Chapter 10

We have now set before you, what we conceive to be the _principal cause_ leading to _intemperance, dishonesty, and crime_. True, there may be some exceptions to this, but we are conscious, that it is the conduct of those very men, who are declaiming against _intemperance and crime_, that first drives their fellow creatures into those deplorable haunts of vice. They do this _indirectly_, and perhaps _innocently_. They do it by giving too much reputation and influence to the wealthy class of the community, by paying too much homage and respect to gold, and by withholding, from the virtuous poor, that respect which their conduct merits. We cannot set this truth before you in a more forcible light, than by relating, from memory, an anecdote of Dr. Franklin, with which we will conclude. The rich merchants and professional men in Philadelphia proposed to form themselves into a social circle from which all _mechanics_ were to be excluded. The paper, drawn up for the purpose, was presented to Dr. Franklin for his signature. On examining its contents, he remarked that he could not consent to unite his name inasmuch as by excluding mechanics from their circle, they had excluded God Almighty, who was the greatest mechanic in the universe!

SERMON XVII

"And be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians iv. 32.

A tender heart is the kind boon of heaven, and forgiveness is a virtue too little exercised in the common intercourse of life. Men are too apt to be in character Pharisees. They are too apt to love those that love them, and hate their enemies. Retaliation is inconsistent with the spirit of the gospel, and is a vice deeply to be stigmatized and deprecated by all lovers of peace and morality. By retaliation, we are to understand the injuring of another because he has injured us. This spirit of revenge betrays a contracted mind in which the feelings of compassion and forbearance never found a permanent abode. A man of a peevish, irritable and revengeful temperament, is to be pitied, instead of being injured in return. By retaliating the evil he may have done, you involve yourself in the same condition of meanness, and in your turn become the injurer.

All those men, whose names are rendered illustrious and immortal, have been distinguished for a spirit of forbearance, kindness and mercy. Were there no examples of rashness--no failings and imperfections among men, there would, then, be no opportunity to distinguish ourselves by a spirit of forgiveness. God has so constituted the present existence of his creatures, that the perfections of his divine character might be manifested to them in the unchanging exercise of his paternal compassion and forgiveness; and thus afford them an opportunity to imitate himself in the exercise of those exalted feelings, which emanate from heaven.

We are not, however, to understand that tenderness of heart and forgiveness are to be exercised to the utter exclusion of the principles of honor and justice. If our children offend, or our dearest earthly friend do wrong, we are to manifest the feelings of tenderness and forgiveness, but these ought not to induce us to overlook their crimes or faults, by remaining silent in regard to their vices. This would be suffering our compassion to degenerate into weakness. It would in fact be hardness of heart. It would betray a spirit of indifference to their dearest interest, as by our silence, they might remain in blindness to the demerit of their deeds, and hurry on to the ruin of their reputation, and consequently, of their earthly happiness. True tenderness of heart makes us watchful over the conduct of those we love, and with whom we are connected in life-- moves us to lay naked before them their faults, so that they may early correct them, and thus inspires their hearts with tenderness, and prompts them to regard the happiness, feelings and welfare of others. It is immaterial how near and dear your friend may be, you should, by the feelings of mercy, be induced to tell him his faults, however much it may wound his heart. The wise man says "the wounds of a friend are faithful; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." Too many parents, for want of determination of character, and for suffering their compassion to degenerate into weakness and remaining blind to the faults of their children, having seen them come to some disgraceful end--a state prison, or even the gallows. This, instead of being true tenderness of heart, was infatuation and the worst species of hardness and insensibility to the welfare of their offspring. On the other hand, we ought never to suffer a spirit of revengeful indignation to slumber in our bosoms, ready on every trivial occasion to awake into resentment and retaliation. In fine, we ought to imitate our God in feelings and conduct towards each other, as it is expressed in our text. But many suppose that God is filled with feelings of revengeful indignation towards his creatures, and that the period is rolling on when he will cease to be merciful, and will commence torturing us in the future world for the sins committed in this, and that too, when punishment can do no good to the sufferer--when reformation will be out of his reach. To torment a frail dependent creature, under such circumstances, would be the most degrading species of revenge. And if this is the conduct of God, then we must practice the same, because we are commanded to imitate him. Our text says--"Be yea kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another; even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."

