Sermons on Several Occasions and Primitive Physick

Sermon 111: On the Omnipresence of God

Sermon 111 [112]

On the Omnipresence of God

"Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith the Lord."

Jer. 23:24.

1. How strongly and beautifully do these words express the omnipresence of God! And can there be in the whole compass of nature a more sublime subject? Can there be any more worthy the consideration of every rational creature? Is there any more necessary to be considered, and to be understood, so far as our poor faculties will admit? How many excellent purposes may it answer! What deep instruction may it convey to all the children of men! And more directly to the children of God.

2. How is it then that so little has been wrote on so sublime and useful a subject? It is true that some of our most eminent writers have occasionally touched upon it, and have several strong and beautiful reflections which were naturally suggested by it. But which of them has published a regular treatise, or so much as a sermon, upon the head? Perhaps many were conscious of their inability to do justice to so vast a subject. It is possible, there may some such lie hid in the voluminous writings of the last century. But if they are hid even in their own country, if they are already buried in oblivion, it is the same, for any use they are of, as if they had never been wrote.

3. What seems to be wanting still, for general use, is a plain discourse on the omnipresence or ubiquity of God. First, in some manner explaining and proving that glorious truth, "God is in this, and every place;" and Then, applying it to the consciences of all thinking men, in a few practical inferences.

I. 1. Accordingly, I will endeavour, by the assistance of his Spirit, first a little to explain the omnipresence of God; to show how we are to understand this glorious truth, "God is in this, and every place. The Psalmist, you may remember, speaks strongly and beautifully upon it in the hundred and thirty-ninth Psalm; observing in the most exact order, First, "God is in this place;" and Then, "God is in every place." He observes, First, "Thou art about my bed, and about my path, and spiest out all my ways." (Ps. 139:3.) "Thou hast fashioned me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me." (Ps. 139:5) Although the manner thereof he could not explain; how it was he could not tell. "Such knowledge," says he, "is too wonderful for me: I cannot attain unto it." (Ps. 139:6) He next observes, in the most lively and affecting manner, that God is in every place. "Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit, or whither shall I go from thy presence? If I climb up into heaven, thou art there; if I go down to hell, thou art there also.'(Ps. 139:7, 8.) If I could ascend, speaking after the manner of men, to the highest part of the universe, or could I descend to the lowest point, thou art alike present both in one and the other. "If I should take the wings of the morning, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there thy hand would lead me," -- thy power and thy presence would be before me, -- "and thy right hand would hold me,' seeing thou art equally in the length and breadth, and in the height and depth of the universe. Indeed thy presence and knowledge not only reach the utmost bounds of creation; but

Thine omnipresent sight,

Even to the pathless realms extends

Of uncreated night.

In a word, there is no point of space, whether within or without the bounds of creation, where God is not.

2. Indeed, this subject is far too vast to be comprehended by the narrow limits of human understanding. We can only say, The great God, the eternal, the almighty Spirit, is as unbounded in his presence as in his duration and power. In condescension, indeed, to our weak understanding, he is said to dwell in heaven: but, strictly speaking, the heaven of heavens cannot contain him; but he is in every part of his dominion. The universal God dwelleth in universal space; so that we may say,

Hail, Father! whose creating call

Unnumber'd worlds attend!

Jehovah, comprehending all,

Whom none can comprehend!

3. If we may dare attempt the illustrating this a little farther, what is the space occupied by a grain of sand, compared to that space which is occupied by the starry heavens? It is as a cipher; it is nothing; it vanishes away in the comparison. What is it, then, to the whole expanse of space, to which the whole creation is infinitely less than a grain of sand? And yet this space, to which the whole creation bears no proportion at all, is infinitely less in comparison of the great God than a grain of sand, yea, a millionth part of it, bears to that whole space.

II. 1. This seems to be the plain meaning of those solemn words which God speaks of himself: "Do not I fill heaven and earth?" And these sufficiently prove his omnipresence; which may be farther proved from this consideration: God acts everywhere, and, therefore, is everywhere; for it is an utter impossibility that any being, created or uncreated, should work where it is not. God acts in heaven, in earth, and under the earth, throughout the whole compass of his creation; by sustaining all things, without which everything would in an instant sink into its primitive nothing; by governing all, every moment superintending everything that he has made; strongly and sweetly influencing all, and yet without destroying the liberty of his rational creatures. The very Heathens acknowledged that the great God governs the large and conspicuous parts of the universe; that he regulates the motions of the heavenly bodies, of the sun, moon, and stars; that he is

Totam

Mens agitans molem, et magno se corpore miscens:

The all-informing soul,

That fills, pervades and actuates the whole.

But they had no conception of his having a regard to the least things as well as the greatest; of his presiding over all that he has made, and governing atoms as well as worlds. This we could not have known unless it had pleased God to reveal it unto us himself. Had he not himself told us so, we should not have dared to think that "not a sparrow falleth to the ground, without the will of our Father which is in heaven;" and much less affirm, that "even the very hairs of our head are all numbered!"

2. This comfortable truth, that "God filleth heaven and earth," we learn also from the Psalm above recited: "If I climb up into heaven, thou art there; if I go down to hell, thou art there also. If I take the wings of the morning, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there thy hand shall lead me." The plain meaning is, If I remove to any distance whatever, thou art there; thou still besettest me, and layest thine hand upon me. Let me flee to any conceivable or inconceivable distance; above, beneath, or on any side;, it makes no difference; thou art still equally there: In thee I still "live, and move, and have my being."

3. And where no creature is, still God is there. The presence or absence of any or all creatures makes no difference with regard to him. He is equally in all, or without all. Many have been the disputes among philosophers whether there be any such thing as empty space in the universe; and it is now generally supposed that all space is full. Perhaps it cannot be proved that all space is filled with matter. But the Heathen himself will bear us witness, Jovis omnia plena: "All things are full of God." Yea, and space exists beyond the bounds of creation (for creation must have bounds, seeing nothing is boundless, nothing can be, but the great Creator), even that space cannot exclude Him who fills the heaven and the earth.

4. Just equivalent to this is the expression of the Apostle: (Eph. 1:23, not, as some have strangely supposed, concerning the Church, but concerning the Head of it:) "The fullness of him that filleth all in all;" ta panta en pasin, literally translated, +all things in all things;" -- the strongest expression of universality which can possibly be conceived. It necessarily includes the last and the greatest of all things that exist. So that if any expression could be stronger, it would be stronger than even that -- the "filling heaven and earth."

5. Indeed this very expression, "Do not I fill heaven and earth?" (the question being equal to the strongest affirmation), implies the clearest assertion of God's being present everywhere and filling all space; for it is well known, the Hebrew phrase "heaven and earth," includes the whole universe; the whole extent of space, created or uncreated, and all that is therein.

6. Nay, and we cannot believe the omnipotence of God, unless we believe his omnipresence; for, seeing, as was observed before, nothing can act where it is not, -- if there were any space where God was not present, he would not be able to do anything there. Therefore, to deny the omnipresence of God implies, likewise, the denial of his omnipotence. To set bounds to the one is undoubtedly to set bounds to the other also.

7. Indeed, wherever we suppose him not to be, there we suppose all his attributes to be in vain. He cannot exercise there either his justice or mercy, either his power or wisdom. In extra-mundane space, (so to speak,) where we suppose God not to be present, we must, of course, suppose him to have no duration; but as it is supposed to be beyond the bounds of the creation, so it is beyond the bounds of the Creator's power. Such is the blasphemous absurdity which is implied in this supposition.

8. But to all that is or can be said of the omnipresence of God, the world has one grand objection: They cannot see him. And this is really at the root of all their other objections. This our blessed Lord observed long ago: "Whom the world cannot receive, because they see him not." But is it not easy to reply, "Can you see the wind?" You cannot. But do you therefore deny its existence, or its presence? You say, "No; for I can perceive it by my other senses." But by which of your senses do you perceive your soul? Surely you do not deny either the existence or the presence of this! And yet it is not the object of your sight, or of any of your other senses. Suffice it then to consider that God is a Spirit, as is our soul also. Consequently, "him no man hath seen, or can see," with eyes of flesh and blood.

III. 1. But allowing that God is here, as in every place, that he is "about our bed, and about our path;" that he "besets us behind and before, and lays his hand upon us;" what inference should we draw from hence? What use should we make of this awful consideration? Is it not meet and right to humble ourselves before the eyes of his Majesty? Should we not labour continually to acknowledge his presence, "with reverence and godly fear?" not indeed with the fear of devils, that believe and tremble, but with fear of angels, with something similar to that which is felt by the inhabitants of heaven, when

Dark with excessive bright his skirts appear,

Yet dazzles heaven, that brightest seraphim

Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.

2. Secondly. If you believe that God is about your bed, and about your path, and spieth out all your ways, then take care not to do the least thing, not to speak the least word, not to indulge the least thought, which you have reason to think would offend him. Suppose that a messenger of God, an angel, be now standing at your right hand, and fixing his eyes upon you, would you not take care to abstain from every word or action that you knew would offend him? Yea, suppose one of your mortal fellow-servants, suppose only a holy man stood by you, would not you be extremely cautious how you conducted yourself, both in word and action? How much more cautious ought you to be when you know that not a holy man, not an angel of God, but God himself, the Holy One "that inhabiteth eternity," is inspecting your heart, your tongue, your hand, every moment; and that he himself will surely bring you into judgment for all you think, and speak, and act under the sun!

3. In particular: If there is not a word in your tongue, not a syllable you speak, but he "knoweth it altogether;" how exact should you be in "setting a watch before your mouth, and in keeping the door of your lips!" How wary does it behove you to be in all your conversation; being forewarned by your Judge, that "by your words you shall be justified, or by your words you shall be condemned!" How cautious, lest "any corrupt communication," any uncharitable, yea, or unprofitable discourse, should "proceed out of your mouth;" instead of "that which is good to the use of edifying, and meet to minister grace to the hearers!"

4. Yea, if God sees our hearts as well as our hands, and in all places; if he understandeth our thoughts long before they are clothed with words, how earnestly should we urge that petition, "Search me, O Lord, and prove me; try out my reins and my heart; look well if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!" Yea, how needful is it to work together with him, in "keeping our hearts with all diligence," till he hath "cast down imaginations," evil reasonings, "and everything that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and brought into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ!"

5. On the other hand, if you are already listed under the great Captain of your salvation, seeing you are continually under the eye of your Captain, how zealous and active should you be to "fight the good fight of faith, and lay hold on eternal life;" "to endure hardship, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ;" to use all diligence, to "war a good warfare," and to do whatever is acceptable in his sight! How studious should you be to approve all your ways to his all-seeing eyes; that he may say to your hearts, what he will proclaim aloud in the great assembly of men and angels, "Well done, good and faithful servants!"

6. In order to attain these glorious ends, spare no pains to preserve always a deep, a continual, a lively, and a joyful sense of his gracious presence. Never forget his comprehensive word to the great father of the faithful: "I am the Almighty" (rather, the All-sufficient) "God; walk before me, and be thou perfect!" Cheerfully expect that He, before whom you stand, will ever guide you with his eye, will support you by his guardian hand, will keep you from all evil, and "when you have suffered a while, [he] will make you perfect, will stablish, strengthen, and settle you;" and then "preserve you unblameable, unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ!"

Portsmouth, August 12, 1788

[112] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 112: The Rich Man and Lazarus

Sermon 112 [113]

The Rich Man and Lazarus

"If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead."

Luke 16:31.

1. How strange a paradox is this! How contrary to the common apprehension of men! Who is so confirmed in unbelief as not to think, "If one came to me from the dead, I should be effectually persuaded to repent?" But this passage affords us a more strange saying: (Luke 16:13:) "Ye cannot serve God and mammon." "No! Why not? Why cannot we serve both?" will a true servant of mammon say. Accordingly, the Pharisees, who supposed they served God, and did cordially serve mammon, derided him: exemykterizon. A word expressive of the deepest contempt. But he said, (Luke 16:15, ) "Ye are they who justify yourselves before men; but God knoweth your hearts: And that which is highly esteemed among men, is (very commonly) an abomination before God:" A terrible proof of which our Lord subjoins in the remaining part of the chapter.

2. But is the subsequent account merely a parable, or a real history? It has been believed by many, and roundly asserted, to be a mere parable, because of one or two circumstances therein, which are not easy to be accounted for. In particular, it is hard to conceive, how a person in hell could hold conversation with one in paradise. But, admitting we cannot account for this, will it overbalance an express assertion of our Lord: "There was," says our Lord, "a certain rich man." -- Was there not? Did such a man never exist? "And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus."- -Was there, or was there not? Is it not bold enough, positively to deny what our blessed Lord positively affirms? Therefore, we cannot reasonably doubt, but the whole narration, with all its circumstances, is exactly true. And Theophylact (one of the ancient commentators on the Scriptures) observes upon the text, that, "according to the tradition of the Jews, Lazarus lived at Jerusalem."

I purpose, with God's assistance, First, to explain this history; Secondly, to apply it; and, Thirdly, to prove the truth of that weighty sentence with which it is concluded, namely, "If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead."

I. 1. And, First, I will endeavour, with God's assistance, to explain this history. "There was a certain rich man;" and, doubtless, on that very account, highly esteemed among men, -- "who was clothed in purple and fine linen;" and, consequently, esteemed the more highly, both as appearing suitably to his fortune, and as an encourager of trade; -- "and fared sumptuously every day." Here was another reason for his being highly esteemed, -- his hospitality and generosity, -- both by those who frequently sat at his table, and the tradesmen that furnished it.

2. "And there was a certain beggar;" one in the lowest line of human infamy; "named Lazarus," according to the Greek termination; in Hebrew, Eleazer. From his name we may gather, that he was of no mean family, although this branch of it was, at present, so reduced. It is probable he was well known in the city; and it was no scandal to him to be named. -- "Who was laid at his gate;" although no pleasing spectacle; so that one might wonder he was suffered to lie there; -- "full of sores;" of running ulcers; -- "and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table." So the complicated affliction of poverty, pain, and want of bread, lay upon him at once! But it does not appear that any creature took the least notice of the despicable wretch! Only "the dogs came and licked his sores:" All the comfort which this world afforded him!

3. But see the change! "The beggar died:" Here ended poverty and pain: -- "And was carried by angels;" nobler servants than any that attended the rich man; -- "into Abraham's bosom:" -- So the Jews commonly termed what our blessed Lord styles paradise; the place "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest;" the receptacle of holy souls, from death to the resurrection. It is, indeed, very generally supposed, that the souls of good men, as soon as they are discharged from the body, go directly to heaven; but this opinion has not the least foundation in the oracles of God: On the contrary, our Lord says to Mary, after the resurrection, "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father" in heaven. But he had been in paradise, according to his promise to the penitent thief: "This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Hence, it is plain, that paradise is not heaven. It is indeed (if we may be allowed the expression) the antechamber of heaven, where the souls of the righteous remain till, after the general judgment, they are received into glory.

4. But see the scene change again! "The rich man also died." -- What! must rich men also die? Must they fall "like one of the people?" Is there no help? A rich man in London, some years ago, when the physician told him he must die, gnashed his teeth, and clenched his fist, and cried out vehemently, "God, God, I won't die!' But he died with the very words in his mouth. -- "And was buried;" doubtless, with pomp enough, suitably to his quality; although we do not find that there was then, in all the world, that exquisite instance of human folly, that senseless, cruel mockery of a poor putrifying carcass, what we term lying in state!

5. And in hell he lifted up his eyes." -- O, what a change! How is the mighty fallen! But the word which is here rendered hell does not always mean the place of the damned. It is, literally, the invisible world; and is of very wide extent, including the receptacle of separate spirits, whether good or bad. But here it evidently means, that region of hades where the souls of wicked men reside, as appears from the following words, "Being in torment;" -- "in order," say some, "to atone for the sins committed while in the body, as well as to purify the soul from all its inherent sin." Just so, the eminent heathen poet, near two thousand years ago: --

Necesse est

Multa diu concreta modis inolescere miris,

Ergo exercentur poenis --

-- Aliae panduntur inanes

Suspensae ad ventos: Aliis sub gurgite vasto

Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni.

[This quotation from Virgil (Aeneid vi.737-742) is thus translated by Pitt:

"Ev'n when those bodies are to death resign'd,

Some old inherent spots are left behind;

A sullying tincture of corporeal stains

Deep in the substance of the soul remains.

Thus are her splendours dimm'd, and crusted o'er

With those dark vices that she knew before.

For this the souls a various penance pay,

To purge the taint of former crimes away.

Some in the sweeping breezes are refined,

And hung on high to whiten in the wind:

Some cleanse their stains beneath the gushing streams,

And some rise glorious from the searching flames." -- Edit.]

See the near resemblance between the ancient and the modern purgatory! Only in the ancient, the heathen purgatory, both fire, water, and air, were employed in expiating sin, and purifying the soul; whereas in the mystic purgatory, fire alone is supposed sufficient both to purge and expiate. Vain hope! No suffering, but that of Christ, has any power to expiate sin; and no fire, but that of love, can purify the soul, either in time or in eternity.

6. "He seeth Abraham afar off." -- Far, indeed! as far as from hell to paradise! Perhaps, "ten-fold the length of this terrene." But how could this be? I cannot tell: But it is by no means incredible. For who knows "how far an angel kens," or a spirit divested of flesh and blood? -- "And Lazarus in his bosom." It is well known that, in the ancient feasts among the Jews, as well as the Romans, the guests did not sit down at the table, as it is now the custom to do; but lay on couches, each having a pillow at his left side, on which he supported his elbow; and he that sat next him, on the right side, was said to lie in his bosom. It was in this sense that the Apostle John lay in his Master's bosom. Accordingly, the expression of Lazarus lying in Abraham's bosom implies that he was in the highest place of honour and happiness.

7. "And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me." -- Thou fool! what can Abraham do? What can any creature, yea, all the creation do, to break the bars of the bottomless pit? Whoever would escape from the place of torment, let him cry to God, the Father of mercy! Nay, but the time is past! Justice now takes place, and rejoices over mercy! -- "And send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame!" How exceeding modest a request is this! He does not say, "That he may take me out of this flame." He does not ask, "That he may bring me a cup of water, or as much as he might hold in the palm of his hand;" but barely, "That he may dip" were it but "the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue." No! It cannot be! No mercy can enter within the shades of hell!

8. "But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented." Perhaps these words may supply us with an answer to an important question: How came this rich man to be in hell? It does not appear that he was a wicked man, in the common sense of the word; that he was a drunkard, a common swearer, a Sabbath-breaker, or that he lived in any known sin. It is probable he was a Pharisee; and as such was, in all the outward parts of religion, blameless. How then did he come into "the place of torment?" If there was no other reason to be assigned, there is a sufficient one implied in those words, ("he that hath ears to hear, let him hear!") "Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things;" -- the things which thou hadst chosen for thy happiness. Thou hadst set thy affection on things beneath: And thou hadst thy reward: Thou didst receive the portion which thou hadst chosen, and canst have no portion above. "And likewise Lazarus evil things." Not his evil things; for he did not choose them. But they were chosen for him by the wise providence of God: And "now he is comforted, while thou art tormented."

9. "But beside all this, there is a great gulf fixed:" -- A great chasm, a vast vacuity Can any tell us what this is? What is the nature, what are the bounds, of it? Nay, none of the children of men; none but an inhabitant of the invisible world. -- "So that they who would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence." Undoubtedly a disembodied spirit could pass through any space whatever. But the will of God, determining that none should go across that gulf, is a bound which no creature can pass.

10. Then he said, "I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldst send him to my father's house; for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment." (Luke 16:27, 28.) Two entirely different motives have been assigned for this extraordinary request. Some ascribe it wholly to self-love, to a fear of the bitter reproaches which, he might easily suppose, his brethren would pour upon him, if, in consequence of his example, and perhaps advice, they came to the same place of torment. Others have imputed it to a nobler motive. They suppose, as the misery of the wicked will not be complete till the day of judgment, so neither will their wickedness. Consequently, they believe that, till that time, they may retain some sparks of natural affection; and they, not improbably, imagine that this may have occasioned his desire to prevent their sharing his own torment.

11. "Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the Prophets: let them hear them." (Luke 16:29.) "And he said, Nay, father Abraham; but if one went to them from the dead, they will repent." Who would not be of the same opinion? Might not any one reasonably suppose that a message solemnly delivered by one that came from the dead must have an irresistible force? Who would not think, "I myself could not possibly withstand such a preacher of repentance?"

II. This I conceive to be the meaning of the words. I will now endeavour, with the help of God, to apply them. And I beseech you, brethren. while I am doing this, "to suffer the word of exhortation." The more closely these things are applied to your souls, the more ye may profit thereby.

1. "There was a certain rich man:" -- And it is no more sinful to be rich than to be poor. But it is dangerous beyond expression. Therefore, I remind all of you that are of this number, that have the conveniences of life, and something over that ye walk upon slippery ground. Ye continually tread on snares and deaths. Ye are every moment on the verge of hell! "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for you to enter in the kingdom of heaven." -- "Who was clothed in purple and fine linen." And some may have a plea for this. Our Lord mentions them that "dwell in kings' houses," as wearing gorgeous, that is, splendid, apparel, and does not blame them for it. But certainly this is no plea for any that do not dwell in kings' houses. Let all of them, therefore, beware how they follow his example who is "lifting up his eyes in hell!" Let us follow the advice of the Apostle, being "adorned with good works, and with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit."

2. "He fared sumptuously every day." -- Reconcile this with religion who can. I know how plausibly the prophets of smooth things can talk in favour of hospitality; of making our friends welcome: of keeping a handsome table, to do honour to religion; of promoting trade, and the like. But God is not mocked: He will not be put off with such pretences as these. Whoever thou art that sharest in the sin of this rich man, were it no other than "faring sumptuously every day," thou shalt as surely be a sharer in his punishment, except thou repent, as if thou wert already crying for a drop of water to cool thy tongue!

3. "And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, who was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table." (Luke 16:20, 21.) But it seems both the rich man and his guests were too religious to relieve common beggars! -- a sin of which pious Mr. H. so earnestly warns his readers; and an admonition of the same kind I have read on the gate of the good city of Winchester! I wish the gentlemen who placed it there had seen a little circumstance which occurred some years since. At Epworth, in Lincolnshire, the town where I was born, a beggar came to a house in the market-place, and begged a morsel of bread, saying she was very hungry. The master bid her be gone, for a lazy jade. She called at a second, and begged a little small beer, saying she was very thirsty. She had much the same answer. At a third door she begged a little water; saying she was very faint. But this man also was too conscientious to encourage common beggars. The boys, seeing a ragged creature turned from door to door, began to pelt her with snow-balls. She looked up, lay down, and died! Would you wish to be the man who refused that poor wretch a morsel of bread, or a cup of water? -- "Moreover the dogs came and licked his sores:" Being more compassionate than their master. -- "And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried of angels into Abraham's bosom." Hear this, all ye that are poor in this world. Ye that, many times, have not food to eat, or raiment to put on; ye that have not a place where to lay your head, unless it be a cold garret, or a foul and damp cellar! Ye are now reduced to "solicit the cold hand of charity." Yet lift up your load; it shall not always be thus. I love you, I pity you, I admire you, when "in patience ye possess your souls." Yet I cannot help you. But there is One that can, -- the Father of the fatherless, and the Husband of the widow. "The poor crieth unto the Lord; and he heareth him, and delivereth him out of all his troubles." Yet a little while, if ye truly turn to him, his angels shall carry you into Abraham's bosom. There ye shall "hunger no more, and thirst no more;" ye shall feel no more sorrow or pain; but "the Lamb shall wipe away all tears from your eyes, and lead you forth beside fountains of living waters."

4. But see, the scene is changed! "The rich man also died." What? In spite of his riches? Probably sooner than he desired. For how just is that word, "O death, how bitter art thou to a man that is at rest in the midst of his possessions!" However, if that would be a comfort, "he was buried." But how little did it signify, whether he was laid under a lofty monument, or among

Graves with bending osier bound,

That nameless heave the crumbled ground!

And what followed? "In hell he lifted his eyes." This, it is certain, ye need not do. God does not require it of you: "He willeth not that any should perish." Ye cannot, unless by your own wilful choice, -- intruding into those regions of woe, which God did not prepare for you, but for "the devil and his angels."

5. See the scene change again! "He seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom." And he knew him; although, perhaps, he had only cast a glance at him while he "lay at his gates." Is any of you in doubt whether we shall know one another in the other world? Here your doubts may receive a full solution. If a soul in hell knew Lazarus in paradise, as far off as he was, certainly those that are together in paradise will perfectly know each other.

6. "And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have mercy upon me!" -- I do not remember, in all the Bible, any prayer made to a saint, but this. And if we observe who made it, -- a man in hell, -- and with what success, we shall hardly wish to follow the precedent. O let us cry for mercy to God, not to man! And it is our wisdom to cry now, while we are in the land of mercy; otherwise it will be too late! -- "I am tormented in this flame!" Tormented, observe, not purified. Vain hope, that fire can purify a spirit! As well might you expect water to cleanse the soul, as fire. God forbid that you or I should make the trial!

7. And "Abraham said, Son, remember:" -- Mark, how Abraham accosts a damned spirit: And shall we behave with less tenderness to any of the children of God, "because they are not of our opinion?" -- "Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things." O, beware it be not your case! Are not the things of the world "thy good things?" -- the chief objects of thy desire and pursuit? Are they not thy chief joy? If so, thou art in a very dangerous state; in the very condition which Dives was in upon earth! Do not then dream that all is well, because thou art "highly esteemed among men;" because thou doest no harm, or doest much good, or attendest all the ordinances of God. What is all this, if thy soul cleaves to the dust; if thy heart is in the world; if thou lovest the creature more than the Creator?

8. How striking are the next words! "Beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed; so that they who would pass from us to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence." This was the text which occasioned the epitaph on a right honourable infidel and gamester: --

Here lies a dicer; long in doubt

If death could kill the soul, or not:

Here ends his doubtfulness; at last

Convinced; -- but, ah! the die is cast!

But, blessed be God, your die is not cast yet. You are not passed the great gulf, but have it still in your power to choose whether you will be attended by angels or fiends when your soul quits its earthly mansion. Now stretch out your hand to eternal life or eternal death! And God says, "Be it unto thee even as thou wilt!"

9. Being repulsed in this, he makes another request: "I pray thee, send him to my father's house; for I have five brethren; that he may testify to them." It is not impossible that other unhappy spirits may wish well to the relations they have left behind them. But this is the accepted time for them, as well as for us. Let us then address them ourselves; and let us beg our living friends to give us all the help they can, without waiting for assistance from the inhabitants of another world. Let us earnestly exhort them to use the helps they have; to "hear Moses and the Prophets." We are indeed apt to think, like that unhappy spirit, "If one went to them from the dead, they will repent." "But Abraham said, If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead."

III. 1. I am, in the Third place, to prove the truth of this weighty sentence; which I will do, First, briefly, and then more at large.

And, First, to express the matter briefly: It is certain that no human spirit, while it is in the body, can persuade another to repent; can work in him an entire change, both of heart and life; a change from universal wickedness, to universal holiness. And suppose that spirit discharged from the body, it is no more able to do this than it was before: No power less than that which created it at first can create any soul anew. No angel, much less any human spirit, whether in the body or out of the body, can bring one soul "from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." It might very possibly fright him to death, or to the belief of any speculative truth; but it could not frighten him into spiritual life. God alone can raise those that are "dead in trespasses and sins."

2. In order to prove more at large, that if men "hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be" effectually "persuaded" to repent, "though one rose from the dead," I will propose a case of this kind, with all the advantages that can be conceived. Suppose, then, one that does not "hear Moses and the Prophets," that does not believe the Scripture to be of God, to be fast asleep in his bed, and suddenly to awake while the clock was just striking one. He is surprised to observe the chamber as light as if it were noon-day. He looks up, and sees one whom he perfectly knew standing at his bed-side. Though a little surprised at first, he quickly recollects himself, and has the courage to ask, "Are not you my friend, who died at such a time?" He answers, "I am. I am come from God, with a message to you. You have often wished you could see one risen from the dead; and said, then you would repent. You have your wish; and I am ordered to inform you, you are seeking death in the error of your life. If you die in the state you are in now, you will die eternally. I warn you, in His name, that the Scriptures are the real word of God; that from the moment you die, you will be remarkably happy, or unspeakably miserable; that you cannot be happy hereafter, unless you are holy here; which cannot be, unless you are born again. Receive this call from God! Eternity is at hand. Repent, and believe the gospel!" Having spoken these words, he vanishes away; and the room is dark as it was before.

3. One may easily believe, it would be impossible for him not to be convinced for the present. He would sleep no more that night; and would, as soon as possible, tell his family what he had seen and heard. Not content with this, he would be impatient to tell it to his former companions. And, probably, observing the earnestness with which he spoke, they would not then contradict him. They would say to each other, "Give him time to cool; then he will be a reasonable man again."

4. Now, it is constantly found, that impressions made on the memory gradually decay; that they grow weaker and weaker in process of time, and the traces of them fainter and fainter. So it must be in this case; which his companions observing, would not fail to seize the opportunity. They would speak to this effect: "It was a strange account you gave us some time since; the more so, because we know you to be a sensible man, and not inclined to enthusiasm. But, perhaps, you have not fully considered, how difficult it is, in some cases, to distinguish our dreams from our waking thoughts. Has anyone yet been able to find out an infallible criterion between them? Is it not then possible, that you may have been asleep when this lively impression was made on your mind?" When he had been brought to think, possibly it might be a dream; they would soon persuade him, probably it was so; and not long after, to believe, it certainly was a dream. So little would it avail, that one came from the dead!

5. It could not be expected to be otherwise. For what was the effect which was wrought upon him? (1.) He was exceedingly frightened: (2.) This fright made way for a deeper conviction of the truth then declared: But (3.) his heart was not changed. None but the Almighty could effect this. Therefore (4.) the bias of his soul was still set the wrong way; he still loved the world, and, consequently, wished that the Scripture was not true. How easily then, as the fright wore off, would he again believe what he wished! The conclusion then is plain and undeniable. If men "hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded" to repent and believe the gospel, "though one rose from the dead."

6. We may add one consideration more, which brings the matter to a full issue. Before, or about the same time, that Lazarus was carried into Abraham's bosom, another Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, was actually raised from the dead. But were even those who believed the fact persuaded to repent? So far from it, that "they took counsel to kill Lazarus," as well as his Master! Away then with the fond imagination, that those who "hear not Moses and the Prophets, would be persuaded, though on from the dead!"

7. From the whole we may draw this general conclusion. That standing revelation is the best means of rational conviction; far preferable to any of those extraordinary means which some imagine would be more effectual. It is therefore our wisdom to avail ourselves of this; to make full use of it; so that it may be a lantern to our feet, and a light in all our paths. Let us take care that our whole heart and life be conformable thereto; that it be the constant rule of all our tempers, all our words, and all our actions. So shall we preserve in all things the testimony of a good conscience toward God; and when our course is finished, we too shall be "carried by angels into Abraham's bosom." Birmingham, March 25, 1788.

[113] [text of the 1872 ed.]

Sermon 113: The Difference Between Walking by Sight, and Walking by Faith

Sermon 113 [114]

The Difference Between Walking by Sight, and Walking by Faith

"We walk by faith, not by sight."

2 Cor. 5:7.

1. How short is this description of real Christians! And yet how exceeding full! It comprehends, it sums up, the whole experience of those that are truly such, from the time they are born of God till they remove into Abraham's bosom. For, who are the we that are here spoken of? All that are true Christian believers. I say Christian, not Jewish, believers. All that are not only servants, but children, of God. All that have "the Spirit of adoption, crying in their hearts, Abba, Father." All that have "the Spirit of God witnessing with their spirits, that they are the sons of God."

2. All these, and these alone, can say, "We walk by faith, and not by sight." But before we can possibly "walk by faith," we must live by faith, and not by sight. And to all real Christians our Lord saith, "Because I live, ye live also:" Ye live a life which the world, whether learned or unlearned, "know not of." "You that," like the world, "were dead in trespasses and sins, hath he quickened," and made alive; given you new senses, -- spiritual senses, -- "senses exercised to discern spiritual good and evil."

3. In order thoroughly to understand this important truth, it may be proper to consider the whole matter. All the children of men that are not born of God "walk by sight," having no higher principle. By sight, that is, by sense; a part being put for the whole; the sight for all the senses; the rather, because it is more noble and more extensive than any, or all the rest. There are but few objects which we can discern by the three inferior senses of taste, smell, and feeling; and none of these can take any cognizance of its object, unless it be brought into a direct contact with it. Hearing, it is true, has a larger sphere of action, and gives us some knowledge of things that are distant. But how small is that distance, suppose it were fifty or a hundred miles, compared to that between the earth and the sun! And what is even this in comparison of the distance of the sun and moon and the fixed stars! Yet the sight continually takes knowledge of objects even at this amazing distance.

4. By sight we take knowledge of the visible world, from the surface of the earth to the region of the fixed stars. But what is the world visible to us, but "a speck of creation," compared to the whole universe? to the invisible world? -- that part of the creation which we cannot see at all, by reason of its distance; in the place of which, through the imperfection of our senses, we are presented with an universal blank. 5. But beside these innumerable objects which we cannot see by reason of their distance, have we not sufficient ground to believe that there are innumerable others of too delicate a nature to be discerned by any of our senses? Do not all men of unprejudiced reason allow the same thing, (the small number of Materialists, or Atheists, I cannot term men of reason,) that there is an invisible world, naturally such, as well as a visible one? But which of our senses is fine enough to take the least knowledge of this? We can no more perceive any part of this by our sight, than by our feeling. Should we allow, with the ancient poet that,

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth

Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep;

should we allow, that the great Spirit, the Father of all, filleth both heaven and earth; yet is the finest of our senses utterly incapable of perceiving either Him or them.

6. All our external senses are evidently adapted to this external, visible world. They are designed to serve us only while we sojourn here, -- while we dwell in these houses of clay. They have nothing to do with the invisible world; they are not adapted to it. And they can take no more cognizance of the eternal, than of the invisible world; although we are as fully assured of the existence of this, as of anything in the present world. We cannot think death puts a period to our being. The body indeed returns to dust; but the soul, being of a nobler nature, is not affected thereby. There is, therefore, an eternal world, of what kind soever it be. But how shall we attain the knowledge of this? What will teach us to draw aside the veil "that hangs twixt mortal and immortal being?" We all know, "the vast, the unbounded prospect lies before us;" but we are not constrained to add, "Yet clouds, alas! and darkness rest upon it."

7. The most excellent of our senses, it is undeniably plain, can give us no assistance herein. And what can our boasted reason do? It is now universally allowed, Nihil est in intellectu quod non fuit prius in sensu: "Nothing is in the understanding, which was not first perceived by some of the senses." Consequently, the understanding, having here nothing to work upon, can afford us no help at all. So that, in spite of all the information we can gain, either from sense or reason, both the invisible and eternal world are unknown to all that "walk by sight."

8. But is there no help? Must they remain in total darkness concerning the invisible and the eternal world? We cannot affirm this: Even the Heathens did not all remain in total darkness concerning them. Some few rays of light have, in all ages and nations, gleamed through the shade. Some light they derived from various fountains touching the invisible world. "The heavens declared the glory of God," though not to their outward sight: "The firmament showed," to the eyes of their understanding, the existence of their Maker. From the creation they inferred the being of a Creator, powerful and wise, just and merciful. And hence they concluded, there must be an eternal world, a future state, to commence after the present; wherein the justice of God in punishing wicked men, and his mercy in rewarding the righteous, will be openly and undeniably displayed in the sight of all intelligent creatures.

9. We may likewise reasonably suppose, that some traces of knowledge, both with regard to the invisible and the eternal world, were delivered down from Noah and his children, both to their immediate and remote descendants. And however these were obscured or disguised by the addition of numberless fables, yet something of truth was still mingled with them, and these streaks of light prevented utter darkness. Add to this, that God never, in any age or nation, "left himself" quite "without a witness" in the hearts of men; but while he "gave them rain and fruitful seasons," imparted some imperfect knowledge of the Giver. "He is the true Light that" still, in some degree, "enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world."

10. But all these lights put together availed no farther than to produce a faint twilight. It gave them, even the most enlightened of them, no elegchos, no demonstration, no demonstrative conviction, either of the invisible or of the eternal world. Our philosophical poet justly terms Socrates, "The wisest of all moral men;" that is, of all that were not favoured with Divine Revelation. Yet what evidence had he of another world, when he addressed those that had condemned him to death? -- "And now, O ye judges, ye are going to live, and I am going to die. Which of these is best, God knows; but I suppose no man does." Alas! What a confession is this! Is this all the evidence that poor dying Socrates had either of an invisible or an eternal world? And yet even this is preferable to the light of the great and good Emperor Adrian. Remember, ye modern Heathens, and copy after his pathetic address to his parting soul. For fear I should puzzle you with Latin, I give it you in Prior's fine translation: --

Poor, little, pretty, fluttering thing,

Must we no longer live together?

And dost thou prune thy trembling wing,

To take the flight, thou know'st not whither?

Thy pleasing vein, thy humorous folly,

Lies all neglected, all forgot!

And pensive, wavering, melancholy,

Thou hop'st and fear'st, thou know'st not what.

11. "Thou know'st not what!" True, there was no knowledge of what was to be hoped or feared after death, till "the Sun of Righteousness" arose to dispel all their vain conjectures, and "brought life and immortality," that is, immortal life, "to light, through the Gospel." Then (and not till then, unless in some rare instances) God revealed, unveiled the invisible world. He then revealed himself to the children of men. "The Father revealed the Son" in their hearts; and the Son revealed the Father. He that of old time "commanded light to shine out of darkness shined in their hearts, and enlightened them with the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ."

12. It is where sense can be of no farther use, that faith comes in to our help; it is the grand desideratum; it does what none of the senses can; no, not with all the helps that art hath invented. All our instruments, however improved by the skill and labour of so many succeeding ages, do not enable us to make the least discovery of these unknown regions. They barely serve the occasions for which they were formed in the present visible world.

13. How different is the case, how vast the pre-eminence, of them that "walk by faith!" God, having "opened the eyes of their understanding," pours divine light into their soul; whereby they are enabled to "see Him that is invisible," to see God and the things of God. What their "eye had not seen, nor their ear heard neither had it entered into their heart to conceive," God from time to time reveals to them, by the "unction of the Holy One, which teacheth them of all things." Having "entered into the holiest by the blood of Jesus," by that "new and living way," and being joined unto "the general assembly and church of the first-born, and unto God the Judge of all, and Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant," -- each of these can say, "I live not, but Christ liveth in me;" [Gal. 2:20] I now live that life which "is hid with Christ in God;" "and when Christ, who is my life, shall appear, then I shall likewise appear with him in glory."

14. They that live by faith, walk by faith. But what is implied in this? They regulate all their judgments concerning good and evil, not with reference to visible and temporal things, but to things invisible and eternal. They think visible things to be of small value, because they pass away like a dream; but, on the contrary, they account invisible things to be of high value, because they will never pass away. Whatever is invisible is eternal; the things that are not seen, do not perish. So the Apostle: "The things that are seen are temporal; but the things that are not seen are eternal." Therefore, they that "walk by faith" do not desire the "things which are seen;" neither are they the object of their pursuit. They "set their affections on things above, not on things on the earth." They seek only the things which are "where Jesus sitteth at the right hand of God." Because they know, "the things that are seen are temporal," passing away like a shadow, therefore they "look not at them;" they desire them not; they account them as nothing; but "they look at the things which are not seen, that are eternal," that never pass away. By these they form their judgment of all things. They judge them to be good or evil, as they promote or hinder their welfare, not in time, but in eternity. They weigh whatever occurs in this balance: "What influence has it on my eternal state?" They regulate all their tempers and passions, all their desires, joys, and fears, by this standard. They regulate all their thoughts and designs, all their words and actions, so as to prepare them for that invisible and eternal world to which they are shortly going. They do not dwell, but only sojourn here; not looking upon earth as their home, but only

Travelling through Immanuel's ground,

To fairer worlds on high.

15. Brethren, are you of this number, who are now here before God? Do you see "Him that is invisible?" Have you faith, living faith, the faith of a child? Can you say, "The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me"? Do you "walk by faith?" Observe the question. I do not ask, whether you curse, or swear, or profane the Sabbath, or live in any outward sin. I do not ask, whether you do good, more or less; or attend all the ordinances of God. But, suppose you are blameless in all these respects, I ask, in the name of God, by what standard do you judge of the value of things? by the visible or the invisible world? Bring the matter to an issue in a single instance. Which do you judge best, -- that your son should be a pious cobbler, or a profane lord? Which appears to you most eligible, -- that your daughter should be a child of God, and walk on foot, or a child of the devil, and ride in a coach-and-six? When the question is concerning marrying your daughter, if you consider her body more than her soul, take knowledge of yourself: You are in the way to hell, and not to heaven; for you walk by sight, and not by faith. I do not ask, whether you live in any outward sin or neglect; but, do you seek in the general tenor of your life, "the things that are above," or the things that are below? Do you "set your affection on things above," or on "things of the earth?" If on the latter, you are as surely in the way of destruction, as a thief or a common drunkard. My dear friends, let every man, every woman among you, deal honestly with yourselves. Ask your own heart, "What am I seeking day by day? What am I desiring? What am I pursuing? earth or heaven? the things that are seen, or the things that are not seen?" What is your object, God or the world? As the Lord liveth, if the world is your object, still all your religion is vain.

16. See then, my dear brethren, that from this time, at least, ye choose the better part. Let your judgment of all the things round about you be according to the real value of things, with a reference to the invisible and eternal world. See that ye judge everything fit to be pursued or shunned, according to the influence it will have on your eternal state. See that your affections, your desire, your joy, your hope, be set, not on transient objects, not on things that fly as a shadow, that pass away like a dream; but on those that are incapable of change, that are incorruptible and fade not away; those that remain the same, when heaven and earth "flee away, and there is no place found for them." See that in all you think, speak, or do, the eye of your soul be single, fixed on "Him that is invisible," and "the glories that shall be revealed." Then shall "your whole body be full of light:" Your whole soul shall enjoy the light of God's countenance; and you shall continually see the light of the glorious love of God "in the face of Jesus Christ."

17. See, in particular, that all your "desire be unto him, and unto the remembrance of his name." Beware of "foolish and hurtful desires;" such as arise from any visible or temporal thing. All these St. John warns us of, under that general term "love of the world." [1 John 2:15] It is not so much to men of the world, as to the children of God, he gives that important direction: "Love not the world, neither the things of the world." Give no place to "the desire of the flesh," -- the gratification of the outward senses, whether of the taste, or any other. Give no place to "the desire of the eye," -- the internal sense, or imagination, -- by gratifying it, either by grand things, or beautiful, or uncommon. Give no place to "the pride of life," -- the desire of wealth, of pomp, or of the honour that cometh of men. St. John confirms this advice by a consideration parallel to that observation which St. Paul had made to the Corinthians: "For the world and the fashion of it passeth away." [1 John 2:16, 17] "The fashion of it" -- all worldly objects, business, pleasures, cares, whatever now attracts our regard or attention -- "passeth away," -- is in the very act of passing, and will return no more. Therefore desire none of these fleeting things, but that glory which "abideth for ever."

18. Observe well: This is religion, and this alone; this alone is true Christian religion; not this or that opinion, or system of opinions, be they ever so true, ever so scriptural. It is true, this is commonly called faith. But those who suppose it to be religion are given up to a strong delusion to believe a lie, and if they suppose it to be a sure passport to heaven are in the high road to hell. Observe well: Religion is not harmlessness; which a careful observer of mankind properly terms hellish harmlessness, as it sends thousands to the bottomless pit. It is not morality; excellent as that is, when it is built on a right foundation, -- loving faith; but when otherwise, it is of no value in the sight of God. It is not formality, -- the most exact observance of all the ordinances of God. This, too, unless it be built on the right foundation, is no more pleasing to God, than "the cutting off a dog's neck." No: Religion is no less than living in eternity, and walking in eternity; and hereby walking in the love of God and man, in lowliness, meekness, and resignation. This, and this alone, is that "life which is hid with Christ in God." He alone who experiences this "dwells in God, and God in him." This alone is setting the crown upon Christ's head, and doing his "will on earth as it is done in heaven."

19. It will easily be observed, that this is the very thing that men of the world call enthusiasm, -- a word just fit for their purpose, because no man can tell either the meaning or even the derivation of it. If it has any determinate sense, it means a species of religious madness. Hence, when you speak your experience, they immediately cry out, "Much religion hath made thee mad." And all that you experience, either of the invisible or of the eternal world, they suppose to be only the waking dreams of a heated imagination. It cannot be otherwise, when men born blind take upon them to reason concerning light and colours. They will readily pronounce those to be insane who affirm the existence of those things whereof they have no conception.

20. From all that has been said, it may be seen, with the utmost clearness, what is the nature of that fashionable thing called dissipation. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear! It is the very quintessence of Atheism; it is artificial, added to natural, ungodliness. It is the art of forgetting God, of being altogether "without God in the world;" the art of excluding him, if not out of the world he has created, yet out of the minds of all his intelligent creatures. It is a total studied inattention to the whole invisible and eternal world; more especially to death, the gate of eternity, and to the important consequences of death, -- heaven and hell!

21. This is the real nature of dissipation. And is it so harmless a thing as it is usually thought? It is one of the choicest instruments of destroying immortal spirits that was ever forged in the magazines of hell. It has been the means of plunging myriads of souls, that might have enjoyed the glory of God, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. It blots out all religion at one stroke, and levels man with the beasts that perish. All ye that fear God, flee from dissipation! Dread and abhor the very name of it! Labour to have God in all your thoughts, to have eternity ever in your eye! "Look" continually, "not at the things that are seen, but at the things which are not seen." Let your hearts be fixed there, where "Christ sitteth at the right hand of God!" that whensoever he calleth you, "an entrance may be ministered unto you abundantly into his everlasting kingdom!"

London, December 30, 1788

[114] [text of the 1872 ed.]

Sermon 114: The Unity of the Divine Being

Sermon 114 [115]

The Unity of the Divine Being

"There is one God."

Mark 12:32.

1. And as there is one God, so there is one religion and one happiness for all men. God never intended there should be any more; and it is not possible there should. Indeed, in another sense, as the Apostle observes, "there are gods many, and lords many." All the heathen nations had their gods; and many, whole shoals of them. And generally, the more polished they were, the more gods they heaped up to themselves. But to us, to all that are favoured with the Christian Revelation, "there is but one God;" who declares himself, "Is there any God besides me? There is none; I know not any."

2. But who can search out this God to perfection? None of the creatures that he has made. Only some of his attributes he hath been pleased to reveal to us in his word. Hence we learn that God is an eternal Being. "His goings forth are from everlasting," and will continue to everlasting. As he ever was, so he ever will be; as there was no beginning of his existence, so there will be no end. This is universally allowed to be contained in his very name, Jehovah; which the Apostle John accordingly renders, "He that was, and that is, and that is to come." Perhaps it would be as proper to say, "He is from everlasting to everlasting."

3. Nearly allied to the eternity of God, is his omnipresence. As he exists through infinite duration, so he cannot but exist through infinite space; according to his own question, equivalent to the strongest assertion, -- "Do not I fill heaven and earth? saith the Lord;" (heaven and earth in the Hebrew idiom, implying the whole universe;) which, therefore, according to his own declaration, is filled with his presence.

4. This one, eternal, omnipresent Being is likewise all- perfect. He has, from eternity to eternity, all the perfections and infinitely more than it ever did or ever can enter into the heart of man to conceive; yea, infinitely more than the angels in heaven can conceive; These perfections we usually term, the attributes of God.

5. And he is omnipotent, as well as omnipresent; there can be no more bounds to his power, than to his presence. He "hath a mighty arm; strong is his hand, and high is his right hand." He doeth whatsoever pleaseth him, in the heavens, the earth, the sea, and in all deep places. With men we know many things are impossible, but not with God: With him "all things are possible." Whensoever he willeth, to do is present with him.

6. The omniscience of God is a clear and necessary consequence of his omnipresence. If he is present in every part of the universe, he cannot but know whatever is, or is done there; according to the word of St. James, "Known unto God are all his works," and the works of every creature, "from the beginning" of the world; or rather, as the phrase literally implies, "from eternity." His eyes are not only "over all the earth, beholding the evil and the good;" but likewise over the whole creation, yea, and the paths of uncreated night. Is there any difference between his knowledge and his wisdom? If there be, is not his knowledge the more general term, (at least, according to our weak conceptions.) and his wisdom a particular branch of it; namely, the knowing the end of everything that exists, and the means of applying it to that end.

7. Holiness is another of the attributes of the almighty, all-wise God. He is infinitely distant from every touch of evil. He "is light; and in him is no darkness at all." He is a God of unblemished justice and truth; but above all is his mercy. This we may easily learn from that beautiful passage in the thirty- third and fourth chapters of Exodus: "And Moses said, I beseech thee, show me thy glory. And the Lord descended in the cloud, and proclaimed the name of the Lord, -- The Lord, The Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, and forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin."

8. This God is a Spirit; not having such a body, such parts or passions, as men have. It was the opinion both of the ancient Jews and the ancient Christians, that He alone is a pure Spirit, totally separate from all matter; whereas they supposed all other spirits, even the highest angels, even cherubim and seraphim, to dwell in material vehicles, though of an exceeding light and subtile substance. At that point of duration which the infinite wisdom of God saw to be most proper, for reasons which lie hid in the abyss of his own understanding, not to be fathomed by any finite mind, God "called into being all that is;" created the heavens and the earth, together with all that they contain. "All things were created by him, and without him was not any thing made that was made." He created man, in particular, after his own image, to be "a picture of his own eternity." When he had raised man from the dust of the earth, he breathed into him an immortal spirit. Hence he is peculiarly called, "The Father of our spirits;" yea, "The Father of the spirits of all flesh."

9. He "made all things," as the wise man observes, "for himself;" "for his glory they were created." Not "as if he needed anything;" seeing "he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things." He made all things to be happy. He made man to be happy in Himself. He is the proper centre of spirits; for whom every created spirit was made. So true is that well-known saying of the ancient Fathers: Fecisti nos ad te: et irrequietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te: "Thou has made us for thyself; and our heart cannot rest, till it resteth in thee."

10. This observation gives us a clear answer to that question in the Assembly's Catechism: "For what end did God create man?" The answer is, "To glorify and enjoy him for ever." This is undoubtedly true; but is it quite clear, especially to men of ordinary capacities? Do the generality of common people understand that expression, "To glorify God?" No; no more than they understand Greek. And it is altogether above the capacity of children; to whom we can scare ever speak plain enough. Now, is not this the very principle that should be inculcated upon every human creature, -- "You are made to be happy in God," as soon as ever reason dawns? Should not every parent, as soon as a child begins to talk, or to run alone, say something of this kind: "See! what is that which shines so over your head? That we call the sun. See, how bright it is! Feel how it warms you! It makes the grass to spring, and everything to grow. But God made the sun. The sun could not shine, nor warm, nor do any good without him." In this plain and familiar way a wise parent might, many times in a day, say something of God; particularly insisting, "He made you; and he made you to be happy in him; and nothing else can make you happy." We cannot press this too soon. If you say, "Nay, but they cannot understand you when they are so young;" I answer, No; nor when they are fifty years old, unless God opens their understanding: And can he not do this at any age?

11. Indeed, this should be pressed on every human creature, young and old, the more earnestly and diligently, because so exceeding few, even of those that are called Christians, seem to know anything about it. Many indeed think of being happy with God in heaven; but the being happy in God on earth never entered into their thoughts. The less so, because from the time they come into the world, they are surrounded with idols. Such, in turns, are all "the things that are seen," (whereas God is not seen,) which all promise an happiness independent of God. Indeed, it is true that,

Upright both in heart and will

We by our God were made;

But we turn'd from good to ill,

And o'er the creatures stray'd;

Multiplied our wandering thought,

Which first was fix'd on God alone;

In ten thousand objects sought

The bliss we lost in one.

12. These idols, these rivals of God, are innumerable; but they may be nearly reduced to three parts. First. Objects of sense; such as gratify one or more of our outward senses. These excite the first kind of "love of the world," which St. John terms, "the desire of the flesh." Secondly. Objects of the imagination; things that gratify our fancy, by their grandeur, beauty, or novelty. All these make us fair promises of happiness, and thereby prevent our seeking it in God. This the Apostle terms, "the desire of the eyes;" whereby, chiefly, the imagination is gratified. They are, Thirdly, what St. John calls, "the pride of life." He seems to mean honour, wealth, and whatever directly tends to engender pride.

13. But suppose we were guarded against all these, are there not other idols which we have need to be apprehensive of; and idols, therefore, the more dangerous, because we suspect no danger from them? For is there any danger to be feared from our friends and relations; from the mutual endearments of husbands and wives, or of parents and children? Ought we not to bear a very tender affection to them? Ought we not to love them only less than God? Yea, and is there not a tender affection due to those whom God has made profitable to our souls? Are we not commanded to "esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake?" All this is unquestionably true; and this very thing makes the difficulty. Who is sufficient for this? -- to go far enough herein, and no farther? to love them enough, and not too much? Can we love a wife, a child, a friend, well enough, without loving the creature more than the creator? Who is able to follow the caution which St. Paul gives to the Christians at Thessalonica? (1 Thess. 4:5.)

14. I wish that weighty passage (so strangely disguised in our translation) were duly considered: "Let every one of you know how to possess his vessel," his wife, "in sanctification and honour;" so as neither to dishonour God nor himself; nor to obstruct, but further, holiness. St. Paul goes on, me en pathei epithymias, which we render, Not in the lust of concupiscence, (What is this? It gives the english reader no conception at all. pathos means any violent or impetuous affection. epithymia is desire. By the two words the Apostle undoubtedly means vehement and impetuous affections,) -- "as the Gentiles who know not God," and so may naturally seek happiness in a creature.

15. If, by the grace of God, we have avoided or forsaken all these idols, there is still one more dangerous than all the rest; that is, religion. It will easily be conceived, I mean false religion; that is, any religion which does not imply the giving of the heart to God. Such is, First, a religion of opinions; or what is called orthodoxy. Into this snare fall thousands of those who profess to hold "salvation by faith;" indeed, all of those who, by faith, mean only a system of Arminian or Calvinian opinions. Such is, Secondly, a religion of forms; of barely outward worship, how constantly soever performed; yea, though we attend the Church Service every day, and the Lord's Supper every Sunday. Such is, Thirdly, a religion of works; of seeking the favour of God by doing good to men. Such is, Lastly, a religion of Atheism; that is, every religion whereof God is not laid for the foundation. In a word, a religion wherein "God in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself," is not the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last point.

16. True religion is right tempers towards God and man. It is, in two words, gratitude and benevolence; gratitude to our Creator and supreme Benefactor, and benevolence to our fellow creatures. In other words, it is the loving God with all our heart, and our neighbour as ourselves.

17. It is in consequence of our knowing God loves us, that we love him, and love our neighbour as ourselves. Gratitude towards our Creator cannot but produce benevolence to our fellow creatures. The love of Christ constrains us, not only to be harmless, to do no ill to our neighbour, but to be useful, to be "zealous of good works;" "as we have time, to do good unto all men;" and to be patterns to all of true, genuine morality; of justice, mercy, and truth. This is religion, and this is happiness; the happiness for which we were made. This begins when we begin to know God, by the teaching of his own Spirit. As soon as the Father of spirits reveals his Son in our hearts, and the Son reveals his Father, the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts; then, and not till then, we are happy. We are happy, first, in the consciousness of his favour, which indeed is better than life itself; next, in the constant communion with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ; then, in all the heavenly tempers which he hath wrought in us by his Spirit; again, in the testimony of his Spirit, that all our works please him; and, lastly, in the testimony of our own spirits, that "in simplicity and godly sincerity we have had our conversation in the world." Standing fast in this liberty from sin and sorrow, wherewith Christ hath made them free, real Christians "rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks." And their happiness still increases as they "grow up into the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ."

18. But how little is this religion experienced, or even thought of, in the Christian world! On the contrary, what reason have we to take up the lamentation of a dying saint, (Mr. Haliburton, of St. Andrew's in Scotland,) "O Sirs, I am afraid a kind of rational religion is more and more prevailing amongst us; a religion that has nothing of Christ belonging to it; nay, that has not only nothing of Christ, but nothing of God in it!" And indeed how generally does this prevail, not only among professed infidels, but also among those who call themselves Christians; who profess to believe the Bible to be the word of God! Thus our own countryman, Mr. Wollaston, in that elaborate work, "The Religion of Nature Delineated," presents us with a complete system of religion, without anything of God about it; without being beholden, in any degree, to either the Jewish or Christian revelation. Thus Monsieur Burlomachi, of Geneva, in his curious "Treatise on the Law of Nature," does not make any more use of the Bible than if he had never seen it. And thus the late Professor Hutcheson, of Glasgow, (a stranger writer than either of the other,) is so far from grounding virtue on either the fear or the love of God, that he quite shuts God out of the question; not scrupling to declare, in express terms, that a regard to God is inconsistent with virtue; insomuch that, if in doing a beneficent action you expect God to reward it, the virtue of the action is lost: It is then not a virtuous but a selfish action.

19. Perhaps, indeed, there are not many who carry the matter to so great a length. But how great is the number of those who, allowing religion to consist of two branches, -- our duty to God, and our duty to our neighbour, -- entirely forget the first part, and put the second part for the whole, -- for the entire duty of man! Thus almost all men of letters, both in England, France, Germany, yea, and all the civilized countries of Europe, extol humanity to the skies, as the very essence of religion. To this the great triumvirate, Rousseau, Voltaire, and David Hume, have contributed all their labours, sparing no pains to establish a religion which should stand on its own foundation, independent on any revelation whatever; yea, not supposing even the being of a God. So leaving Him, if he has any being, to himself, they have found out both a religion and a happiness which have no relation at all to God, nor any dependence upon him.

20. It is no wonder that this religion should grow fashionable, and spread far and wide in the world. But call it humanity, virtue, morality, or what you please, it is neither better nor worse than Atheism. Men hereby wilfully and designedly put asunder what God has joined, -- the duties of the first and the second table. It is separating the love of our neighbour from the love of God. It is a plausible way of thrusting God out of the world he has made. They can do the business without him; and so either drop him entirely, not considering him at all, or suppose that since

He gave things their beginning,

And set this whirligig a-spinning, he has not concerned himself with these trifles, but let every thing take its own course.

21. On the contrary, we have the fullest evidence that the eternal, omnipresent, almighty, all-wise Spirit, as he created all things, so he continually superintends whatever he has created. He governs all, not only to the bounds of creation, but through the utmost extent of space; and not only through the short time that is measured by the earth and sun, but from everlasting to everlasting. We know that as all nature, so all religion, and all happiness, depend on him; and we know that whoever teach to seek happiness without him are monsters, and the pests of society.

22. But after all the vain attempts of learned or unlearned men, it will be found, as there is but one God, so there is but one happiness, and one religion. And both of these centre in God. Both by Scripture and by experience we know that an unholy, and therefore an unhappy, man, seeking rest, but finding none, is sooner or later convinced that sin is the ground of his misery; and cries out of the deep to Him that is able to save, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" It is not long before he finds "redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins." Then "the Father reveals his Son" in his heart; and he "calls Jesus, Lord, by the Holy Ghost." And then the love of God is "shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Spirit which is given unto him." From this principle springs real, disinterested benevolence to all mankind; making him humble, meek, gentle to all men, easy to be entreated, -- to be convinced of what is right, and persuaded to what is good; inviolably patient, with a thankful acquiescence in every step of his adorable providence. This is religion, even the whole mind which was also in Christ Jesus. And has any man the insolence or the stupidity to deny that this is happiness; yea, that it

Yields more of happiness below

Than victors in a triumph know?

23. There can be no doubt but from this love to God and man a suitable conversation will follow. His "communication," that is, discourse, will "be always in grace, seasoned with salt, and meet to minister grace to the hearers." He will always "open his mouth with wisdom, and there will be in his tongue the law of kindness." Hence his affectionate words will "distil as the dew, and as the rain upon the tender herb." And men will know, it is not he only that speaks, but the Spirit of the Father that speaketh in him. His actions will spring from the same source with his words; even from the abundance of a loving heart. And while all these aim at the glory of God, and tend to this one point, whatever he does, he may truly say, --

End of my every action thou,

In all things thee I see:

Accept my hallow'd labour now,

I do it as to thee!

24. He to whom this character belongs, and he alone, is a Christian. To him the one, eternal, omnipresent, all-perfect Spirit, is the "Alpha and Omega, the first and the last;" not his Creator only, but his Sustainer, his Preserver, his Governor; yea, his Father, his Savior, Sanctifier, and Comforter. This God is his God, and his All, in time and in eternity. It is the benevolence springing from this root which is pure and undefiled religion. But if it be built on any other foundation, as it is of no avail in the sight of God, so it brings no real, solid, permanent happiness to man, but leaves him still a poor, dry, indigent, and dissatisfied creature.

25. Let all therefore that desire to please God condescend to be taught of God, and take care to walk in that path which God himself hath appointed. Beware of taking half of this religion for the whole; but take both parts of it together. And see that you begin where God himself begins: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." Is not this the first, our Lord himself being the Judge, as well as the great, commandment? First, therefore, see that ye love God; next, your neighbour, -- every child of man. From this fountain let every temper, every affection, every passion flow. So shall that "mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." Let all your thoughts, words, and actions spring from this! So shall you "inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world." Preached at DUBLIN, April 9, 1789.

[115] (text from the 1872 edition)

Sermon 115: The Ministerial Office

Sermon 115 [116]

The Ministerial Office [117] [118]

"No man taketh this honour unto himself but he that is called of God, as was Aaron."

Hebrews 5:4.

1. There are exceeding few texts of Holy Scripture which have been more frequently urged than this against laymen, that are neither Priests nor Deacons, and yet take upon them to preach. Many have asked, "How dare any take this honour to himself, unless he be called of God, as was Aaron?'" And a pious and sensible clergyman some years ago published a sermon on these words, wherein he endeavours to show that it is not enough to be inwardly called of God to preach, as many imagine themselves to be, unless they are outwardly called by men sent of God for that purpose, as Aaron was called of God by Moses.

2. But there is one grievous flaw in this argument, as often as it has been urged. "Called of God, as was Aaron!" But Aaron did not preach at all: He was not called to it either by God or man. Aaron was called to minister in holy things; -- to offer up prayers and sacrifices; to execute the office of a Priest. But he was never called to be a Preacher.

3. In ancient times the office of a Priest and that of a Preacher were known to be entirely distinct. And so everyone will be convinced that impartially traces the matter from the beginning. From Adam to Noah it is allowed by all that the first-born in every family was of course the priest in that family, by virtue of his primogeniture. But this gave him no right to be a Preacher, or (in the scriptural language) a Prophet. This office not unfrequently belonged to the youngest branch of the family. For in this respect God always asserted his right to send by whom he would send.

4. From the time of Noah to that of Moses the same observation may be made. The eldest of the family was the Priest, but any other might be the Prophet. This, the office of Priest, we find Esau inherited by virtue of his birth-right, till he profanely sold it to Jacob for a mess of pottage. And this it was which he could never recover, "though he sought it carefully with tears."

5. Indeed in the time of Moses a very considerable change was made with regard to the priesthood. God then appointed that instead of the first-born in every house a whole tribe should be dedicated to him; and that all that afterwards ministered unto him as priests should be of that tribe. Thus Aaron was of the tribe of Levi. And so likewise was Moses. But he was not a Priest, though he was the greatest Prophet that ever lived before God brought his First-begotten into the world. Meantime, not many of the Levites were Prophets. And if any were, it was a mere accidental thing. They were not such as being of that tribe. Many, if not most of the Prophets (as we are informed by the ancient Jewish writers), were of the tribe of Simeon. And some were of the tribe of Benjamin or Judah, and probably of other tribes also.

6. But we have reason to believe there were, in every age, two sorts of Prophets. The extraordinary, such as Nathan, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and many others, on whom the Holy Ghost came in an extraordinary manner. Such was Amos in particular, who saith of himself: "I was no Prophet, neither a Prophet's son; but I was an herdman: And the Lord said unto me, Go, prophesy unto my people Israel." The ordinary were those who were educated in "the schools of the Prophets," one of which was at Ramah, over which Samuel presided. (1 Sam. 19:18.) These were trained up to instruct the people, and were the ordinary preachers in their synagogues. In the New Testament they are usually termed scribes, or nomikoi, "expounders of the law." But few, if any of them, were Priests. These were all along a different order.

7. Many learned men have shown at large that our Lord himself, and all his Apostles, built the Christian Church as nearly as possible on the plan of the Jewish. So, the great High-Priest of our profession sent apostles and evangelists to proclaim glad tidings to all the world; and then Pastors, Preachers, and Teachers, to build up in the faith the congregations that should be found. But I do not find that ever the office of an Evangelist was the same with that of a Pastor, frequently called a Bishop. He presided over the flock, and administered the sacraments: The former assisted him, and preached the Word, either in one or more congregations. I cannot prove from any part of the New Testament, or from any author of the three first centuries, that the office of an evangelist gave any man a right to act as a Pastor or Bishop. I believe these offices were considered as quite distinct from each other till the time of Constantine.

8. Indeed in that evil hour when Constantine the Great called himself a Christian, and poured in honour and wealth upon the Christians, the case was widely altered. It soon grew common for one man to take the whole charge of a congregation, in order to engross the whole pay. Hence the same person acted as Priest and Prophet, as Pastor and Evangelist. And this gradually spread more and more throughout the whole Christian Church. Yet even at this day, although the same person usually discharges both those offices, yet the office of an Evangelist or Teacher does not imply that of a Pastor, to whom peculiarly belongs the administration of the sacraments; neither among the Presbyterians, nor in the Church of England, nor even among the Roman Catholics. All Presbyterian Churches, it is well known, that of Scotland in particular, license men to preach before they are ordained, throughout that whole kingdom. And it is never understood that this appointment to preach gives them any right to administer the sacraments. Likewise in our own Church, persons may be authorized to preach, yea, may be Doctors of Divinity, (as was Dr. Alwood at Oxford, when I resided there,) who are not ordained at all, and consequently have no right to administer the Lord's Supper. Yea, even in the Church of Rome itself, if a lay-brother believes he is called to go a mission, as it is termed, he is sent out, though neither priest nor deacon, to execute that office, and not the other.

9. But may it not be thought that the case now before us is different from all these? Undoubtedly in many respects it is. Such a phenomenon has now appeared as has not appeared in the Christian world before, at least not for many ages. Two young men sowed the word of God, not only in the churches, but likewise literally "by the high-way side;" and indeed in every place where they saw an open door, where sinners had ears to hear. They were members of the Church of England, and had no design of separating from it. And they advised all that were of it to continue therein, although they joined the Methodist society; for this did not imply leaving their former congregation, but only leaving their sins. The Churchmen might go to church still; the Presbyterian, Anabaptist, Quaker, might still retain their own opinions, and attend their own congregations. The having a real desire to flee from the wrath to come was the only condition required of them. Whosoever, therefore "feared God and worked righteousness" was qualified for this society.

10. Not long after, a young man, Thomas Maxfield, offered himself to serve them as a son in the gospel. And then another, Thomas Richards, and a little after a third, Thomas Westell. Let it be well observed on what terms we received these, viz., as Prophets, not as Priests. We received them wholly and solely to preach; not to administer sacraments. And those who imagine these offices to be inseparably joined are totally ignorant of the constitution of the whole Jewish as well as Christian Church. Neither the Romish, nor the English, nor the Presbyterian Churches, ever accounted them so. Otherwise we should never have accepted the service, either of Mr. Maxfield, Richards, or Westell.

11. In 1744, all the Methodist preachers had their first Conference. But none of them dreamed, that the being called to preach gave them any right to administer sacraments. And when that question was proposed, "In what light are we to consider ourselves?" it was answered, "As extraordinary messengers, raised up to provoke the ordinary ones to jealousy." In order hereto, one of our first rules was, given to each Preacher, you are to do that part of the work which we appoint." But what work was this? Did we ever appoint you to administer sacraments; to exercise the priestly office? Such a design never entered into our mind; it was the farthest from our thoughts: And if any Preacher had taken such a step, we should have looked upon it as a palpable breach of this rule, and consequently as a recantation of our connexion.

12. For, supposing (what I utterly deny) that the receiving you as a Preacher, at the same time gave an authority to administer the sacraments; yet it gave you no other authority than to do it, or anything else, where I appoint. But where did I appoint you to do this? Nowhere at all. Therefore, by this very rule you are excluded from doing it. And in doing it you renounce the first principle of Methodism, which was wholly and solely to preach the gospel.

13. It was several years after our society was formed, before any attempt of this kind was made. The first was, I apprehend, at Norwich. One of our Preachers there yielded to the importunity of a few of the people, and baptized their children. But as soon as it was known, he was informed it must not be, unless he designed to leave our Connexion. He promised to do it no more; and I suppose he kept his promise.

14. Now, as long as the Methodists keep to this plan, they cannot separate from the Church. And this is our peculiar glory. It is new upon the earth. Revolve all the histories of the Church, from the earliest ages, and you will find, whenever there was a great work of God in any particular city or nation, the subjects of that work soon said to their neighbours, "Stand by yourselves, for we are holier than you!" As soon as ever they separated themselves, either they retired into deserts, or they built religious houses; or at least formed parties, into which none was admitted but such as subscribed both to their judgment and practice. But with the Methodists it is quite otherwise: They are not a sect or party; they do not separate from the religious community to which they at first belonged. They are still members of the Church; -- such they desire to live and to die. And I believe one reason why God is pleased to continue my life so long is, to confirm them in their present purpose, not to separate from the Church.

15. But, notwithstanding this, many warm men say, "Nay, but you do separate from the Church." Others are equally warm, because they say, I do not. I will nakedly declare the thing as it is.

I hold all the doctrines of the Church of England. I love her liturgy. I approve her plan of discipline, and only wish it could be put in execution. I do not knowingly vary from any rule of the Church, unless in those few instances, where I judge, and as far as I judge, there is an absolute necessity.

For instance: (1.) As few clergymen open their churches to me, I am under the necessity of preaching abroad.

(2.) As I know no forms that will suit all occasions, I am often under a necessity of praying extempore.

(3.) In order to build up the flock of Christ in faith and love, I am under a necessity of uniting them together, and of dividing them into little companies, that they may provoke one another to love and good works.

(4.) That my fellow-labourers and I may more effectually assist each other, to save our own souls and those that hear us, I judge it necessary to meet the Preachers, or at least the greater part of them, once a year.

(5.) In those Conferences we fix the stations of all the Preachers for the ensuing year.

But all this is not separating from the Church. So far from it that whenever I have opportunity I attend the Church service myself, and advise all our societies so to do.

16. Nevertheless as [to] the generality even of religious people, who do not understand my motives of acting, and who on the one hand hear me profess that I will not separate from the Church, and on the other that I do vary from it in these instances, they will naturally think I am inconsistent with myself. And they cannot but think so, unless they observe my two principles: The one, that I dare not separate from the Church, that I believe it would be a sin so to do; the other, that I believe it would be a sin not to vary from it in the points above mentioned. I say, put these two principles together, First, I will not separate from the Church; yet, Secondly, in cases of necessity I will vary from it (both of which I have constantly and openly avowed for upwards of fifty years,) and inconsistency vanishes away. I have been true to my profession from 1730 to this day.

17. "But is it not contrary to your profession to permit service in Dublin at Church hours? For what necessity is there for this? or what good end does it answer?" I believe it answers several good ends, which could not so well be answered any other way. The First is, (strange as it may sound,) to prevent a separation from the Church. Many of our society were totally separated from the Church; they never attended it at all. But now they duly attend the Church every first Sunday in the month. "But had they not better attend it every week?" Yes; but who can persuade them to it? I cannot. I have strove to do it twenty or thirty years, but in vain. The Second is, the weaning them from attending Dissenting Meetings, which many of them attended constantly, but have now wholly left. The Third is, the constantly hearing that sound doctrine which is able to save their souls.

18. I wish all of you who are vulgarly termed Methodists would seriously consider what has been said. And particularly you whom God hath commissioned to call sinners to repentance. It does by no means follow from hence that ye are commissioned to baptize, or to administer the Lord's Supper. Ye never dreamed of this, for ten or twenty years after ye began to preach. Ye did not then, like Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, "seek the priesthood also." Ye knew, "no man taketh this honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron." O contain yourselves within your own bounds; be content with preaching the gospel; "do the work of Evangelists;" proclaim to all the world the lovingkindness of God our Saviour; declare to all, "The kingdom of heaven is at hand: Repent ye, and believe the gospel!" I earnestly advise you, abide in your place; keep your own station. Ye were, fifty years ago, those of you that were then Methodist Preachers, extraordinary messengers of God, not going in your own will, but thrust out, not to supersede, but to "provoke to jealousy" the ordinary messengers. In God's name, stop there! Both by your preaching and example provoke them to love and to good works. Ye are a new phenomenon in the earth, -- a body of people who, being of no sect or party, are friends to all parties, and endeavour to forward all in heart religion, in the knowledge and love of God and man. Ye yourselves were at first called in the Church of England; and though ye have and will have a thousand temptations to leave it, and set up for yourselves, regard them not. Be Church-of-England men still; do not cast away the peculiar glory which God hath put upon you, and frustrate the design of Providence, the very end for which God raised you up.

19. I would add a few words to those serious people who are not connected with the Methodists; many of whom are of our own Church, the Church of England. And why should ye be displeased with us? We do you no harm; we do not design or desire to offend you in anything; we hold your doctrines; we observe your rules, more than do most of the people in the kingdom. Some of you are Clergymen. And why should ye, of all men, be displeased with us? We neither attack your character, nor your revenue; we honour you for "your work's sake!" If we see some things which we do not approve of; we do not publish them; we rather cast a mantle over them, and hide what we cannot commend. When ye treat us unkindly or unjustly, we suffer it. "Being reviled, we bless;" we do not return railing for railing. O let not your hand be upon us!

20. Ye that are rich in this world, count us not your enemies because we tell you the truth, and, it may be, in a fuller and stronger manner than any others will or dare do. Ye have therefore need of us, inexpressible need. Ye cannot buy such friends at any price. All your gold and silver cannot purchase such. Make use of us while ye may. If it be possible, never be without some of those who will speak the truth from their heart. Otherwise ye may grow grey in your sins; ye may say to your souls, "Peace, peace!" while there is no peace! Ye may sleep on, and dream ye are in the way to heaven, till ye awake in everlasting fire.

21. But whether ye will hear, or whether ye will forbear, we, by the grace of God, hold on our way; being ourselves still members of the Church of England, as we were from the beginning, but receiving all that love God in every Church as our brother, and sister, and mother. And in order to their union with us we require no unity in opinions, or in modes of worship, but barely that they "fear God and work righteousness," as was observed. Now this is utterly a new thing, unheard of in any other Christian community. In what Church or congregation beside, throughout the Christian world, can members be admitted upon these terms, without any other conditions? Point any such out, whoever can. I know none in Europe, Asia, Africa, or America! This is the glory of the Methodists, and of them alone! They are themselves no particular sect or party; but they receive those of all parties who "endeavour to do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly with their God." Cork, May 4, 1789

[116] [text of the 1872 Edition]

[117] [a.k.a. Prophets and Priests (Sermon 121 in the Bicentennial Edition)]

[118] [Respecting this Sermon the following information is given by Mr. Moore, in his "Life of Mr. Wesley," vol. ii., p. 339: -- "I was with Mr. Wesley in London when he published that Sermon. He had encouraged me to be a man of one book; and he had repeatedly invited me to speak fully whatever objection I had to any thing which he published. I thought that some things in that discourse were not to be found in THE BOOK; and I resolved to tell him so the first opportunity. It soon occurred. I respectfully observed that I agreed with him, that the Lord had always sent by whom He would send, instruction, reproof, and correction in righteousness, to mankind; and that there was a real distinction between the prophetic and priestly office in the Old Testament, and the prophetic and pastoral office in the New; (where no priesthood is mentioned but that of our Lord;) but I could not think that what he had said concerning the Evangelists and the Pastors, or Bishops, was agreeable to what we read there; viz., that the latter had a right to administer the sacraments, which the former did not possess. I observed, Sir, you know that the Evangelists Timothy and Titus were ordered by the Apostle to ordain Bishops in every place; and surely they could not impart to them an authority which they did not themselves possess.' He looked earnestly at me for some time, but not with displeasure. He made no reply, and soon introduced another subject. I said no more. The man of one book would not dispute against it. I believe, he saw, his love to the Church, from which he never deviated unnecessarily, had, in this instance, led him a little too far." -- EDIT.]

Sermon 116: Causes of the Inefficacy of Christianity

Sermon 116 [119]

Causes of the Inefficacy of Christianity

"Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? Why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?"

Jer. 8:22

1. This question, as here proposed by the Prophet, relates only to a particular people, -- the children of Israel. But I would here consider it in a general sense, with relation to all mankind. I would seriously inquire, Why has Christianity done so little good in the world ? Is it not the balm, the outward means, which the great Physician has given to men, to restore their spiritual health? Why then is it not restored? You say, Because of the deep and universal corruption of human nature. Most true; but here is the very difficulty. Was it not intended, by our all-wise and almighty Creator, to be the remedy for that corruption? A universal remedy, for a universal evil? But it has not answered this intention it never did; it does not answer it at this day. The disease still remains in its full strength: Wickedness of every kind; vice, inward and outward, in all its forms, still overspreads the face of the earth.

2. O Lord God, "righteous art thou! Yet let us plead with thee." How is this? Hast thou forgotten the world thou hast made; which thou hast created for thy own glory? Canst thou despise the work of thy own hands, the purchase of thy Son's blood? Thou hast given medicine to heal our sickness; yet our sickness is not healed. Yet darkness covers the earth, and thick darkness the people; yea,

Darkness such as devils feel,

Issuing from the pit of hell.

3. What a mystery is this, that Christianity should have done so little good in the world! Can any account of this be given? Can any reasons be assigned for it? Does it not seem that one reason it has done so little good is this, -- because it is so little known? Certainly it can do no good where it is not known. But it is not known at this day to the far greater part the inhabitants of the earth. In the last century, our ingenious and laborious countryman, Mr. Brerewood, travelled over great part of the known world on purpose to inquire, so far as was possible, what proportion the Christians bear to the Heathens and Mahometans. And, according to his computation, (probably the most accurate which has yet been made,) I suppose mankind to be divided into thirty parts, nineteen parts of these are still open Heathens, having no more knowledge of Christianity than the beasts that perish. And we may add to these the numerous nations which have been discovered in the present century. Add to these such as profess the Mahometan religion, and utterly scorn Christianity; and twenty-five parts out of thirty of mankind are not so much as nominally Christians. So then five parts of mankind out of six are totally ignorant of Christianity. It is, therefore, no wonder that five in six of mankind, perhaps nine in ten, have no advantage from it.

4. But why is it that so little advantage is derived from it to the Christian world? Are Christians any better than other men? Are they better than Mahometans or Heathens? To say the truth, it is well if they are not worse; worse than either Mahometans or Heathens. In many respects they are abundantly worse; but then they are not properly Christians. The generality of these, though they hear the Christian name, do not know what Christianity is. They no more understand it than they do Greek or Hebrew; therefore they can be no better for it. What do the Christians, so called, of the Eastern Church, dispersed throughout the Turkish dominions, know of genuine Christianity? those of the Morea, of Circassia, Mongrelia, Georgia? Are they not the very dregs of mankind? And have we reason to think that those of the Southern Church, those inhabiting Abyssinia, have any more conception than they, of "worshipping God in spirit and in truth?" Look we nearer home. See the Northern Churches; those that are under the Patriarch of Moscow. How exceedingly little do they know either of outward or inward Christianity! How many thousands, yea, myriads, of those poor savages know nothing of Christianity but the name! How little more do they know than the heathen Tartars on the one hand, or the heathen Chinese on the other!

