Page images
PDF
EPUB

in the description of this, we will not take it from the worst originals, such as are open merely for the sale of virtue, and so calculated for the end, that the disguise each is under not only gives power safely to drive on the bargain, but safely to carry it into execution too.

This we will not suppose to be the case; nor let us even imagine the house of feasting to be such a scene of intemperance and excess as the house of feasting does often exhibit; but let us take it from one as little exceptionable as we can-where there is, or at least appears, nothing really criminal, but where everything seems to be kept within the visible bounds of moderation and sobriety.

Imagine, then, such a house of feasting, where, either by consent or invitation, a number of each sex is drawn together for no other purpose but the enjoyment and mutual entertainment of each other, which we will suppose shall arise from no other pleasures but what custom authorises, and religion does not absolutely forbid.

Before we enter, let us examine what must be the sentiments of each individual previous to his arrival, and we shall find, however they may differ from one another in tempers and opinions, that every one seems to agree in this, that, as he is going to a house dedicated to joy and mirth, it was fit he should divest himself of whatever was likely to contradict that intention, or be inconsistent with it. That for this purpose he had left his cares, his serious thoughts, and his moral reflections, behind him; and was come forth from home with only such dispositions and gaiety of heart as suited the occasion, and promoted the intended mirth and jollity of the place. With this preparation of mind, which is as little as can be supposed, since it will amount to no more than a desire in each to render himself an acceptable guest, let us conceive them entering into the house of feasting, with hearts set loose from grave restraints, and open to the expectations of receiving pleasure. It is not necessary, as I premised, to bring intemperance into this scene, or to suppose such an excess in the gratification of the appetites as shall ferment the blood and set the desires in a flame. Let us admit no more of it, therefore, than will gently stir them, and fit them for the impressions which so benevolent a commerce will naturally excite. In this disposition, thus wrought upon beforehand, and already improved to this purpose, take notice how mechanically the thoughts and spirits rise; how soon and insensibly they are got above the pitch and first bounds which cooler hours would have marked.

When the gay and smiling aspect of things has begun to leave the passages to a man's heart thus thoughtlessly unguarded; when kind and caressing looks of every object without, that can flatter his senses, have conspired with the enemy within to betray him, and put him off his de

fence; when music likewise hath lent her aid, and tried her power upon the passions; when the voice of singing men, and the voice of singing women, with the sound of the viol and the lute, have broken in upon his soul, and in some tender notes have touched the secret springs of rapture, that moment let us dissect and look into his heart-see how vain! how weak! how empty a thing it is! Look through its several recesses, those pure mansions formed for the reception of innocence and virtue: sad spectacle! Behold those fair inhabitants now dispossessed-turned out of their sacred dwellings, to make room-for what? At the best, for levity and indiscretion; perhaps for folly; it may be for more impure guests, which possibly, in so general a riot of the mind and senses, may take occasion to enter unsuspected at the same time.

In a scene and disposition thus described, can the most cautious say, Thus far shall my desires go, and no further? or will the coolest and most circumspect say, when pleasure has taken full possession of his heart, that no thought nor purpose shall arise there which he would have concealed? In those loose and unguarded moments, the imagination is not always at command; in spite of reason and reflection, it will forcibly carry him sometimes whither he would not-like the unclean spirit, in the parent's sad description of his child's case, which took him, and ofttimes cast him into the fire to destroy him; and wheresoever it taketh him it teareth him, and hardly departeth from him.

But this, you'll say, is the worst account of what the mind may suffer here.

Why may we not make more favourable suppositions? that numbers, by exercise and custom to such encounters, learn gradually to despise and triumph over them; that the minds of many are not so susceptible of warm impressions, or so badly fortified against them, that pleasure should easily corrupt or soften them; that it would be hard to suppose, of the great multitudes which daily throng and press into this house of feasting, but that numbers come out of it again with all the innocence with which they entered; and that if both sexes are included in the computation, what fair example shall we see of many of so pure and chaste a turn of mind that the house of feasting, with all its charms and temptations, was never able to excite a thought or awaken an inclination which virtue need to blush at, or which the most scrupulous conscience might not support. God forbid we should say otherwise. numbers of all ages escape unhurt, and get off this dangerous sea without shipwreck. Yet are they not to be reckoned amongst the more fortunate adventurers? and though one would not absolutely prohibit the attempt, or be so cynical as to condemn every one who tries it, since there are so many, I suppose, who cannot well do otherwise, and whose condition and situation

No doubt,

in life unavoidably force them upon it, yet we may be allowed to describe this fair and flattering coast, we may point out the unsuspected dangers of it, and warn the unwary passenger where they lie. We may show him what hazards his youth and inexperience will run, how little he can gain by the venture, and how much wiser and better it would be (as is implied in the text) to seek occasions rather to improve his little stock of virtue than incautiously expose it to so unequal a chance, where the best he can hope is to return safe with what treasure he carried out, but where probably he may be so unfortunate as to lose it all, be lost himself, and undone for ever.

