Meditations and contemplations. In two volumes. / By James Hervey, A.M. late Rector of Weston Favel, in England. ; [Two lines from Psalms] ; Vol. I[-II].

HERVEY's CONTEMPLATIONS ON THE STARRY HEAVENS.

_THIS evening, I exchange the nice re|treats of art for the noble theatre of na|ture: Instead of measuring my steps under the covert of an arbour, let me range along the summit of this gently rising hill.—There is no need of the leafy shade, since the sun has quitted the horizon, and withdrawn his scorching beams. But see, how advantages and inconveniences are usually linked, and chequer our affairs below! If the annoying heat ceases, the landscape, and its pleasing scenes, are also removed.—The majestick castle, and the lowly cottage, are vanished together. I have lost the aspiring moun|tain, and its russet brow; I look round, but to no pur|pose, for the humble vale, and its flowery lap. The plains whitened with flocks, and the heath yellow with furze, disappear. The advancing night has wrapt in darkness the long extended forest, and drawn her mantle over the windings of the silver stream. I no longer be|hold that luxuriant fertility in the fields; that wild mag|nificence of prospect, and endless variety of images; which have so often touched me with delight, and struck me with awe, from this commanding eminence.

The loss, however, is scarcely to be regretted, since it is amply compensated by the opening beauties of the sky. Here I enjoy a free view of the whole hemisphere; without any obstacle from below, to confine the explor|ing eye; or any cloud from above, to overcast the spa|cious concave. 'Tis true, the lively vermilion which so lately streaked the chambers of the west, is all faded. But the planets, one after another, light up their lamps; the stars advance in their glittering train; a thousand and a thousand luminaries, shine forth in successive splendours; and the wole firmament is kindled into the most beautiful glow. The blueness of the ether, height|ened by the season of the year, and still more enlivened by the absence of the moon, gives those gems of heaven the strongest lustre.

One pleasure more, the invading gloom has not been able to snatch from my sense. The night rather im|proves, than destroys, the fragrance which exhales from the blooming beans. With these, the sides of this sloping declivity are lined; and with these, the balmy zephyrs perfume their wings. Does Arabia, from all her spicy groves, breathe a more liberal, or a more charming gale of sweets? And, what is a peculiar recommenda|tion of the rural entertainments, presented in our happy land, they are alloyed by no apprehensions of danger. No poisonous serpent lurks under the blossom; nor any ravenous beast lies ready to start from the thicket.— But, I wander from a far more exalted subject. My thoughts, like my affections, are too easily diverted from the heavens, and detained by inferiour objects. Away, my attention, from these little blandishments of the earth; since all the glories of the sky invite thy regard.

We have taken a turn among the tombs, and viewed the solemn memorials of the dead, in order to learn the vanity of mortal things, and to break their soft en|chantment.—We have surveyed the ornaments of the gar|den; not that the heart might be planted in the parterre, or take root among the flowery race; but that these del|icacies of a day might teach us to aspire after a better paradise, where beauty never fades, and delight is ever in the bloom.—A third time we lighted the candle of

meditation, and sought for wisdom, not in the crowded city, or wrangling schools, but in the silent and lonely walks of ancient night.* 1.1—Let us once more indulge the contemplative vein, and raise our speculations to those sublimer works of the great Creator, which the regions of the sky contain, and this dusky hour unveils.† 1.2

If we have discerned the touches of his pencil, glow|ing in the colours of spring; if we have seen a sample of his beneficence, exhibited in the stores of nature; and a ray of his brightness, beaming in the blaze of day; what an infinitely richer field for the display of his perfections, are the heavens! The heavens, in the most emphatical manner, declare the glory of GOD. The heavens are nobly eloquent of the Deity, and the most magnificent heralds of their Maker's praise. They speak to the whole universe; for there is neither speech so barbarous, but their language is understood; nor na|tion so distant, but their voices are heard among them.‡ 1.3 —Let me then, in this solemn season, formed for thought, and a calm intercourse with heaven; let me listen to their silent lectures. Perhaps, I may receive such impressive manifestations of "the eternal Power and Godhead," as may shed religion on my soul, while I walk the soli|tary shades; and may be a tutelary friend to my virtue, when the call of business, and the return of light, ex|pose me again to the inroads of temptation.

The Israelites, instigated by frenzy rather than devo|tion, worshipped the host of heaven. And the pre|tenders to judicial astrology talk of, I know not what, mysterious efficacy, in the different aspect of the stars, or the various conjunction and opposition of the planets. —Let those who are unacquainted with the sure word of revelation, give ear to these sons of delusion, and dealers in deceit. For my part, it is a question of in|difference to me, whether the constellations shone with

smiles, or loured in frowns, on the hour of my nativ|ity. Let CHRIST be my guard; and, secure in such a protection, I would laugh at their impotent menaces. Let CHRIST be my guide; and I shall scorn to ask, as well as despair of receiving, any predictory information from such senseless masses.—What! shall

the living seek to the dead?

* 1.4 Can these bodies advertise me of future events, which are unconscious of their own existence? Shall I have recourse to dull unintelligent matter, when I may apply to that all wise Being, who, with one comprehensive glance, distinctly views what|ever is lodged in the bosom of immensity, or forming in the womb of futurity?—Never, never will I search for any intimations of my fate; but often trace my Creator's footsteps,† 1.5 in yonder starry plains. In the former case, they would be teachers of lies; in the latter, they are oracles of truth. In this therefore, this sense only, I profess myself the pupil of the stars.

The vulgar are apprehensive of nothing more than a multitude of bright spangles, dropt over the ethereal blue. They have no higher notion of these fine ap|pearances, than that they are so many golden studs, with which the empyrean arch is decorated.—But studious minds, that carry a more accurate and strict inquiry

among the celestial bodies, bring back advices of a most astonishing import. Let me just recollect the most material of those stupendous discoveries, in order to furnish out proper subjects for contemplation. And let the un|learned remember, that the scene I am going to display, is the workmanship of that incomprehensible GOD, who is "perfect in knowledge, and mighty in power:" Whose name, whose nature, and all whose operations, are "great and marvellous:" Who summons into being, with equal ease, a single grain, or ten thousand worlds.—To this if we continually advert, the assertions, though they will certainly excite our admiration, need not transcend our belief.

The earth is, in fact, a round body; however it may seem, in some parts, to be sunk into vales, and raised into hills;* 1.6 in other parts, to be spread into a spacious plain, extending to the confines of the heav|ens, or terminated by the waters of the ocean:—We may fancy that it has deep foundations, and rests upon some prodigiously solid basis. But it is pendent in the wide transpicuous ether, without any visible cause, to uphold it from above, or support it from beneath.—It may seem to be sedentary in its attitude, and motionless in its situation. But it is continually sailing† 1.7 through the depths of the sky; and in the space of twelve months, finishes the mighty voyage. Which periodical rotation produces the seasons, and completes the year.

—As it proceeds in the annual circuit, it spins upon its own centre; and turns its sides alternately to the foun|tain of light. By which means, the day dawns in one hemisphere, while the night succeeds in the other. Without this expedient, one part of its regions would, during half the great revolution, be scorched with ex|cessive heat, or languish under an unintermitted glare; while the other, exposed to the contrary extremes, would be frozen to ice, and buried under a long oppression of dismal and destructive darkness.

I cannot forbear taking notice, that, in this com|pound motion of the earth, the one never interferes with the other, but both are perfectly compatible. Is it not thus with the precepts of religion, and the needful af|fairs of the present life; not excepting even the innocent gratifications of our appetites?—Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that they must renounce society, if they devote themselves to CHRIST; and abandon all the satisfactions of this world, if they once become zealous candidates for the felicity of another.—But this is a very mistaken notion, or else a very injurious representation, of the doctrine which is according to godliness. It was never intended to drive men into deserts; but to lead them, through the peaceful and pleasant paths of wis|dom, into the blissful regions of life eternal. It was never intended to strike off the wheels of business, or cut in sunder the sinews of industry; but rather, to make men industrious from a principle of conscience, not from the instigations of avarice; that so they may promote their immortal happiness, even while they provide for their temporal maintenance. It has no design to extirp|ate our passions, but only to restrain their irregularities; neither would it extinguish the delights of sense, but prevent them from evaporating into vanity, and subsiding into gall.—A person may be cheerful among his friends, and yet joyful in GOD. He may taste the sweets of his earthly estate; and, at the same time, cherish his hopes of a nobler inheritance in Heaven. The trader may pros|ecute the demands of commerce, without neglecting to negotiate the affairs of his salvation. The warrior may wear his sword; may draw, in a just cause, that murder|ous weapon; yet be a good soldier of JESUS CHRIST,

and obtain the crown that fadeth not away. The pa|rent may lay up a competent portion for his children, and not forfeit his title to the treasures, either of grace or of glory.—So far is christianity from obstructing any valuable interest, or withholding any real pleasure; that it improves the one, and advances the other. Just as the diurnal and annual motions are so far from clashing, that they entirely accord; and instead of being destructive of each other, by mutually blending their effects, they give proportion and harmony to time, fertility and in|numerable benefits to nature.

To us who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far the most extensive orb that our eyes can any where be|hold. It is also clothed with verdure; distinguished by trees; and adorned with a variety of beautiful decora|tions. Whereas, to a spectator placed on one of the planets, it wears an uniform aspect; looks all luminous, and no larger than a spot. To beings who dwell at still greater distances, it entirely disappears.—That which we call alternately, the morning and the evening star; as in one part of her orbit, she rides foremost in the pro|cession of night; in the other, ushers in and anticipates the dawn; is a planetary world: Which, with the four others, that so wonderfully vary their my stick dance, are in themselves dark bodies, and shine only by reflection; have fields, and seas, and skies of their own: Are fur|nished with all accommodations for animal subsistence, and are supposed to be the abodes of intellectual life. All which, together with this our earthly habitation, are de|pendent on that grand dispenser of divine munificence, the sun; receive their light from the distribution of his rays, and derive their comforts from his benign agency.

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages through the sky, is, in this respect,* 1.8 fixed and im|moveable. 'Tis the great axle of heaven, about which the globe we inhabit, and other more spacious orbs, wheel their stated courses.—The sun, though seemingly smaller than the dial it illuminates, is abundantly

larger* 1.9 than this whole earth; on which so many lofty mountains rise, and such vast oceans roll. A line ex|tending from side to side, through the centre of that resplendent orb, would measure more than eight hundred thousand miles: A girdle, formed to go round its cir|cumference, would require a length of millions; were its solid contents to be estimated, the account would overwhelm our understanding, and be almost beyond the power of language to express. † 1.10—Are we startled at these reports of philosophy? Are we ready to cry out in a transport of surprise? How mighty is the Being, who kindled such a prodigious fire, and keeps alive, from age to age, such an enormous mass of flame! Let us attend our philosophick guides, and we shall be brought acquainted with speculations more enlarged and more amazing.

This sun, with all its attendant planets, is but a very little part of the grand machine of the universe. Every star, though, in appearance, no bigger than the diamond that glitters upon a lady's ring, is really a vast globe, like the sun in size and in glory, no less spacious, no less luminous, than the radiant source of our day. So that every star is not barely a world, but the centre of a magnificent system; has a retinue of worlds, irradi|ated by its beams, and revolving round its attractive in|fluence: All which are lost to our sight, in unmeasura|ble wilds of ether.—That the stars appear like so many diminutive, and scarce distinguishable points, is owing to their immense and inconceivable distance. Immense and inconceivable indeed it is; since a ball shot from the loaded cannon, and flying with unabated rapidity, must travel, at this impetuous rate, almost seven hun|dred

thuosand years,* 1.11 before it could reach the nearest of those twinkling luminaries.

Can any thing be more wonderful than these obser|vations? Yes: There are truths far more stupendous; there are scenes far more extensive. As there is no end of the Almighty Maker's greatness; so no imagination can set limits to his creating hand.—Could you soar be|yond the moon, and pass through all the planetary choir; could you wing your way to the highest apparent star, and take your stand on one of those lofty pinnacles of heaven; you would there see other skies expanded; another sun distributing his inexhaustible beams by day; other stars, that gild the horrours of the alternate night; and other,† 1.12 perhaps nobler systems, established; estab|lished, in unknown profusion, through the boundless dimensions of space.—Nor does the dominion of the universal Sovereign terminate there. Even at the end of this vast tour, you would find yourself advanced no farther than the suburbs of creation; arrived only at the frontiers of the great JEHOVAH's kingdom.‡ 1.13

And do they tell me, that the sun, the moon, and all the planets are but a little part of HIS works? How great, then, are his signs! and how mighty are his wonders! ‖ 1.14—And if so, what is the CREATOR him|self!

How far exalted above all praise! Who is so high, that he looks down on the highest of these dazzling spheres, and sees even the summit of creation in a vale; so great, that this prodigious extent of space, is but a point in his presence; and all this confluence of worlds, as the lightest atom that fluctuates in air, and sports in the meridian ray.* 1.15

Thou most sublime and incomprehensibly glorious GOD, how am I overwhelmed with awe! how sunk into the lowest prostration of mind! when I consider thy "exccellent greatness," and my own utter insignificancy! —And have I, excessively mean as I am, have I enter|tained any conceited apprehensions of myself? Have I felt the least elatement of thought, in the presence of so majestick and adorable a Being? How should this wound me with sorrow, and cover me with confusion!—O my GOD, was I possessed of all the high perfections, which accomplish and adorn the angels or light; amidst all these noble endowments, I would fall down in the deepest abasement at thy feet. Lost in the infinitely superiour blaze of thy uncreated glories, I would confess myself to be nothing; to be less than nothing and vanity.— How much more ought I to maintain the most unfeigned humiliation, before thy divine majesty; who am not

only dust and ashes, but a compound of ignorance, im|perfection and depravity!

While beholding this vast expanse, I learn my own extreme meanness, I would also discover the abject lit|tleness of all terrestrial things.—What is the earth, with all her ostentatious scenes, compared with this astonish|ingly grand furniture of the skies? What but a dim speck, hardly perceivable in the map of the universe? It is observed, by a very judicious writer, * 1.16 that if the sun himself, which enlightens this part of the creation, was extinguished; and all the host of planetary worlds, which move about him, were annihilated; they would not be missed, by an eye that can take in the whole com|pass of nature, any more than a grain of sand upon the sea shore. The bulk of which they consist, and the space which they occupy, is so exceedingly little incom|parison of the whole, that their loss would scarce leave a blank in the immensity of GOD's works.—If then, not our globe only, but this whole system, be so very diminutive; what is a kingdom or a county? What are a few lordships, or the so much admired patrimonies of those who are stiled wealthy? † 1.17 When I measure them with my own little pittance, they swell into proud and bloated dimensions. But, when I take the universe for my standard, how scanty is their size, how contempt|ible their figure! They shrink into pompous nothings.‡ 1.18

When the keen eyed eagle soars above all the feath|ered race, and leaves their very sight below; when she wings her way with direct ascent, up the steep of heaven; and steadily gazing on the meridian sun, ac|counts its beaming splendours all her own: Does she then regard, with any solicitude, the mote that is flying in the air, or the dust which she shook from her feet? And shall this eternal mind, which is capable of contemplat|ing its Creator's glory; which is intended to enjoy the visions of his countenance; shall this eternal mind, en|dued with such great capacities, and made for such ex|alted ends, be so ignobly ambitious, as to sigh for the tin|sels

of state; or so poorly covetous, as to grasp after ample territories on a needle's point?—No: Under the influ|ence of such considerations, I feel my sentiments expand, and my wishes acquire a turn of sublimity. My throb|bing desires after worldly grandeur die away; and I find myself, if not possessed of power, yet superiour to its charms.—Too long, must I own, have my affections been pinioned by vanity, and immured in this earthly clod. But these thoughts break the shackles: * 1.19 These objects open the door of liberty. My soul, fired by such noble prospects, weighs anchor from this little nook, and coasts no longer about its contracted shores; dotes no longer on its painted shells. The immensity of things is her range; and an infinity of bliss is her aim.

Behold this immense expanse, and admire the con|descension of thy GOD.—In this manner an inspired and princely astronomer, improved his survey of the noctur|nal heavens: When I consider thy heavens, even the works of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast or|dained, I am smitten with wonder at thy glory, and cry out in a transport of gratitude, LORD what is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou visitest him? † 1.20

How amazing, how charming, is that Divine Benignity which is pleased to bow down its sacred regards, to so foolish and worthless a creature! Yea, disdains not, from the height of infinite exalta|tion, to extend its kind providential care, to our most minute concerns!—This is amazing. But that the everlasting sovereign should give his son, to be made flesh, and become our Saviour! shall I call it a mira|cle of condescending goodness? Rather, what are all miracles, what are all mysteries, to this ineffable gift!

Had the brightest archangel been commissioned to come down, with the olive branch of peace in his hand, sig|nifying his eternal Maker's readiness to be reconciled; on our bended knees, with tears of joy, and a torrent of thankfulness, we ought to have received the transport|ing news. But when, instead of such an angelick en|voy, he sends his only begotten Son; his Son beyond all thought illustrious, to make us the gracious overture:— Sends him from the

habitation of his holiness and glory,

to put on the infirmities of mortality, and dwell in a tabernacle of clay:—Sends him, not barely to make us a transient visit, but to abide many years in our inferiour and miserable world:—Sends him, not to exercise dominion over monarchs, but to wear out his life in the ignoble form of a servant; and, at last, to make his exit under the infamous character of a male|factor! Was ever love like this? Did ever grace stoop so low?* 1.21—Should the sun be shorn of all his radiant honours, and degraded into a clod of the valleys; should all the dignitaries of Heaven be deposed from their

thrones, and degenerates into insects of a day; great, great would be the abasement. But nothing to thine, most blessed JESUS; nothing to thine, thou Prince of peace; when, for us men, and for our salvation, thou didst not abhor the coarse accommodations of the man|ger; thou didst not decline even the gloomy horrours of the grave.

'Tis well, the sacred oracles have given this doctrine the most explicit confirmation, and evidence quite in|contestable. Otherwise, a favour so undeserved, so un|expected, and rich beyond all imagination, might stag|ger our belief.—Could HE who launches all these plan|etary globes, through the illimitable void, and leads them on, from age to age, in their extensive career; could HE resign his hands to be confined by the gird|ing cord, and his back to be ploughed by the bloody scourge?—Could HE who crowns all the stars with in|extinguishable brightness, be himself defiled with spit|ting, and disfigured with the thorny scar? It is the great|est of wonders, and yet the surest of truths.

O! ye mighty orbs, that roll along the spaces of the sky; I wondered, a little while ago, at your vast di|mensions, and ample circuits. But now my amazement ceases; or rather, is entirely swallowed up by a much more stupendous subject. Methinks your enormous bulk is shrivelled to an atom; your prodigious revolutions are contracted to a span; while I muse upon the far more elevated heights, and unfathomable depths; the infinite|ly more extended lengths, and unlimited breadths, of this love of GOD in CHRIST JESUS.* 1.22

Contemplating this stately expanse, I see a mir|ror which represents, in the most awful colours, the heinousness of human guilt.—Ten thousand volumes, wrote on purpose to display the aggravations of my va|rious acts of disobedience, could not so effectually con|vince me of their inconceivable enormity, as the consid|eration of that all glorious Person, † 1.23 who, to make an atonement for them, spilt the last drop of his blood.—

I have sinned, may every child of Adam say; and what shall I do unto Thee. O thou Observer of men? * 1.24 Shall I give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? Vain commutation! and such as would be rejected by the blessed GOD, with the utmost abhorrence.—Will all the potentates, that sway the sceptre in a thousand kingdoms, devote their royal and honoured lives, to rescue an obnoxious creature from the stroke of vengeance? Alas! it must cost more, in|comparably more, to expiate the malignity of sin, and save a guilty wretch from Hell.—Will all the principali|ties of Heaven be content to assume my nature, and re|sign themselves to death for my pardon? † 1.25 Even this

would be too mean a satisfaction for inexorable justice; too scanty a reparation of GOD's injured honour. So flagrant is human guilt, that nothing but a victim of infinite dignity could constitute an adequate propitiation. —He who said,

let there be light, and there was light;

let there be a firmament, and immediately the blue curtains floated in the sky; He must take flesh; HE must feel the fierce torments of crucifixion; and pour out his soul in agonies, if ever such transgressors are pardoned.

