Sermon – Artillery – 1847

William Parsons Lunt (1805-1857) Biography:

At the age of ten, his parents sent him to an academy to prepare him for college. Lunt graduated from Harvard at the age of 18 and spent a year teaching in Plymouth. He then began the study of law in Boston, and in 1825 entered Cambridge Divinity School. In 1828, he became pastor of the Second Unitarian Church of New York City but left in 1833. For the next two years, he served as a visiting preacher in churches who needed a fill-in pastor, and then became an associate pastor in Quincy, Massachusetts, where he eventually became pastor, serving until 1856. His heart’s desire was to visit the Holy Land and walk where his Savior had walked, which he was finally able to do after he left the church in Quincy; but on that trip, he became ill, died, and was buried near the Red Sea. Across his life, he preached several notable sermons, including the funeral sermon of former President John Quincy Adams, a sermon on the great Daniel Webster, and a noted artillery sermon.


sermon-artillery-1847

A

DISCOURSE

DELIVERED IN

THE FIRST CHURCH, BOSTON,

BEFORE THE

ANCIENT AND HONORABLE ARTILLERY COMPANY,

JUNE 7, 1847,

BEING THE CCIXth ANNIVERSARY.

BY WILLIAM P. LUNT,
Pastor of the First Congregational Church in Quincy.

 

ARMORY OF THE ANCIENT AND HONORABLE ARTILLERY COMPANY,
BOSTON, JUNE 9, 1847.Rev. Wm. P. Lunt,

Dear Sir:—The undersigned, by a vote of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, passed on the evening of their Anniversary, were appointed a Committee to communicate to you the thanks of the Corps for the able and eloquent discourse, delivered by you before them on the seventh instant, and to request a copy of it for publication.

We take occasion to express the very great personal satisfaction with which we listened to the sermon at its delivery;–a feeling which we know was shared by all who were present;—and we hope, that by assenting to its publication, you will enable the public to profit by the valuable sentiments which it embodies.

We are, with the highest respect,
Your obedient servants,

Past Officers of the Anc. And Hon. Artillery Company.
GEO. TYLER BIGELOW,
BENJ. H. BURRELL,
GEORGE M. THACHER,
CHARLES G. KING,

 

Quincy, June 14, 1847.GENTLEMEN:

In compliance with the request, communicated in your favor of June 9th, in behalf of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, I place in your hands, for publication, the discourse delivered on the seventh instant.

Thanking you for the kind terms in which the vote of the Company has been conveyed,

I am, Gentlemen,

Respectfully yours,

WM. P. LUNT.

Past Officers of the Anc. And Hon. Artillery Company.

To Messrs. GEO. TYLER BIGELOW,
BENJ. H. BURRELL,
GEORGE M. THACHER,
C. G. KING,

 

 

DISCOURSE.NUMBERS, CHAP. XXVII, V. 20.

“And thou shalt put some of thine honor upon him (Joshua) that all the congregation of the children of Israel may be obedient.”

HEBREWS, CHAP. III, V. 3.

“For this man was counted worthy of more glory than Moses.”

The words which I have just read have been selected, partly from one of the Sacred Books of the Old Testament, and in part from the Christian Scriptures, simply because they bring together three ideas, which it is the object of this discourse to treat of in connection. Moses, knowing that he must soon be removed from the earth, felt the importance of designating some person who should succeed him, as a Leader of the Hebrew people. The chief work, that of organizing the nation, and moulding the civil and ecclesiastical institutions under which they were to live,—this work had been done by Moses, the Prophet and Lawgiver. The most difficult duty of a Leader had, therefore, been already accomplished. It remained to appoint some one who should help to preserve what had been gained, and to consolidate what had been established, who should direct the energies of this compact community against their enemies, and secure for them the quiet possession of the promised land. A person competent for this office was found in Joshua, and Moses was directed to set him before the congregation. “And,” continues the divine charge to Moses, “thou shalt put some of thine honor upon him, that all the congregation of the children of Israel may be obedient.” The idea conveyed by these words seems to be, that although Joshua succeeded Moses, yet he did not,—it was not intended that he should,—fill the place of the great Hebrew Lawgiver. He had but a secondary office to discharge, and only a portion of the honor, of which Moses was the object, was transferred to him. This then may be regarded as the sentiment of the ancient Scriptures,—that the Lawgiver takes precedence of the Military Leader. But if such be the relative rank of Moses as compared with Joshua, we find a different place assigned to him when we turn to the new dispensation. A greater than Moses is here. “For this man (the author of Christianity) was counted worthy of more glory than Moses.”

Jesus, Moses, Joshua,—the inspired moral teacher, the wise lawgiver, the skilful and brave captain. The Bible, which commands us to render unto all their dues, seems to assign this relative order and rank, in the scale of honor, to the three personages I have named. And this is the order in which mankind have generally consented to esteem the three kinds of greatness represented by these individuals. It is true that this order has been occasionally disturbed in the judgments of the world; but in the long course of events men’s minds settle down upon this estimate. Sometimes there has been a disposition to rate too high the military chief. And this pernicious idolatry has encouraged wars and oppressions in the earth. But such perverted feelings short-lived. They soon yield to a sounder and juster way of thinking. What renowned master of the art of war, from “great Julius” to still greater Napoleon, occupies such a space in the world’s regard as Moses, the Hebrew legislator and statesman? Or has exerted such a powerful influence (not to speak at present of the kind of influence, but simply of its amount) upon the actual condition of the world?

And this order, which the Bible assigns, to the moral teacher, the lawgiver, and the military leader, has, uniformly and from the commencement of our history, accorded with the sentiment of New England. It is a curious fact, quite characteristic of our forefathers, that, when application was first made for a charter for the Military Company whose anniversary we are met to observe, according to Gov. Winthrop, “the Council, considering (from the example of the Pretorian Band among the Romans, and the Templars of Europe) how dangerous it might be to erect a standing authority of military men which might easily, in time, overthrow the civil power, thought fit to stop it betimes.” We might be disposed to smile at the great jealousy evinced by our ancestors towards what has always seemed to us a harmless situation, if we did know that this jealousy was connected, in their characters, with qualities to which we are indebted for all we most highly prize. Let the philosophical student of history say, to what other portion of the inhabited earth shall we turn, to find, in the early half of the seventeenth century, such a wholesome distrust of military influence, such a wise precaution with regard to any thing that threatened danger to “the civil power.” We can forgive the exaggeration which brought up before the imaginations of the Puritan settlers of New England, the lordly Templars and the despotic Pretorians, when we reflect upon the civil virtues of which they left the world such eminent examples.

And do I err, in supposing that the sentiment which was so strong in the minds of the fathers of New England, which we have seen to be the sentiment of the Hebrew and of the Christian Scriptures, which allowed only part of the honor belonging of right to Moses to be given to Joshua, and which counted the teacher of Galilee “worthy of more glory than Moses,”—in supposing that this is the sentiment of those who have invited me to address them on the present occasion? I am not standing in the presence of men whose trade is war. Pleasant as are the associations of this day to those most interested in it, I presume they all, without exception, think more highly of their civil relations and of their duties as citizens and Christian men, than of military distinction. We have never had among us a class of fighting-men, whose training has been only that of the camp of the gun-deck. It is to be hoped that we may never need or know such a class in the midst of us, and that we may not go beyond our own limits to seek an idol of this sort for the worship of our people. And we have never failed to have among us a large class of men, with strong arms and stout hearts, who, when danger threatened, or rebellion lifted its head, or the country was invaded, or our citizens were immured in foreign prisons, or the laws needed to be supported and upheld, could seize their weapons, and use them with effect. May the number of this class never be smaller.

I have remarked that the order which the Bible assigns to the three individuals already named, is, Jesus the inspired moral teacher, Moses the lawgiver, Joshua the military leader. It may be said, I know, in regard to Moses and Jesus, that they were both lawgivers and both moral teachers. They were so in a certain sense. But there is a lain distinction between them which our minds readily make. Moses was a teacher of morals. But his distinguishing peculiarity is, that he conveyed his moral influence to men’s minds, in the shape of commandments which were to be obeyed, rather than of moral truth which was designed to live in men’s convictions, and to work obedience through the action of those convictions upon the conscience, the will and the life. And so too in a certain sense Jesus may be called a lawgiver, inasmuch as he taught doctrines and principles which have ruled the minds and hearts of thousands of human beings the world over. But his was “the law of the spirit of life,” pertaining to the soul, and not the law which enjoins obedience, without regard to the state of the mind, upon penalty of suffering and death. Moses gave the world a code of laws. He went into particulars. He invented and prescribed a special form of civil and ecclesiastical polity. He organized a community and nation, and his laws extended to the minute detail of life. Christ, on the other hand, devised and enjoined no particular form of civil or ecclesiastical polity. His kingdom was not intended to be visible, or to take any outward shape; it was to be set up in the souls of men. His truth was to rule his followers through the convictions of the mind, the sentiments of the heart, and the principles of the conscience. It did not limit men’s choice to any particular modes of expressing its principles. It did not dictate any pattern for social organization. It was a spirit rather than a rigid rule. It was a new atmosphere which men were to inhale, and thereby receive and be conscious of a higher, intenser, more healthy moral life. Christ was a teacher of moral truth, and communicated it in such a shape that it should dwell in men’s minds, be appropriated by them, made their own, through faith, inward conviction, and manifest itself outwardly in whatever acts, features of character, virtues, modes of life, habits, and manners, social institutions usages, conventional arrangements and political combinations it might incline men spontaneously to adopt. In this way Christian truth, being enthroned in the mind as a principle, would operate so steadily and powerfully as to render unnecessary all express statutes. It would produce a better kind of righteousness than that which consists in literal obedience, in mere conformity to rules, the reason of which is not seen and acknowledged.

And the three individuals who have been named represent three principles which obtain in the government of the world in which we live, viz: Force, Reason, Love. These principles all enter into the methods by which Providence controls and governs the world. They all have a place, an appropriate place, in the Divine administration of the affairs of the universe. Not force alone, nor reason alone, nor yet love alone, is to govern in such a world as we are living in. Each of these principles has its sphere marked out for it, its office to perform, its part to contribute to the general end. And every theory, that would do justice to the plain facts of life, must recognize all these principles. He who is Almighty does yet not depend solely upon his irresistible power and absolute sovereignty. He is wise and just too; and would have his proceedings and laws understood and allowed to be wise and just by his rational creatures. And he seeks also, not merely to control, as he may, our destiny, nor merely, through the convictions of the rational faculty in the human mind, to extort a cold acknowledgment that his government is right and just, but to attach us to himself by the strongest affection of the heart, the love of God.

The three principles we are considering are seen operating in the government of a family. Parental authority, the right and duty, if need be, to enforce obedience, is every where acknowledged. The child is reasoned with as soon as he comes to years of discretion. And the affections of the young heart ought to be cultivated, appealed to and relied on in every Christian home. There may be ground for saying that that household is in the best condition, where no force is needed, where it is not necessary even to reason with children, to produce submission and obedience, where all is accomplished by love. But there seems to be no ground for asserting that any one of the three principles just named can be dispensed with at once and in all cases; much less can it be maintained, that either of them is inadmissible in any circumstances. And the same is true in regard to the human race at large, considered as the great family of God. He appeals to the reason or intelligence which he has bestowed upon us. He reveals himself also as our Father, and inspires us with love. But at the same time it is a fact which we cannot gainsay, and ought not to thrust out of sight, or to nullify by our favorite theories, that we are living under a system of absolute Power which is as appalling as it is irresistible. The great difficulty with many is that they take up theories, or contract prejudices, which narrow the mind’s vision and pervert the judgment. There is a place for force in the arrangements of the world. But those who have been accustomed to the use of force exclusively to govern their fellow-men, are too apt to be skeptical concerning the efficacy or practicability of any other kind of influence. The rigid disciplinarian of the quarter-deck, the “Iron Duke” of armed legions, or the stern pedagogue of the type of the last century are unable to conceive it possible to govern boys or men in any other way than by the rope’s end, or the rod, or the bayonet. The suggestion that other modes may be employed with success, would furnish proof positive, to such minds, of derangement on the part of him who should make it. And an equally narrow way of thinking is often witnessed in those who take up the notion that every thing is to be effected by reason or by love, and who exclude force from the lawful and God-appointed instrumentalities by which the world is to be controlled. Now against this narrow way of thinking, the Bible as well as human live, is a continued protest.

Force, Reason, Love. The military represents and embodies the first of these ideas, Force. The second, Reason, expresses itself in Law, understood in the largest sense; comprising common, municipal, constitutional, international Law; all those usages and customs which are the ruts in which the wheels of society run for unmeasured periods of time, until the track is worn smooth, and deviation from them is not thought of; all those express statutes and enactments which legislators make and adapt to existing and temporary exigencies in any community; all those fundamental, organic principles which are agreed on by men, in framing the particular governments under which they consent to live; all those general ideas of right and justice, the materials of an uncompiled code of catholic Law by which different nations are united virtually in a kind of world-confederacy, or what Sir James Mackintosh happily calls “the great commonwealth of mankind;” a union and commonwealth, let it be observed, in passing, which it is the tendency of civilization, especially of Christian civilization, to promote and strengthen, to make possible, and so to make actual. All these branches of Law we may properly refer to the Reason or Intelligence which God has given us, even if we adopt the theory of a separate and appropriate faculty of the human mind for the apprehension and judgment of moral facts and the moral ideas which every mind gins, of necessity, in this world, and forms them into systems, laws, commandments, and thus gives shape and body to what, through instinct, or original sentiment, or inborn principle, the Creator may be supposed to have implanted in the human constitution.

The third idea of which mention has been made is Love. This is the foundation principle of Christianity. The first commandment according to Christ is love to God. The second is like to it, love to our neighbor. And all the Law and Prophets are summed up in these two precepts. Nor does the fact that Christianity does not make use of force or of reason, to effect its intended objects, prove that it condemned the use of force and reason under all circumstances. The special work it proposed to accomplish did not require force. “If my kingdom were of this world,” said Jesus, “then would my disciples fight.” He had no outward visible polity to establish, as Moses had. Neither did he come to found a school of science, to discourse logically concerning philosophy, morals, theology, to unfold the abstruse subjects upon which the profoundest minds have been meditating, almost without result, for centuries. If this had been a chief or a prominent object with him, then would he have relied, as he never did, upon reason; he would have speculated and theorized; he would not have “taught as one having authority,” but would have shown the reason of what he enjoined upon his followers by formal arguments. Yet who pretends that Christianity condemns the use of reason or appropriate appeals to reason, or all attempts to influence men through their reason? And is there any more reason for alleging that Christianity condemns all use of force, because it had no occasions for force itself? It in fact expressly declares, that the civil magistrate “beareth not the sword in vain;” and commands its disciples to “render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s.”

I say, therefore, again, that force has its appropriate place in the government of the world. Among the attributes which we are taught to ascribe to the Deity, is omnipotent might. Nor does Christianity, the religion emphatically of love, leave out of view this dread feature of the Godhead. Christ not only presented to men’s minds the mild idea of God the Father, but warned his disciples to “fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” Can the theorists of our day repeat this awful language, and then say that our religion entertains no other idea of government than love? It would not be easy to turn to a passage in either sacred or profane writ,—search, if we will, the records of the world through—of more terrible import than the words which I have quoted from the lips of him whose great law at the same time was love.

The emblem that represents the government of the world is a wheel within a wheel, as seen in the vision of God’s ancient Prophet. Force, Reason, Love, these are the principles of three kingdoms, one within another, involved in a perplexed general system, ruling men by their fears, by their convictions, and by their affections.

But in the modern Platonic Republic which the wise men of our day construct in idea, force is not admitted; it is not regarded as a legitimate agent in effecting any purpose which rational beings may aim at; it is accordingly condemned, disowned, and rejected. This way of thinking is approved by those particularly who oppose war as unjustifiable under any circumstances. War is undeniably, professedly, an appeal to physical force, to settle national differences. But force is at the foundation of all society, as society has hitherto always been constituted. Society is based upon a compulsory, not a voluntary principle. There always has been, and it would seem that there must be, allegiance to a sovereign will, however that will may be expressed, and wherever men may consent that it shall be lodged. “The powers that be are ordained of God.” Such is the form of words in which the Christian Scriptures recognize the important principle I have stated. In this language is expressed the idea of the divine right of government; not the divine right of kings; not the divine right of a republic; not the divine right of any particular form of government which men have devised or can devise; but the divine right of government, the divine right then of force. The Divine Providence allows mankind the privilege of choosing what form of government they will live under. But they are not allowed to go farther than this. They have never been permitted to choose between some government and none at all.

The right of any government to call upon those who live under its protection to contribute a portion of their substance, in the shape of a tax, for public uses, will be generally conceded. But suppose I resist the call, and choose to reason against the justice or propriety of such payment, not against the particular amount that may be assessed, but against the right to impose any amount whatever, will the officer or agent of government, who may be charged with the collection of the tax, stand and reason with me the point; or will he not proceed, in the execution of his official duty, to compel payment, by the seizure of such portion of my property, if he can find any, as shall meet the demand, and if need be, the escort of my person to the safe lodgings for such cases made and provided? Now this escort is not conducted, and this whole process, called with some humor (for the law, it seems, has its humor as well as its fictions) a civil process, is not served, by armed officials, by plumed and sworded knights, nor is it accomplished by sweet and resonant music; but in what, except these unessential accidents, does it differ from the way of “an army with banners?” It is force—physical force—the force of the stronger, compelling me, whether I will or not, whether to my mind what is required may seem rational and right, or tyrannical and unjust, compelling me to contribute my proportion to the public weal.

We hear much, (not too much certainly) concerning the horrors of war. The picture which is drawn of those horrors is not overcharged. It is all true to fact and reality. The catalogue of atrocities which war occasions is easily filled up, because those atrocities are public, notorious transactions, enacted in the open face of heaven. The passions that lead to them are such as may be indulged, through the license of the world’s opinion, without scruple. But can any reflecting man doubt, that as large, if not a still larger catalogue of what may be called the horrors of peace, such, I mean, as belong exclusively to a time of peace, such as war banishes, and may perhaps be regarded as a remedy for in Providence, might be made out? Take, for example, the times that preceded the first French Revolution; consider the state of society in that country, the morals of the people in all classes, the monstrous abuses which were not only tolerated but consecrated by the insane delusion which left, unburied and chained to the living body of society, the dead and corrupt past; and if our horror at the bloody scenes which followed is not diminished, is not our amazement less, when we trace those scenes to their true cause? Who at the present day speaks or writes of the French Revolution, in the manner of Edmund Burke, at the close of the last century, when the personal sufferings of the royal and noble exiles who carried to England all the grace, vivacity and elegance of the French Court, might well inspire a romantic interest, in their behalf, in all cultivated and generous minds? Instead of lamenting, in the musical language of Burke, that “the age of chivalry is gone,” we are disposed rather to pray that it may never be allowed to return. We can see, what the contemporaries of the great tragedy were too near to discern, that the interests of humanity required that there should be a violent social convulsion, and an overthrow of existing institutions. The soil of society must be broken up by the ploughshare of revolution and war, before it could be prepared to produce what humanity craved. Consider the thirty years of peace with which the nations of the first class in Christendom have been blessed since the career of Napoleon was terminated on the decisive field of Waterloo. And is there any thinking man among us, so blindly wedded to theory, or so afraid of betraying a good cause by acknowledging a plain truth, who believes or will assert that such a peace could have been enjoyed for so long a period, had it not been preceded by the desolating but purifying flame of war, which was allowed to pass over the earth, and to burn up the corrupt, noxious materials that had been accumulating for centuries?

Peace, then, we must conclude, is sometimes essentially promoted by war. This seems to be one of the appointments of the Divine Providence that rules in the world’s affairs. God make the “wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of wrath he restrains.” In the story of the Hebrew champion, Samson, we read, that, after he had exerted his prodigious strength in the destruction of a lion, in one of his journeys over the same region, “he turned aside to see the carcass of the lion, and behold there was a swarm of bees and honey in the carcass of the lion.” And upon this incident he founded the riddle which he “put forth” to his companions; “out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong come forth sweetness.” This is, in truth, the riddle which the Sphinx proposes to man’s mind in all ages. Out of the fierce wars whose office is to rend, and destroy, and devour, there comes forth a better social condition of the world for man. You may say, my hearers, that this is a sad view to take of human affairs. I will not dispute with any on that point. It is sad, awfully mysterious. But we need not on that account, shut our eyes to the plain facts of life.

Moreover in regard to war, the question deserves attention, what constitutes its real evil, in the eye of the Christian moralist? We commonly confine our attention to its external signs and effects. The millions of treasure which it helps to squander, the suspension of useful arts which it occasions, the blood which it causes to be shed, the pillage, depopulation, misery, which follow in its train, these are usually set forth as the saddest signs and fruits of war. But if we view the subject from the highest ethical point of observation, it is not these external evils we shall look to, so much as to the passions out of which war springs, and which it helps to create and cherish. A Christian apostle asks, “From whence come wars and fightings? Come they not from hence, even from your lusts?” War is passion embodied in the terrific action of contending hosts. But are there no lusts and passions raging in men’s bosoms in time of peace? In a purely ethical point of view, is there much to choose between the rivalries of opposite factions and sects, the bitter feuds of social life, the brood of viperous passions that are engendered in a state of what we call peace, and the martial sentiments which inflame men on the field of battle? Are not the evils which accompany war made less by reason of the discipline which is essential to an armed host among civilized nations? Compare the warfare of two hostile Indian tribes, those Nimrods of the prairie, meeting each other in small bodies, each man singling out his adversary, and directing against some individual the fury of his whole wrath; or the battles narrated with so much spirit by Homer, which are in fact a series of personal encounters of the fiercest kind; compare these with the maneuvers and conflicts of modern armies in civilized nations, disciplined in a scientific manner, whose missiles of destruction take effect at great distances, and I presume it will be allowed that, although there may be greater sacrifice of life, in civilized warfare, (yet that is not always the case, if we take into view the comparative numbers engaged) there is less exasperation of spirit, less of ferocious passion awakened, less of brutal inhumanity, less of wanton waste of blood from the cruel love of shedding blood, than in the combats of savages or of classical heroes. And is this consideration not worthy of any regard. Does it make no difference in our ethical judgment of two scenes? Is it no gain in a moral point of view, that the improvement of military science makes a battle depend more upon skill in maneuvers, than on a desperate, malevolent, and revengeful struggle between matched foeman?

The abolition of war is far less important, in a moral point of view, than the object which Christianity aims to effect, which is to moderate and soften those dispositions of which war is an outward expression, and only one expression. The “action of the tiger” in war is no more opposed to Christianity than the stealthy venom of the serpent in time of peace. The history of the Christian Church even exhibits not a little of the war-spirit rankling in the breasts of those who have had words of peace and love upon their lips. Out of the hearts of two theological disputants, who boast that they war not with carnal weapons (though it is not easy to see why the tongue is not a carnal weapon; the Psalmist speaks of those whose tongue was a sharp sword) if there were any method of extracting the gall and malice with which they are actuated, there might be procured of anger, hatred and revenge enough to sustain quite a long campaign of modern field service. Nor if one were seeking for models of the true Christian spirit, would he be advised to go into the stormy assemblies of modern reformers, where a person must substantiate his claim to be a philanthropist by pronouncing the shibboleth of abuse.

It is alleged by some that the use of force is inconsistent with the Christian Religion, which commands its disciples to love their enemies, and to overcome evil with good. But those who produce these precepts with a view to show the unlawfulness of that particular exhibition of force which is seen in war, do not go far enough. The principles from which they reason would carry them much farther than they are inclined to go. The only persons who can consistently use these and similar Christian precepts literally, are the advocates of non-resistance, those who are opposed to any government on a compulsory principle. If any are disposed to retain the Navy of the country, “as a part of the police of the seas,” while they reason against all war as inconsistent with Christianity, where is their consistency, and what becomes of the principle which they start from? What right has any country, according to their interpretation of the Christian precepts, to establish such a “police of the seas?” Why seek to “purge the seas of pirates,” by the strong force of a naval armament? Why attempt to put down “the hateful traffic in human flesh,” by firing into the vessels employed in this traffic, and thus putting at hazard the lives of the innocent and guilty? Is the pirate to be excluded from Christ’s law of forgiveness? Is the slave-dealer not a man, that those who are in favor of a strict construction of the Christian rules, cannot give him the benefit of the command to “love our enemies?”

Besides, if the precept “love your enemies” is to be taken literally and applied to public national affairs, it is plain that it must be applied to criminal law, that it must overthrow the whole fabric of penal jurisprudence, nay, it will be found to be opposed to all legal measures for redressing wrongs or maintaining human rights. If we must take literally the precepts “Love your enemies,” and “overcome evil with good,” what right have you to incarcerate the incendiary, the highway robber, the forger, the homicide? Not only the gallows must be torn down, but the question will recur, with all its original force to a conscience formed on such a construction of the Christian rules,—what right have you, on your principles, to save a human being’s life, merely that you may immure him in a stone cage; that you may take from him his liberty, which ought to be dearer to every person than life; that you may separate him from wife and children, whom he has sworn before God to support; that you may deprive him, for a term of years, perhaps during life, of the rights of a citizen; that you may shut him up with companions whose society is likely to be demoralizing, which perhaps may kill what little remains of vitality his soul and conscience may have retained?

But again, if he who consents to enjoy the fruits of crime be in part responsible for it, then it may be asked of the ultra peace men of our day, how they can justify themselves in foro conscientiae, in continuing to use whose institutions, and to enjoy those rights and privileges which have been purchased in past ages, and for which was paid the price of blood? The conscientious anti-slavery man refuses to sweeten his meals with the sugar which has been produced by the lash-stimulated labor of the negro slave of the tropics. And why should the equally conscientious anti-war man be willing to enjoy the freedom, the political privileges, the liberty to worship God in the way that he may judge right? This freedom, and these social blessings were won for us in former times by men clad in mail, with drawn swords in their hands, contending in mortal combat for the rights which they faithfully transmitted to posterity. Who ever heard of a person, by reason of his conscientious principles, his abhorrence of all war, abjuring is country, giving up home and all the social blessings he has enjoyed from his youth, and all because these blessing were procured for us, as they certainly were, on the field of battle, and at the cannon’s mouth? Among the many forms of extravagance that abound in our day, why is it that we never hear of an instance of this kind?

The Discourse thus far has aimed to show that there is a place for Force in the appointments of Providence; that it is only in such an imaginary Commonwealth as Gonzalo pictures, there is “no sovereignty;” and that if it be lawful and consistent with Christianity to employ force in upholding social order, and restraining crime, it may be used too in maintaining the independence of a nation, or in defending it from invasion. But our general speculations on the subject of Force and War need not prevent our opposition to an unnecessary, an unjust, and an inglorious war. One feature in the Reform movements of our day is the disposition to adopt the most extravagant general doctrines, for the sake of bringing to bear upon special evils the greatest amount of indignant and condemnatory sentiment. But this fails, as all intellectual, as well as all pious frauds, always must fail, of affecting the object for which they are resorted to. The finds of moderate, sober, honest persons, who love the truth, the exact truth, the whole truth, and who are disposed to rest content when they have obtained the whole, without seeking for more, such minds feel that a deception has been practiced upon them, when advantage has been taken of their real love of any good cause, or of their sincere wish to remove any acknowledged evil, to oblige them to endorse general doctrines which they do not esteem sound and true, which they perhaps detest.

But if there be, as the Discourse has endeavored to show, a place for Force, in the arrangements of Providence, there is also a place, and a much higher place for Reason. The influence which the great lawgiver exerts upon the world, by the laws and institutions which he frames, is surely of a better kind and entitled to more honor, than the skill of the great captain, who plans enterprises, and conducts men in disciplined masses, inspired with his sentiments, and obedient to his will, to the execution of his purposes. The declaration of the inspired volume finds an echo in every sound mind, when it says,—that “wisdom is better than weapons of war;”—that wisdom by which “kings reign, and princes decree justice;” which is described by the ancient Hebrew sage, as “the breath of the power of God,—the brightness of the everlasting Light, the unspotted mirror of the power of God,” as “more beautiful than the sun, and above all the order of stars;” that large, comprehensive wisdom, which looks before and after, which includes, in one survey, a wide field of objects and relations, which turns, by a well-timed word or act, the tide of events, which founds institutions whose plastic influence is felt by remote generations. “In Orpheus’s theatre,” says Lord Bacon, “all beasts and birds assembled, and forgetting their several appetites, some of prey, some of game, some of quarrel, stood all sociably together, listening to the airs and accords of his harp, the sound whereof no sooner ceased, or was drowned by some louder noise, but every beast returned to his own nature, wherein is aptly described the nature and condition of men, who are full of savage and unreclaimed desires of profit, of lust, of revenge, which as long as they give ear to precepts, to law, to religion,—so long is society and peace maintained; but if these instruments be silent, all things dissolve into anarchy and confusion.”

