Chapter V: Part 5

Far be it from me to call in question the reality of such manifestations, which good men in all ages have experienced. But at the same time I must confess, that I cannot look upon them as essential to Salvation. CHRIST JESUS reveals himself to sinners in various methods, and by various means: but the end of all these means and methods is the same, even to produce his own Image of Righteousness and true Holiness in their hearts. Let us hear his own blessed words: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest"--Ye that labour under the evils of fallen life, seduced by its temptations, enslaved by its passions, and heavy-laden with its accumulated guilt and woe, come to me, deeply sensible of your deplorable condition, and earnestly desiring deliverance, and I will give you rest! From the same Oracle of Truth, we learn too, wherein this rest, deliverance, or forgiveness must consist--"Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls." Meekness and lowliness of heart, therefore, is the true rest which CHRIST gives; for, wherever these are, there is Faith, there is Hope, there is Heaven-born Charity.

Tell me, ye favoured souls! who have been "called out of darkness into the marvellous light of GOD;" who have experienced his "Peace, that passeth all understanding;" who have received the sweetest tokens of his Forgiving Grace; tell me, wherein did this marvellous Light, this Peace, this token of Forgiving Grace consist? what kind of sensibility was awakened in you at that happy season?--Was it not a sensibility of Love intense, and Meekness unutterable? a Love, that would have clasped universal nature in its charitable embrace; a Meekness, that would have forgiven the grossest injuries and insults, and condescended to the meanest offices of tenderness and kindness to your brethren?

This, then, is the Knowledge of JESUS CHRIST: in this Gentle Element he delights to move! Let but your souls be attempered to these Divine Sensations, and CHRIST is yours! Seek not for any sudden and extraordinary impulses or ecstasies, but "learn to be meek and lowly in heart!" Ask for Divine Grace to subdue your corrupt and boisterous passions!--Be weary of, and groan under, the burden of your evil nature!--Fly from pride, envy, covetousness, and wrath; and cherish the opposite tempers of meekness, humility, resignation, and love!--Wander not after an imaginary forgiveness: but know assuredly, that there is no other way, in which the All-atoning Blood of the HOLY JESUS can be applied for the pardon of sin, but by inwardly cleansing, redeeming, and purifying your corrupt natures, from every bestial as well as diabolical impurity.

It is in this process alone, that you can know, and be known by your SAVIOUR: and unless you enter upon this, and seek in good earnest to be intimately acquainted with him, thus revealing himself in your hearts; he will one day have good reason to say to you, as he did to his disciple in the text, "Have I been so long time with you, and yet have you not known me?"

DISCOURSE XV.
Human Life a Pilgrimage.

PSALM xxxix. Part of VER. 12.

"FOR I AM A STRANGER WITH THEE, AND A SOJOURNER, AS ALL MY FATHERS
WERE."

In every age of the world, and among people of every nation and language under heaven, (if we may credit the testimony of history and experience) there have been found many virtuous, thoughtful, and enquiring minds; who, from an attentive observation of the moral as well as physical disorders incident to the present system of things, from a personal experience of the unavoidable miseries consequent thereupon, and from a secret irresistible desire and longing after some superior but unknown state of being, have been led to form these most philosophical and pious conclusions:

That their present mode of existence could not possibly be as that for which they were originally intended by a being of Infinite Wisdom, Goodness, and Love; that the intelligent and immortal spirit within them, could not have been created merely to animate a dark terrestrial body, and to be subject to the clamorous demands of animal nature; that the fair signatures of beauty, order, and love, which they still saw, and felt, and admired, within and without them, could not have been originally impressed by the Divine Fiat upon that mixture of darkness, deformity and confusion, in which they now appear; that the primeval harmony and lustre of the creation must, by some means or other, have been marred and spoiled; and that, for these reasons, they could not but consider themselves as the fallen inhabitants of a fallen world.

That these strange disorders must have proceeded solely from the depravity of some created intelligences, they concluded, not only from their own conceptions of the spotless purity and goodness of the Divine Nature, but from their own observation and experience of the innumerable evils that were produced in themselves and others, when ever their wills and affections deviated from the strait paths of virtue, and wandered in the mazes of vice. And yet they saw--and yet they felt--that so numerous and powerful were the temptations and suggestions on the side of vice, that nought but the kind interposition of their good and powerful CREATOR, nought but the super-natural illumination and direction of his BLESSED SPIRIT, could rescue them from the dominion of their passions, open their understanding to the sight of TRUTH, and incline their will to the pursuit and practice of GOODNESS. This affectionate intercourse with their CREATOR, they considered as the only source of their virtue and happiness in this life, as the only earnest of their future and final felicity in the next. Hence they regarded themselves as strangers and exiles in a foreign land, and looked upon death as the season of their deliverance, of their return to their native country, and re-union with their Father and kindred spirits in glory.

Many traces of this sublime philosophy do we meet with in the lives and writings of the virtuous heathen. For, however they may differ from us in their modes of conception and expression, a discerning mind will soon discover, that their feelings were congenial with our own; and that they wanted but the aids of external revelation to enable them to "speak what they knew, and testify what they saw," in the same language which we are instructed to use.

