You know that the age in
which we live is very gloriously distinguished by the exertions which are
making for the religious improvement of the whole world. In former ages,
Christians seem to have had so much to do in providing for their own
spiritual comfort, and fleeing from the hand of the persecutor, that we
cannot wonder if they thought but little of the wants of others;
or, thinking of them, could do but little to relieve them. In these ages
of ignorance and bigotry, the flame of Christian benevolence was damped,
but its fire was not wholly extinguished; and when civil and religious
liberty were again restored, it burst forth with fresh and undecayed
vigour, from the grasp of that oppression which had for a while restrained
its energy. In these days, and in the happy country in which we live, we
see the principles of the gospel of peace left (to a certain extent at
least) to their own free operation, no longer adulterated so much as
formerly, by the allurements of human ambition, and no longer in any
degree restrained by the threatenings of human power. You live in a
neighbourhood that may remind you of other days; "The battle of
Bothwell Brig" is not yet forgotten. May it be remembered only to
inspire us with thankfulness, that we need no longer to fight for
our religious privileges; but can each of us sit under his own vine, and
his own fig-tree, none daring to make us afraid. At length men have
happily begun to see, that carnal weapons are altogether unfit, either for
the defence or furtherance of a kingdom, which is spiritual; and the happy
effects of unrestrained liberty of conscience, and freedom of discussion,
are universally felt and acknowledged, by those who differ most widely in
almost all other opinions. In these circumstances, we see that spirit of
Christian philanthropy again awakened in the breasts of modern Christians,
which glowed so fervently in the hearts of the early believers. The
effects of religious liberty on the revival of Christian benevolence, must
forcibly strike those of you who are at all acquainted with the history of
philanthropy, during the last fifty years.
Within that short period,
many institutions have been formed, most diversified indeed in their modes
of operation, and in the more immediate purposes for which they are
intended, but all having for their grand and ultimate object, the glory of
God, and the best interests of man. These institutions do not confine
their operations to one country or to one class of individuals. The field
of their benevolent exertions extends over the whole habitable globe; and
they embrace within the range of their benefits, people of almost every
rank and every condition. We might enumerate among those intended for the
temporal and religious improvement of our own countrymen, Bible Societies,
whose operations are also extended to other nations, whose object is to
furnish with the word of God such as could not, or would not otherwise
obtain it; Home Missionary Societies, for sending the preachers of that
word to such as are without the range of an evangelical ministry;
Religious Tract Societies, for breaking down religious publications into a
suitable form, and furnishing them at reduced prices, to encourage an
extensive circulation; and had we time to extend our attention to those
institutions which have an especial regard to the temporal welfare of our
fellow-men, you know well that we might introduce a lengthened list of
charitable institutions, of which not the least interesting, or the least
important, are those Mechanics’ Institutions, which are now forming in the
most populous parts of the country, and which bid fair to make the
labouring classes tread upon the heels of their superiors, in the walks of
science and philosophy. But our business at present is with religious
institutions, and we remark, that besides those we have mentioned, which
are especially designed for those who are grown up to manhood, we have
also Sabbath-schools, with all their appendages, for the religious
instruction of children.
While these institutions
embrace a field so vast, and a variety of character so diversified, we
cannot wonder if there should be some peculiarity of disposition or
circumstances to which the operations of none of them are specifically
adapted. Such a peculiarity, I conceive, is to be found in the case of
young people of our own age. We are, generally speaking, too young to
sympathize with the religious feelings of the old; and on the other hand,
we are too old to submit to the discipline of institutions which are
intended for the instruction of children.