If the influence of Force, as employed and directed by the military leader, be most speedy and brilliant in its results, the influence of Reason or Wisdom in law, and social institutions, is most enduring. What memorials are there in the world of ancient Rome? 1 “Its martial glory,” to use the words of another, “has long since departed, but the ‘eternal city’ still continues to rule the greatest part of the civilized and Christian world, through the powerful influence of her civil codes. In every civilized country of Europe, the Scandinavian nations and England excepted, the Roman civil law either formed the original basis of the municipal jurisprudence, or constitutes a suppletory code of ‘written reason,’ appealed to where the local legislation is silent, or imperfect, or requires the aid of interpretation to explain its ambiguities.”

The ancient Scriptures furnish a striking illustration of the two kinds of greatness we are comparing, in the history, which they record, of the two nations that sprang from Esau and Jacob. Esau was a “cunning hunter;” and he afterwards became a successful military chief. He possessed himself, by force, of Mount Seir, established there a splendid military authority, and left to succeed him, a line of dukes and kings, who built for themselves a safe, and, for a long time, an impregnable fortress “in the clefts of the rock.” But what is there left now to testify of Edom? They who lifted themselves up as the eagle, and who set their nest among the stars, were long since brought low. The fierce scream of that mountain eagle was long ago silenced. And when, as a people, they passed away, they left no perceptible influence upon the world; there is nothing to show how great they once were, in any institutions, any modes of thought, any social, political, religious, moral principles, left by them as a legacy to after times. Nothing of Edom remains except the rocky city which still stands, without inhabitants, in the desert, to convince the awe-struck traveller of the truth of God’s prophetic denunciations.

Jacob too, was the father of a nation, but how different in its character and destiny, and influence upon the world, from that we have been contemplating! As different as were the personal qualities and habits of their respective founders. The Patriarch Jacob was a man of mild and gentle disposition. He “dwelt in tents;” he led a regular life, a life of quiet industry, that served to moderate the passions, that encouraged thought and reflection. His pursuits, instead of exciting and inflaming, sobered and calmed the mind, and gave room for reason and the higher sentiments to operate. While employed as a shepherd or as a “tiller of the ground,” he would receive into his soul the bland and awful influences of Nature; there would be stamped upon his mind an image of the order, regularity, obedience to fixed laws, which mark the works of God; he would experience the full power of the religious sentiment; he would see visions of angels ascending and descending above his head; he would make covenants with his unseen Guide and Protector; he would set up pillars of stone to mark as sacred, the spots where his mind had been elevated and inspired by religious ideas and emotions. And the peculiar character which was in this way formed would be communicated to his descendants. The people that traced their origin back to the Patriarch Jacob, were eminently religious, and they were governed by fixed laws. The whole civilized world has been influenced by Hebrew thoughts and principles. “Out of Jacob came the star” which still shines to guide the nations, and “out of Israel came the scepter” which is destined to bear sway through the earth.

Thus it is that Reason perpetuates itself, while Force, however violent, soon comes to an end and leaves no trace upon the world. Reason may be likened to the “still small voice,” which the Prophet heard in the holy mountain. Long after the fire, and the strong wind, and the earthquake of human passions have wasted their violence and died way in silence, the whisper of God comes down through the ages, and is heard by all listening minds to the end of time.

And if those individuals deserve honor who legislate for particular portions of the human race, still more highly should they be ranked whose large and comprehensive genius investigates the principles of general law or international morality. International law, or the extension of the rules of truth, justice and fidelity, which are acknowledged to be binding among individuals, to nations in their mutual intercourse, is the growth of modern times. It marks the Christian era of the world’s history. 2

The science of international law is, as yet, but in its infancy. Its future improvement opens to the vision of the mind a condition of the world that shall approximate nearer and nearer to the picture which prophecy has drawn of universal and perpetual peace.

While any positive institution, such as a Congress of nations, which has been proposed for the settlement of national questions, is open to strong objections on the ground that it would be likely to interfere with the independence of separate States, the labors of individual writers, whose genius qualifies them to codify the notions of justice and right which are recognized by all minds, such labors are sure to produce good results. 3 “If, says a writer on international law, “the international intercourse of Europe, and the nations of European descent, has been marked by superior humanity, justice, and liberality, in comparison with the usages of the other members of the human family, they are mainly indebted for this glorious superiority to those private teachers of justice, to whose moral authority sovereigns and states are often compelled to bow.”

An apology for war has very frequently grown out of the want of some acknowledged rule or standard of public right and justice, by which nations shall try their differences. This is a want which it is the happy tendency of civilization to supply more and more. The extended and still increasing intercourse which commerce and Christian enterprise are encouraging, among the inhabitants of different lands, helps to form a treasury of common moral ideas, ideas of what is right and just and true; and thus are collected the materials which constitute a universal reason, a world-opinion, a catholic conscience; and the stronger this becomes, the more likely will it be to supersede brute force in the adjustment of national differences. Already this moral world-power, which was wholly unknown to ancient civilization, has acquired a mighty weight. And I would ask to what work so noble, so truly worthy of the acutest, profoundest, and most comprehensive intellect, can the attention of the publicist of our day be directed, as to the task of giving form and body to the loose ideas of public right and duty that are floating in men’s minds, and which, if brought together and digested into a consistent system, could not fail of exerting a powerful and benign influence upon the destinies of mankind? That statesman or political moralist who invents a happy form of speech for fitly expressing, making current and portable, those convictions of justice and right which belong, in the ore, to all human minds, confers an incalculable benefit upon the world. “How forcible,” says the Scripture, “are right words.” “Like apples of gold in pictures of silver.”

He who puts a principle of public justice and international morality into such a shape, by the help of verbal statement, as to command assent from the minds of men educated in different countries, and under the most various, perhaps opposite influences,—who makes the principle harmonize with their convictions, and who thus gives truth the force of law to human beings in the most distant regions of the earth,—he is really the king, the ruler of his fellows. He bears sway in the world, not indeed by any visible presence, not because seated in any chair of state, not with visible tokens and insignia of authority, but by the secret, irresistible influence which he exerts upon men’s minds, upon the sources of action. And I trust I may be allowed, without the charge of impropriety, to say, in this connection, that the services of that distinguished individual, who, while occupying the office to which pertained the foreign relations of the country, adjusted a controversy of long standing with the most powerful nation on the globe, and whose pen, in that critical juncture, was the wand of Prospero allaying the tempest of war, will not, it is to be feared, be appreciated as they deserve, till an impartial posterity shall assign him the place he will occupy among the benefactors of his age.

I say, then, and will not my audience join me in this sentiment, if we must elevate above the level and measure of common mortals any human being, let it be, no the Military Leader, not the Joshua’s of the past or of the present, but the Lawgiver, who moulds the institutions of a people, and gives them an individual existence, or the moral Teacher who communicates to the souls of men universal truth, and who thus becomes the Founder of a universal empire. And this, we find, to be in fact the direction which men’s men’s sentiments have, in the long run, taken. It is Moses the Lawgiver who, in the conceptions of the world, “saw God face to face.” It is Christ, who became, in men’s belief, a part of the very Deity. If any be disposed to regard these judgments as extravagant, it must yet be allowed to be an error on the right side. If we must call it so, the mythology of Israel and of Christendom is of a far higher and more excellent kind than the mythology of Greece and Rome, which deified brute force and military valor.

Finally, while Force is the agent employed by the Military Leader, and Reason or Intelligence is appealed to by the Lawgiver, Christianity relies upon Love. Christianity, by this principle of universal love which it inculcates, by this spirit of humanity which it breathes into the soul, lays the foundation of a kind international sentiment, which cannot but modify the relations of different countries to each other, and prevent the growth of those bitter prejudices and antipathies which are sure to find bloody expression in war. The Christian precept which commands its disciples to love their enemies, that is, not to allow their hearts to harbor so much hatred and hostility to any human being, let his acts and deserts be what they may, as to be unable to exercise towards him, should there be occasion, the offices of justice, benevolence, mercy,—this precept has sometimes been objected to by unbelievers as impracticable, and such reasoners have made the precept an argument against the claims of our Religion. But if we consult History we find the great truth illustrated, that, in exact proportion as men have approximated to the temper of this precept, has been the progress of civilization and social advancement. In the savage state we seldom, if ever, meet with large nations, a great number of inhabitants living together in peace under the shelter of a common government. But they are cut up into petty tribes, few in number, ranged under their respective chieftains, and perpetually at war with each other. This has always been the case with the aboriginal inhabitants of our continent. They present to our view the picture of society broken into a great number of fragments. On the other hand it is the office of civilization, and especially of Christian civilization, to collect together these fragments, to unite them into one compact body, to multiply the ties and relations that make them one. In a Christian community men, instead of standing isolated, or in narrow circles, eyeing with jealousy and hatred all beyond that narrow line, are grouped together by millions and hundreds of millions, and their hearts learn to expand, their affections reach abroad widely, their sentiments become large, and comprehensive. And there cannot manifestly, be any large nation, without an approach to the sentiment of universal love which the Divine Religion of Christ inculcates. In accordance with this cardinal precept of love, it is the noble aim of Christianity, without interfering directly in political or civil arrangements, and without prescribing any form of polity, or establishing any visible kingdom, to form a communion of man with man the world over, irrespective of place of birth, of color, or of race. And our best hope for the world must be that this Christian idea of communion, of a community, may be realized more and more perfectly. It has already proved fatal to many of the odious inequalities and oppressions that have afflicted our race. Christianity was sure, if its doctrines and maxims were received, to result in free political institutions. And the more fully the Christian idea of communion is understood and acted on, the stronger, more permanent, and safer will be the basis upon which society will rest. Stronger than all external bands of mere force, is that communion of feeling which grows out of the love which our Religion inspires.

In the early period of the history of society, the sentiment is quite weak. Communion, or what resembles it, is known only among the members of the same family circle, or of the same tribe. In course of time the sentiment extends, and becomes the binding principle of neighborhoods and small societies. Then it extends still farther and becomes the basis and cement of large Commonwealths. And finally the sentiment grows so as to link together the inhabitants of different countries, and it is a cheering fact that this international sentiment, this communion of man with man, exists as an element of modern society, and that it is continually growing stronger. Nor let it be imagined that the Christian principle of love has yet reached its full, intended expansion. The enlarged and still enlarging intercourse of the human race must effect changes in the condition of man upon the earth, and of governments in their relations to each other, the nature of which we cannot foresee or predict. It will be likely to modify essentially men’s notions of patriotism, of exclusive allegiance to any one government, and of national independence, ideas which have hitherto been held with a jealous tenacity.

But whatever may be our particular speculations on these points, we cannot refuse to entertain the vision, which has ever been seen by hopeful minds, of a period, in the coming ages, of perpetual and universal peace, when the trumpet shall be hung in the hall, no more to bray its harsh summons to conflict, when the arts of peace, the earth over, shall “beat men’s swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” Grant, if you will, that this is but a vision, a dream of philanthropy. That is no reason why it should be sneeringly rejected. It has gladdened and strengthened the hearts of the good and of the wise too, in every generation. Blot out, if any are bold enough so to do, from the pages of Scripture, the prophesy which foreshows this blessed era, still some similar promise would before long, be uttered from the depths of man’s soul. That soul is ever prophetic of good, through the principle of hope which God has implanted in it. Tossed as human beings are on a flood of restless, boisterous waters, hope brings to the ark, in which the interests of the race are floating, a sign of some Ararat on which man shall rest at last, and the bow of God upon the black cloud is cheering token of serene skies that are yet to smile upon the world. We cannot afford to dismiss this hope from our hearts.

Gentlemen of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company, if I were to assert that our fathers were the authors of and deserve the credit of originating a citizen-soldiery, some perhaps might not assent to the entire truth of such a claim, And yet, if it must be conceded that they only continued in use what had existed to some extent, and in a certain form, in their native country, we may certainly claim for them what is, practically considered, as important and as honorable to their character, that they gave a prominence and assigned an office to the institution of a citizen-soldiery, by making it a substitute for a standing army, which it had never had before. It was a favorite idea with them to train a body of men, who, without making war a trade, without foregoing the peaceable pursuits of industry, without dropping the character, the manners, the sentiments of citizens and of Christians, should yet be enrolled in bands of convenient size, and learn the use of arms, and submit to the necessary subordination and discipline of an armed host, and be ready, on any exigency and in a righteous cause, not for the sake of fighting, but because a sacred duty to the common weal impelled them, to practice their acquired skill, and to put to hazard their lives. If this was, for all practical purposes, a new thing among the nations, if the Puritan settlers of this Continent brought into use an instrument for maintaining social order and stability, which should effect the good objects proposed, without incurring the danger which had usually accompanied a resort to force, then, gentlemen, your Company, which was the first enrolled on this continent, is deserving of honorable mention in the history of civilization. Your anniversary, in that case, deserves to be noticed, not merely as the annual and pleasant gathering of a band of friends, but as one of the signs marking the opening of a new era in the progress of man. If we can say of the Fathers of New England, that they were the authors of the free Common School, for the instruction of the children of the people, and that they entrusted to the people themselves, their own defence as citizen-soldiers, then have they given to the world two institutions which have exerted an incalculable influence in favor of the prosperity, the improvement, the Christian peace and stability of modern society.

We will honor them for this. And we will hope and pray that the place which they assigned to military talent, as compared with other higher and more sacred forms of service to society and humanity, may ever accord with the sentiment of New England.

 


Endnotes

1. Wheaton’s History of International Law.

2. Among the Greeks and Romans a foreigner was regarded as a barbarian and an enemy, and was treated accordingly. With the Hebrews, foreigners were all included under a common term of reproach as Gentiles, and if they escaped hatred and contempt, were not placed upon an equality with the chosen people.

3. Wheaton’s History of International Law.

*Originally Published: December 20, 2016.

Sermon – New Planet – 1847


Cyrus Augustus Bartol (1813-1900) graduated from Harvard divinity school in 1835. He was a co-pastor with Charles Lowell at the West Church in Boston in 1837 and became the sole pastor of that church in 1861.


sermon-new-planet-1847

THE
NEW PLANET:

Or,

AN ANALOGY

Between the

PERTURBATIONS OF MATTER AND SPIRIT.

A

SERMON,

BY
C. A. BARTOL,
JUNIOR MINISTER OF THE WEST CHURCH, IN BOSTON.

SERMON.

Proverbs xvi. 11. A just weight and balance are the Lord’s.

The public attention has been lately much drawn to the discovery of a new planet, in that system of the heavenly bodies, to which our earth belongs. This remarkable fact has been the subject of many scientific comments. It may also however be regarded in various religious aspects. I know not that it has been considered in the point of view now proposed, as presenting an analogy between the material and moral universe. But this analogy is so perfect, so fixed in the principle and manner of the discovery, and leads to views so consolatory, as well as instructive, that we may profitably trace it.

“A just weight and balance are the Lord’s.” His creation is but an exact balance of worlds. Planets orderly revolving at various proportionate distances about the sun, lesser moons and satellites, in orbits as precise, moving round the planets, and the whole solar system as it were one single globe, rolling obedient to some mighty centre, which a late astronomer professes to have descried in the depths of the starry space.

For a considerable number of years, it had been supposed, that the solar system, of which our world is part, was all brought into the field of view and scientific knowledge; one bright body after another, with perhaps its attendant orbs, having revealed its station to the observer’s eye, nearer to, or farther from the sun,—from Mercury thirty-six millions of miles distant, to Herschel at the astonishing remoteness of more than eighteen hundred millions. And at length the heavenly lyre, to use a favorite figure with astronomical authors, was thought to be complete,—the planet Herschel being the last chord in this glorious harmony to the Creator’s praise. But still another note is now added, in the discovery of a new world vastly exceeding in size that appointed for our mortal dwelling. It is the principle and mode of this discovery, which I wish to note, as suggesting the analogy to which I have referred.

Le Verrier, the sagacious explorer of the celestial spheres, to whom we owe this great achievement of the age, was led into the track of the new planet, by detecting some perturbations. The perturbations of a planet are deviations or diversions from its regular separate course about the centre, which are occasioned by the attraction of other bodies. It was at first thought, these perturbations would finally derange the universe, and bring into inextricable confusion and destructive chaos that whole portion of nature in which we are placed.

But further insight into the process, by which these mighty masses of matter are drawn or driven along their glittering pathways, has shown that God’s creation is fashioned wiser than man’s fearful supposition, and that the compensations for these disturbances are so wonderfully wrought out, that the very mingling and apparent clashing of almost innumerable forces preserves the equilibrium of the whole, and, so far as we can see, will secure the stability of the universe. Of the perturbations however in question there had been no previous explanation.

But the question arose in the explorer’s mind, as through the lenses of his searching tube he gazed on that bright sphere, so long supposed to tread on the very verge and outermost circle of those stars that sing together in our little sister-band of God’s infinite family of worlds,—as he gazed and, with his armed, instructed eye, saw it tremble and sway from the line it should in obedience to the sun and its fellow travelers maintain, the question arose, what affection it could feel to make it thus lean aside; and, with a bold prudence, he judged that it must have beyond some other companion, which human eye had not yet seen. He scans these perturbed inclinations more exactly, measures their amount, ascends to their adequate cause, and though that cause still lay darkly ranging on, with to earthly vision undiscernible luster, he yet predicts its place, and course, and time of arrival into the focus of human sight. His prediction is recorded, to be entertained by some, or incredulously smiled at by others.

But lo! In due time the stranger comes as announced, to fulfill this “sure prophetic word” of the divinely inspired understanding of man; and a glorious new world swims into his telescopic view, sailing on the farthest rim of solar attraction, more than three thousand millions of miles away,—a world immense in its proportions as compared with this narrow surface of human action and passion. It comes and sets up its blue, brilliant disc in the heavens, in addition to the broad, lustrous face of Jupiter, the shining ring of Saturn, the soft beauty of Venus, and the red shield of Mars.

“A just weight and balance are the Lord’s.” I believe we may with equal justice say, as we examine the order and observe the perturbations of the moral universe. The motions and trembling and disturbances of the human heart also refer to a world beyond.

The disorders and wrongs and sufferings of human life demand a rectification and balance, as much as the swayings and wanderings of a material orb. For God is a spirit. His nature is essentially moral, and He cannot have made the moral and spiritual system of things less perfect than his outward and coarser handiwork. Let us consider, then, some of these moral perturbations, and inquire what the compensation must be.

And first, there is a perturbation of the human heart in view of death, and, so far as we can see, it is peculiar to the human heart. The animal seems to have no proper fear of death; he knows nothing of that peculiar horror with which the soul of man starts back aghast from the gulf of annihilation. That horror and perturbation belong to the human nature. It is made a part of us by the Author of our nature. It is felt not by the bad and conscience-stricken only; but by the good and self-approving also. Indeed, in proportion as faithful culture has opened the nobler faculties and expanded the better affections towards God and man, it is felt more deeply.

What, then, is it that thus draws our heart aside from the orbit of mortality, and makes it unwilling to keep true to the line that leads only to the grave? Shall we not conclude, like the astronomer, that it is another world, another system of moral being, that attracts and claims fellowship with it, and sways it up and on, over the white mark of the inscribed tombstone,—a real world, though yet unseen by human eye,—a world more glorious than the present, though no ray of it has yet actually reached us—a world that shall yet at length swim out from the darkness and distance, in which it is now kept and mysteriously involved, and when the veil of blinding flesh is taken off, and our eye purged of these mists of mortal ignorance, rush into the field of vision, and to those who doubt or believe, appear as a majestic reality?

There is a second perturbation of the human heart in view of sin. It feels that it was made for holiness, that its true nature is not (as it has been called) evil and depraved, but that it is constituted of God to love and worship and be like Him. And yet it is aware how short it falls of the noble mark. It is led away by appetite and passion, it succumbs to the power of temptation, it is wounded and sorely scarred in its enlistments in the base service of sin, and it moves but halt and slowly in the race of well-doing and virtue which its Creator ordained.

But, note and confess this fact: it is not content thus; it mourns bitterly over its backwardness; it is remorseful at its transgressions; it repents of its excesses; it calls itself an outcast, an enemy of God, yea, a thing of shame and woe, in the extravagance of its sorer mortification; and yet, notwithstanding, even in its degradation, it cries out with inextinguishable hope, “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death!” for it feels, in the intensest experience which its consciousness reveals, that this guilty shame is not its appointed and final destiny. By the grace of God and its own conspiring it must be cleansed from these stains, whose defilement is eating into its life and destroying its peace.

It sees however the road to perfection running before it, no short, no smooth, no level pathway, but long, and rough, and interminably ascending; and if the date of mortal existence is its date, then it must fail of its destiny: aye, in its best, purest development,—in the most perfect of men, it is still short of the mark, as they, especially, with an honest sadness confess. Yes, if that quiet enclosure of the body’s resting-place, with its thick-strewn hillocks, over which the shadows play from the rustling leaves and creaking boughs of the trees,—if that be the term of all,—then there is a perturbation of the human heart, for which no compensation exists,—then there is a break in the order of Divine workmanship,—then the moral world is ajar and unbalanced, while the material world, in all its parts and systems, rolls on and sings, as it shines, in everlasting harmony,—then the heavy clouds of the narrow pit press down, not upon an exhausted and decaying organization merely, but upon the untimely interruption, upon the unaccountable failure, upon the miserable wreck of the finer and spiritual fabrics, the vessels of an excelling honor, launched on their career with the strongest and most determined impulse of the hand of Omnipotence; launched with yet loftier and farther reaching aims than those lustrous globes sailing on their eternal voyage through the heavens. But no! the very thoughts refuse to pursue the absurd and impious hypothesis. “A just weight and balance are the Lord’s.” And the moral explorer of God’s works, as well as the material, concludes upon the existence of another world,—though yet unseen by actual vision, another world to balance and complete the present. Does it not indeed lie off there in the depths of his power, held aloft steadily by His Almightiness, even as the sparkling sphere that rides inconceivably remote along its sure but trackless way through measureless space to adjust and finish the balance of the material creation?

Yes, thou swift traveller through the unfathomable deeps,—untraceable but by the wondrously marking pencil of science,—one of the morning stars that sang together over the fastened foundations and laid corner-stone of earth!—thou teachest me a lesson of my Maker’s justice, as rounding every mass, and with his plummet ruling every motion, and speeding along every imponderable beam of material splendor, to make His boundless universe perfect as a diamond-scale through all its vastness, finished exactly to the finest stroke and particle: and justice stopping?—oh no, not stopping in its marvelous quality and matchless workmanship there, but running on with equity as infallible into the moral world, into the soul of man. Thou seemest to speak with a never before perceived utterance, and from thy high post and divine watch-tower, (as though that were the purpose of thy discovery,) to declare that there is a spiritual eternity corresponding to the material infinity; that man’s observations and conceptions are not baseless illusions, but the figures and shadows of a transcendent and now incomprehensible reality; a reality not less but greater than our most enlarged and glowing fancy. And though mute, save in reason’s ear, thou dost prophesy to the faithful struggler with sin and temptation here, a suture freedom from these disturbances in a world to come!

There is one more perturbation of the human heart in the view of sorrow. Linked together by the strong and various affections of life, we might be almost indisposed to look beyond the revolutions of this earthly scene. But if we are tempted to feel thus, the severing of the links in the sweet chain of domestic and social love, and the disappearance of the objects to which our whole being tended, soon comes to disturb this worldly orbit in which we have moved, and then our hearts sway from the earthly line, and go in search of the beloved. They are still affected by those objects though invisible; and, with yearning desire, they feel after them, if haply they may find them. As even heathen fable represents men as penetrating to the shades below in search of those dear to them, so the heart, educated in a better school, soars into the brightness above after the forms of the departed. It is never quite at rest in this lower atmosphere after their removal. It forsakes its ordinary path of action, and diverges from its habitual track of meditation. It veers from its present ecliptic of being, however clear and sunny that earthly ecliptic may be. It feels the perturbation of sorrow! And is it a causeless and unmeaning perturbation, referring to no substance, but excited in us by the Author of our frame for our mere mockery, baffling, and torment? Is there nothing but a blank, rayless void beyond corresponding to it? Oh no—these beating and sorrow-perturbed hearts before me cry out, Not so! There is a world there, a world of splendor, an inhabited and social world, a world larger and more comprehensive than ours, a more spacious mansion in our Father’s great house—our home—and for all the faithful, Death, God’s angel, but waiting to open the door.

Oh, Death, even as we gaze at the clay-cold ruins thou haste made, we feel it is so. As we trace the surviving influence of the disinterested and good, we feel it is so. Truly may it be said of the “loved, revered and honored head” which thou takest, that, even as it lies low and still upon the bier, “thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious.” * * “Strike, shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the ground to sow the world with life immortal.” See, if thou canst, beyond thy dark precincts, the released spirit, from the solitary deathbed or from the whelming sea, wing its way on an endless career of excellence!

From the peaceful purity of private life, and even from the guilt-stained scenes of earth, come testimonies that this beating and perturbed heart of man is made for a loftier destiny.

When, on that southern field, where we are waging this deplorable war, the Mexican woman comes out with comforts in her hands for suffering friend and foe mingling together in conflict, and is shot down by a chance bullet, and the soldiers afterwards with a touched feeling suspend their deadly strife on the soil ploughed by the cannon-ball, to give her decent burial, (well reversing their arms to dig that grave!) who does not feel that the human heart, though passionate, and though polluted, is yet appointed to a greater fate beyond the dust of the valley?

Our subject suggests one reflection respecting that Christian faith, which answers our longing interrogations of the future, and confirms all our best reasonings.

It is strange that any of the spiritualizing philosophers of the day should be incredulous as to the miraculous works and resurrection of Christ,—these facts so congenially meet the mind in its loftiest flights into the regions of spiritual truth,—meet it, not to contradict, not to narrow, not to baulk, but to illuminate, to exalt, and carry on its researches. These facts are the very crown of the intellect and soul of man.

Our argument to-day has been a rational argument, suggested by nature and encouraged by Scripture. But it lands us on the firm shore of the Christian revelation. It ends at the shining sepulcher of Jesus. It brings us to his glorious ascension, not as an appearance portentous and disorderly in God’s universe, not as a history to be caviled at as monstrous, and gnawed by the tooth of a jealous, unbelieving criticism, but to be accepted, welcomed, as something most probable and natural for God to do. While our minds strive and reason, let us thank Him for this superhuman instruction on a point so momentous. Even as the observations of the astronomer turned supposition into fact in regard to the planet, so Jesus Christ has actually revealed the world which the human mind had conjectured and made calculations upon. By his works he is the verifier of man’s loftiest ideas. He has sailed across the gulf of time, and disclosed the continent of eternity; he has dispersed the mists of the grave, and unveiled the world of spirits. Human hope had earnestly longed for, human imagination had brightly pictured, human reason had almost foreshown, that unbounded continent that upper world, as the soul’s immortal habitation; but no Columbus of the earth or the heavens had actually discovered it. Jesus Christ visited its shores, and came back with the tidings of its real existence. It is no longer the bourn from which no traveller has returned. We may still trace the analogies that indicate, and make the rational calculations that predict, and draw the images in our fancy that adorn it. Yet let us not slight, but greet with grateful souls the confirmations of supernatural evidence, by which our Saviour manifests and makes it sure. The Christian does not deprecate examination of his faith. And yet, oh Doubt, and oh Scepticism, could you prove the omens of man’s immortality to be all empty and salacious, boast not your triumph!

“Let wisdom smile not on her conquered field,
No rapture dawns, no treasure is revealed,”

as you dig the pit in this universal grave of the earth’s crust, and bury all the beauty, all the goodness, all the glory of the world! Boast not, smile not, but hang the head in sorrow and shame as you tell your melancholy story. But no! these omens cannot be made hollow to the human soul. Especially that great and wondrous omen, (but the climax of an ascending series,) of our Lord’s broken tombstone, will be significant forever. It meets indeed the perturbations of the human heart, to make them quiet and peaceful. It turns those perturbations into predictions. Whether our minds are excited or unexcited, whether our reasonings are strong or feeble, whether our imaginations glow or darken, this great omen of a risen Redeemer still cheers us. For it brings that future world out of the darkness in which it had revolved, to roll in celestial splendor to every believer’s eye, and gleam with inextinguishable promise to all generations.

Sermon – Moral Uses of the Sea – 1845


Horace Bushnell (1802-1876) graduated from Yale in 1827. He taught school briefly before being qualified for the bar (1831) but decided to study theology instead and became minister of the North Congregational Church in Hartford (1833-1853). Bushnell preached this sermon on board a ship in 1845.


sermon-moral-uses-of-the-sea-1845

A DISCOURSE

ON THE

MORAL USES OF THE SEA.

DELIVERED ON BOARD THE

PACKET-SHIP VICTORIA, CAPT. MORGAN,

AT SEA, JULY, 1845.

BY HORACE BUSHNELL, D.D.

PUBLISHED BY
REQUEST OF THE CAPTAIN AND PASSENGERS.

 

Having been requested, in the absence of the Author, to superintend the printing of this Discourse, I venture to promise the reader no ordinary gratification and delight; and to express my admiration that a performance so full of thought, and life, and beauty, should have been thrown off, at the moment, on the ship-board.

THOS. H. SKINNER.

 

October 13, 1845.

 

DISCOURSE.
Genesis i. 10.—“And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called the Seas: And God saw that it was good.”

