Works of Rev. Leonidas L. Hamline, D.D. ...

Prefatory Note

THE second volume of Bishop Hamline's works has been delayed, from providential causes, far beyond the first intention. After the publication of the first volume an unexpected amount and variety of edited matter was still left, from which, with what still remained unedited, it was, upon consultation, decided to issue a second. Material for a third is still left, some of which, at least, will probably find its way to the public eye in another form.

It should be said that the "sketches and skeletons," with some other portions of the present volume, were never written with the remotest thought of publication, and it has not been without a sense of responsibility that they have been chosen for this purpose. Other matter of more varied interest to the common reader, and which had elicited more care of authorship — matter relating more to the literary sphere — might have taken their place. But when it was considered that the venerable author was a minister of the Gospel, a bishop in the Church, and an illustrious pattern of personal and ministerial purity and fidelity, it appeared to be more in propriety of character that he should, as far as possible, appear in, and speak from the pulpit. Especially was this decision confirmed by the reflection that this gave him a voice equally to pastors and to devout readers of all classes. A skeleton of a sermon is not an assemblage of dry bones, unsightly, unseemly, and, to the common reader, worthless ; but it is an orderly presentation of the living thoughts of a discourse. Exegetically it gives you the true idea of the text, and then puts you upon the track of discussion and application. The skeleton suggestively puts the

PREFATORY NOTE.

mind to thinking, working out its own conclusions and applications. It affords material for reflection, reasoning, and devout thought. A great gain is secured by the simple announcement of text and theme.

The brief plans here given from the mass of material of the same kind, are not all equally elaborated, or equally perfect. It is not as perfect specimens of the art that they are offered, but as specimens of the spontaneous workings of an ardent, cultivated mind, in its first grappling with pulpit themes. Our author never speaks without thought and point. Whatever a great mind thinks spontaneously, on any subject, is valuable — valuable as the probably true key to the subject, and as giving a hint at the law of its own workings. Perhaps nothing coui-d more truly and justly exhibit the mental order, but, above all, the uncompromising and earnest piety of the saintly author, than the strictly evangelical character of his themes. Spiritual religion was the home of his soul.

Thus much has been said in abatement of any censure or criticism which might fall upon the editorial execution of this part of the work. It needs only be added, that for suggestiveness, for original and professed thought, for the purpose of mental quickening of the reader, for the sharpening of the intellect, for finished specimens of argument, forensic, metaphysical, theological and popular, for practical and spiritual truth, few books of its proportions surpass it.

F. G. H.

Rochester, N. Y., March, 1871.

I. Ketches And Skeletons

PAGE.

I. Depravity of the Heart, n

II. The Diverse Estimates of the Preaching of the

Cross, 28

III. On the Lord's-S upper, 33

IV. Errors and true Ingredients of Prayer — Two

Sketches, 40

V. Personality and Work of Satan, .... 49

VI. On Backsliding, 56

VII. Christ our Advocate, 63

VIII. The Portion of the Saints, ..... 66 IX. The Son of Man Lifted Up, 76

X. Gratitude, . . 81

XI. The Heavenly State, . . . . . . .88

XII. Reluctance of God to Punish Sinners, . . 94

XIII. Friendship with Christ, 101

XIV. Love of God's Law the Test of Piety, . . . 106 XV. The True Glory of God, no

XVI. The True Liberty, 115

XVII. No Peace to the Wicked, 120

XVIII. Christ's Lament over Jerusalem, . . . 124

XIX. The Crown of Glory, ....... 131

XX. On Loving God with all the Heart, 135

XXI. Religious Responsibility for our Brother, . . 138

XXII. Christian Decision, 144

XXIII. The Pure in Heart,. 147

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

XXIV. The Vine and the Branches, .... 151 XXV. Works of Mercy in the Judgment, . . .154

XXVI. The Law of Liberty, 158

XXVII. Jesus' Witnesses, 162

XXVIII. Blessedness of Hungering and Thirsting after

Righteousness, . . . . . . 166

XXIX. Almost Persuaded to be a Christian, . .170 XXX. The Way of Perdition, . . . 173 XXXI. The Lord's Requirement, . . . . .178