5. But is not Christianity well known, at least, to all the inhabitants of the western world? a great part of which is eminently termed Christendom, or the land of Christians. Part of these are still members of the Church of Rome; part are termed Protestants. As to the former, Portuguese, Spaniards Italians, French, Germans, what do the hulk of them know of scriptural Christianity? Having had frequent opportunity of conversing with many of these, both at home and abroad, I am bold to affirm, that they are in general totally ignorant, both as to the theory and practice of Christianity; so that they are "perishing" by thousands "for lack of knowledge," -- for want of knowing the very first principles of Christianity.

6. "But surely this cannot be the case of the Protestants in France, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland; much less in Denmark and Sweden." Indeed I hope it is not altogether. I am persuaded, there are among them many knowing Christians; but I fear we must not think that one in ten, if one in fifty, is of this number; certainly not, if we may form a judgment of them by those we find in Great Britain and Ireland. Let us see how matters stand at our own door. Do the people of England, in general, (not the highest or the lowest; for these usually know nothing of the matter; but people of the middle rank,) understand Christianity? Do they conceive what it is? Can they give an intelligible account, either of the speculative or practical part of it? What know they of the very first principles of it? -- of the natural and moral attributes of God; of his particular providence; of the redemption of man; of the offices of Christ; of the operations of the Holy Ghost; of justification; of the new birth; of inward and outward sanctification? speak of any of these things to the first ten persons you are in company with; and will you not find nine out of the ten ignorant of the whole affair? And are not most of the inhabitants of the Scotch Highlands full as ignorant as these; yea, and the common people in Ireland? (I mean the Protestants, of whom alone we are now speaking.) Make a fair inquiry, not only in the country cabins, but in the cities of Cork, Waterford, Limerick; yea, in Dublin itself. How few know what Christianity means! How small a number will you find that have any conception of the analogy of faith! of the connected chain of scripture truths, and their relation to each other, -- namely, the natural corruption of man; justification by faith; the new birth; inward and outward holiness. It must be acknowledged by all competent judges, who converse freely with their neighbours in these kingdoms, that a vast majority of them know no more of these things than they do of Hebrew or Arabic. And what good can Christianity do to these, who are so totally ignorant of it?

7. However, in some parts, both of England and Ireland, scriptural Christianity is well known; especially in London, Bristol, Dublin, and almost all the large and populous cities and towns of both kingdoms. In these, every branch of Christianity is openly and largely declared; and thousands upon thousands continually hear and receive "the truth as it is in Jesus." Why is it then, that even in these parts Christianity has had so little effect? Why are the generality of the people, in all these places, Heathens still? no better than the Heathens of Africa or America, either in their tempers or in their lives? Now, how is this to be accounted for? I conceive, thus: It was a common saying among the Christians in the primitive Church, "The soul and the body make a man; the spirit and discipline make a Christian;" implying, that none could be real Christians, without the help of Christian discipline. But if this be so, is it any wonder that we find so few Christians; for where is Christian discipline? In what part of England (to go no farther) is Christian discipline added to Christian doctrine? Now, whatever doctrine is preached, where there is not discipline, it cannot have its full effect upon the hearers.

8. To bring the matter closer still. Is not scriptural Christianity preached and generally known among the people commonly called Methodists? Impartial persons allow it is. And have they not Christian discipline too, in all the essential branches of it, regularly and constantly exercised? Let those who think any essential part of it is wanting, point it out, and it shall not be wanting long. Why then are not these altogether Christians, who have both Christian doctrine and Christian discipline? Why is not the spiritual health of the people called Methodists recovered? Why is not all that "mind in us which was also in Christ Jesus?" Why have we not learned of him our very first lesson, to be meek and lowly of heart? to say with him, in all circumstances of life, "Not as I will, but as thou wilt? I come not to do my own will, but the will of him that sent me." Why are not we "crucified to the world, and the world crucified to us;" -- dead to the "desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, and the pride of life?" Why do not all of us live "the life that is hid with Christ in God?" O why do not we, that have all possible helps, "walk as Christ also walked?" Hath he not left us an example that we might tread in his steps? But do we regard either his example or precept? To instance only in one point: Who regards those solemn words, "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth?" Of the three rules which are laid down on this head, in the sermon on "The Mammon of Unrighteousness," you may find many that observe the First rule, namely, "Gain all you can." You may find a few that observe the Second, "Save all you can:"' But how many have you found that observe the Third rule, "Give all you can?" Have you reason to believe, that five hundred of these are to be found among fifty thousand Methodists? And yet nothing can be more plain, than that all who observe the two first rules without the third, will be twofold more the children of hell than ever they were before.

9. O that God would enable me once more, before I go hence and am no more seen, to lift up my voice like a trumpet to those who gain and save all they can, but do not give all they can! Ye are the men, some of the chief men, who continually grieve the Holy Spirit of God, and in a great measure stop his gracious influence from descending on our assemblies. Many of your brethren, beloved of God, have not food to eat; they have not raiment to put on; they have not a place where to lay their head. And why are they thus distressed? Because you impiously, unjustly, and cruelly detain from them what your Master and theirs lodges in your hands on purpose to supply their wants! See that poor member of Christ, pinched with hunger, shivering with cold, half naked! Meantime you have plenty of this world's goods, -- of meat, drink, and apparel. In the name of God, what are you doing? Do you neither fear God, nor regard man? Why do you not deal your bread to the hungry, and cover the naked with a garment? Have you laid out in your own costly apparel what would have answered both these intentions? Did God command you so to do? Does he commend you for so doing. Did he entrust you with his (not your) goods for this end? And does he now say, "Servant of God, well done?" You well know he does not. This idle expense has no approbation, either from God, or your own conscience. But you say you can afford it ! O be ashamed to take such miserable nonsense into your mouths! Never more litter such stupid cant; such palpable absurdity! Can any steward afford to be an arrant knave? to waste his Lord's goods? Can any servant afford to lay out his Master's money, any otherwise than his Master appoints him? So far from it, that whoever does this ought to be excluded from a Christian society.

10. "But is it possible to supply all the poor in our society with the necessaries of life?" It was possible once to do this, in a larger society than this. In the first Church at Jerusalem there was not any among them that lacked; but distribution was made to every one according as he had need." And we have full proof that it may be so still. It is so among the people called Quakers. Yea, and among the Moravians, so called. And why should it not be so with us? "Because they are ten times richer than we." Perhaps fifty times: And yet we are able enough, if we were equally willing, to do this.

A gentleman (a Methodist) told me some years since, "I shall leave forty thousand pounds among my children." Now, suppose he had left them but twenty thousand, and given the other twenty thousand to God and the poor, would God have said to him, "Thou fool?" And this would have set all the society far above want.

11. But I will not talk of giving to God, or leaving, half your fortune. You might think this to be too high a price for heaven. I will come to lower terms. Are there not a few among you that could give a hundred pounds, perhaps some that could give a thousand, and yet leave your children as much as would help them to work out their own salvation? With two thousand pounds, and not much less, we could supply the present wants of all our poor, and put them in a way of supplying their own wants for the time to come. Now, suppose this could be done, are we clear before God while it is not done? Is not the neglect of it one cause why so many are still sick and weak among you; and that both in soul and in body? that they still grieve the Holy Spirit, by preferring the fashions of the world to the commands of God? And I many times doubt whether we Preachers are not, in some measure, partakers of their sin. I am in doubt whether it is not a kind of partiality. I doubt whether it is not a great sin to keep them in our society. May it not hurt their souls, by encouraging them to persevere in walking contrary to the Bible? And may it not, in some measure, intercept the salutary influences of the blessed Spirit upon the whole community?

12. I am distressed. I know not what to do. I see what I might have done once. I might have said peremptorily and expressly, "Here I am: I and my Bible. I will not, I dare not, vary from this book, either in great things or small. I have no power to dispense with one jot or tittle what is contained therein. I am determined to be a Bible Christian, not almost, but altogether. Who will meet me on this ground? Join me on this, or not at all." With regard to dress, in particular, I might have been as firm (and I now see it would have been far better) as either the people called Quakers, or the Moravian Brethren: -- I might have said, "This is our manner of dress, which we know is both scriptural and rational. If you join with us, you are to dress as we do; but you need not join us, unless you please." But, alas! the time is now past; and what I can do now, I cannot tell.

13. But to return to the main question. Why has Christianity done so little good, even among us? among the Methodists, -- among them that hear and receive the whole Christian doctrine, and that have Christian discipline added thereto, in the most essential parts of it? Plainly, because we have forgot, or at least not duly attended to, those solemn words of our Lord, "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me." It was the remark of a holy man, several years ago, "Never was there before a people in the Christian Church, who had so much of the power of God among them, with so little self-denial." Indeed the work of God does go on, and in a surprising manner, notwithstanding this capital defect; but it cannot go on in the same degree as it otherwise would; neither can the word of God have its full effect, unless the hearers of it "deny themselves, and take up their cross daily."

14. It would be easy to show, in how many respects the Methodists, in general, are deplorably wanting in the practice of Christian self-denial; from which, indeed, they have been continually frighted by the silly outcries of the Antinomians. To instance only in one: While we were at Oxford, the rule of every Methodist was, (unless in case of sickness,) to fast every Wednesday and Friday in the year, in imitation of the Primitive Church; for which they had the highest reverence. Now this practice of the Primitive Church is universally allowed. "Who does not know," says Epiphanius, an ancient writer, "that the fasts of the fourth and sixth days of the week" (Wednesday and Friday) "are observed by the Christians throughout the whole world." So they were by the Methodists for several years; by them all, without any exception; but afterwards, some in London carried this to excess, and fasted so as to impair their health. It was not long before others made this a pretence for not fasting at all. And I fear there are now thousand of Methodists, so called, both in England and Ireland, who, following the same bad example, have entirely left off fasting; who are so far from fasting twice in the week, (as all the stricter Pharisees did,) that they do not fast twice in the month. Yea, are there not some of you who do not fast one day from the beginning of the year to the end? But what excuse can there for this? I do not say for those that call themselves members of the Church of England; but for any who profess to believe the Scripture to be the word of God. Since, according to this, the man that never fasts is no more in the way to heaven, than the man that never prays.

15. But can any one deny that the members of the Church of Scotland fast constantly; particularly on their sacramental occasions? In some parishes they return only once a year; but in others, suppose in large cities, they occur twice, or even thrice, a year. Now, it is well known there is always a fast-day in the week preceding the administration of the Lord's Supper. But, occasionally looking into a book of accounts in one of their vestries, I observed so much set down for the dinners of the Ministers on the fast-day; and I am informed there is the same article in them all. And is there any doubt but the people fast just as their Ministers do? But what a farce is this! What a miserable burlesque upon a plain Christian duty! O that the General Assembly would have regard to the honour of their nation! Let them roll away from it this shameful reproach, by either enforcing the duty, or removing that article from their books. Let it never appear there any more! Let it vanish away for ever

16. But why is self-denial in general so little practised at present among the Methodists? Why is so exceedingly little of it to be found even in the oldest and largest societies? The more I observe and consider things, the more clearly it appears what is the cause of this in London, in Bristol, in Birmingham, in Manchester, in Leeds, in Dublin, in Cork. The Methodists grow more and more self-indulgent, because they grow rich. Although many of them are still deplorably poor; ("tell it not in Gath; publish it not in the streets of Askelon!") yet many others, in the space of twenty, thirty, or forty years, are twenty, thirty, yea, a hundred times richer than they were when they first entered the society. And it is an observation which admits of few exceptions, that nine in ten of these decreased in grace, in the same proportion as they increased in wealth. Indeed, according to the natural tendency of riches, we cannot expect it to be otherwise.

17. But how astonishing a thing is this! How can we understand it? Does it not seem (and yet this cannot be) that Christianity, true scriptural Christianity, has a tendency, in process of time, to undermine and destroy itself? For wherever true Christianity spreads, it must cause diligence and frugality, which), in the natural course of things, must beget riches! and riches naturally beget pride, love of the world, and every temper that is destructive of Christianity. Now, if there be no way to prevent this, Christianity is inconsistent with itself, and, of consequence, cannot stand, cannot continue long among any people; since, wherever it generally prevails, it saps its own foundation.

18. But is there no way to prevent this? -- to continue Christianity among a people? Allowing that diligence and frugality must produce riches, is there no means to hinder riches from destroying the religion of those that possess them? I can see only one possible way; find out another who can. Do you gain all you can, and save all you can? Then you must, in the nature of things, grow rich. Then if you have any desire to escape the damnation of hell, give all you can; otherwise I can have no more hope of your salvation, than of that of Judas Iscariot.

19. I call God to record upon my soul, that I advise no more than I practise. I do, blessed be God, gain, and save, and give all I can. And so, I trust in God, I shall do, while the breath of God is in my nostrils. But what then? I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus my Lord! Still,

I give up every plea beside, --

Lord, I am damn'd! but thou hast died!

Dublin, July 2, 1789.

[119] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 117: On Knowing Christ after the Flesh

Sermon 117 [120]

On Knowing Christ after the Flesh

"Henceforth know we no man after the flesh; yea, though we did know Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him no more."

2 Cor. 5:16.

1. I have long desired to see something clearly and intelligibly wrote on these words. This is doubtless a point of no small importance: it enters deep into the nature of religion; and yet what treatise have we in the English language which is written upon it? Possibly there may be such; but none of them has come to my notice, no, not so much as a single sermon.'

2. This is here introduced by the Apostle in a very solemn manner. The words literally translated run thus: He died for all, that the who live', all who live upon the earth, might not henceforth from the moment they knew him, live unto themselves seek their own honour, or profit, or pleasure, "but unto him," in righteousness and true holiness. (2 Cor. 5:15) "So that we from this time," we that know him by faith, "know no one," either the rest of the Apostles, or you, or any other person, "after the flesh." This uncommon expression, on which the whole doctrine depends, seems to mean, we regard no man according to his former state, -- his country, riches, power, or wisdom. We consider all men only in their spiritual state, and as they stand related to a better world. Yea, if we have known even Christ after the flesh, (which undoubtedly they had done, beholding and loving him as a man, with a natural affection,) yet now we know him so no more. We no more know him as a man, by his face, shape, voice, or manner of conversation. We no more think of him as a man, or love him under that character.

3. The meaning, then, of this strongly figurative expression appears to be no other than this. From the time that we are created anew in Christ Jesus we do not think, or speak, or act, with regard to our blessed Lord, as a mere man. We do not now use any expression with relation to Christ which may not be applied to him not only as he is man, but as he is "God over all, blessed for ever."

4. Perhaps in order to place this in a clearer light, and at the same time guard against dangerous errors, it may be well to instance in some of those that in the most plain and palpable manner "know Christ after the flesh." We may rank among the first of these the Socinians; those who flatly "deny the Lord that bought them;" who not only do not allow him to be the supreme God, but deny him to be any God at all. I believe the most eminent of these that has appeared in England, at least in the present century, was a man of great learning and uncommon abilities, Dr. John Taylor, for many years pastor at Norwich, afterwards President at the Academy at Warrington. Yet it cannot be denied that he treats our Lord with great civility; he gives him very good words; he terms him a very worthy personage;" yea, "a man of consummate virtue'

5. Next to these are the Arians. But I would not be thought to place these in the same rank with the Socinians. There is a considerable difference between them. For whereas the former deny Christ to be any God at all, the latter do not; they only deny him to be the great God. They willingly allow, nay, contend, that he is a little God. But this is attended with a peculiar inconvenience. It totally destroys the unity of the Godhead. For, if there be a great God and a little God, there must be two Gods. But waiving this and keeping to the point before us: all who speak of Christ as inferior to the Father, though it be ever so little, do undoubtedly "know him after the flesh;" not as "the brightness of the Father's glory, the express image of his person; as upholding," bearing up, "all things," both in heaven and earth, "by the word of his power," -- the same powerful word whereby of old time he called them all into being.

6. There are some of these who have been bold to claim that great and good man Dr. Watts, as one of their own opinion; and in order to prove him so they have quoted that fine soliloquy which is published in his posthumous works. Yet impartial men will not allow their claim without stronger proof than has yet appeared. But if he is clear of this charge, he is not equally clear of "knowing Christ after the flesh" in another sense. I was not aware of this, but read all his works with almost equal admiration, when a person of deep piety as well as judgment was occasionally remarking that some of the hymns printed in his Horae Lyricae, dedicated to Divine Love, were (as he phrased it) "too amorous, and fitter to be addressed by a lover to his fellow-mortal, than by a sinner to the most High God." I doubt whether there are not some other writers who, though they believe the Godhead of Christ, yet speak in the same unguarded manner.

7. Can we affirm that the hymns published by a late great man (whose memory I love and esteem) are free from this fault? Are they not full of expressions which strongly savour of "knowing Christ after the flesh?" Yea, and in a more gross manner than anything which was ever before published in the English tongue. What pity is it that those coarse expressions should appear in many truly spiritual hymns! How often, in the midst of excellent verses, are lines inserted which disgrace those that precede and follow! Why should not all the compositions in that book be not only as poetical, but likewise as rational and as scriptural, as many of them are acknowledged to be?

8. It was between fifty and sixty years ago that by the gracious providence of God my brother and I in our voyage to America became acquainted with the (so called) Moravian Brethren. We quickly took knowledge what spirit they were of, six-and-twenty of them being in the same ship with us. We not only contracted much esteem, but a strong affection for them. Every day we conversed with them, and consulted them on all occasions. I translated many of their hymns for the use of our own congregations. Indeed, as I durst not implicitly follow any men, I did not take all that lay before me, but selected those which I judged to be most scriptural, and most suitable to sound experience. Yet I am not sure that I have taken sufficient care to pare off every improper word or expression, -- every one that may seem to border on a familiarity which does not so well suit the mouth of a worm of the earth when addressing himself to the God of heaven. I have indeed particularly endeavoured, in all the hymns which are addressed to our blessed Lord, to avoid every fondling expression, and to speak as to the most High God, to him that is "in glory equal with the Father, in majesty co-eternal."

9. Some will probably think that I have been over-scrupulous with regard to one particular word, which I never use myself either in verse or prose, in praying or preaching, though it is very frequently used by modern divines both of the Romish and Reformed Churches. It is the word dear. Many of these frequently say, both in preaching, in prayer, and in giving thanks, "Dear Lord," or "Dear Saviour;" and my brother used the same in many of his hymns, even as long as he lived. But may I not ask, Is not this using too much familiarity with the great Lord of heaven and earth? Is there any scripture, any passage either in the Old or New Testament, which justifies this manner of speaking? Does any of the inspired writers make use of it, even in the poetical Scriptures? Perhaps some would answer, "Yes, the Apostle Paul uses it. He says, "God's dear Son.'" I reply, First, This does not reach the case, for the word which we render dear, is not here addressed to Christ at all, but only spoken of him. Therefore it is no precedent of, or justification of, our addressing it to him. I reply, Secondly, it is not the same word. Translated literally the sentence runs, not his dear Son, but the Son of his love, or his beloved Son. Therefore I still doubt whether any of the inspired writers ever addresses the word either to the Father or the Son. Hence I cannot but advise all lovers of the Bible, if they use the expression at all, to use it very sparingly, seeing the Scripture affords neither command nor precedent for it. And surely, "if any man speak," either in preaching or prayer, he "should speak as the oracles of God."

10. Do we not frequently use this unscriptural expression, of our blessed Lord in private conversation also? And are we not then especially apt to speak of him as a mere man? Particularly when we are describing his sufferings, how easily do we slide into this! We do well to be cautious in this matter. Here is not room for indulging a warm imagination. I have sometimes almost scrupled singing (even in the midst of my brother's excellent hymn,) "That dear, disfigured face," or that glowing expression, "Drop thy warm blood upon my heart," lest it should seem to imply the forgetting I am speaking of "the Man that is my Fellow, saith the Lord of Hosts." Although he so "humbled himself as to take upon him the form of a servant, to be found in fashion as a man;" yea, though he was obedient unto death, even the death of the cross;" yet let it ever be remembered that he "thought it no robbery to be equal with God." And let our hearts still cry out, "Thou art exceeding glorious; thou art clothed with majesty and honour."

11. Perhaps some may be afraid lest the refraining from these warm expressions, or even gently checking them, should check the fervour of our devotion. It is very possible it may check, or even prevent, some kind of fervour which has passed for devotion. Possibly it may prevent loud shouting, horrid, unnatural screaming, repeating the same words twenty or thirty times, jumping two or three feet high, and throwing about the arms or legs, both of men and women, in a manner shocking not only to religion, but to common decency. But it never will check, much less prevent, true scriptural devotion. It will rather enliven the prayer that is properly addressed to him who, though he was very man, yet was very God; who, though he was born of a woman, to redeem man, yet was "God from everlasting and world without end."

12. And let it not be thought, that the knowing Christ after the flesh, the considering him as a mere man, and, in consequence using such language in public as well as private as is suitable to those conceptions of him, is a thing of a purely indifferent nature, or, however, of no great moment. On the contrary, the using this improper familiarity with God our Creator, our Redeemer, our Governor, is naturally productive of very evil fruits. And that not only in those that speak, but also to those that hear them. It has a direct tendency to abate that tender reverence due to the Lord their Governor. It insensibly damps

That speechless awe which dares not move,

And all the silent heaven of love

It is impossible we should accustom ourselves to this odious and indecent familiarity with our Maker, while we preserve in our minds a lively sense of what is painted so strongly in those solemn lines: --

Dark with excessive bright his skirts appear,

Yet dazzle heaven, that brightest seraphim

Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.

13. Now, would not every sober Christian sincerely desire constantly to experience such a love to his Redeemer (seeing he is God as well as man) as is mixed with angelic fear? Is it not this very temper which good Dr. Watts so well expresses in those lines:

Thy mercy never shall remove

From men of heart sincere;

Thou savest the souls whose humble love

Is join'd with holy fear?

14. Not that I would recommend a cold, dead, formal prayer, out of which both love and desire, hope and fear, are excluded. Such seems to have been "the calm and undisturbed method of prayer," so strongly recommended by the late Bishop Hoadly, which occasioned for some years so violent a contest in the religious world. Is it not probable that the well-meaning bishop had met with some of the Mystics or Quietists (such as Madam Guion, or the Archbishop [Fenelon] of Cambray;) and that having no experience of these things he patched together a theory of his own as nearly resembling theirs as he could? But it is certain nothing is farther from apathy than real, scriptural devotion. It excites, exercises, and gives full scope to all our nobler passions; and excludes none but those that are wild, irrational, and beneath the dignity of man.

15. But how then can we account for this, that so many holy men, men of truly elevated affections, not excepting pious Kempis himself, have so frequently used this manner of speaking, these fondling kinds of expression; since we cannot doubt but they were truly pious men? It is allowed they were; but we do not allow that their judgment was equal to their piety. And hence it was that their really good affections a little exceeded the bounds of reason, and led them into a manner of speaking, not authorized by the oracles of God. And surely these are the true standard, both of our affections and our language. But did ever any of the holy men of old speak thus, either in the Old or in the New Testament? Did Daniel, the "man greatly beloved," ever thus express himself to God? Or did "the disciple whom Jesus loved," and who doubtless loved his Master with the strongest affection, leave us an example of addressing him thus even when he was on the verge of glory? Even then his concluding words were not fond, but solemn, "Come, Lord Jesus!"

16. The sum of all is, we are to "honour the Son even as we honour the Father." We are to pay him the same worship as we pay to the Father. We are to love him with all our heart and soul; and to consecrate all we have and are, all we think, speak, and do, to the THREE-ONE GOD, Father, Son, and Spirit, world without end!

PLYMOUTH-DOCK, August 15, 1789.

[120] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 118: On a Single Eye

Sermon 118 [121]

On a Single Eye

"If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. Therefore, if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!"

Matt. 6:22, 23.

1. "Simplicity and purity," says a devout man, "are the two wings that lift the soul up to heaven: Simplicity, which is in the intention; and purity, which is in the affections." The former of these, that great and good man, Bishop Taylor, recommends with much earnestness, in the beginning of his excellent book, "Rules of Holy Living and Dying." He sets out with insisting upon this, as the very first point in true religion, and warns us, that, without this, all our endeavours after it will be vain and ineffectual. The same truth, that strong and elegant writer, Mr. Law, earnestly presses in his "Serious Call to a Devout Life" -- a treatise which will hardly be excelled, if it be equalled, in the English tongue, either for beauty of expression, or for justness and depth of thought. And who can censure any follower of Christ, for laying ever so great stress on this point, that considers the manner wherein our Master recommends it, in the words above recited?

2. Let us attentively consider this whole passage, as it may be literally translated. "The eye is the lamp of the body:" And what the eye is to the body, the intention is to the soul. We may observe, with what exact propriety our Lord places simplicity of intention between worldly desires and worldly cares; either of which directly tend to destroy it. It follows, "If thine eye be single," singly fixed upon God, "thy whole body," that is, all thy soul, "shall be full of light," -- shall be filled with holiness and happiness. "But if thine eye be evil," -- not single, aiming at any other object, seeking anything beneath the sun, -- "thy whole body shall be full of darkness. And if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!" how remote, not only from all real knowledge, but from all real holiness and happiness!

3. Considering these things, we may well cry out, "How great a thing it is to be a Christian; to be a real, inward, scriptural Christian, conformed in heart and life to the will of God! Who is sufficient for these things?" None, unless he be born of God. I do not wonder that one of the most sensible Deists should say, "I think the Bible is the finest book I ever read in my life; yet I have an insuperable objection to it: It is too good. It lays down such a plan of life, such a scheme of doctrine and practice, as is far too excellent for weak, silly men to aim at, or attempt to copy after." All this is most true, upon any other than the scriptural hypothesis. But this being allowed, all the difficulty vanishes into air. For if "all things are possible with God, then all things are possible to him that believeth."

4. But let us consider, First, the former part of our Lord's declaration, -- "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light;" Secondly, the latter part, -- "If thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness;" and, Thirdly, the dreadful state of those whose eye is not single, -- "If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!"

I. 1. And, First, "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light." If thine eye be single; if God is in all thy thoughts; if thou art constantly aiming at Him that is invisible; if it be thy intention in all things, small and great, in all thy conversation, to please God, to do, not thy own will, but the will of Him that sent thee into the world; if thou canst say, not to any creature, but to Him that made thee for himself,"I view thee, Lord and end of my desires;" -- then the promise will certainly take place: "Thy whole body shall be full of light;" thy whole soul shall be filled with the light of heaven, -- with the glory of the Lord resting upon thee. In all thy actions and conversation, thou shalt have not only the testimony of a good conscience toward God, but likewise of his Spirit, bearing witness with thy spirit, that all thy ways are acceptable to him.

2. When thy whole soul is full of this light, thou wilt be able (according to St. Paul's direction to the Thessalonians) to "rejoice evermore, to pray without ceasing, and in everything to give thanks." [1 Thess. 5:16-18] For who can be constantly sensible of the loving presence of God without "rejoicing evermore?" Who can have the loving eye of his soul perpetually fixed upon God, but he will "pray without ceasing?" For his "heart is unto God without a voice, and his silence speaketh unto him." Who can be sensible that this loving Father is well-pleased with all he does and suffers, but he will be constrained "in everything to give thanks?" knowing that all things "work together for good."

3. Thus shall "his whole body be full of light." The light of knowledge is, doubtless, one thing here intended; arising from "the unction of the Holy One, which abideth with him, and teacheth him of all things," -- all the things which it is now necessary for him to know in order to please God. Hereby he will have a clear knowledge of the divine will in every circumstance of life. Not without the means, but in the use of all those means which God has furnished him with. And, walking in this light, he cannot but "grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ." He will continually advance in all holiness, and in the whole image of God.

II. 1. Our Lord observes, Secondly, "If thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness." If it be evil, that is, not single, (for the eye which is not single is evil,) "thy whole body shall be full of darkness." It is certain there can be no medium between a single eye and an evil eye; for whenever we are not aiming at God, we are seeking happiness in some creature: And this, whatever that creature may be, is no less than idolatry. It is all one, whether we aim at the pleasures of sense, the pleasures of the imagination, the praise of men, or riches; all which St. John comprises under that general expression, "the love of the world." The eye is evil if we aim at any of these, or indeed at anything under the sun. So far as you aim at any of these, indeed, at anything beneath God, your whole soul, and the whole course of your life, will be full of darkness. Ignorance of yourselves, ignorance of your real interest, ignorance of your relation to God, will surround you with impenetrable clouds, with darkness that may be felt. And so long as the eye of your soul rests upon all or any of these, those will continue to surround your soul, and cover it with utter darkness.

2. With how many instances of this melancholy truth, -- that those whose eye is not single are totally ignorant of the nature of true religion, -- are we surrounded on every side! How many, even of good sort of people, of them whose lives are innocent, are as ignorant of themselves, of God, and of worshipping him in spirit and in truth, as either Mahometans or Heathens! And yet they are not any way defective in natural understanding: And some of them have improved their natural abilities by a liberal education, whereby they have laid in a considerable stock of deep and various learning. Yet how totally ignorant are they of God and of the things of God! How unacquainted both with the invisible and the eternal world! O why do they continue in this deplorable ignorance? It is the plain effect of this, -- their eye is not single. They do not aim at God, he is not in all their thoughts. They do not desire or think of heaven; therefore, they sink deep as hell.

3. For this reason they are as far from real holiness as they are from valuable knowledge. It is because their eye is not single that, they are such strangers to vital religion. Let them be ever so accomplished in other respects; let them be ever so learned, ever so well versed in every branch of polite literature; yea, ever so courteous, so humane; yet if their eye is not singly fixed on God they can know nothing of scriptural religion. They do not even know what Christian holiness means; what is the entrance of it, the new birth, with all the circumstances attending it: They know no more of this, than do the beasts of the field. Do they repent and believe the Gospel? How much less are they "renewed in the spirit of their minds," in the image of him that created them? As they have not the least experience of this, so they have not the least conception of it. Were you to name such a thing, you might expect to hear, "Much religion hath made thee mad:" So destitute are they, whatever accomplishments they have beside, of the only religion which avails with God.

4. And till their eye is single they are as far remote from happiness as from holiness. They may now and then have agreeable dreams, from

Wealth, honour, pleasure, or what else

This short-enduring world can give:

But none of these can satisfy the appetite of an immortal soul. Nay, all of them together cannot give rest, which is the lowest ingredient of happiness, to a never-dying spirit, which God created for the enjoyment of himself. The hungry soul, like the busy bee, wanders from flower to flower; but it goes off from each, with an abortive hope, and a deluded expectation. Every creature cries, (some with a loud and others with a secret voice,) "Happiness is not in me." The height and the depth proclaim to an attentive ear, "The Creator hath not implanted in me a capacity of giving happiness: Therefore, with all thy skill and pains, thou canst not extract it from me." And indeed the more pains any of the children of men take to extract it from any earthly object, the greater will their chagrin be, -- the more secure their disappointment.

5. "But although the vulgar herd of mankind can find no happiness; although it cannot be found in the empty pleasures of the world; may it not be found in learning, even by him that has not a single eye! Surely

Content of spirit must from science flow;

For tis a godlike attribute to know."

By no means. On the contrary, it has been the observation of all ages, that the men who possessed the greatest learning were the most dissatisfied of all men. This occasioned a person of eminent learning to declare, "A fool may find a kind of paradise upon earth," (although this is a grand mistake,) "but a wise man can find none." These are the most discontented, the most impatient, of men. Indeed, learning naturally effects this: "Knowledge," as the Apostle observes, "puffeth up.' But where pride is, happiness is not; they are utterly inconsistent with each other. So much ground there is for that melancholy reflection, wherever true religion is not,

Avails it then, O Reason! to be wise?

To see this mournful sight with quicker eyes?

To know with more distinction to complain,

And have superior sense in feeling pain?

III. 1. It remains to consider, in the Third place, our Lord's important question: "If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!" The plain meaning is, if that principle which ought to give light to thy whole soul, as the eye does to the body; to direct thy understanding, passions, affections, tempers, -- all thy thoughts, words, and actions; if this principle itself be darkened, -- be set wrong, and put darkness for light; how great must that darkness be! how terrible its effects!

2. In order to see this in a stronger point of view, let us consider it in a few particular instances. Begin with one of no small importance. Here is a father choosing an employment for his son. If his eye be not single; if he do not singly aim at the glory of God in the salvation of his soul; if it be not his one consideration, what calling is likely to secure him the highest place in heaven; not the largest share of earthly treasure, or the highest preferment in the Church; -- the light which is in him is manifestly darkness. And O how great is that darkness! The mistake which he is in, is not a little one, but inexpressibly great. What! do not you prefer his being a cobbler on earth, and a glorious saint in heaven, before his being a lord on earth, and a damned spirit in hell? If not, how great, unutterably great, is the darkness that covers your soul! What a fool, what a dolt, what a madman is he, how stupid beyond all expression, who judges a palace upon earth to be preferable to a throne in heaven! How unspeakably is his understanding darkened, who, to gain for his child the honour that cometh of men, will entail upon him everlasting shame in the company of the devil and his angels!

3. I cannot dismiss this subject yet, as it is of the utmost importance. How great is the darkness of that execrable wretch (I can give him no better title, be he rich or poor) who will sell his own child to the devil, who will barter her own eternal happiness for any quantity of gold or silver! What a monster would any man be accounted, who devoured the flesh of his own offspring! And is he not as great a monster who, by his own act and deed, gives her to be devoured by that roaring lion? as he certainly does (so far as is in his power) who marries her to an ungodly man. "But he is rich; but he has ten thousand pounds!" What, if it were a hundred thousand? The more the worse; the less probability will she have of escaping the damnation of hell. With what face wilt thou look upon her, when she tells thee in the realms below, "Thou hast plunged me into this place of torment. Hadst thou given me to a good man, however poor, I might have now been in Abraham's bosom. But, O! what have riches profited me? They have sunk both me and thee into hell!"

4. Are any of you that are called Methodists thus merciful to your children? Seeking to marry them well (as the cant phrase is;) that is, to sell them to some purchaser that has much money, but little or no religion? Is then the light that is in you also darkness? Are ye, too, regarding God less than mammon? Are ye also without understanding? Have ye profited no more by all ye have heard? Man, woman, think what you are about! Dare you also sell your child to the devil? You undoubtedly do this (as far as in you lies) when you marry a son or a daughter to a child of the devil; though it be one that wallows in gold and silver. O take warning in time! Beware of the gilded bait! Death and hell are hid beneath. Prefer grace before gold and precious stones; glory in heaven, to riches on earth! If you do not, you are worse than the very Canaanites. They only made their children pass "through the fire" to Moloch. You make yours pass into the fire that never shall be quenched, and to stay in it for ever! O how great is the darkness that causes you, after you have done this, to "wipe your mouth, and say you have done no evil!"

5. Let us consider another case, not far distant from this. Suppose a young man, having finished his studies at the University, is desirous to minister in holy things, and, accordingly, enters into orders. What is his intention in this? What is the end he proposes to himself? If his eye be single, his one design is to save his own soul, and them that hear him; to bring as many sinners as he possibly can out of darkness into marvellous light. If, on the other hand, his eye be not single, if he aim at ease, honour, money, or preferment; the world may account him a wise man, but God says unto him, "Thou fool!" And while the light that is in him is thus darkness, "how great is that darkness!" What folly is comparable to his folly! -- one peculiarly dedicated to the God of heaven, to "mind earthly things!" A worldly Clergyman is a fool above all fools, a madman above all madmen! Such vile, infamous wretches as these are the real "ground of the contempt of the Clergy." Indolent Clergymen, pleasure-taking Clergymen, money-loving Clergymen, praise-loving Clergymen, preferment-seeking Clergymen, -- these are the wretches that cause the order in general to be contemned. These are the pests of the Christian world; the grand nuisance of mankind; a stink in the nostrils of God! Such as these were they who made St. Chrysostom to say, "Hell is paved with the souls of Christian Priests."

6. Take another case. Suppose a young woman, of an independent fortune, to be addressed at the same time by a man of wealth without religion, and a man of religion without wealth; in other words, by a rich child of the devil, and a poor child of God. What shall we say, if, other circumstances being equal, she prefer the rich man to the good man? It is plain, her eye is not single; therefore her foolish heart is darkened; and how great is that darkness which makes her judge gold and silver a greater recommendation than holiness! which makes a child of the devil, with money, appear more amiable to her than a child of God without it! What words can sufficiently express the inexcusable folly of such a choice? What a laughing-stock (unless she severely repent) will she be to all the devils in hell, when her wealthy companion has dragged her down to his own place of torment!

7. Are there any of you that are present before God who are concerned in any of these matters? Give me leave with "great plainness of speech," to apply to your consciences "in the sight of God." You, whom God hath entrusted with sons or daughters, is your eye single in choosing partners for them? What qualifications do you seek in your sons and daughters in law? -- religion or riches? Which is your first consideration? Are you not of the old Heathen's mind,

Quaerenda pecunia primum,

Virtus post nummos?

Seek money first: Let virtue then be sought.

Bring the matter to a point. Which will you prefer? a rich Heathen, or a pious Christian? -- a child of the devil, with an estate; or the child of God, without it? -- a lord or gentleman, with the devil in his heart; (he does not hide it, his speech bewrayeth him;) or a tradesman, who, you have reason to believe, has Christ dwelling in his heart? O how great is that darkness which makes you prefer a child of the devil to a child of God! Which causes you to prefer the poor trash of worldly wealth, which flies as a shadow, to the riches of eternal glory!

8. I call upon you more especially who are called Methodists. In the sight of the great God, upwards of fifty years I have ministered unto you, I have been your servant for Christ's sake. During this time I have given you

many solemn warnings on this head. I now give you one more, perhaps the last. Dare any of you, in choosing your calling or situation, eye the things on earth, rather than the things above? In choosing a profession, or a companion for life, for your child, do you look at earth or heaven? And can you deliberately prefer, either for yourself or your offspring, a child of the devil with money, to a child of God without it? Why, the very Heathens cry out,

O cunae in terras animae, et caelestium inanes!

O souls, bow'd down to earth, strangers to heaven!

Repent, repent of your vile earthly-mindedness! Renounce the title of Christians, or prefer, both in your own case and the case of your children, grace to money, and heaven to earth! For the time to come, at least, "let your eye be single," that your "whole body may be full of light!"

[121] [text of the 1872 ed.]

Sermon 119: On Worldly Folly

Sermon 119 [122]

On Worldly Folly

"But God said unto him, Thou fool!"

Luke 12:20.

But one of these fools is commonly wiser in his own eyes "than seven men that can render a reason." If it were possible for a Christian, for one that has the mind which was in Christ, to despise any one, he would cordially despise those who suppose "they are the men, and wisdom shall die with them." You may see one of these, painted to the life, in the verses preceding the text. "The ground of a certain rich man," says our blessed Lord, "brought forth plenteously." (Luke 12:16.) "And he reasoned within himself, saying, What shall I do? for I have no room where to bestow my fruits. And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thy ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool!" I propose, by the assistance of God,

I. To open and explain these few full words; and,

II. To apply them to your conscience.

I. 1. To open and explain them. A little before, our Lord had been giving a solemn caution to one who spoke to him about dividing his inheritance. "Beware of covetousness; for the life a man," that is, the happiness of it, "does not consist in the abundance of the things that he possesseth." To prove and illustrate this weighty truth, our Lord relates this remarkable story. It is not improbable, it was one that had lately occurred, and that was fresh in the memory of some that were present. "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plenteously." The riches of the ancients consisted chiefly in the fruits of the earth. "And he said within himself, What shall I do?" The very language of want and distress! The voice of one that is afflicted, and groaning under his burden. What shalt thou do? Why, are not those at the door whom God hath appointed to receive what thou canst spare? What shalt thou do? Why, disperse abroad, and give to the poor. Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. Be a father to the fatherless, and a husband to the widow. Freely thou hast received; freely give. O no! He is wiser than this comes to; he knows better than so.

2. "And he said, This will I do;" -- without asking God's leave, or thinking about Him any more than if there were no God in heaven or on earth; -- "I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my goods and all my fruits." My fruits! They are as much thine as the clouds that fly over thy head! As much as the winds that blow around thee; which, doubtless, thou canst hold in thy fists! "And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years!" "Soul, thou hast much goods!" Are then corn, and wine, and oil, the goods of an immortal spirit? "Laid up for many years!" Who told thee so? Believe him not; he was a liar from the beginning. He could not prolong thy life, if he would. (God alone is the giver of life and death.) And he would not, if he could; but would immediately drag thee to his own sad abode. "Soul, take thy ease; eat, drink, and be merry!" How replete with folly and madness is every part of this wonderful soliloquy! "Eat and drink?" Will thy spirit then eat and drink? Yea, but not of earthly food. Thou wilt soon eat livid flame, and drink of the lake of fire burning with brimstone. But wilt thou then drink and be merry? "Nay, there will be no mirth in those horrid shades; those caverns will resound with no music, "but weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth!"

3. But while he was applauding his own wisdom, "God said unto him, Thou fool! This night shall thy soul be required of thee. And then whose shall those things be which thou hast prepared?"

4. Let us consider his words a little more attentively. He said within himself, "What shall I do?" And is not the answer ready? Do good. Do all the good thou canst. Let thy plenty supply thy neighbour's wants; and thou wilt never want something to do. Canst thou find none that need the necessaries of life, that are pinched with cold or hunger; none that have not raiment to put on, or a place where to lay their head; none that are wasted with pining sickness; none that are languishing in prison? If you duly considered our Lord's words, "The poor have you always with you," you would no more ask, "What shall I do?"

5. How different was the purpose of this poor madman! "I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my goods." You may just as well bury them in the earth, or cast them into the sea. This will just as well answer the end for which God entrusted thee with them.

6. But let us examine a little farther the remaining part of his resolution. "I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thy ease, eat, drink, and be merry." What, are these the goods of a never-dying spirit? As well may thy body feed on the fleeting breeze, as thy soul on earthly fruits. Excellent counsel then to such a spirit, to eat and drink! to a spirit made equal to angels, made an incorruptible picture of the God of glory, to feed not on corruptible things, but on the fruit of the tree of life, which grows in the midst of the paradise of God.

7. It is no marvel, then, that God should say unto him, "Thou fool!" For this terrible reason, were there no other: "This night shall thy soul be required of thee!"

And art thou born to die,

To lay this body down?

And must thy trembling spirit fly

Into a land unknown?

-- A land of deepest shade,

Unpierced by human thought;

The dreary regions of the dead,

Where all things are forgot?

"And whose then shall all the things be which thou hast provided?"

II. 1. The Second thing which I proposed was, to apply these considerations; which, it is certain, are some of the most important that can enter into the heart of man. In one sense, indeed, they have been applied already; for what has been said has been all application. But I wish every one who reads or hears these words, directly to apply them to his own soul.

2. Does it not concern every one that hears, -- "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully," -- to inquire, "Was this ever the case with me? Have I now, or have I ever heretofore had, more worldly goods given than I wanted? And what were my thoughts upon the occasion? Did I say in my heart, What shall I do? Was I distressed by my abundance? Did I think, I have much goods laid up for many years?'" Many years! Alas! What is thy life, if protracted to its utmost span? Is it not a vapour, that just appeareth, and vanisheth away? Say not, then, I will pull down my barns; but say to God, in the secret of thy heart, "Lord, save, or I perish!' See, my riches increase; let me not set my heart upon them! Thou seest I stand upon slippery ground; do thou undertake for me!

Uphold me, Saviour, or I fall!

O reach me forth thy gracious hand!

Only for help on thee I call,

Only by faith in thee I stand.

See, Lord, how greatly my substance increases! Nothing less than thy almighty power can prevent my setting my heart upon it, and being crushed lower than the grave!"

3. "I ask thee, O Lord, What shall I do?'" First of all, endeavour to be deeply sensible of thy danger; and make it matter of earnest and constant prayer, that thou mayest never lose that sense of it. Pray that thou mayest always feel thyself standing on the brink of a precipice. Meantime, let the language of thy heart be, "Having more means, I will do more good, by the grace of God, than ever I did before. All the additional goods which it hath pleased God to put into my hands, I am resolved to lay out, with all diligence, in additional works of mercy. And hereby I shall lay up for myself a sure foundation, that I may attain eternal life.'"

4. Thou no longer talkest of thy goods, or thy fruits, knowing they are not thine, but God's. The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof: He is the Proprietor of heaven and earth. He cannot divest himself of his glory; he must be the Lord, the possessor, of all that is. Only he hath left a portion of his goods in thy hands, for such uses as he has specified. How long he will be pleased to lodge them with thee, thou dost not yet know; perhaps only till to-morrow, or to-night. Therefore talk not, think not, of many years. Knowest thou not, that thou art a creature of a day, that is crushed before the moth; that the breath which is in thy nostrils may be taken away at a moment's warning; that it may be resumed by him that gave it, at a time thou thinkest not of it? How knowest thou but, the next time thou liest down on thy bed, thou mayest hear, "This night shall thy soul be required of thee?"

5. Is not thy life as unstable as a cloud; fluctuating as a bubble on the water? It fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. "Many years!" Who is sure of one day? And is it not an instance both of the wisdom and goodness of God, that he holds thy breath in his own hand, and deals it out from moment to moment; that thou mayest always remember, to "live each day as if it were the last?" And after the few days thou shalt have spent under the sun, how soon will it be said,

A heap of dust is all remains of thee;

Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!

6. Consider, again, the exquisite folly of that saying, "Soul, thou hast much goods." Are, then, the products of the earth food for a heaven-born spirit? Is there any composition of earth and water, yea, though air and fire be added thereto, which can feed those beings of a higher order? What similitude is there between those ethereal spirits, and these base-born clods of earth? Examine the rest of this wise soliloquy, and see how it will apply to yourself. "Soul, take thy ease!" O vain hope! Can ease to a spirit spring out of the ground? Suppose the soil were ever so improved, can it yield such a harvest? "Eat, drink, and be merry!" What! can thy soul eat and drink? Yea,

Manna such as angels eat,

Pure delights for spirits fit.

But these do not grow on earthly ground; they are only found in the Paradise of God.

7. But suppose the voice which commands life and death pronounce, "This night thy soul shall be required of thee; then whose are all those things thou hast provided?" Alas, they are not thine! Thou hast no longer any part or lot in any of the things that are under the sun. Thou hast then no more share in any of these things of earth, than if the earth and the works of it were burnt up. Naked thou camest out of thy mother's womb, and naked shalt thou return. Thou hast heaped up many things; but for what end? To leave them all behind thee! Poor shade! Thou art now stripped of all: Not even hope is left.

8. Observe the remark which our Lord has left upon the whole occurrence: "So is every one who layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God," -- such a fool, such an egregious madman, as it is beyond the power of language to express! However wise he may be in his own eyes, and perhaps in those of his neighbour, he is in reality the greatest fool under heaven, who heapeth up things from which he must soon be separated for ever: And whoever is seeking happiness in the things that perish is laying up treasure for himself. This is absolutely inconsistent with being "rich" (or rather, growing) "toward God;" with obeying that scriptural command, -- "My son, give me thy heart." He who is child of God can truly say. --

All my riches are above;

All my treasure is thy love:

He can testify, "All my desire is unto thee, and to the remembrance of thy name!"

9. Let every one who readeth these words, narrowly search his own heart. Where hast thou laid up thy treasure hitherto? Where art thou laying it up now? Art thou labouring to be rich toward God, or to lay up earthly goods? which takes up the greater part of thy thoughts? Thou that art careful for outward things, diligent in doing good, and exact in outward duties, -- beware of covetousness; of decent, honourable love of money; and of a desire to lay up treasures on earth. Lay up treasure in heaven! A few days hence, thou wilt step into a land of darkness; where earthly fruits will be of no avail; where thou wilt not be capable of eating and drinking, or gratifying any of thy senses. What benefit wilt thou then receive from all thou hast laid up in this world? What satisfaction in all which thou hast treasured up, -- all thou hast left behind thee? Left behind thee! What! couldest thou then take nothing with thee into the everlasting habitations? Nay then, lay up treasure, before thou go hence, which fadeth not away. Preached at Balham, February 19, 1790

[122] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 120: On the Wedding Garment

Sermon 120 [123]

On the Wedding Garment

"How camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment?

Matt. 22:12.

1. In the verses preceding the text we read, "After these things, Jesus spake to them again in parables, and said, A certain king made a supper for his son. And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw one who had not on a wedding garment. And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

2. Upon this parable one of our most celebrated expositors comments in the following manner: -- "The design of this parable is to set forth that gracious supply made by God to men in and by the preaching of the gospel. To invite them to this, God sent forth his servants, the Prophets and Apostles." -- And on these words, -- "Why camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment?" he proceeds thus: "The punishment of whom ought not to discourage us, or make us turn our backs upon the holy ordinances." Certainly it ought not; but nothing of this kind can be inferred from this parable, which has no reference to the ordinances, any more than to baptism and marriage. And probably we should never have imagined it, but that the word supper occurred therein.

3. However, most of the English annotators have fallen into the same mistake with Mr. Burkitt. And so have thousands of their readers. Yet a mistake it certainly is; and such a mistake as has not any shadow of foundation in the text. It is true, indeed, that none ought to approach the Lord's table without habitual, at least, if not actual, preparation; that is, a firm purpose to keep all the commandments of God, and a sincere desire to receive all his promises. But that obligation cannot be inferred from this text, though it may from many other passages of Scripture. But there is no need of multiplying texts; one is as good as a thousand: There needs no more to induce any man of a tender conscience to communicate at all opportunities, than that single commandment of our Lord, "Do this in remembrance of me."

4. But whatever preparation is necessary in order to our being worthy partakers of the Lord's Supper, it has no relation at all to the "wedding garment" mentioned in this parable. It cannot: For that commemoration of his death was not then ordained. It relates wholly to the proceedings of our Lord, when he comes in the clouds of heaven to judge the quick and the dead; and to the qualifications which will then be necessary to their inheriting "the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world."

5. Many excellent men, who are thoroughly apprized of this -- who are convinced, the wedding garment here mentioned is not to be understood of any qualification for the Lord's Supper, but of the qualification for glory, -- interpret it of the righteousness of Christ; "which," say they, is the sole qualification for heaven; this being the only righteousness wherein any man can stand in the day of the Lord. For who," they ask, "will then dare to appear before the great God, save in the righteousness of his well-beloved Son? Shall we not then at least, if not before, find the need of having a better righteousness than our own? And what other can that be than the righteousness of God our Saviour?" The late pious and ingenious Mr. Hervey descants largely upon this; particularly in his elaborate "Dialogues between Theron and Aspasio."

6. Another elegant writer, now I trust with God, speaks strongly to the same effect in the preface to his comment on St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans: "We certainly," says he, "shall need a better righteousness than our own, wherein to Stand at the bar of God in the day of judgment." I do not understand the expression. Is it scriptural? Do we read it in the Bible, either in the Old Testament or the New? I doubt it is an unscriptural, awkward phrase, Which has no determinate meaning. If you mean by that odd, uncouth question, In whose righteousness are you to stand at the last day?" -- for whose sake, or by whose merit, do you expect to enter into the glory of God? I answer, without the least hesitation, For the sake of Jesus Christ the Righteous. It is through his merits alone that all believers are saved; that is, justified -- saved from the guilt, -- sanctified -- saved from the nature, of sin; and glorified -- taken into heaven.

7. It may be worth our while to spend a few more words on this important point. Is it possible to devise a more unintelligible expression than this, -- "In what righteousness are we to stand before God at the last day?" Why do you not speak plainly, and say, "For whose sake do you look to be saved?" Any plain peasant would then readily answer, "For the sake of Jesus Christ." But all those dark, ambiguous phrases tend only to puzzle the cause, and open a way for unwary hearers to slide into Antinomianism.

8. Is there any expression similar to this of the "wedding garment" to be found in Holy Scripture? In the Revelation we find mention made of "linen, white and clean, which is the righteousness of the saints." And this, too, many vehemently contend, means the righteousness of Christ. But how then are we to reconcile this with that passage in the seventh chapter, "They have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb?" Will they say, "The righteousness of Christ was washed and made white in the blood of Christ?" Away with such Antinomian jargon! Is not the plain meaning this: -- It was from the atoning blood that the very righteousness of the saints derived its value and acceptableness with God?

9. In the nineteenth chapter of the Revelation, at the ninth verse, there is an expression which comes much nearer to this: -- "The wedding supper of the Lamb." [Rev. 19] There is a near resemblance between this and the marriage supper mentioned in the parable. Yet they are not altogether the same: there is a clear difference between them. The supper mentioned in the parable belongs to the Church Militant; that mentioned in the Revelation, to the Church Triumphant: The one, to the kingdom of God on earth; the other, to the kingdom of God in heaven. Accordingly, in the former, there may be found those who have not a "wedding garment." But there will be none such to be found in the latter: No, not "in that great multitude which no man can number, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation." They will all be "kings and priests unto God, and shall reign with him for ever and ever."

10. Does not that expression, "the righteousness of the saints," point out what is the "wedding garment" in the parable? It is the "holiness without which no man shall see the Lord." The righteousness of Christ is doubtless necessary for any soul that enters into glory: But so is personal holiness too, for every child of man. But it is highly needful to be observed, that they are necessary in different respects. The former is necessary to entitle us to heaven; the latter to qualify us for it. Without the righteousness of Christ we could have no claim to glory; without holiness we could have no fitness for it. By the former we become members of Christ, children of God, and heirs of the kingdom of heaven. By the latter "we are made meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light."

11. From the very time that the Son of God delivered this weighty truth to the children of men, -- that all who had not the "wedding garment" would be "cast into outward darkness, where are weeping and gnashing of teeth," -- the enemy of souls has been labouring to obscure it, that they might still seek death in the error of their life; and many ways has he tried to disguise the holiness without which we cannot be saved. How many things have been palmed, even upon the Christian world, in the place of this! Some of these are utterly contrary thereto, and subversive of it. Some were noways connected with or related to it; but useless and insignificant trifles. Others might be deemed to be some part of it, but by no means the whole. It may be of use to enumerate some of them, lest ye should be ignorant of Satan's devices.

12. Of the first sort, things prescribed as Christian holiness although flatly contrary thereto, is idolatry. How has this, in various shapes, been taught, and is to this day, as essential to holiness! How diligently is it now circulated in a great part of the Christian Church! Some of their idols are silver and gold, or wood and stone, "graven by art, and man's device;" some, men of like passions with themselves, particularly the Apostles of our Lord, and the Virgin Mary. To these they add numberless saints of their own creation, with no small company of angels.

13. Another thing as directly contrary to the whole tenor of true religion, is, what is diligently taught in many parts of the Christian Church; I mean the spirit of persecution; of persecuting their brethren even unto death; so that the earth has been often covered with blood by those who were called Christians, in order to "make their calling and election sure." It is true, many, even in the Church of Rome, who were taught this horrid doctrine, now seem to be ashamed of it. But have the heads of that community as openly and explicitly renounced that capital doctrine of devils, as they avowed it in the Council of Constance, and practised it for many ages? Till they have done this, they will be chargeable with the blood of Jerome of Prague, basely murdered, and of many thousands, both in the sight of God and man.

14. Let it not be said, "This does not concern us Protestants: We think and let think. We abhor the spirit of persecution; and maintain, as an indisputable truth, that every rational creature has a right to worship God as he is persuaded in his own mind." But are we true to our own principles? So far, that we do not use fire and faggot. We do not persecute unto blood those that do not subscribe to our opinions. Blessed be God, the laws of our country do not allow of this; but is there no such thing to be found in England as domestic persecution? The saying or doing anything unkind to another for following his own conscience is a species of persecution. Now, are we all clear of this? Is there no husband who, in this sense, persecutes his wife? Who uses her unkindly, in word or deed, for worshipping God after her own conscience? Do no parents thus persecute their children? no masters or mistresses, their servants? If they do this, and think they do God service therein, they must not cast the First stone at the Roman Catholics.

15. When things of an indifferent nature are represented as necessary to salvation, it is a folly of the same kind, though not of the same magnitude. Indeed, it is not a little sin to represent trifles as necessary to salvation; such as going of pilgrimages, or anything that is not expressly enjoined in the Holy Scripture. Among these we may undoubtedly rank orthodoxy, or right opinions. We know, indeed, that wrong opinions in religion naturally lead to wrong tempers, or wrong practices; and that, consequently, it is our bounden duty to pray that we may have a right judgment in all things. But still a man may judge as accurately as the devil, and yet be as wicked as he.

16. Something more excusable are they who imagine holiness to consist in things that are only a part of it; (that is, when they are connected with the rest; otherwise they are no part of it at all;) suppose in doing no harm. And how exceeding common is this! How many take holiness and harmlessness to mean one and the same thing! whereas were a man as harmless as a post, he might be as far from holiness as heaven from earth. Suppose a man, therefore, to be exactly honest, to pay every one his own, to cheat no man, to wrong no man, to hurt no man, to be just in all his dealings; suppose a woman to be uniformly modest and virtuous in all her words and actions; suppose the one and the other to be steady practisers of morality, that is, of justice, mercy, and truth; yet all this, though it is good as far as it goes, is but a part of Christian holiness. Yea, suppose a person of this amiable character to do much good wherever he is; to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, relieve the stranger, the sick, the prisoner; yea, and to save many souls from death: it is possible he may still fall far short of that holiness without which he cannot see the Lord.

17. What, then, is that holiness which is the true "wedding garment," the only qualification for glory? "In Christ Jesus," (that is, according to the Christian institution, whatever be the case of the heathen world,) "neither circumcision availeth any thing, nor uncircumcision; but a new creation, -- the renewal of the soul "in the image of God wherein it was created." In "Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but faith which worketh by love." [Gal. 5:6] It first, through the energy of God, worketh love to God and all mankind; and, by this love, every holy and heavenly temper, -- in particular, lowliness, meekness, gentleness, temperance, and longsuffering. "It is neither circumcision," -- the attending on all the Christian ordinances, -- "nor uncircumcision," -- the fulfilling of all heathen morality, -- but "the keeping the commandments of God; particularly those, -- "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself." In a word, holiness is the having "the mind that was in Christ," and the "walking as Christ walked."

18. Such has been my judgment for these threescore years, without any material alteration. Only, about fifty years ago I had a clearer view than before of justification by faith: and in this, from that very hour, I never varied, no, not an hair's breadth. Nevertheless, an ingenious man has publicly accused me of a thousand variations. I pray God, not to lay this to his charge! I am now on the borders of the grave; but, by the grace of God, I still witness the same confession. Indeed, some have supposed, that when I began to declare, "By grace ye are saved through faith," I retracted what I had before maintained: "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord." But it is an entire mistake: These scriptures well consist with each other; the meaning of the former being plainly this, -- By faith we are saved from sin, and made holy. The imagination that faith supersedes holiness, is the marrow of Antinomianism.

19. The sum of all is this: The God of love is willing to save all the souls that he has made. This he has proclaimed to them in his word, together with the terms of salvation, revealed by the Son of his love, who gave his own life that they that believe in him might have everlasting life. And for these he has prepared a kingdom, from the foundation of the world. But he will not force them to accept of it; he leaves them in the hands of their own counsel; he saith, "Behold, I set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: Choose life, that ye may live." Choose holiness, by my grace; which is the way, the only way, to everlasting life. He cries aloud, "Be holy, and be happy; happy in this world, and happy in the world to come." "Holiness becometh his house for ever!" This is the wedding garment of all that are called to "the marriage of the Lamb." Clothed in this, they will not be found naked: "They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." But as to all those who appear in the last day without the wedding garment, the Judge will say, "Cast them into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." MADELEY, March 26, 1790

[123] [text of the 1872 ed.]

Sermon 121: Human Life a Dream

Sermon 121

Human Life a Dream

"Even like as a dream when one awaketh; so shalt thou make their image to vanish out of the city."

Ps. 73:20.

1. Anyone that considers the foregoing verses will easily observe that the Psalmist is speaking directly of the wicked, that prosper in their wickedness. It is very common for these utterly to forget that they are creatures of a day; to live as if they were never to die; as if their present state was to endure for ever; or, at least as if they were indisputably sure that they "had much goods laid up for many years:" So that they might safely say, "Soul, take thine ease; eat, drink, and be merry." But how miserable a mistake is this! How often does God say to such a one, "Thou fool! this night shall thy soul be required of thee!" Well then may it be said of them, "O, how suddenly do they consume!" -- perish, and come to a fearful end. Yea, "even like as a dream when one awaketh; so shalt thou make their image to vanish out of the city."

2. But I would at present carry this thought farther; I would consider it in a general sense, and show how near a resemblance there is between human life and a dream. An ancient poet carries the comparison farther still, when he styles life, "the dream of a shadow." And so does Cowley, when he cries out,

O life, thou nothing's younger brother!

So like, that we mistake the one for the' other!

But, setting these and all other flights of poetry aside, I would seriously inquire, wherein this resemblance lies; wherein the analogy between the one and the other does properly consist.

3. In order to this, I would inquire, First, What is a dream? You will say, "Who does not know this?" Might you not rather say, Who does know? Is there anything more mysterious in nature? Who is there that has not experienced it, that has not dreamed a thousand times? Yet he is no more able to explain the nature of it, than he is to grasp the skies. Who can give any clear, satisfactory account of the parent of dreams, sleep? It is true, many physicians have attempted this, but they have attempted it in vain. They have talked learnedly about it, but have left the matter at last just as dark as it was before. They tell us some of its properties and effects; but none can tell what is the essence of it.

4. However, we know the origin of dreams, and that with some degree of certainty. There can be no doubt but some of them arise from the present constitution of the body; while others of them are probably occasioned by the passions of the mind. Again: We are clearly informed in Scripture, that some are caused by the operation of good angels; as others, undoubtedly, are owing to the power and malice of evil angels (if we may dare to suppose that there are any such now; or, at least, that they have anything to do in the world). From the same divine treasury of knowledge we learn that, on some extraordinary occasions, the great Father of spirits has manifested himself to human spirits, "in dreams and visions of the night." But which of all these arise from natural, which from supernatural, influence, we are many times not able to determine.

5. And how can we certainly distinguish between our dreams and our waking thoughts? What criterion is there by which we may surely know whether we are awake or asleep? It is true, as soon as we awake out of sleep, we know we have been in a dream, and are now awake. But how shall we know that a dream is such while we continue therein? What is a dream? To give a gross and superficial, not a philosophical, account of it: It is a series of persons and things presented to our mind in sleep, which have no being but in our own imagination. A dream, therefore, is a kind of digression from our real life. It seems to be a sort of echo of what was said or done a little when we were awake. Or, may we say, a dream is a fragment of life, broken off at both ends; not connected either with the part that goes before, or with that which follows after? And is there any better way of distinguishing our dreams from our waking thoughts, than by this very circumstance? It is a kind of parenthesis, inserted in life, as that is in a discourse, which goes on equally well either with it or without it. By this then we may infallibly know a dream, -- by its being broken off at both ends; by its having no proper connection with the real things which either precede or follow it.

6. It is not needful to prove that there is a near resemblance between these transient dreams, and the dream of life. It may be of more use to illustrate this important truth; to place it in as striking a light as possible. Let us then seriously consider, in a few obvious particulars, the case of one that is just awaking out of life, and opening his eyes in eternity.

7. Let us then propose the case. Let us suppose we had now before us one that was just passed into the world of spirits. Might not you address such a new-born soul in some such manner as this? You have been an inhabitant of earth forty, perhaps fifty or sixty, years. But now God has altered his voice: "Awake, thou that sleepest!" You awake; you arise; you have no more to do with these poor transient shadows. Arise, and shake thyself from the dust! See, all is real here! all is permanent; all eternal! far more stable than the foundations of the earth; yea, than the pillars of that lower heaven. Now that your eyes are open, see how inexpressibly different are all the things that are now round about you! What a difference do you perceive in yourself! Where is your body, -- your house of clay? Where are your limbs, your hands, your feet, your head? There they lie, cold, insensible!

No anger, hereafter, or shame,

Shall redden the innocent clay;

Extinct is the animal flame,

And passion is vanish'd away.

What a change is in the immortal spirit! You see everything around you; but how? Not with eyes of flesh and blood! You hear; but not by a stream of undulating air, striking on an extended membrane. You feel; but in how wonderful a manner! You have no nerves to convey the ethereal fire to the common sensory; rather, are you not now all eye, all ear, all feeling, all perception? How different, now you are throughly awake, are all the objects round about you! Where are the houses, and gardens, and fields, and cities, which you lately saw? Where are the rivers, and seas, and everlasting hills? Was it then only in a dream that our poet discovered,

Earth hath this variety from heaven

Of pleasure situate in hill and dale?

Nay, I doubt all these vanished away like smoke, the moment you awoke out of the body.

8. How strange must not only the manner of existence appear, and the place wherein you are (if it may be called place; though who can define or describe the place of spirits?) but the inhabitants of that unknown region! whether they are of the number of those unhappy spirits that "kept not their first estate," or of those holy ones that still "minister to the heirs of salvation." How strange are the employments of those spirits with which you are now surrounded! How bitter are they to the taste of those that are still dreaming upon earth! "I have no relish," said one of these, (a much-applauded wit, who has lately left the body,) "for sitting upon a cloud all day long, and singing praise to God." We may easily believe him; and there is no danger of his being put to that trouble. Nevertheless, this is no trouble to them who cease not day and night, but continually sing, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth!"

9. Suppose this to be the case with any of you that are now present before God. It may be so to-morrow; perhaps to-night; perhaps this night your "soul may be required of you;" the dream of life may end, and you may wake into broad eternity! See, there lies the poor inanimate carcase, shortly to be sown in corruption and dishonour. But where is the immortal, incorruptible spirit? There it stands, naked before the eyes of God! Meantime, what is become of all the affairs which you have been eagerly engaged in under the sun? What profit have you reaped of all your labour and care? Does your money follow you? No; you have left it behind you; -- the same thing to you as if it had vanished into air! Does your gay or rich apparel follow you? Your body is clothed with dust and rottenness. Your soul, indeed is clothed with immortality. But, O! what immortality? Is it an immortality of happiness and glory; or of shame and everlasting contempt? Where is the honour, the pomp, of the rich and great; the applause that surrounded you? All gone; all are vanished away, "like as a shadow that departeth." "The play is over," said Monsieur Moultray, when he saw the ball pierce the temples of his dying master. [Charles XII, King of Sweden, at the siege of Frederickshall.] And what cared the courtier for this? No more than if it had been the conclusion of a farce or dance. But while the buffoon slept on and took his rest, it was not so with the monarch. Though he was not terrified with anything on earth, he would be at the very gates of hell. Vain valour! In the very article of death, he grasped the hilt of his sword! But where was he the next moment, when the sword dropped out of his hand, and the soul out of his body? Then ended the splendid dream of royalty, -- of glory, of destroying cities, and of conquering kingdoms!

10. "How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!" What are the weapons that are so terrible among us, to the inhabitants of eternity? How are the wise, the learned, the poet, the critic fallen, and their glory vanished away! How is the beauty fallen, the late idol of a gazing crowd! In how complete a sense are "the daughters of music brought low," and all the instruments thereof forgotten! Are you not now convinced, that (according to the Hebrew proverb) "a living dog is better than a dead lion?" For the living know, yea, must know, unless they obstinately refuse, "that they shall die; but the dead know not anything" that will avail for the ease of their pain, or to lessen their misery. Also "their hope and fear, and their desire," all are perished; all of them are fled; "they have not any portion in the things that are done under the sun!"

11. Where, indeed, is the hope of those who were lately laying deep schemes, and saying, "To-day, or to-morrow, we will go to such a city, and continue there a year, and traffic, and get gain?" How totally had they forgotten that wise admonition, "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow! For, what is your life? It is a vapour that appeareth awhile, and then vanisheth away!" Where is all your business? where your worldly cares, your troubles or engagements? All these things are fled away like smoke; and your soul is left. And how is it qualified for the enjoyment of this new world? Has it a relish for the objects and enjoyments of the invisible world? Are your affections loosened from things below, and fixed on things above, -- fixed on that place where Jesus sitteth at the right hand of God? Then happy are ye; and when He whom ye love shall appear, "ye shall also appear with him in glory."

12. But how do you relish the company that surrounds you? Your old companions are gone; a great part of them probably separated from you never to return. Are your present companions angels of light? -- ministering spirits, that but now whispered, "Sister spirit, come away! We are sent to conduct thee over that gulf into Abraham's bosom." And what are those? Some of the souls of the righteous, whom thou didst formerly relieve with "the mammon of unrighteousness;" and who are now commissioned by your common Lord to receive, to welcome you "into the everlasting habitations." Then the angels of darkness will quickly discern they have no part in you. So they must either hover at a distance, or flee away in despair. Are some of these happy spirits that take acquaintance with you, the same that travelled with you below, and bore a part in your temptations; that, together with you, fought the good fight of faith, and laid hold on eternal life? As you then wept together, you may rejoice together, you and your guardian angels perhaps, in order to increase your thankfulness for being "delivered from so great a death." They may give you a view of the realms below; those

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

And rest can never dwell.

See, on the other hand, the mansions which were "prepared for you from the foundation of the world!" O what a difference between the dream that is past, and the real scene that is now present with thee! Look up! See!

No need of the sun in that day,

Which never is follow'd by night;

Where Jesus's beauties display

A pure and a permanent light!

Look down! What a prison is there! "Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fire!" And what inhabitants! What horrid, fearful shapes, emblems of the rage against God and man, the envy, fury, despair, fixed within, -- causing them to gnash their teeth at Him they so long despised! Meanwhile, does it comfort them to see, across the great gulf, the righteous in Abraham's bosom? What a place is that! What a "house of God, eternal in the heavens!" Earth is only His footstool; yea,

The spacious firmament on high,

And all the blue, ethereal sky.

Well then may we say to its inhabitants,

Proclaim the glories of our Lord,

Dispersed through all the heavenly street;

Whose boundless treasures can afford

So rich a pavement for his feet.

And yet how inconsiderable is the glory of that house, compared to that of its great Inhabitant! in view of whom all the first-born sons of light, angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven, full of light as they are full of love,

Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes.

13. How wonderful, then, now the dream of life is over, now you are quite awake, do all these scenes appear! Even such a sight as never entered, or could enter into your hearts to conceive! How are all those that "awake up after his likeness, now satisfied with it!" They have now a portion, real, solid, incorruptible, "that fadeth not away." Meantime, how exquisitely wretched are they who (to wave all other considerations) have chosen for their portion those transitory shadows which now are vanished, and have left them in an abyss of real misery, which must remain to all eternity!

14. Now, considering that every child of man who is yet upon earth must sooner or later wake out of this dream, and enter real life; how infinitely does it concern every one of us to attend to this before our great change comes! Of what importance is it to be continually sensible of the condition wherein we stand! How advisable, by every possible means, to connect the ideas of time and eternity! so to associate them together, that the thought of one may never recur to your mind, without the thought of the other! It is our highest wisdom to associate the ideas of the visible and invisible world; to connect temporal and spiritual, mortal and immortal being. Indeed, in our common dreams we do not usually know we are asleep whilst we are in the midst of our dream. As neither do we know it while we are in the midst of the dream which we call life. But you may be conscious of it now! God grant you may, before you awake in a winding-sheet of fire!

15. What an admirable foundation for thus associating the ideas of time and eternity, of the visible and invisible world, is laid in the very nature of religion! For, what is religion, -- I mean scriptural religion? for all other is the vainest of all dreams. What is the very root of this religion? It is Immanuel, God with us! God in man! Heaven connected with earth! The unspeakable union of mortal with immortal. For "truly our fellowship" (may all Christians say) "is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. God hath given unto us eternal life; and this life is in his Son." What follows? "He that hath the Son hath life: And he that hath not the Son of God hath not life."

16. But how shall we retain a constant sense of this? I have often thought, in my waking hours, "Now, when I fall asleep, and see such and such things, I will remember it was but a dream." Yet I could not, while the dream lasted; and probably none else can. But it is otherwise with the dream of life; which we do remember to be such, even while it lasts. And if we do forget it, (as we are indeed apt to do,) a friend may remind us of it. It is much to be wished that such a friend were always near; one that would frequently sound in our ear, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead!" Soon you will awake into real life. You will stand, a naked spirit, in the world of spirits, before the face of the great God! See that you now hold fast that "eternal life, which he hath given you in his Son!"

17. How admirably does this life of God branch out into the whole of religion, -- I mean scriptural religion! As soon as God reveals his Son in the heart of a sinner, he is enabled to say, "The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." He then "rejoices in hope of the glory of God," even with joy unspeakable. And in consequence both of this faith and hope, the love of God is shed abroad in his heart; which, filling the soul with love to all mankind, "is the fulfilling of the law."

18. And how wonderfully do both faith and hope and love connect God with man, and time with eternity! In consideration of this, we may boldly say, --

Vanish then this world of shadows;

Pass the former things away!

Lord, appear! appear to glad us,

With the dawn of endless day!

O conclude this mortal story,

Throw this universe aside!

Come, eternal King of glory,

Now descend, and take thy bride!

[August 1789]

Sermon 122: On Faith

Sermon 122 [124]

On Faith

"Now faith is the evidence of things not seen."

Heb. 11:1.

1. Many times have I thought, many times have I spoke, many times have I wrote upon these words; and yet there appears to be a depth in them which I am in no wise able to fathom. Faith is, in one sense of the word, a divine conviction of God and of the things of God; in another, (nearly related to, yet not altogether the same,) it is a divine conviction of the invisible and eternal world. In this sense I would now consider, --

2. I am now an immortal spirit, strangely connected with a little portion of earth; but this is only for a while: In a short time I am to quit this tenement of clay, and to remove into another state,

Which the living know not,

And the dead cannot, or they may not tell!

What kind of existence shall I then enter upon, when my spirit has launched out of the body? How shall I feel myself, -- perceive my own being? How shall I discern the things that are round about me, either material or spiritual objects? When my eyes no longer transmit the rays of light, how will the naked spirit see? When the organs of hearing are mouldered into dust, in what manner shall I hear? When the brain is of no farther use, what means of thinking shall I have? When my whole body is resolved into senseless earth, what means shall I have of gaining knowledge?

3. How strange, how incomprehensible, are the means whereby I shall then take knowledge even of the material world! Will things appear then as they do now, -- of the same size, shape, and colour? Or will they be altered in any, or all these respects? How will the sun, moon, and stars appear? the sublunary heavens? the planetary heavens? the region of the fixed stars? -- how the fields of ether, which we may conceive to be millions of miles beyond them? Of all this we know nothing yet. And, indeed, we need to know nothing.

4. What then can we know of those innumerable objects which properly belong to the invisible world; which mortal "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into our heart to conceive?" What a scene will then be opened, when the regions of hades are displayed without a covering! Our English translators seem to have been much at a loss for a word to render this. Indeed, two hundred years ago, it was tolerably expressed by the word hell, which then signified much the same with the word hades, namely, the invisible world. Accordingly, by Christ descending into hell, they meant, his body remained in the grave, his soul remained in hades, (which is the receptacle of separate spirits,) from death to the resurrection. Here we cannot doubt but the spirits of the righteous are inexpressibly happy. They are, as St. Paul expresses it, "with the Lord," favoured with so intimate a communion with him as "is far better" than whatever the chief of the Apostles experienced while in this world. On the other hand, we learn from our Lord's own account of Dives and Lazarus, that the rich man, from the moment he left the world, entered into a state of torment. And "there is a great gulf fixed" in hades, between the place of the holy and that of unholy spirits, which it is impossible for either the one or the other to pass over. Indeed, a gentleman of great learning, the Honourable Mr. [Alexander] Campbell, in his account of the Middle State, published not many years ago, seems to suppose that wicked souls may amend in hades, and then remove to a happier mansion. He has great hopes that "the rich man," mentioned by our Lord, in particular, might be purified by that penal fire, till, in process of time, he might be qualified for a better abode. But who can reconcile this with Abraham's assertion that none can pass over the "great gulf?"

5. I cannot therefore but think, that all those who are with the rich man in the unhappy division of hades, will remain there, howling and blaspheming, cursing God and looking upwards, till they are cast into "the everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." And, on the other hand, can we reasonably doubt but that those who are now in paradise, in Abraham's bosom, -- all those holy souls who have been discharged from the body, from the beginning of the world unto this day, -- will be continually ripening for heaven; will be perpetually holier and happier, till they are received into "the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world?"

6. But who can inform us in what part of the universe hades is situated, -- this abode of both happy and unhappy spirits, till they are re-united to their bodies? It has not pleased God to reveal anything concerning it in the Holy Scripture; and, consequently, it is not possible for us to form any judgment, or even conjecture, about it. Neither are we informed, how either one or the other are employed, during the time of their abode there. Yet may we not probably suppose that the Governor of the world may sometimes permit wicked souls "to do his gloomy errands in the deep;" or, perhaps, in conjunction with evil angels, to inflict vengeance on wicked men? Or will many of them be shut up in the chains of darkness, unto the great judgment of the great day? In the mean time, may we not probably suppose, that the spirits of the just, though generally lodged in paradise, yet may sometimes, in conjunction with the holy angels, minister to the heirs of salvation? May they not

Sometimes, on errands of love,

Revisit their brethren below?

It is a pleasing thought, that some of these human spirits, attending us with, or in the room of, angels, are of the number of those that were dear to us while they were in the body. So that there is no absurdity in the question:

Have ye your own flesh forgot,

By a common ransom bought?

Can death's interposing tide

Spirits one in Christ divide?

But, be this as it may, it is certain human spirits swiftly increase in knowledge, in holiness, and in happiness; conversing with all the wise and holy souls that lived in all ages and nations from the beginning of the world; with angels and archangels, to whom the children of men are no more than infants; and above all, with the eternal Son of God, "in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." And let it be especially considered, whatever they learn they will retain for ever. For they forget nothing. To forget is only incident to spirits that are clothed with flesh and blood.

7. But how will this material universe appear to a disembodied spirit? Who can tell whether any of these objects that surround us will appear the same as they do now? And if we know so little of these, what can we now know concerning objects of a quite different nature? concerning the spiritual world? It seems it will not be possible for us to discern them at all, till we are furnished with senses of a different nature, which are not yet opened in our souls. These may enable us both to penetrate the inmost substance of things, whereof we now discern only the surface; and to discern innumerable things, of the very existence whereof we have not now the least perception. What astonishing scenes will then discover themselves to our newly-opening senses! Probably fields of ether, not only ten fold, but ten thousand fold, "the length of this terrene." And with what variety of furniture, animate and inanimate! How many orders of beings, not discovered by organs of flesh and blood! perhaps thrones, dominions, princedoms, virtues, powers! -- whether of those that retain their first habitations and primeval strength, or of those that, rebelling against their Creator, have been cast out of heaven! And shall we not then, as far as angel's ken, survey the bounds of creation, and see every place where the Almighty

Stopp'd his rapid wheels, and said, --

"This be thy just circumference, O world?"

Yea, shall we not be able to move, quick as thought, through the wide realms of uncreated night? Above all, the moment we step into eternity, shall we not feel ourselves swallowed up of Him who is in this and every place, -- who filleth heaven and earth? It is only the veil of flesh and blood which now hinders us from perceiving, that the great Creator cannot but fill the whole immensity of space. He is every moment above us, beneath us, and on every side. Indeed, in this dark abode, this land of shadows, this region of sin and death, the thick cloud which is interposed between conceals him from our sight. But the veil will disappear; and he will appear in unclouded majesty, "God over all, blessed for ever!"