Not a few have wondered why God, in creating a world for habitation of man, should have chosen to hide three-fourths of its surface under a waste of waters. Doubtless it had been as easy for him to have made it a good round ball of meadow and plough-land. The field where leviathan plays might as well have been given to the reaper: the fickle domain of waters might as well have been erected into a firm continent of land, and covered with flourishing and populous empires. Why, then, asks the inquisitive thought of man, why so great waste in the works of God? why has He ordained these great oceans, and set the habitable parts of the world thus islanded between them? Why spread out these vast regions of waste, to suppress the fruitfulness and stint the populousness of his realm?

That He has done it we know. We also know his opinion of the arrangement—God saw that it was good. This should be enough to check all presumptuous judgments and over curious questions: God has done it, and in His view it is good.

Still, if our object be not to judge God, but to instruct ourselves, the whole field is open, and we may inquire at pleasure. And now that we are out upon this field of waters, cut off from the society of man, and from all the works of God, save the waters themselves, it cannot be inappropriate to inquire, What is the meaning and use of the sea? For what beneficent end or object may we suppose the Almighty Creator to have ordained its existence?

Were this question put by the natural philosopher, he would proceed at once to show that the sea tempers the climate of the land, making the heat less intense and the cold less rigorous; that the sea is a great store-house of provisions in itself, and also of waters for the land, without which even that were unfruitful; and many other things of a like nature, all of which may be true, and yet it cannot be said, with any confidence, that God could not have tempered the climate of the land as well, and made it as fruitful, without the sea.

It is only when we look at the moral uses of the world, its uses in the discipline of mind and character, where the free will of man, if it is to be preserved in its freedom, requires that God should condescend to particular means and expedients—it is only here that we seem to grasp those imperative and momentous reasons which can be said, with most confidence, to have determined God’s arrangement in the matter we are considering. Indeed, there is a kind of impropriety in considering physical ends or causes s being, in any case, the final causes of God’s works; for to God there is, in strict reason, no final cause but virtue or moral good. To this all things are subordinate; for this all things are done. When we say that the world is made for the habitation of man, we do not mean, if we rightly understand ourselves, that it is made to contain as many men as possible, in as much of plenty and ease as possible. In that case, most manifestly, God should have made as many acres of good productive land as possible; nay, He should have made the earth as large as possible. Having it for his problem to raise the most numerous possible herd of men, He has only to enlarge his pasture. For the same reason, too, there should be no rigors of heat or of frost, no deserts, whether of sand or snow, no tempests, no fruitless seasons. Most manifestly the world is made to be the habitation of man, in some other and far different sense. Rather is it built to bless him as a moral creature, so ordered and fitted up that it shall most powerfully conduce to make him truly a man, a creature of intelligence, society, love and duty. Having this for his design, He has rather sought to limit than to extend the number of our race; for a school of virtue, you will observe, may be too large, as well as too easy, for the benefit of the pupil. Therefore, He gives us a small globe to inhabit, narrows down our field still farther by rigors of perpetual frost, and barren mountains, and oceans of water—all that He may bring us into compass and compression, and set us under the holy discipline of danger, toil and hardship; for these are the best, the only sufficient instruments of knowledge and character. To such a being as man, virtue can only be a conquest.

Prepared by views like these, let us go on to ask, What are the moral uses of the sea? Wherein does it appear to have been added for the moral benefit of the world?

I think it will appear, as we prosecute this inquiry, that the ordinance of the sea is so thoroughly interwoven with all that is of the highest interest to man—the progress of society, art, government, science and religion—in a word, all that is included in moral advancement—that, without the sea, the world could not be considered a fit habitation for man. Nor will it be difficult for you, I trust, to believe that when the Almighty smiled upon the waters and the land, and pronounced them good, He had some especial reference to the moral benefit of that being whose residence He was preparing.

One great problem of God, in building a school for man, was, how to distribute the school; for it is manifest that no one government, or society, could fill and occupy the whole domain—certainly not, without producing indefinite confusion and oppression, and sacrificing many of the most powerful stimulants to energy and advancement of every sort. Neither could it be done, without exalting the throne or governing power to such a pitch of eminence as would probably attract the religious homage of mankind, and set it at the head of a universal Lamaism. But if the world is to be distributed into nations, or kingdoms, which are likely to be always jealous of each other and sometimes hostile, they need to be separated by natural barriers, such as will prevent strife by circling them within definite boundaries, and, when they are in actual strife, will fortify them against destruction one from the other. This is effected, in part, by interposing mountains n driers, but more effectually, and on a larger scale, by spreading seas and oceans between them. These great bodies of water can be passed more easily for purposes of convenience than for those of destruction. Indeed, it is impossible for whole nations to pour across them for purposes of invasion, as across a mere geographical line. Nature is here the grand distributor and fortifier of nations. She draws her circle of waters, not around some castle or fortified citadel of art, but around whole nations themselves. Then it is within these fortified circles of nature, that nations are to unfold their power and have their advancement. Such was Greece, cut off from all the world by boundaries of rock and water, which no Xerxes with his invading army could effectually pass; having, at the same time, enough of strife and struggle within to keep her on the alert and waken all her powers to vigorous exercise. Such is England now. England, for so many ages past he foremost light of Europe, the bulwark of law, the great temple of religion, could never have been what it is, or anything but the skirt of some nation comparatively undistinguished, had not the Almighty drawn his circle of waters around it, and girded it with strength, to be the right hand of his power. It is the boundaries of nations, too, that give them locality and settle those historic associations which are the conscious life of society and the source of all great and high emotions; otherwise they fly to perpetual vagrancy and dissipation—there is no settlement, no sense of place or compassion, and, as nothing takes root, nothing grows. Thus the ancient Scythian, roaming over the vast levels of the north, is succeeded by the modern Tartar; both equally wild and uncultivated—the father of three thousand years ago and the son of today.

Again it will be found that the oceans and seas have sometimes contributed, beyond all power of estimation, to the moral and social advancement of the race, by separating one part of the world even from the knowledge of another, and preserving it for discovery and occupation at an advanced period of history. Had the territory of the United States been conjoined to the eastern shore of Asia, or the western of Europe, or had there been no oceans interposed to break the continuous circle of land, it is obvious that the old and worn-out forms of civilization would have wanted a spur to reform and improvement that is now supplied. When, at length, the New World was discovered, then was man called out, as it were, to begin again. The trammels of ancient society and custom, which no mere human power could burst, were burst by the fiat of Providence, and man went forth to try his fortunes once more, carrying with him all the advantages of a previous experience. I set up for the United States no invidious claim of precedence. We acknowledge our rawness and obscurity, in comparison with the splendor and high refinement of more ancient nations. We only claim it as our good fortune that we are a new nation, peopled by men of a new world, who had new principles to be tested, for the common benefit of mankind. As such the eye of the world is upon us, and has been for many years. The great thought of our institutions—the happiness and elevation of the individual man—is gradually and silently working its way into all the old fabrics of legitimacy in Christendom, and compelling the homage of power in all its high places. Whatever motion there has been in European affairs for the last half century—all the mitigations of law, the dynasties subverted, the constitutions conceded, the enlarged liberty of conscience and the press, popular education—everything that goes to make society beneficent—has been instigated, more or less directly, by the great idea that is embodied and represented in the institutions of the United States. This same great idea, the well-being and character of the individual man, has been brought forth, too, to offer itself to the world, just at the right time. Without it, we may well doubt whether the institutions of Europe had not come to their limit, beyond which they had not, in themselves, any power of advancement. Had it come earlier, Europe was not ready for it. The immense advantage that is thus to accrue to mankind, as regards the great interests of truth, society and religious virtue, from the fact that our Western Hemisphere was kept hidden for so many ages, beyond an impassible ocean, to be opened, in due time, for the planting and propagation of new ideas, otherwise destined to perish, no mind can estimate. Nor is this process of planting yet exhausted. There are islands in the Southern Oceans larger than England, that are yet to become seats of power and of empire, and possibly to shine as lights of Antarctic history eclipsing those of the north; or, if not eclipsing, giving to all the northern climes, both of the Eastern and Western Worlds, the experiment of new principles, needful to their progress and happiness.

But it is another and yet more impressive view of the moral utility of seas and oceans, that, while they have a disconnecting power operating in the ways first specified, they have at the same time a connecting power, bringing all regions and climes into correspondence and commercial interchange. Fortified by oceans and seas against injury from each other, they are yet united by the same for purposes of mutual benefit. Were there no seas, were the globe covered by a continuous sheet of land, how different the history of the past from what it has been! How different the moral and intellectual state of human society from what it now is! There being no medium of commerce, save that of land travel, no intercourse could exist between nations remote from each other. They would know each other only by a kind of tradition, as now we know the past. Tradition, too, in its long and uncertain transit across the longitude of the world, would clothe itself in fable, and we, instead of being made to feel the common brotherhood of man as now, should probably be fast in the belief that the opposite hemisphere of the world is peopled by giants, Centaurs, Anthropophagi, and such-like fabulous monsters. There would, of course, be no commerce, except between nations that are adjacent; and society, being life without motion or stimulus, would rot itself down into irredeemable bigotry and decrepitude. God would not have it so. On the ocean, which is the broad public highway of the Almighty, nations pass and re-pass, visit and revisit each other, and those which are remote as freely as those which are near. And it is this fluid element that gives fluidity and progress to the institutions and opinions of the race. It is only in the great inland regions of the world, as in Central Africa and Asia, that bigotry and inveterate custom have their seat. In these vast regions that never saw the sea, regions remote from the visits of commerce and the moving world, men have lived from age to age without progress, or the idea of progress, crushed under their despotisms, held fast in the chains of indomitable superstition, rooted down like their trees, and motionless as their mountains. In the mean time, the shores and islands of the world have felt the pulse of human society, and yielded themselves to progress. It is, in a word, this fluid sea, on whose bosom the free winds of heaven are wasting us to-day, which represents all mobility and progress in the human state. Without this interposed, the rock-based continents themselves were not more fixed than the habits and opinions of mankind. On the other hand, you will observe that the prejudices of men who live upon and by the waters are never invincible. They admit of change, somewhat by habit and association, as their element changes, and they shift their sail to the winds. Hence it was, in part, may we not believe, that our Saviour began his mission on the shores of Gennesaret, and among the boatmen there. Out of these, too, he chose his apostles, because they had the ductility requisite to receive new truths and new opinions of duty. Among them he had few prejudices to encounter, while at Jerusalem every mind was set against him with obstinacy as firm as the rocks of Zion. So it was never a Babylon, or a Timbuctoo, or any city of the inland regions, that was forward to change and improvement. But it was a Tyre, queen of the sea; a Carthage, sending out her ships, beyond the Pillars of Hercules, to Britain and the Northern Isles; an Athens, an Alexandria—these were the seats of art, and thought, and learning, and liberal improvement of every sort. So, too, it was the Italian commercial cities that broke up the dark ages, and gave the modern nations that impulse which set them forward in their career of art and social refinement, and, remotely speaking, of liberty.

The spirit of commerce, too, is the spirit of peace, its interest the interest of peace, and peace is the element of all moral progress, as war is the element of all barbarism and desolation. Every ship that sails the ocean is a pledge for peace to the extent of its value—every sail a more appropriate symbol of peace than the olive-branch itself. Commerce, too, has at length changed the relative position of nations. Once upon a footing of barbarism, they are now placed on a footing of friendship and civilization. In the most splendid days of Athens, piracy was a trade, not a crime; for it was the opinion that nations are naturally hostile, and will, of course, prey upon each other. But now, at length, commerce has created for itself a great system of international and commercial law, which, to a certain extent, makes one empire of all the nations, maintaining the rights of person and property, when abroad upon the ocean, or in other lands, as carefully and efficiently as if there were but one nation or people on the globe. Search the history of man, from the beginning till now, you will find among all the arts, inventions and institutions of the race, no one so beneficent, none that reveals so broad a stride of progress, as this. And it promises yet to go on, extending its sway, till it has given rules to all the conduct of nations, provided redress for all injuries, and thus lawed out forever all war from the earth.

The nations engaged in commerce will, of course, be the most forward nations. In perpetual intercourse with each other, they will ever be adopting the inventions, copying the good institutions, and rectifying the opinions, one of another; for the man of commerce is never a bigot. He goes to buy, in other nations, commodities that are wanted in his own. He is, therefore, in the habit of valuing what is valuable in other countries, and so, proportionally, are the people or nation that consumes the commodities of other countries. And so much is there in this, that the government, the literature, nay, even the religion of every civilized nation must receive a modifying influence from all the nations with whom it maintains an active commerce. In opinions, literature, arts, laws—nay, in everything—they must gradually approximate, till they coalesce, at last, in one and the same catholic standard of value and excellence. Commerce is itself catholic, and it seems to be the sublime purpose of God, in its appointment, to make everything else so, that, as all are of one blood, so, at last, they shall be one conscious brotherhood.

In the mean time, the nations most forward in art and civilization are approaching, by the almost omnipresent commerce they maintain, all the rude and barbarous nations of the world, carrying with them, wherever they go, all those signs of precedence by which these nations may be impressed with a sense of their backwardness, and set forward in a career of improvement. They need only be visited by the ships, or especially the steam-vessels, of European commerce, to see that they are in their childhood, and there must remain, except as they adopt the science and the institutions of European nations. What, consequently, do we behold? Not the wilds of Northern Russia only, not the islands only of the sea, becoming members of European laws, arts and manners—but the throne of Siam inquiring after the methods and truths of the West; all British India studying English, in a sense more real than the study of words; Muscat sending over to examine and copy our arts; both branches of the Mohammedan empire receiving freely, and carefully protecting, Christian travelers, and adopting, as fast as they can, the European modes of war and customs of society; China beginning to doubt whether she is indeed the Celestial Empire, and doomed, ere twenty years are gone by, to be as emulous of what is European as Egypt or Turkey now is. All this by the power of commerce. They feel our shadow cast on their weakness, and their hearts sink within them, as if they had seen a people taller than they. For the same reason, too, the false gods are trembling in their seats the world over, and all the strongholds of spiritual delusion shaking to the fall. The sails of commerce are the wings of truth. Wherever it goes (and where does it not?) the power of science, and of all that belongs to cultivated manhood, is felt. The universal air becomes filled with new ideas, and man looks out from the prison of darkness in which he has been lying, chained and blinded, sees a dawn arising on the hills, and feels the morning-breath of truth and liberty.

What I have said, thus far, is not so distinctively religious as some might expect in a Christian discourse. But you will observe that all which I have said, in this general way, of human advancement, as connected with the uses of the sea, involves religious advancement, both as regards knowledge and character. All the advancement, too, of which I have spoken, is, in one view, the work of Christianity; for this it is which has given to Christendom its precedence. And it is precisely the office of the Christian faith that it shall thus elevate and bless mankind—bless them, not in their devotions only, not in their sacraments, or in passing to other worlds, but in everything that constitutes their mortal life—in society, art, science, wealth, government—all that adorns, elevates, fortifies, and purifies their being. You will also perceive that the very tone of Christian piety itself, especially where it is not tempered, as in the United States, by the presence and toleration of all varieties of faith and worship, needs to be modulated and softened by the influence of a general intercourse with mankind; for such is the narrowness of man, that even the love of Christ itself is in perpetual danger of dwindling to a mere bigot prejudice in the soul; mistaking its mere forms for substance; becoming less generous in its breadth the more intense it is in degree; and even measuring out the judgment of the world by the thimble in which its own volume and dimensions are cast. The piety of the Church can never attain to its proper power and beauty till it has become thoroughly catholic in its spirit; a result which is to be continually favored and assisted by the influence of a catholic commerce. I do, indeed, anticipate a day for man, when commerce itself shall become religious, and religion commercial; when the holy and the useful shall be blended in a common life of brotherhood and duty, comprising all the human kindred of the globe.

Such an expectation, too, is the more reasonable, when you consider that commerce is so manifestly showing herself to be the handmaid of religion, by opening, as I just now said, the way for the universal spread of Christianity. It quells the prejudices of the natives, and shames away all confidence in their gods and institutions, and then the Church of God, as the ground is cleared, or being cleared, comes in to fill the chasm that is made, by offering a better faith. What, then, do we see, but that the ocean is becoming the pathway of the Lord? He is visiting the nations, and they shake before him! The islands give up first—the continents must follow! One thing is always sure—either commerce must fold up its sails, and the ocean dry up in its bed, (which few will expect,) or else every form of idolatry and barbarous worship must cease from the world. This I say apart from all the Christian effects and instrumentalities supplied by missions; for these are as yet insignificant, compared with those mighty workings of Providence whose path is in the sea. But if these precede, those must follow. As man is a religious being, God will never undertake to rob him of a false religion without giving him a better. Neither can any Christian mind contemplate the rapid and powerful changes which, in our day, have been wrought in the practical position of the heathen nations, without believing that some great design of Providence is on foot, that promises the universal spread of the Christian faith and the spiritual redemption of all the races of mankind. “Lift up thine eyes round about and see, all they gather themselves together come unto thee! The abundance of the sea shall be converted unto thee, the forces of the Gentiles shall come unto thee!”

The sea has yet another kind of moral and religious use, which is more direct and immediate. The liquid acres of the deep, tossing themselves evermore to the winds, and rolling their mighty anthem round the world, may be even the most valuable and productive acres God has made. Great emotions and devout affections are better fruits than corn, more precious luxuries than wine or oil. And God has built the world with a visible aim to exercise his creature with whatever is lofty in conception, holy in feeling, and filial in purpose towards himself. All the trials and storms of the land have this same object. To make the soul great, He gives us great dangers to meet, great obstacles to conquer. Deserts, famines, pestilences, walking in darkness, regions of cold and wintry snow, hail and tempest—none of these are, in his view, elements of waste and destruction, because they go to fructify the moral man. As related to the moral kingdom of God, they are engines of truth, purity, strength, and all that is great and holy in character. The sea is a productive element of the same class. What man that has ever been upon the deep has not felt his nothingness, and been humbled, for the time at least, of his pride? How many have received lessons of patience from the sea? How many here have bowed, who never bowed before, to the tremendous sovereignty of God? How many prayers, otherwise silent, have gone up, to fill the sky and circle the world, from wives and mothers, imploring his protecting presence with the husbands and sons they have trusted to the deep? It is of the greatest consequence, too, that such a being as God should have images prepared to express Him and set Him before the mind of man in all the grandeur of his attributes. These He has provided in the heavens and the sea, which are the two great images of his vastness and power; the one, remote, addressing itself to cultivated reason and science—the other, nigh, to mere sense, and physically efficient, a liquid symbol of the infinitude of God. We ourselves, upon it resting in peace or quailing with dread, as if wasted by his goodness, or tossed by the tremendous billows of his will. It is remarkable, too, how many of the best and most powerful images of God in the Scriptures are borrowed from the sea. “Canst thou by searching find out God? The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea.”—“Thy judgments are a great deep”—“Who shut up the sea with doors? I made the cloud the garment thereof, and brake up for it my decreed place, and set bars and doors, and said, hitherto shalt thou come and no further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.”—“Which alone spreadeth out the heavens and treadeth upon the waves of the sea.”—“Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the great waters.”—“The waters saw thee, O Lord, the waters saw thee; they were afraid, the depths also were troubled!” Every kind of vastness—immensity, infinity, eternity, mystery, omnipotence—has its type in the sea, and there is as much more of God in the world, for man to see and feel, as the sea can express, and as much more of worship and piety as there is of God.

Doubtless it will occur to some of you, that the moral and religious character of the seafaring race does not favor the view I have taken of the benefits accruing to mankind from the sea. This, however, is rather the fault of the land than of the water. It is here, on land, that the vices of the sea have their cause and sustenance. There is not a more open, fine-spirited race of beings on earth than the seafaring race. But when they reach the land, they are too much neglected by the good, and always surrounded by the wicked, who hasten to make them their prey. Latterly, more has been attempted for their benefit, and the results accomplished are such as cannot but surprise us. Far enough are they from hopelessness, if so great a change can be wrought in so short a time, by means so limited. Indeed, I might urge it as one of the best proofs of the mitigating and softening influence of the sea, that no dejected race of landsmen could ever have been made to show the effects of Christian effort and kindness so speedily, or by so many and fine examples of Christian character. And I fully believe that the time is at hand when all that pertains to commerce is to be sanctified by virtue and religion, as of right it should be; when the mariners will be blended with all the other worshipers on shore, in the exercise of common privileges, and as members of a common brotherhood; when the ships will have their Sabbath, and become temples of praise on the deep; when habits of temperance, and banks for saving, will secure them in thrift, and assist to give them character; when they will no more live an unconnected, isolated, and therefore reckless life, but will have their wives and children vested here and there, in some neat cottage among the hills, to be to them, when abroad, the anchor of their affections and the security of their virtue; when they will go forth, also, to distant climes and barbarous shores, with all their noble and generous traits sanctified by religion, to represent the beauty of Christ to men, and become examples of all that is good and beneficent in his Gospel. Be it ours to aid a purpose so desirable, theirs to realize it in their conduct and character.

I cannot better conclude, than by referring to a thought suggested by my text, and illustrated by my whole course of remark, viz. this: That God made the world for salvation. Even in that earliest moment, when our orb was rising out of chaos, and reeking with the moisture of a first morning, God is seen to have been studying the moral benefit and blessing of our race. He did not make the seas too large. He laid them where they should be. He swept their boundaries with his finger, in the right place. The floods lift up their voice, the floods lift up their waves, but they are not too furious or dangerous. The Lord on High is mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of the sea. God manages and guides this army of waters—every wave is in his purposes and rolls at his feet. He is over all as a God of salvation, and the field He covers with his waters He makes productive. When He called the dry land earth, and the gathering together of the waters called the seas, then had He in mind the kingdom of his Son, and the glory and happiness of a race yet uncreated. He looked—He viewed it again—He saw that it was good. And the good that He saw is the good that is coming, and to come, when the sea shall have fulfilled its moral purpose, and all kindred and people that dwell upon its shores shall respond to the ever-living anthem it raises to its Author. Then let the sea roar, and the fullness thereof, the world and they that dwell therein. Let the floods clap their hands, and the hills be joyful together before the Lord!

Sermon – Christmas – 1844

Christmas in Early America

In America’s early years, the celebration of Christmas was a subject of heated debate among Christians, and the lines between the opposing views were drawn largely according to church affiliation. Those from the High Church (e.g., Anglicans, Catholics, Episcopalians, etc., which practiced a more formal tradition of worship), tended to support Christmas celebrations, while those from the Low Church (e.g., Congregationalists, Baptists, Quakers, etc., which practiced a more informal mode of worship), tended to oppose that celebration.

The views of the two sides had largely been shaped by their own history in Europe. For example, the High Church, which had been the church of Europe for centuries before the first colonists came to America, celebrated Christmas. However, those from the Low Church had been persecuted by the High Church, particularly by the Catholic and Anglican Church, so the Low Church saw no reason that they should copy the festival of those that had so harshly persecuted them.

Interestingly, when European colonists came to America, those affiliated with the High Churches tended to settle in southern colonies such as Virginia, Maryland, and Carolina, while colonists from the Low Churches more frequently settled in northern colonies such as Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island.

Not surprisingly, therefore, the Virginia colony- affiliated with the Anglican Church- began celebrating Christmas from its very beginnings under Governor John Smith, but the Pilgrims and Puritans of Massachusetts- affiliated with the Congregational Church- refused to celebrate that day. In fact, their opposition to Christmas was so strong that for almost two centuries in Massachusetts, Christmas celebrations were not only discouraged but even forbidden by law.

The first state to make Christmas a state holiday was Louisiana (a southern state with a Catholic tradition) in 1837- a time when the resistance to Christmas in the north was just beginning to weaken. By the 1840s and 1850s, many more states began recognizing the holiday, and by 1870, Christmas celebrations had become so accepted that Christmas was even recognized by the federal government as a holiday.

The Christmas Sermon below was delivered in 1844- a time when the celebration was still a subject of hot debate among Christians across the nation. Preached by Robert Hallam, rector of St. James Episcopal Church in Connecticut (an area of the country still very resistant to recognitions of Christmas), the sermon is an apologetic in favor of Christmas celebrations. It addresses the arguments against celebrating Christmas and presents arguments in favor of such celebrations.

sermon-christmas-1844

CHRISTIAN HOLY-DAYS:

A

 

SERMON

 

Preached In

 

St. James’ Church, New-
London
;

Christmas- Day, 1844,

By Robert A. Hallam, Rector.

 

“I went with the multitude, and brought them forth into the house of God; in the voice of praise and thanksgiving, among such as keep holy-day.”- Psalm xlii: 4. 5. (Psalter.)

“To them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saint, with all that in every place call upon the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours:- Grace be unto you, and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.”- 1 Cor. 1: 1-3.

“He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord; and he that regardeth not the day, to the Lord he doth not regard it.”-Romans, xiv:6

The Apostle speaks here of the Jewish holy-days. By the abrogation of the Law these had fallen from their ancient dignity of things obligatory, into the humbler class of things indifferent. Their observance was no longer binding upon the conscience of any man. Expediency was the highest sanction it could claim. Liberty of opinion produced its usual result of diversity of judgment and intolerance.

Jewish Christians were dealt with indulgently, and allowed without hindrance or molestation to persevere in paying a sacred regard to those annual seasons, which the history of their nation, the example of their forefathers, and the habits of their own former lives had invested with so many venerable and endearing associations.- This was simple permission however. Not even Christian Jews were required to observe Mosaic holy days. And Christian Gentiles were decidedly dissuaded from it. Their adoption of the practice might seem to indicate obligation, represent it as a permanent law and institution of Christianity, and denote a dangerous learning to formality and superstition. Even in the case of the Jews the license was jealously watched and carefully guarded. Every disposition to elevate liberty into obligation, to magnify their privilege into a duty, to enforce conformity among themselves, still more to exact if of the Gentiles, was immediately noticed and repressed.

“Ye observe days, and months, and times, and years,” writes St. Paul to the Galatian Christians in a tone of solemn remonstrance and alarm, “I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labor in vain.” Of this freedom variety of opinion and usage was the natural fruit. Most Jews regarded the day; perhaps a few Gentiles. Some Jews disregarded the day; and the great body of the Gentiles. The difference was perfectly allowable and innocent, and ought to have created no disturbance of confidence or interruption of harmony. But the spirit of man is naturally prone to be uncharitable and dictatorial. He is not content with liberty, he aims at dominion. His own judgment is the infallible standard of truth, his own practice the unquestionable rule of rectitude. He would fain be a pope and a despot, who decisions are not to be questioned, whose will is not to be contravened, whose conclusion is a Procrustean test, not only to measure but to coerce.

The Christians of Apostolic times were not satisfied to differ amicable in things intrinsically indifferent. Conscience must needs be enlisted on the side of their respective views; and then the more conscientious they were, the most intolerance they grew. Alienation and distrust, party spirit and proselytism, mutual denunciations, bickerings and criminations were the melancholy consequence.

The Gentile was not a Christian because he did not keep the Passover; the Jew was not a Christian because he did. The Apostle saw and lamented the causeless and injurious strife. This fourteenth chapter of the epistle to the Romans, as well as several chapters in his first epistle to the Corinthians, is devoted to an examination of the dispute about this and kindred topics, with a view to settle the questions that had given rise to it upon their real merits, and allay the unholy heat it had generated. “Let no man,” he writes, “judge you in meat, or in drink, or in respect of an holy day, or of the new moon, or of the Sabbath days,”- that is, of the old seventh day Sabbath, which, under the new economy had given place to the Lord’s day of the first,–“which,” says he, “are a shadow of things to come; but the body is of Christ.” And again, “One man esteemeth one day above another: another esteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind. He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord; and he that regardeth not the day, to the Lord he doth not regard it.” The diversity is lawful and harmless. Observance or nonobservance is perfectly optional. The celebration of the day, with an enlightened, pious and devout endeavor to make it subservient to the promotion of the honor of God and the welfare of the soul, is a truly Christian service, such as Christians may fitly and profitably render; and such is acceptable to the Lord and redounds to his honor. And the refusal to celebrate the day, if it be grounded upon an honest conviction of its inutility and a holy fear of its perversion to sensual or superstitious purposes, it equally innocent and commendable, a Christian service also, and offering pleasing to God and conducive to his glory. Let not him that regardeth the day, despise him that regardeth it not; and let not him that doth not regard the day, judge him that regardeth it: for God hath received him.

