SERMON I.
THE IMPORTANCE OF THE RISING GENE­RATION.

IT is a very beautiful [...] ancient Jewish writer,^* which has its [...] amongst some of the finest of the Heathen Poets^†, that ‘as of the green leaves on a thick tree, some fall, and others grow; so of the generations of flesh and blood, one cometh to an end, and another is born.’ In this respect the resemblance is obvious; but there is another, in which it will not always so evidently hold. We perceive not any remarkable difference between the leaves of one year, and of another: they which open at the return of the Spring, are com­monly as large and fair as those which the preced­ing [Page 14] [...] had destroyed. But it has been mat­ter of long lamentation, that the children of men are continually sinking into deeper and deeper de­generacy. Solomon^(a) denies not that the former days were better then the present, when he cautions against too curious an inquiry into the reasons why such an alteration was permitted: and those who [...] little else of the most celebrated writers of an­tiquity, can quote their complaints on this melancho­ly occasion. They can tell you, that Homer^* ob­served, ‘that children are seldom better, but fre­ [...]quently worse, than their parents;’ and they of­ten repeat that lively and comprehensive acknow­ledgment of Horace^†: ‘our Fathers, who fell short of the virtues of their Ancestors, have produced us a generation worse than themselves; and our children will be yet more degenerate than we.’

THESE complaints and fore-bodings have been borrowed by every age since they were published, and are to this day borrowed by us, as what we ima­gine more applicable to ourselves than to those who wrote them, or to any who have already [...] them. I will not say, there is universal cause for such an application; but I am sure, the face of af­fairs in many families, and, may I not add, in many churches too, is abundantly sufficient not only to excuse, but to vindicate it.

IN the midst of this mournful survey, the heart of every pious Israelite will tremble for the A [...]k of the Lord, and he will be ready to say, perhaps with [Page 15] an excess of solicitude and of anguish. ‘what will the end of these things be^(a). Surely God will utterly abandon those who so basely desert him in contempt of the cleared revelation of his gospel, and the most engaging [...] awakening calls of his providence. The very memory of religion will at length be lost; and when the Son of Man cometh, he will not find faith on the earth^(b).’

Now there seems to be something in the very sound of the text which may relieve our minds un­der these gloomy apprehensions. A seed shall serve him, it shall be accounted to the Lord for a genera­tion: they shall come, and declare his name to a third succession; a people who shall be born of them. Here is an evident promise or prediction, that the knowledge and the fear of God should be propa­gated from one age and generation to another: and this must be an agreeable assurance, whatever the particular occasion were on which it was [...]. Were this Psalm to be considered only [...] the calamities of David, and the wonderful deliver­ance which God wrought out for him the words be­fore us might be improved for our own [...] on the justest principles of analogy: for [...] salvation granted to him were to [...] so deep and so lasting an impression on [...], and o [...] future ages, how reasonably, [...] be expected from that [...] and extensive salvation, which is [...] in the everlasting gospel?

BUT after all, the application of [...] scripture, to the purposes for [...] i [...], does not depend on so [...]; for if we [...] and diligently survey the [...] [Page 16] are described in the several parts of it, we must be obligest to confess, that a greater than David is here. It contains a most lively and sublime prophe­cy of the sufferings of the Messiah, and the exalta­tion with which they were to be rewarded^(a); and particularly mentions the calling of the gentiles in­to his church, and the propagation of his religion to future ages^(b). All the ends of the world shall re­member and turn unto the Lord; and all the kin­dreds of the nations shall worship before thee; all they who are fat upon the earth, i. e. (by an usual Hebraism) persons of eminent rank and in plentiful circumstances^(c), shall eat and worship, i. e. they shall pay their public homage to him, and enter themselves solemnly into his covenant, as the Jewish votaries did by eating of the sacrifices which were offered to him; and on the other hand, those that go down to the dust, i. e. who are in the most indigent circumstances, shall bow before them^(d), even he that cannot keep alive his own soul^†, who is so poor [Page 17] that wants the necessaries of life; as if it had been said, there shall be an universal submission to him, in which the greatest and meanest shall concur. And the text assures us, that his triumphs shall be as last­ing, as extensive: a future Seed shall serve him; they shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation; i. e. being brought to the knowledge and the profession of the true religion, they shall be owned by God as his people: and it shall be their pious care, to de­clare this glorious display of his righteousness^(a) to a people who shall be born of them, that he has done this; that it is the hand of God which has wrought out this great salvation. And though there are not many generations mentioned here, yet other scriptures assure us, that the kingdom of the Messiah is to be of a perpetual duration, and conse­quently that such promises as these are to be taken in their utmost extent. In his days shall the righ­teous flourish, and abundance of peace, so long as the moon endureth: his name shall endure for ever; his name shall be continued as long as the sun; and men shall be blessed in him^(b).

UPON the whole then, it appears, that the words of the text are a prophecy, that the kingdom of Christ shall be perpetual, and extend itself to the lat­est generations, as well as the remotest climates: and, through the divine goodness, we must acknow­ledge, that this day is this scripture in part fulfilled among us. We dwell in a country, which, with re­gard to Judea, lay at the ends of the earth, and which was long over-run with barbarity and idolatry yet we are now instructed in the knowledge of the God of Israel, and are this day assembled for his worship; so that at the distance of more than two thousand years from the publication of this pre­diction, we are the living witnesses of its truth; be­ing [Page 18] ourselves a seed who prosess to serve the Lord, and accounted to him for a generation.

I HOPE it is the concern of many of us, that the concluding words may be fulfilled in those who come after us; that his gospel righteousness may so be de­clared to them, that they likewise might be engaged to serve the Lord not only in the external forms of the true religion, but with the affections of the heart, and the obedience of the life.

THAT this concern may be more [...] more ac­tive, and more universal, it will be the business of my present discourse, to represent to you at large the importance of the rising generation. And here I would aim, not merely at the demonstration of a spe­culative truth, which may leave your minds as cold and as irregular as it found them; but I would la­bour, by the divine assistance, to possess you with such a sense of the [...], as may have a powerful influence on your temper and behaviour; that so our medi­tations on this excellent promise may, through the concurrance of God, be the means of its more com­plete accomplishment.

I AM now particularly concerned, that you, my younger brethren, may be impressed with what I say: I shall therefore address myself directly to you, and endeavour to shew how important and desira­ble it is, that YOU be early tinctured with a sense of religion, and heartily engaged in the service of God.

MAY the spirit of God, in the mean time, so speak to your hearts, as that life and energy may be add­ed to those convictions which, I am confident, your reason will not be able to oppose!

Now I would intreat you, on this occasion, seri­ously to consider the importance of your character and behaviour, with regard both to yourselves and others.

[Page 19] I. NOTHING can be of greater importance, with regard to yourselves, than your being early en­gaged in the service of God.

IT is a consideration, which equally concerns you, and others of a more advanced age, that religion is, generally speaking, the surest way we can take to be happy in this world, and, through the merits and righteousness of a Redeemer, the only way to glory in another; so that, as the apostle expresses it, god­liness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come^(a)

ITS tendency to promote our present comfort and happiness, will abundantly appear from the in­fluence which it has on our external circumstances, and on the temper of our minds. As to the former of these, I might enlarge on its beneficial effects, with regard to health and reputation, estate and friendship: and as to the latter, nothing is more ob­vious than that it tends to secure the tranquillity and the pleasure of the soul, as it either suppresses or moderates, those turbulent passions which throw it into anguish and confusion, while it gives abundant exercise to those which are most sweet and delight­ful. Such is the immediate blessedness of the man who feareth the Lord, and delighteth greatly in his commandments^(b). And whosoever reflects on the evidence with which each of these particulars is attended, must acknowledge, that the ways of wis­dom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace^(c).

To complete the argument, it is to be considered, that these pleasant and peaceful paths lead up to the paradise of God: for invariable truth and good­ness has engaged, that to them who by patient con­tinuance [Page 20] in well doing, seek for glory, honour and immortality, he will render eternal life^(a).

ON the other hand, if you go on in the neglect of God and religion, it is very possible you may be un­done for this world, as thousands have been, by de­bauchery and folly: or, under some restraints of common prudence, which may secure you from that, if you do not violently over bear the voice of con­science, it will often disquiet and torment you by its remonstrances and expostulations; till in a little time death will remove you to the seats of horror, where the worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched^(b). For God has solemnly declared, that he will render indignation and wrath, tribula­tion and anguish, to every soul of man that doeth evil^(c); when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven in flaming fire, taking vengeance on those that know not God, and obey not the gos­pel^(d).

ARE not the youngest of you concerned in such declarations as these? And if you are, let con­science say, whether you are to be despised? It evidently appears, the question is this: shall you spend your days upon earth like rational creatures, in the noblest enjoyment of God, and of yourselves, till you rise to the glories and pleasures of the heavenly world? Or shall you live like idiots and like brutes, in the amusements of a vain imagination, and the indulgence of the meanest appetites, till you sink for ever under all the shame and remorse of a polluted guilty mind, and the almighty vengeance of an incensed God? And can you be so stupid as to imagine this question will bear a debate, or that any of the little interests of time and sense are to be re­garded, while these things are forgotten? Surely I [Page 21] may say, with the utmost propriety, as Moses to the children of Israel^(a), I have this day been setting before you life and death, a blessing and a curse, chuse which shall be your portion; but make the choice as those that remember, it is not a vain thing for you, because it is your life^(b).

"IT is true," may you perhaps reply in your own minds, ‘these are solid arguments to prove, that re­ligion is to be attended to, sooner or later; but, it will not appear from them, that it is peculiarly the concern of the rising generation’ I answer in one word, (as you have often heard more at large) if it is to be regarded at all, it should be regarded immediately; because all the futurity you presume upon is utterly precarious. The uncertainty of human life, and our entire dependance on that sa­cred spirit, who is perfectly free in all his opera­tions, concur to demonstrate, beyond all possibility of contradiction, the madness of delay; and the ru­in of thousands bears testimony to it. I might add, that there are many peculiar advantages of early piety, which render it vastly preferable to a late re­pentance, even supposing it were as certain, as it is dubious: but I shall not enter into the enumeration of them now, since I intend them for the subject of a distinct discourse^*. What I have already said may be sufficient to convince you, if you allow yourselves to reflect, that your own present and future happi­ness is apparently concerned in the case before us. I add,

[Page 22] II. THAT it is of great importance to the happi­ness of others, that you of the rising generation be early tinctured with a sense of religion, or, in the language of the text, be a seed who shall serve the Lord.

AND here I would shew at large,—that the happi­ness of all who converse with you may be considera­bly influenced by your character and behaviour;—that the comfort of your pious parents and mini­sters is peculiarly concerned in it;—and that the propagation of religion to them who are yet un­born, does, under God, most evidently depend upon you.

1. THE happiness of all who converse with you will be considerably influenced by your charac­ter and behaviour.

THEY who have any sense of religion themselves will be tenderly concerned for your happiness. They will rejoice to see you going on in those ways which must surely lead to it; and they will be heartily grieved to see you chusing your own mis­ery, and rejecting the counsel of God against your­selves^(a). And others of a humane and gener­ous temper, though destitute of the principles of true piety, will be solicitous for the honour, the comfort, and the usefulness of your lives.

BUT besides this pleasure or uneasiness, which will redound to such persons, in consequence of these friendly and benevolent sentiments, you ought to consider, that all who converse with you may find their happiness increased or diminished, by your regard to religion, or your neglect of it, as your behaviour to them will be influenced by it.

[Page 23] IF you be early delivered into the mould of the gospel, you will quickly learn you were not born for yourselves. The mercies of God, and the ex­ample of a Redeemer, will teach you to exert your­selves to the utmost for the service of mankind, and to do good to all as you have opportunity^(a) And in how many instances may your pious and charitable cares be effectual for the benefit of your fellow-creatures! In the series of life, how many in the depths of poverty may be relieved by your liberality! How many in perplexed and intricate circumstances may be guided aright by your pru­dent counsel! How many weeping eyes may be dried, and how many mourning hearts revived, by your tender sympathy and friendly condolence! And if there be already in your natural temper a tendency towards such expressions of humanity, how happily may it be directed and enlivened, when di­vine and evangelical motives are brought in to its assistance!

BUT farther, your christian charity will teach you to be, above all things, solicituous for the spirit­ual and eternal happiness of those about you. And who can say, how much you may promote it! How many more aged christians may be excited to shake off their indolence, and quicken their pace when they observe your ardency and zeal! And how happily might your piety tend to awaken, and re­claim those, who are going on in the paths of the destroyer: how amiable would the graces of christi­anity appear, as exemplified in you, amidst all the insnaring allurements of childhood and youth! And how affecting might it be to other young people, to hear religion recommended to them, not only by their parents and ministers, but by their brethren and companions!

[Page 24] THUS useful might you be in your earliest years, and as you were advancing in age and experience, your usefulness might be daily increasing; and if God should spare you to the decline of life, you might bring forth much nobler fruits in old age, than you could have done, if your entrance on a religious life had been deferred to that unseasonable time.

THUS may the whole period of your life be fil­led up with eminent service. And I will add, that your beneficial influence may extend far be­yond the circle of your personal converse: you may be blessings to your country, indeed to the whole world, by drawing down the favour of God upon it, in part, as a crown of your piety, and an answer to your prayers. But,

On the contrary, if you neglect religion, you will deprive the world of all those benefits, which it may otherwise expect from you. If you are natu­rally covetous, you will probably indulge that un­worthy temper, so as to with-hold relief from those to whom it is most justly due▪ or if you be of a liberal disposition, your generosity will degenerate into prodigality; or perhaps you will squander away so much of your estates in vanity and de­bauchery, as to throw yourselves out of a capaci­ty of assisting those whom you most sincerely pity, and would gladly relieve. And as to the eternal happiness of others, it is not to be imagined that you will have any regard to it while you are neg­ligent of your own.

NOR is this the worst; for, as hardly any are mere cyphers in life, it is much to be feared, that instead of blessings, you may prove mischiefs to the world. The licentiousness, to which corrupt nature will prompt you, may [...] you by unthought of conse­quences, to insure and [...]i [...]fraud, a [...] [...] to grieve and torment others. And where your behaviour is [Page 25] most friendly, it may be most pernicious. Instead of restoring and reclaiming the souls of your com­panions, you may pervert and destroy them by sinful discourses and impious examples. Thus you may draw down the vengeance of God on the places where you live, and provoke him to send some pub­lic calamity, as a punishment, for that universal de­generacy which you have abetted. So that, (to close the melancholy scene) at the bar of God, and in the seats of torment, you may meet with multi­tudes of unhappy creatures, who will cry out on you, as the fatal cause of their ruin in this world, and their condemnation in that.

BY such a variety of arguments does it appear, that the happiness of those you converse with will be considerably influenced by your temper and con­duct. And are you so utterly lost to all sentiments of honour and goodness, as to be unconcerned at such a consideration as this? Again,

2. THE comfort and happiness of your religious parents does, in a great measure, depend on your seriousness and piety.

WHAT I have just been saying on the former heads, will evidently prove the truth of this obser­vation. Your pious parents have a generous con­cern for the happiness of others, and this will en­gage them earnestly to wish, that you may be bles­sings, and not curses to the world about you. And their peculiar affection for you, must tenderly inter­est them in a case, on which your happiness, both in time and eternity, depends.

IF they see you under the influences of early pi­ety, unknown pleasure will arise in their minds: they will rejoice in it, not merely as it will be a se­curity to them of a respectful and grateful treat­ment from you; but as it will, through grace, se­cure [Page 26] to you, their dear offspring, the entertain­ments of a religious life, and the prospects of a glo­rious immortality.

THESE reflections will give them inexpressible pleasure in a variety of circumstances. Their daily converse with you will be more agreeable to them, than it could otherwise be, when they discern the lively impressions of religion upon your spirits, and perceive that you have a relish for those truths and promises of the gospel, which are their joy and song in the house of their pilgrimage^(a). It will sometimes add a sweetness to the social exercises of devotion, to think that your souls are engaged with theirs, and regaled with the same sublime and trans­porting entertainments. And when they have rea­son to apprehend that you are retired for the duties of the closet, it will chear their hearts to think, ‘Now is my child with his heavenly Father. Now has he separated himself from those vain amuse­ments, which most of the same age pursue, that he may converse with God and his own soul, and be prepared for the business and the pleasures of Hea­ven. And I hope, God is smiling upon him, and teaching him, by happy experience, that those pi­ous labours are not in vain.’

WITH such consolations will their hearts be sup­ported in all the occurrences, which providence may allot either to you, or them. If they meet with prosperity in their worldly affairs, and have a pros­pect of leaving you in plentiful circumstances, it will be a satisfaction to them to think that they shall not consign their estates to those who will meanly hoard up the income of them, or throw it away in foolish and hurtful lusts; but to persons who will consider themselves as the stewards of God, and will endeavour to use what God has given them for the [Page 27] honour of their Lord, and the good of mankind. Or, if they can give you but little, this thought will relieve them, that they commend you to the care of a guardian and a father, who is able abundantly to supply your necessities, and who has engaged, by the promises of his covenant, that those who fear him shall want no good thing^(a). They will have the pleasure to think, that, how low soever your outward condition may be, you will be rich in grace, and in the entertainments of religion now, and in the glories of the heavenly inheritance at last. When they are themselves sinking under the decays of nature, their vigour and chearfulness will be re­newed in yours: or should your parents be impair­ed by an afflictive providence, they will have the sa­tisfaction of believing, that those afflictions proceed from a divine love, and shall at length turn to your advantage. It will revive their hearts in their dy­ing moments to think, that when they are sleeping in the dust, you will stand up in their places, and support the interest of God in the world, with a fi­delity and zeal perhaps superior to theirs. Or if an afflictive stroke should take you away before them, they will not mourn over your grave, as those that have no hope^(b). Faith will teach them to mingle praises with their tears, while i [...] assures them that though dead to them, you are living with God in glory; that you are preferred to an attendance on his throne above, where they may hope shortly to meet you on the most advantageous terms.

THIS is but a faint and imperfect description of the satisfaction which your parents would find in your early piety. And it follows from hence, as a necessary consequence, that if they see you grow up in the neglect of religion, it will pierce their hearts with proportionable sorrow.

[Page 28] IT is possible that you may arrive at such a dar­ing degree of wickedness, as to treat them with ne­gligence and contempt, or perhaps to answer all their melting expostulations with insults and rage. Such ungrateful and rebellious monsters we have heard of; and would to God, that every parent in this assembly could say, that he had only heard of them! But should you preserve some sense of huma­nity and decency; nay, should you behave towards them in the most dutiful and obliging manner, yet they must still mourn over you; and even your ten­derness and complaisance to them, would sometimes come in to add a more sensible anguish to their af­fliction. It would cut them to the heart to think, that such dear, and, in other respects, amiable chil­dren, were still the enemies of God, and the heirs of destruction. When they heard the vengeance of God denounced against sinners, and read the awful threatnings of his word, they would tremble to think, that those terrible thunders were levelled against you. How little could they rejoice in that health, or plenty, which they saw you were abus­ing to your aggravated ruin! and how would they be terrified when any distemper seized you, lest it should be the messenger to bear you away to eter­nal misery! If they were themselves dying, how mournfully must they take their leave of you, in an apprehension of seeing you no more till the day of accounts, and seeing you then in ignominy and horror, at the left hand of the judge! Or if they saw you removed by an early death, to what hope­less sorrows would they be abandoned! With what unknown agonies would they adopt that pathetic la­mentation of David, Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, would to God I had died for thee! Oh Absalom my son, my son^(a)!

[Page 29] BY such a variety of considerations does it ap­pear, that the comfort and happiness of your pious parents does very much depend upon your temper and behaviour. And the argument is confirmed by the repeated testimony of the wisest of men, under the influences of the divine Spirit. He tells us again and again, that a wise son maketh a glad fa­ther^(a); that whoso loveth wisdom rejoiceth his father^(b); and that the father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice; and he that begetteth a wise child, shall have joy of him^(c). On the other hand, he tells us, that a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother^(d). And though the tenderness of her sex may make the mother peculiarly sensible of the affliction, yet it is not confined to her; for he tells us elsewhere, that a foolish son is a grief to his father, as well as bitterness to her that bare him^(e); yea, a foolish son is the calamity of his father^(f). And once more, he that begetteth a fool doth it to his sorrow; and the father of a fool has no joy^(g); for the wickedness of his son impairs his relish for the other enjoyments of life.

SUCH a multitude of passages to the same pur­poses seem intended to teach us the importance, as well as the certainty of the argument. And it is more than hinted at in those remarkable words; My son, if thy heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine^(h). As if he had said, make a serious pause, and diligently weigh the importance of that thought, that thy piety will be an inexpressible joy to me, to thy father. And then, as if that were not enough, it is immediately added, yea, my reins also shall rejoice, (shall feel unutterable pleasure [Page 30] diffusing itself through all the secret recesses of my soul), when thy lips speak right things^(a), which may manifest an heart under the influence of pru­dence, and of religion.

AND let me intreat you, my friends, to reflect for a few moments on the weight of the argument, that you may judge whether it will not bear all the stress which Solomon lays upon it. The hap­piness of your parents is in question; and can you slight that? Consider how much you owe to your parents, as they were the instruments of your be­ing, and have been, under God the principal sup­port of it. Think of the tenderness with which they watched around your cradles, and of the ma­ny kind offices which they performed for you in your helpless infancy; which parental tenderness made delightful to them, when hardly any thing else could have made them tolerable. Think how liberally they have long contributed towards the supply of your wants; and in how many instances they have denied themselves, that they might gra­tify you. Think how they have rejoiced with you in your joys, and mourned with you in your sorrows; how they have been terrified at your re­al dangers; and perhaps often disquieted with those timorous apprehensions, which fondness, rather than reason, has suggested to them. And under the im­pression of these reflections, say, whether it may not reasonably be expected, that you should have a most affectionate regard to their repose and com­fort, and think with horror of becoming their grief and torment.

I MAY add, that as the parents of some amongst you are declining under the infirmities of age, and on that account the objects of a respectful compas­sion to all, they should be so especially to you who [Page 31] are their children; for it may be these infirmities have been hastened upon them by an excess of ten­derness and concern for you. And will you add afflictions to the afflicted, and bring down with sor­row to the grave^(a) those venerable hoary heads which you have perhaps made gray before their time? Surely you must abhor the thought, or God and man must abhor you.

But I would not entertain so harsh a suspicion; I charitably hope, that you are not only impressed with this consideration, but will likewise be some­what concerned, when you hear,

3. THAT the comfort and happiness of faithful ministers will be greatly affected by the cha­racter of the rising generation.

ST. JOHN assures the elect lady, that he rejoic­ed greatly, when he found her children walking in the truth^(b); and a variety of arguments concur to prove, that no pious minister can be indifferent in the case before us.

IF we have any thing of humanity and generosi­ty in our tempers, we must be concerned for your seriousness, on account of that influence which it has on the happiness of all about you, and parti­cularly on that of your christian parents. Many of them are the ornaments and glory of our assem­blies, and the most dear and intimate of our friends; we are obliged therefore to take part with them in their sorrows and their joys, with relation to you their children, It must sensibly afflict us to see, that while their wisdom and their piety might command the reverence and the love of all that know them, enemies should arise up against them out of their own houses, and even the children of [Page 32] their bowels should prove their tormentors. Those dear children, from whom they fondly promised themselves the delight and support of their declin­ing years. And when they come and tell us the tender story, when they freely open to us their sor­rows and their fears on your account, and earnestly beg our prayers for you, that whatever they suffer, you may not be for ever undone, we are hardly able to stand it; but nature, as well as religion, teaches us to echo back their sighs and to return their tears.

THUS we are concerned that the rising genera­tion, as we sympathize with those whose happiness is apparently affected by it: but besides this you may easily apprehend, that much of the comfort [...] our lives does immediately depend upon it. And this will be peculiarly obvious with regard to those of us who are in our younger years, and are enter­ing on the work of God amongst you^*.

SHOULD God spare us to future years, we must expect to survive many of our aged friends; and when your parents are gone, whither must we look for the comfort of our remaining days, but to you their children? And must it not wound us to the heart, to see a generation of vipers rising up, in­stead of those pious friends, with whom we have taken sweet counsel together, and gone to the house of God in company^(a)? Can we easily bear to see the temples and altars of God forsaken, or to see them attended only by wretched hypocrites, who wear the form of godliness, while they are strangers and enemies to the power of it^(b)? Must we lose the pleasure of addressing you in public, as the christians, on the most comfortable [Page 33] and joyful subjects of discourse; and be obliged continually to speak to you in thunders, as those who have no right to the consolations of the gos­pel! Or must we never have the satisfaction of conversing with you in private, as our brethren in the Lord, and our companion in the way to hea­ven?

WELL might it grieve us to be thus left alone in the midst of a degenerate world; especially when we reflect, that the cause of God was sink­ing in the time of our administration, and serious religion was lost amongst us, while the cultivation of it was committed to our care. Shall we not be suspected of unfaithfulness to God, and to you, if it die in our hands? That were dreadful indeed. May the divine grace preserve us from that guilt! And I trust, my brethren, that it will preserve us; and, in dependence upon that I plainly tell you, that while God continues us in a capacity of doing it, we will honestly warn you, we will seriously ex­postulate with you, we will earnestly pray for you; and if it be all in vain, we will appeal to an omni­scient God, that your destruction is not chargeable upon us, but upon yourselves.

BUT in the mean time, it would be dreadful to reflect, that while we are thus endeavouring to deli­ver our own souls, we are in effect heaping aggra­vated damnation on yours; while every attempt is resisted by you, and so brings you under a greater load of guilt. You may indeed be insensible of the load now, but we foresee the day when you will sink under it. And here is the accent of our sor­row; in such views as these we fear that when the ministers of former generations shall appear before their judge with a train of happy souls; which have been conducted to heaven by their means, it must be our melancholy part to stand out as wit­nesses against our hearers, that we have stretched [Page 34] out our hands all the day long to a disobedient and gainsaying people^(a). Oh, how shall we be able to advance this dreadful testimony against the chil­dren of our dearest friends, against those whom we tenderly loved, and whose salvation we would have purchased with any thing, but our own! yet this is our prospect with regard to you; and we may leave it to you to judge, whether it must not sad­den our souls.

Now pardon me, my friends, if I tell you, that we may reasonably expect, that an argument of this nature should not be despised. I hope it is no breach of modesty to say, that we have not deserv­ed so ill at your hands, as that our joy or our di­stress, should be indifferent to you. In all the com­mon affairs of life we would chearfully serve you to the utmost of our power, and therefore at least reasonably expect to stand on a level with the rest of your friends in like circumstances. And our character as ministers, if we be careful to answer it, give us some peculiar claim to your regard. For you we give up many more splendid prospects in life, which, in other employments, we might pos­sibly have secured; for you we lay out our time and our strength, in study, in prayer, and in preach­ing. We bear you upon our hearts in our public ministrations, and our private retirements; (and God is witness with what sincerity). Nor would we refuse those laborious services, which, in human probability, might hasten upon us the infirmities of age, and the approach of death, if they might be the happy means of your conversion and salva­tion. And is this the reward of all our friendly care? to weaken our hands, to grieve our souls, and to behave in such a manner, that the more ten­derly [Page 35] we love you, the more deeply we must be af­flicted by you?

MANY of you treat us with a great deal of hu­manity and decency; with the appearances of af­fection and esteem. You are ready to serve us on the common offices of friendship, and would ex­press your resentment if you saw us injured, in ac­tions, or in words. We thankfully acknowledge your goodness in such instances as these; but per­mit us to ask you, why you will not be so kind and so grateful to us, as to take care of your own souls, when nothing could oblige us more than such a care, and nothing can afflict us more than the neglect of them? Let me conclude this head with those pa­thetic words of the apostle, if there be any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye your joy^(a). And let me intreat you to consider, one more,

4. THAT the propagation of religion to future generations does, under God, chiefly depend upon you.

FOR this reason the pious Israelites are repre­sented, as resolving to declare the wonderful works of God unto their children, that the generation to come might know them, even the children that should be born that they might arise, and, in their turn declare them unto their children^(b), and so the intail might be carried on to the remotest ages.