The Sacred Writings, however, afford us the noblest and most indubitable testimonies to the great truths mentioned above. For whatsoever scattered rays of knowledge or of goodness are found here and there gleaming through the shades of paganism;--whatsoever the thrice-great Hermes delivered as oracles from his sacred tripos;--whatsoever Pythagoras, Socrates, Epictetus, Zoroaster, or Confucius, have laboured to inculcate upon the hearts of their disciples--all this, and infinitely more, without any corrupt or superstitious mixture, do we find expressly revealed, with all the marks of Divine Authority, in the Holy Scriptures--all this, and infinitely more, do we find beautifully exemplified in those lives and sayings of patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, which are recorded for our instruction and imitation in the Old Testament as well as in the New.

These venerable teachers and patterns of Truth and Virtue, do all, with one voice, express their deep sensibility of the evils and miseries of their present state of existence, and their ardent aspirations after another and a better state. They all, with one voice, acknowledge the vanity and insufficiency of every sublunary enjoyment, and the indispensable necessity of "setting the affections on things above, not on things on the earth." They all, with one voice, pronounce their state in this world to be that of strangers and exiles; and consider their temporary pilgrimage here, as only intended to purify and prepare them for a state of eternal peace and happiness hereafter. In a word, they all, with one voice, declare, that there is no other method, by which they can be redeemed from the evils of their present life, and qualified for the blessings of a future, but by a perpetual communion with the great FATHER OF THEIR SPIRITS, kept up on his part by kind and liberal effusions of his own essential goodness; and on theirs, by an affectionate and ardent inclination of their wills and desires towards him, and a grateful reception, and faithful improvement of his loving communications.

Under the Old Testament, this blessed intercourse was understood and felt by patriarchs and prophets, through the outward means of sacrifices, types, and various ceremonies and ordinances; all predictive and expressive of a certain Redeeming Process, which, "in the fulness of time," was to be accomplished for human nature, in the person of a suffering and triumphant MESSIAH. Under the New Testament, it broke forth, with meridian lustre, in the incarnation and nativity, life and conversation, sufferings, death, resurrection and ascension of the BLESSED JESUS; in whose sacred person the divine and human natures were most happily united, to the end, that as the SON OF MAN and the SON OF GOD, he might communicate to every Son of Man, that should receive his testimony, and believe in his Name, the power of becoming a SON OF GOD, John i. 12.

His life and conversation upon earth must, therefore, be the true and only standard, by which ours is to be regulated. As he lived, so should we live also; and consider this world in the same point of view, and treat it in the same manner, that he did.

So far, indeed, as the worthies of the Old Testament have lived or spoken according to the spirit of his Gospel, so far, without doubt, we are bound to follow their example: and a very little acquaintance with Scripture will be sufficient to inform us, that "they did all eat of the same spiritual meat, and did all drink of the same spiritual drink," and had all entered upon the same Redeeming Process, with those, who have since lived under the Light of the Gospel, and have known and found this meat and drink to be no other than those spiritual emanations of Truth and Love, which we all receive, or may receive, from CHRIST OUR COMMON SAVIOUR.

When David, therefore, confessed, that he was "a stranger and a sojourner with GOD, as all his fathers were," what was this, but an express declaration, that, though he was encircled with a diadem, and clad in the robes of royalty; though he had his residence in the metropolis of Judea, and exercised an absolute sovereignty over the whole realm; he considered himself, nevertheless, as a stranger in a strange land, far distant from his native country, surrounded by a multitude of enemies, who were perpetually upon the watch to take advantage of any little mistake he might commit, perpetually in arms against him, and determined, if they possibly could, to rob him at once of his kingdom and his peace? What was it, but an humble acknowledgment of his own spiritually helpless and indigent condition? and at the same time an affectionate intimation of his secret hope, that, as his forefathers had been in the same circumstances he was now in, and had experienced the kind interposition of Heaven for their relief and comfort, GOD would be graciously pleased to continue to him the same loving-kindness, accompany support and protect him through his painful sojourn, and conduct him safe to those blessed abodes, which he had prepared for the reception of every true spiritual Israelite? "For I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were."

Upon this view of things, and under the influence of these principles, he composed the pathetic psalm, from whence my text is taken; which exhibits to us a lively representation of the vanity and shortness of human life, the difficulties that attend our pilgrimage through this world, the prudence and circumspection which the pilgrim must observe, the enemies he must expect to encounter on the way, and the confidence he must repose in the strength of a superior and Almighty arm, in order to secure to himself Success and Victory.

The truth of this representation we find abundantly confirmed by the whole tenor of Scripture. The grand apostate seraph is there called "the prince of this world, the prince of the power of the air;" from which, and other expressions of the like import, we may justly conclude, that he was once in possession of this very system which we inhabit--it was the sphere of glory, in which he moved, whilst his lustre yet remained unfaded. Envious, jealous of its new inhabitants, he is perpetually "walking about, seeking whom he may devour." He avails himself of that earthly nature which we inherit from our fallen ancestor, insinuates himself through its foul channels into our inmost hearts, seduces us from the paths of innocence and virtue, and, unless timely rescued by a Superior Power, will hurry us headlong into the depths of his own dark and fiery kingdom.