When I say that we are too
young to sympathize with the religious feelings of the old, let me not be
misunderstood. Far be it from me to say that we are too young to feel
interested in the preaching of the gospel; or even too young to unite
ourselves to a Christian Church, and to unite in the most sublime and
delightful exercises of the Christian sanctuary. If there be any age more
suited than another for receiving impressions of an unseen world, and
boldly declaring ourselves on the Lord’s side, it is surely that age when
the affections are warm, the conscience not yet seared, nor the heart
hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. What I mean to say, is, that many of
us are not yet old enough, or may not think ourselves old enough to talk
familiarly of religion with our parents and their associates, to enter
into their views, and to sympathize with their feelings. Their trials,
their temptations, their besetting sins, and even their pleasures and
their hopes in this life, are all different from ours. There is a
reverence about age that forbids too great familiarity: we feel more at
ease when talking to those of our own age; and especially on the subject
of religion, we feel a reserve when conversing with those who are much
older than ourselves. From the conversation of the young again, this most
important subject is often banished by mutual consent, as something
gloomy; or at least too serious for youth, and that may with great safety
be put off to an age of greater gravity and seriousness. It thus appears
that in all that period of our life, when we have thrown off the habits of
childhood, and have begun to think for ourselves, the important interests
of eternity are too apt to be forgotten, and this important age seems to
me not to be provided as it might be, with religious instruction
peculiarly adapted to it. It is a period when the Christian parent or the
guardian thinks he has done all he can. He has sown the good seed of
instruction in the heart, and watered it, it may be with tears and earnest
prayers; and he thinks that he may now rest from his labours, that he may
now abate his watchfulness. And how frequently does it happen, that while
he thus slumbers, the enemy comes and sows tares among the wheat, and the
instructor looks in vain in the character of the man, for the fruits of
those admonitions which he had so carefully instilled into the mind of the
boy. It is the design of this meeting, my friends, to keep you in mind of
early instruction, if you have enjoyed it, or to lead your attention to it
now, if you have not had the privilege of a religious education.
The period of youth is, in
many respects, the most important period of our life. It is the period
when we are exposed to most danger, and it is the period when the
character is generally formed. The opinions then received, are generally
most pertinaciously adhered to through the rest of life.
It is not when the seed
lies covered in the bosom of the soil that there is the most danger from
an unpropitious season; though even then the parching heat may prevent its
springing, or the too copious rain may sour it in its bed; neither is it
when the plant has attained its full maturity, and has been hardened by
its exposure to many a storm; but that is the period of the greatest
danger, when the tender germ has just left the kindly protection of the
earth, and is first exposed to the rude blast and the piercing cold.
And so it is with man, who
has often been compared to the flower of the field. It is not when he
enjoys the protection of a father’s roof, and the advantage of parental
instruction, though even then, a bad system of education may ruin his
after-character. Neither is it after he has been long exposed to the
temptations of the world. The character has in general, by that time, been
formed, either in accordance with the practice of the world, or in
opposition to these practices. The danger is then past, though it may not
have been avoided. It is when the youth first goes out into the world that
the danger is at its greatest: it is then that every impulse, especially
if it be sinful, and therefore congenial to the mind, is apt to give a
direction to the future character; and, consequently, that every
temptation is too apt to bring destruction along with it.
Some of you may have
received a religious education, and maybe well acquainted with the
doctrines of the gospel. But do not presume that, on this account, you are
quite impregnable to the assaults of temptation, and may safely pass
without a struggle, the most critical period of life.
In some respects, the very
fact of having enjoyed a religious education, makes that time more
critically dangerous, when you begin to enjoy it no longer. The plant that
has been reared in a hot-house, and is guarded from all that could injure
its infant growth, suffers more, when exposed to the inclemencies of the
open sky, than that which has not been so carefully nurtured.
To one whose childhood has
been protected by pious parents, sin is still by nature as agreeable as it
is to others, and to him it has the additional charm of novelty. To
another, the wickedness of the world has been gradually made known, as his
mind gradually expands; but from such an individual, it is kept for a time
almost secret, till at length it bursts all at once upon him. While under
pious parents, the current of temptation has been kept from rushing upon
him, but it has still been flowing on. It has not been diverted from its
course, it has only been dammed up. The barrier that has been raised
against it, cannot, however, stand for ever; it must, some time or other,
give way; and the longer we have enjoyed its protection, the greater will
be the torrent that shall burst upon us, when it is broken down. And if,
my friends, it require an aid that is more than human, to enable us to
stand against the natural stream, to preserve us against single, but
successive temptations; surely when the enemy rushes in like a flood, it
is the Spirit of the Lord alone that can raise up a standard against him.
