Our living thus to the Lord plainly supposes our being sensi ble of our entire dependence on him, and that we devote ourselves to his service. We must " present our bodies a living sacrifice," ,"* without reserve or hesitation; and avouch the Lord to be our God, to" walk in his ways, and to keep his statutes, and judgments, and commandments, and to hearken to his voice." We bind ourselves to him in a firm covenant, not for a limited term of months and years, but forever and ever, and acquiesce in Him as our chief good. The solemnity of such an infinitely important transaction between the glorious Majesty of heaven, and such mean creatures as we, who are "but dust and ashes," cannot but strike us with reverential awe. And what will make it yet more humbling, is the consideration of our guilt. We not only as creatures take upon us to speak unto the Lord our Maker, but as criminals approach to the seat of our offended and most righteous Judge, Dare we then trifle, and not rather be most serious and deliberate? Reflecting that we are in the presence of the heart-searching God, will naturally make us watchful over every thought and motion of our spirits, and engage us to the greatest sincerity in surrendering to him our all. We will give him our hearts themselves; keep nothing back; nor except against any terms he shall please to propose, but yield at discretion. On this occasion a consciousness of our having revolted from him, neglected his service, purloined his goods, and, in every respect, behaved most ungratefully and undutifully, will affect us with the most genuine sorrow. Therefore, when repentant we return to him, we shall, covered with shame, approach with the Prodigal's self abasing confession, "Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." He will" surely hear us bemoaning ourselves, like Ephraim," that we have too long wrought the will of the flesh, and suffered "other usurping lords to have dominion over us;" but now we humbly beg forgiveness, his gracious acceptance of our persons, and admission into his family, should it be only on trial, "as hired servants." But though our sins have made us vile, and the view of their odious nature makes us "loathe ourselves in our own sight," yet a conviction of the free grace and mercy of God in Christ will comfort and encourage our dejected and diffident hearts. The cords of love will draw us nearer and nearer, until we shall assume an humble "boldness, to enter into the holiest of all by the blood of Jesus." Sacred love, and a grateful sense of the unmerited favours of our God, will now dispose us to, and animate us in the performance of every duty. Religion will be our chosen course, and the commandments of God will be so far from being burdensome to us, that we shall rejoice in them, and de * Rom. xii. 1. † Deut. xxvi. 17. light in "doing the things that please him." Our whole time will be consecrated to his service: no part of it can be spared for fleshly indulgences, or sinful pleasures, but will be employed either in some positive duty, or in preparation for it in the prop er season. : This religious bent of mind will manifest itself in all our conduct, and give even common actions a different direction. If we attend our ordinary callings, we shall be active and diligent, not in order to gratify an earthly temper, but from an obediential regard to supreme authority. When our spirits flag through intense application to business, and recreation becomes necessary, our very diversions will be considered as our duty, and so as a branch of our religion and as they will always be innocent in their nature, so they will be no otherwise regarded than as means to fit us for the repetition of our work. If our friends or country demand our service, we shall not give place to selfishness and indolence, but, as lovers of God and men, generously exert ourselves for the common good. Thus will our whole life be religion, upon such a sincere, entire, and affectionate dedication of ourselves to the Lord. And such as is our course so will be its end. When the date of time is concluded, we shall also "die to the Lord." This in general imports, our living under the rational, affecting impression of our dissolution, and appearing before God, and our constant endeavours after actual preparation to enjoy him forever. Then, upon the approach of death, we shall confidently "commit our spirits into his hands," recommend his ways to survivors, and glorify him with our dying breath. But, on the other hand, if our lives are not thus consecrated to our God, we cannot be supposed to perform any duty in an acceptable manner, as the requisite principle and end are wanting. He, to whom the secret springs of action are all obvious, will not, cannot accept pretended services; nor be pleased with the "blind and the lame for sacrifice," when the best are esteemed too good for him. To compliment him with our lips, when we refuse to give him our hearts, will be judged similar to the conduct of those, who "bowed the knee in derision," and in derision said, "Hail! King of the Jews!" He, "with whom we have to do," cannot be deceived, nor will be mocked. He requires "truth in the inward parts," which cannot subsist without an honest and upright design to serve him all the days of our lives. Now to live wholly to the Lord will appear to be our reasonable service, if we consider, 1. That "such a life is most worthy of rational and immortal creatures." From the powers and faculties given us, it may naturally be concluded, that we are created for some very important purpose; but what can be so important, or bear so just a correspondence to our capacities, as to live to the glory of our great Creator? This being our ultimate end, to which we refer all our actions, and perform each of them in such a manner as may best answer it, will influence our hearts, and frame our whole conversation agreeable to the divine approving will. And what can so ennoble the soul as conformity to the pattern of perfection? But to neglect this, and chiefly regard our temporal affairs, would be infinitely unworthy of beings capable of the highest pursuits, and formed for immortality. Why should we have been" wiser than the beasts of the field, or the fowls of heaven," if we are to have no sublimer aims than they? In a word, we could never vindicate the wisdom of God in our formation, if he intended us for meaner things than those for which we are qualified. Therefore, 2. Such a life is most worthy of God our Maker." Nothing can appear more proper, than that he who is the beginning, should also be the end; that as all are of him, all should be to him. And if his glory be the most excellent thing, and he the most perfect Being, it will necessarily follow, that he cannot ultimately design what is less excellent. Therefore the scripture speaks agreeable to everlasting truth, when it asserts, that "he made all things for himself;" and that " for his pleasure they are, and were created."* And can it be rationally supposed, that he allows us, whom he made for his own glory, to act for a different or opposite end? It cannot. We must therefore peremptorily affirm, that he cannot, in consistency with his perfections, require less, than that "whether we eat or drink, or whatever we do, we should do all to his glory." And this he does require, not because he needs our service, or can be happier, or more glorious in himself by our praises, but because it is fit and right, and results as our duty from the eternal reason of things. 