templation of this illustrious race of beings. A comparison of ourselves with them, and of our circumstances with theirs, will particularly teach us our own littleness and depravity; and happily, as well as naturally, prepare us for humility and reformation.

Man is of the lowest order of intelligent beings, kindred to animals, often raised very little above their level, possessed in the humblest degree of rational attributes, the subject of extreme weakness, sluggishness, and ignorance; hastening with a rapid tendency to decay, old age, and death; without love to God, or his fellow-men; depraved throughout with sin, and voluntarily yielded by himself to final perdition.

What an affecting contrast is here presented to our view! Angels so great, virtuous, and happy: Man so little, sinful, and miserable. How deeply humbled ought we to be by the sight of this picture, presenting so just as well as forcible a delineation of our real character. How ashamed ought we to be of our impiety, deceit, injustice, unkindness, pride, and vanity. For in this humble state we are vain possessed of this guilty character we are proud. Of what are we proud? Of what are we vain? Of our sin, our disgrace, our folly, our frailty, our diseases, or our death? What beside these things can we find to excite our pride?

Yet we are proud and vain: wonderfully proud, deplorably vain: we are proud of a body fattening for worms, and pampered for corruption and the grave; of clothes which we borrow from the sheep and the silk-worm, of endowments given us by God, of wealth amassed by fraud and avarice, and of stations conferred by base favouritism and popular frenzy. Nay, we are proud of profaneness, cursing, and blasphemy. We boast of bargains, made only by the cunning of fraud, or the violence of oppression. We glory in the infernal arts and infamous success of seduction. We murder our fellow-creatures in duels, and wreathe our temples with garlands dyed in blood. We slaughter thousands and millions in war; plant laurels amid the bones, and nourish them with the blood of those whom we have destroyed. We raise our thrones on the cemetery of buried nations; and mistake the groans and shrieks of surviving parents, widows, and orphans, for the trumpet of fame. In a word, all that ought to humble us in the dust, all that ought to clothe us in sackcloth, and cover us

with ashes, all that blackens us with disgrace and guilt, all that makes us deformed and loathsome in the sight of God, is converted by us into the means of pride and exultation.

Angels, although so greatly exalted above men, are neither proud nor vain. The plain reason is, they are not sinful. Pride and vanity are derived from sin only; or rather sin is the root and stem of bitterness, of which they are the branches. To be proud or vain, then, is not to resemble the holy angels, but the fallen ones. Can this resemblance flatter any man; a resemblance to the worst and most odious of all the creatures of God? Who would not eagerly drop this wretched likeness, this tatterred garb of guilt and shame, assume a resemblance to the glorious beings whom we have been contemplating, and adorn himself with the unspotted, spiritual, and never-fading robe of humility and righteousness? The faith, repentance, and love of the Gospel, are the fine linen of the saints,' wrought and made white in the heavens; and with this best robe, in his father's house, every repenting and returning prodigal will be clothed.

3. What a happy change would be accomplished in this world, if Men would assume the spirit and conduct of Angels.

Angels never indulge sloth, deceit, wrath, malice, envy, or impiety. Angels never cheat, corrupt, betray, nor oppress. Angels never profane the name of God, perjure themselves, ridicule sacred things, insult the Redeemer, resist the Holy Ghost, nor deny the being, the perfections, the word, or the government of God. Angels never consume their time in idle amusements, or guilty pleasures; never slander each other, never quarrel; never make wars, and never desire nor plunder each other's blessings. How miserable have men, by all this conduct, rendered this unhappy world! With what a prodigal hand do we waste the blessings given to us by God; pervert our talents, and frustrate the end of our being. With what rapacity and violence do we plunder the blessings, and destroy the lives of our fellow-creatures? In an existence, aturally accompanied by many evils, we are impatient to eate and multiply sufferings; to lessen the good which God Is given, to shorten the period of life already so little, and to surround it with miseries of our own creation. In this manner, and by ourselves, the evils which we suffer have been

immensely multiplied; and the world, destined for our habita, tion, which, if we were pious, just, sincere, and kind, would be a comfortable residence, has been converted into a region of sorrow and mourning. Private dwellings, the proper mansions of peace and love, have been disturbed by domestic broils; the father contending against his son, and the son against his father; the mother with parental unkindness pro1 voking her daughter to wrath, and the daughter, with filial impiety, revolting from her mother. Brethren have become strangers to each other, and for such a length of time, and with such violence of passion, that they have been harder to be won than the bars of a castle.' Neighbourhoods have been distracted with divisions and contentions, and nations rent asunder by faction and discord. Empires have become fields of war and slaughter, and the earth has been changed into a vast receptacle of misery and ruin. All this wretchedness is the consequence of sin; its immediate product, its genuine offspring. Should we then drop this character, would not our consciences be more serene, our lives more pleasant, our families more harmonious, and the world more quiet and happy.