8. How variously are the children of men employed in this world! In treading over "the paths they trod six thousand years before!" But who knows how we shall be employed after we enter that visible world? A little of it we may conceive, and that without any doubt, provided we keep to what God himself has revealed in his word, and what he works in the hearts of his children. Let us consider, First, what may be the employment of unholy spirits from death to the resurrection. We cannot doubt but the moment they leave the body, they find themselves surrounded by spirits of their own kind, probably human as well as diabolical. What power God may permit these to exercise over them, we do not distinctly know. But it is not improbable, he may suffer Satan to employ them, as he does his own angels, in inflicting death, or evils of various kinds, on the men that know not God: For this end they may raise storms by sea or by land; they may shoot meteors through the air; they may occasion earthquakes; and, in numberless ways, afflict those whom they are not suffered to destroy. Where they are not permitted to take away life, they may inflict various diseases; and many of these, which we judge to be natural, are undoubtedly diabolical. I believe this is frequently the case with lunatics. It is observable, that many of those mentioned in Scripture, who are called lunatics by one of the Evangelists, are termed demoniacs by another. One of the most eminent Physicians I ever knew, particularly in cases of insanity, the late Dr. [Thomas] Deacon, was clearly of opinion that this was the case with many, if not most, lunatics. And it is no valid objection to this, that these diseases are so often cured by natural means; for a wound inflicted by an evil spirit might be cured as any other, unless that spirit was permitted to repeat the blow.

9. May not some of these evil spirits be likewise employed, in conjunction with evil angels, in tempting wicked men to sin, and in procuring occasions for them? yea, and in tempting good men to sin, even after they have escaped the corruption that is in the world? Herein, doubtless, they put forth all their strength; and greatly glory if they conquer. A passage in an ancient author may greatly illustrate this: (Although I apprehend, he did not intend that we should take it literally:) "Satan summoned his powers, and examined what mischief each of them had done. One said, I have set a house on fire, and destroyed all its inhabitants.' Another said, I have raised a storm at sea, and sunk a ship; and all on board perished in the waters.' Satan answered, Perhaps those that were burnt or drowned were saved.' A third said, I have been forty years tempting a holy man to commit adultery; and I have left him asleep in his sin.' Hearing this, Satan rose to do him honour; and all hell resounded with his praise." Hear this, all ye that imagine you cannot fall from grace!

10. Ought not we then to be perpetually on our guard against those subtle enemies? Though we see them not, --

A constant watch they keep;

They eye us night and day;

And never slumber, never sleep,

Lest they should lose their prey.

Herein they join with "the rulers of the darkness," the intellectual darkness, "of this world," -- the ignorance, wickedness, and misery diffused through it, -- to hinder all good, and promote all evil! To this end they are continually "working with energy in the children of disobedience." Yea, sometimes they work by them those lying wonders that might almost deceive even the children of God.

11. But meantime, how may we conceive the inhabitants of the other part of hades, the souls of the righteous, to be employed? It has been positively affirmed by some philosophical men, that spirits have no place. But they do not observe, that if it were so, they must be omnipresent, -- an attribute which cannot be allowed to any but the Almighty Spirit. The abode of these blessed spirits the ancient Jews were used to term Paradise, -- the same name which our Lord gave it, telling the penitent thief, "This day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Yet in what part of the universe this is situated who can tell, or even conjecture, since it has not pleased God to reveal anything concerning it? But we have no reason to think they are confined to this place; or, indeed, to any other. May we not rather say, that, "servants of his," as well as the holy angels, they "do his pleasure;" whether among the inhabitants of earth, or in any other part of his dominions? And as we easily believe that they are swifter than the light; even as swift as thought; they are well able to traverse the whole universe in the twinkling of an eye, either to execute the divine commands, or to contemplate the works of God. What a field is here opened before them! And how immensely may they increase in knowledge, while they survey his works of creation or providence, or his manifold wisdom in the Church! What depth of wisdom, of power, and of goodness do they discover in his methods of "bringing many sons to glory!" Especially while they converse on any of these subjects, with the illustrious dead of ancient days! with Adam, first of men; with Noah, who saw both the primeval and the ruined world; with Abraham, the friend of God; with Moses, who was favoured to speak with God, as it were, "face to face;" with Job, perfected by sufferings; with Samuel, David, Solomon, Isaiah, Daniel, and all the Prophets; with the Apostles, the noble army of Martyrs, and all the saints who have lived and died to the present day; with our elder brethren, the holy angels, cherubim, seraphim, and all the companies of heaven; above all the name of creature owns, with Jesus, the Mediator of the new covenant! Meantime, how will they advance in holiness; in the whole image of God, wherein they were created; in the love of God and man; gratitude to their Creator, and benevolence to all their fellow-creatures! Yet it does not follow, (what some earnestly maintain,) that this general benevolence will at all interfere with that peculiar affection which God himself implants for our relations, friends, and benefactors. O no! had you stood by his bed-side, when that dying saint was crying out, "I have a father and a mother gone to heaven;" (to paradise, the receptacle of happy spirits;) "I have ten brothers and sisters gone to heaven; and now I am going to them that am the eleventh! Blessed be God that I was born!" would you have replied, "What, if you are going to them? They will be no more to you than any other persons; for you will not know them." Not know them! Nay, does not all that is in you recoil at that thought? Indeed, sceptics may ask, "How do disembodied spirits know each other?" I answer plainly, I cannot tell: But I am certain that they do. This is as plainly proved from one passage of Scripture as it could be from a thousand. Did not Abraham and Lazarus know each other in hades, even afar off? even though they were fixed on different sides of the "great gulf?" Can we doubt, then, whether the souls that are together in paradise shall know one another? The Scripture, therefore, clearly decides this question. And so does the very reason of the thing; for we know, every holy temper which we carry with us into paradise will remain in us for ever. But such is gratitude to our benefactors. This, therefore, will remain for ever. And this implies, that the knowledge of our benefactors will remain, without which it cannot exist.

12. And how much will that add to the happiness of those spirits which are already discharged from the body, that they are permitted to minister to those whom they have left behind! An indisputable proof of this we have in the twenty-second chapter of the Revelation. When the Apostle fell down to worship the glorious spirit which he seems to have mistaken for Christ, he told him plainly, "I am of thy fellow-servants, the Prophets;" [Rev. 22] not God, not an angel, not a human spirit. And in how many ways may they "minister to the heirs of salvation!" Sometimes by counteracting wicked spirits whom we cannot resist, because we cannot see them; sometimes by preventing our being hurt by men, or beasts, or inanimate creatures. How often may it please God to answer the prayer of good Bishop Ken! --

O may thine angels, while I sleep,

Around my bed their vigils keep;

Their love angelical instil;

Stop all the avenues [consequence] of ill!

May they celestial joys rehearse,

And thought to thought with me converse;

Or, in my stead, the whole night long,

Sing to my God a grateful song!

And may not the Father of spirits allot this office jointly to angels, and human spirits waiting to be made perfect?

13. It may indeed be objected that God has no need of any subordinate agents, of either angelical or human spirits, to guard his children in their waking or sleeping hours; seeing "He that keepeth Israel doth neither slumber nor sleep." And certainly, he is able to preserve them by his own immediate power; yea, and he is able, by his own immediate power, without any instruments at all, to supply the wants of all his creatures both in heaven and earth. But it is, and ever was, his pleasure, not to work by his own immediate power only, but chiefly by subordinate means, from the beginning of the world. And how wonderfully is his wisdom displayed in adjusting all these to each other! So that we may well cry out, "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all."

14. This we know, concerning the whole frame and arrangement of the visible world. But how exceeding little do we now know concerning the invisible! And we should have known still less of it, had it not pleased the Author of both worlds to give us more than natural light, to give us "his word to be a lantern to our feet, and a light in all our paths." And holy men of old, being assisted by his Spirit, have discovered many particulars of which otherwise we should have had no conception.

15. And without revelation, how little certainty of invisible things did the wisest of men obtain! The small glimmerings of light which they had were merely conjectural. At best they were only a faint, dim twilight, delivered from uncertain tradition; and so obscured by heathen fables, that it was but one degree better than utter darkness.

16. How uncertain the best of these conjectures was, may easily be gathered from their own accounts. The most finished of all these accounts, is that of the great Roman poet. Where observe how warily he begins, with that apologetic preface, -- Sit mihi fas audita loqui? -- "May I be allowed to tell what I have heard?" And, in the conclusion, lest anyone should imagine he believed any of these accounts, he sends the relater of them out of hades by the ivory gate, through which, he had just informed us, that only dreams and shadows pass, -- a very plain intimation, that all which has gone before, is to be looked upon as a dream!

17. How little regard they had for all these conjectures, with regard to the invisible world, clearly appears from the words of his brother poet; who affirms, without any scruple, --

Esse aliquos manes, et subterranea regna

Nec pueri credunt.

"That there are ghosts, or realms below, not even a man [boy] of them now believes."

So little could even the most improved reason discover concerning the invisible and eternal world! The greater cause have we to praise the Father of Lights, who hath opened the eyes of our understanding, to discern those things which could not be seen by eyes of flesh and blood; that He who of old time shined out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, and enlightened us with the light of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, "the author and finisher of our faith;" "by whom he made the worlds;" by whom he now sustains whatever he hath made; for,

Till nature shall her Judge survey,

The King Messiah reigns.

These things we have believed upon the testimony of God, the Creator of all things, visible and invisible; by this testimony we already know the things that now exist, though not yet seen, as well as those that will exist in their season, until this visible world will pass away, and the Son of Man shall come in his glory.

18. Upon the whole, what thanks ought we to render to God, who has vouchsafed this "evidence of things unseen" to the poor inhabitants of earth, who otherwise must have remained in utter darkness concerning them! How invaluable a gift is even this imperfect light, to the benighted sons of men! What a relief is it to the defects of our senses, and consequently, of our understanding; which can give us no information of anything, but what is first presented by the senses! But hereby a new set of senses (so to speak) is opened in our souls; and, by this means,

The things unknown to feeble sense,

Unseen by reason's glimmering ray,

With strong, commanding evidence,

Their heavenly origin display.

Faith lends its realizing light:

The clouds disperse, the shadows fly;

The' Invisible appears in sight,

And GOD is seen by mortal eye!

London, Jan. 17, 1791 [probably Wesley's last sermon]

[124] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 123: The Deceitfulness of the Human Heart

Sermon 123 [125]

The Deceitfulness of the Human Heart

"The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: Who can know it?"

Jer. 17:9.

1. The most eminent of the ancient Heathens have left us many testimonies of this. It was indeed their common opinion that there was a time when men in general were virtuous and happy; this they termed the "golden age." And the account of this was spread through almost all nations. But it was likewise generally believed that this happy age had expired long ago; and that men are now in the midst of the "iron age." At the commencement of this, says the poet, --

Irumpit venae pejoris in aeuum

Omne nefas: fugere pudor, verumque, fidesque

In quorum subiere locum, fraudesque, dolique

Insidiaeque, et vis, et amor sceleratus habendi.

Immediately broke in,

With a full tide, all wickedness and sin:

Shame, truth, fidelity, swift fled away;

And cursed thirst of gold bore unresisted sway.

2. But how much more knowing than these old Pagans are the present generation of Christians! How many laboured panegyrics do we now read and hear on the Dignity of Human Nature. One eminent preacher, in one of his sermons, preached and printed a few years ago, does not scruple to affirm, First, that men in general (if not every individual) are very wise; Secondly, that men in general are very virtuous; and Thirdly, that they are very happy: And I do not know that anyone yet has been so hardy as to controvert the assertion.

3. Nearly related to them were the sentiments of an ingenious gentleman who, being asked, "My Lord, what do you think of the Bible?" answered, "I think it is the finest book I ever read in my life. Only that part of it which indicates the mediatorial scheme, I do not understand; for I do not conceive there is any need of a Mediator between God and man. If indeed," continued he, "I was a sinner, then I should need a Mediator; but I do not conceive I am. It is true, I often act wrong, for want of more understanding: And I frequently feel wrong tempers, particularly proneness to anger; but I cannot allow this to be a sin; for it depends on the motion of my blood and spirits, which I cannot help. Therefore it cannot be a sin; or, if it be, the blame must fall, not on me, but on him that made me." The very sentiments of pious Lord Kames, and modest Mr. Hume!

4. Some years ago, a charitable woman discovered that there was no sinner in the world but the devil. "For," said she, "he forces men to act as they do; therefore they are unaccountable: The blame lights on Satan." But these more enlightened gentlemen have discovered that "there is no sinner in the world but God! For he forces men to think, speak, and act as they do; therefore the blame lights on God alone. Satan, avaunt! It may be doubted whether he himself ever uttered so fond a blasphemy as this!

5. But, whatever unbaptized or baptized infidels may say concerning the innocence of mankind, He that made man, and that best knows what he has made, gives a very different account of him. He informs us that "the heart of man," of all mankind, of every man born into the world, "is desperately wicked;" and that it is "deceitful above all things:" So that we may well ask, "Who can know it?"

I. 1. To begin with this: "The heart of man is desperately wicked." In considering this, we have no need to refer to any particular sins; these are no more than the leaves, or, at most, the fruits, which spring from that evil tree;) but rather to the general root of all. See how this was first planted in heaven itself, by "Lucifer, son of the morning;" -- till then undoubtedly "one of the first, if not the first archangel:" "Thou saidst, I will sit upon the side of the north." See self-will, the first-born of Satan! "I will be like the Most High." See pride, the twin sister of self-will. Here was the true origin of evil. Hence came the inexhaustible flood of evils upon the lower world. When Satan had once transfused his own self-will and pride into the parents of mankind, together with a new species of sin, -- love of the world, the loving the creature above the Creator, -- all manner of wickedness soon rushed in; all ungodliness and unrighteousness; shooting out into crimes of every kind; soon covering the whole face of the earth with all manner of abominations. It would be an endless task to enumerate all the enormities that broke out. Now the fountains of the great deep were broken up. The earth soon became a field of blood: Revenge, cruelty, ambition, with all sorts of injustice, every species of public and private wrongs, were diffused through every part of the earth. Injustice, in ten thousand forms, hatred, envy, malice, blood-thirstiness, with every species of falsehood, rode triumphant; till the Creator, looking down from heaven, would be no more entreated for an incorrigible race, but swept them off from the face of the earth. But how little were the following generations improved by the severe judgment! They that lived after the flood do not appear to have been a whit better than those that lived before it. In a short time, probably before Noah was removed from the earth, all unrighteousness prevailed as before.

2. But is there not a God in the world? Doubtless there is: And it is "He that hath made us, not we ourselves." He made us gratuitously, of his own mere mercy; for we could merit nothing of him before we had a being. It is of his mercy that he made us at all; that he made us sensible, rational creatures, and above all, creatures capable of God. It is this, and this alone, which puts the essential difference between men and brutes. But if he has made us, and given us all we have, if we owe all we are and have to him; then surely he has a right to all we are and have, -- to all our love and obedience. This has been acknowledged by almost all who believed themselves to be his creatures, in all ages and nations. But a few years ago a learned man frankly confessed: "I could never apprehend that God's having created us, gave him any title to the government of us; or, that his having created us, laid us under any obligation to yield him our obedience." I believe that Dr. Hutcheson was the first man that ever made any doubt of this; or that ever doubted, much less denied, that a creature was obliged to obey his Creator. If Satan ever entertained this thought, (but it is not probable he ever did,) it would be no wonder he should rebel against God, and raise war in heaven. And hence would enmity against God arise in the hearts of men also; together with all the branches of ungodliness which abound therein at this day. Hence would naturally arise the neglect of every duty which we owe to him as our Creator, and all the passions and hopes which are directly opposite to every such duty.

3. From the devil the spirit of independence, self-will, and pride, productive of all ungodliness and unrighteousness, quickly infused themselves into the hearts of our first parents in paradise. After they had eaten of the tree of knowledge, wickedness and misery of every kind rushed in with a full tide upon the earth, alienated us from God, and made way for all the rest. Atheism, (now fashionably termed dissipation,) and idolatry, love of the world, seeking happiness in this or that creature, covered the whole earth.

Upright both in heart and will,

We by our God were made;

But we turn'd from good to ill,

And o'er the creatures stray'd;

Multiplied our wandering thought,

Which first was fix'd on God alone;

In ten thousand objects sought

The bliss we lost in one.

4. It would be endless to enumerate all the species of wickedness, whether in thought, word, or action, that now overspread the earth, in every nation, and city, and family. They all centre in this, -- Atheism, or idolatry; pride, either thinking of themselves more highly than they ought to think, or glorying in something which they have received, as though they had not received it; independence and self-will, -- doing their own will, not the will of Him that made them. Add to this, seeking happiness out of God, in gratifying the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eye, and the pride of life. Hence it is a melancholy truth that (unless when the Spirit of God has made the difference) all mankind now, as well as four thousand years ago, "have corrupted their ways before the Lord; and every imagination of the thought of man's heart is evil, only evil, and that continually." However therefore men may differ in their outward ways, (in which, undoubtedly, there are a thousand differences,) yet in the inward root, the enmity against God, Atheism, pride, self-will, and idolatry, it is true of all, that "the heart of man," of every natural man, "is desperately wicked."

5. But if this be the case, how is it that everyone is not conscious of it? For who should "know the things of a man, like the spirit of a man that is in him?" Why is it that so few know themselves? For this plain reason: Because the heart is not only "desperately wicked," but "deceitful above all things." So deceitful, that we may well ask, "Who can know it?" Who, indeed, save God that made it? By his assistance we may, in the Second place, consider this, -- the deceitfulness of man's heart.

II. 1. It is deceitful above all things;" that is, in the highest degree, above all that we can conceive. So deceitful, that the generality of men are continually deceiving both themselves and others. How strangely do they deceive themselves, not knowing either their own tempers or characters, imagining themselves to be abundantly better and wiser than they are! The ancient poet supposes there is no exception to this rule, -- "that no man is willing to know his own heart." Ut nemo in sese tentat descendere, nemo! None but those who are taught of God!

2. And if men thus deceive themselves, is it any wonder that they deceive others also, and that we so seldom find "an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile?" In looking over my books, some years ago, I found the following memorandum: "I am this day thirty years old; and till this day I know not that I have met with one person of that age, except in my father's house, who did not use guile, more or less."

3. This is one of the sorts of desperate wickedness which cleaves to the nature of every man, proceeding from those fruitful roots, -- self-will, pride, and independence on God. Hence springs every species of vice and wickedness; hence every sin against God, our neighbour, and ourselves. Against God, -- forgetfulness and contempt of God, of his name, his day, his word, his ordinances; Atheism on the one hand, and idolatry on the other; in particular, love of the world, the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of life; the love of money, the love of power, the love of ease, the love of the "honour that cometh of men," the love of the creature more than the Creator, the being lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God: -- Against our neighbour, ingratitude, revenge, hatred, envy, malice, uncharitableness.

4. Hence there is in the heart of every child of man, an inexhaustible fund of ungodliness and unrighteousness, so deeply and strongly rooted in the soul, that nothing less than almighty grace can cure it. From hence naturally arises a plentiful harvest of all evil words and works; and to complete the whole, that complex of all evils, --

-- That foul monster, War, that we meet,

Lays deep the noblest work of the creation;

Which wears in vain its Maker's glorious image,

Unprivileged from thee!

In the train of this fell monster are murder, adultery, rape, violence, and cruelty of every kind. And all these abominations are not only found in Mahometan or Pagan countries, where their horrid practice may seem to be the natural result of equally horrid principles; but in those that are called Christian countries, yea, in the most knowing and civilized states and kingdoms. And let it not be said, "This is only the case in Roman Catholic countries." Nay, we that are called Reformed are not one whit behind them in all manner of wickedness. Indeed, no crime ever prevailed among the Turks or Tartars, which we here cannot parallel in every part of Christendom. Nay, no sin ever appeared in heathen or papal Rome, which is not found at this day in Germany, France, Holland, England, and every other Protestant as well as popish country. So that it might now be said, with as much truth and as few exceptions, of every court in Europe, as it was formerly in the court of Saul: "There is none righteous, no not one; they are altogether become abominable: There is none that understandeth, and seeketh after God."

5. But is there no exception as to the wickedness of man's heart? Yes, in those that are born of God. "He that is born of God keepeth himself, and that wicked one toucheth him not." God has "purified his heart by faith," so that his wickedness is departed from him. "Old things are passed away, and all things" in him "are become new." So that his heart is no longer desperately wicked, but "renewed in righteousness and true holiness." Only let it be remembered, that the heart, even of a believer, is not wholly purified when he is justified. Sin is then overcome, but it is not rooted out; it is conquered, but not destroyed. Experience shows him, First, that the roots of sin, self-will, pride, and idolatry, remain still in his heart. But as long as he continues to watch and pray, none of them can prevail against him. Experience teaches him, Secondly, that sin (generally pride or self-will) cleaves to his best actions: So that, even with regard to these, he finds an absolute necessity for the blood of atonement.

6. But how artfully does this conceal itself, not only from others, but even from ourselves! Who can discover it in all the disguises it assumes, or trace it through all its latent mazes? And if it be so difficult to know the heart of a good man, who can know the heart of a wicked one, which is far more deceitful? No unregenerate man, however sensible, ever so experienced, ever so wise in his generation. And yet these are they who pique themselves upon "knowing the world," and imagine they see through all men. Vain men! One may boldly say they "know nothing yet as they ought to know." Even that politician in the late reign neither knew the heart of himself or of other men, whose favourite saying was: "Do not tell me of your virtue, or religion: I tell you, every man has his price." Yes, Sir R[obert]; every man like you; everyone that sells himself to the devil.

7. Did that right honourable wretch, compared to whom Sir R[obert] was a saint, know the heart of man, -- he that so earnestly advised his own son, "never to speak the truth, to lie or dissemble as often as he speaks, to wear a mask continually?" that earnestly counselled him, "not to debauch single women," (because some inconveniences might follow,) "but always married women?" Would one imagine this grovelling animal ever had a wife or a married daughter of his own? O rare Lord C[hesterfield]! Did ever man so well deserve, though he was a Peer of the realm, to die by the side of Newgate? Or did ever book so well deserve to be burned by the common hangman, as his Letters? Did Mr. David Hume, lower, if possible, than either of the former, know the heart of man? No more than a worm or a beetle does. After "playing so idly with the darts of death," do you now find it a laughing matter? What think you now of Charon? Has he ferried you over Styx? At length he has taught you to know a little of your own heart! At length you know it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!

8. One of the ablest champions of infidelity (perhaps the most elegant, and the most decent writer that ever produced a system of religion without being in the least obliged to the Bible for it) breaks out in the fullness of his heart: "Who would not wish that there was full proof of the Christian revelation, since it is undoubtedly the most benevolent system that ever appeared in the world!" Might he not add a reason of another kind, -- Because without this man must be altogether a mystery to himself? Even with the help of Revelation, he knows exceeding little; but without it, he would know abundantly less, and nothing with any certainty. Without the light which is given us by the oracles of God, how could we reconcile his greatness with his meanness? While we acknowledged, with Sir John Davies, --

I know my soul has power to know all things,

Yet is she blind, and ignorant of all:

I know I'm one of nature's little kings;

Yet to the least and vilest things in thrall.

9. Who then knoweth the hearts of all men? Surely none but He that made them. Who knoweth his own heart? Who can tell the depth of its enmity against God? Who knoweth how deeply it is sunk into the nature of Satan?

III. 1. From the preceding considerations, may we not learn, First, "He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool?" For who that is wise would trust one whom he knows to be "desperately wicked?" especially, whom he hath known, by a thousand experiments, to be "deceitful above all things"? What can we expect, if we still trust a known liar and deceiver, but to be deceived and cheated to the end?

2. We may hence, in the Second place, infer the truth of that other reflection of Solomon: "Seest thou a man that is wise in his own eyes? there is more hope of a fool than of him." For at what a distance from wisdom must that man be who never suspected his want of it? And will not his thinking so well of himself prevent his receiving instruction from others? Will he no be apt to be displeased at admonition, and to construe reproof into reproach? Will he not therefore be less ready to receive instruction than even one that has little natural understanding? Surely no fool is so incapable of amendment as one that imagines himself to be wise. He that supposes himself not to need a physician, will hardly profit by his advice.

3. May we not learn hence, Thirdly, the wisdom of that caution, "Let him who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall?" Or, to render the text more properly,) "Let him that assuredly standeth take heed lest he fall." How firmly soever he may stand, he has still a deceitful heart. In how many instances has he been deceived already! And so he may again. Suppose he be not deceived now, does it follow that he never will? Does he not stand upon slippery ground? And is he not surrounded with snares? Into which he may fall and rise no more?

4. Is it not wisdom for him that is now standing, continually to cry to God, "Search me, O Lord, and prove me; try out my reins and my heart! Look well, if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting?" Thou alone, O God, "knowest the hearts of all the children of men:" O show thou me what spirit I am of, and let me not deceive my own soul! Let me not "think of myself more highly than I ought to think." But let me always "think soberly, according as thou hast given me the measure of faith!"

Halifax, April 21, 1790

[125] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 124: The Heavenly Treasure in Earthen Vessels

Sermon 124 [126]

The Heavenly Treasure in Earthen Vessels

"We have this treasure in earthen vessels."

2 Cor. 4:7.

1. How long was man a mere riddle to himself! For how many ages were the wisest of men utterly unable to reveal the mystery, to reconcile the strange inconsistencies, in him, -- the wonderful mixture of good and evil, of greatness and littleness, of nobleness and baseness [barrenness]? The more deeply they considered these things the more they were entangled. The more pains they took, in order to clear up the subject, the more they were bewildered in vain, uncertain conjectures.

2. But what all the wisdom of man was unable to do, was in due time done by the wisdom of God. When it pleased God to give an account of the origin of things, and of man in particular, all the darkness vanished away, and the clear light shone. "God said, Let us make man in our own image." It was done. In the image of God man was made. Hence we are enabled to give a clear, satisfactory account of the greatness, the excellency, the dignity of man. But "man, being in honour" did not continue therein, but rebelled 20 against his sovereign Lord. Hereby he totally lost, not only the favour, but likewise the image of God. And "in Adam all died." For fallen "Adam begat a son in his own likeness." And hence we are taught to give a clear, intelligible account of the littleness and baseness of man. He is sunk even below the beasts that perish. Human nature now is not only sensual but devilish. There is in every man born into the world, (what is not in any part of the brute creation; no beast is fallen so low,) a "carnal mind, which is enmity," direct enmity, "against God."

3. By considering, therefore, these things in one view, -- the creation and the fall of man, -- all the inconsistencies of his nature are easily and fully understood. The greatness and littleness, the dignity and baseness, the happiness and misery, of his present state, are no longer a mystery, but clear consequences of his original state and his rebellion against God. This is the key that opens the whole mystery, that removes all the difficulty, by showing what God made man at first, and what man has made himself. It is true, he may regain a considerable measure of "the image of God wherein he was created:" But still, whatever we regain, we shall "have this treasure in earthen vessels."

In order to have a clear conception of this, we may inquire, First, what is "the treasure" which we now have; and, in the Second place, consider how "we have this treasure in earthen vessels."

I. 1. And, First, let us inquire, What is this treasure which Christian believers have? I say, believers; for it is of these directly that the Apostle is here speaking. Part of this they have, in common with other men, in the remains of the image of God. May we not include herein, First, an immaterial principle, a spiritual nature, endued with understanding, and affections, and a degree of liberty; of a self-moving, yea, and self-governing power? (otherwise we were mere machines, stocks, and stones)? And, Secondly, all that is vulgarly called natural conscience; implying some discernment of the difference between moral good and evil, with an approbation of one, and disapprobation of the other, by an inward monitor excusing or accusing? Certainly, whether this is natural or superadded by the grace of God, it is found, at least in some small degree, in every child of man. Something of this is found in every human heart, passing sentence concerning good and evil, not only in all Christians, but in all Mahometans, all Pagans, yea, the vilest of savages.

2. May we not believe, that all Christians, though but nominally such, have sometimes at least, some desire to please God, as well as some light concerning what does really please him, and some convictions when the are sensible of displeasing him? Such treasure have all the children of men, more or less, even when they do not yet know God.

3. But it is not these of whom the Apostle is here speaking; neither is this the treasure which is the subject of his discourse. The persons concerning whom he is here speaking are those that are born of God; those that, "being justified by faith," have now redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins; those who enjoy that peace of God which passeth all understanding; whose soul doth magnify the Lord, and rejoice in him with joy unspeakable; and who feel the "love of God shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto them." This, then, is the treasure which they have received; -- a faith of the operation of God; a peace which sets them above the fear of death, and enables them in everything to be content; an hope full of immortality, whereby they already "taste of the powers of the world to come;" the love of God shed abroad in their hearts with love to every child of man, and a renewal in the whole image of God, in all righteousness and true holiness. This is properly and directly the treasure concerning which the Apostle is here speaking.

II. 1. But this, invaluable as it is, "we have in earthen vessels." The word is exquisitely proper, denoting both the brittleness of the vessels, and the meanness of the matter they are made of. It directly means, what we term earthenware; china, porcelain, and the like. How weak, how easily broken in pieces! Just such is the case with a holy Christian. We have the heavenly treasure in earthly, mortal, corruptible bodies. "Dust thou art," said the righteous Judge to his rebellious creature, till then incorruptible and immortal, "and to dust thou shalt return." How finely (but with what a mixture of light and darkness) does the heathen poet touch upon this change! Post ignem etherea domo subduxerat, -- "After man had stolen fire from heaven," (what an emblem of forbidden knowledge!) macies et nova febrium, -- that unknown army of consumptions, fevers, sickness, pain of every kind, fixed their camp upon earth, which till then they could no more have entered than they could scale heaven; and all tended to introduce and pave the way for the last enemy, death. From the moment that awful sentence was pronounced the body received the sentence of death in itself; if not from the moment our first parents completed their rebellion by eating of the forbidden fruit. May we not probably conjecture that there was some quality naturally in this, which sowed the seeds of death in the human body, till then incorruptible and immortal? Be this as it may, it is certain that, from this time, "the corruptible body has pressed down the soul." And no marvel, seeing the soul, during its vital union with the body, cannot exert any of its operations, any otherwise than in union with the body, with its bodily organs. But all of these are more debased and depraved by the fall of man, than we can possibly conceive; and the brain, on which the soul more directly depends, not less than the rest of the body. Consequently, if these instruments, by which the soul works, are disordered, the soul itself must be hindered in its operations. Let a musician be ever so skilful, he will make but poor music if his instrument be out of tune. From a disordered brain (such as is, more or less, that of every child of man) there will necessarily arise confusedness of apprehension, showing itself in a thousand instances; false judgment, the natural result thereof, and wrong inferences; and from these, innumerable mistakes will follow, in spite of all the caution we can use. But mistakes in the judgment will frequently give occasion to mistakes in practice; they will naturally cause our speaking wrong in some instances, and acting wrong in others; nay, they may occasion not only wrong words or actions, but wrong tempers also. If I judge a man to be better than he really is; in consequence I really love him more than he deserves. If I judge another to be worse than he really is; I shall, in consequence, love him less than he deserves. Now both these are wrong tempers. Yet possibly it may not be in my power to avoid either the one or the other.

2. Such are the unavoidable consequences of "having these treasures in earthen vessels." Not only death, and its forerunners, -- sickness, weakness, and pain, and a thousand infirmities, -- but likewise error, in ten thousand shapes, will be always ready to attack us. Such is the present condition of humanity! Such is the state of the wisest men! Lord, "what is man, that thou art still mindful of him; or the son of man, that thou regardest him?"

3. Something of this great truth, that the "corruptible body presses down the soul," -- is strongly expressed in those celebrated lines of the ancient poet. Speaking of the souls of men he says:

Igneus est ollis vigor, et coelestis origo

Semnibus; quantum non noxia corpora tardant,

Terrenique hebetant artus, moribundaque membra.

These seeds of heavenly fire,

With strength innate, would to their source aspire,

But that their earthly limbs obstruct their flight,

And check their soaring to the plains of light.

4. But suppose it pleased the all-wise Creator, for the sin of man, to suffer the souls of men in general to be weighed down in this miserable manner by their corruptible body; why does he permit the excellent treasure which he has entrusted to his own children, to be still lodged in these poor earthen vessels?" Would not this question naturally occur to any reflecting mind? Perhaps it would; and therefore the Apostle immediately furnishes us with a full answer: God has done this, that "the excellency of the power might be of God, and not of us;" that it might be undeniably plain to whom that excellent power belonged; that no flesh might glory in his sight; but that all who have received this treasure might continually cry, "Not unto us, but unto thee, O Lord, be the praise, for thy name and for thy truth's sake."

5. Undoubtedly this was the main design of God in this wonderful dispensation; to humble man, to make and keep him little and poor, and base, and vile, in his own eyes. And whatever we suffer hereby, we are well repaid, if it be a means of "hiding pride from man;" of laying us low in the dust, even then, when we are most in danger of being lifted up by the excellent gifts of God!

6. Nay, if we suffer hereby, from the mean habitation of the immortal spirit; if pain, sickness, and numberless other afflictions beside, to which we should not otherwise have been liable, assault us on every side, and at length bear us down into the dust of death; what are we losers by this? Losers! No, "In all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us." Come on then, disease, weakness, pain, -- afflictions, in the language of men. Shall we not be infinite gainers by them? Gainers for ever and ever! seeing "these light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!"

7. And are we not, by the consciousness of our present weakness, effectually taught wherein our strength lies? How loud does it proclaim, "Trust in the Lord Jehovah; for in him is everlasting strength!" Trust in Him who suffered a thousand times more than ever you can suffer! Hath he not all power in heaven and in earth? Then, what though

The heavenly treasure now we have

In a vile house of clay!

Yet He shall to the utmost save,

And keep it to that day.

Potto, June 17, 1790

[126] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 125: On Living Without God

Sermon 125 [127]

On Living Without God

"Without God in the world."

Eph. 2:12.

1. Perhaps these words might be more properly translated, Atheists in the world. This seems to be a little stronger expression than "without God in the world," which sounds nearly negative, and does not necessarily imply any more than the having no fellowship or intercourse with God. On the contrary, the word Atheist is commonly understood to mean something positive, -- the not only disclaiming any intercourse with him, but denying his very being.

2. The case of these unhappy men may be much illustrated by a late incident, the truth of which cannot reasonably be doubted, there having been so large a number of eye-witnesses. An ancient oak being cut down, and split through the midst, out of the very heart of the tree crept a large toad, and walked away with all the speed he could. Now how long, may we probably imagine, had this creature continued there? It is not unlikely it might have remained in its nest above a hundred years. It is not improbable it was nearly, if not altogether, coeval with the oak; having been some way or other enclosed therein at the time that it was planted. It is not therefore unreasonable to suppose that it had lived that strange kind of life at least a century. We say, it had lived; But what manner of life! How desirable! How enviable! As Cowley says:

O life, most precious and most dear!

O life, that Epicures would long to share!

Let us spend a few thoughts upon so uncommon a case, and make some improvement of it.

3. This poor animal had organs of sense; yet it had not any sensation. It had eyes, yet no ray of light ever entered its black abode. From the very first instant of its existence there, it was shut up in impenetrable darkness. It was shut up from the sun, moon and stars, and from the beautiful face of nature; indeed, from the whole visible world, as much as if it had no being.

4. As no air could penetrate its sable recess, it consequently could have no hearing. Whatever organs it was provided with, they could be of no use; seeing no undulating air could find a way through the walls that surrounded it. And there is no reason to believe that it had any sense analogous to those either of smelling or tasting. In a creature which did not need any food these could have been of no possible use. Neither was there any way whereby the objects of smell or taste could make their approach to it. It must be very little, if at all, that it could be acquainted even with the general sense, -- that of feeling: As it always continued in one unvaried posture amidst the parts that surrounded it, all of these being immovably fixed could make no new impression upon it. So that it had only one feeling from hour to hour, and from day to day, during its whole duration.

5. And as this poor animal was destitute of sensation, it must have equally been destitute of reflection. Its head (of whatever sort it was,) having no materials to work upon, no ideas of sensation of any kind, could not produce any degree of reflection. It scarce, therefore could have any memory, or any imagination. Nor could it have any locative power, while it was so closely bound in on every side. If it had in itself some springs of motion, yet it was impossible that power should be exerted, because the narrowness of its cavern could not allow of any change of place.

6. How exact a parallel may be drawn between this creature (hardly to be called an animal) and a man that is "without God in the world!" Such as are a vast majority of even those that are called Christians! I do not mean that they are Atheists, in the common sense of the word. I do not believe that these are so numerous as many have imagined. Making all the inquiry and observation I could for upwards of fifty years, I could not find twenty who seriously disbelieved the being of a God; nay, I have found only two of these (to the best of my judgment) in the British Islands: Both of these then lived in London, and had been of this persuasion many years. But several years before they were called to appear before God, both John S--- and John B--- were fully convinced that there is a God; and, what is more remarkable, they were first convinced that he is a terrible, and then that he is a merciful God. I mention these two accounts to show not only that there are real literal Atheists in the world; but also, that even then, if they will condescend to ask it, they may find "grace to help in time of need."

7. But I do not mean such as these when I speak of those who are Atheists or "without God in the world;" but of such as are only practical Atheists; as have not God in all their thoughts; such as have not acquainted themselves with him, neither have any fellowship with him; such as have no more intercourse with God, or the invisible world, than this animal had with the visible. I will endeavour to draw the parallel between these. And may God apply it to their hearts!

8. Every one of these is in exactly such a situation with regard to the invisible as the toad was in respect to the visible world. That creature had undoubtedly a sort of life, such as it was. It certainly had all the internal and external parts that are essential to animal life; and, without question, it had suitable juices, which kept up a kind of circulation. This was a life indeed! And exactly such a life is that of the Atheist, the man "without God in the world." What a thick veil is between him and the invisible world, which, with regard to him, is as though it had no being! He has not the least perception of it; not the most distant idea. He has not the least sight of God, the intellectual Sun; nor any the least attraction toward him, or desire to have any knowledge of his ways. Although His light be gone forth into all lands, and His sound unto the end of the world, yet he heareth no more thereof than of the fabled music of the spheres. He tastes nothing of the goodness of God or the powers of the world to come. He does not feel (as our Church speaks) the working of the Holy Spirit in his heart. In a word, he has no more intercourse with a knowledge of the spiritual world, than this poor creature had of the natural, while shut up in its dark enclosure.

9. But the moment the Spirit of the Almighty strikes the heart of him that was till then without God in the world, it breaks the hardness of his heart, and creates all things new. The Sun of Righteousness appears, and shines upon his soul, showing him the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. He is in a new world. All things round him are become new, such as it never before entered into his heart to conceive. He sees, so far as his newly-opened eyes can bear the sight,

The opening heavens around him shine,

With beams of sacred bliss.

He sees that he has "an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous;" and that he has "redemption in his blood, the remission of his sins." He sees "a new way that is opened into the holiest by the blood of Jesus;" and his "light shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

10. By the same gracious stroke, he that before had ears but heard not is now made capable of hearing. He hears the voice that raiseth the dead, -- the voice of Him that is "the resurrection and the life." He is no longer deaf to his invitations or commands, to his promises or threatenings; but gladly hears every word that proceeds out of his mouth, and governs thereby all his thoughts, words, and actions.

11. At the same time, he receives other spiritual senses, capable of discerning spiritual good and evil. He is enabled to taste, as well as to see, how gracious the Lord is. He enters into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, and tastes of the powers of the world to come. He finds Jesus' love far better than wine; yea, sweeter than honey or the honey-comb. He knows what that meaneth: "All thy garments smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia." He feels the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him; or, as our Church expresses it, "feels the workings of the Spirit of God in his heart." Meantime, it may easily be observed, that the substance of all these figurative expressions is comprised in that one word faith, taken in its widest sense; being enjoyed, more or less, by everyone that believes in the name of the Son of God. This change, from spiritual death to spiritual life, is properly the new birth; all the particulars whereof are admirably well expressed by Dr. Watts in one verse:

Renew my eyes, open my ears,

And form my soul afresh;

Give me new passions, joys and fears,

And turn the stone to flesh!

12. But before this universal change there may be many partial changes in a natural man, which are frequently mistaken for it, whereby many say, "Peace, peace!" to their souls, when there is no peace. There may be not only a considerable change in the life, so as to refrain from open sin, yea, the easily besetting sin; but also a considerable change of tempers, conviction of sin, strong desires, and good resolutions. And here we have need to take great care, not, on the one hand, to despise the day of small things; nor, on the other, to mistake any of these partial changes for that entire, general change, the new birth; that total change from the image of the earthly Adam into the image of the heavenly, from an earthly, sensual, devilish mind, into the mind that was in Christ.

13. Settle it therefore in your hearts, that however you may be changed in many other respects, yet in Christ Jesus, that is, according to the Christian institution, nothing will avail without the whole mind that was in Christ, enabling you to walk as Christ walked. Nothing is more sure than this: "If any man be in Christ," a true believer in him, "he is a new creature: Old things," in him, "are passed away; all things are become new."

14. From hence we may clearly perceive the wide difference there is between Christianity and morality. Indeed nothing can be more sure than that true Christianity cannot exist without both the inward experience and outward practice of justice, mercy, and truth; and this alone is given in morality. But it is equally certain that all morality, all the justice, mercy, and truth which can possibly exist without Christianity, profiteth nothing at all, is of no value in the sight of God, to those that are under the Christian dispensation. Let it be observed, I purposely add, "to those that are under the Christian dispensation," because I have no authority from the Word of God "to judge those that are without." Nor do I conceive that any man living has a right to sentence all the heathen and Mahometan world to damnation. It is far better to leave them to him that made them, and who is "the Father of the spirits of all flesh;" who is the God of the Heathens as well as the Christians, and who hateth nothing that he hath made. But meantime this is nothing to those that name the name of Christ: -- all those, being under the law, the Christian law, shall undoubtedly be judged thereby; and, of consequence, unless those be so changed as was the animal above mentioned, unless they have new senses, ideas, passions, tempers, they are no Christians. However just, true, or merciful they may be, they are but Atheists still!

15. Perhaps there may be some well-meaning persons who carry this farther still; who aver, that whatever change is wrought in men, whether in their hearts or lives, yet if they have not clear views of those capital doctrines, the fall of man, justification by faith, and of the atonement made by the death of Christ, and of his righteousness transferred to them, they can have no benefit from his death. I dare in no wise affirm this. Indeed I do not believe it. I believe the merciful God regards the lives and tempers of men more than their ideas. I believe he respects the goodness of the heart rather than the clearness of the head; and that if the heart of a man be filled (by the grace of God, and the power of his Spirit) with the humble, gentle, patient love of God and man, God will not cast him into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels because his ideas are not clear, or because his conceptions are confused. Without holiness, I own, "no man shall see the Lord;" but I dare not add, "or clear ideas."

16. But to return to the text. Let me entreat all of you who are still "without God in the world," to consider with all your humanity, benevolence, virtue, you are still

lnclusi tenebris, et carcere caeco:

Inclosed in darkness and infernal shade.

My dear friends! you do not see God. You do not see the Sun of righteousness. You have no fellowship with the Father, or with his Son, Jesus Christ. You never heard the voice that raiseth the dead. Ye know not the voice of your Shepherd. Ye have not received the Holy Ghost. Ye have no spiritual senses. You have your old, natural ideas, passions, joys, and fears; you are not new creatures. O cry to God, that he may rend the veil which is still upon your hearts; and which gives you occasion to complain, --

O dark, dark, dark, I still must say,

Amidst the blaze of gospel-day!

O that you may this day hear his voice, who speaketh as never man spake, saying, "Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee!" Is it not his voice that crieth aloud, "Look unto me, and be thou saved?" He saith, "Lo! I come!" Even so, Lord Jesus! Come quickly!

Rotherham, July 6, 1790

[127] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 126: On the Danger of Increasing Riches

Sermon 126 [128]

On the Danger of Increasing Riches

"If riches increase, set not thine heart upon them."

Ps. 62:10.

1. From that express declaration of our Lord, "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven," we may easily learn, that none can have riches without being greatly endangered by them. But if the danger of barely having them is so great, how much greater is the danger of increasing them! This danger is great even to those who receive what is transmitted to them by their forefathers; but it is abundantly greater to those who acquire them by their skill and industry. Therefore, nothing can be more prudent than this caution: "If riches increase, set not thine heart upon them."

2. It is true, riches, and the increase of them, are the gift of God. Yet great care is to be taken, that what is intended for a blessing, do not turn into a curse. To prevent which, it is highly expedient to consider seriously,

I. What is meant by riches; and when they may be said to increase.

II. What is implied in setting our hearts upon them; and how we may avoid it.

I. Consider, First, what is here meant by riches. Indeed some may imagine that it is hardly possible to mistake the meaning of this common word. Yet, in truth, there are thousands in this mistake; and many of them quite innocently. A person of note, hearing a sermon preached upon this subject several years since, between surprise and indignation broke out aloud, "Why does he talk about riches here? There is no rich man at Whitehaven, but Sir James L----r." And it is true there was none but he that had forty thousand pounds a year, and some millions in ready money. But a man may be rich that has not a hundred a year, nor even one thousand pounds in cash. Whosoever has food to eat, and raiment to put on, with something over, is rich. Whoever has the necessaries and conveniences of life for himself and his family, and a little to spare for them that have not, is properly a rich man; unless he is a miser, a lover of money, one that hoards up what he can and ought to give to the poor. For it so, he is a poor man still, though he has millions in the bank; yea, he is the poorest of men; for

The beggars but a common lot deplore;

The rich poor man's emphatically poor.

2. But here an exception may be made. A person may have more than necessaries and conveniences for his family, and yet not be rich. For he may be in debt; and his debts may amount to more than he is worth. But if this be the case, he is not a rich man, how much money soever he has in his hands. Yea, a man of business may be afraid that this is the real condition of his affairs, whether it be or no; and then he cannot be so charitable as he would, for fear of being unjust. How many that are engaged in trade, are in this very condition! those especially that trade to a very large amount; for their affairs are frequently so entangled, that it is not possible to determine, with any exactness, how much they are worth, or, indeed, whether they are worth anything or nothing. Should we not make a fair allowance for them?

3. And beware of forming a hasty judgment concerning the fortune of others. There may be secrets in the situation of a person, which few but God are acquainted with. Some years since, I told a gentleman, "Sir, I am afraid you are covetous." He asked me, "What is the reason of your fear?" I answered, "A year ago, when I made a collection for the expense of repairing the Foundery, you subscribed five guineas. At the subscription made this year you subscribed only half a guinea." He made no reply; but after a time asked, "Pray, Sir, answer me a question: Why do you live upon potatoes?" (I did so between three and four years.) I replied, "It has much conduced to my health." He answered, "I believe it has. But did you not do it likewise to save money?" I said, "I did; for what I save from my own meat, will feed another that else would have none." "But, Sir", said he, "if this be your motive you may save much more. I know a man that goes to the market at the beginning of every week: There he buys a pennyworth of parsnips, which he boils in a large quantity of water. The parsnips serve him for food, and the water for drink, the ensuing week So his meat and drink together cost him only a penny a week." This he constantly did, though he had then two hundred pounds a year, to pay the debts which he had contracted before he knew God! And this was he, whom I had set down for a covetous man!

4. But there are those who are conscious before God that they are rich. And, doubtless, some among you are of the number. You have more of the goods of this world than is needful either for yourself or your family. Let each consider for himself. Do your riches increase? Do not you understand that plain expression? Have you not more money, or more of money's worth, than you had ten or twenty years ago, or at this time last year? If you keep any account, you can easily know this. Indeed you ought to know; otherwise, you are not a good steward, even in this respect, of the mammon of unrighteousness. And every man, whether engaged in trade or not, ought to know whether his substance lessens or increases.

5. But many have found out a way never to be rich, though their substance increase ever so much. It is this: As fast as ever money comes in, they lay it out, either in land, or enlarging their business. By this means, each of these, keeping himself bare of money, can still say, "I am not rich;" yea, though he has ten, twenty, a hundred times more substance than he had some years ago. This may be explained by a recent case: A gentleman came to a merchant in London, a few years since, and told him, "Sir, I beg you will give me a guinea for a worthy family that is in great distress." He replied, "Really, Mr. M., I cannot well afford to give you it just now; but if you will call upon me when I am worth ten thousand pounds, upon such an occasion I will give you ten guineas." Mr. M., after some time, called upon him again, and said, "Sir, I claim your promise; now you are worth ten thousand pounds." He replied, "That is very true: But I assure you, I cannot spare one guinea so well as I could then."

6. It is possible for a man to cheat himself by this ingenious device. And he may cheat other men; for as long "as thou doest good unto thyself, men will speak well of thee." "A right good man," says the Londoner, "he is worth a plum" (a hundred thousand pounds). But, alas! he cannot deceive God; and he cannot deceive the devil. Ah, no! The curse of God is upon thee already, and on all that thou hast. And to-morrow, when the devil seizes thy soul, will he not say, "What do all thy riches profit thee?" Will they purchase a pillow for thy head, in the lake of fire burning with brimstone? Or will they procure thee a cup of "water to cool thy tongue," while thou art tormented in that flame?" O follow the wise direction here given! that God may not say unto thee, "Thou fool!"

7. This shift, therefore, will not avail. It will not be any protection, either against the wrath of God, or the malice and power of the devil. Thou art convicted already of "setting thy heart" upon thy riches, if thou layest all thou hast above the conveniences of life, on adding money to money, house to house, or field to field, without giving at least a tenth of thine income (the Jewish proportion) to the poor. By whatsoever means thy riches increase, whether with or without labour; whether by trade, legacies, or any other way; unless thy charities increase in the same proportion; unless thou givest a full tenth of thy substance, of thy fixed and occasional income; thou dost undoubtedly set thy heart upon thy gold, and it will "eat thy flesh as fire!"

8. But O! who can convince a rich man that he sets his heart upon riches? For considerably above half a century I have spoken on this head, with all the plainness that was in my power. But with how little effect! I doubt whether I have, in all that time, convinced fifty misers of covetousness. When the lover of money was described ever so clearly, and painted in the strongest colours, who applied it to himself? To whom did God, and all that knew him, say, "Thou art the man!" If he speaks to any of you that are present, O do not stop your ears! Rather say, with Zaccheus, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have done any wrong to any man, I restore fourfold." He did not mean that he had done this in time past; but that he determined to do so for the time to come. I charge thee before God, thou lover of money, to "go and do likewise!"

9. I have a message from God unto thee, O rich man! whether thou wilt hear, or whether thou wilt forbear. Riches have increased with thee; at the peril of thy soul, "set not thine heart upon them!" Be thankful to Him that gave thee such a talent, so much power of doing good. Yet dare not to rejoice over them, but with fear and trembling. Cave ne inhaereas, says pious Kempis, ne capiaris et pereas: "Beware thou cleave not unto them, lest thou be entangled and perish." Do not make them thy end, thy chief delight, thy happiness, thy God! See that thou expect not happiness in money, nor anything that is purchasable thereby; in gratifying either the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, or the pride of life.

10. But let us descend to particulars; and see that each of you deal faithfully with his own soul. If any of you have now twice, thrice, or four times as much substance as when you first saw my face, faithfully examine yourselves, and see if you do not set your hearts, if not directly on money or riches themselves, yet on some of the things that are purchasable thereby; which comes to the same thing. All those the Apostle John includes under that general name, the world; and the desire of them, or to seek happiness in them, under that form, "the love of the world." This he divides into three branches, "the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and the pride of life." Fairly examine yourselves with regard to these. And, First, as to "the desire of the flesh." I believe this means the seeking of happiness in the things that gratify the senses. To instance in one: Do not you seek your happiness in enlarging the pleasure of tasting. To be more particular: Do you not eat more plentifully, or more delicately, than you did ten or twenty years ago? Do not you use more drink, or drink of a more costly kind, than you did then? Do you sleep on as hard a bed as you did once, suppose your health will bear it? To touch on one point more: do you fast as often, now you are rich, as you did when you was poor? Ought you not, in all reason, to do this rather more often than more seldom? I am afraid your own heart condemns you. You are not clear in this matter.

11. The Second branch of the love of the world, "the desire of the eyes," is of a wider extent. We may understand thereby, the seeking our happiness in gratifying the imagination, (which is chiefly done by means of the eyes,) by grand, or new, or beautiful objects; -- If they may not all be reduced to one head; since neither grand nor beautiful objects are pleasing when the novelty of them is gone. But are not the veriest trifles pleasing as long as they are new? Do not some of you, on the score of novelty, seek no small part of your happiness in that trifle of trifles -- dress? Do not you bestow more money, or (which is the same) more time or pains, upon it than you did once? I doubt this is not done to please God. Then it pleases the devil. If you laid aside your need less ornaments some years since, -- ruffles, necklaces, spider-caps, ugly, unbecoming bonnets, costly linen, expensive laces, -- have you not, in defiance of religion and reason, taken to them again?

12. Perhaps you say you can now afford the expense. This is the quintessence of nonsense. Who gave you this addition to your fortune; or (to speak properly) lent it to you? To speak more properly still, who lodged it for a time in your hands as his stewards; informing you at the same time for what purposes he entrusted you with it? And can you afford to waste your Lord's goods, for every part of which you are to give an account; or to expend them in any other way than that which he hath expressly appointed? Away with this vile, diabolical cant! Let it never more come out of your lips. This affording to rob God is the very cant of hell. Do not you know that God entrusted you with that money (all above what buys necessaries for your families) to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to help the stranger, the widow, the fatherless; and, indeed, as far as it will go, to relieve the wants of all mankind? How can you, how dare you, defraud your Lord, by applying it to any other purpose? When he entrusted you with a little, did he not entrust you with it that you might lay out all that little in doing good? And when he entrusted you with more, did he not entrust you with that additional money that you might do so much the more good, as you had more ability? Had you any more right to waste a pound, a shilling, or a penny, than you had before? You have, therefore, no more right to gratify the desire of the flesh, or the desire of the eyes, now than when you was a beggar. O no! do not make so poor a return to your beneficent Lord! Rather, the more he entrusts you with, be so much the more careful to employ every mite as he hath appointed.

13. Ye angels of God, ye servants of his, that continually do his pleasure! our common Lord hath entrusted you also with talents far more precious than gold and silver, that you may minister in your various offices to the heirs of salvation. Do not you employ every mite of what you have received, to the end for which it was given you? And hath he not directed us to do his will on earth, as it is done by you in heaven? Brethren, what are we doing! Let us awake! Let us arise! Let us imitate those flaming ministers! Let us employ our whole soul, body and substance, according to the will of our Lord! Let us render unto God the things that are God's; even all we are, and all we have!

14. Most of those who when riches increase set their hearts upon them, do it indirectly in some of the preceding instances. But there are others who do this more directly; being, properly, "lovers of money;" who love it for its own sake; not only for the sake of what it procures. But this vice is very rarely found in children or young persons; but only, or chiefly, in the old, -- in those that have the least need of money, and the least time to enjoy it. Might not this induce one to think, that in many cases it is a penal evil; that it is a sin-punishing evil; that when a man has, for many years, hid his precious talent in the earth, God delivers him up to Satan, to punish by the inordinate love of it? Then it is that he is more and more tormented by that auri sacra fames, "that execrable hunger after gold" which can never be satisfied. No: It is most true, as the very Heathen observes, Crescit amor nummi, quantum ipsa pecunia crescit, -- "As money, so the love of money, grows; it increases in the same proportion." As in a dropsy, the more you drink, the more you thirst; till that unquenchable thirst plunge you into the fire which ever shall be quenched!

15. "But is there no way," you may ask, "either to prevent or to cure this dire disease?" There is one preventative of it, which is also a remedy for it; and I believe there is no other under heaven. It is this. After you have gained (with the cautions above given) all you can, and saved all you can, wanting for nothing; spend not one pound, one shilling, or one penny, to gratify either the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, or the pride of life; or indeed, for any other end than to please and glorify God. Having avoided this rock on the right hand, beware of that on the left. Secondly. Hoard nothing. Lay up no treasure on earth, but give all you can; that is, all you have. I defy all the men upon earth, yea, all the angels in heaven, to find any other way of extracting the poison from riches.

16. Let me add one word more. After having served you between sixty and seventy years; with dim eyes, shaking hands, and tottering feet, I give you one more advice before I sink into the dust. Mark those words of St. Paul: "Those that desire" or endeavour "to be rich," that moment "fall into temptation." Yea, a deep gulf of temptation, out of which nothing less than almighty power can deliver them. "They fall into a snare" -- the word properly means a steel trap, which instantly crushes the animal, taken therein,to pieces; -- "and into divers foolish and hurtful desires, which plunge men into destruction and perdition." You, above all men, who now prosper in the world, never forget these awful words! How unspeakably slippery is your path! How dangerous every step! The Lord God enable you to see your danger, and make you deeply sensible of it! O may you "awake up after his likeness, and be satisfied with it!"

17. Permit me to come a little closer still. Perhaps I may not trouble you any more on this head. I am pained for you that are "rich in this world." Do you give all you can? You who receive five hundred pounds a year, and spend only two hundred, do you give three hundred back to God? If not, you certainly rob God of that three hundred. You that receive two hundred, and spend but one, do you give God the other hundred? If not, you rob him of just so much. "Nay, may I not do what I will with my own?" Here lies the ground of your mistake. It is not your own. It cannot be, unless you are Lord of heaven and earth. "However, I must provide for my children." Certainly. But how? By making them rich? Then you will probably make them Heathens, as some of you have done already. "What shall I do, then?" Lord, speak to their hearts! else the Preacher speaks in vain. Leave them enough to live on, not in idleness and luxury, but by honest industry. And if you have not children, upon what scriptural or rational principle can you leave a groat behind you more than will bury you? I pray consider, what are you the better for what you leave behind you? What does it signify, whether you leave behind you ten thousand pounds, or ten thousand shoes and boots? O leave nothing behind you! Send all you have before you into a better world! Lend it, lend it all unto the Lord, and it shall be paid you again! Is there any danger that his truth should fail? It is fixed as the pillars of heaven. Haste, haste, my brethren, haste! lest you be called away before you settled what you have on this security! When this is done, you may boldly say, "Now I have nothing to do but to die! Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit! Come, Lord Jesus! Come quickly!"

Bristol, September 21, 1790.

[128] [text from the 1872 edition]

Fourth Series

Sermon 127: The Trouble and Rest of Good Men

Sermon 127 [129]

The Trouble and Rest of Good Men [130] [131] [132]

"There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest."

Job 3:17.

When God at first surveyed all the works he had made, "behold, they were very good." All were perfect in beauty, and man, the lord of all, was perfect in holiness. And as his holiness was, so was his happiness. Knowing no sin, he knew no pain. But when sin was conceived, it soon brought forth pain; the whole scene was changed in a moment. He now groaned under the weight of a mortal body, and, what was far worse, a corrupted soul. That "spirit" which could have borne all his other "infirmities" was itself "wounded," and sick unto death. Thus, "in the day wherein he sinned, he began to "die;" and thus "in the midst of life we are in death;" yea, "the whole creation groaneth together," "being in bondage to sin," and therefore to misery.

The whole world is, indeed, in its present state, only one great infirmary. All that are therein are sick of sin; and their one business there is to be healed. And for this very end, the great Physician of souls is continually present with them; marking all the diseases of every soul, and "giving medicines to heal its sickness." These medicines are often painful, too: Not that God willingly afflicts his creatures, but he allots them just as much pain as is necessary to their health; and for that reason -- because it is so.

The pain of cure must, then, be endured by every man, as well as the pain of sickness. And herein is manifest the infinite wisdom of Him who careth for us, that the very sickness of those with whom he converses may be a great means of every man's cure. The very wickedness of others is, in a thousand ways, conducive to a good man's holiness. They trouble him, it is true; but even that trouble is "health to his soul, and marrow to his bones." He suffers many things from them; but it is to this end, that he may be "made perfect through" those "sufferings."

But as perfect holiness is not found on earth, so neither is perfect happiness. [In this life adult Christians are saved from all sin, and are made perfect in love. See Mr. Wesley's "Plain Account of Christian Perfection." -- Edit.] Some remains of our disease will ever be felt, and some physic be necessary to heal it. Therefore we must be, more or less, subject to the pain of cure, as well as the pain of sickness. And, accordingly, neither do "the wicked" here "cease from troubling," nor can "the weary be at rest."

Who, then will "deliver" us "from the body of this death?" Death will deliver us. Death shall set those free in a moment, who "were all their life-time subject to bondage." Death shall destroy at once the whole body of sin, [This doctrine, that we are saved from sin by death, is nowhere taught in sacred Scripture, as Mr. Wesley afterwards perceived, and demonstrated in the treatise just mentioned, and in several of his Sermons. -- Edit.] and therewith of its companion, -- pain. And therefore, "there the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest."

The Scriptures give us no account of the place where the souls of the just remain from death to the resurrection; but we have an account of their state in these words: In explaining which I shall consider,

I. How the wicked do here trouble good men; and,

II. How the weary are there at rest."

[I.] Let us consider, First, how the "wicked" here "trouble" good men. And this is a spacious field. Look round the world; take a view of all the troubles therein: How few are there whereof the wicked are not the occasion! "From whence come wars and fightings among you?" Whence all the ills that embitter society; that often turn that highest of blessings into a curse, and make it "good for man to be alone?" "Come they not hence," from self-will, pride, inordinate affection? in one word, from wickedness? And can it be otherwise, so long as it remains upon earth? As well may "the Ethiopian change his skin," as a wicked man cease to trouble both himself and his neighbour, but especially good men: Inasmuch as, while he is wicked he is continually injuring either them, or himself, or God.

First. Wicked men trouble those who serve God, by the injuries they do them. As at first, "he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now." And so it must be, till all things are fulfilled; "till heaven and earth pass away," "all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." For there is an irreconcilable enmity between the Spirit of Christ, and the spirit of the world. If the followers of Christ "were of the world, the world would love its own: But because they are not of the world, therefore the world hateth them." And this hatred they will not fail to show by their words: They will "say all manner of evil against them falsely;" "they will find out many inventions" whereby even "the good that is in them may be evil spoken of," and in a thousand instances lay to their charge the ill that they know not. From words in due time they proceed to deeds; treating the servants as their forefathers did their Master; wronging and despitefully using them in as many ways as fraud can invent and force accomplish.

[2.] It is true, these troubles sit heaviest upon those who are yet weak in the faith; and the more of the Spirit of Christ any man gains, the lighter do they appear to him. So that to him who is truly renewed therein, who is full of the knowledge and love of God, all the wrongs of wicked men are not only no evils, but are matter of real and solid joy. But still, though he rejoices for his own sake, he cannot but grieve for theirs. "He hath great heaviness and continual sorrow in" his "heart, for" his "brethren according to the flesh," who are thus "treasuring up to themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God." His eyes weep for them in secret places; he is horribly afraid for them; yea, he "could even wish to be accursed" himself, so they might inherit a blessing. And thus it is, that they who can not only slight, but rejoice in the greatest injury done to them, yet are troubled at that which wicked men do to themselves and the grievous misery that attends them.

[3.] How much more are they troubled at the injuries wicked men are continually offering to God! This was the circumstance which made the contradiction of sinners so severe a trial to our Lord himself: "He that despiseth me, despiseth Him that sent me." And how are these despisers now multiplied upon earth! Who fear not the Son, neither the Father. How are we surrounded with those who blaspheme the Lord and his Anointed; either reviling the whole of his glorious gospel, or making him a liar as to some of the blessed truths which he hath graciously revealed therein! How many of those who profess to believe the whole, yet, in effect preach another gospel; so disguising the most essential doctrines thereof by their new interpretations, as to retain the words only, but nothing of "the faith once delivered to the saints!" How many who have not yet made shipwreck of the faith are strangers to the fruits of it! It hath not purified their hearts; it hath not overcome the world; they are yet "in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity." They are still "lovers of themselves," "lovers of the world," "lovers of pleasure," and not "lovers of God." Lovers of God? No. He "is not in all their thoughts!" They delight not in Him, they do not thirst after Him; they do not rejoice in doing his will, neither make their boast of his praise! O faith, working by love, whither art thou fled? Surely the Son of man did once plant thee upon earth. Where then art thou now? Among the wealthy? No. "The deceitfulness of riches" there "chokes the word, and it becometh unfruitful." Among the poor? No. "The cares of the world" are there, so that it bringeth forth no fruit to perfection. However, there is nothing to prevent its growth among those who have neither poverty nor riches:" -- Yes; "the desire of other things." And experience shows, by a thousand melancholy examples, that the allowed desire of anything, great or small, otherwise than as a means to the one thing needful, will by degrees banish the care of that out of the soul, and unfit it for every good word or work.

Such is the trouble -- not to descend to particulars, which are endless -- that wicked men [continually] occasion to the good. Such is the state of all good men while on earth: But it is not so with their souls in paradise. In the moment wherein they are loosed from the body they know pain no more. Though they are not yet possessed of the "fullness of joy," yet all grief is done away. For "there the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest."

II. 1. "There the weary are at rest" -- which was the Second thing to be considered, -- not only from those evils which prudence might have prevented, or piety removed, even in this life; but from those which were inseparable therefrom, which were their unavoidable portion on earth. They are now at rest, whom wicked men would not suffer to rest before: For into the seat of the spirits of just men, none but the spirits of the just can enter. They are at length hid from the scourge of the tongue: Their name is not here cast out as evil. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the Prophets, do not revile, or separate them from their company. They are no longer despitefully used, and persecuted; neither do they groan under the hand of the oppressor. No injustice, no malice, no fraud is there; they are all "Israelites indeed, in whom there is no guile." There are no sinners against their own souls; therefore there is no painful pity, no fear for them. There are no blasphemers of God or of his word; no profaners of his name or of his Sabbaths; no denier of the Lord that bought him; none that trample upon the blood of his everlasting covenant: In a word, no earthly or sensual, no devilish spirit; none who do not love the Lord their God with all their heart.

2. There, therefore, "the weary are at rest" from all the troubles which the wicked occasioned; and, indeed, from all the other evils which are necessary in this world, either as the consequence of sin, or for the cure of it. They are at rest, in the First place, from bodily pain. In order to judge of the greatness of this deliverance, let but those who have not felt it take a view of one who lies on a sick or death bed. Is this he that was "made a little lower than the angels?" How is the glory departed from him! His eye is dim and heavy; his cheek pale and wan; his tongue falters; [his hand trembles;] his breast heaves and pants; his whole body is now distorted, and writhed to and fro; now moist, and cold, and motionless, like the earth to which it is going. And yet, all this which you see is but the shadow of what he feels. You see not the pain that tears his heart, that shoots through all his veins, and chases the flying soul through every part of her once-loved habitation. Could we see this, too, how earnestly should we cry out: "O sin, what hast thou done! To what hast thou brought the noblest part of the visible creation! Was it for this the good God made man?" O no! Neither will he suffer it long. Yet a little while, and all the storms of life shall be over, and thou shalt be gathered into the storehouse of the dead; and "there "the weary are at rest."

3. They "are at rest" from all these infirmities and follies which they could not escape in this life. They are no longer exposed to the delusions of sense, or the dreams of imagination. They are not hindered from seeing the noblest truths, by inadvertence; nor do they ever lose the sight they have once gained, by inattention. They are not entangled with prejudice, nor ever misled by hasty or partial views of the object: And, consequently, no error is there. O blessed place, where truth alone can enter! truth unmixed, undisguised, enlightening every man who cometh into the world! where there is no difference of opinions; but all think alike; all are of one heart, and of one mind: Where that offspring of hell, controversy, which turneth this world upside down, can never come: Where those who have been sawn asunder thereby, and often cried out in the bitterness of their soul, "Peace, peace!" shall find what they then sought in vain, even a peace which none taketh from them.

4. And yet all this, inconceivably great as it is, is the least part of their deliverance. For in the moment wherein they shake off the flesh, they are delivered, not only from the troubling of the wicked, not only from pain and sickness, from folly and infirmity; but also from all sin. A deliverance this, in sight of which all the rest vanish away. This is the triumphal song which everyone heareth when he entereth the gates of paradise: -- "Thou, being dead, sinnest no more. Sin hath no more dominion over thee. For in that thou diedst, thou diedst unto sin once; but in that thou livest, thou livest unto God." [The sentiment which is here again expressed, that it is death which destroys sin in the human heart, though couched in the language of an Apostle, is a branch of that philosophical Mysticism which Mr. Wesley entertained at this early period of his life, and which he afterwards renounced for the scriptural doctrine of salvation by faith. According to the New Testament, every believer is already delivered from the dominion of sin; and the Bible never represents the entire sanctification of our nature as effected by death. It is the work of the Holy Spirit; and is not suspended upon the dissolution of the body; but upon the exercise of a steadfast faith in the almighty Saviour. -- Edit.]

5. There then "the weary be at rest." The blood of the Lamb hath healed all their sickness, hath washed them throughly from their wickedness, and cleansed them from their sin. The disease of their nature is cured; they are at length made whole; they are restored to perfect soundness. They no longer mourn the "flesh lusting against the Spirit;" the "law in their members" is now at an end, and no longer "wars against the law of their mind, and brings them into captivity to the law of sin." There is no root of bitterness left; no remains even of that sin which did "so easily beset them;" no forgetfulness of "Him in whom they live, move, and have their being;" no ingratitude to their gracious Redeemer, who poured out his soul unto the death for them; no unfaithfulness to that blessed Spirit who so long bore with their infirmities. In a word, no pride, no self-will is there; so that they who are thus "delivered from the bondage of corruption" may indeed say one to another, and that in an emphatical sense, "Beloved, now we are the children of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."

6. Let us view a little more nearly the state of a Christian at his entrance into the other world. Suppose "the silver cord" of life just "loosed," and "the wheel broken at the cistern;" the heart can now beat no more; the blood ceases to move; the last breath flies off from the quivering lips, and the soul springs forth into eternity. What are the thoughts of such a soul, that has just subdued her last enemy, death? That sees the body of sin lying beneath her, and is new born into the world of spirits? How does she sing, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be unto God,' who hath given me the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ!' O happy day, wherein I shall begin to live! wherein I shall taste my native freedom! When I was born of a woman' I had but a short time to live,' and that time was full of misery;' that corruptible body pressed me down, and enslaved me to sin and pain. But the snare is broken, and I am delivered. Henceforth I know them no more. That head is no more an aching head: Those eyes shall no more run down with tears: That heart shall no more pant with anguish or fear; be weighed down with sorrow or care: Those limbs shall no more be racked with pain: Yea, sin hath no more dominion over' me. At length, I have parted from thee, O my enemy; and I shall see thy face no more! I shall never more be unfaithful to my Lord, or offend the eyes of his glory: I am no longer that wavering, fickle, self-inconsistent creature, sinning and repenting, and sinning again. No. I shall never cease, day or night, to love and praise the Lord my God, with all my heart, and with all my strength. But what are ye? Are all these ministering spirits sent forth to minister to' one heir of salvation?' Then, dust and ashes, farewell! I hear a voice from heaven saying, Come away, and rest from thy labours. Thy warfare is accomplished, thy sin is pardoned; and the days of thy mourning are ended.'"

7. My brethren, these truths need little application. Believe ye that these things are so? What then hath each of you to do, but to "lay aside every weight, and run with patience the race set before him?" To "count all things" else "but dung" and dross; especially those grand idols, learning and reputation, if they are pursued in any other measure, or with any other view, than as they conduce to the knowledge and love of God? to have this "one thing" continually in thine heart, "when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up?" -- to have thy "loins" ever "girt," and "thy light burning?" -- to serve the Lord thy God with all thy might; if by any means, when He requireth thy soul of thee, perhaps in an hour when thou lookest not for Him, thou mayst enter "where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest."

[129] [text from the 1872 edition]

[130] Preached at St. Mary's in Oxford, on Sunday, Sept. 21, 1735

[131] Published at the request of several of the hearers

[132] [This appears to have been the first Sermon that Mr. Wesley ever committed to the press. It was preached about a month before he sailed for Georgia; and published the same year by C. Rivington, in St. Paul's Church-Yard. After remaining out of print upwards of ninety years, it is here republished as an authentic, and not uninteresting, specimen of his preaching at the time when he left his native country to convert Heathens; and, as he states, learned in the ends of the earth, what he least suspected, that he had never been converted himself. The reader will observe that while the Sermon displays great seriousness and zeal, it exhibits a very inadequate view of real Christianity. The Preacher attributes the sanctification of human nature, in a great measure, to personal sufferings; assumes that the body is the seat of moral evil; and that sin exists in the best of Christians till they obtain deliverance by the hand of death. With what ability and success he afterwards opposed these unevangelical principles, and taught the doctrine of present salvation from all sin, by faith in Jesus Christ, is well known to all who are conversant with his Works, and especially with his Journal and Sermons. Viewed in connexion with his subsequent writings, this Sermon is of considerable importance, as it serves very strikingly to illustrate the change which took place in his religious sentiments previously to his entrance upon that astonishing career of ministerial labour and usefulness, by which he was so eminently distinguished. As a perfect antidote to the doctrinal mistakes which it contains, the reader is referred to the admirable Sermon, entitled, "The Scripture Way of Salvation," [43] (Sermons, vol. 2, p. 43.) -- Edit.]

Sermon 128: Free Grace

Sermon 128 [133]

Free Grace [134]

To The Reader:

Nothing but the strongest conviction, not only that what is here advanced is "the truth as it is in Jesus," but also that I am indispensably obliged to declare this truth to all the world, could have induced me openly to oppose the sentiments of those whom I esteem for their work's sake: At whose feet may I be found in the day of the Lord Jesus!

Should any believe it his duty to reply hereto, I have only one request to make, -- Let whatsoever you do, be done inherently, in love, and in the spirit of meekness. Let your very disputing show that you have "put on, as the elect of God, bowel of mercies, gentleness, longsuffering; "that even according to this time it may be said, "See how these Christians love one another!"

Whereas a pamphlet entitled, "Free Grace Indeed," has been published against this Sermon; this is to inform the publisher, that I cannot answer his tract till he appears to be more in earnest. For I dare not speak of "the deep things of God" in the spirit of a prize-fighter or a stage-player.

"He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how

shall he not with him also freely give us all things?"

Rom. 8:32

1. How freely does God love the world! While we were yet sinners, "Christ died for the ungodly." While we were "dead in our sin," God "spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all." And how freely with him does he "give us all things!" Verily, FREE GRACE is all in all!

2. The grace or love of God, whence cometh our salvation, is FREE IN ALL, and FREE FOR ALL.

3. First. It is free in all to whom it is given. It does not

depend on any power or merit in man; no, not in any degree, neither in whole, nor in part. It does not in anywise depend either on the good works or righteousness of the receiver; not on anything he has done, or anything he is. It does not depend on his endeavors. It does not depend on his good tempers, or good desires, or good purposes and intentions; for all these flow from the free grace of God; they are the streams only, not the fountain. They are the fruits of free grace, and not the root. They are not the cause, but the effects of it. Whatsoever good is in man, or is done by man, God is the author and doer of it. Thus is his grace free in all; that is, no way depending on any power or merit in man, but on God alone, who freely gave us his own Son, and "with him freely giveth us all things.

4. But it is free for ALL, as well as IN ALL. To this some have answered, "No: It is free only for those whom God hath ordained to life; and they are but a little flock. The greater part of God hath ordained to death; and it is not free for them. Them God hateth; and, therefore, before they were born, decreed they should die eternally. And this he absolutely decreed; because so was his good pleasure; because it was his sovereign will. Accordingly, they are born for this, -- to be destroyed body and soul in hell. And they grow up under the irrevocable curse of God, without any possibility of redemption; for what grace God gives. he gives only for this, to increase, not prevent, their damnation."

5. This that decree of predestination. But methinks I hear one say, "This is not the predestination which I hold: I hold only the election of grace. What I believe is not more than this, -- that God,, before the foundation of the world, did elect a certain number of men to be justified, sanctified, and glorified. Now, all these will be saved, and none else; for the rest of mankind God leaves to themselves: So they follow the imaginations of their own hearts, which are only evil continually, and, waxing worse and worse, are at length justly punished with everlasting destruction."

6. Is this all the predestination which you hold? Consider; perhaps this is not all. Do not you believe God ordained them to this very thing" If so, you believe the whole degree; you hold predestination in the full sense which has been above described. But it may be you think you do not. Do not you then believe, God hardens the hearts of them that perish: Do not you believe, he (literally) hardened Pharaoh's heart; and that for this end he raised him up, or created him? Why, this amounts to just the same thing. If you believe Pharaoh, or any one man upon earth, was created for this end, -- to be damned, -- you hold all that has been said of predestination. And there is no need you should add, that God seconds his degree, which is supposed unchangeable and irresistible, by hardening the hearts of those vessels of wrath whom that decree had before fitted for destruction.

7. well, but it may be you do not believe even this; you do not hold any decree of reprobation; you do not think God decrees any man to be damned, not hardens, irresistibly fits him, for damnation; you only say, "God eternally decreed, that all being dead in sin, he would say to some of the dry bones, Live, and to others he would not; that, consequently, these should be made alive, and those abide in death, -- these should glorify God by their salvation, and those by their destruction."

8. Is not this what you mean by the election of grace? If it be, I would ask one or two question: Are any who are not thus elected saved? or were any, from the foundation of the world? Is it possible any man should be saved unless he be thus elected? If you say, "No," you are but where you was; you are not got one hair's breadth farther; you still believe, that, in consequence of an unchangeable, irresistible decree of God, the greater part of mankind abide in death, without any possibility of redemption; inasmuch as none can save them but God, and he will not save them. You believe he hath absolutely decreed not to save them; and what is this but decreeing to damn them? It is, in effect, neither more not less; it comes to the same thing; for if you are dead, and altogether unable to make yourself alive, then, if God has absolutely decreed he will make only others alive, and not you, he hath absolutely decreed your everlasting death; you are absolutely consigned to damnation. So then, though you use softer words than some, you mean the self-same thing; and God's decree concerning the election of grace, according to your account of it, amounts to neither more not less than what others call God's decree of reprobation.

9. Call it therefore by whatever name you please, election, preterition, predestination, or reprobation, it comes in the end to the same thing. The sense of all is plainly this, -- by virtue of an eternal, unchangeable, irresistible decree of God, on part of mankind are infallibly saved, and the rest infallibly damned; it being impossible that any of the former should be damned. or that any of the latter should be saved.

10. But if this be so, then is all preaching vain. It is needless to them that are elected; for they, whether with preaching or without, will infallibly be saved. Therefore, the end of preaching -- to save should -- is void with regard to them; and it is useless to them that are not elected, for they cannot possibly be saved: They, whether with preaching or without, will infallibly be damned. The end of preaching is therefore void with regard to them likewise; so that in either case our preaching is vain, as you hearing is also vain.

11. This then, is a plain proof that the doctrine of predestination is not a doctrine of God, because it makes void the ordinance of God; and God is not divided against himself. A Second is, that it directly tends to destroy that holiness which is the end of all the ordinances of God. I do not say, none who hold it are holy; (for God is of tender mercy to those who are unavoidably entangled in errors of any kind;) but that the doctrine itself, -- that every man is either elected or not elected from eternity, and that the one must inevitably be saved, and the other inevitably damned, -- has a manifest tendency to destroy holiness in general; for it wholly takes away those first motives to follow after it, so frequently proposed in Scripture, the hope of future reward and fear of punishment, the hope of heaven and fear of hell. That these shall go away into everlasting punishment, and those into life eternal, is not motive to him to struggle for life who believes his lot is cast already; it is not reasonable for him so to do, if he thinks he is unalterably adjudged either to life or death. You will say, "But he knows not whether it is life or death." What then? -- this helps not the matter; for if a sick man knows that he must unavoidably die, or unavoidably recover, though he knows not which, it is unreasonable for him to take any physic at all. He might justly say, (and so I have heard some speak, both in bodily sickness and in spiritual,) "If I am ordained to life, I shall live; if to death, I shall live; so I need not trouble myself about it." So directly does this doctrine tend to shut the very gate of holiness in general, -- to hinder unholy men from ever approaching thereto, or striving to enter in thereat.