Thus much for the house of feasting; which, by the way, though generally open at other times of the year throughout the world, is supposed, in Christian countries, now everywhere to be universally shut up. And, in truth, I have been more full in my cautions against it, not only as reason requires, but in reverence to this season, wherein our Church exacts a more particular forbearance and self-denial in this point, and thereby adds to the restraints upon pleasure and entertainments which this representation of things has suggested against them already.

*

engage it to the consideration of the miseries and misfortunes, the dangers and calamities to which the life of man is subject. By holding up such a glass before it, it forces the mind to see and reflect upon the vanity-the perishing condition and uncertain tenure of everything in this world. From reflections of this serious cast, how insensibly do the thoughts carry us further; and from considering what we are, what kind of world we live in, and what evils befall us in it, how naturally do they set us to look forwards at what possibly we shall be; for what kind of world we are intended; what evils may befall us there; and what provision we should make against them here, whilst we have time and opportunity.

If these lessons are so inseparable from the house of mourning here supposed, we shall find it a still more instructive school of wisdom when we take a view of the place in that more affecting light in which the wise man seems to confine it in the text, in which, by the house of mourning, I believe he means that particular scene of sorrow where there is lamentation and mourning for the dead.

Turn in hither, I beseech you, for a moment. Behold a dead man ready to be carried out, the only son of his mother, and she a widow. Perhaps a more affecting spectacle-a kind and indulgent father of a numerous family lies breathless-snatched away in the strength of his age-torn in an evil hour from his children and the bosom of a disconsolate wife.

Behold much people of the city gathered together to mix their tears, with settled sorrow in their looks, going heavily along to the house of mourning, to perform that last melancholy office which, when the debt of nature is paid, we are called upon to pay to each other.

Here, then, let us turn aside from this gay scene; and suffer me to take you with me for a moment to one much fitter for your meditation. Let us go into the house of mourning, made so by such afflictions as have been brought in merely by the common cross accidents and disasters to which our condition is exposed-where, perhaps, the aged parents sit broken-hearted, pierced to their souls with the folly and indiscretion of a thankless child-the child of their prayers, in whom all their hopes and expectations centred perhaps a more affecting scenea virtuous family lying pinched with want, where the unfortunate support of it, having long struggled with a train of misfortunes, and bravely fought up against them, is now piteously borne down at the last, overwhelmed with a cruel blow which no forecast or frugality could have prevented. O God! look upon his afflic-him from one diverting object to another-see tions. Behold him distracted with many sorrows, surrounded with the tender pledges of his love and the partner of his cares, without bread to give them, unable, from the remembrance of better days, to dig; to beg, ashamed.

When we enter into the house of mourning such as this, it is impossible to insult the unfortunate, even with an improper look. Under whatever levity and dissipation of heart such objects catch our eyes, they catch likewise our attentions, collect and call home our scattered thoughts, and exercise them with wisdom. A transient scene of distress, such as is here sketched, how soon does it furnish materials to set the mind at work; how necessarily does it

* Preached in Lent.

If this sad occasion, which leads him there, has not done it already, take notice to what a serious and devout frame of mind every man is reduced, the moment he enters this gate of affliction. The busy and fluttering spirits which in the house of mirth were wont to transport

how they are fallen; how peaceably they are laid. In this gloomy mansion, full of shades and uncomfortable damps to seize the soul-see the light and easy heart which never knew what it was to think before, how pensive it is now, how soft, how susceptible, how full of religious impressions, how deeply it is smitten with sense and with a love of virtue. Could we, in this crisis, whilst this empire of reason and religion lasts, and the heart is thus exercised with wisdom, and busied with heavenly contemplations

could we see it naked as it is-stripped of its passions, unspotted by the world, and regardless of its pleasures-we might then safely rest our cause upon this single evidence, and appeal to the most sensual, whether Solomon has not made a just determination here, in favour of the

house of mourning; not for its own sake, but as it is fruitful in virtue, and becomes the occasion of so much good. Without this end, sorrow, I own, has no use but to shorten a man's days; nor can gravity, with all its studied solemnity

of look and carriage, serve any end but to make one-half of the world merry, and impose upon the other.