In this passage, our Father in heaven is held up to the world as the model of _kindness tenderness and forgiveness_, that mortals are to imitate. God is the moral standard to which every bosom ought to aspire. The highest perfection and loveliness of man fall infinitely short of the intrinsic loveliness and divine perfection's of Jehovah.

If he is the standard of moral excellence which we are to imitate, then we must admit that the copy far exceeds the imitation. If man is called upon to act like God in order to improve his character and affections, then God is better than man, and every opposing objection must, forever, fall to the ground. Perhaps it may be said, that all denominations of men allow him to be so. This is not correct. It is true, they _say this_ in so many words. But words are one thing, and what a doctrine involves is quite _another_. I might believe, and most rigidly maintain, that an earthly father had prepared a palace of comfort for his five _obedient_ children, and a furnace of fire to torture his five _disobedient_ children; and suppose he had dealt with his ten children as above stated;--with what propriety could I step before the public, and contend that he was the best man in America? Even were I persuaded, in my own mind, and firmly believed him to be the best man in existence, would either my _belief or acknowledgment_ make it a fact? No; every man of common sense, and common humanity would think me deranged. My saying that he was good, and even believing him so, could not alter the awful reality, but would be an evidence of my want of consistency and propriety. He would still be a bad unfeeling man, and in no comparative sense so good as that father, who should punish his children in mercy, and for their future amendment and benefit.

But what is all this compared with the character that thousands ascribe to the God, who rules above? It is no more than the drop to the unmeasured ocean: because those five children would soon cease to suffer; but God, they contend, will torture without mercy or end, millions on millions of his poor dependent creatures for the sins of a short life! The most abandoned, and unrelenting savage, that roams the American forest--the worst wretch in human form would not do this, but release, at length, the sufferer from pain. And those, who contend that God will not release, but on the contrary involve the victim of his ire deeper in who, attribute to him a character infinitely worse, than the most cruel and degraded of our race, and no argument, to the contrary, can be for one moment maintained. If a man desire the holiness and happiness of all his fellow creatures, and would bring them to a glorified state of beatitude in heaven, had he the power, and still contends that God will not, it is elevating his goodness far above the goodness of God. And for any man to come forward with this acknowledgment on his lips, and yet address the benignant Parent of all, and, in prayer, acknowledge him to be the best of all beings, is only using words without propriety or meaning. There is no sense, no reason in such logic. It completely contradicts itself, and what is contradictory cannot be true.

Would you save all men from sin and its attendant misery if you could? O yes, is the answer, I would, and carry them all in the arms of unbounded benevolence to glory. Well, has God the power to do it? Yes, is the reply. But do you believe that he will exert his power so as to accomplish it? No says the objector, I believe that he will sentence a large portion of his erring offspring to endless and inconceivable wo. Very well; then you are the best being of the two. And it is a melancholy circumstance to these unfortunate beings, that you are not on the throne of the universe. If this be so, then our text ought to be reversed. God ought to copy your tenderness, and forgive men as you do! We are certainly called upon to conform our conduct to the best standard, and to imitate the _best_ being. If you are the _best_, then God and man ought to be called upon, and _entreated_ to imitate you! No; says the objector, God is superlatively the best being in the universe. You may talk, and tell me so, till the morning sun sinks beyond the western hills, and yet your _creed_ will contradict every word you utter. What you have just acknowledged, unchangeably stares you in the face. You say, that you would forgive all, save them from sin, and raise them to a blessed eternity, if you had the power. This power, you say, God possesses, and yet you _believe_, and that he will not do it. It is certainly an unfortunate circumstance to the human family, if their Father in heaven is destitute of that goodness which you feel! From whom did you receive all those compassionate feelings of heart? Why says the objector, God gave them to me. But how can God give you what he has not himself? If you possess more benevolence than God, you could not have received it from him; because on this principal he did not have it in possession to give. Surely he could not communicate to you, or any other being, what he did not originally possess. From what source, then, did you derive so much tenderness and love? There must, certainly, be some being in the universe in whose bosom is rooted as much benevolence and love as you feel, or how could it have been communicated to you from another? Now, where did you get it? God gave it to me, says the objector. This cannot be, because your doctrine proves, that you have more love than the God who made you! If you insist that he has given it to you, has he not in such case, given you more than he originally possessed? He has. If so, endless misery may be true; for on this principle he has none left!

