The following message was recorded at Antioch Presbyterian Church, an historic and charter congregation of the Presbyterian Church in America, ministering to upstate South Carolina since 1843. Come and visit us at the crossroads of Greenville and Spartanburg counties. Experience our past and be a part of our future. For more information, visit antiochpca.com. The following is a recording of Whatsoever Things Are True, classic discourses on truth, by Dr. James Henley Thornwell. Discourse 5, Faithfulness. The second branch of practical truth, which we have denominated faithfulness, consists in making our actions correspond to our professions, in performing our engagements and fulfilling the expectations which we have by any means knowingly and voluntarily excited. Cicero makes faith the fundamental principle of justice and derives the word in Latin from the correspondence it exacts betwixt words and deeds. The English term is said to be the third-person singular of the indicative mood of an Anglo-Saxon verb signifying to engage, to covenant, to contract. The definition, however, extracted by Horn took from this etymology. The engagements of men to which faithfulness extends may be embraced under the heads of promises, pledges, and vows. These three classes, in their relations to each other, are an instance of moral climax, and furnish a beautiful illustration of the ascending scale of moral obligation. The pledge is more solemn than the promise, and the vow more solemn than the pledge. The peculiarities which distinguish the pledge and vow from an ordinary promise impart an additional sacredness to the duty. They are species of which it is the genus. They include consequently all that it includes, and something characteristic of themselves. And as the differences by which they are distinguished from it and from each other involve moral elements of the highest importance, there must be a corresponding solemnity of obligation and a corresponding malignity of guilt in case of transgression. The pledge turns upon a point of honor and stakes a man's reputation for integrity upon compliance with his engagement. As the whole virtue of a female is summed up in her chastity, so the whole character of the man for probity and uprightness is summed up in this single instance of redeeming his pledge. To break a pledge, therefore, is not only unjust but disgraceful. The vow is of the nature of an oath. It is an act of religious worship, and to disregard it is to be guilty of irreverence to God. There is fraud in all breaches of engagement, whether of promises, pledges, or vows, that being the very essence of unfaithfulness. But to break a promise is simply fraudulent. To break a pledge is infamous, and to break a vow is profane. He who violates a promise tramples upon truth and justice. He who violates a pledge tramples upon character, and he who violates a vow tramples upon God. In illustrating the duty of faithfulness, I shall begin with promises and restrict myself to two points, their definitions and the grounds of their obligation. According to the ordinary acceptation of the term, the essence of a promise consists in the peculiar mode of signifying to the exclusion of all reference to the matter or thing signified. Whenever by the voluntary use of signs, whether verbal or otherwise, we knowingly excite expectations in the mind of another, whatever may be the nature of the things expected, we are said to promise. The etymology of the word has perhaps contributed to the currency of this meaning. It is a paronym of prometere, to send ahead, as if the prominent idea were the projection of the mind of another into the future. Qui policentor ses vacius, verbis aliquem in longum mitant, ut qui non tam, faciant quam, aliquando se facturos recipiant. If the definition of a promise is to be restricted exclusively to the mode of signifying, it is manifest that promises are not essentially obligatory. Whether they shall be binding or not is an accidental circumstance. There is nothing in themselves, nothing in their own nature, considered simply as promises, which can give rise to the obligation. They may or may not do so. But when they do so, it is not because they are promises, but because of other considerations. This statement, though a legitimate deduction from the definition in question and from the loose language of ordinary life, is an open and flagrant contradiction to the common feeling of the race. There is not a deeper or more pervading sentiment than that of the sacredness of covenants. The common sense of men is always right, though language does not always adequately represent it. There is a distinction in the signification of words analogous to that between the spontaneous and reflective processes of reason. A philosopher, therefore, should not look to the meaning which floats upon the surface and which a term has received from accidental circumstances. He should penetrate into the hearts of men and find out the meaning which has real emphasis there. That is its true signification, and the one to which he should restrict it, which without reflection finds an echo in the soul. In the case before us, the associations which are instantly awakened by the term are all of a solemn and sacred character. Its primary emphatic reference is only to the class of declarations which are felt to be obligatory. It has been applied to others in consequence of the palpable resemblance in form, but this is a reflective application, which, as it does not represent, so it does not disturb the spontaneous feelings which cluster around the word. It is still univocal to the heart. If, then, in conformity with the real convictions of mankind, nothing can be regarded as strictly and properly a promise which is not essentially obligatory, the definition must include something more than the mode of signifying. It must also take account of the matter. As that is not to be considered as a deed in law, though it may be loosely called so, which conveys no right, so that should not be regarded as a promise, in the ethical sense, which creates no duty. It may have the form, but not the substance, the appearance, but not the reality. Those semblances of the thing in which the language of a promise is employed, but in which the life of a promise is not found, I would call apparent promises, while those which create obligation and give rise to rights, I would denominate real. Then the proposition would be universal that all real promises are binding, and binding precisely because they are promises, and all the cases in which divines and casuists have held them to be void could be explained at once upon the simple principle that they are not cases of promises at all, they are only counterfeit coin. They have the shape, the stamp, the appearance of the true currency, but they want the gold. I would therefore define a real promise as any form of voluntary signification which has a known tendency to excite an expectation in the mind of another in regard to a matter which is possible and right. Here the motive signifying and the thing signified, the matter and the form, both enter into the specific difference. It is not enough that expectations are excited or means employed which are suited to excite them. The things expected must be lawful in themselves and within the competency of him that promises. But we can best vindicate the propriety of the definition by a brief examination of its parts. 