Now, my brethren, it is evident, that the propa­gation of religion to succeeding generations does, humanly speaking, depend on you and others, who, with you, are entering upon life. If you are un­der the influences of serious godliness, you will carry them along with you to the end of your [Page 36] days; and when God calls you into families of your own, it will be your desire that you and your houses may serve him^(a). Family-prayer, and family-instruction will be maintained; you will be teaching your children to know the Lord, and ex­horting them to serve him, and praying for a bles­sing on those endeavours: and who knows what a remarkable blessing might attend them? Your chil­dren, under the impressions of such an education, may be eminent for religion as you have been. They may be equally diligent in the care of their posterity, and God may favour them with equal success; and so there may be thousands of your remote descendants, who never saw you, nor per­haps heard of your name, who yet, under God, may owe their religion and their happiness to you. The prospect of it may now afford you a sensible pleasure; and it is highly probable that when they meet you in the regions of the invisible world, such an important obligation may engage them to treat you with peculiar respect and affection; as surely all other obligations will appear trifling, when com­pared with this.

ON the other hand, if you neglect religion your­selves, it cannot be thought you will be much con­cerned to transmit it to others. You would hardly be at the pains to give them good instructions; supposing you much more capable of doing it than you can expect to be: or if you do attempt it, those instructions will be likely to have little effect, when they are contradicted by the daily language of your example. Nay, it is possible you may ar­rive at such a height of wickedness, as directly to oppose practical godliness, and breed up your chil­dren in the contempt of it; which is often to be seen, even in this christian country. And what do [Page 37] you think will become of such children as these? If you have been so wicked, notwithstanding all the restraints of a serious education, what will they be, who miss of the advantages you enjoyed, and must be exposed to numberless temptations from which you were free? Shall these be a seed to serve the Lord? Shall these be accounted to him for a gene­ration? It might almost as well be expected, that a race of men should spring up in a desart, where no human creature ever appeared before them, as that true christianity should be propogated in the world by children of such an education.

AND have you, after all, so utter an indifference to the honour of that Redeemer, into whose reli­gion you were baptized, and whose name you bear, as that you could be contented, should it be lost in the world? Was it for this, that the Son of God de­scended from heaven that he might publish the gos­pel covenant, and expired on the cross that he might establish it? Was it for this that the pious labours of our ancestors have transmitted this religion to us through so many succeeding ages; and so many martyrs have sealed it by their sufferings, and their blood? Was it for this, that our sacred liberties have been so courageously asserted by the best of men, and almost miraculously defended by the hand of God? For this, that the precious intail should be cut off by us, and this invaluable treasure, the charge and the glory of so many former genera­tions, should perish in our hands? That the name of christianity should, for the future, be lost in the world; or which is altogether as bad, that it should sink into an empty name, and a lifeless circle of un­meaning forms? Yet, humanly speaking, this must be the consequence, if you, and others of the ris­ing generation, will not heartily engage in the in­terests of it.

[Page 38] SUCH a variety of arguments concur to prove the great importance of the rising generation. They are so plain and so weighty, that I cannot but think, that you, my brethren, to whom I have particularly applied them, are in your consciences convinced, that they are not to be disputed.

How that conviction should work, I have not time largely to shew you; but if it be seriously and deeply impressed on your minds, you cannot long be at a loss for proper directions, among so many pious friends, and excellent books; especially if you consult the scripture, and seek for the teachings of the blessed spirit. To these assistances I heartily recommend you, and omitting many other reflec­tions which would naturally arise, shall conclude my discourse with one which I shall immediately address to another part of my auditory.

REFLECTION. How solicitous should we be in our endeavours for the religious improvement of the rising ge­neration, since its character appears of so great importance!

WE have all our concern in the thought, but I would particularly recommend it to those of you, who are parents and masters, or have the education of youth under any other capacities; imagine not, my friends, that it is an inconsiderable charge which is lodged in your hands. Providence has intrusted to you the hopes and the fears, the joys, and the sorrows, of many hearts and of many families. Fu­ture generations will have reason to applaud or de­test your memory, as your present duty is regard­ed or neglected; and, which is infinitely more, the Father of the Spirits of all flesh will require a strict [Page 39] account of those precious souls which he commit­ted to your care.

IT is not for me, at this time, to direct you at large, as to the particulars of your duty with re­gard to them^*. In the general you will easily ap­prehend that some methods are to be taken to in­form their minds with divine knowledge, and to impress them with an affecting sense of what they know. And if you find the work attended with great difficulty, I hope it will engage you thank­fully to accept of the assistances of ministers, and other christian friends, and earnestly to implore those communications of the Spirit, which are ab­solutely necessary to make them effectual.

AND if God have any mercy in store for so sin­ful a nation as ours, we may humbly hope, that, in answer to our united supplications, he will revive his work amongst us in the midst of the years^(a); and, according to the tenor of his promises, will pour out his spirit on our seed, and his blessing on our offspring; so that they may spring up before him as the grass, and as willows by the water-cours­es; and calling themselves by the name of Jacob, and subscribing with their hands unto the Lord^(b), may be acknowledged by him as a generation of his people. AMEN.

SERMON II.
CHRIST FORMED IN THE SOUL, THE ONLY FOUNDATION OF HOPE FOR ETERNITY.

IT was the unhappy case of Agrippa, that though almost, he was only almost, persuaded to be a christian^(a); and I fear, it is now the case of many, and particularly of many young per­sons, who have enjoyed the advantages of a religi­ous education. I believe it is difficult to find any amongst them, who have not been brought under some serious impressions betimes. With regard to the internal operations of the blessed spirit, as well as external means, the morning of life is generally to them, in a peculiar sense, the day of their visita­tion; and they often seem to know it, and in some measure to improve it: but in too many instances, we find their goodness as a morning cloud, and as the early dew which soon passeth away^(b). The blossoms open fair and beautiful, and give a very [Page 41] agreeable prospect of the plentiful fruits of holi­ness in life, but too often when storms of tempta­tion and corruption arise, the goodly appearance is laid in ruins; the blossoms do as it were fall to the ground, and leave the tree blasted and naked; or at best only covered over with leaves of an exter­nal profession, which, however green and flourishing they may for the present be, will not at last secure it from being cut down, and cast into the burning. Though they for a while had escaped the pollutions of the world through lust, they are afterwards en­tangled and subdued; and the consequence is, they prove a scandal to religion, and a discouragement to others, till, in the end, they bring aggravated destruction on themselves; so that on the whole, as the apostle most justly observes, it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteous­ness, than thus, after they have known it, to turn aside from the holy commandment^(a).

THIS may be in a great measure owing to the mutability of human nature in general, and particu­larly to the livity and inconsistency of youth, in con­junction with the force of those temptations of life which continually surround and press upon them. Yet I apprehend this is not all, but that it is, in part to be charged on something defective, even in their best days, on their resting in something short of real religion, and a true saving change. Solomon had seen reason to say, there is a way that seemeth right to a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death^(b): and I believe every considerate person will be ready to own, that in order to prevent so fatal a de­lusion, and all the train of mischiefs which may fol­low upon it, great care should be taken in slating this important question; ‘What is the true and so­lid basis, on which we may securely ground our [Page 42] eternal hopes?’ It is a question of the highest im­portance, and the most universal concern, both to the aged and the young; so that I trust I need not offer any apology for complying with the request of a pious and judicious friend, who recommended this subject to our consideration, at this time and on this occasion.

IN Prosecution of this design, I have made choice of these words of the apostle, which I have now been reading, and which may, without offering any violence to them, be very fairly and naturally accommodated to the present purpose.

IT is plain, from many passages in this epistle, that the great apostle, who had planted the christian church among the Galatians, had reason to fear, that many, who were by profession its members, were not sufficiently established in their holy faith. It is probable, that he himself had an oportunity of making but a short stay among them; and, part­ly through their own negligence and prejudices, and partly through the artful attempts of false teachers in the absence of St Paul, they appear to have fallen into a set of notions, and a conduct, which tended not only to impair the glory, but to subvert the very foundation, of the gospel, and with it the foundation of their own eternal hopes. Of this the apostle does, in a very awful manner, admonish them. He tells them, in the very beginning of his epistle, that he marvelled that they were so soon re­moved from him that called them, (and from the prin­ciples he had taught them) into another gospel^(a). And afterwards he useth these very free and empha­tical words: O foolish Galatians, who hath be­witched, or enchanted you, that you should not obey the truth? Are you so foolish? having begun in the spirit (having professed to embrace the gos­pel, [Page 43] and shewn the appearances of some common zeal for it), can you now hope to be made perfect by the flesh, or by the ritual and carnal observances of the Mosaic institution? Is it thus that you disgrace all you have done, and all you have borne for Christ? Have you then suffered so many things in vain^(a)? On the whole, he tells them, he was ready to appre­hend that all the agreeable hopes, he had at once en­tertained concerning them, would be buried in ever­lasting disappointment, and that it would appear, he had bestowed upon them labour in vain^(b). Thus did he stand in doubt of them^(c); and that doubt pierced his heart with the most tender con­cern, and brought upon him, as it were a second time, those pangs of soul which he had felt on their account, when he saw them in all the igno­rance and wickedness of their gentile state. He was hardly more solicitous that they might be turn­ed from dumb idols to the living God, than he was now, that they might give convincing eviden­ces that Christ was formed in them, i. e. that they had cordially received and digested the gospel, and that their hearts were delivered into the mould of it^(d); which it did not appear they were, while they were thus making void the grace of God, and the righteousness of faith, by adhering to the fool­ish and pernicious doctrine of the necessity of seek­ing their justification, in part at least, by the obser­vation of the Mosaic law.

This seems to be the most natural sense of the words of the text, where such a latitude of expres­sion is used, as the apostle elsewhere seems to study, on purpose to render his writings universally edify­ing and useful to them, whose particular circum­stances in life are widely different from those of the persons to whom they were originally addressed. [Page 44] As to the introductory words, my little children, we cannot imagine they refer to the age of those to whom the apostle wrote. The evident design of them is, to express that kind of parental ten­derness which he entertained for them, like that which a mother hath for an infant with which she travails in birth. My little children, of whom I travail in birth again, till Christ be formed in you.

It would be easy to multiply observations from the words. I might especially take occasion to shew,—that it is possible, those that once seemed very hopeful, and still maintain an external professi­on, may appear, after all, in such dangerous cir­cumstances, that judicious ministers, and other Christian friends, may be thrown into a great deal of perplexity and agony on their account;—and that the great thing necessary to establish their safe­ty, and the comfort of those concerned for them, is, that the Lord Jesus Christ be formed in them.

THAT I may more particularly illustrate and im­prove the text, and take in what is most important in these remarks, I will

• I. CONSIDER several things, on which men are ready to build a false confidence, which will bring them into danger, and their judicious friends into perplexity upon their account.
• II. I WILL endeavour to shew you, what is the only solid foundation of their own hopes, and the joys of others with regard to them; which is here expressed by Christ formed in them. And then,
• III. I SHALL conclude with some more particu­lar improvement, in proper inferences from the whole

THESE are plainly matters of universal impor­tance; but as I am now peculiarly addressing [...] [Page 45] to young persons, I shall endeavour to fix on those thoughts which may be most remarkable suitable to them: for I am much more concerned that my dis­course may be useful, than that it may be critically regular and exact. I hope there are many amongst you, who are experimentally acquainted with the vitals of christianity, and have received from above an incorruptible seed^(a). There are others, to whom I must say with the apostle to these Galatians, I stand in doubt of you^(b); and to such, I hope, I can apply myself in the language of the text, My little children, of whom I travail in birth again, till Christ be formed in you. Pardon me, if in this instance I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy^(c). I would endeavour, with the sincerest and ten­derest affection, and with such freedom as the im­portance of the case requires, to guard you against those sandy foundations, which will [...]ury you and your hopes deep in eternal ruins; and to direct you to the rock of ages, on which they who build shall never be ashamed.

I THEREFORE intreat your serious attention, and would humbly ask, both for myself and you, the teachings of that blessed Spirit, whose peculiar office it is, in the most efficacious manner, to shew us our danger and our remedy; to aid the labouring minds of ministers, and to cause them to see with satisfaction the travail of their s [...]ls^(d), while he gives to their hearers a new birth and immortal life, by forming Christ in them.

I. I AM to caution you against several things on which young persons are peculiarly prone to build a false and precarious confidence.

AND here let me particularly intreat you, as you love your souls, and value your eternal hopes,—that [Page 46] you trust not to the privileges of your birth,—or the rectitude of your speculations in matters of religion,—or the purity and frequency of your forms of worship,—or the warmth of your passions,—or the morality of your conduct; for none of these apart, nor even all of them united, can, according to the tenor of the gospel, be sufficient for your security and happiness.

1. TRUST not to the privileges of your birth and education, as the foundation of your eternal hopes.

YOU are, many of you, the seed of God's, serv­ants, perhaps for several succeeding generations You may be ready to plead, that you were born in his house, that you were early devoted to him in baptism, and have been brought up in the most regular and conscientious manner: you have been surrounded with holy instructions and correspondent examples from your infancy; and repeated servent prayers, both in the family and in secret, have been sent up to heaven upon your account. These are indeed signal advantages, and you may justly rejoice in them; for in these respects you are the children of the kingdom: but rejoice with trembling, [...] our Lord hath told us, that it is more than a possi­ble case, that the children of the kingdom may be cast out, and have their portion in [...] ^(a). The peculiar regard shewn to the seed of Abraham may perhaps be abused by [...] as an encouragement to those presumptuous [...] But remember, that Ishmael was the son of Abra­ham, and Esau of Isaac; and yet neither the [...] one nor the other, inherited the blessing of his father. Remember that beautiful, but dreadful [...] [Page 47] which represents a wretched creature in Hell, that could cry, Father Abraham, and yet in vain added, have mercy upon me, and send me but a drop of water to cool my tongue^(a). Once more, remem­ber those emphatical words of the Babtist, so ex­pressly levelled against this arrogant presumption: think not (says he) to say within yourselves, we have Abraham for our father: for I say unto you, that God is able of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham^(b): as if he should have said, ‘The promises made to those who are the children of Abraham, respect not merely them who are li­neally descended from him, but those who are the heirs of his piety and his faith; for if God were to turn these stones into men, and to form them by his grace to a holy character and temper, such, though descended from no human parents at all, would, in the sense of the promise, be children of Abraham.’ And it were more reasonable to ex­pect such a transmutation, than that God should acknowledge a generation of Vipers as his people, because they were derived from holy ancestors. On the contrary, God directly assures us, that if the son of the most religious father forsake the way of vir­tue and holiness, and prove as the degenerate plant of a strange vine^(c), in his trespass that he hath [...] and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die^(d) ▪ And surely herein the ways of the Lord are apparently equal; for it is most evi­dence, that a long descent from God's people is a re­proach and condemnation, rather than an honour, to those who abandon that good old way in which their ancestors have trod, and as it were, cut off that [...] piety which has been the care and the glo­ry of [...] generations.

[Page 48] 2. TRUST not to the regularity of your senti­ments, in matters of religion, as the foundation of your eternal hopes.

So various are the workings of men's hearts, and the devices of Satan, that, if I mistake not, there are some that place their considence in the strictness, and others in the latitude, of their religious opin­ions, but the one, and the other, will appear equal­ly vain, when considered in the view now before us.

Some may possibly persuade themselves, that their condition is secure, because their sentiments are or­thodox. They live perhaps in the midst of the un­believing and profane, and see daily contempt and derision thrown upon the blessed gospel, or its most glorious peculiarities; but through the influence of a good education, or from some other principle short of true piety, they may nevertheless not only hold fast the faith once delivered to the saints, but even contend earnestly for it^(a): nay, they are, perhaps, learned in the controversies of the times; and can indeed pronounce concerning them in a very rational and accurate manner.

IF this, my friends, be the case with any of you, I congratulate you on the happiness of a well-in-formed judgement, but must caution you against mistaking it for a sanctified heart. The mystery of faith, as the apostle himself assures us, is to be held with a good conscience^(b): and in vain do you profess to retain the one, while you make shipwreck of the other. As precious a treasure as the know­ledge of the truth is, if we go no farther than mere speculation, it will be to you ‘but as a talent of gold to a man sinking in the sea, which only serves to plunge him so much the deeper in ruin^*.’

[Page 49] THERE are others who err in the contrary ex­treme. Orthodox notions are their banter, rather than their confidence. They pride themselves in having broke the shackles in which others are con­fined, and in seeing through the mist in which multi­tudes have been perplexed. They are sensible, that many things which divide the world are merely controversies about words; and are not much con­cerned about others in which there is a real differ­ence, because they are well aware, that the funda­mentals of religion lie in a very little room. They are confident of the innocency of error, and the safe­ty of an honest mind under those mistakes which have been branded by the severest names. A wick­ed life is, in their esteem, the only dangerous here­sy; and morality the only thing that is worth con­tending about; charmed with their own wisdom and happiness in this freedom of thought, they look down with pity on persons under the influence of a contracted education and narrow sentiments, and possibly mingle their pity with a great deal of scorn, not to say indignation. But they are indeed them­selves the objects of much juster pity, if, whilst they glory in their freedom, they are the servants of corruption^(a). It is certain, that the most gener­ous speculations will no more save men of unregen­erate hearts, and unholy lives, than the most rigid and severe set of notions. For notions and specu­lations are in their nature so far short of real good­ness, that if there be nothing more than these it, matters but little what they are. Yet one cannot forbear observing a peculiar and most absurd incon­sistency in the conduct of those, who think so high­ly of themselves, because they are possessed of this one speculation, that speculation in general is a trifle, and morality is all; as if the whole of morality con­sisted [Page 50] in bearing this testimony in its favour. I wish such a character were not almost as common, as it is for men to be bigots in defence of catholicism, and uncharitable in pleading the cause of charity. If this be the case with any of you, out of your own mouth must you be condemned^(a); and we may justly apply to you, in the midst of your self applauses, those awful words of our Lord; If ye were, in this respect, blind, ye would comparatively have no sin; whereas now you have no cloak, or excuse, for your sin^(b).

3. TRUST not in the external forms of devotion, as the foundation of your great hopes for eternity.

YOU are, it may be, joined to a society, which not only wears the christian name, but separates itself from many other professors, under the appre­hension, at least, of a more pure and scriptural wor­ship. You, perhaps, so much approve and esteem this worship, as to be diligent and constant in atten­ding on the public exercises of it, not only in its stated returns, but on occasional opportunities. You fill your places here from time to time, not merely in obedience to the commands of your parents and governors, but by your own voluntary choice. And, it may be, to these you add the forms of family-de­votion morning and evening, and, possibly, a few moments of daily retirement for reading and prayer. What can such religious persons have to fear? Nay, rather, my brethren, what can you have to hope, if, while you draw near to God with your mouths and your lips, you remove your hearts far from him^(c)? If while you come before him, as his people come, [Page 51] and present yourselves in the posture of humble wor­shippers, your heart be going after your covetous­ness^(a)? God hath for ever confounded such vain presumption, by declaring, that the prayer of the wicked is an abomination to him^(b); and that his shall certainly be so, that turns away his ear from hearing the law^(c), i. e. that refuses obedience to it. The servant that knew his Lord's will, and did it not, became justly liable to be beaten with many stripes^(d); and it is not to be wondered, if, in this sense, judgment begin at the house of God^(e), and seize first on those who affront and profane his or­dinances, by making them to supersede the very things which they were originally appointed on pur­pose to promote.

4. TRUST not to the warmth of your passions in matters of religion, as the foundation of your most important hopes.

SOME of you, to whom I now speak, have per­haps experienced very bitter agonies of conscience. You have been roused from the sleep of carnal secu­rity, as by an earthquake, which has shook the ve­ry centre of your soul; the flames of hell have seemed, as it were, to flash in your faces; and all these mingled horrors have compelled you to cry out, ‘Woe is me, for I am undone! oh, what shall I do to be saved^(f)?’ And yet to allude the story of Elijah, the Lord hath not been in the earth­quake, or in the fire^(g). Consider to what pur­pose the inquiry after salvation hath been made, and with what resolution it hath been pursued; other­wise you may be fatally deceived. The murderers [Page 52] of Stephen were cut to the heart by his preaching^(a); and we are sure that, if the most deep and ter­rifying convictions could have secured a man's salva­tion, the traitor Judas would have been safe, who undoubtedly [...]elt the most violent convulsions of soul, before he proceeded to that dreadful extre­mity, which sealed him up under everlasting des­pair.

BUT you may have been impressed with the sweet­er and the nobler passions; you have not only trem­bled at the thunder of the law, but rejoiced in the message of gospel-grace: the news of a Redeemer has been welcome to your souls, and the feet of those messengers beautiful, that have come to pub­lish peace in his name^(b). You have, perhaps, been melted into tears of pleasure and tenderness, when you have heard the representation of his dying love; [...]nd when the precious promises, established by it, [...] been un [...]olded, and the prospects of eternal glory displayed, your minds have been elevated and transported; so that you have hung, almost with a trembling eagerness, on the lips of the speaker.—I readily acknowledge, that such as these are frequent­ly the workings of the blessed Spirit of God, upon the souls of his chosen people; and when found in a due connection with the great effects they are de­signed to produce, are highly to be esteemed and rejoiced in. But remember, I entreat you, that eve­ry tear of tenderness, and every sally of joy, doth not arise from so divine a spring. You might weep at a mournful scene in a well-wrought tragedy, as you have done at the the story of a Redeemer's sufferings; you might find yourselves transported with a [...]ine poetical description on a Pagan Elysium, or a Mahometan Paradise, just as you have been [...] the views of a Heavenly Canaan, which gos­pel▪ [Page 53] ordinances have presented. Mere self love might be the foundation of such a joy in the tidings of pardon and happiness, without the least degree of renewing and sanctifying grace; as it probably was in those hearers, represented by the stony ground, who immediately received the word with joy, but had no root, and so endured but for a while^(a).

BUT, perhaps, you will say, you are confident it is not merely self-love in you, for you have of­ten found your mind impressed with a grateful sense of the divine Goodness; so that, when you own it before God in prayer, or converse with his saints on the copious and delightful subject, your souls flow forth in love to your great benefactor, and you look up to him in the most thankful acknowledgements of his favours.—If it be a gratitude, that capti­vates the soul into a willing obedience, and engages you to yield yourselves living sacrifices to God, then is Christ formed in your souls, and you are not the persons to whom I would give the alarm: on the contrary, I would rather confirm your hopes, and rejoice with you in them.—But if your gratitude does not rise to this; if it rest only in some tender emotion of mind, or some transient ex­ternal expression of that emotion, I must faithfully tell you, that I fear it is only a nobler degree of that natural instinct which causeth the ox to know his owner, and the ass his master's crib^(b). To find your spirit in this manner does indeed plainly prove that the day of your visitation is not entirely past; it proves you have not sinned yourselves into utter insensibility of soul; nay, it may possibly at length, through the communications of sanctifying grace, lead you on to real religion, and to eminent attainments in it: but at present it falls far short. [Page 54] I have often told you, (and one can hardly repeat it too often, or insist too earnestly upon it,) that there is a very wide difference between a good state, and a good frame; and that religion is not seated either in the understanding, or in the passions, but principally in the will; which, in this disjointed state of human nature, is far from being always in a due harmony with either. So that, on the whole, those illuminations, or those affections, on which you are apt to lay so great a stress, are, perhaps, at best, but the preparatory workings of the Spirit upon your minds, which if they are improved aright, may leave you more hard, and more mise­rable than they found you.

5. TRUST not to the morality of your beha­viour, as the foundation of your eternal hopes.

MORALITY is certainly a very excellent thing, and it were scandalous indeed for any professing christian to pour contempt upon it. Wherever this is wanting, pretences to faith and christian ex­perience are not only vain, but insolent and detesta­ble. He that commi [...]eth sin, is of the devil; and only he that doth righteousness is righteous^(a): nor hath the grace of God ever savingly appeared to that man, through whatever uncommon scenes of thought he may have passed, who is not effectu­ally taught by it to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously and godly^(b). But it will by no means follow from thence, that wherever there is a sober and virtuous conduct, such a soul is passed from death to life. If the whole of the gospel be wrapt up in the rules of mo­rality, then is Christ dead in vain; or, at least, it is [Page 55] in vain that the notices of his death are published to us. Beware, I entreat you, of so pernicious an error. I think myself obliged more earnestly to caution you against it, because, while the devil is attempting, on the one hand, to engage some, under the specious pretences of an evangelical spirit, to turn the grace of God into wantonness^(a), he seems to be insnaring others, by extolling the virtue which he hates, in order to lead them into a neglect of Christ, and his righteousness, and all the pecu­liarities of the gospel-scheme of salvation; so that it is difficult on the whole to say, which of these devices is most destructive to the souls of men.

FROM my heart I rejoice to think, there are so many amongst you, my young friends, whose cha­racter in life is fair and unblemished. You escape the grosser pollutions of the world; you abhor bru­tal intemperance; you scorn the mean artifices of deceit, and renounce the hidden things of dishones­ty^(b); you honour your parents and subordinate governors; you treat the ministers of Christ with respect and esteem; you are affable and courteous in your behaviour to all: and, on this account, we behold you and love you; we hope, and conclude, you are not far from the kingdom of heaven^(c). But, alas! if things rest here, you will never enter into it. All these things had the young man in the gospel observed from his youth^(d); and many of you have seen, in a very large and beautiful repre­sentation, how lovely a youth was then perishing in sin^*. He lacked one thing; and the lack of that was the ruin of his soul, as it will be of yours, if you are destitute of it.

[Page 56] I KNOW that they are especially in danger of be­ing deceived here, who converse frequently with persons of an abandoned character; or who are themselves reformed from some gross irregularities to which they were once addicted. Comparing themselves with others, or with themselves in a more licentious and corrupt state, they pronounce a favourable sentence, and conclude they are safe and happy: but let me intreat you, my friends, that you would rather compare your hearts and lives with that perfect law of God which cannot be re­pealed; weigh yourselves in that balance, and see whether you are not found wanting there. Review even the upright conduct of these days of your re­formation, and then say whether there be such a re­dundancy of merit in them, as will not only answer present demands, but atone for your past offences too. You will soon be confounded on such a re­view. You will soon acknowledge on an impartial examination, that the bed is shorter than a man can stretch himself upon, and the covering narrow­er than he can wrap himself in^(a); that neither you, nor any living, can be justified by the works of the law^(b).

I WILL conclude this head with observing, that the instance of the blessed apostle St. Paul serves well to illustrate and confirm our discourse, in each of the particulars I have now mentioned—Had the privileges of birth and education been a sufficient security, Paul had been secure before his conver­sion to christianity; for he was circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, (which had not, like the rest, revolted from the house of David); and by his mother's side, as well as his father's, a Hebrew of the He­brews^(c).—If the exactest regularity in religious [Page 57] notions, or the strictest formality in the externals of worship, could have secured a man, Paul had been secure; for he was, [...] touching the law, a Pharisee; he lived according to the rigour of that sect, and, both with respect to doctrines and cere­monies was exceedingly zealous of the traditions of the fathers^(a).—If a transport of passion in the cause of God could have secured a man, Paul had been secure; for, concerning zeal, or with regard that, he persecuted the church, and wasted it be­yond measure^(b).—And, lastly; if morality of behaviour could have done it, Paul had been secure; for, touching the righteousness which is by the law, he was blameless^(c). In these things he was once so weak, and so wretched, as to place a great deal of confidence; but when he was illumi­nated, and called by divine grace, he assures us, that what things were gain unto him before, those he counted loss for Christ, i. e. he most entirely re­nounced all dependence upon them. Yea doubtless, says he, and I count all things but loss, for the ex­cellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. Which naturally leads me to the second ge­neral, where

II. I AM to consider, what will be a solid foun­dation for hope and joy when all these precarious dependencies fail.

THIS is, with the utmost propriety, expressed in the text, by Christ formed in the soul; which is exactly parrallel to that phrase in Colossians, Christ in you, the hope of glory^(d), which is there men­tioned as an epitome of the gospel, the riches of the glory of the mystery preached among the Gen­tiles. When Paul could see that the Galatians [Page 58] were brought to this, the pangs of his labouring mind would be ended, and joy and confidence would succeed; which is plainly intimated in the words of the text. And when you, my dear charge, are brought to it, parents and ministers may rejoice over you, and you will have an everlasting spring of hope and joy, a solid foundation on which to build for eternity.