On the other hand, the GOD of LIGHT and LOVE, who reigns supreme in his own KINGDOM of LIGHT and LOVE, is most affectionately anxious for our preservation. For this gracious purpose, he causes his light to shine forth in the midst of our darkness; discovers to us the secret hostile intentions of our malicious enemy; calls upon us to fly from his infernal wiles; and invites us to walk with himself in his own delightful element, with sweet assurances of peace and consolation here, and glory, honour, and immortality hereafter.

Ill fares the man, whose mistaken heart too easily opens to the false friendship of his flattering foe--he walks upon enchanted ground--there is no reality in the surrounding scene--every object is visionary--the flowers have no real fragrance, the fruits no real flavour or nourishment.--He plucks and eats, but still remains unsatisfied--he plucks and eats again--he discovers the delusion, and yet the delusion pleases him.--The wily enchanter leads him at one time into the gardens of pleasure--at another, conducts him to the pompous edifice of ambition--at another, opens upon his ravished sight the splendid treasures, which Mammon offers to his foolish votaries.--With this pretended friend and guardian he walks the tiresome round, pleased and transported with every new prospect, but loathing the objects as soon as possessed. In the mean while, the calls of a superior nature are totally disregarded, and the soul is suffered to famish within the pampered body.

Not so the wise and virtuous candidate for sublimer joys. His breast is no sooner penetrated by a ray of that Universal Light, "which lighteth every man that cometh into the world," than it opens, with chearfulness and gratitude, to receive more and more of the salutary effulgence. He finds within himself a source of sensibilities, which correspond to a world of objects far more real and sublime, than aught that meets his outward senses in this shadowy scene. He finds, he feels the presence of a true friend and guardian, whose unlimited power can controul the open or secret attacks of his false friend and seducer; whose wisdom can furnish him with every kind of knowledge that is necessary to his real felicity; and whose ineffable love is perpetually feeding and refreshing the angel that is within him, with such fruits and flowers as are of celestial growth, and suited to its celestial frame. With this GUARDIAN GOD, he walks the wilds of nature, unappalled, regardless alike of the smiles and frowns of his spiritual adversaries. He considers himself as a stranger and sojourner in this vale of misery; and under the conduct of Unerring Wisdom, and Almighty Love, pursues his painful pleasing journey to a better country, even an heavenly one.

But this is not all. Care, prudence, circumspection, and confidence in GOD, are not only indispensably necessary to secure to us a safe and happy pilgrimage through life; but they are likewise the best, the only preparatives for an happy and comfortable death.

As strangers and sojourners, we ought to live under a constant expectation of being called home to our native country. This expectation will be either pleasing or painful, according as we are more or less prepared for the awful summons. The summons we cannot dispense with: the time in which it may be pronounced, is altogether uncertain.

Some of us, within a very few years, and some, perhaps, within a very few days, may behold the curtain drop, and shut out every scene of temporal nature from our view. With respect to us, "the heavens and the earth will then pass away with a mighty noise; the sun will be darkened, and the moon turned into blood; the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven will be shaken." Death, judgment, heaven, or hell, will then be realized to our disembodied spirits. "He that is holy will be holy still, and he that is filthy will be filthy still." The dissolution of this outward body will close the season of Divine Grace; the hopes or the fears, the happiness or the misery of man will be determined by his expiring breath; and his GOD will be manifested to him, either in the mild majesty of his Love, or in the consuming fire of his Wrath.

What adds to the solemnity of this dread moment, is the frequent suddenness of its approach. The king of terrors often knocks at the door, when the master of the house is by no means prepared for the awful visit. Nay, he frequently passes by the habitations of age, infirmity, and distress, and thunders forth his tremendous summons in the ears of the young, the gay, and the robust. Neither superior fortune, nor superior station, can protract the fleeting date of life. The monarch tumbles from his throne; and, after the momentary honours of a pompous funeral, makes his bed in the dust, and lies there as poor and undistinguished as the late tenant of the homely cottage. Even piety and virtue cannot screen their votaries from death's unerring shaft; but he is sometimes permitted to snatch away the most amiable patterns of both, in order to awaken the attention, or chastise the carelessness, of their friends and neighbours.

Happy would it be for mankind, if these frequent indiscriminate strokes did but produce a more general and serious attention to "the things that belong to their peace:" and happy for you, my dear brethren, if the solemn truths that have now been delivered, are permitted to have a due weight and influence on your lives and practice!

Examine yourselves, then, by these principles. Look well into the present state of your souls. Be these important reflections continually present to your minds--that you are but "strangers and sojourners upon earth;" that every object, that attracts and engages your desires and affections here, must very shortly be removed from you for ever; that it is folly and madness to take up your rest in such poor perishable things, as the present world affords, inasmuch as death must soon put an end to their shadowy forms, and translate you to a world, where all is real--all is eternal.

Do not deceive yourselves. A gay and thoughtless life is no suitable preparation for death. The heart must be gradually estranged from the vanities of time, before it can turn its desires towards the riches of eternity. You have heard of the difficulties you may expect to meet with, of the enemies you will have to encounter, on your way to heaven. Up then, and be doing. No time is to be lost. Every moment is precious: "it carries Heaven on its wing." The victory is secure, if you will but arm yourselves for the conflict. Your Heavenly FATHER is perpetually drawing and inviting you to enter the lists, and contend for the prize. His Eternal SON hath promised to be with you, and in you. And the blessed SPIRIT, proceeding from both, will inspire you with all that celestial strength and ardour, which alone can render you "more than conquerors." Thus are you furnished, from the armoury of heaven, with a divine panoply, which, upon trial, you will find impenetrable to "all the fiery darts of the wicked."