How vast is that debt, which all the wealth of both the Indies cannot discharge! How vitiated that habit of body, which all the drugs produced by nature herself, cannot rectify! But how much more ruined was thy con|dition, O my soul! how much more heinous were thy crimes! Since nothing less than the sufferings and death of Messiah, the Son of GOD, and radiant image of his glory, could effect thy recovery, or cancel thy iniquity. —Though perhaps thou art not sunk so very deep in pollution as some of the most abandoned profligates, yet remember the inestimable ransom paid to redeem thee from everlasting destruction. Remember this, and "never open thy mouth any more,"* 1.26 either to murmur at the divine chastisement, or to glory in thy own at|tainments. Remember this; and even

loath thyself, † 1.27 for the multitude of thy provocations,

and thy great baseness.

Once more: Let me view this beautiful, this mag|nificent expanse; and conceive some juster apprehen|sions of the unknown richness of my Saviour's atonement. —I am informed, by a writer who cannot mistake, that the High Priest of my profession, who was also the sacri|fice for my sins, is higher than the heavens: ‡ 1.28 more exalted in dignity, more bright with glory, than all the heavenly mansions, and all their illustrious inhabitants. If my heart was humbled at the consideration of its excessive guilt; how do all my drooping powers revive at this delightful thought? The poor criminal, that seemed to

be tottering on the very brink of the infernal pit, is rais|ed, by such a belief, even to the portals of paradise. My self abasement, I trust, will always continue; but my fears, under the influence of such a conviction, are quite gone.* 1.29 I do not, I cannot, doubt the efficacy of this propitiation. While I see a glimpse of its matchless ex|cellency, and verily believe myself interested in its mer|its, I know not what it is to feel any misgiving suspi|cions; but am stedfast in faith, and joyful through hope.

Be my iniquities like debts of millions of talents, here is more than full payment for all that prodigious sum. Let the enemy of mankind, and accuser of the brethren, load me with invectives; this one plea—A di|vine Redeemer died, most thoroughly quashes every indict|ment. For, though there be much turpitude, and man|ifold transgressions,

there is no condemnation to those that are in CHRIST JESUS.

—Nay, were I chargeable with all the vilest deeds which have been c••mmitted in every age of the world, by every nation of men; even in this most deplorable case, I need not sink into despair. Even such guilt, though grievous beyond all expression, is not to be compared with that abundance of grace and righteousness, which dwell in the incarnate Divinity.—How great, how transcendently glo|rious

are the perfections of the adored JEHOVAH! So great, so superlatively precious, is the expiation of the dying JESUS. 'Tis impossible for the human mind to exalt this atonement* 1.30 too highly: 'Tis impossible for the humble penitent to confide in it too steadily. The scriptures, the scriptures of eternal truth have said it, (exult, my soul, in the belief of it!) that the blood on which we rely, is GOD's own blood; † 1.31 and therefore all sufficient to expiate, omnipotent to save.

David, that egregious sinner, but more exemplary saint, seems to have been well acquainted with this com|fortable truth. What else can be the import of that very remarkable, but most devout declaration? Thou shalt purge ‡ 1.32 me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: Thou shal•• wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.—

I have been guilty, I must confess, of the most complicated and shocking crimes: Crimes, inflamed by every aggra|vating circumstance, with regard to myself, my neigh|bour, and my GOD. Myself, who have been blessed above men, and the distinguished favourite of Provi|dence; my neighbour, who, in the most dear and ten|der interests, has been irreparably injured; my GOD, who might justly expect the most grateful returns of duty, instead of such enormous violations of his law. Yet, all horrid and execrable as my offence is, it is nothing to the superabundant merit of that great Re|deemer,

who was promised from the foundations of the world; in whom all my fathers trusted; who is the hope of all the ends of the earth. Though my con|science be more loathsome, with adulterous impurity, than the dunghill; though treachery and murder have rendered it even black as the gloom of Hell; yet, washed in the 'fountain opened for sin and for un|cleanness,'* 1.33 I shall be—I say, not pure only; this were a disparagement to the efficacy of my Saviour's death; but I shall be fair as the lily, and white as the snow. Nay, let me not derogate from the glorious ob|ject of my confidence; cleansed by this sovereign sanctifying stream, I shall be fairer than the full blown lily, whiter than the new fallen snows.

Power, saith the scripture, belongeth unto GOD. † 1.34— And in what majestick lines is this attribute of JEHO|VAH written, throughout the whole volume of the creation? Especially, through those magnificent pages, unfolded in yonder starry regions: Which are therefore styled, by the sweet and seraphick singer of Israel,

The firmament of his power;

‡ 1.35 because the grand ex|ploits of omnipotence are there displayed with the utmost pomp, and recorded in the most legible characters.

Who, that looks upward to the midnight sky, and, with an eye of reason, beholds its rolling wonders; who can forbear inquiring—Of what were those mighty orbs formed?—Amazing to relate! They were produced without materials. They sprung from emptiness itself. The stately fabrick of universal nature emerged out of nothing.—What instruments were used by the Supreme Architect, to fashion the parts with such ••xquisite nice|ness, and give so beautiful a polish to th•• whole. How was all connected into one finely p••oportioned, and nobly finished structure?—A bare fiat accomplished all. Let them be, said GOD: He added no more; and im|mediately the marvellous edifice arose, adorned with every beauty; displaying innumerable perfections; and declaring, amidst enraptured seraphs, its great Creator's praise.

By the word of the LORD were the heavens made, and all the hosts of them by the breath of his

mouth.

* 1.36—What forceful machinery fixed some of those ponderous globes on an immoveable basis? What irresistible impulse bowled others through the circuit of the heavens? What coercive energy confined their im|petuous courses within limits, astonishingly large, yet most minutely true?—Nothing but his sovereign will. For all things were at first constituted, and all to this day abide, "according to his ordinance."

Without any toilsome assiduity or laborious process, to raise—to touch—to speak such a multitude of im|mense bodies into being—to launch them through the spaces of the sky, as an arrow from the hand of a gi|ant—to impress on such unwieldy masses, a motion far outstripping the swiftness of the winged creation; † 1.37 and to continue them in the same rapid whirl, for thousands and thousands of years!—What an amazing instance of infinite might is this!—Can any thing be impossible to the LORD, the LORD GOD; the Creator and Controller of all the ends of the earth, all the regions of the universe?

Rather, is not all that we count difficult, perfect ease to that glorious Being, who only spake, and the world was made?* 1.38 Who only gave command, and the stupendous axle was lodged fast, the lofty wheels moved complete? —What a sure defence, O my soul, is this everlasting strength of thy GOD! Be this thy continual refuge, in the article of danger; this thy never failing resource, in every time of need.

What cannot this uncontrollable power of the great JEHOVAH effect for his people? Be their mis|eries ever so galling, cannot this GOD relieve them? Be their wants ever so numerous, cannot this GOD sup|ply them? Be their corruptions within, ever so invet|erate; or their temptations without, ever so importunate; cannot this mighty, mighty GOD subdue the former, and fortify them against the latter?—Should trials, with an incessant vehemence, sift thee as wheat; should tribulation, with a weight of woes, almost grind thee to powder; should pleasure, with her bewitching smiles, solicit thee to delicious ruin; yet "hold thee fast by GOD," and lay thy help upon him that is omnipotent. † 1.39 Thou canst

not be involved in such calamitous circumstances, or ex|posed to such imminent peril, but thy GOD, whom thou servest, is able to deliver thee from the one, and to sup|port thee under the other.—To support! to deliver! Let me not dishonour the unlimited greatness of his power. He is able to exalt thee, from the deepest distress, to the most triumphant joy; and to make even a complication of evils work together for thy everlasting good. He is able, not only to accomplish what I have been speaking, but to do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think. * 1.40

O! the wretched condition of the wicked, who have this LORD of all power for their enemy! O! the des|perate madness of the ungodly, who provoke the Al|mighty to jealousy!—Besotted creatures! are you able to contend with your Maker, and enter the lists against incensed Omnipotence? Can you bear the fierceness of

his wrath, or sustain the vengeance of his lifted arm? At his presence, though awfully serene, the hills melt like wax, and the

mountains skip like frighted lambs.

At the least intimation of his displeasure, the foundations of nature rock, and the

pillars of heaven tremble.

How then can a withered leaf endure, when

his lips are full of indignation, and his tongue as a devouring fire?

—Or can any thing screen a guilty worm, when the great and terrible GOD shall whet his glittering sword, and his hand take hold on inexorable judgment? When that hand, which shoots the planets, masses of excessive bulk, * 1.41 with such surprising rapidity, through the sky; that hand, which darts the comets to such unmeasurable distances, beyond the orbit of our remotest planet, beyond the pursuit of the strong|est eye: When THAT HAND is stretched out to punish, can the munition of rocks, the intervention of seas, or e|ven interposing worlds, divert the blow?—Consider this, ambition; and bow thy haughty crest. Consider this, disobedience; and bend thy iron sinew. O! consider this, all ye that forget, or affront the tremendous JEHO|VAH. He can, by a single act of his will, lay the uni|verse in utter ruin: And can he want power to bring you, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, to the dust of death, or to the flames of Hell? He has—I say not, ten thousand lightnings to scorch you to ashes; ten thousand thunders to crush you into atoms; but, what is unspeakably more dreadful—He has an army of terrours, even in the look of his angry countenance. His very frown is worse than destruction.

I cannot dismiss this subject, without admiring the patience of the blessed GOD. Who, though so strong and powerful, yet "is provoked every day."— Surely, as is his majesty, so is his mercy; his pity alto|gether

commensurate to his power. If I vilify but the name of an earthly monarch, I lose my liberty, and am confined to the dungeon. If I appear in arms, and draw the sword against my national sovereign, my life is forfeited, and my very blood will scarce atone for the crime. But thee I have dishonoured, O! thou King im|mortal and invisible! Against thee my breast has fo|mented secret disaffection; my behaviour has risen up in open rebellion; and yet I am spared, yet I am preserved. Instead of being banished from thy presence, I sit at thy table, and am fed from thy hand. Instead of pursuing me with thunder bolts of vengeance, thy favours sur|round me on every side. That arm, that injured arm, which might justly fall with irretrievable ruin, on a traitor's head, is most graciously stretched out, to caress him with the tenderest endearments; to cherish him with every instance of parental kindness—O! thou mightiest, thou best of beings, how am I pained at my very soul, for such shameful and odious disingenuity! Let me always abominate myself, as the basest of crea|tures; but adore that unwearied long suffering of thine, which refuses to be irritated; love that unremitted good|ness, which no acts of ingratitude could stop, or so much as check, in its gracious current. O! let this stubborn heart, which duty could not bind, which threatenings could not awe, be the captive, the willing captive, of such triumphant beneficence.

I have often been struck with wonder at that al|mighty skill, which weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance; which proportioned the waters in the hollow of its hand, and adjusted the dust of the earth * 1.42 by a measure. But how much more marvellous

is that magnificent economy, which poised the stars with inexpressible nicety, and meted out the heavens with a span! Where all is prodigiously vast; immensely vari|ous; and yet more than mathematically exact. Surely the wisdom of GOD manifests itself in the skies, and shines in those lucid orbs: Shines on the contemplative mind, with a lustre incomparably brighter than that which their united splendours transmit to the eye.

Behold yonder countless multitude of globes; con|sider their amazing magnitude; regard them as the sovereigns of so many systems, each accompanied with his planetary equipage. Upon this supposition, what a multiplicity of mighty spheres must be perpetually run|ning their rounds, in the upper regions! Yet none mistake their way, or wander from the goal, though they pass through trackless and unbounded fields. None fly off from their orbits, into extravagant excursions; none press in upon their centre with too near an ap|proach. None interfere with each other in their peren|nial passage, or intercept the kindly communications of another's influence.* 1.43 But all their rotations proceed in eternal harmony; keeping such time, and observing such laws, as are most exquisitely adapted to the perfec|tion of the whole.

While I contemplate this

excellent wisdom, which made the heavens,

and attunes all their motions, how am I abashed at that mixture of arrogance and folly, which has, at any time, inclined me to murmur at thy dispensations, O LORD! What is this, but a sort of implicit treason against thy supremacy, and a tacit

denial of thy infinite understanding?—Hast thou so regularly placed such a wonderful diversity of systems, through the spaces of the universe?—Didst thou, with|out any probationary essays, without any improving re|touches, speak them into the most consummate perfec|tion?—Dost thou continually superintend all their cir|cumstances, with a sagacity that never mistakes the mi|nutest title of propriety? And shall I be so unaccount|ably stupid, as to question the justness of thy discernment, in

choosing my inheritance, and fixing the bounds of my habitation!

—Not a single erratum in model|ling the structure; determining the distance,* 1.44 and conducting the career of unnumbered worlds! And shall my peevish humour presume to censure thy interposition, with regard to the affairs of one inconsiderable creature; whose stature, in such a comparative view, is less than a span, and his present duration little more than a moment?

O! thou GOD,

in whose hand my breath is, and whose are all my ways,

let such sentiments as now possess my thoughts, be always lively on my heart! These shall compose my mind into a cheerful acquies|cence, and a thankful submission, even when afflictions gall the sense, or disappointments break my schemes. Then shall I, like the grateful patriarch, † 1.45 in all the changes of my condition, and even in the depths of distress, erect an altar of adoring resignation, and in|scribe it with the Apostle's motto—To GOD ONLY WISE. Then, shouldst thou give me leave to be the carver of my own fortunes, I would humbly desire to relinquish the grant, and recommit the disposal of my|self to thy unerring beneficence. Fully persuaded that

thy counsels, though contrary to my froward inclinations, or even afflictive to my flesh, are incomparably more eligible, than the blind impulse of my own will, how|ever soothing to animal nature.

On a careless inspection, you perceive no accuracy or uniformity in the position of the heavenly bodies. They appear like an illustrious chaos; a promiscuous heap of shining globes; neither ranked in order, nor moving by line.—But what seems confusion, is all regularity. What carries a show of negligence, is really the result of the most masterly contrivance. You think, perhaps, they rove in their aëreal flight; but they rove by the nicest rule, and without the least errour. Their circuits, though seemingly devious; their mazes, though intricate to our apprehensions,* 1.46 are marked out, not indeed with golden compasses, but by the infinitely more exact de|terminations of the all wise Spirit.

So, what wears the appearance of calamity, in the allotments appointed for the godly, has really the na|ture of a blessing. It issues from fatherly love, and will terminate in the richest good. If Joseph is snatched from the embraces of an indulgent parent, and abandon|ed to slavery in a foreign land, it is in order to save the holy family from perishing by famine; and to preserve

the seed in whom all the nations of the earth should be blessed.

If he falls into the deepest disgrace, it is on purpose that he may rise to the highest honours. Even the confinement of the prison, by the unsearchable workings of Providence, opens his way to the right hand of the throne itself.—Let the most afflicted servant of JESUS, wait the final upshot of things. He will then discover the apparent expediency of all those tribula|tions, which now, perhaps, he can hardly admit without reluctance, or suffer without some struggles of dissatis|faction. Then the gushing tear, and the heaving sigh, will be turned into tides of gratitude, and hymns of holy wonder.

In the mean time, let no audacious railer presump|tuously impeach the divine procedure; but, adoring where we cannot comprehend, let us expect the evolu|tion of the mysterious plan. Then shall every eye per|ceive, that the seeming labyrinths of Providence, were the most direct and compendious way to effect his general purposes of grace, and to bring about each one's partic|ular happiness.* 1.47—Then also, shall it be clearly shewn, in the presence of applauding worlds, why virtue pined in want, while vice rioted in affluence: Why amiable innocence so often dragged the dungeon chain, while horrid guilt trailed the robe of state.—That day of uni|versal audit, that day of everlasting retribution, will not only vindicate, but magnify the whole management of Heaven. The august sessions shall close with this unanimous, this glorious acknowledgment:

Though clouds and darkness, impenetrable by any human scru|tiny, were sometimes round about the supreme Conduc|tor of things, yet righteousness and judgment were the constant habitation of his seat;† 1.48 the invariable standard of all his administrations.

—Thus (if I may illustrate the grandest truths by inferiour occurrences) while we view the arras, on the side of least distinction, it is void of any elegant fancy; without any nice strokes of art; nothing but a confused jumble of incoherent threads. No sooner is the piece beheld in its proper aspect, but the suspected rudeness vanishes, and the most curious arrangement takes place. We are charmed with designs of the finest taste, and figures of the most grace|ful form. All is shaped with symmetry; all is clad in beauty.

The goodness of GOD is most eminently displayed in the skies.—Could we take an understanding survey of whatever is formed by the divine Architect, through|out the whole extent of material things, our minds

would be transported with their excellencies, and our tongues echo back that great encomium, they are "good, very good▪"* 1.49 Most beautiful † † 1.50 in themselves; contrived by unerring wisdom, and executed with inim|itable skill. Most useful † † 1.51 in their functions; exactly ••itting the places they fill, and completely answering the purposes for which they were intended.—All the parts of the inanimate creation proclaim, both by their intrin|sick and relative excellencies, the all diffusive beneficence of their Maker.

How much more wonderful are the displays of di|vine indulgence, in the worlds of life! Because dead matter is incapable of delight, therefore the gracious Creator has raised innumerable ranks of perceptive ex|istence: Such as are qualified to taste his bounty, and enjoy each a happiness suited to its peculiar state. With this view, he furnished the regions of inferiour nature with an order and a series of sensitive beings: The waters teem with shoals of finny inhabitants: The dry land swarms with animals of every order: The dwell|ings of the firmament are occupied by multitudes of winged people: Not so much as a green leaf, philoso|phers say, but lodges and accommodates its puny ani|malcule tenants.‡ 1.52—And wherefore this diversity, this

profusion of living creatures, flying the air, treading the ground, and gliding through the paths of the sea? For this most glorious reason—that the eternal sovereign may exercise his surperabundant goodness; that his table may be furnished with millions and millions of guests; that he may fill, every hour, every moment, their mouths with food, or their hearts with gladness.

But what a small theatre are three or four elements for the operations of JEHOVAH's bounty! His magnif|icent liberality scorns such scanty limits. If you ask, wherefore has he created all worlds, and replenished them with an unknown multiplicity of beings, rising, one above another, in an endless gradation of still richer endowment, and still nobler capacities? the answer is—For the manifestation of his own glory, and espec|ially for the communication of his inexhaustible benefi|cence.* 1.53—The great Creator could propose no advan|tage to himself. His bliss is incapable of any addition.

Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were made,

he was supremely happy in his own independent and all sufficient self.

His grand design therefore, in erecting so many stately fabricks, and peopling them with so many tribes of in|habitants, was to transfuse his exuberant kindness, and impart felicity in all its forms. Ten thousand worlds, stocked with ten thousand times ten thousand ranks of sensitive and intelligent existence, are so many spacious gardens, which, with rivers of communicated joy, this ever flowing fountain waters continually.

Boundless ** 1.54 and (which raises our idea of this divine principle, to the very highest degree of perfection) disinterested ** 1.55 muni••icence! How inexpressibly amiable is the blessed GOD, considered in this charming light! Is it possible to conceive any excellence so adorable and lovely, as infinite benevolence, guided by unerring wisdom, and exerting almighty power, on purpose to make a whole universe happy?—O my soul, what an irresistible attractive is here! What a most worthy object for thy most fervent affection! Shall now every glitter|ing toy become a rival to this transcendently benefi|cent Being, and rob him of thy heart?—No. Let his all creating arm teach thee, to trust in the fulness of his sufficiency:—Let his all superintending eye incline thee to acquiesce in the dispensations of his providence:— And let his bounty, so freely vouchsafed, so amply dif|fused, induce thee to love him, with all the ardour of a grateful and admiring soul; induce thee to serve him, not with a joyless awe, or slavish dread, but with un|feigned alacrity, and a delightful complacency.