PERMIT me, therefore, a little more particular­ly to explain it to you; and let me intreat you to turn your thoughts inward, that you may judge whether you have been experimentally acquainted with the temper and change which I shall now de­scribe, as signified by this remarkable expression in the text, Christ formed in you.

Now, I think, it implies these three things:—That some apprehensions of Christ have taken hold of the heart; that the man is brought to an ex­plicit choice of him, and deliberately enters into covenant with him;—and that, in consequence of both these, something of the temper and spirit of Christ is, by divine grace wrought in his soul. I will touch on each of these; but my time will not allow me to manage them in so copious and parti­cular a manner as they well deserve.

1. To have Christ formed in the soul supposes, that some serious apprehensions of Christ have taken hold of the heart.

IT evidently implies, that the external revelation of him hath not only been admitted as a speculative truth, but attended to as a matter of the highest concern. Previous to the forming of Christ in the so [...]l, there must be a conviction, that we are natu­rally without Christ, and that, in consequence of this, we are in a most unhappy condition. And this conviction must strike deep upon the heart; for [Page 59] till the evil of sin be felt, what can make the news of a Saviour welcome? since, as he himself has de­clared, the whole need not a physician, but they that are sick^(a). The man in whose heart Christ is formed, has seen himself condemned by God's righteous law; has seen himself equally unable to answer its demands, or to bear up under the exe­cution of its penalties. And feeling this to be no light matter, but the very life of his own soul, he has then been engaged with the greatest serious­ness and earnestness, to cry out, Woe is me, for I am undone^(b)! Oh what shall I do to be saved^(c)? I before told you, there may be these convictions and awakenings, where Christ is never formed in the soul; and I now add, that the degree of them may be various, according to the various tempers and circumstances of different persons: but it is most evident, that something of this kind must make way for the Redeemer's entrance, who comes to seek and to save that which was lost^(d); to bind up the broken-hearted^(e); and to give rest to the weary and heavy-laden^(f). And I the rather insist on this; because I am fully persuaded, that slight thoughts of sin, and of the misery of our natural estate by it, have been the principal cause of all the infidelity of the present age, and are daily ru­ining a multitude of souls.

2. THE formation of Christ in the soul doth farther imply an explicit choice of him, and a deliberate entering into covenant with him.

WHEN such a soul hears of a Redeemer, and of the way of salvation by him, exhibited in scripture, it cordially approves the scheme, as entirely worthy [Page 60] of its divine Author; and though corrupt nature raises up a thousand proud thoughts, in a vain and ungrateful rebellion against it, yet they are, by Al­mighty Grace, subdued and brought into captivi­ty^(a). The man really sees such a suitable­ness, and such an amiableness, in the blessed Je­sus, under the character in which the gospel reveals him, that he judges him to be the pearl of great price; and as God has laid him as the foundation-stone, he is, in that view, inconceivably precious to him^(b). Far from contenting himself with ap­plauding this plan, as regularly beautiful, and mag­nificent in general, the true believer is solicitous, that he may have his own share in this edifice of mercy; and that, coming to Christ as a living stone, he may himself be one of those, who shall, on him, be built up for an habitation of God through the Spirit^(c). When he considers the Lord Jesus re­presented as standing at the door and knocking^(d), it is with pleasure that he hears his voice, and opens to him, and, as Zaccheus did, receives him joyful­ly^(e). He regards him as a nail fastened in a sure place^(f); on which he can joyfully fix all his eter­nal hopes, infinitely important as he sees them to be. And while he thus anchors his soul on the righte­ousness, the atonement, and the intercession of a Re­deemer, he humbly bows to his authority, as his Lord and his God^(g). It is his desire to seat him on the throne in his heart, and as it were to put into his hand the sceptre and the sword, that all the powers of nature may be governed, and all the corruptions of it destroyed by him. In a word, as he knows that Christ was given for a covenant to the people^(h), he deliberately sets his seal to that co­venant, [Page 61] thereby devoting himself to Christ, and, through him, to the father. Such are his views, his purposes, and his engagements; and by divine grace he is enabled to be faithful to them. Which leads me to add,

3. WHEN Christ is formed in any soul, something of the temper and character of the blessed Je­sus is, by divine grace, wrought there.

I MIGHT with ease multiply scriptures in proof of the absolute necessity of this; but it is so obvious, that you must yourselves know, how expressly it is required. You know, how plainly St. Paul has [...]old us, that if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his^(a): and where the spirit resides Christ dwells in the heart^(b). The same mind, or temper, is in such an one, as was also in Christ Jesus^(c); and as he professeth to abide in him, it is his care so to walk, as Christ also walk­ed^(d). On which account the true christian is said to have put on Christ^(e), an allusion to the Hebrew phrase, of being clothed with any temper o [...] affection, that greatly prevails or governs in the soul^*.

IT is a very pleasing, as well as useful employ­ment, to trace the [...] of the temper and conduct of Christ in his people. Our Lord is in a peculiar sense the son of God; but his people [...], through him, taken into the same relation, for they have not received the spirit of bondage again unto fear, though perhaps they were once subjected [Page 62] to it, but they have received the spirit of adop­tion^(a); and because they are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his son into their hearts; crying, Abba, father^(b). By this spirit a filial temper is wrought in their own souls, by which their obedi­ence to their heavenly father is so animated, as to be most honourable and grateful to him, as well as most easy and delightful to themselves. Under the influences of this spirit, the Christian desires it may be his character now, as he trusts it will be his hap­piness at last, to follow the Lamb whithersoever he goeth^(c); to follow that Jesus, who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners^(d). He is indeed deeply sensible, that it is impossible for him, as the Lord did, to fulfil all righteousness^(e); and therefore, when he hath done all, he calls him­self an unprofitable servant^(f). Yet he seeth so much of the eternal beauties of holiness, so much lustre and glory in the image of God, as drawn on the soul of man, that it is the great concern of his heart, and labour of his life to pursue it. Nor would he only abstain from grosser enormities, and practise those virtues which are most honourable amongst men, and attended with the greatest secular advantage; but he would, in every respect, main­tain a conscience void of offence^(g), and perfect holiness in the fear of God^(h). He hath so affec­tionate a sense of the riches of the divine grace, displayed through a Redeemer, in adopting so un­worthy a creature as himself to the dignity and privilege of a son of God, that he often cries out, in raptures of holy gratitude and joy, What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits towards me⁽ⁱ⁾? Inspired with this noble principle, he searches [Page 63] his father's will impartially; and when he hath dis­covered it, he obeyeth it cheerfully, and it is his meat and his drink to perform it^(a). He loves the Lord his God above all, and loves his fellow creatures for his sake as well as their own, and en­tertains the highest veneration and affection for those who most heartily resemble his father and their father, his God and their God. It is his prayer and his endeavour, that he may go about do­ing good^(b), and be useful to all as he hath oppor­tunity^(c); that he pass through the world with a holy moderation and superiority of soul, to the things which are seen, and are temporal^(d); thank­fully owing every mercy as proceeding from God's paternal love and care, and serenely submitting to every affliction, as the cup which his father puts in­to his hand^(e). In a word, he desires, that in all the varieties of life he may still be intent on the views of an everlasting inheritance; humbly look­ing and longing for that blessed hope^(f), yet wil­ling patiently to wait his father's time: having this constant expectation, and reviving assurance, that whether he liveth, he shall live unto the Lord, or whether he dieth, he shall die unto the Lord; so that whether he live or die, he shall be the Lord's^(g).

THIS is the christian;—this is the man in whom Christ is formed; or, rather, these are some faint lineaments of his character: and I will venture to say, that he who cannot discern something in it, even as thus imperfectly described, which is vastly superior to that morality and decency of behaviour, which arises merely from prudential views, or from the sweetness and gentleness of a man's natural temper, is sunk below the boasted religion of na­ture, and must take refug [...] [...] [...]he wretched princi­ples [Page 64] of Atheism, if he would pretend to form any thing of a consistent scheme. But now,

III. I must conclude with hinting at some re­flections and inferences, which my time will not al­low me to handle at large.

1. How important is it, that ministers should lead young persons into such views as these!

OUR great and important business in life is to promote the eternal happiness of our hearers, and to lay a solid foundation of hope and joy in their souls. We have seen now what it is, and other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ^(a). Here then let all our labours centre. It is the good old way, in which our fa­thers in the ministry went, and in which they pros­pered. Let us follow their steps, and exert our most vigorous efforts here. Modern refinements may amuse us in our closets, but they will never feed the souls of our hearers, nor spread the tri­umphs of a gospel, which was the power of God to the salvation of thousands, before they were ever dreamt of. I hope, God is my witness, that I am heartily concerned for the interest of virtue, (if by that be meant the advancement of practical re­ligion); but I never expected to see it promoted by the most philosophical speculations concerning its nature, or the finest harrangues of it's innate beauties, when the names and peculiar doctrines of Christ are thrown off, as unfashionable incumbranc­es of a discourse. Experienced christians, who have tasted the bread of life, will not contentedly be put off with such chaff: and if we imagine that the younger part of our auditors may be trained [Page 65] up to a relish for it, we may, perhaps, succeed in the attempt: but I much fear, that success will be the calamity of the church, and the destruction of souls^*

2. WE may learn from hence, what are the most valuable proofs of parental affection.

CERTAINLY there is no reason to esteem, as such that fond indulgence which suffers ill habits to grow up in the young mind, and fears it's present disturbance more than its future ruin: no, nor yet the more prudent care of providing plentiful and agreeable accommodations, for the subsistance and delight of your infant offspring, as they advance to maturity and settlement in life. These things indeed are not to be neglected; but wretched are the children, and I will add, the parents too, where this is the principle labour. Would you express a wise and religious tenderness, for which your chil­dren shall have reason to thank you in their dying moments, and to meet you with joy in the inter­views of the eternal world? do your utmost that Christ be formed in their souls; and let them plain­ly see, that you even travail in birth again, till this happy work be accomplished. But this leads me to add,

3. WHAT need is there of the work of the di­vine Spirit on the heart, in order to the lay­ing this great foundation?

THE language of the text, which speaks of Christ formed in us, naturally leads our thoughts [Page 66] to some agent, by whom the work is done; and when you consider what kind of a work it is, I ap­peal to your own consciences, whether it is to be thought merely a human production? Were it on­ly a name, a ceremony, a speculation, or a passion, it would not be worth a moment's dispute, whe­ther you or we should have the glory of it. But as it is nothing less than the transformation of a corrupt and degenerate creature into the holy image of the son of God, it were impiety for ei­ther to arrogate it to ourselves.

LET us therefore, on the whole, learn our duty and our wisdom. Let the matter be brought to a serious and immediate review, and let us judge our­selves by the character described, as those that ex­pect very shortly to be judged of the Lord.—If, on the examination, any of you have reason to conclude that you are strangers to it, remember that the invinceable battery of the word of God demolishes all the towering hopes you may have raised on any other foundation. Let conscience then say, whether any amusement, or any business in life, be so important, as to be attended to, even for one single day, in neglect of this great concern, on which all the happiness of an immortal soul is suspended. If nothing be indeed found of great­er moment, apply yourselves seriously to this, and omit no proper and rational method of securing it. Consider the ways by which Christ uses to en­ter into a soul, and wait upon him in those ways. Reflect seriously on your present condition; con­stantly attend the instructions of his word, and the other solemnities of his worship; and chuse to converse intimately with those, in whom you have reason to think he is already formed. But in all remember, that the success depends upon a divine co­operation, and therefore go frequently into the pre­sence of God by prayer; go into it this day, or if [Page 67] possible this hour, and importunately intreat the regenerating and sanctifying influences of his spi­rit, which when you earnestly desire them, the gos­pel gives you such ample encouragement to ex­pect.—But if you have reason to hope, that you have already received them, learn to what the praise should be ascribed; and let it animate you to pray, that through farther communications from the throne of grace, you may be made continually more and more like to your Redeemer, till you are prepared for that world, where you shall shine forth in his complete resemblance, and shall find it your complete and eternal felicity. AMEN.

SERMON III.
A DISSUASIVE FROM KEEPING BAD COM­PANY.

IF we have any regard to the judgment of the wisest of men, illuminated and directed by the influences of the divine spirit, we must certainly own, that ill company is a very dangerous snare, and that young persons should be frequently and earnestly cautioned against it. The excellent col­lection, [...] and religious precepts, contained in this book of Proverbs, was especially intended to give subtilty or prudence to the simple, and to the young man knowledge and discretion^(a). And as the sacred author well knew, that he should plead the cause of wisdom and piety in vain, while the voice of dissolute companions was heard, and their conversation pursued, he begins his addresses to youth with repeated cautions on this head: My son, says he, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not^(b). [Page 69] As he proceeds in his discourse, the address grows more lively and earnest; and I am sure every atten­tive hearer will soon discover a peculiar ener­gy in the words of the text. This faithful and compassionate counsellor doth not content himself with dissuading his young reader from joining with notorious offenders in their crimes, but even from going in the way with them, or with any other evil men; nay, from entering upon it, or even approach­ing it, so much as to pass by it, if there were not a necessity of doing it. Enter not into the paths of sinners, and go not in the way of evil men: avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. As if he should have said, ‘shun the very place where such wretches assemble, as you would if it were infected with the most malignant and dangerous disease: and if you have unwarily taken any steps towards it, stop short, and direct your course another way.’

SUCH lessons did Solomon teach; and such had he himself learnt from David his father. That pi­ous prince, in the very entrance on the book of Psalms describes the good man as one that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standing in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful^(a). and he elsewhere speaks of the citi­zen of Zion, as one in whose eyes a vile person, far from being chosen as an intimate companion, is con­temned, while he honours them that fear the Lord^(b). Thus he delineates the holy and happy man; and he had a pleasing consciousness that this cha­racter was his own: he therefore appeals to God as a witness to it, that he had not himself sat with vain persons, and was determined that he would not go in with dissemblers; nay, that he was so far from seeking and delighting in their company, that he hat­ed [Page 70] the congregation of evil-doers, and would not sit with the wicked^(a): he resolutely drove them away from him, as one who knew their society would be extremently injurious to the purpose he had formed of devoting himself to a religious course: depart from me, ye evil-doers; for I will keep the commandments of my God^(b).

THE sacred writers of the new testament recom­mend to us, that we should have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness^(c); that we should not be unequally yoked in any kind of intimate friendship with unbelievers^(d); and that if any do not obey the word, we should note such an one, and have no company with him, that he may be asham­ed^(e).

CONSIDERING such passages of scripture, as well as the reason of the thing, I think it proper at this time to pursue this subject at large. I well know, that I may succeed in this particular address and yet leave you strangers to a saving change, and far from the kingdom of God; but if I cannot prevail with you to refrain from, and discard the company of sinners, I fear other admonitions will turn to very little account. In the further prosecution of the subject I will,

• I. BRIEFLY tell you, what I intend by that bad company which I would caution you against, and how far I would urge you to avoid it.
• II. OFFER some considerations to deter you from it; and then,
• III. CONCLUDE with a few obvious inferences.

I. I AM briefly to shew you, what I would now caution you against.

[Page 71] AND here surely I need not be large in telling you what I mean by bad company. It is, in gene­ral, ‘the conversation of those, who are apparent­ly destitute of the fear of God;’ and so it takes in, not only persons of the most dissolute and aban­doned characters, but those vain and worthless crea­tures who manifest a neglect of religion, though free from gross and scandalous immoralities. So that what I have to say will be applicable to all sin­ful companions whatever; but the more notorious their vices are, the more evident will be the force of each of those arguments, by which I shall now en­deavour to fortify you against their society.

NEITHER shall I use many words in telling you how far you are to avoid such company; for to be sure you cannot imagine that I am endeavouring to dissuade you from a necessary commerce with them in the common affairs of life, and the business of your calling; since then, as the apostle expresses it, you must needs go out of the world^(a), consider­ing the state of religion and mortality in it. Nor would I lead you to a neglect of any offices of humanity and civility to them; for such a behaviour, instead of adorning the gospel, would greatly preju­dice their minds against it. Least of all, would I hinder you from applying yourselves to them by se­rious admonitions, in order to convince them of their sin and danger, and to engage them to repen­tance and reformation. In these views the blessed Jesus himself conversed freely with persons of the most infamous characters, though they were perfect­ly holy, harmless, undefiled, and in that sense sepa­rate from sinners^(b). The folly I would caution you against is, ‘chusing irreligious persons for your intimate friends, and delighting to spend your va­cant hours in vain conversation with them.’ My [Page 72] design does not require farther explication; the great difficulty, I apprehend is, what I shall meet with while I am attempting,

II. To fortify you against the danger of such com­panions, and to [...]gage you cautiously to avoid them.

WHEN I call this the most difficult part of my work, it is not because I am at a loss for arguments, or apprehend those arguments to be either weak or ob­scure. A variety of considerations immediately pre­sent themselves to my mind, so plain, and yet so im­portant, that I am confident were the matter to be weighed in an equal balance, a few moments would be sufficient to produce a rational conviction of what I am to prove. But oh, who can answer for the ef­fect of such a conviction? When I consider the unaccountable inchantment which there seems to be in such company as I am warning you against; and reflect on the instances, in which I have seen young persons of sense and education, who once appeared to promise remarkably well, at length entangled, and some of them ruined by it; I dare not presume on the success I might otherwise expect. Nevertheless, I know, that the word of God is quick and power­ful, and sharper than any two-edged sword; and I know, that if it be guided by the hand of the bles­sed Spirit, it will be effectual to divide you from your most delightful carnal associates; since it can separate things as near to each other, as the [...] and [...], and [...] open the heart to so clear [...] view, as that it shall seem to have discerned even [...] though [...] ^(a).

[...] this [...] to [...] the attempt and I hope the difficulty and importance of the case will not [...] large, but will [Page 73] also engage all, who have any regard to the happi­ness of the rising generation, to lift up their hearts to God, that he may assist and succeed me in plead­ing this weighty cause, in which the interests of time and eternity are so apparently concerned.

GIVE me leave then to bespeak the most serious at­tention of all that hear me, and especially of the young­er part of my audience, while I urge on your consci­ences such considerations as these—Seriously reflect on the many unhappy consequences which will attend your going in the way of sinners;—Think on those entertainments and pleasures which you give up for the sake of their society: and consider how little ad­vantage you can expect from thence, to counter-ba­lance the pleasures you resign, and the evils you in­cur by it.

1. LET me intreat you seriously to reflect on the many unhappy consequences which will attend your entering into the path of the wicked, and going in the way of evil men.

YOU probably will by this means quickly wear out all serious impressions;—you will be exposed to numberless temptations to sin and folly,—and thrown out of the way of amendment and refor­mation;—and thus will be led into a great many temporal inconveniences,—till at last you perish with your sinful companions, and have your eternal portion amongst them in hell.

(1) BY this means you will be in the ready way to lose all sense of religion, and out-grow the impressions of a serious education, if provi­dence have favoured you with it.

IF your hearts are not harder than the nether mill-stone, some such impressions were surely made [Page 74] in your younger years; and I believe, few that have been trained up in religious families have entirely es­caped them. If these are duly improved, they will end in conversion and glory; but, if they are resist­ed, they lead to greater obstinacy in sin, and throw the soul still farther from the kingdom of God. Now what can be more evident than the tendency of vain and carnal conversation to quench the blessed Spirit of God, and hinder the mind from falling in with his preparatory work upon it.

I AM persauded, that if they, who are under some prevailing sense of divine things, consider how difficult they often find it to preserve those impres­sions on their spirits, in the company of some who appear on the whole to be serious people, even they will be afraid frequently to venture into the com­pany of the sensual and profane. As Mr. Bolton finely expresses it^*, ‘throw a blazing firebrand into snow or rain, and its brightness and heat will quickly be extinguished; so let the liveliest chris­tian plunge himself into carnal company, and he will soon find the warmth of his zeal abated, [...] the tenderness of his conscience prejudiced.’ Now, if it [...] detrimental to those that have delibe­rately devoted themselves to the service of God, and have had some experience of the goodness of his ways, judge how much more dangerous it must be to him who has some feeble desires, and, as yet un­determined purposes, in favour of it. Young peo­ple are extremely rash and credulous; and when you see your favourite companions neglecting serious godliness, and, perhaps, deriding it, it is a thousand to one, that you will not have the courage to op­pose them▪ you will probably, at first, be silent; and then, you will grow ashamed of your former renderness; till at last, seduced by the craftiness of [Page 75] them that lie in wait to deceive^(a), you may se­cretly censure religion, as an unnecessary and bur­thensome thing, if you are not transported so far as openly to revile it, and join in the senseless and impious cry against those that appear to be influ­enced by it.

AGAIN, when you have been used to the plea­sures of such company, and, perhaps, of that un­bridled luxury which they may be ready to lead you into, you will, no doubt, lose your relish for all the entertainments of devotion. The hours you spend in the exercises of it in public, or in the family, will grow tedious, and almost insupportable to you; and you will rejoice when the dull work is over, that you may return to your beloved companions again. Thus will all regard to religion be gradually worn out of your mind; and this seems to be the argu­ment suggested by St. Paul, to dissuade the Corin­thians from being unequally yoked with unbeliev­ers. For what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? or what communion hath light with darkness^(b)? This alone would be a very considerable evil; but it is far from being all you have to fear; for, I add,

(2) BY frequenting ill company, you lay your­selves open to many temptations, and [...] will be drawn into a great deal of guilt.

You know, there is a strong sorce in example "We are all," says Mr. Lock, ‘a kind of [...] lions, that take a tincture from that▪ which [...] near us^*.’ So that, if you converse with wick­ed people, you will probably become like them your­selves. It is an argument, which Solomon urg [...] [Page 76] against forming any peculiar intimacy with those that are passionate: and it is equally applicable to many other cases: make no friendship with an an­gry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go; lest thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul^(a).

ALAS, sinners, you are to too apt to be led into guilt by your own corrupt hearts, even when you have the fairest advantages against it, amidst the wisest instructions, and the holiest examples; how for [...]eably then will the temptation assault you, when you see others, and those your most intimate friends, yield to it without any appearance of remorse? and when, it may be, you hear them pleading in favour of the compliance, and endeavouring to persuade you to join in the practice, as what they have them­selves found delightful and advantageous?

IT is no small evil for an immortal creature, who was sent into the world to serve God, and to secure a happy immortality, to live in vain, and trifle away hour after hour, in mere idleness and impertinence. Yet this is the least sin that bad company leads a man into. Unhappy as this is, would to God that it always rested here! the world would at least be more peaceful, and your damnation, sinners, would be less intolerable. But daily observation undeni­ably proves, that by evil examples, and wicked com­panions, people generally learn gluttony and drunk­enness, swearing and uncleanness. It engages them in foolish quarrels, in which they blaspheme the name of God, and injure their neighbour; and it ha­bituates them to such extravagant ways of living, as they are forced to support by secret dishonesty, and very often by open robbery. Thus they gradually fall into those scandalous enormities, which at first they could not have thought of without horror. [Page 77] Thia fatal effect is plainly hinted at in Proverbs, where the wretch that abandoned himself to the soci­ety of sinners, is represented as acknowledging, that he was almost in all evil, in the midst of the congre­gation and assembly^(a); i. e. he was so hardened in his various crimes, as not to be ashamed to commit, or at least to avow them in the most public manner.

(3) BY frequenting sinful company, you will throw yourselves out of the way of repentance and reformation.

I BEFORE observed, that you will by this means contract a disrelish for the exercises of devotion; and this will probably be attended with the neglect of those ordinances, which God hath appointed as the great means of our conversion and edification. And when these are neglected, how can you ex­pect that God should pursue you with uncommon interpositions of his grace? That when his word is despised, and his house forsaken, he should seize you as it were by violence, amongst your dissolute companions, and convert you in your midnight re­vels? Your pious friends may indeed have some op­portunities in private of expostulating with you; but it will require a great deal of resolution to at­tempt it; and when they do, they must take it as a peculiar favour, if you give them a patient hear­ing, and don't affront and revile them for their cha­ritable endeavour of delivering your souls from the pit of destruction, and plucking you as brand [...] out of everlasting burnings^(b).

But if we should allow, that their importunity, or any other consideration, should sometimes b [...]ing you within the hearing of an [...], practice [...] sermon, and some serious impression should be made [Page 78] upon your minds by it, it is very probable all these convictions will wear off, as soon as you return to your wicked companions again. One gay, licenti­ous hour amongst them may undo the labour of ma­ny days and weeks, and presently teach you to laugh at yourself for the former alarm, as if every fear had been vain, and every purpose of reformation need­less. And thus your hearts, will be like temper­ed steel, which gathers strength from every blow of the hammer, to make a more vigorous resistance to the next; and you will harden to all the most mol­lifying methods of providence and of grace, till at length you provoke the blessed spirit, so often re­sisted, entirely to withdraw, and so you be sealed up under final impenitency. Thus the poor foolish creature I mentioned before, who was so fond of the society of sinners, is represented as reflecting too late that all the wisest and kindest endeavours of his friends, for his reformation, had been utterly in­effectual. How, says he, have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof! I have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined my ear to them that instructed me^(a). Thus incorrigibly disobedient will you be, if you enter into the path of sinners, and go in the way of evil men. In con­sequence of this,

(4) YOU will undoubtedly find yourselves expos­ed to a great deal of present inconvenience and calamity, with regard to your temporal assairs.

Now, methinks, this consideration should at least have its weight with you, whose guilt it is, and whose r [...]in it too probably may be, to look only at those things which are seen, and are temporal^(b). I [Page 79] before observed, that by frequenting ill company, you will be under strong temptations to idleness. And thus you will in all probability, waste your sub­stance, and shorten your days; and in the mean time lay a foundation for many diseases, which may give you an utter disrelish for all the comforts and en­tertainments of life, when you stand in the greatest need of relief from them. I add, that it is not at all unlikely, that the foolish quarrels, into which it may lead you, may be attended with cost or pain, and perhaps with both. And as for your reputati­on, which to a generous spirit is one of the dearest of all temporal enjoyments, I must plainly tell you, that if you determine to take no care in the choice of your company, you must necessarily give it up. For if, almost by a miracle, you should be kept from running, with your sinful associates, into the same excess of riot and folly; yet the very circum­stance of taking pleasure in such sort of compani­ons will be enough to overthrow it, in the judgment of wise and considerate people.

SUCH arguments as these does Solomon use, when cautioning his young readers against so dangerous an entanglement. He pleads the many temporal inconve­niences and evils which attend it, and many of which I have just been mentioning. He observes, that it tends to impoverish them: he that follows after vain persons, shall have poverty enough^(a): that how­ever it may seem the cement of friendship, it often proves the occasion of enmity and contention^(b); for who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath con­tentions? who hath babblings? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine with the partners of their midnight debaucheries. How much the health is impared by it, is evidently suggested, when he re­presents [Page 80] the poor creature as mourning at last, when his flesh and his body are consumed^(a); and to add no more, he expressly tells us, that sinners, by these kinds of confederacies, lay snares for their own blood, and lurk privily for their own lives^(b); which he useth as an argument against complying with their proposals, when they seem most advantagious. And accordingly we see, that most of these unhap­py creatures, who are the victims of public justice, and fall by the hand of the executioner, declare with their dying breath, that wicked company was the occasion of their ruin.

(5) IF you chuse the society of sinners, you will probably perish with them, and have their company in hell, as you have had it upon earth.

THE probability of this dreadful consequence is but too apparent from what I have said under the former heads of this discourse. If you lose those religious impressions which were early made, if you are drawn into a great deal of sin, and thrown out of the way of repentance and reformation, what can the end of these things be? Or what can you rea­sonably expect, but that God should execute upon you all the fierceness of his wrath? And to cut off your vain, presumptuous hopes, and awaken you to that sense of danger, which is so absolutely necessary for your deliverance, he has expressly threatened it; and that not only in general with re­spect to all sinners, but particularly to such as are fond of wicked company. And it is worth your while to observe, in what language he threatens it: a companion of fools shall be destroyed^(c). So that what Solomon says of one sort of sinful com­panions [Page 81] is justly applicable to the rest. Their house is the way to hell, going down to the cham­ber of death^(a).