"Fear not, then, thou worm, Jacob! Be not dismayed, for thy God is with thee!" Blessed encouragement, this! What though you are strangers and sojourners upon earth, yet remember for your consolation, that you are strangers and sojourners with GOD--"For I am a stranger and sojourner WITH THEE."

O MY brethren! what ineffable peace and satisfaction would spring up in your hearts, could you once realize to yourselves, could you once feel, the perpetual presence of an OMNIPOTENT GOD, travelling with you on the journey of life, supplying all your wants, supporting you under all your difficulties and distresses, and, with the affectionate fondness of a father, minutely entering into all your real interests and concerns! To know, that you are his offspring, fallen indeed, but redeemed by his BLESSED SON: that his love for you is so ardent, that "whoso toucheth you his children, toucheth the apple of his eye; that in all your afflictions he is afflicted, and that the angel of his presence saves and delivers you; that he will never leave you comfortless, but will be with you always, even to the end of the world!" These are such sweet and delightful assurances, as you could never have collected from the vain reasonings of worldly philosophy, or the vain confidence, which many pretend to derive from mere unassisted human virtue.

Upon this ground you may rest secure; and, in the strength of an Almighty arm, bid defiance to the open assaults, or secret stratagems of the enemies of your peace. Whilst the SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS continues to impart his chearing beams, and fountains of living water spring up on every side to refresh the weary pilgrim, you may pursue your journey through the VALLEY OF BACA, with peace and confidence; you may "lift up your heads with joy, as the Ransomed of the LORD;" and "proceed from strength to strength, till you appear before the GOD OF GODS in SION."

DISCOURSE XVI.
The true Knowledge of God internal and practical.

JOB, CHAP. xlii. VER. 5, 6.

"I HAVE HEARD OF THEE BY THE HEARING OF THE EAR; BUT NOW HATH MINE
EYE SEEN THEE: THEREFORE I ABHOR MYSELF, AND REPENT IN DUST AND
ASHES."

We can scarcely open any part of the Scriptures, but we meet with the following great and leading truths of Religion: viz. that the LOVE OF GOD is universal; that his "GRACE, which bringeth Salvation, hath appeared unto all men;" that he hath given a "manifestation of his Spirit to every man, to profit withal;" that "GOD so loved the world, that he hath given his ONLY-BEGOTTEN SON, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting Life:" that he is "the True Light, that lighteth every man that cometh into the world;" that GOD "wills not the death of a sinner, but rather that he would be converted and live;" that his call has been, and now is to "every man," every where, "to repent;" and that every man may partake of this Universal Love, may be saved by this "Grace which hath appeared," may profit by the manifestation which GOD hath given him.

To these great and leading truths we are continually called and exhorted to attend; and that there is a possibility of attending and yielding to them, is implied in the very nature and spirit of the declarations themselves. For, certainly, all is in vain--the call to all in vain, the appearance of Grace to all in vain, the gift and manifestation of the Spirit to every one in vain, and the shining of the Light in vain, if fallen man is not put into a capacity of obeying it, and walking therein.

"Man's destruction is of himself"--If his distempered nature is not healed, if his soul continues unredeemed, it is not because there is no "Balm in Gilead;" it is not because "the arm of the LORD is shortened, that it cannot save," or the fountain of LOVE so exhausted, that its streams have ceased to flow--but because men will not avail themselves of the healing Balm; because they refuse to be gathered by that compassionate Arm, that is continually stretched forth to save; because they will not open their souls to receive the Waters of Life. Their eyes are so blinded by the false glare of earthly beauty, that they cannot see the surpassing excellency of the Divine Glory--their ears are so deaf, that they have no delight in hearing or obeying the Divine Voice--they are content to walk on in the broad way, and suffer the enemy of their souls to take them captive at his pleasure. Thus entered sin at the beginning--thus it continueth, increaseth, and prevaileth.

No man, in his present deplorable state, can open that eye which was blinded by sin; nor unstop that ear which was sealed by his apostasy from his Maker; nor save or deliver himself from the bondage of corruption. Herein, therefore, is the UNIVERSAL LOVE OF GOD made manifest, that "he hath laid help upon one that is Mighty, who is able to save to the uttermost those that come to him;" that he hath appointed and prepared a "Seed that can bruise the serpent's head;" that he hath caused his Light to shine in the Hearts of all men; and hath called all men every where to repent--Now if man still continues to shut his eyes, and harden his heart, and refuse to be reconciled, "his destruction is of himself, and GOD will be just when he judgeth."

But here the grand question may be asked--How doth GOD manifest himself to his creatures? There is no Revelation in these days--no spiritual visions now.--no such Sight of GOD, as Abraham, Moses, the Prophets, and the Primitive Christians were favoured with--GOD forbid!--for surely where there is no vision, no sight or sense of heavenly things, there is the Lost State indeed!--where there is no Revelation, there can be no True Knowledge of GOD-for what saith the Scripture--"None knoweth the Father but the Son, and he to whom the SON will reveal him?"

