectual pride, and apprehend themselves 
in very little need of religious instructions ; and therefore 
they think but very slightly of him. Believers feel them- 
selves guilty, destitute of all righteousness; and incapable of 
making atonement for their sins, or recommending them- 
selves to Cod ; and therefore the satisfaction and righteous- 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVE?vf:. 1? 

ness of Jesus Christ are most precious to tliem, and they 
rejoice in him as their all-prevaihng Intercessor. But as to 
the unbeUeving crowd, they have no such mortifying thoughts 
of themselves ; they have so many excuses to make for their 
sins, that they bring down their guilt to a very trifling thing, 
hardly worthy of divine resentment ; and they magnify their 
good works to such a height, that they imagine they will 
nearly balance their bad, and procure them some iavor at 
least from Clod, and therefore they must look upon this High- 
priest as needless. They also love to be free from the re- 
straints of religion, and to have the command of themselves. 
They would usurp the power of self-government, and make 
their own pleasure their rule ; and therefore the Lord Jesus 
Christ, as a King, is so far from being precious, that he is 
very unacceptable to such obstinate, headstrong rebels. They 
choose to have no lawgiver but their own wills ; and there- 
fore they trample upon his laws, and, as it were, form insur- 
rections against his government. But the poor believer, 
sensible of his incapacity for self-government, loves to be 
under direction, and delights to feel the dependent, submis- 
sive, pliant spirit of a subject. He counts it a mercy not to 
have the management of himself, and feels his need of this 
mediatorial King to rule him. He hates the rebel within, 
hates every insurrection of sin, and longs to have it entirely 
subdued, and every thought, every motion of his soul brought 
into captivity to the obedience of Christ ; and therefore he 
feels the need of his royal power to make an entire conquest 
of his hostile spirit. His commands are not uneasy imposi- 
tions, but most acceptable and friendly directions to him ; 
and the prohibitions of his law are not painful restraints, but 
a kind of privileges in his esteem. The language of his 
heart is, " Precious Jesus, be thou my King. I love to live 
in humble subjection to thee. I would voluntarily submit 
myself to thy control and direction. Thy will, not mine, be 
done. subdue every rebellious principle within, and make 
me all resignation and cheerful obedience to thee." To such 
a soul, it is no wonder Jesus should be exceeding precious : 
but 0, how diflerent is this spirit from that which generally 



IS CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

prevails in the vi^orld. Let me add but one reason more why- 
Jesus is precious to behevers, and them only : namely, 

3. None but believers have known by experience how 
precious he is. They, and only they, can reflect upon the 
glorious views of him which themselves have had, to capti- 
vate their hearts for ever to him. They, and only they, 
have known what it is to feel a bleeding heart healed by his 
gentle hand, and a clamorous, languishing conscience paci- 
fied by his atoning blood. They, and only they, know by 
experience how sweet it is to feel his love shed abroad in 
their hearts, to feel a heart, ravished with his glory, pant, 
and long, and breathe after him, and exerting the various 
acts of faith, desire, joy, and hope towards him. They, and 
only they, know by experience how pleasant it is to converse 
with him in his ordinances, and to spend an hour of devo- 
tion in some retirement, as it were in his company. They, 
and only they, have experienced the exertions of his royal 
power, conquering their mightiest sins, and sweetly subduing 
them to himself. These are, in some measure, matters of 
experience with every true believer, and therefore it is no 
wonder Jesus should be precious to them. But as to the 
unbelieving multitude, poor creatures, they are entire stran- 
gers to these things. They may have some superficial no- 
tions of them floating in their heads, but they have never 
felt them in their hearts, and therefore the infinitely precious 
Lord Jesus is a worthless, insignificant being to them ; and 
thus, alas, it will be with the unhappy creatures, until expe- 
rience becomes their teacher — uatil they taste for themselves 
that the Lord is gracious. 1 Pet. 2 : 3. 

There is an interesting question, which, I doubt not, has 
risen in the minds of such as have attended to what has 
been said with a particular application to themselves, and 
keeps them in a painful suspense ; with an ansAver to which 
I shall conclude : " Am I indeed a true believer ; and is 
Christ precious to me ? My satisfaction in this sweet sub- 
ject is not complete, till this question is solved. Sometimes 
I humbly think the evidence is in my favor, and I begin to 
hope that he is indeed precious to my soul ; but alas, my 



CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 19 

love for him soon languishes, and then my doubts and fears 
return, and I know not what to do, nor what to think of 
myself" Do you not long to have this perplexing case 
cleared up ? what would you not give, if you might be 
fully satisfied in this point. Well, I would Avillingly help 
you, for experience has taught me to sympathize with you 
under this difficulty. my heart, how often hast thou been 
suspicious of thyself in this respect. The readiest way I 
can now take to clear up the matter is to answer another 
question, naturally resulting from my subject ; and that is, 
" How does that high esteem which a believer has for Jesus 
Christ discover itself? Or how does he show that Christ is 
indeed precious to him ?" I answer, he shows it in various 
ways ; particularly by his affectionate thoughts of him, 
which often rise in his mind, and always find welcome there. 
He discovers that Jesus is precious to him by hating and 
resisting whatever is displeasing to him, and by parting with 
every thing that comes in competition with him. He will 
let all go, rather than part with Christ. Honor, reputation, 
ease, riches, pleasure, and even life itself, are nothing to 
him in comparison with Christ ; and he will run the risk of all, 
nay, will actually lose all, if he may but win Christ. He 
discovers this high esteem for him by the pleasure he takes 
in feeling his heart suitably affected towards him, and by 
his uneasiness when it is otherwise. 0, when he can love 
Jesus, when his thoughts affectionately clasp around him, 
and when he has a heart to serve him, then he is happy, his 
soul is well, and he is lively and cheerful. But, alas, when 
it is otherwise with him, when his love languishes, when his 
heart hardens, when it becomes out of order for his service, 
then he grows uneasy and discontented, and cannot be at 
rest. When Jesus favors him with his gracious presence, 
and revives him with his influence, how does he rejoice. 
But when his Beloved withdraws himself and is gone, how 
does he lament his absence, and long for his return. He 
weeps and cries like a bereaved, deserted orphan, and moans 
like a loving turtledove in the absence of its mate. Because 
Christ is so precious to him, he cannot bear the thought of 



20 CHRIST TRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 

parting with him, and the least doubt of his love pierces his 
very heart. Because he loves him, he longs for the full en- 
joyment of him, and is ravished with the prospect of him. 
Because Christ is precious to him, his interests are so too, 
and he longs to see his kingdom flourish, and all' men fired 
with his love. Because he loves him, he loves his ordi- 
nances ; loves to hear, because it is the word of Jesus ; loves 
to pray, because it is maintaining intercourse with Jesus ; 
loves to sit at his table, because it is a memorial of Jesus ; 
and loves his people, because they love Jesus. Whatever 
has a relation to his precious Saviour, is for that reason pre- 
cious to him ; and when he feels any thing of a contrary 
disposition, alas, it grieves him, and makes him abhor him- 
self. These things are sufficient to show that the Lord 
Jesus has his heart, and is indeed precious to him ; and is 
not this the very picture of some trembling, doubting souls 
among you ? If it be, take courage. After so many vain 
searches, you have at length discovered the welcome secret, 
that Christ is indeed precious to you ; and if so, you may be 
sure that you are precious to him. " You shall be mine, 
saith the Lord, in the day that I make up my jewels." Mai. 
3 : 17. If you are now satisfied, after thorough trial of the 
case, retain your hope, and let not every discouraging ap- 
pearance renew your jealousies again ; labor to be steady 
and firm Christians, and do not stagger through unbelief 

But alas, I fear that many of you know nothing experi- 
mentally of the exercises of a believing heart, which I have 
been describing, and consequently that Christ is not precious 
to you. If this is the case, you may be sure indeed you are 
hateful to him. He is angry with the wicked every day. 
Those that honor him, he will honor ; but they that despise 
him shall be lightly esteemed. 1 Sam. 2 :30. And what 
will you do if Christ should become your enemy and fight 
against you ? If this precious stone should become a stone 
of stumbling and a rock of offence to you, over which you 
will fall into ruin, how dreadful must the fall be. AVhat 
must you expect but to lie down in unutterable and everlast- 
inof sorrow. 



mo. 514. 

PARDON 

FOR 

THE GREATEST SINNERS 

BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 



We find David, in one of his beautiful psalms, using this 
remarkable prayer : " For thy name's sake, Lord, par- 
don MINE INIQUITY ; FOR IT IS GREAT." Psalm 25 : 11. 

Observe, here, what arguments the psalmist makes use 
of in pleading for pardon. 

He pleads for pardon for GocVs name's, sake. He has no 
expectation of pardon for the sake of any righteousness or 
M'orthiness of his oAvn, for any good deeds he had done, or 
any compensation he had made for his sins ; though, if 
man's righteousness could be a just plea, David M^ould haye 
had as much to plead as most. But he begs that God would 
do it for his own name's sake, for his own glory, for the glory 
of his own free grace, and for the honor of his own covenant 
faithfulness. 

The psalmist pleads, also, the greatness of his sins as an 
argument for mercy. He not only does not plead his own 
righteousness, or the smallness of his sins ; he not only docs 
not say, " Pardon mine iniquity, for I have done much good 
to counterbalance it ;" or, " Pardon mine iniquity, for it is 
small, and thou hast no great reason to be angry with me ; 
mine iniquity is not so great, that thou hast any just cause 
to remember it' against me ; mine oflence is not such but 
that thou mayest well enough overlook it ;" but on the con- 
trary, he says, "■ Pardon mine iniquity ; for it is great :" ho 
pleads the greatness of his sin, and not the smallness of it ; 
VOT-. yiT. J^'2 



2 PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

he enforces his prayer with this consideration — that his sins 
are veiy heinous. 

But how could he make this a plea for pardon ? I an- 
swer, Because the greater his iniquity was, the more iieecl he 
had of pardon. It is as much as if he had said, " Pardon 
mine iniquity, for it is so great that I cannot bear the pun- 
ishment ; my sin is so great, that I am in necessity of par- 
don ; my case will be exceedingly miserable, unless thou be 
pleased to pardon me." He makes use of the greatness of 
his sin to enforce his plea for pardon, as a man would make 
use of the greatness of his calamity in begging for relief. 
When a beggar asks for bread, he will plead the greatness 
of his poverty and necessity. When a man in distress cries 
for pity, what more suitable plea can be urged than the ex- 
tremity of his case ?• And God allows such a plea as this ; 
for he is moved to mercy towards us by nothing in us but 
the miserableness of our case. He doth not pity sinners be- 
cause they are worthy, but because they need his mercy. 

Hence let us learn, that ir we truly come to God for 

MERCY, THE GREATNESS OP OUR, SIN WILL BE NO IMPEDIMENT 

TO PARDON. If it were an impediment, David would never 
have used it as a plea for pardon, as we find he does. Now 
there are several things necessary in order that we truly 
come to God for mercy : 

1 . We must see our misery, and he sensible of our need 
of onercy. Those who are not sensible of their misery, can- 
not truly look to God for mercy, .because the very notion of 
divine mercy is, that it is the goodness and grace of God to 
the miserable. Without misery in the object, there can be 
no exercise of mercy. To suppose mercy without supposing 
misery, or pity without calamity, is a contradiction ; there- 
fore, men cannot look upon themselves as proper objects of 
mercy, unless they first know themselves to be miserable ; 
and so, unless this be the case, it is impossible that they 
should come to God for mercy. They must be sensible that 
they are the children of wrath ; that the law is against 



PARDOX FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 3 

them, and that they are exposed to the curse of it ; that the 
wrath of God abideth on them, and that he is angry with 
them every day while they are under the guilt of sin. They 
must be sensible that it is a very dreadful thing to be the 
object of the wrath of God ; that it is a very awful thing to 
have him for their enemy, and that they cannot bear his 
wrath. They must be sensible that the guilt of sin makes 
them miserable creatures, whatever temjDoral enjoyments 
they have ; that they can be no other than miserable, un- 
done creatures, so long as God is angry with them ; that 
they are without strength, and must perish, and that eter- 
nally, unless God help them. They must see that their 
case is utterly desperate, for any thing that any one else can 
do for them ; that they hang over the pit of eternal misery, 
and that they must necessarily drop into it, if God have not 
mercy on them. 

2. We must be sensible that we are not u-orthy that 
God slioidd have mercy 07i us. Those who truly come to 
God for mercy, come as beggars, and not as creditors ; they 
come for mere mercy, for sovereign grace, and not for any 
thing that is due ; therefore, they must see that the misery 
under which they lie, is justly brought upon them ; that the 
wrath to which they are exposed, is justly threatened against 
them, and that they have deserved that God should be their 
enemy, and should continue to be their enemy. They must 
be sensible that it would be just for God to do as he hath 
threatened in his holy laAv, namely, make them the objects 
of his wrath and curse in hell to all eternity. Those who 
come to God for mercy in a right manner, are not disposed 
to charge him with severity ; but they come deeply feeling 
their own utter unworthiness, as with ropes about their 
necks, and lying in the dust at the footstool of mercy. 

3. We must come to God for mercy ill and through 
Jesus Christ alone. All our hope of mercy must be from 
the consideration of what he is, what he hath done, and 
what he hath sufiercd ; and that there is no other name 



4 PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

given under heaven, among men, whereby we can be saved, 
but that of Christ ; that he is the Son of God, and the Sav- 
iour of the world ; that his blood cleanses from all sin, and 
that he is so worthy, that all sinners who are in him may 
well be pardoned and accepted. It is impossible that any 
should come to G od for mercy, and at the same time have 
no hope of mercy. Their coming to God for it implies that 
they have some hope of obtaining it, otherwise they would 
not think it worth their while to come. But those who come 
in a right manner, have all their hope through Christ, or from 
the consideration of his redemption, and the sufficiency of it. 

If persons thus come to God for mercy, the greatness of 
their sins will be no impediment to pardon. Let their sins 
be ever so many, and great, and aggravated, God will not be 
in the least degree more backward to pardon them. This 
may be made evident by the following considerations : 

The mercy of God is as sufficient for the pardon of the 
greatest sins, as for the least, because his mercy is infinite. 
That which is infinite, is as much above what is great, as it 
is above what is small. One finite measure doth not come 
any nearer to the extent of what is infinite than another ; 
so the mercy of God being infinite, it must be as sufficient 
for the pardon of all sins as of one. If one of the least sins 
be not beyond the mercy of God, so neither are the greatest, 
nor ten thousand of them. 

However, it must be acknowledged, that this alone doth 
not prove the doctrine. For though the mercy of God may 
be as sufficient for the pardon of great sins as others, yet 
there may be other obstacles besides the want of mercy. 
The mercy of God may be sufficient, and yet his other attri- 
butes may oppose the dispensation of mercy in these cases. 
Therefore, I observe, 

That the satisfaction of Christ is as sufficient for the 
removal of the greatest guilt, as the least: "The blood of 
Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." 1 John, 1:7. " By him 
all that believe are justified. from all things, from which ye 



PARDON FUR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 5 

could not be justified by the law of Moses." Acts 13 : 39. 
All the sins of those who truly come to God for mercy, let 
them be what they may, are satisfied for, if God be true wdio 
tells us so ; and if they be satisfied for, surely it is not in- 
credible, that God should be ready to pardon them. So that 
Christ having fully satisfied for all sin, or having wrought 
out a satisfaction that is sufficient for all, it is now no way 
inconsistent with the glory of the divine attributes to pardon 
the greatest sins of those who in a right manner come unto 
him. God may now pardon the greatest sinners without any 
prejudice to the honor of his holiness. The holiness of God 
will not sutler him to give the least countenance to sin, but 
inclines him to give proper testimonies of his hatred of it. 
But Christ having satisfied for sin, God can now love the 
sinner, and give no countenance at all to sin, however great 
a sinner he may have been. It was a sufficient testimony 
of God's abhorrence of sin, that he poured* out his wrath on 
his own dear Son, when he took the guilt of it upon himself. 
Nothing can more show God's abhorrence of sin than this. 
If all mankind had been eternally damned, it would not 
have been so great a testimony of it. 

God may, through Christ, pardon the greatest sinner 
without any prejudice to the honor of his majesty. The 
honor of the divine majesty indeed requires satisfaction ; but 
the suflerings of Christ fully repaired the injury. Let the 
contempt be ever so great, yet if so honorable a person as 
Christ undertakes to be a Mediator for the offender, and suf- 
fers so much for him, it fully repairs the injury done to the 
Majesty of heaven and earth. The sufferings of Christ fully 
satisfied justice. The justice of God, as the supreme Gover- 
nor and Judge of the world, requires the punishment of sin. 
The supreme Judge must judge the world according to a 
rule of justice. God doth not show mercy as a judge, but 
as a sovereign ; therefore his exercise of mercy as a sover- 
eign, and his justice as a judge, must be made consistent one 
with the other ; and this is done by the sufferings of Christ, 
VOL. XII. 32* 



6 PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

in which sin is punished fully, and justice answered. " Whom- 
God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his 
blood, to declare his righteousness, that he might be just, and 
the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." E,om. 3 : 25, 
26. The law is no impediment in the way of the pardon of 
the greatest sin, if men do but truly come to God for mercy ; 
for Christ hath fulfilled the law, he hath borne the curse of 
it in his sufferings : " Christ hath redeemed us from the curse 
of the law, being made a curse for us ; for it is written, 
Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree." Gal. 3 : 13. 

Again, Christ will not refuse to save the greatest sinners, 
who in a right manner come to God for mercy ; for this is 
his li'ork. It is his business to be the Saviour of sinners ; it 
is the work upon which he came into the world ; and there- 
fore he will not object to it. He came not to call the right- 
eous, but sinners to repentance. Matt. 9:13. Sin is the very 
evil which he came into the world to remedy ; therefore he 
will not make it an objection to any man, that he is very sin- 
ful. The more sinful he is, the more need has he of Christ. 
The sinfulness of man was the reason of Christ's coming into 
the world ; this is the very misery from which he came to 
deliver men. The more they have of it, the more need they 
have of being delivered : " They that are whole need not a 
physician, but they that are sick." Matt. 9:12. The phy- 
sician will not make it an objection against healing a man 
who applies to him, that he stands in great need of his help. 
If a kind-hearted physician comes among the sick and 
wounded, surely he will not refuse to heal those that stand 
in most need of healing, if he be able to heal them. 

Still further, observe that the glory of grace by the re- 
demption of Christ much consists in this very thing, namely, 
in. its sufficiency for the pardon of the greatest sinners. The 
whole contrivance of the way of salvation is for this end, to 
glorify the free grace of God. God had it on his heart from 
all eternity to glorify this attribute ; and therefore it is, that 
the plan of saving sinners by Christ was conceived. The 



PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 7 

greatness of divine grace appears very much in this, that 
God by Christ saves the greatest offenders. The greater the 
guilt of any sinner is, the more glorious and w^onderful is the 
grace manifested in his pardon, " Where sin abounded, grace 
did much more abound." E-om. 5 : 20. The apostle, when 
telling how great a sinner he had been, takes notice of the 
abounding of divine grace in his pardon, of which his great 
guilt was the occasion. " Who was before a blasphemer, 
and a persecutor, and injurious : but I obtained mercy. And 
the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith 
and love which is in Christ Jesus." 1 Tim. 1 : 13, 14. The 
Redeemer is glorified in this, that he proves sufficient to re- 
deem those who are exceedingly sinful, that his blood proves 
sufficient to wash away the greatest guilt, that he is able to 
save men to the uttermost, and that he redeems even from 
the greatest misery. It is the honor of Christ to save the 
greatest sinners, when they come to him, as it is the honor 
of a physician, that he cures the most desperate diseases or 
wounds. Therefore, no doubt, Christ will be willing to save 
the greatest sinners, if they come to him ; for he will not be 
backward to glorify himself, and to commend the value and 
virtue of his own blood. Seeing he hath so laid out himself 
to redeem sinners, he will not be unwilling to show that he 
is able to redeem to the uttermost. 

Once more : pardon is as much offered and proinised to 
the greatest sinners, as it is to any, if they come aright to 
God for mercy. The invitations of the Gospel arc always in 
universal terms : " Ho, every one that thirsteth ;" " Come 
unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy laden ;" "Who- 
soever will, let him come." And the voice of wisdom is to 
men in general : " Unto you, men, I call, and my voice is 
to the sons of man." Prov. 8 : 4. Not to moral men, or relig- 
ious men, but to you, O men. So Christ promises : " Him 
that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." John 6 : 37. 
This is the direction of Christ to his apostles, after his resur- 
rection : "Go ye into all the Avorld, and preach the Gospel 



8 PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

to every creature : he that beHeveth and is baptized, shall 
be saved," Mark 16 : 15, 16 ; which is agreeable to what 
the apostle saith, that " the Gospel was preached to- every 
creature which is under heaven." Col. 1 : 23. 

Now the proper use of this subject is, to encourage sin- 
ners whose consciences are burdened with a sense of guilt, 
immediately to go to God through Christ for mercy. If you 
go in the manner we have described, the arms of mercy are 
open to embrace you. You need not be at all the more fear- 
ful of coming because of your sins, let them be ever so black. 
If you had as much guilt lying on your soul as all the wicked 
men in the world, and all the damned souls in hell, yet, if 
you come to God for mercy, sensible of your own vileness, 
and seeking pardon only through the free mercy of God in 
Christ, you need not be afraid — the greatness of your sins 
would be no impediment to your pardon. Therefore, if your 
souls be burdened, and you are distressed for fear of hell, you 
need not bear that burden and distress any longer. If you 
are but willing, you may freely come and unload yourselves, 
and cast all your burdens on Christ, and rest in him. 

I shall now reply to some objections, which some 
awakened sinners may be ready to make against what I 
have asserted. 

Some may be ready to object, " I have spent my youth, 
and all the best of my life in sin, and I am afraid God will 
not accept of me, when I ofier him only my old age.'' 

To this I would answer. Hath God said anywhere, that 
he will not accept of old sinners who come to him ? God 
hath often made oilers and promises in universal terms ; and 
is there any such exception put in ? Doth Christ say, " All 
that thirst, let them come to me and drink, except old sin- 
ners ? Come to me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
except old sinners, and I will give you rest ? Him that 
Cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out, if he be not an old 
sinner?" Did you ever read any such exception anywhere 



PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 9 

ill the Bible ? And why should you give way to exceptions 
which you make out of your own heads, or rather which the 
devil puts into your heads, and which have no foundation in 
the word of God ? Indeed, it is more rare that old sinners 
are willing to come, than that others are ; but if they do 
come, they are as readily accepted as any whatever. 

You entirely mistake the matter, in thinking that God 
will not accept of you because you are old ; as though he 
readily accepted of persons in their youth, because their 
youth is better worth his acceptance, or for the sake of the 
service which they are likely to do him afterwards ; whereas 
it is only for the sake of Jesus Christ, that God is willing to 
accept of any. 

You say, your life is almost spent, and you are afraid that 
the best time for serving God is past ; and that therefore God 
will not now accept of you ; as if it were for the sake of the 
service which persons are like to do him after they are con- 
verted, that he accepts of them. But a self-righteous spirit 
is at the bottom of such objections. Men cannot renounce 
the notion, that it is for some goodness or service of their 
own, either done or expected to be done, that God accepts 
of persons, and receives them into favor. It is true,* that 
those who deny God their youth, the best part of their lives, 
and spend it in the service of Satan, dreadfully sin, and pro- 
voke God ; and he very often leaves them to hardness of 
heart, when they are grown old. But if, when old, they 
are willing to accept of Christ, he is as ready to receive 
them as any others ; for in that matter God hath respect 
only to Christ and his worthiness. 

But perhaps you are ready to say, " I am afraid that I 
have committed si7is icliich arc iKculiar to reprobates,. I 
have sinned against light, and strong convictions of con- 
science ; I hfive sinned presumptuously, and have so resisted 
the strivings of the Spirit of God, that I am afraid I have 
committed such sins as none of God's elect ever commit. I 
cannot think that God would ever leave one whom he intends 



10 PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

to save, to go on and commit sins against so much light and • 
conviction." Others may say, " I have had risings of heart 
against God ; blasphemous thoughts ; a spiteful and mali- 
cious spirit ; and have abused mercy and the strivings of the 
Spirit, and trampled upon the Saviour, and my sins are such 
as are peculiar to those who are reprobated to eternal dam- 
nation." To all this I would answer, 

There is no sin peculiar to reprobates but the sin against 
the Holy Ghost. =^ Do you read of any other in the word of 
God ? And if you do not read of any there, what ground 
have you to think any such thing ? What other rule have 
we, by which to judge of such matters, but the divine word? 
If we venture to go beyond that, we shall be miserably in 
the dark. When we pretend to go further in our determina- 
tions than the word of God, Satan takes us up and leads us. 
It seems to you, that certain sins are peculiar to the repro- 
bate, and such as God never forgives. But what reason can 
you give for this opinion, if you have no word of God to re- 
veal it ? Is it because you cannot see how the mercy of God 
is sufficient to pardon, or the blood of Christ to cleanse from 
such presumptuous sins ? If so, it is because you never yet 
saw how great the mercy of God is ; you never saw the suffi- 
ciency of the blood of Christ, and you know not how far the 
virtue of it extends. 

Men may be less likely to believe, on account of the sins 
which they have committed, and yet be not the less readily 



lows : " With respect to dejected minds^ let it be observed, that 
no person, let his crimes have been what they may, if he be 
grieved at heart for having committed them, and sincerely ask 
forgiveness in the name of Christ, need fear that he shall be re- 
jected. Such grief is itself a proof, that he has not committed 
the sin against the Holy Spirit, because it is a mark of that sin 
to bo accompanied with a hard and impenitent heart. Such 
characters may feel the remorse of a Cain, a Saul, or a Judas; 
but a tear of godly sorrow never dropped from their eyes." 



FARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. H 

pardoned when they do beheve. It must be acknowledged, 
that some sinners are in more danger of hell than others. 
Though all are in great danger, some are less likely to be 
saved. Some are less likely ever to be converted, and to 
come to Christ ; but all who do come to him are alike readily 
accepted, and there is as much encouragement for one man 
to come to Christ as another. Such sins as you mention are 
indeed exceedingly heinous and provoking to God, and do in 
an especial manner bring the soul into danger of damnation, 
and into danger of being given up to final hardness of heart ; 
and God more commonly gives men up to the judgment of 
final hardness for such sins than for others. Yet they are 
not peculiar to reprobates ; there is but one sin that is so, 
namely, that against the Holy Ghost. And notwithstanding 
the sins which you have committed, if you can find it in 
your heart to come to Christ, and close with him, you will 
be accepted not at all the less readily because you have com- 
mitted such sins. Though God doth more rarely cause some 
sorts of sinners to come to Christ than others, it is not because 
his mercy or the redemption of Christ is not as sufficient for 
them as others, but because in wisdom he sees fit so to dis- 
pense his grace, for a restraint upon the wickedness of men ; 
and because it is his will to give converting grace in the use 
of means, among which this is one, namely, to lead a moral 
and religious life, agreeable to our light, and the convictions 
of our consciences. But when once any sinner is willing to 
come to Christ, mercy is as ready for him as for any. Let 
him have been ever so sinful, his sins are not remembered, 
God doth not upbraid him with them. 

"But had I not better stay till I shall have made 7nyself 
better, before I presume to come to Christ ? I have been, 
and see myself to be very wicked now ; but am in hopes of 
mending myself, and of rendering myself at least not so 
wicked ; then 1 shall have more courage to come to God for 
mercy." 

In answer to this, let me entreat you to consider how 



12 ■ PARDON FOR THE GREATEST SINNERS. 

unreasonably you act. You are striving to set up yourself 
for your own saviour ; you are striving to get something of 
your own, on account of which you may the more readily be 
accepted. So that by this it appears, that you do not seek 
to be accepted only on Christ's account. And is not this to 
rob Christ of the glory of being your only Saviour ? Yet 
this is the way in which you are hoping to make Christ 
willing to save you. 

Again, consider that you can never come to Christ at all, 
unless you first see that he will not accept of you the more 
readily for any thing that you can do. You must first see 
that it is utterly in vain for you to try to make yourself bet- 
ter on any such account. You must see that you can never 
make yourself any more worthy, or less unworthy, by any 
thing which you can perform. 

And if ever you truly come to Christ, you must see that 
there is enough in him for your pardon, though you be no 
better than you are. If you see not the sufficiency of Christ 
to pardon you, without any righteousness of your own to 
recommend you, you will never come so as to be accepted of 
him. The way to be accepted, is to come — not on any such 
encouragement, that now you have made yourself better, and 
more worthy, or less unworthy ; but solely on the encour- 
agement of Christ's worthiness, and God's mercy. 

Lastly, if ever you truly come to Christ, you must come 
to him to make you better. You must come as a patient 
comes to his physician, with his diseases or wounds to be 
cured. Spread all your wickedness before him, and do not 
plead your goodness, but plead your badness, and your great 
necessity on that very account ; and say, as the psalmist did — 
not, " Pardon mine iniquity ; for it is not so great as it was " — 
but, " Pardon mine iniquity ; for it is great." 



IVo. 515, 

NOVEL-READING. 



Few persons suspect how many novels are written, and 
printed, and sold. There are about five thousand five hun- 
dred ofiered for sale in this country. If a man were to read 
one a week for seventy-five years, he would not be through 
the list. There are, of course, many novel-readers. Some- 
thing on a great scale will be the result. AYhat will it be ; 
good or evil? Let us see. 

It is natural to inquire, Who Avrite novels ? A few pious 
persons have written works which are sometimes called novels. 
But they are too serious for the gay, and too gay for the seri- 
ous. So they are seldom read. Others are written by 
moral persons, who really seem anxious to teach some truth 
in an easy way. But nearly or quite all such are thought 
dull ; and so they lie, covered with dust, on the shelves of the 
bookseller, are sent to auction, and used as waste paper. The 
popular novels of our day are, to a great extent, written by 
men who are known to be lax in principle, and loose in life. 
England and France contain no men who are more free frgm 
the restraints of sound morality, than their leading novelists. 
They are literal and " literary debauchees." 

But do not novels contain many good things, which cannot 
be learned elsewhere ? I answer, they do not. It is con- 
fessed that they never teach science. It is no less true, that 
they pervert history, or supplant it by fiction. This is 
throughout true of Walter Scott, who has excelled all modern 
novelists in the charms of style. The literature of novels is 
commonly poor, and that of the best cannot compare with 
the standard English and French classics. Even Scott's 
best tales are intended to ridicule the best men, and to excuse 
or extol the worst men of their age. Like Hume, he was an 
apologist of tyrants, whose crimes ought to have taken away 
both their crowns and their lives. I beseech you not to read 
novels. I will give my reasons. 

1. Theiv gefteml tcmlency is to evil. They present vice 

and virtue in false colors. They dress up vice in gayety, 

mirth, and long success. They put virtue and piety in some 

odious or ridiculous posture. Suspicion, jealousy, pride, re- 

VOL. XII. 33 



2 NOVEL READING. 

venge, vanity, rivalries, resistance of the laws, rebellion 
against parents, theft, murder, suicide, and even piracy are 
so represented in novels as to diminish, if not to take away 
the horror which all the virtuous feel against these sins and 
crimes. Almost all that is shocking in vice is combined with 
some noble quality, so as to make the hero on the whole an 
attractive character. The thief, the pirate, and especially 
the rake, are often presented as successful, elegant; and happy. 
Novels abound in immodest and profane allusions or expres- 
sions. Wantonness, pride, anger, and unholy love, are the 
elements of most of them. They are full of exaggerations of 
men and things. They fill the mind with false estimates of 
human life. In them the romantic prevails over the real. 
A book of this sort is very dangerous to the young, for in them 
the imagination is already too powerful for the judgment. 

2. Novels beget a vain turn of mind. So true is this, 
that not one in a hundred of novel-readers is suspected, or is 
willing to be suspected of being devout. Who by reading a 
novel of the present day was ever inclined to prayer or praise ? 
Novel-reading is most unhappy in its effects on the female 
mind. It so unfits it for devotion, that even in the house of 
God levity or tedium commonly rules it. Thus practical 
atheism is engendered. The duties of life are serious and 
weighty. They whose trade it is to trifle and to nourish 
vanity, cannot be expected to be well-informed, or well-dis- 
posed respecting serious things. However much novel-read- 
ers may weep over fictitious misery, it is found that they 
generally have little or no sympathy with real sufiering. Did 
you never know a mother to send away a sick child, or a 
daughter to neglect a sick mother, for the purpose of finishing 
a novel ? If irreligion and' impiety do not flourish under 
such influences, efiects cannot be traced to causes. 

3. The price of these books is often low, yet the coit of 
them in a lifetime is very great. Miss W. borrowed some 
books, yet she paid seventy dollars in one year for novels 
alone. Doing this for fifteen years, she would spend one 
thousand and fifty dollars. Yet her nephews and nieces 
were growing up without an education. Mrs. L. stinted her 
family in groceries, that she might have a new novel every 
month. Mr. C. pleaded want of means to aid the orphan 
asylum, yet he paid more than sixty dollars a year for novels 
for his daughters. Novels have, in the last five years, cost 



NOVEL READING. 3 

the people of the United States from twelve to fifteen millions 
of dollars. For one, they have paid thirty thousand dollars. 
This waste is wanton. No good is received in return. 

4. Novel-reading is a great icaste of time — time, 

That stuff that life is made of, 

And which, when lost, is never lost alone, 

Because it carries souls upon its wings. 

Nothing is so valuable as that which is of great use, yet 
cannot be bought with any thing else. We must have time 
to think calmly and maturely of a thousand things, to im- 
prove our minds, to acquire the knowledge of God, and to 
perform many pressing duties. The business of life is to act 
well our part here, and prepare for that solemn exchange of 
worlds which awaits us. He whose time is spent without 
economy and wasted on trifles, will awake and find himself 
undone, and will " mourn at the last, when his flesh and his 
body are consumed, and say, How have I hated instruction, 
and my heart despised reproof I" 

5. The effects of novel-reading on inorah are disastrous. 
Many young offenders are made so by the wretched tales 
which now abound. In one city, in less than three months, 
three youths were convicted of crimes committed in imitation 
of the hero of a novel. Here is a court of justice in session. 
Blood has been shed. Men are on trial for their lives. All 
the parties involved are intelligent and wealthy. The com- 
munity is excited. Crowds throng the court-room from day 
to day. The papers are filled with the letters which led to 
the tragical end of one, and the misery of many. The whole 
scene is painful in the highest degree. Among the witnesses 
is one of manly form, polished manners, and hoary locks. 
Even the stranger does him reverence. His country has 
honored him. He must testify, and so sure as he does, he 
will tell the truth ; for he has honor, and blood is concerned. 
He says. The husband of my daughter was " kind, honorable, 
and ailectionate," and " if my daughter has been in an un- 
happy state of mind, I attribute it to the impure works of 
Eugene Sue and Bulwer." All these cases have been judi- 
cially investigated and published to the world. They have 
filled many a virtuous mind with horror, and every judicious 
parent with concern. 

Nor is novel-reading a wholesome recreation. It is not 



4 NOVEL-READING. 

a recreation at all. It is an ensnaring and engrossing- occu- 
pation. Once begin a novel, and husband, children, prayer, 
filial duties, are esteemed trifles until it is finished. The end 
of the story is the charm. Who reads a novel a second time ? 

