trifling and venial. But an useless, extravagant, and luxurious life is manifestly condemned, and fated to terminate in everlasting destruction. He enjoyed his good things here, and Lazarus with evil things was afflicted; but in the issue, the latter is comforted, and himself sorely tormented. You cannot, Brethren, require a more convincing proof, that God hath set bounds to our gratifications, over which man must not pass, or only pass to ensure an eternity, in which to weep and lament, to writhe in anguish and shudder in despair. The third class of sinful pleasures are those, which, however virtuous in themselves, fail to obtain the approbation of heaven owing to the disposition, with which they are embraced and pursued. My meaning is, that as enjoyed by some, they are vicious, and by others, virtuous; although to the human eye there is no shade of difference, and no symptom of excess. I have already remarked upon the pleasures derived from the domestick relations, and, as an abstract proposition, it would be the height of folly to contend, that we should not dearly love such as are united to us by the nuptial and kindred ties. It is rather concordant with nature, and with the word of God. "Husbands love your wives." "Ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." Suppose however, that the affections of a man are altogether engrossed by his family connexions; suppose, and I apprehend it is a very common case, that he loves them better than he loves his God; the Father, who made him; the Son, who redeemed; the Holy Ghost, whose office it is to sanctify all the people of God: Is this right? Is this being holy, harmless, and undefiled? Assuredly, Brethren, most assuredly, sin lieth at that door. An innocent passion becomes the opposite, because it stands alone; because it is selfish and improvident, unaccompanied by gratitude to the founder of families, an intenser glow of devotion towards him, who hath said, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me." And thus, precisely thus, with every other kind of virtuous pleasure. This passage furnishes the principle upon which to estimate the real merits of our domestick attachments, and the text speaks a similar language in reference to whatever else can properly allure the mind or ravish the senses. They, that are lovers of pleasures, far the greatest in number and variety, far the richest and purest in their nature, are not sinful on this account. God the rather approves it. He hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servants. But they are sinful, because they are lovers of pleasures MORE than lovers of God. MORE, you perceive, is the comparative and the emphatick word. So that, if you show me the man, who prefers Him, whose favour is life, whose loving kindness is better than the life, who prefers Him to every thing else; I care not what are his pleasures, or with what eagerness they are pursued. It is morally impossible, but that they are innocent, free from every stain of guilt, and without offence. He cannot at the same time love God and love sin. Under other circumstances, he would be a sinner, though apparently pure and spotless; though you could not charge one vice upon him, nor detect the smallest impropriety in the nature, the manner, or the time of his amusements. But God, who searcheth the heart, and trieth the reins, is fully aware of his inward predilections. He does not object to his fondness for the social circle; to the ardour with which he follows his occupation in life; to the taste he exhibits for letters and philosophy; to the cheerfulness and hilarity with which he enters upon his daily round of recreations, corporeal and mental. But he objects, that these legitimate pleasures are not entertained in subordination to the love of him; that their votary thirsts for them, transient and summary as they are, more than he thirsts for him, the living God; that completely absorbed in them, he cannot say with the holy David," As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." Yes, Brethren, here is the grand distinction to be observed on this much abused and ill debated subject. A sinner goes forth to his pleasures with his whole soul bereft of every other thought. He eats and drinks with no saying or feeling of grace to the Lord. Awake or asleep, he is alike dead to his love and reckless of his bounty. Walking or riding, talking or musing, reading or writing, self is the idol of his affections; self is connected, in some way or other, with all his emotions, and all his pursuits. God is not in all his thoughts, or is only permitted to dwell for a moment there, unhonoured and unglorified by serious meditation, by devout aspira tions, by grateful reminiscences, and therefore he remains a sinner. But the Christian uses this world as not abusing it. He has a hymn of praise for every delight, a tribute of thanks for every blessing. He enjoys the fair face of nature; he participates of the good cheer and the hospitable board; he meets his friends with the smile of welcome, and the heart of sympathy; he takes up an amusing volume, and peruses it with lively interest; and still in these, and all other pleasures, he knows full well, that they only endure for a time; that they cannot save the soul alive; that they are embraced by him with undiminished affection for his God and Saviour; and therefore he remains a Christian, therefore his heart, faithful and sincere, still fondly turns to the divine fountain, whence all the various streams of joy are commissioned to flow. With the preceding remarks, dismissing a rapid survey of the second branch of the discourse; another general inquiry may be summed up in the question, Are there any pleasures, which are either innocent or sinful according to circumstances, involving for example the consideration of time and place? I am very free to reply in the affirmative, and am no less confident than free. Amusements, that would be proper and harmless in most places, are highly offensive and