BRIEF NOTES OF A SERMON BY THE PREACHED AT HARVEY LANE, LEICESTER, LORD'S DAY AFTERnoon, "Being such an one as Paul the aged."-Philemon 9. THIS epistle has been considered a perfect specimen of manly eloquence. Among the great mass of epistles preserved from antiquity, there are none with which it will not bear an advantageous comparison; delicate sentiment, modesty and humility, are equally combined in it. The apostle had a difficult task before him to conciliate Philemon to his fugitive slave. The word Onesimus signifies useful; the apostle alludes to the meaning of this word, and says that he was "in time past unprofitable, but is now profitable." The apostle urges two considerations, his age and his situation; each of these gave him a claim to respect and deference from Philemon. 1. Let us first notice what is due to the aged, confining our remarks to those whose grey hairs are adorned with Christian piety. The apostle was probably about sixty years old when he thus ranked himself with the aged. Deference and respect are due to old age. The heathens strongly insisted upon this branch of social morality. Nothing was held in greater abhorrence than disrespect to the aged. Christianity has engrafted this branch of morality among its precepts. This principle has regulated the political condition of men. The Roman Senate (senatus) was originally an assembly of old men. Among the Jews the elders of the city exercised the office of magistrates. The elders of the Christian Church included, not merely persons of advanced age, but those of acknowledged gravity and prudence. Like When our fellow-men are arrived at this stage of life, and are cut off from its active pursuits, they are entitled to our sympathy. The aged are disturbed by the melody which delights the ears of youth. Barzillai, they are little interested with anything that is done under the sun. This sympathy should be extended to those infirmities of temper which are attached to this period of life. Let those who have aged parents recollect that a certain peevishness of temper may consist with the highest virtue. Perpetual succour according to our ability, is due to the aged. This forms a principal part of that honouring our parents to which the first promise in the Decalogue is made; our Saviour resolves it into furnishing them with an honourable subsistence. Paul, in his epistle to Timothy, decides that those who have near relations ought not to be supported by the church. There are some modern professors who have shamefully neglected their aged parents, and thus brought great disgrace upon religion. 2. What are we to expect from old age? We may expect from religious old age a greater degree of gravity and constancy. Aged persons are supposed to have acquired fixed maxims-established principles of conduct. There is something amusing in the liveliness of youth, owing to the versatility of their taste, and the susceptibility of their hearts. But in old age we expect a degree of regularity, and a fixation of mind. Young men are pardoned in a thousand levities and sallies of animation, an exuberance of vivacity; but for old men to be light and frothy is utterly inconsistent with their period of life and the genius of the gospel. We expect a sober cheerfulness; nothing is more delightful 609 BRIEF NOTES OF A SERMON BY THE REV. ROBERT HALL, M.A. than to see old men happy, and this is scarcely ever wanting to a virtuous and well-spent life. A superior degree of wisdom is expected in the aged, not a larger measure of artificial attainments. The memory decays first. Many stores of knowledge may decay and lie destroyed. But wisdom is very distinct from acquired knowledge. That form of wisdom denominated prudence, which treasures up the results of past experience, foresees the consequences of a complicated train of action, which makes the sapient counsellor and adviser, may be looked for in old age. If, in the body politic, young men may be considered as the hand, old men are the head, to inform and direct. Old men possess greater maturity in religion; they can give many wise and holy lessons of piety. In young persons that curiosity which induces them to "prove all things," occasions some fluctuation of sentiment. But in old age we expect a fixed and stable mode of thought and action. A superior degree of piety may be expected in old age. Some forms of it, it would be unreasonable to expect. Not greater zeal or a greater spirit of enterprise, but a more settled contempt of the world, may be expected from those who have a thousand times experienced its vanity and worthlessness. To young men the world appears as a city beheld at a distance, when nothing is seen but the spires and domes of its palaces and other magnificent structures, without any of those mean and disgusting abodes of wretchedness which meet the eye on entering it. Old men look on it as a field of battle. They may be expected to have more heavenly-mindedness and spirituality of temper; as their sight decays, and bodily sensations become less vivid, their faith, hope, and love may increase in vigour. Their minds will be more habitually impressed with the prospect of immortality. Young men have two worlds to manage; to live well and to die happily. But the old man has realised what is to be suffered or enjoyed in this world; no hope now remains to him but that which "enters within the veil." Where there are no principles of religion, avarice generally predominates. But if religion has not cured this thirst for wealth, what has it done? The aged Christian expects to hear every day the voice of Jesus Christ, saying, "Come up hither!" The piety of age exhibits a certain mellowness of the Christian temper. Aged Christians form more candid and temperate judgments; they have more of the "charity that hopeth all things." Trusting in God is a principal part of the religion of Christ. In proportion as you have a longer experience of the goodness of God, you should place greater confidence in his truth. It is a consolation to aged Christians that they are come to a time when they shall soon pass from this world. You may now rejoice that so little remains to be suffered