Now let me intreat you to dwell upon this thought, till you feel something of the weight and the terror of it. Be sometimes asking yourselves, ‘How can we dwell with the devouring fire? How can we lie down in everlasting burnings^(b)?’ How can you endure those torments youselves? And in what temper, and with what reflections, will you meet the partners of your guilt and folly there? And in what manner will you converse together? Alas, my friends, in those seats of horror and des­pair, all that rendered your intercourse on earth de­lightful, will be come to an eternal period. There will be no opportunities for you and them to gratify your sensual desires together: no delicious food, no intoxicating liquors, no gay tales, no chearful songs; but instead of these, blackness of darkness for ever more^(c); weeping and wailing, and gnash­ing of teeth^(d); the worm that never dies, and the fire that cannot be quenched^(e).

WILL it then be any relief to you, to look back on those days, which you shared in luxury, and in sin? Will your friendship still continue? And will you be endeavouring by tender condolences, and by obliging offices, to mollify and alleviate the miseries of each other? Alas, sinners, Hell is not the seat of friendship, but of everlasting enmity and rage. All the wretched inhabitants will live in perpetual discord, and mutual abhorrence. And no doubt your keenest resentments will burn against those, who have been your partners in sin; as your aggra­vated damnation will be in part owing to them. And on the same principles, will their indignations [Page 82] rise against you. And thus you will lie forever, continually exercising all the enlarged capacities of your minds, to encrease the torments of each other. And perhaps it is the only instance, in which your desires and your attempts will be effectual. Oh! sirs, when I think of the air and form of some wick­ed creatures, when transported with passion, when I observe how venomous their speeches, and extrava­gantly furious all their actions are, methinks I see the most lively emblem of the society below: but alas, how much more dreadful must it be, to stand exposed to the rage and revenge of a damned spirit! yet this is like to be your lot; and if it be, the most delightful of your companions in sin, will proba­bly prove your fiercest tormentors.

THERE is reason to apprehend, that these, and such as these, will be the miserable consequences of wicked company with regard to yourselves. And I might now infer from hence, that your frequent­ing it must be very grievous and injurious to others. I might plead against it at large, from the alarms and sorrows to which your parents and ministers will be exposed by your pursuing it, and the mischievous influence it may have on the circumstances and cha­racters of your own domesticks, if ever you appear as heads of families, as well as of many others, with whom you be concerned. Solomon urges one of [...]se considerations, when he says, a companion of riot­ous men shameth his father^(a). Here would be a large field of argument; but I wave it at present, lest my discourse should swell beyond due bounds, as well as to avoid the repetition of what I was lay­ing before you on a former occasion^*.

NEVERTHELESS, I hope you are abundantly con­vinced, by what hath been already said, that the [Page 83] pernicious and dangerous consequences are many and great: let me intreat you farther to consider,

2. How much nobler entertainment and plea­sure, you give up for a converse, which is like to prove so fatal to you.

I WOULD fain persuade you, if already intang­led, to burst these bands asunder, and to cast away these cords from you, which will otherwise bind you as victims to eternal wrath. And to engage you to it, I would say, as the wise man doth, forsake the foolish, and live^(a): it is not only necessary, to pre­serve your life; but you may likewise be assured, it would most happily improve it, and bring you to an­other kind of life than what you have yet known, in comparison of which your present way of life is but a wild, distempered dream. The father of lies may, perhaps, has persuaded your weak and unexperienc­ed minds, that there is no such thing as pleasure to be found out of this enchanted circle which he has drawn about you: but did you know wherein true self-enjoyment consists, I might have declined all those awful arguments which I have so largely been urging upon your consciences. Oh! my friends, could I but this day be so happy, as to persuade you to break the chain, and to abandon these in­snaring companions, not merely from prudential, but religious considerations, I should presently lead you into a new world. Instead of being the asso­ciates of the idle, the intemperate, and the pro­phane, you would then converse with those who are indeed the excellent of the earth^(b), and would be able to say with David, I am a companion of them that fear thee, O Lord, and of them that keep thy precepts^(c). And is that a contempti­ble [Page 84] thought? What think you, if an angel were to descend from heaven to make his abode on earth, or the Lord Jesus Christ himself were to appear again in the infirmities of human flesh; with whom would that angel, or that Redeemer, chuse an inti­mate friendship, and as frequent converse? Your own consciences tell you, that if he were ever found amongst you, it would only be, as a physician visits an hospital, to cure others, not to delight himself. And why should you esteem that society unworthy your regard, which, you are sure, the Lord Jesus Christ would prefer? It is because you imagine it gloomy and melancholy: but that imagination pro­ceeds from ignorance and mistake. Were you to be with them, when they are discoursing together of the things of God, (as, through divine good­ness, many of us have been), you might frequent­ly discern in their countenances such marks of sweet serenity and composure, and sometimes of elevated hope, and sublime, angelic joy, as would be an ocular demonstration of the pleasure, which a serious and regular mind may find in such con­verse. And to this you might be admitted, if, by forbearing to enter into the ways of sinners, you dis­cover marks of a teachable disposition. For, as So­lomon declares, the ear that heareth the reproof of life, i. e. that reproof which tends to preserve life, and to make it happy, abideth among the wise^(a); and, as he chuseth their company, he will readily be admitted to it.

I MIGHT add, that, on this supposition, you would also know what it is to be good company to yourselves. Reflection, which is now your torment, would become your pleasure. The review of a well-ordered mind, of a prudent and religious con­duct, would delight you more, than the most agree­able [Page 85] prospects, or harmonious music; and instead of holding your happiness, as you now do, in a ser­vile dependance on the presence, nay, I may add, on the humour, of others, even of such as are least to be depended upon, you would have it treasured up in your own breast, and, like the good man described in scripture, would be satisfied from yourselves^(a).

NAY, which is still [...] more, you [...] humbly hope, through the [...] and grace of the redeemer, that the [...] God, the [...] inexhaustible source of happiness, would [...] light of his countenance [...] you, and [...] you welcome into his gracious presence. [...] which St. Paul [...] in the [...] I now mention it, when, [...] from forming any [...] pleads, that God hath said, Come out from [...] them, and be ye separate, [...] Lord [...] not the unclean thing; and [...] will be a [...] you, [...] and [...] the Lord [...] God forbid, that you should [...] [...] the favour and [...] of [...] be [...] of a [...] Oh, that he would [...] you [...] of one moment; and [...]: and you would [...] th [...]r to [...] but th [...] and [...] but thee^(c) [...] that [...] thee; how much [...]

ONCE [...] now you [...] you will shortly [...] God above, and [...] with [...] greatest and [...] of [...], as well a [...] ^(b) [Page 86] noblest improvement, both in capacity, temper, and circumstances. Nor will you there only meet your pious friends, with whom on earth you took sweet counsel together, and perhaps went to the house of God in company^(a); but you will form many new acquaintances with the most excellent and glorious of created beings; you will come to the innumerable company of angels, and to the spi­rits of just men made perfect; nay, you will dwell for ever with God the judge of all, and Jesus the mediator of the new covenant^(b). But surely you cannot expect a favourable reception into that bless­ed world, or any of the preparatory felicities I have been describing, if you resolutely adhere to foolish and wicked companions now. David would not have presumed to pray, as he doth, Gather not my soul with sinners, if he could not have said, as in the preceding words, I have not sat with vain per­sons, neither will I go in with dissemblers; I have hated the congregation of evil-doers, and will not sit with the wicked^(c). And if you think to recon­cile such companions, with such enjoyments and hopes, you delude yourselves with inconsistent dreams, in direct opposition to the voice of reason, as well as of scripture. Give me leave, once more, to intreat you to consider,

3. How little advantage you can receive from such society, to counterbalance the damage you sustain, and the happiness you forfeit for it.

I AM sure it ought to be something very grand and important, for which you grieve your friends, and provoke God; for which you cut yourselves off from the most valuable enjoyments in this world [Page 87] and a better, and at length plunge yourselves into everlasting destruction. And now shew us, I in­treat you, the worthy prize; tell us what those friends are, whose company you purchase at so dear a rate; and what important offices they can do for you, to make you amends for all you must lose, and for all you must suffer, on their account? Poor wretches! the most they can do, is to administer something which may gratify your appetite, or amuse your imagination for a few transient moments. A relishing meal, a cheerful cup, a thoughtless, noi­sy burst of laughter, are some of the best things they can procure for you. And are these so great? Surely, if it were reosonable in any case, it is pe­culiarly so in this, to say of laughter, it is mad, and of mirth and luxury, what doth it^(a)? It is but a poor entertainment while it lasts, which Solomon elegantly compares to the useless momentary blaze of a few crackling thorns under a pot^(b): and there is a mixture of uneasiness often attending it from a view to the consequences, which will often force itself on the mind; so that even in laughter, the heart is sorrowful^(c). But if the satisfaction it gave were ever so transporting, or ever so com­plete, yet still it would be very contemptible, be­cause its duration is so short. Death is continual­ly advancing towards you, which will very shortly separate you from your chosen companions; and if the most beloved of them were waiting round your bed, they could by no means deliver you from the grave, or moderate the agonies which were bringing you thither. Even before your trembling souls are dislodged from your bodies, your relish for their converse will be entirely spoil­ed; so that you would think yourselves barbarous­ly insulted by them, if, in the midst of your an­guish [Page 88] and distress, they should offer you those en­tertainments which you once so fondly pursued to­gether, and which were the cement of your preca­rious and short-lived friendship. Judge then whe­ther those things are so highly valuable, which, in the near views of eternity, you would behold with hor­ror, rather than with pleasure; and whether your most rational felicity in both worlds is to be sacrificed to such vanities as these.

I FIRMLY believe, that, upon such reflections as these, you must be compelled, even to your own condemnation, to confess, that, as Solomon de­clares, He that followeth vain persons, is void of understanding^(a). And if you are convinced of it, then let me intreat you, my dear unhappy friends, who are entangled in this fatal snare, that, in the strength of divine grace, you would immediately attempt an escape. It will indeed require resoluti­on: but, remember, it will amply reward it: and therefore determine upon it this day, that you will go no more to their assemblies of vanity, and of sin; and when they would entice you, consent not to them^(b); but rather tell them plainly and seri­ously, that you know, and consider, that your souls are at stake; and tell them, you avoid their compa­ny now, because you dread it in hell. And who knows, but such a serious and lively admonition from those who were once their brethren in iniqui­ty, may do more to awaken them, than many ad­dresses from the pulpit? Who knows, but it may effectually reclaim them, and be a means of forming them to such characters, as may make their friend­ship as safe and as honourable, as ever it was dange­rous and infamous? At least, you will have deliv­ered your own soul, and may comfortably hope, that your life will be given you for a prey. With [Page 89] this solemn charge, as in the name and presence of God, I dismiss you from this head, and pro­ceed,

III. To those reflections and inferences, with which I shall conclude the discourse.

1. IF so many evils and dangers attend the pur­suit of wicked company, how careful should parents and governors be, to keep young peo­ple out of the way of it!

YOU see, from all I have been saying, how ne­cessary this care is, if you desire they should be hap­py in this world, or the next. It is a dreadful charge that is brought against Eli, and a dreadful doom is pronounced upon him for it; that his sons made themselves vile, and that he restrained them not^(a). And therefore, as you love your own souls, and those of yours, endeavour, with all possible resolu­tion, to avoid being culpable yourselves on this ac­count.

AND here I would observe, that your care must begin very early, and that it must take a great com­pass. You should endeavour betimes to lay in an antidote against the future poison, by labouring to the utmost to possess their infant minds with a sense of the divine presence, a desire of pleasing God, and a dread of offending him. You should endeavour to inspire them with an abhorrence of sin, and a love to the ways and people of God. Endeavour to find out suitable company for them, and to make your own company as delightful [...] as you can. In­dulge them in such diversions, as duty and prudence will admit; for too rigorous a restraint from th [...]se things makes them eager to pursue them, wherever [Page 90] they are to be found. And if you see they begin to form an acquaintance with such as you think likely to insnare and corrupt them, first gently warn them of it, and endeavour by the easiest methods to draw them off: if those will not do, reason with them more largely on the head; lay before them the various dangers they will be exposed to, and shew them the instances of those who have been injured and ruined by such company: instances, which, it is to be feared, you will always have near at hand: and if all this be not enough, interpose with the au­thority God has given you; absolutely forbid them the place and company, and let them see, by your after-conduct, that you are in good earnest in the prohibition. At the same time, endeavour to re­commend religion to them in the most amiable light, that they may be convinced it carries its entertain­ment along with it, so that there is no need of seek­ing pleasure in the paths of the destroyer. I know this is a matter of difficulty, and requires a great deal of prudence and steadiness to conduct it aright; but I am persuaded, if parents and masters were careful in this respect, few would be ruined till they came to be at their own disposal, and the de­struction of multitudes would be intirely prevent­ed. May God graciously give you wisdom to know your duty, and faithfulness to perform it!

2. IF wicked company be so pernicious, as we have heard; then how cautious should we be in the choice of a companion for life, if you are in such circumstances, as to have that choice before you.

IT is evident, that, as all bad company is danger­ous, so the nearer it is to us, and the more frequent the opportunities of conversing with it, the greater mischief will it probably do us. Those who are in [Page 91] the conjugal relation, should make it their great bu­siness and care, to assist and animate each other in the ways of God; and such is the prevalency of our sinful nature, and so many the snares and temp­tations of life, that, with all possible advantages our progress will be too slow, and too frequently in­terrupted. What then could you expect, if you had those, not only in your houses, but in your arms too, from whom you would hardly ever hear a serious word; and who would perhaps be unwil­ling to give you the hearing, if you should attempt any such discourse: nay, might possibly revile or banter you for it, and, by their impious language, and wicked example, might greatly deaden religious sentiments in your heart, and either prevent or frus­trate your endeavours or communicating them to those under your care? When christians of one sex or the other, chuse such a companion for life, they seem to lie under great difficulties, and will be in imminent danger, either, on the one hand, of fail­ing in a due affection and regard, or on the other, of being perverted and ensnared by that very affec­tion, which both the duties of the relation, and the comfort of life so evidently require. If any of you have taken this hazardous step, I have nothing to do but to advise you, to be daily looking up to God for that extraordinary prudence which your cir­cumstances require. But this is such a situation, that I cannot forbear praying, that, as for those of you who are yet single, no considerations of beau­ty, wit, temper, or fortune, may ever prevail upon you to bow your necks to so unequal a yoke.

3. How much reason have you to be thankful, if God has delivered you from the snares of wicked company, and given you a relish for such as is good.

[Page 92] THINK how easily you might have been entang­led and undone. Think how many, in other re­spects, at least your equals in wisdom and capacity, are in this instance making a foolish choice; and bless the Lord, who has given you counsel^(a). It is his mercy, that gives you serious and useful friends, and gives you a heart to value them. By their converse you may gain many advantages di­rectly opposite to the evils I have been describing. Be humbled, that you have improved these advan­tages no better; and pray for the aids of divine grace, that for the future they may be more dili­gently regarded. And if providence ever lead you into the company of carnal sinners, which the most pious and resolute cannot wholly avoid, labour that they may be something the better for you, and you not the worse for them; and consider all the irre­gularities you observe in them, as farther motives of thankfulness to God, for making a difference betwixt them and you, and giving you company so much more amiable than theirs. Once more,

4. Let young persons of a regular character take great heed, that they do not, by insensible degrees, become dangerous companions to each other,

THAT social turn of mind which is natural to men, and especially to young persons, may perhaps lead you to form yourselves into little societies, par­ticularly at this season of the year, to spend your evenings together. But let me intreat you to be cautious how you spend them. If your games and your cups take up your hours, till you intrench on the night, and, perhaps, the morning too, you will, to be sure, quickly corrupt each other, and [Page 93] soon degenerate into a club of rakes and dehauchees. Farewell then to prayer, and every other religious exercise in secret. Farewell to all my pleasing hopes of you, and to those hopes which your pious pa­rents have entertained. You will then become ex­amples and instances of all the evils I have so large­ly been describing. Plead not that these things are lawful in themselves, so are most of those, in a cer­tain degree, which by their abuse prove the destruc­tion of mens souls and bodies. If you meet, let it be for rational and christian conversation; and let prayer and other devotions have their frequent place amongst you. And if you say, or think, that a mixture of these will spoil the company, it is high time for you to stop your career, and call yourselves to an account; for it seems, by such a thought, that you are lovers of pleasure, much more than lovers of God^(a). [...] to have a tincture of [...] whether (in pre­sent circumstances^*) I could have proved myself fait [...] to you, and to him in whose name I speak, if I had omitted the caution I have now been giving you. I shall only add, that, had I loved you less tenderly, I had perhaps warned you more coldly of this dangerous and deadly snare, May God render the admonition as successful, as I am sure it is seasonable and necessary!

SERMON IV.
RELIGIOUS YOUTH INVITED TO EARLY COMMUNION.

ON the first hearing of these words, you will easily apprehend, that they afford abundance of very proper matter for a discourse to young people; but you may perhaps be surprised when I tell you, that I shall take occasion from them to address religious youth, with a large invitation to an [...] attendance on the table of the Lord.

THIS is a surprise which I do not at all [...] to give: for to press in a scripture to serve a pur­pose foreign to its original design, and to turn a [Page 95] mere allusion into an argument, is, in its degree, to handle the word of God deceitfully^(a), and is indeed an injury to it, rather than an honour. So that I much fear, that by thus attempting to make every thing of the scripture, we shall at length come to make nothing of it: for those seemingly distant extremes approach nearer to each other than some seem to be aware.

BUT I hope, my friends, you have learnt to judge of the pertinency of scripture to any pur­pose in hand, not merely by the first [...]ound of the words, but by an attentive view of its sense and connexion; and when the words I have been read­ing are diligently examined, they may appear more suitable to my design than you at first apprehend­ed.

THOUGH God had before been reproving Israel with great severity, and setting their sins in order before them^(b), he intimates purposes of grace and mercy, which he yet entertained toward them, unworthy as they were^(c). And, in order to pre­pare them for farther favours, he promises, in the words of the text, to pour out upon them an abun­dant effusion of the blessed spirit. Now we well know, by a multitude of scriptures, which I must not particularly enumerate, that it was to be in the [...]atter day, i. e. the gospel-times, that this glorious promise was most eminently to be fulfilled^(d).

THE blessed effects, which were to attend its ac­complishment, are described in great variety and ele­gance of language. They are represented by the refreshment which water gives to him that is thirsty, and which plentiful floods of it a [...]ord to the dry ground, when scorched with the summer's heat, [Page 96] Accordingly, it is said, that they, and their off­spring too, should flourish in religion, like the grass when thus abundantly refreshed, or like willows by the water-courses, the verdure of which is so de­lightful, and the growth so speedy, that no more proper emblem could have been chosen. Thus should the souls of the children flourish, through the divine blessing, on the instructions of pious pa­rents, and other methods appointed by God for their religious improvement. And in the next words the prophet uses still greater plainness of speech, to let us know that their number should be considerable, and their resolutions for God firm and determinate. One and another, this man and that, should come and own his relation to God, should publicly enter himself into the engagements of his covenant, and put in an humble claim to the impor­tant blessing it was intended to convey. One shall say, I am the Lord's; and another shall call him­self by the name of the Jacob; and another shall subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of Israel.

SOME very celebrated translators and critics un­derstand the words, which we render. ‘Subscribe with his hand unto the Lord,’ in a sense a little different from that which our English version has given them. They would rather render them, "Another shall write upon his hand, I am the Lord's^*;" and they suppose it refers to a custom which formerly prevailed [...]n the East, of [...] the name of the general on the [...] ^†, or that of [Page 97] the master on the slave^*. As this name was some­times borne on the forehead, so at other times on the hand; and it is certain that several scriptures, which may easily be recollected, are to be explain­ed as alluding to this^†. Now from hence it seems to have grown into a custom amongst some idola­trous nations, when solemnly devoting themselves to the service of any deity, to be initiated into it by receiving some marks in their flesh, which might ne­ver wear out^‡. This interpretation the original will certainly bear; and it here makes a very strong and beautiful sense, since every true christian has a [Page 98] sacred and an indelible character upon him which shall never be erased. But if we retain our own version, it will come to nearly the same, and evi­dently refers to a practice which was sometimes us­ed among the Jews^(a), and which is indeed ex­ceeding natural, of obliging themselves to the ser­vice of God, by setting their hand to some written articles emphatically expressing such a resolution. So that you see it must imply, that they who were, by the influences of divine grace, brought to a se­rious sense of religion, should, in a public and so­lemn manner, express their subjection to God, and their readiness to enter into covenant with him; and whatever rites should by him be appointed as the [...] of such a resolution, the text must intimate a chearful compliance with them. For it would be most unreasonable to imagine that any, of such a character, and in such circumstances, would prefer any [...] invented by themselves, or dictated merely by human prudence, to the express ordinance and institution of God. Now, forasmuch as it is evi­dent, that, under the christian dispensation, the Lord's supper is appointed to such purposes, the next must imply an attendance upon it; and when we see young christians presenting themselves at this holy solemnity, and joining themselves to God and his church in it, we may properly say, they subscribe with their hand to the Lord, and surname themselves by the name of Israel; just as we may say, in the old testament phrase, that incense is of­fered, and a pure offering^(b), when holy souls are pouring out their prayers and supplications before the throne of grace, though odours and victims no longer accompany their devotions.

I HAVE surely said enough, and perhaps more than enough, to account for my chusing these words [Page 99] to introduce the discourse I have in view; in which I am to press those young persons, whose hearts God has touched by his sanctifying grace, to sub­scribe, as it were, with their hand, by entering themselves early into christian communion, and eat­ing and drinking with our Lord at his table. In order to which, I shall,

• I. PROPOSE some plain and important arguments, to engage such to an early attendance on this sacred institution.
• II. ANSWER some objections, which are most frequently urged to excuse the neglect of it: and,
• III. CONCLUDE with hinting at some reflections and inferences, which seem naturally to pre­sent themselves.

MAY divine grace render this attempt the means of leading many young persons into a conviction of their duty and interest, and of adding unto the church such as shall be saved^(a)!

I. I AM to offer some plain and important argu­ments to engage religious youth to an early attend­ance on the supper of the Lord.

AND, before I enter on these, I must intreat you to remember, that it is to religious youth only, that I address the invitation. I well know, my friends, that the sacred institution I am now recommend­ing, is a most awful and solemn thing. I know it was intended, not only as the commemoration [...] a Redeemer's dying love, but as a seal of our cove­nant engagements to God through him; so that to attend upon it without a sincere desire of receiving Christ Jesus the Lord and devoting ourselves to [Page 100] him, is a prophanation that renders us, in some de­gree, guilty of the body and blood of the Lord^(a). I am very sensible that for any to approach it in so unworthy a manner, is not only in itself a sinful action, but may, in its consequences, prove a snare to their own souls, a stumbling to others, and a dis­honour to the church. And therefore, far from en­couraging such persons to come, I should think it a very necessary duty to labour to the utmost to dis­suade them from it, and, if providence gave me an opportunity, to prevent their admittance.

BU [...] I have frequently found, and I believe it has been the experience of many of my brethren in the ministry, that young persons, not only of a very sober and regular conduct, but even those who have appeared most deeply impressed with the concerns of their souls, and experimentally acquainted, so far as we can judge, with regenerating grace, have, in many instances, shewn a strange coldness to this blessed institution; and we have known not a few who have grown old in the neglect of it. I appre­hend therefore, that a regard to the authority and glory of my great master, to the comfort and im­provement of your souls, and to the edification and joy of the church in general, concur to require, that I [...] you, my younger friends, some public admo­nitions on this head; to which I now desire your very serious attention.

AND here permit me more largely to plead the weight of a dying Redeemer's command, as well as the honour, the pleasure, and the various advantages of an early compliance with it.

1. THE ordinance to which I now invite you, is the known command and institution of a dy­ing Redeemer.

[Page 101] I NEED not enlarge on the proof of what is so apparent. You undoubtedly know that Matthew and Mark, and Luke, agree in giving us the hi­story of its institution^(a) And St. Paul af­terwards received it by express revelation from Christ^(b), and accordingly relates it in a very cir­cumstantial and pathetic manner; telling us not on­ly that Christ commanded that this should be done in remembrance of him, but also that, by an attend­ance upon it, our Lord's death is shewed forth till he come; plainly intimating thereby, (what the ends of the ordinance do farther evince), that it was to continue in the church to its remotest ages. So that, on the whole, you exceedingly mistake if you imagine this to be mere matter of choice, in any other sense, than as all the duty of a rational creature is so. Our Lord has plainly determined the matter by his own sacred authority, leaving this ordinance in charge to all his followers. I say to all, for there is no limitation as to the age of those that should attend it. It is a command to young and old, as well as to rich and poor; and all, that are capable of understanding it, are obliged to com­ply with it, and thereby to do their homage to their exalted sovereign, and express their gratitude to their most generous friend. And can you in rea­son refuse your compliance? Methinks the name of the son of God should carry along with it an au­thority too great to be despised, and the name of your redeemer a constraining love too forcible to [...] withstood; especially the name of a dying Redeem­er. Surely, my friends, if a dying parent, or bro­ther, had given you a charge almost with his ex­piring breath, you could not lightly have acted con­trary to it. How much greater regard do you [Page 102] owe to what the blessed Jesus appointed (as the apo­stle most pertinently observes (the same night in which he was betrayed^(a)! Had it been some hard thing that he had then enjoined, and had the reason of it been unknown, so that it had appeared as a mere arbitrary constitution, the neglect of it had been foolish and ungrateful. Had it been a more painful rite than that of initiation amongst the Jews, more laborious than their frequent jour­nies to Jerusalem, and more costly than the sacrific­es they offered there, the precept of our dying Lord had carried in it an abundant answer to all that ease or interest could have pleaded against it: how much more, when the reason is so evident, and the observation, in all respects, so easy! Judge, I pray you, whether it would be neglected. Judge, whether it be a decent thing, that when we are sit­ting down to break and eat bread, and to pour forth and drink wine, that we may represent the breaking of Christ's body, and the pouring forth of his blood, and seal our covenant-engagements with him, more than one half of the professing, christians in the assembly should rise, and either leave the place, or withdraw to a distance from the holy table. What is this but to say, ‘We will now have no­thing to do with the memorials of a crucified Sa­viour?’ Will you, my friends, thus seperate your­selves from us? What if others were to learn of you, and to imitate your example? Where would the ordinance quickly be? Nay, where would it al­ready have been, had this temper prevailed? Where, but in our bibles? For there it would still have stood, to condemn our ungrateful disobedience, as it condemns yours.

[Page 103] 2. AN early attendance upon this ordinance will be truly honourable to you.

I WISH I could say that the omission of it were, in the repute of the generality of professing chris­tians, so dishonourable as it ought; but it is now grown so common, that much of the just infamy of it is worn off. Nevertheless, if we will serious­ly consider it, we must own, that where reason and duty require any practice, (which I have already proved to be the case here,) the more frequently it is neglected, the more honourable is a regard to it; as it argues a laudable fortitude of mind, to oppose a prevailing evil, by which multitudes are borne away. And who, that hath any sense of generosi­ty and goodness, would not wish to signalize him­self on such an occasion as this?

I APPEAL to your own hearts, my brethren, even when you have divested yourselves of every senti­ment of ostentation and pride, (which I would not desire to press into the service of the sanctua­ry), would is not afford you a rational and pious pleasure to reflect, that your fellow-christians might say with regard to you, ‘These are the persons who are happily distinguished from most of their companions, by obedience to God and gratitude to their Redeemer; they dare stand up for the ho­nour of his institutions, and of his name, in the midst of all the languor, and all the impiety of a degenerate age. Far from running with others to the same excess of riot^(a), they do not only secretly retire, that they may converse with God, and devote themselves to him, but they have the courage openly to appear in so good a cause. Far from being ashamed of Christ, or of his words, in this adultrous and sinful generation^(b), they [Page 154] readily expose themselves to all the glorious re­proach of a determinate adherence to him. Thus do they publicly declare, that their hearts are touched with a sense of his love, and inspired with resolution for his service. And as they are thus planted in the house of the Lord^(a), We hope they will flourish to old age there; so that genera­tions, which [...] yet unborn, shall be refreshed by their shade, and nourished by their fruit.’ Thus will you, like Jabez^(b), he more honourable than all your brethren, if, like him, you call upon the name of the Lord, or, in the language of the text, subscribe with your hand unto him.