1. any mode of voluntary signification without limitation to any particular class of signs. This includes tacit as well as express promises. It is obviously indifferent by what means thought is communicated. The important thing is that it is actually done. To restrict promises to words is to make them the only language of the mind to the exclusion of actions, gestures, and signs, which may be equally made the vehicle of thought and the instruments of exciting expectation. 2. The signification must be voluntary, otherwise the promise is not a moral act and cannot be attributed to him who makes it. 3. Which has a known tendency to excite expectation. Paley makes the essence of a promise depend on the fact that expectations are excited. This is to resolve the cause into the effect. The promise must be conceived as existing before expectations can be conceived as produced. The fact of their production depends not upon the fact that a promise has been made, but that a promise has been believed, and faith in the author is essential to the reality and obligation of a promise. It is not simply his own act which binds the agent, but the effect it has produced. It would follow, too, that a liar could not make a promise, because he could not create expectation. The promise is clearly the act of the man that makes it, and as it comes from him independently of any influence upon others, it possesses every element that is necessary to a perfect obligation. It is indifferent whether it is believed or not. All that is important is that if believed, it should give rise to expectation, it should be a cause suited to produce the effect, whether it succeeds in doing so or not. The author must know that it has this tendency. He must understand the import of his signs, or they would not convey the thoughts of his mind. The expectations which the signs are fitted to excite will always be, with an honest man, the expectations he aims to produce. His language will convey his real meaning. But if he is disposed to be dishonest and evasive, he is held responsible for the known tendencies of the cause which he has put in operation. The rule of Paley, that a promise is always to be interpreted in the sense in which the promiser apprehended at the time that the promisee received it, results immediately from the definition we have given. 4. I have ventured to add to the definition in regard to a matter which is possible and right. These, it is universally conceded, are conditions of the obligation of a promise. No man can be bound to do what it is physically impossible that he can do, or what contradicts the principles of right. He can obviously never be his duty to do wrong, and just as little can it be his duty to exercise a power which has never been imparted to him. If he was made a man, he can only be required to do the work of a man. Now, as all the other cases in which promises are not binding may be explained by showing that they are not promises at all, that something is wanting to complete them, or that they have been formally cancelled and annulled, as they are confessedly apparent and not real, it would contribute to simplify the whole subject if those which are impossible and unlawful were reduced to the same category. Any man who will take the trouble to examine Paley's enumeration of the cases in which promises are void will see that, with the exception of the impossible and unlawful, the promise is either defective in form or has ceased to exist. A promise before acceptance, that is, before notice to the promisee, is manifestly no promise, because it wants the necessary element of signification. It is, as Paley says, nothing more than a resolution of the mind. Promises released by the promisee have just as manifestly ceased to exist. The right which was created has been relinquished, and the obligation has expired with it. Erroneous promises are not promises, because their being was contingent. It was suspended upon a condition which has confessedly failed. If now we make possibility and lawfulness essential to the being as they are to the obligation of a promise, the proposition would be unlimited, that all real promises are binding, and that those are only apparent, only shadows and semblances, which entail no obligation of performance. These apparent promises would then be reduced to two classes, those which are defective in form, embracing the last three heads of Paley, and those which are defective in matter, embracing his first three heads. The next point to be considered is the ground of the obligation of promises. The advantages of good faith are so palpable and manifest. It is so indispensable to the very existence of society that the utilitarian makes out a very plausible case in resolving the duty of it into considerations of expediency. Paley has made the best of the argument. He has set in a very clear light not only the importance but the necessity of confidence, and then concludes that what we cannot do without, we must have, simply because we cannot do without it. But the truth is, its importance depends upon its rectitude. Society is a union of moral and intelligent beings, and it is because they are moral that virtue is their security and happiness. It is the law of their nature and, of course, is the condition of their prosperity and well-being. Without detracting, therefore, in the least from what Paley has said upon the utility of confidence, we proceed to show that the real ground upon which promises are binding is that they involve moral elements which are the immediate data of conscience. These elements are the principles of truth and justice. A man is bound to keep his promise from the twofold consideration that his own veracity and the rights of another are at stake. 