and endured. If men can do little for you, they can do little against you. You are just about to be born into eternity. You possess a full assurance of faith. You have had long experience of the loving-kindness of God. You can remember many a Bethel, and can say with the most graceful confidence, "I know in whom I have believed." This is perhaps the happiest period of life; shut out from many sorrows, and in the near prospect of perfect happiness. NOTE. It is said in the foregoing sermon that the epistle to Philemon is a masterpiece of epistolary composition, and that it will bear comparison with the finest specimens of this style of composition. It happens that we are able to compare it with one of the most admired letters of Pliny, one of the most admired 610 BRIEF NOTES OF A SERMON BY THE REV. ROBERT HALL, M.A. letter writers of antiquity. Within a few years of the time when Paul interceded with Philemon on behalf of Onesimus, Pliny wrote to his friend, Sabanianus, on a similar occasion. We think that the most prejudiced and hostile critic must concede the palm to the imprisoned apostle, for grace, delicacy, and elegance, as well as for touching pathos and forcible appeal. Let our readers judge for themselves: "To SABANIANUS.-Your freedman, whom you lately mentioned to me with displeasure, has been with me, and threw himself at my feet with as much submission as he could have done at yours. He earnestly requested me, with many tears, and even with all the eloquence of silent sorrow, to intercede for him; in short, he convinced me by his whole behaviour, that he sincerely repents of his fault. I am persuaded that he is thoroughly reformed, because he seems deeply sensible of his guilt. I know you are angry with him, and I know it is not without reason; but clemency can never show itself more laudably than when there is the most cause for resentment. You once had an affection for the man, and I hope will have again. In the meanwhile, let me only prevail with you to pardon him. If he should incur your displeasure hereafter, you will have the stronger plea in excuse for your anger as you show yourself the more amiable to him now. Concede something to his youth, to his tears, and to your own mildness of temper. Do not make him uneasy any longer, and, I will add too, do not make yourself so; for a man of your benevolence of heart cannot be angry without feeling great uneasiness. I am afraid that were I to join my entreaties with his, I should seem rather to compel than to request you to forgive him. Yet I will not scruple even to unite mine with his, and in so much the stronger terms, as I have sharply and severely reproved him, threatening never to interfere again in his behalf. But though it was proper to say this to him, in order to make him more fearful of offending, I do not say it to you. I may, perhaps, again have occasion to entreat you on his account, and even again obtain your for giveness-supposing, I mean, his fault such as it may become me to intercede for and you to pardon.-Farewell." In order to facilitate comparison, we subjoin Conybeare's version of the Epistle to Philemon : "Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timotheus our brother, to Philemon our beloved friend and fellow-labourer; and to Appia our beloved sister, and to Archippus our fellow-soldier, and to the church in thy house. "Grace be to you and peace, from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. "I thank my God, making mention of thee always in my prayers, because I hear of thy love and faith towards our Lord Jesus and towards all God's people, while I pray that thy faith may communicate itself to others and may become effectual in causing true knowledge of all the good that is in us, for Christ's service. For I have great joy and consolation in thy love, because the hearts of God's people have been comforted by thee, brother. "Wherefore, although in the authority of Christ I might boldly enjoin upon thee that which is befitting, yet for love's sake I rather beseech thee, as Paul the aged, and now also prisoner of Jesus Christ. I beseech thee for my son whom I have begotten in my chains-Onesimus, who formerly was to thee unprofitable, but now is profitable both to thee and me. Whom I have sent back to thee; but do thou receive him as my own flesh and blood. For I would gladly retain him with myself, that he might render service to me in thy stead, while I am a prisoner for preaching the gospel; but I am unwilling to do anything without thy decision, that thy kindness may not be constrained, but voluntary. For perhaps to this end was he parted from thee for a time that thou mightest possess him for ever; no longer as a bondsman, but as a brother beloved; very dear to me, but how much more to thee, being thine both in the flesh and in the Lord. If then thou count me in fellowship with thee, receive him as myself. But whatsoever he has wronged thee of or owes thee reckon it to my account (I, Paul, write this with my own hand); I will repay it thee; for I would not say to thee that thou owest me thine own self besides. Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee in the Lord; comfort my heart in Christ. "I write to thee with full confidence in thy obedience, knowing that thou wilt do even more than I say. But, moreover, prepare to receive me as thy guest, for I trust that through your prayers I shall be given to you. "There salute thee Epaphras, my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus; Marcus, Aristarchus, Demas, Lucas, my fellow-labourers. 