Ever since the vail was spread over the human heart, there never was any other way in any age, nor can there be in this age, of coming to the true Knowledge of GOD, but by Revelation; that is, by taking off the vail, and removing the covering that hides the Face of GOD from man.--Men "have sought out many inventions," and devised many ways and means of coming to the knowledge of the Deity; moral and even mathematical demonstrations of his existence, have been attempted; but all in vain. As such inventions and devices have increased, sorrow and perplexity have increased also: and even if they have succeeded so far, as to satisfy the natural understanding, what is it, at best, but a kind of historical knowledge, a strong conceit or imagination of something concerning GOD, without any thing like a sensibility of his Presence, or an intuitive self-evident conviction of his nature and attributes?--Far different this from the knowledge which Job experienced, and which every real Christian may express in his language: "I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now hath mine eye seen thee: therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

It is not improbable, but Job might have amused himself, like some of our modern philosophizing Christians, with fine-spun theories and speculations upon the nature and attributes of the DIVINITY; and whilst the tide of temporal prosperity continued to flow in upon him, whilst "he washed his steps in butter, and the rock poured out for him rivers of oil," whilst his health continued unimpaired, and his domestic bliss uninterrupted, such empty researches might have been sufficient to entertain his imagination; and such an outward knowledge of the MOST HIGH, might satisfy a soul, that was yet insensible of any spiritual or temporal wants or distresses. But let the hand of GOD fall heavy upon him; let his body be visited with pain and sickness, and his soul wounded with grief and disappointment; let him be stripped of all his worldly affluence, and deprived of all his domestic comforts; and he will soon find, that the wants of nature, when deeply felt, are not to be supplied by reasoning and speculation; that an outward hearsay knowledge of GOD is of no avail; that it cannot administer the least relief either to the body or the mind; that it cannot sooth or mitigate one bodily pain, or send one ray of light into the dark and comfortless regions of the soul.

Go to the chambers of sickness, visit the melancholy retreats of indigence and woe! produce there your strong reasonings--strive, with learned labour, to open and convince the understandings of your suffering brethren--enumerate to them all the outward evidences, that you can collect, of the great truths of religion--give them proof upon proof, demonstration upon demonstration--talk to them of the Nature and Attributes of GOD, and the immortality of their souls--tell them what the SON OF GOD hath done and suffered for sinners; what are the means of reconciliation, and what the sure grounds of an happy death--give them all that they can receive "by the hearing of the ear"--and what have you done, and what have they gained?--Why you have done just as much as an unskilful physician would do, who entertained his patient with a learned dissertation upon the virtues and excellencies of a certain medicine, which he had somewhere read or heard of, as admirably adapted to the disorder, but which he had never seen with his eyes, and of the nature of which he knew nothing by his own experience. Thus it is with this outward knowledge of GOD: the poor soul is left to feed upon words or ideas, and to seek comfort, in vain, in empty speculations.

Fruitless, indeed, are such attempts as these! Till the soul is shaken to her very center, till the stone is removed from the door of the sepulchre, that GOD who "makes darkness his secret place," can never be seen. The eye must be turned inwardly, to view what is passing in the inmost soul, to discover what its wants and necessities are, as well as what will supply them, and yield it peace, and yield it happiness, from an inexhaustible source. It must feel its own darkness, before it can seek to have it enlightened--The same Light that breaks in upon it like the dawn of day, gives it the first sensibility of distress, as well as the first sensibility of consolation "now hath mine eye seen thee, therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes"--I now feel the misery of nature without GOD--I feel nothing but darkness, and want, and hunger, and thirst! But in this darkness, under this want, in this hunger and thirst, the soul must wait, without reasoning, without repining, in stillness, in silence, till the invisible GOD shines into the darkness, and till the darkness comprehends and eagerly imbibes the Light, and he, in whom is no darkness at all, manifesteth his Presence by a self-evident sensibility.

Thus it is, that man, by virtue of the Redeeming Power of the Second Adam, implanted in his heart as a spark of Heavenly flame, hidden under the flesh and blood of fallen nature, is revived, quickened, and enlightened. The Heavenly Birth soon perceives and owns its parent--the outward knowledge gives way to the inward manifestation--and GOD, and Heaven, and Goodness, and Grace, are seen and known, and felt by their own incontestible workings in the human Heart. Hence, the fruits of the SPIRIT, the fruits of Heaven, begin to bud and blossom: "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness," are felt and practised; and the soul lives and breathes in the Heavenly world, even whilst she inherits this frail tenement of clay.

And now, my brethren, is not such a Knowledge of GOD worth possessing? A Knowledge, that unites you to him; makes you One Heart and Spirit with him; gives the highest relish to all the joys, and the firmest support under all the evils of life; which will stand by you, when every outward comfort fails, when relations, friends, wealth, power, and all that earth is able to supply, can no longer yield you the least support or satisfaction.

Some of the great obstacles and impediments to the attainment of this Knowledge, I shall enumerate in my next discourse.

DISCOURSE XVII.
The true Knowledge of God internal and practical.

JOB, CHAP. xlii. VER. 5, 6.

"I HAVE HEARD OF THEE BY THE HEARING OF THE EAR; BUT NOW HATH MINE
EYE SEEN THEE: THEREFORE I ABHOR MYSELF, AND REPENNT IN DUST AND
ASHES."