XXXII. Few Saved, ........ 180

XXXIII, God a Consuming Fire, 180

XXXIV. Jesus at the Grave of Lazarus, . . . 184 XXXV. Sowing and Reaping, 186

XXXVI. The Work and Spirit of a True Minister of

Jesus Christ, 188

XXXVII. Jesus the Savior, 190

XXXVIII. Ability of Christ's Ministers, . . . 191 XXXIX. Divine Impartiality, . . . . .193

XL. Forgetfulness of God, 195

XLI. The Throne of Grace, 197

XLII. The Barren Fig-Tree, . . . . 199

XLIII. The Faith of the Patriarchs, . . . .201

XLIV. Ministerial Example, 203

XLV. Entire Sanctification, 204

XLVI. Walking in the Light, 206

XLVII. The Apostles' Prayer, 208

XLVIII. Complete Justification in Christ, . . . 210

II. D Dres Ses

I. Eloquence, 217

II. African Colonization, 239

III. The Church of God, - . 271

IV. The Grave, 3°5

V. Speech on the Case of Bishop Andrew, > 32.1

CONTENTS.

in.

HEOLOGICAL ESSAYS.

PAGFJ.

I. What is it to be Holy ? . - 347

II. The Millennium, 356

III, The Holy Ghost, 360

IV. Arminianism, 369

V. Arminianism in New England, , 378

VI. Future Punishment, 388

VII. Methodism — Providence, 409

VIII. Faith not mere Speculation, 436

IX, Omniscience of Deity, 442

X. Millennium a State of General Holiness, . . 445

XI. Eternal Sonship of Christ, 453

XII. God Manifested in the Flesh, .... 472

XIII. The New Birth, 478

XIV. The Blindness of Universalism, . . . , 483 XV. Superstition — Religion, 488

XVI. The Moral Law the Law of Nature, . . . 489 XVII. The Religion of Nature and of Grace, . . .493 j^ART I.

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

Sketches and Skeletons.

i.

" The carnal mind is enmity against God ; for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be." Romans viii, 7.

WE were, at the close of our former discourse (Sermons, p. 228), arguing the moral depravity of man from his general history, as a being originally holy, afterward fallen, and finally restored. We spoke of his original state as constituting an image of his Maker, and of his fallen state as implying a loss of that image in two particulars — in purity of affection, and in loss of happiness. We now proceed to expand the argument, under the former head, or particular, proving the radical depravity of the human heart from

* This discourse was discovered, and forwarded to the editor, after the publication of the first volume. It was written as a third sermon on the " Depravity of the Heart," and should have thus appeared in that volume. The sermon is an expansion of the argument briefly touched in the second proposition of the second sermon of the series, and is an admirable specimen of the searching style and profound argumentation of the author, though not designed by him for publication. — Ed.

II

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

its loss of pure affections. This our text declares in startling terms. The law of God requires two things, and only two, so far as it respects the heart, namely: I. That we love God with all the heart.

II. That we love our neighbor as ourselves. I. First, then, let us attend to the inferior precept, Do unregenerate men love their neighbor as themselves f

As we propose this question, how many enchanting scenes rise, as by magic, in the regions of your fancy — scenes of domestic peace and felicity — of fraternal, filial, and parental regard — of conjugal devotion, whose ardors death can not quench, and the grave can scarcely conceal ? You turn over the pages of memory, and point us to the records of your own faithful friendships — of sacred pledges given and redeemed, of holy covenants sealed and executed — executed by sacrifices which you exultingly summon as witnesses to testify your love of mankind.

The question is not whether you love your friends. This, in man, is scarcely a virtue. He who does not love his friend is worse than depraved, worse than imbruted.