If the goodness of GOD is so admirably seen, in the works of nature, and the favours of Providence; with what a noble superiority does it even triumph in the mystery of redemption! † 1.56 Redemption, is the brightest

mirror, in which to contemplate this most lovely attri|bute of the Deity. Other gifts are only as mites from the divine treasury; but redemption opens, I had al|most said exhausts, all the stores of indulgence and grace. Herein "GOD commendeth his love;* 1.57" not only man|ifests, but sets it off, as it were, with every bright and grand embellishment; manifests it in so stupendous a manner, that it is beyond parallel; beyond thought; "above all blessing and praise."—Was he not thy Son, everlasting GOD, thy only Son; the Son of thy bosom from eternal ages; the highest object of thy complacen|tial delight? Was not thy love to this adorable Son, in|comparably greater than the tenderest affection of any, or the united affections of all, mortal parents? Was not the blessed JESUS more illustrious in excellency, than all angels; more exalted in dignity, than all Heavens? Yet didst thou resign HIM, for poor mortals; for vile sinners!—Couldst thou see him descend from his royal throne, and take up his abode in the sordid stable? See him forego the homage of the seraphim, and stand exposed to the reproachful indignities of an insolent rab|ble? See him arraigned at the bar, and sentenced to death; numbered with malefactors, and nailed to the gibbet; bathed in his own innocent blood, and pouring out his soul in agonies of sorrow?—Could the Father, the Father himself, with unknown philanthropy,† 1.58 say—

It shall, it shall be so! My pity to rebellious man, pleads, and prevails. Awake, therefore, O sword, ‡ 1.59 edged with divine wrath: Awake, and be sheathed in that immaculate breast; pierce that dearly beloved heart. I am content that my son endure the sharp|ness

of death, rather than sinful mortals perish forev|er.

—Incomprehensible love! May it henceforward be the favourite subject of my meditation; more delight|ful to my musing mind, than applause to the ambitious ear! May it be the darling theme of my discourse; sweeter to my tongue, than the droppings of the honey|comb to my taste! May it be my choicest comfort, through all the changes of life; and my reviving cor|dial, even in the last extremities of dissolution itself.

A prophet contemplating, with a distant survey, this unexampled instance of almighty love, is wrapt into a transport of devotion. At a loss for proper acknowl|edgments, he calls upon the whole universe to aid his labouring breast, and supply his lack of praise. Sing melodiously, ye vaulted heavens; exult, and even leap for gladness, thou cumberous earth; ye mountains, break your long silence, and burst into peals of loudest acclama|tions;* 1.60 for the LORD, by this precious gift, and this great salvation, hath comforted his people.—A sacred his|torian hath left it upon record, that, at the first exhi|bition of this ravishing scene, there was with the angel who brought the blessed tidings, a multitude of the heav|enly host, praising GOD, and making the concave of the skies resound with their hallelujahs. At the dawn of the Sun of righteousness, when he was beginning to rise with healing in his wings, the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of GOD shouted for joy.— And shall man, whom this gracious dispensation prin|cipally respects; shall man, who is the centre of all these

gladdening rays; shall he have no heart to adore, no an|them to celebrate, this

Love without end, and without measure grace?

MILT.

How pure is the state of the sky, and how clear its aspect! clearer than the limpid stream; purer than the transparent chrystal; and more curiously fine than the polished mirror. That stately ceiling; fretted with gold, and stretched to an extent of many millions of leagues, is not disfigured with a single flaw. That azure canopy, embroidered with stars, and spacious enough to form a covering for unnumbered worlds, is without the least spot or wrinkle.—Yet this, even this, will scarcely yield us so much as a faint representation of the divine purity. GOD, is a GOD of matchless and transcendent excel|lency. His ways are uprightness itself. His coun|sels and words are the very sanctity of wisdom and of truth. The laws which he has given to universal nature, are exquisitely contrived, and beyond all possi|bility of improvement. The precepts which he has ap|pointed for the human race, are a complete summary of all that is honourable in itself, and perfective of the rational mind.—Not the least oversight in planning a series of events for all futurity. Not the least malad|ministration, in managing the affairs of every age since time began; and of every nation under the whole heavens.—Pardon these disparaging expressions. A neg|ative perfection is far, far beneath thy dignity, O thou Most Highest.* 1.61 In all these instances; in all thy acts, and all thy attributes, thou art not only holy, but "glorious in holiness."

So inconceivably holy is the LORD GOD of hosts, that he sees defilement even in the brightness of the fir|mament. The living sapphire of the heavens, before his majesty, loses its lustre. Yea, the stars (though the most pure and resplendent part of the heavens) are not pure in his sight. How much less man, who, in his fallen and depraved state, is but as a worm, that crawls in the corrupted carcass; and the son of man, who, by reason of his manifold actual impurities, is, too justly compared to an insect, that wallows amidst stench and pu|trefaction? * 1.62—Is there not then abundant cause, for the

most irreproachable and eminent of mankind, to renounce all arrogant pretensions; to lay aside every assuming air; to take nothing but shame and confusion to themselves? A holy prophet, and a holy prince, felt such humbling impressions, from a glimpse of the uncreated Purity. I abhor myself in dust and ashes, * 1.63 was the declaration of the one: I am a man of unclean lips, † 1.64 the confession of the other.—Should not this teach us all to adore the divine mercies, for that precious purifying fountain, ‡ 1.65 which was foretold from the foundation of the world, but was opened at that awful juncture when knotty whips tore the flesh; when ragged thorns mangled the temples; when sharpened nails cut fresh sluices for the crimson current; when the gash of the spear complet|ed the dreadful work, and forthwith flowed there, from the wounded heart, blood and water?

Especially, since GOD himself saw no blemish in his dear son. He looketh to the moon, and it shineth not: Yet his all penetrating and jealous eye, discerned nothing amiss, nothing defective, in our glorious Redeemer. Nothing amiss? He bore this most illustrious testimony, concerning his holy child JESUS:

In him I am well pleased; I acquiesce, with entire complacency, and with the highest delight, in his person; his undertaking, and the whole execution of his office.

—How should this thought enliven our hopes, while the other mortifies our pride? Should not our hearts spring within us, and even leap for joy, at the repeated assurances given us by revelation, that such a divinely excellent person is our Mediator? What apparent reason has every believer, to adopt the blessed virgin's exclamation!

My soul doth magnify the LORD, for his transcendent mercy; and my spirit rejoices, not in wide extended harvests, waving over my fertile glebe; ‖ ‖ 1.66 not in armies vanquished, and leaving the peculiar treasure of nations for my spoil; ‖ ‖ 1.67

but an infinitely richer, nobler blessing, even in GOD my Saviour.

—That a person so sublime and perfect, has vouchsafed to become my surety; to give himself for my ransom in the world below, and act as my advocate in the royal presence above; yea, to make my recovery the reward of his sufferings; my final felic|ity the honour of his mediatorial kingdom!

When an innumerable multitude * 1.68 of bodies, many of them more than a hundred thousand miles in diame|ter, † 1.69 are all set in motion:—When the orbits, in which they perform their periodical revolutions, are extended at the rate of several hundreds of millions:—When each has a distinct and separate sphere for finishing his vast cir|cuit:—When no one knows what it is to be cramped; but each most freely expatiates in his unbounded career:—When every one is placed at such an immense remove from each other, that they appear to their respective in|habitants only as so many spots of light:—How astonish|ing must be the expanse, which yields room for all those mighty globes, and their widely diffused operations! To what prodigious lengths did the Almighty Builder stretch his line, when he marked out the stupendous platform!—I wonder at such an immeasurable extent. My very thoughts are lost in this abyss of space. But, be it known to mortals, be it never forgot by sinners, that in all its most surprising amplitude, it is small, it is scanty, compared with the bounty and the mercy of its Maker.

His bounty is absolutely without limits, ‡ 1.70 and with|out end. The most lavish generosity cannot exhaust,

or even diminish his munificence. O! all ye tribes of men, or rather, all ye classes of intelligent crea|tures, ye are not straitened in the liberality of your ever blessed Creator; be not straitened in your own expectations.

Open your mouth wide, and he shall fill it,

with copious and continual draughts from the cup of joy. Your GOD, on whom is your whole de|pendence, is more than able, is more than willing, to

supply all your need, according to his riches in glory.

—When the LORD JEHOVAH is the giv|er, and his grace * 1.71 the gift, let your wishes be un|bounded, and your cravings insatiable. All that creat|ed beings can possibly covet, is but a very small pittance of that unknown happiness, which the everlasting Ben|efactor is ready to bestow. Suppose every charitable dis|position which warms the hearts of the human race, added to those more enlarged affections which glow in heavenly bosoms; what were they all, even in their highest exercise, compared with the benignity of the Di|vine Nature?—Bless me then, thou eternal Source of love; bless all that reverence thy holy name, according to thy own most profuse goodness; whose great pre|rogative it is to disdain all measure. O! bless us, in proportion to that grace, the richness of which (unutter|able by the tongues of men, and of angels) was once spoken in the groans, and written in the wounds of thy expiring Son!

Spacious indeed are these heavens! Where do they begin? Where do they end? What is their extent? Can angels answer my question? Have angels travelled the

vast circuit? Can angels measure the bounds of space? No; 'tis boundless, 'tis unknown, 'tis amazing all.—How charming then to reflect, that the mercy of GOD is "greater than the heavens;" is more extensive than the dimensions of the sky. Transporting reflection! let me indulge thee once more.* 1.72 Let me think over the delightful displays of this lovely attribute; and, while I admire the trophies of forgiving goodness, add one to the number.—With what amiable and affecting colours, is this represented in the parable of the prodigal! What could induce that foolish youth to forsake his fa|ther's house? Had he not been tenderly cherished by the good parent, and loaded with benefits from his in|dulgent hand? Were not the restraints of parental gov|ernment an easy yoke; or rather a preservative from ruin? Notwithstanding every endearing obligation, he revolts from his duty, and launches into such scandalous irregularities, as were dishonourable to his family, and destructive to himself.—When necessity, not choice, but sharp necessity drove him to a submissive return, does the injured father stand aloof, or shut his doors? Quite the reverse. He espies him, while he is yet a great way off; and the moment he beholds the profligate youth, he has compassion on him. His bowels yearn; they "sound like an harp," touched with notes divinely soft. He never once thinks of his ungracious departure, and infamous debaucheries. Pity, parental pity, passes an act of oblivion; and, in one instant, cancels a series of long continued provocations.—So strong are the work|ings of fatherly affection, that he is almost impatient to embrace the naked and destitute wretch. The son's pace is slow, he arose and came; the father's is swift,

he sprung forth (aged as he was) and ran. And is there a single frown in his brow, or one upbraiding word on his tongue?—Instead of loathing the sordid creature, or reproaching him for his odious excesses, he falls on his neck, clasps him in his arms, and hugs him to his bosom. Instead of disowning the riotous spendthrift, or rejecting him for his undutiful behaviour, he receives and welcomes him with kisses of delight. He rejoices at his return from extravagance and vice, as he form|erly rejoiced on the day of his nativity.—When this companion of harlots opens his mouth, before he speaks, the father hears. He interrupts him in the midst of his intended speech. The overflowings of his compassion|ate heart can brook no delay. He seems to be uneasy himself, till he has made the afflicted penitent glad with the assurance of his acceptance, and the choicest of his favours.—While the poor abashed offender seeks noth|ing more than not to be abhorred, he is thoroughly rec|onciled, and honoured before the whole family. While he requests no other indulgence, than only to be treated as the meanest servant, he is clothed with the best robe; he is feasted with the fatted calf; he is caressed as the dearest of children.—Was there ever so bright and win|ning a picture of the tenderest mercy, most freely vouch|safed, even to the most unworthy of creatures? Yet thus, my soul, and thus, my fellow sinner, will the LORD GOD of everlasting compassions receive us, if, sensible of our misery, and thirsting for salvation, we turn to him through JESUS CHRIST.

Where sin has abounded, says the proclamation from the court of Heaven, grace doth much more abound.—Manasseh was a monster of barbarity; for he caused his own children to pass through the fire, and filled Je|rusalem with innocent blood. Manasseh was an adept in iniquity; for he not only multiplied, and to an extrava|gant degree, his own sacrilegious impieties, but he poisoned the principles, and perverted the manners of his subjects, making them to do worse than the most detestable of the heathen idolaters.* 1.73 Yet, through this super-abundant grace, he is humbled; he is reformed; and

becomes a child of forgiving love, an heir of immortal glory.—Behold that bitter and bloody persecutor Saul, when breathing out threatenings,* 1.74 and bent upon slaughter, he worried the Lamb, and put to death the disciples of JESUS. Who, upon the principles of hu|man judgment, would not have pronounced him a vessel of wrath, destined to unavoidable damnation? Nay, would not have been ready to conclude, that if there were heavier chains, and a deeper dungeon in the world of woe, they must surely be reserved for such an impla|cable enemy of true godliness? Yet (admire and adore the inexhaustible treasures of grace!) this Saul is ad|mitted into the the goodly fellowship of the prophets; is numbered with the noble army of martyrs; and makes a distinguished figure among the glorious company of the apostles.—The Corinthians were flagitious, even to a proverb. Some of them wallowed in such abominable vices, and habituated themselves to such outrageous acts of injustice, as were a reproach to human nature. Yet, even these sons of violence, and slaves of sensuality, "were washed; were sanctified; were justified:" † 1.75 Washed in the precious blood of a dying Redeemer; sanctified by the powerful operations of the Blessed Spi|rit; justified through the infinitely tender mercies of a

gracious GOD. Those who were once the burden of the earth, are now the joy of Heaven, and the delight of angels.

There is another instance in scripture, which most loudly publishes that sweetest of the divine names, The LORD, the LORD GOD, merciful and gracious long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin.* 1.76 An instance this, which exceeds all the former; which exceeds whatever can be imagined; which if I was to forget, the very stones might cry out, and sound it in my ears: I mean the case of those sinners, who mur|dered the Prince of Peace, and LORD of glory.—These men could scarce have the shadow of an excuse for their crime; hardly a circumstance to extenuate their guilt. They were well acquainted with his exemplary conversa|tion; they had often heard his heavenly doctrines; they were almost daily spectators of his unequalled miracles. They therefore had all possible reason to honour him, as the most illustrious of beings; and to receive his Gospel, as the most inestimable of blessings. Yet, notwithstand|ing all these engaging motives to love him, even above their own lives, they seize his person; asperse his char|acter; drag him before a heathen tribunal; and extort a sentence of death against innocence and holiness it|self. Never was the vilest slave so contumeliously abus|ed; nor the most execrable mal••factor so barbarouly ex|ecuted. The sun was confounded at the shocking scene; and one cannot but wonder, how the avenging light|nings could withhold their flashes. The earth trembled at the horrid deed; and why, why did it not cleave asun|der, and open a passage for such bloodthirsty miscreants into the nethermost Hell? Shall these ever hope to obtain forgiveness from the righteous Judge? Shall not these be consigned over to inexorable wrath, and the severest torments?—O the miraculous effects of divine grace! O the triumphant goodness of GOD our Saviour! Many, even of these impious wretches, at the descent of the Holy Ghost, were convinced of their miserable state; were wounded with penitential remorse; fled to the

sanctuary of the cross; had their pardon ratified by the baptismal seal; and, continuing in the apostles' doctrine, were made partakers of the kingdom of Heaven: Where they now shine, as so many everlasting monu|ments of most distinguished mercy; and receive beatitude past utterance, from that very Redeemer, who once "with wicked hands they crucified and slew."

Well might the prophet cry out, with a pleasing a|mazement,

Who is a GOD like unto thee, that par|doneth iniquity, and passeth by transgression!

* 1.77— Let all flesh know assuredly; let all flesh rejoice greatly; that with the LORD there is such mercy, and with his CHRIST such plentiful redemption—And O! for the voice of an archangel, to circulate the glad tidings through the universe; that the American savage, as well as the European sage, may learn the exceeding riches of grace in Christ: Through whose infinite satisfying propitiation, all manner of sin, barbarity and blasphemy, are freely forgiven unto men.

What a grand and majestick dome is the sky! Where are the pillars which support the stately concave? What art, most exactly true, balanced the pressure? What props of insuperable strength sustain the weight? How is that immeasurable arch upheld, unshaken and unimpaired, while so many generations of busy mor|tals have sunk, and disappeared, as bubbles upon the stream?—If those stars are of such an amazing bulk, how are they also fastened in their lofty situation? By what miracle in mechanicks, are so many thousands of ponderous orbs kept from falling upon our heads! kept from dashing, both the world to pieces, and its inhabitants to death? Are they hung in golden or ada|mantine chains? Rest they their enormous▪ load on rocks of marble, or columns of brass?—No; they are pendulous in fluid ether; yet are more immoveably fixed, than if the everlasting mountains lent their forests for an axletree, or their ridges for a basis. The Al|mighty Architect stretches out the north, and its whole starry train, over the empty place. He hangs the earth, and all the etherial globes, upon nothing.† 1.78 Yet are their

foundations laid so sure, that they can "never be moved at any time."

No unfit representation, to the sincere christian, of his final perseverance;* 1.79 such as points out the cause

which effects it, and constitutes the pledge which ascer|tains it.—His nature is all enfeebled. He is not able, of himself, to think a good thought. He has no visible safeguard, nor any sufficiency of his own. And yet whole legions of formidable enemies are in a confede|racy to compass his ruin. The world lays unnumbered snares for his feet: The devil is incessantly urging the siege, by a multitude of fiery darts, or wily tempta|tions: The flesh, like a perfidious inmate, under colour of friendship, and a specious pretence of pleasure, is al|ways forward to betray his integrity.—But, amidst all these threatening circumstances, of personal weakness, and imminent danger, an invisible aid is his defence. "I will uphold thee," says the blessed GOD,

with the right hand of my righteousness.

* 1.80 Comfortable truth! the arm, which fixes the stars in their order, and guides the planets in their course, is stretched out to preserve the heirs of salvation. "—My sheep," adds the great Redeemer,

are mine; and they shall never perish; neither shall any pluck them out of my hand.

† 1.81 What words are these! and did they come from HIM, who hath all power in Heaven, and on earth! and were they spoke to the weakest of the flock; to every unfeigned follower of the great Shepherd? Then omnipotence itself must be vanquished, before they can be destroyed, either by the seductions of fraud, or the assaults of vio|lence.

If you ask therefore, what security we have of en|during to the end, and continuing faithful unto death? —The very same that establishes the heavens, and settles the ordinances of the universe. Can these be thrown into confusion? ‡ 1.82 Then may the true believer draw back unto perdition. Can the sun be dislodged from his sphere, and rush lawlessly through the sky? Then, and then only, can the faith of GOD's elect ‖ 1.83 be finally

overthrown.—Be of good courage then, my soul; rely on those divine succours which are so solemnly stipu|lated, so faithfully promised. Though thy grace be lan|guid as the glimmering spark; though the overflow|ings of corruption threaten it with total extinction; yet, since the great JEHOVAH has undertaken to cher|ish the dim principle,

many waters cannot quench it, nor all floods drown it.

Nay, though it were feeble as the smoking flax, * 1.84 goodness and faithfulness stand en|gaged to augment the heat; to raise the fire, and feed the flame; till it beam forth, a lamp of immortal glory, in the heavens.

As to the faithfulness of a covenanting GOD, this may be emblematically seen, in the stability of the heav|enly bodies, and the perpetuity of their motions. † 1.85— Those that are fixed or stationary, continue unalterable in their grand elevations. No injurious shocks, no vio|lence of conflicting elements, are able to displace those everlasting hinges, on which dependent worlds revolve. Through the whole flight of time, they recede not, so much as a hair's breadth, from the precise central point of their respective systems.—While the erratick, or plan|etary, perform their prodigious stages, without any in|termission,

or the least embarrassment. How soon, and how easily is the most finished piece of human machine|ry disconcerted! But all the celestial movements are so nicely adjusted; all their operations so critically pro|portioned; and their mutual dependencies so strongly connected, that they prolong their beneficial courses, throughout all ages.—While mighty cities are overwhelm|ed with ruin, and their very names lost in oblivion: While vast empires are swept from their foundations, and leave not so much as a shadowy trace of their ancient magnificence: While all terrestrial things are subject to vicissitude, and fluctuating in uncertainty: These are permanent in their duration: These are invariable in their functions: "Not one faileth."—Who doubts the constant succession of day and night, or the regular returns of summer and winter? And why, O! why shall we doubt the veracity of GOD, or distrust the ac|complishment of his holy word? Can the ordinances of Heaven depart? Then only can GOD forget to be gra|cious, or neglect the performance of his promise.—Nay, our LORD gives us yet firmer ground of affiance. He affords us a surer bottom for our faith, than the funda|mental laws of the universe. Heaven and earth, he says, shall pass away; but my words shall not, in a single in|stance, or in one tittle of their import, pass away. No; his sacred word, whatever may obstruct it, whoever may oppose it, shall be fulfilled to the very uttermost.

