SERMON XVI.

THE SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD.

JEREMIAH x. 28.

O Lord, I know, that the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man, that walketh, to direct his steps.

In this passage of Scripture, the prophet, after uttering a variety of sublime declarations concerning the perfections and providence of God, and the follies and sins of men, exhibits the progress of life as a Way. In this Way, all men are considered as travelling. We commence the journey at our birth; pass on through the several stages of childhood, youth, manhood, and old age, and finish it when we enter eternity. The accommodations, and the fare, are greatly varied among the various travellers. Some find their entertainment plentiful, and agreeable; and some, even luxurious and splendid. Others are slenderly provided with food, raiment, and lodging; are almost mere sufferers; and literally, have not where to lay their heads.

In the mean time, sorrow and disease, dangers and accidents, like a band of marauders, lie in wait for the travellers; and harrass, and destroy, a great proportion of their number. Of the vast multitude, who continually walk in the path of life, almost all disappear long before they reach the goal, at which it terminates. A very few arrive at the end. Of these, every one. dragging heavily his weary feet over the last division of the road, teaches us, that this part of his progress is only labour and sorrow.

A remarkable fact, universally attendant on our journey, is recited in the text. O Lord, says the deeply humbled prophet, I know, that the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man, that walketh, to direct his steps. The enterprise is not contrived by ourselves. We are placed in it, and necessitated to accomplish it, by a superior, and irresistible, hand. It cannot but seem strange, that in such a journey we should originally be prevented from the ability to direct ourselves; and that, while we are compelled to the undertaking, we should be furnished for it in a manner so imperfect. Yet such is unquestionably the fact. Nor is the explanation so difficult, or so unsatisfactory, as we are prone to believe. GOD originally intended, that all his creatures should be dependent on him for aid, guidance, and protection. Nor can it be rationally supposed, that such a dependence on his perfections, and providence, is either unreasonable or undesirable. The Sovereignty of God, which is so clearly, and strongly, visible in this interesting subject, has ever been questioned, and very often denied, by mankind. To establish this doctrine in the minds of my audience, is the peculiar design of the present discourse. In a sermon, lately delivered in this place on the decrees of God, I explained what I intend by the divine Sovereignty. It was then observed, that the conduct of GOD is sovereign, in this sense; that he does according to his will, independently and irresistibly, without giving an account of any of his matters any farther than he pleases; but that he wills nothing without the best reason, whether that reason be disclosed to his creatures, or not; that real glory to himself, and real good to his creation, not otherwise attainable, are universally the object, to which his pleasure is directed, whether it respects the existence, and motions, of an insect, or the salvation of a man. It was remarked, also, at that time, that, in the ordinary sense of the word, God never acts arbitrarily; and that to say, he wills a thing because he wills it, is to speak without meaning. All his pleasure, all his determinations are perfectly wise and good; founded on the best of all reasons; and directed to the best of all purposes. Were he to act in any other manner; his providence would be less wise, and less desirable.

It will not be questioned, that this doctrine is deeply interesting to man. On this life is suspended that, which is to come.

Consequences, eternal and incomprehensible, will flow from those doctrines, which we adopt in the present world. All our conduct will then be examined; and will either be approved, or condemned. If we have chosen the strait, and narrow way, prescribed to us; the termination will be happy. If we have preferred the broad and crooked road; it will be deplorable.

Few of this audience will probably deny the truth of a direct Scriptural declaration. With as little reason can it be denied, that most of them apparently live in the very manner, in which they would live, if the doctrine were false or that they rely, chiefly at least, on their own sagacity, contrivance, and efforts, for success in this life, and that which is to come. As little can it be questioned, that such self-confidence is a guide, eminently dangerous, and deceitful. Safe as we may feel under its direction, our safety is imaginary. The folly of others in trusting to themselves we discern irresistibly. The same folly they perceive, with equal evidence, in us. Our true wisdom lies in willingly feeling, and cheerfully acknowledging, our depend ence on God; and in committing ourselves with humble reliance. to his care and direction.

