it does not fence off from the wilderness of this world, a mystic
enclosure, within which the ills of life never intrude. No; these
things happen to all alike; but how small a portion of human
wretchedness flows from these sources, compared with that which
arises from the dispositions of the heart. 'The mind is its own
place, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.' Men carry the
springs of their happiness or misery in their own bosom. Hence it is
said of the wicked, 'that they are like the troubled sea which
cannot rest, which is never at peace, but continually casting up
mire and dirt.' In contrast with which, it is affirmed that 'the
work of righteousness is peace; and that the good man shall be
satisfied from himself.' Would you behold the misery entailed by
_pride_, look at Haman; by _covetousness_, look at Ahab; by
_malice_, look at Cain; by _profaneness_ and _sensuality_, united
with the forebodings of a guilty conscience, look at Belshazzar; by
_envy_, and a consciousness of being rejected of God, look at Saul;
by _revenge_, look at Herodias writhing beneath the accusations of
John, and thirsting for his blood; by _apostasy_, look at Judas.
Religion would have prevented all this, and it will prevent similar
misery in you. Hearken to the confessions of the outcast in the land
of his banishment; of the felon in his irons, and in his dungeon; of
the prostitute expiring upon her bed of straw; of the malefactor at
the gallows--'Wretched creature that I am, abhorred of men, accursed
of God! To what have my crimes brought me!' Religion prevents all
this: all that wretchedness which is the result of crime, is cut off
by the influence of genuine piety. Misery prevented is happiness
gained.
"4. Consider the consolations it imparts.
"Our world has been called, in the language of poetry, a vale of
tears, and human life a bubble, raised from those tears, and
inflated by sighs, which, after floating a little while, decked with
a few gaudy colors, is touched by the hand of death, and dissolves.
Poverty, disease, misfortune, unkindness, inconstancy, death, all
assail the travellers as they journey onward to eternity through
this gloomy valley; and what is to comfort them but _religion_?
"The consolations of religion are neither few nor small; they arise
in part from those things which we have already mentioned in this
chapter; _i.e._ from the exercise of the understanding on the
revealed truths of God's word, from the impulses of the spiritual
life within us, and from a reflection upon our spiritual privileges;
but there are some others, which, though partially implied in these
things, deserve a special enumeration and distinct consideration.
"_A good conscience_, which the wise man says is a perpetual feast,
sustains a high place amongst the comforts of genuine piety. It is
unquestionably true, that a man's happiness is in the keeping of his
conscience; all the sources of his felicity are under the command of
this faculty. 'A wounded spirit who can bear?' A troubled conscience
converts a paradise into a hell, for it is the flame of hell kindled
on earth; but a quiet conscience would illuminate the horrors of the
deepest dungeon with the beams of heavenly day; the former has often
rendered men like tormented fiends amidst an elysium of delights,
while the latter has taught the songs of cherubim to martyrs in the
prison or the flames.
"In addition to this, religion comforts the mind, with the assurance
of an all-wise, all-pervading Providence, so minute in its
superintendence and control, that not a sparrow falls to the ground
without the knowledge of our heavenly Father: a superintendence
which is excluded from no point of space, no moment of time, and
overlooks not the meanest creature in existence. Nor is this all;
for the Word of God assures the believer that 'all things work
together for good to them that love God, who are the called
according to his purpose.' Nothing that imagination could conceive,
is more truly consolatory than this, to be assured that all things,
however painful at the time, not excepting the failure of our
favorite schemes, the disappointment of our fondest hopes, the loss
of our dearest comforts, shall be overruled by infinite wisdom for
the promotion of our ultimate good. This is a spring of comfort
whose waters never fail.
"Religion consoles also by making manifest some of the benefits of
affliction, even at the time it is endured. It crucifies the world,
mortifies sin, quickens prayer, extracts the balmy sweets of the
promises, endears the Saviour; and, to crown all, it directs the
mind to that glorious state, where the days of our mourning shall be
ended: that happy country where God shall wipe every tear from our
eyes, and there shall be no more sorrow or crying. Nothing so
composes the mind, and helps it to bear the load of trouble which
God may lay upon it, as the near prospect of its termination.