1. The law of sincerity requires that the promisor should signify the purpose precisely as it exists in his own mind. He cannot mean one thing and say another without falsehood. This law, however, requires nothing more than the honest expression of present intentions. 2. But the law of truth goes farther. It requires that a man's words shall correspond to the reality of things. It is not enough in regard to past facts that a man be honest and sincere in the declarations which he makes. He must have used all diligence to guard against deception and mistake. If what we have called the remote matter of truth be wanting, he is culpable unless his mistake arises from causes beyond his control. The same principle holds in regard to future facts. The event must correspond to our words unless it can be shown that though we honestly believe that it would correspond when we made the declaration, it has failed to do so through no fault of ours. The language of a promise is absolute and assertory. It positively affirms two things, a present intention and the continuance of that intention until the thing is done. It declares that a thing shall be, and as its existence depends upon himself, the promisor is bound to realize the fact at the appointed time. He is bound to make things consistent with his words. Hence, he who fails to keep a promise is universally detested as a liar, not because he is supposed to have been insincere at the time of making it, but because the thing has not taken place according to his word. He is responsible for the want of material truth. because it was clearly in his power to produce it. 3. But what particularly enforces the obligation of a promise is the right, created by the expectation it excites to have it fulfilled. It is distinguished from a simple resolution in that it does not terminate upon ourselves. It extends to another party and gives him a claim of justice which he did not possess before. Hence, a breach of promise is not only a lie, but a fraud. Note. We should remember that when we bind ourselves by a promise to give any good thing to another or to do anything for the benefit of another, the right of the thing promised passes over from us to the person to whom the promise is made, as much as if we had given him a legal bond with all the formalities of signing and sealing. We have no power to recall or reverse it without his leave, from Watt's Sermon on Philippians 4.8. End note. The connection of rights with promises is clearly discoverable in the case of contracts. There the engagement is mutual, but the transaction is only a reciprocation of promises. No moral elements enter into it which do not enter into every other promise. Now, there is nothing of which the parties to a contract are more distinctly conscious than that they have a right to demand from each other the fulfillment of their stipulations. It is true that the law recognizes a right only in the case of valuable consideration, but the design of the distinction is to protect men from the consequences of rash and ill-considered acts. The presumption is that what has been done without a proper motive has been done thoughtlessly and hastily. What shows that this is the spirit of the law is the fact that it always presumes a consideration where the promise has been made under such sanctions as to imply deliberation. There is no essential difference insofar as they are promises, and consequently insofar as moral obligation is concerned between the nudum pactum of the law and those contracts which it undertakes to enforce. The consideration is not the source of the right. It is only the cause of the promise that gives the right. The consideration is a guarantee that the man has promised with his eyes open that he knew what he was doing. The law interposes it as a security to itself that it shall not oppress the weak. In the case of promises to do unlawful or impossible things, there can obviously be no right on the part of the promisee to demand a fulfillment. It is a contradiction in terms that he can have a right to make his neighbor do wrong in a flagrant absurdity that a creature can exact from his fellow what even God cannot enjoin. But while there is no injustice in the violation of these promises, there is enormous fraud in making them when the unlawfulness and impossibility are known at the time. The man shows himself reckless of truth, and reckless of his neighbor's right. He manifests a contempt of veracity and justice. He is guilty of the same species of crime as that of him who solemnly pretends to transfer the property of another, or who knowingly circulates counterfeit coin, or who forges a note or a bill of exchange. As in other cases the falsehood and fraud consist in breaking, here they consist in making the promise. The crime is the same, but it dates from a different point. The same eternal principles of right which proclaim, as with a voice of thunder, thou shalt keep all real promises, just as solemnly command, thou shalt make no unlawful engagements. In cases in which the unlawfulness and impossibility were not known at the time of making the promise, it may be fairly presumed that the promise was tacitly conditioned by them, and though there may be rashness, there is nothing of fraud and engagements made upon mistake. The implied condition has failed and the promise is at an end. Before dismissing the subject of promises, there are two questions of casuistry which deserve a moment's consideration and which may be regarded as a test of the principles we have maintained. The first is whether extorted promises are binding. The second is whether when a promise proceeds upon an unlawful condition and the condition has been fulfilled, the promise is to be kept. That is, whether there can ever be a real promise which is unlawfully conditioned. 