Such are some of the
dangers to which we are exposed from the world around us. There are
others, which are from the state of our own minds. We have begun to think
for ourselves, and have thrown off that servile deference to authority
which influences the minds of children. Formerly, for our parents to tell
us anything was sufficient evidence for our believing it. We thought they
could not be wrong; but we now perceive that we have a principle of reason
within ourselves, by whose aid, we feel that we ought to inquire into the
truth of all our opinions.
Among others, our religious
opinions come to be re-tried, and there are many things that may lead us,
on this most important subject, to false conclusions.
Our parents had told us of
the purity and perfection of Christianity, and we fondly thought that they
were living examples of that perfection which they taught us to aim at.
But we have begun to discover that they are not the perfect creatures we
took them to be. We thought them angels, and we find they are but men. We
thought them infallible, and we find they have their errors and their
weaknesses, and their sins, as well as ourselves. The character of a
witness materially affects his testimony; and, as we have in general no
ground for the religious opinions of childhood, but the testimony of
parents, our altered views of their character are apt to occasion an
alteration in our views, of the unchanging truths which they have taught
us. We so associate together their characters, and the doctrines which
they delivered to us, that when we begin to think of the former as weak
and imperfect, we are too apt to conclude, that the latter are weak and
imperfect also.
If, when we are thus
beginning to mistrust our early opinions, we should hear of some who have
bid fair in the Christian course, falling away, it will add strength to
our suspicion, that the doctrines of the Bible may not be all that we
thought them, and the natural aversion which we have to the truths under
review, will prevent us from perceiving the fallacy of the reasoning by
which we have arrived at this conclusion. When we have got thus far on the
way to infidelity, the very circumstance of our having received these
opinions in childhood, will seem another reason for despising them. We
shall associate them with the other fables which we then listened to with
pleasure, and received with confidence; and we shall think that we
believed the one, for the same reason that we gave credit to the other;
because of our inability to discover the gross deceits that had been
palmed upon us by those who had full possession of our confidence. By a
process of thinking, somewhat similar to this, we may come at last to
think of the devil and of hell, as we now do of the stories of ghosts and
witches, which once excited our alarm; and even to associate the inspired
descriptions of heavenly glory, with gorgeous fables of streets of gold,
and palaces of emerald, which we have read of in the volumes of eastern
fiction.
Nor is this all the
imaginary picture. God forbid that it should be the fate of any of us.
But, my friends, it is too true a sketch of the feelings of not a few who
have been brought up to acknowledge the gospel, but whose repeated
violations of the law of God, have driven them to the fearful expedient of
pacifying conscience, by the rejection of that book which the Almighty has
been pleased to send us, as a revelation of his will; and sometimes, by
the denial of the existence of the Eternal himself.
You see then, my friends,
that at our time of life, we are exposed, from a variety of causes, to
great danger; and even if we have received a religious education, it alone
will not guard us from the evil that is in the world. The great question
with each of us should be, "How shall a young man cleanse his way?" The
same inspired writer who proposes the question, gives us also its answer;
"By taking heed thereto according to the word!’ If we would take heed to
our ways according to the word of God, we must know what that word is; and
in order to this, we must not only read, but search the Scriptures. The
study of the Sacred Scriptures then, will form the chief part of the
business of our meetings. As to what plan we ought to adopt in attempting
this, I acknowledge to you I feel considerable difficulty. The persons
whose attention I wish chiefly to engage, are not children, or I should at
once decide upon prescribing a passage to be committed to memory, and
examining them on what had been thus prepared, with a view to interest the
scholar in its meaning. But you are not children, and I wish to treat you
as men. If any of yourselves have any plan to propose, I shall be glad to
listen to it, and consider its merits.
In the mean time I shall
humbly propose the plan which seems to me most eligible. I shall propose a
certain subject, and ask such of you as choose to search the Scriptures,
for passages connected with it. These you will mark, and be prepared to
read. If any difficulty occurs to any of you in the passages you meet
with, I shall be glad to explain it if I can; or, if not, to take it into
consideration. Remarks on the different verses may occur to me as you
read, which I shall make in as plain and familiar a manner as possible. I
shall study at home the same subject which you are considering, and shall
choose some passage connected with it, from which, after we have gone over
your passages, I propose to deliver a very short address.