At an early period of the Christian era-how early we cannot precisely determine, certainly very early, in days bordering very closely upon the times of the Apostles, if not retreating into them-a system of fast and festival commemorative of the leading events of the life of Jesus Christ, grew up, which in its relationship to Christianity, and to the duty of Christ’s disciples, is, in many important respects, parallel to the Christian retention and adoption of the Mosaic holy-days. Like it, it can claim no divine authority; for it is enjoined by no precept of the New Testament, and can shew no clear proof of having originated in any suggestion of Christ, or in the example of his Apostles. It can urge nothing beyond probability- a probability of the exact degree of which men, with their existing prepossessions, can hardly judge candidly and impartially- that it had primarily a more honorable beginning than individual fancy; though it soon acquired an ecclesiastical approval and sanction. It was a natural fruit, as it seems to us at least who regard the day, of religious impulses and reverential sentiments, of feelings deeply seated in the constitution of man and ever craving opportunity of outward expression, of the very same sensibilities which have led men of all countries and ages to regard with a peculiar sacredness and veneration places and days signalized by important events, to mark them by permanent monuments and periodical observances. It is the religious memory embodied and made visible; just as the patriotic memory is, in the noble shaft that graves the heights of Charlestown, or in the festivities that mark the anniversary of the day that gave birth to our national independence. It is the symbol of an inward sentiment strong in the texture of humanity, indelible and universal, which vehemently demands utterance and manifestation, and will not be denied it in some form without a violence that injures the fabric. That this system began, at least almost as soon as the Christian Church was established, is manifest from the fact of its universal and consentaneous observance in all parts of that Church, however widely separated and however differing in many respects, from the earliest times of which ecclesiastical historians give us any account, and of its uninterrupted continuance in all its branches till within three centuries past. Even now, it is retained by a vast majority of those who bear the Christian name, as well as Reformed as Romanist, Greek, or Oriental, whether Episcopal or non-Episcopal in their constitution, liturgical or extemporary in their worship. The exception is confined, as the preacher believes, to those bodies of Christians in Great Britain and this country, whose forms of government are nonprelatic, and of worship, unwritten. Certainly then, this system may claim to rank among those antiquities of the Gospel, whereof the memory of man and the testimony of history runneth not to the contrary; and can make good to itself that celebrated canon, the “quod semper, ubique, ab omnibus,” the always, everywhere, by all, of Vincent of Lerins.I said above, this system is a natural growth of the human mind. I believe it would have formed part of the costume of an historical religion, of a religion founded on historic facts, under any circumstances. But it was peculiarly natural under the actual circumstances. Jew and Gentile united in the Church of Christ, had each been educated under an annual series of holy-days; that of the former, accommodated by God to what I have described above as a want of our nature; that of the latter, devised by man to satisfy and appease it. How natural how happy, that the new religion in whose common bosom their ancient feud and distinction were to cease, in its rich store of solemn and interesting histories, should afford materials out of which to frame a new and common series, to occupy the place of the obsolete observances of the once, and of the impure trivial ceremonies of the other.

Among the inconsiderate aspersions thrown by those who do not regard the day upon their Christian brethren who do, is the charge that the practice is pagan, and was adopted in accommodation to the customs of the heathen, as a means of conciliation, and with a view of rendering the transition to Christianity more gentle and palatable. I am not aware that the charge is anything better than a surmise, or can claim in its support one particle of historical evidence. But I am not careful to deny it. I am perfectly willing that it should be true. Let it be, that our Christian holy-days are an imitation of heathen festivals. I see in the fact nothing but a proof of the singular wisdom and candor of the primitive Christians, who could see and acknowledge what was good in a corrupt religion, gracefully adopt it, and use it as a means to facilitate the success of the truth. The alleged coincidence of the principal holy-days of the Church with corresponding festivals of heathenism, whether real or imaginary, designed or accidental, will be no disparagement of them with men of sense and impartiality. It leaved the real question at issue entirely unaffected-are they innocent? Are they salutary?

Equally ungenerous and irrelevant is it to call the holy-day system Romish, a remnant of Popery. True, the Church of Rome holds the Christian holy-days sacred. So does the Sabbath, the Bible and the Sacraments. True wisdom consists in “taking forth the precious from the vile.” Candor will be careful to discriminate, and not to condemn and reject the good and harmless things of an evil system. They who follow in the steps of the English Reformers, suppose, that in a clearer perception of this principle that was enjoyed by most of their fellow laborers in the work of the Reformation, consisted the especial advantage and honor of those venerated men. But the holy-day system is in truth much older than Popery. It is the common possession of Papist and Protestant, inherited from a day older than either. It flourished at a period when the Bishop of Rome, so far from assuming that unlawful title to himself, was reproving his brother of Constantinople, for daring to arrogate the dignity of universal bishop; and before that monstrous fabric of falsehood and corruption, which sprung from and in turn supported the Papal supremacy, had so much as received its foundation. It is not to be disposed of by an appeal to popular odium. It must rest upon its intrinsic expediency and worth. It was neither originated by Rome, nor can it be disparaged by her adoption.

We rest then the claims of this festival, and of the system into which it enters, and of the system into which it enters, simply upon the plea of a presumed utility.

In support of this plea, we allege, first, the nature of man, so constituted, that he instinctively seeks to reveal in outwards expressions of an appropriate and significant description the inward feelings that occupy and engage him, and finds in such manifestation not only a relief, but the aliment and support, of the emotion that prompts them. This propensity discloses itself in the universal fondness for monuments and commemorative rites, which has always and does everywhere characterize mankind. And all experience proves the efficacy of such memory of the facts they represent, preserving a fresh and lively sense of them in men’s minds, giving stability to the principles embodied in the, permanency to the enthusiasm which they tend to inspire, and perpetuity to their practical influence.

We adduce, also, its early adoption by the Church of Christ, as evidence that this very want impulse were actually felt, obeyed, and Christianized by an incorporation into the service of God, before the Bride of the Redeemer had declined from the fervor of her “first love,” or departed from her primal purity and fidelity.

We add the testimony of our own experience and observation. We say with the Psalmist, “As we have heard so have we seen in the city of our God.”We have, as we trust, ourselves been made holier and happier by its operation. We have witnessed, as we think, its influence upon others, in helping to make them holier and happier. Its whole tendency seems to us benign and profitable. It arrays the Church “in a raiment of needle work,” “a clothing of wrought gold,” a fit apparel for her presentation to the Kind, a costume that makes her venerable and lovely in the yes of her children. Whatever tends to render religion beautiful and attractive, to call the attention of men to her, to awaken their interest in her, is deserving of the regard of her friends. An attire of comeliness is not to be despised, if it do but serve to obtain for her that notice, which may lead to the perception and appreciation of her more solid and substantial charms. Rome has bedizened her in the finery of a courtesan; the fear of Rome may sometimes have reduced her too nearly to a state of nudity.

As a means awaking interest, and calling forth a spirit of inquiry in the young, the holy-day system is highly useful. This happy effect Scripture expressly ascribes to the Mosaic festivals:-it is not less true of the Christian:-“and it shall come to pass, when your children shall say unto you, what mean ye by this service? That ye shall say, it is the sacrifice of the Lord’s Passover, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt, when he smote the Egyptians, and delivered our houses.” The simple questions of a child about the evergreen wreaths that now adorn our temples, may afford a particularly happy and favorable opportunity for communicating to it a knowledge of the facts and truths of Christianity. Instruction so communicated, in answer to voluntary inquiry, comes with far greater effect, than that which comes unsought to passive, perhaps reluctant, minds. Answer your children’s questions then. Perhaps the result of some such question and answer may lead you to bless God for Christmas, and for this Christmas.

The holy-day system moreover provides a series of profitable and interesting themes for public instruction. It brings into an annual review the principal incidents in the life of Christ, the leading features of the great work by which he wrought out our redemption. It presents them in their order and connexion, and displays the successive contribution of each to the perfect whole. Such a system is replete with instruction, instinct with doctrine and with duty. It involves all that a Christian ought to believe and to do to his souls health. It is a great safeguard against partial teaching. It secures an annual survey of the whole field of the gospel. It checks the tendency of ministers to have pet topics and doctrines. Even if the pulpit be silent, the desk must make its annual proclamation of the whole counsel of God. A people among whom this system is developed with any tolerable degree of ability and fidelity, may parish; but it cannot be that they shall be “destroyed for lack of knowledge.” I speak warmly, for I feel warmly. I know that no generous mind will be displeased at the spontaneous movements of an honest but not uncharitable enthusiasm.

I trust then, sufficient reason has been shown, why, in the celebration of this festival, and of that round of holy-day which in their orderly succession make up that zodiac of heavenly signs through which she delights to take her yearly circuit, our church is not justly liable to any charge of superstition, of adding to the word of God, of Popery, or of dogmatism. She ranks it no higher than a municipal regulation, recommended to her by the ancient and general practice of the Church Catholic, and by her own experience of pleasure and profit in its use. She rests her observance of it, upon no divine law or intrinsic obligation, but simply upon expediency and ecclesiastical precept. It is but a private way she has of endeavoring to “edify herself in love,” and “build up her children in their most holy faith.” She dictates to none; she reproaches none. Thus have I sought to “give an answer to every man that asketh a reason” of this peculiarity of our practice, “with meekness and fear;” and to make it appear not incredible at least to any, that “he that regardeth the day” may “regard it unto the Lord;” and unseemly in “him that regardeth it not” to judge severely “him that regardeth it.”

But let us not forget that the text has a reverse side. It is also written, “He that regardeth not the day, to the Lord he doth not regard it.” Godliness then, will consist with a disregard of the day. Let us then be careful never to charge those who neglect to observe the day, with a breach of the divine law, or the omission of an essential means of spiritual edification and improvement. They do at the utmost but forego a source of religious improvement and strength which we retain and price, the want of which is compensated to them, it may be, by other arrangements of their own, Certain it is, that without them, they do attain a measure of Christian excellence, activity and usefulness, which should provoke us only to praise and emulation. Let us not conclude, that, because they have not our way, they have no way of keeping in mind the incarnation and other facts in the history of redemption, of meditating upon them, and making them “profitable for doctrine and instruction in righteousness.” Let not “him that regardeth the day” grow arrogant, and despise “him that regardeth it not.” Not even if we are assailed with ignorant misrepresentation and rude invective, let us be driven out of our calmness and charity. Nay, my dear brethren, let us never forget that we are disciple of One, “who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; who, when he suffered, threatened not; but committed himself to Him who judgeth righteously. “Render not evil for evil, nor railing for railing, but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing.”

We are assembled this day to celebrate the nativity of the Son of God. The theme is one full of wonder, of instruction, and of comfort.

It commends Christ to us as a perfect Savior. As a Redeemer. We need one who can suffer in our stead; one who can make a satisfaction to divine justice; one who can be a “mediator between God and man, a days-man betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both,” This qualification the Son of God acquired by his assumption of flesh. This enabled him to die, to die a penal death, and by his death, render our pardon practicable, righteous, safe and credible. Hence “it is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation,” that Christ is “able to save.” Are you weary and bowed down with burden of sin? Go to Him: he can, he will “give you rest.”

As an example. By his human life, he became the model of humanity; a display of what our nature should be, a demonstration of what our nature may be. How inspiriting is this exhibition! Who has not felt the force and value of a pure and lovely example? Christ has gone before us in our walks, in our labors, in our trials, in our sufferings. Wheresoever we are, we may carry with us in the mirror of our minds, an image of “the man Christ Jesus;” and fashion and attire our life after the pattern of its perfect simplicity, propriety and beauty.

As a Head and Champion. His assumption of man’s nature at once proved its dignity and augmented it. It teaches us to think highly of ourselves, not morally or spiritually, but as to the constitution and destiny of man, and of ourselves as man. “God hath made us a little lower than the angels, to crown us with glory and honor.” Therefore “the Lord from heaven” stooped to be one of us, and to save us. He became “the second Adam,” the new Head of humanity; and took it into a close and eternal union with himself, and made it sharer of his own dignity. As he died because we die, so he rose that we might rise, and was glorified that we might share his glory. “As our forerunner, he hath for us entered” heaven; and “he ever liveth to make intercession for us”. What a demonstration of the value of our souls! What en encouragement to seek their salvation!

As a Friend and Helper. His human nature has gone up with him on high. His human memories and sympathies survive, and abide forever. He sees us, and with interest, in all our earthly troubles, in all our conflicts with unbelief, in all our struggles after holiness. He come to us, to enliven, refresh, strengthen, and reclaim us. “We have not an High Priest, that cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities;” or that will look idly upon them. Wherefore “lift up the hands that hang down, and the feeble knees.””Come boldly to a throne of grace to find mercy and grace to help in time of need.”

 

Col II 16:17

The author is aware that some may be disposed to rest the claims of the Church’s holy-day system on higher grounds that those of utility and ecclesiastical appointment; and that by such his citation of Vincent’s rule may be quoted against him. The consent of the Church is of use to elucidate and confirm doctrines and duties of which the New Testament gives intimation; but it cannot clothe with obligation anything that lacks this foundation. The Church can make an observance obligatory on its members, by that “power to decree rites and ceremonies,” (Art. XX) which is inherent in her as a society, and especially as a society divine; but nothing short of Scripture can make any observance binding on the Church. “Whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby,” says Art. VI., “is not to be required of any man that it should be believed as an article of faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation.” Still the antiquity and universality of the usage are a strong testimony in its favor; and the common judgment and feeling of Christendom, is certainly a proof of its expediency, and of the wisdom of our Church in retaining it, not easily set aside. And this, with the other considerations tending to the same conclusion exhibited in the discourse, forms the ground of deference here taken.

When the author was a student in Yale College, a professor in that institution delivered a lecture in support of this theory; in which he attempted to show that the birth of Jesus Christ did not occur on the 25th of December, and that that day had been selected for its commemoration in conformity to the Roman Saturnalia. He happened to choose Christmas day for its delivery; but the students mindful of the holiday, if not of the holy-day, left him to an empty lecture room, and compelled him to defer it to another week. Hooker disposes of this supposition effectually in a few words. But the discourse maintains that its truth or falsehood if perfectly immaterial. The blow, like multitudes of others aimed at the Episcopal Church, falls harmless, because bestowed upon a shadow. A Churchman’s answer is comprised in two words. Who cares?

Jer. xv: 19

Rev ii:4

Ps. xlviii: 8

Ps. xlv: 13,14

“Well to celebrate these religious and sacred days, is to spend the flower of our time happily. They are the splendor and outward dignity of our religion, forcible witnesses of ancient truth, provocations to the exercise of all piety, shadows or our endless felicity in heaven, on earth everlasting records and memorials, wherein they which cannot be drawn to hearken to what we teach, may only by looking upon what we do, in a measure read whatsoever we believe.” – Hooker, Eccl. Pol. B. V. lxxi. 11.

“She on the hills, which wantonly allureth all, in hope to be by her preferred, hath kissed so long her painted shines, for her reward. She, in the valley, is so shy of dressing, that her hair doth lie about her ears. While she avoids her neighbors pride, she wholly goes on th’ other side and nothing wears. But dearest mother, (what those miss,) the mean, they praise and glory is; and long may be.” – George Herbert

Ex. xii:26,27. See also Ex. xiii: 14,15; Josh. iv:6,7:21-24; Ps. lxxxviii:5-8.

Hos. iv:6

“The way before us lies distinct with signs- through which, in fixed career, as through a zodiac, moves the ritual year of England’s Church.”- Wordsworth

Eph. iv:16

Jude, 20

1 Pet. Iii:15

2 Tim iii:16

1 Pet. ii:23

1 Pet. iii:9

1 Tim. ii:5

Job ix: 33

Ps. viii:5

1 Cor. xv: 45-49

Heb. vi:20

Heb. vii:25

Heb. iv: 15

Heb. xii: 12

Heb. iv:16

* Originally published: Dec. 21, 2016.

Sermon – Christmas – 1843


P. H. Greenleaf preached this sermon on Christmas Day, which was published in 1843.


sermon-christmas-1843

THE CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL.

A

SERMON,

DELIVERED ON THE

EVENING OF CHRISTMAS DAY,

IN

SAINT JOHN’S CHURCH,

CHARLESTOWN.

By P. H. GREENLEAF,
RECTOR OF THE CHURCH.

“By festival solemnities and set days, we dedicate and sanctify to God the memory of his benefits, lest unthankful forgetfulness thereof should creep upon us in course of time.”

Augustine De Civit: Dei 16:4.

This sermon, prepared in the ordinary course of parochial duty, was not originally intended for publication. But some strictures upon the Church for her observance of the Christmas Festival having been recently made, it is now published, in accordance with the wishes of some, who judge that its circulation may be useful, and to whose judgment the author feels bound to defer.

Almighty God, who hast given us thy only begotten Son to take our nature upon him, and as at this time to be born of a pure Virgin; grant that we, being regenerate and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit, through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

SERMON.
Isaiah, LX. 13.

THE GLORY OF LEBANON SHALL COME UNTO THEE, THE FIR-TREE, THE PINE-TREE, AND THE BOX, TOGETHER, TO BEAUTIFY THE PLACE OF MY SANCTUARY; AND I WILL MAKE THE PLACE OF MY FEET GLORIOUS.

These are the beautiful prophetic emblems of the glory and the eternity of Christ’s kingdom.

It was no new thing thus to shadow forth the coming and the kingdom of the Redeemer. The ancient prophecies, looking onward to his advent, declare, “Behold the man, whose name is the Branch;” 1 it shall be “beautiful and glorious;” 2 “a Rod shall come out of the stem of Jesse,” 3 and “a Branch shall grow out of his roots.” His Church is represented as a “choice vine,” 4 and he whose hope the Lord is, as “a tree, whose leaf shall be ever green.” 5 It was predicted, that the Messiah should make the “wilderness to blossom as the rose;” 6 and that the cedar and the myrtle should spring up “in the solitary place,” 7 and the brier and the thorn pass forever away. 8 The scenery of the earth gave the prophets of God beautiful imagery, in which to clothe their predictions, and by which the faith of coming generations should be confirmed.

Hence, when the evangelical Prophet is opening to future faith disclosures of the ultimate triumph of the gospel, and the eternity and glory of the Christian Church, he employs, in the language of our text, the illustrative imagery of the material world. As though he had said, “amid those changes in human affairs, represented by the succession of the seasons,–when other institutions and religions have, like summer flowers, faded and gone,–when, amid the desolations of earth, all other vitality shall seem destroyed, the Kingdom and Church of the Redeemer shall still survive; its ministry and sacraments, its faith and gospel, shall have a visible existence; and, like the unchanging verdure of the fir, and the pine, and the box, shall continue to beautify the sanctuary, and make the place of his feet glorious, until his coming again.”

And, still, the same beautiful emblems are employed to shadow forth the same truths. Annually, at the birth-time of Jesus, when we specially commemorate the coming, the glory, and the eternity of his Church and kingdom, we perceive a peculiar propriety in bringing from their wintry abode these wreaths, in their unfading beauty and their unchanging verdure, that they may (as in prophetic days) testify of the Messiah. Fit emblems of eternal life! This day they entwine Christian altars, visible tokens of our undying hopes. Fit representatives of perpetuity! They show forth the eternity of the gospel faith in the gospel-church. And as such, as fitting emblems of truth, dear to Christian faith,–truths, we would consecrate in the memory of ourselves and our children, we bring the cedar, which is “the glory of Lebanon, and the fir-tree, and the pine-tree, and the box, to beautify the sanctuary, and make the place of his feet glorious;” because, on this day was born, “in the city of David, a Saviour who is Christ the Lord.” 9

Nor are we solitary in this festival commemoration. To-day, the Christian world presents the sublime spectacle of one vast cloud of incense ascending from earth to heaven. Men of every clime, and every language, and every tongue,–men differing widely in opinion, in interest, in intellect and position, do homage to the Saviour. Wars cease. Not an hostile weapon is raised this day in Christendom. Even enemies suspend their feuds, and, whatever of unholy strife burns and rages in the bosom of wickedness and the depths of sin, the surface, at least, is calm; and to-day, there is “peace on the earth.” What but the power of the gospel, and the energy of its life-giving principles, could bring together so many discordant elements, and send up, at once, toward heaven, the homage of the earth. Nay, think not,

“Though men were none,
That heaven would want spectators, God want praise;
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.
All these with ceaseless praise his works behold
Both day and night.” 10

And these ‘glad voices of the sky,’ which sang in Judea of old, still chant “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men.”

The incarnation of Jesus, and the glory of his kingdom, are still the wonderful themes, into which “angels desire to look,” 11 and are not able. Redeeming love causes 12 joy in heaven, as well as upon the earth, and no theme more stirs the deep fountains of gladness among all the servants of God. And, therefore it is, that we keep this festival season. We would give one day to its distinct and joyful remembrance. We would connect it with our holiest hopes, our best affections, our most endearing and time-honored associations. And, therefore, our families are gathered,–affectionate greetings interchanged,–in the sanctuary, anthems and glad voices swell the notes of praise,–near and dear ones surround us,–the absent, too, are remembered, and the day is linked with family gathering and kindred love.

Let it not be supposed, that we attach an undue importance to this festival, or are disposed to revive or continue its superstitious observance. Its antiquity might prove the piety of our fathers; but unless we could show its practical utility, unless we had some important truth to commemorate, some salutary influences to be sent forth in its observance, we would not ask it to be preserved, nor could we expect it would retain such hold upon the public mind as to be of any real value in the subserving of truth.

We do not profess to be of those philosophers, who affect to despise “subsidiaries in religion,” [as though men could go where these are not,] and who would live independent of external influences. On the contrary, such is our nature, so are we constituted, as that we are incessantly acted upon by the men and things which surround us. Hence, from the time when the morning stars sang together for joy, 13 and angels chanted the glad tidings of salvation, music and voice have been employed to awaken devotional sentiment and enkindle piety. And not only eloquence and song, but painting, and architecture, have lent their aid to awaken pious feelings, and produce, as well as increase, devotional sentiment. Hearts, hard and perverse, insensible to argument and reason, are sometimes softened and swayed by the influence of sensible objects and sounds. And the power of these influences you cannot measure. They are not confined to a single spot, or a single mind. They spread on every side, like the undulations of the smitten water. They reach those who never saw or heard them. They extend their impressions, circle after circle, to distant generations, “as the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake.”

To such influences, we would give a direction; we would address the eye as well as the ear; we would employ these subsidiaries in the preservation of truth, and to promote and cultivate the practice of piety. And, therefore, because we judge that the festival and its attending circumstances present truth, send forth healthy religious influences, produce good affections, and promote godliness, we retain it; and only while it answers the end of its institution, would we observe it.

Our festival commemorates the incarnation of God for the salvation of men. Can you select an event more wonderful than this,–one fraught with richer blessings,–one better deserving our commemoration?

Consider, for a moment, the condition of the world in the day when Christ was born. The remains of that age are the admiration of our own. Its marbles, it paintings, the magnificent fragments of its genius, its learning, its poetry and song, give proof of man’s intellect and skill. And however moderns may vaunt of their improvements in Christian philosophy, and their advance in the science of a God, much of both is older than Christianity, and, too often, is but a revival of pagan wisdom. Yet these monuments of antiquity are also monuments of man’s ruin. Vestiges enough remain of his genius, his wisdom, his intellect, to show the impress of divinity; yet, disjointed and turned from the purposes of their creation, they betoken his fall. The whole world lay in moral ruin. The knowledge of a true God, his law and will, had almost faded from human tradition, and though conscience still lingered in the soul, like a spirit of the departed, “unwilling to leave even the ruins of the palace which it once occupied;” 14 the mind was debased; the man was lost.

Under these circumstances, God, at this time, became “manifest in the flesh.” 15 Jesus was born at Bethlehem. The angel, who sang at his birth, called him “a Saviour;” and he proved to be, as the holy Simeon said, “the light to lighten the Gentiles, the glory of Israel.” 16 He came—the predicted Messiah—the Way of life 17 –to sanctify the soul, 18 to forgive the sins, 19 and to save and bless mankind. God, who, at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake, in time past, unto the fathers, by the prophets, in these last days, spake unto men by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, by whom, also, he made the worlds; who, being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, 20 came to the earth for the redemption of men. The day, therefore, which ushered Jesus to the world, was the birth-day of all those hopes of reconciliation with God, of restoration to purity, of happiness beyond the grave, which to us, sinners, are the chiefest and choicest blessings.

Has it not always been an admitted public duty to acknowledge social blessings, and gratefully to remember those through whose instrumentalities they were obtained? Are not the names of Washington, Adams, Hancock, and Warren, the jewels of our country, familiar as household words? Do we not set apart times and seasons to their memory, and hallow the birth-days of our freedom as political festivals? It is wise, it is expedient to do so. These festivals exert an influence upon the public mind. They are the levers of public sentiment, the channels of healthy feeling, the means and modes whereby good principles and sound morals may be perpetuated. Much more, as the common recipients of blessings from the hand of God, are bound socially to acknowledge and specially to commemorate them. Indeed, the same causes, which bring us together in social worship would also make it right and expedient to consecrate a day to the express commemoration, by suitable signs and symbols, of the greatest of all blessings, the coming of a Saviour to a ruined world.

It cannot, with truth, be denied, that a religion, wholly spiritual, and wholly abstracted from sensible objects, would be unfit for mankind. Hence, our Lord instituted the ‘sign’ of water, and the elements of the Eucharist. Hence, our memorial columns, our festival seasons. Hence, we set up this day, as a tangible and sensible monument of the particular event it commemorates. It stands up, in the year, as a ‘pillar of witness,’ inscribed with, “God, manifest in the flesh.” It is designed and intended to act upon the public mind, to move as a lever of public sentiment. It offers, annually, to man, a sensible memorial of the miraculous birth, and the divine character of Jesus, our Redeemer, and their blessed results. And its effect is to perpetuate that which it commemorates, to deepen the lines of its memory, to interweave gospel-truth with dear and time-honored associations, and transmit that truth, unbroken, from age to age.

And, therefore, we have come hither, to-day; we have kept it as a great festival solemnity; we have set up the fir-tree and the evergreen, to beautify the sanctuary; we have brought hither our children to sing a festival song, 21 and join us in our praise, that, by tangible memorial, and sensible object, by all that can reach the eye and the ear, we may impress ourselves and them, with the great theme of the day.

There are some objections made to the observance of this day, as a religious festival, which, because they are current, and, to some, formidable, would seem to require, in this place, particular notice. It is sometimes said, that this institution, not being the subject of a divine command, or express injunction, has no warrant from Scripture, and no place in a religion which has abolished legal ordinances. To this, it may be replied, that the fact commemorated, and its attendant doctrines and influences, sufficiently indicate the Scriptural nature of the festival. There needs no express law to make its subject and theme interesting to the Christian mind. While men live, who trust in a Saviour’s cross, that which called forth angel-song should breathe in sacred harmonies on earth.

Nothing is commanded in the New Testament, which is not of the essentials of Christianity. Belief and obedience, faith and repentance, the word and the sacraments,–these were, at the first, enjoined. All else was left to Apostolic direction; where the Apostles left no direction, then to the decree of Christ’s Church; and where neither the Gospel, nor its Apostles, nor its Church, directed, then to the individual judgment. Now, the keeping of Christmas is not an essential article of Christian doctrine. Like the ritual of the service, and the mode of worship, this institution is left to the discretion of the various branches of Christ’s Church. In the exercise of this discretion, that branch of the Church catholic to which we belong has enacted its observance; and, in that enactment, we have the concurrence of the large majority of Christians, and, as we think, the warrant of primitive usage and common sense. Nevertheless, we prescribe it, not for others, but for ourselves. And though it is painful to know that any blame 22 us for the observance of an institution, which partakes of the nature of a domestic regulation, yet, as we base its observance only upon the expediencies and proprieties of the case, our rule is, here, as elsewhere,–“Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.” 23

Another objection to this festival arises from another and a better source. Apprehensive of the increase of popery in our country, alarmed at every co-incident between us and Rome, some fear to give currency or countenance to the observance of this day, because, from its origin and circumstances, they judge it has become identified with Roman superstition. In their apprehension and alarm, we could well join, at every proof of the growth of this schismatical Church, or the increase of its principles. But if the simple fact of either reception or original at Rome is good cause for the rejection of a Christian institution, many things, far from being objectionable, would share its fate. We admit neither its Roman origin, nor its identity with Roman superstition. It is identified neither with Rome, nor Greece, nor Syria, nor with any national Church. We claim for it that it is catholic, apostolic, scriptural.

But even if it had original at Rome, 24 is it good philosophy and sound argument to reject any thing, because it flows through an imperfect conductor, or an unsightly channel? May not the water be pure, though the pipe be leaden? May not the Scriptures be God’s word, though Jewish bigotry and Roman intolerance have been their keepers?

An objection like this cannot stand a moment’s examination. The real question is, not whence it came? But why is it used? And until its observance be shown to be unscriptural in its original, or mischievous in its tendencies, I claim your judgment in its favor.

It is sometimes further objected to this festival, that the day we observe was not the true birth-day of Jesus, and therefore its observance should cease. I deny both the premises and the conclusion.

Although we have no certain proof, as to the time, when this day was first observed in the Christian church, yet, because it was, at a very early period, kept as the true day 25 by those who, from their position, had ample opportunity for knowledge; because it was at so early a period, generally thus observed, 26 and because the Church, for so many centuries, has agreed in this judgment, we affirm, that it is the true day, and place the burden of proof to the contrary, upon those who deny it. The time of the officiating by Zacharias in his course, 27 and the conduct of Herod, in the murder of the holy innocents, 28 are strong collateral proofs; while the general tradition, and the absence of any other assumed day, strengthen our opinion.

But admit, that we are mistaken, does it therefore follow, that we should cease to observe it? We do not rest its expediency or propriety upon it, as a birthday, but as a conventional period, generally designated for commemorating an important truth. Christians, separated by wide seas, by many circumstances of condition, of language, and of clime, have agreed upon this, as a suitable period for uniting in this commemoration. They, and their fathers, for a thousand years, have so done. The day is endeared to them, by a vast variety of hallowed associations and tender recollections. And, it is more than probable, that there never has been a time, since the birth of Jesus, when so many immortal souls have united in one solemn religious exercise, as upon this festival day. 29

Does it add nothing of interest to the day, that almost a world’s population are sending up their anthems with ours? Does it form no reason for keeping this high festival, that it can, more than any other institution, unite the greatest number of souls in an act of religious homage? Surely, if so many Christians are agreed, in this great act of annual thanksgiving to God for the blessing of a Saviour, it forms good cause for our union with them to consecrate this day to the nativity of Jesus.