1. As to extorted promises, the only point to be settled is the subjective condition of the agent. Note. See on this subject, besides the common treatises, Taylor's Rule of Conscience, Book 4, Chapter 1, Rule 7, and note. Did he voluntarily signify and did he know the import of the signs he employed? If he was in such a state of agitation and alarm that he could not command the use of his faculties, if, in other words, he was deprived for the time of the essential elements of moral agency, he could no more be responsible for his acts than an idiot or a lunatic. But if he knew what he was doing, no violence of fear, no external pressure can exempt him from responsibility. The act was voluntary, though not chosen for itself. The man was in circumstances which led him to prefer it as the least of two evils. He therefore in a moral sense deliberately promised and the obligation is the same as in all other cases. The true security against being drawn into an engagement which we are subsequently reluctant to perform is that firm reliance upon the providence of God which enables us to look upon danger with contempt. or to regard nothing as a danger which does not shake our claim upon the divine protection. Let the heart be established by confidence in Him, and then there is no ground for the fear of evil tidings. The preservation of integrity should be superior to all other considerations, and it is a miserable confession of weakness that the love of life or limb has been stronger than the love of virtue. No Christian man should ever be prevailed on by the servile motive of fear to make engagements which his sense of propriety condemns. Why should he fear who has the arms of the Almighty to sustain him? What shield like that of a good conscience in the favor of God? Of all men, the true Christian should exemplify the description of the heathen poet, justum ac tenacem, propaceti virum, non civium ardor prava dubentium, non vultus instantis tyranni, menti quatet solida neque auster, dux inquieti turbidus haedreae, nec fulminatis magna manus jovis, si fractus ilabator orbis, Those circumstances in which cowardice yields and puts in the plea of extortion constitute the occasions on which the Christian hero may illustrate the magnanimity of his principles. Virtue becomes awful when it subordinates to itself the whole external world. A good man struggling with the storms of fate, unshaken in his allegiance to God and steady in his purpose never to be seduced into wrong, is the noblest spectacle which the earth can present. There is something unutterably grand in the moral attitude of him who, with his eye fixed upon the favor of God, rises superior to earth and hell, and amid the wrecks of a thousand barks around him, steers his course with steadiness and peace. 2. To the other question concerning the effect of an unlawful condition upon the validity of a promise, I am constrained to return a very different answer from that which has been given by most recent writers whom I have been able to consult. Note, I am gratified in being able to state that Dr. Adams, late president of Charleston College, is an honorable exception. See his Moral Philosophy, page 210. End note. Paley says, Note, Moral Philosophy, Part B, 3, Part 1, C, 5. End note. Quote, it is a performance being unlawful, and not any unlawfulness in the subject or motive of the promise which destroys its validity. Therefore, a bribe after the vote is given, the wages of prostitution, the reward of any crime after the crime is committed, ought, if promised, to be paid. For the sin and mischief, by this supposition, are over, and it will be neither more nor less for the performance of the promise. End quote. Quote, it is sometimes made a question, end quote, says Dr. Well, note, elements of morality, book three, chapter 15, section 386, end note, quote, supposing such an informal contract immorally made, whether when the immoral end is answered, it is a duty to perform the rest of the contract. For instance, if a person were elected to an office of public trust on promise of sums of money to the electors, whether after the election, it is his duty to pay these sums. We may remark that the question here is not what he is to do as an innocent man, 4. By the supposition, he is a guilty one, having been concerned in an immoral bargain. If the question be, what is he to do as a repentant man, convinced of his guilt and wishing henceforth to do what is right, the answer is that he must pay. There is no reason why he should add to the violation of his absolute duty, the violation of his relative duties to the promises. If in his repentance he wishes not to complete an immoral transaction, he is to recollect that the immoral transaction is completed by his election. If he wished to mark his hatred of the offense, he may signify his meaning more clearly by expressing his repentance and paying the money than by keeping it, which may be interpreted as adding avarice and falsehood to the violation of public duties." Upon these statements, I have to remark first that Paley's solution is inconsistent with the principles of his own philosophy. The effect of keeping such promises is to encourage the making of them, and upon the doctrine of general consequences, the evil of the example, they ought not to be kept. Quote, the sin and mischief, end quote, are not over. If it were universally felt and acted on that such engagements were not binding, there would soon be an end to them. It is a very doctrine of Paley and Wewel that gives them currency in the world. In the next place, Dr. Wawel's solution proceeds upon a distinction between relative and absolute duties, which is purely fictitious and arbitrary. He affirms that in the case of an immoral promise, there is an absolute duty to break it. Quote, in all such cases, the promisor by his promise has rejected his moral nature and can only resume it by repudiating his own act. End quote. But there is a relative duty to the promisee to keep it. Now, if I owe a relative duty to the promisee, he has a moral claim upon me in the language of Dr. Wawel, in which a moral claim is equivalent to an imperfect right. There is, consequently, a collision of absolute and relative duty. If, therefore, a man keeps his promise, he does his duty and yet sins, or if he breaks his promise, he does his duty and sins. That is, the same act is both right and wrong at the same time. The absurdity is intolerable, and yet it cannot be avoided without repudiating the distinction in question. The true state of the case is that the absolute duty is the only duty involved, and the effect of it is to prevent the rise of the relative duty which ensues upon a lawful promise. It is the absolute principles of right which determine obligation in the concrete instances of life. There never can be a duty, relative or absolute, to do a wrong thing. It is a contradiction in terms. No man can ever have a claim