12. as directly does this doctrine tend to destroy several particular branches of holiness. Such are meekness and love, -- love, I mean, of our enemies, -- of the evil and unthankful. I say not, that none who hold it have meekness and love; (for as is the power of God, so is his mercy;) but that it naturally tends to inspire, or increase, a sharpness or eagerness of temper, which is quite contrary to the meekness of Christ; as then especially appears, when they are opposed on this head. And it as naturally inspires contempt or coldness towards those whom we suppose outcast form God. "O but," you say. "I suppose no particular man a reprobate." You mean you would not if you could help it: But you cannot help sometimes applying your general doctrine to particular persons: The enemy of souls will apply it for you. You know how often he has done so. But you rejected the thought with abhorrence. True; as soon as you could; but how did it sour and sharpen your spirit in the mean time! you well know it was not the spirit of love which you then felt towards that poor sinner, whom you supposed or suspected, whether you would or no, to have been hated of God from eternity.

13. Thirdly. This doctrine tends to destroy the comfort of religion, the happiness of Christianity. This is evident as to all those who believe themselves to be reprobated, or who only suspect or fear it. All the great and precious promises are lost to them; they afford them no ray of comfort: For they are not the elect of God; therefore they have neither lot nor portion in them. This is an effectual bar to their finding any comfort or happiness, even in that religion whose ways are designed to be "ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace."

14. And as to you who believe yourselves the elect of God, what is your happiness? I hoe, not a notion, a speculative belief, a bare opinion of any kind; but a feeling possession of God in your heart, wrought in you by the Holy Ghost, or, the witness of God's Spirit with your spirit that you are a child of God. This, otherwise termed "the full assurance of faith,: is the true ground of a Christian's happiness. And it does indeed imply a full assurance that all your past sins are forgiven, and that you are now a child of God. But it does not necessarily imply a full assurance of our future perseverance. I do not say this is never joined to it, but that it is not necessarily implied therein; for many have the one who have not the other.

15. Now, this witness of the Spirit experience shows to be much obstructed by this doctrine; and not only in those who, Believing themselves reprobated, by this belief thrust it far from them, but even in them that have tasted of that good gift, who yet have soon lost it again, and fallen back into doubts, and fears, and darkness, -- horrible darkness, that might be felt! And I appeal to any of you who hold this doctrine, to say, between God and your own hearts, whether you have not often a return of doubts and fears concerning your election or perseverance! If you ask, "Who has not?" I answer, Very few of those that hold this doctrine; but many, very many, of those that hold it not, in all parts of the earth; -- many of these have enjoyed the uninterrupted witness of his Spirit, the continual light of his countenance, from the moment wherein they first believed, for many months or years, to this day.

16. That assurance of faith which these enjoy excludes all doubt and fear, It excludes all kinds of doubt and fear concerning their future perseverance; though it is not properly, as was said before, an assurance of what is future, but only of what now is. And this needs not for its support a speculative belief, that whoever is once ordained to life must live; for it is wrought from hour to hour, by the mighty power of God, "by the Holy Ghost which is given unto them." And therefore that doctrine is not of God, because it tends to obstruct, if not destroy, this great work of the Holy Ghost, whence flows the chief comfort of religion, the happiness of Christianity.

17. Again: How uncomfortable a thought is this, that thousands and millions of men, without any preceding offense or fault of theirs, were unchangeably doomed to everlasting burnings! How peculiarly uncomfortable must it be to those who have put on Christ! to those who, being filled with bowels of mercy, tenderness, and compassion, could even "wish themselves accursed for their brethren's sake!"

18. Fourthly. This uncomfortable doctrine directly tends to destroy our zeal for good works. And this it does, First, as it naturally tends (according to what was observed before) to destroy our love to the greater part of mankind, namely, the evil and unthankful. For whatever lessens our love, must go far lessen our desire to do them good. This it does, Secondly, as it cuts off one of the strongest motives to all acts of bodily mercy, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and the like, -- viz., the hope of saving their souls from death. For what avails it to relieve their temporal wants, who are just dropping into eternal fire? "Well; but run and snatch them as brands out of the fire.: Nay, this you suppose impossible. They were appointed thereunto, you say, from eternity, before they had done either good or evil. you believe it is the will of God they should die. And "who hath resisted his will?" But you say you do not know whether these are elected or not. What then? If you know they are the one or the other, -- that they are either elected or not elected, -- all your labour is void and vain. In either case, your advice, reproof, or exhortation is as needless and useless as our preaching. It is needless to them that are elected; for they will infallibly be saved without it. It is useless to them that are not elected; for with or without it they will infallibly be damned; therefore you cannot consistently with your principles take any pains about their salvation. Consequently, those principles directly tend to destroy you zeal for good works; for all good works; but particularly for the greatest of all, the saving of souls from death.

19. But, Fifthly, this doctrine not only tends to destroy Christian holiness, happiness, and good works, but hath also a direct and manifest tendency to overthrow the whole Christian Revelation. The point which the wisest of the modern unbelievers most industriously labour to prove, is, that the Christian Revelation is not necessary. They well know, could they once show this, the conclusion would be too plain to be denied, "If it be not necessary, it is not true," Now, this fundamental point you give up. For supposing that eternal, unchangeable decree, one part of mankind must be saved, though the Christian Revelation were not in being, and the other part of mankind must be damned, notwithstanding that Revelation. And what would an infidel desire more? You allow him all he asks. In making the gospel thus unnecessary to all sorts of men, you give up the whole Christian cause. "O tell it not in Gath! lest the daughters of the uncircumcised rejoice; "lest the sons of unbelief triumph!

20. And as this doctrine manifestly and directly tends to overthrow the whole Christian Revelation, so it does the same thing, by plain consequence, in making that Revelation contradict itself. For it is grounded on such an interpretation of some texts (more or fewer it matters not) as flatly contradicts all the other texts, and indeed the whole scope and tenor of Scripture. For instance: The assertors of this doctrine interpret that text of Scripture, "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated," as implying that God in a literal sense hated Esau, and all the reprobated, from eternity. Now, what can possibly be a more flat contradiction than this, not only to the whole scope and tenor of Scripture, but also to all those particular texts which expressly declare, "God is love?" Again: They infer from that text, "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy," (Romans 4:15) that God is love only to some men, viz., the elect, and that he hath mercy for those only; flatly contrary to which is the whole tenor of Scripture, as is that express declaration in particular, "The Lord is loving unto every man; and his mercy is over all his works." (Psalm 145:9.) Again: They infer from that and the like texts, "It is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy,: that he showeth mercy only to those to whom he had respect from all eternity. Nay, but who replieth against God now? You now contradict the whole oracles of God, which declare throughout, "God is no respecter of persons:' (Acts 10:34) "There is no respect of persons with him." (Rom. 2:11.) Again: from that text, "The children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth; it was said unto her," unto Rebecca, "The elder shall serve the younger;"you infer, that our being predestinated, or elect, no way depends on the foreknowledge of God. Flatly contrary to this are all the scriptures; and those in particular, "Elect according to the foreknowledge of God;" (1 Peter 1:2; ) "Whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate." (Rom. 8:29.)

21. And "the same Lord over all is rich" in mercy "to all that call upon him:" (Romans 10:12:) But you say, "No; he is such only to those for whom Christ died. And those are not all, but only a few, whom God hath chosen out of the world; for he died not for all, but only for those who were chosen in him before the foundation of the world.'" (Eph. 1:4.) Flatly contrary to your interpretation of these scriptures, also, is the whole tenor of the New Testament; as are in particular those texts: -- "Destroy not him with thy meat, for whom Christ died," (Rom. 14:15, ) -- a clear proof that Christ died, not only for those that are saved, but also for them that perish: He is "the Saviour of the world;" (John 4:42; ) He is "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world;" (John 1:29; ) "He is the propitiation, not for our sins only, but also for the sins of the whole world;" (1 John 2:2; ) "He," the living God, "is the Savior of all men;" (1 Timothy 4:10; ) "He gave himself a ransom for all;" (1 Tim. 2:6; ) "He tasted death for every man." (Heb. 2:9.)

22. If you ask, "Why then are not all men saved?" the whole law and the testimony answer, First, Not because of any decree of God; not because it is his pleasure they should die; for, As I live, saith the Lord God," I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth." (Ezek. 18:3, 32.) Whatever be the cause of their perishing, it cannot be his will, if the oracles of God are true; for they declare, "He is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance;" (2 Pet. 3:9; ) "He willeth that all men should be saved." And they, Secondly, declare what is the cause why all men are not saved, namely, that they will not be saved: So our Lord expressly, "Ye will not come unto me that ye may have life." (John 5:40.) "The power of the Lord is present to heal" them, but they will not be healed. "They reject the counsel," the merciful counsel, "of God against themselves," as did their stiff-necked forefathers. And therefore are they without excuse; because God would save them, but they will not be saved: This is the condemnation, "How often would I have gathered you together, and ye would not!" (Matt. 23:37.)

23. Thus manifestly does this doctrine tend to overthrow the whole Christian Revelation, by making it contradict itself; by giving such an interpretation of some texts, as flatly contradicts all the other texts, and indeed the whole scope and tenor of Scripture; -- an abundant proof that it is not of God. But neither is this all: For, Seventhly, it is a doctrine full of blasphemy; of such blasphemy as I should dread to mention, but that the honour of our gracious God, and the cause of his truth, will not suffer me to be silent. In the cause of God, then, and from a sincere concern for the glory of his great name, I will mention a few of the horrible blasphemies contained in this horrible doctrine. But first, I must warn every one of you that hears, as ye will answer it at the great day, not to charge me (as some have done) with blaspheming, because I mention the blasphemy of others. And the more you are grieve with them that do thus blaspheme, see that ye "confirm your love towards them: the more, and that your heart's desire, and continual prayer to God, be, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do!"

24. This premised, let it be observed, that this doctrine represents our blessed Lord, "Jesus Christ the righteous," "the only begotten Son of the Father, full of grace and truth," as an hypocrite, a deceiver of the people, a man void of common sincerity. For it cannot be denied, that he everywhere speaks as if he was willing that all men should be saved. Therefore, to say he was not willing that all men should be saved, is to represent him as a mere hypocrite and dissembler. It cannot be denied that the gracious words which came out of his mouth are full of invitations to all sinners. To say, then, he did not intend to save all sinners, is to represent him as a gross deceiver of the people. You cannot deny that he says, "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden." If, then, you say he calls those that cannot come; those whom he knows to be unable to come; those whom he can make able to come, but will not; how is it possible to describe greater insincerity? You represent him as mocking his helpless creatures, by offering what he never intends to give. You describe him as saying on thing, and meaning another; as pretending the love which his had not. Him, in "whose mouth was no guile," you make full of deceit, void of common sincerity; -- then especially, when, drawing nigh the city, He wept over it, and said, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, -- and ye would not;" ethelesakai ouk ethelesate. Now, if you say, they would, but he would not, you represent him (which who could hear?) as weeping crocodiles' tears; weeping over the prey which himself had doomed to destruction!

25. Such blasphemy this, as one would think might make the ears of a Christian to tingle! But there is yet more behind; for just as it honours the Son, so doth this doctrine honour the Father. It destroys all his attributes at once: It overturns both his justice, mercy, and truth; yea, it represents the most holy God as worse than the devil, as both more false, more cruel, and more unjust. More false; because the devil, liar as he is, hath never said, "He willeth all men to be saved:" More unjust; because the devil cannot, if he would, be guilty of such injustice as you ascribe to God, when you say that God condemned millions of souls to everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels, for continuing in sin, which, for want of that grace he will not give them, they cannot avoid: And more cruel; because that unhappy spirit "seeketh rest and findeth none;" so that his own restless misery is a kind of temptation to him to tempt others. But God resteth in his high and holy place; so that to suppose him, of his own mere motion, of his pure will and pleasure, happy as he is, to doom his creatures, whether they will or no, to endless misery, is to impute such cruelty to him as we cannot impute even to the great enemy of God and man. It is to represent the high God (he that hath ears to hear let him hear!) as more cruel, false, and unjust than the devil!

26. This is the blasphemy clearly contained in the horrible decree of predestination! And here I fix my foot. On this I join issue with every assertor of it. You represent God as worse than the devil; more false, more cruel, more unjust. But you say you will prove it by scripture. Hold! What will you prove by Scripture? that God is worse than the devil? I cannot be. Whatever that Scripture proves, it never an prove this; whatever its true meaning be. This cannot be its true meaning. Do you ask, "What is its true meaning then?" If I say, "I know not," you have gained nothing; for there are many scriptures the true sense whereof neither you nor I shall know till death is swallowed up in victory. But this I know, better it were to say it had no sense, than to say it had such a sense as this. It cannot mean, whatever it mean besides, that the God of truth is a liar. Let it mean what it will it cannot mean that the Judge of all the world is unjust. No scripture can mean that God is not love, or that his mercy is not over all his works; that is, whatever it prove beside, no scripture can prove predestination.

27. This is the blasphemy for which (however I love the persons who assert it) I abhor the doctrine of predestination, a doctrine, upon the supposition of which, if one could possibly suppose it for a moment, (call it election, reprobation, or what you please, for all comes to the same thing,) one might say to our adversary, the devil, "Thou fool, why dost thou roar about any longer? Thy lying in wait for souls is as needless and useless as our preaching. Hearest thou not, that God hath taken thy work out of thy hands; and that he doeth it much more effectually? Thou, with all thy principalities and powers, canst only so assault that we may resist thee; but He can irresistibly destroy both body and soul in hell! Thou canst only entice; but his unchangeable decrees, to leave thousands of souls in death, compels them to continue in sin, till they drop into everlasting burnings. Thou temptest; He forceth us to be damned; for we cannot resist his will. Thou fool, why goest thou about any longer, seeking whom thou mayest devour? Hearest thou not that God is the devouring lion, the destroyer of souls, the murderer of men" Moloch caused only children to pass though the fire: and that fire was soon quenched; or, the corruptible body being consumed, its torment was at an end; but God, thou are told, by his eternal decree, fixed before they had done good or evil, causes, not only children of a span long, but the parents also, to pass through the fire of hell, the fire which never shall be quenched; and the body which is cast thereinto, being now incorruptible and immortal, will be ever consuming and never consumed, but the smoke of their torment,' because it is God's good pleasure, ascendeth up for ever and ever.'"

28. O how would the enemy of God and man rejoice to hear these things were so! How would he cry aloud and spare not! How would he lift up his voice and say, "To your tents, O Israel! Flee from the face of this God, or ye shall utterly perish! But whither will ye flee? Into heaven? He is there, Down to hell? He is there also. Ye cannot flee from an omnipresent, almighty tyrant. And whether ye flee or stay, I call heaven, his throne, and earth, his footstool, to witness against you, ye shall perish, ye shall die eternally. Sing, O hell, and rejoice, ye that are under the earth! For God, even the mighty God, hath spoken, and devoted to death thousands of souls, form the rising of the sun unto the going down thereof! Here, O death, is they sting! They shall not, cannot escape; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. Here, O grave is thy victory Nations yet unborn, or ever they have done good or evil are doomed never to see the light of life, but thou shalt gnaw upon them for ever and ever! Let all those morning stars sing together, who fell with Lucifer, son of the morning! Let all the sons of hell shout for joy! For the decree is past, and who shall disannul it?"

29. Yea, the decree is past; and so it was before the foundation of the world. But what decree? Even this: "I will set before the sons of men life and death, blessing cursing.' And the soul that chooseth life shall live, as the soul that chooseth death shall die." This decree whereby "whom God did foreknow, he did predestinate," was indeed from everlasting; this, whereby all who suffer Christ to make them alive are "elect according to the foreknowledge of God," now standeth fast, even as the moon, and as the faithful witnesses in heaven; and when heaven and earth shall pass away, yet this shall not pass away; for it is as unchangeable and eternal as is the being of God that gave it. This decree yields the strongest encouragement to abound in all good works and in all holiness; and it is a well-spring of joy, of happiness also, to our great and endless comfort. This is worthy of God; it is every way consistent with all the perfections of his nature. It gives us the noblest view both of his justice, mercy, and truth. To this agrees the whole scope of the Christian Revelation, as well as all the parts thereof. To this Moses and all the Prophets bear witness, and our blessed Lord and all his Apostles Thus Moses, in the name of his Lord: "I call heaven and earth to record against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that thou and thy seed may live." Thus Ezekiel: choose life, that thou and thy seed may live;"Thus Ezekiel: (To cite one Prophet for all:) "The soul that sinneth, it shall die: The son shall not bear" eternally, "the iniquity of the father. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him." (18:20.) Thus our blessed Lord: "If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." (John 7:37.) Thus his great Apostle, St. Paul: (Acts 17:30:) "God commandeth all men everywhere to repent; -- "all men everywhere;" every man in every place, without any exception either of place or person. Thus St. James: "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him." (James 1:5.) Thus St. Peter: (2 Pet. 3:9:) "The Lord is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." And thus St. John: "If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father; and he is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world." (1 John 2:1, 2.)

30. O hear ye this, ye that forget God! Ye cannot charge your death upon him! "Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die?' saith the Lord God." (Ezek. 18:23ff.) "Repent, and turn from all your transgressions; so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away from you all your transgressions where by ye have transgressed, -- for why will ye die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord God. Wherefore turn yourselves, and live ye." "As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked. -- Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?" (Ezekiel 33:11.)

[133] (text from the 1872 edition)

[134] Preached at Bristol, in the year 1740

Sermon 129: The Cause and Cure of Earthquakes

Sermon 129 [135]

The Cause and Cure of Earthquakes [136]

"O come hither, and behold the works of the Lord; what destruction he hath brought upon the earth!"

Ps. 46:8.

Of all the judgments which the righteous God inflicts on sinners here, the most dreadful and destructive is an earthquake. This he has lately brought on our part of the earth, and thereby alarmed our fears, and bid us "prepare to meet our God!" The shocks which have been felt in divers places, since that which made this city tremble, may convince us that the danger is not over, and ought to keep us still in awe; seeing "his anger is not turned away, but his band is stretched out still." (Isa. 10:4.)

That I may fall in with the design of Providence at this awful crisis, I shall take occasion from the words of my text,

I. To show that earthquakes are the works of the Lord, and He only bringeth this destruction upon the earth:

II. Call you to behold the works of the Lord, in two or three terrible instances: And,

III. Give you some directions suitable to the occasion.

I. I am to show you that earthquakes are the works of the Lord, and He only bringeth this destruction upon the earth. Now, that God is himself the Author, and sin the moral cause, of earthquakes, (whatever the natural cause may be,) cannot be denied by any who believe the Scriptures; for these are they which testify of Him, that it is God" which removeth the mountains, and overturneth them in his anger; which shaketh the earth out of her place, and the pillars thereof tremble." (Job 9:5, 6.) "He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth he toucheth the hills, and they smoke." (Ps. 104:32.) "The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth." (Ps. 97:5.) "The mountains quake at him, and the hills melt. Who can stand before his indignation, and who can abide in the fierceness of his anger? His fury is poured out like fire, and the rocks are thrown down by him." (Nahum 1:5, 6.)

Earthquakes are set forth by the inspired writers as God's proper judicial act, or the punishment of sin: Sin is the cause, earthquakes the effect, of his anger. So the Psalmist: "The earth trembled and quaked; the very foundations also of the hills shook, and were removed, because he was wroth" (Ps. 18:7.) So the Prophet Isaiah: "I will punish the world for their evil, -- and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible: -- Therefore I will shake the heavens, and the earth shalt remove out of her place, in the wrath of the Lord of host, and in the day of his fierce anger." (Isa. 13:11, 13.) And again. "Behold, the Lord maketh the earth empty; and maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down," (in the original, perverteth the face thereof,) "and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof. For the windows from on high are open, and the foundations of the earth do shake. The earth is utterly broken down, the earth is clean dissolved, the earth is moved exceedingly. The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, and shall be removed like a cottage; and the transgression thereof shall be heavy upon it; and it shall fall and not rise again." (Isa. 24:1, 18-20.) "Tremble, thou earth, at the presence of the God of Jacob." (Ps. 114:7.) "thou shalt be visited of the Lord of hosts with thunder, and with earthquake, and great noise." (Isa. 29:6.)

Nothing can be more express than these scripture testimonies, which determine both the cause and author of this terrible calamity. But reason, as well as faith, doth sufficiently assure us it must be the punishment of sin, and the effect of that curse which was brought upon the earth by the original transgression. Steadfastness must be no longer looked for in the world, since innocency is banished thence: But we cannot conceive that the universe would have been disturbed by these furious accidents during the state of original righteousness. Wherefore should God's anger have armed the elements against his faithful subjects? Wherefore should he have overthrown all his works to destroy innocent men? or why overwhelmed the inhabitants of the earth with the ruins thereof, if they had not been sinful? why buried those in the bowels of the earth who were not to die? Let us then conclude, both from Scripture and reason, that earthquakes are God's strange works of judgment -- the proper effect and punishment of sin. I proceed,

II. To set before you these works of the Lord in two or three terrible instances.

In the year 1692 there happened in Sicily one of the most dreadful earthquakes in all history. It shook the whole island and not only that, but Naples and Malta shared in the shock. It was impossible for any one to keep on their legs on the dancing earth: Nay, those who lay on the ground were tossed from side to side, as on a rolling billow. High walls leaped from their foundations several paces.

The mischief it did is amazing: Fifty-four cities and towns, besides an incredible number of villages, were almost entirely destroyed. Catania, one of the most famous, ancient, and flourishing cities in the kingdom, the residence of several monarchs, and an university, had the greatest share in the judgment. Father Anth. Serrvoita, being on his way thither, a few miles from the city observed a black cloud like night hovering over it; and there arose from the mouth of Etna great spires of flame, which spread all around. The sea, all on a sudden, began to roar, and rise in billows; the birds flew about astonished; the cattle ran crying in the fields; and there was a blow as if all the artillery in the world had been discharged at once!

His and his companions' horses stopped short, trembling; so that they were forced to alight. They were no sooner off; but they were lifted from the ground above two palms; when, casting his eyes towards Catania, he was astonished to see nothing but a thick cloud of dust in the air. This was the scene of their calamity; for of the magnificent Catania there is not the least footstep to be seen. Of eighteen thousand nine hundred and fourteen inhabitants, eighteen thousand perished therein: In the several cities and towns sixty thousand were destroyed out of two hundred and fifty-four thousand nine hundred!

In the same year, 1692, on June 7, was the earthquake in Jamaica. It threw down most of the houses, churches, sugar-works, mills, and bridges throughout the island; tore the rocks and mountains, reducing some of them to plains ; destroyed whole plantations, and threw them into the sea; and, in two minutes time, shook down and destroyed nine-tenths of the town of Port Royal; the houses sunk outright thirty or forty fathom deep!

The earth, opening, swallowed up people; and they rose in other streets; some in the midst of the harbour, (being driven up again by the sea which rose in those breaches,) and so wonderfully escaped.

Of all wells, from one fathom to six or seven, the water flew out of the top with a vehement motion. While the houses on one side of the street were swallowed up, on the other they were thrown into heaps. The sand in the street rose like waves of the sea, lifting up every body that stood on it, and immediately dropping down into pits; and at the same instant, a flood of water, breaking in, rolled them over and over, while catching hold of beams and rafters to save themselves.

Ships and sloops in the harbour were overset and lost. A vessel, by the motion if the sea and sinking of the wharf, was driven over the tops of many houses, and sunk there.

The earthquake was attended with a hollow rumbling sound, like that of thunder. In less than a minute, three quarters of the houses, and the ground they stood on, with the inhabitants, were quite sunk under water, and the little part left behind was no better than a heap of rubbish!

The shock was so violent that it threw people down on their knees or their faces, as they were running about for shelter; the ground heaved and swelled like a rolling sea; and several houses, still standing were shuffled and moved some yards out of their places; a whole street is said to be twice as broad now as before.

In many places the earth would crack, and open and shut quick and fast, of which openings, two or three hundred might be seen at a time; in some whereof the people were swallowed up; others the closing earth caught by the middle, and squeezed to death; and in that manner they were left buried with only their heads above ground; some heads the dogs ate!

The Minister of the place, in his account, saith, that such was the desperate wickedness of the people, that he was afraid to continue among them; that on the day of the earthquake some sailors and others fell to breaking open and rifling warehouses, and houses deserted, while the earth trembled under them, and the houses fell upon them in the act; that he met many swearing and blaspheming; and that the common harlots, who remained still upon the place, were as drunken and impudent as ever.

While he was running towards the Fort, a wide open place, to save himself, he saw the earth open and swallow up a multitude of people; and the sea mounting in upon them over the fortifications, it likewise destroyed their large burying-place, and washed away the carcases out of their graves, dashing their tombs to pieces. The whole harbour was covered with dead bodies, floating up and down without burial!

As soon as the violent shock was over, he desired all people to join with him in prayer. Among them were several Jews, who kneeled and answered as they did, and were heard even to call upon Jesus Christ. After he had spent an hour and an half with them in prayer, and exhortations to repentance, he was desired to retire to some ship in the harbour, and, passing over the tops of some houses which lay level with) the water, got first into a canoe, and then into a long-boat, which put him on board a ship.

The larger openings swallowed up houses; and out of some would issue whole rivers of water, spouted up a great height into the air, and threatening a deluge to that part which the earthquake spared. The whole was attended with offensive smells, and the noise of falling mountains. The sky in a minutes time was turned dull and red, like a glowing oven. Scarce a planting-house or sugar-work was left standing in all Jamaica. A great part of them was swallowed up, houses, trees, people, and all at one gape; in the place of which afterwards appeared great pools of water, which, when dried up, left nothing but sand, without any mark that ever tree or plant had been thereon.

About twelve miles from the sea, the earth gaped, and spouted out, with a prodigious force, vast quantities of water into the air. But the greatest violence was among the mountains and rocks. Most of the rivers were stopped for twenty-four hours, by the falling of the mountains; till, swelling up, they made themselves new channels, tearing up trees, and all they met with, in their passage.

A great mountain split, and fell into the level ground, and covered several settlements, and destroyed the people there. Another mountain, having made several leaps or moves, overwhelmed [a] great part of a plantation lying a mile off. Another large high mountain, near a day's journey over, was quite swallowed up, and where it stood is now a great lake some leagues over.

After the great shake, those who escaped got on board ships in the harbour, where many continued above two months; the shakes all that time being so violent, and coming so thick, sometimes two or three in an hour, accompanied with frightful noises, like a ruffling wind, or a hollow rumbling thunder, with brimstone blasts, that they durst not come ashore. The consequence of the earthquake was, a general sickness from the noisome vapours, which swept away above three thousand persons.

On the 28th of October, 1746, half an hour past ten at night, Lima, the capital city of Peru, was destroyed by an earthquake, which extended an hundred leagues northward and as many more to the south, all along the sea-coast. The destruction did not so much as give time for fright; for, at one and the same instant, the noise, the shock, and the ruin were perceived. In the space of four minutes, during which the greatest force of the earthquake lasted, some found themselves buried under the ruins of the falling houses; and others crushed to death in the streets by the tumbling of the walls, which fell upon them as they ran here and there.

Nevertheless, the greater part of the inhabitants (who were computed near sixty thousand) were providentially preserved, either in the hollow places which the ruins left, or on the top of the very ruins themselves, without knowing how they got up thither. For no person, at such a season, had time for deliberation; and supposing he had, there was no place of retreat: For the parts which seemed most firm sometimes proved the weakest; on the contrary the weakest, at intervals, made the greatest resistance; and the consternation was such, that no one thought himself secure, till he had made his escape out of the city.

The earth struck against the buildings with such violence, that every shock beat down the greatest part of them; and these, tearing along with them vast weights in their fall, (especially the churches and high houses,) completed the destruction of everything they encountered with, even of what the earth-quake had spared. The shocks, although instantaneous, were yet successive; and at intervals men were transported from one place to another, which was the means of safety to some, while the utter impossibility of moving preserved others.

There were seventy-four churches, besides chapels, and fourteen monasteries, with as many more hospitals and infirmaries, which were in all instant reduced to a ruinous heap, and their immense riches buried in the earth! But though scarce twenty houses were left standing, yet it does not appear that the number of the dead amounted to much more than one thousand one hundred and forty-one persons; seventy of whom were patients in an hospital, who were buried by the roof falling upon them as they lay in their beds, no person being able to give them any assistance.

Callao, a sea-port town, two leagues distant from Lima, was swallowed up by, the sea in the same earthquake. It vanished out of sight in a moment; so that not the least sight of it now appears.

Some few towers, indeed, and the strength of its walls, for a time, endured the whole force of the earthquake: But scarcely had its poor inhabitants begun to recover their first fright which the dreadful ruin had occasioned, when, suddenly, the sea began to swell, and, rising to a prodigious height, rushed furiously forward, and overflowed, with so vast a deluge of water, its ancient bounds, that, foundering most of the ships which were at anchor in the port, and lifting the rest above the height of the walls and towers, it drove them on and left them on dry ground far beyond the town. At the same time, it tore up from the foundations everything therein of houses and buildings, excepting the two gates, and here and there some small fragments of the walls themselves, which, as registers of the calamity, are still to be seen among the ruins and the waters, -- a dreadful monument of what they were!

In this raging flood were drowned all the inhabitants of the place, about five thousand persons. Such as could lay hold on any pieces of timber, floated about for a considerable time; but those fragments, for want of room, were continually striking against each other, and so beat off those who had clung to them.

About two hundred, mostly fishermen and sailors, saved themselves. They declared that the waves in their retreat surrounded the whole town, without leaving any means for preservation; ad that, in the intervals, when the violence of the inundation was a little abated, they heard the most mournful cries and shrieks of those who perished. Those, likewise, who were on board the ships, which, by the elevation of the sea, were carried quite over the town, had the opportunity of escaping. Of twenty-three ships in the port at the time of the earthquake, four were stranded, and all the rest foundered. The few persons who saved themselves upon planks were several times driven about as far as the island of St. Lawrence, more than two leagues from the fort. At last some of them were cast upon the sea-shore, others upon the island, and so were preserved.

In these instances we may behold and see the works of the Lord, and how "terrible he is in his doings toward the children of me." (Ps. 66:5.) Indeed, nothing can be so affecting as this judgment of earthquakes when it comes unexpectedly as a thief in the night; -- "when hell enlarges herself, and open her mouth without measure; and their glory, and their multitude, and their pomp, and he that rejoiceth, descent into it;" (Isa. 5:14; ) -- when there is no time to flee, or method to escape, or possibility to resist; -- when no sanctuary or refuge remains; no shelter is to be found in the highest towers or lowest caverns; -- when the earth opens on a sudden, and becomes the grave of whole families, streets, and cities; and effects this in less time than you are able to tell the story of it; either sending out a flood of waters to drown, or vomiting out flames of fire to consume them, or closing again upon them, that they die by suffocation or famine, if not by the ruins of their own dwelling; -- when parents and children, husbands and wives, masters and servants, magistrates, Ministers, and people, without distinction, in the midst of health, and peace, and business, are buried in a common ruin, and pass all together into the eternal world: and there is only the difference of a few hours or minutes between a famous city and none at all!

Now, if war be a terrible evil, how much more an earthquake, which, in the midst of peace, brings a worse evil than the extremity of war! If a raging pestilence be dreadful, which sweeps away thousands in a day, and ten thousands in a night; if a consuming fire be an amazing judgment; how much more astonishing is this, whereby houses, and inhabitants, towns, and cities, and countries, are all destroyed at one stroke in a few minutes! Death is the only presage of such a judgment, without giving leisure to prepare for another world, or opportunity to look for any shelter in this.

For a man to feel the earth, which hangeth upon nothing, (but as some vast ball in the midst of a thin yielding air,) totter under him, must fill him with secret fright and confusion. History informs us of the fearful effects of earthquakes in all ages; where you may see rocks torn in pieces; mountains not cast down only, but removed; hills raised, not out of valleys only, but out of seas; fires breaking out of waters; stones and cinders belched up; rivers changed; seas dislodged; earth opening; towns swallowed up; and many such-like hideous events!

Of all divine animadversions, there is none more horrid, more inevitable, than this. For where can we think to escape danger, if the most solid thing in all the world shakes? If that which sustains all other things threaten us with sinking under our feet, what sanctuary shall we find from an evil that encompasses us about? And whither can we withdraw, if the gulfs which open themselves shut up our passages on every side?

With what horror are men struck when they hear the earth groan; when her trembling succeeds her complaints; when houses are loosened from their foundations; when the roofs fall upon their heads, and the pavement sinks under their feet! What hope, when fear cannot he fenced by flight! In other evils there is some way to escape; but an earthquake incloses what it overthrows, and wages war with whole provinces; and sometimes leaves nothing behind it to inform posterity of its outrages. More insolent than fire, which spares rocks; more cruel than the conqueror, who leaves walls; more greedy than the sea, which vomits up shipwrecks; it swallows and devours whatsoever it overturns. The sea itself is subject to its empire, and the most dangerous storms are those occasioned by earthquakes.

I come, in the Third and last place, to give you some directions suitable to the occasion. And this is the more needful, because ye know not how soon the late earthquake, wherewith God hath visited us, may return, or whether He may not enlarge as well as repeat its commission. Once, yea, twice, hath the Lord warned us, that he is arisen to shake terribly the earth. Wherefore, 1. Fear God, even that God can in a moment cast both body and soul into hell! "Enter into the rock, and hide thee in the dust, for fear of the Lord, and for the glory of his majesty." (Isa. 1:10.) Ought we not all to cry out, "Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty! Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name? for thy judgments are made manifest!" (Rev. 15:3, 4.)

God speaks to your hearts, as in subterranean thunder, "The Lord's voice crieth unto the city, -- Hear the rod, and who hath appointed it." (Mic. 6:9.) He commands you to take notice of his power and justice. "Come and see!" (Rev. 6:5, ) while a fresh seal is opening; yea, "come and see the works of God; his is terrible in his doings towards the children of men." (Ps. 66:5.)

When he makes the mountains tremble, and the earth shake, shall not our hearts be moved? "Fear ye not me? saith the Lord; and will ye not tremble at my presence?" (Jer. 5:22.) Will ye not fear me, who can open the windows of heaven above, or break up the fountains of the deep below, and pour forth whole floods of vengeance when I please? -- who can "rain upon the wicked snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest;" (Ps. 11:6; ) or kindle those streams and exhalations in the bowels and caverns of the earth, and make them force their way to the destruction of towns, cities, and countries? who can thus suddenly turn a fruitful land into a barren wilderness; an amazing spectacle of desolation and ruin?

"Shall a trumpet be blown in the city, and the people not be afraid? Shall there be evil in a city, and the Lord hath not done it." "The lion hath roared; who will not fear? With God is terrible majesty; men do therefore fear him." Some do; and all ought. O that his fear might this moment fall upon all you who hear these words; constraining every one of you to cry out, "My flesh trembleth for fear of thee; and I am afraid of thy judgments!" (Ps. 109:10.) O that all might see, now His hand is lifted up, as in act to strike; is stretched out still; and shakes his rod over a guilty land, a people fitted for destruction! For is not this the nation to be visited? And "shall not I wait for these things? saith the Lord; and shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?" (Jer. 5:9.) What but national repentance can prevent national destruction?

"O consider this, ye that forget God, lest he pluck you away, and there be none to deliver you!" (Ps. 50:22.) That iniquity may not be your ruin, repent! This is the Second advice I would offer you; or, rather, the First enforced upon you farther, and explained. Fear God, and depart from evil; repent, and bring forth fruits meet for repentance; break off our sins this moment. "Wash ye, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well," saith the Lord. (Isa. :16, 17.)

"Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." (Luke 13:3.) "Therefore now, saith the Lord," who is not willing any should perish, "turn ye unto me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God; for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil. Who knoweth if he will return and repent, and leave a blessing behind him?" (Joel 2:12-14.)

"Who knoweth?" A question which should make you tremble. God is weighing you in the balance, and, as it were, considering whether to save or to destroy! "Say unto the children of Israel, Ye are a stiff-necked people: I will come up into the midst of thee in a moment, and consume thee; therefore now put off thy ornaments from thee, that I may know what to do unto thee." (Exod. 33:5.)

God waits to see what effect his warnings will have upon you. He pauses on the point of executing judgment, and cries, "How shall I give thee up?" (Hos. 11:8) Or, "Why should ye be stricken any more?" (Isa. 1:5.) He hath no pleasure in the death of him that dieth. He would not bring to pass his strange act, unless your obstinate impenitence compel him.

"Why will you die, O house of Israel?" (Ezek. 18:31.) God warns you of the approaching judgment, that ye may take warning, and escape it by timely repentance. He lifts up his hand, and shakes it over you, that ye may see it, and prevent the stroke. He tells you, "Now is the axe laid unto the root of the trees:" (Matt. 3:10:) Therefore repent; bring forth good fruit; and ye shall not be hewn down, and cast into the fire. O do not despise the riches of his mercy, but let it lead you to repentance! "Account that the longsuffering of the Lord is salvation." (2 Pet. 3:15.) Harden not your hearts, but turn to Him that smites you; or, rather, threatens to smite, that ye may turn and be spared!

How slow is the Lord to anger! how unwilling to punish! By what leisurely steps does he come to take vengeance! How many lighter afflictions before the final blow!

Should he beckon the man on the red horse to return, and say, "Sword, go through this land;" can we complain he gave us no warning? Did not the sword first bereave abroad; and did we not then see it within our borders? Yet the merciful God said, "Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further;" he stopped the invaders in the midst of our land, and turned them back again, and destroyed them.

Should he send the man on the pale horse, whose name is Death, and the pestilence destroy thousands and ten thousands of us; can we deny that first he warned us by the raging mortality among our cattle?

So, if we provoke him to lay waste our earth, and turn it upside down, and overthrow us, as he overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah; shall we not have procured this unto ourselves? Had we no reason to expect any such calamity; no previous notice; no trembling of the earth before it clave; no shock before it opened its mouth? Did he set no examples of so terrible a judgment before our eyes? Had we never heard of the destruction of Jamaica, or Catania, or that of Lima, which happened but yesterday? If we perish at last, we perish without excuse; for what could have been done more to save us?

Yes; thou hast now another call to repentance, another offer of mercy, whosoever thou art that hearest these words. In the name of the Lord Jesus, I warn thee once more, as a watchman over the house of Israel, to flee from the wrath to come! I put thee in remembrance (if thou hast so soon forgotten it) of the late awful judgment, whereby God shook thee over the mouth of hell! Thy body he probably awoke by it; but did he awake thy soul? The Lord was in the earthquake, and put a solemn question to thy conscience: "Art thou ready to die?" "Is thy peace made with God?" Was the earth just now to open its mouth, and swallow thee up, what would become of thee? Where wouldest thou be? in Abraham's bosom, or lifting up thine eyes in torment? Hadst thou perished by the late earthquake, wouldest thou not have died in thy sins, or rather gone down quick into hell? Who prevented thy damnation? it was the Son of God! O fall down, and worship him! Give Him the glory of thy deliverance; and devote the residue of thy days to his service!

This is the Third advice I would give you: Repent and believe the gospel. Believe on the Lord Jesus, and ye shall yet be saved. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish. Repentance alone will profit you nothing; neither do ye repent, unless ye confess with broken hearts the most damnable of all your sins, your unbelief; your having rejected, or not accepted, Jesus Christ as your only Saviour. Neither can ye repent unless he himself gives the power; unless his Spirit convince you of sin, because ye believe not in Him.

Till ye repent of your unbelief, all your good desires and promises are vain, and will pass away as a morning cloud. The vows which ye make in a time of trouble, ye will forget and break as soon as the trouble is over and the danger past.

But shall ye escape for your wickedness, suppose the earthquake should not return? God will never want ways and means to punish impenitent sinners. He hath a thousand other judgments in reserve; and if the earth should not open its mouth, yet ye shall surely at last be swallowed up in the bottomless pit of hell!

Wouldest thou yet escape that eternal death? Then receive the sentence of death in thyself, thou miserable self-destroyed sinner! Know thy want of living, saving, divine faith! Groan under thy burden of unbelief, and refuse to be comforted till thou hear Him of his own mouth say, "Be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee."

I cannot take it for granted, that all men have faith; or speak to the sinners of this land as to believers in Jesus Christ. For where are the fruits of faith? Faith worketh by love; faith overcometh the world; faith purifieth the heart; faith, in the smallest measure, removeth mountains. If thou canst believe, all things are possible to thee. If thou art justified by faith, thou hast peace with God, and rejoicest in hope of his glorious appearing.

He that believeth hath the witness in himself; hath the earnest of heaven in his heart; hath love stronger than death. Death to a believer has lost its sting; "therefore will he not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea." (Ps. 46:2.) For he knows in whom he has believed; and that "neither life nor death shall be able to separate him from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus his Lord."

Dost thou so believe? Prove thy own self by the infallible word of God. If thou hast not the fruits, effects, or inseparable properties of faith, thou hast not faith. Come, then, to the Author and Finisher of faith, confessing thy sins, and the root of all -- thy unbelief, till he forgive thee thy sins, and cleanse thee from all unrighteousness. Come to the Friend of sinners, weary and heavy laden, and he will give thee pardon! Cast thy poor desperate soul on his dying love! Enter into the rock, the ark, the city of refuge! Ask, and thou shalt receive faith and forgiveness together. He waited to be gracious. He hath spared thee for this very thing; that thine eyes might see his salvation. Whatever judgments come in these latter days, yet whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord Jesus hall be delivered.

Call upon Him now, O sinner! and continue instant in prayer, till he answer thee in peace and power! Wrestle for the blessing! Thy life, thy soul, is at stake! Cry mightily unto Him, -- "Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on me "God he merciful unto me a sinner!" Lord, help me! Help my unbelief! Save, or I perish! Sprinkle my troubled heart! Wash me throughly in the fountain of thy blood; guide me by thy Spirit; sanctify me throughout, and receive me up into glory!

"Now to God the Father..."

[135] [text from the 1872 edition]

[136] [First published in the year 1750.]

Sermon 130: National Sins and Miseries

Sermon 130 [137]

National Sins and Miseries [138]

"Lo, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly: But these sheep, what have they done?"

2 Sam. 24:17.

1. The chapter begins, "And again the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah." "Again;" -- it had been kindled against them but a few years before; in consequence of which "there had been a famine in the land three years, year after year," (2 Sam. 21:1, ) till David inquired of the Lord, and was taught the way of appeasing it. We are not informed, in what particular manner Israel had now offended God; by what particular cause his anger was kindled, but barely with the effect. "He moved David against them to say, Go, number Israel and Judah." "He," -- not God! Beware how you impute this to the fountain of love and holiness! It was not God, but Satan, who thus moved David. So the parallel Scripture expressly declares: "And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel." (1 Chron. 21:1.) Satan stood before God, to accuse David and Israel, and to beg God's permission to tempt David. Standing is properly the accuser's posture before the tribunals of men; and therefore the Scripture, which uses to speak of the things of God after the manner of men, represents Satan as appearing in this posture before the tribunal of God. "And David said to Joab, and to the rulers of the people, Go, number Israel, from Beersheba even to Dan; and bring the number of them to me, that I may know it." (2 Sam. 23:2.)

2. It does not clearly appear wherein the sin of thus numbering the people consisted. There is no express prohibition of it in any of the Scriptures which were then extant. Yet we read, "The king's word was abominable to Joab," (2 Sam. 23:6, ) who was not a man of the tenderest conscience, so that he expostulated with David before he obeyed. "Joab answered, Why doth my lord require this thing?" "Why will he be a cause of trespass" -- of punishment or calamity, -- "to Israel?" God frequently punishes a people for the sins of their rulers, because they are generally partakers of their sins, in one kind or other. And the righteous Judge takes this occasion of punishing them for all their sins. In this, Joab was right; for after they were numbered, it is said, "And God was displeased with this thing." Yea, "David's heart smote him, and he said unto the Lord, I have sinned greatly in that I have done: and now, I beseech thee, O Lord, take away the iniquity of thy servant." (2 Sam. 24:10). Did not the sin lie in the motive on which the thing was done? Did he not do it in the pride of his heart? Probably out of a principle of vanity and ostentation; glorying not in God, but in the number of his people.

3. In the sequel we find that even Joab was for once a true prophet: David was a cause of trespass, of punishment, to Israel. His sin, added to all the sins of the people, filled up the measure of their iniquities. So "the Lord sent a pestilence upon Israel, from the morning," wherein Gad the prophet gave David his choice of war, famine, or pestilence, "unto the evening of the third day. And there died of the people from Dan unto Beersheba, seventy thousand men." (2 Sam. 24:15.) "And when David saw the angel that smote the people," -- who appeared in the form of a man with a drawn sword in his hand, to convince him the more fully, that this plague was immediately from God, -- "he said, Lo, I have sinned, I have done wickedly: but these sheep, what have they done?"

4. Is there not in several respects, a remarkable resemblance between the case of Israel and our own? General wickedness then occasioned a general visitation; and does not the same cause now produce the same effect? We likewise have sinned, and we are punished; and perhaps these are only the beginning of sorrows. Perhaps the angel is now stretching out his hand over England to destroy it. O that the Lord would at length say to him that destroyeth, "It is enough; stay now thine hand!"

5. That vice is the parent of misery, few deny; it is confirmed by the general suffrage of all ages. But we seldom bring this home to ourselves; when we speak of sin as the cause of misery, we usually mean, the sin of other people, and suppose we suffer, because they sin. But need we go so far? Are not our own vices sufficient to account for all our sufferings? Let us fairly and impartially consider this; let us examine our own hearts and lives. We all suffer: and we have all sinned. But will it not be most profitable for us, to consider every one his own sins, as bringing sufferings both on himself and others; to say, "Lo, I have sinned, I have done wickedly; but these sheep, what have they done?"

I. 1. Let us inquire, First, what they suffer; and, afterwards, What is the cause of these sufferings? That the people suffer, none can deny; -- that they are afflicted in a more than ordinary manner. Thousands and tens of thousands are at this day deeply afflicted through want of business. It is true that this want is in some measure removed in some large and opulent towns. But it is also true, that this is far, very far, from being the general case of the kingdom. Nothing is more sure than that thousands of people in the west of England, throughout Cornwall in particular, in the north, and even in the midland counties, are totally unemployed. Hence those who formerly wanted nothing, are now in want of all things. They are so far from the plenty they once enjoyed that they are in the most deplorable distress, deprived not only of the conveniences, but most of the necessaries of life. I have seen not a few of these wretched creatures, within little more than an hundred miles of London, standing in the streets with pale looks, hollow eyes, and meager limbs; or creeping up and down like walking shadows. I have known families, who a few years ago lived in an easy, genteel manner, reduced to just as much raiment as they had on, and as much food as they could gather in the field. To this one or other of them repaired once a day, to pick up the turnips which the cattle had left; which they boiled, if they could get a few sticks, or otherwise ate them raw. Such is the want of food to which many of our countrymen are at this day reduced by want of business!

2. Grievous enough is this calamity, which multitudes every day suffer. But I do not know whether many more do not labour under a still more grievous calamity. It is a great affliction to be deprived of bread; but it is a still greater to be deprived of our senses. And this is the case with thousands upon thousands of our countrymen at this day. Wide-spread poverty (though not in so high a degree) I have seen several years ago. But so widespread a lunacy I never saw, nor, I believe the oldest man alive. Thousands of plain, honest people throughout the land are driven utterly out of their senses, by means of the poison which is so diligently spread through every city and town in the kingdom. They are screaming out for liberty while they have it in their hands, while they actually possess it; and to so great an extent, that the like is not known in any other nation under heaven; whether we mean civil liberty, a liberty of enjoying all our legal property, -- or religious liberty, a liberty of worshipping God according to the dictates of our own conscience. Therefore all those who are either passionately or dolefully crying out, "Bondage! Slavery!" while there is no more danger of any such thing, than there is of the sky falling upon their head, are utterly distracted; their reason is gone; their intellects are quite confounded. Indeed, many of these have lately recovered their senses; yet are there multitudes still remaining, who are in this respect as perfectly mad as any of the inhabitants of Bedlam.

3. Let not anyone think, this is but a small calamity which has fallen upon our land. If you saw, as I have seen, in every county, city, town, men who were once of a calm, mild, friendly temper, mad with party-zeal, foaming with rage against their quiet neighbours, ready to tear out one another's throats, and to plunge their swords into each other's bowels; if you had heard men who once feared God and honoured the king, now breathing out the bitterest invectives against him, and just ripe, should any occasion offer, for treason and rebellion; you would not then judge this to be a little evil, a matter of small moment, but one of the heaviest judgments which God can permit to fall upon a guilty land.

4. Such is the condition of Englishmen at home. And is it any better abroad? I fear not. From those who are now upon the spot, I learn that in our colonies also many are causing the people to drink largely of the same deadly wine; thousands of whom are thereby inflamed more and more, till their heads are utterly turned, and they are mad to all intents and purposes. Reason is lost in rage; its small still voice is drowned by popular clamour. Wisdom is fallen in the streets. And where is the place of understanding? It is hardly to be found in these provinces. Here is slavery, real slavery indeed, most properly so called. For the regular, legal, constitutional form of government is no more. Here is real, not imaginary, bondage: Not the shadow of English liberty is left. Not only no liberty of the press is allowed, -- none dare print a page, or a line, unless it be exactly conformable to the sentiments of our lords, the people, -- but no liberty of speech. Their tongue is not their own. None must dare to utter one word, either in favour of King George, or in disfavour of the idol they have set up, -- the new, illegal, unconstitutional government, utterly unknown to us and to our forefathers. Here is no religious liberty; no liberty of conscience for them that "honour the king," and whom, consequently, a sense of duty prompts them to defend from the vile calumnies continually vented against him. Here is no civil liberty; no enjoying the fruit of their labour, any further than the populace pleases. A man has no security for his trade, his house, his property, unless he will swim with the stream. Nay, he has no security for his life, if his popular neighbour has a mind to cut his throat: For there is no law; and no legal magistrate to take cognizance of offences. There is the gulf of tyranny, -- of arbitrary power on one hand, and of anarchy on the other. And, as if all this were not misery enough, see likewise the fell monster, war! But who can describe the complicated misery which is contained in this? Hark! the cannons roar! A pitchy cloud covers the face of the sky. Noise, confusion, terror, reign over all! Dying groans are on every side. The bodies of men are pierced, torn, hewed in pieces; their blood is poured on the earth like water! Their souls take their flight into the eternal world; perhaps into everlasting misery. The ministers of grace turn away from the horrid scene; the ministers of vengeance triumph. Such already has been the face of things in that once happy land where peace and plenty, even while banished from great part of Europe, smiled for near an hundred years.

5. And what is it which drags on these poor victims into the field of blood? It is a great phantom, which stalks before them, which they are taught to call, liberty! It is this

Which breathes into their hearts stern love of war,

And thirst of vengeance, and contempt of death.

Real liberty, meantime, is trampled underfoot, and is lost in anarchy and confusion.

6. But which of these warriors all the while considered the wife of his youth, that is now left a disconsolate widow, -- perhaps with none that careth for her; perhaps deprived of her only comfort and support, and not having where to lay her head? Who considered his helpless children, now desolate orphans, -- it may be, crying for bread, while their mother has nothing left to give them but her sorrows and her tears?

II. 1. And yet "these sheep, what have they done," although all this is come upon them? "Suppose ye that they are sinners above other men, because they suffer such things? I tell you, Nay; but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." It therefore behoves us to consider our own sins; -- the cause of all our sufferings. It behoves each of us to say, "Lo, I have sinned; I have done wickedly."

2. The time would fail, should I attempt to enumerate all the ways wherein we have sinned; but in general, this is certain: --

The rich, the poor, the high, the low,

Have wander'd from his mild command;

The floods of wickedness o'erflow,

And deluge all the guilty land:

People and Priest lie drown'd in sin,

And Tophet yawns to take them in.

How innumerable are the violations of justice among us! Who does not adopt the old maxim, Si possis, recte; si non, quocunque modo rem: "If you can get money honestly, do; but, however, get money?"

Where is mercy to be found, if it would stand in opposition to interest? How few will scruple, for a valuable consideration, to oppress the widow or fatherless? And where shall we find truth? Deceit and fraud go not out of our streets. Who is it that speaks the truth from his heart? Whose words are the picture of his thoughts? Where is he that has "put away all lying," that never speaks what he does not mean? Who is ashamed of this? Indeed it was once said, and even by a statesman, "All other vices have had their patrons; but lying is so base, so abominable a vice, that never was anyone found yet who dared openly to plead for it." Would one imagine this writer lived in a Court? yea, and that in the present century? Did not he himself, then, as well as all his brother-statesmen, plead for a trade of deliberate lying? Did he not plead for the innocence, yea, and the necessity, of employing spies? -- the vilest race of liars under the sun? Yet who ever scrupled using them, but Lord Clarendon?

3. O truth, whither art thou fled? How few have any acquaintance with thee! Do not we continually tell lies for the nonce, without gaining thereby either profit or pleasure? Is not even our common language replete with falsehood? Above a hundred years ago the poet complained,

It never was good day

Since lowly fawning was called compliment.

What would he have said had he lived a century later, when that art was brought to perfection?

4. Perhaps there is one palpable evidence of this which is not usually attended to. If you blame a man in many other respects, he is not much affronted. But if you say he is a liar, he will not bear it; he takes fire at once. Why is this? Because a man can bear to be blamed when he is conscious of his own innocence. But if you say he is a liar, you touch a sore spot: he is guilty, and therefore cannot bear it.

5. Is there a character more despicable than even that of a liar? Perhaps there is; even that of an epicure. And are we not a generation of epicures? Is not our belly our god? Are not eating and drinking our chief delight, our highest happiness? Is it not the main study (I fear, the only study) of many honourable men to enlarge the pleasure of tasting? When was luxury (not in food only, but in dress, furniture, equipage) carried to such an height in Great Britain ever since it was a nation? We have lately extended the British empire almost over the globe. We have carried our laurels into Africa, into Asia, into the burning and the frozen climes of America. And what have we brought thence? All the elegance of vice which either the eastern or western world could afford.

6. Luxury is constantly the parent of sloth. Every glutton will, in due time, be a drone. The more of meat and drink he devours, the less taste will he have for labour. This degeneracy of the Britons from their temperate, active forefathers, was taken notice of in the last century. But if Mr. Herbert then said,

O England, full of sin, but most of sloth!

what would he have said now? Observe the difference between the last and the present century, only in a single instance: In the last, the Parliament used to meet hora quinta, ante meridiem, "at five in the morning!" Could these Britons look out of their graves, what would they think of the present generation?

7. Permit me to touch on one article more, wherein, indeed, we excel all the nations upon earth. Not one nation under the canopy of heaven can vie with the English in profaneness. Such a total neglect, such an utter contempt of God, is nowhere else to be found. In no other streets, except in Ireland, can you hear on every side,

The horrid oath, the direful curse,

That latest weapon of the wretch's war,

And blasphemy, sad comrade of despair!

8. Now let each of us lay his hand upon his heart and say, "Lord, is it I?' Have I added to this flood of unrighteousness and ungodliness, and thereby to the misery of my countrymen? Am not I guilty in any of the preceding respects? And do not they suffer because I have sinned?" If we have any tenderness of heart, any bowels of mercies, any sympathy with the afflicted, let us pursue this thought till we are deeply sensible of our sins, as one great cause of their sufferings.

9. But now the plague is begun, and has already made such ravages both in England and America, what can we do, in order that it may be stayed? How shall we stand "between the living and the dead?" Is there any better way to turn aside the anger of God, than that prescribed by St. James: "Purge your hands, ye sinners, and purify your hearts, ye double-minded?" First. "Purge your hands." Immediately put away the evil of your doings. Instantly flee from sin, from every evil word and work, as from the face of a serpent. "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth;" no uncharitable, no unprofitable, conversation. Let no guile be found in your mouth: Speak to every man the truth from your heart. Renounce every way of acting, however gainful, which is contrary either to justice or mercy. Do to everyone as, in parallel circumstances, you would wish he should do unto you. Be sober, temperate, active; and in every word and work, labour to have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man. Next, through the almighty grace of Him that loved you, and gave himself for you, "purify your hearts by faith." Be no longer double-minded, halting between earth and heaven, striving to serve God and mammon. Purify your hearts from pride, -- humbling yourselves under the mighty hand of God; from all party-zeal, anger, resentment, bitterness, which now, especially, will easily beset you; from all prejudice, bigotry, narrowness of spirit; from impetuosity, and impatience of contradiction; from love of dispute, and from every degree of an unmerciful or implacable temper. Instead of this earthly, devilish wisdom, let "the wisdom from above" sink deep into your hearts; that "wisdom" which "is first pure," then "peaceable, easy to be entreated," -- convinced, persuaded, or appeased, -- "full of mercy and good fruits; without partiality," -- embracing all men; "without hypocrisy," genuine and unfeigned. Now, if ever, "putting away with all malice, all clamour," (railing,) "and evil-speaking: Be ye kind one to another," to all your brethren and countrymen, -- "tender-hearted" to all that are in distress; "forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."

10. And "now let my counsel be acceptable to" you, to every one of you present before God. "Break off thy sins by repentance, and thy iniquities by showing mercy to the poor, if it may be a lengthening of thy tranquility," --of what degree of it still remains among us. Show mercy more especially to the poor widows, to the helpless orphans, of your countrymen who are now numbered among the dead, who fell among the slain in a distant land. Who knoweth but the Lord will yet be entreated, will calm the madness of the people, will quench the flames of contention, and breathe into all the spirit of love, unity, and concord? Then brother shall not lift up sword against brother, neither shall they know war any more. Then shall plenty and peace flourish in our land, and all the inhabitants of it be thankful for the innumerable blessings which they enjoy, and shall "fear God, and honour the king."

London, Nov. 7, 1775

[137] [text from the 1872 edition]

[138] Preached at St. Matthew's, Bethnal-Green, on Sunday, November 12, 1775, for the benefit of the Widows and Orphans of the Soldiers who lately fell, near Boston, in New-England

Sermon 131: The Late Work of God in North America

Sermon 131 [139]

The Late Work of God in North America

"The appearance was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel."

Ezek. 1:16.

1. Whatever may be the primary meaning of this mysterious passage of Scripture, many serious Christians, in all ages have applied it in a secondary sense, to the manner wherein the adorable providence of God usually works in governing the world. They have judged this expression manifestly to allude to the complicated wheels of his providence, adapting one event to another, and working one thing by means of another. In the whole process of this, there is an endless variety of wheels within wheels. But they are frequently so disposed and complicated, that we cannot understand them at first sight; nay, we can seldom fully comprehend them till they are explained by the event.

2. Perhaps no age ever afforded a more striking instance of this kind than the present does, in the dispensations of divine providence with respect to our colonies in North-America. In order to see this clearly, let us endeavour, according to the measure of our weak understanding,

First, to trace each wheel apart: And,

Secondly, to consider both, as they relate to and answer each other.

I. And, First, we are to trace each wheel apart.

It is by no means my design to give a particular detail of the late transactions in America; but barely to give a simple and naked deduction of a few well-known facts.

I know this is a very delicate subject; and that it is difficult, if not impossible, to treat it in such a manner as not to offend any, particularly those who are warmly attached to either party. But I would not willingly offend; and shall therefore studiously avoid all keen and reproachful language, and use the softest terms I can, without either betraying or disguising the truth.

1. In the year 1736 it pleased God to begin a work of grace in the newly planted colony of Georgia, then the southernmost of our settlements on the continent of America. To those English who had settled there the year before, were then added a body of Moravians, so called; and a larger body who had been expelled from Germany by the Archbishop of Salzburg. These were men truly fearing God and working righteousness. At the same time there began an awakening among the English, both at Savannah and Frederica; many inquiring what they must do to be saved, and "bringing forth fruits meet for repentance."

2. In the same year there broke out a wonderful work of God in several parts of New-England. It began in Northampton, and in a little time appeared in the adjoining towns. A particular and beautiful account of this was published by Mr. Edwards, Minister of Northampton. Many sinners were deeply convinced of sin, and many truly converted to God. I suppose there had been no instance in America of so swift and deep a work of grace, for an hundred years before; nay, nor perhaps since the English settled there.

3. The following year, the work of God spread by degrees from New-England towards the south. At the same time it advanced by slow degrees, from Georgia towards the north. In a few souls it deepened likewise; and some of them witnessed a good confession, both in life and in death.

4. In the year 1738 Mr. Whitefield came over to Georgia, with a design to assist me in preaching, either to the English or the Indians. But as I was embarked for England before he arrived, he preached to the English altogether, first in Georgia, to which his chief service was due, then in South and North Carolina, and afterwards in the intermediate provinces, till he came to New-England. And all men owned that God was with him, wheresoever he went; giving a general call to high and low, rich and poor, to "repent, and believe the gospel." Many were not disobedient to the heavenly calling: They did repent and believe the gospel. And by his ministry a line of communication was formed, quite from Georgia to New-England.

5. Within a few years he made several more voyages to America, and took several more journeys through the provinces. And in every journey he found fresh reason to bless God, who still prospered the work of his hands; there being more and more, in all the provinces, who found his word to be "the power of God unto salvation."

6. But the last journey he made, he acknowledged to some of his friends, that he had much sorrow and heaviness in his heart, on account of multitudes who for a time ran well, but afterwards "drew back unto perdition." Indeed, in a few years, the far greater part of those who had once "received the word with joy," yea, had "escaped the corruption that is in the world," were "entangled again and overcome." Some were like those who received the seed on stony ground, which "in time of temptation withered away." Others were like those who "received it among thorns: "the thorns" soon "sprang up, and choked it." Insomuch that he found exceeding few who "brought forth fruit to perfection." A vast majority had entirely "turned back from the holy commandment delivered to them."

7. And what wonder! for it was a true saying, which was common in the ancient Church, "The soul and the body make a man; and the spirit and discipline make a Christian." But those who were more or less affected by Mr. Whitefield's preaching had no discipline at all. They had no shadow of discipline; nothing of the kind. They were formed into no societies: They had no Christian connection with each other, nor were ever taught to watch over each other's souls. So that if any fell into lukewarmness, or even into sin, he had none to lift him up: He might fall lower and lower, yea, into hell, if he would, for who regarded it?

8. Things were in this state when about eleven years ago I received several letters from America, giving a melancholy account of the state of religion in most of the colonies, and earnestly entreating that some of our Preachers would come over and help them. It was believed they might confirm many that were weak or wavering, and lift up many that were fallen; nay, and that they would see more fruit of their labours in America than they had done either in England or Ireland.

9. This was considered at large in our yearly Conference at Bristol, in the year 1769: And two of our Preachers willingly offered themselves; viz., Richard Boardman and Joseph Pillmoor. They were men well reported of by all, and (we believed) fully qualified for the work. Accordingly, after a few days spent in London, they cheerfully went over. They laboured first in Philadelphia and New-York; afterwards in many other places: And everywhere God was eminently with them, and gave them to see much fruit of their labour. What was wanting before was now supplied: Those who were desirous to save their souls were no longer a rope of sand, but clave to one another, and began to watch over each other in love. Societies were formed, and Christian discipline introduced in all its branches. Within a few years after, several more of the Preachers were willing to go and assist them. And God raised up many natives of the country who were glad to act in connexion with them; till there were two-and-twenty Travelling Preachers in America, who kept their circuits as regularly as those in England.

10. The work of God then not only spread wider, particularly in North Carolina, Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and the Jerseys, but sunk abundantly deeper than ever it had done before. So that at the beginning of the late troubles there were three thousand souls connected together in religious societies; and a great number of these witnessed that the Son of God hath power on earth to forgive sin.

11. But now it was that a bar appeared in the way, a grand hindrance to the progress of religion. The immense trade of America, greater in proportion than even that of the mother-country, brought in an immense flow of wealth; which was also continually increasing. Hence both merchants and tradesmen of various kinds accumulated money without end, and rose from indigence to opulent fortunes, quicker than any could do in Europe. Riches poured in upon them as a flood, and treasures were heaped up as the sand of the sea. And hence naturally arose unbounded plenty of all the necessaries, conveniences, yea, and superfluities, of life.

12. One general consequence of this was pride. The more riches they acquired, the more they were regarded by their neighbours as men of weight and importance: And they would naturally see themselves in at least as fair a light as their neighbours saw them. And, accordingly, as they rose in the world, they rose in their opinion of themselves. As it is generally allowed,

A thousand pound supplies

The want of twenty thousand qualities;

so, the richer they grew, the more admiration they gained, and the more applause they received. Wealth then bringing in more applause, of course brought in more pride, till they really thought themselves as much wiser, as they were wealthier, than their neighbours.

13. Another natural consequence of wealth was luxury, particularly in food. We are apt to imagine nothing can exceed the luxurious living which now prevails in Great Britain and Ireland. But alas! what is this to that which lately prevailed in Philadelphia, and other parts of North America? A merchant or middling tradesman there kept a table equal to that of a nobleman in England; entertaining his guests with ten, twelve, yea, sometimes twenty dishes of meat at a meal! And this was so far from being blamed by any one, that it was applauded as generosity and hospitality.

14. And is not idleness naturally joined with "fullness of bread?" Doth not sloth easily spring from luxury? It did so here in an eminent degree; such sloth as is scarce named in England. Persons in the bloom of youth, and in perfect health, could hardly bear to put on their own clothes. The slave must be called to do this, and that, and everything: It is too great labour for the master or mistress. It is a wonder they would be at the pains of putting meat into their own mouths. Why did they not imitate the lordly lubbers in China, who are fed by a slave standing on each side?

15. Who can wonder, if sloth alone beget wantonness? Has it not always had this effect? Was it not said near two thousand years ago,

Quaeritur, Aegisthus quare sit factus adulter?

In promptu causa est; Desidiosus erat.

[The following is Tate's translation of this quotation from Ovid: --

"The adulterous lust that did Aegisthus seize,

And brought on murder, sprang from wanton ease." -- Edit.]

And when sloth and luxury are joined together, will they not produce an abundant offspring? This they certainly have done in these parts. I was surprised a few years ago at a letter I received from Philadelphia, wherein were (nearly) these words: "You think the women in England (many of them, I mean) do not abound in chastity. But yet the generality of your women, if compared with ours, might almost pass for vestal virgins." Now this complication of pride, luxury, sloth, and wantonness, naturally arising from vast wealth and plenty, was the grand hindrance to the spreading of true religion through the cities of North-America.

II. Let us now see the other wheel of divine providence.

1. It may reasonably be supposed that the colonies in New-England had, from their very beginning, an hankering after independency. It could not be expected to be otherwise, considering their families, their education, their relations, and the connections they had formed before they left their native country. They were farther inclined to it by the severe and unjust treatment which many of them had met with in England. This might well create in them a fear lest they should meet with the like again, a jealousy of their governors, and a desire of shaking off that dependence, to which they were never thoroughly reconciled. The same spirit they communicated to their children, from whom it descended to the present generation. Nor could it be effaced by all the favours and benefits which they continually received from the English Government.

2. This spirit generally prevailed, especially in Boston, as early as the year 1737. In that year, my brother, being detained there some time, was greatly surprised to hear almost in every company, whether of Ministers, gentlemen, merchants, or common people, where anything of the kind was mentioned, "We must be independent! We will be independent! We will bear the English yoke no longer! We will be our own governors!" This appeared to be even then the general desire of the people; although it is not probable that there was at that time any formed design. No; they could not be so vain as to think they were able to stand alone against the power of Great Britain.

3. A gentleman who was there in the following year observed the same spirit in every corner of the town: "Why should these English blockheads rule over us?" was then the common language. And as one encouraged another herein, the spirit of independency rose higher and higher, till it began to spread into the other colonies bordering upon New-England. Nevertheless the fear of their troublesome neighbours, then in possession of Canada, kept them within bounds, and for a time prevented the flame from breaking out. But when the English had removed that fear from them, when Canada was ceded to the king of Great Britain, the desire then ripened into a formed design; only a convenient opportunity was wanting.

4. It was not long before that opportunity appeared. The Stamp-Act was passed, and sent over to America. The malcontents saw and pressed their advantage; they represented it as a common cause; and by proper emissaries spread their own spirit through another and another colony. By inflammatory papers of every kind, they stirred up the minds of the people. They vilified, first, the English Ministry, representing them, one and all, as the veriest wretches alive, void of all honesty, honour, and humanity. By the same methods they next inflamed the people in general against the British Parliament, representing them as the most infamous villains upon earth, as a company of base, unprincipled hirelings. But still they affected to reverence the King, and spoke very honourably of him. Not long; a few months after, they treated him in the same manner they had done his ministers and his Parliament.

5. Matters being now, it was judged, in sufficient forwardness, an association was formed between the northern and southern colonies; both took up arms, and constituted a supreme power which they termed the Congress. But still they affirmed, their whole design was to secure their liberty; and even to insinuate that they aimed at anything more, was said to be quite cruel and unjust. But in a little time they threw off the mask, and boldly asserted their own independency. Accordingly, Dr. Witherspoon, President of the College in New-Jersey, in his address to the Congress (added to a Fast-Sermon, published by him, August 3, 1776,) uses the following words: -- "It appears now, in the clearest manner, that till very lately those who seemed to take the part of America, in the British Parliament, never did it on American principles. They either did not understand, or were not willing to admit, the extent of our claim. Even the great Lord Chatham's Bill for Reconciliation would not have been accepted here, and did not materially differ from what the Ministry would have consented to." Here it is avowed, that their claim was independency; and that they would accept of nothing less.

6. By this open and avowed defection from, and defiance of, their mother-country, (whether it was defensible or not, is another question,) at least nine parts in ten of their immense trade to Europe, Asia, Africa, and other parts of America were cut off at one stroke. In lieu of this they gained at first, perhaps, an hundred thousand pounds a year by their numerous privateers. But even then, this was, upon the whole, no gain at all; for they lost as many ships as they took. Afterwards they took fewer and fewer; and in the meantime they lost four or five millions yearly, (perhaps six or seven,) which their trade brought them in. What was the necessary consequence of this? Why, that, as the fountain of their wealth was dammed up, the streams of it must run lower and lower, till they were wholly exhausted; so that at present these provinces are no richer than the poorest parts either of Scotland or Ireland.

7. Plenty declined in the same proportion as wealth, till universal scarcity took place. In a short time there was everywhere felt a deep want, not only of the superfluities, not only of the common conveniences, but even of the necessaries, of life. Wholesome food was not to be procured but at a very advanced price. Decent apparel was not to be had, not even in the large towns. Not only velvets, and silks, and fashionable ornaments, (which might well be spared,), but even linen and woollen clothes, were not to be purchased at any price whatsoever.

8. Thus have we observed each of these wheels apart; -- on the one hand, trade, wealth, pride, luxury, sloth, and wantonness spreading far and wide, through the American provinces; on the other, the spirit of independency diffusing itself from north to south.

Let us now observe how each of these wheels relates to, and answers, the other; how the wise and gracious providence of God uses one to check the course of the other, and even employs (if so strong an expression may be allowed) Satan to cast out Satan. Probably, that subtle spirit hoped, by adding to all those other vices the spirit of independency, to have overturned the whole work of God, as well as the British Government, in North-America. But he that sitteth in heaven laughed him to scorn, and took the wise in his own craftiness. By means of this very spirit, there is reason to believe, God will overturn every hindrance of that work.

9. We have seen, how by the breaking out of this spirit, in open defiance of the British Government, an effectual check was given to the trade of those colonies. They themselves, by a wonderful stroke of policy, threw up the whole trade of their mother-country, and all its dependencies; made an Act, that no British ship should enter into any of their harbours; nay, they fitted out numberless privateers, which seized upon all the British ships they could find. The King's ships seized an equal number of theirs. So their foreign trade too was brought almost to nothing. Their riches died away with their trade, especially as they had no internal resources; the flower of their youth, before employed in husbandry, being now drawn off into their armies, so that the most fruitful lands were of no use, none being left to till the ground. And when wealth fled away, (as was before observed,) so did plenty too; -- abundance of all things being succeeded by scarcity of all things.

10. The wheel now began to move within the wheel. The trade and wealth of the Americans failing, the grand incentives of pride failed also; for few admire or flatter the poor. And, being deserted by most of their admirers, they did not altogether so much admire themselves; especially when they found, upon the trial, that they had grievously miscalculated their own strength; which they had made no doubt would be sufficient to carry all before it. It is true, many of them still exalted themselves; but others were truly and deeply humbled.

11. Poverty, and scarcity consequent upon it, struck still more directly at the root of their luxury. There was no place now for that immoderate superfluity either of food or apparel. They sought no more, and could seldom obtain, so much as plain food, sufficient to sustain nature. And they were content if they could procure coarse apparel, to keep them clean and warm. Thus they were reduced to the same condition their forefathers were in when the providence of God brought them into this country. They were nearly in the same outward circumstances. Happy, if they were likewise in the same spirit!

12. Poverty and want struck at the root of sloth also. It was now no time to say, "A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little more folding of the hands to rest." If a man would not work now, it was plain he could not eat. All the pains he could take were little enough to procure the bare necessaries of life: Seeing, on the one hand, so few of them remained, their own armies having swept away all before them; and, on the other, what remained bore so high a price, that exceeding few were able to purchase them.

13. Thus, by the adorable providence of God, the main hindrances of his work are removed. And in how wonderful a manner; -- such as it never could have entered into the heart of man to conceive! Those hindrances had been growing up and continually increasing for many years. What God foresaw would prove the remedy grew up with the disease; and when the disease was come to its height, then only began to operate. Immense trade, wealth, and plenty begot and nourished proportionable pride, and luxury, and sloth, and wantonness. Meantime the same trade, wealth, and plenty begot or nourished the spirit of independency. Who would have imagined that this evil disease would lay a foundation for the cure of all the rest? And yet so it was. For this spirit, now come to maturity, and disdaining all restraint, is now swiftly destroying the trade, and wealth, and plenty whereby it was nourished, and thereby makes way for the happy return of humility, temperance, industry, and chastity. Such unspeakable good does the all-wise God bring out of all this evil! So does "the fierceness of man," of the Americans, "turn to his praise," in a very different sense from what Dr. Witherspoon supposes!

14. May we not observe, how exactly in this grand scene of providence, one wheel answers to the other? The spirit of independency, which our poet so justly terms,

The glorious fault of angels and of gods,

(that is, in plain terms, of devils,) the same which so many call liberty, is over-ruled by the justice and mercy of God, first to punish those crying sins, and afterwards to heal them. He punishes them by poverty, coming as an armed man, and over-running the land; by such scarcity as has hardly been known there for an hundred years past; by want of every kind, even of necessary clothing, even of bread to eat. But with what intent does he do this? Surely that mercy may rejoice over judgment. He punishes that he may amend, that he may first make them sensible of their sins, which anyone that has eyes to see may read in their punishment; and then bring them back to the spirit of their forefathers, the spirit of humility, temperance, industry, chastity; yea, and a general willingness to hear and receive the word which is able to save their souls. "O the depth, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!" -- unless so far as they are revealed in his word, and explained by his providence.

15. From these we learn that the spiritual blessings are what God principally intends in all these severe dispensations. He intends they should all work together for the destruction of Satan's kingdom, and the promotion of the kingdom of his dear Son; that they should all minister to the general spread of "righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." But after the inhabitants of these provinces are brought again to "seek the kingdom of God, and his righteousness," there can be no doubt, but all other things, all temporal blessings, will be added unto them. He will send through all the happy land, with all the necessaries and conveniences of life, not independency, (which would be no blessing, but an heavy curse, both to them and their children,) but liberty, real, legal liberty; which is an unspeakable blessing. He will superadd to Christian liberty, liberty from sin, true civil liberty; a liberty from oppression of every kind; from illegal violence; a liberty to enjoy their lives, their persons, and their property; in a word, a liberty to be governed in all things by the laws of their country. They will again enjoy true British liberty, such as they enjoyed before these commotions: Neither less nor more than they have enjoyed from their first settlement in America. Neither less nor more than is now enjoyed by the inhabitants of their mother country. If their mother-country had ever designed to deprive them of this, she might have done it long ago; and that this was never done, is a demonstration that it was never intended. But God permitted this strange dread of imaginary evils to spread over all the people that he might have mercy upon all, that he might do good to all, by saving them from the bondage of sin, and bringing them into "the glorious liberty of the children of God!"

[139] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 132: On Laying the Foundation of the New Chapel, Near the City-Road, London

Sermon 132 [140]

On Laying the Foundation of the New Chapel, Near the City-Road, London

Preached on Monday, April 21, 1777

"According to this time it shall be said, -- What hath God wrought!"

Num. 23:23.

1. We need not now inquire, in what sense this was applicable to the children of Israel. It may be of more use to consider in what sense the words are applicable to ourselves; -- how far the people of England have reason to say, "According to this time, what hath God wrought!"

2. A great man, indeed, who I trust is now in a better world, Dr. Gibson, late Lord Bishop of London, in one of his Charges to his Clergy, flatly denies that God has wrought any "extraordinary work" in our nation; -- nay, affirms, that to imagine any such thing is no better than downright enthusiasm. It is so, if his Lordship's supposition is true, -- if God has not wrought any extraordinary work; but if he really has, then we may believe and assert it, without incurring any such imputation.

3. Yet a still greater man of a neighbouring nation, a burning and a shining light, equally eminent in piety and in learning, partly confirmed the Bishop's supposition; for Bengelius, being asked why he placed the grand revival of religion so late as the year 1836, replied, "I acknowledge all the prophecies would incline me to place it a century sooner; but an insurmountable difficulty lies in the way: I cannot reconcile this to matter of fact; for I do not know of any remarkable work of God which has been wrought upon earth between the years 1730 and 1740." This is really surprising. It is strange that sensible men should know so little of what is done at so small a distance. How could so great a man be ignorant of what was transacted no farther off than England? -- especially considering the accounts then published in Germany, some of which were tolerably impartial; nay, considering the particular account which I had sent, as early as the year 1742, to one well known through all the empire, Pastor (afterwards Superintendent) Steinmetz.

4. But has there, indeed, been any extraordinary work of God wrought in England during this century? This is an important question: It is certainly worthy of our serious consideration; and it is capable of being answered to the full satisfaction of every fair inquirer. He may easily be informed, what work it is, and in what manner it has been wrought. It is true, I am in one respect an improper person to give this information; as it will oblige me frequently to speak of myself, which may have the appearance of ostentation: But, with regard to this, I can only cast myself upon the candour of my hearers, being persuaded they will put the most favourable construction upon what is not a matter of choice, but of necessity. For there is no other person, if I decline the task, who can supply my place, -- who has a perfect knowledge of the work in question, from the beginning of it to this day. We may consider, First, the rise and progress of this work: Secondly, the nature of it.

I. 1. As to the rise of it. In the year 1725, a young student at Oxford was much affected by reading Kempis's "Christian Pattern," and Bishop Taylor's "Rules of Holy Living and Dying." He found an earnest desire to live according to those rules, and to flee from the wrath to come. He sought for some that would be his companions in the way, but could find none; so that, for several years, he was constrained to travel alone, having no man either to guide or to help him. But in the year 1729, he found one who had the same desire. They then endeavoured to help each other; and, in the close of the year, were joined by two more. They soon agreed to spend two or three hours together every Sunday evening. Afterwards they sat two evenings together, and, in a while, six evenings, in the week; spending that time in reading the Scriptures, and provoking one another to love and to good works.

2. The regularity of their behaviour gave occasion to a young gentleman of the college to say, "I think we have got a new set of Methodists," -- alluding to a set of Physicians, who began to flourish at Rome about the time of Nero, and continued for several ages. The name was new and quaint; it clave to them immediately; and from that time, both those four young gentlemen, and all that had any religious connection with them, were distinguished by the name of Methodists.