Some say, Others do it, and so may we. But others are 
no law to us. The prevalence of an evil renders it the more 
binding on us to resist the current. 

Novel-reading makes none wiser, or better, or happier. 
In life it helps none. In death it soothes none, but fills many 
with poignant regrets. At the bar of God, no man will 
doubt that madness was in his heart, when he could thus 
kill time and vitiate his principles. I add, 

1. Parents, know what books your children read. If 
there were not a novel on earth, you still should select their 
reading. Leave not such a matter to chance, to giddiness, 
or vice. Give your children good books. A bad book is 
poison. If you love misery, furnish novels to your children. 

2. Young people, be warned in time. Many, as unsus- 
pecting as you, have been ruined. Be not rebellious, to your 
own undoing. Listen to the voice of kindness, which says, 
Beware, beware of novels. 

3. Pastors, see that you do all in your power to break up 
a practice which will ruin your young people, and render 
your ministry fruitless. I was shocked when I heard of one 
of you recommending a novel which exposed the arts of the 
Jesuits. The Jesuits are indeed bad, but not worse than Sue. 

4. Booksellers, let me say a word. A young man, with 
a hurried manner, entered a druggist's shop and asked for an 
ounce of laudanum. It was refused. He went to another 
and got it, and next morning was a corpse. Which of these 
druggists acted right ? You sell poison when you sell novels. 
They kill souls. You sell for gain. "Woe to him that 
coveteth an evil covetousness to his house, that he may set 
his nest on high, that he may be delivered from the power 
of evil ! Thou hast consulted shame to thy house by cutting 
ofTmany people, and hast sinned against thy soul. For the 
stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the 
timber shall answer it." You may make money by depraving 
the public morals, but for all these things God will bring you 
into judgment. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



J\o. .'SI 6. 

MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

BY REV. JOHN M. MASON, D. D. 

PREACHED BEFORE THE LONDON MISSIONARY SOCIETY, 1802. 



THY THRONE, O GOD, IS FOR EVER AND EVER. Hebrews 1:8. 

In the all-important argument which occupies this epis- 
tle, Paul assumes, what the believing Hebrews had already- 
professed, that Jesus of Nazareth is the true Messiah. To 
prepare them for the consequences of their own principle — 
a principle involving nothing less than the abolition of their 
law, the subversion of their state, the ruin of their city, the 
final extinction of their carnal hopes — he leads them to 
the doctrine of their Redeemer's person, in order to explain 
the nature of his offices, to evince the value of his spiritiTal 
salvation, and to show, in both, the accomplishment of their 
economy which was now " ready to vanish away." Under 
no apprehension of betraying the unwary into idolatrous 
homage, by giving to the Lord Jesus greater glory than is 
due unto his name, the apostle sets out with ascribing to 
him excellence and attributes which belong to no creature. 
Creatures of most elevated rank are introduced ; but it is to 
display, by contrast, the preeminence of Him who is "the 
brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of 
his person," Angels are great in might and in dignity ; but 
" unto them hath he not put in subjection the world to 
come. Unto v^-hich of them said he, at any time. Thou art 
my son ?" To which of them, " Sit thou at my right hand." 
He saith they are spirits, " ministering spirits, sent forth to 
minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation. But unto 
THE Son," in a style which annihilates competition and com- 
voL. XII. 33=^ 



2 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

parison — "-unto the Son, he saith, Thy throne, God, is for 
ever and ever.'" 

Brethren, if the majesty of Jesus is the subject which 
the Holy Ghost selected lor the encouragement and consola- 
tion of his people, when he was shaking the earth and the 
heavens, and diffusing his gospel among the nations, can it 
be otherwise than suitable and precious to us on this occa- 
sion ? Shall it not expand our views, and warm our hearts, 
and nerve our arm in our efforts to exalt his fame ? Let me 
implore, then, the aid of your prayers, but far more impor- 
tunately the aids of his own Spirit, while I speak of the 
things which concern the King : those great things con- 
tained in the text — his personal glor}'' — ^his sovereign rule. 

I. His PERSONAL GLORY shiucs forth in the name by 
which he is revealed ; a name above every name : " Thy 
throne, God." 

To the single eye nothing can be more evident, in the 

First place, than that the Holy Ghost here asserts the 
essential deity of our Lord Jesus Christ. Of his enemies, 
whom he will make his footstool, some have, indeed, con- 
troverted this position, and endeavored to blot out the text 
from the catalogue of his witnesses. Listead of " thy throne, 
God," they would compel us, by a perversion of phrase- 
ology, of figure, and of sense, to read, " God is thy throne;" 
converting the great and dreadful God into a symbol of au- 
thority in one of his own creatures. The Scriptures, it 
seems, may utter contradictions or impiety, but the divinity 
of the Son they shall not attest. The crown, however, 
which " flourishes on his head," is not to be torn away, nor 
the anchor of our hope to be wrested from us, by the rude 
hand of licentious criticism. 

I cannot find, in the lively oracles, a single distinctive 
mark of deity which is not applied, without reserve or lim- 
itation, to the only begotten Son. All things whatsoever 
the Father hath, are his. Who is that mysterious Word, 
that Avas, " in the beginning, with God ?" Who is the 
" Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, the first 



MErSlAirS THRONE. 3 

and the last, the Almighty?" Who is he that "knows 
what is in man," because he searches the deep and dark 
recesses of the heart ? Who is the Omnipresent, that has 
promised, " Wherever two or three are gathered together in 
my name, there am I in the midst of them ;" the light of 
whose countenance is, at the same moment, the joy of heaven 
and the salvation of earth ; who is encircled by the seraphim 
on high, and " walks in the midst of the golden candlesticks ;" 
who is in this assembly, in all the assemblies of his people, 
in every worshipping family, in every closet of prayer, in 
every holy heart ? " Whose hands have stretched out the 
heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth ?" Who hath 
replenished them wdth inhabitants, and garnished them wdth 
beauty, having created all things that are in both, " visible 
and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or 
principalities, or powers ?" By whom do " all things con- 
sist?" Who is the Governor among the nations, "having 
on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of 
KINGS, AND Lord of lords ?" Whom is it the Father's will 
that "all men should honor even as they honor himself?" 
Whom has he commanded his angels to w^orship, whom to 
obey ? Before whom do the devils tremble ? Who is qual- 
ified to redeem millions of sinners from the wrath to come, 
and preserve them, by his grace, to his everlasting king- 
dom ? Who raiseth the dead, " having life in himself, to 
quicken whom he will," so that at his voice, " all who are 
in their graves shall come forth," and death and hell sur- 
render their numerous and forgotten captives ? Who shall 
weigh, in the balance of judgment, the destinies of angels 
and men, dispose of the thrones of paradise, and bestow 
eternal life ? Shall I submit to the decision of reason ? 
Shall I ask a response from heaven ? Shall I summon the 
devils from their chains of darkness ? The response from 
heaven sounds in my ears, reason approves, and the devils 
confess : This, Christians, is none other than the great 
God our Saviour. 

Indeed, my brethren, the doctrine of our Lord's divinity 



4 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

is not, as a fact, more interesting to our faith, than, as a 
lorinciple, it is essential to our hope. If he were not the 
true God, he could not be eternal life. When pressed down 
by guilt, and languishing for happiness, I look around for a 
deliverer, such as my conscience, and my heart, and the 
word of God assure me I need, insult not my agony by di- 
recting me to a creature — to a man, a mere man like myself 
A creature — a man I My Redeemer owns my person. My 
immortal spirit is his lyroperty. When I come to die, I 
must commit it into his hands. My soul, my infinitely 
precious soul committed to a mere man, become the property 
of a mere man I I would not thus intrust my body to the 
highest angel who burns in the temple above. It is only 
the Father of sinrits that can have 2^^'operty in spirits, and 
be their refuge in the hour of transition from the present to 
the approaching world. In short, my brethren, the divinity 
of Jesus is, in the system of grace, the sun to which all its 
parts are subordinate, and all their stations refer ; which 
binds them in sacred concord, and imparts to them their 
radiance, and life, and vigor. Take from it this central lumi- 
nary, and the glory is departed ; its holy harmonies are bro- 
ken ; the elements rush to chaos ; the light of salvation is 
extinguished for ever. 

But it is not the deity of the Son, simply considered, to 
which the text confines our attention. We are, in the 

Second place, to contemplate it as subsisting in a per- 
sonal union with the human nature. 

Long before this epistle was written had he "by himself 
purged our sins, and sat down at the right hand of the 
Majesty on high." It is, therefore, as " God manifested in 
the flesh ;" as my own brother, while he is the express image 
of the Father's person ; as the Mediator of the new cove- 
nant, that he is seated on the throne. Of this throile, to 
which the pretensions of a creature were mad and blas- 
phemous, the majesty is, indeed, maintained by his divine 
power ; but the foundation is laid in his mediatorial charac- 
ter. I need not prove to this audience, that all his gracious 



MESSIAH'S THRONE. 5 

offices and all his redeeming work originated in the love and 
the election of his Father. Obedient to that will, which 
fally accorded with his own, he came down from heaven ; 
tabernacled in our clay ; was a man of sorrows, and ac- 
quainted with griefs ; submitted to the contradictions of sin- 
ners, the temptations of the old serpent, and the wrath of 
an avenging God. In the merit of his obedience, which 
threw a lustre round the divine law, and in the atonement 
of his death, by which " he offered himself a sacrifice with- 
out spot unto God," repairing the injuries of man's rebellion, 
expiating sin through the blood of his cross, and conciliating 
its pardon with infinite purity and unalterable truth : sum- 
marily, in his performing those conditions on which were 
suspended all God's mercy to man and all man's enjoyment 
of God — in these stupendous "works of righteousness" are 
we to look for the cause of his present glory. " He humbled 
himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of 
the cross ; wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and 
given him a name which is above every name ; that at 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." Exalted thus to be a Prince and 
a Saviour, he fills heaven with his beauty, and obtains from 
its blest inhabitants the purest and most reverential praise. 
"Worthy," cry the mingled voices of his angels and his 
redeemed, " worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive 
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, 
and glory, and blessing." " Worthy," again cry his re- 
deemed, in a song which belongs not to the angels, but in 
which, with holy ecstasy, we will join, " worthy art thou, 
for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy 
blood." 

Delightful, brethren, transcendently delightful were it to 
dwell upon this theme. But we must refrain ; and having 
taken a transient glance at our Redeemer's personal glory, 
let us turn to the 



6 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

II. View which the text exhibits — the view of his sove- 
reign RULE : " Thy throne, God, is for ever and ever." 

The mediatorial kingdom of Christ Jesus, directed and 
upheld by his divinity, is now the object of our contempla- 
tion. To advance Jehovah's glory in the salvation of men, 
is the purpose of its erection. Though earth is the scene, 
and human life the limit, of those great operations by which 
they are interested in its mercies and prepared for its con- 
summation, its principles, its provisions, its issues, are eternal. 
When it rises up before us in all its grandeur of design, col- 
lecting and conducting to the heavens of God millions of 
immortals, in comparison vf'ith the least of whom the de- 
struction of the material universe were a thing of naught, 
whatever the carnal mind calls vast and magnificent shrinks 
away into nothing. 

But it is not so much the nature of Messiah's kingdom 
on which I am to insist, as its stability, its administration, 
and the 'prospects which they open to the church of God. 

Messiah's throne is not one of those airy fabrics which 
are reared by vanity and overthrown by time : it is fixed of 
old ; it is stable, and cannot be shaken, for, 

1. It is the throne of God. He who sitteth on it is the 
Omnipotent. Universal being is in his hand. Revolution, 
force, fear, as applied to his kingdom, are words without 
meaning. Rise up in rebellion, if thou hast courage. As- 
sociate with thee the whole mass of infernal power. Begin 
with the ruin of whatever is fair and good in this little 
globe. Pass hence to pluck the sun out of his place, and 
roll the volume of desolation through the starry world. 
What hast thou done unto him ? It is the puny menace of 
a worm against Him whose frown is perdition. " He that 
sitteth in the heavens shall laugh." 

2. With the stability which Messiah's Godhead commu- 
nicates to his throne, let us connect the stability resulting 
from his Father's covenant. 

His throne is founded not merely in strength, but in 



MEPSIAH'S TFIRONE. 7 

-right. God hath laid the government upon the shoulder of 
his holy child Jesus, and set him upon mount Zion as his 
king for ever. He has promised, and sworn, to build up his 
throne to all generations ; to make it endure as the days of 
heaven ; to beat down his foes before his face, and plague 
them that hate him. " But my faithfulness," adds he, 
" and my mercy shall be with him, and in my name shall 
his horn be exalted. Hath he said it, and will he not do 
it? Hath he spoken it, and shall it not come to pass?" 
Whatever disappointments rebuke the visionary projects of 
men, or the more crafty schemes of Satan, "the counsel of 
the Lord, that shall stand." The blood of sprinkling, which 
sealed all the promises made to Messiah, and binds down 
his Father's faithfulness to their accomplishment, witnesses 
continually in the heavenly sanctuary. " He must," there- 
fore, " reign till he have put all his enemies under his feet." 
And although the dispensation of his authority shall, upon 
this event, be changed, and he shall deliver it up, in its 
present form, to the Father, he shall still remain, in his sub- 
stantial glory, a Priest upon his throne, to be the eternal 
bond of our union, and the eternal medium of our fellow- 
ship with the living God. 

Seeing that the throne of our King is as immovable as 
it is exalted, let us Math joy draw water out of that well of 
salvation which is opened to us in the administration of his 
kingdom. Here we must consider its general characters, and 
the means by which it operates. 

The general characters, which I shall illustrate are the 
following : 

1. Mystery. He is the unsearchable God, and his gov- 
ernment must be like himself. Facts concerning both, he 
has graciously revealed. These we must admit upon the 
credit of his own testimony ; with these we must satisfy our 
wishes, and limit our inquiry. To intrude into those things 
which he hath not seen because God has not disclosed them, 
whether they relate to his arrangements for this world or 



8 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

the next, is the arrogance of one vainly puffed up by his 
fleshly mind. There are secrets in our Lord's procedure 
which he will not explain to us in this life, and which may 
not, perhaps, be explained in the life to come. We cannot 
tell how he makes evil the' minister of good ; how he com- 
bines physical and moral agencies of diflerent kind and order, 
in the production of blessings. We cannot so much as con- 
jecture what bearings the system of redemption, in every 
part of its process, may have upon the relations of the uni- 
verse ; nor even what may be all the connections of provi- 
dence in the occurrences of this moment, or of the last. 
Such knowledge is too wonderful for us : it is high, we can- 
not attain it. Our Sovereign's " way is in the sea, and his 
path in the deep waters ; and his footsteps are not known." 
When, therefore, we are surrounded with difficulty, when 
we cannot unriddle his conduct in particular dispensations, 
we must remember that he is God — that we are to " walk 
by faith ;" and to trust him as implicitly when we are in 
the valley of the shadow of death, as when his candle shines 
upon our heads. We must remember, that it is not for us to 
be admitted into the cabinet of the King of kings ; that 
creatures constituted as we are could not sustain the view 
of his unveiled agency ; that it would confound, and scatter, 
and annihilate our little intellects. As often, then, as he 
retires from our observation, blending goodness with maj- 
esty, let us lay our hands upon our mouths and worship. 
This stateliness of our King can afford us no just ground of 
uneasiness. On the contrary, it contributes to our tranquil- 
lity ; for we know, 

2. That if his administration is mysterious, it is also 
wise. " Great is our Lord, and of great power ; his under- 
standing is infinite." That infinite understanding watches 
over, and arranges, and directs all the afiairs of his church 
and of the world. We are perplexed at every step, embar- 
rassed by opposition, lost in confusion, fretted by disappoint- 
ment, and ready to conclude, in our haste, that all things 
are against our own good and our Master's honor. But 



MEJ5?IAH'3 THRONE. 9 

-" tills is our infirmity ;" it is the dictate of impatience and 
indiscretion. AYe forget the " years of the right hand of the 
Most High." We are slow of heart in learning a lesson 
which shall soothe our spirits at the expense of our pride. 
AYe turn away from the consolation to be derived from be- 
lieving that though we know not the connections and results 
of holy providence, our Lord Jesus knows them perfectly. 
With him there is no irregularity, no chance, no conjecture. 
Disposed before his eye in the most luminous and exquisite 
order, the whole series of events occupy the very place and 
crisis where they are most eflectually to subserve the pur- 
poses of his love. Not a moment of time is wasted, nor a 
fragment of action misapplied. What he does, we do not 
indeed know at present, but, as far as we shall be permitted 
to know hereafter, we shall see that his most inscrutable 
procedure was guided by consummate wisdom ; that our 
choice was often as foolish as our petulance was provoking ; 
that the success of our own wishes would have been our 
most painful chastisement, would have diminished our hap- 
piness, and detracted from his praise. Let us study, there- 
fore, brethren, to subject our ignorance to his knowledge ; 
instead of prescribing, to obey ; instead of questioning, to 
believe : to perform our part without that despondency 
which betrays a fear that our Lord may neglect his, and 
tacitly accuses him of a less concern than we feel for the 
glory of his own name. Let us not shrink from this duty as 
imposing too rigorous a condition upon our obedience, for a 

Third character of Messiah's administration is righteous- 
ness. " The sceptre of his kingdom is a right sceptre." If 
"clouds and darkness are around about him, righteousness 
and judgment are the habitation of his throne." In the 
times of old, his redeemed " wandered in the wilderness in 
a solitary M^ay ; but, nevertheless, he led them forth by the 
right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." He 
loves his church and the members of it too tenderly to lay 
upon them any burdens, or expose theni to any trials, which 
are not indispensable to their good. It is right for them to 
VOL. XII. 34 



10 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

go through fire and through water, that he may bring them 
out into a wealthy place — right to endure chastening, that 
they may be partakers of his holiness — right to have the 
sentence of death in themselves, that they may trust in the 
living God, and that his strength may be perfect in their 
weakness. It is right that he should endure with much 
long suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction ; that 
he should permit iniquity to abound, the love of many to 
wax cold, and the dangers of his church to accumulate, till 
the interposition of his arm be necessary and decisive. In 
the day of final retribution, not one mouth shall be opened 
to complain of injustice. It will be seen, that the Judge of 
all the earth has done right ; that the works of his hands 
have been verity and judgment, and done, every one of 
them, in truth and uprightness. Let us, then, think not 
only respectfully but reverently of his dispensations, repress 
the voice of murmur, and rebuke the spirit of discontent ; 
wait, in faith and patience, till he become his own inter- 
preter, when " the heavens shall declare his righteousness, 
and all the people see his glory." 

You will anticipate me in enumerating the mean?, which 
Messiah employs in the administration of his kingdom. 

1 . The Goqjel, of which himself, as an all-sufficient and 
condescending Saviour, is the great and affecting theme. 
Derided by the world, it is, nevertheless, efiectual to the 
salvation of them who believe. " We preach Christ cruci- 
fied : to the Jews a stumbling-block, and to the Gr reeks 
foolishness ; but to them who are called, both Jews and 
Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God." 
The doctrine of the cross connected with evangelical ordi- 
nances — the ministry of reconciliation ; the holy Sabbath ; 
the sacraments of his covenant : briefly, the whole system 
of instituted worship — is the rod of the Redeemer s strengtli, 
by which he subdues sinners to himself, rules even in the 
midst of his enemies, exercises his glorious authority in his 
church, and exhibits a visible proof to men and angels that 
he is Kino- in Zion. 



MESSIAFi'S THRONE. 11 

2. The efficient means to which the Gospel owes its suc- 
cess, and the name of Jesus its praise, is, the agency of the 
Holy Ghost. 

Christianity is the miniUration of the Spirit. All real 
and sanctifying knowledge of the truth and love of God is 
from his inspiration. It was the last and best promise 
which the Saviour made to his afflicted disciples at the mo- 
ment of parting, " I will send the Comforter, the Spirit of 
truth ; he shall glorify me, for he shall take of mine and 
shall show it unto you." It is he who convinces the world 
of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment ; who infuses re- 
sistless vigor into means otherwise weak and useless. For 
the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty 
through God, God the Spirit, to the pulling down of strong 
holds. Without his benediction, the ministry of an arch- 
angel would never convert one sinner from the error of his 
way. But when he descends, with his life-giving influence 
from God out of heaven, then " foolish things of the world 
confound the wise ; and weak things of the world confound 
the things which are mighty ; and base things of the world, 
and things which are despised, yea, and things which arc 
not, bring to naught things which are." It is this ministra- 
tion of the Spirit which renders the preaching of the Gospel 
to men dead in trespasses and sins a reasonable service. 
When I am set down in the valley of vision, and view the 
bones, very many and very dry, and am desired to try the 
eflect of my own ability in recalling them to life, I will fold 
my hands and stand mute in astonishment and despair. 
But when the Lord God commands me to speak in his name, 
my closed lips shall be opened : when he calls upon the 
breath from the four winds to breathe upon the slain that 
they may live, I will prophesy without fear, "0 ye dry 
bones, hear the word of the Lord ;" and, obedient to his voice, 
they shall come together, bone to his bone — shall be covered 
with sinews and flesh — shall receive new life, and stand up 
upon their feet, an exceeding great army. In this manner, 
from the graves of nature, and the dry bones of natural 



12 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

men, does the Holy Spirit recruit the " armies of the living 
God," and make them, collectively and individually, a name, 
and a praise, and a glory, to the Captain of their salvation. 

3. Among the instruments which the Lord .Jesus em- 
ploys in the administration of his government, are the re- 
sources of the physical and moral ivorld. 

Supreme in heaven and in earth, " upholding all things 
by the word of his power," the universe is his magazine of 
means. Nothing which acts or exists, is exempted from pro- 
moting in its own place the purposes of his kingdom. Beings 
rational and irrational, animate and inanimate; the heav- 
ens above, and the earth below ; the obedience of sanctified, 
and the disobedience of unsanctified men ; all holy spirits ; 
all damned spirits : in one word, every agency, every ele- 
ment, every atom, are but the ministers of his will, and con- 
cur in the execution of his designs. And this he will de- 
monstrate to the confusion of his enemies, and the joy of his 
people, in that great and terrible day when he shall sit upon 
the throne of his glory, and dispense ultimate judgment to 
the quick and the dead. 

Upon these hills of holiness, the stability of Messiah's 
throne, and the perfect administration of his kingdom, let 
us take our station, and survey the prospects which rise up 
before the church of God. 

"When I look upon the magnificent scene, I cannot repress 
the salutation, " Hail, thou that art highly favored I" She 
has the prospect of j)reservation, of increase, and of triumph. 

1. The prospect of iireservation. 

The long existence of the Christian church would be 
pronounced, upon common principles of reasoning, impossi- 
ble. She finds in every man a natural and inveterate enemy. 
To encounter and overcome the unanimous hostility of the 
world, she boasts no political stratagem, no disciplined le- 
gions, ho outward coercion of any kind. Yet her expectation 
is, that she shall live for ever. To mock this hope, and blot 
out her memorial from under heaven, the most furious eiibrts 



MESSIAH'S THRONE. 13 

-of fanaticism, the most ingenious arts of statesmen, the con- 
centrated strength of empires, have been frequently and per- 
severingly applied. The blood of her sons and her daugh- 
ters has streamed like water ; the smoke of the scaffold and 
the stake, where they won the crown of martyrdom in the 
cause of Jesus, has ascended in thick volumes to the skies. 
The tribes of persecutors have sported over her woes, and 
erected monuments, as they imagined, of her perpetual ruin. 
But where are her tyrants, and where their empires ? The 
tyrants have long since gone to their own place ; their names 
have descended upon the roll of infamy ; their empires 'have 
passed, like shadoM^s over the rock — they have successively 
disappeared, and left not a trace behind. 

But what became of the Church ? She rose from her 
ashes fresh in beauty and in might. Celestial glory beamed 
around her ; she dashed down the monumental marble of 
her foes, and they who hated her fled before her. She has 
celebrated the funeral of kings and kingdoms that plotted 
her destruction ; and, with the inscriptions of their pride, 
has transmitted to posterity the record of their shame. How 
shall this phenomenon be explained ? We are, at the pres- 
ent moment, witnesses of the fact ; but who can unfold the 
mystery ? This blessed book, the book of truth and life, has 
made our wonder to cease. The Lord her God in the 
MIDST OF HER IS MIGHTY. His presence is a fountain of 
health, and his protection a ivall of fire. He has betrothed 
her, in eternal covenant, to himself. Her living Head, in 
whom she lives, is above, and his quickening Spirit shall 
never depart from her. Armed with divine virtue, his 
Gospel, secret, silent, unobserved, enters the hearts of men 
and sets up an everlasting kingdom. It eludes all the vigi- 
lance, and baffles all the power of the adversary. Bars, and 
bolts, and dungeons are no obstacle to its approach. Bonds, 
and tortures, and death cannot extinguish its influence. Let 
no man's heart tremble then because of fear. Let no man 
despair, in these days of rebuke and blasphemy, of the Chris- 
tian cause. The ark is launched, indeed, upon the floods; 
VOL. xri. 34* 



14 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

the tempest sweeps along the deep ; the billows break over 
her on every side. But Jehovah- Jesus has promised to con- 
duct her in safety to the haven of peace. She cannot be 
lost unless the Pilot perish. Why, then, do the heathen 
rage, and the people imagine a vain thing ? Hear, Zion, 
the word of thy God, and rejoice for the consolation. " No 
weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper, and every 
tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt 
condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, 
and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord." Mere 
preservation, however, though a most comfortable, is not the 
only hope of the church ; she has 

2. The prospect of increase. 

Licrease — from an effectual blessing upon the means of 
grace in places where they are already enjoyed ; for thus 
saith the Lord, " I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, 
and floods upon the dry ground : I will pour my Spirit upon 
thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring ; and they 
shall spring up as among the grass, as willows by the water- 
courses." 

Increase — from the diffusion of evangelical truth through 
pagan lands. " For behold, the darkness shall cover the 
earth, and gross darkness the people ; but the Lord shall 
arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. And 
the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the bright- 
ness of thy rising. Lift up thine eyes round about, and see : 
all they gather themselves together, they come to thee : thy 
sons shall come from far, and thy daughters shall be nursed 
at thy side. Then thou shalt see, and flow together, and 
thy heart shall fear, and be enlarged ; because the abun- 
dance of the sea shall be converted unto thee, the forces of 
the Gentiles shall come unto thee." 

Increase — from the recovery of the rejected Jews to the 
faith and privileges of God's dear children. Blindness in 
part has happened unto Israel ; they have been cut off, for 
their unbelief, from the olive-tree. Age has followed age, 
and they remain to this hour, spread over the face of the 



MEScilAH'S TllROXE. 15 

. earth, a fearful and afiecting- testimony to the truth of God's 
word. They are without their sanctuary, without their 
Messiah, without the hope of their beheving ancestors. But 
it shall not be always thus. They are still " beloved for the 
fathers' sake." When the "fulness of the Gentiles shall 
come in," they too shall be gathered. They shall discover, 
in our Jesus, the marks of the promised Messiah ; and with 
tenderness proportioned to their former insensibility, shall 
cling to his cross. Grafted again into their own olive-tree, 
all Israel shall be saved. It was through their fall that 
salvation came unto us Gentiles. And " if the casting 
away of them be the reconciling of the world, what shall 
the receiving of them be but life from the dead ?" What 
ecstasy, my brethren I the Gentile and the Jew taking sweet 
counsel together, and going to the house of God in company : 
the path of the swift messenger of grace marked, in every 
direction, by the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of 
Christ — a nation born at once — the children of Zion ex- 
claiming, " The place is too strait for me : give place to me, 
that I may dwell;" the knowledge of Jehovah overspread- 
ing the earth as the waters cover the sea ; and all flesh 
enjoying the salvation of God. This faith ushers in a 

Third prospect of the church — the prospect of triiDnph. 

Though often desolate and afflicted, tossed with tempest 
and not comforted, the Lord her God will then make her 
"an eternal excellency," and repay her sorrows with tri- 
umph. 

Triumph — in complete victory over the enemies who 
sought her hurt. " The nation and kingdom," saith the 
Lord, " that will not serve thee shafl perish ; yea, those 
nations shall be utterly wasted. The sons also of them that 
afflicted thee shall come bending imto thee ; and all they 
that despised thee shall bow themselves down at the soles 
of thy feet ; and they shall call thee. The city of the Lord, 
the Zion of the Holy One of Israel." That great enemy of 
her purity and her peace, who shed the blood of her saints 
and her prophets, the Man of Sin, " who has exalted him- 



X6 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

self above all that is called God," shall appear, in the whole 
horror of his doom as the " son of perdition, whom the Lord 
shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy 
with the brightness of his coming." The terrible but joyous 
event shall be announced by an angel from heaven crying 
mightily with a strong voice, " Babylon the great is fallen, 
is fallen I" "Alleluia," shall be the response of the church 
universal : " Salvation, and glory, and honor, and power, 
mito the Lord our God ; for true and righteous are his judg- 
ments ; for he hath judged the great whore, which did cor- 
rupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the 
blood of his servants at her hand." Then too, the accuser 
of the brethren, that old serpent which is the devil, shall 
be cast down, and bound a thousand years, that he shall 
deceive the nations no more. This will introduce the 
church's 

Triumph — in the prevalence of righteousness and peace 
throughout the world. 

Her people shall be all righteous. The voice of the 
blasphemer shall no longer insult her ear. Iniquity, as 
ashamed, shall stop its mouth and hide its head. All her 
officers shall be peace, and all her exactors righteousness. 
The kings of the earth, bringing their glory and honor unto 
her, shall accomplish the gracious promise : " The moun- 
tains shall bring peace to the people, and the little hills by 
righteousness." Her Prince, whose throne is for ever and 
ever, " shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke 
many people ; and they shall beat their swords into plough- 
shares, and their spears into pruning-hooks : nation shall not 
lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war 
any more." Every man shall meet, in every other man, a 
brother without dissimulation. Fear and the sword shall 
be far away : " they shall sit every man under his vine, and 
under his fig-tree, and none shall make them afraid." For 
thus saith the Lord, " Yiolence shall no more be heard in thy 
land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders ; but thou 
shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise." 



MESc^lAH'S THRONE. 17 

Triumph — in the presence of God, in the communion of 
his love, and the signal manifestation of his glory. " Be- 
hold, the tahernacle of God shall be with men, and he will 
dwell with them, and they shall be his people ; and God 
himself shall be with them, and be their God." Then shall 
be seen the holy Jerusalem descending out of heaven from 
God, which " shall have no need of the sun, neither of the 
moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God shall lighten it, 
and the Lamb shall be the light thereof. And the nations 
of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it ; and 
they shall bring the gloiy and honor of the nations into it ; 
and there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that de- 
fileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh 
a lie ; but they which are written in the Lamb's book of 
life."' 

Such, according to the sure word of prophecy, will be 
the triumphs of Christianity ; and to this issue all scriptural 
efforts to evangelize the heathen contribute their share. 
That mind is profane, indeed, which repels the sentiment of 
awe ; and hard is the heart which feels no bland emotion. 
But let us pause. You exult, perhaps, in the view of that 
happiness which is reserved for the human race ; you long 
for its arrival, and are eager, in your place, to help on the 
gracious Avork. It is well. But are there no heathen 
among us ? Are there none who, in the midst of their zeal 
for foreign missions, forget their own souls ; nor consider 
that they themselves neglect the great salvatio7i ? Re- 
member, that a man may be active in measures which 
shall subserve the conversion of others, and yet perish in 
his own iniquity. That very gospel which you desire to 
send to the heathen, must be the gospel of your salvation ; 
it must turn you from darkness to light, from the power of 
Satan unto God ; it must make you meet for the inheritance 
of the saints, or it shall fearfully aggravate your condemna- 
tion at last. You pray, " Thy kingdom come." But is the 
" kingdom of God within you ?" Is the Lord Jesus " in you 
the hope of glory ?" Be not deceived. The na?ne of Chris- 



18 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

tian will not save you. Better had it been for you not to 
have known the way of righteousness ; better to have been 
the most idolatrous pagan ; better, infinitely better, not to 
have been born, than to die strangers to the pardon of the 
Redeemer's blood, and the sanctifying virtue of his Spirit. 
From his throne on high he calls — calls to you, " Look unto 
me, and be ye saved ; for I am God, and there is none else. 
Seek ye the Lord while he may be found ; call ye upon 
him while he is near : let the wicked forsake his way, and 
the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto 
the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our 
God, for he will abundantly pardon." 

On the other hand, such as have fled for refuge to lay 
hold on the hope set before them, are commanded to he joy- 
ful in their King. He reigns, believer, for thee. The 
stability of his throne is thy safety. The administration of 
his government is for thy good ; and the precious pledge 
is, that he "will perfect that which concerneth thee." In 
all thy troubles, and in all thy joy, commit thy way unto 
him. He will guard the sacred deposit. Fear not that thou 
shalt lack any good thing. Fear not that thou shalt be 
forsaken. Fear not that thou shalt fall beneath the arm of 
the oppressor. " He went through the fires of the pit to 
save thee ; and he will stake all the glories of his crown to 
kee}) thee." Sing, then, thou beloved, " Behold, God is my 
salvation ; I will trust, and not be afraid ; for the Lord 
Jehovah is my strength and my song ; he also is become 
my salvation." 

And if we have " tasted that he is gracious ;" if we 
look back with horror and transport upon the wretchedness 
and the wrath which we have escaped, with what anxiety 
shall we not hasten to the aid of our fellow-men, who are 
sitting in " the region and shadow of death." What zeal 
will be too ardent, what labor too persevering, what sacri- 
fice too costly, if, by any means, we may tell them of Jesus, 
and the resurrection, and the life eternal ? Who shall be 
daunted by difficulties, or deterred by discouragement ? It 



MESSIAH'S THRONE. 19 

biit one pagan should be brought, savingly, by your instru- 
mentality, to the knowledge of God, and the kingdom of 
heaven, will you not have an ample recompense ? Is there 
here a man who would give up all for lost because some 
favorite hope has been disappointed, or who regrets the 
worldly substance which he has expended on so divine an. 
enterprise ? Shame on thy coward spirit and thine avari- 
cious heart. Do the holy Scriptures, does the experience of 
ages, does the nature of things justify the expectation, that 
we shall carry war into the central regions of delusion and 
crime, without opposition, without trial ? Show me a plan 
which encounters not fierce resistance from the prince of 
darkness and his allies in the human heart, and I will show 
you a plan which never came from the inspiration of God. 
If missionary effort suffer occasional embarrassment ; if im- 
pressions on the heathen be less speedy, and powerful, and 
extensive, than fond wishes have anticipated ; if particular 
parts of the great system of operation be, at times, discon- 
certed ; if any of the ministers of grace fall a sacrifice to 
the violence of those whom they go to bless in the name of 
the Lord — these are events which ought to exercise our faith 
and patience, to wean us from self-sufficiency, to teach us 
where our strength lies, and where our dependence must be 
fixed ; but not to enfeeble hope, nor relax diligence. Let us 
not " despise the day of small things." Let us not overlook, 
as an unimportant matter, the very existc?ice of that mis- 
sionary spirit which has already awakened Christians in 
different countries from their long and dishonorable slum- 
bers, and bids fair to produce, in due season, a general inove- 
tnent of the church upon earth. Let us not, for one instant, 
harbor the ungracious thought, that the prayers, and tears, 
and wrestlings of those who make mention of the Lord, 
form no link in that vast chain of events by which he "will 
establish, and will make Jerusalem a praise in the earth." 
That dispensation which is most repulsive to flesh and blood, 
the violent death of faithful missionaries, should animate 
Christians with new resolution. " Precious in the sight of 



20 MESSIAH'S THRONE. 

tlie Lord is the death of his saints." The cry of martyred 
blood ascends the heavens ; it enters into the ears of the 
Lord of Sabaoth. It will give him no rest till he rain down 
righteousness upon the land where it has been shed, and 
which it has sealed as a future conquest for Him who " in 
his majesty rides prosperously because of truth, and meek- 
ness, and righteousness." 