But here, again, the force of our argument is evaded by an allegation, that there is not such an agreement of men in an act of religious homage, but only in an act of festivity, often riotous and unhallowed.

He must be a bold man, who should review the thousands of Christian altars in the civilized world, where, to-day, prayer has been made, and gaze upon the kneeling millions who render to-day, their thanksgivings, and say, “there is no homage there.”

The ancient prayers, the hallowed services, the anthems, which peal from so many temples, and the ‘tables of the Lord’ spread in so many lands, sufficiently indicate the intention of the assembly, and the agreement of Christian minds in an act of religious adoration. The truth is, however, that the fountain of human action sends forth, even its purest streams, more or less contaminated, and no tide of human feeling long flows uncorrupt. And, therefore, you can never secure man’s best religious offerings from taint, or his best institutions from perversion and sin. The Christmas festival, like the thanksgiving day of New England, is a human institution; and both are frequently perverted by unhallowed festivities. But would it be fair argument, and good philosophy to say, that there were no grateful hearts, in this Commonwealth, upon a thanksgiving-day, because so many persons desecrate it? Or would such perversion be considered as good cause for its abolition? Clearly not. Rather would we save it from being corrupted, and sanctify it by acts of piety and devotion.

Christians, every where, consecrate this Sabbath, as holy to the Lord. And thus would we ever commemorate the birth-time of our Redeemer. 30 We hallow it annually, by the Eucharistic sacrifice, the highest act of homage known to our religion. We devote it to religious festivities and grateful acknowledgments of the goodness of God. It is, to us, the day of the incarnation of Jesus. His marvelous birth, his holy office, his divine character,–these re the themes of our thought. If he were only a man, we might turn over the remarkable circumstances of his birth, to the page of history. If he were only a man, we should consider his virtue and his obedience, but his bounden duty and reasonable service. If he were only a man, we should never dream it could be true, that his blood could cleanse from sin; 31 and truly, if he were only a man, the story of the angel-songs at his birth-time is but an embellishment of antiquity. But when we consider him as divine, as the manifested God, the event we commemorate is at once invested with an august and sublime character. It was an event, fitting to be a world’s wonder, and worthy to be ushered in by “a multitude of the heavenly host singing and praising God.” 32 And, therefore, because we would, on this day, commemorate a manifested divinity, because we would annually trace the distinct outlines of this truth, and keep it in memory forever, we set apart this day, and, by every endeared recollection and hallowed association, would consecrate it as the birth-time of our blessed Redeemer, and therefore as the beginning of that ‘mystery of godliness,’ by which the Word, on this day made flesh, gave us ‘the power to become the sons of God.’ “Come faith, and bend our knees and hearts to Jesus, the manifested God! Come hope, and spread above us thy many colored bow of promise, the token of God’s covenant. And thou, charity, the fairest daughter of heaven, come, gladden the poorest of Christ’s brethren by thy benevolence; and begin here, that work of divine love, which shall be finished where faith shall have faded before vision, and hope be lost in the fruition of the promises.” 33

Need we further argument for the festival season? Shall we gravely apply ourselves to apologize for our memory of the birth-time of the Saviour of sinners? No: rather let us rejoice, that we have opportunity to discharge a great social duty, by this public acknowledgment of our highest benefactor.

The Christian Sabbath tells of the Christian’s Saviour. It comes to us, teeming with memorials and sacred recollections; yet if it present any one fact in our Lord’s history, or any one truth of his Gospel, more prominent than another, it is the fact and truth of the resurrection.

The Christian “Communion of the body and blood of the Lord’ excites in the pious soul liveliest emotions of gratitude, and brings to ‘remembrance his blessed passion and precious death, his mighty resurrection and glorious ascension,’ and in the memorial we make, and which he has commanded, as often as we eat that bread and drink that cup, we do show the Lord’s death, till he come.

But when we set apart a day, as the memorial of his birth-time, we bring into strong relief the specific event we commemorate. Its distinct remembrance tends to perpetuate the recollection of its supernatural character. It draws close the attention to its remarkable circumstances. The day stands up as a memorial column in the year, inscribed with the fulfilled prophecies. We make it distinct testimony to the divine character of our Redeemer, and it becomes, therefore, a witness to us, and to our children’s children, that the Word which was in the beginning with God, on this day, “was made flesh and dwelt among us.” 34

Every thing in the character of the day, its appropriate services, its ritual, and circumstances strengthen our belief that it had its original in the piety of the primitive Christians. It has stood the test of more than a thousand years of vicissitudes and changes. It has been approved, and owned, and blest among the people of God, in every part of the world; and Christian experience has tested, for many centuries, its utility as a mean of grace, its tendency to promote piety, its efficiency to preserve truth, increase religious affections, and give vigor to Christian hopes.

And now, my friends, as this holy day is passing away, and the shades of its even-tide are gathering thick and fast around us, as you depart from this beautified sanctuary, carry with you, as the lesson of the day, the reflection, how dark would be our world without Christ! No comfort for the living! No hope for the dying! None, for the loved and lost! Where could man look for strength, in the trials of life? Where could he fly for relief and support in its afflictions and sorrows? More than all, what would he have ever before him, but an unknown and dread hereafter,–the more dreadful, because unknown!

You know not, you cannot know, how much of all your earthly happiness,–how much of all that is noble, and intellectual, and refined in civilized life,–how much of all that makes your home comfortable, your life desirable, and your hearts happy,–you owe to the event we commemorate this day. And oh! If any children of Adam can have adequate impression of that deep and dark-swelling tide, which would have swept generation after generation of Christless spirits into eternity,–if any of our fallen race can gain a lively sense of that redeeming love, which to-day manifested a Saviour to the lost, it must be, and it an be only those, who have “looked unto the rock whence they were hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence they were digged,” 36 and have made Jesus the strength of their heart and their portion forever.

They can feel the gladness of gratitude, for they have been rescued by Jesus from the terrors of a broken law, and the apprehensions of a future judgment. They can rejoice at these glad tidings, for Jesus hath delivered them from the slavery of unholy passions, and the dominion of an ungodly world. They can rejoice, for, amid all the trials, and the difficulties, and the distresses, with which they must struggle in this ‘vale of tears,’ Jesus hath engaged, they shall be sustained by divine power, cheered by celestial comforts, guided by infinite wisdom, and saved by infinite love. They feel, that, if God hath so loved them in their transgression, and hath so blessed this scene of rebellion, much more will he bless, 37 with perfect and enduring happiness, those who, through Jesus, have become ‘children of grace and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven.’ And, therefore, to them, the event of this day is indeed ‘glad tidings of great joy.’ And such it may become to you and ‘to all people.’

Take home, then, with you, as the lesson of the day, how dark our world, how sad the fate of man without a Christ! Strive to gain such knowledge of your own heart as shall make you feel the value of a Saviour. Behold him, not only in his humiliation as ‘made flesh,’ but in the glory of his mediatorial throne, as exalted to ‘make intercession.’ And go not to a prayerless bed! Give neither sleep to your eyes nor rest to your mind, until you have surrendered yourself to the Redeemer. And prove your gratitude for the inestimable blessing of salvation, by committing your everlasting interests to him, who was to-day manifested in Bethlehem to be both “a Prince and a Saviour.” 38

 


Endnotes

1 Zechariah vi. 12.

2 Isaiah iv. 2.

3 Isaiah xi. 1.

4 Isaiah v. 2.

5 Jeremiah xvii. 8.

6 Isaiah xxxv. 1.

7 Isaiah xli. 19.

8 Isaiah lv. 13.

9 Luke ii. 11.

10 Milton’s Paradise Lost, b. 4.

11 I Peter i. 12.

12 Luke xv. 7.

13 Job xxxviii. 7.

14 Wolfe.

15 1 Timothy iii. 16.

16 Luke ii. 32.

17 John xiv. 6.

18 Hebrews xiii. 12.

19 Matthew ix. 6.

20 Hebrews i. 1-3.

21 More than an hundred little children, of St. John’s Sunday School, were gathered before the chancel, in the afternoon of Christmas day. After the usual evening service, the Rector catechized them in the presence of the congregation, and presented each child with a Christmas gift. The children made an offering to God, in token of gratitude for a Saviour, and paid $20 18, (the results, in many cases, of earnings and self-denial,) to the General Board of Missions, to be expended in sending the knowledge of a Saviour to children who have it not.

22 See a little Sunday school book, published by the Massachusetts Sunday School Union, entitled, “Christmas,” and devoted to teaching the children of those who do NOT keep the festival, how unscriptural is the conduct of those who do!

23 Rom. xiv. 5.

24 This we deny, although its observance was enacted by Julian, bishop of Rome, A.D. 345. (Giesel. i. 292.) “It is found marked as such in a Roman calendar supposed to have been compiled in, or before A.D. 354.” Pilk. Evang. Hist. 45. Introd.

25 Giesel. Eccl. Hist. i. 292.

26 St. Chrysostom to. 5, hom. 33 (in 4th century) uses this language: “This day is of great antiquity, and of long continuance, being famous and known in the church from the beginning.”
It cannot be denied, that the fathers of the church, in the days here called “the beginning,” may have had as good ground for fixing upon that day, as men now have for celebrating the landing of the Plymouth colonists, on the twenty-second of December; the direct evidence of which may be as much lost to posterity, as that of the day of the nativity would be to us, had we no other testimony.
St. Augustine, also, mentions the same fact. Sermon 18, de Nat. Ch. De Trinitate, lib. iv. c. 5. Quoted by Dr. Pilkington, Evang. Hist. Chron. Disert. P. 46.

27 Luke i. 5, 26; ii. 6.

28 Matt. ii. 16.

29 Reference is here had to the fact, that the festival occurred, in this year, upon Sunday. It is sometimes said, that Sunday, being the Lord’s day, is a sufficient commemoration of Jesus, for all practical purposes. But the Lord’s day can scarcely be said to commemorate any thing, unless it be the fact of the resurrection. It comes to us, filled with associations and influences. It is not, as this festival, a distinct and specific memorial of the birth of Jesus, of the time when Christianity “was not, and began to be.”

30 “This festival is the most improper season, (if there can be one more than another) for impiety and wickedness, and a most notorious aggravation of it; because contrary to the design of our Saviour’s coming into the world, who ‘was made manifest, that he might destroy the works of the devil.’” Comp. for Festivals (edit. 1715.) p. 72.

31 1 John i. 7.

32 Luke ii. 13.

33 Bishop Dehon.

34 I Cor. ii. 26.

35 John i. 14.

36 Isaiah li. 1.

37 Romans viii. 32.

38 Acts. V. 31.

Sermon – Christmas – 1841

 

sermon-christmas-1841

Joy of the Shepherds.
A
Simple
Christmas Sermon

“And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.” – Luke ii. 20.

In the history which the evangelist, Luke, gives us of the birth of our blessed Savior, we are told that, “The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had seen and heard.” It is in the twentieth verse of the second chapter.

The shepherds had been to Bethlehem to see the infant Redeemer, and returned to take care of their flocks.

They were happy men, those shepherds, and very good men too, we may be sure, or God would never have made them so happy. They were not learned men; for as they had to watch their flocks by night and by day, but little time was left them to read books. Yet they were better taught than even the wise men, (and these wise men were good men too,) who came from the East to find out where Christ was born. God Sent a star to show them the way; but he sent an angel, all bright with his own glory, to tell that the shepherds were pious men, who would be glad to hear that their Savior was born, and would go and worship him.

Herod was a very great king, and very rich. His palace was very fine with gold, and silver, and purple, and precious stones. All the people that stood about him, and waited on him, were dressed in very beautiful clothes, and no doubt he had a great many singers and players upon instruments, who made good music for him to hear. But he never saw such a splendid sight as these shepherds saw, when the glory of the great God, who made all the silver, and gold, and bright and precious things, shone around them. He never had a servant to wait upon him looking so beautifully as the messenger that came to them; for it was an angel of the Lord, all glittering with the brightness of heaven, who came to tell them that their Savior was born. And there never was such a concert heard on earth as the angels made over the hill-side for these humble men, singing the anthems which God loves to hear in heaven.

Yet we need not envy those shepherds: for if we love Jesus Christ, and believe what God has told us, we may be as happy as they were, and happier too. God has given us the Bible to tell us all, and a great deal more, than the angels told them: and, besides, he sends his Holy Spirit to make us understand, if we are willing to be taught, all that he has said. We cannot go to Bethlehem and see the Savior there, a little babe, because long since he grew up to be a man; and having obeyed God’s law for us, died for our sins, and went up again into heaven, where he now reigns our blessed and holy King. But if we give our hearts to him, and trust him as our Savior, it is better than if we saw him on earth. For once, when the apostle Thomas worshipped him as his Lord and his God, because he saw him and touched him after he had risen from the dead, the Savior said to him, “Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen me, and yet have believed.”

If we believe the Bible we shall know not only that Christ was born into the world to be our Savior, but also that he lived, and died upon the cross, to make our salvation certain. We shall know not only that he was once a little child to show his love for us, but also that he is now the King of kings, in the glory of his Father; and yet as mindful of us on the throne of heaven, as when here upon the earth. If we do not love and trust him as our savior, we have no right to be glad and happy on Christmas-day, for hi is not our Savior; and God will punish us the more, because he has sent his Son into the world, and we have not given our hearts to him. But if we do truly believe on him, and try, by his help, to be like him, we may praise and glorify God now for the birth of Jesus Christ, and hope, through the death of Jesus Christ, to praise him in heaven, where the angels are always singing, “Glory to God in the highest:” and we shall sing it with them, and perhaps as well as they can.

The sacred historian tells us, that after the shepherds had been to Bethlehem, to see the new-born Savior, they returned glorifying and praising God.

They glorified God:—That  is, they not only were glad in their hearts, and talked gladly among themselves, but they worshipped God, with prayers and thanksgivings, and praised him for all the goodness and mercy he showed  in sending his own Son to be born into the world, that he might be our Savior. For it is not enough that we are glad when God gives us blessings, we must remember that they come from the great and holy God; and that we do not deserve them, because we are sinners. Therefore we must worship him, first, as the great and holy God; and then thank him for having such a love and pity towards such poor creatures as we are. And this we should do, not only when we pray to God by ourselves, but also before other people in his church, that they may be taught to praise God too. We should glorify and praise God—

First:—For showing his love towards us in the birth of Christ.

When we think how great God is; how many worlds he has made; how many pure and glorious angels he has to serve him; and how many more he could make if he chose, and then think how little we are ourselves, and how little we can do for him, we might well be afraid that he would never take notice of us. It is true, he seems to take care of all; and there is not a little bird that sings but he feeds; and we cannot look into any little flower of the field in the morning, but we shall see in it a drop of dew that God has sent to make it fresh and sweet: and so he feeds us, and takes care of us, and all we have comes from him. But then it is so easy for him to do so. As he sits upon his high throne he has but to open his hand, and plenty rains down from it, for all the living beings he has made. If he only says, “Let it be done,” no matter what it is, it is done at once. May he not then take care of us without thinking about us, or loving us much, after all?

So we find the heathen, who have no Bible, though they may believe in God, seem always to be afraid of him than to think of him as a God of love. But when we read of the birth of Jesus Christ, and know that he is the Son of God—God himself—who has come all the way to earth to live among people on earth for a little while, as a child, as a lad, and then as a man, we must see how God loves us, and how much he thinks of us.

Heaven is a very bright and happy place. There is no trouble there. There are no storms, no winters, no dark nights there. The leaves of the trees never wither; the flowers are always blooming; and there are no thorns, nor briers, nor waste places where nothing can grow. There is no sickness among those who live in heaven. They never suffer any pains. They are never tired. They never die. Those happy angels never have shed one tear in all their happy lives. They never quarrel nor hate one another; nor fight, nor steal, nor kill each other; and heaven was Jesus Christ’s home. Yet he loved us so much that he came from heaven into this sad and unhappy world. He put himself into our nature, and had a body and a soul like ours. He lived among wicked men. He became so poor that he had no home to live in, and they treated him cruelly, and hated him; so that he was “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,” until he was put to death on the cross. He knew all this would happen to him when he came into the world, and yet he came, to show us how much he loved us, and how much he wished us to love him. O! How much must he love this world, when he thinks of the time he lived here for our sakes! How much must he love men when he remembers how he was a man! How much must he pity us when we are in trouble—for he had so much trouble himself! How much must he pity poor people, when he looks back upon the time when he was poor, and “had not where to lay his head!” How much must he love little children who love him, when he thinks of the manger at Bethlehem, where he slept as a little child.

Let us praise and glorify God as we think how much he loved us, and showed it by being born a little child. Surely he who loved us so much, then, will love us always, if we love him. Surely he who gave himself to us, will give us every thing that is good for us, if we ask and thank him for it. Surely we ought to love him best of all, who loved us so much, and is willing to love us still.
But there is another reason why we should glorify and praise God for giving us such a great Savior as Jesus Christ.

We are not only poor and little in his eyes, but we are also sinners. All our troubles, and sickness, and death, have been brought on us by our sins; and, what is worse, they are but the beginning of the trouble, and pain, and death that will come upon the sinner, who continues to be wicked, in another world. If God does not forgive us our sins, we shall be miserable forever in hell, among the devils. But God would rather save us than punish us forever. He wishes to bring us back to his love; that, instead of going to hell, we may go to heaven when we die: and he sent Jesus Christ into the world, that he might be our Savior.

We had broken his law, and God had said that he would love none who did not keep it; and Jesus Christ came and obeyed that law, that his father might love us for his sake. We deserve to die forever, because God had said that those who sin must die forever. But Jesus Christ died upon the cross in our stead. He died that we might not die.

God loved his Son so much, that he will take His death in place of the death of all those who are sorry for their sins, and who hope he will pardon them for Christ’s sake.

And now Jesus Christ, after living for us, and dying for us, has gone up to heaven to intercede for us, that God would hear us when we pray, and give us his pardon and his love, and every thing that we need.

O, when we think what Christ came into the world for, of all he suffered in his life of sadness, and his death of pain, and of how much he thinks of us now; and then think again that he is the great God, the very God we have sinned against, and whom we have made angry with us, ought we not to love him, and be sorry for our sins, and believe in his name?

We should glorify and praise God, too, for setting us such a good example in the life of Jesus Christ. We always know to do a thing better when we see it done, than when we are only told how to do it. So God thought; and though he had given us his holy commandments, and told us in many ways what we ought to do, yet, because we are very ignorant and foolish, he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to become a man, that he might do what we are to do; and we know how to do all, by knowing how he did. So that now, if we only do as Christ did, we are sure that we are right.

He has set an example for us all. If we are young children, we see how Christ did when he was a little child. He loved his mother Mary, and her husband Joseph, who was like a father to him, and he obeyed them in all they said: for he was subject unto his parents. So all children who are like Jesus Christ, and wish him to love them, will love their fathers and mothers, or teachers, and do what they say. He grew in wisdom as he grew older: and so all good children who love Jesus Christ, will love to learn and become wiser every day. But especially did he love his Father in heaven, and learned his will, as you find when he went up to the temple at Jerusalem, and said he “must be about his Father’s Business;” by which he meant, that he should always serve his Father in heaven, and do what was for his glory. So all children who love Jesus Christ, will love to pray to their Father in heaven, and study the Bible, and attend at the place of worship; remembering that they are not their own masters, but God’s children.

Besides, we see that he was patient, and waited until his Father called him to act like a man, before he went out into the world to act for himself.

So all good children who wish to be like Jesus Christ, must not think that they are wise as men and women; but wait until they grow older before they contradict and become stubborn  in thinking they are right, and everybody else is wrong. You may think you know a great deal now, my dear children; but you will not—at least I hope you will not—think so by and by. Those people who think they know the most, particularly little people, are always the greatest fools, and get the most laughed at of anybody.

Christ has set an example for us all: for though he was first a child, he afterwards became a man. Are we poor and obliged to work for our living?—Christ was poor—and if we bear our poverty as meekly and patiently as he did, he will love us the more, because we are poor and like him. I have heard of people who are very angry at being called servants, though they are servants, and are paid wages for doing their work. But Christ was a servant. He “took upon him the form of a servant,” when he was born; and once we find that he waited on his own disciples like a servant, and washed their feet.

The name of servant is an honorable name; and if we only serve God in serving others, we shall be the brethren of Christ; and all good Christians will love good servants for Christ’s sake. Better to be a pious servant, than a wicked king.

Are we rich?—We ought not to be proud of it, or of our fine clothes and handsome houses, and the many good things that we have, and so despise poor people; because Christ was rich: he owned everything; for he made everything. All we have is from him, and he can dress a little lily finer than a prince; yet he was so humble and meek, that he laid all aside, and came to bless poor people, and to take all that love him to a beautiful home in heaven. So, if we would be like Christ, instead of being proud, we should remember that we are so poor as to have nothing but what Christ gives, and use our money in helping the poor, in feeding and clothing the needy, and in giving Bibles and good books to those who have none, and in sending missionaries to teach the ignorant and wandering the way to heaven.

Are we in trouble? Christ was always in trouble while he was on earth; but he bore it all without murmuring, because it was his good Father’s will. So should we drink the cup our Father gives us; and although it may seem bitter at first, if we receive it patiently, it shall be very sweet in the end. Trouble, if we profit by it, is the way to heaven, for it is the way in which Christ went there.

All Christ’s life was spent in doing his Father’s will, and in doing good to men. It was his meat and drink to do his Father’s will; and he came all the way from heaven to earth to save the souls of those that were ready to perish. The same love that made him pity men’s souls, made him pity their bodies when they were in want or pain. Almost every day of his life, after his baptism, we find him working a miracle to feed hungry people; or healing some sick, or blind, or lame person; or raising up someone from the dead. But his chief business was to save souls. So, if we would be true Christians, we must follow Christ; we must serve God all our lives, and be always trying to do good to our fellow-creatures; and more than all, in trying to save their souls by his divine blessing.

Let us now learn a few lessons from the birth of Christ.

1. We must become as little children if we would enter the kingdom of Christ.

Christ was given to us as the pattern of a Christian; and we see that he was born from the power of God. So we must be born again by the Spirit of God; and as God dwelt in the human nature of Christ, so must God the Holy Spirit dwell in us, that we may be able to live Christian lives.

Christ began his life on earth from the earliest infancy, and never ceased serving God and doing good till the end of it. So we can never begin serving God too soon. We ought never to put off being Christians until we become older; for our whole lives are little enough to give him.

When we devote our youth to God, ‘Tis pleasing in his eyes:
A flower, when offered in the bud,
Is no vain sacrifice.
‘Tis easier work if we begin
To serve the Lord betimes;
While sinners that grow old in sin,
Are hardened in their crimes.
‘Twill save us from a thousand snares,
To mind religion young;
Grace will preserve our following years,
And make our virtues strong.

So, if we be young, we ought to begin to serve God at once, that all our lives may be spent for him: and that is the reason why Christ loves to have little children come to him, they look so like what he was when he began to serve God on earth. If we be old, the more reason that we should not put off serving him, because we have so little time (who can tell how little?) to serve him in.

We must begin the Christian life as little children. They know nothing, and then begin to learn. So must we, no matter how much we know of other things, come to Christ to be taught, as though we had never known anything before. We must be willing to begin at the beginning, as Christ himself did, by becoming a little child, and learn from God the things that belong to salvation.

We must feel ourselves to be weak and helpless as little children, looking to Christ for all that we need, and leaning upon him. How feeble was the infant Jesus, in his mother’s arms? How dependent is a little child upon his parents for food, for clothing, for instruction? So must we become the little children of God, to be carried in Christ’s arms, to be fed by his grace, and clothed by his righteousness; and taught by his Spirit, and led by his hand. Until we have such simple faith, we do not begin the Christian life.

2.  We must be humble.

Christ was humble. He became a poor little child. He says, “Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls.” What a shame it is for anyone to be proud, when the Son of God was so humble? Humility is the root of the Christian character. The tallest oak tree in the forest grew from a little root, low, in the ground. If you cut that root, the tree dies, no matter how high and strong its branches may seem to be. So, unless we begin low, and keep our thoughts and prayers towards heaven, we shall never make true Christians. God hates proud people, but he gives grace to the humble.

3. We must be full of love and kindness.

It was love and kindness that made Christ our Savior. We are not Christians until we share in Christ’s loving-kindness, and be full of love and kindness to all around us. The best way to keep Christians, is first to give god thanks for his love and kindness to us, and then to show love and kindness to those who need our help. The best Christmas feast for a Christian’s heart, is making some poor person happy by our goodness for Christ’s sake.

I will only add some words of good St. Bernard.

There were four fountains in Paradise that sent forth living waters. So, there are four fountains opened by the birth of Christ in the kingdom of God.

There is the fountain of mercy, in which we may wash away our sins.

There is the fountain of heavenly wisdom, where we may drink in holy thoughts and feelings.

There is the fountain of the Spirit’s Grace, where we may drink in life and power to do God’s will.

And there is the fountain of holy zeal, which sends forth the waters of pious charity to refresh us, as we go on the way to heaven.

Let us then “draw waters with joy out of these wells of salvation.”

The End.

*Originally Posted: Dec. 24, 2016

Sermon – Christian Patriot – Boston, 1840

Rev. Mellish Irving Motte (1801-1881) was originally from Charleston, South Carolina. He obtained a Bachelors of Arts from Harvard in 1821 and became pastor of the South Congregational Church in Boston on May 21, 1828.

In this 1840 sermon, Rev. Motte encourages Christians to fully engage the culture, especially in the political arena. He decries politicians acting out of self-interest and greed rather than making decisions based upon what is morally right and wrong. Motte insists that religious morality is the very first manifestation of true patriotism and “Public virtue is the strongest spirit of national vitality.” He reminds his listeners that nations must be judged in the present since they do not exist in eternity and national ruin awaits national unrighteousness. Rev. Motte states that America’s Fathers founded the country on Christian principles and intended for the United States to be a Christian nation. According to Motte, the realization of this goal is to be found in individual piety and allegiance to righteousness over any political party.


The Christian Patriot
A
Sermon
Delivered at the
South Congregational Church,
Boston, July 5, 1840

By M. I. Motte

Psalm 144:15
Happy is that people, whose God is the Lord

One of the most common of mistaken and false forms, into which religion is apt to run, is an isolated piety, and abstract and independent devotion; religion separated from the business of life, instead of being woven up, conscientiously, with all its concerns. For convenience’ sake, we have a particular day, and place, and order of men, and class of exercises, especially devoted to the consideration of the great topic; but it is that its influence may be made to run through all days and places, all intercourse, every subject and employment. Yet the church has every been prone, even more than it conscious of, to sever itself from the world, instead of leavening it to its own spirit; and the same man, in his church relations, is a Christian, or would grieve not to be considered and to consider himself so, who, in some of his worldly interests and pursuits, is absolutely an atheist, living without God in his thoughts.

On no subject us thus more obvious, than on the one, from which it is most unfortunate in our country religion should be driven off, seeing it is that which agitates more people here than any other, viz. the whole business of politics. Religion and politics are spoken of as opposite poles, the positive and the negative as the acknowledgment of God is concerned. We hear it said, politics are of no particular religion; and it is too often true, in a more absolute sense than is intended. It would seem, at first, as if both subject were so important, so exciting, that the human hear is hardly large enough for both. (3) When we speak of a man as a politician preeminently, one enthusiastically absorbed in the affairs of the nation, or more probably of a party, we do not expect to find him in a church. And when a zealot for churches is invited to the polls, he seems to answer to the purpose, when he replies, “My Master’s kingdom is not of this world.” If he is a clergyman, the professional response expected from him is, “I have nothing to do with politics;” and only those object to this, who suppose, if he voted at all, he would vote with them; to all others he seems to have made the natural and legitimate reply. Both of these men are wrong, but they both point the direction in which public prejudice blows.

Our festivals, again, are either political or religious; not both together. There would seem to be something incompatible and profane, or absurd, in making them both. Such an anniversary as yesterday is not strikingly a religious day; as tomorrow’s published list of its outrages and truculent mishaps in all our cities will attest. Early in the morning, trains may be seen leaving the city by every outlet, anxious to escape the celebration of the National Independence. And, when the day of the month falls upon the first day of the week, its celebration is postponed till Monday; as if confessedly impossible to bring its spirit to into harmony with the Christian Sabbath.

All this shows, not the politics and religion are necessarily inconsistent, – for the former, I suppose, is a duty as really as the latter, and all duties should be performed in the fear of God, – but it shows, that the spirit of politics which prevails is not the right one. The good of our country should be provided for, as in the sight of God, and in sacred love to our fellow-men; and then it is a holy service, and need not be dissevered from the solemnest ministrations of devotions. It is one of the modes of worship with which the Universal Father is well pleased; one of the forms of his appointed ceremonial of religion pure and undefiled, which consists in going about doing good for his sake. But, if it is only a selfish, headlong, intemperate scramble for preeminence, if it is mercenary, not moral, in its spirit, a question of interest, not of right, the Sabbath is too good a day for it, and so is every other day.