In a former discourse from these words, I explained to you the difference between that Knowledge of GOD which is obtained by "the hearing of the ear," and that which arises in the human heart, from a spiritual sensibility of his Presence and Power within us. I observed, that the former was, at best, but a kind of historical knowledge, or, perhaps, nothing more than a strong conceit or imagination of something concerning GOD; far different from that intuitive, self-evident, saving Knowledge of him, which Job speaks of in the text, and which every truly pious foul cannot but feel. I endeavoured, likewise, to point out the Rise and Progress of this Knowledge, as well as the blessed Fruits or Effects of which it is certainly productive. I then concluded with asking you, whether such a Knowledge of GOD as I had been describing, was not worth your possessing? A knowledge, that would unite you to him, make you One Spirit, One Will, One Nature, with your heavenly Father--that would give the highest relish to all the joys, and support you under all the evils of life; that will stand by you, when every outward comfort fails, when friends, and relations, and wealth, and power, and all that earth is able to supply, can no longer yield you the least support or satisfaction.

Convinced, as I think you must needs be, of the infinite value of such a possession as this, I would now ask you, what it is that keeps you from desiring and seeking to obtain it. Your answer, if you knew yourselves, would be, that you did not at present feel the want of it.--This state of insensibility, therefore, to "the things that belong to your peace," must arise from certain obstacles and impediments, which, agreeable to my promise, I now proceed to enumerate.

We are told, that the famous Selden, on his death-bed, sent for archbishop Usher, and, in the course of a most serious and affecting conversation, assured him, that he had accurately surveyed almost every part of literature and science, that was held in the highest esteem by the sons of men; that he had a study filled with the most valuable books and manuscripts in the world; and yet, that, at that time, he could not recollect one single passage out of any volume in this large collection, upon which he could rest his soul, or from which he could derive one ray of consolation, except some that he had met with in the Holy Scriptures; and that the most remarkable passage that then made the deepest impression upon his mind, was this: "For the GRACE OF GOD that bringeth Salvation, hath appeared unto all men, teaching us, that denying ungodliness, and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearance of the great GOD, and our Saviour JESUS CHRIST."

"The GRACE OF GOD," indeed, "hath appeared unto all men." One of the principal impediments to their sight of this Grace, is what poor Selden complained of, viz. a looking for it in the writings of human reason, and expecting to find it by the same learned labour with which we investigate some mathematical or logical truth. Selden, with all his learning, therefore, was obliged to seek for a True Knowledge of GOD, in the volume of his own heart; and, agreeable to the direction of an outward revelation, to look for the appearance of that Grace which it promised, in a place, which his genius had not yet explored, and which could never have been revealed to his outward eye. He had, no doubt, "heard of GOD by the hearing of the ear," and could have accurately demonstrated his existence and attributes--but, till that blessed moment, "his eye had never seen him."

Thus, all those fine literary accomplishments, which feed the pride of the scholar, (though, when properly applied, they have their uses, and great uses too) must, nevertheless, be sacrificed, when they prove, as they frequently do, very great impodiments to a spiritual knowledge of GOD. The most towering genius upon earth, can never gain admittance into the Kingdom of Heaven, till he condescends to the simplicity of a child, and with faith and humility opens his heart to his Heavenly Father for that true wisdom, which can only come by immediate revelation from him.

But the "wisdom of this world," or "science falsely so called," is not the only impediment to our spiritual sight of GOD. There are many, who, under a specious pretence of making a proper and honourable provision for their families, involve themselves so deeply in business, as it is called, that they will not allow themselves a single moment to attend to the concerns of another world. And were we to enquire the reason of this strange conduct, they might very properly make us the same answer, which the Duke of Alva made to King Henry IV. upon another occasion: Did you observe, my Lord Duke, said the Monarch, the great eclipse of the sun, that lately happened?--No, may it please your Majesty, replied the Duke--I have so much business to do on earth, that I have no leisure to look up to heaven. In truth, my brethren, your mere men of business, and a trading city like ours abounds with temptations to this kind of life; I say, your mere men of business, either forget, in the hurry of affairs, that their souls are immortal, and ought therefore to be fed and attended to at least as much as their bodies; or else, to quiet their consciences, they reason themselves into a belief that their souls may die with their bodies, and therefore all thought or concern about religious matters, is useless, and will only interrupt their worldly pursuits.

Success in trade introduces wealth, and, with it, its never-failing attendant, luxury. From this fatal source proceed a thousand impediments to a religious life, that are more readily felt than enumerated. Hence an amazing increase of expence, with an increasing taste for high living, sumptuous apparel, and splendid entertainments. By an immoderate attention to these, the minds of men are gradually weaned from those good impressions, which they have received in their earlier years, from sober, frugal, and industrious parents.--The peasant treads close upon the heels of the courtier; and such is the reigning fondness for what is called fashionable life, that people of the most affluent circumstances, and who move in the highest sphere, are scarcely to be distinguished from those of the most scanty fortunes; and even indigence itself puts in its claim for a share of the outward glitter.--And it were well, if the evil proceeded no further than this.