For the world, indeed, and perhaps for the church, many 
calamities and trials are in store, before the glory of the Lord 
shall be so revealed that all flesh shall see it together. " I 
will shake all nations," is the divine declaration — " I will 
shake all nations, and the Desire of all nations shall come." 
The vials of wrath which are now running, and others 
which remain to be poured out, must be exhausted. The 
''supper of the great God" must be prepared, and his 
" strange work" have its course. Yet the missionary cause 
must ultimately succeed. It is the cause of God, and shall 
prevail. The days, brethren, roll rapidly on, when the 
shout of the isles shall sw-ell the thunder of the continent ; 
when the Thames and the Danube, when the Tiber and the 
Rhine, shall call upon Euphrates, the Ganges, and the Nile ; 
and the loud concert shall be joined by the Hudson, the 
Mississippi, and the Amazon, singing with one heart and 
one voice, Alleluia, salvation ! The Lord God omnipotent 
reigneth. 

Comfort one another with this faith, and with these 
words. 

Now, " Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who 
only doeth wondrous things. And blessed be his glorious 
name for ever : let the whole earth be fh^led with his 
GLORY. Amen and Amen." 



No. 5 1 7. 

THE 



SUBSTANCE OF THE GOSPEL, 

BY REV. RALPH WARDLAW, D. D., 

GLASGOW. 



What a happy thing it is, that the Gospel comes into 
so little compass. Often have I felt this when visiting the 
sick and the dying. When I have found the mind incapable 
of vigorous, expansive, or continuous thought, how thank- 
ful have I been that the Gospel is so short and so simple ; 
that the elementary truths, which give peace to the con- 
science and hope to the heart, can be stated in so few words. 
There is divine wisdom and divine kindness in this. There 
are short sentences which contain essentially all that a sinner 
needs to know, to give him a sense of pardon and confidence 
towards God. " The wages of sin is death ; but the gift ot 
God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord." " This 
is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ 
Jesus came into the world to save sinners — even the chief." 
" This is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life ; 
and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son, hath life ; 
he that hath not the Son of God, hath not life." These, aiid 
others of a like description, are precious sentences. These 
are what the dying " man of God," Dr. M'All, so emphati- 
cally denominated the core, the very core of the Gospel. 
And if even a mind like his, of such penetration, amplitude, 
and energy, was Iain to have recourse to the core of the Gos- 
pel, and " could not now trouble itself with its envelop- 
ments," how invaluable the fact that the Gospel has a core, 
has simple elements, that constitute its essence, which are 
easy to be understood, and enough to be the soul's food and 
life, independently of tliose kindred doctrines which, though 
in close association with it, are not indispensable to its appre- 
hension — are its envelopments, not itself. What a ground 
of gratitude this, when connected with the declaration, " To 
the poor the Gospel is preached." 

Connected with this is the striking fact, that in the hour 
which is sure and common to all, the hour of nature's last 
VOL. XTT. 35 



2 THE SUBSTANCE OF THE GOSPEL. 

conflict and most pressing exigency, the hour when the mind 
is shut up to one point, and that point peace with God and 
hope for eternity, that in that hour all mhtds come to be so 
very much on a level, in regard to what imparts their confi- 
dence. It is the same truth, in all its simplicity-, that gives 
it to the greatest as well as to the least, and to the least as 
well as to the greatest. It is most instructive and interest- 
ing to see how minds of the largest grasp and mightiest* 
power, when they come to this hour of trial and of fi.nal decis- 
ion, when passing through the valley of the shadow of death, 
anticipating eternity, and confl.icting singlehanded with the 
last enemy, have recourse to the same simple elements of 
divine truth that are the springs of peace to the very weak- 
est of the "babes in Christ." 

I have been struck with this, in the biographies of some 
of the most distinguished of our modern divines. Look to 
the terms in which they express the ground of their everlast- 
ing hopes. Although, from previously knowing the charac- 
ter of their minds, you of course conceive thoughts of a higher 
order associated with those terms, and although at times 
there may be coruscations of brilliant sentiment emitted, 
that indicate the undying light within, yet substantially they 
are the very same in which " poor Joseph" expressed the 
ground of his : " ' It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all 
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
sinners;' and why not Joseph ?"=^ "What dying sinner can 
say more ? I mean not, that the minds are equal, that were 
folly ; but that, as the greatest and the least stand on the 
same ground of condemnation, they must stand also on the 
same ground of acceptance ; so that he who has traversed 
the whole round of theological learning, has explored its 
depths, and scaled its heights, has argued with metaphysical 
acumen, and illustrated with matchless eloquence all its 
points, has read and has written volumes upon volumes, 
when he comes to the test of a dying hour, is shut up to all 
the simplicity of the "faithful saying." This is what he 
needs, equally with the least ; and this is what the least, 
equally with him, enjoys. And the perfectly childlike sub- 
missiveness with which master-minds in Israel have avouched 
their reliance on the most rudimental elements of the truth, 

* See the simple and afTeeting Tract. No. 68. 



THE gUBSTAxNCE OF THE. C;USPEL. 3 

•is among the marks of its divinity. It shoAvs that, in the 
one point of need, in which all are alike, and which, in all 
cases equally, the Gospel is intended to meet, the adaptation 
of means to the end is perfect. 

It is a fact not less extraordinary, and not less pregnant 
with evidence of the divine origin of the Gospel, that it 
never yet has had a}iy one, in the hour of dissolution, re- 
2ienting of having trusted to it. I call attention to the 
fact. The Gospel is the only system of which this can be 
affirmed ; and the fact is without exception. I am in the 
full recollection, when I say so, of the many believers who 
have passed through the valley of the shadow of death in 
mental depression and gloom, and whose fears have encom- 
passed them even to the last. But these are not exceptions 
to the fact ; they are confirmations of it. For, whence has 
the gloom of these believers arisen ? What has drawn the 
cloud over their souls ? What has engendered their fears ? 
Has it been any question, starting up witliin them, of the 
solidity of the gospel foundation of hope ? Any doubt of 
its being trustworthy ? Any conviction, or even any sus- 
picion, forced upon them in this testing-time of human con- 
fidences, of its being, after all, not rock, as they had fancied, 
but sand, a delusion, a " refuge of lies ?" The very reverse. 
Their doubts have not been about it, but about themselves. 
The question has not been about the security of the founda- 
tion, but about the fact of their having built upon it ; not 
about the sufficiency of Christ, but about the reality of tKeir 
interest in him ; not about the soundness of the hope, but 
about their scriptural warrant to entertain it. That is a 
very different matter. So far from repenting in the end 
their having trusted to the Gospel, their bitter regrets, and 
their heartsinking fears are all about the reality of their 
trust. Their hearts misgive them, whether under the mor- 
bid operation of physical causes, or obscurity in their views 
of truth, when they think of their past profession. They 
fear, they fear that they may have been self deceived, fan- 
cying themselves Christ's, when they were "none of his." 
But regrets, lamentations, anxieties, and fears, springing 
from such sources, bear testimony, not against the Gospel, 
but for it. I .ask for an instance of any individual, in per- 
fect possession of his mental powers, unafiected by any morbid 
hallucinations, and in the full prospect of death, expressing 



4 THE SUBSTANCE OF THE GOSPEL. 

regret for the folly, or repentance for the sin of having be- 
lieved and followed Christ ; disow^ning the foundation on 
w^hich he has rested through life, as now seen in the search- 
ing light of its closing hour, to he false and unstable. 

Infidelity, and every system of human framing, have 
had their thousands who have renounced them at death. 
How comes it that the Gospel has had none ? If it were 
itself human, how should it have this extraordinary distinc- 
tion from all else that is humxin ? Many are the schemes 
with which men have made shift to live, but which have 
misgiven them when they have come to die. The last ene- 
my is a ruthless inquisitor. Many a time has he shown 
what a power he possesses of detecting to the mind the 
sophistries by which it had flattered itself in error, and of 
exposing to the conscience the flimsiness of it favorite refuges. 
Even in the valley of the shadow of death, there is often a 
revealing light, which compels the sinner to see what he 
had been shutting his eyes against before, and awakens him 
to a late and appalling sense of his infatuation. How comes 
it, then, that to no one mind has death, in the hour of his 
dread inquisition, ever made the discovery of the insuffi- 
ciency and delusiveness of the Gospel ? How comes it that 
of this foundation the hollo wness, the unsoundness, the sandy 
instability, has never been exposed, and he who has trusted 
to it been convinced too late of his folly ? Is there not 
something extraordinary in this ? That of all systems this 
should be the only one that has stood the scrutiny of death, 
and the test of anticipated judgment ? Let the infidel 
account for it. To me it appears as the seal of the God of 
heaven to his own truth ; evincing its divine adaptation to 
all our nature's consciousnesses, and to all our nature's exi- 
gencies, and peculiarly in the hour of that nature's extrem- 
ity. It proves itself, in this unvarying experience, to have 
proceeded from Him who " knoweth what is in man." 

Had I ten thousand gifts beside, 
I'd cleave to Jesus crucified^ 

And build on him alone ; 
For no foundation is there given, 
On which I'd place my hopes of heaven, 

But Christ the corner-stone. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 518. 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST, 



" Wherefore," says the apostle Paul, to the Hebrews, 
"He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come 
unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession 
for them." Heb. 7 : 25. It is of Jesus, the great High- 
priest after the order of Melchisedec, that these words are 
spoken. It is He who is the " Surety of the better covenant." 
Heb. 7 : 22. It is He who hath the " unchangeable priest- 
hood." Heb. 7 : 24. It is He who, having " ofiered one 
sacrifice for sins, for ever sat down on the right hand of God." 
Heb. 10 : 12. He, therefore, is a Saviour to the uttermost ; 
and this, not only because of wliat he did on earth for the 
putting away of sin, but because of ichat he is now doing in 
heaven as an ever-living intercessor, carrying into effect that 
glorious work which he completed on the cross. It is in the 
knowledge of this Saviour that we have eternal life. Let us 
then inquire what God has taught us in these words concern- 
ing him. And may the Holy Spirit testify of him to us, 
enlightening the eyes of our understanding, that we may 
know the things that are freely given to us of God. 

I. Christ is A Saviour. "He is able to save." It was 
on this account, that he is described by the prophet Isaiah, 
chap. 63 : 1, as "mighty to save f' and for this he was 
named Jesus, because " he shall save his people from their 
sins." Matt. 1 : 21. This was the purpose for which he 
was sent : "The Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of 
the world." 1 John, 4 : 14. This was the errand which 
he fulfilled : " The Son of man is come to save that which 
was lost." Matt. 18 : 11. It was for this that he spoke to 
the people when on earth : " These things I say, that ye 
VOL. XII. 35* 



2 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

might be saved. '' John 5 : 34. . For this he was horn, for 
this he Uved, for this he died, for this he rose again, for this 
he ascended up on high : " Him hath God exalted to be a 
Prince and a Saviour." Acts 5:31. And from what 
does he save ? He saves from sin, from guilt, from wrath, 
from the curse, from a present evil world, from hell, from 
Satan himself From all these he is a Saviour, a complete 
Saviour, the only Saviour ; a Saviour not for those who de- 
serve salvation, but for those who need it. 
But hoiD is he thus " able to save ?" 

1. Because he is God — the Lord God Almighty, of 
whom, and through whom, and to whom are all things. All 
authority and dominion are his ; all power either to save or 
to destroy. 

2. He is " able to save," because he is the God-man, 
God manifest in the flesh, Immanuel, God with us ; and 
thus he has all power, created and uncreated, human and 
divine, finite and infinite, centred in himself Who could 
be more able to be a Saviour than he who is God ; and who 
could be more suitable to be our Saviour than he who is 
bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, our kinsman, and our 
brother? Heb. 2 : 14-18. 

3. He is " able to save," because of the ivork which he 
has done, by coming into our place, taking upon him our 
responsibilities, and bearing our sins. It was not mere 
poiver, though infmite, that could save us. It must be power 
put forth in a righteous way. And until there was a right- 
eous way opened for its exercise, it could do nothing for 
our salvation. Therefore it is in liis work, that his great 
power and strength as the Saviour may be said to lie ; for 
had there been no sacrifice or atonement, not even an infinite 
arm could have saved us. As long as infinite righteousness 
was against us, it was in vain though infinite power were 
for us. But Christ's atoning work has brought infinite 
power, and righteousness, and holiness, as well as infinite 
love and grace, all over to the same side. None of these 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOs?T. 3 

are against us now. Our salvation is in full accordance 
with them all. Through the " blood of his cross" he has 
made reconciliation for iniquity, and on that cross provided 
a place where God and the sinner may meet in peace. He 
has taken out of the way that which hindered God from 
having any dealings with us ; and thus it is now as righteous 
and glorious a thing in God to imrdon, as before it was to 
jmnish transgressors. He has magnified the law, and made 
it honorable, Isaiah 42 : 21 ; so that the dishonor we had 
done to that law by our disobedience, is far more than made 
up by the glory which he has put upon it, through his per- 
fect and divine obedience. Christ's work is thus a full 
treasure-house of every thing the sinner can need or desire. 
In it there is full provision for pardon, for cleansing, for renew- 
ing, for eternal life, for holiness, for complete restoration to 
the image, the character, the kingdom of God, and to every 
blessing included in the term salvation : that is, to the com- 
plete reversal of, and deliverance from every thing which 
made us lost, and the full bestowal of every blessing from 
the hand of God Avhich a saved condition can possibly imply, 
from the lowest degree of mere deliverance from hell, up to 
the highest glories of which a created being can be heir.^ 

4. He is "able to save," because of tlie offices he sus- 
tains. As a Priest, he saves from sin. As a Mediator, he 
brings us to God. As an Intercessor, he pleads our cause. 
As the Shepherd and Bishop of souls, he seeks and saves the 
lost, as well as watches over them when found. As Messiah, 
he anoints us with the Holy Spirit, bestowing gifts on men, 
even on the rebellious, that the Lord God may dwell among 
them. As a Prophet, he teaches the ignorant, and makes 
the foolish wise unto salvation. As the Captain of our sal- 
vation, he fights our battles and leads the array against our 
enemies. As a King, he rules in us and over us, making us 
more than conquerors over earth and hell — over the power 
of this ensnaring flesh, with all its deadly lusts which war 
against the soul — over this gay, seducing world, with all its 



4 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

pomp, and pride, and bravery — over principalities and powers, 
and all the banded legions of the prince of darkness. 

II. Cltrist is a Saviour to the uttermost. He is not 
only able to save, but infinitely able. It is the. ability of 
Omnipotence. It is the ability of one w^ho has all power in 
heaven, in earth, in hell. It is the ability of one who has 
shed infinitely precious blood, who has paid an infinitely 
precious ransom, who has laid down an infinitely precious 
life, in order that there might be salvation to the uttermost. 
It is the ability of one who has accomplished an infinitely 
glorious work, and thereby made infinite provision for every 
thing that sinners could require. It is the ability of one who 
has not only mercy and grace upon his side, but righteousness, 
holiness, and truth. Every infinite perfection is now upon 
the side of salvation. A Saviour's death did this. Before 
that they were against it. Nothing, therefore, can be beyond 
the reach of a Saviour such as this. No sinner upon earth, 
no sinner on this side of hell can be beyond his power to 
save. His salvation goes to the very uttermost extremity of 
human ruin, to " the very ends of the earth," up to the very 
gate of hell. 

1. This salvation is "to the uttermost," with respect to 
a sinner s state and character. It goes to the very extrem- 
ity of ruin and death. There is no degree of guilt for which 
it has not provided a full pardon. There are no sins too 
many, there is no burden too heavy for a salvation like this. 
Though our sins be truly infinite in number, though they be 
more than the hairs of our head, or the sands on the sea- 
shore, or the drops of the ocean, or the leaves of the forest, 
or the stars of heaven, or all of these multiplied together, yet 
still this salvation goes infinitely above and beyond them all. 
Though they be awfully heinous and aggravated, like scarlet 
or crimson, unspeakably abominable and loathsome, nay, 
black as hell, yet still, this salvation goes far beyond them. 
Nor can any sinner be too vile and polluted to be saved. 
He may be sunk deepest of all in the horrible pit and the 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 5 

iniry clay ; his soul may be a cage of unclean birds, hateful 
and filthy beyond human conception, yet still there is salva- 
tion for him here. Here is blood even to cleanse such a 
soul, nay, to make it whiter than snow. No soul is too vile 
for Jesus to cleanse. Isaiah 1 : 18 ; 1 Cor. G : 9-11 ; 1 John, 
1:7. Nor can any soul be too dead for Jesus to quicken. 
They may be lying in the deepest grave of trespasses and 
sins, yet the arm of Jesus can reach down to them and pluck 
them from it. The power of Jesus can awaken the soul that 
is sunk in the deepest slumbers of spiritual death. John 
5 : 25 ; Eph. 2:1. Let no one then say. My soul is so dead 
that I despair of its ever being quickened. Here is life for 
the dead ; life to the uttermost. No degree of death is 
beyond the power of Him who is the Resurrection and the 
Life. To speak thus despondingly of your deadness is not 
humility, but presumption. It is limiting the power and 
grace of Jesus. It is saying, that he is not able to save to 
the uttermost — that there are some states of death beyond 
his reach I 

Neither is tliere any heart too hard for Jesus to soften. 
It matters not hoAv hard it be. It may be like iron, that 
nothing will break ; it may be like adamant, that nothing 
will melt. It may be both of these together, or far more'so 
than any figure can give you the least idea of. But still it 
is not too hard for him. Neither is there any soul too 
needy, too poor, too full of wants for him. It matters not 
how manifold be the wants, how deep the poverty, how 
great the need. StiU, he is able to save to the uttermost ; 
and that, surely, is enough to assure the very neediest that 
there is an abundant supply for them. His fulness is the 
fulness of God, and that is infinite. " It pleased the Father 
that in him should all fulness dwell." And he himself thus 
graciously addresses the needy soul : "I counsel thee to buy 
of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich." 
None are too empty for Jesus to fill ; and that in no scanty 
measure, but even to overflowing : " He that believeth on 



6 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

me, out of him shall flow rivers of living water." Neither 
is there any soul too miserable for him to make perfectly 
blessed. " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest." He has peace for the most 
troubled, rest for the most weary, light for the darkest, joy 
for the most sorrowful, calm for the most tempest-tost, per- 
fect blessedness for the most wretched of all I He gives 
beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of 
praise for the spirit of heaviness. Truly he is a Saviour to 
the uttermost. 

Take your station on the highest eminence of earth, 
which commands the widest prospect that man's eye can 
reach. Look around on this fallen earth. Look backward 
on the condition of sin and wretchedness in which its millions 
have been involved for these six thousand years ; look for- 
ward and conceive the guilt in which it is to be yet more 
fearfully sunk ere the day of its glory come. Look on every 
side of you in this present generation. See the pollution, the 
guilt, the abominations, the enormities with which it is flood- 
ed. Take a wider circle, and conceive what lie beyond 
these — the crimes, the atrocities, perpetrated in secret, unseen 
by the eye of man, deeds done in darkness, and fit only to be 
named in darkness — every thing conceivable on this side of 
hell. Take a yet wider circle, and imagine, if it be pos- 
sible, how much more than all this, God's eye discerns and 
God's soul abhors, in what has been done and is yet doing 
on the surface of this fallen earth. Take the very widest 
possible circle of human guilt, the deepest mire of mortal sin, 
and imagine, in addition to these, all possible difficulties and 
hinderances ; still, beyond that widest circle, yea, infinitely 
beyond the farthest that man's guilt has compassed, is the 
power of Jesus to save. For his is salvation to the uttermost ; 
his is the salvation of God. The sinner may indeed have 
gone to the very extremity of guilt, to the very ends of the 
earth, in his wanderings from God. Yea, he may have gone 
to the very gates of hell, and be knocking for admittance 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 7 

there. He may be a brand already set on fire of hell ; yet 
even thence the ann and povi^er of Jesus can pluck him ; 
even from the gates of hell can the outstretched hand of 
Jesus save ! 2 Chron. 33 : 1-13 ; Zech. 3 : 2 ; 1 Tim. 1 : 
13-16. 

2. This salvation is to the uttermost, in respect to the 
completeness of the salvation. It is a complete deliverance 
that Jesus brings to the soul. The first thing he does is to 
justify the sinner ; and this he does at once and entirely, so 
soon as vi^e believe in his name. Our acceptance with the 
Father, through his beloved Son, is a perfect and immediate 
acceptance, w^ithout any reserve. It is not partially, or by 
halves, that he forgives. He forgives fully, and without lim- 
itation ; so that not so much as one sin remains unpardoned. 
He forgives not merely until seven times, or until seventy 
times seven, or even until ten thousand times ten thousand, 
but without number or bound. Whether our sins be known 
or unknowTi, felt or unfelt, remembered or forgotten, he freely 
forgives all to the uttermost. And as he forgives entirely, 
so he ultimately sanctifies wholly. Whatever be the hin- 
derances or the enemies in our way, he will perfect that 
which he begins. Whatever have been our past lives, the 
sins or crimes of manhood, still he saves " to the uttermost," 
so as entirely to undo the evil of our former ways, and wash 
away the pollution of our former sins. Hence, the salvation 
of one sinner is as complete as that of another, though the 
former may have lived much longer, and gone far deeper 
into sin than the latter. The salvation of Rahab the harlot 
was as complete as that of Joshua, her deliverer ; nor would 
her long life of sin make her peace less perfect or secure than 
his, though perhaps he had known the Lord from his youth. 
The salvation of Manasseh, whose sins, both in their own 
enormity, and by their aggravations, seem absolutely with- 
out a parallel, -was as complete as that of his godly lather 
Hezekiah, or his inspired teacher Isaiah. The salvation of 
Paul, the blaspliemer and persecutor, was not less complete 



8 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

than tliat of Timothy, who from his youth had sought after 
God. Nothing but an infinite salvation could have reached 
the case of such vile transgressors ; but w^hen it did reach 
them, it was complete. It purged their consciences, and 
cleansed their souls from guilt, even such as theirs. It 
brought them a perfect, not a partial or doubtful peace. It 
gave them as complete an assurance of God's love, and as 
sure a consciousness of reconciliation with him, as to those 
whose past life had been stained with no such outward abom- 
inations. It preserved unruffled the steadfast calm of the 
soul, even in the fall remembrance of all the enormities of 
other days. 0, what a salvation must this be, that could 
accomplish all this so perfectly, even for the chief of sinners ! 
3. And then, all this is eternal. It is not a temporary sal- 
vation ; neither is it one that can change or give way here- 
after. No. It is eternally secure ; for he who commenced 
it, ever liveth to maintain and perpetuate it. He preserves 
each saved soul, by his mighty power, until his coming, that 
then he may present them faultless before the presence of 
his glory with exceeding joy. Nay, their very dust to him 
is dear. Their body as well as their soul he saves, raising it 
up and making it like unto his own glorious body, that he 
may place them altogether perfect, completely saved, upon 
his throne in the day when he returns to reign. Eph. 5 : 27 ; 
Col. 1 : 22 ; Jude 24. And throughout eternity these saved 
ones remain as trophies of a Saviour's grace and power : an 
undecaying memorial of the redeeming love of him who "is 
able to save to the uttermost." No stain of former sin can 
reappear upon their spotless raiment ; nor can all the infinite 
abomination of their former ways prevent them from shining 
in their perfect brightness as the sons of light — it may be, 
the most resplendent of all I No returning mists of earth 
can ever again overcast their everlasting sunshine, or cloud 
the pure azure of their sky. No remembrance of guilt can 
ever draw one darkening shadow over their brow of light. 
No consciousness that they are the very sinners who were 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 9 

mice in the horrible pit and in the miry clay, can check 
their notes of joy, or do aught but add to the gladness as well 
as the loudness of the new song they sing. How truly is all 
this "salvation to the uttermost" — salvation that knows no 
bound, no end. 

III. They tliat come unto Christ are saved. He saves 
those who come unto God by him, or who come unto him- 
self, for both statements are common in Scripture. Those 
whom he saves, are those who come unto the Father through 
him as the way, who consent to take him as the way to God ; 
to recognize him as ''the way, the truth, and the life " — the 
new and living way into the presence of God. He saves 
none else. Not but that he has the iioivcr to save millions 
more, even of those who refuse to come ; yet still, he saves 
none who remain away. Their remaining away, their re- 
fusing to come unto the Father through him, seals their 
condemnation. To save such, would be to proclaim his own 
work unnecessary, to declare that he had died in vain. 
Therefore he saves none who reject him as their Saviour ; 
he leaves them to die in their sins. He saves none who 
persist in coming to God by ways of their own, who seek 
life by methods of their own, who try to obtain pardon by 
doings of their own. He saves none who stand afar off, and 
turn away from God. None of these he saves, so long as 
they remain such. It is the coming ones that he saves ; 
those who consent to take him and him only as the access 
into the holiest — the way unto the Father. Whosoever, 
then, persists in taking his own way of coming to God, can- 
not be saved. Whosoever comes without this Mediator, or 
chooses another, cannot be saved. It is our taking him as 
the appointed way to God, and drawing near by that way, 
that saves us. John 10:9; 14:6; Eph. 2:18; Heb. 
10 :19, 20. 

The special object of the apostle in making this state- 
ment seems to be, to show that Christ is so inlinitely able to 
save, that none can possibly bring to him a case too despe- 
vor-. XII. 36 



10 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

rate — a case beyond his skill and power to cure. Such is 
his power, that if sinners will only bring the case to him, 
however hopeless it may seem, still it must yield to his 
touch. All who will only put their case into his hands, will 
find in him an infinitely sufficient Saviour. And yet how 
many are seeking to save themselves, before they come to 
him to be saved. How many refuse to come as they are, 
and try to do something, however little, in the way of saving 
themselves, before they count themselves entitled to come to 
him for the rest. How many think they must begin the 
work, and then come to him to end it. They think it would 
be presumption to bring a soul so diseased as theirs, a heart 
so hard and dead as theirs. They count it humility to stay 
away, or at least to come doubting and fearing. They do 
not see that it is not humility but presumption to stay away, 
or to come doubting, as if he to whom they were coming 
were either unable or unwilling to receive and save them. 

Whosoever thou art then, only come, and thou shalt be 
saved. Come unto God by him. Whatever be your sin, 
only come. Whatever be your unworthiness, only come. 
Whatever be your hardness of heart, only come. Whatever 
be the peculiarity of your case, only come. Bring your op- 
pressed soul to him. Bring your hard heart to him. Bring 
your troubled conscience to him. Do not stand afar off. 
Do not try to be your own physician. Do not try to make 
yourself better before you come. In the very state in which 
this message finds you, come. There is infinite fulness in 
him. There is infinite provision for you in that fulness. 
There is infinite love in him. There is infinite willingness 
to save you. He sends you this message ; he stretches out 
his arm ; he beckons with his hand ; he lifts up his gracious 
voice to you, saying, I am the way, and the truth, and the 
life ; him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out. 

IV. Christ'' s intercession is the pledge of his infinite 
ability to save. He ever liveth to make intercession for us 
It is for this that he liveth. It is for this that he is exalted 



fJALVATlON TO THE UTTERMOST. H 

to the throne of the Majesty in the heavens. And this is 
the assurance to us of his being able to save unto the utter- 
most ; for it is by this intercession that he carries on our 
salvation. His v^^ork on earth, as the sacrijice, wrought out 
the atonement from which salvation flows ; and his work in 
heaven, as the advocate with the Father, carries on and 
applies that work. On earth he finished his work as the 
bearer of sin, thereby taking it out of the way, and opening 
the access to God. In heaven he is now seated to effect the 
reconciliation for which he had prepared the way^to intro- 
duce to the Father those that approach in his name. Let 
us briefly consider what this intercession implies. 

1. He intercedes hy presenting his sacrifice before the 
throne. He appears in heaven as " the Lamb that was 
slain." Rev. 5:6, 12. As such the Father beholds him 
and is well pleased. And thus by his presenting himself 
and his complete work before the Father, intercession is 
made by him, silent yet resistless. His appearance pleads, 
his attitude pleads, his blood pleads, his obedience pleads, his 
sacrifice pleads. Just as the altar might be said to plead for 
every one who laid his hands upon its horns, so the sacrifice 
of Jesus pleads for every one who lays his hand on him. 
Just as the lamb, though silent, pleaded efiectually for him 
who brought it as an offering, so the Lamb of God pleads 
for all who will take him as their oflering, and lay their 
sins on him. 

2. He intercedes by lyresenting himself in our name. 
"He appears in the presence of God for us." Heb. 9 : 24. 
He was our substitute on earth, and he is our representative 
in heaven. Hence, God sees us in him, hears us in him, 
deals with us in him. By presenting his blood, he obtains 
forgiveness for us ; but by presenting himself, his infinitely 
glorious self, he does far more — he obtains for us every thing 
that belongs to. him. Every thing that ive say is heard by 
God as if he had said it ; every thing that we ask for is 
bestowed by the Father as if he had at-ked it ; our petitions 



12 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

are counted as his petitions ; our voice ascends acceptable 
in the Father's ears, as if it were the voice of his beloved 
Son. Thus entirely does he represent us, and by so doing 
plead for us irresistibly. He appears in the presence of God 
for us ; and by so appearing carries on his mighty interces- 
sion. He invites us to come, and be represented by him. 
He sees sinners coming to God upon their own footing, and 
lie invites them to come on his. He sees men vainly pre- 
senting their prayers before God on the ground of some per- 
sonal title of their own, and he asks them no longer to 
attempt such folly, but to consent to take him as their rep- 
resentative, assuring them that if they will but do so, all 
his infinite merit and acceptableness with the Father shall 
plead for them. sinners, self-righteous ones, self-trusting 
ones, come, and be thus represented and interceded for by 
him. His holiness will plead infinitely more foj- you, than 
all your unholiness can plead against you. His glorious 
righteousness will plead infinitely more /or you, than all your 
miserable unrighteousness can plead against you. The ex- 
cellent beauty of his person will be a far stronger plea in 
your favor, than all the loathsome deformity of your own 
person can be against you. 

3. He intercedes by pleading for us. When he was on 
earth, he thus pleaded, and doubtless he has not ceased to 
do the same gracious ofiice in heaven. He pleaded for Peter : 
" Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, 
that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee, 
that thy faith fail not." Luke 22 : 31, 32. Thus he took 
up Peter's case ; thus he prayed that his faith might be 
upheld. And as he did to Peter on earth, so doubtless he 
does in heaven for those who come unto God by him. He 
takes notice of their case. His eye is always upon them. 
He sees their fainting faith. He marks their struggles with 
unbelief — struggles to which no human eye is witness — strug- 
gles maintained in the solitude of their closet, and expressed 
only by the tear, the groan, the sigh. He sees when they 



SALVATION TO THE I'TTER.MOST. Ki 

would fain come to him, and Satan keeps them back, or 
casts them down, or whispers mahgnant doubts ; and seeing 
all these, he takes their case into his hand and pleads for 
them with God. How comforting to believers to remem- 
ber this. How encouraging to those who are seeking the 
way to God perhaps in fear and darkness, to see how ready 
this divine Intercessor is to take up their case and plead in 
their behalf. Again, in the seventeenth chapter of John 
we have a specimen of Christ's intercession on earth, which 
is well fitted to give us a right idea of what it must be in 
heaven. Take such passages as these : " Sanctify them 
through thy truth ; thy word is truth." Again, " Father, I 
will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me 
where I am, that they may behold my glory." John 17 : 17, 
24. These are some of Christ's pleadings on earth ; and 
0, how consoling, how animating to think that these are 
still his pleadings in heaven. With such an Advocate above, 
1 John, 2:1, what can we fear ? Whatever be the feeble- 
ness, the imperfection of our pleadings here, either for our- 
selves or others, his intercession is always perfect and pre- 
vailing. And it is Jiis intercession that is our confidence 
and hope. If he plead for us, who can plead against us ? 
sinners, come to him. Come, and be pleaded for by this 
divine Intercessor. Come, put your case into the hands of 
this divine Advocate. Allow him to plead for you. Do not 
continue to manage your own cause. Intrust it to him, and 
all shall be well. 

4. He intercedes by presenting our prayer'^. It is he 
and he only that presents our prayers to the Father ; and 
being presented by him, they are accepted and answered. 
As our High-priest, he both " bears the iniquity of our holy 
things," and procures acceptance for them. Exod. 28 : 38. 
Our prayers must pass through his hands ere they can reach 
the Father. As they leave our lips they are impure and 
earthly, being breathed from polluted hearts ; but forthwith 
he takes hold of them, strips tliem of their impurities, purges 

VOL. .MI. 36* 



14 SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 

away their imperfections, and presents them as a perfect 
offering to God. The hearts they come from are corrupt 
and vile ; the desires they contain are cold, lifeless, wander- 
ing ; the words in which they are expressed are poor and 
feeble ; each petition seems to plead against us ; yet still, 
being presented by him, they are well-pleasing even in the 
eyes of Him who cannot look upon iniquity. Hence, prayer 
is likened to sweet incense, and in heaven the four and 
twenty elders have in their hands " golden vials full of odors, 
which are the prayers of saints." Rev. 5:8. Thus also 
Jesus, as our High-priest, stands with his golden censer full 
of incense, to " offer it, with the prayers of all saints, upon 
the golden altar which is before the throne." Rev. 8 : 3. 
Into that censer he calls on us to put our prayers. He 
stretches out his hand ; he lets down that censer to earth ; 
he brings it to our very side ; he asks us to put in our prayers. 
Then he will draw up that censer ; and, fragrant with rich 
incense, he will present them before the throne. 

How apt are we to overlook this. How prone either to 
present our prayers without any censer at all, or to make 
censers of our own. How apt to look aside from Jesus, even 
when looking up to God. How apt to undervalue the effi- 
cacy of this divine censer, and to cherish doubts whether 
our petitions may find their way safely to the throne. How 
apt to make censers of our own, and to attempt with these 
to approach the Father. How apt, for instance, are we to 
make our acceptance depend upon our earnestness, and say, 
" Alas, we are so cold in prayer, how can we expect an 
answer ;" or, on the other hand, to congratulate ourselves, 
and take courage from an opposite state of feeling, saying, 
" Ah, we have been earnest, we have had much enlarge- 
ment, surely we shall be accepted." "What is all this but 
making a censer of our earnestness ; forgetting that it is 
not our frame in prayer, but the censer into which it is 
put, that secures its acceptance ? The most fervent petition 
that ever rose from earth needs this censer with its incense 



SALVATION TO THE UTTERMOST. 15 

*to prevent its being an abomination to God ; and the feeblest 
cry that ever left a sinner's trembling lips needs no more. 
sinners, put in your prayers into this censer. The High- 
priest reaches it towards you, he presents it at your side ; 
put in your prayers, and they shall be heard. Ye M^ho have 
never prayed before, bring your first petition here, and even 
you are sure of acceptance. Ye w^ho have been praying in 
doubt, lodge your petitions here, and cease to doubt. That 
golden censer is enough to remove your fears, and give you 
the full assurance of faith in drawing near to the mercy- 
seat. 

