therefore not to be wholly suppressed, but it should always be moderated with the assurance that all the resources of wisdom and power are at God's command, and that he can defend and save us from disease and from all its causes. On this point we ought not to entertain a moment's doubt. "I will say of the Lord, He is my fortress; my God, in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee."

II. The fear of contagion should never interfere with the duties of humanity. The infirm should be cared for; the aged and the young protected; the sick should be ministered to; the dead buried; and those in danger, faithfully warned. All this is required by the golden rule, of doing to others as we would they should do to us. When exposed to disease, we would wish those acquainted with the fact to warn us of our danger; when attacked with sickness, we would wish some friend to come to our aid; when sinking into the grave, overcome and vanquished by the great enemy, we would even then desire to be comforted-if but with the kind look of a fellow mortal; all this therefore ought we to render others in the day of their extremity. Life itself must be sometimes, not only offered, but actually sacrificed, on the altar of benevolence; for God has made it our duty to live, only in the discharge of duty. Life, indeed, is not to be recklessly thrown away, where there is no prospect of good being accomplished; but where disease is raging, every dictate of humanity demands that we attend the sick at every hazard. The case is the same where our friends are perishing in the waters, or in the fire; humanity requires that we make every exertion to save them, even at the risk of our own lives.

III. When the fear of contagion exceeds the fear of sin, then it is certainly inordinate and wrong. This must be manifest on a moment's reflection. Sin is the most dreadful evil in the universe. There is in truth no evil but itself. Sin alone provokes the wrath of God. But for sin, we might bid farewell to all our fears-all our sorrows would be but for a moment. Free from sin, we might welcome disease and death itself with joy. How glad the message, by which we are called into the presence of God and all the realities of eternity! If on the other hand we are still involved in its guilt and condemnation, how dreadful beyond expression is everything connected with the day of our death-since we are in danger of eternal ruin. But on what ground can we justify ourselves in being more afraid of disease than sin? in trembling at the thought of being exposed to sickness, while the breaking of the commandments of God gives us comparatively no concern? in shutting up the sick that they may not go out, and yet not standing in any dread of doing that which deliberately provokes the wrath of God? Let us treat things according to their merits. If sin is the greatest of all evils, then let us so regard it, and conduct ourselves accordingly. Let us ascertain from the most patient in

vestigation, whether the infected chamber of a sick person is not more terrible to us than the unholy home of mirth and ungodliness; whether the dread of taking a disease is not more active in us than the dread of living impenitent without faith in Christ. Here is a good test of our principles a safe criterion of our actual standing in the sight of God. Would we, as by instinct, put our hand to our mouth and hold our breath, in presence of disease, and immediately throw open our whole hearts to the influence of a moral leper, a man whose heart and life are at enmity with God? This is entirely a fair question. Do not the highest interests of our souls demand that we should prove ourselves in some such way as this? We assuredly know enough of the deceitfulness of our hearts to be already aware of the danger to which we are exposed from this very quarter. What if, on investigation, we should find that we regard contagion a more dreadful thing than the violation of the will of God? Would it be a piety worthy of the gospel if it placed the safety of the body above the glory of God? Would any of us feel prepared for the scrutiny of the last judgment, if our devotion to our Savicur rose no higher-that we would flee from infection at the first warning, and yet show no willingness to turn from sin, even at his command? But is there not good reason to believe that many who profess to believe in Christ and in the solemn realities of a coming eternity, who maintain that sin is the only evil to be shunned, are yet very inconsistent when placed in proximity to some contagious and prevailing disease? When the wind blows from an infected house, they are thrown into a panic at their danger; and yet the same persons may be found at their ease, yea, in very great self-complacency and joy, in the midst of a theatre, surrounded with, and breathing an atmosphere of spiritual death!

Now we would not deride the fear of contagion; on the contrary, it is dictated by the great first law of self-preservation; and therefore constitutional and right in its proper degree. We would not argue for presumption, when the pestilence is in the land. But we would insist that Christians at least, who show more fear of infection than of moral evil, give the world but little reason to regard them sincere in their professions of supreme devotion to the Great Master. We would insist, that as sin is a greater evil than disease of body, so it ought to command in us a corresponding dread. From its terrible contagion we should instinctively shrink, as from the horrible verge of hell. What is this fear of disease, which so soon arouses every soul in the population of a crowded city as with the blast of a trumpet, but the dread of going into the presence of God to render up an account of our deeds? And would we cherish such a state of mind were we really at peace with God, living in all good conconscience in the keeping of his commandments? Would the bare mention of the plague all but quench our faith in the providence and goodness of God, if we were longing to be with God in the blessed fellowship of heaven? If sin were seen by us in its true character; if we entertained proper views of God's feelings towards it; if we would allow ourselves to understand its effect upon our own happiness-would we so easily err, in preferring sin to affliction?

In conclusion, we may learn,

1. That our duty to God takes precedence of every other duty. Such is the order signified in the law: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God,

with all thy heart; and thy neighbor as thyself." In all times of special exposure to sickness and death, this sentiment ought to be engraven on our hearts.