Interest is to be regarded as well as right; but do not all political parties appeal too exclusively to the former? A reverence for right is not held high enough, as the guiding polar star for the opinions of the people. The people think, morality is a matter of home and neighborly intercourse, not involved in the vote they cast, and the opinions they express, on the acts of government, encouraging or condemning. How seldom is the guilt of upholding iniquitous public measures reflected on, as good men reflect on private violations of the ten Commandments. They may do infinitely more mischief than an individual’s misdemeanor, and yet many deem it a little thing. Men seem to think they may hold what opinions, and belong to what parties they please, without regard to their truth or effects, except as affecting themselves; as if politics were a lawless region, always out of Christendom, and from which even conscious was excluded by general consent. Look through the community and the world, and see how, on almost every question, you may draw a line between parties, accurately coinciding with the line between their interests. You need not ask, on which side a man’s convictions lie, if you only know on which side his wishes lie. The coincidence is certainly remarkable; and melancholy it is to reflect on the wide heartlessness it indicates. Here we see men fair-minded in every other concern, men of severe religious sanctity, of nice honor, of scrupulous integrity in their personal transactions, where the welfare of a few immediate connections or acquaintances is at stake; but, when millions lose though the prevalence of an opinion, the first and only thought that seems to occur to them is, How will it affect us, and I our lowest interests? And, if it promise to be lucrative, forthwith they adopt that opinion, and if their soul’s salvation hung upon it.

They adopt that opinion, I said; But can it be possible, that men always do really believe as if for their interests? Can they be conscientious, in such innumerable cases, arriving, through the careful and dispassionate examination, at precisely the result that happens to favor the views and wishes? I allow a great deal for the blinding power of self-interest; but this uniform concurrence of hope and belief is astonishing still. These same people will reason as clearly as daylight on any argument which comes within the tenth of an inch of their own concerns without touching it; but, the moment it touches, their light is darkened, their logical acumen is blunted, their perceptions evince a certain unfortunate obliquity, which is sure to twist their notions in one invariable direction. Can this be right? Can it be honest? We know, or we might know, if we chose, that truth and justice cannot always, and on every accidental question and measure, be in our favor. We are bound, at any rate, not to take it for granted. Let us inquire. Let us make up our minds to lose so many dollars, relinquish a few prejudices, and partialities, and expectations, rather than lose probity, the approbation that speaks within, all generosity of soul, and the smiles of God. Let us not be satisfied to be guilty, because the guilt is shared with a multitude. Away with injustice and ungenerosity, though only in thought, however popular, however fashionable. So shall we do our part to bring into currency a more elevated and uncompromising tone of political honor and conscience; and the whole regions of politics be no longer but as the Barbary States of moral geography, outlawed lands and piratical seas, from which are excluded all faith and virtue, all laws of God and man.

Politics should be but one form of that charity which is the end of the divine law. One more of benevolence, one of the ministrations of philanthropy; and “Holiness to the Lord” be inscribed over the portals of its halls of state and the chambers of its social festivals, as over the church door. Especially with us should this be aimed at on triple grounds. For, if political parties with us cannot be Christian parties, then are we a godless nation; there can be few Christians throughout the length and breadth of the land; since he, who is no politician under our institutions, is a solitary rarity.

Then, if they believe their own declamations, puffing up so unweariedly the national vanity, we are the most favored people on which the sun shines, at least, as regards all that God has done for us; and the Giver of all good should, least of all, be ungratefully overlooked by us. All the flights of rhetoric, that yesterday glittered over this continent, all the floods of panegyric that were sounded forth upon ourselves and our institutions and advantages, should they not all reecho, at least in and undertone whisper in reason’s ear, as if saying, To whom much is given, of them much will be required?

And, then, to make all that is given to us safe for us, and to expect a blessing continuance, we must remember God, and insist on a religious morality as the very first manifestation of a true patriotism. Ay, patriotism, that most abused words. Alas! That it is every vaunted and bravadoed by the scoffer and the profligate, not knowing, that blessed is that people, and that alone, whose God is the Lord. Without him they may speak great swelling words of vanity; but bombastic professions and oratorical displays are not the disinterested self-denial and sober toils of a virtuous citizen, who fears God and honors government, and serves and saves the state without boasting. He alone is a patriot. By such alone the country stands.

The Ruler of nations hath uttered the decree. From beginning of time his world has illustrating it. As surely as he is just and the King of nations as of individuals; as surely as there is truth taught by experience, and the unvarying certainty of the same effects from the same causes, according to the natural constitution he has impressed on his universe, the past, in all quarters of the globe, bids us look well to it. You may be the traitor within the garrison, though treason to the country be furthest from your thoughts. You may invoke ruin upon it when you are shouting, louder than any, the glory of its institutions. You may be the deadly enemy, though you shed your blood for it. Look into the nature of things. When hath a righteous nation perished? Where is there one doing justice and judgment, and it is not well with it? Public virtue is the strongest spirit of national vitality; and private virtue is the life-blood, coursing through every artery and vein, large and small, of the public institutions.

On the other hand, is it not undeniable from reason, scripture, and experience, that predominance of selfish principles and corrupt morals is the unfailing cause of calamities, perplexities, and ruin in a country? Reason tells us, that the character of the Judge of all the earth is the pledged to have it so. Vice, in the individual, may not always meet its retribution, nor virtue its reward, in this world, because there is to be another, of more perfect retribution for individuals. But nations exist here alone. Unlike the soul, they are annihilated at their temporal dissolution. Therefore, if their fortunes and fate be subject of the Divine Providence, to their present existence, which is the only one, must be applied the principle of its moral rule.

The scriptures confirm this rule, and do not restrict it to the theocracy of Israel. They say; “O Israel, thou hast fallen by thine iniquity; your iniquities have turned away good things and withheld them from you.” But it is not of Israel alone, (of whom it might be said, God was, in a peculiar way, a Governor by temporal sanctions,) that he announces this principle of legislation. His declarations are general. “At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation and concerning a kingdom, to build up and to plant it; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice, then I will repent of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them. In the hand of the Lord, there is a cup, and the wine is red. It is full mixed, and he poureth out of the same. As for the dregs thereof, all the ungodly of the earth shall drink them.”

And the experience of mankind puts the impressive truth beyond dispute. What is history but, on this account, like the Prophet’s, a scroll written, within and without, with lamentation, and mourning, and woe. Pity weeps as she unrolls its venerable annals. Its oldest records present the Cities of the Plain set forth for an example of the national ruin, that full surely awaits national unrighteousness. “Ten righteous men could not be found in them,” and they perished. Even to an earlier page the genius of history points, and sighs over the ravages of the flood. “All flesh had corrupted their ways before the Flood.” And we stand aghast at the sweeping catastrophe. Turn over a few pages onward, and direct your attention to the chosen people. See them, at one time, visited with pestilence, famine, conflagration, tempest; at another, falling under the sword, or languishing in captivity, feeling before the scourge of war, or terrified with awful phenomena of nature, and all these proclaimed the retributory angels of the Lord, the ministers of his justice for their sins. The wisdom of their wise men was taken away, and the understanding of their prudent men hid; and it was moral debasement that did it. Their cities, the places of their fathers’ sepulchers, were laid waste, and the gates thereof consumed with fire; and, in all the seasons of their affliction, mark the moral shade running though the history in proportioned intenseness; mark idolatry and its bitter fruit, general profligacy, tempting them to forget their God.

Read of a later day, travel among the scenes of profane chronicles, if you would see, that national vice is national suicide. Stand upon the moldering ruins of a thousand cities, once great and fair, and seek, – you will seek in vain, – for trace or even site of many others; and ask where are they, and why have they vanished from the earth? Roam through the desolated territories of empires, once splendid and mighty, and, as you brood over the gloomy vestiges of their decay, cannot find an inhabitant for many a mile, where throngs were loud and busy once, ask yourself, if integrity, industry, humanity, temperance, piety, and purity were rife there, when the besom of destruction came to sweep a tomb under those wide-spread ruins.

Thus history or travel will conduct you over the globe, and everywhere teach the same salutary lesson. They will point to empire after empire, and dynasty after dynasty, shriveling and shrinking with the imbecility of moral corruption; and it is not more sure, that the palaces of their pride, and the monuments of their perverted might, are crumbling into dust, than that other empires and other dynasties, now treading in their steps, will follow them to decay and desolation. O that our beloved land may be wise from the lesson! And the lesson is more pertinent under our republican polity, than under any other. If righteousness exalteth a nation, and sin is a reproach and ruin to any people, most speedily of all must it prove so to a people without the restraints of a strong government. Liberty and licentiousness roll trippingly off the tongue together; they flow, unseparated, from the lips of many, with easy alliteration and commonplace proverbialness, as if they were almost the same thing, or one inevitably followed the other. But, if it does, it is as commonplace a maxim of history, that it will follow it speedily to ruin. Liberty licentiousness, – it is the tritest of proverbs, – cannot coexist lastingly. The free people is the last that can afford to be vicious. The slave may throw off the restraints of virtue, and yet be kept in order by the restraints of despotism. But, when a freeman does not govern himself, he is ungoverned, so to speak, and careering to perdition; like the uncurbed wild ass of the desert, rushing to the precipice he tosses his head too high to see.

Therefore, every immoral republican is a traitor and conspirator against his government, as much as if, being the subject of a king, he pointed a dagger against his life. He is spreading stratagems and snares for the feet of his sovereign; for public virtue is his sovereign. He is seeking to blind, and deafen, and lame, and cripple, and make wholly inefficient, and worse than inefficient, he is seeking to corrupt, into tyrannical wantonness and cruelty, the most beneficent monarch that ever sat upon a throne.

So that you see, my brethren, in addition to every other motive for being good Christians, patriotism should be one. After we have turned away from the voice of God; after we have steeled our hearts to the claims of him who died upon Calvary, the just for the unjust, the he might bring us to God; after we have besotted our minds to act the fool’s part of blindness to our own interest; there is yet one appeal which may not be lost upon our generosity, one consideration that should be sufficient; public spirit, the love of our country. Its welfare is resting on our individual virtue. For as drops of water make up the ocean, and grains of sand constitute vast continents, so the personal character of the humblest individual among us adds something, for weal or for woe, to that national character, by which the land of our love, the government which has cherished us, will stand or fall. Our native soil, the scene of our happy childhood, the land of our fathers, the land where we have enjoyed so much, where we expect so much, and from which the world expects so much, shall it realize these expectations? Shall it become, as has been so fondly anticipated, the glory of the nations, has the perfection of beauty, the joy of the whole earth, showing what man can do with unshackled energies and faculties ripely developed in the wholesome air of liberty? Or shall it be one more byword and mockery of the aspirations and pretensions of freedom.

Think of this, when tempted to any wicked or base act. Above all, think of it when tempted to into any of the peculiar and besetting snares, and betraying exaggerations and caricatures of liberty; to vicious license, to lawlessness and recklessness of restraint, to inebriate zeal, party prejudice, bigoted factiousness, mob-rioting, passionate reviling of the powers that be, or the powers that are to be, and all bitter or mercenary partisanship. Remember, when tempted to any of these, you are tempted then to disappoint so many noble souls, the lovers of their kind, in every quarter of the globe, the enthusiasts for the advancement of the human race to a pitch of excellence and enjoyment yet unrealized, but the guaranty for which they look for in the great experience of self-government now trying on these shores.

The old world may be said to be leaning, with feverish anxiety, over the ocean to catch every symptom of the success or failure of his experiment. Have pity on the last hopes on man. Let is not be said again, as it was by the dying Brutus, after he had sacrificed all to realize a patriot’s dream; “O virtue, I have worshipped thee as a reality, and found thee but a shadow.” Let it not be said, again, as it was by the noble-hearted Madame Roland, as, on her way to the guillotine to lose her head for continuing a virtuous enthusiast for freedom amidst the herd of vicious, she passed under the statue of Liberty; “O Liberty, how they have played thee! What crimes have been committed in the name!” Ay, how it has been played in the world, historionized, juggled! What crimes have been committed, what crimes have not been committed, in its sacred name? It is assuredly the cloak of boundless evil, when not guarded with most scrupulous probity; for the best things, corrupted, always become the worst. The precious diamond may be blackened into a worthless coal. The sweet name of liberty has become a sound of ill omen and nauseous associations to many of the readers of history, from want of virtue in its votaries. Patriotism has been characterized as the last resource of a villain. Revolutions, said Napoleon, are not made with rosewater; but it were well if blood, and seas of it, were the dearest price paid. Moral corruption is what renders revolutions worse than vain.

Our fathers have made one more trial, knowing that past failures were from want of Christian principle, and that they had settled these shores expressly in obedience to Christian principle, and therefore they might hope. In faith and prayer they struggled; for they felt, that with God all things are possible in the cause of righteousness, and they hoped their children would feel this too. From the first, they set out with the idea of making this community that happy people, whose God is the Lord, – a Christian nation, – what the world had never yet seen, but what all its experience concurred in testifying it must seem or it would never see the amount of prosperity man is capable of attaining on earth. A Christian people! Not merely a sober, industrious people, without religion, if such could be expected, but distinctively a Christian people. Bright and glorious idea, far-seeing wisdom, true friends, and see its kingdoms prospering at this time just in proportion as they come near realizing this idea, other elements of their greatness being the same. Begin from the effete East, and come to the infant West. The nominally Christian are more thriving than the Pagan Mahometan; the Protestant than the Catholic; the praying and Bible-reading, than the ceremonial and formalist; and, so long hypocrisy could be kept out, that people would prosper most, who should require, as the settlers of these New England colonies did, that none but members of the church should be rulers in the state. Such a regulation is a bait for hypocrites, a trap for the consciences of the ambitious, and, therefore, it is not to be enforced after the primitive virtues of the settlement have been corrupted. But, is there were not fear of hypocrisy, verily and indeed happy would be that people, with whom God was effectively their Lord through the strict observances of such a rule. Then might we see such a phenomenon as a Christian people.

As it is, let us, – and it seems more incumbent on us than on any nation that lives in the sun’s more expressive, than as a mere geographical term. When we are called a Christian nation, let us allow more the meant, than that we are not savages or barbarians, or only semi-civilized, as all those nations are in which Christianity is unknown. Christian should be more than European or American, as distinguished from Asiatic or African. It should be more than latitude and longitude; more than eastern or western, northern or southern; more than tropics and zones, equator and ecliptic, arctic or antarctic.

And how can we make a Christian nation? To become so, must be an individual, not a collective act. Legislation cannot do it, if legislation would. Resolves of majorities, in caucus or in Congress, in towns or by states, or even unanimous votes, is not the way to affect it. The simple and sole process is for each person privately to resolve, for his single part, no influence in legislative deliberations, no political name or fame whatever, – nay, the shrinking woman and child, whose deliberations look not beyond the homestead, or who can legislate only over their own hearts, – these can add a stone, as truly as the mightiest statesman or the loudest demagogue, to build up the national temple to the Lord. Public opinion is the life-breath of our own government, and therefore to Christianize that, we have but to Christianize ourselves. O what it is ye may achieve! No such power as this is possessed by the subjects of any government but yours. They cannot regenerate their sovereign. They cannot even pray for his conversion with hope, the assurance, of the prayer being granted if sincere, which may warm your breasts.

And is there a consideration of earth or heaven, that is not present and potent to move us to this prayer? Pour it out to God, if righteousness would have but the promise of the life that now is. If a majority of the citizens were sincere followers of Jesus Christ, is it not evident, the councils of this nation would be wiser and mightier, its progress more glorious, its dominion even more potent than any the world has ever seen? The day when it shall be resolved, that the same evangelical principles shall govern states that govern churches and gospel professors in their private relations, would be the true jubilee of freedom. That will be the mind’s and the soul’s declaration of independence. That will be breaking every yoke at length from body, and heart, and spirit. Thenceforth slavery, in any form, would be but a tradition and a name; whereas now it is the commonest of conditions, and to the mass liberty is but a name; for he that serveth any sin is the slave of sin. That day will come, when the people choose.

Choose it, resolve it, O my brethren, as the first of civil duties. Whatever your party predilections, sacrifice them all for the party of righteous men. Support no administration, and oppose none, but one the ground of moral principle. Go with them as far as Jesus Christ would go, and no further. Read the constitution by the light of the Gospel. The Savior be your paramount leader.

And now I see his communion table before me this day, and I fear all that has been said will seem out of keeping with its solemn associations; so desecrating, as I began with intimating, seems any allusion to the politician’s trade. But let me hope I have not spoken all in vain. Follow it in the spirit in which you come here to the house of the Lord himself. You are performing a solemn act of worship then, if you feel it aright. You should enter upon office, you should deposit your vote for office, with a religious sense of accountableness, like that which makes you so serious when you handle the emblems of the Savior’s body and blood.

Approach his table because you would be good citizens, among the other reasons of the act; because you love, and you serve and save, your country; because you would have it long free; because you would be truly free yourselves. Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. If his Son shall make your free, ye shall be free indeed. Where he is not the deliverer, men may clamor, and boast, and carouse, and with bacchanalian revelry call themselves free but they are the bondmen of corruption, the thralls of Satan. O be ye, unlike them, the freedmen of the Lord, whose service is perfect freedom.

Sermon – Thanksgiving – 1852 Massachusetts


A sermon preached on Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1852, by Reverend Joseph Hodges, Jr. in North Oxford.


sermon-thanksgiving-1852-massachusetts

A
Sermon
Delivered in North Oxford,
On the day of
Thanksgiving,
Nov. 25, 1852.
By  Rev. Joseph Hodges Jr.
Pastor of the Baptist Church.

Sermon
Psalm LXVIII [68]:19.
Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our Salvation.

The psalm from which our text is selected, is deemed one of the most excellent and sublime portions of the Sacred Scriptures. It was sung, most probably, on some public and joyous occasion, when the ark was carried to Mount Zion: possibly, after a successful engagement in battle. It embraces every general topic calculated to excite gratitude and call forth praise, in view of the divine mercy, protection and beneficence. The psalmist, in the rehearsal of these blessing of remembrance, seems to pause and break forth in an expression of praise to God. The effect is very apparent in the mere reading of the psalm; but it is difficult for us to conceive of the full effect when sung by the vast choir who attended the ark, accompanied by so great a number and variety of musical instruments. The triumphs of the Jews, however, looked beyond the mere occasion of them, – temporal triumphs over temporal enemies, — they regarded them as typical of a more glorious one, when the great Messiah should complete his reign. Their minds, thus elated with the present, and moved by a fervid anticipation of the future, amid the imposing multitude, with their overpowering music, must have been excited by a spectacle at once touching to the heart, inspiring to the imagination, and lasting in its associations.

It is indeed, in a manner less imposing, that we are called upon to offer our tribute of praise and thanksgiving. Amid the current of life, our usual duties and avocations, the routine of common events and obligation, it is appropriate for us to pause, and at this season of our annual festival, lift up our humble voice in praise to our usual fruitful harvest, and to engage in other worthy pursuits and enterprises, the results of which furnish evidence of general prosperity. Every useful undertaking has been sustained. Though sin and trouble, losses and accidents, sickness and death, are the usual lot of some, from which none are entirely exempt, amid it all there has been the good hand of a wise Governor and Benefactor to guide, to deal out the blessings of life, and to overrule all events of prosperity or adversity, for the happiness of all.

It would be appropriate to recount the many favors of heaven, to specify the instances of mercy and goodness common to us as individuals or a community. There might be drawn out a long catalogue of benefits, with which the good Providence of God has loaded us, and each so presented, as to excite afresh in our breast delightful emotions of gratitude. These benefits would not be unlike those, which have often, almost annually occurred. God, in his Providence, as you are aware, gives, withholds, and controls, so as not only to affect the mind and heart with a sense of the blessings bestowed, to produce the feeling of gladness; but to stimulate withal a sense of obligation in respect to enterprise and activity. We feel bound not only to laud our great Benefactor, but we are moved by our gratitude to adopt and carry out plans of serving him which shall result in the good of the world and to His honor.

If therefore, instead of recounting these benefits, I refer you to the enterprises and improvements which have grown out of these favors, and which are calculated to stimulate us to greater exertions, to engage in more elevated employments, I may accomplish quite as good a service.

In prosecution of the object which I have suggested, time will allow me only to glance at some of the improvements in agriculture and manufactures, with which we are more intimately connected, and refer to the condition of education amongst us, as associated with the various branches of industry.

Agriculture I may name as a science, as well as an art, of the first importance. Some may be disposed to smile because this employment is spoken of as science. As it has been too often conducted, or neglected, it may seem to be the business of the most limited capacities of the most ordinary calculators, for those alone who can perform drudgery. Too often we fear that this sentiment has been taken for granted by farmers themselves, and hence they have plodded on, too much in the same old track. Hence the rest of the world is in advance of them, and their sons frequently leave them to follow less honorable callings. It is however at the foundation of all other employments, and no less dignified, healthy, or profitable. Its study and practice will serve to develop improvements, resources, strength, and health, as much certainly as any other. A glance at the earlier ages of the world will afford us some idea of the improvements which have taken place. If we may use Jahn as authority; and I know of no better, we must conclude that the implements first employed for husbandry were of the rudest construction, and so continued to be with comparatively little change for ages. Instead of shovels and spades, only sharpened sticks and flattened pieces of wood were used. The plow was made of a bent bough sharpened at one end, requiring the greatest strength and attention to hold it. The harrow was nothing more than a cluster of limbs of trees, thrown together so as to scratch the soil, tear apart the clods, and level somewhat the earth. Every other farming implement was of the same rude character. To perceive the improvements in this branch of business, we need not go further back than our own boyhood. Compare the implements then in use with those now, both as to form and adaptation, and we are struck with the change. Hence the ease and rapidity with which we prepare the land, sow the seed, and reap the harvest. And many are the improvements for gathering fruits and grain, mowing and raking, pulling up stumps by their roots, sinking rock, ditching meadows, irrigating hills, and converting marshes into arable fields. Science has taught us how resuscitate worn-out lands and to make the rich richer. No man who has land paid for, a house to live in, and information which may be gained in our common schools, with a good paper on farming, with health and energy, need be destitute. As much, however, depends on the head as the hands, yea more. There are needed, activity, investigation, perseverance and economy. And on this festival day, when so much of the farmer’s care and productions are brought to our board, in token of our thankfulness we are bound to understand and carry out in the world the improvements which, under a kind Providence, have been developed. Nor should we stop with the present. We should not live without leaving our mark somewhere, in and on our age; such as shall call forth the gratitude of another generation for what we have done; such as shall stimulate that generation to do more, and become wiser, than the former. Thus from generation to generation, the capabilities for the production of fruits shall abundantly manifest that agriculture is in no respect inferior to any other employment in dignity, usefulness, tastes, or health.

It would be interesting to trace the history of improvements in manufactures from the earliest times to the present. We are struck with the improvements in the structure of machinery, and the architecture of the mills within the last twenty-five years. This is true of all manufactories. We have specimens of art in the manufacture of cloth in ancient times, that would compete with those of modern, possibly in beauty, texture, and durability. But the long process and great labor mad these fabric expensive and rare. None but kings and princes could afford to be clothed in soft raiment and embroidered garments. Formerly cotton was deemed the richest and most costly fabric, now the commonest and cheapest. Under what inconveniences too, in the earlier days was cloth woven and garments fabricated? The Israelites had learned the art among the Egyptians and became their superiors. They were the New Englanders among the Southerners. On their tedious return to Palestine, they wove curtains for the tabernacle rich and beautiful. There was work performed under difficulties which, even in this day, in patient, persevering New England, might be deemed insurmountable. Scarcely less astonished should we be, to view the improved facilities with which we are now favored, compared with the disadvantages under which manufactories were commenced in our county. These very disadvantages were such, however, as to give stimulus to every generous enterprise.

May I not be permitted here to refer to the advantages growing out of our manufactories? That there are evils connected with them, we may not deny. The same may be said of every other enterprise under the sun, and it will be so, so long as human nature remains what it is, under the direction and restraints of similar impulses and influences. The evils are not necessarily of the business, but rather of the nature of the men who conduct and perform it. As the world advances there must necessarily be division of labor. Some may sigh for the time to return when in every family there shall be the loom, the spinning wheel, the shoe bench, the carpenter’s bench, the anvil, the chair-maker, the basket-maker, the broom-maker, the tailor, the dress-maker, as well as the farmer and dairy. And what manufacturers they were! Now as good and honest as those times were, who would roll back the world upon them? Now manufacture, commerce, agriculture, and all other honest employments or professions, help each other. What farmer would get twenty-five or thirty cents per pound for his butter in the country, such a season as this even, were all agriculturists who spun and wove their own cloth, and made their own garments and shoes? I do not speak as a partisan. Not at all. There have been in days gone by, honest differences as to the adoption of various measures in respect to political economy. There may be now. But the trouble was then, and now is, I divine, there was and is needed the light which comes from intercommunication of a practical character- a better understanding, not of theories, but of the working of them. When this light and understanding shall prevail, it will be found that all parties are nearer together than they supposed; that their true interest lies just on the line which divides these party interests, on which only the few quiet ones dare to walk. We need now the farmer, the merchant and manufacturer. Let each in his department adopt the principle “Live and let live.” For this purpose we have the world as the field of our operation. This village, this town, this county of Worchester, this our New England, these United States, none are large enough to operate in. Our action and industry must tell on the whole world. We have been inclined to circumscribe ourselves- or certainly to pen up ourselves within the old thirteen states. – Or perhaps we would somehow have New England set apart, or kept by itself, for fear with all honesty, that its industry, its ingenuity, its learning, its good taste, its good morals and religion, would be lost, no longer identified. But the Providence of God in its operations and developments is wiser than men. The foolishness of our Heavenly Father is wiser than the wisdom of the best of us. There is more wisdom in the plans of heaven that in all the concentrated wisdom of all political parties united, to effect the good of the world. When you have looked on the movements of our day, both of our own country and of Europe, some score of years hence, who shall be permitted to do so, will be fully convinced of this. We need not go to England, or China, of California, or Washington, or Boston, to exert any influence. The elements of this world, so far as intellect and principle are concerned, are elastic; and if you strike one, so as to make an impression, like a row of ivory balls suspended in contact, you affect all the rest. What you have to do then is not to turn from your calling, but act in your proper sphere; laying hold upon the information which comes in your path. If you have a farm to cultivate, do it with your might; as if you meant to accomplish something in this line business. If you have a manufactory to build, go about that most manfully. Whatever you have to lay your hand to that is good and honest, be about it in earnest. It is this spirit of earnestness and honesty and patient industry that has made New England what she is.

But as we are inclined to take pride to ourselves, not only as New England but also as a nation, as we have grown strong in our youth, and lest we might as we approached manhood become insolent, Providence is scattering among us thorns; sending- not the best specimens- the world to us. We may think in our vanity, that it is for the purpose of having them instructed and converted both politically and religiously. Would that they might become in both respects almost and altogether like ourselves, save those bands of Slavery for the South, and the Fugitive Slave law for the North. But may we not learn something from them? This truly; that man is our brother, and wherever he is found, in our country, or far away, in whatever circumstances, should be one with us. In this respect, the world is our country, our state, our town, our neighborhood, and whatever distinctions there may be in some respects, we are naturally dependent on each other. If England, proud in every thing as she is, has yielded to this nation the meed of praise, as superior to her in every useful employment, and awarded us a niche above all the world beside, we should be ambitious to prove ourselves as humane, as true to the world in all its wants and interests, as the mother country has been: not in arms and blood-shed, let what has been in this respect suffice, but in giving what is far more honorable, and the wiser policy, the advantages of civilization and pure christianity, of freedom and peace, through our faith and virtue, honesty and industry, ingenuity and energy, art and science, hope and charity. We have taught the world whatever may be the advantage of division of labor in its general character, that no artisan in free New England need confine himself to making the twentieth part of a pin. So sorry an account of his life he need not give, if he will but be a man.

True, as yet, but little of the mere polish, the mere ornament, has occupied our attention. What has been done of this character is only a pastime effort, as a matter of temporary gratification. It is rather a matter of accident than aim, that good taste has been combined with utility. Or rather we may infer that whatever is truly arranged for utility and convenience, produces good proportions, beauty, taste, and permanency. This sentiment is well sustained by a graphic writer in the Edinburgh Review. He says: “The tomb of Moses is unknown; but the traveler slakes his thirst at the well of Jacob. The gorgeous palace of the wisest and wealthiest of monarchs, with cedar and the gold and ivory, and even the great Temple at Jerusalem, hallowed by the visible glory of the Deity himself, are gone; but Solomon’s reservoirs are as perfect as ever. Of the ancient architecture of the holy city, not one stone is left upon another; but the pool of Bethesda commands the pilgrim’s reverence at the present day. The columns of Persepolis are molding into dust; but its cisterns and aqueducts remain to challenge our admiration. The golden house of Nero is a mass of ruins; but the Aqua Claudia still pours into Rome its limpid stream. The Temple of the Sun, at Tadmore in the wilderness, has fallen, but its fountain sparkles in its rays, as when thousands of worshippers thronged its lofty colonnades. It may be London will share the fate of Babylon, and nothing be left to mark it, save mounds of crumbling brickwork. The Thames will continue to flow as it does now. And if any work of art should rise over the deep ocean, time, we may well believe, that it will be neither a palace nor a temple, but some vast aqueduct or reservoir; and if any name should flash through the mist of antiquity, it will probably be that of the man who in his day, sought the happiness of his fellow-men rather than glory, and linked his memory to some great work of national utility and benevolence. This is the true glory, which outlives all others, and shines with undying luster from generation to generation, imparting to works some of its own immortality, and in some degree rescuing them from the ruin which overtakes the ordinary monument of historical tradition, or mere magnificence.”