Let me remind you, however,
that all we can do to obtain a correct knowledge of the Scriptures, and to
attend to our way according to the dictates of inspired wisdom, will prove
utterly vain, unless we are assisted with power from on high — unless we
are enlightened by that Spirit, whose office it is to take of the things
of Christ, and show them unto men. The most far-sighted and acute
discerner of earthly things, is a blind man with regard to divine things.
Let me entreat you then, seriously and fervently to offer up the petition
we have read this evening: "Open thou mine eyes!" One word before I
conclude, about the spirit we ought to manifest at these meetings. Let it
be a spirit of deep humility. To know our own ignorance, and to be willing
to learn from every one, are the first steps toward the acquisition of
wisdom, whether earthly or heavenly. There is none of us so wise, but he
may learn something from the rest; and none so ignorant but we may all
learn something from him. And from this let me just remark, that if any of
your friends, more advanced in life, shall condescend to honour us with
their presence, and to listen to our exercises, they shall always receive
a hearty ‘Welcome.’ If they know the truth, as it is in Jesus, they will
rejoice to see their children seeking the way to Zion; and if they know it
not, they may receive knowledge even at this little meeting, for which
they may bless God through the ages of eternity.
May I allude, before
concluding, to the distressing state of our native land from the
stagnation of trade? "Shall there be evil in the city, and the Lord hath
not done it?" We may depend upon it, that God does not afflict our country
for nought. We may not be able to determine the cause for which these
calamities have been sent, but that there is a cause, we may rest assured.
And what, I ask, is more likely to bring the scourge of divine vengeance
upon a nation, than its own iniquities? It were well if men would listen
to the voice of Providence, which now speaks so loudly in every part of
our land; and that, when the judgments of the Lord are abroad on the
earth, men would learn righteousness.
The following is one of his
short addresses to his class of young men, after it was formed —
AN ADDRESS TO HIS CLASS.
"Happy is the man that
findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding," &o. — Prov. iii.
13-19.
It would be a very
reasonable question for any of you to put to me to-night, "What has been
your object in calling us together?" And I think I should speak the
sincere language of my heart, in answering, "My object simply is to try to
make you happy." Could I succeed in convincing you, that this is really my
design, and that I have rational expectations of accomplishing it; I know
that I should secure the willing attendance, and the earnest attention of
all whose circumstances do not absolutely forbid them. Every one wishes to
be happy. However different may be the pursuits in which men engage, and
however diversified the objects on which they set their affections, this
is the great sum of their desires, and this the point to which all their
efforts tend. Every one of you feels the truth of this statement. You are
all seeking after happiness; and yet, were I to question each one of you
on this subject, I dare say I should receive the same answer from all,
that this great object of your wishes has not yet been obtained. There is
still another point in which I may venture to say, you all agree. And this
is, "that though you have not yet found this object of your wishes, you
have the expectation, that at some future period it will be obtained." The
most miserable has this expectation. Take it away, and you leave a man in
despair.
You feel then, that at
present, you are not quite happy. Many of you may feel yourselves to be
very miserable. You earnestly desire to be happy; and you have some vague
hope, that at some time or other, you will be so.
This is a subject then,
which is interesting to all of you. It is interesting to those who are
most careless and indifferent about everything else. And yet, though a
subject of such universal interest, there is perhaps no subject on which
men have differed so widely. Why have we so many different characters in
the world? It is just because men have such different notions of what will
make them happy.
One man thinks, if he were
rich, he would be happy, and he gives all his diligence to accomplish this
object. He becomes rich, and in all probability, is more wretched than
before. This is such a common idea, that we may be required to dwell on it
a little longer. Especially in times like the present, it is most natural
for him who labours hard for the pittance that barely furnishes the
necessaries of life, to think that ease and plenty are all that is
necessary to constitute true happiness. But you have only to come in
contact with the rich, to know how different is the fact. I have said,
that I wish to make you happy, and that I have rational expectations of
accomplishing it. Some, I doubt not, would think it a good proof of the
sincerity of my assertions, were I able and willing to lavish among you
the good things of this life. This you know to be impossible; but, were my
ability and my benevolence as unbounded as this supposition would require,
I should feel that I had miserably failed to fulfil the expectations which
I might have excited. No; wealth does not constitute happiness. Riches
cannot give peace of mind; and, without this, what avails all bodily ease
and luxury.