2. All inordinate fear of disease is as a transgression of the law of God. God-disregards the duties which we even with our own health and welfare. to guard against this sin.

wrong, and therefore to be avoided Such fear distrusts the goodness of owe to others—and is at variance We ought therefore by all means

3. A heart right with God is the best preparation for every event. If our heart be right with God, it will be at peace with our fellow men—it will be full of faith in Christ, and of comfort in the Holy Spirit-it will be humble, resigned, and happy. This is an asylum for every hour of danger once fairly in it, no evil can befall us. Those whom the Lord keeps are perfectly safe. "Blessed are all they who put their trust in Him." O let his solemn voice, in these times of death, be heard in our inmost souls! It is an awful warning which his providence is now giving us all. Though it seems to speak in severity, it speaks in love. It bids us remember our latter end-the vanity of all earthly pursuits-the certainty of death-and the retributions of the judgment day. It bids the wavering to decide; the backslider to return to God; the impenitent to repent; the Christian to watch; for no man knoweth "what a day may bring forth.'

4. We ought not to murmur against God. Alas! did he deal with us according to our sins, we should all be cut down as cumberers of the ground. Look at the obligations which have been laid upon us in the gospel of Christ, and how wretchedly we have fulfilled them; at the temporal blessings conferred upon us, and how we have abused them; at the patience and compassion which God has so long shown towards us-the years of forbearance and mercy which he has given us to enjoy, and how thoughtlessly we have allowed them to run to waste! Instead of preparing to die, we have too often done the very opposite-we have made ourselves unfit to live. Let us not murmur, then, if God comes forth in his inscrutable sovereignty and teaches us the great lesson that our life is in his hands, and that he will recall it when it shall please him so to do. Be this the willing sentiment of every heart-" Thy will, O God, be done, on earth as it is in heaven." My life I place at thy disposal; that it may be consecrated for ever in all its powers to thy service grant through Jesus Christ, my Saviour and Redeemer. Amen.

THE AMERICAN

NATIONAL PREACHER.

No. 10, Vol. XXVIII.] OCTOBER, 1854.

[Whole No. 334.

SERMON DCXXXIII.

BY REV. JONATHAN BRACE,

PASTOR OF THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, MILFORD, CONN.

THIS WORLD NOT OUR PLACE OF REST.

"Arise ye and depart, for this is not your rest, because it is polluted.-MICAH ii. 10.

THE world we live in, is in some respects a beautiful world, and in some respects desirable as a place of residence; and hence so many regard it as their portion-their home; and never seek for a better habitation. But this our planet, though measurably fair, is nevertheless scarred, and though there are comforts here, there are crosses and trials here, and it is not the place designed by our Creator for the place of our rest. And when he sees us thinking that it is, acting as if it was, setting our hearts upon it, devoting ourselves to its pleasures, its honors, and its gains, as though there was nothing more valuable, as though he had not provided something more suitable and satisfying for the immortal spirit; his voice to us in the stirring appeal of the text, is, "Arise ye and depart, for this is not your rest, because it is polluted."

That this world was never intended by our Heavenly Father to be the place of our rest, is apparent from the following considerations.

1. Because our stay here is so short and uncertain.

The apostle asks, "What is your life?" and then, answering his own question, says: "It is a vapor, which appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away." The moment we begin to live we all begin to die." Three score years and ten, or fourscore years, and these tabernacles of ours, not formed of strong and

lasting materials, such as brass, iron, or stone, but formed of clay, and hence called "earthly houses," whose "foundation is in the dust," sink, fall, dissolve, and moulder away. A wind passes over them and they are gone, housed in the grave! And the time when they will thus go, is as uncertain as the span of their continuance here, is short. "Man knoweth not his time: as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught in the snare, so are the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them." Navigating the ocean of life, they know not the storm destined to wreck them upon its bosom, nor the nearness of that advancing wave which is to reach them and settle over them for ever. Pope Adrian was deprived of life by a knat; an illustrious Roman counsellor by a hair; Anacreon, the renowned Grecian poet, by the seed of a grape; the Emperor Charles VI. by a mushroom; and thousands more, have found in a flying atom, an insect, or a passing breeze, what has "changed their countenance and sent them away." "In the midst of life we are in death." And is such a world as this, where our stay is so brief and precarious, where all ages and classes are alike liable to the sudden and unsparing stroke of the great destroyer, where they are crushed before the moth-die from morning to evening, and from evening to morning, the banners of death waving in the sunlight and night air-is this the place of our rest? Did our Creator intend it as such? No; these decaying bodies, the urned ashes of our deceased relatives and friends, the buried dust of ages, our globe one vast burying ground, the sepulchre of life to its once busy, bustling millions, say, no! "this is not your rest."

2. Again. This appears from the fact, that there are so many vicissitudes, labors, disappointments, and sorrows here. Not only "have we no continuing city" here, but even while we are here, we are subject to serious evils. Both the rational spirit, and the material frame in which it dwells, are called to suffer. "Man is born unto trouble, as the sparks to fly upward." "Though a man live many years and rejoice in them all, yet let him remember the days of darkness, for they are many. Numerous are the severe and humbling diseases to which flesh is liable, and many are preyed upon by these diseases-lying down on beds of languishing and pain. Numerous are the personal and domestic trials to which humanity is exposed, and many are daily encountering these trials. Here, one finds that he has misplaced his affections, and is suffering the pangs of a wounded heart; there, the bright hopes which one has been cherishing are overcast with clouds. Here, those who have commanded luxuries, who have been in their plenty, utter strangers to scenes of want and destitution, are by a sudden blow reduced to poverty and are wearing the wan look of want; and there, the Kin Terrors has entered the sparkling circle, invaded the fi