O powerful word! How astonishing is its efficacy! When this word was issued forth, a thousand worlds emerged out of nothing. Should the mighty orders be repeated, a thousand more would spring into existence. By this word, the vast system of created things is up|held, in constant and immutable perfection. Should it give command, or cease to exert its energy, the uni|versal frame would be dissolved, and all nature revert to her original chaos. And this very word is pledged for the safety, the comfort, the happiness of the godly. This inviolable, this almighty word, speaks in all the promises of the Gospel.—How strangely infatuated are our souls, that we should value it so little! What infi|dels are we in fact, that we should depend upon it no more! Did it create whatever has a being; and shall it

not work faith in our breasts? Do unnumbered worlds owe their support to this word; and shall it not be suf|ficient to buoy up our souls in troubles, or establish them in trials? Is it the life of the universe, and shall it be a dead letter to mankind?

If I wish to be heard when I implore heavenly bless|ings, is not this privilege most clearly made over to my enjoyment in that well known text,

Ask, and it shall be given you?

* 1.86—If I long for the eternal Comforter to dwell in my heart, and sanctify my na|ture, have I not an apparent title to this high prerogative, conferred in that sweet assertive interrogation,

How much more shall your heavenly Father give the holy Spirit to those that ask him?

† 1.87—If I earnestly covet the inestimable treasures that are comprised in the great IMMANUEL's mediation, can I have a firmer claim to the noble portion, than is granted in that most precious scripture;

Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out?

‡ 1.88—What an assurance of being interested in these unspeakable mercies would I desire? What form of conveyance, what deed of settlement, were it left to my own option, should I choose? Here is the word of a King; the King immortal and invisible; all whose declarations ‖ 1.89 are truth itself.—If a monarch be|stow immunities on a body of men, and confirm them by an authentick charter, no one controverts, no one questions, their ••ight to the royal favours. And why should we suspect the validity of those glorious grants, which are made by the everlasting Sovereign of Nature; which he has also ratified by an oath, and sealed with the blood of his Son?—Corporations may be disfranchised, and charters revoked. Even mountains may be remov|ed, and stars drop from their spheres: But a tenure founded on the divine promise, is unalienably secure; is lasting as eternity itself.

We have endeavoured to spell a syllable of the Eternal Name, in the ancient manuscript of the sky. We have

catched a glimpse of the Almighty's glory, from the lustre of innumerable stars. But would we behold all his excellencies portrayed in full perfection, and drawn to the very life, let us attentively consider the REDEEMER.—I observe there are some parts of the firmament, in which the stars seem, as it were, to cluster. They are sown thicker, they lie closer than usual, and strike the eye with redoubled splendour. Like the jew|els on a crown, they mingle their beams, and reflect an increase of brilliancy on each other.—Is there not such an assemblage, such a constellation of the divine honours, most amiably effulgent in the blessed JESUS?

Does not infinite wisdom * 1.90 shine, with surpassing brigthness, in CHRIST? To the making of a world, there was no obstacle; but to the saving of man, there seemed to be unsurmountable bars. If the rebel is suf|fered to escape, where is the inflexible justice which de|nounces "death as the wages of sin?" If the offender is thoroughly pardoned, where is the inviolable veracity which has solemnly declared,

the soul that sinneth, shall die?

These awful attributes are set in terrible array, and, like an impenetrable battalion, oppose the salvation of apostate mankind. Who can suggest a method to absolve the traiterous race; yet vindicate the honours of almighty sovereignty? This is an intricacy, which the most exalted of finite intelligences are un|able to clear.—But behold the unsearchable secret re|vealed! revealed in the wonderful redemption, accom|plished by a dying Saviour! So plainly revealed, that "he who runs may read;" and even babes understand what minds of the deepest penetration could not con|trive.—The Son of GOD, taking our nature, obeys the law, and undergoes death in our stead. By this means, the threatened curse is executed in all its rigour, and free grace is exercised in all its riches. Justice maintains her rights, and, with a steady hand, administers im|partial vengeance; while mercy dispenses her pardons, and welcomes the repentant criminal into the tenderest embraces. Hereby the seemingly thwarting attributes are reconciled. The sinner is saved, not only in full

consistence with the honour of the supreme perfections, but to the most illustrious manifestation of them all.

Where does the divine power * 1.91 so signally exert it|self, as in the cross of CHRIST, and in the conquest of grace?—Our LORD, in his lowest state of humili|ation, gained a more glorious victory, than when, through the dividing sea, and the waste howling wil|derness,

he rode upon his chariots and horses of salvation.

When his hands were riveted with irons to the bloody tree, he disarmed death of its sting, and plucked the prey from the jaws of Hell. Then, even then, while he was crucified in weakness, he van|quished the strong man, and subdued our most formida|ble enemies. Even then, he spoiled principalities, tri|umphed over the powers of darkness, and led captivity captive.—Now he is exalted to his heavenly throne, with what a prevailing efficacy does his grace go forth, "conquering, and to conquer!"—By this, the slaves of sin are rescued from their bondage, and restored to the liberty of righteousness. By this, depraved wretches, whose appetites were sensual, and their dispositions dev|ilish, are not only renewed, but renewed after the image of GOD, and made partakers of a divine nature. Mill|ions, millions of lost creatures are snatched, by the in|terposition of grace, like brands from the burning, and translated into everlasting mansions, shine brighter than the stars, shine bright as the sun, in the kingdom of their Father.

Would you then see an incomparably more bright display of the divine excellence, than the unspotted firmament, the spangles of heaven, of the golden fountain of day exhibit, contemplate JESUS of Naz|areth. He is the brightness of his Father's glory, and the express image of his person. In his immaculate nature, in his heavenly temper, in his most holy life, the moral perfections of the Deity are represented

to the highest advantage.* 1.92—Hark! how mercy, with her charming voice, speaks in all he utters. See! how benevolence pours her choicest stores in all he does. Did ever compassion look so amiably soft, as in those pitying tears which swelled his eyes, and trickled down his che••ks, to bedew the rancour of his inveterate enemies? —Was it possible for patience to assume a form so love|ly, as that sweetly winning conduct, which bore the con|tradiction of sinners? Which entreated the obstinate to be reconciled; besought the guilty not to die?—In other things, we may find some scattered rays of JEHOVAH's glory; but in CHRIST they are all collected and united. In CHRIST they beam forth with the strongest radiance, with the most delightful effulgence. Out of Sion, and in Sion's great Redeemer, hath GOD appeared in perfect beauty.

Search then, my soul, above all other pursuits, search the records of redeeming love. Let these be the principal objects of thy study. Here employ thyself with the most unwearied assiduity.—In these are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.† 1.93 Such wisdom, as charms and astonishes the very angels; engages their closest attention, and fills them with the deepest adora|tion.‡ 1.94 Such knowledge, as qualifies the possessor, if not for offices of dignity on earth, yet for the most honour|able

advancements in the kingdom of Heaven. Dis|united from which knowledge, all application is but elaborate impertinence; and all science, no better than pompous ignorance.—These records contain the faultless model of duty, and the noblest motives to obedience. Nothing so powerful to work a lively faith, and a joyful hope, as an attentive consideration of our LORD's unut|terable merits. Nothing so sovereign to antidote the pestilential influence of the world, and deliver our affec|tions from a slavery to ignoble objects, as an habitual remembrance of his extreme agonies. The genuine, the ever fruitful source of all morality, is the unfeigned love of CHRIST; and the cross, the cross is the ap|pointed * 1.95 altar, from which we may fetch a coal, † 1.96 to enkindle this sacred fire.

Behold, therefore, the man; the matchless and stu|pendous man; whose practice was a pattern of the most exalted virtue, and his person the mirror of every divine perfection. Examine the memoirs of his heav|enly temper, and exemplary conversation. Contemplate that choir of graces which were associated in his mind, and shed the highest lustre on all his actions. Familiar|ize to thy thoughts his instructive discourses, and enter into the very spirit of his refined doctrines; that the graces may be transfused into thy breast, and the doc|trines transcribed in thy life.—Follow him to Calvary's horrid eminence; to Calvary's fatal catastrophe; where innocence, dignity, and merit, were made perfect through

sufferings; each shining, with all possible splendour, through the tragical scene; somewhat like his own radiant bow, then glowing with the greatest beauty, when appearing on the darkest cloud.—Be thy most con|stant attention fixed on that lovely and sorrowful spec|tacle. Behold the spotless victim nailed to the tree, and stabbed to the heart. Hear him pouring out prayers for his murderers, before he poured out his soul for transgressors. See the wounds that stream with for|giveness, and bleed balm for a distempered world. O! see the justice of the Almighty and his goodness; his mercy and his vengeance; every tremendous and gracious attribute manifested, manifested with inexpressible glory, in that most ignominious, yet grandest of transactions.

Since God is so inconceivably great, as these his mar|vellous works declare:

Since the great Sov'reign sends ten thousand worlds, To tell us, he resides above them all, In glory's unapproachable recess—* 1.97

how can we forbear hastening with Moses, bowing our|selves to the earth, and worshipping?

O! what an honourable, as well as advantageous em|ploy, is prayer!—Advantageous. By prayer, we culti|vate that improving correspondence with JEHOVAH; we carry on that gladdening intercourse with his SPIR|IT, which must begin here, in order to be completed in eternity.—Honourable. By prayer we have access to that mighty Potentate, whose sceptre sways universal

nature, and whose rich regalia fill the skies with lus|tre. Prayer places us in his presence chamber; while "the blood of sprinkling" procures us a gracious au|dience.

Shall I then blush to be found prostrate before the throne of grace? Shall I be ashamed to have it known, that I offer up social supplications in the family, or am conscientious in observing my private retirements? Rather let me glory in this unspeakable privilege. Let me reckon it the noblest posture, to fall low on my knees before his footstool; and the highest honour, to enjoy communion with his most exalted Majesty.—Incompa|rably more noble, than to sit in person, on the triumphal chariot, or to stand in effigy, amidst the temple of worthies.

Most inestimable, in such a view, is that promise, which so often occurs in the prophetick writings, and is the crowning benefit of the new covenant, I will be thy God.* 1.98—Will this Supremely excellent, and Almighty Being vouchsafe to be my portion? to settle upon a poor sinner, not the heritage of a country, not the possession of the whole earth, but his own ever blessed self? May I then, through his free condescending grace, and the unknown merits of his Son, look upon all these infinitely noble attributes as my treasure? May I regard the wisdom, which superintends such a multitude of worlds, as my guide; the power which produced, and preserves them in existence, as my guard; the goodness which, by an endless communication of favours, ren|ders them all so many habitations of happiness, as my exceeding great reward?—What a fund of felicity is included in such a blessing! How often does the Israel|itish prince exult in the assurance, that this unutterable and boundless good is his own? Interested in this, he bids defiance to every evil that can be dreaded, and rests in certain expectation of every blessing that can be desired. The LORD is my light, and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? The LORD (with an air of exultation, he repeats both his affiance, and his challenge) is the strength of my life; of whom then shall

I be afraid? * 1.99 Nothing so effectual as this appropriating faith, to inspire a dignity of mind superiour to transi|tory trifles; or to create a calmness of temper, un|alarmed by vulgar fears, unappalled by death itself.— The LORD is my shepherd, says the same truly gallant and heroick personage; therefore shall I lack nothing.† 1.100 How is it possible he should suffer want, who has the allsufficient fulness for his supply? So long as unerring wisdom is capable of contriving the means; so long as uncontrollable power is able to execute them; such a one cannot fail of being safe and happy; whether he continue amidst the vicissitudes of time, or depart into the unchangeable eternity.

Here let us stand a moment, and humbly contem|plate this great GOD, together with ourselves, in a rela|tive view.—If we reflect on the works of material na|ture, their number incomprehensible, and their extent unmeasurable; each of them apart, so admirably fram|ed; the connexions of the whole so exquisitely regu|lated, and all derived from one and the same glorious Agent.—If we recollect the far more noble accomplish|ments of elegant taste, and discerning judgment; of re|fined affections, and exalted sentiments, which are to be found among the several orders of intelligent exist|ence; and all of them flowing in rich emanations from the one sole Fountain of intellectual light:—If we far|ther consider this Author of material beauty, and moral excellency, as a guardian, a governour, and benefactor to all his creatures; supporting the whole system, and protecting each individual, by an ever watchful provi|dence; presiding over the minutest affairs, and causing all events to terminate in the most extensive good; heap|ing, with unremitted liberality, his benefits upon every capable object, and making the circuit of the universe a seminary of happiness:—Is it possible for the human heart, under such captivating views, to be indifferent to|wards this most benign, most bountiful Original of be|ing and of bliss? Can any be so immersed in stupidity, as to say unto the Almighty—in the language of an irrelig|ious temper, and licentious life, to say,

Depart from

us; we implore not thy favour, nor desire the knowl|edge of thy ways?

—Wonder, O heavens! be amazed, O earth! and let the inhabitants of both express their astonishment at this unparalleled complication of disin|genuous, ungrateful, destructive perverseness!

If we consider our fallen and imperfect state; frail in our bodies, enfeebled in our minds, in every part of our constitution, and in all the occurrences of life, "like a tottering wall, or a broken hedge."—If we survey our indigent and infirm state, without holiness, without spiritual strength; our possession of present con|veniences, entirely dependent on GOD's sovereign pleas|ure; yea, forfeited, justly forfeited, with every future hope, by a thousand aggravated iniquities.—If we add the various disasters of our condition; agitated as we are by tumultuous passions; oppressed with dispiriting fears; held in suspense by a variety of perplexing * 1.101 cares; liable to pains, and exposed to troubles; troub|les from every quarter; troubles of every kind:—Can we, amidst so many wants, under such deplorable infirm|ities, and subject to such disastrous accidents—can we be unconcerned, whether GOD's omnipotent, irresistible, all conducting hand be against us, or for us? Imagina|tion itself shudders at the thought!—Can we rest satis|fied, without a well grounded persuasion, that we are reconciled to this supreme LORD, and the object of his unchangeable goodness?—If there be an abandoned

wretch, whose apprehensions are so fatally blinded; who is so utterly lost to all sense of his duty and of his in|terest; let me bewail his misery, while I abhor his im|piety. Bewail his misery; though popularity, with her choicest laurels, adorn his brow; though affluence, with her richest delicacies, load his table; though half a nation, or half a world, conspire to call him happy.

May I, by a believing application, solace myself in this everlasting source of love, perfection, and joy! Grant me this request, and I ask no more.—Only that I may expect, not with a reluctant anxiety, but with a ready cheerfulness, the arrival of that important hour, when this veil of flesh shall drop, and the shadows of mortality flee away. When I shall no longer complain of obscure knowledge, languid affections, and imperfect fruition—but shall see the uncreated and immortal Maj|esty. See him, not in this distant and unaffecting meth|od of reasoning from his works; but with the most clear and direct intuition of the mind.—When I shall love him, not with a cold and contracted spirit; but with the most lively and enlarged emotions of gratitude. —When I shall incessantly enjoy the light of his coun|tenance; and be united, inseparably united to his all glorious GODHEAD.—Take, ye ambitious, unenvied and unopposed, take to yourselves the toys of state. May I be enabled to rejoice in this blessed hope; and to tri|umph in that amiable, that adorable, that delightful name, the LORD MY GOD! And I shall scarce be|stow a thought, on the splendid pageantry of the world, unless it be to despise its empty pomp, and to pity its de|luded admirers.

All these bodies, though immense in their size, and almost infinite in their multitude, are obedient to the di|vine command. The GOD of wisdom

telleth their numbers,

and is intimately acquainted with their va|rious properties. The GOD of power

calleth them all by their names,

and assigns them whatsoever office he pleases.—He marshals all the starry legions with infinitely greater ease, and nicer order, than the most expert general arranges his disciplined troops. He appoints their posts; he marks their route; he fixes

the time for their return. The posts which he appoints, they occupy without fail. In the route which he set|tles, they persevere, without the least deviation. And to the instant* 1.102 which he fixes for their return, they are precisely punctual.—He has given them a law, which, through a long revolution of ages, shall not be broken, unless his sovereign will interposes for its repeal. Then indeed the motion of the celestial orbs is controlled; their action remains suspended; or their influence re|ceives a new direction.—The sun, at his creation, issued forth with a command to travel perpetually through the heavens. Since which, he has never neglected to per|form the great circuit, rejoicing as a giant to

run his race.

But, when it is requisite to accomplish the purposes of divine love, the orders are counter|manded; the flaming courier remits his career; stands still in Gibeon; † 1.103 and, for the conveniency of the chosen people, holds back the falling day.—The moon was dispatched, with a charge never to intermit her revolv|ing course, till day and night come to an end. But when the children of Providence are to be favoured with an uncommon continuance of light, she halts in her march; makes a solemn pause in the valley of Ajalon; ‡ 1.104 and delays to bring on her attendant train of shadows. —When the enemies of the LORD are to be discomfited, the stars are levied into the service; the stars are armed

and take the field; the stars, in their courses, fought a|gainst Sisera. * 1.105

So dutiful is material nature! So obsequious, in all her forms, to her Creator's pleasure!—The bellowing thunders listen to his voice; and the vollied lightnings observe the direction of his eye. The flying storm, and impetuous whirlwind, wear his yoke. The raging waves revere his nod; they shake the earth; they dash the skies; yet never offer to pass the limits which he has prescribed.—Even the planetary spheres, though vastly larger than this wide extended earth, are in his hand, as clay in the hands of a potter. Though, swifter than the northern blast, they sweep the long tracts of ether; yet are they guided by his reins, and execute whatever he enjoins.—All those enormous globes of central fire, which beam through the boundless azure, in comparison of which, an army of planets, were like a swarm of summer insects; those, even those, are con|formable to his will, as the melting wax to the impressed seal.—Since all, ALL is obedient, throughout the whole ascent of things, shall man be the only rebel against the Almighty Maker? Shall these unruly appetites, reject his government, and refuse their allegiance? Shall these headstrong passions, break loose from divine restraint, and run wild, in exorbitant sallies, after their own im|aginations?

O my soul, be stung with remorse, and overwhelm|ed with confusion, at the thought! Is it not a right|eous

thing, that the blessed GOD should sway the scep|tre, with the most absolute authority, over all the crea|tures which his power has formed? especially over those creatures, whom his distinguishing favour has endued with the noble principle of reason, and made capable of a blissful immortality? Sure, if all the ranks of in|animate existence conform to their Maker's decree, by the necessity of their nature, this more excellent race of beings, should pay their equal homage, by the willing compliance of their affections.* 1.106—Come then, all ye faculties of my mind; come all ye powers of my body; give up yourselves, without a moment's delay, without the least reserve, to his governance. Stand, like dutiful servants, at his footstool; in an everlasting readiness, to do whatsoever he requires; to be whatsoever he ap|points; to further, with united efforts, the purposes of his glory in this earthly scene; or else to separate, without reluctance, at his summons; the one, to sleep in the silent dust; the other, to advance his honour, in some remoter colony of his kingdom.—Thus may I join with all the works of the LORD, in all places of his dominion, to recognize his unversal supremacy; and proclaim him Sovereign of souls, as well as Ruler of worlds.

At my first coming abroad, all these luminaries were eclipsed by the overpowering lustre of the sun. They were all placed in the very same stations, and played the same sprightly beams, yet not one of them was seen. As the daylight wore away, and the sober shades advanced, Hesperus, who leads the starry train, disclosed his radi|ant forehead, and catched my eye. While I stood gaz|ing on his bright and beautiful aspect, several of his at|tendants peeped through the blue curtains. Scarce had I turned to observe these fresh emanations of splendour, but others dropt the veil; others stole into view. When lo! faster and more numerous, multitudes sprung from obscurity; they poured in shining troops, and in sweet confusion, over all the empyrean plain; till the firma|ment seemed like one vast constellation, and

a flood of glory burst from all the skies.