But if things should come to such a pass, that Religion itself, nay, even the very appearances of it, should be deemed unfashionable; if people should be afraid to come to the house of GOD, lest they should have their taste called in question, lest they should be suspected by their gay and worldly friends, of entertaining one serious thought about another world, about GOD and their own souls; if the Sabbath, instead of being wholly dedicated to, and spent in the service of, that GOD by whom it was instituted, should be either lolled away in indolence, or spent in posting of books, settling of accounts at home, or devoted to entertainments and parties of pleasure abroad; if such should be the consequences of an immoderate pursuit of business, and an inordinate fondness for a fashionable life, would you not conclude, that these were surely the greatest and most dangerous impediments to a true and saving knowledge of GOD? If these evils have not appeared in such a degree, as I have described them, I think, at least, they are not far from it; and I begin to fear, that the time is approaching, when many amongst us will be so far from "seeing GOD," as Job expresses it, "with their eyes," that they will not even "hear of him by the hearing of the ear." For believe me, my brethren, we cannot know GOD, we cannot even desire to know him, whilst our whole hearts and minds are engaged in the things of the world, whilst we turn, with all the eagerness of desire, to the senseless pageantry and pleasures of a vain and trifling age.

Shall I spare myself the pain of telling, what ought not to be an offence to you to hear?--or will you give me leave to point out to you, in plainer terms, what I apprehend to be your principal impediments to such a view of the Divine Majesty, as would lead you to "abhor yourselves, and repent in dust and ashes."

It cannot be denied, that luxury, extravagance, and dissipation of every kind, have, within these few years, made a most rapid progress amongst us.--Your ministers have long, perhaps too long, been silent upon these subjects.--But though preventive medicines are sometimes given with success, yet the symptoms of a disorder, as they appear in its process, are what must principally direct the application. What they have now to say, comes to you with this corroborating circumstance in its support, that we speak not from what we have apprehended might be, but from what we have seen hath actually come to pass.

We have observed, with real heart-felt concern, a general proneness to pleasure, and a general indifference to the very forms of religion.--Our discourses, though without particular applications, have been adapted, as far as we were able to judge, to the circumstances of the people whom we addressed.--We have not, however, been unconcerned spectators of your conduct. We have observed, with what eagerness many of you have crouded to scenes of amusement and dissipation, and what backwardness you have shewn in attending the publick worship of GOD. Even the man of business could devote many hours in the week, to the calls of worldly pleasure, whilst he refused to give one to the calls of GOD upon his own Sabbath.

Matters are, indeed, too serious to be passed by in silence. We are your ministers, we are your servants; we should not be faithful to you, nor to ourselves, were we to neglect giving you the alarm, when we saw, or even apprehended, that you were in imminent danger. The enemy hath already entered your houses--he hath entered your hearts! Under the specious disguise and appellation of innocent amusements, he is secretly drawing off your hearts from GOD, and carrying you away captive at his will--Use not, I beseech you, the word innocent, in vindicating your pleasures--Nothing can be innocent, let it be ever so seemingly trifling, that wholly engrosses the mind, and takes it off from attending to the great concerns of Salvation. Amusements, though they may be innocent at first, become more or less criminal, as they have a greater or less tendency to wean the heart from GOD. Upon this maxim, I leave it to your own experience to determine, what particular kind of amusements has had the greatest tendency to effect this in you.

Far be it from me, to declaim, with an affected pharisaical severity, against innocent recreations of any kind. But, Gracious GOD! can a Christian complain of want of amusements, that has a family round him; that has a dear child, or children, to educate; that has brothers, or sisters, or relations, or friends; with whom he can live in a most sweet and delightful intercourse of endearing offices? What a strange perversion of nature, sense, and reason, to take delight in going abroad, to have our affections excited by imaginary objects and romantic representations, when we have so many real ones at home, in the course of every day, and in the way of our duty, to call forth and promote their best and highest exercise? I do not descend to particulars--let these few hints suffice.--I have delivered them in love--in love, I hope, they will be received.

Permit me, however, once more to repeat--that it is this immoderate fondness for pleasure and dissipation, that keeps you from feeling the real wants of your nature, and, consequently, from applying to the true and only Source, from whence they can be fully satisfied. But this deception cannot last long; false happiness has no sure foundation; it must, therefore, totter and fall at last. You will not always be as gay, as healthy, and as prosperous, as you are now.--The vigour of the best constitution cannot long preserve you from sickness, and from death.--Neither the abundance of wealth, nor the increase of power, nor the support of popularity, can long protect you from disappointment and distress. You may think as lightly as you please of religious duties now; but, depend upon it, the hour is at hand, when every little neglect of them, every little preference you have given to the solicitations of pleasure, will wound you to the very heart. You will then be convinced of the danger of trifling with that immortal spirit that is within you; and deeply regret, that you have been so far from having "seen GOD," spiritually manifested in your hearts, that you have scarcely "heard of him by the hearing of the ear."

I cannot dismiss you, without one observation more. Hypocrisy, and a pharisaical righteousness, are as great, and perhaps greater impediments to the true Knowledge of GOD, than any of those I have already mentioned. The root is deeper, the evil more difficult to be eradicated.