upon another for a violation of the eternal principles of right. As, then, the existence of a relative duty depends in every case upon the lawfulness of the promise, Dr. Willow, instead of resolving the difficulty, has quietly begged the question. He has assumed that there is a relative duty to the promisee, when that is the very point in dispute, and vindicates his assumption by maintaining that in all cases of immoral promises it exists, though, when the performance is unlawful, the superior importance of the absolute duty supersedes it. 3. To me it seems that the true answer is that an unlawful condition renders the promise absolutely null and void. That condition, in the language of the schools, is no moral entity, and ex nihilo nihil fit is as true in morals as physics, the man who stipulated to perform it was confessedly not bound. The other party had, and could have, no right or claim upon him. His act, therefore, has no moral value. The promise and its fulfillment, however, are only parts of one and the same process. If now, at the time of making the unlawful stipulation, the maker was not bound by it, the other party was equally free from obligation in relation to his promise. The promiser was bound only upon the supposition that the promisee was bound. Now, if the making and fulfillment of a promise are parts of the same act, and no obligation accrued at the time of making, it is clear that none can ever subsequently arise. The moral relation of the parties undergoes no changes. Four. It should further be recollected that to maintain the validity of such promises is completely to reverse the cardinal principle of moral government. It is to reward the wicked and to punish the righteous. There is something inexpressibly revolting in either giving or receiving the wages of iniquity. I cannot conceive of a position in which a man more openly and flagrantly sets at defiance the eternal rule of justice, or more shockingly travesties the moral administration of his God, than when he dispenses favors to the guilty upon the ground, that they are guilty. This attitude of bold contradiction to the law of the divine government is enough to brand with enormity the doctrine which justifies it. He cannot be right who mocks instead of imitating God. I have no doubt that the moral principle which I am here repudiating and which is so generally maintained is a prolific parent of infamy, outrage, and crime. It is a devil whose name is Legion. Let it be cast out from society and many a man who has been the victim of its power will be found clothed and in his right mind sitting at the feet of Jesus. One consideration which serves to uphold this species of promises is the apprehension that, if, when the unlawful condition has been performed, the other party should refuse to execute his engagements, he will be exposed to the imputation of mean and interested motives. He would not be likely to receive any credit for a high sense of integrity. If he was not too conscientious to begin the sin, the presumption would be that it was something besides conscience which kept him from completing it. This equivocal position is the penalty which repentance must pay for the crime. It is a grievous cross, but it is a cross that must be born. It is a memorial of transgression, which serves at once to promote severity to ourselves and charity to others. a broken limb or a bone out of joint that keeps one in constant recollection of his fall. I cannot dismiss this subject of promises without alluding to the peculiar interest which attaches to it in the mind of the true believer, in consequence of the prominence which is given to the promises of God in the dispensation of the Gospel. The faithfulness of Jehovah is our only hope, and for the purpose of alluring our confidence as well as illustrating His own grace, He deals with His creatures in the way of covenant. He condescendingly gives them a right which emboldens their access to the throne of grace. The promises, all yea and amen in Christ Jesus, are the sure warrant that they shall not be received with coldness nor sent empty away. Hardly a blessing is bestowed which is not apprehended in some promise before it is enjoyed in experience. a faithful and covenant-keeping God, these are the precious titles by which a sinner loves to recognize the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Gospel is nothing but a great charter of promises, and that man must renounce his inheritance in the covenant of grace and abjure the hope of everlasting life, who can think or speak lightly of what the blessed God has sanctified by His own example. In reverencing the sacredness of promises, we reverence Him who is emphatically a God to sinners only when in faith they apprehend His covenant. In the preciousness of His promises, we have an illustration of the moral value of faithfulness and the fidelity which we delight to attribute to Him we should endeavor to imitate in all our own engagements. Be ye perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect. Whatsoever things are true, think on these things. Pledges. Pledges under the Roman law were properly securities for the payment of a debt. The thing pledged was put into the possession of the creditor with a right to sell it and indemnify himself against the loss in case the debtor failed to comply with his contract. If, for example, a man borrowed money and deposited his jewels with the lender, In token that he would repay this sum, the jewels became a pledge or pawn. In war and among public enemies, the security for the faithful execution of a treaty or the performance of any specific stipulations was called a hostage. Whatever was pledged or pawned was, of course, possessed of such value that the desire to redeem it would be likely to be stronger than any inducements to violate faith. The fundamental notion of a pledge, therefore, is that of a security, a protection to the promisee against injury or loss. In bargains of sale or contracts of debt, the thing pledged was always something that the creditor might sell. In treaties among hostile armies, hostages were usually persons of consequence, whose redemption was of greater importance than any incidental advantages that might accrue from breach of engagement. In either case, a pledge was a distinct, tangible, palpable thing, and of such value as to be a real guarantee of good faith. Transferred from bargains and treaties to a peculiar and solemn form of promises, the pledge still