The mighty difference between heaven and earth, angels and men, lies in holiness and sin. Angels are holy, we are sinful: their residence is happy, ours in many respects wretched. This world was originally formed to be a delightful habitation; and at the close of the creation, was by God himself pronounced to be very good. Man was once immortal and happy, because he was just, kind, sincere, humble, and pious. What has the world, what has man, gained by the change? The afflicting answer may be summed up in a word. God made the earth a beautiful image of heaven; man, by his apostasy, has changed it into no obscure resemblance of hell. God made man a little lower than the angels, and crowned him with glory and honour; man being in honour, abode not, but became like the beasts which perish.'

SERMON XIX.

CREATION.

THE ANGELS.

FOR BY HIM WERE ALL THINGS CREATED, THAT ARE IN HEAVEN, AND THAT ARE IN EARTH, VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE, WHETHER THEY BE THRONES, OR DOMI NIONS, OR PRINCIPALITIES, OR POWERS: ALL THINGS WERE CREATED BY HIM, AND FOR HIM.

COL. I. 16.

IN the preceding Discourse, I began a consideration of the nature and circumstances of Angels. After examining these things generally, as imported by the several names given to these illustrious beings in the Scriptures, I proposed to mention whatever was necessary to my design under the follo ving heads:

I. Their Rank or Station. II. Their Attributes. And III. Their Employments.

The two first of these subjects I then considered at some length. Under the second head I observed, that they are possessed, 1. Of wonderful Power: 2. Of wonderful Activity: 3. Of immortal Youth: 4. Of the noblest Intellectual faculties, and of Knowledge superior to that of any other created beings and 5. Of consummate Holiness.

I shall now proceed to a further consideration of this branch of the general subject; and observe,

6. That Angels are possessed of distinguished loveliness of character.

In the view of passion and taste, beings are lovely when possessed of external beauty of form, and gracefulness of deportment. A complexion finely coloured and blended, a figure finely fashioned, features happily turned and adjusted, and a demeanour elegantly exhibited, are, to our fancy and our passions, so engaging and lovely, as not unfrequently to engross the affections of the mind. Yet even we are sensible, that these are very imperfect objects of our attachment. Accordingly we speak of them, in customary language, as things of mere fancy; unsolid, unenduring, of little value; and therefore incapable of claiming or receiving the sincere approbation of the judgment, the full testimony of unbiassed reason, on account of any inherent or essential excellence.

But there are objects of a nobler kind, claiming, in a far higher degree, both our affections and our esteem. All the diversities of virtue or holiness, are in their nature pre-eminently lovely. Virtue is the beauty of the mind, and as superior to that of the form, as the soul is superior to the tenement in which it dwells. On this delightful object, the understanding, in spite of every human prejudice, fixes its eye with unqualified approbation; and the heart, if not wholly destitute of candour, with sincere delight. Virtue is the beauty of the heavenly world; and while it engrosses the attachment and the homage of angels themselves, is regarded with entire complacency by its divine Author.

In exact accordance with the supreme value of this inestimable object, mankind customarily speak of it under its. various names, as more excellent, more noble, more solid, more desirable, and as demanding, in a higher degree than any other attribute, the regard and complacency of every intelligent being. In this manner we show, that, partial as we are, we still prefer worth to external beauty and grace.

There is then, even in our view, a higher and nobler loveliness, than that which engages our fancy or our taste; a foundation in the nature of things for more rational, more pure, and more enduring attachment. In what does this loveliness consist? In something, plainly, which is not found in external form, complexion, or gracefulness; something which belongs to mind, and not to person. It does not consist in intelligence. Men of the greatest understanding and information are often odious, injurious, and deformed with all