Such, then, is the great High-priest of our profession. 
Such is Jesus. Able to save to the uttermost. Ever livinsf 
to intercede. Mighty in saving — all-prevalent in interceding. 
How secure, how blessed is the state of those w^io have 
come unto God through him. How great the encourage- 
ment for sinners to come unto God through him. He is 
infinitely able and willing to save you. Do not stay away 
from him ; but come at once, come now, come boldly, come 
■without doubting, come as you are, and he will save you ; 
he will undertake your cause, and all shall be well. 

Salvation to the uttermost. This is the message we 
bring. Salvation for the vilest, the guiltiest, the most 
wretched of all. Salvation for every sinner on this side of 
hell. None can say their case is too bad, for it is salvation 
to the uttermost ; and where is the sinner that is beyond 
the uttermost — beyond that which Gcc^ calls the uttermost? 
Lost ones, come, and be saved. Chief of sinners, come. 
Prodigals, rebels, wanderers, come. Whomever ivill, let him 
come, and be saved. 



16 SALVATION TU THE UTTERMOST. 



CHRIST'S INTERCESSION, 



He lives, the great Redeemer lives — • 
What joy the bless'd assurance gives : 
And now, before his Father, God, 
Pleads the full merit of his blood. 

Repeated crimes awake our fears, 
And justice arm'd, with frowns appears ; 
But in the Saviour's lovely face 
Sweet mercy smiles, and all is peace. 

Hence, then, ye black despairing thoughts ; 
Above our fears, above our faults, 
His powerful intercessions rise, 
And guilt recedes, and terror dies. 

In every dark distressful hour. 
When sin and Satan join their power, 
Let this dear hope repel the dart. 
That Jesus bears us on his heart. 

Great Advocate, Almighty Friend I 

On him our humble hopes depend : 

Our cause can never, never fail, 

For Jesus pleads and must prevail. steeb 



j¥o. 510. 



THE 



CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

BY REV. JAMES HAMILTON, 

PASTOR OF THE NATIONAL SCOTCH CHURCH, REGENT-SQUARE, LONDON. 



w» 



^ >- ■^^^■ 




Greet the church that is m their hoixse. — Eom. 1G : 5. 

Again I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth as 
touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of 
my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gath- 
ered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. — Matt. 
18 : 19, 20. 

Let the word of Christ dwell m you richly in all wisdom ; teaching 
and admonishing one another in psalms, and hymns, and spiritual 
songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. — Col. 3:16. 

I know him, (Abraham.) that he will command his children and his 
household after hun, and th^y .shall keep the way of th<^ Lord. — 
Gen. 18 : 19. 



2 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

The voice of rejoicing and salvation is in the tabernacles of the right- 
eous. — Psalm 118 : 15. 

In Greenland, when a stranger knocks at the door, he 
asks, " Is God in this house ?" And if they answer, Yes, 
he enters. This Httle messenger knocks at your door with 
the Greenland salutation, Is God in this house ? Were 
you like Abraham entertaining an angel unawares, what 
would be the report he would take back to heaven ? Would 
he find you commanding your children and your household, 
and teaching them the way of the Lord ? Would he find 
an altar in your dwelling ? Do you worship God with your 
children ? Is there a church in your house ? 

If not, then God is not in your house. A prayerless fam- 
ily is a godless family. It is a family on which Jehovah 
frowns'. He will pour out his fury upon it some day. " Pour 
out thy fury upon the heathen that know thee not, and upon 
the families that call not on thy name." Jer. 10 : 25. A 
prayerless family and a heathen family are here accounted 
the same. 

I cannot mention all the reasons in favor of family wor- 
ship ; but if you ponder them, the four following should 
suffice. 

1 . The godly householders metitioned in Scripture prac- 
tised it. Would you desire to be, like Abraham, the friend 
of God ? Wherever he pitched his tent, he builded an altar, 
and called on the name of the Lord, Gen. 12 : 7, 8 ; 13:4, 
18 ; and Jehovah declared concerning him, " I know Abra- 
ham, that he will command his children and his household 
after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord." Geiv. 
18 : 19. Would you like to resemble Job, "a perfect and an 
upright man, one that feared God, and eschewed evil ?" He 
used to bring his children together, and rose early in the 
morning, and offered a sacrifice of as many victims as he had 
sons and daughters, teaching us how express and special our 
intercession for our families should be : and this he did 
"continually." Job 1 : 5, 8. Would you resemble David, 
the man after God's own heart ? At the close of a busy 



THE CHURCH KN THE HOUSE. 3 

day, we find him going- home "to bless his house." 1 Chron. 
16 : 43. Do you admire Cornelius, whose prayers were 
heard, and to whom the Lord sent a special messenger to 
teach him the way of salvation ? He was " a devout man, 
one who feared God with all his house, and prayed to God 
alM'ays ;" and who was so anxious for the salvation of his 
family, that he got together his kinsmen and near friends, 
that they might be ready to hear the apostle when he arrived, 
and share with himself the beneht. Acts 10:2, 24, 33. Do 
you admire Aquila and Priscilla, Paul's " helpers in Christ 
Jesus," and who were so skilful in the Scriptures, that they 
were able to teach a young minister the way of God more 
perfectly ? You Avill find that one reason for their familiar- 
ity with Scripture was, that they had " a church in their 
house." Acts 18 : 26 ; Rom. 16 : 5. 

In the Bible you find instances of family devotion in all 
ranks of life, from the king to the artisan, from David's pal- 
ace to the tent of Aquila, to teach you, that whatever be 
your situation in life, you should still have a church in your 
house. I have sometimes seen family worship in great 
houses, but I have felt that God was quite as near when I 
knelt with a praying family on the earthen floor of their cot- 
tage. I have known of family worship among the reapejrs 
in a barn. It used to be common in the fishing-boats upon 
the friths and lakes of Scotland. I have heard of its being 
observed in the depths of a coal-pit. I scarcely know the 
situation in life in which a willing family might not contrive 
to pray together. If you live in a scoffing, ungodly neigh- 
borhood, so much the more necessity for this duty. Abraham 
built his altar whilst heathen Canaanites looked on. He 
lifted up a testimony for God, and God honored him ; so that 
Abimelech, his neighbor, was constrained to say, " God is 
with thee in all that thou doest." Gen. 21 : 22. 

2. Wherever religio?i revives, family worship abounds. 
When the Spirit is poured oat upon the house of David, 
" the land shall mourn, e\exy family apart." Zech. 12 : 12. 
I can remember no instance of a great revival of which this 



4 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

was not an attendant sign. Listen to the account which 
Mr. Baxter gives of Kidderminster during his ministry. '.' On 
the Lord's day there was no disorder to be seen in the streets, 
but you might hear a hundred famihes singing psalms and 
repeating sermons, as you passed through the streets. When 
I came thither first, there was about one family in a street 
that worshipped God and called on his name, and when I 
came away, there were some streets where there was not 
above one family in the side of a' street that did not so, and 
that did not by professing serious godliness give us some 
hopes of their sincerity ; and those families which were the 
worst, being inns and alehouses, usually some persons in 
each did seem to be religious. Some of the poor men did 
competently understand the body of divinity, and were able 
to judge in difficult controversies. Some of them were so 
able in prayer, that very few ministers did match them m 
order, and fulness, and apt expressions, and holy oratory 
with fervency. Abundance of them were able to pray verv 
laudably with their families, or with others. The temper 
of their minds, and the innocency of their lives, was much 
more laudable than their parts." When the Spirit is poured 
upon us, our cities will all present a similar aspect. 

3. It would make your home liapj^tier, if you had a 
church in your house. It has been said with much truth, 
" Family prayer is the oil which removes friction, and causes 
all the complicated wheels of the family to move smoothly 
and noiselessly." It is one way, and the very best, for bring- 
ing all the members of a family together, and for promoting 
that harmony of feeling so essential to domestic enjoyment. 
Some families are held together by hardly any bond, except 
that they lodge under the same roof, and assemble round the 
same board. But when they meet, it is not to fulfil one an- 
other's joy. They are selfish and sullen ; cross words, peev- 
ish answers, and angry recriminations make up all their in- 
tercourse. The customary meal is dispatched in a gloomy 
silence, or imbittered by fretful words. I have known fam- 
ilies so little at home with one another, that it was quite a 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 5 

relief when any casual visitor dropped in to break the irk- 
someness of their own society. I have seen brothers and 
sisters so ill-assorted in the families in which God had 
planted them together, that they had no subject of conunon 
interest, and no mutual love nor confidence. They could 
converse and be happy with strangers, but not with one an- 
other. And I have seen this in families where there was a 
form of family worship — a pretence, a semblance of prayer; 
but never where there was the reality. 

If yours be such a family, before peace and affection 
visit it, you must say, " Come, and let us seek the Lord." 
If you would see the dawn of blander days on that clouded 
and lowering circle, you must cry, "Lord, lift thou up the 
light of thy countenance upon us." If you could only per- 
suade them to take into their hands the volume that speaks 
good- will to man, and as they sit together to read by turns 
its messages of kindness, and then, as they bowed before the 
mercy-seat, if in their common name, you said. Our Father, 
and confessed their common sins, returned thanks for any 
mercies which the day had brought, and asked such blessings 
as all need, this process could not be long persisted in till 
you would see its softening and harmonizing influence, The 
dew of Hermon would begin to come down, and you would 
exclaim as you saw the difference, " Behold, how good and 
how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." 
Psalm 133. 

But perhaps your family dwells in unity — but it is not a 
holy unity. It is not sanctified by the word of God, and by 
prayer. You are happy in one another. You are never at 
a loss for the materials of a cheerful intercourse. But amidst 
all the sprightliness, and cordiality, and kind feeling which 
encompass your fireside, one ingredient of gladness is want- 
ing. God is forgotten. In the morning, you meet and give 
one another a joyous greeting, and, the morning meal dis- 
patched, rush away to the day's engagements without a 
word of acknowledgment to that God whose sleepless eye 
guarded your midnight pillow — without one word of prayer 
vol,. XII. 87 



6 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

to bespeak his uplioldiiig and guidance in this day's untrod- 
den path. And when the evening hour of intercourse is 
over, and you have discussed the pleasant or prosperous inci- 
dents of the day, you hie away, cheerful but unthankful, to 
a prayerless slumber, perhaps to awake in the grasp of the 
king of terrors, and find that the Lord is not with you. 
Your family is united — but it is a short-lived union. Your 
family-love — God is not in it, and therefore heaven does not 
follow after it. How it would give tone and intensity to the 
affection of your smiling circle, if you could be brought to 
love one another in the Lord! With what new eyes you 
would learn to look upon yourselves, if you came to regard 
one another as brethren for eternity. And how it would 
heighten bliss, and take the -sharpness out of sorrow, if ''for 
ever ivith the Lord" were the thought which joy and grief 
most readily suggested. Were it manifest of all the mem- 
bers of a family, that God is their Father, Christ their elder 
Brother, and the Holy Spirit their Comforter, such a family 
would possess a joy which the removal of no member could 
take away. That joy has often come into households through 
the channel of domestic devotion. For, 

4. Family worship is an ordinance ivhich God has often 
blessed to the saving of souls. In houses where it is con- 
ducted with life and feeling, it has often proved a converting 
ordinance. A few years ago, an English gentleman visited 
America, and spent some days with a pious friend. He was 
a man of talent and accomplishments, but an infidel. Four 
years afterwards, he returned to the same house, a Christian. 
They wondered at the change, but little suspected when 
and where it had originated. He told them, that Avhen he 
was present at their family worship, on the first evening of 
his former visit, and when, after the chapter was read, they 
all knelt down to pray, the recollection of such scenes in his 
father's house long years ago, rushed in on his memory, so 
that he did not hear a single word. But the occurrence 
made him think, and his thoughtfulness ended in his leaving 
the howling wilderness of infidefity, and finding a quiet rest 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 7 

fn the salvation wrought out by Jesus Christ. In his Fire- 
side, Mr. Abbott tells us oi a gay young lady, who paid a 
visit of" a week in the family of a minister, an eminently 
holy man. His fervent intercessions for his children, and 
the other inmates of his dwelling, went to her thoughtless 
heart ; they were the Spirit's arrow, and upon tliat family 
altar, his visitor was enabled to present herself a living sac- 
rifice to God. 

It is with the church in the house as with the church in 
the village. The wayfarer may get a word in passing, which 
he never can Ibrget. The stranger that turns aside to tarry 
for a night, may hear at your family worship the word that 
will save his soul. Some years ago, an Irish wanderer, his 
wife, and his sister, asked a night's shelter in the cabin of a 
pious schoolmaster. With the characteristic hospitality of 
his nation, the schoolmaster made them welcome. It was 
his hour for evening worship, and when the strangers were 
seated, he began by reading slowly and solemnly, the second 
chapter of the epistle to the Ephesians. The young man 
sat astonished. The expressions, " Dead in trespasses and 
sins," "Children of wrath," "AYalking after the course of 
this world," were new to him. He sought an explanation. 
He was told, that this is God's account of the state of men 
by nature. He felt that it was exactly his own state. " In 
this way I have w^alked from my childhood. In the service 
of the god of this world we have come to your house." He 
was on the way to a fair, where he intended to pass a quan- 
tity of counterfeit money. But God's woid had found him 
out. He produced his store of coin, and begged his host to 
cast it into the fire ; and asked anxiously if he could not 
obtain the word of God for himself His request was com- 
plied with, and next morning, with their new treasure, the 
parly who had now no errand to the fair, returned to their 
own home. Perhaps by this time, the pious schoolmaster 
has met his guest within the gates of the city, outside of 
which are thieves, and what.soever makelh a lie. But I 
caimot enumerate all the conversions which have occurred 



8 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

at tlie clini-cli in the house. Many servants have been 
awakened there. Children have often heard there truths 
v^^hich, when the Spirit brought them to remembrance in 
after-days — perhaps in days of profligacy, and when far from 
their father's house — have sent home the prodigal. It is not 
only of Zion's solemn assemblies, but of Jacob's humble 
dwellings — the little fireside sanctuaries — that " the Lord 
shall count, when he writeth up the people, that this man 
was born there." In your house there have been, perhaps, 
several immortal spirits born into the world. Have there 
been any born again ? 

Prayerless parents, your irreligion may prove your chil- 
dren's damnation. They might have been within the fold 
of the Saviour by this time, had not you hindered them when 
entering in. That time when God visited your family with 
a heavy stroke, they were thoughtful for a season, but there 
w^as no church in your house to give a heavenly direction to 
that thoughtfulness, and it soon died away. That evening 
w^hen they came home from the Sabbath-school so serious, 
if you had been a pious father or mother, you would have 
taken your boy aside, and spoken tenderly to him, and asked 
what his teacher had been telling him ; and you would 
have prayed with him, and tried to deepen the impression. 
But your children came in from the church or school, and 
found no church in their father's house. Their hearts were 
softened, but your worldliness soon hardened them. The 
seed of the kingdom was just springing in their souls, and 
by this time might have been a rich harvest of salvation ; 
but in the atmosphere of your ungodly house, the tender 
blade withered instantly. Your idle talk, your frivolity, 
your Sunday visitors, your prayerless evening, ruined all. 
Your children were coming to Christ, and you suffered them 
not. And you will not need to hinder them long. The 
carnal mind is enmity against God ; but no enmity is so 
deep as theirs who were almost reconciled, and then drew 
back. You drove your children back. You hardened them. 
They may never more be moved. They may grow up as 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 9 

prayerless and ungodly as yourself. If God should change 
yourself, they may soon be too hard for your own tears and 
entreaties. If you die as you are, their evil works will fol- 
low you to the world of woe, and pour new ingredients into 
your own cup of wrath. 0, think of these things. A pray- 
erless house is not only a cheerless one, but it is a guilty one ; 
for where God is not, there Satan is. 

But I know not why I should multiply words to prove a 
duty which nature teaches. The poor pagan, with his 
household gods and family altar, will rise in the judgment 
against some of this generation, and will condemn them. 
Instead, therefore, of saying more on the obligation and ad- 
vantages of this most reasonable service, I shall endeavor to 
give SOME PLAIN DIRECTIONS to thosc iuto whosc hearts the 
Lord has put the desire to begin it. 

1. Can you sing? or is there anyone in the house who 
can ? You will find it enliven the service wonderfully if 
you can make " a joyful noise unto the Lord." The psalm 
or hymn is a part of the service which the youngest enjoy, 
and in which they will gladly take a share. 

2. There is the reading of the word of God. You may 
go straight through, or you may select a course of subjects. 
For instance, you might read the parables as one series, and 
the miracles of Christ as another. You might select the 
biographical portions, and read the lives of Adam, Noah, 
Abraham, Peter, Paul, etc. ; or you might read the epistles 
in connection with the history of the churches, or individu- 
als to whom they are addressed. Thus you might compare 
Ephesians with Acts 18-20, and with Rev. 2:1-8; or 
Thessalonians with Acts 17 : 1-13 ; and you might compare 
the Psalms with the period in David's history when each 
was written, and the prophecies with those passages which 
record their fulfilment — a comparison, which a Bible with 
good marginal references will enable you to make. Or you 
may select passages appropriate to particular seasons. On 
the morning of a Lord's day, you might read Psalm 48, 63, 

VOL. XII. 37* 



10 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

84, 92, 118; John 20; Rev. 1, etc. On a sacramental 
Sabbath, Psalm 22, 45 ; Isa. 53 ; Matt. 26 ; John 6, etc. 
It might help to keep attention awake, if each read a verse 
in rotation. At other times there might be more solemnity 
if the same person read the whole continuously. It would 
make it more impressive and more memorable, if you occa- 
sionally asked a question, or made a few remarks on the 
passage read. For instance, you read the nineteenth of 
Luke, and this is your commentary as you go along. 

1. " And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho. 

2. " And behold there was a man named Zaccheus, which 
was the chief among the publicans," or tax-gatherers, " and he 
was rich. 

3. " And he sought to see Jesus, who he was : and could not 
for the press, because he was little of stature." 

This was the last time that Jesus passed through Jericho. 
He had often passed quietly through it before ; but now his time 
was fully come, and he could not be hid. The road was full of 
passengers at this season; for it was passover-time, and they 
were all going up to Jerusalem. Besides, the sensation in Jeri- 
cho was increased by the miracle which Jesus had just wrought 
on the blind beggar, and which we read in the last chapter yes- 
terday. The crowd was so great that Zaccheus could get no 
opening to push through, and he was so little that he could not 
see over other people's shoulders. 

4. " And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycamore-tree 
to see him ; for he was to pass that way. 

5. " And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and 
saw him, and said unto him, Zaccheus, make haste, and come 
down; for to-day I must abide at thy house." 

How surprised he must have been. Up in the leafy syca- 
more, he never expected to be noticed. But see. Jesus stands 
still and looks at him as if he were about to speak. Perhaps 
Zaccheus expected to get a rebuke before the multitude for his 
villanies, when Jesus, in his own gentle way, just says, '^ Zac- 
cheus, make haste, and come down ; for to-day I must abide at 
thy house." Grace went with the word. 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. U 

6. '• And he made haste, and came down, and received him 
joyfully. 

7. •• And -vvhen they saw it, they all murmured, saying, 
That he was gone to be guest with a man that is a sinner." 

There were many who felt that they had a better right to 
this distinction than the mean, grasping tax-gatherer. Many 
of them felt as if they were not sinners. It lowered their opin- 
ion of Christ, that he would condescend to become the guest of 
such a man. They little knew the reason. 

8. '• And Zaccheus stood, and said unto the Lord, Behold, 
Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor ; and if I have 
taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him 
fourfold." 

How glad he must have been. A happy heart devises lib- 
eral things ; and so happy had this visit made him, that his 
greedy soul had no longer love for money. He stood up like one 
on whom a sudden thought had come, or who wished to give 
solemnity to what he said, and declared that he would make it 
all up to those whom he had wronged, and give half his sub- 
stance to the poor. This was the efiect of receiving Jesus. 
Where the love of Christ enters, the love of the world goes out. 
What would the murmurers think when they saw this change 
upon the '• sinner ?" 

9. '•' And Jesus said unto him. This day is salvation come'to 
this house, forasmuch as he also is a son of Abraham." 

It was his "joyful receiving" of Jesus which made him a 
son of Abraham. It made him more. It made him one of the 
sons of God. John 1:12. Have we received Christ ? Has his 
voice CA'cr made us joyful ? Have we ever parted with '•' goods," 
or any thing else, from gratitude to him ? Now let us remem- 
ber the next verse, for it is one of Christ's own faithful sayings: 

10. "For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that 
which was lost." 

This is one way. Another and perhaps better way, is to 
make the merribers of the family supply the commentary 
themselves. This evening, before it is so late that you are 
all sleepy, you sit round the table, each with his Bible open 



12 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

before him ; and the passage selected is the forty-fifth of 
Isaiah. 

1. '-Thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose 
right hand I have hoklen, to subdue nations before • him ; and I 
■will loose the loins of kings, to open before hirn the two-leaved 
gates; and the gates shall not be shut.'' 

Father. The prophet has been foretelling the fall of Baby- 
lon, and here he names its conqueror. Mary, what is his name ? 

Mary. Cyrus. 

Father. Does any one know how long after this it was 
before Cyrus made liis appearance ? Can no one tell ? George, 
your Bible has got the dates on its margin. Can you tell when 
Isaiah uttered this prophecy? 

George. About 712 years before Christ. 

Father. Now if you will look to the beginning of Ezra, 
you will see the first year of Cyrus set down there. 

George. Before Christ 536. 

Father. Then how long before had the Lord called Cyrus 
by his name ? 

George. Nearly 200 3^ears. 

Father. It is not very long since John and Henry finished 
the Life of Cyrus. Do you remember any facts which illustrate 
this prophecy ? 

Henry. The Lord says, '' I have holden his right hand to 
subdue nations before him.'- Cyrus subdued the Lydians with 
their rich king Cra?sus, the Phrygians, the Phajnicians, and many 
more, as well as the Babylonians. 

John. Yes ; and when he took Babylon, '' the gates were 
not shut." For the people were all drinking and diverting them- 
selves when he dried up the river, and had forgot to shut the 
gates at the end of the streets which open into the river ; so that 
Cyrus had nothing to do but march down the dry channel, and 
then climb up the banks into the city. 

Father. Very true ; but do you remember nothing more 
about " opening the two-leaved gates ?" 

Henry. O, yes. When the king of Babylon heard the up- 
roar in the city, he sent to find out what was the matter ; and 
when they w^erc opening the palace gates to let out the king's 
messenger, the Persians rushed in and killed the king. 

Try to bring out some lesson that may be needed that 



THE CHURCH IN THK HOUt^E. 13. 

very day. You read at morning worship that verse, 1 Cor. 
10:31. 

'• Whether, therefore, ye eat. or driiik. or whatsoever ye do, 
do all to the glory of God."' 

Father. What does that mean? 

John. That every thing, however little, we are to do so as 
to please God. 

Father. Quite so. It means, tliat you, children, when 
learning your lessons, or at play — that Sarah down stairs, and 
your father in his counting-room, should all remember that we 
have a Father in heaven, and should do every thing, the little 
things and the great things, in the way that pleases him. 

Mother. This was the principle on which Oberlin acted, 
as I read in his life not long ago. He would take a stone out of 
the road, if it were likely to incommode a traveller, on the prin- 
ciple of love to his neighbor : and directed his people to plant 
trees, and keep their roads in good condition, for the public ben- 
efit^ as one way of pleasing and honoring the Lord Jesus Christ. 

] 
obliging 
that we may do it to the glory of God. 

Read over carefully beforehand the passage which you 
mean to read with your family, and consider what are its 
most striking points and most useful lessons ; and a little 
practice will make you a good family expositor. 

3. The last and most important part of family worship 
is united prayer. By prayer, I mean the outpouring of an 
earnest heart in the name of Jesus. It is not prayer when 
you merely read or repeat a heartless form. You do not ask 
a blessing on your daily bread, when you merely mutter over 
it a charm — a few inarticulate words for custom's sake. Nor 
do you pray when you bend the knee, and read or say a few pe- 
titions which you do not feel, and which you forget as soon as 
you have uttered them. It is prayer, when you ask from God 
blessings which you are really anxious to obtain, and when, 
in a conviction of your own unworthiness, you ask them for 
the sake of Him who indeed is worthy, the well beloved 8on 
of God. It is prayer, when you ask so earnestly that you 
remember afterwards what you sought, and so bclievingly, 



14 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

that lookiiiir up you expect an answer. Be earnest, lest you 
give your family a distaste at prayer, by your dulness' and 
formality. Be honest. Deal truly with the God of truth. 
Do not mock the Searcher of hearts. Give yourself to the 
Lord ; then set up his worship. Go to the Lord Jesus j'-our- 
self, and then seek to bring your children with you. 

Li family prayer you may be more minute and specific 
than it is possible to be in more public services. If you have 
a deep reverence of God upon your mind, there is no fear 
that particularity will degenerate into an unholy familiarity. 
If any of your friends are in affliction, pray for them. If 
your children are at school, or at a Sabbath-class, pray for 
their teacher. Pray for your brethren in church-fellowship, 
that the beauty of the Lord may be upon them, and that 
they may dwell in love. Pray for the office-bearers of your 
church ; pray for your minister. Endeavor to interest your 
family in the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom, and pray 
for faithful ministers and missionaries, especially in those 
places in which you feelmost interested. Every morning 
commit your way to God. Bespeak his presence in all its 
duties and temptations — his blessing on your intercourse ; 
and especially on any means of grace which you hope that 
day to enjoy. Every night commend yourselves to his watch- 
ful keeping, that you may sleep and wake with him. Pray 
over the scripture you have read ; and abound in thanks- 
giving. Cultivate a cheerful and grateful spirit: think if 
there be any mercies you have lately received, and acknow- 
ledge them. Has any one arrived from a journey safe and 
well ? Is a sick member of the family restored ? Have you 
heard irood news from the far country, tidings from the ab- 
sent brother ? Were you at church or at the prayer-meet- 
ing this evening ; and did you iind it refreshing ? Have you 
read in your Missionary Magazine the conversion of a hea- 
then or a Jew ? Have you heard that God is pouring out 
his Spirit on some corner of our own country ? Have you 
got an answer to a former prayer ? Praise the Lord, for it 
is pleasant. 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 15 

^ It will depend on the age of your family and the amount 
of your leisure, how long the service should be. Some hurry 
it over in a way which shows that they have no heart in it 
themselves. Others prolong it so, that every one else is 
wearied. Ten minutes of a formal service will look longer 
than twice the time when the whole soul is in it. 

Be consistent. Behave yourself wisely in a perfect way. 
"Walk within your house with a perfect heart. Psa. 101:2. 
If you be devout in prayer, and unholy in practice ; if you be 
heavenly-minded at the hour of worship, and frivolous, or 
proud, or passionate all the day ; if you teach your children 
in the morning, " Be not conformed to this world," and if 
half the day's lessons be designed to conform them to the 
world as nearly as possible ; if you pray for your household 
that you may be all meek, and gentle, and kindly-afleclioned 
one to another, and then treat your servants as haughtily as 
if they were your slaves or your enemies, your contradictory 
prayers and practices will be a terrible stumbling-block in 
their way to the kingdom of God. God may convert them ; 
but your conduct will make that miracle of grace more 
miraculous still. 

Reader, I do not know whether by this time you are 
almost persuaded, or have actually determined to begin. 
When I think what you are losing w4io are strangers to this 
delightful exercise, and when I farther think on the blessed 
results which might flow from your now beginning it, I am 
loath to leave ofl^ — though it is time that we were done. Do 
you still hesitate ? What is your excuse ? 

" I never saw the advantages you describe. It has always 
been a dull service wherever I have seen it." But you need 
not make it dull. Throw your whole heart and soul into it, 
and it M'ill be lively enough. It is often dull, because it is a 
mere form. Do you make it a living service, and it will not 
be dull. It is often dull, because it is tedious. Do not spin 
it out. Better one paragraph of scripture, feelingly and in- 
telligently read, than a whole chapter listlessly drawled 
over. Better a prayer no longer than the publican's, Luke 



16 THE CHURCH L\ THE HOUSE. 

IS : 13, if the Avhole soul be in it, than a weary form with- 
out feeling. Be fervent, and you will not be dull. Family 
prayer has often been so conducted, that instead of wearying 
in it, children felt it a punishment to be excluded. I was 
once told of a cottage patriarch, who was born in those days 
when Scotland had a church in almost every house. There 
was one in his father's dwelling, and when he pitched a tent 
for himself, he build ed an altar. Round that altar a goodly 
number of olive-plants grew up, but one by one they were 
either planted out in families of their own, or God took them, 
till he and his old partner found themselves, just as at their 
first outset in life, alone. But their family worship con- 
tinued as of old. At last his fellow-traveller left him. Still, 
he carried on the worship by himself. So sweet was the 
memory of it in his father's house, and so pleasant had he 
found it in his own, that he could not give it up. But as he 
sat in his silent habitation, morning and evening, his quiv- 
ering voice was overheard singing the old psalm-tune, read- 
ing aloud the chapter, and praying as if others still wor- 
shipped by his side. He had not found it dull. 

" I have no time." If you really value time, family 
prayer is good husbandry of time. What you do with God's 
blessing, is much better and faster done than what you do 
without it, and is not so likely to need doing over again. 
You will find it here, as Sir Matthew Hale found it with the 
Sabbath. What you take from God, he can easily take from 
you. If other things were equal, I should expect far more 
to be accomplished in a day, by the man whose spirit had 
been tranquiUized, his resolution fortified, and his activity 
quickened by morning prayer, than by the man who impi- 
ously hurried out to do it all without asking God's presence. 
Philip Henry, who was an excellent economist of time, when 
early out of bed to hasten the preparations for a day's travel, 
as he called his children together, used to say to them, 
" Prayer and provender hinder no man's journey." Try his 
homely maxim, and you will find it true, 

" Our family is so small." How many are there of you ? 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 17 

Are there two ? Then, " Wheresoever two'' — see Matt. 18 : 
19, 20. John Howard and his valet, as they journeyed from 
place to place, used to have family worship by themselves, 
if they could get no one else to join them. " Wherever I 
have a tent," he would say, "there God shall have an altar." 
If there be two of you — though it should be but a Ruth and 
a Naomi, a mother and her daughter, your family is large 
enough to worship God, and to get the blessing of those who 
worship him. 

" My family is so large. There are so many servants, 
and often so many visitors, that I have not courage to begin." 
If your family be large, the obligation to begin is all the 
greater. Many suffer by your neglect. And if your congre- 
gation be numerous, the likelihood that some good will be 
done is the greater, for there are more to share the benefit. 
And why want courage ? Should not the very fact that 
you are acknowledging God encourage you ? " I'hem that 
honor me, I will honor." Begin it believingly, and in the 
very attempt courage will come. 

" But I have no gift of prayer. I cannot lead the devo- 
tions of my family." Prayer is the gift of the Holy Spirit. 
Rom. 8 : 26. Before you begin, ask God to give you his 
Spirit to teach you. Luke 11 : 13. I have heard of stana- 
mering men who were eloquent in prayer, for the Spirit of 
God spake by them. When you pray, remember that God 
is listening. You have called on him to hearken. You 
have asked him to lend you an attentive ear, for you are 
about to ask mercies for yourself and your dearest friends. 
Remember that God is listening, and you will forget that 
men are hearkening. And they in their turn, when they 
find that you are really praying, will have no time to criti- 
cize, for they will be constrained to join you in your prayer. 

But perhaps I have not after all touched your real objec- 
tion. You refuse to pray in your family, because you know- 
that you do not pray in your closet. You evade it, because 
you know that your life is such that family worship would, 
in your case, be a mockery, and would only add hypocrisy to 
VOL. xir. 5^^ 



18 ' THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

sin. Or you are under the influence of that false shame 
which will be felt to be the most shameful of all things, 
when the now afironted Son of God comes again in his glory. 
Mark 8 : 38. Is it so ? And are you about to throw away 
this tract with your purpose unchanged ? Then I can only 
say, that the day is coming when you will wish that the 
Lord had written you childless — that you had been a poor 
outcast, with no roof to shelter you, rather than the ungodly 
husband and father and master, which you this day are — 
for then you had been more free from blood-guiltiness in the 
care of others' souls. 

The considerations by which I have tried to urge you to 
a discharge of this duty are, the obligations which you owe 
to yourselves, to your children, and to God : to yourselves, 
who will never have the same inward happiness, nor the 
same satisfaction in your family circle, till once the voice of 
rejoicing, the melody and praise, which are heard in the tab- 
ernacles of the righteous, be heard in your own ; to your 
children, who will rise up and call you blessed, if you guide 
their feet into the way of peace ; to God, who offers to be- 
come the never-slumbering keeper of you and yours, and to 
uphold your going out and coming in from this time forth for 
ever. These are the considerations I have urged. Some of 
you may think that I should have succeeded better, if I had 
dwelt on the beautiful and picturesque of family religion ; if 
I had carried you back to the time when the glory of domes- 
tic piety had her habitation in our land, when villages and 
towns presented a look of Sabbath quietness at the hour of 
morning prayer, and when night succeeding night, repeated 
the praises of God from the lonely upland cottage to the 
hamlet on the plain. I might have done this ; and I might 
have planted you amidst the worshipping household, and 
invited you to listen to the cordial music of their psalm, and 
the pathos and fervor of their prayer. But one thing hin- 
ders me. I know that all that is beautiful and picturesque 
in domestic devotion has not only been witnessed, but de- 
scribed by those whom its loveliness could never win to an 



THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 19 

{mitation. It is one thing for a heart full of sensibility to be 
touched by contemplating the beauty and the joys of true 
devotion, and quite another thing for a renewed heart to feel 
these joys. Hundreds have been melted by the matchless 
poem in which the bard of Scotland describes the worship of 
a cottage patriarch ; but the Cotter's Saturday Night never 
taught any man to pray. It is told of Sir Walter Scott, 
that sometimes in an evening he took his guests to an arbor 
on his lawn, and let them hear the distant music of a sacred 
tune. It came from the cottage of one of his dependents, 
and fell touchingly on the ear of the great minstrel himself; 
but it only touched the ear. He and his visitors went back 
to the drawing-room at Abbotsford, but it was not to raise, 
with their better skill, an evening hymn of thanksgiving to 
the God of all their mercies. The distant cadence of a cov- 
enanting melody was somewhat romantic, but nearer at 
hand it would have blended ill with the dance and the 
tabret. They all agreed that the voice of psalms from a cot- 
tage was picturesque — but that in the mansion, the harp 
and the viol would be more appropriate.* If higher consid- 

* These merry halls were soon after silent, and '' the voice 
of harpers, and musicians, and of pipers," has never since been 
heard in them. The " psalm-singing" servant was a brother 
born for adversity, and on the breaking-up of the establishment, 
refused to leave his master ; and rather than leave him, offered 
to serve for nothing. In his new post of ploughman, it affected 
the poor baronet to hear " Old Peep" whistling to liis team, as 
he trod the fresh-turned furrows. It was a change to both : but 
it would seem that the one possessed a source of perennial joy, 
which outward calamities could not dry up nor trouble. And 
after all, in an angel's eye, which is the greater genius — the 
sublimer spirit : the poet on his Pegasus, or the peasant who, in 
the hour of calamity, can take the wings of a dove, and fly away 
and be at rest? Who, that has read the latter days of Robert 
Burns, does not wish that he had been his own Colter? He 
sometimes wished it himself The son of Bosor is not tlie only 
man whom the sight of Jacob's goodly tents has made to sigh, 
"Let me die the death of the righteous.' 