Religion shows the weather-beaten mariner the haven of eternal
repose, where no storms arise, and the sea is ever calm; it exhibits
to the weary traveller the city of habitation, within whose walls he
will find a pleasant home, rest from his labors, and friends to
welcome his arrival; it discloses to the wounded warrior his native
country, where the alarms of war, and the dangers of conflict, will
be no more encountered, but undisturbed peace forever reign. In that
one word, HEAVEN, religion provides a balm for every wound, a
cordial for every care.
"Here, then, is the pleasure of that wisdom which is from above; it
is not only enjoyed in prosperity but continues to refresh us, and
most powerfully to refresh us, in adversity; a remark which will not
apply to any other kind of pleasure."[12]
[Footnote 12: Christian Father's Present.]
* * * * *
"In many persons, a seriousness and sense of awe overspread the
imagination, whenever the idea of the Supreme Being is presented to
their thoughts. This effect, which forms a considerable security
against vice, is the consequence not so much of reflection as of
habit; which habit being generated by the external expressions of
reverence which we use ourselves, or observe in others, may be
destroyed by causes opposite to these, and especially by that
familiar levity with which some learn to speak of the Deity, of his
attributes, providence, revelations or worship.
"God hath been pleased (no matter for what reason, although probably
for this,) to forbid the vain mention of his name:--'Thou shalt not
take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.' Now the mention is
_vain_ when it is useless; and it is useless when it is neither
likely nor intended to serve any good purpose; as when it flows
from the lips idle and unmeaning, or is applied, on occasions
inconsistent with any consideration of religion and devotion, to
express our anger, our earnestness, our courage, or our mirth; or
indeed when it is used at all, except in acts of religion, or in
serious and seasonable discourse upon religious subjects.
"The prohibition of the third commandment is recognized by Christ
in his sermon upon the mount; which sermon adverts to none but the
moral parts of the Jewish law: 'I say unto you, swear not at all:
but let your communication be Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever
is more than these cometh of evil.' The Jews probably interpreted
the prohibition as restrained to the name JEHOVAH, the name which
the Deity had appointed and appropriated to himself; Exod. vi. 3.
The words of Christ extend the prohibition beyond the _name_ of
God, to everything associated with the idea:--'Swear not, neither
by heaven, for it is God's throne; nor by the earth, for it is
God's footstool; neither by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the
Great King.' Matt. v. 35.
"The offence of profane swearing is aggravated by the consideration,
that in _it_ duty and decency are sacrificed to the slenderest of
temptations. Suppose the habit, either from affectation, or by
negligence and inadvertency, to be already formed, it must always
remain within the power of the most ordinary resolution to correct
it: and it cannot, one would think, cost a great deal to relinquish
the pleasure and honor which it confers. A concern for duty is in
fact never strong, when the exertion requisite to vanquish a habit
founded in no antecedent propensity is thought too much or too
painful.
"A contempt of positive duties, or rather of those duties for which
the reason is not so plain as the command, indicates a disposition
upon which the authority of revelation has obtained little
influence. This remark is applicable to the offence of profane
swearing, and describes, perhaps pretty exactly, the general
character of those who are most addicted to it.
"Mockery and ridicule, when exercised upon the Scriptures, or even
upon the places, persons, and forms set apart for the ministration
of religion, fall within the meaning of the law which forbids the
profanation of God's name; especially as that law is extended by
Christ's interpretation. They are moreover inconsistent with a
religious frame of mind: for as no one ever either feels himself
disposed to pleasantry, or capable of being diverted with the
pleasantry of others, upon matters in which he is deeply interested;
so a mind intent upon the acquisition of heaven rejects with
indignation every attempt to entertain it with jests, calculated to
degrade or deride subjects which it never recollects but with
seriousness and anxiety. Nothing but stupidity, or the most
frivolous disposition of thought, can make even the inconsiderate
forget the supreme importance of everything which relates to the
expectation of a future existence. Whilst the infidel mocks at the
superstitions of the vulgar, insults over their credulous fears,
their childish errors, or fantastic rites, it does not occur to him
to observe, that the most preposterous device by which the weakest
devotee ever believed he was securing the happiness of a future
life, is more rational than unconcern about it. Upon this subject
nothing is so absurd as indifference; no folly so contemptible as
thoughtlessness and levity.