Some again, have affected
to despise wealth, and have sought for encouragement in what have been
deemed more dignified pursuits. But all have proved alike unsatisfactory.
There is a want, a longing for something more, when the world has given
all that it can. There is one who had tried all the means of happiness
this world can afford, who gives it as the testimony of his experience,
that "all is vanity and vexation of spirit." And I believe, in the moments
of sober thought, this is the feeling of every individual in looking back
upon the past. All has been unsatisfying. Expectations of happiness have
been cruelly disappointed; and, if there have been a few hours of
pleasure, they have been but few, and have often left the sting of
remorse, or the bitterness of grief behind them. There may have been
gleams of enjoyment which appeared but to vanish: but anything like
lasting and satisfying happiness has not been experienced. And yet, with
all that is unsatisfactory in the experience of the past, there is a
strange delusion that still hangs over the future. In spite of experience,
men will still hope to find that happiness which has hitherto deceived
their expectations. We will not believe that earth cannot give it. The
child looks forward to the frolics of boyhood, and the boy to the freedom
and the pleasures of youth. The youth enters on speculations of gain or
ambition, and the accomplishment of these will perfect his happiness.
Manhood has not brought the longed-for satisfaction, but it has not ceased
to expect it. Still we will look to the future for happiness, till we have
no future to look to. And often, the nearer the end approaches, the
stronger is the delusion. And it is thus that many of us slumber on from
childhood to grey hairs, still dreaming of an imaginary bliss, which, in
spite of all experience, we will not believe to be imaginary; ever
deceived, and yet ever willing to be deceived again. And it is thus, alas,
that too many slumber on, pleased with the deceitful vision, till the
voice of death awakes them to the dread reality.
And is there, then, no such
thing as happiness! Or, if there be, how are we to find it? If riches and
honours, and fame, and learning and pleasure, have deceived the
expectations of those who trusted to them for happiness, must we give up
the search? There is such a thing as true enjoyment, and there is a way of
finding it, which is patent to us all. The meanest, yea, the vilest have
found it before us, and we need not despair. God has been pleased to "show
us the path of life;" and if many have sunk to the grave
without attaining the object of their wishes, it is because they would
listen to the dictates of their own depraved propensities, rather than to
the voice of their Creator. O let us not imitate so sad an example! Let us
turn to the Bible, and be directed by it in this the most interesting of
all inquiries.
He, to whom I have before
alluded, as having tried all earthly things, and pronounced them "vanity;"
while writing under the influence of the Divine Spirit, has the following
words "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom," &c. Prov. iii. 13-19. This
points directly to the subject of our inquiries. It is ours, then, humbly
to investigate what may be the meaning of the words, and to receive it as
an intimation from Him who knoweth all things, who cannot be deceived, and
who cannot lie.
It is evident, then, that
the sense of the passage depends mainly upon the meaning we give to the
words, "wisdom" and "understanding," If these are to be
understood in the sense in which they generally pass current among us, the
passage will seem at variance with the general remarks we have made about
the unsatisfactory nature--of all earthly things. It is true, the pursuits
of learning and science are productive of a higher and a purer pleasure,
than the gross and degrading gratification of avarice or sensuality. But
still there are many called wise, whose wisdom has failed to make them
happy. This, therefore, cannot be the meaning of the words. The Bible is
never at variance with facts. Accordingly, we find the very author of our
text bearing witness to the unsatisfactory nature of mere earthly wisdom.
(Eccles. i. 16, to the end.) If ever the wisdom of any man could afford
happiness, the wisdom of the wisest must have done so. But you have heard
him rank it with the other unsatisfactory vanities of earth. We are told
of the uncertainty of riches; and, therefore we are exhorted "not to
labour to be rich." It is added in the same verse "Cease from thine own
wisdom." Prov. xxiii. 4.