Utility has ever been the watch-word of American genius, and we are happy that it is so. Even in our more ornamental literature we discern it. A tribute is everywhere paid to utility- so that if one seeks to gratify his love of the beautiful and true, for their own sake, he manifests a disposition to vindicate his course on the score of utility.  Our sweet poetry betrays it.

“Not useless are ye, flowers, though made for pleasure,
Blooming o’er fields and wave by day and night;
From every source your sanction bids me treasure
Harmless delight.”

I am inclined to think that utility and beauty are more nearly allied than we are generally disposed to allow. Are not strength and beauty usually combined? Is it not the strong and beautifully proportioned ship that weathers the most storms and outrides the most gales? Is it not the stateliest, the noblest, and hardiest trees, that gain strength through the pelting of a hundred winters? Now nature has furnished the outline, and made the suggestion which we as its learners should carry out in our enterprise. We are struck with the beauty, and acknowledge the advantages of natural scenery. View the valley of French River. Who as he passes along its stream, beholding the hills rising on either side in beauty and loveliness, extending in graceful and undulating curves, furnishing here and there a lively perspective; interspersed, as it was in early autumn, with trees reflecting from their changing foliage every variety of shade, giving a most picturesque and romantic appearance- not the less so on a misty, drizzly day like one of our October Sabbaths, than in the sunshine; -when the leaves and trees seemed fairy pictures, surrounding us with hills and vales of paradise, not in the soberness of reality, but in the beautiful wildness of a dream; as the gorgeous coloring of the imagination, or a rare deceptions of the painter’s skill, or some enchanted view which at best was a happy illusion. Can we say less, than that nature, in her suggestion of beauty as a model of taste, has done her part? But what do we behold amid this delightful landscape, where dashes along, eternally murmuring, the stream which gives name to the valley, itself full of beauty! Do we not here perceive utility? What constitutes the beauty, furnishes also the power which the ingenuity of man has improved, and thus added excellence and life to the picturesque scenery. But has man fully carried out the suggestion of nature? Some little more attention to the planting and nurturing of fruit and shade trees and shrubbery and flowers around our manufactories, dwelling houses, school houses, and house of worship, where the ancient forest has been torn up, would render this valley of the French River on of the most beautiful, unique, and inviting in the land! This might be the result without the expenditure of much money, time or labor. It would be better than a holiday for young persons to start out on some spring-like morning, collect and plant young trees which might take root and live many generations. This would be less fatiguing and much more satisfactory in the end than what is often done. Many a one, to enjoy a holiday, will hasten to the city and swelter in the sun, chasing pleasure which is ever eluding their grasp. Here, in the pastime of planting trees, there would ensue a living satisfaction; a satisfaction continuing and enhancing with the length of life. Here are change of employment, pastime, stimulus to the mind, interest, exercise, and utility, all combined. Besides it would more than gratify. It would cultivate a love for the beautiful, and serve to produce correct taste, drawn from nature herself.

Sometimes indeed, we have views of the sublime in nature which seem to cast into the background the beautiful. The grand cataract, the overshadowing mountain, the wild tornado, the tempest at sea, and the battle-field even, are accounted grand and sublime. The final results of each may be utility. Such, however, are rare. So in life there are projects and actions and engagements which may correspond. Amid destruction and terror, utility in the end may ensue. But the sunrise, the sunset, the sunlight, the moonlight, the starlight, the veiling cloud, the cheering landscape where waves the grass and grain, where murmurs the gentle stream, where are the pleasant vale, undulating hill, and the rich plain, the village with its spire and manufactories and the distant farm house; these are the common things, intimately connected with the useful and the beautiful which all may enjoy, all full of interest, all connected with pleasant, tender, associations varying in different families and different individuals, according to the checkering of their lives. For every thing bears on it the impress of the character and hue of events, sorrows, and joys which have moved our souls and given interest to our lot.

I may be permitted to remark further, that would we have intelligence and good taste prevail with utility, we need education. It is the instrumentality of success. Let all become ignorant in the true sense of the term, and there will follow a combination of ignorance, worthlessness, folly, and dissipation; indeed any thing rather than thrift and comfort. All persons, old and young, have minds; natural powers; some more, some less. All have a thirst for knowledge. They are inclined, however, to put into operation such knowledge as will furnish them immediate gratification. Some kind of knowledge will be practiced, if not for good, for evil; if not from books, from other sources; if not from schools like the one established in this district during the year; certainly from that extemporaneous school which occurs the year round in the street, or in the bar-room, the bowling alley, the card-table, or some other place of which it is a shame to speak. Now one kind of instruction, such as the Commonwealth provides, and which the munificence of individuals in this vicinity aids to carry out, in our common schools, strengthens the powers of the mind and fits them for the business of human life. But the other kind, gained in the street and other places where virtue is derided, serves to weaken the intellectual powers, as well as the moral and physical. Soon as the buoyancy of youth has passed away there are no resources to which to apply for interest or gratification. The mind can be moved only through the baser passions. Hence many become old, young. Their intellect becomes as feeble as that of an infant. Whatever may be their physical strength, they have no moral or intellectual.

It is wise, therefore, and very wise, to give particular attention to the education of the young all over the land. Education properly conducted is intended and calculated to furnish light and power for the accomplishment of good; not to make the world worse than it is, but better; so as to develop its latent powers and put them into operation. Knowledge is power. To be efficient, it must be practical. Mere theory is not power. Theory and practice, or the knowledge which embrace each, is power. The world has grown old, and yet we have just begun to develop its resources, and to use to advantage principles which have lain dormant since its existence. Fields of action and interest are continually opening. The more we do, the more we may. This is a law, which in its general bearings is true; and still, labor will have the better pay. This may seem paradoxical, and yet it is true and philosophical. There may be occasionally an overaction, producing reaction. But this will correct itself and serve to bring about a true balancing of things. We have been afraid to pay much for education, and too often the cause has been permitted to go begging. There can be no better investment than funds secured for the education of the young. When we pay for schoolhouses, teachers, and apparatus, it is like putting money into the bank, or a premium paid for the insurance of property. If we are not safe now, it is because we have not been heretofore sufficiently liberal. Complaints of taxation, or withholding the proper amount of appropriation by the towns, for purposes of schooling, only proves that the voters have not been properly educated. We are therefore happy to know there are some who feel an interest in this subject, and their actions and professions are alike honorable to their minds and hearts.

There are some considerations to which it would be appropriate to refer today worthy of our attention and sympathy. Death has made inroads upon men in high stations within a few months. Though such events are associated with grief and cast over the mind and heart the gloom of sadness, we may not pass them by when some of them are of so recent occurrence. The community has been thereby affected. Not like those whose hearts have been penetrated by deeper sorrow, where the head of a family circle has been stricken down by the common destroyer, and his place left vacant, literally made an aching void, reminding of the reality in form, in countenance, in affection, in voice, and excellence that was, and is no more. True it may be no more of an affliction for the family of Webster, to part with the honored and beloved head, than for another family unknown beyond private life. Many of the latter class possess keen sensibilities, and strong ties of attachment, equal to those of the former. And in view of such an event they are as deeply afflicted. This day comes to all, thus situated, reviving associations long cherished. The day which has been heretofore the occasion of much happiness, now produces the keenest sorrow; not without mitigation. In view of past joys, and intimacies, and virtues, and hopes, there is even to them occasion of gratitude. It is that which bears the pleasant melancholy of a sunny autumn day when the wind suddenly striking the trees with its startling rustle, drops the golden leaves to turn to earth. They who thus die live in the hearts of their friends and are there cherished, how muchsoever to the bustling, unthinking world they may have passed into oblivion. But the memory of great and influential men, who have been active in the world for scores of years and have left their mark upon it, cannot be effaced. That world, that nation, that community which have known their worth, will be profoundly affected. It is natural for us to inquire, who shall fill their places? Who shall ever exert so powerful and happy influence? Not only do men of the world and political virtue make similar inquiries, as they have done successively in regard to the lamented Calhoun of the South, Clay of the West, and Webster of the North; but we are accustomed to hear the same from other professions, and in respect to men occupying smaller sphere- of the bar, of the pulpit, of the bench, and of the seat of science. Though we mourn their departure, that is human, yet we may be grateful for the lives they have been permitted to live; that what they have done, spoken, and written, are in our possession, and may be preserved so far as on examination and the test of time, there are virtue, truth, and value in them. The Providence of God furnished them with their powers of mind, fitted them for and placed them in their posts. It has removed, checked, or prospered them according to its wisdom. So that we see enough of them to show us that they were human, fallible, erring. And therefore we may not adore the men, whilst we may venerate the principles which they inculcated. In the Providence of God we are tough lessons, which we may receive with thankfulness. Instead of regretting the dispensation which removes them as instrumentalities, and thus honors them, it should be rather a matter of gratitude. We complain sometimes of the ingratitude of the majority towards one who is excellent and deserving. We may not be able to judge of the correctness of the decision of the majority in the time of its expression. If it be of God, it will stand, but if it be of men, it will come to naught. Remember the case of Joseph.The majority of his brethren were against him. They in their wisdom plotted his destruction. Their own wisdom was folly. Their plotting was the plan of God to save both him and them. So God meets individual and nations. He teaches them that they are only men, nothing more. It is not the popular will or effort that saves always, or destroys. But some hidden spring which God touches brings out unforeseen results. These results may be in the highest sense an occasion of gratitude to all concerned. Hence we rely not on any system which men of a party may devise for the perfection or permanency of our government, not on the measures of any political party ever in power or that ever will be. These parties, however proper they may be, or however honest, or whatever name they may assume to catch the popular ear, must be, as they ever have been, changing as to the policy of their action. We rely however, on the overruling power and goodness of God. The things which will save or ruin us do not depend upon so slight a circumstance as securing free trade or a protective system. There are currents of honesty and virtue, of truth and sincerity, of charity and good will; or of falsehood and deception, of vice and wrong, of oppression and ambition, which will bless or curse this nation. All other policies, though they be not the wisest, we may meet. Our government may continue to prosper, if we but have the principles of truth and righteousness as their foundation.

There is one view in which we may consider the deaths of these great men calculated to excite the gratitude of the good. In the providence of God they have so occurred, often, as to rebuke the animosity of party spirit. When Adams the elder and Jefferson died, on the same birthday of our national Independence, this was most happily the effect. Years after, when occurring one of the most exciting canvassings for president which resulted in the choice of Harrison, the Providence of God rebuked that spirit by the marked defeat of one candidate, and the death of the other in a few days after his inauguration. Other instances less marked have occurred which were peculiarly salutary in their effects on the community. And now, just in the height of the excitement in respect to the presidential election, he who was deemed the greatest statesman of the age was smitten down, as if God would rebuke this partly spirit. The lesson, which we are taught is a matter of gratitude inasmuch as we are directed to repose confidence in the great and good Sovereign who knows how and when to make use of the great instrumentalities of mind for accomplishing great purposes and of teaching lessons which take immediate effect. We are compelled to pause long enough in our career to notice it. These dispensations and lessons may not be such as to produce elation of mind; yet such they may be as to afford peace, confidence, and hope, and prompt to happy exertions, and result in more holy and charitable sentiments towards men as our brethren who are of the same blood and bound to the same tribunal.

In closing, we are deeply impressed with importance of religious instruction. Man is naturally a religious being. But his religion frequently degenerates into superstition, and seldom does he pursue the course of truth and consistency. We ought to remember, whilst so much is done for the physical powers and the intellect, the most important and elevated are the religious. Notwithstanding the commendation we give to physical and mental sciences, and the importance we attach to their culture, yet little real advantage, lasting benefit will accrue where the sentiments of the Bible are not inculcated and adopted. Look at intelligent, philosophical France; an enlightened nation, almost literally without the Bible. What is the consequence? Other things may contribute to make the nation what it is. But much of their instability and want of true principle spring from the destitution of that religious element which the use of the Scriptures, with due reverence to their Author and true regard for his government, begets. Whilst the French are the politest nation on the earth, the most polished and scientific perhaps, a nation of gentlemen and ladies, doing everything according to the strictest rules of etiquette; they are the lowest in the scale of truth and virtue. If he adheres strictly to this established code, there is not a sin named in the Decalogue which a Frenchman may not commit and yet be esteemed a gentleman, a man of honor. Now education of the intellect and polished manners, without virtue and religion would make this nation like France. And fatal indeed would the prevalence of such principles of virtue and ambition prove to the permanency of our free government. Hence the need of teaching the truth as the Bible contains it. We need a religion which teaches and enforces the Sabbath as a day to be devoted to God, not a mere holiday. We need a religion which shall have control of the heart and life; which shall put an active faith and a conscience into all our works. The measure of religion called for by many, if not the many, is rather just enough to put conscience to rest and turn faith to presumption. They are not willing to live day by day according to their teaching, their principles. Men like to have seasons when by penalties and penances, they may pay off their accumulated debts of sin, with permission from their conscience thus bought off, to indulge themselves again, or to do up their work of religion a little beforehand. To borrow an illustration from the playful, almost sacrilegious suggestion of young Franklin to his Puritan father, when he was laying down the pork for the season in the cellar; “Why would it not be well,” said he, “to crave a blessing on the whole barrel, and thus save time at the table?” Now though men may not be so light and playful about their religion, yet it is the inclination of the human heart to do up their religious matters in a day, and enjoy the world and sin the rest. This disposition tends to sap the foundation of public virtue. It will, if permitted to gain universal ascendency, serve eventually to overthrow our government. This is an evil with which we have to contend in every good and worthy improvement, not only with respect to the virtues of the heart, but such as are common to the intellect, which are requisite in the true progress of science and the arts and human governments, the true progress of the world.

The End

Sermon – Fire – 1840


This sermon was preached by Rev. William M. Rogers in 1840 after the loss of the ships Harold and Lexington.


sermon-fire-1840

A

SERMON

OCCASIONED BY THE LOSS

OF THE

HAROLD AND THE LEXINGTON,

DELIVERED AT THE ODEON,

January 26, 1840.

By WILLIAM M. ROGERS,
PASTOR OF THE FRANKLIN STREET CHURCH.

Rev. William M. Rogers,

Dear Sir,

We were so much interested in the Discourse, delivered by you yesterday, in regard to the destruction of the ‘Lexington,’ and the dreadful loss of life on that occasion, that we are anxious to have it published. We hope that our belief, that good may be done thereby, will be a sufficient reason for you to comply with this request.

With sincere regard and respect,

Your friends,

JOHN C. PROCTOR,
THOMAS A. DAVIS,
DANIEL NOYES,
HENRY EDWARDS,
JOHN R. ADAN,
WM. J. HUBBARD.

 

Boston, Jan. 27, 1840.

 

GENTLEMEN,

Agreeably to your request, I submit the manuscript to your disposal. With many thanks for your favorable judgment on my labors,

I remain, yours in the Gospel,

WM. M. ROGERS.

To Messrs. John C. Proctor,
Thomas A. Davis,
Daniel Noyes,
Henry Edwards,
John R. Adan,
Wm. J. Hubbard.

 

SERMON.
JEREMIAH XLIX. 23

HAMATH IS CONFOUNDED, AND ARPAD: FOR THEY HAVE HEARD EVIL TIDINGS: THEY ARE FAINT-HEARTED; THERE IS SORROW ON THE SEA; IT CANNOT BE QUIET.

God only is unchangeable. All else is mutable. Amidst the vicissitudes of things he sits upon the throne of his eternity, inaccessible to change and unapproached of death, the same yesterday, to-day and for ever. Pervading nature by his universal presence, and unmoved amidst all fluctuations, He controls every event, and turns every change to the accomplishment of his own sovereign purposes. There are no accidents in the government of God, no calamities which come unforeseen, unanticipated. But all is known, and predetermined, and for purposes good to man and worthy God. When calamity overtakes us, it is difficult to discern his hand in events which bring with them only unmingled sorrow. Faith is overborne, the heart is over-tasked, and the defences and refuges of piety are prostrated by the first rush of affliction. But when the soul has had time to regain her balance, it becomes her to know, that God is good in sorrow as in joy, in these fearful events which crush our hopes, as in his providential bounty and care, as in the mercies of the cross and the joys of an eternal heaven.

What then is the voice of God in this calamity? What the lesson of his mercy, taught us in blasted hopes, in the hearts broken, in homes desolate and empty? What is the teaching of God, when he makes the dead—our friends, brothers, sisters, children, fathers, to utter his truth? From the graves God hath opened for them embosomed in the waters, let the dead speak to-day, and let us hear their voice a the voice of the eternal God our Father.

There is sorrow on the sea; there are evil tidings on the land. Why is it?

I. There is sorrow on the sea.

Separation from home, parting from friends, coarsness of fare, daily toils and exposure to the diseases of other climates, with sudden death upon the deep; these are the life, not the sorrows of those who go down to the sea. Their sorrows are of a deeper cast. Who has not seen the good ship swing from her moorings, and lift her canvass to the breeze, while the pier-head was thronged with eager friends cheering her parting and waving their last kind wishes for a happy return. The flag of her country waved above her—the emblem of her power and protection, far as the wind may bear, the billows foam. But, ah, she goes where the might of a nation is powerless—among the wonders of God in the sea. How often does the sailor mark the gathering storm, and brace him to meet it with the resources of seamanship. He has seen the sea tumultuous, he has felt the blast of the tempest before, and he walks the deck, strong, in his own resources. The thunders utter their voice, the lightnings flash, deep calleth unto deep, and lift their waves like arms to embrace and engulf the ship. She bends to the tempest, and braces her yards to its blast, or flies before it with resistless speed. But how little can man do. Her canvass is rent to shreds, a rope parts, spar after spar goes by the board, the ship does not answer her helm and she is overborne by the storm, or lies upon the waters, unmanageable, the plaything of its tumultuous waves. How often are the horrors of fire or the leak accompaniments and accessories of the storm, until the good ship goes down with all her rich freight, and the waters gather over her, as if she had never been. Truly God walks the sea in fearful majesty. It may be the sturdy men that walked her deck betake them to their boats, with hope of rescue and of home yet warm about their hearts. But how often is it a living death. The night brings no rest, the sun no cheering. They look for land, and see it not; they discern a sail, and it turns to cloud. An hungered, athirst, starved to the very bone, the kindliness of nature is overpowered, and they glare upon one another with hungry and cannibal eyes. They live in their coffins and their graves are beneath them.

There is sorrow on the sea. Even within the protection of our bays and harbors, where clustering vessels had sought a refuge from the storm, God hath broken the ships of Tarshish with an East wind, and while the shores were blackened with the many who sought their rescue, ready to peril life for life, within sight of their danger, within hearing of their agony, the storm has overmastered them and given back their mutilated corpses to the land again.

There is sorrow on the sea. We have spoken of familiar and recorded sorrow. But who can measure the griefs unwritten save in the book of God; who can catch and utter again the voice of human agonies amid the waste of waters unheard but by the ever present One? Who can describe the bitterness of their death, who went down to the grave struggling hopelessly, with no eye but His upon them? There are none of you familiar with the seas, who have not often passed in mid ocean a spar, a timber, rounded with the ceaseless wash and wear of waters, barnacled and tasseled with weeds, once doubtless a portion of some noble ship. But what was she, and whence? Where are the men that peopled her? She went forth and came not again. Her history is brief. She left her port and was never heard of more. The merchant, who has freighted her deep with the abundance of his warehouse, pores over the registers of arrivals and departures—but her name and her fate are hidden. The mother, whose boy has wandered from his home to the deep, looks for his coming—but he does not come; and often she asks, are there tidings—but tidings there are none. There is unknown sorrow on the sea.

But these are the common and expected casualties of the sea. They are the history of every day and the burden of every print. We meet them without surprise and leave them without abiding impression. Indeed it has come to be accounted a natural death for the seaman to perish by the waters; and when he dies, he dies often unknown, unvalued, with but a passing sensation upon the public mind. Sometimes, indeed, one we have known, and loved, leaving a family circle bound up in his life, finds his grave in the sea, and even then the teachings of that sorrow are too much limited to the firesides which shall know him no more for ever. In such casual and insulated calamities, the public mind is moved too much as the sea, when it open to embosom the sinking ship. There is a wave, a ripple, and it flows on as before. It is moved to sympathy, but passes on uninstructed. The voice of God is hushed amid the thronging cares of life. It is under such circumstances, that our God has often broken the common order of his providences by signal and general calamities. There always has been sorrow on the sea, but now there are evil tidings on the land. It comes to every church, to every congregation, to the families and firesides of our city, and our Commonwealth. It is not the nameless and homeless sailor who has fallen; it is the known, the loved, the honored, the pride and joy of many hearts. Truly God hath spoken with fearful distinctness, and to us all.

II. There are evil tidings on the land.

The facilities of communication between distant points introduced by steam, have been accompanied with a corresponding increase in travel itself. They who seldom travelled before, except under the pressure of circumstances, now mingle in the throng crowding our great routes. The men of business are there oftener than ever, and with them the man of science, the minister of the gospel on some errand of mercy, the father, the mother with helpless infancy, drawn by the ease of transfer from a quiet home to meet and bless once more the absent and the loved. A calamity here, touches society on the nerve. The dismal history of the Home, the Pulaski, the Lexington, shows a long, sad list of the honored and loved, filling every position in human society, and touching each a thousand hearts in his fall; and so will it be in the future. The community may expect, that whenever calamities occur upon our great routes, it will not be the nameless alone who will perish, but with them, the best life society can furnish.

Who did not feel this when the evil tidings of the Lexington came upon us, and the fearful list of dead became distinct and legible? Who but shrunk from the perusal; who but denied to himself the first overwhelming tidings, and disbelieved in spite of evidence, for hope overmastered fear. And when confirmation strong blasted all hopes, with what deep horror did men look upon one another. It was felt to be and it is a public calamity. Its pressure falls heavily on many firesides, but its shadow is over all.

There are evil tidings for us, for who were there? The men of business, whose foresight and energy pushed enterprise to its utmost; they who were the authors and centres of plans branching and extending until they girdled the globe; they whose activity gave bread to hundreds, they were there. And with them the minister of the gospel, one who had found a home in a land strange to his infancy, and whose integrity, learning and worth had won a place for him in many hearts, and a position honorable amongst men, he was there. And with them, one who had crossed many seas and looked upon death right often, and whose protracted absence had given rise to sad forebodings of his fate, when the glad news of his safe arrival filled many hearts with joy, he was there, and he came to crown the hopes of years, and to meet her who was to be his bride. 1 He hastened to his bridal, but it was with death; and she who was to be a wife was more than a widow. And they too were there who reverently took up their dead, that they might bear it to the family tomb, to rise together in the last day, and together God buried them. And helpless infancy enfolded in a mother’s arms, now first no protection, and veiled and enshrouded, the last sad office of a mother’s love, it was there. The eager crowds that thronged that boat were fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, friends, and with life vigorous at their hearts, and hope bright before them, they rushed, they knew it not, to their own graves. But could the private history of the individuals on board that boat be known, could we follow the tidings of death to each desolate home, and broken heart, there would be more of anguish in the circles of friends who live to suffer, than in the horrors of that night.

But among them never can we forget one, a brother of this church, with whom we have taken sweet counsel, and walked to the house of God in company, with whom we have broken the bread, and lifted the cup, the emblems of a Saviour’s sacrifice, with whom our prayers have gone up to God, and our labors been joined on earth;—possessed of a sweetness of temper, touched lightly by the cares and vexations of life, with a religious character ripening and maturing with great promise; loved as a son and as a brother, and loved in relations more tender than either, life was worth to him all it could be worth to any man. He entered that boat, committing himself, and the record yet remains to us, to his covenant keeping God, and his God in covenant hath taken him to join the sister and the brother, “not lost, but gone before.” And there with his God in covenant let us leave him, assured that redeeming love is a portion richer for the soul than any earthly good. 2

III. There is sorrow on the sea, and evil tidings on the land, and why is it?

In a government administered by infinite wisdom and goodness, nothing can transpire except in consistency with mercy. Sorrows come not forth of the dust; they spring not out of the ground. They have their purpose, and it is one worth the gaining, even at the price of life, and of such life. If we shrink sensitively, and who does not, from the horrors of that night, let us remember that the purpose of their death in the government of God, is as glorious as they were dreadful. In the heavens, one world calls to another to praise God, and in all their glorious circles, day to night, and night to day, proclaim him Creator. That is the voice of his majesty challenging the reverence of man. But here the dead speak to us, and from the enfolding depths where God hath them sure against the resurrection, I seem to hear them admonish us. This is the voice of his mercy—and it tells us to be ready to die at any time and in any way.

It is most solemn truth, that God has pledged himself to no man, how or when he will bring him to his grave. He has cast the shadows of futurity about it and bidden us be always ready. He will not give us this knowledge, to calculate how long we may live in sin, and when it is indispensable to become Christians. He will not sanction our being aliens while we may, and children when we must; but everywhere, in every open grave, in the common course of his providence, in unusual and marked calamities, in the warning of his word and the voice of all experience, he bids us be ready for any death at any time, for there is no safety to the Christless. This is the voice of God’s mercy to the living, coming up from those waters lit up by the fires of death. There never was a calamity so fatal, which to the eye of man seemed so needless, and so improbable; never one where the means of relief from within themselves or rescue from without so promising; and yet every hope was blasted, every expedient fruitless, and death closed the harrowing scene. It is often the case, that God leaves man to the sympathies of home, and the soothing kindnesses of affection; but often as here, he visits him in the midst of his strength, with all the appurtenances of safety about him, yes, in the very midst of his triumphs over nature, where he has imprisoned the fire, and made the air and the water, and the rugged iron toil for him like bondmen, in the very supremacy of his dominion over the elements, the hand of God is upon him and he dies. No miracle attests the present God. The fire and the waters and the air retain their nature, and, acting each in conformity with unvarying laws, they accomplish the purposes of God, and man finds his wisdom foolishness, and his strength helplessness. There is no safety to life in human devices.

And when the outcry rang through that ill-fated boat, that death threatened them in a form most appalling to humanity, how soon were the distinctions of society annulled. Poverty stood side by side with wealth, knowledge with ignorance, strength with feebleness, all were upon a common level. Of what avail was wealth? The coined silver and gold were not worth their bulk in water to quench the burning boat, but were emptied out and trodden under foot as worthless, with the life in peril. Here let the eager and the greedy for gain measure the value of their gettings. Here let them learn that gold will not save the life, though it may ruin the soul. Here let the proud take the guage and dimensions of their distinctions; they never have barred the pathway of death. Here let the vigorous, full of life, and trusting to see many years, acknowledge a mightier strength, before which theirs is but imbecility.

Oh, that was a scene of many and crowding thoughts. Home, and the hearts bound up with them in the issues of life, wives, husbands, parents, children, brothers, sisters, all were present to their thoughts. All that made life worth the having, concentred in the hour; but all that made life desirable could not make the cup to pass from them, which wrung the life from out their hearts.

That was a place of prayers. If men ever pray in earnest, it is at sea, when the help of man utterly fails, and God only can rescue. Doubtless men prayed who never prayed before. God grant their prayers were heard. And there were Christians there to test their piety, and cast themselves upon God, “for he who trusts in Jesus is safe, even amid the dangers of the sea.” But even prayer coming up amid voices of agony, and dying men, was heard unanswered, and they died. Does not God teach us to rely for life neither on human skill or strength, upon wealth or the ties that bind to life, nor even upon the piety of the Christian, for God hath richer blessings for him than life, stored up in heaven. There is assurance of existence no where. God warns us then to be ever ready to die in any way, for he has pledged himself to no man how or when he will bring him to his grave.

There is a duty which yet remains to me in closing this discourse. I address myself to those who never have professed to be Christians, and ask them,

Are you ready to die? Had your soul been in their souls’ stead, what would be now your condition? It is by the mercy of God that you are spared, and spared to the service of this day, to hear the solemn truth of this discourse, that God has not pledged himself to you, how or when he will bring you to the grave. Within the year, three members of the congregation and one of the church have found a sudden death on the sea, while a father of a member of the church has shared the same fate. Of the members of the congregation one was a child of the church, baptized and nurtured for God; the other in the vigor of manhood, generous, energetic, kind and affectionate, found his death by the burning of the Harold in mid ocean. The third in the vigor and promise of life was lost in the Lexington. These events which have filled the house with mourners, and touch every heart, are enforced and deepened by the sorrows of many bereaved by the recent calamity, teaching the same lesson in God’s providence. Be ready to die in any way, at any time. Are you ready? Men have died to teach you the lesson. Many hearts have been wrung with anguish to impress it. And while the weeds of wo are before your eyes, let the voice of the dead come to you as the voice of God, “Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.” Be in earnest in the care of your soul. Put off from you this listlessness and indifference which is stamping death upon your immortality, and robbing you of heaven. Strip yourselves of that foolish and wicked pride which fears the world more than God, and shrinks from personal and earnest thought and action in religion. You have chosen a pastor as your guide to Heaven. Make him so frankly, openly, disclosing your hopes, your fears, your doubts and difficulties, never shrinking from a manly avowal of your estate, or from the use of opportunities to know yourself and God. And above all, go to your God, for you have a soul to be saved, and he alone can save it through Christ. So shall your end be peace, and the very grave, which hath enlarged herself to enclose the coming, shall yield to you the fruits of eternal life.

