SERMON IV. SERMONS ON REVELATION. SERMON II. MAN CANNOT FIND OUT A RELIGION WHICH WILL JOB XXviii. 12, 13. "Where shall wisdom be found, and where is the place of understanding? "Man knoweth not the price thereof, neither is it found in the land of the living." An intelligent and sober man, surveying himself and the objects around him, would very naturally form a series of reflections like the following: "Whence and what am I? How came I to be, to be what, “and where I am? My frame is a complication of wonders, utterly surpassing my comprehension. It is alive. What is "that life, and whence derived? It can move. What is the "cause of its motions? It is the medium through which I re"ceive an endless multitude of senations, both pleasurable and painful. By what mysterious power does it become the me"dium? I can think and choose; I can imagine and feel; I "can hope and fear; I can love and hate; I can enjoy and "suffer. In what manner are these wonderful affections pro"duced? "I am placed in a world full of wonders. The vegetable, the J 66 66 animal, and the mineral kingdoms are replenished with objects "of a marvellous nature; effects which I can understand very "imperfectly, and causes which I can scarcely understand at all. "Yet I can distinctly perceive that they are extensively fitted "for the use of man, and appear as if they were intended, to a great extent at least, to contribute to the comfort of myself " and my fellow men. But what are we? For what end were "we made? for there are so visible and numerous proofs of con"trivance, and of such wonderful contrivance in both the body "and mind of man, that it is irrational, and seems to be impos"sible not to conclude that we were made. Who, and what is "He, by whom we were made? How plainly must his nature "transcend all such comprehension as mine? In the contem 66 plation of such power, wisdom, and agency as I see displayed "in myself, and in all things which are presented to my view, "I am lost in astonishment. For what purpose was I made? “I, and all other men must soon go to the grave. Shall I "then perish; or shall I survive the tomb, and re-exist in fu"ture periods of endless duration? Of what incomprehensi"ble importance are those questions? Who can answer "them ?" "If man is destined to be immortal, and may be happy "throughout eternity, what measures shall he undertake to "ensure his happiness? Where, how, with whom shall he "exist? What will be his circumstances? How shall he "act, so as to make all these things desirable when he shall "arrive in the future world ?" Thoughts like these have probably passed through the mind of every man possessed of the character which I have mentioned. Not improbably they may often have engrossed his deepest attention; awakened anxiety and alarm; produced perplexity; forced the thoughts to wander into the eternal world to explore, with distressing solicitude, the character and designs of God; and to ask, "What will become of me, when "my soul shall be separated from my body." "Where," he will irresistibly exclaim, "shall the wisdom be found, which "shall make me acceptable to God? Where is the place of that understanding which will enable me effectually to pro "vide for the wants of my future being? Man certainly "knoweth not the price thereof, for its value is beyond all price; neither is it found in the land of the living, for such 66 66 a discovery would have filled the world with astonishment "and rapture, and the tidings must have vibrated through "every nation, and every succeeding age of man." I have already stated several difficulties which have prevented mankind from discovering a religion capable of rendering them acceptable to God. It is now my design to consider this subject with respect to several other things which may be considered as fundamental, and which, if I mistake not, will, when fairly examined, prove the doctrine beyond all reasonable doubt. In this examination I shall pursue the scheme adopted in a former discourse, and shall consider that which man can do concerning this all-important subject, as being what man has already done. It would be idle here to enter into abstract speculations concerning the possible extent of the powers of man. After all the laborious efforts which have been made, and made with every advantage, it is perfect trifling to inquire whether there may not be hereafter some superior mind, or a mind possessed of some superior advantages, by which this mighty discovery may be more successfully made. Cicero's remark is here plainly conclusive, "That it makes no differ66 ence whether no man is wise, or whether no man can be "wise." Still I propose, for the purpose of producing a greater satisfaction in the minds of my audience, to inquire into the nature of the case; and in the course of this inquiry shall attempt to show, that reason cannot possibly make this discovery, and to exhibit the real grounds of this impossibility. Towards the accomplishment of this purpose I observe generally, That our duty cannot be performed, unless it is known ; That it cannot be known, unless our relations to the beings, to whom our duties are owed, be known; and That these relations cannot be known, unless the nature, character, and circumstances of these beings, out of which all these relations rise, and on which they all depend, be also known. These propositions, it is presumed, will be admitted, since they cannot be denied without violence to reason. It will be the particular design of this discourse to show, that the several things which I have specified, are unknown. Should this be evinced, it will follow that our duty, so far, must be unknown; and that whatever might be acquired from the performance of our duty, must be unattainable, unless we can desire the knowledge of it from some other source than the exercise of our reason. In support of this scheme, I observe, I. That reason, left to itself, cannot understand the nature of God. Simonides, having been asked by Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, What God was? requested a day's time to consider the subject. At the end of this period, instead of returning an answer he requested two more; at the end of these four, and at the end of all, answered, that he was unable to tell. Every man, who looks into his own bosom, will distinctly perceive, that as face answereth to face in the water, so does his mind to that of the philosopher. No words will be necessary to convince him of his own ignorance of this great and mysterious Being. If he makes serious efforts to analyze His character, he will find his difficulties substantially the same with those which met the eye of Simonides; and will feel that he needs, not a few days, not a few years, not a single life, but many lives, and many centuries, to acquire satisfactory views concerning this unfathomable subject. After all his labours, after all his anxieties, he will find himself compelled to address to his own soul the language of Zophar to Job, "Canst thou by "searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty "unto perfection? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know? The measure "thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." What is thus irresistibly proved by every man in his own serious attempts to investigate the subject, is, in the most de cisive manner, also evident from facts. Reason has never been able to determine whether there has been one God, or two, or many. The conduct of men in this respect has been very remarkable. Imagination has formed the gods of reason or philosophy. The process appears to have been this :-The common people, amid the various displays of the divine presence and agency in the natural world, which made strong impressions on their imaginations, fastened upon one and another as peculiar objects of veneration, connecting with them various traditional doctrines and stories in an association, which became ultimately permanent. From reverencing God in these objects, they came ultimately and speedily to reverence the objects themselves as gods. From believing that God was peculiarly manifested in these objects, they soon came to fancy that each of the objects was a god. When they had once attributed to them this character; the poets, in the wanton indulgence of imagination, also added to their origin and character innumerable suggestions, made by an excursive mind, concerning their employments, their stations, their powers, and their connection with men. In this situation they were taken up by the philosophers. There is no solid ground for believing, that the reason of these men at all lessened the number, or materially improved the character of the deities, transmitted to them by the fancy of their predecessors. Of the three hundred Jupiters, or supreme gods of philosophy, it is originally and mathematically certain, that all must be false except one. A glance of the eye proves that one equally false; because fraught with gross and miserable imperfections. It is scarcely necessary to observe at the present time, that the debates of philosophy about the substance of God, his manner of existence, the attributes, and his providence, were endless. Nothing could more clearly prove the difficulties which, to human beings, attend the subject than these debates, and the diversity and contrariety of opinion which they unfold. Had the divine character been obvious to the reason of man, it is impossible that he should have found the object of his worship in the sun, the moon, the planets, and the stars; in the four elements; in the world at large; in living and dead |