retains its fundamental meaning of security, but ceases to be a tangible commodity. In these cases, it is a man's honor which he puts in pawn as a guarantee of the faithful execution of his promise. The language of a pledge is, I renounce all claims to integrity and honor. I am willing to be excluded from society, to be stripped of character, to be an object of contempt and detestation, if I am found wanting infidelity to my engagements. The faith which is pledged under such sanctions cannot be violated without aggravated guilt. Character is not a thing to be sported with, infamy and disgrace, not trifles to be laughed at. And he who deals with honor as a bauble will experience a penalty that may well make him tremble. It cannot be too earnestly inculcated upon the young that to break a pledge is apt to be followed by the total ruin of one's virtue. Transgression is not a transitory thing. The single act is soon done and over, but it leaves an influence behind, which, like the adder's poison, may grow and operate and spread until it reaches the seat of life and triumphs in the ruin of its victim. No act of the will, it is an indestructible and fearful law of our being, ever passes away without leaving its mark upon the character. There is a double tendency in every voluntary determination, one to propagate itself, the other to weaken or support, according to its own moral quality, the general principle of virtue. Every sin, therefore, imparts a proclivity to other acts of the same sort, and disturbs and deranges at the same time the whole moral constitution. It tends to the formation of special habits and to the superinducing of a general debility of principle which lays a man open to defeat from every species of temptation. The extent to which a single act shall produce this double effect depends upon its intensity. Its intensity depends upon the fullness and energy of will which will enter into it, and the energy of will depends upon the strength of the motives resisted. An act, therefore, which concludes an earnest and protracted conflict which has not been reached without a stormy debate in the soul, which marks the victory of evil over the love of character, sensibility to shame, the authority of conscience and the fear of God. An act of this sort concentrates in itself the essence of all the single determinations which preceded it and possesses a power to generate a habit and to derange the constitution equal to that which the whole series of resistances to duty, considered as so many individual instances of transgression, is fitted to impart. By one such act, a man is impelled with an amazing momentum in the path of evil. He lives years of sin in a day or an hour. It is always a solemn crisis when the first step is to be taken in a career of guilt against which nature and education or any other strong influences protest. The results are unspeakably perilous when a man has to fight his way into crime. The victory creates an epic in his life. From that hour, without a miracle of grace, he is a lost man. The earth is strewed with wrecks of character which were occasioned by one fatal determination at a critical point in life. when the will stood face to face with duty and had to make its decision deliberately and intensely for evil. That act threw the whole energy of being into the direction of sin. A young man has been trained in a righteous horror of gambling. He looks upon cards or dice with shuddering and dread. His whole soul is set against them. In an ill-omened hour he is tempted to play. The associations of childhood, his father's counsels, his mother's warnings, his sister's love, the convictions of his own judgment, the fearful consequences of the crime both in this world and that which is to come. Every moral energy which conscience, religion, and the love of character can summon rise up to protest against the deed. He's staggered. He hesitates. He almost resolves to flee the temptation, but a spell is on him. The seducer pursues him. The conflict is renewed. He's in agony and at last resolves in desperation and madness to terminate the struggle. To break a pledge is a critical act of the same kind. It is an act of concentrated potency for evil. It is a victory after a severe contest, and in the triumph of evil, sensibility to shame and tenderness of conscience have been paralyzed or lost. The man feels that he is disgraced and degraded and gives himself up to infamy and vice without a further struggle. Character is gone and all motive for honorable effort has ceased to exist. As in the case of the female who has lost her chastity, his virtue has perished with his honor. It is a solemn thing to stake character upon the hazard of a single act, and he who has done it should feel that nothing less than the whole moral history of his being is involved in the issue. When the pledge is apprehended in its true significance in relations, and the natural effects of a breach of it according to the fixed principles of human nature are duly appreciated, it will be seen to be one of those critical obligations which should be approached with somewhat of the awful reverence that belongs to the oath. It should never be made cheap. It is a security and should only be resorted to on important occasions where important interests are at stake. But once made in regard to a matter which is possible and right, a man should die rather than forego it. Death is tolerable, but real dishonor cannot be born. Sacred as the pledge is, however, it can never justify wrong. After what has been said upon the subject of promises to which the pledge generically belongs, it would be unnecessary to add anything here were it not that the feelings of the young are apt to mislead them upon this point and betray them into contradictions which always a snare may terminate in permanent injury to character. The alternative seems to be dishonor or an unlawful act. Both are evils, and upon the principle of choosing the least, an individual instance of transgression is preferred to a general shock of the moral sensibilities. The young man says, I had rather do this particular unlawful act than sacrifice the whole security for good which I find in a delegate's regard for reputation. In this predicament, students in college are very often involved. They enter into combinations against legitimate authority under the sanctions of a pledge. They feel that their honor is at stake, and that their faith must be redeemed at whatever sacrifice to