Is not such the rise, and such the progress of a true conversion, in the prejudiced infidel, or inattentive sin|ner? During the period of his vainer years, a thousand interesting truths lay utterly undiscovered; a thousand momentous concerns were entirely disregarded. But when divine grace dissipates the delusive glitter which dazzled his understanding, and beguiled his affections; then he begins to discern, dimly to discern the things which belong unto his peace. Some admonition of scripture darts conviction into his soul, as the glim|mering of a star pierces the gloom of night.—Then, perhaps, another awful, or cheering text, impresses ter|rour, or diffuses comfort. A threatening alarms his fears, or a promise awakens his hopes. This, possibly, is suc|ceeded by some afflictive dispensation of Providence, and improved by some edifying and instructive conversa|tion: All which is established as to its continuance, and enlarged as to its influence, by a diligent study of the sacred word.—By this means, new truths con|tinually pour their evidence. Scenes of refined and ex|alted, but hitherto unknown delight, address him with their attractives: New desires take wing; new pur|suits are set on foot: A new turn of mind forms his temper; a new habit of conversation regulates his life. In a word, old things are passed away, and all things become new. He who was sometimes darkness, is now light, and life, and joy in the LORD.

The more attentively I view the crystal concave, the more fully I discern the richness of its decorations. Abundance of minuter lights, which lay concealed from a superficial notice, are visible on a closer examination; especially in those tracts of the sky, which are called the galaxy, and are distinguishable by a sort of milky path. There the stars are crowded, rather than dissem|inated. The region seems to be all on a blaze, with their blended rays.—Besides this vast profusion which, in my present situation, the eye discovers; was I to make my survey from any other part of the globe, lying nearer the southern pole, I should behold a new choir of starry bodies, which have never appeared within our horizon.—Was I (which is still more wonderful) either here or there, to view the firmament with the virtuoso's glass, I should find a prodigious multitude of flaming orbs, which, immersed in depths of ether, escape the keenest unassisted sight.* 1.107—Yet in these various situ|ations, even with the aid of the telescopick tube, I should not be able to descry the half, perhaps not a thou|sandth part, of those majestick luminaries which the vast expansive heavens contain.† 1.108—So, the more diligently I pursue my search into those oracles of eternal truth, the scriptures, I perceive a wider, a deeper, an ever in|creasing fund of spiritual treasures. I perceive the brighter strokes of wisdom, and the richer displays of goodness; a more transcendent excellency in the illus|trious Messiah, and a more deplorable vileness in fallen

man; a more immaculate purity in GOD's law, and more precious privileges in his Gospel. Yet, after a course of study ever so assiduous, ever so prolonged, I should have reason to own myself a mere babe in heav|enly knowledge; or, at most, but a puerile proficient, in the school of CHRIST.

After all my most accurate inspection, those starry orbs appear but as glittering points. Even the planets, though so much nearer our earthly mansion, seem only like burning bullets. If then, we have such imperfect apprehensions of visible and material things, how much more scanty and inadequate must be our notions of in|visible and immortal objects!—We behold the stars. Though every one is incomparably bigger than the globe we inhabit, yet they dwindle, upon our survey, into the most diminutive forms. Thus, we see by faith the glories of the blessed JESUS, the atoning efficacy of his death, the justifying merit of his righteousness, and the joys which are reserved for his followers. But alas! even our most exalted ideas are vastly below the truth: As much below the truth, as the report which our eyes make of those celestial edifices, is inferiour to their real grandeur.—Should we take in all the magnify|ing assistances which art has contrived, those luminous bodies would elude our skill, and appear as small as ever. Should an inhabitant of earth travel towards the cope of Heaven, and be carried forwards in his aërial journey, more than a hundred and sixty millions of miles; * 1.109 even in that advanced situation, those oceans of flame would look no larger than radiant specks.— In like manner, conceive ever so magnificently of the Redeemer's honours, and of the bliss which he has purchased for his people, yet you will fall short. Raise your imagination higher; stretch your invention wider; give them all the scope which a soaring and excursive fancy can take; still your conceptions will be extreme|ly

disproportionate to their genuine perfections.—Vast are the bodies which roll in the expanse of heaven: Vaster far are those fields of ether, through which they run their endless round: But the excellency of JESUS, and the happiness laid up for his servants, are greater than either—than both—than all. An inspired writer calls the former, "the unsearchable riches of CHRIST;" and styles the latter,

an exceeding great and eternal weight of glory.

If those stars are so many inexhaustible magazines of fire, and immense reservoirs of light, there is no reason to doubt, but they have some very grand uses, suitable to the magnificence of their nature. To specify, or ex|plain the particular purposes they answer, is altogether impossible in our present state of distance and igno|rance. This, however, we may clearly discern; they are disposed in that very manner, which is most pleasing and most serviceable to mankind.—They are not placed at an infinite remove, so as to lie beyond our sight; neither are they brought so near our abode, as to annoy us with their beams. We see them shine on every side. The deep azure, which serves them as a ground, height|ens their splendour. At the same time, their influence is gentle, and their rays are destitute of heat. So that we are surrounded with a multitude of fiery globes, which beautify and illuminate the firmament, without any risque, either to the coolness of our night, or the quiet of our repose.—Who can sufficiently admire that wonderous benignity, which, on our account, strews the earth with blessings of every kind, and vouchsafes to make the very heavens subservient to our delight?

It is not solely to adorn the roof of our palace with costly gildings, that GOD commands the celestial lu|minaries to glitter through the gloom. We also reap considerable benefits from their ministry.—They divide our time, and fix its solemn periods. They settle the order of our works, and are, according to the destina|tion mentioned in sacred writ,

for signs, and for sea|sons: for days, and for years.

The returns of heat and cold alone, would have been too precarious a rule. But these radiant bodies, by the variation, and

also by the regularity of their motions, afford a method of calculating, absolutely certain, and sufficiently obvious. By this the farmer is instructed when to commit his grain to the ••urrows, and how to conduct the operations of husbandry. By this the sailor knows when to pro|ceed on his voyage with least peril, and how to carry on the business of navigation with most success.

Why should not the christian, the probationer for eternity, learn from the same monitors, to number—for nobler purposes, to number his days; and duly to transact the grand, grand affairs of his everlasting salvation? Since GOD has appointed so many bright measures of our time, to determine its larger periods, and to min|ute down its ordinary stages, sure, this most strongly inculcates its value, and should powerfully prompt us to improve it.—Behold! the supreme LORD marks the prog|ress of our life, in that most conspicuous calendar a|bove. Does not such an ordination tell us, and in the most emphatical language, that our life is given for use, not for waste? That no portion of it is delivered, but under a strict account; that all of it is entered as it passes, in the divine register; and, therefore, that the stewards of such a talent, are to expect a future reck|oning?—Behold! the very heavens are bidden to be the accomptants of our years, and months, and days. O! may this induce us to manage them with a vigilant frugality; to part with them as misers with their hoarded treasure, warily and circumspectly; and, if possible, as merchants with their rich commodities, not without an equivalent, either in personal improvement, or social usefulness!

How bright the starry diamonds shine? The ambition of eastern monarchs could imagine no distinction more noble and sublime, than that of being likened to those beaming orbs.* 1.110—They form night's richest dress, and sparkle upon her sable robe, like jewels of the finest lustre. Like jewels! I wrong their character. The lucid stone has no brilliancy; quenched is the flame even of the golden topaz, compared with those glowing decorations of Heaven.—How widely are their radiant

honours diffused! No nation so remote, but sees their beauty, and rejoices in their usefulness. They have been admired by all preceding generations; and every rising age will gaze on their charms, with renewed delight. —How animating then, is that promise, made to the faithful ministers of the Gospel!

They that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars forever and ever.

* 1.111 Is not this a most winning encouragement "to spend and be spent," in the service of souls? Me|thinks the stars beckon as they twinkle. Methinks they shew me their splendours, on purpose to inspire me with alacrity, in the race set before me; on purpose to enliven my activity, in the work that is given me to do. —Yes; ye majestick monitors, I understand your mean|ing. If honour has any charms; if true glory, the glory which cometh from GOD, is any attractive; you display the most powerful incitements to exercise all as|siduity in my holy vocation. I will, henceforth, observe your intimation, and, when zeal becomes languid, have recourse to your heavenly lamps. If so be I may re|kindle its ardour at those inextinguishable fires.

Of the polar star, it is observable, that while other luminaries alter their situation, this seems invariably fix|ed.† 1.112 While other luminaries, now mount the battle|ments of Heaven, and appear upon duty; now retire beneath the horizon, and resign to a fresh set, the watch|es of the night: this never departs from its station; this, in every season, maintains an uniform position; and is always to be found, in the same tract of the northern sky.—How often has this beamed bright in|telligence on the sailor, and conducted the keel to its desired haven! In early ages, those who went down to the sea in ships, and occupied their business in great waters, had scarce any other sure guide for their wan|dering vessel. This therefore they viewed, with the most solicitous attention. By this they formed their ob|servations, and regulated their voyage. When this was

obscured by clouds, or inveloped in mists, the trembling mariner was bewildered on the watery waste. His thoughts fluctuated, as much as the floating surge; and he knew not where he was advanced, or whither he should steer. But, when this auspicious star broke through the gloom, it dissipated the anxiety of his mind, and cleared up his dubious passage. He reassum|ed, with alacrity, the management of the helm, and was able to shape his course, with some tolerable de|gree of satisfaction and certainty.

Such, only much clearer in its light, and much sur|er in its direction, is the holy wo••d of GOD, to those myriads of intellectual beings, who are bound for the eternal shores; who, embarked in a vessel of feeble flesh, are to pass the waves of this tempestuous and per|ilous world. In all difficulties, those sacred pages shed an encouraging ray; in all uncertainties, they suggest the right determination, and point out the proper pro|cedure. What is still a more inestimable advantage, they, like the star which conducted the eastern sages, make plain the way of access to a Redeemer. They dis|play his unspeakable merits; they discover the method of being interested in his great atonement; and lead the weary soul, tossed by troubles, and shattered by tempt|ations, to that only harbour of peaceful repose.—Let us, therefore, attend to this unerring directory, with the same constancy of regard, as the seafaring man observes his compass. Let us become as thoroughly acquainted with this sacred chart, as the pilot is with every trusty mark, that gives notice of a lurking rock; and with every open road, that yields a safe passage into the port. Above all, let us commit ourselves to this infallible guidance with the same implicit resignation; let us con|form our conduct to its exalted precepts, with the same sedulous care, as the children of Israel, when sojourning in the trackless desert, followed the pillar of fire, and the motions of the miraculous cloud.—So will it introduce us, not into an earthly Canaan, flowing with milk and honey, but into an immortal paradise, where is the fulness of joy, and where are pleasures for evermore. It will introduce us into those happy, happy regions, where our sun shall no more go down, nor our moon with|draw

itself; for the LORD shall be our everlasting light, and the days of our mourning, together with the fatigues of our pilgrimage, shall be ended.* 1.113

I perceive a great variety in the size and splendour of those gems of heaven. Some are of the first magni|tude; others of an inferiour order. Some glow with intense flame; others glimmer with fainter beams. Yet all are beautiful; all have their peculiar lustre, and dis|tinct use; all tend, in their different degrees, to enamel the cope of heaven, and embroider the robe of night— This circumstance is remarked by an author, whose sentiments are a source of wisdom, and the very stand|ard of truth.

One star, says the apostle of the Gentiles, differeth from another star in glory: So also is the res|urrection of the dead.

In the world above, are various degrees of happiness, various seats of honour. Some will rise to more illus|trious distinctions, and richer joys.† 1.114 Some, like vessels of ample capacity, will admit more copious accessions of light and excellence. Yet there will be no want, no deficiency, in any; but a fulness, both of divine sat|isfactions, and personal perfections. Each will enjoy all the good, and be adorned with all the glory, that his heart can wish, or his condition receive.—None will know what it is to envy. Not the least malevolence, nor the least selfishness, but everlasting friendship pre|vails, and a mutual complacency in each other's delight. Love, cordial love, will give every particular saint a participation of all the fruitions, ‡ 1.115 which are diffused through the whole assembly of the blessed.—No one eclipses, but each reflects light upon his brother. A sweet interchange of rays subsists; all enlightened by the great fountain, and all enlightening one another. By which reciprocal communication of pleasure and amity, each will be continually receiving from, each incessantly adding to, the general felicity.

Happy, supremely happy they, who are admitted into the celestial mansions. Better to be a door keeper in those "ivory palaces," * 1.116 than to fill the most gorgeous throne on earth. The very lowest place at GOD's right hand, is distinguished honour, and consummate bliss.—O! that we may, in some measure, anticipate that beatifick state, while we remain in our banishment below! May we, by rejoicing in the superiour prosperity of another, make it our own! And, provided the general result is harmony, be content, be pleased with whatso|ever part is assigned to our share, in the universal choir of affairs.

While I am considering the heavenly bodies, I must not entirely forget those fundamental laws of our mod|ern astronomy, projection and attraction. One of which is the all combining cement, the other is the ever ope|rative spring of the mighty frame.—In the beginning, the allcreating FIAT impressed a proper degree of mo|tion on each of those whirling orbs; which, if not controlled, would have carried them on, in strait lines, and to endless lengths, till they were even lost in the abyss of space. But, the gravitating property, being added to the projectile force, determined their courses to a circular † 1.117 form, and obliged the reluctant rovers to perform their destined rounds.—Were either of those causes to suspend their action, all the harmoniously mov|ing spheres would be disconcerted—would degenerate into sluggish inactive masses; and, falling into the central

fire, be burnt to ashes: Or else would exorbitate into wild confusion; and each, by the rapidity of its whirl, be dissipated into atoms. But, the impulsive and attrac|tive energy, being most nicely attempered to each other, and, under the immediate operation of the Almighty, exerting themselves in perpetual concert, the various globes run their radiant races, without the least inter|ruption or the least deviation; so as to create the alter|nate changes of day and night, and distribute the use|ful vicissitudes of succeeding seasons; so as to answer all the great ends of a gracious Providence, and procure every comfortable convenience for universal nature.

Does not this constitution of the material, very nat|urally lead the thoughts to those grand principles of the moral and devotional world, faith and love?— These are often celebrated by the inspired apostle, as a comprehensive summary of the Gospel.* 1.118 These inspirit the breast, and regulate the progress of each private christian. These unite the whole congregation of the faithful to GOD, and one another. To GOD, the great centre, in the bonds of gratitude and devotion; to one another, by a reciprocal intercourse of brotherly affec|tions, and friendly offices.—If you ask, Why is it im|possible for the true believer to live at all adventures? to stagnate in sloth, or habitually to deviate from duty? —We answer, It is owing to

his faith, working by love.

† 1.119 He assuredly trusts, that CHRIST has sustained the infamy, and endured the torment due to his sins. He firmly relies on that divine propitiation, for the pardon of all his guilt; and humbly expects ever|lasting salvation, as the purchase of his Saviour's merits. This produces such a spirit of gratitude, as refines his inclinations, and animates his whole behaviour. He cannot, he cannot run to excess of riot; because love to his adorable Redeemer, like a strong, but silken curb, sweetly restrains him. He cannot, he cannot lie lulled in a lethargick indolence; because love to the same infi|nite Benefactor, like a pungent, but endearing spur, pleasingly excites him.—In a word, faith supplies the powerful impulse, while love gives the determining bias,

and leads the willing feet through the whole circle of GOD's commandments. By the united efficacy of these heavenly graces, the christian conduct is preserved in the uniformity and beauty of holiness; as by the blendid power of those Newtonian principles, the solar system re|volves in a steady and magnificent regularity.

How admirable, how extensive, how diversified is the force of this single principle, attraction! * 1.120—This penetrates the very essence of all bodies, and diffuses it|self to the remotest limits of the mundane system.—By this, the worlds, impressed with motion, hang self bal|anced on their centres; † 1.121 and, though orbs of immense magnitude, require nothing but this amazing property, for their support.—To this we ascribe a phenomenon, of a very different kind, the pressure of the atmos|phere; which, though a yielding and expansive fluid, yet, constipated by an attractive energy, surrounds the whole globe, and incloses every creature, as it were, with a tight bandage. An expedient this, abso|lutely necessary to preserve the texture of our bodies; and indeed, to maintain every species of animal exist|ence.—Attraction! Urged by this wonderful impetus, the rivers circulate, copious and unintermitted, among all the nations of the earth: Sweeping with rapidity down the steeps, or softly ebbing through the plains. Impelled by the same mysterious force, the nutritious juices are detached from the soil; and, ascending the trees, find their way through millions of the finest meanders, in order to transfuse vegetative life into all the branches. —This confines the ocean within proper bounds. Though the waves thereof roar; though they toss themselves with all the madness of indignant rage; yet, checked by this potent, this inevitable curb, they are unable to pass even the slight barrier of sand. To this the moun|tains owe that unshaken firmness, which laughs at the shock of careering winds, and bids the tempest, with all its mingled horrours, impotently rave.—By virtue of this invisible mechanism; without the aid of crane or pulley, or any instrument of human device, many

thousand tons of water are raised, every moment, into the regions of the firmament. By this, they continue suspended in thin air, without any capacious cistern to contain their substance, or any massy pillars to sustain their weight. By this same variously acting power, they return to the place of their native residence; distilled in gentle falls of dew, or precipitated in impetuous show|ers of rain. They slide into the fields in fleecy flights of snow, or are darted upon the houses in clattering storms of hail.—This occasions the strong cohesion of solid bodies. Without which, our large machines could exert themselves with no vigour; and the nicer utensils of life, would elude our expectations of service. This affords a foundation for all those delicate or noble me|chanick arts, which furnish mankind with numberless conveniences, both of ornament and delight.—In short, this is the prodigious ballast, which composes the equilibrium, and constitutes the stability of things: This, the great chain which forms the connexions of universal nature; and the mighty engine which prompts, facilitates, and, in good measure, accomplishes all her operations.—What complicated effects, from a single cause! * 1.122 What profusion, amidst frugality! An un|known profusion of benefits, with the utmost frugality of expense!

And what is this attraction? Is it a quality, in its existence, inseparable from matter▪ and, in its acting, independent on the DEITY!—Quite the reverse. It is the very singer of GOD: The constant impression of divine power: A principle, neither innate in matter, nor intelligible by mortals.—Does it not, however, bear a considerable analogy to the agency of the HOLY GHOST, in the christian economy? Are not the gracious operations of the blessed Spirit, thus extensive, thus admirable, thus various?—That Almighty Being transmits his gifts through every age, and communi|cates his graces to every adherent on the Redeemer. All, either of illustrious memory, or of beneficial ten|dency; in a word,

all the good that is done upon

earth, he doth it himself.

Strong in his aid, and in the power of his might, the saints of all times, have trod vice under their feet; have triumphed over this abject world; and conversed in Heaven, while they dwelt on earth. Not I, but the grace of GOD which was with me,* 1.123 is the unanimous acknowledgment of them all.—By the same kindly succours, the whole church is still en|lightened, quickened, and governed. Through his be|nign influences, the scales of ignorance fall from the un|derstanding; the leprosy of evil concupiscence is purged from the will; and the fetters, the more than adaman|tine fetters of habitual iniquity, drop off from the con|versation. He breathes even upon dry bones,† 1.124 and they live; They are animated with faith; they pant with ar|dent and heavenly desire; they exercise themselves in all the duties of godliness.—His real, though secret in|spiration, dissolves the flint in the impenitent breast, and binds up the sorrows of the broken heart; or raises the thoughts high in the elevations of holy hope; yet lays them low, in the humiliations of inward abase|ment; steels the soul with impenetrable resolution, and persevering fortitude; at the same time, softens it into a dovelike meekness, and melts it in penitential sorrow.