To say you love merely your friends, is to vindicate your inferior, but to implicate your superior nature. It is to praise you as an animal, but reproach you as a spirit. It is to say that in instinct you are faultless, but in reason, reprobate. Will you be content to occupy the level of mere animals, when you may mount to the eminence of angels ? The question, then, we repeat it, is not whether you love your friends — do you love your neighbor as yourself? Neighbor and friend are not synonymous. Friend, as it is used

DEPRAVITY OF THE HEART.

by the world, is a term of contracted and selfish import. The word neighbor, as it is explained by Jesus, is as ample in extent as the human race. It fixes on the grand features of our common humanity as the only provocatives of sympathies pure and undegenerate. Neighbor means both friend and enemy. It as certainly embraces our bitterest foe, as it does our dearest friend and kinsman. The vilest on earth love their friends. You may do it, and be equally vile. Listen to Jesus : " If ye love them that love you, what reward have ye ? Do not even the publicans so ?"

If the love of friends be a virtue at all, it is so gross, so animalized, that the Savior deems it not to be a fulfillment of his law, and resolves that it shall not be rewarded. He declares that the publicans, who are to us the representatives of the vilest among men, did that which a pseudo-religionist would fain reckon to be a virtue of eminence. This love of friends may, for aught we know, prevail among infernal spirits. Reprobates must prosecute their war against Jehovah by some sort of amicable concert. Friendship, or some kindred term, may possibly exist in the vocabulary of devils. And Lucifer may dwell on the dignity of the angelic as complacently as men do on the dignity of human nature. The precept commands you to love your neighbor as yourself. And neighbor is generic, embracing not only your lovers and your kindred, but your bitterest haters and revilers. Having the precept before us, let us turn to the question of fact. Do unregenerate men thus love their neighbors ?

Look around you, and see what examples you can

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

muster ! We want no examples in which friendships were interrupted, and were cemented again by reconciliation. We want examples in which irreligious men, men dwelling in your community, have loved those who were seeking to injure them. You know, without our testimony, that such men pass each other with eyes scornfully askance or sullenly averted, harboring the spirit which gendereth murder.

Would you know more still ? Go and search the code of the duelist. In the estimation of the world, he is a refined specimen of precious human nature — a diamond among its jewels. Coming up from the slaughter of his victim, with reeking hands and demon heart, he is admired as the personification of the sublimest honor. Behold him in the midst of his crimes and his flatterers ; and, by the commandment of Jesus, judge both him and them.

Man — love — his — enemies t Alas! he oftener drinks the blood of his friends. Man's unsanctified sympathies never reached an acknowledged foe. Conscience and cowardice may have sheathed the weapon and suppressed the curse, but love never filled the mouth with blessings, and the hand with gifts, for a deadly enemy, until the soul had been crucified with Jesus, and its corrupt affections nailed to the cross. You can not, in a century, find an example to impeach this assertion ; but, in an hour, you can find millions to corroborate it. History unfolds them in records which are enough to turn midnight sick and pale. You need not even resort to history. Open your eyes, and you will become the spectators of convincing tragedy. You will see the strongest affinities of our nature scorned and sundered by the irrepressible malignity of man's infernal passions. Does this flow from the inherent vices of his spirit, or is it a perpetual accident ?

If man is equally inclined to vice and to virtue, might we not expect him to love his enemy at least as often as he murders his friend ? This, you will say, is the impulse of passion. Agreed ; and why does not the impulse of passion sometimes drive him in the opposite course ?

We cite you to man's murderous malice toward his friends. Will you produce one unequivocal example of his love for his enemies? You may say that some, who knew nothing of religion, have scorned revenge. Scorned revenge ! Was it pride or charity which scorned revenge ? If pride, it was another form of depravity. Pride, in that instance, was a stronger passion than revenge, and the major vice devoured the minor. But, recollect that forgiveness is a virtue only when it proceeds from the purest love.

Again: what is the tendency of human nature? Does the heart of man spontaneously forgive, or does it impulsively dictate revenge. If the heart feel revenge, this proves its corruption. If reason and conscience overrule the passion, this shows, not that the heart is pure, but that the understanding, with its moral sense, is constrained by the fear of God.

But, will- you object that Christians do not love their enemies ? We answer, such Christians as betray revengeful tempers confess — what is most true — that they are then under the dominion of human nature, and not under the control of Christianity. They

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

testify to the doctrine of human depravity, by admitting that, when its dominion is broken, it often rallies from its retreats, assaults, and gains partial advantages over the unguarded heart But, if you intend that Christianity, in its own proper spirit, does not breathe love to enemies, we repel the insinuation. Look at Jesus, as he breathes his last prayer, surrounded by his sanguinary persecutors. Look at Stephen, as he kneels to die, pleading with Heaven to charge nothing to his murderers.