3. In the four or five years following, another and another were added to the number, till, in the year 1735, there were fourteen of them who constantly met together. Three of these were Tutors in their several Colleges; the rest, Bachelors of Arts or Under-graduates. They were all precisely of one judgment, as well as of one soul; all tenacious of order to the last degree, and observant, for conscience' sake, of every rule of the Church, and every statute both of the University and of their respective Colleges. They were all orthodox in every point; firmly believing, not only the Three Creeds, but whatsoever they judged to be the doctrine of the Church of England, as contained in her Articles and Homilies. As to that practice of the Apostolic Church, (which continued till the time of Tertullian, at least in many Churches,) the having all things in common, they had no rule, nor any formed design concerning it; but it was so in effect. and it could not be otherwise; for none could want anything that another could spare. This was the infancy of the work. They had no conception of anything that would follow. Indeed, they took "no thought for the morrow," desiring only to live today.

4. Many imagined that little society would be dispersed, and Methodism (so called) come to an end, when, in October, 1735, my brother, Mr. Ingham, and I, were induced, by a strange chain of providences, to go over to the new colony in Georgia. Our design was to preach to the Indian nations bordering upon that province; but we were detained at Savannah and Frederica, by the importunity of the people, who, having no other Ministers, earnestly requested that we would not leave them. After a time, I desired the most serious of them to meet me once or twice a week at my house. Here were the rudiments of a Methodist society; but, notwithstanding this, both my brother and I were as vehemently attached to the Church as ever, and to every rubric of it; insomuch that I would never admit a Dissenter to the Lord's Supper, unless he would be re-baptized. Nay, when the Lutheran Minister of the Saltzburgers at Ebenezer, being at Savannah, desired to receive it, I told him, I did not dare to administer it to him, because I looked upon him as unbaptized; as I judged baptism by laymen to be invalid: And such I counted all that were not episcopally ordained.

5. Full of these sentiments, of this zeal for the Church, (from which, I bless God, he has now delivered me,) I returned to England in the beginning of February, 1738. I was now in haste to retire to Oxford, and bury myself in my beloved obscurity; but I was detained in London, week after week, by the Trustees for the Colony of Georgia. In the meantime, I was continually importuned to preach in one and another church; and that not only morning, afternoon, and night, on Sunday, but on week-days also. As I was lately come from a far country, vast multitudes flocked together; but in a short time, partly because of those unwieldy crowds, partly because of my unfashionable doctrine, I was excluded from one and another church, and, at length, shut out of all! Not daring to be silent, after a short struggle between honour and conscience, I made a virtue of necessity, and preached in the middle of Moorfields. Here were thousands upon thousands, abundantly more than any church could contain; and numbers among them, who never went to any church or place of public worship at all. More and more of them were cut to the heart, and came to me all in tears, inquiring with the utmost eagerness, what they must do to be saved. I said, "If all of you will meet on Thursday evening, I will advise you as well as I can." The first evening about twelve persons came; the next week, thirty or forty. When they were increased to about an hundred, I took down their names and places of abode, intending, as often as it was convenient, to call upon them at their own houses. Thus, without any previous plan or design, began the Methodist society in England, -- a company of people associating together, to help each other to work out their own salvation.

6. The next spring we were invited to Bristol and Kingswood; where, likewise, Societies were quickly formed. The year following we went to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and preached to all the colliers and keelmen round it. In 1744, we went through Cornwall, as far as Sennen, near the Land's End; and, in the compass of two or three years more, to almost every part of England. Some time after, we were desired to go over to Ireland; and, in process of time, to every county therein. Last of all, we were invited to Musselburgh, Glasgow, and several other parts of Scotland. But it was in Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee, Arbroath, and Aberdeen, that we saw the greatest fruit of our labour.

II. 1. Such was the rise, and such has been the progress, of Methodism, from the beginning to the present time. But you will naturally ask, "What is Methodism? What does this new word mean? Is it not a new religion?" This is a very common, nay, almost an universal, supposition; but nothing can be more remote from the truth. It is a mistake all over. Methodism, so called, is the old religion, the religion of the Bible, the religion of the primitive Church, the religion of the Church of England. This old religion, (as I observed in the "Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion,") is "no other than love, the love of God and of all mankind; the loving God with all our heart, and soul, and strength, as having first loved us, -- as the fountain of all the good we have received, and of all we ever hope to enjoy; and the loving every soul which God hath made, every man on earth as our own soul. This love is the great medicine of life; the neverfailing remedy for all the evils of a disordered world; for all the miseries and vices of men. Wherever this is, there are virtue and happiness going hand in hand; there is humbleness of mind, gentleness, long-suffering, the whole image of God; and, at the same time, a peace that passeth all understanding,' with joy unspeakable and full of glory.' This religion of love, and joy, and peace, has its seat in the inmost soul; but is ever showing itself by its fruits, continually springing up, not only in all innocence, (for love worketh no ill to his neighbour,) but, likewise, in every kind of beneficence, -- spreading virtue and happiness all around it."

2. This is the religion of the Bible, as no one can deny who reads it with any attention. It is the religion which is continually inculcated therein, which runs through both the Old and New Testament. Moses and the Prophets, our blessed Lord and his Apostles, proclaim with one voice, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, and thy neighbour as thyself." The Bible declares, "Love is the fulfilling of the Law," "the end of the commandment," -- of all the commandments which are contained in the oracles of God. The inward and outward fruits of this love are also largely described by the inspired writers; so that whoever allows the Scripture to be the Word of God, must allow this to be true religion.

3. This is the religion of the primitive Church, of the whole Church in the purest ages. It is clearly expressed, even in the small remains of Clemens Romanus, Ignatius, and Polycarp; it is seen more at large in the writings of Tertullian, Origen, Clemens Alexandrinus, and Cyprian; and, even in the fourth century, it was found in the works of Chrysostom, Basil, Ephrem Syrus, and Macarius. It would be easy to produce "a cloud of witnesses," testifying the same thing; were not this a point which no one will contest, who has the least acquaintance with Christian antiquity.

4. And this is the religion of the Church of England; as appears from all her authentic records, from the uniform tenor of her Liturgy, and from numberless passages in her Homilies. The scriptural, primitive religion of love, which is now reviving throughout the three kingdoms, is to be found in her Morning and Evening Service, and in her daily, as well as occasional, Prayers; and the whole of it is beautifully summed up in that one comprehensive petition, "Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy name."

5. Permit me to give a little fuller account, both of the progress and nature of this religion, by an extract from a treatise which was published many years ago: -- [Farther Appeal, Part III.]

"Just at the time when we wanted little of filling up the measure of our iniquities, two or three Clergymen of the Church of England began vehemently to call sinners to repentance. Many thousands gathered together to hear them; and, in every place where they came, many began to show such concern for religion as they never had done before. Many were in a short time deeply convinced of the number and heinousness of their sins, of their evil tempers, of their inability to help themselves, and of the insignificancy of their outside religion. And from this repentance sprung fruits meet for repentance; the whole form of their life was changed. They ceased to do evil, and learned to do well.' Neither was this all; but over and above this outward change they began to experience inward religion; the love of God was shed abroad in their hearts, which they enjoy to this day. They love Him, because he first loved us;' and this love constrains them to love all mankind, and inspires them with every holy and heavenly temper, with the mind which was in Christ. Hence it is that they are now uniform in their behaviour, unblamable in all manner of conversation; and in whatsoever state they are, they have learned therewith to be content. Thus they calmly travel on through life, never repining, or murmuring, or dissatisfied, till the hour comes that they shall drop this covering of earth, and return to the Father of spirits."

6. This revival of religion has spread to such a degree, as neither we nor our fathers had known. How extensive has it been! There is scarce a considerable town in the kingdom, where some have not been made witnesses of it. It has spread to every age and sex, to most orders and degrees of men; and even to abundance of those who, in time past, were accounted monsters of wickedness.

Consider the swiftness as well as extent of it. "In what age has such a number of sinners been recovered in so short a time from the error of their ways? When has true religion, I will not say since the Reformation, but since the time of Constantine the Great, made so large a progress in any nation, within so small a space? I believe hardly can either ancient or modern history afford a parallel instance.

7. "We may likewise observe the depth of the work so extensively and swiftly wrought. Multitudes have been throughly convinced of sin; and, shortly after, so filled with joy and love, that whether they were in the body, or out of the body, they could hardly tell; and, in the power of this love, they have trampled underfoot whatever the world accounts either terrible or desirable, having evidenced, in the severest trials, an invariable and tender good-will to mankind, and all the fruits of holiness. Now so deep a repentance, so strong a faith, so fervent love, and so unblemished holiness, wrought in so many persons in so short a time, the world has not seen for many ages.

8. "No less remarkable is the purity of the religion which has extended itself so deeply and swiftly: I speak particularly as to the doctrines held by those who are the subjects of it. Those of the Church of England, at least, must acknowledge this; for where is there a body of people, who, number for number, so closely adhere to the doctrines of the Church?

"Nor is their religion more pure from heresy than it is from superstition. In former times, wherever any unusual religious concern has appeared, there has sprung up with it a zeal for things that were no part of religion. But it has not been so in the present case; no stress has been laid on anything, as though it was necessary to salvation, but what is plainly contained in the word of God. And of the things contained therein, the stress laid on each has been in proportion to the nearness of its relation to what is there laid down as the sum of all, -- the love of God and our neighbour. So pure, both from superstition and error, is the religion which has lately spread in this nation.

9. "It is likewise rational. It is as pure from enthusiasm as from superstition. It is true the contrary has been continually affirmed; but to affirm is one thing, to prove is another. Who will prove that it is enthusiasm to love God, yea, to love him with all our heart? Who is able to make good this charge against the love of all mankind? (I do but just touch on the general heads.) But if you cannot make it good, own this religion to be sober, manly, rational, divine.

10. "It is also pure from bigotry. Those who hold it are not bigoted to opinions. They would hold right opinions; but they are peculiarly cautious not to rest the weight of Christianity there. They have no such overgrown fondness for any opinions, as to think those alone will make them Christians; or to confine their affection, or esteem, to those that agree with them therein. Nor are they bigoted to any particular branch even of practical religion; they are not attached to one point more than another; they aim at uniform, universal obedience. They contend for nothing circumstantial, as if it were essential to religion; but for everything in its own order.

11. "They dread that bitter zeal, that spirit of persecution, which has so often accompanied the spirit of reformation. They do not approve of using any kind of violence, on any pretence, in matters of religion. They allow no method of bringing any to the knowledge of the truth, except the methods of reason and persuasion; and their practice is consistent with their profession. They do not, in fact, hinder their dependents from worshipping God, in every respect, according to their own conscience."

But if these things are so, may we not well say, "What hath God wrought!" For such a work, if we consider the extensiveness of it, the swiftness with which it has spread, the depth of the religion so swiftly diffused, and its purity from all corrupt mixtures, we must acknowledge cannot easily be paralleled, in all these concurrent circumstances, by anything that is found in the English annals, since Christianity was first planted in this island.

12. It may throw considerable light upon the nature of this work, to mention one circumstance more, attending the present revival of religion, which, I apprehend, is quite peculiar to it. I do not remember to have either seen, heard, or read of anything parallel. It cannot be denied that there have been several considerable revivals of religion in England since the Reformation. But the generality of the English nation were little profited thereby; because they that were the subjects of those revivals, Preachers as well as people, soon separated from the Established Church, and formed themselves into a distinct sect. So did the Presbyterians first; afterwards, the Independents, the Anabaptists, and the Quakers: And after this was done, they did scarce any good, except to their own little body. As they chose to separate from the Church, so the people remaining therein separated from them, and generally contracted a prejudice against them. But these were immensely the greatest number; so that, by that unhappy separation, the hope of a general, national reformation was totally cut off.

13. But it is not so in the present revival of religion. The Methodists (so termed) know their calling. They weighed the matter at first, and, upon mature deliberation, determined to continue in the Church. Since that time, they have not wanted temptations of every kind to alter their resolution. They have heard abundance said upon the subject, perhaps all that can be said: They have read the writings of the most eminent pleaders for separation, both in the last and present century: They have spent several days in a General Conference upon this very question, "Is it expedient (supposing, not granting, that it is lawful) to separate from the Established Church?" But still they could see no sufficient cause to depart from their first resolution. So that their fixed purpose is, let the Clergy or laity use them well or ill, by the grace of God, to endure all things, to hold on their even course, and to continue in the Church, maugre men or devils, unless God permits them to be thrust out.

14. Near twenty years ago, immediately after their solemn consultation on the subject, a Clergyman, who had heard the whole, said, with great earnestness, "In the name of God, let nothing move you to recede from this resolution. God is with you, of a truth; and so he will be, while you continue in the Church: But whenever the Methodists leave the Church, God will leave them." Lord, what is man! In a few months after, Mr. Ingham himself left the Church, and turned all the societies under his care into congregations of Independents. And what was the event? The same that he had foretold! -- They swiftly mouldered into nothing.

Some years after, a person of honour told me, "This is the peculiar glory of the Methodists: However convenient it might be, they will not, on any account or pretence whatever, form a distinct sect or party. Let no one rob you of this glorying." I trust none will, as long as I live. But the giver of this advice entirely forgot it in a very short time, and has, almost ever since, been labouring to form Independent congregations.

15. This has occasioned many to ask, "Why do you say the Methodists form no distinct party, -- that they do not leave the Church? Are there not thousands of Methodists who have, in fact, left the Church; who never attend the Church Service; never receive the Lord's Supper there; nay, who speak against the Church, even with bitterness, both in public and private; yea, who appoint and frequent meetings for divine service at the same hour? How, then, can you affirm that the Methodists do not leave the Church?"

I am glad of so public an opportunity of explaining this; in order to which, it will be necessary to look back some years. The Methodists at Oxford were all one body, and, as it were, one soul; zealous for the religion of the Bible, of the primitive church, and, in consequence, of the Church of England; as they believed it to come nearer the scriptural and primitive plan than any other national Church upon earth.

When my brother and I returned from Georgia, we were in the same sentiments. And at that time we and our friends were the only persons to whom that innocent name was affixed. Thus far, therefore, all the Methodists were firm to the Church of England.

16. But a good man who met with us when we were at Oxford, while he was absent from us, conversed much with Dissenters, and contracted strong prejudices against the Church: I mean Mr. Whitefield: And not long after he totally separated from us. In some years, William Cudworth and several others separated from him, and turned Independents; as did Mr. Maxfield and a few more, after separating from us. Lastly, a school was set up near Trevecka, in Wales; and almost all who were educated there, (except those that were ordained, and some of them too,) as they disclaimed all connexion with the Methodists, so they disclaimed the Church also: Nay, they spoke of it, upon all occasions, with exquisite bitterness and contempt.

Now, let every impartial person judge whether we are accountable for any of these. None of these have any manner of connexion with the original Methodists. They are branches broken off from the tree: If they break from the Church also, we are not accountable for it.

These, therefore, cannot make our glorying void, that we do not, will not, form any separate sect, but from principle remain, what we always have been, true members of the Church of England.

17. Brethren, I presume the greater part of you also are members of the Church of England. So, at least, you are called; but you are not so indeed, unless you are witnesses of the religion above described. And are you really such? Judge not one another; but every man look into his own bosom. How stands the matter in your own breast? Examine your conscience before God. Are you an happy partaker of this scriptural, this truly primitive, religion? Are you a witness of the religion of love? Are you a lover of God and all mankind? Does your heart glow with gratitude to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, the Father of the spirit flesh, who giveth you life, and breath, and all things; who hath given you his Son, his only Son, that you "might not perish, but have everlasting life?" Is your soul warm with benevolence to all mankind? Do you long to have all men virtuous and happy? And does the constant tenor of your life and conversation bear witness of this? Do you "love, not in word" only, "but in deed and in truth?" Do you persevere in the "work of faith, and the labour of Love?" Do you "walk in love, as Christ also loved us, and gave himself for us?" Do you, as you have time, "do good unto all men;" and in as high a degree as you are able? Whosoever thus "doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother." Whosoever thou art, whose heart is herein as my heart, give me thine hand! Come, and let us magnify the Lord together, and labour to promote his kingdom upon earth! Let us join hearts and hands in this blessed work, in striving to bring glory to God in the highest, by establishing peace and good-will among men, to the uttermost of our power! First. Let our hearts be joined herein; let us unite our wishes and prayers; let our whole soul pant after a general revival of pure religion and undefiled, the restoration of the image of God, pure love, in every child of man! Then let us endeavour to promote, in our several stations, this scriptural, primitive religion; let us, with all diligence, diffuse the religion of love among all we have any intercourse with; let us provoke all men, not to enmity and contention, but to love and to good works; always remembering those deep words, (God engrave them on all our hearts!) "God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him!"

[140] [text of the 1872 ed.]

Sermon 133: Preached on Occasion of the Death of the Rev. Mr. John Fletcher, Vicar of

Sermon 133 [141]

Preached on Occasion of the Death of the Rev. Mr. John Fletcher, Vicar of Madeley, Shropshire [142]

"Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: For the end of that man is peace."

Ps. 37:37.

In the preceding verses, taken together with this, there is a beautiful contrast between the death of a wicked and that of a good man. "I myself," says the Psalmist, "have seen the ungodly in great power, and flourishing like a green bay tree. I went by and lo, he was gone: I sought him, but his place could nowhere be found." Dost thou desire to be found happy, both in life and in death? Then "keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right; for that shall bring a man peace at the last." The words are rendered in the new translation, with far more force and elegance: "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: For the end of that man is peace." It is not improbable that David, while he uttered these words, had a particular instance before his eyes. Such an instance was that of the great and good man whom God has not long ago taken to himself.

In discoursing on these words I purpose, First, briefly to inquire, Who is the person that is here spoken of, "the perfect, the upright man." I will endeavour, Secondly, to explain the promise, "That shall bring a man peace at the last;" or, as it is expressed in the other version, "The end of that man is peace." I will then, with the divine assistance, show a little more at large, in how glorious a manner it was fulfilled in the end of that "perfect and upright man" who has been lately removed from us.

I. 1. I am, First, briefly to inquire who is the person that is here spoken of, "the upright and perfect man." In speaking on this head, I shall not endeavour to describe the character of an upright Jew, such as David himself was, or any of those holy men that lived under the Mosaic dispensation: It more nearly imports us to consider such an upright man as are those that live under the Christian dispensation; such as have lived and died since "life and immortality" have been "brought to light by the gospel."

2. In this sense, he is a perfect and upright man who believes in the name of the Son of God; he is one in whom it has pleased the Father to reveal the Son of his love, and who, consequently, is able to declare, "The life that I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God; who loved me, and gave himself for me." He is one that finds "the Spirit of God witnessing with his spirit, that he is a child of God," and unto whom Jesus Christ is made of God "wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption."

3. This faith will undoubtedly work by love. Accordingly, every Christian believer has "the love of God shed abroad in his heart, by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him." And, loving God, he loves his brother also; his good-will extends to every child of man. By this, as well as by the fruits of love, -- lowliness, meekness, and resignation, -- he shows that there is the same "mind in him which was in Christ Jesus."

4. As to his outward behaviour, the upright Christian believer is blameless and unreprovable. He is holy, as Christ that has called him is holy, in all manner of conversation; ever labouring to "have a conscience void of offence toward God and toward man." He not only avoids all outward sin, but "abstains from all appearance of evil." He steadily walks in all the public and private ordinances of the Lord blameless. He is zealous of good works; as he hath time, doing good, in every kind and degree, to all men. And in the whole course of his life he pursues one invariable rule, -- "whether he eats or drinks, or whatever he does, to do all to the glory of God.

II. And surely "the end of this man is peace;" the meaning of which words we are now, in the Second place, to consider.

I do not conceive this immediately to refer to that glorious peace which is prepared for him in the presence of God to all eternity; but rather to that which he will enjoy in the present world, before his spirit returns to God that gave it. Neither does it seem directly to refer to outward peace, or deliverance from outward trouble; although it is true, many good men, who have been long buffeted by adversity, and troubled on every side, have experienced an entire deliverance from it, and enjoyed a remarkable calm before they went hence. But this seems chiefly to refer to inward peace; even that "peace of God which passeth all understanding." Therefore it is no wonder that it cannot be fully and adequately expressed in human language. We can only say, it is an unspeakable calmness and serenity of spirit, a tranquillity in the blood of Christ, which keeps the souls of believers, in their latest hour, even as a garrison keeps a city; which keeps not only their hearts, all their passions and affections, but also their minds, all the motions of their understanding and imagination, and all the workings of their reason, in Christ Jesus. This peace they experienced in a higher or lower degree, (suppose they continued in the faith,) from the time they first found redemption in the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins. But when they have nearly finished their course, it generally flows as a river, even in such a degree as it had not before entered into their hearts to conceive. A remarkable instance of this, out of a thousand, occurred many years ago: -- Enoch Williams, one of the first of our Preachers that was stationed at Cork, (who had received this peace when he was eleven years old, and never lost it for an hour,) after he had rejoiced in God with joy unspeakable during the whole course of his illness, was too much exhausted to speak many words, but just said, "Peace! peace!" and died.

III. So was the Scripture fulfilled. But it was far more gloriously fulfilled in that late eminent servant of God; as will clearly appear if we consider a few circumstances, First, of his life, and Secondly, of his triumphant death.

1. Indeed we have, as yet, but a very imperfect knowledge of his life. We know little more of his early years, than that he was from his infancy so remarkably regardless of food, that he would scarce take enough to sustain life; and that he had always much of the fear of God, and a real sense of religion. He was born September 12, in the year 1729, at Nyon, in Switzerland, of a very reputable family. He went through the usual course of academical studies in the University of Geneva. One of his uncles, who was at that time a General Officer in the Imperial service, then invited him into the same service, promising to procure him a commission. But just as he came into Germany, the war was at an end. Being so far on his way, he was then invited into Holland by another uncle, who had, a little before been desired by a correspondent in England to procure a tutor for a gentleman's sons. He asked Mr. Fletcher whether he was willing to go into England and undertake this office. He consented, and accordingly went over to England, and undertook the care of Mr. Hill's two sons, at Tern, in Shropshire; and he continued in that office till the young gentlemen went to the University.

2. When Mr. Hill went up to London, to attend the Parliament, he took his lady and Mr. Fletcher with him. While they were dining at St. Alban's, he walked out into the town, but did not return till the coach was set out for London. However, a saddle-horse being left, he came after, and overtook them on the same evening. Mrs. Hill asking him why he stayed behind, he said, "I was walking through the market-place, and I heard a poor old woman talk so sweetly of Jesus Christ, that I knew not how the time past away." "I will be hanged," said Mrs. Hill, "if our tutor does not turn Methodist by and by!" "Methodist, Madam," said he, "pray what is that?" She replied, "Why, the Methodists are a people that do nothing but pray. They are praying all day and all night." "Are they?" said he, "then, with the help of God, I will find them out, if they be above ground." He did, not long after, find them out, and had his desire, being admitted into the society. While he was in town, he met in Mr. Richard Edwards's class, and lost no opportunity of meeting. And he retained a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards to the day of his death.

3. It was not long before he was pressed in spirit to call sinners to repentance. Seeing the world all around him lying in wickedness, he found an earnest desire

To pluck poor brands out of the fire,

To snatch them from the verge of hell.

And though he was yet far from being perfect in the English tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation of it, yet the earnestness with which he spake, seldom to be seen in England, and the unspeakably tender affection to poor, lost sinners which breathed in every word and gesture, made so deep an impression on all that heard that very few went empty away.

4. About the year 1753, (being now of a sufficient age,) he was ordained Deacon and Priest, and soon after presented to the little living of Madeley, in Shropshire. This, he had frequently said, was the only living which he ever desired to have. He was ordained at Whitehall, and the same day, being informed that I had no one to assist me at West-street chapel, he came away as soon as ever the ordination was over, and assisted me in the administration of the Lord's Supper. And he was now doubly diligent in preaching, not only in the chapels of West-street and Spitalfields, but wherever the providence of God opened a door to proclaim the everlasting gospel. This he did frequently in French, (as well as in English,) of which all judges allowed him to be a complete master.

5. Hence he removed into the Vicarage-house at Madeley. Here he was fully employed among his parishioners, both in the town and in Madeley-Wood, a mile or two from it, -- a place much resembling Kingswood, almost wholly inhabited by poor colliers [coal miners], and their numerous families. These forlorn ones (little wiser than the beasts that perish) he took great pains to reform and instruct. And they are now as judicious and as well-behaved a people as most of their station in the three kingdoms.

6. But after some time he was prevailed upon by the Countess of Huntingdon to leave his beloved retreat, and remove into Wales, in order to superintend her school at Trevecka. This he did with all his power, instructing the young men both in learning and philosophy; till he received a letter from the Countess, together with the circular letter signed by Mr. Shirley, summoning all that feared God in England to meet together at Bristol at the time of the Methodist Conference, "in order to bear testimony against the dreadful heresy contained in the Minutes of the preceding Conference." Her Ladyship declared, that all who did not absolutely renounce those eight propositions which were contained in the Minutes of that Conference must immediately leave her house. Mr. Fletcher was exceedingly surprised at this peremptory declaration. He spent the next day in fasting and prayer, and in the evening wrote to her Ladyship that he not only could not utterly renounce, but must entirely approve of, all those eight propositions; and therefore had obeyed her order, by leaving her house and returning to his own at Madeley.

7. That circular letter was the happy occasion of his writing those excellent "Checks to Antinomianism," in which one knows not which to admire most, the purity of the language, (such as a foreigner scarce ever wrote before,) the strength and clearness of the argument, or the mildness and sweetness of the spirit which breathes throughout the whole; insomuch that I nothing wonder at a clergyman that was resolved never to part with his dear decrees, who, being pressed to read them, replied, "No, I will never read Mr. Fletcher's writings; for if I did, I should be of his mind." He now likewise wrote several other valuable tracts. Meantime, he was more abundant in his ministerial labours, both in public and private; visiting his whole parish, early and late, in all weathers; regarding neither heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he was on horseback or on foot. But this insensibly weakened his constitution, and sapped the foundation of his health; which was still more effectually done by his intense and uninterrupted studies, at which he frequently continued with scarce any intermission, fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen hours a day. Meantime, he did not allow himself necessary food. He seldom took any regular meals, unless he had company; but twice or thrice in four and twenty hours ate some bread and cheese, or fruit; instead of which he sometimes took a draught of milk, and then wrote on again. When one reproved him for this, for not allowing himself a sufficiency of necessary food, he replied, with surprise, "Not allow myself food? Why, our food seldom costs my housekeeper and me less than two shillings a week!"

8. Being informed that his health was greatly impaired, I judged nothing was so likely to restore it as a long journey: So I proposed his taking a journey with me into Scotland, to which he willingly consented. We set out in spring, and after travelling eleven or twelve hundred miles, returned to London in autumn. I verily believe, had he travelled with me a few months longer, he would have quite recovered his health; but being stopped by his friends, he quickly relapsed, and fell into a true pulmonary consumption.

9. But this sickness was not unto death; it was only sent that the glory of the Lord might appear. During the whole course of it, he remained at Newington, and was visited by persons of all ranks; and they all marvelled at the grace of God that was in him. In all his pain, no complaint came out of his mouth; but his every breath was spent, either in praising God, or exhorting and comforting his neighbour.

10. When nothing else availed, he was advised to take a journey by sea and by land into his own country. He did this in company with Mr. Ireland, a well-tried and faithful friend, who loved him as a brother, and thought no pains ill bestowed, if he could preserve so valuable a life. He resided in his own country about a year, and was a blessing to all that were round about him. Being much recovered, he spent some months in France, and then returned in perfect health to Madeley.

11. In the year 1781, with the full approbation of all his friends, he married Miss Bosanquet; of whom, as she is still alive, I say no more at present, than that she was the only person in England whom I judged to be worthy of Mr. Fletcher. By her tender and judicious care his health was confirmed more and more; and I am firmly convinced, that had he used this health in travelling all over the kingdom, five, or six, or seven months every year, (for which never was man more eminently qualified; no, not Mr. Whitefield himself,) he would have done more good than any other man in England. I cannot doubt but this would have been the more excellent way. However, though he did not accept of this honour, he did abundance of good in that narrower sphere of action which he chose; and was a pattern well worthy the imitation of all the parochial Ministers in the kingdom.

12. His manner of life during the time that he and his wife lived together, it may be most satisfactory to give in her own words: --

"It is no little grief to me that my dearly beloved husband has left no account of himself in writing; and I am not able to give many particulars of a life the most angelical I have ever known.

"He was born at Nyon, in the Canton of Berne, in Switzerland. In his infancy he discovered a lively genius, and great tenderness of heart. One day, having offended his father, who threatened to correct him, he kept himself at a distance in the garden, till, seeing his father approach, and fearing his anger would be renewed by the sight of him he ran away; but he was presently struck with a deep remorse, thinking, What! Do I run away from my father? What a wicked wretch! It may be, I may live to grow up and have a son that will run away from me!" And it was some years before the impression of sorrow, then made upon him, wore off.

"When he was about seven years old, he was reproved by his nurse-maid saying, You are a naughty boy, and the devil takes all such.' After he was in bed, he began to reflect on her words: His heart smote him, and he said, I am a naughty boy; and perhaps God will let the devil fetch me away." He got up on the bed and for a considerable time wrestled with God in prayer; till he felt such a sense of the love of God as made him quite easy."

Part of the next paragraph I omit, being nearly the same with what I inserted before.

"When he entered Mr. Hill's family, he did not know Christ in his heart. One Sunday evening, as he was writing some music, the servant came in to make up the fire, and, looking at him said, Sir, I am very sorry to see you so employed on the Lord's day.' He immediately put away his music, and from that hour, became a strict observer of that holy day.

"Not long after, he met with a person who asked him to go with her and hear the Methodists. He readily consented. The more he heard, the more uneasy he grew; and, doubling his diligence, he hoped by doing much to render himself acceptable to God; till one day hearing Mr. Green, he was convinced he did not know what true faith was. This occasioned many reflections in his mind. Is it possible,' said he, that I, who have made divinity my study, and have received the premium of piety (so called) from the University for my writings on divine subjects, -- that I should still be so ignorant as not to know what faith is?' But the more he examined, the more he was convinced: Then sin revived, and hope died away. He now sought by the most rigorous austerities, to conquer an evil nature, and bring heaven-born peace into his soul. But the more he struggled, the more he was convinced that all his fallen soul was sin; and that nothing but a revelation of the love of Jesus could make him a Christian. For this he groaned with unwearied assiduity; till one day, after much wrestling with God, lying prostrate on his face before the throne, he felt the application of the blood of Jesus. Now his bonds were broken, and his free soul began to breathe a pure air. Sin was beneath his feet, and he could triumph in the Lord, the God of his salvation.

"From this time he walked valiantly in the ways of God; and, thinking he had not leisure enough in the day, he made it a constant rule to sit up two nights in a week for reading, prayer, and meditation; in order to sink deeper" into that communion with God which was become his soul's delight. Meantime he took only vegetable food; and for above six months, lived wholly on bread, with milk-and-water.

"Not withstanding the nights he sat up, he made it a rule never to sleep as long as he could possibly keep awake. For this purpose he always took a candle and book to bed with him; but one night, being overcome of sleep before he had put out the candle, he dreamed his curtains, pillow, and cap were on fire, without doing him any harm. And so it was: In the morning part of his curtains, pillow, and cap were burnt. But not an hair of his head was singed. So did God give his angels charge over him!

"Some time after, he was favoured with a particular manifestation of the love of God; so powerful, that it appeared to him as if body and soul would be separated. Now all his desires centred in one, that of devoting himself to the service of his precious Master. This he thought he could do best by entering into Orders. God made his way plain, and he soon after settled in Madeley. He received this parish as from the immediate hand of God, and unweariedly laboured therein, and in the adjacent places, till he had spent himself in his Master's service, and was ripening fast for glory. Much opposition he met with for many years, and often his life was in danger. Sometimes he was inwardly constrained to warn obstinate sinners that if they did not repent, the hand of God would cut them off. And the event proved the truth of the prediction. But, notwithstanding all their opposition, many were the seals of his ministry.

"He had an earnest desire that the pure gospel should remain among his people after he was taken away. For this purpose he surmounted great difficulties in building the house in Madeley-Wood. He not only saved for it the last farthing he had, but when he was abroad, proposed to let the Vicarage-house; designing at his return, to live in a little cottage near it, and appropriating the rent of it for clearing that house.

"Since the time I had the honour and happiness of living vith him, every day made me more sensible of the mighty work of the Spirit upon him. The fruits of this were manifest in all his life and conversation; but in nothing more than in his meekness and humility. It was a meekness which no affront could move; an humility which loved to be unknown, forgotten, and despised. [I think this was going to an extreme.] How hard is it to find an eminent person who loves an equal! But his delight was in preferring others to himself. It appeared so natural in him, that it seemed as his meat to set everyone before himself. He spake not of the fault of an absent person but when necessary; and then with the utmost caution. He made no account of his own labours; and perhaps carried to an extreme his dislike of hearing them mentioned.

"Patience is the daughter of humility. In him it discovered itself in a manner which I wish I could either describe or imitate. It produced in him a ready mind to embrace every cross with alacrity and pleasure. And for the good of his neighbour, (the poor in particular,) nothing seemed hard, nothing wearisome. When I have been grieved to call him out of his study, from his closet-work, two or three times in an hour, he would answer, "O, my dear, never think of that; it matters not what we do, so we are always ready to meet the will of God; it is only conformity to this which makes any employment excellent."

"He had a singular love for the lambs of the flock, -- the children; and applied himself with the greatest diligence to their instruction, for which he had a peculiar gift: and this populous parish found him full exercise for it. The poorest met with the same attention from him as the rich. For their sakes he almost grudged himself necessaries, and often expressed a pain in using them, while any of his parish wanted them.

"But while I mention his meekness and love, let me not forget the peculiar favour of his Master in giving him the most firm and resolute courage. In reproving sin and daring sinners, he was a "son of thunder;" and regarded neither fear nor favour, when he had a message from God to deliver.

"With respect to his communion with God, it is much to be lamented that we have no account of it from his own pen. But thus far I can say, it was his constant care to keep an uninterrupted sense of the divine presence. In order to this he was slow of speech, and had the exactest government of his words. To this he was so inwardly attentive, as sometimes to appear stupid to those who knew him not; though few conversed in a more lively manner when he judged it would be for the glory of God. It was his continual endeavour to draw up his own and every other spirit to an immediate intercourse with God; and all his intercourse with me was so mingled with prayer and praise, that every employment and every meal, was, as it were, perfumed therewith. He often said, It is a very little thing so to hang upon God by faith as to feel no departure from him. But I want to be filled with the fullness of his Spirit.' I feel," said he, sometimes such gleams of light, as it were wafts of heavenly air, as seem ready to take my soul with them to glory.' A little before his last illness, when the fever began to rage among us, he preached a sermon on the duty of visiting the sick, wherein he said: What do you fear? Are you afraid of catching the distemper and dying! O, fear it no more! What an honour to die in your Master's work! If permitted to me, I should account it a singular favour.' In his former illness he wrote thus: I calmly wait, in unshaken resignation, for the full salvation of God; ready to venture on his faithful love, and on the sure mercies of David. His time is best, and is my time. Death has lost its sting; and, I bless God, I know not what hurry of spirits is, or unbelieving fears.'

"For his last months, he scarce ever lay down or rose up without these words in his mouth: --

I nothing have, I nothing am;

My treasure's in the bleeding Lamb,

Both now and evermore.

"In one of the letters which he wrote some time since to his dear people of Madeley, some of his words are, "I leave this blessed island for awhile, but I trust I shall never leave the kingdom of God, -- the shadow of Christ's cross, -- the clefts of the Rock, smitten and pierced for us. There I meet you in spirit; thence, I trust, I shall joyfully leap into the ocean of eternity, to go and join those ministering spirits who wait on the heirs of salvation. And if I am no more allowed to minister to you on earth, I rejoice at the thought that I shall perhaps be allowed to accompany the angels who, if you abide in the faith, will be commissioned to carry you into Abraham's bosom.'

"The thought enlivens my faith! Lord give me to walk in his steps! Then shall I see him again, and my heart shall rejoice, and we shall eternally behold the Lamb together. Faith brings near the welcome moment! And now he beckons me away, and Jesus bids me come!"

I know not that anything can or need be added to this, but Mrs. Fletcher's account of his death, which follows also in her own words: --

"For some time before his late illness he was particularly penetrated with the nearness of eternity. There was scarce an hour in which he was not calling upon us to drop every thought and every care, that we might attend to nothing but drinking deeper into God. We spent much time in wrestling with God, and were led in a peculiar manner to abandon our whole selves into the hands of God, to do or suffer whatever was pleasing to him.

On Thursday, August 4, he was employed in the work of God from three in the afternoon till nine at night. When he came home he said, I have taken cold.' On Friday and Saturday he was not well, but seemed uncommonly drawn out in prayer. On Saturday night his fever appeared very strong. I begged him not to go to church in the morning; but he told me, It was the will of the Lord;' in which case I never dared to persuade. In reading Prayers, he almost fainted away. I got through the crowd and entreated him to come out of the desk. But he let me and others know, in his sweet manner, that we were not to interrupt the order of God. I then retired to my pew, where all around me were in tears. When he was a little refreshed by the windows being opened, he went on; and then preached with a strength and recollection that surprised us all.

"After sermon he went up to the communion-table with these words, I am going to throw myself under the wings of the cherubim, before the mercy-seat.' The service held till near two. Sometimes he could scarce stand, and was often obliged to stop. The people were deeply affected; weeping was on every side. Gracious Lord! how was it my soul was kept so calm in the midst of the most tender feelings? Notwithstanding his extreme weakness, he gave out several verses of hymns, and lively sentences of exhortation. When service was over, we hurried him to bed, where he immediately fainted away. He afterward dropped into a sleep for some time, and, on waking, cried out, with a pleasant smile, Now, my dear, thou seest I am no worse for doing the Lord's work: He never fails me when I trust in him." Having got a little dinner, he dozed most of the evening, now and then waking full of the praises of God. At night his fever returned, though not violent; but his strength decreased amazingly. On Monday and Tuesday we had a little paradise together: He lay on a couch in the study, and, though often changing posture, was sweetly pleasant, and frequently slept a good while. When awake he delighted in hearing me read hymns and tracts on faith and love. His words were all animating, and his patience beyond expression. When he had any nauseous medicines to take, he seemed to enjoy the cross, according to a word he used often to repeat, that we are to seek a perfect conformity to the will of God, and leave him to give us what comfort he saw good. I asked him, whether he had any advice to leave me, if he should be taken from me: He replied, I have nothing particular to say: The Lord will open all before thee.' I said, Have you any conviction that God is about to take you?' He said,No; not in particular; only I always see death so inexpressibly near that we both seem to stand on the very verge of eternity.' While he slept a little I besought the Lord, if it was his good pleasure, to spare him to me a little longer; but my prayer seemed to have no wings, and I could not help mingling continually therewith, Lord, give me perfect resignation.' This uncertainty made me tremble, lest God was going to put into my hand the bitter cup which he lately threatened my husband. Some weeks before, I myself was ill of the fever. My husband then felt the whole parting scene, and struggled for perfect resignation. He said: O Polly, shall I ever see the day when thou must be carried out to bury? How will the little things which thy tender care has prepared for me in every part of the house, -- how will they wound and distress me! How is it? I think I feel jealousy! I am jealous of the worms. I seem to shrink at giving my dear Polly to the worms!'

"Now all these reflections returned upon my heart with the weight of a millstone. I cried to the Lord, and those words were deeply impressed on my spirit, "Where I am, there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.' This promise was full of comfort to my soul. I saw that in Christ's immediate presence was our home, and that we should find our re-union in being deeply centred in him. I received it as a fresh marriage for eternity. As such I trust for ever to hold it. All that day, whenever I thought of that expression, to behold my glory,' it seemed to wipe away every tear, and was as the ring whereby we were joined anew.

"Awaking some time after he said: Polly, I have been thinking it was Israel's fault that they asked for signs. We will not do so; but abandoning our whole selves into the hands of God, we will lie patiently before him, assured that he will do all things well.'

"My dear love,' said I, if ever I have done or said anything to grieve thee, how will the remembrance wound my heart, shouldst thou be taken from me!'

"He entreated and charged me, with inexpressible tenderness, not to allow the thought; declaring his thankfulness for our union, in a variety of words written on my heart as with the adamantine pen of friendship, deeply dipped in blood.

"On Wednesday, after groaning all day under the weight of the power of God, he told me he had received such a manifestation of the full meaning of those words, God is love,' as he could never be able to tell. It fills me,' said he, every moment. O Polly, my dear Polly, God is love! Shout, shout aloud! I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the earth! But it seems as if I could not speak much longer. Let us fix on a sign between ourselves;' (tapping me twice with his fingers;) -- now I mean, God is love; and we will draw each other into God. Observe! By this we will draw each other into God!"

"Sally coming in, he cried out: "O Sally, God is love! Shout, both of you. I want to hear you shout his praise.' All this time, the medical friend, who diligently attended him hoped he was in no danger; as he had no bad head-ache, much sleep, without the least delirium, and an almost regular pulse. So was the disease, though commissioned to take his life, restrained by the power of God!

"On Thursday his speech began to fail. While he was able, he spoke to all that came in his way. Hearing a stranger was in the house, he ordered her to be called up, though uttering two sentences almost made him faint. To his friendly doctor he would not be silent while he had any power of speech; saying, O Sir, you take much thought for my body; give me leave to take thought for your soul.' When I could scarce understand anything he said, I spoke these words, God is love.' Instantly, as if all his powers were awakened, he broke out in a rapture, God is love! love! love! O for that gust of praise I want to sound!' -- Here his voice again failed. He suffered many ways, but with such patience as none but those then present can conceive. If I named his sufferings, he would smile, and make the sign.

"On Friday, finding his body covered with spots, I felt a sword pierce through my soul. As I was kneeling by his side, with my hand in his, entreating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous hour, he strove to say many things, but could not; pressing my hand, and often repeating the sign. At last he breathed out, Head of the Church, be Head to my wife!' When, for a few moments, I was forced to leave him, Sally said to him, My dear master, do you know me?' He replied, Sally, God will put his right hand under you.' She added, O my dear master, should you be taken away, what a disconsolate creature will my poor dear mistress be!' He replied, God will be her all in all.' He had always delighted much in these words, --

Jesu's blood, through earth and skies,

Mercy, free, boundless mercy! cries.

Whenever I repeated them to him he would answer, "Boundless! boundless! boundless!' He now added, though with great difficulty,

Mercy's full power I soon shall prove,

Loved with an everlasting love.

"On Saturday afternoon his fever seemed quite off; and a few friends standing near the bed, he reached his hand to each, and, looking on a Minister, said, Are you ready to assist to-morrow?' His recollection surprised us, as the day of the week had not been named in his room. Many believed he would recover; and one said, Do you think the Lord will raise you up?' He strove to answer, saying, Raise me in the resur' -- meaning in the resurrection. To another, asking the same question, he said, I leave it all to God.'

"In the evening the fever returned with violence, and the mucus falling on his throat almost strangled him. It was supposed the same painful emotion would grow more and more violent to the last. As I felt this exquisitely, I cried to the Lord to remove it; and, glory be to his name, he did. From that time, it returned no more. As night drew on, I perceived him dying very fast. His fingers could hardly make the sign (which he scarce ever forgot,) and his speech seemed quite gone. I said, My dear creature, I ask not for myself, I know thy soul; but for the sake of others, if Jesus is very present with thee, lift thy right hand.' He did. If the prospect of glory sweetly opens before thee, repeat the sign.' He immediately raised it again; and, in half a minute, a second time: He then threw it up, as if he would reach the top of the bed. After this, his dear hands moved no more; but on my saving, Art thou in much pain?' he answered, No.' From this time, he lay in a kind of sleep, though with his eyes open and fixed. For the most part he sat upright against pillows, with his head a little inclining to one side; and so remarkably composed and triumphant was his countenance, that the least trace of death was scarce discernible in it.

"Twenty-four hours he was in this situation, breathing like a person in common sleep. About thirty-five minutes past ten, on Sunday night, August 14th, his precious soul entered into the joy of his Lord, without one struggle or groan, in the fifty-sixth year of his age.

"And here I break off my mournful story: But on my bleeding heart the fair picture of his heavenly excellence will be for ever drawn. When I call to mind his ardent zeal, his laborious endeavours to seek and save the lost, his diligence in the employment of his time, his Christ-like condescension toward me, and his uninterrupted converse with heaven, -- I may well be allowed to add, my loss is beyond the power of words to paint. I have gone through deep waters; but all my afflictions were nothing compared to this. Well: I want no pleasant prospect, but upwards; nor anything whereon to fix my hope, but immortality.

"On the 17th, [18th] his dear remains were deposited in Madeley churchyard, amid the tears and lamentations of thousands. The service was performed by the Rev. Mr. Hatton, Rector of Waters-Upton, whom God enabled to speak in a pathetic manner to his weeping flock. In the conclusion, at my request, he read the following paper:

"As it was the desire of my beloved husband to be buried in this plain manner, so, out of tenderness he begged that I might not be present: And in all things I would obey him.

"Permit me then, by the mouth of a friend, to bear my open testimony, to the glory of God, that I who have known him in the most perfect manner, am constrained to declare, that I never knew anyone walk so closely in the ways of God as he did. The Lord gave him a conscience tender as the apple of an eye. He literally preferred the interest of everyone to his own.

"He was rigidly just, but perfectly loose from all attachment to the world. He shared his all with the poor, who lay so close to his heart that at the approach of death, when he could not speak without difficulty, he cried out: O my poor! what will become of my poor?' He was blessed with so great a degree of humility, as is scarce to be found. I am witness, how often he has rejoiced in being treated with contempt. Indeed, it seemed the very food of his soul to be little and unknown. When he desired me to write a line to his brother, if he died; I replying, I will write him all the Lord's dealings with thee;' No, no," said he, write nothing about me. I only desire to be forgotten. God is all.'

His zeal for souls I need not tell you. Let the labours of twenty-five years and a martyr's death in the conclusion, imprint it on your hearts. His diligent visitation of the sick occasioned the fever which, by God's commission, tore him from you and me. And his vehement desire to take his last leave of you, with dying lips and hands, gave, it is supposed, the finishing stroke, by preparing his blood for putrefaction. Thus has he lived and died your servant; and will any of you refuse to meet him at God's right hand in that day?

"He walked with death always in sight. About two months ago he came to me and said, My dear love, I know not how it is, but I have a strange impression death is very near us, as if it would be some sudden stroke upon one of us. And it draws out all my soul in prayer, that we may be ready.' He then broke out: Lord, prepare the soul thou wilt call! And Oh, stand by the poor disconsolate one that shall be left behind!'

"A few days before his departure, he was filled with love in an uncommon manner; saying to me, I have had such a discovery of the depth of that word, God is love, I cannot tell thee half. O shout his praise!' The same he testified, as long as he had a voice, and continued to testify to the end, by a most lamb-like patience, in which he smiled over death, and set his last seal to the glorious truths he had so long preached among you.

"Three years, nine months, and two days, I have possessed my heavenly- minded husband; but now the sun of my earthly joy is set for ever, and my soul filled with an anguish which only finds its consolation in a total resignation to the will of God. When I was asking the Lord, if he pleased, to spare him to me a little longer, the following promise was impressed on my mind with great power: (In the accomplishment of which I look for our re-union:) -- Where I am, there shall my servants be, that they may behold my glory.' Lord, hasten the hour.

There is little need of adding any farther character of this man of God to the foregoing account, given by one who wrote out of the fullness of her heart. I would only observe, that for many years I despaired of finding any inhabitant of Great Britain, that could stand in any degree of comparison with Gregory Lopez or Monsieur de Renty. But let any impartial person judge, if Mr. Fletcher was at all inferior to them. Did he not experience as deep communion with God, and as high a measure of inward holiness, as was experienced either by one or the other of those burning and shining lights? And it is certain his outward holiness shone before men with full as bright a lustre as theirs. But if any should attempt to draw a parallel between them, there are two circumstances that deserve consideration. One is, we are not assured that the writers of their lives did not extenuate, if not suppress, what was amiss in them; and some things amiss we are assured there were, viz., many touches of superstition, and some of idolatry, in worshipping saints, the Virgin Mary in particular: But I have not suppressed or extenuated anything in Mr. Fletcher's character; for, indeed, I knew nothing that was amiss, -- nothing that needed to be extenuated, much less suppressed. A second circumstance is, that the writers of their lives could not have so full a knowledge of them, as both Mrs. Fletcher and I had of Mr. Fletcher; being eye and ear witnesses of his whole conduct. Consequently, we know that his life was not sullied with any mixture of either idolatry or superstition. I was intimately acquainted with him for above thirty years; I conversed with him morning, noon, and night, without the least reserve, during a journey of many hundred miles. And in all that time I never heard him speak one improper word nor saw him do an improper action. -- To conclude: Many exemplary men have I known, holy in heart and life, within fourscore years, but one equal to him I have not known, -- one so inwardly and outwardly devoted to God. So unblamable a character in every respect I have not found either in Europe or America; and I scarce expect to find another such on this side of eternity.

But it is possible we all may be such as he was: Let us then endeavour to follow him as he followed Christ!

Norwich, October 24, 1785

[141] [text from the 1872 edition]

[142] To the Reader: It was a consciousness of my own inability to describe in a manner worthy of the subject such a person as Mr. Fletcher, which was one great reason of my not writing this sooner. I judged only an Apelles was proper to paint an Alexander. But I at length submitted to importunity, and hastily put together some memorials of this great man; intending, if God permit, when I have more leisure and more materials, to write a fuller account of his life (London, Nov. 9, 1785, John Wesley).

Fifth Series

Sermon 134: True Christianity Defended

Sermon 134 [143]

True Christianity Defended [144]

"How is the faithful city become an harlot!"

Isa. 2:21.

1. "When I bring the sword upon a land, saith the Lord, if the watchman blow the trumpet, and warn the people; then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head. But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take away any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at the watchman's hand." (Ezek. 33:2-6.)

2. It cannot be doubted, but that word of the Lord is come unto every Minister of Christ also. "So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel: Therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me. When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die: If thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand."

3. Nor ought any man, therefore, to be accounted our enemy because he telleth us the truth: The doing of which is indeed an instance of love to our neighbour, as well as of obedience to God. Otherwise, few would undertake so thankless a task: For the return they will find, they know already. The Scripture must be fulfilled: "Me the world hateth," saith our Lord, "because I testify of it that the deeds thereof are evil."

4. It is from a full, settled conviction, that I owe this labour of love to my brethren, and to my tender parent, [alma mater: The University of Oxford] by whom I have been nourished for now more than twenty years, and from whom, under God, I have received those advantages of which I trust I shall retain a grateful sense till my spirit returns to God who gave it; it is, I say, from a full conviction that love and gratitude, as well as that dispensation of the gospel wherewith I am entrusted, require it of me, that even I have undertaken to speak on a needful, though unwelcome, subject. I would indeed have wished that some more acceptable person would have done this. But should all hold their peace, the very stones would cry out, "How is the faithful city become an harlot!"

5. How faithful she was once to her Lord, to whom she had been betrothed as a chaste virgin, let not only the writings of her sons, which shall be had in honour throughout all generations, but also the blood of her martyrs, speak; -- a stronger testimony of her faithfulness than could be given by words, even

By all the speeches of the babbling earth.

But how is she now become an harlot! How hath she departed from her Lord! How hath she denied him, and listened to the voice of strangers! both,

I. In respect of doctrine; and,

II. Of practice.

I. In respect of doctrine.

1. It cannot be said that all our writers are setters forth of strange doctrines. There are those who expound the oracles of God by the same Spirit wherewith they were written; and who faithfully cleave to the solid foundation which our Church hath laid agreeable thereto; touching which we have His word who cannot lie, that "the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." There are those also, (blessed be the Author of every good gift!) who, as wise master-builders, build thereon, not hay or stubble, but gold and precious stones, -- but that charity which never faileth.

2. We have likewise cause to give thanks to the Father of Lights, for that he hath not left himself without witness; but that there are those who now preach the gospel of peace, the truth as it is in Jesus. But how few are these in comparison of those (hoi kapeleuontes) who adulterate the word of God! how little wholesome food have we for our souls, and what abundance of poison! how few are there that, either in writing or preaching, declare the genuine gospel of Christ, in the simplicity and purity wherewith it is set forth in the venerable records of our own Church! And how are we inclosed on every side with those who, neither knowing the doctrines of our Church, nor the Scriptures, nor the power of God, have found out to themselves inventions wherewith they constantly corrupt others also!

3. I speak not now of those (prototokoi tou Satana_) first-born of Satan, the Deists, Arians, or Socinians. These are too infamous among us to do any great service to the cause of their master. But what shall we say of those who are accounted the pillars of our Church, and champions of our faith; who, indeed, betray that Church, and sap the very foundations of the faith we are taught thereby?

4. But how invidious a thing it is to show this! Who is sufficient to bear the weight of prejudice which must necessarily follow the very mention of such a charge against men of so established a character? nay, and who have, indeed, in many other respects, done great service to the Church of God? Yet must every faithful Minister say, God forbid that I should accept any mans person! I dare not give any man flattering tithes, nor spare any that corrupt the Gospel. In so doing my Maker would soon take me away.

5. Let me, however, be as short as may be upon this head; and I will instance only in two or three men of renown, who have endeavoured to sap the very foundation of our Church, by attacking its fundamental, and, indeed, the fundamental doctrine of all Reformed Churches; viz., justification by faith alone.

one of these, and one of the highest station in our Church, hath written and printed, before his death, several sermons, expressly to prove, that not faith alone, but good works also, are necessary in order to justification. The unpleasing task of quoting particular passages out of them is superseded by the very title of them; which is this: The Necessity of Regeneration, (which he at large proves to imply holiness both of heart and life,) in order to Justification. [Tillotson's Sermons, Vol. 1.]

6. It may appear strange to some, that an angel of the Church of God, (as the great Shepherd terms the overseers of it,) and one so highly esteemed both in our own and many other nations, should coolly and calmly thus speak. But o, what is he in comparison of the great Bishop Bull! Who shall be able to stand, if this eminent scholar, Christian, and Prelate, in his youth wrote and published to the world, and in his riper years defended, the positions that follow ?

"A man is said (ex ergon dikaioutai) to be justified by works; because good works are the condition, according to the divine appointment, established in the gospel covenant, requisite and necessary to a man's justification; that is, to his obtaining remission of sins through Christ." BULLI Harm. Apost., p. 4.

A little after, being about to produce testimonies in proof of this proposition, he says, "The first class of these shall be those who speak of good works in a general sense, as the requisite and necessary condition of justification." Then follow certain texts of Scripture; after which he adds, "Who does not believe that in these scriptures there is an abundance of good works required, which if a man do not perform, he is altogether excluded from the hope of pardon, and remission of sins?" -- Ibid., p. 6.

Having introduced some other things, he adds, "Besides faith, there is no one but may see that repentance is required as necessary to justification. Now, repentance is not one work alone, but is, as it were, a collection of many others: For in its compass the following works are comprehended: -- (1.) Sorrow on account of sin: (2.) Humiliation under the hand of God: (3.) Hatred to sin: (4.) Confession of sin: (5.) Ardent supplication of the divine mercy: (6.) The love of God: (7.) Ceasing from sin: (8.) Firm purpose of new obedience: (9.) Restitution of ill-gotten goods: (10.) Forgiving our neighbour his transgressions against us: (11.) Works of beneficence, or alms-giving. How much these things avail to procure remission of sins from God is sufficiently evident from Dan. 4:27; where the Prophet gives this wholesome advice to Nebuchadnezzar, who was at that time cleaving to his sins: Redeem [The Bishop translates PRQ -- peruk, with the Vulgate, redeem, or buy off but the proper and literal meaning is, break off. A.C.] your sins by alms-giving, and your iniquities by showing mercy to the poor.'" -- Ibid., p. 10.

7. To instance in one point more: All the Liturgy of the Church is full of petitions for that holiness without which, the Scripture everywhere declares, no man shall see the Lord. And these are all summed up in those comprehensive words which we are supposed to be so frequently repeating: "Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy name." It is evident that in the last clause of this petition, all outward holiness is contained: Neither can it be carried to a greater height, or expressed in stronger terms. And those words, "Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts," contain the negative branch of inward holiness; the height and depth of which is purity of heart, by the inspiration of God's Holy Spirit. The remaining words, "that we may perfectly love thee," contain the positive part of holiness; seeing this love, which is the fulfilling of the law, implies the whole mind that was in Christ.

8. But how does the general stream of writers and Preachers (let me be excused the invidious task of instancing in particular persons) agree with this doctrine? Indeed, not at all. Very few can we find who simply and earnestly enforce it. But very many who write and preach as if Christian holiness, or religion, were a purely negative thing; as if; not to curse or swear, not to lie or slander, not to be a drunkard, a thief; or a whoremonger, not to speak or do evil, was religion enough to entitle a man to heaven! How many, if they go something further than this, describe it only as an outward thing; as if it consisted chiefly, if not wholly, in doing good, (as it is called,) and using the means of grace! Or, should they go a little farther still, yet what do they add to this poor account of religion? Why, perhaps, that a man should be orthodox in his opinions, and have a zeal for the constitution in Church and state. And this is all: This is all the religion they can allow, without degenerating into enthusiasm! So true it is, that the faith of a devil, and the life of a Heathen, make up what most men call a good Christian!

9. But why should we seek further witnesses of this? Are there not many present here who are of the same opinion? who believe that a good moral man, and a good Christian, mean the same thing? that a man need not trouble himself any further, if he only practises as much Christianity as was written over the Heathen Emperor's gate, -- "Do as thou wouldest be done unto;" especially if he be not an infidel, or a heretic, but believes all that the Bible and the Church say is true?

10. I would not be understood, as if I despised these things, as if I undervalued right opinions, true morality, or a zealous regard for the constitution we have received from our fathers. Yet what are these things, being alone? What will they profit us in that day? What will it avail to tell the Judge of all) "Lord, I was not as other men were; not unjust, not an adulterer, not a liar, not an immoral man?" Yea, what will it avail, if we have done all good, as well as done no harm, -- if we have given all our goods to feed the poor, -- and have not charity? How shall we then look on those who taught us to sleep on and take our rest, though "the love of the Father was not in us?" or who, teaching us to seek salvation by works, cut us off from receiving that faith freely, whereby alone the love of God could have been shed abroad in our hearts?

To these miserable corrupters of the gospel of Christ, and the poison they have spread abroad, is chiefly owing,

II. Secondly, that general corruption in practice as well as in doctrine. There is hardly to be found (O tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon!) either the form of godliness, or the power! So is "the faithful city become an harlot!"

1. With grief of heart I speak it, and not with joy, that scarcely is the form of godliness seen among us. We are all indeed called to be saints, and the very name of Christians means no less. But who has so much as the appearance? Take any one you meet; take a second, a third, a fourth, or the twentieth. Not one of them has even the appearance of a saint, any more than of an angel. Observe his look, his air, his gesture! Does it breathe nothing but God? Does it bespeak a temple of the Holy Ghost? Observe his conversation; not an hour only, but day by day. Can you gather from any outward sign, that God dwelleth in his heart? that this is an everlasting spirit, who is going to God? Would you imagine that the blood of Christ was shed for that soul, and had purchased everlasting salvation for it; and that God was now waiting till that salvation should be wrought out with fear and trembling?

2. Should it be said, "Why, what signifies the form of godliness?" we readily answer, Nothing, if it be alone. But the absence of the form signifies much. It infallibly proves the absence of the power. For though the form may be without the power, yet the power cannot be without the form. Outward religion may be where inward is not; but if there is none without, there can be none within.

3. But it may be said, "We have public prayers both morning and evening in all our Colleges." It is true; and it were to be wished that all the members thereof; more especially the elder, those of note and character, would, by constantly attending them, show how sensible they are of the invaluable privilege. But have all who attend them the form of godliness? Before those solemn addresses to God begin, does the behaviour of all who are present show that they know before whom they stand? What impression appears to be left on their minds when those holy offices are ended? And even during their continuance, can it be reasonably inferred from the tenor of their outward behaviour, that their hearts are earnestly fixed on Him who standeth in the midst of them? I much fear, were a Heathen, who understood not our tongue, to come into one of these our assemblies, he would suspect nothing less than that we were pouring out our hearts before the Majesty of heaven and earth. What then shall we say, (if indeed "God is not mocked,") but, "What a man soweth, that also shall he reap?"

4. "On Sundays, however," say some, "it cannot be denied that we have the form of godliness, having sermons preached both morning and afternoon, over and above the morning and evening Service." But do we keep the rest of the Sabbath-day holy? Is there no needless visiting upon it? no trifling, no impertinence of conversation? Do neither you yourself do any unnecessary work upon it, nor suffer others over whom you have any power, to break the laws of God and man herein? If you do, even in this you have nothing whereof to boast. But herein also you are guilty before God.

5. But if we have the form of godliness on one day in a week, is there not on other days what is quite contrary thereto? Are not the best of our conversing hours spent in foolish talking and jesting, which are not convenient? nay, perhaps, in wanton talking too; such as modest ears could not hear? Are there not many among us found to eat and drink with the drunken? And if so, what marvel is it that our profaneness should also go up into the heavens, and our oaths and curses into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth?

6. And even as to the hours assigned for study, are they generally spent to any better purpose? Not if they are employed in reading (as is too common) plays, novels, or idle tales, which naturally tend to increase our inbred corruption, and heat the furnace of our unholy desires seven times hotter than it was before? How little preferable is the laborious idleness of those who spend day after day in gaming or diversions, vilely casting away that time the value of which they cannot know, till they are passed through it into eternity!

7. Know ye not then so much as this, you that are called moral men, that all idleness is immorality; that there is no grosser dishonesty than sloth; that every voluntary blockhead is a knave? He defrauds his benefactors, his parents, and the world; and robs both God and his own soul. Yet how many of these are among us! How many lazy drones, as if only fruges consumere nati! "born to eat up the produce of the soil." How many whose ignorance is not owing to incapacity, but to mere laziness! How few, (let it not seem immodest that even such a one as I should touch on that tender point,) of the vast number who have it in their power, are truly learned men Not to speak of the other eastern tongues, who is there that can be said to understand Hebrew? Might I not say, or even Greek? A little of Homer or Xenophon we may still remember; but how few can readily read or understand so much as a page of Clemens Alexandrinus, Chrysostom, or Ephrem Syrus? And as to philosophy, (not to mention mathematics, or the abstruser branches of it,) how few do we find who have laid the foundation, -- who are masters even of logic; who thoroughly understand so much as the rules of syllogizing; the very doctrine of the moods and figures! O what is so scarce as learning, save religion!

8. And indeed learning will be seldom found without religion; for temporal views, as experience shows, will very rarely suffice to carry one through the labour required to be a thorough scholar. Can it then be dissembled, that there is too often a defect in those to whom the care of youth is entrusted? Is that solemn direction sufficiently considered, (Statut. p. 7,) "Let the tutor diligently instruct those scholars committed to his care in strict morality; and especially in the first principles of religion, and in the articles of doctrine?"

And do they, to whom this important charge is given, labour diligently to lay this good foundation? to fix true principles of religion in the minds of youth entrusted with them by their lectures? to recommend the practice thereof by the powerful and pleasing influence of their example? to enforce this by frequent private advice, earnestly and strongly inculcated? to observe the progress, and carefully inquire into the behaviour, of every one of them? in a word, to watch over their souls as they that must give account?

9. Suffer me, since I have begun to speak upon this head, to go a little farther. Is there sufficient care taken that they should know and keep the statutes which we are all engaged to observe? How then is it that they are so notoriously broken every day? To instance only in a few:

It is appointed, as to divine offices and preaching, "That ALL shall publicly attend: -- Graduates and scholars shall attend punctually, and continue till all be finished with due reverence from the beginning to the end." (P. 181.)

It is appointed, "That scholars of every rank shall abstain from all kinds of play where money is contended for; such as cards, dice, and bowls; nor shall they be present at public games of this nature." (P. 157.)

It is appointed, "That all (the sons of noblemen excepted) shall accustom themselves to black or dark-coloured clothing; and that they shall keep at the utmost distance from pomp and extravagance." (P. 157.)

It is appointed, "That scholars of every rank shall abstain from alehouses, inns, taverns, and from every place within the city where wine, or any other kind of liquor, is ordinarily sold." (P. 164.)

10. It will be objected, perhaps, that "these are but little things." Nay, but perjury is not a little thing; nor, consequently, the wilful breach of any rule which we have solemnly sworn to observe. Surely those who speak thus have forgotten those words: "Thou shalt pledge thy faith to observe all the statutes of this University. So help thee God, and the holy Inspired Gospels of Christ!" (P. 229.)

11. But is this oath sufficiently considered by those who take it; or any of those prescribed by public authority? Is not this solemn act of religion, the calling God to record on our souls, commonly treated as a slight thing? in particular by those who swear by the living God, that "neither entreaties nor reward, neither hatred nor friendship, neither hope nor fear, induce them to give a testimony to any unworthy person?" (P. 88; ) and by those who swear, "I know this person to be meet and fit in morals and knowledge for that high degree to which he is presented?" (P. 114.)

12. Yet one thing more. We have all testified before God, "that all and every the Articles of our Church, as also the Book of Common Prayer, and the ordaining of Bishops, Priests, and Deacons, are agreeable to the word of God." And, in so doing, we have likewise testified, "that both the First and the Second Book of Homilies doth contain godly and wholesome doctrine." But upon what evidence have many of us declared this? Have we not affirmed the thing we know not. If so, however true they may happen to be, we are found false witnesses before God. Have the greater part of us ever used any means to know whether these things are so or not? Have we ever, for one hour, seriously considered the Articles to which we have subscribed? If not, how shamefully do we elude the design of the very compilers, who compiled them "to remove difference of opinion, and to establish unanimity in the true religion!"

13. Have we half of us read over the Book of Common Prayer, and of ordaining Bishops, Priests, and Deacons? If not, what is it we have so solemnly confirmed? In plain terms, we cannot tell. And as to the two Books of Homilies, it is well if a tenth part of those who have subscribed to them, I will not say, had considered them before they did this, but if they have even read them over to this day! Alas, my brethren! How shall we reconcile these things even to common honesty, to plain heathen morality? So far are those who do them, nay, and perhaps defend them too, from having even the form of Christian godliness!

14. But, waving all these things, where is the power? Who are the living witnesses of this? Who among us (let God witness with our hearts) experimentally knows the force of inward holiness? Who feels in himself the workings of the Spirit of Christ, drawing up his mind to high and heavenly things? Who can witness, -- "The thoughts of my heart God hath cleansed by the inspiration of his Holy Spirit?" Who knoweth that "peace of God which passeth all understanding?" Who is he that "rejoiceth with joy unspeakable and full of glory?" Whose "affections are set on things above, not on things of the earth?" Whose "life is hid with Christ in God?" Who can say, "I am crucified with Christ; yet I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me; and the life that I now live in the body, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me?" In whose heart is the "love of God shed abroad, by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him?"

15. Is not almost the very notion of this religion lost? Is there not a gross overflowing ignorance of it? Nay, is it not utterly despised? Is it not wholly set at nought, and trodden under foot? Were any one to witness these things before God, would he not be accounted a madman, an enthusiast? Am not I unto you a barbarian who speak thus? My brethren, my heart bleeds for you. O that you would at length take knowledge, and understand that these are the words of truth and soberness! O that you knew, at least in this your day, the things that make for your peace!

16. I have been a messenger of heavy tidings this day. But the love of Christ constraineth me; and to me it was the less grievous, because for you it was safe. I desire not to accuse the children of my people. Therefore, neither do I speak thus in the ears of them that sit on the wall; but to you I endeavour to speak the truth in love, as a faithful Minister of Jesus Christ. And I can now "call you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men. For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God."

17. May the God of all grace, who is longsuffering, of tender mercy, and repenteth him of the evil, fix these things in your hearts, and water the seed he hath own with the dew of heaven! May he correct whatsoever he seeth amiss in us! May he supply whatsoever is wanting! May he perfect that which is according to his will; and so establish, strengthen, and settle us, that this place may again be a faithful city to her Lord; yea, the praise of the whole earth!

[143] [text from the 1872 edition]

[144] [The following Sermon was found in a mutilated manuscript among Mr. Wesley's papers. It is dated June 24, 1741. A Latin copy of the same Discourse has also been discovered. Mr. Pawson, with great care, copied the former, and I have supplied the deficiencies out of the latter. On collating both Sermons, I find several variations, and though not of any great importance, yet sufficient, in my judgment, to vindicate the propriety of translating and publishing the Latin one, not merely as a matter of curiosity, but of utility. The Sermon, no doubt, was written with the design of being preached before the University of Oxford; but whether it ever were preached there, cannot be determined. A. Clarke.]

Sermon 135: On Mourning for the Dead

Sermon 135 [145]

On Mourning for the Dead [146]

"Now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."

2 Sam. 12:23.

The resolution of a wise and good man, just recovering the use of his reason and virtue, after the bitterness of soul he had tasted from the hourly expectation of the death of a beloved son, is comprised in these few but strong words. He had fasted and wept, and lay all night upon the earth, and refused not only comfort, but even needful sustenance, whilst the child was still alive, in hopes that God would be gracious, as well in that as in other instances, and reverse the just sentence he had pronounced. When it was put in execution, in the death of the child, he arose and changed his apparel, having first paid his devotions to his great Master, acknowledging, no doubt, the mildness of his severity, and owning, with gratitude and humility, the obligation laid upon him, in that he was not consumed, as well as chastened, by his heavy hand; he then came into his house, and behaved with his usual composure and cheerfulness. The reason of this strange alteration in his proceedings, as it appeared to those who were ignorant of the principles upon which he acted, he here explains, with great brevity, but in the most beautiful language, strength of thought, and energy of expression: "Now he is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me."

"To what end," saith the resigned mourner, "should I fast, now the child is dead? Why should I add grief to grief; which, being a volunteer, increases the affliction I already sustain? Would it not be equally useless to him and me? Have my tears or complaints the power to refix his soul in her decayed and forsaken mansion? Or, indeed, would he wish to change, though the power were in his hands, the happy regions of which lie is now possessed, for this land of care, pain, and misery? O vain thought! Never can he, never will he, return to me: Be it my comfort, my constant comfort, when my sorrows bear hard upon me, that I shall shortly, very shortly, go to him! that I shall soon awake from this tedious dream of life, which will soon be at an end; and then shall I gaze upon him; then shall I behold him again, and behold him with that perfect love, that sincere and elevated affection, to which even the heart of a parent is here a stranger! when the Lord God shall wipe away all tears from my eyes; and the least part of my happiness shall be that the sorrow of absence shall flee away!"

The unprofitable and bad consequences, the sinful nature, of profuse sorrowing for the dead, are easily deduced from the former part of this reflection; in the latter, we have the strongest motives to enforce our striving against it, -- a remedy exactly suited to the disease, -- a consideration which, duly applied, will not fail, either to prevent this sorrow, or rescue us from this real misfortune.

Grief, in general, is the parent of so much evil, and the occasion of so little good to mankind, that it may be justly wondered how it found a place in our nature. It was, indeed, of man's own, not of God's creation; who may permit, but never was the author of, evil. The same hour gave birth to grief and sin, as the same moment will deliver us from both. For neither did exist before human nature was corrupted, nor will it continue when that is restored to its ancient perfection.

Indeed, in this present state of things, that wise Being, who knows well how to extract good out of evil, has shown us one way of making this universal frailty highly conducive both to our virtue and happiness. Even grief, if it lead us to repentance, and proceed from a serious sense of our faults, is not to be repented of; since those who thus sow in tears shall reap in joy. If we confine it to this particular occasion, it does not impair, but greatly assist, our imperfect reason; pain, either of body or mind, acting quicker than reflection, and fixing more deeply in the memory any circumstance it attends.

From the very nature of grief; which is an uneasiness in the mind on the apprehension of some present evil, it appears, that its arising in us, on any other occasion than that of sin, is entirely owing to our want of judgment. Are any of those accidents, in the language of men termed misfortunes, such as reproach, poverty, loss of life, or even of friends, real evils? So far from it, that, if we dare believe our Creator, they are often positive blessings. They all work together for our good. And our Lord accordingly commands us, even when the severest loss, that of our reputation, befals us, if it is in a good cause, as it must be our own fault if it be not, to "rejoice, and be exceeding glad."

But what fully proves the utter absurdity of almost all our grief; except that for our own failings, is, that the occasion of it is always past before it begins. To recal what has already been, is utterly impossible, and beyond the reach of Omnipotence itself. Let those who are fond of misery, if any such there be, indulge their minds in this fruitless inquietude. They who desire happiness will have a care how they cherish such a passion, as is neither desirable in itself; nor serves to any good purpose, present or future.

If any species of this unprofitable passion be more particularly useless than the rest, it is that which we feel when we sorrow for the dead. We destroy the health of our body, and impair the strength of our minds, and take no price for those invaluable blessings; we give up our present, without any prospect of future, advantage; without any probability of either recalling them hither, or profiting them where they are.

As it is an indifferent proof of our wisdom, it is still a worse of our affection for the dead. It is the property of envy, not of love, to repine at another's happiness; to weep, because all tears are wiped from their eyes. Shall it disturb us, who call ourselves his friends, that a weary wanderer has at length come to his wished-for home? Nay, weep we rather for ourselves, who still want that happiness; even to whom that rest appeareth yet in prospect.

Gracious is our God and merciful, who, knowing what is in man, that passion, when it has conquered reason, always takes the appearance of it, lest we should be misled by this appearance, adds the sanction of his unerring commands to the natural dictates of our own understanding. The judgment, perhaps, might be so clouded by passion, as to think it reasonable to be profuse in our sorrow at parting from a beloved object; but Revelation tells us, that all occurrences of life must be borne with patience and moderation, -- otherwise we lay a greater weight on our own souls than external accidents can do without our concurrence, with humility, -- because from the offended justice of God we might well have expected he would have inflicted much worse, and with resignation, -- because we know, whatsoever happens is for our good; and although it were not, we are not able to contend with, and should not therefore provoke, Him that is stronger than we.

Against this fault, which is inconsistent with those virtues, and, therefore, tacitly forbidden in the precepts that enjoin them, St. Paul warns us in express words: "I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep; that ye sorrow not, even as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also who sleep in Jesus will God bring with him: -- Wherefore, comfort one another with these words." (1 Thess. 4:13, 14, 18.) And these, indeed, are the only words which can give lasting comfort to a spirit whom such an occasion hath wounded. Why should I be so unreasonable, so unkind, as to desire the return of a soul now in happiness to me, -- to this habitation of sin and misery; since I know that the time will come, yea, is now at hand, when, in spite of the great gulf fixed between us, I shall shake off these chains and go to him?

What he was, I am both unable to paint in suitable colours, and unwilling to attempt it. Although the chief; at least the most common, argument for those laboured encomiums on the dead, which for many years have so much prevailed among us, is, that there can be no suspicion of flattery; yet we all know, that the pulpit, on those occasions, has been so frequently prostituted to those servile ends, that it is now no longer capable of serving them. Men take it for granted, that what is there said are words of course; that the business of the speaker is to describe the beauty, not the likeness, of the picture; and, so it be only well drawn, he cares not whom it resembles: In a word, that his business is to show his own wit, not the generosity of his friend, by giving him all the virtues he can think on.

This, indeed, is an end that is visibly served in those ill-timed commendations; of what other use they are, it is hard to say. It is of no service to the dead to celebrate his actions; since he has the applause of God and his holy angels, and also that of his own conscience. And it is of very little use to the living; since he who desires a pattern may find enough proposed as such in the sacred writings. What! must one be raised from the dead to instruct him, whilst Moses, the Prophets, and the blessed Jesus are still presented to his view in those everlasting tables? Certain it is, that he who will not imitate these, would not be converted, though one literally rose from the dead.

Let it suffice to have paid my last duty to him, (whether he is now hovering over these lower regions, or retired already to the mansions of eternal glory,) by saying, in a few plain words, such as were his own, and were always agreeable to him, that he was to his parents an affectionate, dutiful son; to his acquaintance, an ingenuous, cheerful, good-natured companion; and to me, a well-tried, sincere friend.

At such a loss, if considered without the alleviating circumstances, who can blame him that drops a tear? The tender meltings of a heart dissolved with fondness, when it reflects on the several agreeable moments which have now taken their flight never to return, give an authority to some degree of sorrow. Nor will human frailty permit an ordinary acquaintance to take his last leave of them without it. Who then can conceive, much less describe, the strong emotion, the secret workings of soul which a parent feels on such an occasion? None, surely, but those who are parents themselves; unless those few who have experienced the power of friendship; than which human nature, on this side of the grave, knows no closer, no softer, no stronger tie!

At the tearing asunder of these sacred bands, well may we allow, without blame, some parting pangs; but the difficulty is, to put as speedy a period to them as reason and religion command us. What can give us sufficient ease after that rupture, which has left such an aching void in our breasts? What, indeed, but the reflection already mentioned, which can never be inculcated too often, -- that we are hastening to him ourselves; that, pass but a few years, perhaps hours, which will soon be over, and not only this, but all other desires will be satisfied; when we shall exchange the gaudy shadow of pleasure we have enjoyed, for sincere, substantial, untransitory happiness?

With this consideration well imprinted in our minds, it is far better, as Solomon observes, to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting The one embraces the soul, disarms our resolution, and lays us open to an attack: The other cautions us to recollect our reason, and stand upon our guard and infuses that noble steadiness, and seriousness of temper, which it is not in the power of an ordinary stroke to discompose. Such objects naturally induce us to lay it to heart, that the next summons may be our own; and that since death is the end of all men without exception, it is high time for the living to lay it to heart.

If we are, at any time, in danger of being overcome by dwelling too long on the gloomy side of this prospect, to the giving us pain, the making us unfit for the duties and offices of life, impairing our faculties of body or mind, -- which proceedings, as has been already shown, are both absurd, unprofitable, and sinful; let us immediately recur to the bright side, and reflect, with gratitude as well as humility, that our time passeth away like a shadow; and that, when we awake from this momentary dream, we shall then have a clearer view of that latter day in which our Redeemer shall stand upon the earth; when this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall be clothed with immortality; and when we shall sing, with the united choirs of men and angels, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"

[145] [text from the 1872 edition]

[146] Preached at Epworth, January 11, 1726, at the Funeral of John Griffith: A Hopeful Young Man.

Sermon 136: On Corrupting the Word Of God

Sermon 136 [147]

On Corrupting the Word Of God [148]

"We are not as many, who corrupt the word of God: But as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ."

2 Cor. 2:17.

[1.] Many have observed, that nothing conduces more to a Preacher's success with those that hear him, than a general good opinion of his sincerity. Nothing gives him a greater force of persuasion than this; nothing creates either a greater attention in the hearers or a greater disposition to improve. When they really believe he has no end in speaking, but what he fairly carries in view, and that he is willing that they should see all the steps he takes for the attainment of that end, -- it must give them a strong presumption, both that what he seeks is good, and the method in which he seeks it.

[2.] But how to possess them with this belief is the question. How shall we bring them to take notice of our sincerity, if they do not advert to it of themselves? One good way, however common, is, frankly and openly to profess it. There is something in these professions, when they come from the heart, strongly insinuating into the hearts of others. The persons of any generosity that hear them find themselves almost forced to believe them; and even those who believe them not are obliged in prudence, not to let their incredulity appear, since it is a known rule, -- the honester any man is, the less apt is he to suspect another. The consequence whereof is plain: Whoever without proof, is suspicious of his neighbour's sincerity, gives a probable proof that he judges of his heart from the falseness of his own.