"The knowledge of what is due to the solemnity of those interests,
concerning which Revelation professes to inform and direct us, may
teach even those who are least inclined to respect the prejudices of
mankind, to observe a decorum in the style and conduct of religious
disquisitions, with the neglect of which many adversaries of
Christianity are justly chargeable. Serious arguments are fair on
all sides. Christianity is but ill defended by refusing audience or
toleration to the objections of unbelievers. But whilst we would
have freedom of inquiry restrained by no laws but those of decency,
we are entitled to demand, on behalf of a religion which holds forth
to mankind assurances of immortality, that its credit be assailed by
no other weapons than those of sober discussion and legitimate
reasoning;--that the truth or falsehood of Christianity be never
made a topic of raillery, a theme for the exercise of wit or
eloquence, or a subject of contention for literary fame and
victory;--that the cause be tried upon its merits;--that all
applications to the fancy, passions or prejudices of the reader, all
attempts to preoccupy, ensnare, or perplex his judgment, by any art,
influence, or impression whatsoever, extrinsic to the proper grounds
and evidence upon which his assent ought to proceed, be rejected
from a question which involves in its determination the hopes, the
virtue, and the repose of millions;--that the controversy be managed
on both sides with sincerity; that is, that nothing be produced, in
the writings of either, contrary to or beyond the writer's own
knowledge and persuasion;--that objections and difficulties be
proposed, from no other motive than an honest and serious desire to
obtain satisfaction, or to communicate information which may promote
the discovery and progress of truth;--that, in conformity with this
design, everything be stated with integrity, with method, precision,
and simplicity; and above all, that whatever is published in
opposition to received and confessedly beneficial persuasions, be
set forth under a form which is likely to invite inquiry and to meet
examination. If with these moderate and equitable conditions be
compared the manner in which hostilities have been waged against the
Christian religion, not only the votaries of the prevailing faith,
but every man who looks forward with anxiety to the destination of
his being, will see much to blame and to complain of. By _one
unbeliever_, all the follies which have adhered in a long course of
dark and superstitious ages, to the popular creed, are assumed as so
many doctrines of Christ and his Apostles, for the purpose of
subverting the whole system by the absurdities which it is _thus_
represented to contain. By _another_, the ignorance and vices of the
sacerdotal order, their mutual dissensions and persecutions, their
usurpations and encroachments upon the intellectual liberty and
civil rights of mankind, have been displayed with no small triumph
and invective; not so much to guard the Christian laity against a
repetition of the same injuries (which is the only proper use to be
made of the most flagrant examples of the past,) as to prepare the
way for an insinuation, that the religion itself is nothing but a
profitable fable, imposed upon the fears and credulity of the
multitude, and upheld by the frauds and influence of an interested
and crafty priesthood. And yet, how remotely is the character of the
clergy connected with the truth of Christianity! What, after all, do
the most disgraceful pages of ecclesiastical history prove, but that
the passions of our common nature are not altered or excluded by
distinctions of name, and that the characters of men are formed much
more by the temptations than the duties of their profession? A
_third_ finds delight in collecting and repeating accounts of wars
and massacres, of tumults and insurrections, excited in almost every
age of the Christian era by religious zeal; as though the vices of
Christians were parts of Christianity; intolerance and extirpation
precepts of the Gospel; or as if its spirit could be judged of from
the counsels of princes, the intrigues of statesmen, the pretences
of malice and ambition, or the unauthorized cruelty of some gloomy
and virulent superstition. By a _fourth_, the succession and variety
of popular religions; the vicissitudes with which sects and tenets
have flourished and decayed; the zeal with which they were once
supported, the negligence with which they are now remembered; the
little share which reason and argument appear to have had in framing
the creed, or regulating the religious conduct of the multitude; the
indifference and submission with which the religion of the state is
generally received by the common people; the caprice and vehemence
with which it is sometimes opposed; the frenzy with which men have
been brought to contend for opinions and ceremonies, of which they
knew neither the proof, the meaning, nor the original: lastly, the