With these observations, I will now proceed to illustrate the truth of the doctrine. The mode, which I shall pursue, will probably be thought singular. I hope it will be useful. Metaphysical arguments, which are customarily employed for the pur pose of establishing this, and several other doctrines, of theology, are, if I mistake not, less satisfactory to the minds of men at large, than the authors of them appear to believe. Facts, wherever they can be fairly adduced for this end, are attended with a superior power of conviction; and commonly leave little. doubt behind them. On these, therefore, I shall at the present time rely for the accomplishment of my design. In the

1st. place, The doctrine of the text is evident from the great fact; that the birth, and education, of all men depend not on themselves.

The succeeding events of life are derived, in a great measure at least, from our birth. By this event, it is in a prime degree determined whether men shall be princes or peasants, opulent or poor, learned or ignorant, honourable or despised; whether

they shall be civilized or savage, free men or slaves, Christians or Heathen, Mohammedans or Jews.

A child is born of Indian parents in the western wilderness. By his birth he is, of course, a savage. His friends, his mode of life, his habits, his knowledge, his opinions, and his conduct, all grow out of this single event. His first thoughts, his first instructions, and all the first objects, with which he is conversant, the persons whom he loves, the life to which he addicts himself, and the character which he assumes, are all savage. He is an Indian from the cradle: he is an Indian to the grave. To say, that he could not be otherwise, we are not warranted; but that he is not, is certain.

From this mo

Another child is born of a Bedouin Arab. ment he begins to be an Arabian. His hand is against every man; and every man's hand is against him. Before he can walk, or speak, he is carried through pathless wastes in search of food; and roams in the arms of his mother, and on the back of a camel, from spring to spring, and from pasture to pasture. Even then he begins his conflict with hunger and thirst; is scorched by a vertical sun; shrivelled by the burning sand beneath; and poisoned by the breath of the Simoom. Hardened thus through his infancy and childhood, both in body and mind, he becomes, under the exhortations, and example, of his father, a robber from his youth; attacks every stranger, whom he is able to overcome; and plunders every valuable thing, on which he can lay his hand.

A third receives his birth in the palace of a British nobleman; and is welcomed to the world as the heir apparent of an ancient, honourable, and splendid family. As soon as he opens his eyes on the light, he is surrounded by all the enjoyments, which opulence can furnish, ingenuity contrive, or fondness be stow. He is dandled on the knee of indulgence; encircled by attendants, who watch, and prevent, alike his necessities, and wishes; cradled on down; and charmed to sleep by the voice of tenderness and care. From the dangers, and evils, of life, he is guarded with anxious solicitude. To its pleasures, he is con ducted by the ever-ready hand of maternal affection. His person is shaped, and improved, by a succession of masters; his

mind is opened, invigorated, and refined, by the assiduous superintendence of learning and wisdom. While a child, he is served by a host of menials, and flattered by successive trains of visitors. When a youth, he is regarded by a band of tenants with reverence and awe. His equals in age bow to his rank; and multitudes of superior years, acknowledge his distinction by continual testimonies of marked respect. When a man, he engages the regard of his sovereign; commands the esteem of the Senate; and earns the love, and applause, of his country.

A fourth child, in the same kingdom, is begotten by a beggar, and born under a hedge. From his birth, he is trained to suffering and hardihood. He is nursed, if he can be said to be nursed at all, on a coarse, scanty, and precarious pittance; holds life only as a tenant at will; combats from the first dawnings of intellect with insolence, cold, and nakedness; is originally taught to beg, and to steal; is driven from the doors of men by the porter, or the house-dog; and is regarded as an alien from the family of Adam. Like his kindred worms, he creeps through life in the dust; dies under the hedge, where he is born; and is then, perhaps, cast into a ditch, and covered with earth, by some stranger, who remembers, that, although a beggar, he still

was a man.

A child enters the world in China; and unites, as a thing of course, with his sottish countrymen in the stupid worship of the idol Fo. Another prostrates himself before the Lama, in consequence of having received his being in Thibet, and of seeing the Lama worshipped by all around him.

A third, who begins his existence in Turkey, is carried early to the mosque; taught to lisp with profound reverence the name Mohammed; habituated to repeat the prayers, and sentences, of the Koran, as the means of eternal life; and induced, in a manner irresistibly, to complete his title to Paradise by a pilgrimage to Mecca.

The Hindoo infant grows into a religious veneration for the cow; and perhaps never doubts, that, if he adds to this a solemn devotion to Juggernaut, the Gooroos, and the Dewtahs, and performs carefully his ablutions in the Ganges, he shall wash away