3. LET me plead the pleasure which this ordi­nance affords, as a farther argument for an ear­ly attendance upon it.

IF your hearts have been touched by regenerating grace, you must surely know, that communion with God through a mediator is unutterably delightful: and must own, that when you enjoy it, your souls are satisfied, as with marrow and fatness^(c). If this be the case, I am sure you would look with an holy scorn on any sensual gratification that could be brought in comparison with those sublime and sacred entertainments. Now, when you consider the Lord's supper as an ordinance of divine appoint­ment, you have just reason to hope, that God will honour it with his gracious presence; nay, when you consider the nature and design of the instituti­on, you may probably [...] some peculiar sweet­ness and delight in it beyond what you have hither­to known. I say not, [...] you can be absolutely secure of your finding it; for it becomes the so­vereignty [Page 105] of the ever blessed God, not to confine himself invariably to any method of operation; le [...]t his agency should at length be disregarded in it, and the honour transferred to the instrument: but I speak of what may probably be found; and I think I might here appeal to all considerate persons, who know anything of the workings of the human mind; for I persuade myself they would be compelled to al­low, that a regular attendance on such a solemnity has a direct tendency to produce the most delight­ful sensations in a soul deeply impressed with the great principles of our christian faith.

OH, my friends, what a scene is there opened, when, by these lively memorials of his dying love, the Lord Jesus Christ, is evidently set forth as cruci­fied among us^(a)! Surely the spectacle must be de­lightful, even to creatures who are themselves per­fectly innocent and holy! Surely the angels, who probably are present in the churches while the so­lemnity is performed, must attend it with a pleasing mixture of admiration, and of joy! "Thus," may they be ready to say to each other ‘thus was the great design accomplished! In such sufferings did the son of God expire! By such surprising steps of condescension and of love, were apostate crea­tures recovered to their God: thus was the [...]am­ing vengeance of the divine majesty atoned! and now he is graciously smiling upon them; and these happy souls are sitting, as around their father's board, and anticipating the entertainments of our celestial world.’

BUT the guest, who is called to sit down at such a banquet, may well be supposed to feel some ten­der and transporting pleasure, beyond that of such an angelick spectator. "These," oh my soul, may the believer say, when the bread is broken, and the [Page 106] wine poured out, ‘these were the painful suffer­ings, which the blessed Redeemer endured for such a wretch as I am: for he loved me, and gave himself for me^a: he was wounded for my transgressions, he was bruised for mine iniquities^b. All these dreadful conflicts of nature did he pass through to avert from me that weight of wrath, which would otherwise have overwhelmed me beyond all hope of deliverance. And here are the emblems of his dying love and his living care. Here are the precious seals of that ever­lasting covenant established in his blood, which, as it is well ordered in all things, and sure, is all my salvation, and all my desire^c. By these tokens doth a faithful God assure me, that my sins are pardoned, that I am admitted into his fa­mily, and intitled to all the invaluable blessings of of his children. Delightful thought! I have no­thing now to do, but quietly to sit down, and wait with a holy sense and tranquility of soul for the imitations of his father's will, till he calls me to dwell in his house above. Yet a little while, oh my soul, and thou shalt rise to nobler enjoy­ments than even these; for the bread thou hast been eating, and the wine thou hast been drink­ing, are pledges of a divine banquet above, in the visible and immediate presence of the blessed founder of the sacred feast. The security of the covenant I have this day been sealing, will con­tinue in full force when the bands of nature are dissolved: if I drink no more with my Saviour of this fruit of the vine here, I shall drink it new with him in his father's kingdom^d; and therefore may encounter death in the triumphant accents of good old Simeon^e, now, L [...], let­test [Page 107] thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.’

THROUGH the divine goodness, I hope we can say, we speak what we know^a; and testify, not only what we have heard from the experience of others, but what we have ourselves tasted and felt. Thus is God visiting and refreshing our souls, while we are attending at the blessed ordinance; and why will you not come and share with us in the enter­tainments, so sincerely and so freely offered? is he not saying unto you, Eat, oh my friends; and drink, yea drink abundantly, oh my beloved^b? Why then do you wrong your own souls, as well as af­front his goodness, by neglecting the invitation? Would you come th [...] early, you might promise yourselves a peculiar welcome, and a peculiar plea­sure. Many painful reflections might by this means, be prevented, and the evidence of your sincerity be more happily secured; not to say, that while your spirits are brisk [...]d active, you may feel the im­pression of those sacred passions, which are so suit­ed to this occasion, with greater energy, and great­er tenderness, than could be expected under the de­cays of nature, in the evening of life.

I SHALL only add, that these sublime pleasures are not limited to the happy moments which you spend in an immediate attendance on this feast of love; but they may be renewed, and perhaps sometimes in­creased, by reflection? whereas that often brings a sting along with it, more than sufficient to balance all the sweetness to be found in irregular, sensual delights.

4. AN early attendance on the Lord's supper would be very useful, as well as entertaining.

[Page 108] It may probably be useful, both to yourselves, and others I say,

(1) It might be useful to yourselves in a variety of respects.

I CONSIDER, that I am now speaking to them that look upon improvement in religion as their highest interest; and therefore shall only endeavour to shew you, what a tendency this ordinance has to assist you therein; and that is so evident, that I need not dwell largely on particulars, which, when suggest­ed in a few words, may furnish you with matter of ample meditation. I shall but mention then the following hints.

THE preparatory exercises of devotion might be very awakening and edifying to you. The re­view of your conduct, which you would be taking on the approach of these solemn seasons; the pray­ers and praises you would then be addressing to God, and the meditations in which your minds would be employed, would rouse you out of that lethargy into which you may be ready to sink, and which the best of men find too frequently prevailing.

THE views of a bleeding Redeemer, of a recon­ciled God, of a confirmed covenant, and of a world of approaching glory, which this ordinance so na­turally exhibit, would strengthen, as well as delight, your souls; and, by virtue of the refreshments re­ceived at these solemnities, you might be enabled to go on your way rejoicing, and to make a sensible pro­gress in your journey towards the heavenly Canaan.

THE remembrance of those solemn engagements, with which you would then be binding your souls unto the Lord, would be a ready answer in hours of future temptations. You would start back with horror at the thought of alienating your services from a God, to whom you had so seriously and pub­licly [Page 109] devoted them; and of returning to th [...]se folli [...]s and [...]ns, which you had in a peculiar manner co [...] ­nanted against: for this would appear to be adding sacrilege and perjury to the guilt of all your other offences.

I SHALL only add here, that, by entering thus early into the communion of a church, you will be brought under the more immediate inspection of the pastor of it, and likewise of your christian brethren; whose faithful and tender admonitions may be of great assistance to your unexperienced youth, and happily promote your progress, both in the paths of prudence, and of holiness. Nay, the very thoughts of having drawn upon you the eyes of a society, and of others too, would engage you to some more than ordinary care, that you might not incur their censure, or disappoint the expectati­ons which many have raised of you. And, in con­firmation of all this, I cannot but observe, that many of the most eminent christians I have ever known, were found amongst those, who in their ear­ly days took this method of giving themselves to God and his people.—I might farther shew you,

(2) THAT your compliance with the exhortati­on I am now enforcing, might be useful to others, as well as to yourselves.

THIS is indeed, in part of consequence of the former; for, the more your own souls are advanced in knowledge and holiness, the more capable, and the more ready will you be, to promote the interest of Christ in the world, and to do good to those that are round about you. But I would especially lead you to consider, that your attendance itself, se­parate from these remoter consequences of it, might probably be useful to others.

[Page 110] OTHER young persons would, very probably, be awakened to a sense of their duty by your exam­ple; and those who are more advanced in years may be shamed out of their neglect, when they see those, who are so far below them in age, getting the start of them here. Nor have instances been wanting within the circle of our own acquaintance, where parents have been stirred up to a holy emulation, by the early zeal of their own children in this re­spect. It will be joy to all that wish well to the cause of a Redeemer to see that God is giving him youth, like the drops of morning-dew^a, and caus­ing converts to flock to him, like doves unto their windows^b: but ministers will have a peculiar share in the pleasure, when they see of the travail of their soul^c, and find, that there are at least some instances, in which they do not labour in vain, and spend their strength for nought^d. Especially shall those of us, who are entering on the work of the Lord^* rejoice to meet our younger brethren at this ordinance, as it will give us encouragement to hope, that religion will not die in our hands, and be buried in the graves of our more aged friends; but will be supported and adorned by you and trans­mitted to those that are yet unborn. The joy of our heart on this occasion may add vigour, as well as pleasure, to our labours; and so, through the concurrence of almighty grace, may have a tenden­cy to render them still more successful.

LET me then intreat and conjure you, by the au­thoriy of the King of glory and of grace, and by a regard to the honour, the pleasure and the use­fulness, of your lives, that you no longer persist in the neglect of an ordinance so sacred and noble, so delightful and advantageous.

[Page 111] I AM persuaded, you must know and own, that the arguments I have urged are both evident and weighty; and yet I fear, you will find something to oppose to them, which if it be not examined, may prevent or at least diminish their success. I proceed therefore,

II. To obviate some objections, which may be offered in excuse for a longer delay.

AND [...]ere I shall not raise difficulties merely to canvass them, but confine myself to such objections as I have heard some urge on this occasion; and shall briefly suggest some hints, by way of answer to them. And if the enumeration be not so large, or the reply so full as you could wish, you know where you will be always welcome to propose your scruples as freely, and to state them as amply, as you please.

1. THE most obvious reply to the preceding ad­dress is, that ‘you fear you are not prepared for this ordinance, and therefore apprehend, that your attendance would prove dange­rous, rather than beneficial.’

TO this I answer; if the case be indeed thus, I have already told you, that you are not the persons to whom I have been addressing. Nevertheless, give me leave to remind you, that you ought not rashly to form such a conclusion against yourselves. I am sure the matter requires a very attentive ex­amination; and perhaps, on such a review, you may find things are not so bad as you imagine.

YOU say, you are not prepared: but I hope you know that there is a great deal of difference be­tween the nature and importance of an actual and habitual preparation. It is plain, that actual pre­paration consist in those extraordinary devotions, which, when opportunity permits, we should use in [Page 112] our approach to this sacrament; and therefore sup­poses such an approach to be determined, and con­sequently there can be no room, in the present case, to object the want of that.

BUT you fear, that you are not habitually pre­pared, i. e. that you are not persons of such a temper and character as Christ, the great Lord of the feast, has invited, and will welcome to it. To determine that, consider the purposes for which the ordinance was appointed, and observe how far your present temper corresponds to them. It was appointed to commemorate the death of Christ, and, in this view, all are fit for it, who re­gard him as the great atoning sacrifice, and desire that their hearts may be affected, and their lives influenced, by a sense of his dying love. It is a pledge of our mutual affection to each other, even to all our brethren in the Lord; and in this respect, all are prepared for it whose hearts are divested of all turbulent and unfriendly passions, and overflow with undissembled charity and diffusive benevo­lence. True, will you perhaps say; but is it not also designed as a seal of the covenant of grace [...] It certainly is; and it must be a very criminal propha­nation to attend it, while an alien from that cove­nant: your determination therefore must turn on the answer which conscience will make, as to your readiness to enter yourselves into it. For if this be your prevailing desire, and stedfast resolution, you have not only a right to the ordinance, though it b [...] a seal of the covenant; but its being appointed by Christ, in this view, is an additional and very weigh­ty argument for your immediate and frequent at­tendance upon it. And here the question is in short this; ‘do you sincerely desire to make an unreserved surrender of yourselves to God, as your owner, rul [...], and supreme felicity, with a humble dependance on the mediation of his son, [Page 113] and the enlivening and sanctifying influences of his spirit?’ If this be your prevailing desire, and sincere purpose, you may assure yourselves of the kindest welcome, though your graces may be at­tended with a great deal of imperfection and weak­ness. But if you are strangers to such a desire, I must allow the objection in its full force, and own, that you have no business at the table of the Lord

NEVERTHELESS I cannot part with you so. Oh my friends, is there nothing mournful, and, I will add, is there nothing dreadful, in such a con­clusion as this? ‘I have no business at the table of the Lord▪ I have no part in this blessed re­past, because I have no part in that Redeemer, whose death is commemorated there: and there­fore I am shut out, by his own appointment shut out! and is not that a sad intimation with respect to what is yet to come? When I enter on the in­visible and eternal state, as I this night may, will he admit me to live and reign with him in a world of glory, who would not allow me so much as an approach to his table on earth? Oh my soul, it is too plain, thou must be separated from his blissful presence, and driven to an eternal dis­tance, whence thou wilt behold with despairing eyes those pious souls, who have eaten and drank with him here, sitting down with [...] his king­dom.’ This will not seem a [...] then: oh that it might now be duly regarded!

FROM all this it will appear, that if this objecti­on from an unprepared temper be true, it ought not to be lightly passed over, but should rather be seriously considered, and the removal of it, through divine assistance, immediately attempted; since, till you are prepared for this sacrament, you cannot be prepared for heaven; and consequently are in circumstances of the extremest danger, and daily walk on the precipice of eternal ruin.

[Page 114] BUT I would hope, many of you, on inquiry, find this is not your character and case. The un­fitness you object will amount to no more than this; that you find grace weak and languid in your souls, though you have reason to hope you are not wholly destitute of it. And is this a just excuse for absenting yourselves from so confirming and edifying, as well as so delightful an ordinance? It is just as reasonable, as if you were to plead, ‘I am very faint, and therefore I will not take the most noble, reviving cordial. I am very weak, and therefore I will refuse the most nourishing and strengthening food.’ Thus much for the first objection. It is more than [...]me that I proceed to those that remain.

2. OTHERS fear, that the ‘the society of chris­tians, to which they would join themselves, may be unwilling to admit them to such a relation.’

Now I must own, that if this objection be made by persons who have been notorious on account of their immoralities, and who are but lately recover­ed to a sense of divine things, it will not admit of an immediate answer; nor can I invite such to this sacred ordinance, till they give evidence of the rea­lity of a change in their heart, by an apparent re­formation of life, and some steady and prevalent re­solution in a religious course: in the mean time, a regard to the ho [...]our of a christian society may oblige the church to be a little reserved towards such persons, and such a reserve is consistent with the greatest tenderness towards them, and the most affectionate concern, that they may not break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax^a.

[Page 115] BUT as for such young persons, or others, who have been preserved from such irregularities, whose conduct has been fair and honourable, and who have not only arrived at a competent know­ledge of the great truths of christianity, but have for some time been impressed with them, so that they have formed a determinate resolution for the service of God, and, it may be, for some years made trial of his ways▪ far be it from us, my brethren, to say one word to discourage your approach. On the contrary, we would rather invite it; for we know it is most evidently reasonable, that when the spirit appears to say, Come^a, the bride, i. e. the church, should echo back the call [...] ▪ We know, my friends, that we are not the maste [...] of this holy feast: we know, that it is not for us to set bounds of our own about this sacred table, and say, "Thus low must you bow to us, before you take your seats there." This is a conduct, which we not only ab­hor, as inhumanity to you, but dread, as an inso­lent usurpation on the rights of our common Lord. If you have indeed tasted that the Lord is gra­cious, you will not sure be unwilling, with meekness and modesty, to give some reason of the hope that is in you^b: and blessed be God, we have not so learned Christ^c, as to make our own phrases, or forms, or any thing singular in our own experienc­es, or the customs of our own society, the standard by which we judge either of the faith, or the pie­ty of our brethren.

3. YOU may, perhaps, farther, plead, ‘that you fear, lest, if you should enter into the church, you should dishonour it by an unsuitable be­haviour, which might bring a reproach on religion, and its blessed author.’

[Page 116] BUT give me leave to say, that this very fear ar­gues such a tenderness, and such a humility of soul, as may in a great measure answer itself. I hope you go forth in the strength of the Lord, as well as making mention of his righteousness alone^a: and you must know, that if a bare possibility of falling into sin were to exclude from this ordinance, the most confirmed christian upon earth could not dare to approach it. But while you see your own weakness, and maintain, on the one hand, such a jealousy over yourselves, and, on the other, such a zeal for the honour of religion, it is a certain evi­dence, that you are not yet left of God, and a most comfortable sign, that he will never forsake you. Nay, I will add that I know none more likely to prove the ornaments of a society, than those who have such humble apprehension, lest they should prove its reproach.

4. OTHERS may be ready to excuse their absent­ing themselves from this ordinance, ‘because it is so commonly neglected by professing christians.’

Now as for this, I bless God, it is far from be­ing a singular thing amongst us, to see the table of the Lord furnished with guests, and young christi­ans taking their places there. I speak it with great pleasure and thankfulness. But suppose it were otherwise; what if the neglect of this institution were much more common, both amongst the aged and the young, than it is in most worshipping as­semblies; could you have the heart to draw an ar­gument from [...]hence? ‘My dearest friend, my most gracious benefactor, is generally neglected; his dying command, his dying love, is in a great [Page 117] measure forgotten; and therefore I will forget him, and I will neglect him.’ Say, christians, could a generous mind reconcile itself to such a thought? Could a pious soul draw such a conse­quence as this? Methinks the argument lies quite the contrary way: ‘therefore, oh my compassion­ate Saviour, will I attend with the greater soli­citude, that I may, if possible, shame others out of their neglect; or at least, may in part supply their lack of service, and bear my own testimony against an ungrateful generation, who call them­selves thy disciples, and neglect this distinguish­ing badge of their profession, this garcious memo­rial of thy dying love.’

5. OTHERS may plead ‘the apprehensions of aggravated guilt, and ruin, if, after sacra­mental engagements, they should apostatize from God.’

To this I answer, that I hope you, my friends, are not so unacquainted with the nature of this or­dinance, and the constitution of the gospel, as to imagine that it consigns us over to certain damna­tion, if in any instance we afterwards deviate from the paths of our duty; for, if it were so, who then could be saved^a? But it is probable, your fears refer to total apostacy. If so, I readily own that, should this be the case, it would in a dreadful degree inflame your guilt, and aggravate your misery, that you had not only known the way of righteousness^b, but that you had eaten and drank in the pre­sence of the Lord^c. But have you any thoughts of drawing back from him, that you are thus cau­tious to avoid an instituted ordinance, merely be­cause, in that [...]ase, it would aggravate your ruin? [Page 118] So would every prayer you offer, and every sermon you hear; but should that thought prevent your coming to the throne of grace, or drive you from the house of God?

NAY, to strike home; I will add, that with re­gard to you, my friends, the caution comes too late. I speak of those, who have not only tasted of the good word of God, and of the powers of the world to come^a, but have made trial of the ways of wisdom and piety, and have had some experience in them; and as for you, I must plainly and faith­fully declare, that it is not for you, of all people in the world, to think of gentle flames, and tolerable damnation. No, my brethren, that hope, wretch­ed as it is, if you shall fall away, is unavoidably cut off from you; and all your schemes must be for no­thing less than certain salvation, and exalted glory. And [...] let [...] you, that though [...] is always th [...] duty of him, that thinketh he [...] heed lest he fall^b; yet you have all imaginable reason to trust the promises of an everlasting covenant, and to rely upon the great Redeemer, who hath declared, that he will give un­to his sheep eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them out of his hand^c, or be able to separate them from his love^d. If then you fear the dreadful consequences of aposta­cy, which would, indeed, be dreadful beyond all your fears, keep near to him as the great shepherd; and let those very fears rather engage you to an early and diligent attendance on this, and every other appointed method of approach, than drive you away from it. It is most reasonable to say, ‘Since there are so many professors, that draw back even to perdition^e, I will wait upon the Lord, [Page 119] that I may renew my strength^a, and so be en­abled to endure to the end^b, that I may re­ceive the end of my faith in the salvation of my soul^c’ If your fears operate thus, they may be a means of preventing the evil, of which you are so apprehensive.

ON the whole, I hope, that when you weigh all I have been saying, and compare it with whatever can be objected against it, you will be convinced of your duty, and engaged to an immediate compli­ance with it. I have enlarged so copiously on these things, that, in the last place.

III. I CAN only mention two or three inferenc­es, which will naturally arise from what I have been laying before you.

From hence we might infer, that great care ought to be taken to instruct youth in the princi­ples of religion; that they may not be destitute of such an acquaintance with them, as is one necessary part of preparation for this ordinance, though far from being alone sufficient.

WE may also infer, that more aged christians ought carefully to cultivate serious impressions, which may be made on the minds of their children, servants, and others of the rising generation, that they may be engaged to an early compliance with their duty; while, on the other hand, great care ought surely to be taken, that there be nothing ri­gorous and severe in the terms of admission, which may bear hard upon that modesty and tenderness of spirit, which is generally to be found in young christians, and most eminently in those of the most hopeful and amiable characters.

[Page 120] As for those of a more advanced age, who have lived in the neglect of this great and excellent in­stitution, I hope they have long before this infer­red the guilt and folly of their omission, which so evidently appears from all I have been saying, and it is attended with many other aggravations, which my time will not now permit me to mention.

I SHALL therefore conclude with observing, that those young persons, who, through grace, have been convinced of their duty in this instance, and brought to an early compliance with it, have abun­dant reason to reflect upon it with pleasure and thankfulness. I think it is one of the most impor­tant blessings of my life, that there are many such in the church here; many who, through the divine goodness, have lately been added to it. It would not be easy for me, my dear brethren and friends, to say how great pleasure your presence and society adds to my sacrament-days; or what a delightful prospect it gives me, not only as to the comfort of my own more advanced age, but as to the support of religion here, when I am no longer amongst you. I, and our more aged friends, have reason to re­joice on this occasion; but surely you yourselves have much greater reason. Permit me to remind you, that it will be a most proper expression of your thankfulness, to labour with the utmost care to engage other young persons, your brethren and companions, to come and share with you in this feast. I hope, your own experience of the plea­sure, and advantage which attends it, may be add­ed to the other arguments I have been pleading. As for your own conduct, let me most affection­ately intreat, and most solemnly charge you, not only by all other arguments, but by your sacramen­tal vows; by the eyes of God, and of man, that are upon you; by all our expectations from you, and all your engagements to us; that as you have [Page 121] received Christ Jesus the Lord, so you would walk in him^a. And may almighty grace strengthen and quicken you in your progress; and crown that fair morning, which is opening upon us in so hope­ful, in so delightful a manner, with a long, a bright, and a prosperous day! AMEN.

SERMON V.
THE ORPHAN'S HOPE.

THERE are few precepts of the gospel, which will appear more easy to a humane and a ge­rous mind, than that, in which we are required to weep with them that weep^a. And surely there are few circumstances of private life, which will more readily command our mournful sympathy, than those of that afflicted family, to the poor re­mains of which you will naturally, on the first hear­ing of these words, direct your thoughts, and, per­haps, your eyes to. The circumstances, of a fa­mily, which God hath broken with breach upon breach^b; of those distressed children, whose fa­ther and mother have forsaken them, almost at once; and who have since been visited with another stroke, [Page 123] which, if alone, had been very grievous, and when added to such a weight of former sorrows, is I fear, almost insupportable.

I BELIEVE all of you, who are acquainted with the case sincerely pity them, and wish their relief; but I am under some peculiar obligations to desire and attempt it; not only on account of my public character, but as I know the heart of an orphan, having myself been deprived of both my parents, at an age, in which it might reasonably be supposed a child should be most sensible of such a loss. I cannot recollect any scripture, which was then more comfortable, as I think none could have been more suitable to me, than this which is now be­fore us; and I the rather chuse to insist upon it, as it will naturally lead me into some reflections, which I hope, by the divine blessing, may be of general use. "When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."

As for the Psalm from whence these words are taken, we are told in the title, that it was compos­ed by David, but are left to conjecture to the par­ticular occasion of it. Dr. Patrick refers it to the latter end of his time, and to the combat that he had with the Philistines in his declining age; when we are told, that David waxed faint, and was in great danger of being killed by a giant, if Abi­shal, the brother of Joab, had not seasonably res­cued him; upon which it is added, that his sub­jects sware, He should no more go out to battle, lest he should quench the light of Israel^a. To these words David is suppposed to allude, when he says, The Lord is my light, and my salvation, whom shall I fear?—Mine enemies come upon me to eat up my flesh;—and I had fainted, unless I had believed^b. But I am rather inclined to [Page 124] conjecture, that this Psalm was composed by him in his younger years, when he was under persecu­tion from Saul. There is not a line in it, which doth not agree with this supposition; and there are several verses, which cannot so well be accom­modated to the other; especially the 12th, in which he represents his dangers as arising from false wit­nesses. Now it is not easy to imagine, what mis­cheif they could have done him amongst the Philis­tines who opposed him in a national, rather than a personal quarrel; but he expressly declares else­where, that the lying words of some treacherous persons had exasperated Saul against him^a; and complains of false tongues, in those Psalms, which are, by their title, fixed to this period of his histo­ry^b. I might add, that the words of the text seem to favour this supposition; for David doth not here say, that his father and mother had alrea­dy forsaken him, but only speaks of it as what might happen. Now, as we are elsewhere told, that when David was but a lad, his father was an old man^c, it is very improbable, that both Jesse and his wife should have been living at the time of this Philistine war, when David himself was grown old and feeble.

IF this argument be of weight to six the general occasion of the Psalm, it is proable that this verse may lead us to the particular time of its composure We are told, that when David had taken shelter at Adullam, from th [...] violence of Saul, and had rais­ed a band of [...] for his defence, he conveyed his father and mother to the king of Moab^d, desir­ing that, till providence had brought his affairs to a determination, that prince would shelter them from the fury of Saul, which might otherwise have proved fatal to them, as it had just before done to [Page 125] the priests of the Lord. Perhaps this was the pi­ous reflection of David, about the time his parents were to remove: When my father and mother for­sake me, then the Lord will take me up. As if he should have said, ‘Though an host of my ene­mies be encamping against me, and the nation be rising in arms to oppose me; and though I be forced to dismiss my aged parents, at a time when I have the greatest occasion for their pru­dent advice, and their tender consolations; yet this my comfort, that God is with me. He will supply what I lose in them; he will take me up, and nourish me as his own child, when their parental tenderness can afford me no farther sup­port.’

THE Words will naturally afford us these two plain remarks, which, with the improvement of them, will be the foundation of the present dis­course.

• I. THE dearest of our relatives, and the most valuable of our friends, may possibly forsake us.
• II. When good men are abandoned by their dearest friends, they may find more in God than they have lost in them.—When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.

I. The dearest of our relatives, and the most va­luable of our friends, may possibly forsake us.

YOU see David speaks of it, as at least a sup­portable case, with regard to himself, that not only his followers, his companions, and his breth­ren, but even his father and his mother might for­sake him. All the intimacy of relation, all the endearment of affection, could not secure him from [Page 126] being deserted by them. And this may be our own [...]ase;—our friends may abandon us through their own unkindness,—or God may remove them by the stroke of his providence.

1. OUR dearest friends may abandon us through their own unkindness.

IT is the remarkable saying of one, who had made many serious reflections on th [...] head^*; ‘If you put so much confidence in any friend, as not to consider, that it is possible he may become your enemy, you know man but little, and per­haps may be taught to know him better to your cost.’ Change of circumstances, contrariety [...] interest, our own mistakes, the misrepresentatives of others, and sometimes mere caprice, and incon­stancy of temper, render those indifferent, and per­haps averse to each other, who were [...] united in the bonds of the most [...] friendship. Nay, it is certain, that sometimes an immoderate and ungoverned fondness on both sides, may not only justly provoke God to disappoint our hopes from each other; but may prove, in its natural conse­quences, an occasion of mutual disgust, and per­haps of separation. For, when the mind [...] under this disorder, it contracts a kind of [...]kly peevishness, which turns every tri [...]ing neglect into an offence, and every offence into a crime; so that men find the extremes of love and hatred more nearly connected, than they could once have be­lieved. Sudden fear, will drive away some friends when we are in danger; and a much meaner princi­ple will lead others, who, in better days, have called themselves our friends, to abandon, and, perhaps, to censure u [...], when, we are reduced to [Page 127] low circumstances, and so have the greatest need of their assistance.