66 The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit." ADAPTATIONS OF REVEALED TRUTH TO THE HUMAN MIND. THE IMAGINATIVE FACULTY. THESE illustrations may suffice, on this part of the subject, to evince the importance of this principle, and to explain its province. But we will now add, that, in fact, the imagination is brought into such exercise in the mental life of Christian believers, and that, as matter of history, revelation has kindled this principle to its highest exertion, and must ever continue to do so, in the religious life of believers. In this case it is employed on sacred scenes, and not on insignificant events in human history; it is engaged in realising divine truth in its ever-expanding glory and grandeur, and not in picturing illusions; it is engaged in the service of religion, and not in the service of superstition or vanity; but it is none the less true, that the imagination is the principle which is thus engaged; and it would be strange, seeing the immense power it has in human thought, and its mighty influence on human action and human happiness, if a revelation from heaven had left this principle to itself, or if it had opposed to it a continual check, forbidding it to dwell, to enlarge on, to picture in thought, the glory of the things that have been, or those which are yet to be. Hence we can now say, that in virtue of the marvel-scene of the Supernatural in the Bible, revealed truth exerts the "power of a new attraction" on the imagination, as well as on the affections. The heathen convert of former ages found not the universe stripped bare of its glory when he gave up his mythology. He found himself summoned to the contemplation of realities unspeakably more glorious than the miserable system of legends regarding his divinities, which his imagination had revelled in before. He found the forces of his mind in every faculty, his imagination amongst the rest, drawn to, employed, and fascinated by the shifting succession of a truly divine drama, and emphatically by the grandeur and mystery of the life-scenes, and death, and re-appearance of the Lord of Glory. We remark further, that the conceptions unfolded in revelation respecting the nature, attributes, and government of the Supreme Being, are such also as to make ever-enlarging demand on the faculty whose range and influence we are attempting to illustrate. We must request the reader, here again, to advert to the view already suggested of the nature of this faculty. We wish especially to insist on the exclusion of the ideas of the unreal, and of the picturesque, as being essential to its objective contemplations. They are not essential. Imagination, of course, can picture the unreal and false, as in the incidents of the romance and the drama; but it can dwell also upon the thought of heaven, or of the infinite amplitude of space, or on the uncommenced duration of an eternity past; and these views, not being perceptions, or remembrances, are, however, contemplations of the real and the existing; and we frame the dim and ever-expanding conceptions of them by aid of the imagination. Thus reality is not excluded from its province, but simply the perceived and experienced, which appeal to other faculties. Its contemplations extend to the unknown real, as well as to ideal creations of the unreal. Neither again are its creations necessarily pictures, which can be represented as with sensible outline to the eye. Such pictures are part of its creations, and, as the term imagination itself would seem to imply, they may be the starting-point of its combinations, being the earliest and the most facile of its visions. But the faculty of combining the new, or of expanding the proportions of known elements to the vast and glorious, is not confined to the representation of visible outline. The characters of our first parents in their perfect state, as given by Milton; the characters assigned to angels, to Abdiel or Michael, are as much the result of the imaginative faculty in the poet, as his description of the garden of Eden, or of the empyreal glories of the heaven of heavens. The last is a picture to the eye, so to speak; the former are representations, equally intelligible, made to our spiritual intuition of excellence and goodness. Let it not, then, be deemed a violent extension of the range of this faculty, if we assign to it, under the limitation, of course, of truth and reason, the conceptions we form of the glories of the Divine character, or of the infinite attributes of the Divine nature. The extent, the infinity of these, must ever remain unsearchable, compelling awe and adoration, and will for ever transcend the thought of created intelligence; but the conceptions of them in the mind are progressive, and can go on augmenting without end; and in proportion as the mind intently devotes itself to these meditations, does it realize, in ever-growing degree, the impression of the great truths which are held as certainties by faith. What, then, is the expansion given to these views by the representations of Divine truth? and to what faculty does such expansion appeal, besides that of faith and reason, for their intellectual verification? To these inquiries we answer, that revelation, on all the subjects referred to, opens the view to infinity, and that, in virtue of this, it summons forth, it tasks imagination to the highest point of its capacity, and entrances it with delight in the proportion in which its contemplations go on enlarging. The infinity revealed in ever-receding extent and grandeur, opens a field of thought which meets, and which alone can meet, the endless desire of the mind for something more and further at each limit of its advance, and for that which shall endlessly transcend its own present thought. We express these thoughts very feebly and imperfectly, but we must be content with these faint indications of truth on subjects, by the very supposition, incomprehensible. If now we turn to the sacred volume, we meet with conceptions there, which thrill us with their greatness and mystery in a manner very different from the effect of the sublimest representations of human genius in literature, except such as are borrowed from revelation, and still more different from that of the fantastic legends of heathen mythology. The first truths concerning the Divine existence and attributes given in the Scriptures are familiar enough to men's minds as statements, and are firmly accepted as certainties; but they transcend, while they endlessly excite, the imagination in the contemplation of them. When we think of the self-existence of God, of his creative will in its omnipotence,-of his infinite presence through space and through infinite duration,-of eternity, past and to come to us, as |