20 THE CHURCH IN THE HOUSE. 

erations have no weight, I am sure that a little picture-Avork 
will not prevail upon you. 

Fathers and brethren, some of you are the heads of happy 
families to-day. All that I ask is, that you would make 
them happier still — happy, not only in your love, but in the 
love of God the Saviour — happy for time, and through eternity. 
The happiest family will not be always so. The most smil- 
ing circle will be in tears some day. All that I ask is, that 
you would secure, for yourselves and your children, a friend 
in that blessed Redeemer, who will wipe all tears from all 
faces. Your families may soon be scattered, and familiar 
voices may cease to echo within your walls. They may go 
each to his own, and some of them may go far away. 
see to it, that the God of Bethel goes with them, that they 
set up an altar even on a distant shore, and sing the Lord's 
song in that foreign land. They may be taken from this 
earth altogether, and leave you alone. see to it, that as 
one after another goes, it may be to their Father's house 
above, and to sing with heavenly voices, and to a heavenly 
harp, the song which they first learned from you, and with 
you often sung together here — the song of Moses and the 
Lamb. And if you be taken, and some of them be left, see 
to it that you leave them the thankful assurance that you 
are gone to their Father and your Father, their God and 
your God. And in the meanwhile, let your united worship 
be so frequent and so fervent, that when you are taken from 
their head, the one whose sad office it is to supply your 
place as priest of that household, shall not be able to select 
a chapter or a psalm, with which your living image and 
voice are not associated, and in which you, though dead, are 
not yet speaking to them. And thus, my heart's wish for 
you all — 

" When soon or late you reach that coastj 
O'er life's rough ocean driven, 
May you rejoice, no wanderer lost, 
A family in heaven." 



no. 590. 

THE 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

BY REV. SAMUEL DAVIES, 

PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY. 



" The wicked is driven away in his wickedness," says the 
wisest of men ; " but the righteous hath hope in his death." 
Men will leave the world according to their conduct in it ; 
and be happy or miserable hereafter, according to their 
improvement of the present state of trial. 

" The wicked is driven away in his wickedness " — he 
dies as he lived : he lived in wickedness, and in wickedness 
he dies. His wickedness sticks fast upon him, when his 
earthly enjoyments, his friends, and all created comforts leave 
him for ever. The guilt of his wickedness lies heav}' upon 
him, like a mountain of lead, ready to sink him into the 
depth of misery. And the principles of wickedness which 
he indulged all his life, still live within him, even in the 
agonies of death ; nay, they now arrive at a dreadful immor- 
tality, and produce an eternal hell in his breast. He leaves 
behind him not only all his earthly comforts, but all the 
little remains of goodness he seemed to have while under the 
restraints of divine grace ; and he carries nothing but his 
wickedness along with him. With this dreadful attendant 
he must pass to the tribunal of his Judge. To leave his 
earthly all behind him, and die in the agonies of dissolving 
nature — this is terrible. But to die ui his wickedness — this 
is infinitely the most terrible of all. 

He once flattered himself, that though he lived in wick- 
edness, he should not die in it. He adopted many resolu- 
tions to amend, and forsake his wickedness, towards the close 
of life, or upon a death-bed. But how is he disappointed. 
After all his promising purposes and hopes, he died as he 
lived, in wickedness This is generally the fate of veterans 

VOL. XII. 3s* 



2 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

in sin. They are resolving and re-resolving to reform all 
their lives ; but after all, they die the same. They purpose 
to prepare for death and eternity ; but they have always 
some objections against the present time. They have always 
something else to do to-day, and therefore they put off this 
work till to-morrow ; to-morrow comes, and instead of re- 
forming, they die in their wickedness — to-morrow comes, and 
they are in hell. Oh that the loiterers of this generation 
would take warning from the ruin of thousands of their un- 
happy ancestors who have perished by the dread experiment. 

And are not some of you in danger of splitting upon the 
same rock ? Are not some of you conscious, that if you 
should die this moment, you would die in your wickedness ? 
And yet you have little fear of dying in this manner : no ; 
you purpose yet to become very good, and prepare for death 
before you die. So thousands who are now in hell pur- 
posed as strongly as you. The time for repentance was still 
an hereafter to them, till it was irrecoverably past. They 
were snatched away unexpectedly by the sudden hand of 
death, and knew not where they were, till they found them- 
selves in eternity, and thus they had no time for this work ; 
or their thoughts were so much engrossed with their pains, 
that they had no composure for it ; or they found their sins, 
by long indulgence, were become invincibly strong, their 
hearts judicially hardened, and all the influences of divine 
grace withdrawn ; so that the work became impossible. And 
thus they died in their sins. And if any of you be so fool- 
hardy as to imitate them in their delays, you may expect to 
die as they did. 

" The wicked is driven away in his wickedness" — driven 
away in spite of all his reluctance. Let him cling to life 
never so fast, yet he must go. All his struggles are vain, 
and cannot add one moment to his days. Indeed, the wicked 
have so little taste for heaven, and are so much in love with 
this world, that if they leave it at all, they must be driven 
out of it — driven out of it, whether they will or not. When 
they hope for heaven, they do in reality consider it but a 
shift, or a refuge when they can no longer live in this their 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 3 

favorite world. They do not at all desire it, in comparison 
vidth this world. Here they would live for ever, if they 
could have their will. But let them grasp never so hard, 
they must let go their hold. They must be driven away, like 
chaff before the whirlwind — driven away into the regions 
of misery — into the regions of misery, I say ; for certainly 
the happiness of heaven was never intended for such as are 
so disaffected to it, and prefer this wretched world, with all 
its cares and sorrows, before heaven itself. 

This is the certain doom of the wicked. But who are 
they ? Though the character be so common among us, yet 
there are few that will own it. It is an odious character ; 
and therefore few will take it to themselves. But there is 
no room for flattery in the case ; and therefore we must in- 
quire, Who are the wicked ? I answer, all that habitually 
indulge themselves in the practice of any known wicked- 
ness — all that neglect the God that made them, and the 
Saviour that bought them — all that live in the wilful omis- 
sion of the known duties of religion and morality — all that 
have never known by experience what it is to repent and 
beheve ; in a word, all that are in their natural state, and 
have never felt a change of spirit and practice so great and 
important, that it may be called with propriety, a new birth, 
or a new creation — all such, without exception, are wicked. 
They are wicked in reality, and in the sight of God, how- 
ever righteous they may be in their own eyes, or however 
unblamably some of them may conduct themselves before 
men. 

May you make an impartial inquiry into a matter so 
important ; and if you find the character of the wicked is 
yours, believe it, you must share in the dreadful doom of the 
wicked, if you continue such. 

But " THE RIGHTEOUS HATH HOPE IN HIS DEATH." To 

have hope in death, is to have hope in the most desperate 
extremity of human nature. Then the spirits flag, and the 
heart sinks, and all the sanguine hopes of blooming health 
and prosperity vanish. Then all hopes from things below — 



4 HOrE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

all expectations of happiness from all things under the sun, 
are cut oil". All hopes of escaping the arrest of death are 
fled, when the iron grasp of its cold hand is felt. Even in 
these hopeless circumstances, the righteous man hath hope. 
The foundation of his hope must be well laid, it must be 
firm indeed, w^hen it can stand such shocks as these. It is 
evident, the objects of his hope must lie beyond the grave ; 
for on this side of it all is hopeless. His friends and phj^si- 
cian despair of him ; and he despairs of himself as to all the 
prospects of this mortal life. But he does not despair of a 
happier life in another state. No ; he hopes to live and be 
happy, when the agonies of death are over ; and this hope 
bears him up under them. 

This hope I intend to consider as to its objects, its grounds 
and evidences, and its various degrees and limitations. 

I. The OBJECTS of the righteous man's hope in death. 
And here I shall only mention his hope of support in death — 
of the immortality of his soul — of the resurrection of his 
body — and of perfect happiness in heaven. 

1. The righteous man has an humble hope of support in 
death. He has repeatedly intrusted himself into the faith- 
ful hands of an almighty Saviour, for life and death, for 
time and eternity ; and he humbly hopes his Saviour will 
not forsake him now — now, when he most needs his assist- 
ance. This was St. Paul's support under the prospect of his 
last hour : "I know in whom I have believed, and I am 
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have com- 
mitted unto him against that day." 2 Tim. 1:12. As if 
he had said, Finding my own weakness, I have committed 
my all into another hand ; and I have committed it to one 
whose ability and faithfulness have been tried by thousands 
as well as myself, and therefore I am confident he will keep 
the sacred deposit, and never suffer it to be injured or lost. 
This was also the support of the psalmist : " Though I 
walk," says he, " through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me : thy rod and thy 
staff they comfort me." Psalm 23 : 4: Yea, it was upon 
this support St. Paul leaned, when he braved death in that 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 5 

triumphant language : " Who shall separate us from the love 
of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or 
famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these 
things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved 
us. For I am persuaded," says he, " that death" — that sep- 
arates our souls and bodies — that separates friend from 
friend — that separates us from all our earthly comforts, and 
breaks all our connections with this world — even death itself 
" shall never separate us from the love of God which is in 
Christ Jesus." Rom. 8:35-39. What a faithful friend, 
what a powerful guardian is this, who stands by his people, 
and bears them up in their last extremity, and makes them 
more than conquerors in the struggle with the all-conquer- 
ing enemy of mankind. How pecuhar a happiness is this, 
to be able to enjoy the comfort of hope in the wreck of hu- 
man nature. How sweet to lean a dying head upon the 
kind arm of an almighty Saviour — how sweet to intrust a 
departing soul as a deposit in his faithful hand. 0, may 
you and I enjoy this blessed support in a dying hour ; and 
may we make it our great business in life to secure it. In 
that gloomy hour our friends may weep, and wring their 
hands around our beds, but they can afford us no help — no 
hope. But Jesus can, as thousands have known by experi-- 
ence. Then he can bring home his promises to the heart ; 
then he can communicate his love, which is better than life ; 
and by his Holy Spirit bear up and encourage the sinking 
soul. Blessed Jesus, what friend can compare to thee ? 

" Jesus can make a dying bed 

Feel soft as downy pillows are, 
While on his breast I lean my head, 

And breathe my life out sweetly there." 

2. The immortality of the soul is an object of the right- 
eous man's hope. He is not like a Bolingbroke, and other 
infidels, who having made it their interest that there should 
be no future state, consider immortality as an object of fear, 
and therefore try to reason themselves out of the belief of it, 
and choose to ingulf themselves in the abyss of annihilation. 
That man has indeed a terrible consciousness of his demerit, 



6 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

who dares not trust himself for ever in the hands of a just 
and. gracious God, but wishes to escape out of his hands, 
though it were by resigning his being. It is not the force of 
argument, that drives our infidels to this. Demonstration 
and certainty were never so much as pretended for it. And 
after all the preposterous pains they take to work themselves 
up to the gloomy hope, that when they die they shall escape 
punishment by the loss of all the sweets of existence ; yet, 
if I may venture to guess at, and divulge the secret, they are 
often alarmed with the dreadful may-be of a future state. 
In their solemn and thoughtful moments their hope wavers. 
They are men of pleasure ; they are merry, jovial, and gay, 
and give a loose to all their licentious passions and appetites. 
But how short, how sordid, how brutal the pleasure ; how 
gloomy, how low, how shocking their highest hope. Their 
highest hope is to bo as truly nothing, in a few years or 
moments hence, as they Vv'ere ten thousand years ago. They 
are men of pleasure, who would lose all their pleasures if 
they were angels in heaven, but would lose none of them 
if they were swine in the mire. 

Blessed be God, this gloomy hope is not the hope which 
the religion of Jesus inspires. No ; he " hath brought life 
and immortality to light through the Gospel." 2 Tim. 1 : 10. 
He opens to the departing soul the endless prospects of a 
future state of being — a state where death shall no more 
make such havoc and desolations among the works of God ; 
but where every thing is vital and immortal. Hence, the 
righteous man hath hope in his death. He has not made it 
best for him that his religion should be false. He is not 
driven to seek for shelter in the gulf of annihilation ; nor to 
combat with the blessed hopes which reason and revelation 
unitedly inspire, as his worst enemies. He wishes and hopes 
to live for ever, that he may for ever enjoy the generous 
pleasure of serving his God, and doing good to his fellow- 
creatures. The belief of immortality is not, indeed, peculiar 
to the righteous : it is the belief of mankind in general, ex- 
cept a few infidels here and there, who are to be regarded as 
monsters in human nature. But this is not so properly the 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 7 

object of hope, as of fear, to multitudes. They wish it were 
false, though they cannot believe it is so. They have no 
joy and peace in believing this ; but, hke devils, they " be- 
lieve and tremble." James 2:19. But to the righteous 
man, this is properly an object of hope : the prospect is pleas- 
ing to him. If it were a dream, which, blessed be God, it 
is not, it is a pleasing dream. If it were a delusion, it is a 
harmless and profitable delusion. It inspires him with no- 
ble pleasures, and excites him to glorious deeds while life 
lasts ; and if it must be entirely given up in death, he will 
sleep as easy as the most stanch unbeliever upon earth who 
lived in the expectation of so terrible a doom. Thus we 
might argue even upon the worst supposition that can be 
made. But we are left in no such uncertainty. This is not 
a pleasing error, but a pleasing truth ; nay, I had almost said, 
a pleasing demonstration. Such it proves to the righteous 
man ; for 0, how pleasing to the offspring of the dust, to 
claim immortality as his inalienable inheritance. How trans- 
porting to a soul just ready to take its flight from the quiv- 
ering lips of the dissolving clay, to look forward through ever- 
lasting ages of felicity, and call them all its own — to sit 
and prognosticate and pause upon its own futurities — to defy 
the stroke of death, and smile at the impotent malice of the 
gaping grave. 0, what a happiness, what a privilege is 
this. And this is what the righteous man in some measure 
enjoys. 

3. The righteous in death has the hope of the resurrec- 
tion of his body. This glorious hope we owe entirely to 
revelation. The ancient philosophers could never discover 
it by their reason ; and when it was discovered by a superior 
light, they ridiculed it as the hope of worms. But this is a 
reviving hope to the righteous in the agonies of death. Those 
old intimate friends, the soul and body, that must now part, 
with so much reluctance, shall again meet and be united in 
inseparable bonds. The righteous man does not deliver up 
his body as the eternal prey of worms, or the irredeemable 
prisoner of the grave ; but his hope looks forward to the 
glorious dreadful morning of the resurrection, and sees the 



8 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

bonds of death bursting, the prison of the grave flying open, 
the mouldering dust collected, and formed into a human body 
once more — a human body most gloriously improved. This 
prospect afibrds a very agreeable support in death, and ena- 
bles the righteous to say with Job, though I die, " 1 know 
that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the 
latter day upon the earth ; and though after my skin worms 
destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." Job 
19:25, 26. "This corruptible shall put on incorruption, 
and this mortal shall put on immortality, and death shall be 
swallowed up in victory. death, where is thy sting ? 
grave, where is thy victory ?" 1 Cor. 15 : 53-55. This is 
an illustrious victory indeed ; a victory over the conqueror 
of conquerors and of all the sons of Adam. And yet, thus 
victorious shall the frail dying believer be made over that 
terror of human nature. 

4. The perfect and everlasting happiness of Iteaven is 
an object of the righteous man's hope in death. He hopes 
to drop all his sins and their attendant train of sorrows be- 
hind him ; and to be perfectly holy and consequently happy 
for ever. He hopes to see his God and Saviour, and to spend 
a happy eternity in society with him, and in his service. He 
hopes to join the company of angels, and of his fellow-saints 
of the human race. He hopes to improve in knowledge, in 
holiness, and in capacities for action and enjoyment, in an 
endless gradation. He hopes to see the face of his God in 
righteousness, and to be satisfied when he awakes with his 
image. Psa. 17 : 15. In short, he hopes to be as happy as 
his nature will possibly admit, through an endless duration. 
0, what a glorious hope is this. This has made many a 
soul welcome death with open arms. This has made them 
desirous " to be with Christ, which is far better." Phil. 
1 : 23. And this has sweetly swallowed up the sensations 
of bodily pain. Indeed, without this, immortality would be 
an object of terror, and not of hope : the prospect would be 
insupportably dreadful. For who can bear the thought of an 
immortal duration spent in an eternal banishment from God 
and all happiness, and in the sufferance of the most exquis- 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 9 

ite pain ? But a happy immortality, what can charm us 
more ? I now proceed, 

II. To THE GROUNDS AND EVIDENCES of SUch a hopC. 

It is a hope iiccidiar to the righteous ; and it is a hope 
that shall never be disappointed, nor put to shame. This, 
alas, is not the common popular hope of the world. Job 
speaks of the hope of the hypocrite, Job 8 : 13 ; 27 : 8 ; and 
One greater than Job tells us, that many will carry their 
false hopes with them to the very tribunal of their Judge. 
When he assures them he never knew them, they hardly 
think him in earnest. " Strange I dost thou not know us ? 
Have we not eaten and drunk in thy presence, and hast thou 
not taught in our streets ?" Luke 13 : 26. St. Paul also 
tells us, that while some are crying peace and safety, and 
apprehend no danger, then sudden destruction cometh upon 
them, as travail upon a woman with child, and they shall 
not escape. 1 Thess. 5:3. This is likewise evidently con- 
firmed by observation ; for how often do we find in fact, that 
many not only hope for immortality, but for immortal happi- 
ness, who give no evidence at all of their title to it, but many 
of the contrary ? Here, then, is a very proper occasion for 
self-examination. Since there are so many false hopes among 
mankind, we should solicitously inquire whether ours will 
stand the test. To assist us in this inquiry, let us consider 
what are the peculiar grounds and evidences of the right- 
eous man's hope. 

Now it will be universally granted, that God best knows 
whom he will admit into heaven, and whom he will ex- 
clude ; that it is his province to appoint the ground of our 
hope, and that constitution according to which we may be 
saved ; that none can be saved but those who have the char- 
acters which he has declared essentially necessary to salva- 
tion ; and that none shall perish who have those characters. 
And hence it follows, that the righteous man's hope is en- 
tirely regulated by the divine constitution, and the declara- 
tions of that holy word which alone gives us certain infor- 
mation in this case. This, I say, is the grand test of a true 
hope ; it expects what God has promised, and it expects it 
vor,. XII. -M) 



10 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

in the way and manner established by him. It is an hum- 
ble, submissive hope : it does not expect happiness, as it 
were, in spite of Him who is the author of it ; but it expects 
happiness just in the manner which he has appointed. 

Now, what has God appointed to be the ground or foun- 
dation of our hope ? St. Paul will tell you. No other foun- 
dation can any man lay than that which is already laid, 
which is Jesus Christ. 1 Cor. 3:11. God himself pro- 
claims, by Isaiah, " Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation, a 
Stone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure founda- 
tion." Isaiah 28 : 16. Jesus Christ, then, is the only sure 
ground of hope, appointed by God himself Or, in other 
words, the free mercy of God, which can be communicated 
only through Jesus Christ, or for his sake, is the only sure 
ground of hope for a sinner. It is upon this, and not upon 
his own righteousness, that the righteous man dares to build 
his hope. He is sensible that every other foundation is but 
a quicksand. He cannot venture to hope on account of his 
own merit, either in whole, or in part. It is in the mercy, 
the mere mercy of God, through Jesus Christ, that he trusts. 
He is gratefully sensible, indeed, that God has wrought many 
good things in him, and enabled him to perform many good 
actions ; but these are not the ground of his hope, but the 
evidences of it : I mean, he does not make these any part of 
his justifying righteousness, but only evidences that he has 
an interest in the righteousness of Christ, which alone can 
procure him the blessings he hopes for. Which leads me to 
add. 

That the evidence of this hope is the righteous man's 
finding, upon a thorough trial, that the characters, which 
God has declared essentially necessary to salvation, do be- 
long to him. Has God declared that the regenerate, that 
believers and penitents, that they who are made holy in 
heart and life, and none but such, shall be saved ? Then is 
my hope true and sure when I hope for salvation, because I 
find these characters belong to me. I know the God of truth 
will keep his word ; and therefore, poor and guilty and un- 
worthy as I am, it is no presumption forme to hope forever- 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTE0U3. H. 

lasting happiness from him, if I find myself to be such as he 
has promised everlasting happiness to. 

This, brethren, is the only valid evidence of a good hope. 
And is this the evidence that encourages you in this impor- 
tant afiair ? Alas, the world is overrun with delusive hopes, 
that are so far from being supported by this evidence, that 
they are supported in direct opposition to it. God has de- 
clared, in the plainest and strongest terms, that no drunkard, 
nor s^^'earer, nor fornicator, nor any similar characters, shall 
inherit his kingdom ; and yet what crowds of drunkards, 
swearers, fornicators, and the like, will maintain their hopes 
of heaven, in spite of these declarations. He has declared, 
with the utmost solemnity, that " except a man be born 
again, he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." John 
3:3. And yet what multitudes presume to hope they shall 
enter there, though they still continue in their natural state, 
and have no evidences at all of their being born again. 
God has declared, that " except we repent, we shall all per- 
ish," Luke 13:3-5, like the infidel Jews; and that "he 
that believeth not, shall be damned." Mark 10:16. And 
yet, how many hope to be saved, though they have never 
felt the kindly relentings of ingenuous, evangelical repent- 
ance, nor the work of faith Avith power wrought upon their 
hearts. AYhat can be more plain than that declaration, 
" Without holiness no man shall see the Lord ?" Heb. 12:14. 
And yet multitudes that hate holiness in their hearts, hope 
to be saved, as well as your precise and sanctified creatures, 
as they call them. In short, the hopes of many are so far 
from being supported by the authority of the Scriptures, that 
they are supported only by the supposition ol" their being 
false. If the Scriptures be true, then they and their hopes 
must perish together ; but if the Scriptures be false, then 
they have some chance to be saved, though it is but a very 
dull chance after all ; for if they have to do with a lying, 
deceitful deity, they have no ground at all of any confidence 
in him : they must be anxiously uncertain what they should 
hope, or what they should iear Irom his hands. Hence, you 
see that we should vindicate the truth of (tocI in these dec- 



12 HOPE OF THE RWHTEOUS. 

larations, even by way of self-defence ; for if the divine ve- 
racity fail in one instance, it becomes doubtful in every in- 
stance, and we have nothing left to depend upon. If they 
may be saved whom God has declared shall perish, then by 
a parity of reason, they may perish whom he has character- 
ized as the heirs of salvation ; and consequently, there is no 
certainty that any Avill be saved at all. Thus, sinners, while 
establishing their own false hopes, remove all ground of hope, 
and leave us in the most dreadful suspense. 

Let US regulate our hopes according to His declaration, 
who has the objects of our hope entirely at his disposal. 
When we pretend to improve upon divine constitutions, or, 
as we think, turn them in our favor, we do in reality but 
ruin them, and turn them against ourselves. Make that, 
and that only, the ground and evidence of your hope, which 
God has made such. Your hope is not almighty,, to change 
the nature of things, or reverse his appointments ; but his 
constitution will stand, and you shall be judged according to 
it, whether you will or not. Do not make that the ground 
or evidence of your hope which he has not so made, or which 
he has pronounced the characteristic of the heirs of hell. 
You hope, perhaps, to be saved, though you live in the wil- 
ful neglect of some known duty, or in the wilful practice of 
some known sin. But has God given you any reason for 
such a hope ? You know he has not, but the contrary. You 
hope he will show mercy to you, because his nature is mercy 
and love, and he is the compassionate Father of his crea- 
tures ; or because Christ has died for sinners. But has he 
given you any assurances, that because he is so merciful — 
because he is so compassionate a Father — because Christ 
has died for sinners, therefore he will save you in your pres- 
ent condition ? You hope to be saved, because you are as 
good as the generality, or perhaps better than many around 
you. But has God made this a sufficient ground of hope ? 
Has he told you, that to be fashionably rehgious, is to be 
sufficiently religious ; or that the way of the multitude leads 
to life ? This may be your hope ; but is it the authentic 
declaration of eternal truth ? You know it is not, but quite 



HOPE OF thl: righteous. 13 

tlie contrary. I might add sundry other instances of unscrip- 
tural hope, but these may suffice as a specimen. And I 
shall lay down this general rule, which will enable you to 
make farther discoveries : namely. Those Ji/jpcs are all fahe 
which are opposite to the declarations of God in his word. 
Certainly this needs no proof to such as believe the divine 
authority of the Scriptures ; and as for infidels, it is not the . 
design of this discussion to deal with them. You who ac- 
knowledge the Scriptures as the foundation of your religion, 
with what face can you entertain hopes unsupported by 
them, or contrary to them : hopes that must be disap- 
pointed if God be true ; and that cannot be accomplished 
unless he prove a liar ? Can you venture your eternal all 
upon such a blasphemous hope as this ? But I proceed to 
consider, 

III. The various degrees and limitations of a good 
hope in death. 

A good hope is always supported by evidence ; and ac- 
cording to the degree of evidence is the degree of hope. When 
the evidence is clear and undoubted, then it rises to a joyful 
assurance ; but when the evidence is dark and doubtful, then 
it wavers, and is weakened by dismal fears and jealousies. 
Now, I have told you already, that the evidence of a good 
hope is a person's discovering, by impartial examination, 
that those characters which God has pronounced the insepa- 
rable characters of those that shall be saved, do belong to 
him ; or that he has those graces and virtues which are at 
once his preparation for heaven, and the evidence of his 
title to it. Now different believers, and even the same per- 
sons at different times, have very different degrees of this 
evidence. And the reason of this difference is, that sundry 
causes are necessary to make the evidence clear and satis- 
factory ; and when any of these are wanting, or do not con- 
cur in a proper degree, then the evidence is dark and doubt- 
ful. In order to be fully satisfied of the truth and reality of 
our graces, it is necessary we should arrive to some eminence 
in them ; otherwise, like a jewel in a heap of rubbish, they 
may be so blended with corruption that it may be impossible 
VOL. XII. 39* 



14 HOPE OF THK RIGHTEOUS. 

to discern them with certainty. Hence, the weak Christian, 
unless he have unusual supplies of divine grace, enters the 
valley of the shadow of death with fear and trembling ; 
whereas he who has made great attainments in holiness, 
enters it with courage, or perhaps with transports of joy. It 
is also necessary to a full assurance of hope, that the Spirit 
of God bear witness with our spirit, that we are the sons of 
God, Rom. 8:16; or that he excite our graces to such a 
lively exercise, as to render them visible by their effects, and 
distinguishable from all other principles. And therefore, if a 
sovereign God see fit to withhold his influences from the 
dying saint, his graces will languish, his past experiences 
will appear confused and doubtful, and consequently his 
mind will be tossed with anxious fears and jealousies. But 
if he be pleased to pour out his Spirit upon him, it will be 
like a ray of heavenly light, to point his way through the 
dark shades of death, and open to him the transporting pros- 
pects of eternal day that lies just before him. 

Another thing that occasions a difference in this case is, 
that an assured hope is the result of frequent self-examina- 
tion; and therefore the Christian that has been diligent in 
this duty, and all his life laboring to make all sure against 
his last hour, generally enjoys the happy fruits of his past 
diligence, and enters the harbor of rest with a " full assur- 
ance of hope," Heb. 6:11; but he that has been negligent 
in this duty, is tossed with billows and tempests of doubts 
and fears, and is afraid of being shipwrecked in sight of the 
port. 

It is also necessary to the enjoyment of a comfortable 
hope in death, that the mind be in some measure cahn and 
ratio7tal, not clouded with the glooms of melancholy, nor 
thrown into a delirium or insensibility by the violence of the 
disorder. And according as this is, or is not the case, a good 
man may enjoy, or not enjoy, the comforts of hope. 

These remarks will help us to discover with what limit- 
ations we are to understand the expression, " The righteous 
hath hope in his death." It does not mean, that every right- 
eous man has the same degree of hope ; or that no righteous 



HOPE OF THE RlGHTEOUs!. 15 . 

man is distressed with fears and doubts in his last moments. 
But it means, 

3 . That every righteous man has a suhstant led reason to 
hope, whether he ck^arly see it or not. His eternal all is really 
safe ; and as all the false hopes of the wicked man cannot 
save Idm, so all the fears of the righteous man cannot destroy 
lilm, though they may aflbrd him some transient pangs of 
horror. He is in the possession of a faithful God, who will 
take care of him ; and notliing shall pluck him out of his 
hands. He sees fit to leave some of his people in their last 
moments to conflict at once with death and wdth their more 
dreadful fears ; but even this will issue in their real advan- 
tage. And what an agreeable surprise will it be to such 
trembling souls, to find death has unexpectedly transported 
them to heaven. 

2. When it is said, " The righteous hath hope in his 
death," it means, that good men, in common, do in fact enjoy 
a comfortable hope. There never was one of them that was 
suffered to fall into absolute despair in this last extremity. 
In the greatest agonies of fear and suspicion, the trembling 
soul has still some glimmering hope to support it ; and its 
gracious Saviour never abandons it entirely. And it is 
the more common case of the saints to enjoy more comfort 
and confidence in death, than they were wont to do in life. 
Many that in life were wont to shudder at every danger, and 
fly at the sound of a shaking leaf, have been emboldened at 
death to meet the king of terrors, and to welcome his fiercest 
assault. The soldiers of Jesus Christ have generally left 
this mortal state in triumph, though this is not an universal 
rule. And who would not wish and pray for such an exit, 
that he may do honor to his God and Saviour, and to his 
religion, with his last breath ; that he may discover to the 
world, that religion can bear him up when all otlier supports 
prove a broken reed ; and that his last words may sow the 
seeds of piety in the hearts of those that sun'ound his dying 
bed ? This every good man should pray and wish lor, though 
it must be left in the hands of a sovereign God to do as he 
pleases. 



16 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

3. When it is said, " The righteous hath hope in his 
death," it may mean, that the hope which he hath in death 
shall be accomiolhhed. It is not a flattering', delusive dream, 
but a glorious reality ; and therefore deserves the name. His 
" hope shall not make him ashamed," Rom. o : 5, but shall 
be fulfilled, and even exceeded. However high his expecta- 
tions, death will convey him to such a state as will afford 
him an agreeable surprise ; and he will find that it never 
entered into his heart to conceive the things that God hath 
laid up for him, and for all that love him. 1 Cor. 2:9. 

This is the glorious peculiarity of the good man's hope. 
Many carry their hope with them to death, and will not give 
it up till they give up the ghost. But as it is ungrounded, 
it will end in disappointment and confusion. And 0, into 
what a terrible consternation will it strike them, to find 
themselves surrounded with flames, when they expected to 
land on the blissful coasts of paradise — to find their Judge 
and their conscience accusing and condemning instead of 
acquitting them — to find their souls plunged into hell under 
a strong guard of devils, instead of being conducted to heaven 
by a glorious convoy of angels — to feel the pangs and hor- 
rors of everlasting despair succeed, in an instant, to the flat- 
tering prospect of delusive hope — to fall back to hell from the 
very gates of heaven. 0, what a shocking disappointment, 
what a terrible change is this ! 

Therefore, now make sure work. Do not venture your 
souls upon the broken reed of false hope. But " give all 
diligence to make your calling and election sure." 2 Peter, 
1:10, Now, you may make a profitable discovery of your 
mistake ; if your hope be ungrounded, you have now time 
and means to obtain a good hope through grace. But then 
it will be too late : your only chance, if I may so speak, will 
be lost ; and you must for ever stand by the consequences. 
0, can you bear the thought of taking a leap in the dark into 
the eternal world ; or of owing your courage only to a delu- 
sive dream ? Why will you not labor to secure so important 
an interest, beyond all rational possibility of a disappoint- 
ment ? Have you any. thing else to do which is of greater, 



HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 17 

ofeqiial, or comparable importance ? Do you think yon will 
approve of this neglect upon a dying bed, or in the eternal 
world ? 

Let this subject strengthen the hope of those whose hope 
will stand the Scripture test. You must die, 'tis true ; your 
bodies must be the food of worms ; but be of good courage, 
your almighty and immortal Saviour will support you in the 
hour of your extremity, and confer immortality upon you. 
He will also quicken your mortal bodies, and reunite them 
to your souls, and make your whole persons as happy as your 
natures will admit. Blessed be God, you are safe from all 
the fatal consequences of the original apostasy, and your own 
personal sin. Death, the last enemy, which seems to sur- 
vive all the rest, shall not triumph over you ; but even death 
itself shall die, and be no more. 0, haj)py people, who is 
like unto you, a people saved by the Lord. Deut. 33 : 29. 

Let me now conclude with a melancholy contrast : I 
mean, tlie tcrctched condition of the icickcd in a dying hour. 
Some of them, indeed, have a hope, a strong hope, which the 
clearest evidence camiot wrest from them. This may afford 
them a little delusive support in death ; but upon the whole, 
it is their plague : it keeps them from spending their last 
moments in seeking after a well-grounded hope ; and as soon 
as their souls are separated from their bodies, it exposes them 
to the additional confusion of a dreadful disappointment. 
Others of them live like beasts, and like beasts they die ; 
that is, as thoughtless, as stupid, about their eternal state, 
as the brutes that perish. 0, what a shocking sight is the 
death-bed of such a stupid sinner. Others, who with a great 
deal of pains, made a shift to keep their consciences easy in 
the gay hours of health and prosperity, when death and eter- 
nity stare them in the face, find this sleeping lion rousing, 
roaring, and tearing them to pieces. They had a secret con- 
sciousness before, that they had no ground for a comfortable 
hope ; but they suppressed the conviction, and would not re- 
gard it. But now it revives, and they tremble with a fearful 
expectation of wrath and fiery indignation. This is especially 
the usual doom of such as have lived under a faithful min- 



18 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

istry, and have had a clear hght of the Gospel and just no- 
tions of divine things forced upon their unM^illing minds. It 
is not so easy for them as for others to flatter themselves with 
false hopes, in the honest, impartial hour of. death. Their 
knowledge is a magazine of arms for their consciences to use 
to toi-ment them. 0, in what horrors do some of them die ; 
and how much of hell do they feel upon earth. 

Nay, this is sometimes the doom of some infidel profli- 
gates, who flattered themselves they could contemn the bug- 
bear of a future state, even in death. They thought they 
had conquered truth and conscience, but they find themselves 
mistaken : they find these are insuppressible, victorious, im- 
mortal ; and that, though with mountains overwhelmed, 
they will one day burst out like the smothered fires of 
^tna, visibly bright and tormenting. Of this the cele- 
brated Dr. Young gives us a most melancholy instance — an 
instance of a youth of noble birth, fine accomplishments, and 
large estate, who imbibed the infidel principles of deism so 
fashionable in high life, and debauched himself with sensual 
indulgences ; who, by his unkind treatment broke the heart 
of an amiable wife, and by his prodigality squandered his 
estate, and thus disinherited his only son. Hear the tragical 
story from the author's own words. 