Should any of you, therefore, have been solacing yourselves with the view of your own fancied virtues, and thanking GOD, that you have not, like others, been running after this or the other new and fashionable amusement, but have kept yourselves strictly within the pale of outward duties; I beseech you not to be too liberal of your censures, nor too forward in prying into the conduct of your neighbours; but to look at home with a jealous and watchful eye, to examine your own hearts, and see, that whilst ye are "paying tithe of mint, and annise, and cummin," ye do not "neglect the weightier matters of the law, mercy, justice, forbearance, and charity." Whilst ye have "heard of GOD by the hearing of the ear," your eyes, perhaps, may not yet have seen him; whilst you are abhorring and standing aloof from your brethren, as if ye were holier than they, ye do not "abhor yourselves, and repent in dust and ashes." Remember, that a censorious spirit, and a disposition to think and speak evil of others, is as foreign to the Spirit of Christianity, as any other evil temper or disposition can be.

To conclude: A true Christian will lament the general decline of Religion, and wish and pray for better times, without being angry, or shewing any marks of unkindness to his brethren. Yea, so far from keeping himself at a distance, he will mingle, as occasion or duty calls, with men of every class. He will be religious without severity, and chearful without dissipation; he will instruct without seeming to dictate, and reprove with such mildness, that his very censures shall be received as the highest tokens of his love.

In this sweet Spirit of the Gospel of JESUS, Heaven grant that we may mutually receive and impart such truths, as "belong to our peace," both here and hereafter!

DISCOURSE XVIII.
On the Nativity of Christ.

St. LUKE, CHAP. ii. from VER. 6 to 20.

"AND SO IT WAS, THAT WHILE THEY WERE THERE, THE DAYS WERE
ACCOMPLISHED, THAT SHE SHOULD BE DELIVERED," &c.

In the first chapter of his Gospel, the Evangelist has given a particular account of the conception and birth of John the Baptist, the Salutation of the BLESSED VIRGIN, and her miraculous conception of the HOLY JESUS. According to a regular series of historical facts, this second chapter opens with a like circumstantial narrative of the nativity of our BLESSED REDEEMER.

An edict is issued by Augustus Cæsar, enjoining all the subjects of the Roman empire to repair to their several cities, in order to have their names enrolled for a general taxation. In obedience to this imperial decree, Joseph, the espoused husband of Mary, is obliged to leave Nazareth, the place of his residence, and take a journey to Bethlehem the city of David, to be enrolled there, because he was of the house and lineage of David. Mary, his espoused wife, though "great with child," accompanies him. A most remarkable interposition of Divine Providence appears in the whole transaction. The prophets had foretold, that the MESSIAH should be born at Bethlehem, and that he should descend from the family of David. The Roman emperor's decree was rendered subservient to the accomplishment of these prophecies. Mary was thereby brought to Bethlehem, and delivered of the MESSIAH, and her descent from the royal line of David was publickly recognized.

Ver. 6. "And so it was, that while they were there, the days were accomplished, that she should be delivered."

Ver. 7. "And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

A plain but affecting narrative! The apartments of the inn, we may suppose, were occupied by more honourable guests. The Virgin Mother was content to retire to a stable, and to lie down among brutes. Hapless Mary! we are ready to exclaim--is it thus, that the promises of the Angel are to be accomplished? Is this to be "highly favoured?" And are these the blessings, by which thou art to be distinguished from the rest of thy sex? Must thy spotless Babe, at the very instant of his birth, enter upon his Labour of Love? and must the stable at Bethlehem be the first scene of that awful drama, which was afterwards closed on the trembling top of Calvary?

But in what manner was the appearance of this illustrious Babe made known to the world? Should not the princes and great ones of the earth have had proper intelligence of his arrival, that they might have hastened from their several kingdoms and provinces, thrown themselves at his feet, paid him the homage due to his exalted character, and obliged all their subjects to do the same? No--."GOD'S thoughts are not as man's thoughts, neither are his ways as man's ways." The same reason for which he thought proper to send his Angel to the humble Mary, induced him now to give the first notice of his SON'S birth to a few simple shepherds.

Ver. 8. "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night."

Ver. 9. "And lo, the Angel of the LORD came upon them, and the Glory of the LORD shone round about them, and they were sore afraid."

The pastoral life was once thought to be the happiest and most innocent life upon earth. Far from the noise of cities, and the hurry of the busy world, free from its anxieties, and ignorant of many of its vices, they enjoyed the full tranquillity of the rural scene. As their flocks were their only care, they had abundant leisure for meditation and prayer. As they had no schemes of interest or ambition to accomplish, they were plain, unprejudiced, and undesigning men. A few of these shepherds were in the fields, bordering upon Bethlehem, watching by turns their sheep the whole night, as was the custom of the country; when their senses were suddenly struck with a great and unusual glare of light, in the midst of which appeared an Angel of GOD, bright and glorious. They were confounded with the excessive splendor. They trembled, and were sore afraid. But the Angel, with all the sweetness and chearfulness of Heaven in his countenance, thus comfortably addressed them:

Ver. 10. "Fear not: for, behold! I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people."

Ver. 11. "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is CHRIST the LORD."

Be not afraid! I am come, not to terrify you, but to bring you great and joyous tidings, in which not yourselves only, but the whole nation of the Jews, yea, all the inhabitants of the world, are deeply interested! For he, of whom all the prophets prophesied, and whom all the people of Israel have, according to the promise of GOD, long and ardently expected, even the MESSIAH, the Saviour and Deliverer, is this night born in Bethlehem, the city of David.