[3.] Would not any man be tempted to suspect his integrity, who, without proof, suspected the want of it in another, that had fairly and openly professed the principles on which he acted? Surely none, but who himself corrupted the word of God, or wished that it were corrupted, could lightly suspect either St. Paul of doing it, or any that after him should use his generous declaration: "We are not as many, who corrupt the word of God: But as of sincerity, but as of God, in the sight of God speak we in Christ."

[4.] Not that the Apostle, any more than his followers in preaching the gospel, desires they should wholly rely on his words; for afterwards he appeals to his actions to confirm them. And those who in this can imitate him need not entreat men to believe their sincerity. If our works bear the stamp of it, as well as our words, both together will speak so loudly and plainly, every unprejudiced person must understand that we speak in Christ, as in sincerity, and that in so doing we consider we are in the sight of that God whose commission we bear.

[5.] Those whom the Apostle accuses of the contrary practice, of corrupting the word of God, seem to have been Jews, who owning Jesus to be Christ, and his gospel to be divine, yet adulterated it, by intermingling with it the law of Moses, and their own traditions. And in doing this, their principal view was to make a gain of Christ; which, consequently, laid them under a necessity of concealing the end they proposed, as well as the means they used to obtain it. On the contrary, those who intend the good of mankind, are by no means concerned to hide their intentions. If the benefit we propose in speaking be to ourselves, it is often our interest to keep it private. If the benefit we propose be to others, it is always our interest to make it public; and it is the interest both of ourselves and others, to make public those marks of distinction whence may clearly be known who corrupt the word of God, and who preach it in sincerity.

[I. 1.] The First and great mark of one who corrupts the word of God, is, introducing into it human mixtures; either the errors [heresies] of others, or the fancies of his own brain. To do this, is to corrupt it in the highest degree; to blend with the oracles of God, impure dreams, fit only for the mouth of the devil! And yet it has been so frequently done, that scarce ever was any erroneous [heretical] opinion either invented or received, but Scripture was quoted to defend it. [2.] And when the imposture was too bare-faced, and the text cited for it appeared too plainly either to make against it, or to be nothing to the purpose, then recourse has usually been had to a Second method of corrupting it, by mixing it with false interpretations. And this is done, sometimes by repeating the words wrong; and sometimes by repeating them right, but putting a wrong sense upon them; one that is either strained and unnatural, or foreign to the writer's intention in the place from whence they are taken; perhaps contrary either to his intention in that very place, or to what he says in some other part of his writings. And this is easily effected: Any passage is easily perverted, by being recited singly, without any of the preceding or following verses. By this means it may often seem to have one sense, when it will be plain, by observing what goes before and what follows after, that it really has the direct contrary: For want of observing which, unwary souls are liable to be tossed about with every wind of doctrine, whenever they fall into the hand of those who have enough of wickedness and cunning, thus to adulterate what they preach, and to add now and then a plausible comment to make it go down the more easily.

[3.] A Third sort of those who corrupt the Word of God, though in a lower degree than either of the former, are those who do so, not by adding to it, but taking from it; who take either of the spirit or substance of it away, while they study to prophesy only smooth things, and therefore palliate and colour what they preach, to reconcile it to the taste of the hearers. And that they may do this the better, they commonly let those parts go that will admit of no colouring. They wash their hands of those stubborn texts that will not bend to their purpose, or that too plainly touch on the reigning vices of the place where they are. These they exchange for those more soft and tractable ones, that are not so apt to give offence. Not one word must be said of the tribulation and anguish denounced against sinners in general; much less of the unquenchable fire, which, if God be true, awaits several of those particular offences that have fallen within their own notice. These tender parts are not to be touched without danger by them who study to recommend themselves to men; or, if they are, it must be with the utmost caution, and a nice evasion in reserve. But they safely may thunder against those who are out of their reach, and against those sins which they suppose none that hear them are guilty of. No one takes it to heart, to hear those practices laid open which he is not concerned in himself. But when the stroke comes home, when it reaches his own case, then is he, if not convinced, displeased, or angry, and out of patience.

These are the methods of those corrupters of the word, who act in the sight of men, not of God. He trieth the hearts, and will receive no service in which the lips only are concerned. But their words have no intercourse with their thoughts. Nor is it proper for them that they should. For if their real intention once appeared, it must make itself unsuccessful. They purpose, it is true, to do good by the gospel of Christ; but it is to themselves, not to others. Whereas they that use sincerity in preaching the gospel, in the good of others seek their own. And that they are sincere, and speak as commissioned officers, in the sight of Him whose commission they bear, plainly appears from the direct contrariety between their practice, and that of the dissemblers above described.

[II. 1.] First. Consider, it is not their own word they preach, but the word of Him that sent them. They preach it genuine and unmixed. As they do not only profess, but really believe, that, "if any man add unto the word of God, He will add unto him all the plagues that are written in it," they are fearful of doing it in the least instance. You have the gospel from them, if in a less elegant manner, yet fair, and as it is; without any mixture of errors [heresy] to pollute it, or misinterpretation to perplex it; [2.] explained in the most natural, obvious manner, by what precedes and what follows the place in question; and commented on by the most sure way, the least liable to mistake or corruption, the producing of those parallel places that express the same thing the more plainly.

[3.] In the next place, they are as cautious of taking from, as of adding to, the word they preach. They dare no more, considering in whose sight they stand, say less, than [or] more, than He has assigned them. They must publish, as proper occasions offer, all that is contained in the oracles of God; whether smooth or otherwise, it matters nothing, since it is unquestionably true, and useful too: "For all Scripture is given by inspiration of God; and is profitable either for doctrine, or reproof, or correction, or instruction in righteousness," -- either to teach us what we are to believe or practise, or for conviction of error, reformation of vice. They know that there is nothing superfluous in it, relating either to faith or practice; and therefore they preach all parts of it, though those more frequently and particularly which are more particularly wanted where they are. They are so far from abstaining to speak against any vice because it is fashionable and in repute in the place Providence has allotted them; but for that very reason they are more zealous in testifying against it. They are so far from abstaining from speaking for any virtue because it is unfashionable and in disrepute where they are placed, that they therefore the more vigorously recommend it.

[4.] Lastly. They who speak in sincerity, and as in the sight of Him who deputes them, show that they do so, by the manner in which they speak. They speak with plainness and boldness, and are not concerned to palliate their doctrine, to reconcile it to the tastes of men. They endeavour to set it always in a true light, whether it be a pleasing one or not. They will not, they dare not, soften a threatening, so as to prejudice its strength, neither represent sin in such mild colours as to impair its native blackness. Not that they do not choose mildness, when it is likely to be effectual. Though they know "the terrors of the Lord," they desire rather to "persuade men." This method they use, and love to use it, with such as are capable of persuasion. With such as are not, they are obliged, if they will be faithful, to take the severer course. Let the revilers look to that; it harms not them: and if they are blamed or reviled for so doing, let the revilers look to that: Let the hearers accommodate themselves to the word; the word is not, in this sense, to be accommodated to the hearers. The Preacher of it would be no less in fault, in a slavish obsequiousness on one side, than in an unrelenting sternness on the other.

[III. 1.] If, then, we have spoken the word of God, the genuine unmixed word of God, and that only; if we have put no unnatural interpretation upon it, but [have] taken the known phrases in their common, obvious sense, -- and when they were less known, explained scripture by scripture; if we have spoken the whole word, as occasion offered, though rather the parts which seemed most proper to give a check to some fashionable vice, or to encourage the practice of some unfashionable virtue; and if we have done this plainly and boldly, though with all the mildness and gentleness that the nature of the subject will bear; -- then, believe ye our works, if not our words; or rather, believe them both together. Here is all a Preacher can do; all the evidence that he either can or need give of his good intentions. There is no way but this to show he speaks as of sincerity, as commissioned by the Lord, and as in his sight. If there be any who, after all this, will not believe that it is his concern, not our own, we labour for; that our first intention in speaking, is to point him the way to happiness, and to disengage him from the great road that leads to misery; we are clear of the blood of that man; -- it rests on his own head. For thus saith the Lord, who hath set us as watchmen over the souls of our countrymen and brethren: "If thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it;" -- much more if we use all methods possible to convince him that the warning is of God; -- "if he do not turn from his way," -- which certainly he will not, if he do not believe that we are in earnest, -- "he shall die in his iniquity, but thou hast delivered thine own soul." [Section numbers (and other bracketed insertions of more significant textual variants) follow the Bicentennial Edition.]

[147] [text from the 1872 edition]

[148] Preached about the year 1728

Sermon 137: On the Resurrection of the Dead

Sermon 137 [149]

On the Resurrection of the Dead [150] [151]

"But some man will say, how are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?"

1 Cor. 15:35.

The Apostle having, in the beginning of this chapter, firmly settled the truth of our Saviour's resurrection, adds, "Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some among you, that there is no resurrection of the dead?" It cannot now any longer seem impossible to you that God should raise the dead; since you have so plain an example of it in our Lord, who was dead and is alive; and the same power which raised Christ must also be able to quicken our mortal bodies.

"But some man will say, How are the dead raised up? And with what body do they come?" How can these things be? How is it possible that these bodies should be raised again, and joined to their several souls, which many thousands of years ago were either buried in the earth, or swallowed up in the sea, or devoured by fire? -- which have mouldered into the finest dust, --that dust scattered over the face of the earth, dispersed as far as the heavens are wide; -- nay, which has undergone ten thousand changes, has fattened the earth, become the food of other creatures, and these again the food of other men? How is it possible that all these little parts, which made up the body of Abraham, should be again ranged together, and, unmixed with the dust of other bodies, be all placed in the same order and posture that they were before, so as to make up the very self-same body which his soul at his death forsook? Ezekiel was indeed, in a vision, set down in a valley full of dry bones, "and he heard a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone; the sinews and the flesh came upon them, and the skin covered them above, and breath came into them, and they lived, and stood upon their feet." This might be in a vision. But that all this, and much more, should in time come to pass; that our bones, after they are crumbled into dust, should really become living men; that all the little parts whereof our bodies were made, should immediately, at a general summons, meet again, and every one challenge and possess its own place, till at last the whole be perfectly rebuilt; that this, I say, should be done, is so incredible a thing, that we cannot so much as have any notion of it. And we may observe, that the Gentiles were most displeased with this article of the Christian faith; it was one of the last things the Heathens believed; and it is to this day the chief objection to Christianity, "How are the dead raised up? With what body do they come?" In my discourse on these words, I shall do three things: --

I. I shall show, that the resurrection of the self-same body that died and was buried, contains nothing in it incredible or impossible.

II. I shall describe the difference which the Scripture makes between the qualities of a glorified and a mortal body.

III.

I shall draw some inferences from the whole.

I. I shall show, that the resurrection of the self-same body that died, contains nothing in it incredible or impossible.

But before I do this, it may be proper to mention some of the reasons upon which this article of our faith is built.

And, 1. The plain notion of a resurrection requires, that the self-same body that died should rise again. Nothing can be said to be raised again, but that very body that died. If God give to our souls at the last day a new body, this cannot be called the resurrection of our body; because that word plainly implies the fresh production of what was before.

2. There are many places of Scripture that plainly declare it. St. Paul, in the 53d verse of this chapter, tells us that "this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." [1 Cor. 15:53] Now, by this mortal, and this corruptible, can only be meant, that body which we now carry about with us, and shall one day lay down in the dust.

The mention which the Scripture makes of the places where the dead shall rise, further shows, that the same body which died shall rise. Thus we read in Daniel: "Those that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake; some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." And, we may likewise observe, that the very phrase, of sleep and awake, implies, that when we rise again from the dead, our bodies will be as much the same as they are when we awake from sleep. Thus, again, our Lord affirms, (John 5:28, 29, ) "The hour is coming in which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good to the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation." Now, if the same body do not rise again, what need is there of opening the graves at the end of the world? The graves can give up no bodies but those which were laid in them. If we were not to rise with the very same bodies that died, then they might rest for ever. To this we need only add that of St. Paul: "The Lord shall change this vile body, that it may be fashioned like unto his glorious body. Now, this vile body can be no other than that with which we are flow clothed, which must be restored to life again.

That in all this there is nothing incredible or impossible, I shall show by proving these three things: -- 1. That it is possible for God to keep and preserve unmixed, from all other bodies, the particular dust into which our several bodies are dissolved, and can gather and join it again, how far soever dispersed asunder. 2. That God can form that dust so gathered together, into the same body as it was before. 3. That when he hath formed this body, he can enliven it with the same soul that before inhabited it.

1. God can distinguish and keep unmixed from all other bodies the particular dust into which our several bodies are dissolved, and can gather it together and join it again, how far soever dispersed asunder. God is infinite both in knowledge and power. He knoweth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by their names; he can tell the number of the sands on the sea-shore: And is it at all incredible, that He should distinctly know the several particles of dust into which the bodies of men are mouldered, and plainly discern to whom they belong, and the various changes they have undergone? Why should it be thought strange, that He, who at the first formed us, whose eyes saw our substance yet being imperfect, from whom we were not hid when we were made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth, should know every part of our bodies, and every particle of dust whereof we were composed? The artist knows every part of the watch which he frames; and if it should fall in pieces, and the various parts of it lie in the greatest disorder and confusion, yet he can soon gather them together, and as easily distinguish one from another, as if every one had its particular mark. He knows the use of each, and can readily give it its proper place, and put them all exactly in the same figure and order they were before. And can we think that the Almighty Builder of the world, whose workmanship we are, does not know whereof we are made, or is not acquainted with the several parts of which this earthly tabernacle is composed? All these lay in one vast heap at the creation, till he separated them one from another, and framed them into those distinct bodies whereof this beautiful world consists. And why may not the same Power collect the ruins of our corrupted bodies, and restore them to their former condition? All the parts into which men's bodies are dissolved, however they seem to us carelessly scattered over the face of the earth, are yet carefully laid up by God's wise disposal till the day of the restoration of all things. They are preserved in the waters and fires, in the birds and beasts, till the last trumpet shall summon them to their former habitation.

"But," say they, "it may sometimes happen that several men's bodies may consist of the self-same matter. For the bodies of men are often devoured by other animals, which are eaten by other men. Nay, there are nations which feed upon human flesh; consequently, they borrow a great part of their bodies from other men. And if that which was part of one man's body becomes afterwards part of another man's, how can both rise at the last day with the same bodies they had before?" To this it may easily be replied, that a very small part of what is eaten turns to nourishment, the far greater part goes away according to the order of nature. So that it is not at all impossible for God, who watches over and governs all this, so to order things, that what is part of one man's body, though eaten by another, shall never turn to his nourishment; or, if it does, that it shall wear off again, and, some time before his death, be separated from him, so that it may remain in a capacity of being restored at the last day to its former owner.

2. God can form this dust, so gathered together, into the same body it was before. And that it is possible, all must own who believe that God made Adam out of the dust of the earth. Therefore, the bodies of men being dust after death, it is no other than it was before; and the same power that at the first made it of dust, may as easily re-make it, when it is turned into dust again. Nay, it is no more wonderful than the forming a human body in the womb, which is a thing we have daily experience of; and is doubtless as strange an instance of divine power as the resurrection of it can possibly be. And were it not so common a thing, we should be as hardly brought to think it possible that such a beautiful fabric as the body of man is, with nerves and bones, flesh and veins, blood, and the several other parts whereof it consists, should be formed as we know it is; as now we are, that hereafter it should be rebuilt when it has been crumbled into dust. Had we only heard of the wonderful production of the bodies of men, we should have been as ready to ask, "How are men made, and with what bodies are they born?" as now, when we hear of the resurrection, "How are the dead raised up, and with what bodies do they come?"

3. When God hath raised this body, he can enliven it with the same soul that inhabited it before. And his we cannot pretend to say is impossible to be done; for it has been done already. Our Saviour himself was dead, rose again, and appeared alive to his disciples and others, who had lived with him many years, and were then fully convinced that he was the same person they had seen die upon the cross.

Thus have I shown that the resurrection of the same body is by no means impossible to God; that what he hath promised he is able also to perform, by that "mighty power by which he is able to subdue all things to himself." Though, therefore, we cannot exactly tell the manner how it shall be done, yet this ought not in the least to weaken our belief of this important article of our faith. It is enough, that He to whom all things are possible hath passed his word that he will raise us again. Let those who presume to mock at the glorious hope of all good men, and are constantly raising objections against it, first try their skill upon the various appearances of nature. Let them explain everything which they see happen in this world, before they talk of the difficulties of explaining the resurrection. Can they tell me how their own bodies were fashioned and curiously wrought? Can they give me a plain account, by what orderly steps this glorious stately structure, which discovers so much workmanship and rare contrivance, was at first created? How was the first drop of blood made; and how came the heart, and veins, and arteries to receive it? Of what, and by what means, were the nerves and fibres made? What fixed the little springs in their due places, and fitted them for the several uses for which they now serve? How was the brain distinguished from the other parts of the body, and filled with spirits to move and animate the whole? How came the body to be fenced with bones and sinews, to be clothed with skin and flesh, distinguished into various muscles? Let them but answer these few questions about the mechanism of our own bodies, and I will answer all the difficulties concerning the resurrection of them. But if they cannot do this without having recourse to the infinite power and wisdom of the FIRST CAUSE, let them know that the same power and wisdom can re-animate it, after it is turned into dust; and that there is no reason for our doubting concerning the thing because there are some circumstances belonging to it which we cannot perfectly comprehend or give a distinct account of.

II. I now proceed to the Second thing I proposed; which was, to describe the difference the Scripture makes between the qualities of a mortal and of a glorified body.

The change which shall be made in our bodies at the resurrection, according to the Scripture account, will consist chiefly in these four things: -- 1. That our bodies shall be raised immortal and incorruptible. 2. That they shall be raised in glory. 3. That they shall be raised in power. 4. That they shall be raised spiritual bodies.

1. The body that we shall have at the resurrection shall be immortal and incorruptible: "For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." Now, these words, immortal and incorruptible, not only signify that we shall die no more, (for in that sense the damned are immortal and incorruptible,) but that we shall be perfectly free from all the bodily evils which sin brought into the world; that our bodies shall not be subject to sickness, or pain, or any other inconveniences we are daily exposed to. This the Scripture calls "the redemption of our bodies," -- the freeing them from all their maladies. Were we to receive them again, subject to all the frailties and miseries which we are forced to wrestle with, I much doubt whether a wise man, were he left to his choice, would willingly take his again; -- whether he would not choose to let his still lie rotting in the grave, rather than to be again chained to such a cumbersome clod of earth. Such a resurrection would be, as a wise Heathen calls it, "a resurrection to another sheep." It would look more like a redemption to death again, than a resurrection to life.

The best thing we can say of this house of earth, is, that it is a ruinous building, and will not be long before it tumbles into dust; that it is not our home, -- we look for another "house, eternal in the heavens;" that we shall not always be confined here, but that in a little time we shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption, from this burden of flesh, into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. What frail things these bodies of ours are! How soon are they disordered! To what a troop of diseases, pains, and other infirmities are they constantly subject! And how does the least distemper disturb our minds, and make life itself a burden! Of how many parts do our bodies consist! and if one of these be disordered, the whole man suffers. If but one of these slender threads, whereof our flesh is made up be stretched beyond its due proportion, or fretted by any sharp humour, or broken, what torment does it create! Nay, when our bodies are at the best, what pains do we take to answer their necessities, to provide for their sustenance, to preserve them in health, and to keep them tenantable, in some tolerable fitness for our souls' use! And what time we can spare from our labour is taken up in rest, and refreshing our jaded bodies, and fitting them for work again. How are we forced, even naturally, into the confines of death; even to cease to be; -- at least to pass so many hours without any useful or reasonable thoughts, merely to keep them in repair! But our hope and comfort are, that we shall shortly be delivered from this burden of flesh: When "God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away." O when shall we arrive at that happy hand where no complaints were ever heard, where we shall all enjoy uninterrupted health both of body and mind, and never more be exposed to any of those inconveniences that disturb our present pilgrimage. When we shall have once passed from death unto life, we shall be eased of all the troublesome care of our bodies, which now takes up so much of our time and thoughts. We shall be set, now undergo to support our lives. Yon robes of light, with which we shall be clothed at the resurrection of the just will not stand in need of those careful provisions which it is so troublesome to us here either to procure or to be without. But then, as our Lord tells us, those who shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world "neither marry nor are given in marriage, neither can they die any more, but they are equal to the angels." Their bodies are neither subject to disease, nor want that daily sustenance which these mortal bodies cannot be without. "Meats for the belly, and the belly for meats; but God will destroy both it and them." This is that perfect happiness which all good men shall enjoy in the other world, -- a mind free from all trouble and guilt, in a body free from all pains and diseases. Thus our mortal bodies shall he raised immortal. They shall not only be always preserved from death, (for so these might be, if God pleased,) but the nature of them shall be wholly changed, so that they shall not retain the same seeds of mortality; -- they cannot die any more.

2.

Our bodies shall he raised in glory. "Then shall the righteous shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Father." A resemblance of this we have in the lustre of Moses's face, when he had conversed with God on the mount. His face shone so bright, that the children of Israel were afraid to come near him, till he threw a veil over it. And that extraordinary majesty of Stephen's face seemed to be an earnest of his glory. "All that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw his face as it had been the face of an angel." How then, if it shone so gloriously even on earth, will it shine in the other world, when his, and the bodies of all the saints, are made like unto Christ's glorious body! How glorious the body of Christ is, we may guess from his transfiguration. St. Peter, when he saw this, when our Lord's face shone as the sun, and his raiment became shining and white as snow, was so transported with joy and admiration, that he knew not what he said. When our Saviour discovered but a little of that glory which he now possesses, and which in due time he will impart to his followers, yet that little of it made the place seem a paradise; and the disciples thought that they could wish for nothing better than always to live in such pure light, and enjoy so beautiful a sight. "It is good for us to be here: Let us make three tabernacles;" -- here let us fix our abode for ever. And if they thought it so happy only to be present with such heavenly bodies, and to behold them with their eyes, how much happier must it be to dwell in such glorious mansions, and to be themselves clothed with so much brightness!

This excellency of our heavenly bodies will probably arise, in great measure, from the happiness of our souls. The unspeakable joy that we then shall feel will break through our bodies, and shine forth in our countenances; as the joy of the soul, even in this life, has some influence upon the countenance, by rendering it more open and cheerful: So Solomon tells us, "A man's wisdom makes his face to shine." Virtue, as it refines a man's heart, so it makes his very looks more cheerful and lively.

3. Our bodies shall be raised in power. This expresses the sprightliness of our heavenly bodies, the nimbleness of their motion, by which they shall be obedient and able instruments of the soul. In this state, our bodies are no better than clogs and fetters, which confine and restrain the freedom of the soul. The corruptible body presses down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weighs down the mind. Our dull, sluggish, inactive bodies are often unable, or backward, to obey the commands of the soul. But in the other life, "they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint:" Or, as another expresses it, "they shall run to and fro like sparks among the stubble." The speed of their motion shall be like that of devouring fire in stubble; and the height of it, above the towering of an eagle; for they shall meet the Lord in the air when he comes to judgment, and mount up with him into the highest heaven. This earthly body is slow and heavy in all its motions, listless and soon tired with action. But our heavenly bodies shall be as fire; as active and as nimble as our thoughts are.

4. Our bodies shall be raised spiritual bodies. Our spirits are now forced to serve our bodies, and to attend their leisure, and do greatly depend upon them for most of their actions. But our bodies shall then wholly serve our spirits, and minister to them, and depend upon them. So that, as by "a natural body" we understand one fitted for this lower, sensible world for this earthly state; so "a spiritual body" is one that is suited to a spiritual state, to an invisible world, to the life of angels. And, indeed, this is the principal difference between a mortal and a glorified body. This flesh is the most dangerous enemy we have: We therefore deny and renounce it in our baptism. It constantly tempts us to evil. Every sense is a snare to us. All its lusts and appetites are inordinate. It is ungovernable, and often rebels against reason. The law in our members wars against the law of our mind. When the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak; so that the best of men are forced to keep it under, and use it hardly, lest it should betray them into folly and misery. And how does it hinder us in all our devotions! How soon does it jade our minds when employed on holy things! How easily, by its enchanting pleasures, does it divert them from those noble exercises! But when we have obtained the resurrection unto life, our bodies will be spiritualized, purified, and refined from their earthly grossness; then they will be fit instruments for the soul in all its divine and heavenly employment; we shall not be weary of singing praises to God through infinite ages.

Thus, after what little we have been able to conceive of it, it sufficiently appears, that a glorified body is infinitely more excellent and desirable than this vile body. The only thing that remains is,

III. To draw some inferences from the whole. And, First, from what has been said, we may learn the best way of preparing ourselves to live in those heavenly bodies; which is, by cleansing ourselves more and more from all earthly affections, and weaning ourselves from this body, and all the pleasures that are peculiar to it. We should begin in this life to loosen the knot between our souls and this mortal flesh; to refine our affections, and raise them from things below to things above; to take off our thoughts, and disengage them from present and sensible things, and accustom ourselves to think of, and converse with, things future and invisible; that so our souls, when they leave this earthly body, may be prepared for a spiritual one, as having beforehand tasted spiritual delights, and being in some degree acquainted with the things which we then shall meet with. A soul wholly taken up with this earthly body is not fit for the glorious mansions above. A sensual mind is so wedded to bodily pleasures, that it cannot enjoy itself without them; and it is not able to relish any other, though infinitely to be preferred before them. Nay, such as follow the inclinations of their fleshly appetites, are so far unfit for heavenly joys, that they would, esteem it the greatest unhappiness to he clothed with a spiritual body. It would be like clothing a beggar in the robes of a king. Such glorious bodies would be uneasy to them, they would not know what to do in them, they would be glad to retire and put on their rags again. But when we are washed from the guilt of our sins, and cleansed from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, by faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, then we shall long to be dissolved, and to be with our exalted Saviour; we shall be always ready to take wing for the other world, where we shall at last have a body suited to our spiritual appetites.

2. From hence we may see how to account for the different degrees of glory in the heavenly world. For although all the children of God shall have glorious bodies, yet the glory of them all shall not be equal. "As one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is the resurrection of the dead." They shall all shine as stars; but those who, by a constant diligence in well-doing, have attained to a higher measure of purity than others, shall shine more bright than others. They shall appear as more glorious stars. It is certain that the most heavenly bodies will be given to the most heavenly souls; so that this is no little encouragement to us to make the greatest progress we possibly can in the knowledge and love of God, since the more we are weaned from the things of the earth now, the more glorious will our bodies be at the resurrection.

3. Let this consideration engage us patiently to bear whatever troubles we may be exercised with in the present life. The time of our eternal redemption draweth nigh. Let us hold out a little longer, and all tears hall be wiped from our eyes, and we shall never sigh nor sorrow any more. And how soon shall we forget all we endured in this earthly tabernacle, when once we are clothed with that house which is from above! We are now but on our journey towards home, and so must expect to struggle with many difficulties; but it will not he long ere we come to our journey's end, and that will make amends for all. We shall then be in a quiet and safe harbour, out of the reach of all storms and dangers. We shall then be at home in our Father's house, no longer exposed to the inconveniences which, so long as we abide abroad in these tents, we are subject to. And let us not forfeit all this happiness, for want of a little more patience. Only let us hold out to the end, and we shall receive an abundant recompence for all the trouble arid uneasiness of our passage which shall be endless rest and peace.

Let this especially, fortify us against the fear of death: It is now disarmed, and can do us no hurt. It divides us, indeed, from this body awhile; but it is only that we may receive it again more glorious. As God, therefore, said once to Jacob, "Fear not to go down into Egypt, for I will go down with thee, and will surely bring thee up again;" so may I say to all who are born of God, "Fear not to go down into the grave; lay down your heads in the dust; for God will certainly bring you up again, and that in a much more glorious manner." Only "be ye steadfast and unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord;" and then let death prevail over, and pull down, this house of clay; since God hath undertaken to rear it up again, infinitely more beautiful, strong, and useful.

[149] [text from the 1872 edition]

[150] Written in the year 1732

[151] [This Sermon was originally written by Benjamin Calamy, D.D., Vicar of St. Lawrence, Jewry, London. It occurs, p. 275, in a volume of Sermons which bears his name, published in 1704; and is here abridged and revised by Mr. Wesley. -- EDIT.]

Sermon 138: On Grieving the Holy Spirit

Sermon 138 [152]

On Grieving the Holy Spirit

"Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption."

Eph. 4:30.

There can be no point of greater importance to him who knows that it is the Holy Spirit which leads us into all truth and into all holiness, than to consider with what temper of soul we are to entertain his divine presence; so as not either to drive him from us, or to disappoint him of the gracious ends for which his abode with us is designed; which is not the amusement of our understanding, but the conversion and entire sanctification of our hearts and lives.

These words of the Apostle contain a most serious and affectionate exhortation to this purpose. "Grieve. not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption."

The title "holy," applied to the Spirit of God, does not only denote that he is holy in his own nature, but that he makes us so; that he is the great fountain of holiness to his church; the Spirit from whence flows all the grace and virtue, by which the stains of guilt are cleansed, and we are renewed in all holy dispositions, and again bear the image of our Creator. Great reason, therefore, there was for the Apostle to give this solemn charge concerning it, and the highest obligation lies upon us all to consider it with the deepest attention; which that we may the more effectually do, I shall inquire,

I. In what sense the Spirit of God is said to be grieved at the sins of men:

II. By what kind of sin he is more especially grieved.

III. I shall endeavour to show the force of the Apostle's argument against grieving the Holy Spirit, -- "By whom we are sealed to the day of redemption."

I. I am, First, to inquire, in what sense the Spirit of God may be said to be grieved with the sins of men. There is not anything of what we properly call passion in God. But there is something of an infinitely higher kind: Some motions of his will, which are more strong and vigorous than can be conceived by men; and although they have not the nature of human passions, yet will answer the ends of them. By grief, therefore, we are to understand, a disposition in God's will, flowing at once from his boundless love to the persons of men, and his infinite abhorrence of their sins. And in this restrained sense it is here applied to the Spirit of God in the words of the Apostle.

And the reasons for which it is peculiarly applied to him are, First, because he is more immediately present with us; Second, because our sins are so many contempts of this highest expression of his love, and disappoint the Holy Spirit in his last remedy; and, Third, because, by this ungrateful dealing, we provoke him to withdraw from us.

1. We are said to grieve the Holy Spirit by our sins, because of his immediate presence with us. They are more directly committed under his eye, and are, therefore, more highly offensive to him. He is pleased to look upon professing Christians as more peculiarly separated to his honour; nay, we are so closely united to him, that we are said to be "one spirit with him;" and, therefore, every sin which we now commit, besides its own proper guilt, carries in it a fresh and infinitely high provocation. "Know ye not your own selves," saith St. Paul, "that your bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost?" And how are they so, but by his inhabitation and intimate presence with our souls? When, therefore, we set up the idols of earthly inclinations in our hearts, (which are properly his altar,) and bow down ourselves to serve those vicious passions which we ought to sacrifice to his will, -- this must needs be, in the highest degree, offensive and grievous to him. "For what concord is there between" the Holy Spirit "and Belial? or what agreement hath the temple of God with idols?"

2. We grieve the Holy Spirit by our sins, because they are so many contempts of the highest expression of his love, and disappoint him in his last remedy whereby he is pleased to endeavour our recovery. And thus every sin we now commit is done in despite of all his powerful assistances, in defiance of his reproofs, -- an ungrateful return for infinite lovingkindness!

As the Holy Spirit is the immediate minister of God's will upon earth, and transacts all the great affairs of the Church of Christ, -- if while he pours out the riches of his grace upon us, be finds them all unsuccessful, no wonder if he appeals to all the world, in the words of the Prophet, against our ingratitude: "And now, O ye men of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard. What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done in it? Wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes?" These, and many more such, which we meet with in the Holy Scriptures, are the highest expressions of the deepest concern; such as imply the utmost unwillingness to deal severely even with those whom yet, by all the wise methods of his grace, he could not reform. The Holy Spirit here represents himself as one who would be glad to spare sinners if he could; and therefore we may be sure it is grievous to him that by their sins they will not suffer him.

For men thus to disappoint the Holy Spirit of Love, -- for that too is his peculiar title, -- to make him thus wait that he may be gracious, and pay attendance on us through our whole course of folly and vanity, and to stand by, and be a witness of our stubbornness, with the importunate offers of infinite kindness in his hands, -- is a practice of such a nature that no gracious mind can hear the thoughts of it. It is an argument of God's unbounded mercy, that he is pleased to express, that he is only grieved at it; that his indignation does not flame out against those who are thus basely ungrateful, and consume them in a moment.

It was such ingratitude as this in the Jews, after numberless experiences of his extraordinary mercies towards them, that made infinite love, at last, turn in bitterness to reward them according to their doings; as we find the account given by the Prophets, in the most affecting and lively manner. And surely, considering the much greater obligations he hath laid on us, who enjoy the highest privileges, we may be sure that our sinful and untoward behaviour will, at last, be as great as the mercies we have abused.

There is no doubt but God observes all the sons of men, and his wrath abides on every worker of iniquity. But it is the unfaithful professor who has known his pardoning love, that grieves his Holy Spirit; which implies a peculiar baseness in our sins. A man may be provoked, indeed, by the wrongs of his enemy; but he is properly grieved by the offences of his friend. And, therefore, besides our other obligations, our very near relation to God, as being his friends and children, would, if we had a spark of gratitude in our souls, be a powerful restraint upon us, in preserving us from evil.

3. But if arguments of this kind are not strong enough to keep us from grieving our best Friend, the Holy Spirit of God, let us consider, that, by this ungrateful conduct, we shall provoke him to withdraw from us.

The truth of this, almost all who have ever tasted of the good gifts of the Holy Spirit must have experienced. It is to be hoped that we have had, some time or other, so lively a sense of his holy influence upon us, as that when we have been so unhappy as to offend him, we could easily perceive the change in our souls, in that darkness, distress, and despondency which more especially follow the commission of wilful and presumptuous sins. At those seasons, the blessed Spirit retired and concealed his presence from us, we were justly left to a sense of our own wretchedness and misery, till we humbled ourselves before the Lord, and by deep repentance and active faith obtained a return of divine mercy and peace.

And the more frequently we offend him, the more we weaken his influences in our souls. For frequent breaches will necessarily occasion estrangement between us; and it is impossible that our intercourse with him can be cordial, when it is disturbed by repeated interruptions. So a man will forgive his friend a great many imprudences, and some wilful transgresions; but to find him frequently affronting him, all his kindness will wear off by degrees; and the warmth of his affection, even towards him who had the greatest share of it, will die away; as he cannot but think that such a one does not any longer either desire or deserve to maintain a friendship with him.

II. I come now to consider by what kinds of sin the Holy Spirit is more especially grieved. These sins are, in genera], such as either at first wholly disappoint his grace of its due effect upon our souls, or are afterwards directly contrary to his gracious and merciful assistances. Of the former sort, I shall only mention, at present, inconsiderateness; of the latter, sins of presumption.

The First I shall mention, as being more especially grievous to the Holy Spirit, is inconsiderateness and inadvertence to his holy motions within us. There is a particular frame and temper of soul, a sobriety of mind, without which the Spirit of God will not concur in the purifying of our hearts. It is in our power, through his preventing and assisting grace, to prepare this in ourselves; and he expects we should, this being the foundation of all his after-works. Now, this consists in preserving our minds in a cool and serious disposition, in regulating and calming our affections, and calling in and checking the inordinate pursuits of our passions after the vanities and pleasures of this world; the doing of which is of such importance, that the very reason why men profit so little under the most powerful means, is, that they do not look enough within themselves, they do not observe and watch the discords and imperfections of their own spirit nor attend with care to the directions and remedies which the Holy Spirit is always ready to suggest. Men are generally lost in the hurry of life, in the business or pleasures of it, and seem to think that their regeneration, their new nature, will spring and grow up within them, with as little care and thought of their own as their bodies were conceived and have attained their full strength and stature; whereas, there is nothing more certain than that the Holy Spirit will not purify our nature, unless we carefully attend to his motions, which are lost upon us while, in the Prophet's language, we "scatter away our time," -- while we squander away our thoughts upon unnecessary things, and leave our spiritual improvement, the one thing needful, quite unthought of and neglected.

There are many persons who, in the main of their lives, are regular in their conversation, and observe the means of improvement, and attend upon the holy sacrament with exactness; who yet, in the intervals of their duties, give too great liberty to their thoughts, affections, and discourse: They seem to adjourn the great business of salvation to the next hour of devotion. If these professors lose so much in their spiritual estate for want of adjusting and balancing their accounts, what then must we think of those who scarce ever bestow a serious thought upon their eternal welfare? Surely there is not any temper of mind less a friend to the spirit of religion, than a thoughtless and inconsiderate one, that, by a natural succession of strong and vain affections shuts out everything useful from their souls, till, at length, they are overtaken by a fatal lethargy; they lose sight of all danger, and become insensible of divine convictions; and, in consequence, quite disappoint all the blessed means of restoration. If, therefore, we measure the Holy Spirit's concern at the sins of men by the degrees of his disappointment, we may conclude, that there is no state of mind that grieves him more, unless that of actual wickedness.

Presumptuous sins are, indeed, in the highest manner offensive to the Holy Spirit of God. They are instances of open enmity against him, and have all the guilt of open rebellion. The wilful sinner is not ignorant or surprised, but knowingly fights against God's express commandment, and the lively, full, and present conviction of his own mind and conscience; so that this is the very standard of iniquity. And all other kinds of sins are more or less heinous, as they are nearer or farther off from sins of this dreadful nature; inasmuch as these imply the greatest opposition to God's will, contempt of his mercy, and defiance of his justice. This, if any thing can, doubtless, must so grieve him as to make him wholly withdraw his gracious presence.

III. I come now to show the force of the Apostle's argument against grieving the Holy Spirit, -- Because we "are sealed to the day of redemption."

By "the day of redemption" may be meant, either the time of our leaving these bodies at death, or, of our taking them again at the general resurrection. Though here it probably means the latter; in which sense the Apostle uses the word in another place: "Waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our bodies." And to this day of redemption we are sealed by the Holy Spirit these three ways: --

1. By receiving his real stamp upon our souls; by being made the partakers of the divine nature.

2. By receiving him as a mark of God's property; as a sign that we belong to Christ. And,

3. As an earnest and assurance to our own spirits, that we have a title to eternal happiness.

And, First, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit of God, by our receiving his real stamp upon our souls; being made the partakers of the divine nature, and "meet for the inheritance of the saints in light." This is, indeed, the design of his dwelling in us, to heal our disordered souls, and to restore that image of his upon our nature, which is so defaced by our original and actual corruptions. And until our spirits are, in some measure, thus renewed, we can have no communion with him. For "if we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth." But by the renewal of our minds in the image of Him that created us, we are still more capable of his influences; and by means of a daily intercourse with him, we are more and more transformed into his likeness, till we are satisfied with it.

This likeness to God, this conformity of our will and affections to his will, is, properly speaking, holiness; and to produce this in us, is the proper end and design of all the influences of the Holy Spirit. By means of his presence with us, we receive from him a great fulness of holy virtues; we take such features of resemblance in our spirits as correspond to his original perfections. And thus we are sealed by him, in the first sense, by way of preparation for our day of redemption.

And since we are so, and our new nature thus grows up under the same power of his hands, what do we, when we grieve him by our sins, but undo and destroy his work? We frustrate his designs by breaking down the fences which he had been trying to raise against the overflowings of corruption; so that, at last, we entirely defeat all his gracious measures for our salvation.

2. We are sealed by the Holy Spirit unto the day of redemption, as a sign of God's property in us, and as a mark that we belong to Christ. And this is, by his appointment, the condition and security of that future happiness, into which he will admit none but those who have received the Spirit of his Son into their hearts. But in whomsoever he finds this mark and character, when he shall come to judge the world, these will he take to himself, and will not suffer the destroyer to hurt them. To this very purpose the Prophet Malachi, speaking of those who feared God, says, "They shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my jewels;" -- that is to say, when I set my seal and mark upon them; -- "and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him."

Now, if the Holy Spirit be the sign, the seal, and the security of our salvation, then, by grieving him by our sins, we break up this seal with our own hands, we cancel our firmest security, and, as much as in us lies, reverse our own title to eternal life.

Besides this, the Holy Spirit within us is the security of our salvation; he is likewise an earnest of it, and assures our spirits that we have a title to eternal happiness. "The Spirit of God beareth witness with our spirits that we are the children of God." And in order that this inward testimony may be lively and permanent, it is absolutely necessary to attend carefully to the secret operation of the Holy Spirit within us; who, by infusing his holy consolations into our souls, by enlivening our drooping spirits, and giving us a quick relish of his promises, raises bright and joyous sensations in us, and gives a man, beforehand, a taste of the bliss to which he is going. In this sense, God is said, by the Apostle to the Corinthians, to have "sealed us, and to have given the earnest of his Spirit in our hearts;" and that earnest, not only by way of confirmation of our title to happiness, but as an actual part of that reward at present, the fulness of which we expect hereafter.

[152] (Written in the year 1733)

Sermon 139: On Love

Sermon 139 [153]

On Love [154]

"Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."

1 Cor. 13:3.

[1.] There is great reason to fear that it will hereafter be said of most of you who are here present, that this scripture, as well as all those you have heard before, profited you nothing. Some, perhaps, are not serious enough to attend to it; some who do attend, will not believe it; some who do believe it, will yet think it a hard saying, and so forget it as soon as they can; and, of those few who receive it gladly for a time, some, having no root of humility, or self-denial, when persecution ariseth because of the word, will, rather than suffer for it, fall away. Nay, even of those who attend to it, who believe, remember, yea, and receive it so deeply into their hearts, that it both takes root there, endures the heat of temptation, and begins to bring forth fruit, yet will not all bring forth fruit unto perfection. The cares or pleasures of the world, and the desire of other things, (perhaps not felt till then,) will grow up with the word, and choke it.

[2.] Nor am I that speak the word of God any more secure from these dangers than you that hear it. I, too, have to bewail "an evil heart of unbelief." And whenever God shall suffer persecution to arise, yea, were it only the slight one of reproach, I may be the first that is offended. Or, if I be enabled to sustain this, yet, should he let loose the cares of the world upon me, or should he cease to guard me against those pleasures that do not lead to him, and the desire of other things [than knowing and loving him], I should surely be overwhelmed, and, having preached to others, be myself a castaway.

[3.] Why then do I speak this word at all? Why? Because a dispensation of the gospel is committed to me: And, though what I shall do to-morrow I know not, to-day I will preach the gospel. And with regard to you, my commission runs thus: "Son of man, I do send thee to them; and thou shalt say unto them, Thus saith the Lord God; -- whether they will hear, or whether they will forbear."

[4.] Thus saith the Lord God, "Whosoever thou art who wilt enter into life, keep the commandments." (In order to this, "believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.") "Forsake not the assembling together, as the manner of some is." In secret, likewise, "pray to thy Father who seeth in secret," and "pour out thy heart before him." Make my word "a lantern to thy feet, and a light unto thy paths." Keep it "in thy heart, and in thy mouth, when thou sittest in thy house, when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up." "Turn unto me with fasting," as well as prayer; and, in obedience to thy dying Redeemer, by eating that bread and drinking that cup, "show ye forth the Lord's death till he comes." By the power thou shalt through these means receive from on high, do all the things which are enjoined in the Law, and avoid all those things which are forbidden therein, knowing that if ye offend in one point, ye are guilty of all." "To do good also, and to distribute, forget not;" -- yea, while you have time, do all the good you can unto all men. Then "deny thyself, take up thy cross daily;" and, if called thereto, "resist unto blood." And when each of you can say, "All this have I done," then let him say to himself farther, (words at which not only such as Felix alone, but the holiest soul upon earth might tremble,) "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."

It concerns us all, therefore, in the highest degree, to know,

I. The full sense of those words, "Though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned;"

II. The true meaning of the word love; and,

III. In what sense it can be said, that without love all this profiteth us nothing.

I. As to the First: It must be observed that the word used by St. Paul properly signifies, To divide into small pieces, and then to distribute what has been so divided; and, consequently, it implies, not only divesting ourselves at once of all the worldly goods we enjoy, either from a fit of distaste to the world, or a sudden start of devotion, but an act of choice, and that choice coolly and steadily executed. It may imply, too, that this be done not out of vanity, but in part from a right principle; namely, from a design to perform the command of God, and a desire to obtain his kingdom. It must be farther observed, that the word give signifies, actually to deliver a thing according to agreement; and, accordingly, it implies, like the word preceding, not a hasty, inconsiderate action, but one performed with open eyes and a determined heart, pursuant to a resolution before taken. The full sense of the words, therefore, is this; which he that hath cars to hear, let him hear: "Though I should give all the substance of my house to feed the poor; though I should do so upon mature choice and deliberation; though I should spend my life in dealing it out to them with my own hands, yea, and that from a principle of obedience; though I should suffer, from the same view, not only reproach and shame, not only bonds and imprisonment, and all this by my own continued act and deed, not accepting deliverance, but, moreover, death itself, -- yea, death inflicted in a manner the most terrible to nature; yet all this, if I have not love, (the love of God, and the love of all mankind, shed abroad in my heart by the Hold Ghost given unto me,') it profiteth me nothing."

II. Let us inquire what this love is, -- what is the true meaning of the word? We may consider it either as to its properties or effects: And that we may be under no possibility of mistake, we will not at all regard the judgment of men, but go to our Lord himself for an account of the nature of love; and, for the effects of it, to his inspired Apostle.

The love which our Lord requires in all his followers, is the love of God and man; -- of God, for his own, and of man, for God's sake. Now, what is it to love God, but to delight in him, to rejoice in his will, to desire continually to please him, to seek and find our happiness in him, and to thirst day and night for a fuller enjoyment of him?

As to the measure of this love, our Lord hath clearly told us, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." Not that we are to love or delight in none but him: For he hath commanded us, not only to love our neighbour, that is, all men, as ourselves; -- to desire and pursue their happiness as sincerely and steadily as our own, -- but also to love many of his creatures in the strictest sense; to delight in them, to enjoy them: Only in such a manner and measure as we know and feel, not to indispose but to prepare us for the enjoyment of Him. Thus, then, we are called to love God with all our heart.

The effects or properties of this love, the Apostle describes in the chapter before us. And all these being infallible marks whereby any man may judge of himself, whether he hath this love or hath it not, they deserve our deepest consideration.

"Love suffereth long," or is longsuffering. If thou love thy neighbour for God's sake, thou wilt bear long with his infirmities: If he want wisdom, thou wilt pity and not despise him: If he be in error, thou wilt mildly endeavour to recover him, without any sharpness or reproach: If he be overtaken in a fault, thou wilt labour to restore him in the spirit of meekness: And if, haply, that cannot be done soon, thou wilt have patience with him; if God, peradventure, may bring him, at length to the knowledge and love of the truth. In all provocations, either from the weakness or malice of men, thou wilt show thyself a pattern of gentleness and meekness; and, be they ever so often repeated, wilt not be overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. Let no man deceive you with vain words: He who is not thus long-suffering, hath not love.

Again: "Love is kind." Whosoever feels the love of God and man shed abroad in his heart, feels an ardent and uninterrupted thirst after the happiness of all his fellow-creatures. His soul melts away with the very fervent desire which he hath continually to promote it; and out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh. In his tongue is the law of kindness. The same is impressed on all his actions. The flame within is continually working itself away, and spreading abroad more and more, in every instance of good-will to all with whom he hath to do. So that whether he thinks or speaks, or whatever he does, it all points to the same end, -- the advancing, by every possible way, the happiness of all his fellow-creatures. Deceive not, therefore, your own souls: He who is not thus kind, hath not love.

Farther: "Love envieth not." This, indeed, is implied, when it is said, "Love is kind." For kindness and envy are inconsistent: They can no more abide together than light and darkness. If we earnestly desire all happiness to all, we cannot be grieved at the happiness of any. The fulfilling of our desire will be sweet to our soul; so far shall we be from being pained at it. If we are always doing what good we can for our neighbour, and wishing we could do more, it is impossible that we should repine at an good he receives: Indeed, it will be the very joy of our heart. However, then, we may flatter ourselves, or one another, he that envieth hath not love.

It follows, "Love vaunteth not itself;" or rather, is not rash or hasty in judging: For this is indeed the true meaning of the word. As many as love their neighbour for God's sake, will not easily receive an ill opinion of any to whom they wish all good, spiritual as well as temporal. They cannot condemn him even in their heart without evidence; nor upon slight evidence neither; nor, indeed upon any, without first, if it be possible, having him and his accuser face to face, or at the least acquainting him with the accusation, and letting him speak for himself. Every one of you feels that he cannot but act thus, with regard to one whom he tenderly loves. Why, then, he who doth not act thus hath not love.

I only mention one more of the properties of this love: "Love is not puffed up." You cannot wrong one you love: Therefore, if you love God with all your heart, you cannot so wrong him as to rob him of his glory, by taking to yourself what is due to him only. You will own that all you are, and all you have, is his; that without him you can do nothing; that he is your light and your life, your strength and your all; and that you are nothing, yea, less than nothing, before him. And if you love your neighbour as yourself, you will not be able to prefer yourself before him. Nay, you will not be able to despise any one, any more than to hate him. [Nay, you will think every man better than yourself.] As the wax melteth away before the fire, so doth pride melt away before love. All haughtiness, whether of heart, speech, or behaviour, vanishes away where love prevails. It bringeth down the high looks of him who boasted in his strength, and maketh him as a little child; diffident of himself, willing to hear, glad to learn, easily convinced, easily persuaded. And whosoever is otherwise minded, let him give up all vain hope: He is puffed up, and so hath not love.

III. It remains to inquire, in what sense it can be said that "though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, yea, though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."

The chief sense of the words is, doubtless, this: That whatsoever we do, and whatsoever we suffer, if we are not renewed in the spirit of our mind, by "the love of God shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost given unto us," we cannot enter into life eternal. None can enter there, unless in virtue of covenant which God hath given unto man in the Son of his love.

But, because general truths are less apt to affect us, let consider one or two particulars, with regard to which all we can do or suffer, if we have not love, profiteth us nothing. And, First, all without this profiteth not, so as to make life happy; nor, Secondly, so as to make death comfortable.

And, First, without love nothing can so profit us as to make our lives happy. By happiness I mean, not a slight, trilling pleasure, that perhaps begins and ends in the same hour; but such a state of well-being as contents the soul, and gives it a stead, lasting satisfaction. But that nothing without love can profit us, as to our present happiness, will appear from this single consideration: You cannot want it, in any one single instance, without pain; and the more you depart from it, the pain is the greater. Are you wanting in longsuffering? Then, so far as you fall short of this, you fall short of happiness. The more the opposite tempers -- anger, fretfulness, revenge -- prevail, the more unhappy you are. You know it; you feel it; nor can the storm be allayed, or peace ever return to your soul, unless meekness, gentleness, patience, or, in one word, love, take possession of it. Does any man find in himself ill-will, malice, envy, or any other temper opposite to kindness? Then is misery there; and the stronger the temper, the more miserable he is. If the slothful man may be said to eat his own flesh, much more the malicious, or envious. His soul is the very type of hell; -- full of torment as well as wickedness. He hath already the worm that never dieth, and he is hastening to the fire that never can be quenched. Only as yet the great gulf is not fixed between him and heaven. As yet there is a Spirit ready to help his infirmities; who is still willing, if he stretch out his hands to heaven, and bewail his ignorance and misery, to purify his heart from vile affections, and to renew it in the love of God, and so lead him by present, up to eternal, happiness.

Secondly. Without love, nothing can make death comfortable.

By comfortable I do not mean stupid, or senseless. I would not say, he died comfortably who died by an apoplexy, or by the shot of a cannon, any more than he who, having his conscience seared, died as unconcerned as the beasts that beasts that perish. Neither do I believe you would envy any one the comfort of dying raving mad. But, by a comfortable death, I mean, a calm passage out of life, full of even, rational peace and joy. And such a death, all the acting and all the suffering in the world cannot give, without love.

To make this still more evident, I cannot appeal to your own experience; but I may to what we have seen, and to the experience of others. And two I have myself seen going out of this life in what I call a comfortable manner, though not with equal comfort. One had evidently more comfort than the other, because he had more love.

I attended the first during a great part of his last trial, as well as when he yielded up his soul to God. He cried out, "God doth chasten me with strong pain; but I thank him for all; I bless him for all; I love him for all!" When asked, not long before his release, "Are the consolations of God small with you?" he replied aloud, "No, no, no!" Calling all that were near him by their names, he said, "Think of heaven, talk of heaven: All the time is lost when we are not thinking of heaven." Now, this was the voice of love; and, so far as that prevailed, all was comfort, peace, and joy. But as his love was not perfect, so neither was his comfort. He intervals of [anger or] fretfulness, and therein of misery; giving by both an incontestable proof that love can sweeten both life and death. So when that is either absent from, or obscured in, the soul, there is no peace or comfort there.

It was in this place that I saw the other good soldier of Jesus Christ grappling with his last enemy, death. And it was, indeed, a spectacle worthy to be seen, of God, and angels, and men. Some of his last breath was spent in a psalm of praise to Him who was then giving him the victory; in assurance whereof be began triumph even in the heat of the battle. When he was asked, "Hast thou the love of God in thy heart?" he lifted up his eyes and hands, and answered, "Yes, yes!" with the whole strength he had left. To one who inquired if he was afraid of the devil, whom he had just mentioned as making his last attack upon him, he replied, "No, no: My loving Saviour hath conquered every enemy: He is with me. I fear nothing." Soon after, he said, "The way to our loving Saviour is sharp, but it is short." Nor was it long before he fell into a sort of slumber, wherein his soul sweetly returned to God that gave it.

Here, we may observe, was no mixture of any passion or temper contrary to love; therefore, there was no misery; perfect love casting out whatever might have occasioned torment. And whosoever thou art who hast the like measure of love, thy last end shall be like his. [Section numbers in brackets follow the Bicentennial Edition.]

[153] [text from the 1872 edition]

[154] Preached at Savannah, February 20, 1736

Sermon 140: On Public Diversions

Sermon 140 [155]

On Public Diversions

"Shall a trumpet be blown in the city, and the people not be afraid? shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it?"

Amos 3:6.

It is well if there are not too many here who are too nearly concerned in these words of the Prophet; the plain sense of which seems to be this: Are there any men in the world so stupid and senseless, so utterly void of common reason, so careless of their own and their neighbours' safety or destruction, as when an alarm of approaching judgments is given, to show no signs of apprehension? to take no care in order to prevent them, but go on as securely as if no alarm had been given? Do not all men know that whatsoever evil befals them, it befalls them either by God's appointment; and that he designs every evil of this life to warn men to avoid still greater evils? that he suffers these lighter marks of his displeasure, to awaken mankind, so that they may shun his everlasting vengeance, and be timely advised, by feeling a part of it, so to change their ways that his whole displeasure may not arise?

I intend, speaking on this subject, to show, First, that there is no evil in any place but the hand of the Lord is in it.

Secondly. That every uncommon evil is the trumpet of God blown in that place, so that the people may take warning.

Thirdly. To consider whether, after God hath blown his trumpet in this place, we have been duly afraid.

I am, First, to show, in few words, that there is no evil in any place but the hand of the Lord is therein. No evil, that is, no affliction or calamity, whether of a public or of a private nature, whether it concerns only one, or a few persons, or reaches to many, or to all, of that place where it comes. Whatever circumstance occasions loss or pain to any man, or number of men, may in that respect be called an evil; and of such evils the Prophet speaks in these words.

Of such evils, we are to believe, that they never happen but by the knowledge and permission of God. And of every such evil we may say, that the Lord hath done it, either by his own immediate power, by the strength of his own right hand, or by commanding, or else suffering, it to be done by those his servants that do his pleasure. For the Lord is King, be the people never so impatient; yea, the great King of all the earth. Whatsoever, therefore, is done in all the earth, (sin only excepted,) he doeth it himself. The Lord God Omnipotent still reigneth; and all things are so subject unto him, that his will must be done, whether we agree to it or not, as in heaven, so also upon earth. Not only his blessed angels, but all things, serve him in all places of his dominion; those wicked spirits which rule the darkness of this world, and those men who are like them, he rules by constraint; the senseless and brute parts of the creation, by nature; and those men who are like God, by choice. But, however it be, with or without their own choice, they all act in obedience to his will; and particularly so, when, in judgment, he remembers mercy, and permits a smaller evil that he may prevent greater. Then, at least, we are to acknowledge the hand of God in whatsoever instruments he makes use of. It makes little difference whether he executes his purpose by the powers of heaven or hell, or by the mistakes, carelessness, or malice of men. If a destroying angel marches forth against a town or country, it is God who empowers him to destroy. If bad men distress one or more of their fellow-creatures, the ungodly are a sword of his. If fire, hail, wind, or storm be let loose upon the earth, yet they only fulfil his word. So certain it is, that there is no evil in any place which the Lord, in this sense, hath not done.

I am to prove, Secondly, that every uncommon evil is the trumpet of God blown in that place where it comes, that the people may take warning.

Every private affliction is doubtless the voice of God, whereby he calls upon that person to flee to him for succour. But if any extraordinary affliction occurs, especially when many persons are concerned in it, we may not only say that in this God speaks to us, but that the God of glory thundereth. This voice of the Lord is in power! This voice of the Lord is full of majesty! This demands the deepest attention of all to whom it comes. This loudly claims the most serious consideration, not only of those to whom it is peculiarly sent, but of all those that are round about them. This, like a voice from heaven, commands that all people should be afraid, should tremble at the presence of God! that everyone should feel and show that religious fear, that sacred awe, of the majesty of God, which is both the beginning and perfection of wisdom; that fear which should make them haste to do whatsoever the Lord their God commands them, and careful not to turn aside from it to the right hand or the left.

It is needless to use many words to prove this, after what has been proved already. For if there be no evil in any place which the Lord hath not done, and if he doth not willingly send evil on any place, but only to warn them to avoid greater evils; then it is plain, that, wherever any evil is, it is the trumpet of God blown in that place, to the end that the people may be so afraid as not to continue in anything that displeaseth him. Then it is plain, that, in every such merciful evil, God speaks to this effect: "O that there were such an heart in this people, that they would fear me, and keep my commandments always; that it might be well with them, and their children after them!"

Thirdly, What signs we have manifested of this wise and grateful fear, I am now to consider more at large.

First. Let us consider how God hath blown his trumpet in this place; and, Secondly, whether we have been duly afraid.

Let us consider, First, how God hath blown his trumpet among us of this place. And that it might never be forgotten, it were much to be wished, not only that parents would tell their children, to the intent that their posterity might know it, and the children that are yet unborn; but also, that it were written in our public register, for a standing memorial to all generations; that in the very week, and on the very day, when that diversion which hath had a considerable share in turning the Christian world upside down, was to have been brought in hither also, such a fire broke out, as neither we nor our fathers had seen in this place; a fire which soon spread itself not over one only, but over several dwelling-houses; which so went forth in the fury of its strength, that it soon prevailed over the weak resistance made against it, and left only so much standing of most of those buildings over which it prevailed, as might serve to quicken our remembrance of it. Let it be told, that those who came prepared for another prospect, were entertained with that of devouring flames! a prospect which continued during the whole time of the intended diversion, and which was but too plainly to be seen, together with the fiery pillars of smoke which increased its horror, from the very place which had been pitched upon for the scene of this diversion.

This is the bare matter of fact. And even from this, let any one, in whom is the spirit of a man, judge, whether the trumpet of God hath not sufficiently sounded among us of this place! And doth this trumpet give an uncertain sound? How would you have God speak more plainly? Do you desire that the Lord should also thunder out of heaven, and give hail-stones, and coals of fire? Nay, rather let us say, "It is enough! Speak no more, Lord; for thy servants hear! Those to whom thou hast most severely spoken are afraid, and do seek thee with their whole heart. They resolve not to prolong the time, but even now, by thy gracious assistance, to look well if there be any way of wickedness in them, and to turn their feet unto the way everlasting; to renounce everything that is evil in thy sight; yea, the sin that doth the most easily beset them; and to use their whole diligence for the time to come, to make their calling and election sure. Those to whom thou hast spoken by the misfortune of their neighbours are likewise afraid at thy tokens, and own that it was thy mere goodness, that they, too, and their substance, were not consumed. They likewise firmly purpose in themselves to make the true use of thy merciful warning; to labour more and more, day by day, to purge themselves from all sin, from every earthly affection, that they may be fit to stand in the presence of that God who is himself a consuming fire!'"

But have we indeed been thus duly afraid? This is now to be considered. And because we cannot see the hearts of others, let us form our judgment from their actions, which will be best done by a plain relation, of which everyone that hears it can easily tell whether it be true or false.

In the day following that on which the voice of God had so dreadfully commanded us to exchange our mirth for sadness, the diversion which that had broken off was as eagerly begun anew. Crowds of people flocked out of that very town where the destruction had been wrought the day before, and rushed by the place of desolation to the place of entertainment! Here you might see the ground covered with heaps of ruins, mingled with yet unquenched fire; a little way off, as thickly covered with horses and men, pressing on to see another new sight. On this side were the mourners bewailing the loss of their goods, and the necessities of their families; on the other, the feasters delighting themselves with the sport they had gained. Surely, such a mixture of mirth and sadness, of feasting and mourning, of laughing and weeping, hath not been seen from the day in which our forefathers first came up into this land, until yesterday.

Such is the fear we have shown of the wrath of God! Thus have we been afraid after he had blown his trumpet among us! These are the signs we have given of our resolution to avoid whatever is displeasing in his sight! Hereby we have proved how we design to avoid that diversion in particular, which he hath given us so terrible a reason to believe is far from being pleasing to him! Not that this is the only reason we have to believe so. Besides this last melancholy argument against it, we have so many others, as any serious Christian would find it a hard task to answer. But I have only time to mention slightly a few of the consequences that were never yet separated from it.

Before I mention these, it is not necessary for me to say whether the diversion is sinful in itself, simply considered, or not. If anyone can find a race which has none of these consequences, let him go to it in the name of God. Only, till he finds one which does not give occasion to these or the like villanies, let him who nameth the name of Christ have a care of any way encouraging them.

One thing more I would have observed, that it is so far from being uncharitable to warn well-meaning people of the tendency of these diversions, that the more clearly and strongly anyone represents it to them, the more charitable to them he is. This may be made plain by a very easy comparison. You see the wine when it sparkles in the cup, and are going to drink of it. I tell you there is poison in it! and, therefore, beg you to throw it away. You answer, "The wine is harmless in itself." I reply, Perhaps it is so; but still if it be mixed with what is not harmless, no one in his senses, if he knows it at least, unless he could separate the good from the bad, will once think of drinking it. If you add, "It is not poison to me, though it be to others;" then I say, Throw it away for thy brother's sake, lest thou embolden him to drink also. Why should thy strength occasion thy weak brother to perish, for whom Christ died? Now let anyone judge which is the uncharitable person: He who pleads against the wine or the diversion, for his brother's sake; or he who pleads against the life of his brother, for the sake of the wine or the diversions.

All the doubt there can be is: "Is there poison in this diversion which is supposed to be harmless in itself?" To clear this up, let us, First, observe the notorious lying that is always joined with it; the various kinds of over-reaching and cheating; the horrid oaths and curses that constantly accompany it, wherewith the name of our Lord God, blessed for ever, is blasphemed. When or where was this diversion ever known without these dreadful consequences? Who was ever one day present at one of these entertainments, without being himself a witness to some of these? And surely these alone, had we no other ill consequences to charge upon this diversion, are enough, till a way is found to purge it from them, to make both God and all wise men to abhor it.

But, over and above these, we charge it, Secondly, with affording the fairest means to exercise and to increase covetousness. This it done by the occasion it gives to all who please to lay wagers with one another, which commonly brings so strong a desire of possessing what is another's, as will hardly cease when that one point is decided; but will be exceedingly likely to leave such a thirst in the mind, as not all the winning in the world will satisfy. And what amends can the trifling sport of a thousand people make for one soul thus corrupted and ruined? Therefore, on this account too, till a way is known to secure all that frequent it from this danger, well may this sport itself be an abomination to Him who values one soul more than the whole world.

May we not well fear, that it is an abomination to the Lord because of a Third effect of it? because it is so apt to inflame those passions which he so earnestly commands us to quench? because many people are so heated on such occasions, as they never ought to be on any occasion? supposing it possible that a man might be angry, and not sin; yet hardly upon such occasions, or in such a degree as those who are angry upon such occasions commonly are. This consequence, too, let him separate from such a diversion, who would prevent its being displeasing to God.

Till this be done, let no one say, "What hurt is there in a horse-race?" But if any should still ask that question, we can answer yet more particularly, Are you a young person who desires to go to it? Then it is likely you go either to see or to be seen; to admire other fine sights, or to be admired yourself. The hurt of this is, it nourishes that friendship which is enmity with God. It strengthens those affections which are already too strong, -- the desire of the eye, and the pride of life. All such diversions as these are the noblest instruments the devil has to fill the mind with earthly, sensual, devilish passions; to make you of a light and trifling spirit; in a word, to make you a lover of pleasure more than a lover of God. Are you, who desire to go to it, advanced in years, and, therefore, less subject to such temptations? Take heed that your hearts deceive you not. But be it as you suppose, hath it not done you hurt enough, if it has hindered any of you from partaking of the blessed sacrament? if by preventing either that serious examination or that private devotion which you wisely use before you come to it, has occasioned your neglecting to come to this holy table; and so not only disobeying a plain command of God, but likewise losing all those inestimable advantages which are there reached out to them who obey him? Are you a rich man that desire to go? Then you have probably given something towards it. That is, you have thrown away that seed which might have borne fruit to eternity! You have thrown away a part of that talent, which had you rightly improved, you might have been an everlasting gainer by it! You have utterly lost what God himself, had you lent it to him, would richly have repaid you. For you have given to those who neither need, nor perhaps thank you for it; which if you had bestowed upon your helpless brethren, your blessed Redeemer would have esteemed it as done unto himself, and would have treated you accordingly at the great day. Are you a poor man, who have gone or given anything to this diversion? Then it has done you most hurt of all. It has made you throw away, for an idle sport abroad, what your wife and family wanted at home. If so, you have denied the faith, and are far worse than an infidel. But suppose it cost you no money, was it not hurt enough if it cost you any of your time? What had you to do to run after trifling diversions, when you ought to have been employed in honest labour? Surely if the rich think, God hath given them more than they want, (though it will be well if they do not one day think otherwise,) yet you have no temptation to think so. Sufficient for your day is the labour thereof.

I have but a few words to add, -- and those I speak not to them who are unwilling to hear, whose affections are set upon this world, and therefore their eyes are blinded by it; but I speak to them in whom is an understanding heart, and a discerning spirit; -- who, if they have formerly erred, are now resolved, by the grace of God, to return no more to the error of their ways; but for the time come, not only to avoid, but also earnestly to oppose, whatsoever is contrary to the will of God. To these I say, Are ye young? So much the rather scorn all employments that are useless, but much more if they are sinful; For you are they, whose wisdom and glory it is to remember your Creator in the days of your youth. Are you elder? So much the rather bestow all the time which you can spare from the necessary business of this life, in preparing yourself and those about you for their entrance into a better life. For your day is far spent, your night is at hand. Redeem therefore the little time you have left. Are you rich? Then you have particular reason to labour that you may be rich in good works: For you are they to whom much is given, not to throw away, but to use well and wisely; and of you much shall be required. Are ye poor? Then you have particular reason to work with your hands, that you may provide for your own household. Nor when you have done this have you done all; for then you are to labour that you may give to him that needeth, -- not to him that needeth diversions, but to him that needeth the necessaries of nature, -- that needeth clothes to cover him, food to support his life, or a house where to lay his head.

What remains, but that we labour, one and all, young and old, rich and poor, to wipe off the past scandal from our town and people? First, by opposing to the utmost, for the time to come, by word and deed, among our friends, and all we have to do with, this unhappy diversion, which has such terribly hurtful consequences; by doing all we possibly can to hinder its coming among us any more. And, Secondly, by showing all the mercy we can to our afflicted neighbours, according as God hath prospered us; and by this timely relief of them, laying up for ourselves a good foundation against the day of necessity. Thirdly, by our constant attendance on God's public service and blessed sacrament, and our watchful, charitable, and pious life. Thus giving the noblest proof before men and angels, that although, even after we were troubled, we went wrong, yet, upon more deeply considering how God hath blown his trumpet among us, we were afraid. We then shall say with an awakened heart, Behold, the Lord our God hath showed us his glory and his greatness, and we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire. Now, therefore, while time is, let us put away far from us every accursed thing: "For if we hear this voice of the Lord our God any more, then we shall die."

[155] [text from the 1872 edition]

Sermon 141: On the Holy Spirit

Sermon 141 [156]

On the Holy Spirit [157]

"Now the Lord is that Spirit."

2 Cor. 3:17.

The Apostle had been showing how the gospel ministry was superior to that of the law: The time being now come when types and shadows should be laid aside, and we should be invited to our duty by the manly and ingenuous motives of a clear and full revelation, open and free on God's part, and not at all disguised by his ambassadors. But what he chiefly insists upon is, not the manner, but the subject of their ministry: "Who hath made us able ministers," saith he, "of the New Testament: Not of the letter, but of the Spirit: For the letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life." Here lies the great difference between the two dispensations: That the law was indeed spiritual in its demands, requiring a life consecrated to God in the observance of many rules; but, not conveying spiritual assistance, its effect was only to kill and mortify man, by giving him to understand, that he must needs be in a state of great depravity, since he found it so difficult to obey God; and that, as particular deaths were by that institution inflicted for particular sins, so death, in general, was but the consequence of his universal sinfulness. But the ministration of the New Testament was that of a "Spirit which giveth life;" -- a Spirit, not only promised, but actually conferred; which should both enable Christians now to live unto God, and fulfil precepts even more spiritual than the former; and restore them hereafter to perfect life, after the ruins of sin and death. The incarnation, preaching, and death of Jesus Christ were designed to represent, proclaim, and purchase for us this gift of the Spirit; and therefore says the Apostle, "The Lord is that Spirit," or the Spirit.

This description of Christ was a proper inducement to Jews to believe on him; and it is still a necessary instruction to Christians, to regulate their expectations from him. But [we] think this age has made it particularly necessary to be well assured what Christ is to us: When that question is so differently resolved by the pious but weak accounts of some pretenders to faith on one hand, and by the clearer, but not perfectly Christian, accounts of some pretenders to reason on the other: While some derive from him a "righteousness of God," but in a sense somewhat improper and figurative; and others no more than a charter of pardon, and a system of morality: While some so interpret the gospel, as to place the holiness they are to be saved by in something divine, hut exterior to themselves; and others, so as to place it in things really within themselves, but not more than human. Now, the proper cure of what indistinctness there is one way, and what infidelity in the other, seems to be contained in the doctrine of my text: "The Lord is that Spirit."

In treating of which words, I will consider,

I. The nature of our fall in Adam; by which it will appear, that if "the Lord" were not "that Spirit," he could not be said to save or redeem us from our fallen condition.

II. I will consider the person of Jesus Christ; by which it will appear that "the Lord is that Spirit." And,

III. I will inquire into the nature and operations of the Holy Spirit, as bestowed upon Christians.

I. I am to consider the nature of our fall in Adam.

Our first parents did enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit; for they were created in the image and likeness of God, which was no other than his Spirit. By that he communicates himself to his creatures, and by that alone they can bear any likeness to him. It is, indeed, his life in them; and so properly divine, that, upon this ground, angels and regenerate men are called his children.

But when man would not be guided by the Holy Spirit, it left him. When be would be wise in his own way, and in his own strength, and did not depend in simplicity upon his heavenly Father, the seed of a superior life was recalled from him. For he was no longer fit to be formed into a heavenly condition, when he had so unworthy a longing for, or rather dependence upon, an earthly fruit, which he knew God would not bless to him; no longer fit to receive supernatural succours, when he could not be content with his happy state towards God, without an over-curious examination into it.

Then he found himself forsaken of God, and left to the poverty, weakness, and misery of his own proper nature. He was now a mere animal, like unto other creatures made of flesh and blood, but only possessed of a larger understanding; by means of which he should either be led into greater absurdities than they could be guilty of, or else be made sensible of his lost happiness, and put into the right course for regaining it; that is, if he continued a careless apostate, he should love and admire the goods of this world, the adequate happiness only of animals; and, to recommend them and dissemble their defects, add all the ornament to them that his superior wit could invent. Or else (which is indeed more above brutes, but no nearer the perfection of man as a partaker of God, than the other) he should frame a new world to himself in theory; sometimes by warm imaginations, and sometimes by cool reasonings, endeavour to aggrandize his condition and defend his practice, or at least divert himself from feeling his own meanness and disorder.

If, on the other hand, he should be willing to find out the miseries of his fall, his understanding might furnish him with reasons for constant mourning, for despising and denying himself; might point out the sad effects of turning away from God and losing his Spirit, in the shame and anguish of a nature at variance with itself; thirsting after immortality, and yet subject to death; approving righteousness, and yet taking pleasure in things inconsistent with it; feeling an immense want of something to perfect and satisfy all it faculties, and yet neither able to know what that mighty thing is, otherwise than from its present defects, nor how to attain it, otherwise than by going contrary to its present inclinations.

Well might Adam now find himself naked; nothing less than God was departed from him. Till then he had experienced nothing but the goodness and sweetness of God; a heavenly life spread itself through his whole frame, as if he were not made of dust; his mind was filled with angelic wisdom; a direction from above took him by the hand; he walked and thought uprightly, and seemed not to be a child or novice in divine things. But now he had other things to experience; something in his soul that he did not find, nor need to fear, while he was carried on straight forward by the gentle gale of divine grace; something in his body that he could not see nor complain of; while that body was covered with glory. He feels there a self-displeasure, turbulence, and confusion; such as is common to other spirits who have lost God: He sees here causes of present shame and a future dissolution; and a strong engagement to that grovelling life which is common to animals that never enjoyed the divine nature.

The general character, therefore, of man's present state is death, -- a death from God, whereby we no longer enjoy any intercourse with him, or happiness in him; we no longer shine with his glory, or act with his powers. It is true, while we have a being, "in him we must live, and move, and have our being;" but this we do now, not in a filial way, but only in a servile one, as all, even the meanest creatures, exist in him. It is one thing to receive from God an ability to walk and speak, eat and digest, -- to be supported by his hand as a part of this earthly creation, and upon the same terms with it, for farther trial or vengeance; and another, to receive from him a life which is his own likeness, -- to have within us something which is not of this creation, and which is nourished by his own immediate word and power.

Yet this is not the whole that is implied in man's sin. For he is not only inclined himself to all the sottishness of appetite, and all the pride of reason, but he is fallen under the tutorage of the evil one, who mightily furthers him in both. The state he was at first placed in, was a state of the most simple subjection to God, and this entitled him to drink of his Spirit; but when he, not content to be actually in Paradise, under as full a light of God's countenance as he was capable of; must know good and evil, and be satisfied upon rational grounds whether it was best for him to be as he was, or not; when, disdaining to be directed as a child, he must weigh every thing himself; and seek better evidence than the voice of his Maker and the seal of the Spirit in his heart; then he not only obeyed, but became like to, that eldest son of pride, and was unhappily entitled to frequent visits, or rather a continued influence, from him. As life was annexed to his keeping the command, and, accordingly, that Spirit, which alone could form it unto true life, dwelt in his body; so, being sentenced to death for his transgression, he was now delivered unto "him who has the power of death, that, is, the devil," whose hostile and unkindly impressions promote death and sin at once.

This being the state of man, if God should send him a Redeemer, what must that Redeemer do for him? Will it he sufficient for him to be the promulgator of a new law, -- to give us a set of excellent precepts? No: If we could keep them, that alone would not make us happy. A good conscience brings a man the happiness of being consistent with himself; but not that of being raised above himself into God; which every person will find, after all, is the thing he wants. Shall he be the fountain of an imputed righteousness, and procure the tenderest favour to all his followers? This is also not enough. Though a man should be allowed to be righteous, and be exempt from all punishment, yet if he is as really enslaved to the corruptions of nature, as endued with these privileges of redemption, he can hardly make himself easy; and whatever favour he can receive from God, here or hereafter, without a communication of himself; it is neither the cure of a spirit fallen, nor the happiness of one reconciled. Must not then our Redeemer be (according to the character which St. John, his forerunner, gave of him) one that "baptizeth with the Holy Ghost," -- the Fountain and Restorer of that to mankind, whereby they are restored to their first estate, and the enjoyment of God? And this is a presumptive argument that "the Lord is that Spirit."

II. But it will appear more plainly that he is so, from the Second thing proposed; which was the consideration of the person of Jesus Christ.

He was one to whom "God gave not the Spirit by measure: but in him dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead bodily; and of his fulness we have all received, and grace for grace." Indeed, all the communications of the Godhead, which any creatures could receive, were always from him as the Word of God; but all that mankind now in an earthly state were to receive, must be from him by means of that body, at first mortal, like unto theirs, and then glorious "in the likeness of God," which he took upon him for their sake.

In the beginning, the heavenly Word, -- being a Spirit that issued from the Father, and the Word of his power, -- made man an image of immortality, according to the likeness of the Father; but he who had been made in the image of God, afterwards became mortal, when the more powerful Spirit was separated from him. To remedy this, the Word became Man, that man by receiving the adoption might become a son of God once more; that the light of the Father might rest upon the flesh of our Lord, and come bright from thence unto us; and so man, being encompassed with the light of the Godhead, might be carried into immortality. When he was incarnate and became man, he recapitulated in himself all generations of mankind, making himself the centre of our salvation, that what we lost in Adam, even the image and likeness of God, we might receive in Christ Jesus. By the Holy Ghost coming upon Mary, and the power of the highest overshadowing her, the incarnation or Christ was wrought, and a new birth, whereby man should be born of God, was shown; that as by our first birth we did inherit death, so by this birth we might inherit life.

This is no other than what St. Paul teaches us: "The first man, Adam, was made a living soul, but the Second Adam was made a quickening spirit." All that the first man possessed of himself, all that he has transmitted to us, is "a living soul;" a nature endued with an animal life, and receptive of a spiritual. But the Second Adam is, and was made to us, "a quickening spirit;" by a strength from him as our Creator, we were at first raised above ourselves; by a strength from him as our Redeemer, we shall again live unto God.

In him is laid up for us that supplement to our nature, which we shall find the need of sooner or later; and that it cannot be countervailed by any assistance from the creatures, or any improvement of our own faculties: For we were made to be happy only in God; and all our labours and hopes, while we do not thirst after our deified state, -- to partake as truly of God as we do of flesh and blood, to be glorified in his nature, as we have been dishonoured in our own, -- are the labours and hopes of those who utterly mistake themselves.

The divine wisdom knew what was our proper consolation, though we did not. What does more obviously present itself in the Saviour of the world, than an union of man with God? -- an union attended with all the propriety of behaviour that we are called to, as candidates of the Spirit; such as walking with God in singleness of heart, perfect self-renunciation, and a life of sufferings, -- an union which submitted to the necessary stages of our progress; where the divine life was hid, for the most part, in the secret of the soul till death; in the state of separation, comforted the soul, but did not raise it above the intermediate region of Paradise; at the resurrection, clothed the body with heavenly qualities, and the powers of immortality; and at last raised it to the immediate presence and right hand of the Father.

Christ is not only God above us; which may keep us in awe, but cannot save; but he is Immanuel, God with us, and in us. As he is the Son of God, God must be where he is; and as he is the Son of man, he will be with mankind; the consequence of this is, that in the future age "the tabernacle of God will be with men," and he will show them his glory; and, at present, he will dwell in their hearts by faith in his Son.