" The sad evening before the death of that noble youth, 
I was there. No one was with him but his physician, and 
an intimate whom he loved and whom he had ruined by 
his infidel principles and debauched practices. At my com- 
ing in, he said, 

" ' You and the physician are come too late. I have 
neither life nor hope. You would aim at miracles — you 
would raise the dead.' 

" Heaven, I said, was merciful 

" ' Or I should not have been so deeply guilty. What 
has it not done to bless and to save me. I have been too 
strong for Omnipotence; I have plucked down ruin.' 

"I said, ' The blessed Redeemer — ' 

" ' Hold, hold ! You wound me. That is the rock on 
which I split — I denied his name, and his religion.' 



HOPE OF THK IIKIHTEOUS. 19 

* " Refusing to hear any thing from me, or take any thing 
from the physician, he lay silent, as far as sudden darts of 
pain would permit, till the clock struck. Then, with vehe- 
mence, ' Oh, Time, Time, it is fit thou shouldst thus strike 
thy murderer to the heart. How art thou fled for ever I 
A month I oh, for a single week I I ask not for years ; 
though an age were too little for the much I have to do I' 

" On my saying, we could not do too much — that heaven 
was a blessed place — 

" ' So much the worse. It is lost, it is lost ! Heaven is 
to me the severest part of hell, as the loss of it is my greatest 
pain.' 

" Soon after, I proposed prayer. 

" ' Pray, you that can. I never prayed — I cannot pray — 
nor need I. Is not heaven on my side already ? It closes 
with my conscience. It but executes the sentence I pass 
upon myself. Its severest strokes but second my own.' 

" His friend being much touched, even to tears, at this, 
with a most affectionate look he said, ' Keep those tears for 
thyself. I have undone thee. Dost thou weep for 7ne? 
That is cruel. What can pain me more ?' 

" Here his friend, too much affected, would have left 
him. 

" ' No, stay. Thou still mayest hope ; therefore hear 
me. How madly have I talked I How madly hast thou 
listened, and believed I But look on my present state, as a 
full answer to thee and to myself. This body is all weak- 
ness and pain ; but my soul, as if stung up by torment to 
greater strength and spirit, is full powerful to reason — full 
mighty to suffer. And that which thus triumphs within the 
jaws of mortality, is, doubtless, immortal : and as for a Deity, 
nothing less than an Almighty could inflict what I feel.' 

" I was about to congratulate this passive, involuntary 
confessor, on asserting the two prime articles of his creed, 
the existence of a God, and the immortality of the soul, ex- 
torted by the rack ol' nature ; Mhen he thus, very passion- 
ately, 

" ' No, no I let me speak on. 1 have not long to speak 



20 HOPE OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

My mucli-iiijured friend I My soul, as my body, lies in. 
ruins — in scattered fragments of broken thought. K-emorse 
for the past throws my thought on the future. Worse dread 
of the future strikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, 
and find no ray. Didst thou feel half the mountain that is 
on me, thou wouldst struggle with the martyr for his stake, 
and bless heaven for the flames. That is not an everlasting 
flame ; that is not an unquenchable fire.' 

" How were we struck I Yet, soon after, still more. 
With an eye of distraction, with a face of despair, he cried 
out, ' My principles have poisoned my friend ; my extrava- 
gance has beggared my boy ; my unkindness has murdered 
my wife. And is there another hell ? Oh, thou blasphemed, 
yet most indulgent Lord God, hell itself is a refuge, if it 
hides me from thy frown.' 

" Soon after, his understanding failed. His terrified 
imagination uttered horrors not to be repeated, or ever for- 
got. And, ere the sun — which I hope has seen few like 
him — arose, the gay, young, noble, ingenious, accomplished, 
and most wretched Altamont expired." 

Is not this tragical instance a loud warning to all, and 
especially to such as may be walking in the steps of this 
unhappy youth ? " Men may live fools, but fools they can- 
not die." Death will make them wise, and show them 
their true interest, when it is too late to secure it. Igno- 
rance and thoughtlessness, or the principles of infidelity, may 
make men live like beasts ; but these will not enable them 
to die like beasts. May we live as candidates for immor- 
tality. May we now seek a well-established hope, that will 
stand the severest trial. And may we labor to secure the 
protection of the Lord of life and death, who can be our 
sure support in the wreck of dissolving nature. May we 
live the life, that we may die the death of the righteous ; 
and find that dark valley a short passage into the world of 
bliss and glory. 



No. 531. 

CHRIST 

A 

COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST 

BY REV. EDWARD D. GRIFFIX. D. D. 



In the person of our Redeemer, who is very man as well 
as God, is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah, that "a man 
shall be as a hiding-place from the ivind, and a covert 
from, the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the 
shadow of a great rock in a wear?/ land.'' Isa. 32 : 2. 

In a serene day when no wind is up, when no rain is 
falling, a man may see by the wayside a shelving rock and 
may pass by it without emotion. Not so the weary trav- 
eller who is fleeing before the rising storm or the beating 
tempest. 

In a season of rain, or in a land of waters, one may pass 
by a river with little interest. Not so a traveller in the 
Arabian de.?erts, surrounded with burning sands, fainting 
\\'\i\\ heat, and parched with thirst. The sight of a streargi 
of water, and especially of " rivers of water," in such a 
place, would transport him. 

In a country covered with wood or pinched with cold, 
a huge rock might offer its shade unwelcome ; but amidst 
the parched wastes of Arabia, where the weary traveller, 
exposed all day to the intense heat of a vertical sun, sees 
not a tree nor a shrub, but only one boundless waste of burn- 
ing sand — tJiere a cool retreat beneath the shade of an over- 
hanging cHfi^ — there " the shadow of a great rock in a weary 
land," would be most welcome. 

These observations suggest a principal reason why the 
Saviour of the world, whose very name ouglit to be music 
to every human ear, is treated with such cruel indifference 
by the greater part of mankind. It is because they do not 
ieel their guilt, and misery, and need of a Saviour. They 
are blind to the infinite majesty, and holiness, and loveliness 

VOL. XII. 40 



2 CHRIST A COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST. 

of God, and to the immense obligations by which they are 
bomid to him ; and therefore they do not see the infinite 
guilt of rebelling against all his commands, all his mercies, 
all his glories and interests ; and therefore they are not 
pressed down under a sense of their awful condemnation and 
ruin. Hell is not laid open before them as their proper pun- 
ishment. They do not stand amazed at the patience which 
has kept them out of it so long. They do not see themselves 
to be utterly ruined, and utterly helpless and hopeless with- 
out a Saviour. And therefore his precious Gospel, which 
ought to fill the world with wonder and delight, with grati- 
tude and praise, is cast aside as an idle tale, and the name 
of Jesus is treated with the most dreadful indiiference. 

But let a man be thoroughly convicted of sin ; let him 
see himself covered with pollution from the head to the 
foot ; let him stand in sight of the eternal judgment, and 
apprehend that divine justice has no choice but to crush 
him into everlasting torment ; let him see himself just about 
to receive the descending wrath of God with the weight of 
a thousand worlds ; and in that awful moment let him ob- 
tain a glimpse of Jesus, who came to " save his people from 
their sins ;" let him lift his trembling eye to a God reconciled 
in Christ and smihng upon him : I ask that man, " What" 
now " think you of Christ ?" "0," says he — but language 
fails. A sacred reverence settles upon his countenance ; 
his uplifted eye speaks unutterable things. I see it glisten, 
I see it weep. "0," says he. His hands are clenched and 
forcibly raised to his breast. The opening of the last judg- 
ment could not add solemnity to a single feature. " 0, the 
height and the depth, the length and the breadth of the 
love of Christ I Where has this glorious mystery lain hid, 
that I have never seen it before?" To such an eye, how 
precious does the Saviour appear as the great medium 
through which the love of God has come down to men — as 
the Word by which all the wonders of the eternal Mind are 
expressed — as the great Prophet who has brought down all 
the instructions that have blessed the world from the days 
of Eden — as the Priest whose atonement and intercession 
have astonished heaven and earth — as the King who has 
governed the world from the beginning, and has always pro- 
tected and provided for his people, and has all their interests 
in his hands, and all Ihe treasures of the luiiverse to impart. 



CHRIST A COVERT FRU.M THE TEMPEST. 3 

' To one who is indifierent to the blessedness of communion 
with God and of conformity to him, there appears no form 
or comehncss in Christ why he should desire him. But to 
one who feels an insatiable eagerness to rise from this dark 
world to a knowledge of all the grand and interesting things 
which are taking place in the kingdom of God — who longs 
to be united to all holy beings, and to share in their immor- 
tal friendship and blessedness and honors — who has no 
desire so great as to be good and conformed to the God he 
loves ; to such a one Jesus must appear exceedingly precious 
as the one appointed to open the universe to view, to pour 
all its light upon the eye, and to exalt the soul to all its 
purity, to all its dignity, to all its happiness. 

To an anxious and afflicted soul the Saviour appears 
peculiarly interesting in the light in which he is exhibited 
by the prophet. In the charming simplicity of eastern fig- 
ure, he is presented '' asa hiding-jilace from theicind, and 
a covert frorn the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, 
as the shadow of a great rock in a iveary land.'' Here are 
three separate figures, very striking to an eastern ear, which 
admit of distinct illustrations. 

" A hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the 
tempest." This is but one figure; for the latter clause, as 
is common in eastern poetry, is only the echo of the former, 
presenting a hiding-place and covert from the windy. storm 
and tempest. 

Jesus is found to be the best hiding-place and covert 
from the winds and tempests of affliction. A poor discon- 
solate soul, after it has been chased through the world by 
the frowns of pursuing fortune — after it has been hunted 
from place to place, and not sufiered to rest in any corner 
of creation — will find in Christ tliat protection and repose 
which all other places denied it. The weather-beaten wretch, 
after bearing the storms of this inclement world through the 
long night of affliction, may find in him a shelter under which 
he may hear the tempest howl without, and feel it not. 

Jesus is the best hiding-place and covert from the tem- 
pest of an agitated conscience. When the liixhtning of con- 
viction flashes upon the soul, and guilt with its thundering 
voice spreads its dark folds over the mind, nowhere but in 
Jesus can be found a covert from the bursting storm. To 
what other refuge can a sinner fly when the horrid nature 



4 CHRIST A COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST. 

of his rebellion is laid open before him ? At what time his 
ingratitude to the God that made, redeemed, and preserves 
hirri appears ; at what time he is terrified and confounded 
by the frequent repetition of his sins and the obstinacy of 
his corruptions ; at what time guilt, superadded to guilt, 
rolls its dark wreaths over the soul, like clouds that " return 
after the rain," nowhere but in Jesus can he find a refuge 
from the gathering tempest. The blood of Christ, sprinkling 
his conscience from dead works, has a wonderful power to 
relieve from the pangs of conscious guilt. It is the most 
sovereign balm to a wounded spirit. " Give me Jesus or I 
die," cries the agonized soul. "None but Christ, none but 
Christ. Take away that cloud that I may see him, and I 
shall live." What other refuge can a soul find that is racked 
with guilt ? Let him go to his wealth, his honors, his pleas- 
ures ; they are all unsavory ashes in the mouth of a man 
dying with hunger. Let him go to philosophy, it is a 
stranger to his case, and knows nothing either of his griefs 
or his wants. Let him go to speculative divinity, it is no 
physician, but only a corpse laid by the side of a dying man. 
Let him go to the courts of the Lord — let him go to his 
Bible, to his knees, and all without Christ are nothing. Let 
him go to God, and God out of Christ "is a consuming fire." 
But let him only come in sight ot" Jesus, and get near enough 
to " touch " if it be but " the hem of his garment," and all 
his pains are instantly relieved — the fire in his conscience 
is quenched, and he is as much at ease as though he never 
felt a pain. 

Jesus is also the best covert from the tempest oi fear 
when it agitates the soul. There is a material difietence 
between conscious guilt and the apprehension of punishment, 
although, like light and heat, they generally go together I 
see a sinner convulsed with the fear of a judgment to come. 
With an eye wildly rolling and marked with horror, I hear 
him cry, " Who can dwell with devouring fire ? who can 
inhabit everlasting burnings ?" His anxious eye looks above 
and beneath, and searches creation through, but not a ray 
of hope can it find — nothing but clouds, and darkness, and 
tempests. At length it falls on Jesus. Listantly the heav- 
ens are calm ; the sound of the distant storm dies upon his 
soothed ear, and every care is still. 

Jesus is the only hiding-place from the tempest oi divine 



CHRIST A COVERr FROM THE TEMl'EST. 5 

icrath. A rock of adamant he stood and suffered this storm 
to spend its force ou him; while his people, enclosed "in 
him," lay hid from the beating tempest. The storm is past, 
and now their faith looks abroad and sees an unclouded sky, 
and all nature smiling in fresher beauties than though no 
storm had been. 

To finish the illustration of this figure, Jesus is the only 
hiding-place from the storms and tempests which fur ever 
beat upon the regions of the damned. Not to tJicni is he 
a covert. They rejected the canopy of his grace when he 
would willingly have spread it over them ; and now he is 
nothing to them. But to his own dear people, he will be a 
covert from the eternal storm. 

He shall be ''as rivers of water in a dry j)! ace." The 
most obvious idea on the face of this figure is, that Jesus 
conveys satisfaction and refreshment to those who can find 
them nowhere else. There is a thirst for happiness in the 
soul of man, but there is a drought in all things but in God ; 
and for human souls, a drought in all things but in the God 
that shines " in the face of Jesus Christ." JSuch is the con- 
stitution of things, that no man can find satisfaction but in 
the Christ of God. Nor will any ever find it there but those 
who despair of finding it anywhere else. But " when the 
poor and needy seek water and tliere is none, and their 
tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the 
God of Israel will not forsake them : I will open rivers in 
high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys ; I will 
make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land 
springs of water." 

When one has ranged creation through in search of hap- 
piness — has sought it in the field and in the city, in the 
haunts of business and in the circles of pleasure, and has 
met with nothing but disappointment and rebulls ; wlien he 
has wandered restless from scene to scene, from employment 
to employment, perhaps from country to country ; when, a 
pilgrim in the deserts of life, he finds himself " in a dry and 
thirsty land where no water is," and faints to think that 
happiness is nowhere to be found ; then the Gospel meets 
him, and thus accosts him : Wherefore seekest thou " the 
living among the dead ?" It is not here. Return from 
thine idle pursuit. There is but one point whence refresh- 
VOL. xu. lO*" 



6 CHRIST A COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST. 

merit can come. Lift thine eyes to the Saviour of sinners. 
He hfts his eyes; he lifts his heart; and finds "waters" 
breaking out " in the wilderness — and streams in the desert." 
Ah, says he, this is where I should have come before. It 
would have saved me many sore disappointments and many 
years of anguish. 

When one is plucked and crushed by the hand of adver- 
sity — has found nothing but grief and perplexity in his con- 
nection with the M^oiid — carries the aching wounds where 
friends that have been torn away once grew to his heart — 
mourns alone without father or mother, without brother or 
sister, without wife or child — unpitied by the crowd of 
strangers that gaze upon him and pass him by — while his 
tattered garments remind him of better days ; I hasten to 
the turf w^here he sits weeping, and gently, lest 1 should 
alarm the ear of grief, say to him, " Hath no man pitied 
thee?" "Ah," says he, "I am 'in a dry and thirsty land 
where no water is ;' no satisfaction or refreshment for a 
wretch crushed beneath misfortune." " From my soul I pity 
you, but do not despair. Let me lead you to the mourner's 
Friend." I bring him to Jesus: and when I see the balm 
applied to his w^ounds, and the countenance of the sufierer 
beginning to brighten, I take my leave, and return to ray 
house with delicious sensations that an infidel never knew. 

Here is another pressed under a sense of heavy guilt. 
He also is in a land where no water is. He has sought on 
all sides for relief, but sought in vain. His thirst is for rec- 
onciliation with God. Li quest of this he has applied to 
external refiirmation, to outward duties, to the means of 
grace. He has sought the counsel of ministers and Chris- 
tians, and has tried to repose on the good opinions of others. 
He has made the desperate attempt to rest on universalism, 
and even on infidelity ; but all to no purpose. The fever of 
his mind remains. His thirst for pardon and peace is una- 
bated ; but nowhere can he find any thing to allay it, till 
at last he approaches the Gospel. He hears it say, " If any 
man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink." His attention 
is strongly arrested. He examines the passage. It is the 
voice of the Saviour himself. He ultimately seizes the invi- 
tation and goes to him ; and his astonished soul finds this 
way of salvation exactly suited to his wants. He finds within 
"him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." 



CHRIST A COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST. 7 

* The last figure employed by the prophet, though appro- 
priate and striking, conveys no meaning materially dilierent 
from the other two. The idea is that of rest in a cool and 
refreskiug liace. " As the shadow of a great rock in a 
weary land." The figure represents a traveller in one of 
the eastern deserts, burnt M'ith intense heat, worn out with 
toil, fainting for water, for shade. His resolution and strength 
lail. He abandons the hope of ever reaching the end of the 
desert ; when all at once he discovers before him a high 
impending rock, under the cavity of whose side he finds a 
refreshing shelter from the scorcliing sun and burning sand. 
ISuch a retreat does our dear Redeemer ^afibrd to those who 
are fainting under the labors and discouragements of this 
\vearisome life. This vale of tears may well he called a 
^veary land. There are many in it who are ready to fauit 
under the load of affliction, and can say with Job, " My soul 
is weary of my life." Many are weary of sin — Avearied out 
with a long course of painful struggles with the world, the 
flesh, and the devil — are often discouraged with the great- 
ness of the contest, and sink under the apprehension that 
they shall never get through with safety. These evils press 
them so hard that they often sigh for ihe grave where the 
weary are at rest. But a nearer and more delightful retreat 
is to be Ibund in him who says, " The Lord hath given me 
the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak 
a word in season to him that is weary." " I have satiated 
the weary soid, and I have replenished every sorrowful soul'" 
When his Church wandered forty years in the Arabian wil- 
derness, among burning sands, witiiout a shelter or a shade, 
he covered them by day M'ith a pillar of cloud. What this 
was intended to signify, appears from the ap])lication made 
of il by the prophet : " The Lord shall create upon every 
dwelliiig-})la(;e of mount Zion, and upon her assemblies, a 
cloud and smoke by day, and the shining of a flaming fire 
by night ; for upon all the glory shall be a defence. And 
there shall be a tabernacle for a sJuidow in the daytime 
from tli.e heat, and for a place of refuge, and for a covert 
trom storm and from rain." 

At what time a j)oor fainting soul, weary of atlliclion, 
weary of sin, weary of" temptation, casts itself under the 
shadow of this rock, he feels a sensation of relief" which 
nothing else can bring, and which none can fully describe. 



8 CHRitsT A COVERT FROM THE TEMPEST. 

My brethren, what everlasting thanks do we owe to God 
for providing such a refuge from the beating tempest — such 
rivers of refi-eshmeiit in a dry and thirsty land. What could 
the weather-beaten pilgrim, what could the faint and weary 
traveller do without them in such a world as- this? How 
greatly does this view tend to endear the Saviour to us. 
What new motives rush upon the mind to abide in him, 
that we may eveiy hour enjoy a " hiding-place from the 
wind, and a covert from the tempest" — that we may con- 
stantly lie at the fountain of living waters, and feel the 
permanent shadow of a great rock in a weary land. Why 
do the people of God find so little rehef from the distresses 
of life and the troubles of conscience, but because they 
abide no more in their everlasting refuge ? 

How surprising it is, that in a world where a covert from 
the tempest is so much needed, it is so much neglected, and 
that even by those who have often found it a shelter when 
every other refuge failed. Would it not be strange to see a 
person ready to die with heat and thirst by the very side of 
a cooling fountain, and by the shade of an overhanging 
rock ? Yet a still greater wonder is witnessed here. 

May not these sweet and heavenly truths be allowed to 
"light up a smile in the aspect of woe?" Will not mourn- 
ers in Zion come to this refuge and dry up their tears ? 
Were you confined to these stormy regions without a shelter, 
you might well beat your breasts like one distracted. But 
now what need ? Many there are who know the truth of 
what I say ; who have often found refuge here, and seen the 
agitations of the tempest composed, and all the fury of the 
storm appeased. The same shelter is ever at hand, and is 
always offered to you ; and at what time you are afraid, you 
may always find in Christ a sure retreat. What occasion 
have you, then, for these desponding griefs ? What abundant 
reason have you to "rejoice evermore." And while we 
thus enjoy the blessed fruits of a iSaviour's dying love, let 
our souls arise and praise him ; let a thousand tender recol- 
lections rise up in our hearts ; and let us renewedly devote 
ourselves to his service, resolving to live to his glory and to 
die with an eye fixed upon his cross. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 593. 



MAllY OF TOULOUSE. 



Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." 
Ps.^LM 119 : 105. 




CHAPTER I. 

Some j'ears ago I left London with my family, for the 
purpose of trying the mild climate of Italy ; but the disturbed 
state of the country at that time, led us to make arrange- 
ments for passing the winter in the south of France. We 
crossed in the packet from Dover to Calais, where we spent 
a few days in procuring information as to the best mode of 
travelling ; and then proceeded to Paris, which we quitted 
at the end of three weeks, journeying by post to the south, 
through Orleans, Chateauroux, Limoges, Montanban, and 
other towns or villages of less note, not knowing exactly 
where we should winter. At length, early in October, we 



2 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

reached Toulouse, a large city, containing about 50,000 
people, and situated in a delightful plain, in the ancient prov- 
ince of Languedoc, only forty or fifty miles distant from the 
Pyrenees, a chain of lofty mountains which divide France 
from Spain. On the banks of the Garonne, which takes its 
rise in those mountains, stands Toulouse, almost surrounded 
by that river and the royal canal of the south, which opens 
a communication from Bordeaux to Cette, joining the Atlan- 
tic ocean to the Mediterranean sea. Toulouse lays claim 
to very high antiquity, being supposed to have existed 615 
years before the Christian era. It was made a Roman col- 
ony by Julius Csesar, and some Roman antiquities may still 
be seen within and near the city. Christianity was first 
planted there about a. d. 245, by one Saturninus, who suffered 
martyrdom by being tied to an ox, and dragged until life 
was extinct. The name of a street commemorates this 
cruelty, and a church is still dedicated to the martyr, who, 
under the title of St. Sernin, is regarded as its patron or 
protector. 

The lateness of the season, and other circumstances, 
induced us to fix on Toulouse as our winter residence. We 
therefore lost no time in seeking for a habitation ; and a 
cottage near the city being recommended, we went immedi- 
ately to see it. It was about half a mile distant from town, 
and belonged to an abbe, who was then from home, but a 
message brought him back speedily. The cottage we went 
to look at stood on a height, giving a delightful view of the 
city and surrounding country, and was called Pavilion, from 
two turrets, which surmounted its wings. It contained six 
rooms and a kitchen, all neatly furnished, and at a moderate 
rent. In front was a small garden, with fruit-trees and 
flower-plants ; in its centre there was a fountain, and at the 
angles of the walks were placed statues representing the four 
seasons. Behind the cottage was a vineyard of about half 
an acre. The grapes had just been gathered, and lodged in 



MARV OF TOULOUSE. 3 

the wine-press, lor the abbe's next year's store of wine. 
Within the vineyard, and round about it, the British troops 
were engaged with the French in 1814, before the surrender 
of Toulouse to the army under the duke of Wellington. 
Close to the edge of the garden was a road leading to Mon- 
tauban ; and beyond the highway a plain of some extent, 
subdivided into helds intersected by trenches, which serve 
instead of hedges as boundaries of the land. This plain is 
terminated by lofty hills. 

To the right of the cottage was seen, lying in a hollow, 
the city, skirted by the royal canal, which was enlivened by 
moving barges and trees Iming the banks. Here the bustle 
of traffic was observable, the noise of the boatmen, and the 
laborious industry of the women, many of whom were 
busied in lading and unlading barges, while others were im- 
mersed knee-deep in the canal washing linen, and others 
again were in the fields, handling the hoe, or else guiding 
the oxen in carts or ploughs. 

To the left, the Pyrenean mountains raised their lofty 
peaks to the clouds, and added much to the beauty and inter- 
est of the surroundinof scene. 



CHAPTER II. 

The terms of hire being soon arranged with the abbe, 
with whom it was easy to treat — for he was a very courteous 
and accommodating man — we entered our cottage on the fol- 
lowing day, and when a little settled, paid our respects to 
our amiable host, who was our next-door neighbor. He 
received us with much kindness. His appearance was ven- 
erable, his age being about seventy years. He was in his 
ordinary dress, which was a long close garment of black 
stuff, buttoned from top to bottom. When he went abroad, 
he put on a three-cornered hat, and, in cold weather, a pur- 
ple silk surtout, lined with M'adding : l)nt in all seasons lie 



4 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

carried his crook-headed cane, which had supported him for 
several years in his daily walks to and from the cathedral, 
where he went every morning to assist at early mass. Be- 
sides his service at the cathedral, he commonly officiated on 
Sundays at some village a short distance from home, or else 
supplied the place of a sick or absent cure of some neighbor- 
ing church, whither he was corivej'ed in a covered cart, 
drawn by oxen ; or, if the church lay in the direction of the 
canal, he proceeded by one of the barges which ply regularly 
to and fro. His own dwelling consisted of a parlor, two 
bedchambers, and a kitchen, all on a small scale, and fur- 
nished in a simple manner. A framed inscription, which 
hung over the chimney-piece, attracted my attention on my 
first visit, and made me wish for an opportunity to take a 
copy of it. At the top of it was a rude sketch of the virgin 
Mary, and the infant Saviour in her arms ; and underneath, 
partly in Latin and partly in French, was written the 
following 

PRAYER TO THE HOLY VIRGIN. 

" We flee unto thee for protection, holy mother. 
Despise not our supplications in our necessities, but deliver 
us at all times from danger, glorious and blessed virgin. 
Amen. 

" Honor and glory be to the daughter of the Most High 1 
"On the 10th of April, 1814, the memorable day of 
the battle of Toulouse, the cannon-balls respected the image 
of the most holy virgin, which was in the house of Mon- 
sieur T , priest and prebendary of the cathedral of Tou- 
louse." 

What was meant by res^pecting the image was, that 
during the action, a cannon-ball passed through the apart- 
ment where the image then stood, without touching it. 

The abbe's household comprised himself, his vine-dresser, 
and a female servant, who waited on her master, nursed him 



I 



MARY OF TOULOUSE. 5 

in 'sickness, marketed, washed, cooked, cleaned tlie house, 
and worked in the garden ; in short, she managed all his 
domestic concerns. The name of this valuable servant was 
Mary. She \vas the daughter of the vine-dresser, and one of 
four living sisters, all called Mary, though one had the addi- 
tional name of Magdalene. She was nearly fifty years of 
age, of a lively disposition, shrewd understanding, contented 
mind, and always respectful to her superiors. Whether at 
work in the house or in the garden, Mary was accustomed to 
enliven the neighborhood with her cheerful song. She ap- 
peared to be one of the happiest of human beings : I say 
ajypeai'ed, for her contentedness had no solid foundation, 
because all her delight and wishes were centred in the 
world, and in the things of time and sense. Her mind seem- 
ed to be at ease, but it was only a false peace — a dangerous 
slumber ; and awful indeed would her condition have been, 
had death and judgment surprised her in that state of igno- 
rance of the only way of escape from the wrath to come. If 
ever she looked beyond the grave to a future state of exist- 
ence, she considered her lot to be secured among the blessed 
by the absolution of the priest, and the performance of cer- 
tain customary ceremonies ; or at least imagined, if she 
should be forced to undergo some punishment in purgatory 
for her purification, that the period might be shortened by 
the money of her friends, or the prayers of the church, and 
that she would, sooner or later, be set at hberty, and admitted 
into paradise. At this time she knew nothing of the wick- 
edness and deceitfulness of her own heart — nothing of the 
devices of the great destroyer of souls — nothing of the poison- 
ous nature of sin, or how it had brought death and every 
evil into the world. She, in short, was unacquainted with 
God's word ; and being ignorant of the Saviour of sinners, 
was far from him, and consequently far from enjoying true 
happiness, and that peace which passes all understanding. 
In this dangerous state she had toiled many years in the 
VOL. yn. 41 



Q MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

service of her master, who passed in the neighborhood for a 
guide and instructor in the way of salvation. Labor through 
the week, and diversions on the Sabbath-day, intermixed 
with stated attendances at church on Sundays and hoUdays, 
and a round of confessions and absolutions, communions and 
sins, were the sum of her life, and the substance of her 
religion. On Sunday morning she never failed, after the 
hour of market, to go to mass. This done, she believed she 
had observed the Sabbath, and saw no harm in dividing the 
remainder of the day between ordinary work, idle conversa- 
tion, and frivolous amusements. The evening of the Lord's 
day was constantly closed by a public dance, in which Mary 
was very conspicuous, both from the sprightliness of her 
manner, and the gayety of her attire. 



CHAPTEU m. 

The first opportunity I had of speaking seriously to Mary 
was on a Sabbath-day, about a month after my arrival. 
Something having been said about her master's privation of 
domestic comfort, for the want of a good wife, she expressed 
surprise that Protestant ministers should be allowed to marry, 
when Roman Catholic ones wexe forbidden to do so. I told 
her, if man prevented their marriage, God did not, and after- 
wards read to her out of the Roman Catholic New Testa- 
ment the passage which requires both bishops and deacons 
to have but one wife, to rule their own houses well, and to 
have their children in subjection. 1 Tim. 3 : 2-4, 8-1 L 
Some days after this the abbe called on me, and this subject, 
among others, became the topic of conversation. He then 
candidly owned, that the rule of his church forbidding priests 
to marry, is opposed to holy Scripture ; and declared that 
many ecclesiastics were formerly married, and that some, 
being threatened with imprisonment if they refused, took 
wives during the revolution in France. One of these mar- 



MARY OF TOULOrSE. 7 

ried priests, he said, M'as then Hviiig in Toulouse. The abbe 
allowed that St. Peter was a married man, Matt. 8 : 14, 15; 
1 Cor. 9:5; and the Scripture before quoted, 1 Tim. 3, 
having been again adverted to, I read to him the whole 
passage, which he thought decisive of the question. He 
expressed regret that any ecclesiastical law should exist 
against the marriage of the clergy, though he thought celib- 
acy meritorious. This gave me occasion to remark, that no 
man can have merit with God, all being sinners in his sight. 
Rom. 3 :23. 

At a subsequent meeting, I read to him 1 Tim. 4 : 1-5 ; 
but he made no rej:)ly, except that the keeping of Lent — as 
a fast, or abstinence from animal food — is 7Wt a divine in- 
stitution. 

Finding from the above-mentioned conversation with 
Mar}', that she was unable to read — though I was pleased to 
hear she was then learning her letters — I proposed to read 
to her a little out of the New Testament. She having as- 
sented, I opened at the third chapter of St. John's Revelation, 
and read from the eighteenth to the twenty-second verse, 
makuig a few observations. I also read the parable of the 
Pharisee and publican, recorded in St. Luke's gospel, 18 r 
10-14. She now expressed much regret that she had not 
learned to read at an earlier age. 

The next day my wife seeing her with her prayer-book, 
desired her to show it to me. I found the prayers were in 
Latin and French ; and my eye was soon arrested by one 
for the dead ; upon which I observed to Mary, that prayers 
are wholly unavailing for departed souls, because they are 
then fixed in a state of happiness or misery for ever. She 
seemed surprised at this, but soon afterwards observed, 
" Then the masses said for the dead must be for the purpose 
of raising money- for the church." These sums she rightly 
supposed would be better bestowed on the poor in the life- 
time of the giver. I afterwards learned that her master 



8 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

had left in his will four hundred francs for as many masses 
for his own soul. In order to prove to her that this was a 
fraud upon the credulous and ignorant, I read to her the 
evangelist's relation of the two malefactors who. were crucified 
with our blessed Saviour, Luke 23 : 39-43, and dwelt on our 
Lord's promise to the penitent and believing thief: "Verily 
I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." 

In the course of this conversation, I informed her that 
one of the chief distinctions between Romanists and Protes- 
tants was, that the former shut ifp the ivord of God from the 
'peoiile, and the latter offered it freely to all the world, accord- 
ing to the spirit of Christ's command to his disciples, which 
I then read to her from Mark 16 : 15, 16 : " Go ye into all 
the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature." This 
declaration was followed by a statement of the number of 
copies of the sacred volume distributed by the British and 
Foreign Bible Society during a period of sixteen years, 
amounting to upwards of two millions, in different languages, 
and among various nations. She replied, " That is certainly 
a good work — to enlighten the ignorant ; for how can I 
know any thing except I am taught?" — a remark which 
brought forcibly to my mind the words of the apostle : " How 
then shall they call on him in whom they have not believ- 
ed ? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have 
not heard?" Rom. 10 : 14. 

Before the close of this conversation, I adverted to the 
prayers appointed to be offered to the blessed Mary and other 
glorified saints, by acquainting her, that as they were only 
created beings, they ought not to be worshipped, and that 
the apostle Paul declares there is ''one Mediator between 
God and men, the man Christ Jesus," 1 Tim. 2:5; and with 
a view to convince her that worship is due to God alone, I 
read a few verses from Matthew's gospel, 4 : 1-10, pressing 
upon her the last clause of the tenth verse : " Thou shalt 
M^orship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." 



.MARV OF TOLLOUriE. f) 

* I also desired her to mark our Saviour's repeated appeal 
to tJie holy Scriptures as the source of all trutJt and the 
corrective of all error ; for when Jesus thrice said, " It is 
written," he surely must be understood to mean, that the 
sacred Scriptures were given for the express purpose of being 
read, that being the end of all writings. And that such U'ai> 
his meaning, is clear from many other passages of the holy 
volume. But some imagine that the word of God was 
never designed to be read indiscriminately by all the people. 
Let, however, two inspired apostles answer these objections. 
Peter, writing to the faithful, and speaking of the voice from 
heaven, Avhich declared of Christ, " This is my beloved Son," 
immediately adds, " We have also a more sure word of 
prophecy, whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto 
a hght that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and 
the day-star arise in your hearts." And again he says, 
"This second epistle, beloved, I now write unto you; in 
both which I stir up your pure minds by way of remem- 
brance : that ye may be mindful of the words which were 
spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the command- 
ment of us the apostles of the Lord and Saviour." 2 Peter, 
1:19; 3:1,2. Observe, that Peter is not writing to the? 
teachers of the people, but to the flock, when he affirms that 
tho inspired volume was intended to enlighten their minds 
and refresh their memories concerning those truths which 
belong to their everlasting peace : and if the word of God 
was used as a light and a remembrancer by the church in 
the time of the apostles, how much more is it needed in our 
day to erdightcn us, and remind us continually of those 
things we may have already heard and known ? 2 Peter, 
1 : 12, 13, 15. Attend now to the other witness. Paul, in 
his epistle to the church at Rome, states, that " whatsoever 
things were written aforetime, were written for our learniftg, 
that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might 
have hope." l?om. L') : 1. The same apostle on another 

VOL. XII. 11* 



10 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

occasion declares, that "All Scripture is given by inspiration 
of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correc- 
tion, for instruction in righteousness ;" and it is particularly 
worthy of attention, that he not only commended Timothy 
for knowing the holy Scriptures from his childhood, but like- 
wise honored the Bereans for searching the Scriptures daily. 
See 2 Tim. 3:16; Acts 17:11. Whatever errors and 
heresies have crept into the church of Christ, it has been 
justly observed, have originated from men of worldly wis- 
dom and corrupt minds, and almost always from the clergy ; 
but never from humble students of the divine writings, or 
sincere inquirers after truth. 