The scriptures teach that "God is love"; and all his works speak the same language--saying, "the Lord is good, and his mercies endure forever." But how good is he? The doctrine of endless wrath says, he is not as good as you. You are but a small stream from an infinite ocean of love; and yet this little stream is greater than the ocean from which it issues, and rises far above its fountain head! Can this be true? Impossible. O, do you not perceive how your own feelings, which you daily experience, contradict your creed! You feel, desire, and pray for the salvation of all men, and if you had the power, all your feelings, prayers and desires would be carried into execution. And yet your doctrine denies, that God, the fountain, in which all your affections originate and live, will do it;--and at the same time you say, that you have no love only what he gave you! What inconsistencies, contradictions and blindness are here! Man, a small drop, from the benevolent fountain God, is willing to do, what the source from whence he came is unwilling to do! Then a drop of love, in the human bosom, is more tender and benevolent than an ocean in the God, who placed it there!

We all know, that the fountain must be more extensive than the stream it sends forth--yea, larger, than all its running streams put together. This we know to be correct, as well as we know, that the sun enlightens the world. Let us then collect these little streams into one. Bring, if you please, into one body, the love and benevolence of men and angels, of cherubim and seraphim--stretch your thoughts to unnumbered worlds, extract the love from countless bosoms, and condense the whole into one being. How great, lovely, and adorable, would that creature be! Then, let the question be put to him--from whence did you derive all those noble qualities of love, mercy and goodness? He replies, _from my Father God_! Now, we must grant, that God far exceeds him in goodness, because this noble creature is but an emanation from him--and the good desires of this creature would be equal to the good desires of the countless millions of men and angels in all worlds; and could have no other intentions only those, which goodness and mercy dictate--and goodness itself can do nothing contrary to its own nature, any more than ice can burn or fire freeze. This creature would desire the happiness of all; and yet even he is but a small rivulet flowing from the crystal fountain of life and being! This creature would institute a government _perfectly merciful_; and mercy would, of course, require, that the _disobedient_ should be punished to bring them to _obedience_, and perfect them in the same state of glorification and love with that being itself.

"God is _love_," and it, therefore, follows that he is _love_ to every creature he has made, and it is utterly impossible that he can do any thing contrary to his own nature. "He cannot deny himself." He will, therefore, do all that love dictates. It is consistent with parental love to punish for the good of its offspring, but not to punish unmercifully. But inquires the objector, does God punish for the good of his creatures? We will let Paul settle this question--Heb. Xii. Chap. "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. But if ye be without chastisement, whereof _all_ are partakers, then are ye bastards and not sons. Furthermore, we have had fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the Father of spirits and live? For they verily for a few days chastened us after their own pleasure, but he for our profit that we might be partakers of his holiness. Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceably fruit of righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby." Now show us, if you can, any punishment which God inflicts, that contradicts his paternal goodness. It cannot be done. He has threatened and inflicted _everlasting punishment_ upon nations, as such, but not a solitary passage can be produced from Genesis to Revelations, where he has threatened any individual with _everlasting_ punishment.

God is the adorable fountain of all tenderness, love, and compassion, and no mother's son was imbued in the fount of mercy like his, who was "the brightness of his glory and the express image of his perfections." True, her yearnings over the babe of her bosom are great; still they bear but little comparison to him who breathed those feelings there. God compares himself to the mother. "Can a woman forget her sucking child"? Woman, being of a more delicate formation than man, possesses a mind susceptible of more fine, deep, and lasting impressions than his. The affections of her soul, when fully roused into action, and fixed upon their object, are deeper than those of man, extend far beyond the compass line of his, and nobly range those sequestered haunts--those delightful fields of mental felicity, where his finest affections never penetrated. Let her heart once become fixed upon its darling object, and it is immaterial in what situation in life we contemplate her--whether prosperous or adverse, we behold the same unshaken constancy, the same bright and burning flame. Her love to her children is pure as the dew-drops of the morning, high as the heavens and unchanging as the sun. It scorns dictation, bids defiance to oppression, and never for one moment loses sight of its object. No disappointments that cross her path, no scenes of adverse fortune that darken her sky, can wrench it from her grasp, obscure it from her vision, or tear assunder the silken cord that binds it to her heart.