Here the genius of Christianity is revealed in its undisguised perfection. It is a power of renovation to the soul of man, which, so far as it is felt in the heart, moves it to imitate these examples of forgiveness. These examples are imitated by millions. In this holy temper, the martyrs bled, and the martyrs burned. In this temper, thousands are now journeying to heaven,

" Little and unknown, Loved and prized by God alone."

But, though obscure on earth, their sublime virtues attract the admiration of heaven, and will exalt them to the right hand of God.

My friends, do not ascribe to Christianity the vices of human nature ; nor claim for human nature the virtues which belong to Christianity. These errors always happen when Christianity is charged with the defects of its confessors. If the pious love their enemies, as Jesus did, Christianity hath done it. If, half backslidden, they hate their enemies, human nature hath done it.

You may complain, that the precept, " Love your

DEPRAVITY OF THE HEART.

enemies," is not adapted to man's moral constitution. We answer, whether or not it be adapted to his moral constitution, it is suited to all holy things. If it be unsuited to man, it furnishes the most affecting evidence of his depravity.

This very evidence facts supply. How little do the unregenerate care for this precept! They do not intend to fulfill, but aim to violate it. They transgress it without remorse. Nay, it is a point of honor to violate it, and they would almost suffer remorse for its observance. Their tempers are so at war with the precept, that they deem God insincere or mistaken, in making such extravagant demands upon them. That God should command them to love their enemies, is, to them, as absurd as to command a man to see without eyes, hear without ears, or run up the eastern sky, and arrest the morning sun in his course. Finding their hearts and God's command at odds, they infer, not that their hearts are wrong, but that the law and the Law-Maker are wrong.

And now we affirm, challenging proof that we are mistaken, that this precept, "Love your enemies" creates an everlasting distinction between holy and unholy beings. No holy being ever failed to love his enemies ; no unholy being ever yet, as such, accomplished it. And we are now prepared to announce, also, an everlasting distinction between regenerate and unregenerate .men. No regenerate man, unless partially backslidden, ever failed to love, his enemy ; no unregenerate man ever yet accomplished it. Do not mistake this for a trifling distinction. It may seem

to you narrow now, but it will soon expand into a iS

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

breadth as dreadful as that which separates Lazarus from hell and despair.

II. In the second place, let us turn our thoughts to the superior precept of the law, which demands love to God. If there be among the virtues one which ought to be considered supreme, it is the love of God.

God is not only the most excellent being in the universe — the source and embodiment of all ideal loveliness and perfection — but, aside from his intrinsic beauties, which are infinite, his relations to us are so intimate and holy, as to render our obligations to love him paramount to all other duties. Yea, love to him becomes the true gauge and test of our own moral loveliness. But, if to love God is the supreme virtue, then not to love him is the supreme vice. Other offenses are aimed at the creature; but this, at the Creator in his own sacred person. Other sins, in comparison with this, are petty treasons, which God will punish ; but this, of withholding his heart from his Maker, is high treason, which will be sorely avenged. That heart which can trifle with its highest obligations, or resist the motives to a supreme virtue, may well be pronounced desperately wicked. If such a heart ever yield to the dominion of the moral virtues, its very first step must be to open its doors for the readmission of that holy one, who reared the temple, but was expelled from its altars.

And have the unregenerate done this ? Have they taken the first step toward moral virtue ? Have they begun to be any thing but rebels against God, by restoring God to the chief seat in their affections ?

Until they have done this, it is vain for them to talk about moral virtue. As well might Absalom have boasted of his filial piety and loyalty while his aged sire was banished to the wilderness, and he was profaning the scepter and the throne.

We believe that no man, without regeneration, truly loves God. This we might confirm by several proofs. We can adduce but one, and that is, perhaps, the least.