When I contemplate those ample and magnificent structures, erected over all the etherial plains:—When I look upon them as so many splendid repositories of light, or fruitful abodes of life:—When I remember that there may be other orbs, vastly more remote than those which appear to our unaided sight; orbs, whose effulgence, though travelling ever since the creation, is not yet arrived upon our coasts:‡ 1.125—When I stretch my

thoughts to the innumerable orders of being which in|habit all those spacious systems, from the loftiest seraph to the lowest reptile; from the armies of angels which surround the throne of JEHOVAH, to the puny nations which tinge with blue the surface of the plum,* 1.126 or man|tle the standing pool with green:—How various appear the links in this immense chain! How vast the grada|tions in this universal scale of existence! Yet all these, though ever so vast and various, are the works of GOD's hand, and are full of his presence.

He rounded in his palm those dreadful large globes, which are pendulous in the vault of heaven. He kindled those astonishing bright fires, which fill the firmament with a flood of glory. By him they are suspended in fluid ether, and cannot be shaken: By him they dis|pense a perpetual tide of beams, and are never exhausted. —He formed, with inexpressible nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes; that unknown multiplicity of subtle springs, whch organize, and actuate the frame of the minutest insect. He bids the crimson current roll; the vital movements play; and associates a world of wonders, even in an animated point. † 1.127—In all

these is a signal exhibition of creating power; to all these are extended the special regards of preserving goodness. From hence let me learn to rely on the providence, and to revere the presence of the Supreme Majesty.

To rely on his providence.—For, amidst that incon|ceivable number and variety of beings which swarm through the regions of creation, not one is overlooked, not one is neglected by the great Omnipotent Cause of all. However in considerable in its character, or dimin|utive in its size, it is still the production of the univer|sal Maker, and belongs to the family of the Almighty Father.—What though enthroned archangels enjoy the smiles of his countenance! yet the low inhabitants of earth, the most despicable worms of the ground, are not excluded from his providential care. Though the manifestation of his perfections is vouchsafed to holy and intellectual essences; his ear is open to the cries of the young raven; his eye is attentive to the wants, and to the welfare of the very meanest births of na|ture. —How much less then are his own people disre|garded? Those for whom he has delivered his beloved Son to death, and for whom he has prepared habitations of eternal joy. They disregarded! No: THEY are "kept as the apple of an eye." The very hairs of their head are all numbered. The fondest mother may forget her infant, that is "dandled upon her knees," and sucks at her breast, * 1.128 much sooner than the Father

of everlasting compassion can discontinue, or remit, his watchful tenderness to his people—his children—his heirs.

Let this teach me also a more lively sense of the di|vine presence.—All the rolling worlds above, all the liv|ing atoms below, together with all the beings that in|tervene betwixt these wide extremes, are vouchers for an ever present Deity.

GOD has not left himself without witness.

The marks of his footsteps are evident in every place, and the touches of his finger distinguishable in every creature.

Thy name is nigh, O thou allsupporting, allinforming LORD! and that do thy wonderous works declare.* 1.129 Thy goodness warms in the morning sun, and refreshes in the evening

breeze. Thy glory shines in the lamps of midnight, and smiles in the blossoms of spring. We see a trace of thy incomprehensible grandeur in the boundless extent of things, and a sketch of thy exquisite skill in those almost evanescent sparks of life, the insect race.

—How stupid is this heart of mine, that, amidst such a multitude of remembrancers, thronging on every side, I should forget thee a single moment! Grant me, thou great I AM! thou source and support of universal existence!—O grant me an enlightened eye, to discern thee in every object; and a devout heart, to adore thee on every occasion. Instead of living without GOD in the world, may I be ever with him, and see all things full of him!

—The glitt'ring stars, By the deep ear of meditation heard, Still in their midnight watches sing of HIM▪ He nods a calm. The tempest blows his wrath. The thunder is his voice; and the red flash His speedy sword of justice. At his touch The mountains flame. He shakes the solid earth, And rocks the nations. Nor in these alone, In ev'ry common instance GOD is seen. THOMSON's Spring.

If the beautiful spangles which a clear night pours on the beholder's eye; if those other fires, which beam in re|moter skies, and are discoverable only by that revelation to the sight, the telescope; if all those bright millions are so many fountains of day, enriched with native and inde|pendent lustre, illuminating planets, and enlivening sys|tems of their own:* 1.130 What pomp, how majestick and splendid, is disclosed in the midnight scene! What riches are disseminated through all those numberless provinces of the great JEHOVAH's empire!—Grandeur beyond ex|pression!—Yet there is not the meanest slave, but carries

greater wealth in his own bosom, possesses superiour dig|nity in his own person. The soul that informs his clay; —the soul that teaches him to think, and enables him to choose; that qualifies him to relish rational pleasure, and to breathe sublime desire;* 1.131—the soul that is endowed with such noble faculties, and, above all, is distinguished with the dreadful, the glorious capacity, of being pained or blessed forever;—this soul surpasses in worth, what|ever the eye can see; whatever of material the fancy can imagine. Before one such intellectual being, all tho treasure, and all the magnificence of unintelligent crea|tion, becomes poor and contemptible.† 1.132 For this soul, Omnipotence itself has waked, and worked through ev|ery age. To convince this soul, the fundamental laws of nature have been controlled, and the most amazing mir|acles▪ have alarmed all the ends of the earth. To instruct this soul, the wisdom of Heaven has been transfused into the sacred page; and missionaries have been sent from the Great King, who resides in light unapproachable. To sanctify this soul, the Almighty Comforter takes the wings of a dove, and, with a sweet transforming in|fluence, broods on the human heart. And O! to redeem this soul from guilt; to rescue it from Hell, the Heaven of heavens was bowed, and GOD himself came down to dwell in dust.

Let me pause, a while, upon this important subject. —What are the schemes which engage the attention of eminent statesmen and mighty monarchs, compared with the grand interests of an immortal soul? The sup|port of commerce, and the success of armies, though extremely weighty affairs, yet, if laid in the balance

against the salvation of a soul, are lighter than the downy feather, poised against talents of gold. To save a navy from shipwreck, or a kingdom from slavery, are deliverances of the most momentous nature, which the transactions of mortality can admit. But O! how they shrink into an inconsiderable trifle, if (their aspect up|on immortality forgot) they are set in competition with the delivery of a single soul, from the anguish and hor|rours of a distressed eternity!* 1.133

Is such the importance of the soul! What vigilance then can be too much; or rather, what holy solicitude can be sufficient for the overseers of the Saviour's flock, and the guardians of this great, this venerable, this invalua|ble charge?—Since such is the importance of the soul, wilt thou not, O man, be watchful for the preservation of thy own? Shall every casual incident awaken thy concern—every transitory toy command thy regard; and shall the welfare of thy soul, a work of continual occurrence—a work of endless consequence, sue in vain for thy serious care?—Thy soul, thy soul is thy all. If this be secured, thou art greatly rich, and wilt be un|speakably happy: If this be lost, a whole world acquir|ed, will leave thee in poverty; and all its delights en|joyed, will abandon thee to misery.

I have often been charmed and awed at the sight of the nocturnal heavens, even before I knew how to con|sider them in their proper circumstances of majesty and beauty. Something like magick has struck my mind, on a transient and unthinking survey of the ethereal vault, tinged throughout with the purest azure, and decorated with innumerable starry lamps. I have felt, I know not what, powerful and aggrandizing impulse, which seemed to snatch me from the low entanglements of vanity, and prompted an ardent sigh for sublimer ob|jects. Methought I heard, even from the silent spheres, a commanding call, to spurn the abject earth, and pant after unseen delights.—Henceforward I hope to imbibe

more copiously, this moral emanation of the skies; when, in some such manner as the preceding, they are rationally seen, and the sight is duly improved. The stars, I trust, will teach as well as shine; and help to dispel both na|ture's gloom, and my intellectual darkness. To some people they discharge no better a service, than that of holding a flambeau to their feet, and softening the hor|rours of their night. To me and my friends, may they act as ministers of a superiour order; as counsellors of wisdom, and guides to happiness! Nor will they fail to execute this nobler office, if they gently light our way into the knowledge of their adored Maker; if they point out, with their silver rays, our path to his beatifick presence.

I gaze, I ponder; I ponder, I gaze; and think inef|fable things. I roll an eye of awe and admiration. Again and again I repeat my ravished views, and can never satiate either my curiosity or my inquiry. I spring my thoughts into this immense field, till even fancy tires upon her wing. I find wonders ever new; won|ders more and more amazing;—yet, after all my present inquiries, what a mere nothing do I know—by all my future searches, how little shall I be able to learn—of those vastly distant suns, and their circling retinue of worlds! Could I pry with Newton's piercing sagacity, or launch into his extensive surveys, even then my appre|hensions would be little better than those dim and scanty images, which the mole, just emerged from her cavern, receives on her seeble optick.—This, sure, should repress all impatient or immoderate ardour to pry into the secrets of the starry structures, and make me more particularly careful to cultivate my heart. To fathom the depths of the divine essence, or to scan universal nature with a critical exactness, is an attempt which sets the acutest philosopher very nearly on a level with the idiot; since it is almost, if not altogether, as impracticable by the former, as by the latter.

Be it then my chief study, not to pursue what is absolutely unattainable, but rather to seek what is ob|vious to find, easy to be acquired, and of inestimable advantage when possessed. O! let me seek that charity

which edifieth,* 1.134 that faith which purifieth. Love, humble love, not conceited science, keeps the door of Heaven:—Faith, a childlike faith in JESUS, not the haughty self sufficient spirit, which scorns to be ignorant of any thing, presents a key † 1.135 to those abodes of bliss.— This present state is the scene destined to the exercise of devotion; the invisible world is the place appoint|ed for the enjoyment of knowledge. There the dawn of our infantile minds, will be advanced to the ma|turity of perfect day; or rather, there our midnight shades will be brightened into all the lustre of noon. There, the souls which come from the school of faith, and bring with them the principles of love, will dwell in light itself; will be obscured with no darkness at all; will know even as they are known.‡ 1.136—Such an ac|quaintance, therefore, do I desire to form, and to carry on such a correspondence with the heavenly bodies, as may shed a benign influence on the seeds of grace im|planted in my breast. Let the exalted tracts of the fir|mament, sink my soul into deep humiliation: Let those eternal fires kindle in my heart, an adoring gratitude to their Almighty Sovereign: Let yonder ponderous and enormous globes, which rest on his supporting arm, teach me an unshaken affiance in their incarnate Maker:— Then shall I be—if not wise as the astronomical adept, yet wise unto salvation.

Having now walked and worshipped in this univer|sal temple, that is arched with skies, emblazed with stars, and extended even to immensity—having cast an eye like the enraptured patriarch; * 1.137 an eye of reason and devotion, through the magnificent scene:—With the former, having discovered an infinitude of worlds; and with the latter, having met the Deity in every view— having beheld, as Moses in the flaming bush, a glimpse of JEHOVAH's excellencies, reflected from the several planets, and streaming from myriads of celestial lumina|ries—having read various lessons in that stupendous book of wisdom, † 1.138 where unmeasurable sheets of azure compose the page, and orbs of radiance write, in ever|lasting characters, a comment on our creed—what re|mains but that I close the midnight solemnity, as our LORD concluded his grand sacramental institution, with a song of praise?—And behold a hymn suited to the sub|lime occasion, indited by ‡ 1.139 inspiration itself; transferred into our language, by ‖ 1.140 one of the happiest efforts of hu|man ingenuity.

The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame, Th••ir great Original proclaim: Th' unwearied sun from day to day, Does his Creator's pow'r display; And publishes to ev'ry land, The work of an almighty hand.

Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail, The moon takes up the wond'rous tale; And nightly, to the list'ning earth, Repeats the story of her birth: While all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball? What though, nor real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found? In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing, as they shine, The hand that made us, is divine.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Referring to the several subjects of the three preceding essays.
• † 1.2

  Night open the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe, Which gives those venerable scenes full weight, And deep reception in th' entender'd heart. Night Thoughts, No. IX.
• ‡ 1.3

  Psal. xix.3.
• * 1.4

  Isa. viii.19.
• † 1.5

  "It is most becoming," says a great author,

  such imperfect creatures as we are, to contemplate the works of GOD, with this design, that we may discern the manifestations of wisdom in them; and thereby excite in ourselves those devout affections, and that superlative respect, which is the very essence of praise, as it is a reasonable and moral service.

  ABERNETHY on the At|tributes.—And indeed, if we are sincerely disposed to employ our|selves in this excellent, this delightful duty of praising the infinite Creator, the means and the motives are both at hand. His works, in a wonderful and instructive variety, present themselves, with preg|nant manifestations of the most transcendent excellencies of their Maker. They pour their evidence from all quarters, and into all the avenues of the mind. They invite us, especially in the mag|nificent system of the universe, to contemplate—counsel consummate|ly wise, and execution inimitably perfect—power to which nothing is impossible, and goodness which extendeth to all, which endureth for|ever.—To give, not a full display, but only some slight strictures of these glorious truths, is the principal scope of the following remarks.
• * 1.6

  A learned writer, I think Dr. Derbam, has somewhere an ob|servation to this purpose▪—That the loftiest summits of hills, and the most enormous ridges of mountains, are no real objection to the globular or round form of the earth. Because, however they may render it to our limited sight, vastly uneven and protuberant, yet they bear no more proportion to the entire surface of the terraqueous hall, than a particle of dust casually dropt on the mathematician's globe, bears to its whole circumference. Consequently, the rotund figure is no more destroyed in the former case, than in the latter.— On the same principle, I have not thought it necessary to take any notice of the comparatively small difference between the polar and equatorial diameter of the earth.
• † 1.7

  With what amazing speed, this vessel (if I may carry on the al|lusion) filled with a multitude of nations, and freighted with all their possessions, makes her way through the etherial space.
• * 1.8

  I say, in this respect, that I may not seem to forget, or exclude, the revolution of the sun round its own axis.
• * 1.9

  A hundred thousand times, according to the lowest reckoning. Sir ISAAC NEWTON computes the sun to be 900,000 times bigger than the earth. Religious Philosopher, page 749.
• † 1.10

  Dr. DERHAM, after having calculated the dimensions of the planets, adds,

  Amazing as these masses are, they are all far outdone by that stupendous globe of light, the sun; which, as it is the foun|tain of light and heat to all the planets about it, so doth it far sur|pass them all in its bulk: Its apparent diameter being computed at 822,148 English miles, its ambit at 2,582,873 miles, and its solid contents at 290,971,000,000,000,000.

  Astroth••l. book I. chap. 2.
• * 1.11

  See Religious Philosopher, page 819.
• † 1.12

  See As••rotheology, book II. chap. ii.—Where the author, hav|ing assigned various reasons to support this theory of our modern as|tronomers, adds—

  Besides the forementioned strong probabilities, we have this farther recommendation of such an account of the uni|verse, that it is far more magnificent, and worthy of the infinite Creator, than any other of the narrower schemes.
• ‡ 1.13

  Job, after a most beautiful dissertation on the mighty works of GOD, as they are distributed through universal nature, from the heights of Heaven, to the very depths of Hell, closes the magnificent account with this acknowledgment—Lo! these are parts of his ways. Or, as the original word more literally signifies, and may, I think, be more elegantly ••endered—These are only the skirts, the very out|ermost borders of his works. No more than a small preface to the immense volume of the creation.—From the Hebrew 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 extremi|ties, I cannot forbear thinking on the extreme and very attenuated fibres of the root, when compared with the who••e substance of the trunk; or on the exquisitely small size of the capiliary vessels, when compared with the whole structure of the body. Job xxvi.14.
• ‖ 1.14

  Dan. iv.3.
• * 1.15

  This puts me in mind of a very fine remark on a scriptural beauty, and a solid correction of the common translation, made by that learned, sagacious, and devout expositor, Vitringa.—Isa. xl.15. we find it written of the Supreme Being, that he taketh up the is•• as a very little thing.—Which, our critick observes, is neither an|swerable to the import of the original, nor consonant to the structure of the discourse. The prophet had no intention to inform mankind, what the Almighty could do with regard to the islands, if he pleased to exert uncontrollable power. His design was to shew, how insig|nificant, or rather what mere nothings they are, in his esteem, and before his majesty.—The islands, says he, though so spacious, as to afford room for the erection of kingdoms, and the abode of nations; though so strong, as to withstand, for many thousands of years, the raging and reiterated assaults of the whole watery world; are yet, before the adored JEHOVAH, small as the minutest grain, which the eye can scarce discern; light as the feathered mote, which the least breath hurries away like a tempest.—〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Insulae sunt ut leve quid, quod avolat. The deep rooted islands are as the volatile atom, which, by the gentlest undulations of the air, is wafted to and fr•• in perpetual agitation.
• * 1.16

  Spect. Vol. VIII. No. 565.
• † 1.17

  Java•• inter sidera vagantem divitum pavimenta ridere, et totam cum auro suo terram. SEN.
• ‡ 1.18

  Terrellae grandia inania. WATTS's Hor. Lyr.
• * 1.19

  The soul of man was made to walk the skies, Delightful outlet of her prison here! There, disencumber'd from her chains, the ties Of toys terrestrial, she can rove at large; There freely can respire, dilate, extend, In full proportion let loose all her pow'rs. Night Thoughts, No. IX.
• † 1.20

  Psal. viii.3, 4.
• * 1.21

  This reminds me of a very noble piece of sacred oratory, where, in a fine series of the most beautiful gradations, the Apostle displays the admirably condescending kindness of our Saviour.—He thought it no robbery, it was his indisputable right, to be equal with the infinite, self existent, immortal GOD. Yet, in mercy to sinners, he emptied himself of the incommunicable honours, and laid aside the robes of incomprehensible glory.—When he entered upon his mediatorial state, instead of acting in the grand capacity of universal Sovereign, he took upon him the form of a servant; and not the form of those ministering spirits, whose duty is dignity itself; who are throned, though adoring.—He took not on him the nature of angels, but stooped incomparably lower; assumed a body of animated dust, and was made in the likeness of men, those inferiour and depraved crea|tures.—Astonishing condescension! but not sufficient for the over|flowing riches of the Redeemer's love: For, being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself farther still: Occupied the lowest place, where all was low and ignoble. He not only submitted to the yoke of the law, but also bore the infirmities, and ministered to the neces|sities of mortals. He even washed the feet of others, and had not where to lay his own head:—Yea, he carried his meritorious hu|miliation to the very deepest degrees of possible abasement. He be|came obedient unto death—and not to a common or natural death, but a death more infamous than the gibbet—more torturous than the rack—even the accursed death of the cross. Phil. ii.6, 7, 8.
• * 1.22

  Eph. iii.18, 19.
• † 1.23

  Quo quisque altius ascendit in agnitione CHRISTI, ••o profundius peccati atrocitatem cognoscet.
• * 1.24

  Job vii.20. Not Preserver, as it stands in our version, but Ob|server of men. Which phrase, as it denotes the exact and incessant inspection of the divine eye—as it intimates the absolute impossibility, that any transgression should escape the divine notice, is evidently most proper, both to assign the reason, and heighten the emphasis of the context.
• † 1.25

  Milton sets this thought in a very poetical and striking light.—All the sanctities of Heaven stand round the throne of the Supreme Majesty. GOD foresees and foretels the fall of man—the ruin which will unavoidably ensue on his transgression, and the utter impossibility of his being able to extricate himself from the abyss of misery.

  He, with his whole posterity, must die; Die he, or justice must; unless for him Some other able, and as willing pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death.

  After which affecting representation, intended to raise the most ten|der emotions of pity, the following inquiry is addressed to all the surrounding angels:

  Say, heav'nly pow'rs, where shall we find such love? Which of you will be mortal, to redeem Man's mortal crime? and die, the dead to save? He ask'd; but all the heav'nly choir stood mute, And silence was in Heaven.