their own prospects, the wishes of their parents, or the prosperity of the institution against which they have conspired. The feeling, that of the sacredness of honor, is a noble one, and should not be rudely shocked. But the point is that true honor in this case requires that the pledge should be broken. It was a grievous sin to make it. But having been made, nothing remains but the duty which extends to every instance of transgression, of immediate repentance. The evil must be undone. The man who has taken a wrong step should instantly retrace it. There can, in the nature of things, be no obligation to persevere. Unlawful pledges, like unlawful promises, create no rights. And as the attempt to give a security for evil only deepens the crime, the pledge is only a counterfeit stipulation of honor. The principle which would attach dishonor to the breach of such unlawful engagements, if legitimately carried out, would unhinge the entire system of morals. It assumes that man can set aside the law of God, that the stern prohibitions of eternal rectitude can be changed into transient commands by the will of a feeble creature. that the word of man may become superior to the word of his maker. No, let God be true and every man a liar. And when he speaks, let us promptly obey whatever may have been our previous engagements to evil. The effects which result from the breach of a lawful pledge and which render it so critical cannot obtain in this case. The spirit which here operates is the spirit of repentance. The act is an act of virtue and its tendency consequently is to strengthen the general principle of virtue. To keep the pledge, however, as an act of transgression has all the influences which essentially adhere in sin. We say, therefore, confidently to the young, be cautious never to be entangled in engagements of this sort, but if in an evil hour you have been seduced into them, take the first opportunity of reasserting your allegiance to right. There is not a more touching proof of God's condescension to the weakness of His creatures than the use of the pledge on His part to assure our hearts of the immutability of His counsel. His promises, though felt to be yea and amen in Christ Jesus, appeal to considerations less personal and distinct, the abstract principles of truth and justice. But the pledge is an appeal to His honor, or in the language of Scripture, to His glory, which stands in the same relation to Him that honor does to us. We cannot disbelieve without the most revolting blasphemy when God puts His character in pawn for His Word. He addresses us on a ground which comes home to us with peculiar power. He transfers to Himself our regard for reputation. And if we instinctively shrink from whatever is branded with ignominy and disgrace, how can we imagine that the very fountain of purity shall become corrupt? The very source of honor defiled. The glory of God is an expression that contains the most impressive sanction that the imagination of man can conceive. When God plights His glory, He plights His right to the love, homage, and adoration of His creatures. He plights all claim upon their worship, veneration, and obedience. He virtually engages to abdicate His throne and to be stripped of the prerogatives that belong to Him, to lose His own self-respect, to forfeit forever His name if He should be found unfaithful to His word. What a security to the heirs of the promise! How can we hesitate in committing our souls, our interests for time and for eternity, to that everlasting covenant which is charged with the glory of God? What broader foundation could be laid for our faith? as if it were not enough to appeal to us upon the eternal principles of truth and justice and righteousness, as if these were too abstract and impalpable to arouse our sympathies and wake up a warm and living interest, God comes to us in a relation which is preeminently personal and stands before us as one who has a name to vindicate and puts his faithfulness on a ground which, in the case of man, a creature like ourselves, we recognize as the most sacred and solemn of all sanctions. As certainly as God cannot deny Himself, as certainly as His own glory is the end of all His works, the scope of every manifestation of His being, as certainly as His own great name is dear to Him, so certainly shall every pledge of His love be redeemed. one word of all the good things he hath spoken shall ever fall to the ground. Heaven and earth may pass away, but the word of the Lord abideth forever, and this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto us. We cannot sufficiently adore that goodness which has stooped to our infirmities and illustrated this faithfulness by the analogy of principles, which address themselves with power to every human heart, and which shut us up to the alternative of faith, or the most shocking and abominable imputations upon the divine character. I conclude the subject of our engagements with our fellow men with a caution that cannot be too earnestly inculcated upon the young, and that is, they should never by facility of temper, by reluctance to give offense or anxiety to pleas, permit themselves to be betrayed into expressions naturally fitted to excite expectations when it is not their purpose to come under the obligation of a promise. Quote, it must be observed, end quote, says Dr. Paley, note Moral Philosophy B3, Part 1, C5, end note, quote, that most of those forms of speech which strictly taken amount to no more than declarations of present intention do yet in the usual way of understanding them excite the expectation and therefore carry with them the force of absolute promises such as I intend you this place. I design to leave you this estate. I purpose giving you my vote. I mean to serve you in which although the intention, the purpose, the design, the meaning be expressed in words of the present time, yet you cannot afterwards recede from them without a breach of good faith. If you choose therefore to make known your present intention and yet to reserve to yourself the liberty of changing it, You must guard your expressions by an additional clause as, I intend at present, if I do not alter or the like. And after all, as there can be no reason for communicating your intention but to excite some degree of expectation or other, a wanton change of an intention which is once disclosed always disappoints somebody and is always for that reason wrong. There is in some men an infirmity with regard to