I hope it sufficiently appears, that "the Lord is that Spirit. Considering what we are, and what we have been, nothing less than the receiving that Spirit again would be redemption to us; and considering who that heavenly person was that was sent to be our Redeemer, we can expect nothing less from him.

III. I proceed now to the Third thing proposed, viz., to inquire into the nature and operations of the Holy Spirit, as bestowed upon Christians.

And here I shall pass by the particular extraordinary gifts vouchsafed to the first ages for the edification of the Church and only consider what the Holy Spirit is to every believer, for his personal sanctification and salvation. It is not granted to every one to raise the dead, and heal the sick. What is most necessary is, to be sure, as to ourselves, that we are "passed from death unto life;" to keep our bodies pure and undefiled, and let them reap that health which flows from a magnanimous patience, and the serene joys of devotion. The Holy Spirit has enabled men to speak with tongues, and to prophesy; but the light that most necessarily attends it is a light to discern the fallacies of flesh and blood, to reject the irreligious maxims of the world, and to practice those degrees of trust in God and love to men, whose foundation is not so much in the present appearances of things, as in some that are yet to come. The object which this light brings us most immediately to know is ourselves; and by virtue of this, one that is born of God, and has a lively hope may indeed see far into the ways of Providence, and farther yet into the holy Scriptures; for the holy Scriptures, excepting some accidental and less necessary parts, are only a history of that new man which he himself is; and Providence is only a wise disposal of events for the awakening of particular persons, and ripening the world in general for the coming of Christ's kingdom.

But I think the true notion of the Spirit is, that it is some portion of, as well as preparation for, a life in God, which we are to enjoy hereafter. The gift of the Holy Spirit looks full to the resurrection; for then is the life of God completed in us.

Then, after man has passed through all the penalties of sin, the drudgery and vanity of human life, the painful reflections of an awakened mind, the infirmities and dissolution of the body, and all the sufferings and mortifications a just God shall lay in his way; when, by this means, he is come to know God and himself, he may safely be entrusted with true life, with the freedom and ornaments of a child of God; for he will no more arrogate anything to himself. Then shall the Holy Spirit be fully bestowed, when the flesh shall no longer resist it, but be itself changed into an angelical condition, being clothed upon with the incorruption of the Holy Spirit; when the body which, by being born with the soul, and living through it, could only be called an animal one, shall now become spiritual, whilst by the Spirit it rises into eternity.

Everything in Christianity is some kind of anticipation of something that is to be at the end of the world. If the Apostles were to preach by their Master's command, "that the kingdom of God drew nigh;" the meaning was, that from henceforth all men should fix their eyes on that happy time, foretold by the Prophets, when the Messiah should come and restore all things; that by renouncing their worldly conversation, and submitting to the gospel institution, they should fit themselves for, hasten, that blessing. "Now are we the sons of God," as St. John tells us; and yet what he imparts to us at present will hardly justify that title, without taking in that fulness of his image which shall then be displayed in us, when we shall be "the children of God, by being the children of the resurrection."

True believers, then, are entered upon a life, the sequel of which they know not; for it is "a life hid with Christ in God." He, the forerunner, hath attained the end of it, being gone unto the Father; but we can know no more of it than appeared in him while he was upon earth. And even that, we shall not know but by following his steps; which if we do, we shall be so strengthened and renewed day by day in the inner man, that we shall desire no comfort from the present world through a sense of "the joy set before us;" though, as to the outward man, we shall be subject to distresses and decays, and treated as the offscouring of all things.

Well may a man ask his own heart, whether it is able to admit the Spirit of God. For where that divine Guest enters, the laws of another world must be observed: The body must be given up to martyrdom, or spent in the Christian warfare, as unconcernedly as if the soul were already provided of its house from heaven; the goods of this world must be parted with as freely, as if the last fire were to seize them to-morrow; our neighbour must be loved as heartily as if he were washed from all his sins, and demonstrated to be a child of God by the resurrection from the dead. The fruits of this Spirit must not be mere moral virtues, calculated for the comfort and decency of the present life; but holy dispositions, suitable to the instincts of a superior life already begun.

Thus to press forward, whither the promise of life calls him, -- to turn his back upon the world, and comfort himself in God, -- every one that has faith perceives to be just and necessary, and forces himself to do it: Every one that has hope, does it gladly and eagerly, though not without difficulty; but he that has love does it with ease and singleness of heart.

The state of love, being attended with "joy unspeakableand full of glory," with rest from the passions and vanities of man, with the integrity of an unchangeable judgment, and an undivided will, is, in a great measure, its own reward; yet not so as to supersede the desire of another world. For though such a man, having a free and insatiable love of that which is good, may seldom have need formally to propose to himself the hopes of retribution, in order to overcome his unwillingness to his duty; yet surely he must long for that which is best of all; and feel a plain attraction towards that country in which he has his place and station already assigned him; and join in the earnest expectation of all creatures, which wait for the manifestation of the sons of God. For now we obtain but some part of his Spirit, to model and fit us for incorruption, that we may, by degrees, be accustomed to receive and carry God within us; and, therefore, the Apostle calls it, "the earnest of the Spirit;' that is, a part of that honour which is promised us by the Lord. If, therefore, the earnest, abiding in us, makes us spiritual even now, and that which is mortal is, as it were, swallowed up of immortality; how shall it be when, rising again, we shall see him face to face? when all our members shall break to forth into songs of triumph, and glorify Him who hath raised them from the dead, and granted them everlasting life? For if this earnest or pledge, embracing man into itself, makes him now cry, "Abba, Father;" what shall the whole grace of the Spirit do, when, being given at length to believers, it shall make us like unto God, and perfect us through the will of the Father?

And thus I have done what was at first proposed: I have considered the nature of our fall in Adam; the person of Jesus Christ; and the operations of the Holy Spirit in Christians.

The only inference I will draw from what has been said, and principally from the account of man's fall, shall be, the reasonableness of those precepts of self-denial, daily suffering, and renouncing the world, which are so peculiar to Christianity, and which are the only foundation whereon the other virtues, recommended in the New Testament, can be practised or attained, in the sense there intended.

This inference is so natural, that I could not help anticipating it in some measure all the while. One would think it should be no hard matter to persuade a creature to abhor the badges of his misery; to dislike a condition or mansion which only banishment and disgrace have assigned him; to trample on the grandeur, refuse the comforts, and suspect the wisdom of a life whose nature it is to separate him from his God.

Your Saviour bids you "hate your own life." If you ask the reason, enter into your heart, see whether it be holy, and full of God; or whether, on the other hand, many things that are contrary to him are wrought there, and it is become a plantation of the enemy. Or, if this is too nice an inquiry, look upon your body. Do you find there the brightness of an angel, all the vigour of immortality? If not, be sure your soul is in the same degree of poverty, nakedness, and absence from God. It is true, your soul may sooner he re-admitted to some rays of the light of God's countenance, than your body can; but if you would take any step at all towards it, to dislike your present self must be the first.

You want a reason why you should renounce the world. Indeed you cannot see the prince of it walking up and down,

"seeking whom he may devour;" and you may be so far ignorant of his devices, as not to know that they take place, as well in the most specious measures of business and learning, as in the wildest pursuits of pleasure. But this, however, you cannot but see, that the world is not still a paradise of God, guarded and ennobled with the light of glory; it is, indeed, a place where God has determined he will not appear to you at best, but leave you in a state of hope, that you shall see his face when this world is dissolved.

However, there is a way to rescue ourselves, in great measure, from the ill consequences of our captivity; and our Saviour has taught us that way. It is by suffering. We must not only "suffer many things," as he did, and so enter into our glory; but we must also suffer many things, that we may get above our corruption at present, and enjoy the Holy Spirit.

The world has no longer any power over us, than we have a quick relish of its comforts; and suffering abates that. Suffering is, indeed, a direct confutation of the pretences which the flattering tempter gains us by: For I am in human life; and if that life contains such soft ease, ravishing pleasure, glorious eminence, as you promise, why am I thus? Is it because I have not yet purchased riches to make me easy, or the current accomplishments to make me considerable. Then I find that all the comfort you propose is by leading me off from myself; but I will rather enter deep into my own condition, bad as it is: Perhaps I shall be nearer to God, the Eternal Truth, in feeling sorrows and miseries that are personal and real, than in feeling comforts that are not so. I begin already to find that all my grievances centre in one point: There is always at the bottom one great loss or defect, which is not the want of friends or gold, of health or philosophy. And the abiding sense of this may possibly become a prayer in the ears of the Most High; -- a prayer not resulting from a set of speculative notions, but from the real, undissembled state of all that is within me; nor, indeed, so explicit a prayer as to describe the thing I want, but, considering how strange a want mine is, as explicit a one as I can make. Since, then, suffering opens me a door of hope, I will not put it from me as long as I live: It helps me to a true discovery of one period of my existence, though it is a low one; and bids fairer for having some connexion with a more glorious period that may follow, than the arts of indulgence, the amusements of pride and sloth, and all the dark policy of this world, which wage war with the whole truth, that man must know and feel, before he can look towards God. It may be, while I continue on the cross, I shall, like my Saviour, put off "principalities and powers;" recover myself more and more from the subjection I am indeed in (which he only seemed to be) to those wicked rulers, and to "triumph over them in it." At least, it shall appear, in the day when God shall visit, that my heart, though grown unworthy of his residence, was too big to be comforted by any of his creatures; and was kept for him, as a place originally sacred, though for the present unclean.

But supposing that our state does require of us to "die daily," -- to sacrifice all that this present life can boast of, or is delighted with, before we give up life itself; supposing also, that in the hour we do somewhat of this kind, we receive light and strength from God, to grow superior to our infirmities, and are carried smoothly towards him in the joy of the Holy Ghost; yet how can a man have such frequent opportunities of suffering? Indeed, martyrdoms do not happen in every age, and some days of our lives may pass without reproaches from men; we may be in health, and not want food to eat and raiment to put on; (though health itself, and nutrition itself, oblige us to the pain of a constant correction of them;) yet still, the love of God and heavenly hope will not want something to oppress them in this world.

Let a man descend calmly into his heart, and see if there be no root of bitterness springing up; whether, at least, his thoughts, which are ever in motion, do not sometimes sally out into projects suggested by pride, or sink into indolent trifling, or be entangled in mean anxiety. Does not he find a motion of anger, or of gaiety, leavening him in an instant throughout; depriving him of the meekness and steady discernment he laboured after? Or, let him but conceive at any time, that unfeigned obedience, and watchful zeal, and dignity of behaviour, which, is suitable, I do not say to an angel, but to a sinner that has "a good hope through grace," and endeavour to work himself up to it; and if he find no sort of obstacle to this within him, he has indeed then no opportunity of suffering. In short, if he is such an abject sort of creature, as will, unless grace should do him a perpetual violence, relapse frequently into a course of thinking and acting entirely without God; then he can never want occasions of suffering, but will find his own nature to he the same burden to him, as that "faithless and perverse generation" was to our Saviour, of whom he said, "How long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer you?"

I will conclude all with that excellent Collect of our Church: -- "O God, who in all ages hast taught the hearts of thy faithful people, by sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit; grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to rejoice in his holy comfort, through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen."

[156] [text from the 1872 edition]

[157] Preached at St. Mary's, Oxford, on Whitsunday, 1736.

Primitive Physic, or, An Easy and Natural Method of Curing Most Diseases (Edinburgh, 1846)

PRIMITIVE PHYSIC

EASY AND NATURAL METHOD

CURING MOST DISEASES.

By JOHN WESLEY, M.A.

Homo sum ; human i nihil a me alienum puto.

NEW EDITION,

EDINBURGH: PUBLISHED BY THORNTON & COLLIE,

19, South St David Street.

1846.

PREFACE.

When man came first out of the hands of the Great Creator, clothed in body as well as in soul, with immortality and incorruption, there was no place for physic, or the art of healing. As he knew no sin, so he knew no pain, no sickness, weakness, or bodily disorder. The habitation wherein the angelic mind, the Bivince Particula Aurce abode, although originally formed out of the dust of the earth, was liable to no decay. It had no seeds of corruption or dissolution within itself. And there was nothing without to injure it : heaven and earth, and all the hosts of them were mild, benign, and friendly to human nature. The entire creation was at peace with man, so long as man was at peace with his Creator. So that well might " the morning-stars sing together, and all the sons of God shout for joy."

2. But since man rebelled against the Sovereign of heaven and earth, how entirely is the scene changed ! The incorruptible frame hath put on corruption, the immortal has put on mortality. The seeds of weakness and pain, of sickness and death, are now lodged in our inmost substance ; whence a thousand disorders continually spring, even without the aid of external violence. And how is the number of these increased by every thing round about us ? The heavens, the earth, and all things contained therein, conspire to pun- ish the rebels against their Creator. The sun and moon shed unwholesome influences from above ; the earth exhales poisonous damps from beneath : the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, the

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fishes of the sea, are in a state of hostility : the air itself that surrounds us on every side, is replete with the shafts of death : yea, the food we eat, daily saps the foundation of that life which cannot be sustained without it. So has the Lord of all secured the execution of his decree, — " Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return."

3. But can there nothing be found to lessen those inconveniences which cannot be wholly removed, to soften the evils of life, and prevent in part the sickness and pain to which we are continually ex- posed ? Without question there may. One grand preventative of pain and sickness of various kinds, seems intimated by the grand Author of Nature in the very sentence that entails death upon us : " In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return to the ground." The power of exercise, both to preserve and restore health, is greater than can well be conceived ; especially in those who add temperance thereto ; who, if they do not confine themselves altogether to eat either 11 bread or the herb of the field," (which God does not require them to do) yet steadily observe both that kind and measure of food which experience shows to be most friendly to health and strength.

4. It is probable, Physic as well as Religion, was in the first ages chiefly traditional ; every father delivering down to his sons what he had himself in like manner received, concerning the manner of healing both outward hurts and the diseases in- cident to each climate, and the medicines which were of the greatest efficacy for the cure of each disorder. It is certain this is the method wherein the art of healing is preserved among the Arneri^ cans to this day. Their diseases, indeed, are ex-

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eeeding few, nor do they often occur, by reason of their continual exercise, and, (till of late) uni- versal temperance. But if any are sick, or bit by a serpent, or torn by a wild beast, the fathers im- mediately tell their children what remedy to apply. And it is rare that the patient suffers long ; those medicines being quick, as well as generally infal- lible.

5. Hence it was, perhaps, that the Ancients, not only of Greece and Rome, but even of barbarous nations, usually assigned physic a divine original. And indeed it was a natural thought, that He who had taught it to the very beasts and birds, the Cretan stag, the Egyptian ibis, could not be want- ing to teach man,

Sanctius Animal, mentisque capacius sltee: Yea, sometimes even by those meaner creatures, for it was easy to infer, " If this will heal that creature whose flesh is nearly of the same texture with mine, then in a parallel case it will heal me." The trial was made ; the cure was wrought ; and Experience and Physic grew up together.

6. And has not the Author of Nature taught us the use of many other medicines, by what is vulgarly termed accident ? Thus, one walking some years since in a grove of pines, at a time when many in the neighbouring town were afflict- ed with a kind of new distemper, little sores in the inside of the mouth, a drop of the natural gum fell from one of the trees on the book which he was reading. This he took up, and thoughtlessly ap- plied to one of those sore places. Finding the pain immediately cease, he applied it to another, which was also presently healed. The same remedy he afterwards imparted to others, and it did not fail

a 3

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to heal any that applied it. And, doubtless, numberless remedies have been thus casually dis- covered in every age and nation.

7. Thus far physic was wholly founded on ex- periment. The European, as well as the Ameri- can, said to his neighbour, Are you sick ? drink the juice of this herb, and your sickness will be at an end. Are you in a burning heat ? leap into that river, and then sweat till you are well. Has the snake bitten you? chew and apply that root, and the poison will not hurt you. Thus ancient men, having a little experience joined with com- mon sense and common humanity, cured both themselves and their neighbours of most of the distempers to which every nation was subject.

8. But, in process of time, men of a philoso- phical turn were not satisfied with this. They began to inquire how they might account for these things ? How such medicines wrought such effects? They examined the human body, and all its parts ; the nature of the flesh, veins, arte- ries, nerves ; the structure of the brain, heart, lungs, stomach, bowels ; with the springs of the several kinds of animal functions. They explored the several kinds of animal and mineral, as well as vegetable substances. And hence the whole order of physic, which had obtained to that time, came gradually to be inverted. Men of learning began to set experience aside ; to build physic upon hypotheses ; to form theories of diseases and their cure, and to substitute these in the place of experiments.

9. As theories increased, simple medicines were more and more disregarded and disused ; till in a course of years the greater part of them

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were forgotten, at least in the politer nations. In the room of these, abundance of new ones were introduced by reasoning, speculative men ; and those more and more difficult to be applied, as being more remote from common observation. Hence rules for the application of these, and me- dical books were immensely multiplied ; till at length physic became an abstruse science, quite out of the reach of ordinary men.

• 10. Physicians now began to be had in admi- ration, as persons who were something more than human. And profit attended their employ, as well as honour ; so that they had now two weighty reasons for keeping the bulk of mankind at a dis- tance, that they might not pry into the mysteries of the profession. To this end, they increased those difficulties by design, which began in a manner by accident. They filled their writings with abundance of technical terms, utterly unin- telligible to plain men. They affected to deliver their rules, and to reason upon them, in an ab- struse and philosophical manner. They repre- sented the critical knowledge of Anatomy, Natural Philosophy and what not ? (some of them insist- ing on that of Astronomy, and Astrology too) as necessarily previous to the understanding the art of healing. Those who understood only how to restore the sick to health, they branded with the name of Empirics. They introduced into prac- tice abundance of compound medicines, consist- ing of so many ingredients, that it was scarce possible for common people to know which it was that wrought the cure ; abundance of eloties, neither the nature nor names of which their own countrymen understood ; of chymicals, such as

Vlll

they neither had skill, nor fortune, nor time to prepare ; yea, and of dangerous ones, such as they could not use, without hazarding life, but by the advice of a physician. And thus both their honour and gain were secured, a vast majority of mankind being utterly cut off from helping either themselves or their neighbours, or once daring to attempt it.

11. Yet there have not been wanting, from time to time, some lovers of mankind, who have endeavoured (even contrary to their own interest) to reduce physic to its ancient standard ; who have laboured to explode out of it all hypotheses and fine-spun theories, and to make it a plain in- telligible thing, as it was in the beginning ; having no more mystery in it than this, " Such a medi- cine removes such a pain." These have demon- strably shown, that neither the knowledge of Astrology, Astronomy, Natural Philosophy, nor even Anatomy itself, is absolutely necessary to the quick and effectual cure of most diseases in- cident to human bodies ; nor yet any chymical, or exotic, or compound medicine, but a single plant or root duly applied. So that every man of common sense (unless in some rare cases) may prescribe either to himself or his neighbour ; and may be very secure from doing harm, even where he can do no good.

12. Even in the last age there was something of this kind done, particularly by the great and good Dr Sydenham, and in the present by his pupil, Dr Dover, who has pointed out simple me- dicines for many diseases. And some such may be found in the writings of the learned and ingenious Dr Chcync, who. doubtless, would have

IX communicated many more to the world, but for the melancholy reason he gave one of his friends that prest him with some passages in his works, which too much countenanced the modern prac- tice, " O Sir, we must do something to oblige the Faculty, or they will tear us in pieces."

13. Without any regard to this, without any concern about the obliging or disobliging any man living, a mean hand has made here some little attempt towards a plain and easy way of curing most diseases. I have only consulted herein experience, common sense, and the com- mon interest of mankind. And supposing they can be cured this easy way, who would desire to use any other ? Who would not wish to have a physician always in his house, and one that at- tends without fee or reward ? to be able (unless in some few complicated cases) to prescribe to his family, as well as himself ?

14. If it be said, but what need is there of such attempt ? I answer, the greatest that can possi- bly be conceived. Is it not needful, in the highest degree, to rescue men from the jaws of destruc- tion ? — from wasting their fortunes, as thousands have done, and continue to do daily ? — from pining away in sickness and pain, either through the ignorance or dishonesty of physicians ? Yea, and many times throwing away their lives, after their health, time, and substance.

Is it inquired, but are there not books enough already, on every part of the art of medicine ? Yes, too many, ten times over, considering how little to the purpose the far greater part of them speak. But, beside this, they are too dear for poor men to buy, and too hard for plain men to

X

understand. Do you say, " But there are enough of these collections of receipts." Where ? I have not seen one yet, either in our own or any other tongue, which contains only safe, and cheap, and easy medicines. In all that have yet fallen into my hand, I find many dear and many far-fetched medicines ; besides many of so dangerous a kind, as a prudent man would never meddle with. And against the greater part of those medicines there is a further objection ; they consist of too many ingredients. The common method of compounding and de-compounding me- dicines can never be reconciled to common sense. Experience shows that one thing will cure most disorders, at least as well as twenty put together. Then why do you add the other nineteen ? Only to swell the apothecary's bill ; nay, possibly, on purpose to prolong the distemper, that the doctor and he may divide the spoil.

But admitting there is some quality in the medicine proposed which has need to be corrected ; will not one thing correct it as well as twenty ? It is probable, much better. And if not, there is a sufficiency of other medicines which need no such correction.

How often, by thus compounding medicines of opposite qualities, is the virtue of both utterly de- stroyed? Nay, how often do those joined together destroy life, which, singly, might have preserved it? This occasioned that caution of the great Boerhave, against mixing things without evident necessity, and without full proof of the effect they will produce when joined together, as well as of that they produced when asunder ; seeing (as he

XI

observes) several things, which separately taken are safe and powerful medicines, when com- pounded, not only lose their former powers, but commence a strong and deadly poison.

15. As to the manner of using the medicines here set down, I should advise, as soon as you know your distemper, (which is very easy, unless in a complication of disorders, and then you would do well to apply to a physician that fears God,) First, Use the first of the remedies for that dis- ease which occurs in the ensuing collection (un- less some other of them be easier to be had, and then it may do just as well). Secondly, After a competent time, if it takes no effect, use the se- cond, the third, and so on. I have purposely set down (in most cases) several remedies for each disorder ; not only because all are not equally easy to be procured at all times and in all places ; but likewise because the medicine which cures one man, will not always cure another of the same distemper. Nor will it cure the same man at all times. Therefore, it was necessary to have a va- riety. However, I have subjoined the letter (I) to those medicines which some think to be infallible. Thirdly, Observe all the time the greatest exact- ness in your regimen, or manner of living. Ab- stain from all mixed, all high-seasoned food. Use plain diet, easy of digestion ; and this as sparingly as you can, consistent with ease and strength. Drink only water, if it agrees with your stomach ; if not, good clear small-beer. Use as much exer- cise daily in the open air as you can without weariness. Sup at six or seven, on the lightest food, go to bed early, and rise betimes. To per- severe witli *teadines.« in this course is often more

XII

than half the cure. Above all, add to the rest (for it is not labour lost) that old unfashionable medicine, prayer ; and have faith in God, who " killeth and maketh alive, who bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up."

16. For the sake of those who desire, through the blessing of God, to retain the health which they have recovered, I have added a few plain, easy Rules, chiefly transcribed from Dr Cheyne.

I. — 1. The air we breathe is of great conse- quence to our health. Those who have been long abroad in easterly or northerly winds, should drink some thin and warm liquor going to bed, or a draught of toast and water.

2. Tender people should have those who lie with them, or are much about them, sound, sweet, and healthy.

3. Every one that would preserve health, should be as clean and sweet as possible, in their houses, clothes, and furniture.

II. — 1. The great rule of eating and drinking, is, to suit the quality and quantity of the food to the strength of our digestion ; to take always such a sort and such a measure of food as sits light and easy on the stomach.

2. All pickled, or smoked, or salted food, and all high-seasoned, is unwholesome.

3. Nothing conduces more to health, than abstinence and plain food, with due labour.

4. For studious persons, about eight ounces of animal food, and twelve of vegetable, in twenty- four hours, is sufficient.

5. Water is the wholesomest of all drinks ; quickens the appetite, and strengthens the diges- tion most.

Xlll

6. Strong, and more especially spirituous liquors, are a certain, though slow, poison.

7. Experience shows, there is very seldom any danger in leaving them off all at once.

8. Strong liquors do not prevent the mischiefs of a surfeit, nor carry it off so safely as water.

9. Malt liquors (except clear small beer, or small ale of due age,) are exceeding hurtful to tender persons.

1 0. Coffee and tea are extremely hurtful to per- sons who have weak nerves.

III. — 1. Tender persons should eat very light suppers ; and that two or three hours before going to bed.

2. They ought constantly to go to bed about nine, and rise at four or five.

IV. — 1, A due degree of exercise is indispens- ably necessary to health and long life.

2. Walking is the best exercise for those who are able to bear it ; riding, for those who are not. The open air, when the weather is fair, contributes much to the benefit of exercise.

3. We may strengthen any weak part of the body by constant exercise. Thus the lungs may be strengthened by loud speaking, or walking up an easy ascent; the digestion and the nerves, by riding ; the arms and hams, by strongly rubbing them daily.

4. Tha studious ought to have stated times for ex- ercise, at least two or three hours a-day : the one half of this before dinner, the other before going to bed.

5. They should frequently shave, and frequently wash their feet.

6. Those who read or write much, should learn to do it standing ; otherwise it will impair their health.

XIV

7. The fewer clothes any one use,?, by day pr night, the hardier he will be.

8. Exercise, first, should be always on an empty stomach ; secondly, should never be continued to weariness ; thirdly, after it, we should take care to cool by degrees, otherwise we shall catch cold,

9. The flesh brush is a most useful exercise, especially to strengthen any part that is weak.

1 0. Cold bathingis of great advantage to health : It prevents abundance of diseases. It promotes perspiration, helps the circulation of the blood, and prevents the danger of catching cold. Tender people should pour water upon the head before they go in, and walk in swiftly. To jump in with the head foremost, is too great a shock to nature.

V. — I. Costiveness cannot long consist with -health. Therefore care should be taken to remove it at the beginning : and when it is removed, to prevent its return, by soft, cool, open diet.

2. Obstructed perspiration (vulgarly called catching cold,) is one great source of diseases. Whenever there appears the least sign of this, let it be removed by gentle sweats.

VI.— 1. The passions have a greater influence on health than most people are aware of.

2. All violent and sudden passions dispose to, or actually throw people into acute diseases.

3. The slow and lasting passions, such as grief and hopeless love, bring on chronical diseases.

4. Till the passion which caused the disease is calmed, medicine is applied in vain.

5. The love of God, as it is the sovereign remedy of all miseries, so in particular, it effectually pre- vents all the bodily disorders the passions intro- duce, by keeping the passions themselves within

XV

due bounds. And by the unspeakable joy and perfect calm, serenity, and tranquillity it gives the mind, it becomes the most powerful of all the means of health and long life. London, llth June, 1747.

POSTSCRIPT.

1. It was a great surprise to the Editor of the following collection, that there was so swift and large a demand for it ; that three impressions were called for in four or five years ; and that it was not only republished by the Booksellers of a neigh- bouring nation ; but also inserted by part in their public papers, and so propagated through the whole kingdom. This encouraged him carefully to revise the whole, and to publish it again, with several alterations, which it is hoped may make it of greater use to those who love common sense and common honesty.

2. Those alterations are still in pursuance of my first design, to set down cheap, safe, and easy medicines ; easy to be known, easy to be procured, and easy to be applied by plain, unlettered men. Accordingly, I have omitted a considerable num- ber, which though cheap and safe, were not so common or well known ; and have added at least an equal number, to which tha* objection cannot be made : which are not only of small price, and extremely safe, but likewise easily to be found, if not in every house or yard, yet in every town, and almost every village throughout the kingdom.

3. It is because they are not safe, but extremely dangerous, that I have omitted, (together with Antimony,) the four Herculean medicines, Opium,

XVI the Bark, Steel,* and most of the preparations of Quicksilver. Herculean indeed ! Far too strong for common men to grapple with. How many fatal effects have been produced, even in the hands of no ordinary Physicians ! With regard to four of these, the instances are glaring and undeniable. And whereas Quicksilver, the fifth, is in its native form as innocent as bread or water : has not the art been discovered, so to prepare it as to make it the most deadly of all poisons ? These, Physi- cians have justly termed edged tools. But they have not yet taught them to wound at a distance : and honest men are under no necessity of touching them, or coming within their reach.

4. Instead of these, I have once more ventured to recommend to men of plain, unbiassed reason, such remedies as air, water, milk, whey, honey, treacle, salt, vinegar, and common English herbs, with a few foreign medicines, almost equally cheap, safe, and common. And this I have done on that principle, whereby I desire to be governed in all my actions, " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, the same do unto them."

5. At the request of many persons, I have like- wise added plain definitions of most distempers ; not indeed accurate or philosophical definitions, but such as are suited to men of ordinary ca- pacities, and as may just enable them, in common simple cases, to* distinguish one disease from another. In uncommon or complicated diseases, where life is more immediately in danger, I again advise every man without delay to apply to a Physician that fears God.

Bristol, 16th October, 1755.

* Except in a very few cases.

XVII

London, Nov. 10, 1760.

During the observation and experience of more than live years, which have passed since the last impression of this book, I have had many oppor- tunities of trying the virtues of the ensuing Re- medies. Aud I haven ow added the word ( Tried) to those which I have found to be of the greatest efficacy. I believe many others to be of equal virtue : but it has not lain in my way to make the trial.

In this course of time, I have likewise had occa- sion to collect several other remedies, tried either by myself or others, which are inserted under their proper heads. Some of these I have found to be of uncommon virtue, equal to any of those which were before published ; and one, I must aver, from personal knowledge, grounded on a thousand experiments, to be far superior to all the other medicines I have known ; I mean Electri- city. I cannot but entreat all those who are well- wishers to mankind, to make full proof of this Certainly it comes the nearest an universal medi- cine of any yet known in the world.

One grand advantage which most of these medi- cines have above those commonly used, is this : you may be sure of having them good in their kind ; pure, genuine, unsophisticated. But who can be sure of this, when the medicines , he uses are compounded by an apothecary ? Perhaps he has not the drug prescribed by the physician, and so puts in its place " what will do as well." Per- haps he has it ; but it is stale and perished ; yet u you would not have him throw it away. Iudeed, he cannot afford it." Perhaps he cannot afford to make up the medicine as the Dispensatory

b 3

XV111 directs, and sell it at the common price, so he puts in cheaper ingredients, and you take, neither you nor the physician knows what ! How many inconveniences must this occasion ! How many constitutions are ruined hereby ! How many valuable lives are lost ! Whereas, all these in- conveniences may be prevented, by a little care and common sense, in the use of those plain, simple Remedies, which are here collected.

Otley, April 20, 1780.

Since the last correction of this book, near twenty years ago, abundance of objections have been made to several parts of it. These I have considered with all the attention which I was master of ; and, in consequence hereof, have now omitted many articles, and altered many others. I have likewise added a considerable number of medicines, several of which have been but lately discovered ; and several (although they had been long in use,) I had never tried before. But I still advise, " in complicated cases, or where life is in immediate danger, let every one apply with- out delay, to a physician that fears God." From one who does not, be his fame ever so great, I should expect a curse rather than a blessing.

*** Most of those medicines which J prefer to the rest, are now marked with an asterisk.

Primitive Physic: Collection of Receipts

COLLECTION OF RECEIPTS.

1. Abortion, (to prevent.)

1 . Women of a weak or relaxed habit, should use solid food, avoiding great quantities of tea, and other weak and watery liquors. They should go soon to bed, and rise early ; and take frequent exercise, but avoid being over-fatigued.

2. If of a full habit, they ought to use a spare diet, and chiefly of the vegetable kind, avoiding strong liquors, and every thing that may tend to heat the body, or increase the quantity of blood.

In the first case, take daily half a pint of decoc- tion of Lignum Guaiacum ; boiling an ounce of it in a quart of water for five minutes.

In the latter case, give half a drachm of powder- ed Nitre, in a cup of water-gruel, every five or six hours. In both cases, she should sleep on a hard mattress, with her head low, and be kept cool and quiet.

2. For an Ague.f

3. Go into the cold bath, just before the cold fit.

Nothing tends more to prolong an Ague, than indulging a lazy indolent disposition. The patient ought, therefore, between the fits, to take as much exercise as he can bear; and to use a light diet; and for common drink, Lemonade is the most proper.

When all other means fail, give Blue Vitriol, from one grain to two grain*, in the absence of

■f An Ague is an intermitting fever, each fit of which is

20

the fit ; and repeat it three or four times in twenty-four hours.

4. Or take a handful of Groundsell, shred it small, put it into a paper-bag, four inches square, pricking that side which is to be next the skin, full of holes. Cover this with a thin linen, and wear it on the pit of the stomach, renewing it two hours before the fit. Tried.

5. Or apply to the stomach, a large Onion slit.

6. Or, melt two penny worth of Frankincense, spread it on linen, grate a Nutmeg upon it, cover it with linen, and hang this bag upon the pit of the stomach. I have never yet known it fail.

7. Or Boil Yarrow in new milk, till it is tender enough to spread as a plaster. An hour before the cold fit, apply this to the wrists, and let it be on till the hot fit is over. If another fit comes, use a fresh plaster. This often cures a Quartan.

8. Or drink a quart of cold water, just before the cold fit. Then go to bed and sweat.

9. Or make six middling pills of Cobwebs. Take one a little before the cold fit, two a little before the next fit, (suppose the next day,) the other three, if need be, a little before the third fit. This seldom fails. Or put a tea-spoonful of Salt of Tartar into a large glass of spring water, and drink it by little and little. Repeat the same dose the next two days, before the time of the fit,

10. Or two small tea spoonfuls of Sal Frunellw an hour before the fit. It commonly cures in thrice taking.

11. Or a large spoonful of powdered Camomile Flowers.

*12. Or a tea-spoonful of pirits of Jfartshorn, in a glass of water.

21

13. Or eat a small Lemon, rind and all.

14. In the hot fit, if violent, take eight or ten drops of Laudanum ; if costive, in Hiera-picra.

15. Dr Lind says, an Ague is certainly cured, by taking from ten to twenty drops of Laudanum, with two drachms of Syrup of Poppies, in any warm liquid, half an hour after the heat begins.

It is proper to take a gentle vomit, and sometimes a purge, before you use any of these medicines. If a vomit is taken two hours before the fit is expected, it generally prevents that fit, and sometimes cures an Ague, especially in children. It is also proper to repeat the medicine (whatever it be,) about a week after, in order to prevent a relapse. Do not take any purge soon after. The daily use of the flesh brush, and frequent eold bathing, are of great use to prevent relapses.

16. Children have been cured by wearing a waistcoat, in which Bark was quilted.

3. A Tertian Ague.-f

17. Is often cured by taking a purge one day; and the next, bleeding in the beginning of the fit.

18. Or take a tea-spoonful of Salt of Tartar in spring-water. This often cures double tertians, triple quartans, and long lasting fevers ; especially if Senna be premised twice or thrice.

*19. Or apply to each wrist, a plaister of Treacle and Soot. Tried.

20, Or use the Cold Bath. (Unless you are of an advanced age, or extremely weak.) But when you use this on any account whatever, it is proper,

1. To bleed or purge, before you begin.

2. To go in cool ; to immerge at once, but not

•J- That is, an Ague which returns every other day.

22

head-foremost ; to stay in only two or three min- utes, or less, at first.

3. Never to bathe on a full stomach.

4. To bathe twice or thrice a- week at least, till you haye bathed nine or ten times.

5. To sweat immediately after it (going to bed) in palsies, rickets, and all diseases wherein the nerves are obstructed.

6. You may use yourself to it without any dan- ger, by beginning in May, and at first just plung- ing in, and coming out immediately. But many have begun in winter without any inconvenience.

4. A Double Tertian.

21. Take before the fit, (after a purge or two) three ounces of ChicJiory Water, half a drachm of Salt of Tartar, and fifteen drops of Spirit of Sulphur.

22. To perfect the cure, on the fourth day after you miss the fit, take two drachms of Senna, half a Drachm of Salt of Tartar, infused all night in four ounces of Chichory Water. Strain it and drink it.

5. A Quartan Ague.\

23. Apply to the suture of the head, when the fit is coming, Wall Julyflowers, beating together leaves and flowers with a little salt. Keep it on till the hot fit is over. Repeat this if need be.

24. Use strong exercise, (as riding or walking, as far as you can bear it,) an hour or two before the fit. If possible, continue it till the fit begins. This alone will frequently cure. Tried.

■f That is, an Ague which misses two days ; coming on Monday, (suppose) and again an Thursday.

23

25. Or Jipply to the wrists a plaster of Turpen- tine ; or of bruised Pepper, mixt with Treacle.

26. Or apply Oil of Turpentine to the small of the back, before the fit.

*27. For a Tertian or Quartan, vomit with ten grains of ipecacuanha an hour before the cold fit begins ; then go to bed, and continue a large sweat bj Lemonade (that is, lemon, sugar, and water,) for six or eight hours. This usually cures in three or four times. If it does not, use the Cold Bath between the fits.

28. Or take twenty grains of powdered Saffron before the fit, in a glass of white wine.

6. St Anthony's Fire.-f

*29. Take a glass of Tar- Water warm, in bed, every hour, washing the part with the same.

Tar Water is made thus : — Put a gallon of cold water to a quart of Norway tar. Stir them together with a flat stick for five or six minutes. After it has stood covered for three days, pour off the water clear, hottle and cork it.

*.30. Or take a decoction of Elder Leaves, as a sweat, applying to the part a cloth dipt in Lime- Water, mixed with a little camphorated Spirits of Wine.

Lime Water is made thus : — Infuse a pound of good quick lime in six quarts of spring water for twenty-four hours. Decant and keep it for use.

31. Or take two or three gentle purges. No acute fever bears repeated purges better than

•f- St Anthony"1 s Fire is a fever attended with a red and painful swelling, full of pimples, which afterwards turn into small blisters, on the face or some other part of the body. The sooner the eruption is, the less danger. Let your diet be only water-gruel, or barley-broth, with roasted apples.

24

this, especially wlien it affects the head. Mean- time boil a handful of Sage, two handfuls of Elder Leaves (or Bark) and an ounce of Alum in two quarts of forge water, to a pint. Wash with this every night.

32. If the pulse be low, and the spirits sunk, nourishing broths and a little negus may be given to advantage.

33. Or let three drachms of Nitre be dissolved in as much Elder-Flower Tea as the patient can drink in twenty-four hours. If the disease at- tacks the head, bleeding is necessary.

Dressing the inflammation with greasy oint- ments, salves, &c, is very improper.

34. Bathing the feet and legs in warm water is serviceable, and often relieves the patient much. In Scotland the common people cover the part with a linen cloth covered with meal.

7. The Apoplexy. f

35. To prevent, use the Cold Bath, and drink only water.

*36. In the fit, put a handful of Salt into a pint of cold water, and, if possible, pour it down the throat of the patient. He will quickly come to himself ; so will one who seems dead by a fall. But. send for a good physician immediately.

*37. If the fit be soon after a meal, do not bleed, but vomit.

*38. Rub the head, feet, and hands strongly, and let two strong men carry the patient upright backward and forward about the room.

•[• An Apoplexy is a total loss of all sense and voluntary motion, commonly attended with a strong pulse, hard breathing, and snorting.

.25

39. A Seton in the neck, with low diet, ha* often prevented a relapse.

There is a wide difference between the San- guineous and Serous Apoplexy. The latter is often followed by a palsy. The former is distin- guished by the countenance appearing florid, the face swelled or puffed up, and the blood-vessels, especially about the neck and temples, are tur- gid ; the pulse beats strong, the eyes are promi- nent and fixed, and the breathing is difficult, and performed with a snorting. This invades more suddenly than the Serous Apoplexy. Use large bleedings, from the arm or neck ; bathe the feet in warm water, cupping on the back of the head with deep scarification. The garters should be tied very tight to lessen the motion of the blood from the lower extremities.

A scruple of Nitre may be given in water every three or four hours.

When the patient is so far recovered as to be able to swallow, let him take a strong purge ; but if this cannot be effected, a clyster should be thrown up with plenty of fresh butter, and a large spoonful of common salt in it.

In the Serous Apoplexy, the pulse is not so strong, the countenance is less florid, and not attended with so great a difficulty of breathing. Here bleeding is not so necessary, but a vomit of three grains of Emetic Tartar may be given, and afterwards a purge as before, and the powder of White Hellebore blown up the nose, &c.

This Apoplexy is generally preceded by an unusual heaviness, giddiness, and drowsiness.

8. Canine Appetite. \

40. " If it be without vomiting, is often cured

■\ An insatiable desire of eating.

e

by a small bit of "bread dipt in wine, and applied to the nostrils." — Br Schomberg,

9. The Asthma.-f

41. Take a pint of cold Water every morning, washing the head with water immediately after, and using the Cold Bath once a fortnight.

*42. Or cut an ounce of stick Liquorice into slices. Steep this in a quart of water four-and- twenty hours, and use it, when you are worse than usual, as common drink. I have known this give much ease.

43. Or half a pint of Tar- Water twice a-day.

44. Or live a fortnight on boiled Carrots only. *45. Or take an ounce of Quicksilver every

morning, and a spoonful of Aqua Sulphureta, or fifteen drops of Elixir of Vitriol, in a large glass of spring water, at five in the evening. This has cured an inveterate Asthma. — Quicksilver should be administered only under the superintendanee of a surgeon.

46. Or take from ten to sixty drops of Elixir of Vitriol, in a glass of water, three or four times a-

day.

Elixir of Vitriol is made thus : — Drop gradually four ounces of strong oil of vitriol into a pint of spirits of wine, or brandy ; let it stand three days, and add to it ginger sliced, half an ounce, and Jamaica pepper, whole, one ounce. In three days more -it is fit for use; but if the pa- tient be subject to sour belchings, take the mixture for the asthmatic cough (as Art. 56) after the elixir of vitriol.

47. Or, into a quart of Boiling Water, put a teaspoonful of Balsamic JEiher; receive the steam into the lungs, through a fumigator, twice a-day.

■f An Asthma is a difficulty of breathing from a disorder in the lungs. In the common (or moist) Asthma the pa- tient spits much.

Balsamic Mther is made thus : — Put four ounces of spi- rits of wine, and one ounce of balsam of Tolu, into a phial, with one ounce of sether. Keep it well corked. But it will not keep above a week.

48. For present relief, vomit with a quart or more of Warm Water. The more you drink of it the better.

Do this whenever you find any motion to vomit ; and take care always to keep your body open.

1 0. A Dry or Convulsive Asthma.

49. Juice of Radishes relieves much ; so does a cup of strong Coffee ; or Garlic, either raw or preserved, or in syrup.

50. Or drink a pint of new Milk morning and evening. This has cured an inveterate Asthma.

*ol. Or beat fine Saffron small, and take eight or ten grains every night. Tried.

*52. Take from three to five grains of Ipeca- cuanha every morning, or from five to ten grains every other evening. Do this, if need be, for a month or six weeks. Five grains usually vomit. In a violent fit, take a scruple instantly,

53. In any Asthma, the best drinlc is Apple- Water ; that is, boiling water poured on sliced

apples.

54. The food should be light and easy of diges- tion. Ripe Fruits baked, boiled, or roasted, are very proper ; but strong liquors of all kinds, especially beer or ale, are hurtful. If any supper is taken, it should be very light.

55. All disorders of the breast are much re- lieved by keeping the Feet Warm, and promoting perspiration. Exercise is also of very great im- portance, sg that the patient should take as much every day as his strength will bear. Issues aro found, in general, to be of great service.

28

56. Dr Smyth, in his " Formulae," recom- mends Mustard- Whey as common drink, in the Moist Asthma, and a decoction of the Madder- Boot, to promote spitting.

The Decoction is made thus : — Boil an ounce of mad- der and two drachms of mace in three pints of water, to two pints, then strain it, and take a tea-cupful three or four times a-day. But the most efficacious medicine is the Quicksilver and Aqua Sulphur eta (as Art. 45).

N.B. — Where the latter cannot be got, ten drops of Oil of Vitriol, in a large glass of spring water, will answer the same end. I have known many persons greatly re- lieved, and some cured, by taking as much Jalap every morning as would lie on a sixpence.

11. To cure Baldness.

57. Rub the part, morning and evening, with Onions, till it is red, and rub it afterwards with Honey; or wash it with a decoction of Boxwood, — tried ; or electrify it daily.

12. Bleeding at the Nose (to prevent). *58. Drink Whey largely every morning, and eat much Raisins.

59. Or dissolve two scruples of Nitre in half-a- pint of water, and take a tea-cupful every hour.

60. To cure it, apply to the neck behind, and on each side, a cloth dipt in Cold Water.

61. Or put the legs and arms in Cold Water. *62. Or wash the temples, nose, and neck, with

Vinegar.

63. Or keep a little roll of White Paper under the tongue.

64. Or snuff up Vinegar and Water.

65. Or foment the legs and arms with it.

66. Or steep a Linen Bag in Sharp Vinegar, burn it, and blow it up the nose with a quill.

67- Or apply Tents made of soft Lint, dipped

29

in Cold Water, strongly impregnated with Tinc- ture of Iron, and introduced within the Nostrils quite through to their posterior apertures. This method, Mr Hey says, never failed him.

68. Or dissolve an ounce of Alum powdered, in a pint of Vinegar; apply a cloth, dipt in this, to the temples, steeping the feet in Warm Water.

G9. In a violent case, go into a pond or river. Tried.

13. Bleeding of a Wound.

70. Make two or three tight ligatures toward the lower part of each joint ; slacken them gra- dually.

71. Or apply tops of Nettles bruised.

72. Or strew on it the Ashes of a linen rag, •dipt in sharp Vinegar and burnt.

*73. Or take ripe Puff- Balls, break them warily, and save the powder. Strew this on the wound, and bind it on. (/.) This will stop the bleeding of an amputated limb without any cautery.

74. Or take of Brandy two ounces, Castile Soap two drachms, Potash one drachm. Scrape the soap fine and dissolve it in the brandy ; then add the potash. Mix them well together, and keep them close stopt in a phial. Apply a little of this warmed to a bleeding vessei, and the blood immediately congeals.

14. Spitting Blood. *75. Take a tea-cupful of stewed Prunes, at lying down, for two or three nights. Tried.

*76. Or two spoonfuls of juice of Nettles every morning, and a large cup of decoction of Nettles at night, for a week. Tried,

c3

77. Or three spoonfuls of Sage-juice in a little Honey. This presently stops either spitting or vomiting blood. Tried.

*78. Or half a teaspoonful of Barbadues Tar, on a lump of loaf-sugar, at night. It commonly cures at once.

15. Vomiting Blood.

*79. Take two spoonfuls of Nettle Juice. This also dissolves blood coagulated in the stomach. Tried.

80. Or take as much Saltpetre as will lie upon half-acrown, dissolved in a glass of cold water, two or three times a-day.

16. To dissolve Coagulated Blood.

81. .Bind on the part for some hours a paste made of Black Soap and Crumbs of White Bread.

82. Or grated root of Burdock spread on a rag. Renew this twice a-day.

17. Blisters.

83. On the feet, occasioned by walking, are cured by drawing a needle and Worsted thread through them. Clip the thread off at both ends, and leave it till the skin peels off.

18. Boils,

S4. -4pply a lfttle Venice Turpentine.

85. Or an equal quantity of Soafr and Brown Sugar well mixt.

86. Or a plaster of Honey and Wheat Flour.

87. Or of Figs.

88. Or a little Saffron in a white bread poul- tice.

It is proper to purge also.

31

19. Hard Breasts.

89. Apply Turnips roasted till soft, then mashed and mixed with a little Oil of Roses. Change this twice a day, keeping the breast very warm with flannel.

20. Sore Breasts and Swelled. *90. Boil a handful of Camomile, and as much Mallows in milk and water. Foment with it be- tween two flannels, as hot as can be borne every twelve hours. It also dissolves any knot or swel- ling in any part.

21. A Bruise.

*91. Immediately apply Treacle spread on brown Paper. Tried.

92. Or apply a plaster of chopt Parsley, mixt with butter.

*93. Or Electrify the part. This is the quickest cure of all.

22. To prevent Swelling from a Bruise.

94. Immediately apply a cloth, five or six times doubled, dipt in cold Water, and dipt again when it grows warm. Tried.

23. To cure a Sivelling from a Bruise.

95. Foment it half an hour, morning and evening with cloths dipped in Water as ho$ as you can bear.

24. A Burn or Scald.

96. Immediately pluuge the part into cold Water. Keep it in an hour, if not well before. Perhaps four or five hours. Tried.

*97. Or Electrify it. If this can be done pre- sently, it totally cures the most desperate burn. 98. Or if the part cannot be dipt, apply a eloth

32

four times doubled, dipt in cold Water, changiug it when it grows warm. *99. Or a bruised Onion.

100. Or apply Oil; and strew on it powdered Ginger.

25. A deep Bum or Scald.

101. Apply black Varnish with a feather, till it is well.

102. Or inner rind of Elder well mixt with fresh butter. When this is bound on with a rag, plunge the part into cold water. This will suspend the pain, till the medicine heals.

103. Or mix Lime- Water and Sweet Oil, to the thickness of cream, apply it with a feather several times a day. — This is the most effectual applica- tion I ever met with.

101. Or put twenty-five drops of Goullard's Extract of Lead, to half a pint of Bain Water; dip linen rags in it, and apply them to the part affected. This is particularly serviceable, if the burn is near the eyes.

26. A Cancer in the Breast^

*105. Of thirteen years standing, was cured by frequently applying Red Poppy Water, Plantane, and Bose- Water, mixt with Honey of Boses. Af- terwards, the waters used alone perfected the cure.

106. Use the Cold Bath. This has cured many. This cured Mrs Bates of Leicestershire of a can- cer in her breast, a consumption, a sciatica, and

•f A Cancer is a hard, round, uneven, painful swelling, of a blackish or leaden eoloui-, the veins round which seem ready to burst. It comes commonly with a swelling about as big as a pea, which does not at first give much pain, nor change the colour of the skin.

33

rheumatism, which she had had near twenty years. She bathed daily for a month, and drank only water.

A bleeding cancer was cured by drinking twice a-day a quarter of a pint of the juice of Clivers or Goose Grass, and covering the wounds with the bruised leaves.

Another bleeding cancer was cured by the fol- lowing receipt : —

Take half-a pint of Small Beer. When it boils, dissolve in it an ounce and a-half of Bees- Wax. Then put in an ounce of Hog's-Lard, and boil them together. When it is cold pour the Beer from it, and apply it, spread upon white leather. Renew it every other day. It brings out great blotches, which are to be washed with Sal Pru- nellce, dissolved in warm water.

Monsieur Le Febun advises, " Dissolve four grains of Arsenic in a pint of water. Take a spoonful of this, with a spoonful of Milk, and half an ounce of Syrup of Poppies, every morning."

Generally where cold bathing is necessary to cure any disease, water-drinking is so, to prevent a relapse.

107. If it be not broke, apply a piece of Sheet- Lead, beaten very thin, and pricked full of pin- holes, for days or weeks, to the whole breast. Purges should be added every third or fourth day.

108. Or rub the whole breast, morning and evening, with Spirits of Hartshorn, mixt with Oil.

109. Or keep it continually moist with Honey. *110. Or take Horse-spurs^ and dry them by

the fire, till they will beat to powder. Sift and

-f- These are a kind of warts that grow on the inside of the horse's fore-legs.

34

infuse two drachms in two quarts of ale ; drink half a pint every six hours, new milk warm. It has cured many. Tried.

111. Or apply Goose Dung and Celandine beat well together, and spread on a fine rag. It will both cleanse and heal the sore.

112. Or a poultice of Wild Parsnips, flowers, leaves, and stalks, changing it morning and even- ing ; or scraped Carrots.

113. Or take Brimstone and Aqua Sulphureta. (See No. 45.) This has cured one far advanced in years. Dr Cheyne says, " A total ass-milk diet, about two quarts a-clay, without any other food or drink, will cure a confirmed cancer.

27. A Cancer in any other part.

114. Apply Bed Onions bruised.

115. Or make a plaster of Boch-Alum, Vine- gar, and Honey, equal quantities, with Wheat- Flour. Change it every twelve hours. It often cures in three or four days.

116. Or stamp the flowers, leaves, and stalks of wild Parsnips, and apply them as a plaster, changing it every twelve hours. It usually cures in a few days.

A Cancer under the Byewas cured by drinking a quart of Tar- Water ■ daily, washing the same with it, and then applying a plaster of tar and mutton-suet melted together. It was well in two months, though of twenty years' standing.

28. A Cancer in the Mouth.

117. Boil a few leaves of Succory, Plantane, and

Rue, with a spoonful of Honey, for a quarter of

an hour. Gargle with this often in an hour. (J.)

35

118. Or with Vinegar and Honey, wherein half an ounce of Rock-Alum is boiled.

119. Or mix as much burnt Alum, and as much Black Pepper as lies on a sixpence, with an ounce of Honey, and frequently touch the part,

120. Or blow the Ashes of Scarlet Cloth into the mouth or throat. It seldom fails,

29. Chilblains, (to pr 'event.) *121. Wear Flannel Socks ; or Socks of Chamois Leather.

30. Chilblains, (to cure. J 122. Apply Salt and Onions pounded together. *123. Or a poultice of roasted Onions hot, Keep it on two or three days, if not cured sooner.

124. Wash them (if broke) with Tincture of Myrrh in a little water.

31. Children.

125. To prevent the rickets, tenderness, and weakness, dip them in cold water every morning, at least till they are eight or nine months old.

No roller should ever be put round their bodies, nor any stays used. Instead of them, when they are put into short petticoats, put a waistcoat under their frocks.

Let them go bare-footed and bare-headed, till they are three or four years old at least. (?)

It is best to wean a child when seven months old. It should lie in the cradle at least a year.

No child should touch any spiritous or fer- mented liquor, nor animal food, before two years old.

Their drink should be water ; tea they should never taste, till ten or twelve years old. Milk.

36

milk-porridge, and water-gruel, are the proper breakfasts for children.

32. Chin-Cough or Hooping-Coiigh.

126. Use the Cold Bath daily.

127. Or rub the feet thoroughly with Hogs- Lard, before the fire at going to bed, and keep the child warm therein. Tried.

128. Or rub the back at lying down with old Bum. It seldom fails.

129. Or give a spoonful of Juice of Pennyroyal, mixt with brown Sugar-candy, twice a day.

130. Or half a pint of Milk, warm from the cow, with the quantity of a nutmeg of Conserve of Roses dissolved in it, every morning.

*131. Or dissolve a scruple of Salt of Tartar in a quarter of a pint of clear water ; add to it ten grains of finely powdered Cochineal, and sweeten it with loaf sugar.

Give a child within the year, the fourth of a spoonful of this, four times a day, with a spoonful of Barley Water after it. Give a child two years old, half a spoonful ; a child above four years old, a spoonful. Boiled apples put into warm milk, may be his chief food. This relieves in twenty- four hours, and cures in five or six day.

132. Or from three to five grains of Gum Gam- boge. It vomits and purges ; and Dr Cook says, always cures.

133. Or take two grains of Tartar Emetic, and half a drachm of prepared Crabs Claws powdered; let them be mixed very well together.

One grain, one grain and a half, or two grains of this composition, may be added to five or six grains of magnesia, and given in a small spoon-

37

ful of milk and water in the forenoon between breakfast and dinner, to a child a year old.

At night, if the fever is very high, half the former dose of this Powder may be given, with from five to ten grains of Nitre.

134. In desperate cases, change of air alone has cured.

33. Cholera Morbus : i.e. Flux and Vomiting.

135. Drink two or three quarts of cold Water, if strong ; of warm Water, if weak.

136. Or boil a chicken an hour in two gallons of Water, and drink of this till the Vomiting ceases.

137. Or, decoction of Mice, or Barley, or toasted Oaten-Bread.

If the pain is very severe, cover the belly with flannels dipt in Spirits and Water.

The third day after the cure, take ten or fifteen grains of Rhubarb.

34. Chops in Women'' s Nipples.

138. Apply Balsam of sugar.

139. Or, apply Butter of Wax, which speedily heals them.

35. Chopt Hands (to prevent.)

140. Wash them with Flour of Mustard.

141. Or, in Bran and Water boiled together.

(To Cure.) *142. Wash with soft soap, mixed with red sand: Tried.

143. Or, wash them in sugar and water. Tried.

36. Choped Lips.

144. Apply a little Sal Prunella?.

38 37. A Cold.

*145. Drink a pint of cold water lying down in bed : Tried.

146. Or, a spoonful of Treacle in half a pint of water : Tried.

147. Or, to one spoonful of Oatmeal, and one spoonful of Boney, add a piece of Butter, the big- ness of a nutmeg : pour on gradually near a pint of boiling water: drink this lying down in bed.

38. Cold in the Head.

148. Pare very thin the yellow rind of an Orange, roll it up inside out, and thrust a roll into each nostril.

39. The Cholic (in the Jit.)

*149. Drink a pint of cold water. Tried.

150. Or, a quart of warm water. Tried.

151. Or, of Camomile Tea.

152. Or, take from thirty to forty grains of yellow Peel of Oranges, dried and powdered, in a glass of water.

153. Or, take from thirty to forty drops of Oil of Aniseed on a lump of sugar.

154. Or, apply outwardly a bag of hot Oats.

155. Or, steep the legs in hot water a quarter of an hour.

156. Or, take as much Daffy's Elixir as will presently purge. This relieves the most violent cholic in an hour or two.

40. The Dry Cholic, (to prevent.)

157. Drink Ginger Tea.

41. Cholic in Children.

158. Give a scruple of powdered Aniseed in their meat. Tried.

39

150. Or, small doses of Maghesia.

160. Or put one grain of Emetic Tartar into six table-spoonfuls of Water ; a small tea-spoonful will puke a child of a week old ; a large tea- spoonful is sufficient for one a month old ; and so in proportion. — Repeat the puke every day, or every other day, as the case requires.

This is, perhaps, the best Medicine vet discovered for Infants. It speedily cures inward fits, gripes, looseness, thrush, and convulsions in children. But if the child is costive, his bowels must be opened first with a little mag- nesia, or manna, before you give the puke.

42. Bilious Cholic.-f

161. Drink warm Lemonade. I know nothing like it.

162. Or, give a spoonful of siceet-oil every hour. — This has cured one judged to be at the point of death.

43. A Habitual Cholic.

163. Wear a thin, soft Flannel on the part.

44. A Hysteric Cholic.^

164. Mrs Watts, by using the Cold Bath two- and-twenty times in a month, was entirely cured of hysteric cholic, fits, and convulsive motions, continual sweatings and vomiting, wandering pains in her limbs and head, with total loss of appetite.

165. In the fit, drink half a pint of water with a little wheat-flour in it, and a spoonful of vinegar.

-f This is generally attended with vomiting a greenish or frothy matter, with feverish heat, violent thirst, a bitter taste in the mouth, and little and high-coloured urine,

£ Is attended with a violent pain about the pit of the stomach, with great sinking of the spirits, and often with greenish vomiting.

40

166. Or, of warm Lemonade. Tried.

167. Or, take 20, 30, or 40 drops of Balsam of Peru, on fine sugar. If need be, take this twice or thrice a day.

168. Or, in extremity, boil three ounces of Burdock- Seed in water, which give as a clyster.

169. Or, twenty drops of Laudanum, in any proper clyster, which gives instant ease.

45. Nervous Cholic.f

170. Use the Cold bath daily for three or four weeks.

171. Or, take Quicksilver and Aqua Sulphurata daily for a month.

46. Cholic from the Fumes of Lead, or JVhite Lead, Verdigrise, $c.

172. In the fit, drink fresh melted Butter, and then vomit with warm water.

173. To prevent or cure. Breakfast daily on fat Broth, and use Oil of sweet almonds frequently and largely.

174. Smelters of Metals, Plumbers, &c. may be in a good measure preserved from the poisonous fumes that surround them, by breathing through cloth or flannel mufflers, twice or thrice doubled, dipt in a solution of sea-salt, or salt of tartar, and then dried. These mufflers might also be of great use in many similar cases.

47. Windy Cholic.

175. Parched Peas eaten freely, have had the most happy effect, when all other means have failed.

•f- This some term the Dry Belly ache. It often contin- ues several days, with little urine, and obstinate costi veness. A Cholic with purging, some term the Watery Grip es.

41

48. To prevent the ill Effects of Cold.

176. The momont a person gets into a house, with his hands or feet quite chilled, let him put them into a vessel of water, as cold as can be got, and hold them there till they begin to glow. This they will do in a minute or two. This method likewise effectually prevents chilblains.

49. Consumption.

177. Cold- Bathing has cured many deep con- sumptions. Tried.

178. One in a deep consumption was advised to drink nothing but water, and eat nothing but water-gruel, without salt or sugar. In three months time he was perfectly well.

179. Take no food but new butter-milk, churned in a bottle, and white bread. — I have known this successful.

180. Or, use as common drink, spring wester, and new milk, each a quart ; and sugar-candy two ounces.

181. Or, boil two handfuls of Sorrel m a pint of whey. Strain it, and drink a glass thrice a day. Tried.

182. Or, turn a pint of skimmed milk, with half a pint of small beer. Boil in this whey about twenty Ivy Leaves, and two or three sprigs of Hyssop, Drink half over night, the rest in the morning. Do this, if needful, for two months daily. — This has cured in a desperate case. Tried.

183. Or, take a Cow-heel from the tripe-house ready drest, two quarts of new Milk, two ounces of Hartshorn Shavings, two ounces of Isinglass, a quarter of a pound of Sugar- Candy, and a race of Ginger. Put all these in a pot. ; and set them

d3

42

in an oven after the bread is drawn. Let it con- tinue there till the oven is near cold ; and let the patient live on this. — I have known this cure a deep consumption more than once.

184. Or, every morning cut up a little turf of fresh earth, and lying down, breathe into the hole for a quarter of an hour. — I have known a deep consumption cured thus.

185. " Mr Masters, of Evesham, was so far gone in a consumption, that he could not stand alone. I advised him to lose six ounces of blood every day for a fortnight, if he lived so long ; and then every other day ; then every third day ; then every fifth day, for the same time. In three months he was well." — (Dr Dover.) Tried.

186. Or, throw Frankincense on burning coals, and receive the smoke daily through a proper tube, into the lungs. Tried.

187. Or, take in for a quarter of an hour, morning and evening, the steam of white rosin and bees-wax, boiling on a hot fire-shovel. This has cured one who was in the third stage of a consumption.

188. Or, the steam of sweet spirit of vitriol dropt into warm water.

189. Or take morning and evening, a tea-spoon- ful of White Rosin powdered and mixt with Honey. This cured one in less than a month, who was very near death.

190. Or drink thrice a-day, two spoonfuls of Juice of Water Cresses. This has cured a deep consumption.

191. In the last stage, suck a healthy woman daily. This cured my father.

For diet, use Milk and Apples, or Water-gruel

43

made with fine flour. Drink Cyder-whcy, Barley- water, sharpened with Lemon-juice or Apple-water. So long as the tickling cough continues, chew well, and swallow a mouthful or two of a biscuit, or crust of bread, twice a-day. If you cannot swallow it, spit it out. This will always shorten the fit, and would often prevent a consumption.

50. Convulsions.

192. Use the Cold Bath.

193. Or take a tea-spoonful of Valerian Moot powdered, in a cup of water every evening.

194. Or half a drachm of Mistletoe powdered, every six hours, drinking after it a draught of strong infusion thereof.

51. Convulsions in Children.

195. Scrape Piony Boots fresh digged.. Apply what you have scraped off, to the soles of the feet. It helps immediately. Tried.

52. Convulsions in the Bowels of Children.

196. Give a child a quarter old, a spoonful of the Juice of Pellitory of the Wall, two or three times a-day. It goes through at once, but purges no more. Use the syrup, if the juice cannot be had.

53. Corns, (to prevent.)

197. Frequently wash the feet in cold water.

54. Corns, (to cure.)

198. Apply fresh every morning, the yeast of small beer, spread on a rag.

199. Or after paring them close, apply bruised Ivy Leaves daily, and in fifteen days they will drop out. Tried.

200. Or apply Chalk powdered and mixt with water. This also cures warts.

44

201 . Some corns arc cured by a Pitch Plaster. r 202. All are greatly eased by steeping the feet in hot water wherein Oatmeal is boiled. This also helps dry and hot feet.

55. Costiveness.

203. Rise early every morning.

204. Or boil in a pint and a-half of broth, half a handful of Mallow Leaves chopt ; strain this and drink it, before you eat any thing else. Do this frequently, if needful.

205. Or breakfast twice a-week, or oftener, on Water-gruel with Currants. Tried.

206. Or take the bigness of a large nutmeg of Cream of Tartar mixt with Honey, as often as you need.

207. Or take daily two hours before dinner, a small tea-cupful of Stewed Prunes.

208. Or use for common drink, Water, or Treacle Beer, impregnated with Fixed Air.

209. Or live upon Bread, made of Wheat Flour, with all the Bran in it.

210. Or boil an ounce and a-half of Tamarinds, in three pints of water to a quart. In this strained, when cold, infuse all night two drams of Senna, and one drachm of Bed Rose Leaves. Drink a cup every morning.

56. Cough.

211. Every cough is a dry cough at first. As long as it continues so, it may be cured by chew- ing immediately after you cough, the quantity of a pepper-corn of Peruvian Bark. Swallow your spittle as long as it is bitter, and then spit out the wood. If you cough again, do this again. It very seldom fails to cure any dry cough. I ear-

45

nestly desire every one who lias any regard for his health, to try this within twenty-four hours after he first perceives a cough.

212. Or drink a pint of cold water, lying down in bed. Tried.

213. Or make a hole through a Lemon, and fill it with Honey. Roast it, and catch the juice. Take a tea-spoonful of this frequently. Tried.

57. Asthmatic Cough.

214. Take Spanish Liquorice two ounces, Salt of Tartar half an ounce, boil the Liquorice in three pints of water to a quart. Add the Salt to it when it is blood-warm. Drink two spoon- fuls of this every two hours. It seldom fails. Tried. I have known this cure an inveterate moist Asthma.

58. Consumptive Cough,

215. To stop it for a time, at lying down, keep a little Stick Liquorice shaved like horse-raddish, between the cheek and the gums. I believe this never fails.

59. Convulsive Cough.

216. Eat preserved Walnuts.

60. Inveterate Cough.

217. Wash the head in coldwater evcrymorning,

218. Or use the Cold Bath. It seldom fails.

219. Or peel and slice a large Turnip, spread coarse Sugar between the slices, and let it stand in a dish, till all the juice drains down. Take a spoonful of this whenever you cough.

220. Or take a spoonful of Syrup of Horehound, morning and evening. Tried.

221. Or take from ten to twenty drops of Elixir of Vitriol, in a glass of water twice or thrice a-day.

46

This is useful when the eough is attended with costiveness, or relaxation of the stomach and lungs.

61. Pleuritic Cough.

222. Powder an ounce of Spermaceti fine. Work it in a marble mortar with the yolk of a new-laid egg. Mix them in a pint of white wine, and take a small glass every three hours.

62. Tickling Cough.

223. Drink water whitened with Oatmeal four times a-day.

224. Or keep a piece of Barley Sugar, or Sugar Candy, constantly in the mouth.

63. Violent Coughing from a sharp and thin Rheum.

225. Work into old Conserve of Roses, as much as you can of pure Frankincense powdered as fine as possible. Take a bolus of this twice or thrice a-day. It eases presently, and cures in two or three weeks.

226. Or take half a grain of the inspissated milky Juice of Soiuthistle, once or twice a-day. It has the anodyne and antispasmodic properties of opium, without its narcotic effects. Or it may be made into Laudanum, in the same manner as opium is, and five or six drops taken on a lump of sugar thrice a-day.

The milky juice of all the sowthistles, dande- lions, and lettuces, have nearly the same virtues.

227. Or use milk diet as much as possible. 64. The Cramp, { to prevent.)

228. Tie your garter smooth and tight under your knee at going to bed. It seldom fails.

229. Or take half-a pint of Tar icater, morning and evening.

47

230. Or to be Electrified through the part which uses to be affected. This generally prevents it for a month, sometimes for a twelvemonth.

231. Or to one ounce and a-half of Spirits of Turpentine, add Flour of Brimstone and Sulphur vivum, of each half an ounce ; smell to it at night, three or four times.

232. Or lay a roll of Brimstone under your pillow.

65. The Cramp, (to aire.)

233. Strongly put out your heel.

234. Or chafe the part with Hungary- Water.

235. Or hold a roll of Brimstone in your hand. I have frequently done this with success.

66. A Cut.

236. Keep it closed with your thumb a quarter of an hour. Then double a rag five or six times, dip it in cold water, and bind it on. Tried.

237. Or bind on toasted cheese. This will cure a deep cut.

238. Or pounded Grass. Shake it off after twelve hours, and if need be, apply fresh.

67. Deafness.

239. Be electrified through the ear. Tried.

240. Or use the Cold Bath.

241. Or put a little Salt into the ear.

242. Or drop into it a tea-spoonful of salt water.

243. Or three or four drops of Onion Juice, at lying down, and stop it with a little wool.

68. Deafness from Wax.

244. Syringe the ear with warm ivater. Tried.

69. Deafness ivlth a Dry Ear.

245. Mix Brandy and Siveet Oil ; dip black wool in this, and put it into the ear. When it

48

grows dry, wash it well in brandy ; dip it, and put it in again.

70. Deafness with a Headache and Buzzing in the Head.

246. Peel a clove of Garlic, dip it in Honey, and put it into your ear at night with a little black wool. Lie with that ear uppermost. Do this, if need be, eight or ten nights. Tried.

71. Settled Deafness.

247. Take a red Onion, pick'out the core, fill up the place with Oil of Roasted Almonds. Let it stand a night, then bruise and strain it. Drop three or four drops into the ear, morning and evening, and stop it with black wool.

72. Delivery.

248. After delivery in child-birth, the mother's milk is the only proper purge for the child. Let it begin to suck ten or twelve hours after the birth.

73. Diabetes.f

249. Drink wine boiled with ginger, as much and as often as your strength will bear. Let your drink be milk and water. AH milk meats are good.

250. Or, drink three or four times a day a quarter of a pint of Alum posset, putting three drachms of Alum to four pints of Milk. It sel- dom fails to cure in eight or ten days.

251. Or, infuse half an ounce of Cantharides in a pint of Elixir of Vitriol. Give from fifteen to thirty drops in Bristol icater, twice or thrice a day.

•f- A Diabetes is a frequent and large discharge of pale and sweetish urine, attended with a constant thirst, and a wasting of the whole body.

49 74. The Dropsy.]

252. Use the Gold- Bath daily, after purging'.

253. Or, rub the swelled parts with Salad Oil by a warm hand, at least an hour a day. This has done wonders in some cases.

254. Or, cover the whole belly with a large new sponge dipt in strong lime-water, and then squeezed out. This bound on often cures, even without any sensible evacuation of water.

255. Or, apply green Dock-Leases to the joints and soles of the feet, changing them once a day.

256. Or, mix half an ounce of Amber with a quart of Wine Vinegar. Heat a brick (only not red hot), and put it into a tub. Pour them upon it, and hold the part swelled over the smoke, covering the tub close, to keep in the smoke. The water will come out incredibly, and the pa- tient be cured. Tried.

257. Or, eat a Crust of Bread every morning fasting. Tried.

258. Or, take as much as lies on a sixpence of powdered Laurel- Leaves, every second or third day. It works both ways. Tried.

259. Or, mix a pound of the coarsest Sugar with a pint of Juice of Pellitory of the Wall, bruised in a marble mortar. Boil it as long as any scum rises. When cool, bottle and cork it. If very bad, take three spoonfuls at night, and two in the morning. It seldom fails. Tried.

260. Or, make Tea of Boots of Diuarf Elder. It works by urine. Every twelve or fourteen

■f A. Dropsy is a preternatural collection of water in the head, breast, belly, or all over the body. It is attended with a continual thirst. The part swelled pits if you press it with your fingers. The urine is pale and little.

E

50

minutes (that is, after every discharge), drink a tea-cupful. — I have known a dropsy cured by this in twelve hours time.

261. One was cured by taking a drachm of Nitre every morning in a little Ale.

262. Tar-water drank twice a day has cured many. So has an infusion of Juniper Berries roasted, and made into a liquor like coffee.

263. Or, three spoonfuls of the Juice of Leeks, or Elder Leaves. Tried. — This cures the windy dropsy.

2%L Or, half a pint of decoction of Butcher's Broom, (intermixing purges twice or thrice aweek.) The proper purge is ten grains of Jalap, with six of powdered Ginger. It may be increased or less- ened according to the strength of the patient.

265. Or, of the decoction of the Tops of Oak- boughs. This cured an inveterate dropsy in fifteen days.

2QQ. Or, take Senna, Cream of Tartar, and Jalap, half an ounce of each. Mix them, and take a drachm every morning in broth. It usually cures in twenty days. This is nearly the same with Dr Ward's Powder ; I suppose he took it from hence. He says it seldom fails, either in the watery or windy dropsy.

267. Or, be Electrified. This cures dropsies supposed incurable.

268. How amazingly little is yet known, even of the human body! Have not dropsical persons been continually advised to abstain from drink as much as possible? But how can we reconcile this with the following undeniable facts, published in the late medical translations ?

Jane Roberts, aged twenty, was at length constrained to take her bed by a confirmed ascites and anasarca. In this desperate case, she drank as much as she would, first of

51

small beer, and when that failed, of thin milk. After a while her skin cracked in many places; and she continued drinking and leaking till she was quite well.

A middle-aged man in the west of England drank every day five or six quarts of cyder; and without any other me- dicine, was totally cured in a few weeks time of a dropsy long supposed to be incurable.

A farmer aged seventy, in a continued ascites, was given over for dying. Being desperate, he drank three quarts of cold water every four and twenty hours. His whole food mean time was sea-biscuit, sometimes with a little butter. For sixteen days he seemed worse. Then he discharged for near a week a vast quantity of water, and was soon free from his disease, which never returned.

75. Drowned.

269. Rub the trunk of the body all over with Salt. It frequently recovers them that seem dead.

76. The Ear-ache.

270. Rub the ear hard for a quarter of an hour. Tried.

271. Or, be Electrified.

272. Or, put in a roasted Fig, or Onion, as hot as may be. Tried.

273. Or, blow the smoke of Tobacco strongly into it.

274. But if the ear-ache is caused by an inflam- mation of the uvula, it is cured in two or three hours, by receiving into the mouth the steam of bruised Hemp-seed, boiled in water.

77. Ear-ache from Cold.

275. Boil Rue, or Rosemary, or Garlic, and let the steam go into the ear through a funnel.

78. Ear-ache from Heat.

276. Apply cloths four times doubled and dipt in Cold Water (changing them when warm), for half an hour.

52

79. Ear-ache from Worms.

277. Drop in Warm Milk, and it brings tlicm out.

278. Or, Juice of Wormwood, which kills them.

80. Noise in the Ears.

279. Drop in Juice of Onions.

81. Hard Wax in the Ear.

280. Is best dissolved by Warm Water.

82. Eyes Bleared.

281. Drop into them the Juice of Crab- Apples.

83. Bloodshot Eye.

282. Apply linen rags dipt in Cold Water, for two or three hours.

283. Or, blow in white Sugar-candy, finely powdered.

284. Or, apply boiled Eyssop as a poultice. This has a wonderful efficacy.

84. Bruise in the Eye.

285. Apply as a plaster, Conserve of Roses.

85. Clouds Flying before the Eye.

286. Take a drachm of powdered Betony every morning.

287. Or, be Electrified.

86. Blindness.

288. Is often cured by cold bathing.

289. Or, by Electrifying. Tried. This has cured a Suffusion of sixteen years standing, and a Gutta Serena of twenty-four.

87. Bull Sight.

290. Drop in two or three drops of Juice of Rotten Apples often.

53

88. Films.

291. Dry Zibethum Occidentale, i. e. stercus humanum, slowly ; powder it fine, and blow it into the eye twice or thrice a day.

292. Or, mix Juice of Ground Ivy with a little Honey, and two or three grains of bay-salt. Drop it in, morning and evening.

293. Or, touch them cautiously every day with the Lunar Caustic.

89. Hot or Sharp Humours.

294. Apply a few drops of double-refined Sugar melted in brandy. Tried.

295. Or, boil a handful of bramble leaves with a little Alum in a quart of spring water, to a pint. Drop this frequently into the eye. This likewise speedily cures cankers, or any sores.

296. Or, lay a thin slice of raw beef on the nape of the neck. Tried.

90. Eyes or Eye-Lids Inflamed.

297. Apply, as a poultice, boiled, roasted, or rotten Apples, warm.

298. Or, Wormwood Tops, with the Yolk of an Egg. This will hardly fail.

299. Or, beat up the White of an Egg with two spoonfuls of White Rose Water, into a white froth. Apply this on a fine rag, changing it so that it may not grow dry till the eye or eye-lid is well. Tried.

300. Or, dissolve an ounce of fine Gum Arabic in two or three spoonfuls of spring vjater ; put a drop into the inner corner of the eye, from the point of a hair-pencil, four or five times a day. At the same time take as much saltpetre as will lie upon a sixpence, dissolved in a glass of water, three or four times a day ; abstaining from all

e 3

54

strong liquids as much as possible, till cured White bread poultices applied to the eyes in an inflamed state, frequently occasion total blindness.

After the inflammation is subsided, if weakness still remains, dip a finger in the white Copperas eye-water, and rub round the eye, three or four times a day.

N.B. — All acrid eye-waters and powders, put into the eyes when they are inflamed, horribly increase both the pain and inflammation.

91. Lachrymal Fistula.\

301. Apply a poultice of fine Leaves of Rue.

302. Or, wash the eye morning and evening with a Decoction of Quince Leaves.

92. Pearl in the Eye.

303. Apply a drop of Juice of Celandine with a feather thrice a day.

304. Or, of Three-leaved Grass. It commonly cures in seven days.

305. Or, dissolve a little Sal-ammoniac in Hose- water ; keep this three days in a copper vessel. Drop it twice a day into the eye.

306. Or, reduce separately to the finest powder possible, an equal weight of Loaf-sugar, Cream of Tartar, and Armenian Bole ; mix them to- gether, and put a little into the eye (without blowing it in,) three or four times a day.

93. Sore Eyes.

307. Drink Eyebright Tea, and wash the eyes with it.

•f* This disorder in the inner corner of the eye causes the tears to flow involuntarily. When it is confirmed, only a surgeon can cure it.

m

94. White Specks in the Eye. *308. Going to bed, put a little Ear-wax on the speck. This has cured many.

95. Excellent Eye-Water.

309. Put half an ounce of Lapis Calaminaris powdered, into half a pint of French white wine, and as much white rose-water; drop a drop or two into the corner of the eye. It cures soreness, weakness, and most diseases of the eye. I have known it cure total blindness.

96. Another.

310. Boil very lightly one spoonful of white copperas scraped, and three spoonfuls of white salt in three pints of spring ivater. When cold, bottle it in large phials, without straining. Take up the phial softly, and put a drop or two in the eye morning and evening.

It answers the intention of almost all the preceding me- dicines; it takes away redness, or any soreness whatever; it cures pearls, rheums, and often blindness itself. But it makes the eye smart.

97. Another.

311. Stamp and strain Groand-lvy, Celandine, and Daisies, an equal quantity ; add a little Rose- water and Loaf-sugar. Drop a drop or two at a time into the eye, and it takes away all manner of inflammation, smarting, itching, spots, webs, or any other disorder whatsoever ; yea, though the sight were almost gone.