Seen is the vanity of human friendship. And I will add, that neither, on the one hand, the sin­cerity of our affection, nor the worth of our cha­racter, nor the [...] of our affairs; nor, on the other hand, the former appearance of goodness in them, nor the highest obligations of gratitude; nor yet, the [...] of blood, or alliance, can secure us from dissappointment in this tender arti­cle. David and Job under the Old Testament, and Paul, and even his blessed master, under the N [...]w, though all such excellent persons, were for­saken, and in several respects injured by their friends▪ nay I may say, as to most of them, by pious friends too. Such treatment therefore may we meat with from ours, even from those to whom we are related in the bonds of nature as well as af­fection.—What union can be more strict and [...], than that of marriage? Yet you know, Job complains, while he was in circumstances which might have drawn tears from the eyes of a stranger, that his wi [...]e seemed to have forgot, not only the tenderness of her sex, and the intimacy of her relation, but even all sense of common humani­ty towards him: My breath, says he, is strange to my wife, though I intreated her for the children's sake of mine own body^a.—From whom could we expect greater tenderness, than from parents to their children, especially from mothers to their in­s [...]nt offspring? Yet God expressly declares, what h [...]s indeed been seen in some amazing instances, that [...] may fail. Can a woman forg [...]t her suck­ing child, that she should not have compassion on the child of her womb? The little tender crea­ture that she has borne in her body, that she has [Page 128] been used to lay in her bosom; the poor innocent, that never offended her, that has all his dependence upon her; whom nature would therefore prompt her most resolutely to defend, most tenderly to che­rish; can she forget it? Yea, they may forget, faith the Lord^a. This strange case may hap­pen; it may happen in repeated instances.—Thus may our dearest friends, and even our parents them­selves, abandon us through their own unkindness. But be they ever so constant and affectionate, it is certain,

2. THEY may be taken away from us by the stroke of divine providence.

WHILST we are in the most delightful manner conversing with our friends, God may bring us into such circumstances, that we shall see ourselves oblig­ed in duty to quit the dearest of them, possibly even contrary to their judgment and advice, as well as their importunate intreaties; or they may see themselves obliged, on the same principles, to quit us; so that we may seldom have the opportunity of seeing each other, and enjoying the pleasure of mu­tual converse.

BUT the severest trial is, when God sees fit to remove them by death. When that awful messen­ger gives the summons, we must part, though ever so desirous of continuing together. None can by any means deliver his brother from going down to the grave, nor give to God a ransom for him^b, though he should offer his own life under that view. Our fathers, where are they^c? And I may add, where are many of our brethren of the same age, and once in the same stations of life with ourselves? What multitudes of them are already re­moved [Page 129] by death! Perhaps, more than are left be­hind. We have followed them to the grave, we have left them in the dust, and their places that knew them, know them no more^a. And if we are not quickly taken ourselves, we must expect, that our breaches will soon be multiplied upon us; and that nothing will remain of those dear crea­tures, whom we now behold with tenderness, and with transport, but a mournful remembrance that we once enjoyed them, and a despair of recovering them again, till we meet in the eternal world.

I WILL only add one very obvious reflection up­on this head, and then proceed to the next.

MAY the dearest of our friends so soon forsake us? Then how careful should we be, that we do not value them too highly, and love them too fondly?

WE find in scripture, that the inconstancy, and the mortality of human nature, are each of them urged as an argument against trusting in man. Thus we are cautioned to take heed every one of his neighbour, and trust not in any brother; for every brother will utterly supplant, and every neighbour will walk with slanders^b. And elsewhere we are bid to cease from man, whose breath is in his nostrils; for wherein is he to be accounted of^c? And how indeed can we reckon on any thing as certain, which is suspended on so uncertain a life? The words of Solomon are applicable to friends, as well as to riches, when he says, Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? for they make them­selves wings, and flee away; often swiftly and irre­coverably, as an eagle towards heaven^d. To [Page 130] set them up as idols therefore, in the place of God, is the readiest way to provoke him to remove or i [...]bitter them: and then our own iniquity in this respect, will correct us^a. Our confident expec­tation from them will increase our perplexity and our shame, if they should [...]orsake us through their own unkindness; our excessive fondness for them will add new pangs to the agonies of a last separa­tion. One way, or other, they will prove broken reeds, that will not only fail and sink under us, but will go into our hand, and pi [...]rce it^b with a wound, which will be deep and painful, in proporti­on to the stress with which we have [...] upon them. On the whole, then, let us love our friends heartily, but let us love them cautiously, as change­able, and as mortal creatures: and, from a conviction that it is possible they may forsake [...] let us make it our greatest care to secure an interest in such consolations, as may be a support to us when they do. Which leads me to the second observati­on:

II. THAT when good m [...]n are abandoned by their dearest friends, they may find more in God than they have lost in them.

So David, in the text, declares his assurance, that when his father and his mother [...] him, then the Lord [...] take him up; i. e. would ap­prove himself a friend and a father to him. And if we [...] indeed, we may promise our­selves, all that tenderness and [...] him, which David, and other saints [...] old, expected and found. He hath said to every one of us, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee ( [...]; and for our peculiar [...]pport under the loss of the dearest and most use­ful [Page 131] relatives, he has more particularly added, it fa­ther of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation^a.

WHEN our friends are dead, we are generally more sensible of their value than we were before: but let the tenderest heart, under the immediate impression of this severe calamity, set itself to paint the character of a departed friend in all its most amiable colours; let it reckon up all the advantag­es, which fondness could have taught it to hope for; and I will answer for it, that all this, and a great deal more, is to be found in God. Let the dejected orphan, that is even now weeping over the dust of a parent, yea, of both its parents, say, what these parents, in the greatest supposable ad­vantages of character and circumstance, could have done for its support, and its consolation; and the complaints of the most pathetic sorrow shall suggest thoughts which may serve, in a great measure, to answer themselves, and to engage the mind joyfully to acquiesce in the divine care, though deserted by the best of parents, or any other friends, however hopeful or useful.

"ALAS," will a dutiful and affectionate child be ready to say, in such a circumstance, ‘do you ask what my parents were? They were my dear­est, my kindest, my most valuable friends:—Their counsels guided me;—their care protected me; their daily converse was the joy of my life;—their tender condolence revived me under my sor­rows;—their liberal bounty supplied my necessi­ties. Is it to be inquired, what they were? Say rather, what were they not? And now they are gone, where must I seek such friends? And how justly may I say, that my dearest comforts [Page 132] and hopes lie buried with their precious re­mains?’

LET us more particularly survey each of these thoughts, and consider, with how much greater ad­vantage each of these particulars is to be found in the paternal care and favour of God.

1. COULD your parents have advised you in dif­ficulties and perplexities? God is much more able to do it.

YOU will perhaps say, ‘Our poor giddy un­practised minds have been hurried with a variety of schemes and projects, and we have soon found ourselves bewildered and lost: but then it has been the greatest pleasure to us to apply to our parents, from whose more advanced age, and rip­er experience, we might well hope for considera­ble assistance. We were sure they would [...] upbraid our ignorance, or despise us for our weakness; but would give us their best advice, with endearing tenderness, and a cordial concern for our welfare.’ I allow, my friends, that if they were wise and good, (which we now suppose,) they were valuable counsellors indeed; and that it was your duty, and your happiness, to use them as such while living, and to use them as such now they are no more. Yet were they ever so prudent, you must still acknowledge they were fallible creatures. They could only form probable conjectures concern­ing the future consequences of things; and as those conjectures were always precarious, so, no doubt, they were sometimes erroneous; and you were, perhaps, in some instances, misled by their mistaken apprehensions. But the only wise God knows the end from the beginning; his views of the most dis­tant futurities are not conjectural, but certain; and his wisdom is far more superior to that of the most [Page 133] sagacious and experienced mortal, than the wisdom of such a mortal can be superior to that of an in­fant. It is he that teaches man knowledge^a, in whatever degree he possesses it. He instructed our parents, that they might instruct us; and he has expressly promised his direction to all those that humbly seek it. The meek will he guide in judg­ment, and the meek will he teach his way^b. You may therefore, according to his own instructi­on and command, cry unto him, My father, thou art the guide of my youth^c; and you will find him such a guide, as can give wisdom to the simple, and to the young man knowledge and discretion.^d.

2. COULD your earthly parents have protected you from injuries? God is much more able to do it.

NATURE has implanted even in irrational animals, such a regard to the safety of their offspring, that many of the most weak and timorous of them be­come strangely couragious in their defence. The little bird, that will at other times sly from every noise and every motion, will hover over her young, when they are assaulted with danger; and, rather than she will forsake them, will share in their ruin. It is easy to perceive the spirit of parents, natural­ly rise on the least injury that is offered to their children, even sometimes when it is only accidental, and undesigned; and all the professed enemies of their children, they of course reckon to be their own. Nor do they only watch over them in their infancy and childhood, to defend them from the many dangers which surround those tender days; [Page 134] but in more advanced years, they are ready to use all their power and their influence, to shelter them from the unworthy usage which they might otherwise ex­pect from an ill natured world: and I own, it is a very melancholy thing for young people to lose such, a guard, at a time when they are most exposed.

BUT surely the defence of the Almighty must be a much juster and nobler confidence. It is amazing to observe, in how condescending a man­ner he expresses his care for the protection of his people. In one place, he says, He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye^a; and else­where, He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust^b; i. e. he shall defend thee, as the bird shelters her little helpless brood, from the assault of any thing that would injure or destroy them. And could we desire a better guard? There are many seasons, when our earthly parents must of necessity be separated from us; and a thousand calamities might overtake and destroy us, even in their presence, while they stood by helpless and amazed: but God is always with his children, and as there is no danger of ours un­seen by him, there can be none, from which he is not able to deliver us. When David was forsaken by his father and mother, and surrounded with a whole army of inhuman enemies, he speaks of this as his comfort, The Lord is my light, and my sal­vation: whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident^c: for in his help I shall be safe, though I stood single against united legions.

[Page 135] 3. DID you hope for agreeable entertainment in the company of our earthly parents? You may expect far nobler pleasure in conversing with God.

I ACKNOWLEDGE there is something peculiarly delightful in the company of a wise, a pious, and an indulgent parent; and I doubt not, but many of us can easily recollect it. Even in our infant-days, when we were fondly prattling to them, we, per­haps, often saw smiles of complacency [...] on their cheeks, and even tears of tenderness and plea­sure rising in their eyes; especially if, with the dawnings of reason, they discovered in our minds, any early impressions of religion: we can perhaps recollect the condescending air with which they talked to us, and the kind caresses which they in­termingled with their discourse. And as he grew up to a [...]iper understanding, we were still more charmed with the company of such parents. We had not only the manly pleasure of rational converse, but there was a mixture of reverence and of grati­tude in our hearts, which much increased the delight. We were assured of their candour towards their chil­dren, and their prejudice in favour of what we might say; and that inspired us with spirit and cheerful­ness. We were encouraged to attempt to please them, because we concluded we might easily do it▪ and the sense we had of the superiority on their parts, made every expression of their kindness so much the more sweet and obliging.

THE loss of such conversation is indeed to b [...] greatly lamented, and it would argue a strange mixture of stupidity and inhumanity to be unaffect­ed with it. But still remember, that though your parents are gone, you are not left entirely [...] for, not to mention other surviving friends, your heavenly father is with you, if it be your prevail­ing [Page 136] desire still to be with him. Though your fa­ther and your mother be removed, and you can no longer go to them, unless it [...]e to [...] over their grave, and to mingle your tears with their [...]; yet you may go to God, and with pleasure pour out your [...] before him. And what you find in him, may give a more transporting exercise to those sweet affections which added a relish to the conver­sation of your earthly parents. The first imper­fect accents of prayer and praise will be a pleasing offering to him. Great and glorious as he is, he will bow down an indulgent ear, through Jesus, your dear elder brother; he will smile upon your souls, and allow you a holy freedom in all the endear­ments of [...]lial converse.

YOUR earthly parents were not always at leisure, nor always in temper to receive your visits; but wherever you are, and whatever you are doing, God's gracious eye is always [...] children; [...] indulgent [...]ar is always open to their addresses. You may come and tell him how heartily you love him, how affectionate a sense you have of his fa­vours, how sincerely you are [...] for his in­terest in th [...] w [...]ld, and how earnestly [...] to advance it▪ how [...] you are sati [...]fied with his [...] care, and [...] to his wi [...]e and [...]. Our Lord intimates▪ [...] with God, [...] he [...].

4. [...] ^{271 272} [Page 137] may you expect from God, if you apply to him under the character of a father.

IT is natural for a child, when any thing grieves it, to go to its parents, and complain to them; and if they cannot redress the grievance, at least they will be ready to condole it. Now we are expressly told in the word of God, that, like as a father pi­tieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him^a: And how much more valuable are the companions of a God, than those of our earth­ly parents could possibly have been! In many [...] theirs was only a mourning pity, and all that they could often do for our relief, was to sit down and weep over us; to afflict themselves with us; and to give us their company in distress: but the com­passions of an almighty God can redress the griev­ances which he commiserates. Be our afflictions ever so many, or ever so great; in sickness and in pain; in the agonies of conscience, or the agonies of death; when parents and other friends are but miserable comforters^b, he alone can support the soul; can s [...]th it into serenity and peace; and can exalt it to the mo [...]t triumphant joy.

5. Could your earthly parents have supplied your wants, [...] have made provision for your future [...]? God is infinitely more able, and ready to do it for his children.

IN our years of infancy, though we had hardly any thing we could call [...], we [...] in this, that our parents [...]ould [...] and sometimes the circumstances [...] such, that their [...] is almost all [...] can wonder, that it is considered as a great [...] [Page 138] of the loss. But surely, when God pro­claims himself a father to the fatherless^a, he in­tends to suggest some encouragement to such help­less orphans as these; and it becomes them to take the comfort of it.

EARTHLY parents may sometimes be so indigent that they cannot, and sometimes so unkind that they will not, relieve their children, at least in such a proportion as their necessities require. But the most high God is the possessor of heaven and earth^b, and his goodness is as extensive as his dominion; we may therefore conclude, that he will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish.^c. There is not one parent in ten thousand so unnatu­ral, as that he could stand by, and see his child pe­rish for hunger, while it was in the power of his hand to relieve him. Now our Lord has taught us to argue thus, if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly father give good things unto them that ask him^d?

God has the estates, and the hearts of all in his hands; and therefore can, with the utmost ease, raise up friends to us in the most abandoned cir­cumstances, who shall act the part of parents to us, and do more for us than they could have done. And it is farther to be remembered, that the bounties of God are far more excellent, than those of any mortal friend could possibly be. Their bounty, be it ever so great, cannot reach beyond the grave; but it is our father's good pleasure to give us a kingdom^e, incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fad [...]th not away^f: in the believing, though distant views of which, we are rich amidst the extremest poverty, and happy in the most miser­able [Page 139] circumstances that can be consistent with such a hope.

You see then, on the whole, how much more the good man may find in God, than he can possibly lose in the most valuable earthly parents.

IT only remains that I conclude the discourse with a few reflections of this second observation.

1. LET us thankfully acknowledge the gracious provision which God has made to support his people under the loss of parents and friends.

WE should bless his name, that he does not leave us to sink under the burden; or at best to collect some uncertain comfort from the precarious conclu­sions of our unassisted reason; but that, through the blood and righteousness of his son, he has giv­en his plain and express promise for the encou­ragement of such inconsiderable and undeserving creatures.

YOU, whose parents are living, ought to be thankful, that God hath provided such reviving cordials for you against the mournful time when they may be taken away.

AND we, who have lost our parents, and have found relief in our extremities, from such decla­rations as these, should recollect it with pleasure, and often repeat our songs of grateful acknowledge­ment.

AND I will farther add, we ought not only to rejoice and to be thankful on our own account, but also on account of those afflicted friends who may receive support from such strong consolations. We pity children that have lost their parents, and it is delightful to see other generous persons rising up to take care of the orphans, and in some respect to make up their loss. But how much more de­lightful [Page 140] it should be to us, to hear an Almighty God proclaiming himself as their great guardian, and saying, that when their father and their mother for­sake them, he will graciously take them up. How should we rejoice, that when we set ourselves to comfort and encourage them, we cannot only ad­vance our own conjuctures, but can thus speak to them in the language of God himself. And indeed this reflection may be applied to all the other pro­mises. We ought to rejoice, that our pious friends have an interest in them, and that God hath con­sulted their support and consolation, as well as our own.

And surely, when we are reflecting upon such a promise as this, our affectionate thoughts and prais­es should arise to him, in whom all the promises of God are Yea and Amen^a. It is natural to say ‘whence is it that thou, the holy majesty of hea­ven, wilt appear under such endearing and ten­der characters to sinful mortals! that thou wilt speak of taking them up! of bestowing one gracious look upon them, and much more of ex­tending an arm of mercy to raise them from that helpless condition, in which they naturally lie, like abandoned outcasts! Whence is it that thou wilt take them into thy family now, and into thy kingdom at last?’ (for all this is intimated in this expression). "Lord," may each of us say, ‘I humbly ascribe it to the riches of thy gospel grace. I would declare it to the everlasting ho­nour of Jesus thy son, that it is through him we have received the adoption.’

2. WHAT an engagement should this be to young persons, to ende [...]vour to secure an in­terest in God through Christ▪

[Page 141] YOU must own the consolations, which I have now been representing, to be far from being small^a; and surely, when you consider how soon the best of your mortal friends may fail, you cannot but wish for an interest in them: but you wish it in vain, unless you seek it in the gospel way; unless you deliberately and resolutely chuse God for your fa­ther in Christ, and devote yourselves to them in the bonds of an everlasting covenant. If you refuse this, you have reason to regard hi [...] under the cha­racter of an enemy; and to fear, that when he re­moves your friends, it is in judgment that he visits you with such a blow. Your hearts may justly meditate terror, if this be the [...]ase; especially when your pious parents are taken away. You are then deprived of their prayers, their exhortations, their advices, and their examples; and to seem to be thrown farther out of the way of repentance and reformation. And let me add, that if almigh­ty grace doth not prevent it, the trouble which you now feel, in being separated from such dear rela­tions while you continue on earth, will be the smal­lest part of your unhappiness; for you must final­ly be separated, not only from all the most valuable persons you have ever known here, but, which is infinitely more, from the presence of the blessed God himself; must fall unpitied victims of the di­vine justice, and be delivered over to dwell with your father the devil whose works you have chosen to do^b. And oh! how unutterably dreadful is it to think, that in the awful day, when this sen­tence is to be pronounced and executed upon you, there will not be one friend to plead in your favour! That though your pious parents be then present, yet, in a most terrible sense, father and mother will then forsake you indeed; and, instead of interpos­ing [Page 142] their intreaties for you, will applaud the right­eous vengeance that dooms you as obstinate rebels to eternal death; to those abodes of distinguished misery which are prepared for such as have broke through all the peculiar advantages which will then be found chargeable to your account.

3. LET what I have been saying be considered by parents, as an encouragement cheerfully to leave their religious children in the hands of God, when providence shall see fit to make the separation.

WHEN, through the riches of gospel-grace, a christian parent sees his own eternal concerns so safe in a Redeemer's hands, that he can say, with re­spect to them, I desire to depart^a; yet some­times he feels reluctance mingling itself with the holy desire, when he considers that he must leave his dear children behind him; perhaps in a desti­tute, and always, if they be very young, in a ha­zardous condition. And this thought presses with peculiar weight on the minds of those who have lost the companions of their lives; as, upon their decease, their children will become entirely orphans. But may it not revive you, to hear, that God will be their guardian, if they be willing to chuse him as such? Surely you may be abundantly satisfied with his care. Alas! what were you yourselves, with all your parental tenderness, but instruments which God made use of for conveying some few of his favours to them? And cannot he do that by others which he hath long been doing by you? Dis­trust not his power or his faithfulness; but turn all your anxious care about future events, into a religi­ous concern to do your duty to your children, and, [Page 143] by all the most prudent and affectionate methods of address, to lead them into the early knowledge of God in Christ; that so, through the mercies of an everlasting covenant, they may stand intitled to the special protection of an heavenly father, who can never be separated from them; and who, as he is never unable, will never prove unwilling to help them. Once more;

4. LET distressed orphans have an immediate and frequent recourse to such supporting con­siderations as these;—

Do not allow yourselves to suspect the truth of these exceeding great and precious promises^a, which have now been set before you; and, for your father encouragement, consider in how ma­ny instances they have been confirmed by experi­ence.

THERE are, my friends, I am sure there are, those amongst us this day, who can set their seal to the truth of what has now been spoken; and can say, in the language of the text, that when our father and our mother did both of them forsake us, then the Lord actually took us up, and proved a most gracious parent to us. He supplied the breaches that he had made, and by a train of providence, which we cannot but admire in the review, raised up other friends for us; and, it may be, inspired al­most with the tenderness of parents, persons, who were ever unknown to us, when the last of our pa­rents was taken away. Nay, perhaps, some of us may say, that the death of a valuable parent, which we feared would be our ruin, has proved, in some of its then unthought of consequences, on the whole, a very great mercy to us.

[Page 144] LET such reflections as these encourage you, my young friends, for whose admonition and consola­tion this discourse was peculiarly intended, to hope, that as your afflictions are the same, your consola­tions will also be the same. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid^a. Your father and mother are dead, but your heavenly father can never die. I would willingly hope, that it has been your early care to secure an interest in him; and I would solemnly char [...] it upon you, as you value your present peace or your eternal happiness, that it be the great business of your life to keep close to him; and then you may assure yourselves with the most cheerful confidence, that he will never fail nor forsake you^b.

IF therefore your hearts are almost overwhelmed within you, in the melancholy circumstances into which his providence has brought you, fly into his presence, prostrat yourselves before him with hum­ble importunity, and turn your tears of sorrow in­to tears of devotion.

"BEHOLD, Oh most compassionate father," may you reasonably and confidently say, ‘Behold thou hast plunged me even into the depths of dis­tress; but blessed be thy name, thou hast not left me to sink in them, without any support. I have this day received some kind assurances from thy word, and I now entreat thee to remember that word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caus­ed me to hope^c. My father and my mother have forsaken me: Lord, wilt thou not take me up? Wilt thou indeed abandon me? Wilt thou add affliction to the afflicted? The insupportable affliction of seeing myself deserted by thee, when I most evidently need thy succour? That be far from thee, Oh Lord! and be the unworthy suspi­cion [Page 145] far from me!—I have lost my most prudent and faithful counsellors, but I look unto thee, as the guide of my youth▪—I have lost those who were once my guardians and protectors; but I am come to take shelter under the shadow of thy wings. Their eyes are closed, and their mouths are seal­ed up in death: no longer can they look with compassion on my sorrows; no longer can their converse cheer or delight me. Oh! may thy compassionate eye regard me, and thy comforts delight my soul! Permit me, oh God! an humble freedom in approaching to thee, and in pouring forth all my heart in thy presence. My parents are now returned naked to their dust, and, should my wants be ever so pressing, are now incapable of shewing me any relief. May thy rich bounty supply me, thy unweari­ed providence take care of me! But, above all, with-hold not thy covenant blessings, and let me share in that eternal inheritance which thou hast prepared for all thy children in Christ.’

IF these be the daily breathings of your souls before him, you have abundant reason to hope, that he will return an answer of peace. In all your difficulties be will wisely direct you; in all your sorrows he will compassionately relieve you; in all your dangers he will powerfully protect you; in all your wants he will bountifully supply you; in a word, you will be conducted safely, and I hope, not­withstanding this gloomy prospect, you will be conducted comfortably, through this mortal life, till you come at length to your father's house in peace^a. And when you are arrived thither, and take a view of all the various occurrences of the way, you will see [...] reason to acknowledge, what is now so difficult to believe, that the present awful [Page 146] dispensation was sent with a gracious design, and that all the paths of your heavenly father have been mercy and truth to you^a. Amen.

SERMON VI.
THE REFLECTIONS OF A PIOUS PARENT ON THE DEATH OF A WICKED CHILD CONSI­DERED AND IMPROVED.

AS the providence of God calls me this day particularly to address myself to young per­sons, so the words I have been reading suggest some [...] awful thoughts, which are well suited to such an occasion. And there is one circumstance relat­ing to this discourse which I cannot forbear ment [...] ­o [...]ng to you, because I hope it may be a means [...]f enga [...]ing a more than common attention to it, from the auditory to which I am now speaking^*.

[Page 148] IT is this: The substance of the sermon, which I am now to deliver, was drawn up some time ago, at the desire of your late reverend and worthy pastor Mr. Jennings, and preached to a society of young persons then under his charge^*. The text was [...] by him; and his tender and obliging care to assist his pupils in their first labours, engaged him to draw the plan of the discourse, and to furnish me with several of th [...] most important thoughts, which I am now to offer.

So that, I think, I may properly say, that though your eyes will no more see him, nor your [...]ars any [...] his persuasive voice, which has so fre­quently, and so affectionately, addressed you from this place, yet this day by me, he being dead, yet speaks^a, speaks to you, young persons; to ma­ny of whom, I [...]ea [...], he hath often spoken in vain. Let me, therefore, solemnly charge you, by your veneration for the memory of so excellent a friend, as well as by the authority of God, and the im­portance of your eternal interests, that you give these things a [...]ligent hearing, a serious recollecti­on, and a religious regard. And, indeed, if such a subject, introduced by such a circumstance, will not command them all. I can have very little hopes of impressing you by what I may say in the course of my ordinary ministry amongst you.

THE words of the text are the pathetic lament­ation of good old David, on the death of Absa­lom; a favourite, but wicked son. His pious fa­ther had no doubt given him a religious education; and it is very probable, that, considering the re­markable beauty and gracefulness of his person, he was ready to hope, tha [...] he would be endowed with [Page 149] virtuous and holy dispositions of soul, the corres­ponding beauties of the mind. But these hopes were dreadfully disappointed; for the darling, the beautiful Absalom, proved a murderer and a rebel; he went in unto his father's concubines, in the sight of all Israel^a, and openly attempted to take away the life of him, from whom his own was derived, and by whose indulgence it had been spared, even when forfeited to justice. Yet nevertheless David had such paternal tenderness, as, under all these cry­ing provocations, expressly to order the generals of his army, to deal gently with the young man Absa­lom, for his sake^b. But the righteous venge­ance of God determined it otherwise, and, not with­standing all his father's fond precautions, brought him down to the grave with infamy and blood. He was snatched away by a violent and very terrible death, in the prime of his days, and the very act of his sin; and this was the occasion of those mov­ing words, O my son, Absalom, my son, my son, Absalom! Would God I had died for thee, O Ab­salom, my son, my son!

WE may charitably, and I think very reasonably suppose, that they are not only the expressions of David's natural affection, on the death of a son whom he tenderly loved; but that they arose from the views of that state on which he entered by death, which must certainly be very dreadful; so dreadful, that David, whose eternal interests were secure [...]y the promises of an everlasting covenant, would have been willing even by his own death to have deliver­ed him from such complete and such hopeless ru­in.

IT will be my business from these words.

• [Page 150]I. To consider the reflections which may natu­rally arise in the mind of a pious parent on the death of a wicked child. And,
• II. To draw some inferences from such a sur­vey. Oh! that all, and especially the dege­nerate children of religious parents, would at­tend with a becoming seriousness!

I. I am to consider the reflections which may na­turally arise in the mind of a pious parent, on the death of a wicked child.

I CANNOT pretend to enumerate them all, or to describe them in such pathetick language as a bleed­ing heart will speak itself on so bad an occasion; but probably the chief of them may be such as these;

1. A PIOUS parent will reflect on such an occa­sion, that his expectations from his child have been sadly disappointed in the past course of its life.

PARENTS are apt to flatter themselves with fond hopes from their infant-offspring; they look upon them as the blossoms of future delight and sup­port. They comfort themselves under the other burdens of life, and the additional cares and la­bours which a growing family brings upon them, by looking forward to future years, and anticipat­ing the pleasures hereafter to arise from the duty, gratitude, and usefulness of their children. ‘But alas! will the good may say, Could I have seen what this poor creature would have proved instead of rejoicing in his birth, I should have mourned over it as a calamity to me and my fami­ly. I promised myself other things. My heart trembled for him in the various dangers of infan­cy [Page 151] and childhood. I congratulated myself on his arrival at a more confirmed age. But when I looked that this pleasant plant should have brought forth grapes, behold it brought forth wild grapes^a. Well did Solomon say, A foolish son is a grief to his father, and bitterness to her that bear him^b So, alas, have we found. Oh! how often has our authority been affronted, and our love slighted, for a mere tri­fle? Or when he was treating us better, what a thorn has it been it our very hearts, to think that our child was in a state of spiritual death, and on the borders of that eternal ruin, into which we have reason to fear he is now fallen. So that with regard to what is past, we have cause to say, Blessed, in comparison of us, are the barren, that never bare, and the breasts that never gave suck^c.’ These thoughts will be aggravated, when, in the next place,

2. THE pious parent reflects with concern on fruitless pains he has taken for the reformati­on and conversion of his child.