What then is the meaning of
those interestng words, which form the chief ingredients of that
happiness, after which all are seeking? They are not used in their
ordinary sense: for, in that case, the passage would not be true, and
would stand at variance with other parts of Scripture. It is always the
safest way of interpreting Scripture language, and especially those
phrases which are peculiar to Scripture, when we can make the divine word
its own interpreter. If you turn to the twenty-eighth verse of the
twenty-eighth chapter of Job, you will have a beautiful illustration of
what I mean. There the very same words occur, which are found in our text,
accompanied with a full and explicit explanation, "Behold the fear of the
Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil, is understanding." "The
fear of the Lord," you know, is a common expression in Scripture for
true religion. It indicates a feeling of the profoundest reverence,
mingled with adoring love, which is the right state of. mind in which a
creature should regard his Creator. To be truly happy, then, we must be
truly religious. The understanding that is mentioned, is a
departure from evil. This too, is an ingredient of happiness, and is
the consequent of the former. True happiness is inseparably connected with
holiness.
You will say, This is no
new discovery. We have been often told so. Aye, but have you felt it to be
a truth; and have you acted upon it as a truth? If so, whatever be your
sorrows, you can tell that you have a joy which the world cannot give, and
which it cannot take away. If you have not this joy, you have not yet laid
hold on this true wisdom. Seek for her, for happy is the man that findeth
her.
It appears then, that sin
is the cause of all the misery that is in the world. There is a sense of
guilt and a dread of punishment, which the most careless sometimes feel,
and which must soon burst with overwhelming force upon them in that place
where conscience will be ever awake. How blessed then is he "whose
transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered," &c. (Psalm xxxii.) This
consciousness of guilt must form a great part of the unhappiness of every
one, whose conscience is not seared as with a hot iron. In the gospel then
there is a remedy for this. The blessedness mentioned in the Psalm may be
ours, if we believe that Christ died for our sins. But the misery arising
from a sense of guilt, is not the only misery connected with sin; nor is
it this which constitutes the main part of the unhappiness of mankind. An
awakened conscience has driven many to despair, and the thinking part of
mankind are often oppressed by the unwelcome intrusions of its warning
voice. But the gay, unthinking multitude, who never reflect, and who never
think of futurity,—are they oppressed with a sense of guilt? They often
are. And yet is it true, that many dance along from the cradle to the
grave in whom the past has excited no remorse, and the future no anxiety.
And yet these were not happy. They roved from pleasure to pleasure,
seeking what they could not obtain. Their very love of novelty, showed
that the last amusement could amuse no longer. They have sunk to the
grave, and they are miserable now. There is a misery then connected with
sin, independent of a sense of guilt, or rather, I should say, Sin
itself is misery. It is sin which has stamped vanity on all the means
of happiness which the world presents. It is sin which has mingled
bitterness with every earthly pleasure. In this view of the matter, every
sinner must be unhappy, and that independent of the torments of
conscience, or the foreboding of torments greater still. Misery must be
mingled up with his very existence, and every enjoyment must be embittered
by the principle of unhappiness which is in his own breast. One of the
scripture names of the devil, means the self tormentor; and the
appellation is applicable, in a certain degree, to every worker of
iniquity. This is evidently the deadliest wound sin has given, but the
religion of the Bible has a cure for this too.
In the gospel we are
offered pardon, and this can disarm conscience and take the sting from
death. But this is not all. We must be purified, as well as pardoned, ere
our salvation be complete. The natural consequence of sin, is punishment
proportioned to the enormity of the crime; a full pardon frees us from all
the overwhelming consequences of our guilt. But sin itself is a
punishment; and, so long as we are sinners, no pardon, however full or
free, can save us from this punishment. While we remain depraved and
unholy, we must be unhappy. A change of character then is the only hope of
deliverance. And for this, most ample means are provided in the gospel of
Christ. The very history of that atonement which procured our pardon, has
a tendency while we meditate upon it, to promote our holiness. While we
look to Christ, we are made like him. While we behold that glory with
unveiled faces, we are changed into the same image from glory to glory. It
is by believing in Christ then, and thinking much of his person and his
history, that we shall find that wisdom, and get that understanding, which
shall make us truly happy. For thus shall we fear the Lord, in the sense
of that term; and thus too shall we be led to depart from evil.