98. Another,

(which was used by Sir Stephen Fox, when he was 60 years of age, and could hardly see with the help of spectacles; but hereby in some time he recovered his sight, and could read the smallest print without spectacles till above eighty )

312. Take six ounces of rectified spirits of

56

wine, dissolve in it one drachm of camphor ; then add two small handfuls of dried Elder Flowers. In twenty-four hours after it is infused, it is ready for use. Take out a little in a teaspoon ; dip your finger in it, and bathe your forehead, over your eyes, and each temple, with it, several times, morning and night, and twice more in the day, constantly. Meantime, dip a soft rag in dead small-beer, new-milk-warm, and daub each eye a dozen times gently, morning and evening.

If it is a watery humour, you may with your finger wet the eyelids two or three times a-piece ; but be sure to shut your eyes, or it makes them smart and burn excessively. If you have the toothache, or swelled face, rub it well on the part, and it will take away the pain. It will cure any bruise also, if used immediately. Tried.

It will cure any inflammation in the eyes.

99. Weak Eyes.

313. Wash the head daily with cold water. Tried.

100. Fainting, on letting blood,

314. Is prevented by taking before it some good broth.

315. Or, by lying on the bed during the ope- ration.

101. The Falling Sickness.f

316. Be Electrified. Tried.

317. Or, use the cold-bath for a month, daily.

318. Or, take a tea-spoonful of Piony-Boot dried and grated fine, morning and evening, for three months.

319. Or, half a spoonful of Valerian- Boot, powdered. It often cures in twice taking.

•f In the falling sickness, the patient falls to the ground, either quite stiff, or convulsed all over, utterly senseless, gnashing his teeth, and foaming at the mouth.

57

320. Or, half a pint of Tar-vmter, morning and evening, for three months.

321. Or, a glass of Juice of Pellitory of the Wall every morning. Tried.

322. Or, take five or six drops of Laudanum fasting, for six or seven mornings. This has cured many.

323. Or, use an entire Milk Diet for three months. It seldom fails.

324. In the fit, blow up the nose a little pow- dered Ginger.

325. Or, Leaves of Asarabacca powdered. This is the famous Major's Snuff.

*326. One who is subject to the falling sickness, may prevent a fit if he feels it coming, by this simple experiment. Let him always carry with him a piece of metal as broad as he is able to hold between his teeth, when his jaws are stretched to the utmost. When he feels the fit approaching, let him immediately put this between his teeth, so as to keep his jaws at their utmost stretch. In about a minute this will bring him quite to him- self, and prevent the fit for that time.

If one put this metal between the teeth of one that is in the fit, and force them open till his jaws are at the utmost stretch, the fit will immediately go off, and the patient very soon recover.

102. The Falling of the Fundament.

327. Apply a cloth covered thick with brick- dust.

328. Or boil a handful of Bed Rose-Leaves in a quarter of a pint of Red-icine; dip a cloth in it, and apply it as hot as can be borne. Do this till all is used.

58 103. Falling down of the Womb,

329. Maybe cured in the manner last mentioned.

330. Or wear a pessory of cork, and take once or twice a day a tea-cupful of the Decoction of the Bark, with ten drops of Elixir of Vitriol.

104. Extreme Fat

331. Use a total Vegetable Diet. I know one who was entirely cured of this, by living a year thus : — she breakfasted and supped on milk and water (with bread,) and dined on turnips, carrots, or other roots, drinking water.

105. Fever. In the beginning of any fever, if the stomach is uneasy, vomit : if the bowels, purge : if the pulse be hard, full, or strong, bleed.

332. Drink a pint or two of cold water, lying down in bed. I never knew it do hurt.

333. Or a large glass of Tar-water warm, every hour.

334. Or thin water-gruel sweetened with "honey, with one or two drachms of Nitre in each quart.

335. The best of all jalaps in a fever is this:— « toast a large thin slice of bread, without burning ; put it hot into a pint of cold water ; then set it on the fire till it is pretty hot. In a dry heat, it may be given cold ; in, a moist heat, warm ; the more largely the better. Tried.

336. Or for a change, use Pippin or Wood-sorrel Tea ; or Pippin whey ; or Wood-sorrel whey.

337. To prevent catching any infectious fever, do not breathe near the face of the sick person, neither swallow your spittal while in the room. Infection seizes the stomach first.

338. Or stamp a handful of leaves of Wood-

59

bine, put fair water to it, and use it cold as a clyster. It often cures in an hour.

339. Or smear the wrists, five or six inches long with warm treacle, and cover it with brown paper,

340. Or apply treacle plasters to the head and the soles of the feet, changing them every twelve hours.

341. Or use Dr Boerhaave's Fever Powder, viz.: — eight ounces of Nitre, a quarter of an ounce of Camphire, half a-quarter of an ounce of Saffron, and eight grains of Cochineal. These are to be powdered, mixt together, and kept dry in a bottle. Ten grains taken on going to bed abate feverish heat, and procure rest. Ten grains are to be taken every three or four hours for a continued fever.

106. High Fever.

342. Attended with a delirium and a vigilia, has been cured by plunging into cold water-, which is a safe and sure remedy in the beginning of any fever.

343. Such a delirium is often cured by apply- ing to the top of the head, a Treacle Plaster. Tried.

107. Intermitting Fever.

344. Drink warm Lemonade in the beginning of every fit ; it cures in a few days. Tried.

345. Or take a tea-spoonful of Oil of Sulphur in a cup of Balm- Tea, once or twice a day.

108. Fever with Pains in the Limbs.

346. Take twenty drops of Spirit of Hartshorn in a cup of water twice or thrice in twenty-four hours.

347. Or drink largely of Cinquefoil Tea.

109. Rash Fever.

348. Drink every hour a spoonful of Juice of

60

Ground Ivy. It often cures in twenty-four hours. Use the decoction when you have not the juice.

110. Slow Fever.

3-19. Use the Cold Bath for two or three weeks, daily.

111. Worm Fever.

350. Boil a handful of Rue and Wormwood in water ; foment the belly with the decoction, and apply the boiled herbs as a poultice ; repeat the application night and morning. This frequently brings away worms from children, who will take no internal medicine ; and is likewise serviceable if the fever be of the putrid kind.

112. Fistula.

351. Wash Mussel-shells clean ; burn them to powder ; sift them line ; mix them with hogs- lard ; spread it on clean wash leather, and apply it. This cured one that was thought to be at the point of death. N.B. — This cures the piles.

352. Or grind an ounce of Mercury Sublimate in a glass mortar, with a glass pestle, as fine as possible. Put it into a glass bottle, and pour on it two quarts of pure spring water. Cork it close, and for six days shake it well every hour. Then let it settle for twenty-four hours. Pour it off clear ; filter it in a glass funnel ; and keep it for use close stopt. Put half a spoonful of this water in a phial, and add two spoonfuls of pure spring water; shake them well together, and drink it fasting. It works both by vomit and by stool, but very safely. Keep yourself very warm, and walk as much as you can. The first time, neither eat nor drink till two hours after it has done working. Take this every other day. In forty days this

61

will also cure any Cancer, any old Sore, or Kiug's- Evii, broke or unbroken. After the first or second vomit, you may use water-gruel, as in other vomits. Very weak persons should not use this. But I have known it used safely and successfully.

353. Or have a vessel so contrived, that you may sit with the part in cold water, a quarter of an hour every morning. I have known a gentle- man of seventy cured hereby.

354. Or put a large stone of unslacked Lime, into four quarts of water, let it stand one night ; take four ounces of Boclie-Alum, and four ounces of white Copperas, calcine them to dryness, then powder them as fine as possible ; take three pints of the above water, and put the powder into it, and boil it for half an hour, then let it cool, and bottle it for use. Let the fistula be syringed with this often, a little warm ; and make a tent to fit the place, and dip it in the water, and apply it twice a-day. Cover it over with a plaster of Diacidum.

This water will destroy the callosity of the edges of the fistula, which otherwise would prevent its healing, and if managed as above, will heal it up at the same time.

113. To destroy Fleas and Bags.

355. Cover the floor of the room with leaves of Alder, gathered while the dews hangs upon them; adhering to these, they are killed thereby.

35 G, Or powder stavesacre, and sprinkle it on the body, or on the bed.

114. Phlegm.

357. To prevent or cure, take a spoonful of warm water, the first thing in the morning.

115. Flooding (in Lying-in.)

358. Cover the body with cloths dipt in mncjar

F

62 and water, changing them as they grow warm. Drink cooling acid liquors.

This is a complaint which is never to be thought little of. Sometimes a violent flooding comes on before delivery, and the only way to save both the mother and child, is to deliver the woman immediately; which, being done, the flooding will generally cease. Sometimes a slight flooding comes on some weeks before labour ; and here, if the patient be kept cool, her diet light, and small doses of Nitre often repeated, (an ounce divided into thirty parts, and one given every four hours,) she will frequently go her full time, and do well ; but if it should become excessive, de- livery should be effected as soon as may be.

If a flooding should come on after delivery, the patient should be laid with her head low, kept cool, and be in all respects, treated as for an excessive flux of the menses. Linen cloths which have been wrung out of vinegar and water, should be applied to the belly, the loins, and the thighs. These must be changed as they grow dry, and may be discontinued as the flooding abates. Sometimes the following mixture will do great things, viz. '.—Penny- royal-Water, simple Cinnamon-Water, and Syrup of Poppies, of each two ounces ; Acid Elixir of Vitriol one drachm. Mix, and take two table-spoonfuls every hour. But large doses of Nitre given often (a scruple every hour,) is generally the most efficacious. But when all other things seem to have no effect, cold water dashed upon the patient's belly, will stop the flooding immediately.

116. Flux.

359. Receive the smoke of Turpentine cast on burning coals. This cures also the Bloody Flux and the Falling of the Fundament.

360. Or put a large brown Toast into three quarts of water, with a drachm of cochineal powder- ed, and a drachm of salt of wormwood. Drink it all in as short time as you conveniently can.

This rarely fails to cure all Fluxes, Cholera Morbus, yea, and inflammations of the bowels. Tried.

361. Or take a spoonful of Plantane-seed bruised, morning and evening till it stops.

63

362. Or ten grains of Ipecacuanha, three morn- ings successively. It is likewise excellent as a sudorific.

363. Or boil four ounces of rasped Logwood, or fresh Logwood chips, in three quarts of water to two ; strain it, and drink a quarter of a pint, sweetened with loaf-sugar warm, twice a-daj. It both binds and heals. Or take a small tea-cupful of it every hour.

364. Or boil the fat of a breast of mutton in a quart of water for an hour. Drink the broth as soon as you can conveniently. This will cure the most inveterate flux. Tried.

117. Bloody Flux.

365. Apply a suppository of linen dipt in Aqua Vita*.

366. Or, drink cold water, as largely as possible, taking nothing else till the flux stops.

367. Or, take a large apple, and at the top pick out all the core, and fill up the place with a piece of honey comb ; (the honey being strained out,) roast the apple in embers, and eat it, and this will stop the flux immediately.

368. Or grated rhubarb, as much as lies on a shilling, with half as much of grated nutmeg, in a glass of white wine, at lying down, every other night. Tried.

369. Or take four drops of Laudanum, and ap- ply to the belly a poultice of wormwood and red roses boiled in milk.

370. In a Dysentery, the worst of all fluxes, feed on rice, saloup, sago, and sometimes beef-tea; but no flesh.

371. To stop it, take a spoonful of suet melted over a slow fire. Do not let blood.

64

372. A person was cured in one day, by feeding on rice milk, and sitting a quarter of an hour in a 'shallow tub, having in it icarm water three inches deep.

118. To prevent (or stop a beginning) Gangrene.

373. Foment continually with Vinegar, in which dross of iron (either sparks or clinkers) has been boiled.

119. The Gout in the Stomach.

374. Dissolve two drachms of Venice Treacle in a glass of Mountain. After drinking it, go to bed. You will be easier in two hours, and well in sixteen.

*375. Or, boil a pugilf of Tansey, in a quarter of a pint of Mountain. Drink it in bed. I believe this never fails.

*376. To prevent its return, dissolve half an ounce of Gum Guaiacum, in two ounces of Sal Volatile. Take a teaspoonful of this every morning in a glass of spring water.

This helps any sharp pain in the stomach.

N.B. I knew a gentleman who was cured many times by a large draught of cold water.

1 20. The Gout in the Foot or Hand. 377. Apply a raw lean beef -steak. Change it once in twelve hours, till cured. Tried.

121. The Gout in any Limh.\ *378. Rub the part with warm Treacle, and then bind on a flannel smeared therewith. Repeat

-f A Pugil is as much as you can1 take up between your thumb and two fore-fingers.

X Regard not them who say, The Gout ought not to be cured. They mean, it cannot. I know it cannot by their

65

this, if need be, once in twelve hours. This lias cured an inveterate gout in thirty-six hours.

379. Or, drink a pint of strong infusion of Elder-buds, dry or green, morning and evening. This has cured inveterate gouts.

380. Or, at six in the evening, undress and wrap yourself up in blankets. Then put your legs up to the knees in water, as hot as you can bear it. As it cools, let hot water be poured in, so as to keep you in a strong sweat till ten. Then go into a bed well warmed, and sweat till morning. — I have known this cure an inveterate gout, in a person above sixty, who lived eleven years after. — The very matter of the gout is frequently destroyed by a steady use of Mynsichfs Elixir of Vitriol.

122. The Gravel.

381. Eat largely of spinage.

382. Or, drink largely of warm water sweet- ened with honey.

383. Or, of Pellitory of the Wall Tea, so sweetened.

384. Or, infuse an ounce of wild parsley seeds in a pint of white wine for twelve days. Drink a glass of it fasting, three months. To prevent its return, breakfast for three months on Agrimony Tea. It entirely cured me twenty years ago, nor have I had the least symptom of it since.

123. The Green Sickness.

385. Take an ounce of Quicksilver every morning,

386. Or, a cup of decoction of LignumGuaiacum, (commonly called Lignum Vitae) morning and evening.

regular prescriptions. But I have known it cured in many cases, without any ill effects following. I have cured my- self several times.

f3

66

387. Or, grind together into a fine powder three ounces of the finest steel-filings, and two ounces of red sugar-candy. Take from a scruple to half a drachm every morning. (/.)

124. To hill Animalculce that cause the

Gums to waste away from the Teeth. 388. Gargle thrice a day with salt and ivater.

125. To make the Hair Grow,

389. Wash it every night with a strong decoc- tion of Rosemary. Dry it with flannel. Tried.

126. Headach.

390. Rub the head for a quarter of an hour. Tried.

391. Or, be Electrified. Tried.

392. Or, apply to each temple the thin yellow rind of a Lemon, newly pared of.

393. Or, pour upon the palm of the hand a little brandy and some zest* of lemon, and hold it to the forehead. Or, a little JEther.

394. Or, if you have catched cold, boil a handful of Rosemary in a quart of water. Put this in a mug, and hold your head (covered with a napkin) over the steam, as hot as you can bear. Repeat this till the pain ceases. Tried.

395. Or, snuff up camphorated spirits t of Lavender.

396. Or a little juice of horse-radish.

127. Chronical Headach.

397. Keep your feet in warm ivater a quarter of an hour before you go to bed, for two or three weeks. Tried.

Zrst is the juice of the peel squeezed out.

67

398. Or wear tender Hemlock- Leaves under the feet, changing them daily.

399. Or order a tea-kettle of cold water to be poured on your head, every morning in a slender stream.

400. Or take a large tea-cupful of Carduus Tea, without sugar, fasting for six or seven mornings. Tried.

128. Tleadach from Heat

401. Apply to the forehead cloths dipt in cold water for an hour. Tried.

129. Nervous Headach.

402. Dry and powder an ounce of Marjoram and half an ounce of Asarabacca ; mix them and take them as snuff, keeping the ears and throat warm. This is of great use even in a cancer ; but it will suffice to take a small pinch every other night, lying down in bed.

130. Violent Headach.

403. Take of white wine, vinegar, and water, each three spoonfuls ; with half a spoonful of Hungary-water. Apply this twice a day to the eyelids and temples.

131. Hemicrania.\

4fr4. Use cold bathing.

405. Or apply to that part of the head shaved a plaster that will stick, with a hole cut in the middle of it as big as a halfpenny ; place over that hole leaves of Ranunculus bruised and very moist. It is a gentle blister.

•f This is a headache which affects but one side of the head.

68 132. Stoppage in the Head.

406. Snuff up juice of Primrose, keeping the head warm.

133. Heart-Burning.^

407. Drink a pint of cold water. Tried.

408. Or drink slowly decoction of camomile flowers.

409. Or eat four or five Oysters.

410. Or chew five or six Pepper-corns a little ; then swallow them.

411. Or chew Fennel or Parsley, and swallow your spittle. — Sometimes a Vomit is needful.

412. Or a piece of Spanish-liquorice.

134. The Hiccup, (to prevent.)

413. Infuse a scruple of Musk in a quart of Moun- tain-ioine, and take a small glass every morning.

(To Cure.)

414. Swallow a mouthful of water, stopping the mouth and ears. Tried.

415. Or take any thing that makes you sneeze.

416. Or two or three preserved Damsons.

417. Or three drops of Oil of cinnamon on a lump of sugar. Tried.

418. Or ten drops of chymical Oil of Amber dropt on sugar, and then mixed with a little water.

135. Hoarseness. *419. Rub the soles of the feet before the fire with garlic and lard well beaten together, over night. The hoarseness will be gone the next mor- ning. Tried.

420. Or take a pint of cold water lying down.

421. Or swallow slowly the juice of Radishes.

•j- A sharp gnawing pain in the orifice of the stomach.

69

422. Or half a pint of Mutfard-ichey, lying down.

423. Or a tea-spoonful of conserve of Hoses every night. Tried.

424. Or dry Nettle-Roots in an oven. Then powder them finely, and mix with an equal quan- tity of Treacle. Take a tea-spoonful of this twice a day.

425. Or boil a large handful of wheat-bran in a quart of water ; strain, and sweeten it with honey. Sup of it frequently.

136. Hypochondriac and Hysteric Disorders.

426. Use cold bathing.

4:27. Or take an ounce of Quicksilver every morning, and ten drops of Elixir of Vitriol in the afternoon, in a glass of cold water.

137. The Jaundice.

428. Wear leaves of Celendine upon and under the feet.

429. Or take a small pill of Castile-soap every morning, for eight or ten days. Tried.

430. Or beat the white of an Egg thin ; take it morning and evening in a glass of water. I.

431 . Or half a pint of strong decoction of Nettles. Or of Burdock-leaves, morning and evening.

432. Or boil three ounces of Burdochroot in two quarts of water to three pints. Driuk a tea- cupful of this every morning.

138. Jaundice in Children.

433. Take half an ounce of fine rhubarb, powdered. Mix with it thoroughly, by long beat- ing, two handfuls of good well-cleansed currants. Of this give a tea-spoonful every morning.

70 139. The Iliac Passion. f

434. Apply warm flannels soaked in spirits of wine.

435. Or hold a live puppy constantly on the belly. (Dr Sydenham.)

436. Or immerge up to the breast in a warm bath.

437. Or take, ounce by ounce, a pound, or a pound and a half of Quicksilver. — See Dr Tissot, page 120.

Inflammations in general are more certainly abated by smart purging than by bleeding.

140. An Imposthmne.

438. Put the white of two leeks in a wet cloth, and so roast them in ashes, but not too much. Stamp them in a mortar with a little hogs-grease. Spread it thick, plaster-wise, and apply it, chang- ing it every hour, till all the matter be come out, which will be in three times. /.

141. Theltch.%

439. Wash the parts affected with strong rum. Tried.

440. Or, anoint them with black soap, but wash it off soon.

*441. Or, steep a shirt half an hour in a quart of water, mixed with half an ounce of powdered brimstone. Dry it slowly, and wear it five or six days. Sometimes it needs repeating. Tried.

*f- In this violent kind of cholic, the excrements are supposed to be thrown up by the mouth in vomiting.

X This distemper is nothing but a kind of very small lice which burrow under the skin. Therefore inward medi- cines are absolutely needless Is it possible any physician

should be ignorant of this?

71

442. Or, mix powder of white hellebore with cream for three days. Anoint the joints three mornings and evenings. It seldom fails.

443. Or, beat together the juice of two or three lemons, with the same quantity of oil of roses. Anoint the parts affected. It cures in two or three times using.

142. The King's Evil.f

444. Take as much cream of tartar as lies on a sixpence every morning and evening.

445. Or, drink for six weeks half a pint of a strong decoction of devil' s-bit. Tried.

*446. Or, use the diet-drink, as in the article Scorbutic Sores. I have known this cure one whose breast was as full of holes as a honey-comb.

447. Or, set a quart of honey by the fire to melt. When it is cold, strew into it a pound and a half of quick-lime beat very fine, and sifted through a hair-sieve. Stir this about, till it boil up of itself into a hard lump. Beat it when cold, very fine, and sift it as before. Take of this as much as lies on a shilling, in a glass of water, every morning, an hour before breakfast, at four in the afternoon, and at going to bed.

448. Or, make a leaf of dried burdock into a pint of tea. Take half a pint twice a day, for four months. I have known this cure hundreds.

449. The best purge for the King's Evil, is Tincture of Jalap, which is made thus : — Jalap

in powder, three ounces ; Geneva, or proof spirits, one pint. Let them infuse seven days. A tea-

-f- It commonly appears first, by the thickness of the lips, or a stubborn humour in the eyes ; then come hard swellings in the neck chiefly ; then running sores,

72

spoonful or two is sufficient for a child ten years old, in a morning fasting, and repeated once a week, so as to keep the stomach and bowels clean, will frequently cure the King's-Evil. But all violent purges, when repeated too often, are perni- cious.

143. Lameness from a Fived Contraction of the Parts.

450. Beat the yolk of a.new-laid egg very thin, and by a spoonful at a time, add and beat up with it three ounces of water. Rub this gently into the parts for a few minutes, three or four times a-day.

144. Legs Inflamed.

*451. Apply Fullers-earth spread on brown paper. It seldom fails.

452. Or bruised turnips.

145. Legs Soj~e and Running.

453. Wash them in brandy, and apply elder- leaves, changing them twice a-day. This will dry up all the sores, though the legs were like an honeycomb. Tried.

454. Or, poultice them with rotten apples. Tried. But take also three or four purges. ,

146. Leprosy. -\

455. Use the cold-bath.

456. Or, wash in the sea, often and long.

457. Or, mix well an ounce of pomatum, a drachm of powdered brimstone, and half an, ounce of sal prunellce, and anoint the parts so long as there is need.

-f* In this disease, the skin in many parts is coA'ered with rough, whitish, scaly pustules ; and if these are rubbed oif, with a kind of scaly scurf.

♦ 73

458. Or arid a pint of juice of Houseleek, and half a pint of Verjuice, to a pint and a-half of whey. Drink this in twenty-fours hours : — It often cures the quinsej, and white swellings on the joints.

459. Or drink half a pint of Celery whey, morning and evening. This has cured in a most desperate case.

460. Or drink for a month, a decoction of bur- doch leaves, morning and evening. Tried.

147. Lethargy,

461. Snuff strong vinegar up the nose.

462. Or take half a pint of decoction of water- cresses, morning and evening.

148. Lice, (to kill.)

463. Sprinkle Spanish snuff over the head.

464. Or wash it with a decoction of Amaranth. 149. Foi* one seemingly hilled with

IAglitning, a Damp, or Suffocated.

465. Plunge him immediately into cold water.

466. Or blow strongly with bellows down his throat. This may recover a person seemingly drowned. It is still better, if a strong man blows into his mouth.

150. Lues Venerea.

467. Take an ounce of Quicksilver every morn- ing, and a spoonful of Aqua Sulphur ata in a glass of water, at five in the afternoon. I have known a person cured by this, when supposed to be at the point of death, who had been infected by a foul nurse, before she was a year old.

I insert this for the sake of such innocent sufferers.

151. Lunacy.

468. Give decoction of Agrimony four times a-day.

74

•469. Or rub the head several times a-day with vinegar in which ground Ivy leaves have been infused.

470. Or take daily an ounce of distilled vinegar ■.

471. Or boil juice of ground Ivy with sweet oil and white wine into an ointment. Shave the head, anoint it therewith, and chafe it in warm, every other day for three weeks. Bruise also also the leaves, and bind them on the head, and give three spoonfuls of the juice warm every morning. This generally cures melancholy.

The juice alone, taken twice a-day, will cure.

472. Or Electrify. Tried.

152. Raging Madness, f

473. Apply to the head, cloths dipt in cold water,

474. Or set the patient with his head under a great water fall, as long as his strength will bear. Or pour water on his head out of a tea-kettle.

475. Or let him eat nothing but apples for a month.

476. Or nothing but bread and milk. Tried.

153. Bite of a Mad Dog.

477. Plunge into cold water daily for twenty days, and keep as long under it as possible. This has cured, even after the hydrophobia was begun.f

478. Or mix ashes of trefoil with hog's lard, and anoint the part as soon as possible. Repeat it twice or thrice at six hours distance. This

•f- It is a sure rule, that all madmen are cowards, and

may be conquered by binding only, without beating Dr

Mead. He also observes, that blistering the head does more harm than good. Keep the head close shaved, and frequently wash it with Vinegar.

% If this is really a nervous disorder, what wonder if it should be cured by cold bathing ?

75 _

has cured many, and particularly a dog bit on the nose by a mad dog.

479. Or mix a pound of salt with a quart of water. Squeeze, bathe, and wash the wound with this for an hour. Then bind some salt upon it for twelve hours.

N.B. — The author of this Receipt was bit six times by mad dogs, and always cured himself by this means.

480. Or mix powdered liver-wort, four drachms, black pepper, two drachms. Divide this into four parts, and take one in warm milk for four mornings fasting. Dr Mead affirms he never knew this fail. But it has sometimes failed.

481. Or take two or three spoonfuls of the juice of Ribwort, morning and evening, as soon as possible after the bite. Repeat this for two or three changes of the moon. It has not been known to fail.

154. Measles.^

Immediately consult an honest physician.

482. Drink only thin water gruel, or milk and water, the more the better ; or toast and water.

483. If the cough be very troublesome, take frequently a spoonful of barley water sweetened with oil of sweet Almonds newly drawn, mixed with syrup of maiden-hair.

484. After the measles, take three or four purges, and for ,some weeks take care of catching cold ; use light diet, and drink barley water in- stead of malt drink.

155. Menses obstructed.

485. Be electrified. Tried.

•f This distemper ia always preceded by a violent cough, often fourteen days before the red spots come out.

76

486. Or take half a pint of .strong decoction of Penny-royal, every night at going to bed.

487. Or boil five large heads of hemp, in a pint of water, down to half. Strain it, and drink it at going to bed, two or three nights. It seldom fails. Tried.

488. Or take from eight to twelve grains of Calomel, in a pill, for two or three nights, taking care not to catch cold. It vomits and purges. Tried.

489. Or pour twelve ounces of rectified spirits of wine, on four ounces of roots of black Hellebore, and let it stand in a warm place twenty-four hours. Pour it off, and take from thirty to forty drops in any liquid, fasting.

It is good likewise in the green sickness, in all hypochondriacal cases, and in obstinate madness.

490. Or burn a little sulphur of Antimony on a chafing-dish of coals, and receive the smoke by a funnel. In a few minutes it will take effect.

Let any of these medicines be used at the regular times as near as can be judged.

156. Menses Nimii.

491. Drink nothing but cold water, with a spoonful of fine flour stirred in it. At that time drink a glass of the coldest water you can get, apply a thick cloth dipt in cold water.

492. Or put the feet into cold water.

493. Or apply a sponge dipt in red wine and vinegar.

494. Or bleed in the arm. Stop the orifice often with the finger, and then let it bleed again.

495. Or boil four or five leaves of the red Holly- hock in a pint of milk, with a small quantity of sugar. Drink this in the morning. If the person

77

can afford it, she may add a tea-spoonful of balm of Gilead. This seldom fails.

*496. Or reduce to a fine powder, half an ounce of Alum, with a quarter of an ounce of Dragons Blood. In a violent case, take a quarter of a drachm every half hour. It scarce ever fails to stop the flux, before half an ounce is taken.

This also cures the whites.

157. To resolve Coagulated Milk.

497. Cover the woman with a table cloth, and hold a pan of hot water just under her breast ; then stroke it three or four minutes. Do this twice a-day, till it is cured.

158. To increase Milk.

498. Drink a pint of water going to bed.

499. Or drink largely of pottage made with Lentils.

159. To make Milk agree with the Stomach.

500. If it lie heavy, put a little salt in it ; if it curdle, sugar. For bilious persons, mix it with water,

160. Mortification (to stop.)

501. Apply a poultice of flour, honey, and water, with a little yeast,

161. Nervous Gholic.

502. When the nerves perform their office too languidly, a good air is the first requisite. The patient also should rise early, and as soon as the dew is off the ground, walk ; let his breakfast be Mother-of-thyme tea, gathered in June, using half as much as we do of common tea. When the nerves are too sensible, let the person breathe

«8

78

a proper air. Let him eat veal, chickens, or mutton. Vegetables should be ate sparingly ; the most innocent is the French bean, and the best root, the turnip. Wine should be avoided carefully ; so should all sauces. Sometimes he may breakfast upon a quarter of an ounce of the powder of Valerian Root infused in hot water, to which he may add cream and sugar. Tea is not proper. When the person finds an uncommon oppression, let him take a large spoonful of the tincture of Valerian Boot.

This Tincture should be made thus : — Cut to pieces six ounces of wild Valerian-Hoot, gathered in June, and fresh dried. Bruise it by a few strokes in a mortar, that the pieces may be split, but it should not be beat into powder, put this into a quart of strong white wine; cork the bottle, and let it stand three weeks, shaking it every day ; then press it out, and filter the Tincture through the paper.

The true wild Valerian has no bad smell ; if it has, cats have urined upon it, which they will do, if they can come at it.

503. But I am firmly persuaded, there is no remedy in nature for nervous disorders of every kind, comparable to the proper and constant use of the electrical machine.

162. Nettle Bash.f

504. Rub the parts strongly with parsley. In- ternals profit nothing..

163. Old Age.

505. Take Tar-watcr morning and evening. Tried.

-f- A slight fever, (which sometimes lasts for weeks,) at- tended with itching or smarting, and an eruption all over the body, just like that occasioned by nettles. In Georgia, we called it — The Prickly Heat.

79

506. Or decoction of nettles ; either of these will probably renew the strength for some years.

507. Or be electrified daily.

508. Or chew Cinnamon daily, and swallow your spittle.

164. Old stubborn pain in the Back.

509. Steep root of Water-fern in water, till the water become thick and clammy. Then rub the parts therewith morning and evening.

510. Or apply a plaster, and take daily balsam of Capivi. Or apply Garlic and Hog's-lard to the feet, as Art. 418. Tried.

165. Palsy. \

511. Be electrified daily for three months, from the places where the nerves spring which are brought to the paralytic part. If the parts beneath the head are affected, the fault is in the spinal marrow. If half the body, half the marrow is touched.

A Palsy may be cured in spring or summer, but rarely in winter.

512. Or use the cold bath, if you are under fifty, rubbing and sweating after it.

513. Or shred white Onions, and bake them gently in an earthen pot, till they are soft ; spread a thick plaster of this, and apply it to the benumbed part, all over the side, if need be. I have known this cure a person 75 years old.

514. Or take Tar- water morning and evening.

515. Or boil white and red Sage, a handful of- each in a quart of white Wine. Strain and bottle it. Take a small glass morning and evening.

This helps all nervous disorders.

f A Palsy is the loss of motion or feeling, or both, in any particular part of the body.

80

516. Or take a tea-spoonful of powdered Sage, lying down in bed.

166. Palsy of the Hands.

517. Wash them often in decoction of Sage, as hot as you can bear.

518. Or boil a handful of Elder-leaves, or two or three spoonfuls of Mustard-seed, in a quart of water. Wash as often in this as hot as may be.

167. Palsy of the Mouth.

519. After purging well, chew Mustard-seed often.

520. Or gargle with juice of Wood-sage.

168. Palsy from working with White Lead or Verdigris.

521. Use warm baths and a milk diet.

169. Palpitation, or Beating of the Heart.

522. Drink a pint of cold water.

523. Or apply outwardly a rag dipt in Vinegar.

524. Or be Electrified. Tried.

525. Or take a decoction of Mother's- Wort every night.

170. Piles {to prevent.)

526. Wash the parts daily with cold water.

171. Piles (to cure.)

527. Apply warm Treacle.

528. Or a Tobacco-Leaf steeped in water twenty-four hours.

529. Or a poultice of boiled Brook-Lime. It seldom fails.

530. Or a bruised Onion skinned, or roasted in ashes. It perfectly cures the dry piles.

81

531. Or Varnish. It perfectly cures both the blind and bleeding piles. Tried.

532. Or fumigate with Vinegar, wherein red hot flints have been quenched. This softens even scirrhus tumours.

172. Inward Piles.

533. Swallow a pill of Pitch, fasting. One pill usually cures the bleeding piles.

534. Or eat a large Leek, boiled.

535. Or take twice a day as much as lies on a shilling of the thin skins of Walnuts, powdered.

173. Violent Bleeding Piles.

536. Lightly boil juice of Nettles with a little Sugar. Take two ounces. It seldom needs repeating.

174. Plague (to prevent.)

537. Eat Marigold-flov-ers daily, as a sallad, with oil and vinegar.

538. Or infuse Rue, Sage, Mint, Rosemary, Wormwood, of each a handful, in two quarts of the sharpest Vinegar, over warm embers, for eight days. Then strain it through a flannel, and add half an ounce of Camphor, dissolved in three ounces of rectified Spirits of Wine. With this wash the loins, face, and mouth, and snuff a little up the nose when you go abroad. Smell to a sponge dipt therein, when you approach infected persons or places.

N.B. This is the famous Marseilles Vinegar.

175. Plague (to cure.)

539. Cold Water alone, drank largely, has cured it.

540. Or an ounce or two of the juice of Marigolds.

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541. Or after bleeding fifty or sixty ounces, drink very largely of water sharpened with spirit of Vitriol.

542. Or a draught of brine as soon as seized. Sweat in bed. Take no other drink for some hours.

Or use Lemon juice largely in every thing.

176. Pleurisy. f

543. Take half a drachm of Soot.

544. Or take out the core of an apple ; fill it with white Frankincense; stop it close with the piece you cut out, and roast it in ashes. Mash and eat it. (I.)

545. Or a glass of Tar-water warm, every half hour.

546. Or of decoction of Nettles ; and apply the boiled herb hot, as a poultice. I never knew it fail.

547. Or a plaster of Flour of Brimstone and white of an Egg. Tried. This seldom fails.

548. In disorders of this kind, Dr Huxham ad- vises, " Sip almost continually thin Whey, Barley- water, or Hyssop-tea, sharpened with Lemon-juice, or Vinegar and water. If the spitting stop sud- denly, take a little vomit. Likewise camphorated Vinegar, with Syrup of Elder, or Raspberries, is

good. To appease the cough, take often, a little at a time, of roasted Apples, of Strawberries, Raspberries, or Currants.

177. To one Poisoned,

549. Give one or two grains of distilled Verdi- gris ; it vomits in an instant.

•f A Pleurisy is a fever attended with a violent pain in the side, and a pulse remarkably hard.

83

550. Let one poisoned by arsenic dissolve a quarter of an ounce of Salt of Tartar in a pint of water, and drink every quarter of an hour as much as he can, till he is well.

551. Let one poisoned by opium take thirty drops of Elixir of Vitriol in cold water, every quarter of an hour, till the drowsiness or wild- ness ceases.

552. Or a spoonful of Lemon-juice.

553. Let one poisoned with mercury sublimate dissolve an ounce of Salt of Tartar in a gallon of water, and drink largely of it. This will entirely destroy the force of the poison, if it be used soon.

554 Nothing cures the African poison but a decoction of the roots of the Sensitive Plant.

178. Polypus in the Nose.

555. Powder a lump of Alum, and snuff it up frequently. Then dissolve powdered Alum in Brandy, dip lint therein, and apply it at going to bed.

179. A Prick or Gut that festers.

556. Apply Turpentine.

180. Ptyalism.f

557. A very violent and stubborn disorder of this kind was cured by chewing perpetually a little dry Bread, and swallowing it with the spittle.

181. An easy Purge.

558. Drink a pint of warmish Water, fasting, walking after it.

559. Or a soft Egg with a tea-spoonful of salt.

560. Or infuse from half a drachm to two

•f A continual spitting.

84

drachms of Damask Rose Leaves dried, in half a pint of warm water for twelve hours, and take it,

561. Or infuse three drachms of Senna, and a scruple of Salt of Tartar, in half a pint of river- water for twelve hours. Then strain and take it in the morning.

562. Wild-Ash is a plant of the very same nature with senna. Its leaves taken in the same quantity purge full as well, and do not gripe as senna does It is therefore preferable to that which is brought from Turkey or Italy.

The wild-ash is called in the north of England, rowan- tree, quicken, quick-beam, or wiggan-tree. The leaves should be gathered when the tree is in flower.

182. A stronger Purge.

563. Drink half a pint of strong decoction of Dock-Root.

564:. Or two drachms of the powdered root of Monks Rhuburb, with a scruple of Ginger.

183. The Quinsy.}

565. Apply a large white-bread toast, half an inch thick, dipt in Brandy, to the crown of the head, till it dries.

566. Or swallow slowly white Rose-icater mixed with syrup of Mulberries: Tried.

567. Or juice or jelly of black Currants, or decoction of the leaves or bark.

568. Or draw in, as hot as you can bear, (for ten or twelve minutes together), the fumes of red Rose-leaves, or Camomile-jloivers, boiled in water and vinegar. Or of a decoction of bruised Hemp-

f The Quinsy is a fever attended with difficulty of swallowing, and often of breathing.

85

seed. This speedily cures the sore-throat, peri- pneumony, and inflammation of the uvula.

184. Quinsy of the Breast. f

569. Take from eight to twenty drops of Laudanum lying down in bed. This helps.

570. Or make an issue in the thigh. This cures.

185. Rheumatism.^

571. To prevent : Wear washed Wool under the feet.

572. To cure : Use the cold bath, with rubbing and sweating.

573. Or apply warm steams.

574. Or rub in warm Treacle, and apply to the part brown paper smeared therewith : change it in twelve hours. Tried.

575. Or drink half a pint of Tar-water morn- ing and evening.

576. Or steep six or seven cloves of Garlic, in half a pint of white wine. Drink it lying down. It sweats, and frequently cures at once.

577. Or mix flour of Brimstone with Honey in equal quantities. Take three tea-spoonfuls at night, two in the morning, and one afterwards morning and evening till cured. This succeeds oftener than any remedy I have found.

578. Or live on new Milk-whey and white bread for fourteen days. This has cured in a desperate case.

*1* This is known by a sudden unaccountable pain and difficulty of breathing, seizing a person in the night, or on any violent motion.

J Rheumatical pains are generally most violent as soon as you are warm in bed. But there is a cold rheumatism, which is most painful when the part is cold. Constant rubbing will cure this.

H

86

579. Or pound the green stalks of English Rhubarb in May or June with an equal quantity of lump-sugar. Take the quantity of a nutmeg of this three or four times a day. This seldom fails.

In a stubborn rheumatism let your diet be barley gruel, with currants, roasted apples, fresh whey, and light pudding.

186. To restore the strength after a

Rheumatism.

580. Make a strong broth of cow-heels, and wash the parts with it warm twice a day. It has restored one who was quite a cripple, having no strength left either in his leg, thigh, or loins.

581. Or mix Gum Guaiacum (in powder) with honey or. treacle, take two or three tea-spoonfuls, (or as much as you can bear without purging,) twice or thrice a day. This is the best medicine I have met with for the chronic rheumatism.

582. Or dissolve one ounce of Gum Guaiacum in three ounces of spirit of wine. Take sixty or eighty drops on loaf-sugar two or three times a day. This is Dr Hill's Essence of Bardana.

*583. Or drop thirty drops of Volatile Tincture of Guaiacum on a lump of sugar, and take this in a glass of water every four hours. It usually cures in a day. Tried,

187. Rickets (to prevent or cure.)

584. Wash the child every morning in cold water.

188. Ringworm.j

585. Apply rotten Apples, or pounded Garlic.

586. Or rub them with the juice of Houseleeh.

■f- Vulgarly called Tetters.

87

587. Or wash them with Hungary-water cam- phorated.

588. Or twice a day with oil of sweet Almonds and oil of Tartar mixed.

189. Manning at the Nose.

589. Snuff up a tea-spoonful of spirit of Harts- horn.

190. Rupture.

590. Foment with hot Aqua Vitce for two hours.

591. Or take Agrimony, Spleenwort, Solomon s Seal, Strawberry-roots, a handful of each ; pick and wash them well ; stamp and boil them two hours in two quarts of white wine, in a vessel close stopt. Strain, and drink a large glass of this every morning ; and an hour after, drink another. It commonly cures in a fortnight. A good truss meantime is of great use, and perhaps the only thing to be depended on.

592. "I place," says Dr Riviere, " a broad plank sloping from the side of the bed to the ground. On this I lay the patient upon pillows, with his head downward. Then I foment the part for half an hour, with cloths four times doubled, steeped in cold water, gently touching it with my fingers. Afterwards I bind on it, many times doubled, a cloth shaped like a triangle, wet in cold water. The gut is generally restored to its place in a few hours. If not, I repeat the operation twice a day, and in two or three days the disease is cured."

191. Rupture in Children.

593. Boil a spoonful of Egg-shells, dried in an oven and powdered, in a pint of milk, or three quarters of a pint. Feed the child constantly with bread boiled in this milk.

88 192. Windy Rupture.

594. Warm Cow Dung well ; spread it thick on leather, strewing some Cumin- Seeds on it, and apply it hot. When cold, pnt on a new one. It commonly cures a child (keeping his bed) in two days.

193. Scald Head.

595. Anoint it with Barbadoes Tar.

596. Or apply daily White Wine Vinegar. Tried.

597. If Wood- Soot is mixed with fresh butter, into an ointment, and the head anointed with it every day, it will generally cure it at the begin- ning ; but when it is become very bad, a plaster should be made of Gall, dried to the consistency of a salve, and spread upon linen. This should be applied all over the parts affected, and continu- ed on four or five days ; then it should be taken off, and the head dressed with the Soot- Ointment as before.

After the cure, give two or three gentle purges.

If a proper regard were paid to cleanliness in the head and apparel of children, the scald head would seldom be seen.

194. Sciatica.-f

598. Is certainly cured by a Purge taken in a few hours after it begins.

599. Or use cold bathing, and sweat, together with the flesh-brush twice a day.

600. Or boil Nettles till soft. Foment with the liquor, then apply the herb as a poultice. I have known this cure a sciatica of forty-five years standing.

f The Sciatica is a violent pain in the hip, chiefly in the joint of the thigh-bone.

89

601. Or apply Nettles bruised in a mortar. *602. Or a mud made of powdered pit-coal and warm water. This frequently cures sores, weak- ness of the limbs, most disorders of the legs, and swellings and stiffness of the joints. It cured a swelling of the elbow-joint, though accompanied with a fistula, arising from a caries of the bone.

195. Inflammation or Sivelling of the Scrotum.

603. Wash it thrice a day with strong decoc- tion of Agrimony.

196. Scorbutic Atrophy. f

604. Use cold bathing. Which also cures all scorbutic pains.

197. Scorbutic Gums.

605. Wash them daily with a decoction of the Peruvian Bark, adding a little Tincture of Roses, with a solution of Myrrh.

198. Scorbutic Sores.

606. A Diet-drink. — Put half a pound of fresh shaved Lignum Guaiacum (called by the block- makers Lignum Vitas), and half an ounce of Senna into an earthen pot that holds six quarts. Add five quarts of soft water, and lute the pot close. Set this in a kettle of cold water, and put it over a fire till it has boiled three hours. Let it stand in the kettle till cold. When it has stood one night, drink daily half a pint, new-milk warm, in the morning, fasting, and at four in the afternoon. Wash with a little of it. In three months all the sores will be dried up. Tried.

f Such a degree of the Scurvy as causes the flesh to waste away like n Consumption.

hS

90 199. Scurvy. i

607. Live on Turnips for a month.

608. Or, take Tar-water, morning and evening, for three months.

609. Or, three spoonfuls of Nettle-juice every morning. Tried.

*610. Or, decoction of burdock. Boil three ounces of the dried root in two quarts of water to three pints. Take half a pint daily ; unless it purge too much, if so, take less. A decoction of the leaves (boiling one leaf four minutes in a quart of water) has the same effect.

611. Or, take a cupful of the juice of Goose- grass, in a morning, fasting, for a month ; it is frequently called Hariff, or Cleavers. Last year I knew many persons cured by it.

612. Or, pound into a pulp, of Seville Oranges, sliced, rind and all, and powdered sugar, equal quantities. Take a tea-spoonful three or four times a-day. Tried.

613. Or, squeeze the juice of half a Seville orange into a pint of milk over the fire. Sweeten the whey with loaf-sugar, and drink it every morning, new-milk warm. To make any whey, milk should be skimmed, after it is boiled.

614. Or pour three quarts of boiling water on a quart of ground Malt: stir them well, and let the mixture stand covered close, for four hours ; strain it off, and use this as common drink ; in

"f The Scurvy is known by heaviness of body, weariness, rottenness of gums, and yellow, lead, or violet coloured spots, on the arms or legs.

N.B. A Scurvy attended with costiveness, (which is most common,) is termed a Hot Scurvy; one attended with looseness, a Cold scurvy.

91

hot weather, brew this fresh every day. It will hardly fail.

*615. Or take morning and evening a spoonful or two of Lemon-juice and sugar. "It is a pre- cious remedy, and well tried." — Dr Mackbride.

616. Water and garden cresses, mustard and juice of scurvy grass help in a cold scurvy .

617. When there is a continual salt taste in the mouth, take a pint of Lime-water morning and evening.

200. Broken Shin.

618. Bind a dry Oak leaf upon it.

610. Or, put on a bit of white paper moistened with spittle. It will stay on, till the place is well. Tried. — This cures a cut also. 201. Shingles.f

620. Drink sea water every morning for a week ; toward the close, bathe also.

621. Or, apply pounded Garlic.

202. Sickishness in the Morning.

622. Eat nothing after six in the evening.

623. Or, drink half a pint of water impregnated with fixed air.

203. Sinews Shrunk.

624. Rub the part every morning with fasting spittle. Tried.

625. Or beat the yolk of a new laid egg, mix it with a spoonful of water, and rub the part with it before the fire three or four times a day.

204. Skin rubbed off.

626. Apply pounded All-heat.

627. Or a bit of white paper with spittle.

•j- A kind of ringworm, which encircles the body, like a belt of a hand's breadth.

92 205. Small Pox.

628. Drink largely of toast and water.

629. Or, let your whole food be milk and water, mixed with a little white bread. Tried.

630. Or milk and apples.

631. Take care to have free, pure and cool air. Therefore open the casements every day ; only do not let it chill the patient.

632. If they strike in, and convulsions follow, drink a pint of cold water immediately. This instantly stops the convulsions, and drives out the pock. Tried.

" There may be pustules a second time, coming out and ripening like the small-pox, but it is barely a cutaneous disorder.

" In violent cases, bleed in the foot ; bathe the legs in warm water, twice or thrice a day, before and at the eruption ; and apply boiled turnips to the feet. Never keep the head too hot.

" In very low depressed cases, wine may be given ; and if the pustules lie buried in the skin, a gentle vomit. In many cases, a gentle purge of Manna, Cream of Tartar, or Rhubarb.

"In the crude ichorose small-pox, a dish of coffee now and then, with a little thick milk in it, has often quieted the vexatious cough.

" After the incrustation is formed, change the clothing of the sick' ; but let it be with very dry warm linen." Dr Huxham.

206. Long running Sore on the Back,

633. Was entirely cured by eating betony in every thing.

634. Or take every morning two or three spoon- fuls of NcUlc-jukc, and apply nettles bruised in

93

a mortar to the part. This cures any old sore or ulcer. (I)

207. Sore Leg.

635. Bind a Diachylum plaster, an inch broad, round the leg, just above the sore, and foment it, morning and evening, with hot water.

636. Any sore is healed by a plaster of mutton suet; even though it fester or breed proud flesh.

208. Sore Mouth.

637. Apply the white of an egg beat up with loaf-sugar.

638. Or gargle with the juice of Cinquefoil.

639. Or boil together a pound of treacle, three yolks of eggs, an ounce of bole ammoniac, and the quantity of a nutmeg of alum, a quarter of an hour. Apply this to the sore part, or to an aching tooth. Tried.

209. Sore Throat.

640. Take a pint of cold water lying down in bed. Tried.

641. Or, apply a chin-stay of roasted figs.

642. Or flannel sprinkled with Spirits of harts- horn to the throat, rubbing Hungary-water on the top of the head. Tried.

643. Or snuff a little honey up the nose.

644. An old sore throat was cured by living wholly upon apples and apple-water.

210. Inflamed Sore Throat

645. Lay nitre and loaf-sugar mixed on the tongue.

211. Putrid Sore Throat

646. Lay on the tongue a lump of sugar dipt in brandy. Tried.

94 212. Sprain.

647. Hold the part in very cold water for two hours. Tried.

648. Or apply cloths dipt therein, four times doubled, for two hours, changing them as they grow warm.

649. Or bathe it in good crab-verjuice.

650. Or boil bran in wine vinegar to a poultice. Apply this warm, and renew it once in twelve hours.

651. Or mix a little turpentine with flour and the yolk of an egg, and apply it as a plaster ; this cures in a desperate case.

652. Weakness remaining after a sprain, is cured by fomenting the part daily with beef-brine.

653. Suppose the ancle sprained. 1. Foment it with warm vinegar, four or five minutes every four hours. 2. Stand, if you can, three or four minutes at a time on both your feet, and frequently move the sprained foot. Sometimes also while sitting with your foot on a low stool, move it to and fro. 3. Let it be gently rubbed with a warm hand, at least thrice a day. 4. Two hours after every application of the vinegar, let it -be just wetted with spirit of wine, and then gently rubbed.

213. Venomous Sting,

654. Apply the juice of honey-suckle leaves.

655. Ora poultice of bruised plantane and honey.

656. Or, take inwardly, one drachm of black currant leaves powdered. It is an excellent counter-poison.

214. Sting of a Bee.

657. Apply honey.

95

215. Sting of a Nettle.

658. Rub the part with juice of Nettles.

216. Sting of a Wasp.

659. Rub the part with the bruised leaves oi house-leek, water-cresses, or rue.

660. Or apply treacle, or siceet oil.

661. Or bruised onions, or garlic.

217. Sting of a Bee or Wasp in the Eye.

662. Apply carduus benedictus bruised with the white of an egg ; renew it if it grows dry.

218. Sting in the Gtillet.

663. Beat well together, with a spoon, some honey and sweet oil with a little vinegar; swallow a spoonful every minute till ease is procured.

219. Stitch in the Side.

664. Apply treacle spread on a hot toast. Tried.

220. Accidental Sickness, or Pain in the

Stomach.

665. Vomit with a quart of warm water. Do this twice or thrice, omitting a day between.

221. Pain in the Stomach from bad Digestion.

666. Take, fasting, or in the fit, half a pint of Camomile tea. Do this five or six mornings.

667. Or drink the juice of half a large Lemon, or sweet Orange, immediately after dinner, every day.

668. Or from ten to twenty drops of elixir of vitriol in sage tea, twice or thrice a-day.

669. Or in the fit, a glass of vinegar.

670. Or take two or three tea-spoonfuls of stomachic tincture, in a glass of water, thrice a day.

96

bus;

ounce; Orange Peel dried, half an ounce; Cock incal, fifteen grains; of proof Brandy, one pint; in three or four days it is fit for use. — This is useful in all disorders that arise from a relaxed stomach.

222. Choleric hot Pains in the Stomach.

671. Take half a pint of decoction of ground ivy, with a tea-spoonful of the powder of it, five or six mornings. ( I.)

223. Coldness of the Stomach.

672. Take a spoonful of the syrup of the juice of Carduus Benedictus, fasting, for three or four mornings. (L)

673. Or chew a leaf of Carduus every morning, and swallow the spittle. Tried.

224. Pain in the Stomach, with Coldness and Wind.

674. Swallow five or six corns of pepper, for six or seven mornings. Tried.

225. Stone, (to prevent.) *675. Eat a small crust of dry Bread every morning. Tried.

676. Or drink a pint of warm viater daily, just before dinner. After discharging one stone, this will prevent the generating of another. Stoop down and raise yourself up again. If you feel pain as if cut through the middle, the pain is not from the stone, but rheumatism. Beware of costiveness. Use no violent diuretics. Mead is a proper drink.

677. Or slice a large Onion; pour half a pint of warm water upon it. After it has stood twelve hours, drink the water. Do this every morning till you are well.

226. In a Paging Fit. *678. Beat Onions into a pulp, and apply them

97

as a poultice to the back, or to the groin. It gives speedy ease in the most racking pain. Tried.

227. Stone, (to ease or cure,)

679. Boil half a pound of Parsnips in a quart of water. Drink a glass of this morning and evening, and use no other drink all the day. — It usually cures in six weeks.

680. " Or take morning and evening a teaspoon- ful of Onions, calcined in a fire-shovel into white ashes, in white wine. An ounce will often dissolve the stone."

681. Or take a tea-spoonful of Violet Seed powdered, morning and evening. It both wastes the stone, and brings it away.

682. Or drink largely of water impregnated with fixed air.

Those who have not a convenient apparatus may substi- tute the following method: — Dissolve fifteen grains of salt of tartar in six spoonfuls of water, to which add as much water, acidulated with oil of vitriol, as will neutralize the salt. They are to be gradually mixed with each other, so as to prevent the effervescence or dissipation of the fixed air as much as possible.

228. Stone in the Kidneys.

683. Use the cold bath.

684. Or drink half a pint of water every morning.

685. Or boil an ounce of common Thistle-root, and four drachms of Liquorice in a pint of water. Drink half of it every morning.

229. Stoppage in the Kidneys.

686. Take decoction, or juice, or syrup of Ground-Ivy, morning and evening.

687. Or half a pint of Tar- Water.

688. Or twelve grains of salt of amber in a little water.

98 230. Strangury.

689. Sit over the steam of warm water.

690. Or drink largely of decoction of Turnips, sweetened with clarified honey.

*691. Or of warm lemonade. Tried.

692. Or dissolve half an ounce of saltpetre in a quart of water ; drink a glass of it every hour.

231. Sunburn, ( smarting.)

693. Wash the face with sage-tea.

232. Fresh Surfeit.

694. Take about a nutmeg of the green tops of Wormwood.

233. To stop Profuse Sweating.

695. Drink largely of cold water.

234. To prevent it.

696. Mix an ounce of tincture of Peruvian-bark, with half an ounce of spirit of vitriol. Take a tea-spoonfui morning and night, in a glass of water.

235. To cure Night- Sweats.

697. Drink a gill of warm Milk at lying down. 236. Swelled Glands in the Neck.

698. Take sea-water every other day.

237. Indolent Swellings.

699. Are often cured by warm steams.

238. Soft and Flabby Swellings.

700. Pump cold water on them daily.

701. Oruse constant/Wcfa'on; or proper bandages.

239. White Swelling of the Joints.

702. Hold the part half an hour every morning, under a pump or cock. This cures also pains in the joints. It seldom fails. Tried.

*703. Or pour on it daily a stream of warm water.

99

704. Or a stream of cold water one day, and warm the next, and so on by turns.

Use these remedies at first, if possible. It is likewise proper to intermix gentle purges, to pre- vent a relapse.

705. Or boiled Nettles.

240. To dissolve white or hard Swellings.

706. Take white Roses, Elder- Flowers, leaves of Foxglove, and of St Johns Wort, a handful of each ; mix with hog's lard, and make an oint- ment.

707. Or hold them morning and evening in the steam of vinegar poured on red hot flints.

241. To fasten the Teeth.

708. Put powdered alum the quantity of a nutmeg, in a quart of spring icater, for twenty- four hours. Then strain the water and gargle with it.

709. Or gargle often with Phyllerea- Leaves boiled with a little Alum in Forge-water.

242. To clean the Teeth.

710. Rub them with ashes of burnt bread. 243. To prevent the Toothach.

711. Wash the mouth with cold water every morning, and rinse them after every meal.

712. Or rub the teeth often with tobacco ashes.

244. To cure the Toothach.

713. Be electrified through the teeth. Tried.

714. Or apply to the aching tooth, an artificial magnet.

715. Or rub the cheek a quarter of an hour.

716. Or lay roasted parings of turnips as hot as mav be behind the ear.

100

717. Or put a leaf of Betony bruised, up the nose.

*718, Or lay bruised or boiled nettles to the cheek. Tried.

*719. Or lay a clove of garlic on the tooth.

720. Or hold a slice of apple slightly boiled between the teeth. Tried.

721. Or keep the feet in warm water, and rub them well with bran, just before bed- time. Tried.

The first twenty teeth generally last till the sixth or seventh year. After that, till the fourteenth or fifteenth year, they fall out one by .one, and are succeeded by others,

The shedding of the teeth is wisely intended, and brought about in a singular manner. Their hardness will not admit of distension like other parts of the body. Hence after an enlargment of the jaw-bone, the original teeth are no longer able to fill up the cavities of it. They must stand unsupported by each other, and leave spaces be- tween them. Under the first teeth, therefore, is placed a new set, which, by constantly pressing upon their roots, rob them of their nourishment, and finally push them out of their sockets.

245. Toothachfrom Cold Air.

722. Keep the mouth full of warm water.

246. Teeth set on edge.

723. Rub the tops of the teeth with a dry towel.

There is no such thing as "worms in the teeth. Children's using coral, is always useless, often hurtful.

" Forcing the teeth into order, is always danger- ous. Filing is generally hurtful.

" All rough and cutting powders destroy the teeth ; so do all common tinctures.

" Sweatmeats are apt to hurt the teeth, if the mouth be not rinsed after them. Cracking nuts often breaks off the enamel ; so does biting thread in two.

101

" Constant use of toothpicks is a bad practice : Constant smoking of tobacco destroys many good sets of teeth." — Mr Beardmore.

247. Extreme Thirst fiukhout a Fever.)

724. Drink Spring-water in which a little Sal- prunellce is dissolved.

248. Pain in the Testicles.

725. Apply Pellitory of the Wall beaten up into a poultice, changing morning and evening.

249. Testicles inflamed.

726. Apply boiled Bean-flour in three parts water and one part vinegar.

250. To draw out Thorns, Splinters, and Bones.

727. Apply Nettle-roots and Salt.

728. Or Turpentine spread on leather.

251. Thrush.^

729. Mix juice of Celandine with honey to the thickness of cream, Infuse a little powdered saffron. Let this simmer awhile, and scum it. Apply it (where needed) with a feather ; at the same time give eight or ten grains of rhubarb; to a grown person, twenty grains.

730. Or take an ounce of clarified honey. Having scummed off all the dross from it, put in a drachm of Roche- Alum, finely powdered, and stir them well together. Let the child's mouth be rubbed well with this, five or six times a day, with a bit of rag tied upon the end of a stick ; and though it be the thorough thrush, it will cure

in a few days. I never knew it fail.

f Little white ulcers in the mouth.

iS

102

731. Or burn scarlet cloth to ashes, and blow them into the mouth. This seldom fails.

252. Tonsils swelled.

732. Wash them well with Lavender-water.

253. Torpor (or Numbness of the Limbs.)

733. Use the cold-bath, with rubbing and sweating.

254. Twisting of the Guts.

734. Many at the point of death have been cured by taking one, two, or three pounds of Quicksilver, ounce by ounce. See 45, page 26.

255. Tympany, or Windy Dropsy.

735. Use the cold-bath, with purges intermixed.

736. Or mix the juice of Leeks and of Elder. Take two or three spoonfuls of this morning and evening. Tried.

737. Or eat a few parched Pease every hour.

256. Vein or Sinew cut.

738. Apply the inner green rind of hazel fresh scraped.

257. Vertigo, or Swimming in the Head.

739. Take a vomit or two.

740. Or use the cold-bath for a month.

741. Or, in a May morning, about sunrise, snuff up daily the dew that is on mallow-leaves.

*742. Or apply to the top of the head, shaven, a plaster of Flour of Brimstone and Whites of Eggs. Tried.

743. Or take every morning half a drachm of Mustard-seed.

744. Or mix together one part of salt of tartar, with three parts of cream of tartar. Take a tea-spoonful in a glass of water every morning

103

fasting. This is serviceable when the vertigo springs from acid tough phlegm in tho stomach. 258. Vigilia, or inability to Sleep.

745. Apply to the forehead for two hours, cloths four times doubled dipped in cold water. I have known this applied to a lying-in woman, and her life saved thereby.

746. Or take a grain or two of camphor. It is both safer and surer than opium.

747. Assafoetida, from ten to thirty grains, likewise will, in most cases, have as much effect as opium. Drink no green tea in the afternoon.

259. Bite of a Viper or Rattlesnake.

748. Apply bruised garlic.

749. Or rub the place immediately with com- mon oil. — Query, Would not the same cure the bite of a mad dog ? Would it not be worth while to make a trial on a dog ?

260. To cure the Bite of a Viper.

750. Rub the hands with the juice of radishes.

261. Ulcer.

751. Dry and powder a walnut leaf, and strew it on, and lay another walnut leaf on that. Tried.

752. Or boil walnut-tree leaves in water with a little sugar. Apply a cloth dipped in this, chang- ing it once in two days. This has done wonders.

753. Or foment morning and evening with a decoction of walnut-tree leaves, and bind the leaves on. This has cured foul bones ; yea, and a leprosy. Tried.

262. Ulcer in the Bladder or Kidneys.

754. Take decoction of Agrimony thrice a-day.

755. Or decoction, powder, or syrup of horse- tail.

104 263. Ulcer in the Gum or Jaw.

756. Apply honey of roses sharpened with spirits of vitriol.

757. Or fill the whites of eggs boiled hard and slit, with myrrh and sugar-candy powdered. Tie them up, and hang them on sticks lying across a glass. A liquid distils, with which anoint the sores often in a day.

264. A Fistulous Ulcer.

758. Apply Wood-Betony bruised, changing it daily.

265. A Bleeding Varicose Ulcer in the Leg.

759. Was cured by constant cold bathing.

266. A Malignant Ulcer.

760. Foment morning and evening with a de- coction of mint. Then sprinkle on it finely- powdered rue.

761. Or burn to ashes (but not too long) the gross stalks on which the red coleivorts grow. Make a plaster of this and fresh butter. Change it once a-day.

762. Or apply a poultice of boiled parsnips. This will cure even when the bone is foul.

763. Or be electrified. Tried.

267. An Ulcer in the Urethra.-f

764. Take a clove of garlic morning and evening.

268. An easy and safe Vomit.

765. Pour a dish of tea on twenty grains of ipecacuanha. You may sweeten it if you please.

f The Urethra is the passage of the urine.

105

When it has stood four or five minutes, pour the tea clear off, and drink it.

269. To stop Vomiting.

766. Apply a large onion slit across the grain to the pit of the stomach. Tried.

767. Or take a spoonful of lemon juice and six grains of Salt of Tartar.

270. Bloody Urine.

768. Take twice a-day a pint of decoction of Agrimony,

769. Or, of decoction of Yarrow.

271. Urine by Drops, with Heat and Pain.

770. Drink nothing but lemonade. Tried.

771. Or beat up the pulp of five or six roasted apples with a quart, of water. Take it at lying down. It commonly cures before morning.

272. Involuntary Urine.

772. Use the cold-bath.

773. Or take a tea-spoonful of powdered Agri- mony in a little water, morning and evening.

774. Or a quarter of a pint of Alum-posset drink every night.

775. Or foment with Rose-leaves and Plantain- leaves boiled in smith's forge-water. Then apply plasters of Alum and Armenian-Bole made up with oil and vinegar.

776. Or apply a blister to the os-sacrum. This seldom fails.

273. Sharp Urine.

777. Take two spoonfuls of fresh juice of ground-ivy.

106

274. Suppression of Urine.

778. Is sometimes relieved by bleeding.

779. Or, drink largely of warm lemonade.

780. Or a scruple of nitre every two hours.

781. Or take a spoonful of juice of lemons sweetened with syrup of violets.

782. Or seven grains of Mercurius Dulcis.

275. Uvula Inflamed.^

783. Gargle with a decoction of beaten hemp-

784. Or with a decoction of dandelion.

785. Or touch it frequently with camphorated spirit of wine.

276. Uvula Relaxed.

786. Bruise the veins of a cabbage-leaf, and lay it hot on the crown of the head ; repeat, if needed, in two hours. I never knew it fail.

787. Or gargle with an infusion of mustard- seed.

277. Warts.

788. Rub them daily with a radish.

789. Or with juice of marigold-flowers. It will hardly ever fail.

790. Or water in which sal-ammoniac is dis- solved.

791. Or apply bruised pur slain as a poultice, changing it twice a day. It cures in seven or eight days.

278. Weakness in the Ancles.

792. Hold them in cold water a quarter of an hour morning and evening.

f This is usually called the palate of the mouth.

107

279. A Soft Wen.

793. Wrap leaves of sorrel in a wet paper, and roast them in the embers. Mix it with finely- sifted ashes into a poultice. Apply this warm daily.

Dr Riviere says, " I cured a wen as big as a large fist, thus : I made an instrument of hard wood, like the stone with which painters grind their colours on a marble. With this I rubbed it half an hour twice a day. Then I laid on a sup- purating plaster very hot, which I kept on four or five days. The wen suppurated and was opened. Afterwards all the substance turned into matter, and was evacuated. Thus I have cured many since.

280. The Whites.

794. Live chastely. Feed sparingly. Use exercise constantly. Sleep moderately, but never lying on your back.

795. Take eight grains of jalap every eight days. This usually cures in five weeks.

796. Or, first bleed ; then purge thrice with twenty grains of rhubarb and five of calomel.

797. Or boil four or five leaves of the white holyhock in a pint of milk with a little sugar, then add a tea-spoonful of balm of Gilead. Drink this every morning. It rarely fails.

798. Or make Venice turpentine, flour, and fine sugar, equal quantities, into small pills. Take three or four of these morning and evening. This also cures most pains in the back.

799. Or take yellow resin, powdered, one ounce ; conserve of roses, half an ounce ; powdered rhubarb, three drachms ; syrup, a sufficient quantity to make

108 an eleotuary. Take a large tea-spoonful of this twice a day, in a cup of comfrey-root tea.

800. Or in a quarter of a pint of water wherein three drachms of tamarinds and a drachm of len- tisk-wood have been boiled. When cold, infuse senna, one drachm, coriander-seed and liquorice, a drachm and a half each. Let them stand all night. Strain the liquor in the morning, and drink it daily, two hours before breakfast.

801. Or take quicksilver and aqua sulphurata, as for an asthma. This seldom fails.

281. Whitlow.

802. Apply treacle. Tried.

803. Or honey and flour. Tried.

804. Or a poultice of chewed bread. Shift it once a day.

S05. Or a poultice of powdered pit-coal and warm water.

282. Worms.-f

806. Take two spoonfuls of brandy sweetened with loaf-sugar every morning.

807. Or a spoonful of the juice of lemons ; or two spoonfuls of nettle-juice.

808. Or boil four ounces of quicksilver an hour in a quart of clear water. Pour it off, and bottle it up. You may use the same quicksilver again and again. Use this for common drink ; or at least night and morning, for a week or two. Then purge off the dead worms, with fifteen or twenty grains of jalap.

•f A child may be known to hare the worms, by dull- ness, paleness, hollow eyes, itching of the nose, starting iu sleep, and an unusual stinking breath. Worms are never found in children that live wholly on milk.

109

809. Or take two spoonfuls of worm-seed mixed with treacle, for six mornings.

810. Or one, two, or three drachms of fern-root boiled in mead. This kills both the flat and round worms. Repeat the medicine from time to time.

811. Or give one tea-spoonful of Syrup of Bear's-foot at bed-time, and one or two in the morning, for two or three successive days, to children between two and six years of age ; re- gulating the dose according to the strength of the patient.

812. Syrup of Bear's-foot is made thus : — Sprinkle the green leaves with vinegar, stamp and strain out the juice, and add to it a sufficient quantity of coarse sugar. This is the most power- ful medicine for long round worms.

813. Bruising the green leaves of Bears-foot, and smelling often at them, sometimes expels worms.

814. Or boil half an ounce of Aloes, powdered, with a few sprigs of Rue, Wormivood, and Camo- mile, in half a pint of gall, to the consistency of a plaster ; spread this on thin leather, and apply it to the stomach, changing it every twelve hours for three days ; then take fifteen grains of Jalap, and it will bring vast quantities of worms away, some burst and some alive. This will cure, when no internal medicine avails.

283. Flat Worms.

815. Mix a table- spoonful of Norway-tar in a pint of small beer. Take it as soon as you can in the morning, fasting. This brought away a tape-worm thirty-six feet in length.

K

110

816. Or take from two to five grains of Gamboge, made into a pill or bolus, in the morning fasting, drinking after it a little weak green tea, and like- wise when it begins to operate, till the worm is evacuated. The dose must be regulated accord- ing to the patient's strength, for neither this nor any other medicine given as an alterative is of the least service in this disorder. If the head of the worm be fixed in the upper orifice of the stomach, a smart shock from the electrifying machine will probably dislodge it. Then purge. To prevent worms, avoid drinking stagnated water.

284. Wounds.

817. If you have not any honest surgeon at hand, apply juice or powder of yarrow. I.

818. Or bind leaves of ground-ivy upon it.

819. Or wood-betony bruised. This quickly heals even cut veins and sinews, and draws out thorns or splinters.

820. Or keep the part in cold water for an hour, keeping the wounds closed with your thumb. Then bind on the thin skin of an egg-shell for days or weeks, till it falls off of itself. Regard not, though it prick or shoot for a time.

285. Inward Wounds.

821. Infuse yarrow twelve hours in warm water ; take a cup of this four times a-day.

286. Putrid Wounds.

822. Wash them morning and evening with warm decoction of Agrimony. If they heal too soon, and a matter gathers underneath, apply a poultice of the leaves pounded, changing them once a-day till well.

823. Or apply a carrot poultice ; but if a

Ill

gangrene comes on, apply a wheat flour poultice, (after it has been by the fire till it begins to fer- ment,) nearly cold. It will not fail.

287. Contused or Ulcerated Wounds.

824. Boil half an ounce of fine Verdigris in a pound of linseed oil till it is dissolved.

288. Wounded Tendons.

825. Boil comfrey-roots to a thick mucilage or jelly, and apply this as a poultice, changing it twice a-day.

289. To open a Wound that has closed too soon.

826. Apply bruised Centaury.

RECEIPTS.

Daffy's Elixir. g

Take of best senna, guaiacum, liquorice sliced small, aniseeds, coriander-seeds, and elecampane root, of each half an ounce, raisins-of-the-sun stoned, a quarter of a-pound ; let them all be bruised, and put into a quart of the best brandy. Let it stand by the fire for a few days, then strain it.

Another Receipt for Daffy's Elixir.

Take of senna leaves two ounces ; jalap powder one ounce ; coriander seeds a quarter of an ounce ; proof spirit or brandy three pints. Put all the ingredients into a bottle for four or five days, shaking it frequently. Strain off the tincture, and add three ounces of powdered sugar-candy. This medicine is more active than the preceding, and is calculated to remove obstructions in the bowels, in cholics, and other complaints that re- quire purging, especially when castor-oil has not had the desired effect, - The dose, is one, two, or three table-spoonfuls, in a cup of camomile-tea, or water.

Turlington's Balsam. Take balsam of Peru, and balsam of Tolu, of each half an ounce, gum storax in tears, and gum guaiacum, of each one ounce ; gum benjamin, an ounce and a-half ; hepatic aloes, and frankincense. of each two drachms ; let the gum be bruised,

113

and put all the ingredients into a quart of recti- fied spirits of wine ; shake the bottle frequently, and in eight days it is fit for use.

This is indeed a most excellent medicine for man or beast, or any fresh wound. I know none like it.

Dr James's Powders. Instead of giving half-a-crown a packet for these powders, you may at any druggist's get Dr Hard wick's fever-powder for a shilling an ounce, which if it be not the same, will answer just the same end.

Scotch Pills. Dissolve two ounces of hepatic aloes, with a small spoonful of sweet oil, and as much ivater, in a porringer, over a small fire. When it is of $> proper consistence, make it into pills, with or without liquorice powder.

Emetic Tartar Vomit.

Dissolve four grains of emetic tartar, in half a pint of hot water. Stir it about well. When it is cold, it is fit for use. Take two table-spoonfuls every quarter of an hour till it operates, after which no more of the vomit must be taken. Drink a small cup of gruel, or weak camomile tea, after every puke, to work it off. A pint, or a pint and a half of gruel and tea is generally sufficient. To settle the stomach, drink weak brandy and water, and lie down half an hour.

One table-spoonful of the emetic tartar water, every quarter of an hour till it pukes, is sufficient for weaklv people. While others again require

k.3

114

four times as much. A child of a mouth old may takeasmall tea-spoonful every quarter of an hour: one of three month old will require two tea-spoon- fuls ; and so on, in proportion to their age and strength. Children require nothing to work off a vomit ; and a pint or a pint and a-half of gruel, or camomile tea, is sufficient for adults. It is an absurd and pernicious practice to drink pint after pint of hot liquids to work off a vomit : it fre- quently leaves a very great relaxation of the stomach, which does not recover its tone for some months afterwards.

The design of giving the vomit in the manner above described, is in order that it may work in the most gentle manner possible. If it operates two, three, or four times, it is sufficient. Violent vomits are often attended with dangerous conse- quences ; whereas, gentle ones may be repeated two or three times a-week, if necessary.

If a vomit works too violently, drink moderately of weak brandy and water, and apply a raw onion cut in two to the pit of the stomach.

The best time for taking a vomit is in the morn- ing fasting. But in cases where no time is to be lost, it may be taken at eleven o'clock, or in the evening.

Persons who are costive, should not venture upon a vomit, till the costiveness is removed, which must be done in an hour or two's time by a clyster, or a small dose of jalap powder, or any other opening medicine.

In consumptive cases, and in the dysentery cases, Ipecacuanha is the properest vomit. The Emetic Tartar is best calculated for removing acidity, bile, and putrid matter from the stomach.

115

In the beginning of some nervous and putrid fevers, where the pulse is weak, and the stomach loaded with sour, foetid, yellow, or green matter, there is perhaps no medicine equal to it. The heaviness, listlessness, pains in the loins, and headach, are generally removed before next mor- ning.

Emetic Tartar, when it is prescribed with judge- ment, and taken properly, is one of the best medi- cines known at this day. I have given it to many thousand patients with the utmost safety, and with the greatest advantage. I prefer it in every case to James's fever-powder, though a medicine composed of the same materials. The operations of Emetic Tartar may be directed to the stomach, the bowels, or the skin, as the case requires.

Some of the quack-doctors mix powdered ginger with Emetic Tartar, and call it the ginger vomit. I do not know that this is any injury to the medi- cine. But some of the low country druggists a- dulterate it with chalk or magnesia ; these articles are only hurtful by preventing the purchasers knowing exactly the quantity they ought to take. It is therefore necessary to apply to apothecaries or druggists on whose veracity you can depend. An Excellent Eye-Water.

Take flowers of zinc and white copperas, of each a quarter of an ounce, water half a pint, mix them together. It is used in the same manner as the white copperas eye-water, page 55 ; but in most cases it is greatly preferable, particularly in the inflammations of the eyelids, and any external or internal excoriation. If it be too sharp, add a little more water to it.

116

COLD BATHING- cures young children oi

Convulsions

Coughs

Cutaneous inflamma- tions, pimples., and scabs

Gravel

Inflammations of the ears, navel, and mouth Rickets

Suppression of urine Vomiting Want of sleep.

It prevents the growth of hereditary

Apoplexies Gout

Asthmas King's-Evil

Blindness Melancholy

Consumptions Palsies

Deafness Rheumatism

Deliria Stone.

It frequently cures every nervous, + and every pa- ralytic disorder : in particular,

The Asthma

Ague of every sort

Atrophy

Blindness*

Cancer

Ghin-Cough

Coagulated blood after

bruises Consumptions Convulsions Coughs

Complication of distem- pers Convulsive pains* Deafness* Dropsy Epilepsy Violent fevers Gout (running) Hectic Fevers Hemicrania Hysteric pains*

f And this, I apprehend, accounts for its frequently curing the bite of a mad dog; especially if it >»e repeated for twentv-fire or thirtv dais successively.

117

Incubus

Inflammations* Involuntary stool, or

urine* Lameness Leprosy (old) Lethargy Loss of appetite, smell,*

speech,* taste Nephritic pains Palpitation of the heart Pain in the back, joints,*

stomach* Rheumatisms Rupture Suffocations

Sciatica*

Surfeits (at the begin- ning)

Scorbutic pains*

Swelling on the joints

Stone in the kidneys

Torpor of the limbs, even when the use of them is lost

Tetanus

Tympany

Vertigo

St Vitus's-dance

Vigilia

Varicose ulcers

The Whites.

But in all cases where the nerves are obstructed, (such as are those marked thus *) you should go to bed immediately after, and sweat.

It is often useful to use the Hot Bath a few days, before you use the Cold Bath.

Wise parents should dip their children in cold water every morning, till they are three-quarters old ; and afterwards, their hands and feet.

N.B. — No child should ever be swathed tight. It lays the foundation for many diseases. — It is best to wean a child at about seven months old. They should lie in the cradle at least a year. No wise parent should suffer a child to drink any tea; (at least till it is ten or twelve years old) or to eat much spice or sugar. Milk, milk-porridge, and water-gruel, are the proper breakfasts for children.

Washing the head every morning in cold water, prevents rheums, and cures coughs, old headachs, and sore eyes.

118 Water drinking, generally prevents

Apoplexies

Madness

Asthmas

Palsies

Convulsions

Stone

Gout

Trembling

Hysteric fits

To this children should be bred up from their cradles.

The best water to drink, especially for those who are much troubled with the wind, is rain water. After it has settled, draw it off clear into another vessel, and it will keep sweet for a long time.

ELECTRIFYING in

St Anthony's fire

Blindness

Blood extravated

Bronchocele

Burns or Scalds

Coldness in the feet

Contraction of the limbs

Convulsions

Cramp

Deafness

Falling sickness

Feet violently disordered

Felons

Fistula Lachrvmalis

Fits

Flooding

Ganglions

Gout

Headach

lmposthumes

a proper manner, cures Inflammations King's-evil Knots in the flesh Lameness Wasting

Weakness of the legs Locked jaws or joints Leprosy

Menstrual obstructions Pain in the stomach Palpitation of t lie heart Palsy

Rheumatism Ringworm Sciatica Shingles Sinews shrunk Stiff joints

Sprain, Surfeit

however old

119 Swellings of all sorts Ulcers

Throat sore Wens

Toothach

Nor have I yet known one single instance, wherein it has done harm. So that I cannot but doubt the veracity of those who have affirmed the contrary. Dr De Haen positively affirms, "it can do no hurt in any case ;" that is, unless the shock were immoderately strong.

FASTING SPITTLE, outwardly applied every morning, has sometimes relieved and some- times cured

Blindness

Contracted sinews, from a cut

Corns, (mixed with chewed bread, and ap- plied every morning

Cuts (fresh)

Taken inwardly, it relieves or cures Asthmas i Leprosy

Deafness

Eye-lids, red and in- flamed Scorbutic tetters Sore legs Warts

Cancers j Palsy

Falling sickness | Rheumatism

Gout | Scurvy

Gravel Stone

King's-evil I Swelled liver.

The best way is, to eat about an ounce of hard bread, or sea-biscuit, every morning : fasting two or three hours after. This should be done, in stubborn cases, for a month or six weeks.

END.