Consider what has been said, and may God, of His mercy, bless you! Amen.

GEORGE WHITEFIELD.

1714-1770.

THE WISE AND FOOLISH VIRGINS.* THE apostle to the Hebrews informs us that "it is appointed for all men once to die; after that," says he, "cometh the judgment." And I think, if any consideration be sufficient to awaken a sleeping drowsy world, it must be this: that there will be a day wherein these heavens shall be wrapt up like a scroll-the elements melt with fervent heat-this earth, and all the things therein, be burnt up-and every soul of every nation summoned to appear before the dreadful tribunal of the righteous Judge of quick and dead, to receive rewards or punishments according to the deeds done in their bodies.

highly concern each of us, my brethren, before we come on a bed of sickness, seriously to examime how the account stands between God and our souls, and how it will fare with us in that day? As for the openly profane, the drunkard, the whoremonger, the adulterer, and such like, there is no doubt what will become of them; without repentance they shall never enter into the kingdom of God and His Christ. No, their damnation slumbereth not; a burning fiery Tophet, kindled by the fury of God's eternal wrath, is prepared for their reception, wherein they must suffer the vengeance of an eternal fire. Nor is there the least doubt of the state of true believers; for though they be despised and rejected of natural men, yet, being born again of God, and joint-heirs with Christ, they have the earnest of the promised inheritance in their hearts; they are assured that a new and living way is made open for them by the blood of Jesus Christ, through which an abundant entrance into the kingdom of heaven shall be administered to them at the great day of account. The only question is, what will become of the almost Christian ?-one that is content to go, as he thinks, in the easy middle way to heaven, without being profane on the one hand, or, as he now falsely imagines, righteous overmuch on the other. Multitudes there are in every congregation, and consequently here present, of this stamp. And, what is worst of all, it is easier to convince the most notorious publicans and sinners of their being out of a state of salvation, than any of these almost Christians. And if Jesus Christ may be our Judge, they shall as certainly be rejected and disowned by Him at the last day, as though they lived in an open defiance of all His laws.

The great apostle of the Gentiles, when brought before Felix, could think of no better means to convert that sinful man than to reason of temperance, righteousness, and, more especially, of a judgment to come. The first might, in some measure affect, but I am persuaded it was the last consideration-I mean that of a judgment to come-that made him tremble. And so bad as the world is grown, yet there are few have their consciences seared with a red-hot iron, so as to deny that there will be a reckoning hereafter. The promiscuous dispensations of Providence in this life, wherein we see good men afflicted, destitute, tormented, and the wicked permitted triumphantly to ride over their heads, has been always looked upon as an indisputable argument by the generality of mankind, that there will be a day in which God will judge the world in righteousness, and administer true judgment unto his people. Some, indeed, are so bold as to deny it, whilst they are engaged in the pursuit of the lust of the eye and the pride of life; but follow them to their deathbeds-ask them, when their souls are ready to launch into eternity, what they then think of a judgment to come, and they will tell you they dare not give their consciences the lie any longer. They feel a fearful looking-for of judgment, which He had been discoursing of in the ment, and fiery indignation, in their hearts.

Since, then, these things are so, does it not

* "Watch therefore; for ye know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of man cometh" (Matt. xxv. 13).

[ocr errors]

For what says our Lord in the parable of which my text is a conclusion, and which I intend to make the subject of my present discourse? "Then" (that is, at the day of judg

foregoing chapter, and prosecutes in this) "shall the kingdom of heaven" (that is, the state of Christians in general) "be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the Bridegroom." In which words there is a

manifest allusion to a custom prevailing in our Lord's time among the Jews at marriage solemaities, which, being generally in the night, it was customary for the persons of the bridechamber to go out in procession, with many lights, to meet the bridegroom. By the Bridegroom here you are to understand Jesus Christ. The Church-that is, true believers-are His spouse. He is united to them by one spirit, even in this life; but the solemnising of these sacred nuptials is reserved till the day of judgment, when He shall come to take them home to Himself, and present them, before men and angels, as His purchase, to His Father, without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. By the ten virgins, we are to understand the professors of Christianity in general. All are called virgins, because all are called to be saints. All who name the name of Christ are obliged, by that very profession, to depart from all iniquity. The pure and chaste in heart are the only persons that will be so blessed as to see God. As Christ was born of a virgin's womb, so Christ can dwell in none but virgin souls-souls made pure and holy by the indwelling of His Holy Spirit. But what says the apostle? "All are not Israelites that are of Israel." All are not true Christians that are called after the name of Christ.