  There is, to me at least, an inimitable spirit and beauty in the last circumstance.—That such an innumerable multitude of generous and compassionate beings, should be struck dumb with surprise and ter|rour, at the very mention of the deadly forfeiture and ransom set! No language is so eloquent as this silence. Words could not possibly have expressed, in so emphatical a manner, the dreadful nature of the task; the absolute inability of any or all creatures to execute it; the super|eminent and matchless love of the eternal Son, in undertaking the tremendous work; not only without reluctance, but unsought and unimplored; with readiness, alacrity, and delight. Paradise Lost, book III. line 209.
• * 1.26

  Ezek, xvi.63.
• † 1.27

  Ezek. xxxvi.31.
• ‡ 1.28

  Heb. vii.26.
• * 1.29

  I am sorry to find, that some of my readers were a little disgust|ed at this expression, "My fears are quite gone;" as thinking it discovered a tincture of arrogance in the writer, and tended to dis|courage the weak christian. But I hope a more mature consideration will acquit me from both these charges.—For what has the author said? Only, that at some peculiarly happy moments, when the Holy Ghost bears witness of CHRIST in his heart, and he is favoured with a glimpse of the Redeemer's matchless excellency—that, in these brighter intervals of life, his trembling fears, with regard to the de|cisive sentence of the great tribunal, are turned into pleasing expecta|tions. And what is there in such a declaration offensive to the strictest modesty, or dispiriting to the weakest believer? Instead of creating discouragement, it points out the way to obtain a settled tranquillity. Its natural tendency is, to engage the serious mind in a more constant and attentive meditation on the unknown merits of the Divine MEDIATOR. And were we more thoroughly acquaint|ed, more deeply affected, with his unutterable dignity, I am persuad|ed, our uneasy apprehensions would proportionably vanish, our faith ••e established, our hopes brightened, and our joys enlarged.
• * 1.30

  This doctrine, though rich with consolation to the ruined sinner, yet is it not likely to open a door for licentiousness, and embolden transgressors to prosecute their vices?—No: It is the most powerful motive to that genuine repentance, which flows from an unfeigned love of GOD, and operates in a hearty detestation of all sin. One who knew the unmeasurable goodness of the LORD, and was no stran|ger to the sinful perverseness of our nature, says, There is mercy with thee: Therefore shalt thou be feared. Psal. cxxx.4.—Words full to my purpose; which at once add the highest authority to this sentiment, and direct our minds to its proper influence, and due improvement.
• † 1.31

  Acts xx.28.
• ‡ 1.32

  Psal. li.7. Thou shalt purge. I prefer this translation before the new one. Because this speaks the language of a more stedfast belief, and gives the highest honour to the divine goodness. Were the words intended to bear no more than the common petitionary sense, and not to be expressive of a noble plerophory of faith; they would rather have been 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 imperatives, not futures.
• * 1.33

  Zech. xiii.1.
• † 1.34

  Psal. lxii.11.
• ‡ 1.35

  Psal. cl.1.
• * 1.36

  If this thought is admitted a second time, and suffered to enno|ble the next paragraph, it is partly, because of its unequalled sublimity; partly, because it awakens the most grand idea of creating power; and partly, because the practice of the Psalmist, an authority too great to be controverted, is my precedent.—The beautiful stanza quoted from Psal. xxxiii.6, is a proof, how thoroughly the royal poet entered into the majesty of the Mosaick narration. The repe|tition of the sentiment, ver. 9, intimates, how peculiarly he was charmed with that noble manner of describing the divine operations; while the turn of his own composition shews, how perfectly he pos|sessed the same elevated way of thinking: And this, long before Longinus wrote the celebrated treatise, which has taught the heathen, as well as the christian world, to admire the dignity of the Jewish legislator's style. Vid. LONGIN. de sublim. sect. IX.
• † 1.37

  To give one instance of this remark.—The earth, in the diurnal revolution, which it performs on its own axis, whirls about at the rate of above a thousand miles an hour. And as the great orbit which it describes annually round the sun, is reckoned at 540 mill|ions of miles, it must travel near a million and an half each day.— What a force must be requisite, to protrude so vast a globe, and wheel it on, loaded as it is with huge mountains, and ponderous rocks, at such a prodigious degree of rapidity! It surpasses human concep|tion!—How natural, how pertinent, how almost necessary, after such an observation, is the acknowledgment made by holy Job, I know that THOU canst do every thing; and that no thought, no imaginable scheme, can be withholden from thee, can lie beyond thy power to execute. Chap. xlii.2.
• * 1.38

  Psal. xxxiii.9.
• † 1.39

  It is a most charming description, as well as a most comfortable promise, which we find in Isa. xl.29, 30, 31.—HE giveth power to the feeble; and to them that have no might at all, he not only impart|eth, but increaseth strength; making it to abound, where it did not so much as exist.—Without this aid of JEHOVAH, even the youths, amidst the very prime of their vigour and activity, shall become languid in their works, and weary in their course. And the young men, to whose resolution and abilities nothing seemed impracticable, shall not only not succeed, but utterly fall, and miscarry in their va|rious enterprises.—Whereas, they that wait upon the LORD, and con|fide in his grace, shall press on, with a generous ardour, from one de|gree of religious improvement to another. Instead of exhausting, they shall renew their strength; difficulties shall animate, and toil in|vigorate them. They shall mount up as with soaring wings, above all opposition; they shall be carried through every discouragement, as eagles cleave the yielding air. They shall run with speed and alacrity, the way of GOD's commandments, and not be weary: They shall hold on (〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 progredientur, carpent iter) with constancy and perseverance, in those peaceful paths, and not faint; but arrive at the end of their progress, and receive the prize of their high calling.

  To this most cheering doctrine, permit me to add its no less beau|tiful and delightful contrast. Eliphaz, speaking of the enemies of the righteous, says—〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉—which is rendered by a great critick in sacred learning, Nihil excisum factio nobis adversari••. We should reckon our language acquitted itself tolerably well, if, when depreciating the abilities of an adversary, it should represent them weak as the scorched thread, feeble as the dissolving smoke. But these are cold forms of speech, compared with the eloquence of the east. According to the genius of our Bible, all the power that op|poses the godly, is a mere nothing; or, to speak with a more emphati|cal air of contempt, a destroyed, an extirpated nothing.—Admire this expression, ye that are charmed with daring images, and (what Tully calls verbum ardens) a spirited and glowing diction.—Remember this declaration, ye that fight the good fight of faith. The united force of all your enemies, be it ever so formidable to the eye of flesh, is, before your Almighty Guardian, nihil nihilissimum, not only nothing, but less than nothing and vanity.

  Job xxii.20.
• * 1.40

  I should, in this place, avoid swelling the notes any farther, was it not to take notice of the inimitable passage quoted above, and to be found Eph. iii.20.—Which, if I do not greatly mistake, is the most complete representation of divine power, that it is possible for words to frame.—To do all that our tongue can ask, is a miracle of might. But we often think more than we can express, and are actuated with "groanings unutterable." Yet, to answer these vast desires, is not beyond the accomplishment of our heavenly Father.—Nay, to make his gifts and his blessings commensurate to the largest stretch of hu|man expectations, is a sma••l thing with the GOD of glory. He is able to do above all that the most enlarged apprehension can imagine; yea, to do abundantly more, exceeding abundantly more, than the mind itself, in the utmost exertion of all its faculties, is capable of wishing, or knows how to conceive.
• * 1.41

  One of the planets (Saturn) is supposed to be more than ninety times as big as the globe on which we live. According to the same calculation, the largest of the planets (Jupiter) is above 200 times vaster than this vast collection of spacious forests, towering moun|tains, extensive continents, and boundless oceans.—Such enormous magnitude! winged with such prodigious speed!—It raises astonish|ment beyond expression. With GOD is terrible majesty! Job xxxvii.22.—Who shall not fear THEE, O LORD! and glorify thy name? Rev. xv.4.
• * 1.42

  Isa. xl.12. The dust of the earth, in this sublime scripture, signifies the dry land, or solid part of our globe; which is placed in contradistinction to the whole collection of fluid matter, mentioned in the preceding clause.—Perhaps this remarkable expression may be intended to intimate, not only the extreme niceness which stated the dimensions of the world in general, or in the gross; but also that particular exactness, with which the very smallest materials that con|stitute its frame, (not excepting each individual atom) were calcu|lated and disposed.—q. d. It is a small thing to say, no such enor|mous redundancies, as unnecessary ridges of mountains, were suffered to subsist. There was not so much as the least grain of sand super|fluous, or a single particle of dust deficient.—As the grand aim of the description is, to celebrate the consummate wisdom exemplified in the creation, and to display that perfect proportion, with which every part tallies, coincides, and harmonises with the whole, I have taken leave to alter the word of our English translation, comprehend, and intro|duce in its stead, a term equally faithful to the Hebrew, and more significative of the prophet's precise idea.
• * 1.43

  The interception of light, by means of an eclipse, happens very rarely. And then it is of so short a continuance, as not to be at all inconvenient. Nay, it is attended with such circumstances, as render it rather useful, than prejudicial.
• * 1.44

  The sun in particular, (and let this serve as a specimen of that most curious exactness, with which the other celestial bodies are constituted, and all their circumstances regulated) the sun is formed of such a determinate magnitude, and placed at such a convenient distance,

  as not to annoy, but only refresh us, and nourish the ground with its kindly warmth. If it was larger, it would set the earth on fire; if smaller, it would leave it frozen. If it was nearer us, we should be scorched to death; if farther from us, we should not be able to live for want of heat.

  STACKHOUSE's History of the Bible.
• † 1.45

  See Gen. xii.7, 8.
• * 1.46

  —Mazes intricate, Eccentrick, intervolv'd; yet regular Then most, when most irregular they seem. MILT
• * 1.47

  —The moral world, Which, tho' to us it seems embroil'd, moves on In higher order; fitted, and impell'd By wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all In gen'ral good. THOMS. Wint. l. 586.
• † 1.48

  Psal. xcvii.2▪
• * 1.49

  Gen. i.31.
• † † 1.50

  This 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 of the universe, and all its parts, has been very highly, and very justly extolled, by the ancient inquirers into nature; and was, indeed, an illustrious scene spread before the sages of the heathen world, wherein to contemplate the goodness and the glories of the Supreme Being.—It was nobly said, by a Pagan phi|losopher, on this occasion; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; That GOD, when he undertook the work of creation, transformed himself into love.—But he need not transform himself into this amiable principle; for "GOD is love;" as w•• much more nobly said by one, whom that philosopher would have termed a barbarian. 1 John iv.8.
• † † 1.51

  This 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 of the universe, and all its parts, has been very highly, and very justly extolled, by the ancient inquirers into nature; and was, indeed, an illustrious scene spread before the sages of the heathen world, wherein to contemplate the goodness and the glories of the Supreme Being.—It was nobly said, by a Pagan phi|losopher, on this occasion; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; That GOD, when he undertook the work of creation, transformed himself into love.—But he need not transform himself into this amiable principle; for "GOD is love;" as w•• much more nobly said by one, whom that philosopher would have termed a barbarian. 1 John iv.8.
• ‡ 1.52

  A very celebrated poet, in a beautiful paragraph on this subject, informs his readers, that all nature swarms with life. In subterra|nean cells, the earth heaves with vital motion. Even the hard stone, in the very inmost recesses of its impenetrable citadel, holds multi|tudes of animated inhabitants. The pulp of mellow fruit, and all the productions of the orchard, feed the invisible nations. Each liquid, whether of acid taste or milder relish, abounds with various forms of sensitive existence. Nor is the pure stream, or transparent air, without their colonies of unseen people.—In which constitution of things, we have a wonderful instance, not only of the divine good|ness to those minute beings, in giving them a capacity for animal gratifications; but of his tender care for mankind, in making them imp••rceptible to our senses.

  —These conceal'd By the kind art of forming Heav'n, escape The grosser eye of man: For if the worlds In worlds inclos'd should on his senses burst; From cates ambrosial, and the nectar'd bowl, He'd turn abhorrent; and, in dead of night, When silence s••eeps o'er all, be stunn'd with noise. THOMSON's Summer.
• * 1.53

  A sacred writer, considering this delightful subject, and confin|ing his observation within the narrow limits of his own country, cries out, with a mixture of amazement and gratitude, how great is his goodness, and how great is his beauty!—Who then can forbear being lost in wonder, and transported with delight, when he extends his survey to those infinitely more copious communications of divine bounty; which, like salutary and refreshing streams, run through all worlds; and make, not only the little valleys of a single kingdom, but the immensity of creation, laugh and sing? Zech. ix.17.
• ** 1.54

  In this sense, there is none good, but one, that is GOD: None universally and essentially good: None whose goodness extends it|self, in an infinite variety of blessings, to every capable object; or, who always dispenses his favours, from the sole principle of free and disinterested benevolence.
• ** 1.55

  In this sense, there is none good, but one, that is GOD: None universally and essentially good: None whose goodness extends it|self, in an infinite variety of blessings, to every capable object; or, who always dispenses his favours, from the sole principle of free and disinterested benevolence.
• † 1.56

  In this, and in other parts of the Contemplations, the reader will observe, that the attributes of the Deity are represented, as shining with more distinguished lustre in the wonders of redemption, than in the works of creation. If such remarks should seem to be unprece|dented, or to stand in need of a vindication, permit me to subjoin the sentiments of a great critick, equally versed in both those sublime theories.—"In a perfect orator," he says,

  Tully requires some skill in the nature of heavenly bodies; because his mind will become more extensive and unconfined; and, when he descends to treat of human affairs, he will both think and write in a more exalted and magnificent manner. For the same reason, that excellent master would have recommended the study of those great and glorious mysteries which revelation has discovered to us; to which the noblest parts of this system of the world, are as much inferiour, as the creature is less excellent than the Creator.

  Spect. vol. VIII. No. 633.
• * 1.57

  Rom. v.8.
• † 1.58

  Philanthropy, that is, loving kindness to man.
• ‡ 1.59

  Zech. xiii.7.
• * 1.60

  Isa. xlix.13.—I have not adhered to our common translation, but endeavoured to preserve, somewhat more faithfully, the noble pathos, and inimitable energy, of the sacred original.—The love of GOD, manifested in a divine and dying Saviour, is a blessing of such inconceivable richness, as must render all acknowledgments flat, and all encomiums languid: Yet, I think, the most poetical and most emphatical celebration of that unspeakable instance of goodness, is contained in this rapturous exclamation of the prophet: Which intimates, with a wonderful majesty of sentiment, that even the whole compass of the inanimate creation, could it be sensible of the benefit, and capable of delight, would express its gratitude, in all these demonstrations of the most lively and exuberant joy.
• * 1.61

  O thou Most Highest!—This expression occurs more than once in the psalms used by the established church. It is, I think, one of those beauties, which, because often exhibited, generally escape our notice. It is a superlative formed on a superlative; and, though not strictly conformable to grammatical rules, is nobly superiour to them all.—The language seems to be sensible of its own deficiency, when the incomprehensible JEHOVAH is addressed, or celebrated. Op|pressed, as it were, with the glories of the subject, it labours after a more emphatical manner of diction, than the ordinary forms of speech afford.—It is, if I rightly judge, one of those daring and happy pecu|liarities of a masterly genius, which Mr. Pope so finely describes; and, while he describes, exemplifies:

  Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, And rise to faults true criticks dare not mend; From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part, And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art. Essay on Criticism.

  St. Paul's—〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉— is a beautiful pas|sage of the like nature; which our translators have very properly ren|dered, less than the least of all saints.—His 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 is another instance of the same kind. But here the Eng|lish version fails. Far better is extremely flaccid, compared with the nervous original. And I greatly question, whether it is possible to translate the sentence, with equal conciseness, and with equal spirit. See Eph. iii.8. Phil. i.23.
• * 1.62

  Job xxv.5, 6. I submit it to the judgment of the learned, whether this is not the true meaning of the text.—It may, not perhaps, recommend itself to the squeamishly nice critick; or to those persons who dream of, I know not what, dignity in our fallen nature. But it seems, in preference to every other interpretation, suitable to the sacred context; and is far, far from being injurious to the character of that apostate race, which is "altogether become abominable," and "is as an unclean thing."—On this supposition, there is not only an apparent, but a very striking contrast, between the purity of GOD, and the pollution of man: The purity of the most high GOD, which outshines the moon, and eclipses the stars; the pollution of degenerate man, which, exclusive of a Saviour, would render him as loathsome to the all seeing eye, as the vilest vermin are in ours.—Without as|signing this sense to the passage, I cannot discern the force of the antithesis, nor indeed the propriety of the sentiment. Worms, in the general, give us an idea of meanness and infirmity; not of defilement and impurity; unless they are insects, hatched amidst putrefaction, and considered in such noisome circumstances.—The two words of the original, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 are evidently used in this signifi|cation, by Moses and Isaiah: By the former, to denote the vermin which devoured the putrefied manna; by the latter, to express the reptiles which swarm in the body that sees corruption. Exod. xvi.20. Isa. xiv.11.
• * 1.63

  Job xlii.6.
• † 1.64

  Isa. vi.5.
• ‡ 1.65

  In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin, and for uncleanness. Zech. xiii.1.
• ‖ ‖ 1.66

  The inspired penman, from these two occasions of distinguish|ed joy, sets forth the incomparably greater delight which arises from the gift of a Saviour, and the blessing of redemption. Isa. ix. ver. 3. compared with ver. 6.
• ‖ ‖ 1.67

  The inspired penman, from these two occasions of distinguish|ed joy, sets forth the incomparably greater delight which arises from the gift of a Saviour, and the blessing of redemption. Isa. ix. ver. 3. compared with ver. 6.
• * 1.68

  This refers, not only to the planets which pass and repass about our sun, but also to the other planetary worlds, which are supposed to attend the several fixed stars.
• † 1.69

  The diameter of Jupiter is calculated at 130,650 miles, while its orbit is reckoned to consist of 895,134,000. Which computation, according to the maxims of astronomy, and the laws of proportion, may, as is taken for granted in the Contemplations, be applied to other planets revolving round other suns.
• ‡ 1.70

  By bounty, I mean not the actual exercise, or the sensible effects of this excellency in the Deity. These are, and always must be, through the immense perfection of the attribute, and the necessary scantiness of the recipient, bounded. But I would be understood as speaking of the divine power, and the divine will, to exert divine beneficence. These can have no real, no imaginable limits: These, after a profusion of blessings, distributed to unnumbered worlds, continued through unnumbered ages, must still have more to bestow; for ever have more to bestow; infinitely more to bestow, than it is possible for creation itself to receive.
• * 1.71

  2 Cor. ix.8. GOD is able to make all grace abound towards you, that ye, having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work.—How beautiful and emphatical is this description! inferiour to nothing, but that extent of ability, and those riches of liberality, which it so eloquently celebrates. Does it not exhaust all the powers of language, while it attempts to give us a specimen of the munifi|cence of the LORD?
• * 1.72

  Once more refers to page 65. of Reflections on a Flower Garden.—The following pages, to the 1236, exhibit a digressive view of the divine mercy. I thought it proper to apprise my reader of this ex|cursion, though I hope it will be needless to offer an apology for enlarging upon a theme incomparably joyous. Who can complain of tediousness, while I speak consolation to distressed, and recovery to ruined creatures? The divine mercy is the sole fountain of all ou•• present and future blessings. In conformity to this benign attribute, human hopes arise, and human felicity flows. Who, therefore, can be weary of viewing and reviewing, when the lengths and breadths of forgiving grace, are the ravishing prospect?
• * 1.73

  See 2 Chron. xxxiii.
• * 1.74

  Acts ix.1. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Soul yet breathing out threatening and slaughter.—What a representa|tion is here of a mind, mad with rage, and abandoned to the fiercest extremes of barbarity! I scarce know whether I am more shocked at the persecutor's savage disposition, or charmed with the evangelist's lively description.—The adverb 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 seems referable to chap. viii. ver. 3. and has, in this connexion, a peculiar force. The havock he had committed, the inoffensive families he had already ruined, were not sufficient to assuage his vengeful spirit. They were only a tas••e; which, instead of glutting the bloodhound, made him more closely pursue the track, and more eagerly pant for destruction.—He is still athirst for violence and murder. So eager and insatiable is his thirst, that he even breathes out threatening and slaughter. His words are spears and arrows, and his tongue a sharp sword. 'Tis as natural for him to menace the christians, as to breathe the air.—Nay, they bleed every hour, every moment, in the purposes of his ranco|rous heart. It is only owing to want of power, that every syllable he utters, every breath he draws, does not deal about deaths, and cause some of the innocent disciples to fall.
• † 1.75

  1 Cor. vi.9, 10, 11.
• * 1.76

  Exod. xxxiv.6, 7.
• * 1.77

  Mic. vii.18.
• † 1.78

  Job xxvi.7.
• * 1.79

  With regard to the final perseverence of the true believer, I am sensible this point is not a little controverted.—The sentiments which follow, are my stedfast belief. It is by no means proper, in a work of this nature, to enter upon a discussion of the subject: Neither have I room so much as to hint, what might be urged for its support. Let my reader observe, that I am far from delivering it as essential to christianity, or necessary to salvation. Millions of the very contrary conviction, are, I doubt not, high in the favour of GOD, and in a growing meetness for his heavenly kingdom. As I blame none for rejecting, ‡ none, I hope, will be offended with me for espousing, this particular doctrine.—To be of different opinions, at least in some in|feriour instances, seems an unavoidable consequence of our present state; where ignorance, in part, cleaves to the wisest minds, and prej|udice easily besets the most impartial judgments. This may turn to our common advantage, and afford room for the display and exercise of those healing virtues, moderation, meekness, and forbearance.— Let me only be permitted to ask, whether this tenet does not evi|dently tend to establish the comfort of the christian, and to magnify the fidelity of GOD our Saviour? whether, far from countenancing sloth, or encouraging remissness, to know that our labour shall not be in vain, is not the most prevailing inducement to abound in the work of the LORD? 1 Cor. xv.58.