blameworthy in the temples of God. These are entirely unsuited to levity or diversion. While the congregation are engaged in their devotions, while the preacher is occupied in delivering the truths of the everlasting gospel, for individuals, as the manner of some has been, to be employed in whispering and even conversing aloud, in opening and even reading other volumes than those appropriated to our solemn service, is not merely a breach of decorum, towards the worshippers of God in his holy temple, but also a direct affront levelled at the majesty and glory of God himself. It is irreverent in its nature, faithless in principle, and disgusting in practice. "How dreadful is this place! This is none "Draw other but the house of God and this is the gate of heaven." not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." These are the declarations of the bible, and consequently every look, every attitude, every gesture, every expression, militating with them, betray either thoughtless folly or spiritual unconcern. Here every muscle should be composed in solemnity, and every spirit subdued in devotion. "O come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord our Maker." Curiosity should not bring us here; we should come to praise and pray, to listen and improve; our attendance should be early, and the disgraceful practice of retiring, before the services are concluded, held in just abhorrence. "Keep thy FOOT when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear than to give the sacrifice of fools: for they consider not that they do evil.” Similar remarks apply to the sabbath day. It is as much, ay, it is more profaned by amusement, than it is by labour. And yet, how many refrain from business, who refrain not from finding their own pleasure, often as it returns to remind us of the Lord of the sabbath, and of the publick homage he now requires of all, that are fed by his bounty and protected by his care. By some, it is wasted in idleness and languid ease; by others, in needless visits, in "foolish talking and jesting, which are not convenient." Others again, soon as the rising sun prognosticates a fair and pleasant day, immediately plan an excursion for recreation and merriment. They are not satisfied with what the preceding week has enabled them to enjoy. They must encroach on sacred hours, and contribute, all in their power, to obliterate from the memory of man, this standing and authentick memorial of divine revelation, of the truth of our religion, of the existence of a Being highly exalted above all principalities and powers; alone deserving our adoration and praise; alone worthy to be had in perpetual remembrance. But these things ought not so to be. There is no mere worldly enjoyment, that is in the smallest degree adapted to the duties of the holy sab bath. Though it may be sinless at other times, it is sinful now. Though it may escape present retribution, there is a day approaching, when for all these things God will certainly bring the transgressor into judgment; when he will visit him with the rod of his anger, and consume him with his hot displeasure. Our final inquiry will be directed to those pleasures, which are evidently entitled to be considered the wisest and the best. What are they? I contend that they are such as are spiritual and heavenly. All others come to an end. They transcend not the confines of the grave. When a few more years are come, it will be nothing to us, whether we lived in prosperity or in adversity; whether we were fanned by the breeze or ruffled by the storm; whether we lived with the wife of our youth, and the offspring of mutual love, or early buried them, far from sight and hearing, beneath the clods of the valley. In the case of the righteous, the morn of the resurrection will tranquilize every sorrow, and equalize every joy. Their fate hereafter is not determined by the lights and shadows of time. There the pious rich and poor meet together, alike rich in God's grace and mercy, alike removed from the vicissitudes of life, and clothed with the garments of salvation. Give me then, O God, exclaims the Christian, a relish for pleasures allied to results so glorious and divine, and I will esteem them of more value than my necessary food; of more intrinsick worth than all else, that the eye can covet, or the heart desire. Sooner than fail to obtain them, I am content to be poor and needy, afflicted and chastened, desolate and forsaken. I long for thee, O God; my soul doth wait for thee, as a thirsty land for the refreshing dew and genial shower. Oh! shed abroad the light of thy countenance upon me, and give me the help of thine arm, to lead me on the road to heaven. Nothing indeed can be more futile or preposterous, than the commonly received opinions upon the influence of Christianity. It is thought to interpose an insuperable barrier to all real enjoyment; to be clad in black and enveloped in clouds; to be dismal and gloomy, mournful and melancholy, with every other epithet adapted to express the sorrows of a wounded spirit and a drooping heart. But, while it is suited to every temporal source of felicity, how obvious on a little reflection must it be, that the pursuit of those pleasures is necessarily productive of the greatest gratification, which are known to continue through life, and after life to last forever. And these are the pleasures of religion. Christians feel, that they have a mansion prepared for them in heaven. Can this give them pain? They are conscious, that in its bright abodes, there will be no stinted joys, no scanty measure of enduring bliss. Is this likely to move their souls to sadness? As well and better might you doubt the happiness of an infant sheltered by the maternal arms, or the felicity of a bride upon her nuptial morn. No, no, there are none on earth to compare with the righteous in the elevation of their hopes, and the brightness of their presentiments. "Fired at the prospect of unclouded bliss, "The glorious dawn of our eternal day." |