3. "Such a life is our own happiness;" for, acting as prescribed, we move in our proper sphere, and tend to our native centre. We live as near the fountain of blessedness as our present state can admit, and nothing can be so animating as the glorious and blissful prospects our course affords. Our hearts, being fixed on the chief good, are at rest, and no more tortured with anxious hesitation, and uneasy suspense, as to what we shall choose for our portion, nor do our desires wander in quest of a more suitable object. We can wish for no more but the full enjoyment of God, whom we serve "with our spirits ;" whose peace, that passeth all understanding, rules in our hearts;" and for whose glory we hope, secure from confounding disappointment in the day of the Lord. 66 Now methinks every attentive hearer prevents my improvement of the subject, being ready of his own accord to make such reflections as these :-How serene and placid is the life, and how triumphant must be the death, of a true christian !-How reasonable a service do we perform, when we consecrate ourselves to the Lord, and receive him, freely offering himself to be our portion, our father, and our friend! None can plausibly urge, that some +1 Cor. x. 31. * Rev. iv. 11. things unfit, or detrimental, are required. None can pretend a conscientious scruple about complying with the proposal, nor dare any, however secretly reluctant, openly avow their dissent. Every mouth is stopped, and all acknowledge their obligation to this plain duty. What then should hinder the unanimous agreement of this whole assembly to so advantageous an overture? Why may we not join ourselves, this day, to the Lord, in an everlasting covenant? Would it not seem uncharitable to suppose, that any one in this christian audience rejects a proposal so infinitely just and kind? How pleasing is the very imagination of an universal concurrence! Not only would each of our hearts who are here present exult, but unnumbered hosts of angels, and all "the spirits of just men made perfect," would rejoice. Since therefore all things that pertain to our present or future happiness, conspire to urge this point, let us with one accord, in the most affectionate and reverent manner, approach the throne of our august Sovereign, and cheerfully resign ourselves to him forever; spend our lives in his service, and expect his compensating approbation at our end. In some such train, but more diffusive and sublime, would our reverend and dear deceased Friend have addressed us on such a subject. We may imagine how fervent his desire was of "living to the Lord" himself, and persuading others to the same course, when he fixed on this for the subject of his Funeral Sermon. Now, as it is generally agreed that example has the most powerful influence, perhaps a few sketches of his own fife and character may best recommend the preceding discourse, as they will prove the life described to be practicable. And though he on whom this task is devolved owns himself inferior to it, yet he is encouraged to undertake it from a persuasion, that a simple and unornamented narrative of what he knows, either personally or by certain information, concerning president Davies, will set him in a very agreeable point of light. He is now disinterested in all the praises and censures of mortals, and can neither receive benefit, nor suffer detriment by them; but his example may profit the living, as it tends to excite a laudable emulation; and some brief hints of the dispensations of divine providence towards him may not be without very useful instructions. He was an only son, and, which is more, was a son of prayers and vows; was given in answer to fervent supplications, and, in gratitude, wholly devoted to God from the womb by his eminently pious mother, and named Samuel, on the like occasion as the ancient prophet. The event proved, that God accepted the consecrated boy, took him under his special care, furnished him for, and employed him in the service of his church, prospered his labours with remarkable success, and not only blessed him, but made himself a blessing. The first twelve years of his life were wasted in the most entire negligence of God and religion, which he often afterwards bitterly lamented, as having "too long wrought the will of the flesh." But about that time the God to whom he was dedicated by his word and Spirit awakened him to solemn thoughtfulness, and anxious concern about his eternal state. He then saw sufficient reason to dread all the direful effects of divine displeasure against sin. And so deeply imprinted was the rational sense of his danger, as to make him habitually uneasy and restless, until he might obtain satisfying scriptural evidence of his interest in the forgiving love of God. While thus exercised he clearly saw the absolute necessity, and certain reality of the gospel-plan of salvation, and what abundant and suitable provision it makes for all the wants of a sinner. No other solid ground of hope, or unfailing source of comfort could he find, besides the merits and righteousness of him," whom God set forth to be a propitiation for sin, through faith in his blood."* On this righteousness he was enabled confidently to depend; by this blood his conscience was purged from guilt; and "believing he rejoiced with joy unspeakable, and full of glory."t Yet he was afterwards exercised with many perplexing doubts for a long season, but at length, after years of impartial repeated self-examination, he attained to a settled confidence of his interest in redeeming grace, which he retained to the end. A diary, which he kept in the first years of his religious life, and continued to keep as long as his leisure would permit, clearly shows how intensely his mind was set on heavenly things; how observant he was of the temper of his heart; and how watchful over all his thoughts, words, and actions. Did any censure his foibles, or juvenile indiscretions? They would have done it compassionately, had they known how severely he censured them himself. The tribunal daily erected in his own bosom was more critical in scrutinizing, and more impartial and severe in passing sentence, than either his friends or enemies could be. His love to God, and tender concern for perishing sinners, excited his eager desire of being in a situation to serve mankind to the best advantage. With this view he engaged in the pursuit of learning, in which, amidst many obvious inconveniences, he made surprising progress, and, sooner than could have been expected, was found competently qualified for the ministerial office. He passed the usual previous trials with uncommon approbation; having exceeded the raised expectations of his most intimate friends and admirers. When he was licensed to preach the gospel, he zealously declared the counsel of God, the truth and importance of which he knew by happy experience; and did it in such a manner as excited the earnest desires of every vacant congregation, where he was known, to obtain the happiness of his stated ministrations. But, far from gratifying his natural inclination to the society of |