equal and undoubting confidence with which we hear the doctrines of
Christ or of Confucius, the law of Moses or of Mahomet, the Bible,
the Koran, or the Shaster, maintained or anathematized, taught or
abjured, revered or derided, according as we live on this or on that
side of a river; keep within or step over the boundaries of a state;
or even in the same country, and by the same people, so often as the
event of a battle, or the issue of a negotiation, delivers them to
the dominion of a new master;--points, we say, of this sort are
exhibited to the public attention, as so many arguments against the
_truth_ of the Christian religion;--and with success. For these
topics being brought together, and set off with some aggravation of
circumstances, and with a vivacity of style and description familiar
enough to the writings and conversation of free-thinkers, insensibly
lead the imagination into a habit of classing Christianity with the
delusions that have taken possession, by turns, of the public
belief; and of regarding it as, what the scoffers of our faith
represent it to be, _the superstition of the day_. But is this to
deal honestly by the subject, or with the world? May not the same
things be said, may not the same prejudices be excited by these
representations, whether Christianity be true or false, or by
whatever proofs its truth be attested? May not truth as well as
falsehood be taken upon credit? May not a religion be founded upon
evidence accessible and satisfactory to every mind competent to the
inquiry, which yet, by the greatest part of its professors, is
received upon authority?
"But if the _matter_ of these objections be reprehensible, as
calculated to produce an effect upon the reader beyond what their
real weight and place in the argument deserve, still more shall we
discover of management and disingenuousness in the _form_ under
which they are dispersed among the public. Infidelity is served up
in every shape that is likely to allure, surprise, or beguile the
imagination; in a fable, a tale, a novel, a poem; in interspersed
and broken hints, remote and oblique surmises; in books of travels,
of philosophy, of natural history; in a word, in any form rather
than the right one, that of a professed and regular disquisition.
And because the coarse buffoonery and broad laugh of the old and
rude adversaries of the Christian faith would offend the taste,
perhaps, rather than the virtue, of this cultivated age, a graver
irony, a more skilful and delicate banter is substituted in its
place. An eloquent historian, beside his more direct, and therefore
fairer, attacks upon the credibility of Evangelic story, has
contrived to weave into his narration one continued sneer upon the
cause of Christianity, and upon the writings and characters of its
ancient patrons. The knowledge which this author possesses of the
frame and conduct of the human mind must have led him to observe,
that such attacks do their execution without inquiry. Who can refute
a _sneer_? Who can compute the number, much less, one by one,
scrutinize the justice of those disparaging insinuations which crowd
the pages of this elaborate history? What reader suspends his
curiosity, or calls off his attention from the principal narrative,
to examine references, to search into the foundation, or to weigh
the reason, propriety, and force of every transient sarcasm and sly
allusion, by which the Christian testimony is depreciated and
traduced; and by which, nevertheless, he may find his persuasion
afterwards unsettled and perplexed?"
"But the enemies of Christianity have pursued her with poisoned
arrows. Obscenity itself is made the vehicle of infidelity. The
fondness for ridicule is almost universal; and ridicule to many
minds is never so irresistible as when seasoned with obscenity,
and employed upon religion. But in proportion as these noxious
principles take hold of the imagination, they infatuate the
judgment; for trains of ludicrous and unchaste associations,
adhering to every sentiment and mention of religion, render the mind
indisposed to receive either conviction from its evidence, or
impressions from its authority. And this effect, being exerted upon
the sensitive part of our frame, is altogether independent of
argument, proof, or reason; is as formidable to a true religion
as to a false one; to a well-grounded faith as to a chimerical
mythology, or fabulous tradition. Neither, let it be observed, is
the crime or danger less, because impure ideas are exhibited under
a veil, in covert and chastised language."
LECTURE VI.
On Marriage.
"Have ye not read that he which made them at the beginning,
made them male and female? And said, For this cause shall a
man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife;
and they twain shall be one flesh. Wherefore they are no more
twain, but one flesh. What, therefore, God hath joined
together, let not man put asunder."--Matt. xix. 4,5,6.
It is not impossible that some may doubt the propriety of
introducing into the pulpit the subject which will claim our
attention this evening. Marriage is a topic of so much every-day
conversation; it is so often and habitually treated as a light and
trivial affair--forming as it does, in every circle of society, a
standing matter for jest and laughter, for tattle and gossip--that
many are surprised at the idea of treating it in a thoughtful and
serious manner. So far from this being an objection, it is an urgent
reason for presenting this subject under the sedate influences of
this place and occasion. I would bring out the important event
of Marriage, from amid the frivolity with which it is usually
associated, and present it in its real and true aspect--as a topic
demanding the most sober and mature consideration.
Marriage is a divine covenant, instituted by God himself.--"And the
Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone. I will
make him a help-meet for him." From the body of Adam, woman was
formed, and given to him as a companion, a wife. "And Adam said,
This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh. She shall be
called woman, because she was taken out of man. Therefore shall a
man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife:
and they shall be one flesh." The Saviour also, in the language of
the text, unqualifiedly sanctions the marriage covenant, and
adopts it as one of the sacred institutions of the Christian
dispensation.
The marriage relation is vitally connected with the highest
interests of human society. It restrains, purifies, elevates
mankind. It is the great preserver of morality and religion; and
forms one of the most effective of the influences which prevent the
world from being deluged with licentiousness, and every loathsome
form of evil. All the comforts of domestic life--the sacred and
deathless ties of the family circle--the dear delights, the
cherished associations, the hallowed memories of the paternal
fireside--spring directly from the marriage state. It is this alone
that gives us the home of our childhood, the love, the protection,
the wise counsel and advice of parents. It is this that affords the
sacred retreat in mature days, where, from the strifes, and cares,
and bitter disappointments of the business mart, the husband and
father can retire, and amid the soothing attentions and the unbought
love of wife and children, renew his strength and courage for future
struggles. It is this that furnishes the aged patriarch and the
venerable matron, with the safe covert, the quiet refuge, the warm,
snug corner, where they can pass the winter of life, surrounded by
children and children's children, who delight to rise up and do them
reverence, and minister to their comforts.
"Domestic happiness! thou only bliss
Of paradise that hath survived the fall!
* * * * * * *
"Thou art the nurse of virtue; in thine arms
She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is,
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again."
Among all nations, wherever the marriage tie is the most generally
formed, and held the most sacred, there woman holds the highest
position and obtains her truest estimation--there civilization and
refinement--there truth, purity, fidelity, and all the virtues and
graces that can adorn and elevate humanity, bloom in vigorous
luxuriance. And in the same degree that this sacred relationship is
neglected, and its obligations disregarded, in any nation, do we
find woman degraded, and ignorance, barbarism, sensuality and vice,
in every shape, prevailing and preying on the vitals of society.
In view of these considerations, it assuredly cannot be deemed
improper, in addressing the young, to call their especial attention
to a subject so interesting as Marriage, and one so vitally
connected with all that is valuable and sacred. Indeed any series
of discourses designed to counsel them, which should omit this
all-important topic, would seem to be deficient in one of the first
essentials of salutary admonition.
In presenting this subject to the consideration of the youthful,
I would admonish them against thoughtless engagements, and hasty
marriages. A heedlessness in these matters, is fraught with
dangerous consequences. Matrimony is not to be viewed as a mere
joke, or frolic, to be engaged in at any moment, without forethought
or preparation. It is the first great step, the most momentous
event, in the life of a young couple. Their position, their
circumstances, their habits, their manner of occupying time, their
prospects, all undergo an almost total change at this important era.
It will be to them a source of prosperity, of peace, of the highest
enjoyments, or of adversity, misfortune, wrangling, and bitter
wretchedness--as they do, or do not, exercise discretion and
judgment in forming the connection. No thoughtful young man, no
prudent young woman, will enter into an engagement of marriage, much
less consummate the act, without viewing it in all its bearings.
They will maturely weigh the consequences which follow, and
seriously reflect upon the new scenes, duties, responsibilities, and
labors, to which it leads.