"He that searches my heart," will the christian say, ‘is witness, that next to its concern for my own salvation, it knows not a more affectionate wish than this, that Christ might be formed in the soul of my children^d. That how little soever of this world I could give them, they might be the children of God, and the heirs of glory. And with relation to this unhappy crea­ture, I was not entirely wanting in such endea­vours as lay in my power. What knowledge in the things of God I myself had, I was willing [Page 152] to communicate to him: I urged them seriously upon him; I frequently reminded him of them; and, to supply the defects of my personal instructi­ons, I put the book of God into his hands, and engaged him in an early and constant attendance on public ordinances. When I saw him wander­ing in the paths of folly and sin, I endeavoured to convince him of the fatal consequences of such courses, and in the most affectionate manner to dissuade him from them. I have again and again urged him to pray for himself; and I have fre­quently been praying for him. I have desired that he might be remembered in our worshipping assemblies; I have borne him on my heart before God in the family and the closet, and God alone knows with what overflowing tenderness. How importunately have I pleaded, and how unwilling have I been to take any denial! But alas! all my prayers and my tears have been like water on the ground; and in all the endeavours I have been using for his conversion and salvation, I have been labouring in vain, and spending my time and my strength for nought^a. Nay, as to him it has proved worse than in vain; for every instruction, and every correction, every reproof, and every prayer, has aggravated his guilt, and increased his misery; so that on the whole, while I thought I was acting the kindest and most af­fectionate part, I was only treasuring up for my child aggravated wrath and damnation.’ But this leads me to add,

3. THAT the pious parent, on such an occasion, cannot but deeply reflect on that state of ever­lasting ruin, into which he has reason to fear that his child is fallen.

[Page 153] "Oh!" will the afflicted christian say, ‘how comparatively light would my sorrows be, if, while I am looking on the breathless corps, and mourning the disappointment of my hopes as to the present life, I could by faith look forward to a world of glory, and see the branch of my fa­mily which is cut off from earth, transplanted thither, and flourishing there: joy would then mingle itself with my parental sorrows, and praises with my tears. But alas! I have reason to appre­hend, it was cut down, that it might be cast into the burnings. On the former supposition I might have comforted myself with the thought of meet­ing my child again, of meeting him on terms of infinite advantage, no more to be separated from him. But now alas! I have not only lost my child for a while, but I have lost him for ever; for the unhappy creature died a stranger to God and Christ, and therefore what can I imagine, but that he is fallen into the hands of divine ven­geance? Overwhelming thought! while he lived, my bowels yearned for him when he was under any affliction; when I saw him struggling with illness and pain, I pitied him, and I wept over him. Oh, how can I bear to think, that he is now tormented in that flame^a, and that God is pouring forth on him the vials of his wrath! Oh! that the blood of the parent could redeem the soul of the child, how willingly, how gladly, would I part with it!—O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would to God I had di­ed for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!’ But once more,

4. THE pious parent cannot but be much distres­sed in such a circumstance as this, at the [Page 154] thoughts of meeting his child at the tribunal of Christ.

"IT would be mournful," may the good man ‘say, to think that I should see him no more; yet, as the matter now stands, even that would be some alleviation of my distress: but the immutable decrees of God forbid it. I know, that when all the dead, small and great, stand before his throne^a, I and my child must appear together there; and oh! what a dreadful interview will it be! when God committed his education to my care, he did, as it were, put his soul into my hands, and at my hands will he require an account of it. And when he comes to make the enquiry, what will the issue be? Will my son accuse me? Or must I be a witness against him? How terrible an office! to bear my testimony for the condem­nation of one whom I tenderly loved, of one, whose [...] I would have died to deliver! I know I shall not dare to interpose in his favour, and plead the cause of my Saviour's enemy; or, if I were so far transported by the fondness of a fa­ther, I should plead in vain. Sooner, much soon­er, would the mountains be removed for me, or the earth carried out of its place^b, than the sentence of Heaven, its final solemn sentence would be repealed. And if it must not be repeal­ed, how shall I bear to hear it pronounced, to see it executed: to hear my own child separated by an everlasting curse from the presence of the Lord; to see the ministers of divine wrath, hur­rying away the helpless creature, and dragging him down to unquenchable burnings? Oh that, if no shelter must be allowed him, God would hide me in the grave till this tremendous scene of [Page 155] his indignation be overpast; left the anguish of a parent mingle itself with the joys of a rising saint, and, to me, overcast the triumphs of the day!’ Hardly can a good man refrain from such sentiments as these, though some of them be dictat­ed by passion, rather than by reason.

AFTER this survey of the reflections, which such a sad event might naturally produce, I would pro­ceed to draw some inferences from it; yet I cannot but delay them for a few moments, in compassion to the sorrows of those pious parents, if any such be amongst us, whose case this has been. Are there any of you, christians, that experimentally know the anguish of such thoughts as these? Any of you, that have thus been mourning over your dead children, when God has on a sudden called them to his bar, with all their follies and sins on their head, without giving you any probable hope, that his grace had first recalled them to himself, and wash­ed their souls in the blood of a Redeemer?

It grieves me, my friends, to have been forced by a sense of duty, as I have now been, so largely to represent a scene which must call up your sor­rows afresh. But permit me to remind you, that, even in this dreadful circumstance, the consolations of God are not small^a. Your hopes in your children have been sadly blasted; but you have hopes in God, your heavenly father which nothing can shake. You have reason to fear, their souls are lost; but it is nothing to you to reflect, that your own are given you as a prey? And that though your house be not so with God, as in this respect you could most affectionately with it, yet he has made with you an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure^b. As to these unhappy [Page 156] creatures who are now lost, you have indeed labour­ed in vain, and spent your strength for nought; but still your work is with the Lord, and your reward with your God^a; and you, like the faithful minister, may hope, that you shall be u [...]to God a sweet savour of Christ not only in them th [...] are saved, but even in them that perish^b. And, as to the final interview, which appears so griev­ous in the prospect, remember, that you are not to carry along with you the fond instincts of nature into a world of perfection and glory. All your passions will then be refined; your will so entirely resolved into the will of God, and your souls so completely satisfied with his presence and his love, that no creature regards will be able to disturb their sacred serenity. You will look on the whole assem­bly of the enemies of God with so deep an appre­hension of the malignity of their character, and of the wisdom and equity of that divine sentence by which they fall, that you will not distinguish any of them from the rest, by the sentiments of a painful compassion. Nor will your concern for those of them, who now lie nearest to your heart, prevent your concurrence in that song of triumph, so pro­per to the solemnities of that awful day: Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou king of saints^c. In the mean time, let the expectation of so happy an improvement in your temper, moderate the ex­cess of your present sorrows; and when they are moderated aright, the remainder of them will be a sadness of the countenance, by which the heart may be made better^d. And now,

[Page 157] II. I PROCEED to draw some inferences from the sad survey we have been taking, of the pious pa­rent's reflections on the death of a wicked child. And hence we may infer,

1. THAT wicked children are acting a very cru­el and unnatural part, while they are expos­ing their pious parents to such reflections as these.

I SAY it with a sorrowful heart, but so it is, that I fear there are several of you, my young friends, who live in the neglect of your own souls, and whose consciences will presently charge it upon you. How soon that awful being, whom you now for­get, may cut off the number of your months in the midst^a, and add you to the number of the dead, you know not; but this is certain, that if you die as you live, and your parents survive the stroke, they will feel the weight of these terrible reflecti­ons; and even now they cannot but fear them. Doubtless, if they be present here their hearts are bleeding whilst I speak, and they are looking upon you with unknown anguish. And does not the thought grieve you, and does it not shame you? Ungrateful creatures! are these your returns for all their bounty for all their tenderness; to be a sword in their bowels, and to pierce their very hearts? Alas, they did not expect such scenes as these, when you hung about them with your infant arms; when you answered their fond smiles, and lisped out the first broken accents of endearment. I wonder how you can bear the thought! I wonder you are not ashamed to be conversing with them daily, and dai­ly receiving new favours from them; while you are behaving in such a manner, that, the better they [Page 158] love you, the more they must be afflicted and terri­fied for you. Oh, that you would have compas­sion on them! or, if this will not move you, oh that you would have compassion on yourselves! for your own interest is still much more nearly con­cerned than theirs. Which leads me to add,

2. WE [...] farther infer, that a dreadful coun­terpart to those reflections will be the portion of the ungodly child.

ALAS, sinners, if your pious parents weep thus for you, how bitterly will you weep for yourselves! for if these things be done in a green tree, what will be done in the dry^a! if they, the children of God, perhaps even then under the smiles of their heavenly father, and in the near views of their own complete salvation, may utter their griefs in such melting accents, what agonies will take hold of your hearts, when you are actually entered on those seats of horror and despair, to which the righteous vengeance of God has doomed you? It is impossible fully to describe them; yet something relating to them we may certainly infer from what has been already said. Give me leave to offer it to your view, if peradventure, through the agency of divine grace, to have heard of these reflections may be the happy means of leading you to escape them.

YOUR parents may reflect ‘on the disappoint­ment of their expectations from you:’ But oh, how heavy will the disappointment of your own hopes and expectations then sit upon your souls! how will you then bear it, sinners, when you see all [Page 159] your enjoyments, and all your prospects blasted in a moment, and irrecoverably lost?

IT is true, you are lifting up your souls unto vanity^a; but these vanities are your all. You pursue them with the utmost vigour and intenseness of mind, and have a great many fond and chimeri­cal schemes for years of pleasure and happiness yet to come. But if God cut you off in the prime of your life, and in the very flower of your hopes, in that day all your thoughts will perish^b. And how will you be confounded to see all the beauti­ful and enchanted scenes that now charm you to the neglect of God and religion, vanish like the sha­dowy glories of a dream, and your souls left nak­ed and destitute upon an inhospitable shore, where, in all your indigence and distress, there will be no eye to pity you, no hand to relieve you!

AND it will be so much the more dreadful, as you will go down to these melancholy regions with your appetites and your passions warm about you, and by frequent indulgence strengthened and inflamed; so that, for want of their proper objects, they will prey upon your heart, and an insatiable thirst will continue, while you will not have one drop of sa­tisfaction or comfort. Nay, I may add, that as, in these unripened days, you have had little experi­ence of the vanities and disappointments of life, and have entertained a great many fond and extra­vagant hopes of what you would never have found in it, your regret, in being cut off from them, will not be in proportion to what they really were, but to what your error and folly imagined them to have been.

YOUR pious parents will reflect upon it with un­utterable anguish! ‘that your souls are for ever [Page 160] lost:’ But how much more sensibly will you yourselves feel it! They, in their present situation on earth can have but a little faint and imperfect no­tion of the horrors of the infernal prison; for to those we may accommodate the language of the apostle on a very different occasion, and say, that neither has eye seen them, nor ear heard them, nor has it entered into the most terrified heart fully to conceive them^a. But how will the change af­fect you, when you are just entered on those realms of woe! when you look round about you, and think, this is my last abode, my only remaining in­heritance? Alas, how will your hearts be over­whelmed, when you compare that place of torment with all the cheerful scenes of the world from whence you came; where you had been surrounded with so many delights; where it had been your chief care to make provision for the flesh^b; and where you had, perhaps, spent your days in mirth, till in a moment you went down to the grave^c! when, instead of the light of the sun, you see nothing but the flames of the divine indignation; when, instead of all that soothed and regaled your senses, you feel the never dying worm, and exchange the gay and agreeable companions that did surround you, for the society of devils and damned spirits!

I APPEAL to your consciences; can your hearts endure, or your hands be strong^d, in such a cir­cumstance as this? You, that are so impatient of every little anxiety of life; you, that cannot bear the fatigues of duty, nor the restraints of religi­on, how will you bear the agonies of damnation? How will you live in those doleful regions, where joy and cheerfulness are everlasting strangers, and [Page 161] nothing remains but weeping and wailing and gnash­ing of teeth^a?

WERE this to be your case only for a thousand or a hundred years, how miserable would you be! but oh, how much more miserable, when you think, that it is an everlasting destruction^b! When your thoughts weary themselves in search of some distant point, where a glimmering of hope may break in upon you, and you go onward, and on­ward, and onward still, and find nothing but black­ness of darkness for ever^c! when you feel your­selves plunged in a boundless ocean of distress, with­out a bottom, and without a shore! ‘Must the smoak of my torments ascend up for ever and ever^d? Must I lie in this infernal prison, till I have paid the uttermost farthing^e Surely then I must bear indignation and wrath, tribula­tion and anguish^f, as long as an immortal soul can sustain it, as an eternal God can inflict it.’

IT is almost insupportable, to think that this should be the case of any of our fellow creatures. How much more insupportable must it then be, to feel that it is your own!

AGAIN, your pious parents will lament ‘that all their kind endeavours for your salvation were in vain:’ But with what aggravated sorrow and despair will you then reflect on those endeavours, and on all the other religious advantages you enjoy­ed!

"ALAS" will you then be ready to say, ‘If there could be any thought of comfort in the midst of this dark gloom of desolation and hor­ror, it would be to transfer the blame of my rain upon another. Oh that I could I say, there was [Page 162] some powerful, arbitrary being, by whose irresist­able hand, I was forcibly borne away, as by a migh­ty torrent, and swept into this burning gulph! Oh that I could say, that I was wicked and mi­serable by a fatal necessity! But there is not a 'wretch, amidst all the rage and blasphemy of such a dwelling as this, who can dare to assert that to have been the case, how much less then can I as­sert it!’

"WHEN I look up," may you justly say, ‘when I look up to yonder seats of unapproachable glo­ry, from whence I am now cast out, as an abomi­nable branch^a, why was not my portion there? Wretch that I am, I was once numbered among the children of the kingdom; I was born in Emmanuel's land; I was educated in a religious family: and oh, my parents and my ministers! how diligently did they instruct me [...] how awful­ly did they admonish me! how tenderly did they expostulate with me! I had indeed line upon line, and precept upon precept^b; and therefore I have now stroke upon stroke, and wound upon wound. The blood of a Redeemer was once offer­ed me as a healing balm, and I despised it; and now it is poured out as a burning corrosive on my bleed­ing soul. I was once lifted up even to the gates of heaven, and now I am cast down to the very centre of hell: I am now looking with envy, and with rage, on the milder torments of Tyre and Sidon, of Sodom and Gomorrah^c.’ There, sinners, thou wilt perhaps curse the compassionate heart, which now is almost sinking under this necessa­ry representation of thy danger, and those unavailing tears, which one or another of us may now be shed­ding, in the distant views of thy ruin.

[Page 163] YET I must add once more, that as your pious parents will tremble ‘at the view of meeting you at the tribunal of God,’ so the thoughts of such an interview must be insupportably dreadful to you.

IF satan now draw you from your allegiance to God, and harden your heart to final impenitency, being partakers of his sins, you will be partakers likewise of his plagues^a, and like him, be reserv­ed in chains of darkness to the judgment of the great day^b. And how will your haughty hearts brook it, when you are to be brought out to that judgment? oh, how often will your anxious, fore­boding thoughts anticipate the shame and horror of that dreadful day!

‘I MUST stand forth, will you then say, I must stand forth before my in [...]xorable judge; my sin and my folly must be publickly proclaimed be­fore the assembled world, and my parents too must be the witnesses of it. But oh, how shall I be able to lift up my face before them, blacken­ed with the marks of guilt and dispair! if I call, will there be any to answer me; or to which of the saints shall I then turn^c? Shall I turn to my parents and entreat them, by all their former tenderness for the children of their bowels, to plead with the judge in my favour, if, perhaps, they may mitigate the rigour of his wrath? Alas, I know him, and myself, and them too well, to expect any such attempt, or to ask any such fa­vour. Will they not rather stand up as swift witness against me^d, and call for an increase of wrath on my guilty head? Will not all their former tenderness be turned into stern and awful severity? Will they not upbraid me with their [Page 164] instructions, their reproofs, their prayers, and their tears; and applaud the triumphs of the di­vine vengeance, in the condemnation of so wick­ed, of so incorrigible a creature?’—With these awful remonstrances I dismiss you, and conclude with a reflection of a more comfortable nature.

3. FROM this survey of the reflections of a pious parent on the death of a wicked child, we may certainly infer, that the parents of reli­gious children have abundant reason of thank­fulness.

They have reason of thankfulness, both as they are free from such melancholy reflections and appre­hensions; and as a foundation is laid of other views, as full of cheerfulness and joy, as these are of ter­ror and distress. My brethren, I congratulate the happiness of those of you, who can say, through grace that God has established his covenant, with you, and with your seed after you, for an everlast­ing covenant, to be a God unto you, and unto them^a. It is the joy of my heart, to think how much it must be the joy of yours, to see your chil­dren walking in the truth^b; and to see them flourishing in the courts of your God^c, as well as growing like olive plants round your own tables^d; to see, that they have not only escaped the grosser corruptions, which are in the world through lust^e, but subscribe with their hand unto the Lord, and surname themselves by the name of Is­rael, his people^f. With what sweet tranquility may you look forward to all the uncertainties of life and death, for yourselves, and for your children, while you have such a joyful persuasion, that you [Page 165] leave them in the hand of your father, and of their father, of your God, and of their God^a!

AND give me leave, on so natural an occasion, to address myself to you, my dear friends, from whom the great sovereign of life has been pleased to take away pious and promising children, by (what we are apt erroneously to call) an immature death. You are ready to say, with a peculiar ac­cent, that you are the persons that have seen afflic­tion^b. The images of those lovely creatures rise in your memory on scuh a hint as this, and croud into your minds afresh. You saw them grow­ing up, and flourishing under you [...] care; growing up, perhaps, to ripeness of years, and flourishing in some remarkable degrees of knowledge and of grace. And you fondly promised yourselves, from what you saw in them, that they would not only have been the comfort and delight of your declin­ing, broken age, but the support and honour of the church, when you were here no more: and now all these pleasing prospects are vanished, all these important hopes are buried with their dear dust.

NAY, perhaps, God hath, in this respect, brok­en you with breach upon breach^c, has taken away one desireable branch of your family after an­other, till all the branches are lopped off, and you stand, like the naked trunks of trees which were once diffusing a thick and extensive shade. Yes, I am aware, there are some of you, that know the peculiar agony, (to all but such as yourselves pro­bably unknown), of following your last child to the grave. I fear, I come [...] near you, and that some of your wounds are bleeding anew. Would the balm of sympathetic tears administer any relief to them, how easy would it be to pour it out in [Page 166] abundance! but, in a case like yours, there is a much more efficacious and sovereign relief.

I AM speaking to christians. You sometimes plead the indications of wisdom and piety, which you discerned in your children as an aggravation of your sorrow for the loss of them; and I ac­knowledge, in one view, they are indeed so: but in another view, how greatly do they extenuate it!

YOU saw them, it may be, when they were un­der a languishing distemper, for some time, as it were, daily dying before your eyes: but did you not likewise see the divine rod and staff comforting them^a! It may be, sometimes to such a degree, that you regretted not so much, that they were go­ing off the stage, as that you were not accompany­ing them in the same way, and with the same spi­rit. You heard their expiring groans, but did you not also hear some songs of praise mingled with them? perhaps, you heard them strengthening their feeble voices, and summoning up all their little re­mainder of spirits, to say, as from their very soul, my flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever^{b *}. And does the recollection afford you no pleasure? or does your pleasure terminate even here?

YOUR dear children are now dead to you; but do you not believe, that they live to God^c, and live with him? What if they had been still continued on earth, answering all your schemes, and possessing all that you intended or desired for them? How low had those services been, and how worthless [Page 167] those possessions, in comparison to the services which they now render, with the riches and glory which they no inherit!

METHINKS it should be, and surely, christians, it sometimes is, matter of rejoicing to you, to reflect, that the desolation of your houses is, in some de­gree, the prosperity and joy of that celestial socie­ty, to which you are more intimately allied, than to any thing here: to think, that your families should have been nurseries for heaven, and that God should have honoured you so far, as already to have taken some of your children to minister around the throne of his glory, and so to be the associates of angels in their highest honour and joy.

AND is it not most delightful to think of meet­ing them again? Had they still survived, the the thoughts of leaving them might have sharpened the pangs of dissolving nature, which now the re­membrance of them may moderate. You had left them in an insnaring, calamitous world; perhaps, some of you had left them in circumstances of dif­ficulty and distress. But now all those aprehensi­ons are over; and what could otherwise have been the stroke of painful separation, will now be the means of ending your separation, and bringing you, once for all, to the embraces of each other. And oh, with what mutual congratulations will the converse be renewed; with what delightful overflowings of parental complacency on one side, and of filial gratitude on the other! how thankful­ly will they forever acknowledge your pious cares and early instructions, to which perhaps, under God, they owe their first religious impressions, and, in some sense, even the [...] present glories! and in the great day of the Lord, with what unutterable trans­ports of holy joy will you stand forth, and say at once, in the most literal and the most sublime sense, [Page 168] Here are We, and the children that our God hath graciously given us^a!

SURELY, when you think of these things, your joys may abundantly counterbalance your sorrows: and I appeal to your own hearts, even in the midst of all this tender distress, whether such a circum­stance as yours, supposing it ever so aggravated, be not much more tolerable, than that, which we have been describing; of a pious parent bewailing the death of a wicked child, or even looking upon him in life and health under the tyranny of Satan, and of sin, and in the probable way to everlasting mi­sery.

AND thus I have finished my meditations on this pathetick and important subject. Let me co [...]clude with my most affectionate prayers to the God and father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the father of mer­cies^b, for all of you to whom the discourse has been address'd.

MAY young ones be brought, by the blessed spi­rit of God, to know, in this their day, the things that belong to their eternal peace^c; that they may apply to Christ for life and salvation, and join themselves to the Lord in an everlasting cove­nant^d! there all our applications to you center; there may all your attendances on our ministrations issue!

MAY those, who have been effectually taught this lesson, who are the joy of parents and mini­sters, and the hopes of the church, as to the rising age, be very deeply sensible of the distinguishing grace of God to them! may they be spared to rise up in the stead of their parents! and may they la­bour with great success, to spread a spirit of seri­ousness [Page 169] amongst their companions, and to maintain it continually in their own souls!

MAY the pious parents of pious children be suit­ably affected with the goodness of God to them and theirs! and may the parents of others be stir­red up, as they value the souls of their children, and their own comfort and repose, to renew those attempts which have hitherto proved unsuccessful, and to exert the most vigorous efforts, for plucking the unhappy creatures, as brands out of the burn­ing^a!

IN a word, may divine grace so co-operate with all, that all of you, according to your different re­lations and characters, may have reason to bless God for those awful thoughts which I have now been laying before you; that such cutting reflec­tions, as I have so largely described, under the for­mer heads, may never be known by one parent or one child in the assembly, otherwise than by descrip­tion, by imagination, by reason and by faith! never may they be known by heart-rending and over­whelming experience! on the contrary, may pa­rents and children be mutually growing joys and comforts to each other, in life and in death, at your appearance before the solemn tribunal of Christ, and throughout all the ages of a glorious eternity! AMEN.

SERMON VII.
YOUTH REMINDED OF APPROACHING JUDG­MENT.

MY dear young friends! if it were possible for me, while I am speaking, to lay open my whole heart before you, in such a manner as that you should be witnesses to every secret senti­ment of it with regard to you, I should do it with a great deal of pleasure. You would see a tender­er concern for your present and everlasting welfare than words can express, and a proportionable desire of approving myself your faithful servant for Jesus sake^a. I know not, how far you may have con­sidered what I have largely laid before you. con­cerning the importance of the rising generation^*; but I am so thoroughly convinced of this import­ance, and so impressed with the conviction of it, that [Page 171] there is no part of my public work, to which I arise with a greater solicitude about the success, than I feel when I am thus particularly applying myself to you; and there are no prayers which I offer to God with greater earnestness, than that I may have the joy to see you walking in the truth^a, a seed to serve the Lord, which shall be accounted to him for a generation^b.

THIS is what I wish, and pray, with regard to all of you. It is with inexpressible pleasure that I see so evidently, as to many, that my prayers and my labours are not in vain. Many of you are my joy now, and I trust, through divine grace, will be my crown, in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at his coming^c. But would to God there were none of whom I had occasion to say, I stand in doubt of you^d! would to God, I could see that spirit of serious piety universally prevailing amongst you, which, wherever it doth prevail in young ones, is such a token of good to themselves, to their friends, and to the church of Christ!

WHERE it is otherwise, I look upon you with compassion and sorrow; but blessed be God, not with despair. I am not without hope, that God hath purposes of love and grace to serve on many of you; especially those who have been the hearers of so many good instructions, and so many prayers as I have reason to believe many of you are; and who can tell, but this is the day, and this the ordi­nance, in which these gracious purposes are to take place!

I KNOW that the first step to your safety is a sense of your danger. We live in a world so full of snares, that the righteous scarcely are saved^e; and yet I fear, some of you have very little appre­hension [Page 172] of this danger, very little concern about the whole armour of God^a, so necessary to pre­serve you from it. And therefore, not to give you any vain and groundless alarm, but to produce, i [...] possible, that holy caution and solicitude of soul, which may be the happy means of your security and preservation, I am now setting myself to discourse on some of the most awful words which are any where in the whole book of God, addressed to persons of your age. I hope you w [...]ll listen to them, and that God will make them as a kind of solemn trumpet, whereby these that are spiritually dead may be awakened; so awakened, as that the other trumpet to which they refer, and which will surely awaken your sleeping [...], may be heard not with sorrow, but with delight.

It is observable, that Solomon had a great regard to young people in his writings; and it is an evi­dence of his wisdom that he had so, for youth is the age of discipline. He therefore gives them line upon line, and precept upon precept. Some­times [...]e [...], and sometimes he rebukes; some­times he [...] them with paternal tenderness, and sometimes persuades them, as knowing the ter­rors of the Lord^b; and saves them as with fear, plucking them out of the fire^c. And this he [...]th in the words I have now been reading; Re­joice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thine [...] in the days of thy youth; and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes. But know thou, that for all th [...]se thing▪ God will [...] thee into judgment.

IT will be my business—to explain, and—to in­force the caution, and then—to conclude with some [...] upon it. May the plain, but awful things I am to deliver, be, as the words of the [...] [Page 173] like goads, to pierce and rouse your minds, and like nails fastened in a sure place by the skilful mas­ter of assemblies^a, which being given out from the one great shepherd, are succeeded by his grace, and improved to his glory!

I. I AM to explain the words I have been read­ing.

AND, in order to fix the sense of them, I shall only observe, that some understand them, as inti­mating Solomon's readiness to allow young people in the innocent pleasures and gaieties of life; whilst others interpret the whole as a solemn and a lively warning of the great danger they were in, of run­ning into the most fatal excess. I shall in a few words give you [...] [...]easons, both why I mention the former, and why I prefer the latter of th [...]se senses.

1. SOME understand these words, as an intima­tion of Solomon's readiness to indulge young people in all the innocent entertainments [...] life.

THEY paraphrase the words in a soft [...] manner as if he had said▪ ‘Do [...] imagine, O [...] young man that I give [...] of morality and piety in a gloomy humour, or with any [...] and unkind design. Far [...] desiring to [...] thee under any unnecessary restraint▪ I [...] [...] ­hort thee to rejoice in the [...] of thy [...] those [...] in which th [...] [...] are [...] lively, and all the powers of [...]. Wear [...] [Page 174] and indulge that gaiety which is so natural to the spring-season of life; so natural, and indeed so decent. Walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes. Seek out every innocent object of amusement: gratify thy genius, thy temper, thy relish, in all the particularities of it; provided only that thou dost still remember thy future account, acknowledging God in thy ways, and guarding against every abuse of his good­ness, every thing that would on the whole be offensive to him, and detrimental to thyself.’