  Is any one inclined to examine the reasons which made the author a proselyte to this persuasion, he may find them displayed in the me|morial delivered by several select and eminent divines of the church of England, at the renowned Synod of Dordt.—(See Acta Synod. Dordrech. par. II. p. 246. of the Latin edition, published in a single quarto volume.)—Those who have no opportunity of consulting the memoirs of that venerable assembly, I would refer to the works of the indefatigable and very learned Turrettine, or to those of the can|did and elegant Witsius.—Turret. tom. II. q. xvi. Wits. Oecon. lib. III. chap. xiii.

  The latest and fullest view of the point, which I ever remember to have met with, in any of our English writers, is in the Limestreet lectures: Which are a defence of several most important doctrines of the Gospel, and contained in two octavo volumes; the united labours of nine modern divines; most of whom are well known to the world by their other evangelical and useful writings. In those lectures, the final perseverance of the saints is very particularly stated, and, to my apprehension at least, most satisfactorily proved. The arguments ••ally urged against ••t, are impartially considered; and I cannot but think (with all due deference to the judgment of others) unanswera|bly confuted.

  And here (not to swell this note any farther) I shall only just hint, that the judicious Hooker (an authority, perhaps, as weighty and un|exceptionable as any that can well be produced) gives a solemn attesta|tion to this tenet, in a short discourse on the perpetuity of faith, sub|joined to his Ecclesiastical Polity, fol. edit.
• * 1.80

  Isa. xli.10.
• † 1.81

  John x.28.
• ‡ 1.82

  Jer. xxxi.35, 36.
• ‖ 1.83

  Tit. i.2.
• * 1.84

  The tenderness and faithfulness of GOD to his people, are finely pictured by the prophet Isaiah, ch••p. xl••i. ver. 3. Which passage, because of its rich consolation, and uncommon beauty, is deservedly adopted by St. Matthew, and ingrafted into the system of evangeli|cal truths. He will not himself break, nor suffer to be broken by any other, the bruised reed; nor quench the smoking flax. Was it possible to have chosen two more delicate and expressive representations?— Could any image be more significant of a very infirm and enfeebled faith, than the flexile reed, that bends before every wind; which, be|sides its natural weakness, is made abundantly weaker by being bruis|ed, and so is ready to fall in pieces of itself? Or, could any thing with a more pathetical exactness, describe the extreme imbecility of that other principle of divine life, l••ve? The state of the flax, just beginning ••o burn, is liable to be put out by the least blast: More liable still is the wick of the lamp, when it is not so much as kindled into a glimmering flame, but only breathing smoke, and uncertain whether it shall take fire or no:—Yet true faith, and heavenly love, though subsisting amidst such pitiable infirmities, will not be aban|doned by their great Author; shall not be extinguished by any tempt|ation; but be maintained, invigorated, and made finally triumphant. Matth. xii.20.
• † 1.85

  Psal. cxix.89, 90.
• * 1.86

  Matth. vii.7.
• † 1.87

  Luke xi.13.
• ‡ 1.88

  John vi.37.
• ‖ 1.89

  —If these fa••l, The pillar'd firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble. MILT. Comus.
• * 1.90

  See the next note.
• * 1.91

  CHRIST, the wisdom of GOD, and the power of GOD. 1 Cor. i.24.—To the intent that now, unto the principalities and powers in heav|enly places, might be known by the church (by the amazing contriv|ance, and accomplishment of its redemption) the deep, extensive, and (〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉) greatly diversified wisdom of GOD. Eph. iii.10.
• * 1.92

  In this sense, that saying of our LORD is eminently true, He that hath seen ME, hath seen the FATHER. John xiv.9.
• † 1.93

  Coloss. ii.3.—Not a mean degree, but a treasure; not one treas|ure, but many; not many only, but all treasures of true wisdom and saving knowledge, are in CHRIST, and his glorious Gospel.—The transcendent excellency of those treasures, seems to be finely intimated in that other expression 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, hid; (which may be interpret|ed by the Hebrew 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Job iii.21.) laid up, with the utmost care, and the greatest safety. Not left at all adventures, to be stumbled upon by every giddy wanderer, or to fall into the arms of the yawning sluggard; but, like jewels of the brightest lustre, or riches of the highest value, kept in store, to adorn and reward the dili|gent searcher.
• ‡ 1.94

  This, I believe, is the import of the apostle's language, though it is not a literal translation of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. 1 Pet. i.12.—I never had such a lively apprehen|sion of the beautiful significancy of the last word, as when I have at|tended a dissection of some part of the animal body. In order to dis|cern the minutiae of the admirable frame, the latent wonders of art and mechanism, the eye is so sharpened, and its application so in|tensely bended, as gives a very just experimental comment on that ex|pressive phrase, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.—With such earnest attention is the everlasting Gospel contemplated by the angelick orders! How much more, if it were possible, does it deserve the devout and incessant con|sideration of human minds? since, by them, it is not only to be specu|lated as a bright and ravishing display of the divine attributes, but to be applied to their fallen nature, as a most benign scheme of recover|ing grace; as the sure and only method of obtaining life and im|mortality.
• * 1.95

  And I, says our LORD, if I be lifted up from the earth, and ex|tended on the cross, will draw all men unto me; will give such a rich and transcendent display of my love, as shall constitute the most pow|erful and prevailing attractive of theirs. John xii.32.
• † 1.96

  Alluding to Isaiah vi.6.
• * 1.97

  For this quotation, and several valuable hints, I acknowledge my|self indebted to those beautiful and sublime poems, entitled, Night Thoughts: Of which I shall only say, that I receive fresh pleasure and richer improvement, from every renewed perusal;—and, I think, I shall have reason to bless the indulgent Bestower of all wisdom, for those instructive and animating compositions, even in my last mo|ments. Than which nothing can more emphatically speak their su|periour excellence, nor give a more solid satisfaction to their worthy author.—Happy should I think myself, if these little sketches of contemplative devotion might be honoured with the most inferiour degree of the same success; might receive a testimony, not from the voice of same, but from the dying lips of some edified christian!
• * 1.98

  Heb. viii.10.
• * 1.99

  Psal. xxvii.1.
• † 1.100

  Psal. xxiii.1.
• * 1.101

  Perplexing.—Those who read the original language of the New Testament, are sufficiently apprised, that such is the significancy of that benevolent dissuasive urged by our LORD, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Matth. vi.25.—I beg leave, for the sake of the unlearned reader, to observe, that our translation, though for the most part faithful and excellent, has here misrepresented our Divine Master's meaning. Take no thought for your food, for your raiment, for your bodily welfare, is not only not the true sense, but the very reverse of this scriptural doctrine. We are required to take a prudent and moderate thought for the necessaries of life. The sluggard who neglecte•• his decent precaution, is severely reprimanded; is sent to one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the meanest animals, to blush for his folly, and learn discretion fr•• her conduct, Prov. vi.6. Our Saviour's precept, and the exact sense of his expression, is, Take no anxious thought; indulge no perplexing care; no such care as may argue an unreasonable distrust of Provi|dence, or may rend and tear your minds with distressing, with per|nicious solicitude.
• * 1.102

  The planets, and all the innumerable host of heavenly bodies, perform their courses and revolutions, with so much certainty and exactness, as never once to fail; but, for almost 6000 years, come constantly about to the same period, in the hundredth part of a minute.

  STACKHOUSE's Hist. Bible.
• † 1.103

  This is spoken in conformity to the scripture language, and ac|cording to the common notion. With respect to the power which effected the alteration, it is much the same thing, and alike miracu|lous, whether the sun or the earth be supposed to move.
• ‡ 1.104

  Josh. x.12, 13.—The prophet Habakkuk, according to his lofty manner, celebrates this event; and points out, in very poetical dic|tion, the design of so surprising a miracle.—The sun and the moon stood still in their habitation: In the light, the long continued and miracu|lous light, thy arrows, edged with destruction, walked on their awful errand; in the clear shining of the day, protracted for this very pur|pose, thy glittering-spear, launched by thy people, but guided by thy hand, sprung to its prey. Hab. iii.11.
• * 1.105

  Judg. v.20.—The scriptural phrase fought against, will, I hope, be a proper warrant for every expression I have used on this occasion.—The passage is generally supposed to signify, that some very dreadful meteors (which the stars were thought to influence) such as fierce flashes of lightning, impetuous showers of rain, and rapid storms of hail, were employed by the Almighty, to terrify, annoy, and overthrow the enemies of Israel. If so, there cannot be a more clear and lively paraphrase on the text, than those fine lines of a Jewish writer.—His severe wrath shall HE sharpen for a sword; and the world shall fight with him against the ungodly. Then shall the right aiming thunderbolts go abroad; and from the clouds, as from a well drawn bow, shall they fly to their mark. And hail stones, full of wrath, shall be cast out of a stone bow; and the water of the sea shall rage against them; and the floods (as was the case of the river Kishon) shall cruelly drown them; yea, a mighty wind shall stand up against them; and, like a storm, shall blow them away. Wisd. v.20, 21, 22, 23.
• * 1.106

  This argument, I acknowledge, is not absolutely conclusive: But it is popular and striking. Nor can I think myself obliged, in such a work, where fancy bears a considerable sway, to proceed al|ways with the caution and exactness of a disputer in the schools. If there be some appearance of analogy between the fact and the infer|ence, it seems sufficient for my purpose; though the deduction should not be necessary, nor the process strictly syllogistical.—One of the apostolick fathers has an affecting and sublime paragraph, which runs entirely in this form: 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. The sun, the moon, and the starry choir, without the least deviation, and with the utmost harmony, perform the revolutions ap|pointed them by the supreme decree. From which remark, and a|bundance of other similar instances, observable in the economy of nature, he exhorts christians to a cordial unanimity among them|selves, and a dutiful obedience to GOD. Vid. Clem. Roman. 1 ep. ad. Corinth. sect. 20.—See also a beautiful ode in Dr. Watts's Lyrick Poems, entitled, The Comparison and Complaint, which turns upon this very thought,
• * 1.107

  Come forth, O man, yon azure round survey, And view those lamps, which yield eternal day. Bring forth thy glasses: Clear thy wond'ring eyes: Millions beyond the former millions rise: Look farther;—millions more blaze from remoter skies. See an ingenious poem, entitled, The Universe.
• † 1.108

  How noble, considered in this view, are the celebrations of the divine Majesty, which frequently occur in the sacred writings! It is the LORD that made the Heavens. Psal. xcvi.5.—What a prodig|ious dignity does such a sense of things give to that devout ascription of praise! Thou, even thou, art LORD alone; thou hast made Heaven, the Heaven of heavens, with all their host. Nehem. ix.6.—Exam|ined by this rule, the beautiful climax in our inspired hymn, is sub|lime beyond compare. Praise HIM, sun and moon: Praise HIM, all ye stars of light: Praise HIM, ye Heavens of heavens. Psal. cxlviii.3, 4.
• * 1.109

  This, incredible as it may seem, is not a mere supposition, but a real fact. For, about the twenty first of December, we are above 160,000,000 of miles nearer the northern parts of the sky, than we were at the twenty first of June: And yet, with regard to the stars situate in that quarter, we perceive no change in their aspect, nor any augmentation of their magnitude.
• * 1.110

  Numb. xxiv.17. Dan. viii.10.
• * 1.111

  Dan. xii.3.
• † 1.112

  I speak in conformity to the appearance of the object. For though this remarkable star revolves round the pole, its motion is so slow, and the circle it describes so small, as render both the revolution, and change of situation, hardly perceivable.
• * 1.113

  Isa. lx.20.
• † 1.114

  1 Cor. xv.41, 42. The great Mr. Mede prefers the sense here given; and the learned Dr. Hammond admits it into his paraphrase. Whose joint authority, though far from excluding any other, yet is a sufficient warrant for this application of the words.
• ‡ 1.115

  T••e invidiam, et tuum est quod habeo: Tolle invidiam, et meum, est quod habes. AUGUSTINE.
• * 1.116

  Psal. xlv.8.
• † 1.117

  I am aware the planetary orbits are not strictly circular, but rather elliptical. However, as they are but a small remove from the perfectly round figure, and partake of it incomparably more than the trajectories of the comets, I choose to represent the thing in this view. Especially, because the notion of a circle is so much more intelligible to the generality of readers, than that of an ellipsis; and because I laid it down for a rule, not to admit any such abstruse sentiment, or difficult expression, as should demand a painful attention, instead of raising an agreeable idea. For which reason, I have avoided technical terms; have taken no notice of Jupiter's satellites, or Saturn's ring; have not so much as mentioned the names of the planets, nor attempt|ed to wade into any depths of the science; lest, to those who have no opportunity of using the telescope, or of acquainting themselves with a system of astronomy, I should propound riddles, rather than display entertaining and edifying truths.
• * 1.118

  Col. i.4. Philem. ver. 5.
• † 1.119

  Gal. v.6.
• * 1.120

  I mean, the attraction both of gravitation and cohesion.
• † 1.121

  Ponderibus librata suis.
• * 1.122

  See another remarkable instance of this kind, in the Reflections on a Flower Garden, vol. I. page 97—together with a fine observation, quoted in the corresponding note.
• * 1.123

  1 Cor. xv.10.
• † 1.124

  See that beautiful piece of sacred and allegorical imagery display|ed, Ezek. xxxvii.
• ‡ 1.125

  If this conjecture (which has no less a person than th•• celebrated Mr. Huygens for its author) concerning unseen stars, be true; if, to this observation be added, what is affirmed by our skilful astronomers, that the motion of the rays of light is so surprisingly swift, as to pass through ten millions of miles in a single minute—how vast! be|yond imagination vast and unmeasurable, are the spaces of the uni|verse! —While the mind it distended with the grand idea; or rather, while she is dispatching her ablest powers of piercing judgment, and excursive fancy, and finds them all dropt short; all baffled by the a|mazing subject—permit me to apply that spirited exclamation, and noble remark—

  — Say, proud arch, Built with divine ambition; in disdain Of limit built; built in the taste of Heav'n! Vast concave! ample dome! wast thou design'd A meet apartment for the DEITY? Not so: That thought alone thy state impairs: Thy lofty sinks; and shallows thy profound; And streightens thy diffusive.— Night Thoughts, No. IX.
• * 1.126

  Ev'n the blue down the purple plum surrounds, A living world, thy failing sight confounds. To him a peopled habitation shews, Where millions taste the bounty GOD bestows. See a beautiful and instructive Poem, styled—DEITY.
• † 1.127

  There are living creatures abundantly smaller than the mite. Mr. Bradley, in his Treatise on Gardening, mentions an insect, which, after accurate examination, he found to be a thousand times less than the least visible grain of sand. Yet such an insect, though quite im|perceptible to the naked eye, is an elephant, is a whale, compared with other animal••ule••, almost infinitely more minute, discovered by Mr. Lewenboeck.—If we consider the several limbs which compose such an organized particle; the different muscles which actuate such a set of limbs; the flow of spirits, incomparably more attenuated, which put those muscles in motion; the various fluids which circu|late; the different secretions which are performed; together with the peculiar minuteness of the solids, before they arrive at their full growth; not to mention other more astonishing modes of diminution —sure, we shall have the utmost reason to acknowledge, that the adored Maker is—MAXIMUS IN MI NIMIS; greatly glorious, even in his smallest works.
• * 1.128

  Isa. xlix.15. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may for|get; yet will I not forget thee.—How delicate and expressive are the images in this charming scripture! How full of beauty, if beheld in a critical, how rich with consolation, if considered in a believing view. —Can a woman! one of the softer sex; whose nature is most im|pressible, and whose passions are remarkably tender—can such a one, not barely disregard, but entirely forget; not suspend her care for a while, but utterly erase the very memory—of her child; her own child, not another's;—a child that was formed in her womb, and is a part of herself?—her son—the more important, and therefore more desirable species; to whom it peculiarly belongs to preserve the name, and build up the family:—Her only son—for the word is singular, and refers to a case where the offspring, not being numerous, but centred in a single birth, must be productive of the fondest endear|ment: —Can she divest herself of all concern for such a child; not when he is grown up to maturity, or gone abroad from her house, but while he continues in an infantile state, and must owe his whole safety to her kind attendance; while he lies in her bosom, rests on her arm, and even sucks at her breast?—Especially if the poor innocent be racked with pain, or seized by some severe affliction, and so be|come an object of compassion, as well as of love. Can she hear its piercing cries—can she see it all restless, all helpless, under its mise|ry, and feel no emotions of parental pity!—If one such monster in humanity might be found—could all (here the Prophet, to give his comparison the utmost energy, changes the singular number into the plural. It is not 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, but 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉) could all mothers be so degenerate? This, sure, cannot be suspected, need not be feared. Much less need the true believer be apprehen|sive of the failure of my kindness. An universal extinction of those strongest affections of nature, is a more supposable case, than that I should ever be unmindful of my people, or regardless of their interests.
• * 1.129

  Psal. lxxx.1.
• * 1.130

  Consult with reason; reason will reply, Each lucid p••int, which glows in yonder sky, Informs a system in the boundless space, And fills, with glory, its appointed place: With beams unborrow'd, brightens other skies; And worlds to thee unknown, with heat and life supplies. The Universe.
• * 1.131

  In this respect, as vested with such capacities, the soul even of fallen men, has an unquestionable greatness and dignity; is majes|tick, though in ruin.
• † 1.132

  I beg leave to transcribe a pertinent passage, from that celebrat|ed master of reason, and universal literature, Dr. Bentley; whom no one can be tempted to suspect either tinctured with enthusiasm, or warped to bigotry.—"If we consider," says he,

  the dignity of an intelligent being, and put that in the scale against brute and in|animate matter, we may affirm, without overvaluing human na|ture, that the soul of one virtuous and religious man, is of greater worth and excellency than the sun and his planets, and all the stars in the world.

  See his Sermons at Boyle's Lect. No. 8.
• * 1.133

  Not all you luminaries quench'd at once, Were half so sad, as one benighted mind, Which gropes for happiness, and meets despair. Night Thoughts, No. IX.
• * 1.134

  1 Cor. viii.1. I need not inform my reader, that in this text, in that admirable chapter, 1 Cor. xiii. and in ••arious other passages of scripture, the word charity should by no means be confined to the particular act of alms giving, or external, beneficence. It is of a much more exalted and extensive nature. It signifies that divinely precious grace, which warms the soul with supreme love to GOD, and enlarges it with disinterested affection for men;—which renders it the reigning care of the life, and chief delight of the heart, to promote the hap|piness of the one, and the glory of the other.—This, this is that charity of which so many excellent things are every where spoken; which can never be too highly extolled, or too earnestly coveted, since it is the image of GOD, and the very spirit of Heaven.
• † 1.135

  The righteousness of CHRIST. This is what MILTON beau|tifully styles,

  — The golden key, That opes the palace of eternity.
• ‡ 1.136

  1 Cor. xlii.12.
• * 1.137

  Gen. xv.3.
• † 1.138

  — For Heaven Is as the book of GOD before thee set, Wherein to read his wonderous works. MILT.
• ‡ 1.139

  Psal. x••x.
• ‖ 1.140

  ADDISON, Spect. vol. VI. No. 465.