Among the numberless cases that might be mentioned of 
the double benefit which meek and teachable persons derive 
from hearing and reading the records of salvation, that of 
Mary is one which deserves to be noted. On one occasion 
she exclaimed, " I am as ignorant as an animal I" and on 
another she said, with much earnestness, that the Scriptures 
penetrated the marrow of her bones — reminding me of He- 
brews 4:12: " The word of God is quick, and powerful, and 
sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the 
dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and mar- 
row, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the 
heart." 



CHAPTER IV. 

In reference to 'public praijing and choMting in Latin, 
and particularly of unlearned persons addressing God in 
words which they do not understand, I once read to her part 
of the fourteenth chapter of 1st Corinthians, laying great 
stress on these verses, 15-17 : " I will pray with the spirit, 
and I will pray with the understanding also ; I will sing with 
the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also. Else, 
when thou shalt bless with the spirit, how shall he that occu- 



MARY OF TUILULSE. H 

pieth the room of the unlearned say Amen at thy giving of 
thanks, seeing he miderstandeth not what thou sayest ? For 
thou verily givest thanks well, but the other is not edified." 
At another time I read the second chapter of the Acts of the 
Apostles in connection with this subject, when she seemed 
to be convinced in her judgment that prayer in an unknown 
tongue is improper. 

Desirous to renew these conversations frequently with 
Mary, and perceiving in her an aptness for learning, I offered 
to devote an hour every afternoon to teach her to read, prom- 
ising at the same time to give her a New Testament as 
soon as she was able to read it. She gladly accepted my pro- 
posal, and came regularly every day from four to five o'clock. 
These interesting lessons commenced about the middle of 
November, and continued until February, when they were 
interrupted by my indisposition. Our method was, to precede 
them by a short prayer ; both kneeling, and invoking the aid 
and light of the Holy Spirit to guide teacher and learner 
into all truth. Part of the hour was spent in her reading, 
and part m my explanation of the subject, chiefly drawn from 
the gospel history, particularly from that according to St. 
John. These familiar lectures often called forth many seri- 
ous mquiries and pertinent observations on the part of Mary, 
who once asked me, with much solemnity, whether I thought 
it i^ossible she could be saved in that communion in which 
she had been brought up. My answer was, " With God 
nothing is impossible." At another time she observed, " If 
what you tell me be true, then tJte chief part of the i)i1iab- 
itants of this country are in great error ;" and she not unfre- 
quently expressed surprise that her master, a regular eccle- 
siastic, had never instructed her in those truths which she 
Avas now in the habit of hearing daily from a layman. This 
neglect did not, however, prevent her from imparting to him 
that knowledge which she was acquiring from day to day, by 
the teaching of the Spirit of truth ; and though the abbe was 



12 MARY UF TOIJLULSE. 

informed of the particulars of each day's lesson, he never took 
the least offence, but on the contrary repeatedly thanked me 
for teaching her, and not seldom heard her repeat her lesson 
before she came to me. Indeed, his behavior was always 
kind and friendly, and I sometimes recall with mingled 
delight and regret many winter evenings of social converse 
near our comfortable log-fire ; on which occasions he partook 
of bread, and fruits, and wine, after the custom of his coun- 
try, while we refreshed ourselves, after the English fashion, 
with tea and toast. 

Having in my possession a tract " On the Employment 
oithe Sabbath,'' I lent it to Mary one Sabbath, desiring her 
to ask Emily, a young woman in the next cottage, to read it 
to her. In the evening Mary told me that she and another 
female had heard it ; but, said she, if its contents were strictly 
observed, " I must never handle a broom on the Sabbath- 
day." I informed her that necessary work only ought to be 
done on the Lord's day. She thought it would be better if 
all the shops were closed on Sunday ; for she said that people 
might easily supply themselves on Saturday with what they 
wanted. I answered, " God's commands ought to be obey- 
ed, and we should not follow a multitude to do evil." " Cer- 
tainly not," she replied ; " for if a crowd of people choose to 
drown themselves, it is no reason why I should jump into the 
river." Soon afterwards she added, " For my part, I wish 
to repent, and be saved." I advised her to pray -for the Holy 
Spirit ; and as conversion had been mentioned, I said I would 
read to her something on that subject. I then explained the 
third chapter of St. John's gospel, where our Lord Jesus 
Christ, in a conversation with a certain ruler, declares, verses 
3, 5, 7, " Except a man be born again, he cannot see the 
kingdom of God ;" and, "Except a man be born of water 
and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. 
Marvel not," continues the Saviour, " that I said unto thee, 
Ye must be born again." 



MARY OF TOULOUSE. 13 

Mary asked if she had done right in staying at home that 
afternoon, for the purpose of learning to read, instead of 
taking her string of beads to church, where she said she 
would probably only gaze about, as others did, during the 
service. I told her, when she was able to read her Testa- 
ment, she would lay aside her beads ; for the word of God, 
once written in her heart, would sup])ly the place of the 
rosary. I further said, that if she remained at home with 
an intent to learn to read good books, she had done well. 
Her answer was, " I desire to read no other than good books ;" 
and then she spoke of Thomas a Kempis, as one. This work 
is known in France by the title of " The Imitation of Jesus 
Christ." I commended its general contents, though I could 
not approve of all ; and observed, that it was translated into 
many languages ; but, added I, those who would imitate 
Jesus Christ, must follow his steps. I then turned to the 
tenth chapter of John, and read it to her, laying particular 
stress on these verses, 1, 9, 11, 14, 27, 28 : "Verily, verily, 
I say unto you, he that entereth not by the door into the 
sheepfold, but climbeth up some other Avay, the same is a 
thief and a robber. I am the door : by me if any man enter 
in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pas- 
ture. I am the good Shepherd : the good Shepherd giveth 
his life for the sheep. I am the good Shepherd, and know 
my sheep, and am known of mine. My sheep hear my voice, 
and I know them, and they ibllow me : and I give unto 
them eternal life ; and they shall never perish, neither shall 
any man pluck them out of my hand." I pointed out Christ 
as the only door of admission into the heavenly fold, and 
stated, that all who attempt to enter it by their own fancied 
good works or deservings, or by any other way than by his 
merits, must fail, and incur condemnation ; that Jesus is also 
the good Shepherd, who sacrificed his life for his believing 
people, those once-strayed and lost sheep, in whose recovery 
he rejoices, watching over them with the tenderest care, and 



14 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

supplying all their wants ; that those who belong to his 
flock enjoy the comfortable assurance of his continual love 
and protection, diligently study his word, obey his commands, 
and copy his example. " These shall never perish," because 
he has engaged to guide and guard them through all the 
dangers and trials of life, and to bring them at last safely to 
the fold of everlasting rest. 

These lectures and explanations were not long continued 
before a marked change was very observable in Mary's be- 
havior. The Spirit of God had opened her heart, and 
wrought wonderfully in her. The Lord's day, so long abused 
by frequenting the market and the dance, and by idling away 
the intermediate hours in vain conversation and amusement, 
she now began to hold in esteem and reverence. The dance 
was given up, but it was some time before the Sunday mar- 
ket could be renounced ; at length, however, the new nature 
prevailed over the old — grace triumphed over sin — and she 
was enabled to relinquish also this profane custom. The 
conflict was probably hard, before her resolution was fixed 
on this point, because the comfort of her master, to whom 
she was much attached, was involved in the decision. It 
may not be generally known, that the provisions brought to 
the Sunday markets in France are the most abundant, and 
of the choicest kind. There she had never failed to procure 
the best supplies for his table : and it should not be omitted, 
that when Pavilion cottage was hired, it was agreed that 
Mary should market for us, but no purchases were ever made 
for us on the Lord's day ; and though she had repeatedly 
advised them, we had always declined them for ourselves, 
and condemned them in others. At length it pleased God 
to convince her that this was a violation of his Sabbath ; 
and one day she informed me that she had come to a deter- 
mination to let her master know that she could no longer 
market for him on Sundays, because God had commanded 
that day to be kept holy. This intimation, which was made 



MARV OF TOULOUSE. 15 

in a respectful manner, was received by hnii without anger 
or displeasure. The gardening was likewise discontinued, 
and all unnecessary work within and without doors was sus- 
pended till the following day. 

A remarkable feature in my scholar was, an uncommon 
readiness of mind to believe whatever could be iwovcd to 
her out of holy Scrij^tiire. She seemed to belong to that 
small class of sincere and unprejudiced persons, in whom the 
divine seed falling into good ground, prepared by the secret 
operations of the Spirit, promises the largest increase, even 
an hundred-fold. One day, Mary with tears in her eyes 
deeply lamented to me her sinfulness. I thereupon reminded 
her of these consolatory words of the Friend of penitent sin- 
ners : "Blessed are they that mourn ; for they shall be com- 
forted." Matt. 5:4. 

On another occasion, when our studies were over, and 
she was about to leave me, her heart being full of what she 
had just read and heard, she exclaimed with much earnest- 
ness, " I desire to give myself up to God." I think this 
occurred after my having read with her the parable of the 
creditor and debtor, Luke 7 : 36-50, which I stated to be a 
short but clear exposition of the good tidings of great joy 
which were to be published to all people. Such was the 
earnestness of her manner at this time, and so solemn did 
this dedication of herself to her God and Saviour appear to 
me, that she might well be supposed to have then felt the 
forcible language of our Christian poet : 

" Earth shall never be my care ; 
This my only wi.sh and prayer — 
Thine in life and death to be. 
No%v, and to eternity !" 

Mention has been already made of the string of beads 
called a rosary, which Mary was accustomed to carry to 
church. This was purchased of those missionaries who 



16 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

yearly traverse different parts of France, preaching and 
setting up crosses of wood or stone on the high-roads, and 
trafficking in crucifixes, images, and things of that kind. 
One of these teachers having announced from tjie pulpit 
that none of the people could be saved except they pur- 
chased rosaries at their booths, Mary was induced to try the 
efficacy of this charm ; but no sooner were her eyes opened 
to the imposition, than she renounced her vain confidence, 
and offered to give it to me. I accepted it, rejoicing with 
thanksgiving at this fresh triumph of truth over error, and 
of light over darkness. 

This, and similar superstitions, had been discussed on 
different occasions ; and on one of these the doctrine and 
practice of auricular corffosdon became the subject of 
more serious conversation. It is commonly supposed to be 
grounded on the apostle's words, " Confess your faults one 
to another." Jas, 5:16. I therefore endeavored to convince 
her that this could not mean that the people were to confess 
their sins to their priest, for then it would be equally the 
priest's duty to confess his sins to his people, because it is 
written, Confess one to another. But as the apostle like- 
wise adds immediately, and iiray one for another, it follows, 
that if the priest is not bound to confess to the people, nei- 
ther is it his duty to pray for them, or that of the congre- 
gation to pray for their pastor. The true sense, I thought, 
seemed to be this : that it is the duty of every Christian to 
acknowledge the faults and trespasses he commits against 
his neighbor ; to ask his forgiveness ; and each is required 
to pray for the other : but priests and people are alike bound 
to confess their sins, not to men, for all are sinners, but to 
God, who only can pardon and absolve transgressors. 



CHAPTER V. 
Mary not only felt a deep concern for her own soul, but 
soon showed her love for the souls of others ; and this ap- 



MARY OF TOULOUSE. 17 

peared in different ways. Her master's friends, some of 
whom were priests, came occasionally to see him ; and after 
Mary received the New Testament, she took every opportu- 
nity of producing the gift of the English traveller, extolling 
it at the same time as a good book. The abbe's elder 
brother was of the number of those visitors. He was a 
layman, between seventy and eighty years of age, on whom 
Mary's arguments had so good an effect, that he was per- 
suaded to purchase a copy of the New Testament in the 
town. I had an interview with him in the evening, and 
Mary exhibited the purchase with exultation. Some tracts 
were added to Mons. T 's parcel, which he gladly ac- 
cepted, and took home with him the following day. 

Another instance of Mary's desire to benefit others was, 
that observing I was in the habit of distributing tracts, she 
asked me to allow her to do the same ; or, to use her own 
words, to act the part of a missionary. Though I did not 
judge this advisable, I yet remember having intrusted to 
her care two tracts, one of which, "Serious Thoughts on 
Eternity," was for the particular use of her master, and 
given at his own request ; and the other was intended for 
one of her acquaintances in the city. 

A further evidence of her love and solicitude for the best, 
the eternal interests of others, is, that just before Christmas, 
when her youngest sister, who was married and settled at 
Castelnaudry, came to spend a day with Mary, she brought 
her to me, and entreated me to speak to her on the subject 
of religion. She had previously hinted to me that her 
sister's husband had a great desire to learn to read, profiting 
by every leisure moment ; and that he had even been seen 
with a book in his hand while in the field ; but that this 
thirst for knowledge displeased his wife much, and she made 
his home very disagreeable, which sometimes obliged him to 
retire for quiet into the stable. In the same house with 
Mary's relatives lived three brothers, who were all as desir- 

VOT.. XII. 42 



18 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

ous as himself to acquire the art of reading. After speaking 
seriously to her sister about her opposition to her husband, 
and also concerning her own state, I read to her some por- 
tions of the word of God, to which she listened with deep 
attention ; and before she left me, her opinion seemed so 
much changed, that she gladly received four Testaments and 
some tracts for her husband and his fellow-lodgers, and 
another set of books for the schoolmaster of the place where 
she resided ; and I was much gratified by her assurance, that 
she would never again molest her husband, but rather en- 
courage his reading. 

Mary and her sister attended our family prayers that 
evening, when another portion was read out of the New 
Testament ; and early the next morning the latter returned 
home in the barge, and some days afterwards sent me word 
that all the books were thankfully welcomed. 

I could never discover that any adult school existed in 
France. I exceedingly lamented this great deficiency, and 
that some part of the misspent and profaned Sabbaths was 
not applied to teach the ignorant and unlettered poor to read 
the words of eternal life. 



CHAPTER YI. 

A diversity of opinion was now apparent in Toulouse 
and its neighborhood concerning the holy Scriptures, both 
priests and people being divided as to its being good or evil 
for all persons to read the sacred volume. Besides the ad- 
joining cottage, where Emily resided with her parents, there 
were two others very near the abbe's. One belonged to 
Mons. S., formerly a commissary of the French army in 
Spain, who lived with his wife in the enjoyment of a quiet 
retreat, and a suflicient income. The other was tenanted 
by a peasant, whose wife Cecile supplied us with milk. 
These last had a daughter about thirteen, named Louise, to 



iMARY OF TOULOUSE. 19 

whom I gave a Testament as a new-year's gift, and wrote 
under her name, " From a child thou hast known the holy- 
Scriptures, v/hich are able to make thee wise unto salvation 
through faith which is in Christ Jesus." 2 Tim. 3 : 15. 
This girl, who went to a school kept by the new order of 
nuns, called Sisters of CJiarity, took great delight in read- 
ing the Scriptures to her mother, who had never been taught 
to read. One day when Cecile, in conversation with a 
female acquaintance, was commending what she had heard 
her daughter read out of the New Testament, she was 
greatly surprised to hear from the woman that it was a bad 
book ; and because it came, as she said, from a heretic, she 
told her she was committing a great sin in retaining it. 
Cecile, alarmed and terrified, desired her daughter to take 
it to the grand-vicar for his opinion concerning it. The 
girl went and delivered it into his hands. As soon as the 
grand-vicar perceived it was the New Testament, he shut 
the book and calmly put it into his pocket, telling the girl 
that it was a book formerly prohibited. Louise went away 
with a sorrowful face, lamenting the loss of her pretty book. 
After waiting several days without hearing more of it, she 
informed one of the nuns of my present, and how the grand- 
vicar had kept it, when she M^ent to ask his opinion of it. 
The nun's curiosity being excited to see the book, she desired 
Louise to request the grand-vicar to send it to her. Louise 
set off immediately, and quickly returned with it; and, after 
examination, the nuns pronounced it to be a good book, in 
spite of former prohibitions. It was then restored to the 
child, who was overjoyed at again having the lost treasure 
in her possession. 

Another Testament was presented to the commissary's 
wife, who kindly received it, though she feared to use it 
before she had obtained the a})proval of an ecclesiastic. She 
therefore desired her nephew, who was a student at the 
seminary, to show it to the director, who was a priest ; but 



20 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

he instantly condemned it as a book luhich deserved to he 

burned. Madame S being very unwilling to carry 

the sentence into execution, thought it right to take first 
another opinion. She accordingly applied to her own con- 
fessor, who declared it to be a ^yroi^er book for her. 

Mary had likewise told her confessor that she had received 
a similar gift from me ; upon which she was cautioned not 
to read too much in it, lest it should divert her mind from 
the duties of her religion. 

This variety of sentiment, I think, did much in estab- 
lishing the fame of the New Testament as a good book, not 
only in the two adjacent cottages, but also in the minds of 
Mary and Emily, who likewise received one from me. All 
the Testaments distributed were of the same version — De 
Sacy's — the one generally approved by those French Roman- 
ists who know something of the value of the oracles of God. 

Mary continued her daily study of the Scriptures till 
about the middle of February, three months from its com- 
mencement. An interruption occurred at this period, in 
consequence of a severe illness, which prevented me for some 
weeks from attending to any business. Mary showed during 
that season of trial a most affectionate concern for her in- 
structor, by her eager activity to contribute by every means 
in her power to my relief and comfort. She was always 
ready to run to the physician or chemist, to the shops or the 
market, in order to procure what was wanting. At one 
time she seemed to think my recovery hopeless, saying, 
"He will certainly die, and go to heaven." But the Lord 
and Giver of life — blessed be his holy name — willed it other- 
wise. He spared and raised me up to renewed health and 
vigor. When restored to strength, I offered her a pecuniary 
recompense for all her kindness during my sickness, but she 
was unwilling to take it ; and I was obliged to insist on her 
receiving some remuneration besides my grateful acknow- 
ledgments, before she would consent. 



MAUV UF TOULOUSE. 21 

The study of the Scriptures Avas now resumed and con- 
tinued till the period of our departure, which was fast ap- 
proaching. By the end of February the winter had nearly 
disappeared, with scarcely a flake of snow left except on the 
neighboring mountains, which were well clad with it. A 
hoarfrost covered the ground by night ; but this was quickly 
dissipated by the returning sun, which now beamed forth 
with great force, giving new life to the vegetable creation. 
Though the winters in that region are by no means severe, 
it is nevertheless visited by many a keen blast from the 
Atlantic ocean and the Pyrenees, and in 1619 the river 
Garonne was passable on the ice. The spring sets in about 
three weeks sooner than in England. In February the al- 
mond-tree abounded in blossoms, and in March a species of 
the pear-tree was in full bloom. At this early season the 
vine-dressers were busy in pruning the vines, which grow 
there like gooseberry-bushes, requiring neither props nor 
runners. The sprigs of the vine are then lopped oft' near 
the stem, leaving it about two feet above ground. Many dfy 
sticks are thus gathered for firing from the superfluous with- 
ered branches, while the pruned ones become more vigorous 
and productive: the former aptly representing to the Chris- 
tian spectator the end of all dead, fruitless, hypocritical pro- 
fessors in Christ's church ; and the latter exhibiting the true 
and living disciples, who, though pruned by sharp trials, 
have still an abiding union with Christ, and deriving from 
him all sap and strength, yield more abundant fruits of the 
Spirit, to the praise and glory of God. John \3 : 1-8. 

On the 4th of April, we took our departure IVom Tou- 
louse. It was a day of gloom and sorrow to us, as well as 
to some whom we were leaving behind. Mary was so greatly 
aflected that she was incapable of rendering us any assist- 
ance. She stood like a statue on the threshold of the door, 
and with tears in her eyes and a faltering voice, entreated 
me to pray lor her. When all the neighbors wished us a 
VOL. XII. 4'2* 



22 MARY OF TOULOUt^E. 

prosperous journey, she remained motionless and speechless, 
absorbed in pensiveness and grief. At length the moment 
of separation arrived. We commended her to God, and the 
word of his grace, which was able to build her up, and give 
her an ftiheritance among them who are sanctified by faith 
in Christ Jesus, Acts 20 : 32 ; and afterwards we gave her, 
and all around us, the parting farewell. As the carriage 
descended towards the gate of St. Etienne, we cast a long, 
lingering look at Pavilion cottage, admiring the wonderful 
grace of God, and the wisdom of his providence, in fixing 
our habitation in that particular spot. 

The kind abbe accompanied us to the end of the first 
stage, but long before we reached it, the tear was visible in 
his eye : and when the moment of our separation from him 
arrived, feeling perhaps that we might never meet again 
till the general assembly before the judgment-seat of Christ, 
he became much agitated ; his heart was full, and his eyes 
filled with tears. We took an affectionate leave of one 
another, and then pursued our opposite courses ; we towards 
Villefranche, and he towards Toulouse. Our friend the 
abbe had taken the precaution to apprize his brother of the 
exact time when we should reach his house, which lay in 
our direct route ; and when we alighted at his door, he gave 
us a very hospitable reception, and comfortable refreshment. 



CHAPTER YII. 

After passing an hour and a half with Mons. T , 

we prosecuted our journey towards Nice, visiting on the 
way Montpellier, and other populous cities, towns, and vil- 
lages in the south. The country we traversed abounded 
in olive-trees, which presented a desolate appearance ; the 
greater part having been smitten by the frost the preceding 
year. Those that survived the severe cold were now in 
blossom. This tree is an evergreen, and grows to a good 
height ; its leaf resembles that of the willow, and its trunk 



MARY OF TOL'LUl HE. 23 

assumes every fantastic form. On one occasion we remarked 
the olive-tree, tlie vine, and the corn all growing together in 
one field ; thus comhining in one view, three of the choicest 
products of the earth which the bounteous Giver of all 
good dispenses to ungrateful man. At Nice, a town lying 
on the Mediterranean, and on the frontier of Italy, I re- 
ceived a letter from the abbe, in reply to one sent to him 
on my journey, and it contained this pleasing intelligence : 
" My own health, Mary's, and her father's is very good. 
I did not forget to inform Mary of your kindness in seeing 
her brother-in-law, and putting into his hands ' the word 
of God,' for which she requests me to express her grateful 
acknowledgment." 

After spending several Aveeks in Nice, we crossed in the 
middle of June the high Alps by a dangerous road, the Col 
di Tende, part of which was covered with snow. Thence 
we descended into the valleys of Piedmont, where God has 
preserved, from the first planting of Christianity in Italy, a 
church uncorrupted in doctrine by any of those errors and 
superstitions which degi-ade the neighboring region. The 
lamp of truth still shines amidst the surrounding darkness, 
and in the history of that community has been literally ful- 
filled the Redeemer's promise to his church, " The gates of 
hell shall not prevail against it." From Piedmont we jour- 
neyed through many famed cities, which lie on the great 
road leading to Home. Crossing the Apennine mountains 
beyond Bologna, the eye of the traveller is delighted with 
a view of several hamlets and cottages, which serve to be- 
guile the weariness of the passage over that desert. Night 
brought us to tlie handsome city of Florence, whence wo 
proceeded to the ancient capital of the world ; and there, 
while surveying the ruins of palaces and theatres, and 
mourning over the surrounding spiritual desolation, we un- 
expectedly received the melancholy intelligence of the re- 
moval of poor Mary by death. No previous information of 



24 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

her illness had reached us, nor any further accounts of her 
since the abbe's letter in May ; we were, therefore, the 
more shocked by the unexpected account of her death, an 
event afterwards confirmed by a second letter from the abbe, 
giving some particulars. The substance is as follows. 

" Your letter, my dear sir, drew from me tears of joy and 
sorrow : joy, in hearing that you and your family enjoyed 
good health ; and sorrow, in the revival of my grief for my 
irreparable loss. I am quite sure that you participate in 
my sorrow on this mournful occasion. Mary was deeply 
regretted by all who knew her. Her rare virtues and her 
good temper made her beloved by all. You desire to know 
some particulars of her illness, and the good disposition she 
manifested before her decease ; but in order to satisfy your 
inquiries, I must enter into a very distressing detail. 

" The day of your departure was a day of mourning 
both to myself and Mary. From that fatal hour she lost 
her natural gayety, and found comfort in nothing but in the 
the study of the precious book — le livre d'or — which you 
had given her, for she never forgot the good sentiments you 
had impressed on her mind. 

" Five days after you left us, your apartments were taken 
by three young men, one of whom was ill, suffering from 
disease of the lungs. Doctor R- Avas called in, and ap- 
plied a large blister to his chest. Mary nursed him with 
the tenderness of a mother. This distressing and disagree- 
able circumstance, added to the business of the house, and 
the necessary errands, made her neglectful of her own health, 
which was then in a critical state, requiring much rest and 
care. On the 2d of June, I felt so indisposed after my re- 
turn from town at seven o'clock in the morning, that it was 
thought I had taken a serious illness. Mary was greatly 
distressed and alarmed about me, and was unfortunately 
incapable of rendering me any assistance. Medical aid was 
obtained ; several draughts were ordered for me, as well as 



MARY OF TOULOUSE. 25 

the application of leeches. My ilhiess lasted six weeks, 
during which period Mary, in spite of her own indisposition, 
endeavored to do all she could for me, but would take no 
medicine herself until I was restored. Meanwhile her ill- 
ness daily increased, and she became very weak. The doc- 
tor's prescriptions were useless, for she took medicine only 
once or twice, and then omitted it, depending on the strength 
of her constitution. A week before she died, she took what- 
ever was ordered for her ; but medical skill was then of no 
avail. A consultation took place. On the 19th of August, 
at two in the morning, she became so feeble that she fainted 
for some time. I was instantly called, and hastened to her, 
but found her dying. Her mind was quite clear, as it was 
throughout her illness. I seized this favorable moment to 
give her all the spiritual consolation in my power, and had 
the satisfaction of seeing her resigned to death — to sleep in 
the arms of her Beloved, who has taken her to his bosom. 
I doubt not she is now happy. May the Lord grant us all 
the same favor. She surrendered her spirit to God in the 
best religious frame, in the presence of many, who were 
dissolved in tears. Her poor father will remain with me for 
the comfort of each other in our irreparable loss. 

" I shall carefully keep the precious present you made to 
Maiy, and thence I shall draw all my consolation ; and will 
never cease in my prayers to God to implore the preserva- 
tion of your own life and that of your connections. My 
elder brother is much obliged by your remembrance of him ; 
also M. and Madame S. 

" On the 19th of October I again let the cottage, but my 
tenants quitted it in six weeks ; so that I am now witliout 
society, absorbed in recollections and sorrow, wliicli over- 
whelm me. 

" I have the honor to be, my dear sir, 

" Your most afTectionate servant, 

"T ." 



26 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

Mary's life and death are full of salutary instruction. 
The reader of this narrative will remember how very differ- 
ent her character and dispositions were before and after her 
conversion to God. Before she had received a new heart 
and a right spirit, she was debased by foolish superstitions 
and fatal ignorance of the only way of salvation, pursuing 
a course of vanity and sin ; yet all the while under the 
strange delusion that she was a Christian, because born and 
baptized in the church of her fathers. But no sooner were 
her eyes opened to see her guilt and danger — no sooner was 
she brought by divine mercy to weep over her sins, and turn 
from the error of her ways to that Redeemer who is not less 
willing than mighty to save all who come unto God by him, 
than we behold her reverencing that sacred day which she 
had so long slighted and abused — we see her diligently em- 
ployed from day to day, and sometimes for hours together, in 
the study of God's holy will and commandments, and testify- 
ing her love to her Saviour by various acts of kindness and 
affection, more particularly by zeal and solicitude for the 
eternal welfare of her fellow- creatures ; evidencing, in short, 
throughout her latter days, both in life and conversation, 
that she was a new creature, "delivered from the power of 
darkness, and translated into. the kingdom of God's dear 
Son." Who that remembers her earnest desire to giA^e up 
herself to God and be saved, can doubt her having chosen, 
with her namesake of old, that good part which shall never 
be taken from her ? Luke 10 : 42. Or who can hesitate to 
believe that she is now numbered with those myriads of 
angelic spirits who are incessantly chanting the new song 
of the ledeemed : " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to 
receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honor, and glory, and blessing." " Salvation to our God 
which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb," Uev. 
5:12; 7 : 10. 

Mary's speedy removal frorn this transitory state of exist- 



MARY OF TOULOUSE. 27 

ence is a Avaniing voice to all who have yet to pass into the 
eternal world. It is a voice from her tomb admonishing 
high and low, rich and poor, young and aged, " Prepare to 
meet thy God." 

Mary was of a good constitution of body, accustomed to 
the hardships of labor and the vicissitudes of weather, and 
was besides in excellent health not long before she was over- 
taken by that illness which laid her cold corpse in the grave. 
But every day's experience only serves to confirm the ob- 
servation, that whenever God is pleased to send his mes- 
senger to cut down the full-ripe corn, or the fruitless tree — 
one for the granary, and the other for burning — neither 
health, nor youth, nor rank, nor riches can stay his hand. 
" By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin ; 
and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." 
Reader, beware lest death surprise you in your sins. Repent 
and believe the gospel, before it be too late to flee from the 
wrath to come. Pray fervently that, through the grace of 
the Lord Jesus and the aid of the Holy Spirit, you may bS 
turned from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan 
unto God ; otherwise you will perish in your sins, and be 
cast into the lake of unquenchable fire, where there is weep- 
ing, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth for ever and ever. 



CHAPTER Vni. 

Frequent allusion has been made to the kind and amia- 
ble conduct of our host ; but truth compels me to declare, 
that though an acknowledged minister of Christ, he was as 
lamentably ignorant of the gospel as most of his neighbors. 
" If the blind lead the blind, both," as says our Saviour, 
"shall fall into the ditch." In proof of the abbe's igno- 
rance of true religion, we need only refer to the superstitious 
inscription suspended in his apartment, liis be<pie.st for 
masses to extricate his own soul IVoni an imaginary place 



28 MARY OF TOULOUSE. 

called purgatory, and his neglect of the spiritual and eter 
nal welfare of his household and neighbors. Whether it 
has since pleased the God of all grace to show him his dan- 
ger and lead him to Christ, the only refuge for lost sinners, 
I know not ; but I love to cherish the hope, that by the 
teaching of the Holy Spirit our conversations may have been 
blessed to the conversion of his soul, and that he may indeed 
have drawn all his consolation from that fountain of truth 
where Mary imbibed her saving knowledge ; which, while 
it proved the comfort of her latter days, was doubtless also 
her support when passing through the valley of the shadow 
of death. 

Since the abbe's second letter, and after different inqui- 
ries, I at length received a communication from his niece, 
five years later, informing me of his passage from time into 
eternity. No particulars were given of his dying sentiments, 
or of the date of his departure. 

Thus have both master and servant been summoned to 
that final account which all must render at the tribunal of 
Christ. Their lot is cast, either for endless happiness or 
endless misery ; and in a few years, or months, or days, the 
hand that now writes may be motionless, and the eye that 
now reads may be sightless. See, reader,' that you noiv lay 
this instruction to heart. Seek to profit by it ; and, above 
all, seek grace from God to study, believe, and obey the 
blessed volume of inspiration — God's holy book. Read it 
for yourself, or hear it read by another ; examine it well, 
and pray over it fervently ; and neglect not to impart to all 
within your reach the words of eternal life. Hide not from 
others this key of knowledge ; bury not this inestimable 
talent ; lest you not only shut out tliem from the kingdom 
of heaven, but yourself also, and bring on your own head a 
greater condemnation. 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX 



THE TITLES OF THE TRACTS 



THE TWELVE VOLUMES. 



Abigail Hutchinson 78 

Act of Faith 356 

Adams, Anna Mary 410 

Address of Executive Committee 1 

Address to Mothers 175 

Advantages of Prayer .... 234 
Advice to a Married Couple . • 67 

Advice to a Sailor 345 

Advice to Young Converts . . . 196 

Afflicted, To the 47 

Afflicted, Comfort for .... 266 
Afflictions, Sanctified .... 99 

African, Forgiving 92 

African Servant 53 

Aged, Gift for (large type)* . . . 427 

Aged, to the 48 

Aged Penitent 301 

Aged Sailor 473 

Alarm to the Careless 283 

All for the Best 11 

All in the Ark 387 

All-Sufficiency of Christ . . . 421 

Almost Christian 281 

Altar, Domestic 230 

Am I a Christian ? 106 

Am I Self-deceived ? , . . . 86 

Amelia Gale 217 

Amiable Louisa 275 

Amiable Youth faUing short of 

Heaven 65 

Amusements. Fashionable ... 73 
Anecdotes of Usefulness of Tracts 104 

Ann Eliza Williams 359 

Anna Mary Adams 410 

Anxious Servant 343 

Apostate, The 318 

Appeal for Christian Sabbath . . .')02 
Appeal to the Patriot .... 2.)3 

Appeal to Youth 2.33 

Apprentices, Two 129 

Archer, Joseph 246 

Ardent Spirits. See Temperance. 
Are you a Sabbath-school Teach- 
er? 396 

Are you Ready 1 292 

Argument, Unanswerable . . . 440 
Areuments, One Hundred, for the 
Divinity of Christ 214 

VOL. XII. 



3 Ark, All in the . . . . 

10 Aroused, The Slumberer 

11 Atonement, Christian . . 
1 ' Atoning Blood .... 



Aurora Borealis , 



Bad Books, Beware of ... . 
Baldwin, David, or the Miller's Son 
Bargain, The ruinous .... 

2 { Barnes on the Traffic in Ardent 

8 Spirits 

3 I Barren Fig-tree 

3 Barstow, Samuel 

2 Batenian, Dr., Memoir of . . . 

1 ; Bayssiere, Peter 

2 [ Beginnings of Evil 

9 Believer. True, Bountiful . . . 
Believers, Clirist precious to . . . 
Believers, Dying Testimony of . 
Believest thou 1 ...... . 

Believing, The Sinner .... 

Benevolence of God 

Benevolent Husbandry .... 

Bereaved, Comfort for 

Bethel, or Flag unfurled . . . 

Beware of Bad Books 

Bible above all Price 

Bible an inspired Book . . . . 
Bible Argument for Temperance . 

Bible, best of Books 

Bible in Schools 

Bible of Divine Origin 

Bible, History of a 

Bible, \Vord'for 

Bible and Sinner, Dialogue be- 
tween 

Bible, Whv should I study ? . . 
Bible the Word of God ." . . . 

Blacksmith's Wife 

Blaspiiemer, Bold 

Blaspheming Sailor Reclaimed . 

I Blind Betsey 

Blind Ellen 

10 1 Blind Slave in tlie Mines . . . . 

H I Boh the Cabin-boy 

11 I Bradbury, Samuel F 

I Brand, "the Rescued 

6 1 Brazen Serpent 

43 



No. 


l^ol. 


