SERMON XIII. PSALM CXXXVII. VERSE I. By the waters of Babylon, we sat down and wept, when we remembered thee, Oh Sion! THIS beautiful Psalm was written in commemoration of the Babylonish captivity, written, if we may judge, from the lively feelings it exhibits, soon after the period of that memorable event; and, in truth, it is not possible to read it without emotion: It tells a tale of sorrow with that simple melancholy which the heart can only feel, and the imagination never counterfeit: They hung up their harps on the willow trees, which is not Christian. Christianity guides us to another world, by showing us how to act in this; in precepts more, or less general, it enacts, and limits, every human duty; the world is the theatre where we are to show whether we are Christians in profession, or in deed; and there is no action of our lives, which concerns the interests of others, in which we do not either violate, or obey, a Christian law; I cannot, therefore, illustrate a moral duty, without, at the same time, enforcing a precept of our religion. The love of our country has, in the late scenes acted in the world, been so often made a pretext for bad ambition, and so often given birth to crude, and ignorant violence, that many good men entertain no very great relish for the virtue, and some are, in truth, tired, and disgusted with the very name of it; but this mode of thinking, though very natural, and very common, is, above all others, that which goes to perpetuate error in the world; if good men are to cherish in secret the idea, that any theory of duties to our country is romantic, and absurd, because bad men and foolish men have made it an engine of crime, or found it a source of error; if there is to be this constant action, and reaction between extreme opinions; the sentiments of mankind in eternal vibration between one error, and another, can never rest upon the middle point of truth. Let it be our pride to derive our principles, not from times, and circumstances, but from reason, and religion, and to struggle against that mixture of indolence, and virtue which condemns the use, because it will not discriminate the abuse, which it abhors. In spite of the prostitution of this venerable name, there is, and there ever will be, a Christian patriotism, a great system of duties which man owes to the sum of human beings with whom he lives: to deny it is folly; to neglect it is crime. The love of our country has been ridiculed by some modern enthusiasts, as too narrow a field for the benevolence of an enlightened mind; they are for comprehending the whole human race in our affections, and deem any partiality shown to the particular country in which we happen to be born, as a narrow, and unphilosophical preference: Now, it would be difficult to say, whether complete selfishness, or universal philanthropy, is the most likely to mislead us from that sound practical goodness, in which the beauty of Christianity, and the merit of a Christian, consist. Our sphere of thoughts has hardly any limits, our sphere of action hardly any extent; we may speculate on worlds, we must act in families, in districts, and in kingdoms; and if we contract a distaste for the good we can do, because it is not equal to the good we can conceive, we only sacrifice deeds to words, and rule our lives by maxims of the most idle, and ostentatious sentiment. One of the first passions by which the imagination of an able, and a good youth is inflamed, is the love of his country; but he often manages it in such a manner, as to convert it into a venial error rather than a virtue; I say venial, because those errors which proceed from the good, and generous dispositions of youth, deserve indulgence, and are seldom perpetuated but when they are treated with harshness. All the splendid |