First, the unregenerate have no adequate curiosity to be acquainted with God. Curiosity is a strong passion in the human mind. In the pursuits of science, it renders man wakeful and enterprising. It gives wings to his soul, and teaches it to soar. It impels him to traverse airy regions, and marshal for inspection the starry hosts. It moves him over watery and terrene wastes, that he may drink in the joy of new discoveries, and revel in the riches of a creature universe.

Urged on by a curiosity so ardent, we might expect him to seek high gratification in the sublime disclosures of religion. We might expect every contemplative mind to dwell with rapture on the themes of the Christian revelation, and with holy ecstasy linger to adore beneath the cross. We might expect that, while the flame of his devotion is kindled at the manger — is fed in Gethsemane, and glows intensely on the summit of Calvary — all the power of hope would lay hold of his heart, tear it away from earth, and join the soul indissolubly to the beatitudes of heaven.

Alas ! alas ! how remote are all such expectations

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

from the sordid aims of unsanctified mind ! Here is a child of science. Day and night he bows down to the labor of his calling. He wearies not in his toilsome ascent from point to point, from summit to summit of successive, enchanting discovery. He aspires to the loftiest eminence of heaven, seeks the remotest horizon of the universe, and, with everlasting patience, wooes earth for a passage to her center, delving her surface to force his way. All the works of the eternal Maker are sought out by this genius of discovery. Hill, vale, river, and ocean ; cloud and sunshine ; light and darkness ; rain, hail, calm, and tempest ; the lightning's glance, and the voice of thunder — all these are his rich subsidies. He forms them into volumes of instruction ; he spreads them out as the diagrams of Nature, using them in the demonstration of her most sublime and subtle truths.

As he wanders through these fields of discovery, he feasts on every disclosure of Nature, except one. What is that one ? It is one which, to a pure intelligence, would cast all others into oblivion, except as mere auxiliaries in the acquisition of this neglected truth, namely: That it is the office of Nature to reflect the glories of her supreme Architect.

Would any but a corrupt intelligence be unmindful of this great truth ? Would a devout philosophy, cautiously surveying this reflector, fail to discern, in its profound depths, enchanting images of Deity ?

All within you exclaims, No. Reason, conscience, every thought, every sentiment of your inward nature, taken by surprise at the sudden appeal, joins in protesting against a philosophy so sacrilegious and

DEPRAVITY OF THE HEART.

profane. But, beware ! You reproach human nature. You impeach it of crime. Our unregenerate child of science perpetrates this philosophical sacrilege. He expatiates, with rapture, in every field of speculation and experiment, searching after every thing but God. He averts his eye from but one solitary object in the almost boundless circle of his vision — that is, God. He loathes no science in the universe, except it be the science of God and his government. With what amazing suddenness does he suffer repulsion when he happens to near a point in religion. How does he start and turn aside when Nature threatens an unexpected disclosure of the Deity, and of man's obligation to adore him ! How anxiously does he purge nature of God's presence, lest he must divide a portion of his regards to each ! How does he, like idiocy, admire the gilding and decorations of that mirror, into which, but for his passionate reluctance, he might gaze, and catch the reflected effulgence of Godhead S He loves Nature. He loves to traverse her almost illimitable domain, make his heaven in the light of her graces, and drink in her voices of harmony. But, hear, O heavens ! he loves Nature chiefly in the absence of her God. Like Adam, who fled at the sound of God's footsteps, he feels the curse of sin upon his conscience ; and, as he bears that curse along with him in the survey of Nature, he wishes the traces of God's hand erased from all her works, his voice hushed in all her chambers, and his omniscient eye turned away forever.

You will say, No. You will pronounce this to be the spirit of atheism. Yes, sirs ; and it is human

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

nature. The atheist, and the mere Christian theorist are one in spirit, though two in speculation. The atheist is without God in the world ; but he is not alone in that dreary solitude. Every one born of the flesh, and not of the Spirit, is the atheist's companion in exile from God. You are a philosopher and a speculative Christian. With your philosophy and Christianity you started out, twenty-five years ago, on a voyage of discovery. You have employed one-fifth of a century in scaling the heavens, vexing the earth, and torturing the elements, to force from them their secrets. You have studied man in all his complexity. The grossest and most refined elements of his being — mortal and immortal, earthly and heavenly, in their isolated and blended forms — have provoked your admiration. Now, hearken. How many hours of these revolving years have you given to the study of religion ? How much rapture have you experienced in devout meditation on a theme so sublime ? What ecstasy has sprung up within you, mingled with the consciousness of God's presence and smile ? Do these appeals confuse your memory ? Then should they also plant a thorn in your conscience.

