stand when he appeareth? But how agreeably are our fears disappointed in what follows! If he comes to take vengeance on his enemies, he also comes to show mercy to the meanest of his people. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd, he shall gather the lambs with his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young: Isa. xi. 10, 11, that is, he shall exercise the tenderest and most compassionate care towards the meanest and weakest of his flock. He looked

down, says the Psalmist, from the height of his sanctuary ; from heaven did the Lord behold the earth; not to view the grandeur and pride of courts and kings, nor the heroic exploits of conquerors, but to hear the groaning of the prisoner, to loose those that are appointed to die. He will regard the prayer of the destitute, and not despise their prayer. This shall be written for the generation to come. Psalm cii. 17-20. It was written for your encouragement, my brethren. Above three thousand years ago, this encouraging passage was entered into the sacred records for the support of poor desponding souls in Virginia, in the ends of the earth. O what an early provident care does God show for his people! There are none of the seven churches of Asia so highly commended by Christ as that of Philadelphia; and yet in commending her, all he can say is, "Thou hast a little strength." I know thy works; behold I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it, for thou hast a little strength. Rev. iii. 8. O how acceptable is a little strength to Jesus Christ, and how ready is he to improve it. He giveth power to the faint, says Isaiah, and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Isa. xi. 29. Hear farther what words of grace and truth flowed from the lips of Jesus. Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest: for I am meek and lowly in heart, Matt. xi. 28, 29. Him that cometh unto me, I will in nowise cast out. John vi. 57. If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink. John vii. 37. Let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him come and take of the water of life freely. Rev. xxii. 17. O what strong consolation is here! what exceeding great and precious promises are these! I might easily add to the catalogue, but these may suffice.

Let us now see how his people in every age have ever

found these promises made good. Here David may be consulted instar omnium, and he will tell you, pointing to himself, This poor man cried, and the Lord heard and delivered him out of all his troubles. Psalm xxxiv. 6. St. Paul, in the midst of affliction, calls God the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulation. 2 Cor. i. 3, 4. God, says he, that comforteth those that are cast down, comforteth us. 2 Cor. vii. 6. What a sweetly emphatic declaration is this! God, the comforter of the humble, comforted us.' He is not only the Lord of hosts, the King of kings, the Creator of the world, but among his more august characters he assumes this title, the Comforter of "the humble." Such St. Paul found him in an hour of temptation, when he had this supporting answer to his repeated prayer for deliverance, My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness. 2 Cor. xii. 9. Since this was the case, since his weakness was more than supplied by the strength of Christ, and was a foil to set it off, St. Paul seems quite regardless what infirmities he labored under. Nay, most gladly, says he, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities for when I am weak, then am I strong. He could take no pleasure in feeling himself weak: but the mortification was made up by the pleasure he found in leaning upon this almighty support. His wounds were painful to him: but, oh! the pleasure he found in feeling the divine physician dressing his wounds, in some measure swallowed up the pain. It was probably experience, as well as inspiration, that dictated to the apostle that amiable character of Christ, that he is a "merciful and faithful high-priest, who, being himself tempted, knows how to succor them that are tempted." Heb ii. 17, 18. And "we have not a high-priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." Heb. iv. 15.

But why need I multiply arguments? Go to his cross, and there learn his love and compassion, from his

This is the most literal translation of- -5 παρακαλῶν τους ταπειους παρεκάλεσεν ἡμᾶς ὁ Θεός.

groans and wounds, and blood, and death. Would he hang there in such agony for sinners if he were not willing to save them, and cherish every good principle in them? There you may have much the same evidence of his compassion as Thomas had of his resurrection; you may look into his hands, and see the print of the nails; and into his side, and see the scar of the spear; which loudly proclaims his readiness to pity and help you.

And now, poor, trembling, doubting souls, what hinders but you should rise up your drooping head, and take courage? May you not venture your souls into such compassionate and faithful hands? Why should the bruised reed shrink from him, when he comes not to tread it down, but raise it up?