"Five of these virgins were wise" that is, true believers-" and five were foolish" —that is, formal hypocrites, whited sepulchres, mere outside professors. But why are five said to be wise, and the other five foolish? Hear what our Lord says in the following verses: "They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them; but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps." "They that were foolish took their lamps;" that is, the lamps of an outward profession; they would go to church, say over several manuals of prayers, come perhaps even into a field to hear a sermon, give at collections, and receive the sacrament constantly, nay, oftener than once a month. But then here lay the mistake; they had no oil in their lamps-no principle of grace, no living faith in their hearts; without which, though we should give all our goods to feed the poor, and our bodies to be burned, it would profit us nothing. In short, they were exact, nay, perhaps, superstitiously bigoted to the form, but all the while they were strangers to, and, in effect, denied the power of godliness in their hearts. They would go to church, but, at the same time, think it no harm to go to a ball or an assembly, notwithstanding they promised at their baptism to renounce the pomps and vanities of this wicked world. They were so exceeding fearful of being righteous over-much, that they would even persecute those that were truly devout, if they attempted to go a step further than themselves. In one word, they never effectually felt the powers of the world to come; they thought they might be Christians without anything of

inward feelings; and, therefore, notwithstanding their high pretensions, they had only a name to live.

And now, sirs, let me pause a while, and, in the name of that God whom I endeavour to serve in the Gospel of His dear Son, give me leave to ask you one question. Whilst I have been drawing, though in miniature, the character of those foolish virgins, have not many of your consciences made the application, and with a small, still, though articulate voice, said, Thou man, thou woman, art one of those foolish virgins, for thy sentiments and practice agree thereto? Do not then stifle, but encourage these convictions, and who knows but that the Lord, who is rich in mercy to all that call upon Him faithfully, may so work upon you, even by this foolishness of preaching, as to make you wise virgins before you return home!

What they were you shall know immediately: "But the wise," says our Lord (verse 4), "took oil in their vessels with their lamps." Observe, "the wise"-that is, the true believers-had their lamps as well as the foolish virgins; for Christianity does not require us to cast off outward forms; we may use forms, and yet not be formal. For instance, it is possible to worship God in a set form of prayer, and yet worship Him in spirit and in truth; and therefore, brethren, let us not judge one another. The wise virgins had their lamps. Herein then did not lie the difference between them, that the one worshipped with a form, and the other did not; no, as the Pharisee and Publican went up to the temple to pray, so these wise and foolish virgins might go to the same place of worship, and sit under the same minister; but then the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. They kept up the form, but did not rest in it. Their words in prayer were the language of their hearts, and they were no strangers to inward feelings; they had savingly tasted the good word of life, and felt, or had an experimental knowledge of the powers of the world to come; they were not afraid of searching doctrine, nor affronted when ministers told them they by nature deserved to be damned; they were not self-righteous, but willing that Jesus Christ should have all the glory of their salvation: they were convinced that the merits of Jesus Christ were to be apprehended only by faith; but yet they were as careful to maintain good works, as though they were to be justified by them. In short, their obedience flowed from love and gratitude, and was cheerful, constant, uniform, and universal, like unto that obedience which the holy angels pay our Father in heaven.