Brethren of the church: A brother has gone, for God has taken him. He mingles his voice in these services no more. He will break bread with us never again on earth. It would seem more natural for the eye to rest upon him in the vigor and bloom of health, worshipping among us, than to speak of his death. But such is the inscrutable purpose of God. We yet remain, but how long? He who hath taken him alone knoweth. And are we ready? Is our work done? Could we leave the earth in peace, feeling that nothing remained for us to do? Oh, it is not so. How much is yet undone! How brief a space to finish it! As we think of the dead, let us cherish no fears for him. We may exultingly take hold upon the promise of Christ, “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” There is enough of sureness and blessedness in the promise to cheer and sustain us in this bereavement. But let us think of the living, of our duties to our own souls, to those who are without hope in the world, and to God himself. Put away the fatal sloth and inaction, which preys upon the piety of a church, like a canker. Awake to righteousness and sin not. Let us humble ourselves before God for our negligence and remissness in his work, our coldness and unbelief, and implore the aids of his Spirit in humble dependence. Let us do these things, for death cometh and afterwards the judgment.

To the bereaved of this church and congregation, we extend our sympathies in their sorrows, and implore in our prayers the blessings of the Almighty Father upon them. But look to richer consolations than are found in any human hearts. Remember that your sorrows, keen as they may be, proceed from one who has tasted death, and known its bitterness, deepened a thousand fold by the accumulated sins of a world. He who hung upon the cross, and tasted death for every man, He it is who hath permitted these bereavements to come upon you, and for the self same end for which he died. They are means to the renewal of the heart or the sanctification of the soul. They are intended to prepare for you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Let not affliction fail of its end. Let it not be needful, that sorrow come again. Go then to the Saviour, who has smitten in tenderness, not in wrath, and learn to read this life in the light of heaven—and to hear the voice of God from the graves of your dead, bidding you be holy, trust in Christ, and be happy forever.

 


Endnotes

1. Capt. Carver, of Plymouth. After a passage so long as to excite serious apprehensions for his safety, he reached his port, and, by his request, every preparation had been made to consummate his marriage immediately on his arrival home. He entered the Lexington in that expectation, and was lost.

2. ‘Among the passengers who perished, was Mr. James G. Brown, of Boston, a young gentleman of devoted religious character, and greatly endeared to all who knew him. On the morning of the fatal 13th, he took, leave of his friends in Newark, where he had recently formed a most tender connection. Among his baggage, since found on the beach, and restored to his friends, is his pocket Bible, and a little volume called “Daily Food,” consisting of texts of Scripture for every month and day in the year. The texts for January 13th, (the fatal day) were, with singular appropriateness, these—“He that endureth to the end shall be saved.” “Watch, therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.” These passages were marked by his own hand by a turned down leaf, and from his known habits had doubtless been the theme of his meditation just before the melancholy catastrophe. The portion of Scripture marked as recently read is the 23d psalm, embracing the triumphant exclamation of David, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”’ Newark, N. J. Advertiser.

* Originally posted: December 24, 2016.

Sermon – Moral View of Rail Roads – 1851

sermon-moral-view-of-rail-roads-1851Samuel Clark Aiken (1791-1879) was born in Windham, Vermont. He became the first permanent pastor of Cleveland, Ohio’s well-known Old Stone Church (also known as First Presbyterian Church) in 1835; and pastored there until his retirement in 1861. Rev. Aiken was also an outstanding civic leader in Cleveland.

He preached several notable sermons including Theatrical Exhibitions (1836) and The Laws of Ohio in Respect to the Colored People, Shown to be Unequal, Unjust and Unconstitutional (1845).

Among the audience members for Aiken’s Moral View of Rail Roads discourse were the Ohio Governor, Speakers of the House and Senate, the presidents of two railroad companies, the mayors of Columbus and Cleveland, and others. In his discourse, Rev. Aiken cultivates a Christian worldview in his audience by presenting both a Biblical and historical context for transportation.


Moral View of Rail Roads

A Discourse, Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 23, 1851
On the Occasion of the Opening Of the Cleveland and Columbus Rail Road 1

By Rev. S. C. Aiken, D.D., Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church.

Naham 2:4
The chariots shall rage in the streets: they shall justle one against another in the broad ways: they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings.

On reading this verse, one might naturally suppose that the prophet lived in the days of rail roads and Locomotives: But it was not so. His chariots of lightning were chariots of War armed and sent forth by the King of Babylon, to effect the conquest and ruin of the city of Nineveh. From the passage however, I shall take occasion to speak, not of war, which has proved such a curse to the world, and yet, has often been overruled for good but of the development and progress of a new power, which, we trust, is destined to supersede war and to introduce into our world, a new order of things, which seems to betoken the rapid fulfillment of prophecy: “Behold, I create new Heavens and a new earth: and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind: “In the wilderness shall waters break out and streams in the desert  and a highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called, The Way of Holiness.”

This prophecy, reminds me of an occasion similar to the one, that has called so many strangers to our city: when, on the opening of the Erie Canal, it was my privilege, on the Lord’s-Day, to address De Witt Clinton, and the Commissioners, in grateful recognition of the beneficent Providence, which had carried them on to the completion of a work, deemed chimerical by some and impolitic by others: but which has proved a highway for commerce, and made many a wilderness and solitary place to blossom as the rose.

In a moral and religious point of view, as well as social and commercial, to me, there is something interesting, solemn, and grand in the opening of a great thoroughfare. There is sublimity about itindicating not only march of mind and a higher type of society, but the evolution of divine purposes, infinite, eternal connecting social revolutions with the progress of Christianity and the coming reign of Christ.

To overlook such an event to view it only in its earthly relations, would be to overlook a movement of Providence, bearing directly upon the great interests of morality, and religion the weal or woe of our country, and of unborn millions. It is the duty of Christians, and especially of Christian ministers, to watch the signs of the times to see God, and lead the people to see Him, in all the affairs of the world, whether commercial, political or religious, in the varied aspects, in which He is presented to our view in His word.

The history of roads is one of the best commentaries upon the intellectual and social state of society. Of course, it will not become the time and place, to go into it any further than is needful as preliminary to my subject.

A road is a symbol of civilization the want of it, a symbol of barbarism. By its condition we may ascertain, with considerable accuracy, the degree of the one or of the other. “Let us travel,” says the Abbe Raynal, “over all the countries of the earth, and wherever we shall find no facilities of traveling from city to town, and from a village to a hamlet, we may pronounce the people to be barbarous.” The government is weak the inhabitants poor and ignorant. The road, then, is a physical index of the condition and character of any age or nation. Viewed from this standpoint, its history may correct one of our errors, and lead us to see, that we are not quite so far in advance of antiquity, as we are apt to imagine.

If we look back to the earliest period of the world, of which we have any record, we find that roads were the dividing line between civilization and barbarism. The first country, of which we have any definite knowledge, distinguished for the arts and sciences, was Egypt. Could we read its lost history, we should see that under the reign of its Pharaohs, it rose to a pitch of civilization and grandeur of which, probably, we have no conception. This fact is indicated by its pyramids and magnificent remains, which clearly show its former glory. If Thebes had its hundred gates, it is likely, that it had also its paved and spacious avenues leading from it into every part of the kingdom, on which the chariots of its kings and nobles rolled in splendor.

Nor was the Jewish commonwealth without its roads, constructed in the most durable manner, under the reign of Solomon. Those leading to and from the cities of refuge, have probably never been excelled. But in the uncivilized surrounding nations, we hear nothing of roads.

Mark also the Roman empire at the period of its highest prosperity and grandeur. The famous “Appian Way,” celebrated by Horace, built three hundred years before Christ, remains of which are still visible after the lapse of more than twenty centuries, is familiar to every reader of history. Two-thirds of it, from Capua to Brundusium, were built by Julius Caesar and formed one of the most splendid memorials of that Emperor’s reign. Its entire length was nearly four hundred miles graded so far as practicable to a level paved with hewn stone in the form of hexagonal blocks, laid in durable cement with a surface spacious and smooth. Besides this, there were other roads, constructed by different emperors, such as the Salernian, Flaminian, Ostian, and Triumphal, leading from the capital one of which extended four thousand miles, from Antioch on the north, to Scotland on the south at one place tunneling a mountain of rock, 2 at another, stretching over ravines and rivers by bridges and aqueducts, interrupted only by the English channel and the Hellespont.

Nor were the Romans so greatly behind us as to speed. History records the fact, that “one Cesarius went post from Antioch to Constantinople – six hundred and sixty-five miles – in less than six days. The modern traveler in his rail-car smiles at the statement; but he forgets, that the Roman horse was neither fire nor steam, and that he is indebted for his speed to the discovery of a new and wonderful power of which the ancients knew nothing.

Now turn and consider the old Saxons. Look at the Feudal age of comparative barbarism, when each community or county had its Baron and castle, built upon inaccessible rocks; – when the people dwelt in walled cities, with sentinels upon the towers; – when there were no roads – no wheeled vehicles, except a few, and those of the most cumbersome kind; – when the mode of travel was on foot or horseback, through fields and streams and forests. Then it was, that the arts, sciences, and religion were at a dead stand. There were no ducts for commerce – no life or motion. Day and night, the people lived in fear of robbers, and their only hope of safety lay in having no intercourse with one another, nor with distant neighborhoods and provinces. So it has always been. So it is now. Point me to a country where there are no roads, and I will point you to one where all things are stagnant – where there is no commerce except on a limited scale – no religion, except a dead formality – no learning, except the scholastic and unprofitable. A road is a sign of motion and progress – a sign the people are living and not dead. If there is intercourse, social or commercial, there is activity; “advancement is going on – new ideas and hopes are rising. All creative action, whether in government, industry, thought, or religion, creates roads,” and roads create action.

To an inquisitive mind, it is extremely interesting and instructive to mark the progress of mechanical invention. To one accustomed to trace effects to their causes, it is more than interesting. He sees something besides human agency at work in the provision of materials – in the adaptation of means to ends – in the wisdom, order, and regularity of general laws, which the practical mechanic has learnt to accommodate to his own purposes. But he is not the originator of those laws, nor of the materials on which he operates. He has discovered that certain agents will serve particular ends. Of these agents he skillfully avails himself, and the result he aimed at is produced.

The elements of water-power have been in existence since the world was made; and yet, there doubtless was a time when there was no waterwheel applied to a dashing current, to propel machinery. Why did not the human mind grasp at once the simple law, and dispense with animal power to grind meal for daily bread? On the principles of philosophy, this question is not so easily answered. To say that mind is slow in its development, does not solve the difficulty. From the earliest ages, it has accomplished wonders in the arts. It has built cities and pyramids – aqueducts and canals – calculated eclipses and established great principles in science.

The truth is, there is a providence in mechanical invention as well as in all the affairs of men. And when God has purposes to accomplish by this invention, he arouses some active spirit to search for the laws already in existence, and to arrange the materials with reference to the end.

In past ages, for all practical purposes, the world has done well enough with the mechanical powers it possessed. The water-wheel has moved the machinery attached to it. The stagecoach has trundled its passengers along, contented and happy with the slow pace, though not always convenient or comfortable, because they had no better mode of conveyance. The merchant has cheerfully committed his goods to the sail boat, because he knew of no more powerful agent than the winds. But the human mind has received a new impulse. It is waked up to unwonted energy. It is filled with the great idea of progress. It is leaving the things that are behind, and pressing onward.

Nothing has contributed more to wake up the mind from its sleep of ages – to draw out its powers and to set it on the track of discovery, than the invention of the steam engine. This event occurred about eighty years since, and the name of the inventor is inscribed on the tablet of immortality. It was no freak of chance – no random thought of the human intellect, unaided by that Infinite Intelligence, at whose disposal is all matter and mind; and who, in his own time and way, makes them subserve his own purposes. Was Bezaleel raised up by God and filled with wisdom “to devise cunning work – to work in gold and silver and brass” – to aid Moses in building the tabernacle? Was Hiram afterward endowed with great mechanical skill in the erection of Solomon’s temple? So was Watt. God raised him up to invent the steam-engine; and, when “he gave it to mankind in the form in which it is now employed for countless uses, it was as if God had sent into the world a legion of strong angels to toil for man in a thousand forms of drudgery, and to accomplish for man a thousand achievements which human hands could never have accomplished, even with the aid of such powers of nature as were previously known and mastered. The earth with the steam engine in it, and with all the capabilities which belong to that mighty instrument for aiding the industry and multiplying the comforts of mankind, is a new earth; – far better fitted in its physical arrangements for the universal establishment of the kingdom of
Christ, or in other words, for the universal prevalence of knowledge, liberty, righteousness, peace, and salvation.”

The application of steam, as a mechanical power, to locomotion on land and water, forms a new era in invention, and in the history of the world. Twenty years ago, the first successful experiment with the locomotive, was made between Liverpool and Manchester. Now, we can hardly compute the number of railways. Forty-three years ago the Hudson was first successfully navigated by a steamer. In the summer of 1838 the Atlantic ocean was crossed for the first time by vessels exclusively propelled by steam power. Now look at the progress. The steamer ploughs our navigable rivers – our great lakes – our coasts; – and asserts its supremacy over all other craft, from the Pacific to the Atlantic, and from the Atlantic to the Indian ocean. The changes in the moral and physical condition of our world, by means of this wonderful agency, are what no one can witness, without mingled emotions of admiration and wonder. That the hand of the Almighty is in it; that he has some good and grand design to accomplish through its instrumentality, must be evident to all who believe Him to be the moral Governor of the world. Were a new planet to start into existence, I should as soon think it the result of a fortuitous conglomeration of atoms, as to disconnect the present revolutions by steam, from the wisdom and power of God.

Some good people, I am aware, look with a suspicious eye upon the iron-horse. They fancy there is a gloomy destiny in it – a power to subvert old and established customs; – to change the laws and ordinances of God and man; – to introduce moral and political anarchy, ignorance and impiety, and to make our degenerate race more degenerate still.

Now, I am not troubled with such specters. I look for evils to be multiplied with the increase of travel. But order will reign – law will reign – religion will reign, because there will be an increase also of counteracting agents. If the effect should be the increase of wealth only, we might well pre-predict, fearful consequences. To look upon the railroad simply as an auxiliary to commerce – as a great mint for coining money; is to take but a superficial and contracted view of it. If we would contemplate it in all its bearings, we must consider it as a new and vast power, intended by Providence to act upon religion and education – upon the civilization and character of a nation in all the complicated interests of its social organism. This is a great subject, and while I have neither time nor ability to do it justice, I can see in it matter that may well employ, and will yet employ the best heads and hearts which God has bestowed on mortals. Without anticipating evils there are certain benefits to follow, which will prove more than an antidote. To name a few.

The increase of commerce and wealth is a consideration which I leave to the political economist. In no country should they be overlooked, much less in our own. Wealth is power, and when properly used, is a source of unspeakable good.

As to commerce, there are two aspects – aside from its bearing on wealth – in which I love to contemplate its connection with the railroad.

One is, as a preventive of war. This remark applies more to commerce as now conducted by steam on the ocean. It is bringing the nations together, and making them feel the sympathetic throbbings of one family heart – of one great brotherhood. Would the idea of a World’s Fair have been conceived, had it not been for steam navigation? It was a noble thought! Let the people of every tongue, and kindred, and nation from under heaven assemble. Let them gather under the same magnificent crystal palace, and through its transparent dome, raise their eyes to the same God, and feel that he has made them all of one blood, and united them, by one common tie of interest and affection, to the same father and to one another; and we may expect to hear that a motion has been made and carried by acclamation, to “beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning hooks.”

The other view of steam-commerce is, its tendency to unite more closely the states – bringing them into more intimate relations, and subjecting them to the influence of mutual intercourse.

Owing to emigration, we are becoming a heterogeneous people – unlike in habits, language and religion, and scattered over a vast territory, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. How States, formed out of such a population, thus widely dispersed, can be held together and consolidated, is a question vitally interesting and important. One thing is certain; it cannot be done by law, nor by military power alone. Sectional interests and jealousies will spring up against which the Constitution and brute force will form no barrier. Under circumstances so unprecedented in the history of nations, our only hope, it seems to me, lies in the general diffusion of religion and education, and in the kind and frequent intercourse which the railway is calculated to promote, – bringing distant portions of the country into the relation of neighborhoods, and thus removing sectional jealousies and animosities, and inspiring mutual confidence and affection.

It is for this reason, as well as others, I rejoice in the construction of a railroad, connecting, us I may say, with the Southern States. The influence, according to all the laws of our social being, cannot fail to be peaceful and happy. On a little better acquaintance, our brethren of the South will feel more kindly towards us, and we towards them; and, possibly, some mistakes and misapprehensions, on both sides, will be corrected and removed By means of recent intercourse with foreigners, the Chinese begin to think it doubtful whether the earth is a plane, and they in the center of it, and all upon the outside barbarians. By a law of our nature, minds in contact assimilate, and, for this reason, we hope to see good result from the intermingling of the North with the South; and, could a railroad. be extended to the Pacific, it would do more to promote union in the States – to circulate kind feelings – to establish our institutions in California, Oregon, Utah, and New Mexico, and to consolidate our glorious confederacy, than all the legislation of Congress from now until doomsday. A new and vast trade would at once spring up between the parent States and those more recently formed, also with the numerous islands of the Pacific, and with the populous regions of eastern Asia. In its tendency all legitimate commerce is peaceful and happy, because its benefits are mutual and reciprocal. Every new railway, therefore, constructed in our country, is another link in a chain of iron, binding the States together.

Another benefit. In one respect, the railroad. is a leveler, but it levels up, not down. Its tendency is to place the poor on a level with the rich, not by abolishing the distinction of property – it is no socialist – not by depressing the rich, but by elevating all to the enjoyment of equal advantages. It is like the Press. Before the art of printing, the poor had no books. Now, the possession of books is no very distinctive mark of wealth. Manufactories are leveling in the same way, by bringing to the firesides and wardrobes of the poor, articles of comfort and luxury, which once were attainable only by the rich. So with the railway The poor can travel with as much ease, rapidity and cheapness as the rich. They are not doomed, as formerly, to spend life within the limits of a parish or a city; but, can take their seat beside the millionaire, breathe the pure air of the country, recreate and recruit health and spirits in its valleys and on its mountain tops. But there are other advantages still greater.

One is the general diffusion of education. “Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.” The motion of the body quickens the mind. The rapid passing of objects – the active interchange of commodities in commercial intercourse, is attended with the interchange of ideas. Then, possibly, such active intercourse maybe unfavorable to education. In a passion for travel, there is danger of cultivating the senses more than the intellect. Should knowledge degenerate into mere sight-seeing and become superficial, the effect will be deplorable. But as an offset to this evil, which we hardly anticipate, we see everywhere the multiplication of schools and a disposition in the people, and especially in our rulers, to patronize and encourage education. Happily for the world, rulers are beginning to see, that they are invested with power not
for themselves, but for the people; that the interest of one is the interest of both; and, that in shaping their policy so as to advance general knowledge, industry, equal rights and privileges; they are laying a broad foundation in the intelligence and affection of the masses for permanent peace and prosperity.

In political science, this is a great advance from the old gothic notion that God made the people for the king and the king for himself. This branch of my subject I cannot close better, than in the words of an eloquent writer. Speaking of governments, he says: – “Having it for their problem to make every man as valuable as possible to himself and to his country, and becoming more and more inspired, as we may hope, by an aim so lofty, every means will be used to diffuse education, to fortify morals and favor the holy power of religion. This being done, there is no longer any danger from travel. On the contrary, the masses of society, will, by this means, be set forward continually in character and intelligence. As they run, knowledge will be increased. The roads will themselves be schools, for here they will see the great world moving, and feel themselves to be a part of it. Their narrow, local prejudices will be worn off; their superstitions forgotten. Every people will begin to understand and appreciate every other, and a common light be kindled in all bosoms.”

The effects to result from the great facilities for travel, in regard to the general interests of religion is another subject on which a large portion of community feel a deep interest. And well we may. Whatever tends to loosen the bonds that bind society together – to uproot law and order – to introduce anarchy and misrule, guilt and wretchedness.

There is one fact, however, which encourages us to hope that the influence of railways will be favorable to religion. As I have already said, they mark a new era in the world. They are destined to erect a great revolution in all the departments of society. Now, if we look back on the past half century, we see nothing but a succession of revolutions in government – in the arts and sciences – in the conditions of political and social life; and yet, where is there one that has not immediately or remotely favored the extension of Christianity – given prosperity and power to evangelical truth, and caused the heart of Christian philanthropy to beat more intensely for the happiness of universal being? On that one, I cannot place my eye. It is not in memory. It is not on record. Wrongs deep and dreadful there have been, and are still; but every attempt to perpetuate them – as is obvious to the nice observer – is working out, slowly it may be, but surely, their removal.

When railroads were first projected, it was predicted, and not without some reason, that they would demolish the Christian Sabbath. But what has been the result? So far as ascertained, I confess I see no occasion for alarm. True, this sacred season of rest, given to man by his Creator, and which his physical nature imperiously demands – being able, as has often been demonstrated, to do more labor with it than without it – is shamefully desecrated by steamers, railcars and other modes of conveyance. But, so far as railroads are concerned, experience both in this country and in England is gradually deciding favor of remembering the Sabbath day to keep it holy. If correctly informed,
several lines are already discontinued and others will be. Wherever the voice of community favors it, Directors are not backward to let their men and enginery remain quiet on this day; for it is found that nothing is gained and much lost by running. All the business can be done in six days of the week; while, not only one-seventh part of the expense is saved, but the hands employed are refreshed and invigorated by rest, and better prepared with safety and fidelity to discharge their duty. Thus the evil is working out its own remedy. The truth is, the law of the Sabbath is written, not only in the Bible, but upon the constitution of man; and such are the arrangements of Providence that it cannot be violated without incurring loss. The penalty will follow, and if religion does not enforce obedience, self-interest will. All that is necessary is, to direct the attention
of considerate men to the subject, and leave it with conscience and common sense to decide. This done, I have no fears of the result.

Another thing. When a railway is managed as it should be, and as I confidently believe ours will be, it is found to be an important auxiliary to the cause of temperance. In a concern involving so great an amount of life and property, it is worse than folly to employ men who are not strictly temperate. The public expect and have a right to demand, for the sake of safety if nothing else, the most scrupulous adherence on the part of directors to the principles of temperance; in the appointment of their agents. This will inspire confidence in the traveling community, and secure patronage; and if no higher motive actuates, its influence will be good, at least upon a large class of persons necessarily connected with such an establishment.

But it is in the power of directors – and that power can be easily exercised, especially at the first start of a railroad. – to extend the healthful influence of temperance, along the whole line; – operating benignly upon the population at large, through which it passes. They can and ought to control the eating-houses and depots maintained for its accommodation; and if this be so, the prohibited use of intoxicating liquor in them, by its example, will do good to the whole state. If this wise and practicable measure be adopted, as it has been on some other roads, and with entire success, it can readily be seen how powerfully it will aid the cause of temperance. For years past, one prolific source of intemperance, has been the taverns and grog-shops upon our great thoroughfares. Persons who drank but little at home, under the excitement or fatigue of traveling, have thought it pleasant if not necessary to indulge in the intoxicating cup, especially where none but strangers could be witnesses to their delinquency. As these sources will in a great degree cease to corrupt, if others are not opened on the railroad., incalculable good will result to the public. May we not hope that the noble stand will be taken and maintained, and that our railway, so big with promise to other interests, will apply its mighty fires and forces to dry up the poisonous fountains of intemperance? It will be an achievement worthy of the age. It will reflect honor upon our State. Its example will tell upon other railroads and upon the nation. In a few years,
it will save money enough to repay the building of the road. It will scatter unnumbered blessings of contentment, peace, prosperity, and religion over our great commonwealth!

Let me, in conclusion, recall your minds to the thought already suggested; that the hand of the Almighty is concerned in the vast system of railroads. In their construction, the object of man may be commerce, convenience, pleasure, profit, or national glory. But “my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” What God intends to accomplish, we are incompetent fully to determine; but we may rest assured, that he has some great and glorious object in view, and will make man’s agency in this earthly enterprise instrumental in bringing it about.

Do you think it derogatory to Him who creates worlds and guides them in their orbits, to have thing to do with railroads? Or, do you adopt the Epicurean theory, revived by the author of “Vestiges of Creation” – a work replete with palpable and enormous blunders – a work based on the principle, that God, after creating the world, left it to take care of itself, and retired into the bosom or eternity? Revelation forbids the thought. Reason forbids it. The presence and action of universal laws forbid it. Look at the wisdom, order and harmony of these laws. Look at their unity, and in that unity, see the agency of one Infinite Mind upholding and governing all. Or do you take another view of the subject less revolting to the Christian mind? Is God in nature, but not in its movements and evolutions? Is he in matter, but not in the mind that molds it? Is he in the stars, but not in the telescope, nor in the mechanic that made it? Is he in the bow in the cloud, but not in the beautiful mechanism of the eye that looks upon it? And is he in the fires of Etna, and not in the locomotive? Give me the philosophy of David, rather than that of Laplace. “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all.” David looked up only to adore. Laplace never worshipped. David saw God everywhere. His boundless glory filled the universe. Laplace looked into the temple of omnipotence to scrutinize the principles of its structure, but saw nothing of “its Builder and Maker who is God.” Let us not be equally blind, unbelieving or irreverent. Let us not say, God is a spirit, infinite, omniscient, omnipresent; and yet deny him an agency in those mechanical forces destined to change the face of the world. Rather let us love and adore. Let us rejoice in the truth, that God reigns and “doeth his pleasure in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth.”

It is this view of the subject which I love to contemplate; and it is because deeply impressed with this view of it, that it is in my heart to congratulate the President and Directors, and my fellow citizens generally, on the completion of the first railway connecting Cleveland with the Capital, and with a great inland city upon the beautiful banks of the Ohio. I feel it to be a noble achievement – worthy our state – worthy the age; and while I praise God, who has furnished the men and the means, the skill and the talent, to carry it forward, amidst toils and difficulties, to a successful termination; I must not forget to mention the only drawback upon our rejoicings.

In the prosecution of the work there was one, who from its commencement has sustained a high and honorable part in it. Of his forecast, integrity, mechanical skill, incessant toil and uncompromising energy and perseverance, I need not speak. In connection with this road, the name of Harbach will long live in our affectionate remembrance. Strange, that just as it was completed, he should drop into the tomb! But we know that active mind lives, and is active still; and who can tell the interest it may now take, viewing events in the clear light of eternity – in the wonderful developments connected with his short but useful career!

“God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.”

Those most useful – whose services to the world seem indispensable, are often, as was our friend, suddenly called away. Let the dispensation, mournful to us all, and especially to the bereaved partner and family, with whom we deeply sympathize, teach us, that in the midst of life we are in death; – that life is only good and great as it works out the problem of a higher destiny, in the realization of a blessed hope of immortality through Jesus Christ.

My Friends, the stirring scenes through which we are passing – the movements of which we are spectators, and in which we are actors, are great to us. And, indeed, connected with the progress of our race, and with the destiny of our country and world, they are great in reality. But another existence is before us. Other scenes are yet to open – scenes of still deeper interest – vastly different in their nature – of a higher order – spiritual, eternal; and we are all approaching them in the great railcar of time, with a speed more rapid than lightning – more irresistible than chariots of fire.

God grant, that through infinite mercy in Jesus Christ, we may be faithful in our day and generation – live to some valuable purpose – that when we reach the great depot of our earthly existence, and go out of this tabernacle, we may enter into the building of God – “An house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”


NOTES

[1] For the information of persons at a distance, it may be well to say a word respecting the occasion which gave rise to this discourse. By invitation from the Common Council of Cleveland, the Legislature of Ohio, now in session, and the Common Councils of Cincinnati and Columbus were induced to unite with the citizens of Cleveland in celebrating Washington’s birthday and the opening of the Cleveland and Columbus Rail Road. Accordingly the Legislature adjourned for this purpose; and, accompanied with numerous gentlemen and ladies, the first train of cars passed over the road on the 21st inst., with entire ease and safety, and the guests remained until the Monday following. The Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, anticipating the presence of strangers on the Sabbath, had determined to speak on the absorbing topic of the day, and had intimated the same to one or two friends. It so happened, that one of our editors hearing of it, inserted his own responsibility a notice of it in his paper, which circumstance will account for the large number of strangers at the Stone Church.

[2] The under ground tunnel of Pozzuoli, near Naples, is said to have been half a league, or, in American measure, one mile and a half. The passage was cut through solid rock fifteen feet square.