387 


10 


442 


U 


45 


2 


361 


10 


498 


12 


493 


12 


282 


8 


472 


U 


305 


9 


148 


5 


112 


4 


154 


5 


2.»1 


7 


366 


10 


101 


3 


513 


12 


286 


8 


46,5 


11 


453 


11 


.30 


1 


434 


11 


372 


10 


164 


5 



493 12 

71 2 

323 9 

276 8 

220 6 

231 7 

192 8 

77 3 

216 6 



399 10 
447 11 



4.57 11 

4.-)6 11 

290 8 

.-W 2 

266 8 

56 2 

126 4 

314 9 

471 II 

161 5 



511 12 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



Friend or Enemy of Christ . . . 

Friend, Sailor's 

Friend, Sinner's 

Friend, Your Best 

Friendly Conversation 

Friendly Hints to the Young . . 

Friendly Suggestions to an Emi- 
grant 

Friendly Visit to tlie House of 
Mourning 

Fulfilment, Striking, of Prophecy . 

Funeral, Village 

Future Punishment Endless . . . 

Future Punishment, orUniversalist 
Refuted 

Future Repentance, Hope of . . 

Gain is Loss 

Gale, Amelia 

Gambling, Consequences of . . . 
Gamester, Word with .... 
Gardiner, Colonel, Life of . . . 

General's Widow 

George Lovell 

George Taylor 

German Cripple 

Gift for the Aged 

Gift for Mourners ...... 

Give me thy Heart 

God a Refuge 

God, Benevolence of 

God, Do you love? 

God, Prepare to meet thy . . . 

Godman, Dr. John D 

Gold Ring, My Wife's .... 

Gospel for the Poor 

Gospel Ministry entitled to Support 

Gospel, Substance of 

Grace, Divine, Illustrated . . . 

Grace, Do 1 grow in ? 

Grace, Growth in 

Grace, Progress of 

Great Alternative 

Great Day, The 

Great Effects from Little Causes . 
Great Effects and Feeble Means . 
Great Question Answered . . . 
Greatest Sinners, Pardon for . . 

Grieved, The Spirit 

Growth in Grace 

Guardian, Obligations of a. . . 
Guide to Prayer, Child's . . . , 
Gurney on Redemption .... 



Happiness, Domestic . . . 

Happy Negro 

Happy Waterman .... 
Happy, Would you be? 
Harm, Do Thyself no . . . 
Harriet Patterson .... 

Harvest Past 

Harvest Perishing .... 
Have Me Excused . . ' . 

Haymow, The 

Hearing the Word of God . 
Heart, Give me thy . . . 
Heart, On Purifying the . . 



103 3 

96 3 

349 9 

414 11 

118 4 

201 6 



3 

310 
36 
134 

350 
241 

337 
217 
200 



9 

7 

9 
6 
6 

428 11 
4 
8 



127 
29 
33 



135 
287 

264 8 

508 12 

455 11 

427 11 

59 2 
44 2 
23 1 
30 1 

417 11 

347 9 

370 10 

423 11 

506 12 

147 5 

517 12 

488 12 

232 7 

60 2 
132 4 
303 9 
122 4 

74 3 

209 6 

93 3 

514 12 

380 10 

60 2 

4 

1 

1 



444 11 

7 1 

105 3 

449 11 

400 10 

386 10 

302 9 

307 9 

382 10 

499 12 

145 5 

44 2 

61 2 



No. Vol. 

Heart, Keeping the 24 1 

Heart Opened 450 11 

Heaven, How Sin appears in . . 40 2 

Heaven Lost 120 4 

Heaven, Voice from 243 7 

Heaven, Way to 466 11 

HeU, Eternal Misery of .... 277 8 

Help, Scripture 204 6 

Helps to Self-Examination ... 146 5 

Hiding-place 482 12 

Hints to Visitors and Travellers . 341 9 

Historv of a Bible 77 3 

History of Amelia Gale .... 217 6 

History of Corporal Murray . . . 319 9 

History of Jonathan Brown . . 210 7 

History of Old Shusco 97 3 

Hist^jry of Thomas Brown . . . 163 6 

History of Thomas Mann ... 235 7 

Hogg, Thomas, Memoir of ... 139 4 
Holiness, Without, no Man shall 

see the Lord 4 1 

Holy Ghost resisted. The. . . .445 11 
Holy Spirit, Work of . .... 21 

Honest Waterman 235 7 

Honestv the best Policy .... 105 3 

Hope, Disappointed 238 7 

Hope, False 378 10 

Hope of Future Repentance . . 241 7 

Hope of the Righteous .... 520 12 

Hopes for Eternity 1.58 5 

Horrors of Heathenism .... 291 8 

Horrors of Remorse 495 12 

Hours, Eventful Twelve ... 395 10 

House, Church in the 519 12 

How Sin appears in Heaven . . 40 2 
How to make the most of Life . 364 10 
How to spend the Lord's Day . 415 11 
Hume and Finley, Death of, com- 
pared 190 6 

Husbandry, Benevolent .... 434 11 

Hutchinson, Abigail 78 3 

" Hypocrite, I am no" . . . .391 10 

" I am an Infidel" 267 8 

" I am no Hypocrite" 391 10 

" If any Man thirst, let him come 

unto me and drink" 403 10 

I have not Time 404 10 

Impenitent, Why yet ! .... 483 12 

Importance of Consideration . . 202 6 

Importance of Salvation .... 215 6 

Important Discovery 151 5 

Important Questions 117 4 

I must Pray in Secret .... 408 10 

Incident, Strange 205 6 

Indecision in Religion .... 263 8 

Indian Woman, The 128 4 

Infidel, Conversation with ... 64 2 

Infidel Objections 330 9 

Infidel Reclaimed 351 10 

Infidel Restored . , 484 12 

Infidel's Confession 51)1 12 

Infidel's Creed 376 10 

Influence, Female 226 7 

Inhabitants ofNew Settlements, To 182 5 

Inquiring-Meeting, The. . . . 420 11 

Inquiry, Serious 212 6 



ALPIIABETK AI, l.NDKX. 



No. 

Inquisition at Madrid 4t)0 

Island Planter 365 

It is the last Time 338 

" I've no Thought of Dying so" . 323 
I will Give Liberally 316 

James Covey 109 

Jamie. See Temperance. 

John De Long .306 

John Robins the Sailor 219 

Jonathan Brown the Bargeman . 210 

Joseph Archer 216 

Joseph. Poor 68 

Joy in Heaven over the Penitent. 178 

Joy in Sorrow 372 

Judgment, Conviction at the . . 54 

Judgment, Day of 32 

Justification by Faith .... 393 

Keepin? the Heart 24 

Kelly, VViiham, Life of . ... 75 
Kittredge, J., on Ardent Spirits . 221 
Knocking at the Door .... 31 
Known, Will it ever be? . . . .418 

Lady in Fashionable Life . . . 289 

Laud Tacks Aboard 345 

Last Days of Rev. Dr. Payson . . 324 
Last Hours of Francis Newport . 142 
Lavater and Poor ^Vidow . . . 423 
Law, Where did he get that? . . 321 
Lawsuit, to a Person engaged in a 168 

Lee, Edward 379 

Legacy, The Missionary . . . 476 
Leslie's Method with the Deists . 123 

Let me alone 236 

Liberal, Scripture promises to . . 433 
Liberality, Christian, Explained 

and Enforced 194 

Life Eternal, or Death .... 424 

Life fsom the Dead 257 

Life, How to make the most of . 364 

Life of Bunyan 218 

Life of Colonel J. Gardiner . . 1!J5 

Lifeof William Kelly 75 

Life-Preserver 431 

Little Causes, Great Effects from . 74 
Little Henry and his Bearer . . 107 

Live for the World 367 

Logic of the Life 419 

Lord's Day ........ 8 

Lord's Dav, How to spend the . 415 

Lord's Prayer 121 

Lord's Supper 84 

Lord's Supper, Shall I come to? . 269 

Loss, The Gain is 337 

Lost Convictions ..'..... 467 
Lost Mechanic Restored . • . 398 

Lost, Misery of the 51 

Lost Son 509 

Lost Soul . 273 

Louisa, The Amiable .... 275 
Ixjve of Christ, Constraining . .224 

Lovell, Cieorge 264 

Lovest thou Me ? 333 

Lydia Sturtevanf, or the Fatal 

Resolution 2^4 

VOL. XII. 



Vol. • 
11 Milvaine on Temperance . . . 

10 I .Mack. Col. David 

91 Mann. Thomas, History of. . . 

" Man Overboard 

Marks of Religious Declension . 
Married Couple, Advice to . . . 

Mary of Toulouse 

Means of a Revival 

Mechanic. Lost. Restored , . . 
6 Meeting, Inquiring 

6 I IMcmbers, Clirist in his ... . 

7 Memoir of Anna Mary Adams 

2 Memoir of Ih. Bateman .... 

5 Memoir of S. F. Bradbury . . . 
10 Memoir of William Churchman . 

2 Memoir of Dr. J. D. Godman . . 
1 ^lemoir of Thomas Hogg . . . 

10 Memoir of Harriet Newell . . . 
Messiah's Ttirone 

1 Miller's Son, or David Baldwin 

3 Mines, Blind Slave in ... . 

6 Ministers, Prayer for 

1 Ministry, What is a Call to? . . 

11 Ministry, Call and Qualifications 

for 

8 Ministry, Gospel, entitled to Sup- 

9 port 

9 Missing Disciple 

5 Missionary Legacy 

11 Missionary's Father 

9 Mistakes "of ParenU 

5 Mischiefs of Slander 

10 Misery of the Lost 

12 INloral Dignity of the Missionary 

4 I Enterprise 

7 Moral Man Tried 

11 1 Morality, Scriptural 

t Mother of St. Augustine . . . 

10 Mother, Praying 

11 Mother to her only Son . . . . 

8 : Mother's Last Prayer 

lOJMothers, A W^ord'to 

6 Mothers, Address to 

4 Motives to Early Piety .... 
3|iMountain Miller 

11 Mountains, Village in .... 

3, Mourners, A (iift for 

4 Mourning, Friendly Visit to House 

10 I of 

11 {My Father's Prayer 

1 I "Sly Spirit shall not always Strive" 

11 i Murderers of Fathers and Mothers 

4 Murray, Corporal 

3 Murray. Daniel 

8 My W'ife's Gold Ring .... 

9 

11 I Napoleon's Argument for the Di 
10} vinity of Christ ...... 

2; Nature and Season of Repentance 
12 1 Navy Surgeon 

8 1 Necessity of Repentance .... 

8 j N.-eiiful, t)ne Thing 

7[ Ne:.'lect<'r of Religion, To . . . 

8 Nrglectm? the Saviour .... 

9 Nejro. Happy 

; N.w Birth .' 

8 .Vewell, Unmet, Memoir of. . . 

43* 



No. Vol. 

244 7 

487 12 

235 7 

458 11 

353 10 

67 2 

522 12 

278 8 

398 10 

420 11 

504 12 

410 11 

l.Vl 5 

471 11 

151) 5 

370 10 

139 4 

169 5 

516 12 

282 8 

126 4 

469 11 

285 8 



317 9 

147 5 

507 12 

476 12 

461 11 

296 8 

309 9 

51 2 

228 .7 

19 1 

198 6 

463 11 

207 6 

52 2 
354 10 
188 6 
175 5 
322 9 
254 7 
193 6 

59 2 



3 1 

312 9 

325 9 

512 12 

319 9 

441 II 

423 11 



477 12 

470 11 

486 12 

252 7 

6 1 
.390 10 
152 5 

7 I 
98 3 

169 5 



6 



ALPHABETICAL I^DEX. 



No. Vol. ; 

Newport, Francis, Last Hours of 142 5 ] 

New !*ettlemeiits, To Inhabitants of 182 5 

New- Year, The 437 11 

Non-conformist's Release. ... 94 3 

Novel-Reading 515 12 

Now or Never 95 3 

Nurse, Russian 413 11 

Objections, Infidel 330 9 

Obligations of a Guardian . . . 127 4 

Obstacles to Conversion .... 339 9 

Old Shusco, History of ... . 97 3 

One Thing Needful 6 1 

Opened, 'J"he Eyes 459 11 

Opened, The Heart 450 11 

Overboard, A Man 458 11 

Ox Sermon, The 475 12 

Pardon for greatest Sinners . . 514 12 

Parental Duties 27 1 

Parental Examples 331 9 

Parental Faithfulness 171 5 

Parents, Mistakes of 296 8 

Parents, To 211 6 

Parents of Sabbath-School Chil- 
dren 157 5 

Parley the Porter 17 1 

Patriot, Appeal to the .... 253 7 
Patterson, Miss Harriet .... 386 10 
Pause and Think, Am I a Chris- 
tian? 106 4 

Pay-Night 102 3 

Payson, Rev. Dr., Last Days of . 324 9 

Peace to the Troubled . "... 14 1 

Pence, Fool's 308 9 

Penitent, Joy in Heaven over the . 178 5 

Pequot of a Hundred Years . . 348 9 

Person engaged in a Lawsuit . . 168 5 

Peter Bayssiere, Conversion of . 251 7 

Piety, Motives to Early .... 322 9 

Pilgrim's Progress, Dialogue from 503 12 

Pious Resolutions 16 1 

Planter, Island 365 10 

Plea for Sacred Music 429 11 

Poor, Gospel for the 506 12 

Poor Joseph 68 2 

Poor Man's House Repaired . . 313 9 

Poor Sarah, the Indian Woman . 128 4 

Poor Swaizeland 256 8 

Poor William 492 12 

Pope, False Claims of .... 432 11 

Pray, I must, in Secret .... 408 10 

Prayer 271 8 

Prayer, Advantages of ... . 234 7 

Prayer and Family Religion . . 91 3 

Prayer for Colleges 480 12 

Prayer, Child's Guide to . . . 29 1 

Prayer, Family 426 1 1 

Prayer, First in the Family . . 411 11 

Prayer for Ministers 469 1 1 

Prayer, Lord's 121 4 

Prayer, Mother's Last . . . .'354 10 

Prayer, My Father's 312 9 

Prayer, Secret 340 9 

Prayer, Swearer's 50 2 

Prayer-Meeting of Forty Years .416 11 

Prayer Meeting, Village .... 199 6 



No. Vol. 

Praying Mother ....... 2;;7 6 

Preached Gospel, Danger of despis- 
ing 82 3 

Prepare to meet thy God ... 347 9 

Price, John, Conversion of ... 110 4 

Private Devotion 406 10 

Procrastination 490 12 

Profane Swearing 12 1 

Progress of Grace 132 4 

Promises to the Liberal .... 433 11 

Prophecies, True 108 4 

Prophecy, Striking Fulfilment of. 310 9 

Public Worship 41 2 

Public Worship, Fifty Reasons for 377 10 

Punishment, Future 350 9 

Punishment, Duration of Future. 181 5 

Punishment, Future, Endless . . 134 4 

Purifying the Heart 61 2 

Putnam and the Wolf .... 240 7 

Quench not the Spirit .... 174 5 

Ciuestion, Great, Answered ... 93 3 

duestions and Counsel .... 113 4 

Questions, Important ..... 117 4 

Rama Chundra, Conversion of . 332 9 
Reasons, T wenty-tv/o, for not being 

a Roman Catholic 02 2 

Reclaimed, Infidel 351 10 

Redeeming the Time .... 360 10 

Redemption, by Gumey .... 33 1 

Reformation of Drunkards . . . 422 11 

Refuge, Christ the only .... 166 5 

Refuge, God a 23 1 

Rejecters of Christianity .... 258 8 

Relatives, Duties to 57 2 

Religion of the Closet 69 2 

Religion, Doctrines and Duties of 70 2 

Religion, Indecision in 263 8 

Religion, Spiritual 237 7 

Religion, To the Neglecter of . .390 10 
Religious Declension, Marks of . 353 10 
Religious Life, To those commenc- 
ing a 262 8 

Rerjiember the Sabbath-Day . . 20 1 

Remorse, Horrors of 495 12 

Repentance 183 5 

Repentance, Hope of Future . . 241 7 

Repentance, Marks of 295 8 

Repentance, Nature and Season of 470 11 

Repentance, Necessity of . . . 252 7 

Rescued Brand 161 5 

Resisted, The Holy Ghost . . .445 11 

Resolutions, Pious 16 1 

Restored, Infidel 484 12 

Restored, Lost Mechanic ... 398 10 

Revival, Means of a 278 8 

Rewards of Drunkenness . . . 159 5 

Righteous, Hope of the . . . .520 12 

Ringleader 355 10 

Robins, John, the Sailor .... 219 6 

Rochester, Earl of 22 1 

Roman Catholic, Reasons for not 

being a 62 2 

Romanism Contradictory to the 

Bible 2.55 8 

Rouge, David 314 9 



ALPHABETICAL LNDEX. 



Ruinous Consequences of Gam- 
bling 

Rush. Dr., on Ardent Spirits . . 
Russian >iurse 



Sabbath. The 

Sabbath a Blessing to Mankind . 

Sabbath, Christian, Appeal for . 

Sabbath at Home 

Sabbath at Sea 

Sab bath -Breaiier Reclaimed . . 

Sabbath-Breaker, Warning to . 

Sabi)ath, Remember the. . . . 

Sabbath, Do your Children Rever- 
ence ? 

Sabbath, Don't Break the . . . 

Sabbath, Institution and Obser- 
vance of 

Sabbath, The Law of ... . 

Sabbath Occupations .... 

Sabbath, Visiting on 

Sabbath-school Teacher, Are you a 

Sabbath-schools, Advantages of . 

Sabbath-school Children, To Par- 
ents of 

Sacred Music, A Plea for . . . 

Sailor, Advice to a 

Sailor, The Aged 

Sailor, Blaspheming, Reclaimed . 

Sailor, Converted 

Sailor's Friend 

Salvation, Importance of . . . 

Salvation to the Uttermost . . . 

Sanctified Afflictions 

Sanctuary, The 

Saturday Evening 

Saviour and Sinner 

Saviour, Sin and Danger of neg- 
lecting ,. . . , 

Saviour, Sinner directed to . . . 

Scape-goat 

Sceptic, Short Method with . . 

Scotsman's Fireside 

Scriptural Morality 

Scripture Help 

Scrijjtures, Search the .... 

Sea, Sabbath at 

Seaman's Spy-glass 

Seaman's Chart 

Search the Scriptures .... 

Season, A Convenient 

Secrc-t Prayer 

Self Communion 

Self-Deceived, Am I J .... 

Self-Dedication to God . . . . 

Self- Examination, Helps to . . 

Serious Inquiry . . ' 

Serious Thoughts on Eternity . . 

Sermon on the Mount 

Sermons, Sixteen Short .... 

Ser|)ent, The Brazen 

Servant, African 

Servant, Anxious 

Seventh Commandment. . . . 

Sewall, Dr., on Intemperance . . 

Shall I come to the Lord's Sup- 
per? 



25 


1 


413 


11 


3r)2 


10 


37 


1 


.50-> 


12 


34 


I 


141 


4 


1G3 


5 


J91 


6 


20 


1 



177 


5 


187 


() 


IIG 


4 


311 


9 


39r. 


10 


272 


8 


157 


.5 


429 


11 


345 


9 


473 


11 


.58 


2 


246 




90 


3 


215 


(i 


518 


12 


99 


3 


223 


7 


102 


3 


452 


11 



152 
111 
2.50 
374 
274 
198 
204 
].5(J 
141 

81 
140 
1.56 
454 
340 
229 

8ti 
407 
146 
212 



114 



511 
53 
343 
195 
249 



Siiepherd of Salisbury Plain 

Shipmates 

Short Method with the Sceptic 

Sin, How, appears in Heaven 

Sketch of Miss Harriet Patterson . 

Simplicity in Dress 

Sin and Danger of Neglecting the 
Saviour 

Sin, Downward Coarse of . . . 

Sin no Trifle 

Sin of Falsehood 

Single Talent I mjiroved . . . 

Sinner and Bible, Dialogue between 

Sinner and the Saviour .... 

Sinner believing 

Sinner Condemned Already . . 

Sinner directed to Saviour . . . 

Sinner Forewarned ..... 

Sinner his own Destroyer. . . . 

Sinner's Friend 

Sinners, Conversion of, a Duty. . 

Sinners welcome to come to Christ 

Sixteen Short Sermons .... 

Slander, Mischiefs of .... 

Sleeping in Church 

Slumberer aroused 

Soul, Christ formed in . . . . 

Soul, Crisis of 

Soul, Worth of 

Spirit Grieved 

Spirit, Holy, Work of the . . . 

Spirit, Ciuench not the ... . 

Spirit, Ardent. See Temperance* 

Spiritual Affections, Decay of . 

S{>iritual Declension 

Spiritual Religion 

Spoiled Child 

Spy-glass, Seaman's 

St. Augustine, Mother of . . . 

Steward, Faithful 

Stifled, Convictions 

Strange Incident ...... 

, Strange Thing 

I Stricken Bride 

Striking Fulfilment of Prophecy . 

Strive, My Spirit shall not al- 

I ways 

[ Strive to enter in at the Strait 
I Gate 

Subjects for Consideration . . . 
I Substance of the Gospel . . . 

Summer Excursion, The Christian 
! Abroad on a 

Surgeon, The Navy 

Swaizeland, Poor 

j Swearer's Prayer 

Swearing, Profane 

Swiss Peas.-uit 

Swiss Reformer 



No. Vol. 



10 1 

88 3 

374 10 

40 2 

386 10 

170 5 



167 5 

399 10 

452 11 

453 11 
412 11 
111 4 
213 6 
371 10 
349 9 
206 6 
46:1 11 

72 2 

309 9 

43 2 

442 11 

149 5 

500 12 

186 6 

380 10 



174 5 
115 4 



28 


1 


81 


3 


4()3 


11 


487 


12 


385 


10 


205 


6 


119 


4 



446 11 
310 9 



325 9 



315 9 

46 2 

517 12 

409 11 

48(5 12 

256 8 

50 2 

12 1 

180 5 

248 7 



269 



12 Talent, Single, Improved . . . 167 5 

2 Tap-root. The 261 8 

9 1 Taylor, George 508 12 

6 j Temper is Every Thing. ... 151 5 

7 j Temperance — Barnes on Traffic in 

Ardent Spirits 305 9 

9 Bible Argument for 276 8 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



Temperance — Dickinson's Appeal 
to Youth on 

To Distillers 

Dr. Edwards on Traffic in Ar- 
dent Spirits 

Eventful Twelve Hours . . . 

Dr. Gridley's Four Reasons . . 

Hitchcock against Manufacture 

Humphrey's Debates of Con- 
science 

Jamie 

Kittredge's Address .... 

Lost Mechanic Restored . . . 

M'llvaine to Young Men . . 

Poor Man's House Repaired . . 

Putnam and the Wolf . . . 

Reformation of Drunkards . . 

Rewards of Drunkenness . . 

Dr. Rush, Effects of Ardent Spir- 
its 

Dr. Sewall on Intemperance . . 

Tom Starboard and Jack Hal- 
liard 

Well-conducted Farm . . . 

Who Slew all these ? . . . . 

Wonderful Escape .... 
Tempest, Christ a Covert from . 
Temptations of Young Men . . 
Theatrical Exhibitions .... 

Thouglits, A Few 

Three Dialogues 

Three Queries to the Rejecters of 

Christianity 

Three Words 

Throne, Messiah's 

Tiger, Don't Unchain the . . . 

Time, End of 

Time, 1 have not 

Time, It is the Last 

Time not Come 

Time, Redeeming the 

Time to Dance 

Time, Voice of 

'Tis all for the Best 

To Day 

Tom Starboard and Jack Halliard 
To the Confident, the Diffident, 

and the Careless 

To Neglecter of Religion .... 

Toulouse, Mary of 

Tracts, Anecdotes of Usefulness 

of 

Tracts, Usefulness of 

Traffic in Ardent Spirits . . . 
Training Children for the Conver- 
sion of the World 

Tranquil, Can you die? . . . . 
Traveller, Conversation with . . 
Traveller and Yourself .... 

Traveller's Farewell 

Traveller at the End of her Jour- 
ney 

Traveller, Christian 

Travellers and Visitors, Hints to . 

Trial. Day of 

Tried, Moral Man 

Trinity, Doctrine of 



No. Vol. I No. Vol. 

1 True Believer Bountiful ... 101 3 

2:}3 7 True Conversion 503 

239 7 True and False Conversions . . 165 

True Prophecies 108 

125 4 Twelve Hours, Eventful ... 395 

395 10 Two Apprentices 129 

288 8 Two Ends and Two Ways . . 160 
242 7 Two Old Men 136 



300 
346 
221 
398 
244 
313 
240 
422 
159 



249 

443 

176 
247 
353 
521 
401 
130 
375 
19 



258 
489 
516 
280 
1.53 
404 
338 
369 
360 
172 
335 
11 
76 
443 

268 
390 
522 

104 

1 

125 

479 
425 
203 
6 
124 



328 
341 
384 
19 
185 



Unanswerable Argument . . . 440 

Universalism, On 155 

L^niversalism Unscriptural and Ab- 
surd 362 

Universalist Refuted 350 

Usefulness of Tracts 104 

Venn, Mrs. Henry 510 

Village Funeral 36 

Village in the Mountains . . . 193 
Village Prayer-Meeting .... 199 

Vining, George 354 

Visit to the House of Mourning . 3 
Visitors and Travellers, Hints to . 341 
Visiting on the Sabbath .... 311 

Voice trom Heaven 243 

Voice of Time 335 



Walking by Faith 

■Warning to Sabbath-Breakers . . 

Warning Voice 

Watchmaker and his Family . . 

Waterman, Happy 

Waterman, Honest 

Way to be Saved 

Way to Heaven , 

Weaver, Yorkshire 

Weaver's Daughter 

We are all Here 

We must Live . ^ 

Wedding Garment 

Well-Conducted Farm . . . . 

Well-Spent Day 

What art Thou ? 

What is a Call to the Ministry? . 

What have I done ? 

What makes tiiem to Differ ? 
What is it to Believe on Christ ? . 

What must I Do ? 

Where did he get that Law ? . . 

Where is he 1 

Who Slew all These 7 . . . . 
Whole Family in Heaven . . . 
Why are you not a Christian ? . . 
Why do we Sit still 1 . . . . 
Why should I Study the Bible ? . 

Why will you Die 1 

Why yet Impenitent ? . . . . 

Widow's Son 

Wife, The Blacksmith's . . . . 
Williams, Ann Eliza .... 
Will it ever be Known ? . . . . 

Will you be Saved ? 

Without Holiness no Man shall see 

the Lord 

Wolf, Putnam and the . . . . 

Word for the Bible 

Word in Season 



131 

191 

5 

85 
105 
235 
179 
466 
426 
438 
381 
474 
100 
176 

55 
304 
285 
279 
136 
357 
329 
321 
299 
247 
298 
481 
435 
447 
496 
483 

35 
456 
359 
418 
505 

4 

240 

216 

90 



ALPHABETICAL L\DEX. 



9 



No. Vol. 
Word in the Ear of professed Chris- 
tian 189 6 

Word of God. On hearing the . 14.5 5 

Word to Mothers 188 6 

\Vords, Tliree 489 12 

Work of the Holv Spirit . ...21 

World, Conversi6n of .... 138 4 

World to Come :K7 9 

AVorld. Live for the 367 10 

World's Conversion Grand Object 

of the Christian 297 9 

Worship, Family 18 1 

VVorship, Public 41 2 

Worship, Fifty Reasons for attend- 
in- Public 377 10 

Worth of a Dollar 208 6 

\Vorth of the Soul 186 6 



No. Vol. 

Would you be Happy ? ... 449 11 

Wralh to Come 436 11 

Ye shall not surely Die . . . . 4.';i 11 

Yorkshire Weaver 426 11 

Younp, Friendly Hints to . . . 201 6 

Younjr Converts, Advice to . . . 196 6 

Youn<; Cottafrer 79 3 

Young Man, Counsels to a . . . 402 10 

Younir Men, Temptations of . . 401 10 

Your Best Friend 414 11 

Youth, Address to 44 2 

Youth, An amiable, falling short 

of Heaven 65 2 

Youth, Appeal to American . . 233 7 

Zuingle, the Swiss Reformer . . 248 7 



INDEX 

TO 

THE SUBJECTS OF THE TRACTS. 



[Principal Series, Twelve Volumes, to No. 522.] 

THE BIBLE. 

Nos. 70, 71, 77, 129, 150, 156, 204, 216, 220, 222, 231, 253, 447, 457. 

REDEMPTION, DIVINITY OF CHRIST, AND THE TRINITY. 
Nos. 30, 33, 45, 111, 166, 173, 225, 250 ; 214 ; 185. 

ALARM AND WARNING. 

Nos. 4, 5, 15, 26, 40, 51, 52, 90, 108, 117, 118, 120, 124, 160, 213, 2.36, 268, 273, 283, 
299, 304, 335, 371. 390, 399, 401, 402, 412, 418, 424, 435, 436, 442, 454, 458, 467, 483, 
489, 490, 495, 500, 520. 

INVITATION AND ENTREATY. 

Nos. 31, 46. 65, 76, 100, 103, ill, 152, 186, 202, 212, 215, 243, 261, 279, 292, 303. 
315, 337, 338, 347, 349, 360, 392, 400, 403, 405, 407, 414, 417, 419, 420, 421, 425, 431. 
437, 440, 448, 449, 450, 452, 453, 459, 462, 464, 466, 470, 472, 478, 481, 482, 496, 497, 
505, 514, 518, 520. 

DAY OF JUDGMENT AND ETERNITY. 
Nos. 32, 51, 54, 114, 122, 153, 260, 277, 327, 384. 

PROCRASTINATION, INDECISION, AND EXCUSES. 
Nos. 17, 76, 80, 95, 241, 263, 275, 281, 284, 302, 368, 369, 382, 391, 404, 412, 439, 
442, 489, 490, 500. 

aUENCHING THE SPIRIT. 
Nos. 174, 325, 380, 385, 445, 500. 

MORALITY AND ALL OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS VAIN. 
Nos. 6, 19, 49, 89, 103, 136, 148, 158, 162, 198, 254, 333, 354, 355, 378, 503, 514. 

THE WAY OF SALVATION BY CHRIST ALONE. 
Nos. 72, 93, 98, 106, 133, 144, 179, 218, 227, 294, 295, 329, 339, 349, 356, 357, 361, 
363, 392, 393, 420, 425, 462, 503, 506, 510, 511, 513, 514, 516, 517, 518, 520, 521. 

REPENTANCE AND FAITH. 
Nos. 178, 183,252, 295, 303,470 ; 93, 131, 179, 294, 329, 356, 357,393, 452, 453, 513. 

SELF-EXAMINATION. 
Nos. 21, 86, 113, 146, 165, 189, 229, 232, 238, 269, 366, 389, 407, 439. 

SPIRITUAL DECLENSION. 
No8. 66, 115. 189, 353. 



INDEX TO SLBJECrS OF TUACTS. ] { 

GROWTH IN GRACE AND CHRISTIAN DUTIES. 
Nos. 2, 16, 24, 55, 60, 61, 69, 131, 132, 196, 224, 232, 237, 262, 265, 278, 285, 316, 
317, 328, 341, 342, 389, 409, 413, 416, 434, 494, 504, 507. 

ELEGANT NARRATIVES. 
Nos. 9, JO, 53, 63, 79, 83, 107, 135, 193, 203, 254, 264, 274, 275, 282, 287, 324, 351, 
355, 359, 365, 370, 383, 386, 420, 438, 441, 403, 486, 487, 522. 

NARRATIVES OF RELIGION, CHIEFLY IN HUMBLE LIFE. 

Nos. 7, 14, 56, 58, 68, 75, 78, 89, 92, 94, 97, 109, 110. 112. 126, 128. 139, 161, 180, 
184, 199, 210, 218, 245, 256, 257, 266, 284, 293, 301, 306, 312, 314. 318, 319, 320, 332, 
343, 344, 348, 354, 373, 379, 385, 388, 395, 410, 413, 438, 446, 455, 456, 461, 492, 495, 
498, 508, 509, 510. 

PRAYER. 

Nos. 69, 91, 121, 234, 271, 340, 406, 408, 469, 480, 499. 

FAMILY WORSHIP. 

Nos. 18, 91, 230, 397, 411, 426, 519. 

PUBLIC WORSHIP. 
Nos. 41, 43, 82, 91, 145, 182, 205, 223, 377, 381. 

THE SABBATH. 
Nos. 8, 20, 34, 37, 85, 102, 116, 177, 187, 191, 311, 334, 336, 352, 415, 474, 502. 

THE LORD'S SUPPER. 
Nos. 84, 269. 

CHRISTIAN EDUCATION, AND PARENTAL AND RELATIVE DUTIES. 
Nos. 27, 28, 127, 143, 171, 194, 197, 211, 296, 326, 331, 336, 387; 57, 67, 298, 444, 
479, 491, 512. 

FEMALE OBLIGATIONS. 
Nos. 175, 188, 207, 226, 463. 

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 
Nos. 101, 147, 170, 208, 217, 235, 304, 316, 394, 423, 433, 434, 476, 487. 

CHRISTIAN EFFORT. 
Nos. 74, 137, 167, 206, 209, 364, 367, 413, 440, 453, 494, 504, 522. 

SPREAD OF THE GOSPEL. 
Nos. 1, 13, KM, 138, 169, 228, 29l, 297, 307, 476, 479, 494, 516. 

SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

Nos. 1.57, 219, 272, 390. 

FOR CHILDREN AND YOUTH. 
Nos. 29, 38, 39, 149, 201, 3-22, 401, 402, 512. 

FOR MOURNERS, THE SICK AND AFFLICTED. 
No«. 3, 36, 59, 372 ; 11, 23, 47, 99, 206, 286, 314. 

FOR SEAMEN. 

Nos. 81, 87, 88, 96, 105, 140. 141, 164. 246, 344. 345, 379. 443. 458, 473, 486. 



12 INDEX TO SUBJECTS OF TRACTS. 

FOR THE AGED, SERVANTS, AND EMIGRANTS. 

Nos. 48, 427 ; 343 ; 468. 

EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 
Nos. 64, 123, 192, 203, 216, 220, 258, 259, 280, 286, 310, 321, 323, 330, 374, 375 
376, 465, 477, 506, 

NARRATIVES OF INFIDELS. 
Nos. 22, 135, 142, 154, 190, 267, 274, 282, 287, 351, 370, 373, 383, 440, 471, 484, 
501. 

UNIVERSALISM. 

Nos. 119, 134, 155, 181, 350, 362, 451, 488 

POPERY. 
Nos. 62, 193, 248, 251, 255, 432, 438, 460, 498, 522. 

JUDAISM. 
No. 388. 

INTEMPERANCE. 
Nos. 25, 125, 159, 176, 221, 233, 239, 240, 242, 244, 247, 249, 276, 288, 300, 305, 
308, 313, 346, 358, 395, 398, 422, 474, 475. 

THE THEATRE, DANCING, GAMBLING, PROFANENESS, AND BAD 
BOOKS. 
Nos. 35, 73, 130 ; 172, 289, 491 ; 200, 428 ; 12, 50, 290 ; 493, 515. 

SEVENTH COMMANDMENT, LYING, SLANDER, LAWSUITS, TEMPER. 
Nos. 195, 485 ; 42 ; 309 ; 168 ; 151. 





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