As I am really solicitous that impenitent hearts among us should be pierced with the medicinal anguish and sorrow of conviction and repentance, and the most friendly heart cannot form a kinder wish for them, so I am truly solicitous that every honest soul, in which there is the least spark of true piety, should enjoy the pleasure of it. It is indeed to be lamented that they who have a title to so much happiness should enjoy so little of it; it is very incongruous that they should go bowing the head in their way towards heaven, as if they were hastening to the place of execution, and that they should serve so good a master with such heavy hearts. O lift up the hands that hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees! "Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, saith your God. Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." Trust in your all-sufficient Redeemer; trust in him though he should slay you.

And do not indulge causeless doubts and fears concerning your sincerity. When they arise in your minds, examine them, and search whether there be any sufficient reason for them; and if you discover there is not, then reject them and set them at defiance, and entertain your hopes in spite of them, and say with the Psalmist, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, the health of my countenance, and my God." Psalm xliii. 11.

SERMON IX.

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PRESENT HOLINESS AND FUTURE FELICITY.

Heb. xii. 14. Follow-holiness; without which no man shall see the Lord.

As the human soul was originally designed for the enjoyment of no less a portion than the ever-blessed God, it was formed with a strong innate tendency towards happiness. It has not only an eager fondness for existence, but for some good to render its existence happy. And the privation of being itself is not more terrible than the privation of all its blessings. It is true, in the present degeneracy of human nature, this vehement desire is miserably perverted and misplaced: man seeks his supreme happiness in sinful, or at best in created enjoyments, forgetful of the uncreated fountain of bliss; but yet still he seeks happiness: still this innate impetus is predominant, and though he mistakes the means, yet he still retains a general aim at the end. Hence he ransacks this lower world in quest of felicity; climbs in seach of it the slippery ascent of honor; hunts for it in the treasures of gold and silver; or plunges for it in the foul streams of sensual pleasures. But since all the sordid satisfaction resulting from these things is not adequate to the unbounded cravings of the mind, and since the satisfaction is transitory and perishing, or we may be wrenched from it by the inexorable hand of death, the mind breaks through the limits of the present enjoyments, and even of the lower creation, and ranges through the unknown scenes of futurity in quest of some untried good. Hope makes excursions into the dark duration between the present now and the grave, and forms to itself pleasing images of approaching blessings, which often vanish in the embrace, like delusive phantoms. Nay, it launches into the vast unknown world that lies beyond the grave, and roves through the regions of immensity after some complete felicity to supply the defects of sublunary enjoyments. Hence, though men, till their spirits are refined by regenera

grace, have no relish for celestial joys, but pant for the poor pleasures of time and sense, yet as they cannot avoid the unwelcome consciousness that death will ere long rend them from these sordid and momentary enjoyments, are constrained to indulge the hope of bliss in a future state and they promise themselves happiness in another world when they can no longer enjoy any in this. And as reason and revelation unitedly assure them that this felicity cannot consist in sensual indulgences, they generally expect it will be of a more refined and spiritual nature, and flow more immediately from the great Father of spirits.

He must indeed be miserable that abandons all hope of this blessedness. The Christian religion affords him no other prospect but that of eternal, intolerable misery in the regions of darkness and despair; and if he flies to infidelity as a refuge, it can afford him no comfort but the shocking prospect of annihilation.

Now, if men were pressed into heaven by an unavoidable fatality, if happiness was promiscuously promised to them all without distinction of characters, then they might indulge a blind unexamined hope, and never perplex themselves with anxious inquiries about it. And he might justly be deemed a malignant disturber of the repose of mankind, that would attempt to shock their hope, and frighten them with causeless scruples.

But if the light of nature intimates, and the voice of Scripture proclaims aloud, that this eternal felicity is reserved only for persons of particular characters, and that multitudes, multitudes who entertained pleasing hopes of it, are confounded with an eternal disappointment, and shall suffer an endless duration in the most terrible miseries, we ought each of us to take the alarm, and examine the grounds of our hope, that, if they appear sufficient, we may allow ourselves a rational satisfaction in them; and if they are found delusive, we may abandon them, and seek for a hope which will bear the test now while it may be obtained. And however disagreeable the task be to give our fellow-creatures even profitable uneasiness, yet he must appear to the impartial a friend to the best interests of mankind, who points out the evidences and foundation of a rational and scrip