If you have studied almost every thing but redemption — have practiced almost every thing but devotion, and have been happy in almost every thing but the love of God shed abroad in you, what sort of a Christian are you ? How does your religion transcend the grossest atheism ?

Will you say that you have not, like the atheist, purged nature of nature's God ? Why have you not ? Merely because you could not do it. God will not

DEPRAVITY OF THE HEART.

be banished from his own universe ; and you, unlike the atheist, are not fool enough to expect it. But, what then ? You have expelled your Maker from every inch of territory which he permitted you to call your own. Like the atheist, you have dissevered God from your memory — you have exiled him from your heart. Who is most vile ? He who denies that God is, and then forgets him, or you, who confess his being and his claims, and boldly set both at defiance ? Is it worse to profane Deity, and then adore Nature, or to adore her, confessing her to be the successful competitor of Deity ? The atheist plucks out his eyes, and finds no God to worship. The theist fixes his eye on God, scorns his claims, loathes his presence, and yields his perverted affections to the creature. While the atheist is guilty, is this man innocent? The scales of His justice will weigh both ; and Omniscience will determine which is most vile, and which merits the heaviest curse.

But you are resolved to be distinguished from the atheist. You are distinguished. His disease has ascended and settled on the brain. Yours lingers about the heart, and ulcerates the seat of life. Your disorders are as inveterate as his ; but you have this advantage — your reason is preserved, and you may yet be persuaded to try a remedy.

You may object that some unconverted men have been devout ' philosophers. Do not err, my beloved brethren. There is this amazing difference between your devout philosophers and ours. Yours make religion the handmaid of science, but ours make science the handmaid of religion. In yours, science,

2 4

SKETCHES AND SKELETONS.

but in ours religion, is the mistress of the heart. In yours religion, but in ours science, is forced to wait and serve. Ours uses science as the angels did Jacob's ladder — they mount on it to heaven. Yours uses it as the pagans do their temples — for the safekeeping of their idol gods.

One can scarcely help but weep and smile at the poetic religiousness of some of these philosophers. Like the affectations of prudery, it proves that conscience dictates devotion, and, in convenient moods, aspires to it. Their religion, like tasteful drapery on a comely form, is meant to heighten charms already fascinating. They deem that even science is more attractive under a slight rouge of religion.

My friends, has Jesus died to purchase showy decorations for souls pure and healthful ? Could such a trifle bring him from his throne ? No. His was a mission of salvation to the lost. His was a resurrection work — a remanding of the dead in sins to life — a revocation from their moral graves of the loathsome victims of spiritual death. This dire necessity brought the Lamb of God from heaven, and offered him in sacrifice upon the cross.

You speak of devout philosophers. Such there are. They, like Paul, have experienced the new birth. They use nature as their alphabet. For sublimer lessons, they employ a heavenly teacher. They study at the feet of Jesus, holding the Bible in their right hand. As to other philosophers, we rejoice when they let God alone, for their devotion is sure to vilify him. How often are religion and philosophy confounded! And the mistake is all on the side of philosophy.

DEPRAVITY OF THE HEART.

Religion is not so blind ; she is more expert at moral distinctions.

Philosophy sometimes pauses in her walks, and diverts herself with glances at the tree of life. Now and then she scornfully stretches forth her hand, plucks a leaf or a blossom, and carelessly inwreathes it with her own prideful ornaments. But religion forever lingers where philosophy scarcely pauses. Religion fixes her gaze where scarcely Philosophy glances. Religion tramples in the dust what Philosophy entwines around her temples and bears upon her heart. Religion scorns every ornament but such as she plucks from the tree of life, and loathes all sweets but such as she expresses from its immortal fruit. So broad is the distinction between earth-born Philosophy and heaven-born Religion.