Here, then, let me exhort you to pause again; and, if any of you can faithfully apply these characters to your hearts, give God the glory, and take the comfort to your own souls. are not false, but true believers. Jesus Christ has been made of God to you wisdom, even that

You

wisdom whereby you shall be made wise unto salvation. God sees a difference between you and foolish virgins, if natural men will not. You need not therefore be uneasy, if a like state of misery and mortality happen to you both; I say, a like state of misery and mortality; for (verse 5) "while the Bridegroom tarried," that is, in the space of time which passeth between our Lord's ascension, and His coming again to judgment, "they all slumbered and slept." The wise as well as the foolish died; for dust we all are, and to dust we must return. It is no reflection at all upon the Divine goodness, that believers, as well as hypocrites, must pass through the valley of the shadow of death; for Christ has taken away the sting out of it, so that we need fear no evil. It is to them a passage to everlasting life. Death is only terrible to those that have no hope, because they live without faith, and therefore without God in the world. Whosoever there are amongst you that have received the first fruits of the Spirit, I am persuaded you are ready to cry out with holy Job, "We would not live here always; we long to be dissolved, that we may be with Jesus Christ; and though worms will destroy our bodies as well as others, yet we are content, being assured that our Redeemer liveth, that He will stand at the latter days upon the earth, and that in our flesh we shall see God." But it is not so with hypocrites and unbelievers beyond the grave. For what says our Lord?

"And at midnight." Observe, at midnight, when all was hushed and quiet, and no one dreaming of any such thing, a cry was made; the voice of the archangel, and the trump of God was heard, sounding this general alarm to things in heaven, to things in earth, and to things in the waters under the earth. Behold, mark how this awful summons is ushered in with the word behold, to engage our attention-"Behold the Bridegroom," even Jesus Christ, the Desire of nations, the Bridegroom of His spouse the Church: because He tarried for a while, to exercise the faith of saints, and give sinners space to repent, scoffers were apt to cry out, "Where is the promise of His coming?" But He is not slack concerning His promise, as these men account slackness; for, "Behold, He that was to come is now come, and will not tarry any longer. He cometh to be glorified with His saints, and to take vengeance on them that know not God, and have not obeyed His Gospel." He cometh, not as a poor despised Galilean; not to be stabled in a stinking manger; not to be despised and rejected of men; not to be blindfolded, spit upon, and buffeted; not to be nailed to an accursed tree; not as the Son of Man, but, as He really was, the eternal Son of God. He cometh riding on the wings of the wind, in the glory of the Father and His holy angels, and to be had in everlasting reverence of all that shall be round about Him. "Go ye forth to meet Him." Arise,

ye dead, ye foolish as well as wise virgins, arise and come to judgment. Multitudes, no doubt, that hear this awakening cry, would rejoice if "the rocks might fall on them, and the hills cover them from the presence of the Lamb." What would they give, if, as they lived like beasts, they might now die like them that perish? How would they rejoice, if those same excuses, which they had made on this side eternity, for attending on holy ordinances, would now keep them from appearing before the heavenly Bridegroom? But as Adam, notwithstanding his fig leaves, and the trees of the garden, could not hide himself from God, when arrested with an "Adam, where art thou?" so now the decree is gone forth, and the trump of God has given its last sound; all tongues, people, nations, and languages, both wise and foolish virgins, must come into His presence, and bow beneath His footstool. Even Pontius Pilate, Annas and Caiaphas, even the proud persecuting high priests and Pharisees of this generation, must now appear before Him.

For, says our Lord, then-that is, when the cry was made, "Behold the Bridegroom cometh" ---in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, the graves were opened, the sea gave up its dead, and all those virgins, both wise and foolish, arose and trimmed their lamps; that is, endeavoured to put themselves in a posture to meet the Bridegroom.

But how may we imagine the foolish virgins were surprised, when, notwithstanding their high thoughts, and proud imaginations of their security, they now find themselves wholly naked, and void of that inward holiness and purity of heart, without which no man living, at that day, shall comfortably meet the Lord! I doubt not but many of these foolish virgins, whilst in this world, were clothed in purple and fine linen, fared sumptuously every day, and would disdain to set many of the wise virgins, some of which might be as poor as Lazarus, even with the dogs of their flock. Those were looked upon by them as enthusiasts and madmen, as persons that were righteous overmuch, and who intended to turn the world upside down; but now death hath opened their eyes, and convinced them, to their eternal sorrow, that he is not a true Christian who is only one outwardly. Now they find, though alas! too late, that they, and not the wise virgins, had been beside themselves. Now their proud hearts are made to stoop, their lofty looks are brought low; and, as Dives entreated that Lazarus might dip the tip of his finger in water, and be sent to cool his tongue, so these foolish virgins, these formal hypocrites, are obliged to turn beggars to those whom they once despised. "Give us of your oil." Oh, impart to us a little of that grace and Holy Spirit, for your insisting on which we fools accounted your lives madness, for alas! "our lamps are gone out;" we had only the form of godliness;

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »