Were God really unwilling, that men should strive; had he discountenanced efforts; had he established no means of grace; or had those means, when anxiously and perseveringly used, failed of success; there would, indeed, be ample room for well-founded discouragement. But, when we find, as in my view we do in fact find, all these things reversed in the good pleasure, and providence, of God; we have every inducement to hope, and to labour; much more, it would seem, than from any supposable situation, in which all things were left to fluctuation and casualty. Stupid sinners have indeed, according to this and every other scheme, the most fearful reason for discouragement and terror. But such as are awakened, anxious, and engaged, to seek eternal life, have solid and abundant reason for hope.

Mankind seem, in many instances, to suppose, that the decrees of God produce the event without means; according to the Mohammedan doctrine of predestination. Whereas, if they believed, that the pleasure of God formed the system, and selected the means and agents, by which all events are accomplished; if they believed those agents to be endued with all the powers of the freest possible agency, and to be selected, and formed, so that they might act with perfect freedom; if they believed, that God always furnishes them with the necessary means of obedience, and with motives to obedience, more and greater than any, which they can find, to disobey; if they believed, that God, by a direct agency of his own, does not constrain them to any act whatever, but leaves them in all instances to act, with perfect freedom, just as they please; I think they would also believe, that there is no more difficulty, attending the fact, that he has chosen, and formed, such agents, as he knew would unitedly do all his pleasure, than would attend his choice and formation of such agents, as would act in any other manner whatever. But all this, for ought that appears, is true. The contrary doctrine has never been evinced to be true; at least in my apprehension; and I fully believe never will be.

On the other hand, it will be proper, for a moment, to turn our thoughts to the influence of the supposition, that God has not fixed the system of things according to his Pleasure. It cannot but be acknowledged, that he knew what system was, upon the whole, most desirable, wisest, and best. If he did not resolve on it, it was plainly because he did not desire, or choose, to bring it to pass. In plain English, then, he did not desire the chief good of his creation, or the supreme glory of himself, with sufficient goodwill to resolve on it. Can this be infinite good-will? Can it be moral perfection? It was certainly as easy for him to accomplish it, as to accomplish an inferior system of good. If, then, he did not resolve on the superior system; it was plainly because he loved the inferior system better, and chose to do less good, rather than greater. His disposition, therefore, is on this scheme, imper

fectly good in itself; how imperfectly, it is impossible, according to this supposition, to determine.

According to this supposition, it is further to be observed, all things are left by God in a state of absolute uncertainty. The whole happiness of his intelligent creatures is committed to the casual influence and efficacy of their own views, feelings, and conduct. God cannot, in the nature of the case, interfere, either by determination, or influence, without destroying the free agency, or discouraging the efforts, of his Intelligent creatures, for the attainment of happiness. The whole system of the universe, so far as these creatures are concerned, must of course be regulated wholly by them. Does not this scheme evidently set all their interests afloat, and leave them eternally to the uncertain and hazardous direction of finite wisdom and goodness? From the experience, which we have had of the character and conduct of such creatures, is there a person in this assembly, who would willingly commit his eternal interests to this perilous direction, and trust his all to the disposal of beings so weak, and so often wicked? Can this be safe for creatures? Can it consist with the perfect character of God? To the wisdom and forecast of his own mind, a man might, through overweening self-confidence, be willing perhaps to commit the guidance of any interest, and feel that his Soul itself would be safe in his own hands. But would the same person trust himself to the final direction of others? Would he venture his eternal welfare upon the wisdom and benevolence of any, or all, of those by whom he is encircled? Their fitness for this mighty trust is, however, not inferior to his own; and they would as justly refuse to confide their souls to his care, as he would refuse to entrust his soul to them. Were he not blinded, therefore, by an unwarrantable partiality for himself, he would no sooner, no more willingly, trust himself in this mighty concern, than he would trust those around him. To do either, he would clearly discern, would be foolish and dangerous in the extreme. Wisdom, on the contrary, would teach both him and them to commit themselves, and their whole well-being, implicitly to God.

On the connexion of prayer with this subject, I design to dwell particularly, when I shall come to the consideration of that duty. I have purposely omitted the examination of it at the present time, because several things relating to it, belong to Prayer only, and demand a separate discussion.

Whether the observations, which I have made on the general doctrine of this discourse, will be viewed by others as possessing the importance, which I have attached to them, I cannot determine. To me, they have appeared to possess real weight. If they should contribute in any measure to remove difficulties, to settle doubtful opinions, to establish truth, and to communicate satisfactory views concerning a subject so often attended with perplexity and alarm; I shall esteem my labours amply rewarded.

SERMON XVI.

THE SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD.

JEREMIAH X. 23-0 Lord, I know, that the way of man is not in himself, it is not in man, that walketh, to direct his steps.

IN this passage of Scripture, the prophet, after uttering a variety of sublime declarations concerning the perfections and providence of God, and the follies and sins of men, exhibits the progress of life as a Way. In this Way, all men are considered as travelling. We commence the journey at our birth; pass on through the several stages of childhood, youth, manhood, and old age, and finish it when we enter eternity. The accommodations, and the fare, are greatly varied among the various travellers. Some find their entertainment plentiful, and agreeable: and some, even luxurious and splendid. Others are slenderly provided with food, raiment, and lodging; are almost mere sufferers; and literally, have not where to lay their heads.

In the mean time, sorrow and disease, dangers and accidents, like a band of marauders, lie in wait for the travellers; and harass, and destroy, a great proportion of their number. Of the vast multitude, who continually walk in the path of life, almost all disappear long before they reach the goal, at which it terminates. A very few arrive at the end. Of these, every one, dragging heavily his weary feet over the last division of the road, teaches us, that this part of his progress is only labour and sorrow.

A remarkable fact, universally attendant on our journey, is recited in the text. O Lord, says the deeply humbled prophet, I know, that the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man, that walketh, to direct his steps. The enterprise is not contrived by ourselves. We are placed in it, and necessitated to accomplish it, by a superior, and irresistible, hand. It cannot but seem strange, that in such a journey we should originally be prevented from the ability to direct ourselves; and that, while we are compelled to the undertaking, we should be furnished for it in a manner so imperfect. Yet such is unquestionably the fact. Nor is the explanation so difficult, or so unsatisfactory, as we are prone to believe. GOD originally intended, that all his creatures should be dependent on him for aid, guidance, and protection. Nor can it be rationally supposed, that such a dependence on his perfections, and providence, is either unreasonable or undesirable. The Sovereignty of GOD, which is so clearly, and strongly, visible in this interesting subject, has ever been questioned, and very often denied, by mankind. To establish this doctrine in the minds of

my audience, is the peculiar design of the present discourse. In a sermon, lately delivered in this place on the decrees of GOD, I explained what I intend by the divine Sovereignty. It was then observed, that the conduct of GOD is sovereign, in this sense; that he does according to his will, independently and irresistibly, without giving an account of any of his matters any farther than he pleases; but that he wills nothing without the best reason, whether that reason be disclosed to his creatures, or not; that real glory to himself, and real good to his creation, not otherwise attainable, are universally the object, to which his pleasure is directed, whether it respects the existence, and motions, of an insect, or the salvation of a man. It was remarked, also, at that time, that, in the ordinary sense of the word, God never acts arbitrarily; and that to say, he wills a thing because he wills it, is to speak without meaning. All his pleasure, all his determinations, are perfectly wise and good; founded on the best of all reasons, and directed to the best of all purposes. Were he to act in any other manner, his providence would be less wise, and less desirable.

It will not be questioned, that this doctrine is deeply interesting to man. On this life is suspended that, which is to come. Consequences, eternal and incomprehensible, will flow from those doctrines, which we adopt in the present world. All our conduct will then be examined; and will either be approved, or condemned. If we have chosen the strait, and narrow way, prescribed to us, the termination will be happy. If we have preferred the broad and crooked road, it will be deplorable,

Few of this audience will probably deny the truth of a direct Scriptural declaration. With as little reason can it be denied, that most of them apparently live in the very manner, in which they would live, if the doctrine were false: or that they rely, chiefly at least, on their own sagacity, contrivance, and efforts, for success in this life, and that which is to come. Ás little can it be questioned, that such self-confidence is a guide, eminently dangerous, and deceitful. Safe as we may feel under its direction, our safety is imaginary. The folly of others in trusting to themselves we discern irresistibly. The same folly they perceive, with equal evidence, in us. Our true wisdom lies in willingly feeling, and cheerfully acknowledging, our dependence on GOD; and in committing ourselves with humble reliance to his care and direction.

With these observations, I will now proceed to illustrate the truth of the doctrine. The mode which I shall pursue will, probably, be thought singular. I hope it will be useful. Metaphysical arguments, which are customarily employed for the purpose of establishing this, and several other doctrines, of theology, are, if I mistake not, less satisfactory to the minds of men at large, than the authors of them appear to believe. Facts, wherever they can be fairly adduced for this end, are attended with a superior power of conviction; and commonly leave little doubt behind them. VOL. I.

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On these, therefore, I shall at the present time rely for the accomplishment of my design. In the

1st. place, The doctrine of the text is evident, from the great fact, that the birth, and education, of all men, depend not on them

selves.

The succeeding events of life are derived, in a great measure at least, from our birth. By this event, it is in a prime degree determined whether men shall be princes or peasants, opulent or poor, learned or ignorant, honourable or despised; whether they shall be civilized or savage, free men or slaves, Christians or Heathen, Mohammedans or Jews.

A child is born of Indian parents in the western wilderness. By his birth he is, of course, a savage. His friends, his mode of life, his habits, his knowledge, his opinions, his conduct, all grow out of this single event. His first thoughts, his first instructions, and all the first objects, with which he is conversant, the persons whom he loves, the life to which he addicts himself, and the character which he assumes, are all savage. He is an Indian from the cradle: he is an Indian to the grave. To say, that he could not be otherwise, we are not warranted; but that he is not, is certain.

Another child is born of a Bedouin Arab. From this moment he begins to be an Arabian. His hand is against every man ; and every man's hand is against him. Before he can walk, or speak, he is carried through pathless wastes in search of food; and roams in the arms of his mother, and on the back of a camel, from spring to spring, and from pasture to pasture. Even then he begins his conflict with hunger and thirst; is scorched by a vertical sun; shrivelled by the burning sand beneath; and poisoned by the breath of the Simoom. Hardened thus through his infancy and childhood, both in body and mind, he becomes, under the exhorta tions, and example, of his father, a robber from his youth; attacks every stranger, whom he is able to overcome; and plunders every valuable thing, on which he can lay his hand.

A third receives his birth in the palace of a British nobleman; and is welcomed to the world as the heir apparent of an ancient, honourable, and splendid family. As soon as he opens his eyes on the light, he is surrounded by all the enjoyments, which opulence can furnish, ingenuity contrive, or fondness bestow. He is dandled on the knee of indulgence; encircled by attendants, who watch, and prevent, alike his necessities and wishes; cradled on down; and charmed to sleep by the voice of tenderness and care. From the dangers, and evils, of life, he is guarded with anxious solicitude. To its pleasures, he is conducted by the ever-ready hand of maternal affection. His person is shaped, and improved, by a succession of masters; his mind is opened, invigorated, and refined, by the assiduous superintendence of learning and wisdom. While a child, he is served by a host of menials, and flattered by successive trains of visiters. When a youth, he is regarded by a band