promises which often betrays them into great distress. From the confusion or hesitation of obscurity with which they express themselves, especially when overawed or taken by surprise, they sometimes encourage expectations and bring upon themselves demands which, possibly, they never dreamed of. This is a want not so much of integrity as of presence of mind." A man's character suffers in the eyes of others. His self-respect is diminished in his own, when he finds himself ensnared into reputed obligations to which he has weakly or foolishly given rise. His ingenuousness and candor are brought under a cloud, and however he may vindicate his name, he cannot but feel that he has put a weapon into the hands of malice. Quote, he that intends, says Jeremy Taylor, to do himself honor must take care that he be not suspected, that he give no occasion of reproachful language, for fame and honor is a nice thing, tender as a woman's chastity, or like the face of the purest mirror, which a foul breath, or an unwholesome air, or a watery eye can sully, and the beauty is lost, though it be not dashed in pieces. When a man or a sect is put to answer for themselves in the matter of reputation, they, with their distinctions, wipe the glass, and at last can do nothing but make it appear it was not broken. But their very absturtion and laborious excuses confess it was foul and faulty. There is but one way of avoiding these painful predicaments, and that is by putting a bridle upon our lips. He that offends not in word is a perfect man. Speech is a sacred prerogative. The tongue rules the word, and we should see to it that our hearts rule it. Let us weigh the import of what we utter, speak with the deliberation of rational and accountable beings, speak according to our real purposes and thoughts, and we shall be saved the mortification and the shame of even an appearance of failure in good faith. It is an awkward thing and humbling to a good man to have to defend himself from the imputation of perfidy when malice can give any color to the charge. As to suspect a servant is to corrupt him, so calumny often drives men to crime. They resent the injustice of mankind by becoming what they have been falsely represented to be. They make reprisals on society by practicing the vices of which they have experienced the shame without the guilt. Let us then guard with jealous care the sanctity of our faith. Let us avoid even the appearance of evil. Let us even suffer wrong rather than give the least occasion of being suspected of falsehood, duplicity, or fraud. If Achilles, who had Chiron for his master, could exult in the ingenuous simplicity of his character, how should he who has had the Son of God for his teacher, an example, be clothed with truth as with a garment? The evil of being seduced into engagements contrary to our purpose is not to be compared with that of being ensnared into those that are unlawful. To make a promise or pledge with the consciousness that the matter of it is wrong is the most deliberate compact with the devil. It is selling one's soul to evil. He that does so either intends to keep his word or he does not. If he intends to keep it, he actually makes evil his good and approximates as closely as his circumstances will allow to the father of lies. who never speaks truth except when it redeems his engagements to sin. If he does not intend to keep it, he is guilty of deliberate fraud. In either view, the making of an unlawful promise knowingly and voluntarily is an aggravated crime. Few, it is to be hoped, ever reach this pitch of wickedness. But to make an unlawful promise unconsciously is not without sin. It is always rash. And though it is not obligatory, it places a man, when the unlawfulness is discovered, in a very painful situation. It is apt to diminish his sensibility to moral distinctions, to superinduce a sophistry which corrupts the heart and darkens the understanding. The very anxiety to exempt himself from censure will tempt him to prevaricate with duty, and the effort to acquit the criminal may terminate in a justification of the crime. To come in close contact with vice is always dangerous. Quote, seen too oft familiar with its face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace, end quote. To apologize for sin is the next step to the commission of it. And to apologize for it, all those will be tempted who have been entangled in unlawful engagements. Let all men, but particularly the young, guard against them with a holy solicitude. Resolve never to make a promise without having well weighed the moral character of its matter. Never let a formula implying obligation pass your lips unless you are sure that it relates to nothing which is inconsistent with your duty to God or man. Whatever is not of faith is sin, and he that doubteth is damned. In every undertaking, our first care should be to have a clear conscience. Rectitude is a sacred and awful thing, and as its eternal laws should never be despised by open and deliberate transgression, so the very possibility of invading them by rashness and imprudence should fill us with constant vigilance and unceasing caution. Quote, ignorance of duty, says Jeremy Taylor, is always a sin and therefore when we are in a perceived discernible state of danger, he that refuses to inquire after his duty does not desire to do it, end quote. Quote, we enter upon danger and despise our own safety and are careless of our duty and not zealous for God, nor yet subjects of conscience or of the spirit of God if we do not well inquire of an action we are to do whether it be good or bad, end quote. To him, however, who has been rashly ensnared, I would solemnly say, do not hesitate to repent of your engagement and to nip the action in the bud. You have sinned already. Do not double the offense by the perpetration of the deed. Let no fear of reproach, no sense of self-degradation induce you to parlay with the crime. You have come too near it already. Your only safety is an instant retreat. If you have betrothed yourself to a harlot under the impression that she was a virgin, flee her poison embraces as soon as you find out her pollution. Never, never for an instant think of excusing or extenuating a wrong because you have been implicated in it. The moment you begin to debate, you have soiled the purity of your conscience. Thank you for listening to this message from Antioch Presbyterian Church. For more information about Antioch, visit us at our website at antiochpca.com.