The truth of these remarks we see verified in that unwearied watchfulness and care, which she exercises over her children in supplying their countless, and ever varied little wants; in allaying their little griefs, in soothing their tender hearts by the soft whispers of encouragement and love; in hushing them to repose and in watching over the slumbers of their pillow. Are her children exposed to danger, and full in her view? Then no devouring flame, that wraps her dwelling in destruction--no rolling surges that lash the foaming main, can, in such a moment of peril, over-awe her spirit, or deter her from rushing into the very jaws of death to save them. Are they sick? Sleepless she sits beside their bed, and watches every breath they draw. Are they racked with pain? Her soul inhales the pang; and freely drinks at the same fount of agony, and breathes over them the prayer of mercy. Love is that _attribute_ in her nature to which all the _others_ are subservient. It is the _shrine_ at which they all bow, the _centre_ to which they all gravitate. If her children do wrong, she freely forgives.

Has God given the mother all these noble affections, and does he feel less to his helpless, sinful and erring children? Let God answer--"Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will not I forget thee."

[Concluded in our next.]

SERMON XVIII

"And be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians iv. 32.

In our last, we showed that that compassion, tenderness, and love of our Father in heaven, are the origin of all the sublime affections in the human bosom, and from this acknowledged fact, have shown that he is infinitely more regardful of the welfare of his offspring than the tender mother, with whom he compares himself; is of the welfare of her sucking child. We now resume the subject.

In our text, we are called upon to forgive one another, as God has forgiven us. In examining this point, we are to be guided by what he has revealed. The question here arises, how many does God command us to forgive? He commands us to forgive _all_, even our enemies. This then must be forgiving them as he does. He therefore forgives all. He commands us to bless them that curse us, and to pray for them that despitefully use us, and persecute us, that we may be the children of our Father in heaven. Does God command us to do more than he is willing to do himself? No, he lives up to his own command. If God requires us to forgive, even as he does, and then commands us to love and forgive _all_, then he loves, and forgives _all_, otherwise he would violate his own command; and then there would be no resemblance between his forgiveness and ours. Even as God, for Christ's sake hath forgiven you, so ought ye also to forgive one another.

Would you forgive all, and bring them home to glory? Yes. Will God? No, says the objector, he will not forgive his enemies, but his friends only. Then you must not forgive all. Do you ask why not? Because you are to forgive, _even_ as God. He is the standard you are to imitate. If you forgive more than God, you are better than he. He cannot command you to do different from himself. If God requires you to love and forgive _all_, while he himself will forgive only a part, then God acts contrary to his own command. We are exhorted in the text _to be kind, tender-hearted and forgiving even as he is_. Do your kindness, tenderness, and forgiveness extend to all, and desire the happiness of the universe? Yes. Then also does that of God, or else you are, in every sense of the word, better than he. You differ from, instead of imitating God. If so, you are doing wrong, because you are violating the text. He commands you to be kind, tender, and forgiving _only as he is_;--and you contend that his kindness, tenderness and forgiveness, extend to a part only, and that all the rest he will torture world without end.

But, says the objector, God is now kind, tender, forgiving, and merciful to all; but he will not be so, when they enter eternity, for "the doors of mercy will then be shut." How do you know that--who told you so? Will God change in some future day? If he change, he will not be the same being, he is now. I thought, he was the same yesterday, today, and forever, without variableness or even the shadow of turning. I thought he was the same Jehovah in all worlds. Do you intend to make him kind, tender, and forgiving _here_, but unkind, unforgiving, and hard-hearted to a part of his offspring _hereafter_? If you intend to change both the nature and character of the Almighty in the future world, then you and myself are done arguing. That doctrine is, certainly in a pitiful condition, which drives its advocate to the necessity of changing the Almighty wholly into another being to support it. "God so loved the world, even when dead in trespasses and sins," as to deliver up his Son to "taste death for every man." And being unchangeable, he could never hate them. In our text, God commands us to forgive as he has forgiven. How many does God forgive? Ans. As many as he commands you to forgive. How many is that? _All, even your enemies--to bless and curse not_.

We will now introduce the question--If God has not forgiven a man today, will he ever forgive him? I answer no, for he is unchangeable. We are to apt to think that our Creator is altogether such an one as ourselves--that he loves one day, and hates the next--that he is in reality angry one hour, and pleased the next--or that he holds a grudge one moment and forgives the next, if we will only ask him to do so. But all such ideas are calculated for children--for babes in Christ. The scriptures come down to the weakest capacity; but this is no reason we should always continue children, but rise in knowledge to the strength of manhood. We ought not to be "ever learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth." Paul said to his brethren "when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you" &c. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things."