MY brethren, I readily own, that there is no­thing in this paraphrase of the words which is un­becoming the piety and wisdom of the author, and that he has in effect said the same in several passages of this very book. There is hardly a sentiment, which he more frequently repeats than this. There is no­thing, says he, in express words, again and again, there is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of his la­bour^a. It is good and comely for one to eat and drink, and to enjoy the good of all his labour that he taketh under the sun; for it is his portion, and a heart to rejoice in it is the gift of God^b. Go thy way, [...]at thy bread with joy, and drink wine with a merry heart: let thy garments be al­ways white, and thine head lack no ointment^c. And once more; I recommend mirth, because a man hath no better thing under th [...] sun than to eat and drink, and to be merry^d. The sense of which, if we would find a sense worthy of the au­thor, must no doubt be this, ‘that religion is far from forbidding a cheerful use of the enjoyments of life; and that without such a use they are given to the possessor in vain;’ who indeed can [Page 175] otherwise hardly be called the possessor, but rather the steward and purveyor for the next heir, who may perhaps be as profuse, as his predecessor was pernicious and insatiable.

AND I hope you will not imagine, that in what I have farther to say, I intend any thing inconsistent with these observations and advices. To be de­vo [...]t, and to be melancholy, are two very different things; and the greatest enemies of religion could not call it by a more invidious and unjust name, than a walking mournfully before the Lord of hosts^a. Instead therefore of dissuading you from a life of true pleasure, I would rather direct you to it, and only urge you to despise that which is visionary and mean, to secure that which is solid and noble; in a word, to decline no delights which will not inter­f [...]re with others much more valuable, none which will not be mingled with regret, or followed by a lasting anguish, a thousand times than an equiva­lent for them. And so far as these precautions will admit, I will venture to say, even in this sense, Rejoice O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth. Ne­vertheless I am well persuaded this is not, and can­not be, the original sense of the words; and there­fore add,

2. THEY are rather to be understood, as an aw­ful and lively caution to young persons, to be upon their guard against those gratifications whereby conscience might be wounded, and God dishonoured.

I SUPPOSE with the general stream of commen­tators, that the words are an ironical way of ex­pressing, in a more pointed and lively manner, the [Page 176] very contrary to what they seem literally to speak▪ like that speech of Elijah concerning Baal, when he said, Cry aloud, for he is a God^a; or that of Micaiah to Ahab, Go up to Ramoth-Gilead, and prosper^a; or that of our Lord to his disci­ples, Sleep on now, and take your rest^b: to which, I suppose, we may add that saying of God con­cerning Adam after his fall, Behold the man is be­come as one of us, to know good and evil^d. Thus do these words most strongly forbid what they seem to allow, and are as if he had said, ‘Thou poor thoughtless creature, who in this giddy intoxication of youth, art so madly bent upon sensual pleasure, take thy fill of it, and withhold not thine heart from any joy. Follow all the most impetuous appetites of nature, and wantonly bound over every restraint of reason and piety, trample on the admonition of all thy teachers, shake off the fetters of a strict edu­cation, and burst the bonds of religion, like threads of flax when they are touched by the flame. But think not, Oh sinner, that thou shalt always carry it off with that haughty tri­umph; know, that as thou hast thy day, God will also have his: a day of strict account, and of ample recompence. Know, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment; and if thou canst find out no expedient, to conceal thee from an all-seeing eye, or to defend thee from an omnipotent hand, a deluge of wrath will bear thee away to everlasting destruction. Dear­ly shalt thou then pay for every present indulg­ence, and every sweet morsel shall then be turned bitter, and be as the gall of asps, within thee.’

[Page 177] THIS, I say, appears to be the evident meaning of these words. And that for this plain reason; that some of the phrases made use of, are such as are never taken in a good sense, and therefore can­not admit the former interpretation. Solomon doth indeed, as you have heard, exhort his readers to eat and drink, and enjoy the good of their la­bours; but where can you find him, or any other sacred writer, exhorting or allowing men to walk in the way of their heart, and in the sight of their eyes? I am sure, that phrase generally signifies an indulgence to the irregularities of appetite and pas­sion, in the neglect of reason and of scripture. Thus the Israelites are charged to wear fringes on their garments^a, that they might remember all the commandments of the Lord, and do them; and might not seek after their own heart, and their own eyes; that is, (as it follows,) that they might not go a whoring from God after those gay and luxu­rious idolatries, which regaled the senses, while they debauched the soul. And thus the wicked Israelite, whom God would separate to evil out of all the tribes, is represented as vainly and arrogant­ly saying^b, I shall have peace, though I walk in the imagination of mine heart: (that is, as it fol­lows,) to add drunkeness to thirst, or one riot to another. And once more; to judge after the sight of the eyes^c, is a proverbial expression, to sig­nify partial and corrupt judgment. We have no reason therefore to imagine, that Solomon would vary the signification of a phrase already so express­ly [...] in some of [...] sacred writings, which he was himself obliged not only to read, but to trans­cribe^d, as he undoubtedly did on his accession to the throne; where he had also read it again and [Page 178] again, that the imagination of man's heart is only evil from his youth^a; and he had himself else­where said, that foolishness is so closely bound up in the heart of a child, that not only words of ad­monition, but the rod of correction is necessary to drive it away^b. To these general remarks on the usual signification of the phrases occuring here, we may also farther add, that the connection of these words would lead us to understand them as an ironical rather than a serious concession, since they conclude with what seems a very awful menace. But know thou that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment: as he should have said, "Assure thyself thou must answer for all." Which sense is farther illustrated by what follows in the last verse of this, and the first of the next chapter, [which are very unhappily divided from each other, [...] [...]veral other passages are, which have a very cl [...]se and necessary connection;] Therefore remove sorrow from thy heart, (i e. the regret which would follow these sensual indulgences, if thou walk in the way of it), and put away evil from thy flesh, (i. e. those carnal pleasures which religion forbids, or those punishments they would certainly draw down upon thee); for childhood and youth are vanity; and remember now thy creator in the days of thy youth^c instead of sacrificing them to vani­ty and folly. You easily see there is a beautiful and lively opposition between the several parts of the period on this interpretation, which on the other must be much injured, if not intirely destroy­ed.

I WOULD farther observe, that the judgment, to which Solomon here refers, must undoubtedly be that of a future state; since he had expressly as­serted [Page 179] above, that here all things come alike to all; and no man knoweth either love or hatred, (i. e. the favour or displeasure of the Divine Being), by all that is, before them^a. That there is a wicked man to whom it happeneth according to the event of the righteous; and, on the other hand, many a righteous man to whom it happeneth according to the event of the wicked^b, i. e. that very bad men often prolong their live through a long series of prosperity, while good men are cut off by an untimely stroke, or linger out their days in a pain­ful succession of sorrows. This led him to con­clude, Surely God will judge the righteous and the wicked^c; which in many of these cases could only be done in some invisible state, to which both should be reserved. And of this judgment he solemnly warns the young sinner, as a most power­ful antidote against the baits of sensuality; as an awful thought, which might six the most roving eye, and be a means of reducing the most ungov­erned heart to the dicipline of wisdom and pie­ty.

As I conclude that this sense of the words is now sufficiently illustrated and established, I pro­ceed,

II. To inforce the admonition by such consider­ations, as are expressly suggested in the text, or may naturally arise from it.

I IMPORTUNATELY beg your serious attention: for I say not these things, either to grieve, or to shame you, but as my beloved brethren and chil­dren, I warn you^d. And here let me prevail [Page 180] upon you to consider, the depravation and corrup­tion of your own hearts, the many delusive charms which are continually offering themselves to your eyes:—Consider, that the blessed God is now the spectator of your conduct, that he will certainly bring you to an account for it, an account which will be inexpressibly strict and awful. These are the arguments, which I shall more largely inforce; and if they make no deep impressions on your mind, there is the utmost reason to fear, that you will go on hardened in your evil ways, till you actually come to that tribunal which you now forget or des­pise.

1. THINK of the depravation and corruption of your own hearts, to deter you from walking in the ways of them.

THE heart of man is described by that God, who alone perfectly knows it, as deceitful above all things, and desparately wicked^a. The imagi­nation of it is, by him, said to be only evil, and that continually^b. It is a very sad truth, though perhaps you have never seriously considered it, that a degenerate and corrupted nature is conveyed down from one generation of men to another, so as still to leave room—for that expostulation of Job, What is man that he should be pure, and how can he be clean that is born of a woman^c!—for that confession of David, Behold, I was shapen in ini­quity, and in sin did my mother conceive me^d! for that declaration of the Apostle, whether in his own name, or that of another, In me, that is, in my flesh, there dwelleth no good thing^e. If you know not the plague of your own heart^f, it is [Page 181] a plain argument that you know little of God, or yourselves; and you had need be seriously reminded it, lest, with Solomon's fool, you should trust it^a, and the blind lead the blind, till you fall into the pit of destruction^b.

Do you not know the degeneracy and corrupti­on of your own hearts? I beseech you to review what has passed there: think of the advantages which you have enjoyed for knowing and serving God; of all the mercies you have received, of all the instruc­tions you have heard, of all the convictions you have sometimes felt, and of all the good resolutions you have probably formed in consequence of them. And then think, how little all this hath produced, how you have forgotten God, days and times with­out number^c, and started back from him like a deceitful bow^d; how you have been delivered over, in a foolish circle, from one vanity to another, wearied with the pursuit of trifles, and yet rising, after a little respite, to pursue them again. Think, my friends, how you have overborne the dictates of your own consciences, and grieve the Holy Spi­rit of God, when he hath been pleading with you in a most importunate manner, and saying unto you, Oh, do not this abominable thing that I [...] ^e. Yet you have done it, and sacrificed the re­pose of your own minds, and the hopes of glory, to the mean, vile considerations, which you would be ashamed to hear mentioned before an assembly, And this not in one instance, but again and again. You have formed good purposes, and broken them? and formed them again, and broken them again; and run such a round of folly and sin, that I am per­suaded many of you could not have suspected your­selves of such a conduct some time ago, nor have [Page 182] believed, if one had told you, that you should act such a part. And must these treacherous hearts still be trusted, and will you still go on to walk in the ways of them; when they have already led you into so much sin, when they have already plunged you into so much distress?

2. THINK how many delusive charms are daily offering themselves to your eyes, that you may not heedlessly walk in the sight of them.

REMEMBER, sirs, I beseech you, that you are in a very dangerous situation, and walk among snares. The most mortal poisons are often mingled with the sweetest dainties, and the most dangerous enemies of our souls accost us in the fairest forms. The fruit which undid our common mother, and brought death and a curse upon us all, was a fruit which ap­peared to be good for food, and which she saw to be pleasant to the eyes^a.

IT is an awakening saying of one of the most lively and pathetick, as well as of the most pious writers which our age has produced^*, ‘That the condition of man in his natural state seems to be like that of a person sick of a variety of diseases, knowing neither his distemper nor cure, but un­happily inclosed in a place where he could hear, or see, or taste, or feel nothing, but what tended to inflame his disorder.’

NOT that the world in its original constitution, and [...]sidered as the work of God, is by any means to be blamed. The whole system of it is such, as would lead a regular mind to wise and pious reflec­tions; and its most pleasurable scenes would be the natural occasion of exciting correspondent gratitude and devotion to the great author of every good and [Page 183] perfect gift^a. But our souls being corrupted, those things become dangerous to us, which might otherwise have been innocent, and even beneficial; as some of the most wholesome and nourishing foods are fatal to a person inflamed with a raging fever.

I AM persuaded, that nothing is so like to make us truly wise, as observations on fact: let me there­fore beseech you, my young friends, seriously to consider how many, within the compass of your own knowledge, have been ruined by the blandish­ments of the senses; and, perhaps, some of them persons in other respects, of no contemptible cha­racters. We may indeed say of the world, that specious harlot, She hath cast down many wound­ed, and many strong men have been s [...]ain by her^b. Do not, therefore, walk in the sight of your eyes, lest you also be like the bird, that, struck with some gay promising appearance, hasteneth eagerly t [...] the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life^c. But endeavour to open the eye of the mind, and by faith to behold the great realities of the invisible world, that you may govern your lives with a re­gard to them, and so secure, not the deceitful forms, but the substance of true happiness.

3. LET me seriously remind you that the bles­sed God is the spectator of all your con­duct.

THIS is strongly implied though it be not ex­pressed in the text: for all these things God will bring thee into judgment; and you cannot surely imagine, that he is like earthly judges, who must have recourse to witnesses, to inform them of what they would otherwise be ignorant of. He is not, [Page 184] he cannot be, far from any one of us, seeing in him we live, and move, and have our being^a. Nor can we be concealed from his eye, should we fly on the wings of the morning, and with the swiftness of light, to the uttermost ends of the earth: for his hand must lead us thither, and his right hand support us there^b. Remember this, my young friends, he sees you when you overlook him, sees himself neglected by you, and his laws violated, and his grace despised: And all for what? You have reason to blush and be confounded, when you think of that: for every vanity that offers it­self to your pursuit, for trifles lighter than air, for which you would not violate the common rules of decency to a fellow creature. As if it were to be taken for granted, that his favour is a thing of no consequence, or that nothing can forfeit it. Oh, sirs, he hears me while I am speaking to you; and sees, perhaps, that some of you hardly give me an attentive hearing. He observes, how many admonitions are despised by you, how many convictions are overborne, how many vows are broken, how many vain words are spoken to him, in those formalities which you call your devotions; and, perhaps, with regard to some of you, I may add, how many bold words are spoken against him, when those mo [...]ths are set against the heavens, whose tongues ha [...]e walked through the earth^c. All those [...]lights of religion, which, (for want of understanding [...] you may be ready to call wit; all that licentious contempt which you throw on his sacred word and ordinances, and fancy it is freedom of thought. You may go on, and presume upon i [...], that your lips are your own^d; but I must tell you, that the Lord hearkens and hears, and a [Page 185] book of remembrance^a is written for you like­wi [...]e;—a book, which will another day be thrown open, and read to you with a voice of vengeance and terror; which leads me to urge you,

4. To think how certain the judgment of God is, and your own personal appearance before him.

YOU know, there is not any doctrine of the gos­pel more plain and evident than this, That eve­ry one of us must give an account of himself to God^b; and indeed it was a doctrine of the Jewish revelation, and even of the wiser heathens: but I would desire you particularly to observe, how strongly it is expressed in the words of the text, Know thou, that God will bring thee into judg­ment! Thee, O young man, thee, O child, who­ever thou art that hearest me this day, to thee is the word of this admonition sent, God will bring thee into judgment. His trumpet will sound, his tri­bunal will set; thou wilt be summoned, and thou must obey. In [...]ain will be every attempt to con­ceal thyself, or to excuse or dispute an immediate attendance. He will bring thee: his hand will be strong upon thee^c, infinitely too strong for thy feeble resistance. And therefore the assembly of the whole world before him is beautifully described, by driving together a flock of sheep or of goats^d. Bear witness, Oh sinner, and let thy conscience re­cord it, I warn thee of this solemn, this dreadful day. I tell thee, that as surely as thou art now in the house of God, thou shall then be standing be­fore his bar. And how will you stand? Look you to that. We are to give the warning, and know­ing [Page 186] the terrors of the Lord, are to persuade men^a, Hear now therefore this admonition for yourselves, and know it for your good^b. Con­sider this, ye that forget God, lest he tear you in places, and there be none to deliver^c. And to increase the weight and essicacy of the thought, re­flect, once more,

5. How strict and awful this judgment will be▪ For all these things God will bring thee into judgment; which naturally implies, that it will be particular and final.

EVERY particular will be reviewed. All these things; or, as is it yet more strongly expressed elsewhere, every work, and every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil^d. He hath sworn by himself, that he will not forget any of thy works^e. Poor thoughtless creatures! you sometimes conceal your irregularities from pa­rents and masters, or others to whom you are ac­countable; you disguise them in so artful a manner, or form such excuses for them as may impose upon men: and you value yourselves on the dexterity with which you do it. But be not deceived, God cannot be thus mocked^f. For all these things, and a thousand times more than you can remember; actions and words, and thoughts of vanity, which passed with you unobserved in the crowd, or, if at all observed, were forgotten in a moment; for all these, will be reprove thee, and set them in order before thine eyes^g, i. e. He will marshal them in dreadful array, as a ho [...] of enemies armed for thy destruction. Have you never seen a criminal [Page 187] at the bar, how he is confounded, when the force of evidence bears him down, and the sagacity of a judge detects the idle, foolish pleas, with which he flattered himself before him trial, and imagined he should easily come off with impunity? Then did you see an emblem of yourselves, and your own state; thus will you, if you go on in your sins, be entangled and silenced, and ashamed and condemn­ed. All your crimes will be produced, in all their circumstances of aggravation. Nor will God for­get this present admonition and expostulation, though you may forget it, or though you should remember it only in scorn, and wonder what oc­casion there is for all this earnestness and importu­nity. You may, if you please, make a jest of di­vine judgment; but you will find it dreadfully se­rious. Nothing so easy, as to despise it; but, oh sinner, nothing so hard, as to endure it: for I add,

IT will be a final doom, and your eternal [...] will be fixed by it. It is no light crime of [...] you will then be convicted, no less than wilful, ob­stinate, incorrigible rebellion against the majesty of heaven, against the God of your lives, and the fa­ther of all your mercies; and it will be no light punishment to which you will be consigned, for following the way of your heart, and the sight of your eyes, in opposition to all the authority of his law, and all the methods of his recovering grace.

READ [...]ver the sentence, as recorded from the lips of him by whom it is to be pronounced. There is but one for those on the left hand, and hearken to it: depart from me, ye cursed:—sinner, thou must be separated from God. But that per­haps you can bear: it is but calling him by some bold name; it is but dressing him up in your ima­gination under some false odious character, and you [Page 188] may perhaps think it is best to be at a distance from him. Wretched creature! but thou must depart, as accursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels^a. And canst thou reconcile thy mind to that? To dwell for ever in darkness and horror, in such a scene, and with such associ­ates! to have nothing to entertain the eye, nothing to cheer the heart, nothing to divert painful reflec­tion, nothing to allay the most cutting remorse; to see every pleasurable object, for which you for­got God, and sold yourselves to destruction, re­moved to an eternal distance; to feel all the irregu­lar passions of your own hearts let loose at once, like so many hungry vultures to prey insatiably up­on them; and hope, the last of supports under the last of evils, shut out for ever!—oh sirs, this is the result of the judgment of God. Lo, this is the portion of the wicked, and this the heritage ap­pointed to him by God^b. It is a grief to a tender heart to think of it, to hear the very re­port. Oh what will it be to you to meet it and feel it, in all its force and all its terror! can your heart endure, or can your hands be strong, in the day, that God shall deal with you^c?

ALAS, my heart is pained for you, and my bow­els yearn over you! methinks I see all the haugh­tiness of your spirits broken, see you pale and trembling on the very brink of that pit, from whence there is no redemption, and into which the staming sword of divine justice is driving you. And can nothing be done to save you? Alas, what should be done? Can any rescue you from the hand of Omnipotence? Can any intercede for you with that then inexorable judge? It cannot be. But he is not yet inexorable. He has not yet laid aside [Page 189] the character of a Saviour, of a compassionate friend to perishing creatures. And I present these things to persuade you, if possible, in this your day, to know the things that belong to your peace, before they be forever hid from your eyes^a. May di­vine grace effectually do it; and teach you so to judge yourselves, that you may not then be con­demned of the Lord^b! and now,

III. IT only remains, that I conclude the dis­course with some plain inferences from it. And here,

1. THE young sinner has surely a great deal of reason to be thankful, that he hath not already been brought into judgment.

You have indeed the greatest cause to say, it is of the Lord's mercy, that you are not consumed^a, your breath is in your nostrils^b; and per­haps you can recollect times and circumstances, in which it seemed just ready to take its flight, when you appeared to be in the extremest danger, so that there was but a step between you and death^c. And what if that little interval had been passed! where had you then been▪ how low had you then fallen? Why it is most certain, as to some of you, that had you [...] out off, the torrent had swept you away into eternal ruin. Even n [...]w, while we are worshipping God in his horse, rejoicing in mercy and in hope, your miserable spirits had been in the regions of the damned, [...]eeling more than mor­tal language can express, and fearing yet more, much more than you felt; being, like the apostate angels, reserved in everlasting chains, under darkness, unto [Page 190] the judgment of the great day^a. Adore the di­vine patience and forbearance, that your case is so different; for most happily different it is. I have the pleasure to testify to you this day, in the midst of these terrible things which faithfulness to your souls extorts from me, that the Lord waiteth that he may be gracious, and does, as it were, raise himself u [...] that he may have mercy upon you^b: he rises from his throne to stretch out the golden sceptre to you, to open his compassionate arms to embrace you, if you approach him as humble penitents. Jesus the judge will become your friend; he will receive you, he will shelter you and bless you; if, with believing hearts you seek his mercy, after having so long dar­ed his vengeance. This day do I testify, that he is ready to bestow upon you far more valuable plea­sures than those which he calls you to resign, and to give you much greater satisfaction in contradict­ing the corruptions of your heart, and controlling the impulse of your senses than you ever have found, or could possibly find, in gratifying them. May you be persuaded to the wise and happy exchange! then will the patience of God be salvation to you, when his goodness leads you to repentance.

2. THE young christian hath apparent reason to be thankful for that grace, which hath sancti­fied his heart, and turned away his eyes from beholding vanity.

MY brethren in the Lord! permit me to remind you, that you were sometimes foolish and disobedi­ent, serving divers lusts and pleasures^c: but there is now room for us to congratulate you, and say, blessed are your eyes, for they see: and your ears, [Page 191] for they hear^a. You now know your true in­terest; the fear of the Lord is implanted in your heart, and your eyes are directed heavenwards. You are experimentally acquainted with the plea­sure which religion brings, and see that you have exchanged your tinsel for gold; your shadows for the most valuable substance; the momentary blaze and crackling of thorns^b, for the steady light, and influence, and glory of the sun, which is shin­ing more and more unto the perfect day^c.

LET me invite you to the most cheerful acknow­ledgments of the riches of divine grace to you. Bless God for the new nature he hath given you, for that heart of flesh^d into which the rock is transformed by a new creating power; for those new hopes which he hath opened upon you. Bless him, that you are now sheltered from the storms of divine wrath, and that, instead of looking forward to the judgment day, with the horrors of a male­factor, who is then to be condemned and executed, you are rather lifting up your heads to meet the prospect with triumph, as knowing that your com­plete salvation will then be manifested, and your re­demption be perfected^e.

3. WE may farther infer, from what we have now been hearing, that the gospel of the blessed Jesus gives us very great advantages for reclaiming young persons from the snares of sensuality and ruin.

THE text abundantly intimates the importance of those considerations, which are taken from the final judgment. Now it is certain, the gospel dis­covers this in the strongest light. Therein is the [Page 192] wrath of God revealed against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men^a; and some more aw­ful views of judgment are given, than even the language of the prophets, emphatical as it is, can furnish out. In the gospel, we are not only told in general, that God will judge the world in righte­ousness, but particularly assured, that he will do it by that man whom he hath appointed^b, even the Lord Jesus Christ, who for that purpose shall descend from heaven, in his own glory, and the glory of the father, and all the holy angels with him^c; that the trumpet shall found, and the dead shall be raised^d; that small and great shall stand before God^e; while in the mean time the world is in flames around them, the sun being darkened, and the moon not giving her light^f, the stars falling^g, the heavens passing away with a great noise, the elements melting with fervent heat, the earth with all things in it being burnt up^h, and de­parting out of its placeⁱ. And can any thing be more awakening and awful than all this pomp of horror, this conflagration and confusion of nature? Yes, sirs, there is one thing yet more awakening; and it is that which the gospel expressly pronoun­ces, that, in consequence of all, the wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment, and the righte­ous into life eternal^k. ETERNITY, eternity, my brethren, is the declaration of the gospel. Nature might lead us to suspect it, the law might give some intimation of it, but the gospel alone asserts it; and not only asserts it, but describes it too. It lends to our faith that perspective by which we [...] the paradise of God, and it lays [...] open before [Page 193] us, so that destruction hath no covering^a. The christian preacher may then say it, with an energy beyond what Solomon could conceive, merely on the principles of the Jewish revelation, Rejoice, oh young man, in thy youth, &c. but know thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment.

NOR must I by any means omit that grand ad­vantage which the gospel gives us in these address­es, by the discovery of the blessed Jesus under the character of a Saviour. It displays him as the chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely; as inviting, as waiting, as pleading, as weeping over sinners, yea, as bleeding and dying for them: as describing the terrors of judgment, that he may awaken them to slee from it, and may gather them, as a hen gathers her chickens under its compassion­ate protecting wings^b. But is this a simile that we may use, when speaking of him who is to ap­pear under the character of ‘the worthy judge eternal?’ Yes, my friends, low as it may seem, it is a simile that he himself uses, and perhaps uses it in part; it is so low, that the language itself may be a specimen of that condescension which it is in­tended to express.

SUCH is that wonderful contrast of what is most awful, and most engaging, in the gospel; and this gospel, sirs, do you daily hear. To you is the word of this salvation sent^c; to you is th [...] whole counsel of God declared. May you never be le [...]t to reject it against yourselves,^d but may diving grace render it a Savour of life [...]nto life^e [...] once more;

4. WE may farther infer, that the [...] thoughts of death must be very useful to young [Page 194] persons, since judgment is so nearly connected with it.

IT is appointed unto all men once to die, and af­ter death the judgment^a; and though the final solemnity of that judgment may be delayed to dis­tant ages, the state of the soul is in a moment un­alterably fixed; and in this sense, as the tree falls, so it must lie^b for there is no device, nor work­ing in the grave^c.

Now a [...] this is generally acknowledged, we may naturally conclude that those, who remember death, will not forget judgment. Let me therefore, my young friends, call down your thoughts to the grave; and methinks, among so many monu­ments of mortality, it should not be difficult to do it.

RECOLLECT, I beseech you, what of that you have seen the year past. How many of you have attended the funerals of youth like yourselves, of children much younger than yourselves! they have given up the ghost, and where are they^d? What a change hath death made!—where are they? Why, perhaps what remains of them, within the walls of this place, under the feet of some of you. Could your eye penetrate a few feet of [...], you would see them; but oh, what spectacles of horror would you discover! yet perhaps a year ago they were in the number of the most am [...]able objects of your sight. And such is your bloom, such i [...] your [...] ▪ And will you [...] upon it, presume so [...] to continue exposed to all the terrors of di­vine judgment, in a vain dependence that some years [...] you shall consider and escape it?

[...] that you were wise, that you understand this, that you would consider your latter [...]!^e oh [Page 195] that you would be willing to converse with the dy­ing, and with the dead! you will, no doubt, soon have renewed opportunities of doing it. Some will probably be called away for lessons to the rest; and before the year rolls round, you may perhaps see some pious youth going with joy and triumph to glory, or some careless incorrigible creature dy­ing in terror, or, which is yet more dreadful, in a stupid insensibility of soul. Reflect, my brethren, on what of this kind you have seen; attend to what you may farther see: and remember that the house of mourning may prove a school of the most use­ful discipline, i [...] the living will lay it to heart^a.

BUT why do I mention the house of mourning? You are perhaps going to that of feasting^*. The leisure of the season invites to it; and custom hath established it into a law, to close the old year and be­gin the new with some peculiar vanities, in some more than ordinary forgetfulness of all the impor­tant purposes for which time and opportunities of i [...] are given. Such is our wisdom, such is our gra­titude, such is our consistence with the name we bear, and the profession we make!

You are perhaps some of you impressed with what you have heard: but I am much afraid, there are those that within twelve days, or even twelve hours, will have lost the impression, and be as unconcern­ed about this great judgment, as if God's own hand had sent them a discharge from appearing at it. It is a discouraging case, and it makes us your mi­nisters almost dread this season, cheerful as it is thought, as that in which former convictions will be worn off, and the heart of unthinking youth [Page 196] will be steeled against those that might otherwise be made: as the season, in which we do, as it were, see the infernal lion bearing away the lambs of our flock, even before our faces.

But we will at least cry out for their deliverance, we will lift up our voice like a trumpet^a; and may hope, that some of you will take the warning, and hide the word of God in your heart^b Sin­ners will no doubt be enticing you, to walk as they do in the way of the heart, and according to the the sight of the eyes, but consent not^c to the so­licitation, if you would not be destroyed with them, in that day, when they shall appear, as they have now been represented, unable to stand in the judg­ment^d, and shall perish from this unhappy way which they have taken; and that in a moment, when the wrath of him, whom they now despise, shall but begin to be kindled against them^e; for it shall be kindled with such terrors, that they shall say to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that [...]itteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the lamb; for the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand^f? The Lord grant, that you may all find mercy of the Lord in that day^g! AMEN.